[Y] WE have already traced the origin of this appendage to the ancient tragedy; and shewn that it was not at least invented for the purpose of heightening either the probability of dramatic representation, or affifting its moral tendency. That it has these effects, as well as fome other collateral advantages has been the opinion of fome of the most judicious critics both of the French and English school. I shall therefore examine how far this opinion appears to be founded on truth; dividing my enquiry into three heads. The effect of the chorus, on dramatic probability. On the moral influence of the drama. And on the conduct of the fable, by preventing unmeaning conversation between confidents, officers, &c. for the fake of unfolding events to the audience which they could not otherwise learn. For on these three points all the arguments in favor of the chorus seem to reft. A And first as to the probability. The bishop of Worcester in his notes on the Epistle to the Pifos makes the following observation. ' chorus interpofing, and bearing a part in the progress of the action gives the representation that probability, and striking resemblance of • real life which (z] EVERY MAN OF SENSE perceives, or feels the [Y] See Note II. this chapter. [z] With all my respect for this elegant critic, I think he has gone a little too far in branding all who differ in opinion with him on, at least a disputed hypothefis, with folly. It favors a little of the concluding decree in Bramston's' Man of Taste.' This is true taste, and whoso likes it not, Is blockhead, coxcomb, puppy, fool, and fot.' want

POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. ' want of, upon our stage; a want which nothing but such an expedi- ⚫ent as the chorus can possibly supply.' In this passage probability of action is evidently confounded with probability of representation. If the fable is well formed, the situations affecting, the language adapted to the paffion, and these assisted by the natural expression and powers of the actor [A], without doubt the allufion is compleat. We are hurried away by our feelings, and we yield to the impression of the scene. But in this case we never enquire where we are, or how it is poffible fuch a scene should pass before fuch a number of spectators as furround us; at such a question the whole delusion vanishes, and instead of being in. the castle of Macbeth, or the tent of King John, we instantly find ourselves in the Theatre Royal. It is impossible for any notion to be more unfounded on truth than that which supposes that no dramatic action can have the requifite probability for public representation that may not be supposed to pass before spectators, and that consequently a dramatic audience before whom the real action is supposed to pass is necessary both to encrease the probability of the scene, and confine the poet to such events as may naturally happen in public. It is proved beyond a doubt that when we reflect for an instant, a momentary suspension of the delirium in which we [A] It may tend to some elucidation of this subject to enquire how the force of dramatic illusion is effected by the being acquainted with the voice and person of the actors, or by being in habits of intimacy with them. I think there is no doubt that the different effects of the itinerant preacher, and the regular clergyman on the lower part of the congregation, arifes in great measure, though not entirely, from this. But then in this case the difference arises from the opinion entertained as to their being really in earnest, and the little opportunity there is of feeing in one how his doctrine may be contradicted by his life; while an actor, however strange to us, is always known to be an actor. Gg 2 are

are involved by the combined arts of poet and the player, convinces us where we really are. The ornaments of the theatre, however well adapted to the play, (and, when well adapted, they certainly encrease the delusion while it lasts, and flatter our love of propriety when it ceafes,) no more deceive us than if the performance were in an indifferent room. The moment therefore we come to confider that there are other spectators befides ourselves, this disenchantment is effected. [B] In fact, the border of the stage may be confidered as the frame of a picture, dividing the real from the imaginary scene; and there is no more impropriety in imagining an action, or converfation of the most private nature, to pass before a crouded theatre, than for a picture of Diana bathing to be shewn in a full exhibition room at the Royal Academy. That real delufion may have taken place in weak or in deranged minds I will not deny. A countryman who had never seen a play might mistake the reprefentation for the reality; and if they are not founded on truth, at the least there is no improbability in the stories of the [c] clown, who got up to go out on the entrance of the players [B] Since the above was written I have had the pleasure to fee the fame remark made and illustrated in Mr. Saunders's Treatise on Theatres. • A division is necessary between the ⚫ theatre and the stage, and should be so characterised as to assist the idea of their being two • diftinct places.' - Were a painted frame to be proposed for a picture, how would the • connoiffeurs exclaim! The scene is the picture, the frontispiece is the frame, or in other ◄ words, the frame should contrast the picture, and thereby add to the delusion.' P. 36, 84. [c] I once was present at the representation of The Recruiting Officer by a strolling company, when a country fellow rather weak in his intellects went upon the stage to enlist as Serjeant Kite was distributing the king's picture. It appeared he was ferious in his intent, from his enlisting with the first recruiting party that came into the town afterwards. as

POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. as imagining them difcoursing on private business; and the failor who, provoked to fee the death of Effex likely to happen from the countess of Nottingham concealing the ring when Elizabeth asked her, • What, said he nothing of a private import? • No circumstance-no pledge-no ring?' on Nottingham's answering 'none!' roared out from the gallery, 'It is ، a d-'d lie, for I saw him give it her myself.' The behaviour therefore of Partridge, at the representation of Hamlet in Tom Jones is not unnatural, any more than that of Don Quixote among the puppets, since the fame man who mistook a windmill for a giant, might easily suppose a puppet-shew to be a reality. All the consequences then of this boasted additional probability which tragedy would derive from the use of a chorus seem to be these. First, it must oblige the poet to confine the time of action within the precife time of the representation. For when this time is exceeded on the Grecian stage, of which there are many instances, the natural and probable unity of time is violated from the continual prefence of the chorus, notwithstanding the latitude allowed by Aristotle [D]. And secondly, without any reason founded on the truth of representation, it deprives him of situations in every respect the most interesting, and most fitted to the purpose of tragedy that his imagination can conceive. Indeed the stilts, the monstrous masks, and the unnatural recitation of the ancient theatre, made the chorus not so great an encumbrance there as it would be on ours. The effect of the Grecian drama was almost universally derived from great and striking events, and seldom from the [D] See Note III. Chap. v. dialogue,

dialogue which is so great a source both of terror and distress on our stage. The most affecting scenes on the modern theatre, and which give the most ample scope to the genius of the poet, and the exertions of the player, are those where one character is working on the feelings of another; scenes, of which if there are any, there are only faint traces to be discovered in the Grecian tragedy, and which indeed are utterly incompatible with the constant prefence of a chorus. Surely the most sanguine admirer of antiquity cannot hesitate a moment in condemning an hypothesis which, if received, must immediately banish from the stage the scenes between Lady Macbeth and her husband, Iago and Othello, and King John and Hubert. Before I quit the probability of the chorus, I must beg to cite a passage from M. Brumoy in favor of it. • I know,' he says, it has < some inconveniencies, and it has sometimes thrown the ancients • into errors against probability, but its advantages infinitely more than ⚫ balance its inconveniencies. (E) Sophocles knew how to get rid of • the chorus for a few moments when he had occafion to do it; as in • his Ajax. It is the poet therefore, and not the chorus that ought to ⚫ be blamed when he is put to inconvenience by it.' I perfectly agree with M. Brumoy in this position, that the poet is solely to blame who admits the chorus where he can get rid of it (as every modern poet can) in every place where it cannot be admitted with propriety, and this I think comprehends every part of the action. Between the acts it might be admitted with strict propriety, but it is perhaps impracticable from a reason already mentioned (F). M. Brumoy then proceeds to state the conveniencies of the chorus, which are those [E] See Note III. Chap. XI. [F] See Note II. Chap. VI.. already

POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. already mentioned, and concludes with a description of the [G] dance which accompanied the choral ode, I suppose, as a decisive proof of the PROBABILITY it gave to dramatic representation. We next come to the moral effect of the chorus, or the advantage the drama derives in this respect from the remarks made on the conduct and sentiments of the characters during the course of the action. This has afforded the critics an ample field for panegyric, and the opinion has been supported by some names highly eminent both for genius and learning. Mr. Mason in his Letters on Elfrida, (Letter 1v. near the end), after having mentioned Pierre as a character much 'calculated to leave false • and immoral impreffions on the spectator,' adds, that he knows of none more capable of doing service in a moral view, when justly ani- • madverted on by a chorus;' and says further, that bad characters become on this plan as harmless in the hands of the poet as the historian.' The case of the historian and the poet here, however, are widely different. The historian must recite facts as they are, or at least as he is informed they are, and therefore if they are so arranged as to be liable to make wrong impressions, as he cannot alter the arrangement, he must step forward in his own person, and make the necessary comment on [G] The chorus was arranged in three ranks, of five each when consisting of fifteen performers, and four when of twelve, who imitated in their evolutions the supposed motion of the heavenly bodies. Turning from right to left in imitation of the daily movement of the firmament from east to west while the first stanza was performing, which received from thence the name of STROPHE; and from left to right in imitation of the occafional movement of the planets from west to east during the second stanza or ANTISTROPHE; and remaining fixed during the third stanza or EPODE to mark the stability of the earth. Ben Jonson, in the first regular imitation we have of the Grecian ode, calls these stanzas by the names of turn, counterturn, and stand. the

the action. But it is the poet's fault if his action requires any fuch comment at all, as it is in his option to arrange his incidents as he chuses. If the poet really draws his fable, or forms his characters in fuch a manner as to have an immoral tendency, it is in vain for a chorus to come forward and try to explain it away or efface by words an impreffion that has been made by incident. And if the fable and characters have on the whole a moral tendency, whatever partial and temporary passages may have a contrary appearance in the course of the representation, any tranfient impression of that fort must be removed in the end without having recourse to so inartificial an expedient as the introduction of a chorus. If the manners either of a vicious or a ridiculous character are well marked either in tragedy or comedy, his words can have no dangerous effect on the audience even at the moment; because the spectator will never regulate his own conduct, and sentiments, by those • of a person, who from the opening of the piece is proposed to him as * an example of error and misfortune.'-TERRASSON.. This interference of the chorus is like the moral usually added to fables written for children, and the inutility of these is fairly demonstrated by Rousseau, in his Emilius [H], when he is speaking of the impropriety of putting the fables of La Fontaine into their hands. In short, if the poet has drawn vice amiable, and virtue contemptible or repelling, it is in vain for him to endeavour to alter the impression by a chorus. Indeed, we never want a chorus to define right from wrong. Do we want a chorus to tell us that Lovelace is an accomplished villain, and Grandifon a pattern of confummate virtue? and yet there is something fo repelling in the virtue of the one, and so amiable [H] Vol.I. Part 1. in

POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. in the manners of the other, that we can neither hate Lovelace nor like Grandison; therefore to use, with some alteration, the decision of M. Brumoy above quoted, ' It is the poet therefore and not the ab- • fence of the chorus that is to be blamed, when he is put to inconve- ⚫ nience by the want of it.' How cold, how unaffecting, how fuperfluous, would the animadversion of a chorus be on the fufferings of a Lear, or the crimes of a Macbeth, compared with the utterance of their own feelings and the effect of them on the other persons of the drama. It is THEIR expreffion of pity and terror! It is the horror shewn by the physician and attendant during Lady Macbeth's walking dream, and the indignation of Falconbridge at Hubert, as the supposed murderer of Arthur, that resemble the two horses in Le Brun's picture, 'who start back, with their hair standing an end left they should trample on the bleeding infants;' [1] and not the dull unimpaffioned reflections of a chorus. (K) A most elegant and judicious dramatic critic observes, 'that though it is the office • of the chorus, on the Grecian stage, to moralize, and to point out on every occafion the advantages of virtue over vice, yet how much less affecting are their animadverfions than the teftimony of the perfon • concerned! Whatever belongs to the chorus has hardly the effect of • dramatic imitation. The chorus is, in a manner, without personal character or interest, and no way an agent in the drama. We cannot fympathize with the cool reflections of these idle spectators as we do • with the sentiments of the perfons in whose circumstances and fituation we are interested.' [1] See quotation from the Abbe Vatry, cited by Mr. Mason in Letter Iv, on Elfrida. [K] See Mrs. Montague's Essay on the Writings and Genius of Shakespeare. Hh Should

