ferior to many with regard to the perfection of the art. Shak speare may be reproached with incoherent images, prolixity, and useless repetitions: but the attention of the spectators in those days was too easily captivated, that the author should be very strict with himself. A dramatic poet, to attain all the perfection his talents will permit, must neither be judged by impaired age, nor by youth, who find the source of emotion within themselves.

The French have often condemned the scenes of horror represented by Shakspeare; not because they excited an emotion too strong, but because they sometimes destroyed the theatrical illusion. They certainly appear to me susceptible of criticism. In the first place, there are certain situations which are only frightful; and the bad imitators of Shakspeare wishing to represent them, produced nothing more than a disagreeble invention, without any of the pleasures which the tragedy ought to produce; and again, there are many situations really affecting in themselves, which nevertheless require stage effect to amuse the attention, and of course the interest.

When the governor of the tower, in which the young Arthur is confined, orders a red-hot iron to be brought, to put out his eyes; without speaking of the atrociousness of such a scene, there must pass upon the stage an action, the imitation of which is impossible, and the attention of the audience is so much taken up with the execution of it, that the moral effect is quite forgotten.

The character of Caliban, in the "Tempest," is singularly original: but the almost animal figure, which his dress must give

the friend of Claudius, and brother to Isabella, presses her to go and sue for his pardon to the governor Angelo, who had condemned this brother to die. Isabella, young and timid, answers, that she fears it would be useless; that Angelo was too much irritated, and would be inflexible, &c. Lucien insists, and says to her,

-Our doubts are traitors,

And make us lose the good we might win

By fearing to attempt.

Who can have lived in a revolution and not be sensible of the truth of these words!

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him, turns the attention from all that is philosophical in the con. ception of this part.

In reading "Richard III," one of the beauties is what he himself says of his natural deformity. One can feel that the horror which he causes, ought to act reciprocally upon his own mind, and render it yet more atrocious. Nevertheless, can there be any thing,more difficult in an elevated style, or more nearly allied to ridicule, than the imitation of an ill-shaped man upon the stage? Every thing in nature may interest the mind; but upon the stage, the illusion of sight must be treated with the most scrupulous caution, or every serious effect will be irreparably destroyed.

Shakspeare also represented physical sufferings much too often. Philoctetes is the only example of any theatrical effect being produced by it; and in this instance, it was the heroic cause of his wounds that fixed the attention of the spectators. Physi cal sufferings may be related, but cannot be represented. It is not the author, but the actor, who cannot express himself with grandeur; it is not the ideas, but the senses, which refuse to lend their aid to this style of imitation.

In short, one of the greatest faults which Shakspeare can be accused of, is his want of simplicity in the intervals of his sublime passages. When he is not exalted, he is affected: he wanted the art of sustaining himself, that is to say, of being as natural in his scenes of transition, as he was in the grand movements of the soul.

Otway, Rowe, and some other English poets, Addison excepted, all wrote their tragedies in the style of Shakspeare: and Otway's "Venice Preserved," almost equalled his model. But the two most truly tragical situations ever conceived by men, were first portrayed by Shakspeare:-madness caused by misfortune, and misfortune abandoned to solitude and itself.

Ajax is furious; Orestes is pursued by the anger of the gods; Phædra is consumed by the fever of love: but Hamlet, Ophelia, and King Lear, with different situations and different characters, have all, nevertheless, the same marks of derangement: it is distress alone that speaks in them; every idea of common life disappears before this predominant one: they are alive to nothing

but affection; and this affecting delirium of a suffering object seems to set it free from that timidity which forbids us to expose ourselves without reserve to the eyes of pity. The spectators would perhaps refuse their sympathy to voluntary complaints; but they readily yield to the emotion which arises from ■ grief that cannot answer for itself.-Insanity, as portrayed by Shakspeare, is the finest picture of the shipwreck of moral nature, when the storm of life surpasses its strength.

It may be a question, whether the theatre of republican France, like the English theatre, will now admit of their heroes being painted with all their foibles, the virtues with their inconclusiveness, and common circumstances connected with elevated situations? In short, will the tragic characters be taken from recollection, from human life, or from the beautiful ideal?. This is a question which I propose to discuss after having spoken of the tragedies of Racine and Voltaire. I shall also examine, in the second part of this work, the influence which the French revolution is likely to have upon literature.

