The Unhappy Penitent | ||
To the Right Honourable CHARLES Lord HALLIFAX.
My Lord,
Since I first ventur'd into the World to stand the Test of Publick Censure, I have ever had in my aim as the highest Point of Ambition, to produce something worthy of your Lordships approbation, without which I esteem'd the Suffrages of the People, as the Votes of our Representatives, of no force till the Royal Assent Stamps them into a Law, which after none dare contradict: But conscious how far short of that Merit I have hitherto fall'n, and yet impatient to offer my intended Homage, I thus address you not as the Sovereign Judge of perfection, but as the Patron and Encourager or all who aspire to it, the no less God-like, tho' less awful Character; which how eminently your Lordships, the many who Flourish under your auspicious Influence are a prooff; for if we allow a Congreve to owe your Favour to your Strictest Justice, there are not Numbers who cou'd find their Safety but with me, in appealing to your Goodness; tho' I am apt to think more of our Poets wou'd arrive at perfection, if they observ'd their peculiar Talent, and confin'd themselves to it.
The most Universal Genius this Nation ever bred, Dryden himself did not excel in every part, through most of what he has writ there appears a distinguishing greatness, that Elevation of Thought, that Sublime which transports the Soul; he commands our Admiration of himself, but little moves our concern for those he represents; his Genius seems not turn'd to work upon the softer Passions, tho' some of his last Translations are excellent in that kind, nothing more lively, more tender, or more moving, but there the Words, alone are his, of which it must be confess'd he had on all Subjects the exactest Propriety, the most Expressive, and dispos'd into the sweetest Numbers.
Otway besides his Judicious Choice of the Fable, had a peculiar Art to move Compassion, which as it is one of the chief Ends of Tragedy, he found most adapted to his Genius, and never venturing where that did not lead him, excell'd in the Pathetick.
Had Lee consulted his strength as well, he might have giv'n us more perfect Pieces, but aiming at the sublime, instead of being Great he is extravagant; his Stile too swelling, and if we pursue him in his flights, he often carries us out of Nature: Had he restrain'd that vain Ambition, and intirely apply'd himself to describe the softest of the Passions, (for Love of all the rest he seems best to have understood, if that be allow'd a proper subject for Tragedy) he had certainly had fewer defects.
The inimitable Shakespear seems alone secure on every side from an attack, (for I speak not here of Faults against the Rules of Poetry, but against the natural Genius) he had all the Images of nature present to him, Study'd her throughly, and boldly copy'd all her various Features, for tho' he has chiefly exerted himself on the more Masculine Passions, 'tis as the choice of his Judgment not the restraint of his Genius, and he seems to have design'd those few tender moving Scenes he has giv'n us, as a prooff he cou'd be every way equally Admirable.
I know not how, my Lord, in designing only to hint an Obstacle to perfection in our Poets, I have unawares launch'd into a subject which I fear your Lordship will think unbecoming me to touch; but if Presidents may be admitted as a Plea, several wretched Poets before me have had the priviledge of passing their Censure on the best; however I may be allow'd to urge that the Fault which I have caution'd against, is not mine, I know too well the Bounds of my stinted Talent, and I fear may rather be accused of not having exerted the little strength I have, than of aiming beyond it in this weak Performance, which I presume not to offer your Lordship but as an object of your mercy; and like some City Ladies who are content to be the jest at Court rather than not appear there, I feel a Satisfaction in the Honour of being known to your Lordship, tho' only by my Faults. The knowledge of our Transgressions may be a considerable Step towards amending them for the future, but 'tis certainly a great aggravation of them in the Committing, which I must confess my self guilty of in Writing this Play, being sensible before I began it of a defect in the Plot, the only one I shall mention as the foundation of all the rest; the Distress is not great enough, the Subject of it only the misfortune of Lovers, which I partly design'd in Compliance with the effiminate taste of the Age; notwithstanding which, and the right of Possession, it has long held on the Modern Stage, I have ventur'd to propose a Doubt whether Love be a proper
Pariosse une foiblesse, & non une vertu.
The most that can be allow'd that Passion is to be the Noblest frailty of the Mind, but 'tis a Frailty, and becomes a Vice, when cherish'd as an exalted Vertue: A Passion which contracts the Mind, by fixing it intirely on one object, and sets all our happiness at Stake on so great hazard as the caprice, or fidelity of another, which if there were no greater is sure sufficient reason, not to Arm it with more Power than its own insinuating Nature; yet this is made the shining Vertue of our Heroes we are to rejoice in their success, or pitty their Disappointments, as Noble Lovers, Patterns for our imitation, not as Instances of humane Frailty, and I fear this has not been so constantly done without ill consequence; not but Love will maintain his Dominion in the World how muchsoever oppos'd, but if we resign him the heart, let us not give him up the Judgment too. On these Reflections I compos'd this Tragedy, in which the principal Characters are indeed doting Lovers, but hurry'd by their Passion into a Fault of which their immediate punishment makes them conscious, and at once deserve their Sufferings and our Pitty. This (I cannot forbear taking notice by the way) tho' giv'n by our great Master as an inviolabe Law in this sort of Poem, is yet observ'd by few without which tho' they may give Delight, they can rarely attain that End to which the other shou'd only be Subservient of forming an Instructive Moral.
What can I say, my Lord, in excuse for intruding my Remarks before so exact a Judge, when that which is my only motive to it makes it a Presumption, the Authority of your Lordships Judgment, for were it less I cou'd not have my End; If the Drammatick rules were justly observ'd, the Stage would soon retreive that Credit which the abuses of it has I fear with too great reason lost, and be again a useful Entertainment; which as I very much wish, I know not a Surer means to effect, than by proposing the method our Poets have taken, to your Lordships decisive Sentence, which wou'd have more force than all the severest Harangnes of the Pulpit; we are apt to Suspect Men of a particular Proffession, of over Zeal, or
The Unhappy Penitent | ||