A short vindication of The relapse and the provok'd wife from immorality and prophaneness by the author.

A Short Vindication of the Relapse and the Provok'd Wife, from Immorality and Prophaneness.

WHEN first I saw Mr. Collier's Perfor∣mance upon the Ir∣regularities of the Stage (in which amongst the rest of the Gentle∣men, he's pleas'd to afford me some particular Favours), I was far from designing to trouble either my self or the Town with a Vindication; I thought his Charges against me for Immo∣rality and Prophaneness were grounded upon so much Mistake, that every one (who had had the curiosity to see the Plays, or on

this Occasion should take the trou∣ble to read 'em) would easily dis∣cover the Root of the Invective, and that 'twas the Quarrel of his Gown, and not of his God, that made him take Arms against me.

I found the Opinion of my Friends and Acquaintance the same, (at least they told me so) and the Righteous as well as the Unrighteous persuaded me, The Attack was so weak, the Town wou'd defend it self; That the General's Head was too hot for his Conduct to be wise; his Shot too much at Random ever to make a Breach; and that the Siege wou'd be raised, without my taking the Field.

I easily believ'd, what my La∣ziness made me wish; but I have since found, That by the Industry of some People, whose Temporal Interest engages 'em in the Squab∣ble;

and the Natural Propensity of others, to be fond of any thing that's Abusive; this Lampoon has got Credit enough in some Places to brand the Persons it mentions with almost as bad a Character, as the Author of it has fixt upon himself, by his Life and Conver∣sation in the World.

I think 'tis therefore now a thing no farther to be laught at. Should I wholly sit still, those People who are so much mistaken to think I have been busy to encou∣rage Immorality, may double their Mistake, and fancy I profess it: I will therefore endeavour, in a very few Pages to convince the World, I have brought nothing upon the Stage, that proves me more an Atheist than a Bigot.

I may be blind in what relates to my self; 'tis more than possi∣ble, for most People are so: But

if I judge right, what I have done is in general a Discouragement to Vice and Folly; I am sure I in∣tended it, and I hope I have per∣formed it. Perhaps I have not gone the common Road, nor ob∣served the strictest Prescriptions: But I believe those who know this Town, will agree, That the Rules of a College of Divines will in an Infinity of Cases, fall as short of the Disorders of the Mind, as those of the Physicians do in the Diseases of the Body; and I think a man may vary from 'em both, without being a Quack in either.

The real Query is, Whether the Way I have varied, be likely to have a good Effect, or a bad one? That's the true State of the Case; which if I am cast in, I don't question however to gain at least thus much of my Cause, That it shall be allow'd I aim'd at

the Mark, whether I hit it or not. This, if it won't vindicate my Sense, will justify my Morals; and shew the World, That this Honest Gentleman, in stretching his Malice, and curtailing his Cha∣rity, has play'd a Part which wou'd have much better become a Licentious Poet, than a Reve∣rend Divine.

Tho' I resolve to use very few Words, I would willingly observe some Method, were it possible; that the World, who is the Judge, might sum up the Evidence the easier, and bring the Right and Wrong into the shorter (and by consequence the clearer) View: But his Play is so wild, I must be content to take the Ball as it comes, and return it if I can; which whe∣ther I always do or not, however, I believe will prove no great mat∣ter, since I hope 'twill appear,

where he gives me the Rest, he makes but a wide Chace: His most threatning Strokes end in nothing at all; when he Cuts, he's under Line; when he Forces, he's up in the Nets. But to leave Tennis, and come to the Matter.

The First Chapter in his Book is upon the Immodesty of the Stage; where he tells you how va∣luable a Qualification Modesty is in a Woman: For my part I am wholly of his mind; I think 'tis almost as valuable in a Woman as in a Clergyman; and had I the ruling of the Roast, the one shou'd neither have a Husband, nor the t'other a Benefice without it. If this Declaration won't serve to shew I'm a Friend to't, let us see what Proof this Gentleman can give of the contrary.

I don't find him over-stock'd with Quotations in this Chapter: He's forc'd, rather than say no∣thing, to fall upon poor Miss Hoy∣den. * 1.1 He does not come to Par∣ticulars, but only mentions her with others, for an immodest Cha∣racter. What kind of Immode∣sty he means, I can't tell: But I suppose he means Lewdness, be∣cause he generally means wrong. For my part, I know of no Baw∣dy she talks: If the Strength of his Imagination gives any of her Discourse that Turn, I suppose it may be owing to the Number of Bawdy Plays he has read, which have debauch'd his Taste, and made every thing seem Salt, that comes in his way.

He has but one Quotation more in this long Chapter, that I am * 1.2 concern'd in: And there he points at the Provok'd Wife, as if there

were something in the 41st Page of that Play, to discountenance Modesty in Women. But since he did not think fit to acquaint the Reader what it was, I will.

Lady Brute and Bellinda speak∣ing of the Smuttiness of some Plays, Bellinda says,

Why don't some Reformer or other beat the Poet for it?

L. B. Because he is not so sure of our Private Approbation, as of our Publick Thanks: Well, sure there is not upon Earth so impertinent a Thing as Womens Modesty.

B. Yes, Mens Fantasque, that obli∣ges us to it: If we quit our Mode∣sty, they say we lose our Charms; and yet they know. That very Modesty is Affectation, and rail at our Hypo∣crisy.

Now which way this Gentle∣man will extract any thing from hence, to the Discouragement of Modesty, is beyond my Chymi∣stry: 'Tis plainly and directly the contrary. Here are two Women (not over Virtuous, as their whole Character shews), who being alone, and upon the rallying Pin, let fall a Word between Jest and Earnest, as if now and then they found themselves cramp'd by their Modesty. But lest this shou'd possibly be mistaken by some part of the Audience, less apprehen∣sive of Right and Wrong than the rest, they are put in mind at the same Instant, That (with the Men) if they quit their Modesty, they lose their Charms: Now I thought 'twas impossible to put the Ladies in mind of any thing more likely to make 'em pre∣serve it. I have nothing more

laid to my Charge in the First Chapter.

The Second is entituled, The Prophaneness of the Stage; which he ranges under Two Heads.

Their Cursing and Swearing. And Their Abuse of Religion and the Holy Scriptures.

As to Swearing, I agree with him in what he says of it in gene∣ral, That 'tis contrary both to Re∣ligion and Good Manners, espe∣cially before Women: But I say, what he calls Swearing in the Play-house, (at least where I have to answer for it) is a Breach upon neither.

And here I must desire the Rea∣der to observe, His Accusations against me run almost always in general Terms, he scarce ever

comes to Particulars: I hope 'twill be allow'd a good sign on my side, that it always falls to my turn to quote the thing at length in my Defence, which he huddles together in my Charge. What follows will be an Instance of it.

He says in the 57th Page, (where the Business of Swearing is upon the Tapis) with a great deal of Honesty and Charity, That in this respect the Relapse and the Provok'd Wife are particu∣larly rampant and scandalous.

