REFLECTIONS ON THE STAGE, AND Mr Collyer's Defence OF THE SHORT VIEW.  
In Four Dialogues.  
LONDON, Printed for R. Parker at the Unicorn under the Piazza of the Royal Exchange, and P. Buck at the Sign of the Temple at the Temple gate in Fleetstreet. 1699.   

TO THE Right Honourable Charles Montague, Chancellor of the Exchequer, etc.  
SIR,  
AS the dispute with the Stage is drawing to an end, so it seems to go off on Mr Collier's side, the greatest numbers have with him declared against a Theatre, and those who vindicate the Poets or their Writings, will with their best Argument, want the most powerful Protection to defend 'em from the partiality of the Public. Thus Necessity as well as Inclination, forced me to shelter these Reflections under your Name, that alone can influence the opposite party, to read any thing further on a Controversy, which they fancy is cleared entirely in their favour. However, there are none of 'em bold enough to oppose your Sentiments, and your opinion being against 'em they'll not presume on a Majority to stand out against Reason and Conviction. The Sovereign Excellence of your Judgement will prevail over Faction and Prejudice, and bring the most obstinate Enemies of the Drama to Temper and Moderation. The Beauty of your Genius will make 'em ashamed of their Malice and Ignorance: and when we talk of you they'll readily agree with us, that the Muses even in this age, have produced some things both useful and pleasant You'll pardon me, Sir, that while I have your Picture before me, I only view those perfections which are most agreeable to my subject. That I avoid looking on what is great and wonderful, and turn the prospect to what is mild and- lovely. That I forbear mentioning those extraordinary Qualities, which have rendered you the Glory of your own Nation, the admiration of others, and under his Majesty's Courage and Conduct, the best support of the Government, in its most pressing exigencies. That while with many millions I feel the benefit of your Ministry, I omit paying you those acknowledgements, which every true English man owes your prudent Council, and happy administration in the high Station to which his Majesties Wisdom has advanced you. The fears which restrain me from pursuing so tempting a Theme, will to you be the least criminal part of this address though to the World they would be inexcusable, but that 'tis expected from better hands, who are more capable to do it Justice, though no man can be more willing than,  
SIR, Your most humble, and most obedient Servant, J. Oldmixon.   

THE PREFACE  
MR. Collier fancying by the success his Book met with, that his Arguments were unanswerable, and that no body would venture to attack him, should he go on with his Views of the Stage or the Poets, has left off all measures in the Defence of his first Book, shown himself in the colours others painted him before, and discovered as much arrogance as could be expected from one of his extraordinary resolution. He uses indeed the word Ceremony with a great deal of affectation, has been furnished with some expressions which look like good breeding; yet though he boasts so much of his manners, he very seldom puts 'em in practice. If he has been plentifully railed at in Print, 'twas because he, and not the Poets was the Aggressor, and had he not been proof against just Censure and true Raillery, he would have him down his Arms; at least been on the defensive part, but he makes a new bustle, values himself on his noise, and bewails the silence We suffered under a great while, 'twas our fault We began with them no sooner. Who he means by We, his Readers are at a loss to guests, nor can they imagine how he became privileged to use the Royal Style, but he will be free with Dignities, 'tis his misfortune, and he rather deserves pity than blame for't. He says, some of the Stage Advocates pretend his remarks on their Poetry were Foreign to the business, and certainly they have good reason for what they pretend. If the Stage is not capable of amendment, why such care to inform the Poets how they may write better? I think they might have spared their Complaints against his Criticisms, they are so weak and impertinent, that I never heard of one Person who has been convinced by 'em. 'Tis true, he happened on those Plays which are most liable to exception, but has made so little use of his opportunity, that his Adversaries need not be afraid of his Judgement, for the hurt he can do 'em is as little to be dreaded as the mischief Mr— s Farces, the Amphytrion, Love in a Nunnery, Caesar Borgia, and Limberham, have or shall do the Age; those things being read by as few People now, as Mr Collier's Books will be ten years hence. He has shown the delicacy of his Taste, by the pieces he chose to work on; they were little better than Rubbish before, Mr Collier has nicely found out some Places more dirty than others, which is very meritorious, and he ought to be proud on't. His friends should have advised him to have omitted his Remarks. His Profession, the particular squeamishness of his Conscience, might provoke him to war with the Lewdness and Profaneness of some Comedies. 'Twas Commendable in him to begin to reform the Drama, and there was scarce an Author who professed Writing that way, who had not declared for't. Religion had been so much exposed, that the Pit itself began to be disgusted. Those who had any shame, blushed at the treatment Virtue met with from our pitiful Writers; 'twas Mr Collier's good Fortune to cry out first, and he had been much more Happy, if instead of declaring for the extirpation of this sort of Poetry, he had touched on those faults which were really such, and not made some passages (innocent in themselves) guilty, by the meaning he put on'em. If he had directed those Gentlemen who are capable of diverting and instructing the Age, to the means of succeeding, and not blackened 'em as much as lay in his power, without the Ribaldry of Billingsgate, to render 'em incapable of profiting or pleasing, by giving the world a mean Idea of their Wit, and a frightful account of their Morals. If he had done this, who would not have applauded the attempt? On the contrary, he falls on their Intellects, and dissects their Plays, Examines 'em as much as he could like a man of Art, and as zealous as he is for the cause of Religion, he could not hid his Vanity, and was not satisfied with being thought a good Christian, unless the Town would believe him a Wit and a Critic. It must be agreed with the multitude, that he has some claim to the first of his Pretences, but I question if any body who has the least acquaintance with the Bell's Lettreses, can imagine he is at all qualified for the last. A man that writes so irregular a stile himself, is not likely to amend another's Language; and certainly there never appeared a Book on such a Subject, which he designed, to refine as well as regulate the Theatre, that in all Countries has been esteemed the standard of Eloquence, Crammed with such rough periods, and huddled together with so many incoherent Metaphors. I mention this, as little as some may think it to the purpose, because many have mistaken the brisk turn of his sentences for a lively Wit, and his much Eloquence for a fine way of writing. This but not a little assisted him in the success his Books found, and the approbation some men of sense once gave 'em, and if that part of his Books which is most cried up is in these Dialogues proved to be that which least deserves it, we may hope he will not long deceive the people with his Elegance. The Dialogue is made use of, being to be managed with more freedom than a regular discourse, and these Chapters containing nothing but what another might have observed, had he read the Short View and the Defence with the same application; 'twas not thought necessary to be very exact in the form, those of his objections which relate to the sense of Antiquity, and its authority, are answered by a person whose Learning and good Sense, will doubtless be more than a match for Mr Collier's. If he is dealt with somewhat freely, let the Readers, especially those of 'em who are extremely nice in Civility, remember, that 'tis Mr Collier who gave the first ●●oke, who, though he is mightily for distinguishing 〈◊〉 by their Professions and Quality, has never been scrupulous how he scandalised his Adversaries; he has fallen on the men, when he should only have attacked their Poetry, a sort of usage he condemns them for with respect to the Clergy. He seems very Jealous of his honesty, and one would think it being so tender a point, he should not have made the same errors in his Defence, which he was charged with in the Short View. 'Twas reasonable to hope there would have been none of those miscitations and unfair deal his Complainants urged against him, and to which he has, 'tis true, said something, but so little to the purpose, 'tis Charity to call it so. He triumphs on the Victory he has obtained over Vice, and the helps he has given Conscience and Modesty by his discovery of the danger of a Stage. He has indeed a peculiar Talon for setting Smut off to the best advantage, and making some of our Licentious Writers speak more obscenity than they ever was guilty of. If the world are obliged to him for this, and his endeavours to ruin their finest pleasure, by pretending 'tis fatal to their Virtue, they ought to give him public thanks, and take care by their large Collections and Contributions, that he may have no reason to repent his opening his Mouth in their service. But the best and most valuable part of the Town have other sentiments of his Performance. They know well enough there were other reasons for his speaking at last, not quite so generous as he represents 'em; and can see, that though perhaps he succeeded in his Chief End, what he made subservient to it, was nothing but pretence, as will be demonstrated in the following Pages; and the Reader is desired to be favourable to the General Charge made against him in this Preface, since the particulars will be proved on him hereafter. I should now give the Characters of the Persons introduced in these Dialogues, but I have observed that in these cases men are used to mean of themselves all that they say well of their fine Gentlemen; and the World have been too much surfeited with this piece of Vanity. I rather choose to leave my persons and their reflections to the Candour of the Reader, who will use 'em well if he thinks they deserve it, if not, all that I can say for 'em will do them little service.   

The first Dialogue.  Savage and Bevill. Bevil. 
COme, Sir, you shall not put me off, we have time enough, and I'll know what you have to say against Mr Collier's Defence. If his Short View displeased you, this last Book sure will have a better fortune; it has not been published above a Fortnight, and we are already threatened with a second Edition.  Sau. 
It may be so, and his argument not one jot the stronger. I have known an Heroic Poem bear three Impressions, and lose as much by the fourth, as it got the Booksellers by the other three; but this is little to the purpose. The Stationer often makes his advantage of the weakness of the people, yet time and good information have at last been fatal to his Interest.  Bev. 
Ay, ay, you Critics make the weakness of the people the reason that the Booksellers grow rich, and when your own, or your Friends Writings are condemned by the present time, you put us off to futurity. Truth, I know not why we should not judge as well as our Children.  Sau. 
Your Children will be impartial and biased by no faction; had not Mr Collier's Book been supported by a numerous Party, the fallacy of his argument had appeared long  this.  Bev. 
Prithee who has Mr Collier to support, him? and what could have raised him such a Character, if his Cause had not been good, and his allegations against the Stage just? You know how his misfortunes had rendered him obnoxious to the Kingdom, yet he has worn off the prejudice people had against him, by his generous undertaking, to reform our pleasures, and performing it with so much wit and judgement.  Sau. 
There were several men of sense that once liked the design and his management, who, when they saw what he would insinuate at the bottom, the entire ruin of the Theatre, examined him more curiously, and were as much disgusted with his Short View as myself. The Defence can't pretend to the same reasons to please as his first Book, this was a Quarrel with Vice, and that only with those who attacked him. Whatever his first aim was, his second is, I'm sure, liable to exception; and we may speak on't the more freely, because 'tis not to vindicate the Immorality of the Stage, but the Merit of those who writ for't, when they really deserve well from us.  Bev. 
You would be Mr— s Champion, and defend his Farces against Mr Collier, and all that oppose him.  Sau. 
No, not against all that oppose him, 'twould be difficult to find any who admire his Plays, and I amed willing to set myself in opposition to the whole World.  Bev. 
Then Mr Collier was in the right to make his remarks on him.  Sau. 
The world, perhaps, are in the right not to admire that Gentleman as a Comic Wit, but Mr Collier showed little acquaintance with the subject he treated on, when he entered the List with Mr— The Town is ready to give him up to his resentments, and will be obliged to him, if he will undertake what no body else thinks worth their while, to make him ashamed of his Scriptions.  Bed. 
He took Sir.  Sau. 
So did— who in time has found out what his Genius was most capable of, and confesses by his practice, that nature designed him rather for a Tailor than a Poet.  Bev. 
Well, what have you to say to the Relapser? has not Mr Collier showed himself a nice Critic on that Author, and exposed his Poetry more than his Morals.  Sau. 
He has found out indeed that his Play should not have been called the Relapse, because Lovelace and Amanda are persons of Inferior consideration. He forgot sure, that this was designed as a second part of Loves last Shift, where those persons are the top Characters in the Play, and perhaps he has mistaken both the Fable and the Moral. Why mayn't the Fable be a continuation of that in the Fool in Fashion, where Lovelace and Amanda are the chief of the intrigue, and the moral be to show, That when persons venture too much on the sincerity of their conversion, and fly too presumptuously into temptation, they expose themselves to the danger we see Lovelace in, and their Wives to a Revenge which the strongest Virtue is only a Guard against. This is the most reasonable, as well as favourable Examen can be made of the Fable and Moral. Young Fashion, 'tis true, employs a great part of the Plot, and breaks the Unity of Action, but that's all.  Bev. 
And enough of Conscience, grant that you allow what Mr Collier says.  Sau. 
Not at all. He has examined the Play according to his opinions, given a Fable and a Moral to an Action, which is only an irregular episode of one more Important, and runs out on this into several heads against the Author's Conduct, which his Friends can't think a fair way of arguing; for his Fable and Moral are not the Fable and Moral the Relapser designed, and consequently Mr Collier is answerable for Ignorance, or what is worse.  Bev. 
Are not the Unities broken?  Sau. 
What then, the Unities may be broken, and the Author never the worse Christian. I hope the Divine will not for his own sake make it a sin not to be a Critic. What had Mr Collier to do with the Unities, his business was with the Moral, he mistook it wilfully or ignorantly, and the sentence he passes on the Relapse, is of course illegal. Nor (to continue the Law Phrase) should the Readers, who are the Judges, give Judgement where there is such a flaw in the Indictment, and that much more considerable than a Misnommer.  Bev 
I see you will never agree with the public, nor approve any one that has not got his reputation by the assistance and recommendation of the Wits in Convent Garden. Had Mr Collier railed at their Lewdness, and let their Wit alone, his Adversaries would not have resented it, but their Poetry must not be touched. You, I perceive, are of their opinion, and can't bear that an Interloper in Criticism should make such discoveries.  Sau. 
They are strange ones I own, such as none but himself would have thought on; but to show you that I am not one of that singularity of taste which you accuse me for, I agree with the multitude in some things, and yet at the same time disagree with Mr Collier.  Bev. 
How so?  Sau. 
I think Mr Congreve has a great deal more Wit, good Sense, and even Learning than the Author of the Short View, at least of that part of Learning which a man would desire to be master of; and that most of what he has said against him in that Book and the Defence is groundless and malicious.  Bev. 
What are there no Profaneness and Immorality in his Plays, no abuse of Quality, nor faults in Decency, no Nonsense, nor Extravagancies, which a man of Wit, good Sense and Learning ought not to have published?  Sau. 
We have very few men of sense that have not in some measure or other been guilty of all these accusations, the humour of the Age has tempted too many of 'em to please it sometimes against their Judgements, and perhaps their Consciences; but Mr Congreve has been as little culpable in this as any man. Mr Dryden, I hear, confesses his errors, 'twere pity to deny him that Liberty. Mr Congreve, on the contrary, pleads not guilty, and the world is to determine who is in the right, he or his accuser.  Bev. 
If you leave it to the world to judge between 'em, I know what will become of your man of Sense and Learning.  Sau. 
It may be you will find yourself mistaken, Mr Collier will not have so many Advocates for his Defence as he had for his Short View, and Mr Congreve has diverted the Age too much to fear they will not hear what he says for himself. His Adversary gins to make it a personal Quarrel: he fancied that if he stuck close to his first Principles, he might not be able to encounter a person who had so long been the favourite of the Town. And therefore as often as it lies in his way, he has struck at the Man, his Morals, and Understanding.  Bev. 
Sure he has said nothing of him which he could not find in his Writings.  Sau. 
He has however Insinuations and Inuendoes, which might shock some credulous people, and make 'em believe Mr Congreve guilty of such things as he himself was afraid to name. Whatever Language he uses, I own, 'tis not Billingsgate, yet Rogue and Rascal are less hurtful than Scurrility, coloured as handsomely as some sort of men, artful in abuses, can paint it.  Bev. 
You say he has abused him, and accuse Mr Collier of abundance of errors; but where's the proof?  Sau. 
Here, I have his Books by me, His Short View, and the Defence, and if I thought it would not tyre you, we would examine the last together.  Bev. 
No fear of that, Sir.  Sau. 
The Controversy, 'tis true, gins to draw towards an end, and those of both Parties, who were at first most warm for or against the Theatre begin to cool.  Bev. 
The Playhouses don't find it so, their Audiences lessen apace, and their Whims can hardly draw Company enough to pay their Charges.  Sau. 
Their Whims have done 'em more hurt than Mr Collier's argument.  Bev. 
I have been otherwise informed.  Sau. 
If you think so read the Defence, and I'll endeavour to convince you that whatever you have been informed, 'tis impossible for a sensible man to think ill of the Stage, from what he has said or can say on the subject. Come, before 'twill be time to part, we may go a great way thro' his last Book, we'll take no notice of the first, but as we can't well avoid it. If you read it, I'll stop you where I have any thing to object.  Bev. 

Def. p. 2.  Agreed. Had these obnoxious passages lain hid in a Learned Language.  Sau. 
I perceive Mr Collier's Conscience had not been troubled, had the Smut been in Latin. He supposes (and considering his Ceremony is very Civil to the Age) that no body then would have understood 'em but himself. He is a little too covetous of what he rails at so much. Certainly Profaneness and Obscenity are as guilty in one Language as another. But Mr Collier seems so fond of those Passages, that he would have none share in 'em but himself, could he help it.  Bev. 
This is Malice, he tells you, 
Def. p. 2.  he would rather unchain the Tiger in Bartholomew Fair.  Sau. 
Yes, and I'm obliged to him for his Metaphor, and that fine expression of disobliging the Paper a line or two lower.  Bev, 
But since the Reader is directed to the Evidence, he may disappoint 'em in this evasion if he pleases.  Sau. 
That is, if he'll read and understand 'em as he meets with 'em, or as Mr Collier did: 
P. 15.  And not read a Page for a Period, but to take his Liberty and argue with a Question. Are there not some passages which depend entirely on what went before 'em, and on the Character of the persons who spoke 'em? How can a man judge of the thing but by the Character? and all that ever writ have made the persons they introduce, speak according to their Characters. Has not Milton in the best and most Religious Poem that has been writ since our Saviour's days, made his Devil say of God Almighty?  Sole reigning holds the Tyranny of Heaven. 
And who, that should light on this Verse, would not think the Author guilty of horrid Blasphemy, unless he read what went before, and considered who spoke it. 
View p. 96.  Mr Collier says, that no pretence of Character or Punishment, could justify Profanesness on the Stage, and by his arguments against treating some Blockheads of note like what they are, or showing a lewd Fellow as he is ridiculous, one may be sure he meant that such Characters ought not to be exposed. But Pere Bossu is quite of another Opinion, I have his Book before me, and I'll read you his own words, which you shall have translated if you can't perfectly understand 'em. He is talking of the justness of Character; 'tis true, his subject is Epic Poetry, but this part of the Chapter relates to Character in all Poetry; and he is known to have been a good Man, as well as a great Judge, and the gravest and moralest Critic, that has treated on this affair. Cae qùe nous disons ici n'est pas pour Exclure du Poeme ce que La Morale Condamne, Vn Poete ne doit Jamais donner de mauvais Examples mais il y a bien da la difference entre un mauvais Example & L'Example d'une mauvais e action au d'une mauvaise e personne. Les Lacèdèmoniens ne pretendoient point donner de mau vais Examples a Leurs enfans quand pour Les eloigner de L'yvronerie, ils Leur mettoient devant Les Yeux, des exclaves quills fa isoient evyurer express. Il est donc permis au Poete demettre, des Achilles, & des Mezences, comme des Ulysses, & des Enees. Il peut representer La prodig dite, & L' avarice comme La Liberalite & La Just economy d un bon menager & d'un honete Bourgeois. Mais quoi qu' il fasse. Ou pour la Vertuou pour le Vice, ou pour quelque qualite indifferent il doit au moins Savoir ce qu'il fait, non Seulement parce qu'il lui est honteux de l'ignorer mais parce que cette connoissance Le fait agir a●e● beaucoup plus de justesse. Which is in English, as near as I can render it. What we have said is not to exclude every thing out of a Poem which Morality Condemns. A Poet ought not to give ill Examples; but there's a great deal of difference between an ill Example, and the Example of an ill Action or an ill Person. The Lacedæmonians did not intent to give their Children ill Examples, when they set their Slaves whom they made drunk on purpose before their Eyes, to deter 'em from Drunkenness. A Poet is permitted to show an Achilles or a Mezentius, as well as an Ulysses or an Aeneas. He may represent Prodigality and Avarice, as Lawfully as Liberality, and the just oeconomy of a good Husband, or an honest Citizen. But whatever he does, whether for Virtue or Vice, or any other indifferent quality, he must know what he is about, not only because 'tis scandalous for him not to know it, but because this knowledge will make him manage himself with much more justness. Thus we see Bossu would not have been displeased with Dorax's Rant in Don Sebastion.  

View. p. 65.  Shall I trust Heaven  
With my revenge, then where's my satisfaction?  
No, it must be my own, I scorn a Proxy.  
He would have considered this Bully was a Renegado and a Mezentius in point of Principles, though this is not so outrageous as what that Atheist says in the last Moment of his Life.  Nec mortem horremus, nec divum parcimus ulli, Nor fear I fate, but all the Gods defy. Vir. Eneid. Dried. transl. 
This judicious Critic, though a Christian and a Divine, is not so scrupulous as to throw such lines as these out of a Poem, When he knows the Character of the man that spoke 'em. Manuel in the Mourning Bride is a wicked Prince, and as Mr Collier says, swaggers in these Heroic lines.  
Better for him to tempt the rage of Heaven,  
And wrench the Bolt red hissing from the hand 
Def. p. ●●.   
Of him that Thunders, than but think such Insolence,  
'Tis daring for a God.  
But Bossu would have excused this Sally when he found him punished; 'tis true, 'tis not immediately for this, but 'tis for his Crimes in general, and his Lust and Pride being two of the greatest, our Adversary ought not to have imputed his punishment only to his Tyranny. There are worse passages in Milton's Paradise lost than any Mr Collier has quoted from the Stage Writers, yet none ever pretended to blame Milton for Profaneness. We may have occasion to say more on this matter hereafter. So pray read on.  Bev. 

P. 2.  The profane part though bolder and more black.  Sau. 
Why not more bold and more black, or bolder and blacker? but this is nothing, here's a Sentence, which for its Eloquence can hardly be matched in Cicero. Sometimes this profane part is a Picture, than a Criminal, than an Adversary, and then a Disease, and in the compass of five lines Mr Collier is both a Painter and a Judge, a Champion and a Physician.  Bev. 

