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diction is such, that no part of it can be displaced, augmented, or retrenched.

No one has enriched the French language with such varieties of expression as Racine; no one has employed an original phraseology with so much success and discretion, nor used metaphors with so much grace and propriety; no one has managed with such a commanding skill a difficult and sometimes an almost inflexible idiom; or so well understood that easy and flowing style, which renders the reader insensible to the labour of a composiNo one has displayed a more complete knowledge of the harmonious construction of a poetical period, the resources of rhime and the art of giving variety to numbers; and when it is considered that he spoke a language by no means so flexible, so poetical or so harmonious as that of Virgil, he may surely be represented, without exaggeration, as having possessed beyond all other men, the talent for versification.

tion.

Andromache is the most perfect drama of the French theatre. It could already boast inany fine scenes, but it at length became possessed of a fine tragedy. And what an extraordinary man he must have been, who, at so early a period as twenty-seven years, could establish an epocha so glorious for France and for himself!

One of the characteristics of real talents, and particularly that for dramatic writing, is to pass with facility from one kind of composition to another, and to be still the same in power, however various in production. Britannicus offered a display of beauties that were not to be found in Andromache, in which, all admirable as it was universally acknowledged to be, some few traces were visible of the early age that produced it. But here, the stamp of maturity appeared in every part. Britannicus was throughout a nasculine and finished composition. The conception of it was bold and profound, and its execution as decided as it was faultless. The eneinies of Racine, to console themselves for the success of Andromache, had propagated the opinion, that his talent was confined to the tender passion, and that the bold and vigorous characters of Corneille were beyond the reach of his genius. But what a tremendous answer was given by Burrhus, Agripinne, Narcisse, and above all by Nero, to such an unjust opinion! But it was not at first understood as it deserved. This tragedy which united the art of Tacitus with that of Virgil, was not calculated for the common herd of spectators. What must have been the language of Burrhus, which could soften Nero's flinty bosom, and make it feel the charms of virtue! and what power is displayed in the portrait of that growing monster, whose every stroke evinces the hand of a master! In short, this play is one of the most striking examples of

the genius of Racine. Crime and virtue, severally represented by Narcisse and Burrhus, and contending to be adopted by Nero, form a sublime picture, but which is not calculated to make an instant impression on the crowd. Time alone could illustrate and enforce such a grand dramatic lesson for the sovereigns of the earth. Tender and sensible minds will feel a superior delight in pictures of love, while wise and elevated characters will find a far greater charm in the fourth act of Britannicus than in empassioned tragedies, in proportion as they prefer whatever elevates and aggrandizes the human character, to that which charms and softens it.

But if Britannicus was among the number of those works whose strict and regular beauties can only be appreciated by time and reflection; Berenice which followed it recommended itself by that kind of dramatic excellence, whose triumph is the most prompt and certain, the power of making the eye overflow with tears. Is it possible then, that any one with a capacity to judge, can assert, that Racine is always the same; and that all his subjects are treated with an unvarying similitude? Can it be said that there is a resemblance between Britannicus and Berenice? Nothing surely can be so dissimilar as the conversation of Nero with Narcisse, and the adieus of Berenice to her lover. And who will venture to decide in which of these two compositions, so different as they are from each other, Racine is the most to be admired? Can it be said that the love of Berenice, is the same which appears to possess the heart of Andromache? Here it is that the unrivalled excellence of this great dramatic writer appears, by employing those nice shades which render the passion so different from itself. Hermione and Berenice both love, and both are abandoned, but, how very unresembling is the love of Berenice to that which appears to possess the bosom of Hermione! Racine displayed in the one all the violence and horrors of that passion; and in the other the utmost tenderness and delicacy of which it is susceptible. In Hermoine it makes you tremble,-in Berenice it makes you weep.

