Atlantic Monthly, Vol. 4, no. 22, August 1859 | Page 4

The story of Joseph, the march in the
wilderness, the history of David, are full of it.
There are not only dramatic dialogue and movement, but dramatic
monologue and episode. For illustration, we might refer to Hagar in the
wilderness. Her tragic loneliness and shuddering despair alight upon
the page of Scripture with the interest that attends the introduction of
the veiled Niobe with her children into the Grecian theatre.
There are those who say, that the truth of particular events, so far as we
are conscious of it, is a drawback on the pleasure as well as the dignity
of the drama,--in other words, that the Bible is too true to afford what is
called dramatic delight, while the semblance of truth in Shakspeare is
exactly graduated to this particular affection. Between the advocates of
this theory, and those who say that Shakspeare is true as truth itself, we
can safely leave the point.
The subject has another aspect, which appears in the inquiry, What is
the true object of the drama? If, as has been asserted, the object of the
drama be the exhibition of the human character,--if, agreeably to

Aristotle, tragedy purifies the affections by terror and pity,--or if,
according to a recent writer, it interests us through the moral and
religious principles of our nature,--or even if, according to Dr. Johnson,
it be the province of comedy to bring into view the customs, manners,
vices, and the whole character of a people,--it is obvious that the Bible
and the drama have some correspondence. If, in the somewhat heated
language of Mrs. Jameson, "whatever in religion is holy and sublime, in
virtue amiable and grave, whatever hath passion or admiration in the
changes of fortune or the refluxes of feeling, whatever is pitiful in the
weakness, grand in the strength, or terrible in the perversion of the
human intellect," be the domain of tragedy, this correspondence
increases upon us.
If, however, it be the object of the drama to divert, then it occupies a
wholly different ground from the Bible. If it merely gratifies curiosity
or enlivens pastime, if it awakens emotion without directing it to useful
ends, if it rallies the infirmities of human nature with no other design
than to provoke our derision or increase our conceit, it shoots very,
very wide of the object which the sacred writers propose.
It is worthy to be remarked, that the Jews had no drama, or nothing that
answers to our idea of that term at the present time; they had no
theatres, no writers of tragedy or comedy. Neither are there any traces
of the dramatic art among the Egyptians, among whom the Jews
sojourned four hundred years, nor among the Arabs or the Persians,
who are of kindred stock with this people. On the other hand, by the
Hindoos and Chinese, the Greeks and Romans, histrionic representation
was cultivated with assiduity.
How shall we explain this national peculiarity? Was it because the
religion of the Jews forbade creative imitation? Is it to be found in the
letter or the spirit of the second commandment, which interdicts the
making of graven images of any pattern in earth or heaven? We should
hardly think so, since the object of this prohibition is rather to prevent
idolatry than to discourage the gratification of taste. "Thou shalt not
bow down to them nor serve them." The Jews did have emblematic
observances, costume, and works of art. Yet, on the other hand, the
Jews possessed something resembling the drama, and that out of which
the dramatic institutions of all nations have sprung. The question, then,
why the Jews had no drama proper, and still preserved the semblance

and germ thereof, will be partially elucidated by a reference to the early
history of dramatic art.
In its inception, the drama, among all nations, was a religious
observance. It came in with the chorus and the ode. The chorus, or, as
we now say, choir, was a company of persons who on stated occasions
sang sacred songs, accompanying their music with significant gesture,
and an harmonious pulsation of the feet, or the more deliberate march.
The ode or song they sang was of an elevated structure and
impassioned tone, and was commonly addressed to the Divinity.
Instances of the ode are the lyrics of Pindar and David. The chorus was
also divided into parts, to each of which was assigned a separate
portion of the song, and which answered one another in alternate
measures. A good instance of the chorus and its movement appears
after the deliverance of the Jews from the dangers of the Red Sea.
"Then sang Moses and the children of Israel this song unto the Lord: 'I
will sing unto the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously,'" etc. "And
Miriam the