In discoursing upon the Drama in general, I have already mention'd the Origin of Tragedy. The Word is deriv'd from t?a???, a Goat, and ?d?, a Song: because a Goat was the Reward propos'd to the Competitors in this Art; as Horace has plainly intimated:

For they deserve no Regard, who would derive t?a??d?a, as if it were t?????a, from t???, the Lees of wine; because the Actors, before Æschylus invented the Use of Masks, discolour'd their Faces with Wine Lees. This Etymology is harsh, and unnatural[422]; the other is easy, and agreeable to the Rules of Analogy, without changing so much as one Letter, as the other does.[423] Their Opinion, who think it was call'd t?a??d?a, as if it were t?a?e?a ?d?, a rough Song; has still less Countenance from the Analogy of that Language, or the Nature of the Poem. But it is not worth While to dwell upon these Trifles.

Aristotle, whose Discourse on Poetry is employ'd chiefly on this Subject, defines Tragedy in this Manner,[424]

?st?? ??? t?a??d?a ??s?? p?a?e?? sp??da?a?, ?a? te?e?a?, e?e??? e???s??, ?d?se?? ????, ????? e?ast?? t?? e?d?? e? t??? ?? ???? d???t??, ?a ?? d?' epa??e??a?, a??a d?' e?e???, ?a? f???, pe?a????sa t?? t?? t????t?? pa??at?? ?a?a?s??.

Tragedy is the Imitation of a serious, entire, and important Action, in an agreeable Style, the different Sorts of which Style must be regularly varied in the several Parts; and not by Narration, but by the Means of Terror and Pity purging the like Passions in us.

All I would observe of this Definition, at present, is, that there are two Parts of it which want some Explication. The first is, ????? e?ast?? t?? e?d?? e? t??? ?????? d???t??; that is, says[425]Vossius, "That the several Sorts of Style should not be mix'd together, but brought in separately in their several Parts. For Aristotle adds, immediately after, Some Parts are perform'd in Metre only, some with Music[426]. "This Clause, therefore, of the Definition, can belong only to the ancient Tragedy, and not to our modern, which is entirely without a Chorus. The other Difficulty is, in ?? d? epa???e??a?. Vossius and Dacier are both of Opinion, that this Part of the Definition was added for no other Reason, but to distinguish Tragedy from Epic Poetry, which is form'd, not upon Action, but Narration. But still there is a Doubt left, which neither of them attempt to clear up: Must we, therefore, exclude all Sort of Narration from Tragedy? Has not Horace, and all the Poets and Critics after him, made a proper Distinction between Things represented and related in the Drama?

The Answer to which Question, I think, is this; That there is undoubtedly a Dramatic Narration, but always related by some Persons in the Play, not by the Poet himself, as in Epic Poetry; and this latter Sort of Narration is what Aristotle meant in the Definition before us. There is no Occasion to explain the several Parts of it any further, since Vossius has express'd the Substance more clearly, and fully, in the following Definition.[428] Tragedy is a Dramatic Poem, imitating some great, but unfortunate Event, in a grave and majestic Style: To which, says he, if you please, you may add, to raise the Passions, and purge the Mind from them. All this is intelligible, and to the Point: But I wonder this learned Writer should think the last Clause rather not impertinent, than essential, by that negligent Introduction, that you may add it if you please; which, as Dacier observes with great Judgment, is much the best Part of Aristotle's Definition, and deserves, of all others, to be most accurately explain'd. He should also (as Aristotle has done) have particularly mention'd the two prevailing Passions of Pity and Terror, which are the proper Objects of Tragedy, and chiefly affected by it: And further, in Imitation of the same great Author, the Beauties of the Style should not have been intirely forgot. I shall therefore, from these two Definitions, endeavour to form a third, much clearer than Aristotle's, and more compleat than Vossius's. Tragedy is a Dramatic Poem, imitating some great, but unfortunate Event, in a grave, majestic, and entertaining Style, to raise the Passions, especially those of Pity and Terror, and to purge the Mind of them.

