though it may seem to us now, is valuable in illustrating a point of view that has in it certain elements of reason: "Dr. Goldsmith has written a comedy-no, it is the lowest of all farces; it is not the subject I condemn, though very vulgar, but the execution. The drift tends to no moral, no edification of any kind-the situations, however, are well imagined and make one laugh in spite of the grossness of the dialogue, the forced witticisms, and total improbability of the whole plan and conduct. But what disgusts me most is that, though the characters are very low and aim at low humor, not one of them says a sentence that is natural or marks any character at all." This attack resolves itself into four substantial charges: that the play is "low"; that it has no higher purpose than to arouse laughter; that the motif and incidents are improbable; and finally, that the characterization is inadequate. Each and all of these are summarized in the accusation that' She Stoops to Conquer is not a comedy at all but sheer farce. Let us now weigh each clause in this sweeping indietment.

The charge that Goldsmith_is "low" means little more than that he turned to other and older standards of drama than those of the prevailing comedy of sensibility. "When I undertook to write a comedy," he declares in his preface to The Good Natured Man, “I confess I was strongly prepossessed in favor of the poets of the last age and strove to imitate them. The term, 'genteel comedy,' was then unknown among us and little more was desired by an audience than, nature and humor in whatever walks of life they are most conspicuous." In this return to fresh and natural humor his chief guide seems to have been George Farquhar. As Austin Dobson points out, he was reported by rumor to have played the part of Scrub in his wandering youth and he certainly assigned the rôle of Sir Harry Wildair to the shabby hero of The Adventures of a Strolling Player. In She Stoops to Conquer there are several reminiscences of The Beaux' Stratagem: Miss Hardcastle compares herself, in her maid's disguise, to Cherry; Marlow's desire to see the embroidery (III, 1) recalls Archer's speech to Mrs. Sullen; and in Sullen, as we shall see later, Tony Lumpkin finds a partial prototype. As the term, "low," had been fastened upon Farquhar by Pope and upon Fielding by Richardson, it seems, as applied to Goldsmith, to carry the distinction of a brevet. And yet it rankled, as his many references show. In his Present State of Polite Learning he anticipates by fifteen years Walpole's criticism: "By the power of one single monosyllable, our critics have almost got the victory over humor amongst us. Does the poet paint the absurdities of the vulgar, then he is low; does he exaggerate the features of folly, to render it more thoroughly ridiculous, he is then very low." And the seedy tavern companions at The Three Jolly Pigeons (I, 2) cry out with unconscious irony against all that is "low."

To the second charge that She Stoops to Conquer seems designed merely to excite laughter, Goldsmith himself would have promptly pleaded guilty. "That is all I require," he said to a friend who declared that "he had

laughed exceedingly on the opening night. And Johnson, too, proclaimed laughter to be the proper criterion of success in the lighter drama, when he aid of this very play, “I know of no comedy for years that has so much exhilarated an audience or answered so much the great end of comedy in making an audience merry." And there is no doubt that this laughter is perennial. Criticism may declare the first scene dramatically ineffective and regard the second-that of the alehouse-as sharply and clumsily divided into two halves; but after Tony Lumpkin's impish misdirection of the travellers has once released the flood of mirth, it sweeps through one delightful situation after another, bearing away with it on a high tide of frolic all critical doubts of reader or play-goer. Nor is this humorous satisfaction the idle and unmeaning laughter awakened by empty farce, as Walpole would imply. It finds full warrant in the brisk and gay dialogues, the generous use of dramatic irony, the new and joyous turn given the time-worn formula of mistaken identity, and in the skill with which anticipation is aroused and then abundantly gratified. The motive force of the merry intrigue never seems inadequate.

Nor need we enter into any grave rebuttal of the charge that "all things befall preposterously." It is small defence of the probability of The Mistakes of a Night (Goldsmith's subtitle) to point to that delicious misadventure of the seventeen-year old Goldsmith, who was cleverly misled by a waggish fencing-master into taking his ease at the home of a great Irish squire and was not undeceived until after breakfast on the morrow, when "he was looking at his only guinea with pathetic aspect of farewell." Nor is it enough to remind the reader that Tony's practical joke upon his mother was actually perpetrated by Sheridan at the expense of Madame de Genlis. That these incidents actually happened makes them seem not a whit less incredible. Equally beyond belief is Marlow's failure even to glance at Miss Hardcastle during their first interview. All this, as Johnson says, “borders upon farce." In that pleasant borderland of infinite possibilities excellent preparation for the incidents, clever handling of the plot, and naturalness of characters may impart, however, a momentary convincingness to the most riotous extravagances and absurdities. Of such realistic treatment Goldsmith is a master.

