I Shall begin this Second Review of the Ingenious Mr. Collier, in his Remarks upon the Relapse: And here I must prepare my Reader for a New Enter­tainment. For hitherto, in our First Part, we have only Discoursed him in his Di­viner Qualification, as the Church-man and Philosopher, viz. in his Moral and Religi­ous Objections against the Stage. But here we find him, in the Humane Capacity, car­rying on his Attack, not only as a Church-Champion, but that Humbler Stage-Com­batant, a Critick. But no doubt, he's a Man of Universal Learning, and there­fore to do himself Justice, as well as the Stage, there's no Reason that this shining Talent should lie any more hid than the other.

I confess, he has singled out a very stur­dy Play to grapple with, and if he has Prowess enough for a compleat Conquest here, he may hope to drive the whole Stage before him.

[Page 2] The Remarks on the Relapse Examined.

Engaging this Play immediately after some small Triumph over Mr. Durfey's Don Quixot, he gives this Reason why this Au­thor should next enter the List, viz.

‘The Relapse should follow Don Quixot, upon the Account of some Alliance be­tween 'em.’

Now, which way the Kindred enters be­twen these two Plays, I am afraid Mr. Colli­er's whole false Heraldry will hardly be able to make out. For 'tis the Opinion of the whole Town, the Vox Populi on my side, that neither those two Authors nor their Works, especially the Quixot Labours, have any such great Affinity. I durst venture to say, the Relapse and the Quixot are no more of Kin, then the Cavalier to the Church-man; not so much as Mr. Collier's Modern Beau Wigg, Crevate and Sword, to his old cast Gown, Cassock and Scarf. Nor is there half so much Reason why the Relapse should follow the Don Quixot, as why Mr. Collier the Sword-man should fol­low Doctor Collier the Gown-man.

The Resignation of his Quondam Divi­nity, and his whole Spirituality for his pre­sent [Page 3] Temporal and Carnal Assumption, no more the Church-Militant, but the Lay-Militant Hero, is all but a natural Consequence, a Product we see every Day. This very Ma­ster of Arts himself, when but a Iunior Soph, could have produced a very substan­tial Maxim in Natural Philosophy to justi­fie this Transformation, viz. Corruptio Op­timi, &c.

‘I shall spend a few more Thoughts [More Words he means] then ordinary upon this Play, and examine it briefly [in Twelve Leaves of Paper] in the Fable, the Moral, the Characters, &c. The Fable I take to be as follows.’

‘ Fashion, a lewd Prodigal younger Bro­ther is reduced to Extremity; upon his arrival from his Travels, he meets with Coupler an old sharping Match-maker. This Man puts him upon a Project of Cheating his Elder Brother Lord Fop­pington of a rich Fortune. Young Fashion being refused a sum of Money by his Brother, goes into Coupler's Plot, bubbles Sir Tunbelly of his Daughter, and makes himself Master of a Fair Estate.’

‘From the Form and Constitution of the Fable, I observe, First, There is a [Page] Misnommer in the Title. The Play should not have been here call'd, The Relapse; or, Virtue in Danger. Lovelace and Aman­da, from whose Characters these Names are drawn, are Persons of Inferior Con­sideration, &c. The Intrigue and the Dis­covery, the great Revolution and Suc­cess turns upon Young Fashion. He, with­out Competition, is the Principal Person in the Comedy, and therefore the Youn­ger Brother, or the Fortunate Cheat, had been much a more proper Name. Now when a Poet can't rig out a Title Page, 'tis but a bad sign of his holding out to the Epilogue.’

Here I am afraid this Gentleman that has so curiously examined through the whole Play, has unfortunately read but half the Title Page. For is not the Play call'd, The Relapse; or, Virtue in Danger, being the Se­quel of the Fool in Fashion? And did not all the Play-house Bills call it the Second Part of the Fool in Fashion? And consequently is not here Lovelace, Amanda, Lord Fopping­ton, all the whole Walks of the Play, &c. the full Contents of the Fabrick express'd in the Frontispiece? And why, the Younger Cheating Brother is a greater Person in the Play than the Elder Cheated Brother, when the Younger is only concerned in the [Page 5] Walk of Sir Tunbelly, and the Elder through the whole Play with Amanda, Love­lace, &c. is that unaccountable Riddle, that nothing but such an Oedipus as Mr. Collier can solve?

Now if his Twelve Leaves of Remarks upon that Play, end no better then they be­gin, 'tis shrewdly to be suspected that the Re­marker has more bad signs of not holding out, than the Relapser.

‘2dly, I observe the Moral is vicious. It points the wrong way, and puts the Prize into the wrong Hand. It seems to make Lewdness the Reason of Desert, and gives Young Fashion a second For­tune, only for Debauching away his first. A short view of his Character will make good this Reflection. To begin with him, He confesses himself a Rake, Swears and Blasphemes, Curses and Challenges his Elder Brother, cheats him of his Mistress, and gets him lay'd by the Heels in a Dog-Kennel. And what was the Ground of all this unnatural Quarrelling and Out­rage? Why the Main of it was only be­cause Lord Foppington refus'd to supply his Luxury and make good his Extrava­gance. This Young Fashion after all is the Poets Man of Merit. He provides a [Page 6] Plot and a Fortune on purpose for him. To speak freely, a Lewd Character sel­dom wants good Luck in a Comedy: So that when ever you see a thorough Liber­tine, you may almost swear he is in a Ri­sing way, and that the Poet intends to make him a great Man. In short, this Play perverts the End of Comedy, &c. For the Relapsers Moral holds forth this notable Instruction. First that all Younger Bro­thers should be careful to run out their Circumstances as fast, and as ill as they can; And when they have put their Af­fairs into this posture they may conclude themselves in the High Road to Wealth and Success. For as Fashion Blasphemous­ly applys it, Providence takes care of Men of Merit. 2dly. That when a Man is prest, his Business is not to be govern'd by Srcu­ples, or to formalize upon Conscience and Honesty. The quickest Expedients are the best for in such Cases the occasion justifies the Means, and a Knight of the Post is as good as one of the Garter.’

In this View of Young Fashion, I won­der by what unintelligible Light of Disco­very this Characterizer finds him that Blas­phemer, Lewd Debauchee, or Thorough Liber­tine, as he's here set out. 'Tis true his Man Lory in a piece of Rally, puts the Iacobite [Page 7] upon him. But that I suppose is none of the Blots in Young Fashion's Scutcheon; at least of Mr. Colliers Discovery.

But to draw this Libertine to the full Length. He is a Young Fellow, Brother to a Baronet, (now a Lord) Guilty of no Vice but Extravagance; this Extravagance too, amounts to no more, then that he has spent 500 l. anticipated upon his Annuity of 200 l. per Annum; not in Whoredome, Dice, Ry­ot, nor any other Brutal Prodigality, but only in three Years Travel beyond Sea, Tra­vel that has been accounted the most Ho­nourable Improvement of a Gentleman; a great part of this Extravagance occasion'd possibly to bear up the Port of his Birth, and the Honour of his Family; a Sin not alto­gether so Capital; nor his Circumstances so very ill run out, as this Remarker endea­vours to perswade us. This is the whole Character of Young Fashion, excepting what relates afterwards to his cheating his Brother; and what ground he stands up­on there, how far the Debauch, the Libertine, or the Knight of the Post, we shall exa­mine.

This Young Extravagant, 'tis true, at his return to London, resents his unhappy Cir­cumstances, the low Ebb of his Pocket, [Page] with a little too free Air of a Gentleman; does not fall upon his Knees like the Prodi­gal at the Swine Trough, a Fault perhaps scarce pardonable with the Divine Mr. Collier.

However in this Distress he applyes him­self to his Brother, not an Addressor to his Periwig, his Crevate, his Feather or his Snush-box, as Lory advises: For he abso­lutely declares against so low-spirited and servile a baseness as Flattery. His Brother, whom he finds newly Lordified, is so ta­ken up with his Looking glass and Dres­sing-Box, and his whole Wardrobe Reti­nue, that he scarce speaks to him, takes less notice of him, gives him that cold wel­come, though after three Years absence, and uses him with all that Scorn and Contempt, as justly provokes our Young Spark to no little Indignation against him. Here Cou­pler enters, caresses Young Fashion, tells him what Match he had made for his Brother with Sir Tunbelly's Daughter, in conside­ration of a Bond of a 1000 l. for helping him to this Fortune; and for 5000 l. from Young Fashion, agrees to cheat the Lord, and so manage the Game as to carry the Prize for the Squire. In the Raptures of which fair hopes, Fashion tells Lory, Provi­dence thou seest takes care of Men of Merit, we are in a fair way of being great People. Now this is the whole Sum total of Young Fa­shion's [Page] Blasphemy. Had he said Fortune, Fate, Destiny, or the Kind Stars had took such care of Merit, it had been much at one; so little is the Divinity pointed at, or touch'd in this Expression.

But notwithstanding this fair occasion offer'd, not only to revenge all the Indig­nity receiv'd from his Brother, but to En­rich himself with a Fortune of 1500 l. per Annum; yet all this Temptation will not carry the Point, provided his Brother will but supply him with poor 500 l. to redeem his Annuity. Accordingly, he says, ‘ I'll try my Brother to the Bottom, I'll speak to him with the Temper of a Philosopher, my Reasons, (though they press him home) shall be cloathed with so much Modesty, not one of all the Truths they urge shall be so naked to offend his sight; if he has yet so much Hu­manity as to assist me, (though with a mode­rate Aid) I'll drop my project at his Feet, and shew him I can do for him, much more then I ask he'd do for me, &c. Relapse. page 20.’