This Definition, expresly, or by Implication, contains these several Parts; the Argument, or the Subject Matter, the Sentiments, the Language and Versification, the Characters and Manners, and, lastly, the Moral, or the propos'd Effect. All which agree in this, that they ought to be great and sublime; for with Regard to all these, Tragedy is the noblest Kind of Poetry, except one.

The Subject is always some serious and important Event, as the Expulsion of a Tyrant, the Death of a Hero, and the like; which Event turns, and depends intirely upon some violent Passion, either good or bad; as Ambition, Revenge, Friendship, and especially Love, (for Love, as I have before observ'd, is the chief Subject of the modern Drama, whether Tragedy, or Comedy;) or else upon the divine Justice, which gives either to Virtue, or Vice, or to both at once, their proper Retributions. It is likewise necessary, that the Manners, the Thoughts, the Language, (for these are so nearly allied, that they are much better consider'd jointly, than separately) should be grave, sublime, and magnificent. Hence Horace, in his Art of Poetry, after laying down Rules for the Style of Comedy,

goes on thus,

And again:

And Ovid:

I am entirely of[432]Vossius's Opinion, who says, "that Tragedy is nearly allied to Epic Poetry, nay, often superior to it, in the Choice of Words, and Majesty of Expression." Which makes Horace say of it,

Not that all the Persons in Tragedy are suppos'd to speak with equal Dignity, which is as inconsistent with the Nature of Things, as of Men; nor should the Language of a Messenger, or a Nurse, be as sublime as that of a Monarch, or a Deity: Tho' great Care ought to be taken, that nothing mean or trifling appear in these lower Characters, much less like Joke or Repartee, (a Fault which modern Writers, especially those of our own Country, are shamefully guilty of) lest Tragedy should sink below itself. A judicious Tragic Poet will be less concern'd at the Hiss, than the Laugh of an Audience.

Nor should the highest Characters talk always with equal Majesty, for that is as great an Absurdity; much less should they fall into Expressions of Low Life, improper for Tragedy, even when they are talking about Things of no Moment: For even in them there is a Sort of Dignity, inseparable from Kings and Heroes. Mr. Dryden, therefore, has well observ'd, that in Seneca's Hippolytus the Poet very judiciously makes Theseus order his Servants to open the Door (a very familiar Circumstance) in pompous Words:

In expressing Grief, when void of Anger, (for Anger is insolent in all Circumstances, and in great Men always swelling) the Style of Tragedy abates something of its Majesty, and descends almost into the Ease and Freedom, not of Comedy, (as[435] Vossius, less accurately, expresses it) but of familiar Conversation. "Especially if Heroes are introduc'd fallen from the Height of Fortune; whose Spirits are less rais'd, and their Language, of Course, is less tragical." As Anger, therefore, raises the Style of Comedy; Sorrow sinks that of Tragedy: Both which Horace observes, in these Words:

The Reason of which is too plain, to want Explication. By Sermo pedestris, the Poet means a more familiar Style, but without Meanness; not quite degenerating into Prose, much less into what is vulgar, rude, or scurrilous: Tho' plain, it should be elegant; tho' humble, and complaining, yet graceful, and truly poetical. The Thoughts may, and often ought to be great, even when the Language is far otherwise. For there is a Sort of majestic and heroical Humility; and tho' Kings and Queens don't express their Grief in pompous and sonorous Words, yet there is some Difference betwixt theirs, and vulgar Sorrows. There is the same Distinction of Style, as in the Habit of Mourners. The Monarch may exchange his Purple for Sable, yet, in his Behaviour, in his Looks, there is such a Reserve of Majesty, as will easily distinguish him from a private Person in the same Attire.

As we observ'd elsewhere, there were two Sorts of Satire, the one of a lower Kind, and less confin'd; the other of a graver and severer Turn, and more sublime: So the former is suited to Comedy, the latter to Tragedy: For it is the Business of the one to ridicule the Follies of Mankind, and of the other to lash Vices, and Crimes of a deeper Dye. Hence Juvenal, a Writer of the sublimer Kind of Satire, seems to propose the Tragic Style for his Imitation.

