an unhappy
Catastrophe in Tragedy, it does not say, that ill men may go off
unpunished. The reason for this distinction is very plain; namely,
because the best of men [as is said above] have faults enough to justify
Providence for any misfortunes and afflictions which may befal them; but
there are many men so criminal, that they can have no claim or pretence
to happiness. The _best_ of men may deserve punishment; but the _worst_
of men cannot deserve happiness."

Mr. Addison, as we have seen above, tells us, that Aristotle, in
considering the Tragedies that were written in either of the kinds,
observes, that those which ended unhappily had always pleased the
people, and carried away the prize, in the public disputes of the Stage,
from those that ended happily. And we shall take leave to add, that this
preference was given at a time when the entertainments of the Stage were
committed to the care of the magistrates; when the prizes contended for
were given by the State; when, of consequence, the emulation among
writers was ardent; and when learning was at the highest pitch of glory
in that renowned commonwealth.

It cannot be supposed, that the Athenians, in this their highest age of
taste and politeness, were less humane, less tender-hearted, than we of
the present. But they were not _afraid_ of being moved, nor _ashamed_ of
shewing themselves to be so, at the distresses they saw well painted and
represented. In short, they were of the opinion, with the wisest of men,
_That it was better to go to the house of mourning than to the house of
mirth_; and had fortitude enough to trust themselves with their own
generous grief, because they found their hearts mended by it.

Thus also Horace, and the politest Romans in the Augustan age, wished to
be affected:

_Ac ne forte putes me, quae facere ipse recusem,
Cum recte tractant alii, laudare maligne;
Ille per extentum funem mihi posse videtur
Ire poeta, meum qui pectus inaniter angit,
Irritat, mulcet; falsis terroribus implet,
Ut magus; & modo me Thebis, modo ponit Athenis_.

Thus Englished by Mr. Pope:

Yet, lest you think I railly more than teach,
Or praise malignly _Arts_ I cannot reach,
Let me, for once, presume t'instruct the times
To know the _Poet_ from the _Man of Rhymes_.
'Tis He who gives my breast a thousand pains,
Can make me _feel_ each passion that he feigns;
Enrage--compose--with more than magic art,
With _pity_ and with _terr