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A DEFENCE 
 
 " OF 
 
 THE DRAMA, 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 MANSEL'S FREE THOUGHTS, 
 
 EXTRACTS 
 
 From the most Celebrated Writers, 
 
 AND 
 
 A DISCOURSE 
 
 on the 
 
 OF FLATS, 
 
 BY THE CELEBRATED 
 
 FATHER CAFFARO, 
 
 Divinity Professor at Paris. 
 
 *« Nothing can more strongly prove the importance of Dramatic amuse- 
 ments, than the opposite opinions entertained on the subject. — Opinions that 
 have uniformly run like parallel lines for centuries, unbending and with- 
 out the smallest inclination to- converge ; From a tejiecting mind this vieto 
 of it alone must claim the most serious investigation." 
 
 NEW-YORK. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY GEORGE CHAMPLEY, 
 
 196 BROADWAY. 
 
 1826, 
 
\rt 
 
 
 
 SOUTHERN DISTRICT OF NEW-YORK, $$. 
 
 Be it remembered, that on the 30th day < 
 November, A. D. 1825, in the 50th year of th 
 
 1C| Independence of the United States of Amend 
 ■ 9a George Champley of the said district hath deposi 
 ed in this office the title of a book, the right where 
 of he claims as Proprietor, in the words following, to wit:- 
 "A Defence of the Drama, containing Mansel's Frc 
 Thoughts, Extracts from the most Celebrated Writers, an 
 a Discourse on the lawfulness and unlawfulness of plays, h 
 the celebrated Father CafTaro, Divinity Professor s 
 Paris. " Nothing can more strongly prove the importanc 
 of Dramatic amusements, than the opposite opimor 
 entertained on the subject.— Opinions that have uniforml 
 run like parallel lines for centuries, unbending and withoi 
 the smallest inclination to converge ; From a reflecting mil 
 this view of it alone must claim the most serious investigi 
 tion." 
 
 In conformity to the act of the Congress of the Unite 
 States, entitled, " an act for the encouragement of learninj 
 by securing the copies of maps, charts and books, to tl 
 authors and proprietors of such copies, during the time then 
 in mentioned." And also to an act, entitled, " an act suppl 
 mentary to an act, entitled, an act for the encouragement 
 learning, by securing the copies of maps, charts and bool 
 to the authors and proprietors of such copies, during the tirm 
 therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to tl 
 arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical at 
 
 other prints." 
 
 r JAMES DILL, 
 
 Clerk of the Southern District of New- York 
 
TO THE MANAGERS, 
 PROFESSORS, 
 SUPPORTERS, 
 
 ajsi> friejvjds, 
 
 OF THE 
 
 mmAWAi 
 
 THIS COLLECTION IS 
 
 RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED: 
 By an unknown supporter and friend to the Stage. 
 
 NEW- YORK, February, 1826, 
 
 M211441 ' 
 
ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 THE appearance of this collection at the 
 present time, arose from the late pitiful at- 
 tempts to subvert the drama, under the hy- 
 pocritical mask of morality, and hostility to 
 an individual. 
 
 The following pages are chiefly Extracts 
 from a number of works, which the compi- 
 ler has had the pleasure to peruse. 
 
 Except some trifling local omissions, 
 Mansei's "Free Thoughts" are included, 
 and numerous quotations from the most ce- 
 lebrated christian and moral writers, which 
 will add weight in favor of the utility of 
 the stage. It was the object of Mr. Mansel 
 to draw the attention of the Stage oppo- 
 nents to the point at once; whether drama- 
 B 
 
tic amusements are diametrically opposite 
 to Religion and morality, or are they to be 
 considered as handmaids in the cause of 
 gradually reforming the vicious part of 
 mankind. 
 
 In Mr. Mansel's address to the public on the publi- 
 cation of his "Free Thoughts," he expresses his obli- 
 gations to Mr. Mathews, for his kindness in furnish- 
 ing him with corrections and additions to certain parts 
 in the body of the work. As to the latter gentleman, 
 on his late visit to our shores, his amiable and unas- 
 suming deportment, gained the esteem of moat classes 
 of the community that had the pleasure of his acquain- 
 tance ; and in his "Trip to America," has evinced the 
 feelings of a man, by tolerating those, who, had they 
 the power, would not have tolerated him. 
 
TO STAGE PROFESSORS. 
 
 I will first address the Stage Professors 
 themselves, upon their candour, good sense 
 and good nature. I throw myself for par- 
 don, trusting they will forgive my temerity 
 in presuming to instruct the instructors. I 
 would entreat you, as you value the honor 
 and dignity of the stage, to combine serious- 
 ly in removing the very few obstructions and 
 impediments remaining, to make it what it 
 ought to be — the vehicle of pleasure and 
 profit. In many of the old dramas, there are 
 expressions, sentences and scenes, which 
 chastity itself did not shrink from, at the 
 period when they were written. " Those 
 who intend no wrong, fear none." Let us 
 hope that it is not the appearance of delica- 
 cy, but the refinement of it, which makes 
 the present generation, shrink from that 
 which gave their ancestors delight. 
 
Your professional studies have compel- 
 led you to become intimately acquainted 
 with these old comedies ; hence you have 
 become gradually familiar with phrases 
 and equivocal language, very offensive to 
 the ears of those, who, from want of leisure, 
 inclination, or opportunity, have not been 
 in the habit of perusing the humour of our 
 forefathers. Those passages should always 
 be omitted, and every expression repug- 
 nant to delicacy, carefully expunged. 
 
 Swearing is another impropriety, that 
 should be banished from the stage — these 
 senseless expletives, obnoxious to the ears 
 of a gentleman, and particularly brutal in 
 the presence of a female. 
 
 Avoid all such vulgar substitutes for wit 
 and humour; you do not want them ; your 
 stock of entertainment is inexhaustible, 
 and you are not driven to have recourse to 
 
such miserable subterfuges. Do not spare 
 the pruning knife on such occasions ; you 
 will soon sensibly feel your account in it. 
 
 Purify the old drama, do not fear weak- 
 ening it : the very rinsings will be strong 
 enough for this dull, polemical age. 
 
 The Dramatist, the Actor, and the 
 Painter, are all bound by the just rules of 
 their profession, to give a true picture of 
 nature; but they are not bound to give her 
 in her worst dress, or her most inelegant 
 attitude. To portray a beggar, it is not re- 
 quisite to retain all his filth. Therefore a 
 Bond-street lounger, a hearty farmer, or even 
 a sailor, can be very well represented with- 
 out the usual accompaniment of an oath. 
 
 But it is from the propriety of your pri- 
 vate conduct, after all, that the greatest re- 
 volution in your favour must be accom- 
 plished. — I am well aware that you are a"s 
 
untainted with vices, or as uncontaminated 
 with wilful error, as any of your neighbours, 
 be tbey whom they may : still there are 
 too many of you, inattentive and negligent 
 to the choice of society ; the lowest and 
 the most vicious, are too often your com- 
 panions; you know not the injury you do 
 yourselves, by becoming so easy of access. 
 Had you but the resolution to live a little 
 more to yourselves, instead of seeking, you 
 would be sought for. But this is by no 
 means a general charge; there are many 
 of you, who live the most retired and do- 
 mesticated lives, and, if it should ever oc- 
 cur, (which is seldom the case,) that the 
 public do not appreciate it, the individual 
 has, at least, the conscious pride of know- 
 ing that he has done his duty." 
 
 " These are the suggestions of a sincere 
 friend to the profession ; an ardent admirer 
 of the drama, and a real well wisher to all 
 its retainers." 
 
ON JUDGMENTS. 
 
 Chelate extensive destruction of Thea- 
 tres by fire in this country, is a very fertile 
 subject with those who presume to lay open 
 the inscrutible ways of providence. It is 
 true they followed each other with a rapidity 
 unparalleled in the annals of scenic repre- 
 sentation ; but, is there any thing in these 
 events, that common sense cannot compre- 
 hend. The hand of the incendiary has been 
 accused in some of these instances, and 
 probably not without a just cause. " We 
 cannot be guilty of a greater act of un- 
 charitableness, than to interpret the afflic- 
 tions which befall our neighbours as punish- 
 ments and j udgments : it aggravates the evil 
 to him who suffers, when he looks upon 
 himself as the particular object of divine 
 vengeance, and abates the compassion 
 of those towards him who regard him in 
 
g 
 
 so dreadful a light. This humour of turn- 
 ing every misfortune into a judgment, 
 proceeds from wrong notions of religion ; 
 which in its own nature produces goodwill 
 towards men, and puts the mildest con- 
 struction upon every accident that befalls 
 them. In this case, it is not religion that 
 sours a man's temper, but it is his temper 
 which sours his religion. 
 
 People of gloomy uncheerful imagina- 
 tions, or of envious malignant tempers, 
 whatever kind of life they are engaged in, 
 will discover their natural tincture of mind 
 in all their thoughts, words, and actions : 
 as the finest wines have often the taste of 
 the soil, so'even the most religious thoughts, 
 often draw something that is particular, 
 from the constitution of the mind in which 
 they arise. When folly or superstition 
 strike in with this natural depravity of tem- 
 per, it is not in the power even of religion 
 

 
 itself, to preserve the character of the per- 
 son who is possessed with it, from appear- 
 ing highly absurd and ridiculous. 
 
 If the stage opponents will still persist 
 in drawing conclusions by no means liberal, 
 will they please to ponder on the following 
 short catalogue of human misery. 
 
 The two Theatres in London were both 
 burnt down within a year of each other, 
 when they were completely unoccupied 
 by actors and spectators. Do these fires de- 
 mand the necessity of ranking them among 
 the chastisements of the Almighty? Is it not 
 a well known fact, that several Churches in 
 New- York and other places, have fallen 
 under the ravages of the same devouring 
 element. " In 1787, Bury Theatre fell down 
 and buried three hundred people under its 
 ruins — Five were killed. The floor of 
 a meeting house gave way at Leeds, in 
 
10 
 
 1796. and killed sixteen women, a man, 
 and a child. 
 
 We all remember the steeple of a church 
 in Liverpool falling in ; and the greatest num- 
 ber of the killed were children, who were 
 repeating their catechism. It is not a cen- 
 tury since the earthquake at Lisbon swal- 
 lowed up, in the short space of eight minutes, 
 whole streets, and destroyed fifty thousand 
 of its inhabitants. About the year 1785, 
 a number of people were assembled at Win- 
 ster, in England, to see a puppet-show, 
 when the upper part of the house (which 
 contained the exhibition) was blown oft by 
 the accidental explosion of gun powder, and 
 not a single person was injured. 
 
 St. Paul's cathedral has been burnt, not 
 less than three times, and once considera- 
 bly injured by lightning. 
 
11 
 
 Greenwich Hospital had its steeple and 
 one of its quadrangles burnt down, and it 
 was with difficulty, any part of the build- 
 ing could be preserved; and in 1813, the 
 church and steeple were struck by light- 
 ning and most materially damaged. 
 
 What conclusions will they presume to 
 draw from these few instances, where we 
 find Churches, Hospitals, and Theatres, 
 liable to the same awful visitations? Are we 
 to conclude that the congregation at Leeds 
 were more wicked than the audience at 
 Bury? That the fifty thousand, who pe- 
 rished at Lisbon, were all objects of divine 
 wrath and the spectators at the puppet show 
 all so meritoriously employed that they 
 escaped punishment ? Absurd ! — We find 
 ourselves surrounded by a continual exhi- 
 bition of phenomena, inexplicable in them- 
 selves and perplexing to the wisest. 
 
12 
 
 To draw conclusions without knowing 
 the premises, betrays ignorance — to make 
 uncharitable constructions upon the secret 
 movements of the Deity, evinces any thing 
 but the mild principles of Christianity. Let 
 us rather reverentially repeat the words of 
 the great bard, which he has piously put 
 into the mouth of one of his characters — 
 "The will of God be done in this and all 
 things." 
 
 The unfortunate affair at Richmond is passed over, 
 
 as it is not my wish to inflict an unnecessary pang", by 
 
 remarks on that melancholy event. 
 
 D. F. 
 
ON AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 "Pleasure and recreation of one kind or 
 other, are absolutely necessary to relieve 
 our minds and bodies from too constant at- 
 tention and labour. When, therefore, pub- 
 lic diversions are tolerated, it behoves per- 
 sons of distinction, with their power and 
 example, to preside over them in such a 
 manner, as to check any thing that tends to 
 the corruption of manners, or which is too 
 mean and trivial for the entertainment of 
 reasonable creatures." Luther, upon most 
 subjects, would be attended to with respect 
 if not with conviction : one wou'.d imagine 
 his view of the stage, alone would induce 
 the serious part of the community to attend 
 to the direction of the stage, not to its des- 
 truction. — He says that in " Comedies, par- 
 ticularly in those of the Roman writers, the 
 duties of the various situations of life, are 
 
14 
 
 held out to view, and as it were reflected 
 from a mirror. The office of parents and 
 the proper conduct of children, are faithful- 
 ly delineated ; and, what to young men may 
 be advantageous, the views and characters 
 of profligate women, are exhibited in their 
 true colours. Excellent lessons are given 
 to them, how they should conduct them- 
 selves towards virtuous women in court- 
 ship. Strong exhortations to matrimony are 
 brought forward, without which state no 
 government can subsist. Celibacy is the 
 plague of any nation." 
 
 What does the amiable Watts say on 
 this long contested theme ? "It is granted 
 that a dramatic representation of the affairs 
 of human life, is by no means sinful in it- 
 self. I am inclined to think, that valuable 
 compositions might be made of this kind, 
 such as might entertain an audience with 
 innocent delight, and even with real profit 
 
15 
 
 Such have been written in French and have, 
 in times past, been acted with applause." 
 
 Is this authority to go for nothing ? 
 
 What does Addison say of the stage? 
 He complains of its licentiousness, but ob- 
 serves "Were our plays subject to proper 
 inspections and limitations, we might not 
 only pass away several of our vacant hours 
 in the highest entertainments, but should 
 always rise from them wiser and better than 
 when we sat down to them/' 
 
 Can the opponents of the drama produce 
 an individual in the long catalogue of moral 
 writers, that has laboured with greater assi- 
 duity to reform the manners of the vicious, 
 than " Hannah More." She has not only 
 wrote plays, but even dramatized the 
 "Holy Scriptures"! and had this a ten- 
 dency to alienate the regard and affections 
 
16 
 
 of her friends? No; it gained her the ac- 
 quaintance and friendship of the most dis- 
 tinguished characters of the British nation; 
 
 and even the highest dignitaries of the church 
 
 • 
 
 in this country, as well as in Europe, have 
 thought it an honour to be ranked amongst 
 her list of friends and ardent admirers of 
 her works. And are we to imagine for a mo- 
 ment, that she considered herself as acting 
 opposite to the principles of Christianity^ 
 or even weakening the foundations of mo-* 
 rality, by the composition of her dramatic 
 pieces. Absurd ! 
 
 Her writings proclaim her to be, not only 
 charitable towards the failings of her fel- 
 low-creatures, but likewise piously devout. 
 A few more such writers would do more 
 good to mankind in a few years, than an 
 army of unlettered canting demagogues, 
 in as many centuries. Should Holcroft's 
 drama of " Deaf and Dumb " ever be per- 
 
17 
 
 formed, and those who are the most oppos- 
 ed would lay prejudice aside, and witness 
 its performance, I will venture to predict 
 that it alone, if in the hands of skillful per- 
 formers, would make them converts to the 
 utility of the stage. 
 
 This play is a truely moral drama, and 
 purifies the affections by terror and pity. 
 That it is founded on fact, does not lessen 
 the interest, nor as it ends happily, embitter 
 the pleasure; the effect is greatest on the 
 stage, but it is not confined to it ; in the 
 reading, it has all the effect of the most 
 romantic novel." * 
 
 * Why is this beautiful drama not brought for- 
 ward ? some of our performers in it would certainly 
 be "at home." 
 
FREE THOUGHTS 
 
 METHODISTS, ACTORS, 
 
 THE INTX.UENCE OF 
 
 vara swiia 
 
AN 
 
 INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE 
 
 Addressed to Mrs , 
 
 Of Castle, 
 
 GLAMORGANSHIRE ; 
 
 Containing a succinct account of the Origin 
 of the stage, with a view of it at the period, 
 when it became an object of reprehension 
 to the Fathers of the Church. Also, a brief 
 examination of the different opinions deli- 
 vered on the subject of the Drama, by an- 
 cient Philosophers and the earlier Eccle- 
 siastics. 
 
To Mrs , 
 
 Castle y 
 
 GLAMORGANSHIRE. 
 
 Madam, 
 
 When reflection casts back a retros- 
 pective glance, through the intervening me- 
 dium of care, disappointments, misfor- 
 tune, contumely and regret, to the tranquil 
 period of my life, passed under the roof of 
 your pious, reverend, and much esteemed 
 father, it arises to my recollection like a 
 poetical dream, or fairy vision of the mind. 
 
24 
 
 The placid fleeting hours, dedicated to a 
 reciprocal exchange of thought, during 
 " that happy age, when nature wears no 
 mask," serve to mark succeeding years of 
 anxiety and pain with a most frightful 
 chilling contrast! Still, neither lapse of 
 time, effect of absense, pressure of the 
 world, difference of situations, — nothing 
 can banish the object from my memory, 
 that once constituted the source, from 
 whence those pure joys of innocence and 
 youth alone could emanate ! 
 
 To find you possessing rank, wealth, 
 splendour, talents, and accomplishments, 
 and still retaining your native innocence of 
 mind, cheerfulness of temper, and suavity 
 of manner, is a subject as much to the 
 honour of human nature, as it is consola- 
 tory to your many friends. 
 
 I have more than ever to lament the 
 
25 
 
 poverty of my genius, in not possessing taste 
 or powers to produce a composition, cal- 
 culated to display the high sense I enter- 
 tain of your worth and excellence, by an 
 open avowal of your name, which would 
 at once gratify the wish of my heart, and 
 excite an interest in my favour that would 
 adorn and support a much weaker cause 
 than the one I have the honour to advocate. 
 But, proudly advantageous as this disclo- 
 sure would be, I have neither the selfish- 
 ness, nor the indelicacy to implicate your 
 name, in a controversy, with opponents not 
 over precise in their selection of abusive 
 Epithets, nor over delicate in the mode of 
 conveying them. It is not your rank, 
 your genius, no nor your philanthropy, 
 would protect you from the virulence of 
 vulgarism, — ignorance, — -prejudice. — -and 
 bigotry, who, one — and all, — would, with 
 closed eyes, expanded ears, and open 
 
25 
 
 mouths, overwhelm you with froth, folly, 
 venom and impertinence! 
 
 Your knowledge and admiration of the 
 arts, they would term profane; your taste 
 in poetry and painting, heathen ; your skill 
 in music, useless ; your partiality to the 
 drama, impious ; and your modest christian 
 demeanour, faint-hearted, luke-warm zeal. 
 In vain, would all, who are blessed with 
 your acquaintance, urge your charities, 
 your exemplary conduct as a wife and a 
 mother, your assiduous regard to all the 
 relative duties of your station — in short, 
 that your numberless good qualities demand 
 the esteem, love, and admiration, of the 
 wise, the good, and the virtuous. All 
 these, with my opponents, pass as nothing ! 
 Dust in the balance ! — filthy works ! ! — 
 Your total want of that lively faith, burn- 
 ing in the fervid imaginations of the West- 
 leyan and Whitfieldian sects, amounts 
 
27 
 
 in this evangelical age, to such an enor- 
 mous offence, as to counterbalance every 
 other virtue, moral or divine, that can 
 adorn the human breast. — No, Madam, 
 your religious education, has been too well 
 grounded; your judgment too sound; and 
 your heart too pure, to participate in the 
 sensations of our modern mystic visiona- 
 ries! You can prostrate yourself before 
 your great Creator, with all the rational 
 veneration of a virtuous human being. 
 You can, with all the warmth of honest 
 gratitude, offer up your feeble thanks for 
 the many blessings He has bestowed upon 
 you. — You can, with a noble expansion of 
 feeling, implore the Divine favour and 
 mercy upon all your fellow-creatures. 
 But you would never presume to hurl 
 the Almighty vengeance against a poor, 
 imperfect, erring brother! No, Madam, you 
 are too well versed in the genuine princi- 
 
23 
 
 pies of Christianity, to become religiously 
 blasphemous ! Nor could you have the in- 
 sanity to transport yourself, with the fran- 
 tic idea of beholding the various attributes 
 of the triune God. We will leave these 
 anti-christian flights to the frequenters and 
 supporters of band-meetings, watch-nights, 
 and love-feasts. 
 
 But, highly as I appreciate your worth, 
 and anxious as I have ever been to express 
 my sense of it, there is still a selfish latent 
 motive, which has strongly urged me to 
 this covert address. — I am upon the point 
 of enduring the toil and pain attendant up- 
 on an unprofitable, irksome journey. Now, 
 though I purpose travelling with all possible 
 celerity, yet, in the course of my tour, I 
 shall have to encounter so many disagree- 
 ables, and have to wander through such a 
 labyrinth of absurdities, that it will require 
 every aid to support me in my progress. 
 
29 
 
 The most pleasing and essential assistance 
 I can possibly devise, is by mentally enjoy- 
 ing your society during my pursuit: " By 
 bearing your idea ever present in my 
 thoughts, virtue shall keep an advocate 
 within me.;" and as your cooler judgment 
 used frequently to check the petulance of 
 the boy, your ideal presence shall restrain 
 the impetuosity of The Man. This will 
 inspire me with confidence to accomplish 
 my task, conquer difficulties, and remove 
 impediments of every description. Thus 
 having fixed the plan to my own wish, let 
 us proceed ; I will however, first of all in- 
 form you, that in our rapid excursion, we 
 shall enjoy a transient glance of those cities 
 so celebrated by historians, philosophers, 
 orators, poets, and painters; cities of your 
 earliest acquaintance, and objects of your 
 more mature admiration, Athens and Rome. 
 
 We shall converse, for a short time, with 
 
30 
 
 several of your most intimate acquaintance ; 
 
 but they will not, as usual, command that 
 
 attention; respect and delight, which you 
 
 have ever considered as their just tribute. 
 
 i 
 
 Forbidding as this prospect is, I am sorry 
 to say, it is the most brilliant we shall enjoy 
 in this intended pilgrimage. — When we 
 quit classical ground we shall have to asso- 
 ciate with strange beings, some of whom 
 will provoke your laughter, others your 
 anger. Some will excite your disgust, 
 others merit your contempt, and all will 
 ultimately demand your pity. 
 
 Two centuries have nearly elapsed, since 
 the notorious Mr. Prynne paid the forfei- 
 ture of his ears as a just reward for his his- 
 trionical researches and personal inference. 
 For nearly two centuries have the opposers 
 of a theatre profited by Mr. Prynne's inde- 
 fatigable industry, without the credit of 
 
31 
 
 possessing his perseverance or the honour 
 of participating in his punishment. He 
 formed for their benefit a reservoir, sup- 
 plied with the filth of ages, and most amp- 
 ly have they drawn from it, to bespatter 
 and defile the stage and all its adherents. 
 Ccelum niare, fortiter et aliquid ad haribet. 
 For more than two centuries have my bro- 
 ther professors received insults and provo- 
 cations, with a silence to be admired, and a 
 forbearance under injuries to be envied. 
 Two centuries endurance of calumny, give 
 evident proofs of mental superiority on one 
 side, and of imbecile persecution on the 
 other. But " Sufferance is the badge of all 
 our tribe." The anti-stagers, upon the 
 authority of Mr. Prynne, have been con- 
 stantly hurling against the object of their 
 hatred, philippics and anathemas furnished 
 them by heathen philosophers and chris- 
 tian fathers. 
 
32 
 
 Arming themselves with the antiquated 
 opinions of those ancient literary heroes, 
 they have conceived their attacks fatal, and 
 their position impregnable. 
 
 But surely this enlightened age, and this 
 advanced period of the world, should 
 suggest to them the propriety of abandon- 
 ing their worm-eaten entrenchments, of 
 resigning their purloined weapons, disband- 
 ing their impotent auxiliaries, parting 
 with their ill-sorted mercenaries, and stand- 
 ing fairly and openly before the tribunal of 
 rational religion, moral reason, truth and 
 impartiality ! — To this tribunal I cite 
 them, and if they can prove to the satisfac- 
 tion of this august assemblage, that my pro- 
 fession is in opposition to the interests of 
 religion and reason, the condemnation, by 
 truth and impartiality, must follow. To 
 their sentence 1 shall not only respectfully 
 submit, but make the most ample atone- 
 
33 
 
 ment in my power, by a public confession of 
 my errors, renunciation of my pursuits, and 
 reformation of my life. To truth and 
 impartiality I appeal ; to them I call for a 
 fair and open hearing : and on them I rely 
 for protection from bigotted ignorance 
 and fanatacal zeal. I must here observe to 
 you, Madam, that if our opponents had one 
 particle of candour, or the most distant love 
 for justice, they would themselves abandon 
 the idea of disturbing, on the present occa- 
 sion, the repose of these right reverend 
 uuncient gentry in question. 
 
 They know in their hearts that they hate 
 and despise the very works they look up to 
 for support and protection.* The only de- 
 
 * It was said of some of the fathers in the christian 
 church, (who had been philosophers, the literati of 
 that day) that they came into Canaan laden with Egyp- 
 tian gold. They did so, and in a little time they per- 
 
 D 
 
34 
 
 ference ever shown by the Methodists to 
 the fathers of the church, the opinions of 
 councils, or the Heathen philosophers, is in 
 the solitary scattered sentences, denoun- 
 cing vengeance against the stage. To gra- 
 tify this prejudice, to feed this daring anti- 
 pathy to plays and players, to demolish 
 this fatal engine, every agent is welcomed ; 
 they seize with avidity on every author; 
 however absurd, foolish, or impious, Hea- 
 then or Christian, heretic or orthodox, all 
 are embraced and cherished, if they will 
 only bellow forth the invectives against the 
 stage, and labour for its destruction. When 
 
 suaded the simple hearted to prize it more than the 
 gold of the sanctuary. 
 
 They were indeed the first grand corrupters 
 
 OF THE GOSPEL OF CHRIST. 
 
 Coke and Moore's life of Wesley, second edition, 
 p. 531. 
 
35 
 
 engaged in this meritorious pursuit, rochets, 
 lawn sleeves, scarlet hats, triple mitres, and 
 all the sacerdotal paraphernalia is deprived 
 of its babylonish terrors. The fastidious, 
 puritan receives them as valuable allies, and 
 elevates them to the highest rank of learn- 
 ing piety, and excellence ! Now, Madam, 
 fully to convince you that I am neither 
 capricious nor arbitrary in rejecting the 
 interference of the ancients, Heathen, or 
 christain, we will proceed in our intended 
 excursion, and take a rapid survey of the 
 history of the stag>*, from its first inven- 
 tion down to the period, when the early fa- 
 thers of the church avowed themselves its 
 inveterate and determined opposers. We 
 will then take a separate investigation of the 
 different opinions delivered, and thus be 
 enabled todetermine and judge how far they 
 can be brought to assimilate with the con* 
 dernnations of the present stage, or how far 
 they can apply to the now existing drama* 
 
36 
 
 It is a generally "received opinion with 
 the learned, that the Ludi and Spertacula 
 of the Greeks and Romans, formed a great 
 part of the solemn and public worship of 
 their Gods, and were instituted on purpose 
 to commemorate some signal benefit, or 
 expiate some calamity of which those Gods 
 were the supposed authors or instruments. 
 These shows were usually preceded by a 
 solemn procession of the Gods to whom they 
 were dedicated, and the priests and sacnfi- 
 cers in their formalities, with the victim in 
 all its religious pomp; this was succeeded 
 by vows made, and sacrifices performed 
 upon the spot, whether it were theatre, 
 circus, or any other public building*. 
 
 *Nearly the whole of this short inquiry into the ori- 
 gin of the drama, &c is taken from "The ancient and 
 modern stages surveyed." An ingenious work pub- 
 lished in reply to Mr. Collier, dated 1699. 
 
37 
 
 After all these were performed or finish- 
 ed, the show was ordered to begin, which 
 was also a principal part of the religious 
 worship, and concluded the solemnity of 
 the day. In these shows, the amours of the 
 Gods were related and sung, with the ac- 
 companiments of music and dancing. — 
 The whole forming the most obscene, dis- 
 graceful spectacle possible to be conceived, 
 much less exhibited before any people ad- 
 vanced beyond the verge of barbarism. — 
 The lowest stews alone could furnish 
 prostitutes enough to be assistant charac- 
 ters at these festive debaucheries. The 
 full description of which would onlysully 
 my pages, offend decency, and repel the 
 eye of modesty. I mention the Ludi and 
 the Spectaculi first, because by the care- 
 less and inattentive, they are very frequent- 
 ly blended with the legitimate drama. More 
 than half of the invectives t^iven to the an- 
 cient schoolmen and the fathers originated 
 
38 
 
 in their invincible hatred to theseabomina- 
 ble shows.* — .\otthatI presume to claim 
 an origin of a superior kind, for the foun- 
 dation of dramatic representations. No ; 
 like the Spectaculi and the Ludi, it sprung 
 from the rtligious worship, of the Hea- 
 thens. It was invented in honour to Bac- 
 chus, and consisted of songs in his praise, 
 music and dancing, about a sacrificed goat, 
 intermixed with rustic raillery, suitable to 
 the genius and temper of the boors and vil- 
 lagers that were the performers. Tragedy 
 and comedy were not then considered sepa- 
 rate provinces in poetry, but either name 
 inditlerently signified the same thing ; 
 the first being taken from the sacrifice, 
 which was a goat ; the other from the per- 
 formers, which were peasants or villagers; 
 or from the nature of the entertainment it- 
 
 * Josephus, or his translator, designates Aliturious 
 an actor, but he was a Pantomine in high favor 
 with Nero. 
 
39 
 
 self, which was composed of rural music, 
 songs, and dances. It is presumed by some, 
 that the partition of tragedy and comedy 
 was first made, when the poets, quitting the 
 dithyrambi or hymns to Bacchus, betook 
 themselves to the representation of stories 
 or fables of their own invention ; the na- 
 ture of the subjects then becoming differ- 
 ent, according to the poet's choice, the 
 names were divided betwixt them. Or it 
 may be, that the part which we now, in a 
 restrained sense, call tragedy, being first 
 refined and improved, and becoming the 
 study and diversion of more polite men, 
 and the other continuing longer in the pos- 
 session of the villagers, retained the name 
 of comedy, for distinction sake, even after 
 its utmost improvements. I cannot in- 
 trude upon your time, nor infringe so far 
 upon my own plan, as to pursue the drama 
 through all its modifications, to its polish- 
 ed height, and vigorous form in Greece — 
 
40 
 
 nor follow its transplantation into Rome, 
 the repulsive reception it encountered 
 there, its finally surmounting all objections, 
 and elevating itself to a rank inferior only 
 to its Grecian parent. But, notwithstand- 
 ing the dramatic art improved so greatly 
 on its humble origin ; notwithstanding the 
 sacrifice of the goat had been long discon- 
 tinued — the satyri in praise of Bacchus abo- 
 lished, and the plays appointed occasionally 
 in honour of any of the Gods, so that they 
 were, as the auditors rightly observed, Ni+ 
 Ml ad Bacchum, still the stage remained sa- 
 cred to, and under the protection of its old 
 patron,* who had amongst the Romans his 
 Altar on the Right Hand of the Stage, 
 
 * The figures of tragedy and comedy frequently 
 occupy those situations in the modern theatre, but 
 they have no worshippers, nor do we wish them. — 
 We are as averse to enthusiasm as we are hostile to 
 superstition. 
 
and the particular God, to whom the play 
 was dedicated, on the left. In this state,, 
 much degenerated by show and spectacle, 
 the fathers found the Roman stage. And 
 it was occasionally profaned by represen- 
 tations of the Ludi ScenicL " Nee fas est 
 nobis audire adulteria deorum hominumq, 
 quce suavi verborum modulantur mercedef" 
 
 This being the case, a christian could not 
 be present, or assist at these representa- 
 tions, without openly countenancing or 
 conforming to the idolatrous worship of the 
 Heathens ; which the fathers, as became 
 conscientious and pious pastors, were ex- 
 tremely solicitous to prevent. They were 
 sensible of the difficulties they had to en- 
 counter, and the obstacles they had to sur- 
 mount. 
 
 f Another instance of their incorrectly blending 
 the Histriones and the Ludi. 
 
