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460 Enquiry concerning the Operation of the 
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A 
 
 RATIONAL ENQUIRY 
 
 CONCERNING 
 
 THE OPERATION 
 
 OF 
 ON 
 
 THE MORALS OF SOCIETY. 
 
 VALEAT QUANTUM VALERE POTEST. 
 
 BY DAVID M'NICOLL. 
 
 ifctocastU upon ©gtuj 
 
 PRINTED BY EDWARD WALKER; 
 
 AND SOLD BY MESSRS CHARNLEY, FINLAY, HORN, &C. &C. 
 BOOKSELLERS, NEWCASTLE. 
 
 1823. 
 

 n 
 
This Essay, lately published in successive numbers of The 
 Newcastle Courant, is now enlarged, and printed in a more 
 convenient form, with the hope of its being rendered more 
 extensively useful in the cause of truth and virtue. 
 
 Newcastle upon Tyne, July 1, 1823. 
 
A 
 
 RATIONAL ENQUIRY. 
 
 I. The Question Stated. 
 
 The imitative arts, as they produce their effects 
 by pleasure, and therefore have pleasure for 
 their primary intention, are in their nature 
 eminently calculated to please. The reason is 
 said to be this, — that we naturally love to learn ; 
 and, in imitation, our flattered sagacity disco- 
 vers a resemblance between two things. Per- 
 haps a principal reason is, the richness of having 
 two ideas instead of one, as in the use of meta- 
 phor. The talent of the imitator must also 
 come in for a share, as it strikes with admira- 
 tion, and disposes the mind to take an interest in 
 any subject whatever, which the artist has cho- 
 sen to imitate. It is something peculiar in the 
 subject itself, and in its circumstances, that 
 alone can beat back the tide of pleasure which 
 naturally attends upon resemblance, "and turn 
 the whole into a scene of disgust or horror. 
 
 B 
 
6 
 
 Imitation, then, will please different persons 
 according to their different intellectual tastes, 
 and moral habitudes and feelings. Still, in every 
 instance, imitation tends to please. Hence the 
 picture of a rotten tree, or an old house, sub- 
 jects of themselves unalluring, gives a charm to 
 the fancy. 
 
 Shall we then allow that every thing may 
 be imitated ? Have such arts no bounds ? 
 May obscene prints, for instance, if ingeniously 
 executed, be allowably presented to the public? 
 Should poison be called the subject imitated, 
 and sweetness the imitation, could any one be 
 so enslaved to pleasure as to swallow down a 
 mixture of both ? 
 
 Apply this to the theatre, which imitates hu- 
 man character and life. The pleasure here is 
 allowed to be great. Poetry itself is rich in 
 imitation. He, therefore, who personates a 
 character by poetic expression and by action, 
 presents a double enjoyment to the auditor. 
 This, together with its splendid accompani- 
 ments, forms a compound of pleasures that 
 cannot fail to fascinate; for pleasure, of one 
 description or another, is the element in 
 which mankind seek to dwell. 
 
 The intense charm of theatrical entertain- 
 ments was the very reason why Plato deem- 
 ed them dangerous, and on which he built 
 all his objections to them. It is true, he 
 
was the wen-known enemy of poetry in ge- 
 neral; but this does not subtract from the 
 weight of his opinions when he offers them on 
 argument. It only goes to say, that he was not 
 always in the right, which, I presume, may be 
 said of even the most distinguished patrons of 
 the theatre ; yet who would draw the conclu- 
 sion, that, therefore, he was no authority. 
 
 Suppose, then, it be proper to imitate certain 
 parts of human life, it will not be contended 
 that all transactions really occurring, or of pos- 
 sible occurrence, may be publiely imitated. The 
 position is too monstrous to be dwelt upon for 
 a moment. The Greek rules of the drama itself 
 point out some things which are forbidden to 
 be acted ; not merely because they are deemed 
 poetically bad, but because they are morally 
 so ; nay, they are pronounced poetically vi- 
 cious for the express reason that they are im- 
 moral. 
 
 The exhibition, however, of immorality, 
 to some extent, is essential to the existing 
 stage ; for characters perfectly good, or good 
 characters without bad ones associated in the 
 same piece, would not possess probability ; a 
 circumstance which would destroy the illusion. 
 Besides, without the excess and collision of cer- 
 tain evil passions, that dramatic interest or ef- 
 fect could not be produced, which is professed 
 to be the grand excellence of the drama. A 
 
 b 2 
 
chief Question then occurs, — How far may mo- 
 ral evil be thus exhibited with safety, or advan- 
 tage to society? 
 
 He who reasons on this question from what 
 is peculiar to the authority and substance of 
 the Christian System, as distinguished from 
 every other, encounters difficulties in the out- 
 set. Infidelity denies his principles, and the 
 truth of Christianity must be agreed upon be- 
 tween the parties, before they can advance a 
 single step in the argument. Should they de- 
 cide the previous question against the Sacred 
 Scriptures, they might then, perhaps, unite to 
 follow pleasure, on the maxim, — " Let us eat 
 " and drink, for to-morrow we die." Though 
 should the infidel allow of patriotism and huma- 
 nity, as the meeting place of conflict, it would 
 be quite possible, in my opinion, to resist, on 
 this comparatively narrow field, with ruin to 
 his cause, any defence which he might make 
 in behalf of the theatre. 
 
 Suppose again they should unite in em- 
 bracing Christianity, it might still be a ques- 
 tion, — Are we agreed as to what this system 
 is? For example, if the one assumes love 
 to God as a ground of his objection to the 
 theatre, and explains himself as to his con- 
 ception of this love, that it implies, among 
 other things included in supreme attachment, 
 the liveliest joy to see the honour of the divine 
 
name held sacred among men, and the most 
 sensitive alarm and sorrow at the contrary ; 
 properties which, in their proportion, belong 
 essentially even to that love which a man owes 
 to his friend in civil society ; the other proba- 
 bly replies by saying, — What you call Jove to 
 God, I call downright enthusiasm. And here 
 again the argumentation is at an end. 
 
 Or, should it be prolonged, with some good 
 accidental reasoning on either side, the parties, 
 finding their feet not fixed upon the rock of 
 proper data, beat the wind instead of reaching 
 their respective objects ; severally seizing, with 
 clamorous avidity, on some inferior part, be- 
 cause it is vulnerable, and treating it at great 
 length. But do they forget the body of the 
 reasoning ? O no ! That must be touched, for 
 here lies the policy of doing the thing com- 
 pletely. 
 
 He who fights against the theatre, perhaps 
 goes on to dogmatize, as if his own naked opi- 
 nion were sufficient to give law to the public ; 
 and it is well if he does not assume a manner of 
 illogical dictation amounting to overt acts of 
 uncharitableness ; and thus his well-meant en- 
 deavours only injure the cause he means to 
 support. On the other hand, his opponent, in- 
 stead of arguing dispassionately. and candidly,' 
 or ceasing to argue at all when he thinks con- 
 tempt should fill the chair of reason, strives * 
 
10 
 
 be somewhat witty and flagellant, in a plentiful 
 use of the terms cant, saintship, puritanism, 
 hypocrisy, &c. But as morality at large, in- 
 cluding the recognition of the Christian Scheme, 
 as to those of its parts and properties in which 
 the professing world are agreed, presents pro- 
 bably an arena into which all who concern 
 themselves with the controversy may most con- 
 veniently enter, it is but consistent with this 
 common ground, that the dispute be conducted 
 with equal fairness on both sides. 
 
 I shall beg the candid indulgence of the 
 reader to the joint force of the whole of 
 the following Remarks. They will chiefly re- 
 fer — To the direct tendency of theatrical ex- 
 hibitions of vice, — to those principles of the 
 drama on which these exhibitions in particular, 
 and the theatre in general, are professed to be of 
 use to the morals of society, — and to miscel- 
 laneous Arguments and Reflections connect- 
 ed with the subject 
 
 II. On the Direct Tendency of Dramatic 
 Exhibitions of Vice. 
 
 We think the representation of that which is 
 intrinsically criminal, or improper, is, not ab- 
 solutely, and in every possible instance, but as 
 
11 
 
 commonly shewn upon the theatre, of very perni- 
 cious tendency. 
 
 We think so, in the first place , from the na- 
 ture of dramatic personation. Some passions, 
 indeed, may be properly embodied by the 
 arts, or otherwise, for deliberate examination ; 
 others are, in their own nature, when exhibit- 
 ed, so insidious and contagious, that all moral- 
 ists agree to urge, in regard to them,— Your safe- 
 ty lies in flight. With such it is extremely ha- 
 zardous to tamper, though under the design of 
 strengthening our virtue by the mock encoun- 
 ter. Agreeably to this distinction, St. Paul, 
 referring to one description of such passions, 
 says, " Flee youthful lusts," which, we are 
 elsewhere informed, " War against the soul." 
 
 Now we are affected in proportion to the 
 breadth and colour with which a subject is pre- 
 sented to our perception. A subject affects 
 with but comparative slightness by means of 
 the thoughts. Written words and sentiments 
 are signs which involve a still more impressive 
 medium. The same subject, supposing it to be 
 within the art of the painter, would touch yet 
 more powerfully if presented to the eye in a 
 picture. The naked force of oratory might 
 further add to its influence. But exemplified 
 by the living imitation on the stage, the effect 
 is most powerful ; especially as the whole re- 
 ceives a peculiar augmentation of effect from 
 
the action. There is thus a material difference 
 between a play perused in the closet, and seen 
 as performed. 
 
 In whatever way we chuse to present any in- 
 stance of moral evil to the consideration of 
 others, it is our duty to stop short of seductive- 
 ness. In doing so, we ought to observe a scale 
 of impression, fixed, I think, by the experi- 
 ence, good sense, and morality of all the wor- 
 thier part of mankind. As to the language of 
 a wicked man, for instance, it might be such 
 as, read in private, would merely address itself 
 to the understanding, ox fancy ; but spoken by a 
 public actor, would reach the passions. The 
 same base individual might again use terms, an 
 account of which, and of the character express- 
 ed by them, might be given with propriety, as 
 an epic poet does when he speaks in his own 
 person, but which would not be decent or pro- 
 per to be written verbatim et literatim. He 
 might even proceed to such expressions, 
 cruelties, and abominations* as to render it 
 impossible to describe them at all with deco- 
 rum. It was, no doubt, this danger of acting 
 wickedness which gave rise to the observation 
 of Plato, " That the poets should be obliged 
 " to imitate good characters, or not to imitate 
 " at all."* 
 
 * Rep. iii. p. 401 B. 
 
13 
 
 Now passions of the above dangerous descrip- 
 tion are of the very essence of the modern the-* 
 atre, as acknowledged and lamented by its best 
 and warmest friends. Christianity, which has im- 
 proved all other institutions, affords, it would ap- 
 pear, no counteraction to this tendency of the 
 stage ; the antient drama, with few exceptions, 
 being, in this respect, comparatively pure. A 
 heathen audience thirsted for intellectual en- 
 joyment : we are sensual, and must be enter- 
 tained with shows and tricks, and corrupt- 
 ed and perverted passions. Nay, the author of 
 the Poetics, with all his love for tragedy, is 
 very sensitive even on the subject of painting, 
 as endangering the morals of youth. He says, 
 " Young men should not be permitted to con- 
 " template the works of Pauson, but those only 
 " of Polygnotus, and of other artists, who ex- 
 " celled in moral expression."* It may also 
 be observed, that what is originally innocent 
 will sometimes be morally injurious in the copy. 
 Might any common courtship, though proper 
 in itself, be indiscriminately shewn to youth ? 
 What then is the neutralizing circumstance that 
 makes the dramatic imitation safe and useful ? 
 I now submit, whether this argument does 
 not receive much additional strength from a 
 second view of the subject — that of the corrupt 
 
 De Rep. viii. 5. 
 C 
 
14 
 
 state of society. The theatre is allowed to be a 
 place of hazardous enchantment, even for those 
 who yet are uncontaminated by temptation. Sir 
 Walter Scott himself, a distinguished friend 
 of the stage, (for I will not alarm the reader 
 with puritanical authorities), in his elegant Dis- 
 sertation on the Drama, when speaking of the 
 immoral influence of genteel comedy in parti- 
 cular, makes the following concession : — " It 
 " is not so probable that the Beggar's Opera 
 " has sent any one from the two shilling gal- 
 " lery to the highway, as that a youth entering 
 " upon the world, and hesitating between good 
 " and evil, may, for instance, be determined 
 " to the worse course, by the gay and seduc- 
 " tive example of Lovemore, or Sir Charles 
 " Easy." This one sentence, from so eminent 
 a judge, speaks volumes. 
 
 What then must be the effect of the system, 
 bearing down with repeated, and accumulated 
 strength, upon the corrupt and abandoned part 
 of the populace ? It remains, however, to be 
 shewn, that such vicious persons come in any 
 great numbers within the range of theatrical 
 influence ; for some well intentioned persons, 
 who resort to this amusement, find it difficult 
 to believe, that the company with whom they 
 mix is very generally immoral ; is not, indeed, 
 respectable. Respectable and moral are epi- 
 thets of widely different import. That persons 
 
15 
 
 of respectability, as the civil custom of society 
 terms them, are frequently at perfect variance 
 with Christian morals, is most evident from the 
 single instance of allowed intoxication ; to omit 
 several other instances of immorality, of which 
 a gentleman, in this charitable world, may con- 
 tinue to be guilty, and yet maintain a character 
 confessedly respectable. 
 
