'TIS not that I'm fond of following the Mode of Prefacing, that I trou­ble the Reader with this; but, because I lie under, what I esteem one of the greatest Duties of Mankind, that of Gratitude to a dead Hero, and living Friend, to make my Publick Acknowledgments for the helps I have had from them both, in the following Poem.

That I owe a great many of its Beauties to the Immortal EURIPIDES, I look on as my Glory, not Crim [...]; and I have so little to fear on that Account even from my Enemies, that I find their chief Objections is, that I have not follow'd him yet more close. But I hope, the Impartial-Reader that can, and will with Candor compare this Play with the Medea of EURIPIDES, will own that I had Reasons suffi [...]ient to justifie my deffering from him in some particu­lars. For my Intention being to compose a Piece (if I could,) to Please our Audience; I was no farther to follow my great Master than both our Two Hearers agreed; but where their Sentiments differ'd, there I was oblig'd to forsake him, and comply with those who had my Profit, and what is much more in my Opinion, my Reputation in their Hands.

The little Observation I had made of our Audience, gave me reason to think, that a Play after the Model of the Ancients, would be far from displeasing them, for I found that what delighted and transported them, was contain'd in a very little compass of those long Plays, that were in Possession of the Theatre, which was the chief Characters only, and the violent Emotions of their Passions; that the multiplicity of great Characters (under the spacious name of v [...]riety) divided their concern, and by consequence, render it of less force; and that the several inconsiderable Persons were only born with, for the sake of the Chief, and most passionate Parts. And this seems to me, to have been long ago observ'd by our admirable SHAKESPEAR, when he says,

Now whatever is tedious, can never please; and therefore I concluded, that the paring off those Superfluities that only swell'd the Bulk, without con­tributing to the end, could not render my undertaking less agreeable.

[Page]Fixt in this Opinion, before it was my good Fortune to meet with the Me­ [...]ea of EURIPIDES, I drew the Plot of an Opera according to this my propos'd Model, from some hints of the French Opera of Phaeton; but after I had drawn the out-lines of the whole, and proceeded to the very [...]urns, and business, nay, almost Expression of the two first Acts; the Medea of EURIPIDES, accidentally fell into my Hands, and not only gave an extraordinary pleasure in the perusal, but made me resolve, since my Plot came so very near it, to make use of those Advantages the Imitation of so excellent an Author might afford me. But the Third Act was finish'd before I could prevail wi [...]h myself to quit [...]y de [...]ign'd Catastrophe of the Fall of Phaeton for that which now it has, which was one of the reasons of my preserving the Names of Phaeton and the rest,

But for fear this shou'd not satisfie our sou'r Critics, (Custom will make me give them the generous Name Critics) that my alt'ring the Names of Medea and of Iason, is not so inexcuseable as they seem to make it; I shall pr [...]d to some, perhaps, of more force.

I saw a necessity on my first perusal of EURIPIDES of alt'ring the two [...]hief Characters of the Play, in consideration of the different Temper and Senti­ments of our several Audience. First I was Apprehensive, that Medea, as Eu­ripides represents her, wou'd shock us. When we hear of her rearing her Bro­ther to pieces, and the murdering her own Children, contrary to all the Di­ctates of Humanity and Mother-hood, we shou'd have been too impatient for her Punishment, to have expected the happy Event of her barbarous Revenge, nay, perhaps, not have allow'd the Character within the Compass of Nature; or at least decreed it more unfit for the Stage, than the Cruelties of Nero. Mon­sters in Nature not affording those just Lessons a Poet ought to reach his Hear­ers. But we shou'd with the extreamest Indignation have seen her (as Mr. Dryden observes) at last furnish'd with a Flying Chariot to escape her just Punishment. Nor wou'd our Audience, I fear, ever have consider'd the rea­sons that might justifie Euripides in so uncommon a Character, viz, First, that Medea is the Instrument of the Gods to bring a wonderful Punishment of Perjury about, on those, whom Power had secured from all other means. Or Secondly, that he, by this Inhumanity of a Barbarian Woman, strove to deter the Athenians from Marriages with those, whom they generally estem'd Barbarous, and by that means, enforc'd by the most prevailing Motive Ex­ample, a known Law of Athens against any Athenians Marrying a Stranger. Or Thirdly, that Medea being the Grand-daughter of the SUN, had that Cha­riot as a Present from him. The Descendants of the Gods, (at least of so near a degree) being exempted, by the Pagan Theology, from the common Rules of Mankind, as if walking more at large, and being a superior, and more un­confin'd sort of Beings.

