this great foundation is, which he says is nothing, as it is generally stated. I never heard of any other foundation of Dramatick Poesy than the imitation of nature; neither was there ever pretended any other by the ancients, or moderns, or me, who endeavour to follow them in that rule. This I have plainly said in my definition of a play; that it is a just and lively image of human nature, &c. Thus the foundation, as it is generally stated, will stand sure, if this definition of a play be true; if it be not, he ought to have made his exception against it, by proving that a play is not an imitation of nature, but somewhat else which he is pleased to think it.

But it is very plain, that he has mistaken the foundation for that which is built upon it, though not immediately. For the direct and immediate consequence is this; if nature be to be imitated, then there is a rule for imitating nature rightly; otherwise there may be an end, and no means conducing to it. Hitherto I have proceeded by demonstration; but as our divines,-when they have proved a Deity, because there is order, and have inferred that this Deity ought to be worshipped,-differ afterwards in the manner of the worship; so, having laid down-that nature is to be imitated, and that proposition proving the next, --that then there are means which conduce to the imitating of nature, I dare proceed no farther positively; but have only laid down some opinions of the ancients and moderns, and of my own, as

means which they used, and which I thought probable for the attaining of that end. Those means are the same which my antagonist calls the foundations, how properly, the world may judge; and to prove that this is his meaning, he clears it immediately to you, by enumerating those rules or propositions against which he makes his particular exceptions, as namely, those of time, and place, in these words: First, we are told the plot should not be so ridiculously contrived, as to crowd two several countries into one stage; secondly, to cramp the accidents of many years or days into the representation of two hours and an half; and lastly, a conclusion drawn, that the only remaining dispute is, concerning time, whether it should be contained in twelve or twenty-four hours; and the place to be limited to that spot of ground where the play is supposed to begin: and this is called nearest nature; for that is concluded most natural, which is most probable, and nearest to that which it presents.

Thus he has only made a small mistake—of the means conducing to the end, for the end itself; and of the superstructure for the foundation. But he proceeds: To shew, therefore, upon what ill grounds they dictate laws for Dramatick Poesy, &c. He is here pleased to charge me with being magisterial, as he has done in many other places of his Preface. Therefore in vindication of myself, I must crave leave to say, that my whole discourse was sceptical, according to that way of reasoning which was used by Socrates, Plato, and all the

Academicks of old, which Tully and the best of the ancients followed, and which is imitated by the modest inquisitions of the Royal Society. That it is so, not only the name will shew, which is, An Essay, but the frame and composition of the work. You see, it is a dialogue sustained by persons of several opinions, all of them left doubtful, to be determined by the readers in general; and more particularly deferred to the accurate judgment of my lord Buckhurst, to whom I made a dedication of my book. These are my words in my Epistle, speaking of the persons whom I introduced in my dialogue: "It is true, they differed in their "opinions, as it is probable they would; neither "do I take upon me to reconcile, but to relate "them, leaving your lordship to decide it in favour "of that part which you shall judge most reason"able." And after that, in my Advertisement to the Reader, I said this: "The drift of the ensuing "discourse is chiefly to vindicate the honour of 66 our English writers from the censure of those "who unjustly prefer the French before them. "This I intimate, lest any should think me so "exceeding vain, as to teach others an art which "they understand much better than myself." But this is more than necessary to clear my modesty in that point; and I am very confident that there is scarce any man who has lost so much time, as to read that trifle, but will be my compurgator as to that arrogance whereof I am accused. The truth is, if I had been naturally guilty of so much

vanity as to dictate my opinions, yet I do not find that the character of a positive or self-conceited person' is of such advantage to any in this age, that I should labour to be publickly admitted of that order.

But I am not now to defend my own cause, when that of all the ancients and moderns is in question. For this gentleman, who accuses me of arrogance, has taken a course not to be taxed with the other extreme of modesty. Those propositions which are laid down in my discourse, as helps to the better imitation of nature, are not mine, (as I have said,) nor were ever pretended so to be, but derived from the authority of Aristotle and Horace, and from the rules and examples of Ben Jonson and Corneille. These are the men with whom properly he contends, and against whom he will endeavour to make it evident, that there is no such thing as what they all pretend.

His argument against the unities of place and time, is this: That it is as impossible for one stage to present two rooms or houses truly, as two countries or kingdoms; and as impossible that five hours or twenty-four hours should be two hours, as that a thousand hours or years should be less than what they are, or the greatest part of time to be comprehended

He is sup

↑ Sir Robert Howard's own character. posed to have been ridiculed under the character of Sir Positive Atall, in Shadwell's SULLEN LOVERS, represented and published in the same year in which this piece was

written.

in the less for all of them being impossible, they are none of them nearest the truth or nature of what they present; for impossibilities are all equal, and admit of no degree.

This argument is so scattered into parts, that it can scarce be united into a syllogism; yet, in obedience to him, I will abbreviate and comprehend as much of it as I can in few words, that my answer to it may be more perspicuous. I conceive his meaning to be what follows, as to the unity of place: (if I mistake, I beg his pardon, professing it is not out of any design to play the Argumentative Poet.) If one stage cannot properly present two rooms or houses, much less two countries or kingdoms, then there can be no unity of place; but one stage cannot properly perform this: therefore there can be no unity of place.

I plainly deny his minor proposition; the force of which, if I mistake not, depends on this; that the stage being one place cannot be two. This, indeed, is as great a secret, as that we are all mortal; but to require it with another, I must crave leave to tell him, that though the stage

8

66

8 There is here, I believe, a covert allusion to the character in Shadwell's play already mentioned, who in the first scene, addressing Sandford, says, "— betwixt you and I, let me tell you, we are all mortal;" in which wise remark the author probably had in view Sir Robert Howard's poem "Against the Fear of Death." See particularly the opening and concluding lines. Nichols's COLLECTION, ii. 330.