42 
 
 The christian religion was yet but newly 
 planted, and therefore until it had taken 
 sufficient root, was carefully to be covered 
 and defended from the injuries of rude 
 beasts, and the contagion of those rank su- 
 perstitious weeds that grew about it, by 
 which the root might be killed, or the soil 
 infected, and the sap withdrawn. Paganism 
 was a religion invented at first to oblige 
 and captivate the people, and gained its 
 credit and authority among them by indulg- 
 ing their sensuality, and even gratifying 
 their lusts; it was augmented by degrees, 
 by ambitious cunning men, who, to render 
 themselves more popular, and gain an in- 
 terest with the multitude, recommended to 
 them under the notion of religion, what 
 they found most acceptable to the humour 
 and palate of the populace. By this means 
 the various processions, games, and shows, 
 were introduced, and became the most for- 
 mal part of their solemnities; men being 
 
43 
 
 easily persuaded to like what was so con- 
 formable to their inclinations, that in ihe 
 exercise and discharge of their duties, their 
 senses were entertained, and their appetites 
 flattered. Against a superstition thus fra- 
 med for luxury, and contrived for sensual 
 enjoyment, Christianity was to make its 
 way, drive out those rites, destroy a title 
 founded upon the prescription of many 
 ages, supported by the authority of the 
 civil government, and fortified in its posses- 
 sion by prejudice, inclination, and interest; 
 and all this to be done with the assistance 
 only of truth, and simplicity of doctrine 
 and manners. The pomp and magnificence 
 of their solemn worship was absolutely to 
 be taken away, and their licentious practi- 
 ces to be restrained, reformed, and repla- 
 ced, by severe principles and austerity. All 
 this to be accomplished amongst a people, 
 whom the submission and tribute of the 
 world for ages, had made wealthy, proud, 
 fina wanton. 
 
44 
 
 It is not, therefore, to be wondered at if 
 those early champions of the gospel propor- 
 tioned their zeal and vigilance to the mag- 
 nitude of the occasion, and the strength of 
 the opposition. The games and shows of 
 the ancient heathens were the parts of their 
 religion the most generally engaging, that 
 attracted most and kept the multitude 
 firmest to them. The fathers, who knew 
 where the strength lay, have employed all 
 their artillery against these shows ; their 
 batteries have played incessantly upon 
 them as the only forts that were capable of 
 making resistance and stopping their pro- 
 gress — The drama, from its idolatrous ori- 
 gin, and its then existing appearance, of 
 course participated with the shows in the 
 condemnation of the fathers. It was un- 
 warrantable because idolatrous ; and, in 
 their opinion, impossible for a christian, 
 however well principled or disposed, to 
 partake of the entertainment without shar- 
 
45 
 
 ing the pollution, or to abstract the diver- 
 sion from the guilt. They thought it dan- 
 gerous to trust their converts, however for- 
 tified, to the temptation of so seductive a 
 religion, which was far from curbing the 
 appetites or laying any restraints upon the 
 desires of its proselytes. Indeed, many of 
 its duties were but panders to their lusts, 
 and most of its acts of devotion so many 
 entertainments for their senses. The por- 
 tion of those that embraced Christianity 
 was mortification and suffering, meeting 
 perpetual discouragement, and (until the 
 time of Constantine) encountering frequent 
 persecutions. Their reward was in rever- 
 sion ; their expectation, indeed, was large, 
 but the prospect was distant. Present ease 
 and enjoyment are too apt to prevail against 
 a remote hope. In our common affairs of 
 the world futurity maintains itself but ill 
 against the present ; and neither the great- 
 ness nor the certainty of the reversion will 
 
40 
 
 appear as a sufficient counter-balance to 
 the immediate possession. 
 
 This wag the case of Christianity in its 
 infancy. The heathen priesthood, content- 
 ed with the countenance aud encourage- 
 ment of the state, submitted to the directions 
 and appointment of it even in matters re- 
 lating to their own mysteries : they as- 
 sumed no dominion or jurisdiction over 
 private consciences, either in point of prin- 
 ciple or practice, but left those matters 
 wholly to the civil government, which 
 made laws for their regulation, and ap- 
 pointed magistrates for the inspection of 
 
 men's manners, in which regard was had 
 chiefly, if not only, to the public quiet and 
 security — to the preservation and augmen- 
 tation of the state. 
 
 The people therefore received easilv, a 
 religion, which, though false, gave them so 
 
47 
 
 little disturbance; their theology,like their 
 worship, was suited, and adapted to the ca- 
 pacity of the multitude. — The one consist- 
 ing of surprising fables, the other of delight- 
 ful solemnities. 
 
 But the gospel had none of these advan- 
 tages with the million ; it was not contriv- 
 ed and modelled for popularity, it did not 
 humour the inclinations, and indulge the 
 appetites of the people. To thepurity of its 
 doctrine a conformity of life and manners 
 was required, the passions were to be curbed 
 and the desires moderated. Instead of pomp 
 and learning, simplicity and sobriety 
 were to be their entertainments : — their 
 amorous Gods, whose fabulous histories 
 gave countenance to men's lusts, and en- 
 couragement to their debaucheries, were to 
 be displaced, and the knowledge and wor- 
 ship of the true one to be introduced, 
 whose majesty was as grand and awful, as 
 
48 
 
 the others were represented trifling and 
 culpable ! 
 
 These were the conditions of conversion 
 from Heathenism, and the change must ap- 
 pear to mere flesh and blood, rather dis- 
 advantageous. The Fathers, therefore, who 
 knew how hard it was to keep the appetites 
 in entire subjection, took care to fortify, as 
 strongly as possible, those parts in which 
 they expected the rebellion should first 
 break out. The plays of all the Heathen 
 solemnities were those that gave the strong- 
 est temptation to the new converts ; they 
 had so little of the air of religion, that they 
 thought if they did not countenance the 
 end and design of them, they might, with- 
 out imputation, partake of the diversion, 
 in which they met with frequent examples 
 of innocence and virtue. This alarmed 
 the Fathers, they justly apprehended that 
 their converts, from liking the entertain- 
 
merits themselves, might proceed to ap- 
 prove the occasion of them. — To obviate 
 these dangers, they summoned all their 
 prudence, and all their art ; they omitted 
 no topic which rhetoric orsatire could sup- 
 ply, to fright or persuade men from those 
 diversions. 
 
 Nor was all their zeal and caution any 
 more than was necessary — the danger was 
 great, and so was the temptation ; the fort 
 was to fee maintained not only against an 
 enemy without, but a strong faction with- 
 in ; the senses, appetites, and passions were 
 already gained to the enemies' party, noth- 
 ing remained but religion and reason to 
 make good the defence. Those generals 
 therefore that would hold out when the 
 garrison was inclined to surrender, must 
 not only display their courage and conduct, 
 but exert their jurisdiction likewise to the 
 
 utmost. This the ancient fathers did, 
 E 
 
50 
 
 whose examples have been followed by 
 many in succeeding periods, without the 
 same reason, authority, or success. 
 
 Thus, Madam, have we finished our pro- 
 jected tour, and as far as gratified curiosity 
 can be satisfactory to an inquiring mind, 
 I trust we have derived some satisfaction 
 from the expedition. — We now come to 
 the more delicate task of examining the 
 qualifications of our accusers, and the 
 
 justice of their accusations. You will 
 
 perceive we have formidable names to 
 contend with; Plato, Xenophon, x\ristotle, 
 Solon, Seneca, Cicero, Livy, and a long 
 train of &c's. frightful to enumerate. Be 
 not alarmed — there's nothing in a name — 
 "tush, tush, scare boys with bugs." — 
 Plato says, " Plays raise the passions and 
 pervert the use of them, and, by conse- 
 quence, are dangerous to morality." — 
 There is the whole of Plato's evidence — 
 
51 
 
 Now, we can produce plays that do not 
 pervert the passions, consequently, all plays 
 upon that score are not dangerous. 
 Xenophon condemns " the warm licentious- 
 ness of dramatic poets." — Licentiousness 
 is not now a necessary ingredient, it is just- 
 ly dismissed in disgrace, and therefore 
 Xenophon's opinion is quite irrelevant to 
 the subject. But I cannot dismiss this an- 
 cient worthy, without introducing to your 
 notice a passage which I met with in a pu- 
 ritanical invective, written against the stage 
 in the year 1699. — It is there set out with 
 a formality of dulness, and an affectation 
 of consequence that rendered it one of the 
 most irresistably comic passages I ever en- 
 countered. — It is a description of a dra- 
 matic entertainment, Xenophon witness- 
 ed* — where, I am not sufficiently vers- 
 ed in ancient lore, to inform you, but I 
 will give it you as I found it. "The 
 
 * Written by Socrates. 
 
52 
 
 Syracusian entered like Bacchus, with a 
 pipe before him, playing a rioting tune. 
 Then entered Ariadne, gorgeously apparel- 
 led like a bride, and sat down before the 
 company ; she did not go to meet Bacchus 
 as a dancing, nor rose from her seat, but 
 made such signs as discovered he might 
 have an easy conquest. When Bacchus 
 beheld her, he expressed his passion, as 
 much as possible, in his dance, and draw- 
 ing near her, fell down on his knees, em- 
 braced and kissed her. She, though with 
 some faint resemblance of coyness and 
 modesty, embraced him again. At this 
 the spectators gave shouts of applause ! — 
 The whole audience swore, that the boy and 
 girl loved one another in reality ; for they 
 did not act like those who had been taught 
 only to personate those gestures. At last, 
 when the company perceived that they were 
 clasped in one anothers arms, those that 
 had no wives, swore they would marry, 
 
53 
 
 and those that were married, took horse 
 and went home to their wives immedi- 
 ately." 
 
 There, Madam, there is a delicate his,- 
 trionical morceau! — But my author has 
 done us great injustice, for he brings this 
 forward as a very serious heavy charge, to 
 prove the fatal influence of theatrical re- 
 presentations! — Now, really, had we stage 
 saints, as well as kings, heroes, and bishops, 
 the Syracusean boy and girl should have a 
 theatrical canonization. At any rate, they 
 are worthy of being perpetuated through 
 the medium of statues, medals, poetry, and 
 painting. Sincerely do I wish our modern 
 Roscii had done but one ten thousandth 
 part as much service to the state, and the 
 morals of the people; — why, it is realizing 
 the good old sentiment : " The single 
 married, and the married happy."-- It must 
 have taken place in the golden age of the 
 
54 
 
 poets! — But pleasant and refreshing as this 
 delightful matrimonial prospect is, we 
 cannot remain longer to dwell upon it. — 
 We must proceed in our investigation. 
 
 Aristotle declaims against the improprie- 
 ty of subjecting youth to the danger of 
 a promiscuous company, until they are 
 sufficiently fortified against the influence of 
 corruption. He is particularly apprehen- 
 sive of drunkenness, a term to which some 
 of the disingenuous writers against the 
 stage, have given a more extensive latitude, 
 by interpreting it debauchery. To one of 
 your classical information, it will appear 
 strange that Aristotle should be arranged on 
 this side of the question ; a writer, who has 
 taken such infinite pains to establish rules 
 for the more easy and regular composition 
 of dramas, and has pronounced a finished 
 tragedy to be the most exalted effort of 
 human genius! — We must leave it to our 
 
55 
 
 judges, whether they will receive as honest 
 evidence, an insulated passage in contradic- 
 tion to a work, that must have employed 
 many years of his life. To imagine a 
 man would lay down rules for the formation 
 of a thing, of which he forbade the use, 
 would be as ridiculous, as the idea of 
 meeting a player without vanity, or a me- 
 thod ist without rancour. Solon expressed 
 his dislike to the representations of Thes- 
 pis, by striking his staff upon the ground, 
 and uttering some angry words. The 
 philosopher's choler was excited by the 
 ribaldry of an art, in its earliest and most 
 imperfect state. 
 
 Seneca expressed his displeasure towards 
 the Romans for neglecting their schools, 
 and attending too closely to their theatres. 
 Yet, I need not tell you, that this same 
 Seneca is supposed by Lipsius, Joseph Sca- 
 liger, and other celebrated critics, to have 
 
56 
 
 been the author of three tragedies, viz. 
 Medea, Hippolytus, and Troas. 
 
 Cicero disapproves of the licentiousness 
 too common in the Latin dramatic poets. — 
 But Tully, the orator, was the admirer, 
 friend, and panegyrist of Roscius the actor. 
 Let us hear this eloquent pleader's opinion 
 upon a sister art ; — he sententiously says 
 " The good and evil in a state depend great- 
 ly on the music, that is most encouraged 
 in it. If it be too light and wanton, the 
 people are insensibly rendered foolish and 
 disorderly. If, on the contrary, it be grave 
 and masculine, they become modest by its 
 influence." — Now, really, this may be all 
 very sensible, and the admirers of antiqui- 
 ty discover much wisdom and latent ex- 
 cellence in this declaration. — This profound 
 kind of trifling might have suited the genius 
 of a Roman politician, and have corres- 
 ponded with the dignity of the Tusculan 
 
57 
 
 orator. — But if Lord Henry Petty, with all 
 his passion for the art, and his musical ce- 
 lebrity into the bargain, were seriously to 
 advance such an absurd position, his friends 
 would be calculating on the melancholy 
 idea of removing him from the chapel of 
 St. Stephen's to the hospital of St, Luke's. 
 Livy condemns, with just indignation and 
 severity, the encouragement given to the 
 Ludi Scenici. — But these are representations 
 as widely different from the legitimate dra- 
 ma, as a harlequinade can be to one of th£ 
 divine compositions of Shakspeare. 
 
 I will not fatigue you or myself with wa- 
 ding through any more of these tedious 
 and perverted authorities. — Even allowing 
 the quotations cited against us in their full 
 extent, still there are left some of the great- 
 est men in antiquity, who admired the art, 
 and exerted their utmost power to cherish 
 and protect it. — Julius and Augustus were 
 
58 
 
 known to dedicate some of their leisure 
 hours, when retired from the fatigues of 
 state, to the composition of tragedy. Mar- 
 cus Brutus, a character considered to be 
 unimpeachable in Roman virtue, was a 
 warm patron and supporter of the drama. — 
 Terence, in an indirect manner, confesses 
 having received assistance from Scipio 
 Africanus, and Lelius. In short, Madam, 
 the names of these great writers change 
 sides so very often, just to suit the views 
 of the opposers or supporters of a stage, 
 that it really puzzles a plain simple man to 
 judge or determine what party they possi- 
 bly can appertain to — and by this perplex- 
 ity add stronger ridicule to the idea of cal- 
 ling upon either Greeks or Romans to de- 
 cide a question purely British ! Sincerely 
 do I wish both parties would coincide in 
 the propriety of their dismissal, nor longer 
 suffer them to entangle or confuse a contest 
 which they can neither elucidate nor ter- 
 minate. 
 
59 
 
 Having despatched the ancients, I must 
 now raise an enormous tax upon your pa- 
 tience, by entreating your attention to the o- 
 pinionsofmen who existed in an age most 
 emphatically and justly designated dark: 
 when the sun of knowledge had not strength 
 to vivify inquiry, or to animate exertion, 
 when all the nobler emanations of the mind, 
 inert, feeble, and emasculated, were easily 
 led captives, by ignorance, bigotry, and 
 superstition. What will add to our mor- 
 tification is, the necessity we shall be 
 under of being more minute and parti- 
 cular in our examination of the opinions 
 broached by ascetics and retired visiona- 
 ries, than we were in the investigation of 
 
 the more vigorous minded heathens. 
 
 It is our duty, Madam, and we must 
 perform it. — The fathers have unequivo- 
 cally and avowedly proclaimed their 
 opinions, violently and diametrically in op- 
 position to the use of a stage. — Most of 
 its succeeding adversaries have followed 
 
60 
 
 their mode of condemnation. All its pre- 
 sent opponents, who embellish themselves 
 with the name of christian, look up to the 
 early and learned churchmen as precedents 
 for their conduct. — It behoves us, there- 
 fore, to search more strictly into this enor- 
 mous, formidable display of ecclesiastical 
 vengeance. — The survey we have taken of 
 the ancient stage, will, in some measure, 
 account for the rooted antipathy express- 
 ed by the fathers. — Much praise is due to 
 them for their exertions in repelling such 
 abominations as were then exhibited. That 
 degraded, degenerate age is passed, and 
 with it, all the merit of their opposition. — 
 But still, I am inclined to call in question 
 the means they adopted to check the pro- 
 fligacy of the thing they condemned. — De- 
 ceit is unpardonable — and they have avow- 
 ed charges,;honest truth must condemn, and 
 at which reason must revolt. — I will prove 
 to you, that the zeal of these good fathers, 
 
si 
 
 so far outruns discretion, as utterly to vitiate 
 their decisions, and incapacitate them for 
 judges; St. Augustin, St. Chrysostom, St. 
 Cyprian, and Tertullian are the great au- 
 thorities from whence our modern devotees 
 draw their invectives. 
 
 St. Augustin says, " That the stage was 
 introduced into Rome for the recreation of 
 the sensualists, and admitted by the deso- 
 lute morals of the time." — this may be true 
 — but, unfortunately for the credit of him- 
 self and his admirers, he adds — " The Hea- 
 then Idols desired that it might be 
 
 DEDICATED TO THEM ! !" 1 will DOt in- 
 
 sult your understanding by expatiating on 
 this absurdity. 
 
 St. Chrysostom railed most virulently 
 against the stage, yet read and studied all 
 the dramatic poets ; and from that impure 
 source, he borrowed a style pf eloquence 
 which made him the most persuasive and 
 
62 
 
 admired preacher of his time. — 1 must here 
 remark to you, that the most violent of our 
 modern saints, approve of moral or religi- 
 ous pieces, in the form of a drama. — It is 
 the acting alone that is sinful! — You re- 
 member the big endians and the little 
 
 ENDIANS ? 
 
 St. Cyprian says, upon the silence of 
 the scripture, " with respect to plays, 
 that the divine wisdom would have had a 
 low opinion of christians, had it descended 
 to be more particular in this case !" " O 
 lame and impotent conclusion !" — Cyprian 
 is very explicit in his reasons for feeling a 
 detestation to the existence of a theatre. — 
 To his reasons, with such a provocation, 
 every honest man must subscribe. "Thea- 
 tra sunt fcediora, quo convenis verundia illic 
 omnis exuitur simul cum amictu, vestis honor 
 corporis, et pudor ponitur, denotanda, ac con- 
 trectanda, virgi?iitas revclatur." 
 
03 
 
 Tertullian has been more diffuse, more 
 absurd, and more inveterate than any of 
 them ; — we will pass by his having fallen 
 into heresy ; — this blemish in the life of the 
 holy father, would, upon any other ques- 
 tion, have worked considerably to his dis- 
 advantage. — But you know, Madam, his 
 being an enemy to the theatre, is a suffi- 
 cient apology for all the heresies into which 
 degenerate nature could lead him. — If we 
 may judge from the glaring nonsense he 
 has published against the drama, we may 
 venture to pronounce him a very probable 
 subject to be misled, or dazzled by the wan- 
 derings of his own imagination. — He says; 
 " The Devil mounted the tragedians upon 
 buskins, because he would make our Sa- 
 viour a lyar!" Passing by the absurdity 
 
 of the factitious aid of dress giving real 
 height, or breath, to the human figure — full 
 well must it be known that the cothurni, 
 or high heeled shoes, worn by the Greek tra- 
 
64 
 
 gedians, were invented upwards of one thou- 
 sand years before the birth of our Saviour! 
 The learned father seems to have been in- 
 defatigable upon the subject, for he has 
 formally recorded twelve reasons against 
 the use of a theatre. — Conceiving them to 
 embrace all the serious objections of that 
 age, and finding they have an influence up- 
 on a certain description of people, even to 
 this very day, I think they demand some 
 little of our attention; therefore with your 
 permission, I will copy them, and we will 
 pass a slight comment upon each. 
 
 1st. " Because the spirit of the gospel is 
 a spirit of gentleness; but the actors are 
 forced to put themselves into a posture of 
 warmth, and anger, and fury ; and the spec- 
 tators themselves cannot behold them with- 
 out being put into a passion." 
 
 I have certainly seen an audience evince 
 
65 
 
 no inconsiderable share of anger at bad act- 
 ing, indecencies, and improprieties. But 
 I have beheld hundreds of instances, where 
 they have remained tranquil and composed, 
 even at the very time the stage has exhibi- 
 ted some dire, fierce, and bloodless con- 
 flict. 
 
 2d. "Because vanity. which ispropertothe 
 stage, is altogether foreign to Christianity." 
 
 Were this fantastical lady to be pursued 
 through all her different shades, it would 
 be difficult to determine to whom she legi- 
 timately appertains. — Sometimes she will 
 walk demurely under a broad brim hat, 
 at others luxurate in lawn sleeves ; — 
 sometimes she will reason with a philoso- 
 pher, at others brawl with a field preacher ; 
 and even Queen Mab herself cannot exhibit 
 more versatile powers. — At any rate, she is 
 not an exclusive stage property, though 
 F 
 
66 
 
 frequently brought thither to expose her 
 own absurdities. 
 
 3rd. " Because we are not to consent to 
 people's sin." 
 
 This ingenious objection we must leave 
 to Rowland Hill, Johanna Southcoate, 
 or any other old woman, deep in mystery, 
 to enucleate. 
 
 4th. " Because men are abused in these 
 places, and neither princes, nor people 
 spared, and this being unlawful elsewhere, 
 must be unlawful upon the stage." 
 
 How glorious an eulogium ! This is the 
 highest panegyric upon the stage, I have 
 ever had the good fortune to peruse. — It 
 shows the exalted independence of the 
 dramatic muse, and the boundless extent 
 of her power. — She knows no enemy but 
 
vice. — No friend but virtue! — And, until 
 all men are honest, all princes just, all 
 soldiers valiant, all magistrates pure, and 
 all priests sincere, I hope and trust she will 
 fearlessly exercise her jurisdiction, not 
 being biassed by the rank of the cul- 
 prit, but justly indignant, at the extent of 
 his offence, 
 
 5th. "Because all immodesty and scur- 
 rility is forbid by the law of the gospel, 
 and not only acting it, but seeing and hear- 
 ing it acted." 
 
 This is as foreign to the existing drama, 
 as a decree of the court of chancery to a 
 subject of Tripoli. These offences would 
 now receive the immediate and summary 
 punishment of the audience, by censure 
 and disapprobation. 
 
 6th. " Because all Players are hypo- 
 
68 
 
 crites, seem to te what they are not, 
 and all hypocrisy is condemned by the 
 gospel." 
 
 Did you ever, Madam, at a play, ima- 
 gine Mrs. Siddons was absolutely endea- 
 vouring to persuade you she was not Mrs. 
 Siddons, but Queen Catharine? — or Mr. 
 Kemble, that he was really the proud pa- 
 trician Coriolanus?* No one of the 
 
 great pleasures arising from the exhibition 
 of the art, is knowing the actors designated 
 by their separate names, yet, witnessing 
 their skill in expressing the thoughts and 
 actions of others." 
 
 With respect to any other latitude given 
 to this offensive word, I have often wished 
 
 * If identity of person can really be absorbed in 
 imaginary character, these are two of the most pro- 
 bable specimens I know to establish the doctrine. 
 
69 
 
 my brethren possessed a share of this 
 modern succedaneum for every virtue. 
 Perhaps, though, we mistake the good 
 father, he might have been speaking lite- 
 rally ; — for I believe, Madam, the term hy- 
 pocrite originated in being applied to the 
 the ancient actors, who, by playing in 
 visors, appeared that which they were noU 
 How customs change! The stage adepts 
 have dropt the visor ; and adepts of another 
 description have taken it up ! 
 
 7th. "Because the actors very often 
 belie their sex, and put on woman's apparel, 
 which is forbid by the law of God." 
 
 In the days of Tertullian there were no 
 actresses, the female characters* were re- 
 
 * Female pharacters were not represented by 
 women upon the English stage until after the re- 
 storation. 
 
70 
 
 presented by youths. With respect to the 
 change of dress I am aware the Mosaic law 
 condemns the custom ; the reason for 
 which, those versed in the Jewish anti- 
 quities, customs and manners, can proba- 
 bly furnish us. I profess my ignorance. — 
 I only know we do not practice the purifi- 
 cations, and the many peculiar and minute 
 regulations to be found in the books of Le- 
 viticus and Deuteronomy. 
 
 8th. " Because these plays dull and damp 
 devotion and seriousness, which is, and 
 ought to be, the indelible character of 
 christians." 
 
 We do not wish to damp pure devotion ; 
 on the contrary, it is our desire to fan the 
 flame. We certainly are averse to dull 
 seriousness. For my own part, Madam, 
 sincerely do I wish the word banished from 
 our vocabulary. — There are at present as 
 
many absurdities, impertinences, and fol- 
 lies concealed under the epithet serious, as 
 under that of shaker. 
 
 9th. "Because it is a disparagement to 
 God, to lift up those hands to applaud a 
 player which we lift up to the throne of 
 grace." 
 
 Ah ! my good father, it is not the lifting 
 up the hands but the elevation of the heart 
 that will be acceptable to thy judge and 
 mine! — The Mahometans and the eastern 
 idolators lay a stress upon the application 
 and religious uses of the hands, but the 
 enlightened christian looks with contempt 
 and pity upon such puerilities. — If the 
 mind is sincerely devout, the hands will 
 follow in correspondent movements; — 
 nor will it ever be required at the 
 throne of mercy, what was their previous 
 occupation. 
 
7* 
 
 10th. " Because experience shows how 
 the devil hath sometimes possessed chris- 
 tians in a play-house, and being afterwards 
 cast out, confessed that he had reason to 
 enter them, because he found them in his 
 own place* " 
 
 Oh Madam ! what a foolish devil ! Had 
 he kept his own council, what noble sport 
 he would have had upon his royal manor ! 
 
 * Tertullian very gravely gives us the instance in 
 the following style : 
 
 "A certain woman went to the play-house, and 
 brought the devil home with her. And when the 
 unclean spirit was pressed in the exorcism, and asked 
 how he durst attack a christian ? — I have done no- 
 thing (says he) but what I can justify — for I siezed 
 her upon my own ground." 
 
 De SpectacvliiSj Cap. 26. 
 
 But why should this excite surprise ? John Wes- 
 ley in the eighteenth century, declared in the pre- 
 sence of a numerous company, (Dr. Coke being one) 
 that the whole bench of bishops together, could not 
 Walidate the reality of witchcraft ! ! ! 
 
73 
 
 — To scare the game from his net, shows 
 him to have been then a very silly Devil in- 
 deed. I fancy since that period he has 
 grown a great deal wiser, for he now makes 
 sure of his prey, without acquainting us 
 whether he takes it from the tabernacle or 
 the play-house. 
 
 11th. "Because no man can serve two 
 masters, God and the World, as those chris- 
 tians pretend to do, that frequent both the 
 church and stage.*" 
 
 No man can serve God and Mammon ; 
 and he who neglects his duty to his Maker, 
 or suffers it to be abstracted by any pur- 
 
 *I wonder they have never pressed the Decalogue 
 into the service. Thou shalt not steal — would evi- 
 dently apply to the author. 
 
 Thou shalt not commit murder — might be very ap- 
 propriately applied to the actors . 
 
74 
 
 suit, (I care not what it be) commits the 
 crying and grievous sin of ingratitude. — 
 But he who suffers an amusement to absorb 
 his devotions, is a contemptible idiot, be- 
 neath reproof, and would disgrace correc- 
 tion. — This rule, like most of the objections 
 furnished in the days of the fathers, against 
 the stage, no longer applies. It is non- 
 sense to suppose that a couple of hours of 
 rational entertainment, after the fatigues of 
 a day, can interfere with our duty to God 
 or man. But, in the time Turtullian lived, 
 this caution was absolutely requisite ; for 
 the Roman shows would occupy a whole 
 day, and by their pageantry draw off the ear- 
 ly christians, not only from their usual avo- 
 
 Thou shalt not bow down nor bend before any gra- 
 ven image — would be an excellent admonition to those 
 audiences that bestow such enthusiastic applause upon 
 canvass camels, wooden horses, pasteboard men, and 
 basket elephants f 
 
75 
 
 cations, but to the utter neglect of all their 
 religious forms and ceremonies. 
 
 12th. " Because, though some speeches 
 in a play are witty and ingenious, yet there 
 is poison at the bottom, and vice is only 
 coloured and gilded with fine language and 
 curious emblems, that it may go down more 
 glibly, and ruin the soul more artificially." 
 
 This is the only rule of the twelve that 
 has survived the wreck of time, and still 
 bears a capability of application to the pre- 
 sent stage. Any play, confirming the truth 
 of the remarks contained in Tertullian's 
 twelfth objection, should be considered in 
 the most reprehensible point of view, and 
 consigned, with infamy, to oblivion. — But 
 until all plays are proved to possess this 
 pernicious inclination, the stage remains 
 uninjured ! Now, Madam, is it not really 
 lamentable, deplorable, aggravating to the 
 
79 
 
 extreme, that a great invention, a sublime 
 art, should be opposed by such an over- 
 whelming mass of nonsense and stupidity : 
 nor is it the least provoking part, to be con- 
 scious of the ungenerous, nefarious mode 
 our opponents take to direct this incongru- 
 ous, misshapen chaos of absurdities to our 
 disadvantage. — The great and good men 
 who have evinced their approbation of the 
 dramatic art, not only by their countenance, 
 but by their writings, are depreciated, dis- 
 missed, with every mark of contempt, de- 
 creed ignorant of true religion, and denoun- 
 ced as advocates in the service of the De- 
 vil ! A St. Cyprian, and a Tertullian, on 
 the contrary, are held forth as beings of the 
 very first order ; whose opinions, upon 
 this one subject, are held as sacred oracles, 
 irresistable, irrefragable, and infallible ! — 
 Will they direct us where we can find, 
 among the fathers, a stronger practical les- 
 son upon the belief of Christianity, than the 
 
77 
 
 death -bed of Addison — the author of two 
 plays, and during the whole of his life, the 
 warm supporter, friend and encourager of 
 the drama — his final exit displaying and 
 combining the mildness of a christian, with 
 the resolution of a stoic ! 
 
 Yet a brazen faced sophist has had the te- 
 merity to affirm, that "the theatre made 
 even Addison forget his virtue and his 
 creed ! Which of the fathers had the ad- 
 vantage of Dr. Johnson, in moral practice 
 or intellectual excellence? — Yet he is the 
 writer of a tragedy, and his chefd'ceuvres are 
 his preface to Shakspeare's works, and his 
 prologue for the opening of Drury-lane 
 theatre. 
 
 Where will they find, in the whole round 
 of antiquity, a name superior to Milton ?— 
 Why should they invidiously pass him over 
 to ransack the dust for beings known only 
 by their polemical squabbles, and venerar 
 
78 
 
 ble only for the magnitude and ponderosity 
 of their heavy folios. — Even if you did not 
 coincide with me in opinion upon this sub- 
 ject, yet such is thesuperior discrimination 
 and native ingenuousness of your mind, 
 that you would pronounce yourself a con- 
 vert to the stage, by a single perusal of 
 Milton's preface to his Sampson Agonistes. 
 
 " Tragedy," says he, " as it was ancient- 
 ly composed, has been held the GREATEST 
 moralist and most profitable of all other 
 poems : therefore said by Aristotle to 
 be of power, by raising pity and fear, or 
 terror, to purge the mind of those and such 
 like passions ; that is, to temper and re- 
 duce them to just measure, with a kind of 
 delight, stirred up by, the reading, or see- 
 ing those passions well imitated. Hence 
 philosophers and other grave writers, as 
 Cicero, Plutarch, and others, frequent- 
 ly cite out of tragic poets, both to adorn 
 and illustrate their discourse. The apostle 
 
79 
 
 Paul himself thought it not unworthy to 
 insert a verse of Euripides into the text 
 
 OF HOLY SCRIPTURE. I. Cor. C 15. V. 
 
 38. — And Peraeus, commenting on the Re- 
 velation, divides the whole book as a tragedy 
 into acts, distinguished each by a chorus of 
 heavenly harpings and songs between." 
 