Nor is it less the Province of Tragedy to improve Virtue, than correct, and expose Vice; Virtue, I say, and that heroic too: For Tragedy is a Sort of heroic Drama; no Kind of Poetry is more sacred; none, to which the noblest and best Sentiments are so suitable; none, in which more exalted Precepts of Virtue are, or, at least, may be deliver'd.

Tragedy, therefore, is, in all Respects, adapted to the Sublime: But if it should be ask'd, how I can reconcile this to Nature, that Men, of what Quality and Rank soever, should be suppos'd, in their private and common Conversation, to make such solemn Speeches, of so much Art and Elegance; when, in Fact, they rarely, if ever, talk in such Language: I must ingenuously own, that this Objection lies stronger against those Poems in which Actions are represented, than in which they are barely describ'd; and therefore, in this Respect, Tragedy must give Place to Epic. It may be observ'd, however, that even in Comedy, (which is suppos'd to be less concern'd in this Objection) it is impossible to imagine, that Persons should really support a Conversation, as they are represented to do, upon the Stage, and that it is full as natural to ascribe this Sublimity of Style to Kings and Heroes, as those smart Repartees, and fine Turns of Wit, to Persons of inferior Rank. But, upon the whole, the true Apology to be made for both, is, that these are probable Circumstances, if not true ones: It is enough, if they bear a near Resemblance to Truth, or if, as Horace has well express'd it,

For it is impossible that any Degree of Fiction should be the very Truth. Poets, as well as Painters, are allow'd to go beyond the Life: Nay, this is the very Point that shews their Skill most. When these imaginary Touches affect as strongly as real Truths; if we can be agreeably deceiv'd, even in spite of Conviction, how great is the Art, and how just the Triumph of the Deceiver? And this is what Horace means, in the following Lines:

But I must just take Notice, that what we have advanc'd concerning the Sublimity of this Drama, is applicable to all Tragedies, but not equally to all. For as (what I have before observ'd) there are two Sorts of Comedies; the one taken from Characters of a higher Rank, the other perfectly low: So there are two Sorts of Tragedies, the one quite sublime, the other of a more humble Nature; the first representing Kings and Heroes, and the latter, Men of private Life, but of considerable Character and Station in it. This, indeed, is intirely modern; the Punishments or Misfortunes of Tyrants, and Princes, being the only Subjects of the ancient Tragedy. We said, that tho' it is form'd upon the Calamities of private Men, yet of such whose Authority and Station in Life make them considerable; because, tho' the Afflictions of common People afford Matter for Compassion, yet not for Tragedy, their Fortunes, and their Manners, being far below the Spirit of this Sort of Poetry, and the Dignity of its Style and Versification. Some of the best Performances of our own Writers, are of this Sort, affecting us not so much with Terror, as Compassion; in exciting which, the Moderns seem far superior to the Ancients.

Tragedies, likewise, admit of another Distinction, with Regard to their Event, either fortunate, or unfortunate. It is sufficient to be true Tragedy, that Incidents of Distress and Sorrow are carried on thro' the whole, tho' the principal Persons come off fortunately at last: I say, the principal Persons; because even in this Species, that ends happily, it is necessary that some Characters should be unhappy in the Conclusion, especially the worst, or rather they only. For I can by no means approve of those Tragedies of ours, in which Persons of equal Innocence and Virtue, of the same Rank and Eminence, are punish'd and rewarded promiscuously. It is so, I own, in human Life; but a single Dramatic Piece is not design'd to give us an intire View of it: Let it therefore be truly one, and entirely consistent. It may, indeed, very justly leave the best, and most distinguish'd Characters, in Distress at last; which (as shall be observ'd hereafter) is the most affecting Sort of Tragedy. But if some innocent and virtuous Persons are fortunate, let them be all so, and the bad only left miserable; otherwise the Drama will be inconsistent: And these opposite Agitations of Mind will weaken and destroy each other. Let the Audience go home either in a pleasant or melancholy Humour; if you attempt both, you succeed in neither.