These considerations wou'd sufficiently justifie Euripides; but I cou'd not hope the whole, or ev'n the greater part of my Hearers, shou'd allow 'em as a Defence for me; and my Opinion was so far jus [...]ifi'd by some, that I read my Play to, that they thought, the very Revenge of Al [...]hea, tho the Natural Re­ [...]ult of sleighted Love, lost her a great share of that pity I wish'd she might find. And this was the reason that I made use of those Advantages of the Heathen System of Divinity, which the Foundation of my Play allow'd me, as of Iuno, [Page] Hymen, and her Father's Ghost, to fire her with that resentment her unhappy Love might else have smother'd; by this means to render her Revenge as in-involuntary an Act as possibly I cou'd; tho it was all along my own Opinion, that the Natural Effect of those Passions every one finds in himself, wou'd have mov'd our pity, when her yielding to their most violent impuls, had brought [...]o deplorable r [...]in on self, and her Children.

Revenge in Woman for sleighted Love, for being cast off for another, while yet she was, and thought her self Beautiful, after Possession, after Vows, and Oaths of Cons [...]ancy, after the highest Benefits, is so natural a Frailty, that I'm confident no Woman of any Spirit wou'd bear it, without attempting some Revenge or other, and that, more or less violent, according to the Tem­per of the Woman. So that I cou'd not see how this, cou'd reasonably rob Althea of pity; since no unfortunate Character ought to be introduc'd on the Stage, without its Humane Frail [...]ies to justifie its Misfortunes: For unfortu­nate Perfection, is the Crime of Providence, and to offer at that, is an Impie­ty a Poet ought never to be guilty of; being directly opposite to his duty of Rewarding the Innocent, and punishing the Guilty; and by that means, to esta­blish a just notion of Providence in its most important Action, the Govern­ment of Mankind.

This the great Sophocles has been notoriously guilty of in his Oedipus Tyran­nus, where he punishes Oedipus for an Accident, as much as for the most Crimi­nal Offences. For 'tis evident, [...]that his Mind was ever so far from being guilty of Parricide and Incest, tha he always expresses the utmost horror of them. And his voluntary Banishment from Corinth, prov'd, that he had done all, that Man could do to avoid the threaten'd Evil. I know very well, that some pretend, that he was punish'd for his Curiousity and Rashness, not Parricide and Incest, but I can find no tollerable reason for this their Assertion. For, first, it is not to be gather'd from the Play it self, nor from the Moral of it; and next the Curiosity he was guilty of in consulting the Oracle, was so far from be­ing a Fault in the Heathen Religion, that it was one of its chief Duties; and then for a Man to defend himself against [...]everal insolent Assaulters, was rather an Act that merited a Reward, than Punishment, and Laius, not Oedipus, was here the Offender. The Grecians (as is evident from the Laws of Athens, &c.) were too great lovers of Bravery, to encourage any passive Notions, and too Zealous for their Religious Rites to suffer any Moral, or Lesson of a Play to ex­pose them as foolish. But the miseries of a King or Tyrant, however brought about, were agreeable in a Democractic Government. And I'm apt to believe, Sophocles, in this, run along with the Sin of the Times, which entertain'd none of the most favourable Notions of Providence. And the Sons of Orpheus might well be guilty of complementing the depravity of Humane-kind with the Doctrine of Necessity, at the expence of Providence; since he himself had, by perverting Religion into Profane Mystery, and Evidence into Fables, scarce left the Deity one Attribute uncorrupted; and his Successors made the God-Head guilty of all those Crimes, which (according to them) were caus'd in his Family of Mankind by a fatal Necessity.

