[393] Περι Ποιητικης, c. V.
[394] As to the prior Antiquity of Comedy or Tragedy, History must be
our only Guide; for I think it cannot be suppos'd that either of them
existed, before Mankind knew what State and Magnificence was. Both had
their Rise from the Songs at the Feasts of _Bacchus_. _Susarion_ is said
to be the Inventor of the first, and _Thespis_ of the latter. So _Marm.
Arundel. &c._ And yet _Horace_ says, _Successit vetus his Comœdia_,
having spoken before of Tragedy and Satire; which is reconcil'd by
supposing _Epicharmus_ (who liv'd later than _Thespis_) the _Inventor_
of Comedy in _Horace_'s Judgment, because he was the first _Writer_ of
it. See _Bentley's Answer to Boyle_, p. 238, 199, 200.
[395] Lib. I. Sat. IV. ℣ 1.
[396] ℣ 281.
[397] Inst. L. II. c. 27. p. 139, 140.
[398] Poetic. L.I. c. V. p. 27.
[399] P. 123.
[400] P. 45, & 367.
[401] P. 45.
[402] P. 125.
[403] P. 110.
[404] No more than he himself was aware. He observes, if, as St.
_Jerome_ says, it is a Copy of common Life, for the Improvement of the
Audience, it need not be mix'd with Mirth, were it not for the Sake of
pleasing them.
[405] _Vossius_ takes Care to tell us, that this Definition is suited
to the Old Comedy; and gives us others from _Camerarius_ and _Jul.
Scaliger_, that comprehend the New.
[406] De Poetica, cap. V.
[407] In Poet. Arist. p. 58, 59.
[408] L. I. Sat. X. ℣ 14.
[409] Cap. V.
[410] Andria, Act. I. Scen. penult.
[411] De Art. ℣ 93.
[412] Act. V. Scen. IV. 12.
[413] Ad August. ℣ 185.
[414] ℣ 168.
[415] Inst. Poet. L. II. c. XXIV.
[416] Ibid. c. XXV.
[417] _Lipsius_ was of _Varro_'s Mind, who says, in a Letter to _A.
Schottus_, _Terentium amo, admiror; sed Plautum magis_. This blind Love
for _Plautus_, led him into a strange Affectation of his Style, for
which he was expos'd by _Henry Stephens_, in his Book entitled, _De
Lipsii Latinitate Polæstra_.
[418] Ad Aug. ℣ 59.
[419] A Mistake. _Vossius_, L. II. c. XXIII. cites _Antonius Lullius
Balearis_ melioris notæ Rhet.
[420] Lib. I. Sat. I. 69.
LECTURE XXVI, _&c._
_Of_ TRAGEDY.
In discoursing upon the Drama in general, I have already mention'd the
Origin of Tragedy. The Word is deriv'd from τραγος, _a Goat_,
and ωδη, _a Song_: because a Goat was the Reward propos'd to
the Competitors in this Art; as _Horace_ has plainly intimated:
_Carmine qui tragico vilem certavit ob hircum._
The first Competitors in Tragic Strain,
When a poor Goat was all the Victor's Gain.
For they deserve no Regard, who would derive τραγωδια, as if it
were τρυγωδια, from τρυξ, _the Lees of wine_; because
the Actors, before _Æschylus_ invented the Use of Masks, discolour'd
their Faces with Wine Lees. This Etymology is harsh, and unnatural[422];
the other is easy, and agreeable to the Rules of Analogy, without
changing so much as one Letter, as the other does.[423]Their Opinion,
who think it was call'd τραγωδια, as if it were
τραχεια ωδη, a _rough Song_; has still less Countenance from the
Analogy of that Language, or the Nature of the Poem. But it is not worth
While to dwell upon these Trifles.
_Aristotle_, whose Discourse on Poetry is employ'd chiefly on this
Subject, defines Tragedy in this Manner,[424] Εστιν ουν τραγωδια
μιμησις πραξεως σπουδαιας, και τελειας, μεγεθος εχουσης, ἡδυσμενω
λογω, χωρις εκαστου των ειδων εν τοις μοριοις δρωντων, και ου δι'
επαγγελιας, αλλα δι' ελεους, και φοβου, περαινουσα την των τοιουτων
παθηματων καθαρσιν. _Tragedy is the Imitation of a serious, entire,
and important Action, in an agreeable Style, the different Sorts of
which Style must be regularly varied in the several Parts; and not
by Narration, but by the Means of Terror and Pity purging the like
Passions in us._ All I would observe of this Definition, at present,
is, that there are two Parts of it which want some Explication. The
first is, χωρις εκαστου των ειδων εν τοις μοριοις δρωντων;
that is, says[425]_Vossius_, "That the several Sorts of Style should not
be mix'd together, but brought in separately in their several Parts.
For _Aristotle_ adds, immediately after, _Some Parts are perform'd in
Metre only, some with Music_[426]." This Clause, therefore, of the
Definition, can belong only to the ancient Tragedy, and not to our
modern, which is entirely without a Chorus. The other Difficulty is, in
ου δι επαγγλελιας. _Vossius_ and _Dacier_ are both of Opinion,
that this Part of the Definition was added for no other Reason, but to
distinguish Tragedy from Epic Poetry, which is form'd, not upon Action,
but Narration. But still there is a Doubt left, which neither of them
attempt to clear up: Must we, therefore, exclude all Sort of Narration
from Tragedy? Has not _Horace_, and all the Poets and Critics after him,
made a proper Distinction between Things represented and related in the
Drama?
