\Sil 



Herder on Shakespeare. 



413 



out any element of amotion — without 

 having or aftainiivg llic same end — 

 consequputly, quif*? auother thiug;. 



Hitherto we lune iiu irly spoken of 

 the dirterenco. whirh I tiiink has hee.u 

 j)ut out of (ioiiht by wlmt has Isecu said, 

 witiiout df^ciding any f iiin^ couf-cruiiig 

 (he preference. And now I cull upon 

 every one to dreide within liimself — 

 v.'liellier a eopyina; of foreign nianr.cis, 

 times, and actions in haif-trntli, with 

 the iinpoi'taiit aim of making itcapabh; 

 of an amI)i)Tiious representation upon 

 ii boarded scafiohl, can he esteemed 

 oijnal or superior to a representation, 

 which, in a certain point of light, was 

 the exactest national nature: wiicther 

 a kind of poetry, whose tr/iole has no 

 aim at all (and out of this difficulty a 

 Frenchman will not slipso easily, I fear, 

 the best philosojihers agreeing that in- 

 struction can be gleaned but piece-meal 

 in it) can be valued erjual to a national 

 instit ut ion in whose snial lest part, effect, 

 deep profound impression lay? Lastly, 

 whether a time niii'^t not come (as most 

 of (Jorneille's arliticial pieces are al- 

 ready forgotten) in which \'oltaireand 

 Crebillon will be looked upon with 

 that kind of a:lmiration with which 

 we read D'Urfe's Aslraa, and all the 

 Clelias and Aspasias of tlie times of 

 chivalry. " Full of I.cal-piece and 

 Avisdom, invention and labour ! IMuch 

 could be learnt out of them, a pity it 

 is in Astraea and Clelia!"' All t'.ieir 

 art is without nature, is romantic, or 

 over delicate. How fortunate woulil it 

 he if those limes v.ere come wlien 

 (ruth, and truth alone shall he relisb.ed ! 

 The wliole French drama would be 

 changed into a collection of fine versos, 

 sentenc's, sentiments — but the great 

 Sophocles still remain as he is. 



Jx;t them suppose tiiat a given peo- 

 ple, from circun)slances we shall not 

 examine into, had a mind, instead of 

 aping and running off wifi! the walnut- 

 shell, to invent their own drama, and 

 the first question, i!i(>(iiinks, v.-iil be: 

 when ? where? under wli.it ('ircuni- 

 stances ? out of what shall they do 

 this? and it wants no demonstration 

 that t!ie invention can and will be no- 

 thing els<! thai) 111'.; answer to these 

 nue^tions. If they do not borrow their 

 drama from dyfhyrand)ic chorus, it 

 can hare nothing of tiie chorus of tiie 

 dytbyrambic in it. If no such sim- 

 plicity of historical or traditiomil facts, 

 of domestic, political or religious rela- 

 tions, lies before them, it can have no- 

 thing of all that. TheywKiild invent, if 

 ,MnNTHi.v Mag. No. 3.74. 



Itossiblc, their diam.i according to their 

 own lustory, to the spirit of the age, to 

 (heir own manners, opinions, language, 

 national prejudices, traditions and fa- 

 vourite amusements, (even if tiiey were 

 puppet or me7!y-aiu!rr\A-showsj. just 

 as the uobl(! (ireeks did from their 

 Chorus, and the invention will be 

 drama, if it produce amoiiff this people 

 a dramatic eftl'ct. It is visible we are 

 now got to the fofo divisos nl) itrhe Bri- 

 tannuo.i. and their great IShakespeare. 



^a piilliili/x Aristnlallse-An deny that 

 at and before that time Britain was no 

 Greece; and consequently requiring, 

 that a (ireek drama (we are not talking 

 of soulless imitations) should naturally 

 fake rise there, is refjc.iring an ewe to 

 bring forth lions. TIk; first and last 

 questiims must be: " Vi'hat is the 

 ground? — what is it fit for? — what is 

 sown in it? — wJiat can it produce?" 

 And, heavens ! how far removed from 

 (ireeceweare now ! History, tradition, 

 manners, religion, genius of the times, 

 of the language of tli(! people, their sen- 

 sibility, how far removed from those of 

 (ireece ! The reader may be much or 

 little acquainted with both periods ; he 

 Avill not confound for a single moment 

 tilings without likeness. And if jn 

 this period, altered for the better or for 

 the worse, a genius arose, who derived 

 out of its nmlerials a dramatical crea- 

 tion just as naturally and originally as 

 the Greeks derived their drama from 

 tlie materials their period furnished ; 

 and if this creation, though by very dif- 

 ferent roads, atla'ns the same end, or an 

 end in itself much more variously sim- 

 ple and more simply various — and is, 

 (strictly metaphysically defined) acom- 

 ))lete whole; who wotild be foolish 

 eiiougli, on comparison, to condemn this 

 second, because it is not the first? — 

 Since its very essence,virtue. perfection, 

 consists in its not being the first ; iu 

 this other peculiar, plants growing as 

 natiirally out of this new ground, and 

 new period. 



S!iake-;peare found before and around 

 iiim something very diti'erent from that 

 simplicity of toiie, manners, actions, 

 iuf^linations, and historical traditions, 

 which formed the (j reek drama: and 

 sLuce, according t^» (he first metaphysi- 

 cal axiom, notliing can spring out of 

 nothing, not only no (ireek d)-ama, but 

 no drama at all, could have t.iken rise, 

 if those philosophers, who acknowledge 

 no other, are in the right. But as ge- 

 nius is well-known to be more than 

 philosophy, and creating more than 

 3 F analysing 



