Jamie's+Notes+on+Bradley+Part+4

In this tragic world, then, where individuals, however they may be and however decisive their actions may appear, are so evidently not the ultimate power, what is this power?

Some are so much influenced by their own beliefs that they import them more or less into their interpretation of every author who is sympathetic to them. Any answer we give to the question proposed ought to correspond with, or to represent in terms of the understanding, our emotional understanding in reading the tragedies.  It will be agreed, however, first, that this question must not be answered in theological language. These ideas do not materially influence his representation of life, nor are they used to throw light on the mystery of its tragedy. The Elizabethan drama was almost secular ; and while Shakespeare was writing he practically confined his view to the earthly. He looked at this world most intently and seriously; and he painted it, we cannot but conclude, completely without the wish to enforce an opinion of his own, and, in essentials (grammar error), without regard to anyone's hopes, fears, or beliefs.  Two statements, next, may at once be made regarding the tragic fact it: one, that it is and remains to us something piteous ; the other, that the representation of it does not leave us crushed, rebellious, or desperate.  From the first it follows that the ultimate power in the tragic world is not adequately described as a law or order which we can see to be just and benevolent -- And from the second it follows that this ultimate power is not adequately described as a fate wh ether malicious and cruel, or blind and indifferent to human happiness and goodness: for in that case the spectacle would leave us desperate or rebellious. The tragic world is a world of action and action is the translation of thought into reality. We see men and women confidently attempting it. They strike into the existing order of things in pursuance of their ideas. But what they achieve is not what they intended ; the power that works through them makes them the instrument of a design which is not theirs.  All this makes us feel the helplessness of man. Yet by itself it would hardly suggest the idea of fate, because it shows man as in some degree, however slight, responsible. In Shakespeare’s world, we find practically no trace of fatalism in its more primitive, crude and obvious forms.. Nor, I believe, are the facts ever so presented that it seems to us as if the supreme power, whatever it may be, acting against a family or an individual. Neither, lastly, do we receive the impression (which, it must be observed, is not purely fatalistic) that a family, owing to some hideous crime or impiety in early days, is doomed continue a career of portentous calamities and sins. Shakespeare, indeed, does not appear to have taken much interest In heredity, or to have attached much importance to it.  What, then, is this 'fate' which the impressions already considered lead us to describe as the ultimate power in the tragic world? It appears to be mythological expression of the whole system of order, of which the individual characters form an inconsiderable and feeble part; which seems to determine, far more than they, their native dispositions and their circumstances, and, through these, their action; which is so vast and complex that they can scarcely at all understand it or control its workings; and which has a nature so definite and fixed that whatever changes take place in it produce other changes inevitably and without regard to men's desires and regrets. And whether this system of order is best called by the name of fate or not, 1  it can hardly be denied that it does appear as ultimate power of the tragic world, and that it has such characteristics as these. But the name 'fate' may be intended to imply something more -- which would lead us to describe it as a moral order and its necessity as a moral necessity.