THE PRINCESS AMELIA OF SAXONY'S DRAMAS.

IN our last week's notice of Mrs. JAMESON'S exposition of German literature and manners in relation to these Dramas, we indicated

that the Princess, waiving the advantage of her rank, had seen her anonymous pieces rejected at the capital of her uncle king, and that her drematic writings had rescued the German stage from the degradation of Fate-dranms pushed to the extreme of the ridiculous. Popular success with only merit to rely upon, and a reform in a difficult breach of letters, are strong evidence of genius; and, in the remarks we arc about to offer, full allowance must be made for these two facts, as well as for the difficulty of judging of the pro- ductions of it foreign country whose customs and whose tastes are dissimilar to our own.

Speaking with regard to the English stage, these Dramas arc de- ficient in bustle and business : with some few exceptions of' equi-

vogue in situation, or affectation in character ludicrously effective, they are rather a simple story conducted by dramatic dialogue, than what answers to our notions of an acting drama. They more resem- ble the petites pijces which were brought out at the Olympic by :Maclaine VasTais, than the genuine English comedy. They have something akin to it, however, is the ease with which lovers, deprived of one object, take up another, as well as in the improba- bilities by which the catastrophe is sometimes produced..

Looking at the general nature of the drama, v, ithout regard to national opinion, the plays of the Princess appear deficient in.body

and strength. It is not that the stories arc always wanting in dra- matic capability (though several arc slight); but their germs are not fully developed ; and the dialogue has sometimes an air of feebleness in tone and triviality in subject, as if delicacy rather

than strength were the characteristic of the writer's mind. The moral fueling is frequently none of the loftiest—not exactly gross

or dishonest, but, with three exceptions, the heroes arc prone to

take every advantage to forward their ends, and to prefer the utile to the koaestain. The characters are drawn with considerable

nicety, spirit, mid truth. A court sycophent or go-between in the

"Princely Bride," with his moral meanness but polished and rather pleasant manner, could only have been sketched by one who had seen the original. A village parasite, in "Truth and Falsehood," is more amusing, if not quite so true. But Madame Stunner, the ca- pricious, violent, and imaginary invalid in " The Uncle," is not only

well conceived, but drawn with dramatic strength. In the hands of a judicious actress, she would be equally effective in the earlier scenes, where she gives full play to her natural disposition, and in the latter, where she assumes amiability, when the lover physician has enforced her to mildness, by an intimation that his medicine will be deadly in its effects if she give way to any excitement. Of the five dramas, it appears to us that this " Uncle " is the best adapted to representation, by the variety of its characters, the nature of its incidents or situations, and the effect likely to be produced by its points and scenes. The plot turns upon the triumph of moral worth over youth and infirmity of principle ; the nephew, persuaded by a loose friend, endeavouring to procure

his middle-aged uncle's assent to a match, by a series of tricks that end in losing his mistress. The case with which the lady quits

one lover for another, is sudden, even allowing for the necessities

of the drama ; and the German Doctor, with "his birds and dried butterflies," " his personal negligence and his mental refinement, his child-like simplicity and moral grandeur," may, as Mrs. JAMESON says, be unintelligible to an English audience : we suspect, how- ever, "The Uncle" would be much more effective than" The Country Cousin," which our thir writer translated for the stage. Nar-

rating instead of acting the plaster scene, which would excite ridi- cule., and the amiability of the Doctor to the poor old woman, which would look mawkish, there are maws' parts of real interest or telling claptrap ; and the dialogue is lively and spirited. Take as au example the opening, which combines the qualities of good

dramatic normative. It is neat and rapid; it possesses the audience with the characteristics of two prominent persons; it indicates the state of afiliirs ; and what it tells is action.

WIESEL.

My orrice!—the highest—the noblest—the divinest—that of a friend!

MEERPELD.

Ay, indeed!

WIESEL.

A friend, though I say it, who bas a heart for his friends' friends ; and there- fore begs to be allowed the honour of presenting himself as your worship's devoted friend, the first time he has the felicity of meeting you m company.

RIEDLER.

Ha, Mamsell Henriette! whither away so fast ?

DENRIETTE.

- Whither? can you ask, Sir ? as if there was any way for me but from the

house-door to the apothecary's shop !

RIEDLER.

Is your good lady fallen sick again, by way of a change ?

IIENRIETTE.

Oh, yesterday evening we had a terrible scene. She had an inflammation of the lungs, it seems; and because Dr. Richter wouldn't believe it, and refused to bleed her, she became downright mad, wished the doctor at the mis- chief; and herself in heaven ; and, in short, went so fur in the height of her fury, that the doctor ran of without his hat, and swore he would never enter the Luse again,—a catastrophe which of a sudden changed my lady's inflam- mation into a bilious fever.

RIEDLER.

Bravo I admirable ! and how well you tell the story!

IIENRIETTE.