 That, in many cases, vicious characters con- 
 stitute the body of the theatrical assemblage, is 
 acknowledged by the above high authority, who 
 observes of the London theatres — " That un- 
 " iess in case of strong attraction, prostitutes 
 " and their admirers usually form the principal 
 " part of the audience." The same may be 
 said in lower, but proportionate degrees, of 
 theatres in the country. Whatever be the cause 
 of this corrupt assemblage, the fact is the same. 
 Indeed, if the theatre be a place precisely suit- 
 ed to the relish of the immoral classes of soci- 
 ety, and only not quite so much adapted to the 
 taste of those of an opposite description, (whe- 
 ther this taste in either case be sound or not, 
 is here of no consequence), it follows, that the 
 majority of the audience will be at least of defi- 
 cient character on the score of Christian morals. 
 
 This has been illustrated, I think very happi- 
 ly, in some such manner as the following. Let 
 the moral genius of the theatre be ascertained, 
 as poisoned waters have sometimes been tested 
 
 c 2 
 
16 
 
 by the introduction of a healthy fish into the 
 fountain, which fish has betokened the suspect- 
 ed fact, by shewing a certain restlessness or lan- 
 guor. Let a person, for instance, of cultivated 
 piety and morality, attend on the services of 
 religion ; he is perfectly at home, he is happy. 
 Introduce him to the theatre. Is he now in his 
 element ? Does he enter with a genuine and 
 vigorous joy, into all that is passing ? A person 
 of this character, if we even suppose him capa- 
 ble of sometimes resorting to the theatre, as an 
 innocent amusement, so denominated, cannot 
 possibly admit of that delightful absorption of 
 his faculties in this pursuit, which he allows in 
 those grand duties of life that are perfectly con- 
 genial with his virtuous inclinations. He will 
 abandon it the moment he finds it forfeiting, 
 by an excessive excitement, either of the spi- 
 rits or of the passions, the character of an ex- 
 hilirating relaxation. Nor will he be always 
 at the play even w 7 hen he requires to be amu- 
 sed. Other recreations w 7 ill, with him, have 
 their turn, and that in proportion to their com- 
 parative degrees of importance. Were it not 
 so, he would seem to be the slave of this single 
 enchantment, which is contrary to the virtues 
 we suppose him to possess. Pleasure is not his 
 business, and the theatre will not be a place of 
 his much desired resort. Considerations of ex- 
 pence, &c. which the vicious, in their love of 
 
17 
 
 this amusement, overleap at one free bound, 
 will frequently detain him from this scene of 
 gratification. Remember, I do not grant the 
 virtuous instance in question ; but merely sup- 
 pose it for the sake of argument, because it is 
 in favour of those who plead for the drama. 
 
 Now, let us behold a person of abandoned 
 character and habits. Lead him to church or 
 chapel. Is he interested and delighted ? That 
 is impossible. Conduct him to the play, and 
 what do you perceive ? Listlessness and un- 
 concern ? No, indeed ! The man is in an ex- 
 tacy of pleasure. When he sat in the church, 
 his thoughts were sometimes in the theatre ; 
 now he is in the theatre, are his thoughts gone 
 to church ? Nor is this a fancied view of the 
 subject : it is matter of established fact. Now, 
 on this principle of moral taste, neither church 
 nor theatre, will be a common ground of meet- 
 ing between these two characters. In other 
 cases they may associate, and with mutual sa- 
 tisfaction, as to transact affairs in trade ; but 
 at the appearance of some grand moral test, 
 they will naturally separate. Should each then, 
 on some extraordinary occasion, be found in 
 the place, (church or theatre), which stands 
 opposed to his moral preference, it will arise 
 from some subordinate consideration, and not 
 from the general spring and character of the 
 mind. There are, however, obvious reasons 
 
18 
 
 why immoral persons may be expected more 
 frequently to visit churches, than good men 
 the theatre. 
 
 The inference deducible from these obser- 
 vations, is, that, generally speaking, the thea- 
 tre will be the resort of vitiated characters. 
 Nor is it an argument against this, that num- 
 bers who attend the play, are very far remo- 
 ved from the most vicious of the audience ; 
 and are comparatively decent and respectable ; 
 for moral evil can subsist in a multiplicity of 
 modifications and degrees, among those who, 
 far from avowing the principles of the infidel, 
 yet are greatly destitute of Christian morality, 
 ox piety, and would indeed feel some shame to 
 be considered as much concerned about it. 
 
 That society is in a state of actual corrup- 
 tion is indisputable \ and the argument is the 
 same, whatever be the origin of the mischief. 
 If it be acquired merely by example, as some 
 affirm, I should think this is not much in fa- 
 vour of fictitious specimens of moral evil ; and 
 one great advocate of the stage expressly at- 
 tributes human depravity to the principle of 
 imitation.* If it be the developement of some- 
 thing properly original, innate, and radicated 
 in the character ; thus presenting a material 
 highly combustible to the fire of temptation, as 
 
 * See Fellowes's Christian Philosophy, p. J.22. 
 
19 
 
 the Scriptures, in my opinion, have put beyond 
 all just exception ; it may then be judged, a 
 priori, what would be the effect of a theatrical 
 picture of immorality moving with seductive 
 life before the eye of the vicious, even on the 
 supposition that some corrective circumstances 
 accompanied the representation. The heart is 
 more likely to sympathize with that part of the 
 exhibition which is the entertaining archetype 
 of its own character, than with that which is 
 pure and good ; as the steel leaves other sub- 
 stances with which it is but loosely combined, 
 and rushes on the magnet. And this chiefly 
 because of the pleasurable imitation ; for the 
 same evil judiciously set forth in words, or in- 
 cidentally discovered in real life, would proba- 
 bly produce a very different, and much more 
 salutary effect. 
 
 Historv abounds with instances of moral 
 
 1/ 
 
 evil ; but these are not to be compared with 
 dramatic pictures of this kind. I recur to the 
 scale of impression referred to above, and ask, 
 is there not an obvious — an essential difference 
 between narrative and action ? Besides, as the 
 chief design of history is not to entertain, but 
 to instruct, it is by no means so liable as the 
 drama to stray from the path of utility. Ard 
 the frequently unnatural and false outline and 
 structure of fictitious characters, which Sir 
 Walter Scott particularly charges on the 
 
German stage, must be dangerous in the last 
 degree ; such virtues and vices as are, in truth f 
 and fact, incompatible attributes of the same 
 person, being sometimes found in combination ; 
 lasciviousness, for instance, with modesty ; not 
 a modesty intended as the mask of hypocrisy, 
 but as an integral part of the man. And what 
 will any Christian say of soothing allusions to 
 the eternal rest and peace of a dramatic charac- 
 ter, who died, perhaps covered with sin, and 
 in the spirit of revenge ? 
 
 It now appears, that corrupt examples on the 
 stage act upon a huge mass of similar corrup- 
 tion. And when we consider how naturally, 
 and without assistance, this corruption over- 
 swells its banks, and demands suppression ra- 
 ther than the help of dramatic genius, and 
 songs, &c. to open the way for its highest tide 
 and spread, one is tempted to ask, in the sin- 
 gular language of a living writer, " Who would 
 " add momentum to an avalanche from the 
 " Andes, or accelerate the bolt that speeds 
 " from the secret place of thunder ?" 
 
 The vicious character of plays in general is a 
 third argument on this subject. This charac- 
 ter is either essential or incidental. . It appears 
 that the essential rules of the drama, as invent- 
 ed by the antients, require at least a hazardous 
 exhibition of bad sentiments and passions. It 
 has indeed been thought quite possible to con- 
 
21 
 
 struct a tragedy or comedy which might be in- 
 nocent and edifying. This was the opinion of 
 the celebrated Richard Baxter. What sort 
 of theatre it would be, which should exhibit 
 nothing truly dramatic, or resembling real life, 
 — nothing, or next to nothing, of moral evil, 
 contrasted with its opposite, — nothing of the 
 pungent interest which arises from depth of 
 plot and passion, it is difficult to say. It might 
 be edifying, as preceptial and declamatory, em- 
 ploying dramas something like the fourth kind 
 of tragedy specified in the Poetics, as chiefly 
 sentimental, and which the great critic deems 
 the most insipid sort of tragic writing ; yet in 
 this kind of acting there would probably be 
 something tame and uninteresting on the whole, 
 as an affected imitation of reality. It would, 
 however, be essentially different in its abstract 
 principles as an art, from the theatre as invent- 
 ed by ^Eschylus, and transmitted to modern 
 times. The true character of the Christian, 
 shewing meekness under insults, forgiving his 
 enemies, and humbling himself with uncom- 
 plaining, unimpassioned submissiveness to the 
 tempestuous Providence of heaven, would make 
 but a sorry figure before a popular audience. 
 The actual stage, then, in its best and purest 
 forms of Grecian moral, we think, is dangerous, 
 because the principles of its very structure and 
 
 D 
 
22 
 
 being, require that it present the living image 
 of palpable wickedness. 
 
 What then shall we say of the multitudes of 
 plays which contain much more of wickedness 
 than the rules demand, and wickedness indeed 
 in contrariety to the rules ? We need not ap- 
 peal to the entire history of the drama for the 
 proof of this. The writings of its most distin- 
 guished and respectable defenders concede and 
 lament the fact. The mighty Shakespeare, 
 with a genius truly marvellous, and intellectual 
 beauties more than matchless, cannot be indis- 
 criminately read in any decent family ; and he 
 is acknowledged to be by far the purest of all 
 nis contemporaries. In the time of the second 
 Charles, the stage became still worse, and pre- 
 sented a series of comedies which Sir Walter 
 Scott allows were " Fitter for a brothel than 
 " for the library of a man of letters." After- 
 wards, in the days of Congreve, affairs were 
 not mended. The elegant writer, and candid 
 friend of the stage, above quoted, says of the 
 comic writers of this period, " They form a ga- 
 " laxy of talent scarce to be matched in any 
 " other age, and which is only obscured by 
 " those foul and impure mists which their 
 w pens, like the raven wings of Sycorax, had 
 " brushed from fern and bog." With what 
 superior wit, and sense, and learning, Jeremy 
 Collier swept them at least from the stage of 
 
23 
 
 controversy, extorting penitent submission from 
 Dryden himself, the prints of that time still 
 sufficiently declare. " At the perusal of Col- 
 " lier's Satire/' adds Sir Walter, " men 
 " started at the mass of impudence and filth 
 " which had been gradually accumulated in 
 4< the Augean stable of the theatre during the 
 " last reigns." And when another Collier 
 shall arise to dissect the plays which have since 
 appeared amongst us, it will then, but not till 
 then, be seen, with some conviction on the 
 public mind, that we have not materially im- 
 proved in the morality of stage-playing. Gross 
 indecencies have been abated -> but all the per- 
 nicious seductiveness remains. 
 
 Indeed, it always will be so while the morals 
 of society continue in a state of corruption ; be- 
 cause the stage must conform to the taste of the 
 people. This conformity is not denied, but is 
 freely acknowledged, and often used as an ex- 
 culpation of the poet and the player. This has 
 been the case from the beginning, as the author 
 of the Poetics himself admitted the objection ; 
 and Lewis Vives* informs us, that " Comedy 
 " treats of the knaveries and tricks of love, be- 
 " ing brought into it by Menander, to please 
 " the Macedonians that stood affected to such 
 " passages." Modern critics make no hesitation 
 
 * See his Notes on St. Augustine, p. 59. 
 D 2 
 
24 
 
 in confessing this mischievous property of the 
 theatre, among whom Mr Pope observes, in his 
 preface to Shakespeare, " It must be allowed 
 " that stage-poetry of all others is more particu- 
 " larly levelled to please the populace." Mo- 
 liere has tortured the character of Alcestes, in 
 the Misanthrope, purposely to excite laughter, 
 and laughter too of the most pernicious tenden- 
 cy, considering the qualities of simplicity and 
 goodness which are frequently the subject of it. 
 This, we think, is admirably proved and illus- 
 trated by Rousseau.* 
 
 Hear again, from the prologue written by 
 Dr Johnson, and spoken by Garrick, at the 
 opening of Drury-Lane Theatre, in 1747 : — 
 
 " Ah ! let not censure term our fate our choice, 
 " The stage but echoes back the public voice ; 
 " The drama's laws the drama's patrons give, 
 " For we that live to please, must please to live." 
 
 A still more striking, nay, shocking evidence 
 of theatrical compromise, the public will re- 
 member, took place some years ago, when it 
 was regularly proposed to effect some altera- 
 tions in one of the London theatres, for the 
 purpose of excluding a certain class of females, 
 from that part of the house ; and when the 
 proposal was rejected for this reason, — that the 
 
 * See his Thoughts on Different Subjects, vol. II. p. 7. 
 
25 
 
 measure would occasion the absence of multi- 
 tudes of the other sex, who visited the theatre 
 on purpose to meet w T ith this description of com- 
 pany. At the time when the horses were in- 
 troduced upon the London stage, Mr Sheridan 
 observed in parliament, that a taste so vicious 
 was not to be ascribed to the managers ; but to 
 a luxuriant state of society, in a country a- 
 bou riding with riches, and fastidious in its en- 
 tertainments. Such managers would not pro- 
 bably be over anxious to contradict the moral 
 taste of the people. 
 
 Other evidence on this particular will not be 
 asked, otherwise an abundance might be pro- 
 duced, and from the same indisputable autho- 
 rities, authorities all ranged on the theatrical 
 side of the argument A strange state of things, 
 by the bye, as the theatre, according to the 
 English editor of Riccoboni, " Has ever been 
 " esteemed the best school for polishing and 
 " improving the manners of a people." It 
 would seem the scholars have rebelled against 
 the master and his ushers, and dictated the les- 
 sons most to their own liking. 
 
