ARTHUR MURPHY’S THEATRICAI.
CRITICISM:
A CRITICAL EDITION

Thesis for the Degree of Ph. D.
MICHIGAN STATE UNIVERSITY
ROBERT G. KEESEY
1969

THESIQ

IIIT‘I IIIIIII III

This is to certify that the

thesis entitled

ARTHUR MURPHY'S 'IHEATRICAL CRITICISM:
A CRITICAL EDITION

presented by

Robert G. Keesey

has been accepted towards fulfillment
of the requirements for

ELL degree in Juglile

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ABSTRACT

   
  
   
  
 
  
  
  
  
  

ARTHUR MURPHY'S THEATRICAL CRITICISM:
A CRITICAL EDITION

BY

Robert G. Keesey

{Hhronicle during the years 1757-58. These pieces
fIbeen considered the best sustained series of theatri—
‘Rériticisms produced in the eighteenth century, but

:779ublication in a tri—weekly newspaper and the

‘ bible to the student of the London theatre of this

w rSince these essays have received little critical

‘Ifo the sixty unsigned or pseudonymously
Tiductory letters and reviews that appeared in

ronicle of 1757- -58 have been claimed for

 

Robert G. Keesey

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
 
 
   
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

Why one scholar or another. The attribution study
sgthat only the "Tragicomicus" letter of Jan. 18-20,
éAR§T§”the thirty-seven essays entitled The Theatre run-
ting-from Jan. 20-22 to April 14-16, 1757, the "Atticus"
gbfltter of Nov. 18-21, 1758, the unnumbered Theatre

0

.fivvlumn signed “Atticus” of Dec. 2-5, 1758, and the un-
. ;§hmbered and unsigned Theatre papers of Dec. 7-9, 9-12,
#719 -2 1, 1758, can be ascribed to Murphy. The study adds
Ebew external evidence connecting Murphy' 5 Gray's-Inn
g lgggarna , No. 8 (1754) with Theatres No. 16 and 17 of the
Ijh‘gpring of 1757, and new internal evidence demonstrating
1_ difigt the initial thirty- seven essays were the work of a
1i“agile writer, to the already substantial body of evi-
gkmwe for Murphy' 5 authorship of the first and most im-
37tant series of Theatre papers. Based on the critical
itions taken by Murphy in writings that preceded and
ibied the‘Chronicle essays, and on those taken in the
i:t-I'series of reviews, it argues that except for the
5:: five papers of 1758 for which there is strong ex-

i, levidence supporting ascription to Murphy, the

';_The examination of Murphy's critical premises

Lta’place his ideas in the shifting milieu mid

Robert G. Keesey

 

reader with Murphy's particular concepts of the ambiguous
terms such as nature, taste, genius, etc., that dominated
the criticism of this era. The study reveals that al-
though Murphy was not a theoretical critic in the sense
of one who devotes works to the systematic exposition of
critical problems, when his total canon is taken into
consideration, he at one time or another dealt with the
major critical issues of the period. And though having
little merit as a theorist in his own right, most of his
views generally being derivative, his constant interest
in theoretical matters gave a solid foundation to his
practical criticism. Hence, unlike many periodical
critics, when Murphy used the conventional terms he had
definite ideas in mind, and, as much as is practicable,
his appeal was always to precedent, to premises about
the nature and ends of his subject, to aesthetic norms,
rather than to personal impressions or individual taste

as the basis of criticism.

ARTHUR MURPHY'S THEATRICAL CRITICISM:

A CRITICAL EDITION

BY

Robert G. Keesey

A THESIS

Submitted to
Michigan State University
in partial fulfillment of the requirements
for the degree of

DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

Department of English

1969

 

 

   

    
 
 
   
  
   
 
  
  
 
 
 
 
    
   

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

, ,~ To the Michigan State, Michigan, and Yale Univer-
,«gesfiy Libraries I owe thanks for the use of their facili-
.¢§§e§) to Dr. R. S. Wilkinson and Mrs. Caroline Blunt of
:fl'fighekuichigan State University Special Collections I owe
.711 gsjparticular debt for their unfailing courtesy and per-

J £§§h§l assistance in making the resources of this Division

4 .fi
" lggfigilable to me. To Professors Elwood P. Lawrence and

s.

