The Dutch papers report the death, at Amsterdam, aged seventy-two, of a marine painter of eminence, M. Kockkoek, father of the distinguished landscape painter of the same name.
Joanna Baillie, whose literary life reached back into the last century, and whose early recollections were of the days of Burke, Dr. Johnson, Goldsmith, Sir Joshua Reynolds, and the great men who figured before the French Revolution, died at Hampsted, near London, on the evening of Sunday, the twenty-third of February, at the great age of nearly ninety years. During the principal part of her life she lived with a maiden sister, Agnes—also a poetess—to whom she addressed her beautiful Birthday poem. They were of a family in which talent and genius were hereditary. Their father was a Scottish clergyman, and their mother a sister of the celebrated Dr. William Hunter. They were born at Bothwell, within a short distance of the rippling of the broad waters of the Clyde. Joanna's child-life and associations are beautifully mirrored in the poem to which we have alluded. Early in life the sisters removed to London, where their brother, the late Sir Matthew Baillie—the favorite medical adviser of George III.—was settled as a physician, and there her earliest poetical works appeared, anonymously. When she began to write, she tells us in one of her prefaces, not one of the eminent authors of modern times was known, and Mr. Hayley and Miss Seward were the poets spoken of in society. The brightest stars in the poetical firmament, with very few exceptions, have risen and set since then; the greatest revolutions in empire and in opinion have taken place; but she lived on as if no echo of the upturnings and overthrows which filled the world reached the quiet of her home; the freshness of her inspirations untarnished; writing from the fulness of a true heart of themes belonging equally to all the ages. Personally she was scarcely known in literary society; but from her first appearance as an author, no woman commanded more respect and admiration by her works; and the most celebrated of her contemporaries vied with each other in doing her honor. Scott calls her the Shakspeare of her sex:
——"The wild harp silent hung
By silver Avon's holy shore,
Till twice a hundred years roll'd o'er,
When she, the bold enchantress, came
With fearless hand and heart on flame,—
From the pale willow snatched the treasure,
And swept it with a kindred measure,
Till Avon's swans, while rung the grove
With Montfort's hate and Basil's love,
Awakening at the inspiring strain
Deem'd their own Shakspeare lived again!"
Her first volume was published in 1798, under the title, A Series of Plays, in which it is attempted to delineate the stronger Passions of the Mind, each Passion being the subject of a Tragedy and a Comedy. A second volume was published in 1802, and a third in 1812. During the interval, she gave the world a volume of miscellaneous dramas, including the Family Legend, a tragedy founded upon a story of one of the Macleans of Appin, which, principally through the good offices of Sir Walter Scott, was brought out at the Edinburgh Theatre. She visited Scott, in Edinburgh, in 1808, and in the following year the Family Legend was played in that city fourteen nights in succession. Scott wrote for it a prologue, and Mackenzie, the author of The Man of Feeling, contributed an epilogue. The same piece was performed in London in 1814. The only "Play of the Passions" ever represented on a stage was De Montfort, first brought out by John Kemble and Mrs. Siddons, and played eleven nights. In 1821 it was revived by Edmund Kean, but fruitlessly. Miss O'Neil then played the heroine. Kean subsequently brought out De Montfort in Philadelphia and New-York. No actors of inferior genius have ventured to attempt it, and probably it will not again be represented.
The "Plays of the Passions" are Miss Baillie's most remarkable works. In this series each passion is made the subject of a tragedy and a comedy. In the comedies she failed completely; they are pointless tales in dialogue. Her tragedies, however, have great merit, though possessing a singular quality for works of such an aim, in being without the earnestness and abruptness of actual and powerful feeling. By refinement and elaboration she makes the passions sentiments. She fears to distract attention by multiplying incidents; her catastrophes are approached by the most gentle gradations; her dramas are therefore slow in action and deficient in interest. Her characters possess little individuality; they are mere generalizations of intellectual attributes, theories personified. The very system of her plays has been the subject of critical censure. The chief object of every dramatic work is to please and interest, and this object may be arrived at as well by situation as by character. Character distinguishes one person from another, while by passion nearly all men are alike. A controlling passion perverts character, rather than develops it; and it is therefore in vain to attempt the delineation of a character by unfolding the progress of a passion. It has been well observed too, that unity of passion is impossible since to give a just relief and energy to any particular passion, it should be presented in opposition to one of a different sort so as to produce a powerful conflict in the heart.
J Baillie
In dignity and purity of style, Miss Baillie has not been surpassed by any of the poets of her sex. Her dialogue is formed on the Shakespearian model and she has succeeded perhaps better than any other dramatist in imitating the manner of the greatest poet of the world.
In 1823 Miss Baillie published a collection of Poetic Miscellanies, in 1836 three more volumes of Plays, in 1842 Fugitive Verses, and she was the author also of A View of the General Tenor of the New Testament Regarding the Nature and Dignity of Jesus Christ.