Should the dramatic writer however find himself at a loss for want of a chorus, and not be contented or able to deduce the proper effect from the incidents and active characters of the piece, he must create one for the purpose of making moral reflections, which is always in his power, fince, as Brumoy observes, 'the chorus, properly speaking was the • honest man of the piece.' Therefore the poet may as well give this office to a Menenius, or an Ænobarbus, as to twelve or fifteen citizens or captives. It seems even the chorus did not always execute their office to the fatisfaction of the people of Athens. We are told by Ælian, that Efchylus was condemned by the senate for the impiety of one of his plays,. and faved only by the interceffion of his brother, who moved the compaffion of the assembly by shewing his arm without the hand, which he had loft at the battle of Salamis. And Seneca relates a fimilar story of Euripides, from which the Bishop of Worcester infers the neceffity of a chorus, though some people perhaps may think it rather shews its inefficacy: and that if the tendency of the action appears immoral to the spectators, a by-ftander will never be able to perfuade them it is moral. It now remains to notice the fuppofed advantage of the chorus, in obviating the neceffity of introducing useless confidents merely to say yes or no, while the principal characters are difclofing their secrets through them to the audience. But in fact, the difference of the ancient and modern theatre amounts only to this; an injudicious modern poet, who has no better mode of unfolding his fable to the spectator, invents a useless character; whereas an ancient poet, in the fame predicament avails. himself of one that the custom of the theatre supplies. But the impropriety

POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. propriety is exactly the fame, except that in one case the confident is alone, and in the other accompanied by attendants. Mr. Mafon, in his third letter on the tragedy of Elfrida, which he was advised to adapt to the modern stage, allows that, ' undoubtedly, • most part of the dialogue of the chorus might be put into the mouth ' of an Emma, or Matilda, who with fome little shew of sisterly concernment, might easily be made to claim kindred with Earl Athelwood.' I would not wish that the beautiful poems of Elfrida and Caractacus were in any respect different from what they are. They are above all criticism and all commendation; and we may furely allow Mr. Mason to be partial to a species of drama in which he has, in every eye not blinded by partiality to the ancients, at least equalled the noblest models of antiquity. But in regard to the subject we are confidering, dramatic propriety, the confidante he mentions would be at least as proper as the Coryphaea of his chorus, who appears to be only Elfrida's principal female servant; fince Orgar, speaking to the chorus, says, • Your garbs bespeak you for the fair attendants • Of fome illustrious dame, the wife or fifter • Of this dread Earl.' - and the answer allows the suggestion. ، ' well we know Fidelity's a virtue that ennobles • Even servitude itself.'- They should not therefore in the dramatis perfonæ, be styled chorus • of British virgins,' but ' of Elfrida's attendants.' Hh 2 It

It is besides much more improbable for a character to impart a fecret to twelve or fifteen persons than one. Of this the ancient tragic poets were aware, and often make their characters answer boldly for the fidelity of their numerous confidential friends. In the Electra of Sophocles, Orestes is cautious of speaking out before the chorus, confifting of Argive young women: but Electra encourages him. [L] OREST. 'I would tell you, if these women are friends." ELECT. But they are friends, therefore you will speak before those • who may be trusted.' In the Cœphori of Æschylus, Orestes is obliged to exhort the chorus, who are also women, in rather harsher terms than was confiftent with their independance [M]. • I would advise you to govern your ، tongues properly; to be filent when it is necessary, and speak only • what is convenient.' And in the Electra of Euripides, Orestes shews the fame caution as in the tragedy of Sophocles, and receives the fame affurance from his fister. [N] OREST. Are these, who hear our conversation friends? ELECTRA. So much so, as carefully to keep all we say secret. [1] Εγὼ φράσαιμ᾽ ἂν, ἐι τὸ τῶνδ᾽ ἐύνεν παρα. Αλλ᾽ ἔσιν ἔυναν ὥσε πρὸς πισὰς ἐρεις. [Μ] Ὑμῖν δ᾽ ἐπαινῶ γλῶσσαν ἐύφημον φερεῖν. Σιγᾶν θ᾽ ὅπε δεῖ, καὶ λέγειν τὰ καίρια. [Ν] ῾Αιδ᾽ ἐν φίλαι σοι τῆς δ᾽ ἀκούσιν λόγους; Ωσε σέγειν γε τὰ μὰ, καὶ σ᾽ ἐπη κάλως. The