But to return to the twofold Division, we observ'd, of this species of the Drama. "In Tragedies (says[440] Vossius) that are truly tragical, the first Scenes are usually more sedate, and the last dreadful. Thus, what a terrible Conclusion has the PhoenissÆ of Euripides, where Oedipus, with his Eyes put out, is by Creon banish'd from Thebes, of which he had once been King? So, again, in his Hecuba, we see Polymestor in the same Distress; Hecuba bewailing the Murder of her Son, and the blind Polymestor relating the Calamities which the Oracle had denounc'd against Hecuba, Agamemnon, and Cassandra.[441] But if Orestes and Ægisthus, who were determin'd Enemies, had been reconcil'd, and parted without Blood-shed, the Tragedy had been less perfect. For, as we observ'd, Tragedy, in this respect, differs from Comedy, because this always ends happily, the other generally unhappily. And such should be the Conclusion of a Tragedy, according to the Rules of Art; but sometimes an unexpected Happiness arises from the greatest Distress: when this is the Case, the Poet departs from the Rules of Art, in Compliance with the Taste of his Audience, who had rather go home chearful, than melancholy. In the Electra, both of Sophocles and Euripides, the Plot takes this prosperous Turn, tho' Sophocles has shewn much greater Skill in the Conduct of it. Sophocles's Philoctetes in Lemnus, concludes in the same Way; as does Euripides's Iphigenia in Aulis; his Iphigenia in Tauri; and Alcestis; where, by Hercules's Assistance, Admetus has his Wife restor'd. And so his Orestes; for when Pylades and Orestes, incens'd at Menelaus, because he would not assist them against Tyndarus, had determin'd to put Helena, and his Daughter Hermione, to Death; Helena, by the Favour of the Gods, is taken up into Heaven, and Hermione (Menelaus coming first to her Relief, and Apollo interposing, to end the Controversy) is, by the Direction of that God, married to Orestes, who now expiated from his Mother's Blood, is made King of Argos. And his Helena again, concludes happily; where she, having artfully escap'd from Theoclymenus, returns to her Husband Menelaus, and sails, with a prosperous Gale, into Greece. So, likewise, his Tragedies of Hippolytus, Rhosus, and Ion. Even Ezekiel, the Jewish Tragic Poet, (as Clemens Alexandrinus calls him, Strom. Book I.) was the Author of a Drama, which he entituled, ??a????, or the bringing out; from whence Eusebius has transcrib'd no small Part into his Evang. PrÆp. Book IX. Chap. IV. And what Event could be more joyful, than the bringing that People out of Ægypt? Nor does Tragedy lose its Name, (as Vossius further observes) tho' the Conclusion is fortunate; because a melancholy Catastrophe is no Part of its Essence. Otherwise great Part of the Tragedies of Euripides, that are come to our Hands, would cease to be Tragedies. Wherefore, in Respect to the Essence of this Poem, it is sufficient, if it has upon the whole the real Appearance of Distress. So that the distinguishing Property of it may appear, in representing the doubtful and disastrous Fortunes of great Men. Tho' I cannot deny, (says he) but that such Tragedies borrow something from the Nature of Comedy. For the Nature of Tragedy is to be mournful, which is undeniable, since Terror and Commiseration are the chief Ends propos'd by it. When it is otherwise, it is only, as we said, in Compliance with the Taste of the People. Hence Aristotle says, that Poets fall into this Way of Writing, d?a t? t?? ?ea???? as?e?e?a? that is, to humour the wrong or weak Judgment of an Audience. But as the Populace are mutable, and inconstant, sometimes approving one Thing, sometimes another; the best Way is to keep close to the Nature of Tragedy, and not without great Necessity to depart from it."

Thus that great Man, whose Sentiments I should entirely approve of, if they did not seem, in one Particular, a little inconsistent. He says, it is not essential to Tragedies to end unhappily, which is certainly true; and yet is of Opinion, that such as do not end so, borrow something from the Turn of Comedy, because the very Nature of Tragedy is mournful. If by Nature he means the most distinguishing Property, his Opinion is, indeed, indisputable, but his Consequence is not just; because (as appears already, from both our Dissertations upon this Subject) Sorrow may be the prevailing Passion in a Drama, which, nevertheless, may conclude successfully. For every Scene of it, from the first to the last, may supply us with proper Objects of Terror and Compassion. If by Nature Vossius understands the whole Essence of Tragedy, he is not only mistaken, but plainly contradicts[442] himself; as appears from the Passages already quoted. The best Way, therefore, of determining this Point, seems to be, that both these Sorts are true Tragedies, but the one more tragical than the other.

