OR THE LORD, THE ALCHYMIST, AND THE POISONER.

A DRAMA IN THREE ACTS.

THE appearance of a new drama from the pen of an American writer, is entitled to more than a passing notice, and we are pleased with this opportunity of giving expression to a few of our sentiments. So much has been said and written with regard to the paucity of dramatic writings in this country, that we feel ourselves, in the commencement of this article, under the necessity of offering several remarks upon the subject, not tending, however, to the same point, as the generality of papers, but rather going to prove that the censure so lavishly bestowed is unjust and unmerited; we do not hesitate to admit that it is, in some measure, correct and deserved-that there are in the American drama few monuments of durable greatness; but let us endeavor to account for this fact, and in doing so, point out a few evils that call for remedy.

In the first place, authors, as a general thing, write with a view to remuneration; there are few who can afford to bestow their time and labor upon even a favorite calling, without expecting reward and encouragement, and it has been the almost invariable result, in this country at least, that the author who calculates upon these meets with disappointment. Managers are loth to pay proper prices for excellent dramas, nor is it often that they will bargain with an author to share the profits; their reasoning is, that in producing a play they assume the greater risk, and should, therefore, be entitled to the "lion's share," if it prove successful.

In the second place, the English stage supplies a great amount of material, and gives American managers a sufficiency of plays, accompanied with the mere expense of production. This is the most prominent source to which we are to look in accounting for the lack of American plays. Perhaps some will say we should rather be pleased with this than otherwise, because many of the plays thus brought before us have the standard stamp of merit, and have gone safely through the fire of criticism; yet is it not likewise true that many of them are mere trash, from which we derive little pleasure, and still less instruction, and does not their production, in preference to native works, dampen the ardor of our own writers ? It is our idea that the genius of our own country should be fostered in preference to that of any other, and that the labors of our own countrymen should receive the first reward. That there is in America a genius for the drama, we can produce ample proof, and that if some false prejudices were removed, its exhibition would gratify the public, there can be no doubt. We hail the appearance of foreign celebrities, and give our attention to foreign plays, simply because we have so few of our own; but if we offered the same encouragement at home, perhaps we would have no occasion to seek them elsewhere.

In the third place, there is no disputing the fact, that there is a settled determination in the American public to condemn a play from a native pen-there is a disposition to believe that whatever is native, in the way of literature, must be of secondary quality. We know that many who

read this article will disavow any such prejudice, and though we may exempt some from its influence, we are not willing to make the exemption general. The fact is, there are but a few, out of the mass of mankind, who will assume the responsibility of thinking for themselves, and those. to whom the authority is delegated are oftentimes in the wrong-they may be never incapable of discriminating in nice points of reason; it is often so in politics, and why should it not be so in literature? Thus many will judge of a play by the remarks of the press, which upon such matters is the mere mouth-piece of an author, where he may applaud his own performance. Plays and their authors have been lauded to the skies, when they should have been crushed in oblivion; a portion of the press made McHenry a great poet, but subsequent judgments have exploded his claims to the title. Lest it might be considered rude, we will abstain from mentioning the names of many gentlemen who strut under borrowed plumes, and make a great noise with other people's thunder, merely hinting that there are play-writers, ballad-writers, and a host of authors, who "hang upon the skirts of literature," and may be compared to worn-out belles, who hide their wrinkles under coats of paint, and other adornments of art. Cast aside the rouge, the false hair and teeth, and what have we left? A mass of deformity. So with these authors-take away what they have stolen from others, and a more pitiable being can scarce be found. The authority of thinking is sometimes given to these men, and we can easily answer, when asked, what amount of credence is to be given to their opinions.

It may not be wasting time to glance briefly at the American stage, and a few of the productions that may claim the merit of American origin.

As nearly as we can learn, and for this information we are indebted to "Dunlap's History of the American Theatre," the first American play, enacted by a regular company, was the "Contrast," by (Judge) Royal Tyler, which was played in New-York in 1787. The Judge was the author of several other plays, none of which are now known, except to the curious and inquiring in dramatic literature. In 1788 was produced the "Father of an Only Child," a comedy, by William Dunlap, (called the "Father of the American stage,") likewise author of some forty plays, of varied merit-all of which have seen their day. It would be an endless task to mention the plays that have been written, and the long list of dramatic authors; we must, therefore, content ourselves with mentioning a few of the most prominent.

