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 U8RAR? 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CAUfOMM 
 
 RIVEITSIOF
 
 THE 
 
 THEATRE. 
 
 S- 
 
 BY THE 
 
 REV. S. G. WINCHESTER. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 
 WILLIAM S. MARTIEN. 
 1840.
 
 
 Entered according to the act of Congress, in the year 1840, by 
 William S. Martien, in the office of the Clerk of the District 
 Court, for the Eastern District of Pennsylvania.
 
 CORRESPONDENCE. 
 
 Oakland College, April 3, 1839. 
 Rev. S. G. Winchester. 
 
 Sir : — We, the undersigned Committee, have been appointed for 
 the purpose of returning to you the warmest thanks of the Belles 
 Lettres Society, and Adelphic Institute, for your eloquent Address 
 delivered before them yesterday, and respectfully request a copy 
 of the same for publication. 
 
 Yours very respectfully, 
 
 Abijah Hunt, 
 James R. Galtney, 
 Committee of the Belles Lettres Society. 
 Samuel R. Walker, 
 J. Weeks, 
 Committee of the Adelphic Institute. 
 
 Messrs. Abijah Hunt, i Qf th( Bdhs LM) . es Soci 
 
 James R. Galtney, $ J 
 
 Samuel R. Walker, } / ^ r ., ,-, , >• T ,-, . 
 , w ' V Of the Adelphic Institute. 
 
 Gentlemen : — In answer to your polite note of yesterday, request- 
 ing for publication a copy of my Address to your Societies, I would 
 say, that as the subject discussed is one of great practical impor- 
 tance, I should prefer, if the address be published at all, that it 
 should go before the public in a more extended form. As, there- 
 fore, you have called for it, I will endeavour to prepare it for the 
 press as soon as possible. 
 
 With great respect, 
 
 I am, Gentlemen, 
 
 Your obedient servant, 
 
 S. G. WINCHESTER. 
 Oakland College, Miss., April 4th, 1839.
 
 TO 
 THE YOUTH 
 
 OF BOTH SEXES, 
 
 IN THE UNITED STATES, 
 THIS VOLUME 
 
 IS RESPECTFULLY 
 
 INSCRIBED BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The preceding correspondence sufficiently 
 explains the occasion of this publication. 
 Only a small portion of what is contained 
 in these pages, could have been delivered in 
 a single address. The importance of the 
 subject ultimately led to a more extended 
 examination of it, than was originally in- 
 tended. 
 
 The nattering manner in which the address 
 was received, and the acknowledged change 
 of sentiment which some who heard it, kindly 
 and candidly attributed to its instrumentality, 
 have induced the belief that its publication 
 might, in an humble measure, subserve the 
 cause of public virtue and social happiness. 
 
 The writer has endeavoured to examine 
 the subject with candour, and to treat those 
 who differ from him, with respect. Whether
 
 10 PREFACE. 
 
 he has succeeded in either, the reader must 
 decide for himself. It will be observed, that 
 the principal reliance for authority, is upon 
 those who have written in defence of the 
 stage, except where the authority is avowedly 
 against it, as is generally the case in the 
 chapter on "Authorities against the Theatre." 
 The one we regard as concessions against 
 the stage, the other as important testimony 
 against it. 
 
 The appeal is made to the judgment and 
 to the conscience. May it be successful! 
 
 s. g. w.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 Page 
 A statement of the point discussed, 13 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 Origin and progress of the Drama, 31 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 Origin and progress of the Drama continued, - - . . 59 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 Origin and progress of the Drama continued, .... 89 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 Fruitless attempts to reform the Theatre, 114 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 Authorities against the Theatre, 141 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 Is the Theatre a mirror of nature? 166 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 Is the Theatre a school of virtue? 181
 
 THE THEATRE. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 A STATEMENT OF THE POINT DISCUSSED. 
 
 Freedom of opinion and of the press, is an in- 
 valuable blessing, so long as it is not abused, 
 nor perverted to licentious purposes. It is a 
 privilege enjoyed in this country, to a greater 
 extent than in any other. It is a privilege 
 which has been secured to us by toil and 
 bloodshed, and one which every citizen of 
 this nation should justly appreciate, and firmly 
 preserve. 
 
 Men and bodies of men, who ask the pa- 
 tronage and favour of the public, are open to 
 examination, and must expect to be scruti- 
 nized. This scrutiny should not obtrude it- 
 self upon the privacy of the fireside, nor vio- 
 late the common courtesies of social life, lest 
 
 2
 
 14 THE THEATRE. 
 
 it should give license to the tongue of scan- 
 dal. 
 
 But the pretensions of men, and of bodies 
 of men, claiming public regard and favour, 
 must be canvassed ; and the freedom of opin- 
 ion and of the press, consists in the privilege 
 of doing so, without incurring the charge of 
 officious intermeddling with the concerns of 
 others. In this land, we have no privileged 
 order of men ; and long may it be free from 
 such a curse. We are an inquisitive people, 
 and not disposed to take things for granted 
 without sufficient reason. 
 
 The Christian religion has often been upon 
 the tapis, and its claims and pretensions have 
 been fully discussed. The respective merits 
 of the different denominations of Christians 
 have again and again been publicly discussed. 
 No one objects to this, though fault has been 
 found, and justly found, with the manner in 
 which such discussions are sometimes con- 
 ducted. Conscious rectitude never shrinks 
 from scrutiny. Men love darkness rather 
 than light, only when their deeds are evil. 
 " For every one that doeth evil hateth the 
 light, neither cometh to the light, lest his
 
 THETHEATRE. 15 
 
 deeds should be reproved. But he that doeth 
 truth, cometh to the light." John iii. 20, 21. 
 
 The Banking system, the Common-school 
 system, the Railroad system, the Sabbath- 
 mail system, &c, have all been made the sub- 
 jects of public inquiry and discussion; and 
 why should that system be exempt from this 
 examination, which claims to be a public 
 school of virtue, and a rational and instruc- 
 tive amusement, especially since it is com- 
 monly made the subject of municipal regula- 
 tion and restriction? When the theatre sets 
 itself up to be a public instructor, it is both 
 natural and proper for the public to inquire 
 what kind of lessons it teaches. When it 
 claims to be a public benefit, by amusing while 
 it enlightens the public mind, who should ob- 
 ject, if the public desire to know what is the 
 moral tendency of that amusement? For 
 whatever affects the morals of a community, 
 ought surely to be open to its examination, 
 as its peace and order are dependent upon 
 the character of the prevailing morals. Other- 
 wise a public nuisance could not be inquired 
 into and suppressed. 
 
 As the theatre exists by municipal toler-
 
 16 THE THEATRE. 
 
 ance, it cannot be independent of public opin- 
 ion, nor ought it to be beyond the reach of 
 public scrutiny. 
 
 Ever since the theatre has existed, it has 
 been the serious opinion of the wisest and 
 best men, in every contemporary age, that it 
 was an evil, and that its tendency was de- 
 structive to virtue and good morals. 
 
 We, in this age, cannot, and ought not to 
 be indifferent to this accumulating testimony 
 against the theatre. We enter, therefore, 
 upon this examination of the moral tendency 
 of theatrical exhibitions, not with the spirit of 
 captiousness, but we regard it as a sober in- 
 quiry, affecting deeply the interests of every 
 community. 
 
 It is important in the commencement of 
 this discussion, to ascertain the real question 
 at issue. The argument in favour of the 
 stage, has not, we think, been fairly con- 
 ducted, and hence those opposed to it have 
 been placed in a disadvantageous position. 
 The true question before us is, whether the 
 stage as it now is, and ever has been, is an evil, 
 or a benefit to the community? 
 
 The advocates of the stage commonly de-
 
 THE THEATRE. 17 
 
 fend it as it ought to be, and as they think it 
 might become, if properly managed. They 
 defend an imaginary perfection of the thea- 
 tre. This perfect drama never did exist; 
 and judging from the past, and from our 
 knowledge of human nature, as well as from 
 the nature and object of all scenic exhibitions. 
 we believe never will exist. This unfair 
 statement of the argument draws out the op- 
 posers of the theatre, against a comparatively 
 unexceptionable state of it. The mind is thuF 
 drawn off from the true point of inquiry, and 
 those who attend the theatre are deceived b} 
 the manner of defending it, by being led to 
 suppose that the stage as it is, is defended. 
 The two questions are entirely distinct, and 
 ought not, in all fairness, to be confounded. 
 The one is a question of fact, the other a 
 question of hypothesis. And to profess to 
 discuss the one, while really discussing the 
 other, is, we think, uncandid and illogical. 
 
 Indeed, this mode of defending the theatre, 
 is an implied admission, that as now con- 
 ducted, it is an evil, and incapable of success- 
 ful defence. 
 
 When a perfect state of the drama shall 
 2*
 
 18 THE THEATRE. 
 
 exist, it will be time then to inquire into its 
 moral tendency; at present, our object is to 
 examine the character and tendency of the 
 theatre, as it is now, and ever has been. 
 
 Those objectionable traits of the drama, 
 which are frequently pointed out as tending 
 to immorality, are declared by the defenders 
 of the stage to be only its abuses. It is an 
 important fact that these abuses are admitted 
 to exist: for we would ask, when did the 
 theatre ever exist without them? And we 
 may further ask, when will it exist without 
 them ? If all experience has shown, and his- 
 tory testifies to the fact, that the stage never 
 has existed without these abuses ; if we may 
 fairly infer from the past, what will be the fu- 
 ture character of the drama ; and if we may 
 logically argue from the nature and object of 
 the theatre, that it never can be free from the 
 objectionable traits alluded to, then the argu- 
 ment is as good against the theatre, as it is 
 against its abuses. " Ex abusu non arguitur 
 ad usum," is a maxim which we cordially 
 adopt. No argument against the use of a 
 thing, can be fairly drawn from its abuse. 
 Rut to apply this maxim to the point in hand,
 
 THE THEATRE. 19 
 
 would be to beg the question. It would be 
 taking for granted that the theatre has existed, 
 and may exist, without those traits which its 
 advocates say are its abuses. This we are 
 by no means ready to admit. We believe 
 that the drama has ever been characterized 
 by what are here called its abuses ; and this 
 we think will appear from the historical out- 
 line of the theatre which we shall presently 
 give. We believe, moreover, that while hu- 
 man nature continues to be what it ever has 
 been since the fall of man, and what it now 
 is, there is no probability, if indeed there be 
 a possibility, that a theatre could be sustained 
 without what are called its abuses. If the 
 theatre itself be not an evil, yet its abuse is 
 an evil necessary to its support. It is the 
 very aliment which feeds and sustains it. It 
 is a well known fact that what is here called 
 the abuse of the stage, is its chief attraction 
 to the great mass of those who patronize it. 
 Remove these abuses, and the stage, thus 
 stript of its main attractions to the lewd and 
 immoral, would soon need no opposition to 
 put it down. The respectable and moral por- 
 tion of its patrons would be too small to sus-
 
 20 THE THEATRE. 
 
 tain it. The additional number of patrons 
 which such a reformation might secure, would 
 be insignificant compared with the number of 
 those who would forsake it. The new patrons, 
 also, would, in all probability, be of such a 
 character as to demand far more talent to 
 satisfy them, than is commonly found on the 
 boards at the present day. To procure this 
 additional amount of talent, even were it in 
 all cases possible, would be to incur additional 
 expenses, while the income of the theatre, 
 after all, would be greatly diminished. 
 
 Add to this, as an item against the proba- 
 bility of sustaining the theatre, even when thus 
 reformed, the increasing prevalence of religious 
 influence. In this country, the Gospel labours 
 under no civil disabilities. Its institutions are 
 multiplying, and its power is beginning to be 
 felt in the higher walks of life. 
 
 The force of these remarks will be seen by 
 adverting to this consideration, that the ob- 
 ject of the player is to make money, and the 
 object of those who attend the theatre is to 
 be amused. The one is generally in propor- 
 tion to the other. We may therefore say, 
 that the immediate object of the theatre is, to
 
 THE THEATRE. 21 
 
 amuse those who attend it. In order to af- 
 ford this amusement, there must be a corres- 
 pondence or similitude between the taste of 
 the audience, and the character of the exhi- 
 bition. In order to be sustained, the theatre 
 must cater to the taste of its patrons. Dra- 
 matic writers have this in view, in order to 
 ensure success to their productions. 
 
 Terence, an ancient comic dramatist, ac- 
 knowledges this in the following lines : 
 
 Poeta cum primum animum ad scribendum appulit, 
 Id sibi ncgotii credidit solum dari, 
 Populo ut placerent quas fecisset fabulas.* 
 
 which have been thus translated: 
 
 Our poet, when he set his mind on writing, 
 Believed he had no more to do, but make 
 Such plays as should be to the people's liking. 
 
 The same fact is admitted by the Spanish 
 dramatist, Lopez de Vega. When Cervantes 
 expostulated with him upon the great licen- 
 tiousness of his plays, he answered "Miguel, 
 it is the people who pay us, and therefore we 
 ought to please them." 
 
 If then, we would ascertain the character 
 
 * Terentius, in prologo Andriae.
 
 22 THE THEATRE. 
 
 of dramatic exhibitions, we have only to in- 
 quire into the taste of those who attend them. 
 We do not mean to say that all who attend 
 them have the same depraved taste ; but we 
 know that a very large proportion of those 
 who attend the theatre are of such a character, 
 that if it were reformed of its abuses, they 
 would cease to attend it, because it would 
 cease to amuse them. We find that the most 
 vicious and licentious uniformly attend, and 
 are pleased. With what are they so much 
 pleased ? not with that which affords pleasure 
 to those of delicate refinement, and of correct 
 moral feelings. This would be to confound 
 the moral character of the whole audience, and 
 to place the more refined and virtuous, on a 
 level, in point of taste, with the most vicious, 
 abandoned, and profligate. Why is it, then, 
 that so many of the character last named, are 
 drawn to the theatre, and are gratified and 
 pleased ? The answer is, because they see 
 and hear so much that accords with their vul- 
 gar and licentious taste. The virtuous and 
 moral, who attend the theatre and are pleased, 
 see and hear something, which, on account of 
 its literary excellence, or the genius and ora-
 
 THE THEATRE. 23 
 
 tory with which it is exhibited, they are willing 
 to applaud, notwithstanding the licentiousness 
 which may accompany it. They doubtless 
 regard themselves as fortified against the 
 effect of vulgar and obscene insinuations; but 
 they should ponder the counsel, " let him 
 that thinketh he standeth, take heed lest he 
 fall." 
 
 As long as the great mass of those who at- 
 tend the theatre continue to be pleased with 
 vulgar and licentious exhibitions, so long will 
 the theatre continue to be what it is. And as 
 the theatre always follows, and never leads 
 the taste of the audience, it is evident that if 
 any change is effected in the taste of the 
 people, it must be by some agency other than 
 the stage. And yet the influence of any re- 
 forming agency is constantly counteracted by 
 the stage, because the more and oftener a bad 
 taste is gratified, the more it is strengthened. 
 The stage, by adapting itself to the taste of 
 the immoral and profligate, is a barrier against 
 all reformation. Hence, the very object of 
 the theatre, namely to gratify the present taste 
 and will of the audience, must for ever hinder 
 any reformation in this respect.
 
 24 THE THEATRE. 
 
 To what agency, then, foreign from the 
 stage, must we look for a reformation of its 
 abuses ? 
 
 This question may be best answered by 
 adverting to the cause of the present vitiated 
 and licentious taste of the mass of the people. 
 Whatever may be the theory of men on this 
 subject, the fact that such is the taste of the 
 mass of the people is undeniable. 
 
 We believe that a taste for licentiousness 
 is one of the developments of depraved human 
 nature. This universal defection of our race 
 may show itself in various ways, all dependent 
 in a great degree, upon circumstances ; such 
 as, constitutional temperament, the tempta- 
 tions to which we are exposed, the company 
 with which we associate, the relative strength 
 of the different passions, the influence of ex- 
 ample, the restraints of education and refine- 
 ment, &c. Owing to these and similar cir- 
 cumstances, we find that the same depravity 
 of heart is manifested in different ways. The 
 love of sensual pleasure, the love of honour, 
 the love of power, all characterize the same 
 state of heart. Pride, vanity, ambition, lust, 
 revenge, dishonesty, tyranny, &c, are all
 
 THE THEATRE. "2.) 
 
 streams flowing from the same corrupt foun- 
 tain; yet they may not all be developed in 
 one man. The proud man may not be a 
 voluptuary. The dishonest man may not be 
 vain, &c. A large class of the community, 
 and that class too, the very one which most 
 generally patronizes the theatre, will always be 
 found exposed to those influences, which call 
 out, and form that vulgar and licentious taste, 
 which, by its reflex influence on the stage, 
 determines the character of theatrical exhibi- 
 tions. 
 
 It is impossible to say to what extent the 
 influence of knowledge and refined society 
 may affect the disposition and taste of man ; 
 but we are safe in saying, that as long as he 
 continues a sinful being, and possesses a heart 
 adverse to holiness; and as long as the great 
 mass of our race continue to be surrounded 
 by the circumstances in w T hich they have al- 
 ways, hitherto, been found, so long will a 
 corrupt and licentious taste control and deter- 
 mine the character of the theatre. 
 
 To what agency, then, we ask again, shall 
 we look for a reformation of what are called 
 the abuses of the stage? It is impossible to 
 3
 
 26 THE THEATRE. 
 
 bring the mass of the people, and particularly 
 a large class of those who attend the theatre, 
 under the direct influence of knowledge and 
 refined society. And even if we could, that 
 influence might prove ineffectual, as it has in 
 many cases. At best, it could but shape the 
 manifestation of the same unholy state of 
 heart which they now have. Knowledge has 
 sometimes only served to polish, without sub- 
 duing a licentious taste. The influence of 
 refined society might only serve to gild the 
 poison. On the whole, it appears evident that 
 before the theatre becomes what it ought to be, 
 man must become what he ought to be; and he 
 must become such through some agency other 
 than the theatre. 
 
 We believe that genuine religion alone can 
 make men what they should be. But how 
 shall we bring this agency to bear upon the 
 play -going community? They, for the most 
 part, unite with the theatre in opposing reli- 
 gion. 
 
 The theatre endeavours to counteract the 
 only influence which can possibly reform it. 
 This opposition to religion is the most pro- 
 minent development of that depravity of our
 
 THETHEATRE. 27 
 
 nature, which imparts to the theatre all that 
 is objectionable. This opposition to religion 
 is inveterate and bitter. In addition to the 
 natural repugnance of the heart to religion, 
 the actors perceive that their pecuniary inter- 
 ests are at stake. They deprecate the influ- 
 ence of religion, for the same reason that 
 Demetrius, and the workmen of his craft, 
 did. Paul's preaching had been the means 
 of turning many from the worship of Diana, 
 the goddess of the Ephesians. " And the 
 same time there arose no small stir about 
 that way. For a certain man named Deme- 
 trius, a silver-smith, which made silver shrines 
 for Diana, brought no small gain unto the 
 "craftsmen; whom he called together, with the 
 workmen of like occupation, and said, Sirs, 
 ye know that by this craft we have our 
 wealth; moreover, ye see and hear, that not 
 alone at Ephesus, but almost throughout all 
 Asia, this Paul hath persuaded and turned 
 away much people, saying, that they be no 
 gods which are made with hands. So that 
 not only this our craft is in danger to be set 
 at nought, but also that the temple of the 
 great goddess Diana should be despised, and
 
 28 THE THEATRE. 
 
 her magnificence should be destroyed, whom 
 all Asia, and the world worshippeth. And 
 when they heard these sayings, they were 
 full of wrath, and cried out, saying, Great is 
 Diana of the Ephesians." Acts xix. 23 — 28. 
 
 The lovers of pleasure dread the influence 
 of religion on the theatre, because it would 
 dry up one source of licentious gratification. 
 
 The influence of religion tends not merely 
 to correct the gross abuses of the theatre, 
 but as these abuses seem essential to its sup- 
 port, it tends to break up the whole system 
 of theatrical exhibitions. We believe that 
 the theatre must continue to be in the main 
 what it is now, and ever has been, or cease 
 to exist altogether. We see no hope of its 
 ever being radically or permanently reform- 
 ed, or becoming the friend and patron of 
 virtue. 
 
 We are by no means insensible to the 
 attractions of the stage, nor are we unwilling 
 to award to it all the merit it can justly 
 claim. W r e are not entering upon a ruthless 
 tirade against the theatre, but upon a calm 
 examination of its moral tendency. We 
 admit that historical incident, eloquence.
 
 THE THEATRE. 29 
 
 oratory, and sometimes noble sentiment, are 
 found combined on the stage, with such 
 symmetry and power, as to excite admiration, 
 and even to wake up the sympathies of the 
 audience, until they forget that it is fiction. 
 " When, therefore," to use the language of 
 another, " a youth of uncommon talents, as 
 an actor, appears, we are willing to ascribe 
 the disposition to see him act, not to a total 
 insensibility of the corruptions of the theatre, 
 but rather to a want of that degree of hatred 
 to those corruptions which is sufficient to 
 prevail over an extraordinary temptation." 
 " Let it be fairly acknowledged, that the 
 theatre has advantages of a certain kind, 
 when compared with other amusements; that 
 it is less frivolous than some of them, and 
 that it recommends itself in a particular man- 
 ner to intellectual persons: and then let self- 
 denial be practised with respect to the thea- 
 tre, on the ground that intellectual enjoy- 
 ment, in the judgment of the devout Chris- 
 tian, is no adequate compensation for the 
 propagation of moral evil." 
 
 Not only should this be the judgment of 
 the devout Christian, but of every lover of 
 3*
 
 30 THE THEATRE. 
 
 virtue, and of his country. The character of 
 the drama, however, for some time past, has 
 presented but few intellectual attractions. It 
 has so far declined as now to be adapted to 
 the most vulgar taste. This is evident both 
 from the character of the pieces exhibited, 
 and from the character of the large majority 
 of those who attend the theatre at the pre- 
 sent day. It requires, therefore, little or no 
 self-denial for the intelligent and virtuous 
 portion of the community to abandon the 
 theatre. 
 
 As to the pious portion of the community, 
 it is to be presumed, for their own sake, that 
 the theatre, as at present conducted, has no 
 attractions for them. 
 
 It requires a versatility of taste, incompati- 
 ble with a devout and gracious state of heart, 
 to relish the devotions of the sanctuary and 
 the closet one day, and the amusements of 
 the theatre the next.
 
 THE THEATRE. 31 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF THE DRAMA. 
 
 The immoral and injurious tendency of dra- 
 matic representations, and the improbability, 
 if not impossibility of the stage ever becom- 
 ing the patron of virtue and good morals, 
 will appear by adverting to its origin, and 
 progress, and to the fruitless attempts made 
 to reform it. For the origin of the dramatic 
 art, says the Encyclopaedia Britannica, we 
 always turn our eyes to Greece, the nursery 
 of the arts and sciences. It may indeed have 
 been known among more ancient nations, but 
 no records remain sufficient to support this 
 opinion. The different states of Greece as- 
 serted their claims to the honour of having 
 given it birth, but the account of the Atheni- 
 ans is most generally received. It derived its 
 origin from the hymns which were sung in the 
 festivals of Bacchus, in honour of that deity. 
 While these resounded in the ears of the mul- 
 titude, choruses of Bacchants and Fauns,
 
 32 THE THEATRE. 
 
 ranged round certain obscene images which 
 they carried in triumphal procession, chaunted 
 lascivious songs, and sometimes sacrificed 
 individuals to public ridicule. (See article, 
 Theatre.) 
 
 The author of the above extract, is evi- 
 dently a warm friend to the theatre, yet he 
 testifies that it had its origin in obscenity and 
 lasciviousness. Such, indeed, is the testimony 
 of all who have written on the subject. 
 
 The word tragedy, is derived from the 
 Greek t^ayo? (tragos) a goat, and »8«? (ode) a 
 song. A Bacchanalian ode always accom- 
 panied the sacrifice of a goat to Bacchus.* 
 
 * We find the following account given of the origin of this 
 festival. A rich planter of Attica, finding, one day, a goat devour- 
 ing his grapes, killed it, and invited the peasantry to come and 
 feast upon it. He gave them abundance of wine to drink, intoxi- 
 cated with which, they daubed their faces with the lees, orna- 
 mented their heads with chaplets made of the vine branches, and 
 then danced, singing songs in chorus to Bacchus all the while, 
 round the animal destined for their banquet. A feast so very 
 agreeable was not likely to go unrepeated ; and it was soon 
 reduced to a custom which was pretty generally observed in 
 Attica, during the vintage. On those occasions the peasants, 
 absolved from all reserve by intoxication, gave a loose to their 
 animosities against the opulent, and in token of defiance of their 
 supposed oppressors, went in bodies to their houses, and in set 
 terms of abuse and sarcasm, called aloud for redress of their
 
 THE THEATRE. 33 
 
 So much for the Bacchanalian and obscene 
 origin of the drama. But let us trace its pro- 
 gress. The hymns in honour of Bacchus, 
 while they described his rapid progress and 
 splendid conquests, became imitative; and 
 in the contests of the Pythian games, the 
 players on the flute, who entered into compe- 
 tition, were enjoined by an express law to re- 
 present successively the circumstances that 
 had preceded, accompanied and followed the 
 victory of Apollo over Python, among which 
 circumstances were, doubtless, Apollo's love 
 affairs with Daphne, Bolina, Clytie, and Leu- 
 cothoe. 
 
 Some years after this regulation, Susarion 
 
 grievances. The novelty of the exhibition drew a multitude round 
 them, who enjoyed it as a new species of entertainment. Far from 
 preventing it, the magistrates authorized the proceeding, in order 
 that it might serve as an admonition to the rich; taking special 
 care, however, that no positive violence should be resorted to, and 
 thus making it a wholesome preventive of public disorder. To 
 this yearly festival, which was called "the feast of the goat," the 
 people of all parts were invited, and as this extraordinary specta- 
 cle was performed in a field near the temple of Bacchus, it was 
 graduaUy introduced into the worship of that god. Hymns to the 
 deity were sung both by priests and people in chorus, while the 
 goat was sacrificing, and to these hymns the name was given of 
 Tragodia, (tragedy,) or "the song of the goat."— Mirror of Taste, 
 1 vol. p. 112.
 
 34 THE THEATRE. 
 
 and Thespis appeared, each at the head of a 
 company of actors. The first represented his 
 plays about the year 580 before Christ, and 
 the latter about 536 B. C. The comedies of 
 Susarion were in the same taste with those 
 indecent and satirical farces which were 
 afterwards performed in some of the cities of 
 Greece, according to the statement of the 
 Encyclopaedia Britannica. 
 
 The plays of Thespis were also injurious, 
 as they abounded with fictions and misrepre- 
 sentations of the ancient traditions. This 
 alarmed the wise lawgiver of Athens, who 
 condemned that species of composition. " If 
 we applaud falsehood in our public exhibi- 
 tions," said Solon to Thespis, " we shall soon 
 find that it will insinuate itself into our most 
 sacred engagements." 
 
 vEschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides next 
 appeared at the head of the drama, and are 
 said to have improved it. This improvement, 
 however, related merely to dresses, scenic 
 illusions, &c, and not to the moral ten- 
 dency of the stage. Sophocles seemed to 
 have aimed at a moral reformation more than 
 the other two. The first is said to have
 
 THETHEATRE. 35 
 
 painted men greater than they can be : not 
 more virtuous and useful, but greater in bodily 
 size and prowess, and greater in physical cou- 
 rage, and such other qualities as constituted 
 greatness, in the estimation of a corrupt and 
 heathenish mind. Sophocles is said to have 
 painted men as they ought to be, and Euripi- 
 des painted men as they are. The latter has 
 been called the philosopher of the stage. 
 Yet some of his plays tended to instil into 
 the minds of the people, the most vicious and 
 dangerous principles; for example, he incul- 
 cates perjury, and then justifies his doing so. 
 In his Hippolytus, he introduces this senti- 
 ment, "My tongue has sworn, but still my 
 mind is free." And when accused of impiety 
 for so doing, he answered his accuser thus : 
 " That it was a very unreasonable thing to 
 bring a cause into a court of judicature, which 
 belonged only to the cognizance of a theatre, 
 and the liberty of a public festival." Aris- 
 totle, who relates this circumstance, does not 
 inform us of the issue of this matter; his 
 subject not requiring it. "If," says Bayle, 
 " Euripides got off by contesting the jurisdic- 
 tion of the court, and had nothing better to
 
 36 THE THEATRE. 
 
 allege in his defence, it must be confessed his 
 cause was bad enough, and he has found 
 friends and advocates who have pleaded much 
 better for him than he did himself." Art. Eu- 
 ripides. 
 
 Although Cicero was a great admirer of 
 Euripides, and is said to have prepared him- 
 self for death by reading that poet; yet he 
 does not justify him in introducing the senti- 
 ment we are considering, but virtually con- 
 demns him. 
 
 Bayle, quoting this sentiment of Euripides, 
 says : " This is exactly the sophistry, or 
 rather the treason of mental reservations. 1 " 
 After noticing the apologies and explanations 
 which have been given by the admirers of 
 that poet, he says : " But nevertheless, the 
 maxim of Euripides, generally speaking, is a 
 very bad one. There is no sort of perjury 
 but may be excused by it. May not those 
 who use equivocations say that their heart 
 and tongue did not agree; that one swore, 
 but the other did not swear V 
 
 In another play Euripides makes Bellero- 
 phontes gravely defend and inculcate covet- 
 ousness and avarice. This excited the indig-
 
 THETHEATRE. 37 
 
 nation of all the friends of morality and vir- 
 tue. Although the sequel of the play show- 
 ed that avarice never escapes punishment, 
 " nevertheless," says Bayle, " it was to be 
 feared that certain examples, and certain dis- 
 courses, should become infectious." 
 
 Euripides, moreover, assailed and did vio- 
 lence to the religious feelings of the people; 
 particularly in his Menalippus, where he calls 
 in question the existence of their supreme 
 deity, thus, 
 
 " Jupiter, if his name be so, 
 For 'tis by hearsay only that I know." 
 