This very address he makes to his Bro­ther in all the Terms of Modesty, and finds him so wholly inveterate, so deaf to all Argu­ments of Reason, Justice or Pity, though to save him from Starving or Hanging; [Page 10] that upon this only Repulse, he enters into Couplers Plot, and puts on the Iacob's false Hands for the Blessing; resolving to Cheat the Lord and carry the Lady. Now how much this Play perverts the end of Comedy, which as Monsieur Rapin (he tells us) ob­serves, ought to regard Reformation and Im­provement, will soon be examin'd.

As the Lord Foppington's is the Character of the Play, justly design'd to be most ex­posed; accordingly by the Rules of Comedy, his Pride, his Vanity, his unnatural Inhu­manity to his own Brother, and all the other Vices of his Character, ought to be punish'd, with all the Insults, Defeats, Dis­appointments and Shame, that the Drama­tick Justice can heap upon him, through the whole Play. But as no over-reach or de­feat in Comedy can well be performed, but by some Fraud or Cheat or other; and con­sequently he that carries on the Cheat, can­not reach to the full heights of a perfect Character, viz. wholly unblemish'd; how­ever 'tis the work of the Poet in that Case to raise those just Provocations for every such Insult, and lay that reasonable Ground for every such Cheat, especially in the pro­sperous Characters of the Comedy; that their Successes, in the Catastrophe of the Play, may seem the Reward of some Virtue and [Page 11] Iustice even in the Cheat himself, compara­tive to the Vice and Injustice they pu­nish.

This Ingenious Conduct of Comedy is highly justified in the Authors admirable Fabrick in this part of his Relapse: For here's a Younger Brother under no better Paternal Provision then 200 a year Annuity, which at seven Years, the Lifes purchase, is worth little more then a 1000 l. whilst the Elder Brother runs away with 5000 l. per Annum Inheritance, to the value of a 100000. l. Yet this Younger Brother, that in all Equity might expect some reasonable Favour and Succour from his Elder Brother, if for no other Consideration than the une­qual Division of the Estate between 'em, has those innate Principles of Honour and Vir­tue, as to sit down contented with the ho­nest Reparation of his Morgaged Annuity, at the poor price of 500 l. rather then Em­brace the Temptation of a Fair Lady, and 1500 l. per Annum thrown into his Arms by any Irregular or Fraudulent Means.

But when this unmerciful Brother thus shamefully denys him so inconsiderable a Trifle, and all to the reparing the Breach­es of so Innocent an Extravagance in his Honourable Travels: Thus the inevitable [Page 12] prospect of starving on one side, and the just resentments of a Brothers unnatural Barbarity on the other, carry that Face of Justification along with the Cheat; that a­mong all the Thousand Patrons of that Darling Play, I fancy this strait-lac'd high Moralist Mr. Collier, is the only Repiner at Young Fashion's Felicity in the Arms of Miss Hoyden; and if the Author be never Duell'd but upon that Quarrel, undoubted­ly he may die in his Bed. Nay, besides Young Fashion's supplanting his Brothers pretensions, here's another piece of Poetick Justice in carrying off the Young Heiress: For when the Young Hoyden is thus snared into Wedlock, not by any ignoble rascally Impostor, but a Young Gentleman, at least of equal Birth and Quality with her; the other part of the Delusion, viz. his being a Younger Brother, and a Man of no Estate, seems but an honest Dramatick over-reach, impos'd upon so fordid and avaricious a Cha­racter, so over-cautious a Coxcomb as her Father Sir Tunbelly: Nor is the Young Lady her self, under the meaness of her rustick Education, so Exalted a Character; but that Young Fashion may fairly and innocent­ly carry the Prize, without one murmu­ring Word, or envying Eye from the seve­rest Critick in the whole Audience.

[Page 13] In the next place, Mr. Collier is pleased to look a little into the Plot of the Re­lapse.

‘Here the Poet (he tells you) ought to play the Politician, if ever; this part should have some strokes of Conduct, &c. There should be something that is admirable, and unexpected to surprize the Audience. And all this Fineness must work by gen­tle Degrees, by a due preparation of In­cidents, and by Instruments which are probable [And all the Reason in the World.] 'Tis Mr. Rapin's Remark, That without probability every thing is Lame and Faulty. [He's much in the Right:] Where there is no pretence to Miracle or Machine, Matters must not exceed the Force of Relief. To produce Effects without proportion, and likeli­hood in the Cause is Farce and Magick, and looks more like Conjuring than Con­duct. ['Tis all granted.] Let us examine the Relapser by these Rules. [Ay, and welcome.] To discover his Plot, we must lay open somewhat more of the Fable.’

‘Lord Foppington, a Town Beau, had agreed to Marry the Daughter of Sir Tunbelly Clumsey, who lived Fifty Miles [Page 14] from London. Notwithstanding this small Distance, the Lord had never seen his Mistress, nor the Knight his Son-in-Law.’

And where lies the wonder on either side? Is not Sir Tunbelly that Avaritious Miser, that Interest is all the Concern in his Daughters Disposal; And consequently as long as a Lordship and Five Thousand a Year are full Smithfield Weight in his Scales; the Lord himself may be the Plain­dealer's Leaden-shilling, for any Curiosity he has to be acquainted either with his Per­sonal or any other Accomplishments? And for the same Indifference on my Lord Fop­pington's side; The striking of this blind Bargain for Miss Hoyden, is possibly one of the greatest Master-strokes in the Chara­cter. Is not this Fop, a true Narcissus all along, through both the Plays, in Love with nothing but himself? Has his Match with Miss Hoyden any other Temptation than the gratifying his Pride in Marrying so rich an Heiress; and heightening his Pomp, Luxury and Vanity, by that consi­derable addition of her Fortunes? So that here's no occasion either of disordering him­self or his Coach-horses to run backwards and forwards a Fifty Mile Stage, only to show his own, or see his Mistresses sweet Face.

[Page 15] ‘Both Parties, out of their Great Wis­dom, leave the treating the Match to Coupler, &c. Here we may observe the Lord Foppington has an unlucky Disagree­ment in his Character. This Misfortune is hard upon the Credibility of the De­sign. 'Tis true, he was Formal and Fan­tastick, smitten with Dress and Equi­page, &c. But his Behaviour is far from that of an Ideot. This being granted, 'tis very unlikely this Lord should leave the Choice of his Mistress to Coupler, and take her Person and Fortune upon Con­tent: To Court thus blindfold, and by Proxy, does not agree with the Method of an Estate, nor the Niceness of a Beau, &c. And for Sir Tunbelly, here we have that prudence and wariness (in his Cha­racter) to the Excess of Fable and Phren­sie. And yet this mighty Man of sus­picion trusts Coupler with the Disposal of his only Daughter, and his Estate into the Bargain. And what was this Cou­pler? Why, a Sharper by Character, and little better by Possession.’

Here our Authors Criticismes, like Bay's Plot, begin to thicken upon us. This no­torious Misconduct of the Relapser will not give him a Foyl, but a fair Fall, if he has not a Care: But to recover his Hold, and [Page 16] save him from Tumbling; I remember be­fore the Lord Foppington was invited down to Sir Tunbelly, the Poet tells us, That the Marriage-Settlement was prepared for Sign­ing and Sealing. And now though the Relapser makes Coupler a Match-maker, I cannot see where he makes him a Iointure-maker. Whatever other Faculties he may be Master of, Ne sutor ultra crepidam, I can­not find him either a Coke or a Littleton, or any of those long Robe Gentlemen, a Law Head-piece for drawing of Settle­ments; and consequently we may very reasonably suppose, both on Sir Tunbelly and Lord Foppington's side, here were the Learned in the Law called to the Consult, a preliminary Inspection into Records, the Terra Firma Foundation Examined, and all the precautionary Articles of Treaty adjust­ed, for so important a Cause, before Mat­ters went so far as to send down for the Son-in-Law Elect. So that here's poor Coupler so far from having the Disposal of Sir Tunbelly's Daughter and Estate, that our Diminitive Love-broker has no more Hand in the Affair, then meer starting the Game; 'tis the strength of the Fortune-hun­ter must catch it. And therefore I may presume to say, neither the Lord nor the Knight have hitherto made one false step in their Conduct, to deserve the hard Names [Page 17] of Cuddens and Ideots, Mr. Collier has un­kindly thrown upon them; but may ven­ture to vie Wit even with Mr. Collier him­self; This I am sure, His Critismes savour a great deal more of the Ideotism, then their Politicks, at least in this part of their pru­dential Faculties.

To proceed with the Criticiser.

‘As for Young Fashion, excepting Cou­pler's Letter, he has all imaginable Marks of Imposture upon him. He comes before his time, and without the Retinue expect­ed, and has nothing of the Air of Lord Foppington's Conversation. When Sir Tun­belly ask'd him, Pray where are your Coaches and Servants, my Lord? He makes a trifling Excuse. Sir, that I might give you and your Daughter a Proof how impatient I am to be nearer a Kin to you, I left my Equipage to follow me, and came away Post with only one Servant. To be in such a hurry of Incli­nation for a Person he never saw is some­what strange! Besides, 'tis very unlikely Lord Foppington should hazard his Com­plexion on Horseback, out-ride his Figure, and appear a Bridegroom in Deshabille, &c. As Pomp and Curiosity were this Lords In­clination, why then should he mortifie without Necessity, make his first Approa­ches thus out of Form, and present himself [Page 18] to his Mrs. at such Disadvantage? As this is the Character of Lord Foppington, so 'tis reasonable to suppose Sir Tunbelly acquaint­ed with it. An Inquiry into the Humour and Management of a Son-in-Law is very Natural and Customary: So that we can't without Violence to Sense, suppose Sir Tun­belly a stranger to Lord Foppington's Singu­larities. These Reasons were enough in all Conscience to make Sir Tunbelly suspect a Juggle, and that Fashion was no better then a Counterfeit, &c. why then was the Cre­dential swallow'd without chewing, &c. More wary steps might have been expected from Sir Tunbelly: To run from one Extream of Caution to another of Credulity is high­ly improbable.’