’.9 University. Professor John A.Yunck graciously gave

1 time and advice to this dissertation when he had no
giRis dyer his standard. To Professors Howard P. Ander-

ybrk through its several stages. Their criticisms
, Einvariably helpful, and the kindness with which they
itenaered is deeply appreciated. My greatest debt,
fikfiéwhiCh_this note is but meager recompense, is to

 

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Page
INTRODUCTION
I. RATIONALE, BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, AND
THE THEATRICAL MILIEU OF THE 1750's . . . . 1
II. MURPHY'S CRITICAL PREMISES . . . . . . . . 28
III. INTRODUCTION TO THE TEXT . . . . . . . . . 100
TEXT
"TRAGICOMICUS" LETTER OF JAN. 18-20, 1757;
APRIL 14-16, 1757; THE THEATRE, DEC. 7-9,
9-12, 1.9-le 1758 I I I I I I I I I I I I 134
APPENDIX A
IATTICUS" LETTER OF NOVEMBER 18—21, 1758,
AND THE THEATRE, DEC. 2-5, 1758 . . . . . . 349
APPENDIX B
LIST OF ALL THEATRE PAPERS AND INTRODUCTORY
LETTERS APPEARING IN THE 1757-58 LONDON
CHRONICLE I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I 360
LIST OF WORKS CITED I I I I I I I I I I I I I I I 363

  
   
    
   
 
   
   

RATIONALE, BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, AND THE
THEATRICAL MILIEU OF THE 1750's

In the London Chronicle, a tri-weekly newspaper

. €T7vded in 1757, there appeared intermittently during the
- LLB 1757 and 1758 a number of unsigned theatrical criti-
3:15 under the title, THE THEATRE. Most of the fifty-
;rtfipieces that appeared under this heading have been
fihuted, by various scholars, to Arthur Murphy. More

“jthirty years ago, Charles Harold Gray, in what con-

t Important theatrical criticisms written for a regu-
"5 Fv‘.

néwspaper," and found them to "rank with the work of

‘ter-critics, like Leigh Hunt and William Hazlitt,

 

 

u
",.;.-,

.v,

j
i
‘-.

 

    
   
  
  
 
 
   
 
  
 
  
   

galars. Except for the theatrical papers in the Tatler

;the.Spectator, the bulk of this writing remains remote

543“generally inaccessible to the student."2

~E - It was in response to this state of affairs that
figge present edition was undertaken. Its objective is to
‘ififie accessible to the student of the eighteenth-century
“findon theatre an important body of criticism, and to
‘jj: him the time and trouble of looking up relevant

"7 ground information by providing an annotated text.
"A:;§>this criticism has been largely neglected, it was
*;é_ght that a critical introduction containing pertinent
v-raphical and theatrical background, a study of the

I"

rtical premises underlying the essays, a comparison of

ahy9s work with that of his contemporaries, and some

Although the Murphy canon includes a good deal of

Vié-criticism, this edition is concerned only with

 

 

   
  
  
  
  
   
    
  
  
  

'Agéd from theatrical presentation. Since all but

Although he is the subject of two modern bio-
e'2phies, Arthur Murphy has received little critical
ention. For most students of literature, his name
Ties recollections of the Johnson circle; for some, it
";ests a minor eighteenth-century dramatist. Why Mur—
L"171.1515 been so little regarded is a puzzle. Possibly,
iglbecause he did so many different things well, yet
Wgach was overshadowed by the leading figure or figures

Dramatist, critic, actor, essayist, poli-

akthe title, man of letters. Unfortunately, the

   
  
  
   
  
  
   
 
   
  
   
  
  
  
  
  

As a comic dramatist alone, Murphy has been over—
His plays are seldom, if ever, anthologized or

“:§f{{ ied, yet he, along with Foote, Colman, and Garrick,

|‘{§ggan the revival of the Restoration comedy of wit and

-‘ finners-that is usually credited to Goldsmith and Sheri-

Tién. Ernest Bernbaum made this point many years ago:

'Eiéghe drama of the 1750's showed a strong revival of the

' Eéamic spirit. A new group of playwrights--notably Samuel

"'.§@Gte, Arthur Murphy, George Colman--raised comedy, not

‘ igés the high level on which it moved in the days of Van—

"Efifiugh,.but much higher than in the depressing period

igfiégstween 1730 and 1750."4 A. H. Thorndike found Murphy,

E ‘5; Bare loyal follower of the old tradition than either

ifjéhfiman or Garrick," and ranked him with Goldsmith and

' séhgridan as the leading late eighteenth-century proponents

n}§§:“the great tradition that began with Dryden and Etherege

ghad been sadly lapsing after Farquhar."5
H: Though perhaps Sheridan's The School for Scandal

i! e Rivals and Goldsmith's one success, She Stoops to

'{er, may be considered superior to Murphy’s best

 

