Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2017 with funding from Getty Research Institute https://archive.org/details/historicalcriticOOricc , A N Hiftorical and Critical ACCOUNT OF THE THEATRES I N EUROPE- A N Hiftorical and Critical A C C O U N T O F T H E T H E A T R E S E U k' N 0 P E. viz. The Italian, Spanijb, French, Englijh, Dutch, Flemijh, and German Theatres. In which is contain’d A REVIEW of the Manner, Perfons and Character of the Actors ; intermix’d with many Curious Dissertations upon the DRAMA. Together with Two Celebrated Ess ays : VIZ. An ESSAY on Action, or, The Art of Speaking in Public : And, A Comparifon of the Ancient and Modern Drama. By the famous Lewis Riccoboni of the Italian !Theatre at Paris. The Whole illuftrated with Notes by the Author and Tranflator, L O N D O ; r : . - Printed for T. Waller, ini i*'Temple \ and R. Dodsley, in Pall-Mall, 1741. 2.5007 ■a * i • > A . * T O ”\ Charles Fleetwood\ Hfq; SIR , A S the Theatre has ever been efteemed the bell: School for polifhing and improving the Manners of a People, whatever tends to its Improvement muft be allowed to be an A£fc of Public Spirit. The Author of the following Sheets has laid down the belt and A 3 mod: DEDICATION. moft lenfible Rules for A£ion, and reduced the Knowledge of the Stage itfelf to a kind of Science 5 therefore a Tranflation of what he has wrote on that Subject can be dedicated to none fo properly as to a Gentle¬ man who has fo fuccefsfully endea¬ voured to render Theatrical Enter¬ tainments at once delightful and nleful. s— The Revival, on the Englifh Stage, of thofe Plays, which do Ho¬ nour to Human Nature, is in a great meafure owing to You : And if this Nation can claim a Merit fuperior to all others, from the Noble Mo¬ nument which the Public Love has ere&ed to their Author, You, Sir, may claim, with Juftice, a large Share in that Merit, as You was not only one of the Truftees, but the moft confiderable Contributor in the Nation towards ere&ing the Monu¬ ment DEDICATION. rnent of Shakefpear in the beautiful Manner we now behold it. A Manager of a Public Theatre muft in that Character be allow’d to be a very important as well as ufeful Member of Society, fince it is from thence -that the fifing Generation derives whatever is moft graceful and agreeable in Life $ and others , all that makes the Habit of Virtue amiable in the Eyes of the Public. In this View alone I take the Liberty of fubmitting to your Peru- fal, and recommending to your Pro¬ tection, the following Pages, with my hearty Wiihes that your Endeavours may meet with the Succels they de« ferve ; then will the Public, I will venture to fay, have the agreeable ProfpeCt of feeing the Engl'ijh Stage poilels the lame Superiority in the Polite World, that her Poetry has A 4 long DEDICATION. long acquired with every Man of Genius and Difcernment, who under- Hands and can feel its Beauties. Give me Leave to add another Wifh, which is, that our Nation may then be as forward in rewarding the Living, as it has of late been grateful in ho¬ nouring the Dead Supporters of her Stage. I am , Sir, Tour mofl Obedient Humble Servant, ■ Y The Tranflator, + THE TRANSLATOR’t PREFACE M R. Riccoboni, Author of the following Pieces, has equally diftinguifh’d him- felf as an Adtor, and a Critic. He is by Birth an Italian, he is now in the Italian Comedy at Paris, and his Turn for the Stage feems to have led him into a very tedious and laborious Purfuit of the Manner in which it may be render’d at once entertaining and improving. For this Purpofe he vifited all the Stages in Europe , and in the following Hiflorical Account is the Refult of all his curious Relearches. What is moft for the Purpofe of an En- glijh Reader to obferve, in comparing them all, is, that the Civil and Political Manners of a People have ever form’d their Tafte for the Drama. Italy, that great Source from whence was deriv’d the Light which ftruck up, what we may call, a new Creation in Tranjlatofs 'Preface. in the Intelligent World by the Revival of Learning, Arts and Sciences, after a long Night of Barbarilm, had then the Happinefs of feeing the Family of Medicis flourilh in Florence and at Rome , and the Example of thefe learned and munificent Princes was readily follow’d by every Man of Confidera- tion or Note in that Nation. This natu¬ rally invited the middling and inferior Peo¬ ple, which always compofe the Bulk of Dra¬ matic Audiences, into the fame Purfuits, m. a Third after Beauty and Truth in the Arts. Perhaps the Stage was not the principal Objedt, but as Cicero (ays, Omnes Artes , quce ad humanitatem pertinent , habent quoddam commune Vinculum , & quaJiCognatione quada?n inter fe continentur. Thence it was, that the Drama (hared largely in the great Reformation; and the Italians could then boaft a Stage little inferior to that of Greece itfelf. But when amongft them Delicacy funk into Effeminacy , when Fa fie degenerated into AffeSlation, and Knowledge into barren Curiofity , their Stage (har’d in the general Corruption ; and its Decay was the firft Sym¬ ptom of that Degeneracy of Morals which has fince made that People the eafy Prey to every ambitious Invader. Tho’ the Spanijh Drama was by no means ever regular, yet we find that it flourilh’d and fell with the true Chara&er of the Na¬ tion, Tranjlatofs Preface. tion, which again was influenc’d by that of their Government. The Difcoveries which the Spaniards made in the New World, and the enterprizing Genius of that People about an Age ago, may perhaps (more than to any other Caufe) be attributed to a Romantic Spirit, deriv’d from their Gothic and Moorifli Anceftors, encourag’d by their Princes, adopted by their Nobility, and propa¬ gated by their Stage. With the Decay of this Spirit their Stage faded in Proportion, and the Drama has now but a faint and feeble Exigence in that Country. In France , the Theatre, when at its Per¬ fection, retain’d every Charaderiftic of the Court. The Reign of a young munificent Prince, fucceeding a long Age of civil Difcord, made Paffion, Gallantry and Magnificence the chief Objeds of their Drama. As their Court improv’d in Tafte, their Drama ap¬ proached nearer to Perfedion, but both drill retain’d the fame Charaders: PaJJion with¬ out Elevation , Eloquence in Writings without Strength of Genius , and the . Flames of the Hero blown by the Sighs of the Lover. A Man well acquainted with Englifj Hiftory and Policy muft be fen Able what a vaft Variety of Turns the Charader of this Nation has admitted of within thefe two hundred Years? if to this Knowledge he foall TranJIator’s Preface. fhall join that of the Englifh Drama, he will find the latter always partaking in the Cha¬ racter of the former; and both of them influenc’d by that of the Rulers of the Land, whether they aCted on the Principles of Li¬ berty, Prerogative or Tyranny. Shakefpear , whofe Genius is a Species of itfelf, could never have wrote as he did, nor mark’d his Characters fo ftrongly, had he not catch’d them warm from Life, and liv’d at a Time when Virtue, Honefty and Courage, being in Fafliion at Court, became familiar and daily ObjeCts in common Life. The two Reigns fucceeding to that of Queen Elizabeth pro¬ duc’d no great Dramatic Genius that had not been before form’d and ripen’d by the Influence of that Princefs and her Court. The DifiraCtions and Ufurpations after King Charles’s Murder feem’d to extinguifh every Thought of the Stage; and the Return of his Son, by introducing Lafcivioufnefs and De¬ generacy of Manners into the Nation, efta- blifbed the fame Characters on the Theatre. The Reign of King James, a Prince, with all his Imperfections, remarkably munificent to Poets, was too thort for us to form any Con¬ jecture about the Character which the Stage, had he continued longer upon the Throne, might have aflumed. I fhall leave the Rea¬ der to bring this Review lower, after ac¬ quainting 4 Tranflator's Preface. quainting him that there has not fince been any remarkable Period, which might in any degree affedt the Liberties and Interefts of this Nation, in which the Stage had not had a confiderable Influence. From this fhort Review I hope it will appear of what Importance the Stage is even in a Political Senfe, in keeping alive that Spi¬ rit which forms the true Character of every People^ And I hope the following Pages may give fome ufeful Hints towards a farther Improvement of it here in Britain. \ T H E THE A U T H 0 R’ s PREFACE T HE Intention of this Preface is to convince the Public, that the Modern Stage , tho vaflly improved flnce its jirjl Inftitution is yet far from boafing that Degree of Perfection that Men of Senfe , Genius and Virtue require. It may be told me, that after forefeeing the Necefjity of a farther Im¬ provement , I ought to point out the Means ne- cejfary to attain it. Phe Objection is both juji and natural; and inAnfwer to it I defign, in a feperate Work, to confider the Means of reforming the Stage j but I thought it proper to begin wiib an Hiflo- rical Account of the Pheatres of Europe, com¬ paring one *with the other, and making critical Reflections on each. Phis I have done in a Manner which I hope will be at once agreeable and ufeful. A Point, which all Public Wri¬ ters ought to have principally in View. If the French, Author’s Preface. French, who are naturally curious, Jhall en¬ deavour to make themfelves Mafiers of the Manners, the Cufloms, and the Forms of Fo¬ reign Theatres, can we imagine that their Neighbours will be backward in fearchingfor the fame Piece of Knowledge % By this means when the Tafie Jhall begin to change, and when the Stage by degrees Jhall ajfume a new Form , as we have feen it do in lefs than an Age pafi, Pojlerity needs but to conjult this Jmall Perfor¬ mance, to infirudl themjelves of the Form and Manner of our prefent Drama, without taking the Trouble to examine a vafl Number of Works of different Nations. I dare even hope that my Remarks may be of Jome Utility to Poets , in regulating their ConduSl, and in directing them to that Method that is mojl agreeable to Reafon, Religion, and Good Manners. In this Account, I have plac'd the Italian and Spanifh Iheat re before thofe of France, England, Holland and Germany, becaufe the mojl 7 iatural Order to be laid down in a Work of this kind is that of ’Time. The Italians and Spaniards were the fir ft in this Way-, and I Jhould have aided prepofteroufiy had 1 , in this Work, given the Preference to others who fuc- ceeded them long after. RE- REFLECTIONS UPON Dec lam at i o n, or, The Art of Speaking in Public , &c. PERSON who does not piofefs an Art, is excufable if he is igno¬ rant of its Principles; but if he profefles it, he is anfwerable to the Public if he is not completely Matter of it both in Theory and Pradice. The diffe¬ rent Callings of Mankind in Civil Society are the Effeds of the wife Difpofitions of an all-ruling Providence, and it is blameable in us to negled the moft minute Confideration that may contribute either to our Inlfrudion in the Theory, or Perfedion in the Pradice. Experience however teaches us, that many look upon their own Profejlion as the Tyrant of their Genius , and exclaim againtt their Fate for fubjeding them to Labours which are their Averfion, and leading them into B Purfuits REFLECTIONS 2 Purfuits in Life, in which, for want of the neceffary Talents, they have no Profpedt of fucceeding. Hence it proceeds, that many negledt their own Profeffion, and are igno¬ rant in the Rules of an Art, which has em¬ ployed their whole Life to pradtife. It would be eafy to demonftrate the Folly of this; and the Hiftory of the great Men, who have excelled in the Sciences and fine Arts, are fertile in Examples of a contrary Condudt. Even Daily Experience may convince us, that a Man, whom Nature has indulged neither in the neceffary Talents nor in the Inclination for an Art which he pro- feffes, can, by Application, fupply thefe De¬ feats fo perfectly, as to arrive at the fame Excellence with thofe who {hare largely in every Gift of Nature and Judgment, that is requifite to attain Perfection, Among the Arts, there is one which is either quite given up, or negledted, the Mo¬ ment that a Perfon, after a faint Effay in it, finds that he is deftitute of the Qualifications that can make him fhine. This proceeds from a common Prepoffefiion that Excellence is not to be acquired, that DefeSls are not to be fupplied, nor the Difficulties that lye in the way furmounted, without the Affift- ance of Natural Genius. The Art I mean is that of Declamation , an Art in which Demojlhenes is a Handing Inftance to re- upon Declamation, 6cc. 3 proach the Indolent , and a glorious Example to promote the Indujlrious. The Art I treat of unites the Expreffion of Action to the Propriety of Pronuncia¬ tion, in order to give the Sentiment its full Imprefiion upon the Mind or Heart. A tuneable Voice, a great and a graceful Deportment, are not fufficient to make a Speaker fucceed in every Province of Ora¬ tory. We every Day fee Speakers who with all thefe Advantages are grown grey in a falfe manner of Adtion, and this becaufe they did not refledl that Nature does not beftow the Polilh upon the Diamond die forms, and that it is Labour and Art which gives it Water and Lufture. Could we trace the Progrefs of the great- eft Orators of our Times, I am perluaded we fhould lind that their firft Eftays were but faint and 'unpromifing, nay, that their Manners were ungraceful and awkward, and that it required a long Courfe of Study and Application to corredt the original Abfurdi¬ ties of their Adtion. The great Mafters of Antiquity are thought by many to be but weak Authorities upon this Head; the learned Few indeed efteem them, but by moft Speakers they are difregarded; as if every Deviation from their Principles was not at the lame time a Deviation from Fruth and Nature . Men of Genius, when they read B 2 their 4 REFLECTIONS their Works, perceive that their Precepts are no other than a Repetition of what their own Underftanding had before fuggefted; fometimes the fame Ideas recur, which after a ferious Examination we find were exprefied by the Ancients; and this leads fome Moderns into a Miftake that Antiquity is only an ufe- lefs Piece of Reading -, but I maintain that this is the very Quality which recommends it. It is true, that when we reafon upon an Art which derives its Principles wholly from Nature, a Man, tho’ of a very indifferent Underftanding, may acquire it of himfelf, but never can acquire it fo as to excell-, for tho’ in Oratory the Uninftrudled finds in his Mind every Faculty which is requifite to have a clear Conception of the fundamental Truths of that great Art, yet, would he be completely Mafter of them, he muft be directed by Acquirements unattainable by an untutored Capacity. On the other hand, a Man of Genius ought to cultivate an Ac¬ quaintance with thofe ancient Mafters, both as they regulate the Range of his Imagina¬ tion, and fupply Ideas to his Judgment. Eloquence and Action were found neceffary, and pradtifed from the moft remote Anti¬ quity ; they have civilized the Manners of the moft barbarous, they have recommended themfeives to the Efteem of the moft polite. Nations. upon Declamation, &c. 5 Nations. The Art of Declamation is called Exterior Eloquence; and indeed the moll forcible and the moll irrefragable Arguments, when committed to Paper, can never affecffc us with the fame Force as when animated by the Energy of Expreffion and the Beauty of Action. When thefe meet, we may pro¬ nounce the Perfon who pofielfes them a com¬ plete Speaker. The Initiates in the Art of Declamation ought never to expofe themfelves to the Neceflity of appearing in Public: For even their firft Appearance demands the Abilities of a Mafter, I do not know if there is any thing in Life more irkfome than to hear a Speech pronounced in a {hocking manner: One can excufe himfelf from fitting a long time before a wretched Picture, or before a Statue where the Proportions are unjuft and ill-difpofed; but when a Man enters into an Affembly to hear a Speech or a Difcourfe, Good Manners oblige him to fit it out to the End, and it unfortunately happens that one has too many Opportunities of exercifing his Patience, both by the frequent Occafions that offer, and the numerous Profelfors of the Art. The Pulpit, the Bar, Academies, Col¬ leges, Clubs, Coffee-Houfes, the Parliament and the Play-houfe have all their Votaries, who eagerly purfue this Art. It is a Miftake if we imagine, among the B 3 difffc* 6 REFLECTIONS different Profeffions I have named, that there are any who are under no Neceffity of cul¬ tivating this Art. Even Authors who only appear in Print are interefted; for there is no Author, who, if he has any Friends, does not, before he fubinits his Work to the Cen- fure of the Public, appoint a Set of Com¬ pany to whom he caufes his Work to be read, that from the Effects which it has upon them, he may form a Judgment of its Succefs with the Public. As to Poetical Compofiitions we need not hefitate a Moment; for your Poeti¬ cal Gentleman, tho’ perhaps he has no In¬ tention to appear in Print, loves to have his Verfes repeated all over the Town: Thus Writers both in Verfe and Profe are under a kind of Neceffity of underffanding the Art of Speaking ; for a bad manner of Pronun¬ ciation fometimes throws the Audience into a Difguft and Languor , which is but a very indifferent Omen of Succefs with the Pub¬ lic; tho’ perhaps all the Matter is, that the Merits of the Work are not perceived thro’ the Unfkiifulnefs of the Repeater. I am fenfible that among the Ancients, whom we muff own to be our Mafters in the Art of Declamation , there were a great many bad Orators; therefore it is not at all furprizing that the fame thing fhould happen now. I own it is not, and in fome meafure it is eafily accountable for; but this Obfer- vation upon Declamation, &c. 7 vation can be no Excufe to thofe to whom Nature has denied Talents for fucceeding in Declamation , yet perfevere in a bad Manner , without endeavouring to corredt it. Befides, I comprehend under the Art of Declamation , every Intercourfe of Conver- fation which is communicable by diftindt, intelligible Language, no Difcourfe is fo fami¬ liar, no Chat fo indifferent and undefigning, as not to have its own Peculiarities of Ex- preffion pointed out by Nature herfelf; and it is a Miftake to imagine that an Academic , for Inftance, is not obliged to be acquainted with the Rules of Declamation , provided every thing that he reads in the Aflemblies where he is converfant, is delivered in an in¬ telligible, and almoft familiar, manner. I maintain the contrary, and affirm that there is no familiar Difcourfe but what has Modu¬ lations of Voices that are proper or improper for its Subjedt. Every Man is obliged to a minute Search into the proper manner of exprefling even the fmallefl Trifle that falls in his way; if he wants that, the Matter he has to communicate cannot have its due Effedt. I fball not here point out that immenfe Variety of Accents of which the Voice is fufceptible, and which ought to be employed on different Occalions in order to do Juftice to the vafl Crowd of Sentiments that arife in B 4 the s REFLECTIONS the Mind. I am perfuaded that it is lmpofi- fible to write fo upon this Subjedl as to leave nothing unlaid that may illuftrate it; and to obviate every Difficulty that may occur. If Quintilian , treating of the Adlion of an Orator, fays, that he ought not always to be tied down to Precepts, but fometimes to con- fult his own Genius, I believe I am juflified in making