"David Hume - Of Tragedy" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hume David)

naturally, and when excited by the simple appearance of a real
object, it may be painful; yet is so smoothed, and softened,
and mollified, when raised by the finer arts, that it affords
the highest entertainment.

To confirm this reasoning, we may observe, that if the
movements of the imagination be not predominant above those of
the passion, a contrary effect follows; and the former, being
now subordinate, is converted into the latter, and still
farther encreases the pain and affliction of the sufferer.

Who could ever think of it as a good expedient for comforting
an afflicted parent, to exaggerate, with all the force of
elocution, the irreparable loss, which he has met with by the
death of a favourite child ? The more power of imagination and
expression you here employ, the more you encrease his despair
and affliction.

The shame, confusion, and terror of Verres, no doubt, rose in
proportion to the noble eloquence and vehemence of Cicero: So
also did his pain and uneasiness. These former passions were
too strong for the pleasure arising from the beauties of
elocution; and operated, though from the same principle, yet
in a contrary manner, to the sympathy, compassion, and
indignation of the audience.

Lord Clarendon, when he approaches towards the catastrophe of
the royal party, supposes, that his narration must then become
infinite]y disagreeable; and he hurries over the king's death,
without giving us one circumstance of it. He considers it as
too horrid a scene to be contemplated with any satisfaction,
or even without the utmost pain and aversion. He himself, as
well as the readers of that age, were too deeply concerned in
the events, and felt a pain from subjects, which an historian
and a reader of another age would regard as the most pathetic
and most interesting, and, by consequence, the most agreeable.

An action, represented in tragedy, may be too bloody and
atrocious. It may excite such movements of horror as will not
soften into pleasure; and the greatest energy of expression,
bestowed on descriptions of that nature, serves only to
augment our uneasiness. Such is that action represented in the
Ambitious Stepmother, where a venerable old man, raised to the
height of fury and despair, rushes against a pillar, and
striking his head upon it, besmears it all over with mingled
brains and gore. The English theatre abounds too much with
such shocking images.

Even the common sentiments of compassion require to be
softened by some agreeable affection, in order to give a