University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Mermaid

An Interlude. In Two Acts
  
  

collapse section1. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 
collapse section2. 
 1. 
 2. 
 3. 

  

493

NOTE ON The Mermaid.
BY A FRIEND OF THE EDITOR.

The little drama which we have here presented to our readers, is one of those happy novelties, to which only the playfulness of genius, intentionally sporting with its own powers, and with the legitimate laws of composition, would give birth; and we will venture to say, that but for the inducement of a work like ours, it probably would never have been written. The piece is evidently not adapted to the stage; and as a dramatic composition, it is of too small an extent, and perhaps too much in the nature of a sketch, to attract attention as a separate publication. Here it is in its proper place; unencumbered with any pretensions calculated to detract from its effect as a work of fancy. The character of Marina is wholly original; and we really do not know in what department of modern literature we could point out to our readers a fiction so skilfully and delicately contrived as this “gay creature of the element.” Perhaps it is not going too far to say, that out of Shakespeare's Tempest a more delightful creation of poetical fancy is scarcely to be found. The witch Elpa is drawn in a more grotesque taste, yet with much strength and originality; and a very powerful talent for description is evinced in the account given of her by Lady Beneild to her son.

The Editor takes the liberty of subjoining, that characters purely imaginary seem to be peculiar to the British drama. In the Spanish, saints and devils are sometimes introduced, to heighten the spectacle of the scene, and to unravel knotty points


494

of the plot: but saints and devils have been so long familiar to the world, that the introduction of them into the business of the stage does not require any great exertion of the inventive faculty of the poet.

There is another observation which such a production as The Mermaid may possibly suggest to the reader. Of the different varieties of the modern drama, perhaps, indeed, of all dramatic writing, either ancient or modern, the British exhibits the greatest stock of rich and curious fancy; which, perhaps, more than any other cause, tends to render our plays tedious to the people of the Continent. There is less activity in the continental mind than in the insular. The French display, it is true, infinitely more animal vivacity than the English; but we suspect that the English are more rapid in their mental operations, and that although the former make more gesticulations in any given time, the latter, in the same time, think more thoughts; at least it will be allowed that in the dialogue of the drama the French dilate their sentiments into downright declamation, while the English are content merely to touch the keys of association in the minds of their auditors. To do this with effect requires much delicacy in selecting the governing image, if the expression may be used; and the search for this has probably produced that curiously inlaid metaphorical language which is peculiar to the English dramatists, and in which Shakspeare so eminently excels.