JAMES N. BARKER, EEQ., a member of the Philadelphia bar, produced, in 1807-'8, two plays: The first a comedy, entitled "Tears and Smiles," and the second a melo-drama, called "The Indian Princess," which, as its name betokens, was founded on the history of Pocahontas. This subject has been used in like manner upon several other occasions: in 1830, a play of that name, from the pen of George Washington Custis, was produced with much success; but by far the best drama upon this celebrated event is that generally ascribed to Robert Dale Owen, Esq.* We cannot spare space to make extracts from this play, but we recommend all who decry the American drama as perfectly bare of merit, to read this

Pocahontas: An Historical Play; in five acts. By a Citizen of the West. George Dearborn, New-York. 1837.

performance. We were speaking a moment since of Mr. Barker, and of the influence of the English stage: in the same connection it may not be unwise to introduce an anecdote showing how much more a foreign effort is appreciated than one by a native genius. Among other of Mr. Barker's plays, was a dramatic version of Sir Walter Scott's poem of "Marmion ;" it was produced at the Park Theatre, New-York. "Those concerned, apprehending a prejudice to exist against native productions, thought it politic to announce 'Marmion' as from the pen of Thomas Morton,* as having been received with unbounded applause in London." By this stratagem the piece received an impartial trial, and thousands lavished applause, who otherwise would not have endured the strains of an American muse, lest their critical acumen might be called in question.

DAVID PAUL BROWN, another eminent lawyer of Philadelphia, who still mingles with the busy scenes of life, and who has adorned the literature of America in various ways, has produced two plays of much merit, entitled "Sertorius," and "The Prophet of St. Paul's."

NATHANIEL HARRINGTON BANNISTER, (' Poor Nat,' as we have often heard him called,) was the writer of a number of plays, all possessing considerable, and some, extraordinary merit. Poverty, the great foe of genius, forced him to pamper to the low tastes of the less refined portion of the community, and many of his plays were written not with a view to literary excellence, but rather to pecuniary profit. The tragedy of "Psammetichus: or, The Twelve Tribes of Egypt," is his most meritorious production.

ROBERT T. (Judge) CONRAD, of Philadelphia, was the author of several fine plays, among them: "Conrad, King of Naples," and "Jack Cade;" this latter piece was subsequently altered, and as "Aylemere, or the Kentish Rebellion," proved very successful in the representation upon the stage; its poetical merits make it an agreeable companion for the

closet.

DR. BIRD, likewise of Philadelphia, which seems to have furnished its full quota of dramatists, was author of the tragedy of "The Gladiator,”made famous by Mr. Forrest's personation of the hero. "Oraloossa," and "The Broker of Bogota." All have received marks of public favor, and the first and last are frequently played by the distinguished tragedian whom we have named.

JOHN HOWARD PAYNE is another name intimately associated with the American stage, both as an actor and as an author. He was born, we have been informed, in this city; he produced a number of plays-too many to enumerate. They are of all classes and qualities, ranging from tragedy down to farce. Those now most familiar are:-" Brutus: or, The Fall of Tarquin," a tragedy; "Mazeppa," a melo-drama; "Charles II.: or, The Merry Monarch," a comedy; and " Clari, the Maid of Milan," an opera. The charming ballad of "Home, sweet Home," with which the world has become enchanted, is original in the last named opera.

But our space is rapidly filling up, and we must conclude this portion of our sketch with the mention of the names of Rufus A. Dawes, James H. Hennicott, Anna Cora Mowatt, M. M. Noah, (our illustrious cotem

*Author of "Speed the Plough;" "A Cure for the Heartache;" "Secrets Worth Knowing;" "Town and Country," &c., &c.

porary, Major Noah, of the Sunday Times and Messenger,) Jonas B. Phillips, Esq., (our Assistant District Attorney,) John Augustus Stone, Epes Sargent, Šilas S. Steele, and N. P. Willis. These are only a few of the better-we could fill a magazine with an enumeration of bad writers. At another time we may offer to our readers some observations upon the writings of these gentlemen, and upon the writings of some others to whom we have not alluded.

But now to Valdez, which we scarcely know how to handle; we cannot examine it in the light of an historical play, because, though it talks of kings and conspiracies, it is, we believe, entirely a sketch of fancy. At all events, we do not remember to have met with its characters or incidents in the course of our reading; nor can we examine its merits as an acting drama, before it has made its appearance on the stage. A play that to us might seem full of beauty, and deserving of the greatest applause, might to a manager used in such things, appear an unprofitable investment. Take for instance Mr. Longfellow's "Spanish Student"— here is a play full of poetry, breathing the divinest inspiration; such a drama will always give a reader pleasure, but we doubt if it would be as successful on the stage as Bulwer's "Lady of Lyons," or Mr. Bannister's Putnam,"—both of which it far excels. Valdez we must therefore look at as a poetical production, and viewing it in this light, we commence with saying that it has merit of no common order.