This Misconduct looks almost as formi­dable as the last. For this Critick never Flaggs. Young Fashion comes before his time, &c. That is, Sir Tunbelly had sent a Letter to invite the Lord Foppington down to Marry his Daughter, all the main Wedlock Preliminaries, viz. Joynture, Settlements, all but Consummation already adjusted, &c. And therefore Young Fashion, the supposed Lord Foppington, comes down before his time, because he comes when he is invited; and has all the marks of a Counterfeit Son-in-Law, for obeying his Father-in-Laws Summons. [Page 19] 'Tis true, he makes a little too much speed; Posts down in one Day, when the True Lord makes a two Days Stage of it; And because this Activity of Riding Post does not look like the flower Movement of a Travelling Beau; for this single Gigantick Objection to the Lord Foppington's Veracity, both the Credential of Coupler's Letter, and the very Obedience of Sir Tunbelly's own Command, shall signifie nothing; here may be a Snake in the Grass; the Sir Poli­tick Tunbelly has all the Reason to look a­bout him. For did this Iustice never hear of such a thing as Knavery? [Nor this Cri­tick of such a thing as Foolery?]

However, Sir Tunbelly could be no Stran­ger to the Lord Foppington' s Singularities? Why, truly not over-well acquainted with them at Fifty Miles distance. For if we could suppose Sir Tunbelly so over inquisi­tive, in so needless a Curiosity, about his Son-in-Law; Yet I cannot well appre­hend how all the particular Nicer Singu­larities of a London Beau, should enter the Understanding of a Country Clodpate Ju­stice upon a bare Description only; but ra­ther that this very Riding down Post, with his Equipage following behind him, might look like as Natural a Singularity, of so Fantastick a Character, as any other of his [Page 20] Fantasticks, and rather confirm Sir Tunbel­ly's Faith then shake it. And why should Sir Tunbelly's Intellects suspect an Impostor in his Beau Son-in-Law, for appearing be­fore his Mrs. in his half Glory the first Day, viz. in Deshabille, to Dazle her in his full Glory the next? Or rather is not this Critick a little too hard upon that whole prevailing Party the Beaux, when he will not allow one Cavalier amongst 'em all, that dares trust his Complexion but to one Days Journey on Horseback?

‘But now for the true Lord's Misconduct. His going down to Sir Tunbelly, was as extraordinary as his Courtship. He had never seen this Gentleman. He must know him to be beyond measure suspicious, and that there was no Admittance without Cou­pler's Letter. This Letter was the Key to the Castle: he forgot to take it with him, and tells you, 'twas stol'n by his Brother Tam. And for his part he neither had the Discre­tion to get another, nor yet to produce that written by him to Sir Tunbelly. [that writ­ten to him by Sir Tunbelly, I suppose he means] Had common Sense been consulted upon this occasion, the Plot had been at an End, and the Play had sunk in the Fourth Act.’

[Page 21] But to consult common Sense in this case, possibly a little farther then this Critick himself has done;

First then, let us inquire into the Strength of this Castle Key, viz. without which there was no admittance. This we have in the Fifth Act, after Young Fashion's Re­turn to Town, by a Letter of the Lord's to Coupler from the Country, viz.

Whatever Introductory Power, this Let­ter formerly written by Coupler, (possibly more a Flourish upon the Merits of the Noble Peer the Bearer, than any considera­ble Key to his Admission) might be suppo­sed to carry; yet upon the Receipt of Sr. Tunbelly's particular Invitation, this Cou­pler's Letter, (however serviceable to the smaller Figure of the false Lord, Young Fashion, and necessary to his Plot) was so little wanted to the True Lords Approa­ches; that what could he expect less than [Page 22] that the Gates were all ready to fly open at his Appearance? Could the Lord Fopping­ton's Vanity and Pride, with an Equipage of twenty Liverys and two Coaches and Six, and so solemnly invited, think so little of himself, as to want any old or new Pas­port from Coupler, when such mutual sa­tisfaction on both sides had paved his way, and so much Grandeur carried its own Credentials; so that the preservation either of one Letter or the other, upon so poor a score as a Testimonial of his Veracity, was rather below the thoughts of a Lord Fop­pington; and all this more an Essential to his Character then a disagreement or blemish in it.

This dead - doing Critick thus flush'd with all this success against the Relapser, is resolved to make through Work with his slaughtering Hand, and consequently the Characters in the Play, shall be as Monstrous as the Conduct.

‘Let us see how Sr. Tunbelly hangs to­gether. This Gentleman, the Poet, makes a Justice of Peace, and a Deputy Lieutenant, and Seats him fifty Miles from London; but by his Character you would take him for one of Hercules's Monsters, or some Gyant in Guy of War­wick. [Page 23] His Behaviour is altogether Ro­mance, and has nothing agreeable to Time or Country, &c.’

The Stage Paintings of Dramatick Poetry have always been allow'd to take the Features a little larger than the Life. And generally there's a very strong Reason for it. For 'tis not One Fool that sits for the Picture; but the Imagery in one single Character some­times may include a whole Sect of Fools or Knaves. How many excellent Dramatick pieces would otherwise be lost, such as a Morose in the Silent Woman, Sir Nicolas Jimcrack, in the Virtuoso, and indeed most of the Characters of Fools or Humorists, if their Authors had no Poetical grains of allowance for a little stretch in the Pencil work? And for the Romantick Sir Tun­belly; in my weak Eye-sight, he looks no more like one of Hercules's Monsters in his over-cautious Guardianship of his Rich Heiress; then Mr. Collier, like an Herculean Champion, in his Batteling the Stage: Nay, I am rather afraid Mr. Collier instead of do­ing the work of a Hercules, has found work for one; whilst he has heap'd Dirt enough, (not of the Stages, but of his own) for an Augaeas's Stable.

[Page 24] Next let us see how he makes Miss Hoy­den hang together.

‘Here is a Compound of ill Manners and Contradiction. Is this a good resem­blance of Quality, a Description of a great Heiress, and the Effect of a cautious Education? By her Coursness you would think her Bred upon a Common. To present her thus unhewn, he should have suited her Condition and Name a lit­tle better. If he had resolved to have shewn her thus unpolished, he should have made her keep Sheep, or brought her up at the Wash-bowle.’

If Descent and Education can perform such wonders; yet as high Veins as this Young Lady can boast of, and though an Heiress to 1500 l. per Annum, methinks she has no great Hereditary claim to those Extraordinary good Manners and refin'd Conversation as Mr. Collier expects from her, when she derives from a Sir Tunbelly to her Father: Nay nor any such over-pro­mising Hopes, such very great Effects from her Cautious Education neither, when She liv'd in the Country, fifty Miles off, with her Honoured Parents, in a lone House, which no body comes near, she never goes abroad, nor sees Company at home; to prevent all Misfor­tunes, [Page 25] she has her Breeding within Doors: The Parson of the Parish Teaches her to Play on the Base-Viol, the Clerk to Sing, her Nurse to Dress, and her Father to Dance. Relapse, page 18.

Now considering both her Genealogy, and her Nursery, methinks the Relapser's Miss Hoyden, though a little of the Coursest, is not that unnatural Flower, when rear'd from such a Root, and in such a Garden. But if this peevish unsatisfied Naturalist, will expect such Miracles of Perfection, Wit, Manners, Politeness, and all from so uncultivated a piece of Quality; methinks this Critick would make a rare Courtier to King Pharoah, for he's most Divinely Qua­lify'd for an Egyptian Task-master.

He has much the same Quarrel against the Lord Foppington.

‘Vanity and Formalizing is his part. To let him speak without Aukwardness and Affectation, is to put him out of his Ele­ment. There must be Gum and Stifning in his Discourse to make it Natural. How­ever the Relapser has taken a Fancy to his Person, and given him some of the most gentile Raillery in the whole Play. To give an Instance or two, This Lord in Discourse with Fashion forgets his Name, [Page 26] flies out into Sense and smooth Expres­sion, out-talks his Brother, and abating the Starch'd Similitude of a Watch, dis­covers nothing of Affectation, for almost a page together. He relapses into the same Intemperance of good sense, in another Dialogue between him and his Brother.’

This fault Mr. Collier has here found in the Lord Foppington, he resolves shall outdo his own perfections. 'Tis true this Critick flies out generally into smooth Expression, but not into overmuch Sense; but however he has given you a very stanch Reason why good Sense in this case, should be the least of his Care. For being a Virtuous, Modest and Sober Gentleman, possibly he thinks it a piece of his Christian Duty to guard himself safe from Lapsing into Intemperance.

But methinks this Gentleman might have read in an Old Greek Authority,

A Fool may sometimes throw in a word to the purpose. Besides this Critick strangely for­gets himself. For 'twas but four pages be­fore that he himself was clearing Lord Fop­pington's Character, bating his Vanity, For­mality and Fantastickness, from any thing that looks like Fool or Idiot. And why he [Page 27] Quarrels a Man that's no Fool, for speaking a little Sense, is somewhat unaccountable. But if the plain Truth were known, he is not so pettish at the Lord Foppington's speak­ing Sense, as the Relapser's writing it. Ay! there's the Heart burning! This unhappy Author, whether because he's none of his own Royalists, or has not made his Parson Bull one of them, or lies unabsolved for some other heinous Transgression; one way or other, he languishes under the utter Dis­pleasure of the angry and irreconcileable Mr. Collier.

