talents or literary knowledge (though there are in this country many of that deſcription, who profeſs to ſearch for German dramas) has thought it worth employment to make a tranſlation of the work. I can only account for ſuch an apparent neglect of Kotzebue’s “Child of Love,” by the conſideration of its original unfitneſs for an Engliſh ſtage, and the difficulty of making it otherwiſe—a difficulty which once appeared ſo formidable, that I ſeriouſly thought I muſt have declined it even after I had proceeded ſome length in the undertaking.
Independently of objections to the character of the Count, the dangerous inſignificance of the Butler, in the original, embarraſſed me much. I found, if he was retained in the Dramatis Perſonæ, ſomething more muſt be ſupplied than the author had aſſigned him: I ſuggeſted the verſes I have introduced; but not being bleſſed with the Butler’s happy art of rhyming, I am indebted for them, except the ſeventh and eleventh ſtanzas in the firſt of his poetic ſtories, to the author of the prologue.
The part of Amelia has been a very particular object of my ſolictude and alteration: the ſame ſituations which the author gave her remain, but almoſt all the dialogue of the character I have changed: the forward and unequivocal manner in which ſhe announces her affection to her lover, in the original, would have been revolting to an Engliſh audience: the paſſion of love, repreſented on the ſtage, is certain to be inſipid or diſguſting, unleſs it creates ſmiles or tears: Amelia’s love, by Kotzebue, is indelicately blunt, and yet void of mirth or ſadneſs: I have endeavoured to attach the attention and ſympathy of the audience by whimſical inſinuations, rather than coarſe
