CHAP. III. ment. required to excite sympathy*. At the very mo- PART II. ment, that our tears are flowing for the sorrows of Belvidera or Callista, we know that we are in a Of Judgtheatre in London, and not either at Venice or Genoa; and that the person, with whose expressions of grief and tenderness we sympathize, is not the wife of Jaffier or Altamont, but of Mr. Siddons. If there was any deception, so that we did, for a moment, suppose the incidents, which excite those expressions, to be real, our feelings would be of a very different, and much less pleasant kind. 12. This is not the case with a fanatical orator or field preacher: his enthusiasm must be thought by his audience to be real and sincere, or it will have no effect: if once they suspect him to be an actor, there is an end of his influence; and, if he is listened to any longer, it is through mere curiosity; when his extravagant rants, being heard without sympathy, are uttered without influence. The matter and expression of his discourse are then canvassed with the same liberty and impartiality, as those of a drama on the stage; and unless there be real sense and argument in the *The Abbé du Bos had before observed that dramatic exhibitions were never meant to be deceptions in any degree; (Reflexions critiques, part i. s. xliii.) but, neverthe less, he continues to argue, in other parts of his work, as if they were. CHAP. III. ment. PART II. one, and energy and perspicuity in the other, he will soon find himself treated with scorn and deOf Judg- rision. As long, however, as he can appear to feel the passions, which he strives to impress, he will seldom fail of impressing them upon the ignorant and credulous; and then it signifies little what he says: merely ringing the changes upon the words sin and repentance, damnation, and redemption, &c. &c. is all that is required to excite the admiration, and win the confidence of the affrighted and astonished rabble *. 13. It was by these means that the club orators in France obtained their influence: the tumultuous assemblies of the populace, which they addressed, were as little capable of understanding, as of uttering reason; but the words liberté, egalité, trahison, vengeance, &c. repeated with a loud voice, strong emphasis, and vehement gesticulation, filled their minds with mysterious hopes, fears, and suspicions; and led them to the commission of all those dreadful excesses, which have disgraced the revolution; and rendered all the wild efforts for universal liberty subservient to the cause of universal despotism. 14. Shakspeare has represented the Roman "Collidere manus, terræ pedem incutere, femur, pectus, frontem cædere, mira ad pullatum circulum facit." QUINTIL. Inst. 1. ii. c. xii. ment, rabble to be just as fickle, as rash, and as sangui- PART. II. nary, as the Parisian: but had he made Mark CHAP. III. Antony speak no better than Robespierre, Dan- Of Judgton, or Hebert, the London audience would have hooted him from the stage, though the Roman might have applauded him in the rostrum*: for the spectators in the theatre sympathize with none of the passions, which agitated those in the forum. They know that the person representing Mark Antony is an actor dressed out for the purpose; and that the events exhibited are entirely fictitious, merely meant to give an appropriate meaning to the speeches uttered; with the energies of sentiment and expression of which they only sympathize †. ter. * From the mountebank tricks which Mark Antony played over the body of Cæsar with so much effect, it is probable that his real style of eloquence was not much betSee Appian. de Bello civili.-Augustus observed that he wrote to be admired rather than understood-" quasi ea scribentem quæ mirentur potius homines quam intelligant." Sueton. in Aug. s. lxxxvi. He has left a numerous tribe of disciples. + Demosthenes being asked what was the first qualifi cation of an orator? answered, Action. What the second? Action. What the third? Action. He had learned, from long and humiliating experience, that the strong sound sense, which distinguishes his orations, though it constitute their principal merit in the closet, contributed but little to their effect in the forum. PART II. 15. It is from knowing and feeling that the CHAP. III. persons, whom we see on the stage, are mere Of Judg- actors and actresses; and not the personages, ment.. whose names and characters they assume, that we cannot suffer the same licence of fiction in dramatic, as in epic poetry. As we see no representation of Ajax or Achilles, while reading or hearing the Iliad, we have no predetermined ideas of what their size and strength might have been; and the mind consequently draws imaginary portraits of them, proportioned to the actions, which it finds attributed to them*: but when these heroes are brought upon the stage, they are instantly reduced to the dimensions of the actors, who personate them; and if they even talk of driving whole armies before them, or sacking cities by the strength of their single arm, "Actio, inquam, in dicendo una dominatur: sine hac summus orator in numero nullo esse potest; mediocris hac instructus summos sæpe superare. Huic primas dedisse Demosthenes dicitur, cum rogaretur quid in dicendo esset primum; huic secundas; huic tertias. sententiæ sæpe acutæ non acutorum hominum sensus prætervolant: actio, quæ pro se motum animi fert, omnes movet." Cic. de Orat. lib. iii. ad fin. * μαλλον δε ενδεχεται εν τη εποποιία το αλογον, δι' ὁ συμβαίνει μαλιστα το θαυμαστον, δια το μη δραν εις τον πραττοντα. ARISTOT. Poetic. s. xliii. we immediately feel the absurdity of it; and the PART II. whole becomes farcical and ridiculous; of which we have a memorable instance in Dryden's Al- Of Judg manzor. 16. Upon this principle, that sort of semblance to truth, which, for distinction's sake, we will call poetical probability, does not arise so much from the resemblance of the fictions to real events, as from the consistence of the language with the sentiments, of the sentiments and actions with the characters, and of the different parts of the fable, with each other: for, if the mind be deeply interested; as it always will be by glowing sentiments and fervid passions happily expressed, and naturally arising out of the circumstances and incidents of a consistent fable, it will never turn aside to any extraneous matter for rules of comparison; but judge of the proba bility of the events merely by their connection with, and dependence upon each other. 17. All change of place; and all progression of time in a drama, beyond that actually employed in the representation of the piece, must be equally violations of truth and probability, if they are any violations of it at all: for whether the change of scene be from one street to another, or from one kingdom to another, there is equally, in the representation, a supposition of that which is CHAP. II. ment. |