University of Virginia Library

1.8. CHAPTER VIII.

The Patentee of Drury-Lane wiser than his Actors. His particular Menagement. The Author continues to write Plays. Why. The best dramatick Poets censured by J. Collier, in his Short View of the Stage. It has a good Effect. The Master of the Revels, from that time, cautious in his licensing new Plays. A complaint against him. His Authority founded upon Custom only. The late Law for fixing that Authority in a proper Person, considered.

THOUGH the Master of our Theatre had no Conception himself of Theatrical Merit either in Authors or Actors, yet his Judgment was govern'd by a saving Rule in both: He look'd into his Receipts for the Value of a Play, and from common Fame he judg'd of his Actors. But by whatever Rule he was govern'd, while he had prudently

reserv'd to himself a Power of not paying them more than their Merit could get, he could not be much deceived by their being over or under-valued. In a Word, he had with great Skill inverted the Constitution of the Stage, and quite changed the Channel of Profits arising from it; formerly, (when there was but one Company) the Proprietors punctually paid the Actors their appointed Sallaries, and took to themselves only the clear Profits: But our wiser Proprietor took first out of every Day's Receipts two Shillings in the Pound to himself; and left their Sallaries to be paid only as the less or greater Deficiencies of acting (according to his own Accounts) would permit. What seem'd most extraordinary in these Measures was, that at the same time he had persuaded us to be contented with our Condition, upon his assuring us that as fast as Money would come in we should all be paid our Arrears: And that we might not have it always in our Power to say he had never intended to keep his Word, I remember in a few years after this time he once paid us nine Days in one Week: This happen'd when the Funeral, or Grief à la Mode, [263.1] was first acted, with more than expected Success. Whether this well-tim'd Bounty was only allow'd us to save Appearances I will not say: But if that was his real Motive for it, it was too costly a frolick to be repeated, and was at least the only Grimace of its kind he vouchsafed us; we never having received one Day more of those Arrears in above fifteen Years Service.

While the Actors were in this Condition, I think I may very well be excused in my presuming to write Plays: which I was forced to do for the Support of my encreasing Family, my precarious Income as an Actor being then too scanty to supply it with even the Necessaries of Life.

It may be observable, too, that my Muse and my Spouse were equally prolifick; that the one was seldom the Mother of a Child, but in the same Year the other made me the Father of a Play: I think we had a Dozen of each Sort between us; of both which kinds, some died in their Infancy, and near an equal Number of each were alive when I quitted the Theatre—But it is not Wonder, when a Muse is only call'd upon by Family Duty, she should not always rejoice in the Fruit of her Labour. To this Necessity of writing, then, I attribute the Defects of my second Play, which, coming out too hastily the Year after my first, turn'd to very little Account. But having got as much by my first as I ought to have expected from the Success of them both, I had no great Reason to complain: Not but, I confess, so bad was my second, that I do not chuse to tell you the Name of it; and that it might be peaceably forgotten, I have not given it a Place in the two Volumes of those I publish'd in Quarto in the Year 1721. [264.1] And

whenever I took upon me to make some dormant Play of an old Author to the best of my Judgment fitter for the Stage, it was honestly not to be idle that set me to work; as a good Housewife will mend old Linnen when she has not better Employment: But when I was more warmly engag'd by a Subject entirely new, I only thought it a good Subject when it seem'd worthy of an abler Pen than my own, and might prove as useful to the Hearer as profitable to my self: Therefore, whatever any of my Productions might want of Skill, Learning, Wit, or Humour, or however unqualify'd I might be to instruct others who so ill govern'd my self: Yet such Plays (entirely my own) were not wanting, at least, in what our most admired Writers seem'd to neglect, and without which I cannot allow the most taking Play to be intrinsically good, or to be a Work upon which a Man of Sense and Probity should value himself: I mean when they do not, as well prodesse as delectare, [266.1] give Profit with Delight! The Utile Dulci [266.2] was, of old, equally the Point; and has always been my Aim, however wide of the Mark I may have shot my Arrow. It has often given me Amazement that our best Authors of that time could think the Wit and Spirit of their Scenes could be an Excuse for making the Looseness of them publick. The many Instances of their Talents so abused are too glaring to need a closer Comment, and are sometimes too gross to be recited. If then to have avoided this Imputation, or rather to have had the Interest and Honour of Virtue always in view, can give Merit to a Play, I am contented that my Readers should think such Merit the All that mine have to boast of—Libertines of meer Wit and Pleasure may laugh at these grave Laws that would limit a lively Genius: But every sensible honest Man, conscious of their Truth and Use, will give these Ralliers Smile for Smile, and shew a due Contempt for their Merriment.

