A Short Vindication OF THE RELAPSE AND THE Provoked Wife, FROM Immorality and Profaneness By the AUTHOR. LONDON: Printed for H. Walwyn, at the Three Legs in the Poultry, against the Stock-market. MDCXC VIII. A Short Vindication of the Relapse and the Provoked Wife, from Immorality and Profaneness. WHEN first I saw Mr. Collier's Performance upon the Irregularities of the Stage (in which amongst the rest of the Gentlemen, he's pleased to afford me some particular Favours), I was far from designing to trouble either myself or the Town with a Vindication; I thought his Charges against me for Immorality and Profaneness were grounded upon so much Mistake, that every one (who had had the curiosity to see the Plays, or on this Occasion should take the trouble to read 'em) would easily discover the Root of the Invective, and that 'twas the Quarrel of his Gown, and not of his God, that made him take Arms against me. I found the Opinion of my Friends and Acquaintance the same, (at least they told me so) and the Righteous as well as the Unrighteous persuaded me, The Attack was so weak, the Town would defend itself; That the General's Head was too hot for his Conduct to be wise; his Shot too much at Random ever to make a Breach; and that the Siege would be raised, without my taking the Field. I easily believed, what my Laziness made me wish; but I have since found, That by the Industry of some People, whose Temporal Interest engages 'em in the Squabble; and the Natural Propensity of others, to be fond of any thing that's Abusive; this Lampoon has got Credit enough in some Places to brand the Persons it mentions with almost as bad a Character, as the Author of it has fixed upon himself, by his Life and Conversation in the World. I think 'tis therefore now a thing no farther to be laughed at. Should I wholly sit still, those People who are so much mistaken to think I have been busy to encourage Immorality, may double their Mistake, and fancy I profess it: I will therefore endeavour, in a very few Pages to convince the World, I have brought nothing upon the Stage, that proves me more an Atheist than a Bigot. I may be blind in what relates to myself; 'tis more than possible, for most People are so: But if I judge right, what I have done is in general a Discouragement to Vice and Folly; I am sure I intended it, and I hope I have performed it. Perhaps I have not gone the common Road, nor observed the strictest Prescriptions: But I believe those who know this Town, will agree, That the Rules of a College of Divines will in an Infinity of Cases, fall as short of the Disorders of the Mind, as those of the Physicians do in the Diseases of the Body; and I think a man may vary from 'em both, without being a Quack in either. The real Query is, Whether the Way I have varied, be likely to have a good Effect, or a bad one? That's the true State of the Case; which if I am cast in, I don't question however to gain at least thus much of my Cause, That it shall be allowed I aimed at the Mark, whether I hit it or not. This, if it won't vindicate my Sense, will justify my Morals; and show the World, That this Honest Gentleman, in stretching his Malice, and curtailing his Charity, has played a Part which would have much better become a Licentious Poet, than a Reverend Divine. Tho' I resolve to use very few Words, I would willingly observe some Method, were it possible; that the World, who is the Judge, might sum up the Evidence the easier, and bring the Right and Wrong into the shorter (and by consequence the clearer) View: But his Play is so wild, I must be content to take the Ball as it comes, and return it if I can; which whether I always do or not, however, I believe will prove no great matter, since I hope 'twill appear, where he gives me the Rest, he makes but a wide Chase: His most threatening Strokes end in nothing at all; when he Cuts, he's under Line; when he Forces, he's up in the Nets. But to leave Tennis, and come to the Matter. The First Chapter in his Book is upon the Immodesty of the Stage; where he tells you how valuable a Qualification Modesty is in a Woman: For my part I am wholly of his mind; I think 'tis almost as valuable in a Woman as in a Clergyman; and had I the ruling of the Roast, the one should neither have a Husband, nor the tother a Benefice without it. If this Declaration won't serve to show I'm a Friend to't, let us see what Proof this Gentleman can give of the contrary. I don't find him over-stock'd with Quotations in this Chapter: He's forced, rather than say nothing, to fall upon poor Miss Hoyden. P. 10. He does not come to Particulars, but only mentions her with others, for an immodest Character. What kind of Immodesty he means, I can't tell: But I suppose he means Lewdness, because he generally means wrong. For my part, I know of no Bawdy she talks: If the Strength of his Imagination gives any of her Discourse that Turn, I suppose it may be owing to the Number of Bawdy Plays he has read, which have debauched his Taste, and made every thing seem Salt, that comes in his way. He has but one Quotation more in this long Chapter, that I am P. 35. concerned in: And there he points at the Provoked Wife, as if there were something in the 41st Page of that Play, to discountenance Modesty in Women. But since he did not think fit to acquaint the Reader what it was, I will. Lady Brute and Bellinda speaking of the Smuttiness of some Plays, Bellinda says, Why done't some Reformer or other beat the Poet for it? L. B. Because he is not so sure of our Private Approbation, as of our Public Thanks: Well, sure there is not upon Earth so impertinent a Thing as women's Modesty. B. Yes, men's Fantasque, that obliges us to it: If we quit our Modesty, they say we lose our Charms; and yet they know. That very Modesty is Affectation, and rail at our Hypocrisy. Now which way this Gentleman will extract any thing from hence, to the Discouragement of Modesty, is beyond my Chemistry: 'Tis plainly and directly the contrary. Here are two Women (not over Virtuous, as their whole Character shows), who being alone, and upon the rallying Pin, let fall a Word between Jest and Earnest, as if now and then they found themselves cramped by their Modesty. But lest this should possibly be mistaken by some part of the Audience, less apprehensive of Right and Wrong than the rest, they are put in mind at the same Instant, That (with the Men) if they quit their Modesty, they lose their Charms: Now I thought 'twas impossible to put the Ladies in mind of any thing more likely to make 'em preserve it. I have nothing more laid to my Charge in the First Chapter. The Second is entitled, The Profaneness of the Stage; which he ranges under Two Heads. Their Cursing and Swearing. And Their Abuse of Religion and the Holy Scriptures. As to Swearing, I agree with him in what he says of it in general, That 'tis contrary both to Religion and Good Manners, especially before Women: But I say, what he calls Swearing in the Playhouse, (at least where I have to answer for it) is a Breach upon neither. And here I must desire the Reader to observe, His Accusations against me run almost always in general Terms, he scarce ever comes to Particulars: I hope 'twill be allowed a good sign on my side, that it always falls to my turn to quote the thing at