 " Heretofore men in the highest dignity 
 have laboured not a little to be thought 
 able to compose a Tragedy. Of that 
 honour Dionysius the elder, was no less 
 ambitious, than before of his attaining the 
 tyranny. Augustus Cesar, also had be- 
 gun his Ajax, but unable to please his own 
 judgment with what he had begun, left it 
 unfinished. Seneca the philosopher, is by 
 some thought the author of those tragedies 
 (at least the best of them) that go under 
 his name. Gregory Nazianzen, a fa- 
 ther of the Church, thought it not 
 unbecoming the sanctity of his person, to 
 
write a tragedy which he entitled Christ's 
 Sufferings." 
 
 Now, Madam, what say you to the strong 
 evidence in our favour, thus furnished by a 
 religious poet, and Latin secretary to the 
 puritanical Oliver, whose attainments as a 
 ischolar, whose skill as a poet, and whose 
 integrity as a man, stands unimpeachable ? 
 
 It is with extreme regret I feel myself 
 under the necessity of detaining you a few 
 minutes longer in this disgusting investiga- 
 tion ; but I have yef in reserve, a few more 
 absurdities, to which I must call your at- 
 tention. 
 
 Jeremy Collier, a n&me high in the list 
 of our correctors, having given some instan- 
 ces of the lamentable pruriencies, to be 
 found in the writers of his day, proceeds to 
 the accusation of profaneness. He then 
 
81 
 
 particularizes. Some of his extracts,! will 
 furnish you with, that you may feel the full 
 value of his pindaric flight. 
 
 Valentine, in Love for Love; says 
 * I am Truth, I am Truth. — Who's that 
 that's out of his way ? — / am Truth, and can 
 set him right." 
 
 Lady Brute, in The Provoked Wife, 
 observes " The part of a down-right wife, 
 is to cuckold her husband : — and though this 
 is against the strict statute law of religion, 
 yet if there were a Court of Chancery in 
 Heaven, she would be sure to cast him. 9 * 
 
 Young Fashion in The Relapse, 
 when plotting against his elder brother, re- 
 marks to his servant: "Lory, Providence 
 thou seest, at last, takes care of men of mer- 
 it" — Berinthia says to Amanda : " Mr. 
 Worthy used you like a text, he took you all 
 
 to pieces" — and she concludes with this 
 G 
 
 
pious exhortation, %e Now consider what has 
 been said, and Heaven give you grace to put 
 it in practice" 
 
 Mr. Collier declares, " There are few of 
 these last quotations but what are plain blas- 
 phemy, and within the law. They look 
 reeking as if it were from Pandemonium, 
 and almost smell of fire and brimstone. 
 This is an eruption of Hell with a witness! 
 I almost wonder the smoke of it has not 
 darkened the sun, and turned the air to 
 plague and poison ! These are outrageous 
 provocations; enough to arm all nature in 
 revenge ; to exhaust the judgments of Hea- 
 ven, and sink the island into the sea! ! !" 
 
 Observe, that I am far from considering 
 these profane passages, or any similar to 
 them, justifiable. — No — I deeply deplore 
 the propensity, that too many dramatic 
 writers have, for trifling with opinions, trom 
 
83 
 
 whence wit should not be elicited, nor into 
 which ridicule should not be infused. Had 
 I my Lord Chamberlain's pen to exercise, 
 upon the new pieces, I must candidly con- 
 fess, it would be very freely employed in 
 the erasure of those lively jests, too imbe- 
 cile to be impious, and too dull to be wit- 
 ty ; viz. " I would shake hands with Old 
 
 Nick." " A fig for all the saints in the 
 
 calendar, &c. &c. &c. But to imagine 
 
 the follies of all the poets that ever exist- 
 ed, could poison the air, darken the sun, 
 and sink the island, is forming an idea so 
 base, so puerile, so unworthy of the great 
 enlightened incomprehensible Creator, as 
 to make it a doubt which is the most repre- 
 hensible, the poet, or the right reverend 
 critic. 
 
 The next in order, gives me a consider- 
 able degree of pain to drag to public light, 
 and it is with no small degree of diffidence, 
 
84 
 
 I proceed to the attack of an opinion 
 emanating from a man of known genius and 
 splendid abilities. — " But men are but 
 men." — And when I reflect upon the vio- 
 lent adversary of the amiable Fenelon, I 
 am released from a great part of my aston- 
 ishment, in perusing the following invective 
 of the right reverend Bishop of Meaux, 
 against the stage, and the high panegyric 
 upon the Israelites ! He says, " They 
 had no shows to entertain but their feasts, 
 their sacrifices, and their holy ceremonies. 
 They were formed, by their constitution, 
 to a plain and natural way of living: they 
 knew nothing of these fancies and inven- 
 tions of Greece ; so that to the praise that 
 Balaam gives them that there is no en- 
 chantment in Jacob, nor divination in Is- 
 rael, we may likewise add, there was no 
 theatre among them, nothing of these 
 dangerous amusements to be met with :— 
 This innocent and undebauched peo- 
 
85 
 
 pie took their recreations at home, and 
 made their children their diversion!" 
 
 That the learned Bossuet should so 
 far suffer prejudice to cloud his reason and 
 fetter his understanding, is indeed a sub- 
 ject not more for astonishment than regret. 
 To find a man of his elevated rank in the 
 republic of letters, eulogising the Hebrews, 
 and giving them the pre-eminence to all 
 the splendid nations of antiquity, must 
 ever stand as an extraordinary aberration 
 of genius, and be classed as a phenomena 
 
 in literature. What could recommend 
 
 them so particularly to his notice? Was 
 it their perverseness, their ingratitude, their 
 cruelty? — Was it their inclination for war, 
 their blood-thirsty revenge, their intoler- 
 ance, their vacillancy, their superstition, 
 their pertinacious ignorance ? — Where are 
 their virtues recorded ? In vain do we 
 search for them in their own historians; 
 
86 
 
 from Moses down to Josephus, it is but a 
 melancholy catalogue of the base qualities 
 I have enumerated. A people possessing 
 all the brutal vices of the ancients, without 
 the display of their virtues, or the adorn- 
 ment ©f their elegancies. A people whom 
 neither mercy could conciliate, nor mira- 
 cles convince*. 
 
 A people, that of all others, required 8t 
 theatre to improve their morals, and ame- 
 liorate their manners. 
 
 Let their own writers speak for them : 
 •* And they tempted God in their heart, 
 " by asking meat for their lusts." 
 
 * How shall I pardon thee for this ? Thy 
 
 * God's pamper'd people, whom, debauch'd with ease, 
 No King could govern, and no God could please. 
 
 Dryden* 
 
87 
 
 "children have forsaken me, and sworn by 
 "them that are no Gods; when I have fed 
 " them to the full, then they committed 
 "adultery and assembled themselves by 
 " troops in the harlots houses. They were 
 " as fed horses in the morning, and every 
 " one neighed after his neighbour's wife." 
 
 " Hear the word of the Lord, ye chil- 
 " dren of Israel, for the Lord hath a contro- 
 " versy with the inhabitants of the land 
 " because there is no truth, nor mercy, nor 
 "knowledge of God in the land. By 
 "swearing, and lying, and stealing, 
 "and committing adultery, they 
 * break out, and, blood toucheth blood !" 
 
 Such were the amusements of this inno- 
 cent and undebauched people*. 
 
 ■ * When I express myself thus about the ancient 
 Jews, I do not mean the smallest irreverence to their 
 
88 
 
 Now, Madam, I will give you two hap- 
 py specimens of downright stupid puri- 
 tanism. 
 
 "A remarkable judgment followed on 
 Herod Agrippa, who appearing on the 
 stage in a silver robe of admirable work- 
 manship, and being received by the accla- 
 mations of the people as a god, because 
 of the beams which darted from his appa- 
 rel, by the reflection of the sun, was im- 
 mediately smitten with a grievous disease, 
 by something that appeared in the shape of 
 an Owl, hovering over his head ; and be- 
 ing tormented for five days with an intoler- 
 able pain in his bowels, was at last misera- 
 bly devoured by worms !" The Lord pre- 
 mrve us ! ! ! 
 
 great and holy men. — No — their characters are too 
 exalted to be the subject either of my panegyric or 
 satire. I speak only of the nation at large. 
 
89 
 
 This will only excite your laughter; 
 the next will most sensibly call forth your 
 
 indignation and reprobation! It is a 
 
 liberal opinion proclaimed from the pulpit, 
 in one of the churches of Kingston-upon- 
 Hull, in the year 1792. I take it verbatim, 
 from Mr. Wilkinson's Wandering Patentee, 
 (the late manager of the York and Hull 
 theatres.) 
 
 " No player or any of his children 
 ought to be intitledtoa christian burial, 
 or even to lie in a church yard! Not 
 one of them can be saved ? — And those 
 who enter a play-house, are equally 
 certain with the players of eternal 
 damnation! — No player can be an honest 
 man I !" 
 
 It is utterly undeserving of any com- 
 ment; if the man should be now living 
 and capable of reflection, I leave him to 
 
90 
 
 the comforfs of his own consolation. — If 
 he has departed, it is my duty to for^i^e 
 him, and leave the above on record, as a 
 memento of his crime! 
 
 I cannot injustice close my retrospective 
 examination, without registering the opin- 
 ion of Jeremy Collier upon the drama. The 
 praise of an enemy, Madam, must be ever 
 valuable. — Collier was our severe accuser, 
 yet he says, " The business of plays, is to 
 commend virtue, and discountenance vice ; 
 to show the uncertainty of human greatness, 
 the sudden turns of fate, and the unhappy 
 conclusions of violence and injustice; 'tis 
 to expose the singularities of pride and 
 fancy, to make folly and falsehood contemp* 
 tible, and to bring every thing that is ill 
 under infamy and neglect." He further 
 says, "The wit of man cannot invent any 
 thing more conducive to virtue and des- 
 tructive of vice than the drama, and 1 grant 
 
01 
 
 the abuse of a thing is no argument 
 against the use of it. — I have kept this by 
 way of a bonne bouche. He was the most 
 formidable of our opponents, and like 
 Prynne, has furnished the subsequent 
 vain antagonists with food for calumny and 
 aspersion. 
 
 And now permit me to congratulate you 
 and myself, for having at length waded 
 through this strange medley ; and you will 
 now possibly inquire for the necessity 
 of collecting all these absurdities? My 
 good Madam, the obloquy thrown upon the 
 stage professors has originated from these 
 extravagant flights. From this source the 
 Romish clergy imbibed the presumptuous 
 audacity to withhold christian interment 
 from actors. From these mouldy docu- 
 ments the puritans pertinaciously and 
 zealously have contended for the demoli- 
 tion of the stage, and the suppression of 
 
92 
 
 the drama. — To these antiquated notions I 
 am indebted for slights that disgrace me 
 in my own eyes, and depreciate me 
 
 in the estimation of the world. 1 
 
 therefore entertain a hope, that by this 
 candid view of the ancient stage, with 
 the minute examination into the opin- 
 ions of its cotemporary accusers, I shall 
 have fully exposed the impropriety of 
 calling them in to decide upon any dis- 
 pute that may arise, on this long contended 
 subject, in the nineteenth century. I like- 
 wise wish to lead the contending parties to 
 a more rational exercise of their energies, 
 by urging them to a calm investigation of 
 the thing itself, its merits and its defects ; the 
 good derived, or the evils arising from its 
 existence, for the last two centuries. If 
 we are to be abused, let me entreat them to 
 exercise their ingenuity, and furnish us 
 with some novelty in their censures. Do 
 not let us be stunned by the repetition of 
 
93 
 
 quotations incapable of application ; sen- 
 tences without sense, and philippics with- 
 out poignancy. I received much amuse- 
 ment in meeting with an attack upon the 
 stage by a Chinese writer, — with great 
 pleasure and frankness I present it to our 
 English assailants, and hope it will stimu.. 
 late them to emulation. 
 
 " Plays are fire-works of wit, to be 
 viewed only on the night of leisure. — 
 They degrade and dirty those who let 
 them off ; they fatigue the delicate eyes 
 of the sages ; they supply dangerous 
 ruminations to idleness; they stain the 
 women and the children who approach 
 too often and too near; they make a 
 smoke and a stink more lasting than the 
 gaiety of their light; they dazzle but to 
 mislead ; and they often occasion ruinous 
 conflagration !" 
 
94 
 
 This, madam, is a brilliant display of 
 philosophical fire-works, for the amuse- 
 ment of our friends ! — Its coruscations 
 will not be dimmed, nor its figurative 
 excellence be diminished, by my declar- 
 ing the Chinese stage is exactly upon a 
 par with the original cart of Thespis, con- 
 structed in the same manner, and degraded 
 by a similar jumble of puerilities, inde- 
 cencies, and improbabilities, the witness- 
 ing of which would excite as much indig- 
 nation in the breast of a Chinese Confu- 
 cius, as it did of old in the breast of the 
 Athenian Solon. 
 
 To revert once more to the Heathen 
 philosophers and church fathers, there 
 seems something very unaccountable and 
 perverse in our rigid sectaries, looking up 
 to them for instruction upon any subject. 
 Why should they require any other guide 
 than that set down and bequeathed to 
 us, by our great master and his disciples ? 
 
95 
 
 . Why should they, upon every trivial 
 occasion of life, refer us to the scrip- 
 ture for instruction and information, and 
 yet upon the subject of stage, or 
 no stage, a subject they have them- 
 selves magnified, as a matter of the 
 greatest importance; why wish to de- 
 prive us of every advantage the gospel 
 may hold forth, and, by collecting a 
 heap of rubbish, endeavour to hide it from 
 our view? 
 
 What claim to our attention can the 
 Heathen philosophers, or early christian 
 fathers possess, upon a present speculative 
 point ? — I mean, Madam, it is so far spec- 
 ulative, that a nation can exist, and proba- 
 bly flourish without a theatre — so it could 
 if deprived of poetry — of painting — of 
 music of statuary or even of Me- 
 thodism ! For my own part, the philo- 
 sophers and fathers I boldly reject ; 1 dis- 
 
96 
 
 claim subjection to their jurisdiction in 
 theatricals, and make my appeal at once to 
 the scripture, the proper guide for chris- 
 tians ! If the practice of the present stage 
 be not at variance with the precepts of our 
 Saviour and his disciples, if that divine 
 record does not positively condemn our 
 pursuits, I shall remain as perfectly indif- 
 ferent upon this subject, to the opinions of 
 Tertuilian and Cyprian, as I should be to 
 the ipse dixit of TOM O'NOKES, or 
 JOHN O'STYLES!!! 
 
 And now Madam, with every sense of 
 gratitude for your attention and perseve- 
 rance, I respectfully take my leave, by sub- 
 scribing myself, 
 
 Madam, 
 Your most obedient, 
 Much obliged, humble Servant, 
 Robert ManseL 
 
FATHER CAFFARO'S LETTER 
 
 UPON THE 
 
 Lawfulness or Unlawfulness of the Stage ; 
 
 WITH A 
 
 BRIEF INTRODUCTION. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 When I had the good fortune to encounter Father 
 Caffaro's discourse, it struck me as a most suitable 
 prolegomena to a stage-defence. — I hailed him as a 
 powerful ally — I congratulated myself upon meeting 
 with an ecclesiastic who had undertaken the task of 
 investigating the objections started by the earlier 
 churchmen, and combating them upon their own 
 grounds. I conceived (however the world might des- 
 pise my feeble efforts, or condemn the liberties I have 
 taken with opinions rendered venerable by antiquity 
 and sacred by prescription) the religious and conscien- 
 tious would pay some degree of deference to one of 
 their own community. — Nor must my illustrious 
 
 H 
 
98 
 
 coadjutor be rejected because he was of a different 
 persuasion to our present adversaries, nor reproached 
 with the terms of Papist and Jesuit to depreciate 
 his candour, industry and information. It was my 
 design (as I have premised) to have made him my in- 
 troducer to the public, and under his venerable pro- 
 tection, I might perhaps have more certainly com- 
 manded respect and attention, but some considerable 
 time having- elapsed from the^jfinal arrangement of 
 < 4 Free Thoughts," to the period of delivering the work 
 into the hands of my publisher, I had leisure, oppor- 
 tunity, and inclination to collect fresh matter, and 1 
 was tempted to throw it into the form of a prefatory 
 letter, by which means the learned professor is re- 
 moved from the van to the centre. He therefore (to 
 pursue the metaphor) loses the post of honour, and 
 my antagonists may take advantage of the undisciplin- 
 ed state, and badly marshalled system, evident in 
 the van and rear — but my centre will remain 
 inviolable, and bid defiance to all their arts and all 
 their efforts. 
 
 Father Cajfartfs letter, or rather the translation, is 
 prefixed to a tragedy written by a Mr.Motteu3\c.'d\\ed 
 Beauty in Distress, published in the year lb98— 
 
99 
 
 H appears the English dramatist was himself labouring 
 under some conscientious scruples, and applied for 
 satisfaction on that head, to a Divine of the Church 
 of England, who favoured him with the following 
 answer. 
 
 To Mr. MOTTEUX, 
 
To Mr. MOTTEUX, 
 
 AUTHOR OF THE TRAGEDY CALLED 
 
 "BEAUTY in DISTRESS," 
 
 Concerning the Lawfulness and Unlawful- 
 ness of Plays. 
 
 Sir, 
 Since you have been pleased to desire my opinion 
 about the lawfulness or unlawfulness of writing" plays 
 for the stage, I shall give it you with all the freedom 
 and impartiality which becomes one of my function. 
 Upon reflecting on the present management of our 
 theatres, on the actions, humours, and characters, which 
 are daily represented there, which are for the most part 
 so lewd and immodest, as to tend very much to the 
 debauching the youth and gentry of our English na- 
 tion ; I might very well dissuade you from giving any 
 countenance to such unmanly practices, by offering 
 any of your works to the service of the stage. 
 
 But though theatrical representations are become 
 an offence and scandal to most, yet I am not of their 
 
101 
 
 mind, who think plays are absolutely unlawful, and 
 the best way to reform is wholly to suppress them; 
 for certainly they might be of very great use not 
 
 ONLY FOR THE DIVERSION AND PLEASURE, BUT ALS° 
 FOR THE CORRECTION AND INFORMATION OF MAN- 
 KIND. It is no crime to eat or drink, but the sin lies 
 in the excessive and immoderate use, or rather abuse 
 of those things, which we either eat or drink ; the 
 case is much the same with plays. In their own na- 
 ture they are innocent and harmless diversions ; but 
 then indeed they become sinful and unlawful, to be 
 made, acted, or seen, when they transgress the bounds 
 of virtue and religion; shock our nature; put our 
 modesty to the blush ; imprint nauseous and unbecom- 
 ing- images on our minds ; and, in a word, when they 
 are such as are a scandal to the author, and an offence 
 to the audience. 
 
 I am not willing to believe so hardly of the age 
 (though it is bad enough of all conscience) but that 
 most of the persons who frequent the theatres would 
 be as well pleased to see a play of decorum and mo- 
 desty acted, as they would be to see a lewd and athe- 
 istical comedy. It is upon this consideration that I am 
 willing to encourage you in your design of writing 
 plays for the stage ; for you have too much prudence, 
 
102 
 
 honour and conscience, to subject thesAcREp nine to 
 base and servile ends. It is to be hoped, that such as 
 you may be a means of reforming the abuses of the 
 stage, and of showing the world that a poet may be a 
 man of sense and parts, without renouncing his 
 virtue. 
 
 I shall not trouble you at present with any farther 
 thoughts of my own, but will give you the sentiments 
 of a very judicious divine upon this subject. 
 
 It seems he was consulted by a gentleman, whether 
 plays were lawful or not, and whether he might in 
 conscience exercise his parts that way? to this the 
 divine replies in the ensuing letter, showing how far 
 plays are lawful and necessary, and when they become 
 unlawful and sinful : the resolutions of these will, 1 
 trust, come up to your purpose. By this judicious 
 dissertation, you will find your whole desire satisfied. 
 You will perceive he has brought the schoolmen to 
 speak in favour of the Drama, and has explained the 
 invectives of the fathers against it, so as to make them 
 on its side. He has answered the most material ob- 
 jections which can be brought against the stage, and 
 given very necessary precautions to such as go to the 
 play-houses.— You will perceive he is a French divine,, 
 
103 
 
 (Father Caflaro, brother to the Duke of ■ ■■ ) one 
 of the Romish religion, who has given us his thoughts 
 in the form of a letter ; and it is in behalf of the plays 
 acted in France that he argues. But were he to 
 see our English stage, he would never say such fine 
 things of it; unless he saw it stocked only with plays 
 and entertainments innocently diverting and strictly 
 moral, as those which you have hitherto so successfully 
 published, are generally allowed to be. 
 
 With a compliment to Mr. Motteux upon his 
 " Beauty in Distress," which it would be superflu- 
 ous transcribing, his reverence subscribes himself, 
 Sir, 
 
 Your real friend to serve you. 
 1697—8. 
 
 This tragedy is likewise honoured by some of Mr. 
 Dryden's lines to the author being affixed to the piece. 
 Their application comes so immediately home to the 
 views of the present opposers of dramatic amusement, 
 that I cannot resist my wish to give them a place, pre- 
 vious to entering upon the learned Father's discourse. 
 
104 
 
 TO MY FRIEND THE AUTHOR. 
 
 'Tis hard, my friend, to write in such an age, 
 As damns not only poets, but the stage. 
 That sacred art, by Heav'n itself infus'd, 
 Which Moses, David, Solomon have us'd, 
 Is now to be no more : The muse's foes 
 Would sink their Maker's praises into prose. 
 Were they content to prune the lavish vine 
 Of straggling" branches, and improve the wine, 
 Who but a madman would his faults defend? 
 All would submit, for all but fools would mend. 
 But, when to common sense they give the lie, 
 And turn distorted words to blasphemy, 
 They give the scandal ; and the wise discern, 
 Their glosses teach an age too apt to learn. 
 What I have loosely or profanely writ, 
 Let them to fires (their due desert) commit. 
 Nor whenaccus'd by me, let them complain : 
 Their faults and not their functions, I arraign. 
 Rebellion, worse than whichcraft, they pursu'd; 
 The pulpit preach'd the crime : the people ru'd. 
 The stage was silenc'd for the saints would see 
 In fields perform'd their plotted tragedy. 
 But let us first reform : and then so live, 
 That we may teach our teachers to forgive, 
 
105 
 
 Our desk be placed below their lofty chairs, 
 Our's be the practice, as the precept theirs. 
 The moral part at least we may divide, 
 Humility reward, and punish pride : 
 Ambition, int'rest, avarice accuse : 
 These form the province of the tragic muse. 
 
 There are upwards of twenty lines following- these, 
 (highly flattering to the poetical character of Mr. 
 Motteux ; but as he has not had the good fortune to 
 survive the sweeping influence of two centuries) it 
 would only be trespassing on the reader's time and 
 indulgence by making the addition. 
 
 Father Caffaro having quoted only three texts 
 applied by the opponents of the drama against the use 
 of thestage, viz. Isaiah c. 3. v. 16, 17. I. Cor. c. 10. 
 v. 7. I. Thes. c. 5. v. 22.— I am compelled by 
 candour, a love of truth, and the strong desire of 
 having the question tried upon scriptural ground, to 
 add those texts I have met with in various authors who 
 have written upon this subject. Proverbs c. 23. v. 1. 
 Matt. c. 5. v. 28. Luke, c. 8. v. 14. John, c. 2. 
 V. 16. Rom. c. 13. v. 13, 14. Gal. c. 5. v. 16. 
 Eph. c. 5. v. 4. Col. c. 3. v. 2, 3, 5, 8.— c. 4. v. 6. 
 I. Tim. c. 2. v. 5, 6, 9. II. Tim. c. 2. v. 3, 4. Titus 
 
106 
 
 c. 3. v. 3. James, c. 4. v. 3. I. Pet. c. 1. v. 17. — 
 c. 5. v. 8* 
 
 I have myself diligently sought after, and attentively 
 perused those several passages ; but such is my blind- 
 ness, ignorance, or stupidity, I cannot for the life of 
 me discover the smallest affinity between the differ- 
 ent verses and the thing under reprobation. However, 
 conviction being my object, I shall ever consider 
 myself indebted to that man who will prove, to my 
 sa' isfaclion, the propriety of applying them to the 
 condemnation of the drama. 
 
 
A LETTER 
 
 TROM THE 
 
 LEARNED FATHER CAFFARO, 
 
 Professor of Divinity in Paris, 
 
 TO A 
 
 DRAMATIC WRITER, 
 
 Who had, from conscientious scruples, con- 
 sulted the Reverend Divine, upon the 
 Lawfulness or Unlawfulness of Writing 
 for the Stage : 
 
 WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 16 . 
 
 Sir, 
 
 I have avoided as much as T could, 
 giving you my opinion in writing, about 
 plays, considering the delicacy of the sub- 
 ject, and my own incapacity. But since 
 you press me still to cure you of that scru- 
 pulous fear which lies upon your mind, I 
 must pass over those two difficulties, choos- 
 ing rather to expose myself on your ac- 
 count, than not to ease jou of your doubts. 
 
108 
 
 In truth, Sir, the more I examine the holy 
 fathers, the more I read the divines, and 
 consult the casuists, the less able I find my- 
 self to determine any thing in this matter. 
 I had no sooner found something in favour 
 of the Drama among the schoolmen, who 
 
 ARE ALMOST ALL OF THEM FOR ALLOWING IT, 
 
 but I perceived myself surrounded with 
 abundance of passages out of the Councils, 
 and the Fathers, who have all of them de- 
 clared against public shows.* — This ques- 
 tion would have been soon determined, if 
 the Holy Scriptures had said any thing 
 about it. But, as Tertullian very well ob- 
 serves, " We no where find that we are as 
 expressly forbidden in scripture to go to 
 the circus and theatre, to see the fightings 
 of gladiators, or be assisting in any show, 
 as we are forbid to worship idols, or the 
 being guilty of murder, treason, and adul- 
 
 * Vide introductory letter, page 59 — 75. 
 
109 
 tery." If you read the scriptures over 
 
 AND OVER YOU WILL NEVER MEET WITH ANY 
 EXPRESS AND PARTICULAR PRECEPT AGAINST 
 
 plays. The fathers assert, that we cannot 
 in conscience be any ways assisting to the 
 drama. The schoolmen maintain the con- 
 trary : let us therefore endeavour to make 
 use of St. Cyprian's rule, who says, that 
 reason is to be heard, where Holy Writ is si- 
 lent; and let us try to reconcile the conclu- 
 sions of the divines, with the determina- 
 tion of the fathers of the church. But 
 because it is a very delicate point, and 
 the question consists in reconciling them 
 together, I will not advance any thing of 
 my own sentiments, but bring St. Thomas 
 Aquinas to speak for me; who being on 
 one side a religious father, and holy doc- 
 tor of the church ; and, on the other 
 side, the angel of the school, the master 
 and head of all the divines, he seems to me 
 the most proper of any to reconcile the dis- 
 agreeing opinions of both parties. 
 
110 
 
 In the second part of his " Summs," 
 among others, he starts this question : 
 "What ought we to think of sports and di- 
 versions?" And he returns an answer to 
 himself, that provided they are moderate, 
 they are not only free from sin, but in some 
 measure good, and conformable to that 
 virtue, which Aristotle stiles Eutrapelia, 
 whose business it is to set just bounds to our 
 pleasures. The reason which healledgesfor 
 it is this : A man being fatigued by the seri- 
 ous actions of life, requires an agreeable re* 
 freshment, which he can find no where so 
 well as in plays: and to support his opi- 
 nion, he quotes St. Augustin, who says, " I 
 would have you take care of yourself, for it 
 is (he part of a wise man, sometimes to un- 
 bend his mind, which is too intent upon his 
 business." 
 
 " Now, (continues St. Thomas) how can 
 *his relaxation of the mind be effected, if 
 
Ill 
 
 not by diverting words or actions ? 'Tis 
 not therefore sinful, or unbecoming a wise 
 and virtuous man, to allow himself some in- 
 nocent pleasures." — Aquinas even accounts 
 it a sin to refrain from diversion : — " Be- 
 cause whatever is contrary to reason is vi* 
 cious ; now it is contrary to reason that a 
 man should be so unsociable and hard up- 
 on others as to oppose their innocent plea- 
 sures, never to bear a part in their diver- 
 sions, or contribute to them by his words 
 or actions. Therefore Seneca very justly 
 and reasonably says; — ' Let your conversa- 
 tion be so tempered with prudence and dis- 
 cretion, that none may charge you with 
 being sullen, or despise you as one unfit 
 for social conversation : for it is a vice to 
 quarrel with all mankind, and thus to be 
 imputed a morose and savage creature." 
 
 It is easy to determine, that the Father 
 comprehends the stage under the general 
 
112 
 
 term of recreations, by his recommending 
 agreeable words and actions for the relaxa- 
 tion of the mind. — This is the peculiar pro- 
 vince of plays, being composed of wit and 
 action, such as produce delight, and recre- 
 ate the mind. I do not think you will find 
 in any other diversion words and actions 
 thus combined together. 
 
 But let us attend once more to this great 
 scholar, " It seems (says he) as if these 
 players who spend their whole lives on the 
 stage, did transgress the bounds of innocent 
 diversion. If then excessive diversions be 
 a sin (as indubitably it is) the players are in 
 a state of sin ; and so likewise are all those 
 who assist at stage representations, and 
 they who give any thing to them are abet- 
 tors of their sin. — Yet this appears false, 
 for we read in the lives of the fathers, that 
 one day it was revealed to St. Paphnutius, 
 that in the other life he should not arrive to 
 
113 
 
 a higher degree of glory than a certain 
 player," 
 
 If this objection, started by St. Thomas, 
 appears too strong, his answer is at once 
 satisfactory, delicate, and solid. " Diver- 
 sion (adds the Doctor) being necessary for 
 the comfort of human life, we may appoint 
 several employments for this end which are 
 lawful. Thus the employment of players 
 being established to afford men an honest 
 recreation, has nothing in it, in my mind, 
 which deserves to be prohibited ; and I do 
 not look upon them to be in a state of sin, 
 provided they make use of this sort of re- 
 creation with moderation; neither speaking 
 nor acting any thing which is unlawful ; 
 mixing nothing that is sacred with pro- 
 fane ; and never acting in a prohibited 
 time. And though they may have no other 
 employment of life, like other men, yet be- 
 tween them and their God, they have often 
 
114 
 
 very serious employments — such as when 
 they pray to their maker, govern their pas- 
 sions, and give alms to the poor. — From 
 hence I conclude, that those who in mode- 
 ration pay or assist them, are guilty of no 
 sin, but do an act of justice, since they on- 
 ly give them the reward of their labour. 
 But if any one should squander his whole 
 estate upon them, or countenance players 
 who act after a scandalous and unlawful 
 way, I make no question but that he sins 
 and gives them encouragement to sin ; and 
 'tis in this sense St. Augustin's words are to 
 be taken when he says, That to give ones 
 estate away to players, is rather a vice than 
 a virtue" 
 
 To prove that it is only the excess 
 which ought to be condemned in all sports 
 ano diversions, and that the holy fathers 
 had no other design in declaiming against 
 plays, St. Thomas describes what he means 
 
115 
 
 by excess, and lays it down as an indispen- 
 sinle maxim, that every thing should be re- 
 gulated according to reason, and whatever 
 transgresses this rule, is to be reckoned su- 
 perfluous, and that which does not come 
 up to it, defective: " Now," continues he 
 " diverting words and actions may be regu- 
 lated according to reason : — The excess 
 therefore in them is, when they do not 
 agree to this rule, or are defective by the 
 circumstances which ought to be applied 
 to them." 
 
 It is upon this system that we ought to 
 return an answer to the authorities of the 
 fathers of the church, since, according to 
 St. Thomas, they declaim only against the 
 excess in plays, and we shall offer nothing 
 from ourselves on this subject, but what 
 shall be in imitation of this great Doctor 
 who replying to one, intends it as an answer 
 
116 
 
 to a ll, which is the case when he comments 
 upon the observations of St. Chrysostom. 
 