P. 3.  You may understand his meaning.  Sau. 
It must be as the Proverb says then.  Bev. 
For which I have said that Fondlewife 's, etc. is a fit of buffonery.  Sau. 
To say this of a Character is certainly of the Author in Mr Collier's way of expressing himself. He says the Plot and no Plot swears at length. I suppose few will question but he means the Author of the Plot and no Plot, in the Play he has called so. For who else is this Plot and no Plot that swears so (as our Author very assumingly affirms without ground or instance) and is so scandalously Smutty and Profane. 
Pref. to Def.  He says he may be excused for breach of manners, because he speaks it of Fondlewife, and not the Author. Why then won't he excuse the Author's familiarity with Quality in other places, since he does not design to affront the Character, but to expose Folly and Extravagance.  Bev. 
But which way do I call 'em Slaves? Why, because they were free. 
Def. p. 4.   Sau. 
This is wonderful, 
P. 16.  and worthy the arguments which follow. Is liberty then always fastened to a Chain, and familiarity a proof of servitude. He puns on his own words, and then reasons on his pun: A very extraordinary way of arguing.  Bev. 
His remaining instance from my Preface is much like this. 
P. 16.   Sau. 
His words are, these men sure (having named the Stage Poets just before) take virtue and regularity for great Enemies; and a little further, like Foot-pads, 
Pref. to Short View.  they must not only rob but murder. You may see now how unanswerable the remaining instance of his ill-breeding was, and consequently how just his answers were to the others, and thus make a judgement of his extreme Ceremony.  Bev. 

Def. p. 4.  Railing is an unchristian Talon.  Sau. 
Mr Collier calls every thing that's against him railing, and bad imputations. But satisfied with his own sufficiency, he's not in the least disturbed with 'em, and at once condemns 'em all as without colour or truth. The severity he has been treated with, was what his own ill Language provoked; and he should not have blamed such a way of answering Books, unless he had used another in the defence.  Bev. 

●ef. p. 8.  But granting Mr Congreve his definition.  Sau. 
Which every one is ready to allow, except our adversary, who will make Aristole as well as our Stage Poets speak what he pleases. He affirms the translation of 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 may as properly be the common, 
Def. p. 7.  as the worst sort of people. Mr Congreve had provided against his exception, by explaining his construction a little after from Aristotle himself, but 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 〈◊〉 will serve as well the other way; 〈◊〉 is, 
Def. p  if Aristotle, whether he will o● no, shall say what Mr Collier would have him, which neither Aristotle, nor his Interpreters, nor the Critics who have writ after him ever intended. Comedy is an Imitation of the worst sort of people, and the Vulgar being most liable to err, they are the fittest subjects for the Poet; but when Quality levelly themselves with the Vulgar, by being guilty of the same Vices, they expose themselves to the same satire. Comedy meddles not with Persons of the degree of Marquess', while they maintain their native Dignity, but when they fall from it, and stoop to the weaknesses of the multitude, she thinks they are lawful Prize, and may freely make use of 'em. This Mr Collier very generously allows: For, he says, granting Mr Congreve 's definition, 
P. 8.  Covetousness, Profusion, Spleen, Singularity, well managed might possibly do; forgetting that he has all along aimed at the destruction of the Stage in general, and proving by I know not what sense of Antiquity that it ought not to be suffered under any regulation. Thus we see Mr Congreve's first postulate is far from being false in the Generality stated by him. 
P. 9   Bev. 
I never thought you would defend Mr Congreve's Postulata.  Sau. 
He desired those who would not allow 'em to forbear reading his Amendments, they were laid down with such caution, and used so seldom, that 'thad been barbarous to deny him so small a request, which indeed was but Justice. His adversary has shown that you shall get nothing of him without hard blows. Well, let's go on with him.  Bev. 
I can't but take notice of his saying that the business of Comedy is to Delight as well as to Instruct; 
P. 9  if he means as much by as well he is mistaken.  Sau. 
How if he does not mean as much by as well who is mistaken then? I doubt a Gentleman in whom 'tis no new thing to mistake. Mr Congreve says a little after, that ill men are to be laughed out of their Vices, that others might be at once warned and diverted at their expense. 
Amend. p. 8.  He puts the Instruction first, and when he says, fools are to be laughed at, 'tis to make 'em ashamed of their faults. The reproof is the end. However, all sorts of Poetry ought to please, as Horace tells us, Et prodesse●● Volunt & delectare Poetas, And again, Omne tulit punctum qui miscuit utile dulci. Hor. If so, certainly Comedy ought, which is to ridicule people out of their errors and follies. 
Rapine Reflex. sur le Poet.  A great modern Critic has told us, that Poetry is agreeable only to render it useful, and that Comedy, which is an Image of Vulgar Conversation, corrects the public errors by showing the ridiculousness of private. The same Author adds, that since Poetry is so much the more useful, by how much the more 'tis agreeable, the business of this art is to please, l'importance de cette art est de plaire. And in his Reflections sur l' Eloquence, speaking of the difference between the Pulpit and the Theatre, he says, 〈◊〉 ●haire ne doit pas estre comme lae Theatre ou l'un ne va que pour le plaisir. The Pulpit ought not to be like the Stage, where men go only for their pleasure. Racine in his Preface to the Tragedy of Berenice tells us, that to please is the principal rule, lafoy principal regle est de plaire; and if 'tis so in Tragical, 'tis much more so in Comical representations. That the end of Comedy is to please, none will dispute that know any thing of this matter. Some have thought Pleasure its chief design, these, though the greater number, are to be sure in the wrong, as much as those who fancy Pleasure little requisite towards rendering it useful. No Comedy can be profitable that is not pleasant: What reason then had Mr Collier to Insult on Mr Congreve's meaning as much by as well, had he desired to be understood, so, which 'tis plain he did not. And 〈◊〉 but one who was resolved on any terms to make him in the wrong, could have mistaken him here? however, he triumphs on his Success, and very arrogantly assures us, Mr Congreve's first rule signifies little. We have seen the contrary, and his second then does not fall of course. 'Twou'd be indeed hard if you should think a Poet a Fool or a Cuckold because there's a Fop or a Jilt in his Play. If the Poet draws his own Picture, he is always so favourable to himself, as to throw his likeness into the draught of the fine Gentleman: What he says he ought to be accountable for, there he does his best, and if he errs 'tis an error in the Character. What the Coxcombs and Scoundrels are guilty of, let their Originals answer for, and take care to give no more occasion for such offence. Mr Collier is very well read in Mr Dryden's Prefaces, and one would think should have been kinder to the man from whom he learned the best part of his Criticisms.  Bev. 
Mr Congreve 's fourth Postulatum. 
Def. p. 11:   Sau. 
Hold, what says he to the third, that relates particularly to himself? 
P. 5.   Bev. 
Nothing, I suppose, he thought it below him; he had said before, all he shall say is, he pities the men, and despises their malice.  Sau. 
Very Philosophical! However, you'll find him I believe hereafter, and as little to the purpose as if he had finished here.  Bev. 
You can't allow of the fourth Postulatum.  Sau. 
I think that is most exceptionable. Scripture phrases ought not to be used in ridiculous things; and perhaps this is the greatest fault our Comic Writers have been guilty of. 'Twou'd be easy to amend these errors, and very hard to starve two or three hundred Families, because Jehu is called a Hackney Coachman.  Bev. 

P. 14.  And put him under the circumstances of Contempt. I shall now go back to his third.  Sau. 
To be put under the circumstances of Contempt is a very happy expression, and I believe copied from Crack in Sir Courtley Nice, who says he is under the circumstances of a sweat, and under several other such circumstances. The remarks we made on his answer to the third proposition, will serve as a reply to this.  Bev. 
I remember you said something more satisfactory a little before, when he directed his Reader to the Evidence. 
16. 17.  Well, here are Pages for you, can you urge any thing against these.  Sau. 
Mr Collier thunders against the Licentiousness of the Stage in his way, but his Pathetic is only tautology, the same thing over and over in short Sentences. 'Tis his manner when he is, or fancies he is in the right, he uses his Adversaries unmercifully, and like Cowards at an advantage, beats 'em on the Ground.  Bev. 
I have done with Mr Congreve 's Preliminaries, 
P. 18.  and shown the unreasonableness of 'em. If he demands 'em as a right, his Title is defeated. If he begs 'em as a favour, he should have petitioned another way.  Sau. 
Very pithy and modest.  Bev. 
1. This Expedient is not always made use of. 
p. 19   Sau. 
A thousand and Instances could be given to the contrary; and there is scarce a Play whose end is not moral and instructive, 
19  let there be never so many errors in the Poem.  Bev. 

P. 20  2dly, These comprehensive lines do more harm than good.  Sau. 
That is sometimes. This expedient is not always made use of, he divides well, and without doubt has studied Dr Eachard's Contempt of the Clergy with application.  Bev. 
But here's an instance of an uncourtly and vicious ending in the Old Bachelor, which, according to Mr Collier encourages lewdness.  Sau. 
As much as that in Love for Love. 
The miracle to day is that we find,  
A Lover true, not that a Woman's kind.   Bev. 

20.  This last word is somewhat ambiguous, and with a little help may strike off into a light sense, etc.  Sau. 
We have to do with a Gentleman who is very charitable on these occasions, and can help a man out at a dead lift, as well as any one. Who, without Mr Collier's assistance, would have taken Not that a Woman's kind for Bawdy? Yet he is not satisfied with his charge, but accuses the Verses for want of weight and apothegm? when he has struck 'em off into another sense, I question not but they would be more weighty.  Bev. 
A Ballad is more licentious.  Bev. 
If by sententious he means sentences, he has made a very merry reflection; for we have no less than three important sentences in this Paragraph, extremely full of Apothegm; here you have another taste of his Eloquence.  Bev. 
When a Poet has flourished on an ill subject, larded his Scenes with Smutt, played his jests on Religion, exhausted himself upon Vice.  Sav 
A fine parcel of Metaphors.  Bev. 
Pray let me go on, don't interrupt me before you have heard the whole period. What can a dry line of good Council do.  Sau. 
You may discover what a relish he has of good Council, by the epithet he puts to it, a dry line or two would stick in his Throat, and nothing be so easily swallowed as what went before it.  Bev. 
Pure spite, o' my Conscience. 
P. 22.   
Thus when the greatest part of Quality are debauched on the Stage, 'tis a broad Inuendo they are no better in the Boxes.  Sau. 
I protest against his Inuendoes, I mistrust his Conscience would be quiet enough, if a man in a much higher case was condemned by an Inuendo; but such things are not legal now adays, and no man, as Mr Collier himself can witness, suffers without proof.  Bev. 
I answer, the case is not parallel.  Sau. 

P 22.  You shall judge of that, he says, in his Short View. There are but four Ladies in this Play, and three of the biggest of them are Whores. A great compliment on Quality, 
P. 12.  to tell 'em there is not above a quarter of 'em honest. Mr Collier, by the way, has taken care to engage the people of Condition to appear on his side, by pretending to procure 'em a privilege from satire. The Aldermen and Country Justices are biased by the Enclosures he has made for those inferior Magistrates, as if 'twas any affront to my Lord Mayor or Court of Aldermen to show one of their Brethren may be a Miser, or an abuse of Magistracy to think a Justice of Peace a Blockhead; those who have any converse with the Country know such things are very much in nature, and that there are but too many instances of the other in the City. Our Adversary has secured the Clergy to himself by blazoning their Scutcheons. The married people, by railing at the affronting 〈◊〉 Matrimony, and the unmarried by telling the world that Love is a paltry passion.  Bev. 
You forget the Parallel you promised me.  Sau. 
If three of Mr Cognreve's Ladies out of four are Strumpets, and Mr Collier makes this observation immediately, A great Compliment on Quality, 
P. 22.  to tell them there is not above a quarter of them honest: is it not the same as it four women were shown upon the Stage, and three of 'em were vicious, that thence we must conclude three parts in four of the whole Sex stark naught. What he says in excuse, that the representation in the Double Dealer turns more on Condition than Sex is false. Neither is it the Quality which makes the appearance. The sentiments in all cases mark the Character, and point out to the Comparison in manners. If a man speaks or acts like myself, and he's reproved for't, let his Quality be what it will, I should think myself concerned.  Bev. 

P: 24.  You are in the rignt thus far; but how will you excuse Mr Congreve for saying, Women do more harm than good?  Sau. 
Mr Collier says that Mr Congreve quotes it from Aristotle, and Mr Congreve owns the same: adding the authority of Bossu after him; and sure he will not blame that Gentleman for following two such Critics.  Bev. 
His precedents from Virgil are unserviceable upon two accounts. 1st, The fact is misreported.  Sau. 
We shall now have another opportunity to make a Judgement of his Modesty and Learning. He says the fact is misreported. But who is it that happens to be so little acquainted with Virgil? Why no less than the famous Bossu, that has been allowed by universal consent to understand him the best of any Critic that ever writ on him; and he gives more Examples than Mr Congreve has quoted from Virgil, to show how much oftener you find the women in the Eneids under ill Characters than good ones. However, Mr Collier tells us, Creusa and Laimia are perfectly passive, Anna a very innocent Princess, yet she is in the Cabal with her Sister Dido, the Nurse and the Witch, who contrive the destruction of Aeneas and his Trojans; besides a great many other qualities which would render her innocence suspected to any one else. Then as for Camilla, why is she thrown into the black Pit? For the same reason as Creusa and Lavinia, and that is because they all occasioned a great many misfortunes to the Hero. Camilla particularly bore arms against him, and there might be more said for the throwing her into the Lift than the other two. Bossu informs us, Virgil designed to show the Sex that War is not their Trade, and to expose the Levity of Women when he brought her into the field; adding a little farther, that this Levity made her forget her Dignity, the care of her person, and was followed by several accidents of ill consequence; and tho, as Mr Collier affirms, she stood firmly by Latinus, yet her engaging in an ill cause, in opposition to so pious a Hero as Aeneas was ground enough for making her keep company with the rest in that black List; if we will believe Virgil and Bossu before our resolute Adversary, who assures us so daringly that the fact is misreported. He is very fond of telling of Noses, and proving Pere Bossu in the wrong, for saying Virgil had but too exactly followed Aristotle's thoughts in his Poesy; that there are more bad women than good, and that they do less good than harm. But if he goes to polling, he'll perceive he had no occasion for his first and second account, how Mr Congreve's precedents from Virgil are unserviceable. 
24.   Bev. 
Mr Congreve countenances an Author in his misbehaviour.  Sau. 
Speaking of Aristotle and Bossu very familiarly.  Bev. 
And makes his court thus awkardly to the Ladies. 
24.   Sau. 
Mr Collier is not always to be taken at his word; we have Mr Congreve's Amendments by us, pray let's see how he countenances 'em. He says, In an Epic Poem Ladies of Quality may be used as Aristotle pleases, but Comedy was meant to compliment, and tickle, and flatter, 
Amend p. 27.  and all that. Is this countenancing the Philosophers.  Bev. 
No, the quite contrary: 'Tis strange Mr Collier should misunderstand him.  Sau. 
I think 'twould be stranger if he should not, for he'll understand nothing which is not for his purpose; are not his dapper Sentences against Mr Congreve's breeding very fair dealing, and must not this be a very Honest Man, as well as a Just Critic.  Bev. 
The satire of a Comedian and another Poet have a different effect upon reputation. 
P. 25.   Sau. 
By the satire of a Comedian he means the satire of a Comic Poet has a different effect upon reputation. Yes, and because it has so, Comedy is much more useful for satire than any other kind of Poetry. If 'twas allowable in Juvenal and Persius to expose men of Quality, 'twas in order to correct their follies, and reform the Age. Now since (as Mr Collier owns, in twenty sentences one after another, to express the same thing) the Eye is much more affecting than the Ear, that certainly is the most commendable and profitable satire which obtains its end soon. All satire is Abuse which does not design Instruction; what touches a man's reputation nearest is most likely to amend him; and sure one ought not to be afraid of Instructing a fool, for fear the world should have an ill opinion of his understanding. The Ancients made so little account of this, that they did not stick at showing their Actors in Masks, representing the Persons they brought on the Stage, and calling 'em by their names. This would be outrageous in our times; our Comic Poets have always disguised the Originals of their Copies so much, as was necessary to make 'em see their defects, and not be disgusted with the Picture, because too singular. Their Characters, whoever gave occasion for 'em, have always been general, and if a Fop has been styled a Lord, every body knows that the Author did not make him a Fop because he was a Lord, but made him a Lord, to show a man may have a Title and not deserve it. The French have done the same, so have the Italians and Spaniards, who understand Punctilio better than Mr Collier. Racine brings a Countess on the Stage in his Playdeurs. 'Tis a character much like Widow Blackacre's, and I think he ridicules her enough, when he makes her answer to a Gentleman who asked if her Law Suits were over.  
Monsieur tous mes proces alloient estre finis  
Il ne m'en restoit plus que quatre ou cinq petits  
L'un contre mon maris l'autre contre mon pere  
Et contre mes Enfans.  
They are near being all concluded, and I have only four or five little ones depending, one against my Husband, another against my Father, a third against my Children, etc. Racine has not treated her Ladyship very ceremoniously, and whatever a Marquis is, sure a Count, and consequently a Countess, is as high a Quality as our Baron.  Bev. 
His testimony from Rapine does not come up to the French. 
P. 27.   Sau. 
Whatever he says of Rapine or the French Authors, will have very little weight with me, I am pretty well convinced he knows little of their Plays or their Language, or he would not have printed such blunders as you will find in what he says on the word Marquis.  Bev. 
Now notwithstanding Mr Dennis 's Exclamation, 
P. 27.  a Marquis in France is much less than a Marquis in England, or Baron either.  Sau. 
Here again, this Gentleman's modesty and ●eading may be called in question, because he is so positive, you will excuse me if I am the more particular in vindicating what I say. I took some pains with him in this matter, and some days since put my thoughts in writing. I'll read it to you, and so we'll defer considering him any farther till we meet next.  Bev. 
I shall not have patience to stay longer than till to morrow, and since you have your Books about you, we'll meet in the same place, and I'll give you a new trouble.  Sau. 
I will not think it any, especially if I can satisfy you that Mr Collier is not what he pretends to be, nor his arguments what some good men have taken 'em for.  Bev. 
I want to know what you have said about his French Marquis, for he seems very sure of his being in the right.  Sau. 
He is always so, and generally as much out as he is now. To excuse himself for his error of making a Marquis in France, a Quality much less than a Marquis or Baron in England, he tells you, 'tis pretty plain from Moliere himself, who in his l' Impromptu de Veesailles, makes Brecourt say to a Marquis, Mon pavure Marquis Je te promet Marquis, which way of speaking Mr Collier affirms is not manners unless in Equals or Inferiors. Now every one that reads that Play, will find he's used with such familiarity, to show the freedoms his Foppery exposed him to. Moliere made him a Coxcomb before he allowed the Character to be treated so uncivilly; and who thinks himself obliged to be nice with a Fop. He knew very well how far a man of his quality might be dealt with so freely, without breaking in on decency. This, I suppose, will not be disputed. Then for his Authority, to prove the quality of a French Marquis below our Marquess' or Barons, he says Dorante in another Play treats one of 'em with terms of Equality, and Climene calls him Monsieur Dorante, is made a Gentleman of good sense, and the Marquis, like the generality of his quality, one of an affected taste in Poetry, who thinks Wit and a Title inseparable, but suffered himself to be imposed on, by persons that Criticised on every thing without Candour or Judgement. No wonder then that he uses him as his Equal, in a dispute where he knew Self his superior, and saw the Marquis led away by Fools; and sure every man of Wit that is a Gentleman, would be as free in England on the same occasion. The French give the stile of Monseigneur to none below a Duke, unless his Post otherwise demands it. This is frequently seen in Balzac and Voiture. Balzac writing to the Marquis of Montnasier styles him Monsieur, but after his advancement to the Government of Alsace, his address is Monseigneur .. Mr Saint Euremont in a Letter to the Duke of Buckingham, Superscribes only a Monsieur de Boquinquam, though the French stile all their Bishops Monseigneur; and 'twas not to make a particular Compliment to the Bishop of London, that they call him My Lord, for 'tis no more than they do by all their Prelates, as well as his belov'd Bishop of Arras, which any one may find in Voiture or Balzac. However, 'twere easy to prove him in an error, from the French Academies, or Richelet's Dictionary; Richelet says on the word Marquis.  
That formerly this word was taken for a Captain of some Frontier Garrison.  
But lately 'tis a Lord, who takes place next Princes and Dukes.  
Besides, what Rapin's sense of Molier's meaning was, is agreeable to ours; for Rapine, says the Poets, formerly brought only Servants on the Theatre for their Buffoons. But Molier's be Marquess' and men of Condition. They only exposed the manners of Citizens and Common people. Moliere all Paris and the Court. Mr Collier very wisely remarks, that Rapine did not say toute la Cour, all the Court, neither did Moliere ever pretend to expose 'em all, though he spared none of 'em as they came in his way. Rapine opposes all Paris and the common people to the Court and Gentry, and not, as Mr Collier says, the Country Conversation to the Court: For no body but our Adversary would have understood Vn Bourgeois, 
P. 29.  for a Countryman, nor Lavie Bourgicose, for Country Conversation. But the Citizens who live nearest the Court, were like our own, apt to make awkard imitations of their politeness, which the Poets used then only to ridicule. But Moliere took his Fools wherever he found 'em, either in Court or City, which are commonly opposed to one another. 
P. 29.  Mr Collier concludes, that if after all Rapine has given Moliere more liberty than he took, 'tis well he modestly said if he has done so; for none that have read either one or the other, can charge him with making Moliere speak what he never intended, which is more than we can say in this case, for the Gentleman who has so grossly mistaken him.  Bev. 
Good night, Sir, Mr Collier I find is not always infallible.  Sau. 
Adieu till to morrow.  The end of the first Dialogue.  

