Review of Miss Benger's Life of Tobin. He flattered himself he should soon be well, and calculated with such precision the duration of his absence, and referred with such confidence to his restoration to England, that it appeared almost impossible to distrust the accomplishment of his predictions. Although his debility was hourly increasing, he continued to collect materials for future plays; to cherish aspirations for excellence; to indulge the dreams of happiness and fame.p. 119. Late in November he embarked at Bristol, and shortly reached Cork. Such were the impressions with which, in the afternoon of the 7th of December, he commenced his voyage; the night proved boisterous, but it passed quietly with Tobin, who had retired to his bed, and dismissed his attendant. Towards morning, the wind became contrary, and it was judged expedient to return to Cork harbour. Amidst the bustle and confusion incident to this situation, it was remarked that all was silent in Tobin's cabin; but this circumstance excited little surprise in those accustomed to witness his habitual self-possession and composures No suspicions were entertained of his safety; and it was simply to offer refreshment, that his attendant approached the bed, when it was discovered that the poet indeed slept-to wake no more. It was in vain to surmise at what moment he breathed his last; no groan was heard, no murmur escaped his lips: and it is with reason to be presumed, that the stream of life ran pure to the last drop, and that death came like a peaceful slumber after the festival of enjoyment. p.118.19. Such is the substance of the outline given us by Miss Benger, of the life of JOHN TOBIN, and we must regret that in her admiration of his character she suppressed the circumstances of private life, and confined all her sketch to his dramatic career. It is one of the privileges of the biographer to descend, as far as propriety will admit, into domestic virtues and actions, for it is from these that the nature and habits are drawn, and the general worth estimated. Miss Benger, however, has not left us in total ignorance of the poet's disposition, for she has interspersed her work with occasional observations of his peculiarities and excellence. He was one of an amiable temper of mind, consistent and gentle, yet possessing that carelessness and heedlessness about personal affairs that too often mark the man of genius. Thus she speaks of the admonitions offered to him by his brother. In every action of life, accustomed to regulate his conduct by fixed principles, he could not help deploring the poet's habitual neglect of those minor duties, to which he justly attached importance. His reproofs were often conveyed in a tone of raillery, and always received by the delinquent with so good a grace, as proved he was utterly incorrigible. The happy serenity of his temper was unalterable by chance or circumstance; and whether he missed the money he had dropped from his purse, or discovered the premature dilapidations in his ward robe, or listened to the objurgations of his friendly monitor, he constantly preserved his gaiety and good humour.—p. 65-6. The affection that subsisted between the brothers-the unbroken anxiety of the one about the welfare of the other— Review of Miss Benger's Life of Tobin. the exertions that knew no pause-the spirit that rose superior to disappointment—are all depicted with a considerable degree of animation. The following is an interesting picture of the harmony that lived between them: On some occasions the brothers seemed to change characters; when a rejected play was returned from the manager, it was Mr. James Tobin that appeared to suffer, whilst his brother broke the ominous seal with smiling composure. Never were two men more perfectly formed to harmonize, to unite together; they must know little of the human heart, who would require to be informed, that the difference of temperament, the partial opposition in habits and conduct, by rendering them more completely dependent on each other, contributed to rivet the ties of attachment. It was remarked of the poet, that in his literary capacity, his ordinary habits of improvidence were completely inverted, since he hoarded even his lyrical stanzas with such jealous care, that he could seldom be induced to lend a single song to any periodical publication. Even his social instincts, originally so strong and ardent, confessed the supremacy of his master passion; and, attached as he was to his brother's society, he gladly availed himself of his absence to write in a solitary apartment; not even his faculty of abstraction rendering him indifferent to the privileges of quiet and seclusion.p. 66-7. In the year 1815, Mr. James Tobin died, of whose character and talents Miss Benger speaks in the highest terms. We must own it is a matter of surprise to us