imagination can suggest: and if the crime cannot bear disguise, the next attempt is to thrust it out of mind altogether, and to rush on to action without thought. This last was the husband's method: Strange things I have in head, that will to hand; Which must be acted ere they must be scann'd. The lady follows neither of these courses, but in a deliberate manner endeavors to fortify her heart in the commission of an execrable crime, without even attempting to color it. This, I think, is not natural; I hope there is no such wretch to be found as is here represented. In the Pompey of Corneille, Photine counsels a wicked action in the plainest terms without disguise: Seigneur, n'attirez point le tonnerre en ces lieux, Quels que soient leurs décrets, déclarez-vous pour eux, Pressé de toutes parts des colères célestes, Il en vient dessus vous faire fondre les restes; Et sa tête qu'à peine il a pû dérober, Tout prête adéchoir, cherche avec qui tomber. Il devoit mieux remplir nos vœux et notre attente, Il n'eût ici trouvé que joye et que festins; Mais puisqu'il est vaincu, qu'il s'en prenne aux destins. Le choix des actions, ou mauvaises, ou bonnes, La timide équité détruit l'art de régner; Quand on craint d'être injuste on a toujours à craindre; Et qui veut tout pouvoir doit oser tout enfreindre Et voler sans scrupule au crime qui lui sert. In the tragedy of Esther,† Haman acknowledges, without disguise, his cruelty, insolence, and pride. And there is another example of the same kind in the Agamemnon of Seneca. In the tragedy of Athalie, Mathan, in cool blood, relates to his friend many black crimes of which he had been guilty, to satisfy his ambition. In Congreve's Double-dealer, Maskwell, instead of disguising or coloring his crimes, values himself upon them in a soliloquy: Cynthia, let thy beauty gild my crimes; and whatsoever I commit of treachery * Act I. Sc. I. * Beginning of Act II. + Act II. Sc. I. § Act III. Sc. 3. at the close. oi deceit, shall be imputed to me as a merit.Treachery! what treachery? Lové cancels all the bonds of friendship, and sets men right upon their first foundations. Act II. Sc. 8. In French plays, love, instead of being hid or disguised, is treated as a serious concern, and of greater importance than fortune, family, or dignity. I suspect the reason to be, that, in the capital of France, love, by the easiness of intercourse, has dwindled down from a real passion to be a connection that is regulated entirely by the mode or fashion. This may in some measure excuse their writers, but will never make their plays be relished among foreigners: * Maxime. Quoi, trahir mon ami? -L'amour rend tout permis, Cinna, Act III. Sc. 1. César. Reine, tout est paisible, et la ville calmée, Du soldat insolent, et du peuple mutin. Mais, ô Dieux! ce moment que je vous ai quittée, Plus pour le conserver, que pour vaincre Pompée. 1 Ils conduisoient ma main, ils enfloient mon courage, " 1 Pompée, Act IV. Sc. 3. A certain author says humorously, "Les mots mêmes d'amour et d'amant sont bannis de l'intime société des deux sexes, et relégués avec ceux de chaine et de flamme dans les Romans qu'on ne lit plus." And where nature is once banished, a fair field is open to every fantastic imitation, even the most extravagant. The last class comprehends sentiments that are unnatural, as being suited to no character nor passion. These may be subdivided into three branches: first, sentiments unsuitable to the constitution of man, and to the laws of his nature; second, inconsistent sentiments; third, sentiments that are pure rant and extravagance. When the fable is of human affairs, every event, every incident, and every circumstance, ought to be natural, otherwise the imitation is imperfect. But an imperfect imitation is a venial fault, compared with that of running contrary to nature. In the Hippolytus of Euripides, Hippolytus, wishing for another self in his own situation, How much (says he) should I be touched with his misfortune! as if it were natural to grieve more for the misfortunes of another than for one's own. Osmyn. Yet I behold her—yet—and now no more. O impotence of sight! mechanic sense Thus do our eyes, as do all common mirrors, Mourning Bride, Act II. Sc. 8. No man, in his senses, ever thought of applying his eyes to discover what passes in his mind; far less of blaming his eyes for not seeing a thought or idea. In Moliere's L'Avare,† Harpagon being robbed of his money, seizes himself by the arm, mistaking it for that of the robber. And again he expresses himself as follows: Je veux aller quérir la justice, et faire donner la question à toute ma maison; à servantes, à valets, à fils, à fille, et à moi aussi. This is so absurd as scarcely to provoke a smile, if it be not at the author. Of this second branch the following are examples. Of the third branch, take the following samples. -Romanum nomen, et omne Thus in Rowe's translation: L. 8. 1. 798. Where there are seas, or air, or earth, or skies, The following passages are pure rant. Coriolanus, speaking to Julius Cæsar, Act II. Sc. 4. I gave my faith to him, he his to me. Almanzor. Good heaven, thy book of fate before me lay Or if the order of the world below, Will not the gap of one whole day allow, Give me that minute when she made that vow, That minute e'en the happy from their bliss might give, Would like divided waters join again. Almanzor. Conquest of Grenada, Act III. As life: when life's gone, I'll hold this last, I'll send my ghost to fetch it back again. Conquest of Grenada, Part 2. Act III. Lyndiraxa. A crown is come, and will not fate allow, And yet I feel something like death is near. My guards, my guards Let not that ugly skeleton appear. Sure destiny mistakes; this death's not mine; Bow quickly down and your submission show; [Dres. Conquest of Grenada, Part 2. Act V Ventidius. But you, ere love misled your wand'ring eyes Were, sure, the chief and best of human race, So perfect, that the gods who formed you wonder'd At their own skill, and cry'd, a lucky hit Has mended our design. Dryden, All for Love, Act I. Not to talk of the impiety of this sentiment, it is ludicrous instead of being lofty. The famous epitaph on Raphael is no less absurd than any of the foregoing passages: Raphel, timuit, quo sospite, vinci Imitated by Pope in his Epitaph on Sir Godfrey Kneller: Her works; and dying, fears herself might die. Such is the force of imitation; for Pope, of himself, would never have been guilty of a thought so extravagant. So much upon sentiments; the language proper for expressing them, comes next in order. CHAPTER XVII. LANGUAGE OF PASSION. Man has a propensity to communicate his passions and emotions-Venting a passion gives relief-Immoderate grief is silent, because it fills the mind-Immoderate love and revenge silent—Surprise and terror silent-They express in words, only the capital circumstances-Language should be adopted to the sentiment and passion-Elevated sentiments require elevated language-Tender sentiments, soft and flowing language-Figures give an agreeable character to sentiment-Gross errors, of passions expressed in flowing in an unequal course —The language of violent passion, interrupted and broken, soliloquíes particularly-Authors apt to use language above their tone of mind-To use language too figurative for the dignity and importance of the subject, an errorLanguage too light and airy for a serious passion-A thought that turns upon one expression instead of the subject-Expressions which have no distinct meaning. AMONG the particulars that compose the social part of our nature, a propensity to communicate our opinions, our emotions, and every thing that affects us, is remarkable. Bad fortune and injustice affect us greatly; and of these we are so prone to complain, that if we have no friend nor acquaintance to take part in our sufferings, we * sometimes utter our complaints aloud, even where there are none to listen. |