RETROSPECT OF POLITICS FOREIGN AND DOMESTIC. SINCE our last, Government have published invincible, whom she has never yet seen to be official dispatches from the Russian, General, commanding the armies in Poland, by which we are made acquainted with a variety of trivial successes obtained by our Northern Ally over the armies of Napoleon.—This intelligence, as was natural, has inspired the most pleasing sensations, and awakened hopes, perhaps somewhat exaggerated, of a series of better fortune for Europe. The French papers which have come to hand, deny, in a manner at once unequivocal and contemptuous, the reported successes of the Russians; accuse General Bennigsen, and the Cabinet of St. Petersburgh, and impute to them a shallow design to impose upon the people. In a word, they claim the victory for themselves. conquered; and, as if she were fighting with an invulnerable being, contents herself with defensive attitudes, satisfied if she can fence off the blow that is aimed at herself, but too diffident of her own powers to endeavour to strike in her turn. We appeal to the judgment of the thinking part of our readers-has not this unjust diffi dence of ourselves, and unwarrantable respect for our enemy, been the cause of half the mischief and ruin which we see around us? He is invincible rather because we believe him to be so, than from any thing in his own internal strength. He is a God only as long as we shall worship him; let us venture to look him in the face, and give him a kick instead of a prayer, and we shall find him tumble from his altar, and become as one of ourselves. But, to say the truth, this is not the first time that Fortune has sported with the folly of mankind, nor will it be the last. Let her raise her golden calf in the clouds; let it glitter from afar, and be enough removed from our sight not to be seen in its distinctive features; and whilst the world is constituted as it is, it will never want adorers. Whatever may be the general opinion as to the result of the late battles, whether it shall assign the victory to the Russians, or entertain a doubt whether there has been any victory at all, one thing is at least certain-the Russians have withstood the French, and are fully equal to a Defensive war. In the present situation of circumstances, this is every thing. Indeed, nothing has of late so much excited our surprise, as the manner in which the late Russian accounts have too generally been considered. If we were to argue from our first impressions, we should fall into the unpleasing conclusion, that a very greating is the list of their successors: — proportion of our countrymen received little satisfaction from the success of the Allies. This, however, is not the fact it arises from a cause, which effectually, perhaps, is worse. It has been one of the most fatal characteristics of the war, that our very best judgment, as well as our courage, has become daunted before the success of the enemy;-he has defeated our reason, and obtained as complete a conquest over our understanding as over our armies: hence the unwillingness to indulge any belief, that his hitherto precipitate career has been stopped; hence the ready credit of every reported defeat of the Allies; hence that preverse doubt of the most official accounts which contain statements of a contrary nature. From an unhappy state of things, the common enemy has been hitherto successful: Fortune has spun for him with more than her usual constancy, and his thread of success has thus been long and unbroken, not only beyond the ordinary frailty of its materials, but beyond the ordinary course of nature. Europe has thus deemed him No. XV. Vol. II. The domestic intelligence of the month is not without its importance.-The present Administration are dismissed from power,-the follow The Duke of Portland, First Lord of the Trea sury. The Right Hon. Spencer Percival, Chancellor of the Exchequer. Lord Eldon, Lord Chancellor. Marquis Wellesley, Secretary of State for the Lord Hawksbury, for the Home Department. Earl of Westmoreland President of the Council. Sir Vickery Gibbs, Attorney-General. Sir Home Popham has been tried by a Court Martial; found guilty of the charges alledged against him, and sentenced to be severely reprimanded. It is but just to say that the public sentiment is of another complexion. X PUBLIC AMUSEMENTS FOR MARCH. The Fable is as follows:-Fitzharding (who it should seem from his sentiments and feelings, though the fact is now here sufficiently explained, was a Dane of some rank and family), in an hour of youthful vagrancy and dissipation, had entered as a common soldier, into the army, under the command of the Norman Baron Hugh de Tracy; and having been guilty of some irregularities, was, by that inflexible commander, publicly degraded, Scourged, and branded on the arm, in the marketplace, amidst the shouts and insults of the rude populace. This, as was natural enough to a high-minded individual, was an indignity never to be forgiven, and the thoughts of revenge for ever rankled in his heart. It will not, perhaps, be thought quite so natural that he should have dissembled his feelings; have pretended to have forgiven; have become the intimate friend of the injurer; "have had access to him in his sleep, and not stabbed him; drank wine with him, and mixed no poison in the cup; marched side by side with him, along precipices that overhung the sea, and not plunged him in," &c. while all the time he was, nevertheless, meditat- || ing some