THE PREFACE

If I was to speak here of _Aristotle's_ Merit only, the excellence of

his Poetick Art, and the reasons I had to publish it, I need do no more

than refer the Reader to that Work, to shew the disorders into which the

Theatre is long since fallen, and to let him see that as the Injustice

of Men, gave occasion to the making of Laws; so the decay of Arts and

the Faults committed in them, oblig'd first to the making Rules, and the

renewing them. But in order to prevent the Objections of some, who scorn

to be bound to any Rules, only that of their own fancy, I think it

necessary, to prove, not only that Poetry is an Art, but that 'tis known

and its Rules so certainly those which _Aristotle_ gives us, that 'tis

impossible to succeed any other way. This being prov'd, I shall examine

the two Consequences which naturally flow from thence: First, that the

Rules, and what pleases, are never contrary to one another, and that you

can never obtain the latter without the former. Secondly, That Poesie

being an Art can never be prejudicial to Mankind, and that 'twas

invented and improv'd for their advantage only.

To follow this Method, 'tis necessary to trace Poetry from its

Original, to shew that 'twas the Daughter of Religion, that at length

'twas vitiated, and debauch'd, and lastly, brought under the Rules of

Art, which assisted, in Correcting the defaults of Nature.

God touch'd with Compassion for the Misery of Men, who were obliged to

toil and labour, ordain'd Feasts to give them some rest; the offering of

Sacrifices to himself, by way of Thanksgiving, for those Blessings they

had received by his Bounty. This is a Truth which the _Heathens_

themselves acknowledged; they not only imitated these Feasts, but spake

of them as a Gift of the Gods, who having granted a time of Repose,

requir'd some tokens of their grateful remembrance.

The first Feasts of the Ancients were thus, They assembled at certain

times, especially in Autumn, after the gathering in their Fruits, for to

rejoyce, and to offer the choicest of them to God; and this 'tis, which

first gave birth to Poetry: For Men, who are naturally inclined to the

imitation of Musick, employ'd their Talents to sing the praises of the

God they worshipped, and to celebrate his most remarkable Actions.

If they had always kept to that Primitive Simplicity, all the Poesie we

should have had, would have been, only Thanksgivings, Hymns, and Songs,

as amongst the _Jews_. But 'twas very difficult, or rather impossible,

that Wisdom and Purity, should reign long in the _Heathen_ Assemblies;

they soon mingl'd the Praises of Men, with those of their Gods, and came

at last, to the Licentiousness of filling their Poems with biting

Satyrs, which they sung to one another at their drunken Meetings; Thus

Poetry was entirely Corrupted, and the present scarce retains any Mark

of Religion.

The Poets which followed, and who were (properly speaking,) the

Philosophers and Divines of those Times, seeing the desire the People

had for those Feasts, and Shows, and impossibility of retrieving the

first Simplicity; took another way to remedy this Disorder, and making

an advantage of the Peoples Inclinations, gave them Instructions,

disguis'd under the Charmes of Pleasure, as Physicians gild and sweeten

the bitter Pills they administer to their Patients.

I shall not recount all the different Changes, which have happen'd in

Poetry, and by what degrees it has arrived to the Perfection, we now

find it; I have spoken of it already in my _Commentaries_ on _Horace's

Art of Poetry_, and shall say more in explaining, what _Aristotle_

writes in this Treatise.

_Homer_ was the first that invented, or finished, an Epick Poem, for he

found out the Unity of the Subject, the Manners, the Characters, and the

Fable. But this Poem could only affect Customes, and was not moving

enough to Correct the Passions, there wanted a Poem, which by imitating

our Actions, might work in our Spirits a more ready and sensible effect.

'Twas this, which gave occasion for _Tragedy_, and banished all Satyrs,

by this means Poetry was entirely purg'd from all the disorders its

Corruption had brought it into.

This is no proper place to shew, that Men who are quickly weary of

regulated Pleasures, took pains to plunge themselves again into their

former Licentiousness by the invention of _Comedy_. I shall keep my self

to _Tragedy_, which is the most noble Imitation, and principal Subject

of this Treatise, all the Parts of an Epick Poem are comprized in a

_Tragedy_.

However short this account may be, it suffices to let you see that

Poesie is an Art, for since it has a certain End, there must necessarily

be some way to arrive there: No body doubts of this constant Truth, that

in all concerns where you may be in the right, or the wrong, there is an

Art and sure Rules to lead you to the one, and direct you, how to avoid

the other.

The question then is, whether the Rules of this Art are known, and

whether they are those which _Aristotle_ gives us here? This question is

no less doubtful, than the former, I must also confess that this cannot

be determined, but by the unlearned; who because they are the greater

number, I shall make my Examination in their favour. To do this with

some sort of Method, there are four Things to be consider'd, who gives

the Rules, the time when he gives them; the manner in which he gives

them, and the effects they have in divers times wrought on different

People: For I believe from these four Circumstances, I can draw such

Conclusions, that the most obstinate shall not be able to gainsay.