_Aut agitur res in scenis, aut acta refertur._
Some Things are acted, others only told.
_Roscom._
The Answer to which Question, I think, is this; That there is
undoubtedly a Dramatic Narration, but always related by some Persons in
the Play, not by the Poet himself, as in Epic Poetry; and this latter
Sort of Narration is what _Aristotle_ meant in the Definition before us.
There is no Occasion to explain the several Parts of it any further,
since _Vossius_ has express'd the Substance more clearly, and fully, in
the following Definition.[428]_Tragedy is a Dramatic Poem, imitating
some great, but unfortunate Event, in a grave and majestic Style_: To
which, says he, if you please, you may add, _to raise the Passions,
and purge the Mind from them_. All this is intelligible, and to the
Point: But I wonder this learned Writer should think the last Clause
rather not impertinent, than essential, by that negligent Introduction,
_that you may add it if you please_; which, as _Dacier_ observes with
great Judgment, is much the best Part of _Aristotle_'s Definition, and
deserves, of all others, to be most accurately explain'd. He should
also (as _Aristotle_ has done) have particularly mention'd the two
prevailing Passions of _Pity_ and _Terror_, which are the proper Objects
of Tragedy, and chiefly affected by it: And further, in Imitation
of the same great Author, the Beauties of the Style should not have
been intirely forgot. I shall therefore, from these two Definitions,
endeavour to form a third, much clearer than _Aristotle_'s, and more
compleat than _Vossius_'s. _Tragedy is a Dramatic Poem, imitating some
great, but unfortunate Event, in a grave, majestic, and entertaining
Style, to raise the Passions, especially those of Pity and Terror, and
to purge the Mind of them._
This Definition, expresly, or by Implication, contains these several
Parts; _the Argument, or the Subject Matter, the Sentiments, the
Language and Versification, the Characters and Manners, and, lastly, the
Moral, or the propos'd Effect_. All which agree in this, that they ought
to be great and sublime; for with Regard to all these, Tragedy is the
noblest Kind of Poetry, except one.
The Subject is always some serious and important Event, as the Expulsion
of a Tyrant, the Death of a Hero, and the like; which Event turns, and
depends intirely upon some violent Passion, either good or bad; as
Ambition, Revenge, Friendship, and especially Love, (for Love, as I
have before observ'd, is the chief Subject of the modern Drama, whether
Tragedy, or Comedy;) or else upon the divine Justice, which gives either
to Virtue, or Vice, or to both at once, their proper Retributions. It
is likewise necessary, that the Manners, the Thoughts, the Language,
(for these are so nearly allied, that they are much better consider'd
jointly, than separately) should be grave, sublime, and magnificent.
Hence _Horace_, in his Art of Poetry, after laying down Rules for the
Style of Comedy,
_Versibus exponi tragicis res comica non vult_,
goes on thus,
_Indignatur item privatis, & prope socco
Dignis carminibus narrari cœna Thyestæ._
A Comic Subject loves an humble Verse:
_Thyestes_ scorns a low and Comic Style.
_Roscom._
And again:
_Effutire leves indigna Tragœdia versus,
Ut festis matrona moveri jussa diebus,
Intererit Satyris paulum pudibunda protervis._
For Tragedy shou'd blush as much, to stoop
To the low mimick Follies of a Farce,
As a grave Matron wou'd, to dance with Girls.
And _Ovid_:
_Omne genus scripti gravitate Tragœdia vincit._
In Majesty the Tragic Muse excels.
I am entirely of[432]_Vossius_'s Opinion, who says, "that Tragedy is
nearly allied to Epic Poetry, nay, often superior to it, in the Choice
of Words, and Majesty of Expression." Which makes _Horace_ say of it,
_An Tragica desævit & ampullatur in arte?_
Or swell with noble Rage the Tragic Style.
_Ch. Carthy._
Not that all the Persons in Tragedy are suppos'd to speak with equal
Dignity, which is as inconsistent with the Nature of Things, as of Men;
nor should the Language of a Messenger, or a Nurse, be as sublime as
that of a Monarch, or a Deity: Tho' great Care ought to be taken, that
nothing mean or trifling appear in these lower Characters, much less
like Joke or Repartee, (a Fault which modern Writers, especially those
of our own Country, are shamefully guilty of) lest Tragedy should sink
below itself. A judicious Tragic Poet will be less concern'd at the
Hiss, than the Laugh of an Audience.
Nor should the highest Characters talk _always_ with equal Majesty,
for that is as great an Absurdity; much less should they fall into
Expressions of Low Life, improper for Tragedy, even when they are
talking about Things of no Moment: For even in them there is a Sort of
Dignity, inseparable from Kings and Heroes. Mr. _Dryden_, therefore, has
well observ'd, that in _Seneca_'s _Hippolytus_ the Poet very judiciously
makes _Theseus_ order his Servants to open the Door (a very familiar
Circumstance) in pompous Words:
_Reserate clusos Regii postes Laris._
Unbar the Portals of the Royal Dome.