 Now, I ask, is there the shadow of this flat- 
 tering and pernicious suppleness in Christiani- 
 ty ? Are not its fallible ministers, whatever be 
 their differing opinions on other points ; or, in- 
 deed, whatever be the private character of in- 
 dividuals of their body, unanimous in publish- 
 
26 
 
 ing the purest morality ? Whoever knew of a 
 minister preaching revenge, and pride, and las- 
 civiousness ? Such is the dignity of sacred 
 truth ! Itself thus immaculate, and unbending 1 
 as the pillars of the earth, it must stamp with 
 its own authoritative reprobation, a system 
 which, as in the case before us, can plead self- 
 convicted of lowering that lofty standard of 
 moral purity which the Eternal has planted by 
 his own right hand ; and can still, to please and 
 live, (O God have mercy !) repeat and dejend 
 the desperate presumption ! 
 
 And while the audience hold themselves in 
 possession of this sovereignty, we may judge 
 of the nature of the tasks to be imposed on the 
 performers. And from this action and re-ac- 
 tion of the parties, we might farther predict 
 what would be the alarming consequence as to 
 the state itself, did not some counteracting ele- 
 ments mix in the composition of civil society. 
 Hence, though a certain policy has led to the 
 legal toleration of theatres, governments have 
 still considered them as evils to be carefully 
 watched and restricted. At the restoration, 
 even our dissipated Charles found it prudent 
 to limit them to two for the metropolis. Had 
 they been schools of virtue and good manners, 
 it would have been excellent policy to multiply 
 them by hundreds, 
 
 In the fourth place, we observe, that the im- 
 
27 
 
 posing circumstances of the theatre, the orato- 
 ry, the decorations, the music, &c. give prodi- 
 gious effect to the characters and manners re- 
 presented, and by consequence to the moral 
 evil exhibited. The critical Rapin concedes, 
 " That in the theatre, the heart yields itself 
 " over to all the objects proposed to it ; that 
 " all images affect it ; that it espouses the sen- 
 " timents of all who speak ; and becomes sus- 
 " ceptible of all the passions presented to it, 
 " because it is moved."* Now is not this suf- 
 ficient to throw the mind from its balance? 
 " Amid this general dance and ministrelsy, ,, 
 will the heart, perhaps already greatly corrupt- 
 ed, regulate the general effect, so as to resist 
 the undue impression of what is evil, and care- 
 fully select that small portion of moral good 
 which comes floating like a straw upon the ge- 
 neral tide ? If persons of rank, or education, 
 accustomed to splendour, or reflection, should, 
 from their intellectual strength, maintain some 
 superiority, and fixture of mind, will this be the 
 case with the inferior parts of the audience ? 
 Indeed the swollen grandeur of the whole is cal- 
 culated to operate on the romantic and aspir- 
 ing notions of multitudes in every rank of so- 
 ciety, in awakening morbid sensibilities and 
 wishes, and in returning them .to the low vale 
 
 * See his Reflections on the Poetics, 
 
28 
 
 of ordinary life, dissatisfied, if not disgusted, 
 with its plain and unadorned realities. 
 
 Again, the great influence of strong and gra- 
 tifying impressions, frequently repeated on the 
 mind of youth, in forming the character by 
 slow and almost unconscious degrees, must be 
 obvious to every thinking person. By the dra- 
 matic representation, ibr instance, of a brave 
 but revengeful personage, admiration is excited; 
 an admiration greatly heightened by the plea- 
 surable emotions of the evening. Thus the seed 
 of similar revenge is sown in the unguarded 
 heart, which may neither be of immediate, nor 
 of rapid growth ; but which, when injury is felt, 
 will shew itself in the same loftiness of honour- 
 able resentment, so called, and give, perhaps, 
 a determination of this kind to the character 
 through life. The same might be said of other 
 passions which need not here be specified. That 
 the mind takes its tincture from the subjects 
 with which it is particularly conversant and de- 
 lighted, is no new discovery. Demosthenes 
 remarks, " In my opinion, it is altogether im- 
 " possible that those who are occupied, for ex- 
 " ample, in matters of trifling import and un- 
 " worthy of their attention, should ever pos- 
 " sess an elevated and vigorous turn of mind ; 
 " for it must necessarily follow, that of what- 
 " ever nature be the pursuits of men, such will 
 " be their sentiments and inclinations.' * 
 
 * OXvv6. B. 2. 
 
L 29 
 
 It is therefore incorrect to suppose, that the 
 theatre has no pernicious tendency, because the 
 whole audience do not, on their dismissal from 
 the play, immediately, unanimously, and vio- 
 lently proceed to the full degree of delinquen- 
 cy of which man is capable ; as if moral causes 
 produced their effects with the same certainty 
 and promptitude which are observed to attend 
 the operation of causes in the physical world. 
 Temptations the most gross and powerful do 
 not always take effect. Shall we, therefore, say 
 that they have no tendency to mischief? Ts 
 there no danger in the field of battle, because 
 some are merely wounded, and some escape 
 unhurt ? Nothing could be more vile and de- 
 moralizing than the religious rites sometimes 
 observed in several of the Grecian temples, yet 
 numbers, it is well known, maintained, notwith- 
 standing their attendance there, a conduct such 
 as we sometimes describe as a life of common 
 decency. Some have led the life of a drunkard 
 for nearly fourscore years, but what physician 
 will aver that drunkenness has no tendency to 
 destroy the constitution of the frame ? " Those 
 " deceive themselves extremely," observes the 
 Prince of Conti, " who think that plays make 
 " no ill impression on the mind, because they 
 " do not find them excite any .formed evil de- 
 " sire. There are many degrees before one 
 " comes to an entire corruption of the heart ; 
 
 E 
 
30 
 
 " and it is always very hurtful to the soul, to 
 c * destroy the ramparts which secured it from 
 " temptation. One does not begin to fall when 
 " the fall becomes sensible ; the fallings of the 
 " soul are slow, they have their preparations 
 " and progressions, and it often happens that 
 " we are overcome by temptations only by our 
 " having weakened ourselves in things which 
 " seemed of no importance ; it being certain 
 " that he who despises little things, shall fall 
 " by little and little/* 
 
 The immoral consequences of the theatre 
 will not probably be so immediate and notori- 
 ous in persons of repute and decency, who 
 have fixed upon their minds the conviction of 
 its innocence, and have accustomed themselves 
 to enjoy its impressions, as in the case of those 
 who secretly suspect, or admit its evil tendency, 
 and yield to the tempter. In this last instance, 
 the energies of the soul are roused by a strug- 
 gle, which, if it be determined on the wrong 
 side, may speedily be followed by overt acts of 
 crime ; because those energies continue, impel- 
 ling the mind to action after its choice has been 
 decided ; as he who attempts to reach a cer- 
 tain point may, from his vigour and impetuosi- 
 ty, run considerably beyond it. But the former 
 case involves no opposition. All is peaceful, 
 harmonious, and uniform. The heart and its 
 allowed amusements move consentaneously in 
 
m 
 
 the same direction. The mischief, however, is 
 not the less effectual and diffusive. It makes a 
 silent but certain way to the inmost soul of the 
 man, and feeds and strengthens the more cor- 
 rupt elements of his character ; a character, 
 perhaps of common, not of Christian morality ; 
 the character, indeed, of those whom St Paul 
 describes as " Lovers of pleasure more than 
 " lovers of God." This idolatrous excess of 
 pleasure will be cherished by the theatre. The 
 most that can be said is, that this fashionable 
 sort of morality is not materially affected by it. 
 Still the theatre serves to rivet the dreadful chain 
 of sinfulness and curse which is unconsciously 
 sustained. There may be a hidden process of 
 iniquity where there is no monstrous burst of 
 passion, or of actual disobedience to the autho- 
 rity of God* For instance, the calm and con- 
 stant grasp with which pride or envy holds the 
 human spirit is, in some respects, more mischiev- 
 ous than paroxysms of anger, and always more 
 deceptive. 
 
 Perhaps some friends of the theatre will ad- 
 mit the existence, to some extent, of the ten- 
 dency in question, but will rest the cause on 
 certain principles of moral effect interwoven 
 with the drama, which are presumed to give 
 the whole a virtuous turn ; as the law of gravi- 
 tation acts upon the planets, and attracts them 
 from their projectile inclination into orbits of 
 
 e 2 
 
m 
 
 surprising regularity and usefulness. The 
 testing of these principles will be the subject of 
 another section. 
 
 III. Of the Principles of Moral Effect attributed 
 to the Drama. 
 
 It was observed, that certain principles of 
 effect, interwoven with the drama, are profess- 
 ed to lay the system, and especially acted spe- 
 cimens of bad character, under ample contribu- 
 tion to the moral improvement of society. It 
 remains to offer some remarks on the inefficien- 
 cy of these principles. 
 
 In the .first place, much imposing disquisition 
 has been written to shew, that the tragic ex- 
 citement of terror and pity tends to purify the 
 passions. This was originally asserted by the 
 celebrated author of the Poetics, but was not 
 by him very fully illustrated. Hence his com- 
 mentators and disciples have widely differed on 
 the subject ; some thinking the purgation refer- 
 red to pity and terror only, and others that it 
 reached through these two passions to all the 
 rest ; one party contending that it involved the 
 simple tempering of both, and another that it 
 went to dispossess the soul of their very exis- 
 tence. Certain critics deem it nothing more 
 than the result of the moral lesson of the tragic 
 
33 
 
 scene. And some eminent expounders of the 
 stage have denied the fact of this purgation al- 
 together.* 
 
 What great use would arise from being freed 
 from pity, would be difficult to point out. Nor 
 is the moderating of these passions of the first 
 importance in the moral process. If the great 
 bearing of the theatre went, with some success, 
 to curb the selfish passions of pride, sensuality, 
 and covetousness ; and to strengthen and ex- 
 pand the whole train of the benevolent ones, 
 there would then be some colour for these lofty 
 pretensions of the ..stage. We deny not, that 
 for the time, a certain soothing, softening, plea- 
 surable melancholy may be diffused through the 
 soul, by the feeling of pity artificially excited ; 
 but that this will improve, in real life, the pity 
 of the man whose general principles are bad, 
 we cannot understand. It is neither explained 
 nor proved. Nor does the fact confirm it ; for 
 it is commonly remarked, that those who are 
 most attached to works of fiction, and can weep 
 most plentifully at scenes of imaginary woe, are 
 frequently, of all others, the most insensible, at 
 least to the practical effect, of scenes of ge- 
 nuine distress. Accustomed to the high sea- 
 soning and excitement of the theatre, the com- 
 
 * See Manwaring on the Classics ; Twining's Notes on 
 the Poetics ; Essay on the Theatre, &c. 
 
M 
 
 mon food of pity, furnished in the afflictions of 
 real life, loses much of its stimulating property, 
 or perhaps becomes distasteful. It may here 
 be added, that a moderate excitement improves 
 the habit of the feeling, while excess commonly 
 terminates in morbidness and apathy. 
 
 The pleasure of this tragic emotion, it is pro- 
 bable, is the chief design of the auditor, and 
 hence he is not likely to go beyond his object. 
 How then can the pleasure which is indulged 
 on a principle of selfishness, issue in the gene- 
 rosity of a genuine tenderness ? This self-amu- 
 sing auditor will take pretty good care that his 
 favourite prejudices and vices, which used to 
 corrupt his fear and pity, shall not be dismissed 
 on his return to common life. 
 
 Now, one single instance of this kind, I 
 think, would be sufficient to throw discredit on 
 the theory. Christianity can never Jail to ef- 
 fect the highest moral purification in the mind 
 that fully yields to its embuing influence ; the 
 evil lies in repelling this sacred energy, even 
 among those who make profession of its princi- 
 ples. But behold a man beneath the awful so- 
 vereignty of the tragic scene. He has entered 
 the theatre with the wish to be conquered. He 
 is the willing, the delighted subject of such 
 thrilling emotions as put him in possession of 
 the genuine spirit, and full force of the tragic 
 system. He weeps profusely at the imitated 
 
35 
 
 sorrows and perplexities of the hero, and retires 
 with an ineffable sadness and sympathy for the 
 hapless image that still moves to the view of 
 his enamoured fancy. He returns again, and 
 again, to be the still more perfect subject of si- 
 milar impressions. Is he not now a prodigy of 
 fraternal kindness, and an angel of benevolence 
 to some wide extended neighbourhood ? On 
 the contrary, he becomes increasingly insensi- 
 ble to the interests of his friends and family, in 
 the habitual neglect of his duty towards them, 
 and finally begins to lose all pity for himself, 
 and accelerates his own destruction by a suc- 
 cession of egregious follies. Nor is this fiction, 
 but fact ; as the cases, were it requisite, could 
 be readily produced. Few, I believe, who are 
 thoroughly acquainted with the history of any 
 given theatre, will be unable to point out num- 
 bers of such instances. Suppose the above un- 
 happy character be not thus demoralized by his 
 attendance at the theatre, still he is himself an 
 evidence of the inefficiency of tragic emotion 
 as to its alleged value in the cultivation of his 
 pity. 
 
 On the other hand, the existence of this pas- 
 sion, in its happiest developement, among thou- 
 sands of excellent and valuable men, who, to 
 say the least, have never formed the habit of at- 
 tending the theatre, seems still further to nar- 
 row the importance of tragedy as to this parti- 
 
cular view of its power. The great Howard is 
 an instance of the most genuine and finished 
 sensibility, but this was not acquired at the the- 
 atre ; his religious principles, as well as his be- 
 nevolent pursuits, precluding at least his habi- 
 tual appearance at such an amusement. As 
 some, however, may observe, that single instan- 
 ces prove nothing, I ask, (and the argument 
 entitles me to ask), are those, in general, who 
 frequent the theatre, distinguished above others 
 for a purified, and rational, and useful tender- 
 ness of feeling ? And have the most eminent 
 benefactors of mankind, speaking of them as a 
 body, owed their eminence, as far as a moving 
 pity has contributed to form their character, to 
 an attendance on the theatre ? And, on the 
 other hand, are the enemies of the theatre, 
 viewing them at large, more obviously and de- 
 cidedly the subjects of an uncharitable and ob- 
 durate kind of feeling than its friends ? If all 
 this must be denied, we have then a right, (at 
 least I think so), to conclude, that tragedy is 
 not possessed, in any tangible degree, of that 
 celebrated property of purifying the passions 
 which, it would seem, has made its most shin- 
 ing figure in the writings of literary men. 
 