But while our Authors took these extraordinary Liberties with their Wit, I remember the Ladies were then observ'd to be decently afraid of venturing bare-fac'd to a new Comedy 'till they had been

assur'd they might do it without the Risque of an Insult to their Modesty—Or, if their Curiosity were too strong for their Patience, they took Care, at least, to save Appearances, and rarely came upon the first Days of Acting but in Masks, (then daily worn and admitted in the Pit, the side Boxes, and Gallery [267.1] ) which Custom, however, had so many ill Consequences attending it, that it has been abolish'd these many Years.

These Immoralities of the Stage had by an avow'd Indulgence been creeping into it ever since King Charles his Time; nothing that was loose could then be too low for it: The London Cuckolds, the most rank Play that ever succeeded, [267.2] was then in the highest Court-Favour: In this almost general Corruption, Dryden, whose Plays were more fam'd for their Wit than their Chastity, led the way, which he fairly confesses, and endeavours to excuse in his Epilogue to the Pilgrim, revived in 1700 for his

Benefit, [268.1] in his declining Age and Fortune—The following Lines of it will make good my Observation.

This Epilogue, and the Prologue to the same Play, written by Dryden, I spoke myself, which not being usually done by the same Person, I have a mind, while I think of it, to let you know on what Occasion they both fell to my Share, and how other Actors were affected by it.

Sir John Vanbrugh, who had given some light touches of his Pen to the Pilgrim to assist the Benefit Day of Dryden, had the Disposal of the Parts, and I being then as an Actor in some Favour with him, he read the Play first with me alone, and was pleased to offer me my Choice of what I might like best for myself in it. But as the chief Characters were not (according to my Taste) the most shining, it was no great Self-denial in me that I desir'd he would first take care of those who were more difficult to be pleased; I therefore only chose for myself two short incidental Parts, that of the stuttering Cook [269.1] and the mad Englishman. In which homely Characters I saw more Matter for Delight than those that

might have a better Pretence to the Amiable: And when the Play came to be acted I was not deceiv'd in my Choice. Sir John, upon my being contented with so little a Share in the Entertainment, gave me the Epilogue to make up my Mess; which being written so much above the Strain of common Authors, I confess I was not a little pleased with. And Dryden, upon his hearing me repeat it to him, made me a farther Compliment of trusting me with the Prologue. This so particular Distinction was looked upon by the Actors as something too extraordinary. But no one was so impatiently ruffled at it as Wilks, who seldom chose soft Words when he spoke of any thing he did not like. The most gentle thing he said of it was, that he did not understand such Treatment; that for his Part he look'd upon it as an Affront to all the rest of the Company, that there shou'd be but one out of the Whole judg'd fit to speak either a Prologue or an Epilogue! to quiet him I offer'd to decline either in his Favour, or both, if it were equally easy to the Author: But he was too much concern'd to accept of an Offer that had been made to another in preference to himself, and which he seem'd to think his best way of resenting wa to contemn. But from that time, however, he was resolv'd, to the best of his Power, never to let the first Offer of a Prologue escape him: Which little Ambition sometimes made him pay too dear for his Success: The Flatness of the many miserable Prologues that by this means fell to his Lot, seem'd wofully unequal to the few good ones he might have Reason to triumph in.