He who gives these Rules, is one of the greatest Philosophers that ever

was, his Genius was large, and of vast extent, the great Discoveries he

made in all Sciences, and particularly in the Knowledge of Man, are

certain Signs, that he had a sufficient insight into our Passions, to

discover the Rules of the Art of Poetry, which is founded on them. But I

shall suspend my Judgment, and pass on to the time in which he gave

these Rules.

I find that he was born in the Age in which _Tragedy_ first appear'd,

for he lived with the Disciples of _AEschylus_, who brought it out of

Confusion; and he had the same Masters with _Sophocles_, and _Euripides_,

who carried it to its utmost Perfection: Besides he was witness of the

Opinion the most nice and knowing People of the World had of this Poem.

'Tis therefore impossible that _Aristotle_ should be ignorant of the

Origine, Progress, Design and Effects of this Art; and consequently even

before I examine these Rules, I am well assur'd upon his account who

gives them, that they have all the Certainty, and Authority, that Rules

can possibly have.

But when I come to examine the Manner in which _Aristotle_ delivers

them, I find them so evident and conformable to Nature, that I cannot

but be sensible they are true; for what does _Aristotle_? He gives not

his Rules as _Legisltors_ do their Laws, without any other reason than

their Wills only; he advances nothing but what is accompanied with

Reason, drawn from the common Sentiment of Mankind, insomuch that the

Men themselves become the Rule and Measure of what he prescribes. Thus

without considering that the Rules are of almost equal Date with the Art

they Teach, or any prejudice, in favour of _Aristotle's_ Name, (for 'tis

the Work which ought to make the Name valued, and not the Name the Work)

I am forced to submit to all his Decisions, the Truth of which I am

convinc'd of in my self, and whose Certainty I discover by Reason and

Experience, which never yet deceiv'd any body.

To this I shall add, the Effects which these Rules have produc'd in all

Ages, on different sort of People, and I see, that as they made the

Beauty of _Homer's Sophocles_, and _Euripides_ Poems in _Greece_,

from which they were drawn; so four or five Hundred Years after, they

adorn'd the Poems of _Virgil_ and other famous Latin Poets, and that now

after Two Thousand Years they make the best _Tragedies_ we have, in

which all that pleases, only does so, as 'tis conformable to these

Rules, (and that too without our being aware of it,) and what is

displeasing, is such, because it is contrary to them, for good Sense,

and right Reason, is of all Countries and Places, the same Subjects

which caus'd so many Tears to be shed in the _Roman_ Theatre, produce

the same Effects in ours, and those Things which gave distaste then, do

the same now, from whence I am convinced, that never any Laws had either

so much Force, Authority, or Might. Humane Laws expire or Change very

often after the Deaths of their Authors, because Circumstances Change,

and the Interests of Men, whom they are made to serve, are different;

but these still take new vigor, because they are the Laws of Nature, who

always acts uniformly, renews them incessantly, and gives them a

perpetual Existence.

I won't pretend nevertheless that the Rules of this Art, are so firmly

established, that 'tis impossible to add any thing to them, for tho'

_Tragedy_ has all its proper Parts, 'tis probable one of those may yet

arrive to greater Perfection. I am perswaded, that tho' we have been

able to add nothing to the Subject, or Means, yet we have added

something to the Manner, as you'l find in the Remarks, and all the new

Discoveries are so far from destroying this Establishment, that they do

nothing more than confirm it; for Nature is never contrary to herself,

and one may apply to the Art of Poetry, what _Hippocrates_ says of

Physick,[17] _Physick is of long standing, hath sure Principles, and a

certain way by which in the Course of many Ages, an Infinity of Things

have been discovered, of which, Experience confirms the Goodness; All

that is wanting, for the perfection of this Art, will without doubt be

found out, by those Ingenious Men, who will search for it, according to

the Instructions and Rules of the Ancients, and endeavour to arrive at

what is unknown, by what is already plain: For whoever shall boast that

he has obtained this Art by rejecting the ways of the Ancients, and

taking a quite different one, deceives others, and is himself deceived;

because that's absolutely impossible._ This Truth extends it self to all

Arts and Sciences, 'tis no difficult matter to find a proper Example in

our Subject, there is no want of _Tragedies_, where the management is

altogether opposite to that of the Ancients. According to the Rules of

_Aristotle_, a _Tragedy_ is the Imitation of an Allegorical and Universal

Action, which by the means of Terror, and Compassion, moderates and

corrects our Inclinations. But according to these new _Tragedies_ 'tis

an imitation of some particular Action, which affects no body, and is

only invented to amuse the Spectators, by the Plot, and unravelling a

vain Intrigue, which tends only to excite and satisfie their Curiosity,

and stir up their Passions, instead of rend'ring them calm and quiet.