 Mr Twining, perhaps the most sagacious 
 and candid of the commentators on this sub- 
 ject, is by no means confident. Having stated 
 his opinion, he modestly submits it to the judge- 
 
37 
 
 merit of his philosophical readers. And thus a 
 doctrine, that assumes a pompous character of 
 profundity and utility, in the theories of the 
 drama, is reduced, even by the discrepancies 
 and concessions of its friends, to nothing, or 
 next to nothing ; at least as far as relates to its 
 practical bearing on the moral improvement of 
 mankind. But if the virtues, after this flooding 
 of the soul with pleasure, are said to grow of 
 themselves, unknown to the understanding, or 
 will, or conscience of the moral agent, I think 
 we shall then be justified in saying, that there 
 is even such a thing as theatrical enthusiasm ! 
 Indeed, considering what are the component 
 parts of moral character in the generality of 
 tragedies, it might seem that pity would be 
 even pernicious, melting the soul to the love of 
 the hero, and endearing his evil qualities, if not 
 his crimes, to the audience. To conclude this 
 topic, I presume, that a very superior mode of 
 cultivating this amiable passion, is, frequently to 
 visit the abodes of real sorrow, and on the scene 
 of deeper grief than the sufferer will or can ex- 
 press, to drop our genuine charity, " Weeping 
 " with them that weep." 
 
 But, in the second place, the stage is said to 
 be of great use, because, by its pictures of cha- 
 racter, it awakens our instinctive approbation 
 of virtue, and detestation of vice. When it is 
 ascertained, with precision, that such feelings 
 
38 
 
 are strictly instinctive and natural, apart from 
 tuition, and the light and power of heaven ; 
 still it will be necessary that the spectator 
 come to the theatre with his instinct unbiased 
 and uncorruptedy else where is the probability 
 of its favourable excitement ? Would one who, 
 through error, (to use a soft word,) believed it 
 right to kill the body for the sake of the soul, 
 detest the sight of a martyred heretic? And 
 will he who is attached to a certain line of con- 
 duct by vice, relinquish it from seeing a few in- 
 stances of its character and mischief imperfect- 
 ly represented on the stage, while, after having 
 felt the unhappy consequences of his folly a 
 thousand times, he never thought of an amend- 
 ment? 
 
 But should we allow this instinct, how base- 
 ly must it be decoyed, and bribed, and con- 
 founded, by gilded exhibitions of crime in ma- 
 ny principal characters on the stage, which are 
 obviously designed, or from the interest they 
 excite are calculated, for imitation ? This is 
 
 THE GRAND EVIL OF THE THEATRE. The Hlles 
 
 of the drama have not yet prescribed the pro- 
 per limits to the acting of moral evil, and the 
 poets have made most ample use of the licence. 
 They go too far, and still not far enough. We 
 detest Iago, but we are pleased with Falstaff. 
 Here again we have the concessions of the 
 mightiest advocates and critics of the drama. 
 
39 
 
 The Stagyrite himself, according to Twining, 
 " admitted, with Plato, the danger of poeti- 
 " cal, embellished, and flattering exhibitions of 
 " vice." Dr Johnson has observed, " Lotha- 
 " rio, with gaiety which cannot be hated, and 
 " bravery which cannot be despised, retains 
 " too much of the spectator's kindness. It was 
 " in the power of Richardson alone to teach 
 " us at once esteem and detestation ; to make 
 " virtuous resentment overpower all the bene- 
 " volence which wit, and elegance, and cou- 
 " rage, naturally excite ; and to lose at last the 
 " hero in the villain. ,, He adds elsewhere, 
 *' There is always danger, lest wickedness, con- 
 " joined with abilities, should steal upon es- 
 " teem, though it misses of approbation." 
 
 Indeed, this species of effect is so powerful 
 and certain, that it seems to be a rule, in the 
 formation of the characters, to supply the defi- 
 ciency of the hero as to estimable qualities, by 
 adorning him with such as are great and splen- 
 did j purposely to excite that interest in his 
 favour which otherwise would be sunk and 
 lost.* And the author of an Essay on the 
 Theatre^ after having given us critical rules 
 for composing plays, subjoins this admis- 
 sion : " Our dramatic writers seem to have 
 " made it their business to familiarize their au- 
 
 * See Twining, Note 1.55. f Lond - H60. 
 F 2 
 
40 
 
 " diences to vice, and we need make no doubt, 
 " that the immorality of the stage has greatly 
 " contributed to that universal depravity of 
 " manners, which is but too visible among all 
 " ranks of* people/' I ask, can the most per- 
 fect puritantsm dictate a more dreadful sentence 
 against the theatre than has been here delibe- 
 rately promulgated by the pen of one of its most 
 intelligent and fast friends ? 
 
 In the third place, — Ridicule is another boast- 
 ed moral engine of the drama. However this 
 may be legitimately applied to the foibles of 
 mankind, I think there can be no question of 
 the monstrous incongruity and perniciousness 
 of a ridiculous personation of crimes upon the 
 stage. What ! will any one be cured of drunk- 
 enness, and swearing, and cheating, and lying, 
 by laughing at those vices, either in himself, or 
 in a ludicrous imitation of them ? This is in 
 such perfect opposition to the Christian Scheme, 
 that nothing can be more so. Let any one con- 
 template the remorse, the shame, the grief, the 
 contrition, contained in the Scripture represen- 
 tations of repentance, and judge whether such 
 opposite modes of amendment can possibly ex- 
 ist combined in the same character ? Heathen 
 nations have been known to act on a far more 
 philosophic view of human nature ; and Taci- 
 tus ascribes the virtue of the ancient Germans 
 partly to their never using ridicule in reference 
 
41 
 
 to crimes, but always holding them up to utter 
 abhorrence.* Hear again the concession of a 
 most distinguished patron and exquisite judge 
 of the theatre : — " What is now held the fit 
 " subject of comic mirth and ridicule in Christian 
 " theatres, was never employed but to stir up 
 " the utmost horror and commiseration in the 
 " heathen. The falsehood of the wife or hits- 
 " band has given occasion to noble tragedies ; 
 " but a Scipio and a Lelius would have looked 
 " upon incest or murder to have been as proper 
 " subjects of comedy. "t 
 
 Supposing, in some cases, and under certain 
 circumstances, the language, not the dramatic 
 action of ridicule, should be admitted as to 
 crimes, still the pleasantry of the thing would 
 belong to the censor, and not to the criminal, 
 who ought to feel the application in the excite- 
 ment of remorse and shame ; for in all instances 
 of ridicule, if, when you laugh at the faults of 
 another, he himself joins in the laugh, you are 
 confounded, and the merriment is now at an 
 end, as evidently useless, or probably pernici- 
 ous. I here exclude dramatic action, and recur 
 to the scale mentioned in the first section. 
 
 Nearly allied, if not essential to the ridicule 
 of the stage, is comic humour. But what does 
 
 * "Inter illos nemo vitia ridet nee corrumpere et cor- 
 rumpi seculum rocatur." 
 
 f See Hurd's Horace, vol. \. p. 114. 
 
42 
 
 the highly gifted writer, just quoted, deem es- 
 sential to this humour, at least to that which is 
 most popular on the English stage ? His words 
 are these : — " The historian of Peru tells us, 
 " that there were no obscenities in their co- 
 " medy ; and an encomiast of China pretends, 
 " that there is not so much as an obscene word 
 " in all their language. I am sensible, that 
 " though indeed, these must needs be consider- 
 " able abatements to the humour of their 
 " comic scenes, yet their ingenuity might pos- 
 " sibly find means to remedy these defects by 
 " the invention and dexterous application of 
 " the double entendre, which on our stage, is 
 " found to supply the place of rank obscenity, 
 " and, indeed, to do its office of exciting 
 " laughter almost as well."* From the sacred 
 profession of this vigorous writer, I am willing 
 to believe, that he could not in the least ap- 
 prove of the adoption of such means, in a pub- 
 lic audience, to mend the morals of society, 
 though his words might seem to bear this un- 
 happy construction. His authority, however, 
 as conceding the fact of this adoption, is such as 
 no friend of the drama can dispute ; and I 
 leave it to the judgement of all good and candid 
 men to say, whether, by the employment of 
 such a species of ridicule, the sanctity of public 
 
 * See Kurd's Horace, vol. I. p. 251. 
 
43 
 
 morals is likely to be well secured and pro- 
 moted. 
 
 Fourthly, — Great stress is laid on the moral 
 sentiments contained in plays. Is instruction 
 the object of those who attend the theatre ? 
 They candidly confess it is not. Is that in- 
 struction afterwards remembered and dwelt up- 
 on in conversation ? Yes, when the propriety of 
 this amusement is contested ; then, but not till 
 then, they abstract it, with some difficulty, from 
 the rest of the piece, by way of vindication ; 
 shifting the defence to a plea to which they 
 have no claim, as those who indulge in extra- 
 vagant dress tell you, it is good for trade. 
 
 The piquant amusement which stamps the 
 character of the stage forbids any solemn recog- 
 nition of religious considerations. Tragico- 
 medy is condemned by the rules of dramatic 
 writing, because with the strong tide of one 
 sort of feeling, that of its opposite* is met in a 
 manner too abrupt and violent, to the distress- 
 ing confusion of both. Transferring the prin- 
 ciple to the moral view of plays, it answers 
 equally to good taste and experience, that the 
 solemnities of religion should not be mixed up 
 with loose recreations, such as light music, &c. 
 It follows, that the moral sentiments of the 
 theatre can never be presented in a genuine 
 light, and as fixed upon a true basis. They 
 are not drawn from the pure fountains of the 
 
44 
 
 Sacred Scriptures, and are therefore mixed up 
 with much of dangerous error in relation to the 
 principles of morals ; and, supposing them to be 
 unimpeachably sound, yet the points to which 
 they approximate are comparatively few, and 
 those by no means of the first importance. 
 Nor are they sanctioned, and riveted upon the 
 heart and conscience, by any serious and direct 
 recognition of divine authority, and of the aw- 
 ful tribunals and appointments of eternity. In- 
 deed, moral sentiments are not to be found at 
 all in many long acts of the most popular pro- 
 ductions. I speak generally. The exceptions 
 are, however, so extremely few, that though, 
 collectively, they might impose upon the mind 
 by their absolute extent, yet given in their re- 
 lative proportions, as parts of an immense 
 whole, they would diminish almost into no- 
 thingness. 
 
 Are we nQt also in much danger of omitting 
 to discriminate between morality and that which 
 is merely intellectual. The antients sometimes 
 used the terms good and bad in a wider sense 
 than was correct, or safe, as to morals ; reckon- 
 ing wisdom and eloquence among the virtues, 
 and what was trifling and mean, among the 
 vices. Who can help smiling at the moral 
 virtue of walking with stateliness along the 
 streets of Rome ?* A little of the same inaccu- 
 
 * See Cicero De Of. 
 
45 
 
 racy has crept into our own language, especial* 
 ly as used by ignorant and vicious men when 
 speaking under the influence of strong preju* 
 dice, either for or against the subject of their 
 observations. Where is the morality of Shake- 
 speare's beautiful description of Dover Cliff 5 
 and of an infinity of other passages in the same 
 great author ? His intellectual beauties are 
 great and numerous, but the pure moral of his 
 works, when sifted from the mass, will be re- 
 duced within a very narrow compass ; nor is 
 this at all surprising, if, as Dr Johnson thinks, 
 " He wrote without any moral purpose/' The 
 indiscriminate perusal, therefore, of such mixed 
 productions, by young persons, unadmonished 
 and uninstructed, as to the difficult and dan* 
 gerous path which leads through this enchanted 
 ground, must be attended with such hazard as 
 no Christian parent would wish to put in the 
 way of a beloved child* 
 
 And is not superior instruction to be obtain* 
 ed elsewhere, without the great moral risk and 
 danger which all parties agree to be connected 
 with the theatre ? Is it wise to take the danger- 
 ous side in a doubtful case of great importance ? 
 But the good things are usually lost in the pre- 
 ponderance of the evil things, and in the amus- 
 ing effect of the whole. Again, those who plead 
 these good things, forget to balance them with 
 another kind of instruction, with which they are 
 
 G 
 
46 
 
 often found in artful combination — the instruc- 
 tion, by precept or example, how to manage an 
 intrigue, to subvert the authority and elude the 
 vigilance of a parent, to cheat a creditor, or to 
 hatch some conspiracy against a magistrate or 
 a sovereign. The amazing talent and dexteri- 
 ty with which these projects are conducted, 
 through the invention of the poet, are not often 
 equalled in the history of real corruption. And 
 to teach the younger part of an audience the 
 art of expressing the passions is often danger- 
 ous, were it only from the principle, that a fa- 
 cility in such kind of expression re-acts with 
 strengthening power on the passions themselves. 
 The question then, is, whether the virtuous 
 part of plays in general, is such as to counter- 
 act their native tendency, or turn them to ad- 
 vantage ? 
 
