character, it is difficult to decide which
is most excellent. The learned have always been divided upon this head; as
we are at this day, with respect to the two poets of our own nation,(191)
whose tragedies have made our stage illustrious, and not inferior to that
of Athens.

I have observed, that the tender and pathetic distinguishes the
compositions of Euripides, of which Alexander of Pherae, the most cruel of
tyrants, was a proof. That barbarous man, upon seeing the _Troades_ of
Euripides acted, found himself so moved with it, that he quitted the
theatre before the conclusion of the play, professing that he was ashamed
to be seen in tears for the distress of Hecuba and Andromache, who had
never shown the least compassion for his own citizens, of whom he had
butchered such numbers.

When I speak of the tender and pathetic, I would not be understood to mean
a passion that softens the heart into effeminacy, and which, to our
reproach, is almost alone, or at least more than any other passion
received upon our stage, though rejected by the ancients, and condemned by
the nations around us of greatest reputation for their genius, and taste
for the sciences and polite learning. The two great principles for moving
the passions amongst the ancients, were terror and pity.(192) And, indeed,
as we naturally refer every thing to ourselves, or our own particular
interest, when we see persons of exalted rank or virtue sinking under
great evils, the fear of the like misfortunes, with which we know that
human life is on all sides invested, seizes upon us, and from a secret
impulse of self-love we find ourselves sensibly affected with the
distresses of others: besides which, the sharing a common nature(193) with
the rest of our species, makes us sensible to whatever befalls them. Upon
a close and attentive inquiry into those two passions, they will be found
the most deeply inherent, active, extensive, and general affections of the
soul; including all orders of men, great and small, rich and poor, of
whatever age or condition. Hence the ancients, accustomed to consult
nature, and to take her for their guide in all things, with reason
conceived terror and compassion to be the soul of tragedy; and that those
affections ought to prevail in it. The passion of love was in no
estimation amongst them, and had seldom any share in their dramatic
pieces; though with us it is a received opinion, that they cannot be
supported without it.

It is