In expressing Grief, when void of Anger, (for Anger is insolent in all
Circumstances, and in great Men always swelling) the Style of Tragedy
abates something of its Majesty, and descends almost into the Ease and
Freedom, not of Comedy, (as[435]_Vossius_, less accurately, expresses
it) but of familiar Conversation. "Especially if Heroes are introduc'd
fallen from the Height of Fortune; whose Spirits are less rais'd, and
their Language, of Course, is less tragical." As Anger, therefore,
raises the Style of Comedy; Sorrow sinks that of Tragedy: Both which
_Horace_ observes, in these Words:
_Interdum tamen & vocem Comœdia tollit,
Iratusque Chremes tumido delitigat ore:
Et Tragicus plerumque dolet sermone pedestri;
Telephus, & Peleus, cum pauper, & exul uterque,
Projicit ampullas, & sesquipedalia verba,
Si curat cor spectantis tetigisse querela._
Yet Comedy sometimes may raise her Voice,
And _Chremes_ be allow'd to foam and rail:
Tragedians too lay by their State, to grieve:
_Peleus_ and _Telephus_, evil'd and poor,
Forget their swelling and gigantick Words,
If they wou'd have Spectators share their Grief.
_Roscom._
The Reason of which is too plain, to want Explication. By _Sermo
pedestris_, the Poet means a more familiar Style, but without Meanness;
not quite degenerating into Prose, much less into what is vulgar, rude,
or scurrilous: Tho' plain, it should be elegant; tho' humble, and
complaining, yet graceful, and truly poetical. The Thoughts may, and
often ought to be great, even when the Language is far otherwise. For
there is a Sort of majestic and heroical Humility; and tho' Kings and
Queens don't express their Grief in pompous and sonorous Words, yet
there is some Difference betwixt theirs, and vulgar Sorrows. There is
the same Distinction of Style, as in the Habit of Mourners. The Monarch
may exchange his Purple for Sable, yet, in his Behaviour, in his Looks,
there is such a Reserve of Majesty, as will easily distinguish him from
a private Person in the same Attire.
As we observ'd elsewhere, there were two Sorts of Satire, the one of a
lower Kind, and less confin'd; the other of a graver and severer Turn,
and more sublime: So the former is suited to Comedy, the latter to
Tragedy: For it is the Business of the one to ridicule the Follies of
Mankind, and of the other to lash Vices, and Crimes of a deeper Dye.
Hence _Juvenal_, a Writer of the sublimer Kind of Satire, seems to
propose the Tragic Style for his Imitation.
_Grande Sophocleo carmen bacchamur hiatu._
The Satyr in a Rage,
Struts in the Buskins of the Tragic Stage.
_Dryden._
Nor is it less the Province of Tragedy to improve Virtue, than correct,
and expose Vice; Virtue, I say, and that heroic too: For Tragedy is a
Sort of heroic Drama; no Kind of Poetry is more sacred; none, to which
the noblest and best Sentiments are so suitable; none, in which more
exalted Precepts of Virtue are, or, at least, may be deliver'd.
Tragedy, therefore, is, in all Respects, adapted to the Sublime: But if
it should be ask'd, how I can reconcile this to Nature, that Men, of
what Quality and Rank soever, should be suppos'd, in their private and
common Conversation, to make such solemn Speeches, of so much Art and
Elegance; when, in Fact, they rarely, if ever, talk in such Language: I
must ingenuously own, that this Objection lies stronger against those
Poems in which Actions are represented, than in which they are barely
describ'd; and therefore, in this Respect, Tragedy must give Place
to Epic. It may be observ'd, however, that even in Comedy, (which is
suppos'd to be less concern'd in this Objection) it is impossible to
imagine, that Persons should really support a Conversation, as they
are represented to do, upon the Stage, and that it is full as natural
to ascribe this Sublimity of Style to Kings and Heroes, as those smart
Repartees, and fine Turns of Wit, to Persons of inferior Rank. But,
upon the whole, the true Apology to be made for both, is, that these are
_probable_ Circumstances, if not _true ones_: It is enough, if they bear
a near Resemblance to Truth, or if, as _Horace_ has well express'd it,
_Ficta voluptatis causa sint proxima veris._
What was for Pleasure feign'd, be near the Truth.
For it is impossible that any Degree of Fiction should be the very
Truth. Poets, as well as Painters, are allow'd to go beyond the Life:
Nay, this is the very Point that shews their Skill most. When these
imaginary Touches affect as strongly as real Truths; if we can be
agreeably deceiv'd, even in spite of Conviction, how great is the Art,
and how just the Triumph of the Deceiver? And this is what _Horace_
means, in the following Lines:
_Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur
Ire Poeta, meum qui pectus inaniter augit,
Irritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet,
Ut magus, & modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis._
I freely own, that Poet seems to shew
The greatest Force of Genius, and of Art,
Whose pow'rful Images can fill the Soul
With Terrors not her own; can Pity raise,
Or Joy, or soft Complacency diffuse:
Who, by the wond'rous Magic of his Pen,
With strong Deception on my Fancy plays,
Now fixes me at _Athens_, now at _Thebes_.