 Indeed the good things of a play, it is to be 
 feared, are frequently the worst ; as they iden- 
 tify themselves with the whole tissue of the 
 piece, and lend the authority of truth and sanc- 
 tity to error and iniquity. At the close of a 
 drama, which has entertained the audience with 
 living pictures of vice, some fine moral is sug- 
 gested* which, like Satan as an angel of light, 
 sheds a deceptive radiance over all that has pre- 
 ceded, and bribes the conscience of the unwary ; 
 who are now very willing to believe, that they 
 have been most virtuously employed, instead of 
 
47 
 
 seeking nothing but their own gratification, 
 Still, the common observation is, " There are 
 " many good things in plays." Granted. But 
 where is the argument ? So there are genius and 
 morality in Don Juan, and the writings of Lord 
 Rochester j yet who will say this justifies the 
 publication of such trash ? 
 
 Lastly, — A profound principle of dramatic 
 operation lies in the ideal character of the 
 whole ; the truth of history, which dwells on 
 such instances as are particular and defective, 
 being rejected ; and the abstract of nature being 
 adopted, to furnish pictures of far nobler pro- 
 perties and dimensions than can be seen in the 
 world of reality. This the drama has in com- 
 mon with the other arts of imitation. The 
 principle is important, when legitimately ap- 
 plied, and gives to the mind the conscious 
 proof of its own eternal destination, where 
 alone it can find objects vast as its loftiest de- 
 sires. The colossal statue, the pyramid, and 
 every other instance of imaginative grandeur 
 give a swell to the soul, and accustom it to ex- 
 pansion ; thus squally imparting to it vigour 
 and refinement. 
 
 In the drama, however, the principle is car- 
 ried to excess ; the entire subject, and scene, 
 and action, being raised so high above ordinary 
 life as to prove too much for human weakness, 
 producing an intoxication of the mind which 
 
 g 2 
 
48 
 
 often leaves behind it vacuity, imbecility, a 
 contempt for the common allotments of Provi- 
 dence, and an extreme disinclination to the 
 plainer, and self-denying duties of social rela- 
 tionship. Hence, if the imagination should 
 have been pre-disposed to extravagance, cer- 
 tain ruin is the consequence. A person of this 
 description, after leaving the theatre, feels a 
 mighty inclination to transact business on the 
 high ground of dramatic existence, and to buy 
 and sell in blank verse. 
 
 The principle has its bounds, like every other 
 source of pleasure and improvement. Again I 
 recur to the scale, and observe, that a much 
 more extended accumulation of imaginative ex- 
 istence may be advantageously presented to us 
 in writing, than would be at all safe and proper 
 in an artificial realization belore a promiscuous 
 audience ; where, at least in many instances, 
 neither the level of the intellect, nor the state 
 of the mora) principle, could sustain the over- 
 whelming weight of the general impression. 
 The truth is, in dramatic characters, the moral 
 evil is drawn out into such dimensions, is so 
 frequently the subject of the action, and yet re- 
 ceives so much of interest from nobler qualities, 
 that the auditor becomes more familiarized with 
 vice than is safe and proper ; and when oppor- 
 tunity shall tempt, he scorns to be confined 
 within the bounds of vulgar life ; his love must 
 
49 
 
 be romantic, his resentment must be dreadful, 
 his ambition must be Roman, 
 
 The popularity of the drama leads to mon* 
 strous abuses of the ideal property in question ; 
 multitudes of writers being brought into opera* 
 tion, who are nearly destitute of the genius, and 
 of the knowledge of mankind, which are neces* 
 sary to a just conception of character, Hence 
 poetic taste is outraged, and morals endangered, 
 with a frequency that cannot fail to produce 
 the most fatal results. It is not so with other 
 arts. If, for instance, the works of the sculp* 
 tor shew not something of the true ideal and 
 perfection of his art, men of cultivated minds, 
 instead of purchasing his statues, will utterly 
 discourage him. But any thing in the form of 
 a play will be applauded, provided it be stimu^ 
 lating ; whatever be the nature, or tendency of 
 the interest excited. The stage abounds, in 
 consequence, with dramatic characters con* 
 structed as by perfect chance, and with a wild- 
 ness of combination in regard to moral proper- 
 ties, which sets truth, and consistency, and 
 good effect at < absolute defiance. This is a 
 fruitful source of that most dangerous display 
 of character, already noticed, in which great 
 virtues are seen to associate with the worst of 
 principles, and sometimes with their opposite 
 vices ; leaving the false impression on the igno* 
 rant and unwary, that with such vices one may 
 
50 
 
 still properly assume the designation of a good 
 man. On this subject, the uninformed reader 
 may be satisfied, by selecting almost any chief 
 character of the drama, and applying to it the 
 authoritative doctrine of Christian morality. The 
 very touch of this doctrine, I presume, will be 
 like that of Ithuriel's spear. 
 
 IV. Defensive Observations of the Advocates of 
 the Theatre considered. 
 
 Attachment to the stage, or to the opinion 
 which defends it, is frequently maintained by 
 those who feel a manifest conviction of its im- 
 propriety. I say manifest, because with regard 
 to such, in controversy, as already mentioned, 
 acrimonious observations, contempt, and an al- 
 most total avoidance of the leading arguments 
 adduced against the theatre, sufficiently be- 
 token the suspicions of their judgement ; and 
 their own subsequent confession has often put 
 the fact beyond dispute. With views thus en- 
 lightened, many have yet resolved never to for- 
 sake the scene of their guilty pleasures, till the 
 avenging fire of heaven, predicted by their own 
 consciences, (for whatever be the character of 
 the stage, such have been their sentiments re- 
 specting it), should overwhelm them with de- 
 struction. Others have lingered on the plain 
 
51 
 
 with an enamoured reluctance ; and by the in- 
 genuity of the pleadings to which at last they 
 have had recourse, evinced how high has been 
 the preference of the heart for this enchant* 
 ment, even when it stood in convincing con- 
 trast with the decisions of reason. The follow- 
 ing are the principal efforts of their retreating 
 strength. 
 
 In the first place we are told, that " Some 
 " good people attend the theatre." The ob- 
 jector ought precisely to inform us what he 
 means by good, as applied to character. We 
 should then possess a fair chance of meeting 
 this objection. Do those who evidently rank 
 among the best of mankind, both as to piety 
 and usefulness, resort to the play? Will any 
 one do so in proportion to his advancement in 
 moral excellence ? Besides, can good people, so 
 called, do no wrong ? How often have we heard 
 this language, " I used sometimes to attend the 
 " theatre, but my conscience always smote me 
 " for it?" 
 
 The principle, however, of this common ob- 
 jection, is obviQusly false and dangerous ; be- 
 cause the doctrine and spirit of Christianity 
 ought to regulate human conduct, and that 
 conduct must never determine, though some* 
 times it may illustrate our interpretation of the 
 rule. That numbers who attend the theatre do 
 also go to church, and observe various forms of 
 
5$ 
 
 religious duty, is acknowledged. But does this 
 prove the innocence of theatrical amusements ? 
 I have often thought, that some pious individu- 
 als miss their way in appealing to such persons 
 thus, " How can you consistently enjoy the 
 " play, and then retire to your prayers ?" The 
 truth is, the prayers of some people can consist 
 with any thing. Of this we have a striking in- 
 stance in the case of a personage of high rank, 
 from whose private letters, produced in court 
 against him, it appeared, that he could bow his 
 knee in secret, and pray for the partner of his 
 continued guilt ; and who, at the time when de- 
 tected in his crimes, declared, " That he would 
 " take his Bible oath in opposition to the charge" 
 which he expected would be brought against 
 him.* The deceitful snares of the human heart 
 exceed all imagination ; and danger must in- 
 deed be near when that heart becomes its own 
 legislator. 
 
 Another observation is> " If plays contain 
 u dangerous topics and allusions, so does the 
 " Bible ?" Might then every author introduce, 
 Without just cause, such things into his writings^ 
 pleading Scriptural precedent? The poets might 
 as well vindicate some improper parts of their 
 public dialogue from the example of the private 
 medical consultations of physicians and sup- 
 
 * See Remarkable Trials, vol. II. p. 40,— Lond. 1780. 
 
53 
 
 geons. But comic humour will not be found 
 in those portions of the Sacred Scriptures re- 
 ferred to by the objector. Writings ought to 
 be examined with due regard to the spirit and 
 intentions of the writer ; and a halo of the 
 brightest sanctity hangs over every subject of 
 that inestimable Book, when the whole is view- 
 ed in the grand connexion and scope of its 
 parts. Nor were the topics in question design- 
 ed by the inspired writers to be acted on a 
 theatre. If so, I recur to the scale for proof of 
 the absurdity of this objection. 
 
 Again, " If the stage be unsuccessful as to 
 *' usefulness, so is the pulpit." This is by no 
 means owing to any integral part, or native 
 tendency of the Christian system, but princi- 
 pally to that repelling state of the mind which 
 we have already noticed. This cannot be said 
 of the theatre, whose general ministrations we 
 have shewn to be pernicious, and which has re- 
 ceived into its character, if not its essence, the 
 mischievous operation of immoral exhibitions. 
 Besides, the body of a theatrical audience comes 
 not within the % sound of Christianity ; and, 
 therefore, religion has not a fair chance as to 
 such, of demonstrating her power and excel- 
 lence. If, however, it appears that the audience 
 at church or chapel, is more virtuous on the 
 whole than that which attends the theatre, the 
 objection loses much of its point ; and our tri- 
 
 H 
 
54 
 
 umph is complete when the friends of the stage 
 are asked, Where are the unquestioned facts 
 which prove the moral usefulness of your sys- 
 tem ? Where are your converted infidels, your 
 reformed rakes, your improved philanthropists ? 
 Of these Christianity can produce her thousands. 
 It has been shewn that through some tendency 
 or other, a great proportion of moral evil regu- 
 larly emanates, in varying degrees, from the 
 stage. Is it then at all probable that usefulness 
 should issue from the same source ? " Can the 
 " same fountain send forth both sweet waters 
 " and bitter?" On the other hand, the world 
 abounds with the most striking proofs of the 
 practical importance of genuine Christianity. 
 
 " But there are some who, if they go not to 
 " the theatre, will resort to worse places." It 
 is thus a famous advocate in the Scottish me- 
 tropolis has vindicated duelling. He predicts, 
 that its discontinuance would be followed by 
 poisoning and assassination ;* which the reader, 
 I presume, will take to be the essence of the 
 most perfect Jesuitism ; of which a leading 
 maxim is, — the end sanctifies the means. Be- 
 fore the objection can tell upon the understand- 
 ing, the arguments adduced on the evils of the 
 stage must be disproved, and the system shewn 
 
 * See Mr Jeffrey's Address to the Jury on the Trial of 
 Mr Stuart. 
 
55 
 
 to be safe and innocent ; for no degrees ofmo^ 
 ral evil, however small in comparison, can be 
 allowed, though with the direct intention of 
 preventing the greatest crimes. The principle, 
 if pushed, would go to vindicate the brothel, 
 because, by possibility, that scene of wicked- 
 ness might sometimes prevent murder. We ap- 
 peal to the concessions quoted in this Essay, 
 and to many others which might be collected, 
 from the theatrical party; and to the whole 
 history of the stage, as evidence, that the theatre 
 itself is a perfect preparation of the senses and 
 passions for such worse places, and furnishes a 
 path the most direct and opportune to the cham- 
 bers of crime and death. 
 
 Once more : " The stage, like every thing 
 " else, requires discrimination, and they are 
 " persons of a weak mind who are injured 
 " by it. Why, then, because of its abuses, 
 " which are candidly acknowledged, should we 
 " be deprived of this elegant amusement ?" Is 
 not this saying in plain English, " Let the fools 
 "' perish everlastingly, for aught I care ; if my 
 " abstaining from the theatre would save a soul 
 ** of them, I would not abandon this classical 
 * amusement." Most benevolently spoken ! 
 So then a tempting occasion, to say the least ; 
 an occasion of the temporal and eternal ruin of 
 thousands ; an occasion which appears from' 
 its history to have produced a mischievous ef- 
 
 h C Z 
 
66 
 
 feet, more or less, very regularly ; this dreadful 
 occasion, with its consequences, must be perpe- 
 tuated ; and for what ? As the price, forsooth, 
 of an amusement ! Were the stage an institution 
 of essential importance to society, its abuses, it 
 is true, would be no sufficient reason for its dis- 
 continuance. But how mighty is the balance 
 between ruin and amusement! Can the man be 
 found on earth who will affirm, that the advan- 
 tages of the stage decidedly outweigh its mis- 
 chievous consequences ? And, when thus found 
 wanting, can it still find supporters in those 
 who assume the benevolent designation of pa- 
 triot, and of Christian ? Shall a parent allow his 
 infant children to amuse themselves with torches, 
 at the risk of their lives, merely because it is 
 possible they may escape destruction ? And 
 when some of them are burnt to death, shall he 
 permit the others to resume the dangerous 
 amusement ? 
 
 It must be remembered, that the stage is a 
 peculiar entertainment. Immense mischief lies 
 in its compound character. As a composition 
 it owes its existence to the corrupt invention of 
 mankind. Let the parts be dissolved, and se- 
 veral of them will lose much of their destruc- 
 tive power, We condemn not all amusement ; 
 yet if there be any other instance of the kind, 
 which, like the theatre, is perpetually ruinous 
 to multitudes of the souls and bodies of our 
 
57 
 
 countrymen, while its highest character is that 
 of mere amusement, as many of its friends are 
 obliged, though reluctantly to admit, I hesi- 
 tate not to say, that it ought to be abandoned. 
 There is a material difference between the arti- 
 ficial and tempting obtrusiveness of the stage, 
 and multitudes of innocent enjoyments, which 
 nature and Providence have furnished for our 
 recreation. These too, indeed, may be pushed 
 to excess, through the folly of mankind ; the 
 other is doubly calculated to enchant and cor- 
 rupt through its own nature, in connexion with 
 that folly. 
 