I have given you this Fact only as a Sample of those frequent Rubs and Impediments I met with when any Step was made to my being distinguish'd as an Actor; and from this Incident, too, you may partly see what occasion'd so many Prologues, after the Death of Betterton, to fall into the Hands of one Speaker: But it is not every Successor to a vacant Post that brings into it the Talents equal to those of a Predecessor. To speak a good Prologue well is, in my Opinion, one of the hardest Parts and strongest Proofs of sound Elocution, of which, I confess, I never thought that any of the several who attempted it shew'd themselves, by far, equal Masters to Betterton. Betterton, in the Delivery of a good Prologue, had a natural Gravity that gave Strength to good Sense, a temper'd Spirit that gave Life to Wit, and a dry Reserve in his Smile that threw Ridicule into its brightest colours. Of these Qualities, in the speaking of a Prologue, Booth only had the first, but attain'd not to the other two: Wilks had Spirit, but gave too loose a Rein to it, and it was seldom he could speak a grave and weighty Verse harmoniously: His Accents were frequently too sharp and violent, which sometimes occasion'd his eagerly cutting off half the Sound of Syllables that ought to have been gently melted into the Melody of Metre: In Verses of Humour, too, he would sometimes carry the Mimickry farther than the hint would bear, even to

a trifling Light, as if himself were pleased to see it so glittering. In the Truth of this Criticism I have been confirm'd by those whose Judgment I dare more confidently rely on than my own: Wilks had many Excellencies, but if we leave Prologue-Speaking out of the Number he will still have enough to have made him a valuable Actor. And I only make this Exception form them to caution others from imitating what, in his time, they might have too implicitly admired—But I have a Word or two more to say concerning the Immoralities of the Stage. Our Theatrical Writers were not only accus'd of Immorality, but Prophaneness; many flagrant Instances of which were collected and published by a Nonjuring Clergyman, Jeremy Collier, in his View of the Stage, &c. about the Year 1697. [272.1] However just his Charge against the Authors that then wrote for it might be, I cannot but think his Sentence against the Stage itself is unequal; Reformation he thinks too mild a Treatment for it, and is therefore for laying his Ax to the Root of it: If this were to be a Rule of Judgment for Offences of the same Nature,

William Congreve

[Description: Mezzotint Portrait, engraved by R.B. Parkes. William Congreve. After the painting by Sir Godfrey Kneller, 1709, "Kit-Kat Club"]

what might become of the Pulpit, where many a seditious and corrupted Teacher has been known to cover the most pernicious Doctrine with the Masque of Religion? This puts me in mind of what the noted Jo. Hains, [273.1] the Comedian, a Fellow of a wicked Wit, said upon this Occasion; who being ask'd what could transport Mr. Collier into so blind a Zeal for a general Suppression of the Stage, when only some particular Authors had abus'd it? Whereas the Stage, he could not but know, was generally allow'd, when rightly conducted, to be a delightful Method of mending our Morals? "For that Reason, reply'd "Hains: Collier is by Profession a Moral-mender "himself, and two of Trade, you know, can never "agree." [273.2]

The Authors of the old Batchelor and of the Relapse were those whom Collier most labour'd to convict of Immorality; to which they severally publish'd their Reply; the first seem'd too much hurt to be able to defend himself, and the other felt him so little that his Wit only laugh'd at his Lashes. [274.1]

My first Play of the Fool in Fashion, too, being then in a Course of Success; perhaps for that Reason only, this severe Author thought himself oblig'd to attack it; in which I hope he has shewn more Zeal than Justice, his greatest Charge against it is , that it sometimes uses the Word Faith! as an Oath, in the Dialogue: But if Faith may as well signify our given Word or Credit as our religious Belief, why might not his Charity have taken it in the less criminal Sense? Nevertheless, Mr. Collier's Book was upon the whole thought so laudable a Work, that King

