ction was aftewards chang'd; and of it self was accompany'd with remarkable Defects. The chief Fault of it was, its being founded on a falfe and pernicious Scheme of Religion: in which the Greeks, and all the antient Sages of the Heathen World were strangely deceiv'd; being plung'd into grofs Idolatry. But notwithftanding this fundamental Miftake, they chose a very proper way of infpiring Men with Religion and Virtue: their Method was wife, agreeable, and apt to make a lively, lafting Impreffion.

C. You faid that this firft Inftitution was afterwards chang'd: Pray, how did it happen?

A. Tho' Virtue gives Men the true Politeness; if great Care be not taken, Politeness gradually degenerates into an unmanly Softness. The Afiatick Greeks fell firft into this Corruption. The Ionians grew effeminate; and all that Coast of Afia was a Theatre of Luxury. The Cretans too became corrupted, notwithstanding the wife Laws of MINOS. You know the Verse that St. PAUL quotes from one of their own Poets. Corinth was remarkable for its exceffive Riot, and Diffoluteness. The Romans, as yet unpolish't,

began

* Κρῆτες αεὶ ψεται, κατὰ Θηρία, γαςέρες αργαι.

TIT. I. 12.

began to fall into fuch Practices as quite relax't their ruftick Virtue. Athens was not free from the general Contagion, with which Greece was all-over infected. Pleafure which was us'd at firft as the means to convey Wisdom into People's Minds, ufurp❜t the Place of Wisdom itself: and in vain did the Philofophers remonftrate against this Disorder. SOCRATE s arofe, and fhew'd his deluded Fellow-Citizens that the Pleasure about which they were entirely employ'd, ought only to be us'd as the Vehicle of Wisdom, and an Incentive to Virtue. PLATO, his Disciple, (who was not afham'd to compofe his Dialogues on the Plan and Subject of his Mafter's Difcourfes,) banish't from his Republick all fuch mufical Notes, Scenes of Tragedy, and poetical Compofitions, (even fuch Parts of HOMER himself,) as did not incline People to love Order, and wife Laws. This, Sir, was the Judgment of SOCRATES and PLATO concerning Poets and Muficians: do you approve of it?

B. I'm entirely of their Mind; and wou'd allow of nothing that is useless. Since we may find Pleafure enough in folid and valuable things, we ought not to feek for it elsewhere. In order to recommend Virtue to Men's Efteem and Practice, we must show them that it is con

fiftent

fiftent with Pleafure: and on the contrary, if we feparate Pleasure from Virtue, People will be ftrongly tempted to forsake a virtuous Course. Besides, that which gives Pleasure only, without Inftruction, can at best but amuse and soften the Mind. Don't you fee, Sir, how much a Philofopher I'm become, by hearing you? But let us go on to the End: for we are not yet perfectly agreed.

A. I hope we shall be very quickly. And fince you are grown fo much a Philofopher, give me leave to ask you one Question more. We have oblig'd Muficians, and Poets, to employ their Art only for promoting Virtue: and the Subjects of your new Republick are debarr'd from all fuch Spectacles as can only please, and not instruct them. But what wou'd you do with Conjurers?

B. They are Impoftors that ought to be banish't from all Societies.

A. They do no harm. You cannot think they are Sorcerers: fo that you have no Reason to be afraid of their practising any diabolical Art.

B. No, I don't fear that: nor fhou'd I give the leaft Credit to any of their fenflefs Stories. But they do harm enough by amufing the common People. I will not fuffer fuch idle Perfons in my Commonwealth, as divert others from their Bufi

nefs,

nefs, and have no other Employment but to amuse People with foolish Talk.

A. But perhaps they get a Livelihood that Way; and lay up Wealth for themfelves, and their Families.

B. No matter they muft find out fome honest Way of living. It is not enough that they feek a Livelihood; they muft gain it by fome Employment that is ufeful to the Publick. I fay the fame of all those strolling Vagabonds who amuse Crowds with filly Prattle and foolish Songs. For tho' they should never lie, nor fay any thing that is immodeft; their being useless to the Publick is Guilt enough. So that they ought either to be excluded from the Society, or compell'd to follow fome ufeful Occupation.

A. Wou'd you not at least tolerate Tragedians, provided they reprefent no Scenes of Immodefty, or extravagant Love? I don't ask you this Question as a Christian: Answer only as a Law-giver, and a Philofopher.

B. If Tragedies did not conduce to Inftruction as well as to Pleasure, I fhou'd condemn them.

A. Right. In that you are exactly of PLATO's Opinion: For he wou'd not allow of any Poems or Tragedies in his Republick, that fhou'd not first be examin'd by the Guardians of the Laws: that

fo

P

fo thePeople might neither hear nor fee any thing but what should tend to ftrengthen the Laws, and promote Virtue. In this you likewife fall in with the Sentiments of other antient Authors, who judg'd that Tragedy ought to turn chiefly upon two Paffions; either the Terror that arifes from a View of the fatal Effects of Vice; or that Compaffion which accompanies the Representation of an oppreft and fteddy Virtue. SOPHOCLES and EURIPIDES wrote with thefe Views, and always endeavour'd to excite either Pity, or Terror.

B. I remember I have met with this laft Rule in Mr. BOILEAU's Art of Poetry.

A. You are right. He's a Man that knows perfectly well not only the Foundation of Poetry; but likewife the folid Aim to which Philofophy (fuperiour to all Arts) ought to direct the Poet.

B. But whither are you leading me all this while?

A. I lead you no farther: you guide yourself now; and are happily come to the Conclufion I firft propos'd. Have you not faid, that in your Republick, you would not suffer idle People who amuse others, and have no other Business but merely to talk? Is it not upon this Principle that you would exclude all fuch

Tragedies