Digitized by tine Internet Arciiive in 2008 witin funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/freetliouglitsuponOOmansricli FREE THOUGHTS UPON METHODISTS, ACTORS, AND THE INFLUENCE OF THE STAGE; WITH AN ' ^ , Introdiicton/ Letter to Mrs, , * Of Castle, GLAMORGANSHIRE, Upon the Origin of the DRAMA, &c. kc. &c. By ROBERT MANSEL, Of the Theatres Royal York and Hull, LIKEWISE, A DISCOURSE ox THE Lawfulness and Unlawfulness of Plai/s; WRITTEN BY THE LEARNED FATHER CAFFARO, DIVINITY PROFESSOR AT PARIS. •* Judge not according to the appearance, but judge righteous judgrmenf." John vii. -24. "Ye are they which justify yourselves before men; but God knoweth vour hearts: for that which is highly esteemed among meu, is abomination. In the sight of God." LvKBXvl. 13. HULL: PRINTED FOR THE AUTHOR, AND J. CRAGGS ; AND SOL» BY LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORU£, AND BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW, LONDON} AND WILSON AND SON, YORK. 1814. WILLIAM ROSS, PRINTER, BOWLALLE\-LANB, HULL. sx TO THE PUBLIC, The following subscription originated with some friends of Mr, ManseU toho toished to secure him from the possibility of sustaining a pecuniary loss. At the same time, in compli* ment to his feelings^ they declined attempting by personal application or solicitation to swell the list beyond the end designed. This friendly and delicate mode of promoting his interest^ without compromising his honour, claims his loarviest gratitude, and will, at once, explain the cause of the tcork^s appearing with such aid, and account for the paucity of th€ nutnherst Ta tho9% 10AO h(kv% ftt^mnd him with tht^ir as$Ut(tnce, and voluntary iupparts to nvcompUih the object proposed, ho tenders hia sincere thanks, Jh is convinced by their coming forward unsolicited, that they will appreciate the value of grateful acknowledgments from a man too proud to beg, and too just to receive a favour with silence and indifference, lie is aware that many of his brother performers (particularly those Kith whom he has had the pleasure of associating) Kill be surprised, if not hurt, at the apparent neglect which has been evinced towards them, in not being apprised of his intention to publish by subscription. In his own defence, he can only state, that it teas his original purpose to have forwarded a prospectus to €very_ A2 8S9186 IT theatrical community in the united Jcingdomy and hi had determined upon addressing them by letter^ through the medium either of the managers]or their deputies t and thus have put it in the power of the individuals to give, or to uiith* hold the sanction of their names. In conformity with thit plan, fioe advertising Utters were despatched. His professional pursuits^ and other avocations^ prevented his accomplishing the whole scheme at one time. A few weeks escaped^ and he began to suspect he had been guilty of an impertinence. Six mouths have now elapsed^ and three of his letters out of the five remain unansvcered, unnoticed t Thir painful experience prevented him from running th* ^chance of being again wounded by silent hints of rebttke. To the other two gentlemen,, {Mr. liobertsont the manager of thi Sheffield company^ and Mr. Fitzgerald, the acting manager at Norwich) Mr. M. considers himself highly indebted^ not only for the promptitude of ihdr tepUti^ but for the friendly interest they exprtased for hfi succesi through life, T0 Mr. Matthews, of Covent-Qardenj he f^eh much obliged for the facility with which hefurnishtdMr, M, with the correctioni and additions to the instances of longevity given in pegs I53» To the subscribers in general, he once more offers his ncknowledgments ; should the tnsuing sheets be found i» possess any claim to public approbation, he is convinced they will congratulate themselves for the assistance they have furnished. Should the work be found unworthy of support^ he will congratulate himself that the contributions were not extended. Hull, March 1, 1814. LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. A. Peter Acklom, Esq. Mrs. Acklom Mr. T. Agar, York Doctor Alderson, IIuU Captain Arnold, Royal Engineers, Mr. Armstrong Aston, Manchester James Atkinson, York B. Joseph Baker, Esq. Milford Lodge Mr. James Barber, York : John Bell, Hull — — Bellamy, Theatre Royal, Norwich Bennett, Ditto, Ditto John Benson, York H.AV. Betty William Beverley, Esq. Mr. James Bielby, York • James Birch, Hatjield Miss Bisby, Doncaster Mr. John Bolton, York B. H. Bright, Esq. Manchester John Britton, Esq. F. S. A. Mr. Brook, jun, Doncaster T. Brook, York Bromley, Theatre-Royal, Norwich Thomas Brown, Ganstead C. Mr. H. Cautley, 3 copies, York Carter, Theatre, Sheffield Captain Carpenter, Garrison, Hull Major General Cheney, 3 copies. Miss Cherry, Theatre Royal, Normch Mr. C. P. Clayton, York A3 LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. Captain Clarke, Royal Marines Mr. \y. Clifford, Theatre-Royal, Norwich < J. Colbeck, jun. Doncaster George Coulson, Esq. Hull Mr. William Craggs, Ditto J. Crosse, Esq. Ditto D. Mr. Dickenson, Drijieid Dunn, Ditto E. Mr. Elston, Theatre Royal, Norwich Emery, 2 copies, Theatre-Royal Corcnt Garden Etridge, York James Everingham, B. C. John Lewis Eyre, Esq. York F. Mr. Firth, Theatres-Royal, York and Hull Fitzgerald, Ditto, Norwich Miss Fitzgerald, Ditto, Ditto A Friend, 6 copies Charles Frost, Esq. Hull Mr. J. R. Fryer, York G. Lieutenant Galloway, 10th Regiment Mr. Gray, Driffield Mrs. John Grimston, Neswick H. Edward Haggerston, Esq. Mr. Thomas Hall, Doncaster F. Hall, jun. — W. Hall, Theatres -Royal, York and Hull Major Hamilton, A. Q. M. G. Mr. J. P. Harley, Theatres-Royal, York & Hull H. W. Hentig, Esq. Mr. Hammond, Theatre-Royal, Norwich — - Hewett, Ditto, Ditto J. C. Hindes, Esq. Theatre Royal, Norwkh Henry Hodgson, Esq. Sherbourne Macklin Holland, Esq. LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. Mr. Hope, Theatres-Royal, York and Hull — - H. Howlett, 3 copies, York K. Mr. Kelly, Theatres-Royal, York and HuU Edward Kerr, Esq. Hull Miss King, Theatre-Royal, Norwich Edward Kiiowsley, Esq. Hull Captain George Lutton, 2 copies, York M. Captain MachcU Colonel Maister Lieutenant Colonel Maister H. W. Maister, Esq. Thomas Manly, Esq. Theatre, Sheffield Mr. Matthews, Theatre-Royal Covent-Gardcn W. M. Maude — - M'Gibbon, 3 copies, London Wallace Metcalf, Esq. W. Middleton, Esq. Hull Mr. Murphy N. Miss Neville,^ Doncasier Mr. Newmarch, Jun. C. J. Newstead, York W. Nicholson, Merchant^ Hull Miss Nightingale, York — - R. Norris, Beverletf O. Mrs. R. Osborne, HuU P. J. C. Parker, Esq. Hull R. C. Pease, Esq. Ditto J. R. Pease, Esq Ditto Mr. T. Percival, York J. K. Ficard, Ksq. Hull Mr. Pratt, Theatre-Royal, Norwich R. Frederic Reynolds, Esq. London Mrs. Reynolds LIST OF SUBSCRIBERS. Mr. J. Rickard, Doncaster James Robertson, Esq. Theatre, Sheffield Thomas Robertson, Esq. Theatre, Lincoln Mr. J. Robiusott, York Robinson, Driffield S. Miss E. Severs, York Captain Sharp, 4th East York Local Militia Mr. Thomas Sheppard P. Shack, Doncaster John Smith, Esq. Hull Barnard Smith, Esq. a copies, York Mr. Suett, Doncaster Sowby, Hull F. W. Storry, York W. Storry, Ditto — Stringer, Attorney, Doncaster Rey. R. Sykes Mr. Sykes T. Lieutenant Terry, 65th Regiment Mr. J. Thompson, York Todd, Market.Place^ Hall T. Trotter, Esq. 2 copies, Worthing V. Mr. H. Vining, Theatre-Royal, Norwich W. Mr. E. Wallis, York Lady Walsh, PVarJield^ Berkshire Mrs. Walton, 2 copies, Doncaster Mr. Water worth. Attorney -at- Law, Doncaster William Wilkins, Esq. Norwich Joseph Wilkinson, Esq. Coftinghatn Mr. Wilkinson, Theatre-Royal, Norwich J. S. Williamson, Esq. Mr. Williams, Theatre-Royal, Normch Thomas Wilson, Esq. York Mr. Thomas Wilson R. Worksop, Esq. Doncaster Mrs. Worksop; Ditto TO THE PATRONS5 SUPPORTERS, FRIENDS, AND ADMIRERS OP THE DRAMA, •rntS ATTP,>IPT to ttEsCtE It FROM ASPERSION, AND ESTAULtSti ITS lITtLlTY^ TO OSfAllf TIfilft AP?R08ATI@!f A3(» AM»l¥l©sr OF f WBJft MOST OBIDIENf HUMBLE SERVANT, Robert ManseU ll\}VLy March 1, !8l4t AN INTRODUCTORY EPISTLE Addressed to Mrs. , Of Castle, GLAMORGANSHIRE; xDontamina a 4iuccinct account o£ the Ouacn oS the ^taae, 7i>Uri a viem OP it at trie heuoa, mnen it vecame an omect op lejaenenuon to tne fj/^atneii\\\ the stage remained sacred to, and under the protection of its old patron, who had amongst the Romans his Altar on the Right Hand of the Stage, and the particular God, to whom the play was dedicated, on the left*. In this state, much degenerated by show and spectacle, the fathers found the Roman stage. And it was occasionally profaned by representations of the Ludi Scenici, •*■ Nee fas est nobis audire adulteria deo- rum hominumq, quce suaviverdorum mo- dulantur mercedef/' * The figures of tragedy and comedy frequently occupy those situations in the modern theatre, but they have no worshipers, nor do we wish them. — We are as averse to enthusiasm as we are hostile to SUPERSTITION. + Another instance of their incorrectly blending the Histriones and the Ludi. so This being the case^ a christian could not be present^ or assist at these represen- tations, without openly countenancing or conforming to the idolatrous worship of the Heathens; which the fathers, as be- came conscientious and pious pastors, were extremely solicitous to prevent. They were sensible of the difficulties they had to en- counter, and the obstacles they had to sur- mount. The christian religion was yet but newly planted, and therefore until it had taken sufficient root, was carefully to bq covered and defended from the injuries of rude beasts, and the contagion of those rank superstitious weeds that grew about it, by which the root might be killed, or the soil infected, and the sap withdrawn. Paganism was a religion invented at first to oblige and captivate the people, and gained its credit and authority among them by indulging their sensuality, and 21 even gratifying their lusts ; it was aug- mented by degrees, by ambitious cunning men^ who, to render themselves more po- pular, and gain an interest with the multi- tude, recommended to them under the no- tion of religion, what they found most ac- ceptable to the humour and palate of the populace. By this means the various pro- cessions^ games, and shows, were intro- duced, and became the most formal part of their solemnities; men being easily per- suaded to like what was so conformable to their inclinations, that in the exercise and discharge of their duties, their senses were entertained, and their appetites flattered. Against a superstition thus framed for lux- ury, and contrived for sensual enjoyment, Christianity was to make its way, drive out those rites, destroy a title founded upon the prescription of many ages, supported by the authority of the civil government, and fortified in its possession by prejudice, inclination, and interest; and all this to be 22 done with the assistance'onlj of truth, and simplicity of doctrine and manners. The pomp and magnificence of their solemn worship was absolutely to be taken away, and their licentious practices to be re- strained, reformed, and replaced, by severe principles and austerity. All this to be a,ccomplished amongst a people^, whom the submission and tribute of the world far 5S, had made wealthy, proud, and wanton* It is not, therefore, to be wondered ^fc if those early champions of the gospel pro- portioned their zeal and vigilance to the magnitude of the occasion, and the strength of the oppositioa. The games and shows of the ancient heathens were the parts of their religion the most generally engaging, that attracted most and kept the multitude firmest to them. The fathers, who knew where the strength lay, have employed all their artillery against these shows ; their batteries have played incessantly upon 23 them as the only forts that were capable of making resistance and stopping their pro- gress — The drama^ from its idolatrous origin, and its then existing appearance, of course participated with the shows in the Condemnation of the fathers. It was un- warrantable because idolatrous ; and, in their opinion, impossible for a christian, however well principled or disposed, to partake of the entertainment without sha- ring the pollution, or to abstract the diver- sion from the guilt. They thought it dangerous to trust their converts, however fortified, to the temptation of so seductive a religion, which was far from curbing the appetites or laying any restraints upon the desires of its proselytes. Indeed, many of its duties were but panders to their lusts, and most of its acts of devotion so many entertainments for their senses. The por- tion of those that embraced Christianity was mortification and suffering, meeting- perpetual discouragement, and (until the 24 time of Constantine ) encountering frequent persecutions. Their reward was in rever- sion ; their expectation^ indeed^ was large^ but the prospect was distant. Present ease and enjoyment are too apt to prevail against a remote hope. In our common affairs of the world futurity maintains itself but ill against the present ; and neither the great- ness nor the certainty of the reversion will appear as a sufficient counter-balance to the immediate possession. This was the case of Christianity in its infancy. The heathen priesthood, con- tented with the countenance and encou- ragement of the state, submitted to the directions and appointment of it even in matters relating to their own mysteries : they assumed no dominion or jurisdiction over private consciences, either in point of principle or practice, but left those matters wholly to the civil government, which made laws for their regulation, and ap- 25 pointed niagislrates for the inspection of men's manners, in which regard was had chiefly, if not only, to the public quiet and security — to the preservation and augment- ation of the state. The people therefore received easily, a religion, which, though false, gave them so little disturbance; their theology, like their worship, was suited, and adapted to the capacity of the multitude. — The one consisting of surprising fables, the other of delightful solemnities. But the gospel had none of these advan- tages with the million ; it was not con- trived and modelled for popularity, it did not humour the inclinations, and indulge the appetites of the people. To the purity of its doctrine, a conformity of life and manners was required, the passions were to be curbed, and the desires moderated^ Instead of pomp and learning, simplicity D 26 and sobriety were to be their entertain- ments : —their amorous Gods, whose fabu- lous histories gave countenance to men's lusts^ and encouragement to their debauch- eries^ were to be displaced, and the know- ledge and worship of the true one to be introduced, whose majesty was as grand and awful, as the others were represented trifling and culpable ! These were the conditions of conversion froni Heathenism, and the change must appear to mere flesh and blood, rather dis- advantageous. The Fathers, therefore, who knew how hard it was to keep the appetites in entire subjection, took care to fortify, as strongly as possible, those parts in which they expected the rebellion should first break out. The plays of all the Hea- then solemnities were those that gave the strongest temptation to the new converts ; they had so little of the air of religion, that they thought if they did not countenance 27 the end and design of tlicm, they mighty without imputation^ partake of the diver- sion^, in which they met with frequent examples of innocence and virtue. This alarmed the FatherS;, they justly appre- hended that their converts^ from liking the entertainments themselves^ might proceed to approve the occasion of them, — To ohviate these dangers^ they summoned all their prudence^ and all their art ; they omitted no topic which rhetoric or satire could supply, to fright or persuade men from those diversions. Nor was all their zeal and caution any more than was necessary — the danger was great, and so was the temptation; the fort was to be maintained, not only against an enemy without, but a strong faction within; the senses appetites, and passions were already gained to the enemies' party, nothing remained but religion and reason to make good the defence. Those generals therefore D3 28 that would hold out when the garrison was inclined to surrender^ must not onlj display their courage and conduct^ but exert their jurisdiction likewise to the utmost. This the ancient fathers did, whose examples have been followed by many in succeeding periods, without the same reason, authority, or success. Thus, Madam, have we finished our projected tour, and as far as gratified curiosity can be satisfactory to an inquiring mind, I trust we have derived some satisfac- tion from the expedition. — We now come to the more delicate task of examining the qualifications of our accusers, and the justice of their accusations. You will perceive we have formidable names to contend with; Plato, Xenophon, Aristotle, Solon, Seneca, Cicero, Livy, and a longtrain of &c*s. frightful to enumerate. Be not alarmed — there's nothing in a name — ''tush, tush, scare boys with bugs.'' — Plato says. 29 '''Plays raise the passions and pervert the use oftheni^and^ by consequence^ are dangerous to morality. ' ' — There is the whole of Plato *s evidence ? — Now, we can produce plays that do not pervert the passions, conse- quently, all plays upon that score are not dangerous. Xenophon condemns '' the warm licentiousness of dramatic poets/'— Licentiousness is not now a necessary ingredient, it is justly dismissed in disgrace, and therefore Xenophon *s opinion is quite irrelevant to the subject. But [ cannot dismiss this ancient worthy, without intro- ducing to your notice a passage which I met with in a puritanical invective, written against the stage in the year 1699. — It is there set out with a formality of dulnessy and an affectation of consequence that ren- dered it one of the most irresistibly comic passages I ever encountered. — It is a description of a dramatic entertainment, Xenophon witnessed — where,! am not suffi- ciently versed in ancient lore, to inform you, D3 30 but I will give it you as I found it. " The Sjracusian entered like Bacchus, with a pipe before him, playing a rioting tune. Then entered Ariadne, gorgeously apparel- led like a bride, and sat down before the company ; she did not go to meet Bacchus as a dancing, nor rose from her seat, but made such signs as discovered he might have an easy conquest. When Bacchus beheld her, he expressed his passion, as much as possible, in his dance, and drawing near her, fell down on his knees, embraced and kissed her. She, though with some faint resemblance of coyness and modesty, embraced him again. At this the specta- tators gave shouts of applause! — The whole audience swore, that the boy and girl loved one another in reality ; for they did not act like those who had been taught only to personate those gestures. At last, when the company perceived that they were clasped in one anothers arms. Those that had no wives , swore they would marrv. 