 From this circumstance he was thought by 
 many to be an atheist. He was constrained 
 to alter the above lines, so as to exclude the 
 objectionable sentiment. It is no apology 
 for this to say, that theirs were false gods, 
 and that their religion was idolatry and 
 paganism. Man is a religious being, and 
 will have some object of worship. If he be 
 ignorant of the true God, as they were, he 
 will worship false gods. The religious sense, 
 so common to man, is as clearly exhibited by 
 the worship of false gods, as of the true God; 
 4
 
 38 THE THEATRE. 
 
 and it was at this religious sense, if I may 
 use the phrase, that the satire of the poet was 
 supposed to be aimed. And unless Euripides 
 is supposed to have been favoured with a 
 knowledge of the true religion, his attack 
 must be regarded as made upon religion as 
 such, and not upon any particular system. 
 This was so understood by the people, and 
 hence they called him an atheist. I have 
 dwelt upon the character of this writer's 
 plays, because he was the most popular of all 
 the tragic writers of his age. Although the 
 palm is claimed by many for his rival, Sopho- 
 cles ; yet the popular taste has awarded it to 
 Euripides. A remarkable proof of this is 
 found in the following circumstance. The 
 Athenian army, commanded by Nicias, suffer- 
 ed all the miseries in Sicily that ill fortune can 
 inflict. The conquerors pushed the advanta- 
 ges they had gained with the utmost cruelty; 
 but how inhumanly soever they treated the 
 Athenian soldiers, they were exceeding kind 
 to all those that could repeat some of the 
 verses of Euripides to them. Many, who 
 after escaping from battle, wandered from 
 place to place, without knowing what to do,
 
 THETHEATRE. 39 
 
 found a resource by singing the verses of that 
 poet. They found means to subsist by it — 
 the people furnishing them with provisions as 
 a reward for their songs. Those who re- 
 turned in safety made this acknowledgment 
 to Euripides as the means of their deliver- 
 ance. Bayle. 
 
 It is unfair to attribute to an author as his 
 own, the sentiments he puts into the mouths 
 of actors; yet the manner of uttering vicious 
 sentiments, and the attendant circumstances, 
 are designed to afford pleasure. Although 
 the sequel of the play may exhibit the con- 
 demnation of vice ; yet the seductive arts of 
 the drama, and the fascinations of the scene, 
 create an association in the mind between 
 pleasure and vice, which has always been 
 found to be injurious to virtue. 
 
 The history of the drama fully shows that 
 even if every play held up vice to the audience, 
 as odious and detestable, and at the same 
 time, accomplished the end of amusement and 
 pleasure, yet such histrionic* exhibitions would 
 invariably tend to corrupt the morals of the 
 
 Histrionic is from histrio, the Etruscan name for actor.
 
 40 THE THEATRE. 
 
 people. There is a hidden but deleterious 
 influence which scenic representations of 
 every kind have always been found to exert 
 over the mass of the people. This seems to 
 be generally known and felt, but the great 
 amusement which the art affords, induces all 
 the lovers of pleasure, to search out arguments 
 in its defence, and apologies for its evils. This 
 will often lead a man to argue against his own 
 convictions. Selfishness is a great barrier 
 to beneficence, and most commonly triumphs 
 over it. Hence, when personal gratification 
 and the public good come in conflict, the for- 
 mer is apt to prevail with most men, except 
 on extraordinary occasions. By the public 
 good, I mean here, their moral or spiritual 
 welfare. 
 
 This is seen in nearly all the departments 
 and avocations of human life. It is therefore 
 not an uncommon thing for a man to be sa- 
 tisfied that theatrical exhibitions are perni- 
 cious in their tendency and effects, and yet 
 so strong is his desire of amusement and 
 pleasure, and so intent is he on its gratification, 
 that he will patronize the theatre; and in order 
 to relieve his conscience, and to palliate, if not
 
 THETHEATRE. 41 
 
 justify, his conduct, he will endeavour to per- 
 suade his own mind that the theatre may do 
 good — that it may become both instructive 
 and amusing. He is free to condemn what 
 he calls its abuses, and warmly contends for a 
 legitimate drama. But all this is self deception. 
 He has never witnessed the drama without its 
 abuses, in some form or other; and thus his 
 arguments for an imagined perfection of the 
 art are suffered to justify his own mind in 
 patronizing it, with all its acknowledged 
 abuses. His arguments for the stage, as it 
 should be, satisfy his mind in patronizing it as 
 it is. Thus many honest and worthy men 
 deceive themselves. 
 
 The influence of the theatre, on the mass 
 of the people, is not only injurious, but it is 
 very great. There can be no doubt but that 
 it has greatly, if not chiefly, helped to keep 
 in vogue that code of false honour which re- 
 quires a man to permit his foe to murder 
 him. The representation of ancient dramas, 
 or dramas founded on ancient history, exhi- 
 biting the sentiments and practices of a bar- 
 barous age, would very naturally have this 
 
 effect. 
 
 4*
 
 42 THE THEATRE. 
 
 Aristophanes, the comic poet, alludes to 
 the great influence of the drama, as well as 
 to the popularity of Euripides, when, in his 
 Thesmophorias, he introduces a widow who 
 obtained her living by selling holy nosegays; 
 " but," says she, " since Euripides, by his 
 impious verses, has persuaded the people that 
 there are no gods, I sell hardly any thing 
 at all." 
 
 Euripides is viewed, by some of the most 
 zealous advocates of the stage, in the same 
 light in which he is here represented. Schle- 
 gel, a German critic, and an enthusiast in 
 behalf of the theatre, who lectured at Vienna 
 on dramatic literature, says: We feel it to 
 be an indispensable duty to point out the de- 
 fects of Euripides, because the present age is 
 subject to the same failings by which the 
 Athenian poet acquired popularity. The 
 modern theatre abounds in plays which, 
 though greatly inferior to those of Euripides, 
 have this striking resemblance to them : that 
 while they enervate the mind by effeminate 
 sentiments, they inspire religious incredulity. 
 It is further said, that with masterly skill he 
 developes the weaknesses of a heart enslaved
 
 THETHEATRE. 43 
 
 by passion, and a prey to the fury of love; 
 but he is shamefully lax in every principle of 
 morality, and readily sacrifices both religion 
 and virtue to a brilliant expression, or a 
 striking situation.* 
 
 Euripides was not alone in his profane 
 attacks upon religion. JEschylus came nigh 
 being stoned to death for the impiety of some 
 of his pieces, and was saved only by the 
 interference of his brother Amynias, who 
 had been maimed at the battle of Salamis, 
 where he signalized himself above all the 
 Athenians. Just as they were on the point 
 of stoning ^Eschylus, Amynias turned up his 
 sleeve, and showed the people that he had 
 lost a hand in the service of the common- 
 wealth. The judges, in consideration of his 
 valour, and the friendship he expressed for his 
 brother, exercised mercy towards yEschylus. 
 Baylct 
 
 * See London Quarteily Review, vol. 12, p. 19G. 
 
 t jEschylus was so incensed at the ingratitude of the mob, and 
 the slight they put upon him, that he retired into Sicily, where he 
 is said to have lost his life by a most singular accident. Having 
 wandered into the fields, an eagle, which had mounted into the air 
 with a tortoise, for the purpose of dropping it upon a rock, in order 
 to break the shell, mistaking the bald head of ^Eschylus for a 
 stone, let the animal fall upon it, and killed him on the spot.
 
 44 THE THEATRE. 
 
 "The comedy, as conducted by Aristo- 
 phanes and his contemporaries," says Smith, 
 in his Festival and Games, " was infinitely 
 below our modern farces, and indeed hardly 
 upon a par with our ancient mysteries and 
 moralities, abounding as it did in vulgar, 
 indecent reflections, and illiberal satire, and 
 employing, by turns, parody, allegorical 
 images, buffoonery, and travesties, in which 
 the gods and heroes were rendered ridiculous 
 by the contrast between their mean disguise 
 and their real dignity. It appears as if the 
 Athenians were jealous of their deities in 
 proportion to their contemptible character 
 and utter worthlessness; for though they 
 resented, with a fierce intolerance, any real 
 or imaginary affront directed against them in 
 the form of serious argument, they delighted 
 in seeing them lampooned and burlesqued, 
 indulging in immoderate laughter, when the 
 irreverent farces that bore the names of Bac- 
 chus and Hercules exposed the excessive pol- 
 troonery of the former, and the enormous 
 voracity of the latter. To pander to the 
 taste of the vulgar, the most celebrated 
 authors sometimes furnished their actors
 
 THE THEATRE. 45 
 
 with indecorous dresses and expressions, and 
 sometimes put into their mouths, virulent 
 invectives against individuals, not only men- 
 tioning their names, but imitating their fea- 
 tures on the actor's mask. Thus were Euri- 
 pides, Socrates, and others, persecuted by 
 Aristophanes, the same audiences crowning 
 the tragedies of the former, and the farcical 
 burlesques into which they were turned by 
 the latter.'' 
 
 It is said that attempts were made by de- 
 crees, to repress the abuses of the stage at 
 this period, but they were found to be inef- 
 fectual. 
 
 At length, by a new enactment, those who 
 were reviled publicly on the stage, obtained 
 redress in a court of justice. This has been 
 called a reformation of the stage. But what 
 did it amount to? Perhaps the grosser forms 
 of licentiousness, ridicule, and defamation of 
 character, the choruses of birds, and wasps, 
 and the croaking of frogs, were banished 
 from the stage; but no essentially moral 
 reformation was effected. Licentiousness 
 became more refined and seductive in its 
 appearance, and the forbidding aspect of
 
 46 THE THEATRE. 
 
 vice, was exchanged for one less calculated 
 to awaken suspicion or disgust, while the 
 poison of vice still remained. 
 
 Menander, who flourished about three hun- 
 dred years before Christ, was called the 
 prince of the new comedy in Greece, because 
 he excelled in delicacy, regularity, and deco- 
 rum. He, and his contemporaries, Philemon, 
 Diphilus, Pollodorus, Philippides, and Posi- 
 dippus, seemed to have decried, with great 
 boldness, the vice and immorality of the age 
 in which they lived. 
 
 Menander was held in great estimation 
 while he lived. But it is no equivocal evi- 
 dence of the extent to which the drama had 
 corrupted the people, that out of eighty plays, 
 (some say more,) which he wrote, he obtain- 
 ed but eight prizes. 
 
 Dancing was very early introduced upon 
 the Grecian stage, and was disgraced by a 
 licentiousness so gross, that even Aristo- 
 phanes made a merit of banishing it from his 
 pieces. 
 
 The immoral tendency of the drama is 
 strikingly manifested by the extent to which 
 an actor will go in trampling upon the ten-
 
 THETHEATRE. 47 
 
 derest and most sacred affections of our 
 nature, merely for the purpose of producing 
 effect. 
 
 In one of the tragedies of Sophocles, the 
 princess Electra embraces the urn which she 
 imagines to contain the ashes of her brother 
 Orestes. It is related of Polus, the Athenian 
 player, that in acting the part of Electra, 
 (for there were no female performers at that 
 time,) he caused the urn containing the re- 
 mains of a son whom he had lately lost, to be 
 brought from his tomb, and when it was 
 presented to him upon the stage, he seized it 
 with a trembling hand, and taking it in his 
 arms, pressed it to his heart, uttering accents 
 of such lively grief, so moving and so fear- 
 fully expressive, that the whole theatre re- 
 sounded with exclamations; and the specta- 
 tors shed torrents of tears in commiseration 
 of the unhappy fate of the son, and the 
 wretched condition of the father. Smith. 
 
 What generous and honourable heart is 
 not shocked at such a recital! What an 
 expedient to gain popular applause! What 
 a comment upon the dangerous tendency of 
 the stage!
 
 48 THETHEATRE. 
 
 Such violence to natural affection, how- 
 ever, was not peculiar to the ancient drama- 
 tists. So late as 1779, we find an instance, 
 and we presume it is not an isolated one, 
 where the most sacred of all the social feel- 
 ings are outraged, and that too by a woman, 
 from whose sex we naturally expect better 
 things. That a woman could so far forget 
 and disregard even that outward respect to 
 her own feelings, which the decencies of life 
 require her to manifest, is abundant proof of 
 the debasing and demoralizing tendency of 
 the stage. The instance we allude to is this. 
 On the Gth of June, 1779, Mr. Inchbald, a 
 player, died suddenly at Leeds, (England,) 
 and on the 21st of June, 1779, only two 
 weeks after, we find Mrs. Inchbald throwing 
 aside her weeds, and playing the part of 
 Hector's lovely widow, for the benefit of Mr. 
 Kemble. It is an aggravating circumstance, 
 that she should have performed a part which 
 would inevitably open afresh the wounds, (if 
 there were any,) which her recent loss had 
 made. 
 
 Go, ask the mourning widow, as she weeps 
 with her more than orphan children, if she
 
 THE THEATRE. 49 
 
 can appreciate the cold indifference, the 
 deadened sensibilities, which the above fact 
 discloses? Ask her if she will send her 
 orphans to the theatre to be refined and ele- 
 vated, in point of moral feeling? 
 
 When the performances were concluded, 
 it was customary for different bodies of ma- 
 gistrates to ascend the stage and make liba- 
 tions on an altar consecrated to Bacchus. 
 This was done professedly for the purpose of 
 elevating the character of theatrical enter- 
 tainments, by impressing upon them that of 
 sanctity. This reminds one of the expedient 
 resorted to in modern times, to uphold the 
 character of the theatre, by calling it the 
 school of virtue and good morals. This at- 
 tempt, however, to associate the obscenities 
 and profanity of the stage, with purity and 
 virtue, is both ludicrous and vain. 
 
 With this notice of the Bacchanalian ter- 
 mination of the Grecian drama, we will turn 
 to the examination of the Roman, which was 
 chiefly borrowed from the former. It was 
 introduced at Rome in the year of the city 
 391. Their theatrical entertainments origi- 
 nally consisted of but little more than dances 
 5
 
 50 THE THEATRE. 
 
 to the sound of a flute, without either singing 
 or acting. No attempt to represent a regu- 
 lar play was made till the year of the city 
 572. The drama, we may suppose, still re- 
 tained its essential characteristics, and ten- 
 dencies to evil; for a law was soon enacted, 
 declaring the profession of an actor to be 
 infamous, and depriving those who practised 
 it, of the rights of citizens. 
 
 The story of the unfortunate Laberius ex- 
 hibits, in a strong point of view, the odium 
 which was attached to the profession of an 
 actor among the Romans. Compelled by 
 Csesar, at an advanced age, to appear on the 
 stage to recite some of his own works, he felt 
 his character, as a Roman citizen, insulted 
 and disgraced ; and in some affecting verses, 
 spoken on the occasion, he incensed the au- 
 dience against the tyrant, by whose com- 
 mand he was obliged to appear before them. 
 " After having lived," said he, " sixty years 
 with honour, I left my house this morning a 
 Roman knight, but shall return to it this 
 evening an infamous stage-player. Alas! I 
 have lived a day too long." 
 
 The dramatic productions of the Augus-
 
 THE THEATRE. 51 
 
 tan age have wholly perished, and we cannot, 
 therefore, determine positively their moral 
 character. The Roman comedy was, at first, 
 wholly borrowed from the Greeks, and it was 
 long before the Latin stage could boast of 
 an original composition. The Roman stage 
 greatly degenerated soon after the fall of the 
 republic, which catastrophe has been attri- 
 buted to the corrupting influence of the stage 
 itself. In the reign of Tiberius, the players 
 were banished from Italy altogether, for they 
 engendered so many brawls and riots, not 
 unfrequently terminating in bloodshed, that 
 they became a public nuisance. From this 
 blow, says Smith in his Festivals and Games, 
 the regular drama never recovered; but the 
 dancers and buffoons gradually returned to, 
 and usurped the stage, of which they thence- 
 forward kept undisputed possession. 
 
 As to the tragedy of the Romans, Schlegel 
 says, it is almost certain that no original 
 tragedy was ever composed in the Latin lan- 
 guage. 
 
 After the play, says Smith, amateurs per- 
 formed a farce, termed an Atellane comedy, 
 wherein the actors composed an extempora-
 
 52 THE THEATRE. 
 
 neous dialogue, which often degenerated into 
 gross ribaldry. Between the acts were gene- 
 rally introduced interludes of tumbling, rope- 
 dancing, and pantomimical representations, 
 which, as the public taste became more and 
 more corrupt by theatrical representations, 
 superseded what is termed the regular drama. 
 The Emperor Galba is said to have had an 
 elephant which walked upon a rope stretched 
 across the theatre, and similar exhibitions 
 doubtless formed a part of the entertainments 
 of the occasion. If this was a sign of the 
 decline of what is called the regular drama 
 among the Romans, we are justified in infer- 
 ring that it is also on the wane with us. 
 
 Dancing formed a part then, as it does 
 now, of theatrical amusements. Professed 
 dancers, says Smith, used castanets, playing 
 them in unison with the music, as still prac- 
 tised in many parts of the continent. It ap- 
 pears that the chief female dancers, con- 
 tinues Smith, were Spaniards, of the province 
 of Andalusia, and that their mode of exhibi- 
 tion was then as remarkable as now for its 
 voluptuousness. Hence it has been conjec- 
 tured that the same fandango and bolero
 
 THE THEATRE. 53 
 
 which charm the present audiences of Madrid, 
 once delighted the inhabitants of ancient 
 Rome.* 
 
 We would here pause, and ask the advo- 
 cates of the theatre, whether or not, they 
 will make the Greek and Roman stage, the 
 standard by which to determine the "legi- 
 timate drama?" It seems incredible that 
 any one can look upon the classical drama, 
 even in its best estate, and gravely pronounce 
 it the school of virtue, and the patron of 
 sound morality. The most zealous defenders 
 of the theatre in modern times, have not hesi- 
 tated to condemn it. The London Quarterly 
 Review, (vol. 12. p. 127,) says, " we content 
 ourselves with proclaiming our total disap- 
 probation of the licentiousness which polluted 
 the Grecian comedies, as well as of the cus- 
 tom which prevailed, of exposing the most 
 respectable characters in the state, to the 
 scoffs and derision of the populace." It is 
 true, that the Review attributes these defects 
 to the age and to the system ; yet all we are 
 now seeking for, is the fact that the Grecian 
 
 * Festivals, Games, &c, by Horatio Smith, Esq., pp. 51, 52.
 
 54 THE THEATRE. 
 
 drama was licentious; and here is the admis- 
 sion of it by a friend of the theatre; we are 
 not seeking apologies, and if we were, these 
 would confirm, rather than disprove the fact. 
 Before quoting this Review any further on 
 this point, and for the purpose of allaying 
 any suspicion that it is unfriendly to the the- 
 atre, we give a note on page 134 of vol. 12. 
 " We live in an age of pedantic affectation, 
 and exaggerated sensibility. A spirit of puri- 
 fication is gone abroad, which would inter- 
 dict the most innocent pleasures, and substi- 
 tute the amusement of sighing and groaning, 
 for the elegant and rational entertainments of 
 the theatre." By this back-handed blow at 
 pure religion, and this bold advocacy of the 
 theatre, the reader may be prepared to re- 
 ceive all that this Review has to say against 
 the theatre, without even one grain of allow- 
 ance. On pages 252, 253 of vol. 17, this 
 Review says ; " The basis of ancient tragedy 
 is mythology — and that mythology, long ex- 
 ploded, can now scarcely afford a striking 
 illustration to the theme of a school-boy, 
 much less a popular subject for tragedy; 
 what, according to Gibbon, was viewed by
 
 THE THEATRE. 55 
 
 contemporary philosophers with cold and 
 jealous scepticism, is viewed by modern rea- 
 ders with incredulous disdain. This mytho- 
 logy, always offensive to reason, cannot be 
 considered entitled to much respect for its 
 morality. The gods who (always visibly 
 present) constitute the whole materiel of the 
 drama, are beings whom, as mortal, we 
 should feel disposed to execrate, and whom 
 their rank of deity only makes us view with 
 greater horror. They are all malignant, 
 vindictive, and meanly jealous of their pre- 
 scriptive privilege of sacrifice and worship; 
 in passion they are below r mortals, in power 
 they are fatally superior to them. In this 
 system, religion and morality are completely 
 disjoined; — the deities frequently impel to 
 the commission of the most atrocious crimes, 
 and their anger is never excited by the breach 
 of moral duties.'''' " The gods of the Greek 
 drama are so intently occupied in aggrava- 
 ting the miseries of human existence, that 
 they seem never to have time or inclination 
 to afford their victims, or their favourites, a 
 hope of expiation or relief from futurity. 
 This, it may be said, was their national
 
 56 THE THEATRE. 
 
 creed — granted; but does not the concession 
 aggravate the difficulty, by proving a total 
 want of the sensibility, not only of poetical 
 justice, but of moral feeling, in both the au- 
 thor and the audience ? All around the per-* 
 sonages of their tragedies is suffering — all 
 beyond them is darkness. In a word, the 
 Greek drama presents an actual moral des- 
 ert, without one fertile spot to cheer the tra- 
 veller; not even a mirage to allure him by its 
 seductive brilliancy." 
 
 We presume that the ancient drama may 
 now be dismissed as confessedly corrupt in 
 its morality, and corrupting in its influence. 
 We apprehend that a similar verdict may 
 with justice be pronounced against the mo- 
 dern. This will appear by noticing still fur- 
 ther the progress of the art. 
 
 " The Arabians and Persians," says Schle- 
 gel, in his lectures on dramatic literature, 
 " though possessed of a rich poetical litera- 
 ture, are unacquainted with any sort of 
 drama. It was the same with Europe in the 
 middle ages. On the introduction of Christi- 
 anity, the plays handed down among the 
 Greeks and Romans were abolished, partly
 
 THETHEATRE. 57 
 
 from their reference to heathen ideas, and 
 partly because they had degenerated into 
 the most impudent and indecent immorality; 
 and they were not again revived till after the 
 lapse of nearly a thousand years." " We 
 are by no means entitled to assume, that the 
 invention of the drama has only once taken 
 place in the world; or that it has always 
 been borrowed by one people from another." 
 Schlegel then goes on to show, that several 
 nations have each an original drama. 
 
 We shall not discuss the question : When 
 did the drama first appear in modern Europe? 
 This is foreign from our purpose. The 
 English and Spanish drama is original, and 
 wholly unlike that of the ancient Grecian. 
 It has been called the romantic drama, in 
 contradistinction to the classical, which the 
 Italians first, and after them the French, 
 have made the model of their drama. We 
 do not profess to give a complete history of 
 the art, but only such an outline of it as will 
 be sufficient to show its moral tendency, and 
 its effects upon the habits and characters 
 of men. 
 
 An historical notice of the English stage
 
 58 THE THEATRE. 
 
 will serve to show, that although its literary 
 character and style are different from the 
 ancient classical drama, ) r et its moral cha- 
 racter and tendency are the same. Injury to 
 the morals of the people seems to be the 
 invariable, if not necessary, effect of all 
 scenic representations.
 
 THE THEATRE. 59 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF THE DRAMA CONTINUED. 
 
 vji? It is impossible to date the origin of the 
 drama in England. It certainly existed nearly 
 as far back as the conquest. It is mentioned 
 by William Fitz-Stephen, a monk of Canter- 
 bury, in his " Descriptio nobilissimai Civita- 
 tis Londoniae," written soon after the year 
 1170. "London, instead of common inter- 
 ludes belonging to the theatres, has plays of 
 a more holy subject: representations of those 
 miracles which the holy confessors wrought, 
 or of the sufferings, wherein the glorious con- 
 stancy of the martyrs did appear." The first 
 play of this kind is supposed to be that called 
 St. Catherine, written by Geofrey, a Norman, 
 about the year 1110, and performed in the 
 Abbey at Dunstable. These led the way to 
 Scripture plays, in which God the Father, the 
 blessed Saviour, the Virgin Mary, the twelve 
 Apostles, &c„ were the leading charac-
 
 60 THE THEATRE. 
 
 ters.* These mysteries, as they are called, are 
 of very ancient date. Gregory of Nazianzen, 
 who flourished towards the close of the fourth 
 century, is said to have persuaded the people 
 
 * It is a remarkable fact that both the ancient and modern 
 drama originated in religion. But it is still more remarkable that 
 in both instances, the subjects of the drama were substantially the 
 same, and in both instances, the plays were called " Mysteries." 
 Dr. M'Culloh, in his Philosophical and Antiquarian researches, 
 &c, p. 486, says "The mysteries of Isis, of Eleusis, &c, at a 
 comparatively modern time, were imported into Greece; and when 
 this people began to babble publicly concerning their secret assem- 
 blies, they had not only appropriated the mysterious practices or 
 doctrines to their own motley system of theology, but they had 
 also perverted the mysterious meeting into a convenience for 
 debauchery and licentiousness." 
 
 After quoting Warburton, Bryant, and Faber, in regard to the 
 purport of these mysteries, the Doctor proceeds : 
 
 I am inclined, therefore, after benefitting by the observations of 
 these great writers, to consider myself justified in stating, that 
 they have each proved but parts of the system. I consider the 
 mysteries, originally, to have been entirely religious in the insti- 
 tution, and that the doctrines taught in them were for the most 
 part represented scenically. If they commenced with teaching 
 the origin of religious obligations, they would begin with the 
 generation of mankind, with the history of the fall, the general 
 corruption of our race, the deluge of Noah, and the consequent 
 regeneration of our species. Such doctrinal truths are essentially 
 connected with the history of individuals prominent in the ancient 
 history of the world. Together with these facts, they communi- 
 cated all the abstract matters of their credence, and such moral 
 sentiments as would make men wiser and better. The next stage 
 would be to show the consequence of a virtuous or vicious life,
 
 THE THEATRE. Gl 
 
 of Byzantium to represent on their theatre, 
 some chosen stories of the Old and New Tes- 
 tament, and to banish from their stage the 
 profane compositions of Sophocles and Euri- 
 
 which we feel justified to assert positively, was done by scenical 
 representations of Hades, Tartarus, and the Elysian fields. In the 
 introduction of such matters, an almost boundless field was given 
 to men of genius and intellectual apprehensions. 
 
 When the " mysteries" were the only dramatic performances 
 in England, representations of hell were a part of them. The 
 stage then, as is still the custom at Pekin, consisted of three dis- 
 tinct platforms raised one above another; on the uppermost sat 
 the Pater Cmleslis, surrounded with his angels; on the second 
 appeared the glorified saints; and the lowest was occupied by 
 mere men, who had not yet quitted "the smoke and stir of this 
 dim spot." On one side of this lowest platform was the resem- 
 blance of a dark and pitchy cavern, whence issued the appearance of 
 fire and flames; and, when necessary, the audience were stunned 
 by hideous yellings, imitative of the bowlings of wretched souls, 
 tormented by relentless demons, who frequently ascended through 
 the mouth of the cavern, to delight the spectators with their buf- 
 fooneries, and to instruct them, by their remorseless cruelty to the 
 condemned, carefully to shun the commission of such crimes, as 
 might plunge themselves into a similar predicament. In an im- 
 proved state of the theatre, when regular plays were introduced, 
 the cavern, with its concomitant, though heterogeneous mixture 
 of horror and mummery, was abolished; the uppermost platform, 
 and its celestial persona also disappeared, two platforms only re- 
 maining, which continued in use a considerable time ; the upper 
 one serving for galleries, ramparts, or any other elevated situation, 
 from which some of the actors might discourse with others, stand- 
 ing on the lower one, now called the stage. — Pock. Enc, art. Dram. 
 
 In a note appended to the above extract from Dr. M'Culloh's 
 
 6
 
 62 THETHEATRE. 
 
 pides. The Jews, themselves, had the stories 
 of the Old Testament exhibited in the dra- 
 matic form ; part of a Jewish piece on the 
 subject of Exodus is preserved in Greek iam- 
 bics, written by one Ezekiel, who styles him- 
 self the poet of the Hebrews.* 
 
 Religious plays were introduced into France 
 as early as the time of Charlemagne. It ap- 
 pears that some time in the seventh century, 
 
 learned work, he adds, "I am persuaded from an examination of 
 the institutions of antiquity, that tragedy and the drama arose 
 from the scenical representations exhibited in the mysteries. 
 The Greeks, indeed, attributed their origin to the rural celebra- 
 tions of the sacrifices of Dionysius or Bacchus. This I am not 
 disposed to deny may have been the exciting cause of popular 
 dramatic representations; because the subjects exhibited in the 
 mysteries were religious, and were forbidden to be revealed to 
 the uninitiated. But the obvious machinery by which the reli- 
 gious scenical exhibitions were executed, was the cause that an 
 application was made of the same instrumentalities in representing 
 popular and familiar subjects." 
 
 " Theatres were supposed to be under the protection of Dio- 
 nysius, and were from him called Aioevsiaxa (dionusiaka). 
 (Potter's Greek Antiq. I. 41.) And we are further informed by 
 Diod. Sic. Lib. 4. chap. I., that Dionysius or Bacchus invented 
 plays and erected theatres. 
 
 Thi3 information is in exact accordance with what is observed 
 above; for the mysteries of Dionysius were among the most re- 
 nowned celebrations of the Greeks." 
 
 * Hawkins's Origin of English Drama, p. 5.
 
 THE THEATRE. G3 
 
 France began to imitate the Roman drama, 
 in the same rude form that the Romans had 
 before imitated that of the Greeks. The 
 gross licentiousness of their performances, 
 however, alarmed Charlemagne, and he is- 
 sued an order to suppress them. 
 
 Although Charlemagne could silence the 
 players, yet as an advocate of the stage re- 
 marks, he could not extinguish the passion 
 they had inspired, nor divert the people from 
 their beloved dramatic amusements: being 
 deprived of them on account of religion, they 
 resolved to resort to religion for a substitute ; 
 the priests, alive to their own interests, 
 readily consented, and like the priests of Bac- 
 chus at Attica, suffered their churches to be 
 converted into theatres. The priests them- 
 selves, not unfrequently joined in the per- 
 formance as actors, and sometimes as ac- 
 tresses, sinking the sanctity of their office in 
 the dissipation of histrionic revelry. Yet dis- 
 gustful to taste and feeling, subversive of re- 
 ligion and morality, and disgraceful to all 
 who were concerned in them, as these spec- 
 tacles were, they continued to be the fa- 
 vourite entertainment of that people for four
 
 64 THETHEATRE. 
 
 hundred years. In the twelfth century, Sulli, 
 bishop of Paris, formally anathematized them ; 
 but so inveterately were the people infected 
 with a passion for them, and so effectually 
 had the sense of religion been obliterated by 
 that foul union of ludicrousness and obscenity 
 with things most solemn and sacred, that the 
 people slighted the thunders of the very altar 
 itself, and persevered, though in a mitigated 
 degree, in the enjoyment of their sacred 
 farces. A new era in the drama then arose: 
 crusading, pilgrimage, and holy warfare now 
 supplied subjects for their plays.* 
 
 These mysteries were introduced into 
 France by the pilgrims from the Holy Land. 
 Menestrier in his Ancient and Modern Mu- 
 sical Representations, says, these pilgrims 
 " composed songs on their travels, mixing 
 with them a recital of the life and death of the 
 Son of God, or of the last judgment, after a 
 gross manner, but which the singing and sim- 
 plicity of the times seem to render pathetic: 
 they sung the miracles of saints, their mar- 
 tyrdom, and certain fables, to which the cre- 
 
 » Mirror of Taste, 2 vol. pp. 402, 403.
 
