That _t.i.thes_ are due of common right is readily granted; and if this principle had been kept in its original straitness, it might, indeed, be supposed that to plead an exemption was to plead a long-continued _fraud_, and that no man could _be deceived_ in such a t.i.tle,--as the moment he bought land, he must know that he bought land t.i.thed: prescription could not aid him, for prescription can only attach on a supposed _bona fide_ possession. But the fact is, that the principle has been broken in upon.
Here it is necessary to distinguish two sorts of property.
1. Land carries no _mark_ on it to distinguish it as ecclesiastical, as t.i.thes do, which are a _charge_ on land; therefore, though it had been made _inalienable_, it ought perhaps to be subject to limitation. It might _bona fide_ be held.
But, first, it was not originally inalienable, no, not by the Canon Law, until the restraining act of the 11th [1st?] of Elizabeth. But the great revolution of the dissolution of monasteries, by the 31st Hen., ch. 13, has so mixed and confounded ecclesiastical with lay property, that a man may by every rule of good faith be possessed of it. The statute of Queen Elizabeth, ann. 1, ch. 1, [?] gave away the bishop"s lands.
So far as to _lands_.
As to _t.i.thes_, they are not things in their own nature subject to be barred by prescription upon the general principle. But t.i.thes and Church lands, by the statutes of Henry VIII. and the 11th [1st?] Eliz., have become objects _in commercio_: for by coming to the crown they became grantable in that way to the subject, and a great part of the Church lands pa.s.sed through the crown to the people.
By pa.s.sing to the king, t.i.thes became property to a mixed party; by pa.s.sing from the king, they became absolutely _lay_ property: the part.i.tion-wall was broken down, and t.i.thes and Church possession became no longer synonymous terms. No [A?] man, therefore, might become a fair purchaser of t.i.thes, and of exemption from t.i.thes.
By the statute of Elizabeth, the lands took the same course, (I will not inquire by what justice, good policy, and decency,) but they pa.s.sed into lay lands, became the object of purchases for valuable consideration, and of marriage settlements.
Now, if t.i.thes might come to a layman, land in the hands of a layman might be also t.i.the-free. So that there was an object which a layman might become seized of equitably and _bona fide_; there was something on which a prescription might attach, the end of which is, to secure the natural well-meaning ignorance of men, and to secure property by the best of all principles, continuance.
I have therefore shown that a layman may be equitably seized of Church lands,--2. of t.i.thes,--3. of exemption from t.i.thes; and you will not contend that there should be no prescription. Will you say that the alienations made before the 11th of Elizabeth shall not stand good?
I do not mean anything against the Church, her dignities, her honors, her privileges, or her possessions. I should wish even to enlarge them all: not that the Church of England is incompetently endowed. This is to take nothing from her but the power of making herself odious. If she be secure herself, she can have no objection to the security of others. For I hope she is secure from lay-bigotry and anti-priestcraft, for certainly such things there are. I heartily wish to see the Church secure in such possessions as will not only enable her ministers to preach the Gospel with ease, but of such a kind as will enable them to preach it with its full effect, so that the pastor shall not have the inauspicious appearance of a tax-gatherer,--such a maintenance as is compatible with the civil prosperity and improvement of their country.
HINTS
FOR
AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA.
NOTE.
These hints appear to have been first thoughts, which were probably intended to be amplified and connected, and so worked up into a regular dissertation. No date appears of the time when they were written, but it was probably before the year 1765.
HINTS
FOR AN ESSAY ON THE DRAMA.