the fame Refledlion upon the Turns of the Voice; I even think that Rules are unneceffary, becaufe, generally fpeaking, thefe Turns are not to be regulated by Precepts, and are indeed infinite, if every one, following his own Genius, be it fevere or eafy , J'oft or violent , varies them fuitably. Nature in forming Mankind feldom throws even the moil: minute Parts of two different Men into the fame Mould; we find it very rare that two Faces have a ftrong Refem- blance of one another, but it never happens that they cannot be diftinguifhed: We do not even find that the Eyes, the Hands, the Mouth, the Ears, or the Nofe of two diffe¬ rent Men are exadily the fame in Colour, Form, and Symmetry. This wondrous Con- dudt of the Father of Nature, who has .ftampt fuch a Difference not only upon the •z ohole, but upon the Members of a different Body, naturally leads us to another Reflec¬ tion. Amidft: that furprizing Variety we may obferve, that the Voices of Men never exadily upon Declamation, &c. 9 exactly refemble one another, which can only proceed from the Difference betwixt the interior Organs of the Human Body in feve- ral Perfons. How then can one imagine himfelf capable to mark out the different Turns and Cadencies peculiar to fo many Millions of Men, each of whom has a dif¬ ferent Voice adapted to his own particular Genius, and immediately under its Direction? It would require a great deal of Pains to point out in general thofe different Sounds, the melancholy , the chearful , the furious , &c. and I even believe it is ufelefs to put the Ex¬ amples fuitable to each in Writing; thele muft neceffarily be conveyed by animated Expreflion, and their Propriety can only be perceived in the fine Adtion of an able Mafter. Could we penetrate and lay open our Soul to the Bottom, it would be no hard Matter to perceive the Source of every Modulation of the Voice; (he comprehends them all, becaufe they are neceffary to her communi¬ cating to us thofe wonderful Excellencies en- truftedto her by the Author of Nature. But as the Matter into which (he is pent obftrudts her Operations, (he muft Jhake her Plumes , and detach herfelf as much as poffible from the Subftance which confines her. In order to fucceed in this in (bme meafure, we muft fir ft deliver the Soul from the Incumbrance of JO REFLECTIONS of the Senfes; an Operation which, tho’ vio¬ lent, is by no means impracticable. The Enthufiafm of Poets, and the deep Refearches of Sages, in whatever Age they lived, were no other than the Effects of that profound Recollection of their intellectual Faculties which penetrated to the Bottom of the molt retired Sentiments and Paffions of the Soul. Here they furveyed Anger, Pity, Revenge, and the reft of the Affedions, un- difguifed by Cuftom, and unfettered by Inte- reft. Thus every Expreffion, every Linea¬ ment of the Pictures, which they gave of the Human Soul, was warm, animated and juft, becaufe all drawn from the Life. Thus the Readers found nothing in their Works that could either be improved, mended, or correBed. It was aftonifhing fometimes to furprife thefe great Men in the Crifis of their Enthu- jiafm , when they appear’d quite abfent, with¬ out the Ufe either of Eyes or Ears. They were looked upon as Fools till they were awakened and roufed from their profound Meditations; and then they at once left their beautiful Vifions and enchanting Ideas, into which they had been worked by their long Application. A Lofs that was generally irreparable; for too often it happened that thefe Sages and Poets could never more recall thofe exquifite Pleafures of Imagination, nor recoiled the inflrudive Refledions in which their 11 upon Declamation, &c. their Souls were wrapt before they awakened. The Ancients termed Poetry a Divine Language, an Epithet that has been adapted by Pofterity; the firft Divines among the Heathens were all Poets, they treated of their Gods in their Poems, and their Oracles were all delivered in Verfe. But whence comes it that we, who have a Syfletn of Faith , different from that of the Heathens, fhould likewife call fine Poetry a Divine Language f For my own Part I am convinced, that the chief Reafon, which both the Ancients and we had to give it this Ap¬ pellation, was becaufe Poetry is regarded as a Language above Humanity; fince in effedt, when the nobleft Enthufafm of the Poet fpeaks the Language of the Soul, we hear fomething that is amazing, and which can admit of no other Character but that of Divine. But how can we repeat or reprefent fuch Compofitions, otherwife than by cloathing them in the Language of the Soul likewife? Hence it appears to me by an unavoidable Confequence that their Orators, Sages, and Poets entered into the fame Enthufafm when they repeated, which they felt when they compofed, their Works. If the Soul which infpired their Thoughts equally operated in pronouncing them, their Pronunciation muft have been always juft and infinitely variated ia REFLECTIONS variated, from the moft fublimeHeroics down to the moft familiar Profe. But one may eafily conclude, that the Enthufiafm they fell into in declaiming was far lefs intenfe than that which aflifted in compofmg. Nature dictates this, and we fee it every Day, at leaft in appear¬ ance, put in Practice. Every Orator after he falutes his Audience remains for fome Moments motionlefs and filent; very often he ftiuts his Eyes; and it is generally believed that he does this in order to give the Spectators time to compofe them- felves, that they may be more attentive to what he has to deliver: I even think that it is with this View that the greateft Number of Orators obferve fuch a Practice; but both the Speakers and Hearers are under a Miftake. Thofe Moments which the Orator obierves to himfelf ought to be employed in recolleB- ing his Ideas ; and a Minute is fufficient for him to forget all Nature, and to fill his Mind entirely with his SubjeCt. Jf he afterwards opens his Eyes when he begins his Difcourfe, he feems to fend them over all, but fixes them on no particular ObjeCt; and if by Accident his Looks {hall reft on one Point, he diftinguilhes it by no extraordinary Emo¬ tion ; and this perhaps happens in the very Crifis of his Recollection. It is then that entering upon his Difcourfe, be his SubjeCt what it will, he feels that Enthufiafm which upon Declamation, &c. 13 is neceflary to make him declaim in the Sounds of the Soul. It is not a random Obfervation when we Commonly lay, Such a Speaker does not ani¬ mate his ExpreJJion ; or that there are fome Paff'ages in fuch a Work that ought to be more animated. It is becaufe the Enthufafm I have mentioned is wanting both in the Compofition and Delivery, and neither the Speaker nor Author have endeavoured to ani¬ mate themfelves , that is, to write and to fpeak according to the pure genuine Sentiments of the Soul, detached as it were from all Matter. Words alone are not the only Means by which the Art of Declamation exprefles the Sentiments of the Soul: Nature has im¬ planted in the Eyes fuitable Expreffions which convey the Sentiments cf the Soul to the Mind; and we may venture to lay, that in Speaking and Adtion the Eyes polfefs the faired: Place. Cicero and Quintilian have not forgot their Effedts; and at prefent how many Orators do we fee whole Excellen¬ cies would be more complete, did they not Ihut their Eyes during half the time they are lpeaking? I lhall not advife an Orator to go too much into this Method, whatever Reafons may be given for the Pradtice; whe¬ ther that an Orator, being conlcious of a trear cherous Memory, is afraid that he may be dilcon-j 14- RE FLECTIONS difconcerted ; or that he imagines, (hutting his Eyes for an Inftant, and then opening them all of a fudden, they ferve as the Light¬ ning that precedes the Bolt, which the Eloquence of the Orator is ready to dif- charge, and which indeed is a Mafterpiece of Adlion. In (hort, whether it is the Effedt of Precaution or Art, it is a Pradtice that is both ways dangerous; for by a Speaker fre¬ quently (hutting his Eyes, his Expreflion in a great meafure lofes its Force. The Eyes therefore ought indifpenfibly to attend the Enthujiafm of Adtion, becaufe it is certain that by them the mod incon- (iderable Sentiments of the Soul may be ex- prefled. We may even go fo far as to fay r that without the filent Language of the Eyes Words would (ink under Expreflion ; that almoft Divine Expreflion communicated by, and imparted to, the Soul; and we ought not one Moment to doubt that both in the great and the minute Parts of Oratory, the Eyes infinitely contribute to the Succefs of the Speaker. If we obferve narrowly, we (hall find that our Eyes, without the Help of Words, can dilcover Fear, Fury, Shame, Refolution, Archnefs, Tendernefs, Indiffe¬ rence, Envy, Joy, Grief, and that inexpref- fible Number of Paffions that crowd the Soul of Man. r If a Speaker is deeply (killed in his Art t he ) upon Declamation, See. 15 he will not be fatisfied with barely making the Expreffion of his Eyes attend that of his Tongue, but take care that the former fliall have a Moment’s Start of the latter. For Inftance, in a Period, which ought to fet out with a burft of Anger, if the Speaker, in a little Paufe which he artfully makes before he fpeaks, fhall by a lingle Look exprefs his Anger, he can fo effectually prepoffefs the Spectator with what he is to fay, that he will all of a fudden mould him into that Temper which moft eafily admits of the Impreffions that he defigns to convey in the reft of his Difcourfe. The fame Obfervation holds of all the other Paflions. Amongft all the expreffive Operations of the Eye, there is one of great Confequence. A Speaker ought to take care not to work himfelf up to Tears: Yet if they fhall naturally flow, he fhould not ufe the leaft Efforts to ftop them. The Grimaces of a Speaker, who forces himfelf to cry, are either difgufljul or ridiculous ; but when his Tears flow fponta- neoufly, it rarely happens that the Emotions which attend them are difagreeable. The Speakers who endeavour to weep never can thoroughly feel what they fay; for when it is the Soul that fpeaks, Tears require no intermediate Afliftance to . make them flow. If they are affeCted, the Cheat is eafily difeo- vered, and the EffeCt they have is either none REFLECTIONS i6 none at all, or very bad; but if they are natural, they touch the Heart, and fteal the good Willies of the Spectators. One can fcarcely be perfuaded that the reft of the Face enjoys the fame noble Qua¬ lities of the Eyes, for exprefting the Senti¬ ments of the Soul; yet it contributes fo much to Expreflion, that the Words and the Eyes can never of themfelves fucceed with¬ out its Help. We often find in a Speaker a Set of inflexible Features which the Spec¬ tators exprefs by a Phrafe which we daily hear, An unmeaning Face. The Language of the Face confifts in the Mufcles of which it is compofed, with the Blood that animates them; and when thefe two are put in Adtion, \ they both by their Colour and Movement very fenfibly paint the Sentiments of the Soul. The great Shakefpear contains many Inftances of this kind : In that Scene where Othello murders his Wife, after he gives her a Hint of his Intention, he makes her fay: — And yet Ifear you, for you're fatal then When your Eyes roll fo. Why I fhould fear I know not , Since Guilt I know not: Tet I feel , 1 fear. Oth. Think on thy Sins. Def. They're Loves I bear to you. Oth. Ay! and for that thou dy'jl. Del. upon Declamation, &c. 17 Def. 'That Death's unnatural , that kills for loving. Alas! why gnaw you fo your nether Lip? Some bloody Pafion flakes your very Frame: Thefe are Portents: But yet I hope, I hope. They do not point on me. In Henry VIII. when that Prince leaves Wolfey , the latter fays, — He parted frowning from me, as if Ruin Leapt from his Eyes. But the fineft Inftanceof that kind I know, is in King John , when Hubert acquaints that Prince with the Death of Arthur. The Earl of Pembroke, who had never feen Hubert before, oblerving King John and him in clofe Conference, fpeaking of Hubert , fays to the Earl of Salijbury, The Image of a wicked heinous Fault Lives in his Eye; that clofe Afpe6t of his Does Ihew the Mood of a much troubled Breaft. And I do fearfully believe 'tis done , What we fo fear'd he had a Charge to do. C Sal 18 REFLECTIONS Sal. The Colour of the King doth come and Between his Purpofe and his Confcience, Like Heralds ’twixt two dreadful Battles fent: His PaJJion is fo ripe , it needs mufl break *. It would be endlefs to multiply Inftances of this kind from this Divine Writer: The only Reflection we (hall make is, That thefe Paffages fhew to what Excellence , Attion may be carried, if it copies immediately after Nature. We may obferve at the fame time that when Shakefpear wrote, it is probable that the Actors, who played the Parts of King John , Henry , Hubert , and Othello, muft have entered fo far into Nature, as to be able to exprefs by their Features, and that too at the proper Inftant, thofe Paffions which the Poet has fo beautifully defcribed in his Lines. Otherwife the Adtion mufl: have been mife- rably faulty, and the Excellence of the Poet would have chiefly ferved to point out the grot's Defedts of the Adtor, by putting the Audience * The Author in the Original gives a Quotation from Racine , but it falls fo infinitely fhort of what we find in almoft every good Englijb Dramatic Poet, that I believe the Reader will, when he looks into the Original, eafily pardon my fupplying it from Shakefpear. 1 have likewife ventured to throw what he infers, from the Inflance he brings, into an¬ other Light which may accommodate it more to our Stage, and avoid a Repetition of fome Part of what goes before. /T". upon Declamation, &c. 21 the Motions and Deportment of the one may be extremely awkward in every thing he does, and thofe of the other very genteel and agreeable. If an Orator happens not to be endowed by Nature with the Talent of properly managing his Arms, he is defective in a very material Point. The Affiftances he may borrow from an affiduous Pradtice before his Looking-Glafs, and great Appli¬ cation, may give him an affedted, but never the true, Motion of the Hand and Arm; and tho’ it is faid that Demojlhenes took the Advice of a Mirror in regulating his Move¬ ments, I am of a quite different Opinion. Who knows if the Pains he took were not in order to bring to Perfection the Talents which he already poffefled, rather than to purfue thofe which he did not poffefs; and that he did not chufe this Method to increafe the Beauty rather than to correct the Faults of his Action ? An Orator who is confcious that his Adtion is imperfedt in this refpedt ought, in (lead of pradtifing the Action of the Anns , to reftrain himfelf from moving them at all; all his Cares ought to be diredfed to bring the other Parts of his Adtion to as high a Degree of Perfedtion as pofiible. If he once can attain to fpeak with the Enthufiafm of the Language of the Soul, he will, without his own perceiving it, move his Arm, for the C 3 Soul REFLECTIONS 22 Soul will then diredt it, and therefore his Gefture never can be unjuft. As to thofe to whom Nature has been fo favourably partial as to endow them with this Embellifhment, tho’ they are under no Neceffity of ftudying their Gefture, yet they ought to take care not to be too lavifh of their Talents. It happens to them as it does fometimes to certain Speakers, who having deep Lungs and a ftrong Pipe, are always plying them with fo much Violence, that they lofe the Merit of giving to their Ex- preflions that Variety of Accents, fo necef- fary for painting and underftanding their Thoughts; in the fame manner a Speaker, who is too lavifti of his Geftures, finds fo much Work for the Eyes of his Auditors that they are quite fatigued, and their Thoughts wandering and confufed. The Turns of Expreftion, and the Motions of the Body and the Arms, exadtly corref- pond and go hand in hand with one an¬ other; fo great is the Harmony with which they adt, that if the one is faulty it imme¬ diately affedts the other; for let the one of thefe Qualities be ever fo perfedt, it never can prevent the Difad vantage that arifes from a Defect in the other. And indeed, how can the Eyes of a Spectator, for Inftance, be agreeably entertained by the great or grace¬ ful Management of the Body or the Arms, 9? upon Declamation, &p. 23 or prepare themfelves to communicate to the Mind the Pleafure which (he ought naturally to feel, if at the fame Inftant his Ears (hall be ftruck with the Sound which gives his Mind a Senfation quite different from what fhe expected to receive from the Eyes ? In every Part of the Structure of the hu¬ man Body, from the greateft to the leaft, it is eafy to difcover the Finger of a Divine Operator in forming that Mafterpiece of the Creation. We fee it fo ordered by Nature, that all thefe Parts of our Body concur in the Art of Speaking. It is not fo with other Arts, not even in thofe that are mechanical. Painting *, for Inftance, employs only one Part * The Author in this Obfervation is too partial to his own favourite Art. Had he confulted the Hiftory of Fainting in his own Country, he would have found Painters, whofe Sen- fes were as much abftraCted by the Enthufiafm of their Art, as any Poet, Philofopher, or AS lor that ever was. And in¬ deed, according to the Principles which he himfelf has laid down, it requires as deep a Recollection of Imagination, and as thorough an Acquaintance with the Images impreft upon the Heart, to throw them out in Painting as it does in Poetry or ASling. Let any Man of Tafte or Genius but confider the Divine Enthufiafm that appears in the Figure of St. Paul preaching, in the Cartoons at Hampton- Court ; let him con¬ sider the Attention, the Recollection, and the Reverence of the Spectators: Let him look upon any other Piece in that Gallery, he will find in every one of them Expreilions which demonflrates that Raphael has poffeffed, befides the Talents of the fineft Painter that ever was, thofe that diftinguifh the beft Poets , Orators , and A Si ors. Vaflari, in his Lives of the Painters, informs us, that when llichael Angelo worked as a Statuary, he appeared to be quite an REFLECTIONS 24 Part of our Senfes; and when one paints he can fing, talk, hear, &c. The fame may be faid of the other Arts. In the Art of Ac¬ tion, even Rettecdion is forbidden; and if that Operation of the Soul, which is fo abfo- lutely Matter of our Will, (hall come athwart our Mind, and furprize us while we are fpeak- ing, fhe is forced back; becaufe the Intenfe- nefs of what we are about drives her out of our Head and difclaims her Company. Nor indeed are we Matters of our Refledion even in other human Operations, during which. Thoughts crowd upon one another againtt our Will. Here we may conclude that this Art, which as it were enchants cur whole Senfes, is almoft Divine; that our Soul is the Agent, and our Members and Organ the Minijiers fhe employs. I will therefore repeat it, that we can declaim only in the Accents of the Soul, and that without thefe there can be no Adicn. I an Enthufiaft, and not poTed of the fame Degree of E.eafon as other Men, and it has been a very general, and a very jail Obfervation of the moil eminent Painters, that when they wanted to give a ftrong Expreflion to any Paifion, their own Features involuntarily altered according to the P.eiem- biance they wanted to create. Cur Author’s Obfervations, though he confines them to A&ion, are applicable, not only to Painting and Statuary, but to Mufic, Archite&ure, and to every Art which has Beauty