CHAPTER VIII.

[Illustration: Ad Lalauze, sc]

_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_,[288] 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 no 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.[289] 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_,[290] give

Profit with Delight! The _Utile Dulci_[291] 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[292]) 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,[293] 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,[294] in his declining Age and

Fortune--The following Lines of it will make good my Observation.

_Perhaps the Parson[295] stretch'd a Point too far,

When with our Theatres he wag'd a War.

He tells you that this very moral Age

Receiv'd the first Infection from the Stage.

But sure, a banish'd Court, with Lewdness fraught,

The Seeds of open Vice returning brought.

Thus lodg'd (as vice by great Example thrives)

It first debauch'd the Daughters, and the Wives._

London, _a fruitful Soil, yet never bore

So plentiful a Crop of Horns before.

The Poets, who must live by Courts or starve,

Were proud so good a Government to serve.

And mixing with Buffoons and Pimps profane,

Tainted the Stage for some small snip of Gain.

For they, like Harlots under Bawds profest,

Took all th' ungodly Pains, and got the least.

Thus did the thriving Malady prevail,

The Court it's Head, the Poets but the Tail.

The Sin was of our native Growth, 'tis true,

The Scandal of the Sin was wholly new.

Misses there were, but modestly conceal'd;_

Whitehall _the naked_ Venus _first reveal'd.

Who standing, as at_ Cyprus, _in her Shrine,

The Strumpet was ador'd with Rites divine_, &c.

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_[296] 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 was 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 from 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.[297] 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, 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_,[298] 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.[299]"

[Illustration: WILLIAM CONGREVE.]

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.[300]

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,[301] 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_)[302] 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![303]

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,[304] 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.[305] 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 Plea 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,[306] 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,[307] 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.[308] 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,[309] 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 1733, 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[310] 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,[311] 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.[312] 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;[313] 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.[314] 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,[315] 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[316] and pelt their Superiors;

that, to shew himself somebody, he must come up to _Juvenal_'s Advice

and stand the Consequence:

_Aude aliquid brevibus Gyaris, & carcere dignum

Si vis esse aliquis_---- Juv. Sat. I.[317]

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,[318] 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.[319] 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.[320]

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 Buffoonry 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.

[Illustration: CHARLOTTE CHARKE.]

While this Law was in Debate a lively Spirit and uncommon Eloquence was

employ'd against it.[321] 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,

_Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem,

Quam quæ sunt oculis subjecta fidelibus._[322]

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,[323] 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 than 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.[324]

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 Playhouses! 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[325]----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.

An Apology for the Life of Mr. Colley Cibber, Volume 1 (of 2) Written by Himself. A New Edition with Notes and Supplement · 第 8 / 11 章