R.

[Footnote 1: Dr. Thomas Burnet, who produced in 1681 the 'Telluris

Theoria Sacra,' translated in 1690 as 'the Sacred Theory of the Earth,'

was living in the 'Spectator's' time. He died in 1715, aged 80. He was

for 30 years Master of the Charter-house, and set himself against James

II. in refusing to admit a Roman Catholic as a Poor Brother. Burnet's

Theory, a romance that passed for science in its day, was opposed in

1696 by Whiston in his 'New Theory of the Earth' (one all for Fire, the

other all for Water), and the new Romance was Science even in the eyes

of Locke. Addison, from Oxford in 1699, addressed a Latin ode to Burnet.]

[Footnote 2: Lord Cowper.]

* * * * *

No. 39. Saturday, April 14, 1711. Addison.

'Multa fero, ut placem genus irritabile vatum,

Cum scribo.'

Hor.

As a perfect Tragedy is the Noblest Production of Human Nature, so it is

capable of giving the Mind one of the most delightful and most improving

Entertainments. A virtuous Man (says _Seneca_) struggling with

Misfortunes, is such a Spectacle as Gods might look upon with Pleasure:

[1] And such a Pleasure it is which one meets with in the Representation

of a well-written Tragedy. Diversions of this kind wear out of our

Thoughts every thing that is mean and little. They cherish and cultivate

that Humanity which is the Ornament of our Nature. They soften

Insolence, sooth Affliction, and subdue the Mind to the Dispensations of

Providence.

It is no Wonder therefore that in all the polite Nations of the World,

this part of the _Drama_ has met with publick Encouragement.

The modern Tragedy excels that of _Greece_ and _Rome_, in the Intricacy

and Disposition of the Fable; but, what a Christian Writer would be

ashamed to own, falls infinitely short of it in the Moral Part of the

Performance.

This I [may [2]] shew more at large hereafter; and in the mean time,

that I may contribute something towards the Improvement of the _English_

Tragedy, I shall take notice, in this and in other following Papers, of

some particular Parts in it that seem liable to Exception.

_Aristotle_ [3] observes, that the _Iambick_ Verse in the _Greek_ Tongue

was the most proper for Tragedy: Because at the same time that it lifted

up the Discourse from Prose, it was that which approached nearer to it

than any other kind of Verse. For, says he, we may observe that Men in

Ordinary Discourse very often speak _Iambicks_, without taking notice of

it. We may make the same Observation of our _English_ Blank Verse, which

often enters into our Common Discourse, though we do not attend to it,

and is such a due Medium between Rhyme and Prose, that it seems

wonderfully adapted to Tragedy. I am therefore very much offended when I

see a Play in Rhyme, which is as absurd in _English_, as a Tragedy of

_Hexameters_ would have been in _Greek_ or _Latin_. The Solaecism is, I

think, still greater, in those Plays that have some Scenes in Rhyme and

some in Blank Verse, which are to be looked upon as two several

Languages; or where we see some particular Similies dignifyed with

Rhyme, at the same time that everything about them lyes in Blank Verse.

I would not however debar the Poet from concluding his Tragedy, or, if

he pleases, every Act of it, with two or three Couplets, which may have

the same Effect as an Air in the _Italian_ Opera after a long

_Recitativo_, and give the Actor a graceful _Exit_. Besides that we see

a Diversity of Numbers in some Parts of the Old Tragedy, in order to

hinder the Ear from being tired with the same continued Modulation of

Voice. For the same Reason I do not dislike the Speeches in our

_English_ Tragedy that close with an _Hemistick_, or half Verse,

notwithstanding the Person who speaks after it begins a new Verse,

without filling up the preceding one; Nor with abrupt Pauses and

Breakings-off in the middle of a Verse, when they humour any Passion

that is expressed by it.

