deed, knew his own
genius sooner, and was not less happy in procuring applause, though it
often happened to him as to Corneille,

"L'ignorance et l'erreur a ses naissantes pieces,
En habit de marquis, en robes de comtesses,
Vinssent pour diffamer son chef-d'oeuvre nouveau,
Et secouer la tele a l'endroit le plus beau."

But, without taking any farther notice of the time at which either came
to the knowledge of his own genius, let us suppose that the powers of
tragedy and comedy were as equally shared between Moliere and Corneille,
as they are different in their own nature, and then nothing more will
remain, than to compare the several difficulties of each composition,
and to rate those difficulties together which are common to both.

It appears, first, that the tragick poet has, in his subject, an
advantage over the comick, for he takes it from history; and his rival,
at least in the more elevated and splendid comedy, is obliged to form it
by his own invention. Now, it is not so easy, as it might seem, to find
comick subjects capable of a new and pleasing form; but history is a
source, if not inexhaustible, yet certainly so copious as never to leave
the genius aground. It is true, that invention seems to have a wider
field than history: real facts are limited in their number, but the
facts which may be feigned have no end; but though, in this respect,
invention may be allowed to have the advantage, is the difficulty of
inventing to be accounted as nothing? To make a tragedy, is to get
materials together, and to make use of them like a skilful architect;
but to make a comedy, is to build like Aesop in the air. It is in vain
to boast that the compass of invention is as wide as the extent of
desire; every thing is limited, and the mind of man like every thing
else. Besides, invention must be in conformity to nature; but distinct
and remarkable characters are very rare in nature herself. Moliere has
got hold on the principal touches of ridicule. If any man should bring
characters less strong, he will be in danger of dulness. Where comedy is
to be kept up by subordinate personages, it is in great danger. All the
force of a picture must arise from the principal persons, and not from
the multitude clustered up together. In the same manner, a comedy, to be
good, must be supported by a single striking character, and not by
under-parts.

But, on the contrary, tragick characters are without number, though of
them the g