Wou'd not any body imagine from hence, that the Oaths that were used there, were no less than those of a Losing Bully at Bag∣gammon, or a Bilk'd Hackney-Coachman? Yet after all, the stretch of the Prophaneness lies in Lord Foppington's Gad, and Miss Hoyden's I-Cod. This is all this Gentleman's Zeal is in such a Fer∣ment about.

Now whether such Words are entirely justifiable or not, there's this at least to be said for 'em; That People of the Nicest Rank both in their Religion and their Manners throughout Christendom use 'em.

In France you meet with Par Die, Par Bleu, Ma Foy, &c. in the constant Conversation of the La∣dies and the Clergy, I mean those who are Religious even up to Bi∣gotry it self; and accordingly we see they are always allow'd in their Plays: And in England, we meet with an Infinity of People, Clergy as well as Laity, and of the best Lives and Conversations, who use the Words I-gad, I-faith, Codsfish, Cot's my Life, and many more, which all lye liable to the same Objection.

Now whether they are right or wrong in doing it, I think at least

their Example is Authority enough for the Stage; and shou'd have been enough to have kept so good a Christian as Mr. Collier from loading his Neighbour with so foul a Charge as Blasphemy and Prophaneness, unless he had been better provided to make it good.

The next thing he takes to task in this Chapter, is the Abuse of Religion and Holy Scripture. Now here I think he shou'd first clearly have prov'd, That no Story, Phrase, or Expression whatsoever in the Scripture, whether in the Divine, Moral, or Historical part of it, shou'd be either repeated, or so much as alluded to, upon the Stage, to how useful an End soever it might be applied: This I say he shou'd have first put past a dispute, before he fell upon me for an Abuser of the Holy Scri∣pture;

for unless that be to abuse it, I am innocent.

The Scripture is made up of History, Prophecy, and Precept; which are things in their Nature capable of no other Burlesque than what calls in question either their Reality or their Sense: Now if any Allusion I have made, be found even to glance at either of them, I shall be ready to ask Par∣don both of God and the Church. But to the Trial.

The first Accusation lies upon the Provok'd Wife, where Rasor is * 1.3 highly blam'd by Mr. Collier; for, in the 77th Page, pleading the same Excuse to an untoward Prank he had newly play'd, which Adam did heretofore upon a more unfortunate Occasion: That Wo∣man having tempted him, the Devil overcame him. How the Scripture is affronted by this, I can't tell;

here's nothing that reflects upon the Truth of the Story: It may indeed put the Audience in mind of their Forefather's Crime, and his Folly, which in my Opinion, like Gunpowder-Treason, ought ne∣ver to be forgot.

The Line in Rasor's Confession, * 1.4 which Mr. Collier's Modesty ties him from repeating, makes the Close of this Sentence: And if my Prayers were to be heard, her punish∣ment for so doing shou'd be like the Serpent's of old, she shou'd lye upon her face all the days of her life.

All I shall say to this, is, That an Obscene Thought must be bu∣ried deep indeed, if he don't smell it out; and that I find he has a much greater Veneration for the Serpent than I have, who shall al∣ways make a very great distincti∣on between my Respects to God and the Devil.

He runs a Muck at all. The next he launces at is my Lord Fop∣pington. * 1.5 And here he's as angry at me for being for Religion, as be∣fore for being against it, (which shews you the Man's resolv'd to quarrel with me): For I think his Lordship's Words which he quotes about St. Iames's Church, are be∣yond all dispute on the Minister's side, though not on his Congre∣gation's: The Indecencies of the Place, the Levity of the Women, and the unseasonable Gallantry of the Men, are expos'd in the very * 1.6 Lines this Gentleman is pleas'd to quote for their Prophaneness. For though my Lord Foppington is not suppos'd to speak what he does to a Religious End, yet 'tis so or∣dered, that his manner of speak∣ing it, together with the Cha∣racter he represents, plainly and obviously instructs the Audience

(even to the meanest Capacity) that what he says of his Church-Behaviour, is design'd for their Contempt, and not for their Imi∣tation: This is so notorious, that no School-boy cou'd mistake it: I therefore hope those who observe this Man of Reformation is capa∣ble of giving so good an Inten∣tion so pernicious a Turn, will conclude, when he sat down to write upon the Prophaneness of the Poets, he had nothing less in his Head, than to refine the Mo∣rals of the Age.

From the Elder Brother he falls upon the Younger; I suppose, be∣cause he takes me to be his Friend, for I find no other reason for his Quarrel: He accuses him for assu∣ring his Man Lory, that he has kick'd his Conscience down Stairs; and he observes, he says, by the way, that this Loose Young Gen∣tleman

is the Author's Favourite. Now the Author observes by the way, That he's always observing wrong; for he has no other proof of his being his Favourite, than that he has help'd him to a Wife, who's likely to make his Heart ake: But I suppose Mr. Collier is of Opinion, that Gold can never be bought too dear.

The next Flirt is at Worthy and * 1.7 Berinthia; and here he tells you Two Characters of Figure deter∣mine the Point in Defence of Pimping. I can pardon his Mi∣stake in the business of Pimping, because I charitably believe the University may have been the only Place he has had any Experience of it in, and there 'tis not mana∣ged indeed by People of any ex∣traordinary Figure: But he may be inform'd if he pleases, that in this Righteous Town the Profes∣sion

soars somewhat higher, and that (out of my Lord-Mayor's Liberties) there are such things as Worthy and Berinthia to be found. I brought 'em upon the Stage to shew the World how much the Trade was improv'd; but this Gentleman I find won't take my Word for't.

Nurse is to have the next Kick o' the Breech, and 'tis for being too Prophane. But that's left for me to quote again: For his part, all he repeats from her is, That * 1.8 his Worship (young Fashion) over∣flows with his Mercy and his Bounty: He is not only pleas'd to forgive us our Sins, but which is more than all, has prevail'd with me to become the Wife of thy Bosom.

This he says is dull: Why so 'tis; and so is he, for thinking it worth his finding fault with, un∣less it had been spoke by some∣body

else than a Nurse, and to some∣body else than Mr. Bull. But the Prophane Stuff he says precedes it, I'll acquaint the Reader with. She says (speaking to the Chap∣lain) Roger, Are not you a wicked man, Roger, to set your strength against a weak Woman, and persuade her it was no Sin to conceal Miss's Nuptials? My Conscience flies in my face for it, thou Priest of Baal; and I find by woful Experience, thy Ab∣solution is not worth an old Cassock.

The Reader may here be pleas'd to take notice what this Gentle∣man would conster Prophane∣ness, if he were once in the Sad∣dle with a good Pair of Spurs up∣on his Heels. I have all manner of Respect for the Clergy, but I shou'd be very sorry to see the Day, that a Nurse's cracking a Jest up∣on a Chaplain (where it has no Allusion to Religion) shou'd be

brought within the Verge of Pro∣phaneness: But the next Chapter, about the Abuse of the Clergy, will give occasion for some more Remarks of this kind.

