A. LIBRARY OF THK AT PRI]¥CETOJ¥, ]V. J. Letter No. DONATION (IF S A M V E I. A a N K W , 'iF 1MM 1. A ]) K L P H I A. V A. A \Ayif •^f W. PERCIVAL CHUBB, iSookselUr, ^Printer anU ^PubltsHer, No. 2, TOTTENHAM COURT ROAD, (^ The first House from Oxford Street, (outside the Court.) A Miscellaneous Collection of New ^ Second- hand Books, Prints, S,^c. remarkably cheap. Medi ivieaical, Surgical, Scientifical, and Standard ^ Works of every De«cription procured to Order, :^ on which 20 per Cent, discount is allowed for *^ prompt payment. Newspapers, Magazines, Reviews, and Periodical Publieations of every denomination regularly served in any Part of London and its Environs. Letter-press and Copper-plate Printing Book- binding, <^c executed on reasonable Terms, Labels, Show-bills, Tickets, &c. for windows Libraries and Small Lots of Books, Prints, and Waste Paper Purchased. Office for Susday NEHit papers. Case, Shf1f\ Sac FREE THOUGHTS UPON METHODISTS, ACTORS, AND THl INFLUENCE OF THE STAGE; wnil AN ' Introductorif Letter to Mrs* , Of '• Castle, G LA MO n G AN SHIR E, Upon the Origin of the DRAMA, &c. &c. &c. KRT MANSEL, By robe Of the llieatres Royal York and Hull, LIKEWISE, A DISCOURSE ON THE Lawfulness and Unlawfulness of Plan's.; WRITTEN BY THE LEARNED FATHER CAFFARO, DIVINITY PROFESSOR AT PARIS. " Jntlge not accoriling to the appearance, but judge righteous jujlgrment." John vii.-^t. "yaarefhey wliich justify jouraelves before men; but God VKoweth vour hearts: for that which is highly esteemed among meu, is abomination, iu the Bight of God," Luke xvi. 16. HULL: PRINTED FOn THE AUTHOR, AND J. CRAGGS; AND SOL© BY LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER-RO>y, LONDON; AND WILSON AND SON, YORK. 18U. WILLIAM ROSS, PRINTER, BOWLALLEY-LANE, HULL. TO THE PUBLIC. The foUvwing subscription originated with some friends of Mr. ManscU voho wished to secure him from the possibility of sustaining a pecuniary loss. At the same time, in compli- ment to his feelingSy they declined attempting by personal application or solicilation to swell the list beyond the end designed. This friendly and delicate mode of promoting his interest^ without compromising his honour^ claims his warmest ^ratitude^ and will, at oMce, explain the cause of the work^s ^t^pearing t£>ith iuck aidy and account for the paucity of th% mmhtHi To theie vsho hfive faveur^d him v>ith thtir assistance, and voluntary support^ to accomplish the object proposed, he tenders his sincere thanks. He is convinced by their coming forward unsolicited, that they will appreciate the value of grateful acknowledgments from a man too proud to beg, and too just to receive a favour with silence and indifference, lie is aware that many of his brother performers (particularly those with whom he has had the pleasure of associating) villi he surprised, if not hurt, at the apparent neglect which has been evinced towards them, in not being apprised of hi9 intention to publish by subscription^ In his own defence, he can only state, that it was his original purpose to have forwarded a prospectus to every: IT theatrical community in the united kingdom^ and ht had determined upon addressing them by letter^ through the jnedium either of the managers]or their deputies; and thus have put it in the power of tbe individuals to give, or to uiith' hold the sanction of their names. In conformity with ihh plan, five advertising letters were despatched. His profcssiovat pursuits, and other avocations^ prevented his accomplishing the whole scheme at one time. A few weeks escaped, and ha began to suspect he had been guilty of an impertinence. Sijt nsontbs have now elapsed, and three of his letitrs out of ihg five remain unanswered, unnoticed! This painful experience prevented him from runnir.g the sha nee of being again wounded by silent hint^ of rebuke. To the other two gentlemen^ {Mr. Robertson^ the manager of ths Sheffield company', and Mr, Fitzgerald, the acting manager at Norwich) Mr. M. considers himself highlij indebted, not only for the promptitude of their rep/itS, but for the friendly interest they tApreSiiii for hit iwtt'c*.* through liftj, Tt Mr, Matthews, of Covent-Qarden, he fecU much obligeU for the facility vith lohich he furnishtd Mr. M. with the correctiont and additions to the instances of longevity given in page 153. To the subscribers in general, he once more of}\'rs his acknowledgments ; should the ensuing sheets be found to possess any claim to public approbation, he is convinced they ttilt congratulate theinselvrs for the assistance they have furnished. Should the tcork be found unworthy of support, he will congratulate himself that the contributions were not «x tended. II i-LL, March lylbli^ LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. A. Peter Ackloni, Esq. Mrs. Acklom Mr. T, Agar, York Doctor Alderson, Hull Captain Arnold, Royal Engineers. Mr. Armstrong — • Aston, Manchester — James Atkinson, York B. Joseph Baker, Esq. Milford Lodg^ Mr. James Barber, York John Bell, Flidl -— Bellamy, Theatre Royal, Norwich Bennett, Ditto ^ Ditto — — John BensOn, York H.W.Betty William Beverley, Esq. Mr. James Bielby, York ,' James Birch, Hatjield Miss Bisby, Doncaster Mr. John Bolton, York B. H. Bright, Esq. Manchester John Britton, Esq. F. S. A. Mr. Brook, jun. Doncaster T. Brook, York - — Bromley, Theatre-Royal, Norwich Thomas Brown, Ganstead e. Mr. H. Cautley, 3 copies, York —7- Carter, Theatre, Sheffield Captain -Carpenter, Garrison, Hull Major , General Chettey, 3 copies. Miss Cherry, Theatre Royal. Norwich Mr. €. P. Clayton, York A3 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. Captain Clarke, Royal Marines Mr. W. Clifford, Theatre-Royal, Norzoick J. Colbeck, jiin. Doncaster George Coulson, Esq. Uull Mr. William Craggs, Ditto J. Crosse, Esq. Ditto D. Mr. Dickenson, Drljield Dunn, Ditto E. '■ Mr. Elston, Theatre Royal, Norwich Emery, 2 copies, Theatre-Royal Covcnt Garden Etridge, York James Everingham, B. C. John Lewis Eyre, Esq. Yvrk F. Mr. Firth, Theatres-Royal, York and Hull Fitzgerald, Ditto, Norwich Miss Fitzgerald, Ditto, Ditto A Friend, 6 copies Charles Frost, Esq. Hull Mr. J. R. Fryer, York G. Lieutenant Galloway, 10th Regiment Mr. Gray, Drijfield Mrs. John Grimston, Neswick H. Edward Haggerston, Esq. Mr. Thomas Hall, Doncaster F. Hall, jun. W. Hall, Theatres- Royal, York and Hull Major Hamilton, A. Q. M. G. Mr. J. P. Harley, Theatres-Royal, York & Hull H. W. Hentig, Esq. Mr. Hammond, Theatre-Royal^ No7^wich Hewett, , Ditto, Ditto J. C. Hindes, Esq. Theatre Royal, Noi^zskh Henry Hodgson, Esq. Sherbourne Macklin Holiandj Esq. LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. Mr. Hope, Theatres-Royal, York m%d Hull H. Hovvlett, 3 copies, York K. Mr. Kelly, Theatres-Royal, York and Hull Edward Kerr, Esq. Hull Miss Kina:, Theatre-Royal, Norwich Edward Knowsley, Esq. llutl Captain George Lutton, 2 copies, York M. Captain Machell Colonel Maister Lieutenant Colonel Maister II. W. Maister, Esq. Thomas Manly, Esq. Theatre, Sheffield Mr. Matthews, Theatre-Royal Covent-Gardca W. M. Maude M 'Gibbon, 3 copies, London Wallace Metcalf, Esq. W. Middleton, Esq. Hull Mr. Murphy N. Miss Neville, Doncaster Mr. New march, Jun. C. J. Newstead, York W. Nicholson, Merchant, Hull Miss Nightingale, York R. Norris, Beverley O. Mrs. R. Osborne, Hull P. J. C. Parker, Esq. Hull R. C. Pease, Esq. Ditto J. R. Pease, Esq Ditto Mr. T. Percival, York J. K. Picard, Esq. Hull Mr. Pratt, Theatre-Royal, Norwich R. Frederic Reynolds, Esq. London Mrs. Reynold* LIST OF SUBSGRIBPHS. Mr. J. Rickard, Dancaster James Robertsoa, Esq. Theatre, SJieffield Thomas Robertson, Esq. Theatre, Lincoln Mr. J. Robiason, York Robinson, Di^ijfield S. Miss E. Severs, York Captain Sharp, 4th Kast York Local Militia Mr. Thomas Sheppard P. Slacli, Don caster John Smith, !*^sq. HpAl Barnard Smith, Esq. -^ copieSj York Mr. Suettj Doncaster —- Sowby, Hull F. W. Storry, York < W. Storry, Ditto Stringer, Attorney, D.omflsfer Rev. R. Sykes Mr. Sykes T. Lieutenant Terry, 65th Regiment Mr. J. Thompson, X ork Todd, Market-Place^ Hull T. Trotter, Esq. 2 copies, Worthing ■ V. Mr. H. Vining, Theatre-Royal, Nonoich W. Mr. E. Wallis, York Lady Walsh, Warjield^ Berkshire Mrs. Walton, 2 copies, Domcasier Mr. Waterworth, Attqrney-at-Law, Doncasht William Wijkius, Esq. Norwich Joseph Wilkinson, Esq. Cottingham Mr. Wilkinspn, Theatre-Royal, Norwich J. S. Williamson, Esq. Mr. Williams, Theatre-Royal, Norwich Thomas Wilson, Esq. Y6rk Mr. Thomas Wilson R. Worksop, Esq. Doncaistep Mrs. Worksopj DitU^ TO THE PATRONS, SUPPORTERS, FRIENDS, AND ADMIRERS OP THE DRAMA, l«tii ATTE'tfPf TO ftEsCOE If FROM ASPERSION, ANO ESTABLlsn ITS VTILlTVy 1% TIIK ANXIOUS BARNEST WISH AND AMBITION OF TI|EIH MOST OBEDIENT HUMBLE SERVANTj Robert Manseh IIlli>, March 1, 1814, INTRODUCTOIiy EPISTLE Addressed to Mrs, Of — . Castle, GLAMORGANSHIRE,' \Dontainincf a nen it vecame a7i otnect c^ ^efnenendon to the tj/^atueu o£ the ^rmicn, kM^^o, a mie£ exa^nlnation oS ttie cliMeient ojilniGn^ aeuveted on tm aumect oS ine h^iama, Su ancient ^kito ^iheu and tne eaztler (bccie^ianticii. 040^ HgSaeeg 8M W WS»«!ffl JB W«JM « To Mis. , Castle^ GLAMORGANSHIRE. MadaMj When reflection casts back a re« trospective glance^ through the intervening medium of care^ disappointments^ misfor- tunCj contumely and regret^ to the tranquil period of my life^ passed under the roof of your pious^ reverend^ and much esteemed B father, it arises to my recollection like a poetical dream, or fjiirj vision of the mind. The placid fleeting hours, dedicated to a reciprocal exchange of thought, during " that happy age, when nature wears no mask,'' serve to mark succeeding years of anxiety and pain with a most frightful chilling contrast! Still, neither lapse of time, effect of absence, pressure of the world, difference of situations, — nothing can banish the object from my memory, that once constituted the source, from whence those pure joys of innocence and youth alone could emanate ! To find you possessing rank, wealth, splendour, talents, and accomplishments, and still retaining your native innocence of mind, cheerfulness of temper, and suavity of manner, is a subject as much to the honour of human nature, as it is consola- tory to your many friends. [ have more than ever to lament the |)o verty of ai y genias, in not possessing taste or pov/crs to prodr;ce a composition^ cal- cuhitcd to display the high sense I enter- tain of your worth and excellence^ by aa open avowal of your name^ which would at once gratify the wish of my hearty and excite an interest in my favour that would adorn and support a much weaker cause than the one I have tlxe honour to advocate. But^ proudly advantageous as this disclo- sure would be, I have neither the selfish- ness, nor the indelicacy to implicate your name^ in a controversy;, with opponents not over precise in their selection of abusive epithets, nor over delicate in the mode of conveying them. It is not your rank, your genius, no nor your philanthropy, would protect you from the virulence of vulgarism, — ignorance, — prejudice, — and bigotry, who, one — and all, — would, with closed eyes, expanded ears, and open B2 nioutbs, overwhelm you with frothy folly^ Yeuom^ and impertinence ! Your knowledge and adoiiration of the artS;, they would term profane ; your taste in poetry and paintings heathen; your skill in musicj useless; your partiality to the drama^ impious; and your modest christian demeanour^ faint-hearted, luke-warm zeal. In vain^ would all^ who are blessed with your acquaintance^ urge your charities^, your exemplary conduct^, as a wife and a mother^ your assiduous regard to all the relative duties of your station — in shorty that your numberless good qualities demand the esteem, love^ and admiration of the wise;, the good, and the virtuous. All these^ with my opponents^ pass as nothing ! Dust in the balance ! — filthy works ! ! — Your total want of that lively faith, burning in the fervid imaginations of the Westleyan and Whitfield ian sects, amounts in this evangelical age, to such an enor- moiTs ofTc'.icCj as lo counterbalance every other virtue^ moral or divine^ that can adoni the human breast. — No, Madam, your religious education^ has been too well grounded; your judgment too sound; and your heart too pure^ to participate in the sensations of our modern mystic visionaries! You can prostrate yourself before your great Creator^ with all the rational vene- ration of a virtuous human being. You can, with all the waimth of honest gratitude, offer up your feeble thanks for the many blessings He has bestowed upon you. — • You caUj with a noble expansion of feeling, implore the Divine favour and mercy upon ALL your fellow-creatures. But you would never presume to hurl the Almighty vengeance against a poor, imperfect, erring brother! No, Madam, you are too well versed in the genuine principles of Christianity, to become religiously Mas- phemous! Nor, could you have the insanity to transport yourself, with the frantic idea B3 6 of heliolding the various attributes of the triune God*. We will leave these anti- * About three in the morning (says Mr. Wesley) the power" of God came mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell to the ground. As soon as we were recovered a little from that awe and amazement at the presence of his Majesty, we broke out with one voice, TVe praise ihee^ O God^ we acknowledge thee to be the Lord. Coke and Moore's life of Wesley, second edition, p. 178. ** At preaching this morning, I was so overcomjs -with, the love and presence, afid exceeding glory of •my Triune God, that I sunk down unable to support it!" " At the love-feast, I was again overwhelmed with his immediate presence." As I came from meeting, I was so overpowered with the presence of God, that had not a friend supported me, I could not have walked home. I was lost in depths of love, and admitted as it were, into the immediute presence of my Lord's glory I Extracts givea in Mr. Nightingale's Portraiture of Methodism, from the works of a Miss Roe of Mac- clesfield.— p. 99. christian flights to the frequenters and supporters'of band-meetings, watch -nights, and love-feasts. But, highly as I appreciate your worth, and anxious as 1 have ever been to express my sense of it, there is still a selfish latent motive, which has strongly urged me to this covert address. — I am upon the point of enduring the toil and pain attendant upon an unprofitable, irksome journey. Now, though I purpose travelling with all possible celerity, yet, in the course of my tour, I shall have to encounter so many disagreeables, and have to wander through such a labyrinth of absurdities, that it will require every aid to support me in my pro- gress. The most pleasing and essential assistance I can possibly devise, is by men. tally enjoying your society during my pursuit: ^' By bearing your idea ever '^ present in my thoughts, virtue shall keep ^^an advocate within me;*' and as your 8 cooler judgment used frequently to check the petulence of the Boy^ your zVZdaZ pre- sence shall restrain the impetuosity of The MaN:, This will inspire me with confidence to accomplish my task^ con- quer difficulties^ and remove impedi- ments of every description. Thus having fixed the plan to my own wish, let us pro- ceed ; I will, however, first of all inform you, that in our rapid excursion, we shall enjoy a transient glance of those cities so celebrated by historians, philosophers^ orators, poets, and painters ; cities of your earliest acquaintance, and objects of your more mature admiration — — Athens and Rome. We shall converse, for a short time^ with several of your most intimate acquain- tance ; but they will not, as usual, com- mand that attention, respect, and delight which you have ever considered as their just tribute. I 9 Forbiddini^, as this prospect is, I am sorry to say it is the most brilliant \vc shall enjoy in this intended pilgrimage, — When we quit clasical ground we shall have to associate with strange beings, some of whom will provoke your laughter, others your anger. Some will excite your disgust^ others merit your contempt, and all will ultimately demand your pity. Two centuries have nearly elapsed^ since the notorious Mr. Prynne paid the forfeiture of his ears as a just reward for his histrionical researches and per- sonal inference. For nearly two centu- ries have the opposers of a theatre pro- fited by Mr. Prynne's indefatigable in- dustry, without the credit of possessing his perseverance or the honour of participating in his punishment. He formed for their benefit a reservoir, supplied with the filth of ages, and most amply have they drawn from it, to bespatter and defile the stage 10 and all its adherents. Ca'Iuni niarc, for- titer ct aliquid ad harihet. For more than two centuries have mj brother profes- sors received insults and provocations^ with a silence to be adn^ired^ and a forbearance under injuries to be envied. Two cen- turies endurance of calumnv, irive evident proofs of mental superiority on one side^ and of imbecile persecution on the other. But '' Sufferance is the badge of all our tribe." The anti-stagers, upon the authority of Mr. Prynne, have been constantly hurling against the object of their hatred philip- pics and anathemas furnished them by heathen philosophers and christian fathers. Arming themselves with the antiquated opinions of those ancient literary heroes^ they have conceived their attacks fatal, and their position impregnable. But surely this enlightened age, and this advanced period of the world should II suggest to them the propriety of abandon- ing their worra-eaten eiitrenchments, of resigning their purloined weapons, dis- banding their impotent auxiliaries^ parting with their ill-sorted mercenaries, and stand- ing fairly and openly before the tribunal of rational religion^ moral reason, truths and impartiality ! — To this tribunal I cite them, and if they can prove to the satisfaction of this august assemblage, that my profession^ is in opposition to Ihe interests of religion and reason^ the condemnation, by truth and impartiality, must follow. To their sen- tence I shall not only respectfully submit^ but make the most ample atonement in my power, by a public confession of my errors^ renunciation of my pursuits, and reforma- tion of MY LIFE. To truth and impartia- lity 1 appeal ; to