Travels in France during the years 1814-15 / Comprising a residence at Paris, during the stay of the allied armies, and at Aix, at the period of the landing of Bonaparte, in two volumes.

by Sir Archibald Alison; Patrick Fraser Tytler

3. The next circumstance to which we allude, is that very remarkable one—of the dignity of sentiment, and elevation of thought, which uniformly characterise the compositions of the French stage. This is a perfection which, we believe, has never been denied by any one who is in any degree acquainted with these productions; and therefore we are anxious, as that very excellence has sometimes been thought to unfit them for actual representation, merely to state, from our own experience, the very great impression which such lofty and dignified sentiments, in the composition of the play, are fitted to produce. For ourselves we can say, that no dramatic representation on the English stage produced the same permanent effect with some of the greater compositions of the French tragedy; and we cannot but consider much of their influence to be owing to the sublime and elevating sentiments with which they abound. We could wish to see the tone of the tragedies which are now presented for the English stage, animated by the same strain of dignified thought, and become more worthy of the approbation of a great, and enlightened, and virtuous people.

Simple as these observations may appear, they yet suggest what we must consider as most important improvements in the composition and character of the English drama: The only tragedies which have been written for many years for our stage are, with a few exceptions, undeniably the feeblest productions in any branch of the national literature, and have in general carried, to the utmost extreme, the imperfections which existed in the works of those earlier writers whose genius and natural feeling they have never been able to equal. Whenever any change does occur in the character and tone of the tragedies of the English stage, we are persuaded that much will be gained by further acquaintance with the dramatic representations of the French theatre; and that the defects of our own theatre can only be avoided, by imitating some of the perfections of that drama, which we are accustomed at present so hastily to censure.

We have only now to remark, that while the works of Corneille, of Racine, and Voltaire, must ever remain conspicuous in the French drama, we shall judge very erroneously of the present character of the French stage, if we are only acquainted with these compositions of earlier times. The consequences of the revolution have been felt in the tone of dramatic composition, as in every other branch of literature, and in every condition of society. The misfortunes which all classes of the people have sustained,—the anxiety, and suspence, and terror, which they so often felt, and the insecurity which so long seemed to attend every enjoyment of human life, accustomed them so much to scenes of deep interest, and to profound emotion, that it became necessary, in the theatre, to have recourse to more powerful means of exciting their compassion, and engaging their interest, than was always afforded by the tragedies of the old writers. The same change, then, which is observable in many other branches of the French literature of late years, seems to have taken place, to a considerable extent, in compositions for the stage; and from the serious and melancholy turn which was often given to the public mind, it has become requisite, in later writings, to introduce subjects of deeper interest, and more fitted to affect the imagination in moments of strong popular feeling, and of great national danger. Many of the reflections, therefore, which such circumstances suggested, have been introduced into the tragedies which have been composed during the very eventful period which has elapsed since the commencement of the revolution; and the authors have adapted, in a considerable degree, the interest, or the management of their plays, to those peculiar sentiments which the character of that period had given to the people. These sentiments may not always indicate very sound principle, or very elevated feeling, but, in the turn which has sometimes been given to the French plays, they are made to favour the introduction of much poetical beauty, and much dramatic interest. We have already mentioned, that there appears to be a vague, but general impression of the influence of fatality upon human conduct, floating in the public mind; and though such a notion, probably, is seldom admitted in the shape of a distinct doctrine, many circumstances indicate, that among the body of the people, and among the army in particular, the influence of this superstition is very considerable. It is appealed to in many of those political writings which best indicate the feelings of those to whom they are addressed; and we have all remarked how much and how artfully their late ruler availed himself of this belief, to connect the ascendancy of his arms, and the prosperity of his dynasty, with the destiny of human affairs. On several very important occasions, the utmost possible interest has been given to the history of particular characters, in many recent tragedies, by employing this powerful feeling in the public mind; and it was very apparent, that the spectators took peculiar interest in the denouement of the plays in which this subject was introduced.

In the works of Ducis, of Raynouard, and of several other recent writers, and in many of the plays formed from tragedies of the German school, very strong indications are to be found of the effect of the circumstances in which the people have been placed, in giving, in some respects, a new tone to dramatic compositions, and in calling forth productions of deeper interest, and capable of exciting more profound emotion, than could generally be produced by the works of the earlier periods of French literature.