Yes, I'm used to it ; had always a knack at telling a story ; and if I had not the comfort. of relating the scenes that happen at home to half-a. dozen of my intimate acquaintance, Fin sure 1 don't think 1 could stay another hour in such a detested service.

RIEDLER.

And what said Miss Anna to all this ado ?

Why, Miss Anua had to play the harp to her mamma :from midnight till after co n this morning, to quiet her nerves forsooth!

RIEDLER.

A. very pleasant task !

IIENRIETTE.

Oh, that's nothing! formerly, I remember that she had to play all night long; and all the physic that my lady takes, she must taste it first ; and not long ago, when my lady had the toothache, they talked of pulling out one of Miss Anna's beautiful teeth, just that she might tell her mamma if it was really so very painful or not, ha, ha, hn !

RIEDLER (laughing.)

That's awful.

IIENRIETTE.

A3', its truth ; but so it always is when one spoils people in that way. My young lady would bear it all, if it were ten times worse.. Now, suppose a rich uncle badadopted me, and left me his sole heiress : " My lady mamma," says I, "for your daughter I'm not good enough, it seems, and thr your waiting- maid too good; you have your jointure, I have my dowry—the world is wide— your most obedient!" (with a much curtsey.) "Falsehood and Truth" we rate the nest in point of merit and of interest. The moral is, the mischief which arises from using false- hood to accomplish ends. Juliana is beautiful, spirited, and rich; but she has a habit of manceuvering and indirectness. Her lover is honourable and poor, but she insists on secrecy carried on by dissimulation. Her father having an otter of' marriage, asks her if her heart is disengaged : she says yes, and the suitor arrives. Detected in a scene with her real lover, Juliana declares he is urging a suit towards her cousin : to get rid of the husband intro- duced by her father, she announces that her parent is a bankrupt ; and produces the evil she only invented. To crown her misery, she loses the lover for whom she had. woven such a web of false- hood; who, disgusted with her conduct, marries the cousin. And here the drama should have terminated. But an auditor, where persons are embodied before him, can endure an unhappy ending even less than a reader ; so the generous suitor, Willmar, averts the bankruptcy, and, struck with the candour of Juliana's avowals; allows his love to triumph over his reason. This play in variety and interest is inferior to " The Uncle," but, with deference to Mrs. JAMESON. better than the rest. The whole is only adapted for a patient audience, but there are parts that would tell on any stage. For example, this dialogue between the newly-arrived suitor and a parasitical hanger-on, who wishes to pump him, has a true dramatic briskness.

MEERFELD.

Have I the honour to see Herr Freymann ?

wrESEL (aside.) The deuce ! he's not of our town—a new tree entirely. (Aloud.) Herr Freymann, did von say ? No, I an not that gentleman, but his oldest and best friend ; and so, if you have any business with him- MEErtrELD (examining him.) I merely came to pay hint a visit.

WIESEL.

May I know your worshipful name ?

MEERFELD.

The name doesn't signify.

WIESEL.

Why—yes—very true indeed—the name does not signify, as you say; but I can hardy t1111101111Ce you as Mr. Anonymous—he, he !

MEEEFELD.

Then pray tell hint, the gentleman he expected is here.

WIESEL.

The gentleman he expects is Herr Meerwand—no, Meerfeld, from Hamburg. And so you are Herr 3leerfeld of Hamburg! You see I am informed of every- thing, and consequently you steed not be under any restraint on my account, my dear Sir.

Not in the least.

WIESEL.

I not only know who you arc, but what you arc come for.

MEERFELD.

Indeed !

WIESEL.

And upon my word, you know what you are about, and no mistake ! Mam-

sell Juliana is a most beautiful young lady, and her father's sole heiress.

MEERFELD.

Be so good as to tell me what is your office in this house ? (Aside.) This

fellow is insufferable I

MEERFELD.

MEERFELD.

Your most obedient.

MERE&

No compliments, pray: I hate them deadly.

MEERFELD.

Not worth while.

WIESEL.

You were expected to dinner to-day : how is

seeing you ? MEERFELD.

I was not invited, that I know of.

VrIESEID.

How 2—what 2—that was a terrible blunder. I know Herr Freymann in- tended it. I conjure you, my most worthy Sir, to pardon the oversight. That's just the way with servants, when one trusts to them. Ay, I will cer- tainly give it to them soundly for this

MEERFELD.

Are you the master here, then ?

WESEL.

Pardon me ; I am, on the contrary, every one's most humble servant.

The "Princely Bride" is curious as the picture of a petty Ger- man court painted by a princess, but it has little other interest; for the low tone of morals is open and unredeemed, the virtue exagge- rated and improbable. The " Young Ward," though written, like all the dramas, with elegance, appears to us neither pleasing, pro- bable, nor dramatic in its subject ; and although the " Country Cousins" may admit of more theatrical effects, we cannot form a very different judgment of it. In the best of the other dramas, foreign manners are the form—in these two they are the substance.

it we had not the honour of