THE NEW TRAGEDY.
Caswallon, the Celtic hero of Mr. WALKER, (whose right in him, under that name, is disputed by Mr. GANDY, the author of an elder Caswallon” stands in the same relation to the orphan daughter of Llewellyn—the heroine of the play—that Cedric the Saxon bears to the orphan descendant of Alfred, in the romance. The Celt, like the Saxon, regards his royal charge with the fond- ness of a father and the veneration of a subject ; and like him also has a son sojourning in the tents of the stranger and pretend- ing to the heart of the princess. The Celtic father treats the Saxonized Fitz-Edward with as much contempt as the Saxon father treats the Normanized Ivanhoe. Caswallon is an upholder of indigenous royalty as impracticable as Cedric, with a little super- added of the Caractacus ;. and, unsueeessful in an attack, is made prisoner along with Eva by the Saxons, just as Cedric and Rowena, after the skirmish in the forest, fall into the hands of the Normans. Black Mortimer enacts—though with more brutality— the black Templar ; and Eva, who now takes the tone of a Re- becca, not having battlements to fly to, effects her escape by means
of a strong potion previously given to her by her guardian, as a last resource against dishonour.
Albeit there is a river in Macedon and also moreover a river in Monmouth, our comparison stands its ground at least as well as Fluellen's. Though the author of Caswallon perhaps never dreamt of its existence, a parallel may certainly be run between him and the "Pig Unknown ;" for what of invention is common to both writers constitutes nearly the whole of the playwright's. The latter has discovered his original genius in a rendezvous of bards, a battle behind the scenes, a capture on the stage, and a bell tolling to an execution. In the course of this last scene, an idea occurs, which, if new, might have been pronounced great. The mstle-gates fly open, discovering the scaffold outside, and far in the distance the heights of Snowdon. Caswallon, in ecstacy at' a sigat for which he has pined in his dungeon, sees not the scaffold prepired for his death—he sees only his native hills ; and forthwith addiesses them in a strain not quite worthy of the conception. But there is nothing new under the sun :—the Highland upholder of tie old line in Wilverley hopes that they will at least put his heat over the Scotch gate, that he may look, even in death, to the him hills of his native land ; a thought which the author graces by (noting the line which probably suggested it to him—" Occidit, et noriens dulces reminiscitur Argos." Tie writer of Caswallon is not to be censured for having bor- rowx1 some ideas from the author of Waverley, but for not having boriowed all. If in addition to the outline of a plot from Ivanhoe and Wizverley, he had adopted from them also the details of one, and reduced the characters, sentiments, and language of those nobe romances to a three act play, the result would have been MOB acceptable both to the audience and to himself, and a run of tweity crowded nights would have rewarded the labours which mu t now he contented with half a dozen. They who have no matrials of their own with which to rear the lofty superstructure of a drama, would be more honourably and usefully employed in huilling on the foundation and with the materials of greater mitis. It is clear that the author of Caswallon might as well hole to whistle spirits out of the ocean, as to conjure up beings utteing the language and thoughts proper either to men in remote tims and countries, or to men of any age or country. He is a meter of speeches, not a dramatist—a builder of blank verse, not a pet ; and in both vocations is not half so clever in his craft as the degant authoress of Rienzi; who with infinitely greater merit * .et Mr. Gandy settle the point in dispute by following the example of good old publis, which have the misfortune to see rivals starting up in their own names. The 'Old Caswallon" or "the Old Briton Chief" would assert Mr. Gandy's prior clairrto send the reader to skep, just as "the Old King's Head" or "the old Blue Boar insinuates a better title to accommodate the wayfarer with a hard bed and muds, port. as a writer of poetry, has as few pretensions as himself to the name of a dranAtist Miss MITFORD —herself no great observer of con- sistenef and propriety—would scarcely have introduced a Welsh chiertain apostrophizing as " beautiful in brightness" a country of
doomy hills assailed by the winter tempest, lakes concealed in a bele mist, and cold and lonely heaths over which the deer of the .rest were chased by a troop of naked barbarians s."
