The bird, caged and clipped, no longer sang. There was no poetry left in tragedy, and no human nature. Was there anything, then, in this type that showed advance over the preceding centuries, or anything that offered promise for future development? Not one of the literary forms in which the eighteenth century excelled, and not one fully representing the pseudo-classical theories, tragedy cannot be fairly judged as representing classicism _versus_ romanticism. It merely presents a deteriorated English tradition modified and narrowed by pseudo-classical rules and theory. Yet it corrected and modified English tradition where it needed corrections and modifications, without quite denationalizing it. The admixture of comedy, prone to become gross farce, the horrors and bloodshed, and the brutal and revolting themes were rightly abandoned. In structure there was a more positive reformation. Stage illusion and precision of effect may be aided by an observance of the unities, and the limitation of the action to a single plot, a few persons, and a few scenes,--Shakespeare and encomiasts of his art to the contrary notwithstanding. It must be added that in practice the unities are likely to result in a counter-balancing defect, in a concentration of incident improbable and artificial, as often in eighteenth century tragedies, and even in Ibsen. The pseudo-classicists erred mainly in taking their rules as masters instead of as guides. Yet eighteenth century tragedy deserves this meed of praise that it sought for literary form, which preceding tragedy had largely lacked; and its attempts to secure this offered useful lessons for the future. But here the usefulness of its dramatic art ends. In the limitation of what could be acted and of what belonged to the species, it was suicidal. French tragedy in its effort to imitate Greek failed to take advantage of the resources of modern theatres; and English tragedy, halting between English and French precedents, simply confined itself to well-worn theatrical customs. There are not only no new subjects or characters, there are no new situations, surprises, or catastrophes, no new methods of exposition or dialogue. Some of the worst of the old conventions survived, as the soliloquies, which continue long, frequent, and undisguised, but it would be hard to find even a bit of stage business that was new. Eighteenth century tragedy made no adequate demands of its splendid theatres and great actors.[38]