The next Critick Work he takes in hand are the three Unities of Time, Place and Action; and to shew us how far the Relapse breaks those Rules.

‘The Design of these Rules is to con­ceal the Fiction of the Stage, to make the Play appear more Natural, and to give it an Air of Reality and Conversa­tion. The largest compass for the first Unity is Twenty four Hours; but a less proportion is more Regular, &c. The whole Business of the Play should not be much longer then the time it takes up in Playing. To observe the second Unity, the Scene must not wander from one Town or Country to another. It [Page 28] must continue in the same City, where it was first laid, &c. The third Uni­ty, viz. of Action, consists in contriving the chief Business of the Play single, &c. All the Forces of the Stage must as it were serve under one General, &c. To represent two considerable Actions inde­pendant of each other destroys the Beau­ty of Subordination, weakens the Con­trivance, and dilutes the Pleasure. It splits the Play, and makes the Poem dou­ble. He that would see more upon this Subject may consult Corneille.’

These Unities are no new Stage-Doctrin, but what, by some of the greatest Modern Brothers of the English Quill has been very often, most Learnedly, and I much fear, as impertinently handled. For the strict Ob­servation of these Corneillean Rules, are as Dissonant to the English Constitution of the Stage, as the French Slavery to our English Liberty. 'Tis true, that strictness may be much more practicable in the French Model of Plays; and for this amazing Reason, viz. that the French who are the sprightliest Conversation of all People in the World, can nevertheless be the dullest of Mankind at their Play-houses; can be contented to hear a Play made up of a short-winded Plot, and a few long-winded Speeches, much a­bout [Page 29] enough for the Argument of one of our Acts, and go home as much regaled as from a Misers Feast: And the Devils in't if their Dramatick Authors cannot furnish out so scanty a Banquet, with all the fore­mention'd Unities; and pride in it accord­ingly.

I shall expatiate a little more then Ordi­nary upon this Argument, not only to an­swer Mr. Collier, but also some Modern woud­be-Criticks, that are wonderfully tickl'd with their own nicer Stage performances, under this strict Cornelian Model of Unities. First then I shall so far joyn with Mr. Col­lier, That concealing the Fiction of the Stage; and making the Play appear with the more Air of Reality, is a great work of the Poet. For indeed Dramatick Poetry, is Supported chiefly by Theft and Delusion. The Ima­ges we steal or borrow, whether Histori­cal or Fictitious, must be set out with all that liveliest Art, that like Zeuxes his Grapes or Apelles his Curtain, the Picture may best deceive. For Poetry, especially the Dramatick, is but Painting; only this Picture finds a Tongue; and is a speaking Painting. I had occasion in a late Copy of Verses to give a little Description of Painting, which upon my second Review looks so very applicable to Poetry, that not [Page 30] to treat my Reader with all downright Reasoning, I'll give him a few Taggs of Rhime too, and venture for once to repeat them.

But, (returning to our Argument) not­withstanding all this Analogy between the Pencil Draughts and the Poet's; yet there's one infinite distinction between the Air of reality on the one side and the other. For in a Draught of Pencil Painting, that Air is the whole Perfection of the Piece. A sin­gle Rose, a half Face, the least piece of Life, nay an AEsop or a Cripple, even Defor­mity it self, well perform'd, shall carry an Excellence; and consequently this Air of Reality give, the whole Delight. But in the Dramatick Painting, that Air is only the Handmaid to our delight, only the Light to set off the Picture. 'Tis the Charms and Beauties of the Object Painted, not the Painting it self that gives the compleat sa­tisfaction and pleasure. Here therefore Mr. Collier has layd a little too much stress upon his Air of Reality (the Foundation of his [Page 32] Unity Rules;) as if the Entertainment of the Stage lay only in the well performance in that point, when in has a prospect in­finitely beyond it.

Now therefore, as the Painter is not so much to please himself, but him that buys the Picture; so (to leave the Allegory and come closer to the point,) we must examine what sort of Dramatick Entertainment will please an English Audience, and that will shew us how far his Unity Rules will bear in Eng­land, and consequently settle the whole Controversie between us.

Here the shortest way to tell you what will please an English Audience, I think, is to look back and see what has pleased them. And here let us first take a view of our best English Tragedies, as our Hamlet, Mack­beth, Iulius Caesar, Oedipus, Alexander, Ti­mon of Athens, Moor of Venice, and all the rest of our most shining Pieces. All these, and the Rest of their Honourable Brethren, are so far from pent up in Corneilles nar­rower Unity Rules, viz. the Business of the Play confined to no longer Time then it takes up in the Playing; or his largest Compass of 24 Hours; that nothing is so ridiculous as to pretend to it.—The Sub­jects of our English Tragedies are generally [Page 33] the whole Revolutions of Governments, States or Families, or those great Transa­ctions; that our Genius of Stage-poetry can no more reach the Heights that can please our Audience, under his Unity Shack­les, then an Eagle can soar in a Hen-coop. If the French can content themselves with the sweets of a single Rose-bed; and no­thing less then the whole Garden, and the Field round it, will satisfie the English; eve­ry Man as he likes: Corneille may reign Master of his own Revels; but he is neither a Rule-maker nor a Play-maker for our Stage. And the Reason is plain: For as Delight is the great End of Playing, and those narrow Stage-restrictions of Corneille destroy that Delight, by curtailing that Variety that should give it us; every such Rule therefore is Nonsense and Contradi­ction in its very Foundation. Even an E­stablish'd Law, when it destroys its own Preamble, and the Benefits design'd by it, becomes void and null in it self.

'Tis true, I allow thus far, That it ought to be the chief care of the Poet, to confine himself into as narrow a Compass as he can, without any particular stint, in the two First Unities of Time and Place; for which end he must observe two Things. First upon occasion (suppose in such a Sub­ject [Page 34] as Mackbeth) he ought to falsifie even History it self. For the Foundation of that Play in the Chronicles, was the Action of 25 Years: But in the Play we may sup­pose it begun and finish'd in one third of so many Months. Young Malcom and Donal­bain, the Sons of Duncomb, are but Chil­dren at the Murder of their Father, and such they return with the Forces from Eng­land to revenge his Death: whereas in the true Historick Length they must have set out Children and return'd Men. Second­ly, the length of Time, and distance of Place required in the Action, ought to be never pointed at, nor hinted in the Play. For example, neither Malcomb nor Donal­bain must tell us, how long they have been in England to raise those Forces, nor how long those Forces have been Marching into Scotland; nor Mackbeth how far Schone and Dunsinane lay asunder, &c. By this means the Audience, who come both willing and prepar'd to be deceiv'd, (populus vult decipi, &c.) and indulge their own Delusion, can pass over a considerable distance both of Time and Place unheeded and unminded, if they are not purposely thrown too openly in their way, to stumble at. Thus Hamlet, Iulius Caesar and those Historick Plays shall pass glibly; when the Audience shall be al­most quite shockt at such a Play as Henry [Page 35] the 8th. or the Dutchess of Malfey. And why, because here's a Marriage and the Birth of a Child, possibly in two Acts; which points so directly to Ten Months length of time, that the Play has very lit­tle Air of Reality, and appears too much unnatural. In this case therefore 'tis the Art of the Poet to shew all the Peacocks Train, but as little as possible of her Foot.

And as to the second Unity of Place. Here our Audience expect a little Variety, viz. some change of Scene. To continue it all on one spot of Ground, in one Chamber or Room, would rather disgust then please: And an Author that toyls for any such difficiles Nugae, such an over-curious Unity, only labours to be dull; and de­serves a success accordingly.

Now for these two Unities in our Come­dies. Though that Inferior Walk of Fa­ble may come into a little narrower enclo­sure of Time and Place then Tragedy; how­ever we rarely meet with a good Comedy-plot all fairly lodged under one single Roof, and dancing within the Circle of twenty four Hours; much less in the Acting Time of the Play. 'Tis true we have an Adven­ture of Five Hours in some Quondam Repu­

[Page] scribble of small Reputation, that possibly have crampt themselves into much the same Circumference; and the Authors per­haps not a little Vain in the wrong place; and challenging a Merit for e'en just no­thing. However the general Cast of all our best Comedies take a great deal larger liberty then these precise Limitations, and lose little or no Air of their Reality by that Freedom. However our Audience have naturally such a Dispensing Goodness, in relation to these Tyrannick Rules, that they are never for tying up good Wit and good Plot to so short a Teddar, as to pinch and starve them. And thus in the case of the Relapse, our Audience are so far from angry at Lord Foppingtons or Young Fashi­on's Travels to Sir Tunbelly's, that they ra­ther wish 'em a good Journey, and find the whole Entertainment there worth fifty Miles Ramble for; and their own Diver­sion not at all too dear bought, for being so far fetch'd.

To come to our last Unity of Action. Here both Corneille and his Voucher, are both as down-right dull, and as seriously impertinent, (as to our Stage Regulation) as their worst Enemies cou'd wish 'em. The contriving the chief Business of our Plays single, [Page] is so nauseous to an English Audience, that they have almost peuk'd at a very good Dish for no other Fault. For example Mr. Gildon's Phaeton, that almost sunk under that only Disrelish. On the contrary here must be Under-plots, and considerable ones too, possibly big enough to justle the Up­per-plot, to support a good English Play; nay though the Under-plots do not much fight under the great General, and consequent­ly the Play splits and the Poem is double, as Mr. Collier calls it; yet this instead of wea­kening the Contrivance or Diluting our Plea­sure, shall rather strengthen the one, and double the other. For instance in such a Play as the Spanish Fryer. Here's Gomez, Elvira and Father Dominick, &c. so far from marching under the Bannors of Tor­rismond or Leonora, that 'tis enough they are Subjects of the same Government, and Denizens within the same City Walls, to recommend them to so considerable an un­derwalk in the same Play. And though as Mr. Collier very fancifully observes. This strangeness of Persons, distinct Company, and Inconnexion of Affairs, destroys the Unity of the Poem. And that therefore the Contrivance is just as wise as it would be to cut a Diamond into two. Increasing the Number, abates the Value, and by making it more, you make it less. Yet suppose the Audience in the [Page 38] same Play of the Spanish Fryer, instead of Fancying Mr. Dryden has cut one Diamond into two, should be rather of the Opinion, that he has joyn'd two Diamonds together, and so gives us a Locket, instead of a single Jewel; and consequently both the Luster and Value increased; how will this Dia­mond-splitter get himself off? And will not the World be apt to think him as indiffe­rent a Lapidary as he's a Critick?