This is not only not the same Art, but can be none at all, since it

tends to no good, and 'tis a pure Lye without any mixture of Truth; what

advantage can be drawn from this Falshood? In a word, 'tis not a Fable,

and by consequence, is in no wise a_ Tragedy_, for a _Tragedy_ cannot

subsist without a Fable,[18] as you will see elsewhere.

We come now to the first Consequence, which we draw, from what we have

Establish'd, and shall endeavour to prove, that our Laws, and what

pleases, can never be opposite, since the Rules were made only for what

pleases, and tend only to show the way you must walk in, to do so. By

this we shall destroy the false Maxim, That, _all that pleases is good_,

and assert that we ought on the contrary to say, That, _all that is good

pleases, or ought to please_. For the goodness of any Work whatsoever,

does not proceed from this, that it gives us pleasure, but the pleasure

that we have proceeds from its goodness, unless our deluded Eyes and

corrupt Imaginations mislead us, for that which causes our mistakes, is

not, where is, but what is not.

If the Rules, and what pleased, were things opposite, you would never

arrive at the giving pleasure, but by meer chance, which is absurd:

There must for that reason be a certain way, which leads thither, and

that way is the Rule which we ought to learn; but what is that Rule?

'Tis a Precept, which being drawn from the _Pleasant_ and _Profitable_,

leads us to their source. Now what is the _Pleasant_ and _Profitable_?

'Tis that which pleases naturally, in all Arts 'tis this we consult,

'tis the most sure and perfect Model we can Imitate; in it we find

perfect Unity and Order, for it self is Order, or to speak more

properly, the effect of Order, and the Rule which conducts us thither;

there is but one way to find Order, but a great many to fall into

Confusion.

There would be nothing bad in the World, if all that pleas'd were good;

for there is nothing so ridiculous, but what will have its Admirers. You

may say indeed, 'tis no truer, that what is good pleases, because we see

ev'ry day Disputes about the Good and Pleasant, that the same Thing

pleases some, and displeases others; nay, it pleases and displeases the

very same Persons at different times: from whence then proceeds this

difference? It comes either from an absolute Ignorance of the Rule, or

that the Passions alter it. Rightly to clear this Truth, I believe I may

lay down this Maxim, that all sensible Objects are of two sorts; some

may be judged of, by Sense independantly from Reason. I can Sense that

Impression which the animal Spirits make on the Soul, others can't be

judged of but by Reason exercised in Science, Things simply agreeable,

or disagreeable, are of the first Sort, all the World may judge alike of

these, for example the most Ignorant in Musick, perceives very well,

when a Player on the Lute strikes one String for another, because he

judges by his Sense, and that Sense is the Rule; in such occasions, we

may therefore very well say, that all that pleases is good, because that

which is Good doth please, or that which is Evil never fails to

displease; for neither the Passions, nor Ignorance dull the Senses, on

the contrary they sharpen them. 'Tis not so in Things which spring from

Reason; Passion and Ignorance act very strongly on it, and oftentimes

choak it, this is the Reason, why we ordinarily judge so ill, and

differently concerning those Things, of which, that is the Rule and the

Cause. Why, what is Bad often pleases, and that which is Good doth not

always so, 'tis not the fault of the Object, 'tis the fault of him who

judges; but what is Good will infallibly please those who can judge,

and that's sufficient. By this we may see, that a Play, that shall bring

those Things which are to be judg'd of by Reason, within the Rules, as

also what is to be judg'd of by the Sense, shall never fail to please,

for it will please both the Learned, and Ignorant: Now this Conformity

of suffrages is the most sure,[19] or according to _Aristotle_ the only

Mark of the Good, and Pleasant, as he proves in the following part of

his Discourse. Now these Suffrages are not obtained, but by the

observation of the Rules, and consequently, these Rules are the only

Cause of the Good, and Pleasant, whether they are follow'd Methodically

and with Design, or by Hazard only; for 'tis certain, there are many

Persons who are entirely Ignorant of these Rules, and yet don't fail to

succeed in several Affairs: This is far from destroying the Rules, and

serves to shew their Beauty, and proves how far they are conformable to

Nature, since those often follow them, who know nothing of 'em. In the

Remarks you shall find many Examples of the vast difference, the

observance or neglect of the Rules make in the same Subject, and by that

be throughly convinc'd that they are the two only Causes of Good, or Bad

Works, and that there can never be any occasion, where the perfect

Harmony which is between the Rules, and what pleases, shou'd be broken.

