equally sublime; the more varied talents of Sophocles to those of Young, and the pleasing respectability of Rowe to that of Charles Kemble. If this proportion be allowed to be correct, it cannot for a moment be disputed, that the united talents of Rowe and Shakspeare are superior to those of Sophocles and Eschylus. Of Euripides and Otway, the chief excellence is their skill in the pathetic. This excellence is alone a sufficient compensation for the absence of many others; and if we consider its rarity only, it is deserving of higher applause than it usually obtains. In many poets and many artists we meet with occasional touches of the pathetic, but how very small is the number of those who have carried it to a high pitch of excellence, and supported it through a continued variety of scenes. In the drama, Racine only deserves to be mentioned with Otway and Euripides for his general excellence in this respect: if we turn again to the stage, we know that even Garrick fell short of his usual success when he attempted the pathetic, and was compelled to yield the palm to Barry, if not to Powell; and in our own times, besides our British Melpomene, we have no performer who can make any pretensions to this excellence except her daughter-in-law, Mrs. H. Siddons. This rarity of the talent is, I think, a decisive proof of its superior value; and if this test be disputed, I appeal to the exquisite pleasure we derive from reading the works of those who have most excelled in it. In the tragedies of Euripides and Otway, it is exhibited in its most luxurious richness, with a de gree of such incomparable softuess, that I suppose no one of the most obdurate feelings ever read them without being melted into "sympathetic tears." Which of these two admirable tragedians excelled the other, I will not take upon me to decide; though it is to be observed, that the plays of Otway are distinguished by a rich vein of pathos running through the whole of them, whereas Euripides is roused into the pathetic only by some great overwhelming affliction, and then only with intervals of tranquillity; and, again, that the sufferings of Otway's characters turn upon the grand master-passion of love, and are therefore resolved into a softness more delicate and more complete, than if they were influenced by any other passion. The passion of love was rejected by the stern severity of the Grecian tragedy, but has been amply recompensed for this rejection by the ardent adoration which has been paid it by the French and English writers. way, by the licentiousness of his age, and his intercourse with the disgraceful sensuality of the court of Charles II., was incapacitated from preserving in his writings the delicacy of love; but not all the sensuality of a court, nor all the miseries of his un. happy fate, could blunt the feeling sensibility which nature had given him, and which enabled him to paint with exquisite softness F 3 Ot. the the agonies of despair: it was love in tears, and not in smiles, that he painted with wonderful felicity. In his whole play of Ve nice Preserved, from its beginning to its conclusion, and particularly in the parting-scene of Jaffier and Belvidera, in the fifth act, he seems to have surrendered his whole soul to the entire operation of his feelings, and to have written in a continued fervor of enthusiasm exactly as they dictated to him. That Euripides should excel in pathos such a writer, is not to be expected: but who shall say he is inferior to him? We discover in Euripides, as well as Otway, occasional proofs of that fine enthusiasm of genius, which abstracts a man entirely from the world, and elevates him to the "third heaven" of poetry; such an enthusiasm, as ferments in the inspired mind, and pours forth such noble strains as the Alexander's Feast of Dryden, or the distracted Lear of Shakspeare. It is not possible to believe, that such scenes as we meet with in the Hecuba, the Troades, or the Hippolytus of Euripides, are the offspring of mere frigid labour : they are scenes which come warm from the heart of the writer to the heart of the reader, and compel us to acknowledge that they are the genuine language of true feeling, not only unfabricated, but almost unassisted, by art. For exquisite skill therefore in the pathetic, Euripides and Otway may stand alone, a par nobile fratrum," unrivalled and unapproached by any other writer; but the crown must be divided between them, and each must be content to bear a brother on the throne. That which furnished the comedians with the most fertile subject of ridicule against Euripides, was the awkward method which he invariably used in opening his plays, by sending on one of his characters to explain to the audience the whole of the circum stances connected with the plot,-not only those which preceded the opening of the drama, but sometimes those which were to follow. As he has adhered to this plan, in spite of all the bitter sarcasms of the comic writers, it was evidently the result of mature deliberation, and not of hasty temerity. It is, therefore, worth an inquiry, whether it be deserving of such severity of censure as it has met with. That it has been imitated by no suc ceeding writer, is an argument, tolerably conclusive, against it": yet it must be considered, that it has frequently been found necessary in modern prologues to remind the audience of certain circumstances explanatory of the fable; and it seems rather a refinement upon this plan to manage such an explanation by character. At any rate, this sort of prologue must be allowed to be superior to those introductory scenes of some English authors, in which two of the characters are sent forward to relate to each other what is already well known to both; a mode of introduction, which compels us instinctively to ask with Dangle, in the Critic, Critic, "Mr, Puff, as he knows all this, why does Sir Walter go on telling him?" Why, indeed? Yet Otway's Orphan is opened with a scene of this kind, quite as ridiculous as any opening of Euripides, Let me, however, in justice add, that his Venice Preserved opens with a spirit and abruptness worthy to be imitated by any dramatic writer. Euripides, says Longinus, in his admirable Treatise on the Sublime, “ της συνθέσεως ποιήτης μᾶλλον ἐστιν, ἢ τα να.” Sect. 40. "Euripides is a poet of composition, rather than of sentiment;" alluding to his skilful arrangement of his words. Now, if this Sentence be understood literally, it casts a reflection upon the genius of Euripides, in which, howeyer hardy it may appear to differ from the great critic, few admirers of the poet will coincide. But in the very instance which he quotes to confirm his opinion, he adds, «Εστι μὲν γενναῖον τὸ λῆμμα, ἀδρότερον δὲ γέγονε τῷ τὴν αρμονίαν μὴ κατεσπευεσθαι,” κ.τ.