s I am not of that opinion; but it is necessary that the hero of
the play be not a villain; that is, the characters, which should move
our pity, ought to have virtuous inclinations, and degrees of moral
goodness in them. As for a perfect character of virtue, it never was
in nature, and therefore there can be no imitation of it; but there
are allays of frailty to be allowed for the chief persons, yet so that
the good which is in them shall outweigh the bad, and consequently
leave room for punishment on the one side, and pity on the other.

After all, if any one will ask me, whether a tragedy cannot be made
upon any other grounds than those of exciting pity and terror in
us;--Bossu, the best of modern critics, answers thus in general: That
all excellent arts, and particularly that of poetry, have been
invented and brought to perfection by men of a transcendent genius;
and that, therefore, they, who practise afterwards the same arts, are
obliged to tread in their footsteps, and to search in their writings
the foundation of them; for it is not just that new rules should
destroy the authority of the old. But Rapin writes more particularly
thus, that no passions in a story are so proper to move our
concernment, as fear and pity; and that it is from our concernment we
receive our pleasure, is undoubted. When the soul becomes agitated
with fear for one character, or hope for another; then it is that we
are pleased in tragedy, by the interest which we take in their
adventures.

Here, therefore, the general answer may be given to the first
question, how far we ought to imitate Shakespeare and Fletcher in
their plots; namely, that we ought to follow them so far only, as they
have copied the excellencies of those who invented and brought to
perfection dramatic poetry; those things only excepted, which
religion, custom of countries, idioms of languages, &c. have altered
in the superstructures, but not in the foundation of the design.

How defective Shakespeare and Fletcher have been in all their plots,
Mr Rymer has discovered in his criticisms. Neither can we, who follow
them, be excused from the same, or greater errors; which are the more
unpardonable in us, because we want their beauties to countervail our
faults. The best of their designs, the most approaching to antiquity,
and the most conducing to move pity, is the "King and no King;" which,
if the farce of Bessus were thrown away, is of that inferior sort of
tragedies, whic