ternals of a theatrical representation
are opposed to this notion; all is merely a symbol of the real. The
day itself in a theatre is an artificial one; the metrical dialogue is
itself ideal; yet the conduct of the play must forsooth be real, and
the general effect sacrificed to a part. Thus the French, who have
utterly misconceived the spirit of the ancients, adopted on their
stage the unities of time and place in the most common and empirical
sense; as though there were any place but the bare ideal one, or any
other time than the mere sequence of the incidents.

By the introduction of a metrical dialogue an important progress has
been made toward the poetical Tragedy. A few lyrical dramas have been
successful on the stage, and Poetry, by its own living energy, has
triumphed over prevailing prejudices. But so long as these erroneous
views are entertained little has been done--for it is not enough
barely to tolerate as a poetic license that which is, in truth, the
essence of all poetry. The introduction of the Chorus would be the
last and decisive step; and if it only served this end, namely, to
declare open and honorable warfare against naturalism in art, it would
be for us a living wall which Tragedy had drawn around herself, to
guard her from contact with the world of reality, and maintain her own
ideal soil, her poetical freedom.

It is well known that the Greek tragedy had its origin in the Chorus;
and though, in process of time, it became independent, still it may be
said that poetically, and in spirit, the Chorus was the source of its
existence, and that without these persevering supporters and witnesses
of the incident a totally different order of poetry would have grown
out of the drama. The abolition of the Chorus, and the debasement of
this sensibly powerful organ into the characterless substitute of a
confidant, is, by no means, such an improvement in tragedy as the
French, and their imitators, would have it supposed to be.

The old Tragedy, which at first only concerned itself with gods,
heroes and kings, introduced the Chorus as an essential accompaniment.
The poets found it in nature, and for that reason employed it. It grew
out of the poetical aspect of real life. In the new Tragedy it becomes
an organ of art which aids in making the poetry prominent. The modern
poet no longer finds the Chorus in nature; he must needs create and
introduce it poetically; that is, he must resolve on such an
adaptation o