A Christian has much better Sights than these to look at, he has solid Satisfactions in his power, which will please and improve him at the same time. Would a Christian be agreeably refresh'd, let him read the Scriptures, here the Entertainment will suit his Character, and be big enough for his quality. Ah, Beloved, how noble, how moving, how profitable a thing is it, to be thus employ'd, to have our expectations always in prospect, and be intent on the glories of Heaven!
Very good, and who is he so reprobated, that will not allow this to be devout, and admirable good Counsel? But now let us see how the Absolver, for all Pious quotation, has follow'd St. Cyprian's Advice; that holy Father charges him not to entertain himself with such lewd things as Plays, and he very dutifully reads a thousand as fast as he can; nay, scans and weighs 'em, and, no doubt, not without tickling satisfaction, at the present, for all his Saturnine Remarks at last. Now if his Answer to this is, That it belongs to his Office, as a Church-man, and that he could not reprehend the Vices in 'em without reading the Books themselves, I must tell him, That St. Cyprian, nor the rest of the Fathers, did not allow that, neither do we find they did it themselves, for all their inveighing against the Stage; so that he makes his own Quotation altogether invalid, He not being to do ill that good might come of it.
And therefore, why may not a Poet now, who, perhaps, is a greater Votary to St. Cyprian in other Matters than the Absolver is in this, rally him thus, and turn his Quotation upon himself, Phrase by Phrase? "What business has a Parson with such Books as these? A Parson who has not the liberty so much as to think of an ill thing? Why does he entertain himself with lewd Comedies? Has he a mind to discharge his Priestcraft, and flesh himself up for a Poet? Yes, this is the consequence, by using to see these smutty things, he'll learn to write 'em. What need I mention the Sham-Oaths, and looseness of Farce, or the Fustian raving against the Gods in Tragedy, were these things really unconcern'd with Idolatry, a Parson, of all Mankind, should not be known to ogle them, for were they not highly Criminal, the foolery of them is Egregious, and unbecoming the gravity of all that thump the Cushion, or intend to thump a true Belief into the Pates of an incorrigible Congregation."
And now methinks I see the Spiritual Critick, with a certain sallow Male-contented Phiz, poring upon this Page, and sucking his Ring-finger, gives himself an unpleasurable minute to Judge whether I have paraphras'd right or no; well, all's one, fall back fall edge, I'm resolv'd to bait him with St. Cyprian a little more. "A Parson has, or should have, much better Books than Plays to look in; he has many Authors of Pious and Solid Authorities to please, and improve himself with, at the same time. Would a Parson be agreeably refresh'd, let him read the Scriptures, let him find out Treatises of Morality, Meekness, Charity, and holy Life, there the Entertainment will suit his Character. Ah, Beloved, how noble, how moving, how profitable a pleasure would it be to us, to see a Parson thus employ'd, to let the Stage's diversions be too little for his grave Consideration, and be intent himself on the glories of Heaven!" And here now, I do not at all question but the Absolver, a little nettled at this last Parallel, will fall to biting of his fingers again, his Righteous Spirit being offended at my Insolence, in scribling the Word Parson so oft, it being a Nickname, and only invented by some idle fellow, who resolv'd to use the Order with no more respect. Why truly, I confess, in this Case, Modesty is a little gravell'd, but then she may thank him for it, for he has dignify'd the Poets with so many Hell-defying, deep-mouth'd Swearing, Relapsing, Witch-riding Titles, that the worthy Ministry cannot reasonably be angry, especially when the Word is only meant to him, whom I shall prove has lessen'd the true Title, by his Immorality and Hypocrisie, more than ever the Poets did the Reputation of the Stage, by their Time-serving Loosenesses and Licentious Diversions.
It is, no doubt, a considerable Maim to us, in some Peoples opinions, who never digested the benefits arising from the Stage in its Moral Representations, that this smarting Lash is given us by a Clergy-man of the Church of England, that is, good friends, if he be so, for some Judicious Heads are not resolv'd in that Affirmative--but let that be discuss'd in another place, I'm sure, if he is, Obedience to Government, in the first place, should be his principal Tenet; and whether that is a part of the Absolver's Character, I think has sufficiently appear'd. But let him be what he will, I shall now take the pleasure to inform those People, that but few years since, we had a Man of Wit and Learning, that wore the Gown, and as true a Son of the Church as she could possibly breed; that was intirely devoted a Champion in our Cause, and Asserted the Rights of the Stage with Success and Applause; and whoever will but look back a little, and incline his Eyes towards the delectable River Cam, may Encounter the fam'd Wit of that University, the Ingenious Mr. Thomas Randolph, who in one of his great many admirable Pieces, call'd the Muses Looking-glass, makes his whole Moral to be the Vindication of the Stage, and its usefulness, and by shewing the passions in their Kinds, contrives to confute some canting prejudic'd Zealots, whose ignorance and frenzy had conspir'd before to run it down; I will treat the Reader here with some of it.
A Country Lass, for such she was, tho here In th' City may be Sluts as well as there; Kept her hands clean, for those being always seen, Had told her else how sluttish she had been; Yet was her Face, as dirty as the Stall Of a Fish-monger, or a Usurer's Hall Begrim'd with filth, that you might boldly say, She was a true piece of Prometheus's Clay. At last, within a Pail, for Country Lasses Have oft you know, no other Looking-glasses, She view'd her dirty Face, and doubtless would Have blush'd, if through so much dirt she could. At last, within that Water, that I say, That shew'd the Dirt, she wash'd the Dirt away. So, Comedies, as Poets still intend 'em, Serve first to shew your faults, and then to mend 'em.