that in detailing the attention of Mr. James Tobin to his brother, she totally omitted any notice of the other members of the familysurely, it could not proceed from a want of materials, for she acknowledges that she had the best sources in the perusal of the papers of the deceased, and in the conversations of the survivor. It was inconsistent to forget in the subsequent pages the existence of a third brother whom she mentions in the early part of the work, and whose private excellence, and general worth entitle him to a better eulogy than it is in our power to bestow. Of the stile and conduct of this work we have but to observe, that the author appears to possess a considerable knowledge of theatrical affairs, and a correct judgment in treating of them. Some general remarks on the drama at the conclusion evince much taste and talent, and there is a perspicuity and simplicity throughout, that would be creditable to writers who have attained a higher eminence than Miss Benger. The volume is principally composed of Tobin's hitherto unpublished Plays. As we are limited in room we will briefly notice them. The first in the collection is an analysis of LA GITANILLA DE MADRID, from the celebrated Don Antonio de Solis. It is but a fragment, and as Tobin appeared dissatisfied himself with this attempt we will not dwell upon it. VOL. I.-NO. II. Review of Miss Benger's Life of Tobin. To this follows the "Tragedy," a fragment, written in 1794. This is a four-act piece; it is in blank verse, and possesses eminent poetical merit. It has, however, the fault of most of Tobin's plays it wants originality of plot. The imagery and sentiments in many places equal his best efforts. We present the following as a specimen. Montano. Brianthe. MONTANO AND BRIANTHE. Brianthe! You were the latest in my thoughts. The state Thanks, good Montano, And leaves, with equal pride, the desert spot And the fair laughing land whose beauteous bosom Montano. Oh, had I power (as I am rich in will,) To cheat thy bosom of one lab'ring sigh, Speak on, speak on, Montano. I fain would prove so. When thick temptations throng on every side, Brianthe. Nay, think not so. That blows too freely on him; and the winds Montano. Is he not noble minded? wild indeed Of wing, and flush'd with youth: but what of that? Review of Miss Benger's Life of Tobin. And mitigate his speed: but who can give But who can fertilize sterility? Brianthe. True, true,--Montano; and thou warm'st my heart Montano. Brianthe. Oh, for shame! for shame! No more, I must not hear it. Heedless to give the wound she cannot cure. Thy fame in arms approv'd and generous offers; By reason's sober light to fix its choice, But wild and wanton sends abroad the eye To cater for the heart-then think no more Of me and thy past love so ill requited, But from your high-born dames of prouder lineage, Select a heart, and weave your fates together. No touch of joy like straining to thy breast, In the pure folds of hymeneal love, Her whom your choice has sorted from the world Its mingled cup of gall and honey with thee. But love misplac'd is the extremity Of human bitterness-indulge it not; "Twill feed upon the spring-time of thy youth, Where one fierce passion ranging uncontrouled, Forgive this tedious homily, which has nought pa. 193-7. The INDIANS, a Play, in five Acts, succeeds the "Tragedy." It is in blank verse, with the exception of the character of Florio, a lover, who is better suited, most in Review of Miss Benger's Life of Tobin. judiciously, for Comedy than a serious Play. It contains some brilliant passages-but the author appears to have failed in the deep bursts of feeling and passion. When he delineated the calm and unruffled soul, or the light and minute traits of the mind, he succeeded above any cotemporary poet-but in the hurried and darker descriptions he was not so happy. The following is very nervous. Zelico. Gonsalvo. If we had slept, Ungrasped these tomahawks, these bows unstrung, The Creeks enter with Fernandez and Florio. (Goes to embrace them. Zelico. (stopping him.) A moment's patience, Sir, these are our captives; Look at them well; you will not find a hair Of either touched, or a scratch on their white skins; Gonsalvo. (after a pause.) Merciful Heaven! who sent the message? Gonsalvo. What, that my son was tortured? Zelico. Yes, I sent it. Gonsalvo. Wherefore? Zelico. That Raymond's body, as thou doom'dst it, Might glut the ocean cannibals. Gonsalvo. Thou fiend! Fernandez. Horrible! Florio. Who ever heard of such a devil! Gonsalvo. Oh! Raymond! Raymond! Zelico. Shall I call him for thee? Raymond, awake! tis thine assassin calls; By yonder trembling victim of his power, Would breathe back life into thy mortal wounds. The wat'ry shroud shake off, That dins about thine ears; and, like the sun, Enter Raymond, Zoa, and Almanza. Thou? or thy spirit? |