ANECDOTES OF CHIEF JUSTICE JAY.-FOR THE PORT FOLIO.

MR. OLDSCHOOL,

THE character of the former chief justice, Jay, is one on which I have ever dwelt with singular veneration and delight. Amidst the numerous admirers of this venerable sage, I do not recollect one who has portrayed his peculiar characteristics on the bench. Amongst these I do not propose to class his spotless integrity, or the unimpeachable rectitude of his conduct; his exemplary patience and candour in the investigation of law, truth, and justice, or the luminous and convincing arguments of his judicial decisions. These he has, doubtless, inherited in common with many others. What peculiarly delighted me was, the unadorned simplicity and unassuming dignity of his deportment on the bench; a dignity perfectly exempt from those official forms and ceremonies, which, so far as my acquaintance with

judicial history extends, has never fallen to the lot of any other judge. Here, I believe, chief justice Jay was a unique.

Those at all familiar with the history of English jurispru dence know, that the judges have a style of communicating their opinions peculiar to themselves. It is cautious, circumspect, heavy and guarded-every word seems weighed in the balance, and every positive assertion is magnificently escorted by a train of hypothetical propositions. Fearful of saying too much, they, generally, say infinitely too little, which, to one unacquainted with their dialect, bears a character of timidity and indecisión. This habit originates in a fear, perhaps commendable, of encroaching on the province of the jury, or from an apprehension that the meaning of their words may in future be extended to embrace more than what was meant. Such a style is, by courtesy, called the style of judicial gravity. Chief justice Jay was the reverse of all this: bis arguments had a plumbness to the question in debate-they were direct, positive, and plain. After the debate was exhausted, the subject was presented from the bench to the jury, so unceremoniously, and with such simplicity of language, that they would wonder why in the course of debate all these arguments remained untouched.

The judge, on his part, would address the jury so familiarly and unrepulsive, that they lost all sense of the magistrate in the intelligent friend. He appeared, accidentally, to have taken up the point, and to have explained to them the question in debate.

When this opinion was once delivered, the judge, as if unconscious of the surprise so excited, awaited the call of the next case upon the docket, which was disposed of with the same simplicity of manners. Behind this plain and unostentatious exterior, we at length discovered the secret charm; a great and powerful intellect, intent on business only, and veiling its might.

This was a marked and beautiful trait in the character of this preeminent judge. Another was the fascinating reverence with which his opinions were always received. He was sure to excite a smile, but it was a smile of self-condemnation. We had to learn what dignity was, stripped of all judicial parade

and repulsive exterior. It was an accessible, open, affable, careJess simplicity of deportment, mingled with a seeming unconsciousness of that character. A frown of haughtiness, coldness, or reserve, would have essentially impaired the reverence for this judge.

Another feature peculiarly admirable in his character was, his mild and temperate, yet firm and decisive control of the bar. As an evidence of this, the following anecdote may be mentioned: A question was once argued before the court, in which a man who had unwarily became bail was sued, and where precisely the same law applied as affected the principal. The lawyer, with great propriety, made no distinction in his plea to the jury between principal and bail. After he had finished, his client informed him of the material point omitted in his defence; and was desired to notice this distinction to the jury. He was informed, by his counsel, that before the court in which he was, this was of no sort of consequence; but he still persisted in his solicitation. At length the counsel arose, and afraid of provoking a judicial rebuff on the one hand, and of offending his client on the other, deemed it the safest course to take middle ground. Gentlemen of the jury, said he, my client suggests to me that I have omitted a material point in my defence, and which he desires me to state-a point which, I nevertheless, do not deem important, and that it is, that he is only bail in the present case. The chief justice very familiarly addressed the counsel, and said: At the time when you made your remark, was you sensible that it did not affect the merits of the case? Yes, may it please your honour. Then, replied the judge, you are the more inexcusable for making it.

The chief justice was peculiarly eminent for this grave and cutting mildness of judicial reproof.

A certain lawyer, whom it would be indecorous to name, was in the habit of reminding the state court, before which he commonly argued, and where his influence was unrivalled, that the case was undecided which they had reserved for consideration. He was compelled to give them this friendly notice to prevent them from losing all remembrance of the action.