became disreputable. In an old poem published A. D. 1509, we find them classed as follows, 66 'Chimney swepers and costerd mongers, Fyshers of the see and muskel takers, In 1572, itinerant performers had become so numerous and troublesome that a statute was enacted against them, ranking juglers, pedlers, tinkers, bearwards, common players and minstrels together as rogues and vagabonds." But through the influence of royal patronage in encouraging men of talent, and the liberality of the wealthy in building theatres, there was a progressive improvement in dramatic exhibitions. At the commencement of the 17th century there were no less than eleven regular playhouses in London and the insipid productions of Edwards and Whetstone soon yielded the stage to the real genius of Greene and Marlowe, and after them to Shakspeare. Though the stage was thus rescued from disgrace it was not purged of its immoralities. Even in the days of its glory, it still exhibited traces of its impure origin. The splendid moral sentiments which adorn the pages of Shakspeare are probably rather the reflection of the virtuous morals of his age than the dictates of his own heart; for there is little doubt that the author himself was a libertine in principle and practice. We may safely conclude that he was fond of the pleasures of tavern life from the manner in which he treats intemperance. He ever treats it as a venial fault and makes the follies and crimes of inebriates rather subjects of pleasantry than censure. For proof of this, we need only refer to the characters of Prince Hal, and Falstaff. Concerning the general character of his works a distinguished English writer remarks, "The plays of this most unequal of all poets contain so much that is vulgar, so much that is absurd and so much that is impure; so much indecent levity, false wit, and gross description, that he should only be read in parcels, and with the nicest selection. His more exceptionable pieces should not be read at all.” The morality of the stage depends in a great measure upon the morality of the age. A licentious community will not tolerate a virtuous drama or patronise a virtuous author. Hence the drama generally, represents the prevailing manners of the age. Authors who write for their bread must please their employers. "The drama's laws the drama's patrons give; For they that live to please, must please to live." The reign of Charles II. is well known as a period of uncommon licentiousness. Charles himself was an abandoned profligate. He squandered millions upon harlots and parasites. Drunkenness and impurity were then the honored badges of loyalty. Baxter says, "not only seriousness but even temperance and chastity were signs of non-conformity and prognostics of rebellion; and the nation in spite of God's judgments seemed ripening for the doom of Sodom." Öther writers confirm these statements. Neal, in his history of the Puritans says, "There were two play-houses erected in the neighborhood of the court. Women actresses were introduced into the theatres, which had not been known before; the most lewd and obscene plays were brought on the stage; and the more obscene the better was the king pleased. Nothing was to be seen at court but feasting, hard drinking, revelling and amorous intrigues, which engendered the most enormous vices." The manners of the court were imitated by the common people and impiety and debauchery became the prevailing characteristics of the age. The wits of the age were generally leaders in these infamous practices, and those authors whose private life was free from stain, prostituted their talents to please the court. Such was Dryden. His works contain many examples of dissolute licentiousness furnished not from inclination but in way of trade. He bartered away his innocence for bread. Hear the comment of the great English Moralist" upon it. "Of the mind that can trade in corruption and can deliberately pollute itself with ideal wickedness for the sake of spreading the contagion in society, I wish not to conceal or excuse the depravity. Such degradation of the dignity of genius, such abuse of superlative abilities cannot be contemplated but with grief and indignation." Dryden lived to repent of his folly but could not atone for the mischief he had done. Dramatic writers, since the days of Dryden, have neither improved in manner, matter nor morals. Wycherly appears to have been a handsome libertine with a tolerable share of impudence 66 SECOND SERIES, VOL. III. NO. 11. 