with a notion, that when they represent a virtuous or innocent person in
distress, they ought not to leave him till they have delivered him out
of his troubles, or made him triumph over his enemies.
'This _error_ they have been led into by a _ridiculous_ doctrine in
_Modern Criticism_, that they are obliged to an _equal distribution_ of
_rewards_ and _punishments_, and an impartial execution of _poetical
justice_.
'Who were the first that established this rule, I know not; but I am
sure it has no foundation in NATURE, in REASON, or in the PRACTICE OF
THE ANTIENTS.
'We find, that good and evil happen alike unto ALL MEN on this side the
grave: And as the principal design of Tragedy is to raise commiseration
and terror in the minds of the audience, we shall defeat this great end,
if we always make Virtue and Innocence happy and successful.
'Whatever crosses and disappointments a good man suffers in the _Body_
of the Tragedy, they will make but small impression on our minds, when
we know, that, in the _last Act_, he is to arrive at the end of his
wishes and desires.
'When we see him engaged in the depth of his afflictions, we are apt to
comfort ourselves, because we are sure he will find his way out of them,
and that his grief, how great soever it may be at present, will soon
terminate in gladness.
'For this reason, the antient Writers of Tragedy treated men in their
_Plays_, as they are dealt with in the _World_, by making Virtue
sometimes happy and sometimes miserable, as they found it in the Fable
which they made choice of, or as it might affect their Audience in the
most agreeable manner.
'Aristotle considers the Tragedies that were written in either of those
kinds; and observes, that those which ended unhappily had always pleased
the people, and carried away the Prize, in the public disputes of the
Stage, from those that ended happily.
'Terror and Commiseration leave a _pleasing anguish_ in the mind, and
fix the Audience in such a serious composure of thought, as is much more
lasting and delightful, than any little transient Starts of Joy and
Satisfaction.
'Accordingly we find, that more of our English Tragedies have succeeded,
in which the Favourites of the Audience sink under their calamities,
than those in which they recover themselves out of them.
'The best Plays of this kind are _The Orphan_, _Venice Preserved_,
_Alexander the Great_, _Theodosius_, _All for Love_, _Oedipus_,
_Oroonoko_, _Othello_, &c.
'King _Lear_ is an admirable Tragedy of the same kind, as Shakespeare
wrote it: But as it is reformed according to the _chimerical notion_ of
POETICAL JUSTICE, in my humble opinion it has lost half its beauty.
'At the same time I must allow, that there are very noble Tragedies,
which have been framed upon the other Plan, and have ended happily; as
indeed most of the good Tragedies which have been written since the
starting of the above-mentioned Criticism, have taken this turn: As _The
Mourning Bride_, _Tamerlane_[38], _Ulysses_, _Phaedra and Hippolytus_,
with most of Mr. Dryden's. I must also allow, that many of
Shakespeare's, and several of the celebrated Tragedies of Antiquity, are
cast in the same form. I do not therefore dispute against this way of
writing Tragedies; but against the Criticism that would establish This
as the _only_ method; and by that means would very much cramp the
English Tragedy, and perhaps give a wrong bent to the genius of our
writers.'
'This subject is further considered in a Letter to the Spectator[39].
"I find your opinion, says the author of it, concerning the
_late-invented_ term called _Poetical Justice_, is controverted by some
eminent critics. I have drawn up some additional arguments to strengthen
the opinion which you have there delivered; having endeavoured to go to
the bottom of that matter....
"The most perfect man has vices enough to draw down punishments upon his
head, and to justify Providence in regard to any miseries that may befal
him. For this reason I cannot think but that the instruction and moral
are much finer, where a man who is virtuous in the main of his character
falls into distress, and sinks under the blows of fortune, at the end of
a Tragedy, than when he is represented as happy and triumphant. Such an
example corrects the insolence of human nature, softens the mind of the
beholder with sentiments of pity and compassion, comforts him under his
own private affliction, and teaches him not to judge of mens virtues by
their successes[40]. I cannot think of one real hero in all antiquity so
far raised above human infirmities, that he might not be very naturally
represented in a Tragedy as plunged in misfortunes and calamities. The
Poet may still find out some prevailing passion or indiscretion in his
character, and shew it in such a manner as will sufficiently acquit
Providence of any injustice in his sufferings: For, as Horace observes,
the best man is faulty, tho' not in so great a degree as those whom we
generally call vicious men[41].