However, that which is least tragical, and ends happily, requires more Art to write, and is read with more Advantage. With Regard to the first Particular, I shall beg Leave to cite the Authority of MrDryden. [443] Neither is it (says he) so trivial an Undertaking, to make a Tragedy end happily; for it is more difficult to save, than it is to kill. The Dagger, and the Cup of Poison, are always in Readiness; but to bring the Action to the last Extremity, and then, by probable Means, to recover all, will require the Art and Judgment of a Writer, and cost him many a Pang in the Performance." As to the Advantage, the Rewards and Punishments, by this Means, are more equitably adjusted: Which, indeed, may be tolerably affected in those Tragedies, which end unfortunately; For there, the chief Characters, being generally wicked, meet with that Punishment they deserve, and so strike a Terror into the Audience, which is accompanied, likewise, with some Mixture of Pity; for it is not necessary they should be notoriously wicked, to merit Punishment. Besides, sometimes they repent before they go off the Stage; as we have seen in two or three English Tragedies lately publish'd, which have met with that Applause they justly deserv'd: And even the Punishment of Robbers and Assassins, how justly soever they may deserve it, raises some Degrees of Compassion in us. I may add, farther, that in this Kind of Tragedy the Under-characters, which are innocent and virtuous, may at the Conclusion be rewarded for those Virtues, whatsoever Misfortunes they have struggled with before. Upon the whole, from comparing what has been said, it is plain, that even in those Tragedies which end unhappily, there is a Possibility that poetical Justice (as it is call'd) may be preserv'd: Tho' the other Sort is better adapted to this Purpose, where the chief Characters receive their proper Reward, the Virtuous made happy, and the Wicked miserable.

Terror is chiefly excited in us by a Representation of bad Men punish'd with Misfortunes; Pity with a Mixture of Terror, by a View of good Men under the same Circumstances; both Passions indifferently, by those who are not remarkable either for their Virtues, or their Vices. I have put the Case of good Men punish'd with Misfortunes, for it is consistent with the exactest Justice of the Drama, to make the most innocent meet the most disastrous Fate; a Sort of Tragedy the most tragical, of which our own Stage supplies us with many Instances. This Practice, I say, must be consistent with poetical Justice, which is strictly so with the divine. It was, indeed, less equitable upon the ancient Stage, when the Heathens knew very little of the Rewards and Punishments of a future State: But with us Christians the Case is entirely different.

But tho' it is no Injustice to represent good Men labouring under Distress, even at the last; yet the Wicked should never come off in real Triumph, and Satisfaction: They should always, at least, be so far Sufferers, that if Death is not inflicted on them, nor any other external Punishment; yet they should feel the Anguish of their own Minds, and not enjoy any secret Satisfaction in their Vices. On the other Hand, tho' good Men, to raise our Compassion, are sometimes put to Death; yet we should, even then, see them supported by a just Consciousness of their own Innocence, and the Hopes of a better Life: For tho' the Things of this World are dispos'd of in so dark and uncertain a Manner as to make us often lament the Condition of the best of Men; yet Poets, like Preachers, should not fail to remind the Audience, that there certainly will be eternal Punishments and Rewards hereafter.