them I call for a fair and open hearing ; and on them I rely for pro- tection from bigotted ignorance and fana- tical zeal. I must here observe to you, Madam^ that if our opponents had one par^ 12 tide of candour^ or the most distant love for justice, tliej would themselves abandon tlie idea of disturbing, on the present occa- sion, the repose of these right reverend anncient gentry in question. They knovr in their hearts that they hate and despise the very works they look up to for support and protection*. The only deference ever shewn by the Metho- dists to the fathers of the church, the opi- nions of councils^ or the Heathen philoso- * It was said of some of the fathers in the christian chnrchj (who had been philosophers, the literati of that day) that they came into Canaan laden with Egyp- tian gold. They did so, and in a little time they per- suaded the simple hearted to prize it more than the gold of ihe sanctuary. They were indeed the first grand corrupters OF THE GOSPEL OF ChRIST. Coke and Moore's life of Wesley, second edition, p. 531, 13 phers^ is in the solitary scattered sentences, denouncing vengeance against the stage. To gratify this prejudice^ to feed this darling antipathy^ to plajs and players, to demolish this fatal engine, every agent is welcomed ; they seize with avi- dity on every author ; however, absurd, foolish, ignorant, or impious. Heathen or christian, heretic or orthodox, all are em- braced and cherished, if they will only bellow for the invectives against the stage, and labour for its destruction. When en- gaged in this jneritorious pursjiit, rochets, lawn sleeves, scarlet hats, triple mitres, and all the sacerdotal paraplieimalia is de- prived of its BABYLONISH tcrrors. The fastidious puritan receives them as valu- able allies, and elevates them to the high- est rank of learning, piety, and excellence! Now, Madam, fully to convince you that I am neither capricious nor arbitrary in rejecting the interference of the ancients^ Heathen, or christian, we will proceed in our C 14 intended excursion^ and take a rapid survey of the history of the stage^ from its first invention down to the present period^ when the early fathers of the church avowed themselves its inveterate and determined opposers. We will then take a separate investigation of the different opinions de- livered^ and thus be enabled to determine and judge how far they can be brought to assimilate with the condemnations of the present stage, or how far they can apply to the now existing drama. It is a generally received opinion with the learned, that the Ludi and Spectacula of the Greeks and Romans, formed a great part of the solemn and public worship of their Gods, and were instituted on purpose to commemorate some signal benefit or ex- piate some calamity of which those Gods were the supposed authors or instruments. These shows were usually preceded by a solemn procession of the Gods to whom 15 they were dedicated, and the priests and sacrificers in their formalities, with the vic- tim in all its religious pomp ; this was suc- ceeded by vows made, and sacrifices per- formed upon the spot, whether it were theatre, circus, or any other public build- ing*. After all these were performed ot finished, the show was ordered to begin, which was also a principal part of the re- ligious worship, and concluded the so- lemnity of the day. In these shows, the amours of the Gods were related and sung, with the accompaniments of music and dancing. — The whole forming the most obscene, disgraceful spectacle possible to C2 * Nearly the whole of this short inquiry into the origin of the drama, &c. is taken from " The ancient »nd modern stages surveyed." An ingenious work published in reply to Mr. Collier, dated 1699. 16 be conceived^much lessexhibited before aiij people advanced bevond the verge of bar^ barism. — The lowest stews alone could fur- nish prostitutes depraved enough to be as- sistant characters at these festive debauch- eries. The full description of which would only sully my pages^ offend decency^ and repel the eye of modesty. I mention the Ludi and the Spectaculi firsts because by the careless and the inattentive^ they are very frequently blended with the legitimate drama^ More than half of the invectives given to the ancient schoolman, and the fathers originated in their invincible hatred to these abominable shows*. — Not that I presume to claim an origin of a superior kind, for the foundation of dramatic repre- sentations. No — like the Spectaculi and the Ludi, it sprung from the religious .1 ... I. .... n ■ * Josephus, or his translator, designate Aliturius an actor, but he was a Pantomime in high favour M'ith Nero. 17 worship of the Heathens. It was in • vented in honour to Bacchus, and con I sisted of songs in his praise, music and^ dancing, about a sacrificed goat, intermixt with rustic raillery, suitable to the genius and temper of the boors and villagers that were the performers. Tragedy and comedy were not then considered separate provinces in poetry, but either name indifferently sig- nified the same thing; the first being taken from the sacrifice, which was a goat ; the other from the performers, which were the peasants or villagers ; or from the nature of the entertainment itself, which was com- posed of rural music, songs, and dances. It is presumed by some, that the partition of tragedy and comedy was first made, when the poets, quitting the dithyrambi or hymns to Bacchus, betook themselves to the representations of stories or fables of their own invention ; the nature of the subjects then becoming different, accord- ing to the poet's choice, the names were C3 1:8 divided betwixt them. Or it may be^ that the part which we now^ in a restrained sense^ call tragedy, being first refined and improved, and becoming the study and diversion of more polite men, and the other continuing longer in the possession of the villagers, retained the name of comedy, for distinction sake, even after its utmost improvements. I cannot intrude upon your time, nor infringe so far upon my own plan, as to pursue the drama through all its modifications, to its polished height, and vigorous form in Greece — nor follow its transplantation into Rome, the repulsive reception it encountered there, its finally surmounting all objections, and elevating itself to a rank inferior only to its Grecian parent. But, notwithstanding the dra- matic art, improved so greatly upon its humble origin ; notwithstanding the sacri- fice of the goat, had been long disconti- nued — the satyri in praise of Bacchus abo- lished, and the plays appointed occasionally 19 ill honour of any of the Gods^ so that they were, as the auditors rightly observed. Nihil ad Bacchum, siiW the stage remained sacred tOj and under the protection of its old patron, who had amongst the Romans his Altar on the Right Hand of the Stage, and the particular God, to whom the play was dedicated, on the left*. In this state, much degenerated by show and spectacle, the fathers found the Roman stage. And it was occasionally profaned by representations of the Liidi Scenici, ^^ Nee fas est nobis nudire adulttria deo- ruin hominumq, qucs suavi verborum mo- dulantur mercedej-/' * The figures of tragedy and comedy frequently occupy those situations in the modern theatre, but they haTe no avorshipers, nor do we wish them.— We are as averse to enthusiasm as we are hostile to SUPERSTITION". + Another instance of their incorrectly blending tjic Histriones and the Ludi. 20 This being the case^ a christian could not be present, or assist at these represen- tations, without openly countenancing or conforming to the idolatrous worship of the Heathens; which the fathers, as be- came conscientious and pious pastors, were extremely solicitous to prevent. They were sensible of the difficulties they had to en- counter, and the obstacles they had to sur- mount. The christian religion was yet but newly planted, and therefore until it had taken sufficient root, was carefully to be covered and defended from the injuries of rude beasts, and the contagion of those rank superstitious weeds that grew about it, by which the root might be killed, or the soil infected, and the sap withdrawn. Paganism was a religion invented at first to oblige and captivate the people, and gained its credit and authority among them by indulging their sensuality, and 21 even gratifying their lusts ; it was aug- mented by degrees, by ambitious cunning men, who, to render themselves more po- pular, and gain an interest with the multi- tude, recommended to them under the no- tion of religion, what they found most ac- ceptable to the humour and palate of the populace. By this means the various pro- cessions, games, and shows, were intro- duced, and became the most formal part of their solemnities; men being easily per- suaded to like what was so conformable to their inclinations, that in the exercise and discharge of their duties, their senses were entertained, and their appetites flattered. Against a superstition thus framed for lux- ury, and contrived for sensual enjoyment, Christianity was to make its way, drive out those rites, destroy a title founded upon the prescription of many ages, supported by the authority of the civil government, and fortified in its possession by prejudice, inclination, and interest; and all this to be 23 done with the assistance 'only of truths and simplicity of doctrine and manners. The pomp and magnificence of their solemn worship was absolutely to be taken away, and their licentious practices to be re- strained, reformed, and replaced^ by severe principles and austerity. All this to be accomplished amongst a people, whom the submission and tribute of the world for ages, had made wealthy, proud, and wanton. it is not, therefore, to be wondered at if those early champions of the gospel pro- portioned their zeal and vigilance to the magnitude of the occasion, and the strength of the opposition. The games and shows of the ancient heathens were the parts of their religion the most generally engaging, that attracted most and kept the multitude firmest to them. The fathers, who knew where the strength lay, have employed all their artillery against these shows ; their batteries have played incessantly upon 23 them as the only forts that were capable of making resistance and stopping their pro- gress — The drama^ from its idolatrous origin, and its then existing appearance, of course participated with the shows in the condemnation of the fathers. It was un- warrantable because idolatrous ; and, in their opinion, impossible for a christian, however well principled or disposed, to partake of the entertainment without sha- ring the pollution, or to abstract the diver- sion from the guilt. They thought it dangerous to trust their converts, however fortified, to the temptation of so seductive a religion, which was far from curbing the appetites or laying any restraints upon the desires of its proselytes. Indeed, many of its duties were but panders to their lusts^ and most of its acts of devotion so many entertainments for their senses. The por- tion of those that embraced Christianity was mortification and suffering, meeting perpetual discouragement, and (until the 24^ time of Constantine ) encountering frequent persecutions. Their reward was in rever- sion ; their expectation^ indeed^ was large^ but the prospect was distant. Present ease and enjoyment are too apt to prevail against a remote hope. In our common affairs of the world futurity maintains itself but ill against the present ; and neither the great- ness nor the certaintv of the reversion will appear as a sufficient counter-balance to the immediate possession. This was the case of Christianity in its infancy. The heathen priesthood^ con- tented with the countenance and encou- ragement of the state^, submitted to the directions and appointment of it even in matters relating to their own mysteries : they assumed no dominion or jurisdiction over private consciences^ either in point of principle or practice^ but left those matters wholly to the civil government^ which made laws for their regulation, and ap- 25 pointed niagisii.i'cs for the inspection of men's manners, in which regard was had chiefly^ if not oniy, to the public quiet and security — to the preservation and augment- ation of the state. The people therefore received easily^ a religion, wliich, though false^ gave them so little disturbance ; their theology, like their worship, was suited, and adapted to the capacity of the multitude. — The one consisting of surprising fables, the other of delightful solemnities. But the gospel had none of these advan- tages with the million ; it was not con- trived and modelled for popularity, it did not humour the inclinations, and indulge the appetites of the people. To the purity of its doctrine, a conformity of life and manners was required, the passions were to be curbed, and the desires moderated. Instead of pomp and learning, simplicity D 26 and sobriety were to be their entertain* merits: — their amorous Gods^ whose fabu- lous histories gave countenance to men's lustSj and encouragement to their debauch- eries, were to be displaced, and the know- ledge and worship of the true one to be introduced, whose majesty was as grand and awful, as the others were represented trifling and culpable ! These were the conditions of conversion from Heathenism, and the change must appear to mere flesh and blood, ratlier dis- advantageous. The Fathers, therefore, who knew how hard it was to keep the appetites in entire subjection, took care to fortify, as strongly as possible, those parts in which they expected the rebellion should first break out. The plays of all the Hea- then solemnities were those that gave the strongest temptation to the new converts ; they had so little of the air of religion, that they thought if they did not countenance 27 the end and design of tliem, they might, without imputation, partake of the diver- sion, in which they met with frequent examples of innocence and virtue. This alarmed the Fathers, they justly appre- hended that their converts, from liking the entertainments themselves^ might proceed to approve the occasion of them. — To obviate these dangers, they summoned all their prudence, and all their art ; they omitted no topic which rhetoric or satire could supply, to fright or persuade men from those diversions. Nor was all their zeal and caution any more than was necessary — the danger was great, and so was the temptation; the fort was to be maintained, not only against an enemy without, but a strong faction within; the senses appetites, and passions were already gained to the enemies' party, nothing remained but religion and reason to make good the defence. Tliose generals therefore D8 28 that ^\ouid bold out wlien tlie garrison was inclined lo surrender^ must not only display their courage and conduct, but exert their jurisdiction likewise to the utmost. This the ancient fathers did, whose examples have been followed by many in succeeding* periods, without the same reason, authority, or success. Thus, Madam, have we finished our projected tour, and as far as gratified curiosity can be satisfactory to an inquiring mind, I trust we have derived some satisfac- tion from the expedition. — We now come to the more delicate task of examining the qualifications of our accusers, and the justice of their accusations. You will perceive we have formidable names to contend with; Plato, Xenophon, Aristotle, Solon, Seneca, Cicero, Livy, and a longtrain of &c's. frightful to enumerate. Be not alarmed — there's nothing in a name — ''tush, tush, scare boys with bugs/' — Plato savs^ 29 ''Plajs raise the passions and pervert the use ofthem.and, by consequence, are dangerous to morality/* — There is the whole of Plato's evidence ? — Now, we can produce plays that do not pervert the passions^ conse- quently, all plays upon that score are not dangerous. Xenophon condemns '^'^the warm licentiousness of dramatic poets."— Licentiousness is not now a necessary ingredient, it is justly dismissed in disgrace^ and therefore Xenophon's opinion is quite irrelevant to the subject. But [ cannot dismiss this ancient worthy, without intro-^ ducing to your notice a passage which I met with in a puritanical invective, written against the stage in the year 1699. — It is there set out with a formality of dulness, and an affectation of consequence that ren- dered it one of the most irresistibly comic passages I ever encountered. — It is a description of a dramatic entertainment, Xenophon witnessed — where, \ am not suffi- ciently versed in ancient lore, to inform you^ D3 30 but I will give it you as I found it. '' The Sjracusian entered like Bacchus^ with a pipe before him^ playing a rioting tune. Then entered Ariadne^, gorgeously apparel- led like a bride^ and sat down before the company ; she did not go to meet Bacchus as a dancing, nor rose from her seat^ but made such signs as discovered he might have an easy conquest. When Bacchus beheld her^ he expressed his passion^ as much as possible^ in his dance^ and drawing near her, fell down on his knees, embraced and kissed her. She^ though with some faint resemblance of coyness and modesty^ embraced him again. At this the specta- tators gave shouts of applause! — The whole audience swore, that the boy and girl loved one another in reality ; for they did not act like those who had been taught only to personate those gestures. At last, when the company perceived that they were clasped in one anothers arms. Those that had no wives, swore they would marrv. 