But in proportion to the splendour and superiority of this art, are the number of those who are jealous of and traduce it. Envy hates nothing but what is amiable; furious, especially when it is impotent, it had beheld the great success of Berenice without being able to impede it, but by contemptible sarcasms and frivolous satires. That of Iphigenia completed its torments. Thus, having been so often overcome, it collected all is strength to crush the tragedy of Phædra; and for a moment Pradon appeared to triumph over Racine. The moment, it is true, was but short, but it was a cruel circumstance for the great man who was thus outraged, as it

was disgraceful for the nation who was ren-
dered an accomplice' in the outrage. The
two Phædras, however, were not long com-
petitors, and each assumed the place that be-
longed to it: but the wound that was thus
made by a misjudging public, in his sensibi-
lity, was not less painful. In nine years he
'produced many pre-eminent works, and they
were now succeeded by twelve years of inac-
tion. But it is not Racine who should be
reproached, but his implacable enemies. He is
rather to be pitied, than condemned. What
do I say? It is rather ourselves who are to
be pitied. He had done enough for his own
glory, and envy stopped the career of that
"genius which was so formed to delight and en-
chant mankind. But what was the power
which impelled Racine to resume his pen, as
Achilles formerly resumed his arms? It was
not the counsels or the exhortations of Des
preaux; nor was it a secret but unconquerable
love of fame which impelled him to renew
the activity of his genius. No, it was in
compliance with the wishes of the Foundress
of St. Cyr, that Racine proceeded to crown
his labours with the most perfect work of its
kind that the human mind has produced, and
that the French language can boast.

Racine, if any thing can be supposed to console a writer for the misfortune of seeing his finest works treated with disregard and neglect.

Racine was a very remarkable example of the misery which so frequently proceeds from a sensibility of character. He could not bear up against the injustice of his detractors, and he condemned his genius to silence. He could not resist the impressions of pity with which the general wretchedness of the people had inspired him, and when he had called forth the displeasure of his sovereign,* by the picture he had drawn of the public misery, he appeared to sink beneath the disgrace which followed it. It was indeed supposed to accelerate the term of his life. Thus his talents and his virtues troubled the repose of his life, and advanced its last hour. Such is frequently the effect of them both; yet nevertheless, who is there who does not experience the disposition to hold in high estimation both talent and virtue? He possessed all the graces of the courtier, without the least portion of that servility, which is too often attached to that character. He was a good father and an excellent husband, nor did the favours and friendship of the great interrupt his enjoyment of domestic society. He occupied himself in the education of his children as a man who knew his duties and who loved them. And in his letters, the author of Phaedra and Athaliah is seen to attend to the most minute details of paternal solicitude.

Comparisons have been frequently made be-tween Corneille and Racine. And what shall I add on this interesting and fruitful subject? Corneille appears to me to resemble the daring Titans who fell beneath the mountains which they had raised; while I must describe Racine as the genuine Prometheus who stole the fire-the sacred fire-from heaven.

It is impossible not to feel that I am speaking of Athaliah, which upwards of forty years ago, the successor of Racine declared to be the first work of the drama: a species of composition which, in particular, is so very foreign to the character of the French scene and lan"guage. It is in the choruses of Athaliah, as well as in that of Esther, that he gave the poetical idiom of the French tongue more -pomp, harmony and grace, as well as softness and variety, than it had ever possessed, and has made it a vehicle of genuine lyric poetry. His genius, indeed, appeared to be capable of any thing to which he chose to address it. His comedy of the Plaideurs obtained the ap- We recommend the example of Racine to probation of Moliere, and was worthy of it. the imitation of our writers for the theatre. His epigrams, which are replete with point Force and distinction of character, with perand delicacy, are also remarkable for their fect attention to morals and propriety are elegance and purity of style. His epistles on more certain means of success, of obtaining the society of Port-Royal, may be ranked public applause by strongly affecting the pubwith the best of the Provincial Letters. We lic mind, than merely the construction of have lost what he wrote on history, but he an intricate plot, or pompous accompanigave an ample proof in his academic discoursements, on which too many writers rely. To that he excelled in prose.

Such talents, while they called forth the attacks of envy, attracted the most favourable notice of the king. Racine received from Louis XIV; and his worthy minister Colbert, remunerations and honours. The offices of Historiographer of France and Gentleman in ordinary to his majesty, which stationed him about the person of the king, were far more flattering than the most liberal pecuniary reward. The conversation of Louis XIV, was, for a subject, no ordinary recompense; 3. and such distinctions were sufficient to console

say that character is exhausted, is a libel on nature, and especially on our country, which is peculiarly abundant in character. Let them rather acknowledge their infelicity in not observing it with the intelligent eye of dramatic poesy.