length in my Defence, which he huddles together in my Charge. What follows will be an Instance of it. He says in the 57th Page, (where the Business of Swearing is upon the Tapis) with a great deal of Honesty and Charity, That in this respect the Relapse and the Provoked Wife are particularly rampant and scandalous. Would not any body imagine from hence, that the Oaths that were used there, were no less than those of a Losing Bully at Baggammon, or a Bilked Hackney-Coachman? Yet after all, the stretch of the Profaneness lies in Lord Foppington's Gad, and Miss Hoyden's I-Cod. This is all this Gentleman's Zeal is in such a Ferment about. Now whether such Words are entirely justifiable or not, there's this at least to be said for 'em; That People of the Nicest Rank both in their Religion and their Manners throughout Christendom use 'em. In France you meet with Par Die, Par Bleu, Ma Foy, etc. in the constant Conversation of the Ladies and the Clergy, I mean those who are Religious even up to Bigotry itself; and accordingly we see they are always allowed in their Plays: And in England, we meet with an Infinity of People, Clergy as well as Laity, and of the best Lives and Conversations, who use the Words I-gad, I'faith, Codsfish, cote's my Life, and many more, which all lie liable to the same Objection. Now whether they are right or wrong in doing it, I think at least their Example is Authority enough for the Stage; and should have been enough to have kept so good a Christian as Mr. Collier from loading his Neighbour with so foul a Charge as Blasphemy and Profaneness, unless he had been better provided to make it good. The next thing he takes to task in this Chapter, is the Abuse of Religion and Holy Scripture. Now here I think he should first clearly have proved, That no Story, Phrase, or Expression whatsoever in the Scripture, whether in the Divine, Moral, or Historical part of it, should be either repeated, or so much as alluded to, upon the Stage, to how useful an End soever it might be applied: This I say he should have first put past a dispute, before he fell upon me for an Abuser of the Holy Scripture; for unless that be to abuse it, I am innocent. The Scripture is made up of History, Prophecy, and Precept; which are things in their Nature capable of no other Burlesque than what calls in question either their Reality or their Sense: Now if any Allusion I have made, be found even to glance at either of them, I shall be ready to ask Pardon both of God and the Church. But to the Trial. The first Accusation lies upon the Provoked Wife, where Razor is P. 77. highly blamed by Mr. Collier; for, in the 77th Page, pleading the same Excuse to an untoward Prank he had newly played, which Adam did heretofore upon a more unfortunate Occasion: That Woman having tempted him, the Devil overcame him. How the Scripture is affronted by this, I can't tell; here's nothing that reflects upon the Truth of the Story: It may indeed put the Audience in mind of their Forefather's Crime, and his Folly, which in my Opinion, like Gunpowder-Treason, ought never to be forgot. The Line in Rasor's Confession, Pro. W. p. 78. which Mr. Collier's Modesty ties him from repeating, makes the Close of this Sentence: And if my Prayers were to be heard, her punishment for so doing should be like the Serpent's of old, she should lie upon her face all the days of her life. All I shall say to this, is, That an Obscene Thought must be buried deep indeed, if he don't smell it out; and that I find he has a much greater Veneration for the Serpent than I have, who shall always make a very great distinction between my Respects to God and the Devil. He runs a Muck at all. The next he lances at is my Lord Foppington. P. 78. And here he's as angry at me for being for Religion, as before for being against it, (which shows you the Man's resolved to quarrel with me): For I think his Lordship's Words which he quotes about St. James' Church, are beyond all dispute on the Minister's side, though not on his Congregations: The Indecencies of the Place, the Levity of the Women, and the unseasonable Gallantry of the Men, are exposed in the very Relapse, p. 23, 33. Lines this Gentleman is pleased to quote for their Profaneness. For though my Lord Foppington is not supposed to speak what he does to a Religious End, yet 'tis so ordered, that his manner of speaking it, together with the Character he represents, plainly and obviously instructs the Audience (even to the meanest Capacity) that what he says of his Church-Behaviour, is designed for their Contempt, and not for their Imitation: This is so notorious, that no Schoolboy could mistake it: I therefore hope those who observe this Man of Reformation is capable of giving so good an Intention so pernicious a Turn, will conclude, when he sat down to write upon the Profaneness of the Poets, he had nothing less in his Head, than to refine the Morals of the Age. From the Elder Brother he falls upon the Younger; I suppose, because he takes me to be his Friend, for I find no other reason for his Quarrel: He accuses him for assuring his Man Lory, that he has kicked his Conscience down Stairs; and he observes, he says, by the way, that this Lose Young Gentleman is the Author's Favourite. Now the Author observes by the way, That he's always observing wrong; for he has no other proof of his being his Favourite, than that he has helped him to a Wife, who's likely to make his Heart ache: But I suppose Mr. Collier is of Opinion, that Gold can never be bought too dear. The next Flirt is at Worthy and Relapse, p. 51. Berinthia; and here he tells you Two Characters of Figure determine the Point in Defence of Pimping. I can pardon his Mistake in the business of Pimping, because I charitably believe the University may have been the only Place he has had any Experience of it in, and there 'tis not managed indeed by People of any extraordinary Figure: But he may be informed if he pleases, that in this Righteous Town the Profession soars somewhat higher, and that (out of my Lord-Mayor's Liberties) there are such things as Worthy and Berinthia to be found. I brought 'em upon the Stage to show the World how much the Trade was improved; but this Gentleman I find won't take my Word for't. Nurse is to have the next Kick o' the Breech, and 'tis for being too Profane. But that's left for me to quote again: For his part, all he repeats from her is, That Relapse, p. 96. his Worship (young Fashion) overflows with his Mercy and his Bounty: He is not only pleased to forgive us our Sins, but which is more than all, has prevailed with me to become the Wife of thy Bosom. This he says is dull: Why so 'tis; and so is he, for thinking it worth his finding fault with, unless it had been spoke by somebody else than a Nurse, and to somebody else than Mr. Bull. But the Profane Stuff he says precedes it, I'll acquaint the Reader with. She says (speaking to the Chaplain) Roger, Are not you a wicked man, Roger, to set your strength against a weak Woman, and persuade her it was no Sin to conceal Miss' Nuptials? My Conscience flies in my face for it, thou Priest of Baal; and I find by woeful Experience, thy Absolution is not worth an old Cassock. The Reader may here be pleased to take notice what this Gentleman would construe Profaneness, if