Now, Reader, as I have here stated the whole Prowess of Mr. Collier, and mu­ster'd all his Forces against the Relapse (his Batteries of Immorality and Profaness against it only excepted; and upon that Subject the Ingenious Author has taken up a much abler Pen of his own:) so I hope I have done him all this publick Right, as to inform the World, that he never de­viates from himself. His Divinity Le­ctures and his Critic ones, are spoken with the same Oraculous Eloquence: He keeps up to his Principles, and lapses into no more Intemperance of Reason in the one then the other.

But some untoward Reflections I can­not forbear, viz. upon Mr. Collier's so extraor­dinary Dudgeon against that Play. Has the Author sinn'd more then any of his other pro­sane [Page 39] Brothers of the Quill, that the Divine Spirit of Mr. Collier, Tantae animis coelestibus Irae, swells so very high against him? Or has this singular Critick, in all this direct Contradiction to the whole Opinion of the Town, concerning the Relapse, either the same value of his own Judgment, as the Philosopher at his Morality Lecture had of Plato's, viz. Plato est mihi pro omnibus: And consequently his own single dissenting Au­thority out-weighs all their whole United Favour to that Play? Or rather (now I fancy I have hit it) as he has all along en­deavour'd through his Learned View, &c. to prove the whole Audience wanted their Christian Senses about them, when they can relish the present Profaness and Debau­chery of the Stage; so he's resolved to deny 'em their Common Senses too, when they can hug so Monstrous a Darling as the Re­lapse.

Having in my first Part of my Review, already discharg'd a great Load of some of the most Capital Blasphemies from King Arthur, Amphytrion, &c. I should proceed in clearing some more of the Inferiour Rub­bish of that kind from the Stage. But as a great part of that work has been done to my hands, by the Ingenious Author of the Relapse; I shall rather only make some ge­neral [Page 40] Observations of that part of Mr. Col­liers Remarks.—Here I must acknow­ledge there's some looser expressions of that kind that may admit of Censure and Correction; yet Mr. Collier's Charge a­gainst them is too vehemently aggravated with too Remote and Uncharitable Misre­presentations. Besides all those too loose or Libertine Expressions are charged as the pri­vate Sense of the Author, when a great many of them are only the Language of the Li­bertine Characters that speak them. For Instance the Lord Foppington says, Sunday is a vile Day, I must confess; a Man must have little to do at Church that can give an account of the Sermon. Is this ‘any laughing at the Publick Solemnities of Religion, as if 'twas a ridiculous piece of Ignorance to pretend to the Worship of God?’ Does this Expression of Lord Foppington amount to any more, then that he has no kindness for Sundays, because they baulk his Course of Pleasures; and that if he goes to Church 'tis not to mind the Sermon, but to Ogle the Ladies? And is this answer to Amanda any thing but what the Audience would expect from a Fop of his Vanity? And what the Au­thor therefore has but honestly put into his Mouth? And is it for that Reason the Sense of the Author himself?

[Page 41] The Fool in the Psalmist, says in his Heart, there is no God; but I hope Mr. Col­lier will not tell us the Psalmist himself says so. If the Poet was accountable for every Excursion, Levity, Loosness or Atheism it self from every Character in his Play, the Author of the Libertine Destroy'd, if he were alive, would have a long Black Scroll to answer for; in his Don John and his two wicked Companions: at least if Mr. Col­lier had the handling of him.

But granting the Poets have Launch'd a little too boldly, and have put the Liber­tine Language in the wrong Mouths; yet still Mr. Collier has made but a very lame Collection of them; when the greater part of his Quotations have so little shadow of offence, that nothing but Mr. Colliers Magnifying-glass can discover them.

For Instance,

Sir Sampson, in Love for Love says, Nature has been provident only to Bears and Spiders. ‘This (says Mr. Collier) is the Authors Paraphrase on the 139th Psalm. And thus he gives God thanks for the Advantage of his Being. The Play ad­vances from one Wickedness to ano­ther, &c.’

[Page] Could any Interpreter but himself have made this Gloss upon that poor Text? or who but the bold Mr. Collier durst have brought God himself upon the Stage, from so Innocent an Expression? But Mr. Colli­er's Readers are desired not to be over-sur­priz'd at so many Visionary Profanations and Blasphemies as hee'll meet with through that Learned Author. For to tell you the Truth, the Arguing part is not so much his Business, as the Conjuring. His Work is not so much to find the Devils upon the Stage, as to raise 'em there.

‘In the Fourth Act of Don Sebastian, Mu­stapha Dates his Exaltation to Tumult from the second Night of the Month Abib. Thus you have the Holy Text abused by Capt. Tom, and the Bible torn by the Rab­ble. The design of this Liberty I can't understand, unless it be to make Mustapha as considerable as Moses, and the preva­lence of a Tumult as much a Miracle, as the Deliverance out of Egypt.’

Here Mustapha, a Moor of Barbary, for no­thing but speaking a word in his own Lan­guage, and calling the Month Abib in its proper Name, because forsooth that Month is mention'd in Scripture, is therefore Tea­ring of Bibles, setting up new Prophets [Page] equaling Moses, and Bantering of Mira­cles.

If every Word in the Bible, upon its ad­mission into Holy Writ, is so exalted and incorporated into the Divinity, that it must never descend into the World again, nor enter profane Lips or Humane Conversa­tion, under the premunire of Irreligion or Blasphemy; at this rate a Man must have a care how he sends for his Cloak, or a Scho­lar for his Books, especially upon a Stage, for fear of Burlesquing of Scripture, Ban­tering of Apostles, and even profaning the very Gospel it self; and Why? Does not St. Paul in his Divine Writ, desire Timothy to bring him his Cloak his Books and his Parchments?

Well, to shew my Reader that Mr. Col­lier is not the only Muster-Master General of the Black List of the Stage Blasphemies. I durst lay him a Wager, that I'll cull him a whole Set of them, out of the poor Inno­cent Sir Martin Marral, as topping ones as the very biggest in his whole Collection, and all founded upon as Natural a Constru­ction, &c. And possibly in so doing, I may give my Reader a little clearer Light into the Strength and Dint of Mr. Collier's Elo­quent Reasoning upon that Subject.

[Page 44] To begin therefore at the lower Form, and so rise Gradatim. Warner says of Sir Martin. His Follies are like a Sore in a Sur­feited Horse: Cure it in one place, and it will break out in another. Is not this plain Bur­lesque upon Holy Scripture, and a profane Ralley upon the Divine Solomon himself? For does not he tell us, Bray a Fool in a Morter, yet his foolishness will not de­part from him. And tho' Mr. Dryden, for his incurable Fool, does not borrow the Words, he borrows the plain Sense from So­lomon; and his disguising the Language, (to speak like Mr. Collier) is too thin a Screen to cover the profanation.

I am resolved to Kill my self.

You are Master of your own Body.

Will you let me damn my Soul?

At your pleasure, as the Devil and you can agree about it.

What, does this Author make a Jest of Damnation? The most serious Considera­tion of Death and Eternity thus trifled with? ‘ Is there no Diversion without insult­ing the God that made us, the Goodness that would save us, and the Power that can Damn us? page 95. I can't forbear expressing my self with some warmth under these provocati­ons; what Christian can be unconcern'd at such Intollerable Abuses? page 80.’

Pret­ty Innocence! let me sit nearer to you, you don't understand what Love I bear you; I vow it is so pure, my Soul's not sullied with one spot of Sin. Were you a Daughter or a Sister to me, with a more Holy Flame I could not Burn.

How now! What is this Hypocrite Li­bertine, in seducing his Young Mrs. Court­ing her in the very Language of Divine Inspiration? For who can burn with Holy Flames, but Saints, Confessors and Martyrs? Nay does not the Divine Spouse, the very Type of our Saviour, in the Canticles, all along burn with Holy Flames?

‘What a spight have these Men to the God that Made them, and the Saviour that Redeemed them? How do they Re­bell upon his Bounty, and attack him with his own Reason? These Gyants in wickedness, how would they Ravage with a Stature proportionable? They that can swagger in Impotence, and Blaspheme upon a Mole-hill! What would they do, if they had strength to their good Will?’

Well well, I am a Fool! but what am I the nearer for being one?

Oh, yes; a great deal the nearer: For now Fortune is bound to provide for you, as Hospitals are Built for Lame People that can't help themselves.

What does this Author mean by For­tune? Is not this spoken by the principal Character, the only Man of Sense in the Play? And coming from the Mouth of a Christian; consequently, here are no Pagan Divinities in the Scheme (page 83) Fortune is no Goddess in the Christian Theology, 'tis the Divine Providence alone, is the Dis­penser of our Humane Blessings. ‘So that all the Atheistick Raillery must point upon the true God. Here Profaness is shut out from Defence, and lies open without Colour or E­vasion:’ For is not here under the No­tion or Name of Fortune, even Divine Pro­vidence, and what's that but G—himself, ‘(Oh the very Essence and Spirit of Blasphe­my!) brought in upon the most ridiculous Oc­casion? viz. to provide for a Fool?’ Nay, he's bound, tyed, obliged; 'tis no less then his very Duty to provide for him. Oh Ex­ecrable, Execrable! ‘Tis too hideous to lye upon Paper.’