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Before going further, we will point out a few defects, trifling in their nature, and which appertain to it as an acting, rather than as a readable drama. The first great error into which our author has fallen is that of a somewhat obscure plot. Nothing sooner rivets the attention of an audience than a plot which developes itself in every incident of the play, and at the same time excites admiration and interest in the reader. Popular plays have this distinguishing feature, nor is it to be wondered at, because the plot and incidents are all that give point and influence to language; hence it is, also, that novels are more popular with the generality of readers, than essays upon literary or scientific subjects. Secondly, this play, like every other drama upon which public opinion has not been exercised, requires a careful revision; many of the dialogues, and most of the soliloquies, are too lengthy. Upon the stage the result would be tediousness a result that will damn any play, whatever may be its merits.

Thirdly-and we are happy to say, lastly, the character of Nourmahliel has such traces of the virago mingled with feminine delicacy, as to give it an improbable appearance, and cause a disagreeable impression. There are not many who combine the two extremes of coarseness and refinement; the greater must eclipse the lesser.

We feel authorized to say, that the author has the capability of improving the faults we have suggested: there is sufficient merit in the play itself to warrant our assertion.

We will now endeavor to convey briefly some idea of the plot. Valdez and Valdivira, nephews of Manuel, King of Granada, are the principal movers in the mimic scene; they are brothers, and the latter, the younger, is the favorite of the King, as well as the chosen Nourmahliel. Valdez thirsts for power, and loves Nourmahliel, and to compass his designs— that is, to win the throne to which he holds himself by right entitled, and to secure the hand of the lovely woman of whom he is enamored-he

Valdez.

[December,

enters into a conspiracy with Mozzanna, Torralva, and others, to possess themselves of the kingdom, while at the same time he secretly determines upon the death of his brother-the greatest obstacle in his path to preferment. Valdez is deep in the mysteries of alchemy, and shares with the hag Heclah a part of her cavern, where he devotes himself to culling poisons and compounding death. Manuel, the King, in returning to his capital, is shipwrecked upon the sea-coast, but escapes from a watery grave only to be the subject of an earthly fiend-Valdez, who attends his couch, and by whose careful skill he is conveyed into another sphere of action; after which Valdivira becomes King. On the day of his brother's nuptials with Nourmahliel, Valdez mingles poison in the cup wherein Valdivira is to pledge his bride, and that, too, in the Cathedral, where the ceremonies are to be solemnized; the draught is taken by the innocent victim, who shortly after dies, and his death is generally attributed to a sudden pestilence then just beginning to develope itself. Subsequent events prove that Heclah has given an antidote with the poison of Valdez, and Valdivira merely sleeps.

som.

The story of Heclah is told in the course of the play; in her youth she had been very beautiful, the brightest star in the firmament of lovelinessout of a thousand suitors for her hand, she chose one who was an exile from his native land, banished for love of liberty; a profound student and an ardent lover. For him she left her happy home, her friends; for him she broke the ties of country, content to share his sorrow, so that she might bask in the sunlight of his smile, and reign sole princess of his boHis love is but the love of an hour, and he deserts her in a desert waste! By a miracle she is preserved from death, and wanders into Granada, to seek her husband, and her victim. From him she had learned the mysteries of magic; she meets Count Valdez, a stranger to her eyes; he shares her cavern, confides to her his schemes, and when least expected, she finds in him the victim she has sought so long. The denouement may be imagined the brother is restored to his love and the throne, the wrongs of the innocent are avenged, and Valdez falls by poison, from the hands of Nourmahliel, as the vindicator of Heclah.

There are several interesting incidents and other trifling details to which we have not given our attention, because they are not essential to the plot, and moreover they will manifest themselves in the extracts we are about to make.

This plot is, as we have said, an obscure one: it may seem lucid because we have explained it, but it has been with no little difficulty; true, it is hidden under a veil of beauty, but still we could forgive a little less ornament for the sake of more prominent substance. It is necessary that

And here we must notice another error; the scene of this drama is laid at the city of Granada, the capital of the flourishing province of that name, in the south of Spain. This city is situated in a mountainous district in the interior, and we believe the river Xenil is nearest to it-a gentle stream, not furious enough to battle against the front of a castle, or shipwreck a king. Things may have changed, but we doubt that Granada has changed its position since the time of Mahomet the III., its founder. The author, upon the firing of signals of distress, transports his characters from a room in the castle at Granada, where they have been dancing, to the cliffs upon the seashore-which, as near as our geographical recollection goes-is a distance of between 80 and 100 miles. We can allow ourselves to make imaginary kings and princes, but we must not annihilate time and space in such a manner-and that too, before the existence of steam conveyances. We remember to have seen upon a magazine cover a picture representing the embarkation of the Pilgrims, and judge of our surprise at finding that steamboats were used (in the picture) to convey our forefathers from the shore to their vessels-it created as much surprise with us to find our author capable of an error such as we have mentioned.