adoption of his new mode of treating that disease. This paper is followed by some observations found in the note book of Dr. Kearsley, sen., on the difference between the disease described by Dr. Mitchell, and that which appeared in Philadelphia about the same period. At page 22 commences a series of letters from Dr. Drysdale to Dr. Rush, on the yellow fever of Baltimore in 1794. We have neither time nor inclination to enter on the discussion of the merits of the theories, advanced by the professor of medicine at the school of Philadelphia, and published in the last edition of his works. We shall only observe, that the elaborate work of Dr. Drysdale is evidently a very close imitation of the style and peculiar arrangement of his celebrated medical prototype. They are, however, written with ability, and, we presume, with truth; and we consider them as valuable additions to the mass of facts, already collected on this formidable disease. At page 60 we have some cases from Dr. Rush on the efficacy of the acetite of lead in the cure of epilepsy. From his observations it appears, that in three cases, in which the exhibition of this medicine produced a radical cure, the subjects were under the age of puberty. On adults, however, he thinks its salutary action merely temporary. It was with much pleasure therefore, that we perused the account of Dr. Spence, (vol. II. p. 150) who believes himself cured of this formidable disease by the use of this medicine. It is worthy of observation, that during the progress of cure, the system discovered many of those effects, which seem to be excited only by the exhibition of mercury, particularly those local symptoms, by Vol. III. No. 11.

4D

which the action of the latter is characterised. Its effects also on the alimentary canal very nearly resembled the symptoms of the colica pictonum. It may be questioned, whether the salutary operation of the sugar of lead might not be produced by a more gradual exhibition, by which those unpleasant consequences produced in Dr. Spence might be avoided. At any rate, this paper deserves consideration for its practical importance, though we are by no means disposed, with the Doctor, to ascribe its beneficial effects to the co-operation of lunar influence.

In the first volume, p. 189, we find an important paper, by Dr. Physick, of Philadelphia, on the use of blisters in checking the progress of mortification. It is unnecessary however to notice every individual paper. It is sufficient, we we think, to mention the very respectable names of Rush, Physick, Dewees, Woodhouse, and of Coxe the editor, as authors of a great proportion of these communications, to insure a favourable reception of the Museum. On the subject of our indigenous medicinal plants, the inquiries of Dr. Coxe are, in some degree, superseded by the labours of Professor Barton, the editor of a periodical work, a considerable portion of which is exclusively devoted to this important branch of medicine. The communications, however, of Dr. Mease and of Dr. Watkins, published in the Museum, must be considered valuable additions to our domestick materia medica.

The second division of the Me. dical Museum is made up of extracts from European publications on discoveries or improvements in chemistry, or the arts; of me. dical news and of domestick jour

nals of the weather, of diseases, &c. We notice with much pleasure a considerable portion of it devoted to subjects connected with the cow-pock. On this interest ing disease the editor has not only made copious extracts of new and important facts, published in European journals, but added all the the remarks and useful information he has gradually collected relative to vaccination in our own country. In volume 2d, p. 200, he has presented us with the very interesting examination of Mr. Goldson's second pamphlet, by Dr. Pearson of London, read before the Vaccine Institution, Goldensquare. We recommend this paper to the perusal of those whose minds may have been thrown into a state of oscillation, by an acquaintance with that publication. We cannot refrain from mentioning in this place an extract from a letter from London, p. 93, volume 2, in which the writer laments the fatal effects resulting from the exhibition of quack medicines. Mr. Clayton of Yorkshire has cautioned the publick against the use of "Ching's worm lozenges." We shall extract his short account. "He stated that he had two children to whom he administered this medicine. One of them died shortly after, but his disease was attributed to worms, with which he had long been afflicted. Within a very short period the elder survivor became dangerously ill, a complete salivation ensued; medical aid was now procured, but too late to relieve the child, who died in great agony within a few hours. On dissection, a large portion of mercury was found in the intestines.

A coroner's jury was assembled, who, together with the surgeon, gave this verdict, Died by mercurial poison, administered

in the form of Ching's Lozenges." We hear with much satisfaction. that the Medical Society of London is taking effectual measures to discover these evil spirits of quackery, with an intention of banishing them from society, and holding them up as proper objects for the contempt and detestation of the world.