"The best Tragedies (says[444] Vossius) are those where the Characters are neither perfectly virtuous, nor extreamly wicked." If this Rule is to be confin'd to some of the Characters only, it is just; but will not hold, if extended to all of them. "For the Design of Tragedy is to raise Terror and Pity." No Doubt of it. "But when the Wicked are unfortunate, we are not much dispos'd either to be terrify'd, or touch'd with Compassion at it. For who (as Tully says) is ever mov'd at the Punishment of a Traitor, or a Parricide? It should rather raise a Sort of Satisfaction in us, to think that Justice has overtaken those that have so well deserv'd it?" But, with Submission to the great Names of Cicero and Vossius, all good and generous Minds are affected with Compassion at the Execution of Rebels and Traitors; and nothing can be more terrible than the Punishment inflicted upon some of them. "Nor should they be Characters of unblemish'd Virtue; for Calamities of a good Man raise a secret Indignation; and it looks like a Sort of Inhumanity to suppose that the best of Men may be most miserable; to which I may add, that such a Representation may have some Influence in deterring weak and unthinking Minds from Virtue." There might be some Reason to believe so, if there was no other Life but the present; otherwise 'tis a weak Suspicion. Besides, is there no other Occasion to introduce good Characters upon the Stage, but to make them miserable? Has not he himself already[445] determin'd, that there are some Tragedies which end unhappily, and others happily? What he has farther advanc'd upon this Subject, is generally right. "Therefore the properest Characters for the Stage, are those of a middle Nature, between the two Extreams of Virtue and Vice; whose Errors, rather than Crimes, make them unfortunate; as Oedipus in Sophocles: Or who are reduc'd, by Necessity, to commit some wicked Action, it being the last Expedient; as Medea first kills her Brother Absyrtus, and afterwards her own Children. Not that these Characters are always requisite; for Ægisthus and ClytÆmnestra are unpardonably wicked; Electra is good; Orestes rather virtuous, than not; Agamemnon cannot be said to be bad, for tho' he sacrifices Iphigenia in Aulis, it is only in Obedience to the Oracle, and against his own Inclination. Nor can Hercules be said to appear in an indifferent Light, but rather in a good one. Wherefore we are not to conclude that those Tragedies must be entirely condemn'd, which are not in all Respects agreeable to Aristotle's Rules; but rather, that those are the best, which are conformable to them." The most tragical (with Submission to the learned Author) rather than the best, if the Rules he speaks of are really Aristotle's. For I am not satisfied, I confess, that they are his, nor does Vossius direct us where to find them[446]: Otherwise I am entirely of his Opinion in the rest I have quoted from him; except that I do not perfectly understand how it is possible for Men to act wickedly, ratione summa[447].

We are come now to the Conclusion of the Definition; in the last Clause of which, expressing the Invention of Tragedy, after these Words, to raise the Passions, particularly those of Pity and Terror; we have the following, and to purge the Mind from them. It remains, therefore, for us to shew, by what Means Tragedy purges the Passions, and that by putting them in Motion, which seems to promise a quite contrary Effect: And when that is done, just to point out whence that Pleasure arises, which we receive from Tragedy; or from what the Causes discoverable in the inmost Recesses of our Nature, our Minds are delighted with Sorrow, and feel a pleasing Anguish, even from Terror and Commiseration. To these Enquiries, I shall, at present, content myself with a short Answer, which shall be enlarg'd hereafter, in a Work that will be publish'd in our own Tongue, a few Months hence, and which has already had the Honour of being encourag'd, by the Subscriptions of several Gentlemen in this Body; to whom I here return my publick Acknowledgments. The Work I mean, is an English Translation of Virgil's Æneis: Where, in some Observations upon the fourth Book, this nice and difficult Point shall be discuss'd at large. In the mean Time, the Nature of my present Design makes it necessary for me just to touch upon it here.

Are the Passions, then, to be purg'd, even by their being put in Agitation? Yes; and why not? Bile and Phlegm, and other Humours in the Human Body, cannot be carried off, unless they are first fermented, and put in Motion: Nay, Humours are often expell'd by Medicines of the same Nature and Temperament; as Acids by Acids; Bitters by Bitters; and so of the rest. Some of the Passions, therefore, are purg'd by themselves, as Terror, and Pity; others, again, by the Means of these two. Terror and Pity, as I have said, have this Effect upon themselves; because such dramatical Representations make us more accustom'd to miserable and dreadful Objects; on which Account they become more familiar to us, and, consequently, affect us with less Misery and Terror. "By this Means, (says[448] Vossius) Tragedy is said pe?a??e?? t?? t?? t????t?? pa??at?? ?a?a?s??, to purge and relieve the Mind from such Perturbations; just as (to mention one Instance out of many) the View of those Calamities, which have formerly been the Lot of great Men, teaches others to bear their present Afflictions with Patience. To which Purpose, AthenÆus has quoted some elegant Verses of Timocles, at the Beginning of his sixth Book." And in another Place, says Vossius,[449] The Design of Tragedy is to strike a Terror in the Audience, ??p???a?, as Polybius expresses it in his second Book, where he is discoursing against Phylarchus of the different Ends which Historians and Tragic Poets have in View. The Audience feel this Emotion from a View of the Calamity before them, and the Anguish is still heighten'd by the Dignity of the Sufferers. But the Design of this Emotion is to purge the Mind from those very Passions. For, as a Veteran Soldier, or Physician, by being often conversant with Objects of real Misery, have this Advantage, that they make no greater Impression upon them, than they ought; so, in Tragedy, by seeing the violent Effects of the Passions, the Mind is taught to restrain them within due Bounds. Hence it is plain, why Aristotle says, as we observ'd, that the End of Tragedy is to purge the Passions; in which he differs entirely from Plato, who look'd upon Tragedies as the Inflammatories of them, Aristotle as their proper Correctives."