Nay the latter half of the Diabolical Sen­tence savours almost as rank of the Cloven-Foot, as the beginning. For is not here a [Page 47] Sarcastical squint upon Hospitals? And pray what are Hospitals, but the most Religious Foundations of Charity; and possibly the most shining Structures of Christianity! Let your Light so shine, that Men may see your good Works, and Glorifie your Father which is in Heaven. Besides are not those Hospitals generally of Royal Foundation? And there­fore does not this Scurrilous Scribler rally even upon Crown'd-Heads themselves? Nay does not One of those Hospitals stand upon a Protestant Foundation, Rais'd by the Pious Young Edward? And dare this Im­pudent Banterer pass his scoffing Jests upon the very Reformation? In short, he begins his most audacious Profaness upon the Ma­jesty of Heaven, and ends it upon the Ma­jesty of Kings.

Warner tells Sir Martin, That his Mi­stress is to be Married in Private, to save the Effusion of Christian Money. What! Is the Title of Christian, the very Badg of our Faith, and Seal of our Baptism, given to that filthy Idol Money? Are we setting up the Old Golden Calf, and displaying the very Bannor of our Salvation before him? The design of this Liberty I cannot under­stand, unless it be the making a God of Mammon, the Chests of Old Moody the Shrine of the Deity, and the squandering [Page 48] the least Relique from so Sacred a Divini­ty, as much as the Effusion of the whole Blood of the Martyrs. ‘And all this in a Christian Country, in a Reform'd Church; and in the Face of Authority? Well I perceive the Devil was a Saint in his Oracles, to what he is in his Plays. His Blasphemies are as much improv'd as his Style; and one would think the Muse were Legion.’

Did your Lordship win her soon?

No Madam, but with great Difficulty.

I am glad on't. It shews the Girl had some Religion in her.

Religion! What in playing the Whore! Is not Religion the whole Duty of Man, the whole Basis of Christianity, and the very Key to Heaven? And is this Author therefore making a Saint of a Dalilah, turn­ing Wantonness into Piety, Lewdness into Devotion, &c.

‘This is plain Blasphemy within the Law, comes as it were from the Pandaemo­nium, and almost smells of Fire and Brimstone. This is an Eruption of Hell with a Witness; I almost wonder [Page 49] the Sun, and turn'd 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 in the Sea!’

I could run on with this Spiritual Cant, (for that's the honestest Name I can here give it) and collect you a whole Volume of this kind of Jargon; but this Sample will suffice, to shew you how easy 'tis to extract Blasphemy from Mr. Collier's Lim­beck. And here I'le positively (all jesting laid aside) justify, That these Quotations from honest Sir Martin, have as solid a Foundation for all the foregoing blasphe­mous Constructions; and every Inference I have here made is as Genuine, as above two thirds of Mr. Collier's whole Collection up­on that Topick. Now, if this be really the whole Dint of his Constructive Reasoning, and consequenrly there's nothing here quo­ted, or harangued, but what Mr. Collier might honestly father; I would ask any rational Man, where lies the Blasphemy in the Text, or the Comment; and, Who's the Blasphemer, the Poet, or the Collier? And thus, as Mr. Collier's Top-Eloquence and, Reasoning, stands upon this crazed Basis, Is [Page 50] it not time to wish him clean Straw, a dark Room, and good Nursery, for his Reco­very?

But to make a littler farther Answer to the unreasonable Offence Mr. Collier has ta­ken against the Stage upon the profane Ac­count; we shall give one remarkable Evi­dence, That Profaness, Irreligion, or Irre­verence to God, or his Divine Word, or any Expressions tending to Blasphemy, (however several may be misrepresented such, more than really so) are not willful­ly the Stages Fault. For it has been a cu­stomary Practice, more especially of late, and which has gain'd the very Force of a Law, upon the English Stage; not only to avoid the irreverent, or idle using of the Name of God, but even not to use it at all. For Instance, in all our Plays that are founded upon a Chistian Story; in all the deepest Distresses of Tragedy, where 'tis highly natural, and even as reasonable, (and therefore more Pardonable) for the suffering Characters to start into any Invo­cation, or other Mention, of Heav'n; the Language of that kind, speaks always in the Heathen Dialect: For either Fate, Stars, Destiny; or otherwise, Gods, Powers, Deityes, Immortalls, all in the plural Number, and consequently Heaven and Providence upon [Page 51] the same Heathen Basis, are promiscuously used upon all Occasions. And thus we break the very Unity of the Stage, in bring­ing the old Heathen Theology, to speak English in our own Modern Subjects, on purpose to give no shadow of Offence to the Christian Religion, nor to use that Great Name upon a Fictitious Occasion. 'Tis true the Name of God may sometimes but rarely be used, as for instance by Car­dinal Woolsey after his disgrace, in the Play of Henry the Eighth.

But here, both the Solemness of the Oc­casion, and these the Express Words of Woolsey, taken from the Chronicle, excuse this Liberty. But otherwise even in our Co­medies, we Write and Speak all upon the Heathen Scheme of Divinity; as Philocles in the Mayden Queen.

To answer a little farther to the Danger­ous Impressions upon the Affections, that [Page 52] both the primitive Fathers, and Mr. Collier seem to fear from the Stage, I have this to urge.—If it be Lawful to read a Profane History either True or Romantick; 'tis e­qually, if not more Lawful, to hear that Truth or Romance digested into a Drama, and personally represented on the Stage: And for these Reasons.

But before I proceed, I fancy Mr. Collier will assent with me; That both History and Romance are lawful to be read; I am sure he seems to be strongly of that Opinion in his Introduction to his Remarks upon Don Quixot, where he tells us, ‘This Poet, (meaning Mr. Durfey) writes from the Romance of an ingenious Author: By this means his Sence and Characters are cut out to his Hand. He has wisely planted himself upon the Shoulders of a Gyant; but whether his Discoveries answer the Advantages of his standing, the Reader must judge.’

This high Encomium upon the Author of the Romance of Don Quixot, seems in some measure to applaud, or at least justi­fie the composure it self: And if Fiction, e­ven in its lowest Class, viz. in that Mock Romance, may bear so fair Character from Mr. Collier's own Acknowledgment; sure [Page 53] we may conclude, that History, and the higher Rank of Fiction, may come within the pale of Licenceable and Lawful.

To proceed then with my Argument.

What is History or Romance, but the Re­lation of Human Actions, Passions, and Con­versation? And that Relation Narratively, or Dramatically set forth, differs only in the Modus and Form, not Substance: Thus, whe­ther I read or hear a History or Romance read to me, and consequently what is spo­ken or delivered to me in the single Narra­tion one way, from one Mouth; or in the Theatrick Representation another way, from twenty Mouths; still the difference lies only in the Form and Manner of the Con­veyance of that Truth or Fiction to my Ear, Apprehension and Affections, and not in the Truth or Fiction it self: So that if the Stage be any ways Dangerous or Offensive, that Offence and Danger lies not in the Play or Subject of it, but the bare playing of it, as it is set forth upon our Stages.

What then, so extraordinary does the playing it self perform? Does it imprint the subject of the History, or Fiction, too live­ly in the Fancy, more than the bare Read­ing it can do; and consequently leaves too [Page 54] passionate a Fondness behind it, for any of the Characters represented in the Play? No, quite contrary. For he that Reads a History, or Romance, if a sensible Reader, raises in his own Fancy some Idea of this or that Hero or Heroine, or perhaps Liber­tine or Lover, which he shapes to himself more or less lovely; chiefly from the per­sonal Description of the Character, the Bra­very, the Adventures, and Distresses, &c. which he reads in the History; and partly from his own Humour or Inclinations which possibly may recommend one particular Character, more to his Favour then another. The personal Idea of this Historical or Ro­mantick Favourite, he carries with him from his Closet to his Bed, and can rise with it to morrow: For as 'tis a Form of his own Creation, his Scene of Fancy gives it an Air of Truth and Life.

But when you see the Hero or Heroine, or any other Darling in a Play, 'tis in the person of the Actour or Actress. And tho' this Actour or Actress possibly by their Meins, their Gectures and Actions, for the time they are playing, may transport you into as ma­ny Raptures of Tenderness, Admiration, or what not, as the Darling in the History or Romance; yet here when the Play's done, the Charm is ended. No sooner is the Cur­tain [Page 55] faln, but both the Hero and the Hero­ine are no more to you, than the Betterton and Barry. You carry away the pleasure indeed of knowing you have been wittily cheated for two hours and a half. But all your whole Concern for 'em, even those most lasting Impressions, viz. of Pity and Compassion, are now all over: For you are cheated no longer. And all for this plain reason, viz. you want that darling personal Idea, which the Reading only can give you, not the Playing. 'Tis true, you'l say, the seeing a Play may raise an Affection in us for the Virtues, Honour or Bravery, or pos­sibly for some worse Qualification in some darling Character in a Play, abstracted from the Person in the Play, viz. the Comedian that presents it: However the History or Ro­mance does all this, rather more then the Drama; for much the same reason, as Pre­cept alone is not so prevalent as Precept and Example together, viz. here's nothing but the Charms of the Argument in the Play can leave an Impression; but in the History or Romance, here is not only that Charm, but the personal Charms too in the foremention­ed Idea that make the Impression, and there­by strengthen and heighten the forces of Reading, by a more lasting Image of Reality above those of Actions,

[Page 56] Nay, Reading it self gives us a kind of Theatrical Representation of the whole sub­ject we read. The Reader can no sooner en­ [...]er into a great or passionate Story, but he builds a Stage in his Fancy; he follows, in his Eye of Imagination, both the Hero to the Field, and the Lover to the Bour, the Grott or the Closet; and has not only the aforesaid personal Ideas, but also all the whole Scene of Action painted in his Fancy. And a too dangerous Impression (if such can be receiv­ed from either of them) may as easily be taken from a favourite Character upon this Stage, as the Play-house one. So that if Reading of Books, as 'tis plain, be equally, or rather more dangerous, than Acting of Plays; when Mr. Collier shuts up the Play-houses, and denies the Ladies and Gentle­men their Diversions on the Stage, he must dismantle their Closets too; nay, he must carry his slaughtring hand too, from Drury Lane and little Lincolns-Inn-Fields, to Paul's Church-yard and Little Britain; and make a more general Conflagration amongst them, than that in St. Faith's Church under Pauls after the Fire of London.