'Tis true to come to the last Consequence, that Poetry is an Art,

invented for the Instruction of Mankind, and consequently must be

profitable: 'Tis a general Truth that ev'ry Art is a good Thing, because

there is none whose End is not Good: But, as it is not less true, that

Men ordinarily abuse the best Things, that which was design'd for an

wholsome Remedy, may in time become a very dangerous Poison. I declare

then that I don't speak of corrupted _Tragedy_, for 'tis not in vitious

and depraved Works, that we must look for Reason, and the intent of

Nature, but in those which are sound and perfect; I speak of Ancient

_Tragedy_, that which is conform to _Aristotle's_ Rules, and I dare say,

'tis the most profitable, and necessary of all Diversions.

If 'twas possible to oblige Men to follow the Precepts of the Gospel,

nothing could be more happy, they would find there true Peace, solid

Pleasure, and a Remedy for all their Infirmities, and would look on

_Tragedy_ as useless and below them. How could they do otherwise than

have this opinion? since those _Pagans_ who apply'd themselves to the

Study of Wisdome, consider'd it with the same Genius. They themselves

own, that could the People be always brought up in the solid Truths of

Philosophy, the Philosophers need have no recourse to Fables, to give

their Instructions: But as so much Corruption was inconsistent with such

Wisdom, they were forc'd to seek for a Remedy to the Disorders of their

Pleasures; they then invented _Tragedy_, and inspir'd them with it, not

as the best Employment Men could take up, but as a means, which was able

to correct the excess, into which they plung'd themselves at their

Feasts, and to render those amusements profitable, which Custom and

their Infirmities had made necessary, and their Corruption very

dangerous.

Men are the same now, they were then, they have the same Passions, and

run with the same Eagerness after Pleasures. To endeavour to reclaim

them from that State, by the severity of Precepts, is attempting to put

a Bridle on an unruly Horse in the middle of his carrier, in the

mean while, there is no Medium, they run into the most criminal excess,

unless you afford them regular and sober Pleasures. 'Tis a great

Happiness that their remaining Reason inclines them to love Diversions,

where there is Order, and Shows, where Truth is to be found, and I am

perswaded, that Charity obliges us, to take advantage of this, and not

to allow too much time for Debauches, which would extinguish that Spark

of Reason, which yet shines in them. Those People are distemper'd, and

_Tragedy_ is all the Remedy they are capable of receiving any advantage

from; for it is the only Recreation in which they can find the agreeable

and Profitable.

_Tragedy_ does not only represent the Punishments, which voluntary Crimes

always draw on their Authors, these are too common, and well known

Truths, and leave too much liberty to our Passions; this is the meanest

sort of _Tragedy_: But it sets forth the misfortunes which even in

voluntary Crimes, and those committed by Imprudence, draw on such as we

are, and this is perfect _Tragedy_. It instructs us to stand on our

guard, to refine and moderate our Passions, which alone occasion'd the

loss of those unfortunate ones. Thus the aspiring may learn to give

bounds to his Ambition; the Prophane to fear God; the Malicious to

forget his Wrongs; the Passionate to restrain his Anger; the Tyrant to

forsake his Violence and Injustice, _&c._ Those idle and infirm Men, who

are not able to bear the Yoak of Religion, and have need of a grosser

sort of Instruction, which falls under the Senses, can never have more

profitable amusements; 'twere to be wish'd, that they would renounce all

other Pleasures, and love this only. If any shall now condemn _Tragedy_,

he must also condemn the use of Fables, which the most Holy Men have

employ'd, and God himself has vouchsaf't to make use of: For _Tragedy_

is only a Fable, and was invented as a Fable, to form the Manners, by

Instructions, disguis'd under the Allegory of an Action. He must also

condemn History; for History is much less Grave and Moral than Fable,

insomuch as 'tis particular, when a Fable is more general, and

universal, and by consequence more profitable.

We may say too, that the only Aim of true Politicks, is to procure to

the People Virtue, Peace and Pleasure, this Design cannot be contrary to

Religion, because we chuse none of those Pleasures which destroy Virtue,

or Peace. _Tragedy_ is far from it, and endeavours only their

preservation; for 'tis the only Pleasure, which disposes Men to endure

their Passions, to a perfect Mediocrity, which contributes more to the

maintaining of Peace, and acquisition of Virtue, than any thing else; I

also believe that from this Truth, we might draw a sure Rule to judge of

those Pleasures which might be permitted, and those which ought to be

forbidden.

You may say, _Tragedy_ is dangerous, by reason of the abuses which

creep into it. Every Thing is dangerous, and may be condemn'd at this

rate, for there is nothing so excellent where Abuses may not be

committed, and of which a bad, or good use may not be made. We must

remember this Truth, that all Arts and Sciences, by the Ignorance and

Corruption of Men, ordinarily produce false Arts, and false Sciences;

but these false Arts and false Sciences, are more opposite to what they

Counterfeit than any thing besides; for there is nothing more opposite

to what is good, than what is bad in the same Kind. If that which is

false, engages us to condemn what is true, it has gain'd its point,

that's what it would have, and having thus Triumph'd over Truth, soon

puts its self into its place, than which nothing can be more

Pernicious.