he were once in the Saddle with a good Pair of Spurs upon his Heels. I have all manner of Respect for the Clergy, but I should be very sorry to see the Day, that a Nurse's cracking a Jest upon a Chaplain (where it has no Allusion to Religion) should be brought within the Verge of Profaneness: But the next Chapter, about the Abuse of the Clergy, will give occasion for some more Remarks of this kind. Amanda comes next, I thought she might have scaped, but it seems with all her Virtue, she charges the Bible with Untruths, and says, Good Gods, what slippery stuff are men composed of! sure the Account of their Creation's false, and 'twas the Woman's Rib that they were formed of. I'm sorry the Gentleman who writ this Speech of Amanda's, is not here to defend himself; but he being gone away with the Czar, who has made him Poet Laureate of Muscovy, I can do no less for the Favour he intended me, than to say this in his Justification. That to my knowledge he has too much Veneration for the Bible, to intend this a charge upon the Truth of it; and that it appears very plain to me, Amanda intended no more to call it in question by those words, than Mr. Collier's Wife might be supposed to do, if from some Observations upon his Book, she should say, Sure 'tis a mistake in the New Testament, that the fruits of the Spirit are, Modesty, Temperance, justice, Meekness, Charity, etc. for my Jeremy is a spiritual Person, yet has not One of these marks about him. Worthy follows: And I am P. 80. threatened with no less than Eternal Damnation, for making him say to his Procuress (when she had promised to do what he'd have her) Thou Angel of Light, let me fall down and adore thee. But I am not commended for the Answer she makes him, to put the Audience in mind, she was not supposed to deserve that Compliment, Thou Minister of Darkness Relapse, p. 91. get up again, for I hate to see the Devil at his Devotions. If Mr. Collier had quoted this too, he had given a better Character of me, and I think of himself. A Page or two farther, he has a snap, as he goes by, at the Provoked Wife. And here he's at foul Prov. Wife, p. 3. play again. He accuses Lady Brute for setting down as a Precept, that the Part of a Wife, is to Cuckold her Husband; whereas her words are these, In short, Bellinda, he has used me so barbarously of late, I could almost resolve to play the downright Wife, and Cuckold him. This indeed is saying, Wives do Cuckold their Husbands (I ask the Lady's Pardons for Lying): But 'tis not saying they should do so: I hope Mr. Collier will ask mine. Lady Brute in her next Reply to Bellinda, says, what I own at first view seems much more liable to exception. Yet lest the Audience should mistake her Raillery for her serious Opinion, there is care taken immediately to inform 'em otherwise by making her reprimand herself in these words to Bellinda. But I shall play the fool and jest on, till I make you begin to think I am in earnest. Here, methinks, he should have commended me for my Caution. But he was surly, and would not. Young Fashion is next accused for saying to Lory (when he had a prospect of getting Miss Hoyden) Providence, thou seest at last, takes care of men of Merit. This surely is a very poor Charge, and a Critic must be reduced to short Commons to chop at it. Every body knows the word Providence in Common Discourse goes for Fortune. If it be answered, Let it go for what it will, it is in strictness God Almighty; I answer again, That if you go to strictness, Fortune is God Almighty as much as Providence, and yet no One ever thought it Blasphemy to say, Fortune's blind, or Fortune favours Fools: And the reason why it is not thought so, is because 'tis known it is not meant so. Berinthia comes again, and is blamed for telling Amanda, Worthy had taken her to pieces like a Text, and preached upon every part of her; This is called a Lewd and Profane Allegory. I confess it has at a glance, the appearance of somewhat which it is not, and that methinks Mr. Collier might have been content to have charged it with; but he always takes care to stretch that way that becomes him least, and so is sure to be in the wrong himself, whether I am so or not. Neither the Woman in general, nor any particular part about her, is likened to the Text; The Simile lies between the Manner of a Minister's using his Text, and Worthies Flourishing upon his Mistress; So that the Prophanation's got in the wrong place here again. But supposing the Minister to be as Mr. Collier would have him, as sacred a thing as his Text, there's nothing here that Burlesques him; 'Tis a Simile indeed, but a very inoffensive one, for it abuses nobody; and as to the Lewdness on't, I refer myself to the Reader here again, whether this Gentleman does not give us another Instance of his having a very quick Nose, when some certain things are in the Wind. I believe, had the Obscenity he has routed up here, been buried as deep in his Churchyard, the Yarest Boar in his Parish would hardly have tossed up his Snout at it. Berinthia's Close of her Speech, Now consider of what has been said, and Heaven give you grace to put it in practice, brings up the Rear of the Attack in this Chapter. These I own are words often used at the close of a Sermon, and therefore perhaps might as well have been let alone here. A known Pulpit-Expression sounds loose upon the Stage, though nothing is really affronted by it; for that I think in this Case is very plain, to any body that considers, who it is that speaks these words, and her manner of doing it. There's nothing serious in't, as if she would persuade either Amanda or the Audience that Heaven approved what she was doing: 'Tis only a loose Expression, suitable to the Character she represents, which, throughout the Play, sufficiently shows, she's brought upon the Stage to Ridicule something that's off on't. These three or four last Quotations Mr. Collier says are downright Blasphemy, and within the Law. I hope the Reader will perceive he says wrong. The next Chapter is upon the Abuse of the Clergy: And here we are come to the Spring of the Quarrel. I believe whoever reads Mr. Collier, need take very little pains to find out, that in all probability, had the Poets never discovered a Rent in the Gown, he had done by Religion, as I do by my Brethren, left it to shift for itself. In starting this Point, he opens a large Field for an Adversary to Rove in, he unbars the Gate of the Town, forgetting the Weakness of the Garrison; were I the Governor on't, I'd commend him for his Courage, much more than for his Prudence. I once thought to have said a great deal upon this Occasion; But I have changed my mind, and will trouble the Reader with no more than I think is necessary to clear myself from the Charge of Ridiculing the Function of a Clergyman. I am as fully convinced, as the most Pious Divine, or the most Refined Politician can wish me, how necessary the Practice of all Moral Virtues is to our Happiness in this World, as well as to that of another. And this Opinion has its natural Consequence with me, which is, to give me a regard to every Instrument of their Promotion. The Institution of the Clergy, I own to be both in the Intention and Capacity the most effectual of all; I have therefore for the Function all imaginable Deference, and would do all things to support it in such a kind of Credit, as will render it most formidable in the execution of its Design. But in this Mr. Collier and I, I doubt, are not like to agree. He is of Opinion, That Riches and Plenty, Title, State and Dominion, give a Majesty to Precept, and cry Place for it wherever it comes; That Christ and his Apostles took the thing by the wrong Handle; and that the Pope and his Cardinals have much refined upon 'em in the Policy of Instruction. That should a Vicar, like St. john, feed on Locusts and Wild Honey, his Parish would think he had too ill a taste for himself, to cater for them; and that a Bishop, who, like St. Paul, should decline Temporal Dominion, would show himself such an Ass, his Advice would go for nothing. This I find is Mr. Collier's Opinion; and if ever I take Orders, I won't swear it shan't be mine: But then I fear I shall continue in my Heresy; Three Articles of which are these: 1. That the Shepherd, who has least Business at home in his House, is likely to take the most care of his Flock. 