31 and those that were married^ took horse and went home to their wives immedi- ately." There^ Madam, there is a delicate histrionical morceau ! — But mj author has done us great injustice, for he brings this forward as a very serious heavy charge, to prove the fatal influence of theatrical representations! — Now,really,had we stage saints, as well as kings, heroes, and bishops, the Syracusean boy and girl should have a theatrical canonization. At any rate, they are worthy of being perpetuated through the medium of statues, medals, poetry, and painting. Sincerely do I wish our modern Roscii had done but one ten thousandth part as much service to the state, and the morals of the people; — why, it is realizing the good old sentiment : '' The single married, and the married happy/' — It must have taken place in the golden age of the poets ! — But pleasant and refreshing as this 32 delightful matrimonial prospect is^ we cannot remain longer to dwell upon it. — We must proceed in our investigation. Aristotle declaims against the impro- priety of subjecting youth to the danger of a promiscuous company^ until they are sufficiently fortified against the influence of corruption. He is particularly apprehen- sive of drunkenness^ a term to which some ofthe disingenuous writers against the stage, have given a more extensive latitude^ by interpreting it dehauchcrij. To one of your classical information^ it will appear strange^ that Aristotle should be arranged on this side ofthe question; a writer, who has taken such infinite pains to establish rules for the more easv and regular compo^ sition of drama's^ and has pronounced a finished tragedy to be the most exalted effort of human genius ! — We must leave it to our judges, whether they will receive as honest evidence^ an insulated passage 33 in contradiction to a work;, that must have employed many years of his life. To ima- gine a man would lay down rules for the formation of a thing, of which he forbade the usC;, would be as ridiculous^ as the idea of meeting a player without vanity^ or a mcthodist without rancour. Solon expressed his dislike to the representations of Thespis, by striking his staff upon the ground^ and uttering some angry words. The philoso- phers choler was excited by the ribaldry of an artj in its earliest and most imperfect state, Seneca expressed his displeasure towards the Romans for neglecting their schools^ and attending too closely to their theatres. — Yet^ I jneed not tell you^ that this same Seneca is supposed by Lipsius^ Joseph Scaliger, and other celebrated critics^ to have been the author of three tragedies^ viz, Medea, Hippolytus^, and Troas, 34 Cicero disapproves of the licentiousness too common in the latin dramatic poets. — But Tullj;, the orator, was the admirer, friend, and panegyrist of Roscius the actor. — -Let us hear this eloquent pleader's opinion upon a sister art ; — he sententiouslj says '^ The good and evil in a state depend greatly on the music, that is most encou- raged in it. If it be too light and 'wanton, the people are insensibly rendered foolish and disorderly. If, on the contrary, it be grave and masculine, they become modest by its influence/' — Now, really, this may be all very sensible, and the admirers of antiquity discover much wisdom and latent excellence in this declaration. — This pro- found kind of trifling might have suited the genius of a Roman politician, and have cor- responded with the dignity of the Tusculan orator. — But if Lord Henry Petty, with all his passion for the art, and his musical celebrity into the bargain, were seriously to advance such an absurd position, his friends 35 would be calculating on the melanclioly idea cf removing liim from the chapel of St. Stephen's to the hospital of St. Luke's. ' — Livy condemns^ with just indignation and severity, the encouragement given to the Ludi Sce/22c'/.-^But these are representations as widely different from the legitimate drama^ as a harlequinade can be to one of the divine compositions of Shakespeare. I will not fatigue you or myself with ^yading through anymore of these tedious and perverted authorities. — -Even allowing the quotations cited against us in their full extent, still there are left some of the greatest men in antiquity, who admired the art, and exerted their utmost power to cherish and protect it. Julius and Augustus were known to dedicate some of their leisure hours, when retired from the fatigues of state, to the composition of tragedy, Marcus Brutus, a character considered to be unimpeachable in roman Q 6 virtue, wiis a waroi paliori and supporter of the drama.- Terence^ in an indirect niaiiner^ confesses having received assistance from Scipioj Africaniis, and Lelius. In short, Madam^ tlie names of these great writers change sides so very often^ just to suit the views of the opposers or supporters of a stage^ that it really puzzles a 'plain simple man to judge or determine what party they possibly can appertain to — and by this perplexity add stronger ridicule to the idea of calling upon either Greeks or Romans to decide a question purely British ! Sincerely do I wisli both parties would coincide in the propriety of their dismissal^ nor longer suffer them to entan- gle or confuse a contest which they can neither elucidate nor terminate. Having dispatched the ancients^ I must now raise an enormous tax upon your patience^ by entreating your attention to the opinions of men who existed in an age 37 most cmphaticuliy and justly designated DARK : when the sun of knowledge had not strength to vivify inquiry, or to animate exert ioi^ when all the nobler emanations of the mind, inert, feeble, and emasculated, were easily led captives, by ignorance, bigotry, and superstition. — What will add to our mortification is, the necessity v/c shall be under of being more minute asid particular in our examination of tiie opinions broached by ascetics and retired visionaries, than we were in the investigation of the more vigorous minded heathens. — It is our duty. Madam, and we must perform it.- The fathers have UNEQUIVOCALLY and AVOWEDLY proclaimed their opinions, violently and diametrically in opposition to the use of a stage. — Most of its succeeding adversaries have followed their mode of condemnation. All its present opponents, who embellish them- selves with the name of christian, look up to the early and learned churchmen as E 3S precedents for their conduct. — It behoves uSj therefore, to search more strictly into this enormous, formidable display of ecclesias- tical vengeance. — The survey we have taken of the ancient stage, will, in some measure, account for the rooted antipathy expressed by the fathers. — Much praise is due to them for their exertions in repelling such abominations as were then exhibited. That degraded, degenerate age is passed^ and with it^ all the merit of their opposition. " — But still, I am inclined to call in question the means they adopted to check the profli- gacy of the thing they condemned. — Deceit is unpardonable — and, they have avowed charges, honest truth must condemn, and at which reason must revolt. -^I will prove to you, that the zeal of these good fathers, so far outrun discretion, as utterly to vitiate their decisions, and inca- -pacitate them for judges ; St. Augustin, St. Chrysostom, St. Gyprian, and Tertullian 'are the great authorities from whence aur modern devotees draw their invectives. 39 St. Augustiii says^ ^' That the stage was introduced into Rome for the recrea tion of the sensualists^ and admitted by the dissolute morals of the time " — this may be true — but, unfortunately for the credit of himself and his admirers, he adds — ''The Heathen Idols desired that it might be dedicated tq them ! !*'-^ 1 will not insult your understanding by expatiating on this absurdity. St. Chrysostom railed most virulently against the stage, yet read and studied all the dramatic poets ; and from that impure source, he borrowed a style of eloquence which made him the most persuasive and admired preacher of his time.^— I must here remark to you, that the most violent of our modern saints, approve of moral or religious pieces, in the form of a drama.^— It is the acting alone that is sinful ! — You remember the big endians and the litti^k ENDIANS ? E3 40 St. Cyprian sajs^, opoii the silence of THE SCRIPTURE '^'^ with respect to plays that the divine wisdom would have had a lo7V opinion of christians^ had it descended to be move particular in this case I" '' O lame and impotent conclusion 1" — Cyprian is very explicit in his reasons for feeling a detestation to the existence of a theatre. — To his reasons^ v/ith such a provocation^ every honest man must subscribe. ^'Theatra sunt fcEcliora, quo convents verundia illic omnis cxnitur simnl cum amictu, vesiis honor corf ox is, etpudorponitur, denotanda, ac contrectandayvirglnitas revelatur,'* Tertullian has been more diffuse^ more absurd, and more inveterate than any of them ; — we will pass by his having fallen into heresy^ — this blemish in the life of the holy father, wouldj upon any other question, have worked considerably to his disadvan- tage. — But you know. Madam, his being 9.n enemy to the theatre, is- a sufficient 41 apology for all the heresies into which degenerate nature could lead him. — If we may judge from the glaring nonsense he has published against the dra.ma^ we may venture to pronounce him a very probable subject to be mislead^ or dazzled by the wanderings of his own imagination.- — He says ; " The Devil mounted the tragedians upon buskins^ because he would make our Saviour a lijar !" • Passing by the absurdity of the factitious aid of dress giving real height^ or breadth, to the human figure — full well must it be known that the cothurni^ or high heeled shoes, worn by the greek tragedians, were invented upwards of one thousand years before the birth of our Saviour ! !- The learned father seems to have been indefatigable upon the subject, for he has formally recorded twelve reasons against the use of a theatre. — Conceiving them to embrace all the serious objections of that age, and finding they have an influence upon a E3 42 certain 'description of people^ even to this very day, I think they demand some little of our attention ; therefore,, with your permission^ I will copy them^ and we will pass a slight comment on each. 1st. '' Because the spirit of the gospel is a spirit of gentleness; but the actors are forced to put themselves into a posture of warmth J and anger^ and fury, and the spectators themselves cannot behold them without being put into a passion." I have certainly seen an audience evince no inconsiderable share of anger at bad acting, indecencies, and improprieties. But I have beheld hundreds of instances, where they have remained tranquil and composed, even at the very time the stage has exhibited some dire, fierce, and BLOODLESS Conflict. 2d. '' Because vanity, which is proper 43 to the stage^ is altogether foreign to Christianity/* Were this fantastical lady to be pursued through ail her different shades^ it would be diiTicult to determine to whom she legiti- mately appertains. — Sometimes she will walk demurely under a broad brim liat^ at others luxuriate in lawn sleeves; — ■ sometimes she will reason with a philoso- pher^ at others bawl with a field preacher, and even Queen Mab herself cannot exhibit more versatile powers. — At any rate^ she is not an exclusive stage property, though frequently brought thither to expose her own absurdities. 3rd. ^' Because we are not to consent to people's sin/' This ingenious objection we must leave to Rowland Hill^ Johanna Southcoate^ or any other old woman^ deep in mystery to enucleate. 44 4tli. '' Because men are abused in these places, and neither princes nor people spared, and this being unlawful elsewhere, must be unlawful upon the stage." How glorious an eulogium ! This is the highest panegyric, upon the stage, t have ever had the good fortune to peruse. — It shews the exalted independence of the dramatic muse, and the boundless extent of her power. — She knows no enemy but vice. — No friend but virtue ! — And, until all men are honest, ail princes just, all soldiers valiant, all magistrates pure, and all priests sincere, I hope and trust she will fearlessly exercise her jurisdiction, not being biassed by the rank of the culprit, but justly indignant, at the extent of his offence. 5th. '' Because all immodesty and scur- rility is forbid by the law of the gospel, and not only acting it, but seeing and hearing it acted." 45 This is as foreign to the existing drainu^ as a decree of the court of chancery to a subject of Tripoli. These offences would now receive the immediate and summary punishment of the audience^ by censure and disapprobation. 6th. " Because all players are hypocrites^ seen to be what they are not, and all hypocrisy is condemned by the gospel.'' Did you ever. Madam, at a play, imagine Mrs. Siddons was absolutely endeavouring to persuade you she was not Mrs. Siddons, but Queen Catharine ? — or Mr. Kembie, that he was really the proud patrician Coriolanus* ? — —No one of the great pleasures arising from the exhibition of the artj is^ knowing the actors designated * If identity of person can really be absorbed ia imagitiary cliaracter, these are two of the most probablo specimens I know to establish the doctrine. ■46 hy their separate names ; yet^, witnessing their skill in expressing the thoughts and actions of others.'* With respect to any other latitude given to this offensive word, I have often wished my brethren possessed a share of this modern succedaneura of every virtue. Perhaps, though, we mistake the good father^, he might have been speaking lite- rally ; — for I believe, Madam^, the term hypocrite originated in being applied to the ancient actors, who, by playing in visors, appeared that which they were not. How customs change 1 The stage adepts have dropt the visor; and adepts of another description have taken it up! 7th. '' Because the actors very often belie their sex, and put on women's apparel, which is forbid by the law of God.'' In the days of Tertullian there were no 47 actresses, the female characters were represented by youths*. With respect to the change of dress, I am aware the Mosaic law^ condemns the custom ; the reason for which, those versed in the Jewish anti- quities, customs and manners, can probably furnish us. I profess my ignorance. — I only know we do not practice the purifi- cations, and the many peculiar and minute regulations to be found in the books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy. 8th. '' Because these plays dull and damp devotion and seriousness, which is, and ought to be, the indelible character of christians." We do not wish to damp pure devotion ; on the contrary, it is our desire to fan the flame. We certainly are averse to dull * Female characters were not represented by ■women tipan the en^lish stage until after the restoration. 48 ^scrionsness. For my own part^ Mauaii)^ sincerely do I ^visll the word banished from our vocabulary. — There are at present as many absurdities^ inipertineiK^es^ and follies concealed under the epithet sei^ioiis^ as under that of shaker, 9th, ^' Because it is a disparagement to God^ to lift up those haiids to applaud a player, which we lift up to the throne of grace." Ah ! my good father^ it is not the lifting up the hands but the elevation of the heart that will be acceptable to thy judge and mine ! — The mahometans and the eastern idolators lay a stress upon the application and religious uses of thehandsj but the enlightened christian looks with contempt and pity upon such puerilities. — If the mind is sincerely devout^ the hands will follow in correspondent movements ; — nor will it ever be required at the 49 throne of mercy^ what was tlieir previous occupation. 10th. '' Because experience shows how t]ieDE\iLhathsoirietiinepos-Sf55etichristians in a play-house, and being afterwards cast out, confessed tliat lie had reason to enter them, because he found them in his own - TertuHian \ery gravciy gives us the instance in tho following style : '• A certain woman went to the play-house, and brought THE DEVIL HOME wlth her. And when the unclean spirit was pre»ssed in the exorcism, and asked how he DURST attack a christian? — I have done nothing (says he) but what I can justify — for I seized her upon my own ground." De Speciacuius, Cap. 26. But why should this excite surprise? John Wesley in the eighteenth century, declared ia the presence of a numerous company (Dr. Coke being one) that the whole bench of bishops together, F 50 Oil Madam ! what a foolish Devil ! Had he kept his own council^! what noble sport he would have had upon his rojal manor ! — To scare the o;ame from his net. could not invalidate the reality of witchcraft ! ! ! He then told a most extraordinary story of a supposed murder, which I would relate, but I wisli to supply its place with a tale recited by a preacher, at the same meeting. — The subject is a haunted house, near Dungannon, in the North of Ireland. " An officer, quartered at that town, one evening when rather pot-valia»t, went, by himself, to the haunted house, knocked at the door, and demanded to see the ghost. An old woman who opened the door of the cabin, warned him to repress his curiosity, for that the ghost, if provoked, might make liim rej)ent his intrusion ; however, he still presisting, she gave him at leogtli admittance ; and he advanced into the middle of the floor, when, to his great terror and astonishment, he found himself violently assailed by a shower of potatoes from an invisible hand, issuing from the roof ! — On which he rushed forward for shelter, and thrust his head up the wide funnel of the chimney : but the ghost still pursued him with fresh 51 shows Ilim to have heen tJien a yery silly Devil indeed^ I fancy since that period he is grown a great deal wiser^ for he now makes sure of his prey^ without acquainting us whether he takes it from the tabernacle or the play-house. 11th, '' Because no man can serve two masters^ God and the Worid^ as those christians pretend to do that frequent both the church and stage*/' showers of potatoes down the chimney, until at length he fled out of the house, battered and bruised, swearing that he got proof enough of the ghost on his head and shoulders.'* Dr. Halves Me/hodism Inspected^ Part ^nd, p, 42. * I wonder tliey have never pressed the Decalogue into the service. Thou shalt not steal — would evidently apply to the author. Thou shaU not commit murder — might be Tcry appropriately applied to the actors. E3 6.2 No man can serve God and Mammon ; and he who neglects his duty to his Maker, or suffers it to be abstracted by any pursuit, (I care not what it be) commits the crying and grevious sin of ingratitude. — But he who suffers an amusement to absorb liis devotions^ is a contemptible idiot, beneath reproof, and would disgrace correction. — This ruie^ like most of the objections furnished in the dajs of the fathers^ against the stage, no longer applies. It is nonsense to suppose that a couple of hours of rational entertainment^ after the fatigues of a day, can interfere with our duty to God or man. But^ in the time Tertullian livedo this caution w as absolutely requisite ; for the Roman shows v/ould occupy a whole Thou shalt not bow down nor bend before any graven image — would be an excellent admonition to those audiences that bestow such enthusiastic applause upon can\as camels, wooden horses, pasteboard men, and basket elephants ! 