Stanislas Julien, the able successor of the lamented Remusút, as professor of Chinese in the college of Paris, has worthily commenced his official career by publishing a new translation of the Orphan of China, one of the most interesting and characteristic dramas in any language. It is well known that Premare, in the beginning of the last century, published a version of this drama, on which Voltaire founded his celebrated tragedy, L'Orphelin de la Chine; but it is not equally well known that Premare's version was very defective, and especially that he omitted the operatic parts, which are precisely those that enable us best to form a correct judgment of Chinese literature. In addition to a very close and almost literal translation of the drama, M. Julien gives us, from native historians, the circumstances on which the author has founded his plot, and has added notes, explaining the remote allusions to which the Chinese are so prone, especially in their lyrical effusions. He has added three historical tales, now for the first time translated, and several short Chinese poems, which are curious rather than interesting. Julien's translation is strictly literal, being designed for students rather than general readers. In our analysis we shall use a wider latitude of interpretation, because to us the substance is more important than the form.

The historical facts on which the drama is founded may be told in a few words. The kingdom of Tsin, originally established as an appanage for the junior branches of the imperial family, attained great power about the beginning of the sixth century before the Christian era: its prosperity was principally owing to the noble house of Tchao, from whence sprung a long line of illustrious warriors and statesmen. An envious rival resolved to destroy

the entire race, and by artifice obtained a royal order for the purpose. All the males of the house of Tchao were slain; but the wife of one of them was pregnant, and she was closely confined, that her child, if a boy, should be murdered as soon as born. Tching-ing, a faithful friend of the unhappy family, rescued the infant by sacrificing his own child, whom he gave to the assassins as the orphan heir of Tchao. He educated as his own child the boy whose life he had so dearly purchased; and when he attained a suitable age, revealed to him the secret of his birth. Young Tchao revenged the wrongs of his family, restored the fortunes of his house, and was the ancestor of a new race of warriors and statesmen, whose fame equalled that of their ancestors.

The drama opens with a prologue, spoken by Tou-An-Kou, the hereditary enemy of the house of Tchao. He tells us his name, as indeed do all the other personages when they first appear; because in China the same actor frequently performs several parts, which, without such a precaution, would, of course, cause great confusion. Tou-An-Kou recites the following

seat. After a long discussion, it is resolved that Tching-ing shall take the orphan home, and bring his own child to Kong-Sun, whom he shall then denounce to Tou-An-Kou; one agreeing to sacrifice his child, and the other himself, to prevent the extinction of the house of Tchao.

In the third act this extraordinary plan is put into execution. Tou-AnKou, with his followers, come to the house of Kong-Sun, and cruelly torture him, to extort a confession. This scene is one of deep interest, for the old councillor, overcome by pain, loses his presence of mind, and all but confesses the real truth. We shall extract a portion of it.

Tou-An-Kou.-Old wretch! haste to confess where you have concealed the orphan; it is the only means by which you can escape the torture.

Kong-Sun.-What orphan could I have? where could I hide him? who has seen me?

:

Tou-An-Kou. So you do not wish to confess seize him soldiers, and chastise him as he deserves. (They administer the bastinado.)—Is it not enough to make one boil with rage, to see such an ugly old fellow as that, obstinately refuse to confess? Tching-ing, since you were his accuser, I order you to punish him.

Tching-ing. My Lord, I am a physician, and know nothing but how to collect and compound simples. My arms are weak and feeble; how could I manage the cane?

Tou-An-Kou. So you will not chastise him! Doubtless you fear that he will denounce you as his accomplice. Tching-ing.--Oh, very well, I will chastise him.

[Tching-ing takes the cane, and gives Kong-Sun several blows.] Kong-Sun.-Alas! of all the blows I have received, the last were the most Who was it that struck me? Tou-An-Kou.--It was Tching-ing that struck you.

severe.

Kong-Sun.-Ah, Tching-ing, I ought not to have been struck by you.

Tching-ing.-My Lord General, the blows he has received have deprived the wretched man of his reason.

Kong-Sun sings.

What cruel wretch is he, whose blow
So truly shews my deadly foe?
Cruel Tching-ing the cause relate
Of this your fierce envenom'd hate.
With tortures why assail my life,
Between us never was there strife?

I cast a secret glance around-
Ha! he is deadly pale;

He's sinking slowly to the ground,
His limbs beneath him fail.

Tching-ing, (partly recovering himself.)ble of killing you with blows. Hasten to confess, and spare me the trou

Kong-Sun.--I am ready. I am ready. (He sings.)

