ck a hue that no shades of
character can be distinguished. But ideal comedy, if it may be so
termed, that which depends upon the imagination, and may agree with all
times and all countries, owes its invention to Italy. Harlequin,
punchinello, pantaloon, &c., have the same character in every different
piece. In all cases they exhibit masks, and not faces: that is to say,
their physiognomy is that of some particular species of character, and
not that of any individual. Undoubtedly, the modern authors of
harlequinades, finding every part ready carved out for them like the men
of a chess-board, have not the merit of inventing them; but their first
invention is due to Italy; therefore these fantastic personages, which
from one end of Europe to the other afford amusement to every child, and
to every grown-up person whom imagination has made childlike, must
certainly be considered as the creation of Italians: this I should
conceive ought to give them some claim to the art of comedy.

The observation of the human heart is an inexhaustible source of
literature; but nations more disposed to poetry than to reflection, more
easily surrender themselves to the intoxication of joy than to
philosophic irony. That pleasantry which is founded upon the knowledge
of mankind has something sad at bottom. It is only the gaiety of the
imagination which is truly inoffensive. It is not that the Italians do
not study deeply the men whom they have to do with; for none discover
more subtly their secret thoughts; but they employ this talent as a
guide of conduct, and have no idea of converting it to any literary
purpose. Perhaps even they have no wish to generalise their discoveries,
and publish their perceptions. There is a prudent dissimulation in their
character, which teaches them not to expose in comedies that which
affords rules for private intercourse; not to reveal by the fictions of
the mind what may be useful in circumstances of real life.

Macchiavelli however, far from concealing anything, has exposed all the
secrets of a criminal polity; and through him we may learn of what a
terrible knowledge of the human heart the Italians are capable. But
profound observation is not the province of comedy: the leisure of
society, properly speaking, can alone furnish matter for the comic
scene. Goldoni, who lived at Venice, where there is more society than in
any other Italian city, has introduced more refinement of observation
into his pieces than