 That eloquent father had said, that it was 
 not Cod who was the author of sports, but 
 the Devil ; and the more to back what he 
 had advanced, produced this passage out 
 of holy writ; The people sat down to eat 
 and drink, and rose up to play. But St, 
 Thomas is for having these words of the 
 great Chrysostom to be understood of ex- 
 cessive and immoderate sports, and he adds, 
 that excess in play is a foolish pleasure, 
 stiled by St. Gregory, the daughter of glut- 
 tony and sin; and that in this sense it is 
 written that the people sat down to eat and 
 drink, and rose up to play.*— This is the 
 
 * I tremble at my temerity in presuming to give an 
 opinion upon a text in so learned and venerable a 
 company ; but we frequently look for happiness in 
 the clouds, when it is beneath our feet — and plain un- 
 lettered sense, may sometimes discover what the re- 
 
117 
 
 answer which we are to make to whatever 
 may be objected against us out of the fa- 
 thers ; and the rather, because inexamining 
 them without prejudice it is easy to per- 
 ceive that if they did declaim so much 
 against the drama, it was only because in 
 their times its expressions were crimi- 
 nal and immoderate ; whereas had they 
 seen it as it is now a-days in France, con- 
 formable to goodness and right reason, they 
 would not have inveighed against it. — But 
 plays as they were acted in the time of our 
 forefathers, were so abominable and infa- 
 
 finementof the schools will envelope with mystery. — 
 It strikes me, that the real interpretation of the text 
 is a reproach to gluttony, which they sit down to en- 
 joy — i. e. prolong it so as to make it the business of 
 their lives — and when they rise, it is merely to trifle. 
 Our revered Shakspeare has expressed himself upon 
 another subject nearly in the same manner. " You 
 rise to play, and go to bed to work. v 
 
 R. M. 
 
118 
 
 mous, that those pious men could not but 
 employ their greatest zeal against a thing 
 which was so very offensive to the church. 
 For it is not the excess of plays, for instance, 
 against which Tertullian cries out !* — '"Let 
 us not," says he, "go to the theatre, which 
 is a particular scene of immodesty and de- 
 bauchery, where nothing is liked but what 
 is disapproved elsewhere ; and what is 
 thought most excellent, is commonly what 
 is infamous and lewd. A player, for in- 
 stance, acts there with the most shameful 
 and naked gestures ; women, forgetting the 
 modesty of their sex, dare do that on the 
 stage, and in the view of all the world, 
 which others would blush to commit at 
 home, where nobody could see them. — 
 There the most disgusting scenes are re- 
 presented by the infamous victims of 'pub- 
 lic debauchery, most wretchedly and shame- 
 
 * Vide introductory letter, page 59 — 75. 
 
119 
 
 fully exposed to the view of such women 
 as are supposed to be ignorant of such li- 
 centiousness. — They are there made the 
 „ subject of the young men's mirth ; there 
 you are directed to the place where they 
 reside; there they will tell you how much 
 they get by their infamous trade, and there, 
 in a word, those prostitutes are commend- 
 ed, in the presence of those who ought to 
 be ignorant of all those things. I say no- 
 thing (adds this father) of what ought to be 
 buried in eternal silence, for fear that by 
 barely mentioning such horrid actions I 
 should in some measure be guilty of them.*" 
 
 * Let us hope (for the honour of human nature) that 
 the zeal and the peculiar circumstances of the holy 
 fathers imperceptibly led them to exaggerate the im- 
 proprieties of the ancient stage. Prurient it certain- 
 ly was, and reprehensible to a lamentable extent ; 
 yet 1 am inclined to think the discription given by the 
 ecclesiastics, over-charged. — Tertullian, in the above 
 invective, talking of the Roman youth being directed 
 
120 
 
 But the other fathers are not so reserved 
 as he, and make no scruple to discover all 
 they know about it. You must not ima- 
 gine that I am ambitious of quoting all they 
 have said : Those matters which are so 
 freely described in another language, might 
 prove offensive in ours , therefore I will only 
 leave you to guess what enormities they 
 have mentioned, by some of those lesser 
 infamies of which I dare give an account 
 out of their writings. 
 
 to the residence of the Cyprian fair, and being made 
 acquainted with the profits of infamy, evidently 
 alludes to Terence, who has generally employed 
 a courtezan, as one of his agents for carrying on 
 the plot. 
 
 Yet however deficient Terence may be in want of 
 moral in his pieces, (the common failing of the ancient 
 drama) the most fastidious critic could not condemn 
 him to the full extent of the father's exclamation. 
 
 R. M. 
 
121 
 
 Salvian was afraid to say any thing about 
 it : — « Who," says he, " can treat of those 
 shameful representations, those dishonest 
 speeches, and of those lascivious and im- 
 modest actions, the enormity and offence 
 of which are discoverable by that restraint 
 which they in their own nature impose up- 
 on us not to rehearse them ?" 
 
 Lactantius is not so reserved ;his most 
 favourable thoughts about it are these : — 
 " To what end do those impudent actions 
 of the players tend, but to debauch the 
 youth of the age ? Their effeminate bo- 
 dies in women's dresses, represent the most 
 lacivious gestures of the most dissolute." 
 And a little lower he says, "from the li- 
 centiousness of speech, they proceed to 
 that of action, &c. &c.*" Pray be you 
 
 * Vide introductory letter, page 63. Also, origin of 
 the stage, ibid, page 36. 
 
12* 
 
 judge whether all this can be acceptable to 
 modesty? 
 
 St. Cyprian, who, ex proffesso, composed 
 a book of public shows, describes at large 
 all the infamous practices there. We may 
 also read something of that abominable 
 custom of their appearing naked on the thea- 
 tres in St. Chrysostom, St. Jerom, and St. 
 Augustin. The first of these does not scruple 
 comparing those of his time who went to plays 
 to David, who took pleasure in seeing Bath- 
 sheba naked in her bath, and saying that the 
 theatre is a rendezvous of all manner of 
 debaucheries, that 'tis full of impudence, 
 abomination and impiety. A more mo- 
 dern writer (Alexander ab Alexander J des- 
 cribing the shows of the ancients, and es- 
 pecially their Bacchanalia, gives us such 
 horrible pictures of their public infamies 
 and prostitutions, that I should tremble to 
 repeat them. You may imagine, Sir, there 
 could be nothing good in them, since the 
 
123 
 
 infamous Heliogabalus was the author of 
 some of them. But lest you should sup- 
 pose that plays were much the same as they 
 are now, and that it was only to dissuade 
 the faithful from frequenting the sta^e,that 
 the fathers represented it in such frightful 
 colours ; let us consult profane authors. 
 Valerious Maxijnus, speaking of the detes- 
 table custom which the Romans had of ex- 
 posing upon the theatres the naked bodies 
 of debauched women, and the naked bo- 
 dies of young boys, relates of M. P. Cato, 
 that he being one day at those sights, and 
 understanding, by his favorite Favonius, 
 that out of respect which they bore to him, 
 the people were ashamed to desire the play- 
 ers should appear naked on the theatre ; 
 this great man withdrew, that he might not 
 by his presence hinder that which was 
 so customary.* Seneca gives us the same 
 
 * This refers entirely to all sorts of Ludi Scenici, 
 the Mimi, Pantomimi and Achimimi y but reflects no 
 
124 
 
 account of Cato, and commends him for his 
 being unwilling to see these debauched wo- 
 men naked. I dare not repeat to you the 
 words of Lampridius, because they are too 
 gross, when he says that the Emperor, He- 
 liogabalus, who in a play represented Venus, 
 shewed himself in a complete state of nu- 
 dity, with the most impudent intrepidity of 
 assurance. We also find that the public 
 shows of the ancients were as dreadfully 
 impious as they were immoral. " There," 
 says St. Chrysostom, " they blaspheme the 
 name of God, and no sooner have the play- 
 ers vented a blasphemous expression, but 
 a loud applause follows. This is what 
 obliged the third council of Carthage, by a 
 canon, to condemn players as blasphemers : 
 let not the Laicks themselves be present at 
 
 more discredit upon the Histriones, than the hu- 
 mours of punch, or the buffoonry of a clown to a 
 horse ring-, militate against the refined wit of polished 
 comedy. R. M. 
 
125 
 
 the shows, for it has been always unlawful 
 for any christain to go into the company of 
 blasphemers."* 
 
 Now who would not cry down the stage, 
 if it were so full of immorality and pro- 
 faneness ? There is no need of being one 
 of the fathers, the light of nature is suffi- 
 cient to condemn so great an excess. Thus 
 we read in St. Chrysostom, " That certain 
 Barbarians having heard of those theatral 
 plays, expressed themselves in those terms 
 worthy of the greatest philosophers. — " It 
 is fit that the Romans, when they invented 
 
 * This corroborates what I have stated in my "Free 
 Thoughts," that the early instructors in Chris- 
 tianity used to frequent the theatre. Why should Chry- 
 sostom say, let not the Laicks themselves, &c. if 
 it did not imply that in his time the clergy had de- 
 viated from their Fathers, and abandoned the dra- 
 matic amusement. See in " Free Thoughts" the 
 account of St. Paul at Ephesus. 
 
 R. M. 
 
126 
 
 this kind of pleasure, should be looked up- 
 on as persons who had neither wives nor 
 children." And Alcibiades, among other 
 things, is commended for having cast acer- 
 tain comedian, named Eupolis, into the 
 sea, for being so impudent as to repeat some 
 infamous verses in his presence ;* adding 
 at ins punishment this expression. " Thou 
 hast plunged me often into the debauche- 
 ries of the stage, and for once I will plunge 
 thee into the depths of the sea." 
 
 You may easily perceive, Sir, that all 
 those passages out of the fathers, and a 
 thousand others which I could produce out 
 
 * Had Alcibiades existed in our days, and possess- 
 ing- all his admirable propensities ; no comedian of 
 repute would honour him with a reading". It is pro- 
 bable some wretch worthless as himself — only what 
 the General wanted in virtue, be made up by power. 
 — So much for the pupil of Socrates* 
 
 R. M. 
 
127 
 
 of them against the stage plays, prove no- 
 thing against the drama as it now stands in 
 France. It would be superfluous to make 
 a comparison between the one and the 
 other : I desire that you would only take 
 notice that far from weakening the doctrine 
 of St. Thomas, all that has been hitherto 
 alledged serves only to strengthen it ; for it 
 is only against the excess of the stage that 
 the fathers appeared so zealous, whereas if 
 they had found it divested of those unhap- 
 py circumstances which then attended it, 
 they would have been of St. Thomas's opin- 
 ion, and at least have looked upon it as 
 indifferent. 
 
 I thought proper to relate all this to you 
 before I ventured my own thoughts upon 
 the subject ; and upon those indisputable 
 principles which I have laid down, I af- 
 firm, that in my judgment, plays, in their 
 own nature and taken in themselves, inde- 
 
128 
 
 pendent from any other circumstance, whe- 
 ther good or bad, ought to be reckoned 
 among the number of things purely indif- 
 ferent. Upon due examination you wiil 
 find it to be the opinion even of Tertullian 
 and St. Cyprian, the two who seem to de- 
 claim most against the drama. 
 
 To begin with Tertullian, at the same 
 time that he abominates the infamy of pub- 
 lic shows he starts this objection to himself : 
 — " God has made all things, and given 
 them to men, and consequently they are 
 all good, such as the circus, lions, voices, 
 &c. What then makes them unlawful?" 
 To this he answers, " That it is true all 
 things were instituted by God, but that 
 they were corrupted by the evil spirit : 
 that iron for instance, is as much God\s 
 creature as plants and angels : that not- 
 withstanding this, God did not make these 
 creatures to be instruments of murder, 
 
129 
 
 poison, and magtc, though men by their 
 wickedness deprave them to those uses; 
 and that what renders a great many things 
 evil, which in their own nature are indiffer- 
 ent, is not their institution but corruption." 
 — From hence, if we apply this way of ar- 
 guing to public shows, it follows, that con- 
 sidered in their own nature, they are 
 as harmless as angels, plants, and iron ; 
 but that it is the evil spirit that has chang- 
 ed, perverted, and spoiled them. You see 
 then that Tertullian has reckoned stage- 
 plays among ind ift erent actions, and what he 
 condemns in them is only the excess. 
 
 St. Cyprian speaking of David's dancing 
 before the Ark, owns that there is no harm 
 in dancing or singing; " but yet," says he, 
 "this is no excuse for christians who are 
 present at those lascivious dances and im- 
 pure songs, which are in honour of idols." 
 K 
 
130 
 
 Whence it is easy for us to infer, that this 
 holy doctor, does not absolutely condemn 
 dancing, singing, operas and comedies, 
 but only those shows that represent fables 
 after the lascivious manner of the Greeks 
 and Romans, and which were celebrated in 
 honour of idols. This is likewise St. Bo- 
 naventure's opinion, who says expressly, 
 " That shows are good and lawful, if they 
 are attended with necessary precautions and 
 circumstances." His master, the great Al- 
 bertus, taught him this doctrine : and the 
 words which I met with upon this subject 
 in St. Antonius, Archbishop of Florence, 
 are so pertinent that I cannot forbear insert- 
 ing them here. "The profession of a co- 
 median, because it is useful for the diver- 
 sion of men, which is requisite, is not for- 
 bidden in its own nature : from whence it 
 follows, that it is no less lawful to get one's 
 livelihood by this art, &c." And in another 
 place he says, " Comedy is a mixture of 
 
131 
 
 pleasant speeches and actions, for the di- 
 version of a man's self, or for that of ano- 
 ther. If nothing is mixed in it either un- 
 becoming or an affront to God, or prejudi- 
 cial to one's neighbour, it is an effect of that 
 virtue which is called Eutrape/ia ; for the 
 mind which is fatigued by internal cares, 
 as the body is by external labour, has as 
 much need of repose as the body has of 
 nourishment. This repose is procured by 
 those kind of diverting speeches and actions 
 which are called plays." Can any thing, 
 Sir, be said of greater weight in favour of 
 comedy ? Yet he who says it, is a man of 
 undoubted sanctity. How comes it to pass 
 that he does not declaim against it, as the 
 ancients did ? It is because the drama 
 grows more correct and perfect every day ; 
 and I have observed, in reading the holy fa- 
 thers, that the nearer they come to our times, 
 the more favourable they are to plays, be- 
 cause the stage was not so licentious as be- 
 
132 
 
 fore* Thus likewise we see, that it is not 
 prohibited by the saint of our times, the 
 great Francis de Sales, who might, without 
 dispute, serve as a pattern to all directors. 
 — And Fontana de Ferrara, in his " Insti- 
 tutes," relates that the pious saint, Charles 
 BorromeuSy allowed plays in his diocess by 
 an order in the year 15S3, yet upon condi- 
 tion that before they were acted they should 
 be revised and licenced by his grand Vicar, 
 for fear any thing which is immodest should 
 be in them. This pious and learned car- 
 dinal did then allow of modest comedies, 
 and condemned only the immodest and 
 profane, as appears by the third council 
 which he held at Milan, in the year 1572. 
 
 * I wish our modern correctors would be at the 
 trouble of consulting all the fathers / — but I presume 
 they stop at the very period when the others become 
 liberal. R. M. 
 
133 
 
 Independent of this multitude of testi- 
 monies, which are ill my favour, I might 
 likewise form a strong proof taken from 
 the words and practice of the holy Fathers 
 in general, and observe that those who have 
 cried out so loudly against the stage, have 
 been as violent in declaiming against play- 
 ing at cards, dice, &c. They have inveigh- 
 ed against banquets and feasts, against lux- 
 ury and gaudy dresses, lofty buildings, 
 magnificent houses, rich furniture, rare 
 paintings, &,c. &c* St. Chrysostom has 
 
 * The plausible declamations of some of the evan- 
 gelical party, against the expense of a theatrical esta- 
 blishment, are truly ridiculous. Some will exclaim 
 against the money appropriated to that use, affirming 
 that it would be better applied if granted to a chari- 
 table institution. Others dwell upon the absurdity of 
 gratifying imaginary pleasures, when real enjoyment 
 could be so well purchased by furnishing Bibles and 
 Missionaries for our modern crusades. Yet I have 
 known several of those liberal, considerate gentle- 
 
134 
 
 whole homilies upon this subject : we find 
 a particular catalogue of them in the Peda- 
 gogue of St. Clement Alexandrinus. St. 
 Augustin treats very largely of them in 
 most of his works, and particularly in his 
 letter to Possidonius. St. Cyprian quoted 
 both by St. Augustin, and St. Gregory, — in 
 short all the fathers have warmly declaim- 
 ed against the luxury and richness of ap- 
 parel; sometimes exciting us to follow 
 
 men, contentedly enjoying from five hundred to two 
 thousand a year. And what is very extraordinary, 
 not one of them seemed to think his income more than 
 sufficient for his own immediate wants. I believe it 
 to be a rare instance, their refusing another living, or 
 an estate, upon the plea that the one they possessed 
 was more than sufficient to satisfy the real demands 
 of nature. 
 
 Let all the rich shake off the superflux of wealth, 
 for the relief of the mendicant, and who would not be 
 a beggar ? R. M. 
 
135 
 
 the example of St. John the Baptist, who, 
 for the austerity of his life was so highly 
 commended by our Saviour. And yet we 
 find that they did not raise so many doubts 
 of conscience in men's minds upon this 
 score, as they did upon the account of stage- 
 players; and none made a scruple either 
 of wearing habits suitable to their quality, 
 nor of living at ease, provided they did it 
 within the compass of modesty and mo- 
 deration. Why then should we not extend 
 this indulgence to the drama, and affirm, 
 that the reproaches of the doctors of the 
 church are applicable to luxury, intempe- 
 rance and prodigality, but not to the inno- 
 cent and moderate use of the good things 
 of this life. So we may interpret their 
 words of immoral and profane plays, but 
 not of those that do not transgress the rules 
 of prudence and morality. 
 
 " To prove," says Albertus Magnus, " that 
 
136 
 
 the scripture does not condemn plays, 
 dancing and shows, considered singly, and 
 without those offensive circumstances which 
 make them condemnable, do not we read 
 in Exodus, That Miriam the prophetess, the 
 sister of Aaron took a timbrel in her hand, 
 and all the women went out after her with 
 timbrels and with dancing f Ex. 15, 20. 
 Does not the Royal Prophet (Psal. 68, -25 — 
 27) say That Benjamin was amonq the dam- 
 sel who played with timbrels? ^ay, 
 
 does not God himself, by the mouth of Je- 
 remiah, Chap. 31, v. 4, promise the Jews, 
 that upon their return from Chaldee, they 
 should play upon timbrels, and go forth in 
 the dances of them that make merry ?* 
 
 * To these instances might have been added, the 
 parable of " The Prodigal Son." And they began 
 to be merry. Now his elder son was in the fields, 
 and as he came and drew nigh to the house* he heard 
 music and dancing. Luke 15. v. 24 — 25. 
 
137 
 
 Therefore dances and pleasures are not in 
 themselves sinful, or unlawful, but made 
 so by the criminal circumstances added to 
 them : and I would not enjoin a penitent 
 to abstain from them, since God himself 
 not only permits, but promises them." 
 And indeed, take away the excess which 
 may possibly creep into dramatic repre- 
 sentations, and I know no harm in them : 
 for it is a kind of speaking picture, where- 
 in are represented histories or fables, for 
 the diversion, and very often for the in- 
 struction of men. 
 
 Hitherto we find nothing amiss in the 
 design of the stage ; but perhaps its ene- 
 mies will object, that it must needs be bad 
 however, because it is prohibited. I pro- 
 
 This little drama, delivered by our blessed Saviour, 
 evidently proves he did not object to mirth and music. 
 
 R. M. 
 
138 
 
 test, Sir, T never yet thought the prohibi- 
 tion of any thing made it sinful, but on the 
 contrary, the viciousness of it made it to 
 be prohibited. But let us consult those 
 places of scripture which seem to forbid 
 plays, and such like exhibitions, and try to 
 explain them, not as we please, but by the 
 words of the greatest Doctors. 
 
 Albertus Magnus, who has collected all 
 those passages, shall give us the explana- 
 tion of them. The first which he mentions 
 is that of St. Paul, who seems to reduce all 
 those sports to immodesty ; for the Apostle, 
 exhorting men to avoid that sin, expresses 
 himself thus, I. Cor. 10. as some of them fell 
 into impurity, of whom it is written, The 
 people sat down to eat and drink and rose 
 up to play* 
 
 The second is taken out of Exodusj 
 
 * Vide p. 116. f Vide p. 105. 
 
139 
 
 Chap. 32, where we find that dances were 
 first invented before idols ; and by this they 
 prove that it is an idolatrous institution, to 
 excite men to impurity. The third is that 
 of Isaiah, Chap. 3. who in the name of 
 God denounces great threatenings against 
 those kind of sports: Because the daugh- 
 ters of Zion are haughty, and walk forth wUh 
 stretched forth necks and wanton eyes, walking 
 and tripping as they go and making a tinkling 
 with their feet ; therefore the Lord will smite 
 with a scab the crown of the head of the 
 daughters of Zion, fyc. And lastly it is pre- 
 tended that St. Paul includes all public 
 sights in those famous words, (I. The^s. 5, 
 22,) Abstain from all appearance of evil. 
 But Albertus Magnus, to all those passa- 
 ges, thus replies. " That dancing, &c. 
 though not in their own nature evil, may 
 become so by being attended with those 
 unhappy circumstances which St. Paul is 
 to be understood to speak of. — That it is 
 
140 
 
 false to assert that the Jews never danced 
 but before idols. It has been done upon 
 other occasions ; witness Miriam the sister 
 of Moses and Aaron, whom we formerly 
 mentioned. God reproves by the mouth of 
 his prophet, only those impudent gestures 
 with which the dances of the Jews were 
 sometimes attended. x\nd lastly, That St. 
 Paul forbids the appearance of real evil, 
 and not of that which may become so by 
 accident and untoward circumstances." 
 
 But you will say, if plays are good in 
 themselves, why are the actors of them no- 
 ted with infamy in Justinian s " Insti- 
 tutes?" Pray let me ask you a question 
 or two. — Does that soldier sin who runs 
 away in battle for fear of being killed ? or 
 does a young widow, who cannot live sin- 
 gle, commit a mortal sin by marrying a sec* 
 ond husband before her year is up ? Yet the 
 same book brands both of them with infamy, 
 
141 
 
 and a thousand other persons whose actions 
 are not criminal. It is therefore a very- 
 weak consequence to prove the sinfulness 
 of an action because it is noted as infamous. 
 Suppose it true that the players become 
 infamous by acting on the stage, I would 
 fain know why the youth of the universi- 
 ties, and other persons, very prudent, and 
 sometimes of the best quality, who, for their 
 own diversion, and without scandal, act 
 parts in a play, are not as infamous as the 
 common players ?* I hope none will say, 
 
 * We must bear in remembrance that Father Caf- 
 faro lived and wrote in France, where the profession 
 of an actor was considered so offensive, as even to de* 
 prive him of the rites of christian burial. Under our 
 happy government and tollerant ecclesiastical esta- 
 blishment, we know no such absurd, degrading-, invi- 
 dious distinctions. — If indeed a certain sect was para- 
 mount, the players would then be persecuted while 
 living, and when dead, their "monuments would be 
 the maws of Kites. 1 ' R. M. 
 
142 
 
 it is because the latter act to get by it, 
 whereas the others do it for diversion, for 
 this is a very wretched argument. 
 
 Suppose any action to be evil in itself, 
 what signifies whether a man gets by it or 
 not ? It will still be evil, and no circum- 
 stance can alter its nature. — For as a per- 
 jured man, or a calumniator, branded with 
 infamy by the law, will be always infamous, 
 let them be in what circumstances soever, 
 so plays cannot be represented upon any 
 occasion or motive whatever, without in- 
 curring the stain of infamy which you say 
 is cast upon it. But to understand the 
 meaning of the laws, it is requisite to have re- 
 course to those Doctors who have expound- 
 ed them. Pray see what the famous Baldus 
 says on this subject, " The players who 
 act in a modest way, either to divert them- 
 selves or please others, and who commit 
 nothing against good manners, are not to 
 
143 
 
 be reputed infamous." You perceive then, 
 according to this commentator, that the in- 
 famy falls only on those who act infamous 
 plays. 
 
 Since time changes every thing, rational 
 men will judge the subject as it is, not as it 
 was. Were not the physicians turned out 
 of Rome as infamous persons ?* And in 
 the esteem they are now held, is there the 
 least mark of their infamy left; Why then 
 should any reflection remain to stigmatize 
 a laudable and ingenious profession, which 
 in Frauce (and perhaps elsewhere) is be- 
 come rather the school of virtue than that 
 of vice? The reason why players former- 
 ly were declared infamous, was from the 
 infamy so predominant in the plays which 
 they acted, and the infamy which they 
 themselves added to it by their dissolute 
 
 * Vide " Free Thoughts." 
 
144 
 
 lives. And now, since that cause is re- 
 moved, its consequences indubitably should 
 be abolished. If any consequences are to 
 be drawn from this happy change, it is, that 
 plays being altogether unblameable, those 
 who act them, provided they live honestly, 
 should not be reckoned among the number 
 of dishonourable persons. This is so far 
 true, that the being a player does not de- 
 grade any man's quality. Floridor, who 
 is 6aid to have been the greatest player 
 France ever had, being a gentleman by birth, 
 was not judged unworthy of that title upon 
 account of his profession. When inquiry 
 was made about the false noblesse, he was 
 admitted by the king and council to make 
 out the truth of his, which by right of inhe- 
 ritance, descended to his posterity. Those 
 of the Opera, if born gentlemen, are not 
 (by the institutes granted to that musical 
 academy) to lose their quality. Now, are 
 there prerogatives for the one which are not 
 
145 
 
 to he allowed to the other? And if there 
 be any distinction between them, have not 
 all ages determined it in favour of comedy, 
 since by the consent of all nations, poetry 
 is the elder sister of music ? 
 
 You say, several Doctors (or at least such 
 as pretend to be so) have shewn you certain 
 rituals which forbid the confessors to ad- 
 minister the sacrameuts to players, which 
 they confirm by the authority of several 
 councils. To this I answer, that those ri- 
 tuals, and the canons of those councils, only 
 mean it of such players who act scandalous 
 pieces, or who act themselves immodestly. 
 But let those people tell you what difference 
 they make between stage-plays and other 
 kind of sports ; for as to the rituals, the 
 canons, the councils, &c. they make none, 
 but equally prohibit them all. Yet your 
 Doctors, who talk so loudly of the fathers 
 
 and the councils, do not scrupulously fol- 
 JL 
 
146 
 
 low their decisions against gaming and 
 other sports. We find that abbots, priests, 
 bishops and ecclesiastics make no difficulty 
 of playing, and pretend that all the censures 
 of the Fathers ought to be understood of the 
 excess in sports, and not of those which 
 are moderate, and used without much ap- 
 plication, to pass away a little time. Why 
 then should not the same thing be urged, 
 and the same indulgence allowed in behalf 
 of plays, since we find such a dispensation 
 with respect to other sports ? Besides should 
 you ask the bishops and prelates what they 
 think of plays, they would declare, that 
 when they are modest, and have nothing in 
 them which wounds morality and Christi- 
 anity, they do not pretend to censure them. 
 And even if they were silent in the case, 
 one may guess at their opinion by their con- 
 duct, since in those very diocesses where 
 those severe rituals are used, plays are acted, 
 tolerated, and perhaps approved. If they 
 
147 
 
 are bad, why are they tolerated ? As they 
 are acted at Paris, I see no fault in them* 
 It is true, I cannot pass a definitive judg- 
 ment upon them, since I never go to see 
 them ; but there are three very easy modes 
 of knowing what is done at the theatres; 
 and I acknowledge that I have made use of 
 all three. The first is, to inform one's self 
 of it by men of sense and probity, who, 
 out of that horror they have to sin, would 
 not allow themselves to be present at those 
 exhibitions, if sinful. The next is, to judge 
 by the confessions of those who go thither 
 of the evil effects which plays produce upon 
 their minds. The third is, the reading of 
 the plays : — And I protest, by these ways I 
 have not been able to discover the least ap- 
 pearance of the excess which the Fathers 
 with so much justice condemned in plays* 
 Numerous persons of eminent virtue, and 
 of a very nice, not to say scrupulous con- 
 science, have been forced to own to me, 
 
148 
 
 that the plays on the French theatre are at 
 present so pure, that there is nothing in 
 them which can offend the chastest ear." 
 
 Every day at court, the bishops, cardinals* 
 and nuncios of the pope make no scruple 
 to be present at them ; and it wculd be no 
 less impudence than folly, to conclude that 
 all those great prelates are profane liber- 
 tines, since they authorise the crime by their 
 presence. It is rather a proof that the plays 
 are so pure and regular, that none need be 
 ashamed or afraid to see them. I have 
 likewise sometimes made a reflection ( which 
 to me seems of some weight) on seeing the 
 bills posted up at the corners of the streets, 
 announcing plays acted by the King's au- 
 thority, and by his Majesty's servants. I 
 naturally conceived, if they invited people 
 to some bad action, or to infamous places, 
 &c. the magistrates would be so far from 
 allowing the publication of those bills, as to 
 
149 
 
 punish severely those who had the temerity 
 to abuse the King's authority, hy inviting 
 his subjects to the commission of such 
 enormities. From which I draw the con- 
 clusion, that plays are not vicious, since the 
 magistrates do not put them down, nor the 
 prelates make any opposition to them ; and 
 they are acted by the privilege of a reli- 
 gious prince, who would not by his presence 
 authorise a crime, of which he would be 
 more guilty than others. 
 
 As to confessions,* I could never by their 
 
 * The confessions of " The Methodists" not being 
 auricular, but publicly delivered at their band-meet- 
 ings and love- feasts, they have a fairer opportunity of 
 exposing this destructive influence attributed to the 
 stage. — Yet I have never met, in the whole course of 
 my methodistical reading, any instance of the ruin of 
 the soul being laid to the charge of the theatre only, 
 but merely as an adjunct in the vain pomps and glo- 
 ries of the world. 
 
150 
 
 means find out this pretended mischief of 
 plays; for if it were the source of so 
 many crimes, it would from thence follow 
 that the rich, who frequent the theatres,wou Id 
 be the greatest sinners: — and yet we find 
 that the poor who never saw a play, are as 
 guilty as the rich of anger, revenge, unclean- 
 ness, and pride. I would therefore rather 
 conclude, and that with some reason too, 
 that those sins are the effects of human weak- 
 ness or malice, which take an occasion of 
 sinning from all manner of objects indif- 
 ferently. 
 
 As to the reading of the plays which are 
 
 The " Methodist Magazine" will furnish us with 
 many proofs that the love of the drama is one of the 
 most difficult things to eradicate from the minds of se- 
 veral of their new proselytes. — And I have often sigh- 
 ed, when I hare viewed in imagination, the last expi- 
 ring spark of genius, ahsorbed in the chilling gloom 
 of contracted ignorance. R. JJrL 
 
151 
 
 now acted in France, I never could find, 
 in those I have perused, an) thing which 
 couid in the most distant manner offend 
 chi istianity or good-manners. The great- 
 est fault that could be found with them is, 
 that most of the subjects are taken out of 
 fables; and yet what harm is there in that? 
 " They are such fables out of which may be 
 taken very tine instructions of morality, 
 capable of inspiring men with a love of 
 vi rtue, and a detestation of vice." These are 
 the words of a very great man ( Peter, 
 Bishop of Blois) who maintains, " that it is 
 lawful to extract truths out of heathea 
 fabies, and that it is no more than receiving 
 arms from our very enemies." 
 
 To leave nothing unresolved, let us ex- 
 amine the precautions which the doctors 
 give us, in goinp to a play. As to the law- 
 fulness of the Drama, St. Thomas, St 
 Bona venture, St. Antonine, and above all 
 
152 
 
 Albertus Magnus has said, that in all sports 
 we should take care of three things. The 
 first is, that we should not seek for pleasure 
 in immodest words or actions, as they did 
 in the times of the ancients, an unhappy 
 custom which Cicero laments in these 
 words: "There is a kind of jesting which 
 is sordid, insolent, wicked and obscene." 
 •The second thing we are to take care of, 
 says Albertus, is, that when we would re- 
 fresh our spirits, we should not entirely lose 
 the gravity of the soul, which gives St. Am- 
 brose occasion to say, " Let us beware, lest 
 in giving our spirits some relaxation, we 
 lose the harmony of our souls, where the 
 virtues form an agreeable concert." And 
 the third condition required in our sports, 
 as well as in all the other actions of our 
 lives, is, that they be suitable to the person, 
 time, and place, and regulated by all the 
 other circumstances which may render 
 them inoffensive. It would be easy for me 
 
153 
 
 to prove that none of these qualifications 
 are wanting to the plays, as they are in 
 France ; from whence you ought to con-» 
 elude, that they are good and allowable. 
 