Together the fear and the danger we brav'd, And anxiously sought how the child should be sav'd.

Tou-An-Kou.--I perceive that you are about to denounce your accomplice. Since two were engaged in the transaction, you must necessarily have been one. Tell me the name of the other, and I will spare your life.

Kong-Sun.-You wish to discover my accomplice. I will tell; I will tell. (He sings.)

Alas! to my tongue at that moment it came, It is swallow'd again-I pronounce not the

name.

Tou-An-Kou, (observing Tching-ing's confusion.)-Is it possible, Tching-ing, that you have any connection with this affair?

Tching-ing. Oh, you old fool! are you going to denounce an innocent man? Kong-Sun.-Why are you so troubled? (He sings.)

Why tremble, Tching-ing, when your name is unspoken?

My body is rent, but my soul is unbroken. Your purposes fail; but mine, certain and sure, To the end, as they were at the first, shall endure.

Tou-An-Kou. You spoke just now of two guilty persons: how comes it to pass that you speak at present as if there

were none.

At this moment a soldier enters, bearing Tching-ing's child, who is, of course, supposed to be the orphan of the house of Tchao. Tou-an-Kou interrogates Kong-Sun; but the old councillor becomes more mysterious, more musical, and of course more provoking. At length Tou-an-Kou stabs the child. Tching-ing, in the agony of paternal grief, alınost betrays his secret; and Kong-Sun, to distract the attention of Tou-an-Kou, sings a prophetic rhapsody, denouncing woes and vengeance. He then, like the fabled swan, warbles his own elegy, and commits suicide. Tou-an-Kou, believing every danger past, expresses his gratitude to Tching-ing, and sings an ode of triumph.

Twenty years are supposed to elapse between the third and fourth acts. The orphan has now attained the age of manhood; his military prowess has attracted the notice of Tou-an-Kou, who has adopted him as his own son. Tching-ing places before him a series of pictures, in which the misfortunes of his family are delineated; and when he asks for an explanation, reveals to him the secret of his birth. The orphan is distracted by gratitude for the unparalelled devotion of Tchinging, and rage against the murderer of his family but Tching-ing desires him to calm his emotious, and concentrate all his thoughts on vengeance.

The fifth act opens with the account of the effect that the discovery of Tou-an-Kou's treachery has produced on the king's mind. Ling-Kong is anxious to punish the traitor, but he fears his influence over the army. The orphan, however, has undertaken the hazardous task of his arrest, which he accomplishes with equal skill and bold

ness.

The drama concludes with the

punishment of Tou-an-Kou, the restoration of the orphan to his hereditary dignity, and the elevation of Tchinging to the highest honours.

One incident has been omitted by the dramatist, which the historian has recorded. It is too interesting and too characteristic to be passed over.

"When Tchao-Wou (the orphan,) took the dress of manhood, Tching-ing bade adieu to all the magistrates; and then said to Tchao-Wou- Formerly, when misfortune overwhelmed the second Tchao have had the courage to die. If palace, all the persons of the house of I have dared to survive them, it is not because I feared death, but because I was anxious to preserve the heir of Tchao. Now that Tchao-Wou is established in his rights, and has recovered the dignity that belonged to him, I must hasten into the other world, that I may inform Tchao-Tun and Kong-Sun of what has happened.

"Tchao-Wou was overwhelmed with affliction at these words: he struck his forehead against the earth, and begged him to lay aside his fatal purpose. I was desirous,' said he, to exhaust body and soul, in order to prove my gratitude; can you be so insensible to my grief as to quit me and die?'

"It most be! It must be !' exclaimed Tching-ing; Tchao-Tun and KongSun have believed me able to reestablish you in your rights, and have therefore died first. If I do not go to tell them that their desires are accomplished, they will believe that I could not execute my design.' He spoke, and plunged a dagger into his bosom.

"Tchao-Wou wore for three years the mourning usual on the death of a parent, and assigned the revenues of an entire estate to pay for funeral sacrifices. These sacrifices had not fallen into desuetude when the historian wrote."

It is not our purpose to offer any critical opinion on the merits of this drama. Chinese literature should be judged by a Chinese standard. All that a European critic has a right to do, is to illustrate the nature of that standard, by shewing what are the works that have been sanctioned by popular approbation in China. Leaving the drama, then, to stand or fall by its own merits, we turn to the historical novels, which Stanislas Julien has now, for the first time, translated. They are three