But to return from this Digression, (into which I insensibly am faln) what I have faid, proves, that it is necessary that the unfortuna [...]e Characters shou'd be guilty of some Frailties at least, to make Providence just in those Evils that fall upon them. And those Frailties that produce those Misfortunes being [Page] what we may all be subject to, must cause our pity for the suff'ring Object; and this I think, wou'd demand it for Althea, if I had not in compliance with my Friends opinions, added those Machines to take off from her Guilt.

But if these nice Judges cou'd not pardon her punishing the Guilty, by her Revenge, how wou'd they have born her destroying the Innocent, and those her own Children? For whom, Nature imprints in every Woman an uncom­mon tenderness. Althea runs mad for the Death of her Children, Medea in-humanly Butchers hers; which made Seneca give a very odd, and impious Conclusion to his Play on this Subject; when he makes Iason (when she's aloft in her Chariot) flying away, say,

This, I hope, is sufficient to justifie my altering the Character of Medea. I shall now proceed to that of IASON, which, however justifiable in the Original, I had some reason to fear wou'd not be forgiven in my Copy. In the first Scence of my Fourth Act, on their meeting after his forsaking her Iason, wou'd seem too harsh, rough, and Ungentleman-like, to a Lady on our Stage; for to this purpose is his first Speech to her;

I was always of opinion, that ungovern'd Anger was a [...] impotent, and de­sperate Evil. Your own vain words (that hurt not me) have driven you to Exile; whereas, cou'd you have quietly born the Commands of Power, you might here calmly have enjoy'd your House, and Home. Continue to call me as you do, the most pro­sligate of Men, I matter it not; but if you're Banish'd for what you vent against the Royal House, you may take your Exile as a favour. I endeavour'd to appease them, to remit your Banishment, but by your proceeding still foolishly to rail against them, you do not suffer for me, but your own exorbitant Tongue. But words do not make me desert my Friends, and therefore, Woman, I am come to know how I can be service­able to you, that you may not go with your Childre [...] destitue of Necessaries. For Exile brings inconvenencies enough of its own along with it; nor can I wish you evil, tho you hate me.

I must beg pardon that I have not put this Speech of Euripides into a better, and more Poetical dress, but that want of leisure will not permit; beside, I quote not this as a Specimen of his Poetry, but a Proof of the Character of Iason; which in my Opinion, wou'd have seem'd on our Stage too Magi­sterial Proud, and Inhumane an Address to a Woman he had unjustly for­saken, to whom he shou'd (in our Climate at least) have render'd his leaving her more soft and easie, but he after her passionate Reply, makes a more cruel and barbarous Answer, which in Prose is to this effect.

Woman, I find, I ought to be no small proficient in Eloquence, but like an artful Pilot sheer by that empty Loquacity of your. Since therefore you so extoll your Bene­fit, I must tell you, that Venus alone preserv'd my Life, as she alone was the Con­voy of my Voyage; nor do I think that I'm oblig'd to any other, either of Gods or Men. Your Gall, and the sharp fertility of your Wit, furnish you with Words; but 'tis all but a meer arrogant boast of Speech, when you upbraid me with what Love compell'd you to do, that is, to deliver me from Dangers. I'll not attribute it to a worse Cause, but as you did assist me, I acknowledge it, and freely own the Favour. But I shall make it evident to you, that you've receiv'd greater Advantages from my Safety than my self. First, insteed of your own native barbarous Country, you enjoy Greece, where Law and Equity florish, and where Right gives not place to [Page] Favour, or to Force. Your Parts and Learning are made known to the polite Greci­ans themselves, among them your Fame and Reputation is spread: Whereas if you had still been confin'd to those obscure remote parts of the Earth, you had liv'd and dy'd unknwon, &c.