and "Truth for its Foundation. This Application in¬ deed can only be partial, but had our Author acknowledged it, it would have been fo far from difparaging, that it muii have done Honour to his Profefiion. upon Declaration, &c. 2 5 I have ellewhere obferved that the Thea¬ trical Objedts ought to be rendered very ftrong and ftriking, even tho’ the Rules of Nature fliould be a little tranfgreffed, that the Expreffion and Adtion may not be loft to fuch Spedtators as fit at a Diftance from the Stage. I fay the fame thing both with regard to the Pulpit and the Bar; but both the Speaker and the Player ought to do this with great Caution, and only to a certain Degree, left he difguft the Spedfators who are more near, by introducing too great a Deviation from Nature, and too ftrong an Inconfiftence with 'Truth. I (hall not take notice of the indifpenfable Neceflity of a proper Pronunciation, becaufe all the World is convinced of it; only I muft obferve, that the Man who cannot corredt the Vicioufnefs of habitual Dialedl, or defective Nature , ought never to adt in Public, becaufe he runs the rifque of exciting Laughter when he ought to draw Tears. In Ihort, to render the Propofition I have advanced about Declaiming in the Language of the Soul, on which the good or bad Sue- cefs of a Speaker depends, more intelligible, I (hall once for all take notice that this kind of Declamation is no other than one's feeling the thing he pronounces. I do not by this mean that which is commonly called Good Senfe in fpeaking, and an intelligible manner 26 REFLECTIONS in delivering, becaufe to feel is another thing; and in order to demonftrate it, I rauft make a Digreffion. It is certain that an Orator, when upon an important Point, ought to endeavour to work his Audience into a Perfwafion that he be¬ lieves what he advances. This is the whole of his Art. A Man commonly before he alters his Opinion is in fome doubt; he endeavours to inquire of himfelf whether the Change of his Sentiments is founded on Reafon, or upon the enchanting Delufion of the Speaker. The Speaker is therefore obliged in his own Vindication to prevent fuch a Sulpicion from gaining Ground in the Mind of his Audience, or the Judges. For this end he mull fpeak fo naturally as to force, as it were, the Spe&ators to believe every thing he is then faying, and that he fpeaks from the Heart. For if the Audi¬ ence, inftead of hearing, were to read what he delivers, they would infallibly prefume that, in composing it, a thoufand Arts and Subtleties had been employed to make it fucceed. On the contrary, that which feeps to be as it were poured forth Extempore, carries with it an Air of ’Truth and Sincerity , which prepofteftes the Audience in favour of every thing that is faid. If therefore a Speech is thus far juft to Nature, the Ulufion is then complete} and if it (hall be afterwards - printed, upon Declamation, See. 27 printed, the Juftnefs with which the Orator delivered it will be ftill admired, a Circum- ftance that is highly advantagious to his Character. If a Player in his Part fhall adt fo as to pcrfuade us that the Characters we fee are not fdlitious but real-, if a Counfel fpeaking for a Client fhall lucceed fo far as to convince the Judge and the Audience that it is the injured Perfon himfelf who petitions for Redrefs, or the Offender who pleads for Mercy; I repeat it again, the lllu- fion becomes then complete, then all that is faid is felt, and every thing paffes in the Language of the Soul. It is eafy to underftand that all I have faid of Speaking in general is applicable equally to prophane and facred Orators however I cannot difpenfc with touching more particu¬ larly on what regards the latter. As to the manner in which a Preacher ought to deliver himfelf, his Subjedf is too ferious not to make us fenfible that it ought to be expreffed in Accents fmple, indeed, but full of Dignity and always jujl. Among thofe who mount the Pulpit, a great many form themfelves upon Theatrical Adi ion without following that natural Method com¬ monly pradtifed at the Bar. Therefore I think it will be necefiary for us to examine this Theatrical Adlion, its Strength, and the Nature of its Accents , before we can decide whether 28 REFLECTIONS whether it is proper for the Pulpit. Except in Theatrical Declamation, (where every Period commonly begins or ends with an Elevation of the Voice) it mull be granted that Words, when protracted and drawled out with a Samenefs of Accent , as well as the Straining of the Voice, whether too vehe¬ ment or ill-judged, are the perfect Averfion of Nature. A manner of fpeaking different from what is pradtifed, either in Mufic or in Speeches, is required in Tragedy. A Law¬ yer therefore will never think proper to plead in the ftudied affeCted manner of Theatrical Declamation. Orators have in all Ages laid it down as a Maxim, that when they fpeak, it is as Man to Man, and that therefore they ought to communicate their Thoughts in no other Accents than thofe which are natural to Mankind. I am perfuaded that it has been a great Error of the French Divines in imagining true Theatrical Declamation to be fuch as is pradtifed in France. The great Bufinefs of the Stage is, as I have already faid, to enchant the Spectators into a Perfuafion that the Tra¬ gedy they are beholding is no FiBion, and that they who fpeak and adt are not Players, but real Heroes. But Theatrical Declamation in France has quite a contrary Effedt; the firft Words that are heard evidently perfuade the Audience that all is a Fiiton , and the Players upon Declamation, &c 29 Players (peak in Accents fo extraordinary, and To removed from Truth, that it is impof- lible for one to be impofed upon. Is this Theatrical Declamation then a proper Pat¬ tern for the Pulpit? No, furely. A prophane Orator is under no fuch (triCt Obligation to declaim according to Truth, and in the Ac¬ cents of the Soul, as a facred Orator is; and it is certain that a Preacher who (hall deliver a Sermon in the manner of a 'Theatrical De¬ clamation can never make himfelf be felt. It may be here objected, that if an AClor can touch the Paflions in a Tragedy, a Preacher may do the fame in a Sermon, if he is a per¬ fect Mafter of Theatrical Declamation. I anfwer in the Negative, and my Reafons are as follow: Moft Part of Spectators in France are inca¬ pable of dilcerning that which may be called the JuJlnefs of ASlion. They are early ac- cuftomed to Theatrical Declamation: Young People do not trouble their Heads much about Reafoning, and they grow old before they make any folid Reflections upon this Point. If an Audience thus difpofed is touched in feeing a Tragedy, it is becaufe they are under an habitual lllufon, in which Truth has no Share. All the World knows that CceJ'ar, Alexander, Hannibal, &c. were Men like us; and every Body is perfuaded that they felt their ftrongeft Paflions, and per¬ formed 30 REFLECTIONS formed their moil Heroic Actions in the famd manner as the great Men of our own Age; yet the very Spectators who are convinced of this, being prejudiced in their Youth in favour of the bombaft manner of Theatrical Declama¬ tion , form their Ideas of thefe Heroes accord¬ ing to the Appearance they make, as perfonated by Players: That is, as Men quite above the common Level of Mankind, with a manner of walking, fpeaking, and looking, different from the reft of the World. But according to thofe fictitious Ideas which the Spectators have adopted, and which deeply affeCt them, they form fo ftrong an Illufion, that they fuf- fer themfelves to be tranfported beyond Truth in every thing they fee and hear. If Players therefore touch others with the Part they reprefent in Tragedy, it is only becaufe by Habit the Audience reconcile themfelves to the unnatural Method of Declamation, and thus the EffeCt that it ought to produce, by degrees, wears off. For could they fee Na¬ ture and .Truth in their genuine Appear¬ ances, they would foon (hake off the Preju¬ dices of Cuftom. I (hall only give two In- ftances of what I have advanced here, which ought to be tranfmitted to Pofterity, and eternallv engraved upon the Minds of Play¬ ers. Whoever remembers to have feen Bet¬ terton, or Booth, in England^ muft readily own that the whole Houfe was touched by their fimple upon Declamation, &c. 3* Ample natural manner of A&ion; and Good Senfe dictates to us that we never feek for Pleafure in FiSlion when we can find it in j Truth, efpecially in a Profeflion fuch as that of a Player, which borrows its chief Excel¬ lencies from Nature herfelf. In France, when a Stranger goes to a Play- houfe for the firft time, he is extremely dif- gufted with their Theatrical Declamation. It is true that the univerfal Applaufe which their Adtors meet with, fometimes debauches them into the prevailing Tafte of the Coun¬ try ; but I have found at Paris a great many Frenchmen who never go to fee a Tragedy from an Averlion to this kind of Declamation, but it is an Averfion which prevails only with Men of great Genius and Tafte, who abhor, they fay, to fee Nature and Truth fo man¬ gled upon the Stage. How is it poffible then that fuch Declamation Ihould be a proper Pattern for a Preacher, who, if by a miftaken manner of Pronunciation he dilguifes the great Truths he delivers, may indeed con¬ vince the Reafon, but never can touch the Paflions, of his Audience ? A Grain of Falf- hood , if I may exprefs myfelf fo, will fowr a whole Lump of Truth , and the human Un- derftanding can never bear to fee them afto- ciated. It is likewife inconteftibly true that the general manner of Declaiming in a Preacher, tha’ REFLECTIONS 3 2 tho’ it ought always to be true and natural* yet ought ftill to admit of three different Diftindtions in its Character. One accom¬ modated to Sermons , one to Panegyrics , and one to Funeral Orations. Zeal , Admiration , and Grief, ought to regulate the manner in which thefe three Subjedts are treated, fo that the Speaker may always fuftain, and in his Difcourfe give the Predominance to that Manner which is mo ft fuitable to his Subjedt. It is eafily perceived that each of thefe three Manners, Zeal, Admiration , and Grief, does not exift- independant of the other, and that an Orator may have occafion to pradtife them all in handling the fame Subjedt. For Inftance, in a Sermon where Zeal ought to predominate, the Accents of Admiration and Grief, as well as other PafTions, are admitted according as the Thoughts, that fall in, re¬ quire. In the fame manner in Panegyric , where the predominant manner ought to be that of Admiration, at the glorious Adtions of the Perfon who is celebrated; all other Manners, fuch as Zeal and Grief may be employed as Occafion offers, and may even be indifpenlible. I fay the fame thing with regard to Funeral Sermons ; and tho’ it would feem that they are of the fame Nature with Panegyric, and that Admiration of the great Adfions of the Perfons who are celebrated to the Audience fhould have a large Share in upon Declamation, &c. 33 the manner of delivering them, yet here Grief ought to be the predominant Manner. For it is certain that tho’ the glorious A where alfo they exhibited the Armida , as an Entertain¬ ment during the Carnaval. The Theatre of St. Caffan adted at the fame the Opera of The¬ tis and Delens \ and in the Autumn the other Theatre exhibited that of Adonis , which had lb great a Run, that it was adted, without Interruption, from the Month of Ottober till Lent. In that fame Carnaval, which began the Year 1640, the old Theatre called St. MoJ'es’% the Foundation of which is unknown, exhi¬ bited the L' Arriane d’ Ottavio Rinuccini, which many Years before had been adted in the 47 7 ft? ITALIAN THEATRE. the Palaces of fome Italian Princes, and which, according to the Edition in 1608, is prior, by thirty two Years, to the Reprefen- tation I have juft now mentioned. I (hall not here pretend to enumerate all the different kinds of Operas which for thefe hundred Years have appeared upon the Vene¬ tian Stage; they would difguft the Reader, and fwell this Volume to an ufelefs Bulk: I fhall content myfelf to refer the Curious to a Book I have already quoted, which is a little Volume in Twelves, printed at Venice , enti¬ tled I’he Glory of Poetry anPMufc. This Book is a Catalogue containing two hundred and fixty eight Pages j the Bookfeller has added, by way of Appendix, a Lift of the Operas that have been prefented for that Year. This Book is printed without any Date, and began to appear in the Year 1730. One may eaftly judge how much Operas are in Fafhion at Venice , when he is told that at certain Seafons they play every Day, and in fix Theatres at the lame time. No Sovereign ever fpent fo much upon thefe Reprefentations as the Venetians have done, except perhaps Ranuce Farnefe , Duke of Parma , who amazed all Italy by the En¬ tertainments which he prefented in the Year 1690, on Occafion of the Marriage of his Son Prince Edward. The World yet talks of two Operas which he prefented, the one The ITALIAN THEATRE. 75 in the Night-time upon the great Stage of his Palace, and the other in the Day-time upon the great Bafon which he caufed to be built in his Gardens. It were to be wifficd that we could give an exaCt Detail of all the Machines which the fkilful Architects con¬ trived on that Occafiion; and of all the won¬ derful Reprefentations of that kind that have been executed at Venice , Rome , Naples , Flo¬ rence, and the other Cities of Italy. As to the Decorations and the Machinery it may be lafely affirmed, that no Theatre in Europe comes up to the Magnificence of the Vene¬ tian Opera j fome of them will be handed down to our mod diftant Pofterity; for In¬ dia nee, the Opera entitled The Divijion of the World , which the Marquis Guido Rangoni exhibited in the Year 1675 at his own Ex- pences, upon the Theatre of our Holy Savi¬ our. In the Shepherd of AmphiJ'e , which was prefented twenty Years after upon the Theatre of St. John Chryfojlome, the Palace of Apollo was feen to defeend of very fine and grand Architecture, and built of Chri- ftals of different Colours which were always playing ; the Lights which were placed be¬ hind thefe Chriftals were difpofed in fuch a Manner, that fo great a Flux of Rays played from the Machine, that the Eyes of the Spectators could fcarcely fupport its Bright- r.efs. The 76 The ITALIAN THEATRE. The two Bebietyias, thefe eminent Archi¬ tects and celebrated Painters now alive, have convinced all Europe , by their grand Decora¬ tions, that a Theatre may be adorned with¬ out Machinery, not only with as much Mag¬ nificence, but with more Propriety. Ma¬ chines produce a magical, or, if you will, a marvellous Effedt ; and we are often obliged to call to Mind the Contrivance of the Theatre, and that every thing that we fee is moved by Pulleys, Ropes, Springs, and Weights, in order to prevent our Senfes from being impofed upon, fo as to believe what]we fee is reprefented to be real. I (hall give one In fiance of fuch an Illufion. Cato of Utica is the Subjedt of an Opera prefented upon the Theatre of St. John Chryfojlome in the Year 1701. As Ccefar with his Army is fuppofed not to be far from that Scene where the Adtion is laid, and that the Inhabitants of the Province had prepared an Entertainment for him upon the Banks of the River, the Ground of the Stage repre- fents a Field, towards the Middle of wnich there was hung in the Air a Globe, refembling that of the World; this Globe was obferved by degrees to advance towards the Front of thfc Stage, to the Sound of Trumpets and other Inftruments, and all this without the Spedta- tors being able to difcern the Pulleys and Machines that diredted the whole. In the Moment fbe ITALIAN THEATRE. 77 Moment when it comes oppofite to Ccefar t it opens into three Parts, reprefenting the then three known Parts of the World. The Infide of the Globe fhines all with Gold, Precious Stones, Metals of all Colours, and contains a great Number of Muficians. Thus we fee what the Contrivance of a Theatre is capable of effecting, which is artfully to con¬ ceal the Pulleys and Springs j for by means of the firft Scaffold being built above the Stage, it is eafy to fuftain and conduct in the Air a Machine of what Weight you pleafe; and in fuch a Situation a Spectator Hands in need of his Reflexion, to put him in Mind that all is purely the EffeCt of the Machinery and Difpofition; but in the mean time this is what the Poet and the Mufician ought to endeavour to make him forget. Players by their Art fometimes imitate Nature fo perfectly, that they perfuade the Spectator that all they fee is real; but it is a much harder Talk forfthe Mufician to attain to this, it being much more difficult for them to accommodate their Notes to the Paffions of Anger, Grief, Sorrow, and even to Death itfelf. The Poet and the Engineer, far from encreafing thefe Difficulties by unnatural Decorations, ought to reprefent to the Specta¬ tors the molt elevated Ideas only with that Art which is mod proper to render them more fufceptible of the Impreffion that is to be 78 The ITALIAN THEATRE. be conveyed. The principal End of the Stage is Illufion, and that End can be ob¬ tained only by keeping to what is probable. As to the Italian Mulics, all Europe agree that towards the Middle of the laft Century it arrived at Perfection, and continued in that State to the Beginning of this. The Com- pofitions of Scarlati the elder, Bononcini, and many other excellent Mafters, are undif- putable Proofs of this. But thele twenty Years paft, the great Reputation it had ac¬ quired among Foreigners is a good deal di- minilhed, becaufe the Italian Tafte of Mufic is now changed. In fhort, at prefent it is all a Whim; Strength is fought inftead of beau¬ tiful Simplicity-, and Harfhnefs and Singu¬ larity is fubftituted inftead of the Exprejjion and Pnith which diftinguifhed the former Manner. The furprizing Capacity of their Singers, it is true, begets Admiration , but moves no Pajfion ; and Judges fay juftly, that it is unreafonable to force a Voice to execute what is too much even for a Violin or a Hautboy. This is the true Reafon why the Italian Mufic falls fo far fhort of Per¬ fection in Expreffion and I ruth, and why it is threatened with total Ruin if it Ihall con¬ tinue to deviate from that Manner which formerly brought it to Perfection. The new Manner however has got fuch Footing in Italy, that even Mafters in the Art are obliged fhe ITALIAN THEATRE. 