duced from their ends: but in following Mr. Hurd, I shall only mention those particular to what we have just now called comedy. The first law of comedy must relate to the choice of character. They must be mixed ones. Human nature never deals in manners perfectly good or completely bad: but the poet is not confined to those characters only which excite contempt and ridicule; virtuous, amiable persons, who inspire us with sentiments of love and approbation, may be properly introduced, since all probable domestic manners lie within the province of comedy. These characters will not indeed occur so often as those of another kind, not only because they are less frequent in real life, but because they admit of less variety. For reason and virtue pursue a steady uniform course, while the extravagant wanderings of vice and folly are infinite: however, when properly brought upon the stage, they will occasion more pleasing sensations there than in society; whereas the ridicule of a scenical character is much weaker than that of a real one: perhaps our malignity may furnish a reason for this difference. 2dly, Another rule of comedy relates to the management of characters; they are to be displayed in a natural manner, and, as much as may be, the personages are to give their own characters; but that by undesigned actions or expressions, by which they lay themselves open without knowing it. Nor is that character always to appear, since it cannot always exist, but as the ruling passion is modified by others, or called forth by circumstances. circumstances. A contrary method, though too common, is turning a man into a single passion; a man, such as nature never made, since those who are the most under the dominion of a ruling passion, act and talk, upon many occasions, like the rest of mankind. Actions are the province of tragedy, and manners that of comedy; this forms their distinctive difference. However, they cannot avoid running a good deal into each other. Without manners no action can be carried on, since we act according to our passions: nor could it affect us much, since our terror, or our pity, depends chiefly upon our love and hatred. On the other hand, how could manners be represented without a probable series of events, contrived to call them forth in a natural manner? We can only say, therefore, that in tragedy the action is the principal, manners an accessory circumstance; in comedy manners are the principal, action the accessory circumstance. In both the poet must take care that the end be not lost in the means. this reason the complicated plots of the Spanish writers have been justly laid aside as contrary to the true genius of comedy.' It may be worthy of some notice, in speaking of characters, that the most natural ones are comic; many highly so, are unfit for tragedy. Tragedy requires characters, good or bad, but of a power and energy equal to the greatest effects: but many passions, (the passions of weak minds,) such as vanity, can never with truth be raised to that dramatic importance; the actions produced by such passions will be al For ways, ways, like themselves, puny and insignificant: but the energy of the stronger passions may be softened and reduced to the level of common life. Cruelty and ill-nature may disturb either a family or a nation; besides, there are other passions, the power of which, though great, is vilified by their object. The various species of avarice have produced the most tragic events; but the love of money is of so vile and groveling a nature, that it would degrade the most pathetic tragedy that turned upon it. This difference of the two species cannot well be disputed but it has been asked, whether they have not been distinguished by the rank, as well as the character, of the personages; or in other words, whether tragedy is confined to the public and exalted characters of kings and generals, and comedy to the humbler stations of private life? Without any regard to authority, I shall examine this question, mixing indifferently my own reasons and Mr. Hurd's. As to tragedy, it may indeed be said, that we are the most affected by those misfortunes which might happen to ourselves; and that therefore the distresses of a private family must touch us more nearly than those of a monarch: but to counteract that advantage we may remark, that the story of those whom we are accustomed to look upon with awe and veneration, attaches us in the strongest manner, and awakes our terror and pity much more than the wretchedness of private men. These indeed are popular notions; but the poet's busi ness ness lies in complying with those notions, not in reforming them. Besides, the misfortunes of the great, though not superior in themselves to those of the multitude, are yet far more important in their consequences, which heighten the distress, by extending the influence of it to the whole community. To these general remarks I may add a particular one, that in the noblest subjects, those founded upon ambition, love of our country, &c. the rank of the personages cannot be too exalted; since upon that depends the greatness of the prize for the one, and of the sacrifices in the other; and consequently great part of the importance of the action and strength of passion. But cannot comedy admit of monarchs? they have their private life, and may not the ridicules of it be displayed upon the stage? I think not; but I must give my reasons. 1. The first will be taken from the spectators. We love comedy, because it offers to us a faithful representation of what we meet with in life. It must be therefore the life of the most considerable part of the audience, that the poet should represent: but what is that part? The question is easily resolved, by looking through human society, and observing that insensible gradation from the man of quality to that degree immediately above the mechanic and the labourer; every link, from the highest to the lowest, enough connected with the others to have some acquaintance with their manners; and enough improved by education, to laugh at their own follies. These then are the manners a poet poet should copy in their different appearances: should he touch those of the prince or peasant, they must either be the same or different. If the same, why go out of the way for them? if different, who will be found to understand or relish them? This is particularly true of the manners of princely life. With those of the lowest we are better acquainted; and the poet may find some archetypes among the spectators: but the grossness of them will disgust every one whom he can desire to please. 2. But are the manners of princes different from those of their subjects? are there any qualities peculiarly royal? I know but one; that is, the thinking that there are such: in other words, I mean a fondness for flattery. That ridicule can, I confess, be no where so well represented as on the throne; since those will always receive, and love, the most extravagant adulation, who have it most in their power to reward and punish: but still I think it a better subject for satire than comedy. It would be difficult to put in action the follies of a monarch; the great theatrical resource is, the opposition and contrast of characters that display each other. The severity of Demea, and the easiness of Micie, throw a light upon one another. Should we be half so well acquainted with the misanthropy of Alceste, were it not for the fashionable, complaisant character of Philinte? But the poet would be almost destitute of this resource, if he laid his scene in courts, which offer one uniform set of manners moulded upon the example of the prince. What contrast could be found to set off |