ent. These were continued in Italy
from the time of Augustus, long after the emperours. It was a publick
mischief, which contributed, in some measure, to the decay and ruin of
the Roman empire. To have a due detestation of those licentious
entertainments, there is no need of any recourse to the fathers; the
wiser pagans tell us, very plainly, what they thought of them. I have
made this mention of the mimi and pantomimes, only to show how the most
noble of publick spectacles were corrupted and abused, and to conduct
the reader to the end through every road, and through all the by-paths
of human wit, from Homer and Eschylus to our own time.

7. WANDERINGS OF THE HUMAN MIND IN THE BIRTH, AND PROGRESS OF THEATRICAL
REPRESENTATIONS.

That we may conclude this work by applying the principles laid down at
the beginning, and extended through the whole, I desire the reader to
recur to that point, where I have represented the human mind as
beginning the course of the drama. The chorus was first a hymn to
Bacchus, produced by accident; art brought it to perfection, and delight
made it a publick diversion. Thespis made a single actor play before the
people; this was the beginning of theatrical shows. Eschylus, taking the
idea of the Iliad and Odyssey, animates, if I may so express it, the
epick poem, and gives a dialogue in place of simple recitation; puts the
whole into action, and sets it before the eyes, as if it was a present
and real transaction; he gives the chorus[4] an interest in the scenes;
contrives habits of dignity and theatrical decorations: in a word, he
gives both to Tragedy; or, more properly, draws it from the bosom of the
epick poem. She made her appearance, sparkling with graces, and
displayed such majesty, as gained every heart at the first view.
Sophocles considers her more nearly, with the eyes of a critick, and
finds that she has something still about her rough and swelling; he
divests her of her false ornaments; teaches her a more regular walk, and
more familiar dignity. Euripides was of opinion, that she ought to
receive still more softness and tenderness; he teaches her the new art
of pleasing by simplicity, and gives her the charms of graceful
negligence; so that he makes her stand in suspense, whether she appears
most to advantage in the dress of Sophocles, sparkling with gems, or in
that of Euripides, which is more simple and modest. Both, indeed, are
elegant; but the elegance is of different kinds, b