ere are some parts, not so good as others, in this
comedy, there is no one character superior to the rest, nor any one in
particular, which makes a forcible impression on the memory:--this
proves, (in consequence of the acknowledged merit of the play) the fable
to be a good one, and that a pleasing combination has been studied and
effected by the author, with infinite skill, however incompetent to his
own brilliant imagination.

The plot, and serious characters of this comedy, are said to be taken
from a play of Kotzebue's, called, "The Duke of Burgundy,"--if they are,
Mr. Morton's ingenuity of adapting them to our stage has been equal to
the merit he would have had in conceiving them; for that very play
called, "The Duke of Burgundy," by some verbal translator,--was
condemned or withdrawn at Covent Garden Theatre, not very long before
"Speed the Plough" was received with the highest marks of admiration.

The characters of Sir Philip Blandford, his brother, and his nephew, may
have been imported from Germany, but surely, all the other personages of
the drama are of pure English growth.

The reception of this play, when first performed, and the high station
it still holds in the public opinion, should make criticism cautious of
attack--but as works of genuine art alone are held worthy of
investigation, and as all examinations tend to produce a degree of
censure, as well as of praise, "Speed the Plough" is not exempt from the
general lot of every favourite production.

An auditor will be much better pleased with this play, than a reader;
for though it is well written, and interspersed with many poetical
passages, an attentive peruser will find inconsistencies in the
arrangement of the plot and incidents, which an audience, absorbed in
expectation of final events, and hurried away by the charm of scenic
interest, cannot easily detect.

The most prominent of these blemishes are:--Miss Blandford falls in love
with a plough-boy at first-sight, which she certainly would not have
done, but that some preternatural agent whispered to her, he was a young
man of birth. But whether this magical information came from the
palpitation of her heart, or the quickness of her eye, she has not
said.--A reader will, however, gladly impute the cause of her sudden
passion to magic, rather than to the want of female refinement.

The daughter has not less decorum in love, than the father in
murder.--That a character, grave and stern, as Si