_Ch. Carthy._
[Sidenote: _Twenty-seventh Lecture._]
But I must just take Notice, that what we have advanc'd concerning
the Sublimity of this Drama, is applicable to all Tragedies, but not
equally to all. For as (what I have before observ'd) there are two
Sorts of Comedies; the one taken from Characters of a higher Rank, the
other perfectly low: So there are two Sorts of Tragedies, the one quite
sublime, the other of a more humble Nature; the first representing Kings
and Heroes, and the latter, Men of private Life, but of considerable
Character and Station in it. This, indeed, is intirely modern; the
Punishments or Misfortunes of Tyrants, and Princes, being the only
Subjects of the ancient Tragedy. We said, that tho' it is form'd upon
the Calamities of private Men, yet of such whose Authority and Station
in Life make them considerable; because, tho' the Afflictions of
common People afford Matter for Compassion, yet not for Tragedy, their
Fortunes, and their Manners, being far below the Spirit of this Sort of
Poetry, and the Dignity of its Style and Versification. Some of the best
Performances of our own Writers, are of this Sort, affecting us not so
much with Terror, as Compassion; in exciting which, the Moderns seem far
superior to the Ancients.
Tragedies, likewise, admit of another Distinction, with Regard to their
Event, either fortunate, or unfortunate. It is sufficient to be true
Tragedy, that Incidents of Distress and Sorrow are carried on thro'
the whole, tho' the principal Persons come off fortunately at last: I
say, the _principal Persons_; because even in this Species, that ends
happily, it is necessary that some Characters should be unhappy in the
Conclusion, especially the worst, or rather they only. For I can by no
means approve of those Tragedies of ours, in which Persons of equal
Innocence and Virtue, of the same Rank and Eminence, are punish'd and
rewarded promiscuously. It is so, I own, in human Life; but a single
Dramatic Piece is not design'd to give us an intire View of it: Let it
therefore be truly one, and entirely consistent. It may, indeed, very
justly leave the best, and most distinguish'd Characters, in Distress at
last; which (as shall be observ'd hereafter) is the most affecting Sort
of Tragedy. But if _some_ innocent and virtuous Persons are fortunate,
let them be _all so_, and the bad only left miserable; otherwise the
Drama will be inconsistent: And these opposite Agitations of Mind will
weaken and destroy each other. Let the Audience go home either in a
pleasant or melancholy Humour; if you attempt both, you succeed in
neither.
But to return to the twofold Division, we observ'd, of this species of
the Drama. "In Tragedies (says[440]_Vossius_) that are truly tragical,
the first Scenes are usually more sedate, and the last dreadful. Thus,
what a terrible Conclusion has the _Phœnissæ_ of _Euripides_, where
_Oedipus_, with his Eyes put out, is by _Creon_ banish'd from _Thebes_,
of which he had once been King? So, again, in his _Hecuba_, we see
_Polymestor_ in the same Distress; _Hecuba_ bewailing the Murder of her
Son, and the blind _Polymestor_ relating the Calamities which the Oracle
had denounc'd against _Hecuba_, _Agamemnon,_ and _Cassandra_.[441]But
if _Orestes_ and _Ægisthus,_ who were determin'd Enemies, had been
reconcil'd, and parted without Blood-shed, the Tragedy had been less
perfect. For, as we observ'd, Tragedy, in this respect, differs
from Comedy, because this always ends happily, the other generally
unhappily. _And such should be the Conclusion of a Tragedy, according
to the Rules of Art; but sometimes an unexpected Happiness arises
from the greatest Distress: when this is the Case, the Poet departs
from the Rules of Art, in Compliance with the Taste of his Audience,
who had rather go home chearful, than melancholy._ In the _Electra_,
both of _Sophocles_ and _Euripides_, the Plot takes this prosperous
Turn, tho' _Sophocles_ has shewn much greater Skill in the Conduct of
it. _Sophocles_'s _Philoctetes_ in _Lemnus_, concludes in the same
Way; as does _Euripides_'s _Iphigenia_ in _Aulis_; his _Iphigenia_ in
_Tauri_; and _Alcestis_; where, by _Hercules_'s Assistance, _Admetus_
has his Wife restor'd. And so his _Orestes_; for when _Pylades_ and
_Orestes_, incens'd at _Menelaus_, because he would not assist them
against _Tyndarus_, had determin'd to put _Helena_, and his Daughter
_Hermione_, to Death; _Helena,_ by the Favour of the Gods, is taken up
into Heaven, and _Hermione_ (_Menelaus_ coming first to her Relief,
and _Apollo_ interposing, to end the Controversy) is, by the Direction
of that God, married to _Orestes_, who now expiated from his Mother's
Blood, is made King of _Argos_. And his _Helena_ again, concludes
happily; where she, having artfully escap'd from _Theoclymenus_,
returns to her Husband _Menelaus_, and sails, with a prosperous Gale,
into _Greece_. So, likewise, his Tragedies of _Hippolytus_, _Rhosus_,
and _Ion_. Even _Ezekiel_, the _Jewish_ Tragic Poet, (as _Clemens
Alexandrinus_ calls him, _Strom_. Book I.) was the Author of a Drama,
which he entituled, Εζαγωγη, or the _bringing out_; from whence
_Eusebius_ has transcrib'd no small Part into his _Evang. Præp._ Book
IX. Chap. IV. And what Event could be more joyful, than the bringing
that People out of _Ægypt_? _Nor does Tragedy lose its Name_, (as
_Vossius_ further observes) _tho' the Conclusion is fortunate; because
a melancholy Catastrophe is no Part of its Essence. Otherwise great
Part of the Tragedies of_ Euripides, _that are come to our Hands, would
cease to be Tragedies. Wherefore, in Respect to the Essence of this
Poem, it is sufficient, if it has upon the whole the real Appearance
of Distress._ So that the distinguishing Property of it may appear, in
representing the doubtful and disastrous Fortunes of great Men. Tho' I
cannot deny, (says he) but that such Tragedies borrow something from the
Nature of Comedy. For the Nature of Tragedy is to be mournful, which is
undeniable, since Terror and Commiseration are the chief Ends propos'd
by it. When it is otherwise, it is only, as we said, in Compliance with
the Taste of the People. Hence _Aristotle_ says, that Poets fall into
this Way of Writing, δια το των θεανρον ασθενειαν, that is,
to humour the wrong or weak Judgment of an Audience. But as the Populace
are mutable, and inconstant, sometimes approving one Thing, sometimes
another; the best Way is to keep close to the Nature of Tragedy, and not
without great Necessity to depart from it."