William, soon after it was publish'd, granted him a Nolo Prosequi when he stood answerable to the Law for his having absolved two Criminals just before they were executed for High Treason. And it must be farther granted that his calling our Dramatick Writers to this strict Account had a very wholesome Effect upon those who writ after this time. They were now a great deal more upon their guard; Indecencies were no longer Wit; and by Degrees the fair Sex came again to fill the Boxes on the first Day of a new Comedy, without Fear or Censure. But the Master of the Revels, [275.1] who then licens'd all Plays for the Stage, assisted this Reformation with a more zealous Severity than ever. He would strike out whole Scenes of a vicious or immoral Character, tho' it were visibly shewn to be reform'd or punish'd; a severe Instance of this kind falling upon my self may be an Excuse for my relating it: When Richard the third (as I alter'd it from Shakespear) [275.2] came from his Hands to the Stage, he expung'd the whole first Act without sparing a Line of it. This extraordinary Stroke of a Sic volo occasion'd my applying to him for the small Indulgence of a Speech or two, that the other four Acts might limp on with a little less Absurdity! no! he had not leisure to consider what might be separately inoffensive. He had an Objection to the whole Act, and the Reason he gave for it was, that the Distresses of King Henry the Sixth, who is kill'd by Richard in the first Act, would put weak People too much in mind of King James then living in France; a notable Proof of his Zeal for the Government! [276.1] Those who have read either the Play or the History, I dare say will think he strain'd hard for the Parallel. In a Word, we were forc'd, for some few Years, to let the Play take its Fate with only four Acts divided into five; by the Loss of so considerable a Limb, may one not modestly suppose it was robbed of at least a fifth Part of that Favour it afterwards met with? For tho' this first Act was at last recovered, and made the Play whole again, yet the Relief came too late to repay me for the Pains I had taken in it. Nor did I ever hear that this zealous Severity of the Master of the Revels was afterwards thought justifiable. But my good Fortune, in Process of time, gave me an Opportunity to talk with my Oppressor in my Turn.

The Patent granted by his Majesty King George the First to Sir Richard Steele and his Assigns, [276.2] of which I was one, made us sole Judges of what Plays

might be proper for the Stage, without submitting them to the Approbation or License of any other particular Person. Notwithstanding which, the Master of the Revels demanded his Fee of Forty Shillings upon our acting a new One, tho' we had spared him the Trouble of perusing it. This occasion'd my being deputed to him to enquire into the Right of his Demand, and to make an amicable End of our Dispute. [277.1] I confess I did not dislike the Office; and told him, according to my Instructions, That I came not to defend even our own Right in prejudice to his; that if our Patent had inadvertently superseded the Grant of any former Power or Warrant whereon he might ground his Pretensions, we would not insist upon our Broad Seal, but would readily answer his Demands upon sight of such his Warrant, any thing in our Patent to the contrary notwithstanding. This I had reason to think he could not do; and when I found he made no direct Reply to my Question, I repeated it with greater Civilities and Offers of Compliance, 'till I was forc'd in the end to conclude with telling him, That as his Pretensions were not back'd with any visible Instrument of Right, and as his strongest Pleas was Custom, we could not so far extend our Complaisance as to continue his Fees upon so slender a Claim to them: And from that Time neither our Plays or his Fees gave either of us any farther trouble. In this Negotiation I am the bolder to think Justice was on our Side, because the Law lately pass'd, [278.1] by which the Power of Licensing Plays, &c. is given to a proper Person, is a strong Presumption that no Law had ever given that Power to any such Person before.

My having mentioned this Law, which so immediately affected the Stage, inclines me to throw out a

few Observations upon it: But I must first lead you gradually thro' the Facts and natural Causes that made such a Law necessary.