It is generally observed that no species of writing is so difficult as the dramatic. It must, indeed, appear so, were we to consider it upon one side only. It is a dialogue, or species of composition which in itself requires all the mastery of a complete writer with grace and spirit to support. We may add, that it must have a fable, too, which necessarily requires invention, one of the rarest qualities of the human mind. It would surprise us, if we were to examine the thing critically, how few good original stories there are in the world. The most celebrated borrow from each other, and are content with some new turn, some corrective, addition, or embellishment. Many of the most celebrated writers in that way can claim no other merit. I do not think La Fontaine has one original story. And if we pursue him to those who were his originals, the Italian writers of tales and novels, we shall find most even of them drawing from antiquity, or borrowing from the Eastern world, or adopting and decorating the little popular stories they found current and traditionary in their country. Sometimes they laid the foundation of their tale in real fact. Even after all their borrowing from so many funds, they are still far from opulent. How few stories has Boccace which are tolerable, and how much fewer are there which you would desire to read twice! But this general difficulty is greatly increased, when we come to the drama. Here a fable is essential,--a fable which is to be conducted with rapidity, clearness, consistency, and surprise, without any, or certainly with very little, aid from narrative. This is the reason that generally nothing is more dull in telling than the plot of a play. It is seldom or never a good story in itself; and in this particular, some of the greatest writers, both in ancient and modern theatres, have failed in the most miserable manner.
It is well a play has still so many requisites to complete it, that, though the writer should not succeed in these particulars, and therefore should be so far from perfection, there are still enough left in which he may please, at less expense of labor to himself, and perhaps, too, with more real advantage to his auditory. It is, indeed, very difficult happily to excite the pa.s.sions and draw the characters of men; but our nature leads us more directly to such paintings than to the invention of a story. We are imitative animals; and we are more naturally led to imitate the exertions of character and pa.s.sion than to observe and describe a series of events, and to discover those relations and dependencies in them which will please. Nothing can be more rare than this quality. Herein, as I believe, consists the difference between the inventive and the descriptive genius. By the inventive genius I mean the creator of agreeable facts and incidents; by the descriptive, the delineator of characters, manners, and pa.s.sions. Imitation calls us to this; we are in some cases almost forced to it, and it is comparatively easy. More observe the characters of men than the order of things: to the one we are formed by Nature, and by that sympathy from which we are so strongly led to take a part in the pa.s.sions and manners of our fellow-men; the other is, as it were, foreign and extrinsical. Neither, indeed, can anything be done, even in this, without invention; but it is obvious that this invention is of a kind altogether different from the former. However, though the more sublime genius and the greatest art are required for the former, yet the latter, as it is more common and more easy, so it is more useful, and administers more directly to the great business of life.
If the drama requires such a combination of talents, the most common of which is very rarely to be found and difficult to be exerted, it is not surprising, at a time when almost all kinds of poetry are cultivated with little success, to find that we have done no great matters in this.
Many causes may be a.s.signed for our present weakness in that oldest and most excellent branch of philosophy, poetical learning, and particularly in what regards the theatre. I shall here only consider what appears to me to be one of these causes: I mean the wrong notion of the art itself, which begins to grow fashionable, especially among people of an elegant turn of mind with a weak understanding; and these are they that form the great body of the idle part of every polite and civilized nation. The prevailing system of that cla.s.s of mankind is indolence. This gives them an aversion to all strong movements. It infuses a delicacy of sentiment, which, when it is real, and accompanied with a justness of thought, is an amiable quality, and favorable to the fine arts; but when it comes to make the whole of the character, it injures things more excellent than those which it improves, and degenerates into a false refinement, which diffuses a languor and breathes a frivolous air over everything which it can influence....
Having differed in my opinion about dramatic composition, and particularly in regard to comedy, with a gentleman for whose character and talents I have a very high respect, I thought myself obliged, on account of that difference, to a new and more exact examination of the grounds upon which I had formed my opinions. I thought it would be impossible to come to any clear and definite idea on this subject, without remounting to the natural pa.s.sions or dispositions of men, which first gave rise to this species of writing; for from these alone its nature, its limits, and its true character can be determined.
There are but four general principles which can move men to interest themselves in the characters of others, and they may be cla.s.sed under the heads of good and ill opinion: on the side of the first may be cla.s.sed admiration and love, hatred and contempt on the other. And these have accordingly divided poetry into two very different kinds,--the panegyrical, and the satirical; under one of which heads all genuine poetry falls (for I do not reckon the didactic as poetry, in the strictness of speech).