53 day, and by their pageantry draw off th« early christians, not only from their usual avocations, but to ^the utter neglect of all their reli^-ious forms and ceremonies. 12th. '' Because, though some speeches in a play are witty and ingenious, yet there is poison at the bottom, and vice is only coloured and gilded with fine language and curious emblems, that it may go down more glibly, and ruin the soul more artificially/' This is the only rule of the twelve thai has survived the wreck of time, and still bears a capability of application io the present stage. Any play, confirming the truth of the remarks contained in Tertullian's twelfth objection, should be considered in the most reprehensible point of view, and consigned, with infamy, to oblivion. — But until ALL PLAYS are proved to possess this pernicious inclination, the stage remains F3 54 uninjured ! Now, Madam, is itnotreallv lamentable, deplorable, aggravating to the extreme, that a great invention, a s'lblimc art, should be opposed by such an over- whelmingmass.of nonsense and stupidity: — nor is it the least provoking part, to be conscious of the ungenerous, nefarious mode our opponents take to direct this incon- gruous, misshapen chaos of absurdities to our disadvantage — The great and good men who have evinced their approbation of the dramatic art, not only by their countenance, but by their writings, are depreciated, dismissed, with every mark of contempt, decreed ignorant of true religion, and denounced as advocates in the service of the Devil ! A St, Cyprian, and a Tertullian, on the contrar}^, are held forth as beings of the very first order ; whose opinions, upon this one subject, are held as sacred oracles, irresistable, irrefra- gable, and infallible ! — Will they direct us where we can find^ among the fathers. 03 a stronger practical lesson upon the belu;f of Christianity, than the deatli-bed of Addison — the author of two phiys, and, during the whole of his life, the warm supporter, friend and encourager of the drama — his final exit displaying and com- bining the mildness of a christian, with tlie resolution of a stoic ! Yet a brazen faced sophist has had the temerity to affirm, that ^' the theatre made even Addison forget his \irtue and his creed!" Which of the fathers had the advantage of Dr. Johnson, in moral practice or intellectual excellence ? — Yet he is the writer of a tragedy, and his chef d'ceuvres are his preface to Shakespear's works, and his prologue for the opening of Drury-lane theatre. Where will they find, in the whole round of antiquity, a name superior to Milton ? — Why should they inviduously 56 pass liim over^ ransack the dust for beings known onlj^ by their polemical squabbles, and venerable only for the magnitude and ponderosity of their heavy folios. — Even if you did not coincide with me in opinion upon this subject^ yet such is the superior discrimination and native ingenuousness of your mind, that you would pronounce yourself a convert to the stage, by a single perusal of Milton's preface to his Sampson Agonistes. '' Tragedy,'' says he, '' as it was anciently composed, has been held the GREATEST MORALIST and most profitable of all other poems : therefore said by Aristotle to be of power, by raising piety and fear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like passions; that is, to temper and reduce them to just measure, with a kind of delight, stirred up by the reading, or seeing those passions well imitated. Hence philosophers and 57 other grave writers, as Cicero^ Plutarch, and others, frequently cite out of tragic poets, hoth to adorn and illustrate their discourse. The apostle Paul himself thought it not unworthy to insert a verse of Euripides into the text of holy SCRIPTURE. I. Cor. C. 15. V. 38. — And Peraeus, commenting on the Revelation, divides the whole book as a tragedy into ACTS, distinguished each by a chorus of heavenly harpings and songs between/' '' Heretofore men in the highest DIGNITY have laboured not a little to be thought able to compose a tragedy. Of that honour Dionysius the elder, was no less ambitious than before of his attaining the tyranny. Augustus Cesar, also had begun his Ajax, but unable to please his own judgment with what he had begun, left it unfinished. Seneca the philosopher, is by some thought the author of those tragedies (at least the best of them ) that 58 go under his name. Gregory Nazianzen, a FATHER OF THE CHURCH^ thougllt it HOt unbecoming the sanctity of his person^ to WRITE a TRAGEDY, which he entitled Christ's sufferings !'' Now^ Madam, what say you to the strong evidence in our favour, thus furnished by a religious poet, and latia secretary to the puritanical Oliver^ whose attainments as a scholar^ whose skill as a poet, and whose integrity as a man, stands unimpeachabk ? It is with extreme regret I feel myself under the necessity of detaining you a few minutes longer in this disgusting investi- gation, but I have yet in reserve, a few more absurdities, to which I must call your attention. Jeremy Collier, a name high in the list of our correctors, having given some 59 instances of the lamentable pruriencies^, to be found in the writers of bis day, proceeds to the accusation of profancness. He then particularizes. Some of bis extracts, I will furnisb you with, tbat you may feel tbe full value of his pindaric flight. Valentine, in Love for Love; says ''I am Truth, I am Truth. — Who's that that's out of his way ?—l am Truth, and can set him right,'' Lady Brute, in The Provoked Wife, observes '' The 'part of a down-right wife, is to cuckold her hushand: — afid though this is against the strict statute law of religion, yet if there were a Court of Chancery in Heaven, she should he sure to cast him.'' Young Fashion in The Relapse, when plotting against his elder brother, remarks to his servant : ^' Lory, Providence 60 thou sees!, at last, takes care of men of merit." — Berinthia says to Amanda: '' Mr. Worthy/ used yon like a text, he took yon all to ineces:'' — and she concludes wiih ibis pious exhortatioii^ '' ^^otD con- sider what lias been said, and Heaven give yon grace to put it in practice/' Mr. Collier declares^ '' There are few of these last quotations but what are plain blasphemy, and within the law. They look reeking as if it were from Pandemo- nium, and almost smell of fire and brimstone. This is an eruption of Hell with a w itness ! I almost wonder the smoke of it has not darkened the sun, and turned the air to plague and poison ! These are outrageous provocations; enough to arm all nature in revenge; to exhaust the judgments of Heaven, and sink the island into the sea ! ! !'' Observe, that I am far from considering 61 these profane passages^ or any similar to them;, justifiable. — No — I deeply deplore the propensity, that too many dramatic writers have^ for trifling with opinions, from whence wit should not be elicited^, nor into which ridicule should not be infused. Had I my Lord Chamberlain's pen to exer- cisC;, upon the new pieces^, I must candidly confess^ it would be very freely employed in the erasure of those lively jests, too imbecile to be impious, and too dull to be witty, viz. '^ I would shake hands with Old Nick/' ^^A fig for all the saints in the calendar, &c. &q. &c. But to imagine the follies of all the poets that ever existed, could poison the air, darkea the sun, and sink the island, is forming an idea so base, so puerile, so unworthy of the great enlightened incomprehensible Creator, as to make it a doubt which is the most reprehensible, the poet, or the right reverend critic. G m The next in order, gives me a considerable degreeof paintodragtopiiblicliglit, and it is •with no small degree of diffidence, I proceed to the attack of an opinion emanating from a man of known genius and splendid abiHties. — '' But men are but men/' — And when I reflect upon the violent adversary of the amiable Fenelon, 1 am released from a great part of my astonishment, in perusing the following invective of the right reverend Bishop of Meaux, against the stage, and the high panegyric upon the Israelites ! He says, '' They liad no fehows to entertain but their feasts, their sacrifices, and their holy ceremonies. Tliey were formed, by their constitution, to a plain and natural way of living : they knew nothing of these fancies and inveiitions of Greece; so that to the praise that Balaam gives them, that there is no enchantment in Jacob, nor divination in Israel, we may likewise add, there was no THEATRE among them^ nothing of these 63 daiigerous amusements to be met with : — This INNOCENT and undebauciiEd people took their recreations at hoine^ and made their children their diversion !'* That the learned Bossuet should so far suffer prejudice to cloud his reason and fetter his understandings is indeed a subject not more for astonishment than regret. To jBnd a man of his elevated rank in the republic of letters^ eulogising the Hebrews, and giving them the pre-eminence to al! the splendid nations of antiquity, must ever slaiiu as an extraordinary aberration of genius, and be classed as a phenomena in literature. What could recommend them so particularly to his notice ? Was it their perverseness, their ingratitude^ their cruelty ? — Was it their inclination for war^ their blood-thirsty revenge/ their intolle-- ranee, their villainy, their superstition, their pertinacious ignorance? — W^here are their virtues recorded ? In vain do we G2 64 search for them in their own historians ; from Moses down to Josephus^ it is but a melancholy catalogue of the base qualities I have enumerated. A people possessing* all the brutal vices of the ancients^, without the display of their virtues^ or the adorn- ment of their elegancies. A people whom neither mercy could conciliate^ nor miracles convince*. A people, that of all others, required a theatre to improve their morals^ and am.eliorate their manners. Let their own writers speak for them. " And they tempted God in their heart, by '' asking meat for their lusts." '' How shall 1 pardon thee for this ? Thy '^ children have forsaken me^ and sworn by * God's pampcr'd people, -whom, debauch'd with ease, No King could govern, and no God could please. 65 '' them that are no Gods ; when I have fed '' them to the full, then they committed '' adultery and assemhled themselves by '' troops in the harlots houses. They were '* as fed horses in the mornings and every '*' one neighed after his neighbour's wife." '' Hear the word of the Lord, ye ^' children of Israel, for the Lord hatk a '^ controversy with the inhabitants of the '^ land, because there is no truth, nor mercy, '^ nor knowledge of God in the land. By ^*^ SWEARING, and LYiNG,and sTEALiNG,and '■ COMMITTING ADULTERY, they break out, '^ and BLOOD toucheth blood !'' Such were the amusements of this innocent and undehauclied people*. * When I express myself thus about the ancient Jews, I do nof mean the smallest irreverence to'their great and holy men. — No — their characters are too exalted to be the subject either of my panegyric OP satire. I speak only of the nation at large. G3 66 NoWj Madam^ I will give jou two liappy specimens of downright stupid Puritanism, . . ^^ A remarkable judgment followed on Herod j4grippa, who appearing on the STAGE in a silver robe of admirable workmanship, and being received by the acclamations of the people as a god, because of the beams which darted from his apparel, by the reflection of the sun, was immedi- ately smitten with a grievous disease, by something that appeared m the shape of an Owl, hovering over his head ; and being tormented for five days with an intollerable pain in his bowels, was at last miserably devoured by worms ! " The Lord presarve us ! ! ! This will only excite your laughter ; the next will most sensibly call forth your indignation and reprobation ! It is a liberal opinion proclaimed from the pulpit. 67 in one of the churches of King-ston-iipon- Hull;, in the year 1792. I take it verbatim^ from Mr. Wilkinson's Wandering Patentee, (the late manager of the York and Hull theatres.) " No PLAYER or any of his children oughttobe intitled to a christian buriaL;, or even to lie in a church yard ! Not ONE of them can be saved! — And those who ENTER a play-housC;, are equally certain with the players of eternal damnation ! — No player can be an honest man ! !" It is utterly undeserving of any comment ; if the man snould be now living* and capable of reflection^, I leave him to the comforts of his own consolation. — If he has departed, it is my duty to forgive him^ and leave the above on record^ as a memento of his crime ! 68 I caiuiot injustice close my retrospective examination, williout registering the opinion of Jeremy Collier upon the drama. The praise of an enemy. Madam, must be ever valuable. — Collier was our severe accuser, yet he says, ^*^The business of plays, is to commend virtue, and discoun- tenance vice; to shew the uncertainty of human greatness, the sudden turns of fate, and the unhappy conclusions of violence and injustice; 'tis to expose the singularities of pride aud fancy, to make folly and falsehood contemptible, and to bring every thing that is ill under infamy and neglect/' He further says, '^ The wit of man cannot invent any thing more conducive to virtue and destructive of vice than the drama, and I grant the abuse of a thing is no ARGUMENT against the use of it." — -I have kept this by way of a bonne bouche. He was the most formidable of our opponents, and like Prynne^ has furnished 69 the subsequent vain antagonists with food for calumny and aspersion. And now permit me to congratulate you and myself, for having at length waded through this strange medley ; and you will now possibly inquire for the necessity of collecting all these absurdities ? My good Madam, the obliquy thrown upon the stage professors has originated from these extravagant flights. From this source the Romish clergy imbibed the pre- sumptuous audacity to withhold christian interment from actors. From these mouldy documents the puritans pertinaciously and zealously have contended for the demolition of the stage, and the suppression of the drama. — To these antiquated notions I am indebted for slights that disgrace me in my own eyes^ and depreciate me in the estimation of the world. 1 therefore entertain a hope, that by this candid view of the ancient stage, with the minute 70 rxamination into the opinions of its cotoiu- porary accusers^ I shail have fully exposed tlie impropriety of calling* them into decide upon any dispute that may arise^ on this long contended subject^ in the nineteenth century. I likewise wish to lead the con- tendir»g parties to a more rational exercise of their energies^ by urging them to a calm ijiyqstigation of the thing itself, ils merits and its defects ; the good derived, or the evils arising from it3 existence, for the last TWO CENTURIES. If we are to be abused, let me entreat them to exercise their Uigenuity, and fufiiish Us Willi sOul6 novelty in their censures. Do not let us be stunned by the repetition of quotations incapable of application; sentences without sense, and philippics without poignancy. I received much amusement in meeting with an attack upon the stage by a Chinese writer , — with great pleasure and frankness I present it to our English assailants, and hope it will stimulate them to emulation. 71 •^^ Plays are lire-works of wit^ to be viewed only on tlie niglit of leisure. They degrade iind dirty those who let thesii off; they fatigue the delicate eyes of tlie sages; they supply dangerous ruminations to idleness ; they stain the women and the ciiildren wlio approach too often and too near ; they make a smoke and a stink more lasting than the gaiety of their Ughi ; they dazzle but to mislead ; and they often occasion ruinous conflagration! '' This, Madam, is a brilliant display of philosophical fire-works, for the amuse- ment of our friends ! — Its coruscations vvill not be dimmed, nor its figurative excellence be diminished, by ray declaring the Chinese stage is exactly upon a par with the original cart of Thespis, con- structed in the same manner, and degraded by a similar jumble of puerilities, inde- cencies, and improbabilities, the witnessing of which would excite as much indignation ill the breast of a Chinese Confucius^ as it did of old in the bosom of the Athenian Solon. To revert oiice more to the Heathen philosophers and church fathers^ there seems something very unaccountable and perverse in our rigid sectaries^ looking up to them for instruction upon any subject. Why should they require any other guide than that set down and bequeathed to us, by our great master and his disciples ? Why should they, upon every trivial occasion of life^ refer us to the scripture for instruction and infornuiticn^ and yet upon the subject of stage, or no stage, a subject they have themselves magnified, as a matter of the greatest importance ; WHY wish to deprive us of every advantage the gospel may hold forth, and, by col- lecting a heap of rubbish, endeavour to hide it from our view ? 73 What claim to our attention can the Heathen philosophers^, or early christian fathers possess, upon a present speculative point ? — I mean. Madam, it is so far speculative^ that a nation can exist, and probably flourish without a theatre — so it could if deprived of poetry — of painling — of music —of statuary or even of Methodism ! For my own part, the philosophers and fathers I bold !y reject ; I disclaim subjection to their jurisdiction in theatricals, and make my appeal at once to the scripture, the proper guide for christians ! If the practice of the present stage be not at variance with the precepts of our Saviour and his disciples, if that divine record does not positively condemn our pursuits, I shall remain as perfectly indifferent upon this subject, to the opinions of Tertullian and Cyprian, as I should be to the ipse dixit of TOM O^NOKES, or JOHN O'STYLES ! ! I H 74 And noWj Madam^ with every sense of gratitude for your attention and per- severance^ I respectfully take my leave, by subscribing myself, Madam, Your most obedient. Much obliged, humble Servant, Robert ManseL HULLj January, 1814. 