79 in conformity to the general Tafte, contrary to their better Judgment, to deviate from the Simplicity and Greatnefs of the ancient Man¬ ner, both in vocal and inftrumental Perfor¬ mances. As to their Muficians, th e Italians, by their Method of manufacturing a Voice, have always a great Number of excellent Singers both with regard to the Finenefs of the Pipe, and their Skill and Tafte in Singing; fuch as Piftocco, Pafqualino,Siface,Mattecucio, Cortona , Luigino, and many others, whofe Memory the Muficians of our Days will fcarcely be able to efface. The Female-Performers have at all times difputed with the Males the Excel¬ lence of Singing. We may inftance, among thefe who have excelled for half the laft Cen¬ tury, Francifca Vainly Santa Stella, Pill a, Margaretta, Salicoli, Reggiana, with many others. But (he who in our Days retained the true Manner of Italian Excellence in Mafic, was the celebrated Cuzzoni every Body knows that in the Year 1724 (he fung with univerfal Applaule a Motet and a Pfalm compofed by Bononcini , in the Chapel of Fontainbleau. She fupported at London, for fix Years, the Glory of the Italian Nation, and was recalled thither in the Year 1734, notwithftanding the Bickerings and Divifions betwixt the Italian Theatres, Her Salary was about fifteen hundred Guineas a Year, 80 tibe ITALIAN THEATRE. as was that of Francis Bernards , known by the Name of Senejino , an excellent Muftcian, who never fuffered himfelf to be carried away by the Tafte for the new Mufic. But what is very extraordinary in Italy , and over all the World, he joined to the Charms of his Voice, the Merit of Action , and the Player was as accomplilhed as the Mufician. I ought not here to forget the famous Fau- jlina Bardoni AJfe, whofe Talents and Profits were equal to thofe of Cuzzoni, whom I have mentioned. It was owing to her extra¬ ordinary Capacity and her furprifing Com¬ mand of Voice, that Fauftina was obliged to invent a new manner of Singing. As fhe has been extremely well received all over Europe, many Attempts have been made to imitate her; but her Imitators having neither her Pipe nor her Art, have only fpoil’d their own Manner; and it is owing to this wretched Imitation that a bad Manner both of Singing and Compofition prevails now fo much in Italy , from whence it has been communi- ted to all Europe . I have chofen to fpeak of M. Carlo-Brof- chi , firnamed Farionelli , laft of all, both as he is the lateft and youngeft of the celebrated Italian Muficians. He fings in the Manner of Faujlina-, but it is owned by the beft Judges that he infinitely outdoes her, having brought his Art to the laft Degree of Per¬ fection The ITALIAN THEATRE, 81 fedtion. In the Year 1734 he was invited to London , where he lung three Winters with univerfal Applaufe. He arrived at Paris in 1736; and after he had fung in the moft eminent Families, where he was received and treated with great Diftindtion, the King did him the Honour to hear him perform in the Queen’s Chamber, and applauded him in a Manner that aftonilhed the whole Court, The Admiration he created was lo univerfal, that it is on all Hands agreed Italy never did, and perhaps never will, produce fo complete a Singer. He is now in Spain , and kept by the King and Queen to ling in their Cham¬ ber. That Prince by his Liberality, and the large Appointments he allows him, has com¬ pleted the Good-Fortune of M. Farinelli y who by his great Talents and perfonal Me¬ rits delerves all he enjoys. Formerly, the moft able and celebrated Mulicians at Venice received only one hun¬ dred Roman Crowns for performing for the whole Autumn and Carnaval; and if thier Appointments reached to one hundred and twenty Crowns, or fix hundred * French Livres, it was confidered as a Mark of great Diftindtion and a Proof of fuperior Merit. But for thele thirty Years paft, a fine Singer, G either * About 2 81. Sterling. 82 *he ITALIAN THEATRE. 'either Man or Woman, has always had up¬ wards of one hundred Golden Sequins, which is about 550 /. Sterling. SanSla Stella , Faujlina , Cufzoni and Farinelli , were all paid on this Footing} but thefe prodigious Expences have ruined all the Undertakers of the Opera at Venice , and drained the hea- vieft Purfes in Italy. On this Account, and in order to raife the vail Sums that are paid to their Performers, they have for fome Time pad retrenched their expenfive Machinery. Three Livres of Venetian Money gains Admittance into the Flail of the Opera, thirty Sols a Seat in the Pit, and the Boxes are in Proportion. If we compare thefe pool Receivings with the Expences that are ueceffary for fupporting the Magni¬ ficence of thefe Snows, we may eafily ac¬ count for the Lofl'es which the Under¬ takers of the Opera fuftaih ; it being im- podible, that for the four Months, during which thefe Entertainments lad:, the Re¬ ceiving fhould equal the Outgiving} for the Venetian Opera begins at fooneft in the Mid¬ dle of November , and continues only to the lad Day of the Carnaval. A? it is experienced all over Europe , and es¬ pecially in Italy , that the bed Performers, and the fined Voices cannot of themfelves pro¬ cure Succefs to an Opera, unlels its Mufic and Drama is good} and that on the con¬ trary. or even Faffs, yet we are flill able to account for the true Original State of the French Theatre. Ever fince the Year 1500 we meet with French Authors who have written in The FRENCH THEATRE. 109 in the Dramatic Way; and the Differtations on that Subject have never been difconti- nued for an Age together. As I own myfelf not very well qualified to give the complete Hiftory of this Theatre, I fhall content my¬ felf with giving the Reader a Hint of what they have copied from the Romans , and for that Purpofe go as far back in my Refearches as I am able. After I had ended thisTreatife in 1734, a Hiftory of the French Theatre appeared: And as that new Work obliged me to abridge mine, the Reader I hope will pardon me to take this Opportunity of publifhing my Remarks and Obfervations thereon. The Author of that Hiftory pretends that Comedy was re-eftablilhed in France by the *Troubadours about the twelfth Age ; but I don’t know on what he founds his Opinion: All that he fays upon that Head only (hews us the different Changes which Comedies fuffered before it was formed into a Thea¬ trical Reprefentation. All the Works of the ’Troubadours which he mentions, and which indeed don’t deferve the Name of Comedies, only ferved to give the French Nation gradual and more perfect Ideas of it. With regard to its Origin, I believe we may well raife it five hundred Years higher than the Epocha given it by this new Hiftory. In fpeaking of the Troubadours } that Au¬ thor no The FRENCH THEATRE. thor afl'erts that they were the Inventors of Comedies in Provence, and that among them there were fome who were called Comics, whom he would have us believe were Come¬ dians. It would feem that he has mifunder- ftood the Meaning of the Word Comic , which fignifies only a Fool or Buffoon. To prove this I need only tranfcribe that very Paffage of Nojlradamus quoted by that Au¬ thor with regard to Nouez , who died Anno 1220. “ That Poet (Cays Nojiradamus) was “ a good Comic , and went about among the “ Houfes of the Nobility finging, dancing, “ and making Geftures; by which, and by “ the other Geftures proper to a true Comic , “ he gained an immenfe Treafure.” This is an exadt Defcription of a Buffoon : And if in thofe Days the Buffoons met with greater Efleem than was due to that Cha¬ racter, it was becaufe they added to it the Merit of making Verfes, which they re- hearfed with fome Degree of Art. I believe he is no lefs miftaken when he fays, that in the twelfth Century they had Comedies and Tragedies in Provence, becaufe at that Time they had Pieces of Poetry whichwent under that Name: But how can he give the Name of Comedy to thofe Poems which by his own Confeffion (Page 13) refemhled rather Dialogues than Comedies? To which he afterwards adds, that by the Motion r The FRENCH THEATRE, hi Motion of the Body and Change of the Voice, Nojlradamus intends to defcribe the Art which Nouez had of reciting his Dialogues alone, fpeaking either with a Man’s or Wo¬ man’s Voice, or fhifting the Place, Gefture, or Air of his Countenance, almoft like Sofa in the Soliloquy of the Play of Amphytrion: Indeed thofe Qualities may be well taken for thofe of a Comic, i. e. a Droll, but not that of a Comedian. The trouvers, or troubadours, who com- pofed thofe different kinds of Poems, called them Songs, Sonnets, Sounds, Verfes, Words, Lays, Satyrs , Paf orals. Comedies, See. Now thofe two laft Titles can only belong pro¬ perly to Theatrical Pieces j and it is prefum- able that thefe above-mentioned were only Poems, or rather Dialogues, which (like feme others of that kind) had their Names from their Subject: Thus, for Example, thofe which treated of Shepherds and rural Plea- fures, were called Paftorals; thofe in Verfe full of Comical or Droll Lines, tho’ rehearfed only by one Perfon, were called Comedies. Perhaps thofe Authors called their Poems Comedies for the fame Reafon that Dante gave that Name to his Poem, (Comedy figni- fying Dialogue) tho’ we don’t look upon it as a Dramatic Poem. And even in the Epic, be- caufe the fourth Book of the Mneid is almoft entirely Dramatic, muft we for that Reafon call 112 The FRENCH THEATRE. call it a Tragedy? Perhaps the Provencals had no other Reafon to call their Comical Dialogues by the Name of Comedy. I think Paff'aroh five Poems ought not to be admitted among the Number of Tragedies: For properly fpeaking, they were no more than a Collection of Tragic Verfes, in which he introduced fome Perfon who rehearfed, declaimed, imprecated, or difcourfed with another, without the Form of Rep refen ta- tion, and only by one Actor, who it is faid varied his Voice and Gefture. The Plans of thole pretended Tragedies mentioned by the Author of the Hiftorv of the Theatres, are rather thofe of Hiftorical Facts, fuch as that of Joan Queen of Naples having four Huf- bands, taken Word for Word from Mezeray and Brantome 5 and it is very probable that Pajfarol compofed his Satyrical Verfes on thofe Facts, and afterwards named them Tragedies, becaufe according to him the Sub¬ jects were tragical; and thus, as I have al¬ ready obferved, all the Provencal Poems took their Names from the Subject, as is the Cut- tom of all other Countries at this Day. In order to prove what I have faid, I be¬ lieve I may fafely affirm that no Nation in Europe can fix the Date of their Theatrical Performances with any Certainty. And tho’ St. ‘Thomas Aquinas , who lived in the Begin¬ ning of the twelfth Century, doubted if Comedy The FRENCH THEATRE. IT 3 Comedy might be aCted without committing Sin, we muft not think that he meant written Comedy; for in his Time, and perhaps for feveral Ages after him. Extempore Comedy prevailed in Italy. The Spaniards indeed pre¬ tend that their Theatre is much older than that of Italy or France ; but I have already fhewn that they have no fure Ground for that AfTertion. In Hiftory I think we ought to bring certain Proof, and not conjecture for what is advanced, left we fhould impofe upon thofe who without duly weighing FaCts, take them upon the Credit of the Hiftorian; now of all the Parts of Literature, we are moil at a Lofs for the Hiftory of Theatres, and con- frequently Authors may more eafily impofe upon the Public on that SubjeCl. After all thofe Reflections, it mud be obferved, that from the Eftablifhment of the 'Troubadours until the Year 1384, our Au¬ thor brings no Proof that the French had either Theatres or Plays. What he has hi¬ therto called Provencal Comedies, are only the Rehearfals of Songs, or Dialogues, either Comical, Tragical, or Satyrical; and tho’ rehearfed by one Perfon in a Chamber, Court, or any other Place, they cannot be named Comedy, i. e. a Piece defigned for a Theatre. The Beginning of the French Theatre cannot therefore be fixed before the Year 1398, at which Time the Myftery of the I Pafiion ii 4 *he FRENCH THEATRE. Paffion was reprefented at St. Maur. By our Author’s inferring the Order of the Pro- vojl of Paris on that Subjedt, he endeavours to prove that the Reprefentation of the Myf- tery was begun long before the Year 1398, and indeed I am of his Opinion; but I can¬ not agree with him that thofe facred Repre- fentations that ufed to be made by Clergy¬ men or Laics in Church Porches, or even in Churches, can afcertain the Date of the French Theatre, which ought to begin from the Confraternity of the Paflion. By a Quotation which cur Author has taken from the eleventh Book of the Hiftory of the City of Paris, Page 523, he fays, that Anno 1313 Philip the fair gave a magnifi¬ cent Feaft, to which he invited the King of England ; and among the other Diverfions, the People reprefented divers Shews , fometimes the Joys of the Blejfed in Heaven, andfometimes the P uni foments of the Damned. The Author fays, that thefe Shews were Reprefentations rec ted by way of Dialogue. This I am willing to believe for once, and am only lorry that there is not one Pattern remaining of thofe Dialogues. In the Reprefentation of Hell what Crying, Howling, and Lamen¬ tation (hould we hear: On the contrary in Paradice we (hould behold nothing but Joy and Adoration. In fine, I mull beg Leave to tell this Author that I differ from him. The FRENCH THEATRE. 115 In my Opinion all that was nothing but Reprefentations in Figures, void of Dialogue of any kind. As that Feaft was made only for the Kings of France and England , is it likely that thefe two.great Kings, with their numerous Attendants, would ft^nd an Hour and an Half in the Street to fee thofe Repre¬ fentations? No, certainly ; for I believe they only looked at them as they palled, or at moft, flopped to hear an Angel or Devil rehearfc fome Lines, till they could have a fmall Notion of the Entertainment. Thefe figurative Reprefentations will not appear fo ftrange after reading the following Examples* In the Year 1690 I was in the City of Genoa on Corpus Chrijli Day: There they had feve- ral Theatres eredted in the Corners of the Streets through which the Proceffion of the Holy Sacrament was to pafs. On each of thefe was reprefented in living Figures a Myftery taken from the Old or New Fejla- ment. The moft remarkable of thefe was that which had been eredted without the Gate by the Filhersof the Town : The De¬ coration reprefented the Sea with the Shore at a Diftance: There appeared Jefus Chrift, as he is defcribed by the Evangelifts when he ordered his Apoftles St. Peter t St. John , &c. to throw their Nets into the Sea; and when they anfwered that they had been toil¬ ing all Night to no Purpoie, Chrift com- I z manded ii6 57 %e FRENCH THEATRE. manded them to let fall their Nets on the other Side of the Veflel: All this was per¬ formed by Action and Gefture without Speech. The Adtors chofe to delay drawing the Net till the Sacrament was paffing by the Stage ; then they took them up, and found them full of a great Number of the moft delicious and rare Fifties, which had been catcbed feveral Days before, and kept alive in Water for that Purpofe. In the City of Naples, at the Feaft of the Holy Sacra¬ ment, they alfo exhibit Shows of this kind, viz. Our Saviour on the Crofs on Mount Calvary accompanied with the bleffed Vir¬ gin, Mary Magdalen, the other Mary, and all the reft of that Myftery. To do that with the greater Propriety, they make Choice of fuch Women and young Girls as can befl: reprefent the Adtion, and who have Habits proper for the feveral Perfonages. In moft of the Cities of Flanders , on certain Feftivals they have Chariots carrying Stages through the Streets; on fome of them they /have Gardens and Pyramids: On thefe Theatres they have Adtors who perform all in dumb Shew. The Subjedt is commonly taken from the Old or New Feft ament, or allegorical Objedts of Piety. Thefe Feafts they call Carmeffes. I was afifured by a Gentleman of that Country, that on Chrijlmas-Day he had leen a the FRENCH THEATRE. ii 7 a Toilet fet where the Proceffion of the Sacrament was to flop firft: Before it was placed a fine Lady adorned with Jewels and Precious-ftonesj fhe fat adjufting her Drefs, and putting on her Patches until the Hofh refted : After that, fhe rofe up all of a fud- den, pufhed away the Toilet, and kneeled down before the Sacrament. When it was taken up again, fhe followed it, beating her Bread: until the fecond Reft, where fhe alfo fell down upon her Knees with great Com¬ punction, fhewing all the Signs of true Re¬ pentance ; fhe next pulled off all her Jewels and Drefs, and remained in the Habit of a Penitent. In that Condition fhe followed the Proceffion, fetching heavy Sighs and Groans, and fhedding Tears in fuch a man¬ ner as drew them alfo from all thofe who faw her. Is not this one Action followed through all its Forms ? In an Electoral City of Germany they commonly ereCt a Theatre in the Cathedral Church on one of the Days of the holy Week, reprefenting the Garden of Olives, where Chrift after returning from Prayer found his Difciples afleep. All this is done by living Perfons: And he that reprefents Chrift, goes three times and awakes the Apoftles, and as often returns to Prayer: In a word, we may there fee a complete I mage of what happened in the Garden of Olives. I 3 All si8 The FRENCH THEATRE. All this Action is performed in Dumb Shew and Pantomime. After thefe Examples, I think I had Reafon to affirm, that the Re- prefentation of Heaven and Hell, which I have mentioned, was but figured Reprefen- tations, and executed in the fame manner with thofe I have been relating. If we believe the Author of this Hiftory, the firft Comedies that were added in France were thofe of Provence , and begun Anno 1198; if (I fay) we believe him, how is it poffible that 200 Years afterwards, when the Mylleries of the Paffion were firft re- prefented at St. Maur , there fhould be fo much Simplicity and Ignorance in thofe Theatrical Reprefentations ? Indeed it is highly improbable, as I have already obferv- ed, that at the Diftance of two Ages after iheReprefentation of the * Provencal Come¬ dy, the fame Ignorance fhould continue fo long without the leaft Improvement either in Provence or Paris. For furely if it were true that the Troubadours had added Co¬ medy, and PaJJ'arol Tragedy, we fliould not have * In the Reprefen tation of the Myfleries , the Theatre reprefented Paradice, Hell, Heaven, and Earth all at once; and tho’ the Adtton varied, there was no Change of the Decorations. After an A6tor had performed his Part he did not go off the Stage, but retired to a Corner pf it> ai*4 fat there in full View of all the Spe&ators. 7 he FRENCH THEATRE. ii 9 have been fo much at a Lofs concerning the Origin of the French Theatre. I would not however infer from thence that Dramatic Poems began to appear in France only in that Year wherein the Myfte- ries of the Paffion were exhibited at St. Maur-y on the contrary I am perfuaded, that thofe Myfteries, fuch as they were then repre¬ fented, void of all kind of Order or Principle in the Compofition, could not be the firft which were reprefented at Paris. They muft at lead for fome time before have repre¬ fented either facred or prophane Plays in par¬ ticular Places, Crofs-ways, &c. but thofe Actions (if we confider their Nature) can never be fufficient to eftablifh the Epocha of the French Theatre. However that may be, the Myfteries reprefented at St. Maur (I re¬ peat the Aflertion) will be found to be the firft Exhibition of that kind that appeared in France. I know no Author who gives us the leaft Hint of any older Theatre, and every other Method we (hall ufe to afcertain it, muft be vain, ill-founded, and conjectural, With regard to the Origin of Comedy in France, I think we may believe their Hifto- rians, who tell us, that feveral Writers eredted Theatres whereon they a died Pieces of their own. We have alfo Authorities which prove, that in the Reign of Charles the Great, the Councils of Mayence, Tours, Rheims and I 4 Chalons , 320 The FRENCH THEATRE. Chalons , prohibited the Clergy from affifting at -f- Farce-Plays, and the King ratified the Order of the Council by an Ediit which was publilhed in the Year 813. Hence we know that the Comedy which had been difi- ufed among the Romans , had been renewed in France and Italy by Strollers and Firce- Plavers, who ailed in the Streets and other public Places. We fee that to thofe Shows which by an Ediit of Charles the Great were declared £ obfcene and infamous, fuc- ceeded the Troubadours, jongleurs , and others wh6 rehearfed, or rather fung Scraps of Hiftory, Gallantry, and Satyr: And after thofe T mibadours had fallen into Contempt, and were even banifhed the Court of || Phi¬ lip Auguftus , they found Means to eftablifh themfelves again in that very Reign, and ob¬ tained Apartments in one particular Street of the City, which from them was called La Rue de Jongleurs, now Menetriers. From that Time they only were paid at Feafts and Aflemblies. But we learn by two Orders of the Provoft of Paris, from the Year 1341 to 1395, that they were prohibited from fpeaking. f The Farce Players were even then held to be infamous Perfons, and none were allowed to bring them before a Court of Juftice. See Marre's Treatife ol Policy, Vol. I* Page 433, fcfa. + Hijirionum turpium & obfcenorum infolentias jocarum, See • |i Rigor fc Gejl % Philip. 