 THE THEATRE. 65 
 
 dulity of the people gave the name of visions 
 and apparitions. These pilgrims, who went 
 in companies, and who took their stands in 
 streets and public places, where they sung 
 with their staves in their hands, and their 
 hats and mantles covered with shells and 
 painted images of divers colours, formed a 
 kind of spectacle which pleased, and which 
 excited some citizens of Paris to raise a fund 
 for purchasing a proper place to erect a the- 
 atre, on which to represent these mysteries 
 on holy days, as well for the instruction of 
 the people as their diversion." These mys- 
 teries did not cease to be represented in 
 France till prohibited by the parliament of 
 Paris in 1548. This religious drama became 
 common throughout all Christendom, particu- 
 larly in those places where religious pilgrim- 
 ages were patronized. The French at length 
 judged these mysteries to be too serious, and 
 some time before the reign of Francis the 
 First, scenes were introduced from profane 
 and burlesque subjects, which gave great 
 amusement. These went by the general 
 name of " fooleries," and were usually per- 
 formed by the children of Sans Souci, the 
 6*
 
 66 THE THEATRE. 
 
 name of a dramatic company, the chief of 
 whom was called the " prince of fools." 
 
 The Acts of the Apostles were dramatized, 
 and acted at Paris in 1541. The author 
 very often brings devils on the stage, which, 
 says Bayle, instead of inspiring horror, is 
 more fit to excite laughter. This, continues 
 Bayle, will suffice to inform us, that at the 
 same time that the people were forbidden to 
 see the sacred stories in the Book, which 
 contains them faithfully and in purity, they 
 were allowed to see them on the stage, sul- 
 lied with a thousand gross inventions, most 
 part of which were expressed after a low 
 manner, and in the style of a farce-player.* 
 No other species of drama was known at 
 Rome and Florence in the thirteenth and 
 fourteenth centuries. But to return to the 
 English stage. A play was performed at 
 Skinner's Well, near Smithfield, in the reign 
 of Henry TV. which lasted eight days, begin- 
 ning with the creation of the world, and con- 
 taining the greater part of the history of the 
 Old and New Testament. A play entitled 
 
 * Bayle, art. Chocquet.
 
 THE THEATRE. 67 
 
 " Corpus Christi," or " Ludus Coventriss," 
 (transcripts of which, made nearly coeval 
 with the time when it was performed, are yet 
 preserved,) begins with the creation, and ends 
 with the last judgment. 
 
 These mysteries were performed in the 
 churches on Sunday, and the actors were chief- 
 ly, if not wholly, the clergy. In the year 1378, 
 the masters and scholars of St. Paul's school, 
 presented a petition to Richard II. praying 
 him " to prohibit some unexpert people from 
 presenting the history of the Old Testament, 
 to the great prejudice of the said clergy, who 
 have been at great expense in order to repre- 
 sent it publicly at Christmas." "Notwith- 
 standing the seriousness of the subjects se- 
 lected for these performances," says Smith, 
 in his Festivals and Games, " and the sacred 
 character of the building in which they were 
 usually displayed, it seems clear that they 
 were not exhibited without a portion of pan- 
 tomimical fun, to make them palatable to the 
 vulgar taste ; and indeed the length and dul- 
 ness of the speeches required some such as- 
 sistance to enliven them, though they were in 
 general much shorter than the modern plays.
 
 68 THE THEATRE. 
 
 Beelzebub was the principal comic actor, as- 
 sisted by his merry troop of under-devils, who 
 with a variety of voices, strange gestures, and 
 contortions of the body, excited the laughter 
 of the populace. ' It was a pretty part in the 
 old church-plays,' says Harsenet in his Decla- 
 ration of Popish Impostures, 1603, 'When the 
 nimble Vice would skip up like a jackanapes 
 into the devil's neck, and ride the devil a 
 course; and belabour him with his wooden 
 dagger till he made him roar ; whereat the 
 people would laugh to see the devil so vice- 
 haunted.' " 
 
 Cibber, who was a player, in his Apology 
 for his Life, says " these pieces were exhibited 
 in a manner so ridiculous as to favour liber- 
 tinism and infidelity. The London Quarterly 
 Review (vol. 17., p. 249. n.) says, " they 
 taught little but licentiousness and impiety, 
 and the sacred names which they use, instead 
 of consecrating, aggravate the profanation." 
 
 The religious drama continued in England 
 till after the Reformation, and became highly 
 controversial in its character. " At the Re- 
 formation," says the London Quarterly Re- 
 view, (vol. 17, p. 249,) " the teachers of the
 
 THE THEATRE, 69 
 
 new religion, though professing and generally 
 maintaining a greater strictness of demean- 
 our, attempted to wrest this powerful engine 
 from the hands of their adversaries, and to 
 turn it against them ; and controversy, after 
 deluging every other department of literature, 
 forced its way even into the indirect and im- 
 practicable channel of the drama. The come- 
 dies of Bale exhibited the most awful myste- 
 ries of religion clothed in the dark drapery of 
 Calvinistic theology, and the audience, with 
 edifying patience, sat out dramas, which ex- 
 tended from Adam to the commencement of 
 the Gospel dispensation, and of which the 
 characters were those whom it would now 
 be justly deemed impiety to allude to on the 
 stage, and irreverence even to name on ordi- 
 nary occasions." 
 
 Thomas Naogeorgus composed several tra- 
 gedies of this controversial character. Such 
 is that which he entitled, " Pammachius," 
 which he dedicated to Archbishop Cranmer : 
 the prologue of which begins thus, 
 
 Quid adferamus si vacat cognoscere 
 Spectatores, paucis exponam singula: 
 Pammachium, qui Ronianus est Episcopus, 
 Evangelicaj doctrinae cepit tsedium.
 
 70 THETHEATRE. 
 
 Which has been translated thus : 
 
 Of our intended feast, Sirs, by your leave, 
 We beg you'll first a bill of fare receive. 
 Pammachius, bishop of Rome's pampered see, 
 Is surfeited with Christianity. 
 
 It became so common, in the early days of 
 the Reformation, for the partizans of the Ro- 
 man Catholic, and of the Protestant Church 
 also, to defend and illustrate their tenets by 
 dramatic representations, that in an act of 
 parliament made 24th of Henry VIII., for the 
 promoting of true religion, we find a clause 
 restraining all rimors or players from singing 
 in songs, or playing in interludes, any thing 
 that should contradict the established doc- 
 trines. 
 
 In the reign of Edward VI. the pulpits of 
 England being, by proclamation, shut against 
 controversies, the stage soon became the 
 arena of theological contention. To remedy 
 this evil, a proclamation was issued against 
 the theatre, of which Fuller, in his history of 
 the Church, gives the following account: 
 
 " The pulpit, thus shut and silent by pro- 
 clamation, the stage was more open and 
 vocal for the same; the popish priests (which
 
 THE THEATRE. 71 
 
 though unseen) stood behind the hanging, or 
 lurking in the tiring-house, removed their 
 invectives from sermons to plays, and a more 
 proper place indeed for the venting thereof. 
 Here it made old sport, to see the new reli- 
 gion, as they term it, made ridiculous, with 
 the prime patrons thereof, which caused the 
 ensuing proclamation for the prohibition: 
 
 "A proclamation for the Inhibition of Play- 
 ers, aimo tertio Edvardi sexti, Augusti 6. 
 
 " Forasmuch as a great number of those 
 that be common players of interludes and 
 plays, as well within the city of London, or 
 elsewhere, within the realm, do for the most 
 part play such interludes as contain matter 
 tending to sedition, and contemning of sun- 
 dry good orders and laws; whereupon are 
 grown upon, and daily are like to grow and 
 ensue, much disquiet, division, tumults, and 
 uproars in this realm; the King's majesty, by 
 the advice and consent of his dearest uncle, 
 Edward duke of Somerset, governor of his 
 person, and protector of his realms, domi- 
 nions, and subjects, and the rest of his High- 
 ness' privy council, straitly chargeth and 
 commandeth all and every his Majesty's sub-
 
 72 THE THEATRE. 
 
 jects, of whatsoever state, order, or degree 
 they he, that from the ninth day of this present 
 month of August, until the Feast of All Saints 
 next coming, they, nor any of them, openly, 
 or secretly, play in the English tongue any 
 kind of interlude, play, dialogue, or other 
 matter, set forth in form of play, in any place, 
 public or private, within this realm, upon pain 
 that whosoever shall play in English any 
 such play, interlude, dialogue, or other matter, 
 shall suffer imprisonment, and further punish- 
 ment, at the pleasure of his Majesty."* 
 
 As an improvement on the mysteries, ano- 
 ther species of the drama was introduced 
 called Moralities, in which were some rude 
 traces of a fable and a moral, and some of 
 poetry also; virtues, vices, and other affec- 
 tions, being often personified. These plays 
 were allegorical in their character, and con- 
 sisted of moral reasoning in praise of virtue, 
 and condemnation of vice. 
 
 The characters were such as " Good Doc- 
 trine," "Charity," "Faith," "Prudence," "Dis- 
 cretion," " Death," and the like. 
 
 * Fuller's Ch. Hist. Lib. VII. 3 Edward VI.
 
 THE THEATRE. 73 
 
 The province of making merriment for the 
 spectators, says Smith, descended from the 
 devil in the mysteries, to the Vice or Iniquity 
 in the moralities, who usually personified some 
 bad quality ; and even when the regular tra- 
 gedies and comedies were introduced, we 
 may trace the descendants of this facetious 
 personage in the clowns and fools by which 
 they were so frequently disgraced. 
 
 That this motley fool, continues Smith, 
 should be admitted into the finest tragedies of 
 Shakespeare, only proves how indispensable 
 it had been rendered by the false taste of the 
 age. 
 
 Every apologist of the theatre is disposed to 
 attribute those evils of the drama, which he 
 is constrained to acknowledge as such, to the 
 bad taste of the age, rather than to the na- 
 ture of all scenic exhi bitions. In every age and 
 condition of its existence, even the advocates 
 of the drama have had occasion to find fault 
 with it ; yet the age, has had thrown upon its 
 broad shoulders, all the blame. The dramatic 
 system, abstractly considered, is always ac- 
 quitted. This looks very much like upholding 
 a system, in spite of every valid objection 
 
 7
 
 74 THE THEATRE. 
 
 against it. A system invariably found to 
 work evil, agreeably to the admissions of its 
 advocates, must be radically unsound and 
 ruinous. Such we believe to be the case 
 with regard to all dramatic exhibitions. It 
 is not merely with this particular play, or 
 that specified performance, that we find fault. 
 We go against the whole system, as such. 
 We condemn it as corrupting to the morals, 
 and injurious to the well-being of the commu- 
 nity. W r e freely admit that, to the lovers of 
 pleasure, it has very many and great attrac- 
 tions. But this increases the danger of evil, 
 in proportion to its charms. "We admit also, 
 that some are less injured by frequenting the 
 theatre, than others. We admit, too, that 
 some estimable and moral characters occa- 
 sionally attend the theatre. But this does not 
 weigh a feather against the mass of evidence 
 furnished by friends and foes, that its tenden- 
 cy is to licentiousness and immorality. The 
 arguments against the stage outweigh all the 
 examples in favour of it. But, to return from 
 this digression. 
 
 These moralities, though chiefly written on 
 moral subjects, were not unfrequently devoted
 
 THE THEATRE. 75 
 
 to religious purposes, which was then the 
 paramount object of attention. 
 
 The London Quarterly Review, (vol. 17. 
 p. 249,) calls the connexion of the drama with 
 religious purposes, an "extraordinary coales- 
 cence, into which the tragic muse seems to 
 have entered somewhat ungracefully." In 
 connexion with this, are the following just 
 remarks : " The very means which her reve- 
 rend teachers took to break her to their pur- 
 pose, tended, (as might have been foreseen,) 
 to defeat it. To accommodate the drama to 
 popular conception, they had to mingle the 
 narratives of Scripture, with the incidents of 
 ordinary life; and the language of inspiration, 
 with the refuse of colloquial abuse, and de- 
 praved idiom — hence their representations 
 were without dignity, and their morality with- 
 out effect." Here is an important concession 
 furnished by a zealous defender of the drama, 
 that in order " to accommodate it to popular 
 conception," it must have mingled with its 
 loftier style, " the refuse of colloquial abuse, 
 and depraved idiom." If this be necessary, in 
 order to accommodate it to popular concep- 
 tion, then the stage, in order to be popular
 
 76 THETHEATRE. 
 
 and successful, must necessarily be licentious 
 and immoral. 
 
 This seems, indeed, to have always been 
 the case. Even the moralities, being in- 
 tended to divert, as well as to instruct the 
 populace, contained a good portion of drol- 
 lery and humour, with some rude attempts at 
 wit, which naturally led the way for comedy. 
 The prevailing turn for drollery, says Smith, 
 was so strong, that in order to gratify it, even 
 in the more serious and solemn scenes, it was 
 still necessary to retain the vice, or buffoon ; 
 who like his contemporary, the privileged fool, 
 was to enter the most august presence, and 
 vent his humour without restraint. 
 
 The Encyclopedia Britannica says, " the 
 graver sort of moralities appear to have 
 given birth to our modern tragedy ; as our 
 comedy evidently took its rise from the 
 lighter interludes of that kind." 
 
 After these moralities, came what are 
 termed interludes, which made some ap- 
 proaches to wit and humour. "Even at the 
 time," says Smith, " when these mysteries 
 and moralities were in vogue, there were se- 
 cular plays and interludes, acted by strolling
 
 THE THEATRE. 77 
 
 companies, composed of minstrels, jugglers, 
 tumblers, dancers, jesters, and similar per- 
 formers, whose exhibitions were much relish- 
 ed, not only by the vulgar, but by the gentry 
 and nobility. The courts of the kings of 
 England, and the castles of the barons, were 
 crowded with these itinerants, who were well 
 received and handsomely rewarded, to the 
 great annoyance of their clerical rivals, who 
 endeavoured to bring them into disgrace, by 
 inveighing against the filthiness and immo- 
 rality of their performances, reproaches which 
 seem to have been but too well merited." A 
 friend to the drama, here endorses the charge 
 of filthiness and immorality, made against 
 those interludes which pleased the vulgar, 
 and charmed the nobility. The decided pre- 
 ference given to these filth}*- interludes, by the 
 high and the low, clearly discovers the taste 
 of the populace ; which taste gives law to the 
 drama, and stamps upon it, its own image. 
 The theatre will always be, in point of mo- 
 rality, what the people are. The people will 
 always be in this respect, just what they have 
 ever been, and now are, until the influence of 
 
 genuine religion is sufficiently strong to effect 
 
 7#
 
 78 THE THEATRE. 
 
 a general and thorough reformation; and then 
 its influence will put an end to theatrical ex- 
 hibitions, as it did when the Puritans of Eng- 
 land were in power. They will then be sup- 
 pressed, however, not so much by arbitrary 
 laws, as by the force of public opinion, and a 
 regard for the public welfare. 
 
 As religious plays were the origin of the 
 English drama, they were performed on Sun- 
 days and other holidays, and chiefly by the 
 clergy. A custom being thus established, the 
 secular players very naturally fell into it. 
 Hence we find that when Goffen wrote his 
 "school of Abuse," in 1579, dramatic enter- 
 tainments were usually exhibited on Sundays 
 only. Afterwards, however, they were per- 
 formed on that and other days indiscrimi- 
 nately. Easter has ever been considered by 
 the Roman Catholic church, as a season of 
 great festivity, and was formerly signalized 
 by extraordinary dramatic worship, with ap- 
 propriate scenery, machinery, dresses, and 
 decorations ; the theatrical representations 
 taking place in the churches, and the monks 
 being the actors. 
 
 There is extant a license dated 1572, per-
 
 THE THEATRE. 79 
 
 mitting one John Svvinton Powlter, " to use 
 playes and games on nine severall Sundaies ; 
 and because great resort of people is like to 
 come thereunto, he is to have proper persons 
 to keep peace and quiet during the continu- 
 ance of such playes and games." And yet, 
 says Smith, only eight years afterward, and 
 in the same queen's reign, the magistrates of 
 London procured an edict to be issued, " that 
 all heathenish playes and interludes should be 
 banished upon Sabbath-days." But this is 
 understood as only applying to the jurisdic- 
 tion of the Lord Mayor; for three years af- 
 terward a prodigious concourse of people 
 being assembled on a Sunday afternoon, at 
 the Paris Gardens in Southwark, to see plays 
 and a bearbaiting, the theatre fell with their 
 weight, when many were killed and more 
 wounded. The successor of Elizabeth, on 
 the other hand, thinking that the restrictions 
 on the public sports, were too generally and 
 too strictly applied, especially in the public 
 places, published the following declaration : 
 
 "Whereas we did justly, in our progress 
 through Lancashire, rebuke some puritanes 
 and precise people, in prohibiting and unlaw-
 
 80 THE THEATRE. 
 
 fully punishing of our good people, for using 
 their lawful recreations and honest exercises 
 on Sundayes, and other holy days, after the 
 afternoon sermon or service: It is our will, 
 that after the end of divine service, our good 
 people be not disturbed, letted, or discouraged 
 from any lawful recreation, such as dauncing, 
 either for men or women; archery for men, 
 leaping, vaulting, or any other such harmless 
 recreation; nor for having of May-games, 
 Whitson-ales, and morris daunces, and the 
 setting up of May-poles, and other sports 
 therewith used; so as the same to be had in due 
 and convenient time, without impediment or 
 neglect of divine service. But withall, we do 
 still account here, as prohibited, all unlawful 
 games to be used on Sundays onely, as beare 
 and bull-baitings, interludes, and at all times, 
 in the meaner sort of people by law prohibited, 
 bowling."* It seems from this, that the the- 
 atre was still considered more profane and 
 unsuited to the Sabbath, than the other en- 
 tertainments mentioned in the above royal 
 order. This is no slight proof of the opinion 
 
 * Smith's Games and Festivals.
 
 THETHEATRE. 81 
 
 entertained at that time, of the immoral cha- 
 racter and tendency of the stage. And it is 
 with regret and mortification that we state, 
 that in the largest of our southern cities, and 
 in this age of boasted light and improved 
 morals, the Sabbath is desecrated by thea- 
 trical performances. We trust that ere long, 
 the growing intelligence and piety of that 
 community, will abolish a custom so much at 
 variance with the principles of morality and 
 good order, and so fraught with evil to the 
 social system. 
 
 In the reign of Henry VIII., the number of 
 dramatic writers was increased : but the more 
 popular plays were debased with an inter- 
 mixture of low gross humour, which long 
 continued under the name of tragi-comedy. 
 Authors, aiming no higher than at present 
 pleasure and profit, were content to pander 
 to the taste of rude and ignorant audiences. 
 Such was the popularity of the drama, that 
 from the year 1570 to 1629, no fewer than 
 seventeen new theatres were erected in Lon~ 
 don. Queen Elizabeth patronized the stage, 
 by establishing on handsome salaries, twelve 
 of the principal players at that time, who went
 
 82 THETHEATRE. 
 
 under the name of "Her Majesty's Comedians 
 and Servants." Many noblemen, also had 
 their companies of actors, who performed not 
 only privately in their Lord's houses, but 
 publicly under their license and protection. 
 "Abuse," says Smith, "soon flowed from this 
 universal and unrestricted indulgence in the 
 pleasures of the stage. The great inns being 
 converted into temporary theatres, became 
 the scenes of much scandalous ribaldry and 
 shameless dissipation; of which Stow has left 
 a record in his ' Survey of London.' Speak- 
 ing of the stage, he says, 'This which was 
 once a recreation, and used therefore, now 
 and then occasionally, afterward, by abuse, 
 became a trade and calling, and so remains 
 to this day. In those former days, ingenious 
 tradesmen and gentlemen's servants would 
 sometimes gather a company of themselves, 
 and learn interludes, to expose vice, or to re- 
 present the noble actions of our ancestors. 
 These they played at festivals, in private 
 houses, at weddings and other entertainments; 
 but in process of time, it became an occupa- 
 tion : and these plays being commonly acted 
 on Sundays or festivals, the churches were
 
 THE THEATRE. 83 
 
 forsaken, and the play-houses thronged. 
 Great inns were used for this purpose, which 
 had secret chambers and places, as well as 
 open stages and galleries. Here maids and 
 good citizens' children were inveigled and al- 
 lured to private and unmeet contracts ; here 
 were publicly uttered popular and seditious 
 matters, unchaste, uncomely, and shameful 
 speeches, and many other enormities. The 
 consideration of these things occasioned in 
 1574, Sir James Hawes being mayor, an act 
 of common council, in which it was ordained, 
 that no play should be openly acted within 
 the liberty of the city, wherein should be ut- 
 tered any words, examples, or doings of any 
 unchastity, sedition, or such-like unfit and 
 uncomely matter, under the penalty of five 
 pounds, and fourteen days imprisonment: that 
 no play should be acted till first permitted and 
 allowed by the Lord Mayor and court of Al- 
 dermen ; with many other restrictions. But 
 these orders were not so well observed as 
 they should be ; the lewd matters of plays in- 
 creased, and they were thought dangerous to 
 religion, the state, honesty, and manners, and 
 also for infection in the time of sickness.
 
 84 THETHEATRE. 
 
 Wherefore they were afterwards for some 
 time totally suppressed ; but upon application 
 to the Queen and council, they were again 
 tolerated under the following restrictions: 
 that no plays be acted on Sundays at all, nor 
 on any holy day till after evening prayer: 
 that no playing be in the dark, nor continue 
 any such time but as any of the auditors may 
 return to their dwellings before sunset, or at 
 least before it be dark, &c. But all these 
 proscriptions were not sufficient to keep them 
 within due bounds; but their plays, so abu- 
 sive oftentimes of virtue, or particular per- 
 sons, gave great offence, and occasioned 
 many disturbances, when they were now and 
 then stopped and prohibited." 
 
 In the reign of Queen Elizabeth, 1580, the 
 whole city of London petitioned, successfully, 
 against the theatre, and occasioned those 
 legislative restrictions to which we have al- 
 luded. An account of this is given by Raw- 
 lidge in his " Monster lately found out." 
 " Many godly citizens, and other well dis- 
 posed gentlemen of London," observes this 
 writer, " considering that play-houses were 
 traps for young gentlemen and others, and
 
 THE THEATRE. 85 
 
 perceiving the many inconveniences and great 
 damage that would ensue upon the long suf- 
 fering of the same, not only to particular 
 persons, but to the whole city, and that 
 would also be a great disparagement to the 
 governors, and a dishonour to the govern- 
 ment of this honourable city, if they should 
 any longer continue, acquainted some pious 
 magistrates therewith, desiring them to take 
 some course for the suppression of common 
 play-houses within the city of London and 
 liberties thereof: who thereupon made hum- 
 ble suit to the Queen and her privy council, 
 and obtained leave of her Majesty to thrust 
 the players out of the city, and to pull down 
 all play-houses within their liberties ; which 
 according was effected. And the play-houses 
 Grace-church-street, &c, were quite put down 
 and suppressed." 
 
 Shakspeare nourished in the reign of 
 Queen Elizabeth, and is regarded as the 
 greatest genius known among the dramatic 
 poets. From his time to the introduction 
 into England of the style of the French 
 drama, the theatre is considered as having 
 attained to its highest distinction. The emi- 
 8
 
 86 THE THEATRE. 
 
 nence of those early dramatic writers in Eng- 
 land, is attributed not merely to their superior 
 mental powers, but also to the circumstances 
 under which those powers were exercised, to 
 the state of society and literature under 
 which they existed, to the prevalent habits of 
 thinking at that period, and to the influence 
 which these causes produced on their wri- 
 tings. Still there is much grossness and ob- 
 scenity in Shakspeare's pla} r s. The intellect 
 of the audience is often feasted at the ex- 
 pense of the heart. " I am as sensible as 
 any man," says a modern writer, quoted in a 
 London magazine, " of the wonderful talents 
 of that poet, Shakspeare: for force of lan- 
 guage, for exhaustless invention, for an in- 
 sight into human nature, for a power to 
 touch and rend the heart, he is unequalled, 
 and stands among dramatists as a diamond 
 among pearls; but while I know his intellect- 
 ual capacities, I must deeply lament their 
 miserable abuse. So far from having a moral 
 end before him, he has frequently its oppo- 
 site, and seems indifferent to moral results. 
 His licentious witticisms, his corrupt allu- 
 sions, many times repeated, render many
 
 THE THEATRE. 87 
 
 parts of his works, in a moral light, the 
 objects of indignation and disgust." 
 
 Entertaining similar views with those above 
 expressed, the editor of" The Family Shak- 
 speare," attempted to expurgate the works of 
 that great poet, in order to render them suita- 
 ble for the domestic library, by freeing them 
 from all objectionable passages and allusions. 
 Whatever may have been the success of this 
 attempt, the design was certainly praise- 
 worthy, and ought to have exempted it from 
 the caustic notice of the London Quarterly 
 Review, contained in a note on page 134, of 
 vol. 12. " Among the most extraordinary at- 
 tempts at moral improvement, none, perhaps, 
 is better calculated to excite a sarcastic smile, 
 tnan the publication of a ' Family Shakspeare,' 
 from which all objectionable passages are 
 expunged. This is Jack tearing off the lace 
 from Lord Peter's coat, with a vengeance !" 
 
 Those indefatigable publishers, the Messrs. 
 Harper, of New York, have adopted a simi- 
 lar plan of publishing, in their " Dramatic Se- 
 ries," the works of those eminent dramatists 
 who flourished in and about the time of Shak- 
 speare ; " omitting," as they say in their ad-
 
 88 THETHEATRE. 
 
 vertisement, " all such scenes and passages as 
 are inconsistent with the delicacy, and refine- 
 ment of modern taste and manners." We 
 regard all this, as so much testimony against 
 the drama, going to show the general licen- 
 tiousness and immorality of the stage.
 
 THETHEATRE. 89 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 ORIGIN AND PROGRESS OF THE DRAMA CONTINUED. 
 
 A very general eagerness for theatrical 
 amusements continued throughout the whole 
 reign of James I., and a great part of that 
 of Charles I. But as is usual in times of 
 public calamity, so at the breaking out of the 
 civil war, all public diversions and recrea- 
 tions were laid aside. By an ordinance of 
 September 2, 1642, it was declared, that 
 " Whereas public sports do not agree with 
 public calamities, nor public stage-plays with 
 the seasons of humiliation : this beino- an ex- 
 ercise of sad and pious solemnity ; the other 
 being spectacles of pleasure, too commonly 
 expressing lascivious mirth and levity ; it is 
 therefore ordained, that while the sad causes, 
 and set times of humiliation continue, public 
 stage-plays shall cease, and be forborne ; 
 instead of which are recommended to the 
 people of this land, the profitable duties of
 
 90 THE THEATRE. 
 
 repentance, and making their peace with 
 God." This is an important document, as it 
 shows, what every man must feel in his own 
 bosom, that theatrical amusements are wholly 
 inconsistent with the present conditions of 
 human life, exposed as it is to the trials and 
 vicissitudes of this world. When these trials 
 overtake us, we are ready to acknowledge 
 the unsuitableness of such vain and trifling 
 amusements. The pressure of afflictive cir- 
 cumstances will often extort from men their 
 candid opinions and honest convictions, in 
 regard to the vanities of this life. Here is a 
 whole nation bearing testimony to the truth 
 of these remarks, in their application to the- 
 atrical amusements. 
 
 The public calamities of this period, doubt- 
 less, had the effect of leading the more pious 
 of the land to seek direction and assistance 
 from the Hearer of prayer. " There were 
 giants in those days" in the theological world. 
 Although loaded with odium, and branded 
 with opprobrious epithets, by those who sub- 
 sequently wielded the controlling influence 
 over the land, yet their influence twice saved 
 the nation from all the horrors of a spiritual
 
 THE THEATRE. 91 
 
 despotism, and firmly kept at bay the strong 
 arm of unlimited monarchy. To the unyield- 
 ing maintenance of the principles which dis- 
 tinguished them, England owes all the liberty 
 she now enjoys. They were not wholly free 
 from the false political maxims of the age in 
 which they lived, and being men of like pas- 
 sions with ourselves, they were subject to the 
 common infirmities of human nature. Yet 
 they boldly withstood the torrent of vice and 
 licentiousness which threatened to engulph 
 all Europe, and nobly resisted the encroach- 
 ments of arbitrary power. It was for cen- 
 suring, with commendable fidelity, and stead- 
 ily opposing with honest zeal, the wickedness 
 which was enthroned in high places, that they 
 received the name of Puritans; — a name 
 which, though bestowed with sarcastic bit- 
 terness, yet carries with it the testimony of 
 foes to the purity of their lives, and reflects 
 severely, though unwittingly, upon the licen- 
 tiousness of those who bestowed it ; — a name 
 which, though originally designed as the 
 stigma of reproach, yet has become dear to 
 the lovers of civil liberty and practical godli- 
 ness. It is a name indelibly engraven upon
 
 92 THE THEATRE. 
 
 the rock of Plymouth, and which, particularly 
 in a large section of our country, is identified 
 with our civil polity — a polity which, we trust, 
 is a political asbestos, inconsumable by the 
 fires of zealous contention, which now blaze 
 around it. But why this eulogy of the Puri- 
 tans? Because they have been branded with 
 moroseness and bigotry for attempting the 
 suppression of theatrical amusements. The 
 charge has been handed down from one 
 writer to another, till it has assumed the 
 character of an admitted fact, that bigotry 
 and sanctimoniousness, and not the spirit of 
 genuine religion, seek the suppression of the- 
 atrical exhibitions. We contend that genu- 
 ine religion, whether under the name of puri- 
 tanism or not, is a foe to the stage, just as 
 it is a foe to every other form of vice. It 
 ought, however, to be understood, that re- 
 ligion is not accountable for the particular 
 mode which good, but injudicious men may 
 adopt in carrying forward that opposition 
 which it inspires. A good thing may be 
 badly done. A good cause may be impro- 
 perly managed; and some of my readers 
 may perhaps regard this performance as a fit 
 illustration of the sentiment.
 
 THE THEATRE. 93 
 
 The ordinance which has been attributed 
 to the influence of the Puritans, was that 
 passed on the 11th of February, 1647, by 
 which " all stage-players were declared to be 
 rogues, punishable by the acts of the 39th 
 of Queen Elizabeth, and 7th of King James, 
 notwithstanding any license they might have 
 from the King, or any other person. All 
 stage galleries, seats, and boxes, are ordered 
 to be pulled down by warrant of two justices 
 of peace; all actors in plays for time to come, 
 being convicted, shall be publicly whipped, 
 and find sureties for their not offending in 
 like manner for the future; and all spectators 
 of plays, for every offence, are to pay five 
 shillings." Now, while we by no means jus- 
 tify the harsh provisions of this ordinance, 
 but condemn them as unwise and unjust; 
 yet the object aimed at, namely, the suppres- 
 sion of theatrical exhibitions, is a commend- 
 able one, and one which the pious of this 
 land, of all denominations, are labouring to 
 accomplish; not, however, by such means, 
 but merely by the moral force of public 
 sentiment. 
 
 The actors we regard as generally beyond
 
 94 THE THEATRE. 
 
 the reach of religious influence. Our hope is 
 in prevailing upon the people not to patron- 
 ize them. It is a fair contest between moral 
 principle and the love of pleasure. A con- 
 test in which the stage has the advantage of 
 having human nature, with its passions and 
 propensities, in its favour. But our reliance 
 is upon the power of Him "who maketh 
 wise the simple." 
 