Since _Tragedy_ has no defect, but what is external, it follows from

thence, that 'tis good in its self, and consequently profitable; this

cannot be contested, and those who condemn it, condemn, not only the

most noble Diversion, but the most capable to raise the Courage, and

form the Genius, and the only one, which can refine the Passions, and

touch the most vicious and obdurate Souls. I could give many examples;

but shall content my self with relating the Story of _Alexander_ of[20]

_Pherea_: This barbarous Man, having order'd the _Hecuba_ of _Euripides_

to be Acted before him, found himself so affected, that he went out

before the end of the first Act, saying, _That he was asham'd to be seen

to weep, at the Misfortunes of_ Hecuba _and_ Polyxena, _when he daily

imbrud his Hands in the Blood of his Citizens_; he was affraid that his

Heart should be truly mollify'd, that the Spirit of Tyranny would now

leave the possession of his Breast, and that he should come a private

person out of that Theatre into which he enter'd Master. The Actor who

so sensibly touch'd him, difficultly escaped with his Life, but was

secur'd by some remains of that pity, which was the cause of his Crime.

A very grave Historian, makes reflection much to this purpose, and

which seems to me no indifferent one in Politicks; in speaking of the

People of _Arcadia_, he says, _That their Humanity, sweetness of Temper,

respect for Religion, in a word, the Purity of their Manners, and all

their Virtues proceeded chiefly from the Love they had to Musick, which

by its Melody, corrected those ill Impressions, a thick and unwholesome

Air, joyn'd to a hard, and laborious way of living, made on their Bodies

and Minds._ He says on the contrary, _That the_ Cynethians _fell into

all sorts of Crimes and Impieties, because they despised the wise

Institutions of their Ancestors; and neglected this Art, which was so

much the more necessary for them, as they liv'd in the coldest and worst

place of_ Arcadia: _There was scarcely any City in_ Greece, _where

wickedness was so great and frequent as here_. If _Polybius_ speaks thus

of Musick, and accuses _Ephorus_, for having spoken a thing unworthy of

himself, when he said, _That 'twas invented to deceive Mankind_: what

ought we then to say of _Tragedy_, of which Musick is only a small part;

and which is as much above it, as a Word is above an inarticulate Sound,

which signifies nothing.

This is what, according to my Opinion, may be truly said of _Tragedy_,

and the Mean we ought to keep. But to the end this may be justly said,

the Parts must conform themselves entirely to the Rules of Ancient

_Tragedy_, that is to say, which endeavours rather to Instruct than

Please, and regard the Agreeable, as a means only to make the Profitable

more taking; they must paint the Disorders of the Passions, and the

inevitable Mischiefs which arise from thence. 'Twas for this the _Greek

Tragedians_ were so much Honour'd in their own Age, and esteemed in

those which follow'd. Their Theatre was a School, where Virtue was

generally better Taught, than in the Schools of their Philosophers, and

at this very Day, the reading their Pieces will Inspire an Hatred to

Vice, and a Love to Virtue. To Imitate them profitably, we should

re-establish the _Chorus_, which establishing the _veri-Similitude_ of

the _Tragedy_, gives an Opportunity to set forth to the People, those

particular Sentiments, you would inspire them with, and to let them

know, what is Vicious or Laudable, in the Characters which are

Introduc'd. _Mr. Racine_ saw the necessity of this, and cannot be

sufficiently praised, for having brought it, into his two last Pieces,

which have happily reconcil'd _Tragedy_ to its greatest Enemies. Those

who have seen the effects of these _Chorus's_, cannot but be sensible of

their Advantage, and by Consequence, must Consent to what I say in my

Remarks. After Examples, and Authorities of this Nature, I have no

Reason to fear my Arguments. But enough of this Matter, tis time to come

to what respects my self, and to give some Account of this Work.

I have endeavour'd to make the Translation as literal as possible,

being perswaded, that I could not do better, than to stick close to the

Words of a Man, who wrote with wonderful Exactness, and puts in nothing,

but what is to the purpose. I have nevertheless taken the Liberty

sometimes, to enlarge his Thoughts, for what was understood in his time,

by half a Word, would hardly be Intelligible now, unless some Pains was

taken to explain it.

A simple Translation of _Aristotle_, would be clear enough, and there

would be no need of Commentaries, if we were well Instructed in those

Poets, from whom he takes his Rules, but as almost all the World is

Ignorant of them, and 'tis necessary to explain by Example, what is

Obscure in the Rule. This is what I have endeavour'd to do in my

Remarks, which will seem short, if you consider the many large Volumes

which have been wrote on this little Treatise.