31 and those that xvere married, took horse and went home to their wives immedi- ately/* There^ Madam^ there is a delicaf« histrionical morceau ! — But my author has done us great injustice^ for he brings this forward as a very serious heavy charge, to prove the fatal influence of theatrical representations! — Now^really^had we stage saints, as well as kings, heroes, and bishops, the Syracusean boy and girl should have a theatrical canonization. At any rate, they are worthy of being perpetuated through the medium of statues, medals, poetry, and painting. Sincerely do I wish our modern Roscii had done but one ten thousandth part as much service to the state, and the morals of the people; — why, it is realizing the good old sentiment: ^' The single married, and the married happy/' — It must have taken place in the golden age of the poets ! — But pleasant and refreshing as this 32 delightful matrimonial prospect is^ we cannot remain longer to dwell upon it. — We must proceed in our investigation. Aristotle declaims against the impro- priety of subjecting youth to the danger of a promiscuous company, until they are sufficiently fortified against the influence of corruption. He is particularly apprehen- sive of drunkenness^ a term to which some of the disingenuous writers against the stage, have given a more extensive latitude, by interpreting it dehauchery. To one of your classical information, it will appear strange, that Aristotle should be arranged on this side of the question; a writer, who has taken such infinite pains to establish rules for the more easy and regular compo- sition of drama's, and has pronounced a finished tragedy to be the most exalted effort of human genius ! — We must leave it to our judges, whether they will receive as honest evidence, an insulated passage 33 in contradiction to a work, that must have employed many years of his life. To ima- gine a man would lay down rules for the formation of a thing, of which he forbade the use, would be as ridiculous, as the idea of meeting a player without vanity, or a methodistwithout rancour. Solon expressed his dislike to the representations of Thespis^ by striking his staff upon the ground, and uttering some angry words. The philoso- phers choler was excited by the ribaldry of an art, in its earliest and most imperfect state. Seneca expressed his displeasure towards the Romans for neglecting their schools, and attending too closely to their theatres.— Yet, I need not tell you, that this same Seneca is supposed by Lipsius, Joseph Scaliger, and other celebrated critics, to have been the author of three tragedies, viz, Medea, Hippolytus, and Troas. 34 Cicero disapproves of the licentiousness too common in the latin dramatic poets. — But Tully, the orator^ was the admirer, friend^ and panegyrist of Roscius the actor. — Let us hear this eloquent pleader's opinion upon a sister art ; — hesententiousljr says ^^The good and evil in a state depend greatly on the music, that is most encou-^ raged in it. If it be too light and wanton, the people are insensibly rendered foolish and disorderly. If, on the contrary, it be grave and masculine, they become modest by its influence/" — Now, really, this may be all very sensible, and the admirers of antiquity discover much wisdom and latent excellence in this declaration. — This pro- found kind of trifling might have suited the genius of a Roman politician, and have cor- responded with the dignity of theTusculan orator. — But if Lord Henry Pettj^ with all his passion for the art, and his musical celebrity into the bargain, were seriously to advance such an absurd position, his friends J would be calculating on the melancholy idea cf removing him from (he chapel of St. Stepheri's to the hospital of St. Luke^s. — Livy condemns^, with just indignation and severity, the encouragement given to the Ludi Scenici. — But these are representations as widely different from the legitimate drama^ as a harlequinade can be to one of the divine compositions of Shakespeare. I will not fatigue you or myself with wading through any more of these tedious and perverted authorities. — Even allowing the quotations cited against us in their full extent, still there are left some of the greatest men in antiquity^ who admired the art, and exerted their utmost power to cherish and protect it. Julius and Augustus were known to dedicate some of their leisure hours, when retired from the fatigues of state^ to the composition of tragedy. Marcus Brutus, a character considered to be unimpeachable in roman 36 virtue, was a warm patron and supporter of the drama. ^ Terence, in an indirect manner^ confesses having received assistance from Scipio^ Africanus, and Lelius. In short, Madam^ the names of these great writers change sides so verj often^ just to suit the views of the opposers or supporters of a stagCj that it really puzzles a 'plain simple man to judge or determine what party they possibly can appertain to — and by this perplexity add stronger ridicule to the idea of calling upon either Greeks or Romans to decide a question purely British ! Sincerely do I wish both parties would coincide in the propriety of their dismissal, nor longer suffer them to entan- gle or confuse a contest which they can neither elucidate nor terminate. Having dispatched the ancients, I must now raise an enormous tax upon your patience, by entreating your attention to the opinions of men who existed in an age 37 most emphatically and justly designated DARK : when the sun of knowledge had not strength to vivify inquiry,, or to animate exertion, when all the nobler emanations of the mind, inert^ feeble, and emasculated, were easily led captives, by ignorance, bigotry, and superstition. — What will add to our mortification is, the necessity we shall be under of being more minute and particular in our examination of the opinions broached by ascetics and retired visionaries, than we were in the investigation of the more vigorous minded heathens. — It is our duty. Madam, and we must perform it. The fathers have UNEQUIVOCALLY and AvowEDLvproclaimed their opinions, violently and diametrically in opposition to the use of a stage. — Most of its succeeding adversaries have followed their mode of condemnation. All its present opponents, who embellish them- selves with the name of christian, look up to the early and learned churchmen as E 38 precedents for their conduct.— It behoves usj therefore, to search more strictly into this enormous, formidable display of ecclesias- tical vengeance. — The survey we have taken of the ancient stage, will, in some measure, account for the rooted antipathy expressed by the fathers. — Much praise is due to them for their exertions in repelling such abominations as were then exhibited. That degraded, degenerate age is passed^ and with it^ all the merit of their opposition. ■ — But still, I am inclined to call in question the means they adopted to check the profli* gacy of the thing they condemned. — * Deceit is unpardonable- — and, they have avowed charges, honest truth must condemn, and at which reason must revolt, •fcrrj will prove to you, that the zeal of these good fathers, so far outrun discretion, as latterly to vitiate their decisions, and inca- pacitate them for judges ; St. Augustin, St. Chrysostom, St, Cyprian, and Tertullian. are the^great authorities from whence, our. modern devotees draw their invectives. 39 St. Aiigustia sayS;, '' That the stage was introduced into Rome for the recrea tion of the sensualists^ and admitted hy the dissolute morals of the time " — this may be true — but,, unfortunately for the credit of himself and his admirers^ he adds — ''The Heathen Idols desired that IT might be dedicated to them ! !*' — 1 will not insult your understanding by expatiating on this absurdity. St. Chrysostom railed most virulently against the stage, yet read and studied all the dramatic poets ; and from that impure source, he borrowed a style of eloquence which made him the most persuasive and admired preacher of his time.^ — I must here remark to you, that the most violent of our modern saints, approve of moral or religious pieces, in the form of a drama.— » It is the acting alone that is sinful !— You remember the big endians and the little endians ? E3 40 St. Cyprian sajs, upon the silence of THE SCRIPTURE '^ with rcspect to plajs that the divine wisdom would have had a lo7V opinion of christians^ had it descended to be more particular in this case I" '' O lame and impotent conclusion !" — Cyprian is very explicit in his reasons for feeling a detestation to the existence of a theatre. — f" To his reasons^ with such a provocation, every honest man mustsubscribe. "Theatra i-^ \ sunt fcediora, quo convents verundia illic > \ omnis exuitur simul cum amictu, vestis \ honor corporis, et'pudorponitur,denotanda^ ac contrectanda, xirginitas revelatur,*' Tertullian has been more diffuse^ more absurd, and more inveterate than any of them ; — we will pass by his having fallen into heresy, — this blemish in the life of the holy father, would, upon any other question, have worked considerably to his disadvan- tage. — But you know. Madam, his being an enemy to the theatre, is a sufficient 41 apology for all the heresies into which degenerate nature could lead him.— ^If we may judge from the glaring nonsense he has published against the draraa^ we may venture to pronounce him a very probable subject to be mislead^ or dazzled by the wanderings of his own imagination. — He say§ ; '' The Devil mounted the tragedians upon buskins^ because he would make our Saviour a lyar /*'-- — Passing by the jibsurdity of the factitious aid of dress giving real height^, or breadth, to the human figure — full well must it be known that the cothurni, or high heeled shoes, worn by the greek tragedians, were invented upwards of one thousand years before the birth of our Saviour ! ! ■ The learned father seems to have been indefatigable upon the subject, for he has formally recorded twelve reasons against the use of a theatre.^Conceiving them io embrace all the serious objectioips of th^t age, and finding they have^an iufiuence upon a E3 43 certain 'description of people, even to this very day, I think they demand some little of our attention ; therefore, with your permission, I will copy them, and we will pass a slight comment on each, 1st. '' Because the spirit of the gospel is a spirit of gentleness; but the actors are forced to put themselves into a posture of warmth, and anger, and fury, and the spectators themselves cannot behold them without being put into a passion/' I have certainly seen an audience evince BO inconsiderable share of anger at bad acting, indecencies, and improprieties. But I have beheld hundreds of instances, where they have remained tranquil and composed, even at the very time the stage has exhibited some dire^ fierce, and BLOODLESS confiict. 2d. '^ Because vanity, which is proper 43 to the stage, is altogether foreign to christiaoity/' Were this fantastical lady to be pursued through all her different shades, it would be diflicult to determine to whom slie legiti- mately appertains. — Sometimes she will walk demurely under a broad brim hat, at others luxuriate in lawn sleeves; — sometimes she will reason with a philoso- pher^ at others bawl with a field preacher, and even Queen Mab herself cannot exhibit more versatile powers. — At any rate, she is not an exclusive stage property, though frequently brought thither to expose her own absurdities. 3rd. '' Because we are not to consent to people's sin/' This ingenious objection we must leave to Rowland II ill, Johanna Southcoate, or any other old woman, deep in mystery to enucleate. 44 4tli. '' Because men are abused in these | places^ and neither princes nor peopk spared^ and this being unlawful elsewhere^ must be unlawful upon the stage." How glorious an eulogium ! This isthe highest panegyric^ upon the stage^ I have ever had the good fortune to peruse. — It shews the exalted independence of the dramatic muse, and the boundless extent of her power.— She knows no enemy but vice. — No friend but virtue ! — And, until all men are honest, all princes just, all soldiers valiant, all magistrates pure, and all priests sincere, I hope and trust she will fearlessly exercise her jurisdiction, not being biassed by the rank of the culprit, but justly indignant, at the extent of his offence. 5th. '' Because all immodesty and scur- rility is forbid by the law of the gospel, and not only acting it, but seeing and hearing it acted."' 45 This is* as foreign to the existing ^ drama, as a decree of the court of chancery to a suhject of Tripoli. These offences would now receive the immediate and summary punishment of the audience, by censure and disapprobation. 6th. '' Because all players are hypocrites, seen to be what they are not, and all hypocrisy is condemned by the gospel.'* Did you ever. Madam, at a play, imagine Mrs. Siddons was absolutely endeavouring to persuade you she was not Mrs. Siddons^ but Queen Catharine ? — or Mr. Kemble, that he was really the proud patrician Coriolanus* .? No one of the great pleasures arising from the exhibition of the art, is, knowing the actors designated * If identity of person can i^eullij be absorbed in imaginary character, these are two of the most probably specimens I know i% establish the doctrine. 4& by their separate names ; jct^ witnessing their skill in expressing the thoughts and actions of others.*^ With respect to any other latitude given to this offensive word^ I have often wished my brethren possessed a share of this modern succedaneum of every virtue. Perhaps, though, we mistake the good father^ he might have been speaking lite- rally; — for I believe, Madam, the term hypocrite originated in being applied to the ancient actor s, who, by playing ini visors, appeared that which they were not. How customs change ! The stage adepts bavedropt the visor; and adepts of another description have taken it up! 7th. *' Because the actors very often belie their sex, and put on women's apparel, which is forbid by the law of God/* In the days of Tertullian there were no 47 actresses, the female characters Were represented b J youths^. With respect to the change of dress, I am aware the Mosaic law condemns the custom ; the reason for which^ those versed in the Jewish anti- quities, customs and manners^ can probably furnish us. I profess my ignorance. — I only know we do not practice the purifi- cations, and the many peculiar and minute regulations to be found in the books of Leviticus and Deuteronomy. 8th. '' Because these plays dull and damp devotion and seriousness, which is, and ought to be, the indelible character of christians.*' We do not wish to damp pure devotion ; on the contrary, it is our desire to fan the flame. We certainly are averse to dull * Female characters were not represented by women upon the english stage until aftcrrthe restoration. 48 sei'iousness. For mj own partj Madam, sincerely do I wish the word banished from our vocabulary. — There are at present as many absurdities^ imperii nenees^ and follies concealed under the epithet serious, as under that of shaker, 9th, ^' Because it is a disparagement to God, to lift up those hands to applaud a player, which we lift up to the throne of grace/* Ah ! my good father, it is not the lifting up the hands but the elevation of the heart that will be acceptable to thy judge and mine ! — The mahometans and the eastern idolators lay a stress upon the application and religious uses of the hands, , but the enlightened christian looks with> contempt and pity upon such puerilities. — If the mind is sincerely devout, the hands will follow in correspondent movements; — nor will it ever be required at thej 49 throne of niercjj what was their previous occupation. 10th. '' Because experience shows how theDEViLhathsonietiiue;>o55r.s.s^rZchristians in a plav-house, and being afterwards cast out, confessed tliat lie had reason to enter them^ because he found them in his own place*.'