of solemn debate. This a mere rhetorician may write as well as
the greatest tragedian that ever lived. We confess that to us
the speech of Sempronius in Cato seems very nearly as good as
Shakspeare could have made it. But when the senate breaks up,
and we find that the lovers and their mistresses, the hero, the
villain, and the deputy-villain, all continue to harangue in the
same style, we perceive the difference between a man who can
write a play and a man who can write a speech. In the same
manner, wit, a talent for description, or a talent for narration,
may, for a time, pass for dramatic genius. Dryden was an
incomparable reasoner in verse. He was conscious of his power;
he was proud of it; and the authors of the Rehearsal justly
charged him with abusing it. His warriors and princesses are
fond of discussing points of amorous casuistry, such as would
have delighted a Parliament of Love. They frequently go still
deeper, and speculate on philosophical necessity and the origin
of evil.

There were, however, some occasions which absolutely required
this peculiar talent. Then Dryden was indeed at home. All his
best scenes are of this description. They are all between men;
for the heroes of Dryden, like many other gentlemen, can never
talk sense when ladies are in company. They are all intended to
exhibit the empire of reason over violent passion. We have two
interlocutors, the one eager and impassioned, the other high,
cool, and judicious. The composed and rational character
gradually acquires the ascendency. His fierce companion is first
inflamed to rage by his reproaches, then overawed by his
equanimity, convinced by his arguments, and soothed by his
persuasions. This is the case in the scene between Hector and