The amusements which this place afford are generally supposed the most
rational, and are really so to a cultivated mind; yet one that is not
quite formed may learn affectation at the theatre. Many of our admired
tragedies are too full of declamation, and a false display of the
passions. A heroine is often made to grieve ten or twenty years, and yet
the unabated sorrow has not given her cheeks a pallid hue; she still
inspires the most violent passion in every beholder, and her own yields
not to time. The prominent features of a passion are easily copied,
while the more delicate touches are overlooked. That start of
Cordelia’s, when her father says, “I think that Lady is my daughter,”
has affected me beyond measure, when I could unmoved hear Calista
describe the cave in which she would live “Until her tears had washed
her guilt away.”
The principal characters are too frequently made to rise above human
nature, or sink below it; and this occasions many false conclusions. The
chief use of dramatic performances should be to teach us to discriminate
characters; but if we rest in separating the good from the bad, we are
very superficial observers. May I venture a conjecture?—I cannot help
thinking, that every human creature has some spark of goodness, which
their long-suffering and benevolent Father gives them an opportunity of
improving, though they may perversely smother it before they cease to
breathe.
Death is treated in too slight a manner; and sought, when
disappointments occur, with a degree of impatience, which proves that
the main end of life has not been considered. That fearful punishment of
sin, and convulsion of nature, is too often exposed to public view.
Until very lately I never had the courage even to look at a person dying
on the stage. The hour of death is not the time for the display of
passions; nor do I think it natural it should: the mind is then
dreadfully disturbed, and the trifling sorrows of this world not thought
of. The deaths on the stage, in spite of the boasted sensibility of the
age, seem to have much the same effect on a polite audience, as the
execution of malefactors has on the mob that follow them to Tyburn.
The worst species of immorality is inculcated, and life (which is to
determine the fate of eternity) thrown away when a kingdom or mistress
is lost. Patience and submission to the will of Heaven, and those
virtues which render us useful to society, are not brought forward to
view; nor can they occasion those surprising turns of fortune which most
delight vulgar minds. The almost imperceptible progress of the passions,
which Shakespeare has so finely delineated, are not sufficiently
observed, though the start of the actor is applauded. Few tragedies, I
think, will please a person of discernment, and their sensibility is
sure to be hurt.
Young persons, who are happily situated, do well to enter into
fictitious distress; and if they have any judicious person to direct
their judgment, it may be improved while their hearts are melted. Yet I
would not have them confine their compassion to the distresses
occasioned by love; and perhaps their feelings might more profitably be
roused, if they were to see sometimes the complicated, misery of
sickness and poverty, and weep for the beggar instead of the king.
Comedy is not now so censurable as it was some years ago; and a chaste
ear is not often shocked with indecencies. When follies are pointed out,
and vanity ridiculed, it may be very improving; and perhaps the stage is
the only place where ridicule is useful.
What I have said is certainly only applicable to those who go to see the
play, and not to shew themselves and waste time. The most insignificant
amusement will afford instruction to thinking minds, and the most
rational will be lost on a vacant one.
Remarks on the actors are frequently very tiresome. It is a fashionable
topic, and a thread-bare one; it requires great abilities, and a
knowledge of nature, to be a competent judge; and those who do not enter
into the spirit of the author, are not qualified to converse with
confidence on the subject.