"If such a strict _Poetical Justice_ (_proceeds the Letter-writer_), as
some gentlemen insist upon, were to be observed in this art, there is no
manner of reason why it should not extend to heroic Poetry, as well as
Tragedy. But we find it so little observed in Homer, that his Achilles
is placed in the greatest point of glory and success, tho' his Character
is morally vicious, and only _poetically_ good, if I may use the phrase
of our modern Critics. The _AEneid_ is filled with innocent unhappy
persons. Nisus and Euryalus, Lausus and Pallas, come all to unfortunate
ends. The Poet takes notice in particular, that, in the sacking of Troy,
Ripheus fell, who was the most just man among the Trojans:
"----_Cadit & Ripheus justissimus unus
Qui fuit in Teucris, & servantissimus aequi.
Diis aliter visum est.----_
"The gods thought fit.--So blameless Ripheus fell,
Who lov'd fair Justice, and observ'd it well.
"And that Pantheus could neither be preserved by his transcendent piety,
nor by the holy fillets of Apollo, whose priest he was:
"----_Nec te tua plurima, Pantheu,
Labentem pietas, nec Apollinis infula texit._ AEn. II.
"Nor could thy piety thee, Pantheus, save,
Nor ev'n thy priesthood, from an early grave.
"I might here mention the practice of antient Tragic Poets, both Greek
and Latin; but as this particular is touched upon in the Paper
above-mentioned, I shall pass it over in silence. I could produce
passages out of Aristotle in favour of my opinion: And if in one place
he says, that an absolutely virtuous man should not be represented as
unhappy, this does not justify any one who shall think fit to bring in
an absolutely virtuous man upon the stage. Those who are acquainted with
that author's way of writing, know very well, that to take the whole
extent of his subject into his divisions of it, he often makes use of
such cases as are imaginary, and not reducible to practice....
"I shall conclude, _says this gentleman_, with observing, that tho' the
_Spectator_ above-mentioned is so far against the rule of _Poetical
Justice_, as to affirm, that good men may meet with an unhappy
Catastrophe in Tragedy, it does not say, that ill men may go off
unpunished. The reason for this distinction is very plain; namely,
because the best of men [as is said above] have faults enough to justify
Providence for any misfortunes and afflictions which may befal them; but
there are many men so criminal, that they can have no claim or pretence
to happiness. The _best_ of men may deserve punishment; but the _worst_
of men cannot deserve happiness."
Mr. Addison, as we have seen above, tells us, that Aristotle, in
considering the Tragedies that were written in either of the kinds,
observes, that those which ended unhappily had always pleased the
people, and carried away the prize, in the public disputes of the Stage,
from those that ended happily. And we shall take leave to add, that this
preference was given at a time when the entertainments of the Stage were
committed to the care of the magistrates; when the prizes contended for
were given by the State; when, of consequence, the emulation among
writers was ardent; and when learning was at the highest pitch of glory
in that renowned commonwealth.
It cannot be supposed, that the Athenians, in this their highest age of
taste and politeness, were less humane, less tender-hearted, than we of
the present. But they were not _afraid_ of being moved, nor _ashamed_ of
shewing themselves to be so, at the distresses they saw well painted and
represented. In short, they were of the opinion, with the wisest of men,
_That it was better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of
mirth_; and had fortitude enough to trust themselves with their own
generous grief, because they found their hearts mended by it.
Thus also Horace, and the politest Romans in the Augustan age, wished to
be affected:
_Ac ne forte putes me, quae facere ipse recusem,
Cum recte tractant alii, laudare maligne;
Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur
Ire poeta, meum qui pectus inaniter angit,
Irritat, mulcet; falsis terroribus implet,
Ut magus; & modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis_.
Thus Englished by Mr. Pope:
Yet, lest you think I railly more than teach,
Or praise malignly _Arts_ I cannot reach,
Let me, for once, presume t'instruct the times
To know the _Poet_ from the _Man of Rhymes_.
'Tis He who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me _feel_ each passion that he feigns;
Enrage--compose--with more than magic art,
With _pity_ and with _terror_ tear my heart;
And snatch me o'er the earth, or thro' the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when he will, and where.