* * Tertullian Tcry graYcIy gives us the instance in the following style : **A certain woman went to the play-honse, and brought THE DEVIL HOME MJih her. And when the unclean spirit was pressed in the exorcism, and asked how he DURST attack a christian ? — I have done nothing (says he) but what ^I can justify — for I seized her upon my own ground." De Speciuculas^ Cap, 26. But why should this excite surprise? John Wesley in the eighteenth century^ declared in the presence of a numerous company (Dr. Coke being one) that the whole bench of bishops together, F 50 Oh Madam ! what a foolish Devil ! Had he kept his own council^| what noble sport he would have had upon his rojal manor ! — To scare the game from his net^ could not invalidate the reality of witchcraft ! ! ! He then told a most extraordinary story of a supposed murder, which I would relate, but I wish to supply its place with a tale recited by a preacheu, at the same meeting. — The subject is a haunted house, near Dungannon, in the North of Ireland. ^' An officer, quartered at that town, one evening •when rather pot-valiant, went, by himself, to the haunted house, knocked at the door, and demanded io see the ghost. An old woman who opened the door of the cabin, warned him to repress his curiosity, fur that the ghost, if provoked, might make him rcj)ent his intrusion : however, he still presisting, she gave him at length admittance; and he advanced into the middle of the floor, when, to his great terror and astonishment, he found himself violently assailed by a shower of potatoes from an invisible hand, issuing from the roof ! — On which he rushed forward for shelter, and thrust his head up the wide funnel of the x^himQ^y ; but the ghost still pursued him with fresK 51 shows him to have been then a very silly Devil indeed^ I fancy since that period he is ^rovs^n a great deal wiser^, for he now makes sure of his prey^, without acquainting us whether he takes it from the tabernacle or the play-house. 11th, '"^ Because no man can serve two piasters^ God and the Worlds as those christians pretend to do that frequent both the church and stage*.'* showers of potatoes down the chimney, until at length he fled out of the house, battered and bruised, swearing that he got proof enough of the ghost on his head and shoulders." Dr. Ilale^s Methodism Inspected^ Part ^nd^ p, 42. * I wonder they have never pressed the Decalogue into the service. Thou shalt not steal — would evidently apply to the author. Thou shalt not commit murder — might be vcrj appropriately applied to the actors. E3 52 No man can s^rve God and Mammon ; and he who neglects his duty to his Makers or suffers it to be abstracted by any pursuit, (I care not what it be) commits the crying and grevious sin of ingratitude. — But he who suffers an amusement to absorb his devotions, is a contemptible idiot, beneath reproof, and would disgrace correction. — This rule, like most of the objections furnished in the days of the fathers, against the stage, no longer applies. It is nonsense to suppose that a couple of hours of rational entertainment, after the fatigues of a day, can interfere with our duty to God or man. But, in the time Tertullian lived, this caution was absolutely requisite ; for the Roman shows would occupy a whole Thou shalt not bow down nor bend before anj graven image — would be an excellent admonition to those audiences that bestow such enthusiastic applause upon canvas camels, wooden horses, lasteboard men, and basket elephants ! 63 day, and by their pageantry draw off the early christians, not only from their usual avocations, but to jthe utter neglect of all their religious forms and ceremonies. 12th. '' Because, though some speeches in a play are witty and ingenious, yet there is poison at the bottom, and vice is only coloured and gilded with fine language and curious emblems, that it may go down more glibly, and ruin the soul more artificially/* This is the only rule of the twelve that has survived the wreck of time, and still bears a capability of application to the present stage. Any play, confirming the truth of the remarks contained in Tertullian's twelfth objection, should be considered in the most reprehensible point of view, and consigned, with infamy, to oblivion. — But until ALL PLAYS are proved to possess this pernicious inclination, the stage remains F 3 54 uninjured ! Now^ Madam, is it not really lamentable, deplorable, aggravating to the extreme, that a great invention, a sublime art, should be opposed by such an over- whelmingmass of nonsense and stupidity : — nor is it the least provoking part, to be consciousof the ungenerous, nefariousmode our opponents take to direct this incon- gruous, misshapen chaos of absurdities to our disadvantage — The great and good men who have evinced their approbation of the dramatic art, not only by their countenance, but by their writings, are depreciated, dismissed, with every mark of contempt, decreed ignorant of true religion, and denounced as advocates in the service of the Devil ! A St. Cyprian, and a TertuUian, on the contrary, are held forth as beings of the very first order ; whose opinions, upon this one subject, are held as sacred oracles, irresistable, irrefra^ gable, and infallible ! — Will they direct us where we can find, among the fathers. 55 a stronger practical lesson upon the belief of Christianity, than the death-bed of Addison — the author of two plays, and, during" the whole of his life, the warm supporter, friend and encourager of the drama — his final exit displaying and com- bining the mildness of a christian, with the resolution of a stoic ! Yet a brazen faced sophist has had the temerity to affirm, that '' the theatre made even Addison forget his virtue and his creed!'* Which of the fathers had the advantage of Dr. Johnson, in moral practice or intellectual excellence ? — Yet he is the writer of a tragedy, and his chef d'ceuvres are his preface to Shakespear's works, and his prologue for the opening of Drury-lane theatre. Where will they find, in the whole round of antiquity, a name superior to Milton ? — Why should they inviduously 56 pass him over^ ransack the dust for beings known only by their polemical squabbles, and venerable only for the magnitude and ponderosity of their heavy folios.-^-Even if you did not coincide with me in opinion upon this subject, yet such is the superior discrimination and native ingenuousness of your mind, that you would pronounce yourself a convert to the stage, by a single perusal of Milton's preface to his Sumpson Agonistes^ '' Tragedy," says he, '' as it was anciently composed, has been held the GREATEST MORALIST and most profitable of all other poems : therefore said by Aristotle to be of power, by raising piety and fear, or terror, to purge the mind of those and such like passions; that is, to temper and reduce them to just measure, with a kind of delight, stirred up by the reading, or seeing those passions weli imitated. Hence philosophers and 57 other grave writers, as Cicero^ Plutarch^ and others, frequently cite out of tragic poets, both to adorn and illustrate their discourse. The apostle Paul himself thought it not unworthy to insert a verse of Euripides into the text of holy SCRIPTURE. I. Cor. C. 15. V. 38. — And Peraeus^ commenting on the Revelation, divides the whole book as a tragedy into ACTS, distinguished each by a chorus of heavenly harpings and songs between/* "^ Heretofore men in the highest DIGNITY have laboured not a little to be thought able to compose a tragedy. Of that honour Dionysius the elder, was no less ambitious than before of his attaining the tyranny. Augustus Cjesar, also had begun his Ajax, but unable to please his own judgment with what he had begun, left it unfinished. Seneca the philosopher, is by some thought the author of those tragedies (at least the best of them ) that 58 go under his name. Gregory Nazianzen, a FATHER OF THE CHURCH, thoUgllt it DOt unbecoming the sanctity of his person^ to WRITE a TRAGEDY, which hc entitled Christ*s sufferings!'* Now, Madam, what say yoa to the strong evidence in out favour^ Hitis furuished by a religious poet, and latin secretary to the puritaaical Oliver, whose attainments as a scholar, whose skill as a poet, and whose integrity as a man, standi unimpeachable ? It is with extreme regret I feel myself tttider the necessity of detaining you a few minutes longer in this disgusting investi- gation, but I have yet in reserve, a few more absurdities, to which I must call your attention. Jeremy Collier, a name high in the list of our correctors, having given some 59 instances of the lamentable pruriencies^ to be found in the writers of his day, proceeds to the accusation of profaneness. He then particularizes. Some of his extracts, I will furnish jou with, that you may feel the full value of his pindaric flight. Valentine, in Love for Love; says ''I am Truth, I am Truth.— Who's that that's out of his way ?— i am Trnth, and can set him right," Lady Brute, in The Provoked Wife, observes '' The part of a down-right zi'ife, is to cuckold her husband: — and though this is against the strict statute law of religion, yet if there were a Court of Chancery in Heaven, she should he sure to cast him," Young Fashion in The Relapse, when plotting against his elder brother^ remarks to his servant : ^' Lory, Providence 60 fhou seesty at lastj takes care of inen of merit.'* — Berinthia says to Amanda: '' J\Ir. WoriJiy used you like a text, he took ijou all to 'pieces:" — and she concludes with this pious exhortation^ '' JS^ow con- sider what has been said, and Heaven give you grace to put it in practice/' Mr. Collier declares, '' There are few of these last quotations but what are plain blasphemy, and within the law. They look reeking as if it were from PANDiEMO- NiuM, and almost smell of fire and brimstone. This is an eruption of Hell with a witness ! I almost wonder the smoke of it has not darkened the sun, and turned the air to plague and poison ! These are outrageous provocations; enough to arm all nature in revenge; to exhaust the judgments of Heaven, and sink the island into the sea ! ! !" Observe^ that I am far from considering 61 Uiese profime passages^ or any similar tu them, justifiable. — No — [ deeply deplore the propensity ;, that too many dramatic writers have^ for trifling with opinions, from whence wit should not be elicited^ nor into which ridicule should not be infused. Had I my Lord Chamberlain's pen to exer* cise, upon the new pieces, I must candidly confess, it would be very freely employed in the erasure of those lively jests, too imbecile to be impious, and too dull to be witty, viz. ^' I would shake hands with Old Nick.'' ^^A fig for all the saints in the calendar, &c. &c. &c.- Jlxit to imagine the follies of all the poets that ever existed, could poison the air, darken the sun, and sink the island, is forming an idea so base, so puerile, so unworthy of the great enlightened incomprehensible Creator, as to make it a doubt which is the most reprehensible, the poet, or the right reverend critic. O 62 The next in order, gives me a considerable degreeof painlodragtopnbliclight, and it i» "with no small degree of diffidence^ I proceed to the attack of an opinion emanating from a man of known genius and splendid abilities. — '' But men are but men.'* — And when I reflect upon the violent adversary of the amiable Fenelon, 1 am released from a great part of my astonishment, in perusing the following invective of the right reverend Bishop of Meaux, against the stage, and the high panegyric upon the Israelites ! He sajs, '' They hud no shows to entertain but their feasts, their sacrifices, and their holy ceremonies. Thej- were formed, by their constitution, to a plain and natural way of livuig : they knew nothing of these fancies and inventions of Greece; so that to the praise that Balaam gives them, that there is no enchantment in Jacob, nor divination in Israel, we may likewise add, there was no THEATRE among them, nothing of these 63' dangerous amusements to be met with :-— This INNOCENT and undebauciied people took their recreations at home^ and made their children their diversion !" That the learned Bossuet should so far suffer prejudice to cloud his reason and fetter his understanding, is indeed a subject not more for astonishment than regret. To find a man of his elevated rank in the republic of letters, eulogising the Hebrews, and giving them the pre-eminence to all the splendid nations of antiquity, must ever stand as an extraordinary aberration of genius, and be classed as a phenomena in literature. What could recommend them so particularly to his notice ? Was it their perverseness, their ingratitude, their cruelty ? — Was it their inclination for war, their blood-thirsty revenge, their intolle- rance, their villainy, their superstition, their pertinacious ignorance? — Where are their virtues recorded ? In vain do we G3 64 search for them in their o\^a historiaDS ; from Moses down to Josephiis^ it is but a melancholy catalogue of the base qualities I have enumerated. A people possessing" all the brutal vices of the ancients, without the display of their virtues^, or the adorn- ment of their elegancies. A people whom neither mercy could conciliate, nor miracles convince*. A people, that of all others, required a theatre to improve their morals^ and ameliorate their manners. Let their own writers speak for them^ *' And they tempted God in their heart, by " asking meat for their lusts.'' " How shall 1 pardon thee for this ? Thy ^' children have forsaken me, and sworn by * God's pamper'd people, whom, debauch'd with ease. No King could govQni; and no God could please. Dryden. 65 '' them that are no Gods ; when I have fed '' them to the full, then they committed " adultery and assemhled themselves hj *' troops in the harlots houses. They vt^ere ^* as fed horses in the morning,, and every '* one neighed after his neighbour's wife." '' Hear the word of the Lord, ye '' children of Israel, for the Lord hath a '' controversy with the inhabitants of the '' land, because there is no truth, nor mercy, '' nor knowledge of God in the land. By " SWEARING, and LYiNG,and STEALiNG,and '' COMMITTING ADULTERY, they break out, '' and BLOOD toucheth blood !" Such were the amusements of this innocent and undehauched people*. * When I express raiysclf thus about the ancient Jews, I do not mean the smallest irreverence to their great and holy men. — No — their characters are too exalted to be the subject cither of my panegyric or satire. I speak only of the nation at large. G3 66 NoWj Madam^ I will give you two happy specimens of downright stupid Puritanism, '^ A remarkable judgment followed on Herod Agrippa, who appearing on the STAGE in a silver robe of admirable workmanship, and being received by the acclamations of the people as a god, because of the beams which darted from his apparel^ by the reflection of the sun, was immedi- ately smitten with a grievous disease, by something that appeared in the shape of an Owl, hovering over his head ; and being tormented for five days with anintollerable pain in his bowels, was at last miserably devoured by worms 1 *' The Lord presarve us ! ! ! This will only excite your laughter ; the next will most sensibly call forth your indignation and reprobation ! It is a liberal opinion proclaimed from the pulpit. 67 ill one of the churches of Kingston-upoii- Hull^ in the year 1792. I take it verbatim;, from Mr. Wilkinson's Wandering Patentee, (the late manager of the York and Hull theatres.) ♦ '^'^ No PLAYER or any of his children oughttobeintitled to a christian burial^ or even to lie in a church yard ! Not ONE of them can be saved! — And those who enter a play-house^ are equally certain with the players of eternal DAMNATION ! — No player can be an honest man !!'' It is utterly undeserving of any comment ; if the man should be now living and capable of reflection^ I leave him to the comforts of his own consolation. — If he has departed, it is my duty to forgive him^ and leave the above on record^ as a memento of his crime ! 68 I cannot injustice close my retrospective examination, without registering the opinion of Jeremy Collier upon the drama. The praise of an enemy, ]Vladam, must be ever valuable. — Collier was our severe accuser, yet he says, *^' The business of plays, is to commend virtue, and discoun- tenance vice; to shew the uncertainty of human greatness, the sudden turns of fate, and the unhappy conclusions of violence and injustice; 'tis to expose the singularities of pride aud fancy, to make folly and falsehood contemptible, and to bring every thing that is ill under infamy and neglect/' He further says, '' The wit of man cannot invent any thing more conducive to virtue and destructive of vice than the drama, and I grant the abuse of a things is no ARGUMENT against the use of it/'— I have kept this by way of a bonne houclie. He was the most formidable of our opponents, and like Prynne, has furnished 69 the subsequent vain antagonists with food for calumny and aspersion. And now permit me to congratulate you and myself, for having at length waded through this strange medley ; and you will now possibly inquire for the necessity of collecting all these absurdities ? My good Madam, the obliquy thrown upon the stage professors has originated from these extravagant flights. From this source the Romish clergy imbibed the pre- sumptuous audacity to withhold christian interment from actors. From these mouldy documents the puritans pertinaciously and zealously have contended for the demolition of the stage^ and the suppression of the drama.— To these antiquated notions I am indebted for slights that disgrace me in my own eyes^ and depreciate me in the estimation of the world.— — I therefore entertain a hope^ that by this candid view of the ancient stage, with the minuto TQ exaaiiQatioQ into the opinions of its cot^ni- porary accusers, I shall have fully exposed the impropriety of calling them into decide upon any dispute that may arise^ on this^ long contended subject, in the nineteenth century. I likewise wish to lead the con- tending parties to a more rational exercise of their energierg, by urging them to a calm ijavjeetigatiou of the thing itself, its meritg md its defeetg; ibe good derived, or the evils arising from its cxisteuce, for the last TWO CENTURIES. If we are to be abused, let me entreat them to exercise their iftgeauity^ uod furnish us with some novelty in their eensures. Do not let us be stunned by the repetition of quotations ineapable of application; sentences witliout sense, and philippics without poignancy. I received much amusement in meeting with an attack upon the stage by a Chinese writer, — with great pleasure and frankness I present it to our English assailants, and bope it will stimulate them to emulation. 