clusions which Dr. Clark had arrived at concerning its climate. Little benefit, he candidly says, is to be expected from it in consumption; and sending patients to Nice, labouring under confirmed consumption, is, according to every authority, a step that will do more injury than good to the patient. Of Nice, our learned author observes: 'In all cases where there is a great relaxation and torpor of the constitution, the climate of Nice is extremely useful. In young females labouring under such a state of system, connected with irregularities of the uterine functions, either when these have not been established at the usual period, or when they have afterwards been suppressed, marked benefit may generally be expected. In indicating the class of cases alluded to, as likely to derive advantage from the climate of Nice, I would designate them to the practical physician as those that are usually relieved by chalybeates. In a numerous class of patients, whose constitutions have been injured by a long residence in tropical countries, by mercury, &c., and in which a dry and rather exciting climate is indicated, Nice will prove favourable. Some cases of chronic paralysis, not connected with cerebral disease, have also been found to derive considerable benefit from a residence at this place. In stating its general influence on the animal economy, I would say-that the climate of Nice is warm, exhilirating, and exciting, but upon the whole, irritating,--at least to highly sensitive constitutions. It is extremely favourable to the productions of the vegetable kingdom, some of which flourish here in a degree of luxuriance that is scarcely to be equalled in the other parts of the south of Europe.'-pp. 126, 127. With respect to ITALY, Dr. Clark observes, that his information is limited to that tract which is situated between the northern shores of the Mediterranean, and the southern base of the Appenines. The general character of the climate of this district is that of greater warmth, and much less humidity, than any of those places which we have hitherto considered. Genoa is decidedly an improper residence for persons labouring under pulmonary affections, or indeed invalids that are at all delicate and sensitive; it will be much more suitable to phlegmatic habits, and to cases of long standing gout. From Florence, likewise, notwithstanding the beauty of its scenery, the learned Doctor would exclude the delicate and consumptive patient. Indeed, for any description of invalid, Florence is by no means an eligible resort, for, according to the experienced writer, Dr. Down, the inhabitants are subject to complaints of the chest, the winter being extremely severe and wet, and the spring very changeable. With children it least of all agrees, as internal worms and dysentery commonly prevail there. Pisa offers a residence of nearly an opposite character from that of Florence, it being the principal, and perhaps the best place of sojourn for delicate invalids. One fact relating to Pisa is very important. During thirty-two years that the celebrated Vacca had been operating for calculous diseases, on patients from all parts. of Italy, not one case of the disorder in an inhabitant of Pisa came across him. Naples is stated, for many reasons, to be unfit for consumptive patients, and can be expected to benefit that class of persons alone who suffer from general weakness and disturbance of constitution. From a comparison of temperature, and other circumstances, the city of Rome is regarded by our author as possessing, with reference to its physical qualities, the best climate in Italy. Its great peculiarity is the serenity of its atmosphere, which is very seldom disturbed by high winds. But there are diseases peculiar to the place which deserve much consideration. The malaria is an endemic which prevails there at certain seasons of the year, but it is not, as generally supposed, on the increase. The Romans likewise, particularly the ladies, often contract an extreme morbid sensibility of the nervous system, which makes them incapable of even enduring what most other persons consider the delightful perfume of flowers. Dr. Clark was surprised to find so many of the chronic disorders of the inhabitants of Rome have their origin in violent mental emotions. Notwithstanding these, and other objections, Dr. Clark thinks that the early stages of consumption may be checked by a résidence at Rome, but for disorders of the tubes which communicate with the lungs, it is highly beneficial. So is it also serviceable in chronic rheumatism; but paralytic, or melancholy patients, or those disposed to apoplexy, should avoid Rome. But it would be prolonging this article beyond all reasonable bounds, to follow our author through the merits of the various other places which fall under his enlightened and judicious observation. It would be, however, confirming still more strikingly the imperfect character of the sketch that we have given of this work, if we abstained from quoting the following reflections, which, from their justness