The Second Dialogue.  Savage, Bevill. Sau. 
I See you are a man of your word, and punctual to your appointment.  Bev. 
I should indeed be to blame if I broke an assignation of this nature: had it been only to drink a Bottle, I might have had as bad a memory as the rest of our good Fellows.  Sau. 
Have you thought of our last Conference, does Mr Collier win or lose in your opinion?  Bev. 
If so many excellent persons had not declared for him, I should think worse of him than I do, but 'tis hard to oppose one's self to the general sentiments of mankind.  Sau. 
You are afraid to be thought singular, and have not courage enough to own a good cause when it suffers under the censures of a majority,  Bev. 
However, if you come off this time as well as you did yesterday, I shall be emboldened by my conviction to think as I please, and not be prejudiced by the partiality of the public.  Sau. 
You will get something by the Dispute, if it breaks you of your easiness in that point, and makes you see with other Eyes than those of the multitude, or if you will learn from your favour to Mr Collier, not to be kinder to a man than he deserves from you, because his reputation is general, and fame has done too much for him.  Bev. 
We left off at the 30th page of the Defence, if you please I'll read on.  Sau. 
With all my heart, I have gone once more thro' the whole Book since I saw you, but in hopes of satisfying your scruples I'll endure the hearing on't again.  Bev. 
That must be a great condescension to one who has so little an opinion of the Author.  Sau. 
I should be ready to do Justice to his merit, if he had not been so over favourable to himself, that he has left no room for moderate praise, and I think more is not his due.  Bev. 
Well, let's try that by his writing. I can't think it any excellence of good manners, to expose the Nobility in their Robes.  Bev. 
And when did he ever see a Nobleman brought on in the Figure he makes in the House of Peers. 'Tis the Lord in the Chocolate House, or a Visit where he acts the part of a private man, unless that he distinguishes himself from the rest by his affectation and folly. Mr Collier stretches every thing beyond the measure the Poets give it, and uses his old way of confuting those he opposes, makes 'em mean what they never designed, and then lashes them for their meaning. I have given you other examples of this trick of his before, and demonstrated, I suppose, pretty plain, that if a Lord and a Fool grow together, he must be shown as a Monster; and the rather, since his Quality makes the figure the more ridiculous.  Bev. 
I had nothing to do with his Verses.  Sau. 
Pray let's see what these Verses are he has nothing to do with.  
Let secret villainy from hence be warned,  
Howe'er in private mischiefs are conceived,  
Torture and shame attend their open birth:  
Like Vipers in the womb base treachery lies,  
Still gnawing that whence first it did arise,  
No sooner born but the vile Parent dies.  
No, no, Mr Collier has nothing to do with such Verses as these. These are very Moral, and conclude a Play, and what is more a Play, which he has blackened as much as possible; he has nothing to do with the good things in our Comic writers, he did not go to the Playhouse to hear any thing but smut, and as Informers frequented Conventicles, only to impeach 'em, his ears were shut to such Lines as these, but he listened with attention to what was naught.  Bev. 
And that I still say is foul in the Image.  Sau. 
We know Mr Collier too well to expect he should recant his errors.  Bev. 
What says this Lord Touchwood, which is still censured as foul in Image, embarrast with trifling Epithets, and ill suited to the Character.  Sau. 
We'll see the Amendments. Oh, 'tis Lord Touchwood's Hail to the Bridegroom. The Bridal night is a time, when the nicest Tongues speak with less caution, than at other times, and Mr Collier had said before, that Lord Touchwood was a Pedantical Character; Be each others comfort, let me join your hands, unwearied nights and wishing days attend you both, mutual Love, lasting Health, and circling Joys, tread round each happy Year of your long Lives. The Phrase is Poetical, and consequently suited to the Character of a starched Coxcomb pretending to Politeness, and I fancy Mr Collier would have wished 'em Joy in some such Language; but where's the Smut? where are the trifling Epithets? is any thing trifling which marks the Character the better, or is it not natural for a man to be in some transport on those occasions. 
P. 30.  With our Adversary's help, this might be struck off into Bawdy, but as spiteful as he is, 'tis not in his power to make it Nonsense. 'Tis very humorous to hear him talk of trifling Epithets, and embarrast Characters, when his Language is so full of the one, and his Sentiments of the other. Which puts me in mind of the Whore's Exclamation, Lord, to see the impudence of some women.  Bev. 
If it be so, I think the Play was not worth the Candle.  Sau. 

P: 32.  Nobly expressed: he has a great faculty at translating Proverbs. You may see how this Gentleman spends his time at the Theatre, when there is no Smut or Profaneness in the way, 'tis doubtless in gaping on the Sconces. Mr Congreve said in his Amendments, If there be Immodesty in this Play, I must confess myself incapable of writing any thing with Modesty. It may be so, says Mr Collier, an ill custom is very hard to conquer with some people. Here he exerts himself, and shows that he's the very abstract of civility. But he forgot that Mr Congreve had said the same thing to her Royal Highness the Princess in his Dedication. To convince your R.H. that a Play may be with industry so composed (in spite of the licentious practice of the modern Theatre) as to become sometime an innocent and not unprofitable entertainment. This was said in another presence than Mr Collier's, and the honour her R. H. showed this Play afterwards, is a very good reproof to his insolence: Let any one read the Page he quotes from the Mourning Bride, and then examine our adversary. Is not the fury of a disappointed Lover, that on the morrow expects to hear his Rival has his Mistress in his arms. Is not this enough to transport him to madness?  Bev. 
Was it worth his while to be thus Crazy?  Sau. 
This is not the first time Mr Collier has shown his spite to Love, his Books demonstrate he has been ever a stranger to that passion in any of its branches: and no wonder if what Osmin says is Jargon to him. Who can see that Scene, and not be touched with it? Which few men of sense are with the mad Scenes of Lee and his Imitators, that, to use Mr Collier's words, smell rank of Bedlam.  Bev. 
O my Almeria!  
What do the damned endure but to despair,  
And knowing heaven, to know it lost for ever.  Sau. 
Lovers in these cases are always allowed to talk extravagantly; our devout Poets have aimed at it in their writings, and if they have not said things as wild as this, 'twas because they could not. Mr Norris in a paper of Verses on some parting Lovers says, Eden is lost, the rest's but commom ground. And a little after, I envied none below, scarce those above. Which I think as inexcusable, as what Bellmour says in the Old Bachelor, 
Can you be content to go to Heaven.  
B. Hum— not immediately, etc.  

Horris Misc.  But ah Hypocrisies no where so common grown,  
As in most sacred things, Love and Religion,  You may be sure I don't remember these Couplets for their Poetry, only to show that some Reverend Authors have had other thoughts of Love than Mr Collier, and not been so over careful how they compared it to Sacred things, as he is.  Bev. 
Thus the little success of Love are equalled with the Glories of Heaven, 
P. 34  and a Paltry Passion.  Sau. 
Is not the comparing of a Lover's parting with his Mistress, to our first Parents losing Paradise, every whit as extraordinary. Here you have another fling at Love: I'm afraid if the Adversary ever felt it, he was not used very tenderly; for whatever the matter is, he can by no means give it a good word.  Bev. 
Better for him to tempt the rage of Heaven. 
Mourn. Bride.   Sau. 
The Poets all along in these places, have allusion to the Pagan Theology; and though the Scene lies in Christendom, yet the Cant distinguishes what Divinity they mean to wrench the bolt red hissing, etc. would be Nonsense if 'twas said of any other Deity than Vulcan and Jupiter. Yet Mr Cow whose story is Copied from the Bible, in his Davideis talks worse, Cow who has been so much admired by those who do, and those who do not understand him, for his modesty and virtue.  
Davideis 1st Book.  Nay their God too— for fear he did. 
And again, he makes Envy say a little below this, 'Tis not thy God himself shall save thee, Boy.  Bev. 
I come now to the vindication of the Poetry.  Sau. 

3●.  And here he complains that there's no antithesis in wasting air, I ever thought Mr Collier fond of that figure. 'Twas easy to be discovered by his manner of writing: Lafoy Bruyere has told us what sort of men make use on't, which suits exactly with the maturity of his Genius. Les jeunes jens sont ebb lovis de l'ec lat de l'antithese & s' en servant. Young men are dazzled with the lustre of an antithesis, and are fond of using it.  Bev. 
Besides, the word is almost worn out. 
37.   Sau. 
This is not only false but unreasonable; we can't put a better in its place, and there's not a polite writer, who has not used it when 'twas proper, as 'tis certainly here to express something wonderfully soft.  Bev. 
Commenting on his own blunder. 
37.   Sau. 
A thing Mr Collier practices perpetually, page the 9th, 24th, and 17th, and almost every page in his Book.  Bev. 
On this occasion a little singularity in the Expression was not unseasonable. 
35.   Sau. 
'Tis always unseasonable to be nasty.  
This Litter of Epithets makes the Poem look like a Bitch overstockt with Puppies, and sucks the sense almost to skin and bone,  
Is indeed a singular expression, but Mr Collier is very particular in every thing that relates to decency.  Bev. 
The Epithets likewise must be smooth.  Sau. 
He is a great master of Style, and has a fine ear to judge of the cadency of Periods; in the next page you find in 30 lines 9 Questions and 17 Sentences, which you know is Ciceronian. Such a sort of Rhetoric becomes the Pulpit well enough for an ordinary Auditory, and I believe by his dwelling on things so long, in many places, he forgot he was not near his Cushion.  Bev. 
This was a shrewd Question, but Questions are easily started.  Sau. 
So it seems, when we have 9 or 10 in the same paragraph, which ends with that fine piece of raillery.  Bev. 
That I have quoted him falsely, I deny, his immodesty forced me upon this method; he is often too offensive to appear; to have shown him to the Reader had neither been civil nor safe.  Sau. 
Ay, pray read this again, for his breeding and good nature triumph here.  Bav. 
Why then does he find fault with this reservedness? is he sorry his indecencies are concealed, and grown proud of his misbehaviour?  Sau. 
Here's manners with a witness, such lines as these must be writ in a scurvy place; he might have Candle, but I believe the Room was not extremely illuminated, the Paper would else have appeared too much blotted. If he has not quoted him falsely, he has misrepresented him, which is every jot as ●ad 〈…〉 Touchwood's case, and 〈◊〉 there's neither Smut in the 〈…〉 smut nor any thing out of th●●●●racter in the other, which he 〈◊〉 him with, and then exclaims ag●●n●● him. We shall have opportunity to prove more such unfair 〈…〉, before we have done with the Defence.  Bev. 
He would do a little more good first, 
42.  i. e.—  Sau. 
Away with that i e. I beseech you, we'll have none of Mr Collier's Interpretations, who knows but Belmour might mean he would live and grow better, this is nearest the Original, and if our Adversary had not come in with his helps, it might not have been hit off into Profaneness. Mr Congreve owns the expression light, 'tis so in Mr Collier's mouth, and Belmour certainly designed that some should take it one way, and others another. We know then which way Mr Collier's kindness to the Author will understand it, and shall say no more on this.  Bev. 
What his disease was, I am not to inquire, but it must be a very ill one.  Sau. 

42.  He might have put in his significant P— and saved himself the trouble of so delicate a turn. 'Twou'd have been more natural in him: one can see he bitten his lips, and longed to be plain in the matter. Here's a proof of his decency, for which Mr Congreve and his Friends ought to own a great obligation to him.  Bev. 

44.  I reply in the first place, that my disproof of his second Postulatum cuts off his retreat to this excuse.  Sau. 
What he said to it was, that it must fall fall of course. If Comedy is to correct Vice, it must expose it, and how can a vicious man be exposed but by his words or actions: now to make him act his wickedness, would be to restore the Infamy of the Pantomimes, and the Poets have no other way of discovering him, but to make him talk loosely, suitable to his Character. A man must not be punished on the Stage for nothing. A lewd Fellow must act his part as far as decency will permit, that he may suffer for't in the end, and as long as he keeps to nature with this restriction, the Poet can't err. Perhaps Mr Collier would confine the Stage to show nothing but Foppery, I question if so much good would be done then, as there might be by exposing Vice. A Fop is harder to be reformed than a Rake. He thinks his affectation a peculiar. Talent given him by Heaven, and values himself on his singularity, while a Scoundrel blushes at his own Picture, and consequently is the likelier to be converted.  Bev. 
2dly, she is not discovered in her lewdness. 
44.   Sau. 
She is not discovered in a posture that would convict her in a Court of Justice at least, that would once have convicted her. Mr Collier I see would have been so much a Gentleman, as to have taken no notice on't, had the thing gone so far.  Bev. 
She makes no dishonourable Exit. 
44.   Sau. 
I don't know what notion he has of honour. She was in a fair way of being found out by her Husband, and if she comes on no more, 'twas because she thought she had gone too far already, and was ashamed to appear, and any one but Mr Collier would have thought this Exit very dishonourable.  Bev. 
No ill in't, that's strange.  Sau. 

45.  We ought to take the Gentleman's word for his own meaning, he says he meant no ill by the Allegory, and if so, the freedom is the more excusable; however, allusions to Scripture may be better avoided.  Bev. 

●d Batch 48.  And Adam sure would with more ease abide  
The Bone when broken, than when made a Bride.  Sau. 
Mr Collier says this is an admirable comment on the Old and New Testament, but at the same time owns it copied from Absalon and Achitophel; if so, let those answer for't, who invented it.  Bev. 
I'll tell him for once.  Sau. 
If 'tis any thing material, I'm sure 'tis the first time, and I fear will be the last, pray let's have it; why might not Jehu have that as well as any other Jewish or Christian Name?  Bev. 
He says he'll tell you, if you'll have patience to hear him. 'Twas never the Custom of Jews or Christians to take any Scripture names from exceptionable Persons.  Sau. 
We very seldem hear of a name twice in the Old Testament, whether exceptionable or not, and if the thing required it, I suppose 'twould not be difficult to prove him in an error here too; 'tis a trifle, and we shall say more to him about his Jehu by and by.  Bev. 
No man I believe ever heard of more than two Jehu's.  Sau. 
That's strange indeed, I know a very honest Gentleman, who I'm satisfied will not be ashamed of writing his name, because Jehu in the Text was a Charioteer. If he gives himself the trouble of riding to Colebrook, he may be better informed of this matter, and I know no more reason why Jehu the Hackney Coachman should relate to Jehu the Charioteer, than Jeremy the Parson to Jeremiah the Prophet. This dispute is very whimsical, and what is not common, Mr Collier himself is at last ashamed on't?  Bev. 
Inspiration without Epithet is always taken in a religious sens● 
P. 50   Sau. 
Not always, 'tis used 〈◊〉 ●●ly in a Poetical sense, and tha● 〈◊〉 ●bjects not very Christian, 〈…〉 impulse from a Deity, which 〈…〉 know nothing of. However we'll not fall out with him about a word: Let him have the honour of detecting something of this nature, to put that facetious story of the Lady in the Wheel-barrow in Countenance.  Bev. 
The little word Still is left out in the Quotation. I grant I have by chance omitted the word Still.  Sau. 
Perhaps not by chance.  Bev. 
And if he had done so too the sense had been perfectly the same, 
P. 52.  only better expressed.  Sau. 
I confess Expression is his talon. Let us try if the Sentence can stand by itself without the little word Still.  
Tho Marriage makes man and Wife one Flesh, yet it leaves 'em Still two Fools.  
Mr Collier should by Chance have omitted quoting the sentence at all, before he had so presumptuously said the sense had been the same, only better expressed: does not this imply with the Still.  
That if two Fools join themselves together in Wedlock, there are small hopes of their growing wiser by it.  
And without the Still.  
That though two persons are made one Flesh by marriage, 
P 52.  yet they are made two Fools for it.  Bev. 
That's only when two Fools meet, which is exactly Mr Congreve in his Amendments:  Sau. 
And the exact meaning of the words, they'll bear no other, unless poor Still is taken away from 'em. Mr Collier has read those worthy gentlemen's delicate raillery in their Animadversions on this Still, and to show you that he is good Company, when he meets with men to his mind, be laughs as loud as they, and joins in with their plentiful mirth. Such conversation may be proper for him, when he is writing against the Theatre, but I am not so much his Enemy, as to wish him no better always.  Bev. 
One would think by his writings he had digested ill Language into a common place. 
P. 57   Sau. 
I believe our adversary has so good a memory for such things that he needs no helps to it, the dispute is about Whoreson appetites, in which he thunders out against Profaneness. I don't know what signification Whoreson has with appetites. Mr Congreve put the words into the mouth of a Footman, and the sense of 'em is more exceptionable than their Blasphemy. The fellow intended to give his wicked Lusts an ill name, and the Author let him hit on that first; but take it as he pleases, a man sure is not obliged to Compliment his Lusts with fine Epithets, if he does otherwise I can't understand how 'tis to Blaspheme the Creation.  Bev. 
Well, what say you now to his charge about Solomon.  Sau. 
You know I have protested as well as he against using Phrases which might be thought to be borrowed from the Bible, whether with or without design, but this is a fault which our Poets would have been cautious of, if Mr Collier had not urged it against them, the best of 'em had resolved not to please their audiences at the Expense of their Testament.  Bev. 
A shrewd contrivance to put a man out of his wits for Variety. 
P. 63.   Sau. 
If he knew any thing of contrivance, he would not have ridiculed this. Valentine thought this trick would have assisted him in getting his Mistress and imposing on a cruel Ignorant Father. While he was acting the part of a Lunatic, he might say those truths which he could not have said so handsomely in his perfect senses. The variation of the Character had a very pleasant effect, and if the Adversary is his friend, he will not hereafter condemn a man for not being always tied up to sense, and confined to his understanding.  Bev. 
By your own confession you must be against Valentine's saying I am truth.  Sau. 
Had Mr Congreve used the words he designed at first, it had given less offence.  Bev. 
Advanced to my third Chapter concerning the abuse of the Clergy. 
P. 65.   Sau. 
If there were ever any such Clergymen in being as Spintext and Prig, I believe the Poets may make use of 'em without offending the rules of Decency or Religion. No body would have the worse opinion of a truly pious Divine, if they saw the late Parson of Croyden lashed for his abusing his office. Neither will any one have the greater deference for the Gown, because Mr Collier demands it so haughtily. The same reasons which I gave for bringing Quality into our Comedies, will serve for those who scandalise the Ministry. If any person makes himself the Subject of satire, let him suffer for't to deter others. And a Poet must know little of his art if he can't expose the men without affronting their office, though they must be shown to be what they are, that others may the sooner think themselves concerned in the reproof. 'Tis plain enough Mr Collier stands up so much for the Clergy, to make a party among 'em to support his pretences; and he designed without doubt to begin the War (which some of those, who deserve least from the Laity) long to see declared against 'em. The Laity have encroacht too much on their Learning, and this province has lately been too much neglected by many of their Gown, by which mean 'tis hardly now to be recovered out of the hands of those who have made such large acquisitions in it. 'Tis impossible for a man of Letters to respect very much a person, merely because he wears a Cassock, to which he has no other title than the Bounty of his Patron. Let Mr Collier think what he will of Mr Congreve and our best Poets, they honour the memory of the late Archbishop, Dr Tillotson, more than himself, and some that we might name. They have learned from him most of the proficiencies they make in Language, which they are ready gratefully to own. Bp Stillingfleet, Bp Burnet, Bp Patrick, will ever be esteemed in this and all ages for their Piety and Learning. And who of our present Bishops are there, that for their exemplary Piety and Learning, don't demand as much honour, as for the Seats they hold in the House of Peers. The sherlock's, the Halleys, the Birches, the Wakes, the Maninghams', the Atterburys, are names which will be reverenced by all futurity, as well as in our days, by every one who loves good sense and true erudition. These are indeed the Glories of our Nation and Religion, and their Merit and Virtue blazon their Escutcheons better than Garter or Stones. Such men will be as unwilling to dispute Precedence, as any man of breeding would be to refuse it 'em. They will never want a Herald to authorise their claims, and can never appear any where but with Lustre. For their sakes the whole order live in the esteem, which is inseparable from their function. Yet the Cluers, the Jones, the Hickringils, the Cooks, the Snetts, and some more we could mention, will always be distinguished from such men as these; and let 'em protest as much as they think fit against satire, they will perpetually feel it. If their defects or vices are not too scandalous to appear. Is not a Parson incessantly embroiled in Litigious Suits with his Parishioners for Tithes? another at All-fours at his Clerks, another shamefully making unlawful Love to his Neighbour's Wife, another plotting against the Government, and encouraging Sedition, another reeling to his Vicarage from a drunken Patron, another starving his family for a spend thrift heir, another ridiculing the faith he preaches, or profaning the name we adore; another sullenly setting his Neighbourhood at variance or foolishly talking or writing on things he does not understand, to show his reading? Are not these subjects for the Poets, or other more important satire?  Bev. 
You are answering Mr Collier before I have read him.  Sau. 
You'll find nothing in him more than he had said before, till you come to the 74th page; and I believe unless you have any objection to what I assert, you'll not be pleased with his argument, though 'tis notably divided.  Bev. 
However, I'll read it.  Sau. 
With all my heart; in the mean time I'll look over Moliere's Preface, to his l' Imposteur, which we may have occasion for hereafter.  Bev. 
I think Mr Collier says, the Poets are not to be judges of the failings of the Clergy. 
P. 68   Sau. 
They may judge those who are arraigned at their Bar, and punish 'em their way, as well as others, for Sottishness, Cowardice, Extortion, or any other Vice which the Law takes cognizance of. A Poet can't set a man in the Stocks for being drunk, nor break an Officer for being a Coward, nor fine a man for Extortion, neither can he pull the Gown over a disorderly Parson's ears; but, if he can, he may make 'em all ashamed of their faults, by showing their Characters ridiculous. Let a Clergyman be a Fop or a Rake, a Pedant or Coxcomb, he is accountable in the Poet's Court for his Lewdness and Folly. Their punishment is to expose him, and in many cases the Law can do no more, sometimes not so much.  Bev. 
I am come to the 74th page, and would fain know what you can reply to his 1st, 2d, 3d, and 4th answers to Mr Congreve, who says, that if Kings may be exposed, why mayn't Priests. 
A●end. 72.   Sau. 
'Tis not my way to run divisions on an argument, but I think his answers are all of 'em sophistical. He says, Kings are willing to be disciplined, but the Church is brought on the Stage against her consent. I deny that the Church is brought on the Stage, or that ever a Priest was shown there to affront their whole Order. The Church is not guilty of Hypocrisy, Drunkenness, Lewdness, Covetousness, Faction, nor any of the Vices which some of its worst Members are ridiculed for. Every body distinguishes an idle Vicar, from a pious and awful Convocation.  Bev. 
This is the same thing you said a little while ago.  Sau. 
A man that answers Mr Collier, will be obliged to repeat a great many things over and over, as he does, or the world may think him in the right in one place, when they had condemned him in another.  Bev. 
2dly, Stage Princes are used agreeably to their station. 
75.   
3dly, If Princes were used as ill as Priests.  Sau. 
They would without doubt be very angry, and the Poets are not to be blamed for being more afraid of a King's frown than Mr Collier's. Whatever Mr Congreve is for, his Adversary 'tis plain, is for levelling. If a Gentleman who takes Orders does not lose his Place with his Title, I hope that of Clerk is not equal with Majesty. Gentlemen are used as freely, and much more so than Priests, guilty of the same disorders, though the Quality is the same. If a Justice of Peace is made a Coxcomb or a Blockhead, I hope 'tis of no consequence that the Prince who gave him the Commission is affronted, for 'tis not possible that a King should know any thing of the person he entrusts, who perhaps never did, nor never will see the Court, but by information, wherein Interest and Party may be concerned: neither is the Ordinary abused by showing one of his Clergy a Fool: Kings and Princes are never brought into Comedy, no more are Bishops; these being the heads of the Church, and those of the State, are alike forbidden to be profaned by Comedy; to strike at them would be to strike at the foundation of both Church and State: but their Subjects and Inferiors, of all other ranks, when they can be ridiculed without offence to the State, or Religion have been and may be exposed. Mr Collier perhaps would be well enough pleased if a Parson was brought on the Stage, provided a Herald went before with his Coat of Arms, and made room for his appearance in figure, with a good grace, and a lofty mien, like the Cardinals in Caesar Borgia; he would not much value how wicked they were made, provided the degree of Clerkship was maintained; and yet the Poets have managed themselves so warily, that they never dealt with any of 'em above a Vicar or a Chaplain. The Bar-Gown has often been played with, and shown in a more despicable figure, yet the Lawyers don't think it worth their while to cry out against Comedy, as aiming at the ruin of the Courts in Westminster-hall, and the Judges themselves have desired Love for Love, with all the faults Mr Collier has laid to its charge, to be presented 'em, and were extremely well pleased with their entertainment, though the Lawyer there makes a trivial appearance.  Bev. 
His pretence of matter of fact is not true. 
76.  Princes have complained of the Theatre.  Sau. 
This is not the first fling he has had at the Theatre, in this Book, which aimed at its entire destruction; he forgets what he said in the 8th page, or was sorry for his tenderness. Now he tells you, Scipio pulled it down, Trajan and Antoninus discouraged it, Tiberius banished the Stage, Lewis the Godly would not endure a Playhouse, Queen Elizabeth often checked it. Now these were most of them great Princes, and which is more to the purpose, most of them good ones too. Thus says Mr Collier. And let any one guess if he insinuates any thing less than the shutting up the Playhouse doors for ever. Mr Congreve's assertion may be easily vindicated. We never read of any great Prince who complained of the Theatre itself, some may have corrected the Corruption of some of the Poets and Actors of their times. The greatest Princes that ever lived have always encouraged the Drama; this is so evident, that History is full of the Examples we might instance on this occasion. Alexander the Great was so passionate an admirer of Sophocles and Euripides, that story tells he learned their Tragedies by heart, and sung an Episode of the Andromeda of Euripides at his last Banquet. Pompey was at a prodigious expense to erect a Theatre, and to show that he was not the more soft or more effeminate for his love of pleasure, 'twas at the same time he was enlarging the Roman Empire, and perhaps contriving to make himself her Master. His Rival Julius Caesar has shown what a value he had for Plays by the Tragedies he writ himself, and the fine encomium he left on Terence: Whom as great a Scipio as he who pulled down the Stage is said to assist in writing his Comedies. Augustus' particularly favoured the Theatre, and those who wrote for't; his affection for Maecenas, the Patron of the Stage, and one who honoured it with his own pieces, and his intimacy with Varius, is an unquestionable proof of this. If Lewis the Godly, and some other Christian Princes could not endure Plays, they had betters reasons for't than Mr Collier imposes on 'em. The Entertainments which in those days were shown on the Stage, were such stuff as might well offend the ear of a Prince less bigoted than he was. If our adversary is acquainted, as without doubt he is, with the wit of those times, he knows their Plays were strange pieces, and not easily endured. The Holy Father at Rome has often smiled on the Italian Poets. The honours Petrarch, and afterwards Tasso received from him, show that Infallibility could countenance some Wits, whose Muses were not the Chastest that ever appeared. If those Authors have left few Dramatical pieces, 'twas because the Stage was not quite recovered out of the Gothick ignorance, which had obscured it for 1400 years. If Queen Elizabeth put down the Booths, and forbidden the Drolls in Grace-church-street, she encouraged those Authors who writ the regular Plays, and gave Poets and Actors considerable Pensions. 'Tis said too, that she translated herself several Tragedies from the Greek, which is demonstration enough that she was a Friend to the Theatre. Mr Collier himself knows the only Royal Martyr that has honoured the Christian Religion with his sufferings for these thousand years, was very kind to the Stage and the Poets, who were concerned for't, not to mention his Sons, whose Memories I'm sure are dear to Mr Collier. His present Majesty, when he has been at leisure to divert himself from the great Affairs of Europe, has commanded several of our Comedies to be presented him by his Servants in England, and has seen Racine's Tragedies in Holland with satisfaction. And all the world knows her late Majesty of Glorious Memory, was very favourable to the Theatre, honoured it often with her Presence, and rewarded bountifully some of our Comic Writers. Besides, the Drama has been encouraged even by Commonwealths as well as Monarches in Athens, let Mr Collier say, what he will of the Sentiments of that Republic, spent more Money in the decorations of her Theatre, and in rewarding those who succeeded there, than in all her Wars, if we may give credit to Plutarch, who you will allow as good an authority as the Short Viewer, etc. Neither did this wise people, as a learned Author comments on Plutarch, believe their Expense unprofitable, since 'twas to inspire their people with notions conformable to the public good.  Bev. 
You needed not have said so much to prove what you design by this argument; 'tis most certain, Princes in all ages have been generous to the Poets, and most to those who have pleased 'em on the Stage. There are very few exceptions, and those not worth naming, to Mr Congreve's general Assertion, that Kings never complained of the Theatre or the Poets. You say nothing to his 77th and 78th pages.  Sau. 
I thought you were satisfied with what I replied before, when I endeavoured to demonstrate, that a Clergyman might be made ridiculous in public if he is so in private. Mr Congreve never intended to take away the common right of the Clergy; he only quoted Mr Hales to show the difference between some Clergymen and others. Such as Mr Hales will meet with no occasion to have their privilege pleaded, but such as our Adversary, who will be sure to justle themselves into their places, must expect some rubs in their way.  Bev. 
My meaning is, if it were designed for the Theatre. 
79.   Sau. 
He then would have had nothing to object against the Athalia of Racine. Here again this Gentlemen shows his inveteracy to the Stage. He owns the Play to be good, religious and solemn. If so, why not proper for an audience to be entertained with it; or why does he object against so fine a Poem, purely because Dramatic, unless he thought all sorts of Dramatic Poetry unsufferable, and nothing to be shown at a Playhouse. Moral and pleasant things he has already excluded; now he forbids the Poets meddling with solemn and religious subjects. Neither the one nor the other will please him, he'll allow no Wit out of his own Company, nor Religion out of his Pulpit.  Bev. 
But that it was designed for the Theatre, is more than I know. 
79.   Sau. 
I believe it; we have had several touches of his acquaintance with the French Tongue, and French Authors.  Bev. 
And I believe it was not. 
79.   Sau. 
The Preface would have given him good reason to have believed otherwise, if he had ever read it. I will not say by him as he does by Mr Congreve, with reference to Pineda, that I suspect he never saw it; for I have good ground to mistrust, that though he has perhaps seen it, he has not read it. To answer his belief at once, Racine tells you himself that it was acted, and there are thousands living, who saw it on the Stage, which is a good argument against his insinuations, that it cannot be made useful. The Author of Athalia informs you in his Preface,  
On me trovera peut cestre un peu hardi d'avoir mettre sur la scene un prophet inspére de Dieu & qui predit l'avenir, 
Racine Pref. to Ath.  etc.  Bev. 