 After a few ineffectual attempts to revive 
 the art, we hear no more of theatrical exhibi- 
 tions for some time, unless the entertainments 
 of Sir William Davenant, which consisted in 
 declamation and music, may be regarded as 
 such. It appears that he exhibited these en- 
 tertainments without molestation, till the eve 
 of the Restoration. 
 
 The Restoration may be regarded as an 
 important epoch in the history of the drama, 
 as it was undoubtedly an event highly favour- 
 able to the players. The lovers of pleasure 
 returned to their amusements with increased 
 avidity, and the stage once more began to 
 replenish the pockets of the performers. It 
 received, however, a temporary check from 
 the breaking out of the plague in London, in
 
 THE THEATRE. 95 
 
 1665, and again from the great fire which 
 occurred the year after. 
 
 An advocate of the drama, bears witness 
 that these awful visitations of divine provi- 
 dence were soon forgotten by the frequenters 
 of the theatre. " After a discontinuance," 
 says Smith, " of eighteen months, both (play) 
 houses were again opened at Christmas, 1666, 
 when the miseries occasioned by the plague 
 and the fire were both forgotten, and public 
 diversions were pursued with as much eager- 
 ness as ever." This fact, so candidly stated by 
 a friend to the stage, is a striking commentary 
 upon the tendency of such exhibitions. Who 
 could envy that state of morals which cha- 
 racterized the frequenters of the theatre, when 
 it would allow those who had been so recently 
 rescued from the jaws of the pestilence, and 
 from the devouring flame, to plunge into the 
 vortex of pleasure and folly, even while the 
 groans of the dying still lingered on the ear, 
 and while the tears of unsheltered widows 
 and orphans had not yet ceased to flow ? A 
 thousand objects of commiseration and cha- 
 rity must have daily met these lovers of plea- 
 sure in the streets of the mourning city. Many
 
 9G THE THEATRE. 
 
 whom the plague had left widows and orphans, 
 the fire left destitute and needy. If benevo- 
 lence had triumphed over self gratification, 
 the money thrown away upon the corrupters 
 of the public morals, for the indulgence of 
 pleasure, might have comforted and supplied 
 the wants of the bereaved and suffering poor. 
 Well may the writer above quoted, say, that 
 the miseries of the plague and fire, " were 
 both forgotten." It is an important concession 
 from a friend to the drama, to say, that visit- 
 ing the theatre, at such a time, was evidence 
 that these miseries were forgotten. If the 
 theatre were a school of virtue and morals, 
 there could be no such unfitness in frequenting 
 it at such a time, as he seems to intimate. 
 This writer implies, and very justly too, that 
 had the people duly pondered these visitations 
 of God, and permitted them to have their 
 proper effect upon their hearts, they could not 
 have given themselves up to the indulgence 
 of licentious pleasure. 
 
 This trait in the morals of the play-going 
 community, soon exerted its influence on the 
 drama itself, by gradually moulding it to suit 
 a more licentious taste. That such was the
 
 THE THEATRE. 97 
 
 character of the stage, in the time of Charles 
 II., is generally admitted. The dissolute 
 manners of the people, from the king down 
 through all ranks, are thus noticed by Russell, 
 in his History of Modern Europe. " Charles 
 himself was a man of a social temper, of an 
 easy address, and a lively and animated con- 
 versation. His courtiers partook much of 
 the character of their prince : they were 
 chiefly men of the world, and many of them 
 distinguished by their wit, gallantry, and spi- 
 rit. But having all experienced the insolence 
 of pious tyranny, or been exposed to the ne- 
 glect of poverty, they had imbibed, under the 
 pressure of adversity, the most libertine opin- 
 ions, both in regard to religion and morals; 
 and in greedily enjoying their good fortune, 
 after the restoration, in retaliating selfishness, 
 and contrasting the language and the manners 
 of hypocrisy, they shamefully violated the 
 laws of decency and decorum. Elated at the 
 return of their sovereign, the whole royal 
 party dissolved in thoughtless jollity; and 
 even many of the republicans, but especially 
 the younger sort and the women, were glad 
 to be released from the gloomy austerity of 
 9
 
 98 THE THEATRE. 
 
 the commonwealth. A general relaxation of 
 manners took place. Pleasure became the 
 universal object, and love, the prevailing taste. 
 But that love was rather an appetite than a 
 passion; and though the ladies sacrificed 
 freely to it, they were not able to inspire their 
 paramours either with sentiment or deli- 
 cacy. 
 
 " The same want of delicacy is observable 
 in the literary productions of this reign. Even 
 those intended for the stage, with very few 
 exceptions, are shockingly licentious and in- 
 decent, as well as disfigured by extravagance 
 and folly."* 
 
 On the principle that the people give law 
 to the drama, and impress upon it the charac- 
 ter of their own taste and manners, we are 
 at no loss to find out the tendency of theatri- 
 cal exhibitions at this period. It was now 
 that women first appeared as performers on 
 the English stage. Previous to the restora- 
 tion, the female characters were acted by 
 boys, or young men of an effeminate aspect. 
 The honour of first disgracing her sex, in 
 this manner, seems to belong to a Mrs. 
 
 * Russell's Modern Europe, vol. 2. p. 295.
 
 THE THEATRE. 99 
 
 Hughes; though some writers claim priority 
 for Mrs. Sanderson, afterwards Mrs. Bet- 
 terton. 
 
 The London Quarterly Review (vol. 12, p. 
 133,) after speaking of the age that preceded 
 the unhappy disputes between Charles I. and 
 his parliaments, says: "Under the licentious 
 and contemptible government of his son, the 
 nation became entirely French, and to the 
 utter disgrace of the public taste, bombast 
 and indecency usurped the place of genius 
 and nature." 
 
 It was in this reign, and during the preva- 
 lence of these corrupt manners, and of this 
 depraved taste, that operas were first intro- 
 duced on the English stage. The language 
 of these musical dramas was always English, 
 until the latter end of the seventeenth century, 
 when vocal and instrumental performers from 
 Italy were introduced upon the English stage. 
 These operas were not known in Italy before 
 the beginning of the seventeenth century. 
 Charles II. encouraged the introduction of 
 French operas. The general licentiousness 
 of opera dancing is too proverbial to need 
 particular notice here. Surely the opera
 
 100 THE THEATRE. 
 
 does not claim to be " a school of vir- 
 tue.'* 
 
 The stage retained that licentious and im- 
 moral character which distinguished it in 
 this reign, for a considerable time, till it was 
 attacked with great ability, on account of its 
 indecency and profanity, by the celebrated 
 Jeremy Collier, who, in 1697, says Smith, 
 •• published a bitter invective against plays, 
 performers, and dramatic writers, and, having 
 some truth and justice on his side, won much 
 of the public opinion in his favour, and im- 
 posed no small difficulty on those defenders 
 of the stage who attempted to answer his 
 charges. Among those champions were enlist- 
 ed Congreve, Vanbrugh, Dryden, Dennis, and 
 others, who opposed their assailant with suf- 
 ficient wit and humour, but without confuting 
 the objections he had started, either against 
 themselves individually, or against the stage 
 in general. Dryden found himself so hard 
 pressed that, as Dr. Johnson notices in his 
 life of him, " like other hunted animals, he 
 stood at bay, and when he could not disown 
 the grossness of one of his plays, he declared 
 that he knew not any law that prescribed
 
 THE THEATRE. 101 
 
 morality to a comic poet.' 'The contro- 
 versy,' says Gibber, i had a very wholesome 
 effect upon those who wrote after this time. 
 They were now a great deal more upon their 
 guard; indecencies were no longer wit; and 
 by degrees the fair sex came again to fill the 
 boxes on the first day of a new comedy, 
 without fear or censure.' To forward the 
 reformation of the stage, prosecutions were 
 commenced against some of the performers, 
 for repeating profane and indecent words. 
 Several were found guilty; and Betterton 
 and Mrs. Bracegirdle were actually fined." 
 
 It is not uncommon for English writers to 
 charge the French stage with levity, bad 
 taste, and licentiousness, and to have the 
 same charge retorted. It is very well that 
 both can see the immoral tendency of each 
 others' plays, though often unwilling to ac- 
 knowledge the same of their own. A man 
 with a beam in his own eye, thinks he can 
 see a mote in his brother's. All this, how- 
 ever, is valid testimony against the theatre. 
 But that testimony is still stronger when it 
 comes from either, against their own drama. 
 Racine, in a speech made to the French
 
 102 THE THEATRE. 
 
 Academy in the beginning of 1685, represents 
 the miserable state in -which the French the- 
 atre then was — that it was " without order, 
 decency, sense, or taste." 
 
 The "Tartuffe" of Moliere was, on ac- 
 count of the ridicule which it cast on the ec- 
 clesiastical order, suppressed through the in- 
 terest of that body, after it had been acted 
 only a few nights, while at the same time a 
 most profane farce was permitted to have a 
 long run. When Louis XIV. expressed to the 
 Prince of Conde his wonder at the different 
 fates of these two pieces, and asked the rea- 
 son of it, the Prince answered, " in the farce 
 religion only is ridiculed; but Moliere, in the 
 Tartuffe, has attacked even the priests."* 
 
 Early in the last century, we find that 
 pantomimes were performed on the English 
 stage, which, says Smith, have always been 
 considered contemptible, and to the disgrace 
 of the public taste, they were encouraged. 
 
 Dr. Blair, after remarking upon the great 
 licentiousness which prevailed upon the comic 
 stage in Great Britain, not only during the 
 reign of Charles II., but throughout the 
 
 * Percy Anecdotes.
 
 THE THEATRE. 103 
 
 reigns of King William and Queen Anne, 
 and down to the days of George II., adds 
 that " he is happy, however, to have it in his 
 power to observe, that of late years, a sen- 
 sible reformation had begun to take place." 
 Whatever reformation took place at this time, 
 it certainly was not extensive, nor of long 
 continuance, for we find that towards the 
 close of the last and the beginning of the 
 present century, the popular plays were of 
 such a character as to inculcate infidelity and 
 irreligion. Smith, whom we have frequently 
 quoted, is a very late writer, and a defender 
 of the drama. His testimony relative to the 
 present character of the English stage, is as 
 follows : 
 
 " Never was the English drama at so low, 
 so deplorable an ebb, as it is at the present 
 moment. Almost may it be said that we 
 have no native modern drama; for the stage 
 presents us little of novelty, but successive 
 adaptations from the French. It is no longer 
 a public mirror, which, by reflecting to us 
 correct images of ourselves, and of the times 
 in which we live, may assist us to amend the 
 defects of both; but a magic lantern, offering
 
 104 THE THEATRE. 
 
 to our view an unmeaning jumble of foreign 
 frivolities, grotesque monsters, and fantastic 
 fooleries."* 
 
 We have already quoted the opinion of the 
 London Quarterly Review, relative to the 
 obscenity and licentiousness of the ancient 
 classical drama. It is a stiking fact, and 
 one worthy of observation, that this Review, 
 though a warm and zealous defender of the 
 drama, yet represents it, in every age of its 
 existence, as unfriendly to virtue and good 
 morals. 
 
 This seems to be intentionally done, except 
 in reference to one age of the drama, namely, 
 from the commencement of Queen Elizabeth's 
 reign, down to that of Charles I. But even 
 then, according to the showing of the Re- 
 view, it must have been injurious to the morals 
 of the people. This will appear, however, 
 as we proceed in our quotations from that 
 work. 
 
 " The history of the English stage," says 
 this Review, (vol. 17. p. 251, &c.) " presents 
 us with two striking periods. The one, when 
 dramatic composition, free from all external 
 
 * Smith's Festivals and Games.
 
 THE THEATRE. 105 
 
 influence, formed a distinct and separate 
 school of its own. The other, when the in- 
 troduction of French rules, both in criticism 
 and composition gradually changed its aspect, 
 and brought along with it a taste for the prin- 
 ciples and structure of the Greek tragedy, on 
 which the French is founded, and which, 
 indeed, it very closely resembles. There are, 
 in truth, some points of obvious difference, 
 but it may be observed, in general, that the 
 agreement is essential, and the difference 
 merely accidental." " The points of dissimi- 
 litude are few and unimportant, and, as we 
 before remarked, arise rather from the dif- 
 ference of manners, necessarily modified by 
 the lapse of ages, than from any inherent 
 discrepancy, either in the conception of the 
 authors, or the taste of the audience." The 
 Review then proceeds to describe the obscene, 
 foolish, and profane character of the ancient 
 Greek drama, which description we have al- 
 ready quoted at the close of our notice of the 
 Grecian and Roman stage, and which it will 
 be well, for the sake of connexion, if the reader 
 will peruse again. I am aware that this Re- 
 view is concerned chiefly, if not wholly, with
 
 106 THE THEATRE. 
 
 the literature, and not with the moral ten- 
 dency of the drama, still it makes us acquain- 
 ted indirectly with the latter. 
 
 After noticing the circumstances under 
 which the early dramatic writers in England, 
 brought the stage to its greatest perfection, 
 the Review proceeds : " Every variety of pas- 
 sion, however unfit to be exposed, and every 
 modification of character, however difficult to 
 be traced, enter into their representations, 
 which include the whole of human existence. 
 Many incidents in life are mean and trivial, 
 yet they stoop to record them ; many passions 
 are foul and loathsome, yet they do not 
 shrink from painting them." "The moral 
 sensibility of the times, though sufficiently 
 acute to sympathize in natural feelings, was 
 by no means refined : provided moral justice 
 was generally preserved, they little regarded 
 poetical consistency or even decorous repre- 
 sentations: they could endure the sight of 
 every crime, provided it was finally punished: 
 and sustain the view of every passion, pro- 
 vided it was checked by conscience amid its 
 triumph, and punished by remorse in its de- 
 feat. The writers knew what the audience
 
 THE THEATRE. 107 
 
 could bear, and all they could bear was cer- 
 tainly laid on them — the last struggles of 
 human feeling, in its most direful extremities, 
 the ravages of blasphemy, the impieties of 
 atheism, the presence and actual agency of 
 benevolent or malignant spirits, the whole en- 
 ergies of mortality, and the ' powers of the 
 world to come,' were brought in aid of the 
 effect of their drama, and the effect certainly 
 did not disappoint them." 
 
 Here let the reader pause, and ask him- 
 self, whether the above writer is speaking in 
 praise or in condemnation of the drama which 
 he describes. He says that it painted pas- 
 sions that were " foul and loathsome ;" that 
 it little regarded "even decorous representa- 
 tions;" that " the ravages of blasphemy" and 
 " the impieties of atheism," were brought in 
 aid of its effect. Can it then be other than 
 a licentious, indecent, and profane drama? 
 Yet this was the golden age of the English 
 theatre. The drama was now at its highest 
 point of distinction. Since then it has con- 
 tinued to decline in every respect, as the Re- 
 view proceeds to show. If then the drama, in 
 its best estate, was what its warm advocate
 
 108 THE THEATRE. 
 
 here represents it to have been, we think that 
 the seal of reprobation may justly be put 
 upon the whole system as unfriendly to vir- 
 tue, morality, and religion. 
 
 The Review proceeds to describe the cha- 
 racter of the drama in its declining state. 
 thus: 
 
 " The return of Charles produced a revival 
 of the theatre, which had been suppressed by 
 the rigour of the Puritans, and the age be- 
 came fertile in dramatic poets. But they 
 had lost the independence of character, the 
 liberty of thought, the poetic napmot* (par- 
 resia) that distinguished their predecessors. 
 The writer was no longer a man who enjoy- 
 ed the unforced and gratuitous effusions of 
 his genius, and committed his cause, with 
 fearless confidence to posterity; he was be- 
 come a venal scribbler, grasping at epheme- 
 ral notoriety, flattering wickedness in high 
 places, and bartering his birthright of fame for 
 a paltry pittance, often withheld by caprice, 
 or embittered by insult. 
 
 In the writings of these men, there is a 
 strange mixture of licentiousness and poetry, 
 of genius and depravity. The French Court
 
 THE THEATRE. 109 
 
 had taught them gallantry, but not refine- 
 ment; they eagerly imbibed all of evil which 
 their teachers could communicate, without 
 the palliations which those teachers are so 
 dexterous in administering; their gay, easy 
 wit; their apparent heedlessness of the mis- 
 chief they do; their art in withdrawing our 
 attention from their object, and fixing it on 
 their manner, and their power of giving to 
 the result of deep and painful reflection the 
 air of a superficial remark, or an extempo- 
 raneous sally. By these writers, love is 
 painted only in its physical raptures, beauty 
 its sole incitement, and fruition its only re- 
 ward; virtue (or as they write it, vertue) is 
 employed to signify neither moral excellence 
 in the abstract, nor one of its modes sepa- 
 rately exercised, but merely the assemblage 
 of qualities, good and bad, that exist in the 
 character to which the term is applied; and 
 honour is represented in a whimsical suit of 
 ill-assorted and incongruous appointments, 
 like a preux chevalier of the feudal age, ac- 
 coutred in the flowing wig, the lace cravat, 
 and the shoe-roses of a gallant in the Court of 
 Louis Quatorze, turbulent, warlike and fero- 
 10
 
 110 THE THEATRE. 
 
 cious like the one ; full of quaint terms, florid 
 courtesy, and amatory compliments like the 
 other. 
 
 " The loose opinions of the age, with regard 
 to religion, are easily discoverable; the usual 
 topics employed, even by dramatic writers, of 
 a dependence on the wisdom of the Deity for 
 the ultimate solution of the difficulties of life, 
 of support under its inflictions here, and a 
 confidence of remuneration for its sufferings 
 hereafter, those general palliatives of human 
 wretchedness which the good are anxious to 
 minister, and the miserable are willing to re- 
 ceive, are utterly banished from their pages. 
 In lieu of these, we find perpetually occurring 
 the names of fate, destiny, and chance — mys- 
 terious words — by whose assistance, men, 
 under every dispensation, have helped them- 
 selves to believe that their crimes and suf- 
 ferings might be ascribed to any agency 
 but their own ; with these is mingled a fre- 
 quent reference to the influence of the stars; 
 the belief of which was strongly operative 
 even in that age of irreligion; so closely 
 united are the extremes of superstition and 
 infidelity."
 
 THE THEATRE. Ill 
 
 Had the above strictures come from the 
 pen of an avowed enemy of the stage, they 
 might have passed as the honest and just 
 convictions of a sensible writer ; but coming 
 as they do from a warm partisan in behalf of 
 the drama, and from so respectable and in- 
 fluential a source as the London Quarterly 
 Review, they must carry great weight to 
 every candid and impartial mind. Besides 
 condemning pointedly the French drama, as 
 without taste, and immoral in its tendency, 
 the Review involves in the same condem- 
 nation, either directly, or by fair inference, 
 the English drama, from its earliest history, 
 down to the time when the article was written. 
 Candour requires us again to observe, that 
 the chief object aimed at in these strictures is a 
 literary one; but what reader of these remarks 
 does not perceive that the writer bears, per- 
 haps unintentionally, a most decided testimony 
 against the tendency of the stage? The tes- 
 timony thus casually furnished, is the more 
 important and decisive in its character, be- 
 cause it is afforded at a time, when the mind 
 of the writer is free from that bias and ex- 
 citement, which a discussion of the direct
 
 112 THE THEATRE. 
 
 question of the moral tendency of the theatre, 
 might create. 
 
 To conclude this historical sketch, let us 
 hear the testimony of Schlegel, the admirer 
 of the drama, and the eloquent lecturer on its 
 literature. In summing up the defects of the 
 English stage, he says, " the last and not the 
 least defect of the English comedies, is their 
 offensiveness. I may sum up the whole, by 
 saying, that after all we know of the licen- 
 tiousness of manners under Charles the 
 Second, we are still lost in astonishment at 
 the audacious ribaldry of Wycherley and 
 Congreve. Decency is not merely violated 
 in the grossest manner in single speeches, 
 and frequently in the whole plot, but in the 
 character of the rake, the fashionable de- 
 bauchee, a moral scepticism is directly preach- 
 ed up, and marriage is the constant subject of 
 their ridicule. Beaumont and Fletcher pour- 
 tray ed an irregular but vigorous nature: no- 
 thing, however, can be more repulsive than 
 rude depravity coupled with claims to higher 
 refinement. Under Queen Anne, manners 
 became again more decorous, and this may 
 easily be traced in the comedies, in the series
 
 THE THEATRE. 113 
 
 of English comic poets, Wycherley, Congreve, 
 Farquhar, Vanbrugh, Steele, Cibber, &c, we 
 may perceive something like a gradation from 
 the most unblushing indecency to a tolerable 
 degree of modesty. However, the example 
 of the predecessors has had more than a due 
 influence on the successors."* 
 
 * Schlegel's Dramatic Literature, p. 400. 
 
 10*
 
 114 THE THEATRE. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 FRUITLESS ATTEMPTS TO REFORM THE THEATRE. 
 
 We come now to notice some of the at- 
 tempts to reform the stage, and to make it 
 subservient to the cause of virtue and good 
 morals. 
 
 In treating of this subject, we must care- 
 fuly distinguish between a literary and a 
 moral reformation. Most writers, in alluding 
 to this subject, are to be understood as mean- 
 ing the former. Thus when Aristotle says, that 
 at Athens the theatre was brought to great 
 perfection, we are to understand him, as he 
 explains himself to mean, that the writers of 
 plays vied with each other in the elegance of 
 their compositions; and not that the moral 
 sentiment of the play was improved, nor that 
 the moral tendency of the stage was at all 
 changed ; for at Athens it was soon abolished 
 by public authority. Even literary reforma- 
 tions have been but partial, and of short du-
 
 THE THEATRE. 115 
 
 ration. The customs and manners of differ- 
 ent countries and ages have also had their 
 effect in producing a temporary modification 
 of its moral character, by purifying it from 
 some of its grosser obscenities, and indecent 
 language. At other times again, as in the 
 reign of Charles II., the stage has relapsed 
 into its wonted licentiousness. The tendency 
 of the stage, through all its modifications, has 
 uniformly been immoral. 
 
 The causes which operate against a lite- 
 rary reformation are similar to those which 
 have rendered abortive all attempts at a mo- 
 ral reformation, yet their influence is not so 
 extensive. Among the great mass of those 
 who attend the theatre, there are, compara- 
 tively speaking, but few of a highly cultivated 
 literary taste. And as the stage must always 
 accord with the taste of those who patronize 
 and support it, it follows that the stage will 
 never be permanently reformed, even in a 
 literary point of view. 
 
 The stage must have its attractions for the 
 mass of the people, otherwise it cannot be 
 supported. Hence dramatic writers aim to 
 accomplish tw r o opposite, and consequently
 
 116 THE THEATRE. 
 
 difficult ends, namely, to please a literary 
 taste and the vulgar taste at the same time. 
 This is sometimes done by conveying the 
 most licentious sentiments through the me- 
 dium of a very polished style, and an inge- 
 nious, interesting, and striking plot. Undis- 
 guised obscenity is no more in keeping with 
 good taste, than it is with good morals, and 
 may, therefore, be displeasing even to a 
 vicious man on the one account, though not 
 on the other. This will serve to explain 
 what is sometimes called a reformation of 
 the stage, a legitimate drama, and a purified 
 theatre. A play of great genius, and power- 
 ful effect, superior theatrical talent, and an 
 outward show of decency, constitutes what 
 is sometimes called the perfection of the art. 
 
 These attempts to reform and perfect the 
 drama are not such as we shall notice, as 
 they have little or no reference to its moral 
 tendency. If any such reference is had, it is 
 commonly only so far as to make morality 
 subservient to literature and genius, or to the 
 popularity and acceptability of the play. 
 
 But few attempts to reform the stage have 
 ever been made, which aim directly to make
 
 THE THEATRE. 117 
 
 it the patron of virtue, good morals, and 
 religion. 
 
 The majority of those who attend the the- 
 atre prefer it as it is; and it continues to be 
 what it is, because they prefer it. The the- 
 atre, on this account, is regarded by the 
 wisest and best of men as incorrigible. We 
 think that all the attempts to reform the mo- 
 rality of the theatre, and yet to preserve its 
 attractions, betray a want of acquaintance 
 with human nature, and with the main object 
 of the drama. The object of the drama is to 
 fill the pockets of the actors, by adapting it 
 to the taste of depraved human nature. Dra- 
 matists know that they have nothing to hope 
 for in the way of patronage, from the devout 
 and pious, who, of all others, are most con- 
 cerned for the morals of the people. It would, 
 therefore, be useless to sacrifice the patron- 
 age of the majority of those who attend the 
 theatre, in order to reform the morals of the 
 drama; for when thus reformed, the most 
 zealous advocates of virtue and religion 
 would not patronize it. This reformation 
 would drive away fifty old patrons, where it 
 would draw in one new one. This is one
 
 118 THE THEATRE. 
 
 reason why there have been so few attempts 
 to reform the drama. 
 
 Again: the professed point of dramatic ex- 
 cellence, namely, to represent human nature 
 as it is, has deterred others from attempting 
 this reformation. As human nature is de- 
 praved, and as a great portion of human 
 actions are wicked, it follows that vice, in all 
 its forms, comes in for a large share of noto- 
 riety and representation. The vices of men 
 must be pourtrayed as well as their virtues, 
 else it is a misrepresentation of human na- 
 ture. 
 
 The interest and point of the play commonly 
 turn upon the exhibition of some wicked and 
 vicious action or trait of character. This re- 
 presentation of vice must be so conducted as to 
 afford pleasure and amusement, otherwise it 
 will not be patronized. But if the representa- 
 tion of vice is made to afford pleasure, it will 
 commonly fail to excite a hatred of vice itself. 
 The agreeable sensation produced by the 
 faithful exhibition of vice, is apt to become 
 associated in the mind with vice itself. The 
 pleasure derived from a faithful representation 
 of the seductive arts of the libertine, will, in
 
 THE THEATRE. 119 
 
 most minds, greatly diminish the aversion 
 with which such characters should be viewed. 
 The pleasure which a youth derives from the 
 narration of obscene stories, greatly lessens 
 his disgust for obscenity. The school-boy, 
 who has heard a profane man eloquently 
 curse and swear, soon begins to associate 
 manliness with profanity. When oaths are 
 made to give zest to wit and humour, they 
 soon begin to be regarded as comparatively 
 harmless. When the Sabbath is desecrated 
 by sport and amusement, its sacredness is 
 less and less esteemed. The principle here 
 illustrated, will apply to theatrical exhibitions. 
 It is the pleasure that the representation of 
 vice is made to afford, that works the evil. 
 Pleasure, and romance, and splendour, all be- 
 come associated in the popular mind, with 
 vice, and it consequently appears less heinous 
 than it really is. This being the case, those 
 who delight in the drama, and yet desire to 
 see it become the patron of virtue and piety, 
 are discouraged from all attempts to make it 
 such. This is another reason why there have 
 been so few attempts to reform the moral 
 tendency of the stage.
 
 120 THE THEATRE. 
 
 But such a reformation has not been left 
 untried. Enough has been done to show the 
 improbability of its ever being accomplished. 
 Notwithstanding these attempts, the moral 
 tendency of the theatre remains now what it 
 ever has been. And this fact we regard as 
 a very strong argument against the stage. 
 
 The immoral tendency of the art was de- 
 tected soon after its invention. Solon, the 
 wise lawgiver of Athens, while he, in com- 
 mon with his countrymen, participated in the 
 amusements of the theatre, was not ignorant 
 of the evil which their great influence might 
 accomplish, if not properly regulated. He 
 was aware of the fascinations of the stage, 
 and of the devotion of the people to that 
 species of entertainment. 
 
 When the plays of Thespis appeared, 
 abounding as they did with fictions and mis- 
 representations, he at once saw their tendency 
 to corrupt the morals of the people; and ac- 
 tuated by a regard to the public welfare, and 
 not wishing to deprive the people of their 
 favorite diversion, he condemned, not the 
 drama as an art, but such plays as he con- 
 sidered immoral, and corrupting in sentiment.
 
 THE THEATRE. 121 
 
 "If we applaud falsehood in our public exhi- 
 bitions," said he to Thespis, " we shall soon 
 find that it will insinuate itself into our most 
 sacred encasements." Such was the saga- 
 cious foresight of Solon, and he attempted to 
 obviate the evil he apprehended. But what 
 was his success? A friend to the drama 
 testifies that "the excessive approbation and 
 delight with which both the city and country 
 received the pieces of Thespis and Susarion, 
 at once justified and rendered useless the 
 suspicious foresight of Solon." Ency. Brit. 
 
 Here it is admitted that there was just 
 ground for the suspicion entertained by Solon, 
 in regard to the moral tendency of these plays. 
 It is also admitted that his attempt to reform 
 the drama was "useless." The cause of the 
 failure of this attempt is also intimated ; the 
 plays were adapted to the depraved taste of 
 the people, and on this account, they were 
 received both in the city and in the country, 
 with "excessive approbation and delight." 
 Here is the secret cause of the failure which 
 attended all subsequent attempts to reform 
 the stage. The reformation must begin with 
 
 11
 
 122 THE THEATRE. 
 
 the people, before it can ever reach effectually 
 their diversions. 
 
 The next attempt at reformation which we 
 shall notice, occurred under the Christian 
 dispensation. Gregory of Nazianzen, who 
 died A. D. 389, who was both a poet and a 
 father of the church, persuaded the people of 
 Byzantium to represent on their theatre, some 
 chosen stories of the Old and New Testament, 
 and to banish from their stage, the profane 
 compositions of Sophocles and Euripides. 
 
 The motive by which the father was ac- 
 tuated, was doubtless a good one. He saw 
 the tendency of a profane and licentious 
 drama, and supposed that the evil might be 
 corrected, by enlisting the theatre in the 
 cause of religion. But this "extraordinary 
 coalescence," as it is justly denominated by 
 the London Quarterly Review, was found to 
 be ineffectual. For in order to make it at 
 all acceptable to the people, as an amusement, 
 it was found necessary to introduce low wit 
 and buffoonery, which, by its admixture with 
 sacred truth, rendered the theatre, if possible, 
 more licentious and immoral than before.
 
 THE THEATRE. 123 
 
 These scripture plays have always been found 
 to foster infidelity, and a contempt for sacred 
 things. 
 
 If the theatre should become the ally of 
 the pulpit, and be made the vehicle of the 
 same sober and pious sentiments, it must 
 become as grave and solemn as the pulpit. 
 In this case, it would cease to be an amuse- 
 ment. It would only be another mode of 
 preaching and enforcing the same gospel 
 truths. He that goes to church for the sake 
 of amusement, cannot expect to be profited. 
 The truths of the Bible were never intended, 
 nor are they calculated to afford merriment. 
 They were not inspired for this object, but 
 rather to induce a godly sorrow for sin, and 
 an humble reliance on Christ for salvation. 
 To pervert them to purposes of sport and 
 amusement is a gross sacrilege. And unless 
 they be thus perverted, they cannot answer 
 the ends of the drama, and the theatre in 
 which they are exhibited will be forsaken by 
 all the lovers of pleasure, and must fail of 
 support. 
 