Amanda comes next, I thought she might have scap'd, but it seems with all her Vertue, she charges the Bible with Untruths, and says,

Good Gods, what slippery stuff are men compos'd of! sure the Account of their Creation's false, and 'twas the Woman's Rib that they were form'd of.

I'm sorry the Gentleman who writ this Speech of Amanda's, is not here to defend himself; but he be∣ing gone away with the Czar, who has made him Poet Laureat of Muscovy, I can do no less for the Favour he intended me, than to say this in his Justification. That to my knowledge he has too much

Veneration for the Bible, to in∣tend this a charge upon the Truth of it; and that it appears very plain to me, Amanda intended no more to call it in question by those words, than Mr. Collier's Wife might be suppos'd to do, if from some Observations upon his Book, she shou'd say, Sure 'tis a mistake in the New Testament, that the fruits of the Spirit are, Modesty, Tempe∣rance, Iustice, Meekness, Charity, &c. for my Jeremy is a spiritual Person, yet has not One of these marks about him.

Worthy follows: And I am * 1.9 threatned with no less than Eter∣nal Damnation, for making him say to his Procuress (when she had promis'd to do what he'd have her) Thou Angel of Light, let me fall down and adore thee. But I am not commended for the Answer she makes him, to put the Audi∣ence

in mind, she was not sup∣pos'd to deserve that Compli∣ment, Thou Minister of Darkness * 1.10 get up again, for I hate to see the Devil at his Devotions. If Mr. Col∣lier had quoted this too, he had given a better Character of me, and I think of himself.

A Page or two farther, he has a snap, as he goes by, at the Pro∣vok'd Wife. And here he's at foul * 1.11 play again. He accuses Lady Brute for setting down as a Pre∣cept, that the Part of a Wife, is to Cuckold her Husband; where∣as her words are these, In short, Bellinda, he has us'd me so barba∣rously of late, I cou'd almost resolve to play the downright Wife, and Cuckold him.

This indeed is saying, Wives do Cuckold their Husbands (I ask the Ladies Pardons for Lying): But 'tis not saying they shou'd do

so: I hope Mr. Collier will ask mine.

Lady Brute in her next Reply to Bellinda, says, what I own at first view seems much more liable to exception. Yet least the Audi∣ence shou'd mistake her Raillery for her serious Opinion, there is care taken immediately to inform 'em otherwise by making her re∣primand her self in these words to Bellinda. But I shall play the fool and jest on, till I make you begin to think I am in earnest.

Here, methinks, he shou'd have commended me for my Caution. But he was surly, and wou'd not.

Young Fashion is next accus'd for saying to Lory (when he had a prospect of getting Miss Hoyden) Providence, thou seest at last, takes care of men of Merit.

This surely is a very poor Charge, and a Critick must be reduc'd to short Commons to chop at it. Every body knows the word Providence in Common Discourse goes for Fortune. If it be answer'd, Let it go for what it will, it is in strictness God Al∣mighty; I answer again, That if you go to strictness, Fortune is God Almighty as much as Provi∣dence, and yet no One ever thought it Blasphemy to say, For∣tune's blind, or Fortune favours Fools: And the reason why it is not thought so, is because 'tis known it is not meant so.

Berinthia comes again, and is blam'd for telling Amanda, Worthy had taken her to pieces like a Text, and preach'd upon every part of her; This is call'd a Lewd and Prophane Allegory. I con∣fess it has at a glance, the appear∣ance

of somewhat which it is not, and that methinks Mr. Collier might have been content to have charg'd it with; but he always takes care to stretch that way that becomes him least, and so is sure to be in the wrong himself, whether I am so or not.

Neither the Woman in general, nor any particular part about her, is liken'd to the Text; The Si∣mile lies between the Manner of a Minister's using his Text, and Worthy's Flourishing upon his Mi∣stress; So that the Prophanation's got in the wrong place here again. But supposing the Minister to be as Mr. Collier wou'd have him, as sacred a thing as his Text, there's nothing here that Burlesques him; 'Tis a Simile indeed, but a very inoffensive one, for it abuses no∣body; and as to the Lewdness on't, I refer my self to the Reader

here again, whether this Gentle∣man does not give us another In∣stance of his having a very quick Nose, when some certain things are in the Wind. I believe, had the Obscenity he has routed up here, been buried as deep in his Church-yard, the Yarest Boar in his Parish wou'd hardly have tost up his Snout at it.

Berinthia's Close of her Speech, Now consider of what has been said, and Heaven give you grace to put it in practice, brings up the Rear of the Attack in this Chapter. These I own are words often us'd at the close of a Sermon, and therefore perhaps might as well have been let alone here. A known Pulpit-Expression sounds loose upon the Stage, though nothing is really af∣fronted by it; for that I think in this Case is very plain, to any bo∣dy that considers, who it is that

speaks these words, and her man∣ner of doing it. There's nothing serious in't, as if she wou'd per∣swade either Amanda or the Audi∣ence that Heaven approv'd what she was doing: 'Tis only a loose Expression, suitable to the Chara∣cter she represents, which, through∣out the Play, sufficiently shews, she's brought upon the Stage to Ridicule something that's off on't.

These three or four last Quo∣tations Mr. Collier says are down∣right Blasphemy, and within the Law. I hope the Reader will perceive he says wrong.

The next Chapter is upon the Abuse of the Clergy: And here we are come to the Spring of the Quarrel. I believe whoever reads Mr. Collier, need take very little pains to find out, that in all pro∣bability, had the Poets never dis∣cover'd

a Rent in the Gown, he had done by Religion, as I do by my Brethren, left it to shift for it self.

In starting this Point, he opens a large Field for an Adversary to Rove in, he unbars the Gate of the Town, forgetting the Weak∣ness of the Garrison; were I the Governor on't, I'd commend him for his Courage, much more than for his Prudence.

I once thought to have said a great deal upon this Occasion; But I have chang'd my mind, and will trouble the Reader with no more than I think is necessary to clear my self from the Charge of Ridiculing the Function of a Cler∣gyman.

I am as fully convinc'd, as the most Pious Divine, or the most Refin'd Politician can wish me, how necessary the Practice of all

Moral Vertues is to our Happiness in this World, as well as to that of another. And this Opinion has its natural Consequence with me, which is, to give me a regard to every Instrument of their Promo∣tion.

The Institution of the Clergy, I own to be both in the Intention and Capacity the most effectual of all; I have therefore for the Fun∣ction all imaginable Deference, and wou'd do all things to sup∣port it in such a kind of Credit, as will render it most formidable in the execution of its Design. But in this Mr. Collier and I, I doubt, are not like to agree.

He is of Opinion, That Riches and Plenty, Title, State and Do∣minion, give a Majesty to Pre∣cept, and cry Place for it where∣ever it comes; That Christ and his Apostles took the thing by the

wrong Handle; and that the Pope and his Cardinals have much refin'd upon 'em in the Policy of Instru∣ction. That shou'd a Vicar, like St. Iohn, feed on Locusts and Wild Honey, his Parish wou'd think he had too ill a taste for himself, to cater for them; and that a Bishop, who, like St. Paul, shou'd decline Temporal Domi∣nion, wou'd shew himself such an Afs, his Advice wou'd go for no∣thing.