2. That he who finds fault with the Sauce he greedily sops his bread in, gives very good cause to suspect he'd fain keep it all to himself. 3. That he who is strict in the Performance of his Duty, needs no Other help, to be respected in his Office. These Pills, I own, are as bitter to the Flesh, as they are agreeable to the Spirit; but the Physic's sound, and the Prescription is so necessary, that when nothing else will persuade some people to swallow 'em, I think 'tis not amiss, they should be forced down by the Stage. If any Poet has gone farther, let him answer for't; I'll endeavour to show I have not. And first I'm to answer for Sir john Brutus' putting on a Gown to Abuse the Clergy. If a Sir john Brute off the Stage should put on a Gown in his Cups, and pass his Lewdness upon the World, for the Extravegances of a Churchman; This, I own, would be an Abuse and a Prejudice to the Clergy. But to expose this very Man upon the Stage, for putting this Affront upon the Gown; to put the Audience in mind, that there were Laymen so wicked, they cared not what they did to bring Religion in Contempt, and were therefore always ready to throw dirt upon the Pilots of it: This I believe no body but a Man of Mr. Collier's heat, could have mistaken so much, to quote it under the head, of the Clergy abused by the Stage. But Men that ride Post, with the Reins lose upon the Neck, must expect to get falls. When he writes again, he'll take up perhaps, and mix a little Lead with his Quicksilver. The Justice does indeed drop a word which alludes to the Jolly Doings of some Boon Companions in the Fens; and if I had let him drop a word or two more, I think I had made him a better Justice than I have. In the Relapse, Mr. Collier complains that his Brother Bull wishes the married Couple Joy in Language so horribly smutty and Profane, to transcribe it would blot the Paper too much. I'm therefore put upon the old necessity to transcribe it for him, that the World may see what this honest Gentleman would pass upon them as well as me, for Profane, had he as long a Sword in his Hand as the Pope has in his. Bull's words are these. I most Relapse, p. 74. humbly thank your Honours; and I hope, since it has been my Lot to join you in the Holy Bands of Wedlock, you will so cultivate the Soil, which I have craved a Blessing on, that your Children may swarm about you, like Bees about a Honeycomb. These are the words he calls horribly Smutty and Profane. The next Quarrel's about I don't know what; nor can light of any body that can tell me. He says, Young Fashion desiring Mr. Bull to make haste to Sir Tunbelly; He answers him very decently, I fly Relapse, p. 75. my good Lord. What this Gentleman means by this Quotation, I can't imagine; but I can answer for t'other Gentleman, he only meant he'd make haste. He quotes Two or Three Sentences more of Bull's, which are just as Profane as the rest: He concludes, That the Chaplain has a great deal of heavy Stuff upon his hands; and his chief Quarrel to me here is, That I have not made him a Wit. I ask pardon, that I could suppose a Deputy-Lieutenant's Chaplain could be a Blockhead; but I thought, if there was such a thing, he was as likely to be met with in Sir Tunbelly's House, as any where. If ever I write the Character of a Gentleman where a Chaplain like Mr. Collier is to have the Direction of the Family, I'll endeavour to give him more Sense, that I may qualify him for more Mischief. He has now left lashing me in particular, and I only have my share in his general Stroke upon all such sinful Wretches, who attack P. Religion under every Form, and pursue the Priesthood through all the Subdivisions of Opinion. He says, Neither Jews nor Heathens, Turks nor Christians, Rome nor Geneva, Church nor Conventicle, can escape us. And we say, They'll all escape us, if he can defend 'em. Priest or Presbyter, Pope or Calvin, Mufti or Brammen, Ambassador from God, or Envoy from the Devil, if they have but their Credentials from t'other World, they are (with him) all Brothers of the Sacred String; there's no more Discord than is necessary to make up the Harmony; and if a Poet does but touch the worst Instrument they play upon, the Holy Consort of Religion and Morality, he'll tell you, is quite out of Tune. Thus violently does his Zeal to the Priesthood run away with him: Some Clergyman, methinks, should help to stop him; and I almost persuade myself there will: There is still in the Gown of the Church of England a very great Number of Men, both Learned, Wise, and Good, who thoroughly understand Religion, and truly love it: From amongst these I flatter myself some Hero will start up, and with the naked Virtue of an Old Generous Roman, appear a Patriot for Religion indeed; with a Trumpet before him proclaim the Secrets of the Cloister, and by discovering the Disease, guide the World to the Cure on't. He may show (if he pleases), That the Contempt of the Clergy proceeds from another kind of Want, than that of Power and Revenue: That Piety and Learning, Charity and Humility, with so visible a Neglect of the Things of this Life, that no one can doubt their Expectations from another; is the way to be believed in their Doctrine, followed in their Precepts, and (by a most infallible Consequence) respected in their Function. Religion is not a Cheat, and therefore has no need of Trappings: Its Beauty is in its Nature, and wants no Dress: An Ambassador who comes with Advantageous Proposals, stands in no need of Equipage to procure him Respect. He who teaches Piety and Morality to the World, is so great a Benefactor to Mankind, he need never doubt their Thanks, if he does not ask too much of their Money. But here's the Sand, where Religion runs aground, Avarice and Ambition in its Teachers, are the Rocks on which 'tis dashed to pieces. It, with many weak people, brings the whole matter into doubt. Men naturally suspect the Foundation of a Project, where the Projector is eager for a larger Contribution than they see is necessary to carry on the Work. But this Case is so plain, there needs nothing to illustrate it. 