It has been obferved by others, that this poet has founded his tragedy of Venice Preferved on fo wrong a plot, that the greatest characters in it are thofe of rebels and traitors. Had the hero of his play difcovered the fame good qualities in the defence of his country, that he fhewed for its ruin and fubverfion, the audience could not enough pity and admire him; but as he is now reprefented, we can only fay of him what the Roman hiftorian fays of Catiline, that his fall would have been glorious (pro Patria fic concidiffet) had he fo fallen in the fervice of his country.

No. XL. MONDAY, APRIL 16.

Ac ne fortè putes, me, quæ facere ipfe recufem,
Cùm rectè tractent alii, laudare malignè;
Ille per extentum funem mihi poffe videtur
Ire Poëta, meum qui pectus inaniter angit,
Irritat, mulcet, falfis terroribus implet,

Ut magus; et modò me Thebis, modò ponit Athenis.

C.

HOR.

IMITATED.

Yet left you think I rally more than teach,
Or praife malignly arts I cannot reach,
Let me for once prefume t'inftruct the times,
To know the poet from the man of rhymes.
'Tis he, who gives my breaft a thousand pains,
Can make me feel each paffion that he feigns;
Enrage, compofe, with more than magic art,
With pity, and with terror, tear my heart;
And fnatch me, o'er the earth, or thro' the air,
To Thebes, to Athens, when will, and where.

POPE.

T HE English writers of tragedy are poffeffed with a notion, that when they reprefent a virtuous or innodent perfon in diftrefs, 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 diftribution 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 fure it has no foundation in nature, in reafon, or in practice of the ancients. We find that good and evil happen alike to all men on this fide the grave; and as the principal defign of tragedy is to raife commiferation and terror in the minds of the audience, we shall defeat this great end, if we always make virtue and innocence happy and fuccefsful. Whatever croffes and difappointments a good man fuffers in the body of the tragedy, they will make but finall impreffion on our minds, when we know that in the laft act he is to arrive at the end of his wishes and defires. When we fee him engaged in the depth of his afflictions, we are apt to comfort ourfelves, because we are fure he will find his way out of them; and that his grief, how great foever it may be at prefent, will foon terminate in gladnefs. For this reafon the ancient writers of tragedy treated men in their plays, as they are dealt with in the world, by making virtue fometimes happy and fometimes miferable, as they found it in the fable which they made choice of, or as it might affect their audience in the most agreeable Ariftotle confiders the tragedies that were written in either of thefe kinds, and obferves, that those which ended unhappily had always pleafed the people, and carried away the prize in the public difputes of the ftage, from thofe that ended happily. Terror and commiferation leave a pleafing anguish in the mind; and fix the audience in fuch a ferious compofure of thought, as is much more lafting and delightful than any little tranfient ftarts of joy and fatisfaction. Accordingly we find, that more of our English tragedies have fucceeded, in which the favourites of the audience fink under their calamities, than thofe in which they recover themfelves out of them. The best plays of this kind are the Orphan, Venice Preferved, Alexander the Great, Theodofius, All for Love, Oedipus, Oroonoko, Othello, &c. King Lear is an admirable tragedy of the fame kind, as Shakespear wrote

manner.

P 2

it;

it; but as it is reformed according to the chimerical notion of poetical juftice, in my humble opinion it has loft half its beauty. At the fame time I must allow, that there are very noble tragedies, which have been framed upon the other plan, and have ended happily; as indeed moft of the good tragedies which have been written fince the starting of the abovementioned criticism, have taken this turn as the Mourning Bride, Tamerlane, Ulysses, Phædra and Hippolitus, with moft of Mr. Dryden's. I muft alfo allow, that many of Shakespear's and several of the celebrated tragedies of antiquity, are caft in the fame form. I do not therefore difpute 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.

The tragi-comedy, which is the product of the Englifh theatre, is one of the moft monftrous inventions that ever entered into a poet's thoughts. An author might as well think of weaving the adventures of Æneas and Hudibras into one poem, as of writing fuch a motly piece of mirth and forrow. But the abfurdity of these performances is so very vifible, that I fhall not infift upon

it.

The fame objections which are made to tragi-comedy, may in fome measure be applied to all tragedies that have a double plot in them; which are likewife more frequent upon the English stage, than upon any other; for though the grief of the audience, in fuch performances, be changed into another paffion, as in tragi-comedies; it is diverted upon another object, which weakens their concern for the principal action, and breaks the tide of forrow, by throwing it into different channels. This inconvenience, however, may in a great measure be cured, if not wholly removed, by the fkilful choice of an underplot, which may bear fuch a near relation to the principal defign, as to contribute towards the completion of it, and be concluded by the fame catastrophe.

There is alfo another particular, which may be reckon. ed among the blemishes, or rather the falfe beauties, of

our

our English tragedy: I mean thofe particular speeches which are commonly known by the name of rants. The warm and paffionate parts of a tragedy are always the moft taking with the audience; for which reafon we often fee the players pronouncing, in all the violence of action, feveral parts of the tragedy which the author writ with great temper, and defigned that they should have been fo acted. I have feen Powell very often raife himself a loud clap by this artifice. The poets that were acquainted with this fecret, have given frequent occafion for fuch emotions in the actor, by adding vehemence to words where there was no paffion, or inflaming a real paffion into fuftian. This hath filled the mouths of our heroes with bombaft; and given them fuch fentiments, as proceed rather from a fwelling than a greatnefs of mind. Unnatural exclamations, curfes, vows, blafphemies, a defiance of mankind, and an outraging of the gods, frequently pafs upon the audience for tow'ring thoughts, and have accordingly met with infinite applaufe.

I fhall here add a remark, which I am afraid our tragic writers may make an ill ufe of. As our heroes are generally lovers, their fwelling and bluftring upon the stage very much recommends them to the fair part of their audience. The ladies are wonderfully pleafed to fee a man infulting kings, or affronting the gods in one fcene, and throwing himfelf at the feet of his miftrefs in another. Let him behave himself infolently towards the men, and abjectly towards the fair one, and it is ten to one but he proves a favourite of the boxes. Dryden and Lee, in feveral of their tragedies, have practifed this fecret with good fuccefs.

But to fhew how a rant pleases beyond the most just and natural thought that is not pronounced with vehemence, I would defire the reader, when he fecs the tragedy of Ocdipus, to obferve how quietly the hero is difmiffed at the end of the third act, after having pronounced the following lines, in which the thought is very natural, and apt to move compaffion;

To you, good gods, I make my last appeal;
Or clear my virtues, or my crimes reveal.
If in the maze of fate I blindly run,

And backward tread thofe paths I fought to fhun;
Impute my errors to your own decree:

My hands are guilty, but my heart is free.

Let us then obferve with what thunder-claps of applause he leaves the ftage, after the impieties and execrations at the end of the fourth act; and you will wonder to fee an audience fo curfed and fo pleafed at the fame time;

O that as oft I have at Athens seen

[Where, by the way, there was no stage till many years after Oedipus.]

The stage arife, and the big clouds descend;

So now, in very deed I might behold

This pond'rous globe, and all yon

marble roof,

Meet, like the hands of Jove, and crush mankind.
For all the elements, &c.

• ADVERTISEMENT.

Having spoken of Mr. Powell, as fometimes raifing himfelf applaufe from the ill taste of an audience; I muft do him the juftice to own, that he is excellently formed for a tragedian, and, when he pleases, deferves the admiration of the beft judges; as I doubt not but he will in the Conqueft of Mexico, which is acted for his own benefit, to-morrow night.'

C.

No. XLI