 A similar attempt to dramatize the Bible 
 was subsequently made in France and Eng-
 
 124 THE THEATRE. 
 
 land, but with no better success. We have 
 already stated that religious plays were very 
 early introduced on the English stage. In 
 these exhibitions, the clergy were the principal 
 performers. 
 
 Dr. Adams, in his Elements of Moral Philo- 
 sophy, remarks that "it must have been the 
 impression that dramatic representations, if 
 under good regulation, might be turned to a 
 good purpose, that the events, transactions, 
 and characters of the Bible, and even the 
 most sublime mysteries of the Christian faith, 
 were at one time dramatized by the clergy, 
 and represented in public. How extensive 
 those representations were in Italy, France, 
 and England, and other Christian countries, 
 in the thirteenth and succeeding centuries, is 
 well known to every one who is familiar with 
 the history of literature. The scenes, events, 
 characters, and doctrines of Scripture were 
 not only adapted to dramatic representations 
 by the clergy, but this was conducted under 
 their direction. The churches were used as 
 theatres, in which to exhibit these "sacred or 
 spiritual dramas," as they were called, and 
 the actors were often, if not generally, the
 
 THE THEATRE. 125 
 
 clergy themselves. In fitting up and patroni- 
 zing such representations, the clergy, we may 
 presume, acted from the best possible motives; 
 to wit, the desire to communicate religious 
 knowledge, and to impress the great scenes, 
 transactions, and doctrines of revelation on 
 the minds of the people, by availing them- 
 selves of the powerful aid of dramatic repre- 
 sentation to effect this object, and by thus 
 bringing this most perfect of the imitative 
 arts into the service of religion. Still with 
 such motives, and under the direction of the 
 hierarchy, powerful as it was in those days, 
 the inherent vices of all representations of 
 this kind were found to cling to them, and 
 they were gradually relinquished, from the 
 conviction that they were worse than useless. 
 Architecture, music, poetry, painting, and 
 statuary, have all been brought into the ser- 
 vice of religion, and have greatly contributed 
 to its hold on the respect and affections of 
 mankind; but it has been proved, after a fair 
 actual experiment, that neither religion nor 
 morals have any good to expect from any 
 kind of dramatic representation. (See Bou- 
 terwek's History of Spanish and Portuguese 
 11*
 
 126 THE THEATRE. 
 
 Literature, Vol. I. pp. 501-521 ; Vol. II. pp. 
 89-99 ; Sismondi, La Litterature du Midi de 
 l'Europe, Vol. I. pp. 337-349; Edinburgh 
 Encyclopaedia, art. Drama.) 
 
 This religious theatre is acknowledged on 
 all hands to have soon become corrupt and 
 licentious. This fact further appears from 
 the complaint of the chaunters of St. Paul's 
 Cathedral, in 1378, that Scripture plays had 
 fallen into low hands, to the great discredit 
 of religion. Certain " inexpert people," as 
 they say in their petition to Richard the 
 Second, had rendered the representations of 
 the Old Testament so ridiculous, as both to 
 favour libertinism and infidelity, and to do no 
 small prejudice to the complainants, "who 
 had been at great expense to represent the 
 same publicly at Christmas." Thus early 
 did the British stage afford proof that all at- 
 tempts to reform it were ineffectual. 
 
 The manner in which those " inexpert peo- 
 ple," against whom the complaint was made, 
 represented these religious plays, was more 
 in accordance with the prevailing taste, 
 and hence their performances were more 
 popular, and more numerously patronized,
 
 THE THEATRE. 127 
 
 " to the no small prejudice of the complain- 
 ants." 
 
 Although their performances " favoured 
 libertinism and infidelity," yet they were 
 more relished by the multitude, drew crowds, 
 filled the pockets of the actors, and, in a 
 word, answered all the practical ends of the 
 drama. 
 
 Very soon after the introduction of the 
 mysteries into Spain, the drama became a 
 disgusting compound of low provincial farce, 
 and of gross and gloomy superstition. " In 
 order," says one who writes in defence of 
 the stage, " to convey a tolerable idea of the 
 extent to which the prodigious absurdity, as 
 well as blasphemy of those pieces was car- 
 ried, it will be sufficient to relate the scheme 
 of one of those called ' The Creation.' Adam 
 enters on one side, and the Creator on the 
 other, Chaos stands in the middle, and Adam 
 entreats the Creator to destroy Chaos, and to 
 create man. To this moment, it is said, the 
 Spanish drama is in some degree infected 
 with these abominable, blasphemous absur- 
 dities." 
 
 When the grossness of the Spanish drama
 
 128 THE THEATRE. 
 
 became apparent to the more intelligent of 
 the nation, great talents were employed in 
 active efforts to redeem it from what were 
 called its abuses. 
 
 To accomplish this, they composed dia- 
 logues which they called comedies. " The 
 excellent intention of these authors," says the 
 writer just quoted, " merited a better fate 
 than the pieces experienced, for they were 
 little attended to; and being utterly incompe- 
 tent to the purpose they were designed to 
 produce, they made no impression, effected 
 no amendment in the public taste, manners, 
 or morals, and left the people in the same 
 state of gross libertinism in which they found 
 them. Failing of effect in the shape in which 
 they were originally composed, recourse was 
 had to alteration : by slow and gradual inter- 
 polations they were changed, till they became 
 saturated with that very licentiousness they 
 were first intended to explode."* It is con- 
 tended, however, by this and other writers on 
 the subject, that a reformation of the Spanish 
 drama was effected. But how? By transla- 
 tion. Some of the Greek and Latin plays 
 
 * Mirror of Taste, vol. iii. p. 163.
 
 THE THEATRE. 129 
 
 were turned into Castilian prose. Whether 
 this change can he regarded as deserving the 
 name of a reformation, let those judge who 
 are acquainted with the moral character of 
 the ancient classical drama. 
 
 In later times, we find further attempts to 
 reform the stage. Mrs. Hannah More's sa- 
 cred dramas were written with that view, yet 
 it was a failure; and she, more than twenty 
 years after, expressed the want of hope that 
 the stage would ever be reformed. Her 
 failure in the work of reform, was not owing 
 to a lack of dramatic talent; for "Dr. John- 
 son and Mr. Garrick, no mean authorities on 
 such a question, are said to have spoken of 
 her talents in dramatic writing, in very san- 
 guine terms; terms which the applause be- 
 stowed upon " Percy," prove to have been 
 well merited." If Mrs. More, who possessed 
 such peculiar talents for this department of 
 labour, gave up the matter in despair, it cer- 
 tainly is no slight proof of the impracticability 
 of reforming and purifying the drama. Her 
 deliberate conviction, after many years of re- 
 flection and observation on the subject, was, 
 that the theatre is "an amusement incom-
 
 130 THE THEATRE. 
 
 patible with the character of a sincere Chris- 
 tian." 
 
 The difficulty in purifying the drama, 
 arises not so much from the want of drama- 
 tic genius and talent, as from the nature of 
 the achievement. In order to be attractive 
 to the play-going community, it must contain 
 much that is impure and unchristian. The 
 virtues and graces of religion are too insipid 
 to the lovers of the drama. Ambition, jea- 
 lousy, rage, revenge, and all the licentious 
 passions, seem essential to a popular play. 
 Without these it is destitute of zest, and can- 
 not long interest the mind or sympathies of 
 such an audience as is usually found in the 
 theatre. 
 
 We have, however, a still more recent la- 
 bourer in the work of dramatic reformation, 
 in the person of the Rev. James Plumptre, 
 formerly of Cambridge, England. It appears 
 that this gentleman was not formerly aware 
 of the unchristian spirit of the theatre, and 
 that he was indebted to Mrs. Hannah More 
 for having his eyes opened on the subject, as 
 he acknowledges in the dedication of one of 
 his works. As soon as he became aware of
 
 THE THEATRE. 131 
 
 the fact, he set himself to reform the stage of 
 this " unchristian spirit." He declares his 
 object thus: "I have judged it right, with my 
 altered sentiments, to do what lies in my 
 power — however little that may be — to pu- 
 rify it (the theatre) from its corruption, and 
 render it more worthy the attention of a 
 Christian." In his dedication to Mrs. More, 
 he thus addresses her : " I make no doubt, 
 that had you thought proper to have written 
 plays conformable to your present impres- 
 sions of Christianity, you might have begun 
 a good work, which, though perhaps slow in 
 its progress at first, might have spread, and 
 increased, and strengthened, till it had effected 
 the reformation which you consider as at once 
 so desirable and so hopeless." Mr. Plumptre 
 was undoubtedly a firm believer in the feasi- 
 bility of the enterprise on which he had en- 
 tered. But if he was unable to detect the 
 " unchristian spirit" of the theatre, until it 
 was pointed out to him by Mrs. More, we 
 ought not to be surprised that he should have 
 so readily adopted the visionary plans which 
 he attempted to execute, in the purification 
 of the drama. We commend his benevolent
 
 132 THE THEATRE. 
 
 motives, but must regard his scheme as wild 
 and Utopian. 
 
 .Mr. Plumptre, however, in the prosecution 
 of his design, published, in 1810, four dis- 
 courses on the stage, preached before the 
 Cambridge University. In 1812, he pub- 
 lished " The English Drama Purified, being a 
 specimen of plays in which all the passages 
 which have appeared to the editor objection- 
 able, in point of morality, are omitted, or 
 altered." And in 1818, he published his 
 " Original Dramas," which are certainly free 
 from all immoral sentiment. 
 
 Mr. Plumptre thinks that the theatre ought 
 not to be put down, but purified, and turned 
 to good account, by making it the means of 
 improving the morals of the people, and of in- 
 culcating the loftiest sentiments of piety and 
 virtue. He admits that the stage, as it is 
 now, and ever has been conducted, is decid- 
 edly unfriendly to public morals. But his at- 
 tempt to reform it, though well intended, yet 
 like those of others before him, has proved to 
 be a Quixotic expedition; and has made 
 about as much impression on the theatre, as 
 did the lance of the redoubtable knight of La
 
 THE THEATRE. 133 
 
 Mancha, upon the windmill, which he cour- 
 ageously encountered. 
 
 An able writer, alluding to this subject, re- 
 marks thus : " We have 'waived the point, 
 whether genius of a very superior order, un- 
 der the influence of Christian principles, might 
 or might not be able to produce compositions 
 of a highly moral and religious kind, which 
 should rival in the public taste, the present 
 run of theatrical compositions. Even were 
 this to be effected, the preference, after all, 
 would not be given to the moral, but to the 
 intellectual qualifications of the writer : and 
 it is not saying too much for the stage to sup- 
 pose that although it would make a sacrifice, 
 the sacrifice was not to religion, but to ge- 
 nius; and that had the genius been produced 
 without the religion, it would have been equally 
 or even more acceptable, while the religion, 
 except under the protecting segis of genius, 
 would have been scouted as an unwelcome 
 intruder. It goes far to decide the point, that 
 religious persons in general, have thought it 
 necessary rather to abandon the stage alto- 
 gether, than to attempt its purification." 
 
 The learned Dr. Milner, in his history of 
 12
 
 134 THE THEATRE. 
 
 the church, has the following just observa- 
 tions on the evil tendency of the stage, and 
 the impossibility of reforming it. " To say," 
 remarks the historian, " that there are noble 
 sentiments to be found in some dramas, an- 
 swers not the purpose of those, who would 
 vindicate the entertainments of the stage. 
 The support of them requires a system in its 
 own nature corrupt; a system which must 
 gratify the voluptuous and the libidinous, or 
 it can have no durable existence. Hence, in 
 every age, complaints have been made of the 
 licentiousness of the stage; and the necessity 
 of keeping it under proper restraints and reg- 
 ulations, has been admitted by its greatest 
 admirers. But it is, I think, a great mistake 
 to suppose that the stage may remain a fa- 
 vourite amusement, and at the same time, be 
 so regulated as not to offend the modest eyes 
 and ears of an humble Christian. The gravest 
 advocates for the theatre expect pleasure 
 from it rather than instruction. If, therefore, 
 you believe that human nature is corrupt and 
 impure, only ask yourself what sort of drama- 
 tic exhibitions and conversations will be most 
 likely to meet with the applause of the peo-
 
 THE THEATRE. 135 
 
 pie; — and you will soon be led to conclude, 
 that the play-house is, and must be a school 
 of impurity. 
 
 The first Christians felt the force of this 
 obvious argument, and they rejected the stage 
 entirely. A Christian, renouncing the pomps 
 and vanity of this wicked world, and yet fre- 
 quenting the play-house, was with them a 
 solecism. The effusion of the Holy Spirit, 
 which, during three centuries we are now re- 
 viewing, never admitted these amusements 
 at all. The profession of the dramatic art, 
 and the profession of Christianity, were held 
 to be absolutely inconsistent with each 
 other." "What would Cyprian have said, 
 had he seen large assemblies of Christians, 
 so called, devoted to these impurities, and 
 supporting them with all their might, and 
 deriving from them the highest delight? 
 Such persons must, certainly, be strangers to 
 the joy of the Holy Ghost; and I cannot but 
 wonder why they choose to retain the name 
 of Christians. Then, if he had examined 
 their stage entertainments, and compared 
 them with those that were in vogue in his 
 own day, would he not have seen the same
 
 136 THE THEATRE. 
 
 confusion of sexes, the same encouragement 
 of unchaste desires, and the same sensuality, 
 with the same contemptuous ridicule of 
 Christianity? — if, indeed, in his time, the 
 Gospel was ever burlesqued on the stage, as 
 it has frequently been in ours. In some 
 points of lesser consequence, the ancient 
 drama might differ from the modern; but, on 
 the whole, the spirit and tendency was the 
 same."* 
 
 If such a reformation of the stage as would 
 make it consistent for Christians to patronize 
 it, be at all possible, it must evidently com- 
 mence with the people, and not with the 
 stage. Now, to what influence shall we look 
 for a radical reformation of the taste and 
 morals of the people ? We put this question 
 to the friends and advocates of the drama. 
 Many of them see, and acknowledge its evil 
 tendency, as at present conducted, and they 
 desire to witness a reformed or legitimate 
 drama. It is true they patronize it as it is, 
 with all its abuses, rather than forego the 
 amusement altogether. But they desire to 
 see it rid of its abuses, and made subservient 
 
 * Milner's Church History, Vol. I. pp. 206, 207.
 
 THE THEATRE. 137 
 
 to the cause of virtue. They see and admit, 
 moreover, that the stage is, and always will 
 be, just what its patrons make it. To what 
 source of influence, then, shall we turn our 
 eyes, for the purification of the tastes and 
 morals of the people. Philosophers and 
 moralists, legislators and dramatists, have all 
 exerted their efforts, for ages past, to reform, 
 refine, and purify the people, but in vain. 
 
 There is one instrumentality, which is ad- 
 mitted, even by those who hate and reject it, 
 to be efficient, but perhaps it is the last to 
 which a reformer of the stage would think of 
 looking for aid. We mean the pure religion 
 of the Gospel of Christ. 
 
 This is acknowledged, even by infidels, to 
 be the purest system of morals extant. Its 
 efficacy in reforming the dispositions, tastes, 
 and habits of mankind, has long been tested, 
 and is perhaps undoubted. Let the friends 
 of the drama, who sincerely wish to see it 
 reformed of its abuses, encourage and sustain 
 the institutions of relioion : and if theatrical 
 representations, under any circumstances, be 
 consistent with humble piety, they will more 
 likely be reformed and patronized by Chris- 
 12*
 
 138 THE THEATRE. 
 
 tians, than if subjected to any other process 
 of purification. Candour requires us how- 
 ever, to state what we firmly believe — that 
 the remedy would destroy the patient. We 
 believe that the tendency of religious influence 
 is to discourage this species of amusement. 
 And wherever, and whenever, it becomes 
 predominant, the theatre will be shut up. 
 This opinion is corroborated by the following 
 observations, extracted from a late London 
 paper. 
 
 "Theatricals have long been in a languid 
 and declining state in this country, arising 
 from the increased prevalence of simpler and 
 purer tastes. The wider diffusion of true 
 religion, on the one hand, and the multiplied 
 establishment of Mechanics' Institutes and 
 similar societies, on the other, have been 
 attended by a corresponding diminution in 
 the numbers of those who consume away 
 their leisure hours, in such pernicious excite- 
 ment as that of the acted drama. 
 
 "This charge has not, of course, passed 
 unperceived by the members of the dra- 
 matic profession, whether actors or authors. 
 Certain recent movements of theirs, evince
 
 THE THEATRE. 139 
 
 that they are quite sensible of it. Judging 
 by those movements, however, they would 
 seem to have underrated the causes which 
 have led to the desertion of their exhibitions. 
 They appear to think, that by paying a 
 somewhat more plausible regard to external 
 decorum, in the administration of the theatre, 
 and by substituting what they call legitimate 
 drama, for the ridiculous strings of low and 
 profane jests which are the basis and super- 
 structure of the modern " farce," they shall 
 recover their lost ground, and bring back to 
 their empty benches, the more respectable 
 classes, by whom those benches used to be 
 occupied. If this is the nature of their cal- 
 culation, though it is not our business to warn 
 them, they are in danger of falling between 
 the two stools. Some from rational, and 
 some from religions conviction, many who 
 formerly patronized the theatre, have now 
 turned their backs upon it; and, though it 
 might be difficult to decide with which they 
 were most disgusted — the looseness of the 
 lobby, or the swearing on the stage, yet we 
 are persuaded that the growing unpopularity 
 of theatrical representations amongst the
 
 140 THE THEATRE. 
 
 middle class, is to be traced chiefly to the 
 persuasion, that the excitement they pro- 
 duce is unwholesome and pernicious; and 
 calculated, like all factitious stimuli, to blunt 
 the sensibilities." 
 
 The truly pious abandon the theatre, not 
 only because it is pernicious in its influence, 
 but also because they regard it as incurable. 
 As a system, it is adverse to the public good. 
 It has proved to millions of youth the sure 
 road to destruction, and has undermined the 
 peace of families, and the prosperity of em- 
 pires.
 
 THE THEATRE. 141 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 AUTHORITIES AGAINST THE THEATRE. 
 
 The testimony which is on record against 
 the stage, comes from such a variety of 
 sources, and from men so different in other 
 respects, in their characters and views, that 
 it cannot be liable to the charge of gloomy 
 sanctimoniousness, nor illiberal fanaticism. 
 In citing these witnesses, we scarcely know 
 where to begin. The following summary is 
 given in the language of another: 
 
 " Plato, Livy, Xenophon, Cicero, Solon, 
 Cato, Seneca, Tacitus, the most venerable 
 men of antiquity; the brightest constellation 
 of virtue and talents which ever appeared 
 upon the hemisphere of philosophy, have all 
 denounced the theatre as a most abundant 
 source of moral pollution; and assure us that 
 both Greece and Rome had their ruin accele- 
 rated by a fatal passion for these corrupting 
 entertainments.
 
 142 THE THEATRE. 
 
 "William Prynne, a satyrical and pungent 
 writer, who suffered many cruelties for his 
 admirable productions in the time of Charles 
 I., has made a catalogue of authorities against 
 the stage, which contains every name of emi- 
 nence in the heathen and Christian worlds. 
 It comprehends the united testimony of the 
 Jewish and Christian Churches. The delibe- 
 rate acts of fifty-four ancient and modern, 
 general, national, and provincial councils and 
 synods, both of the Western and Eastern 
 Churches: the condemnatory sentence of se- 
 venty-one ancient fathers, and one hundred 
 and fifty modern Popish and Protestant au- 
 thors ; the hostile endeavours of philosophers 
 and poets, with the legislative enactments of 
 a great number of pagan and Christian states, 
 nations, magistrates, emperors, and princes. 
 
 " The American Congress, soon after the 
 declaration of independence, passed the fol- 
 lowing motion: ' Whereas, true religion and 
 good morals are the only solid foundation of 
 public liberty and happiness, Resolved that it 
 be, and hereby is, earnestly recommended to 
 the several States, to take the most effectual 
 measures for the encouragement thereof, and
 
 THE THEATRE. 143 
 
 for the suppressing of theatrical entertain- 
 ments, horse-racing, gaining, and such other 
 diversions as are productive of idleness, dis- 
 sipation, and a general depravity of principles 
 and manners.' 
 
 "Now must not this be regarded in the 
 light of very strong presumptive evidence of 
 the immoral tendency of the stage ? Does it 
 not approach, as near as can be, to the gene- 
 ral opinion of the whole moral world?" 
 
 The Spartans differed in opinion from their 
 neighbours, with regard to the moral tendency 
 of the stage. During a reign of thirty-six 
 years, Agesilans, who held the drama in con- 
 tempt, discouraged and kept the actors in de- 
 pression. 
 
 The opinion that the theatre induced effe- 
 minacy, and cherished corrupt morals, pre- 
 vailed among all ranks of the Lacedaemonian 
 people. It is related that once when Calli- 
 pedes, a celebrated tragedian, offered his 
 homage to Agesilaus, and for some time re- 
 ceived no notice in return ; he said to the 
 king, " Do you not know me, Sir?" To which 
 the king replied, "You are Callipedes the 
 actor," and turned from him with contempt.
 
 144 THE THEATRE. 
 
 This feeling of contempt for the stage, 
 extended even to the slaves of the Spartans, 
 some of whom, being taken prisoners of war 
 by the Thebans, and ordered to sing the odes 
 of Terpander for their captors, peremptorily 
 refused to comply, because it was forbidden 
 them by their old masters. 
 
 In all Greece, the Spartans stood alone in 
 their opposition to the theatre. But the 
 Spartans knew how to stand alone in the 
 pass of Thermopylae. 
 
 Tacitus says that the German ladies were 
 defended from danger, and preserved their 
 honour, by having no play-house among 
 them. 
 
 In allusion to this remark of Tacitus, a 
 modern English writer observes that, "the 
 case is altered now, and the seducing dramas 
 of Germany are imported into our country 
 for the improvement of the British ladies." 
 
 Francis I., who is called the " Father of 
 Letters," cannot be charged with unfriendli- 
 ness, or even indifference to the cause of lite- 
 rature, yet he twice suppressed the theatre in 
 his kingdom. 
 
 As the drama in France had passed from
 
 THE THEATRE. 145 
 
 mysteries to moralities, and from moralities 
 to farces, the government took the depraved 
 condition of the stage into consideration, de- 
 prived the players of the theatre, and restored 
 it to the purposes of its original institution; 
 converting it back again into an hospital of 
 the Holy Trinity. 
 
 Francis I., in order to make another trial 
 of the tendency of the stage, restored the 
 players to the privileges they enjoyed in the 
 fourteenth century. They continued to act 
 for four years, at the end of which time the 
 King was satisfied that the tendency of the 
 stage was immoral and corrupting, and or- 
 dered the theatre to be demolished. 
 
 In 1580 a petition was presented to Queen 
 Elizabeth, to suppress all play-houses in the 
 city of London, which was accordingly ef- 
 fected ; and we believe that they have never 
 since been suffered within the jurisdiction of 
 the corporation. 
 
 The following account of this petition is 
 taken from " Rawlidge's Monster lately found 
 out." 
 
 " Many godly citizens, and other well-dis- 
 posed gentlemen of London, considering that 
 13
 
 146 THE THEATRE. 
 
 play-houses were traps for young gentlemen 
 and others, and perceiving the many incon- 
 veniences and great damage that would ensue 
 upon the long suffering of the same, not only 
 to particular persons but to the whole city; 
 and that it would also be a great disparage- 
 ment to the governors, and a dishonour to the 
 government of this honourable city, if they 
 should any longer continue; acquainted some 
 pious magistrates therewith, desiring them to 
 take some course for the suppression of com- 
 mon play-houses within the city of London 
 and liberties thereof; who thereupon made 
 humble suit to the Queen and her Privy 
 Council, and obtained leave of her Majesty 
 to thrust the players out of the city, and to 
 pull down all play-houses within their liber- 
 ties; which accordingly was effected. And 
 the play-houses in Grace-church Street, &c. 
 were quite put down and suppressed." 
 
 Without affirming that all who attend the 
 theatre are immoral in their lives, which is 
 not the fact, we suppose it cannot be denied, 
 that the most polluted and polluting charac- 
 ters of the town are sure to be there. The 
 attractions of the theatre are of such a nature
 
 THE THEATRE. 147 
 
 as to draw into it, and around it, the lowest 
 characters of both sexes. Brothels, gambling- 
 houses, and tippling-houses, seem to be the 
 almost invariable concomitants of a theatre, 
 and thereby render it a nuisance to any 
 neighbourhood in which it may be situated. 
 Thus the theatre leads the way to, and be- 
 comes the patron of every other form of ini- 
 quity. This gave rise to the petition for 
 their suppression in London in 1580. And 
 Sir John Hawkins, in his life of Johnson, re- 
 marks that, " although it is said of plays that 
 they teach morality, and of the stage, it is the 
 mirror of human life; these assertions have 
 no foundation in truth, but are mere declama- 
 tion: on the contrary, a play-house, and the 
 region about it, are the hot-beds of vice. 
 How else comes it to pass, that no sooner is 
 a theatre opened in any part of the kingdom, 
 than it becomes surrounded by houses of ill- 
 fame? Of this truth, the neighbourhood of 
 the place I am now speaking of, (Goodman's 
 Fields Theatre,) has had experience; one 
 parish alone, adjacent thereunto, having, to 
 my knowledge, expended the sum of £1300 
 in prosecutions, for the purpose of removing
 
 148 THE THEATRE. 
 
 those inhabitants, whom for instruction in 
 the science of human life, the play-house had 
 drawn thither." 
 
 To go back for a moment in the quotation 
 of authorities, we find that Tertullian, in his 
 book on public diversions, reminds Christians 
 that the nature of their faith, no less than 
 reason and the discipline of the Church, had 
 shut them out from the entertainments of the 
 town; they had nothing to do with the phren- 
 sies of the race-ground, the licentiousness of 
 the theatre, or the cruelties of the bear-gar- 
 den. " Will you not then," he adds, " avoid 
 this seat of infection? The very air suffers by 
 their impurities. What though the perform- 
 ance may in some measure entertain? What 
 though innocence, yea, and virtue too, shine 
 through some part of it ? It is the custom to 
 prepare poison palatably." 
 
 The following extracts from an epistle of 
 Cyprian, contain his testimony against the 
 stage. 
 
 " Cyprian to Eucratius his brother. Health: 
 Your love and esteem have induced you, 
 dearest brother, to consult me as to what I 
 think of the case of a player among you, who
 
 THE THEATRE. 149 
 
 still continues to instruct others in that infa- 
 mous and miserable art, which he himself 
 hath learnt. You ask whether he should be 
 allowed the continuance of Christian com- 
 munion? I think it very inconsistent with the 
 majesty of God, and the rules of the Gospel, 
 that the modesty and honour of the Church 
 should be defiled by so base and infamous a 
 contagion." " By these means boys will not 
 be improved in any thing that is good, but 
 absolutely ruined in their morals." 
 
 Bradwardin, Archbishop of Canterbury, 
 wrote against the stage in 1345. He was 
 followed by Wick! iff, the morning star of the 
 Reformation, who wrote against the theatre in 
 1380. 
 
 In later times we find the testimony of Sir 
 Matthew Hale contained in the following 
 anecdote. 
 
 " Sir Matthew Hale was an extraordinary 
 proficient at school, and for some time at 
 Oxford; but the stage players coming thither, 
 he was so much corrupted by seeing plays 
 that he almost wholly forsook his studies. 
 By this he not only lost much time, but found 
 that his head was thereby filled with vain 
 13*
 
 150 THE THEATRE. 
 
 images of things; and afterwards sensible of 
 the mischief of this, he resolved, upon his 
 coming to London, never to see a play again, 
 to which resolution he constantly adhered." 
 
 Archbishop Tillotson's testimony is as fol- 
 lows: " But as the stage now is, they, (plays,) 
 are intolerable, and not fit to be permitted in 
 a civilized, much less in a Christian nation. 
 
 " They do most notoriously minister both 
 to infidelity and vice. By the profaneness of 
 them, they are apt to instil bad principles into 
 the minds of men, and to lessen the awe and 
 reverence which all men ought to have for 
 God and religion ; and by their lewdness they 
 teach vice, and are apt to infect the minds of 
 men, and dispose them to lewd and dissolute 
 practices. 
 
 " And therefore I do not see how any per- 
 son pretending to sobriety and virtue, and 
 especially to the pure and holy religion of 
 our blessed Saviour, can, without great guilt 
 and open contradiction to his holy profession, 
 be present at such lewd and immodest plays, 
 much less frequent them, as too many do, 
 who yet would take it very ill to be shut 
 out of the communion of Christians, as they
 
 THE THEATRE. 151 
 
 would most certainly have been in the first 
 and purest ages of Christianity." 
 
 Mr. Wilberforce, in his " Practical View," 
 speaking of plays says; "there has been 
 much argument concerning the lawfulness of 
 theatrical amusements ; let it be sufficient to 
 remark, that the controversy ought to be 
 short indeed, if the question were to be tried 
 by this criterion of love to the Supreme 
 Being. If there were any thing of that sen- 
 sibility for the honour of God, and that zeal 
 in his service which we show in behalf of our 
 earthly friends, or of our political connexions, 
 should we seek our pleasure in that place 
 which the debauchee, inflamed with wine, or 
 bent on the gratification of other licentious 
 appetites, finds most congenial to his state and 
 temper of mind? In that place, from the neigh- 
 bourhood of which, (how justly termed a 
 school of morals might hence alone be in- 
 ferred,) decorum, modesty, and regularity 
 retire, while riot and lewdness are invited to 
 the spot, and invariably select it for their 
 chosen residence! Where the sacred name 
 of God is often profaned ! Where sentiments 
 are often heard with delight, and motions and
 
 152 THE THEATRE. 
 
 gestures often applauded, which would not be 
 tolerated in private company, but which may 
 far exceed the utmost license allowed in the 
 social circle, without at all transgressing the 
 large bounds of theatrical decorum ! Where, 
 when moral principles are inculcated, they 
 are not such as a Christian ought to cherish 
 in his bosom, but such as it must be his daily 
 endeavour to extirpate ; not those which Scrip- 
 ture warrants, but which it condemns as false 
 and spurious, being founded on pride and 
 ambition, and the over valuation of human 
 favour." 
 
 The testimony against the stage, furnished 
 by Roman Catholic writers, is very strong 
 and decided. 
 
 It appears from Butler's Life of Bossuet, 
 that the stage was " always viewed, even by 
 the state, with a considerable jealousy; that a 
 capitulary of Charlemagne ranks theatrical 
 performers amongst discreditable persons; 
 that Philip Augustus banished actors from 
 his court; that St. Louis would never admit 
 them to it; that Louis XIII. subjected the 
 theatre to severe regulations, and that these 
 regulations were adopted, and others pro-
 
 THE THEATRE. 153 
 
 vided, by a legislative enactment, addressed 
 by Louis XIV. to the Lieutenant General de 
 Police." So much for the testimony of the 
 French nation. That of the French Church 
 is not less decided. The same writer says 
 that, " a multitude of French provincial coun- 
 cils speak harshly of them, (theatres:) nume- 
 rous passages against the stage are cited 
 from the ritual of particular churches; and 
 among the inveighers against it, its adversa- 
 ries are proud to mention, of the royal blood 
 of France, Francis Louis, Prince of Conti." 
 