Thus that great Man, whose Sentiments I should entirely approve of, if
they did not seem, in one Particular, a little inconsistent. He says, it
is not essential to Tragedies to end unhappily, which is certainly true;
and yet is of Opinion, that such as do not end so, borrow something from
the Turn of Comedy, because the very Nature of Tragedy is mournful.
If by Nature he means the most distinguishing Property, his Opinion
is, indeed, indisputable, but his Consequence is not just; because (as
appears already, from both our Dissertations upon this Subject) Sorrow
may be the prevailing Passion in a Drama, which, nevertheless, may
conclude successfully. For every Scene of it, from the first to the
last, may supply us with proper Objects of Terror and Compassion. If by
Nature _Vossius_ understands the whole Essence of Tragedy, he is not
only mistaken, but plainly contradicts[442] himself; as appears from the
Passages already quoted. The best Way, therefore, of determining this
Point, seems to be, that _both_ these Sorts are _true Tragedies_, but
the one _more tragical_ than the other.
However, that which is least tragical, and ends happily, requires
more Art to write, and is read with more Advantage. With Regard to
the first Particular, I shall beg Leave to cite the Authority of Mr.
_Dryden_. [443]"Neither is it (says he) so trivial an Undertaking, to
make a Tragedy end happily; for it is more difficult to save, than it
is to kill. The Dagger, and the Cup of Poison, are always in Readiness;
but to bring the Action to the last Extremity, and then, by probable
Means, to recover all, will require the Art and Judgment of a Writer,
and cost him many a Pang in the Performance." As to the Advantage, the
Rewards and Punishments, by this Means, are more equitably adjusted:
Which, indeed, may be tolerably affected in those Tragedies, which
end unfortunately; For there, the chief Characters, being generally
wicked, meet with that Punishment they deserve, and so strike a Terror
into the Audience, which is accompanied, likewise, with some Mixture
of Pity; for it is not necessary they should be notoriously wicked, to
merit Punishment. Besides, sometimes they _repent_ before they go off
the Stage; as we have seen in two or three _English_ Tragedies lately
publish'd, which have met with that Applause they justly deserv'd: And
even the Punishment of Robbers and Assassins, how justly soever they may
deserve it, raises some Degrees of Compassion in us. I may add, farther,
that in this Kind of Tragedy the _Under-characters_, which are innocent
and virtuous, may at the Conclusion be rewarded for those Virtues,
whatsoever Misfortunes they have struggled with before. Upon the whole,
from comparing what has been said, it is plain, that even in those
Tragedies which end unhappily, there is a _Possibility_ that poetical
Justice (as it is call'd) may be preserv'd: Tho' the other Sort is
_better_ adapted to this Purpose, where the _chief Characters_ receive
their proper Reward, the Virtuous made happy, and the Wicked miserable.
Terror is chiefly excited in us by a Representation of bad Men punish'd
with Misfortunes; Pity with a Mixture of Terror, by a View of good Men
under the same Circumstances; both Passions indifferently, by those who
are not remarkable either for their Virtues, or their Vices. I have put
the Case of good Men punish'd with Misfortunes, for it is consistent
with the exactest Justice of the Drama, to make the most innocent meet
the most disastrous Fate; a Sort of Tragedy the most tragical, of which
our own Stage supplies us with many Instances. This Practice, I say,
must be consistent with poetical Justice, which is strictly so with the
divine. It was, indeed, less equitable upon the ancient Stage, when the
Heathens knew very little of the Rewards and Punishments of a future
State: But with us _Christians_ the Case is entirely different.
