extolled simplicity of the French plots, as actual
barrenness, compared to the variety and copiousness
of the English stage; and their authors’ limiting
the attention of the audience and interest of the
piece to a single principal personage, is censured
as poverty of imagination, when opposed to the diversification
of characters exhibited in the dramatis personae
of the English poets. Shakespeare and Jonson
are then brought forward, and contrasted with the
French dramatists, and with each other. The former
is extolled, as the man of all modern, and perhaps
ancient, poets, who had the largest and most comprehensive
soul, and intuitive knowledge of human nature; and
the latter, as the most learned and judicious writer
which any theatre ever had. But to Shakespeare,
Dryden objects, that his comic sometimes degenerates
into clenches, and his serious into bombast;
to Jonson, the sullen and saturnine character of his
genius, his borrowing from the ancients, and the insipidity
of his latter plays. The examen leads to the
discussion of a point, in which Dryden had differed
with Sir Robert Howard. This was the use of rhyme
in tragedy. Our author had, it will be remembered,
maintained the superiority of rhyming plays, in the
Introduction to the “Rival Ladies.”
Sir Robert Howard, the catalogue of whose virtues
did not include that of forbearance made a direct answer
to the arguments used in that Introduction; and while
he studiously extolled the plays of Lord Orrery, as
affording an exception to his general sentence against
rhyming plays, he does not extend the compliment to
Dryden, whose defence of rhyme was expressly dedicated
to that noble author. Dryden, not much pleased,
perhaps, at being left undistinguished in the general
censure passed upon rhyming plays by his friend and
ally, retaliates in the Essay, by placing in the mouth
of Crites the arguments urged by Sir Robert Howard,
and replying to them in the person of Neander.
To the charge, that rhyme is unnatural, in consequence
of the inverted arrangement of the words necessary
to produce it, he replies, that, duly ordered, it
may be natural in itself, and therefore not unnatural
in a play; and that, if the objection be further insisted
upon, it is equally conclusive against blank verse,
or measure without rhyme. To the objection founded
on the formal and uniform recurrence of the measure,
he alleges the facility of varying it, by throwing
the cadence upon different parts of the line, by breaking
it into hemistichs, or by running the sense into another
line, so as to make art and order appear as loose
and free as nature.[19] Dryden even contends, that,
for variety’s sake, the pindaric measure might
be admitted, of which Davenant set an example in the
“Siege of Rhodes.” But this licence,
which was probably borrowed from the Spanish stage,
has never succeeded elsewhere, except in operas.
Finally, it is urged, that rhyme, the most noble verse,
is alone fit for tragedies, the most noble species