is natural enough, but more delicate. The gentleman
and the rustick have both sensibility and tenderness
of heart, perhaps, in greater or less degree; but
as they are men alike, the heart is moved by the same
touches. They both love, likewise, to send their
thoughts abroad, and to expand themselves in merriment;
but the springs which must be touched for this purpose
are not the same in the gentleman as in the rustick.
The passions depend on nature, and merriment upon education.
The clown will laugh at a waggery, and the gentleman
only at a stroke of delicate conceit. The spectators
of a tragedy, if they have but a little knowledge,
are almost all on a level; but with respect to comedy
we have three classes, if not more, the people, the
learned, and the court. If there are certain
cases in which all may be comprehended in the term
people, this is not one of those cases. Whatever
father Rapin may say about it, we are more willing
even to admire than to laugh. Every man, that
has any power of distinction, laughs as rarely as the
philosopher admires; for we are not to reckon those
fits of laughter which are not incited by nature,
and which are given merely to complaisance, to respect,
flattery, and good-humour; such as break out at sayings
which pretend to smartness in assemblies. The
laughter of the theatre is of another stamp.
Every reader and spectator judges of wit by his own
standard, and measures it by his capacity, or by his
condition: the different capacities and conditions
of men make them diverted on very different occasions.
If, therefore, we consider the end of the tragick
and comick poet, the comedian must be involved in much
more difficulties, without taking in the obstructions
to be encountered equally by both, in an art which
consists in raising the passions, or the mirth of
a great multitude. The tragedian has little to
do but to reflect upon his own thought, and draw from
his heart those sentiments which will certainly make
their way to the hearts of others, if he found them
in his own. The other must take many forms, and
change himself almost into as many persons, as he
undertakes to satisfy and divert.
It may be said, that, if genius be supposed equal,
and success supposed to depend upon genius, the business
will be equally easy and difficult to one author and
to the other. This objection is of no weight;
for the same question still recurs, which is, whether
of these two kinds of genius is more valuable, or
more rare? If we proceed by example, and not
by reasoning, we shall decide, I think, in favour of
comedy.
It may be said, that, if merely art be considered,
it will require deeper thoughts to form a plan just
and simple; to produce happy surprises, without apparent
contrivance; to carry a passion skilfully through
its gradations to its height; to arrive happily to
the end by always moving from it, as Ithaca seemed
to fly Ulysses; to unite the acts and scenes; and
to raise, by insensible degrees, a striking edifice,