terrible vengeance; perfectly careless as to consequences to himself. De Tracy having married the chaste and beautiful Matilda, this Danish Zanga writes to him two anonymous letters, the first rousing his jealousy in terms of general precaution; the second informing him, that, if he goes to his chamber, at a particular hour, he will find his wife in the embraces of his rival. The Baron attends to the suggestion; actually finds a man in his chamber; stabs his wife, and, in the mean time, suffers the supposed gallant (who, it seems, was no other than Fitzharding himself) to escape unrecognised. He pursues him, however, but in vain: and, upon his return, finds that his wounded wife had escaped with their only son; and the knowledge of this fact is succeeded, in his mind, by a conclusion (we forget how adduced) that wife and child had both perished at sea. To complete his affliction, he receives another anonymous letter, from his mysterious correspondent, informing him, that his wife is innocent; but that the revenge of the writer (whoever he may be) is yet but imperfectly satisfied. All this is supposed to have happened in Normandy, and before the invasion, which brought De Tracy among the followers of William into England; where we find him, on the rising of the curtain, a great and powerful Baron, in a most magnificent and extensive castle, racked with remorse, for the consequences of his jealousy and delusion: to the lovely victim of which he has erected, in the northern and unoccupied extremity of this castle, a splendid monument. But another event had taken place, prior to the opening of the Drama; which has, also, its importance in the fable. In the battle of Hastings, De Tracy had been beaten down by the Saxons, and was on the point of being inevitably slain, if he had not been rescued by the timely valour of his vassal Bertrand. In a transient enthusiasm of gratitude, the haughty Baron had in a manner adopted his deliverer, into his family; rather as an equal, than a retainer; and had introduced him to his daughter, Florence; whose gratitude does not prove to be quite of so transienta nature. The stolen interviews of these lovers, in the northern tower (after the Baron had retracted his kindness) occasion the first intimation of the institution that gives name to the Play: Waller, the beadle, or constable, of the village coming to complain to the Baron of the violation of the law, by lights and voices having been seen and heard, in that part of the castle, after curfew time, The humour of Walter is not very original; but the incident awakens some curiosity and interest, at the outset of the piece; and impresses the mind with an idea of natural connection (which is afterwards exceedingly well kept up), between the business of the scene and the title: which is certainly exceedingly well chosen; interesting in itself, and well applied. The Baron taxes Florence upon the subject, who acknowledges her interviews with Bertrand; and, notwithstanding the threatened maledictions of her father, agrees, in the very next scene, to disguise herself in boy's apparel, and elope to her lover. Elopements in those days, however, were rather more formidable adventures than at present; and the author has thought fit to increase the authentic perils of such an undertaking, by the creation of a subterraneous nation of Danes, who inhabit the Andalusian caverns in the neighbourhood of De Tracy's castle. At the head of this banditti, we find Fitzharding; who, in a dialogue with Armstrong, who had saved his life in a perilous adventure, makes us acquainted with the circumstance of the brand of infamy upon his arm, and the untameableness of that soul-racking indignation which he cherishes on that account. During this scene, they encounter Dunstan, a famous Monk, who had been sent for by De Tracy from a neighbouring Monastery to receive his confession and soothe his troubled conscience. readily believe to have been finely sustained. At length, however, his resolution is taken; and his uplifted arm is only staid by Florence, as a last resource, proclaiming that she is "a woman." Robert, of course, throws away his dagger, and offers to conduct her to a place of safety; but Herman, one of the banditti, who doubting his firmness, had concealed himself to watch the event, rushes forth, and a contest ensues, in which Herman is driven off the stage and slain. Robert now conducts Florence to the cottage of his mother, and then returns to his Danish comrades, having first thrown an arrow over the battlements of the castle, to inform De Tracy of the meditated assault. Fitzharding's disguise fully answers his expectations. The supposed Monk, hears in confession what he already knew of the causes of De Tracy's remorse, and appoints the hour of curfew time and the tomb of Matilda, in the uninhabited northern tower, for the purposed expiation. Florence being introduced in this scene, the seeming boy reveals, with some obscurity, what he has heard in the cavern, and recognizes the pretended Minstrels, who are stripped of their disguises and conveyed to a dungeon. But the supposed Monk gets them assigned over to his care, under pretence of influencing them to confession, and contrives to set them at liberty. In the mean time, Florence falls into the hand of another party of these Danes; and just at the instant that Bertrand is rushing on to her rescue the vassals of the Baron overtake and seize him, and, in spite of his remonstrances, drag him back to the castle, and