Since I am upon this Subject, I must observe that our _English_ Poets

have succeeded much better in the Style, than in the Sentiments of their

Tragedies. Their Language is very often Noble and Sonorous, but the

Sense either very trifling or very common. On the contrary, in the

Ancient Tragedies, and indeed in those of _Corneille_ and _Racine_ [4]

tho' the Expressions are very great, it is the Thought that bears them

up and swells them. For my own part, I prefer a noble Sentiment that is

depressed with homely Language, infinitely before a vulgar one that is

blown up with all the Sound and Energy of Expression. Whether this

Defect in our Tragedies may arise from Want of Genius, Knowledge, or

Experience in the Writers, or from their Compliance with the vicious

Taste of their Readers, who are better Judges of the Language than of

the Sentiments, and consequently relish the one more than the other, I

cannot determine. But I believe it might rectify the Conduct both of the

one and of the other, if the Writer laid down the whole Contexture of

his Dialogue in plain _English_, before he turned it into Blank Verse;

and if the Reader, after the Perusal of a Scene, would consider the

naked Thought of every Speech in it, when divested of all its Tragick

Ornaments. By this means, without being imposed upon by Words, we may

judge impartially of the Thought, and consider whether it be natural or

great enough for the Person that utters it, whether it deserves to shine

in such a Blaze of Eloquence, or shew itself in such a Variety of Lights

as are generally made use of by the Writers of our _English_ Tragedy.

I must in the next place observe, that when our Thoughts are great and

just, they are often obscured by the sounding Phrases, hard Metaphors,

and forced Expressions in which they are cloathed. _Shakespear_ is often

very Faulty in this Particular. There is a fine Observation in

_Aristotle_ to this purpose, which I have never seen quoted. The

Expression, says he, ought to be very much laboured in the unactive

Parts of the Fable, as in Descriptions, Similitudes, Narrations, and the

like; in which the Opinions, Manners and Passions of Men are not

represented; for these (namely the Opinions, Manners and Passions) are

apt to be obscured by Pompous Phrases, and Elaborate Expressions. [5]

_Horace_, who copied most of his Criticisms after _Aristotle_, seems to

have had his Eye on the foregoing Rule in the following Verses:

Et Tragicus plerumque dolet Sermone pedestri,

Telephus et Peleus, cum pauper et exul uterque,

Projicit ampullas et sesquipedalia verba,

Si curat cor Spectantis tetigisse querelâ.

Tragedians too lay by their State, to grieve_.

Peleus _and_ Telephus, _Exit'd and Poor,

Forget their Swelling and Gigantick Words.

(Ld. ROSCOMMON.)

Among our Modern _English_ Poets, there is none who was better turned

for Tragedy than _Lee_; [6] if instead of favouring the Impetuosity of

his Genius, he had restrained it, and kept it within its proper Bounds.

His Thoughts are wonderfully suited to Tragedy, but frequently lost in

such a Cloud of Words, that it is hard to see the Beauty of them: There

is an infinite Fire in his Works, but so involved in Smoak, that it does

not appear in half its Lustre. He frequently succeeds in the Passionate

Parts of the Tragedy, but more particularly where he slackens his

Efforts, and eases the Style of those Epithets and Metaphors, in which

he so much abounds. What can be more Natural, more Soft, or more

Passionate, than that Line in _Statira's_ Speech, where she describes

the Charms of _Alexander's_ Conversation?

_Then he would talk: Good Gods! how he would talk!_

That unexpected Break in the Line, and turning the Description of his

Manner of Talking into an Admiration of it, is inexpressibly Beautiful,

and wonderfully suited, to the fond Character of the Person that speaks

it. There is a Simplicity in the Words, that outshines the utmost Pride

of Expression.

_Otway_ [7] has followed Nature in the Language of his Tragedy, and

therefore shines in the Passionate Parts, more than any of our _English_

Poets. As there is something Familiar and Domestick in the Fable of his

Tragedy, more than in those of any other Poet, he has little Pomp, but

great Force in his Expressions. For which Reason, though he has

admirably succeeded in the tender and melting Part of his Tragedies, he

sometimes falls into too great a Familiarity of Phrase in those Parts,

which, by _Aristotle's_ Rule, ought to have been raised and supported by

the Dignity of Expression.

It has been observed by others, that this Poet has founded his Tragedy

of _Venice Preserved_ on so wrong a Plot, that the greatest Characters

in it are those of Rebels and Traitors. Had the Hero of his Play

discovered the same good Qualities in the Defence of his Country, that

he showed for its Ruin and Subversion, the Audience could not enough

pity and admire him: But as he is now represented, we can only say of

him what the _Roman_ Historian says of _Catiline_, that his Fall would

have been Glorious (_si pro Patriâ sic concidisset_) had he so fallen in

the Service of his Country.

The Spectator, Volume 1 Eighteenth-Century Periodical Essays · 第 118 / 351 题