In the same Speech he tells her, that Nature had done better to have found out some other way of propagating Mankind, than by Woman &c. That the Im­potence of Women was arriv'd to that Degree, that an Injury to their Bed dissolv'd the strictest Friendship, and made them mortal Foes to them they Lov'd before.

In need quote no more, to shew the Reader the Motive of my presuming to alter this Character too. For tho' Euripides, full of noble Thoughts of his Country, or to flatter his Country-men, makes it a Favour beyond any Reta­liation, to be made an Inhabitant of Greece: Yet I fear'd that wou'd not be allow'd a Justification of such a manner of dealing here; therefore as Phaeton is young (the Age of Compassion) as well as Ambitions, I have given him a more generous sense of his Obligations. For tho' his Heart, and his Love, were not in his Power, yet it was always in his Power to endeavour to ren­der his parting with a Woman that lov'd him, and to whom he had such uncommon Obligations, as easie as he possibly cou'd, and not to make this his Endeavours, seem'd too Barbarous to me, when there was no necessity of so cruel a Character. It must always be some Pain to a generous Temper not to be able to Love, where a Man is belov'd, and impossible to use a Woman harshly for the violent Effects of that Love.

Being, as I thought, under an Obligation to make such Alterations in these two chief Characters, I confess I had not Assurance enough to keep the Names, my great Master had made use of, since that might be pardon'd in an Imitation, which wou'd not be forgiven in a Translation. I might indeed, had I thought it worth my while, have chosen other Names than what I have; but that Ob­jection is so egregiously trifling, that I think it not worth an Answer.

The next Objection my Hypercritics make, is, —against Phaeton's being in Love with Two at the same time: But this, I am bold enough to say, pro­ceeds from want of Reflecting (a Crime our Critics are often guilty of) as I shall, I hope, make evident in the sequel of this Preface. But let a Play succeed, or not, Faults must be found, or some Men wou'd lose a Character they seem very fond of; for they have a peculiar Aversion to the being distinguish'd by their discovery of the Beauties and Excellencies of a Poem; but desire ra­ther to be known by their si [...]ting, turning and winding the best Performan­ces, to squeeze out at least the Shaddow of a Fault, if they miss the Substance; grosly mistaking the true Business of a Critic, and forgetting the Justice of the best of Critics (because a Poet) Horace, who says of himself.

I am far from imagining, that this Play, notwithstanding its Success, is with­out its Faults; for 'tis impossible any Man should produce a Work of this Na­ture, where the Principles of the Art are not Demonstrations, but what will be lyable to critical Disputes: For this very Reason the generous part of Men shou'd excuse what they may dislike, for the pains the Poet has been at to please them.

[Page]But besides these Gentlemen, who sowr'd with their Learning, are too un­generous, to have their little Endeavours of force enough to influence the Lo­vers of Poetry. I have another Sort of Readers to undeceive, who are much better Natur'd, and who may Condemn me through Ignorance, not Malice. Their want of Acquaintance with the Antients, may give them a prejudice to my uncommon Model. To do my self Justice with these, I am oblig'd to lay down a very succinct Account of the Difference betwixt the Antients and the Moderns, from which they will be the better able to pass a just Sentence on my Performance.

First, the Antients to dismiss their Audience with that Pleasure and Profit they design'd them by their Plays, scarce ever extended their Tragedies to above half the Lengths of ours: For, by obliging the Mind to a too long Attention, they thought they shou'd make it grow dull, and tyr'd, whi [...] must of ne­cessity render it less susceptible of those Ends they propos'd: Tho' the Diver­sion indeed was something lengthen'd by the singing of their Chorus, which answers the Musick I have brought in in Mine.

The Moderns on the contrary generally Spin out theirs to an unreasonable Extent, by adding Under-plots, and several Persons, no way necessary to their Design, which was admirably avoided by the Ancients, by introducing no more Characters than were indispensably necessary to ONE Compleat Design. And in this I have endeavour'd, here to imitate them.

