Garrick is not King Lear, that the playhouse is not Dover cliffs, nor the noise he hears thunder and lightning. In a word, after an interruption of the reprefentation, it is not more difficult for a fpectator to imagine a new place, or a different time, than when the scene first opens, to imagine himself at Rome, or in a period of time two thousand years back. And indeed, it must appear ridiculous, that a critic, who makes no difficulty of fuppofing candlelight to be fun-fhine, and fome painted canvaffes a palace or a prifon, fhould affect fo much difficulty in imagining a latitude of place or of time in the ftory, beyond what is neceffary in the reprefentation.

There are, I acknowledge, fome effects of great latitude in time that ought never to be indulged in a compofition for the theatre: nothing can be more abfurd, than at the clofe to exhibit a full-grown person who appears a child at the beginning the mind rejects, as contrary to all probability, fuch latitude of time as is requifite for a change fo remarkable. The greatest change from place to place hath not altogether the fame bad effect in the bulk of human affairs place is not material; and the mind, when occupied with an interesting event, is little regardful of minute circumstances: these may be varied at will, because they scarce make any impreffion.

But though I have thus, taken arms to rescue modern poets from the defpotifm of modern critics, I would not be understood to justify liberty

without

without any reserve. An unbounded licence with relation to place and time, is faulty for a reason that seems to have been overlooked, that it feldom fails to break in upon the unity of action: in the ordinary course of human affairs, fingle events, fuch as are fit to be reprefented on the stage, are confined to a narrow fpot, and generally employ no great extent of time: we accordingly feldom find ftrict unity of action in a dramatic compofition, where any remarkable latitude is indulged in these particulars. I must fay further, that a compofition which employs but one place, and requires not a greater length of time than is neceffary for the representation, is fo far the more perfect: because the confining an event within fo narrow bounds, contributes to the unity of action; and also prevents that labour, however flight, which the mind muft undergo in imagining frequent changes of place and many intervals of time. But ftill I must infift, that the limitation of place and time which was neceffary in the Grecian drama, is no rule to us; and therefore, that though fuch limitation adds one beauty more to the compofition, it is at best but a refinement, which may juftly give place to a thousand beauties more fubftantial. And I may add, that it is extremely difficult, I was about to fay impracticable, to contract within the Grecian limits, any fable so fruitful of incidents in number and variety, as to give full fcope to the fluctuation of paffion.

the u

It may now appear, that critics who put nities of place and of time upon the fame footing with the unity of action, making them all equally effential, have not attended to the nature and conftitution of the modern drama. If they admit an interrupted reprefentation, with which no writer finds fault, it is plainly abfurd to condemn the greatest advantage it procures us, that of representing many interesting subjects excluded from the Grecian ftage. If there needs must be a reformation, why not reftore the ancient chorus and the ancient continuity of action? There is certainly no medium: for to admit an interruption without relaxing from the ftrict unities of place and of time, is in effect to load us with all the inconveniencies of the ancient drama, and at the fame time to with-hold from us its advantages.

And therefore the only proper question is, Whether our model be or be not a real improvement? This indeed may fairly be called in queftion; and in order to a comparative trial, fome particulars must be premised. When a play be gins, we have no difficulty to accommodate our minds to the scene of action, however diftant it be in time or in place; we know that the play is a representation only; and the imagination, with facility, adapts itself to every circumstance. Our fituation is very different after we are engaged: it is the perfection of reprefentation to hide itfelf, to impofe upon the fpectator, and to pro

duce

duce in him an impreffion of reality, as if he were fpectator of a real event *; but any interruption annihilates this impreffion, by roufing him out of his waking dream, and unhappily restoring him to his fenfes. So difficult it is to fupport this impreffion of reality, that much flighter interruptions than the interval between two acts are fufficient to diffolve the charm: in the 5th act of the Mourning Bride, the three first scenes are in a room of state, the fourth in a prifon; and the change is operated by shifting the fcene, which is done in a trice: but however quick the transition may be, it is impracticable to impose upon the fpectators fo far as to make them conceive that they are actually carried from the palace to the prifon: they immediately reflect, that the palace and prifon are imaginary, and that the whole is a fiction.

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From these premiffes one will be naturally led, at first view, to pronounce the frequent interruptions in the modern drama to be an imperfection. It will occur, "That every interruption "must have the effect to banish the dream of reality, and with it to banish our concern, which cannot fubfift while we are confcious that all is a fiction; and therefore, that in the modern "drama fufficient time is not afforded for the "fluctuation and fwelling of paffion, like what "is afforded in the Grecian drama, where there

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* Chap. 2. part 1. fect. 6.

"is no interruption." This reafoning, it must be owned, has a fpecious appearance: but we must not become faint-hearted upon the first repulfe; let us rally our troops for a fecond engagement.

Confidering attentively the ancient drama, we find, that though the reprefentation is never interrupted, the action is fufpended not lefs frequently than in the modern drama: there are five acts in each; and the only difference is, that in the former, when the action is fufpended, as it is at the end of every act, opportunity is taken of the interval to employ the chorus in finging. Hence it appears, that the Grecian continuity of representation cannot have the effect to prolong the impreffion of reality: to banish this impreffion, a fufpenfion of the action while the chorus is employ'd in finging, is not lefs operative than a total fuspension of the representation.

But to open a larger view, I am ready to flow, that a continued reprefentation, without a single paufe even in the principal action, fo far from an advantage, would be an imperfection; and that a representation with proper paufes, is better calculated for moving the audience, and making the deepest impreffions. This will be evident from the following confiderations. Reprefentation cannot very long fupport an impreffion of reality; for when the fpirits are exhausted by close attention, and by the agitation of paffion, an uneasiness enfues, which never fails to banish

the