But tho' it is no Injustice to represent good Men labouring under
Distress, even at the last; yet the Wicked should never come off in
real Triumph, and Satisfaction: They should always, at least, be so
far Sufferers, that if Death is not inflicted on them, nor any other
external Punishment; yet they should feel the Anguish of their own
Minds, and not enjoy any secret Satisfaction in their Vices. On the
other Hand, tho' good Men, to raise our Compassion, are sometimes
put to Death; yet we should, even then, see them supported by a just
Consciousness of their own Innocence, and the Hopes of a better Life:
For tho' the Things of this World are dispos'd of in so dark and
uncertain a Manner as to make us often lament the Condition of the
best of Men; yet Poets, like Preachers, should not fail to remind the
Audience, that there certainly will be eternal Punishments and Rewards
hereafter.
"_The best Tragedies_ (says[444]_Vossius_) _are those where the
Characters are neither perfectly virtuous, nor extreamly wicked_."
If this Rule is to be confin'd to some of the Characters only, it is
just; but will not hold, if extended to all of them. "For the Design
of Tragedy is to raise Terror and Pity." No Doubt of it. "But when the
Wicked are unfortunate, we are not much dispos'd either to be terrify'd,
or touch'd with Compassion at it. For _who_ (as _Tully_ says) _is
ever mov'd at the Punishment of a Traitor, or a Parricide_? It should
rather raise a Sort of Satisfaction in us, to think that Justice has
overtaken those that have so well deserv'd it?" But, with Submission to
the great Names of _Cicero_ and _Vossius_, all good and generous Minds
are affected with _Compassion_ at the Execution of Rebels and Traitors;
and nothing can be more _terrible_ than the Punishment inflicted upon
some of them. "Nor should they be Characters of unblemish'd Virtue; for
the Calamities of a good Man raise a secret Indignation; and it looks
like a Sort of Inhumanity to suppose that the best of Men may be most
miserable; to which I may add, that such a Representation may have some
Influence in deterring weak and unthinking Minds from Virtue." There
might be some Reason to believe so, if there was no other Life but the
present; otherwise 'tis a weak Suspicion. Besides, is there no other
Occasion to introduce good Characters upon the Stage, but to _make them
miserable_? Has not he himself already[445] determin'd, that there are
some Tragedies which end unhappily, and others happily? What he has
farther advanc'd upon this Subject, is generally right. "Therefore the
_properest_ Characters for the Stage, are those of a middle Nature,
between the two Extreams of Virtue and Vice; whose Errors, rather than
Crimes, make them unfortunate; as _Oedipus_ in _Sophocles_: Or who are
reduc'd, by Necessity, to commit some wicked Action, it being the last
Expedient; as _Medea_ first kills her Brother _Absyrtus_, and afterwards
her own Children. Not that these Characters are always requisite;
for _Ægisthus_ and _Clytæmnestra_ are unpardonably wicked; _Electra_
is good; _Orestes_ rather virtuous, than not; _Agamemnon_ cannot be
said to be bad, for tho' he sacrifices _Iphigenia_ in _Aulis_, it is
only in Obedience to the Oracle, and against his own Inclination. Nor
can _Hercules_ be said to appear in an indifferent Light, but rather
in a good one. Wherefore we are not to conclude that those Tragedies
must be entirely condemn'd, which are not in all Respects agreeable
to _Aristotle_'s Rules; but rather, that those are the best, which
are conformable to them." The _most tragical_ (with Submission to the
learned Author) rather than the _best_, if the Rules he speaks of are
really _Aristotle_'s. For I am not satisfied, I confess, that they are
his, nor does _Vossius_ direct us where to find them[446]: Otherwise I
am entirely of his Opinion in the rest I have quoted from him; except
that I do not perfectly understand how it is possible for Men to act
wickedly, _ratione summa_[447].
[Sidenote: _Twenty-eighth Lecture._]
We are come now to the Conclusion of the Definition; in the last Clause
of which, expressing the Invention of Tragedy, after these Words,
_to raise the Passions, particularly those of Pity and Terror_; we
have the following, and _to purge the Mind from them_. It remains,
therefore, for us to shew, by what Means Tragedy _purges the Passions_,
and that by putting them in Motion, which seems to promise a quite
contrary Effect: And when that is done, just to point out whence that
Pleasure arises, which we receive from Tragedy; or from what the Causes
discoverable in the inmost Recesses of our Nature, our Minds are
delighted with Sorrow, and feel a pleasing Anguish, even from Terror and
Commiseration. To these Enquiries, I shall, at present, content myself
with a short Answer, which shall be enlarg'd hereafter, in a Work that
will be publish'd in our own Tongue, a few Months hence, and which
has already had the Honour of being encourag'd, by the Subscriptions
of several Gentlemen in this Body; to whom I here return my publick
Acknowledgments. The Work I mean, is an _English Translation of Virgil's
Æneis_: Where, in some Observations upon the fourth Book, this nice
and difficult Point shall be discuss'd at large. In the mean Time, the
Nature of my present Design makes it necessary for me just to touch upon
it here.