75 Father Caffaro.'s Letter UPON THE hawjulness or Unlawfulness of the Stage$ WITH A BRIEF INTRODUCTION. INTRODUCTION. When I had the good fortune to encounter l^'athcr Caffaro's discourse, it struck me as a most suitable* prolegomena to a stage-defence. — I hailed him as a powerful ally — I congratulated myself upon meeting with an ecclesiastic who had undertaken the task of investigating the objections started by the earlier churchmen, and combating them upon their own grounds. I conceive (however the world might despise my feeble efforts, or condemn the liberties I have takea with opinions rendered venerable by antiquity and sacred by prescription) the religious and conscientious would pay some degree of deference to one of their own community. — Nor must my illustrious coadjutor be rejected because he was of a different persuasion to our H2 76 presect adversaries, nor reproached with the terms of Papist and Jesuit to depreciate his randour, industry and information. It was my design (as I have premised} to have made him my introducer to the public, and ^nder his venerable protection, I miglit perhaps have more certainly commanded respect and attention, but Home considerable time having elapsed from the final arrangement of "Free Thoughts," to the period of delivering the work into the hands of my publisher, I bad kisnre, opportunity, and inclination to collect fresh matter, and I was tempted to throw it into th^ form of a prefatory letter, by which means the learned professor is removed from the va?i to the centre, llo therefore (to pursue the metaphor) loses the post of honour, and ray antagonists may take advantage of the Hndisciplined state, and badly marshalled system, evident in the van and rear — but ^,my centre will remain inviolable, and bid defiance to all their arts and all their efforts. Father Caffaro's letter, or rather the translation, is prefixed to a tragedy written by a Mr. Motteuxy called Beauty in Distress, published in the year 169g — It appears the English dramatist was himself labouring under some conscientious scruples, and applied for satisfaction on that head, to a Divine of the Church of England, who favoured him with the folio win ijr answer. 77 To Mr. MOTTEUX, AUTHOR OF THE TRAGEDY CALLED ^' BEAUTY IN DISTRESS/' Concerning the Lawfulness and Unlaw- fulness of Plays, Sir, Since you have been pleased to desire my opinioi^ About the lawfulness or unlawfulness of writing plays for the stage, I shall give it you with all the freedom and impartiality which becomes one of my function. Upon reflecting on the present management of our theatres, on the actions, humours, and characters, which are daily represented there, which are for the most part so lewd and immodest, as to tend very much to the debauching the youth and gentry of our English nation ; I might very well dissuade you from giving any coun- tenance to such unmanly practices, by offering any of your works to the service of ^the stage. But though theatrical representations are become an ofience and scandal io most, yet I am not of their H5 78 Blind, who think plays are absolutely unlawful, and the best way to reform is wholly to suppress them; for certainly tiiey might be of very great use not ONLY for THEDITERSION AND PLEASURE, BUT ALSO FOR THE CORRECTION AND INFORMATION OF MANKIND. It is no crime to eat or drink, but the sin lies in the excessive and immoderate use, or rather abuse of those things, which we either eat or drink; the case is much the same with plays. In their own nature they are innocent and harmless diversions ; but then indeed they become sinful and unlawful, to be made, acted, or seen, when they transgress the bounds of virtue and religion : shock our nature ; put our modesty to the blush ; Imprint nauseous and unbecoming images on our minds; and, in a word, when they are such as are a scandal to the author, and an offence to the audience. I am not willing to believe so hardly of the age Cthaugh it is bad enough of all conscience) but that most of the persons who frequent the theatres would be as well pleased to see a play of decorum and modesty acted, as they would be to see a lewd and atheistical comedy. It is uponthis consideration that I am willing to encourage you in four design of writing plays for the sfage ; for you ijavc too much prudence, honour and conscience, to siiljject the sacred nine to base and servile ends. It is to be hoped, that such as you may be a means of 79 reforming the abuses of the stage, and of shewing the world that a poet may be a man of sense and parts, without renouncing his virtue. I shall not trouble you at present with any farther thoughts of my own, but will give you the sentiments of a very judicious divine upon this subject. It seems he was consulted by a gentleman, whether plays were lawful or not, and whether he might in conscience exercise his parts that way ? to this the divine replies, shewing how far plays are lawful and necessary, and when they become unlawful and sinful : the resolutions of these will, I trust, come up to your purpose. By this judicious dissertation, you will find your whole desire satisfied. — You will perceive he has brought the schoolmen to speak in favour of the Drama, and has explained the invectives of the fathers against if, so as to make them on its side. He has answered the most material objections which can be brought against the stage, and given very necessary precautions to such as go to the play-houses. — You will perceive he is a French divine, (Father Caffaro, brother to the Duke of ) one of the Romish religion, who has given us his thoughts in the form of a letter; and it is in behalf of the plays acted in France that he argues. But were he to see our English stage, he would ncyer 80 Fay such fine things of it ; unless he saw it stoclud only with plays and entertainments innocently diverting and strictly moral, as those uhich you hare hitherto so successfully published, are generally allowed to be. JVjth a compliment to Mr. Moitcux upon his " Beauty ix Distress," which it tsould be supcrfiuous transcribing, his reyerence subscribes himself, Sir, Your real friend to serve you, 1697—8. This tragedy is likewise honoured by some of Mr. Dryden's lines to the author being affixed to the piece. Their application comes so immediately home to the views of the present opposers of dramatic amusement, that J. cannot resist ray wish to give them a place, previous to entering upon the learned Father's discourse, TO MY FRIEND THE AUTHOR. 'Tis hard, my friend, to write in such an age, As damns not only poets, but the stage. That sacred art, by Heav'n itself infus'd, Which Moses, David, Solomon have us'd. Is now to be no more : The muses foes Would sink their Maker's praises into prose. 81 Were ihcy content to prune the }a?is v nc Of strangling brandies, and improve the wiue, Who but a madman would his faults defend? All would submit, for all but fools would mend. But, when to common sense, they give tlie lie, And turn distorted words to blasphemy, Thet/ give the scandal; and the wise discern. Their glosses teach an age too apt to learn. What I have loosely or profanely writ, Let them to fires (their due desert) commit. Nor when accus'd by me, let thern complain : Their faults, and not their functions, I arraign, llebcliion, worse than witchcraft, they pursu'd; The pulpit preach'd the crime: the people rn'd. The stage was silenc'd : for the saints vtould seb I»f FIELDS PERFORMED THEIR PLOTTED TRAGEDY. But let US first reform : and then so live. That we may teach our teachers to forgive, Our desk be plac'd below their lofty chairs^ Our's be the practice, as the precept theirs. The moral part at least we may divide, Humility reward, and punish pride: Ambition, int'resl, avarice accuse: V These form the province of the tragic raase. There arc upwards of twenty lines following these, (highly flattering to the poetical character of Mr. Mottcux; but as he has not had the good fortune to survive the sweeping influence of two centuries) it would only be trespassing on the reader's time and indulgence by making the addition. 82 Father Caffaro ha-viug quoted only three texts applied by the opponents of the drama against the use of the stage, Tiz. Isaiah c. 3. t. 16^ 17. I. Cor. c. 10. T. 7. I. Thes, c. 5. t. 22. — I am compelled by candour, a love of truth, and the strong desire of having the question tried upon scriptural ground, to add those texts I have met with in various authors "vvho have written upon this subject. Proverbs c. 23. v. 1. Matt. c. 5. v. 28. Luke, c. 8. v. 14. John, c. 2. T. 16. Rom. c. 13. V. 13, 14. Gal. c. 5. v. 16. Eph. c. 5. V. 4. Col. c. 3. V. 2, 3, 5, 8.— c. 4. v. 6. I. Tim. c. 2. V. 5, 6, 9. II. Tim. c. 2. v. 3, 4. Titus c. 3. V. 3. James, [c. 4. v. 3. I. Pet. c. 1. v^ 17. — e. 5. V. 8. I have myself diligently sought after, and attentively perused those several passages ; but such is my blindness, ignorance, or stupidity, I cannot for the life of me discover the smallest affinity between the different verses and the thing under reprobation. However, conviction being my object, I shall ever consider myself indebted to that man who will prove, to my satisfaction, the propriety of applying them to the condemnation of the drama^ S3 A JLETTEIR, FROM THE Learned Father CAFFARO, Professor of Dlvinily in Parls^ TO A DRAMxiTIC WRITER, Who had, from conscientious scruples, consulted the Reverend Divine, upon the Lawfulness or Unlawfulness of Writing for the Stage: WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 16 . ^ Sir, I HAVE avoided as much as I could, giving you my opinion in writing, about plays, considering the delicacy of the subject, and my own incapacity. But since yoi^ press me still to cure you of that scrupulous fear which lies upon your mind, I must pass over those two difficulties, choosing rather to expose myself on your account, than not to ease you of your doubts. In truth. Sir, the more I examine 'the holy fathers, the more I read the 84 iliviiies, :ind consult the casuisis, the less able I find myself to determine any tbiii"- in this matter. I liad no sooner found soinetliiiig in favour of the Drama an'ong (lie schoolmen, who are almost ALL OF THEM FOR ALLOWING IT, l)Ut I pcrceivcd myself surrounded vviili al/Undance of pass^jges out of the Councils, and t!ie Fathers, who have ail of them decl'iUcd agaiiist public shows* — This question would have been soon determined, if tlie IIOLY ScniPTURE HAD SAID ANY THI^G ABOUT ii. But, as Tertullian very well observes, '' We no where find that we are as expressly forbidden in scripture to go to the circus and theatre, to see tlie fightings of gladiators, or be assisting in any show, as we arc forbid to worship idols, or the being guilty of murder, treaijon, and adultery." If you read THE SCRIPTURES OVER AND OVER, YOU WILL NEVER MEET WITH ANY EXPRESS AND PARTI- CULAR PRECEPT AGAINST PLAYS. The fatlicrs assert, that we cannot in conscience be any ways assisting to the drama. The schoolmen maintain the contrary : let us therefore endeavour to make use of >St. Cyprian's rule, who says, i/iai reason is to be heard, where IloJy Writ is silent; and Ictus try to reconcile the conclusions of the divines, with the determinatiou of the fathers of the church. But because it is a very delicate point, and the question consists in reconciling them together, I will not * Vide Introductory letter, page 37—53. '85 advance any fhins!: of my own sentiments, but bring St, T/tonnis Jquinns to speak for me; wlio beiiif^ on one side a religious father, and lioly doctor of the cliiirch ; and, on the other side, the angel of the school, the master and head of all the divines, he seems to me the most proper of any to reconcile the disagreeing opinions oi both parties. In the second n^;nt of liis " Summs," amon<^ otliers, lie starts this question : *' What ought we to think of sports anil diversions P" And he returns an answer to himself, that provided they are mode- rate, tliey are not only free iVom sin, but in some measure good, and conformable to that virtue, which Aristotle stiles Eulrape/ia, whose business it is to set jnst bonnds to our plei'sures. The reason which he alledges for it is this: A man being fatigued by the serious actions of life ^ requires an agreea- ble refreshment^ zohich he can find no where so well as in plays : and to support his opinion, he quotes St. Augustin, who says, " I would have " you take care of yonrself, for it is the part of a " wise man, sometimes to unbend his mind, which *' is too intent upon his business." *' Now, (continues St. Thomas) how can this " relaxation of the mind be effected, if not by " diverting words or actions ? 'Tis not therefore ** sinful, or unbecoming a wise and virtuous man, *^ to allow himself some innocent pleasures.^'— I 86 Aquinas even accounts it a sin to refrain from diversion; — "Because wliatever is contrary to " reason is vicious; now it is contrary io reason '* that a man sliouki be so unsociable and hard upon *' others as to oppose their innocent pleasures, never ^' to bear a part in their diversions, or contribute *' to them by his words or actions. Therefore *' Seneca very justly and reasonably snys ; — ' Let *f your conversation be so tempered with prudence *^ and discretion, tliat none may charge you with *' being sullen, or despise you as one unfit for social *^ conversation : for it is a vice to quarrel with all ** mankind, and thus to be iniputed a morose and ** savas^e creature." It is easy to determine, that the Fatlier compre- hends the stage under the general term of recrea- tions, by his recommending agreeable words and actions for the relaxation of the mind. — This is the peculiar province of plays, beifig conqx)sed of wit and action, such as produce delight, and recreate the mind. I do not think you will find in any other diversion words and actions thus combined together. But let us attend once more to this great scholar, *^ It seems (says he) as if these players who spend *' their whole lives on the stage, did transgress the '' bounds of innocent diversion. If then excessive " diversions be a sin (as indubitably it is) the players *' are in a state of sin : and so likewise are all those 87 \ ' who assist at stage reprrseiitations, and tliey who ' jLJ^ive anything (o thorn are abettors of their sin. — * Yet this appears false, for we read in tlie lives of * the fathers, tiiat one day it Mas revealed to St. * Papluiuthis, that in the other life he should not ^ arrive to ia higher degree of glory than a certain ' player." If this objection, started by St. Thomas, appears too strong, his answer is at once satisfactory, delicate, and solid. " Diversion (adds the Doctor) being ' necessary for the comfort of human life, we may ' appoint several employments for this end wliich ' are lawful. Thus the employment of players ' being established to afford men an lionest ' recreation, has nothing in it, in my mind, which ' deserves to be prohibited ; and I do not look upon ' them to be in a state of sin, provided they make * use of this sort of recreation with moderation; ^ neither speaking nor acting any thing which is ^unlawful; mixing nothing that is sacred with ' profime ; and never acting in a prohibited time. ' And though they may have no other employment ' of life, like other men, yet between them and ' their God, tliey have often very serious employ- ' ments — such as when they pray to their maker, govern their passions, and give alms to the poor. — From hence I conclude, that those who in moderation pay or assist them, are guilty of no sin, but do an act of justice, since they only give 12 c c 88 ^^ them tht reward of their labour. But i( any one " shoiikl squander his whole estate upon thi'in, or *** countenance players Avho act after a scandalous *' and unLawiu! way, I make no question but tliitt ** he sins, and ithdrew, timt he might not by his presence hinder that which was so cus- tomary*. Seneca gives us the same account of CalOy and commends him for liis being unwilling to see tliose debauched women naked. I dare not repeat to you the words of hnmpridius^ because they are too gross, when lie says that the EmyicroY II eHo^abalusy who in a play represented Venus, shewed himself in a complete state of nudity, with the most impu- dent intrepidity of assurance. We also find that the public shows of the ancients were as dread- fully impious as they were immoral. " There," 8ays St. Chrysostom, " they blaspheme the name of *' God, and no sooner have the players vented a ** blasphemous expression, but a loud applause <* follows. This is what obliged the third council ** of Carthage, by a canon, to condemn, players as ** blasphemers: let not the Laicks themselves be *' present at the shows, for it has been always '' unlawful for any christian to go into the company '^ of blasphemerst." * This refers entirely to all sorts of Ludi Scenici, The Mimi, Pantoniimi and ^4rchhnfmt\ but reflects no more dis' credit upon the Histriones^ than the huinoursof PuNce, or the buffoonery of a clovrn to a horse ring, mililale against the refined wit of polished comedy. R. M. i This corroborates x^hnf 1 have staled in my '* Fi^fe Ta»JVJ(iHT«;s" that the early i>'STRrcT0R6 in christianitv 95 Now who would not cry down the stngo, if it M'eri> so fiiU of immorality and profariencss ? I'herc is no need of beini^ one of the fathers, tfie liij!;h( of nature is sufiicient to condemn so i^ri'ut an excess. Thus we read in St. Chrysostom, " That certain '' Barbarians Iiaving heard of those thealrnl " plays, expressed themselves in those terms wordjy *' of the greatest plillosophers.