and practical application, ought to be engrossed and delivered into the hands of every invalid about to depart from England, as the commission, by which, if he is to succeed in the object of hisexpedition, he must strictly abide. Too much is generally expected from the simple change of climate. From the moment the invalid has decided upon making such a change, his hopes are often solely fixed upon it; while other circumstances, not less conducive or necessary to his recovery, are considered of secondary' importance, and are sometimes totally neglected. Nor is the fault always confined to the patient; his medical adviser frequently falls into the same error; and it is not difficult to account for this. The cases hitherto sent abroad have been, for the most part, consumptive or chronic diseases, of long standing, in which the ordinary resources of our art have usually been exerted in vain, before such a measure is recommended. Therefore, when change of climate is determined upon, the physician, as well as the patient, is disposed to look upon it as the sole remedy. The former generally advises all medicines to be laid aside, except such as are requisite to keep the bowels regular; and with this counsel he consigns the patient to his fate; encouraging him to place his confidence in change of air, of scene, &c., and in these alone. 'Such, generally speaking, has been the sum of the medical advice with which I have found most invalids sent abroad. And as I have witnessed, on a pretty extensive scale, the injury arising from this kind of over-confidence in the unaided effects of climate, and the consequent neglect of other things of no less importance, I particularly request the attention of invalids, (and I hope I may be allowed to add, of physicians,) to the following remarks. In the first place, I would strongly advise every person who goes abroad for the recovery of his health, whatever may be his disease, or to whatever climate he may go, to consider the change as merely placing him in a situation the most favourable for the removal of his disease; and to bear constantly in mind that the beneficial influence of travelling, of sailing, and of climate, requires to be aided by such a regimen and mode of living, and by such remedial measures, as would have been requisite in his case, had he remained in his own country. All the circumstances requiring attention from the invalid at home, require to be equally attended to when he is abroad. The necessity for such attention may differ somewhat in degree, but that is all. The same care as to regimen, exercise, &c., that would have been necessary at home will be equally so abroad. If in some things greater latitude may be permitted, others will demand even a more rigid attention. It is, in truth, only by a due regard to all these circumstances, that the powers of the constitution can be enabled to remove, or even materially alleviate, a disease of long standing, in the best possible climate.'-pp. 244, 245. In the second part of this work, Dr. Clark classifies those patients whose disorders are susceptible of benefit, from change of climate; and for the use of each division he offers such advice, as to choice of residence, mode of life, season of travelling, &c. as will place them under circumstances the most advantageous for receiving that relief of which they are in pursuit. The science, if it may be so called, of the influence of climate, is yet in its infancy. Dr. Clark has laid a foundation for the construction of it with the most durable materials. All he wants is general and well directed co-operation, and if his excellent example does not stimulate competent persons to assist him by their observations, we shall despair of ever seeing the good work accomplished. ART. VI.-Julio Romano, or the Force of the Passions, an Epic Drama, in Six Books. By Charles Bucke, author of the " Beauties, Harmonies, and Sublimities of Nature." 8vo. pp. 195. London: Whittaker & Co. 1830. AN Epic Drama! This is something new at all events. Epic poetry is essentially dramatic. In truth, the Iliad is a tragedy in twentyfour acts. Paradise Lost is perhaps more strictly epic than the Iliad, although it partakes abundantly of the dramatic character. If this be so, we see no good reason why the reciprocity system should not be introduced into our literature, as well as into our commerce, or why an epic drama should not have charms for the mind, similar to those which the dramatic epic is allowed to possess. Whether such a composition be likely to succeed upon the stage, is another question. Genius is omnipotent. We have no desire to place limits around it, beyond which it should not be allowed to pass. The canons of criticism become a dead letter whenever the mind has power to soar above them. Nor is it at all a necessary part of the qualities even of a good tragedy, that it should be capable of successful representation. Witness the touching performances of Euripides, which in the closet transport us into the heaven of poetry, and make our very limbs tremble with