Without question, the subject of all poetry was originally direct and personal. Fict.i.tious character is a refinement, and comparatively modern; for abstraction is in its nature slow, and always follows the progress of philosophy. Men had always friends and enemies before they knew the exact nature of vice and virtue; they naturally, and with their best powers of eloquence, whether in prose or verse, magnified and set off the one, vilified and traduced the other.
The first species of composition in either way was probably some general, indefinite topic of praise or blame, expressed in a song or hymn, which is the most common and simple kind of panegyric and satire.
But as nothing tended to set their hero or subject in a more forcible light than some story to their advantage or prejudice, they soon introduced a narrative, and thus improved the composition into a greater variety of pleasure to the hearer, and to a more forcible instrument of honor or disgrace to the subject.
It is natural with men, when they relate any action with any degree of warmth, to represent the parties to it talking as the occasion requires; and this produces that mixed species of poetry, composed of narrative and dialogue, which is very universal in all languages, and of which Homer is the n.o.blest example in any. This mixed kind of poetry seems also to be most perfect, as it takes in a variety of situations, circ.u.mstances, reflections, and descriptions, which must be rejected on a more limited plan.
It must be equally obvious, that men, in relating a story in a forcible manner, do very frequently mimic the looks, gesture, and voice of the person concerned, and for the time, as it were, put themselves into his place. This gave the hint to the drama, or acting; and observing the powerful effect of this in public exhibitions....
But the drama, the most artificial and complicated of all the poetical machines, was not yet brought to perfection; and like those animals which change their state, some parts of the old narrative still adhered.
It still had a chorus, it still had a prologue to explain the design; and the perfect drama, an automaton supported and moved without any foreign help, was formed late and gradually. Nay, there are still several parts of the world in which it is not, and probably never may be, formed. The Chinese drama.
The drama, being at length formed, naturally adhered to the first division of poetry, the satirical and panegyrical, which made tragedy and comedy.
Men, in praising, naturally applaud the dead. Tragedy celebrated the dead.
Great men are never sufficiently shown but in struggles. Tragedy turned, therefore, on melancholy and affecting subjects,--a sort of threnodia,--its pa.s.sions, therefore, admiration, terror, and pity.
Comedy was satirical. Satire is best on the living.
It was soon found that the best way to depress an hated character was to turn it into ridicule; and therefore the greater vices, which in the beginning were lashed, gave place to the _contemptible_. Its pa.s.sion, therefore, became ridicule.
Every writing must have its characteristic pa.s.sion. What is that of comedy, if not ridicule?
Comedy, therefore, is a satirical poem, representing an action carried on by dialogue, to excite laughter by describing ludicrous characters.
See Aristotle.
Therefore, to preserve this definition, the ridicule must be either in the action or characters, or both.
An action may be ludicrous, independent of the characters, by the ludicrous situations and accidents which may happen to the characters.
But the action is not so important as the characters. We see this every day upon the stage.
What are the characters fit for comedy?
It appears that no part of human life which may be subject to ridicule is exempted from comedy; for wherever men run into the absurd, whether high or low, they may be the subject of satire, and consequently of comedy. Indeed, some characters, as kings, are exempted through decency; others might be too insignificant. Some are of opinion that persons in better life are so polished that their tone characters and the real bent of their humor cannot appear. For my own part, I cannot give entire credit to this remark. For, in the first place, I believe that good-breeding is not so universal or strong in any part of life as to overrule the real characters and strong pa.s.sions of such men as would be proper objects of the drama. Secondly, it is not the ordinary, commonplace discourse of a.s.semblies that is to be represented in comedy.
The parties are to be put in situations in which their pa.s.sions are roused, and their real characters called forth; and if their situations are judiciously adapted to the characters, there is no doubt but they will appear in all their force, choose what situation of life you please. Let the politest man alive game, and feel at loss; let this be his character; and his politeness will never hide it, nay, it will put it forward with greater violence, and make a more forcible contrast.[3]
But genteel comedy puts these characters, not in their pa.s.sionate, but in their genteel light; makes elegant cold conversation, and virtuous personages.[4] Such sort of pictures disagreeable.
Virtue and politeness not proper for comedy; for they have too much or no movement.