 Even under all the restrictions which the 
 Legislature of France imposed on theatrical 
 exhibitions, the venerable bishop of Meaux 
 does not hesitate to describe them as replete 
 with compositions, " in which the virtues and 
 piety of a Christian are generally held out to 
 ridicule; in which, what the Gospel pro- 
 nounces to be criminal, is generally defended 
 and made agreeable; in which virgin purity 
 is often blurred by impudent acts and words. 
 And can you assert," continues the Bishop, 
 " that such compositions are free from 
 crime?" 
 
 The Fathers of the Church bore a similar
 
 154 THE THEATRE. 
 
 testimony to the immoral character and ten- 
 dency of the stage. But it has been asserted, 
 that "when the early Fathers of the Church 
 disapproved of the attendance at the theatre, 
 there were many reasons to induce them, 
 which can have no influence now. Christi- 
 anity was then but in its infancy, the stage 
 was pre-occupied by the pagan, and the 
 drama was often made the vehicle of invoca- 
 tion to the gods, of praise to heathenism, and 
 of ridicule of the religion of Jesus, which 
 might have been detrimental to the steadiness 
 of the Neophyte." To this assertion Bos- 
 suet replies in the following language : " But 
 you must have read the Fathers very care- 
 lessly, if you find that in the theatrical exhi- 
 bitions of their times, the Fathers condemned 
 nothing more than their idolatrous represen- 
 tations, or their scandalous and open impuri- 
 ties. They equally condemn the idleness, the 
 enormous dissipation of spirit, the violent 
 emotions so little becoming a Christian, 
 whose heart should be the sanctuary of the 
 peace of God, the desire of seeing and being 
 seen, the criminal occurrence of looks, the 
 being engrossed with vanity, those bursts of
 
 THE THEATRE. 155 
 
 laughter which banish from the heart all re- 
 collection of God, of his holy presence, of his 
 awful judgments. 
 
 "In the midst of all this pomp and agitation, 
 who, they ask, can raise his heart to God? 
 Who would be bold enough to address him- 
 self to the Deity, and say to him, 'O my 
 God, I am here, because it is thy will?'" 
 
 The eloquent Massillon, in his sermon on 
 "the small number of the saved," thus ad- 
 dresses his audience: "You continually de- 
 mand of us, if theatres and other places of 
 amusement be innocent recreations for Chris- 
 tians? In return, I have only one question 
 to ask you ; are they the works of Satan, or of 
 Jesus Christ? for there can be no medium in 
 Religion. I mean not to say but what many 
 recreations and amusements may be termed 
 innocent: but the most innocent pleasures 
 religion allows, and which the weakness of 
 nature renders even necessary, belong in one 
 sense to Jesus Christ, by the facility with 
 which they ought to enable us to apply our- 
 selves to more holy and more serious duties. 
 Every thing we do, every thing we rejoice 
 or weep at, ought to be connected with Jesus
 
 156 THE T H E A TRE. 
 
 Christ, and done for his glory. Now, upon 
 this principle, the most incontestible, and 
 most universally allowed in Christian mo- 
 rality, you have only to decide whether you 
 can unite the glory of Jesus Christ with the 
 pleasures of a theatre. Can our Saviour 
 take any part in such a species of recreation? 
 And before you enter a theatre, can you with 
 confidence declare to him, that in so doing, 
 you only propose his glory, and the satisfac- 
 tion of pleasing him ? What ! are the theatres, 
 such as they are at present, still more criminal 
 by the public licentiousness of those unfor- 
 tunate creatures who appear in them, than 
 by the impure and passionate scenes they 
 represent — are the theatres the works of 
 Jesus Christ? Would Jesus Christ animate 
 a mouth, from which are to proceed sounds 
 lascivious, and calculated to corrupt the 
 heart? But these blasphemies strike me 
 with horror! Would Jesus Christ preside in 
 assemblies of sin, where every thing we hear, 
 weakens his doctrines; where the poison 
 enters the soul by all the senses; where 
 every art is employed to inspire, awaken, 
 and justify the passions he condemns? Now,
 
 THE THEATRE. 157 
 
 says Tertullian, if they are not the works of 
 Jesus Christ, they must be the works of 
 Satan. Every Christian ought therefore to 
 abstain from them: when he partakes of them, 
 he violates the vows of baptism. However 
 innocent he may natter himself to be, in 
 bringing from these places an untainted heart, 
 it is sullied by being there ; since by his pre- 
 sence alone, he has participated in the works 
 of Satan, which he had renounced at baptism, 
 and violated the most sacred promises he 
 had made to Jesus Christ and his Church." 
 
 The learned Dr. Milner, a Roman Catholic 
 divine, makes the following declaration: "It 
 is my full and deliberate persuasion, that the 
 extreme profligacy and irreligion of the pre- 
 sent age, are more to be ascribed to the 
 prevalence and credit of theatrical amuse- 
 ments, than to any other cause whatever." 
 
 To these authorities, we may add a para- 
 graph quoted by the London Roman Catholic 
 Miscellany, from an unpublished letter of the 
 late prelate of Midland district. " In confir- 
 mation of this opinion, I might quote, not 
 now the fathers of the church, but the most 
 celebrated pagan legislators, philosophers, 
 14
 
 158 THE THEATRE. 
 
 and even poets of ancient and modern times; 
 a Plato, a Cicero, a Plutarch, an Ovid, and 
 even a Jean Jacques Rousseau. But you will 
 say, is not the stage much reformed? Is not 
 indecency banished? To this I answer, that 
 indecent expressions, indeed, are not quite so 
 common in the plays of this age, as they 
 were in those of the last two centuries. But 
 the lessons they contain are as bad or even 
 worse than of those in question. A bad word, 
 however sinful, produces but a momentary 
 effect, and in a virtuous mind, causes horror: 
 but a bad lesson, or a dangerous passion, 
 that is insensibly instilled into the breast, and 
 fixed there by all those powerful engines I 
 have described, is calculated to undermine, 
 and lay in ruins the whole fabric of morality." 
 
 Infidels and deists have not been backward 
 in recording their testimony against the stage. 
 It is well known that Rousseau strongly pro- 
 tested against the introduction of theatrical 
 amusements at Geneva, on the ground of 
 their tendency to corrupt the people. 
 
 "It is impossible," he says, "that an es- 
 tablishment so contrary to our ancient man- 
 ners, can be generally applauded. How
 
 THE THEATRE. 159 
 
 many generous citizens will see with in- 
 dignation this monument of luxury and ef- 
 feminacy raise itself upon the ruins of our 
 ancient simplicity, and menace public liberty! 
 Do you think they will authorize this inno- 
 vation by their presence, after having loudly 
 disapproved it? Be assured that many go 
 without scruple to the theatre at Paris, who 
 will never enter that of Geneva, because the 
 good of their country is dearer to them than 
 their amusement. Where would be the im- 
 prudent mother who would dare to carry her 
 daughter to this dangerous school ; and how 
 many respectable women would think they 
 dishonoured themselves in going there?" 
 
 Let those parents who profess to regard 
 and believe in the Christian religion, but 
 who nevertheless, encourage their children to 
 attend the theatre, sit at the feet of an infidel, 
 and learn on this subject, the lessons of wis- 
 dom and virtue. Let them blush to receive 
 so just a rebuke from one who does not even 
 profess to derive his principles of morality 
 from the Gospel, but from the light of nature. 
 Here is testimony which no one can call 
 "religious prejudice and fanaticism." Let
 
 160 THE THEATRE. 
 
 those who boast of morality, those who pro- 
 fess a regard for the public welfare, and yet 
 patronize and encourage the theatre, take 
 heed to it, and pause. 
 
 This philosopher, in other places, treats at 
 large, of the immoral character of players. 
 We quote the following as a specimen, and 
 as a part of his argument against the stage. 
 " I observe in general," he remarks, " that 
 the situation of an actor is a state of licen- 
 tiousness and bad morals." " In all countries, 
 their profession is dishonourable ; those who 
 exercise it are every where contemned. Even 
 at Paris, where they are treated with more 
 consideration, and where their conduct is 
 better than in any other place, a sober citizen 
 (un bourgeois) would fear to be upon terms 
 of intimacy with the same actors who may 
 be seen every day at the tables of the great. 
 A further observation, of no less importance, 
 is that this contempt is strongest, wherever 
 the manners are the most pure, and that 
 there are countries of innocence and sim- 
 plicity, where the trade of an actor is held 
 almost in horror. These are incontestible 
 facts. You will say that they result only
 
 THE THEATRE. 161 
 
 from prejudices. — I agree to it. But these 
 prejudices being universal, we must seek for 
 an universal cause ; and I do not see where 
 we can find it, except in the profession itself." 
 
 "I might impute these prejudices to the 
 declamations of priests, if I did not find them 
 established among the Romans before the 
 birth of Christianity; and not only vaguely 
 scattered in the mind of the people, but au- 
 thorized by express laws, which declared 
 actors infamous, and took from them the title 
 and rights of Roman citizens." " The pagan 
 priests and devotees, who were favourable to 
 theatrical exhibitions, inasmuch as they made 
 part of the public games in honour of religion, 
 had no interest in decrying them." 
 
 Mr. Moralt, in his letters upon the French 
 and English nations, ascribes the corruption 
 of manners in London, to comedy, as its 
 chief cause. "Their comedy," says he, "is 
 like that of no other country ; it is the school 
 in which the youth of both sexes familiarize 
 themselves with vice, which is never repre- 
 sented there as vice, but as mere gaiety." 
 
 " As for comedies," says Diderot, in his Ob- 
 servations upon Dramatic Poetry, " the Eng- 
 14*
 
 162 THE THEATRE. 
 
 lish have none; they have in their place 
 satires, full indeed of gaiety and force, but 
 without morals and without taste, sans mceurs, 
 et sans gout." 
 
 The Legislature of Massachusetts, until 
 near the close of the. last century, continued 
 to bear a most decided and praiseworthy tes- 
 timony against the stage, by declaring all 
 theatrical performances unlawful and immo- 
 ral. The players, however, at length evaded 
 the statute by announcing, for example, that 
 " on Monday evening will be delivered at the 
 exhibition room, in ; Broad Alley, a Moral 
 Lecture, enforced by the affecting history of 
 Jane Shore, which will be alternately recited 
 by Messrs. Harper, Powell, &c; the eve- 
 ning's exercises to conclude with an Amusing 
 Lecture in the facetious narrative of Chro- 
 
 NONHOTONTHOLOGOS." 
 
 The theatre thus conducted by evasion, 
 and in contempt of the law of the land, pro- 
 duced its legitimate effect. The tide of im- 
 morality rushed through ' this inlet, and so 
 generally spread itself among the people, that 
 the offensive statute was repealed, and the 
 theatre legalized.
 
 THE THEATRE. 163 
 
 Mr. James, in his "Christian Father's 
 Present," relates, on the best authority, the 
 following anecdote of Shuter, the comedian, 
 whose facetious powers convulsed whole au- 
 diences with laughter. " Shuter had heard 
 Mr. Whitefield, and trembled with apprehen- 
 sion of a judgment to come; he had also fre- 
 quently heard Mr. Kinsman, and sometimes 
 called on him in London. One day accidentally 
 meeting him in Plymouth, after some years 
 of separation, he embraced him with rapture, 
 and inquired if that was the place of his resi- 
 dence; Mr. Kinsman replied, 'yes, but I am 
 just returned from London, where I have 
 preached so often, and to such large audito- 
 ries, and have been so indisposed, that Dr. 
 Fothergill advised my immediate return to 
 the country for change of air.' ' And I,' said 
 Shuter, ' have been acting Sir John Falstaff 
 so often, that I thought I should have died, 
 and the physicians advised me to come into 
 the country for the benefit of the air. Had 
 you died, it would have been in serving the 
 best of masters; but had i, it would have 
 been in the service of the devil. Oh, Sir, do 
 you think I shall ever be called again? I cer-
 
 164 THE THEATRE. 
 
 tainly was once; and if Mr. Whitefield had 
 let me come to the Lord's table with him, I 
 should never have gone back again. But 
 the caresses of the great are exceedingly en- 
 snaring. 
 
 " ' My Lord E. sent for me to-day, and I was 
 glad I could not go. Poor things ! they are 
 unhappy, and they want Shuter to make them 
 laugh. But oh, Sir ! such a life as yours ! As 
 soon as I leave you, I shall be King Richard. 
 This is what they call a good play, as good 
 as some sermons. I acknowledge there are 
 some striking and moral things in it; but 
 after it, I shall come again with my farce of 
 i A Dish of all sorts,' and knock all that on the 
 head. Fine reformers are we.' 
 
 " Poor Shuter ! once more thou wilt be an 
 object of sport to the frivolous and the gay, 
 who will now laugh at thee, not for thy drol- 
 lery, but for thy seriousness ; and this story, 
 probably, will be urged against thee as the 
 weakness of a noble mind; weakness let it 
 be called, but in spite of himself, man must 
 be serious at last. And when a player 
 awakes to sober reflection, what agony must 
 seize upon his soul. Let those auditories,
 
 THE THE A TRE. 165 
 
 which the comic performer has convulsed 
 with laughter, witness a scene in which the 
 actor retires, and the man appears ; let them 
 behold him in the agonies of death, looking 
 back with horror on a life of guilt, while des- 
 pair is mingled with forebodings of the future. 
 Players have no leisure to learn to die ; and 
 if a serious thought wander into the mind, the 
 painful sigh which it excites is suppressed, 
 and with an awful desperation, the wretched 
 creature rushes into company, to be delivered 
 from himself."
 
 166 THE THEATRE. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 IS THE THEATRE A MIRROR OP NATURE ? 
 
 So strong and so decided is the testimony 
 which establishes the immoral tendency of 
 the stage, that many of its advocates find it 
 necessary to claim for it something more 
 than simply an innocent recreation. They 
 suppose, and perhaps correctly, that if they 
 claim nothing more for it, others will not 
 award to it so much. As an offset to the 
 charge of immorality, imposing characteris- 
 tics are attributed to the theatre. It is called 
 the mirror of nature, the school of virtue, &c. 
 The inappropriateness of these high sounding 
 titles, has tended to weaken, rather than 
 strengthen the plea for the stage. That it 
 does not reform the morals of the people, 
 will generally be more readily admitted, than 
 that it corrupts them. Many are willing to 
 regard it as a harmless amusement, who can 
 not defend it as a school of virtue.
 
 THE THEATRE. 167 
 
 Let us examine the pretension of the thea- 
 tre to be the mirror of nature. The amount 
 of it is, that the exhibitions of the stage are 
 in strict accordance with human nature as it 
 is, including the vices, follies, and virtues of 
 mankind, and that these exhibitions are faith- 
 ful; so that in this mirror we may see our- 
 selves as we really are, and as we are seen 
 by others. It is thought that by being thus 
 led to look upon our faults, we may be in- 
 duced to correct them. For several hundred 
 years, human nature has been thus profess- 
 edly held up to public view, and yet no refor- 
 mation of heart or life can be traced to the 
 stage. The lewd and profligate of both 
 sexes, who have so long and so frequently 
 looked upon this mirror, remain such still. 
 Indeed, if this mirror be faithful, we may 
 infer that the worst of mankind love to look 
 upon their faults, as it is notorious that such 
 most frequently attend the theatre. The sen- 
 sation they experience, when witnessing the 
 exhibitions of their vices, is pleasure, not pain. 
 Whereas the contemplation of one's faults 
 and misdeeds, should be accompanied by 
 sorrow and repentance, if we are to hope for
 
 168 THE THE AT R E. 
 
 any amendment. When such a contempla- 
 tion affords merriment and pleasure, we can 
 not expect reformation. In defence of the 
 stage it is said, that to see vice punished, 
 tends to deter men from the practice of it. 
 Such too, it has been supposed, would natu- 
 rally be the tendency of public executions. 
 But after a fair experiment, the reverse has 
 been found to be the case. On such occa- 
 sions the worst characters are commonly as- 
 sembled; and even while the culprit is suffer- 
 ing the penalty of the law, the law itself is 
 often violated by some of the crowd, in pur- 
 loining the property of bystanders. And it 
 has been found that the frequency of public 
 executions, tends to diminish even the little 
 good which they are supposed to effect. 
 Hence, the practice is beginning to be aban- 
 doned. And we believe that ere long it will 
 be universally exchanged for a mode of exe- 
 cution more private. 
 
 The practice was founded in a misappre- 
 hension of some of the traits of human na- 
 ture. Too much reliance was placed upon 
 our susceptibility of being beneficially im- 
 pressed by the exhibition of penal suffering.
 
 THE THEATRE. 169 
 
 The argument in favour of the stage is 
 founded on the same misapprehension of hu- 
 man nature. On minds of a peculiar struc- 
 ture, salutary impressions may be made by 
 the representation of vice and its reward. 
 But such minds are not common; and least 
 likely of all others, either to need such 
 impressions, or to be found in a theatre to 
 receive them. 
 
 It is, moreover, reversing the order of 
 things, to teach wholesome lessons by bad 
 examples. Examples of vice will corrupt the 
 mind, and for this reason we are anxious that 
 our children may avoid them. Examples of 
 virtue and piety are held up before them for 
 imitation. 
 
 It is altogether a mistake to suppose that 
 because examples of virtue may lead us to 
 practise it, therefore examples of vice will 
 lead us to shun it. That very principle of 
 our nature which renders a good example 
 beneficial to us, will render a bad example 
 pernicious to us, namely the imitative prin- 
 ciple. The benefit of a good example is 
 always attributed to this principle, and so 
 also is the injury of a bad example. Now, 
 15
 
 170 THE THEATRE. 
 
 to make the argument for the theatre a good 
 one; it must be shown that this imitative 
 principle will lead us to avoid vice, when it 
 acts upon an example of vice, and to practise 
 virtue when it acts upon an example of vir- 
 tue. But to avoid vice by imitating it, is a 
 contradiction, and therefore, an absurdity. 
 
 Our propensity to imitate examples, will 
 lead us to imitate, not to shun vice, when we 
 witness examples, or exhibitions of it. 
 
 If, then, the theatre be a mirror of nature, 
 in which are to be seen the vices and follies 
 of mankind, with here and there a virtue; it 
 is an argument against the stage, rather than 
 in favour of it. And this argument accumu- 
 lates strength by the following considerations. 
 
 1. As the vices of mankind are far more 
 numerous than their virtues, and as the 
 vicious passions of our nature are more ex- 
 citing, and therefore better adapted to dra- 
 matic purposes, than the mild and placid vir- 
 tues of the heart, we may naturally expect to 
 witness in a theatre, the exhibition of the for- 
 mer, much more frequently than of the latter. 
 
 2. As the heart is naturally and strongly in- 
 clined to evil, rather than good, this bias will
 
 THE THEATRE. 171 
 
 lead us to imitate more readily and fully the 
 examples of vice, than those of virtue. It is 
 much more easy, on this account, to corrupt 
 by bad example, than to reform by good ex- 
 ample. 3. These exhibitions of vice are ac- 
 companied with so much pageantry and 
 splendour, and made so attractive and fasci- 
 nating, as to produce in the mind of the 
 spectator, pleasure rather than aversion. This 
 circumstance destroys all the good effect, 
 which, otherwise, might possibly be produced 
 by the exhibition of vice in all its naked de- 
 formity; and thus defeats the very end which 
 is professedly sought. 
 
 This mirror of nature is supposed to hold 
 up to the view of the audience, their faults 
 and vices, so that, by seeing them exhibited, 
 they may be induced to correct them. 
 
 This theory is also founded on a mistaken 
 view of human nature. Mankind are not so 
 ready either to recognize or acknowledge 
 their faults, as this theory supposes. It is a 
 general truth, that " all the ways of a man 
 are clean in his own eyes." We are prone 
 "to think more highly of ourselves than we 
 ought to think." Each one is more disposed
 
 172 THE THEATRE. 
 
 to apply reproof to his neighbour than to 
 himself. He can see a mote in his brother's 
 eye, while he may have a beam in his own. 
 The most faithful and striking delineation of 
 a vicious life may be heard either in a theatre, 
 or from the pulpit, yet how very few, to whom 
 it is applicable, will either recognize it, or 
 admit it to be their own ? 
 
 In addition to this, we may observe, as a 
 general fact, that even when men become 
 in any degree sensible of their faults, they 
 are disposed to palliate, excuse, or justify 
 them. It is no easy matter to bring mankind 
 to the acknowledgment and forsaking of their 
 vices. The pulpit has long been engaged in 
 this arduous task, and although its efforts are 
 accompanied with the promised blessing of 
 God, yet how few, comparatively, are per- 
 suaded to turn from the error of their ways! 
 How few cease to do evil, and learn to do 
 well ! 
 
 There is one circumstance to which we 
 have more than once alluded, connected with 
 all scenic representations, which will always 
 hinder the exposure of vice from having a 
 beneficial effect upon the audience. That
 
 THE THEATRE. 
 
 173 
 
 circumstance is the merriment and pleasure 
 which the exhibition is designed and adapted 
 to afford. If the pulpit should adopt the 
 same method of exposing vice, who does not 
 see that the very end of its institution would 
 be defeated? And yet mankind are the 
 same, whether found in the theatre or the 
 church. And if the exposure of vice from the 
 pulpit, when made in a merry and ludicrous 
 manner, would inculcate, rather than dis- 
 courage it, we may not hope for a different 
 result from a similar exposure of it on the 
 stage. 
 
 Even if the claim of the theatre to be the 
 mirror of nature were well founded, it would 
 not prove that it was a school of virtue and 
 of good morals. The character of the world, 
 and the conduct of mankind in general, afford 
 examples which the youthful mind, inexpe- 
 rienced and sanguine, with its passions and 
 propensities, cannot safely witness. The 
 exhibitions of vice in real life, exert a baneful 
 influence over the most of those who are 
 familiar with them. We apprehend that the 
 fictitious representation of vice, however faith 
 ful, will not counteract, but rather strengthen 
 15*
 
 174 THE THEATRE, 
 
 that influence. Many pernicious examples, 
 which some might not be called to witness, in 
 real life, are thus brought to view, and exert 
 their injurious influence, in proportion to the 
 fidelity of the representation. If the imitative 
 principle be so strong in man, as we know it to 
 be, the cause of virtue would be promoted, 
 by withholding from the young and inexpe- 
 rienced, the scenes of folly and wickedness, 
 with which the world abounds. If, on the 
 other hand, the mere representation of these 
 scenes in the play-house, subserves the cause 
 of good morals, and exerts so happy an in- 
 fluence over the youthful heart, much more 
 the reality. Hence, instead of counselling 
 our children to avoid evil company, and shun 
 the society of the vicious, we should send 
 them to the gambling house, the brothel, and 
 to all the haunts of profligacy and crime, and 
 duly initiate them into the arts of the seducer, 
 and into all the wiles and intrigues of wicked 
 and designing men. Thus versed in all the 
 accomplishments of the courtesan and the 
 knave, think ye, that our sons and daughters 
 would become more virtuous, attractive, and 
 useful? If so, then the theatre is a school of
 
 THE THEATRE. 175 
 
 virtue. For it claims to be the mirror of 
 nature. And what do we behold in that 
 mirror? A portion of the audience may 
 recognize in it their own character; but will 
 the virtuous, the moral, the meek, the for- 
 giving, the useful portion of the audience 
 recognize theirs ? Let any one read the plays 
 that are most popular, and consequently, 
 most frequently acted, and he will see that 
 vice and immorality, under some form or 
 other, run throughout them, and give zest to 
 the performance. This boasted mirror re- 
 flects back upon the audience, the characters 
 of the vicious and profane. For this reason, 
 we say, why not go to the original at once, 
 and learn the lessons of virtue it has to give? 
 Shocked as you may be at this suggestion, 
 it is nevertheless true, that the representation 
 of vice at the theatre, is far more injurious to 
 the virtuous and moral, than would be the 
 exhibition of it in real life. Because, there it 
 appears in disguise; here, in all its naked 
 deformity. The grossness of the reality 
 would shock the virtuous sensibilities of the 
 beholder, and fill him with disgust and pain. 
 But the colouring of the representation is so
 
 176 THE THEATRE. 
 
 artfully and treacherously arranged, the garb 
 of virtue is so adroitly adjusted, that the 
 mind of the spectator may be disarmed even 
 of suspicion. And should the real character 
 of the sentiment represented, be detected 
 through its borrowed covering, still its gross- 
 ness is so chastened by the blending of higher 
 and more commendable qualities, that the 
 mind admits to its contemplation, the deco- 
 rated monster, more perhaps on the credit of 
 its accompanying qualities, than its own; and 
 the sensation experienced is that of pleasure. 
 The artifice has succeeded. A mind, once 
 keenly alive to the odiousness of undisguised 
 vice, is thus made to derive pleasure from 
 the exhibition of it, in connexion with hypoc- 
 risy and falsehood. The spectator may 
 perceive the cheat, but he is pleased with the 
 illusion. The romance of crime triumphs 
 over its enormity; for his love of pleasure is 
 stronger than his hatred of vice. Once, his 
 mind cherished the association of pain with 
 vice, but now the theatre has broken up that 
 association, and by enabling him to derive 
 pleasure from the representation of vice, 
 an opposite association is formed, which is
 
 THE THEATRE. 177 
 
 strengthened by each successive exhibition, 
 and the restraints of virtue are proportionably 
 weakened. 
 
 Villany, artifice, intrigue, and lewdness, 
 now dance before his heated and corrupted 
 imagination, decked with the plumes of ho- 
 nour, bravery, magnanimity, and renown. 
 He lives in a world of fancy, and sips the cup 
 of sensual pleasure. Vice and virtue are but 
 unmeaning names. Their substance has va- 
 nished, and a new quality compounded of the 
 two, has appeared, and is worshipped as the 
 standard of morals. Such is this enchanted 
 mirror! Such is the power of that magic 
 sceptre, which is swayed in this school of 
 virtue! 
 
 The stage is not a faithful mirror. There 
 " vice wears the garb, assumes the name, and 
 claims the reward of virtue." Facts are mis- 
 represented, and truth is caricatured. 
 
 "Stage-poets," says Thomas Fuller, the 
 church historian, " have themselves been very 
 bold with, and others very merry at, the 
 memory of Sir John Oldcastle; whom they 
 have fancied a boon companion, a jovial 
 roister, and yet a coward to boot, contrary
 
 178 THE THEATRE. 
 
 to the credit of all chronicles, owning him a 
 martial man of merit. The best is, Sir John 
 FalstarT hath relieved the memory of Sir 
 John Oldcastle, and of late is substituted buf- 
 foon in his place." 
 
 This species of misrepresentation charac- 
 terized the stage as far back as the time of 
 Socrates, who owed his death to a most base 
 instance of it. 
 
 This distinguished philosopher, aware of 
 the evil tendency of the stage, expressed his 
 disapprobation of the licentiousness of the 
 comic poets and players, both as it respected 
 their conduct and writings. This exaspe- 
 rated Aristophanes, who conspired with three 
 others to seek revenge. 
 
 The great reverence which the people 
 cherished for his character, defended him 
 from the assaults of his enemies, until Aris- 
 tophanes, by caricature and wit, destroyed 
 that reverence which was his protection. In 
 the comedy of " The Clouds," he cast such 
 ridicule upon the venerable philosopher, as to 
 destroy the respect of the mob for his cha- 
 racter, and their regard for his services. 
 The way being thus prepared, Socrates was
 
 THE THEATRE. 179 
 
 arraigned before the tribunal of five hundred, 
 and on false charges, was convicted by the 
 testimony of suborned witnesses. This fact 
 illustrates the unfaithfulness of this mirror of 
 nature, and, moreover, shows what a danger- 
 ous influence the stage may acquire over the 
 mass of the people. It was not without a 
 deep knowledge of human nature, that one 
 said, " let me make the ballads of a nation, 
 and I care not who makes its laws." Let 
 the stage be once clothed with that control- 
 ling influence which the system is so well 
 adapted to create, and "our lives, our for- 
 tunes, and our sacred honour" are at its 
 mercy. The pulpit and the religious press, 
 with the divine blessing, must save the coun- 
 try from this, as well as from every other 
 internal foe. 
 
 The stage presents a false view of human 
 nature, and erects a false standard of right 
 and wrong. The spendthrift is called a libe- 
 ral man, the murderer a man of honour and 
 courage, the libertine a gentleman of pleasure 
 and fashion, and his accomplishments are in 
 proportion to his cunning and artfulness. 
 
 Even the laudable avocations of life are
 
 180 THE THEATRE. 
 
 grossly caricatured. The clergyman is either 
 a hypocrite or a fool; the lawyer is a knave; 
 the physician is a quack; the learned man is 
 a pedant; and the tradesman is either a miser 
 or a rogue. 
 
 The virtues of human life are misrepre- 
 sented. Meekness is called a stupid want 
 of spirit. Forbearance is called cowardice. 
 Forgiveness of injuries is a weakness. Chas- 
 tity is prudery. Humility is affectation. A 
 high toned morality is sanctimoniousness. 
 Religion is fanaticism, &c. &c. 
 
 Thus, in this mirror of nature, vice appears 
 as virtue, and virtue as vice.
 
 THE THEATRE, 181 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IS THE THEATRE A SCHOOL OF VIRTUE ? 
 
 It has been contended in behalf of the the- 
 atre, that it is a school of virtue and good 
 morals. Most writers in defence of the stage, 
 however, content themselves with advancing 
 this position conditionally — that if it were 
 reformed, and rid of its abuses, it might be- 
 come an institution favourable to virtue. 
 
 While even this position may be justly 
 questioned, yet it entirely abandons the claim 
 set up for the theatre in its present state; 
 and amounts to an admission that as now 
 conducted, it is unfriendly to virtue and good 
 morals. That this has always been the case 
 appears abundantly, both from its history, 
 and from the unsuccessful attempts which 
 have been made to reform it. A writer in 
 the Encyclopaedia Britannica, who evidently 
 favours the stage, charges the evils of the 
 theatre upon the taste and desires of those 
 16
 
 182 THE THEATRE. 
 
 who patronize it. " It has been frequently a 
 subject of debate," says he, "whether the 
 stage be favourable to morals. We do not 
 mean to enter into the controversy; but we 
 will make an observation or two. It will be 
 allowed by all, that the intention of the play- 
 ers in acting, is to procure money; and the 
 intention of the audience in attending the 
 theatre, is to seek amusement. The players, 
 then, will only act such plays as they believe 
 will answer their intention. And what sort of 
 plays are these? They are such as corres- 
 pond with the opinions, manners, and taste of 
 the audience. If the taste of the audience be 
 gross, therefore, the plays will be gross; if 
 delicate and refined, they will be the same. 
 And if we go back to the time of Shakspeare, 
 we shall find that this has been uniformly the 
 case. The conclusion, then, which we draw 
 is this, if the taste of the audience be pure, 
 free from licentiousness, the plays will be the 
 same, and the stage will be favourable to 
 virtue." 
 