Of all the _Latin_ Commentators, _Victorius_ seems to me the most Wise,

Knowing, and Exact, but his Assistance is not sufficient, to give us an

Understanding of Poesie. The _Italian Castelvetro_, has a great deal of

Wit, and Knowledge, if we may call that Wit, which is only Fancy, and

bestow on much Reading the name of Knowledge. If we recollect all the

Qualities of a good Interpreter, we shall have an Idea just contrary to

that of _Castelvetro_. He knew neither the Theatre, the Passions, nor the

Characters; he understood neither _Aristotle's_ Reasons, nor his Method,

and strove rather to contradict, than explain him. On the other hand, he

is so Infatuated with the Author's of his own Country, that he forgot

how to Criticise well; he talks without Measure, like _Homer's

Thersites_, and declares War to all that is fine. Indeed he has some

good things, but 'tis not worth while to spend our time in looking after

them. The _French_ Art of Poetry by _Mesnardiere_, may pass for a

Commentary on some Chapters of _Aristotle_, but that Work is of little

value; for besides that Author's being no good Critick, and perpetually

deceiv'd, he did not penetrate into the Meaning of the Philosopher. The

Practice of the Theatre by the Abbot _D'Aubignac_, is infinitely better,

but is rather a Sequel and Supplement, than an Explication of

_Aristotle_; on which, a perfect Instruction in the Ancient Rules, will

enable you to pass a Judgment. The Treatise of Epick Poem by Father

_Bossu_, is above all the Moderns have done in that Kind, and is the best

Commentary Extant, on what _Aristotle_ has wrote concerning that sort of

Poem; none ever penetrated deeper into the bottom of that Art, and set

in a better Light (according to _Aristotle's_ Rules) _Homer's_, and

_Virgil's_ Beauties, or the Solidity, and Beauty of _Aristotle's_ Rules,

by the marvellous Conduct of those two great Poets. If he had Treated

of _Tragedy_, as throughly, as he has done of the _Epopoeia_, he had

left almost nothing for me to have done after him; but unfortunately, he

omitted the most difficult, which he could have Explain'd much better

than my self, had he had spare time. His Work however has done me great

Service. I have profited by the good, which others have Wrote, and must

confess, that their Faults have been useful to me. But after all, the

most excellent Commentators on the Poetick Art, are the Ancient Poems,

and as they gave the hint to make Rules, 'tis by them, that these ought

to be Explain'd. I hope, I have not followed such good Guides in vain.

If I have wander'd, by following them, without a true Understanding, I

should be very well pleased to be put in the right way, by any, who

would advise me of my Faults, or make them publickly known.

Perhaps some may Reproach me, as Mr. _Corneille_ did all the precedent

Commentators. _They have Explain'd_ Aristotle (says that great Man)

_as Grammarians, or Philosophers, and not as Poets; because they had more

of the Study, and Speculation, than Experience of the Theatre. The

Reading them may make us more Learned, but can give us no further

Insight, how we may succeed._ This Reproach is founded on this general

Maxim, _That every one ought to be believ'd in his own Art._ It seems

then, that those should not pretend to explain the Rules of Poesie, who

never yet made Poems. The Principle is true, but the Consequence is not

so, for before that is drawn, we must see to whom the Art of Poetry, and

what it produc'd, does property belong. 'Tis not Poesie it self which is

produced, for then it would have been, before it was. 'Tis Philosophy

that brought it first into play, and consequently, it belongs to

Philosophy, to give, and explain its Rules. This is so true, that

_Aristotle_ made not these Rules as a Poet, but as a Philosopher: And if

he made them as such, why may they not be explain'd that way too? And as

it was not necessary to make _Dramatick_ Poems, to give Rules to that

Art, so 'tis no more necessary that they should be made, to Explain

those Rules.

I don't know indeed, whether he who has made Pieces for the Theatre, is

so proper to explain the Rules of this Art, as he that never did, for

'twould be a Miracle if one was not biass'd by self-Love, when the other

is a dis-interested Judge, who has no other Aim, than discovering the

Truth, and making it known. Mr. _Corneille_ himself may be an Example of

this. All that he would Establish in his new Discourse of _Dramatick

Poetry_, is less founded on Nature, than his own proper Interest. It

appears by his own Words, that the design he had of defending what he

had ventured on the Stage, obliged him to forsake _Aristotle's_ Rules,

and to Establish new ones, which should be more favourable to himself;

we shall see in the Remarks, whether they can bear the Test. 'Tis

therefore no ways necessary to have made Poems, to prescribe Rules for

Poesie, and yet much less to explain them. If it was so, I would say

there were none, for of all those which have given any, I knew but one

that was a Poet; _Horace_ himself never made an Epick Poem or a Tragedy,

but to prescribe Rules for Poesie, as also to explain them; it is

sufficient to know the Origine, and Scope of the Art Treated of; to have

examin'd those Poems, which are the Basis and Foundation, to have made

Reflections on what is agreeable, and disagreeable, and rightly to

discover the Causes; this is the only necessary Knowledge I have

endeavour'd to acquire, and Philosophy alone can lead me thither.