Mr. WALKER had better have condescended at once to repose on the safer ground of melo-drama ; for it is a mistake to suppose, as some of our contemporaries appear to do, that a bad tragedy can ever be a good melo-drama. Casweibm, universtlly con- demned in the former character, is generally admitted to present effective situations. Truly, if by that term are meant interesting ones, we detected none that were not at the same time as vell known to the spectator as the front of Drury or the house of his opposite neighbour. The only striking one we have already alluded to ; and the little merit of this is sadly overborne by the demerit of others, which defied the power even of YOUNG to make plausible,—YouNo, the stoutest upholder of a new play that treads the boards,—YouNo, who can carry successfully off more rant than any actor we ever saw. For, to speak more properly, that which is mere fustian in the mouths of ordinary performers, ceases to be so in his ; such being the power of his voice, and his com- mand over it, the energy of his manner, and the soundness of his judgment. KEAN, in such attempts, is impotent, and other actors are ridiculous. Youero is the only man entitled to a patent for be- rattling the lieges about the ears—which above all things the lieges love. But the author of Caswallon has given him no quarter, and put him on hard duty in almost every scene of the whole intermi- xable five acts. Men—the stoutest and most energetic—cannot al- ways talk" plain cannon, thunder, bounce ;" and even YOUNG, who is but a man, though an extraordinary one, has not voice and em- phasis enough to drive the fustian down our throats. He evidently flagged, like one who feels his efforts unavailing to give the tone of sincerity to what he utters. Yet occasionally, and in particular in .the brave defiance flung in the teeth of Mortinwr, triumphed the spirit that used to animate Caisius and Hotspur and Pierre, and
• which has struck a spark of fire even out of the linsey-woolsey The same want of consideration is manifested for the represen- tative of the heroine ; who is repeatedly left to arduous soliloquies,
• and among other trifling matters has to depict all alone the leita- tion of a female, for example, watching the tide of a battle that threatens momentarily to roll to her very feet. It needs not be said that Miss PHILLIPS found herself unequal to a situation of this kind, which no actress, with the slender support aftbrded her by the author, would have been able to support. And before we speak disparagingly of the performer's attempts, it becomes us to reflect on the nature of that which she was called on to perform. YOUNG, in the present instance, was not more successtud himself, when he • makes his appearance from the supposed field of battle. Miss PHILLIPS was effective and interesting whenever she was indulged . with a scene of tenderness and affection ;—and they who deny her feeling and nature in passages of this character, where she is evidently at home, and on which her merit as an actress chiefly rests, have no feeling themselves.
The scenery of the play was not ill got lip: only there is a cas- cade which falls by some new law of gravity—it is an intermittent waterfall—a most deliberate waterfall. We cannot pay it the compliment with which WILSON honoured the falls of Tivoli- " Well done water, by
The other contrivances are as empty and beggarly as esual Half-a-dozen scene-shifters, with pewter pots on their heads, form the military array on either side ; and the roar of battlo is milling more than a shout such as is raised by some dozen tippling coblers to greet the election of a Mayor of Garrat. It would not have required a vast expense of thought and management to :ilant sonic trumpets and kettle-drums behind the scene, to swel the roar, and countenance the terrors of Eva,—to whom pour lady, the brunt of the battle really fails. The other misery—the half -
dozen pewter pots to wit—is an old ingrained and seemingly mu- mble vice of the stage, which every body laughs at, but whici no- body, save the good taste of Sir WALTER SCOTT has proposal to remedy. Why do not Messrs. FARLEY and Co. take a IISSOR from one so competent to instruct their ignorance with regal to the picturesque of sights and sounds ?
"The common resource is to draw up half-a-dozen men along tie flat
scene, who stand there with pale faces, as stiff as upon parade, til the speech is ended, and then right about—forward, and off they stalk as if to relieve guard. . . Suppose two or three armed figures were exhibit(' as seen partially betwixt the side-scenes with lances and banners projeting over their heads, so as to suggest to tfle imagination of the audiene the leaders of columns stationed in readiness to advance, and give sorn:idea of numbers attendant on their chieftain."
Whilst such absurdities exist, it is hardly worth while to mtice
black-hearted:Minqinzs black gloves ;—a part performed ti the full as well as it deserved by Mr. AITK IN, who begins to disover an ease of manner which promises to make him a useful ret:iner of the stage. But then, he must study action, voice, and look, xith the assiduity of the Frenchman, whom Keeieee: saw prepaingiimn- self behind the scenes for the utterance of "Madam, the cariage is at the door ;" and above all, let him not suppose thatcha- racter is manifested by closing the eyes, shaking the head, capro- trading the under lip—unless it be some turtle-fed Aldermarwho puts it out to cool * Liihhou—uf the Scottish Highlands, to Zlootso dit)-
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