To which I may add, that when the Passions have been long exercis'd with imaginary Distress, their Strength is so much abated, that they have the less left to exert upon real Misery. The Observation which Simo makes in Terence about deceiving Davus with the Appearance of a Wedding, may be almost as justly applied to the Excess of Passion (for the Excess is what we speak of, since the Passions are in themselves good).

Taking the Question, then, in this View, the Passions may be sometimes purg'd by the Violence of their own Agitations: As Wind, which is nothing else but Air in a more rapid Motion, carries off those noxious Vapours that are mix'd with it, and would otherwise be the Occasion of Diseases.

The Passions, therefore, of Terror and Pity, are purg'd by their own Operations, and the rest by their Means. For Tragedies not only give us a Representation of violent and licentious Love, of Anger, Ambition, Revenge, and the like; but the Audience, by the Impressions of Terror and Pity, are made to feel the Effects of them. Yet there seems to be a Sort of Fallacy in this. Are not some Passions rais'd to enormous Heights, and a wild Licentiousness, even by their being represented; especially that of Love, which seems to be the whole Business of our modern Tragedies. Have not such Ideas so strongly impress'd more Influence upon the Imagination, than the poetical Medicines can carry off, which are not applied till after the Fit is begun, only by describing the criminal Excess, or fatal Consequence of these Passions? As human Nature is but too prone to indulge the Extravagance of them, may it nor be justly said,

Are they not more inflam'd by the Representation, than corrected by the Remedy? To these, and all other Scruples of this Sort, this seems to be the proper Answer: That these Effects are, or are not to be expected, just according to the Nature and Manner of the Performance. As the Case, in Fact, is, an Audience is more likely to receive ill Impressions, than Instruction, from modern Tragedies: It is one Thing to shew the Passions by their Symptoms, (to use the Language of the Physicians) i.e. by their Appearances and Effects; another to represent and excite them by all the Methods of Insinuation and Allurement. In this the later Tragedies, especially those of our own Country, are scandalously faulty: Not so the ancient, nor the Grecian Writers, who shame us Christians, by making the Glory of Chastity their own. But Tragedies that are form'd upon the Plan of Reason, and of Virtue, please the Mind without corrupting it: They furnish the Imagination with agreeable Images, without conveying any dangerous Poison under the Cover of them; they unbend the Mind, without debasing it to Softness, and Effeminacy: They describe and represent the Passions, as they are seated in all the tumultuous Disorder in the Soul; but this is so far from exciting us to the same Extravagance, that it is the sure Way to deter us from it. There is, I own, something pleasant in such Descriptions; but the Pleasure rises from no vicious Source, from no bad Principle; but from the Imitation, the Elegance, and the Art of the Poet, which strikes out such lively Images of human Nature; and, lastly, from the pleasing Anguish which Terror and Compassion raise within us: Which suggests to me the other Enquiry, that of accounting for the secret Causes of this Pleasure.