* In consequence of a Mémoire he wrote Ce n'est pas son affaire, said the haughty Louis XIV: to Madame de Maintenon; adding, il croit que parce qu'il sait faire des vers, il est en état de gouverner un royaume and never after spoke to him.

IMPROVED MORAL HABITS OF BRITISH

SEAMEN.

The following is extracted from the Naval Chronicle, for June, 1808. We hope it is founded in truth; and that the moral progress which it describes, will advance with increased rapidity. We can speak, from our own knowledge, of the good effect of the regulation for allowing seamen to allot part of their wages to the support.of their families during their absence; and the very great attention paid to the food, and discipline of sailors, in their own persons, &c. is favo rable to morals, though, at first sight, it may appear to be totally distinct from them. Penerate thyself, is a goed moral precept, judiciously understood and practised.

So vast has been the improvement in discipline since I have known the service, that I trust the days are not far distant when the cat will grow into disuse. There is now a greater degree of decency of manners introduced into the messes, dress, and conduct of a seaman than formerly. This iras been brought forward and promoted by some judicious officers, the internal regulations of whose ships reflect the highest honour upon them. It is by the encouragement of this decency, that we must advance one step farther towards improving their morality; and upon this, every reflecting mind will observe the ease with which higher and more important principles may be grafted. The follies and vices peculiar to, or rather predominant in seamen, is their inordinate love of liquor, the habit of blaspheming, and the foolish and extravagant waste of their hard-earned wages. It is necessary, Mr. Editor, to make allowance for the peculiar circumstances of these frail sons of Adam, and mitigate, though not excuse, their errors. I mention them only to express my hopes that they may be diminished, and at length, I trust, worn out. That a man who is kept, for several years, without a shilling to spend, unless he sells his clothes and provisions, should know little of the value of money when he gets it, is not wonderful. When a ship's company has been in the habit of being paid wages every six months, we do not see that extravagant waste which appears where five or six years' wages are received at a time. Small payments, therefore, or advances made to the men now and then while abroad, would tend greatly to their comfort, and diminish the waste, and consequent depravity, which attend long payments. In the same way, the tiresome confinement for years within the limits of a ship, makes the seamen ignorant of the true use of liberty, and what they have VOL. IV. [Lit. Pan, August, 1808.]

been long deprived of, they use with folly and intemperance. More frequent liberty to be on shore would therefore much lessen this enormous evil; and if the magistrates of our great sea-port towns would do their duty with respect to granting licences, and keep the bad houses in better order, much assistance would be given. I think there is somewhat in the present times well calculated for seizing occasion to improve the moral character of that truly valuable body of men I am writing about. Habits of thought and inquiry have enlarged their reasoning powers, and we have now upon the whole a superior kind of being 10 manage and instruct. Throughout all ranks, I believe, the late and present awful periods have produced much serious thought, and we have made some small approximation towards being christian heroes. I have not here room to enlarge on this important point, but conclude with an observation upon the profane swearing so justly charged against us. This vice, thank God! is rapidly on the decline among the officers: that it ever obtained practice among them at all, must have been owing to the instantaneous obedience to or-' ders, so often requisite to the safety of the ship. Haste prevents reflection, and habit confirms the fault. But this habit, so rapidly shaking off by the officer, will in tine, from his example, leave the seaman. Teach the latter that he may say that he wishes d—n to his shipmate till he wishes it in earnest, and he will soon leave off the expression. Prevent the petty officers from swearing at the men, and they may soon be taught to leave off swearing at each other. These are serious subjects, Mr. Editor, and I wish I could handle them as they deserve.

I remain, Sir, your's, &c.

SWISS MILITARY SYSTEM.

A. F. Y.

To the Editor of the Literary Panorama. SIR, Some years ago, during a long resi dence in Switzerland, I was much pleased with the admirable dexterity with which the whole male population of that country used the rifle; but much more with the admirable policy of the government, which by this mean had contrived to establish a most formidable military system, interwoven with the national amusements of the people. It was attended neither with expence to the community, nor inconvenience to the individual; the whole service was voluntary, and honour and emulation were the only compulsory principles called into action. It may be well understood, how necessary it was to the ancient Swiss republic, surrounded by powerful neighbours, to have a large military force at all times in a constant state of preparation. 2 L