Next the Antients differ'd from the Moderns, in the Choice of their Subject. We are for making the Scene of our Plays, the Field of Battle, a Siege, Camp, &c. Where, what ever we do else, we are sure to keep the Audience awake with our Drums and Trumpets, and make them Laugh with our Battles and Rencounters on the Stage, when they ought to be more concern'd: The A [...] ­cients never, as I can remember, chose such noisy Opportunities of pervert­ing the End they propos'd in their Tragedies, viz. the moving Terror and Compassion, which can never be touch'd, where such tumultuary Objects come in view.

I urge not this, nor any other Argument here, to Reflect on those great Men of our Nation, who have follow'd this way; who finding it de­liver'd down to them from an Ignorant Age of the Theatre, thought, with­out doubt, that no other way wou'd please, because this had been so long receiv'd. But I'm confident those who have so much excell'd others in this, wou'd have excell'd themselves in the more Natural Way of the Ancients.

Thirdly, the Ancients differ'd from our Poets in their Incidents. We seek af­ter various, and surprizing Turns in the Fortune of the Persons introduc'd, which seldom or never happen in Common Life (the just Object of a Poet) and so very often lose all PROBABILITY, in what we falsly esteem AD­MIRABLE.

Thus, striving to draw, not the Passions, and Natural Inclinations of Man, by which we might inform the Reader and Hearer in himself, but the Fortune, which is something forraign and extrinsic, and the Faults of which lye sel­dom in our power to amend. Whereas the Antients only (or chiefly at least) had regard to the Representation of Man in himself; and the Turns they made use of in their Tragedies (at least the most Beautiful of them) were of [Page] the Passions, and not of the Fortune only, the Turns of which were ever so plac'd, as to give a better Light to the Passions they drew. In this too I have made it my Endeavours to imitate Them. In the first ACT I have aim'd a a Representation of the Turns, a [...]d Sturglings, of an expiring Love, and one that is just rising. On one side Ambition and Novelty; on the other Obliga­tions and Use, contending with all their Force for the Mastery: The sure, and Experienc'd Love of the present Object, enforc'd with an uncommon Burst of Tenderness, prevailing, for that Instant, over the absent, and uncertain Beauty.

This may, in some measure, Answer the Objection I hinted at before, of Phaeton's being in Love with two at the same time; for a sensible and just Reader, or Hearer, would easily find that I had Nature, and certain Experience, not any Dogmatical Notions in my Eye, when I form'd that Scene. For a Ge­nerous, and an Amorous Man, when he passes from his first Love, to a new Af­fair, does not immediately loose all his former Tyes; but doubts a great while, which he loves best, his old Mistress, or his New; and may very well mis­take the Effects of Use and Gratitude, for the Sentiments of Love, especially when these are encreas'd and magnify'd, (as in my First ACT) by all the Ten­derness of a constant Passion. Iustice, Gratitude, and a thousand other Motives, range themselves on the side of the Present Beauty, and experienc'd Charms, and may well hold the Mind in suspense a while, which Passion is the most pre­vailing. And as our Best Resolutions, are often broke by a present Tempta­tion, so I am very sure, that any young Man, in Phaeton's Circumstance, wou'd have the same Sentiments. And as his present Love for Althea, might be the Effect of other Causes, so might that Passion he thought he had for Lybia, owe its greatest share to Ambition; as, on a further Thought, he himself seems to imagine,

This I am certain every Man, that has his share of Love and Ambition, must experience in himself on the like occasion.

But I must not forget Ovid, the Great Master of LOVE — Who justifies this particular in a much higher degree, in his Verses to Graecinus; in those he is positive that he Loves two at once: Whereas I only suppose here, that the Sen­timents of other passions might in a Mind unsettl'd, be mistaken by Phaeton for those of Love; but to proceed.

In the second Act, the Motions, and Turns of Anger betwixt the two Friends, and the resolving it into a seasonable Reconcilement, carry on my Imitation of the manner of the Ancients; and I hope that Phaeton's Youth and Ambition, will make his Change in the Conclusion of the Act, sufficiently Natural.