Def. p. 79.  I had a glimpse of him just now. Best of all, 'tis more than he has of himself, sometimes lewd but not little, there's a paradox for ye. Well, I grant some people are both.  Sau. 
I desired you to read those excellent Sentences, to remember you of the Gentleman's breeding, and to excuse the Liberty I take with him. That some people are both, bears a very civil construction, and is a taste of that Language which is refined from Billingsgate.  Bev. 

P. 8●.  He means the pedantical Cant of Aristotle, Horace, Bossu and Corneille.  Sau. 
Why so positive, I'll assure him that neither Mr Congreve nor any body who is acquainted with Mr Collier's reading, could never mean so. The Translation of Father Hedelin's Art of the Stage, is doubtless what he meant; he may be furnished with pedantical Cant enough there, or in the Essay on Dramatic Poetry, which he quotes so often. The Candle-Snuffer can talk to you of the three Unities, and the Scene-keepers judge of one of 'em, better than our Critic does.  Bev. 
He would blanche this foul character; but alas! 
81.  'tis to no purpose to wash and rub, the spots are not dirt but complexion.  Sau. 
When Mr Collier is fond of a Metaphor, you find he's loath to part with it; he will then continue it perhaps an whole period; but when the simile is too strong for him, and he can't manage it, he changes 7 or 8 times in a Sentence, this 'tis plain was borrowed from his Laundress. The blanching of a pair of Sheets, and washing and rubbing is propriety of Speech, so is, the spots are not dirt, but complexion is a bold word, and the Washer-women seldom use it in the phrase of the Tub. If Mr Collier takes his metaphors from the Mob, he should be faithful to his originals, and not make 'em speak more nonsense than they are guilty of.  Bev. 
Let his Language alone, and mind his Reasoning.  Sau. 
Are you come to that then, you abandon his Style I perceive. Well, I did not think you would have been weary on't so soon: Some men have preferred him to the late Archbishop or the Bp of Rochester, and the people to their darling Sir Roger L' Estrange.  Bev. 
I think however, his stile is not contemptible.  Sau. 
I should think so too; if he did not himself believe it excellent; I'm sure 'tis nearer the first than the last.  Bev. 

82.  So much for his honesty.  Sau. 
And are not the impatience of Creditors, the hardships of a Prison, and absence from a Mistress, enough to make an honest man sign an obligation, which he would endeavour after to be relieved from. In civil things of the highest consequence, agreements under confinement are always void of course; and since 'tis not so in matters of Common Law, a man may endeavour to do himself Justice, when others who imposed on his necessities had wronged him, and yet be no Cheat. Mr Collier thought his bare saying So much for his honesty would be sufficient, and that his Readers would take a word from his mouth, instead of proof. Pray read what Valentine says, which occasions this smart conclusion.  Val. 
This condition was proposed before, I refused it; 
Love for Love, p. 8.  but the present Impatience of my Creditors for their Money, and my own Impatience of Confinement, and absence from Angelica, forced me to consent,  
To the cutting off the reversion of his Father's Estate to him, by a Bond, and would not you or any man do the same, rather than starve in a Prison, or not see a Woman you Love, and one whose Fortune would redeem yours. If a Father was so wicked as to take this opportunity, to oblige his Son to comply with his unjust demands, would not any Son do all that lay in his power to break such a Contract, and might he not effect it without being censured for a Rascal.  Bev. 
I would have acted as Valentine did.  Sau. 
So would I, and as scrupulous as our adversary shows himself, such a temptation would go very near with him, yet we should either of us I suppose be angry with a person that should dispute our honesty.  Bev. 

p. 83.  The Psalmists authority may be better than Mr Congreve ' s.  Sau. 
This Paragraph is a very great Compliment on all the People of Quality and Merit who frequent the Playhouse, and divert themselves with the representations there. I'm sure the using Scripture to back his personal Quarrel with the Poets is more Profane than the Liberties they are accu'sd of for Exposing Holy persons which is abominable. There never was a holy person exposed by the most profligate writers. Every Parson is not what he should be, a Holy Person, and none but those who are not so were ever ridiculed. They are the Hypocrites and Cheats, who are discovered in their guilt, and punished with shame. I beg your pardon for repeating this vindication again and again, 'twas necessary here to show he is angry for nothing, and concerns the Scripture in his passion.  Bev. 
The Father's censure of the Stage of which I gave many Instances was an oversight of Zeal. 
P. 83.   Sau. 
He thinks he has Mr Congreve now at an advantage, for presuming to say the zeal of the Fathers was an oversight, though this is not the only oversight the Fathers made, their zeal often transported 'em, to do incongruous actions. Sometimes they condemned the Platonic Philosophy, and then the Aristotelian, the one was damnable at one time, and the other at another, one encouraged and recommended by some Fathers, and accused and forbidden by others. Origen and some more of 'em fell into dangerous errors by their study of Plato, whom Tertullian styles the Author of the Heresies of those times. St Austin in his younger years cried up Plato, and Aristotle in his old Age, approving and disproving both by turns; yet in these days both Plato and Aristotle are read in our Schools. The Author of the Letter to A. H. Esq has said enough on this matter. The Fathers might err, and did err, as much as men do now. Their Authority with Reason and Scripture on their side is of force, otherwise of none, their say may be reflected on as well as ours, and are as liable to exception. The citations which Mr Collier has made from 'em, and their weight, will be examined by a person, who, I hear, has applied himself to study this matter with care and industry. For my part, I take least notice of his sense of Antiquity, I look on things as they appear now, and if there is nothing to be said against 'em at present, and much for them, had the Fathers, without warrant from Scripture, thundered more against 'em than the most zealous of them did against the doctrine of the Antipodes, I should not be biased by their authority.  Bev. 

P. 88  'Twill ne'er fix the floating of our humours, nor bring us to the steadiness of the Continent: to speak more softly, What is more likely to awaken our passions than these diversions, and to fill us with freaks and fancies, and extravagant amusements.  Sau. 
I'll answer, if I can, as softly as he asked the Question. Sowing Sedition, Inspiring men's minds with the desire of a Revolution, Preaching against the Government, or for those, who to the utmost of their power have contrived its ruin. These things are more likely to awaken our passions, and such passions as are more dangerous than freaks and fancies both to the State and ourselves. If a good man or woman should dream all night of the Ghost in Hamlet, the murder in Julius Caesar, of the fellow in the Tub in Sir George Etheridge's Comedy, or the Scowrers in Shadwell's, they may lose the pleasure of a sound nap, but they need not fear being hanged for't. If trifles make a slight impression on their minds for the present it soon wears off, and without such amusements their fancies might have been worse employed.  Bev. 
To the authority of this Father I shall subjoin that of Horace. 
P. 86.   Sau. 
I slipped over his authority from Horace, not imagining you would value what that greatest of Poets and Critics said against the Drama. When the Roman Theatre was debauched by the abuse of the Chorus' and Music, especially since he says it in the same Poem, in which he takes so much care to inform the Stage-writers, how to succeed, and gives those who had done well such immortal praises; he is not talking of the Theatre as 'twas in its self, but as 'twas corrupted by the Laziness, Luxury, and Ignorance of those times, when by the vast numbers of Villagers who had obtained the freedom of the City, and were made Denizens of Rome, the public taste began to be vitiated. The people, as they are now, were fond of any thing new and extravagant. The Chorus' that used to be Lessons of morality, were grown lewd and irregular.  

Hor. Poet.  Ille bonis faveatque & concilietur amicis.  
Et regat iratos, & amet peccare timentes,  
Ille dapes laudet Mensae brevis ille salubrem,  
Justitiam, Legesque & apertis otia portis  
Ille tegat Commissa: Deosque precetur & oret  
 redeat miseris, abeat fortuna suporbis.  
This was the office of the person who spoke first for the Chorus, and how dangerous would a Theatre be under such discipline. The Verses were simple and modest, the Music the same, and suited to the smallness of their House, which was answerable to the numbers of the people, 
Tibia non, ut nunc, orichalco vincta, tubaeque  
Aemula, sed tenuis simplexque, foramine pauco  
Aspirare, & adesse Choris erat utilis, atque  
Nondum spissa nimis complere sedilia flatu,  
Quo sane populus, etc.   
How then does Horace's authority agree with the Fathers. The Father is against the Stage in general, Horace only against the irregularity of the Music and Musicians, who were grown infamously rampant in their behaviour and dress, and changed the simplicity and gravity of the first Chorus, to a high and lofty tone, which might fill the Theatre, as it had been enlarged by the magnificence of the Romans, than masters of the world.  
Postquam caepit agros extendere victor, & Vrbem,  
Latior amplecti murus vinoque diurno  
Placari Genius festis impune diebus,  
Accessit numerisque modisque licentia Major  
Indoctus quid enim saperet, liberque laborum,  
Rusticus Vrbano confusus, turpis honesto?  
I am very glad I had my Horace by me, that you might be satisfied what a fair and powerful Adversary we have to deal with; and this is the authority which he shall subjoin to St Austin. He mistook Horace's speaking of the corruption of the Chorus for his censuring the Drama, he was led away by Dacier's Marginal Notes, and I am apt to suspect Marginal Notes and Indices the most considerable part of his reading; for if he had read a page or two farther in Dacier, he would have found that 'tis not so remarkable as he thinks in Horace, to commend the old Romans for not frequenting the Theatre; for he commends the modesty of their Plays, and the virtue of those times, which would not endure the disorders of the Roman Theatre, in the latter days of Augustus. Dacier says page 246 of the same vol. in his remarks on Vtiliumque sagax rerum & divina futuri.  
That Horace does not in the least talk of Tragedy in general, he speaks only of the Chorus, and explains how it came to be corrupted from its first simplicity. Thus 'tis plain for what Dacier gives his four reasons for the Romans not frequenting the Theatre so much as they did afterwards, which reasons Horace had given before him, for no other end, but to show the virtue of the first Stage, and the vices of the last, which no body can vindicate; and yet no sensible man would be for destroying a Theatre, because it has not been always supported with the purity it requires. You see now, that Dacier's authority is ruined from Dacier himself as well as Horace. The pains he took with Aristotle's Arte Poetica, wherein the Tragic Muse is preferred to the Heroic, is a sufficient argument that he did not believe the Theatre ought to be condemned as inconsistent with Prudence or Religion.  Bev. 
Mr Collier says as much. 
8●.  As for innocent diversion, I have nothing to say against 'em.  Sau. 
He has said as much as he could against the Stage in general. His bringing in the Fathers who were for none at all, and a great many other hints of its danger, are good proof, that he would have the world at least believe he is not for innocent diversions, where men are to be made merry with Fools or Hypocrites. If he is for such entertainments, why all this stir and noise? does he suppose 'tis impossible to write an innocent Play? what would he make of Racine? Esther and Athelia? what of a great part of Corneilles, and Monsieur Boyer's Tragedies; and if so much can't be said for our own in this point as for the French, 'tis because our Poets erred to please a humorous people, and never offended against Decency or Religion, but at the same time broke thro' their art: those of 'em who are most faulty know least of what they profess; the little Writers that take for their whimsies will not long please the Town, when their taste is once refined; then such only as are masters of their art will be applauded, and then Mr Collier will have no need to complain for himself or the age; for this is certain, that a good Poet must write like a good man, because he is to instruct as well as please; and a true Wit will never descend to buffooning. Rain says all Poetry that is against manners is against art, and Bossu, that a pernicious art is no art at all, at least not sufferable; and another great Author that none but little Genius's will descend to speak indecencies or impurities. Let such Writers be treated as Mr Collier pleases, I am of his opinion, that they cannot make an innocent diversion. Their knowledge of the Town, which they boast of, is a Science they dare not tell how they came by, the spirit of their Dialogue, Impudence, and Extravagance: A Reformation for these is of absolute necessity, and the only way to reform 'em is, to silence them. To which all that love their Morals or Understandings, will consent with joy.  Bev. 
Mr Congreve goes on with his Panegyric on his Country. 
P. 88   Sau. 
Mr Collier is not satisfied with engaging the Nobility, Clergy, and Magistracy to his assistance, he compliments now the whole Kingdom, and is setting them against his Animadvertor.  Bev. 

16.  I somewhat Question the truth as well as civility of this reflection.  Sau. 
Who would take Mr Collier for an Englishman, he is so great a Champion for his Nation, that he will not believe the weekly Bills, nor allow any Felo de se's to be heard of in England. This controversy is very comical, and the Parish Clerks, the Searchers, or Coroners Inquests, can only put an end to't, to them he's referred for satisfaction.  Bev. 

