although he does not owe his present elevation to the Constitutional advisers of the King, has not been helped into his seat by some kind whisperers nearer to the throne. We find no fault with this, Mr. Canning no doubt obtained his appointment by fair means; but it is curious to see how cunningly the very men who are constant in their outcry against prerogative, can make use of it when it suits their purpose so to do. The prerogative of his Majesty cannot extend to compel any one to serve under Mr. Canning; and if his Majesty has been placed in an improper situation by the numerous resignations, the blame ought rather to rest with Mr. Canning, who should not have accepted office until he had first mustered his forces; he should not have assumed the vacant seat until he had ascertained whether amongst his personal friends, or those whom a similarity of opinion rendered willing to serve under him, there could, be found a set of men competent to fill the council of the Sovereign. If he had done this, the resignations might not have been prevented, but at least we should have been spared the knowledge that his Majesty's Prime Minister had been doing every thing, except advertising, to obtain assistants. We are sure that the manner in which Mr. Canning's new friends have treated those with whom he has hitherto acted, cannot meet with his approval, we are certain that he cannot join in the infamous abuse which has been heaped upon these "brutes," as they were beautifully termed by one of Mr. C's new confederates.

We know that Mr. Canning must disapprove of these his new advocates: we blame him not for their misdeeds, but we cannot conceal our regret, that in order to maintain himself in office, he should have condescended to call to his aid that party whose conduct he once declared he could not think of " as a Briton without feeling shame.” Mr. Canning is a Pittite; he has hitherto boasted himself to be a pupil of Mr. Pitt; he has inculcated his precepts; he has followed his example.

The men whom Mr. Canning has courted, with some of whom he has joined, are of a party to whom the name of Pitt is as wormwood; men who have reviled and insulted his memory, his course of policy, and all who have acted upon it; men against whose political principles all the great powers of Mr. Canning have been throughout his life exerted, and whose conduct towards himself he has often made a subject of complaint; and yet these are the men to whom Mr. Canning has applied for support! We are sorry for it, we seek not to widen breaches, or tear open healing wounds, but the alliance is unnatural, and cannot last long.

Up to the moment at which we write, the various necessary arrangements have not been completed, but amongst those which are determined upon, we may notice the new Chancellor, Sir John Singleton Copley, now Lord Lyndhurst. The time has at length arrived when the name of Lord Eldon will assume its proper station in the history of our country. The rancorous clamours which have been raised against this venerable nobleman, will soon subside, and give place to that admiration which must be felt by all who are

capable of appreciating the exalted wisdom which is to be found in the reports of his proceedings in the Court of Chancery. We mean no disparagement to Lord Lyndhurst, who is a man of ability, although as a common lawyer out of his place in the Court of Chancery; but we are sure that it will be a long time before the public or the profession will look up to his decisions with any thing like the respect which those of his predecessor have commanded. Lord Eldon is an old man, and according to the course of nature, could not have held the seals long; for ourselves, we cannot but regret that they are no longer in his custody, although we honor him for his prompt resignation, which at once refutes the malicious slanderers who have described him to the world as a man without principle---one who right or wrong, adhered to place.

The Mastership of the Rolls has been given to Sir John Leach, a man of ability, who will be much better received than Mr. Plunkett. How the appointment of the latter gentleman could ever have been contemplated, is difficult to tell; a ministry which commenced by such an act would have been opposed by all the English Bar, and Mr. Plunkett himself would have found the Rolls no pleasant place. This mistake has been corrected, but at the expence of a most unconstitutional act---the gift of a peerage to Mr. Plunkett in order that he may advocate the ministry in the House of Lords. This is indeed a new state of things, and a new office," Drill-Serjeant to the House of Peers!" The Peers of Great Britain will no doubt thank Mr. Canning for the esteem in which he holds that distinction which has hitherto been the reward of superior wisdom or bravery, and never until now made a fee for a hired advocate!

The appointment of Mr Scarlett to be Attorney General, will be acceptable to the profession, but nobody can forget that Mr. Scarlet was a Whig.