 When the stage is opposed, the votaries of 
 amusement seem alarmed for human happiness. 
 A severe wound is inflicted on their feelings of 
 humanity. The pleasures of rational and ani- 
 mated conversation, the interchanges of friend- 
 ship, the charms of reading, the attractions of 
 learning, and the beauties of creation, can by 
 no means afford, in their view of things, a suffi- 
 cient variety and pungency of entertainment. 
 As to Religion, it seems to them as possessing 
 nothing recreative or exhilirating. When its 
 burdensome duties are over, the heart appears 
 to sigh for some dram of re-invigoration from 
 the more stimulating and extraordinary amuse- 
 ments of the world. No medium can suffice. 
 Nature must be put upon her highest mettle ; 
 she must run, and leap, and fly, till recreation 
 
58 
 
 itself is lost in the toils of the chase. Let the 
 theatre be shut, and, with such individuals, it 
 is as if the entire world of wit, and music, and 
 eloquence, were at an end. 
 
 If it should be said, that such remarks are 
 mere colouring ; that a medium is admitted >> 
 and that the above enumeration of innocent 
 delights must be allowed to be more than suffi- 
 cient both for variety and intensity ; I rejoice 
 at the observation* and ask, why then is not 
 the theatre expelled from the group* because 
 of its undeniable and monstrous abuses ? Would 
 the annihilation of this single pleasure be an in- 
 reparable loss ? The objector himself replies 
 no. On the contrary, I think, this annihilation 
 would be an incalculable gain to the health, 
 and wealth, and character, and domestic com- 
 fort of multitudes in different ranks of society. 
 Let common sense, and humanity, and con- 
 science, decide on this one topic of a subject so 
 important* 
 
 We gladly allow the candour of the cotices- 
 sions quoted in this Essay ; but the question is, 
 what is their absolute amount? Do they not 
 prove the existence, in the theatre, of an ex- 
 tended, and organized, and uncorrected, and 
 perpetuated system of immorality? if the 
 stage have its use, let that use be shewn by a 
 plain and rational theory, and by the produc- 
 tion of tangible facts. Should the system be 
 
59 
 
 purified, and rendered serviceable to society, 
 the opposition it receives from the religious 
 world would instantly cease. Let its sting be 
 drawn, and no one would then object occasion- 
 ally to amuse himself by admiring the beauty 
 of its colours, and the gracefulness of its coil. 
 But till this be effected, the innocent and inex- 
 perienced, must be warned not to tread within 
 the scene of its deceptive gambols. 
 
 It has been said, — " That wit and humour 
 " are given to man by a kind Providence, to 
 " mitigate the ills of life." What then ? May 
 not the same be said of multitudes' of sights, 
 and sweets, and scents, and sounds, for the ex- 
 travagant accumulation, and composition, and 
 public participation of which, no theatres are 
 built ? Because the delicacies of the confec- 
 tioner have their appropriate use and pleasure, 
 must we bring them by waggon loads into some 
 immense building, and there assembling by 
 thousands, devour them without measure, to 
 the injury of our health? And all this too, 
 because a beneficent Providence has supplied 
 them ? Finding that it is natural for man to 
 laugh, it would seem we must, in gratitude to 
 the beneficent Author of this faculty, collect in 
 vast multitudes to laugh in concert for three or 
 four hours together ; laugh at impious viola- 
 tions too of the sacredness of His name, and at 
 imitated crimes committed against His " Just, 
 
60 
 
 " and good, and holy law." " But all this is 
 " so natural." And so it is to sail right before 
 the wind ; and to seize, when hunger prompts, 
 the first food that comes in our way, though 
 perhaps it be the property of another as hungry 
 as ourselves. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, in defending the stage, 
 Bpeakt of " Those who entertain," he supposes, 
 " a holy horror of the very name of a theatre ; 
 " and who imagine impiety and blasphemy are 
 " inseparable from the drama. We have no 
 " room left," he adds, " to argue with such 
 " persons ; or we might endeavour to prove, 
 " that the dramatic art is in itself as capable of 
 " being directed either to right or wrong pur- 
 " poses, as the art of printing/'* 
 
 This sarcastic use of the word holy, a term 
 of the most awful significance, as the most in- 
 attentive glance at the moral perfections, and 
 law, and authority of God will demonstrate, is 
 not in the style of decorum so usual and pecu- 
 liar to this admirable writer. Impiety and blas- 
 phemy are high degrees of wickedness, and are 
 not unfrequently the crimes of the theatre ; but 
 no one, I believe, imagines, that they are ne- 
 cessarily blended with the essence of the dra- 
 ma. It does not, however, follow, that inferior 
 degrees of moral evil are by no means interwo- 
 
 * See his Dissertation on the Drama, at the end. 
 
61 
 
 ven with the system. We have already seen, 
 that the living exhibition of undeniable rebel- 
 lion against the Eternal Law-giver is essential 
 to the existing stage. Whether it be possible to 
 purify the system, is perhaps an enquiry which 
 belongs to the facts of the case, rather than to 
 abstract and theoretical conceptions of it. Who 
 will point out the period when the drama was 
 in a state of even tolerable purity ? When the 
 majority of its pieces, of its doctrines, precepts, 
 maxims, characters, accompanying circumstan- 
 ces, and effects, were substantially good and 
 commendable ? To talk of possibilities in a mat- 
 ter of this vast importance, without producing 
 facts, after an experiment of more than two 
 thousand years, is strange indeed ! 
 
 The allusion to printing ought to be justified 
 by evidence that the stage is equally with that 
 inestimable art, essential and important to the 
 interests of society ; otherwise it is of no force, 
 because, supposing the theatre be capable of re- 
 novation, it is actually abused, and that confess- 
 edly by all parties to a considerable extent. As 
 to the declaration — " We have no room left to 
 argue with such persons," — it may be asked, 
 are there no common principles on which they 
 may be met ? Or does the author deem them 
 to be so deeply enthusiastic as to banish all 
 hope of succeeding with them in a rational dis- 
 putation. This is to assume the question ; con- 
 
62 
 
 eluding, that he who is decidedly hostile to the 
 theatre must, of course, be in the wrong. I 
 think this shews, that the author himself is the 
 man with whom there is no room to argue. 
 
 But had he condescended to make the at- 
 tempt ; and had he added unequivocal and for- 
 cible instructions to the body of dramatic ma- 
 nagers and actors, successfully teaching them 
 to effect that reformation which he believes to 
 be so practicable, he would then, as I imagine, 
 have done infinitely more to promote the true 
 happiness of mankind, than is likely to be effected 
 by all the poems, and tales, and antiquarian re- 
 searches he has ever written. These indeed 
 have their amusing effect, their chaste and 
 thrilKng charm ; and what is more, they have 
 some tendency to embue the public mind with 
 sentiments of genuine loyalty ; but viewing the 
 existence of man as running out into a line of 
 interminable duration, — which unfashionable 
 view, our reason assures us, is the only accu- 
 rate admeasurement of his being, — I cannot 
 but regret, that this popular and competent 
 writer has not added to his numerous works, 
 some tract of w^popular, but of super-eminent 
 importance, for the purpose, if possible, of 
 amending the stage ; and of preventing the 
 temporal wretchedness of innumerable families, 
 and the eternal destruction of innumerable 
 souls. But I must stop short. These are 
 
63 
 
 sounds which, with many, are too vulgar and 
 too senseless to excite any other feelings than 
 those of disgust and contempt. This author, 
 with his beautiful tales, will no doubt remain 
 the unquestioned friend of humanity, for he 
 soothes our ills with sports. This poor pam- 
 phlet must expect to be denounced as harsh 
 and misanthropic. 
 
 Suppose the stage to be completely reform- 
 ed, and to continue equally popular,— a thing 
 impossible in a corrupt state of society, — it 
 would then in its fundamental principles he 
 quite another thing compared with the present 
 theatre. This would not be a reformation, but 
 a substitution of one species of system for 
 another. Yet were the pieces pure and good, 
 a reference to the scale, I think, would shew, 
 that the action, the costume, the obtrusive ex- 
 hibition of the female figure, the playfulness of 
 manner inseparable from this description of 
 amusement, would be dangerous, and at per- 
 fect variance with true christian feeling. It 
 does not indeed appear, that amusement ought 
 at all to be the subject of expensive public in- 
 stitutions, and of large public assemblies, regu- 
 larly convened, that they may enter systemati- 
 cally and heartily into the spirit of a jest, or of 
 sensations merely gratifying. This is to lift 
 the thing far above its proper rank in human 
 concerns. It is like erecting a magnificent 
 
 i 2 
 
64 
 
 college with its appropriate statues, and its 
 qualified professors, for cultivating the noble 
 art of entering a drawing-room with peculiar 
 grace. In proportion to this elevation will be 
 the decaying influence of institutions of real 
 and indispensable importance. 
 
 " But has not the drama its deep and beau- 
 "tiful principles; is it not founded in nature; 
 " partaking of the genuine character of truth and 
 " science ?" It is no doubt curious, that while 
 sympathy in real life has much of pain connect- 
 ed with it, a similar sympathy produced by 
 fiction should impart un mingled pleasure. Mr 
 Hume accounts for this from the predominant 
 impression ; an impression made by the perfect 
 oratory of the details, which is extremely de- 
 lightful, and imparts its own sweetness to such 
 other species of the general feeling as would, 
 separate from this magic, be distressing. But 
 this is a corrupt application of an excellent law 
 of nature. Who sees not, that predominant 
 impressions may be greatly abused? What 
 right have we to sweeten sin ? It is according 
 to another admirable law of nature, that the 
 cupidity of the miser increases with his years ; 
 for we naturally grasp a valued possession in 
 proportion as we perceive that we are likely 
 soon to lose it. But who would say that covet- 
 ousness is therefore a beautiful science ? Im- 
 mense mischief may be produced by the grand 
 impression of tragedy. With regard to come- 
 
65 
 
 dy, as Rousseau has observed, the pleasure of 
 it is usually founded in the vices of the human 
 heart. 
 
 Our author's conception of a reformed stage 
 may be partly gathered from his remarks in the 
 Dissertation, on some popular dramatic pieces,. 
 The applause he gives to Mr Maturin must 
 be founded on Bertram. And John Bull is 
 praised as one of the best and most perfect 
 productions of its kind. Did the limits of this 
 Inquiry permit, it would be easy to shew, how 
 far these two dramas are from comporting with 
 christian principles, and with that christian 
 temper and spirit which ought even to pervade 
 our recreations. We confidently refer the se- 
 rious observer to make the analysis and com- 
 parison for himself. As to the first, what pious 
 mind can fail to be distressed at its hostility to 
 the christian religion, the viciousness of its 
 characters, and its outrage on dramatic justice ? 
 So much at least for an imagined reformation 
 of the stage. 
 
 It has frequently been urged with a strange 
 kind of triumph, — " Point out a single text of 
 " Scripture which expressly prohibits the a- 
 " musement of the stage?" In our turn we 
 ask, — show us the text that expressly prohibits 
 the negro-slavery of the West Indies ? Had all 
 fche actual shapes and forms in which it is possi- 
 ble for the elemental principles of wickedness 
 
66 
 
 to unfold themselves, been distinctly noticed by 
 the inspired writers, the effect would have been 
 weakened, — the Bible would have been a work 
 of more immense size than the statute book of 
 England. But if the spirit and design of the 
 Scriptures; and the inferences which may be 
 rationally deduced from them as premises, are 
 in direct opposition to the existing theatre, it 
 will then be an amusement decidedly unlawful. 
 This is freely conceded by the advocates of the 
 stage. Now I leave the reader to determine, 
 whether, from experience, observation, and the 
 arguments here offered to the public, it does 
 not appear, that the general strain and temper 
 of theatrical amusements is completely hostile 
 to the holiness, — the devotion, — the continual- 
 ly subduing sense of the presence and majesty 
 of God, — the awful apprehension of eternity, — 
 and the extremely sensitive character of the 
 moral conscience ; which, Christianity, not on- 
 ly from its precepts, but from the dreadful and 
 momentous grandeur of its arrangements, loudly 
 demands ? 
 
 This solemn state of the mind will never in- 
 terfere with the joyous character of legitimate 
 recreation ; but will perfectly coincide with it ; 
 as the great law of gravitation, while it rests the 
 universe upon its basis, never interrupts the 
 more sprightly exhibitions of light and beauty, 
 as witnessed in the dancing clouds, and in all 
 
67 
 
 the varied decorations of a summer scene ; but 
 receives them into its own harmonies, and gives 
 them poise and temperance. Let such funda- 
 mental laws, however, be counteracted by some 
 electrical accumulation, or vacuum ; or by re- 
 moving the foundations of some massive pile, 
 and they will rise in fearful power to assert 
 their own unalienable sovereignty. Thus let 
 the man who has been in elevated communion 
 with his God, and with the worlds of eternity, 
 come forth from the sanctuary of his retirement. 
 Is he now unfitted for the business of this life? Is 
 he unsuited in his spirit for the banquet, where 
 well selected guests, of kindred disposition with 
 his own, enjoy " the Feast of reason and the 
 " flow of soul ;" or for any of the numerous 
 enjoyments which God himself has evidently 
 furnished to soothe our passage to the grave ? 
 We repel the charge of ascetic sullenness and 
 gloom, and exclaim, he is not. Let him deli- 
 berately pass from the throne of heaven to the 
 theatre, and attend upon the shocking violations 
 of Christian doctrine and piety exhibited, for 
 instance, in Bertram, or Pizarro, or the Stranger, 
 (plays of high popularity, and consequently 
 proper specimens of the whole,) and will these 
 two systems of general feeling shew no signs of 
 mutual revulsion ; of vehement disruption, of 
 the one from the other ? 
 