Our fair readers are also desired to attend to what a celebrated
Critic[42] of a neighbouring nation says on the nature and design of
Tragedy, from the rules laid down by the same great Antient.
'Tragedy, says he, makes man _modest_, by representing the great masters
of the earth humbled; and it makes him _tender_ and _merciful_, by
shewing him the _strange accidents of life_, and the _unforeseen
disgraces_ to which the most important persons are subject.
'But because Man is naturally timorous and compassionate, he may fall
into other extremes. Too much fear may shake his constancy of mind, and
too much compassion may enfeeble his equity. 'Tis the business of
Tragedy to regulate these two weaknesses. It prepares and arms him
against _disgraces_, by shewing them so frequent in the most
considerable persons; and he will cease to fear extraordinary accidents,
when he sees them happen to the _highest_ part of Mankind. And still
more efficacious, we may add, the example will be, when he sees them
happen to the _best_.
'But as the end of Tragedy is to teach men not to fear too weakly
_common misfortunes_, it proposes also to teach them to spare their
compassion for objects that _deserve it_. For there is an _injustice_ in
being moved at the afflictions of those who _deserve to be miserable_.
We may see, without pity, Clytemnestra slain by her son Orestes in
AEschylus, because she had murdered Agamemnon her husband; yet we cannot
see Hippolytus die by the plot of his Stepmother Phaedra, in Euripides,
without compassion, because he died not, but for being chaste and
virtuous.'
'These are the great authorities so favourable to the stories that end
unhappily. And we beg leave to reinforce this inference from them, That
if the temporary sufferings of the Virtuous and the Good can be
accounted for and justified on Pagan principles, many more and
infinitely stronger reasons will occur to a Christian Reader in behalf
of what are called unhappy Catastrophes from the consideration of the
doctrine of _future rewards_; which is every-where strongly inforced in
the History of Clarissa.
'Of this (to give but one instance) an ingenious Modern, distinguished
by his rank, but much more for his excellent defence of some of the most
important doctrines of Christianity, appears convinced in the conclusion
of a pathetic _Monody_, lately published; in which, after he had
deplored, as a man _without hope_, (expressing ourselves in the
Scripture phrase) the loss of an excellent Wife; he thus consoles
himself:
'_Yet, O my soul! thy rising murmurs stay,
Nor dare th' All-wise Disposer to arraign,
Or against his supreme decree
With impious grief complain.
That all thy full-blown joys at once should fade,
Was his most righteous Will: And be that Will obey'd._
'_Would thy fond love his grace to her controul,
And in these low abodes of sin and pain
Her pure, exalted soul,
Unjustly, for thy partial good, detain?
No--rather strive thy groveling mind to raise
Up to that unclouded blaze,
That heav'nly radiance of eternal light,
In which enthroned she now with pity sees
How frail, how insecure, how slight
Is ev'ry mortal bliss._
'But of infinitely greater weight than all that has been above produced
on this subject, are the words of the Psalmist.
"As for me, says he[43], my feet were almost gone, my step had well-nigh
slipt: For I was envious at the foolish, when I saw the prosperity of
the wicked. For their strength is firm: They are not in trouble as other
men; neither are they plagued like other men--Their eyes stand out with
fatness: They have more than their heart could wish--Verily I have
cleansed mine heart in vain, and washed my hands in innocence; for all
the day long have I been plagued, and chastened every morning. When I
thought to know this, it was too painful for me. Until I went into the
sanctuary of God; then understood I their end--Thou shalt guide me with
thy counsel, and afterward receive me to glory.'
'This is the Psalmist's comfort and dependence. And shall man, presuming
to alter the common course of nature, and, so far as he is able, to
elude the tenure by which frail mortality indispensibly holds, imagine,
that he can make a better dispensation; and by calling it _Poetical
Justice_, indirectly reflect on the _Divine_?
The more pains have been taken to obviate the objections arising from
the notion of _Poetical Justice_, as the doctrine built upon it had
obtained general credit among us; and as it must be confessed to have
the appearance of _humanity_ and _good-nature_ for its supports. And yet
the writer of the History of Clarissa is humbly of opinion, that he
might have been excused referring to them for the vindication of _his_
Catastrophe, even by those who are advocates for the contrary opinion;
since the notion of _Poetical Justice_, founded on the _modern rules_,
has hardly ever been more strictly observed in works of this nature,
than in the present performance.