She Stoops to Conquer is obviously a comedy of situation rather than of character; but few will now agree with Walpole that its persons are unnatural or merely farcical. The elder Hardcastles are, in their origin, conventional stage figures, but they are so delightfully realized for us that the irascibility of the man and the doting fondness of the woman for her impish son attain to the level of "comic dignity." Kate Hardcastle plays her barmaid role with an unforced sprightliness that recalls her model in The Beaux Stratagem. Hastings, typical fine fellow, and that lively lass, Constantia Neville, are more truly figures of comedy than the Faulkland and Julia of Sheridan's Rivals. As has often been pointed out, Marlow's natural timidity is

as truly revealed in his excess of impudence as in his excess of bashfulness and the high comic intention of the character is never lost in the merely comic situation" (Forster). The crowning glory of the play is of course that impish sprite, Tony Lumpkin. Whatever he may owe to the clownish heir of Steele's comedy, The Tender Husband, Humphry Gubbin, whose. relation to an income of £1500 closely resembles his own, he seems rather a composite of the more familiar figures of clown and puck, of Farquhar's Sullen and Shakspere's Robin Goodfellow. He exhibits all the young squire's awkwardness, sheepishness, loutish ignorance, love of low company, and pride of purse; he shares the village elf's buoyancy of spirit, irresponsibility, cunning, and delight in mischief that never degenerates into malice. He indeed is of the essence of farce, for such a demon of fun needs no motive for his rogueries. \

It is best to leave She Stoops to Conquer in that mirthful "debatable land" of farce-comedy with such worthy fellows as The Taming of the Shrew, The Merry Wives of Windsor, and The School for Scandal.

3

SHE STOOPS TO CONQUER

OR

THE MISTAKES OF A NIGHT

TO SAMUEL JOHNSON, LL.D.

DEAR SIR,-By inscribing this slight performance to you, I do not mean so much to compliment you as myself. It may do me some honor to inform the public, that I have lived many years in intimacy with you. It may serve the interests of mankind also to inform them, that the greatest wit may be found in a character, without impairing the most unaffected piety.

I have, particularly, reason to thank you for your partiality to this performance. The undertaking a comedy, not merely sentimental, was very dangerous; and Mr. Colman, who saw this piece in its various stages, always thought it so. However, I ventured to trust it to the public; and, though it was necessarily delayed till late in the season, I have every reason to be grateful. I am, dear Sir, your most sincere friend and admirer,

OLIVER GOLDSMITH.

PROLOGUE

By DAVID GARRICK, ESQ.

Enter Mr. Woodward, dressed in black, and holding a Handkerchief to his
Eyes.

Excuse me, sirs, I pray-I can't yet speak—
I'm crying now-and have been all the week!
'Tis not alone this mourning suit, good masters;
I've that within-for which there are no plasters!
Pray would you know the reason why I'm crying?
The Comic muse, long sick, is now a-dying!
And if she goes, my tears will never stop;
For as a player, I can't squeeze out one drop:
I am undone, that's all-shall lose my bread-
I'd rather, but that's nothing-lose my head.
When the sweet maid is laid upon the bier,
Shuter and I shall be chief mourners here.
To her a mawkish drab of spurious breed,
Who deals in sentimentals will succeed!

I Poor Ned and I are dead to all intents,
We can as soon speak Greek as sentiments!
Both nervous grown, to keep our spirits up,
We now and then take down a hearty cup.
What shall we do?-If Comedy forsake us!
They'll turn us out, and no one else will take us,
But why can't I be moral?-Let me try-

My heart thus pressing-fixed my face and eye-
With a sententious look, that nothing means

(Faces are blocks, in sentimental scenes),

Thus I begin-All is not gold that glitters,

Pleasure seems sweet, but proves a glass of bitters.
When ignorance enters, folly is at hand;

Learning is better far than house and land.

Let not your virtue trip, who trips may stumble,

And virtue is not virtue, if she tumble.
I give it up-morals won't do for me;

To make you laugh I must play tragedy.

One hope remains-hearing the maid was ill,

A doctor comes this night to show his skill.

To cheer her heart, and give your muscles motion,

He in five draughts prepared, presents a potion:

A kind of magic charm-for be assured,

If you will swallow it, the maid is cured.