In the Register we find some valuable abstracts of meteorological observations made at Philadel phia. These would have been rendered more useful by the addition of an account of diseases. connected with different states of the weather, though the necessity of this is in some degree obviated by journals of the diseases at the Philadelphia Dispensary.

The third division of the Museum is simply an enumeration of new medical publications. We cannot help regretting, that the register was not, in some degree, curtailed, or the limits of the work extended to make room for reviews of new domestick or of republished European works, on subjects connected with the science of medicine. This would be interesting to all, but particularly to physicians, who, residing at a distance from our capital cities, have no opportunity of ascertaining the value of a work, before they have risked a purchase. By judicious observations on new publications, they will be enabled at once to perceive those, which are calculated to aid them in their practice,rather than merely to ornament the shelves of their libraries. We hope the able editor of the Museum will give the characters of the works, which he may enumerate in his subsequent numbers. Upon the whole, we consider the Philadelphia Medical Museum as a very respectable publication. We have

perused the multifarious productions in these two volumes with much satisfaction, and not without improvement. We have compared it with several European publications of the same kind, and find it inferiour to none in execution. It is remarkably free from typographical errours. The engravings, since added by the editor, though not promised in the prospectus, add much to the value of the work, and are favourable specimens of the engraphick powers of Lawson. We sincerely hope, that Dr. Coxe will meet with that encouragement from the publick, which his attention and abilities as an editor and the respectable character of his work have led him to expect.

ART 63.

Foscari, or the Venetian Exile; a Tragedy in five acts, as performed at the Charleston Theatre. By John B. White. Charleston, printed for the author by J. Hoff, No. 6, Broad-street. 1806.

TRAGEDY, according to Aristotle, is an imitation, in ornamental language, of an action important and complete, and possessing a certain degree of magnitude, having its forms distinct in their respective parts, and by the representation of persons acting, and not by narration affecting, through the mean of pity and terrour, the purgation of such passions.

however, much to be lamented, that the part of the poetic, which treats of tragedy, is only abstract and elementary, and that the mind has not the satisfaction of its history from so authoritative a source. Its origin is only to be traced in the obscurity of mythology through the confusion of vague theorists and countless commentators. That tragedy, however, originated in ancient divine worship is very plain. Its first appearance is evidently in the hymns, which were sung in honour of Bacchus, at the sacrifices of the goat, its bite being particularly destructive of the vine. This sacrifice grew into an annual festival. The hymns and songs were increased, and dancing was added to the musick of the chorus.

The first state of every human invention is imperfect. As it is a principle in the physical world, that all things, at their production, are subject to increase and maturity, so is it an ordinance in intellectual creation, that every thing, invented by human intelligence, is capable of improvement; and therefore every great system, at its origin, is no more than the inception of perfection, or the first act of successive improvement. This truth is more familiarly proved by observing and tracing the effects, on men generally, of those institutions which were made for

their amusement. At first, there is a very powerful charm, arising from the invention; but as soon as the novelty subsides, they eagerly look for something more to supply its place. Such is the uneasiness of delight with a populace, that they cannot be long gratified, unless the additions of pleasure be made commensurate with the extent of their power of being pleased. This was what gradually improved and perfected tragedy. The sameness of the hymns of the chorus fatigued, and, in order to relieve the audience, Thespis invented,and rehearsed in character, some tale in the intervals of the chorus. Still satiety and repletion were wearisome, and it was left for Eschylus to perform so much by improvement, that he is justly denominated the father of tragedy. The single personage, which Thespis introduced in the intervals of the chorus, wanted interest; Eschylus therefore introduced a second, and thus formed dialogue and episode. These raised action and interest, and a continuity of events followed,which awakened, and closely possessed the attention of the audience, till the chorus was almost forgotten, or, at most, retained only as an auxiliary in the drama.

The constituent parts of ancient tragedy were, the prologue, the episode, the exode, and the chorus.

The prologue answered to the exordium in oratory, giving an idea, in some measure, of the whole. It afforded sufficient in sight into the construction of the drama, so as to excite interest in the audience, without admitting it so far, as to take away the effect of what was to succeed, and operate as surprise. This answers to the first act of modern tragedy.