 After all I have said for plays, you can- 
 not question but they should be such as 
 are free from all immodest speeches and 
 actions. You have told me yourself, that* 
 the players are very careful in this point, 
 and that they would not so much as suffer, 
 when they accept of any piece, that it 
 should have any thing in it indecent, licen- 
 tious, equivocal, or the least word under 
 which any poison might be concealed. 
 
 We have very severe laws in France a- 
 gainst blasphemers ; they are bored through 
 the tongue ; they are condemned even to be 
 burned ; — and should we caress the players, 
 or give them any privilege, if they were 
 blasphemers, libertines, or profligates? 
 
154 
 
 " We own," say our Reformers, " that 
 they dare not openiy speak any thing 
 that is profane, nor act upon the stage 
 those infamies which were formerly acted 
 there; but there is still something remain- 
 ing of its primitive corruption, disguised 
 under gay names. Is there any play acted 
 now, where there is not some love-intrigue 
 or other? Where the passions are not re- 
 presented in all their light? Where men- 
 tion is not made of ambition, jealousy, 
 revenge and hatred ? — A dangerous school 
 for youth, where they are easily disposed 
 to raise real passions in their hearts, by see- 
 ing feigned ones represented! The first 
 
 duty of a christian is to suppress his pas- 
 sions, and not to expose himself to the 
 growth of them : and by a necessary con- 
 sequence, nothing is more pernicious than 
 that which is capable of exciting them." 
 
 A fine speech this for a rigid declaimer, 
 
155 
 
 but not sound enough for an equitable di- 
 vine! Is there no difference, think vou, 
 between an action or a word which may 
 by accident raise the passions, and those 
 which do it in reality ? 
 
 The last are absolutely unlawful and sin- 
 ful, and though it might happen that a man 
 might be unmoved by them ; yet we are 
 obliged to avoid them, because it is only 
 by chance that they produce not their ef- 
 fect, whereas in their own nature they are 
 always attended with pernicious conse- 
 quences. But for those words and actions 
 which may by accident raise the passions, 
 we cannot justly condemn them, and we 
 must even fly to deserts to avoid them, for 
 we cannot walk a step, read a book, enter 
 a church, or live in the world, without 
 meeting with a thousand things capable of 
 exciting the passions. Must a woman be- 
 cause she is handsome never go to church, 
 
150 
 
 for fear of exciting the desires of the debau- 
 chee? Must the great in courts, and the 
 magistrates lay aside that splendour which 
 is becoming, and perhaps necessary to 
 them, for fear of exciting ambition and a 
 desire of riches in others? Must a man 
 never wear a sword for fear of being guilty 
 of murder? This would be ridiculous! 
 Under those circumstances, if by misfor- 
 tune a scandal happens, and an occasion of 
 sin be taken, it is a passive, not an active 
 scandal, — pardon those school terms. — It 
 is an occasion taken, not given, which kind 
 alone we are ordered to avoid, for as to the 
 first it is impossible to avoid it, and some- 
 times to foresee it. 
 
 All histories (not excepting the 
 bible) make use of such words as express 
 the passions, and relate great actions, of 
 which they have been the cause. And 
 will it be a crime to read history, because 
 
157 
 
 we may there meet with something which 
 may be an occasion of our falling? — By no 
 means, unless it be a scandalous, profane, 
 and loose history, such a one as will infal- 
 libly stir up dangerous passions, and then 
 it is no longer an occasiou taken but given. 
 But this is not the character of our plays, 
 for though they speak of love, hatred, am- 
 bition and revenge, it is not done with an 
 intention of exciting those passions in the 
 audience,* nor are there any such scanda- 
 
 * Here is another proof that the stage adversaries 
 have never shifted their ground ; they still proceed in 
 the same monotonous mode of attack ; they will now 
 imperiously demand — " is there a leading* hero in a 
 play which any u christian should consider as a model 
 to be observed, or an example to be followed ?" Ridi- 
 culous! Othello, Hamlet, Macbeth, Rictiard, Lear, 
 and Romeo are not intended by the poet as examples 
 to follow , but beacons to warn against jealousy, 
 melancholy, revenge, ambition, cruelty, cunning, 
 paternal injustice, and filial disobedience. — The 
 heroes are all punished for their various derelictions 
 
158 
 
 lous circumstances in them, as will infalli- 
 bly produce such mischievous effects in 
 their minds. Besides as the wise Lycurgus 
 said, " Shall we destroy all the vines, be- 
 cause some men get drunk with the juice of 
 the grape ?" An ill use has and may be 
 made of the most sacred things, such as the 
 holy scriptures, and consequently of the 
 most indifferent and least serious: yet 
 neither the one nor the other ought to be 
 
 from virtue— but not one becomes an object for imi- 
 tation. We may even sympathise with Othello, weep 
 with Hamlet, admire the martial firmness of Macbeth, 
 the courage and address of Richard; lament the 
 madness of Lear, and regret the fate of Romeo, with- 
 out a wish to imitate any one of the characters. "We 
 find the dramatist expressly telling us the fatal conse- 
 quences attendant upon jealousy, ambition, cruelty, 
 revenge, injustice, and even love itself, if carried be- 
 yond the bounds of duty. To prevent any possibility 
 of mistaking his moral, he punishes them all with 
 death. Now none but a madman would imitate a 
 character under such a severe penalty. R. M. 
 
159 
 
 forbidden, unless we would forbid every 
 thing that may be put to an ill use. 
 
 As to the second qualification which our 
 casuists require in sports, which is to avoid 
 breaking the harmony of the soul by the 
 excess and length of our pleasures; it may 
 be said that neither those who compose 
 them, nor those who act them, so far un- 
 bend their minds as to destroy that just dis- 
 position of soul. As for the first, they 
 have liberty to go or stay away; and after 
 a davs labour, two hours of refreshment 
 mav be allowed. As for the authors 
 and plavers, whose profession seems to be 
 one continued diversion, they do not cer- 
 tainly look upon their lives to be a play, 
 since they have other serious business, in 
 providing for and supporting their families, 
 besides the common duties of christians 
 to perform. 
 
160 
 
 As for the circumstance of time, of 
 which our casuists would have us take care, 
 it is observed in France, where the) never 
 act but at proper hours. One of the things 
 against which the Fathers declaimed the 
 most, was the time of acting the plays; 
 they lasted the whole day, and people had 
 scarce any time to go to church. Thus St. 
 Chrvsostom complains: "That the chris- 
 tians in his time, and in his diocess,did not 
 only go to plays, but were so intent upon 
 them that they staid whole days at those 
 infamous sights, without going one moment 
 to church." St. John, of Damascus, con- 
 demned the same excess in these words, 
 " There are several towns where the inhabi- 
 tants are from morning to night feasting 
 their eyes with all manner of sights, and in 
 hearing always immodest son^s, which can- 
 noi chuse but raise in their minds wicked 
 desires. 
 
161 
 
 - Is there any thing like this to he found in 
 our plays ? They begin at five or six o'clock 
 when divine service is over, the prayers and 
 sermon ended; when the church doors are 
 shut, and people have had time enough to 
 bestow on business and devotion, — and they 
 end about eight or nine. As for the cir- 
 cumstance of places, it is observed in 
 France; — formerly they acted in churches, 
 but now they have public theatres for the 
 purpose. 
 
 The circumstance of the persons is also 
 observed, for those who act are civil people, 
 who have undertaken the employ, and gen- 
 erally behave themselves in it with decen- 
 cy ; at least there are as few ill men among 
 them as in other professions: their vices 
 arise from their own corrupt nature, and not 
 from the state or calling they are in, since 
 all men are like them. I have conversed, 
 
 and am particularly acquainted with some of 
 
 M 
 
162 
 
 them, 7vho, out of the theatre, and in their own 
 families, live the most exemplary life in the 
 world* You have told me yourself, that 
 all of them in general, out of their common 
 stock, contribute a considerable sum to 
 pious and charitable uses, of which the ma- 
 gistrates and superiors of the convents could 
 give sufficient testimony. I question wheth- 
 
 * How Doctors differ ! a Doctor Witherspoon in a 
 etter upon Play-Actors, says — "For my own part, I 
 would no more hold communion with a master of the 
 Circus than a manager of the Theatre. And I should 
 be sorry to be thought to have any intimacy with 
 either the one or the other." — But the sagacious Doc- 
 tor has contrived to bring in Lord Chesterfield, as a 
 party joining in the condemnation of Opera performers 
 and musicians ! — How ? — or why ? — Because he tells 
 his son " that to be always fiddling and playing, is not 
 consistent with the character of a gentleman. 
 
 O Whitherspoon ! Whitherspoon ! sapient Wither- 
 spoon ! living or dead, Hail to thee, Witherspoon ! ! 
 
163 
 
 er we can say as much of those zealous 
 persons who inveigh so loudly against them. 
 
 I am conscious, Sir, that some people 
 will blame me for having followed the most 
 favourable opinion concerning plays, for it 
 is now the fashion to teach an austere doc- 
 trine, and not to practice it ; but I assure you 
 I have been solely governed by truth, wish- 
 ing still to observe that Father's rule who 
 directs us to form our actions by the most 
 severe opinions, and our doctrine by the most 
 indulgent. 
 
 I am 
 Sir, 
 
 Yours, &c. 
 
FREE THOUGHTS 
 
 UPON 
 
 METHODISTS, ACTORS, AND THE INFLU- 
 ENCE OF THE STAGE. 
 
 .ADVERTISEMENT. 
 
 I must openly and candidly inform my readers, that 
 they will occasionally find in the subsequent pages ex- 
 pressions which policy cannot warrant, nor prudence 
 Justify. But u I am whipped and scourged with rods, 
 nettled and stung with pismires, when I think of the 
 many provocations we have received from some cer- 
 tain tolerated intolerants." 
 
 Several of my friends, who honoured my manuscript 
 with a perusal, suggested to me the impropriety of 
 approaching, if not entering, the province of abuse, 
 at the very moment I am condemning my opponents 
 for their frequent excursions to the same disgraceful 
 resource*. I daringly mention this to show, that if I 
 
 * Vide Introductory Letter, page 31. 
 
165 
 
 am erring", it is wilfully, and I shall probably add to 
 the offence, by not only avowing my knowledge of it, 
 but by openly justifying the measure. The arrears of 
 two centuries*, form a long unsettled account, which 
 I much regret some of my predecessors did not ba- 
 lance at former periods, and thus have added another 
 instance in favour of the good old adage, " that short 
 reckoning makes long friends." However, since the 
 office of accountant-general, has fallen to my lot, it is 
 my wish to re-pay our accusers and abusers, part- 
 ly in their own coin. I confess myself incompetent to 
 the task of making up the whole sum, but whatever 
 deficiency there may be found on this score, I trust will 
 be more than compensated for, by an overplus of rea- 
 son, candor, and justice. 
 
 1 have been conscientious in striking the balance, 
 and, I believe every item advanced in my statement to 
 be strictly correct. 
 
 In this wordy war, let it be clearly understood, that 
 1 do not consider myself as the aggressor, on the con- 
 trary, my profession is daily — hourly annoyed by an 
 enemy armed like wild Indians, with poisoned darts, 
 
 * Vide Introductory Letter, page 31. 
 
166 
 
 tomahawks, and ktmes!* — What weapon can I wield 
 against such adversaries? The sharpened instruments 
 of wit, satire, and ridicule, have been frequently ex- 
 ercised in vain against the desultory attacks of these 
 demi maniacs* The weapons must have been ill di- 
 rected, they must have been pointed at their heads or 
 their hearts, the former of which is impenetrable, and 
 the latter invulnerable. However, could 1 even guide 
 them with more effect, such polished arms I cannot 
 boast ; a good homely cudgel is the most respectable 
 epithet lean venture to bestow upon 4% Free Thoughts," 
 but I trust it will be found of sufficient powers to turn 
 the edge of their "kimes," ere they can totally destroy 
 its action. 
 
 * Vide Edinburgh Review, April, 1809, page 46. 
 
FREE THOUGHTS, &c. 
 
 IT is a matter of astonishment in this age 
 of novelty-hunting, when we have been in- 
 formed that virtues are vices, and have 
 pursued vices as if they were virtues :— 
 when emancipation, reform, freedom and 
 equality are the watch-words of the day.— 
 It is somewhat extraordinary no one has 
 started for the honour of elevating 1 he 
 stage to its proper level, and disencumber- 
 ing the professors from the fetters forged for 
 them in the dark days of ignorance and su- 
 perstition. 
 
 The Pagan African found advocates a- 
 mongst all ranks, all persuasions; even in 
 the most rigid of our sectaries, who mau- 
 
168 
 
 gre selfishness, apathy, contempt of fine 
 feelings, and detestation of poetical embel- 
 lishments, extended their sympathy ovei! 
 the bosom of the Atlantic, exaggerated the 
 sufferings of their client, by fancifully de- 
 corating the unenlightened savage with re- 
 fined sensations, delicacy of feeling, and 
 mental aggravations, such as the highest 
 polish of society alone can give. Yet 
 those very people would ridicule the idea 
 of a sensitive mind, in their own country, 
 lacerated and writhing under the scourge of 
 pride, exercised by the hand of prejudice. 
 
 If they were to draw a comparison be- 
 tween the sable slave and the itinerant 
 player, it would be considerably to the dis- 
 advantage of the latter ; for they would 
 coolly calculate upon manual labour on 
 the one side, and (what they would deem) 
 trifling pursuits on the other. 
 
169 
 
 When I say no one has endeavoured to 
 raise the stage to its just elevation, I do 
 not mean to assert that it is without its sup- 
 porters, or champions. No— I have no 
 doubt that their numbers would equal that 
 of its assailants: — but L must add, they too 
 servilely follow the steps of each other. 
 Echo follows echo, in dull monotonous 
 line. — Opinions of councils and senates ; 
 fathers of the church and heathen philoso- 
 phers, are all set forth in battle array, one 
 against the other, authority against authori- 
 ty, and the suffrages of the dead are called 
 for, to decide a question essential only to the 
 living. The stage accusers bray forth the 
 evil tendency of " The Beggars Opera," the 
 idle story of Doctor Faustus, and a hundred 
 other groundless absurdities. The stage 
 defender hurls back the powerful conver- 
 sion worked by the tragedy of George 
 Barnwell; the discovery of a murder by 
 
170 
 
 the acting of apiece called "Friar Fran- 
 cis/' and many other puerilities. 
 
 The only difference I have been able to 
 perceive between the two parties, is this 
 
 -That bigotry generally sides with the 
 
 enemies to the stage ; consequently there 
 is there a greater degree of ignorance, a 
 larger portion of absurdity, and joined 
 with an ardent, rancorous zeal to effect 
 the object. Its supporters, being mostly 
 men of a liberal turn of mind, enter upon 
 the subject calmly, armed with no otoer 
 weapons than antiquated authorities, and 
 not wielding them with a proportioned en- 
 thusiasm to the malignants, their defence 
 seems at best but lukewarm. Neither par- 
 ty is disposed to quit the old, worn-out 
 system of warfare, and by more ex- 
 tensive excursions, arrive at victory or 
 defeat! — Few seem to have thought for 
 themselves upon the subject, but all appear 
 
171 
 
 cramped, and enveloped in the opinions of 
 others. Let none imagine that I have the 
 presumption to think myself equal to the 
 task of emancipating my brethren from the 
 ill effects of a prejudice of which we have 
 all so much cause to complain ; or, that I 
 have the temerity to start for the honour of 
 being their champion — NT o— -but fifteen 
 years of experience and bitter reflection on 
 the thoughtless cruelty of society, have 
 compelled me to obtrude myself upon the 
 public, with the hopes of stimulating 
 genius and philanthropy to second my en- 
 deavours, by supporting, fostering, vindi- 
 cating aud encouraging a liberal, though 
 injured profession. 
 
 The profession which produced and 
 nourished the genius of a Shakspeare! — 
 Shall it be attacked by ignorance, illiherali- 
 ty, and calumny, and be in want of shields, 
 to ward off the poisonous, misdirected 
 
172 
 
 shafts of such contemptible adversaries? 
 The profession which has been adorned by 
 the aid of the immortal Shakspeare, the 
 divine Milton, the christian Addison, the 
 pious Young, and the moral Johnson !— 
 Shall it be overpowered by retired monks, 
 enthusiastic visionaries, unlettered bigots, 
 and brainless sectaries? — Oh no! — Depress 
 it they may! — Destroy it! — Impotent at- 
 tempt! — The viper and the file, snow balls 
 against adamant, phosphoric lights to ex- 
 tinguish the meridian sun beam, can alone 
 typify the absurdity! — I have no apprehen- 
 sion about its extinction, I would only 
 deprecate the unmerited censure heaped 
 upon those, who embrace its pursuits. To 
 expose the fallacy of that censure, I lay 
 myself open to the sneer of unfeeling igno- 
 rance, the contemptuous smile of cold- 
 hearted apathy, the base attacks of malev- 
 oleuce in its worst shape. All this, I 
 shrink not from; but, when I take into 
 
173 
 
 the account, the ordeal of criticism. — T own 
 myself a coward — I suspect my powers — 
 and am more than half inclined to resign 
 the daring bold attempt. However, as I have 
 not taken up my pen with the ridiculous 
 vanity of anticipatingeither fame or profit,* 
 ias I am prompted hy a heart- felt conviction 
 of being an injured party; and as I am well 
 satisfied with the rectitude of my intentions, 
 shall I desist because my style may want 
 
 * The late learned soi-desant prophet Huntingdon 
 says — "God enabled me to put out several little books, 
 which were almost universally exclaimed against 
 both by preachers and professors, and by these means 
 God sent them into all winds, so that I soon rubbed off 
 one hundred, and soon after another, so that in a short 
 time I had reduced my thousand pounds (debt) down 
 to seven hundred."— Alas ! I know my little book will 
 be exclaimed against by preachers and professors ! 
 Would I could flatter either my creditors or myself 
 with the idea, that it would be sent into all winds, 
 or any wind, or raise the wind at all. 
 
174 
 
 grace, my language polish, or my composi- 
 tion elegance ? Truth, integrity, and 
 honour shall be their substitutes. With 
 these, for my support, and the patient in- 
 dulgence of the liberal for my protection, 
 I shall venture to proceed, having first pre- 
 mised, that it is for a well regulated stage, I 
 would wish to be considered the pleader. 
 
 In reply to those, who so triumphantly 
 produce, and sound forth the wisdom of 
 some ancient authors, who have written 
 against the use of the stage; their mode of 
 attack appears at once so puerile, disin- 
 genuous, and unjust, that they are scarcely 
 deserving of notice; they prove nothing 
 but a lamentable dearth of genius in them- 
 selves, by continually doleing out meagre 
 opinions of centuries, long since past. I 
 am not satisfied with accusing them of dull- 
 ness only ; they are to be charged with a 
 want of literary integrity, for they frequent- 
 
175 
 
 ly give their extracts from the page of 
 antiquity, mutilated, vamped, or tortured 
 to answer their own particular purpose. I 
 couceive all those authorities inadmissible 
 at the present period. The opinions quo- 
 ted were delivered according to the then 
 existing circumstances, such as the state of 
 the stage, the complexion of the times, the 
 peculiar manner of thinking in the writers, 
 and intended as a corrective to the then 
 existing improprieties, or more properly 
 speaking, enormities of the thing condemn- 
 ed. But I never understood the frail opin- 
 ion of man, upon a speculative point, was 
 to be considered as definitive, universal, 
 and eternal. The Greeks and Romans had 
 many odious abominahle customs; such 
 as, I presume none would have the temerity 
 to defend. Their gladiators and wild beasts, 
 their inculcation and support of suicide, 
 their insatiate love of conquest, tyranny, 
 and dominion ! Nay, even vices, which mo- 
 
176 
 
 desty and decency will scarcely permit me 
 to hint at Yet all those things were open- 
 ly practised and supported. But why re- 
 tain with such tenacity one only of their 
 prejudices, and reject all the rest?* Admit 
 
 * By the way, this will apply in one instance to 
 « the Fathers" who have expressed as strong an aver- 
 sion to singing- and dancing as they have to the use of 
 the drama. Yet I know several of the serious who 
 will go to an assembly, and even to the Opera House 
 and have their children instructed in dancing and 
 music, and yet remain determinedly hostile to the 
 existence of a theatre. But, indeed, Methodism, in 
 every shape, is so contradictory, that there is no mode 
 of denning it. We have even music masters and 
 dancing masters Methodists ! Organists of churches 
 Methodists ! How they can reconcile these seeming 
 opposites is a secret beyond my comprehension. 
 
 But that these pie bald sectaries may not imagine 
 the stage the only thing that has come within the 
 scope of ecclesiastical resentment, I will furnish them 
 with an extract from "An essay on the history of 
 
177 
 
 they had no objection to the existence of the 
 drama,which, however is very far from being 
 
 dancing," published in the year 1712. The author 
 gives it as a quotation from the history of " The Wal- 
 densis and Albigenses, part 3. — book 2. — c. ix. p. 63. 
 11 A dance is the devil's procession and he that en- 
 tereth into a dance, entereth into his possession. 
 The devil is the guide, the middle and end of the dance. 
 As many paces as a man maketh in dancing, so many 
 paces doth he make to Hell. A man sinneth in dan- 
 cing divers ways ; as in his pace, his touch, &c. &c." 
 " For the devil hath not only one sword in the dance, 
 but as many as there are beautiful and well-adorned 
 persons in the dance. For the words of a woman are 
 a glittering sword. And therefore that place is much 
 to be feared wherein the enemy hath so many swords, 
 since that one only sword of his may be feared. Again, 
 the devil in this place strikes with a sharpened sword ; 
 for the women come not willingly to the dance, if they 
 be not painted and adorned; the which painting and 
 ornament is as a grindstone, upon which the devil 
 sharpeneth his sword. They that deck and adorn 
 their daughters, are like those who put dry wood to 
 the fire, to the end it may burn the better." " Dancing 
 
 is the pomp of the devil, and he that danceth main- 
 N 
 
178 
 
 the real fact ; yet,allow it, still this was not the 
 only profession they attacked. Physic and 
 oratory have occasionally participated in 
 their censure, and become the objects of 
 their antipathy. Pliny informs us, that the 
 science of physic was so repugnant to the 
 general sense of mankind, that there was 
 scarcely a kingdom of any consequence in 
 the world, but rejected it with the greatest 
 aversion. 
 
 Hippocrates, one of those exalted genius's 
 
 taineth his pomp, and singeth his mass. For the wo- 
 man that singeth in the dance, is the prioress of the 
 devil, and those that answer are clerks, and the be- 
 holders, are the parishioners, and the music are the 
 bells, and the fidlers the ministers of the devil." 
 History of Dancing, page 47. 
 
 There are as many ancient authorities, and opin- 
 ions of Fathers, against the use of dancing and sing- 
 ing, (hymns excepted)as there are against represent 
 ihg or witnessing the performance of a play. 
 
179 
 
 formed to conquer difficulties, and dissipate 
 prejudices, was fortunate enough, after 
 many struggles, to make the establishment 
 of this noble science palatable. He redu- 
 ced it from its own experience to rules, he 
 composed tables, and they were suspended 
 in the Ephesian temple of Diana. Its 
 success terminated a very short period after 
 his decease. Notwithstanding his having 
 left a number of disciples, and the probable 
 benefit derived from their practice, all 
 could not deter the Athenian Senate from 
 forbid ing the study of physic, and banish- 
 ing the professors out of Greece. 
 
 About two centuries after this event, 
 Chrysippus was an eminent physician with 
 the Argians, by publishing opinions in op- 
 position to the rules of Hippocrates, he gave 
 rise to a violent wordy war, which like many 
 modem literary battles, terminated in ani- 
 mosity, perpetual contention, and invincible 
 
180 
 
 hatred. The Grecian legislature interfer- 
 ed and suppressed the profession, with the 
 declaration, " that honour and life ought 
 never to become matter of dispute." One 
 hundred years elapsed when the art of 
 healing was graced with another ornament 
 in the person of Aristrato, a nephew to 
 Aristotle. As far as royal favour could 
 extend, he seems to stand pre-eminently 
 distinguished, having received as a fee from 
 Antiochus the first, a Prince's daughter, a 
 thousand talents in silver, and a cup of 
 gold! Still, the prejudice against the 
 science was unextinguished, the skill of 
 Aristrato did not support it beyond the 
 lives of the few disciples he left ; again, it 
 was to feel a temporary depression, and the 
 Senate once more forbade the reading and 
 practice of physic. The next was Erperices, 
 who gave the Sicilians a transient glimpse 
 of the art ; and some short period after him, 
 we hear of Herophilus being an eminent 
 
181 
 
 physician in Rhodes. A few years after 
 his decease, this exalted science, as if dis- 
 gusted with the ingratitude and obstinacy 
 of men, withdrew its cheering influence 
 for the long extended space of full eight 
 hundred years!!! During this incredibly 
 lengthened period, the practice of a phy- 
 sician was interdicted through the whole 
 of Europe and Asia ! ! ! 
 
 Asclepiades, under Providence, revived 
 the art in the Island of Lesbos. Not to 
 trace it through all its heavy depressions, 
 and transient elevations, I will only give a 
 few instances more, and dismiss the subject. 
 — Antonius Musa, a Grecian physician, 
 practising in Rome, in the days of the second 
 Caesar, will furnish us with at once a strik- 
 ing proof of the state of medicine at that 
 period, and the ignorance and cruelty of 
 this great nation, so often called upon to 
 instruct us poor barbarians? Antonius 
 
182 
 
 had the good fortune of receiving the hon- 
 our of a statue, for performing a cure upon 
 Augustus, and he had the noble return of 
 being stoned to death, for exercising one of 
 the most essential and useful branches of 
 surgery — amputation ! ! ! Not content with 
 this enlightened punishment, for having 
 performed a laudable act, they came to a 
 resolution (in the Senate) never to admit 
 physicians again in Rome, which determi- 
 nation was kept inviolable, until the return 
 of Nero, from Greece, " when," says Pliny, 
 "he brought physicians and vices enough 
 with him." Titus banished both orators 
 and physicians, and gave as an excuse for 
 his conduct) the whimsical reason, that 
 the one were destroyers of good customs, 
 and others enemies of health ! Adding, " I 
 banish physicians to prevent vice, for it is 
 well known where they reside, for the most 
 part the people are very wicked." Cato 
 
183 
 
 Uticensis, in one of his letters from Greece 
 to his son Marcellus, says, " Physic is like 
 to prove most dangerous to our common- 
 wealth ; for the people here have long since 
 resolved to murder those by potion they 
 cannot conquer by arms. I every day ob- 
 serve these doctors quarrelling among them- 
 selves, not how they shall cure, but how 
 they shall kill their patients ; but I enjoin 
 you, son Marcellus, immediately to advice 
 the senate of the arrival of the phy- 
 sicians lately sent from hence, that they 
 may not be suffered to read or practice 
 their pernicious mysteries among you." 
 Is there a being in existence absurd enough 
 to apply any of these semi-barbarian opi- 
 nions to the present state of oratory and 
 physic? — Or are these the judges who are 
 to direct, with an imperious fiat, our im- 
 proved, and far more refined intellectual 
 taste ? — Away with them to the sacred 
 
184 
 
 shades of silence and retirement*! — Like 
 the books of enchantment in the land of 
 romance, they are applied to by the learned 
 -wizard only to raise phantoms, create mis- 
 chief, and scatter confusion! Not that I 
 dread encountering the decisions of the 
 authorities quoted against the moral ex- 
 ercise of a theatre. I could even bring in 
 opposition to them some of the most ex- 
 alted of the ancient writers, giving their 
 unqualified sanction and support to the use 
 of a stage! How nobly and how forcibly 
 is the utility and dignity of the profession 
 
 * Let it not be understood, that I apply this to the 
 works of the great masters. — No — these in spite 
 of modern vandalism, must triumph over time, and 
 be objects of applause and veneration, until human 
 intellect be totally subdued. It is only the contro- 
 versial subjects I would wish placed in a quiescent 
 state, for the silent admiration of the studious and the 
 curious. 
 
185 
 
 evinced by a circumstance recorded as 
 having taken place during the triumvirate 
 of Pompey, Crassus, and Ccesar. An his- 
 torical fact, graced by the notice of Lord 
 Chesterfield, in his celebrated speech upon 
 the players' bill. The deductions he 
 draws from it are so much to our present 
 purpose, that (to adorn my cause) I will 
 give the whole quotation in his lordship's 
 words. " During the triumvirate of Pom- 
 pey, Crassus, and Ccesar, — Diphilus, an ac- 
 tor, revived one of the oldest plays in the 
 Latin tongue, in which there happened to 
 he the following line, Nostns, miseris 
 magnus es / The whole audience imme- 
 diately applied this to Pompey, (as well 
 known by the name of Magnus as that of 
 Pompey) and made the performer repeat it 
 a hundred times! — What did Pompey ? 
 Did he resent the satire, or the people's 
 applause ? — No, his conduct was wise and 
 prudent ; he reflected justly within himself. 
 
1«<5 
 
 that some actions he had been guilty of 
 had made him unpopular ; from that hour 
 he began to alter his measures, he gained 
 by degrees the people's esteem, grew popu- 
 lar again, and then neither feared their 
 wit, nor felt their satire. My Lords, the 
 stage, preserved and kept up to its true pur- 
 pose, should, no doubt, only represent such 
 incidents in the actions and characters of 
 men, as may tend to the discouragement of 
 vice, and the promoting of virtue and good 
 life ; nor does it vary from its institution 
 when it helps us to judge of the vices and 
 follies of the times. And though the Ro- 
 mans, at the period I have mentioned, 
 were declining in their liberty, yet it is 
 plain they had not then lost the use of it; 
 but when the stage is under power and con- 
 trol, such instances are not to be met with." 
 This fact weighs down a hundred theoretic 
 opinions.' — Here is proof positive of a re- 
 formation produced in the conduct of one 
 
187 
 
 upon whom depended the fate of thousands, 
 if not millions! I could bring a cloud 
 of ancient documents equally as strong. — 
 I do not wish it — I contemn the subter- 
 fuge of removing the question to such re- 
 mote grounds. The Romans could no 
 more lay down rules for us, than we can, 
 at the present moment, dictate laws for the 
 people who may inhabit the banks of the 
 Tyber, two thousand years to come. Hu- 
 man measures, wearing the stamp of wis- 
 dom some centuries past, would, very 
 probably, now present the effigy of folly. 
 
 With all due deference to the Fathers in 
 council, or out of council, I must and will 
 question their decisions on the subject. — 
 They could not judge of what they did not 
 know. Whatever existed of a theatre in their 
 times, was immersed in barbarism, indecen- 
 cy, vulgarity, and impiety! 
 
188 
 
 Could the extinction of a profession, even 
 in that state, have compensated for the loss 
 of a Shakspeare, and, very probably, a Mil- 
 ton? An idle question! Few of the oppo- 
 nents Of a WELL REGULATED STAGE have 
 
 taste,feeiingsusceptibility,orgeniusenough, 
 to relish the genuine beauties of either of 
 those divine bards. 
 
 The stage objectors deal precisely in the 
 same manner with the ecclesiastics, they do 
 with the ancient schoolmen ; it is the con- 
 demnations published against the stage, 
 they alone avail themselves of, rejecting 
 every other opinion which the Fathers held 
 equally irrefragable. They punished all 
 those who presumed to maintain an opinion 
 of the existence of the antipodes, or that the 
 earth had any other form than that of a 
 plane! Now every school boy knows we 
 have antipodes, and that our planet is orbi- 
 cular. The Copernican system was anathe- 
 
189 
 
 matised, and its supporters excommunica- 
 ted. At present, the Copernician system is 
 fully established; and the excommunica- 
 tions sleep with the Fathers. Why their rest 
 should be disturbed upon the present sub- 
 ject, must ever excite in me wonder and 
 regret. 
 
 There is an ancient book in existence 
 to whose opinions 1 bend with profound 
 reverence. From whose source we ail af- 
 fect to derive instruction, wisdom, consola- 
 tion, comfort and support. Had THAT BOOK 
 presented any thing in opposition to my side 
 of the question, I should not have had the 
 temerity to proceed thus far. But in vain 
 have officious zealots endeavoured to tor- 
 ture different texts to their purpose ; not 
 
 ONE SOLITARY SENTENCE IS tO be found 
 
 condemning the use of the stage! One 
 of the most indefatigable labourers, in the 
 vineyards of the gospel, whose elegance of 
 
190 
 
 style can only be excelled by the value of his 
 precepts, has borrowed a sentence in one of 
 his epistles to the Corinthians, from the 
 Greek dramatist Menander. " Evil com- 
 munications corrupt good manners." An 
 apothegm consistent with the purity of the 
 moral school, it was delivered in, and worthy 
 the enlightened apostles pen to promulgate! 
 