This I find is Mr. Collier's Opi∣nion; and if ever I take Orders, I won't swear it shan't be mine: But then I fear I shall continue in my Heresy; Three Articles of which are these:

• 1. That the Shepherd, who has least Business at home in his House, is likely to take the most care of his Flock.
• ...

• 2. That he who finds fault with the Sauce he greedily sops his bread in, gives very good cause to suspect he'd fain keep it all to himself.
• 3. That he who is strict in the Performance of his Duty, needs no Other help, to be respected in his Office.

These Pills, I own, are as bitter to the Flesh, as they are agreeable to the Spirit; but the Physick's sound, and the Prescription is so necessary, that when nothing else will persuade some people to swal∣low 'em, I think 'tis not amiss, they shou'd be forc'd down by the Stage. If any Poet has gone far∣ther, let him answer for't; I'll en∣deavour to show I have not. And first I'm to answer for Sir Iohn Brute's putting on a Gown to A∣buse the Clergy.

If a Sir Iohn Brute off the Stage shou'd put on a Gown in his Cups, and pass his Lewdness upon the World, for the Extravegances of a Churchman; This, I own, wou'd be an Abuse and a Prejudice to the Clergy. But to expose this very Man upon the Stage, for putting this Affront upon the Gown; to put the Audience in mind, that there were Laymen so wicked, they car'd not what they did to bring Religion in Con∣tempt, and were therefore always ready to throw dirt upon the Pi∣lots of it:

This I believe no body but a Man of Mr. Collier's heat, could have mistaken so much, to quote it un∣der the head, of the Clergy abus'd by the Stage. But Men that ride Post, with the Reins loose upon the Neck, must expect to get falls. When he writes again, he'll take

up perhaps, and mix a little Lead with his Quicksilver.

The Justice does indeed drop a word which alludes to the Jolly Doings of some Boon Compani∣ons in the Fenns; and if I had let him drop a word or two more, I think I had made him a better Ju∣stice than I have.

In the Relapse, Mr. Collier com∣plains that his Brother Bull wishes the married Couple Joy in Lan∣guage so horribly smutty and Pro∣phane, to transcribe it wou'd blot the Paper too much. I'm there∣fore put upon the old necessity to transcribe it for him, that the World may see what this honest Gentleman wou'd pass upon them as well as me, for Pro∣phane, had he as long a Sword in his Hand as the Pope has in his.

Bull's words are these. I most * 1.12 humbly thank your Honours; and I hope, since it has been my Lot to join you in the Holy Bands of Wedlock, you will so cultivate the Soil, which I have crav'd a Blessing on, that your Children may swarm about you, like Bees about a Honey-comb. These are the words he calls horribly Smutty and Prophane.

The next Quarrel's about I don't know what; nor can light of any body that can tell me. He says, Young Fashion's desiring Mr. Bull to make haste to Sir Tunbelly; He answers him very decently, I fly * 1.13 my good Lord. What this Gentle∣man means by this Quotation, I can't imagine; but I can answer for t'other Gentleman, he only meant he'd make haste.

He quotes Two or Three Sen∣tences more of Bull's, which are just as Prophane as the rest: He

concludes, That the Chaplain has a great deal of heavy Stuff upon his hands; and his chief Quarrel to me here is, That I have not made him a Wit.

I ask pardon, that I cou'd sup∣pose a Deputy-Lieutenant's Chap∣lain cou'd be a Blockhead; but I thought, if there was such a thing, he was as likely to be met with in Sir Tunbelly's House, as any where. If ever I write the Cha∣racter of a Gentleman where a Chaplain like Mr. Collier is to have the Direction of the Family, I'll endeavour to give him more Sense, that I may qualify him for more Mischief.

He has now left lashing me in particular, and I only have my share in his general Stroke upon all such sinful Wretches, who at∣tack * 1.14 Religion under every Form, and pursue the Priesthood through all the

Subdivisions of Opinion. He says, Neither Jews nor Heathens, Turks nor Christians, Rome nor Geneva, Church nor Conventicle, can escape us. And we say, They'll all escape us, if he can defend 'em. Priest or Presbyter, Pope or Calvin, Mufti or Brammen, Ambassador from God, or Envoy from the Devil, if they have but their Cre∣dentials from t'other World, they are (with him) all Brothers of the Sacred String; there's no more Discord than is necessary to make up the Harmony; and if a Poet does but touch the worst Instru∣ment they play upon, the Holy Consort of Religion and Mora∣lity, he'll tell you, is quite out of Tune.

Thus violently does his Zeal to the Priesthood run away with him: Some Clergyman, methinks, should help to stop him; and I

almost persuade my self there will: There is still in the Gown of the Church of England a very great Number of Men, both Learned, Wise, and Good, who thoroughly understand Religion, and truly love it: From amongst these I flatter my self some Hero will start up, and with the naked Virtue of an Old Generous Ro∣man, appear a Patriot for Religion indeed; with a Trumpet before him proclaim the Secrets of the Cloyster, and by discovering the Disease, guide the World to the Cure on't.

He may shew (if he pleases), That the Contempt of the Cler∣gy proceeds from another kind of Want, than that of Power and Revenue: That Piety and Learn∣ing, Charity and Humility, with so visible a Neglect of the Things of this Life, that no one can

doubt their Expectations from another; is the way to be believ'd in their Doctrine, follow'd in their Precepts, and (by a most infal∣lible Consequence) respected in their Function. Religion is not a Cheat, and therefore has no need of Trappings: Its Beauty is in its Nature, and wants no Dress: An Ambassador who comes with Advantagious Proposals, stands in no need of Equipage to procure him Respect. He who teaches Piety and Morality to the World, is so great a Benefactor to Man∣kind, he need never doubt their Thanks, if he does not ask too much of their Money. But here's the Sand, where Religion runs aground, Avarice and Ambition in its Teachers, are the Rocks on which 'tis dash'd to pieces. It, with many weak people, brings the whole matter into doubt. Men

naturally suspect the Foundation of a Project, where the Projector is eager for a larger Contribution than they see is necessary to carry on the Work. But this Case is so plain, there needs nothing to il∣lustrate it. 'Tis the Clergy's In∣vasion into the Temporal Domi∣nion, that has rais'd the Alarm against 'em: It has made their Doctrine suspected, and by con∣sequence, their Persons despis'd. I own I have sometimes doubted whether Pharaoh with all the Hard∣ness of his Heart, wou'd have pur∣su'd the Children of Israel to the Red Sea, as he did, if they had not meddled with the Riches of his Subjects at their parting; but that Action renew'd the Doubts of a Faith so weak as his, and made him, in spight of all the Miracles he had seen, question whether Moses had his Commission from

God. He paid indeed for his In∣fidelity, as others may happen to do upon a parallel Mistake, I wish none have don't already: But I'm afraid those very Instances Mr. Collier gives us of the Gran∣deur of the Clergy, are the things that have destroy'd both them and their Flocks.