71 '' Plays are lire-works of wit^ to be >iewed only on the night of leisure. They degrade and dirty those who let them olf; they fatigue the delicate eyes of the sag;es; tliey supply dangerous ruminations to idleness ; they stain the women and the children who approach too often and too near ; they make a smoke and a stink more lasting than the gaiety of their light ; they dazzle but to mislead ; and they often occasion ruinous conflagration!" Thiis, Madam^ is a brilliant display of philosophical fire-works^ for the amuse- ment of our friends ! — Its coruscations will not be dimmed, nor its figurative excellence be diminished, by my declaring the Chinese stage is exactly upon a par with the original cart of Thespis, con- structed in the same manner, and degraded by a similar jumble of puerilities, inde- cencies, and improbabilities, the witnessing of which would excite as much indignation /^ 2 in the breast of a Chinese Confucius^ as it did of old in the bosom of the Athenian Solon. To revert once more to the Heathen philosophers and church fathers^ there seems something very unaccountable and perverse in our rigid sectaries^ looking up to them for instruction upon any subject. Why should they require any other guide than that set down and bequeathed to us^ by our great master and his disciples ? Why should they, upon every trivial occasion of life, refer us to the scripture for instruction and information, and yet upon the subject of stage, or no stage, a sul^ject they have themselves magnified, as a matter of the greatest importance ; WHY wish to deprive us of every advantage the gospel may hold forth, and, by col- lecting a heap of rubbish, endeavour to hide it from our view ? 73 What claim to our attention can the Heathen philosophers, or early christian fathers possess, upon a present speculative point ? — I mean. Madam, it is so far speculative, that a nation can exist, and probahly flourish without a theatre — so it could if deprived of poetry — of painting — of music of statuarv or even of METtfODisM ! For my own part, the philosophers and fathers I boldly reject ; I disclaim subjection to their jurisdiction in theatricals, and make my appeal at once to the scripture, the proper guide for christians ! If the practice of the present stage be not at variance with the precepts of our iSaviour and his disciples, if that divine record does not positively condemn our pursuits, I shall remain as perfectly indifl'erent upon this subject, to the opinions of Tertullian and Cyprian, as I should be to the ipse dixit of TOM O'NOKES, or JOHN O'STYLES I ! I H 74 And noW:, Madam^ with every sense of gratitude for your attention and per- severance, I respectfully take my leave, by subscribing myself. Madam, Your most obedient. Much obliged, humble Servant, Robert Mansel. HULL, January, 1814. i 75 Father Caffaro's Letter UPON THE Lawfulness or Unlawfulness of the Stage; WJTH A BRIEF INTRODUCTION. INTRODUCTION. When I had the good fortune to encounter Father CafFaro's discourse^ it struck me as a most suitable prolegomena to a stage-defence. — I hailed him as a powerful ally — I congratulated myself upon meeting with an ecclesiastic who had undertaken the task of investigating the objections started by the earlier churchmen, and combating them upon their own grounds. I conceive (however the world might despise my feeble efforts, or condemn the liberties I have taken with opinions rendered venerable by antiquity and sacred by prescription) the religious and conscientious would pay some degree of deference to one of their own Community. — Nor must my illustrious coadjutor be rejected because he was of a different persuasion to our. H2 76 present adversaries, nor reproached with the term*; of Papist and Jesuit to depreciate his candour, industry and information. It was my design (as I have premised) to have made him my introducer to the public, and under his venerable protection, I might perhaps have iteore certainly commanded respect and attention, but some considerable time having elapsed from the final arrangement of ''Free Thoughts," to the period of delivering the work into the hands of ray publisher, I had leisure, opportunity, and inclination to collect fresh matter, and I was tempted to throw it into the form of a prefatory letter, by which means the learned professor is removed from the van to the centre* II« therefore (to pursue the metaphor) loses the post of honour, and my antagonists may take advantage of the undisciplined state, and badly marshalled system, evident in the van and rear — but 'my centre will remain inviolable, and bid defiance to all their arts and all their efforts. Father Caffaro^s letter, or rather the translation, is prefixed to a tragedy written by a Mr. Motteux^ called Beauty in DisIress, published in the year 1698 — It appears the English dramatist was himself labouring under some conscientious scruples, and applied for satisfaction on that head, to a Divine of the Church of England, who favoured him with tl^^^ following answer. 77 To Mr. MOTTEUX, AUTHOR OF THE TRAGEDY CALLED " BEAUTY IN DISTRESS/' « Concerning the Lawfulness and Unlaw- fulness of Plays. Sir, Since you have been pleased to desire my opinion about the lawfulness or unlawfulness of writing plays for the stage, 1 shall give it you with all the freedooi and impartiality which becomes one of my function. Upon reflecting on the present management of our theau iis, ow tlie actions, huoiours, and characters, which are daily represented there, which are for the most part so lewd and immodest, as to tend very much to the debauching the youth and gentry of our English nation ; I might very well dissuade you from giving any coun- tenance to such unmanly practices, by offering any of your works to the service of ;the stage. But though theatrical representations are become siu offence and scandal to most, yet I am not of their H3 78 mind, who think plays are absolutely unlawful, and the best way to reform is wholly to suppress them; for certainly they might be of very great use not ONLY FOR THE DIVERSION AND PLEASURE, BUT ALSO FOR THE CORRECTION AND INFORMATION OF MANKIND. It is no crinie to eat or drink, but the sin lies in the excessive and immoderate use, or rather abuse of those things, which we either eat or drink ; the case is much the same with plays. In their own nature they are innocent and harmless diversions ; but then indeed they become sinful and unlawful, to be made, acted, or seen, when they transgress the bounds of virtue and religion ; shock our nature ; put our modesty to the blush ; imprint nauseous and unbecoming images on our minds ; and, in a word, when they are such as are a scandal to the author, and an offence to the audience. I am not willing to believe so hardly of the age f though it is bad enough of all conscience) but that most of the persons who frequent the theatres would be as well pleased to see a play of decorum and modesty acted, as they would be to see a lewd and atheistical comedy. It is upon this consideration that I am willing to encourage you in your design of writing plays for the stage ; for you have too much prudence, honour and conscience, to subject the sacred nine to base and servile ends. It is to be hoped;, that such as you may be a means of 79 reforming the abuses of the stage, and of showing the world that a poet may be a man of sense and parts, without renouncing his virtue. I shall not trouble you at present with any farther thoughts of my own, but will give you the sentiments of a yery judicious divine upon this subject. It seems he was consulted by a gentleman, whether plays were lawful or not, and whether he might in conscience exercise his parts that way ? to this the divine replies, shewing how far plays are lawful and necessary, and when they become unlaw ful and sinful : the resolutions of these will, I trust, come up to your purpose. By this judicious dissertation, you will find your whole desire satisfied. — You will perceive he has brought the schoolmen to speak in favour of the Drama, and has explained the invectives of the fathers against it, so as to make them on its side. He has answered the most material objections which can be brought against the stage, and given very necessary precautions to such as go to the play-houses. — You will perceive he is a French divine, (Father Caffaro, brother to the Duke of ) one of the Romish religion, who has given us his thoughts in the form of a letter ; and it is ia behalf of the plays acted in France tjiat he argues. But were he to s«e our English stage, he would never 80 say such fioe things of it ; unless he saw it stocked only with plays and entertainments innocently diverting and strictly moral, as those which you hare hitherto so successfully published, are generally allowed to be. With a compliment to Mr, Mottcux upon his '' Beauty in Distress,'' which itjsould be superfluous transcribing^ his reverence subscribes himself, Sir, Your real friend to serve you, 1697—8. This tragedy is likewise honoured by some of Mr. Dry den's lines to the author being affixed to the piece. Their application comes so immediately home to the views of the present op posers of dramatic amusement, that I caunot resist my wish"to give them a place, previous to entering upon the learned Father's discourse, TO MY FRIEND THE AUTHOR. 'Tis hard, my friend, to write in such an age, As damns not only poets, but the stage. That sacred art, by Heav'n itself iafus'd. Which Moses, David, Solomon have us'd. Is now to be no more : The muses foes Would sink their Maker's praises into prose. 81 Were tliey content to prune the la? is vi ne Of straggling branches, and improve the wine, Who but a madman would his faults defend? All would submit, for all but fools would mend, But, when to common sense, they g\\e the lie, And turn distorted words to blasphemy, Tfiei/ give the scandal; and the wise discern, Their glosses teach an aaje too apt to learn. What I have loosely or profanely writ. Let them to fires (their due desert) commit. Nor when accus'd by me, let them complain : Their faults, and not their functions, I arraign. Rebellion, worse than witchcraft, they pursu'dj The pulpit preach'd the crime: the people ru'd. The stage was silenc'd : von the baiwts would ixs Is FIELDS PERPORm'd THEIR PL'^'TBD TRAGEDY. But let us Hrst reform : and then so live, That we may teach our teachers to forgive, Our desk be plac'd below their lofty chairs, Our's be the practice, as the precept theirs. The moral part at least we may divide. Humility reward, and punish pride: Ambition, int'rest, avarice accuse: These form the province of the tragic muse. There are upwards of twenty lines following thcs«, (highly flattering to the poetical character of Mr. Motteux; but as he has not had the good fortune to survive the sweeping influence of two centuries) it would only be trespassing on the reader's time and indulgence by making the addition. 82 Father Caifaro HaTing quoted only three texts' applied by the opponents of the drama against the -use- of the stage, Tiz. Isaiah c. 3. t. 16, 17. I. Cor. c. 10» V. 7. I. Thes, c. 5. v. 22. — I am compelled by candour, a love of truth, and the strong desire of having the question tried .upon scriptural ground, to add those texts I have met with in various authors who have written upon this subject. Proverbs c. 23. v. 1. Matt. c. 5. V. 28. Luke, c. 8. v. 14. John, c. 2. v. 16. Rom. c. 13. v. 13, 14. Gal. c. 5. v. 16^ Eph. c. 5. V. 4. Col. c. 3. V. 2, 3, 5, 8.— c. 4. v. 6. I. Tim. c. 2. v. 6, 6, 9. II. Tim. c. 2. v. 3, 4. Titus c. 3. V. 3. James, [c. 4. v. 3« I. Pet. c. 1. v. 17. — c. 5, v. 8. I have myself diligently sought after, and attentively perused thpse several passages ; but such is my blindness, ignorance, or stupidity, I cannot for the life of me discover the smallest affinity between the different verses and the thi»g under reprobation. However, conviction being my object, I shall ever consider myself indebted to that man who will prove, to my satisfaction, the propriety of applying them to the condemnation of the drama.. 83 A JLETTEIi FROM THE Learned Father CAFFARO, Professor of Divinity in Parisy TO A DRAMATIC WRITER, Who had^ from conscientious scruples^ consulted the Reverend Divine^ upon the Lawfulness or Unlawfulness of Writing for the Stage: WRITTEN IN THE YEAR 16 . Sir, I HAVE avoided as much as I could, giving yoa my opinion in writing, about plays, considering the delicacy of the subject, and my own incapacity. But since you press me still to cure you of that scrupulous fear which lies upon your mind, I must pass over those two difficulties, choosing rather to expose myself on your account, than not to ease you of your doubts. In trutli. Sir, the more I examine the holy fathers, the more I read the 84 ilivincs, and consult the casuists, tlie less able 1 find myself to determine any thing in this matter. I liad no sooner found sometliing in favour of the Drama among the schoolmen, who aiie almost ALL or THEM FOR ALLo^vING IT, but 1 perccivcd myself surrounded with abundance of passages out of tlie Councils, and the Fathers, who have all of them declared against public shows*. — This question would have been soon determined, if the JIoLY Scripture had said any thing abottt it. But, as Tertullian very well observes, " We no where find that we are as expressly forbidden in scripture to go to the circus and theatre, to see the fightings of gladiators, or be assisting in any show, as we are forbid to worship idols, or the being guilty of murder, treason, and adultery." If you read THE SCRIPTURES OVER AND OYER, YOU WILL NEVER MEET WITH ANY EXPRESS AND PARTI- CULAR PRECEPT AQAiNST PLAY9. Thc fathers assort, that we cannot in conscience be^ any ways assisting to the drama. The schoolmen maintain the contrary : let us therefore endeavour to make use of St. Cyprian's rule, who says, thai reason U to he heardy lohere Holy Writ is silent; and let us try to reconcile the conclusions of the divines, with the determination of the fathers of thc church. But because it is a very delicate point, and the question consists in reconciling them together, I will no{ * Vide Introductory letter, page ST— 53. 85 advance any thing of my own sentiments, but brin^ Si. Thomas Aquinas to speak for me; who being on one side a religious father, atid holy doctor of the chnrch ; ami, on fhe other side, the angel of the School, the master and head of all the divines, he seems to me the most proper of any to reconcile the disagreeing o[Mnions of both p?H:ties. In the second part of his " Smm^vts," among otiiers, Ije starts this question : '"• What ought we to think of sports and divt^rsions V And he returns an answer to himself, that provided ihey are mode- rate, tliey are not only free from sin, but in some measure good, and ronformableto that virtue, which' Aristotle stiles Eutrapelia^ whose business it Is to set just bounds to our pleasures. The reitson which he alledges for it is this: A man being fatigued by the serious actions of life, requires an agreea- ble refreshment, zcrich he can find no where so zoell as in plays: and to support his opinion, he quotes St. Augustin, who says, *' I would have *' you take care of yi)ur&clf5 for it is the part of a " wise nian, sometimes to unbend his mind, which '* is too intent upon his business." ^' Now,*(CQntiimcs 8t. Thomas) how can this *' relaxation of the mind be effected, if not by " divertiao: words or actions? ^is not therefore '^ sinful, or unbecoming a wise and virtuous man^ " to all^w himself some innocent pleasures."— I 86 Aquinas even ficcoiints it a sin to refrain from diversion: — "Because whatever is contrary to ** reason is vicious; now it is contrary to reason ** that a man should be so unsociable and hard upon ** others as to oppose their innocent pleasures, never ** to bear a part in their diversions, or contribute *' to them by his words or actions. Therefore ** Seneca very justly and reasonably says ; — * F^'t ** your conversation be so tempered with pnidencc ** and discretion, that none may charge you with *^ being sullen, or despise you as one unfit for social ** conversation : for it is a vice to quarrel with all ** mankind, and thus to be imputed a morose and *' savage creature." It is easy to determine, that the Father compre- hends the stage under the general term of recrea- tions, by his recommending agreeable words and actions for the relaxation of the mine!. — This is the peculiar province of plays, being composed of ivitand action, such as produce delight, and recreate the mind. I do not think you will find in any other diversion words and actions thus combined together. But let us attend once more to this great scholar, *' It seems (says he) as if these players who spend •* their whole lives on the stage, did transgress the ** bounds of innocent diversion. If then excessive *' diversions be a sin (as indubitably it is) the players ^^ are in a state of sin ; and so likewise are all those 87 '* ^vho assi^l at stage rcprosentallons, and they who " ijive any thifig to them are abettors of their sin.