I shall add once more, that if we make a Man more Learned, by

explaining the Rules as a Philosopher, 'tis Impossible, but he must

attain a surer Knowledge, to succeed in this Art. 'Tis true, we can't

give a _Genius_, that's not done by Art, but we can shew the Path a

_Genius_ ought to Tread in, and that is the only Design of all Rules.

I have not made the Apology of Commentators, to praise my self, for

although I am no Poet, it does not follow that I cannot be a good

Philosopher; I leave it to the Publick, and time, to Judge of my Work,

for I will neither Court, nor slight their Favours.

I have spoken very freely, in what I have pass'd my Judgment on, and in

so doing, Imitated the ancient Criticks, who spared neither

_Demosthenes_, nor _Thucidides_, nor _Plato_, nor any that was Great, or

Venerable in Antiquity. A flattering Criticism would be a pleasant sort

of one, when we should seek to Applaud, and the Respect due to the Name,

should check the Censure due to the Fault. I am not so scrupulous, and

if any one be offended, I shall Answer him as _Dionysius Halicarnassaeus_

answered _Pompey_ the Great, who wrote to him, to complain, that he had

tax'd _Plato_ with some Faults. _The Veneration you have for_ Plato _is

Just_, (says that excellent Critick,) _but the Blame you lay on me, is

not so. When any one writes on a Subject, to shew what is Good or Bad in

it, he ought to discover, and mark very exactly all its Virtues, and

Vices, for that is a sure way to find out the Truth, which is more

valuable than all things else whatever. If I had written against_ Plato

_with a Design to Decry his Works, I should be as Impious as_[21]

Zoilus, _but on the contrary, I would praise him, and if in doing so I

have Improved any of his Defects, I have done nothing worthy of

Complaint, and which was not necessary for my Design._ Notwithstanding

this, I have put some Bounds to this Liberty, and if I have discovered

some Faults, I have conceal'd some others, that seem'd to me not so

considerable. I had respect in them, to the Approbation of many Persons

of Merit, for I would not run Counter to an almost Universal Consent,

which always is of great Weight, and ought at least to oblige us to be

cautious. But that I might give to those Persons, an Opportunity of

recollecting themselves, I have endeavoured to explain the Rule, in such

a manner, that they may perceive those very Faults, if they will Read

the Remarks with attention. As for the rest, I had no design to offend

any Body; if there are some things which make them uneasie, 'tis

impossible to write any Work of this nature, without disgusting some.

'Tis also the Mark of good Criticism, as well as good Philosophy. From

hence it proceeded, that _Plato_ was blamed for having taught his

Philosophy a long time, without displeasing any one Person; and they

pretended by that, to say that either his Doctrine was not good, or his

Method defective, since none had by Hearing him been made sensible of

that Uneasiness, which People naturally have, when they perceive

themselves to be Vitious.

