prince of Condé called "the Breviary of kings," Maximus whines like a shepherd in the Pastor Fido, even in the midst of profound political reflections, that equal those of Tacitus and Machiavel; and while the most important event that could happen to the empire of the world was debating. In his imitation of the Electra of Sophocles, Crebillon has introduced a frigid love intrigue. Achilles must be in love in the Iphigenia of Racine; and the rough Mithridates must be involved in this universal passion. A passion, however, it is, that will always shine upon the stage, where it is introduced as the chief subject, but not subordinate and secondary.* Thus, perhaps, there cannot be finer Heu, heu! cur me oculis aspicitis, liberi? Cur arridetis hoc extremo risû? Heu, heu! quid faciam? cor enim mihi disperit! Euripid. Medea. Ver. 1041. No sentiments of the Lover can be so tender, and so deeply touching, as these of the Mother. * L'Amour furieux, criminel, malheureux, suivi de remords, arrache de nobles larmes. Point de milieu: il faut, ou que l'amour domine en tiran, ou qu'il ne paroisse pas. Oeuvres de Voltaire. Tom. xii. page 153. I have just been told, that CHATEAUBRUN also very lately made poor Philoctetes in love in his Desert Island. subjects for a drama, than Phædra, Romeo, Othello, and Monimia. The whole distress in these pieces arises singly from this unfortunate passion, carried to an extreme.* The GREATER passions were the constant subjects of the Grecian; the TENDERER passions of the French and English theatres. Terror reigned in the former; pity occupies the latter. The moderns may yet boast of some pieces, that are not emasculated with this epidemical effeminacy. Racine was at last convinced of its impropriety, and gave the public his admirable Athalia; in which were no parts, commonly called by the French, d'amoreux & de l'amoreuse, which parts were always given to their two capital actors. The Merope, Mahomet, and Orestes, of Voltaire, are likewise free from any ill-placed tenderness, and romantic gallantry; for which he has merited the praises of the learned father Tournemine, in a letter to his *The introduction of female actresses on the modern stage, together with that importance which the ladies in these latter ages have justly gained, in comparison to what the ancients allowed them, are the two great reasons, among others, of the prevalence of these tender tales. The ladies of Athens had not interest or abilities enough to damn a piece of Sophocles or Euripides. his friend father Brumoy.* But LEAR and MACBETH are also striking instances what interesting tragedies may be written, without having recourse to a love-story. It is pity that the tragedy of Cato, in which all the rules of the drama, as far as the mechanism of writing reaches, are observed, is not exact with respect to the unity of time. There was no occasion to extend the time of the fable longer than the mere representation takes up; all might have passed in the compass of three hours from the morning, with a description of which the play opens; if the poet, in the fourth scene of the fifth act, had not talked of the setting sun playing on the armour of the soldiers. Having been imperceptibly led into this little criticism on the tragedy of Cato, I beg leave to speak a few words on some other of Addison's pieces. The first of his poems, addressed to S 3 * Les Oeuvres de Voltaire, tom. viii. 38. Dryden, + Tickel has ridiculously marked the author's age to be but twenty-two and twenty-seven; as if these verses were extraordinary efforts at that age! To these, however, Addison owed his introduction at court, and his acquaintance with that polite patron, Lord Somers, Dryden, Sir John Somers, and King William, are languid, prosaic, and void of any poetical imagery or spirit. The Letter from Italy is by no means equal to a subject fruitful of genuine poetry, and which might have warmed the most cold and correct imagination. One would have expected, a young traveller, in the height of his genius and judgment, would have broke out into some strokes of enthusiasm. With what flatness and unfeelingness has he spoken of statuary and painting! Raphaël never received a more flegmatic eulogy. The slavery and superstition of the present Romans, are well touched upon towards the conclusion; but I will venture to name a little piece on a parallel subject, that excels this celebrated Letter; and in which is much lively and original imagery, strong painting, and manly sentiments of freedom. It is a copy of verses written at Virgil's Tomb, and printed in Dodsley's *Miscellanies. That there are many well-wrought descriptions, and even pathetic strokes, in the Campaign, it would be stupidity and malignity to deny. But surely * Vol. iv. page 114. surely the regular march which the poet has observed from one town to another, as if he had been a commissary of the army, cannot well be excused. There is a passage in Boileau, so remarkably applicable to this fault of Addison, that one would almost be tempted to think he had the Campaign in his eye, when he wrote it, if the time would admit * it. Loin ces rimeurs craintifs, dont l'esprit phlegmatique Ait fait déja tomber-les remparts de † Coutrai. The most spirited verses Addison has written, are, an Imitation of the Third Ode of the Third Book of Horace, which is, indeed, performed with energy and vigour; and his compliment S 4 to * But the Art of Poetry was written in the year 1672, many years before the Campaign. Addison might have profited by this rule of his acquaintance, for whom he had a great re spect. + L'Art poetique. Ch. ii. |