P. 89.  From whence are all our Plots, etc. Let them come from whence they will, we had better have them than some people's Remedies.  Sau. 
This is not the first fine thing Mr Collier has said of the Dissenters, he would not have cajoled them so in King Charles the Second latter days, but he did not foresee then that he could have been so much a Schismatic, as to Dissent from the Church, as by Law established.  Bev. 
But I still crave leave to believe that a mistaken conscience is more serviceable than none at all.  Sau. 
He shall have leave to believe what he pleases, for here he speaks softly. I confess I never studied speculative Divinity, and 'tis a little bold in me not to be of the same sentiments with a professed Divine and a M. A. Yet I am of opinion, he has shown himself not very knowing even in his own way. Obstinacy is generally the Companion of error in Religion; a man that has a mistaken Conscience, often firmly believes he's in the right, and dies in that belief. A wicked man knows his own guilt but has not Grace enough to amend, or desire to be better. Strong persuasion may inspire him with a fear of punishment, and convince him of the danger of his ways: Such a one is certainly more likely to be converted to the true Religion, than one who thinks his is the true, and will not hearken to any other, whereas a wicked man can't suppose he's in the right, whatever he says or practices; and there's more hopes of the Conversion of a lewd Fellow, than a Quaker to the Orthodox Faith.  Bev. 
He concludes his Book with an unfair Quotation about Music, 
P. 90  but I shall pass it over.  Sau. 
Lest it should not appear so unfair as he affirms 'tis, he says, he does not say Music is directly vicious, 
Short View, P. 278, 279, 280.  but that the art is meanly prostituted, designed to lay thinking and reflection asleep. It helps a lascivious sentence to slide, drowns the disorders of Atheism, excites a sportive humour, warms the passions, unlocks the fancy, makes it open to pleasure, throws a man off his Guard, keeps off the aversions of Conscience, makes way for an ill impression, is most commodiously planted to do mischief, refreshes the Ideas of the action of a bad Poem, is true to the subject and the tunes, are generally airy and gallardizing. He tells out of Tully that some Music is dangerous and ensnaring, and talks of one Timotheus that was silenced for having a string too much to his Fiddle. Mr Collier probably would have expected a Pun here, but I was resolved to disappoint him. If all these Elegant Allegations are not enough to show his good dispositions to Music, look over his last pages of his Short View, and you will be satisfied why he passed over answering Mr Congreve s Quotation.  Bev. 
To come to his criticisms upon some of my expressions. 
90.   Sau. 
Ay, pray let us be attentive here, this is the place where he fancies he can show himself most, and make the best flourishes.  Bev. 
The Lady's fancy slip stocking high is an allusion to a Book very well known. 
90.   Sau. 
Yes, we have seen where he has learned other things from that Author; his forcible way of dividing his repetitions, and hammering a thought till he has beaten it to nothing. If you remember what we read just now out of his Short View, concerning Music, there are many instances of his Rhetoric in Dr Eachard.  Bev. 
The upper end of a Government is a defensible expression.  Sau. 
Enough, we'll take his word for't; 'twould be hard if we should refuse him so small a favour, after so many proofs of his Eloquence, though the upper end of Table, or an Alley, or a Maypole, would be much more in propriety of Speech.  Bev. 
The Litter of Epithets I have answered already.  Sau. 
You remember how; but with Mr Collier Questions are as easily answered as started.  Bev. 
His exception to big alliances is somewhat unfairly transcribed.  Sau. 
Indeed Mr Congreve has not named a quarter of the places where Big is very foolishly used. I once was about to make a Collection of that and some words like it, particularly his affected use of Ceremony in the Defence, but I thought 'twould be troubling my head with Straws, so I left 'em to his Readers.  Bev. 
Well, but he attacks Mr Congreve for faults in stile too.  Sau. 
Examine him with the Mourning Bride, and see whether they are not rather boldnesses of Expression, beautiful in Tragedy, than Errors. Our Adversary is as likely to mistake one for the other, as most I meet with. Respiring Lips and noon of Night, I am sure as Mr Congreve has used them, are expressions proper enough in Poetry, though they had been outrageous in Prose.  
And felt the balm of her respiring Lips,  
And all was still as at the noon of night.  
No body expects that Mr Collier should relish what he does not understand, but then he ought not to make exceptions.  Bev. 
Is the best Image of a parcel of Cats running up a wall.  Sau. 
Mr Collier's Images are ever poor and filthy, a litter of Whelps, a kennel of Beans, a parcel of Cats and drowned Rats. The man has a very Gentlemanlike manner of thinking, and 'tis pity he had not treated on some subject where he had an opportunity to distinguish himself better. I desire you would be short with his Criticisms, we have seen already, what a Judge he is of Language and Poetry. He talks ill enough in his own way, but it must be more wretched when he's out on't, his Raillery is as awkard as his Breeding, he aims at something in both, but never looks more ridiculous, than when he would appear most witty or civil, which every one must do, that does not know what is nature in both, as you'll find by his last Paragraph relating to Mr Congreve.  Bev. 
But this is somewhat unfortunate; one would have thought, if he had neither modesty to make 'em, nor reason to defend them, he might at least have had a little conscience to have given them up.  Sau. 
Here's Ceremony at parting, a Bully could not have gone out of Company more abruptly, let him if he pleases think me rude for my Comparison, 'tis impossible for a man to read him often, and keep within Temper. What think you of him now?  Bev. 
I have not that Glorious Idea of him, which before possessed me, but still why did the Town cry him up so much if there's nothing in him.  Sau. 
Mr Collier will rail aloud at me for incivility, should I pretend to accuse the Town of weakness, and a Town where there are as many men of good Sense, and true Wit as any in the World. Yet this very Town has always been extremely whimsical in her favours to men in their reputation. She has all along set up one Coxcomb or another to sport with, blown him up with her praises, and at last left him with utmost contempt. Was not the City Laureate once thought a greater Poet than Mr Dryden? has not Mr D— had at one time more admirers than Mr Witcherly? after this did not Sir R. B. carry away the Laurel from all who pretended to't, and those very Heroic Poems which he confesses were written in a Hackney Coach, preferred to Milton and Virgil, the work of half an age, and of the greatest Genius's that ever lived. And are not those Gentleman's writings in a fair way to eternal oblivion? The Playhouse was ripe for correction. The Town approved something that looked like aiming at it. This made her kind to Mr Collier's attempt, and her kindness to the design was the reason she overlookt the performance. You may be sure she will know the man better in a little while, and you need not fear of being single in your opinion, if you are convinced that there is a better way of viewing the immorality of the Stage, than he has or can show us.  Bev. 
Since the Stage is so ripe for reproof, why does not some other more capable person set about it?  Sau. 
'Tis an ungrateful task to expose the faults of so powerful a Party, unless the public would encourage it, and hearken to means of bringing the Theatre to reason without endeavouring to destroy it. No man of sense will think of speaking against it, while people are in so wild an humour; when they come to themselves, enough would put the Poets in a way to please them, without endangering their Virtue, and make the Stage-entertainments their most sensible and useful pleasure.  Bev. 
We may talk of this hereafter, if you please we'll read that part of the Defence, which censures the Short Vindication of the Relapse, etc.  Sau. 
It grows late, and we have had enough of Mr Collier at present; if you are not otherwise engaged, we'll run over that to morrow: And Claret now will be much more refreshing, after a tedious conversation about our adversaries trifles.  Bev. 
I am not so very eager to part with all my kind sentiments of him at once, but I can adjourn the dispute for a Bottle. To morrow, if you please, we'll finish it. I'll be with you at 5.  Sau. 
You are always welcome. I'll expect you then. Come, Sir, a health to a regulated Stage and the Muses.  Bev. 
I'll do you reason.  
The End of the Second Dialogue.   

The Third Dialogue.  Bevill, Savage. Bev. 
GOod morrow, Sir, Excellent Wine and a Friend like you are not soon to be parted with. I little thought to have been so very troublesome to you, and made a night on't; but when we are set in, and like the Company, 'tis hard to promise one's self what time we shall leave it.  Sau. 
I am glad any thing tempted you to stay with me till morning; we drank little in comparison of what they take for a dose in Convent-garden. I hope the Claret agrees with you.  Bev. 
To a miracle. I amed always so serene next day as you see me now, drinking suits not at all with my constitution, and I pay for the pleasure of the night by my qualms and vapours after it. But now my head is as clear as Nature made it, and you shall find that I can read Mr. Collier anon without interruption.  Sau. 
Why not before dinner? for you may be sure I'll not let you stir till 've dined, since the Wine sits so well with you, we'll make an end with him out of hand. I shall have less to object against the Scruples in the Reply than those in the Defence; for, though I pay all the deference in the world to the author of the Relapse, for his Wit, and the Moral of that Play, which I think very instructive, yet I own there are some Liberties in his Comedies, especially the Provoked Wife, which Mr Collier had reason to censure. However, we'll see if he does not wrest his meaning sometimes as well as Mr Congreve's and endeavour to make his errors an argument for putting an end to the Drama.  Bev. 
One freedom betrays me to another; if you'll promise to see the new Tragedy with me in the evening, I'll accept of your invitation.  Sau. 
You mean Rinaldo and Armida.  Bev. 
I have heard of no other.  Sau. 
With all my heart, I have seen it 3 or 4 times already, but the Music is so fine, and the Play pleases me so well, that I shall not think it a burden to keep you on those terms.  Bev. 
I never saw it since the third day, and was then alone; your judgement will very much confirm the pleasure I had at that entertainment.  Sau. 
We'll refer this discourse till we are in the Pit, and now let's sit and talk with our friend Mr Collier.  Bev. 
You know the reading him is my task, by agreement, so pray don't break in on our Articles.  Sau. 
I can hardly compliment you so far, do as you will.  Bev. 
The Vindicator and his Brethren have an admirable way of defending themselves from indecencies, 
P 98.  if you detect them they tell you 'tis your own construction.  Sau. 
Is not his construction of Not a woman kind, and cireling Joys tread round the happy year, is not that Bawdy only in our Adversaries acceptation, was there any harm in these words before he had struck 'em off into a light sense. You don't forget what was said on this before, and how he appeared to you then to be abominable, in the sense he put on innocent words; and can you read this affirmation of his without blushng for him?  Bev. 
You are warm already.  Sau. 
Is there not reason for this vehemence, to see a man guilty of such unfair dealing, to find it proved upon him, and yet to meet him endeavouring to throw off his guilt by such impotent raillery, is sufficient to provoke the most calm Reader that ever saw his Short View, or his Defence. And you see he ambles on with his brisk sentences, as if he had really nothing to answer for. As if the knowledge of Good and Evil was Criminal, 
P. 98.  and to show one fault was to make another: I'm ashamed to repeat such stuff, the sense of these dapper Periods and their Rhetoric are equally extraordinary. Criminal and faulty are all one; if there is any difference, criminal is the stronger word, which he enforces with a weaker. He means as if the knowledge of Good and Evil was faulty, and to show one fault was to make another fault. Here are amplification and reasoning. 'Tis without doubt criminal to have such an exquisite skill in the knowledge of Evil, as to extract it out of the most innocent things, as Spiders suck Poison out of Flowers. To discover a fault where there was none, is to make yourself guilty for your own discovery. That he has done so, has been proved, and that he will do so again, before we have gone through with the Reply, I don't in the least question. This Paragraph is a Nonpareil for the pert turn of his Sentences, unless it be the next where you have almost a Sentence in every line, 17 or 18, in 5 or 6 and twenty, and every one of 'em the same thing in other words: he is very lavish of his words, but a niggard of his sense, though one can't blame a man that has but a little stock to be sparing in his expenses.  Bev. 
I see you are transported; and yet you are not like the greatest part of Mankind, who lose their reason when they give way to passion.  Sau. 
It vexes me that I'm obliged to take notice of trifles, yet these very trifles have been mistaken for Beauties.  Bev. 

Def. 99  Sure there is not upon earth so impertinent a thing as a woman's modesty.  Sau. 
That and Bellinda's answer are the subject on which he harangues his Reader with those elegant Periods. He says he has proved that no Profaneness is excusable in any Character, and we have on the contrary disproven him by the example of Cow and Milton, and the authority of Pere Bossu. Cow takes the whole parable of the Prodigal, and serves himself on't, for an allusion to his passion in his Mistress. You need only read those Verses, and the other Copies in that part of his Book, to be informed how he has taken from the most Religious Stories, to make comparisons for his Love. I'll not vindicate this in him, nor in the Stage-writers, yet 'tis an argument that the best of Poets have made use of serious phrases; and none till now thought 'em so flamingly wicked for't. If profaneness in any Character ought not to be excused, affectation certainly may. There's no ceremony should privilege any person from being exposed for his weakness. If a woman affects modesty, and has it not, let the cheat be discovered as handsomely as may be, without making her appear rampant; and let her be made ashamed of her Hypocrisy; our Adversary is so over civil to the fair, that he thinks it a piece of rudeness to suppose they can err, and ill manners to ridicule their faults, though in order to reform 'em. This is nicety indeed, and a man of this Conscience ought to struggle hard for decency.  Bev. 
We don't see Comedy garnished with Parliament House Speeches.  Sau. 
I keep to my first principals, and when I delivered up Mr Congreve's 4th Postulate to Mr Collier, I had not the least reserve for't, else I should have objected against the three or four last pages. I don't stop now to vindicate the use of Scripture phrases, by saying that Parliament House Speeches have been a garnish to Comedy. I think 'em none, and that 'tis impudent to show a Senator making ridiculous harangues. Whatever opinion a man has of some of the Speeches made there, or of the ability of many Members to speak in so awful an Assembly, I'm sure 'tis prodigious folly for any one to attempt exposing 'em on the Stage. The Respect due to so venerable an House, has kept the Poets within bounds, supposing only their fear of Punishment, has been the occasion of their modesty in this particular; yet they have, as Mr Collier observes, been very cautious how they have touched on privilege. Tho this has been sometimes done, and our Adversary is extraordinary tender towards the Poets, to show his own ignorance to lessen their guilt. The Senator in Venice preserved was copied from some body that the Court designed then to laugh at, and the Oration he makes is not the least part of the pleasure which those that will rather laugh than cry take at that Tragedy. Yet such things should be utterly exploded, and had not been named, if Mr Collier had not so frankly said we done't see, etc.  Bev. 

P. 109  The Vindicator complains I won't take his word in the business of Pimping; under favour he does me wrong, I never questioned his experience in these matters; I am willing to believe him a good authority, and that he is qualified to pronounce on the growth and improvement of the mystery.  Sau. 
This is some of that Language which might easily be translated into Billingsgate, as well as he can he gives it an air of raillery; but would a man take it kindly to be called Pimp in affected phrase? or will the screwing up of the mouth make the affront the less? If a Rascal should tell you he believes your Mother was kind to some other man besides your Father, or else you had never came into the world, would not you use him as scurvily as if he called you Son of a Whore; and yet this same Mr Collier imposes himself on us for a man of breeding, decency, ceremony, and all that; we know not how he came by them, nor when he will discover his accomplishments, but at present we will not take his word for 'em.  Bev. 
He tells you, 'tis a dull thing not to expect any thing not dull from a Nurse. And why so, as slender people are entertaining sometimes.  Sau. 
Is slenderness then a necessary quality of a Nurse, or does their living on Candles and Chicken-broth, screw their Wastes into the compass of a Span; good Ale and a lazy life have had bigger effects on some of 'em. If those of Mr Collier's acquaintance are so extremely well shaped, which perhaps may render them very entertaining sometimes. Yet as slender people. This expression is very pleasant, and whoever heard before that a man is of slender quality, unless he had been two or three years in a Consumption; who that would write fine will not be acquainted with our Adversaries delicate manner?  Bev. 

P. 110.  But though she has not Wit, she might have Humour.  Sau. 
Then 'tis plain he thinks a Nurse's Humour might be taking without Wit. I'll say no more on this matter, there are a hundred stories scurrilously told of the Prue's and the Abigalls, the Chaplains and the Clerks, and a man might have too great a temptation if he thought much more on't.  Bev. 
I see you have forgot your passion.  Sau. 
He that would be out of humour with Mr Collier for this Paragraph, is certainly not to be pleased on any terms; and when a man does so much to make one merry, 'twere cruel to disappoint him.  Bev. 
To play the downright Wife, 
P. 112.  and Cuckold him.  Sau. 
Here he endeavours to wheedle the Ladies to his side by his civility, after he has attempted to ruin their most agreeable pleasure by attacking the Stage. To serve a lose Husband in his kind is a revenge for a Wife who has not Honour nor Religion to preserve her, without these vanity and resentment would prevail over all of them. For who could bear being abused and not seek for satisfaction? I believe should he without jesting call ever a one of those Ladies he makes his Addresses to downright Wife, she would not take it for raillery, whatever Bellinda meant it.  Bev. 
This Gentleman is known to be a Master of stile. 
P. 115.   Sau. 
He is known to be so in some cases, particularly that which the French call La Langage des Hales, no man ever practised that manner of speaking with more success; and because he pleased the people, who are charmed with Malice, however 'tis presented them, Mr Collier tells you He is known to be a Master of stile; to be sure he thought him so, or he would not have industriously imitated his Observators and Aesop's Fables. 
L' Stran. Aesop.  The Moon was one time in a heavy twitter, is a beauty of Speech with which Mr Collier, I suppose, was extremely pleased, or else why did he go so far out of the way, to make Sir Roger so whimsical a Compliment. Was there any reason to quote him, when the late Archbishop, the Bishops of Salisbury and Rochester, and Dr Burnet of the , have so often used Providence in his own sense of the word, which is indeed its true signification; and these are Gentlemen whose excellence of stile, neither the Court nor People ever disputed, but they were too Loyal for his purpose, he would confine Elegance to his Party, though he might as well refer us to his friends in Ireland.  Bev. 
You are wonderfully disgusted with Sir Roger, or else you would not have kept yourself so long from the Reply.  Sau. 
I was not sorry at this opportunity to speak my sentiments of the Knight; I taste for myself, if my relish of his Language agrees not with others, let those who oppose it, give me better reasons for't than his reputation; I never could be touched with his rude way of rallying, nor take his buffonery for wit.  Bev. 
Have a care, you will offend against decency, to say of a Chevalier, that his wit is buffonery, is an error in manners, which the Replier will very much scruple to forgive you.  Sau. 
I have said it, and any Knight in Christendom, who talks in the phrase of his Squire, may expect the same freedoms from me.  Bev. 
Enough of him, at this rate we shall hardly get over the Reply before dinner.  Sau. 
Dispatch it as fast as you please, I am as weary on't as you can be, and with more reason, for I have read it oftener.  Bev. 
His lame excuse from Character and Manners, I have disproven already.  Bev. 
Are you of his opinion against the arguments and authorities I gave you yesterday.  Bev. 
I think satire ought to have no deference for any one for his Quality, either in the Church or out on't, unless it touches the heads of either the Civil or Ecclesiastical Government, which would be to aim at the foundation of both, but for this passage, (Bellinda's blessing) I suppose there's no excuse, because, though the ridiculousness of some people wearing a Cassock, may be exposed, yet Religion or Phrases, consecrated by the use she makes of them, ought not to be meddled with on the Stage.  Sau. 
I make the same difference as you do, between the persons and the things, and the Vindicator ought to have been more discreet.  Bev. 
I perceive the little Justice I endeavoured to do that order.  
He puts the Clergy in mind of his great services to the Gown, 
P. 116.  in the pains he took to assert their privileges, and stickle for their precedence. He was not satisfied with the harangues he troubled us with in his Short View and the Defence, but we must have their remonstrances rung in our ears too in the Reply. Would he have an Ambassador travel like a Carrier, with a Portmanteau behind, though I seldom see a Carrier with a Portmanteau behind him. I have seen a very honest Gentleman with a Sack of Corn under him, who was not at all ashamed of his advancement. I'll quickly have done with this controversy, let him continue it as long as he pleases. We have seen how far the Clergy may be laughed at, without concerning their office or order in their Quarrel, and by this time I suppose you are convinced of his sophistry, and that the Poets never intended to affront the Clergy in general, by their treating those who deserved it as scandalously as they lived.  Bev. 
They had nature at their beck, and carried Omnipotence about them.  Sau. 
To say the Apostles were Omnipotent, is a boldness which will startle many good Christians, and which the Church itself would scarce countenance. I took the liberty to oppose him in his Theology before, when he preferred a bad Conscience to none at all. I amed so civil to sinners, as to imagine they are wicked, because they know no better, neither will I give credit to an Atheist, when he tells me he believes there's no God, nor can I consent to what Mr Collier has said of the Apostles, at least not as he has expressed it. That they did Miracles is as certain as that we read they did so, but 'twas not by the omnipotence they carried about them. 'Twas the Power which the Holy Ghost committed to 'em in return of their Prayers, for the conviction of the unbelieving world on extraordinary occasions. They could have defended themselves from sufferings, and soon have converted both Jews and Gentiles, had their power been perfect. Theirs had its bounds, which were enlarged at the pleasure of the only omnipotent. Mr Collier more than once has erred in his Divinity, he told us the Jews and Christians never took their names from exceptionable persons. I was sure when you read it, he must be very much out, and now I remember the great Apostle of the Gentiles St Paul, was before his conversion called Saul, a name every whit as exceptionable as Jehu. Cow in his Davideis says of Saul,  While Saul and Hell, etc. 
David 1 Book.  
A man that is not a Master of Arts without a great deal of reading, might have confounded the Divine for his being so positive in things which he must not have studied over carefully to make such errors.  Bev. 
Let him practise the same liberty on a Judge or a Lord Mayor, 
123.  and see how the jest will take.  Sau. 
There is no equality in the comparison, a Judge as one of the heads of the Law, the Lord Mayor as the head of the City, ought not to be shown scandalous, though Judges and Lord Mayors too have been brought on the Stage, in King Charles the Second Reign. But a man with a Bar-Gown and Livery-Gown, has not the same privilege. There's no fear of making the Law or the City contemptible that way, if Citizens and Lawyers take care by their actions not to give the world other reasons for thinking 'em so. The House of Lords is one of the States of the Kingdom, and to jest on 'em is certainly the highest breach of manners, but every Lord in private and out of his Robes has not the like pretences to exception from scandal, if he's the subject on't. 'Tis time to have done with this dispute, we have had it over and over again in so many places, that 'tis as tiresome to vindicate the Poets, as to read Mr Collier's Charges against 'em, on the affair of ceremony, which the worst of 'em is as good a Judge of as himself.  Bev. 