Amongst the many Scandals and Offen­ces this Author meets with from the Stage; that of Swearing and Cursing upon it, is a very crying one. 'Tis true he does not de­scend [Page 57] to particulars, and tell us which and what are those Oaths, so frequently used in the Stage. However he quotes a Statute of the 3d of Iac. Chap. 21. against Swearing in the Play-house.

For the preventing, and avoiding of the great Abuse of the Holy Name of God in Stage Plays, and Interludes, &c. Be it Enacted, &c. That if at any time, after the end of this pre­sent Session, &c. Any Person, or Persons do, or shall, in any Stage-Plays, Enterlude, shew, &c. Iestingly or Profanely Speak, or use the Holy Name of God or of Christ Iesus, or of the Holy Ghost, or of the Trinity, which are not to be spoken, but with Fear and Reverence, shall forfeit for every such Offence, &c. Ten Pounds.

‘By this Act not only direct Swearing, but all Invocation of the Name of God is forbidden.’ 'Tis true, Here is Swearing by any or all of the Three Persons in the Godhead, or Speaking, or using their Ho­ly Names, viz. Iestingly or Profanely, (so that Cardinal Woolsey's Naming of God, as men­tioned before, falls not under this Premu­nire) is expressly fordidden by this Act. But all this while, Cursing on the Stage is not at all forbid: Nor the General Rate of Swearing upon the Stage; such as By this Hand. By my Hopes. By this good Light. By Iove. By Heaven's; and a hundred [Page 58] more of them; which though of a Minor Class are all Swearing.

Now as the whole Wisdom of the Nation in Parliament Assembled, at the making this Act of Iac. were here sate in Consult for the Honour of God, and his Great Name; and consequently had Profaness, Cursing, and Swearing immediately under their pious Consideration; and the Play-house in par­licular, in Examination before them: Would not one reasonably imagine, that this great Council of the Nation, would have made more thorough-work of the Reformation, that lay then upon their Hands; and conse­quently, have lay'd some Mulct, or punish­ment, though possibly but of Ten Groats, instead of Ten pounds, upon these Inferiour profanesses of the Stage, viz. If they had thought these Swearings, or the Cursings, upon the Stage, had been Offensive to God, Good Manners or Religion? All this, I say, might very Reasonably be supposed. But on the contrary, their universal Silence in that point looks like a tacit Confession, that, here were both King, Lords, (Spiritual and Temporal) and Commons, a whole Nation, all possess'd with a much more favourable Opinion of the Stage, than Mr. Collier; and not such over-violent Censors of the Faults of it. At this rate a Timons of Athens, with [Page 59] repeated Curses against all Mankind; nay, a raving Oedipus, confounding the whole World, jumbling Earth and Heaven toge­ther; blotting out Sun, Moon and Stars, and leaving the very Gods to Iustle in the Dark; would have found more Mercy at the Tribunal of a whole Kingdom, then from one Judge Collier upon the Bench a­gainst them.

Another Objection he makes against Swearing in the Play-house, is this: ‘Be­sides that 'tis an ungentlemanly, as well as unchristian Practise, the Ladies make a considerable part of the Audience. And Swearing before Women is reckon'd a Breach of Good Behaviour; and there­fore a civil Atheist will forbear it. Besides, Oaths are a boisterous and tempestuous sort of a Conversation, &c. A Woman will start at a Soldier's Oath, almost as much as at the Report of his Pistol, &c.’

I doubt not but a Soldierly Oath may be a little terrible to the Fair Sex: But a Lo­ver's Oath, I fancy, is not altogether so dreadful to 'em: And 'tis that sort of Swear­ing reigns most upon the Stage. By those fair Eyes; and, By those sweet Charms, and Twenty others of the same kind, are Oaths that carry not altogether so much Thunder [Page] in 'em, as a Volly from the Black-Guard: And, possibly, the Discharge of one of those Oaths would scarce fright the Ladies, in their Night-Gowns, and their Bed-Cham­bers. Nay, if the Feminine Courage dares not stand a greater Shock than this, they must have a Care how they open their dear Cowley, for fear of being frighted there too.

Another great, or rather greatest Trans­gression of the Stage, is, the Abuse of the Clergy: Hinc illoe lachrimoe. Ay, 'tis this Mortal Crime that pulls down all the Ven­geance; and, possibly, 'tis from hence the mourning Stage lies under the heaviest Weight of this Canonical Author's Dis­pleasure. All the rest of the Arbitrary Li­centiousness of the Stage, perhaps had never provoked all this Spiritual Indignation, had it not touch'd that Maudlin.

This Author, in his Voluminous Chapter upon that Head, gives us a long and labo­rious Declamation upon the Honour of the Priestood. He sets out their whole untaint­ed Heraldry at full View; and bids the In­

[Page] have a care how they dare presume to find a Blot in so fair a Scutcheon. Here Mr. Col­lier lays a very loud Charge against the Stage, for this particular Profanation: But, methinks, he's hard put to't for Evidence and Proof to support the Indictment, when the first Witness he brings in is Father Domi­nick, in the Spanish Friar. ‘This Dominick is made (he tells you) a Pimp for Lorenzo: He is call'd a Parcel of Holy Guts and Gar­bage; and said to have Room in his Belly for his Church-Steeple.’ Methinks, I say, it looks a little odly, that Mr. Collier, to prove these Stage-Abuses of the Clergy up­on us, should be forc'd to run to Rome for the Scandal; viz. in the Character of a Fa­ther Dominick. But, perhaps, his own par­ticular Tenderness for the Ecclesiasticks of that Cloth, may make him resent a Drama­tical Stain in a Hood and a Cowle, as a more Capital Abuse of the Clergy, than one in a Scarf and Cassock.

But if our English Stage has now and then a little exposed some of the Tatter'd and Daggl'd Gowns, &c. methinks, the Au­thor of the Persuasive to Consideration, that falls himself so heavy, both upon the Head and Body of the Church, should not be so severe upon the Stage, for only rallying [Page 62] some part of the Tail of it. Nay, 'tis yet a little more strange, that this Author should quarrel with the Stage for this Bold­ness with the Clergy, when he himself has furnish'd it with one of the most Divertive Characters for a Comedy; and one that would bear as just and as honest a Satyr, as any that ever appear'd upon it: For his very Remarks upon the Relapse, as he has ma­nag'd them, abstracted from the rest of Mr. Collier's Singularities, would supply a Subject even for a whole Farce; and carry as fair a Title, call'd, The Parson turn'd Cri­tick, as ever grac'd a Playhouse-Bill. But, to shew this Divine Author, that the Stage-Spirit of Scandal is not so very rampant against the Clergy, I am commission'd to tell him, that notwithstanding he has furnish'd them with so copious, and so pregnant a Subject; yet still his Gown, even his quon­dam Gown, shall protect him: Nay, the Play-houses are resolv'd to bear all the false and malicious Insults and Barbarities he has heap'd upon them, with that Return of Meekness and Forgiveness; that Mr. Collier himself (if not past it) the very Divine, may go to School to the Theatre, to learn even Christianity from a Play-house Exam­ple, whilst the Stage shall preach to the Parson.

[Page 63] Next, For the Immoralities and Licen­tiousness of the Stage. Here I am sorry Mr. Collier has any Occasion to find Of­fence; and more sorry that the Age has cor­rupted the Stage; whilst the Effeminacy of the two last Reigns has both furnish'd the Stage with so many Libertine Pictures, and indulg'd their Reception.

I shall join farther with Mr. Collier, and heartily wish, that both the Levity of Ex­pression, and the too frequent Choice of De­bauch'd Characters, in our Comedies, were re­trench'd, and mended: That also the Prize in the Comedy might be always given to some deserving Vertue that wins it; and conse­quently, our Comedies, even Fiction it self, might be made more Instructive, by a Poe­tick Justice, in rewarding and crowning the Vertuous Characters with the Success in the Drama. I'll join with him farther, and ac­knowledge that he has given us one very true Reason, why our Comedies are not so well furnish'd with that better Choice of Vertuous Characters, as 'tis to be wish'd they were; and that is, from the Laziness of the Authors. ‘To fetch Diversion (as he says) from Innocence, is no such easie mat­ter; there's no succeeding in it, it may be, in this Method, without Sweat and Drudg­ing: [Page 64] Clean Wit, inoffensive Homour, and handsom Contrivance require Time and Thought: And who would be at this Ex­pence, when the Purchase is so cheap an­other way.’