Although it had been taken for granted, from Time

immemorial, that no Company of Comedians could act Plays, &c. without the Royal License or Protection of some legal Authority, a Theatre was, notwithstanding, erected in Goodman's-Fields about seven Years ago, [282.1] where Plays, without any such License, were acted for some time unmolested and with Impunity. After a Year or two, this Playhouse was thought a Nusance too near the City: Upon which the Lord-Mayor and Aldermen petition'd the Crown to suppress it: What Steps were taken in favour of that Petition I know not, but common Fame seem'd to allow, from what had or had not been done in it, that acting Plays in the said Theatre was not evidently unlawful. [282.2] However, this Question of Acting without a License a little time after came to a nearer Decision in Westminster-Hall; the Occasion of bringing it thither was this: It happened that the Purchasers of the Patent, to whom Mr. Booth and Myself had sold our Shares, [283.1] were at variance with the Comedians that were then left to their Government, and the Variance ended in the chief of those Comedians deserting and setting up for themselves in the little House in the Hay-Market, in 2733, by which Desertion the Patentees were very much distressed and considerable Losers. Their Affairs being in this desperate Condition, they were advis'd to put the Act of the Twelfth of Queen Anne against Vagabonds in force against these Deserters, then acting in the Hay-Market without License. Accordingly, one of their chief Performers [283.2] was taken from the Stage by a Justice of Peace his Warrant, and committed to Bridewell as one within the Penalty of the said Act. When the Legality of this Commitment was disputed in Westminster-Hall, by all I could observe from the learned Pleadings on both Sides (for I had the Curiosity to hear them) it did not appear to me that the Comedian so committed was within the Description of the said Act, he being a Housekeeper and having a Vote for the Westminster Members of Parliament. He was discharged accordingly, and conducted through the Hall with the Congratulations of the Crowds that attended and wish'd well to his Cause.

The Issue of this Trial threw me at that time into a very odd Reflexion, viz. That if acting Plays without License did not make the Performers Vagabonds unless they wandered from their Habitations so to do, how particular was the Case of Us three late Menaging Actors at the Theatre-Royal, who in twenty Years before had paid upon an Averidge at least Twenty Thousand Pounds to be protected (as Actors) from a Law that has not since appeared to be against us. Now, whether we might certainly have acted without any License at all I shall not pretend to determine; but this I have of my own Knowledge to say, That in Queen Anne's Reign the Stage was in such Confusion, and its Affairs in such Distress, that Sir John Vanbrugh and Mr. Congreve, after they had held it about one Year, threw up the Menagement of it as an unprofitable Post, after which a License for Acting was not thought worth any Gentleman's asking for, and almost seem'd to go a begging, 'till some time after, by the Care, Application, and Industry of three Actors, it became so prosperous, and the Profits so considerable, that it created a new Place, and a Sine-cure of a Thousand

Pounds a Year, [285.1] which the Labour of those Actors constantly paid to such Persons as had from time to time Merit or Interest enough to get their Names inserted as Fourth Menagers in a License with them for acting Plays, &c. a Preferment that many a Sir Francis Wronghead would have jump'd at. [285.2] But to go on with my Story. This Endeavour of the Patentees to suppress the Comedians acting in the Hay-Market proving ineffectual, and no Hopes of a Reunion then appearing, the Remains of the Company left in Drury-Lane were reduced to a very low Condition. At this time a third Purchaser, Charles Fleetwood, Esq., stept in; who judging the best Time to buy was when the Stock was at the lowest Price, struck up a Bargain at once for Five Parts in Six of the Patent; [285.3] and, at the same time, gave the revolted Comedians their own Terms to return and come under his Government in Drury-Lane, where they now continue to act at very ample Sallaries, as I am informed, in 1738. [285.4] But (as I have observ'd) the late Cause of the prosecuted Comedian having gone so strongly in his Favour, and the House in Goodman's-Fields, too, continuing to act with as little Authority unmolested; these so tolerated Companies gave Encouragement to a broken Wit to collect a fourth Company, who for some time acted Plays in the Hay-Market, which House the united Drury-Lane Comedians had lately quitted: This enterprising Person, I say (whom I do not chuse to name, [286.1] unless it could be to his Advantage, or that it were of Importance) had Sense enough to know that the best Plays with bad Actors would turn but to a very poor Account; and therefore found it necessary to give the Publick some Pieces of an extraordinary Kind, the Poetry of which he conceiv'd ought to be so strong that the greatest Dunce of an Actor could not spoil it: He knew, too, that as he was in haste to get Money, it would take up less time to be intrepidly abusive than decently entertaining; that to draw the Mob after him he must rake the Channel [287.1] and pelt their Superiors; that, to shew himself somebody, he must come up to Juvenal's Advice and stand the Consequence:

Such, then, was the mettlesome Modesty he set out with; upon this Principle he produc'd several frank and free Farces that seem'd to knock all Distinctions of Mankind on the Head: Religion, Laws, Government, Priests, Judges, and Ministers, were all laid flat at the Feet of this Herculean Satyrist! This Drawcansir in Wit, [287.3] that spared neither Friend nor Foe! who to make his Poetical Fame immortal, like another Erostratus, set Fire to his Stage by writing up to an Act of Parliament to demolish it. [287.4] I shall

not give the particular Strokes of his Ingenuity a Chance to be remembred by reciting them; it may be enough to say, in general Terms, they were so openly flagrant, that the Wisdom of the Legislature thought it high time to take a proper Notice of them. [288.1]

Having now shewn by what means there came to be four Theatres, besides a fifth for Operas, in London, all open at the same time, and that while they were so numerous it was evident some of them must have starv'd unless they fed upon the Trash and Filth of Buffoonery and Licentiousness; I now come, as I promis'd, to speak of that necessary Law which has reduced their Number and prevents the Repetition of such Abuses in those that remain open for the Publick Recreation.

While this Law was in Debate a lively Spirit and uncommon Eloquence was employ'd against it. [289.1] It was urg'd That one of the greatest Goods we can enjoy is Liberty. (This we may grant to be an incontestable Truth, without its being the least Objection to this Law.) It was said, too, That to bring the Stage under the Restraint of a Licenser was leading the way to an Attack upon the Liberty of the Press. This amounts but to a Jealousy at best, which I hope and believe all honest Englishmen have as much Reason to think a groundless, as to fear it is a just Jealousy: For the Stage and the Press, I shall endeavour to shew, are very different Weapons to wound with. If a great Man could be no more injured by being personally ridicul'd or made contemptible in a Play, than by the same Matter only printed and read against him in a Pamphlet or the strongest Verse; then, indeed, the Stage and the Press might pretend to be upon an equal Foot of Liberty: But when the wide Difference between these two Liberties comes to be explain'd and consider'd, I dare say we shall find the Injuries from one capable of being ten times more severe and formidable than from the other: Let us see, at least, if the Case will not be vastly alter'd. Read what Mr. Collier in his Defence of his Short View of the Stage, c. Page 25, says to this Point; he sets this Difference in a clear Light. These are his Words:

"The Satyr of a Comedian and another Poet, have "a different effect upon Reputation. A Character "of Disadvantage upon the Stage, makes a stronger "Impression than elsewhere. Reading is but Hearing "at the second Hand; Now Hearing at the best, "is a more languid Conveyance than Sight. For as "Horace observes,

"The Eye is much more affecting, and strikes "deeper into the Memory than the Ear. Besides, "Upon the Stage both the Senses are in Conjunction. "The Life of the Action fortifies the Object, "and awakens the Mind to take hold of it. Thus "a dramatick Abuse is rivetted in the Audience, a "Jest is improv'd into an Argument, and Rallying "grows up into Reason: Thus a Character of Scandal "becomes almost indelible, a Man goes for a Blockhead "upon Content; and he that's made a Fool in "a Play, is often made one for his Life-time. 'Tis "true he passes for such only among the prejudiced "and unthinking; but these are no inconsiderable "Division of Mankind. For these Reasons, I humbly "conceive the Stage stands in need of a great deal "of Discipline and Restraint: To give them an unlimited "Range, is in effect to make them Masters "of all Moral Distinctions, and to lay Honour and "Religion at their Mercy. To shew Greatness ridiculous,

"is the way to lose the use, and abate the "value of the Quality. Things made little in jest, "will soon be so in earnest: for Laughing and "Esteem, are seldom bestow'd on the same Object."