 

  

  

comedies, The Way to Keep Him, All in the Wrong, and 522!
Your Own Mind, the judgment is a nice one. Certainly
Murphy produced far more popular and consistently good
plays than either. For "sixty years between 1756 and
1815 not one passed in which audiences failed to see a

play or plays by Murphy."6

Professor James Lynch, sur-
veying the repertory of the London theatres between 1737
and 1777, informs us that in an era when a run of nine
or ten nights was considered successful, "More than four
hundred nights during the last sixteen years of the peri-
od were devoted to the plays of Murphy and Colman alone.“7
As a periodical essayist Murphy was more than
competent, and "On Macbeth (8), Shakespeare Vindicated
in a Letter to Voltaire (12), King Lear (16, 17), On
Tragedy (48), On Comedy (49) and On the Burlesque Style

(50) are essays which lift the Gray's-Inn Journal above

 

the general level of its contemporaries."8 A contributor

to, among other periodicals, the Literary Magazine and

 

the Monthly Review, he was the latter's leading drama

critic from 1786 to 1789.

 

6Howard Hunter Dunbar, The Dramatic Career of
Arthur Murphy (New York, 1946), p. 294.

 

7§9x, Pit and Gallery: Stage and Society in
Johnson's London (Berkeley, 1953), p. 28.

 

8Walter Graham, English Literary Periodicals (New
York, 1930), p. 124.

His two political journals, the Test (Nov. 6, 1756-

   
   
    
    

July 9, 1757) and the Auditor (June 10, l762—Feb. 8, 1763)

are important documents in the history of the political
machinations that took place during the Seven Years' War.

Both are well-written, but Murphy's defense of the aristo-
cratic Whig position against that of the popular Pitt,

who was supported by the London trade interests, and his

later defense of the Lord Bute ministry, which was at-
tempting to negotiate an unpopular peace against the wishes

of a merchant class interested in expansion and empire,

’ earned him more enemies than friends.9 The latter exposed him
i to a number of satirical attacks, and the supporters of

John Wilkes, the popular leader of the opposition who had

been prosecuted for his writings in the North Briton, the
anti-ministerial periodical which warred with Murphy's
Auditor, made their presence felt in the playhouse against
Murphy for a good while.10

Murphy's translation of Tacitus (1793) was "the

 

first good English version of the Roman historian and it

remained the standard one for nearly a hundred years."11

 

9SeeR. D. Spector, English Literary Periodicals
and the Climate of Opinion During the Seven Yearsr War

(The Hague, 1966), chaps. 1-4, pasSim.

loDunbar, Murphy, pp. 150-164, passim.

11Ibid., p. 303.

 

   
  
   
   
   
  
 
 
  
   
   
   
   

:E;uBent of the eighteenth-century theatrical world and is
. .éghe best contemporary portrait of the great player. The
f PET say on the Life and Genius of Henry Fielding (1762) ,
riv‘héld in little esteem by modern Fielding scholars, was
:jthe principal biography for almost a century. What is

'r ghfifiten overlooked is that, despite the inaccuracies, sen-
géhntious moral tone, and lack of completeness, Murphy
1 Betended Fielding quite well against the charge of com-
‘Jyaete immorality usually levelled against him in this

leeriod.n

W? But a summary of achievements fails to capture

l '

.n.

. fifie'man. From the perspective of our time he is a minor

43' A-

fifiterary figure, peripheral to the great men of the era.

*SISE the tendency to fuse our literary judgments and our

":n 4'» 41""

EEepts of the historical personage distorts our picture
Etna man in his time. Unless a minor literary figure
ipchieved distinction in another field, we too often
aciously relegate him to the same position, as a

Vet respect and influence in his time, that we assign

 

 

  

 

him on our scale of literary values. Hence, we tend to
view Murphy as another litterateur attending the Great
Cham, Johnson, or as a minor figure in the theatrical
milieu dominated by Garrick and others.