Here was a pretty Compliment to our Art now, a good Moral with good Manners into the bargain; and yet 'tis certain the times then were as Licentious as now, and the Poets took as little care of their Writings; but Mr Randolph always made his good Nature agree with his Wit, and put as favourable construction upon Scenes of Diversion, as reason would allow, tho he perhaps had as much occasion for 50 l. as the Absolver when he writ his Book. He knew that if there was so stupid a Temper, that the Moral of a Play could not reform, the looseness that was in it could not prejudice; nor if a wild Town-Fellow, or a baffl'd Bully, or passionate Lover, being characters in a Play, spoke some extravagances proper for 'em, would he roar it out for Blasphemy, Profaneness, &_c._ and make a malicious scrutiny, and unreasonable interpretation of words, which had no other intention but to make the Character natural by customary manner of Speech, as he has shewn examples by two of his own, in the extremes of Vain-glory and Hypocrisie: And yet this Gentleman was as Learned, as good a Critick, and as Consciencious a man, as our Absolver can pretend to be; and if I say, I had somewhat a better Title to Modesty and good Manners, I think it may be made out, he having a civil regard to the Poets, defended their Cause, and excus'd some failings for the sake of some other Merits, when this treats 'em all like fools, tho he has only rak'd up a few of their errors, which he has made a huge heap of Rubbish, by peering through his own Magnifying Glass, without any allowance to their qualifications, or any modest care to do 'em justice, which ought to have been one way as well as another.
So much then for his Modesty in one of its kinds, which is decency of behaviour and expression; as for the other, he has plaid such a Game at Hide and Seek with us, that we have been long in a Mist, not knowing how to discover it: But the Air clears, and 'tis time for us now to take the right end of the perspective, tho he would give us the Wrong, and then try if we cannot discern, in the midst of his Garden of Divinity, a neat friend of his call'd Immorality, tho he would subtly insinuate him into the world as a stranger, leading his darling daughter dear Hypocrisie into an Arbor; where, after they had been some time alone, our Critick knowing how to be civil to his own creature, and to give 'em time enough to beget a right understanding, he is very glad at last to be a third in the company.
I should not have put him upon this warm Office, if I had not found him too hot and bold with our Famous Ancient Truth-telling Poet Juvenal, when in his Book he tells us, he teaches those vices he would correct, and writes more like a Pimp than a Poet [Footnote: Collier, p. 70, 71.]--But upon just consideration, I believe if the Absolver taught the Art of Rebellion no more than Juvenal the Art of Pimping, the one would be respected in after Ages, as much as we know the other has in the former: But every one is Fool or Knave that is not of this Gentlemans kidney. A little while after, at the usual rate of his own accustom'd civility, he falls upon the Renown'd Shakespear, and says, he is so guilty, that he is not fit to make an Evidence. [Footnote: Collier, p. 50.] Why now it 'twere possible for his Complexion to blush, there's ne're a Robe of any Friend Cardinal the Absolver has at Rome, that can be redder than his would be for such a Position: Nor does it end here, but is mixt with some more foolish and insolent Remarks in another place, upon the admirable Tragedy of Hamlet. And here he has no other way to shew his malice, but by ridiculously quibbling upon the prettiest Character in it, the innocent young Virgin Ophelia, who, because the Poet makes her run mad for the death of her Father, and loss of her Lover, and consequently makes her sing and speak some idle extravagant things, as on such an occasion is natural, and at last drown her self, he very masterly tells us, the Poet, since he was resolv'd to drown her like a Kitten, should have set her a swimming a little sooner; to keep her alive, only to sully her Reputation, is very cruel. [Footnote: Collier, p. 10.] Yes, but I would fain ask Doctor Absolution in what she has sullied her Reputation, I am sure five hundred Audiences that have view'd her could never find it out, tho he has; but the Absolver can't help being positive and partial to his own humour, tho he were to be hang'd, as the Lady was drown'd, for he is very angry in another place with the aforesaid Author, for making Sir Hugh Evens in the Merry Wives of Windsor, a silly, eating, chattering Welch Priest, but vindicates and speaks well, of Sir John, Parson of Wrotham, in the History of Sir John Oldcastle; [Footnote: Collier, p. 125.] tho he swears, games, wenches, pads, tilts and drinks, and does things which our Reformers Guts are ready to come up at another time, only, forsooth, because he is stout; but 'tis indeed only because he is a Parson, and sullen, which he thinks wise, for he cannot endure that Copyhold should be touch'd, as you may see more plainly a little further, where he says in Loves Labour Lost, the Curate plays the fool egregiously; and so does the Poet too: there he clenches the Nail, there he gives Shakespear a bold stroke, there obstinacy and malice appear in true colours: And yet if a parcel of the ones Plays, were set up by way of Auction against t'others Sermons and Essays; nay, tho the Loyal and Politick Desertion discussd was thrown in to boot, I know not what the Grave would do, but I am sure the Wise would quickly find difference. And yet to Remark him nicely, this humour of railing is only where the Poets do not suit with his design; for in another place you'll find this same Shakespear, that was before too guilty to make an Evidence, a very civil person now; for the Reformer is troubl'd with Fits, you must know, disturbances i th' brain, which makes him forget one hour what he rails at another, for here now Shakespear's Falstaff is call'd the admir'd, because he is to serve his turn. And that the Poet was not so partial as to let his humour compound for his lewdness; but punishes him at last, tho he makes him all his life time a damnable, smutty fellow. [Footnote: ...54] And now, I think, having said enough of his modest behaviour, 'twon't be amiss to have a touch or two at his Hypocrisy. And first, concerning the word Smutt.