4 and conceit joined to other qualities of a more agreeable and captivating nature. The perusal of the works of Congreve, says Johnson, "will make no man better. Their ultimate effect is to represent pleasure in alliance with vice, and to relax those obligations by which life ought to be regulated." This criticism would apply equally well to most of the productions of the English drama from the reign of Charles II. to the present time. Sheridan was one of the most popular writers and orators during the reign of George the third. School for Scandal and another of his comedies are said to have been received with unbounded applause, at the two most celebrated theatres in London, on the very night when he made his celebrated speech against Warren Hastings. This unrivalled orator, wit and dramatist, was notoriously dissolute and intemperate, and his character is stamped upon his productions. Wraxhall says of him, " at the age of thirty-three he was at the height of his popularity. It might be said of his aspect as Milton does of the fallen angel's form, His Excess of wine had not degraded its lineaments, eclipsed its fine expression, covered him with disgusting eruptions, and obtained for him the dramatic nickname of Bardolph. At sixty, he reminded me of one of the companions of Ulysses, who having tasted of Circe's charmed cup, instantly -'lost his upright shape And downward fell into a groveling swine.'' At the present time the popularity of theatrical exhibitions is waning. The gay, the fashionable and dissolute are seeking other sources of excitement. Novel reading has been in a great measure substituted for the theatre. This species of amusement, or rather, "beggarly day dreaming," as it is called by Mr. Coleridge, is one of very questionable moral influence. When we prefer novel-reading to theatre-going, we do but choose the less of two acknowledged evils. There are honorable exceptions, however, to this remark, both among the early and later novelists. The novels of Richardson, which were the reigning entertainment of the last century, but now obsolete, contain more maxims of virtue and sound moral principle than many books called moral. On the other hand, the popular novels of Fielding and Smollet, which still maintain their popularity with the reading world, are polluted with language unpardonably gross and disgusting and with descriptions suited only to the brothel and dram-shop. The reader is thus amused at the expense of delicacy and virtue. Hannah More says, in one of her letters, "I never saw Johnson really angry with me but once; and his displeasure did him so much honor that I loved him the better for it. I alluded rather flippantly to some witty passage in Tom Jones; he replied, I am shocked to hear you quote from so vicious a book. I am sorry to hear you have read it; a confession which no modest lady should ever make. I scarcely know a more corrupt book." Sir Walter Scott, who has probably laid a heavier tax upon the time and money of the reading community than any other author that ever lived, furnishes a tolerably safe amusement to those who aim at nothing higher and would seek something worse, if not thus employed, not because he says so much in favor of virtue, but because he says so little in favor of vice. The authoress quoted above says of his poetry and fictitious works, "I am far from putting Byron and Walter Scott on a level; the one is an anti-moralist indeed, but surely I may say the other is a non-moralist." But let us leave the drama and novels and pass to the consideration of Lyric Poetry, which is one of the strong holds of popular vices both in ancient and modern literature, because it is the store-house of popular feelings and sympathies. Fletcher did not speak unadvisedly when he said, "Let me make the songs of a people and you may make its laws." With the intemperance of Grecian lyrics the name of Anacreon is intimately associated. A debauchee in opinion and practice, his summum bonum was sensual pleasure. "Wine was alike the inspiration of his muse, his love and his joy." Yet vile as he was he has been the idol and pattern of many a Christian poet. Cowley, in his eulogy upon Anacreon, says: "Had I the power of creation My creatures should be all like thee, Wisdom itself they should not hear Cowley died of a fever caught by lying under a hedge all night, in a fit of intoxication. But the sentiments of the inebriate still live and breathe in his songs. The writings of Anacreon betray the systematic toper. He laughs at gray hairs and wrinkles, and revels on the verge of the grave. The premonitions of death and present cares were with him only incentives to mirth and inebriation. His object was present enjoyment. He says, To-day I'll haste to quaff the wine For death may come with brow unpleasant, And grimly bid us drink no more. But Anacreon was a heathen and ignorant of higher and better hopes, mistook the road to happiness through the flowery paths of pleasure. Let us hear the inspirations of the Christian Burns: Here's a bottle and an honest friend, Believe me, happiness is shy And comes not ay when sought. The sensualist, Anacreon, vainly thought wine a remedy for Wo; he says, Man of sorrow, drown thy thinking, Grasp the bowl in nectar sinking, Oh let us quaff the rosy wave Which Bacchus loves, which Bacchus gave, And, in the goblet rich and deep, Cradle our crying woes to sleep. Compare him again with the "divine Burns" whose pleasing strains are the solace of the aged and delight of the young |