It is an animating proof of the ascendancy of virtuous feeling, and a striking illustration of the tendency of great assemblies of men, when not actuated by particular passions, to join in what is generous and elevated in human thought, that not only have the tragedies of the earlier writers continued to be universally admired, and constantly acted during the whole period of the revolution, but that the standard of sentiment has not been lowered in those productions which have been designed expressly for the French stage during that period, and that the dignity of ancient virtue, and the elevation of natural feeling, still ennoble the tone of French tragedy.

The French comedies and comic acting are not less characteristic of the people than their tragedies. They are a gay and lively, but not a humorous people. A Frenchman enters into amusements with an eagerness and relish, of which, in this country, we have no conception; all his cares and sorrows are forgotten; all his serious occupations are postponed; all his unruly passions are calmed;—he thinks neither of his individual misfortunes, nor of his national degradation; neither of the friends whom he has lost in the war, nor of the foreign soldiers whom it has placed at his elbow; his whole soul is absorbed in the game, in the dance, or in the spectacle. But his object is not laughter, or passive enjoyment, or relaxation; it is the excitation of his spirits, the occupation, and interest, and agitation of his mind, the varied gratification of his senses, the exercise of his fancy, the display of his wit, and taste, and politeness.

The exhibitions at the theatres are accommodated to this taste. With the exception of some of Moliere's works, such as the Bourgeois Gentilhomme, and M. de Pourceaugnac, (which are seldom acted, at least at the Theatre Français), there are hardly any French comedies which are characterised by what we call humour,—which have for their main object the representation of palpably ludicrous peculiarities of character and manner. You never hear, in a French theatre, the same loud uncontrollable bursts of laughter, which are so often excited by representations of this kind in London. There are no such actors, at the principal theatres, as Matthews, or Liston, or Bannister, or Munden, or Emery, whose principal merit lies in mimicry and buffoonery. There are hardly any entertainments corresponding in character to our farces; the after-pieces are short comedies, and characters in low life are introduced into them, not as objects of derision, but of interest and sympathy.

On the other hand, operas and genteel comedies, which are esteemed only by the higher ranks in England, are a favourite amusement of all ranks in France. The qualities which are most highly prized in the comedies, are, interest and variety of incident and situation, wit and liveliness of dialogue, and a certain elevation and elegance of character.

Regarding the character of the French tragedies, there will always be much difference of opinion; and many, probably, of those who have had the best opportunities of studying them, as performed upon the stage at Paris, may yet retain nearly the same judgment concerning them which they formed in reading them in the closet. And we are willing to admit, that admirable as they appear to us in many respects, they are not well adapted to become popular in this country. But the excellencies and unrivalled elegance of the French comedy, have been at all times universally admitted, while there is this great distinction between them and the tragedies of the French school, that however great the pleasure we may take in reading them, no one ever saw them well performed, without acknowledging, that until then, he had no conception of the astonishing field which they afford for the display of the actor's power, or of the innumerable charms which they possess as dramatic compositions.

Everything that ever was amiable and engaging in the character of the French people; the elegance and bon-hommie of their manners, which served as a passport to the French in every country in Europe, and softened the feelings of national resentment with which their ambition and their arrogance to other nations had taught many to regard them as a people; their well-known superiority to other nations in those circumstances, which render them agreeable and pleasant in society, in their constant attention and accommodation to the wishes and pursuits of others, in that anxiety to please, to entertain, and to promote the interests and happiness of others, which costs so little to those who are never subject to that unhappy irregularity of temper and spirit, so visible to all foreigners in the character of the English people, and which never fails to secure esteem, and to interest the affections, while superior worth, less happily gifted for the common purposes and intercourse of life, may be regarded with no warmer feeling than that of distant respect; the loyauté and frankness once so closely associated with the history and character of the French people; the manliness which taught them at once to admit and to repair the wrongs which their impetuosity of spirit, or their harshness of feeling, might have occasioned, and the gallantry with which they were wont to defend with their sword what their honour bound them to maintain; and above all, that delightful and touching abandon of feeling, which seemed the result of genuine simplicity, and which appeared to know no reserve, only because it knew no guilt; all these beautiful and interesting traits, which adorned the character of former and of later days, are still preserved in the comedies of their greater writers; the purity of former character seems to animate the pages which they write, and the spirit of earlier times seems yet to retain its ascendancy, when they wish to pourtray the manners of the present day.