P. 1●  Is it the office of a Comic Poet to imitate Justice, then certainly Rewards and Punishments ought to be rightly applied.  Sau. 
If Rewards and Punishments ought to be applied, the Gild as well as the Merit ought to be exposed. A man must not be condemned for nothing, nor can the Audience judge of the Crime without hearing the Indictment. The man must appear wicked, before he can be punished for his wickedness; and how can he appear so but by his words and actions. If he is lewd in one, the Adversary says he's not to be seen for his smut. If in the other, 'tis breach of Manners and Decency. 'Tis very severe usage, if a Poet must bring on a person purely to punish him, and not let the Audience know how he has deserved it. Mr Collier owns Rewards and Punishments ought to be applied, and of consequence contradicts all that he has said about Character and Manners. If the Poet does not correct vicious men, he errs in the Conduct of his Play, and there's no excuse for him. If he does, Mr Collier says 'tis his duty. The main difficulty is, how it must be done not to offend him. He must be brought on the Stage and some one tell the Audience, (as the French knock their unfortunate Hero's on the head) That the poor fellow has been very wicked behind the Scenes, and is brought out to be managed for't, but not a word of his lewdness; which is much like, as if a Jury should give their Verdict on a Criminal without hearing the Declaration against him. A person well enough known had lately been very much obliged, if the Court would have sentenced him, and not ordered his accusation to be read, but they did not think fit that Justice should yield to Decency. And perhaps the publication of that Trial, has been as prejudicial to the age, as the most vicious Play which ever was acted, ten thousand people having by this means been informed of a Crime, which till then they had never heard of; and yet Justice thought the ill consequence of spreading that paper, would not countervail the advantages the people might reap by being deterred from so infamous a villainy, when they were acquainted with its punishment.  Bev. 

P. 126.  For to show a Religious person ridiculous, is the way to mismark the nature of good and evil.  Sau. 
'Tis granted, but the persons introduced on the Stage, are not those truly Religious people, whose natures are mismarkt; they are the Hypocrites and Cheats that abuse their profession, and make Godliness a colour to their Vices. I never knew in the most profligate Comedies, a man ridiculed that was sincerely religious. The Testimonies, the Smirks, the Spintexts, the Say-graces, etc. are of a quite different nature, and they are not in the least mismarkt.  Bev. 
Does a man who argues against Conscience, and talks like an Atheist, 
P. 126.  never speak his mind.  Sau. 
If a man who talks like an Atheist speaks his mind, what is he but an Atheist? Mr Collier has a pretty way with him, as to his similes. Now to answer the Question as peremptorily as he asked it. A man born in England, who has had the benefit of Christian Education, can't speak his mind when he talks like an Atheist. The truth of our Doctrine is so convincing, that there never was in our Nation an Atheist, but in affectation, or one whose Debauches made him desire his Creed might not be true: And this is the reason. Why when a Libertine pleads in his own defence, he must not be supposed to be in earnest. Monsieur de la Bruyere says in his Chapter of the Wits of the Age; There never was such a thing as an Atheist. And I should blush for the Adversary when he asks such impertinent Questions, but that I hope when he reads 'em again, he'll blush for 'em himself. He's the first Divine that ever made a doubt of the Libertines believing against their practice, or that indeed 'twas possible for a man to be born in Christendom, and be an Atheist from his Soul. The Faith of many may be very sceptical and uncertain; there may be some who have scruples concerning revelation, though of those who pretend to argue against it, not one in a thousand thinks as he talks; but a real Atheist is a monster, which no body ever met with besides Mr Collier, and I hope he forgot himself when he seemed to imply that a man may be bred in London, and yet speak his mind when he denies the being of a God. I'm sure he was was not very Ceremonious to his species, in suspecting there could be one of them worse than the Devil, who is said to believe and tremble, as well as curse and revile.  Bev. 

P 128  This squeamishness 'tis possible drew down the severity of the Poet.  Sau. 
And what would Mr Collier get by't, if the Vindicator confessed it. A woman that affects to seem modest, is whimsically nice in her words and actions to outward appearance, while in her heart she's as gallant as those who discover their minds freely; is not such a one more hurtful than the other? does not a Hypocrite injure Religion more than a Rake, as an Enemy in our bosom is more dangerous than one that attacks us openly. A Hypocrite cheats himself, and endeavours to cheat his Maker; a Scoundrel only deceives himself. The man we deal with has a strange tenderness for Hypocrisy, which is unaccountable in a person of his pretences.  Bev. 
And I suppose the main reason of his saying the Playhouse contributes to the happiness of the Nation. 
P. 126.   Sau. 
If he has read Mr Dennis, he would have found other reasons for his assertion; and since he confesses that Author was ingenuous, in acknowledging lewdness promoted by the Stage, he ought to have followed his Example, and dealt as ingenuously with him. Mr Dennis and all good Judges have blamed the modern Writers for their licentiousness, but the fault is not in the Stage, the humour of the Age gave 'em first the temptation to break thro' their Art to please it; and Mr Dennis in the same Book has shown us, that the Theatre might be rendered, and has been very useful to Mankind in general, and this Nation in particular. Mr Collier whenever he thinks fit to fall on the Volunteers, will find it not very easy to answer what the Gentleman we are speaking of has said in vindication of the Drama.  Bev. 

129.  The Vindicator pretends much to morals and instruction about Loveless and Amanda.  Sau. 
At our first meeting you may remember I said something to you on the Moral of the Relapse, which in my opinion is one of the best I ever met with in Comedy. The Moral of the Fool in Fashion gave the hint which I suppose the Relapser was well acquainted with, and he has pursued it admirably in this other Play.  Bev. 
I have not forgot what you said on it, I am more reconciled to Virtue in danger, than I was when I first read the Short View.  Sau. 
I had not then seen what the Author had replied against his Adversary's Objections: But I perceive our Sentiments were the same, and I hit his design, which indeed any one might do that was not resolved to mistake it. Let's see now what Mr Collier says for himself. He talks of a Venison Pastry and the Lords Prayer, 
P. 129.  wishes hearty that the Relapser might never fall into temptation, and would throw off the Argument sometimes with a grave look, and sometimes with a smile. 
P. 130.   Bev. 
He would make Loveless and Amanda the chief Character, and to gain this he breaks thro' the rules of the Drama.  Sau. 
I will by no means attempt to answer for the Author of the Relapse; 
ibid.  that he considered much the Unities of which the Relapser is so fond. His Plays are extremely irregular in the Conduct, but there's the Spirit of Comedy in them. The Dialogue is lively, the Humour new and diverting; the Gentleman has a great deal of Wit, which is more desirable than a great deal of reading. I can't allow Mr Collier to be a Judge in these matters. I know how he came by his Criticisms, and whoever depends on such information, will blunder as he has done.  Bev. 

16.  But let his private design.  Sau. 
The Title of his Play, the intrigue which gives it its name, the design of the Author, which every one conversant with the art, saw as soon as the Comedy made its first appearance, all things publicly marked out what he meant by it. Why then does the Relapser call it his private design, because he did not understand it, at that rate there are a great many important parts of Learning suffering under too much privacy.  Bev. 

61.  Young Fashion, Lord Foppington, etc. make the principal figure.  Sau. 
Because they are the most ridiculous; folly must be very taking with the Adversary, that he's so nicely civil to't when 'tis accompanied with Quality. I thought the men of sense and the fine Gentlemen were always the Principal Figures of a Play. Lord Plausible, at his way of commenting, is the chief Character of the Plain Dealer: there's none but himself Rt. Hon. 'tis true, some would be apt to fancy his foppery made him look little, but these are a rude unthinking sort of people, who don't know the difference that is due to Title, and the respects they own a Coxcomb of Quality.  Bev. 
As for poor Lovelace, 
P. 130.  he sinks in the fourth Act.  Sau. 
What then? 
by.  Why you may go look, Sagely replied, and in fewer words than he generally makes use of.  Bev. 
The Vindicator makes a shift to say, 
ib.  that if the Play had sunk in the fourth Act, it had been better than 'tis by just 20 per Cent. etc. Does not this confession prove the truth of my Remarks, and that Loveless was a Character of Inferior consideration.  Sau. 
What in saying, that he wished the Play had been concluded, when that Character appeared no more? You must observe always that when Mr Collier asks a Question, 'tis not out of any doubt whether or no he's in the right, he never leaves the Reader at liberty to deny him, and you must understand him every where as in this place, where he means, that this confession proves the truth of his Remarks, when it proves the quite contrary. The Author says, all that comes after Loveless goes off the Stage, is trivial and insignificant, and he wishes the Play had ended, as soon as Loveless' part was over.  Bev. 

16.  Does the main person use to die so long before the Epilogue.  Sau. 
How must we take him here, is he talking of Comedy or Tragedy. The death of the Hero in a Tragedy, ought sure to be immediately before the Curtain drops; but I suppose he only changes the expression, to show how he can flourish with his Eloquence, and this main person dying so long before, is the same as sinking. If so, there are instances of the main person disappearing in the fourth Act, but they are vicious according the rules of the Drama, and ought not to be followed: Tho we have seen one of the best Tragedies of the last age, where the person who employs the greatest part of the Poem, never appears at all, and yet he gives the Play its name, I mean the Pompey of Corneille. Supposing, in short, the Relapser has in Loveless' vanishing, so early erred in one part of his Conduct, 'tis not an error in the Chief, which is the Moral; and his Virtue ought not to be questioned for his being too free with the principles of his Art.  Bev. 
And pretends I have ridiculed the Morality. 
16.   Sau. 
To ridicule was not in his power, he has railed at it, and been unfair to the Author, in imposing a Fable and Moral on him, which he disowns with Reason, and there's no mist cast before the Readers eyes in this business, but what he conjured up himself.  Bev. 
I was not examining the Moral. 
16.   Sau. 
I believe he did know what he was about, and I hope I shall convince you that I am not too severe with him, for saying so in page 209 of the Short View, he tells you, he'll spend some more thoughts than ordinary on the Relapse, and examines briefly the Fable, the Moral, and the Characters. The Fable he says, he takes to be as follows.  
Fashion, a lewd young Prodigal younger Brother, etc.  
He tells you here, he was not examining the Moral, and in his Short View he was. He agrees mightily with himself; however, this we ll excuse in him. If that is the Fable of Virtue in danger, the Moral of the Play must necessarily rise from it, and be in part what he says it is, how then can he say that he did not examine the Moral, when he lays down what the Fable is so positively. They are inseparable, and he could not talk of one without implying the other. A Play can't have two Actions and two Morals regularly, but some underplots (as we call them) are by many inexperienced writers spun out to the length of the main action. This Mr Collier mistook, as I told you at first, wilfully or ignorantly, and thence very presumptuously affirmed the Play is miscalled. This he is now ashamed of, and would disown, but he did examine the Moral in examining the Fable, and to read the Page I have cited, will be enough to satisfy you farther from his own words.  Bev. 
I say my remarks in this place are only upon the Manners in a Poetic sense.  Sau. 
If 'twas in a Poetic sense, 
P. 131.  he should have distinguished between the Fable and the Manners. If he had said the Manners of the Relapse were deficient, few would have contradicted him, but he pretended to unravel the Fable, and point out the Moral, which in a Poetic sense differ something from the manners. The Moral of a Play may be good, when the Manners of part of the Characters are naught.  Bev. 
Thus it appears the blot he makes so much noise with, lies in his own Tables.  Sau. 
You see how it appears so, and who can with patience read him talk proudly of his Victory, where he is so evidently foiled, a man with common assurance could not have kept his countenance, when he knows his own guilt, as Mr Collier must do here, and yet as if there was no harm done, he drops the argument in haste, and charitably sends the Vindicator away with his blessing, which for my part I will not much value till I hear he is more cautious in giving it.  Bev. 

132.  These Author's endeavour to justify the Theatre from the silence of the Scriptures.  Sau. 
He is leaving of his Reply to the Vindicator, and comes to attack the Stage in general, by answering a passage or two of those who defended it; till we see something from him more to the purpose, than he has yet writ against those Gentlemen, though he threatens what he will do, we shall imagine he can do no more; and I believe he will be weary of the dispute as soon as he sees the Book we talked of some time ago, which confutes him in the sense of Antiquity, and proves his observations on the Plays of the Ancient, false and malicious; but whatever he does of this nature farther, he may be sure will be answered if 'tis worth it; for the argument will still bear much more to be said for't, than the Poets have yet thought necessary.  Bev. 
I believe some of those who wrote for the Stage, would have said more if they could; their malice has appeared in their bitter Language, which was accompanied, without doubt, with the utmost strength of their reasoning, that no where appears extraordinary forcible.  Sau. 
The Prefaces to the Plays (if I may call them so) that have lately been published, have not, I confess, been over serviceable to the cause, yet there are enough who can vindicate the Stage when it shall require their service against Mr Collier, and all opposers.  Bev. 
For aught I know that may be against the authority of the Nation.  Sau. 
When that concerns itself in the Controversy, the Vindicators will do their best to satisfy it how far the Enemies of the Theatre are mistaken. But they can't imagine the authority of this Kingdom will be imposed on by Faction and Prejudice; that were to affront the Justice of a People, whose Arms have brought her in to respect over the whole world, and made those who were her Enemies, pretend most strictly to support her.  Bev. 
Shall I read the remaining 3 or 4 Pages of the Defence.  Sau. 
What you please, though you and I may have an opportunity to discourse more of these matters, when I shall endeavour to convince you of the unreasonableness of our Zealots in their attempts against the Stage. If you ever observed who were most warm against it, you found they were those who knew nothing of the Theatre; and it may be never saw any thing on a Stage, above the Drolls in Smithfield, or the pranks of a Merry-Andrew, which to be sure they reckon a better Entertainment, than a well-wrought Scene of a Comedy or Tragedy, being indeed more suitable to their capacities. I could tell you of some Gentlemen, who at the expense of their domestic Peace and Interest, would make a Figure in the world, the meanness of whose Education added to their Native ignorance, hardly qualify 'em to judge of a Mountebanks Bill, and yet these are disgusted with the Drama, which is too sensible a pleasure for their narrow understandings; and people are always angry with what they cannot understand. These are the Enemies of our most reasonable diversion; and Religion is in this, as in all other popular cases, made the Instrument of their Resentment, while to speak truth, their Intellects are more injured than their Consciences. Fools and Coxcombs were ever at War with Wit; 'tis their mortal Enemy, and they attack it in its most tender part, when they assault the Theatre. I am loath to look into future things, but I beg you to mind this, that whenever the Controversy with the Stage shall grow universal, the division will not be between the Godly and the Ungodly, but between the men of Sense, and the Fools and Fops. If you resolve to go quite thro' with the Defence, let's hasten to put it out of our way.  Bev. 
I am impatient to converse with you on this subject, for I fancy there's a great deal to be said for reforming the Stage, and if that is impracticable for silencing the Actors.  Sau. 
If there could be no reformation I should agree with you, but I suppose you are not of that opinion: if you are, I ll do what I can to convert you, and I believe I have studied this Affair more than you have.  Bev. 
Come, now for the Defence, I'll be as short as possible; and what think you of the silence of the Scriptures, is this a warrant for the continuance of Comedy.  Sau. 
This puts the Theatre on an equal foot with other indifferent things, which are not hurtful in themselves, such as Bowling, moderate Gaming and Drinking, Music, and other Diversions, which are not injurious to a man's Fortune or Conscience, but by the circumstances that may attend them.  Bev. 