 That the saint was conversant with the 
 Grecian poets we have from himself, * that 
 he was familiarly acquainted with the cus- 
 toms and manners of the Greeks, his travels 
 and his writings will prove to us ; nor is it 
 any great stretch of probability to suppose 
 him a frequenter of the Attic theatre, and 
 an auditor at the play he has honoured by 
 his quotation. To corroborate this suppo- 
 
 * For in him we live, and move, and have our 
 being ; ascertain also of your own poets have said — for 
 we are also his offspring". Act6 c. xvii. v. 28r 
 
191 
 
 aition, I will transcribe a passage from " the 
 History of the Bible," published in London, 
 1699, giving an account of the commotion 
 raised against Paul, at Ephesus, by the sil- 
 versmith, and others concerned in the man- 
 ufactory of idols.* The rabble forced two 
 of his companions into the theatre. My 
 history adds, " Paul would have presented 
 himself to the people, but is withheld by 
 certain priests of Asia, who having em- 
 braced the faith, retained yet the names 
 of chief of Asia, and presided in the public 
 
 * And the whole city was filled with confusion, and 
 naving caught Gaius and Aristarchus, men of Mace- 
 donia, Paul's companions in travel, they rushed with 
 one accord into the theatre. 
 
 And certain of the chief of Asia, Which were his 
 friends, sent unto him, desiring him that he would not 
 adrenttrre himself into the theatre. 
 
 Acts c. xix. v. 29 — 31. 
 
192 
 
 games, when they could do it with a safe 
 conscience"* 
 
 I dare say the ingenuity of the M bible- 
 mongeks" will enable them to torture this 
 plain paragraph to their own purpose, and 
 they will find a saving clause in a safe con- 
 science! J draw from it a conclusion, 
 
 that our very earliest christians frequented 
 theatres ! This may be objected to, as not 
 coining within the facts recorded in the Bi- 
 hle itself, but only the history , still it is 
 from an abridgement of the lives of the 
 apostles, collected from the holy fathers and 
 other ancient ecclesiastical writers ? We find, 
 at any rate, from the scriptural text, that 
 Paul would have entered the theatre, had 
 not the dissuasions of his friends and the 
 magistrates who were apprehensive for his 
 
 * The same history says, Paul remained in Ephesus 
 three years after this tumult. 
 
393 
 
 safety, prevented him. His intention was, 
 indubitably, boldly to preach his doctrine to 
 his enemies, and avail himself of the oppor- 
 tunity of numbers to disseminate his prin- 
 ciples : nor would the magnificence of the 
 structure in which his oration would have 
 been delivered, nor the purpose for which 
 the building was erected, have destroyed the 
 irresistible force of his reasoning, nor injur- 
 ed the elegant brevity, simplicity and per- 
 spicuity of his style. Here we find the use 
 of a theatre recorded in holy writ, and not 
 a single passage of condemnation against 
 it! In our times places for scenic repre- 
 sentation are burnt to the ground, and mo- 
 dern saints exult with joy over the ruins of 
 the " profane temples." St. Paul was on 
 the point of being (perhaps) murdered in 
 one, but he never breathes an exclamation 
 against the institution, or its principles ! 
 These proofs are, in my opinion, more than 
 
 sufficient to overwhelm all the arguments 
 O 
 
194 
 
 presented by all the cavillers, opposers and 
 objectors to a theatre that ever existed. 
 What, I would ask, are the fables, the apo- 
 logues, and the parables of the ancients ?* 
 Are they not dramas? Do we not find in 
 them the different characters speaking and 
 acting according to their various disposi- 
 tions? Are they not made up of the virtu- 
 ous, the vicious, the cunning, the simple, 
 the miser, the spendthrift, the luxurious rich, 
 the abject poor ; in 6hort, all the degrees, 
 conditions, vices, virtues, passions, affec- 
 tions, feelings, incident to human nature? 
 They were delivered by owe speaker, certain- 
 ly, yet the formation, end, and design, are 
 the same, by an agreeable, innocent fiction, 
 to arrest the attention of the careless, and by 
 imperceptible degrees, guide his steps 
 towards wisdom and virtue. 
 
 * But without a parable spake he not unto them. 
 
 Mark c. ir. 34. 
 
195 
 
 Would the book of Job* become less valu- 
 able if the characters of the man of Uz, his 
 wife, Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar, were to 
 be recited by different speakers capable of 
 
 * Whether this extraordinary victim to misery, suf- 
 fering-, and punishment, was really an inhabitant of 
 this.earth, or only created out of the poet's imagination, 
 is a point still in suspense with the various commen- 
 tators on the Bible. Many of them consider the book 
 of Job, in the light of a drama; and from the supe- 
 rior excellence of the moral, consistency of the char- 
 acters, sublimity of thought, and simplicity of style, it 
 evinces strong evidences of emanating from the first 
 order of genius. Some of the interpreters and ex- 
 pounders of scripture, have, with a great degree of 
 seeming probability, attributed its composition to 
 Moses. Shrink ye not, fanatics, at the profanation — 
 what! — the sacred law — giver a dramatist ! — Be not 
 alarmed ; could we give you many such specimens of 
 sublimity and dignity — mole-eyed and beetle-headed 
 as ye are, the Drama must have commanded your ap- 
 probation and support, and perhaps been as much an 
 object of your idolatry as it is now of your hatred A 
 Ye know no medium. 
 
196 
 
 giving effect to the importance of their 
 several situations and dispositions? I feel 
 a conviction it would not: and even if you 
 could, by the auxiliary aid of music* and 
 painted canvas, induce the heedless and 
 thoughtless to ponder on the serious moral 
 of pious resignation to the dispensations 
 of providence, you would be doing society at 
 large a singular service. If the beverage 
 be wholesome, never hesitate tasting, be- 
 cause the cup is embossed. 
 
 I have not the most distant wish for the 
 stage to intrench upon the duties of the 
 pulpit; still further from my thoughts, be 
 every intention of disrespect to the clergy. 
 Nor would I presume to raise my profes- 
 
 * And they began to be merry. Now his elder son 
 was in the field, and as he came and drew nigh to the 
 house, he heard music and dancing. 
 
 Luke c. xv. v. 24, 25. 
 
107 
 
 sion at the expense of a body, whose sacred 
 function entitles it to the reverence and 
 esteem of all the virtuous ; — men, who by 
 the aid of the gospel, can give eyes to the 
 blind, feet to the lame, health to the sick, 
 wisdom to the ignorant, comfort to the 
 afflicted, and happiness to all : — the advo- 
 cates at the throne of mercy, the pleaders to 
 divine grace, for the frailties, errors, and 
 and imperfections of their wretched fellow- 
 creatures. But let the drama second the 
 efforts of the pulpit, and though an humble 
 assistant, it will be found capable of being 
 made an active and powerful ally in the 
 great cause of virtue. 
 
 Many blend the improprieties of the stage 
 with the thing itself, and, because there is 
 an exuberance, the whole must be extirpa- 
 ted. If the objection depended merely upon 
 the improprieties of the stage, with pleasure 
 would I give my feeble aid to the exposure 
 
198 
 
 of them, loudly would I raise my voice for 
 the extinction of them, and gladly would I 
 immolate at the shrine of offended decency, 
 every line repugnant to modesty, morality 
 and virtue. 
 
 The stage, if left to its own bias, must 
 ever fall in with the predominant taste of its 
 admirers ; but properly governed, it will 
 become a guide instead of a follower, and 
 act as a firm opposer to every improper 
 public feeling and sentiment. The drama 
 participates strongly in the genius it eman- 
 ates from, and is supported by — poesv. It 
 therefore loves with fervour, and hates with 
 energy. The tender husband, the affec- 
 tionate wife, the rational parent, the dutiful 
 child, the constant lover, the mild prince, 
 the loyal subject, the pious priest; in short, 
 the truely good, religious, moral, and vir- 
 tuous, are the object of its warmest attach- 
 ment; it decks them out in theirown native 
 
199 
 
 beauteous colou rs, sounds forth their praise, 
 and cherishes them as its most darling 
 favourites. But, woe! woe ! woe! to their 
 opposites ! 
 
 The jealous husband, the inconstant wife, 
 the cruel father, the abandoned son, the 
 perjured lover, the tyrannical prince, the 
 revolting subject, the hypocritical priest, 
 all become loathsome, and it punishes 
 them to the utmost extent of poetical ven- 
 geance. 
 
 It was with extreme regret I read Miss 
 Baillie's objection to fashionable comedy, 
 upon the plea of its encouraging disrespect 
 to parents, and weakening the ties of filial 
 obedience. She says, " The moral tenden- 
 cy of it is very faulty ; that mockery of a^e 
 and domestic authority, so constantly held 
 forth, has a very bad effect upon the young- 
 er part of an audience." — With all possible 
 
200 
 
 deference to Miss Baillie, T cannot but con- 
 sider this objection inadmissible. Foolish, 
 weak and wicked parents, are held up to 
 derision and contempt; and so are obsti- 
 nate, perverse and wilful children. They 
 are equally injurious to the well-being of 
 society, and therefore fair objects for satire. 
 Nor can I conceive the claims of the pa- 
 rents to exemption ; on the contrary, I 
 think they more richly merit exposure and 
 reprobation : for the follies and aberrations 
 of the children are, too frequently, the con- 
 sequence of the vices and weaknesses of 
 those beings, who expect reverence and 
 esteem in exchange for imbecility and vice. 
 Affection, respect and attention to virtuous 
 parents, can be no where more strongly 
 enforced than on the stage : in fact, it is 
 one of the most imperious ties implanted 
 in the human breast: it would be, therefore, 
 strange indeed, if the dramatic writers, of 
 
201 
 
 all others, would not avail themselves of a 
 principle capable of producing effect, in- 
 terest and sympathy. I scarcely remem- 
 ber a play where the filial and parental ties 
 (with the above exceptions) are not placed 
 in the most amiable point of view. If there 
 are harsh, tyranical, passionate, unreason- 
 able, selfish, cruel, parents in nature, why 
 should the mere honour of giving life to 
 their oppressed offspring, shelter them from 
 the indignation of the satirist, or protect 
 them from the punishment due to their 
 errors and absurdities ? Plays would indeed 
 be culpable, if they were to be swayed by 
 such incongruous partialities. 
 
 The respect for age, and the veneration 
 for parents, so strongly inculcated and elu- 
 cidated by numerous instances in the page 
 of history, did not originate in the mere 
 name of sire, or the appearance of silvered 
 
202 
 
 age ; but, from the wisdom, virtue, and 
 propriety of the seniors.* 
 
 * "If many boys are by the original energy of na- 
 ture, and the gracious discipline of providence, ena- 
 bled to outgrow the futile habits of their early years ; 
 no thanks to those wicked or foolish parents, who 
 did every thing to spoil them. Ah, ye mothers of Bri- 
 tain, what a mighty task is yours ! Of what super- 
 lative importance to the happiness of mankind ! How 
 much have those of you to answer for, whose fantastic 
 fondness has, from the very days in which you ought 
 to have laid the foundation of virtue and glory, entailed 
 corruption and dishonour on your offspring. How 
 different from the mothers of antiquity, who, having 
 bred their sons to every thing manly and heroic, 
 were accustomed when they went out to fight for their 
 country, — (that great predominating object to which 
 all others gave way in their affections,) — to charge 
 them either to come back victorious, or to be brought 
 back dead, chusing rather that they should not live 
 thanlive in shame." 
 
 Fordyce's Addresses to Young Men. 
 
203 
 
 That the stage has defects, loud, crying 
 defects, I am willing to acknowledge, but 
 they are only excrescences, they disgrace 
 the trunk, but they cannot vitiate it ! It 
 has sufficient strength to permit their eradi- 
 cation, and flourish with ten-fold vigour ! 
 But I trust it will be in my power to prove, 
 that even in its present state, it is not com- 
 posed of the deleterious qualities which 
 bigotry, fanaticism, and ignorance, would 
 endeavour to persuade us it is. 
 
 I deem a review of the lives of its prin- 
 cipal professors to be a fair and justifiable 
 mode of proving its tendency to morality, 
 or its inclination to impurity. If the stage 
 tends to corrupt and debase a nation, the 
 players must, of all people, be the most de- 
 praved and infamous! Probably you will 
 say, " That the agent merely administer- 
 ing poison, feels none of the effects." True 
 — but if he be obliged to swallow his share 
 
204 
 
 of the baneful dose, he must participate 
 in the fatal consequences. Let us com- 
 mence our review, at the period when our 
 stage was emerging from barbarism, when 
 it had shaken off the impieties of " the 
 mysteries" the absurdities of " the mora- 
 lities ;" when, like a summer's morn, pre- 
 paring for the glorious effulgence of the 
 sun, it dawned for the appearance of our 
 great theatrical luminary ! Still the theatre 
 (if it might so be called) was even then in 
 a most abject, a most degraded abasement. 
 Not a single dramatic piece, produced 
 previous to Shakspeare's plays, holds a 
 situation upon the present existing stage ; 
 they are only to be found in the libraries 
 of the curious*. All the inference to be 
 
 * One of the first regular comedies extant, in the 
 English language, " Gammer Ourton's Needle? was 
 written by a clegyman, Dr. Still, successively master 
 of St. John's and Trinity Colleges, Cambridge, and 
 afterwards Bishop of Bath and Wells. 
 
205 
 
 drawn from the depression of the stage, at 
 the period I have mentioned — is — that po- 
 verty and infamy compose a fruitful soil 
 for the nourishment of every vice ! To a 
 society, in this despicable state, the young, 
 the thoughtless Shakspeare, flew for shel- 
 ter. An outcast from his country, branded 
 with theft, and armed with graceless au- 
 dacity to ridicule the magistrate whom he 
 injured; thrown upon the world with- 
 out a friend or adviser ; from this 
 debased body he courted support!-— 
 To this sink he flew for refuge! What a 
 sanctuary for a being of his description ! — 
 What a seminary for the improvement of 
 his talents ! — With such an auxiliary, pos- 
 sessing such wonderful endowments, such 
 abandoned propensities, what were the 
 players not capable of effecting in the 
 cause of vice? Did they employ their 
 new ally, their powerful agent, in the sub- 
 version of virtue, the corruption of mo- 
 
206 
 
 rality, the degradation of religion? Let 
 applauding millions answer, an admiring 
 world reply ! — His future progress unble- 
 mished ! — His character unsullied ! — His 
 death a nation's loss ! — His life a nation's 
 pride! — His grave marked by malice, as 
 one of the few spots, where she can gain 
 no footing*! — His memory and his works 
 can only perish, when 
 
 " The cloud- capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, 
 " The solemn temples — the great globe itself— 
 " Yea all which it inherit shall dissolve, 
 " And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, 
 " Leave not a wreck behind! " 
 
 * A modern vandal has had the impudent assurance 
 to stigmatise him as a libertine ; and asks with un- 
 paralled effrontery. " What loss could society pos- 
 sibly have experienced, if the bard had never been 
 called into existence?" When I first read this 
 vamperof Collier — this furbisher up of old weapons 
 
207 
 
 Many of his dramatic contemporaries 
 have been handed down to posterity, mark- 
 ed with some pleasing trait, reflecting cre- 
 dit on their different characters. One of 
 his brother comedians and particular friends, 
 Alleyn, founded a college at Dulwich, for 
 the relief of a certain number of old per- 
 sons, where, to this day, age and poverty 
 return thanks to heaven for ease and com- 
 fort, through the benevolence of a profane 
 stage-player* . From the Shaksperian band, 
 
 from the armory of puritanical anti-stagers ; I felt 
 inclined to follow him through all his glaring absur- 
 dities, and, by exposing them, have left him to the 
 contempt he deserves ! But, upon mature reflec- 
 tion, I found it would only have been giving sub- 
 stance to a shadow, locality to nothing, consequence 
 to insignificance and fuel to the flame of vanity ! 
 
 * Dulwich is noted for its college, founded by Ed- 
 ward Alleyn, the actor, of whom Mr. Lyons gives the 
 following account : — Edward Alleyn was the son of 
 Edward Alleyn, of Wellwyn, in the county of Bucks ; 
 
208 
 
 pass on to the company having-possession 
 
 his mother was daughter of John Townley, Esq. of 
 Lancashire — he was born in 1566, in Allhallows, Lom- 
 bard-st. where, in Fuller's time, was the sign of the 
 Pye-Man, Devonshire House. Fuller says " he was 
 bred a stage player ; " he certainly went upon the 
 stage at an early age, and soon acquired great cele- 
 brity in his profession. Baker, speaking of him 
 and Burbage, says, " they were two such actors as no 
 age must ever look to see the like." Hey wood calls 
 him " Proteus for shapes and Roscius for a tongue." 
 Fuller says " he was the Roscius of the age especi- 
 ally in a majestic part." He is spoken of also in the 
 highest commendation, as an actor, by Ben Johnson 
 t and others of his contemporaries. 
 
 Alleyn was sole proprietor of the Fortune Play- 
 house in Golden-Lane, which he built at his own 
 expense, and which, no doubt, as he was a favorite 
 actor, was the source of considerable emolument. — 
 He also possessed a paternal estate and improved his 
 fortune by marriage. Having acquired a consider- 
 able property, he determined to bestow it upon a 
 charitable foundation. Having, after some difficulty, 
 at length obtained the royal assent, Alleyn fixed upon 
 
209 
 of the theatre in the time of Charles L* 
 
 Dulwich as the spot upon which he founded his col- 
 lege, having purchased an estate there as early as 
 1606. Here he retired after he left the stage, and 
 having formed his plan, he superintended the erect- 
 ing of the college ; lived to see it finished, and 
 spent the remainder of his days at Dulwich, visiting 
 and being visited by some of the most respectable 
 people in the kingdom ; he died in November, 1 626, 
 and was buried in the college chapel on the 27th of 
 of the same month. 
 
 * " It was in the time of Charles, Prynne (that., 
 " most violent puritan) wrote a book against actors, 
 " called, < Hislriomatix ; or the Players Scourge.' 
 " In which he employs a word of learning to shew 
 " the injury they do ; and he has been at the pains to 
 " look over one thousand authors on the subject, and 
 " prove that in two thousand years, a great number 
 < c of writers expressed their disgust at seeing men 
 " unon the stage in women's cloaths, for it was not 
 " then customary for any woman to appear in cha- 
 " racter. This furious republican, who, b\ his 
 " writings, contributed more than any other man, to 
 P 
 
210 
 
 At the conclusion of this reign, the actors 
 were thrown into a dilemma which com- 
 pletely put to the test their moral conduct. 
 Suddenly bereft of their support, by the 
 convulsions of the times — deprived of the 
 protection of their patrons — persecuted by 
 fanaticism — and anathematised by hypocri- 
 sy — they retained, not only their probity 
 unshaken, but many of them had courage 
 and relution to preserve, and manifest their 
 loyalty by fighting under the banners of 
 their lawful sovereign. In the new plays 
 
 " the destruction of the monarchy, and the death of 
 " the king, after having lost his ears in the pillory for 
 " writing this very book, became as violent for the 
 " restoration ; but what a world of mischief and blood- 
 " shed did he not occasion in the mean time. As a 
 " true lover of my country, and its establishment in 
 " church and state, I cannot help considering these 
 " attacks upon the stage, by the evangelical and mo- 
 << dern puritans, as tending to the same end. It be- 
 " hoves the legislature to look to the consequence." 
 
 DISRAELI'S CALAITATIES OF AUTHORS, 
 
211 
 
 produced immediately after the restoration, 
 the dramatis personae points out the rank 
 held by two of them ; Major Mohun and 
 Captain Hart. Through the corrupt and 
 dissipated reign of Charles II,* notwith- 
 standing the stage participated strongly in 
 the language and manners of the licentious 
 court, we find nothing stated of the players 
 being pre-eminently debauched, or setting 
 the example, in their own persons, of the 
 reprehensible voluptuousness of the time! 
 On the contrary, Betterton (who lived to a 
 very great age) is immortalized by the po- 
 lished praise of Sir Kit hard Steele 
 
 classical genius, embalming perishable ta- 
 lent ! 
 
 " For he who struts his hour upon the stage, 
 " Can scarce extend his fame for half an age ; 
 " Nor pen, nor pencil, can the actor save, 
 " But art and artist meet one common grave." 
 
 * It is worthy of remark, that during the long reign 
 of Charles II. there are but two divorces on record. 
 
212 
 
 An anonymous writer, after having given 
 a most amiable picture of this highly es- 
 teemed performer observes, " To sum up 
 ail ihat we have been saying " upon the 
 character of this extraordinary personage, 
 as he was the most perfect model of dra- 
 matic action, so was he the most unblem- 
 ished pattern of private and social qua- 
 lities. Happy is it for that player who 
 imitates him in the one, and still more 
 happy than who copies him in the other.'* 
 Sir Richard Steele, in his Tatler, has been 
 particularly attentive to the transeendant 
 merits of Mr. Berterton; so much so, that 
 he occupies no small share of even the very 
 
 Yet stylish and fashionable females constantly attend- 
 ed the representation of plays, replete with noxious 
 qualities, and remained — Prudes. In the latter end 
 of the reign of Geor<rp III. your stylish and fashion- 
 able females neglect the theatre* and remain — Co* 
 quettes ! 
 
213 
 
 first paper of that celebrated periodical 
 work. In the7*st number he again speaks 
 highly of him, for his performing Hamlet 
 at the advanced age of 70. 
 
 Mr. Addison, in number 158, invites 
 
 the town to attend Mr. Betterton on his 
 
 benefit night, at the play-house in the 
 Hay-market. 
 
 On Thursday, May 4, 1710, Sir Rich- 
 ard devotes a great part of his essay to the 
 memory of his departed excellence. 
 
 " Having received notice that the famous 
 actor, Mr. Betterton, was to be interred 
 this eveuing in the Cloisters, near West- 
 minster Abbey, I was resolved to walk 
 thither, and see the last office done to a 
 man whom I had always very much admir- 
 ed, and from whose action I had received 
 more strong impressions of what is great 
 
214 
 
 and noble in human nature, than from the 
 arguments of the most solid philosophers, 
 or the description of the most charming 
 poets I had ever read." 
 
 " Such an actor as Mr. Betterton, ought 
 to be recorded with the same respect as 
 Roscius among the Romans." " There is 
 no human invention so aptly calculated for 
 the forming a free born people as that of a 
 theatre." " Tully reports, that the cele- 
 brated player of whom I have been speak- 
 ing, (Roscius) used frequently to say, * The 
 perfection of an actor is only to become 
 what he is doing.' " But extracts cannot 
 do justice to Sir Richard's comments. 
 
 I would recommend the perusal of the 
 whole number to comprehend at once the 
 great skill of the actor, and enjoy the ad- 
 ditional gratification of the soundness of 
 
215 
 
 mind and liberality of heart evinced by the 
 entertaining BickerstafK 
 
 It is, I believe, a generally received 
 opinion, that the concomitant to a length 
 of years, must be an unsullied conscience, 
 rectitude of conduct, and peace of mind. 
 The vicious man may have strength of 
 frame to encounter the shocks of unruly 
 passions ; or he may have the fortune to 
 escape the retributive punishment of guilt : 
 he may live to wear the silver badge of vir- 
 tuous longevity — but I am persuaded such 
 instances are rare. With heartfelt satisfac- 
 tion can I confidently point to my profes- 
 sion for innumerable proofs of persons 
 enjoying " age like a lusty winter, frosty, 
 but kindly V' 
 
 , * I will give a few out of the many to prove it : Al 
 leyn, 70 — Betterton, 75— Mrs. Betterton, 67 — Colley 
 Cibber, 87— Quiu, 73— Rich, 70— Yates, 90— Bow- 
 
210 
 
 Nor do T remember a solitary instance of 
 one, from the querulousness of age, the 
 fear of death, or the retrospection of the 
 past, falling into the gloom of method ism, 
 or the depraved and desperate state of 
 atheism ; but, with a meek and devout 
 christian fervour, resigning their souls to 
 the equal judge of all, with the firm con- 
 viction, that they shall not be arraigned at 
 the awful bar as players but men. This 
 digression, having truth for its support, 
 serves to elucidate my position, that stage 
 performers are not more vicious, nor more 
 
 man, 85— Beard, 75— Leveridge, 88— Macklin 107— 
 Jefferson, 76— Hull, 78— Packer, 75— King, 75— 
 Havard, 68 — Moody, 84 — Mrs. Clive, 75, Lee Lewes, 
 70— Hirst, 70— Mattocks, 65— Lewis, 64— Mrs. Craw- 
 ford, 72— C. Bannister, 66— Bland, 80. Living, Mr. 
 Smith, 83— O'Brien, 75— Waidron, 70— Wewitzer, 
 64— Quick, 64— Mrs. Abingdon, 78— Miss Pope, 69 
 —Mrs. Mattocks, 67— Mrs. Leng, 76 
 
217 
 
 corrupt than their fellow mortals : — how- 
 ever, we now return to the histriouical re- 
 view ; and, passing to Booth, Cibber, and 
 Wilkes, we have only additional speci- 
 mens of genius, urbanity and probity*. — 
 
 * Davies, in his " Dramatic Miscellanies," has re- 
 corded an anecdote of Mrs. Porter, (a celebrated ac- 
 tress of this period) which cannot be too generally 
 known. Her place of residence being in the country, 
 she was under the necessity of keeping a one horse 
 chaise for the convenience of attending her profes- 
 sional duties ; her constant companions were a book 
 and a brace of pistols. — " In the summer 1731, as she 
 was taking the air, she was stopped by a highway- 
 man, who demanded her money. She had the cou- 
 rage to present one of her pistols to him ; the man, 
 who had perhaps with him only the appearance of 
 fire arms, assured that he was no common thief ; that 
 robbing on the highway was not to him a matter of 
 choice, but necessity, and in order relieve the wants 
 of his poor distressed family. He informed her at 
 the same time where he lived, and told her such a 
 melancholy story that she gave him all the money in 
 her purse, which was about ten guineas. The man 
 
218 
 
 Bring it down to Garrick, not one is to be 
 found whom liberality would wish to erase 
 
 left her; upon this she gave a la?h to her horse ; he 
 suddenly started out of the track, and the chaise was 
 overthrown; this occasioned the dislocation of her 
 thigh bone. Let it be remembered, to her honour, 
 that notwithstanding" this unlucky and painful acci- 
 dent, she made strict inquiry after the robber, and 
 finding that he had not deceived her, she raised 
 amongst her acquaintance about sixty pounds, which 
 the took care to send him. 
 
 " Such an action in a person of high rank, would 
 have been celebrated as something great and heroic : 
 the feeling mind will make no distinction between the 
 generosity of an actress and that of a princess." 
 
 Dramatic Anecdote — The late Mrs. Jordan pos- 
 sessed a heart susceptible of the most tender and 
 humane emotions, and these were called into instant 
 action at the least approach of misery and distress. Dur- 
 ing her short stay at Chester where she had been per- 
 forming, her washerwoman, with three small children, 
 was by a merciless creditor, thrown into prison. A 
 
219 
 
 from the page of biography. T decline par- 
 ticularizing others, more from the fear of 
 
 small debt of forty shilling's had been worked up, in a 
 short time, by law expeices into a bill of eight pounds. 
 As soon as Mrs. Jordan heard of the circumstance, 
 she sent for the attorney and paid him his demand. 
 
 On the afternoon of the same day the poor woman 
 was liberated. As Mrs. Jordan, with her servant, 
 was taking her usual walk on the Chester walls, the 
 widow with her children followed her; and just as 
 she had taken shelter from a shower of rain in a kind 
 of porch, dropped on her knees, and, with much 
 grateful emotion, exclaimed — *.* God for ever bless 
 3'ou madam ! you have saved me and my family from 
 ruin." The children beholding their mother's tears, 
 added, by their cries to the affecting scenes ; which a 
 sensitive mind could not behold without strong feel- 
 ings of sympathy. The natural liveliness of Mrs. 
 Jordan's disposition was not easily damped by sor- 
 rowful scenes ; however, though she strove to hide it, 
 the tears of feeling stole down her cheek, and stoop- 
 ping down to kiss the children, she slipped a pound 
 note into the mother's hand, and in her usual playful 
 
220 
 
 becoming tedious, than from the want of 
 materials. The curious or the incredulous 
 
 manner, replied — " There, there, now its all over ; 
 go good woman. God bless you ; — don't say another 
 word." The grateful creature would have replied, 
 but that good female Samaritan insisted on her si- 
 lence and departure. 
 
 It happened that another person had taken shelter 
 under the porch, and witnessed the whole of the in- 
 teresting scene, who as soon as Mrs. Jordan ob- 
 served him, came forward, and holding out his hand, 
 he exclaimed with a deep sigh, " Lady, pardon the 
 freedom of a stranger, but would to the Lord the 
 world were all like you !" The figure of this man 
 bespoke his calling ; his countenance was pale, and a 
 suit of sable, rather the worse for wear, covered his 
 tall and spare person. The penetrating eye of 
 Thalia's favorite soon developed his character and 
 profession, and with her wonted good humor, re- 
 treating a few paces, she replied, " No, I won't shake 
 hands with you." ' Why ?' u Because you are a me- 
 thodist preacher, and when you know who 1 am, 
 you'll send me to the devil ! — " The Lord forbid ! I 
 am, as you say, a preacher of the gospel, which tells 
 
221 
 
 may easily satisfy themselves by applying 
 to any one of the many volumes published 
 of the lives of theatrical professors. 
 
 us to cloth the naked, feed the hungry, and relieve 
 the distressed ; and do you think I can behold a sis- 
 ter cheer ul!y obeying the commands of my great 
 Master, without feeling that spiritual attachment 
 whrch leads me to break through worldly customs and 
 offer you the hand of friendship and brotherly love ! 
 Well, well, you are a good old soul, I dare say, but — 
 a — Idont like fanatics; and you'll not like me, when 
 I tell you I am a player ; you must have heard of me ; 
 Mrs. Jordan is my name. — After a short pause, he 
 again extended his hand, and with a complaisant 
 countenance, he replied, — The Lord bless thee, who- 
 ever thou art ; his goodness is unlimitted ; he has be- 
 stowed on thee a large portion of his spirit; and as to 
 thy calling, if thy soul upbraid thee not, the Lord 
 forbid that I should. 
 
 Thus reconciled, and the rain having abated, they 
 left the porch together ; the offer of his arm was ac- 
 cepted, and the female Roscius of comedy, and the 
 melancholy disciple of John Wesley, proceeded arm 
 
222 
 
 The present principal actors are too well 
 known to require an eulogium : 1 shall 
 only say, that, collectively, they may vie 
 with any body of men, for propriety and 
 decorum : and individually they would not 
 disgrace any station, however exalted. 
 
 I have advanced plain, unadorned, and 
 stubborn facts. I can still go further, and 
 aver, that there is no instance on record of 
 a sta-e-player suffering a shameful and 
 ignominious death ! I am well aware this 
 assertion may provoke the witticisms of the 
 witling, the jest of the joker, the malig- 
 nancy of the method ist, and perhaps the 
 
 in arm to the door of Mrs. Jordan's dwelling. At 
 parting 1 the preacher shook hands with her, saying, 
 u Fare thee well, sister; I know not what the prin- 
 ciples of thy calling may be, thou art the first I ever 
 conversed with; but if their benevolence equals thine, 
 I hope and trust, at the great day, the Lord will say to 
 each — Thy sins are forgiven thee. 
 
223 
 
 contemptuous smile of all. Still, still, it is 
 a glorious superiority ! What other body 
 can boast so immaculate a pre-eminence? 
 Is it — But I will not pursue the ungrateful 
 subject, conscious the stage requires no 
 such invidious comparisons to establish 
 its noble utility and purity. 
 