'Tis the Clergy's Invasion into the Temporal Dominion, that has raised the Alarm against 'em: It has made their Doctrine suspected, and by consequence, their Persons despised. I own I have sometimes doubted whether Pharaoh with all the Hardness of his Heart, would have pursued the Children of Israel to the Red Sea, as he did, if they had not meddled with the Riches of his Subjects at their parting; but that Action renewed the Doubts of a Faith so weak as his, and made him, in spite of all the Miracles he had seen, question whether Moses had his Commission from God. He paid indeed for his Infidelity, as others may happen to do upon a parallel Mistake, I wish none have done't already: But I'm afraid those very Instances Mr. Collier gives us of the Grandeur of the Clergy, are the things that have destroyed both them and their Flocks. They owe their Fall to their Ambition; their soaring so high has melted their Wings; in a word, had they never been so great, they had never been so little. But lest I should be mistaken, and make myself Enemies of Men I am no Enemy to, I must declare, my Thoughts are got to Rome, while I am talking thus of the Clergy; for the Charge is in no measure so heavy at home. The Reformation has reduced things to a tolerable Medium; and I believe what Quarrel we have to our Clergy here, points more at the Conduct of some, than the Establishment of the whole. I wish it may never go farther, and I believe it won't, if those who I don't question are still by much the Majority, will to so good an End (as the kerbing their Ambitious Brethren, and reforming their Lewd ones) for once make a League with the Wicked, and agree, That whilst They play their Great Artillery at 'em from the Pulpit, the Poets shall pelt 'em with their Small Shot from the Stage. But since Mr. Collier is violently bend against this, I'll tell him why I am for it. And 'tis, Because he has put me in mind, in the first Words of his Book, That the Business of Plays, is to recommend Virtue and discountenance Vice: To show the Uncertainty of Human Greatness; the sudden Turns of Fate, and the unhappy Conclusions of Violence and Injustice: That 'tis to expose the Singularities of Pride and Fancy; to make Folly and Falshood contemptible, and to bring every thing that is ill, under Infamy and Neglect. The next Chapter is upon the Encouragement of Immorality by the Stage: And here Constant is fallen upon, for pretending to be a Fine Gentleman, without living up to the Exact Rules of Religion. If Mr. Collier excludes every one from that Character, that does not, I doubt he'll have a more general Quarrel to make up with the Gentlemen of England, than I have with the Lords, tho' he tells 'em I have highly affronted 'em. But I would fain know after all, upon what foundation he lays so positive a Position, That Constant is my Model for a Fine Gentleman; and that he is brought upon the Stage for Imitation. He might as well say, if I brought His Character upon the Stage, I designed it a Model to the Clergy: And yet I believe most People would take it t'other way. O, but these kind of Fine Gentlemen, he says, are always prosperous in their Undertake, and their Vice under no kind of Detection; for in the Fifth Act of the Play, they are usually rewarded with a Wife or a Mistress. And suppose I should reward him with a Bishopric in the Fifth Act, would that mend his Character? I have too great a Veneration for the Clergy, to believe that would make 'em follow his steps. And yet (with all due Respect to the Ladies) take one Amour with another, the Bishopric may prove as weighty a Reward as a Wife or a Mistress either. He says, Mr. Bull was abused upon the Stage, yet he got a Wife and a Benefice too. Poor Constant has neither, nay, he has not got even his Mistress yet, he had not, at least, when the Play was last Acted. But this honest Doctor, I find, does not yet understand the Nature of Comedy, tho' he has made it his Study so long. For the Business of Comedy is to show People what they should do, by representing them upon the Stage, doing what they should not. Nor is there any necessity a Philosopher should stand by, like an Interpreter at a Poppet-show, to explain the Moral to the Audience: The Mystery is seldom so deep, but the Pit and Boxes can dive into it; and 'tis their Example out of the Playhouse, that chiefly influences the Galleries. The Stage is a Glass for the World to view itself in; People ought therefore to see themselves as they are; if it makes their Faces too Fair, they won't know they are Dirty, and by consequence will neglect to wash 'em: If therefore I have showed Constant upon the Stage, what generally the Thing called a Fine Gentleman is off on't, I think I have done what I should do. I have laid open his Vices as well as his Virtues: 'Tis the Business of the Audience to observe where his Flaws lessen his Value; and by considering the Deformity of his Blemishes, become sensible how much a Finer Thing he would be without 'em. But after all, Constant says nothing to justify the Life he leads, except where he's pleading with Lady Brute to debauch her; and sure no body will suppose him there to be speaking much of his Mind. Besides, his Mistress in all her Answers makes the Audience observe the Fallacy of his Arguments. And I think Young Ladies may without much Penetration make this use of the Dialogue, That they are not to take all for Gospel, Men tell 'em upon such occasions. The Provoked Wife is charged with nothing more, except Bellinda for declaring she'd be glad of a Gallant, and Lady Brute for saying, Virtue's an Ass, and a Gallant's worth forty on't. I need make no other Defence for the Ladies, than I have already done for the Gentlemen, the Case being much the same. However, to show how unfair an Adversary I have to deal with, I must acquaint the Reader, That Bellinda only says, If her Pride should make her marry a Man she hated, her Virtue would be in danger from the Man she loved. Now her Reflection upon this, I take to be a useful Caution both to Mothers and Daughters (who think Chastity a Virtue) to consider something in their Matches, besides a Page and a Coronet. Lady Brutus' Words are fairly recited, but wrongly applied: Mr. Collier's mistaken; 'tis not Virtue she exposes, but herself, when she says 'em: Nor is it me he exposes, but himself, when he quotes 'em. He gives me no farther occasion to mention the Provoked Wife, I'll therefore take this to make an Observation or two upon the Moral of it, it being upon that account he has called it in question, and endeavoured to make it pass for a Play that has none. This Play was writ many years ago, and when I was very young; if therefore there had been some small Flaws in the Moral, I might have been excused for the Writing, tho' liable to some Blame for the Publishing it. But I hope it is not so loose, but I may be pardoned for Both, whether Mr. Collier sets his Seal to't or not. As for Sir john Brute, I think there are an Infinity of Husbands who have a very great share of his Vices: And I think his Business throughout the Play, is a visible Burlesque upon his Character. 