In the third Act I'm more secure, for there, I have closely follow'd the Divine Euripides, in the grief, despair, rage, dissimultation, and resentment of Althea; as I have in her several Passions in the fourth Act, and something more at a distance in the fifth.

All just Critics have agreed in prefering Euripides to Sophocles himself, in his lively draught of the Passions. And therefore I cannot forgive Scaliger's ill [Page] Taste, in prefering Seneca's abominable Medea (I mean in comparison of that of Euripides) to his. Seneca has nothing but a stiff, unnatural Affectation of Sen­tentiousness. Euripides is all free, easie, just, and natural; Seneca prepares no­thing, Euripides has an admirable Preparation of every thing, and this brings me to the last difference I shall now take notice of betwixt the Ancients and us.

We are fond of FINE THINGS, (as the Ladies call 'em) which common-Place-Books will supply to any moderately industrious dull Fellow, on all occasions. Nay, Seneca has store enough of them to set up half a score Mo­dern Authors, as admir'd as these Sentences are, tho generally unnatural; for no Man or Woman agitated by violent Passions, can naturally speak, what they call Fine things, and to bring in Persons without any concern in the business of the Play, wou'd be equally Faulty.

I had some thoughts when I begun this Preface to say something of the Stile of the Play, and to have examin'd into what is the true sublime, and what is generally mistaken for it, many, both of the Ancients and Moderns, having affected a tumid, puffy Stile for the sublime; but this I have industriously avoided. One is only sound, the other, as Longinus observes is in the sense as well as words. Wherefore that Poet that's fond of Gigantic words without a Soul proportion'd to their vast Bulk, falls under the Censure of Horace.

Statius and Virgil are two Authors that may give us a just Idea of the true and false Sublime. Statius is fond of the sound, and chooses words that fill the Mouth, indeed, but when the confussion which that makes, is over, you seek in vain for the sublimity of Thought, but find nothing but a sonorus emptyness, numberless Catachreses, and monstrous Hyperboles. On the contrary, Virgil is great, and magnificent in Expression; but it is not noisie, and always ani­mated with a Noble, and sublime sence; he is easie (like true Majesty) as well as great; he fires your mind, but does not confound it; he may be read for ever, some parts of Statius scarce once.

But this Discourse is of too great an extent for me to pursue here, and my Preface is already swell'd to such a bulk, that I have scarce room to add a word of my Numbers, therefore, I shall only say, that I have often industriously affected a roughness in them, to avoid that satiety I find in many of our best Modern Plays, which proceeds from a perpetual Indentity of Cadence.

What other Objections my Cavillers have made, I can easily loose the Sense of, in the satisfaction of the success of my Play, not only with the in­different Spectators, but the best Judges of Poetry that I know in the Nation, as well as the most generously Candid, who, for the boldness of my imitation of the Ancients, forgave the faults I have commited in the performance. I'm sensible, and must own it to the World, that Mrs. Knight's admirable Action was no small advantage to me; who is playing Althea, has evidently shew'd her self one of the formost Actresses of the Age. And we may say of her in playing, as Lassels says of Tasso in Potery, That he has hindred Virgil from being the only Poet; so has she prov'd that the English Stage has more than one Actreses. Nor indeed, do I complain of the Representation; Most of the Players doing me justice. But the Music was so admirable, that the best Judges tell me (for [Page] I dare not give it as my own bare Sentiment) that there is the true Purcellian Air through the whole: that tho' it be so very different in the several Acts, it is every where Excellent; and that Mr. Daniel Purcells Composition in this Play is a certain Proof, that as long as he lives Mr. Henry Purcel will never die; or our English harmony give place to any of our Neighbours.