— " It is (it that the " Romans, when they invented this kin(| of pleasure, "should be looked upon as persons who had ," neither wives nor children'." And Alcibiades, amonir other things, is commended for having cast a certain comedian, named Eupolis, into the sea, for being so impudent as to repeat some infamous verses in his presence*; adding at his punishment this expression. " Thou hast plunged me often into '' the debauclieries of the stage, and for once 1 will " plunge thee iiito the depths of the sea." iisetl [ufreqiitnt the theatre. Why should Chrysostom say, let not the Laicks tiiemsflves, &c. if it did not imply that ill liis lime the ci.f.rgy had deviated from their fathers, and abuuloiied the dramatic amusement. Sec in " Free Thouj;hts" the account of St. Paul at l^jihesus. K. M. * Had Alcibiades existed in our days, and posse»siag all his aflmiruble propensities; no comedian of repute would honour him with a reading. It was pro!)ablv some wretch worthless as himself — only what the General wanted in virtue, he made up by power.— So much for the pupil of Socrates. K. M. 96 Yoli may easily perceive, Sir, ihut all tliosc jinss;ig('s out of tlie talliers, and a thousand otliers uliicli I C(,nKi produce^ out of tliem noainst tbestage- plajs, prove nothing against the drama as it now stands in France. It would be super/iuons to make Ji conip-nison between tlie one and the other: I desire that you would only take notice that far from weakening the doctrine of St, T/ioinas^ all that has been liitherto alleged serves only io strengthen it ; for it is only against the excess of the stage tliat the fatliers appeared so zealous, whereas if they had found it divested of those unhappy circumstances Avhich then attended it, they would have ix^wi of St. T!it)mas's opinion, and at least have looked upon it as indifferent* I thought proper to relate all this to you before I ventured my own thoughts upon the subject; and upon those indisputable principles which 1 have laid down, I atrirm, that in my judgjuent, plays, in their own nature and taken in themselves, inde- pendent from any other circumstance, whether good or bad, ought to be reckoned among the number of things purely indilierent. Upon due examination you will find it to be the opinion even of Tcrtullian and St. Cyprian, the two who seem to declaim most against the drama. To begin with TertulUan, at the same time that he abominates the infamy of public shows he starts 97 this objection to liisnself: — " God has made all *•' things, and given them to men, and consequently ^* they are all good, such as the circus, lions, *' voices, &c. What then makes tlie use of tlieni *' unlawful ?" To this he answers, " That it is true " all tilings were instituted by God, but that they ^' were corrupted by the evil spirit : that iron for " instance, is as much God's creature as plants and *' angels : that nolwitlistanding this, God did not *' make these creatures to be instruments of murder, '* poison, and magic, though men by tlieir wicked- " ness deprave them to those uses; and that what " renders a great many things evil, which in their '' own nature are indifferent, is not their institution " but corruption." From hence, if we apply this way of arguing to public shows, it follows, tliat considered in their own nature, they are as harmless as angels, plants, and iron; but that it is the evil spirit that has changed, perverted, and spoiled them. You see then that Tertuliian has reckoned stage-plays among indifferent actions, and what he condemns in them is only the excess. St. Cyprian, speaking of David's dancing before the Ark, owns that tliere is no harm in dancins: or smgmg, " but yet, ' says he, " this is no excuse for *^ christians who are present at those lascivious dances, "and impure songs, which are hi honour of idols." Whence it is easy for us to infer, that this lioly doctor docs not absolutely condemn dancing, singing-, K 98 operas and comedies, but only tliose shows that represented fables after the lascivious manner of the Greeks and Romans, and which were celebrated in honour of Idols. This is likewise St. Bonaventure's opinion, who says expressly, " That shows are *' good and lawful, if they are attended with *' necessary precautions and circumstances." His master, the great Albertus, taught him tliis doctrine : and the words which I met with upon this subject in St. Antonius, Archbishop of Florence, are so pertinent that I cannot forbear inserting them here. *' The profession of a comedian, because it is useful *' for the diversion of men, which is requisite, is '' not forbidden in its own nature : from whence it " follows, that it is no less lawful to get one's ^' livelihood by this art, &c." And in another place he snys, " Comedy is a mixture of pleasant '' speeches and actions, for the diversion of a man's *' self, or for that of another, if nothing is mixed " in it either unbecoming or an affront to God, or " prejudicial to one's neighbour, it is an effect of '• that virtue which is called Eutrapclla; for the '* mind which is fatigued by internal cares, as the " body is by external labour, has as much need of *' repose as the body has of nourishment. This <^ repose is procured by those kind of diverting " speeches and actions which are called plays." Can any thing. Sir, be said of greater weight in favour of comedy ? Yet he who says it, is a man of undoubted sanctity. How comes it to pass that 99 he does not declaim against it, as the ancients did ? It is because tlic drama grows more correct and perfect every day , and I have observed, in READING THE HOLY FATHERS, THAT THE NEARER THEY COME TO OUR TIMES, THE MOR« FAVOURABLE THEY ARE TO PLAYS, BECAUSE THE STAGE WAS NOT SO LICENTIOUS AS BEFORE'*. Thus likewise we see, that it is not prohibited by the saint of our times ; the great Francis de Sales, who might, without dispute, serve as a pattern to all directors. — And Fontana de Ferrara^ in his " Institutes," relates that the pious saint, Charles Borromeusy allowed stage-plays in his diocess by an order in the year 1583, yet upon condition that before they were acted they should be revised and licensed by his grand Vicar, for fear any tiling which is immodest should be in them. Tins pious and learned cardinal did then allow of modest comedies, and condemned only the immodest and profane, as appears by the third council which he held at Milan, in the year 1572. Independent of this multitude of testimonies, which are in my favour, I might likewise form a strong proof taken from the words and practice of * 1 wish our modern correctors would beat the trouble of consulting all the fathers ; — but I presume they slop at the verj period vihen the others become liberal. R. ^, K2 100 the holy Father's in general, and observe that those >vho have cried out so loudly against the stage, have been as violent in declainiing against playing at cards, dice, &c. They have inveighed against banquets and feasts, against luxury and gaudy dresses, lofty buildings, magnificent houses, rich furniture, rare painting, &c. &c.* St. Chrysostom has whole homilies upon this subject: \vc find a particular catalogue of them in the Pedagogue of St. Clement Alexandrinus, St. Augustin treats very largely of them in most of his works, and * The plausible declamations of some of the evangelical jparly, against the expence of a theatrical establishment, are truly ridiculous. Some will exclaim against the money appropriated to that use, aftirming that it would be better applied if granted to a charitable institution. Others dwell upon the absurdity of gratifying imaginary pleasures, when real enjoyment could be so well purchased by furnishingBibles and Missionaries for our modern crusades. Yet 1 hava Itnown several of those liberal, considerate gentlemen, con- tentedly enjoying from five hundred lo two thousand a year. And what is very extraordinary, not one of them seemed to think his income more than sufficient for his own immediate wants. I believe it to be a rare instance, their refusing another living, or an estate, upon the plea that the one they possessed was more than sufficient to satisfy the real demands of nature. Let all the rich shake off the superfiux of wealth, for the relief of the mendicant, and who would not be a beggar ? R. M. 101 particularly in his letter to Possidonius, St. Cyprian quoted both by St. Augustin, St. Gregory, — in short all the fathers have warmly declaimed against the luxury and richness of apparel ; sometimes exciting us to follow the example of St. John the Baptist, who, for tlie austerity of his life, was so highly commended by our Saviour. And yet we find that they did not raise so many doubts of conscience in men's minds upon this score, as they did upon the account of stage-plays ; and none made a scruple either of wearing habits suitable to their quality, nor of living at ease, provided they did it within the compass of modesty and moderation. AVhy then should we not extend this indulgence to the drama, and affirm, that the reproaches of the doctors of the church are applicable to luxury, intemperance and prodigality, but not to the innocent .and moderate use of the good things of this life. So we may interpret their words of immoral and profane plays, but not of those tliat do not transgress the rules of prudence and morality, ^' To prove," says Albertus Magnus^ ^^ that *^ the scripture does not condemn plays, dancing *' and shows, considered singly, and without those ^' oiFensive circumstances which make them con- '' damnable, do not we read in Exodus, That " Miriam the Prophetess^ the sister of Aaroriy *' took a timbrel in her hand^ and all the women weni K3 102 *' out after her with timbrels and zoith dancing ? « Ex. \b^ 20. Does not the Royal Prophet (PsaL *' 68, 25 — 27) say That Benjamin was among *' the damsels who plai/ed with timbrels ? — Nay, ^' does not God himself, by the moutli of Jeremiah, *' Chap. 31, V. 4, promise the Jews, that upon *' their return from Chaldee, they should play upon ^' timbrels, and go forth in the dances of them that ** make merry ?* Therefore dances and pleasures *^ are not in themselves sinful, or unlawful, but ^' made so by the criminal circumstances added to *' them : and I would not enjoin a penitent to ^' abstain from them, since God himself not only '* permits, but promises them." And indeed, take away the excess which may possibly cre<^ into dramatic representations, and I know no harm in them : for it is a kind of speaking picture, "wherein are represented histories or fables, for the diversion, and very often for the instruction of men. ■* To these instances might have been added, the parable «f •* The Prodigal Son." And they began to be merry. WoiKJ his elder son was in the fields, and as he came and drew nigh to the housCf he heard music and dancing. Luke 16. V. 24—25. This little DRAMA, delivered by our blessed Saviour, cvidentlj proves he did not object to mirth and music. 11. M. 103 Hillierto we find notliing amiss in the design of the stage ; but perhaps its enemies will object, that it must needs be bad, however, because it is prohibited. I protest, Sir, I never yet thouglittlie proliibition of any thing made it sinful, but on the contrary, the viciousness of it made it to be prohibited. But let us consult those places of scripture which seem to forbid plays, and such like exiiibitions, and try to explain them, not as we please, but by the words of the greatest Doctors. Albertus Magnus^ who has collected all those passages, shall give us the explanation of them. The first* which he mentions is that of St. Paul, fvho seems to reduce all those sports to immodesty ; for the Apostle, exhorting men to avoid that sin, expresses himself thus, 1. Cor. 10, as some of them fell into impurity, of whom it is written, The people sat dowii to eat and drink, and rose up to playj^ The second is taken out of Exodus+, Chap. 32, where we find that dances were first invented before idols ; and by this they prove that it is an idolatrous institution, to excite men to impurity. The third is that of Isaiah, Chap. 3. who in the name of God denounces great threatenings against those Vide p. 8, 9. t Vide p. 82. 104 kind of sports : Because the daughters of Zion are haughty^ and walk forth with sir etched forth necks and wanton eyes^ walking and tripping as ihey go and making a tinkling with their feet; therefore the Ijord will smite with a scab the crown of the head of the daughters of Zion, S^c, And lastly, it is pretended that St. Paul includes all public sights in those famous words (I. Thess. 5, 22,) Abstain from all appearance of evil. But Albertus Magnus, to all those passages, tluis replies. " That '' dancing, &c. though not in their own nature evil, " may become so by being attended with those '' unhappy circumstances which St. Paul is to bs " understood to speak of.— -That it is false to assert '' that the Jews never danced but before idols. It •' has been done upon other occasions ; witness *' Miriam the sister of Moses and Aaron ^ whom we *' formerly mentioned. God reproves by the '' mouth of his prophet, only tliose iinpudent " ffcstures with which the dances of the Jews were '^ sometimes attended. And lastly, That St. Paul *' forbids the appearance of real exil^ and not of *' that Avhich may become so by accident and *^ untoward circumstances.'' But you will say, if plays are good in themselves, why are the actors of them noted \vit]> infamy in Justinian'' s "- Institutes" Pray let mc ask you a question or two, Does that soldier si»! who runs away in battle for iear cf being kiUcd ? or docs 105 a young widow, wlio cannot live single, commit a mortal sin by marrying a second husband before her year is up ? Yet the same book brands both of them with infamy, and a tliousand other persons whose actions are not criminal. It is tlicrefore a very weak consequence to prove the sinfulness of an action because it is noted as infamous. Suppose it true that the players become infamous by acting on the stage, I would fain know why the youth of the universities, and other persons, very prudent, and sometimes of the best quality, who, for their own diversion, and without scandal, act parts in a play, are not as infamous as the common players ?* I hope none will say, it is because the latter act to get by it, whereas the others do it for diversion, for that is a very wretched argument. Suppose any action to be evil in itself, what signifies whether a man gets by it or not ? It will still be evil, and no circumstance can alter its nature. — For as a perjured man, or a calumniator, * We must bear in remembrance that Father Caffaro lived and wrote iu France, where the profession of an actor was considered so offensive, as even to deprive him of the rites of christian burial. Under our happy government and tolerant ecclesiastical establishment, we know no such absurd, degrading^, invidious distinctions. If indeed a certain sect was paramount, the plajers would then be persecuted while living, and when dead, their " monumenta would be the maws of Kites." R. M. 106 branded with infamy by the hiw, -svill be always infamous, let tliem be in what circumstances soever, so plays cannot be represented upon any occasion or motive whatever, without incurring the stain of infamy which you say is cast upon it, But to understand the meaning of the laws, it is requisite to have recourse to those Doctors who have expounded them. Pray see what tlie famous Baldus says on this subject, '* The players who *' act in a modest way, either to divert themselves *' or please others, and who commit nothing against " good-manners, are not to be reputed infamous.'* You perceive then, according to this commentator, that the infamy falls only on those who act infamous plays. Since time changes every thing, rational men will j« Ige the subject as it is, not as it was. Were not the physicians turned out of Rome as infamous persons ?* And in the esteem tliey are now held, is tliere the least mark of their infamy left ? Why then should any reflection remain to stigmatize a laudable and ingenious profession, whicli in France (and perhaps elsewhere) is become rather the school of virtue than that of vice ? The reason why players formerly were declared infamous, was from the infamy so predominant in the plays which they * Vido " FuEE TnouGors," 107 aricf and painted canvas, induce the heedless and thoughtless to ponder on the serious moral of a pious ♦Whether this extraordinary victim to misery, suffering, and punishment, was real!} an inhabitant of this earth, or only created out of the poet's imagination, is a point still in suspense with the various commentators on the Bible. Many of them consider the book of Job, in the light of a drama; and frotn the superior excellence of the moral, consistency of the characters, sublimity of thought, and simplicity of stile, it evinces strong evidence of emanating from the first order of genius. Some of the interpreters and expounders of scripture, have, with a great degree of seeming probability, attributed its composition to Moses, Shrink ye not, fanatics, at the profanation — whatl — the sacred law-giver a dramatist ! — Be not alarmed; could we give you many such specimens of sublimity and dignity- mole-eyed and beetle-headed as ye are, the Drama must have commanded your approbation and support, and per- haps been as ranch an object of your idolatry as it is now of your hatred. — Ye know no medium. + And they began to be merry. Now his elder son was in the field, and as he came and drew nigh to the house, be beard music and dancing. Luke c. XV. V. 24, 25» 142 resigimtion to the dispensations of providence, you would be doing society at large a singular service. If tlie beverage be wliolcsome, never hesitate tasting, because the cup is embossed. I have not the most distant wish for the stage to intrench upon tlie duties of the pulpit ; still further from my thoughts, be every intention of disrespect to the clergy. Nor would 1 presume to raise my profession at the expense of a body, whose sacred function entitles it to the reverence and esteem of all the virtuous. Men, who by the aid of the gospel, can give eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, health to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant, comfort to the afflicted, and happiness to all. The advo- cates at the throne of mercy, the pleaders to divine grace, for the frailties, errors, and imperfections of their wretched fellow-creatures. But let the drama second the efforts of tlie pulpit, and though an humble assistant, it will be found capable of being made an active and powerful ally in the great cause of virtue. Many blend the improprieties of the stage with the thing itself, and, because there is an exuberance, the whole must be extirpated. If the objection depended merely upon the improprieties of the stage, with pleasure would I give my feeble aid to the exposure of them, loudly would I raise my voice for the extinction of them, and gladly would I 143 immolate at the shrine of ofFcnded decency, every line repugnant to modesty, morality and virtue. The sta^e, if left to its ov/n bins, nmst ever fall in with the predominant taste of i(s admirers, but properly governed, it will become a gukle instead of a follower^ and act as a firm opposer to every improper public feeling and sentiment. The drama participates strongly in tlie genius it emanates from, and is supported by — poesy. It therefore loves with fervour, and hates with energy. The tender husband, the affectionate wife, the rational parent, the dutiful child, the constant lover, tlie mild prince, the loyal subject, the pious priest ; in sliort, tlie truly good, religious, moral, and vir- tuous, are the objects of its warmest attachment; it decks them out in tlieir own native beauteous colours, sounds forth their praise, arid cherislies them as its most darling favourites. But, woe! woe ! woe ! to their opposites ! The jealous husband, the inconstant wife, the cruel father, the abandoned son, the perjured lover, the tyrannical prince, the revolting subject, the Iiypocritical priest, ail become loathsome, and it punishes them to the utmost extent of poetical It was with extreme regret I read Miss Baillie's objection to fashionable comedy, upon the plea of its encouraging disrespect to parents, and weakening the ties of lilial obedience. 