 Let the defenders of method ism and the 
 would-be oppressors of the stage, exercise 
 their ingenuity and their indefatigable re- 
 searches, to find, in the whole catalogue of 
 histriones, a parallel for the preacher 
 Wheatley ; the unworthy contemporary of 
 the two Wesleys. — A wretch, who, under 
 the garb of religion, exercised the base arts 
 of anefarious seducer, upon the unsuspect- 
 ing females of the sisterhood, to an ex- 
 tent that would have disgraced the most 
 depraved appetite of the most unprincipled 
 debauchee, ever recorded in the polluted 
 annals of gallantry. It is true, his expul- 
 
224 
 
 sion followed his final detection, but the 
 mischief he did in rhe time is incalculable. 
 We may partly judge of his depredations 
 under his religious disguise, when we are 
 informed, that three years after he had 
 been expelled with the brand of infamy 
 fixed upon him, — " the mayor of the city 
 of Norwich, was employed a whole day 
 in taking the affidavits of the women 
 whom he had tried to corrupt." 
 
 Far be it from my wish or intention to 
 charge the vices of so hase a monster upon 
 a whole body. Yet from this, and many 
 other instances on record, they should shew 
 some commisseration, for the frailties of 
 their fellow-creatures. When the example 
 of the early Methorlists, with Messrs. J. and 
 C. Wesley at their head, could not effect 
 a reformation in a man, who, independent 
 of their instruction, must, from his situa- 
 tion, have been in a hourly application to 
 
2-25 
 
 the scriptures. How more than illiberal it 
 is in them to consign a bod) of people to 
 everlasting perdition, because it cannot feel 
 their enthusiastic inspiration ; and what is 
 more to the credit of the condemned class 
 — will not feign it. 
 
 I may express myself strongly — but I 
 feel — deeply feel, the depression of an hon- 
 ourable profession, by the injustice and 
 obloquy heaped on it undeservedly — and 
 that in an age when men pride themselves 
 upon being unprejudiced in their opinions, 
 enlightened in their minds, enlarged in 
 their ideas. 
 
 Sincerely do I regret my powers and fa- 
 culties are not equal to my feelings ; proud- 
 ly would 1 advocate its cause — do justice 
 to its merits, and overwhelm its oppressors 
 with shame and confusion. 
 
 Q 
 
226 
 
 If the outcry against actors were confin- 
 ed to the narrow-minded, to the fanatic, 
 or the ignorant, it would require no great 
 share of practical philosophy to endure it; 
 but when we find members of every order, 
 distinction and body, uniting, as it were, by 
 common consent to depress genius merely 
 because it is theatrical,* we have nothing 
 
 * Mr. Evans, in his "Denominations of the Chris- 
 tian World," has omitted, (in his admirable essay, upon 
 enthusiam and superstition,) enumerating the drama- 
 tic art, with music, statuary, and painting-, He says, 
 " The poet, the musician, the painter, and the statuary 
 also are expected, and allowed to indulge an enthusi- 
 astic ardour in their professions; and for this trait in 
 their characters, they are entitled to commendation." 
 Twelfth Edition, page lxix. 
 I should like to know why this ingenious author 
 should mention the above arts, and reject the practi- 
 cal part of the drama ? — Where is the difference ? 
 Acting, like music, is an energy ; painting and poetry 
 are arts. The two former delight at the time of per- 
 formance, the latter after it is over. 
 
227 
 
 left, save the supplicating attitude of the 
 Negro, encumbered with the manacles of 
 prejudice, and exclaim — "Are we not your 
 brethren!" 
 
 There is one class, or body of men, loud- 
 er in their condemnation, and broader in 
 their invectives against the use of a stage, 
 than any other. I am almost inclined to 
 attribute their attacks to a sort of jealousy, 
 proceeding from a dread of rivalry. — But 
 this is truly idle and ridiculous ; — there are 
 customers enough for both. — We do not 
 depreciate their skill — we acknowledge their 
 merits, and allow them to be very good 
 actors.* Like the present dramatic world, 
 
 * I am happy to have the authority of Dr. Wither- 
 spooo for the confirmation of their skill in acting". " I 
 myself," he observes, " in early life, knew a young 
 man of good talents, who absolutely unfitted himself 
 for public speaking by this practice, [mimicry]. He 
 was educated for the ministry, and was in every res- 
 
228 
 
 they are divided into equestrians and pe- 
 destrians. — Like us they study stage effect, 
 and are very attentive to costume. We 
 confess, that in general they keep up to the 
 character they have assumed better than 
 •we do. Their disguise sits closer — they 
 seldom betray who, or what, is the actor 
 beneath. Be he pride, vanity, lust, avarice 
 *— zeal, sancitity, fervour, and holiness, con- 
 
 pect well qualified for the office ; but having, without 
 suspicion, frequently amused himself and others, 
 by imitating" the tones and gestures of the most emi- 
 nent preachers of the city where he lived, and when 
 he began to preach himself, he could not avoid falling" 
 into one or other of those tones which he had so often 
 mimtc'd. This, as soon as it was perceived, threw 
 the audience iuto a burst of laughter , and he was soon 
 obliged to quit the profession altogether, for no other 
 reason than that he had thus spoiled himself by the 
 
 talent of imitation." 
 
 Dr. Witherspoon's Letter. 
 
 I beg leave to designate the above facetious gentle* 
 man, the comic preaching Roscius t 
 
229 
 
 ceal him from the view ! They do the trick 
 without exposing the hand of the conjuror. 
 The attention they pay to the exterior is 
 very commendable.* — When you see one 
 of them, you immediately feel a conviction 
 of his being well habited for his part, We 
 will take an equestrian, to elucidate their 
 skill in dress and acting. A suit of black, 
 or sombre colour — polished boots, without 
 tops — hair smoothly combed, unruffled as 
 his mind — a gravity of deportment — a sleek 
 horse, dark and pampered like its rider, — 
 an empty saddle-bag, an inuendo of its 
 master's poverty, and emblematical of the 
 owners brains. With slow, deliberate pace 
 he moves his horse into the town ; the news 
 of the good man's arrival is therefore con- 
 
 * Even so ye also outwardly appeared righteous 
 unto men, but within, ye are full of hypocrisy and ini- 
 quity. 
 
 Matthew c. xxiii. ?. 2$. 
 
230 
 
 veyed to the place of his destination, time 
 enough for his host to receive him at the 
 door with as much humility as a Francis- 
 can friar would a cardinal. He is conduct- 
 ed to the best bed room, given the seat of 
 pre-eminence, lives upon the choicest 
 viands, reposes upon the softest bed. When 
 conducted to his theatre, he receives the 
 sighing approbation, and groaning acquies- 
 cence of all his auditors. He doles them 
 out a long-winded speech, in the form of an 
 extempore prayer, in which he too often 
 forgets the reverence and awe due to the 
 sacred cause of that Being whose servant 
 he has the presumption to call himself. 
 He extols the humility, poverty and suffer- 
 ings of the early supporters and promulga- 
 tors of the christian faith — but he keeps his 
 horse! He talks of primitive times, primi- 
 tive men, and primitive manners — but he 
 keeps his horse: He expatiates upon chari- 
 ty, and his saddle-bags are remembered ! If 
 
231 
 
 his rivals, the comedians, should he in town 
 —a spider to a fly — a ferret to a rat — can- 
 not be a more determined enemy. He ful- 
 minates them with brimstone; roasts them 
 with fire; consigns them to the lowes* pit 
 of perdition*, and receives the sanction of 
 
 * " At the theatre, when all is sunk in haughty for- 
 ge tfuln ess of God ; after the proud have once more 
 displayed their brilliancy, and set their heart as the 
 heart of God; after the eyes of vanity have for the 
 last time, feasted themselves; after the tears which 
 real guilt and misery demanded have been wasted on 
 fictitious crimes and calamities, and the whole croud 
 have been shaken with the madness of laughter; af- 
 ter profaneness hath unfurled its flag of defiance, with 
 hell-bred gallantry setting at nought the name of the 
 Most High, the tremendous operations of Providence, 
 and terrors of the bottomless pit ; after obscenity hath 
 swallowed down its morsel of elegant filthiness ; let a 
 celestial spirit shine forth, eclipsing the luminaries of 
 the place, (i. e. the lamps and candles) and scattering 
 round those terrors which were once fell at the se- 
 pulchre of Jesus of Nazareth ; and in such strains as 
 these, let his voice announce the hastening doom: — 
 
S32 
 
 his christian followers! He performs his 
 limited engagement, and then proceeds to 
 
 Worms of the dust, enemies of the eternal God ! .you 
 have long been the abhorrence of the inhabitants of 
 Heaven ; you have disdained to seek Jesus, who was 
 crucified ; the divine sorrows, the pure delights, which 
 his spirit creates in repenting souls you have rejected — 
 you have treated with derision ; now the day of your 
 visitation expires. I swear by him that liveth for 
 ever and ever, you shall have time no longer ! Then 
 let trembling rock the ground ; let the fabric and its 
 miserable assembly roll down the opening chasm, and 
 let the crowd of dislodged spirits behold the majestic 
 unveiled flaming countenance of their judge ! would 
 such vengeance be too severe. Let us not presume to 
 say it would." 
 
 From a Sermon preached by a Mr. Love> in 
 Artillery-lane London. 
 
 If this terrific minister of wrath be a specimen of 
 Mr. Love's angels ; what are we to expect from his 
 devils? Hundreds of souls to be suddenly immersed 
 in the liquid fire, for participating in what they con- 
 ceive an innocent amusement, and we are not to call 
 it a severe punishment! I would recommend Mr. 
 
233 
 
 the next place appointed by his managers, 
 and, repetatur haustus ! Boils and ebulii- 
 
 Love— an unfortunate name, for one composed of 
 hatred and all uncharitableness— to peruse, with at- 
 tention, the death of Stephen, and strive to gain some 
 of the genuine fine traits of pure Christianity. " And 
 they stoned Stephen,calling upon God,and saying Lord 
 Jesus receive my spirit. And he kneeled down, and 
 cried with a loud voice, Lord, lay not this sin to their 
 charge." Acts vii. 59, 60. 
 
 But why dost thou judge thy brother? or why dost 
 thou set at nought thy brother ? For we shall all 
 stand before the judgment-seat of Christ. Rom. xiv. 
 10. But if ye do not forgive, neither will your father 
 which is in heaven forgive your trespasses. Mark 
 xi. 26. Thou hypocrite, first cast out the beam out 
 of thine own eye. Matt. vii. 5. 
 
 Ye know not what manner of spirit ye are of, 
 
 Ye judge after the flesh ; I judge no man. 
 
 John vii. 15. 
 
 But 1 say unto you which hear, love your enemies ; 
 do good to them which hate you. Bless them that 
 curse you and pray for them which despitefully use 
 you. Luke vi. 27, 28. 
 
234 
 
 tions of a sound constitution! O Religion! 
 thou only pure good on earth! "Bairn of 
 hurt minds!" "Chief nourisher in life's 
 feast!" How is thy name degraded? What 
 imposters, what cheats assume thy livery ! 
 who, 
 
 " Play such fantastic tricks before high Heaven, 
 " As make the angels weep." 
 
 "When will the unbeliever learn the na- 
 ture of true religion from Jesus Christ him- 
 self, and not from those of his pretended 
 disciples, who retain little or none of the 
 lineaments of the divine original." 
 
 Having attempted a sketch of an eques- 
 trian saint hi one theatre, I will now try my 
 skill at an out-line of a pedestrian sinner 
 in the other. And I think our wonder will 
 be excited — not that there are so many 
 vicious — but, that so many should escape 
 from the pollution oi habits engendered by 
 
235 
 
 poverty and contempt. A young man is 
 enticed by indolence, thoughtlessm ss, or 
 vivacity, to embrace a profession, in the art 
 or mystery of which he is completely igno- 
 rant. The sinner, like the saint experiences 
 a call, mistaking intoxication for inspir- 
 ation — and enthusiasm for vigour and ca- 
 pacity. He has beheld the stage heroes and 
 heroines of his youthful recoiiection through 
 the most flattering medium, crowned with 
 praise, approbation and appiause. He par- 
 ticipates in the pleasure — repeats a speech 
 — learns a part by rote — spouts awav to 
 himself and a few chosen associates — they 
 extol his skill — his former Thespian idols 
 sink far beneath his own ideal excellence- 
 he feels himself their superior — the chair of 
 Roscius appears within his grasp. His 
 vanity thus inflamed, with all the impetu- 
 osity incident to youth, he enrols himself 
 under the standard of the first itinerant 
 manager who will receive turn. He soon 
 
236 
 
 feels a sensible difference! The board of 
 plenty is changed for that of indigence. He 
 finds no suppliant host to greet his efforts 
 with welcome and approbation! He finds 
 no cheerful fire side — no gentle courtesies 
 to sooth his irritated mind! The town 
 from which he had anticipated fame, re- 
 nown, and ail that folly could infuse into the 
 brains of sanguine boyhood, is as indifferent 
 to the public claims as it is careless about 
 his private wants! He finds himself an 
 isolated being in the midst of bustle — neg- 
 lected — shunned — pointed at by scorn's 
 slow unmoving finger! Banished from all 
 respectable society* — avoided like a pesti- 
 
 * If I permitted this passage to escape without a 
 comment, I should expect (and richly merit) the re- 
 proach of many dear and valued friends. I therefore 
 confess, with an indiscribable satisfaction, that 1 have 
 met, in the course of my theatrical progress, with 
 courtesies, hospitality and liberality never to be forgot- 
 ten, but tenaciously cherished with the fondest records 
 
237 
 
 lence! — his pride takes the alarm; he 
 wishes to retreat — infatuation still prevails 
 — and he quiescently submits to the oppro- 
 brious name of player, with every disgrace- 
 ful epithet which illiberality and ignorance 
 can bestow. If this should present itself to 
 the sight of one, attracted by the glare of the 
 stage, to him I will say , " young and thought- 
 less adventurer, if sensibility makes any part 
 of your composition, be content with your 
 
 of my happiest moments. York, Hull, Doncaster, 
 Sheffield, Huddersfield, Horncastle and Birminri'Hm 
 will ever furnish me with the recollection of individual 
 kindness, as flattering and as consolatory as the 
 receiving" of obligations without the power of a return 
 can possibly be. Dublin, Waterford, Carrick-on Suir, 
 and Youghal, have the same demands upon my 
 gratitude. With great sincerity of heart, I acknow- 
 ledge them, and deeply deplore this acknowledgment 
 is the only remuneration 1 can offer to evince the 
 warm remembrance of the many civilities bestowed 
 upon a stranger and a wanderer. 
 
238 
 
 present station ; regret not how humble, 
 reflect not how irksome! The prodigal, 
 when reduced to the state of a swine-herd, 
 was not more an object of sympathy than 
 the curse of feeling and susceptibility uni- 
 ted in the wayward lot of an itinerant 
 player !" 
 
 This is not an over-charged picture — 
 too many have sat for the likeness! Some 
 few are at this instant in London, receiving 
 the reward of their industry, suffering and 
 talent, by a liberal salary, and the counte- 
 nance of genius rank and literature — living 
 instances that the stage (even in the present 
 state,) so far from debasing the mind of the 
 professor — expands — invigorates it, and 
 enables the actor to triumph over the diffi- 
 culties and impediments thrown in his w T ay 
 by the selfish and narrow-minded. I am 
 aware of a seeming contradiction in at- 
 tempting to dissuade young adventurers, at 
 the same time I am producing instances of 
 
230 
 
 success. But there is defeat as well as vic- 
 tory in the contest; and it is a struggle 
 against fearful odds ! 
 
 Nothing can more fully prove the ab- 
 surdity of the prejudice against actors, than 
 the treatment they experience as professors 
 and men. The player, exercising his de- 
 lightful art, sooths and enchants the beings 
 who (when out of his fascinating sphere) 
 combine to worry and torment him. He 
 moves them to tears ; excites them to laugh- 
 ter, at his pleasure; they applaud him to 
 the skies — approve his skill — admire his 
 art ! The next day they avoid, despise, 
 contemn him, and all without any inves- 
 tigation of his mind, principles, or manners. 
 He is a player; — that one word* withers 
 
 * I frequently compare the estimation we are held 
 in by a large proportion of this our thinking nation, 
 with the condition of the unfortunate dogs upon the 
 whipping day in York. This amiable ceremony ori- 
 ginated during the enlightened days of our ancestors, 
 
240 
 
 the culture of his mind, depraves his prin- 
 ciples, corrupts his maimers, and condemns 
 him as an outcast ! 
 
 To make my cabinet of portraits com- 
 plete, I think it but my duty to present a 
 
 when an ill-starM, half starved, hungry dog thought 
 proper to run away with the pix from a priest officia- 
 ting at mass. The fate of the culprit may easily be 
 conceived. But to perpetuate the enormity of his 
 crime, upon the anniversary of that dreadful day^ 
 Ebor's canine race suffer severely, if they have the 
 temerity to show their noses in the public streets. At 
 first, the punishment was inflicted not only by the 
 priests, but we may presume by nearly the whole po- 
 pulation of the city. 
 
 However, time (that will conquer most customs not 
 secured upon the basis of rational principle) relaxed 
 the rigour of the discipline, and it has now fallen into 
 the hands of the junior merciful part of mankind. 
 
 Just so, the offences of the earlier stage fall upon us, 
 and though ihe full grown enlightened mind despises 
 such ridiculous prejudices — the boys in intellect 
 
241 
 
 minature likeness of a pedestrian actor 
 in our rival theatre. I likewise present it 
 as a specimen of an intended work I pur- 
 pose, at a future period, laying before the 
 public, entitled " The genuine lives of se- 
 veral Of OUr ERATIC PREACHERS." 
 
 Spiritual magazines, and evangelical 
 productions of the same sprightly nature, 
 I find to be in high repute with the serious 
 and elect. Therefore, to amuse the lambs 
 of grace, and give my trifling aid to the 
 great work of regeneration, I will com- 
 mence biographer*. My first subject will 
 
 pursue us still, and, like the dogs in York, we are 
 most unmercifully castigated by the untoward ur- 
 chins ; still the comparison is in favour of the dogs — 
 they are flogged but one day, we are in a state of 
 punishment all the year round. 
 
 * As many of my readers may imagine T have an 
 intolerable share of vanity in thinking myself compe- 
 
 R 
 
242 
 
 be" The wonderful conversion of Jeremiah 
 Muggins, S. S." Jeremiah Muggins is de- 
 scended from poor, but industrious, honest 
 parents. Education he had none, Sunday 
 schools not being then established : — Jere- 
 
 tent to the delicate task of delineating lives devoted 
 to such high purposes ; I will favour them with an 
 extract from these sacred repositories for all good 
 things, and then leave it to their decision how far I 
 am qualified for my intended office. " Mr. Kilham," 
 (the founder of the Kilhamites, seceders from the 
 old connexion, giving an account of himself— for these 
 saints very commonly compose their own legends) 
 says, " When 1 was about four years old, 1 was taken 
 by my parents to hear preaching, which caused me to 
 be troubled for a season, but my heart being so deceit- 
 ful, (at four years old) I soon forgot what I had 
 heard. I lived from my fifth to my twelfth or thirteenth 
 year under many divine impressions !" 
 
 Methodist Magazine, March, 1799. • 
 
 This Mr. Kilham dying in the prime of life, ra- 
 ther suddenly, many of the christian supporters of the 
 old connexion, did not hesitate in pronouncing it a 
 punishment from God, for his secession. 
 
243 
 
 my had no other advantage than what let- 
 tered ginger- bread, or the common horn- 
 book could afford him. His father, being 
 what the profane termed a Muggletonian, 
 endeavoured to implant in Jerry's early 
 mind the seeds of grace, but Satan scat- 
 tered them abroad like chaff, and weeds 
 and thistles marked the desolation of his 
 soul. Nothing gave him delight, save bal- 
 lad-singing, cock-fighting, badger-huuting, 
 bull-baiting, wrestling, cudgeling, drinking, 
 boxing, wenching. But what made his sin- 
 ful course appear more desperate, was, the 
 strong inclination he had for visiting the 
 play-house ! — That tabernacle of the De- 
 vil !_The pit of Hell !— Boxes for the 
 train of Lucifer! Galleries for the high 
 throne of Satan ! — The castle of Belzebub ! 
 — The high road to destruction ! — The sink 
 of all filth and unrighteousness! — A gar- 
 nished sepulchre! — The Devil's church 
 and temple! — Satanical fables! — Diaboli- 
 
244 
 
 cal mysteries !— Hellish conventicles ! — An 
 Apprenticeship of sin ! A trade of wicked- 
 ness which leads to Hell ! — The Devil's 
 solemnities, or pomps! — Mammon's vine- 
 yard, where Satan's labourers work for the 
 wages of sin and iniquity ' — The toy-shop 
 of vanity, supported by the Devil's buf- 
 foons ! Roisters, brawlers, ill-dealers, boas- 
 ters stallions, ruffians* ! ! ! 
 
 Unhappy Jerry ! what a perilous place 
 for thy poor miserable sin-drenched soul ! 
 However, the day of conversion was at hand, 
 and the way of faith and the instantaneous 
 operation of the spirit, to be made manifold 
 by the after aid of this abandoned sinner. 
 
 * Far be it from my wish, to receive approbation at 
 the expense of another. I must therefore inform my 
 reader that I cannot lay claim to the invention of one 
 of those elegant and ingenious epithets : I have bor- 
 rowed them from different liberal publications 1 have 
 had the great satisfaction of perusing. 
 
245 
 
 In the year of our Lord, 1780, Mr. Wes- 
 ley held forth in the town of C giving 
 
 manna to the starved, and balm to the 
 thirsty ! Jeremiah was tempted by a wicked 
 and a mischievous curiosity to attend the 
 good man. Happy moment! Wonderful 
 conversion ! The scales dropped from his 
 eyes ! He roared aloud for help ! In less 
 than a week the work of regeneration was 
 accomplished — in less than a fortnight he 
 exhorted — in less than a month he was a 
 preacher with many followers ! ! ! 
 
 And as it is awfully curious to observe 
 the conflicts of the flesh and the devil 
 against the inward workings of the new 
 man, it is no less satisfactory to record 
 their progress. Jerry's lips were first touch- 
 ed with the words of wisdom in presence 
 of several of the brethren at a class meet- 
 ing held at the house of John Grouse, the 
 unworthy writer of this. Jeremiah suddenly 
 
246 
 
 stood on his feet — be looked wildly — we 
 were all troubled, fearing a backsliding; 
 but we were graciously relieved from our 
 suspense, by Jerry's exclaiming, " It has 
 pleased the Lord to build a few houses o' 
 top o' Meadow Bank! — Praise to the Lord ! 
 Let each house become a tabernacle to the 
 Lord, and have a Halter therein, for the 
 use of the brethren. Amen! Amen!" I 
 give his own unsophisticated language to 
 encourage those, who, strong with the Spi- 
 rit, are yet deterred from utterance through 
 gnorance of their own vernacular tongue. 
 
 If thou feel thou hast a call, never re- 
 gret thy want of education — the operation 
 of the spirit is great ! Heed not thy trade, 
 thy family ; there will be souls when there 
 will not be shoes ! The time will come 
 when nakednt ss will not be an abomination, 
 and the garb of the elect will avail thee 
 more than breeches, though they be made — 
 of leather ! 
 
247 
 
 The first text Jerry held forth on, was 
 from 2 Kings iv. 38. " Set on the gnat 
 pot." The next, " Two legs and a piece 
 of an ear." 
 
 (To be continued. J 
 
 In the foregoing specimen, I have not 
 availed myself of the particular providences 
 always attending this peculiarly happy class 
 of men, inspired in their minds, invulnera- 
 ble in their bodies. Be they opposed by 
 learning and philosophy? The operations 
 of the spirit enable them immediately to 
 confound and overwhelm their opponents. 
 A re they attacked by a rabble ? They re- 
 ceive no injury. 
 
 Mr. John Wesley, independent of his 
 escape from tire, in his infancy, was ever 
 remarkable for the astonishing interposi- 
 tion of an invisible power in his behalf. 
 Mr. Nightingale, in his " Portraiture of 
 
24S 
 
 Methodism," furnishes us with some very 
 wonderful instances from a publication of 
 Mr. Wesley's, printed about the year 1745, 
 giving an account of several violent pro- 
 ceedings against the Methodists, particu- 
 larly in 1744, at Wednesbury. The reve- 
 rend Armenian father makes the following 
 observations upon his dangers and difficul- 
 ties in this business. 
 
 "I never saw such a chain of providences 
 before, so many convincing proofs that the 
 hand of God is on every person, and thing, 
 overruling him as it seemeth good. Among 
 these I cannot but reckon the circumstances 
 that follow : 
 
 1st. " That they endeavoured, abundance 
 of times, to trip me up, as we went down hill, 
 over the wet slippery grass to the town ; as 
 well judging that if I was once on the 
 ground, I should hardly rise again ; but I 
 
249 
 
 made no slip, nor the least stumble at all, 
 till I was entirely out of their hauds." 
 
 2d. " That though many strove to lay 
 hold on my collar, or cloaths, they could 
 not fasten at all ; their fingers, I cannot tell 
 how, slipping along without fixing once ; 
 only, one man seized the flap of my waist- 
 coat and took it away with him: the other 
 flap, in the pocket of which was a twenty 
 pound note, was torn but half off." — 
 (Money, that filthy mammon, becomes sa- 
 cred in their possession ! — Wonderful ! 
 wonderful ! most wonderful ! !) 
 
 3d. " That a lusty man, just behind, 
 struck at me with a large oaken stick, with 
 which if he had struck me in the back of 
 the head, I should probably have preached 
 no more , but every time the blow was 
 turned aside, I know not how, for I could 
 not move to the right hand or the left." 
 
250 
 
 4th. " That another man came rushing 
 through the press, raised his arm to strike, 
 let it sink again, and stroking my head said, 
 ' What soft hair he has ! I cannot find in 
 my heart to hurt him, &c. &c.' The cry of 
 most was, ' Away with him, away with him ;' 
 of others, 'Kill him at once:' But none 
 so much as once mentioned how, only one 
 or two (I almost tremble to relate it) 
 screamed out (with what meaning I cannot 
 tell) crucify the dog- crucify him*.' 
 Two years since, one threw at me a piece of 
 
 * Much to the credit of Mr. Wesley's reputation, 
 Dr. Coke and Mr. Moore have omitted this singular 
 passage in their history of this extraordinary, and I wil 
 add, great man. It gave me no small degree of sur- 
 prise, as well as pleasure, to find so many quotations 
 from our divine dramatic bard, interspersed through 
 the above gentlemen's work. To which of them we 
 are indebted for this proof of taste, it is beyond my 
 power to ascertain. But it would be curious to hear 
 their justification for borrowing from that which they 
 mark with infamy. 
 
251 
 
 brick, which grazed on my shoulder, but 
 hurt me not. It was a year after, that ano- 
 ther threw a stone, which struck me be- 
 tween the eyes, but the hurt was soon 
 healed, and still no man had power to lay 
 a hand upon me." 
 
 " At St. Ives, last month, I received one 
 blow, the first I ever had, on the side of 
 the head, and this night two, one before we 
 came into the town, and one after I was going 
 out into the meadows. But though one 
 man struck me on the breast with all his 
 might, and the other on the mouth, so that 
 the blood gushed out ; I felt no more pain 
 from either of the blows than if they had 
 touched me with a straw ! ! !" 
 
 Portraiture of Methodism, page 159, 
 
 Perhaps, as " the Devil can quote scii >ture to suit 
 his purpose," the saints have an equal privilege, and 
 can cite passages from those books they declare de- 
 dicated to the use of his temple and worship. 
 
252 
 
 But it is not to Mr. Wesley alone, these 
 providential interpositions have been shewn. 
 All the preachers have participated in the 
 same invisible care, nor are they confined 
 to his sect ; they not only protected one of 
 his rivals, the late reverend Mr. Hunting- 
 don, but furnished him with food, raiment, 
 money, chapel, wife, coach, horses, farm 
 — in short, every thing desirable in life 
 down to the most trifling articles. Atbuild- 
 ing his new tabernacle, which he called 
 " Providence Chapel," the people, he says, 
 first offered 11/. and laid it on the foun- 
 dation at the beginning of the building." 
 
 "A good gentleman, with whom I had but 
 little acquaintance, and of whom I bought 
 a load of timber, sent it in with a bill and 
 receipt in full, as a present to the Chapel 
 of Providence. Another good man came 
 with tears in his eyes, and blessed me, and 
 desired to paint my pulpit, desk, &c. as a 
 
253 
 
 present to the Chapel. Another person 
 gave half a dozen chairs for the vestry ; 
 and my friends Mr. and Mrs. Lyons fur- 
 nished me with a tea chest, well stored, and 
 a set of china. My good friends, Mr and 
 Mrs. Smith, furnished me with a very hand- 
 some bed, bedstead, and all its furniture 
 and necessaries, that I might not be under 
 the necessity of walking home in the cold 
 winter nights," O indulgence, and luxury, 
 what changes do ye work in your votaries ! 
 An errand boy, a daily labourer, and a 
 cobler, shrinking with apprehension from 
 the " winter's flaw." O age of wonders ! 
 blunders! and absurdities! " A daughter 
 of mine in the faith gave me — a looking- 
 glass for my chapel study." Unless the 
 good Mr. Huntingdon meant to joke with 
 us, the name of this daughter must cer- 
 tainly have been Vanity ! Probably there 
 may be some latent mystic meaning, under 
 the term looking glass ; perhaps he did not 
 
254 
 
 absolutely mean bona fide a mirror. But 
 we will leave the investigation of it to his 
 enlightened followers, and all other able 
 interpreters of obscure texts. 
 
 " Another friend gave me my pulpit 
 cushion and a book case for my study. Ano- 
 ther gave me a book-case for my vestry ; 
 and my good friend Mr. E. seemed to level 
 all his displeasure at the devil, for he was 
 in hopes 1 should be enabled, through the 
 gracious arm of the Lord, to cut Rahab 
 in pieces; therefore he furnished me with 
 the sword of the spirit — a new Bible, with 
 morocco binding and silver clasps" 
 
 Of what possible service this finery 
 could be in his attack upon Rahab, I can- 
 not imagine. They are always telling us, 
 the devil is too fond of splendour, to shrink 
 from it. The gifts I have selected from 
 the eleemosynary catalogue, furnished by 
 
255 
 
 the coal-heaving prophet, form but a very 
 small part of the tribute paid by Credulity 
 at the altar of Imposition. He had a 
 " Bank of Faith" to draw upon, and 
 he was by no means delicate or penurious 
 in his applications. 
 
 Most of the Methodist preachers are 
 ambitious to encounter occasions for the 
 exhibition of these singular providences 
 in their favour. One known in the North 
 of England by the name of the preaching 
 buckle-maker, says, " This day a stone 
 hit me on my head, but not to do me any 
 material hurt ; and my Saviour comforted 
 me. This was the only time that I was 
 ever hit, though I have been where showers 
 of rotten eggs, and other things have been 
 thrown at me. I have reason indeed to 
 be thankful that none was ever permitted to 
 touch me, save this one stone. Was thy 
 servant Stephen stoned to death, and must 
 
256 
 
 I, t hy poor unworthy servant, less than the 
 un worthiest of ail, have but one stone ! ! !" 
 
 Mr. Wesley says, " The Methodists 
 alone" (that is, they are the only body of 
 people who can boast this extensive libe- 
 rality) " do hot insist on your holding this 
 or that opinion, but they think and let 
 think." 
 
 Thinks- I-to-my self, they are most woe- 
 fully fallen off from this highlv advantage- 
 ous position. Without entering into the 
 intolerant notions they entertain of every 
 other sect, look at the history of their own 
 divisions — Iheir bickerings — their squab- 
 bles — and their schisius. Read the differ- 
 ent pamphlets composed during the con- 
 tention between the societies and the con- 
 ference^ — look at the proceedings of the 
 whole affair up to the expulsion of Mr. 
 Kiiham — let them separately examine their 
 
257 
 
 mortal antipathy to each other, and then 
 let them expatiate on liberality, freedom 
 of opinion, brotherly love, charity — in 
 short, let them avow, if they dare, what- 
 ever THEY MAY THINK, that they LET 
 
 think. Practical observation, after all, 
 is a sure touch-stone; let us apply it in 
 the present instance. Let each man pos- 
 sessing the smallest degree of penetration, 
 observe the people designating themselves 
 Methodists. What is their great and won- 
 derful superiority? Are they strictly at- 
 tentive to the relative duties which should 
 bind us more closely to each other ? Do 
 we not on the contrary (generally speaking) 
 find them selfish, gloomy, and unsocial? 
 Dead to the wants of those around them — 
 alive only to their own little, narrow, dirty 
 interests. 
 