If this was Truth and Reason (as sure it was) forty Years ago, will it not carry the same Conviction with it to these Days, when there came to be a much stronger Call for a Reformation of the Stage, than when this Author wrote against it, or perhaps than was ever known since the English Stage had a Being? And now let us ask another Question! Does not the general Opinion of Mankind suppose that the Honour and Reputation of a Minister is, or ought to be, as dear to him as his Life? Yet when the Law, in Queen Anne's Time, had made even an unsuccessful Attempt upon the Life of a Minister capital, could any Reason be found that the Fame and Honour of his Character should not be under equal Protection? Was the Wound that Guiscard gave to the late Lord Oxford, when a Minister, [291.1] a greater Injury than the Theatrical Insult which was offer'd to a later Minister, in a more valuable Part, his Character? Was it not as high time, then, to take this dangerous Weapon of mimical Insolence and Defamation out of the Hands of a mad Poet, as to wrest the Knife from the lifted Hand of a Murderer? And is not that Law of a milder Nature which prevents a Crime, than that which punishes it after it is committed? May not one think it amazing

that the Liberty of defaming lawful Power and Dignity should have been so eloquently contended for? or especially that this Liberty ought to triumph in a Theatre, where the most able, the most innocent, and most upright Person must himself be, while the Wound is given, defenceless? How long must a Man so injur'd lie bleeding before the Pain and Anguish of his Fame (if it suffers wrongfully) can be dispell'd? or say he had deserv'd Reproof and publick Accusation, yet the Weight and Greatness of his Office never can deserve it from a publick Stage, where the lowest Malice by sawcy Parallels and abusive Inuendoes may do every thing but name him: But alas! Liberty is so tender, so chaste a Virgin, that it seems not to suffer her to do irreparable Injuries with Impunity is a Violation of her! It cannot sure be a Principle of Liberty that would turn the Stage into a Court of Enquiry, that would let the partial Applauses of a vulgar Audience give Sentence upon the Conduct of Authority, and put Impeachments into the Mouth of a Harlequin? Will not every impartial Man think that Malice, Envy, Faction, and Mis-rule, might have too much Advantage over lawful Power, if the Range of such a Stage-Liberty were unlimited and insisted on to be enroll'd among the glorious Rights of an English Subject?

I remember much such another ancient Liberty, which many of the good People of England were once extremely fond of; I mean that of throwing

Squibs and Crackers at all Spectators without Distinction upon a Lord-Mayor's Day; but about forty Years ago a certain Nobleman happening to have one of his Eyes burnt out by this mischievous Merriment, it occasion'd a penal Law to prevent those Sorts of Jests from being laugh'd at for the future: Yet I have never heard that the most zealous Patriot ever thought such a Law was the least Restraint upon our Liberty.

If I am ask'd why I am so voluntary a Champion for the Honour of this Law that has limited the Number of Play-Houses, and which now can no longer concern me as a Professor of the Stage? I reply, that it being a Law so nearly relating to the Theatre, it seems not at all foreign to my History to have taken notice of it; and as I have farther promised to give the Publick a true Portrait of my Mind, I ought fairly to let them see how far I am, or am not, a Blockhead, when I pretend to talk of serious Matters that may be judg'd so far above my Capacity: Nor will it in the least discompose me whether my Observations are contemn'd or applauded. A Blockhead is not always an unhappy Fellow, and if the World will not flatter us, we can flatter ourselves; perhaps, too, it will be as difficult to convince us we are in the wrong, as that you wiser Gentlemen are one Tittle the better for your Knowledge. It is yet a Question with me whether we weak Heads have not as much Pleasure, too, in giving our shallow Reason a little Exercise, as those clearer Brains have

that are allow'd to dive into the deepest Doubts and Mysteries; to reflect or form a Judgment upon remarkable things past is as delightful to me as it is to the gravest Politician to penetrate into what is present, or to enter into Speculations upon what is, or is not likely to come. Why are Histories written, if all Men are not to judge of them? Therefore, if my Reader has no more to do that I have, I have a Chance for his being as willing to have a little more upon the same Subject as I am to give it him.