548 or 49, the 2d of the Reign of Henry II. There mud therefore be fome other Reafon which hindered the Eunuch of M> Baif * Printed at Far is, Anno 1733. from c. they were therefore ftill obli¬ ged to recal the French Dancers; but at prefent the Italian Nobility who travel, and who formerly were enchanted with the Dancing in the Opera at Paris, are not only no longer furprized, but pretend that their own Coun¬ try can boaft a Preference in this Science. This appears to me fo much the more unrea¬ lizable, becaufe when they are afked in what the Excellency of their Dancing confifts, they anfwer, that for one top Dancer at Paris , they have a Dozen in Italy of equal Excel¬ lency ; from whence I conclude, that the pre¬ fent Method of Dancing is neither the belt nor the moft difficult, as it can be fo eafily imitated by Strangers, who never could have done it, had it been more fimple and full of native Graces. PARALLEL 154 PARA LL E L, &c. PARALLEL Between the Italian, Spanifh , and French Theatre. H E S E three Theatres, of which I JL have given a (hort Hiftory, were with¬ out Difpute the firft that Europe faw. The Original of the Stage in Spain and in Italy is, as I have already remarked, wrapt up in fo thick a Veil of Obfcurity, that to diflipate it feems to me next to impoffible, or to de¬ cide, for Certainty, which of them gave a Model to the other. On the one hand, the old Italian Plays leave us in the dark as to the Time in which they appeared; on the other, no Spanijh Play which I have met with bears Date before the Year 1500, which would induce me to believe it to be later than the other, did not the Spaniards aflert the contrary, tho’ without advancing one Proof to fupport their Affertion. We (hall therefore leave to thefe two Nations the Plea- furc PARALLEL, &c. 155 fure of contending for the Antiquity of their Stages. The Italians in their firft Theatrical Per¬ formances imitated, perhaps too fervily, Plau¬ tus and Terence: They however laid afide in their Plays the Cuftoms and Man¬ ners of the ancient Romans , which agreed not at all with the Age they lived in. The Amours of the young Gentlemen with the Slaves, or with the Ladies of Pleafare, were commonly the Subjects of the Latin Pieces. The Italians copying after them, and think¬ ing Licentioufnefs to be a neccffary Quality in Comedy, fubftituted Intrigues with mar¬ ried Women, Tricks of Monks, Traffics of Procurers, and in ffiort the moft fcandalous and criminal Adts of corrupted Manners. In this they committed an inexcufable Fault. In vain do they pretend that they aim at cor- redting Licentioufnefs, for when it is repre- fented on the Stage, that Gaynefs and Loof- nefs, with which it is accompanied, is apt to debauch the Minds of the Spedlators; and even the Heart that is leaft corrupted is highly offended at it; for which Reafon Pru¬ dence ought to prevail with the Dramatic Writers to expofe and cenfure only the Ridi¬ culous, the Images of Vice being too dange¬ rous. When the Italian Stage amended as to Scandal, it funk in Genius and Tafte, which makes it neceffary, in reading their Comedies, 156 PARALLEL, Gfr. Comedies in that L nguage, to be acquainted with thefe licentious Pieces. The Spaniards, on the contrary, repre- fented nothing in their Comedies but honour¬ able Love between unmarried People. The Cuftoms, by Jealoufy, introduced into Spain , afford room for Intrigue in thefe fort of Sub¬ jects, which in another would produce a Play fo uniform, as to be for the moft Part void of any Adtion, The romantic Point of Ho¬ nour, by which the Spanijh Nation may be charadterifed, fills up great Part of their Theatrical Works. Their Servants fpeak not fo freely by far, as in Italy ; but to make up for that, it is not unufual to hear them imprecating and fwearing by the whole Catalogue of Saints. The Mixture of the Sacred and Prophane is very frequent in the Los Autos Sacrament ales, of which I have fpoken. There is one in particular, entitled Le Chevalier de St. Sacrement. In this Co¬ medy we fee a Church on Fire, fo as they defpair of extinguifhing it. A Chevalier runs into the Flames, and returns with the Hofl in his Hand. This Adtion, which eliewhere would perhaps be condemned, paflfes in Spain for a moft refpedtful Mark of Zeal, and the Spedtators are at once edified and affedled. In thefe Sort of Entertain¬ ments, Farce has its Share, which muft be difagreeable to every Man of Senfe: But, to PARALLEL,^. 157 take it in the whole, the Spanijh Stage is that which with the moft Eafe may be chaftifed into the pureft Decency. As to France , if the did not produce Works for the Theatre fo early as the other Countries, (he was not very flow in following them, but much more late in arriving at Per¬ fection. Tragedy itfelf was not exempted from Licentioufnefs. Rotrou began the Re¬ formation, which was accompliflied foon after by Corneille. * Moliere is the firft that brought Good Manners upon the Stage, tho’ imperfectly. They who immediately fuc- ceeded him have been more loofe than he. But during the Space of thirty Years, the French Stage has inceflantly refined itfelf from that Fault, the Praife of which is due to the Audiences at Paris: It is owing to them that their Poets are checked, by denying their Applaufe to every thing that bears an Air of Indecency. We fee Rife given to Theatrical Reprefentations of a new Kind, the Traces of a Model of .which we may difcern in the Spanijh Theatre, and fome few in the Italians , but both very imperfect. There are Characters in the World of too low * We don’t know if a difcerning Reader will agree with our Author in this Criticifm, fmce it is certain that as to Decency of Character Molitre has been improved upon by few of his Succeffors. 158 PARALLEL,^ low a Station for Tragedy, and yet too high to defcend to that kind of Drollery required by Comedy. They accommodate an Action fuitable to thefe Characters, and work it up with moving Circumftances, which occafion an agreeable Entertainment; and in its Con- fequences this kind of Comedy may a good deal injure Tragedy, but it carries the Cataftrophe infenfibly to that Point where Religion and Decency requires it fhould terminate. This Kind, as it had its Beginning but lately, is as yet imperfeCt; for when the Circumftances of the Piece are as moving as thofe of Tragedy, the Mixture of low Hu¬ mour which interpofes, drives from our Minds that Concern which we are rea¬ dy to indulge. But it is eafy to amend this Deficiency, and fome bright Genius will doubtlefs raife this new kind of Writing to Perfection -f». In the moft affeCting Subjects we may fuftain ■\ My Work was fin idl’d when VEcote des Amis, wrote by Mr. De la Chauffee , one of the Members of the Trench A- cademy appear’d. That Piece may ferve as a Model for Produ&ions of this kind. Some however have fo far mifta- ken it, as to pronounce it a Comedy writ in the Manner of the incomparable Moliere ; and not finding his comical Turn in it, (which indeed ought to have no Place in a Work of its kind) have fpoke too contemptibly of it, and by that means have brought a greater Slur upon their own Judg¬ ments than upon the Piece itfelf. PARALLEL,^. 159 fuftain a Dignity of Humour which may arife from the Subject itfelf but this is a Perfection only attainable by a fertile Genius. The modern Authors will, without doubt, endeavour to perfect this Species of Comedy, fearing left they be reproached by the World, of having embraced this Kind, out of De- fpair of attaining to the Sublime of Corneille , or the Humour and Wit of Moliere. In ftiort the French Theatre will 'fuftain its Glory, and every Day increafe it, becaufe it produces Entertainments of a new Sort, when the Audience are tired with a Repe¬ tition of the old ones. THE THE ENGLISH THEATRE. F the Commencement of the Englifj Theatre was not fo early as the others, it feems to have followed foon after. The Origin of the firft Dramatic Reprefentations in England had the fame Rife with thofe of Italy, Spain , and France ; I may venture to fay that they copied from the Mi mi of the Latins , while like Vaga¬ bonds they travelled up and down the Coun¬ try without Referve and without Shame. In the Reign of Edward III, which began in 1015, and ended in 1038, it is faid in a Book printed at London , that that good King ordained by Adi of Parliament, that a Com¬ pany of Men called Vagrants, who had made MaJ'querades throughout the whole City, Jhould be whipt out of London, becaufe they repre- ented J'candalous Things in the little Alehoufes , The ENGLISH THEATRE. 161 and other Places where the Populace a [Jem- bled. There is good Reafon, tho’ no Certainty, for believing that thefe fcandalous Amule- ments were of long (banding in the City of London , but were over-looked by all preced¬ ing Kings. The fame happened in France in.the Time of Charlemagne-, and the Sta¬ tutes published by thefe two good Kings con¬ ceal the Original of the Drama in thefe two Nations. After fo pofitive and rigorous a Decree in England, nothing that had the lead Refem- blance of a Play could appear in London , or the reft of the Kingdom, unlefs difguifed beneath the Veil of Religion. It was there¬ fore by thefe facred Reprefentations that the Theatre began to form itfelf in London, as before it had done in Paris. We find in a Book called The * Antiqui¬ ties of London, that under Richard II, who reigned in the Year 1378, the Clergy and the Scholars of St. Paul’s School prefented a Petition to the King, praying his Majefty, To prohibit a Company of unexpert People from prejenting the Hijlory of the Old Tefta- ment, to the great Prejudice of the J'aid Clergy , who have been at great Charge and Expe?ice, in order to reprefent it publickly at Chriftmas, M It • S TQW'i. 162 the ENGLISH THEATRE. It is therefore in thefe Times that we can fix an Epocha for the Moral Reprefentations of the Old tejlament in the City of London. We cannot fay, however, that they began precifely in that Year when the Petition, we mentioned before, was prefented. They might perhaps have been introduced a long time before; I am led to think thus by thefe Words made ufe of in the Petition, A Com¬ pany of unexperl People. Had not the Clergy and the Boys of St. Paul's School been long exercifed in Affairs of this Nature, and ufed to give fuch Reprefentations to the People, they would not have filled Perfons, who undertook to reprefent the like, unexpert. But as no Englifh Hiftorian, or other learned Perfon have treated this Subject ex profeJfo t it is not poflible to clear it from that Obfcu- rity in which it is left. We muft therefore content ourlelves with eftablifhing its Epocha in the Year 1378, and faying, that the Ufe of thefe holy Reprefentations infenfibly led them to the prophane Theatre. Richard II reigned twenty two Years, till the Year 1399. Suppofing that the Boys of St. Pauls School prefented their Petition the fame Year that the King died, yet the fame Petition lets us know, that the Boys had played thefe Myfieries feme time before, and that for Money. And we know the Fraternity of the PaJJion did not begin to adt at The ENGLISH THEATRE. 163 at St. Maur before 1398. ^ is therefore evident that the Eftablilhment of a public Theatre in England was before that in France. I do not believe that the Englijh preceded the French in the adting of Myfte- ries, which were in France many Years be¬ fore the Reprefentation at St. Maur ; and much lefs Ground have we for difputing with the Englijh their being the firft that expofed their Entertainments publickly, and for Money. The Englijh Chronicles Jpeak of a pro- phane Reprefentation, which is commonly in that Country laid to be the firft they had. Thefe * Chronicles fay, that The jth Day of May 1520, the King cauj'ed a Mafquerade to be prepared, and or¬ dered a Stage to be raifed in the Great Hall at Greenwich, &c. The King, Queen, and Nobility came there to the RepreJ'entation of a good Comedy of Plautus. We are therefore to believe that from the Year 1378 to 1520, no prophane Farces appeared at London either mixt with the fa- cred, or diftindt from it, as happened in France. And if really that Good Comedy of Plautus was the firft that appeared, we muft yield to the Englijh the Merit of hav¬ ing opened their Stage with a good prophane Piece, whilft the other Nations in Europe began theirs with the moft wretched Farces. M 2 The * HMngJbed* 164 The ENGLISH THEATRE. The fame thing may be faid with regard to Tragedy, the firft of which was played be¬ fore Queen Elizabeth ; and we find in the Appendix to the Lives of the Englijh Dra¬ matic Poets, that “ The Lord Buckhurjl , afterwards Earl “ of Dorfet, writ, in Conjunction with Mr. “ Norton , a Tragedy, valued in thole Days, “ of which there were three Impreffions. “ The Title to the firft Edition is Forrex * c and Porrex printed in 8vo. at London in “ 1565 by G. G” The fecond Edition was printed by Con- fent of the Authors with this Title, “ The “ Tragedy of Forrex and Porrex without “ Augmentation or Diminution, as it was “ aCted before the Queen nine Years ago,” that is, on the 18th of January 1565, by the Gentlemen of the Inner-Temple , printed in 8vo. at London. The Title of the third Edition is, “ The “ Tragedy of Gorbeduc , of which three ACts “ are written by Thomas Norton , and the “ other two by Thomas Sackville , publilhed “as it was prefen ted before the Queen in “ the Inner-Temple, printed in 4m. in Lon- * don 1590.” In this laft Edition -f* the En¬ glijh Writer lets us know that they changed the f A Miftake : For Buckburfi was called SacAville, The ENGLISH THEATRE. 165 the Title and the Name of one of the Au¬ thors : I can’t imagine for what Reafon. Thus we fee the firft perfedfc Comedy and the firft perfedt Tragedy of the Englijh y which gives not a little Glory to that Nation. The Perfedtion of the Comedy is not to be queftioned, feeing it was one of the good Comedies of Plautus. But as to the Tra¬ gedy I don’t know, if upon the foie Report of that Writer, who fpeaks in its Praife, and is influenced by its great Reputation , if we may form the fame Opinion of it, and im- plicitely rely upon the Judgment of that Age. It was the firft Tragedy that had appeared in that Country. The French , their Neighbours, could fhew them »o Ori¬ ginal fit to copy after, becaufe what they had were very low. And Italy , whofe Theatre had attained to the higheft Pitch of its Glory, was at too great a Diftance for Eng¬ land to imitate. We may therefore doubt of the Perfedtion of this firft Engliflj Tragedy; and altho’ in that Age it might have been accounted excellent, yet might it not be fo in reality: We {hall form abetter Judgment of this in profecuting the Hiftory of their Theatre. In the Life of Shakefpear prefixed to his Works, we read that “ in the Year 1590 there were profefled Comedians in London , but they had no eftablifhed Theatre, and played no M 3 Tragedies, 166 Tie ENGLISH THEATRE. Tragedies, for then they had no Idea of them in London .” Tho’ this is fpeaking very pofitively, yet it appears to be falfe, becaufe Tragedy was known in the former Part of that Reign, if that, of which we have given an Account, was adted. It is not to be thought that in the Space of twenty five Years which had paffed fince Gorbeduc appeared, all Re¬ membrance of it could be effaced j the three Editions which I have mentioned were cer¬ tainly fufficient to preferve its Memory. Wherefore I think that to judge rightly of this, we fhould conclude that Tragedy was unknown in E)igland , becaufe Gorbeduc was the only one, and it not having been adled in Public, but confined to the Court, the com¬ mon Players not having a Relifh for it, per¬ haps this kind of Dramatic Poetry was un¬ known till Shakefpear' s Time. William Shakefpear for a fmall Trip of Youth was obliged to leave the Country and come up to London , where he commenced Player. He was bleffed with Genius and Capacity; and wrote a £ Comedy much liked by Queen Elizabeth. She, to exprefs her Regard for Shakefpear , granted a Patent to the Comedians, declared them her Servants, and formed them into a Company, with pro¬ per X The Merry Wives of Windfor. The ENGLISH THEATRE. 167 per Appointments, and the Ufe of a Thea¬ tre. In the Year 1596 Shakefpear , at the Age of thirty three, gave the World his firll Tra¬ gedy of Romeo and Juliet ; and the Year after he produced Richard II. James I, who fucceeded Queen Elizabeth , by a Licence confirmed the Privileges of that Company of Comedians: He named nine new Adors, and (tiled them his Servants. This Licence is conceived in Terms, Part of which I think neceflary to repeat j it fays towards the End, “ And we permit them to ** perform the faid Plays, Tragedies, Inter- “ ludes. Moral Pieces, Paftorals, Stage- “ Plays, and fuch like in Public, and for “ their greater Advantage, (when the Infection “ of the Plague (hall ceafe) as well in our “ Houfe called the Globe , in our County of “ Surry , as in the Cities, Halls, Public “ Places, or any other privileged Place, and “ in any Borough of our faid Kingdom.” In this Licence of James I. two Things are remarkable. In 1603, when it was pub- lifhed by the King, the Englijh Comedians performed allthefe feveral kind of Theatrical Reprefentations, that we find mentioned in their Charter: This Theatre therefore mult have been of long (landing, fince all the dif¬ ferent kinds of Dramatic Poems were then known, which could not be expeded in the M 4 Pradice 368 The ENGLISH THEATRE. Pradice of twenty or thirty Years. Mention in the Licence is likewife made of public Places, and which lets us fee that in England , as w r ell as in France , they ufed upon Scaffolds to play as well moral as prophane Plays. Plays being twice mentioned, firft fingly, and a little lower with the Addition of Stage- Plays, leads us to know that two Species of Comedy are fpoken of: Thus making appa¬ rent Diftindion between thofe that were played in public Places, and thofe played on an eftablifhcd Theatre. We are therefore forced to conjedure, that during the two hundred Years from 1378, moral Reprefen- tations and prophane Farces had been per¬ formed, and that they were at leaf! tolerated by the Kings, tho’ not licenced by their Au¬ thority. Before Shakefpear embraced the Profefiion of a Player, there was a Theatre in London , that is to fry. Dramatic Performances had been exhibited there for a long time. It is true that little Mention is made of it, only in the Life of that Poet we read, that to him we owe Ben. Johnfon , who by his Encouragement writ his Comedies. Thus by thefe two Poets, the greateft that their Age or Country ever produced, England is enabled to fix the Epocha of her Theatre. It is furprifing that Tragedy firft rofe in England by every Horror that human Ima¬ gination ENGLISH THEATRE. 