I SECT. XIII. F we will confider Shakespeare's tragedies, as dramatic heroic poems, fome ending with a happy, others with an unhappy catastrophe ; why then, if Homer introduces a buffoon character, both among his gods and heroes in his Iliad, and a ridiculous monfter Polypheme in his Odyffey, might not Shakespeare in his heroic drama exhibit a Falstaff, a Caliban, or I 3 2 clown? 1 A limping Vulcan takes upon him the office of Gany mede. Il. . He advises the gods not to trouble their heads about wretched mortals. I wonder fome of the commentators, who are fond of fetching every thing from Homer, never thought of making Epicurus fteal his philolofophy from Vulcan.. 2 Therfites. II. G. Where Euftathius has this remark, "The tragic poets aim at what is grave and ferious, and "treat fublimely the events of things. The comedians on the contrary treat things ludicroufly, and leffen them. In "Homer thefe tragic and comic characters are found mixed ; for he plainly acts the comedian when he leffens and brings down from its heroic ftation, the character of "Therfites." 99 3 The character of Polyphemus appear'd to Euripides fo proper for farce; that from hence he form'd his fatyric play, The Cyclops. Ulyffes told the monster his name was QXTIZ, or Noman. Polyphemus' eye being put out, he calls to his friends, Ω φίλοι clown ? Here is no mixture of various fables : tho' the incidents are many, the ftory is one. 'Tis true, there is a mixture of characters, not all proper to excite thofe tragic paffions, pity and terror; the ferious and comic being fo blended, as to form in some measure what Plau Ω φίλοι ΟΥΤΙΣ με κλείνει δόλῳ, ἐδὲ βίρφι. In Euripies the scene is as follows, ΚΥΚ. ΟΥΤΙΣ μ' απώλεσεν, ΧΟ. Οὐκ ἀπ' ἐδεὶς ἠδίκει. ΚΥΚ. ΟΥΤΙΣ με τυφλοί βλέφαρον, ΧΟ. Οὐκ ἀρ' εἴ τυφλός. ΚΥΚ. Ως δὴ σύ. ΧΟ. Καὶ πῶς σ ̓ ἔτις ἂν θείη τυφλόν ; ΚΥΚ. Σκώπλεις, ὁδ ̓ ΟΥΤΙΣ τῶ εἰ ; ΧΟ. Οὐδαμε, Κύκλωψ. Cyc. Noman hath killed me. Cho. Then no one bath hurt thee. Cyc. Noman puts out my eye. Cho. Then thou'rt not blind. Cyc. Would thou waft fo. Cho. Can no man make thee blind? Cyc. You mock me; where is Noman ? · tus calls tragicomedy; where, not two different ftories, the one tragic, the other comic, are preposterously jumbled together, as in the Spanish Fryar, and Oroonoko: but the unity of the fable being preserved, feveral ludicrous characters are interfperfed, as in a heroic poem. Nor does the mind from hence fuffer any violence, being only accidentally called off from the serious story, to which it foon returns again, and perhaps better prepared by this little refreshThe tragic episode of Dido is followed by the sports in honour of old Anchifes. Immediately after the quarrel among the heroes, and the wrathful debates arising in heaven, the deformed Vulcan affumes the office of cupbearer, and raises a laugh among the heavenly fynod. Milton has introduced a piece of mirth in his battle of the gods; where the evil spirits, elevated with a little fuccefs, 7 ftand scoffing and 4 In his prologue to Amphitryo. ment. Faciam ut commiffa fit tragicomoedia : quo veniant et Dii, non par arbitror. 5 Virg. Aen. IV. and V. 6 Hom. II. ά. 7 The fpeeches which Satan and Belial make in derifion, are after the caft of Homer, Il. v. 374. and Il. '. 745 punning punning in pleasant vein. But these are masterly ftrokes, and touches of great artists, not to be imitated by poets who creep on the ground, but by those only who foar with the eagle wings of Homer, Milton, or Shakespeare. But fo far at leaft must be acknowledged true of our dramatic poet, that he is always a strict obferver of decorum; and conftantly a friend to the cause of virtue: hence he fhews, in it's proper light, into what miferies mankind are led by indulging wrong opinions. No philofopher feems ever to have more minutely examined into the different manners, paffions, and inclinations of mankind; nor is there known a character, perhaps that of Socrates only excepted, where refined ridicule, raillery, wit, and humour, were fo mixed and united with what is most grave and ferious in morals and philosophy. This is the magic with which he works fuch wonders. Pectus inaniter angit, Irritat, mulcet, falfis terroribus implet, IT seems to me, that this philosophical mixture of character is fcarce at all attended to by the moderns. Our grave writers are dully grave; and our men of wit are loft to all fenfe of gravity. 'Tis all formality, or all buffoonry. However this mixture is vifible in the writings of Shakespeare; he knew the pleafing force of humour, and the dignity of gravity. And he is the best inftance, that can be cited, to countenance that famous paffage in Plato's banquet, where the philofopher makes a tragic and a comic poet both allow, againft their inclinations, that he who according to the best rules of art was a writer of tragedy, must be likewise a good writer of comedy. 8 8 The Banquet was held in Agatho's houfe, a tragic poet. The person, who relates, concludes with faying, that having drunken a little too much, and fallen fast asleep, he waked just about break of day, when he found Agatho the tragedian, and Ariftophanes the comedian difputing. with Socrates. Socrates had brought both these poets to confess what is mention'd above. And yet it is obfervable that, among the ancient dramatic writers, the fock and bufkin perhaps never interfered: Sophocles and Euripides never wrote comedies: Aristophanes and Menander never attempted tragedies. SECT. XIV. Tis furprifing how, in fo fhort a time, Shakespeare and Johnfon could bring the ftage to fuch perfection, that after them it received no farther improvement. But what can |