— '' Yet this apptmrs false, for we read in the lives of " the fathers, that one day it was revealed to St. " Paphnutius^ that in the otlter life he should not *' arrive to a higlier degree of glory than a certain ^•player." J f this objection, started by St. Thomas, appears too strong, his answer is at once satisfactory, delicate, and solid. ** Diversion (adds the Doctor) being " necessary for the comfort of human life, we may *< appoint several employments for this end which " are lawful. Thus (he employment of players *i' being established to afford men an honest <* recreation, has nothing in it, in my mind, which " deserves to be prohibited ; and I do not look upon " them to be in a state of sin, provided they make " use of this sort of recreation with moderation; " neither speaking nor acting any thing which is " unlawful ; mixing nothing that is sacred with " profane ; and never acting in a prohibited time, ^* And though they may have no other employment '^ of life, like other men, yQt between them and '^ their God, they have often very serious employ- " ments — such as when they pray to their maker, *' govern their passions, and give alms to the poor. " — From hence I conclude, that those who in " moderation pay or assist them, are guilty of no " sin, but do an act of justice, since they only give 12 88 *' (hem tlie reward of their labour. But if any one " should squander his Avhole estate upon tliem, or *' countenance players who act aflcr a scandalous ^' aud unlawful way, I make no question but that " he sins, and trjves them encouragement to sin ; *< and 'tis in this sense 8t. Agustines words are to " be taken when he says. That to give ones estate " away to players^ is rather' a vice than a virtue,^* To prove that it is only the excess which ought to be condemned in all sports ami diversions, and that the holy fathers had no otlier design in declaiming a^ain4.t plays, 8t. Thorna* describes? what he means by excess, and ky^ it dowi* a» aft indispensible maxim, that evefy thing shmild be regulated according to reason, and whatever trans- gresses this rule, is to be reckoned superfliious, and that which does not come up to it defective: — " Now," continues he '' diverting words and ** actions may be regulated according to reason :— - '' The excess therefore in tliem is, when they do *^ not agree to this rule, or are defective by the " circumstances which ought to be applied to «« them." It is upon this system that we ought to return an answer to the authorities of the fathers of the church, since, according to St. Thomas, they declaim only against the excess in plays, and we shall offer Bothii'g from ourselves on this subject, but what 89 shall be in imitation of this great Doctor, who replying to owe, intends it as an answer to all, which is the case when he comments upon the observations of St. Chrjsostom. That eloquent father had said, that it was not God who was the author of sports, but the Devil ; and the more to back what he Jiad advanced, produced this passage out of holy writ ; The people sat down to eat and drink^ and rose up to play. But St. Thomas is for ha vino: those words of the great Chrysostom to be understood of excessive and immoderate sports, and he adds, that excess in play is a foolish pleasure, stiled by St. Gregory, the daughter of gluttony and sin ; and that in this sense it is written that the people sat down to eat and driuk, and rose up to play*. — This is the answer which we are to make to whatever may be objected * 1 tremble at my temerity in presuming to give an Dpliiion upon a text in so learned and venerable a company ; but we frequenlly look tor happuiess in the clouds, when it is beneath our feet — and plain unlettered sense, may somen times discover uhat the refinement of the schools will envelope w ith ni} slery . — 11 strikes me, that ihe real interpre- tation of the text is a reproach to gluttony, which they sit DOWN to enjoy — i. e. prolong it so as to make it the busi- ness of their lives — and when they rise, it is merely to trifle. Our revered Shakespeare has expressed himself upon ano- ther subject nearly in the same manner, " You rise to PLAY, and go to bed to work." R. >!• 13 90 against us out of the fafWs • and the rather, because in examinin<^ them without prejudice it is easy to perceive that if they did declaim so much agdinst the drama, it was only because in their times its expressions were criminal and immoderate ; whereas l^ad they seen it as it is now a-days in France, conformable to goodness and right reason, they would not have inveighed against it.-^But plays, as they were acted in the time of our forefathers, ivere so abominable and infamous, that those pious men could not but employ their greatest zeal a2:ainst a thing which was so very offensive to the church. For is it not the excess of plays, for instance against which TertuUian cries out*? — " Let us not" says he ** go to the theatre, which is a particular ** scene of immodesty and debauchery, where ** nothing is liked but what is disapproved else- " where; and what is thought most excellent, is *' commonly what is infamous and lewd. A player, '' for instance, acts there with the most shameful " and naked gestures ; women, forgetting the *' modesty of their sex, dare do that on the stage, "and in the view of all the world, which others would " blush to commit at home, where no body could "see them. There the most disgusting scenes are "represented by the infamous victims of public " debauchery, most wretchedly and shamefully " exposed to the view of such women as are supposed * Vide introductory letter, page 40—53. 01 ^' to be ifrnorant of* such liccnticusness. — Tliev are " there made the subject of the joung men's mirth ; " there you are directed to the place where they " reside; there they will tell you how much they ''get by their infamous trade, and tliere, in a "word, those prostitutes are commended, in the " presence of those who ought to be ignorant of all " those things. I say nothiilg (adds this father) " of what ought to be buried in eternal silcrsce, for '' fear that by barely mentioning such horrid actions " I should in some measure be guilty of them.*" But the other fathers are not so reserved as he, and make no scruple to discover all they know about it. You must not imagine that I am ambitious of * Let us hope (for the honour of human nature) that the zeal and the peculiar circuuislances of Ibe holy father* imperceptibly led them to exajjgerate the improprieties of the ancient stage. Prurient it certainly was, and repre- hensible to a lamentable extent ; yet I am inclined to think the description given by the ecclesiastics, over-charged. — Tcrtiiiiian, in the above invective, talking of the Roman youth being directed to the residence of the Cyprian fair, and being made acquainted with the profits of infamy, evidently alludes to Terence, who has generally employed a courtezan, as one of his agents for carrying on the plot. Yet however deficient Terence may be io want of moral in his pieces, (the common failing of the ancient drama) the most fastidious critic cauld not condemn him to the full extent of the father's exclamation. H. M. 92 qiiotin*: all tliey have said: Those maUers ^vhich are so freely described in another language, might prove offensive in ours; therefore I will only leave you to guess what enormities they have mentioned, by some of those lesser infamies of which I dare give an account out of their writings. Sahian was afraid to say ahy thing about it : — " Who" says he '^ can treat of those shameful ^' representations, those dishonest speeches, and of '' those lascivious and immodest actions, the " enormity and offence of which are disc.>vcrable " by that restraint which they in their own nature " impose upon us not to rehearse them ?" JLactantius is not so reserved, his most favourable thoughts about it are these: — "To what end do " those impudent actions of the players tend, but to '^ debauch the youth of the age ? Their effeminate " bodies in womens dresses, represent the most lascivious gestures of the most dissolute." And a little lower he says, '^ from the licentiousness of " speech, they proceed to that of action, &;c. &c.*" Pray be you judge whether all this can be acceptable to modesty ? * Vide iutroductory letter, page 40. Also, origin of the stage, ibid, page 16. 93 St» Cj/priarf, who, e.v professo, composed a book of public shows, describes at large all the infamous practices there. AVe may also read some- thing of that abominable custom of their appearing naked on the theatres in St. Clirjsostom.lSt. Jeroni, and St. Augustin. The jfirst of these does not scruple comparing those of his time who went to plays to David, who took pleasure in seeing Balhsheha naked in her bath, and saying that the theatre is a rendezvous of all manner of debaucheries, that 'tis full of impudence, abomination and impiety. A more modern writer (Alexander ab Alexander) describing the shows of the ancients, and especially their Bacchanalia, gives us such horrible picture* of their public infamies and prostitutions, that I should tremble to repeat them. You may imagine, Sir, there could be nothing of good m them, siuc€J the infamous HeUogabalm wus the author of some of them. But leatt you should suppose that playS were much the same as they are uoWj and that it wag only to dissuatk the faithful from frequenting the stage, that tlie fathers represented it in such frightful CQlours ; let us consult profane authors. Valerius Maximus, speaking of the detestable custom which the Romans hid of exposing upon the theatres the naked bodies of debauched women, and the naked bodies of young boys, relates of il/. P, Cato, that he being one day at those sights, and understanding, by his favourite Faxoniusyihdii out of the respect which they bore to him, the people were ashamed 94 fo d<»sire the players should appear naked on the theatre; this great man withdrew, tliat lie might not by his preseiicc hinder that which was so cus- tomary*. Seneca gives us tlic same account of Calo^ and commends him for his being unwilling to se« those debauched women naked. I dare not repeat to you the words of Lampridius, because they are too gross, wlien lie says that the Emperor Heliogabalusy who in a play represented Venus y shewed himself in a complete state of nudity, with the most impu- dent intrepidity of assurance. We also find that the public shows of the ancients were as dread- fully impious as they were immoral, " There," says St. Chrysostom, " they blaspheme the name of " God, and no sooner have the players vented a *^ blasphemous expression, but a loud applaiise ^* follows. This is what obliged the third council f' of Carthage, by a canon, to condemn players as *^ blasphemers: let not the Laicks themselves be "present at the shows, for it has been always " unlawful for any christian to go into the company " of blasphemerst," * This refers entirely to all sorls of Ludi Scenici, The Mimij Pantomimi and ^rchimimi^ but reflects bo raore dis- credit upon the flhtrioneu^ than the humours of Punch, or the butfoonery ofaclown to a horse ring, militate against the refined wit of (Polished comedy. R. M. + This corroborates what I have stnled in my " Vv.r.w. Tflu^uaTs/' that the early ivsTnucTORs in ciirislianitT 95 Now who would not cry down the stacre, if it "Were so full of itninondity and profanencss ? Tbere is no need of being one of the fathers, the light of nature is sufficient to condemn so great an excess. Thus fve read in St. Chrysostoni, '' That certain " Barbariafis having heard of those tliealral " plays, expresse(J themselves in those terms worthy " of the greatest philosophers. — " It is fit that the '' Romans, when they invented this kind of pleasure, '' should be looked upon as persons who had " neither wives nor children'." And Alcibiades, amonir other thinartj, against the expence of a theatrical establishment, art- truly ridiculous. Some will exclaim against the monejf appropriated to that use, affirming that it would be better applied if granted io a charitable institution. Others dwell upon the absurdity of gratifying imaginary pleasures, when ceal enjoy ment could be'so well purchased by fu rnishingBibles and Missionaries for our modern crusade*. Yet I have known several of those liberal, considerate gentlemen, con- tentedly enjoying from five hundred to two thousand a year. And what is very extraordinary, not one of them seemed to think his income more than sufficient for his own immediate wants. I believe it to be a rare instance, their refusing another living, or an estate, upon the plea that the oile they possessed was more than sufficient to satisfy the real demands of nature. Let all the rich shake off the superflux of wealth, for the relief of the mendicant, and who would not be a beggar I R, M. 101 particularly in liis letter to Possidonius, St, Cyprian quoted both by St. Augustin, St. Gregory, i— in short all the fathers have warmly declairnecl ugaiast *h«?- luxury and richness of apparel ; sometikrica exciting^ us to follow the example of St. John the Baptist, who, for the austerity of his life, was so highly commended by our Saviour. And yet we find that they did not raise so many doubts of conscience in men's minds upon this score, as they did upon the account of stage-plays ; and none made a scruple eitlicr of wearing habits suitable to their quality, nor of living at ease, provided they did it within the compass of modesty and moderation. Wliy then should we not extend this indulgence to the drama, and aifirm, that the reproaches of the doctors of the church are applicable to luxury, intemperance and prodigality, but not to the innocent and moderate use of the good things of this life. So we may interpret their words of immoral and profane plays, but not of those that do not transgress the rules of prudence and morality, " To prove," says Alhertus Magnus, " that *' the scripture does not condemn plays, dancing '^ and shows, considered singly, and without those '* offensive circumstances which make them con- *' demnable, do not we read in Exodus, That *' Miriam the Prophetess, the sister of Jaron^ " took a timbrel in her hand, and all the women went K3 m ^^ outxtfier her with timbrels and with dancing? <« Ex. 15, 20; Does not the Royal Prophet (Psal. *:^68, '^3—27) siiy That Benjamin was among ^' fhe daWisels who 'played with timbrels? — Nay, *' does not God himself, by the mouth of Jeremiah, *^ Chap. 31, V. 4, promise the Jews, that upon ** their return from Chaldee, they should play upon *' timbrels, and go forth in the dances of them that ** make merry?* Therefore dances and pleasures ** are not in themselves sinful, or unlawful, but *' made so by the criminal circumstances added to *' them : and I would not enjoin a penitent to ** abstain from them, since God himself not only *^ permits, but promises them." And indeed, take away the excess which may possibly creep into dramatic representations, and I know no harm in them : for it is a kind of speaking picture, ■wherein are represented histories or fables, for the diversion, and very often for the instru<5tion of men. * To these instances might have been added, the parable of " The Prodigal Son." And they began to be merry. J^'ovo his elder son was in the fields^ and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. Luke 15. Y. 24—25. This little DRAMA, delivered by our blessed Saviour, evidently proves he did aot object to mirth and music H.M. 103 Hitherto we find nothing amiss in the design of the stage ; but perhaps its enemies will object, that it must needs be bad, however, because it is prohibited. I protest, Sir, I never yet thought the prohibition of any thing made it sinful, but on the contrary, the viciousness of it made it to be prohibited. But let us consult tliose places of scripture which seem to forbid plays, and such like exhibitions, and try to explain them, not as we please, but by the words of the greatest Doctors. Albertus Magnus^ who has collected all those passages, shall give us the explanation of them. The first which he mentions is that of St. Paul, who seems to reduce all those sports to immodesty ; for the Apostle, exhorting men to avoid that sin, expresses himself thus, 1. Cor. 10. as some of them fell into impurity, of whom it is written, The people sat down to eat and drink, and rose up to plai/,^ The second is taken out of Exonusf , Chap. S§, where we find that dances were first invented before idols ; and by this they prove that it is an idolatrous institution, to excite men to impurity. The third is that of Isaiah, Chap. 3. who in the name of God denounces great threatenings against those * Vide p. 8, 9. + Vide p. 82. 104 kind of sports : Because the daughters of Zion are haughty^ and walk forth with stretched forth necks and wanton eyes^ walking and tripping as they go and making a tinkling with their feet; therefore the Lord will smite with a scab the crown of the head of the daughters of Zion, 4x. And lastly, it is pretended that St. Paul includes all public sights in those famous words (I. Thess. 5, 22,) Abstain from all appearance of evil. But Albertus Magnus, to all those passages, thus replies. " That *' dancing, &c. though not in their own nature evil, *' may become so by being attended with those " unhappy circumstances which St. Paul is to be *' understood to speak of. — That it is false io assert '* that the Jews never danced but before idols. It •' has been done upon other occasions ; witness '' Miriam the sister of Moses and Aaron, whom we *' formerly mentioned. God reproves by the *' mouth of his prophet, only those impudent <^ gestures with which the dances of the Jews were " sometimes attended. And lastly. That St. Paul " forbids the appearance of real evil, and not of *' that which may become so by accident and *' untoward circumstances." But you will say, if plays are good in themselves, why are the actors of them noted with infamy in Justinian's " Institutes" s Pray let me ask you a question or two. Does that soldier sin who runs away in battle for fear of beuig killed ? or does 105 a young widow, who cannot live single, comniit a mortal sin by marrying a second husband before her year is up ? Yet the same book brands both of them with infamy, and a tliousand other persons whose actions are not criminal. It is therefore a very weak consequence to prove the sinfulness of an action because it is noted as infamous. Suppose it true that the players become infamous by acting on the stage, I would fain know why the youth of the universities, and other persons, very prudent, and sometimes of the best quality, who, for their ofWn diversion, and without scandal, act parts ia a play, are not as infamous as the common players ?