Lullis, the Le Bruns, all contain fomething new and original, which has preferved them from finking into oblivion. In fhort, every species is good that is amufing.

Therefore, if fuch a piece of mufic does not fucceed, if fuch a picture does not ́please, if fuch a play is ill received, we must never attribute it to its being of a new kind, but to its being worth nothing in its kind.

PRE

PR E F A CСЕ

To the Comedy of NANINE.

ΤΗ

HIS trifle was acted in July 1748. was not intended for the theatre of Paris, and fill lefs for the prefs; nor would it now be fent into the world, had not a spurious and imperfect edition been. published, under the name of the company of book fellers of Paris. There are above an hundred verses in that edition, which were not wrote by monfieur de Voltaire. We must take this opportunity to caution lovers of literature from giving credit to any of thofe editions, which have not been published under the author's eye, and by his directions. They must give ftill lefs credit to the multitude of fugitive pieces. that come out under his name, or to those verses that are inferted in the collections and magazines of the times, which are the ridiculous confequence of a trifling, vain

and

and dangerous reputation. Until a proper and correct edition of all his works could be prepared, it was thought neceffary to give into the hands of a creditable bookfeller, the tragedy of Semiramis, to gether with the comedy of Nanine; and they both appeared last winter among the number of new theatrical performances which come out every year in Paris.

Among the very many pamphlets that are constantly published in that great city, there was one of fufficient merit to diftinguish it from the reft. It is an ingenious and well wrote differtation of an academician of La Rochelle, on a queftion which feems to have divided the lovers of literature I mean, whether comedies of a tender, 'ferious turn, can be reconciled to true tafte; or, whether they should be entirely

* There are few towns of note in France, Italy, or Germany, in which there are not academies, or literary focieties of different denominations. They ferve as honorary recompences to those who apply. to the belles-letters; many of the learned abroad are of half a dozen fuch focieties. Monfieur de Voltaire mentions in fome part of his works, that he had the honour of belonging to eighteen academies.

exploded

exploded by the rules of criticifm. This gentleman is of opinion they should; and condemns with a great deal of reason any thing that looks like familiar tragedy. Subjects of that kind really debafe the bufkin. The true aim both of tragedy and comedy would be totally forgot; and fuch a performance would be, rather, a mongrel fpecies, the monstrous offspring of an inability to compofe either true tragedy or comedy.

This judicious academician blames, with great good fenfe, all romantic and improbable intrigues in thofe comedies, where it is attempted to raise the pity and affecting concern of the fpectators; and which, through derifion, have been called whining comedies. But I must beg leave to ask this gentleman, whether fuch romantic, improbable intrigues ought to gain admiffion into any fpecies of dramatic writing? Are they not always effential faults, and therefore to be avoided every where with care? He concludes, by faying, that if comedy can any way be allowed the attempt of melting the fpectators into tears:

at

at leaft nothing but the paffion of love fhould force them from our eyes.

He

certainly does not mean that paffion, as it is drawn in fome of our good tragedies, that fatal love which is attended with rage, with cruelty and barbarism, and followed by crimes and by remorfe. He means that tender, fimple, foothing paffion which properly belongs to comedy.

This reflection leads me to another, which I fubmit to the decifion of the learned. Methinks, in France, tragedy begins to appropriate to itself the language of comedy. If we take notice, we shall find, that in many of the former kind of writing, where terror and pity should be worked to the highest pitch of distress, love is really treated in the ftile of comedy. Gallantry, declarations of love, coquetry, and familiarity, are, but too often, to be met with in the greek and roman heroes and heroines, that are reprefented on our theatres. So that, in fact, the tender genuine love we meet with in comedy is not an encroachment on the province of Melpomene; but on the con

trary,