As I begun my Preface with my Acknowledgement to the Divine Euripides, so I shall close it with owning my extraordinary Obligation to my Friend. The Character of Mr. Cheek is too well known to the Witty, and Conversible Part of the Town to need any Encomium from me; I am proud of being reckon'd among his Friends, and equally pleased with, and Vain of his par­ticular Approbation of this Play, and the extraordinary Zeal he had shew'd for its success

'Twas under his Protection, and the security of his Name, that it ascended the Stage, and got a Reputation before it was acted, and by that I am satis­fied it met with a more favourable hearing on its first appearance. From his Judicious and friendly Correction, and Hints, it was secur'd from injuring his justly established Reputation of Wit and Poetry. The Obligation was uncom­mon, and Merits a greater Return than my Abilities are capable of Making. For a Man of Sense is, and ought always to be very Cautious of hazarding a Good, that is got with so much difficulty from so envious, and so ungenerous a People as generally have the disposal of a mans Fame in that particular. And indeed if I had not entirely confided in his Judgment, as much as Friendship, I should not have desired him to put his to the hazard for my own Advantage. It wou'd be needless to repeat the particular Hints he gave me, or the Cor­rections he made in several parts of the Play upon its perusal. But I must own that the Castrophe, ows most of its Beauty to his advice. For tyr'd with writing the rest of the Play, I had hurry'd the Madness of Althea, with too much Precipitation, and without any apparent Cause. Which at first hearing he condemned and oblig'd me to write it over again, and alter it till it pleased him in the form you now find it.

Since the Conclusion of the foregoing Preface, I have met with a Book, call'd a short View of the Immorality, and Profaneness of the English Stage, &c. by Jeremy Collier, A. M.

NO Man wou'd be more glad to see all Indecencies driven from the Eng­lish Stage, than my self; but that desire ought not to influence me or any other Man to conjure up ten Thousand Devils of our own, and then lay 'em at the Expence of the Theatre. And yet this is the Conduct of this Younger Histrio-Mastix, I have no Room in this Place to shew all the Abuses, and Absurdities this Author is guilty of, but I reserve most of them for a work I have long design'd, and which I resolve to conclude some time this summer in Vindication of the Stage, &c. Now I shall only give you a tast of this fu­rious Gentleman, by which you may Judge of the Man and his Honesty as well as Understanding.

The principal Heads of this Book are included in the Immodesty, Profane­ness, and Immorality of the Stage, and the Clergy's being there abus'd. A word [Page] to each. The first Point I can say little to, since he is not pleased to be any farther particular, than to make References to several Plays, which I have not by me at this Time; but I suppose they are Goblins of his own forming, as many of those are, which he has produc'd under the other heads. Under Profaness he Places the Swearing on the Stage; but to prove this he Quotes no Oaths, but an Interjection, that has very little Affinity to an Oath, un­less it be because it has two letters of one of the Words, which do in reality compose One.

I grant this Gentleman is no Friend to Oaths, yet his Zeal should not trans­port him out of his Princely Wits, or make him run into such a Whimsie in Etymology as a certain fellow did in Pedigre, to derive himself from King Pepin. Dipper, diaper; Napkin, Nepkin; Pipkin, King Pepin, as foolishly Extra­vagant as this seems, Mr. Collier is more so through great part of his Charge against our Stage, which to impartial Judges must seem very Innocent, when its professed Enemy is driven to the wretched Necessity of fixing forged Crimes upon it. If he replies, that the harmeless Interjection Gad is at least a vain Word, and therefore to be abandoned, I answer, that if the Poets must suffer for a few Vain Words, Mr. Collier has a much larger Account to make up, for a great part of his book will fall under that Condemnation. Another Branch of his Profaneness, is Abuse of Scripture. Nay he is full of Indignation to hear Ieremy, in Love for Love, Call the Natural Inclinations to Eating and Drinking, Whoreson Appetites. This is strange Language, pursues he, the Manichaeems, who made the Creation the work of the Devil, cou'd scarcely have been thus Course. Risum teneatis? They are our Authors own words I assure you, If this be not turning all the Theological Controversies into Redicule with a Vengeance I'm much mistaken.