Are the Passions, then, to be purg'd, even by their being put in
Agitation? Yes; and why not? Bile and Phlegm, and other Humours in the
Human Body, cannot be carried off, unless they are first fermented, and
put in Motion: Nay, Humours are often expell'd by Medicines of the same
Nature and Temperament; as Acids by Acids; Bitters by Bitters; and so
of the rest. Some of the Passions, therefore, are purg'd by themselves,
as Terror, and Pity; others, again, by the Means of these two. Terror
and Pity, as I have said, have this Effect upon themselves; because
such dramatical Representations make us more accustom'd to miserable
and dreadful Objects; on which Account they become more familiar to
us, and, consequently, affect us with less Misery and Terror. "By this
Means, (says[448]_Vossius_) Tragedy is said περαινειν την των
τοιουτων παθηματων καθαρσιν, to purge and relieve the Mind from such
Perturbations; just as (to mention one Instance out of many) the View
of those Calamities, which have formerly been the Lot of great Men,
teaches others to bear their present Afflictions with Patience. To
which Purpose, _Athenæus_ has quoted some elegant Verses of _Timocles_,
at the Beginning of his sixth Book." And in another Place, says
_Vossius_, [449]"The Design of Tragedy is to strike a Terror in the
Audience, ικπληζαι, as _Polybius_ expresses it in his second
Book, where he is discoursing against _Phylarchus_ of the different Ends
which Historians and Tragic Poets have in View. The Audience feel this
Emotion from a View of the Calamity before them, and the Anguish is
still heighten'd by the Dignity of the Sufferers. But the Design of this
Emotion is to purge the Mind from those very Passions. For, as a Veteran
Soldier, or Physician, by being often conversant with Objects of real
Misery, have this Advantage, that they make no greater Impression upon
them, than they ought; so, in Tragedy, by seeing the violent Effects of
the Passions, the Mind is taught to restrain them within due Bounds.
Hence it is plain, why _Aristotle_ says, as we observ'd, that the End
of Tragedy is to _purge the Passions_; in which he differs entirely
from _Plato_, who look'd upon Tragedies as the Inflammatories of them,
_Aristotle_ as their proper Correctives."
To which I may add, that when the Passions have been long exercis'd with
imaginary Distress, their Strength is so much abated, that they have the
less left to exert upon real Misery. The Observation which _Simo_ makes
in _Terence_ about deceiving _Davus_ with the Appearance of a Wedding,
may be almost as justly applied to the Excess of Passion (for the Excess
is what we speak of, since the Passions are in themselves good).
_Simul sceleratus Davus, si quid consili
Habet, ut consumat nunc, cum nihil obsint doli._
Taking the Question, then, in this View, the Passions may be sometimes
purg'd by the Violence of their own Agitations: As Wind, which is
nothing else but Air in a more rapid Motion, carries off those noxious
Vapours that are mix'd with it, and would otherwise be the Occasion of
Diseases.
The Passions, therefore, of Terror and Pity, are purg'd by their own
Operations, and the rest by their Means. For Tragedies not only give us
a Representation of violent and licentious Love, of Anger, Ambition,
Revenge, and the like; but the Audience, by the Impressions of Terror
and Pity, are made to feel the Effects of them. Yet there seems to be
a Sort of Fallacy in this. Are not some Passions rais'd to enormous
Heights, and a wild Licentiousness, even by their being represented;
especially that of Love, which seems to be the whole Business of our
modern Tragedies. Have not such Ideas so strongly impress'd more
Influence upon the Imagination, than the poetical Medicines can carry
off, which are not applied till after the Fit is begun, only by
describing the criminal Excess, or fatal Consequence of these Passions?
As human Nature is but too prone to indulge the Extravagance of them,
may it nor be justly said,
_Sponte sua properant, labor est inhibere volantes?_
The Coursers of themselves will run too fast,
The Art must be to moderate their Haste.
_Addison._
Are they not more inflam'd by the Representation, than corrected by the
Remedy? To these, and all other Scruples of this Sort, this seems to be
the proper Answer: That these Effects are, or are not to be expected,
just according to the Nature and Manner of the Performance. As the Case,
in Fact, is, an Audience is more likely to receive ill Impressions, than
Instruction, from modern Tragedies: It is one Thing to shew the Passions
by their _Symptoms_, (to use the Language of the Physicians) _i.e._ by
their _Appearances_ and _Effects_; another to represent and _excite_
them by all the Methods of _Insinuation_ and _Allurement_. In this the
later Tragedies, especially those of our own Country, are scandalously
faulty: Not so the ancient, nor the _Grecian_ Writers, who shame us
_Christians_, by making the Glory of Chastity their own. But Tragedies
that are form'd upon the Plan of Reason, and of Virtue, please the Mind
without corrupting it: They furnish the Imagination with agreeable
Images, without conveying any dangerous Poison under the Cover of them;
they unbend the Mind, without debasing it to Softness, and Effeminacy:
They describe and represent the Passions, as they are seated in all
the tumultuous Disorder in the Soul; but this is so far from exciting
us to the same Extravagance, that it is the sure Way to deter us from
it. There is, I own, something pleasant in such Descriptions; but the
Pleasure rises from no vicious Source, from no bad Principle; but from
the Imitation, the Elegance, and the Art of the Poet, which strikes
out such lively Images of human Nature; and, lastly, from the pleasing
Anguish which Terror and Compassion raise within us: Which suggests to
me the other Enquiry, that of accounting for the secret Causes of this
Pleasure.