 This, however, can not be considered an 
 argument in favour of the stage, although it 
 seems to be all that its advocate could say in
 
 THE THEATRE. 183 
 
 its behalf. It is rather an admission of the 
 immoral tendency of the theatre, with an 
 attempt to account for it. It is immaterial 
 to the point before us, to what cause the evil 
 in question is chargeable. All we have to do 
 at present is with the fact, which seems here 
 to be admitted. And it is no palliation of 
 the evil to say, that it is owing to the de- 
 praved taste and manners of the people. For 
 if the stage is determined to cater to the 
 public taste, the argument against it remains 
 unaffected. 
 
 As the human heart is depraved, and as 
 the public taste has consequently always 
 called for plays of an injurious tendency, and 
 as the stage must be modeled after the taste 
 of its patrons, it follows that the stage will 
 never be reformed, till the influence of reli- 
 gion has so reformed the people, as to change 
 and correct their present taste. All attempts 
 at reformation hitherto, have been commenced 
 at the wrong end. We must first reform the 
 public taste, and if successful, the reformation 
 of the stage will follow as a matter of course. 
 This will account for the fact that the stage 
 never has been so reformed as to become
 
 184 THE THEATRE. 
 
 favourable to virtue; and it affords the 
 strongest presumptive evidence that it never 
 will be. It bars out from the stage all re- 
 form, till its patrons are reformed. And if it 
 be a school of virtue, why has it not reformed 
 them long ago? 
 
 The truth is, that the reforming influence 
 must proceed from the audience, and ope- 
 rate upon the stage, and not vice versa. The 
 people must become the school of virtue, and 
 the stage must become their pupil. Instead 
 of the stage teaching the people what they 
 ought to be, the people dictate to the stage 
 what it must be. The stage thus gratifies the 
 present vitiated taste of its patrons, and by 
 gratifying, strengthens it. The stage instead 
 of mortifying and correcting, constantly che- 
 rishes that very taste of the public on which 
 are charged all its abuses. How, then, can 
 it be, or become a school of virtue? 
 
 It seems to be evident that such a refor- 
 mation of the people as is thought necessary 
 to purify the stage, would in fact destroy it 
 altogether. For as men become truly pious 
 they abandon the theatre, not only as perni- 
 cious, but also as incurable. It is conse-
 
 THE THEATRE. 185 
 
 quently left to be patronized, controlled, and 
 modeled by those who encourage its abuses. 
 
 Should an attempt to reform it be made by 
 a manager of sufficient wealth, and moral 
 courage, and only such pieces exhibited as 
 inculcated the purest morality, free from 
 every licentious sentiment or allusion, the 
 majority of its present patrons would proba- 
 bly forsake it, as insipid and uninteresting, 
 while the accession of new patrons would be 
 too small to sustain it. 
 
 Corneille's Polieucte was condemned on 
 account of the religious sentiment which it 
 contained. It was submitted to the actors, 
 for their approbation, in 1640. But there 
 was in it a scene touching religion, the awful- 
 ness of which struck the principal performer 
 with a persuasion, that it demanded a solem- 
 nity in the execution of it, not practised on 
 the stage ; and indeed, that it required a total 
 departure from the usual extravagance and 
 frivolity of scenic representation. It was 
 consequently rejected. It happened that one 
 of the actors, who was intrusted by the rest 
 to return it to Corneille, took it into his head 
 to take another glance at it, as he walked 
 16*
 
 186 THE THEATRE. 
 
 up and down his chamber; and meeting a 
 passage in it which, to his own delicate 
 taste, was very offensive, and greatly dis- 
 composed his temper, dashed it out of 
 his hand, throwing it in such a direction 
 that, by mere accident, it fell upon the tester 
 of his bed, and he thought no more of it — or 
 at least, he did not think it was worth his 
 while to give himself any further trouble 
 about it, and there left it. About eighteen 
 months after, an upholsterer, being employed 
 to take down the bed, found it, and it was 
 restored to its author. Corneille resolved to 
 press forward the representation of it; and to 
 that end, read the piece to a body which then 
 constituted the most learned and liberal tri- 
 bunal over all literary controversies existing 
 in France, and which met at the Hotel de 
 Rambouillet. Out of regard to the feelings 
 of the author, the members applauded the 
 piece in his presence; but after his departure, 
 they committed it in charge to M. de Voiture, 
 to inform Corneille, in the most delicate 
 manner possible, that Polieucte was not 
 viewed by that body, with that encouraging 
 warmth that might be expected; and that
 
 THE THEATRE. 187 
 
 there were some passages in it, those es- 
 pecially which touched upon religion, that 
 displeased them. Corneille now determined 
 to withdraw it from the stage, but having left 
 it in the hands of the actors, they resolved to 
 make the experiment of a representation. 
 Bellerose, a celebrated actor, who performed 
 the part of Severus, was averse to the intro- 
 duction, in any way, of a subject so sacred, 
 on the mimic scene; but it being determined 
 to act the play, he undertook the part with 
 emotions of reverential awe, and exerted 
 himself to make it as solemn and impressive 
 as possible. The play pleased that portion 
 of the audience, which appreciated the value 
 of public morality; and especially the muni- 
 cipal government, which, in order to discoun- 
 tenance the theatre, on account of its licen- 
 tious tendency, had imposed very severe 
 disqualifications upon the members of the 
 histrionic profession. 
 
 As this performance promised a reformation 
 of the stage, the following arret or decree 
 was made in its favour: 
 
 "In case the said comedians regulate the ac- 
 tion of their performances, so as to be entirely
 
 188 THE T HE A TRE. 
 
 free from impurity, we will that their exhi- 
 bitions, as by this means they will innocently 
 amuse the public, be considered as void of 
 blame and reproach ; and also, that their oc- 
 cupation shall not be pleaded as an impedi- 
 ment to the exercise of business or connexion 
 in public commerce."* 
 
 While the religious sentiment and grave 
 performance of the Polieucte pleased one 
 portion of the audience, the genius displayed 
 in it pleased the remainder, to whom it would 
 have been quite as acceptable, if not more so, 
 without the religion. 
 
 The rejection of this play by the actors, 
 and its subsequent condemnation by the lite- 
 rary tribunal of France, on account of its 
 religious sentiment, show very clearly what 
 amount of favour morality and piety may 
 expect from the stage. 
 
 Its genius, and not its religion, was its 
 recommendation to public favour. The pub- 
 lic taste in this respect is very well under- 
 stood by dramatists; and as their object is 
 to make money, and not to reform the peo- 
 ple, they are left to this alternative, either to 
 
 * Mirror of Taste, Vol. III. p. 332.
 
 THE THEATRE. 189 
 
 abandon the stage altogether, as a means of 
 support, or to adapt it to the taste of the 
 majority. The latter is their choice. Now 
 what is the taste of the majority? A late 
 English writer answers the question thus: 
 
 " The vicious tendencies of the majority of 
 the population, and more especially in cities, 
 are not matters of speculation, they are mat- 
 ters of fact and daily experience. That these 
 tendencies were early in operation, we have 
 the testimony of Holy Writ ; and in modern 
 times, even the atheist Hobbes has given his 
 evidence to the same effect. This depraved 
 population, then, being the majority, would by 
 the withdrawal of their patronage, ruin the 
 stage. It has, therefore, been always the 
 object of the managers to minister to the 
 gratification of their vitiated tastes. Gar- 
 rick's Prologue upon Prologues, and the 
 greater part of the spoken addresses, bear 
 testimony to the fact." 
 
 We say again, that it is no apology for the 
 stage to say that the taste of the majority of 
 its patrons is vitiated. If, as a consequence 
 of this, the tendency of theatrical amusements 
 is injurious to the public morals, this simple 
 fact, apart from its cause, is quite sufficient
 
 190 THE THEATRE. 
 
 for our argument. It is surprising to see the 
 self-complacency and air of triumph with 
 which the defenders of the stage attempt to 
 cast the odium of its licentiousness upon the 
 depraved appetites of the people, as if that, 
 in the smallest degree, absolved the stage 
 from the [guilt of ministering to them. If a 
 whole community should crave poison, no 
 one would be justified, on that account, in 
 administering it. 
 
 Even the great Dr. Johnson seems to have 
 overlooked this fact, when he wrote the fol- 
 lowing lines in defence of the stage: for the 
 truth contained in them is in fact a condem- 
 nation of it, agreeably to the principles 
 already laid down. 
 
 " Hard is his lot that here hy fortune placed, 
 Must watch the wild vicissitudes of taste; 
 With every meteor of caprice must play, 
 And chase the new-blown bubbles of the day. 
 Ah ! let not censure term our fate our choice, 
 The stage but echoes back the public voice; 
 The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, 
 For we that live to please; must please to live. 
 Then prompt no more the follies you decry, 
 As tyrants doom their tools of guilt to die." 
 
 Here it seems to be conceded that the the- 
 atre does not, and never can exert a reform- 
 ing influence over the public taste. It but
 
 THE THEATRE. 191 
 
 "echoes back the public voice." If that 
 voice be in favour of licentiousness and im- 
 morality, such will the drama be also. So 
 that unless the restraints of virtue are 
 strengthened by the gratification of a viti- 
 ated taste, the theatre can not be regarded 
 as the school of good morals. 
 
 In proportion as the taste and habits of a 
 community become purified, the patronage of 
 the theatre ceases, whereas if it were a 
 school of virtue, or even a harmless enter- 
 tainment, this would not be the case. 
 
 It is also true that in proportion as the 
 habits of a people become corrupt, the pa- 
 tronage of the theatre increases. It is stated 
 as a fact worthy of consideration, that " du- 
 ring the progress of the most ferocious revo- 
 lutions which ever shocked the face of hea- 
 ven, theatres, in Paris alone, multiplied from 
 six to twenty-five. Now, one of two conclu- 
 sions, follows from this; either the spirit of 
 the times produced these institutions, or the 
 institutions cherished the spirit of the times; 
 and this will certainly prove that they are 
 either the parents of vice, or the offspring 
 of it."
 
 192 THE THEATRE. 
 
 The London Quarterly Review, although 
 it labours to defend the stage, nevertheless 
 contains a candid admission that it cannot be 
 regarded as a school of virtue. In Vol. 17, 
 p. 248, we find the following language: 
 "Possessing and asserting this large share of 
 influence, its (the theatre's) importance has 
 nevertheless been exaggerated, both by those 
 who have attacked, and those who have 
 defended it ; and perhaps, as is often the 
 case, it has suffered more from the zeal of its 
 friends, than from the malignity of its enemies. 
 By the latter, it has been represented as 
 operating to the pollution of morals, the re- 
 laxation of laws, and even the subversion of 
 governments. By the former, it has been 
 praised as not only polishing the manners, 
 and refining the taste of a nation, but as 
 essentially connected with the harmony of 
 society, and the morals of mankind. The 
 truth is that the drama is not a cause, but an 
 effect of the state of society. Men go to a 
 theatre, neither to be improved nor depraved, 
 neither to learn or unlearn the precepts of 
 morality, or the rules of life; they go to it as 
 to a place where the mind is to be employed.
 
 THE THEATRE. 193 
 
 while the senses are gratified; where genius 
 is to appear arrayed in the graces of elocu- 
 tion, and the splendour of external decoration. 
 They go to witness the representation of 
 sufferings to which all are exposed, or of 
 follies in which all have participated; and 
 they return with their principles neither con- 
 firmed nor shaken, except by the operations 
 of the passions which they brought with them, 
 and which would perhaps have operated, if 
 they had never entered the walls of a theatre. 
 They go, in a word, to be amused ; to seek, 
 in the representations of fictitious life, a 
 solace, or a forgetfulness of the evils of 
 reality; and if amusement can be obtained 
 without mischief, though it is the lowest 
 praise with which the admirers of the drama 
 will be contented; it is, perhaps, among the 
 highest that can be bestowed on any known 
 mode of public recreation." 
 
 As the Review can say nothing in favour 
 of the moral tendency of the theatre, it is 
 determined to say nothing against it. In 
 order to preserve this species of neutrality, 
 the Review finds it necessary to deny vir- 
 tually the influence of the drama altogether. 
 17
 
 194 THE THEATRE. 
 
 The extent and power of that influence, how- 
 ever, are too well known to be disbelieved. 
 The want of a good influence is attributed 
 to the want of any influence whatever. This 
 is probably designed to take off the edge of the 
 admission that the theatre has no tendency 
 to improve the morals of mankind. To say 
 that men do not go to the theatre to be de- 
 praved, is no answer to the allegation that 
 they do not go there to be improved. Amuse- 
 ment is the chief object in view, and the 
 question is, whether the amusement is ac- 
 companied by good or evil to the morals of 
 the people? Evil consequences are implied 
 in the above extract, but attributed to the 
 operation of the passions, which the people 
 take with them to the theatre. But these 
 evil passions are there excited and strength- 
 ened, instead of being chastened and subdued. 
 Upon the whole, it seems that nothing 
 more can be claimed for the theatre, by this 
 warm advocate, than that it is a harmless re- 
 creation; that is, it is harmless so far as the 
 effect of the exhibition upon the morals of the 
 people is concerned. But can that be harm- 
 less, which wastes time and money, without
 
 THE THEATRE. 195 
 
 affording in return some improvement or 
 benefit? Is it harmless to spend time and 
 money merely in the indulgence of pleasure? 
 Were they given to rational and accountable 
 beings for no other purpose? 
 
 The amusement itself, apart from its im- 
 moral tendency, is calculated to injure es- 
 pecially the weaker portion of the audience. 
 The excitement occasioned by the exhibition 
 is often too great, and instead of being a 
 recreation becomes exhausting. The object 
 of recreation is to relieve the body and mind, 
 to restore strength, and to produce calm- 
 ness and serenity. But the exhibition of a 
 deeply interesting tragedy overtasks the 
 powers of an audience, and leaves the mind 
 and body in a feverish condition. The time, 
 the place, and the attendant circumstances 
 of the exhibition, all tend to increase, rather 
 than diminish this undue and injurious ex- 
 citement. 
 
 Bayle gives a curious account of a violent 
 fever which raged for several months in 
 Abdera, a city of Thrace. It appears that 
 those who were seized with it, were con- 
 verted into players. They were perpetually
 
 196 THE THEATRE. 
 
 reciting scraps of tragedy, especially of the 
 Andromeda of Euripides, as if they were 
 upon the stage; so that the streets were full 
 of pale and lean actors, who were making 
 tragical exclamations. He quotes Lucian as 
 accounting for its origin thus. Archelaus, a 
 good player, having acted the Andromeda of 
 Euripides, before the citizens of Abdera, du- 
 ring a very hot summer, many came out of 
 the theatre in a fever, and having their ima- 
 ginations deeply affected with the tragedy, 
 the ravings caused by the fever represented 
 nothing to them but Andromeda, Perseus, 
 Medusa, &c, and so strongly excited in them 
 the ideas of those objects, and of the pleasure 
 they had received from the representation, 
 that they could not forbear reciting and act- 
 ing in imitation of Archelaus. This was 
 probably an extreme case, but the tendency 
 of theatrical exhibitions is to produce injuri- 
 ous excitement. The passions are inflamed, 
 the sympathies are excited, and a multitude 
 of various emotions crowd upon and often 
 overwhelm the soul. Disgust, hatred, re- 
 venge, sorrow, joy, and lasciviousness, all 
 revel in the bosom and exhaust its energies.
 
 THE THEATRE. 19? 
 
 The effect of this certainly can not be recre- 
 ation. It is a laborious exercise which pros- 
 trates while it gratifies. The intoxicating 
 bowl may, by its undue excitement, afford 
 momentary pleasure, but it is at the expense 
 of subsequent health and serenity of mind. 
 
 Another injurious effect of the drama, 
 apart from its immoral tendency, is to unfit 
 especially the youthful mind, for the realities 
 of every day life. The drama, like most of 
 the novels and romances of the day, holds up 
 before the mind an ideal state of things. The 
 common events of life are so decked off with 
 imaginary circumstances, that they are not 
 recognized when they actually occur in real 
 life. The mind is taught and trained to live 
 on fancy, and to dwell in a world which is 
 the creature of imagination. Hopes are che- 
 rished only to be blasted; prospects are 
 painted to the mind, never to be realized; 
 and expectations are excited, never to be ful- 
 filled. Consequently the dull realities of life 
 are encountered with feelings of disappoint- 
 ment and disgust. Such individuals can nei- 
 ther be happy nor useful. They become 
 drones in society, and sigh away their fleet- 
 17*
 
 198 THE THEATRE. 
 
 ing days in peevish complaints and fruitless 
 lamentations. 
 
 The theatre, therefore, can be regarded 
 neither as a recreation, nor a harmless 
 amusement. But we believe that theatrical 
 exhibitions are positively immoral, and greatly 
 tend to promote licentiousness of principle 
 and practice They unfit the mind to attend 
 with profit upon the public exercises of in- 
 struction, both religious and scientific. A 
 mind accustomed to the excitement and plea- 
 sure of the drama, will regard the instructions 
 of the pulpit as dull, insipid, and uninterest- 
 ing. It tends to draw off the youthful mind 
 from the attainment of knowledge. In nearly 
 all the large cities, lectures on the sciences 
 are delivered by benevolent and competent 
 gentlemen to the young men. The theatre 
 tempts them to its doors, and the lecture is 
 abandoned. Having experienced the excite- 
 ment of the former, they can no longer re- 
 lish the calm and sober instruction of the 
 latter. 
 
 Hardy, the French dramatist, inspired the 
 people with so passionate a fondness for dra- 
 matic entertainments, and such an avidity for
 
 THE TH E ATRE. 100 
 
 frequenting the theatre, that the perform- 
 ances, which, when he began to write for the 
 stage, never took place more than three times 
 a week, long before he died, took place every 
 day, Sunday itself not excepted. 
 
 The fascinations of the stage, and the cha- 
 racter of sentiment sometimes exhibited, tend 
 to weaken the restraints of virtue and ho- 
 nesty. Money has often been purloined from 
 its lawful owners, by those in their employ, 
 for the purpose of gratifying their desire to 
 attend the theatre.* Here was the tempta- 
 tion : the young man, on whose character 
 till now, there was no foul blot, yields to the 
 temptation and becomes a thief. The barrier 
 
 * Professor Griscom, of New York, in a report on the causes of 
 vice and crime in that city, made three years since, has the fol- 
 lowing statement: 
 
 " Among the causes of vicious excitement in our city, none ap- 
 pear to be so powerful as the theatrical amusements. The num- 
 ber of boys and young men who have become determined thieves, 
 in order to procure the means of introduction to the theatre and 
 circus, would appal the feelings of every virtuous mind, could the 
 whole truth be laid before them. 
 
 " In the case of the feebler sex, the result is still worse ; a relish 
 for the amusements of the theatre, without the means of indul- 
 gence, becomes too often a motive for listening to the first sugges- 
 tions of the seducer, and thus prepares the unfortunate captive of 
 sensuality for the haunts of infamy, and a total destitution of all 
 that is valuable in the mind and character of woman."
 
 200 THE THEATRE. 
 
 is broken down, and he repeats the crime 
 with less compunction of conscience. The 
 desire to attend the theatre is increased by 
 every exhibition he witnesses, and the re- 
 straints of honesty are weakened by every 
 effort to break through them. Under this 
 double influence he rapidly descends in crime, 
 till at length it becomes a habit. Many a 
 culprit may, doubtless, trace his disgrace and 
 suffering to the temptations and fascinations 
 of the theatre.* What wise merchant or 
 tradesman would send his clerk or apprentice 
 to the theatre to study the lessons of virtue, 
 honesty, and fidelity? Are the defenders of 
 the stage willing to act upon their own repre- 
 sentations of its tendency? If the theatre be 
 a school of virtue, then would men be wise 
 to send their clerks and children to witness 
 its exhibitions, for the purpose, not merely or 
 chiefly of amusement, but of instruction in 
 
 * "It was but a few days since," says Rev. J. A. James, of Bir- 
 mingham, " that a venerable and holy man, now the Deacon of a 
 Christian Church, said tome, 'Sir, tbc theatre had nearly brought 
 me to the gallows. There I found associates who introduced me 
 to every crime. When likely to be prevented, by want of money, 
 from going to meet them at the theatre, I robbed my father to 
 gain a shilling admission to the gallery.' "
 
 THE THEATRE. 201 
 
 virtue and good morals. Who will send his 
 daughter there to learn modesty and chas- 
 tity, and to be strengthened and fortified 
 against an impure imagination, and unclean 
 thoughts? Say, thou parent of a lovely daugh- 
 ter, just blooming into womanhood, on whose 
 ear has never yet fallen an unchaste word, 
 and whose young heart has never yet been 
 chilled by one impure insinuation; say, will 
 you send her to the theatre, to witness those 
 lascivious looks and gestures, and to hear 
 those lewd suggestions and licentious senti- 
 ments, which afford so much amusement to 
 the profligate and abandoned of her sex? 
 Will you send her there to learn lessons of 
 virtue, and to keep her mind and heart pure 
 from the touch of obscenity and crime? 
 
 A very remarkable testimony to the im- 
 modesty even of female performers, is borne 
 by Thomas Weston, the comedian, whose 
 ruling passion, even in death, seems to have 
 been facetiousness, if we may judge from his 
 eccentric and humorous will, from which the 
 following is an extract. 
 
 "Item. I leave to the ladies, in general, on 
 the stage, (if not the reality, yet) the appear-
 
 202 THE THEATRE. 
 
 ance of modesty; 'twill serve them on more 
 occasions than they are aware of." 
 
 There sit the beauty and fashion of the 
 city to witness the exhibition of a popular 
 play. The curtain rises — the play proceeds. 
 The house echoes with the boisterous laugh 
 of the lewd and vicious. But why do those 
 decorated heads hang down ? Why do those 
 cheeks crimson with the blush of shame? 
 They are receiving the lessons of virtue and 
 chastity ! Their minds are becoming free 
 from all impure thoughts ! The restraints of 
 modesty are becoming strengthened! They 
 are enjoying an innocent amusement ! 
 
 But why dwell upon the picture ? It is one 
 of almost nightly occurrence, and the most 
 zealous advocates of the stage are familiar 
 with it. Yet they will contend that the 
 theatre is a school of virtue! They will 
 take their daughters and sisters to the the- 
 atre, and in their own presence, permit men 
 and women to say to them publicly from the 
 stage, what it would be, perhaps, death to 
 utter to them at their fireside. This they 
 will not only permit, but applaud and defend. 
 
 Not only are the exhibitions of the stage
 
 THE THEATRE. 203 
 
 often repugnant to delicacy and modesty, 
 but also what is frequently seen and heard 
 among the baser portion of the audience, is 
 equally so. An English clergyman, who 
 was so zealous an advocate of the stage, as 
 to desecrate the pulpit to its defence, pub- 
 lished, some thirty years ago, several dis- 
 courses on the subject, in one of which he 
 makes himself a witness to the fact here 
 stated. His testimony goes to show the 
 demoralizing influence of much of the com- 
 pany usually found in the theatre. "I was 
 myself," says he, "at the Hay-Market the- 
 atre, with my wife and daughter. There 
 was no listening to the play, and as to the 
 conversation of our delectable company, it 
 was so profligate, so loud, so knowing, and 
 so beastly, that out of delicacy to all the 
 modest ears it assailed, I would have given 
 the world to have been any where else. This 
 I hinted to my wife, when one of the rakes, 
 who was perhaps a haberdasher, and came in 
 with an order, thought proper to take offence, 
 and cried out to me, in a manner insufferably 
 insolent, ' Sir, I'll tell you what it is, if you 
 will brins modest women into the flesh-mar-
 
 204 THE THEATRE. 
 
 ket, you must take the consequence.' My 
 answer was, ' I thank you, Sir, I will do so,' 
 and we quitted the house." 
 
 One reason why men are not more fre- 
 quently convinced of the truth in a contro- 
 versy, is that they do not always advance 
 the true reason of their opinion, but keep it 
 locked up in their own bosoms, either through 
 shame, or because they fear that it can not 
 live through the ordeal of a candid examina- 
 tion. Other reasons are therefore advanced, 
 which have more of plausibility, and although 
 these may be shown to be insufficient, yet 
 conviction does not follow, because the opi- 
 nion defended does not in fact rest upon 
 them. 
 
 We believe that this is very much the case 
 in regard to the controversy relative to the 
 moral tendency of the theatre. The true 
 reason why some, perhaps all, advocate the 
 theatre is, the pleasure it affords them. But 
 unable to defend it upon this ground alone, 
 they find it necessary to resort to other argu- 
 ments, and to advance other reasons why 
 such exhibitions should be continued and 
 patronized. Hence, there is always a la-
 
 THE THEATRE. 205 
 
 boured effort to make it appear that the the- 
 atre is favourable to virtue. Thus instead of 
 advocating the propriety of mere personal 
 gratification, they would appear to advocate 
 the cause of virtue and good morals. 
 
 If, indeed, the theatre be a school of virtue, 
 it is the only one which enjoys unbounded 
 popularity with that very class which most 
 needs reformation. The pulpit is confessed 
 by all to be the source of instruction in good 
 morals; but those who most need its instruc- 
 tions are seldom seen within the walls of the 
 sanctuary. 
 
 We would ask the advocate of the stage 
 to point us to one example of reformation, 
 effected through the influence of the theatre. 
 Whom has it benefited? Whom has it pu- 
 rified ? 
 
 Do you ask whom has it injured? Whom 
 has it ruined? If the secrets of all hearts 
 were revealed, and the hidden causes of 
 wretchedness and crime laid open to view, 
 thousands would appear as witnesses against 
 the theatre. The alms-house, the prison, and 
 the chambers of disease and death, could un- 
 fold a tale whose thrilling import would cause 
 18
 
 '206 THE THEATRE. 
 
 the ears to tingle, and the heart to bleed 
 with sympathetic pity. 
 
 The injurious effects of the theatre upon 
 the mass of a community, are well known to 
 all discerning men. It is a subject of obser- 
 vation as well as of history. It is impossible, 
 on any other principle, to account for the 
 uniform opposition of the wise and good of 
 all ages, to the theatre. Perhaps one of the 
 most remarkable testimonies to the immoral 
 tendency of the stage, is to be found among 
 the politic measures of Julian, the apostate, 
 to counteract the spread of the Christian re- 
 ligion. Julian was not ignorant of the happy 
 influence of the Christian religion upon the ha- 
 bits and manners of its real subjects, nor was 
 he blind to their exemplary lives and correct 
 deportment. He was aware of the effect which 
 such a practical argument in favour of Chris- 
 tianity, would have upon the minds of the 
 people. And to counteract its influence, he 
 adopted such measures as would tend to de- 
 stroy the force of this argument, by making 
 his pagan subjects as devout and moral as 
 the Christians. He encouraged virtue, pro- 
 hibited immorality and vice, and interdicted
 
 THE THEATRE. 207 
 
 all idle books and wanton plays. He de- 
 clared that in no case should the priests fre- 
 quent the theatres, nor should they even be 
 seen in the company of a charioteer, player, 
 or dancer.* If the theatre did not tend to 
 corrupt the priests, why should they be for- 
 bidden to attend it? And if it had this ten- 
 dency, how much greater would naturally be 
 its injurious influence upon the common peo- 
 ple? And we may ask, why has a common 
 consent sanctioned the impropriety of cler- 
 gymen attending the theatre? If it be re- 
 garded merely as innocent recreation, why 
 should they be debarred from its enjoyment? 
 We are aware that superstition often clothes 
 the ministerial office with a fictitious solem- 
 nity, which is regarded as incompatible with 
 every thing like gaiety, cheerfulness, and 
 amusement; but the common sentiment in 
 regard to the impropriety of clergymen at- 
 tending the theatre, is not founded in super- 
 stition, for it is entertained by the intelligent 
 and well informed, as well as by the ignorant 
 and vulgar. It extends, moreover, to profes- 
 sors of religion, and to a great degree, con- 
 
 * Milner's Church History, Vol. 1. p. 304.
 
 208 THE THEATRE. 
 
 demns the practice in them as improper and 
 inconsistent. 
 
 If the theatre be a school of virtue, or even 
 an innocent amusement, whence arises this 
 common sentiment? Some may profess to dis- 
 sent from this general opinion, but they must 
 be conscious of a diminution of regard for the 
 piety and character of a clergyman whom 
 they should meet in a theatre. Their sense 
 of propriety would forbid them to regard him 
 any longer as a consistent and devout man. 
 Often the very persons who profess to see no 
 impropriety in it, are the first to cast it up as 
 an evidence of hypocrisy and irreligion. The 
 same is true, to a very great extent, in regard 
 to professors of religion. We allude to this 
 common feeling or sentiment, as an argument 
 against the theatre. It is a testimony borne 
 by those who advocate and frequent the the- 
 atre, and one, the force of which must be felt 
 by all. 
 
 It were to be desired that a like sentiment 
 existed in regard to the female sex as such. 
 It seems to be a reflection on their characters 
 for virtue and propriety, to suppose that they 
 may witness with impunity, what would be
 
 THE THEATRE. 209 
 
 disgraceful in a clergyman to witness. Cer- 
 tainly that which chiefly renders the theatre 
 an unfit place for clergymen and Christians, 
 does also render it unsuitable for females. 
 We sincerely think that they should have 
 more regard for their sex, and for that cha- 
 racter for modesty and purity, which is above 
 all price, ever to countenance the exhibitions 
 of the stage. 
 
 From a piece entitled a "Defence of the 
 Stage," we make the following extract, rela- 
 ting to this subject, as it contains important 
 concessions. 
 
 " Quick feelings and lovely dispositions are 
 the most open to the evil insinuations of any 
 wrong bias from the stage ; but a girl, (for I 
 particularly think of that sex on whom an 
 intemperate fancy commits most ravages,) 
 whose passions are not curbed and strength- 
 ened by reason, will most probably err from 
 misguided sentiment, even though she never 
 witnessed a comedy which derides virtue, or 
 a tragedy which softens vice. Right princi- 
 ples will always yield to wrong impulses in a 
 character whose foundation has never been 
 built upon consistent morality; the danger 
 18*
 
 210 THE THEATRE. 
 
 does not lie in the contagion of the theatre, 
 but in the mind which has been previously 
 prepared to imbibe it; we are infected only 
 with that disease which is congenial to our 
 constitution." 
 