169 gination can fuggeft, and that the Tafte for it ftill remains, notwithftanding the Attempts of fome Authors, who have endeavoured to give it another Turn. I have examined into the Reafon of it, and tho’ I may be mifta- ken, yet fhall I always fpeak what I think. It ought not to be queftioned that the chief Aim of a Dramatic Writer is to pleafe the Spectators, and that to do this, he muft be acquainted with the Bent of their Inclina¬ tions. When the Poet fancies he has attained to that Knowledge, he ftudies to fet before them Images and Actions fuitable to the Tafte of that Nation for which he writes. When that is fuppofed, it muft be granted that Theatrical Pieces let us into the general Character of their feveral Countries, and that without any other Light than what is ftruck out of the ancient and modern Plays, we might judge that the Grecians were violent and given to Pleafure ; that the Romans were fenfual, but always with an Air of Gran¬ deur; With the Romans we may rank the Italians , with fome little Difference; we may fay that the Quality of the Spaniards is a noble Bravenefs, that they are punctilious, and myfterious; and the French , on the other hand, are witty, airy, and gay to Excefs: And of all thefe different Characters, I don’t know if any is far diftant from Truth. One there^- i 7 o the ENGLISH THEATRE. therefore might be tempted to believe from Shakefpears prefenting to them the mod hor¬ rible ObjeCts, that the Engiijh are cruel, inex¬ orable, and next to inhuman, whereas indeed nothing is lefs true. The Engiijh are gentle, humane, extremely polite, but generally pen- five to Excels. It is this laft Quality that forms their general Character, as their own Writers'agree. Let us proceed. The Engiijh Dramatic Poets have, beyond Imagination, ftained their Stage with Blood j of this I fhall give you two Examples only. In the Tragedy of Hamlet , five principal Cha¬ racters die violent Deaths during the ACtion. About the middle of the Play we fee the Fu¬ neral of a Princefs; the Grave is dug on the Stage, out of which are thrown Bones and Skulls: A Prince comes then and takes up a Skull in his Hand, which the Grave-digger informs him was the Skull of the late King’s Jefter; he makes a moral Diflertation upon the Skull of the Jefter, which is reckoned a Mafter-piece: The Audience liften with Admiration, and applaud with Tranfport: And it is for that Scene that the major Part of the Spedtators refort to the Play-houfe when Hamlet is performed. In the Tragedy of the Moor of Venice, among other Things, the Moor inflamed with Jealoufy, goes to fearch for his Wife, who lies awake in Bed; he fpeaks with her, and after ftrong Conflicts between f their ancient Theatre is, that which they call Vertoning (the Reprefentation); they let down the Curtain in the midft of an Adt, and range the Actors upon the Stage, fo that they reprefent, after the Manner of Pantomimes, fome principal Adtion of the Subjedt. Thus in Gyjbrecht van Aemjlel, they lift up the Curtain, and on the Stage are reprefen ted the Soldiers of Egmond, Enemy to Gyjbrecht , who fack a Convent of Nuns, where every Soldier has one, whom he ufes at his Difcretion : The Abbefs is ftretched out in the midft of the Theatre, holding on her Knees the venerable Gofwin, the exiled Biffiop of Utrecht, maffacred in his Pontifical Robes, his Mitre or his Head, and the Crofs in his Hand, 18 8 Flemijh and Dutch TH EATRE S. Hand. At the End of the Siege of Leyden there are eight or ten living Emblems to reprefent the Weight cf the Spanijh Tyranny, the Valour of the Dutch, Religion triumphant, Adis re-ellablifhed, &c. There are upon the Stage upwards of three hundred Perfons, and an Adtrefs, with a Wand in her Hand, ex¬ plains them to the Spedlators, who appear aftonilhed: We may fay that really this makes a beautiful Show. The Dutch Spedlators, befides the Maffa- cres and Blood, have adopted, and have a Tafte for, the Marvellous and Extraordinary : For Example, they adt a Tragedy, where we feeaPrincefs who has before her on a Plate her Lover’s Head cut off; fhe lets herfelf down to write, and addreffes her Words to the Head, who anfwers her. In another Tra¬ gedy, Circe defigning to deftroy the Confi¬ dent of Ulyjfes, with whom Ihe was difpleafed, orders a Procefs to be begun againft him: The Criminal is brought before the Court which Circe had conftituted for that Pur- pofe: The Lyon is the Prefident, the Mon¬ key the Regifter, the Wolf, the Fox, and other Animals are Counfellors, and the Bear is the Hangman. They condemn the Con¬ fident of Ulyjfes , and hang him immediately without letting him gooff the Stage: After the Execution, all the Members of him that was hanged, fall Piece by Piece into a Well, which Flemijh and Dutch THEATRES. 189 which is beneath the Gallows. Ulyjjes comes upon the Stage and complains to Circe , who, touched at his Grief, makes him that was hanged come forth from the Well alive and entire as he was before. They are very curi¬ ous about their Machines and their Flights. When a Man is to fly, a Rope is hung down with a Stirrup at the End of it; the Ador puts one Foot in it, takes hold of it with one Hand, and then comes down from the Height of the Theatre. Their Theatre becomes every Day more exad, and they banilh all thefe ancient Pieces, excepting fome few, which are as it were confecrated by long Cuftom. For Example, the Siege of Leyden is a died every Year on the 3d of OSlober , Gyjbrecht van Aemftel on Chriftmas-Eve ; and each of thefe Pieces is played every Year five or fix times running, to fatisfy the greedy Curiofity of Peafants, inferior Burghers, old People, Servants, and Children. From the Year 1561, which is the Epocha of their moft ancient Comedy, until the Year 1638, the Nation counts forty Poets. He who firft wrote with any Regularity for the Theatre was Peter Cornelius Hooft , Son to a Burgo-Mafter of Amfierdam , a learned Man, diftinguifhed by the Name which they give him of the Dutch Tacitus, Author of a Hiftory of the Republic, and of the Hi- flory 190 Rlemijh and Dutch THEATRES. ftory of Henry IV, which was liked fo much at that Time, that Lewis XIII. ennobled him, and gave him the Order of St. Michael. Hooft had Talents for Poetry, he was a Member of the Society of Rhetoricians at Amjlerdam. His Hiftorian Brandt remarks that he improved that Society very much ; and giving himfelf wholly up to Poetry before he wrote his Hiftory, lie compofed many Pieces, very regular for that Time. We have of him four Tragedies and three Comedies. The firft, which is Achilles and Polyxena , is dated in the Year 16205 and thus he preceded by above fifteen Years the famous Vondel of whom I fhall now fpeak. Vondel, furnamed the Dutch Virgil and Seneca , began to write for the Theatre in 1638, when he gave a Tragi-Comedy, in ti¬ tled PaJ’cha. His Theatrical Pieces are printed in two Volumes 4to. which contain thirty Tragedies; the firft Volume has fix- teen on facred Subjects, and the fecond four¬ teen prophane ones, five of which have been corrected fince the Year 1700, according to the Tafte of the modern Theatre. The Palamede of Vondel pafies for a Mafter- piece: It is an allegorical Piece, which couches a Satire on the Stadtholderftiip of Prince Maurice , and a Panegyric on Barne - velt, ,>vhom that Prince brought to the Scaffold, Flemijh and Dutch TH EATRE S. 191 Scaffold, altho’ it was to him he owed all his Dignities. Before the Reign of Lewis XIV. we find in the Dutch Theatre very few foreign Pieces imitated, excepting fome taken fron> the Spanijh , and which they received from Brabant : But fince they have approved of Corneille , Racine, and the other celebrated Tragedians, they have tranflated their good Performances with all the Energy the Dutch Tongue is capable of, infomuch that they fay confidently in their Country, that they have many Pieces of thefe Authors as good as the Originals, and fome that exceed them: For their Language, as they pretend, is infi¬ nitely more expreffive of the Serious and Tragic , than the French Tongue is: They pretend that one Dutch Word has more Force in that kind of Writing, than a Period in French ; but I cannot judge of this, being entirely ignorant of that Language. Their Theatrical Pieces are always in Verfe, and they follow the fame Rule they do in France ; they feldom write in Blank Verfe. The Tragedies are generally in five Adis, and fometimes in three. As for the Rhime, I am of Opinion that it is the Nature of their Language which caufes them to follow Ver- fification fo much, for their Rhimes are ex¬ cellent. Their Verfe rhimes like the Italian , always by the two laft Syllables: This makes a jg 2 Flemijh and Dutch THEATRES, a Harmony fo juft and fo fonorous, that all thole who are able to tafte the Italian Poetry allure us, that, for the fame Reafons, they cannot help being affedted with the Dutch Rhimes, However, notwithstanding thefe Advan¬ tages of the Rhime in the Dutch Language, I imagine that there is an Inconvenience in it. Before I explain my Thought, 1 would call to mind the Criticifm which a French Author made, a propos , on the Italian Lan¬ guage, becaufe it appears to me to be of the lame Nature with the Remark I have made on the Dutch Tongue. The French Critic advanced that the greateft Part of the Ita¬ lian Words ended with an a or an o , and faid that, that continual Monotony rendered the Language very defective. The Italians who anfwered him, made him fenfible, that if he had been but in the leaft able to Ipeak the Italian Language, he would not have advanced fuch an Obfervation; but that having judged of it only by the Eye, he ealily fell into the Error *. This probably may be my Cafe, notwithstanding all the Precautions I have taken. The Dutch Poets have * The Marquis of Orfi , In his Letters upon TThe Manner of 'Thinking well, and Mr. Mauratori in his Perfetta poejia* furnifh us with as many Inftances and Examples of this kind as can be defired* Flefaijh and Dutch THEATRES. 193 have imitated the Alexandrian Verfe in all its Parts, and I believe that their Language ought not to follow the Quality of the maf- culine and feminine Rhimes of the French Poetry. It feems to me that the Dutch fe¬ minine Rhime is faulty in the Article of Monotony: It terminates always in the Syl¬ lable er z, and that perpetual Sound appears to me very troublefome. I know very well that the Pronounciation can diverlify, in fome meafure, the Sound of that Syllable en, ac¬ cording as it is preceeded by a long, or a fhort, or a double Vowel, &c. but this can¬ not perfuade me that the Inconvenience of the Monotony does not prefent itfelf conti¬ nually. I do not underfland the Dutch Language ; but after having judged of it by my Eyes, and by Reflection I was willing alfo to judge of it by my Ears : I caufed a Dutchman to pronounce to me fome Words chofen out of feminine Rhimes, and I per¬ ceived that the Syllable en founded con¬ tinually in my Ears, notwithflanding the different Sound that every Word bears; that it never changes its Sound, and that it is al¬ ways pronounced. They aflure me, that in familiar Difcourfe it isfometimes almoft: mute, or at leaft foftened ; but that on the Theatre, and in the Pulpit, they pronounce it always ftrong. I make another Refle&ioru The French O have 194 Flemijh and Dutch TH EATRE S. have been obliged to eftablifti two Rhimes which they have named mafculine and fe¬ minine, by the Nature of their Language, the half of whole Words terminate in a mute e ; and I conceive that the Dutch Tongue was necellitated to the fame, having alfo half of its Words terminating in en. But I obferve the Advantage which the French has over the Dutch Tongue: In the one we but Very rarely perceive that the fe¬ minine Rhimes terminate in e ; and in the other we hear plainly that they all terminate in en. In effeit, Image, Jaloufie, Chimere, Sacrifice , Perfide, Adore, Colere , &c. and an infinite Number of Words of French femi¬ nine Rhimes, do not appear to end in e, and each has a different Sound. But in the Dutch Tongue, thefe Words Leden, Voren, Tirannen, IVonden, Gebroken, Zoonen , Barba - aren, and in all the reft of their feminine Rhimes, the Syllable en founds continually, and confequently the Monotony is inevitable. ] have had the Curiofity to examine, on this Head, the Dutch Tragedy of The Death of the Prince of Orange , which is one of the beft of their Theatre: The firft Adt has 800 Lines, 400 of which are feminine Rhimes; of which there are 324 that ter¬ minate in the Syllable en ; and twenty that have a different Termination ; and this con¬ firms to me, that the Difpofition of their Language Flemijh and Dutch THEATRES. 195 Language is not at all lucky, in regard to this Article, of the feminine Rhimes they have adopted; perhaps indeed they cannot difpofe any other wife, but they never fail to be a remarkable Inconvenience *. Their Theatre now becomes every Day more exad: They have banilhed all the ancient Pieces, and a &. none but new ones, which make their Theatre entirely of a French Tafle. Generally they perform a Tragedy or a Comedy of five Adts, followed by a fmall Piece which they call Klugtfpel. Many of thele they have tranilated from D' Ancourt and Le Grand, and other French Authors; but thofe which are in the natural Tafte oF the Country, infinitely exceed the foreign Pieces; befides that, the Authors are igno¬ rant of the Spirit of the French Perfor¬ mances, which renders thele Tranflations very infipid: But they perform Wonders in O 2 Tra- * The Dutch and Germans are the only Nations who have imitated the French in making Ufe of Rhime in Tragedy and Comedy. The Italians and the Englfh have never put them into Rhime; and if the Spaniards have fometimes done it, they have put the Rhimes correfponding to one another at a confiderable Diftance, and by that Means avoided the dif- agreeable Monotony of the Alexandrine Verfe. I don't think however, that they are to be followed as Models io.that Parti¬ cular. From this Note of our Author s it is plain that there are a gnat many Englifh Dramatic Performances , which never came to brs Hands y and which he never heard of 196 Flemijh and Dutch TH EATRE S. Tragedy, which they recite nobly and natu¬ rally, the Dutch being generally averfe to the Tragic Declamation of the French Thea¬ tre, which they regard as a Rant foreign to Nature. The Play-houfes of Amflerdam , of the Hague , and of Leyden , have had good Au¬ thors •f ; but they have but few fo good Ac- treffes, as Madam Benjamine , &c. They fay that they would yet have better Ac¬ tors and Adtreffes, if they were paid as in France ; for there are great Numbers who have the Gifts of the Theatre, Memory, Tafte, Prefence, and good Speech; but their + beft Performers have not above 600 Florins a Year; fo that, not being able to live by the Theatre alone, they all have Trades. Punt is an excellent Engraver. Duym is a Book- feller, &c.. Befides this, their Players muft be lober and modeft, becaufebeing almoft all Burgers and Burgers Wives, they would be afhamed to appear upon the Stage with an Adlor whofe Virtue was fufpedted: On this Account the Managers of their Theatres, who are eight Perfons of Diftinilion, were obliged f Van Sermes, Ryu dorp, Nofeman, Brinhhuyfe , Benjamine Kotringy Jan Tambour , Vander Sluys . Bor, Boehhurft , Vander Ramp. Duym , Punt, have diftinguifhed themfelves. X Benjamine Brinhhuyfe , Nofeman, Rigo, Waehtendorp, Bor 3 Duym, Jordaan, Maze. Fiemifo and Dutch THEATRES. 197 obliged to difmifs their bed Adtrels, becaufe an Accident which had happened to her, hindered her Companions to perform along with her: However, fome Time after (he was readmitted. Their Play-houfes are a Demi-oval, of which, the Side of the Stage makes the fmall Diameter: Near to the Stage is the Orchedre, confiding at the mod of two Bands of Muficians: Behind this, two Thirds of the Space form what they call Bac, which is a Pit with Benches covered with Cuflfions or Carpets: The other Third- part, which is about two or three Foot higher, is a Place where they dand up: There is, all round the Room, a Row of Boxes which are higher than the lowed Part of the Stage by five or fix Feet. At Amjlerdam there is a fecond Row of Boxes, in form of an Amphitheatre. They pay Twenty-pence for the Pit, Thirty-pence for the Boxes, for the Standing- Places Six-pence, and for the Amphitheatre above (where there is one) Ten-pence. The Revenue of the Theatre, (Actors paid, and all Expences defray’d) isfetafide for the Support of two Hofpitals, which have fometimes from twenty to five and twenty thoufand Florins a Year. In all the other Cities, the Perfor¬ mance is carried on with Tranquillity enough: As between the Adts they lower the O 3 Cur- 198 Flemijh and Dutch THEATRES. Curtain in order to fnuff the Candles, the meaner Sort of People take that Opportunity to drink, taking Care to bring a Stock along with them; but at Amjlerdam , where the People are more forward and impudent, the Amphitheatre, above the firfl: Boxes, is very troublefome: They talk there very loud ; they call to one another from one End to the other; they crack Nuts during the whole Performance; they are perpetually throwing Bottles up and down between Adis, infomuch that they make a terrible Noife, which is very difagreeable. If the Adtors difpleafe the Amphitheatre, they plague them ; they call them Nick-names, and cry aloud to them to retire, or to hold their Peace, &c. Their Play-houfes are well illuminated: Belides five or fix Sconces which hang from the Mid¬ dle down on the Edge of the Stage, there are generally between the Boxes hranched-Can- dlefticks with Lights in them. They boaft extremely of the Theatre of Amjlerdam , and it is current in thefe Parts, that it is one of the m6fl beautiful in Europe ; but this I can’t affirm for Truth, becaufe I never law it: It is of great Extent both irw Length and Breadth: Its Decorations are magnificent: There is a Gallery of the famous LaireJJ'e y which is a Mafter-piece; and a Saloon of ‘Troojl, which is grand. I muff obferve that their Tafte for Poetry ist Flemijh and Dutch TH E ATRE S. 199 is not at all diminished, altho’ the Reden-Ryck- ers-Kamers do not fubfifl any more: They have fubftituted in their room Poetical-Socie¬ ties, and diftinguifhed every one by a De¬ vice. They count in Amjlerdam So many as thirty, the moft ancient of which have for Devices, the one In magnis r voluiJJe fat eft ; and the other, Latet quoq\ utilitas. Thefe two Societies, from the Year 16S0 to 1698, have produced twenty four Pieces. Another, which has for its Motto, Nil volentibus ardu- um y has given twenty fix from the Year 1704 to 1717: That which has for its Device, L’ Application fait fleurir les Arts , has pro¬ duced twenty five Pieces from 1700 to 1718, infomueh that the Colledtion of the Thea¬ trical Pieces of thefe Societies amounts to near two hundred. The Catalogue of the Pieces of the Dutch Theatre printed in the Year 1727, contains two hundred fixty eight Authors, thirty Socie¬ ties, and four hundred ninety eight Trage¬ dies, three hundred Seventy one Comedies, Seventy fix Tragi-Comedies, twenty three Paftorals, two hundred feventy Farces, and eight Operas, which make in all one thou¬ sand two hundred forty fix Theatrical Pieces. As for Habits, they have followed the Tafte of the Times: At prefent they ufe the fame they do at Paris , excepting this, that their Roman Habits are with Helmets, which are O 4 yet 2qo Flemijh and Dutch TH EATRE S. ytt better than Hats: The Oriental Pieces are performed in a long Drefs, like the Fur- kip ; the reft in Dreffes according to the Falhion: The whole is magnificent, and the Roman Habits are embroidered curioufly: Their Warehoufe furnifties all. The principal Adtors are at prelent Mr. Duym, whom they call their Baron, and Punt, their Quinault. Madams Maze and Bruyn, and fome young People who form themfelves on the Inftrudtions of the old Bor, who will become, as they hope, excellent; Adlors. THE THE GERMAN THEATRE. L L the Capital Cities of Europe have applied themfelves earneftly to revive Shows. In effect, as foon as Tragedy and Comedy appeared fince the Time of the Rom am, we may oblerve, that the feveral Nations took but little Time after one another, in re-efta- blifhing their Theatres. In Truth, the Ger¬ man Theatre has been the lateft; and for this Reafon it is, that it is eafier to trace its Ori¬ gin and Progrefs, than of the others. Ancient Germany has its Bards , who in Quality of Poets compofed and fung the Elogies of their Heroes. Hence it is that the Word Bar comes, which fignifies a Song. Since Charlemagne , we have feen fucceed to thefe Bards another kind of Poets, called Majler-hanger, that is to fay Mafler-Singers, 202 He GERMAN THEATRE. who may be fix hundred Years {landing. They bring all fort of Proofs to evince that they were famous even in the Days of Otho the Great, who had given them confi- derable Privileges, confirmed by his Succef- fors, efpecially Maximilian I. Different Socie¬ ties and Clubs of thefe Majler-Singers were formed in the principal Cities of Germany ; at Mentz, Strajbourg, Nurembourg , and AugJ- bourg. They had a Right to write Poetry at Tournaments, public Meetings, and other folemn Ceremonies. That at Strajbourg is actually fubfifting yet, and enjoys certain Revenues, eftablifhed many Ages ago in favour of this Company; which is compofed of Tradefmen, Workmen, Taylors, Shoe¬ makers, Weavers, Millers, &c. who perform in a confpicuous Place, or a common Hall of Tradefmen, publickly at certain Times in the Year, having their old and their chief Men, who are Judges of the Verfification and Song, and who diftribute the inftituted Prize, according to their Rules and Cuftoms; thefe ignorant Workmen, who have no Notion of Poetry, nor of the Rules of Mufic, give be- fides fometimes an Entertainment to amufe the By-ftanders. It is from thefe Singers that we mull draw the Origin of the German Theatre; but they did not apply to this till late, giving them- felves up generally to compofe Verfes on Sub¬ jects The GERMAN THEATRE. 