GEORGE CHAPMAN.

Bussy D’Ambois, Byron’s Conspiracy, Byron’s Tragedy, &c. &c.—­Webster has happily characterized the “full and heightened style” of Chapman, who, of all the English play-writers, perhaps approaches nearest to Shakspeare in the descriptive and didactic, in passages which are less purely dramatic.  He could not go out of himself, as Shakspeare could shift at pleasure, to inform and animate other existences, but in himself he had an eye to perceive and a soul to embrace all forms and modes of being.  He would have made a great epic poet, if indeed he has not abundantly shown himself to be one; for his Homer is not so properly a translation as the stories of Achilles and Ulysses rewritten.  The earnestness and passion which he has put into every part of these poems would be incredible to a reader of mere modern translations.  His almost Greek zeal for the glory of his heroes can only be paralleled by that fierce spirit of Hebrew bigotry, with which Milton, as if personating one of the zealots of the old law, clothed himself when he sat down to paint the acts of Samson against the uncircumcised.  The great obstacle to Chapman’s translations being read, is their unconquerable quaintness.  He pours out in the same breath the most just and natural, and the most violent and crude expressions.  He seems to grasp at whatever words come first to hand while the enthusiasm is upon him, as if all other must be inadequate to the divine meaning.  But passion (the all in all in poetry) is everywhere present, raising the low, dignifying the mean, and putting sense into the absurd.  He makes his readers glow, weep, tremble, take any affection which he pleases, be moved by words, or in spite of them, be disgusted, and overcome their disgust.

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FRANCIS BEAUMONT.—­JOHN FLETCHER.

Maid’s Tragedy.—­One characteristic of the excellent old poets is, their being able to bestow grace upon subjects which naturally do not seem susceptible of any.  I will mention two instances.  Zelmane in the Arcadia of Sidney, and Helena in the All’s Well that Ends Well of Shakspeare.  What can be more unpromising, at first sight, than the idea of a young man disguising himself in woman’s attire, and passing himself off for a woman among women; and that for a long space of time?  Yet Sir Philip has preserved so matchless a decorum, that neither does Pyrocles’ manhood suffer any stain for the effeminacy of Zelmane, nor is the respect due to the princesses at all diminished when the deception comes to be known.  In the sweetly-constituted mind of Sir Philip Sidney, it seems as if no ugly thought or unhandsome meditation could find a harbor.  He turned all that he touched into images of honor and virtue.  Helena in Shakspeare is a young woman seeking a man in marriage.  The ordinary rules of courtship are reversed, the habitual feelings are crossed.  Yet with such exquisite address this