'Tis this Gentleman that gives the Spring to the rest of the Adventures: And tho' I own there is no mighty Plot in the whole matter, yet what there is, tends to the Reformation of Manners. For besides the hateful Idea his Figure needs must give of his Character, the ill Consequence of his Brutality appears in the Miscarriage of his Wife: For tho' his ill usage of her does not justify her Intrigue, her intriguing upon his ill usage, may be a Caution for some. I don't find our Women in England have much of the Muscovite Temper in 'em: If you'll make 'em think you are their Friend, you must give 'em softer strokes of your Kindness; if you done't, the Gallant has a dangerous Plea, and such a one as, I doubt, has carried many a Cause. Religion, I own, (when a Woman has it) is a very great Bulwark for her Husband's Security: And so is Modesty, and so is Fear, and so is Pride; and yet all are little enough, if the Gallant has a Friend in the Garrison. I therefore think That Play has a very good End, which puts the Governor in mind, let his Soldiers be ever so good, 'tis possible he may provoke 'em to a Mutiny. The rest of the Characters, as they have no very great good, so they have very little mischief in 'em. Lady Fanciful is ridiculed for her Vanity and her Affectation. Mademoiselle brings to mind what may often be expected from a Suivante of her Country. Heartfree is catched for his extravagant Railing at Womankind: And Constant gives himself a great deal of trouble, for a thing that is not worth his Pains. In short, they are most of 'em busy about what they should not be; and those who observe they are so, may take warning to employ their time better. I have nothing more to answer for in this Chapter, but making the Women speak against their own Sex: And having the Presumption to bring a Fop upon the Stage with the Title of a Lord. This is a bungling Piece of Policy, to make the Women and the Nobility take up Arms in his Quarrel. I'm ashamed a Churchman should spin his Mischief no finer: The Solicitors to the Holy War had almost as good a Plea. But he had one Consideration farther in this: He remembered he had positively declared, Let a Clergyman be guilty of what Crimes he would, he was God's Ambassador, and therefore a Privileged Person, whom the Poets ought never to take into Custody. This, upon second thoughts, he found would hardly go down, if he monopolised the Privilege to them alone; and so lest the Company should bring their Charter to a Dispute, he has opened the Books for New Subscriptions; the Lords and the Ladies are invited to come in; the Gentlemen, I suppose, may do so too, if they please; and, in short, rather than the Committee of Religion shall be exposed for their Faults, all Mankind shall be admitted to Trade in Sin as they please. But I dare answer for the Laity, of what Quality soever they may be, they are willing their Vices should be scourged upon the Stage; at least, I never yet heard one of 'em declare the contrary. If the Clergy insist upon being exempted by themselves, I believe they may obtain it: But I'm apt to fancy, if they protect their Loose Livers from being exposed in the Playhouse, they'll find 'em grow the bolder to expose themselves in the Streets. A Clergyman is not in any Country exempted from the Gallows: And Mr. Collier has seen one of his Brethren peep through a worse Place than a Garret-Window: Nay, (in a Reign he reckons a Just One) amble through the Town at the Tail of a Cart, with his Sins in Red Letters upon his Shoulders. A Hangman then may jerk him; Why not a Poet? Perhaps 'tis feared he might give him more Sensible Strokes. I am now come to thank the Gentleman for the last of his Favours; in which he is so generous to bestow a Chapter entire upon me. I'm extremely obliged to him for it, since 'tis more than ever he promised me; For in the Title of his Book, he designs to Correct the Stage only for the Immorality and Profaneness of it. And indeed I think that was all his business with't. But he has since considered better of the matter, and rather than quit his hold, falls a Criticising upon Plots, Characters, Words, Dialogue, etc. even to telling us, when our fine Gentlemen make Love in the prevailing Strain, and when not. This gives us a farther view of his Studies; but, I think, if he kept to his Text, he had given us a better View of a Clergyman. It may, perhaps, be expected I should say more in answer to this Chapter, than to all that has gone before it; the Sense of the Play being attacked here, much more than the Moral, which those who will take Mr. Collier's word for my Principles, must believe I am least concerned for. But I shall satisfy 'em of the contrary, by leaving the Sense to answer for itself if it can: I'll only say this fort in general; That it looks as if a Play were not overloaded with Blunders, when so Painstaking a Corrector is reduced to the wretched necessity of spending his satire upon Fire and Flames, being in the same Line; and Arms twice in the same Speech, though at six lines distance one from tother. This looks as if the Critic were rather duller than the Poet: But when men fight in a Passion, 'tis usual to make insignificant Thrusts; most of his are so wide, they need no parrying; and those that hit, are so weak, they make no Wound. I don't pretend however to have observed the nicety of Rule in this Play; I writ it in as much haste (though not in so much fury) as he has done his Remarks upon't; 'Tis therefore possible I may have made as many foolish Mistakes. I could however say a great deal against the too exact observance of what's called the Rules of the Stage, and the crowding a Comedy with a great deal of Intricate Plot. I believe I could show, that the chief entertainment, as well as the Moral, lies much more in the Characters and the Dialogue, than in the Business and the Event. And I can assure Mr. Collier, if I would have weakened the Diversion, I could have avoided all his Objections, and have been at the expense of much less pains than I have: And this is all the Answer I shall make to 'em, except what tumbles in my way, as I'm observing the foul play he shows me, in setting the Relapse in so wrong a Light as he does, at his opening of the Fable on't. In the first Page of his Remarks upon this Play, he says I have given it a wrong Title; The Relapse, or Virtue in Danger, relating only to Loveless and Amanda, who are Characters of an Inferior Consideration; and that the Younger Brother, or the Fortunate Cheat had been much more proper; because Young Fashion is, without competition, the principal Person in the Comedy. In reading this Gentleman's Book, I have been often at loss to know when he's playing the Knave, and when he's playing the Fool; nor can I decide which he's at now. But this I'm sure, Young Fashion is no more the Principal Person of the Play, than He's the best Character in the Church; nor has he any reason to suppose him so, but because he brings up the Rear of the most insignificant part of the Play, and happens to be the Bridegroom in the close on't. I won't say any thing here irreverently of Matrimony, because à la Françoise Bigotry runs high, and by all I see, we are in a fair way to make a Sacrament on't again. But this I may say, That I had full as much respect for Young Fashion, while he was a Bachelor, and yet I think while he was so, Loveless had a part, that from People who desire to be the better for Plays, might draw a little more Attention. In short; My Lord Fopington, and the Bridegroom, and the Bride, and the justice, and the Matchmaker, and the Nurse, and