8]ie sajs, " The moral '' tendency of it is very faulty: that mockery of '^ age and domestic aulhority, so constantly held '' forth, has a very bad efTect npon the younger part ^^ of an audience." — With all possible ileference to Miss Baiilie, J cannot but consider this objection inadmissible. F'ooli'^h, weak and wicked parents are held up to derision and contemjit ; and so are obstinate, perverse and wilful chikben, They are equally injurious to the well-being of society, and therefore fair objects for satire. Nor can I conceive the claims of the parents to 'exemption ; on the contrary, I think they more richly merit exposure and reprobation : for the follies and aberrations of the children are, too frequently, the consequence of the vices and v, eaknesses of those beings who expect reverence and esteem in exchange for imbecility and vice. Aftection, respect and attention to virtuous parents, can be no where more strongly enforced than on the stage : in fact, it is one of tlie most imperious ties implanted in the human breast: it would be, therefore, strange indeed, if the dramatic writers, of all others, would not avail themselves of a prifieiple capable of producing eliect, interest and sympathy. I scarcely remember a play where the filial and parental ties (with the above exceptions) are not placed in the most amiable point of view. If there are harsh, tyrannical, passionate, unreasonable, selfish, cruclj 143 parents in nature. Why should the mere honout of giving life to their oppressed offspring, shelter them from the indignation of the satirist, or protect them from the punishment clue to their errors and absurdities? plays would indeed be culpable, if they were to be swayed by such incongruous par- tialities. The respect for nge, and the veneration for parents, so strongly inculcated and elucidated by numerous instances iu (he page of history, did not originate in the mere name of sire, or the appear^ ance of silvered age; but, from the wisdom, virtue, and propriety of the seniors*. * " If many bojs are by the original energy of nature, ** and the gracious discipline of providence, enabled to " outgrow the futile habits of their early years; no thanks " to those WICKED or foolish parents, who did every thin^ " to spoil them. Ah, ye mothers of Britain, what a mighty *' task is yours! Of what superlative importance to the <' happiness of mankind ! How much have those of you io " answer for, whose fantastic fondness has, from the very ** days in which you ought to have laid the foundation of *• virtue and glory, entailed corruption and dishonour on f your offspring. How different from the mothers of ** antiquity, who, having bred their sons to every thing ♦* manly and heroic, were accustomed when they went out ** to fight for their country, — (that great predominating ** object to which all others gave way in their affections,)— *' to charge them either to come back victorious, or io be ** brought back dead, chusing rather that they should not *' live than live in shame." Fordyce's Addresses to Young Mea. o 146 That the stage has defects, loud, crying defects, I am willing to acknowledge, but tliej are only excrescences, they disgrace the trunk, but tliey cannot vitiate it ! It has sufficient strength to permit their eradication, and flourish with len-fold vigour! But I trust it will be in my power to piove, that even in its present state, it is not composed of the deleterious qualities which bigotry, fanaticism, and ignorance, would endeavour to persuade us it is. I deem a review of the lives of its principal professors to be a fair and justifiable mode of proving its tendency to morality, or its inclination to impu- rity. If the stage tends to corrupt and debase a nation, the players must, of all people, be the most depraved and infamous! Probably you will say, '' That the agent merely administering poison, feels noneof the effects." True — but if he be obliged to swallow his share of the baneful dose, he must participate in the fatal consequences. Let us com- mence our review, at the period when our stage was emerging from barbarism, when it hadsliakenofF the impieties of " the mysteries," the absurdities of " THE moralities;" when, like a summer's morn, preparing for the glorious effulgence of the sun, it dawned for the appearance of our great theatrical luminary ! Still the theatre (if it might so be called) ■was even then in a most abject, a most degraded abasement. Not a single dramatic piece, produced previous to Shakespeare's plays, holds a situation 147 upon tlic present existing stage; — they are only to be found in the libraries of the curious*. All tlie inference to be drawn from the depression of the stage, at the period 1 have nncntioncd — is — that poverty and infamy compose a fruitful soil for the nourishment of every vice ! To a society, in this despicable state, the young, the thouglitless Shake- speare, flew for shelter. An outcast from his country, branded witli tlieft, and armed wi(h graceless audacity to ridicule the magistrate whom he had injured ; thrown upon the world without a friend or adviser; from this debased body he courted support ! — To this sink he flew for refuge ! AVhata sanctuary for a being of his description! — What a seminary for the improvement of his talents! — With such an auxiliary, possessing such, wonderful endowments, such abandoned propen- sities, what were (he players not capable of eflccting in tlie cause of vice? Did they employ their new ally, their powerful agent, in the subversion ot virtue, the corruption of morality, the degradation of religion ? Let applauding millions answer, an admiring world reply! His future progress unblemished! — His character unsullied ! — His death * One of the first regular comedies extant, in the English language, " Gammer Gurton's Needle," was written by a clergyman, Dr. Still, successively master of St. John's and Trinity Colleges, Cambridge, and afterwards Bishop of JBatfi and Wells. 02 us a nation's loss! — His life a iiallon's pride! — His <^rave marked bj malice, as one of (be few spots, where she can gaifi no footing"*! — Ilis meuiory and liis Vvorks can only perish, wlien ** The cloud-capt towers, the gorg;eo'js palaces, •♦ Tiie solemn temples — the great glohc itself — ** Yea all which it inherit shall dissolve, *' And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, " Leave not a "vvreck behind I" Many of bis dramatic contemporaries have been handed down to posterity, marked Avilb some pleasing trait, reflectino^ credit on their different cliaracters. One of his brother comedians and particular friends, AUeyn, founded a college at Dulwich, for the relief of a certain number of old persons, where, to this day, age and poverty return thanks io Iicaven for ease and comfort, through the benevolence of a profane stage-plarer. From * A modern vandal has had the impudent assurance fo stigmatise him as a libertine; and asks with iinparelled effrontery. " What loss could society possibly have " experienced, if the bard had never been called into "existence?" When I first read this vamper of Collier — this furbisher up of old weapons, from the armoury of puri- tanical anti-stagers ; I felt inclined to follow him through all his glaring absurdities, and, by exposing thefti, have left him to the contempt he deserves! But, upon mature reilection, I found it would only have been giving substance to a shadow, locality to nothing, consequence lo iusignifi- cance and fuel to the flame of vanity! 149 the Sfiakespcrian band, pass on to the company having possession of the theatre in the time of Charles J.* At the conclusion of this reign, the actors were thrown into a dilemma which completely put to the test their moral conduct. Suddenly bereft of their support, by the convulsions of the times — deprived of the protection of their patrons — persecuted by fanaticism — and anathematised by hypocrisy — they retained, not only their probity unshaken, but many of them had courage and * " It was in the time cff Charles, Prynne (that most " violent puritan) wrote a book against actors, called, *' ' HisTRioMATix; or THE Play ERs ScouRGE.' lo which " he employs a world of learning to shew the injury they " do; and he has been at the pains to look over one Ihou- ** sand authors on the subject, and prove that in two thou- ♦* sand years, a great number of writers expressed their *' disgust at seeiiipj men upon the stage in women's cloaths, *' for it was not then customary for any woman to appear •' in ch;iracter. This furious republican, who, by his *' writings, contributed more than any other man, to the " destruction of the monarchy, and the death of the king, " after having lost his ears in the pillory for wriling this ** very book, became as violent for the restoration ; but " what a world of mischief and blood-shed did he not occa- ** sion in the mean tmie. As a true lover of my country, *' and its establishment in church and state, 1 cannot help •♦ censidcrin^ these attacks upon the stage, by the evange- *' lical and modern puritans, as tending to the same end. •' it behoves the legislature to look to liic consequence." D'ISRAELl's CaLANATI£S OF AUTHORS. OS 150 resolution to preserve, and manifest tlieir loyalty by fighting under the banners of their lawful sovereign. In the new plays produced immedi- ately after the restoration, the dramatis personje points out the rank held by two of them ; Major Mohun and Captain Hart. Through the corrupt and dissipated reign of Charles II.* notwithstanding the stage participated strongly in the language and manners of the licentious court, we find nothing stated of the pla^^ers being pre-e?mnent/^ debiinchcdy or setting the example, in their own persons, of the reprehensible voluptuousness of the time ! On the contrary, Betterton (who lived to a very great age) is immortalised by the polished praise of Sir Eichard Steele classical genius^ embalming perishable talent ! *• For he who struts his hour upon the stage, •• Can scarce extend his fame for half an age ; ** Nor pen, nor pencil, can the actor save, •' But art and artist meet one common grave." An anonymous writer, after having given a most amiable picture of this highly esteemed performer, * It is worthy of remark, that during the long reign of €harles 11. there are but two divorces on record. Yet stjiish and fashionable females constantly attended the representation of plays, replete with noxious qualities, and remained — Prudes. In the latter end of the reign of George in. your stylish and fashionable females neglect the theatre, Slid remain — Coquettes ! 151 observes, " To sum up all tbat we have been saying " upon the character of this extraordinary person- *' age, as lie was the most perfect model of dramatic ''action, so was he the most unblemished pattern of '' private and social qualities. Happy is it for that <' player who imitates him in the one, and still more " happy that man who copies liim in the other." Sir Richard Steele, in his Tatler, has been particularly attentive to the transcendent merits of Mr. Betterton ; so much so that he occupies no small share of even the very first paper of that celebrated periodical work. In the 71st number he again speaks highly of him, for his performing Hamlet at the advanced age of 70. Mr. Addison, in number 158, invites the town to attend Mr, Betterton on liis benefit night, at the play-house in the Hay-market. On Thursday, May 4, 1710, Sir Richard de- votes a great part of his essay to the memory of his departed excellence. " Having received notice that the famous actor, *' Mr. Betterton, was to be interred this evening in " the Cloisters, near Westminster Abbey, I was <' resolved to walk thither, and see the last ollicedonc '' to a man whom I had always very much admired, *' and from whose action I had received more strong 152 '* impressions of what is great and noble in liuman *' nature, than from the arguments of the most solid -*' philosophers, or the description of the most " charming poets I had ever read." *^ Such an actor as Mr. Betterton, ought to be ^^ recorded with the same respect as lioscius among '^ the Romans." '' There is no human invention so *' aptly calculated for the formiiig a free born people " as tliat of a theatre.' "Tully reports, that the cele- '' brated player of whom I have been speaking, ^' (Roscius) used frequently to say, ' The perfection '' of an actor is only to become what he is doing.' '* But extracts cannot do justice to Sir Richard's comments. I would recommend the perusal of the whole number to comprehend at once the great skill of the actor, and enjoy the additional gratification of the soundness of ujind and liberality of heart evinced by the entertaining Bickerstaif. It is, 1 believe, a generally received opinion, that the concomitant to a length of years, niust be an unsullied coJiscience, rectitude of conduct, and peace of mind. The vicious man mi\i/ have strength of frame to encounter the shocks of unruly passions ; or«he waj/ have the fortune to escape the retributive punishment of guilt : he 7na^ live to wear the silver badge of virtuous longevity — 153 but I am persuaded sucli instances are rare. With heart-felt satisfaction can I confidently point to my profession for innumerable ])roofs of persons enjoying *' age like a lusty -whiter, frosty, but kindly*." Nor do I remember a solitary instance of one, from the querulousness of age, the fear of deatli, or the retrospection of the past, falling into tlie gloom of methodism, or the depraved and desperate state of atheism ; but, with a meek and devout christian fervour, resigning their souls to the equal judge of all, with the firm conviction, that they shall not be arraigned at the awful bar as players, but as MEN. This digression, having truth for its support, serves to elucidate my position, that stage- performers are not more vicious, nor more corrupt than their fellow mortals : — however, we now return to the histrionical review ; and, passing to Booth, Gibber, and Wilkes, we have only additional specimens of genius, urbanity and pro- * I will give a few out of the many to prove it: A!Ieym,70— Bettcrton,75-Mrs.BetterU)n,67-Colie) Gibber, 87-C>uin,73-^ Rich, 70-Yates, 90-Bowinan, So-Beard, 75-Lcveridge, 88- Macklin, 107— Jefiersou, 76— Hull, 78— Packer, 75--King, 75 — Havard, 68— Moody, 84 — Mrs. Ciive, 75, Lee Lewes, 70— Hirst, 70— Mattocks, 65 — Levris, 64 — Mrs. Crawford, 72— C. Bannister, 66— Bland, 80. Living, Mr. Smith, 83— O'Brien, 75— Waldron, 70— Wewifzer, 64— Quick, 64— Mrs. Abingdon, 78 — Miss Pope, 69— Mrs. Mattocks, 67— Mrs. Leng, 7 6. 