DRAMA, a poem, in which the action is represented.
To the Greeks we owe the invention of both forms of dramatic composition, tra gedy and comedy. These exhibitions were extremely simple. The action was con ..
tinned from beginning to end without Amuses or intervals ; there was no change of scene : and the attention of the specta tors was continually occupied either by the actors or the chorus. It was neces sary, therefore, in order to give probabi lity to the fiction, that the rule of the three unities should be strictly observed. The poem was confined, and the same ac tion, out of which arose the incidents re quisite to support it to its conclusion, and all tending to one great point. No epi sodes were admissible, but such as were so connected with the main story, as not to be suppressed or transposed without altering or destroying the plot. The unity of place, on a stage which admitted of no change of scene, must, of course, be rigorously attended to, and the fable so constructed as to draw all the characters to the same spot. This, notwithstanding the inconveniences which arose front it, was an indispensable rule, as any viola tion of it would completely destroy the illusion. The time, strictly speaking, was that of the representation. It might com prehend twenty-four hours, but by no means could it extend beyond that time. The precept of Aristotle even goes to de scribe the length of the poem ; it could not exceed thirteen or fourteen hundred verses.
A drama composed on these principles could afford but little variety of incident and character; it must depend for its success on the poetical talent of its au. thor, and on the interest he could there by excite in the breasts of his audience for the characters he introduced.
The modern stage gives wider scope to the imagination, and renders the strict observance of the unities less necessary. The introduction of pauses by the division of acts justifies a change of scene, and also allows a longer extension of time,. without any violation of probability. Thus, a greater range of subjects for dramatic representation is provided, while at the same time, as the obstructions of art are removed, the mirror, if we may so ex press it, becomes more true to nature. The poet may so construct his drama, as to lead the imagination of his audience along with him, and thus may pass in re view the striking events of history ; while, by the aid of scenic illusion, the transition from place to place becomes as consistent with probability as the transition from one period of time to another.
Yet there are, who insist on the appli cation of the Grecian rules to the modern drama. The French, in particular, ob. serve them strictly. Their best pieces are composed on the ancient model ; the scene never changes, and the action con tinues and ends on the same spot where it is supposed to begin. The time, like wise, seldom exceeds that prescribed by the Greek critic, and is often confined to that of the representation. Hence the na tional taste is so decidedly formed, that the best production of the English school would only afford them matter of ridi cule, for its obvious violation of the limit established laws of criticism.
The unity of action is certainly essen tial to that probability which supports the theatrical illusion. Yet even the ob servance of this rule is not incompatible with variation of scene, and extension of time, though it requires a masterly ge nius to them judiciously. In the works of our immortal Shakspeare we often see this talent exemplified. We be hold in his Macbeth the transition from the hero to the villain, and view the aw ful retribution, though long withheld, yet finally overwhelm the guilty. Yet who thinks of objecting to so grand a play, because the scene shifts from Inverness to the English court and back again, or be cause a period of seventeen years elapses from the murder of Duncan to the death of the usurper.
Hence the rules ought to be subservi ent to the great end of dramatic repre sentation, the instruction of mankind by impressive and striking lessons, and we may conclude, with our great critic, that " the unities of time and place are not essential to a just drama ; and that, though they may sometimes conduce to pleasure, they are always to be sacrificed to the no bler beauties of variety and instruction ; that a play written with nice observation of critical rules is to be contemplated as an elaborate curiosity, as the product of superfluous and ostentatious art, by which is shown rather what is possible than what is necessary."