They owe their Fall to their Ambition; their soaring so high has melted their Wings; in a word, had they never been so great, they had never been so lit∣tle. But lest I shou'd be mista∣ken, and make my self Enemies of Men I am no Enemy to, I must declare, my Thoughts are got to Rome, while I am talking thus of the Clergy; for the Charge is in no measure so heavy at home. The Reformation has reduc'd things to a tolerable Medium; and I believe what Quarrel we

have to our Clergy here, points more at the Conduct of some, than the Establishment of the whole. I wish it may never go farther, and I believe it won't, if those who I don't question are still by much the Majority, will to so good an End (as the curbing their Ambitious Brethren, and re∣forming their Lewd ones) for once make a League with the Wicked, and agree, That whilst They play their Great Artillery at 'em from the Pulpit, the Poets shall pelt 'em with their Small Shot from the Stage. But since Mr. Col∣lier is violently bent against this, I'll tell him why I am for it. And 'tis,

Because he has put me in mind, in the first Words of his Book, That the Business of Plays, is to recommend Virtue and discountenance Vice: To shew the Uncertainty of

Human Greatness; the sudden Turns of Fate, and the unhappy Conclusi∣ons of Violence and Injustice: That 'tis to expose the Singularities of Pride and Fancy; to make Folly and Falshood contemptible, and to bring every thing that is ill, under Infamy and Neglect.

The next Chapter is upon the Encouragement of Immorality by the Stage: And here Constant is fallen upon, for pretending to be a Fine Gentleman, without living up to the Exact Rules of Religi∣on. If Mr. Collier excludes every one from that Character, that does not, I doubt he'll have a more general Quarrel to make up with the Gentlemen of England, than I have with the Lords, tho' he tells 'em I have highly affront∣ed 'em.

But I wou'd fain know after all, upon what foundation he lays so

positive a Position, That Constant is my Model for a Fine Gentle∣man; and that he is brought up∣on the Stage for Imitation.

He might as well say, if I brought His Character upon the Stage, I design'd it a Model to the Clergy: And yet I believe most People wou'd take it t'other way. O, but these kind of Fine Gentlemen, he says, are always prosperous in their Undertakings, and their Vice under no kind of Detection; for in the Fifth Act of the Play, they are usually re∣warded with a Wife or a Mistress. And suppose I shou'd reward him with a Bishoprick in the Fifth Act, wou'd that mend his Character? I have too great a Veneration for the Clergy, to believe that wou'd make 'em follow his steps. And yet (with all due Respect to the Ladies) take one Amour with

another, the Bishoprick may prove as weighty a Reward as a Wife or a Mistress either. He says, Mr. Bull was abus'd upon the Stage, yet he got a Wife and a Benefice too. Poor Constant has neither, nay, he has not got even his Mistress yet, he had not, at least, when the Play was last Acted. But this honest Doctor, I find, does not yet understand the Nature of Co∣medy, tho' he has made it his Study so long. For the Business of Comedy is to shew People what they shou'd do, by repre∣senting them upon the Stage, do∣ing what they shou'd not. Nor is there any necessity a Philosopher shou'd stand by, like an Interpre∣ter at a Poppet-show, to explain the Moral to the Audience: The Mystery is seldom so deep, but the Pit and Boxes can dive into it; and 'tis their Example out of the

Play-house, that chiefly influences the Galleries. The Stage is a Glass for the World to view it self in; People ought therefore to see themselves as they are; if it makes their Faces too Fair, they won't know they are Dirty, and by con∣sequence will neglect to wash 'em: If therefore I have shew'd Constant upon the Stage, what generally the Thing call'd a Fine Gentleman is off on't, I think I have done what I shou'd do. I have laid open his Vices as well as his Vir∣tues: 'Tis the Business of the Au∣dience to observe where his Flaws lessen his Value; and by consi∣dering the Deformity of his Ble∣mishes, become sensible how much a Finer Thing he wou'd be without 'em. But after all, Con∣stant says nothing to justify the Life he leads, except where he's pleading with Lady Brute to de∣bauch

her; and sure no body will suppose him there to be speaking much of his Mind. Besides, his Mistress in all her Answers makes the Audience observe the Fallacy of his Arguments. And I think Young Ladies may without much Penetration make this use of the Dialogue, That they are not to take all for Gospel, Men tell 'em upon such occasions.

The Provok'd Wife is charg'd with nothing more, except Bellin∣da for declaring she'd be glad of a Gallant, and Lady Brute for saying, Virtue's an Ass, and a Gal∣lant's worth forty on't.

I need make no other Defence for the Ladies, than I have alrea∣dy done for the Gentlemen, the Case being much the same. How∣ever, to shew how unfair an Ad∣versary I have to deal with, I must acquaint the Reader, That Bellin∣da

only says, If her Pride shou'd make her marry a Man she hated, her Virtue wou'd be in danger from the Man she lov'd. Now her Reflecti∣on upon this, I take to be a useful Caution both to Mothers and Daughters (who think Chastity a Virtue) to consider something in their Matches, besides a Page and a Coronet.

Lady Brute's Words are fairly recited, but wrongly apply'd: Mr. Collier's mistaken; 'tis not Virtue she exposes, but her self, when she says 'em: Nor is it me he exposes, but himself, when he quotes 'em.

He gives me no farther occa∣sion to mention the Provok'd Wife, I'll therefore take this to make an Observation or two upon the Mo∣ral of it, it being upon that ac∣count he has call'd it in question,

and endeavour'd to make it pass for a Play that has none.

This Play was writ many years ago, and when I was very young; if therefore there had been some small Flaws in the Moral, I might have been excus'd for the Writing, tho' liable to some Blame for the Publishing it. But I hope it is not so loose, but I may be par∣don'd for Both, whether Mr. Col∣lier sets his Seal to't or not.

As for Sir Iohn Brute, I think there are an Infinity of Husbands who have a very great share of his Vices: And I think his Busi∣ness throughout the Play, is a vi∣sible Burlesque upon his Chara∣cter. 'Tis this Gentleman that gives the Spring to the rest of the Adventures: And tho' I own there is no mighty Plot in the whole matter, yet what there is, tends to the Reformation of Manners.

For besides the hateful Idea his Figure needs must give of his Character, the ill Consequence of his Brutality appears in the Miscarriage of his Wife: For tho' his ill usage of her does not justify her Intrigue, her intriguing upon his ill usage, may be a Caution for some. I don't find our Wo∣men in England have much of the Muscovite Temper in 'em: If you'll make 'em think you are their Friend, you must give 'em softer strokes of your Kindness; if you don't, the Gallant has a dange∣rous Plea, and such a one as, I doubt, has carri'd many a Cause. Religion, I own, (when a Wo∣man has it) is a very great Bul∣wark for her Husband's Security: And so is Modesty, and so is Fear, and so is Pride; and yet all are little enough, if the Gallant has a Friend in the Garison. I there∣fore

think That Play has a very good End, which puts the Go∣vernor in mind, let his Soldiers be ever so good, 'tis possible he may provoke 'em to a Mutiny.