 Again, will any one deny, that those great 
 
68 
 
 and numerous evils of the theatre, which are 
 specifically acknowledged in the foregoing quo- 
 tations from its friends, are condemned by the 
 most express letter of the Scriptures ? What ! 
 is there no text against familiarizing whole au- 
 diences with vice ; expressing rank obscenity, 
 or, in its absence, the more delicate, but more 
 destructive double meaning, before a promiscu- 
 ous public ? &c. &c. The recollection of the 
 reader will furnish him with the remainder of 
 these sad concessions. 
 
 V. Of the Argument drawn from Authority. 
 
 Among great numbers who have recorded to 
 posterity their decided opposition to the stage, 
 as, in its general character, an evil of great mag- 
 nitude, are the following : — 
 
 Of Pagans, — Socrates, Plato, Xenophon, 
 Solon, Isocrates, Plutarch, Cicero, Livy, 
 Valerius Maximus, Seneca, Propertius, Ovid, 
 and Tacitus. 
 
 Of States and Sovereigns, — Themistocles, 
 the Lacedemonians, the Massilians, the Ro- 
 mans, Augustus, Nero, M. A. Antoninus, 
 Constantine the Great, Julian the Apostate, 
 Theodosius the Great, Valentinian, Gratian, 
 and Valens. 
 
 Scipio Nasica, termed the high priest of Ro- 
 
69 
 
 man virtue, prevailed with the Senate to forbid 
 the building of a theatre at Rome, as a corrup- 
 tion from the Greeks, injurious to the antient 
 morality, and more destructive to the state than 
 Carthage. * 
 
 Of Christian Councils, — those of Laodicea, 
 Carthage, Eliberis, Collioure, Arles, Nice, 
 Hippo, Paris, and the Lateran Council ; as 
 also the Synodus Turconensis, the Synodus 
 Lingonensis, and the Synod at Rochet. 
 
 Of the Fathers, — Tertullian, Clemens 
 Alexandrinus, St. Cyprian, St. Augustine, 
 St. Cyril, St. Chrysostom, St. Jerome, St. 
 Isidore ; Archbishops Bradwardine, Parker, 
 Usher, Tillotson, and Secker ; Bishops Al- 
 ley, Babington, Kennet, Andrews, Barclay, 
 Stillingfleet, and Hall ; Doctors Reynolds, 
 Griffith, Williams, Elton, Sparks, White, 
 Bond, and Blair ; Judges Bulstrode, and 
 Lord Chief Justice Hale ; the Rev. Messrs 
 Venn, Cunningham, Milner, and Gisborne ; 
 Mr Wilberforce, &c. &c. &c. 
 
 Such is the phalanx of authorities drawn out 
 against the stage. Now, I challenge the whole 
 theatrical world, to produce an equal number of 
 authorities, possessed of equal fame in their re- 
 spective professions, equally capable of deciding 
 on moral questions ; and who have left, on 
 
 * Be Chit. Dei, Lib. 1. cap. 30. 
 K 
 
70 
 
 known record, testimonies equally clear and 
 strong, all in favour of that which is the grand 
 point at issue, — the moral tendency of the stage. 
 I will venture to affirm, that no such army, dis- 
 played in this precise manner, (and the argu- 
 ment demands this precision), can possibly be 
 produced. 
 
 But I shall be told, that some of these per- 
 sons have actually written in approbation of the 
 stage. If their writings on this subject con- 
 tradict themselves, that is not our fault ; and 
 the champion of the theatre is at liberty, in 
 drawing up his list of heroes, to take full ad- 
 vantage of this circumstance. The testimonies 
 opposed to the stage are ready to be produced ; 
 and pretty strong ones they are, I can assure 
 him, if he knows it not already. He must give 
 me leave, however, to take the same liberty with 
 his men. For I suspect he will lay a bold claim 
 to Milton, Addison, Johnson, &c. whom we 
 shall find, when considered with due interpre- 
 tation, to be substantially, though not entirely 
 on our side of the question. 
 
 Milton speaks, indeed, of the moral proper- 
 ties of tragedy ; but he expressly confines his 
 panegyric to the tragedy of the antients. Ad- 
 dison lamented the immorality of the stage ; 
 and Dr Johnson is well known to have express- 
 ed, though inconsistently, his abhorrence of the 
 green room, and his contempt for the players. 
 
71 
 
 These great authors were persons of the finest 
 literary taste, which no doubt decoyed them in- 
 to sentiments of undue attachment to the drama. 
 It is true, they were moralists; but whether 
 from their printed works, and more especially 
 from their private lives, we may boldly infer, 
 that they possessed a scriptural, profound, and 
 uniform piety, without which every man, be his 
 learning what it may, is so far unqualified to 
 become an authority on this question, I leave 
 the public to judge. Besides, let their drama- 
 tic publications be considered, and I ask, had 
 all other plays been equally pure in point of 
 morals, what would have been the probable 
 condition of the theatre ? What support would 
 it have found? Would it now have had an ex- 
 istence ? 
 
 It is said that St Chrysostom used to sleep 
 with the works of Aristophanes under his pil- 
 low. But does this neutralize his eloquent op- 
 position to the public acting of such plays ? 
 Must all who read Horace approve of hearing 
 his improprieties pronounced upon a stage be- 
 fore a promiscuous multitude ? Nor is the au- 
 thority of Plato destroyed by his opposition to 
 poetry ; for he did not object to it as such, but 
 on moral grounds connected with it. He ex- 
 pressly allows of hymns to the Deity.* 
 
 * See Vives on St Aug, 
 K 2 
 
72 
 
 As to the authority of certain persons of 
 eminence in the Church of England, who have 
 patronized the stage, I have only to request, 
 that it he fairly balanced with that of others in 
 the same church. If we keep within the limits 
 of eminence in writing, we might confidently 
 boast as to numbers. But when we come to 
 that particular kind of weight which the case 
 requires, I am satisfied the theatrical scale will 
 be found greatly wanting. For instance, 
 Bishops Hurd and Warburton appear, from 
 the general character of their writings, to have 
 made letters their profession ; and studies prac- 
 tically religious, (I speak merely as to author- 
 ship), occupied a very subordinate place in 
 their consideration. On the contrary, Arch- 
 bishop Tillotson, Bishops Babington, An- 
 drews, and Hall, demonstrate by their works, 
 that to impress religion immediately on the 
 hearts and consciences of men was their pro- 
 fession ; and literature, as such, was evidently, 
 with them, an inferior subject of pursuit and 
 of enjoyment. Now, which of these two class- 
 es should we chuse to be umpire on a point of 
 moral casuistry ? 
 
 It will again be replied, that the Fathers pro- 
 tested only against the scandalous pantomimes 
 of the Pagans. There was indeed a distinction 
 between them and the regular drama ; and St. 
 Augustine mentions in one place, that the best 
 
73 
 
 and most tolerable of stage plays were tragedy 
 and comedy, which he calls poetic fables ; bat 
 even to such, under the express names of poetic 
 fables and comedies, he frequently, and decided- 
 ly, objects. Sir Walter Scott allows, that 
 they were subject to the same sweeping con- 
 demnation with the public shows, because act- 
 ed in the same place, and by the same perform- 
 ers. He thinks, however, they were unjustly 
 so condemned. And certainly if the regular 
 drama was so innocent and useful as many of 
 the moderns suppose, it is somewhat strange, 
 that neither the Fathers, nor the Councils of 
 the Church, had the honesty to except them 
 from the general censure. Their perpetual aim 
 was not the reformation but destruction of 
 the theatre. I am inclined to believe that the 
 Christians conscientiously condemned the 'whole. 
 That they were really condemned, is acknow- 
 ledged by another great friend of the theatre, 
 who asserts, that the Fathers re-barbarized Eu- 
 rope by their opposition to the stage ; which 
 must of course be meant of tragedy and come- 
 dy, and not of wicked pantomimes.* St. Cy- 
 prian abominates the theatre because of the in- 
 decent interchange of the dress of the sexes. 
 And does not this exist on the present stage? 
 The question comes to this : the Fathers either 
 
 * See Annual Review on Styles on the Stage. 
 
74 
 
 did, or did not condemn the regular drama, as 
 well as the common shows. Let those who as- 
 sert, that they did not, prove the position by 
 plain historic testimony. If they did, then 
 it only remains for the advocates of the stage 
 to detract, if possible, from the weight of such 
 existing authority. 
 
 Is it probable the Fathers would have allow- 
 ed the modern theatre? And w r as it not against 
 the regular drama, that the Fathers of our Bri- 
 tish Reformation, from Archbishop Parker 
 downwards, have protested ? When such an 
 army of distinguished Christians, the legiti- 
 mate expounders of the faith, throughout a 
 long line of ages, have strongly opposed the 
 stage, it will be thought good presumptive evi- 
 dence at least, that Christianity herself is its firm 
 and changeless foe : " Christianity" Sir Wal- 
 ter Scott observes, "from its first origin, was 
 " inimical to the institution of the theatre." 
 And such are the men, Legislators, Philoso- 
 phers, and Fathers, who, if they lived again, to 
 lift up their voice against the theatre, would be 
 denounced as creatures of a weak mind, fanatics, 
 and hypocrites ! But we rest not the cause on 
 names. Even Euclid is no infallible authority 
 for the result of a problem, apart from the pro- 
 cess by which its truth is worked out. We re- 
 cur to the arguments which directly relate to 
 the nature and effects of the system itself. 
 
15 
 
 Suppose there be no Scripture text, is there 
 not some Scripture case, plainly applicable to 
 the subject ? Let us make the enquiry. 
 
 The theatre has given great scandal and of- 
 fence to a large proportion of the christian 
 world, for nearly eighteen hundred years. Sup- 
 pose we allow, that, on this subject, such per- 
 sons have been tinctured with enthusiasm - y 
 thousands of them have yet been characters of 
 undeniable talents, and learning, and piety. 
 The friends of the stage, who sometimes blame 
 their opponents for contracted and uncharitable 
 sentiments, it is hoped will not imitate their 
 bigotry, denying the christian name to all who 
 sin against the theatre. Observe again, that 
 this amusement is not pretended to be essential 
 and indispensable to the happiness of society. 
 Indeed, if it were so, what would become of 
 multitudes of persons who never see a theatre; 
 for instance, the whole of the agricultural 
 classes of this, and other countries? 
 
 Now, suppose the learned apostle of the 
 Gentiles lived amongst us ; and, from an ex- 
 quisite taste for. the beauties of dramatic po- 
 etry, should approve of the stage as an inno- 
 cent amusement ; still, what would probably 
 be his sentiments on the subject of offence ? 
 Would he, who said, " If meat make my bro- 
 " ther to offend, I will eat no flesh while the 
 " world standeth ;" would he insist on the 
 
76 
 
 propriety of continuing the theatre, although 
 it should occasion grief and displeasure to many 
 thousands of his christian brethren ? 
 
 But I am told, that this is not the meaning 
 of the case; that by causing a brother to of- 
 fend, is understood to signify, the occasioning 
 his fall into sin, by means of an example strict- 
 ly good in itself, though not absolutely neces- 
 sary ; but which, through weakness, he per- 
 verts to his own destruction. I admit the in- 
 terpretation ; and will here apply it to the the- 
 atre with undemurring confidence. 
 
 Now it is expressly declared by the advocates 
 of the stage, that its evil consequences have ari- 
 sen chiefly from the peculiar intellectual and mo- 
 ral weakness of individuals. To patronize the 
 drama is to perpetuate such consequences ; for 
 persons of this character, attending on the the- 
 atre, are by no means few in number. Again, 
 there are multitudes, as has already been ob- 
 served, who, though they feel convinced that 
 this amusement is dangerous and unlawful, yet 
 allow themselves to be drawn into its vortex, 
 not merely by the attraction of its pleasures, 
 but also by the authority of eminent examples. 
 Thus they attempt at least to lower the voice of 
 conscience. Here then„ though iunocence be 
 allowed to the patron, so far as he is conscious 
 that the stage is not in its own nature sinful ; 
 it is not always so with the man who follows in 
 
77 
 
 his footsteps. But will it be imagined, that St 
 Paul, whose feelings were so sensitive on the 
 subject of occasioning the ruin of his weak bre- 
 thren by the lawful use of flesh, which had been 
 offered to an idol, supposing he asserted the 
 innocence of the theatre, would countenance 
 the stage in person, with the knowledge, that 
 such patronage might be destructive to the 
 souls of thousands; and all to promote his own 
 amusement ? Would this accord with his casu- 
 istry and example in the case just referred to? 
 
 To conclude this topic : for my own part, I 
 am satisfied, that there are several texts of 
 Scripture directly at issue with every thing 
 which bears the unquestioned characters of the 
 existing stage. Of these I will only mention 
 the commencing verses of the first Psalm,* and 
 Ep. v, 3, 4.t 
 
 Let these passages be examined, not as 
 they appear in words, but as severally em- 
 bodied in the living character, and as deeply 
 imbuing the whole man ; and, I doubt not, 
 
 * Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of 
 the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth 
 in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of 
 the Lord, and in his law doth he meditate day and night. 
 
 f But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, 
 let it not once be named amongst you, as becometh saints: 
 Neither filthiness, nor foolish talking, nor jesting, which are 
 not convenient : but rather giving of thanks. 
 