It is easily forgotten that Murphy's portrait
hung at Streatham, the home of the Thrales and the
gathering-place of the Johnson circle, alongside those
of Johnson, Burke, Garrick, and Reynolds, and that he was
regarded as a social and intellectual equal by many of
the outstanding men of his day. Goldsmith dreaded Mur-
phy's wit, which due to Goldsmith's almost neurotic desire
to shine in conversation he was often subjected to, and
on one occasion after Murphy had baited him, not unde-
servedly, Mrs. Thrale recorded the incident and her
feelings: "I could not avoid pitying him [Goldsmith]
when I saw him so humbled under the lash of a man who
though so far superior to him in Friendship, Honour and
every manly Virtue, in Person, Address, and every pleasing
Quality, is not to be compar'd with him as a Writer."13
It is a good indication of the esteem in which Murphy was
held, though it undervalues him as writer--not unexpect-
edly since Mrs. Thrale had little regard for the drama.

It was Murphy who introduced Johnson to the Thrales,

and far from being just another recipient of Johnson's

 

 

13James L. Clifford, Hester Lynch Piozzi (Mrs.
Thrale) (Oxford, 1941), p. 86.

   
  
  
   
  
     
  
  
   
  
 
   
   
    
   

23' Boswell, no great admirer of Murphy, noted, "To
Tfi him [Johnson] and Murphy talk of literature gave me
w;§nusual relish for it; and I perceived there was

- \ , . . .
‘ flpgsfily.any book which in a cr1t1cal mouth might not be

. {ihflde to appear of some worth."14
1‘.
fhnfl Tate Wilkinson claims that Murphy and Samuel

‘ {flhmta were the only theatrical people not in awe of Gar-
,{gfink and who could work the domineering Roscius to their

.‘- l‘ ,0,
;} \‘Hgds: "But Mr. Foote's knowledge of Garrick was super-

‘gsgzfiicial when compared with Mr. Murphy's; for Mr. Murphy's
hngpl and sensible penetration made him a perfect judge
.-‘3 -§£. the whole inward soul of Mr. Garrick. "15 Later, Wil-
, :31nson remarks, "Mr. Garrick, though attached to subordi-
‘9

.y
.0

J‘fiation, was kept in order and decorum himself by our

’ lisesent ingenious writer, Counsellor Murphy."16 The
§¥atements of his peers tell us that Murphy was more in-
f géhnential and respected in his time than modern literary.
‘ Brion might lead us to expect.

Born in Ireland, Dec. 27, 1727, the second son of

1 French and Richard Murphy, a Dublin merchant, Arthur

 

V 3. 14The Private Pa ers of James Boswell, ed. Geoffrey
"and firederick Pottle (Privately printed, 1928- -1934),
1.‘ .

15Memoirs of His OwgiLife (York, 1790), I, 22.

 

 

 

 

 

10

  

Murphy and his brother James (1725) were soon left to

the care of their mother when in 1729 their father died
on a trading voyage.l7 Mrs. Murphy's brother, Jeffrey:
French came to her aid and on his advice she sold the
property in Dublin and in 1735 moved to London, where
French was a merchant. The family was dependent on French
and he promised to establish the boys in business or a
profession. Arthur was soon sent to France to reside
with his maternal aunt, Mrs. Arthur Plunkett, and in 1738
he was enrolled in the English college of the Jesuit mona-
stery at St. Omer, where for the next six years he dis—
tinguished himself as a student of the classics and devel-
oped an interest in the drama and the French critics.

In 1744 he returned to London and for the next
three years, while dwelling with his mother in the Strand,
pursued mercantile studies at Webster's Academy-—apparent1y
at his uncle's direction. Though little enamoured of be—
coming a merchant, he now had the chance to explore London
and under the guidance of his brother James, who had
studied at Westminster School and was soon to enter the

Middle Temple, he was introduced to the coffee-houses,

 

17Unless otherwise noted, for the following bio-
graphical information I am indebted to Murphy's two
modern biographers, John Pike Emery, Arthur Mur h (Phila-
delphia, 1946); Howard Dunbar, Dramatic areer; and to
his contemporary biographer, Jesse Foot, The Life of

Arthur Murphy, E83. (London, 1811).

 

ll

theatres, and a group of young bloods including Beau
Tracy, Thaddeus Fitzpatrick, William Havard, and Samuel

Foote .

 

In 1747 his uncle sent him to Cork as an infor-
mal apprentice to Edmund Harrold, an eminent London
merchant who had an establishment there. But two years
later, when French commanded that he go to Jamaica where
French owned a plantation, Murphy refused and returned
to London. Though tired of the drudgery of the merchant
world, he attempted to regain his uncle's favor by accept-
ing an assistant bookkeeper's position with Ironside and
Belchier, bankers in Lombard Street. But after a year,
when French failed to respond, he quit and plunged whole-
} heartedly into the London literary and theatrical life
L that had long attracted him. Since his return to London,
he had frequented the theatres, coffee—houses and taverns
y where writers and actors gathered and had become acquainted

with many of them. Among these were Charles Macklin,

Samuel Foote, David Garrick, William Collins, and Chris-

) topher Smart, many of whom, along with Murphy, were
members of the Shakespeare Club, a group that met at the
coffee-houses to discuss Shakespeare and literary and
theatrical topics in general.