For, Is not Mr. Lovelace, who could persevere in his villainous views,
against the strongest and most frequent convictions and remorses that
ever were sent to awaken and reclaim a wicked man--Is not this great,
this _wilful_ transgressor, condignly _punished_; and his punishment
brought on thro' the intelligence of the very Joseph Leman whom he had
corrupted[44]; and by means of the very women whom he had
debauched[45]--Is not Mr. Belton, who has an Uncle's _hastened_ death to
answer for[46]--Are not the _whole_ Harlowe-family--Is not the vile
Tomlinson--Are not the infamous Sinclair, and her _wretched
partners_--And even the wicked _Servants_, who, with their eyes open,
contributed their parts to the carrying on of the vile schemes of their
respective principals--_Are they not All likewise exemplarily punished?_
On the other hand, Is not Miss HOWE, for her noble friendship to the
exalted Lady in her calamities--Is not Mr. HICKMAN, for his
unexceptionable morals, and integrity of life--Is not the repentant and
not ungenerous BELFORD--Is not the worthy NORTON--_made signally happy_?
And who that are in earnest in their profession of Christianity, but
will rather envy than regret the triumphant death of CLARISSA; whose
piety, from her _early childhood_; whose diffusive charity; whose steady
virtue; whose Christian humility; whose forgiving spirit; whose
meekness, and resignation, HEAVEN _only_ could reward[47]?
"We shall now, according to expectation given in the _Preface_ to this
Edition, proceed to take brief notice of such other objections as have
come to our knowlege: For as is there said, 'This Work being addressed
to the Public as an History of _Life_ and _Manners_, those parts of it
which are proposed to carry with them the force of Example, ought to be
as unobjectible as is consistent with the _design of the whole_, and
with _human Nature_.'
"Several persons have censured the Heroine as too cold in her love, too
haughty, and even sometimes provoking. But we may presume to say, that
this objection has arisen from want of attention to the Story, to the
Character of Clarissa, and to her particular situation.
"It was not intended that she should be _in Love_, but _in Liking_ only,
if that expression may be admitted. It is meant to be every-where
inculcated in the Story, for _Example-sake_, that she never would have
married Mr. Lovelace, because of his immoralities, had she been left to
herself; and that her ruin was principally owing to the persecutions of
her friends.
"What is too generally called _Love_, ought (perhaps _as_ generally) to
be called by another name. _Cupidity_, or a _Paphian Stimulus_, as some
women, even of condition, have acted, are not words too harsh to be
substituted on the occasion, however grating they may be to delicate
ears. But take the word _Love_ in the gentlest and most honourable
sense, it would have been thought by some highly improbable, that
Clarissa should have been able to shew such a command of her passions,
as makes so distinguishing a part of her Character, had she been as
violently in Love, as certain warm and fierce spirits would have had her
to be. A few Observations are thrown in by way of Note in the present
Edition, at proper places, to obviate this Objection, or rather to
bespeak the _Attention_ of hasty Readers to what lies obviously before
them. For thus the Heroine anticipates this very Objection,
expostulating with Miss Howe, on her contemptuous treatment of Mr.
Hickman; which [far from being guilty of the same fault herself] she did
on all occasions, and declares she would do, whenever Miss Howe forgot
herself, altho' she had not a day to live:
"'O my dear, says she, that it had been my Lot (as I was not permitted
to live single) to have met with a man, by whom I _could_ have acted
generously and unreservedly!
"'Mr. Lovelace, it is now plain, in order to have a pretence against me,
taxed my behaviour to him with stiffness and distance. You, at one time,
thought me guilty of some degree of Prudery. Difficult situations should
be allowed for; which often make seeming occasions for censure unavoidable.
I deserved not blame from _him_, who made mine difficult. And if I had
had any other man to deal with than Mr. Lovelace, or had he had but half
the merit which Mr Hickman has, you, my Dear, should have found, that my
Doctrine, on this Subject, should have governed my Practice.' See this
whole Letter[48]; See also Mr. Lovelace's Letter No lxxvii. Vol. VII.
p. 310. _& seq._ where, just before his Death, he entirely acquits her
conduct on this head.
