As we observ'd elsewhere, there were two Sorts of Satire, the one of a lower Kind, and less confin'd; the other of a graver and severer Turn, and more sublime: So the former is suited to Comedy, the latter to Tragedy: For it is the Business of the one to ridicule the Follies of Mankind, and of the other to lash Vices, and Crimes of a deeper Dye. Hence Juvenal, a Writer of the sublimer Kind of Satire, seems to propose the Tragic Style for his Imitation.
[437] Grande Sophocleo carmen bacchamur hiatu.
The Satyr in a Rage, Struts in the Buskins of the Tragic Stage. Dryden.
Nor is it less the Province of Tragedy to improve Virtue, than correct, and expose Vice; Virtue, I say, and that heroic too: For Tragedy is a Sort of heroic Drama; no Kind of Poetry is more sacred; none, to which the noblest and best Sentiments are so suitable; none, in which more exalted Precepts of Virtue are, or, at least, may be deliver'd.
Tragedy, therefore, is, in all Respects, adapted to the Sublime: But if it should be ask'd, how I can reconcile this to Nature, that Men, of what Quality and Rank soever, should be suppos'd, in their private and common Conversation, to make such solemn Speeches, of so much Art and Elegance; when, in Fact, they rarely, if ever, talk in such Language: I must ingenuously own, that this Objection lies stronger against those Poems in which Actions are represented, than in which they are barely describ'd; and therefore, in this Respect, Tragedy must give Place to Epic. It may be observ'd, however, that even in Comedy, (which is suppos'd to be less concern'd in this Objection) it is impossible to imagine, that Persons should really support a Conversation, as they are represented to do, upon the Stage, and that it is full as natural to ascribe this Sublimity of Style to Kings and Heroes, as those smart Repartees, and fine Turns of Wit, to Persons of inferior Rank. But, upon the whole, the true Apology to be made for both, is, that these are probable Circumstances, if not true ones: It is enough, if they bear a near Resemblance to Truth, or if, as Horace has well express'd it,
[438] Ficta voluptatis causa sint proxima veris.
What was for Pleasure feign'd, be near the Truth.
For it is impossible that any Degree of Fiction should be the very Truth. Poets, as well as Painters, are allow'd to go beyond the Life: Nay, this is the very Point that shews their Skill most. When these imaginary Touches affect as strongly as real Truths; if we can be agreeably deceiv'd, even in spite of Conviction, how great is the Art, and how just the Triumph of the Deceiver? And this is what Horace means, in the following Lines:
[439] Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur Ire Poeta, meum qui pectus inaniter augit, Irritat, mulcet, falsis terroribus implet, Ut magus, & modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis.
I freely own, that Poet seems to shew The greatest Force of Genius, and of Art, Whose pow'rful Images can fill the Soul With Terrors not her own; can Pity raise, Or Joy, or soft Complacency diffuse: Who, by the wond'rous Magic of his Pen, With strong Deception on my Fancy plays, Now fixes me at Athens, now at Thebes. Ch. Carthy.