It was probably at the Bedford Coffee-house,

 

sometime in 1751, that Murphy met Henry Fielding, who was

at this time projecting plans for his Convent-Garden

 

12

   

Journal. And early in 1752, when this periodical actually
began to appear, Fielding took Murphy on as a second
assistant. His job was the humble one of scanning the
London papers for news items and arranging them for the
“Modern History" section of the Journal, but this work
under Fielding was a valuable apprenticeship for Murphy's-
1ater literary endeavours. His contributions to the main
essays seem to have been slight: Emery credits him with
having a hand in Nos. 53, 62, 64, and 65; Sherbo concurs
in No. 62 only, while Dunbar feels there is not sufficient
evidence for attribution. There was an air of excitement
about the Journal during this period, for Fielding was
constantly engaged in verbal warfare with, among others,

i Bonnell Thornton and the notorious John Hill, at this

> time the subject of Smart's satirical Hilliad, which Mur-
. phy contributed to, and a man for whom Murphy bore a
life-long antipathy.l

On October 21, 1752, more than a month before the

 

demise of the Covent—Garden Journal, Murphy became a part-
‘ her with "Charles D'Anvers," of whom virtually nothing is
known, in the publication of a weekly periodical called
) the Craftsman, or New Craftsman. There are no extant

‘copies of this periodical. Using the pseudonym Charles

 

 

18Arthur Sherbo, Christopher Smart: Scholar of
the University (East Lansing, 1967), pp. 91-?2.

 

  

 

 

l3

Ranger, taken from the name of a character in Benjamin
Hoadly's Suspicious Husband, Murphy wrote a weekly essay
in the Craftsman under the rubric Gray's-Inn Journal.
Almost a year later, on September 29, 1753, after forty-
nine issues of the Craftsman, he began to publish the

Gray's-Inn Journal as an independent venture.19 He

 

ceased publication of the Gray's-Inn Journal on September

 

21, 1754, after fifty-two issues, presumably to concen-
trate on his imminent acting career. However, Sherbo
credits him at this time with a periodical entitled, The
Entertainer, which ran from September 3, 1754, weekly
through November 19, 1754, overlapping both the final

issues of the gray's-Inn Journal and Murphy's first ap—
20

 

pearance on the stage.

In format and content the Gray's-Inn Journal was

 

in the periodical tradition of the Spectator, Tatler, and

 

the later Convent-Garden Journal. Like the last, the main

 

essay was followed by a section, in this case entitled
"True Intelligence," containing items of topical inter-
est, often of a theatrical nature. As an admirer of

Addison, many of Murphy's essays, like those in the

 

19For a history of the dating, revisions and
various editions of this periodical see Roland B. Botting,
"The Textual History of Murphy's Gray' s-Inn Journal, " Re-
search Studies of the State College of Wa§hington, XXV—
7 , 33-48.

 

20New Essays, pp. 1-16.

l4

Spectator, were conceived as corrective satire aimed at

 

moral improvement in his readers. He satirized women,
coffee-house clientele, card—playing, the Royal Society,
affected travelers and what he deemed general foibles.
But his particular disposition was toward the theatre
and theatrical life; hence, a number of the essays are
concerned with dramatic criticism. In these he championed
natural acting, opposed pantomimes, and theorized about
comedy and tragedy. By and large, his style was lucid
and entertaining and his contribution to the periodical
essay notable.

' Murphy had little profit from the Gray's-Inn
Journal though it was not a financial failure. He had
hoped to be one of his uncle's heirs, but when French
died in 1754 he left nothing to his nephews. Faced with
debts, a common state for Murphy throughout much of his
life, he was advised by his friend Samuel Foote to try
the stage. Under Foote's tutelage he prepared himself
and was engaged for the 1754-55 season at Convent Garden,
ostensibly as a replacement for Spranger Barry who had
gone to Dublin for the season. On October 18, 1754, Mur-
phy made a successful debut as Othello, a considerable

achievement since it invited comparison with Barry, who

 

    
  
  

was considered the finest Othello of the day. During
the remainder of the season he appeared as Zamor in Aaron

Hill's Alzira, Young Bevil in Steele's The Conscious

15

   

Lovers, Archer in Farquhar's The Beaux' Stratagem, Hamlet,

 

Richard III, and Biron in Southerne's Fatal Marriage.
With the proceeds from his benefit night plus his salary,
he seems to have been able to pay most of his debts.

