of those purposes; to move
is to strike those strings of the heart which are most natural, terrour
and pity; to divert is to make one laugh, a thing which, indeed, is
natural enough, but more delicate. The gentleman and the rustick have
both sensibility and tenderness of heart, perhaps, in greater or less
degree; but as they are men alike, the heart is moved by the same
touches. They both love, likewise, to send their thoughts abroad, and to
expand themselves in merriment; but the springs which must be touched
for this purpose are not the same in the gentleman as in the rustick.
The passions depend on nature, and merriment upon education. The clown
will laugh at a waggery, and the gentleman only at a stroke of delicate
conceit. The spectators of a tragedy, if they have but a little
knowledge, are almost all on a level; but with respect to comedy we have
three classes, if not more, the people, the learned, and the court. If
there are certain cases in which all may be comprehended in the term
people, this is not one of those cases. Whatever father Rapin may say
about it, we are more willing even to admire than to laugh. Every man,
that has any power of distinction, laughs as rarely as the philosopher
admires; for we are not to reckon those fits of laughter which are not
incited by nature, and which are given merely to complaisance, to
respect, flattery, and good-humour; such as break out at sayings which
pretend to smartness in assemblies. The laughter of the theatre is of
another stamp. Every reader and spectator judges of wit by his own
standard, and measures it by his capacity, or by his condition: the
different capacities and conditions of men make them diverted on very
different occasions. If, therefore, we consider the end of the tragick
and comick poet, the comedian must be involved in much more
difficulties, without taking in the obstructions to be encountered
equally by both, in an art which consists in raising the passions, or
the mirth of a great multitude. The tragedian has little to do but to
reflect upon his own thought, and draw from his heart those sentiments
which will certainly make their way to the hearts of others, if he found
them in his own. The other must take many forms, and change himself
almost into as many persons, as he undertakes to satisfy and divert.

It may be said, that, if genius be supposed equal, and success supposed
to depend upon genius, the business will be equally easy and difficult