λ. "The sense indeed is noble, but becomes stronger by the harmony not being hurried;" that is, in short, by the skilfulness of the arrangement. We may safely, therefore, I think, understand the above criticism in a sense less degrading to Euripides, that his skill in arranging his words is a powerful assistance to his sentiments. In this sense its justice cannot be disputed; and in this sense, it may be applied with equal justice to Otway. No poet is less indebted than he to the pomp of language, and yet scarcely any poet can be less accused of weakness: he seems to have preferred a choice of words which have in themselves very little majesty, as being better adapted to his pathetic style; and yet they are arranged and combined with such exquisite skill, that they produce an effect of the most expressive sweetness and tenderness, without any appearance of want of strength, O could I flow like thee, and make thy stream Though deep, yet clear; though gentle, yet not dull; Strong without rage; without o'erflowing, full.”—DENHAM. Take any one of the finest speeches of Otway, and we find it almost composed of monosyllables and dissyllables. In considering the general excellencies of these two poets, I suppose no admirer of the Grecian stage will wish to place Euripides above Otway, no admirer of the English will presume to place him below him. Though not the most sublime, they are two of the most fascinating poets that ever wrote; and they are neither of them deficient, even in sublimity. Neither of them, perhaps, has yet "gathered all his fame;" and they both well deserve whatever accession to it it may be their lot to receive, Besides the ornaments of our tragic stage I have mentioned, there are several others who deserve to be noticed with applause ; but it must be remembered, too, that there are several others of the Greek tragedians, whose works are for ever lost to us;. some of whom are mentioned with respect by the ancient critics, and therefore might be expected to add something to the lustre of the Grecian stage. If, however, we place the illustrious Grecian triumvirate in comparison with our own three tragedians, the su periority, I think, however trifling it may appear, and it cer tainly must be acknowledged not to be very great,-is on the side of English tragedy. And that nation which can surpass in tragic excellence the boasted glories of Greece, may safely chal lenge a comparison with any other nation. PHILO TRAGICUS. ART. IX.-On Defects and Abuses in Public Institutions. MR. REFLECTOR, THE writer of this article has been insensibly led into his subject, "by observing a disposition in the present age to forward works of public improvement: many things have been attempted, and some things of great public consideration have been executed. The spirit of reform has visited the streets of London and Westminster; it has pervaded some of our charitable institutions, pierced into the most secret recesses of our prisons, and rectified some abuses of public trusts. We wish this spirit to proceed with an accelerated force, and to move upon a still larger scale. It has effected one reform, which may be pronounced the triumph of humanity, and which will form an epoch in the annals of England, I mean the abolition of the slave trade. The present paper confines itself to defects or abuses in public Hospitals and Schools. Certain public institutions called Hospitals, are so denominated, ab Hospitibus, quod peregrinos (of whatever kind) publicis sumptibus excipiunt. Different languages remind us of the original designation of the term: Evodoxelov, Hospital, Hospitale, Hostel, Spitall, Ospedamento, &c., all express the same idea, though the institutions sometimes take more specific names, according to the particular persons received to their protection. The general term is comprehensive, taking in Free-schools and all Public Foundation-schools, as well as Hospitals of various descriptions of sick and poor: it might extend, in its largest sense, even to universities; in short to every house, that is und Franken Hous, a Free House, Should Should any one object to extending the term to Universities, on the ground, that the Hostels, (the modern German word for Hospitals), the hospitia studiosorum, places hired for students before colleges were built, is better explained by the word Inn, from Inngeat, in and gehen, to go in, I shall not object: it may, however, be well to remind him, that these houses were in part charitable; that colleges also were in their origin in part charitable, and are so still, part of the members being supported by the funds of the society, publicis sumptibus accipiuntur. But a few defects in our Universities may, perhaps, be considered hereafter, under a distinct head, and with all due respect to those learned Institutions. At present, it shall be only in general observed, that they are somewhat too restricted in some of their academical regulations: it has also been said, that they overstrain literature; that they send men into the world who find no natural place in society; or who, go wherever they will, carry with them into the great mart of adventure and experiment, articles with which it is already overstocked. Into these evils we shall not now inquire; but are here reminded of the observation of a shrewd man: "Russia has too few cunning men, and Great Britain too many." With respect to those institutions more commonly called Public Hospitals, they may be classed under three divisions: the first is of those, founded in the middle of the 16th century, at the suggestion of Bishop Ridley, a learned and good man, who suffered martyrdom at Oxford, Oct. 16, 1555. They were originally planned for the various descriptions of poor, who were left without pro- .· tection, instruction, or support, on the dissolution of monasterics. These are called the royal foundations of Edward VI., as being . founded by that Prince. The second is of such as were intended for asylums in old age, or under infirmities, to persons who had spent the better part of their days, whether by sea or land, in the service of their country. The most distinguished of these also are royal foundations, and under the immediate protection of. government. The last, is of those that were originally endowed by private persons, or that are still fostered and supported by voluntary subscription. The force of the remark of an ancient writer is seen no where more forcibly than in the endowing and superintending of public Hospitals : Αγαθον είναι χρη, η μιμεισθαι, « You must either be a good man, or imitate a good man." People may found Hospitals and Charity-schools from the very best motives, and people may superintend them as governors, from motives equally disinterested and pure. Some of the foundations just alluded to are unquestionably useful and good; and the motives of the founders and benefactors, there is every reason to believe, were truly be nevolent. |