* I hope none will say, it is because the latter act to get by it, whereas the others do it for diversion, foF that is a very wretched argument. Suppose any action to be evil in itself, what signifies whether a man gets by it or not ? It will still be evil, and no circumstance can alter its nature. — For as a perjured man, or a calumniator. * We must bear in remembrance that Father CafFaro lived and wrote in France, where the profession of an actor was considered so ofiensive, as even to deprive him of llie rites of christian burial. Under our happy government and tolerant ecclesiastical establishment, we know no such absurd, degrading, invidious distinctions. If indeed a certain sect was paramount, the players would then be persecuted while living, and when dead, their '* monumcnta would be the raaws of Kilea." R. M. 106 branded with infamy by the kw, will be always infamous, let them be in what circumstances soever, so plays cannot be represented upon any occasion or motive whatever, without incurring the stain of infamy which you say is cast upon it, But to understand the meaning of the laws, it is requisite to have recourse to those Doctors who have expounded them. Pray see what the famous Baldus says on this subject, '* The players who *' act in a modest way, either to divert themselves " or please others, and who commit nothing against *' good-manners, are not to be reputed infamous." You perceive then, according to tliis commentator, that the infamy falls only on those who act infamoug plays. Since time changes every thing, rational men will judge tlie subject as it is, not as it was. Were not the physicians turned out of Rome as infamous persons ?* And in the esteem they are now held, is there the least mark of their infamy left ? Why then should any reflection remain to stigmatize a laudable and ingenious profession, which in Fnuice (and perhaps elsewhere) is become rather the school of virtue than tliat of vice ? The reason why players formerly were declared infamous, was from the infamy so predominant in the plays which they * Vide" Free Thoughts*" 107 ticie(}, ami tlie infamy wlHch lliey lliemsclves added to it by their dissolute lives. And now, since that cause is removed, its consequences indu- bitably should be abolished. If any consequences are to be drawn from this happy chan:^e, it is that plays bein«2^ altogether unblaineable, those who act them, provided tliey live honestly, shouhl not bfc reckoned amon<^ the number of dishonourable persons. This is so far true, tiiat the being a player does not degrade any man's quality. Floridor, who is said to have been the greatest player France ever had, being a gentleman by birth, was not judged unworthy of that title upon the account of his profession. When inquiry was made about the false noblesse, he was admitted by the king and council to make out the truth of his, which, by right of inheritance, descended to his posterity. Those of the Opera, if born gentle- men, are not (by the institutes granted to that musical accademy) to lose their quality. Now, are there prerogatives for the one which are not to be allowed to the other ? And if there be any distinction between them, have not all ages deter- mined it in favour of comedy, since by the consent of all nations, poetry is the elder sister of music ? You say, several Doctors (or at least such as pretend to be so) have shewn you certain rituals which forbid the confessors to administer the sacraments to players, which they confirm by the 108 authority of several councils. To this I answer, jtliat those rituals, and the canons of those councils, only mean it of such players who act scandalous pieces, or who act themselves immodestly. But let those people tell you what difference they make be- tween stage-plays and other kind of sports; for as to the rituals, the canons, the councils, &c. they make none, but equally prohibit them all. Yet your Doctors, who talk so loudly of the fathers and the councils, do not scrupulously follow their decisions ai^ainst gaming and other sports. We find that abbots, priests, bishops and ecclesiastics make no difficulty of playing, and pretend that all the censures of the Fathers ought to be understood of the EXCESS in sports, and not of those which are moderate, and used without much application, to pass away a Little time. Why then should not the same thing be urged, and the same indulgence allowed in behalf of plays, since we find such a dispensation with respect to other sports ? Besides should you ask the bishops and prelates what they think of plays, they would declare, that when they are modest, and have nothing in them which wounds morality and Christianity, they do not pretend to censure them. And even if they were silent in the case, one may guess at their opinion by their conduct, since in those very diocesses where those severe rituals are used, plays are acted, tolerated, and perhaps approved. If they are bad, why are they tolerated ? As they are acted at Paris, 109 I see no fault in them. It is Iriie, I cannot pass a definitive judgment upon tliera, since I never go to see them : but there are three very easy modes of knowing what is done at the theatres ; and I acknowledge tliat I liave made iise of all three. The first is, to inform one self of it by men of sense and probity, who, out of that liorror they have to sin, would not allow themselves to be present at those exhibitions, if sinful. The next is, to judge, by the confessions of those who go thither, of the evil effects which plays produce upon their minds. The third is, the reading of the plays : — And I protest, by these ways I have not been able to discover the least appearance of the excess which the Fathers with so much justice condemned in plays. Numerous persons of eminent virtue, and of a very nice, not to say scrupulous conscience, have been forced to own to me, that the plays on the French theatre are at present so pure, that there is nothinoc in them which can offend the chastest car. Every day at court, the bishops, cardinals, and nuncios of the pope make no scruple to be present at them ; and it would be no less impudence than folly, to conclude that all those great prelates are profane libertines, since they authorise the crime by their presence. It is rather a proof that the plays are so pure and regular, that none need be ashamed or afraid to see them. I have likewise L 110 sometimes made a reflection, (which to me seems of some weight) on seeing the bills posted up at the corners of the streets, announcing plays acted by the King's authority, and by his Majesty's servants. I naturally conceived, if they invited people to some bad action, or to infamous places, &c. the magistrates would be so far from allowing the publication of those bills, as to punish severely those who had the temerity to abuse the king's authority, by inviting his subjects to the commission of such enormities. From which I draw the conclusion, that plays are not vicious, since the magistrates do not put them down, nor the prelates make any opposition to them ; and they are acted by the privilege of a religious prince, who would not by his presence authorise a crime, of which he would be more guilty than others. As to confessions*, I could never by their means * The CONFESSIONS of '* The Methodists" not bein«f auricular, but publicly delivered at their band-meetings and love-feasts, they have a fairer opportunity of exposing this destructive influence attributed to the stage. — Yet I have never met, in the whole course of ray methodislical reading, any instance of the ruin of the soul being laid to the charge of the theatre only, but merely as an adjunct in the vain pomps and glories of the world. The " Methodist Magazine" will furnish us with many proofs that the love of the drama is one of the most Ill find out this pretended mischief of plays; for if it were the source of so many crimes, it would from thence follow that the rich, who frequent the theatres, woukl be tlie greatest sinners : — and yet we find that the poor who never saw a play, are as guilty as the'rich of anger, revenge, uncleanncss and pride. I would therefore rather conclude, and that with some reason too, that those sins are the effects of human weakness or malice, which take an occasion of sinning from all manner of objects indifferently. As to the reading of the plays which are now acted in France, I never could find, in those I have perused, any thing which could in the most distant manner offend Christianity or good -manners. The greatest fault that could be found with them is, that most of the subjects are taken out of fables 5 and yet wliat harm is there in that ? " They are '' such fables out of which may be taken very fine " instructions of morality, capable of inspiring men ^' with a love of virtue, and a detestation of vice/* These are the words of a very great man (Peter, Bishop of Blois) who maintains, = " that it is difficult things to eradicate from the minds of several of their new proselytes. — And I have often sighed, when I have viewed in imagination, the last expiring spark of genius, absorbed in the chliling gloom of contracted ignorance. L2 1 12 '* lawful to extract truths out of heathen fables, '* and that it is no more than receiving arms from our very enemies.'^ To leave nothing unresolved, let us examine the precautions ^vhich the doctors give us, in going to a play. As to the lawfuhiess of the Drama, St. Thomas, St. Honaventure, St. Antonine, and above all Albertus Magnus lias said, that in all sports we should take care of three things. The first is, that we sliould not seek for pleasure in immodest words or actions, as they did in the times of the ancients, an unhappy custom which Cicero laments in these words: '' There is a kind of jesting which is ♦'sordid, insolent, wicked and obscene." The second thing we are to take care of, says Albertus, is, that when we would refresh our spirits,we should not entirely lose the gravity of the soul, which gives St. Ambrose occasion to say, '' Let us beware, " lest in giving our spirits some relaxation, we '' lose the harmony of our souls, where the virtues '' form an agreeable concert." And the third condition required in our sports, as well as in all the other actions of our lives, is, that they be suitable to the person, time, and place, and regulated by all the other circumstances which may render them inoffensive. It would be easy for me to prove that none of these qualifications are wanting to the plays, as they are in France ; from whence you ouglit to cojiclude, that they are good and allowable. 113 After all I have said for plays, you cannot 4gucstion but they should be such as are free fron* all irn modest speeches and actions. You have told me yourself, that the players are very careful m tliis point, and that they would not so much as suffer, when tliey accept of any piece, that it should have any thing in it indecent, licentious, equivocal, or the least word under which any poison might be concealed. We have very severe laws in France against blasphemers, they are bored through the tongue, they are condemned even to be burned ; and should we caress the players, or give them any privilege if tlicy were blasphemers, libertines, or profligates I ' " We own,"^ say our Reformers, " that they " dare not openly speak any thing that is profane, ^* nor act upon the stage tliose infamies which were ^' formerly acted there, but there is still something '^ remaining of its primitive coiruption, disguised '' under gay names. Is there any play acted now, '' where there is not some love-intrigue or other ? " Where the passions are not represented in all " their light ? Where mention is not made of " ambition, jealousy, revenge and hatred. A u dangerous school for youth, where they ara ^^ easily disposed to raise real passions in tlieir ^' hearts, by seeing feigned ones represented! >r- ^' The first duty of a christian is to suppress hi* L3 114 j^rpassions, and not to expose himself to the growth '' of them : and by a necessary consequence, fS nothing is more pernicious than that which is f^\ capable of exciting them." A fine speech this for a rigid declaimer, but not sound enough for an equitable divine ! Is there no difference, think you, ^between an action or a word which may by accident raise the passions, and those which do it in reality ? The last are absolutely unlawful and sinful, and though it might happen that a man might be unmoved by them ; yet we are obliged to avoid them, because it is only by chance that they produce not their effect, whereas in their own nature they are always attended with pernicious consequences. But for those words and actions "which may by accident raise the passions, we cannot justly condemn them, and we must even i3y to deserts to avoid them, for we cannot walk a step, read a book, enter a church, or live in the world, without meeting with a thousand things capable of exciting the passions. Most a woman because she is handsome never go to church, for fear of exciting the desires of the debauchee ? Must the great in icourts, and the magistrates lay aside that splendour which is becoming, and perhaps necessary to ihem, for fear of exciting ambition and a desire of riches in others? Must a man never wear a sword for 115 fear of being guilty of murder? This would be ridiculous! Under those circumstances, if by misfortune a scandal happens^ and an occasion of sin be taken, it is a passive, not an active scandal, — pardon those school terms. It is an occasion taken^ not given ^ which kind alone we are ordered to avoid, for as to the first it is impossible to avoid \iy and sometimes to foresee it. All histories (not excepting the bible) make use of such words as express the passions, and relate great actions, of which they have been the cause. And will it be a crime to read history, because we may there meet with something which may be an occasion of our falling ? — l&y no means, unless it be a scandalous, profane, and loose history, such a one as will infallibly stir up dangerous passions, and then it is no longer an occasion taken but given. But this is not the character of our plays, for though they speak of love, hatred, ambition and revenge, it is not done with an intention of exciting those passions in the audience*, * Here is another proof that the stage adversaries have never shifted their ground ; they still proceed in the same inonsterous mode of attack ; they will novo imperiousty demaiid — " Is there a leading hero in a play which any •* christian should consider as a mode! to be observed, or an «* example to be followed ?" Ridiculous ! Othello, Hamlet, Macbeth, Richard, Lear, and Romeo are nut intended by 116 iior are there any^uch scandalous circumstance* in them, as will infallibly produce such mischievous effects in their minds. Besides, as the wise Ly curgus said, '' Shall we destroy all the vines, '' because some men get drunk with the juice of the grape ?'* An ill use has and may be made of the most sacred things, such as the holy scriptures, and consequently of the mo§t indifferent and least serious : yet neither the one nor the other ought to be forbidden, unless we would forbid every thing that may be put to an ill use* As to the second qualification which (mt casuists require in sports, which is to avoid breaking; the poet as examples to folfow^ but beacons to warn against jealousy, melancholy, revenge, aiubilion, cruelty, cun»- liing, paternal iiijustice, and filial disobedience. The- heroes are all punished for their various dereiictions frojP' virtue — but not one becomes an object foi' imitation. We may even sympathise wilh Othello, weep with Hamlet, admire the martial tirmness of Macbeth, the cournge and address of Richard; lament the madness of Lear, and regret the fate of Jlonieo,^ without a wish to imitate any one of the characters. We find the dramatist expressly telling us the fatal consequences attendant upon jealousy^ ambition, cruelty, revenge, injustice, an4 even love itself, if carried beyond the bounds of duty. To prevent any possibility of mistaking bis moraJ, he punishes them all vitb death. Now none but a madman would imitate a character uoder tuch a severe penalty. B* M. 117 the harmony of the soul by the excess and length of our pleasures; it may be said that neither those who compose them, nor those who act them, so far unbend their minds as to destroy that just disposition of soul. As for the first, they have liberty to go or stay away ; and after a days labour, two hours of refreshment may be allowed. As for the authors and players, whose profession seems to be one continued diversion, they do not certainly look upon their lives to be a play, since they have other serious business, in providing for and supporting their families, besides the common duties of christians to perform. As for the circumstance of time, of which our casuists would have us take care, it is observed in France, where they never act but at proper hours. One of the things against which the Fathers declaimed the most, was the time of acting the plays ; they lasted tlie whole day, and people had scarce any time to go to church. Thus St. Chrysostom complains : '' That the christians in '' his time, and in his diocess, did not only go to *' plays, but were so intent upon them that they " staid whole days at those infamous sight's* without "going one moment to church." St. John, of Damascus, condemned the same excess in these words, " There are several towns where the inhabi- " tants are from morning to night feasting their " eyes with all manner of sights, and in hearing 118 *' always immodest songs, wliich cannot cLuse bikfe " raise in their minds wicked desires." Is there any thing like this to be found in our plays ? They begin at five or six o'clock when divine service is over, the prayers and sermcui ended ; when the church doors are shut, and people have had time enough to bestow on business and devotion, — and they end about eight or nine. As for the circumstance of places, it is observed in France; — formerly they acted in churches, bui now they have public theatres for the purpose. The circumstance of the persons is also observed, for those who act are civil people, who have undertaken the employ, and generally behave themselves in it with decency; at least there aro as few ill men among them as in other professions 2 their vices arise from their own corrupt nature, and not from the stete or calling they are in, since all men are like them. 1 have conversed, and am PARTICULARLY ACQUAINTED WITH SOME O? THEM, WHO, OUT OF THE THEATRE, AND IN THEIR OWN FAMILIES, LIVE THE MOST EXEM- PLARY LIFE IN THE WORLD*. YoU haVC told *How Doctors differ! a Doctor Withcrspoon in a letter upoa Play-Actors^ sajs — '* For ray own part, I would no ** more hold communication with a master of the Circus " than a manager of the Theatre, Aad I shuu Id be sorry 119 me yourself, that all of them in general, out of their common stock, contribute a considerable sum to pious and charitable uses, of which the ma<^istrates and superiors of the convents couU] give sulhcient testimony. I question whether we can say as much of those zealous persons who inveigh so loudly against them. I am conscious, Sir, that some people will blame me for having followed the most flivourable opinion concerning plays, for it is now the Hishion to teach an austere doctrine, and not to practice it, but I assure you, I have been solely governed by truth, wishing still to observe that Father's rule wlio directs us to form our actions by the most severe opinions, and our doctrine by the most indulirent. I am, Sir, Yours, &c. *' to be thought to have any intimacy with either the one ** or the other." — But the saj^ncious Doctor has contrived to brin^ in Lord Chesterfield, as a party Joinin;:^ in the condemnation of Opera performers and musicians!