 L 
 
78 
 
 fhey will be found completely hostile to the 
 theatre. And if this be denied, because the 
 text does not specify this amusement in parti- 
 cular; I shall expect, in the next place, to find, 
 that the most abandoned sinners are agreed to 
 evade all Scripture sketches of their own moral 
 likeness, merely because their proper names are 
 not legibly appended to them, 
 
 VI. Farther Remarks on the Pretensions of the 
 Stage. Conclusion. 
 
 It must be observed, that this discussion re- 
 lates to the moral question of the theatre, and 
 not to its literature simply considered. The 
 dramatic form of writing, not of acting, may be 
 employed with good effect, as is evident from 
 the splendid productions of Millman. Nor 
 can it be denied, that the ancient drama in 
 particular, is, to some extent, a repository of 
 fine learning, and of fine taste : a vehicle of 
 poetic genius of the highest class, and a source 
 of intellectual refinement and pleasure to minds 
 of a certain description. But may not all this 
 be said of the heathen mythology in general ? 
 Yet who would rebuild its temples, and act its 
 vile and monstrous mysteries? The sublimities 
 of learning, and the charms of literature, when 
 connected with improper subjects, form a dan- 
 
79 
 
 gerous temptation. Where the moral sensibility 
 of the character is at all obtunded, in the same 
 proportion, this temptation will effectually exert 
 the magic of its power. If the depraved mind 
 can sometimes be led to traverse the entire 
 field of Sacred Truth, merely from the attrac- 
 tion of its intellectual beauties, what mighty 
 force may not be expected to storm the soul, 
 when such attraction is joined with sentiments 
 congenial to every sinful propensity of the 
 heart ? Nor can it be surprising if, in our pre- 
 sent state of moral frailty, this bewildering light 
 should occasionally deceive the unwariness of 
 good men themselves. This only proves how 
 seductive are the finer and more unexceptiona- 
 ble pleasures of the theatre. Still the system 
 seems incapable of renovation, at least of such 
 improvement as to render it safe and proper for 
 the populace at large. 
 
 It has been judged, that if genteel people 
 will and must have this classical amusement, 
 they ought to have their own private theatres, 
 where, as at the opera, the multitude may be 
 excluded from witnessing such scenes as are 
 too powerful for their minds. In these private 
 theatres, people of fashion, it is thought, might 
 still assemble to behold each other ; as, with 
 such, cum dignitate is frequently the chief joy 
 of the theatre. Who would not sparkle in the 
 box, and vie with the fairest ? For birds of 
 
 l % 
 
80 
 
 spirit always love to sing upon the topmost 
 bough. And there the roarings of a popular 
 audience might be avoided, — an audience which 
 sometimes resembles, not a company of amiable 
 beings, endued with reason and decency, but 
 the monstrous personage of Madness, in the 
 Hercules Furens of Eurtpides, appearing in her 
 aerial car with a hundred heads, round which 
 hiss a thousand serpents. An amusement this, 
 much to be enjoyed by people of wisdom and 
 taste ! — Such private theatres, it is true, would 
 be lessening the evil ; but would they amount 
 to a perfect cure ? 
 
 What a shocking picture of the evils connect- 
 ed with the London stage is drawn by Sir 
 Walter Scott at the close of his Dissertation ! 
 And what is the language with which he con- 
 cludes it? " We notice these evils, without pre- 
 " tending to point out the remedy" Alas, for the 
 British theatre, when its best friends are incom- 
 petent to devise a cure for its worst evils ! Had 
 a cure been possible, I presume this chaste and 
 candid writer would have been happy to pro- 
 pose it. He does, indeed, observe, that the 
 immense size of the London theatres increases 
 the abomination ; but we respectfully refer him 
 to the ratio of the same evils in the smaller 
 theatres out of London, for proof, that the 
 poison is not to be allayed ; is only to be resist- 
 ed by its annihilation. Till this be accomplish- 
 
81 
 
 ed, the quantity may be reduced, the quality 
 will always be the same. 
 
 If, after all, it shall again be asserted, " That 
 " the theatre is the best school for polishing and 
 " improving the manners of a people," I can- 
 not but express some wonder, that, supposing 
 this to be correct, it has not received its origin 
 nd chief sanction from divine authority; for, 
 admitting this eulogium, its cast of popularity, 
 i connexion with its moral tendency, lifts it 
 r above the common schools ; and in some 
 acts above Christianity itself, and many 
 r institutions employed for the improve- 
 >it of mankind. Though they have been 
 fitted, it would seem the theatre might have 
 en expected to hold a distinguished place, in 
 the appointments and regulations of the Sacred 
 Book. But where is the divine commission for 
 players to set up for public teachers of morality ? 
 The honour of this grand invention was reserved 
 for a company of rude peasants, who, sacrificing 
 a goat to Bacchus, sang a drinking song to his 
 praise, — -a song which was occasionally relieved 
 by a talking interlocutor, and the whole set off 
 by the striking faces of the actors, which were 
 besmeared with the lees of wine. Hence, ac- 
 cording to some critics, Tj>yy«c, wine lees, gives 
 name to tragedy ; and ko^hv, to be saucy, or to 
 revel, gives denomination to comedy. I think 
 the Fathers did not reason justly in objecting 
 
to the theatre, merely on account of its heathen 
 origin ; because, if the stage were intrinsically 
 icood, this could be of no force ; but so far as 
 this origin and this denomination serve to point 
 out the nature of the thing, the argument is, no 
 doubt, strongly subversive of the moral preten- 
 sions of the drama. — There is no trace of the 
 buskin to be found in any part of the Jewish 
 history, before the dispersion, as appears from 
 the elaborate work of Lewis on the Jewish An- 
 tiquities, 
 
 I also feel surprised at the practice of con- 
 temning the profession of a player, — a profes- 
 sion deemed so excellent. I say the profes- 
 sion ; for as to individuals, we shall find some 
 in all situations unworthy of approbation. But, 
 that Christians have agreed to despise the sacred 
 ministry, because it is occasionally tarnished by 
 misconduct, is by no means true in fact. The 
 very indignation and sorrow which they some- 
 times express at the crimes of a minister, are a 
 proof of the contrary. The same crimes in a 
 player excite no surprise, no particular disgust ; 
 still the friends of the theatre agree to scowl at 
 the profession. Here is manifest inconsistency. 
 It seems as if immorality in a player were ex- 
 pected to result from his profession j for Vol- 
 taire informs us, that a man, to be a good ac- 
 tor, must have the very Devil in him ; still the 
 profession is asserted to be good, and still it is 
 
83 
 
 despised. How the truth eludes us here, like 
 the shiftings of the ghost in Hamlet 1 
 
 Greece was the principal exception to this 
 general contempt for players, which is thus ac- 
 counted for by St Augustine, that the Greeks 
 happened to look upon them as the servants of 
 the gods, and chiefly for this reason gave them 
 honour. The Romans maintained a different 
 view, and detested them. Sir Walter Scott, 
 however, very properly complains of the evi- 
 dent injustice of allowing and applauding play- 
 ers, and yet despising their profession and their 
 persons. Whether some secret misgivings as to 
 the professed excellence of the system itself be 
 not at the bottom of this, we leave to the judge- 
 ment of the impartial observer. 
 
 That the morality of this world, — principles 
 of honour, — an amiable disposition, — and re- 
 spectability of life and conduct, — is sometimes 
 to be found among them, ought not in candour 
 to be questioned; but is it not somewhat re- 
 markable, that not a single actor, of eminence in 
 piety, appears to have existed since the world 
 began ? Other professions are not thus barren 
 of the nobler productions of Christianity, as the 
 most effectual means of forming the character 
 to high degrees of excellence. Biography pre- 
 sents us with the lives of soldiers, of lawyers, 
 &c. who have been illustrious ornaments to the 
 Christian name ; while we shall absolutely look 
 
84 
 
 in vain for a solitary instance of a player, who, 
 supposing him to have felt the renovating pow- 
 er of religion, made it known to the world by 
 those peculiar indications which clearly distin- 
 guish it, in every case of eminence, from the 
 godlesr morality of the infidel. This is the 
 more extraordinary, as men of great research, 
 when complaining of their frequent want of 
 success in seeking to discover memoirs of the 
 lives of biblical critics, and others of much 
 worth and fame, have observed, that they were 
 seldom at a loss to meet with the history of ce- 
 lebrated actors.* 
 
 We may observe, that an advocate of the 
 stage, evidently a person of talents and can- 
 dour, has just acknowledged to the world, that, 
 " As a whole, the character of our actors is in- 
 " finitely beyond the morality of our theatre" 't 
 Let those lovers of the drama who have an ex- 
 tensive knowledge of performers, mark well this 
 declaration. It involves a contest to determine, 
 between the professors of the art, and the cause 
 itself, which is least immoral and pernicious ? 
 Let us reason from the well-known facts of the 
 lives of the actors. Is the system to be prefer- 
 red ? Then how feeble must be its corrective 
 
 * See the Preface to Townley's Illustrations of Biblical 
 Literature. 
 
 \ See New Monthly Magazine, No. XXXI. page 32. 
 
85 
 
 power, when those at the fountain head of its in- 
 fluence remain, as a body, confirmed in immora- 
 lity? Arc! what must be its nature and pro- 
 perties, when multitudes of individuals of well- 
 known wicked habits can take such pleasure in 
 it, ard with the liveliest relish, adopt it as the 
 chief employment of their intellectual powers, 
 and Hie ? Eat if this point must be determined 
 in favour of the pi'ofession, I ask, in the name 
 of wonder, what then must the system be ? 
 
 It is observable, that when a player becomes 
 indisputably pious, and forsakes his former evil 
 courses, he instantly abandons his profession. 
 To say that this alone proves him to be an ar- 
 rant enthusiast, not only wears the colour of 
 illiberality ; it also assumes the question as al- 
 ready settled, and as indeed itself a fixed prin- 
 ciple on which the theatre may be boldly de- 
 fended. This may be dispatch in argument, 
 but is it logic ? 
 
 I wonder at another thing, and it is this, — 
 that with all the magnified importance of the 
 theatre, as a moral institution, we never see, in 
 books on education, any directions to send a 
 loose and disobedient youth, or a proud or un- 
 chaste daughter, to the play-house, as a school 
 of reformation. Nor do we hear from the lips 
 of the aged and the experienced, (I refer to the 
 friends of the theatre), the smallest counsel to 
 this effect. Let those split this hair who can. 
 
 M 
 
86 
 
 I will now relieve the reader from the tedium 
 of this Essay, and plead for its length the extent 
 and importance of the subject. In the attempt 
 to omit no capital consideration belonging to a 
 controversy on which many volumes have been 
 written, it will not be surprising if, to persons 
 unacquainted with this copiousness, the argu- 
 ment has seemed to be lengthened out beyond 
 the necessities of the case. Others, I doubt not, 
 will deem the whole to be sufficiently concise. 
 
 The friends of the theatre will, perhaps, be 
 under no alarm at the tactics here employed. 
 We have assailed them, it is hoped, by the 
 weapons of reason ; they, however, lie en- 
 trenched in the stronger holds of passion. 
 Some enquire not respecting any rational or 
 moral ground of attachment to the theatre; 
 and refusing to dispute the question, give rein 
 to their propensities, regardless of the conse- 
 quences. Others struggle for a time in argu- 
 ment, hopeful of a conquest, and close with the 
 free avowal of their fixed fondness for the dra- 
 ma ; and what reply can be made to him who, 
 collecting his whole strength, by one grand 
 burst of resistance, confounds you with — / like 
 it I Yet all are not so insensible to the mandates 
 of reason ; and if only one parental pair should 
 be reclaimed from their love of this dangerous 
 pastime, by means of the arguments now offer- 
 ed to the public, the good effects even of this 
 
87 
 
 partial reformation may be felt in the line of 
 such a family for ages to come. A result like 
 this, though much beneath the notice of his 
 opponents, would be a noble satisfaction to the 
 writer, who indeed is happy to learn that al- 
 ready this attempt has produced in some quar- 
 ters a salutary impression. It is not pretended, 
 that these pages are exempt from fault, written 
 hastily, as they were, amidst a press of higher 
 duties. The reasons in some instances may 
 have their weaker parts ; but, I throw myself 
 into the centre of their collective strength ; and 
 if, on the approach of the foe, the whole should 
 give way, still I shall fall without shame, and 
 in the cause, too, of my country, being entirely 
 conscious of the rectitude of my purposes. 
 
 I would anxiously attempt, borne out by the 
 principles adduced in this discussion, to rouse 
 my beloved countrymen to a deeper abhorrence 
 of an evil, which is, as I conceive, incalculably 
 mischievous to the morals of society. I would 
 use the whole force of a legitimate and fearless 
 influence in opposition to its destructive sway. 
 I would call ori British parents, by the tenderest 
 yearnings of their affectionate solicitudes, and 
 by the infinite importance of conferring an un- 
 tainted education on the imperishable minds of 
 their offspring, the culpable neglect of which is 
 a cruelty not equalled by that of such mothers 
 of antiquity as threw their children into a 
 
 M 2 
 
88 
 
 quenchable fire to Moloch ; I would call on 
 persons of rank and opulence, by the awful re- 
 sponsibility of their situation, providentially de- 
 signed to give shape and tone to the morals of 
 multitudes below them ; on the magistrates of 
 the land, by the inestimable consequence of 
 their personal example, even where they can- 
 not legally exterminate an evil ; on the sacred 
 ministers of religion, by the sanctity of their 
 office, which binds them to oppose the whole 
 breadth of its authority and power against every 
 system which stands, like that of the theatre, 
 so confessedly the pandar of iniquity ; on all 
 these highly valued and respected classes of 
 our extended and endeared population — I would 
 call, as with the voice of a trumpet, beseeching 
 them to revive in their minds a burning sense 
 of the domestic and national, but, above all, of 
 the eternal importance of the subject ; and ani- 
 mating them to summon their respective forces 
 to the field, and to fight against this citadel of 
 vice with persevering unanimity and energy, 
 till, by the help and benediction of Omnipo- 
 tence, its foundations should tremble at their 
 resistless attacks, and angels respond to shouts 
 of victory mingling with the crash of its final 
 demolition. 
 
 NEWCASTLE : PRINTED BY EDW. WALKER. 
 
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MAY 15 
 
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