the Parson at the rear of 'em, are the Inferior Persons of the Play (I mean as to their business) and what they do, is more to divert the Audience, by something particular and whimsical in their Humours, than to instruct 'em in any thing that may be drawn from their Morals; though several useful things may in passing be picked up from 'em too. This is as distinct from the main intention of the Play, as the business of Gomez is in the Spanish Friar. I shan't here enter into the Contest, whether it be right to have two distinct Designs in one Play; I'll only say, I think when there are so, if they are both entertaining, then 'tis right; if they are not, 'tis wrong. But the Dispute here is, Where lies the principal business in the Relapse? Mr. Collier decides it roundly for the Wedding-house, because there's best Cheer; his Patron, Sir Tunbelly, has got a good Venison-Pasty for him, and such a Tankard of Ale, as has made him quite forget the Moral Reflections he should have made upon the Disorders that are slipped into Loveless' House, by his being too positive in his own strength, and forgetting, that Led us not into Temptation, is a Petition in our Prayers, which was thought fit to be tacked to that for our daily Bread. And here my Design was such, I little thought it would ever have been Ridiculed by a Clergyman. 'Twas in few words this. I observed in a Play, called Love's last Shift, or the Fool in Fashion, a Debauche pay so dear for his Lewdness, and his Folly, as from a plentiful Fortune, and a Creditable Establishment in the World, to be reduced by his Extravagance to want even the Common Supports of Life. In this Distress, Providence (I ask Mr. Collier's pardon for using the word) by an unexpected turn in his favour, restores him to Peace and Plenty: And there is that in the manner of doing it, and the Instrument that brings it to pass, as must necessarily give him the most sensible View, both of his Misery past, from the Looseness of his Life; and his Happiness to come, in the Reform of it. In the close of the Play, he's left throughly convinced it must therefore be done, and as fully determined to do it. For my part, I thought him so undisputably in the right; and he appeared to me to be got into so agreeable a Tract of Life, that I often took a pleasure to indulge a musing Fancy, and suppose myself in his place. The Happiness I saw him possessed of, I looked upon as a Jewel of a very great worth, which naturally lead me to the fear of losing it; I therefore considered by what Enemies 'twas most likely to be attacked, and that directed me in the Plan of the Works that were most probable to defend it. I saw but one danger in Solitude and Retirement, and I saw a thousand in the bustle of the World; I therefore in a moment determined for the Country, and supposed Lovelace and Amanda gone out of Town. I found these Reflections of some service to myself, and so (being drawn into the folly of writing a Play) I resolved the Town should share 'em with me. But it seems they are so little to Mr. Collier's Taste, he'll neither eat the Meat himself, nor say Grace to't for any body else. I'll try however if the following Account will recommend it to him. Loveless and his Wife appear in the start of the Play, happy in their Retirement, and in all Human Prospect, likely to continue so, if they continue where they are. As for Amanda, she's so pleased with her Solitude, she desires never to leave it; and the Adventures that happen upon her being forced to it, may caution a Husband (if he pleases) against being so very importunate to bring his Wife (how virtuous soever) into the way of Mischief, when she herself is content to keep out of it. Loveless, He's so thoroughly weaned from the taste of his Debauches, he has not a thought toward the Stage where they used to be acted. 'Tis Business, not Pleasure, brings him thither again, and his Wife can't persuade him there's the least danger of a Relapse; He's proud to think on what a Rock his Reformation is built, and resolves She herself shall be a Witness, That though the Winds blow, and the Billows roar, yet nothing can prevail against it. To Town in short they come, and Temptation's set at defiance. Led us not into it, is a Request he has no farther occasion for. The first place he tries his Strength, is where he used to be the most sensible of his Weakness. He could resist no Woman heretofore; He'll now show he can stand a Battalion of 'em; so to the Playhouse he goes, and with a smile of contempt looks coolly into the Boxes. But Berinthia is there to chastise his Presumption: He discovers her Beauty, but despises her Charms; and is fond of himself, that so unmoved he can consider 'em. He finds a Pleasure indeed, in viewing the Curiosity, but 'tis only to contemplate the Skill of the Contriver. As for Desire, he's satisfied he has none; let the Symptoms be what they will, he's free from the Disease; he may gaze upon the Lady till he grows a Statue in the Place, but he's sure he's in love with none but his Wife. Home he comes, and gives her an account of what he had seen; she's alarmed at the Story, and looks back to her Retirement: He blames her Suspicion, and all's silent again. When Fate (here's Blasphemy again) so disposes things, that the Temptation's brought home to his Door, and his Wife has the misfortune to invite it into her House. In short; Berinthia becomes one of the Family: She's Beautiful in her Person, Gay in her Temper, Coquet in her Behaviour, and Warm in her Desires. In a word, The Battery is so near, there's no standing the Shot, Constancy's beaten down; the Breach is made, Resolution gives ground, and the Town's taken. This I designed for a natural Instance of the Frailty of Mankind, even in his most fixed Determinations; and for a mark upon the defect of the most steady Resolve, without that necessary Guard, of keeping out of Temptation. But I had still a farther end in Loveless' Relapse, and indeed much the same with that in the Provoked Wife, though in different kind of Characters; these latter being a little more refined, which places the Moral in a more reasonable, and I think a more agreeable View. There; The Provocation is from a Brute, and by consequence cannot be supposed to sting a Woman so much, as if it had come from a more Reasonable Creature; the Lady therefore that gives herself a Loose upon it, could not naturally be represented the best of her Sex. Virtuous (upon some ground or other) there was a Necessity of making her; but it appears by a Strain of Levity that runs through her Discourse, she owed it more to Form, or Apprehension, or at best to some few Notions of Gratitude to her Husband, for taking her with an Inferior Fortune, than to any Principle of Religion, or an extraordinary Modesty. 