It would be unjust to finish this Preface, without saying something of

_Aristotle's_ Life, that those who read his Work, may know something of

him. He was the Son of _Nicomachus_, Physician of[22] _Amyntas_, and

descended from _Esculapius_. His Mother was the Daughter of one of the

Descendants of those, who Transplanted a Colony, from _Chalcis_ to

_Stagira_, in _Macedonia_; that is to say, she was of Noble Extraction,

on both sides. He was born at _Stagira_, about four Hundred Years,

before our Saviour. At Eighteen Years of Age, he went to _Athens_, and

abode with _Plato_, he pass'd twenty Years in his School, and when his

Master was dead, he went to _Hermeas_ the Tyrant of _Atarna_, a City of

_Mysia_; he went from thence to _Mytelene_, from whence he was call'd by

_Philip_, to be his Son _Alexander's_ Tutor; he was eight Years, with

that Young Prince, and after _Philip's_ Death, returned to _Athens_,

where he Taught, in the _Lyceum_ twelve Years, till the Death of

_Alexander_. For _Antipater_ having carried the War into _Greece,

Aristotle_, who fancied, the _Athenians_ suspected him, by reason of the

strict Friendship, which was between him, and the Viceroy of _Macedonia_,

retir'd to _Calchis_, where he died soon after, by a Fit of Sickness in

the sixty third Year of his Age. He left one Son, and one Daughter, both

Young, and made _Antipater_ Executor of his Will, and Administrator of

all his Goods, which were very considerable, if we may judge of them by

_Alexander's_ Liberality, who gave him eight Hundred Talents, for his

History of Animals, that is according to the lesser Talent, one hundred

and forty Thousand Pounds Sterling, or according to the greater, one

Hundred eighty six Thousand, six Hundred, sixty five Pounds, thirteen

Shillings and four Pence. The most precious of his Moveables was his

Library, which was afterwards Sold to _Ptolomy Philadelphus_, and which

he had Enrich'd with four Hundred Volumes, of his own making. In those

of his Writings which now remain, and are happily a considerable Number,

we find a very discerning Spirit, a solid Judgment, a wonderful Method,

prodigious Knowledge, and an Eloquence both strong and sweet. He himself

found out more, than the most Knowing now, learn with a great deal of

Labour and Pains, and as for those things which depended on the Vivacity

of the Spirit, no Man ever carried his Knowledge further, or Establish'd

more sure, or extensive Principles. In Dialecticks, Logick, Rhetorick,

Politicks, and Morality, we have little but what he taught us.

By making a proper use of his Informations, there have appear'd Works

in some of these Sciences, preferable to his, but his Rhetorick is the

most Preferable we as yet have. His Art of Poetry is more to be admir'd,

for in his Rhetorick, he made use of the Precepts of those, who Wrote

before him. But he is the first that discovered the Grounds, and Secrets

of Poesie, and none since have undertaken to Write, but in Explication

of his Thoughts, which have serv'd, and will always serve as the Rule.

He alone has Reviv'd _Tragedy_ more than once.

In effect after it was brought to its Perfection, under the Reign of

_Alexander_, the Son of _Amyntas_, under the Reigns of _Perdiccas_, and

_Archelaus_, and degenerated in those which follow'd, but under that of

_Philip_, and _Alexander_, the Poets being Encourag'd by those Glorious

Princes, and guided by _Aristotle's_ Genius, made it flourish as before.

After the Death of _Alexander_, it began to Languish, and never

recover'd its entire Strength till the Reign of _Augustus_, in which the

Rules of this Philosopher were Reviv'd.

Since the _Death of Augustus_, it has grown Feeble, for more than

sixteen Hundred Years, till in this last Age 'twas recover'd out of its

long Decay, by Mr. _Corneille_, and Mr. _Racine_, who upheld themselves

by _Aristotle's_ Rules. So true is it, that Time is the Faithful

Guardian, not only of Great Men, as _Pindar_ saith, but also of the

Liberal Arts, which it revives as occasion offers, and always, under the

greatest Princes. For what a good Soil and Air, are to Seeds and Fruits,

such is the Glory, Grandeur, Magnificence, and Liberality of Princes,

to Arts, and Sciences, which do not so much flourish under them, as by

them; and we may very properly apply to this Subject the fallowing Verse

of _Agathon_.

Art favours Fortune, Fortune favours Art.

If _Tragedy_ shall some time hence suffer any sort of Eclipse, 'twill

be by the Laziness, and Haste of those Poets, who Write without being

rightly Instructed. _Plato_ in his _Phedrus_ Introduces a young Poet

seeking _Sophocles_ and _Euripides_, and Accosting them thus. _I can

make Verses tolerably well; and I know how in my Descriptions to extend

a mean Subject, and Contract a great one: I know how to excite Terror,

and Compassion, and to make pitiful things appear Dreadful and Menacing.

I will therefore go, and write_ Tragedies. Sophocles _and_ Euripides

answer'd him, _Don't go so fast_, Tragedy _is not what you take it to

be; 'tis a Body, composed of many different, and well-suited Parts, of

which you will make a Monster, unless you know how to adjust them; you

may know what is to be learn'd, before the Study of the Art of Tragedy;

but you don't yet know that Art._

If there are Poets now, which don't know so much as the Young Man, of

whom _Plato_ speaks, these Rules can be of no Advantage to them; but

those who are like him, and in the same Circumstances, need only keep to

these Rules, which will teach them what they are Ignorant of, and the

fourth time restore _Tragedy_ to its first Lustre and Brightness. This

is the most profitable Present, can be made them, if by Meditation and

Practice they will endeavour to make a right use of it; for Precepts

alone are not sufficient to make us Learned, the Advantage, and Profit

of any Rules, depend on our Labour and Pains. If these Rules are not for

them, they will be against them, and their Works shall be Judg'd by

them.

Footnotes:

[17] In his Treatise of Ancient Physick.

[18] Chap. 18. _Rem._ 8. _&c._

[19] _Chap._ 13. Rem. 25.

[20] A Town in _Thessaly_.

[21] Called Impious, because he writ against _Homer_.

[22] Grandfather to _Alexander_ the Great.

The Preface to Aristotle's Art of Poetry · 第 10 / 14 题