P. 132.  Every Foreign sentence is not recommended by the bare mention.  Sau. 
And why all this Sophistry, if he contradicts his meaning so soon after? Every sentence is not recommended, and who said it was? This is recommended, he owns it himself, this Verse of Menander 's is moral and sententious, and without doubt St Paul cited it to put the Christians upon their Guard. No body infers from St Paul's use of one Verse, that he approved all that Menander writ; but 'tis natural to infer from the Apostles consecrating this Verse, by giving it a place in the Gospel, he approved of some things of Menander's, and countenanced the Comic Writer, by serving himself of his words in the Law he was to deliver to Christians. This is an argument that a Stage may be allowed in a Christian Country, without offence to their Religion, when 'tis under the regulation that the Roman Stage was at first, and ours ought to be at present.  Bev. 
I affirm that Plays are plainly condemned in Scripture, etc. 
P. 133.   Sau. 
They are no more condemned, than the immoderate use of any lawful pleasure, or the abuse of the liberties of Conversation. When Plays are guilty of Blasphemy or Lewdness they are forbidden, because Blasphemy and Smut (as he's resolved to call it) are condemned in general; and if a man can't talk without talking lewdly, he is not allowed to talk at all; however, 'twould be extravagant enough to infer from thence, that talking is a sin. You must remember he said before, he was for Innocent Diversions, (speaking of the Stage) and elsewhere, that singularity, cowardice, etc. might do; and yet here he affirms, that Plays are plainly condemned in Scripture. If so, those Diversions can't be innocent, neither can Cowardice, Singularity, Covetousness, etc. do on the Theatre; and thus he's for Diversions which Scripture condemns. Those parts of Comedy which Holy Writ condemns, are things which are every where unlawful, and their coming from the Stage would not make 'em so, if they had not been so before. He is not long in the same humour, sometimes for a Drama, sometimes for none, but I hope in a little while no body will much matter what he's for, since men of the best sense and best Morals that have writ this age, allow and commend these Entertainments. La Bruyere, whom we can't quote too often, being a much more valuable Author than Mr Collier, or the Bp of Meaux, has frequently spoke well of a regulated Stage, and seems to wonder how 'tis possible that so fine a recreation should be made so useless, as 'thas been in the hands of the Modern Poets.  Bev. 
This is plain enough, Plays are not privileged to speak what is a crime to be spoken elsewhere.  Sau. 
But when they are innocent, as most of Corneille's and Racine's Tragedies are, and some of Moliere's Comedies, they are as warrantable from the silence of the Scriptures as all other diversions. Innocence and Decency should be the standard of Comedy and Tragedy, and since there are instances of Tragedies and Comedies, which have been discreet and innocent none should argue for their being unlawful, because there are many more which have not kept within those bounds: after this rate there would be nothing in the world which ought not to be condemned, since the most sacred things have been abused as often as the Theatre. Mr Collier has said as much to the purpose as the Bp of Meaux, whose authority I take to be little better than his own. Moliere's Preface to his L' Imposteur is so good an answer to that Prelate, that nothing can be said after it on the subject.  Bev. 
You looked it over yesterday, pray read it in English, I am not so perfect a Master of the French, that I will venture to hear it in the Original, lest I should not understand it throughly.  Sau. 
I'll translate it as well as I can, at least I will give you his meaning. Some scrupulous Sparks had got the Archbishop of Paris to forbid his Comedy the Stage. Tartuff being a Hypocrite, who, to answer the Character, spoke abundance of good things, at the same time that the audience knew him to be a Rascal. This Moliere thought allowable, and that he erred in t no more against his Religion than his Art, but the Colliers of those days were not of his opinion, they cried aloud against the wickedness of the Author, and prevailed with the Good Bishop to command, that it should not be represented. The case is the same with ours, and the Preface one of the best I ever saw.  
I know very well what these Gentlemen say in answer to this, they insinuate that the Theatre ought not to meddle with such matters. I ask under favour, where they learned this fine proposition, which they only suppose, and can in no wise prove. On the contrary, it may without question be demonstrated, that the Drama had its rise from Religion, and was a part of its Mysteries. The Spaniards our neighbours, seldom celebrate a Festival without some Theatrical representation, and even amongst us we derive its Birth from a Brotherhood, to whom the Hotel of Burgundy at present belongs. This place was set a part for representing the important Mysteries of our Faith; and there are Dramatical pieces now extant, in Gothick Characters, written by a Dr of the Sorbonne. What need have we to go so far, are not at this time Monsieur de Corneille's Religious Pieces shown there with universal applause.  
If the business of Comedy is to correct the Vices of Mankind, I know no reason why any one should plead privilege. This Vice (Hypocrisy) is much more dangerous in its consequences than any other, and we have seen the Theatre very successful in reformation. The most excellent treatises of Morality, are often less powerful than the strokes of satire. Nothing reproves the greatest part of Mankind more than painting their defects. 'Tis a great mortification to Vice to be exposed to the laughter of the world. One can easily enough bear with reproof, but can't endure raillery, and most men had rather be thought wicked than ridiculous. I am accused of putting Phrases of Piety into the mouth of my Impostor, and how could I have drawn the Character of a Hypocrite without it. 'Tis enough, I think, that I let the Audience know the guilty motives which induced him to speak such things; and I have forborn other consecrated terms which I thought every body would not care to hear put to an ill use. But in the Fourth Act he delivers a pernicious Moral. Has not the world heard it often repeated? Is there any thing new in my Comedy? And is there any reason to fear that a thing so universally abhorred, should make an impression on their minds? Have I made it dangerous by bringing it on the Theatre, or given it an authority by putting it in the mouth of a Villain. Sure there's no likelihood of that, and the Age ought either to approve the Comedy of Tartuff, or condemn all Comedies. This is what some persons lately have furiously aimed at, and the Theatre was never before so violently attacked: I can't deny but several Fathers of the Church have condemned the Stage; however, it must not be denied too that many of them have handled this subject more tenderly. By which means their authority is divided, and ruined by the division. All that can be drawn from this diversity of opinion in persons enlightened by the the same Revelation is, that they have judged differently of the Drama. The one considered it in its purity, the other in its corruption, confounded with those filthy shows, which were indeed beastly representations. In short, since we should discourse of things, and not of words, and the greatest part of the opposition proceeds from misunderstanding, we need only draw the Curtain, and behold the Stage as 'tis in itself, to see whether 'tis really condemnable. Without doubt, every one knows that Comedy is only an ingenious Poem, which by pleasant Lessons would correct men's faults. How then can it be censured but with injustice; besides, if we should hear what Antiquity says on this subject, we shall find the most famous Philosophers have spoke in praise of the Theatre, even those who profess the severest wisdom, and were incessantly crying out against the Vices of the age they lived in. We shall find Aristotle employed a great deal of time about the Drama, and took care to reduce the method of writing Plays into precepts of Art. We shall find that the greatest Heroes, and men of the highest Dignity, have thought it glorious to write them, and some who have not disdained to act in public what they composed in private. That Greece made the Esteem she had for this Art illustrious, by the vast expense and the Superb Theatres she honoured it with, and that the same Art received afterwards in Rome extraordinary encouragement. I don't mean in Rome, debauched under the liberty of her Emperors, but Rome when strict in discipline under the wisdom of her Consuls, and when the Roman Virtue was in its vigour. I own there has been a time when the Drama was corrupted. And what is there in the world free from Corruption? There's nothing, be it never so innocent, which men have not made Criminal. No art so wholesome, whose good intentions they have not reversed. Nothing so good in its self, which they have not abused by putting it to an ill use. Physic is an useful Science, and every body reveres it as one of the most excellent things we have among us. However, there was a time when 'twas odious, and has often been made use of in the Art of poisoning. Philosophy is a gift of Heaven: 'Twas given us to raise our Souls to the knowledge of a God, by contemplating what is wonderful in nature. Yet we are not ignorant that it has frequently been put to other uses, and publicly employed in supporting Impiety, even the most holy things have not escaped humane corruption. We see Villains every day abusing Piety, and making it a means to bring about their wicked designs; but we can distinguish as we ought the men from their Profession. We don't mingle in a false consequence, the goodness of the thing corrupted, with the malice of the Corrupter. We separate always the ill use from the intentions of an Art, and as we don't think fit to forbid Physic, because 'twas once banished from Rome nor Philosophy, for being publicly condemned in Athens, so we should not condemn the Stage, be-because 'twas censured at a certain time; there were reasons for that censure, which have no foundation now. I know there are some men of sense, (continues he a little farther) who are so nice, that they can't suffer any Plays whatever, who say, that those which are most honest are most dangerous, that the passions the Poets paint are the more hurtful, the more virtuous they appear, and that the Soul is too much softened by such Representations. I don't see where's the harm, if a man is softened at the sight of an honest passion. I own the degree of Virtue to which they would mount us by their extraordinary insensibility, is very exalted, but I question if Humane Nature in her own strength is capable of such perfection; and if 'tis not better to endeavour to rectify and sweeten humane passions, than quite extirpate them. I allow there are places which persons should choose rather to frequent than the Theatre; and if every thing is  which does not directly relate to God and our Salvation, Plays certainly ought not to be suffered, nor would we be sorry to see them condemned with the rest. But supposing (what is certainly true) that Religious Exercises should have some intervals, and men want recreation, I maintain none can be made more innocent than Comedy.  Bev. 
What says he afterwards?  Sau. 
Only a jest of the Prince of Conde's to the King on his Play.  Bev. 
Let us have it.  Sau. 
Eight days after his L' Imposteur was forbidden, a Piece was presented the Court called Scaramouch the Hermit. The King going out, said to the Prince, I would fain know why the men who are so scandalised at Moliere's Comedy, have not a word to say against this of Scaramouch. The Prince replied, the reason is the Comedy of Scaramouch plays with Heaven and Religion, for which these Gentlemen are little concerned, but Moliere's plays on themselves, and that they can by no means allow.  Bev. 
Monsieur de Meaux should have had this Preface before him when he set himself to write against the Stage. He has business enough on his hands with the Bishop of Cambray, perhaps that Controversy exhausted all his fine reasoning, 'tis well for the Theatre he was not at leisure to deal with it more severely.  Sau. 
I never could have an extraordinary opinion of men, who are so extremely charitable to Hypocrisy, as Mr Collier is, and the French Devotee's were in Moliere's time. I am apt to suspect they speak in their own cause, and are not so favourable to Hypocrites, but for the resemblance there is between them.  Sau. 
He tells us he has at present some business, or he would go on with Mr Dennis.  Sau. 
I would be glad to know if this Gentleman did not leave it to others to answer Mr Dennis, who he thinks has it more in their power to hurt him, I should suspect he has been busy about Westminster-hall and given in his Informations, but that I know he has an aversion to our Courts of Justice. The adversary must excuse me for putting him in mind so frequently of a public misfortune which once befell him: It does not at first sight look generous to play upon a man's unhappiness; but while he seems to value himself on his error, and insults the Age as if he had nothing to answer for; while he exclaims so much against those who have always defended the Government to the utmost of their power, and whose Wit has been ever severe with its enemies, one may lawfully remember the World who this man is. I'm sure he has not made himself an enemy, by affronting the Theatre, who would not serve the King and Kingdom with every thing which depends on him; and 'tis hard that a man who is the Poet's enemy because they are friends to the Government, should be suffered to triumph over them, as he does in all places where his merit is not known. And now we'll dismiss Mr Collier, where he does his Reader; I shall be glad if you think he has as much reason to rejoice that he has done with us, as we have that we have done with him.  Bev. 
I find there are a great many errors in his Books, and you have shown me several places where his stile is not so beautiful as I once thought it  Sau. 
I always hated to cavil about words, and could have objected against them oftener than I have, if I was not ashamed of fight with the wind. You might have been more merry with his affectation and pretences to Politeness, but that I am not of the opinion he says the Poets are, 
Short View, P. 159.  that laughing and pleasure has an unlimited prerogative; which for the Grammar of the Sentence I thought fit to make use of, and yet this fault is so obvious, that a Schoolboy would not have slipped it in three Editions of a Book. Other such mistakes I could have troubled you with, had not we found greater in this argument.  Bev. 
Yet to do both of you Justice, I think still the man has Wit, and you have Right of your side, what startled me most was, to find you were so close on him in those things which one would have thought he must have understood, and that you had the best of the Argument in matters of Religion.  Sau. 
You need not be surprised at this, 'tis easy to perceive how Mr Collier spends his time in his Closet. His Language, as bad as 'tis, is copied from our Plays; he imitates the brisk turn of their Repartees in his Sentences, and their Wit in his Similes, but imitates them so awkardly, that at first sight 'tis impossible to guests his Originals. I believe he has read as many Plays as Sermons, and has studied Father Hedelin, Rimer's, Aristotle, and his Views of Tragedy, Mr Dryden's Prefaces, and his Essay on Dramatic Poetry, as much as the Fathers or their Successors. But no more of Mr Collier. I see 'tis near Twelve, and I fancy you are prepared for your Dinner, if the Defence has not spoiled your Stomach.  Bev. 
No fear of that, Sir, you will find I don't take the matter so much to heart, though I would indeed never live long in an error.  Sau. 
If so, you must not long be governed by Report; Fame is as whimsical as Fortune, in the favours she bestows on her Votaries. Our Adversary is an Example of this; but she serves them generally as Fortune serves her favourites; she sets them down where she takes 'em up, which must certainly be very pleasant to those that know what the men were, and what they deserved in their intervals of reputation.  Bev. 
You go with me to the Play?  Sau. 
I have past my word, and I expect a friend after Dinner, who I'll engage shall give us his Company, you will be pleased with his humour and worth. I'll assure you he has no opinion of Mr Collier, for either of those Qualities, though he's the best natured man, and a man of as good sense as any I know.  Bev. 
His name.  Sau. 
You shall see him, and you will then be of of the same mind. Come, Sir, we are expected.  Bev. 
I see we had not a minute to spare.  Sau. 
I show you the way.  
The end of the third Dialogue.   