What this Gentleman understands by Whoreson I know not, but if our Na­tural Inclinations are not to be spoke against at all, I'm sure few Preachers are Innocent, the fathers of the Church very guilty, and Mr. Collier at last as criminal in this particular as Mr. Congreve, for he himself calls our Na­tural Inclinations to Generation brutal, and which are fully as Natural as that to Eating and Drinking; to say nothing of Divine Injunction in Ge­nesis. Now I can't help thinking that brutal, is to the full as infamous, and impious an Epithete for our Inclination, as Whoreson. Again he will have Mr. Congreve guilty of no less than Blasphemy, for making Valentine in Love for Love say that he is Truth, because there is an Expression something like it in the holy Scriptures. At this way of arguing he may deny us the Use of the Whole Alphabet, because the Words of the Bible are composed out of it; or evidently cut out three parts of all the Languages, the Bible is translated into.

Here he is angry at Mr. Congreve for hitting by chance on two words which stood together in the New Testament? anon he is more Angry with Mr. Vanbrook, for altering the words of the Text in the Provok'd Wife. I find a man must be an admirable Pilot to Steer betwixt this Scylla and Charybdis. If he had been that Good Christian, or that Honest Man he wou'd be thought, he shou'd have shewn more Candor and Charity, than to put the worst, and most Scandalous Construction on any Gentleman of Honour and Probity's Meaning; for I dare, in Mr. Congreves Name, assert that the impious design [Page] which this Author has coin'd out of his own head, was far from his thoughts and where there is any way to think well of a Man, that way ought cer­tainly to be taken, both by a Christian, and an honest Man. I have not Room here to bring the most evident demonstrations of Mr. Colliers foul dealing, but I do not doubt in my Answer to his Book to prove, that he is guilty of greater Immorality, Profaneness and Blasphemy, than, from his Quota­tions, all or at least the greater part of the Authors, he has arraign'd, can be convicted of. If the publick Defamation of several Men of Reputation be Immorality, he is guilty of it. If to make half Quotations, put false, and forc'd as well as guilty Constructions on innocent Words, be dishonest, and Immoral, he is notoriously so. If (as shall be made evident) great part of the Blasphe­my he has Charg'd on the Stage, be but the Child of his own Malicious In­vention, it must unavoidably follow that a great share of the Blasphemy in his Book is his own, and not the Poets.

I have neither Room nor Leisure now to examine his Charge on the Stage, for abusing the Clergy of the Church of England, so eminent for piety and Learning: if there be any such practice, I think it ought to be reformed. Yet he of all Men living, is the most unfitting Man to appear their Champion, who has made it his endeavours to make much the greater part of that Venerable Body pass for a company of perjured, and Mercenary Times-servers. But of this more hereafter.

To insinuate himself with the Ladies, he has taken, in my Opinion, a very awkerd Method, for with all the Persons of the highest Quality, Virtue, and Learning of the Other Sex, he has fix'd an Infamy (I mean to his little Pow­er) on all the Ladies of Honour, Piety, and Sense, who remarkably encou­rag'd those very Plays he would render so monstrous. He must argue them guilty of want of Honesty or Understanding, for tho' they are not by Blushes, or any publick Indication in the Theatre to shew their dislike of these things, yet by their absence they ought to discourage Blasphemy, and such Obscenety, that our Modest Author dare not transcribe. But from the Encouragement of these Plays, 'tis evident that Mr. Collier has a Notion of Words, and Things peculiar to himself, and shou'd therefore, to make himself understood, have given us the definitions of his Terms in the front of his book. Which I desire he may do before I publish mine in Vindication of the Stage against Mr. Pryn, and Mr. Collier; in which I question not, but I shall make evident that the Wit of Man can invent no way so efficacious, as Drammatick Poetry, to advance Virtue and Wisdom, and the Supream duty of an English man, (next the Love of God which is always Supream) the Love of our Coun­try, a Lesson I shall particularly Recommend the Stage for to Mr. Collier.