POETIC OF ARISTOTLE. The inconvenience of a chorus to the poet, when he chuses a subject unfit for their continued presence, though in every other respect proper for the drama, is no where shewn more clearly than in the Hippolytus of Euripides. Indeed, it offends both against probability and morality. Nothing can be more improbable than for a woman to trust an incestuous paffion to her confidante before several other indifferent women: and nothing more immoral than for these women to promife to keep it secret, and to fulfil that promise though it occafioned the death of an innocent person. Those who have a mind to fee how a perfon can defend an hypothefis he favors, in defiance of his own reason and conviction, will be entertained with Brumoy's remarks on this tragedy; where, after all his arguments, he is obliged to allow their sophistry, and the real and radical defects of the chorus. • If these excuses, (he says) though • drawn from Euripides himself, appear too far-fetched, and are not fatisfactory to those who criticise the ancient theatre; these critics will agree, at least, that by these means the poet has diminished with a great deal of art the defect almost inseparable from the chorus, whose eternal prefence produces a spectacle always fine, often necessary, but sometimes embarraffing to the principal actors. We fee, plainly, that Euripides wished to avoid this defect, and yet retain the chorus: for if - this many-headed perfonage had been ignorant of Phædra's paffion, it - must have been mute and inactive. It would have become useless, • and would have deprived the scene of one of its most brilliant ornaments.' [o]. . ، ، [o] Le Pere Brumoy has made a false criticism on the Hippolytus of Seneca; he blames the poet for suffering Hippolytus to leave his sword in the hands of Phædra, a thing (he says) contrary to the manners of the Greeks, who were never armed but on a journey or in war." believe the critic forgot that Hippolytus was just returned from the chace. I. shall

I shall conclude this long note with Mr. Twining's summary, though comprehenfive view of the progress and decline of the chorus. At • first it was all; then relieved by the intermixture of dialogue, but still principal; then fubordinate; then digressive, and ill-connected with ' the piece; then borrowed from other pieces at pleasure; and so on to * the fiddles, and act tunes, at which Dacier is so angry.' CHAP.

μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας, οἷς μὲν δεῖ χρῆσθαι, πρότερον εἴπομεν - ταῦτ᾽ ἐστίν: vide quomodo interpolator, quem hac formula mire delectatum fuisse supra dixi, variandae orationi consuluerit. nimirum modo scripserat μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας, οἷς μὲν ὡς εἴδεσι δεῖ χρῆσθαι, nunc scribit μέρη δὲ τραγῳδίας, οἷς μὲν δεῖ χρῆσθαι, unde inepta oritur sententia, quasi partibus proxime enumeratis uti nihil cogat. moneo ne quis existimet haec librarii culpa ex initio capitis huc delapsa esse. si hoc factum esset, fideliter repetita forent omnia: nunc vero et variationem illam modo memoratam satisque gravem deprehendimus, et in capitis fine ταῦτ᾽ ἐστίν legimus, in initio τάδε ἐστί, et recte quidem : τάδε enim ad sequentia, ταῦτ' ad proxime praegressa refertur. εἴπομεν BCNa et M 14 XIV et GL: εἴπαμεν Ac et M 16 21 et Q. Bekkerus είπαμεν recepit.13. §. 2. 173