203 je La Mothe Danchet , and Vdtaire , together with their Prefaces , and the critical Differta- tions fubjoined, contributed not a little to my Information. But the Authors to whom I was more obliged than to all the reft were Father Brumoy , in his Theatre of the Greeks , and Riccoboni in his Italian Theatre. The more I knew of the Regulations of foreign Theatres, the more I was difgufted at the Diforder and Confufion of the Ger¬ man Stage; but it happened that the Come¬ dians of the Court of Drefden changed their Mafter, whofe SuccelTor, as well as his Wife, (who has a fine Genius for the Stage, and equals the moft accomplifhed Adrefs either ©f France or England) had a ftrong Inclina¬ tion to abolifh the wild Confufion which had till then debafed our Theatre, and to put the German Stage on the fame Footing with that of the French. Long before this, while he was at the Court of Brunfwick , Attempts had been made to tranflate the beft French Tragedies into German Verfe, and Copies of a great many of them fent to him for effec¬ tuating the fame Purpofe. And tho’ they begun with the Regains of Pradon y who was none of the beft Writers of French Tragedy, and tranflated very harfhly by Brejfand , a Poet 222 The GERMAN THEATRE. Poet refiding at the Court of that Prince,’ yet it had fuch a Run that they were thereby encouraged to aft Brutus and Alexander , tranflated by the fame Hand. Some Time after the Cid of Corneille appeared, tranflated by a better Hand, and met with greater Applaufes than any of the Pieces formerly played. That I might contribute all I could to the Reformation of our Theatre, I propofed to aft Cinna, tranflated by a Perfon of Diftinc- tion, a Member of the Counfel of Nurem¬ berg. This Mafterpiece of Corneille is in the Colleftion entitled Vefta and Flora , and met with the Succefs it deferved. At laft I myfelf tranflated the Iphiginia of Racine ; and two of my Friends tranflated the fecond Part of the Cid, called the Mourning, or Mourning Tear of Chimene, and Racine's Ber¬ nice, which were all three afted with Ap- plaufe; thus we had even at that Time eight regular Tragedies afted upon our Theatre. After having given this fhort Account of the Rife to a Reformation on our Theatre, it is neceflary I fliould fpeak of my own Cato, and give a particular Account of its Nature and Conduft. Cato of Utica , has in all Ages of the World been looked upon as the Pattern of Stoical Refolution, as a thorough Patriot, and a true Republican. Poets and Orators, Hi- ftorians and ufed as his own, fuch Things as <{ beft fuited his Purpofe in compofing his “ AndriaV My Imitation in this Particular is ft ill far¬ ther authorized by the Example of another Poet: Habet Bonorum exemplum ; quo exemplo fibi Licere id facere , quod illi fecerunt putat. Who thought, “ when he had the Example “ of good Authors to imitate, he might “ warrantably do what they on the like ** Occafions did.” But without having recourfe to the Exam¬ ple of Terence , who has borrowed whole Plays from Menander , with but a few Altera¬ tions or Additions of his own, I may juftify myfelf by the Example of the beft Writers of 226 the GERMAN THEATRE. of French Tragedy, - who have imitated, tranflated, or altered Sophocles and Euripides. I was at firft advifed, literally to tranflate Addijoris Cato ; but as I was refolved to flick to the Rules of the Drama, I found he fell far fhort in Regularity to the French Tra¬ gedy. The Englijh are indeed great Mailers both of Thought and Expreffion; they know wonderfully well how to fuftain a Charader, and enter furprifingly into the Heart of Man; but as to the Condud of the Fable, they are very carelefs, as appears from all their Dramatic Compofitions; and it would have given me great Pain had the German Stage been always liable to the Reproach of being irregular. This prevailed with me to alter my firft Purpofe, and write a Cato different from that of Mr. Addifori s. It would be ufelefsfor me to prove that the Tragedy of Mr. Defchamps is exadly accord¬ ing to the Rules of Arijlotle. This fufficiently appears from the Criticifm annexed to it, and confirms me in the Defeds of the Englijh Cato. In reality Mr. Addifon joined three Adions in one, tho’ each of them was en¬ tirely diftind from the other, independent of the main Plot, and often ferving to make the Spedators lofe Sight of it. The Adion is as follows: Cato with his Party, which is not very numerous, is blocked up in TJtica. Cafar offers him Terms, which he refufes; upon ‘The GERMAN THEATRE. 227 upon which Ccefar orders his Troops to ad¬ vance, but Cato finding himfelf too weak to make Head againft him, runs himfelf thro’ the Body with his Sword. Mr. Addi- fon , in order to extend this Action, has in- ferted two Epifodes, or rather two Plots, quite foreign to the main Action. Fortius and Marcus , the two Sons of Cato , are in Love with Lucia , the Daughter of a Roman Sena¬ tor. PortiuSy whom his Brother makes his Confident, adts like a wife Youth, and con¬ ceals his own Paffion : Marcus dies, and his Brother wins Lucia. On the other hand Juba falls in Love with Marcia , the Daugh¬ ter of CatOy but meets with a Rival in the Perfon of Semproniusy a Roman Senator, who, difguifed like a Numidian that he might carry off Marcia , is furprized and killed by that Prince who gains his Miftrefs. Thefe two Epifodes are quite foreign to the principal Plot, and, in reality, deftroy the Principle of the Unity of Adbion. Befides the Improbability in the Hurry and Confufion then at Utica , fo much Time fhould have been fpent in Intrigues cf Gallantry, the Difguife of Sempronius to me feems too low and trivial for Tragedy. Even Cato in the fir ft Adt, to me does not iuftain a proper Grandeur, nor is fo great as when he appeafes the Tumult, and bewails the Death of his Son, All the reft of the Play is quite fo- Q_j 2 reign 228 The GERMAN THEATRE. reign to the main Adion. In the Englijh Tragedy the Scenes are very ill conneded together; the Adors go and come without any apparent Reafon ; fometimes the Stage is quite empty j and the Entrances and Exits are equally defedive, which never hap- pens in the French Drama. In (hort, I did not think it very much in Charader, that when Cato was dying, he fhould trouble him- felf fo much about the two Marriages. The Moderns have made it an indifpenfable Duty, and as it were a Rule, to finilh all Dramatic Reprefentations by a Marriage, which has long given me great Difguft. The Ancients did it very rarely, and I wanted to try if a Tragedy could fucceed without a Marriage, an Attempt in whichT hope I have not been unfuccefsful. If I am alked why I have not entirely tranHated the French Cato , I anfwer, It was becaufe the Plot in the Beginning was laid down with Good-Senfe and Probability j and Cato is there reprelented as great, as in the laft Ad his Charader to me appears weak and languifhing; the Death of that great Man being not fo much in the Cha¬ rader of a Philofopher as a Bravaoe. A Mutiny is raifed in Utica , where Cafar then was; his Army, who lay without the City being uneafy about the Safety of their Gene¬ ral, furioufly run into it, and kill all the Inha¬ bitants. & Sefquipedalia Verba. Horat. Art. Poet. v. 97, It is fufficient to make Agamemnon haugh¬ ty, Achilla fierce, Ulyffes wife, and Medcea furious; but a pompous and bomball fpoils the whole; and the greater the Characters, or the ftronger the Paffions one would represent are, the more he ought to ftudy a noble irre- filtible Simplicity. I can’t help thinking that too bomball Speeches are often put in the Mouths of Pomam: It is indeed true that their Thoughts had fomewhatof a noble Elevation, but they always chofe to exprefs them in a natural S 3 and 262 The GERMAN THEATRE. and eafy Manner. Tho they were, in Vir¬ gil's Phrafe, * Popnlum late Regem, a People whofe Power and Conquefts were very ex- tenfive, yet they were as calm and moderate in expreffing themfelves in Converfation, as they were induftrious in fubduing thofe Nations who were jealous of their Power. Parcere SubjeSiis, & debellare Superbos. Virg. /Eneid VI. v. 853. Horace has in other Words drawn the fame Picture of them. Imperet Bellonte prior, jacentem lenh in hojlem. Carm. Sascul. v. 51, 52. There feems not to be a fufficient Agree¬ ment betwixt the Language of Augujlus in the Tragedy of Cinna, and that modeft Sim¬ plicity with which Sueton adorns all his Ac¬ tions and Behaviour; for he left in Rome fo great an Appearance of the ancient Liberty of the Common-Wealth, that he would not be called Lord. Sueton’s Account of him runs thus: “ Not only by his Autho- “ rity, but even by his Countenance, he ct checked this infolent Flattery, and next “ Day Vi g* Mntid v, 25* Hhe GERMAN THEATRE. 263 “ Day made a very fevere Edidt againft it j “ nor after this would he fuffer himfelf to “ be filled my Lord, no not by his Chil- “ dren and Grand-children, either in Jed or “ in Earned:.- During his Conful- ** (hip he walked generally on Foot; and tc when not Conful, he often appeared “ in an open Chair, and received even the the ’Tyrant , ftanding in need of the King of Thebes Palace, and an Altar, choofe for the Scene of Adtion the public Place in which the Altar and the Palace of the King were built. Guarini , in his Faflor Fido , has like- wife ordered his Theatre in fuch a Manner, that without any Change of Decoration, the Spectators fee the Temple on the Top of the Mountain, the Grotto at the Foot of it, and the Valley where all the Scenes pafs. Of the Unity of Time, and the Unity of Action in French Tragedies. T H E French are not always exadt Ob- lervers of the Unity of Time, or in other Words, of the Rule enjoining twenty four Hours for the time of the Adtion : To prove this, I might produce many Examples; but for Brevity-fake, fhall only take notice of the Horatii. This Tragedy begins the very Moment in which one would think the Roman and Alban Armies were juft about to engage Of /^FRENCH TRAGEDY. 313 engage one another; and the firft Scene re- prefents to us the Anxiety of the Sabines , about the Event of the Battle. At the End of the firft ACt, Curiatius comes to inform Camilla that there was to be no Engagement, fince the contending Parties had agreed to fingle out, from their refpeCtive Nations, three Combatants, who were to fight for the common Caufe. The Difficulty that now remained, was to know who were the mod proper Perfons to be made Choice of. The 'Romans choofe the Horatii: The Albans the Curiatii. Preparations are made for the Combat; the People flock to the Camp; a Sufpenfion of Arms is agreed to; the Oracle is confulted; and by it the Choice of the Romans is applauded: The People return to the Camp; the Battle is fought; Horatius comes off victorious; he makes his Entrance into Rome ; the People receive him with Acclamations, and welcome him with Shouts of Joy. He goes into his own Houfe; he kills his Sifter. The King pays a Vilit to Old Horatius, whofe Son Valerius accufes of having murdered his Sifter. Horatius pleads the Caufe of his Son; and the King acquits him. Thus the Tragedy ends. Without confulting Titus Livius, I believe we need only reflect on the Extent of Time which thefe Events may reafonably be fup- pofed to take up, in order to be convinced that 3 i4 Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. that they could not happen in lefs than two or three Days. With regard to the Unity of Adtion, I find a great Difference between the Greek and the French Tragedies} I always perceive with Eafe the Adtion of the Greek Trage¬ dies, and never fo much as lofe View of it} but in the French, I own I am often at a Lofs to diftinguifh between the Adtion itfelf, and the Epifodes with which it is intermixt. What, for inftance, is the Adtion of the Cid of Mithridates, and of fome others ? In the Cid, Roderick kills the Father of his Miftrefs, puts the Enemies to Flight, has a Beating- bout with his Rival, obtains the King’s Par¬ don, and the Hand of Chimene. Thefe are all the Events in the Piece} but which of them ought to be regarded as the principal one, or the main Adtion of the Tragedy ? Is it the Pardon which Roderick obtains of the King? That Pardon is granted in the Mid¬ dle of the Piece. Is it the Defeat of the Moors ? That happens in the Interval betwixt the third and fourth Adt. Is it, in fine, the Marriage of Chimene ? Not one of the Events of the Piece leads to that End. Mithridates returns to rally his Forces, and march forth againft Rome: He finds his Son in Love with Monimia, whom he him- felf was to marry. The Romans advance } Mithridates goes out to engage them: He returns Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. 315 returns wounded ; and dying, orders the Mar¬ riage of Monimia and his Son. Will any one fay that the Death of Mi¬ thridates is the Adtion of this Tragedy! But the Death of a Hero can never be the Sub¬ ject of a Tragedy, unlefs the Poet diredt every Part of his Piece to that particular End. The Death of Britannicus , for in- ftance, is juftly looked upon as the Adtion of that Tragedy, becaufe the Author’s Intention is by different Events to lead us on to this Cataftrophe, upon which he all along fixes our Views; but in Mithridates , what Cir- cumftance, what Confpiracy makes us dread, or even expedt the Death of that Prince? There is nothing in Mithridates which fixes the Death of that Prince as the Subjedt of the Tragedy. The Death of a Hero, or a Tyrant, may fometimes be the Hinge on which the Adtion turns; or it may be the EfFedt and Refult of it. Forinftance, in the Tragedy of Heraclius, Phocas is killed, and the Adtion of the Piece is the owning the rightful Succejfor to the Em¬ pire , and his Re-eftablifhment upon the Throne; To bring this about, Phocas is flain ; and in this Cafe the Death of the Tyrant is not the Aft ion itfelf but the Ejfeft and Refult of it. In the Death of Pompey , Pompey himfelf is dead before the Tragedy begins; and his Death 316 Of the FRENCH TRA’GEDY. Death is, as it were, the Spring from which the whole of the Adion flows. In this Cafe the Hero’s Death is the Caufe of the Adion: The Death of the Count de Gormas produces feveral Adions in the Cid-, but in Mithri- dates , the Death of the King is by no means either the Caufe, or the Effed of the Aft ion. As there would be no end of examining them all, I fhall only fay, that in the far greater Part of the French Tragedies, the Adion is very often a Myflery, into which the Authors themfelves cannot let the Spec¬ tators. This is far from being the Cafe with the Greek Tragedies; in them you difcover the Action at firfl View. In OEdipus, for in fiance, a Peflilence lays wafte the City Thebes. On that Account the Oracle is confulted, who declares that the unavenged Murder of Laius is the Caufe of all their Woes. Upon this OEdipus binds himfelf by an Oath to avenge 1 it; a Scrutiny is made, and OEdipus is found at once to be the Son of Laius , and Murderer of his Fa¬ ther. This is the Subjed of the OEdipus, and one will at firfl perceive the Adion of this Tragedy, for every Part of the Ador’s Con- dud tends to difcover the Murderer of Laius , and prepare the Woes of OEdipus. After having fpoke of thefe French Tra¬ gedies, in which it is not eafy to perceive the true Adion, let us now fpeak of thofe wherein Of FRENCH TRAGEDY. 317 wherein the Unity of Adtion is not fuffici- ently obferved, and where Matters are fo ordered, as to force one to acknowledge two Adtions. I {hall begin with Andromache , which is incontedably one of the fined of Mr. Ra¬ cine's Pieces. The true Subjedt of this Tra¬ gedy is the Marriage of Pyrrhus: The Greeks charge Orefies to oppofe it j but upon his Arrival at the Court of Pyrrhus , he finds himfelf fway’d by a more prevalent Intered than that of Greece , which was entruded to him: His Love for Hermione makes him with that Pyrrhus might marry Andromache: The Command of Hermione obliges him to kill Pyrrhus: The Paflion which rages in the Bread of that Hero, his Fury, his Jea- loufy of Hermione , and in fine, his Death, are all Circumdances which intered the Spedtators more than thofe relating to Pyr¬ rhus and Andromache , and might of them- felves make the Subjedt of a Tragedy. On the other hand, the Fate of Andromache , and the Love of Pyrrhus for her, are Subjedts diffidently intereding to fupply a Poet with the Matter of a good Tragedy; and, upon Refledtion, any one will eafily fee, that a Poet of Mr. Racine's Abilities, could have eafily worked out his Tragedy without Her- mione's being at the Court of Pyrrhus , and without affigning any other Intered to hinder the I 318 Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. the Marriage of Oreftes with Andromache , than the Inftrudtions given him by the Greeks: Pyrrhus would have had the fame Struggle betwixt his Paffion for Andromache and his Dread of drawing out againft himfelf the united Forces of all Greece. Andromache in like manner would have appeared to us racked on Account of the Love the bore her Son, and by her Horror at a Marriage with the Murderer of Priam s Family, even the Son of that hated Man who murdered her Dear Hedtor. If Mr. Racine had ftuckby the Simplicity of this Subject, his Piece had been more regular and more moving; for it is not the Multiplicity of Interefts that renders a Piece interefting; on the contrary, it interefts more when one lingle Event, without any thing foreign or adventitious, attracts the whole of the Attention : Mr. Racine un¬ doubtedly knew this well enough; but he has been forced to accommodate himfelf to the Genius of the Nation, which is chiefly touched with the Fate of Lovers in Drama¬ tic Performances; and as it is abfolutely ne- ceflary that Love (hould have a Part in all Subjects that are truly tragical, the Poets, who have brought thefe Subjects upon the French Theatre, have not only been obliged to make Ufe of Epifodes for that Purpofe, but often to work up thefe Epifodes with more Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. 