 Let us pause here, and examine the senti- 
 ment advanced in the above extract. It sup- 
 poses that the mind of the spectator must be 
 previously prepared to imbibe injury, before 
 it can receive any from the exhibitions of the 
 theatre. The theology of this sentiment is 
 as bad as its logic. We believe that sin has 
 already made, in every human heart, the very 
 preparation alluded to. It has so affected 
 our moral constitution as to make it conge- 
 nial to the infection of the theatre. Educa- 
 tion can not remove the depravity of the 
 heart. If we were as pure as the holy an- 
 gels, we might escape the injury to which, as 
 sinful beings, we are now exposed. To say 
 that the danger does not lie in the contagion 
 of the theatre, but in the preparation of mind 
 to imbibe it, is no better argument for the 
 theatre, than it would be for drunkenness, to 
 say that the contagion does not lie in the 
 liquor, but in the preparation of our physical
 
 THE THEATRE. 211 
 
 constitution to imbibe it. The heart is as 
 really prepared to receive injury from the ex- 
 hibitions of the theatre, as the brain and other 
 parts of our physical frame are to receive 
 injury from the use of ardent spirits. This 
 writer admits that the contagion of the the- 
 atre injures those whose hearts are prepared 
 to imbibe it. The Bible clearly teaches that 
 all human hearts are depraved, and thus pre- 
 pared to imbibe the contagion; and we leave 
 the reader to draw the conclusion. 
 
 The concessions to which we alluded are 
 contained in the following part of the extract : 
 
 " If love is to be caught from seeing it re- 
 presented, or felt because a woman has list- 
 ened to its description, the fire of imagination 
 must have quenched her delicacy. An admi- 
 ration of the drama is scarcely ever derived 
 from an enjoyment of its literary beauties; 
 young women dwell with pleasure, not upon 
 the performance, but upon the performers; 
 how such a fine passage was repeated, is not 
 remembered as elucidating the author's inten- 
 tion, but with reference to the favourite actor 
 or actress's pronunciation of it. When this 
 is the case, I clearly agree with the public
 
 212 THE THEATRE. 
 
 abridgers of gaiety, that the impression is 
 dangerous." " No pardon can be extorted for 
 those who attend to witness a piece, where 
 
 ' Intrigue is plot, obscenity is wit,' 
 
 nor is pardon asked. A female who feels 
 gratified, or does not express herself disgust- 
 ed at a licentious performance, has not within 
 her grasp one firm motive to break the force 
 of temptation. To be one of the audience at 
 Farquhar's ' Constant Couple,' must be dis- 
 tressing to genuine modesty." * 
 
 If then, it be true, as this defender of the 
 stage asserts, that "an admiration of the 
 drama is scarcely ever derived from an enjoy- 
 ment of its literary beauties," and that "young 
 women dwell with pleasure, not upon the per- 
 formance, but upon the performers;" it is 
 certainly a very cogent reason why they 
 should never be found within the walls of a 
 theatre. 
 
 "The importance of woman in society," 
 says an intelligent writer, "has been fell 
 and acknowledged; her influence is potent; 
 to her we are indebted for social comfort 
 
 * Mirror of Taste, Vol. 2. p, 49, 50.
 
 THE THEATRE. 213 
 
 and domestic joy. Preserve her modesty, 
 let her heart confine her wishes and affections 
 within the circle of intellectual improvement, 
 domestic duties, and domestic pleasures, and 
 woman becomes what her Creator designed, 
 'a help meet for man;' the gentle friend of 
 his youth; the kind instructor, as well as the 
 mother of his children; his counsellor in dif- 
 ficulties; the soother of his sorrows in af- 
 fliction ; and I might almost add, the arbitress 
 of his fate. But transform her character; 
 let modesty, the guardian of every female 
 virtue, retire; let the averted eye, which 
 turns disgusted from the remotest approach 
 of evil, grow confident; let that delicacy of 
 sentiment, which feels a 'stain like a wound,' 
 give place to fashionable apathy; let the love 
 of home, and a taste for the sweetly in- 
 creasing employments of the domestic scene, 
 be changed for the pursuits of theatrical 
 entertainments, and the vagrant disposition 
 of a stylish belle, and the picture is reversed; 
 the female is degraded, and society has lost 
 its most powerful attraction. 
 
 " There is a charm in native modesty ; and 
 when this is wanting only in appearance, the
 
 214 THE THEATRE. 
 
 conversation even of a sensible woman is 
 rendered insipid and disgusting. The world 
 may call a woman virtuous, who with a 
 countenance of brass, can sit unmoved, when 
 Heaven is insulted by profaneness, and the 
 audience by oaths; when decency is tram- 
 pled on, and licentiousness indulged; and 
 this may be the current virtue of a depraved 
 age; but give me the innocence that shrinks 
 at the touch of vice. When the outworks of 
 modesty are demolished, the conquest of the 
 citadel is comparatively easy. There can be 
 no doubt that the theatre is one great source 
 whence have flowed many crimes of fashion- 
 able life." 
 
 Another writer on the subject of females 
 attending the theatre, reasons with great 
 point thus : 
 
 "What apology you may form in respect 
 to the indecencies of the stage, I cannot 
 easily imagine. To say you admit them for 
 their own sake, is to deny your respect for 
 virtue. To say you bear with them for the 
 sake of the better part of the performances, 
 is to make amusement of more account than 
 decency; it is to sacrifice your self-respect
 
 THE THEATRE. 215 
 
 to your love of pleasure. To say you suffer 
 them because your acquaintance do, is to 
 say, propriety is with you a thing of fashion. 
 You are drifters with the current, be it clear 
 or muddy. To say you tolerate them, like 
 good republicans, in deference to the loose 
 majority of the house, is to sanction their 
 profligacy, and consent to your own reproach. 
 You condescend to a compromise with the 
 vile, that you may share with them the 
 amusements of the place. In common fair- 
 ness, you can do no less. It were a hard 
 case, if privileges, which equally belong to 
 all, were made the monopoly of a few. 
 Verily, the theatre is a most peculiar insti- 
 tution! — without its parallel, except perhaps 
 in the ancient feasts of Cybele and Saturn. 
 Here virtue stoops to vice, and shame is 
 privileged; wealth and fashion forget their 
 aristocracy; and elegance and taste consort 
 with more than plebeian coarseness." 
 
 The drama is a powerful engine; and so 
 long as it is made dependent on the popular 
 will and taste, it must be a dangerous one to 
 the cause of virtue. The object of the actors 
 being to make money, they will conduct it
 
 216 THE THEATRE. 
 
 in that way which most effectually secures 
 this object. The theatre must afford amuse- 
 ment, otherwise it will not be patronized. 
 And in order to afford amusement, it must 
 be adapted to the taste of the people. That 
 taste has always hitherto demanded a drama 
 unfavourable to virtue; and it always will, 
 until it is transformed and purified by the 
 influence of religion, and then that influence, 
 by another bearing, will put an end to all 
 theatrical exhibitions. Herein consists the 
 improbability, if not impossibility, of ever 
 making the drama subservient to the cause 
 of good morals. The influence thus exerted 
 is both great and ruinous. 
 
 "The privilege of influencing an assembled 
 crowd," says Schlegel, " is exposed to a most 
 dangerous abuse. As we may inspire them 
 in the most disinterested manner, for the 
 noblest and best of purposes, we may also 
 ensnare them by the deceitful webs of so- 
 phistry, and dazzle them by the glare of false 
 magnanimity, of which the crimes may be 
 painted as virtues, and even as sacrifices. 
 Under the delightful dress of oratory and 
 poetry, the poison steals imperceptibly into
 
 THE THEATRE. 217 
 
 the ear and heart. Above all things, let the 
 comic poet take heed, as from the nature of 
 his subject, he has a tendency to split on this 
 rock, lest he afford an opportunity for the 
 lower and baser parts of human nature to 
 exhibit themselves without any disguise; for 
 if, by the appearance of a common partici- 
 pation in these ignoble propensities, the 
 shame is once overcome, which generally 
 confines them within the bounds of decency, 
 the depraved inclinations soon break out 
 with the most unbridled licentiousness. 
 
 "The powerful nature of such an engine for 
 either good or bad purposes, has justly, in all 
 times, drawn the attention of the legislature 
 to the drama. Many regulations have been 
 devised by different states, to render it sub- 
 servient to their views, and to guard against 
 abuses. The great difficulty is to combine 
 such a degree of freedom as is necessary for 
 the production of works of excellence, with 
 the precautions demanded by the customs 
 and institutions of every state. In Athens, 
 the theatre flourished under the protection of 
 religion, with the most unlimited freedom; 
 and the public morality preserved it for a 
 19
 
 218 THE THEATRE. 
 
 time from degeneracy. The comedies of 
 Aristophanes, which, with our views and 
 habits, appear so intolerably licentious, and 
 in which the senate and the people them- 
 selves are covered with ridicule, were the 
 seal of the Athenian freedom. Plato, again, 
 who lived in the very same Athens, and 
 witnessed or anticipated the decline of the 
 art, proposed the entire banishment of dra- 
 matic poets from his ideal republic." 
 
 The difficulty suggested by Schlegel, of 
 combining a degree of freedom necessary to 
 the excellence or popularity of a play, with a 
 due regard to the customs of the state, and 
 we may add, with the demands of modesty 
 and virtue, is one which has never yet been 
 removed. And the reason is this — that free- 
 dom, which is essential to the popularity of a 
 play, that freedom, which is necessary to 
 adapt it to the taste of the mass of those 
 who attend the theatre, must transcend the 
 bounds of modesty, either openly, or by in- 
 sinuations, and unchaste allusions. Because 
 such is the popular taste: and it is well 
 known that these lewd insinuations consti- 
 tute the seasoning which gives zest to the
 
 THE THEATRE. 219 
 
 play, and gratifies the taste of the vulgar and 
 depraved. Wherever this is wanting, the 
 play is insipid to a large portion of the 
 audience. It seems that the dramatists must 
 either continue to gratify this taste, or be- 
 come bankrupt in the attempt to purify the 
 stage. 
 
 The truth of these observations is substan- 
 tially admitted by Schlegel, when he says, 
 "From the nature of the dramatic art, the 
 poet must put much into the mouths of his 
 characters, of which he does not himself ap- 
 prove; and he conceives that his own sen- 
 timents should be appreciated, from the spirit 
 and connexion of the whole. It may again 
 happen, that a piece is perfectly inoffensive 
 with respect to single speeches, and that they 
 defy all censorship, while upon the whole, 
 it may be calculated to produce the most 
 dangerous effects. We have, in our times, 
 seen but too many plays favourably received 
 throughout Europe, overflowing with ebul- 
 litions of good-heartedness, and traits of 
 magnanimity, and in which, notwithstanding, 
 a mind of any penetration could not mistake 
 the concealed aim of the writer to sap the
 
 220 THE THEATRE. 
 
 foundations of moral principles, and the res- 
 pect for whatever ought to be held in vene- 
 ration by men; and by that means, to make 
 the dissolute effeminacy of his contempo- 
 raries, the panders to his success."* 
 
 The prevalence of a sound morality among 
 the people, is the strongest defence to a re- 
 publican government, against anarchy and 
 dissolution. The structure and genius of our 
 government demand, for its safety and perpe- 
 tuity, the controlling influence of sound prin- 
 ciples and healthy moral feelings. This is 
 the pledge of our security. And the import- 
 ance of it cannot be too frequently nor 
 to oearnestly pressed upon the attention of 
 the American people. The dissemination of 
 knowledge, and the maintenance of religious 
 institutions, are the props on which, as a na- 
 tion, we must and do rely for stability and 
 prosperity. And the earnestness with which 
 Washington, in his farewell address to the 
 citizens of these States, urged this considera- 
 tion, shows how deeply convinced he was of 
 its truth and importance. 
 
 Whatever, therefore, tends to the encou- 
 
 * Schlcgel's Dramatic Literature, pp. 20, 21.
 
 THE THEATRE. 221 
 
 ragement of vice and licentiousness, whatever 
 opposes itself to religion and pure morality, 
 does, to the extent of its influence, endanger 
 the liberties of the country. The causes of 
 a nation's downfall are often unobserved in 
 their origin. Their influence is silently ex- 
 erted, and constantly increasing. Their ulti- 
 mate tendency is not perceptible to the mass 
 of the people; and they are, consequently, 
 incredulous as to the existence and efficacy 
 of such causes. Unlike conspiracy, sedition, 
 or rebellion, they are commonly moral in 
 their nature, and for this reason, are not so 
 likely to arrest public attention, or excite 
 general alarm. Hence, the moral causes of 
 national destruction are less apt to be guard- 
 ed against, and on this account are most to 
 be dreaded. The fair fabric is undermined 
 before one note of alarm is sounded. Insti- 
 tutions which have awed the world, while 
 they commanded its admiration, have crum- 
 bled to dust at the touch of effeminacy, indo- 
 lence, luxury, licentiousness, and irreligion. 
 These are the silken cords which have bound 
 hand and foot, the once free and brave of 
 19*
 
 222 THE THEATRE. 
 
 other nations, that now live only on the page 
 of history. 
 
 Marcus Scaurus built a theatre at Rome, 
 which cost a million of pounds sterling, and 
 which contained thirty thousand spectators. 
 Pliny says of this celebrated edifice, that it 
 proved more fatal to the manners and the 
 simplicity of the Romans, than all the pro- 
 scriptions and the wars of Sylla had done to 
 the inhabitants of the city. 
 
 While we by no means charge either upon 
 the actors or the patrons of the drama, any 
 design whatever, to jeopard the civil privileges 
 we all enjoy in common with them, yet, if the 
 tendency of theatrical exhibitions be to pro- 
 mote licentiousness, effeminacy, and immo- 
 rality among the people, it becomes a serious 
 question of duty, what shall be done to coun- 
 teract their influence? In this country the 
 people are the seat of power. The people 
 make our laws, the people govern the nation. 
 And if this fountain of authority becomes 
 corrupt, where is our security against mis- 
 rule, anarchy, and ruin? Our government is 
 a great political brotherhood. Each man's 
 interest is bound up with that of all the rest,
 
 THE THEATRE. 223 
 
 while it is, at the same time, at the mercy of 
 all the rest. We rely for safety and protec- 
 tion upon mutual confidence and good will. 
 Hence, each man becomes the lawful guar- 
 dian of all the rest. It is both his interest 
 and his duty to watch, to counsel, and to ad- 
 monish those to whom he has entrusted his 
 liberties and property; and to receive from 
 them the same friendly offices of kindness 
 and fidelity. 
 
 How narrowly does the creditor watch the 
 habits and conduct of his debtor, in whose 
 credit and success in business is involved 
 his own fortune? Should he discover in him 
 habits of intemperance, of idleness, of disho- 
 nesty, or of extravagance, ought he not to be 
 alarmed and concerned? Is it not both his 
 duty and his privilege to counsel and admo- 
 nish him? And are not we, as a people, all 
 mutual debtors and creditors to one another, 
 in a different sense? Whatever, therefore, 
 affects the moral character of the people, 
 affects the rights, privileges and interests of 
 each individual. This is the theory of our 
 government; and who that believes in the 
 licentious and corrupting tendency of the
 
 224 THE THEATRE. 
 
 stage, can, or should be indifferent to it? We 
 say again, that it is a question of no ordinary 
 magnitude, what shall be done to counteract 
 its influence? The evil is a moral one, and 
 the remedy must be such too. The munici- 
 pal restrictions of the theatre are all vain and 
 nugatory ; and perhaps are designed to be so, 
 as far as they relate to the suppression of it. 
 Perhaps the tax imposed is designed, rather 
 to swell the treasury than to suppress an evil. 
 The rule by which this tax seems to be gra- 
 duated is this, that it shall not be so heavy 
 as to close the doors of the theatre, and yet 
 it shall be heavy enough to become a pecu- 
 niary object with those who impose it. 
 
 We are in principle opposed to this taxa- 
 tion of an evil. Such a tax supposes the 
 thing taxed to be an evil. The same is sup- 
 posed by the tax upon the retailers of spiritu- 
 ous liquors. They are both regarded profes- 
 sedly, as evils, and only to be tolerated by a 
 pecuniary compensation. 
 
 If the. theatre be an evil to the community, 
 it is a moral evil, and one which cannot be 
 compensated by dollars and cents. The 
 morals of a community are not a marketable
 
 THE THEATRE. 225 
 
 commodity, to be bought and sold at plea- 
 sure. The theatre is as much an evil after 
 the payment of the tax as before it. The 
 morals of the people suffer the same injury, 
 whether taxed or not. And the tax itself 
 looks very much like " the wages of unright- 
 eousness." A moral evil can not be graded 
 by a pecuniary scale. 
 
 What would be thought of selling for a 
 tax, the privilege of infecting a city with the 
 small-pox? If incendiaries were taxed, and 
 their vocation thus legalized, there would be 
 far more consistency, because the tax might 
 be so graduated as to cover the loss of pro- 
 perty. But what would be thought of taxing 
 a conspirator, or the mover of a sedition, and 
 thus legalizing their calling? Can money com- 
 pensate for the loss of life, or the loss of our 
 liberties? And yet it is implied in the taxa- 
 tion of actors, and the retailers of ardent spi- 
 rits, that the loss of the virtue and morality 
 of a community may be thus compensated. 
 
 The power to restrict an evil, implies the 
 power of prohibiting it altogether, for restric- 
 tion is a limited prohibition. If the theatre 
 be an evil, and if the civil authorities feel
 
 226 THE THEATRE. 
 
 bound to legislate on the subject, let them 
 prohibit it, either directly by a law to that 
 effect, or indirectly by imposing a tax so 
 heavy, as virtually to suppress it. The 
 former method, however, is preferable, as it 
 is more candid and consistent. 
 
 If, on the other hand, the theatre be a 
 school of virtue, or even an innocent recrea- 
 tion, why tax it at all? Why not tax mu- 
 seums, public halls, or institutes for scientific 
 lectures? Why has the theatre been selected 
 out of all the public amusements, as one 
 necessary to be restricted?* It must be 
 because, in the candid judgment of most men, 
 it is an evil. And we regard every restric- 
 tion of the theatre as evidence against it. 
 
 If the legislatures of the different states 
 should notice the theatre at all, it should not 
 be by taxation, but agreeably to the recom- 
 mendation of Congress passed soon after the 
 Declaration of Independence; let them sup- 
 press and prohibit it entirely. 
 
 If the legislatures should do nothing, as we 
 presume they will not, then let every friend 
 
 * The circus is regarded as only another species of the same 
 amusement.
 
 THE THEATRE. 227 
 
 to virtue, every friend to his country, resolve, 
 not to patronize the theatre. 
 
 The Congress of these United States, in its 
 virgin purity, solemnly and earnestly recom- 
 mended to the several states, as we have 
 before noticed, " to take the most effectual 
 measures for the suppressing of theatrical 
 entertainments, horse-racing, gaming, and 
 such other diversions as are productive of 
 idleness, dissipation, and a general depravity 
 of principles and manners."' 
 
 Here we find, that in the judgment of this 
 nation, expressed at a time when her represen- 
 tatives may be justly supposed to have been 
 actuated by the purest regard for her welfare, 
 theatrical entertainments are to be considered 
 in the same light as horse-racing and gaming, 
 and as productive of idleness, dissipation, and 
 depravity. Who were the men that com- 
 posed that Congress, and that voted the above 
 resolution ? They are men whom we teach our 
 children to venerate for wisdom, patriotism, 
 and for every virtue that can adorn a citizen. 
 They were men who had fought for our 
 liberties, and who knew how to value and 
 preserve them. They were men willing to
 
 228 THE THEATRE. 
 
 make the sacrifice of personal gratification, 
 for the sake of promoting the public good. 
 They were wise men, who foresaw the ulti- 
 mate effects of theatrical exhibitions upon 
 the destiny of this country. They lifted their 
 warning voice. It remains for us to decide 
 whether we will heed it, or perish by our 
 own folly. The liberties of both Greece and 
 Rome were doubtless sacrificed at the shrine 
 of the drama. 
 
 The public morality kept the licentiousness 
 of the stage in check as long as it could, but 
 that morality was ruined by its influence, and 
 the barrier being removed, effeminacy and 
 corruption overspread the land. It was in 
 the view of this, that Plato banished all 
 dramatists from his ideal republic. 
 
 It is greatly to be regretted that some 
 estimable citizens, whose friendship to virtue, 
 morality, and good order, cannot be ques- 
 tioned, should lend their sanction to an enter- 
 tainment so licentious in its tendency. The 
 influence of example is immense, especially 
 upon the minds of the young. When the 
 moral and virtuous in a community, are seen 
 with their families in the theatre, it em-
 
 THE THEATRE. 229 
 
 boldens others, who may have had some 
 misgivings of conscience, as they entered its 
 doors. To what extent the influence of such 
 example is exerted, cannot be ascertained, 
 but the responsibility of exerting it is by no 
 means enviable. 
 
 That man who takes his children to the 
 theatre, or even goes without them, and thus 
 sets them the example, ought not to be sur- 
 prised if they should ultimately disgrace his 
 name, and bring down his grey hairs with 
 sorrow to the grave. 
 
 It is no palliation for a patron of the stage 
 to say, that in other respects his conduct is 
 unexceptionable; this is rather an aggra- 
 vation, as his influence is greater, and the 
 force of his example is stronger on that ac- 
 count. How many young men have been 
 ruined by such examples, eternity alone can 
 reveal. 
 
 Let every man of standing and influence 
 in society, ponder this matter. Let him 
 count the cost, both to himself and others, 
 before he ventures upon the responsibility of 
 setting an example which may ultimately 
 20
 
 230 THE THEATRE. 
 
 involve in ruins the most promising of our 
 youth. 
 
 We would ask such, whether they think 
 more highly of a young man, because he is 
 a visiter of the theatre? Is such a practice re- 
 garded by them as a recommendation? Why 
 then encourage our youth by your example, 
 in a practice which, while it detracts from 
 their standing and respectability, at the same 
 time exposes them to numerous and power- 
 ful temptations? It is in vain to charge the 
 evil of attending the theatre upon what may 
 be called an excess. There is no rule by which 
 to determine what is, and what is not excess. 
 Different minds will adopt different standards 
 on this subject. If you sanction and coun- 
 tenance one degree of indulgence, you can- 
 not prescribe limits to the youthful passion. 
 
 For every degree of indulgence, it will 
 plead your example, and derive from it im- 
 punity and license. The conscience will, 
 thereby, be measurably silenced, and the 
 indulgence thought to be justified. 
 
 Who, among the respectable and influential 
 in society, will take the noble stand, and set
 
 THE THEATRE. 231 
 
 the magnanimous example of sacrificing mere 
 personal gratification for the public good, by- 
 abstaining altogether from theatrical enter- 
 tainments? Who will throw himself into the 
 breach, and strive to stay the moral pes- 
 tilence, which threatens to destroy the fairest 
 portion of our national heritage? 
 
 We call the licentious influence of the 
 stage, a moral pestilence, because it extends 
 to all ranks in society, and to all the relations 
 of social and domestic life; producing evils, 
 numerous, great, and lasting. 
 
 As it regards those who profess to be 
 governed by the precepts and spirit of the 
 Gospel, there can be but one opinion among 
 all truly devout Christians, in relation to their 
 duty in this matter. Both the world and the 
 church unite in the sentiment, that it is incon- 
 sistent and improper for Christians to attend 
 the theatre. The world may not always be 
 willing to own it, but it is nevertheless true, 
 that they cherish a secret contempt for the 
 religion of a play-going professor. And they 
 not unfrequently refer to such as examples of 
 hypocrisy. Men of the world very generally 
 know what to expect of Christians. And
 
 232 THE THEATRE. 
 
 their defects and aberrations from the path 
 of rectitude, are rigidly observed. Let the 
 reader take an example: let him imagine that 
 the most pious and devout Christian of whom 
 he has any knowledge, should begin to visit 
 the theatre, and take delight in its entertain- 
 ments; what would be thought of him? 
 Would he not be regarded as having lost 
 either his senses or his religion, or perhaps 
 both? The Christian church has always 
 borne its testimony against the stage. Even 
 Gibbon, bears his testimony to the "pious 
 horror," as he calls it, with which the theatre 
 was regarded by the primitive Christians. 
 And if the theatre be, what we have endea- 
 voured to show it always has been, how 
 could it be otherwise than offensive to the 
 pious Christian? The tendency of the stage 
 is to counteract and defeat the very ends 
 which Christianity aims to accomplish. They 
 are antagonist influences, and utterly irre- 
 concilable. He that is a friend to the one 
 must be an enemy to the other. The one 
 aims to gratify the carnal heart, the other to 
 mortify it. The one tends to cherish the 
 evil passions of our nature, the other to sub-
 
 THE THEATRE. 233 
 
 due and eradicate them. What communion, 
 then, has the one with the other ? 
 
 Even if these sentiments should be regarded 
 by any one, as indicative of a weak con- 
 science, yet, seeing that so many of his 
 brethren entertain them, the Christian is 
 bound by his profession to regard such a 
 conscience, and act agreeably to apostolical 
 example and precept. "But when ye sin so 
 against the brethren, and wound their weak 
 conscience, ye sin against Christ. Where- 
 fore, if meat make my brother to offend, I 
 will eat no flesh while the world standeth, 
 lest I make my brother to offend."* This is 
 the true principle on which that professor of 
 religion should act in reference to this matter, 
 who may regard the theatre as an innocent 
 recreation. If he be unwilling to sacrifice 
 personal gratification to the observance of 
 this principle of Christian ethics, he has 
 great reason to doubt the genuineness of his 
 religion. To violate it, is not only a sin 
 against his brethren, but it is expressly de- 
 clared to be a "sin against Christ." 
 
 The question is not unfrequently asked, 
 
 ► 1 Cor. viii. 12, 13. 
 
 20*
 
 234 THE THEATRE. 
 
 wherein consists the danger of attending 
 theatres and balls? The answer we propose 
 to give may, to some ears, sound strangely, 
 but we believe it to be a sound one. We 
 would reply, that you have not sufficient grace 
 to attend these places of amusement, without 
 serious injury. Your danger consists in a 
 want of sufficient holiness of heart to with- 
 stand the temptations which there assail the 
 passions. 
 
 A perfectly pure and holy being, might, if 
 duty called him to it, attend such places 
 without injury. But we apprehend no Chris- 
 tian on earth can do it, and not suffer: much 
 less, an unconverted man. 
 
 A professor of religion, in order to justify 
 his attending the theatre, may argue against 
 the probability of receiving personal injury. 
 But this is presumption. It is a sinful re- 
 liance upon human strength; and God may 
 be thus tempted to leave you to yourself, 
 that, by your fall, you may learn your weak- 
 ness and your guilt. Such presumption 
 grieves the Spirit of God, and may open upon 
 the soul the flood-gates of temptation, till it 
 is overwhelmed with misery, and ready to
 
 THE THEATRE. 235 
 
 despair. With what face or heart can he 
 pray, "lead us not into temptation," who 
 voluntarily exposes himself to the multiform 
 and powerful temptations of the theatre?* 
 The Christian meets with temptations enough, 
 in the the ordinary discharge of his duties, 
 without straying into forbidden paths to en- 
 counter them. "Watch and pray, lest ye 
 enter into temptation." 
 
 As it relates to the truly devout and pious, 
 it is a great mistake to suppose that they 
 abstain from theatrical entertainments merely 
 for the sake of consistency, and through fear 
 of church censure. Neither is it to such, a 
 self-denial. The relish for such entertain- 
 ments is destroyed. It is supplanted by a 
 taste for holiness and heavenly communion. 
 For such communion the wicked have no 
 taste. Herein lies the difference between the 
 two characters. It is no self-denial to the 
 wicked to abstain from secret and social 
 prayer. Neither is it a self-denial to the 
 
 * "He that is not satisfied," says Bishop Wilson, "that plays 
 are an unlawful diversion, let him, if he dare, offer up this prayer 
 to God before he goes: ' Lord, lead me not into temptation, and 
 bless me in what I am now to be employed.' "
 
 236 THE THEATRE. 
 
 pious Christian to avoid the haunts of pro- 
 fligacy and vice. The Spirit of God has 
 wrought a change in the disposition and 
 heart of the latter. For " if any man be in 
 Christ, he is a new creature: old things are 
 passed away; behold, all things are become 
 new."* 
 
 In conclusion, we would call the attention 
 of the reader to the tendency and influence 
 of those dramatic associations of young men, 
 commonly called Thespian Clubs. Can there 
 be a doubt in any mind that these associa- 
 tions be^et and cherish a taste for theatrical 
 entertainments? Not only is this true in re- 
 gard to the members themselves, but also in 
 regard to those who witness their exhibitions. 
 We could name instances where these clubs 
 have directly led to the establishment of the- 
 atres in places, where otherwise they would 
 not have been sustained for a long time to 
 come, if ever. 
 
 If a theatre be injurious to the morals of a 
 community, whatever leads to, and encour- 
 ages it, becomes particeps criminis. Young 
 
 * 2 Corinthians, v. 17.
 
 THE THEATRE. 237 
 
 men of respectability, intelligence, and tal- 
 ents, may, by forming such associations, 
 unwittingly become the foes to the public 
 weal. We suggest, therefore, whether they 
 should not be discouraged, as ultimately 
 leading to evil. 
 
 Such is poor human nature in its lapsed 
 state, that what, under other circumstances, 
 might be a rational and innocent amusement, 
 is now fraught with serious detriment to all 
 parties concerned. Let the lovers of good 
 order, of social virtue, and of domestic peace, 
 weigh these considerations, and act agreea- 
 bly to the dictates of a wise discretion, and 
 of a clear conscience. 
 
 What has now been said of Thespian 
 Clubs will apply with but little abatement, if 
 any, to the practice of converting school-boys 
 and collegians into temporary actors, and 
 requiring them to perform plays at their 
 public examinations. The tendency of this 
 practice has, w r e are persuaded, been over- 
 looked by the wise and the good who have 
 sanctioned it. This practice existed even 
 among the rigid Puritans. We find that the
 
 238 THE THEATRE. 
 
 Rev. Samuel Shaw, who was silenced by the 
 act of uniformity, was chosen principal of the 
 free school in Ashby de la Zouch. His bio- 
 grapher states, that he endeavoured to make 
 the youth, that were under his care, in love 
 with piety, to principle them in religion be- 
 times, by his good advice. Yet he fell into 
 the error of which we are now speaking. It 
 appears that he wrote two Comedies; one 
 entitled " Words made visible, or Grammar 
 and Rhetoric;" the other, "The different 
 humours of Men." These two pieces, says 
 his biographer, were acted by his own scho- 
 lars for their diversion, and for the entertain- 
 ment of the town and neighbourhood at 
 Christmas-time. We admit, therefore, that 
 good men have sanctioned the practice; but 
 we think that the authority in favour of it, 
 is not greater than the argument against it. 
 Let those who have the charge of youth, 
 ponder well this subject, and observe its ten- 
 dency to create and foster a taste for the 
 amusements of the stage. 
 
 We now submit this whole subject, with 
 its facts and arguments, to the judgment of a
 
 THE THEATRE. 239 
 
 candid public. Let us all so decide, and so 
 act in this matter, that a death-bed review 
 of our course, may bring with it no self- 
 reproach, no agonizing fears of a future 
 retribution. 
 
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