— How ? — or why ? — Because he tells his son " that to be " always fiddling and playing, h not consistent with the *' character of a genlleraan." O Witherspoon! Wilhersooon! sapient Witherspoonl jiving or dead. Hail to thee, Witherspoon! ! R. M. "&' 120 FREE THOUGHTS UPON Methodists^ Actors^ and the Influence of the Stage. ADVERTISEMENT. I MUST openly and candidly inform my readers, that they will occasionally find in the subsequent pages ex- pressions which policy cannot warrant, nor prudence justify. But " I am whipped and scourged with rods, nettled and stung with pismires, when I think of the many provocations we have received from some certain Several of my friends, who honoured my manuscript with a perusal, suggested to me the impropriety of approaching, if not entering, the province of abuse, at the very moment I am condemning my opponents for their frequent excursions to the same disgraceful resource*. I daringly mention this to shew, that if I am erring, it is wilfully, and I shall probably add to Vide Introductory Letter, page 9. 121 the offence, by not only avowing my knowledge of it, but by openly justifying the measure. The arrears of two centuries*, from a long unsettled account, which I much regret some of my predecessors did not balance at former periods, and thus have added another instance in favour of the good old adage. " that short reckoning makes long friends." However, since the office of accomptant-gcneral, has fallen toj[ny lot, it is my wisli to re-pay our accusers and abusers, partly in their own coin. I confess myself incompetent to the task of making up the whole sum, but whatever deficiency there may be found on this score, I trust will be more than compensated for by aa overplus of reason, candour, and justice. I have been conscientious in striking the balance, and. bi/ the soul of Cocker^ I believe every item ad- vanced in my statement to be strictly correct. In this wordy war, let it be clearly understood, that I do not consider myself as the aggressor, on the contrary, my profession is daily — hourly annoyed by an enemy armed like wild Indians, with poisoned darts, tomahawks, and kimes+! — What weapon cau * Vide Introductory Letter, page 9. f Vide Edinburgh Review, April, 1809, page 46. M 122 I wield against such adversaries ? — The sharpened in- struments of wit, satire, and ridicule, have beea frequently exercised in vain against the desultory attacks of these demi maniacs. The weapons must have been ill directed, they must have been pointed at their heads or their hearts, the former of which is impenetrable, and the latter invulnerable. However, could I even guide them with more effect, such polished arms I cannot boast; a good homely cudgel is the most respectable epithet I can venture to bestow upon " Free Thoughts," but I trust it will be found of sufficient powers to turn the edge of their '' kimes,'* ere they <;an totally destroy its action. 123 FREE THOUGHTS, &c. It is n matter of astonishment in this age of novelty-hunting, when. we liave been informed that virtues are vices, and have pursued vices as if they were virtues : — when emancipation, reform, free- dom and equality are the v^atch-wordsof theday. — It is somewhat extraordinary no one has started for the honour of elevating the stage to its proper level, and disencumbering the professors from the fetters forged for them in the dark days of ignorance and superstition. The Pagafi African found advocates amongst all ranks, all persuasions; even in the most rigid of our sectaries, who maugre selfishness, apathy, contempt of fine feelings, and detestation of poetical embellishments, extended their sympathy over the bosom of the Atlantic, exaggerated the sufferings of their client, by fancifully decorating the unen- lightened savage with refined sensations, delicacy of feeling, and mental aggravations, such as the highest polish of society alone can give. Yet those very people would ridicule the idea of st M2 124 sensitive mind, in their own country, lacerated and writhing under tlie scourge of pride, exercised by the hand of prejudice. If (liey were to draw a comparison between the sable slave and the itinerant player, it would be considerably to the disadvantage of the latter ; for they would coolly calculate upon manual labour on the one side, and (what they would deem) trilling pursuits on the other. When I say no one has endeavoured to raise THE STAGE to its just elcvatiou, I do not mean to assert tliat it is without its supporters, or champions, No — I have no doubt that their numbers would equal that of its assailants : — but I must add, they too servilely follow the steps of each other. Echo follows echo, in dull monotonous line. — Opinions of councils and senates; fathers of the church and heathen philosophers, are all set forth in battle array, one against the other, authority against authority, and the suffrages of the dead are called for, to decide a question essential only to the living. The stage accusers bray forth the evil tendency of *' The Beggars Opera," the idle story of Doctor FaustuSj and a hundred other groundless absurdities. The stage defender hurls back the powerful con- version worked by the tragedy of George Barnwell; the discovery of a murder by the acting of a piece called "Friar Francis," and many other puerilities. 125 The only difTerencc I have been able to perceive between the two parties, is this That bigotry generally sides with the enemies to the stage; consequently there is there a greater degree of ignorance, a larger portion of absurdity, and joined with an ardent, rancorous zeal to effect the object. Its supporters, being mostly men of a liberal turn of mind, enter upon the subject calmly, armed Tvitli no other weapons than antiquated authorities, and not wielding them with a proportioned enthusiasm to the malignants ^ their defence seems at best but lukewarm. Neither party is disposed to quit the old, worn-out system of warfare, and by more extensive excursions, arrive at victory or defeat ! — Few seem to have thought for themselves upon the subject, but all appear cramped, and enveloped in the opinions of others. Let none imagine that I have the presumption to think myself equal to the task of emancipating my brethren from the ill effects of a prejudice of which we have all so much cause to complain ; or, that I have the temerity to start fot the honour of being their champion — No — but fifteen years of experience and bitter reflection on the thouglitless cruelty of society, have compelled me to obtrude myself upon the public, with the hopes of stimulating genius and philanthropy to second my endeavours, by supporting, fostering, vindicating and encou- raging a liberal, though injured profession. M3 126 The profession whicli produced and nourished the genius of a Shakespeare! — Shall it be attacked by ignorance, illiberality, and calumny, and be in want of shields, to ward off the poisonous, mis- directed shafts of such contemptible adversaries. The profession, which has been adorned by the aid of the immortal Shakespeare, the divine Milton, the christian Addison, the pious Young, and the moral Johnson! — Shall it be overpowered by retired monks, enthusiastic visionaries, unlettered bigots, and brainless sectaries? — Oh no! — Depress it they may! — Destroy it! — Impotent attempt! — The viper and the file, snow balls against adamant, phosphoric lights to extinguish the meridian sun beam, can alone typify the absurdity ! — I have no apprehension about its extinction, I would only deprecate the unmerited censure heaped upon those, who embrace its pursuits. To expose the fallacy of that censure, I lay myself open to the sneer of unfeeling ignorance, the contemptuous smile of cold-hearted apathy, the base attacks of malevolence in its worst shape. All this, I shrink not from ; but, when I take into the account, the ordeal of criticism. — I own myself a coward — I suspect my powers — and am more than half inclined to resign the daring bold attempt. How- ever, as I have not taken up my pen with the ridi- culous vanity of anticipating either fame or profit*. * The late /far/ic<;? soi-desant prophet Huntingdon sa> 9 " God enabled me to put out several little books, which 127 as I am prompted by a heart-felt conviction of being an injured party ; and, as I am vieW satisfied with the rectitude of my intentions, sh
e " profane temples." 8t. Paul was on the jwiiit of being (perhaps) murdered in one, but he never breathes an exclamation against the institution, or its principles I These proofs are, in my opinion^ more than sufficient to overwhelm all the arguments presented by all the cavillers, opposers and objectors to a theatre that ever existed. Wliat, I would ask, are the fables, the apologues, and the parables of the ancients * J Are they not dramas? Do we not find in them tlie different characters speaking and acting according to their various dispositions ? Are they not made up of tlie virtuous, the vicious, the cunning, the simple, the miser, the spendtliirft, the luxurious rich, the abject poor; in short, all the degrees, conditions, vices, virtues, passions, affections, feelings, incident to human nature? Tliey were delivered by one speaker, certainly, yet the formation, end and design are the same; by an agreeable, innocent fiction, to arrest the attention of the careless, and by imperceptible degrees, guide ills steps towards wisdom and virtue. * But without a parable spake he not unto them. Mark c. iv. 34, 141 Would the book of Job* become less valuable if the characters of the mau of Uz, his wife, EUphaz, Bildad and Zophar were to be recited by diiFerent speakers capable of giving effect to the importance of their several situations aud dispo- sitions ? I feel a conviction it would not : and even if you could, by the auxiliary aid of rausict and painted canvas, induce the heedless and thoughtless to ponder on the serious moral of a pious * Whether this extraordinary victim to misery, suffering, and punishment, was really an inhabitant of this earth, or only created out of the poet's imagination, is a point stiii in suspense with the various commentators on the Bible. Many of them consider the book of Job, in the light of a drama; and from the superior excellence of the moral, consistency of the characters, sublimity of thought, and simplicity of stile, it evinces strong evidence of emanating from the first order of genius. Some of the interpreters and expounders of scripture, have, with a great degree of seeming probability, attributed its composition to Moses. Shrink ye not, fanatics, at the profanation — what! — the sacred law-giver a dramatist! — Be not alarmed; could we give you many such specimens of sublimity and dignity- mole-eyed and beetle-headed as ye are, the Drama must have commanded your approbation and support, and per- haps been as much an object of your idolatry as it is now of your haired. — Ye know no medium. + And they began to be merry. Now his elder son was in the field, and as he came and drew nigh to the house, he heard music and dancing. Luke c. XV. V. 24, 25.. \ 142 resignation to the dispensations of providence, you would be doing society at large a singular service. If the beverage be wholesome, never hesitate tasting, because the cup is embossed. I have not the most distant wish for the stage to intrench upon the duties of the pulpit ; still further from ray thoughts, be every intention of disrespect to the clergy. Nor would I presume to raise my profession at the expense of a body, whose sacred function entitles it to the reverence and esteem of all the virtuous. Men, who by the aid of the gospel, can give eyes to the blind, feet to the lame, health to the sick, wisdom to the ignorant, comfort to the afflicted, and happiness to all. The advo- cates at the throne of mercy, the pleaders to divine grace, for the frailties, errors, and imperfections of their wretched fellow-creatures. But let the drama second the efforts of the pulpit, and though an humble assistant, it will be found capable of being made an active and powerful ally in the great cause of virtue. Many blend the improprieties of the stage with the thing itself, and, because there is an exuberance, the whole must be extirpated. If the objection depended merely upon the improprieties of the stage, with pleasure would I give my feeble aid to the exposure of them, loudly would I raise my voice for the extinction of them, and gladly would I 143 immolate at tlie sbriiie of ofFended decency, every line repugnant to modesty, morality and virtue. The stage, if left to its own bias, must ever fall in with tlie predominant taste of its admirers, hut properly governed, it will become a guide instead of a follower, and act as a firm opposer to every improper public feeling and sentiment. The drama participates strongly in the genius it emanates from, and is supported by— poesy. It therefore loves witli fervour, and hates with energy. Tlie tender husband, the affectionate wife, the rational parent, the dutiful child, the constant lover, the mild prince, tlie loyal suliject, the pious priest ; in short, the truly gooil, religious, moral, and vir- tuous, are the objects of its warmest attachment; it decks them out in their own native beauteous colours, sounds forth their praise, and cherishes them as its most darling favourites. But, woe! woe! woe! to their opposites ! The jealous husband, the inconstant wife, the cruel father, the abandoned son, the perjured lover, the tyrannical prince, the revolting subject, the liypocritical priest, all become loathsome, and it punislies them to the utmost extent of poetical It was with extreme regret I read Miss Baillie's objection to lashionablc comedy, upon the plea of 144 its encourairing disrespect to parents, aiul weakening tlie ties of filial obedience. She says, '' The moral " tendency of it is very faulty; that mockery of *' age and domestic authority, so constantly held " forth, has a very bad effect upon the younger part " of an audience." — With all possible deference \o Miss Baillie, I cannot but consider tliis objection inadmissible. Foolish, weak and wicked parents are held up to derision and contempt; and so are obstinate, perverse and Milful children, They are equally injurious to the well-being of society, and therefore fair objects for satire. Nor can I conceive the claims of the parents to 'exemption ; on the contrary, I think they more richly merit exposure and reprobation : for the follies and aberrations of the children arc, too frequently, the consequence of the vices and weaknesses of those beings who expect reverence and esteem in exchange for imbecility and vice. Affection, respect and attention to virtuous parents, can be no where more strongly enforced than on the stage : in fact, it is one of the most imperious ties implanted in the human breast: it would be, therefore, strange indeed, if the dramatic writers, of all others, would not avail themselves of a principle capable of producing eflect, interest and sympathy. I scarcely remember a play where the filial and parental ties (with the above exceptions) are not placed in the most amiable point of view. If there are harsh, tyrannical, passionate, unreasonable, selfish, cruel. 