319 more Care and Accuracy than the principal Subject of the Piece. Hence it is that there are lo many Epifodes in the French Tragedies. To this it is owing that the Perfonages in their Epifodes interell the Spectator as much as the principal Hero of the Piece. We may form a Judgment of this Affair from the Severus of Potencies , the Eriphile of Iphigenia , the Aricia of Phedrus , and from the Amours of Thejeus and Dirce in the OEdipus . If the Neceffity of always introducing Lovers upon the French Theatre, has pro¬ duced Faults in thb Works of the greatefl Mailers, we may eafily guefs at the Fate of the inferior Clafs of Authors who have gone into this Practice; but to fpeak the Truth, this Ufage has perhaps been of lingular Ser¬ vice to help them to maintain and keep up their Dialogue, fince there is no Palfion that furnilhes out a greater Number of common¬ place Topics, than that of Love. Of Character in the French Tragedy. T HE French Writers of Tragedy feem not to have been careful enough in marking the Differences as to the particular Species 320 Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. Species of Heroiffli, peculiar to different Nations. The Greek Poets and Hiftorians paint their Heroes grand, but for the moft Part fierce and cruel. The Roman Heroes retain the fame Grandeur, but it is heightened and fet off by Humanity and Generofity. In the French Tragedies, Ccefar , Alexan¬ der ,, Pompey , Mithridates , Auguflus , and A- chilles , feeirtall born under the fame Climate, and trained up in the fame Maxims. Every Hero, befides the predominating Character of his Nation, ought to have one peculiar to himfelf: We know that Pyrrhus , the Son of Achilles, was impetuous and cruel ; and that Hippolitus , the Son of Tdhefeus , was favage, auftere, and ffeel’d againft the Im- prefiions of Love; neverthelefs, in Racine's Phedra , this Hippolitus is finical in his Senti¬ ments, and blubbers for his dear Aricia ; Pyrrhus is humbled, tender, and trembling at the Feet of Andromache ; it may be an- fwered, that if Pyrrhus is fufceptible of Love, and fubmiffive to his Miftrefs, there are cer¬ tain Starts in which he difcovers his true Character, and fpeaks with Haughtinefs to Andromache herfelf. By attentively examin¬ ing thefe Palfages, we find that it is lefs the Fiercenefs of his Character which makes him talk in this harfh Manner to Andro¬ mache , than the Impatience which muft be natural to every Lover in his Situation. While Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. 321 While his Miftrefs was continually bewailing the Lofs of her Hufband, and touched with the afflicting Remembrance of her Son’s Situa¬ tion, the moft tender Lover would have faid as much as Pyrrhus on a like Occafion; and it is not fo much the Character as the Situa¬ tion, that Mr. Racine has here followed. If this great Poet has fo much altered two fo remarkable Characters, what muft we ima¬ gine others to have done ? That we may be able to view this Fault in a true Light, it will not be amifs to make fome Obfervations upon Characters in gene¬ ral. Every' Man, and efpecially every Hero, has fome predominant Branch of his Cha¬ racter, which gives a particular Stamp, jf I .may fo fay, to his Thoughts, and allows him to relifh nothing but what is accommodated to it: If at any time he feels the Work¬ ings of thefe Paffions which are common to Humanity, there is no Occafion for think¬ ing that they are different in him, from what they are in other Men: The fame Paf¬ fions do not render different Men alike. On the contrary, the different Characters of Men give a different Turn to the fame Paffion in every individual Man. AU Men may poffi- bly be in Love, but every one is fo in his own Way, and this Way depends upon the pre¬ vailing Part of his Character, which is more Y or 3 22 Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. or lefs influenced by thefe accidental Paffions, as he is more or lefs able to refill their Im- preflions. We find Examples of the juft Combina¬ tion of thefe Paffions in fome of the Trage¬ dies of Racine and Corneille. In the Iphigenia in Aulis , when Achilles is afraid of lofing his Miflrefs, he does not abandon himlelf to vain Regrets: But that impetuous Hero, impatiently bearing the Superiority of Agamemnon , flies into a Paf- iion, and threatens him even in the Prefence of Iphigenia. Prufias exceffively fond of his Wife, and giving himfelf up to be en¬ tirely managed by her, is deaf to the Calls of Nature in favour of bis Son Nicomedes. Thus Love, which in Achilles meets with a fierce and haughty Character, allows him ftill to adl agreeably to it: But finding in Prufias a Character where Sweetnefs and Condefcenfion reign, it quite fubdues him, and imparts all its Weakneffes to him. The two Poets have been equally happy in work¬ ing up thefe two different Characters, and have obferved all the Rules of Probability, which are but indifferently obferved by the other Writers of French Tragedy, who be¬ llow upon their Heroes that Gallantry and thofe Sentiments they have borrowed from Romances, without caring whether thefe Herpes would have loved in fuch a Manner, Of ^FRENCH TRAGEDY. 323 or whether their Method of loving be agree¬ able to the Characters which Hiftory and Fable give them. I {hall not fpend time in running over all the Pieces of the modern Poets, to point out their Faults of this kind; we may eafily apply to every one of thefe Pieces, what I have faid concerning the prevailing Charac¬ ter of every Hero, and the proportionable Alterations which the Paffions make in it. I {hall clofe this Chapter by obferving that the Word Character is often improperly ufed. Moft People find Characters where there are really none: Is there, for inftance, a fingle Character in the Cid, except that of the Count de Gorinas? In Roderick is there any other than that of Cleopatra ? Is there any at all to be found in Hit us and Berenice ? In fine, in the Horatii I can only find two Characters marked, that of Horatius , and that of Curiatius ; and in Cinna , thofe of Augujlus and /Emilia. I don’t pretend to give what I have faid of the Character of thefe different Pieces as a formal Decifion: I only let the Reader know what Impreffion they made upon my- felf; and perhaps what I have advanced may lay a Foundation for their being examined with greater Accuracy for the future. I have not taken upon me to criticife thefe Trage¬ dies in which I find fo fmall a Number of Y 2 Cha- 324 0/^* FRENCH TRAGEDY. Characters, a great Number of which are by no means neceflary to denominate a Tragedy good.' When the Action is Ample, and turns upon one or two Perfonages, it is fuffi- cient that their Characters be maintained and marked: Thus in Roderick , the Charac¬ ter of Cleopatra is fufficient for the Piece. OJ the Sentiments of the JFrbn.Ch Tragedies. O NE j?f the fix conRituent Parts of Tragedy, according to ufriftotle, is what the Italians call Sentenza : As I don’t find a French Word which correfponds ex¬ actly to it, I fhall in its Read fpmetimes Ujfe the Word Sentiment , and fometimes jtlje Word Maxim. The French Tragedies chiefly excel in this Point, which is the Rock on which tjhofe Authors fplit, who, by indulging the Fire of their Imagination too much, fwerye from that Probability, which is the rpoll folid Foundation of true and genuine Beauty. Is it, for inftance, probable Rut a Hero, amidft the Tranfporjs of jth,e moft violent Paifion, fliould enter upon the moft refined and abfltraCt Speculations in fyfetapbyjicsp This Of //^FRENCH TRAGEDY. 325 Yhis pretended beauty produces an EfFedt quite contrary to the Intention of Tragic Poetry. At the very Moment the Heart is touched with the deplorable Situation of a Hero, boiling with Fury and madden’d with De- Ipair, there flows from his Mouth a Thought fo delicate and refined, a Sentiment fo little expedted, and fo much above the common Pitch, that it in fome meafure deftroys the Sentiments of the Heart, by attradling the Attention of the Mind. Read, for inftance, in Corneille , the Dif- courfe of OEdipus to Dirce , when he is found to be the Son of that fame 'Jocafta whom he had married; and you will ob- ferve, that in order to exprefs the Situation in which he is, he ufes Thoughts fo grand and noble, that they force our Applaufe, but at the fame time weaken our Compafiion. In the Tragedy entitled The Death of Pompey, Cornelia alone is capable of moving the Paf- fions, and touching the Heart. Yet the no¬ ble Sentiments with which (he fo much abounds, both with regard to Ccefar and the Allies of Pompey , are only capable of dazling the Mind, but not of moving the Heart; the Spedlators, inftead of being touched with Pity, are ftruck with Admiration, which is far from being the End of Tragedy, in which the Skill of the Poet confifts in hiding Art, Y 3 and 326 Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. and (hewing only Nature. The Sentiment of the Soul, expreffed in a manner agreeable to one’s Situation, is of itfelf fufficiently able to move the Spedtators, which a dudied Thought will never do. If we obferve in what manner Sophocles makes OEdipus fpeak, when he brings him upon the Stage, together with his two young Daughters, we will perceive that the real Situation of that misfortunate Hero, who was at once their Father and their Brother, is not in the lead altered, or weakened by the Wit of the Poet. If Poets tranfgrefs the Rules of Probability, by putting into the Mouths of their Heroes, whole Circum- dances demand the mod natural Sentiments, too far-fetched Expreflions, they are equally culpable if the Language they put into their Mouths is not fuited to their Rank, Age, and Sex. We mud agree however, that Elevation of Sentiments admits of many Degrees, but the manner of Expreffion is different, according to the Difference of Age and Education. Many of the Greek and Latin Poets have been judly blamed for not having obferved the Rules of Probability in the Language they put into the Mouths of their Charac¬ ters; and the fame Cenfure may be pad, with Judice, upon French Writers of Tra¬ gedy ; among them we often find Heroes, Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. 327 and their Confidents, Women and Children, talk in the fame Strain, and equally fhow away with Maxims and Sentences. The French , who are naturally full of Wit, wfith Pleafure purfue that Part of Tragedy which we call Sentiments , and frequently facrifile to it all other Confiderations: In this they are encouraged by the Applaufe which a fine Maxim always gains from the Audience; and it has been known that a Tragedy has fuc- ceeded purely upon the Merit of the pretty Maxims that w r cre fcattered thro’ it. But this Succefs has impofed upon Authors, who have not perceived that a Piece, which has no other Merit, has never a durable Reputation : If they want that their Pieces fhould be long- lif’d, let them apply themfelves to the Con¬ duit of the Pable; let them take care that that in itfelf, when ftript of the Ornaments of Speech, (hall be affeCting and interefling for the Spectators; let them employ their Wit in the Obfervation of the Character and other Circumftances, and they fhall then be fure to pleafe for ever. Thus it is that Racine has acquired im¬ mortal Fame. Some have imagined that he has not excelled in Sentiments, or pretty Say¬ ings ; but the; make this Reflection bectrufe they don’t obferve that elevated Thoughts, which ftrike in other Writers, are formed in Racine in as great a Number as in other Y 4 Poets; 328 Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY* Poets; but in thefe they ftrike more, becaufe the Inequality of their Stile {hews them in it a Contraft which is more dazzling. They are not fo eafily difcerned in Racine, whofe Stile is always equally noble, and his Expref- fions always juft and natural, but never con¬ founded with founding Bombaft; and this is the true Pattern of Stile. Let the French, who reproach the Italians with their Con¬ cetti, or Conceits, do Juftice to themfelves and the' Italians both: To the Italians, by owning that thefe Conceits are not agreeable to their Meri of Learning, and difapproved by them; and to themfelves, in guarding againft a Fault for which they blame the Ita¬ lians, and which is become but too common among modern Writers: It is true, it is lefs frequent among good Authors, and I will inftance two in Racine himfelf, which are as abfurd as any among the Italians. Pyrrhus, in the Andromache, Adi I. Scene IV. fays, 1 feel thofe Ills that I have dealt to Troy Vanquijlfd arid bound, confirmed with fruitkfs Plaints, Burnt with more Fires than thofe I kindled there. _I f See likewife an Inftance of this kind front the fame Author in Page 258. Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. 329 I have quoted thefe Paffages of Racine , not fo much with any Defign to refledt on that great Man who has fo rarely been faulty in this refpedt, as to (hew how much we ought to guard again ft thefe bombaft Senti¬ ments, lince they fo eafily infinuate them- felves into the Writings of the greateft Mafters. I believe I have faid enough on this Subjedt, becaufe it will be eafy for the Reader to apply thefe Obfervations to the feveral Dramatic Performances he (hall have Occafion to examine. Of the Intention of the French Tragic Poets, and fome Remarks upon French Tragedy. T H E End of Dramatic Poetry is to pleafe, and for this the Poets ought to conform themfelves to the Tafte of the Nation. Among the Greeks , the People having a great Share in the Government, nothing interefted them fo much as the Revolutions of Kingdoms: They were pleafed to fee the Paflions drawn in fuch a manner as to occafion them, and to hear the Theatre adopt political Maxims. In the 330 Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. firft Chapter we have feen that their Poets brought upon the Stage Subjects and Cha¬ racters agreeable to their Genius. The French, contented with their happy Govern¬ ment, through a long Succeffion of Years under the wife Direction of their Princes, are lefs touched with Pictures refembling the Intrigues of Ambition: They with Joy be¬ hold Love and Jealoufy keep Pofleffion of their Stage ; and Romances, which have had fuch a Run among them, have naturally led their Poets to reprefent that which they took a Pleajure in reading: This has given Rife to French Tragedy as we have it at prefent, where Love, in the Tafte of Romance, pol- fefies always the firft Part; and this predo¬ minant Paffion may be looked upon as the CharaCteriftic of their Tragedy, which di- ftinguiihes it from that of Greece and Italy. Perhaps it were to be. wifhed that they could put into the Mouths of fome other Heroes, befides thofe of Greece and- Rome, who were of fo oppofite a Character, Senti¬ ments of Tendernefs and Love : Why may they not make their Princes reprefent Dra¬ matic Heroes, as the Englijh have done ? But don’t let us infift too much on this Point, for it would carry us too much out of our Way; only we may obferve that their Poets having given them French Sentiments, have thought fit to give them even French Civility. Thus Of the FRENCH TR AGEDY. 331 Thus on the Head of Achilles, or Ccefar, we fee a Hat and a large Nodding Plumage, like thofe over a Canopy, and Strangers who aro not ufed to lee thefe Heroes fo burlefqued, can’t help calling them Monfieur Ccefar, and Monfieur Achilles . Don’t let us blame the French Poets, but rather the Tafte of the Spectators, who could be pleafed with nothing but thefe Pic¬ tures of Jealoufy and Love: To this alone are owing the Faults which we have taken No¬ tice of in the Works of their great Mailers; fuch as their failing, in the Unity of Place, as in Cinna ■> of Action, as in the Andromache ; of having fo ftrongly altered Characters, as in the Cid ; in Ihort, of introducing upon the Stage, Confidents, thole eternally cold and infipid Characters. || If I ever lhall have the Happinefs of knowing the Engli/h Stage, I lhall inform you of my Sentiments of it; at prefent I lhall fpeak of their Tragedy of Cato, which has been tranllated into our Language, and aCted upon our Stage with Applaufe. For my own Part I am of Opinion, that in this Play may be found the true Plan of a well conducted Confpiracy, and the Language of a Hero who Hill thinks nobly, but within the Comoafs of Nature. Cato is greater than all |1 This was wrote before the Author had been in England. 332 Of the FRENCH TRAGfeM. all Heroes either ancient or modern, yet 1 ftill know him to be a Man. It may be objeded that it is unnatural to reprefent Catd as denying to £hed a Tear for the Death of his Son; but I affirm that there is no Point in which the Character of Cato is better fuf- tained, without his deviating from Nature. Cato furrounded with the thin Remains of the Senate, mud: have difcouraged them had he given any Proof of Weaknefs. But even tho’ he had been by himfelf, perhaps he might not have ffied Tears, for thefe don't always accompany Grief, and agree ill with the Charader of Cato ; but if we examine the Sentiments of the Englijh Cato upon this Occafion, we (hall find them both great and tender in the higheft Degree at the fame time. r I don’t fpeak here of the Underplot con¬ taining the Loves of Cato’s Son and Lucia, and Juba with Marcia ; thefe I difapprove of, as not immediately aflfeding the Subjed of the Play; but probably the Neceffity of introducing Women put him under another, that of making them young, and therefore he could find no other Bufinefs for them upon the Stage but Love. It is to be hoped that if the Englijh and Italians follow the fine Mo¬ dels that are before them, they will give the World good Plays. I likewile flatter myfelf that th '€French Audiences will lofe the Tafte for Of the FRENCH TRAGEDY. 333 for thefe fwelling Thoughts which ftun the Mind, and (hock the Underftanding. They begin already to fet up againft the Impieties and the infernal Politics, and licentious Maxims, which fome Moderns have derived from polluted Sources, which have only a falfe Appearance of Greatnefs. Then fhall we have lefs Love upon the Stage, the Manners and Characters better preferved, the Unities obferved, and the Sentiments and fine Thoughts ufed on proper Occafions. But I do not expeCt to fee Rhime banilhed from the Theatre ; a Man mud be a French¬ man, and from his Infancy have his Ears ac- cuftomed to the Return of Rhime, other wife they mud be grated by its continual Mono¬ tony, not only of Rhime, but of the Period, which always takes up the Space of two. This Form, which never alters, produces on your Mind the fame EffeCt that the Billows of thp Sea do upon your Eye: Thefe at firft pleafe the View, but afterwards fatigue it, and the Spectator turns his weary Eye to the Shore for Relief. FINIS . ' ' (fi • .. -• ( ' . 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