The rest of the Characters, as they have no very great good, so they have very little mischief in 'em. Lady Fanciful is ridicul'd for her Vanity and her Affectation. Mademoiselle brings to mind what may often be expected from a Sui∣vante of her Countrey. Heartfree is catch'd for his extravagant Rail∣ing at Womankind: And Constant gives himself a great deal of trou∣ble, for a thing that is not worth his Pains. In short, they are most of 'em busy about what they shou'd not be; and those who observe they are so, may take warning to employ their time bet∣ter.

I have nothing more to answer for in this Chapter, but making the Women speak against their own Sex: And having the Pre∣sumption to bring a Fop upon the Stage with the Title of a Lord.

This is a bungling Piece of Po∣licy, to make the Women and the Nobility take up Arms in his Quar∣rel. I'm asham'd a Churchman shou'd spin his Mischief no finer: The Sollicitors to the Holy War had almost as good a Plea. But he had one Consideration farther in this: He remember'd he had positively declar'd, Let a Clergy∣man be guilty of what Crimes he wou'd, he was God's Ambassador, and therefore a Privileg'd Person, whom the Poets ought never to take into Custody. This, upon second thoughts, he found wou'd hardly go down, if he monopo∣liz'd the Privilege to them alone;

and so lest the Company shou'd bring their Charter to a Dispute, he has open'd the Books for New Subscriptions; the Lords and the Ladies are invited to come in; the Gentlemen, I suppose, may do so too, if they please; and, in short, rather than the Committee of Re∣ligion shall be expos'd for their Faults, all Mankind shall be ad∣mitted to Trade in Sin as they please.

But I dare answer for the Laity, of what Quality soever they may be, they are willing their Vices shou'd be scourg'd upon the Stage; at least, I never yet heard one of 'em declare the contrary. If the Clergy insist upon being exempted by themselves, I believe they may obtain it: But I'm apt to fancy, if they protect their Loose Livers from being expos'd in the Play-house, they'll find 'em

grow the bolder to expose them∣selves in the Streets. A Clergy∣man is not in any Countrey ex∣empted from the Gallows: And Mr. Collier has seen one of his Brethren peep through a worse Place than a Garret-Window: Nay, (in a Reign he reckons a Just One) amble through the Town at the Tayl of a Cart, with his Sins in Red Letters upon his Shoulders. A Hangman then may jerk him; Why not a Poet? Perhaps 'tis fear'd he might give him more Sensible Strokes.

I am now come to thank the Gentleman for the last of his Fa∣vours; in which he is so generous to bestow a Chapter entire upon me.

I'm extremely oblig'd to him for it, since 'tis more than ever he promis'd me; For in the Title of his Book, he designs to Correct

the Stage only for the Immorality and Prophaneness of it. And in∣deed I think that was all his busi∣ness with't. But he has since con∣sider'd better of the matter, and rather than quit his hold, falls a Criticizing upon Plots, Characters, Words, Dialogue, &c. even to telling us, when our fine Gentle∣men make Love in the prevail∣ing Strein, and when not. This gives us a farther view of his Stu∣dies; but, I think, if he kept to his Text, he had given us a bet∣ter View of a Clergyman.

It may, perhaps, be expected I shou'd say more in answer to this Chapter, than to all that has gone before it; the Sense of the Play being attack'd here, much more than the Moral, which those who will take Mr. Collier's word for my Principles, must believe I am least concern'd for. But I shall

satisfy 'em of the contrary, by leaving the Sense to answer for it self if it can: I'll only say this for't in general; That it looks as if a Play were not overloaded with Blunders, when so Pains-taking a Corrector is reduc'd to the wretch∣ed necessity of spending his Satyr upon Fire and Flames, being in the same Line; and Arms twice in the same Speech, though at six lines distance one from t'other. This looks as if the Critick were rather duller than the Poet: But when men fight in a Passion, 'tis usual to make insignificant Thrusts; most of his are so wide, they need no parrying; and those that hit, are so weak, they make no Wound.

I don't pretend however to have observ'd the nicety of Rule in this Play; I writ it in as much haste (though not in so much fu∣ry)

as he has done his Remarks upon't; 'Tis therefore possible I may have made as many foolish Mistakes.

I cou'd however say a great deal against the too exact obser∣vance of what's call'd the Rules of the Stage, and the crowding a Co∣medy with a great deal of Intri∣cate Plot. I believe I cou'd shew, that the chief entertainment, as well as the Moral, lies much more in the Characters and the Dialogue, than in the Business and the Event. And I can assure Mr. Collier, if I wou'd have weakned the Diversion, I cou'd have avoided all his Objections, and have been at the expence of much less pains than I have: And this is all the Answer I shall make to 'em, except what tumbles in my way, as I'm observing the foul play he shews me, in setting

the Relapse in so wrong a Light as he does, at his opening of the Fable on't.

In the first Page of his Remarks upon this Play, he says I have given it a wrong Title; The Re∣lapse, or Vertue in Danger, rela∣ting only to Loveless and Amanda, who are Characters of an Inferior Consideration; and that the Younger Brother, or the Fortunate Cheat had been much more pro∣per; because Young Fashion is, without competition, the principal Person in the Comedy.

In reading this Gentleman's Book, I have been often at loss to know when he's playing the Knave, and when he's playing the Fool; nor can I decide which he's at now. But this I'm sure, Young Fashion is no more the Principal Person of the Play, than He's the best Character in

the Church; nor has he any rea∣son to suppose him so, but because he brings up the Rear of the most insignificant part of the Play, and happens to be the Bridegroom in the close on't.

I won't say any thing here irre∣verently of Matrimony, because à la Françoise Bigottry runs high, and by all I see, we are in a fair way to make a Sacrament on't a∣gain. But this I may say, That I had full as much respect for Young Fashion, while he was a Batchellor, and yet I think while he was so, Loveless had a part, that from Peo∣ple who desire to be the better for Plays, might draw a little more Attention. In short; My Lord Fopington, and the Bridegroom, and the Bride, and the Iustice, and the Matchmaker, and the Nurse, and the Parson at the rear of 'em, are the Inferior Persons of the Play (I

mean as to their business) and what they do, is more to divert the Audience, by something par∣ticular and whimsical in their Hu∣mours, than to instruct 'em in any thing that may be drawn from their Morals; though several use∣ful things may in passing be pickt up from 'em too.