The episode is all that part of the tragedy, which was between

the hymns of the chorus, and contained the whole of the plot. This answers to our second, third, and fourth acts, containing all the important parts of the fable. The Stagirite is so strict and rigid in his rules of episode, that he forbids the introduction of any matter, to make a part of it, which could possibly be taken away,without being missed. Much therefore depends on the episode, so that the plot be conducted to produce the most unexpected peripeteia, and the most sensible pathos.* This division determines the character of the dramatick poet.

The exode was that part which was recited, after the chorus ceased singing, and is our fifth act, containing the catastrophe and disentangling of the plot.

It has been a question in dramatick criticism, whether modern tragedy has been injured, or improved, by the omission of the chorus. Whether a set of constant spectators to the general action, and sometimes coadjutors in it, and always attendants on the high characters, would not give and receive more interest in what was delivered and passed before them, than can be effected by modern arrangement. The heroes of latter tragedy have to communicate their schemes, secrecies, and sufferings to the audience through an insipid confident or a trusty servant, or the strong convulsions of passion subside in the tedium of a long soliloquy. What can be more absurd, than a high-wrought female character communing with a drab, and deli

Пgrua is an unexpected reverse of fortune in the persons acting, necessarily or probably arising from the inwhich is either fatal or painful.-Arist: cidents; aos is that part of the action

Poet. Ch. XII.

cate misery seeking sympathy from a chambermaid, made up of all the tarnished gewgaws of the wardrobe. There is something also most repugnant to common sense and experience in the doctrine of monologue or soliloquy. In hearing soliloquy, the audience must suppose one of two things, viz. the actor talking to himself, or thinking aloud. In real life, a man, who is in the habit of the former, is invariably the subject of laughter and ridicule; thinking aloud is mere metaphor. But in the presence of the chorus, the hero was amongst his own friends, and, of course, had a plain dramatick right of addressing them, and communicating to them his purposes and feelings, which reached the ear of the audience, without absurdity or disgust.

Another defect of modern tragedy is in general action and display. The ancients, though they had no variety of local scene, had a magnificence in the drama, which is almost altogether wanting in our own. The cothurnus is now reduced to the common shoe. So little attention was once paid to the splendour, and even propriety of costume, that such a character as Cato was flourishing and flouncing on the Drury-Lane stage in a big sleeve coat and full bottomed periwig, and thus were metamorphosed the heroes of ancient times,

"A motley mixture! in long wigs, in bags,

In silks, in crapes, in garters, and in rags."

Shakespeare, who needed, less than any writer, splendour and display of action, has more than any of the modern school. Tragedy, from solemnity of sentiment and pomp of language, requires repre

sentation, filled with magnificence and grandeur. Every tone is solemn, so ought to be every step, and the cause and effect of sentiment and action to be correspondent and proportionate.

Aristotle lays down effect as the true test and proof of excellence in drama. This canon of antiquity is altogether favourable to the pretensions of modern tragedy. If Melpomeme could sit in judgment on her Eschylus and Shakespeare, her Sophocles and Otway, and her Euripides and Rowe, would not the spirits of her younger offspring receive the lustre of her smile? But, however high and bright these names may stand, together with the convention of Congreve, Southern,and Young, for the latter times of tragedy we must hide our faces. Holme and Douglas, and the Carmelite and Cumberland, live long in their dotage, and we think it not rashness to predict, that their tragedies will be, by and by, amongst the rubbish before the flood; and if

Cumberland be not remembered by his Carmelite, Gustavus and Brooks, and the Grecian Daughter and Murphy, must be also forgotten.

We have been tracing the scber steps of the Muse through the dusky paths of antiquity, and been charmed with her demure and plaintive mein, as she stalked with slow and solemn pace through more modern times. Her air was then mighty and majestick, her tones thrilling, and her utterance deep, her visage contemplative and sorrowful, her eyes full, and dim with grief, and as they were lifted upwards, their lashes hanging with tear drops. But,in our own country, how is she her own caricature ! Her change, with us, is like that of the actress, who, a few moments