When direct Arguments against this Bill were found too weak, Recourse was had to dissuasive ones: It was said that this Restraint upon the Stage would not remedy the Evil complain'd of: That a Play refus'd to be licensed would still be printed, with double Advantage, when it should be insinuated that it was refused for some Strokes of Wit, &c. and would be more likely then to have its Effect among the People. However natural this Consequence may seem, I doubt it will be very difficult to give a printed Satyr or Libel half the Force or Credit of an acted one. The most artful or notorious Lye or strain'd Allusion that ever slander'd a great Man, may be read by some People with a Smile of Contempt, or, at worst, it can impose but on one Person at once: but when the Words of the same plausible Stuff shall be repeated on a Theatre, the Wit of it among a Crowd of Hearers is liable to be over-valued, and may unite and warm a whole Body of the Malicious or Ignorant into a Plaudit; nay, the partial Claps of only twenty

ill-minded Persons among several hundreds of silent Hearers shall, and often have been, mistaken for a general Approbation, and frequently draw into their Party the Indifferent or Inapprehensive, who rather than be thought not to understand the Conceit, will laugh with the Laughers and join in the Triumph! But alas! the quiet Reader of the same ingenious Matter can only like for himself; and the Poison has a much slower Operation upon the Body of a People when it is so retail'd out, than when sold to a full Audience by wholesale. The single Reader, too, may happen to be a sensible or unprejudiced Person; and then the merry Dose, meeting with the Antidote of a sound Judgment, perhaps may have no Operation at all: With such a one the Wit of the most ingenious Satyr will only by its intrinsick Truth or Value gain upon his Approbation; or if it be worth an Answer, a printed Falshood may possibly be confounded by printed Proofs against it. But against Contempt and Scandal, heighten'd and colour'd by the Skill of an Actor ludicrously infusing it into a Multitude, there is no immediate Defence to be made or equal Reparation to be had for it; for it would be but a poor Satisfaction at last, after lying long patient under the Injury, that Time only is to shew (which would probably be the Case) that the Author of it was a desperate Indigent that did it for Bread. How much less dangerous or offensive, then, is the written than the acted Scandal? The Impression the Comedian gives to it is a kind of double Stamp upon the Poet's Paper, that raises it to ten times the intrinsick Value. Might we not strengthen this Argument, too, even by the Eloquence that seem'd to have opposed this Law? I will say for my self, at least, that when I came to read the printed Arguments against it, I could scarce believe they were the same that had amaz'd and raised such Admiration in me when they had the Advantage of a lively Elocution, and of that Grace and Spirit which gave Strength and Lustre to them in the Delivery!

Upon the whole; if the Stage ought ever to have been reform'd; if to place a Power somewhere of restraining its Immoralities was not inconsistent with the Liberties of a civiliz'd People (neither of which, sure, any moral Man of Sense can dispute) might it not have shewn a Spirit too poorly prejudiced, to have rejected so rational a Law only because the Honour and Office of a Minister might happen, in some small Measure, to be protected by it. [296.1]

But however little Weight there may be in the Observations I have made upon it, I shall, for my own Part, always think them just; unless I should live to see (which I do not expect) some future Set of upright Ministers use their utmost Endeavours to repeal it.

And now we have seen the Consequence of what many People are apt to contend for, Variety of Play-houses! How was it possible so many could honestly subsist on what was fit to be seen? Their extraordinary Number, of Course, reduc'd them to live upon the Gratification of such Hearers as they knew would be best pleased with publick Offence; and publick Offence, of what kind soever, will always be a good Reason for making Laws to restrain it.

To conclude, let us now consider this Law in a quite different Light; let us leave the political Part of it quite out of the Question; what Advantage could either the Spectators of Plays or the Masters of Play-houses have gain'd by its having never been made? How could the same Stock of Plays supply four Theatres, which (without such additional Entertainments as a Nation of common Sense ought to be ashamed of) could not well support two? Satiety must have been the natural Consequence of the same Plays being twice as often repeated as now they need be; and Satiety puts an End to all Tastes that the Mind of Man can delight in. Had therefore this Law been made seven Years ago, I should not have parted with my Share in the Patent under a thousand Pounds more than I received for it [297.1] —So that, as far as I am able to judge, both the Publick as Spectators, and the Patentees as Undertakers,

are, or might be, in a way of being better entertain'd and more considerable Gainers by it.

I now return to the State of the Stage, where I left it, about the Year 1697, from whence this Pursuit of its Immoralities has led me farther than I first design'd to have follow'd it.