The Fourth Dialogue.  Bevill, Savage, and Beaumond, Sau. 
'TIs but three by my Watch, we shall be early enough for the Play two hours hence, after a run of eight days we need not fear being too much crowded.  Bev. 
You shall direct me; and I am the more willing to sit with you till then, that we may make an end of the argument we engaged in.  Sau. 
The Stage, I warrant ye, ' that been the subject of most of the Conversation of the Town for this last six months. The sage people in the City Coffeehouses have laid by their Politics, to consider how to pull down the Theatres, and the very News-mongers have taken up the dispute.  Bev. 
How so, Sir, I hear of nothing published against the Playhouse lately, but Mr Collier's Books, and the Stage Condemned.  Sau. 
Which they say was done by the Writer of the Flying-Post, and by the resemblance there is in the stile of that Paper, and the Book we mentioned, I am am apt to believe it.  Sau. 
Have you read it?  Beau. 
I should not have asked you such a Question; if you have seen it you may satisfy yourself, I am not so over inquisitive, as to give myself the fatigue of reading so many impertinent Sheets, especially after I had been informed who wrote them. I knew the Character of the Spark before, and was sure 'tis not in his power to do any thing useful or agreeable.  Sau. 
I know him, and though I never heard till now that 'twas he who gave us the Stage Condemned, yet I can almost be positive you are in the right. I read 20 or 30 pages of his Book, but his wretched Arguments, pitiful Style, and ill Manners, tired me before I got half over 'em. His affronting the Church of England in her Ministers, and abusing the Education of our Universities, discover plain enough that this Author must be some Fellow or another born on the other side of the Tweed.  Bev. 
You are very free with him; however, there are a great many who think well of the Book, let who will write it.  Sau. 
I have not met with one so intolerably in the wrong, as to have the least favour for this Republic an Letter Writer, and if you expect I should answer what he has said, or any part on't, you must excuse me for disappointing you.  Bev. 
No, Sir, I never expected it from you, we can spend our time better, I despise his performance, as much as you can, and could myself confound him.  Beau. 
Hold there, a person of his Forehead is not easily confounded.  Sau. 
That's to be seen by his Writings.  Bev. 
Well Gentlemen, to have done with the News-monger, what think you after all that Mr Collier has said, is there no necessity of a Reformation in the Stage, must the Play-wrights be suffered to go on with their abuse of Magistracy, Morals and Religion, and though Mr Collier may have erred in several things, is he not in the right in the main?  Beau. 
I can't tell that, and am loath to give my opinion of reforming the Drama, till I am sure the world will be satify'd with that: Whatever errors our Comic Writers have been guilty of, their Enemies have not yet hit on 'em, at least on any of the most material. 'Tis not in their power to ruin 'em but by noise and force, and those who love their pleasure as well as I, are in the wrong to give their Enemies any advantages over 'em, or put weapons in their hands to hurt them. If the Stage ought to be corrected, the men of sense can only put us in a way, and they will not set about it while there are such powerful Parties declaring for no Plays at all.  Bev. 
I am not one of 'em, and should be glad to see some method proposed to keep up both Houses, without endangering the virtue of their Audiences, and I love their Entertainments too well to be willing to part with 'em, if they can be maintained without offence to Manners or Conscience.  Beau. 
Which certainly they may, none ever doubted the contrary, that was able to judge in this Affair, and those who attack this sort of Poetry, will afterwards find exceptions against the Muses in general. Music will next offend 'em, and every one that has not a good ear or a tolerable judgement in the art, will cry out against the danger of Fiddles and Hautboys.  Bev. 
That will be severe indeed.  Beau. 
I think the other is much more so. Music affords all its admirers a wonderful delight, when they are truly touched with it; yet this delight goes no farther than an amusement for the present. Whereas at a Dramatical Representation the passions are wrought up so forcibly, and the Images appear so lively, that the Impressions stick on the Audience, and may be advantageous to them in their Conduct in the world. 'Tis strange, the Sages are so angry with the Theatre; are not there an hundred other Diversions more prejudicial to a man's health and fortune? No body attempts to shut up our Tavern doors, and yet without all manner of dispute, they give occasion to much more Extravagance, Immorality, and Debauchery, than the Playhouses are charged with. The Stage aims at bringing men to their sense, the Taverns assist them to lose the little Reason they have; and yet they are so necessary in Commerce and Society, that 'twould be monstrous to talk of prohibiting Wine, because some Scowrers have been hanged for their drunken frolicks. Besides, a Bottle is a leveller, a Blockhead can drink as much as a man of Wit, and in most of those conversations, if there is any more respect paid to one than another, he that carries off most Claret is the greatest man. The Wife and Great are sometimes refreshed, and can debauch in the Taverns without scandal, but at the Theatre they would be soon discovered, and when they are there, they are not treated so tenderly as to engage their good word. Gaming, which has ruined a thousand Families of the best Extraction, made great numbers of Gentlemen Beggars, and tempted so many of the fair to very odd excesses to support themselves under their ill fortune, is a Vice which every one rails at, but no body attempts to get rid on't.  Sau. 
The Gamesters are an easy, complaisant sort of people, they reflect on the understandings of no man, and let others Intellects alone as long as their own are spared. But your Wits are a malicious Generation, they won't forgive a man his foppery, nor let a Fool impose himself any where for a Wit. They attack the Coxcombs wherever they meet them, and fall foul on the Capacities of some, who are thought extraordinary men in the Companies they frequent. The Fools, and Knaves, Fops, and Hypocrites are by much the majority, no wonder then if men of sense and honour find a multitude to oppose them.  Bev. 
But they are the honest men and men of Conscience, who set themselves against the Playhouse; who are of the opinion that Plays are the great instruments of Debauching youth. Mr Collier has awakened their zeal, and the dispute is now whether they have reason.  Beau. 
I don't think that an honest and a sensible man can imagine so ridiculous a thing, as that the Theatres are the Nurseries of Immorality, any more than other Houses set apart for pleasure. All our pleasures have been of late corrupted, even those that were designed to cure us of our Vices and Follies. This proceeds from the licentiousness of the Age, and whence that proceeded, any who are acquainted with the Liberty of the Restoration can inform you.  Bev. 
Well, since you own all our pleasures are corrupted, you allow the Theatre to be guilty with the rest: why then should it not be put down. You will not pretend to have it kept up, because there are other places of Recreation as dangerous, nor plead the looseness of our other diversions to vindicate this.  Beau. 
No, Sir, but I must observe thence, that 'tis very odd for men to fall on a pleasure which may be made useful, and at the same time let others remain unattackt, which can never be rendered any thing more than agreeable to put a profitable and pleasant thing quite down, because that done some mischief, argues want of thought in those who pretend to't. As if there was no way of preventing the ill consequence of the Stage, but by forbidding all Theatrical representations.  Sau. 
I don't question but the very wise, and very zealous people, who declare against the Drama, have those sentiments, and believe the only way to reform 'em is to silence the Poets.  Beau. 
They may believe what they will, zeal more than once has carried those very wise people to judge of things above their reach. I have known a bigoted Cavalier ridiculed by a Father of the Church, for his forwardness to correct the Age, by ways that would destroy it. If men's Reason and Religion don't go together, I shall not value what they pretend to in either.  Sau. 
'Tis pleasant to hear some grave Sparks rail at the Stage, and condemn all that speak for't, when if you ask them seriously, they shall own, they never read the arguments on either side, nor saw a Play in their lives.  Bev. 
Granting the men who oppose the Theatre are as great Blockheads as their Adversaries would make 'em, Fools have sometimes been in the right, and 'tis no matter if their fear of satire, or their Charity to the Age is the cause of their aversion, provided their pretences are well grounded.  Beau. 
This Gentleman sticks very close to us, he'll not have the argument thrown off; he brings us to our Text, when we have a mind to ramble. 'Tis not that we cannot defend the proposition we laid down, that a Stage is useful, but for my part I amed extremely fond to answer objections, which rather deserve to be despised, and to take notice of them is to do 'em too much honour. I would not that you should fancy, Sir, I reflect on what you have said, I'm sure you speak other men's sentiments, and not your own.  Sau. 
My friend is of our opinion, but his acquaintance are all against him; he does not study these things very often, and talks of 'em now that he may know the better how to vindicate the Stage in the Company he keeps.  Beau. 
I shall be ready to give him all the satisfaction I can, but the Gentlemans own reason will save us the trouble of a long argument, which I should be loath to enter upon more for his own sake than ours.  Bev. 
You'll excuse me that, I desire you to continue this discourse. You have heard what makes me so curious in this Affair, and I may by your assistance save myself from a great deal of impertinence for the future.  Sau. 
Tho I am convinced that a Drama is or may be rendered profitable as well as pleasant, and that ours, as faulty as 'tis, has not been instrumental in debauching the Age, as much as Gaming-Houses and Taverns, yet I confess it wants a reformation; however, I have not seen any thing offered towards it, either reasonable or practicable. Some are for settling Supervisors over the Theatre, and in this they have not been over judicious in their choice. If a man of no relish in Poetry has a power given him to cut and mangle the Plays that are brought to him at his pleasure, this might do the gentlemen's business who are for no Theatrical Representations; for the Audience would be soon disgusted with such dismembered pieces, and the Poets ashamed to own 'em. Such a Critic would be most severe on what he least understood, and the Beauties of a Play might suffer thro' his ignorance.  Bev. 
He should take cognizance of nothing but Profaneness, Immorality and Indecency.  Beau. 
There are many persons to be found, who would be severe enough with the appearance of Evil, if there was a good Pension settled on 'em to encourage their Virtue: But I'm afraid our new Officer would in time be less important in this case, than the person, who by his place is to examine all Comedies and Tragedies, and leave out of any of 'em what he finds Profane, Immoral or Indecent.  Bev. 
Has any one at present that power?  Beau. 
There's never a Play acted, which is not licenc'd by his Majesties Commission; and the same Commission regulated as it ought, is as sufficient to bring the Stage to order, as a new one would be; and every Poet will much rather submit to the decision of the Master of the Revels, than the humour of an Author, who, because he can Rhyme an Ode or an Elegy, shall think himself qualified to Govern the Drama, and judge arbitrarily of things above his capacity. Besides, such a Director would soon be weary of his Post, he must deal with a people who will not part with a tittle of their Writings without very good reason, which you will imagine when you hear that one of them has offered a Finger for half a Page, and a Limb for a whole one, and a man may not be willing or able at all times to give a reason for his Criticism. He would then be exposed to the malice of those who know how to revenge themselves on all, that thro' ignorance or obstinacy oppress them.  Bev. 
I am told, one of considerable rank in Parnassus has offered his service.  Beau. 
Any one who has suffered from the Theatre, and every one suffers that has not succeeded there when he has attempted it, is not a proper person to be set over it. He comes to his Government, resolved to treat it as a thing which has affronted him, and 'twill be hard for the Poets to have their Enemy for their Judge. Let those be Masters of the Stage, whose right it always was to command it, and to whom 'tis natural for the Authors to submit. If they have spared 'em too much, their own Masters may caution 'em to the contrary, who, with a little care, may reform our dramatical representations, easier and sooner than any new managers.  Bev. 
They take no notice of the ill things in our Comedies, since Mr Collier came out. We have seen as lewd a a Farce as ever was acted at the Playhouse suffered to be represented there.  Sau. 
I know what you mean; 'twas lewd and silly enough o' conscience, but I have been informed by some of the House, that 'twas Clandestinely brought on, and the Character of the Play little known, even to those who took it; however, the mischief it did, was not great, and it had much ado to keep up 3 or 4 days.  Beau. 
I hope all such pieces will meet with such treatment. The fault is more in the Poet's understanding than their Morals, and their Audiences are more defective in their taste of Wit, than their approbation of Vice. When the Town shall not be pleased with extravagant thoughts, irregular scenes, incoherent metaphors, wild rants, monstrous characters, unnatural images, insipid as well as brutal humours, Vice, Immorality, and Profaneness, will appear no more at the Theatre. When the senseless Ballads of one Writer, the impertinent brisk Dialogues of another, the insufferable Fustian of a third, the Alsatian Conversation, and mean rakelly sentiments of a fourth, the confused independent scenes of this author, the grimace and postures of that shall be hist off the Stage, Mr Collier's smut, ill manners, and irreligion, will vanish: Then good Sense, true Wit, fine Humour, delicate Raillery, and polite Conversation, will supply their place: Then Fools will be exposed to be laughed at, and not to be imitated: Hypocrites will appear in odious colours, to adorn the Character of truly Religious, and sincere Christians, and Knaves will make on the Stage no better figure than they do at the Bar. 'Tis a difficult task for the Poets to take their pictures from nature, and yet to give 'em a turn that may at once delight and in struck. The Writers of Farce could never reach this: they have all along been clapped for their wry mouths and apish Gestures. Their Audiences have laughed at their folly, they mistook it for liking their Characters, and this they have called pleasing and taking. Perhaps the upper Gallery has liked their pictures, for Hemskirk's with the Mob, are preferable to Raphael's or Titians, but 'tis preposterous for the people of sense and condition to be directed by the crowd in their taste of Wit, or their favours on the Stage Writers. The multitude may at first not agree with the men of sense, but though the majority be for a time against them, 'tis their prerogative to rule, and their superior reason gives them a privilege to direct the public relish in these matters, with whom the Multitude will in the end certainly fall in. If the best part of the Town would no longer encourge illiterate Writers, but take some care that they may be silenced and not starved, the men of Wit would then be proud to please them. Emulation, the Mother of the most excellent productions, would bring forth many more pleasant and instructive things than we can expect, while Whim and Ribaldry are applauded, and those who writ for the Theatre keep such bad Company. This is certain, no Poet ever erred against Manners or Religion, but 'twas at the expense of his Art; those who know nothing of it can't help erring, for which reason they are not to be endured. But the Masters of the Science will observe its precepts which them confine, never to please, but in order to instruct. A Reformation in this is necessary, which time only must accomplish, for men's understandings are not like their actions, subject to Laws, nor any other discipline than Reproof and satire. The Farce-makers are in a fair way to impose on the Town no longer. There are more good Judges in Poetry and Music now than there ever were in England. Wit declines in all the Southern Nations of Europe, where it flourished long before it came to any perfection with us. The Dramatical pieces which are represented on Foreign Theatres, will hardly even at Paris get credit with the Press. And 'twould be Northern policy to forbid an Art which we possess almost in perfection, at least in a wonderful degree above our Neighbours, though they are by their Climates born to excel us. I have told you what I think of the Stage, and if Mr Collier can help to correct its errors on these accounts, I'll answer for t, that he shall have no reason to complain on any other.  Sau. 
I had an opportunity to speak something on this yesterday, and I was absolutely of your opinion, that 'tis only those whose Wit is as scandalous to the Stage as their Manners, who promote the disorders we find in our Drama. 'Tis true, some men of better sense have descended to follow them in many things, which the madness of Pit, Box, and Gallery has given success to. But these Gentlemen have blushed at their own good Fortune, and been ashamed to be applauded on those terms; applause is yet so charming, that there are few who would not please on any. The Rants and things which have been out of nature in our best Plays, are those places which are most clapped, the caprice of the Audience has put the Poets on seeking for variety to the disadvantage of their Art, and taking a liberty unknown to Aristotle or Horace their Masters. Good Wits will be glad to find the Town inclinable to be diverted regularly, 'tis as easy for them to give their Audience an inoffensive Entertainment as the contrary. My Lord Ruscommon has laid it down for a Maxim in Poetry, that Want of decency is want of sense. And none will presume to affirm that any thing spoken against Religion is not indecent. The burlesquing Scripture and ridiculing sacred things, swearing, wanton actions and expressions; and most of Mr Collier's exceptions against our Plays, fall under this Charge. They are all the height of indecency where the objections are just, and when the evil is wrapped up in a double meaning, the hurt is the more dangerous; wherefore Montaign is for being plain in all cases, the finess of the turn, makes the Ladies sometimes listen to a passage, which had otherwise frighted 'em, and they had startled at its being named; but a Pill is nevertheless nauseous for being gilded, it only qualifies its appearance, and makes it the easier to be swallowed. I don't say thus much to insinuate myself into the favour of Mr Collier or his Advocates. I am not the first that made this discovery, neither is the honour of finding out the liberty of the Stage Writers, to be attributed to the Author of the Short View. Many hundreds had in common conversation said more to the purpose before he broke silence, only they had not given themselves the trouble to put their thoughts into such pert Sentences, and divided 'em into Chapters; neither did they think it necessary to accuse the Stage or its authors, of Crimes which they are not guilty of, as he has done. They charged some things on the folly of the Poets, and some things on the licentiousness of the Age. The Poets ever followed the humour of the times. In this they have been too faulty. They ought to observe in what that humour is irregular, and correct it, wherein our Comedies, as bad as they are, have in some measure been serviceable. The Age was running mad after the foppery of the French Court, which made abundance of young Fellows study how to ontvieone another in tawdry and vanity Fops have been the continual sport of the Theatre, and the name of Bean, which was once used as a Title of honour, is enough now to draw the Sparks Sword out of its Scabbard, as willing as it may be to stay there. Manners have been much bettered in this point, by the tricks those Monkeys in the form of men have played on the Stage. Affectation, the ruin of the best endowments, has grown out of fashion, and nature been made the standard of our words and actions. There is nothing more scandalous, than to stand out against this reproof, and we can hardly meet with a Coxcomb daring enough to play his fools part in public, since his Coat has been so plentifully coloured by the Poets red and yellow. The Grave Sages who are wedded to their Bands and Trunk-breeches, are as little obliged to 'em as the Beaus, but they think a Reformation in  of no great consequence, and so perhaps will most who shall hear this argument. It will seem trivial at first, but when we consider of what importance the most wise and most potent States have thought irregularity in dress, what Edicts were published by the Spartan and Roman Commonwealths, how many Judgements have been denounced in Scripture against wanton or superfluous habits; and how many Sermons in all Languages have been preached on this subject, we shall not have so little opinion of the good our Comedies do in this particular, as some men may fancy; they have brought us to a decency in apparel, which, without it, I believe could have hardly been accomplished by the severity of a Law: For this has made us willing to appear like men. We have seen, and been convinced, of the weakness of the French in valuing themselves on their Ribbons and Feathers, and by common consent are reduced to the most modest habit in the world; so much might be said, and a great deal more for the present Stage. But since 'tis requisite, it should be regulated, and easy to effect it, we'll not think of pretending to keep it on its present establishment, unless it could not be brought into better order, which is both feasible and convenient. I must confess I had rather have this Stage than none at all; for I am in hopes that ill Plays and ill Writers will be put out of countenance more and more every day, especially if the Author of Love for Love, who is giving the world a new Comedy, shall continue to write, or some other great Genius take up the Quarrel with Vice and Folly.  Bev. 
I preceive you lay the stress of the argument on the ignorance of the the Writers, and not the lewdness of the Stage.  Beau. 
Most certainly. So much has been said by the best Pens, in vindicating this kind of Poetry, which Aristotle prefers to Heroics, that 'twould be infamous to question whether Comedy or Tragedy are hurtful in themselves. I can remember the definition of a great Critic of both Tragedy and Comedy. Tragedy, he says, rectifies the use of the passions, by moderating Terror and Pity, which are obstacles to Virtue. It teaches mankind that Vice never goes unpunished; in representing a wicked man, such as Egistheus in the Electra of Sophocles, punished for his Crimes, after he had for several years gloried in his wickedness. It shows us, that the favours of Fortune, and worldly Grandeur, are not real blessings, when we see an unfortunate Queen, like the Hecuba of Euripides, lamenting her Condition in the most mournful accents. Comedy, which is the image of common Conversation, corrects public defects, by showing the ridiculousness of private. Aristophanes in his Harranguers, was merry with the foolish vanity of Praxagora, only to cure other women of their vanity; and Plautus had no other design in exposing the false bravery of a Braggo-docio, in his Glorious Soldier, but to let the Roman Soldiers see in what true Valour consisted. Thus says our Author, and let any one judge then if the Drama is dangerous in itself: There can be no pretence that the Plays of the Ancients were more instructive than ours, at least I'm sure their Comedies were not; and the best of 'em to be represented on our Stage, would make but an insipid entertainment. The Ancients, particularly Aristotle, have left very few reflections on Comedy, either they did not admire that sort of writing so much as we do, or else the Ridiculous was not brought to such perfection as the Modern Italians, Spaniards, and French have given it, and the English much more than either of 'em, or the Latin Comic Poets. If our Authors are excelled by Plautus and Terence in some things, they have the advantage of 'em in more Humour which was in a great degree unknown to the Roman Writers, is the peculiar Talon of the English, and this is the most agreeable, and perhaps the most useful part of Comedy. Yet though the Latins were unacquainted with this their notion of Comedy was quite different from the wise men of these times. Comaedia multum profuit civitati: cum caveret unusquisque Culpam, ne spectaculo caeteris esset, & demestico prob●o, says Donatus, who had never seen any thing comparable to our Plain Dealer, a much better Play than was ever presented to the people of Rome; and whoever reads it, and understands what he reads, must confess that there are more good sense, useful satire, and pleasantry in that Comedy, than in any of the Ancients, or perhaps in any one Book that has been published in Europe since the restoration of Wit and Learning, Rapine in his Reflections on Poetry owns, that Tragedy seems to be our Talon, but gives those reasons for't, that discover plainly, he knew little of our Language or Genius, which one may venture to affirm, are much more adapted to the sublime than the French, and the Pathetic of our Tragedies, where the passions have been well moved, is much above what they can boast of. Yet 'tis not Terror only in which we excel 'em, and we are not too hard for them there, because, as he insinuates, we are Insularies, and a people fond of Slaughter and Cruelty, but from the greatness of our Minds and excellence of our Reason; and this I hope I may say without being accused of complementing my Nation when we don't deserve it. All that are conversant with Mr Dryden's All for Love, and Oedipus. Shakespear's Hamlet and Macbeth, and part of Lee's Lucius Junius Brutus, know that I am not guilty of the least flattery, and that they can't give an instance of one Play in French even of Corneille's, where the passion of Terror is better touched, than in these Authors. The French fancy they are particularly happy in moving Pity in their Tragedies, yet this passion has appeared on our Stage as lively, as ever Racine brought it on theirs. Otway's Venice Preserved, and Orphan, part of Lee's Brutus, some scenes of Mr Southern's Fatal Marriage, and part of the Mourning Bride, are examples of as penetrating tenderness as any we can find in the Berenice or Bajazet, or, in short, in the best of Racine's pieces, who is most excellent when he is touching that passion. You will not think this vindication of our Poets, against the malice or ignorance of our Enemies foreign to our subject, 'twill in some degree give weight to the argument. For if we have the advantage of our Neighbours in things on which they value themselves most, 'twould be great weakness to disencourage an Art, which may in time contribute to an Glory.  Bev. 
If the Art is not dangerous, as you have gone a great way in proving, I should be sorry to see the Poets balked, or their Science suffer under scandal, when it may enlarge our Reputation for Wit, which we have not till now been much renowned for.  Beau. 
The Author of the Letter to Mr Congreve, who, if 'tis not Mr Collier, is to be sure Mr Collier's bosom friend, and one of his own Coat, allows, that if the Stage would have nothing to say to the Clergy, and their Cause, he would think it no unjustifiable diversion, And adds, that a celebrated Female has lately convinced the world in her Fatal Friendship, that ' iis possible to entertain with all the judgement, wit and beauty of Poetry, without shocking our senses with intolerable profaneness and obscenity. This from the mouth of an Adversary is great condescension; for whoever wrote that Letter, 'twas done by the approbation of the Short Viewer, as without doubt he recommended it to his Bookseller, no that any one need value themselvest on the honour of being the Author on't, and his approving such a Writer, is another proof of his Judgement in polite Learning. This Gentleman tells Mr Congreve, 'twas not generous to insult on his Adversaries misfortune, at the same time that in two or three pages he shows his good will to do as much by him in his impotent raillery on the presentment of the Quarter Sessions; however, no body takes his reflections to touch any one's reputation so much as the Presenters, which I hope may be said without danger of a praemunire. He adds, that though Mr Collier might have been liberal of his Absolutions, the Stage and those who writ for't are like to go without them. He should not have denied the Poets that favour till they had asked it, and might very well have spared himself that opportunity of showing his ill nature.  Sau. 
I never saw this pamphlet, but I perceive 'tis a merry one: Pray is there nothing more in't as extraordinary?  Beau. 
Yes, he says, he could never meet with a Dramatic Poet that could write good Prose.  Sau. 
That's extremely new and surprising, I thought every one allowed the Stage to be always a promoter of Eloquence.  Beau. 
You must excuse him, Language is out of his way, and Mr Collier wants help too much himself to be able to assist another in his Style. What thinks this Gentleman of Mr Dryden, Mr Waller, Mr Otway, Mr Tate, Mr Dennis, or indeed of most that have written for the Stage. Those who have not succeeded for their wit and humour, have yet been happier in their Language, than the best of other Writers, whose profession requires them to be Eloquent (three or four excepted.) The Play-writers have published very few things in Prose besides their Plays, and I hope Dialogism is not a fault there. What they have done has not been excelled by the most famous Essays, written by Mr Collier, or his admirers, and I might drive this argument farther, but they'll tell me 'tis designed to affront the whole Clergy, whom I shall not reverence the less, because the greatest part of 'em are not eminent for the Beauties of their Style.  Bev. 
Have you seen the Bishop of Meauxes Book against the Stage?  Beau. 
I read it almost thro' lately, and the Prelate has shown more Piety than Reason in his controversy. A man that shall condemn Marriage because 'tis the end of an obscene passion, must be very nice in all things which relate to Love: And 'twould be in vain to attempt vindicating the most innocent pleasures with persons so over-scrupulous as this Bishop, or those whose zeal is as celestial as Tertullian's: Who says we ought not to go to the Theatre, because the same hands are lifted up there to applaud an Actor, which we lift up to Heaven in our Devotion. These are extraordinary examples of Virtue; they think their abstinence will be serviceable to 'em hereafter, and make their good works the ground of their hopes. I shall not give myself the trouble to convert any persons whose Consciences are so squeamish, 'twill be best for all that dare not think of Matrimony without blushing, nor clap what they like in an Actor, or any other public performance of Music and Dancing, for fear of profaning their Fingers, to avoid the least temptation of coming within the Playhouse doors.  Bev. 
There's not much in these objections. If the Bishop and the Father have none more to the purpose I think the Stage justifiable against either of 'em.  Beau. 
You can't expect any thing from persons who reason so oddly. This is some of the zeal which is without foundation, and which is more dangerous than the liberty of the Theatre, as it ought to be improved. There are several other exceptions in the Father and the Bishop, but I did not think 'em weighty enough to remember 'em, and you have them almost all in Mr Collier's Books.  Bev. 
Where we have found 'em of very little consequence, perhaps 'twas because they were set with his; a good thing as well as a good man, may be spoiled by ill Company.  Beau. 
Mr Collier has said nothing of his own, but what is more forcible than either the Bishop of Meaux or Tertullian, and if you are convinced that what he has alleged has been answered by those who have examined him, you need not be at any pains to read either the one or the other, for their names are the most powerful things you'll meet with.  Bev. 
You would not leave the Theatre on its present foot, without any amendments.  Beau. 
I am very willing it should be amended, provided the Alterations will not shake its foundation. I believe it may be put into a good method by those who have the care on't. If their Masters observe them more curiously for the future. Any other project for their regulation will be as fatal to 'em, as projects are generally to the Affairs of the public, good for nothing but to put things into confusion. I am told the men ought to sit in one place and the women in another, that no woman should dare to appear at the Playhouse with a Mask on, that a part of their profits should go to the poor, and that a Box should be set up there as in the French Churches. The Actors should live like Monks under the discipline of a Governor, and the Actresses talk thro' Grates like so many Sisters, and that it should be criminal in them to speak to any out of their Cue. These are fair notions, and become the sanctity of those Reformers who can find faulst, but make more in amending 'em. When our Plays are better writ, the people of both Sexes will find little time for their intrigues. Ill women won't have patience to do penance three hours, for the sake of picking up a Cully. They'll not endure to see themselves represented as odious as their Characters are in themselves, nor suffer the lash of true satire for a Supper and Coach-hire. The Theatre will be as terrible to 'em as a House of Correction. The Ladies will then come oftener to the Houses, and there will be no need of complementing the Masks to get a full Pit. Those who make their Dialogues with those Creatures, their Entertainment at the Theatre, will abandon it. When the temptation they had to come there ceases, and their places will be filled by men of sense and honour, that can't now with pleasure see the brutality of such Blockheads treated so tenderly, as the Poets have used 'em lately, to engage Company, and draw an Audience together. This change will come of course when the writers for the Stage shall keep up to their Art, and remember that they are not to please but in order to instruct. Religious Assemblies will be then as fair an opportunity for the disorderly assignations of ill women, as the Pit or Gallery, especially if Churches and Meeting-houses are frequented by 'em now for those ends, which I suppose is too well known to be questioned. If women will after this wear their Vizards at the Playhouse, why mayn't they be allowed to do so there as well as elsewhere, and to take away that liberty from 'em, would be a point of Reformation, which has nothing in it but the form of Godliness. You'll pardon me for being so tedious on so trivial an objection, which, if you will have it, I had rather relinquish than make more words about it.  Sau. 
Well, what say you to the Poor, and the Actors and Actresses?  Beau. 
I know no more reason why the Actors should thrash and sweat for the poor, than any other profession. Leave 'em at their choice, to be as charitable as they please, and this I will venture to say for them, that they give more away to their Brethren and their Families in want, and other good uses, than any other profession whatever of their number. Those who would have 'em obliged to dispose of part of their profits to the poor, ground their argument on a supposition, that they live a lazy sort of a life, and their business only contributes to our pleasures. By the way, you may be sure they know nothing of their business when they think 'tis a lazy Employment. I question if a Thresher in a Barn wastes himself more than 'tis necessary for a good Actor, or that any employ is more laborious than that which takes up the thought so much as it must do to learn, rehearse, and act their parts, especially such long ones, so humorous or heroic as some of them are. If 'tis because their business contributes only to our pleasure, why is there not here as in Holland, a Box set up in every Ordinary, to receive the alms of the good fellows who carouse there. The heat of the Wine often warms their Charity, and they hope to compound for their debauches by their generosity to the poor. This is a very whimsical piece of Devotion. How many other professions are there, and perhaps manufactures, which are designed for nothing but our pleasures, where there is not the least pretence of use unless for the bread they afford his Majesties Subjects. And why are not the Ribbond-weavers, Feather-shops, Perfumers, and a hundred more trades I could name, ordered to set aside a portion of their gains, to make the Church Wardens and Overseers merry, and buy some new Gowns and Badges for the neighbouring Hospitals?  Sau. 
Well, Sir, since I see you are not weary of the dispute, let's hear what you would have done with the Actors and Actresses. There are abundance will tell you, they are an insufferable Generation, and will quote you Statutes which has called 'em as many names as they do one another in a scuffle.  Beau. 
I am not one of those that set up for reforming the Age, I find it difficult enough to keep my own actions free from censure, and if every body would be careful how they give offence to Religion or Manners, we might save a great many honest, well-meaning Gentlemen much trouble, and some select Societies a vast charge to little purpose. Those who are paid for the good they do, may study ways and means to reform the Players, and restore the Sobriety and Chastity of Oliver's Soldiers among the Army; for my part, I consider I am only accountable for my own errors. Those that suppose they are to answer for the errors of other men, aught to take care that the Age is as innocent as may be. Actors, as well as their Fellow Subjects, are liable to the Laws made against Immorality and Profaneness. If the Statutes were decently and impartially put in execution, the Players would be found as Governable as their Neighbours. This is certain, their business is not of its self unlawful. We have seen it proved, that the Drama is not only lawful but useful, of course then the Actors are no otherwise guilty than for the Crimes which their folly and looseness draw them into. And what Society of men is there who can plead perfect innocence? Their temptations are not more extraordinary than other men's, unless that their men and women converse behind the Scenes promiscuously, which may tempt 'em to too much liberty: This may be easily provided against by those who have the charge of the Theatre. I believe Dancing-Schools and Balls have debauched more women, and women of much more importance as to their families, though the concern of every Soul is equal, than all the Playhouses in Europe. The favours which the fair Sex have thrown away on some of the Actors, and the countenance men of Quality have put on the Function, by allowing 'em to be familiar with 'em, have been the occasion of the boldness of the men. They have taken up notions of honour from their company and books, which not being born with 'em, they could not well manage, and have occasioned several Riots, that may be easily prevented; If Gentlemen were more cautious how they make an acquaintance with 'em, not but that there are some of 'em even now (when I believe the Companies are not the most innocent which ever were) who know very well how to keep within their Character, and make themselves agreeable wherever they come. The women are ruined by the fondness of some Fops to be first in their good graces, and fancying it a high honour to have the smile of a Roxana or Statira. Let the Scene keepers be charged as strictly as they can to suffer no body to come among their Players. Let the Conversation of the Stage be as narrowly watched as possible; and think on what ways you will to make their men modest and their women chaste: but if this is not presently to be effected, let us not lose a profitable and pleasant diversion, because there are inconveniencies attending it. You may by the same rule put down the Wells, and make Tunbridge and Bath a Desert, if you'd keep up no places where 'tis probable men and women will intrigue. Who is there that has any knowledge of Bath, Tunbridge or Epsom, that has not heard of many unaccountable things done there, and as long as the liberty of Conversation is general at the Wells or elsewhere, there will be Amours, till the Age is of its self grown purer. We might name he meetings at Islington, Lambeth, etc. but they are so infamous, that they ought to be treated like the Consorts at Stepney or moorfield's. On the whole, if I were to give my sentiments of the Stage, I should not make any alteration in the form of its management as 'tis at present. I should be for laying a mulct, or some other punishment, on those who are faulty in their offices relating to't. The person who presides over the examining all Plays should be answerable for the errors in them, as much as the Licencers of Books were for what was offensive to Religion or the State, while the Press was under their Jurisdiction. But as the ill consequences of things brought on the Stage, which are injurious to Conscience or Government, are more dangerous than such as are printed in the Books or Pamphlets which are published, so the punishment should be severer than what has been laid on those offenders. And the Officer in whose power 'tis to Licence or forbidden any Play the Stage, aught to have some consideration from the Poet for the risk he runs on his account. For let a man be never so exact, something may escape him in the passions of a Tragedy, or freedom of Comic conversation, which may not every where agree with our duty to Heaven and our Neighbour. 'Twill be difficult for our Farce-makers to do any thing which this person will think tolerable, when he is himself narrowly observed. And I believe those that know better are so much ashamed of the weakness they gave way to, that there will be no complaint against 'em for the future. I must do Mr Collier the Justice to confess, I believe his Books have been the occasion that the Town looked nicely into the Theatre, and have thence been disgusted with what they thought too vicious, which has deterred many from venturing there lately and set the Poets on their guard how they run into their former extravagance, or make sallies from their art any more to please a herd of Fops and Scoundrels, whose company can neither support 'em, nor their applause give 'em the least hopes of an eternal name. Their praise will change with their humours, though they will be constant to one character of folly and lewdness, which will never get those who endeavour to please 'em any lasting Credit, for nothing but true merit is immortal.  Bev. 
You have convinced me Gentlemen, of the unreasonableness of those people, who are perpetually declaring against the Stage, and I must own myself of your opinion, that its present Directors may be as serviceable towards freeing it from Immorality and Profaneness, as any new person some would have set over it. I have quite another notion of the art than I had a week ago, though I was always inclined to believe myself in the wrong, being extremely pleased with Dramatical Representattons. We have had a drug of 'em lately, Women and Boys have attempted to divert the Town. They have sometimes succeeded, which encourages every little Rhimer to strut in Buskins. I am as much a Servant to the fair, as the most complaisant, but they have never yet charmed me on the Stage, unless with their Action. I could never compliment 'em at the expense of my understanding, and love the Stage too well to flatter any one to write for't, that I think can't support it.  Sau. 
Then you would have no body write who is not fortunate?  Beau. 
Hold, I must answer for the Gentleman. A man may not be fortunate at one time, and yet succeed at another. An Audience may be in an ill humour one day, and in too good a one the next. How many things have taken and been damned out of a whim. Where an author keeps to nature he must first or last please, and instruction will always accompany the pleasure.  Bev. 
You forgot where we were to adjourn, 'tis near Five, and I am loath to miss the opportunity of having your company at the Play.  Sau. 
I am engaged to go with you, and I would not have us part now, till we have seen it together.  Beau. 
When I come out 'twas to spend the evening with you, and I think we can't do it better.  
FINIS.   

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