14 parents in nature. Why should the mere honour of giving life to their oppressed offspring, shelter them from the indignation of the satirist, or protect them from the punishment due to their errors and absurdities? plays would indeed be culpable, if they were to be swayed by such incongruous par- tialities. The respect for age, and the veneration for parents, so strongly inculcated and elucidated by numerous instances in the page of history, did not originate in the mere name of sire, or the appear^ ance of silvered age; but, from the wisdom, virtue, and propriety of the seniors*. * ** If many b(>>s are by the original energy of nature, " and the gracious discipline of providence, enabled lo *' outgrow the futile habits of their early years; no thanks *' to those WICKED or foolish parents, who did every thin^ " to spoil them. Ah, ye mothers of Britain, what a mighty " task is yours! Of what superlative importance to the *' happiness of mankind ! How much have those of you to ** answer for, whose fantastic fondness has, from the very " days in which you ought to have laid the foundation of " virtue and glory, entailed corruption and dishonour on t* your offspring. How different from the mothers of " antiquity, who, having bred their sons to every thing ** manly and heroic, were accustomed when they went out " to fight for their country, — (that great predominating " object to which all others gave way in their^affections,)— *' to charge them either to come back victorious, or to be *' brought back dead, chusing rather that they should not ** live than live in shame." Fordyce*s Addresses to Young Men. o 146 That the stage has defects, loud, crying defects, I am willing to acknowledge, but they are only excrescences, they disgrace the trunk, but they cannot vitiate it ! It has sufficient strength to permit their eradication, and flourish with ten-fold vigour! But I trust it will be in my power to prove, tliat even in its present state, it is not composed of the deleterious qualities which bigotry, fanaticism, and ignorance, would endeavour to persuade us it is. I deem a review of the lives of its principal professors to be a fair and justifiable mode of proving its tendency to morality, or its inclination to impu- rity. If the stage tends to corrupt and debase a nation, the players must, of all people, be the most depraved and infamous! Probably you will say, *' That the agent merely administering poison, feels noneof the effects." True — but if he be obliged to swallow his share of tlie baneful dose, he must participate in the fatal consequences. Let us com- mence our review, at the period when our stage was emerging from barbarism, when it had shaken off the impieties of " the mysteries," the absurdities of '^ the moralities;" when, like a summer's morn, preparing for the glorious effulgence of the sun, it dawned for the appearance of our great theatrical luminary ! Still the theatre (if it might so be called) was even then in a most abject, a most degraded abasement. Not a single dramatic piece, produced previous to Shakespeare's plays, holds a situation 147 upon the present existing stage; — tliey are only to be found in the libraries of the curious*. All the inference to be drawn from the depression of the stage, at tlie period I have mentioned — is — that poverty and infamy compose a fruitful soil for tlie nourishment of every vice ! To a society, in this despicable state, the young, the thoughtless Shake- speare, flew for shelter. An outcast from his country, branded with theft, and armed with graceless audacity to ridicule the magistrate whom he had injured ; thrown upon the world without a friend or adviser; from this debased body he courted support ! — To this sink he flew for refuge ! AVhat a sanctuary for a being of his description ! — What a seminary for the improvement of his talents ! — With such an auxiliary, possessing such wonderful endowments, such abandoned propen- sities, what were the players not capable of effecting in the cause of vice ? Did they employ their new ally, their powerful agent, in the subversion ot virtue, the corruption of morality, the degradation of religion ? Let applauding millions answer, an admiring world reply ! — —His future progress unblemished! — His character unsullied ! — His death * One of the first regular comedies extant, in the English language, *' Gammer Gorton's Needle," was written by a clergyman, Dr. Still, successively roaster of St. John's and Trinity Colleges, Cambridge, and afterwards Bishop of Batk and Wells, 02 148 a nation's loss! — His life a nation's pride! — His grave marked by mrdioe, as one of the few spots, Avbere she can gain no footing*! — His memory and Lis works can only perish, wlien " The cloud-capt towers, the gorgeous palaces, ** The solemn temples — the great globe itself — ** Yea all which it inherit shall dissolve, ** And, like the baseless fabric of a vision, *' Leave not a wreck behind V* Many of his dramatic contemporaries have been Landed down to posterity, marked with some pleasing trait, reflecting credit on their different characters. One of his brother comedians and particular friends, Alleyn, founded a college at Dulwich, for the relief of a certain number of old persons, where, to this day, age and poverty retura thanks to heaven for ease and comfort, through the benevolence of a profane stage-player. From * A modern vandal has hatl the impudent assurance to stigmatise him as a libertine; and asks with unparelled effrontery. " What loss could society possibly have ** experienced, if the bard had never been called into "existence?" When I first read this vamper of Collier — this furbisher up of old weapons, from the armoury of puri- tanical anti-stagers; 1 felt inclined to follow him through all his glaring absurdities, and, by exposing them, have left him to the contempt he deserves! But, upon mature reflection, I found it would only have been giving substance to a shadow, locality to nothing, consequence to iusignid- Cance and fuel to the flame of vanity I 149 the Sliakespcrian band, pass on to the company having possession of the theatre in the time of Charles I.* At the conchision of tliis reign, the actors were thrown into a dilemma which completely put to the test their moral conduct. Suddenly Ixireft of their support, by the convulsions of the times — deprived of the protection of their patrons — persecuted by fanaticism — and anathematised by hypocrisy — they retained, not only their probity unshaken, but many of them had courage and * " It was in the time of Charles, Prynne (that most *' violent puritan) wrote a book against actors, called, ** ' IIisTRioMATix; or THE Pjlayers Scourge.' In which " he employs a world of learnings to shew the injury they *' do; and he has been at the pains to look over one thou- *' sand authors on the subject, and prove that in two thou- ** sand years, a great number of writers expressed their *• disgust at seeing men upon the stage in women's cloaths, " for it was not then customary for any woman to appear ** in character. This furious republican, who, by his ** writings, contribuled more than any other man, to the ** desfruction of the monarchy, and the death of the king, ** after having lost his ears in the pillory for writing this " very book, became as violent for the restoration ; but " what a world of mischief and blood-shed did he not occa- " sion in the mean time. As a true lover of my country, *' and its establishment in church and state, I cannot help *' considering these altac! s upon {he stage, by the evange- ** lical and modern puritans, as tending to the same end. *• It behoves the legislature to look to the consequence." D'ISRAELl's CaLANATIES OF AUTHORS, 03 150 resolution to preserve, and manifest tlieir loyalty by fi<^liting under the banners of their lawful sovereign. In the new plays produced immedi- ately after the restoration, the dramatis personaa points out the rank held by two of them ; Major Mohun and Captain Hart. Through the corrupt and dissipated reign of Charles II.* notwithstanding the stage participated strongly in the language and manners of the licentious court, we find nothing stated of the players being ^re-e???/;zew^(^ debauched, or setting the example, in their own persons, of the reprehensible voluptuousness of the time ! On the contrary, Betterton (who lived to a very great age) is immoilalised by the polished praise of Sir Richard Steele classical genius^ embalming perishable talent I ** For he who struts his hour upon th« stage, •• Can scarce extend his fame for half an age ; " Nor pen, nor pencil, can the actor save, •' But art and artist meet one common grave." An anonymous writer, after having given a most amiable picture of this highly esteemed performer, * It is worthy of remark, that during the long reign of Charles II. there are hut two divorces on record. Yet stylish and fashionable females constantly attended the representation of pla)\s, replete with noxious qualities, and remained — Prudes. lu the luUer end of the reign of George ill. your stilish and fashionable females neglect the theatre^ and remain — Coquettes I 151 observes, ^^ To sum up all that we have been sayirrg^ *' upon the cliaracter of this extraordinary person- *' age, as he was the most perfect model of dramatic *' action, so was he the most unblemished pattern of ^' private and social qualities. Happy is it for that *' player who imitates him in the one, and still more " happy that man who copies him in the other. " Sir Richard Steele, in his Tatler, has been particularly attentive to the transcendent merits of Mr. Betterton ; so much so that he occupies no small share of even the very first paper of that celebrated periodical work. In the 71st number he again speaks highly of him, for his performing Hamlet at the advanced age of 70. Mr. Addison, in number 158, invites the town to attend Mr. Betterton on his benefit night, at the play-house in the Hay-market. On Thursday, May 4, 1710, Sir Richard de- votes a great part of his essay to the memory of his departed excellence. *' Having received notice that the famous actor, '^ Mr. Betterton, was to be interred this evening in " the Cloisters, near Westnunster Abbey, I was " resolved to walk thither, and see the last office done ^' to a man whom I had always very much admired, " and from whose action 1 had received more strong 152 " impressions of what is great and noble in human '' nature, than from the arguments of the most solid *' philosopliers, or the descriplion of the most ^' charming poets I had ever read." " Such an actor as Mr. Betterton, ought to be *^ recorded with the same respect as Roscius among " the Romans." " There is no human invention so *' aptly calculated for the forming a free born people " as that of a theatre.' "Tully reports, that the cele- '^ brated player of whom I have been speaking^ ** (Roscius) used frequently to say, ' The perfection *' of an actor is only to become what he is doing.' '* But extracts cannot do justice to Sir Richard's comments. I would recommend the perusal of the whole number to comprehend at once the great skill of the actor, and enjoy the additional gratification of the soundness of mind and liberality of heart evinced by the entertaining Bickerstaff. It is, 1 believe, a generally received opinion, (hat the concomitant to a lerigth of years, uiust be an unsullied conscience, rectitude of conduct, and peace of mind. The vicious man mm/ have strength of frame to encounter the shocks of unruly passions ; or he maT/ have the fortune to escape the retributive punishment of guilt : he mai/ live to wear the silver badge of virtuous longevity — 153 but 1 am persuaded such instances are rare. With heart-felt satisfactioa can I confidently point to my profession for innumerable proofs of persons enjoying " age like a lusty winter, frosty^ but kindly*." Nor do I remember a solitary instance of one, from the querulousness of age, the fear of death, or the retrospection of tlie past, falling into the gloom of method ism, or the depraved and desperate state of atheism ; but, with a meek and devout christian fervour, resigning their souls to the equal judge of all, with the firm conviction, that they shall not be arraigned at the awful bar as players, but as MEN. This digression, having truth for its support, serves to elucidate my position, that stage-performers are not more vicious, nor more corrupt than their fellow mortals : — however, we now return to the histrionical review ; and, passing to Booth, Cibbi^r, and Wilkes, we have only additional specimens of genius, urbanity and pro- * I will give afewoutof thcmaiiji toproveit : Alley m, TO — Belterton,75-Mrs.Betterlon,67-Co!leyCibl)er,S7-Qiiin,T3~ Rich, TO-Yates, 90-Bowman, S5-Beard, 75-Leveri(ljje, 88- Macklin, 107— Jefferson, 76— Hull, 78— Packer, 75— King, 75 — Havard, 68— Moody, 84 — Mrs. Clive, 75, Lee Lewes, 70— Hirst, 70— Mattocks, 65 — Lewis, 64 — Mrs. Crawford, 72 — C. Bannister, 66— Bland, 80. Living, Mr. Smith, 83— O'Brien, 75— Waldron, 70— Wewifzer, 64— Quick, 64— Mrs. Abingdon, 78 — Miss Pope, 69— Mrs. Mattocks, 67—' Hrs. Leng, 7 6. 154 bit J*. Bring it down to Gn rrick, not one is to l3e found whom liberality would wish to erase from * Davies, in his *' Dramatic Miscellanies," has recorded an anecdote of Mrs. Porter, (a celebrated actress of this period) which cannot be too j^enerallj known. Her place of residence being in the country, she was under the necessity of keeping a one horse chaise for the convenience of attending her professional duties; her constant companions were a book and a brace of pistols. — " In the summer of ** 1731, as she was taking the air, she was stopped by a *' highwayman, who demanded her money. She had the ** courage to present one of her pistols to him; the man, ** who had perhaps with him only the appearance of fire- ♦* arms, assured her that he was no common thief; thai «* robbing on the highway was not to hira a matter of " choice, but necessity, and in order to relieve the wants *« of his poor distressed family. He informed her at the " same time where he lived, and told her such a melancholy " story that she gave liim all the money in her purse, ** which was about ten guineas. The man left her; upon ** this she gave a lash to her horse; he suddenly started out ** of the track, and the chaise was overthrown ; this «' occasioned the dislocation of her thigh-bones. Let it be ** remembered, to her honour, that notwithstanding this ** unlucky and painful accident, she made strict inquiry *< after the robber, and finding that he had not deceived her, ** she raised amongst her acquaintance about sixtj pounds, " which she took care to send him. ** Such an action in a person of high rank, would have ** been celebrated as something great and heroic : the *' feeling mind will make no distinction between tti^ <• generosity of an actress and that of a princess^" 155 the page of biography. I decline particularizing' others, more from the fear of becoming tedious, llian from the want of materials. The curious or the incredulous may easily satisfy themselves by apply- ing to any one of the many volumes published of the lives of theatrical professors. The present principal actors are too well known to require an eulogiimi ; I shall only say, that, collectively, they may vie with any body of men, for propriety and decorum ; and individually they would not disgrace any station, however exalted. I have advanced plain, unadorned, and stubborn facts. I can still go further, and aver, that there is no instance on record of a stage-player suffering a shameful and ignominious death ! I am well aware this assertion may provoke the witticisms of the witling, the jest of the joker, the malignancy of the method ist, and perhaps the contemptuous smile of all. Still, still, it is a glorious superiority ! What other body can boast so immaculate a pre-eminence ? — Is it — But I will not pursue the ungrateful subject, conscious the stage requires no such inviduous comparisons to establish its noble utility and purity. Let the defenders of method ism and the would- be oppressors of the stage, exercise their ingenuity 156 hiid their inclefatigabl'3 researches, to find, in the ■whole catalogue of histriones, a parallel for the preacher Wheatley ; the unworthy contemporary of the two Wesleys. — A wretch, who, under the garb of religion, exercised the base arts of a nefa- rious seducer, upon the unsuspecting females of the sisterhood, to an extent that would have disgraced the most depraved appetite of the most unprincipled debauchee, ever recorded in thejpolluted annals of gallnntry. It is true, his expulsion followed his final detection, but the mischief he did in the time is incalculable. We may partly judge of his depre- dations under his religious disguise, when we are informed, that three years after he had been expelled with the brand of infamy fixed upon him, — " the '' mayor of the city of Norwich, was employed a ^' WHOLE DAY in taking the affidavits of the *' WOMEN whom he had tried to corrupt." Far be it from my wish or intention to charge the vices of so base a monster upon a whole body. Yet from this, and many other instances on KECORD, they should shew some commiseration, for the frailties of their fellow-creatures. When the example of the early methodists, with Messrs. J. and C. Wesley at their head, could not effect a reformation in a man, who, independent of their instruction, must, from his situation, have been in hourly application to the scriptures. How m.ore than illiberal it Is in them to consign a body of 157 people to everlasting perdition, because it cannot feel their enthusiastic inspiration ; and what is more to the credit of the condemned class — will ni)t FEIGN it, I may express myself strongly — ^but I feel — deeply feel, the depression of an honourable profession, by the injustice and obloquy heaped on it unde- servedly — and that in an age when men pride them- selves upon being unprejudiced in their opinions, enlightened in their minds, enlarged m their ideas. Sincerely do I regret my powers and faculties are not equal to my feelings ; proudly would I advocate its cause — do justice to its merits, and overwhelm its oppressors with shame and confusion. If the outcry against actors were confined to the narrow-minded, to the fanatic, or the ignorant, it would require no great share of practical philosophy to endure it ; but when we find members of every order, distinction and body, uniting, as it were, by common consent to depress genius merely because it is theatrical*, we have * Mr. Evans, in his " Denominations of the Christiaa World," has omitted, (in his admirable essay, upon enthu- siasm and superstition,) enumerating thedramatic art, with music, slatuary, and paintin<^. He says, " The poet, the •' musician, the painter, and the statuary also are expected, P 158 nothing left, save the supplicating attitude of the Negro, encumbered Avith the manacles of prejudice, and exclaim — ^' Are we not jour brethren 1" There is one class, or body of men, louder in their condemnation, and broader in their invectives against the use of a s