The Admiralty, is to be filled by the Duke of Clarence, under the title of Lord High Admiral; an officer unknown in this country, for many years past. This appointment will give his royal highness an opportunity to become popular: but for our own parts, although we apprehend no danger in the present case, we cannot forget that it is a clear maxim of the constitution, not to place power in the hands of an heir presumptive.

The Marquis of Anglesea succeeds to the Ordnance; and we dare to say, will give satisfaction to the public.

Lord Dudley and Ward, the Foreign Secretary, is as yet little known: we fear he will furnish but a poor successor to Mr. Canning.

Besides these, there are several untried men, whose names add nothing to the credit of the administration: what their exertions may effect, remains to be seen.

OLD ENGLISH DRAMATISTS.-No. IV.

THE BROKEN HEART.

THIS tragedy is the production of John Ford, an edition of whose works, under the editorship of Mr. Gifford, has lately issued from the press. The play of "The Witch of Edmonton," formerly noticed by us, was the joint production it will be remembered of this author and Rowley and Dekker. The story of the present drama is one of melancholy interest, and is developed with considerable skill; a variety of incidents are introduced, but we shall confine ourselves to those from which the name of the play is derived. In the first scene, between Crotolon, a father, and Orgillus, his son, the antecedent circumstances are thus laid before the audience.

ORGIL. After so many quarrels, as dissension,

Fury, and rage had broach'd in blood, and sometimes

With death, to such confederates as sided

With now dead Thrasus and yourself, my lord,

Our present King Amiclas reconcil'd

Your eager swords, and seal'd a gentle peace :

Friends you possess'd yourselves; which, to confirm
A resolution for a lasting league

Betwixt your families, was entertain'd

By joining in a Hymenean bond

Me and the fair Penthea, only daughter
To Thrasus.

CROT. What of this?

ORGIL. Much, much, dear sir,—
A freedom of converse, an interchange
Of holy and chaste love, so fix'd our souls
In a firm growth of union, that no time
Can eat into the pledge. We had enjoy'd
The sweets our vows expected, had not cruelty
Prevented all those triumphs we prepar'd for
By Thrasus' most untimely death.

CROT. Most certain.

ORGIL. From this time sprouted up that poisonous stalk,

Of aconite, whose ripen'd fruit hath ravish'd

All health, all comfort of a happy life;

For Ithocles her brother, proud of youth

And prouder in his power, nourish'd closely

The memory of former discontents,

To glory in revenge. By cunning partly,

Partly by threats, he wooes at once and forces

His virtuous sister to admit a marriage

With Bassanes, a nobleman, in honour

And riches I confess beyond my fortunes.

CROT. All this is no sound reason to importune

My leave for thy departure.

ORGIL. Now it follows.

Beauteous Penthea, wedded to this torture,
By an insulting brother, being secretly
Compell'd to yield her virgin freedom up
To him who never can usurp her heart,
Before contracted mine, is now so yok'd
To a most barbarous thraldom, misery,
Affliction, that savours not humanity.
Whose sorrow melts not into more than pity
In hearing but her name?

CROT. As how pray?

ORGIL. Bassanes,

The man that calls her wife, considers truly
What heaven of perfections he is lord of
By thinking fair Penthea his. This thought
Begets a kind of monster-love, which love
Is nurse unto a fear so strong and servile,
As brands all dotage with a jealousy.
All eyes who gaze upon that shrine of beauty
He doth resolve, do homage to the miracle;
Some one he is assur'd, may now or then,
If opportunity but suit, prevail.

So much out of a self-unworthiness

His fears transport him, not that he finds cause
In her obedience, but his own distrust.

CROT. You spin out your discourse.
ORGIL. My griefs are violent;

For knowing how the maid was heretofore
Courted by me, his jealousies grow wild
That I should steal again into her favours,

And undermine her virtues, which the gods

Know I nor dare nor dream of. Hence-from hence-
First, by my absence, to take off the cares

Of jealous Bassanes, but chiefly, Sir,

To free Penthea from a hell on earth:
Lastly to lose the memory of something

Her presence makes to live in me afresh."