Vossius seems by no Means to give a full Solution of this Difficulty. "It may be a Question (says he[451]) how Tragedy can supply us with Delight, which is the End of all Poetry, since it represents Sorrow and Distress; and the Misfortunes, especially those of great Persons, can give no Satisfaction to a virtuous Mind. In Answer to this Difficulty, we may observe, that the Pleasure arises not from the Calamities of others, but from the Art of the Poet. How much does the Sight of real Dragons and Monsters fill us with Terror! but the Pictures of them give us Pleasure, because we are entertain'd with the Skill of the Painter. Besides, it is some Satisfaction, to be acquainted with such Misfortunes, because they may make us more cautious and prudent." What Scaliger has said, is much to the same Purpose. "But here (says he[452]) it may be objected, that Delight is included in the very Definition of Poetry: But, in Tragedy, how can the Anguish of Sorrow, Mourning and Distress, be entertaining? The Reason is, because Pleasure does not flow from Joy only, but from acquiring any Sort of Learning. Now the Spectator has the Benefit of making such an Acquisition; thus we behold Pictures with Pleasure, and are delighted with the most hideous Forms." But neither of these Answers come up to the Point: Undoubtedly great Part of the Pleasure that is given us, arises, as we before observ'd, from the Skill of the Poet, but from Nature a much greater, which Vossius and Scaliger[453] take no Notice of. Indeed, we may learn, and our Prudence may, and ought to be improv'd by these Representations: But the Mind, in the Pleasure it receives, has no Regard to these prudential Considerations. The Pleasure, therefore, of Pity, seems to arise, first, from hence, that if Things go well with us, another Man's Miseries, plac'd in View before us, make us more sensible of our own Happiness, and teach us to feel the Value of it: According to Lucretius's Observation, so often quoted:

If we are in Affliction, the Representation of the like Miseries makes our own more supportable. In both these Cases, the Pleasure arises from the Comparison, a Principle to which great Part of the Misery and Felicity of human Life is owing. It is commonly said, that no Body is miserable but by Comparison; and it may be as truly said, that no Body is happy but by Comparison. But perhaps it may be here observ'd, that this Solution does not reach the Difficulty: Pity has no Relation to ourselves, but to others; I should rather think it has to both: And how much soever we apply it to others, the Estimate is made from ourselves. Nor is this alone sufficient to explain fully the Point in Question: Another Cause of this Pleasure is, the Operation of the Mind upon itself, or (what the Schools call) its reflex Act. It contemplates that generous and humane Disposition, which inclines it towards others, and is conscious that this Commiseration does, in some Measure, arise from it. Perhaps it may be objected, that these two Principles are not consistent, since the one is an Evidence of Self-love, the other of a great and generous Mind: I shall take another Opportunity, as I have said, of shewing the strict Alliance there is between these two Principles; and that Self-love, taken in its full Latitude, ought to be allow'd as the Source of all our Passions, and the great Principle of human Actions[455]. As to Terror, the Delight it gives us in Tragedy, comes from hence; at first, (so rapid is the Current of our Ideas) we are affected with this Appearance of Distress, as if it was real; and then, by an agreeable Turn of Thought, we recollect, that this is all imaginary, and that there is no Danger. There are other Circumstances[456], which I shall take no Notice of at present, nor stay to enlarge upon those Hints I have given, because I shall examine them more at large in the foremention'd Dissertation.

Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides, the only Greek Tragic Poets that we have now left, are well known.

If we compare the ancient and modern Writers of Tragedy, the latter are much superior in forming and unravelling the Plot. The former have shewn a good deal of this Contrivance in their Comedies, but in their Tragedies very little; the Moderns in both. The chief Design of the ancient Tragic Poets was, to raise Terror, rather than Pity; of the Moderns, Compassion rather. The former excel in the Greatness and Magnificence of their Sentiments; the latter in the Variety, and passionate Parts of them. In one you have more Excellencies, in the other fewer Faults. Among the Moderns, none deserve any Comparison but the French Writers and our own: They, indeed, are elegant, ingenious, exact in observing Rules, and fond of imitating the Ancients; but want Spirit, Vigour, and poetic Fire:

The English are not to be charg'd with this Defect; nor does the Impetuosity of their Genius hinder their having a Regard to the Rules of Art. Mons. Rapin allows that they excel all the Nations in Europe, except his own: Whence we may be allow'd to conclude, that there is no great Reason for that Exception.