suffer the disguised Florence to be borne away to the caverns of the banditti. Here, in the midst of their riotous conviviality, the seeming boy overhears the details of the planned attack of her father's castle, and the meditated murder of all her family; but her attentive listening (and, by the way, the acting of Miss Dun-light, the poor Matilda, whose son had turned can was that of listening curiosity merely, without the single trait of the caution which the situation demanded), was likely to have cost her dear; for the curiosity of their prisoner alarming the fears of the robbers, they determine that he shall be murdered, as their only means of security; and Robert, being the youngest member of their fraternity, is therefore left behind them to be the executioner. With this Robert we had been made acquainted in a former scene, by his rushing into the miserable cottage of his mother (the disguised Matilda!) with a purse, apparently the first fruits of a profession to which he seems to have been driven by the apprehension of seeing that mother perish with want. Inconsistently, we think, with every other trait of the character, Robert seriously meditates the execution of this horrid office; and a struggle of contending emotions ensues, which those who know the real forte of Bannister (that of low tragedy, or the pathos of humble life) will The eventful hour arrives. Fitzharding accompanies De Tracy in darkness to the northern tower and monument of Matilda ;-reveals himself-proclaims his determination of revenge--is unmoved by the abject entreaties of the Baronwhen suddenly the stage lamps are drawn up, and, in a blaze of sudden and incomprehensible robber to reseve her from the utmost misery of want rushes from behind the mouument in a pomp and magnificence of apparel that dazzles every beholder. But Fitzharding, recovering from his affright and horror, rushes again to his purpose; when suddenly the vassals of De Tracy previously prepared and arranged by the female whom they had apprehended for witchcraft, rush in and take him prisoner. The Danes now aitack the castle, and Tracy and Robert meet in the conflict, but are parted by Matilda, who reveals all that was necessary for the catastrophe. De Tracy is happy in the restoration of his lost family; and the hand of Florence is bestowed at last upon Bertrand. Such is the detailed outline of this Play; in which it will be obvious, that mingled with some excellencies and several beauties, there are many striking defects and incongruities. It has been received with considerable applause, and had its run. ! COVENT-GARDEN On Tuesday, March the 10th, was presented a new Comedy of Mr. Morton's, entitled Town and Country. The following is a sketch of the fable: Plastic, a dissipated young man of fashion, Rosalie, notwithstanding all Plastic's caution, her husband home. Reuben then goes to a Subscription-house for play, where he knows his brother was to pass the evening; and while waiting in an anti-chamber, Augustus rushes from the gaming table, ruminating on his distresses, and goaded by despair, is on the point of committing suicide, when Reuben arrests his arm, and prevails upon him to go home to his family, having first learnt from him that he has pledged his commission for a gaming debt to Plastic.Reuben's next interview is with Plastic; he redeems his brother's commission, and Plastic wishing to know to whom he is so much indebted, listens to Reuben's story, and finds he is known; but Reuben's still thinking that Rosalie has voluntarily left her friends, and that her affections are placed upon Plastic, and having promised that his life should be devoted to her happiness, prevails upon him to sign a written promise of marriage with the Lady. Reuben, in company with Cosey, meets Plastic, according to appointment, at the house of Mrs. Glenroy, Rosalie being introduced, an eclaircissement takes place, which exposes the ingratitude of Plastic, and the young Lady bestows her hand and fortune on Reuben Glenroy. This Comedy is not in the happiest style of Mr. Morton. It is divided, too manifestly, into what may be called Tragic-Comedy and Farce, and perpetually shuffles between a laugh and a cry. This alternation of the tear and the smile,' if skillfully managed, is not unpleasing; but when the author professes it to be the object of his Comedy, and puts on his slipper in one scene, and his buskin in the next, it becomes too artificial and contradictory to please. This Comedy has many other defects.-It wants a fable; by which we do not mean to say that the piece stands still, and is made up of mere scenes of conversations, but that the incidents, with which it is crowded, are not gracefully or judiciously sorted together, nor allotted into that order and place which is necessary to the character of a Fable. The Play does not want bustle, change of incident, or variety of character. In truth, it is perpetually on the move; but it is not the progress of a Fable; the regular stages of a well invented and combined story. The characters have not much novelty-they are what we may truly call the academic models; the old lay figures of the stage. In the serious parts of the Comedy, there was occasionally some good writing, though it smacked strongly of a German palate. The lighter scenes, in the sense in which Mr. O'Keefe and Mr.Colman understand these things, were full of fun. The Epilogue contained a despicable and canting compliment to the Patriotic Fund, which was deservedly hissed. |