134 bity*. Bring it down to Gnrrick, not one is to be found whom liberality wouUl wish to erase from * Davies, in his " Dramatic Miscelianies," has recojded an anecdote of Mrs. Porter, (a celebrated actress of this period) which cannot be too generally known. Her place of residence being in the country, she was under the necessity of keeping a one horse chaise for the convenience of attending her professional duties; her constant companions were a book and a brace of pish'ls. — " la the summer of *' 1731, as she was taking the air, she was stopped by a •♦ highwayman, who demanded her money. She had the •' courage to present one of her pistols to him; the man, <* who had perhaps with hira only the appearance of fire- ** arms, assured her that he was no common thief; that «* robbing on the highway was not to him a matter of ** choice, but necessity, and in order to relieve the wants •* of his poor dislressed family. He informed her at the *' same time where he lived, and told her such a melancholy *' story that she gave him all the money in her purse, ** which was about ten guineas. The man left her; upon *• this she gave a lash to her horse; he suddenly started out *' of the track, and the chaise was overthrown; this " occasioned the dislocation of her thigh-bones. Let it be ** remembered, to her honour, that notwithstanding this «' unlucky and painful accident, she made strict Inquiry " after the robber, and finding that he had not deceived her, ** she raised amongst her acquaintance about sixt) pounds, « which she took care to send him. " Such an action in a person of high rank, would have *' been celebrated as something great and heroic : the *' feeling mind will make no distinction between tho ** generosity of an actress and that of a princess," 155 Ibe page 'of biograpliy. I decline particularizing others, more from the fear of becoming tedious, than from the want of materials. Tbe curious or the incredulous may easily satisfy tliemselves by apply- ing to any one of the many volumes published of the lives of theatrical professors. The present principal actors are too well known to require an eulogium ; I shall only say, that, collectively, they may vie with any body of men, for propriety and decorum ; and individually they would not disgrace any station, however exalted. I have advanced plain, unadorned, and stubborn facts. I can still go further, and aver, that there is no instance on record of a stage-player suiTering a shameful and ignominious death ! I am well aware tliis assertion may provoke the witticisms of the witling, the jest of the joker, the malignancy of the method ist, and perhaps the contemptuous smile of all. Still, still, it is a glorious superiority ! What other body can boast so immaculate a pre-eminence ? — Is it — But I will not pursue the ungrateful subject, conscious the stage requires no such inviduous comparisons to establish its noble utility and purity. Let the defenders of method ism and the would- be oppressors of the stage, exercise their ingenuity 156 and their indefatigable researches, to find, in the whole catalogue of liistriones, a parallel for the preaclier Wheatley ; the unworthy contemporary of the two Wcslcys. — A wretch, who, under the garb of religion, exercised the base arts of a nefa- rious seducer, upon tlie unsuspecting females of the sisterhood, to an extent that would have disjrraced the most depraved appetite of the most unprincipled debauchee, ever recorded in the polluted annals of gallantry. It is true, his expulsion followed his linal detection, but the mischief he did in the time is incalculable. We may partly judge of his depre- dations under his religious disguise, when we are , informed, that three years after he had been expelled with tlie brand of infamy fixed upon him, — ^' the *' mayor of the city of Norwich, was employed a '^ WHOLE DAY in taking the affidavits of the '' WOMEN whom he had thied to corrupt." Far be it from my wish or intention to charge the vices of so base a monster upon a whole body. Yet from this, and many other instances on RECORD, they should shew some commiseration, for the frailties of their fellow-creatures. When the example of the early method ists, with Messrs. J. and C. Wesley at their head, could not effect a reformation in a man, who, independent of their instruction, must, from liis situation, have been in hourly application to the scriptures. How more than illiberal it is in them to consign a body of 157 people to everlasting perdition, because it cannot feel their enthusiastic inspiration ; and what is more to the credit of the condemned class — will not FEIGN it. I may express myself strongly — but I feel — deeply feel, tlie depression of an honourable profession, by the injustice and obloquy heaped on it unde- servedly — and that in an age when men pride them- selves upon being unprejudiced in their opinions, enliglitened in their minds, enlarged in their ideas. Sincerely do I regret my powers and faculties are not ecjual to my feelings ; proudly would I advocate its cause — do justice to its merits, and overwhelm its oppressors with shame and confusion. Jf the outcry against actors were confined to the narrow-minded, to the fanatic, or the ignorant, it would require no great share of practical philosophy to endure it ; but when we find members of every order, distinction and body, uniting, as it were, by common consent to depress genius merely because it is theatrical*, we have * Mr. Evans, in his " Denominations of the Christian World," has oral! ted, (in his admirable essay, upon enthu- siasm and superstition,) enumerating the dramatic art, with music, statuary, and painting. He says, " The poet, the *' musician, the painter, and the statuary also are expected, P 158 nothing left, save the supplicating attitude of tlie Negro, encumbered witli the manacles of prejudice, and exclaim — " Are we not your brethren !" There is one class, or body of men, louder in their condemnation, and broader in their invectives against the use of a stage, tlian any other. I am almost inclined to attribute their attacks to a sort of jealousy, proceeding from a dread of rivalry. — But this is truly idle and ridiculous; — there are customers enougli for both. — We do not depreciate their skill — we acknowledge tJieir merits, and allow them to be very good actors*. Like the present *' and allowed to indulge an enthusiastic ardour in their ** professions; and for this trait in their characters, tiiey " are entitled to cojumendation." Twelfth Edition, page Ixix. 1 should like to know why this ingenious author should mention the above arts, and reject the practical part of the drama ? Where is the difference ? Acting, like music, is an energy; painting and poetry are arts. The two former de- light at the time of performance, the latter after it is over. * I am happy to have the authority of Dr, Witherspoon for the confirmation of their skill in acting. " 1 myself," he observes, " in early life, knew a young man of good '* talents, who absolutely untitted himself fpr public speak- •' ing by this practice, [mimicry] Ee was educated for *' the ministry, and Mas in every respect well qualified for •'the office; but having, without suspicion, frcquentlj *« AMuasD HIMSELF aud OTHERS, by imitating the tones and 159 dramatic world, ILej are divided into equestrians and pedestrians. — Like us tbey study stage effect, and are very attentive to costume. We confess, that in general tbey keep up to the character they have assumed better tlian we do. — Their disguise sits closer — tliey seldom betray who, or what, is the actor beneatli. Be he pride, vanity, lust, avarice — zeal, sancitity, fervour, and holiness, conceal him from tiie view ! They do the trick without exposing the hafid of the conjuror. The attention they pay to the exterior is very commendable*. — When you see one of them, you immediately feel a conviction of his being well habited for his part. We will take an equestrian, to elucidate their skill in dress and acting. A suit of black, or sombre " gestures of the most eminent preachers of the city where *' he Hved, and when he began to preach himself, he could *' not avoid falling into one or other of those tones which ** he had so often TvfiMic'o. This, as soon as it was per- *' ceived, threw the audience into a burst of laughter, '* and hewassoon oblii^eatoquit the profession altogether, " for no other reason than that he had thus spoiled himself *' by the talent of imitation." Dr. Witherspoon's Letter. I beg leave to designate the above facetious gentleman ; THE COMIC PREACHING RoSCIUS ! * Even so ye also outwardly appear righteous unto men, but within, yeare full of hypocrisy and iniquity. Matthew c. XAiii. v. 28. F2 160 colour — polished l30ots, -witbout (ops — hair smootlily combed, unruffled as liis mind — a gravity of deport- ment — a sleek horse, dark and pampered like ils rider. — an empty saddle-bag, an inuendo of its master's poverty, and emblematical of the owners brains. With slow, deliberate pace he moves his horse into the town ; the news of the good mans arrival is therefore conveyed to the place of his destination, time enough for his host to receive liim at the door with as much humility as a Fran- siscan friar would a cardinal. He is conducted to (he best bed room, given the seat of pre-eminence, lives upon the choicest viands, reposes upon the softest bed. Wlien conducted to his theatre, he receives the sighing approbation, and groaning acquiescence of all his auditors. He doles theni out a long-winded speech, in the form of an extem- pore prayer, in which lie too often forgets the reverence and awe due to the sacred cause of that Being whose servant he has the presumption to call himself*. He extols the humility, poverty and * " Here is a damned soul, which Christ has evoked *« from the hell of fire ! !" 0! might the blood of sprinkling cry. For those who spurn the sprinkled blood ; Assert thy glorious deity 1 Stretch out thy arm, thou Triune God, The Unitarian fiend expel, And chase his doctrine back to Hell. 41st Hymn, large Hymn Book. 161 sufferings of the early supporters and promulgators of the christian foith — ^but he keeps his horse ! He talks of primitive times, primitive men, and primi- tive manners — but he keeps his horse : He expa- tiates upon charity, aud liis saddle-bags are remembered ! If his rivals, the comedians, should be in town — a spider to a fly — a ferret to a rat — cannot be a more determined enemy. He fulminates them with brimstone ; roasts them with fire ; consigns them to the lowest pit of perdition*, and *' The Lord Jesus Christ vomited forth arianism, which " ran like a stream info the gulph of Hell." Portraiture of Methodism, page 262, 264, 330. And when thou prayest, thou shalt not be as the hypo- crites are; for they love to pray standinj^, in the synagogues, ajjd in the corner of the streets, that they may be seen by men. Verily, I say unto you, they have their reward. But thou, when thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy lather which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly. But when ye pray, use not win repetitions, as the heathen do; for they tijink that they shall he heard for their much speaking. Matthew vi. 5, 6, 7, * " At the t'icatre, when all is sunk in haughty forget- *' fulness of God; after the proud have once more displayed *' their bn'liaucy, nnd set their heart as the heart of God; ** after Jlie eye** vf vn,oily have for the ?ast time, feasted *' themselves; after the tears which real guilt aud misery P3 162 receives the sanction of his christian followers*! He performs his limited engagement, and thea ■* demanded have been ^vasted on fictitious crimes and " calamities, and the wliole croud have he=en shaken with ** the madness of laughter; after profaneness hath unfurled *' its flag of defiance, with hell-bred gallantry setting at ** nought the name of the Most High, the tremendous ope- •' rations of Providence, and terrors of the bottomless pit; '•' after obscenity hath swallowed down its morsel of elegant *• filthiness; let a celesliai spirit shine forth, eclipsing the •• luminaries of the place, (i. e, the l&mps avd candles) *• and scattering round those terrors which were once felt " at the sepulchre of Jesus of Nazareth ; and in such strains " as these, let his voice announce the hastening doom :— ^ " Worms of the dust, enemies of the eternal God ! yoi* *' have long been the abhorrence of the inhabitants of "Heaven; you have disdained to seek Jesus, who was *' crucified ; the divine sorrows, the pure delights, which •* his spirit creates in repenting souls you have rejected— " you have treated with derision ; now the day of your *• visitation expires. I swear by him that liveth for ever " and ever, you shall have time no longer! Then let "trembling rock the ground; let the fabric and its miser- " able assembly roll down the opening chasm, and let the tt crowd of dislodged spirits behold the majestic unveiled ** flaming countenance of their judge! would such ven- " GEANCE BE TOO SEVERE. LeT US NOT PRESUME TO SAY (( IT WOULD. From a Sermon preached by a Mr. Lovct in Artillery -lane ^ London. If this terrific minister of wrath be a specimen of Mr Love's angels f what are w£ to expect from bis p£vil&3 163 proceeds to the next place appointed by hh managers, and, repetatur haustus! Boils and ebullitions of a sound constitution ! O Religion I thou only pure good on earth! ^'Balm of hurt ''minds!" *' Chief nourisher in life's feast!" Hundredsof souls to be suddenly immersed in the liquid fire, for participating in what the^ conceive an innocent amuse- ment, and we are not to call it a severe punishment! I would recommend Mr. Love — an unfortunate name, for ooe composed of hatred and all uncharitableness — fo peruse, ■with attention, the death of Stephen, and strive to gain some of the genuine fine traits of pure christianify. " And " they stoned Stephen, calling upon God, and saying Lord *' Jesus receive my spirit. And he kneeled down, and " cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their «» CHARGE." Acts vii. 39, 60. * But why dost thou judge thy brother ? or why dost thou set at nought thy brother ? For we shall ail stand before the judgment seat of Christ. Rora. xiv. 10. But if ye do not forgive, neither will your father which is in heaven forgive your trespasses. Mark xi. 26. Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out of thine own eye. Matt. vii. 5. Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of, Ye judge after the flesh ; I judge no man. John vii. 15. But I say unto you which hear, love your enemies ; do good to them which hate you. Bless them that curse youc and pray for them which despitefully use you. liuke vi. 2',28. 164 How is thy name degraded? What imposters, what cheats assume thy livery ! Who " Play such fantastic tricks before high Heayen, •' As make the augels weep." ^^ When will the unbeliever learn the nature of •* true religion from Jesus Christ himself, and not *' from those of his pretended disciples, who retain '' little or none of the lineaments of the divine " original." Having attempted a sketch of an equestrian saint in one theatre, I will now try my skill at an out-line of a pedestrian sinner in the other. And I think our wonder will be excited — not that there are so many vicious — but, tliat so many should escape from the pollution of liabits e5ii2:enuered by poverty and contempt. A young man is enticed by indolence, tlioughtlessness, or vivacity, to embrace a profession, in tlie art or mystery^of which he is completely ignorant. The sinner, like the saint, experiences a call, mistaking intoxication for inspiration — and enthusiasm for vigour and capacity. He has beheld the stage heroes and heroines of liis youthfid recoil 'ction through the most flattering jnedium, crown«"d with praise, approbafiuM and applause. He participates in the pleasii.> — repeats a spe' cli — learns a part by rote — spoL ivvay to ^:m«iieirand a few chosen associates — tia^y extol his t:kiil — his former thcspiaa idols sink 165 far beneath Ill's own ideal excellence — he feels himself their superior — the chair of Roscius appears witliin his grasp. His vanity thus inflamed, with all the impetuosity incident to youth, he enrols himself under th3 standard of the first itinerant manager who will receive him. He soon feels a sensible difierence ! The board of plenty is changed for that of indigence. He finds no suppliant host to greet his efforts with welcome and approbation! He finds no chearful fire side — no gentle courtesies to sooth his irritated mind ! The town from which he had anticipated fame, renown, and all that folly could infuse into the brains of sanguine boyhood, is as indifferent to his public claims as it is careless about his private wants! He finds himself aa isolated being in the midst of bustle — neglected — • shunned — pointed at by scorn's slow unmovinq finger 1 Banished /rom all respectable society* — * If I permitted this passage to escape without a com- ment, I should expect (and richly merit) the reproach of many dear and valued friends. 1 therefore confess, with aa indescribable satisfaction, that 1 have met, in the course of my theatrical progress, with courtesies, hospitality and liberality never to be forgotten, but tenaciously cherished with the fondest records of my happiest moments. York, Hull, Doncaster, Sheffield, Hudders6eld, Horncastle and Birmingham will ever furnish me with the recollection of individual kindnesses, as flattering and as consolatory as the receiving of obligations without the power of a return can possibly be. Dublin, Watcrford, Carrick-on-Suir, and 166 avoided like a pestilence! — his pride fakes the alarm: he wishes to retreat — infatuation still prevails — and he quiescently submits to the opprobrious name of PLAYER, with every disgraceful epithet which illiberality and ignorance can bestow. If this should present itself to the sight of one^ attracted by the glare of the stage, to him I will say, '^ Young '' and thoughtless adventurer, if sensibility makes *' any part of fyour composition, be content with ^' your present station ; regret not liow humble, *' reflect not how irksome ! The prodigal, when *' reduced to the state of a swine-herd, was not ^' more an object of sympafh.y Ihan the curse o£ ^' feeling and susceptibility united In the wayward *' lot of an itinerant player!'* " This is not an over-charged picture — too many have sat for the likeness ! Some few are at this instant in F/ondon, receiving the reward of their industry, suffering and talent, by a liberal salary, and the countenance of genius, rank and literature — living instances that the stage (even in its present state) so far from debasing the mind of the professor — expands — invigorates it, and enables the actor to Youffhal, have the same demands upon my gratitude. With great sincerity of heart, I acknowledge tKem, and deeply deplore this acknowledgment is the only remunera- tion I can offer to evince the warm remcmhrance of the man j civilities bestowed upon a stranger and a wanderer. 167 triumph over the difficulties and inipedinicnfa thrown in his way by the selfish and narrow- minded. I am aware of a seeming contradiction in my attempting to dissuade young adventurers, at the same time I am producing instances of success, lint there is defeat as well as victory in tlie contest; and, it is a struggle ag&inst fearful odds! Nothing can more fully prove the absurdity of the prejudice against actors, than the treatment they experience as professors and men. The player, exercising liis delightful art, sooths and enchants the beings who (when out of his fascinating sphere) combine to worry and torment him. Me moves tlicm to tears; excites them to lauglitcr, at his pleasure; they applaud him to the skies — approve his skill — admire his art! The next day they avoid, despise, contemn him, and all without any investigation of his mind, principles, or manners. — He is a player; — that o)?e word withers the cuhure of his mind, depraves his principles, corrupts his manners, and condemns him as an outcast * ! * 1 frequently compare the estimation we are held in by a large proportion of this our thinking nation, with the condiiion of tlie unfortunate dogs upon the whipping day in York. This amiable ceremony oriiiinated during the en- lighlened days of our ancestors, when an ill stard, half starved, hungry do^ thou