 How are they in trade ? Are they more 
 liberal in their modes of dealing ? Are 
 they more strict in their word, or less anx- 
 
 <2 
 
258 
 
 ious at over-reaching in a bargain, that* 
 their fellow creatures ? Where is the great 
 advantage they have gained ? In what is 
 it evinced ? The natural attendants up n 
 a clear and good conscience, are cheerful- 
 ness of manner, a suavity of temper, and 
 a general love for the whole creation ! Do 
 they possess any of these signs ? Look at 
 them ! After having felt the sacred call — 
 after having received the precious assur- 
 ance of God's particular regard — does not 
 that make them more cheerful? — No. — 
 And if their " inward man" be really fed 
 by hidden manna, it must be of a very- 
 sour and nauseous nature, to make such an 
 impression upon the features of the out- 
 ward and visible man. 
 
 Are they more rational in their domes- 
 ticated amusements than their frail bro- 
 thers and sisters in the flesh? — Amuse- 
 ments! — Yes, amusements, — Believe me, 
 
259 
 
 it is the intention of an all-wise God, that 
 man should participate in joy as well as 
 grief; mirth as well as sorrow, relaxation 
 as well as employment. Let the mind be 
 wholly absorbed by sorrow, or engrossed 
 by pleasure; — in the one instance it inca- 
 pacitates the owner for any other situation 
 than that of a candidate for Bedlam, and 
 in the other, degrades him into a sensual 
 reptile, who will sink into an early grave 
 enervated and despised. I will not attempt 
 to insinuate that this pious class are sen- 
 sualists ; on the contrary, the general weak- 
 ness of their intellect is too apt to take 
 another bias : — however, they are not with- 
 out their amusements. In fact, with the 
 visionaries of the sect, their whole pursuit 
 is amusement, from their five o'clock 
 prayer in the morning, until their depreca- 
 tory orison at night. 
 
 But they have watch-nights, love-feasts, 
 
260 
 
 hymns, bibliomancy, sacred lottery, witch- 
 stories, ghost tales, and religious scandal. 
 
 For the particulars of the watch-nights 
 and love-feasts, &c. &c. I refer the in- 
 quisitive reader to Mr. Nightingale's Por- 
 traiture of Methodism. Bibliomancy, or 
 divination by the Bible, (the sortes virgili- 
 anae of the Romans) though practised as an 
 amusement by the fair sisterhood, is fre- 
 quently the sole guidance of the leaders 
 and preacheis*. The sacred lottery is 
 
 * "I continued thus to seek it (though with strange 
 indifference, dullness, and coldness, and unusually 
 frequent relapses into sin) till Wednesday, May 24th. 
 I think it was about five this morning, I opened my 
 Testament on those words, There are given unto us 
 exceeding great and precious promises, that by these 
 ye might be partakers of the divine nature." 2 Peter i. 
 4. " Just as I went out, I opened it again on these 
 words, Thou art not far from the kingdom of God.® 
 
 Coke and Moore's Life of Wesley, p. 158,. 
 
261 
 
 drawn by means of printed cards, contain- 
 ing texts of a cheerful and enlivening na- 
 ture, and when a sister draws one, she 
 purchases, cheaply, momentary satisfac- 
 tion. 
 
 Did they stop here, who could con- 
 demn them ? Who but would pity them, 
 for depriving themselves of so many sources 
 of rational amusement to fritter away life 
 in religious trifling* ? But here they do 
 
 Mr. Wesley having" sanctioned divination by his own 
 example, it cannot be a matter of surprise that most 
 of his followers should look up to this mysterious art 
 with great hope and reliance, notwithstanding he 
 lubsequently marked the custom with disapprobation. 
 
 * Knowing the aptitude of this most respectable 
 body to twist and torture plain sense, I think it neces- 
 sary to state, that I mean down right trifling, how- 
 ever they may flatter themselves that they are all the 
 time religious because they are serious. 
 
262 
 
 not stop. The sweetest things will cloy. 
 When hymns, ghosts, witches, biblioman- 
 cy, and the sacred lottery have been ex- 
 hausted, then comes on the formidable 
 fiery ordeal, through which the characters 
 of all within their ken, must pass. How 
 few will pass unhurt, I can only imagine, 
 by the outcry raised against them for their 
 propensity to this uncharitable, unchristian- 
 like attack upon their absent neighbours.* 
 
 The sapient gentleman who counted the number 
 of letters in the old and new Testament, must have 
 been one of these amusing serious triflers. 
 
 * I cannot confine this religious stricture to the 
 Methodist ; — I have known women of birth and for- 
 tune, with no inconsiderable share of intellect, after 
 having become serious, evangelical, vital christians 
 (i. e. stepping stoises to Methodism,) turn out the 
 most loquacious gossips in the parish, entertaining 
 their guests with anecdotes better calculated for a 
 tete-a-tete over a washing-tub, or the borachio of a 
 barber's shop, than a drawing-room. I suppose it is 
 all for the good of our souls that they endeavour to 
 
263 
 
 The life of the female Methodist can only 
 be paralleled by Mrs. Graham's description 
 of the ladies composing a mahomedan 
 Haram. " They mutter their prayers, and 
 some of them read the Koran, but not one 
 in a thousand of them understands it. 
 They thread beads, plait coloured silks, 
 sleep, quarrel, make pastry, and chew 
 betel, in the same daily round." 
 
 But to return to the object of their 
 hatred. If the use of a theatre be attended 
 with all the abominations described by these 
 brawling sons of zeal and bigotry, how 
 
 support a system of family espionage throughout the 
 kingdom, — Nay, if any of these rich precise should 
 get familiar footing in your house, they will not only 
 tell you what is passing under every roof in the hun- 
 dred, but will edify you with gratuitous lectures upon 
 the improprieties of each department in your own 
 economy. 
 
264 
 
 comes it that Jesus and his apostles re- 
 main silent on the subject ? Why did they 
 not, in express terms, forbid the use of it ? 
 They have been minutely particular, not 
 only upon the commission of crimes, but 
 explicit in their condemnation of every 
 remote agent and conductor to vice. We 
 are instructed to "abstain from all appear- 
 ance of evil." The usurpers of the apos- 
 tolic mission trick out the stage, not only 
 as the tempter, but actually the encourager, 
 supporter, promoter, and patron of every 
 vice. Surely their zealous fears either ag- 
 gravate and over-charge the picture, or the 
 apostles were remiss in their duty. I leave 
 it to the rational and truly religious to de- 
 cide, which of the parties are in error. 
 
 It is a subject for curious admiration, 
 that in the whole ministration of our blessed 
 Saviour and his chosen followers, there is 
 no evidence of their ever taking advantage 
 
Z6b 
 
 of popular opinions to establish their cause, 
 or add totne number of their proselytes. 
 
 The woman taken in adultery; gathering 
 ears of corn on the sabbath ; eating with 
 publicans, and a variety of instances, will 
 fully elucidate my assertion. 
 
 Their silence upon the use of a theatre 
 in Jerusalem is another striking proof. An 
 establishment forced upon the inhabitants 
 at the expence of several lives, by Herod 
 the great — an amusement so diametrically 
 opposite to the laws and customs of the 
 Jews — an innovation so violent to their 
 feelings and inclinations — must have been 
 in a very feeble, precarious state ; particu- 
 larly when it had lost its founder and sup- 
 porter by the decease of Herod. — Yet, 
 notwithstanding the temptation to populari- 
 ty, and the evident respect he pays to the 
 customs of his country, Jesus passes it by 
 
266 
 
 without the slightest mark of condemnation, 
 in which he is imitated by the whoie of his 
 apostles.* 
 
 The immediate followers of our blessed 
 Saviour were persecuted, despised, con- 
 temned; sealing their belief in their great 
 instructor's doctrine, by meekness, humility, 
 forbearance, charity, and death itself! 
 They endeavoured to conquer the enemies 
 of their faith by peace and good-will. They 
 would not destroy or anathematise their 
 bitterest foes, but they were ready to shed 
 their blood in defence of their ministration. 
 " Forgive us our sins as we forgive them 
 that trespass against us" with them was not 
 lip-service, it was indelibly engraved on 
 the heart — incorporated itself with their 
 natures — regulated their actions — purified 
 their thoughts — and endeared them to their 
 
 *Vide Father Caffaro's letter, p. 108. 
 
207 
 
 great exemplar. Look at the mildness, the 
 simplicity, the philanthropy of the apostles; 
 their continual prayers and intercessions 
 with the Almighty for mercy upon the un- 
 godly. " The primitive christians were 
 of a joyous as well as of a devout turn of 
 mind. Being justified by faith they had 
 peace with God, through our Lord Jesus 
 Christ. Believing they rejoiced with joy 
 unspeakable and full of glory." 
 
 Turn an eye upon our modern saints. — 
 What a contrast ! — An affected sternness of 
 manner* — a brutality of behaviour — a 
 
 * Moreover when ye fast, be not as the hypocrites, 
 of a sad countenance ; for they disfigure their faces, 
 that they may appear unto men to fast. Verily I say 
 unto you, they have their reward. 
 
 But thou when thou fastest, anoint thy head and 
 wash thy face, that thou appear not unto men to fast, 
 but unto thy father which is in secret, and thy father 
 which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly. 
 
 Matt. vi. 16, 17, 18. 
 
26$ 
 
 frantic bellowing of voice, more in unison 
 with an enthusiastic priest of Bellona, than 
 the humble and meek attendant upon the 
 merciful God of peace and concord. 
 Threatening, not soothing ; denouncing, not 
 praying; cursing, not blessing; are the 
 marks of the beast upon them !* They 
 cannot feel the genuine principles of Chris- 
 tianity. Are they not mislead by false 
 lights — groping in the dark — insensible 
 to the divine emanations of its exalted 
 founder ! 
 
 "When will the unbeliever learn the 
 nature of true religion from Jesus Christ 
 himself and not from those of his (pretend- 
 
 * But I say unto you which hear, love your ene- 
 mies, do them good which hate you. 
 
 Bless them that curse you, and pray for them which 
 despitefully use you. 
 
 Luke vi. 27, 28. 
 
209 
 
 edj disciples who retain little or none of the 
 lineaments of the divine original." 
 
 But if these self elected encroachers 
 deserve reprobation, what are we to say to 
 the contracted illiberality of some of the 
 ministers of the establishment ? What 
 language can be sufficiently strong to con- 
 demn those who have the temerity to sully 
 the pulpit of toleration with the dogmas, 
 ravings and perplexities of these modern 
 corrupters of sense, decency, grace, religion 
 and virtue.* " Can words more clearly 
 express the honour and worship we are to 
 pay to God, or can more familiar expres- 
 sions be given in this case than are to be 
 found in the gospel? Is there any thing 
 relating to divine worship that we want in- 
 
 * Also of your own selves shall men arise, speaking 
 perverse things to draw away disciples after th^m 
 
 Acts xx. 30. 
 
'270 
 
 structing in ? Are not the duties which we 
 owe to each other made evident and plain ? 
 And can there be any disputes about them, 
 except what arise from lust, or avarice, or 
 other self-interest?*" Some of this des- 
 cription have had the presumption to de- 
 nounce vengeance, from the rostrum of 
 peace, upon those who shall dare to enter 
 within the walls of a playhouse; notwith- 
 standing it is an establishment built and 
 carried on under the sanction of a legisla- 
 tive act, and should be considered property 
 as strongly secured from the scurrilous 
 attacks of an individual, as a banker's — a 
 
 * I have in my possesion some private anecdotes 
 respecting church building and pew letting-, that fur- 
 nish me with ample retaliation for all the abuse lav- 
 ished on us from some pulpits I could mention. — But 
 I forbear; and hope that those whom it may concern, 
 will condescend to take a lesson from a poor stage 
 player. 
 
271 
 
 merchant's — or any other legal commercial 
 concern. If the power of the legislature 
 encourages and entitles me to speculate in 
 the erection of a theatre, and I am after- 
 wards at the mercy of bigotry, ignorance, 
 or perhaps design — I say the law in that 
 particular is defective, and I am cheated 
 with the shadow for the substance! I again 
 avow and protest, that I have the greatest 
 veneration, respect, and esteem for the 
 clerical body at large; nor do I intend to 
 ofier the smallest insult to those who act 
 consistently with the tolerant disposition of 
 the mildest church ever founded. I feel a 
 conviction the major part of them must 
 condemn the supererrogatory interference 
 of some of their brethren, who interweave 
 in their discourses pointed invectives and 
 bitter anathemas against a profession which 
 is sanctioned by the laws of the land, and 
 has been strongly countenanced by one of 
 
272 
 
 the most moral and religious princes that 
 ever graced a throne.* 
 
 In their attacks they too frequently evince 
 
 * With such an amiable living- example before our 
 eyes, of both religion and morality, a methodistical 
 stage opponent has had the temerity to propose the 
 following question : " How has it happened if the 
 stage be the school of virtue, that the most dissolute 
 and abandoned of mankind are its passionate admirers, 
 and warmest advocates ; that those who trample on 
 every moral obligation, and despise the sanctions of 
 religion, have, in every age, afforded the theatre their 
 most cordial support ?" This is a happy specimen of 
 their disingenuous mode of attack — where a man will 
 have the effrontery to make a bold affirmation, which 
 he knows to be untrue, and, with all the trick of cun- 
 ning, give it the form of an ingenuous que re. 
 
 Let me state the question : *< How has it happened, 
 if the stage be not the school of virtue, that George 
 III. Addison, Young, and Johnson, have given it their 
 warmest countenance and support?" But the religion 
 of such men our fanatics cannot appreciate, and their 
 morality they despise. 
 
273 
 
 3t disposition more congenial to the fanatic 
 field-preacher, than to the gentleman, the 
 scholar, or the divine, and must call for 
 a rebuke sharper than it is in my power to 
 bestow. 
 
 This must not be considered irrelevant to 
 the subject— I am pointing out the arch 
 enemies of my profession. They are aware 
 of the ascendency of the stage — they dread 
 it. They know it is the powerful barrier 
 against an inundation of hypocritical fana- 
 ticism.* 
 
 * " To such christians I would recommend consis- 
 tency, and advise them never to absent themselves 
 from the theatre, when the play-bills announce for 
 performance — The Hypocrite. 
 
 Let the galled jade wince ! 
 
 The reasons why the ancient Fathers wished to sup- 
 press the stage, have already been given ; they do 
 honour to their piety, and justify their zeal for the 
 T 
 
274 
 
 To level it, they apply all their engines 
 of bigotry, aspersion, condemnation, false- 
 hood, denunciation, malice, hatred, and all 
 uncharitableness. They abhor satire, how- 
 ever just; they tremblingly shrink from an 
 
 establishment of Christianity, over a religion false as 
 it was inefficient. 
 
 But our modern zealots, oppose it, " as a step on which 
 they must fall down, or else o'erleap," before they 
 can accomplish ther wish and aim of domination in 
 religion. When the conference shall become Bishops, 
 theu the elect will triumph, and that they have no ob- 
 jection to episcopacy, the reader will find elucidated 
 in Nightingale's Portraiture of Methodism, page 40 1. 
 
 An Impromptu by the Rev. C. Wesley, 
 
 So easily are bishops made 
 
 By man's or woman's whim, 
 Wesley his hands on Coke hath laid. 
 
 But who laid hands on him ? 
 
 fooctor Coke was the Arch Bishop of Columbia 
 and founder of the Methodist Episcopal Church in 
 America* 
 
273 
 
 investigation of their principles, and would 
 gladly extirpate the profession which has 
 still honesty to expose vice, folly, and hy- 
 pocrisy, under whatever garb they should 
 have the presumption to appear. Thus, as 
 the selfish promoters of their own sinister 
 ends at the expense of taste, genius, and 
 rational recreation, it is the duty of every 
 honest man to strip them of their assumed 
 holiness — lay them open to the world — 
 expose their baseness and corruption — and 
 consign them to the neglect and contumely 
 they so richly merit. 
 
 Would I could close my complaints on 
 religious interposition here! I have wit- 
 nessed many lamentable instances of the 
 inveterate disiiKe ana the ungenerous oppo- 
 sition the stage experiences from the clergy 
 of the Romish persuasion in Ireland. I am 
 inclined to hope it is only from the ignorant 
 part of them ; — but my catfdour will not 
 
27a 
 
 permit me to conceal that many of them 
 take the most unjustifiable means to crush it. 
 
 Should this mode receive the sanction of 
 the more enlightened part of them, I can 
 only say it is another and another proof of 
 the fallacy, inconsistency, and weakness of 
 human nature. Can the same being claim 
 toleration for himself and yet be intolerant 
 toothers? — How repugnant to decency — * 
 how derogatory to reason — how preposter- 
 ous to common sense must it appear to 
 hear a priest, from the altar of his God, 
 threaten his flock with the privation of con- 
 fession, communion, absolution, and all the 
 consolations of their religion, should they 
 presume to witness a dramatic representa- 
 tion. Is this toleration ? In the full pleni- 
 tude of power, with all the aid of ecclesi- 
 astical vengeance 1 presume 
 
 However, the present delicate situation of 
 
277 
 
 so large and respectable a body as tbe Irish 
 Roman Catholics, prevents me from saying 
 more upon the interference of their priests 
 in stage amusements : my subject would 
 not permit me to say less, nor can I dismiss 
 it without condemnation for the unchris- 
 tian spirit they evince in their manner of 
 opposing a theatre. One of the brightest 
 ornaments of their persuasion has said, 
 
 "That mercy I toother's show, 
 u That mercy show to me." 
 
 Strongly, but modestly, would I recom- 
 mend to their serious attention the follow- 
 ing conclusion of one of our moral sermons, 
 wherein they will perceive we are assistants 
 in their cause, though they labour for our 
 extinction. 
 
 4t Let us scorn to bow beneath the force 
 of vulgar prejudice, and fold to our hearts, 
 as brethren in one large embrace, men of 
 
278 
 
 all ranks, all faiths, all professions. — The 
 soldier and the priest; the protestant and 
 the papist ; the prince and the peasant : — 
 let us believe them all alike to be virtuous, 
 till we know them to be criminal, and en- 
 grave on our hearts, as the fi^t and noblest 
 rule of moral duty and of human justice, 
 those blessed words, 
 
 "BE TOLERANT r 
 
 I trust by my reference to the holy word 
 for advice and direction on this subject, I 
 shall have rescued it from the power of 
 those men, who by misrepresentation, have 
 laboured hard for its destruction. 
 
 When descanting on the evils of the stage, 
 they create a monster, a chimera, and 
 amuse themselves with combating it. — 
 They endeavour to alarm, bully, and 
 frighten by the constant reiteration of tre- 
 mendous words. — But from such lips, and 
 
279 
 
 in auch a cause, Hell, brimstone, and ever- 
 lasting torments evince verbosity without 
 intellect, and denunciation without terror, 
 We can apply to the uncorrupted source. — 
 From that source we can imbibe eom.- 
 fort and consolatioq, and fly to the fountain, 
 of grace for refuge from the indecent vio'f- 
 lence of beings, perverse, prejudiced, and 
 uncharitable. 
 
 My principal attempt in this feeble essay 
 has been to vindicate my brethren from the 
 odium bestowed on them by the design- 
 ing, in the first instance, and increased by 
 the unthinking and inconsiderate in 
 the other. With respect to the vehicle 
 itself, I have been anxious to prove that it 
 is not prohibited by those who had the 
 superior right of removing it from the list of 
 human inventions. I still profess myself 
 opeu to conviction with respect to its being 
 
280 
 
 congenial, or inimical, to the interests of 
 virtue and morality. I do not mean to 
 court controversy, for my own sake — No. 
 *— I hope to resign it into better hands. I 
 wish to excite the learned and ingenious to 
 the contest, with the strong belief and de- 
 sire of reaping considerable profit. But 
 had I the power to dictate, I would confine 
 the contending parties to the last century, 
 a space sufficiently extended to establish 
 the point. I would earnestly entreat them 
 to avoid broad, round assertions, provoking 
 nothing but spite and malice. I would de- 
 precate the idea of their taking shelter in 
 theatrical condemnations of ages past. They 
 may as well recommend the history of 
 witchcraft to determine the principle of the 
 air baloon. To wade through such stuff is 
 "a miserable waste of precious time, and 
 an enormous blasphemy against reason." 
 
 Among the modern objectors, some re- 
 
281 
 
 present the stage "to be at best but a 
 trifling am usement.'' Others say, "That 
 the play-house is the resort of the idle, the 
 yicious, and the dissipated." " That the 
 promiscuous mixture is a deplorable cir- 
 cumstance." 
 
 With respect to the first objection, we 
 trace its origin to persons, ignorant of hu- 
 man nature, as incapable of judging, as 
 they are of feeling*- Religious Utopians, 
 who would banish all amusements as agents 
 unworthy of participating in the reveries, 
 occupying their elevated minds, and dero- 
 gatory to the principles of their evangelical 
 seriosity. Had they not, in conjunction 
 with other enemies, subverted the intention 
 of a theatre, by abusing and depreciating 
 it, in the opinion of the million, it would 
 be found capable of much nobler efforts 
 
 * Vide page 140. 
 
282 
 
 than mere amusement. Still, even in that 
 humble point of view, its advantages are 
 great, for as the experience of ages has 
 proved that mankind must have their hours 
 of relaxation, where is the agent capable 
 of affording it in so exalted a degree? 
 The numerous enemies to the drama have 
 so completely abridged its utility, that very 
 few indeed are alive to its monitory effects, 
 or its purifying capability. A man maybe 
 corrected of an error in a theatre, as he may 
 be reformed in the church. In both in- 
 stances, there must be at all events — at- 
 tention and respect. But we are fre- 
 quently obliged to console ourselves with 
 the idea that we have sent away a careless 
 audience, at any rate not worse than we 
 found them. If I may believe the Rev. 
 Mr. Cookson, the same complaint is too 
 applicable to the churches. He says in his 
 Family Bible, "A preacher cannot look 
 around from the pulpit, without observing 
 
283 
 
 that some are in a perpetual whisper, and 
 by their air and gesture giving occasion to 
 suspect that they are in those very minutes 
 defaming their neighbours; others, per- 
 haps, to gratify the most unwarrantable 
 desires, have their eyes and their imagina- 
 tion constantly engaged in such a circle of 
 objects, that they never once attend to 
 the business of the place; some have their 
 minds wandering among idle, worldly, or 
 vicious thoughts ; some lie at catch to ri- 
 dicule whatever they hear, and with much 
 wit and humour provide a stock of laugh- 
 ter, by furnishing themselves from the 
 pulpit. But of all misbehaviour, none is 
 comparable to that of those who come to 
 the house of God to sleep." Acts xxi. 
 
 " The play-house is the resort of the idle, 
 the vicious, and the dissipated ;" so is every 
 Methodist meeting house in the kingdom, 
 as well as every other large assemblage. 
 
284 
 
 The idle, form an incorrigible class, posses- 
 sing no resources within themselves ; they 
 congregate in herds, with the dismaying 
 hope, each neighbour will assist the other 
 in the destruction of time and reflection. 
 I welcome them to the theatre, from the 
 strong persuasion that they are employing 
 their hours more rationally there than they 
 would in many other places. The vicious 
 and the dissipated we cannot preclude, nor 
 will I abandon the hope, (until I receive 
 proof to the contrary,) that we sometimes 
 are the agents to awake them from their 
 lethargy, and animate them to pursuits 
 more becoming the dignity of human na- 
 ture. 
 
 For those wretched unfortunates, over 
 whom reflection must weep, and for whom 
 morality must sic>h, whose vices delicacy 
 cannot conceal, nor liberality defend ; the 
 miserable fate of whom I would not myself 
 
285 
 
 aggravate by one wanton or harsh reflec- 
 tion ; — yet they have been the fatal cause of 
 furnishing our enemies with objections 
 against us, which they conceived irrefra- 
 gable, and accusations, unjust, as they are 
 illiberal. They charge us with encouraging 
 the crime, and increasing the number of the 
 guilty*. Yet reflection and enquiry would 
 soon convince them of their error. 
 
 *I have lately perused, with great satisfaction, an 
 excellent sermon upon the heinous crime of seduc- 
 tion. It was preached in behalf of an Institution 
 at once beneficial to the public, and highly honoura- 
 ble to the character of its supporters. But 1 must 
 confess, I was more than astonished to find our pro- 
 fession escape without an invective, particularly when 
 I considered, that the reverend gentleman is too apt 
 to wander out of his subject, for the express purpose 
 of— (I was going to say)— abusing us. But, what 
 was more gratifying, the appendix, containing a list 
 of unfortunate sacrifices to the depravity and cruelty 
 of man, does not furnish one instance of the deluded 
 
286 
 
 Let them investigate the numbers of un- 
 fortunates in our country towns, and they 
 will discover that they exist in an equal pro- 
 portion, in places where the Methodists, 
 the Evangelical, and the serious are pre- 
 dominant. Step out of our own Island, 
 and look into Holland, where the drama is 
 in a very humble state, and they will find 
 even licensed abodes for the reception 
 and accommodation of this much to be 
 lamented class. Even centuries before the 
 invention of the dramatic art, we find the 
 wisest man of antiquity describing the sub- 
 tle display of meretricious charms, and 
 shewing the degenerate Jewish fair not a 
 whit inferior in cunning to her frail sister, 
 in the enlightened regions of Christianity. 
 
 " For at the window of my house I looked 
 
 fair having been prepared for her degraded situation, 
 by her attendance upon a theatre. 
 
287 
 
 through the casement, and behold among 
 the simple ones, I discerned among the 
 youths, a young man void of understand- 
 ing, passing through the street near her 
 corner, and he went the way to her house, 
 in the twilight, in the evening, in the black 
 and dark night; and behold there met him 
 a woman, with the attire of a harlot, and 
 subtle of heart, (she is loud and stubborn, 
 her feet abideth not in her house ; now she 
 is without, now in the streets, and lieth in 
 wait at every corner.) So she caught him, 
 and kissed him, and with an impudent face 
 said unto him. I have peace- offerings with 
 me ; this day have I paid my vows : there- 
 fore come I forth to meet thee, diligently to 
 seek thy face, and I have found thee. I 
 have decked my bed with coverings of ta- 
 pestry, with carved works, with fine linen 
 of Egypt. I have perfumed my bed with 
 myrrh, aloes, and cinnamon. Come, let 
 us take our fill of love until the morning; 
 
288 
 
 let us solace ourselves with loves; for the 
 good man is not at home, he is gone a 
 lout; journey ; he hath taken a bag of money 
 with him, and will not come home at the 
 day appointed. With her much fair speech 
 she caused him to yield, with the flattering 
 of her lips she forced him. Her house is 
 the way to Hell, going down to the cham- 
 bers of death." Prov. vii. 
 
 I have endeavoured to establish, and I 
 trust satisfactorily, that the stage, even with 
 the impediments of beggary and contume- 
 ly, does not tend to vitiate the principles of 
 the professors; on the contrary, from the 
 instances I have produced, it has a tenden- 
 cy to improve their morals, strengthen their 
 fortitude, increase their stock of intel- 
 lectual acquirements, and render them eve- 
 ry way more worthy the support and appro- 
 bation of the wise and good. The influ- 
 ence the stage will, or may have, upon a 
 
289 
 
 nation at large, T humbly conceive can be 
 best known by taking a survey of the present 
 state of it through Europe. The profession 
 is received and adopted in England, the 
 United States of America, France, Italy,. 
 Spain, Germany, Holland, and Russia. In 
 the three first, it is rooted, fixed, encouraged, 
 and admired; — in the fourth, it is degene- 
 rated into sing-song and spectacle ; — in the 
 fifth, it is tolerated ; — in the sixth it is 
 warmly supported; — in the seventh it is re- 
 ceived with indifference;—- in the eighth, it 
 has a partial footing. In Sweden and Den- 
 mark, it languishes. In Turkey it is not to 
 be found. The state of learning, refine- 
 ment, taste, genius, and religion of each 
 particular nation, is pretty generally known. 
 Their virtues and their vices — their civili- 
 zation or their barbarism. I shall not 
 therefore trespass upon the time or patience 
 of my reader, by tracing its progress 
 through the ^different countries, or weary 
 U 
 
290 
 
 him with proofs of the influence it may 
 have had in rendering them great, or deba- 
 sing them in the scale. It is riot for rue to 
 determine, whether the people of each dis- 
 trict have reformed the stage, or the stage 
 reformed the people. I can only say, that I 
 turn witha lively gratification to the survey 
 of Europe, and I find those the greatest, the 
 wisest, and the most prosperous of nations 
 where the drama exists in vigour — where it 
 is encouraged, supported, and admired — 
 where the selfish efforts of the prejudiced 
 cannot destroy it — nor the malignant con- 
 demnation of fanaticism extirpate it! 
 
 I know it has heen urged as an argument 
 against the use of the stage, that even some 
 of its most strenous advocates are obliged 
 to recommend the necessity of strong 
 curbs, to check its improper progress. This 
 is futile to the extreme, the more powerful 
 the agent, the more imperious the necessity 
 
291 
 
 for curbs and checks. We must be aware 
 things salutary in their proper course, if 
 carried beyond their just bounds, degene- 
 rate into the most noxious and offensive 
 properties. Without a controuling power, 
 liberty is disgraced by licentiousness — love 
 by sensuality and voluptuousness — wit 
 becomes ribaldry — charity profuseness — 
 hospitality ostentation — religion absurdity 
 and philanthropy weakness. 
 
 Without a curb, there would always be 
 found abandoned poets, who would readily 
 place in a degrading point of view, talent, 
 honour, and virtue. 
 
 We need not go to the Athenian stage for 
 proofs, our own country will furnish us with 
 examples in abundance, to evince the 
 abasement of genius, in prostituting its 
 energies to spiteful invective and invidious 
 satire. And, as we know there are men, 
 
292 
 
 who, for their own private advantages and 
 their own selfish emoluments, will, under 
 the garb of religion, commit the most fla- 
 grant acts against simple morality ; so are 
 we convinced there are others, who, under 
 the shelter of the drama, would give the 
 most fatal stabs to order, decency, virtue, 
 and every thing precious to the common 
 weal. To guard against such intruders, 
 curbs become absolutely necessary. 
 
 The principal faults of our present stage 
 I conceive to originate from three sources. 
 Fust, from the illiberal opinions entertained 
 against the professors. Secondly, from the 
 inattention of the legislature to its stability 
 and support. Thirdly, the cold and more 
 than affected indifference of the learned 
 bodies to its progress and welfare. Let the 
 government watch over the stage that it 
 does not promulgate principles detrimental 
 to the grand interests of a well organized 
 
293 
 
 state. The patriot observe it closely, that 
 it breathes nothing hostile to the principles 
 of the constitution, or inimical to the genu- 
 ine pure flame of liberty. Let religion 
 condescend to mark that it presumes not to 
 infringe upon her hallowed rites. Let 
 morality keep a fixed and jealous eye upon 
 the vehicle, which can so materially aid or 
 injure her dearest interests; let the whole 
 combine to purify it from its errors, and 
 make it, as it was ever intended, the engine 
 of improvement, relaxation, and instruc- 
 tion. " To hold, as it were the mirror up to 
 nature, to show virtue her own feature, 
 scorn her own image, and the very age and 
 body of the time his form and pressure." 
 
 Above all, be banished far the ill-founded 
 prejudice against the professors. Let not 
 actor and dissipation — player and debauch- 
 ery — be considered as synonimous. Don't 
 enquire what he is? but how he conducts 
 himself, and there would soon be discover- 
 
294 
 
 ed as many valuable members composing 
 the theatrical fraternity as any other. 
 
 It would then be found histrionical pur- 
 suits do not vitiate the mind — nor the pro- 
 fession tend to the corruption of its princi- 
 ples. 
 
 From all T can collect upon the subject, 
 by reading, discussion, observation, and 
 experience, I feel myself authorised to 
 aifirm, that a well regulated stage would be 
 ever serviceable to mankind, an able assis- 
 tant to religion, a strong stimulus to mo- 
 rality, a rigid inculcator of virtue, a soother 
 and corector of the vindictive passions, a 
 moderator and promoter of the gentler 
 ones, and a powerful agent in the hands of 
 a wise legislator for forming a nation to eve- 
 ry thing 
 
 GREAT and GOOD. 
 
 THE END. 
 
UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
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