_Vossius_ seems by no Means to give a full Solution of this Difficulty.
"It may be a Question (says he[451]) how Tragedy can supply us with
Delight, which is the End of all Poetry, since it represents Sorrow and
Distress; and the Misfortunes, especially those of great Persons, can
give no Satisfaction to a virtuous Mind. In Answer to this Difficulty,
we may observe, that the Pleasure arises not from the Calamities of
others, but from the Art of the Poet. How much does the Sight of real
Dragons and Monsters fill us with Terror! but the Pictures of them
give us Pleasure, because we are entertain'd with the Skill of the
Painter. Besides, it is some Satisfaction, to be acquainted with such
Misfortunes, because they may make us more cautious and prudent." What
_Scaliger_ has said, is much to the same Purpose. "But here (says
he[452]) it may be objected, that Delight is included in the very
Definition of Poetry: But, in Tragedy, how can the Anguish of Sorrow,
Mourning and Distress, be entertaining? The Reason is, because Pleasure
does not flow from Joy only, but from acquiring any Sort of Learning.
Now the Spectator has the Benefit of making such an Acquisition; thus
we behold Pictures with Pleasure, and are delighted with the most
hideous Forms." But neither of these Answers come up to the Point:
Undoubtedly great Part of the Pleasure that is given us, arises, as we
before observ'd, from the Skill of the Poet, but from Nature a much
greater, which _Vossius_ and _Scaliger_[453] take no Notice of. Indeed,
we may learn, and our Prudence may, and ought to be improv'd by these
Representations: But the Mind, in the Pleasure it receives, has no
Regard to these prudential Considerations. The Pleasure, therefore, of
Pity, seems to arise, first, from hence, that if Things go well with us,
another Man's Miseries, plac'd in View before us, make us more sensible
of our own Happiness, and teach us to feel the Value of it: According to
_Lucretius_'s Observation, so often quoted:
_Suave, mari magno, turbantibus æquora ventis,
E terra magnum alterius spectare laborem;
Non quia vexari quenquam est jucunda voluptas,
Sed, quibus ipse malis careas, quia cernere suave est._
'Tis pleasant, when the Seas are rough, to stand
And view another's Danger safe at Land:
Not 'cause he's troubled, but 'tis sweet to see
Those Cares and Fears, from which ourselves are free.
_Creech._
If we are in Affliction, the Representation of the like Miseries makes
our own more supportable. In both these Cases, the Pleasure arises
from the Comparison, a Principle to which great Part of the Misery and
Felicity of human Life is owing. It is commonly said, that _no Body is
miserable but by Comparison_; and it may be as truly said, that _no Body
is happy but by Comparison_. But perhaps it may be here observ'd, that
this Solution does not reach the Difficulty: Pity has no Relation to
ourselves, but to others; I should rather think it has to both: And how
much soever we apply it to others, the Estimate is made from ourselves.
Nor is this alone sufficient to explain fully the Point in Question:
Another Cause of this Pleasure is, the Operation of the Mind upon
itself, or (what the Schools call) its _reflex Act_. It contemplates
that generous and humane Disposition, which inclines it towards others,
and is conscious that this Commiseration does, in some Measure, arise
from it. Perhaps it may be objected, that these two Principles are
not consistent, since the one is an Evidence of Self-love, the other
of a great and generous Mind: I shall take another Opportunity, as I
have said, of shewing the strict Alliance there is between these two
Principles; and that Self-love, taken in its full Latitude, ought to
be allow'd as the Source of all our Passions, and the great Principle
of human Actions[455]. As to Terror, the Delight it gives us in
Tragedy, comes from hence; at first, (so rapid is the Current of our
Ideas) we are affected with this Appearance of Distress, as if it was
real; and then, by an agreeable Turn of Thought, we recollect, that
this is all imaginary, and that there is no Danger. There are other
Circumstances[456], which I shall take no Notice of at present, nor stay
to enlarge upon those Hints I have given, because I shall examine them
more at large in the foremention'd Dissertation.
_Æschylus_, _Sophocles_, and _Euripides_, the only _Greek_ Tragic Poets
that we have now left, are well known.
If we compare the ancient and modern Writers of Tragedy, the latter
are much superior in forming and unravelling the Plot. The former
have shewn a good deal of this Contrivance in their Comedies, but in
their Tragedies very little; the Moderns in both. The chief Design
of the ancient Tragic Poets was, to raise Terror, rather than Pity;
of the Moderns, Compassion rather. The former excel in the Greatness
and Magnificence of their Sentiments; the latter in the Variety, and
passionate Parts of them. In one you have more Excellencies, in the
other fewer Faults. Among the Moderns, none deserve any Comparison but
the _French_ Writers and our own: They, indeed, are elegant, ingenious,
exact in observing Rules, and fond of imitating the Ancients; but want
Spirit, Vigour, and poetic Fire:
_Non spirant tragicum satis, aut feliciter audent._
The _English_ are not to be charg'd with this Defect; nor does the
Impetuosity of their Genius hinder their having a Regard to the Rules of
Art. Mons. _Rapin_ allows that they excel all the Nations in _Europe_,
except his own: Whence we may be allow'd to conclude, that there is no
great Reason for that Exception.