This more innocent Model of Plays, I confess, would give both that greater Lu­stre to the Stage, and that fairer Reputation to the Authors, as were truly worth the Poet's Sweating and Drudging for, as he calls it. But, all this while, I hope Mr. Col­lier does not expect that All the Characters in the Comedy should be Virtuous: A Com­position of that kind cannot well be made; nor would such a Composition truly reach the whole Instructive Ends of the Drama. Contraria juxta se posita magis elucescunt, is a very great Maxim, The Foyl sets off the Dia­mond. And that Foyl, I may venture to say, is wanted in the Comedy, to make the Vir­tue shine the brighter. For Instance, in the Relapse; There seems to be a Necessity of a Treacherous Berinthia, (even with her loosest Arguments) to ensnare, and a Libertine Wor­thy to attack a Virtuous Amanda. Virtue cannot very well be wrought up to any Dra­matick Perfection, nor sparkle with any con­siderable Brightness and Beauties, unless it stands a Temptation, and surmounts it. We have a Proverbial Saying, that will hardly [Page 65] allow that Woman to be truly chaste, that has never been try'd. This I am sure, the noblest Triumphs of Virtue are made by the Assaults it can resist and conquer. Thus the Relapser's Amanda crowns her Chara­cter even with a double Laurel; not only by Illustrating and (I may, not improperly, say) Aggrandizing her own Invincible Vir­tue in the Assault she has repulsed; but like­wise, in the Conversion of her Assailing Li­bertine. 'Tis not supposed therefore that the Dramatick Poet must be oblig'd to bor­row his Characters of Virtue from Lazy Cells, and Melancholy Cloysters; a Copy from a Hermit, or an Anchoret. No; His Characters of Virtue must come forth into the gay World, with Levity, Vanity, nay, Temptation it self, all round them. They must go to the Court, the Ball, the Masque, the Musick-Houses, the Dancing-Schools, nay, to the very Prophane Play-Houses themselves; (to speak in Mr. Collier's Dia­lect;) and yet come off unconquer'd. These are the Virtues that, to be Instructive to an Audience, are what should tread the Stage.

And consequently, if our Poets will set forth such Virtue, they must find her all this Worldly Conversation, and furnish the Drama accordingly.

[Page] But now to come to a Conclusion, and summ the whole Merits of his View of the Stage, &c.

Considering the Weakness and Fal­sity of his greatest and most important Arguments in that Piece. I may say, He's the Counsel at the Bar, not the Judge upon the Bench. All that bawling Eloquence pleads not for Truth, but Con­quest; and with the very same Triumph, both the Gown and the Long Robe, pride themselves in their success. 'Tis he gains the Reputation and Applause of being the Ablest Lawyer, that can carry the weakest Cause.

Oh Truth! Divine Truth! How beauti­ful wouldst thou appear in thy native Glo­ry, naked! But when thy Orators have rigg'd thee out with all their false Rheto­rick, and a whole superfaetation of stretcht Sense, rack'd Argument, extorted Suggesti­ons, and so much additional Fictions and Forgeries to fill up thy spurious Train; what with the Paint, Patch, Plume, and all the false Drapery about thee, they bring thee forth in all that pomp and magnificence, when thou art least thy Self. And thus if all this Fucus, and all these gawdy Trap­pings unhappily mislead the Weak, the Ea­sy, [Page] and the Ignorant, the fond Eyes, and captivated Hearts before thee; 'tis not thy own, but thy Iezabel charms, that conquer them!

Here I must beg my Reader's pardon for speaking too much in the Stile of Mr. Col­lier, and running a little into Rapture up­on this occasion. But to bring the plain matter home to his own door, I do declare in all the Triumphs he has gain'd by his View of the Stage, amongst all the Cap­tives his Eloquence has made him; the great Proselites to his Cause are not gain'd by the Truth, but by the Falsehood, in that Treatise. For Instance, 'Tis not the setting out of the Libertine, or Jilt, in our Come­dies with a little too much free Air; or the larding our Modern Plays with some­times too much of the Smut, and double Entendres, &c. And for the profane part, 'tis not Mr. Durfey' s Furniture of Lucifer' s Kitchen; his Garbidge of Souls, nor Rashers of Fools, &c. nor his profaning of Balaam' s Ass in his Epilogue, p. 199. nor Lady Froth' s making Jehu a Hackney Coachman, p. 64. nor Sharper's making himself a God-father to Vain Love, vowing and promising in his Name, &c. p. 63. Nor Angelica's telling Sir Sampson, that the strongest of his Name pull'd an old house over his head; nor Sancho's sen­ding [Page 68] the Iew, his Father, to Abraham' s Bo­som, p. 72. nor Cynthia for saying Marriage makes a Man and Wife one Flesh, but leaves 'em two Fools, p. 82. nor Fashion for kicking his Conscience down stairs, p. 79, &c. nor Scan­dal, for saying, That Solomon was a wise Man, for his great Iudgment in Astrology.

'Tis not these, nor all the rest of those minor Brethren in Iniquity; No, not with all Mr. Collier's perverse Discant upon them, that run down the Stage: But the more blasphemous Execrations in King Ar­thur, and Absolon and Achitophel; and that more prodigious mass of Blasphemy, Mr. Dryden's whole Play of Amphitryon (as we have set forth in our first Part) and to all these, the Fulminations of the Primitive Fa­thers, with their Seat of Infection, their Chair of Pestilence, &c. (how foreign to his Cause, and how feeble their Authority, we have already discoursed,) 'Tis upon this last Ba­bel work, a pile that almost reaches Hea­ven, that Mr. Collier gives the Stage the most mortal Blow, and consequently gains all the aforesaid Proselites.

But the Reader is not to wonder that Falsehood is the great Charmer in that Treatise; for, to tell you the Truth, 'twas both founded in Falsehood, and stands sup­ported [Page 69] by it. For though Religion and Re­formation was the pretence; instead of a Cole from the Altar to inspire the Zeal, here was a warmer Dulcis Odor, fifty Guinea's Copy-money that animated the Cause. And though, God forbid, I should infer, That the Labours either of Learning Piety should go unrewarded; yet, to confirm my Assertion, that Interest was here the Govern­ing Ascendant: Piety never falsifies, nor prevaricates: He had never built so mali­cious, and sophistical a Fabrick, upon so holy a Ground, had Conscience laid the Corner stone. But as that Inferior first Mo­ver set him at work, so he managed with Tools accordingly. Like the Lawyer at the Bar, as I said before, the Fee was large, and Pleadings must deserve it. And there­fore as nothing but a total Overthrow of the Stage could make it so selling a Copy, and consequently afford the Author that Encouragement; for gaining that point, he lay under the necessity not only of Sophi­stry, Misconstruction, &c. stretching every least Peccadilio more unmercifully, than a Dwarf in a Procrustes Bed, but even of dragging in the Primtive Fathers; nay, the Apostles, and Gospel it self rightor wrong, to do the last Execution.

[Page 70] 'Twas thus this Dagon rose, and thus it gain'd the popular Knees that bend before it; and indeed 'tis much such another Spi­rit of Falsehood, that gives it Fame and Reputation: For it goes for Current Au­thority round the whole Town, that Mr. Dryden himself had publickly declar'd it Un­answerable; and thank'd Mr. Collier for the just Correction he had given him; and that Mr. Congreve, and some other great Authors, had made much the same Declaration; which is all so notoriously False, so egregi­ous a Lye, that Mr. Dryden particularly al­ways look'd upon it as a pile of Malice, Illnature and Uncharitableness, and all drawn upon the utmost Rack of Wit and Inven­tion.

Thus Falsehood employ'd the Workman. Falsehood found the Materials. Falsehood rais'd the Structure, and Falsehood up­holds it.

To give my Reader a particular Instance, how far the Temptation of a Selling Copy, even upon the most sacred and religious Subject, will prevail. Some Years since was publish'd a small Treatise, with the Imprimatur of Authority, called, The Second Spira, being the Relation of a young Gen­tleman, [Page 71] the Son of a Person of Quality, who died in Despair, December the 8th. 1692. containing the Conferences of several Or­thodox Divines, at several times, with the Particulars of their Spiritual Arguments, Reasonings, Admonitions, together with all the young Gentleman's Replies, his Exe­crations, Impenitence, Apostacy, and the whole Narrative of his Blasphemies to his last Gasp. This Piece was compiled by an Author as Ingenious as Mr. Collier, and that values himself as much upon his Morals and Religion; the Bookseller as Eminent, as Wealthy, and as zealous a Professor of Christianity, as most of the Trade. Of this Book several Impressions, near 20 Thousand were sold. Several prefatory Advertisements were printed, to support its Authority, and long and repeated Insinuations were almost daily made by the Publisher for the same Assertion. And yet all this while, there was not so much as one Syllable, Tittle, or Jota of Fact or Truth in the whole History, but all pure Invention. Now tho' I dare not say with Mr. Dryden, that Priests of all Religion are the same, yet I may venture to say, that pious Craft in all Relgions is much the same; and Legends will creep into all Churchs. I do not urge this as a Parallel to Mr. Collier's view of the Stage. His Labours upon that subject, I confess, are not all le­gend; I acknowledge his view has some [Page 72] matter of Truth in it; but at the same time its Veracity a little agrees with the Descrip­tion of Dr. Oates his Plot, in Absolom and Achitophel.

And here I must give Mr. Collier the Ho­nour of leading a small Squadron of Truths to attack the Stage; but like Dr. Oats too, with a whole Legion of Pilgrims and Black Bills to back them.

And here again I must make one serious Reflection, to think how Truth is the best Mistress, but worst served. For that Learn­ing and Ingenuity like Mr. Colliers, that is most able to do her the best and honoura­blest Service, makes her the worst and igno­blest Servant. And thus I may join with Lactantius (only changing one word,) The Rule is, the more Rhetorick, the more Mischief, and the best Pen-men are the worst Common­wealthsmen. For the Harmony and Ornament serves only to recommend the Argument, and fortify the Charm.