'Twas therefore not extremely to be wondered at, that when her Husband made her House uneasy to her at home, she should be prevailed with to accept of some Diversions abroad. However, since she was Regular while he was kind, the Fable may be a useful Admonition to Men who have Wives, and would keep 'em to themselves, not to build their Security so entirely upon their Lady's Principles, as to venture to pull from under her all the Political Props of her Virtue. But in the Adventures of Loveless and Amanda, the Caution is carried farther. Here's a Woman whose Virtue is raised upon the utmost Strength of Foundation: Religion, Modesty, and Love, defend it. It looks so Sacred, one would think no Mortal durst approach it; and seems so fixed, one would believe no Engine could shake it: Yet loosen one Stone, the Wether works in, and the Structure molders apace to decay. She discovers her Husband's return to his Inconstancy. The unsteadiness of his Love gives her a Contempt of his Person; and what lessens her Opinion, declines her Inclination. As her Passion for him is abated, that against him's inflamed; and as her Anger increases, her Reason's confused: Her Judgement in disorder, her Religion's unhinged; and that Fence being broken, she lies widely exposed: Worthies too sensible of the Advantage, to let slip the Occasion: He has Intelligence of the Vacancy, and puts in for the Place. Poor Amanda's persuaded he's only to be her Friend, and that all he asks, is to be admitted as a Comforter in her Afflictions. But when People are sick, they are so fond of a Cordial, that when they get it to their Nose, they are apt to take too much on't. She finds in his Company such a Relief to her Pain, she desires the Physician may be always in her sight. She grows pleased with his Person as well as his Advice, yet she's sure he can never put her Virtue in Danger. But she might have remembered her Husband was once of the same Opinion; and have taken warning from him, as the Audience, I intended, should do from 'em both. This was the Design of the Play; which I think is something of so much greater Importance than Young Fashion marrying Miss Hoyden, that if I had called it the Younger Brother, or the Fortunate Cheat, instead of the Relapse, or Virtue in danger, I had been just as much in the wrong, as Mr. Collier is now. His reason, I remember, why Loveless can't be reckoned a Principal Part, is, Because he sinks in the Fourth Act. But I can tell him, If the Play had sunk in the Fourth Act too, it had been better than 'tis, by just Twenty per Cent. However, tho' Loveless' Affair is brought about in the Fourth Act, Amanda's last Adventure is towards the End of the Fifth. But this is only a Cavil from the Formality of the Critics; which is always well broken into, if the Diversion's increased by't, and Nature not turned Top-side-turvy. If therefore nothing but the Critics (I mean such as Mr. Collier) find themselves shocked by the Disorders of this Play, I think I need trouble myself as little to justify what's past, as I own I should to mend it, in any thing to come; had I thoughts of meddling any more with the Stage. But to draw to an End. I have reserved for the Close of this Paper, one Observation (a home one I think) upon the Unfair Dealing of this Reverend Gentleman; which shows at once the Rancour of his Venom, the Stretches of his Injustice, and by a Moral Consequence, I think, the Extremity of his Folly: For sure there cannot be a greater, than for a Man of his Coat, at the very Instant he's declaiming against the Crimes of the Age, to lay himself so open, to be hit in the most Immoral Blot of Life, which that of Slander undisputably is. To Explain. I beg the Reader will bestow one Moment's Reflection upon the Pains he has taken to make Young Fashion and his Affair pass for the Principal Concern of the Comedy; which he only has done, in hopes to sink the useful Moral of the Play, which he knew lay in t'other part of it, and would unavoidably have appeared in Judgement against his Reflections upon the whole, if he had not taken this way to stifle the Evidence: He therefore carries on the Imposture to that degree, as at last to slubber over the Conclusive Scene between Worthy and Amanda, as if there were no Meaning of Importance in it. Nay, his Rage is so great (to find the Stamp of Immorality he would fain have fixed upon this Play, so cleanly washed off by the Close of this Scene) that he cares not what Folly he commits: And therefore in his Heats, rather than commend it for the Alarm it gives to Lewdness, by Worthies Reflections upon Amanda's Refusal, he turns him into Ridicule for an Insipid Platonic: By which we may guests, had he been in the Fine Gentleman's Place, the Lady would not have 'scap'd as she did. I'll repeat Worthies Words, with the Doctor's use of 'em, and so have done. Sure there's Divinity about her, Relapse, p. 100 and sh'as dispensed some Portion on't to me: For what but now was the Wild Flame of Love, or (to dissect that specious Term) the vile, the gross Desires of Flesh and Blood, is in a Moment turned to Adoration: The courser Appetite of Nature's gone, and 'tis methinks the Food of Angels I require. How long this Influence may last, Heaven knows: But in this Moment of my Purity, I could on her Own Terms accept her Heart. Yes, Lovely Woman, I can accept it, for now 'tis doubly worth my Care: Your Charms are much increased since thus adorned: When Truth's extorted from us, than we own the Robe of Virtue is a Graceful Habit. Could Women but our secret Councils scan; Could they but reach the deep Reserves of Man; They'd wear it on, that that of Love might last: For when they throw off one, we soon the other cast. Their Sympathy is such— The Fate of one, the other scarce can fly, They live together, and together die. This Reflection Worthy makes to himself, upon Amanda's having Virtue enough to resist him, when he plainly saw she lay under a pressing Temptation. Now when 'tis considered, That upon the Stage the Person who speaks in a Soliloquy is always supposed to deliver his real Thoughts to the Audience: I think it must be granted, there never was a homer Check given to the Lewdness of Women in any Play whatsoever. For what in Nature can touch 'em nearer, than to see a man, after all the Pains he has taken, and the Eager Arguments he has used, lay open his Heart, and frankly confess, had he gained his Mistress, she had lost her Gallant. This I thought was a Turn so little suited to Comedy, that I confess I was afraid the Rigour of the Moral would have damned the Play. But it seems every body could relish it but a Clergyman. Mr. Collier's Words are these: Amanda continues obstinate, and P. 227. is not in the usual Humour of the Stage: Upon this, like a well-bred Lover he seizes her by force, and threatens to kill her: (By the way, this Purblind Divine might have seen 'twas himself, not his Mistress, he threatened.) In this Rencounter the Lady proves too nimble, and slips through his Fingers. Upon this Disappointment he cries, There's Divinity about her, and she has dispensed some Portion on't to me. His Passion is metamorphosed in the turn of a hand: He's refined into a Platonic Admirer, and goes off as like a Town-Spark as you would wish. And so much for the Poet's Fine Gentleman. The World may see by this, what a Contempt the Doctor has for a Spark that can make no better use of his Mistress, than to admire her for her Virtue. This methinks is something so very extraordinary in a Clergyman, that I almost fancy when He and I are fast asleep in our Graves, those who shall read what we both have produced, will be apt to conclude there's a Mistake in the Tradition about the Authors; and that 'twas the Reforming Divine writ the Play, and the Scandalous Poet the Remarks upon't. FINIS.