This is as distinct from the main intention of the Play, as the busi∣ness of Gomez is in the Spanish Fryar. I shan't here enter into the Contest, whether it be right to have two di∣stinct Designs in one Play; I'll on∣ly say, I think when there are so, if they are both entertaining, then 'tis right; if they are not, 'tis wrong. But the Dispute here is, Where lies the principal business in the Relapse? Mr. Collier decides it roundly for the Wedding-house, because there's best Chear; his Pa∣tron, Sir Tunbelly, has got a good

Venison-Pasty for him, and such a Tankard of Ale, as has made him quite forget the Moral Refle∣ctions he shou'd have made upon the Disorders that are slipt into Loveless's House, by his being too positive in his own strength, and forgetting, that Lead us not into Temptation, is a Petition in our Prayers, which was thought fit to be tackt to that for our daily Bread.

And here my Design was such, I little thought it wou'd ever have been Ridicul'd by a Clergyman. 'Twas in few words this.

I observ'd in a Play, call'd Love's last Shift, or the Fool in Fashion, a Debauche pay so dear for his Lewd∣ness, and his Folly, as from a plen∣tiful Fortune, and a Creditable E∣stablishment in the World, to be reduc'd by his Extravagance to want even the Common Supports of Life.

In this Distress, Providence (I ask Mr. Collier's pardon for using the word) by an unexpected turn in his favour, restores him to Peace and Plenty: And there is that in the manner of doing it, and the In∣strument that brings it to pass, as must necessarily give him the most sensible View, both of his Misery past, from the Looseness of his Life; and his Happiness to come, in the Reform of it. In the close of the Play, he's left throughly convinc'd it must therefore be done, and as fully determin'd to do it.

For my part, I thought him so undisputably in the right; and he appear'd to me to be got into so agreeable a Tract of Life, that I often took a pleasure to indulge a musing Fancy, and suppose my self in his place. The Happiness I saw him possest of, I lookt upon as

a Jewel of a very great worth, which naturally lead me to the fear of losing it; I therefore con∣sider'd by what Enemies 'twas most likely to be attack'd, and that dire∣cted me in the Plan of the Works that were most probable to defend it. I saw but one danger in Soli∣tude and Retirement, and I saw a thousand in the bustle of the World; I therefore in a mo∣ment determin'd for the Countrey, and suppos'd Lovelace and Amanda gone out of Town.

I found these Reflections of some service to my self, and so (being drawn into the folly of wri∣ting a Play) I resolv'd the Town shou'd share 'em with me. But it seems they are so little to Mr. Col∣lier's Taste, he'll neither eat the Meat himself, nor say Grace to't for any body else. I'll try however if

the following Account will recom∣mend it to him.

Loveless and his Wife appear in the start of the Play, happy in their Retirement, and in all Human Prospect, likely to continue so, if they continue where they are. As for Amanda, she's so pleas'd with her Solitude, she desires never to leave it; and the Adventures that happen upon her being forc'd to it, may caution a Husband (if he pleases) against being so very im∣portunate to bring his Wife (how vertuous soever) into the way of Mischief, when she her self is con∣tent to keep out of it.

Loveless, He's so thoroughly wean'd from the taste of his De∣bauches, he has not a thought to∣ward the Stage where they us'd to be acted. 'Tis Business, not Plea∣sure, brings him thither again, and his Wife can't persuade him

there's the least danger of a Re∣lapse; He's proud to think on what a Rock his Reformation is built, and resolves She her self shall be a Witness, That though the Winds blow, and the Billows roar, yet nothing can prevail a∣gainst it.

To Town in short they come, and Temptation's set at defi∣ance. Lead us not into it, is a Request he has no farther occa∣sion for. The first place he tries his Strength, is where he us'd to be the most sensible of his Weak∣ness.

He cou'd resist no Woman heretofore; He'll now shew he can stand a Battalion of 'em; so to the Play-house he goes, and with a smile of contempt looks cooly into the Boxes. But Be∣rinthia is there to chastise his Pre∣sumption: He discovers her Beau∣ty,

but despises her Charms; and is fond of himself, that so un∣mov'd he can consider 'em. He finds a Pleasure indeed, in view∣ing the Curiosity, but 'tis only to contemplate the Skill of the Contriver. As for Desire, he's satisfy'd he has none; let the Symptoms be what they will, he's free from the Disease; he may gaze upon the Lady till he grows a Statue in the Place, but he's sure he's in love with none but his Wife. Home he comes, and gives her an account of what he had seen; she's alarm'd at the Story, and looks back to her Retirement: He blames her Suspicion, and all's silent again. When Fate (here's Blasphemy again) so disposes things, that the Temptation's brought home to his Door, and his Wife has the misfortune to in∣vite it into her House. In short;

Berinthia becomes one of the Fa∣mily: She's Beautiful in her Per∣son, Gay in her Temper, Co∣quet in her Behaviour, and Warm in her Desires. In a word, The Battery is so near, there's no standing the Shot, Constancy's beaten down; the Breach is made, Resolution gives ground, and the Town's taken.

This I design'd for a natural Instance of the Frailty of Man∣kind, even in his most fixt Deter∣minations; and for a mark up∣on the defect of the most steady Resolve, without that necessary Guard, of keeping out of Tem∣ptation. But I had still a farther end in Loveless's Relapse, and in∣deed much the same with that in the Provok'd Wife, though in dif∣ferent kind of Characters; these latter being a little more refin'd,

which places the Moral in a more reasonable, and I think a more agreeable View. There; The Pro∣vocation is from a Brute, and by consequence cannot be sup∣pos'd to sting a Woman so much, as if it had come from a more Reasonable Creature; the Lady therefore that gives her self a Loose upon it, cou'd not naturally be represented the best of her Sex. Virtuous (upon some ground or other) there was a Necessity of making her; but it appears by a Strain of Levity that runs through her Discourse, she ow'd it more to Form, or Apprehension, or at best to some few Notions of Gra∣titude to her Husband, for taking her with an Inferior Fortune, than to any Principle of Religion, or an extraordinary Modesty. 'Twas therefore not extremely to be won∣dred at, that when her Husband

made her House uneasy to her at home, she shou'd be prevail'd with to accept of some Diversi∣ons abroad. However, since she was Regular while he was kind, the Fable may be a useful Admo∣nition to Men who have Wives, and wou'd keep 'em to them∣selves, not to build their Security so entirely upon their Ladies Prin∣ciples, as to venture to pull from under her all the Political Props of her Virtue.

But in the Adventures of Love∣less and Amanda, the Caution is carri'd farther. Here's a Woman whose Virtue is rais'd upon the ut∣most Strength of Foundation: Religion, Modesty, and Love, de∣fend it. It looks so Sacred, one wou'd think no Mortal durst ap∣proach it; and seems so fix'd, one wou'd believe no Engine cou'd shake it: Yet loosen one Stone,

the Weather works in, and the Structure molders apace to decay. She discovers her Husband's return to his Inconstancy. The unsteadi∣ness of his Love gives her a Con∣tempt of his Person; and what lessens her Opinion, declines her Inclination. As her Passion for him is abated, that against him's inflam'd; and as her Anger increa∣ses, her Reason's confus'd: Her Judgment in disorder, her Religi∣on's unhing'd; and that Fence being broken, she lies widely ex∣pos'd: Worthy's too sensible of the Advantage, to let slip the Occasi∣on: He has Intelligence of the Vacancy, and puts in for the Place.