Upon this foundation the chief action of the play is built. Orgillus does not in reality go into exile, but merely assumes a disguise, and retires to an unfrequented place, where, under pretence of studying sciences, he the better watches the proceedings of Panthea, her brother Ithocles, and her husband Bassanes. Ithocles, who has been absent upon a military expedition, returns at this time crowned by success, and is received with great favor by his sovereign and the people. The jealousy of Bassanes, and the evident unhappiness of the unfortunate Penthea, render the glorious conqueror sick at heart, and in the midst of spectacles and shows contrived to grace his triumph, and do him honor; he grievously repents the misery which he has caused to his sister by her forced marriage. Penthea, who is drawn by the poet as the meekest, mildest, most virtuous of beings, still remains in heart attached to Orgillus, but combats her secret love, and endeavours to satisfy her jealous, weak-minded, and discontented husband. Bassanes himself indeed loves his beauteous wife; but his suspicion of her, and all who approach her, is most excessive; he hires a woman (Grausis) to attend Penthea---to watch her conduct, and report to him her conversation; he blocks up the windows of his house, and adopts a variety of other equally sagacious expedients to procure food for his reigning passion. The following is the scene in which Penthea is first introduced. Bassanes is moralizing.

"Swarms of confusion huddle in my thought
In rare distemper. Beauty! Oh, 'tis

An unmatch'd blessing, or a horrid curse!

[Enter Penthea, and Grausis

She comes! she comes! so shoots the morning forth,

Spangled with pearls of transparent dew.

The way to poverty is to be rich

As I in her am wealthy, but for her

In all contents a bankrupt.-Lov'd Penthea!
How fares my heart's best joy?

GRAU. In sooth not well,

She is over sad.

BASS. Leave chattering magpie

Thy brother is return'd, sweet! safe and honor'd
With a triumphant victory: thou shalt visit him;
We will to Court, where, if it be thy pleasure,
Thou shalt appear in such a ravishing lustre
Of jewels above value, that the dames
Who brave it there, in rage to be outshin'd,
Shall hide them in their closets, and unseen
Fret in their tears; while every wandering eye
Shall crave none other brightness but thy presence,
Choose thine own recreations; be a Queen

Of what delights thou fanciest best, what company,
What place, what times, do any thing, do all things
Youth can command: so thou wilt chase these clouds
From the pure firmament of thy fair looks.

GRAU. Now 'tis well said my lord, what lady! laugh,
Be merry, time is precious.

BASS. Furies whip thee.

(To Graus.)

PENT. Alas, my lord! this language to your handmaid

Sounds as would music to the deaf. I need

No braveries nor cost of art, to draw

The whiteness of my name into offence.
Let such (if any such there are) who covet,
A curiosity of admiration,

By laying out their plenty to full view,
Appear in gaudy outsides; my attires
Shall suit the inward fashion of mind,
From which, if your opinion nobly plac'd,
Change not the livery your words bestow,

My fortunes with my hopes are at the highest.

BASS. This house methinks stands somewhat too much inward;

It is too melancholy, we'll remove

Nearer the Court; or what thinks my Penthea

Of the delightful island we command ?

Rule me as thou canst wish.

PENT. I am no mistress;

Whither you please, I must attend; all ways

Are alike pleasant to me."

Thus submissive, and thus melancholy, the amiable creature enters into the gaiety of the Court only to form a striking contrast to its merry humors. Her brother is pretty nearly as unhappy, and finds not the charm of that ambition the splendour of which surrounds him. He thus beautifully moralizes upon this subject:

"Ambition! 'tis of viper's breed, it gnaws

A passage through the womb that gave it motion.
Ambition, like a seeled* dove, mounts upward
Higher and higher still to perch on clouds,
But tumbles headlong down with heavier ruin !".

After some time Orgillus, by the favor of some fortunate circumstances, obtains an interview with Penthea, which is highly dramatic

• Blinded.