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The country being small, nothing short of a levy, including the whole male population, would answer the purpose; and as to the keeping up of such an establishment, as a standing army, that was completely incompatible with the safety and welfare of the state. What then were the institutions adopted?Each town, city, and village, at certain stated times of the year, gave honorary distinctions and prizes, to such as entered the lists, as rifle shooters. They varied in value, in pro. portion to the rank attached to the places which gave them, thus, the prize given by a city was thought a more honourable mark of distinction, than that given by a village, and so on-The consequence was, that practising at a mark became quite the national game, if it may be so called, and a child, from the moment it could go alone, was accustomed to see its parents and relations striving in this manner for the palm of victory,

Thus instead of adjourning to the tavern, or the public house, to spend their evenings, as is too much the case among ourselves, all ranks rendezvous'd at the shooting ground of the place.

The shooting ground and abutments were considered as public property, and the public was at the expence of repairs and other coatingencies, subject to the jurisdiction and direction of the principal inhabitants of the place.

The utmost exertions of an individual, for introducing a similar arrangement into this country, must prove fruitless unless assisted by the public journals, and periodical works, which by their sanction would tend to force it on the attention of our rulers, but were government to patronize the measure, I feel confident it would prove of the highest utility to Great Britain. Taking the metropolis alone, fifty guineas given away in prizes would excite an amazing emulation among those who have already chosen that weapon: but whose ardour is much less than it would be if stimulated by some public incitement. This measure, adopted, would place the defensive means of the country on a most efficient footing, leaving at the same time a much larger disposeable force for foreign service.

You have it in your power, Mr. Editor, to give this sketch a publicity which the subject well deserves and the writer will feel moch gratified in having the honour of forwarding for your inspection, a plan for carrying this proposal into immediate effect. I am, &c.

London, 12th July, 1808.

HELVETICUS.

MEDICAL REPORT OF ENDEAVOUR SOCIETY. To the Editor of the Literary Panorama. Sir, My last reports having stated the remarkable decrease of general illness, I have to add that this has been even more remarkably the case, during the present month. Those diseases which have prevailed, may be arranged as Fever, Consumption, Bowel Complaints, Kheumatism, affections of the Head, ulcerated Sore Throat, Leprosy, diseases of Women and Children; and the effects of accidents, by carriages, falls, &c. I am, Sir, your's, &c. New Kent Road, 20 July, 1808.

C. PEARS.

In judging of the constitution of the AIR, many things besides the weather may be observed: the diseases of vegetables and brules, in bees, desertion of birds, quantities of insilence of grashoppers, want of mellification sects; vapors, diseases.-Such things have been observed to be significant. Dr. Arbuthnot on Air, p. 223. Aphorism xcvii.

The state of the WEATHER during the month, is highly deserving of attention; a very remarkable degree of heat has prevailed, and for some days (during the last week) it was so excessive, that every part of domestic animated nature seemed to suffer. The THERMOMETER has varied from 65 to 80, at a north window in the shade, which is less by 10 or 11 degrees than it would have been in any other situation: the BAROMETER in the same situation not more than from 314-3 to 30 -3-10. In a front room, with the windows open, a very accurate (animal heat) thermometer having a remarkably fine column of quicksilver, was uniformly elevated 101 deg. above the thermometer placed at the north side of the house. On the days when the heat was most excessive (viz. the 12, 13, and 14th inst.) it was as follows:

July 12 Tuesday........... 87 at noon.
13 Wednesday..87 at 9 A. M.
904 At noon, and
till past 3.
14 Thursday.....83 at 9 A. M.

85 at 11.
87 at 1 P. M.
88 at 5

85 at 12 night.

In the medical report published in the Supplement for March last, several verbal errors escaped the printer's notice. In the first line of the Observations, for " relief by " &c. read "for," &c.-On the general subThe PANORAMA will receive with ject I beg leave to add, that in a conversation pleasure, the plan alluded to by our Corre- respecting the danger of caustic, with a surspondent, or other plans of any kind, teud-geon who ranks very high, he observed ing to the welfare and security of our coun- "It is very little used Now, to what it was, try. by the best surgeons."