Poor Amanda's persuaded he's only to be her Friend, and that all he asks, is to be admitted as a Com∣forter in her Afflictions. But when People are sick, they are so fond of a Cordial, that when they get it to

their Nose, they are apt to take too much on't.

She finds in his Company such a Relief to her Pain, she desires the Physician may be always in her sight. She grows pleas'd with his Person as well as his Advice, yet she's sure he can never put her Virtue in Danger. But she might have remembred her Husband was once of the same Opinion; and have taken warning from him, as the Audience, I intended, shou'd do from 'em both.

This was the Design of the Play; which I think is something of so much greater Importance than Young Fashion's marrying Miss Hoyden, that if I had call'd it the Younger Brother, or the Fortunate Cheat, instead of the Relapse, or Virtue in danger, I had been just as much in the wrong, as Mr. Collier is now.

His reason, I remember, why Loveless can't be reckon'd a Prin∣cipal Part, is, Because he sinks in the Fourth Act. But I can tell him, If the Play had sunk in the Fourth Act too, it had been better than 'tis, by just Twenty per Cent. However, tho' Loveless's Affair is brought about in the Fourth Act, Amanda's last Adventure is towards the End of the Fifth. But this is only a Cavil from the Formality of the Criticks; which is always well broken into, if the Diversion's increas'd by't, and Nature not turn'd Top-side-turvy. If there∣fore nothing but the Criticks (I mean such as Mr. Collier) find themselves shock'd by the Disor∣ders of this Play, I think I need trouble my self as little to justify what's past, as I own I shou'd to mend it, in any thing to come; had I thoughts of medling any

more with the Stage. But to draw to an End.

I have reserv'd for the Close of this Paper, one Observation (a home one I think) upon the Un∣fair Dealing of this Reverend Gentleman; which shews at once the Rancor of his Venom, the Stretch of his Injustice, and by a Moral Consequence, I think, the Extremity of his Folly: For sure there cannot be a greater, than for a Man of his Coat, at the very Instant he's declaiming against the Crimes of the Age, to lay him∣self so open, to be hit in the most Immoral Blot of Life, which that of Slander undisputably is.

To Explain. I beg the Reader will bestow one Moments Reflecti∣on upon the Pains he has taken to make Young Fashion and his Affair pass for the Principal Concern of the Comedy; which he only has

done, in hopes to sink the useful Moral of the Play, which he knew lay in t'other part of it, and wou'd unavoidably have ap∣pear'd in Judgment against his Re∣flections upon the whole, if he had not taken this way to stifle the Evidence: He therefore carries on the Imposture to that degree, as at last to slubber over the Conclu∣sive Scene between Worthy and Amanda, as if there were no Mean∣ing of Importance in it. Nay, his Rage is so great (to find the Stamp of Immorality he wou'd fain have fix'd upon this Play, so cleanly wash'd off by the Close of this Scene) that he cares not what Folly he commits: And therefore in his Heats, rather than commend it for the Alarm it gives to Lewdness, by Worthy's Reflecti∣ons upon Amanda's Refusal, he turns him into Ridicule for an

Insipid Platonick: By which we may guess, had he been in the Fine Gentleman's Place, the Lady wou'd not have 'scap'd as she did. I'll repeat Worthy's Words, with the Doctor's use of 'em, and so have done.

Sure there's Divinity about her, * 1.15 and sh'as dispenc'd some Portion on't to me: For what but now was the Wild Flame of Love, or (to dissect that specious Term) the vile, the gross Desires of Flesh and Blood, is in a Moment turn'd to Adoration: The courser Appetite of Nature's gone, and 'tis methinks the Food of Angels I require. How long this Influence may last, Heaven knows: But in this Moment of my Purity, I cou'd on her Own Terms accept her Heart. Yes, Lovely Woman, I can accept it, for now 'tis doubly worth my Care: Your Charms are much increas'd since thus adorn'd: When Truth's ex∣torted

from us, then we own the Robe of Virtue is a Graceful Habit.

Cou'd Women but our secret Councils scan; Cou'd they but reach the deep Reserves of Man; They'd wear it on, that that of Love might last: For when they throw off one, we soon the other cast. Their Sympathy is such— The Fate of one, the other scarce can fly, They live together, and together dye.

This Reflection Worthy makes to himself, upon Amanda's having Virtue enough to resist him, when he plainly saw she lay under a pressing Temptation.

Now when 'tis consider'd, That upon the Stage the Person who speaks in a Soliloquy is always

suppos'd to deliver his real Thoughts to the Audience: I think it must be granted, there never was a homer Check given to the Lewdness of Women in any Play whatsoever. For what in Nature can touch 'em nearer, than to see a man, after all the Pains he has taken, and the Eager Argu∣ments he has us'd, lay open his Heart, and frankly confess, had he gain'd his Mistress, she had lost her Gallant.

This I thought was a Turn so little suited to Comedy, that I confess I was afraid the Rigor of the Moral wou'd have damn'd the Play. But it seems every body cou'd relish it but a Clergyman. Mr. Collier's Words are these:

Amanda continues obstinate, and * 1.16 is not in the usual Humour of the Stage: Upon this, like a well-bred Lover he seizes her by force, and

threatens to kill her: (By the way, this Purblind Divine might have seen 'twas himself, not his Mistress, he threatned.) In this Rencounter the Lady proves too nimble, and slips through his Fingers. Upon this Dis∣appointment he cries, There's Di∣vinity about her, and she has dispens'd some Portion on't to me. His Passion is metamorphos'd in the turn of a hand: He's refin'd into a Platonick Admirer, and goes off as like a Town-Spark as you wou'd wish. And so much for the Poet's Fine Gen∣tleman.

The World may see by this, what a Contempt the Doctor has for a Spark that can make no bet∣ter use of his Mistress, than to ad∣mire her for her Virtue. This methinks is something so very ex∣traordinary in a Clergyman, that I almost fancy when He and I are fast asleep in our Graves, those who

shall read what we both have pro∣duc'd, will be apt to conclude there's a Mistake in the Tradition about the Authors; and that 'twas the Reforming Divine writ the Play, and the Scandalous Poet the Remarks upon't.

FINIS.

Notes

• * 1.1

  P. 10.
• * 1.2

  P. 35.
• * 1.3

  P. 77.
• * 1.4

  Pro. W. p. 78.
• * 1.5

  P. 78.
• * 1.6

  Relapse, p. 23, 33.
• * 1.7

  Relapse, p. 51.
• * 1.8

  Relapse, p. 96.
• * 1.9

  P. 80.
• * 1.10

  Relapse, p. 91.
• * 1.11

  Prov. Wife, p. 3.
• * 1.12

  Relapse, p. 74.
• * 1.13

  Relapse, p. 75.
• * 1.14

  P.
• * 1.15

  Relapse, p. 100.
• * 1.16

  P. 227.