"It has been thought by some worthy and ingenious persons, that if
Lovelace had been drawn an _Infidel_ or _Scoffer_, his Character,
according to the Taste of the present worse than Sceptical Age, would
have been more natural. It is, however, too well known, that there are
very many persons, of his Cast, whose actions discredit their belief.
And are not the very Devils, in Scripture, said to _believe_ and
_tremble_?
"But the Reader must have observed, that great, and, it is hoped, good
Use, has been made throughout the Work, by drawing Lovelace an Infidel
only in _Practice_; and this as well in the arguments of his friend
Belford, as in his own frequent Remorses, when touched with temporary
Compunction, and in his last Scenes; which could not have been made, had
either of them been painted as _sentimental_ Unbelievers. Not to say,
that Clarissa, whose great Objection to Mr. Wyerly was, that he was a
Scoffer, must have been inexcusable had she known Lovelace to be so, and
had given the least attention to his Addresses. On the contrary, thus
she comforts herself, when she thinks she must be his--'This one
consolation, however, remains: He is not an Infidel, an Unbeliever. Had
he been an Infidel, there would have been no room at all for hope of
him; but (priding himself as he does in his fertile invention) he would
have been utterly abandoned, irreclaimable, and a Savage[49].' And it
must be observed, that Scoffers are too witty in their own opinion; in
other words, value themselves too much upon their profligacy, to aim at
concealing it.
"Besides, had Lovelace added ribbald jests upon Religion, to his other
liberties, the freedoms which would then have passed between him and his
friend, must have been of a nature truly infernal. And this farther hint
was meant to be given, by way of inference, that the man who allowed
himself in those liberties either of speech or action, which Lovelace
thought shameful, was so far a worse man than Lovelace. For this reason
is he every-where made to treat jests on sacred things and subjects,
even down to the Mythology of the Pagans, among Pagans, as undoubted
marks of the ill-breeding of the jesters; obscene images and talk, as
liberties too shameful for even Rakes to allow themselves in; and
injustice to creditors, and in matters of _Meum_ and _Tuum_, as what it
was beneath him to be guilty of.
"Some have objected to the meekness, to the tameness, as they will have
it to be, of the character of Mr. Hickman. And yet Lovelace owns, that
he rose upon him with great spirit in the interview between them; once,
when he thought a reflection was but implied on _Miss Howe_[50]; and
another time, when he imagined _himself_ treated contemptuously[51].
Miss Howe, it must be owned (tho' not to the credit of her own
character) treats him ludicrously on several occasions. But so she does
her Mother. And perhaps a Lady of her lively turn would have treated as
whimsically any man but a Lovelace. Mr. Belford speaks of him with
honour and respect[52]. So does Colonel Morden[53]. And so does Clarissa
on every occasion. And all that Miss Howe herself says of him, tends
more to his reputation than discredit[54], as Clarissa indeed tells
her[55].
"And as to Lovelace's treatment of him, the Reader must have observed,
that it was his way to treat every man with contempt, partly by way of
self exaltation, and partly to gratify the natural gaiety of his
disposition. He says himself to Belford[56], 'Thou knowest I love him
not, Jack; and whom we love not, we cannot allow a merit to; perhaps not
the merit they should be granted.' 'Modest and diffident men,' writes
Belford, to Lovelace, in praise of Mr. Hickman, 'wear not soon off those
little precisenesses, which the confident, if ever they had them,
presently get over[57].'
"But, as Miss Howe treats her Mother as freely as she does her Lover; so
does Mr. Lovelace take still greater liberties with Mr. Belford, than he
does with Mr. Hickman, with respect to his person, air, and address, as
Mr. Belford himself hints to Mr. Hickman[58]. And yet he is not so
readily believed to the discredit of Mr. Belford, by the Ladies in
general, as he is when he disparages Mr. Hickman. Whence can this
partiality arise?--
"_Mr. Belford had been a Rake: But was in a way of reformation._
"_Mr. Hickman had always been a good man._
"_And Lovelace_ confidently says, _That the women love a man whose
regard for them is founded in the knowlege of them_[59].