Thus it appears that the greatest degree of heat prevailed on Wednesday: the thermometer being as high (87) at nine o'clock in the morning on that day as it was at noon, on Tuesday, the day preceding. On Wednes day evening at eight o'clock, I saw it was 87 by the same thermometer at Somers Town near Panoras. Every person appeared to labour under the oppression of this heat. Animals the same. Horses were scarcely able to perform their accustomed labour. I saw one fall in the street. Domestic animals evinced the same suffering, dogs lay about, with the tongue projected from the mouth; cats were restless in the most cool and shaded situations, and birds were unusually restless, and annoyed. The doors of carriages were kept open as they passed along to procure a free current of From the accounts of several gentlemen, who had been in, or were natives of Jamaica, Barbadoes, St. Vincent's and other West India islands, (where the average heat is from 82 to 85) the heat was stated to be greater on Tuesday, which was the day I saw them, than they had ever felt it in those situations; allowance however, being consequently made for the want of sea breezes, and other

air. *

appropriate refrigerating means employedthere. But other gentlemen, † who had been at the Brazils, Buenos Ayres, and Monte Video, assured me of the same thing-On Thursday (the 14) at two o'clock, there was a Tornado, which lasted here about half an hour, during which time there were three very violent gusts of wind. On Friday the 15th inst. the thermometer was 84 at nine in the morning; 78 at eleven; and 77 at twelve at night, and in St. James's Park, at half past five o'clock, I found the degree of heat to be 73 by the same thermometer: and in Hyde Park, at half past six o'clock, it was 74. The heat of the preceding days, had produced a variety of green and yellow tints on the foliage of the trees in the park, and also in Kensington gardens, which reproduced the appearance of Autumn, and was heightened in no small degree by the great quantity of leaves which had fallen and lay strewed over the surface of the ground, and party-coloured grass. For this corroborating and appropriate remark I am indebted to the observation of a very intel

* I was informed by a philosophical friend, that in the Sun, the heat was 120!! and that a beef steak had been broiled by the Sun, on the top of a house, and eaten for a wager.

↑ One of these gentlemen, who had attended the English army in Egypt, as surgeon, assured me that during the Siroc winds, the thermometer was at 130, for three days, under the shade of a tent : and that camels dropped down dead as they were passing the door. Compare p. 992.

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ligent young lady. From the same source I add, that the thermometer of a friend at Kensing ton, was 71 at half past seven P. M. On the evening of this day there was a profusion of very beautiful coruscations in the atmosphere, accompanied by wind. During the nights, which were scarcely bearable, the thermometer was much the same as in the day. Since this time the heat has been very oppressive, though the thermometer has returned to its previous average, viz. on Monday the 18th it was not more than 82. and this day, Tuesday the 19th, (while I am writing,) 82. Should rain succeed to this heat, much illness will probably ensue. The former drought has most likely prevented this, hitherto. Heat and moisture, invariably affect the constitution, and in England their united prevalence causes those severe attacks upon the stomach and bowels, from which almost every, one has suffered, but from which they may certainly recover by the strengthening and cordial plan of treatment. This, our English ENDEMIC, called cholera morbus, will be the subject of another Report.

I shall add two or three extracts which were to have formed a part of my last report on Consumption.

The justly celebrated and excellent HALLER says, " It appears to me, that ASSES MILK seldom produces what is required," and Dr.

MEAD says,

"a milk course is liable to some

caution"; he mentions some cases, (one of which is "acute fever," as that of Phthisis has been reckoned) wherein it ought always to be deemed "a poison," and adds, that when the preference is given to asses milk, it is less nutritive," and that often from laxity, milk cannot be borne."+ Of BLEEDING, Dr. M. admits that " it may possibly be thought a rash practice to draw blood, even when the patient is wasted in his flesh, and very weak;" which may be better than none." Also, speaks of it only as " a doubtful remedy," he cautions against

and

"the mistakes" made from the inflammatory appearance of the blood. Dr. FALCK says there is no remedy more pernicious than injudicious BLEEDING. "As I value the life of my fellow-creatures, I would (says he) at all times caution them against it; being persuaded that more have lost their lives by the LANCET, than by the

+ Mead's Med. Works, p. 359. Hectic Fevers, Edinburgh edit. 1775.

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Ibid. p. 360. I mean to notice this appearance" another time. At present I shall only add, that the appearances called "inflammatory," exist during pregnancy, which, is surely a natural, and generally the most" healthy state; certainly not a diseased one. Women then escape most diseases.

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