emotion. We have no doubt that on our stage they would be laughed at. Such too would be the fate of most of the plays of Sophocles. The addition of the epithet "Epic" to the title of the work before us, would, however, seem to indicate thatt he author intended it for the study, and not for the stage. He presents it as a poem on the passions, to be read in retirement, to be reflected upon, to be examined again and again, until the train of his own feelings is completely taken up, and the whole world of fancy in which he has been expatiating is disclosed to our view. We do not comprehend wherefore a work of this description should not be favourably received, and, if well executed, crowned with a new wreath of fame. There is some difference however, between reading an epic drama, and a dramatic epic. Both interest us by a variety of striking incidents tending to one grand purpose; but, in the latter, the narrative and descriptive come to the poet's aid, and when his heroes do not speak for themselves, he can speak for them, and place before us every secret movement of their souls. In reading the former however, we must assist the poet ourselves, in all that relates to the descriptive. We must paint in imagination, the scenery which he requires. We must furnish him with forests and plains, with azure skies and bright moons and sparkling stars, and fancy even the sound of mystic voices around us. We are impatient for his narrative, and his heroes must do every thing for themselves. If this be not the case, his work becomes a dramatic poem, and not an epic drama. Some portion of the work before us, and that by no means the best portion, we remember to have read before in the author's unfortunate tragedy of the "Italians." He says that he has taken some of the marble of the abandoned edifice to construct a new temple. We wish that he had chosen materials altogether fresh and unworn for his purpose. The taint of the ill success which attended his first work, will, we fear, extend itself to the present one, in consequence of the identity which exists between some of the characters in both. Especially we regret the introduction of the Improvisatore. It is altogether a conceited and puerile invention. His verses are unmeaning and unpoetical; his presence never assists, and often interrupts the progress of the action, and it is in every respect superfluous. He reminds us of a spoiled child, a wayward pet,-whose favourite declamations must be heard whenever he chooses to inflict them on the guests of his fond father. Had this excrescence been cut off, and other faults which we shall point out been removed, we should have spoken highly in favour of this composition. Even as it stands, it is entitled to considerable applause. There are many passages in it which are more capable of touching the soul, and kindling the imagination, than any thing wearing the garb of poetry which has seen the light since the appearance of Childe Harold. The diction is generally terse and well considered, the metaphors chaste and appropriate; and though a high degree of excitement reigns throughout the piece, and frequently burns with the fervour of passion, yet, with the exceptions which we shall notice, there are not many phrases, even when emotion is at its culminating point, that offend the judgment by unfitness or exaggeration. The evil genius of the composition is Schidoni, a Neapolitan nobleman, who has found a suitable auxiliary in Velutri, in the execution of his designs of vengeance against a person of his own rank, named Fontano. Fontano had refused the hand of his daughter Lavinia to Schidoni,-hence the discord between both their houses. At the period when the action commences, Romano, a Venetian nobleman, is supposed to be at the head of a conspiracy for removing the reigning dynasty of Naples, and is in league with Lorenzo, a captain of the king's guard, to whom Lavinia had been plighted. Under these circumstances, Schidoni easily succeeds in involving her father in the guilt of the conspirators, and in having him imprisoned. But his vengeance does not stop here. Romano had been condemned to death for murdering his own wife, in consequence of her preference for Schidoni. The hatred between these two personages is therefore of no ordinary bitterness, and, to satiate it, Schidoni had already stolen away Romano's daughter, and sent her to a place of concealment. A similar act of abduction he had performed with respect to Lavinia, not so much through love for the daughter, as through hatred for the father, his intention being to dishonour her, in order that he might disgrace her family. His diabolical designs go still deeper. Fontano being now in his power, he conceives the horrid thought of having diamond dust (which is said to have the power of destroying the sight) thrown in his eyes by Velutri, who is then to lead him to a precipice, where he may destroy himself without involving Schidoni in a charge of murder. He thus commits his purpose to his minion. 'Schid. Marry the devil! But why trifle thus? |