L In the 1755—56 season he acted under Garrick at
Drury Lane and, besides repeating some roles from the
previous season, played Osmyn in Congreve's The Mourning
Egigg, Horatio in Rowe's Fair Penitent, Gothmund in

’ Brown's Athelstan, Bajazet in Rowe's Tamerlane, and the

} lead in Henry Jones' Earl of Essex. He made few appear-
ances in the latter half of the season, for it seems he
and Garrick were at odds. Though Murphy was a great ad-
mirer of Garrick, the two men clashed a number of times
ih their long relationship. But the season was a finan-
. cial success and after paying debts, Murphy cleared about
r 5400,--a considerable sum at this time. He did not re—
turn to the stage after this season, and in later life
glossed over the fact that he had been an actor. As a
player he seems to have been quite competent; he had an
attractive appearance, good judgment, and a good voice,
but he lacked the power and magnetism of the great

performer.

 

One of the reasons for his financial success in
the 1755-56 season, was the production of his popular
farce, The Apprentice, written in 1753 but first per-

formed Jan. 2, 1756. A satire on spouting clubs, the

 

16

   

gathering places of stage—struck youths, it held the
stage for almost half a century, and the great comedian
Henry Woodward "owned" the role of Dick the apprentice
until his death in 1777. Murphy's farce, The Englishman
from Paris, lost until recently, was performed with lit-
tle success in the spring of 1756.21 For Foote's TEE
Englishman Returned from Paris, utilizing the same plot
which he apparently took from Murphy in conversation,

i beat Murphy's play to the stage by almost three months.

 

I In retaliation, Murphy, in The Spouter; or the Triple
Revenge, a play printed early in 1756 but never meant
to be acted, satirized Foote along with John Hill and
Theophilus Cibber, who at this time was attacking Garrick
in a series of lectures on the drama.

These were productive years for Murphy. In ad-
dition to the three farces, he completed his first

tragedy, The Orphan of China, sometime in 1756 though it

 

was not performed until 1759. He wrote a mock elegy,

l'Elegy Written in a London Churchyard," contributed a

 

review of Athelstan to his friend Smart's Universal

Visiter,22 revised the second edition of his Gray's-Inn

 

21See Simon Trefman, "Arthur Murphy's Long Lost
Englishman from Paris: A Manuscript Discovered," Theatre
0 e O I xx ' 37-141.

22Sherbo, New Essays, pp. 179—184.

 

 

l7

  
 
  
  
   
    
   
  
  
   
  
   
  
 
 
  

?i§}q:undertook the IEEE in defense of the fallen New-
.jéhfitle administration. This journal was soon answered
oigfiy Owen Ruffhead's Con-Test, whose raison d'etre was

" gantradicting the 2255 in support of the Pitt ministry,

- find Murphy found himself embroiled in a full-scale poli-
,t1cal paper-war.

Thus, in January 1757, when Murphy began his
-first series of theatrical criticisms in the London
Chronicle, he was eminently qualified for such a task.
For the past eight years he had been intimately involved
in the literary and theatrical life of London. He was
widely read in the literature of the drama and in criti-
ca1.theory. He was a lucid and entertaining writer, a
proven essayist able to meet the demands of regular com-
position. Though his best work as a playwright was still
in—the future, his experience as a writer and his two

‘1 .g, years asga professional actor had taught him that works
,‘t n-flaant.for performance demanded critical standards differ-
._£‘7§§t from those meant only to be read-—a lesson few critics
-7%_,g§-the time had learned. That Murphy's London Chronicle

. , :.A
g"! ygfiiticism was the best of its kind in the century should

- c x
v,‘ ' I §
_ , .7

figfitibe surprising.
if:

 

 

 

18

      
   
  
   

fi???»uwst eminent periods in the history of the English

uh f, e. Seldom before, and never since, has the theatre
..

lfayed such a part in the life of its time. Murphy, re-

' .filecting on half a century's association with the London

..‘T theatrical world, commented that in Garrick's time, "the
0
theatre engrossed the minds of men to such a degree, that

1

   

'

it may now be said, that there existed in England a

iburth estate, Kings, Lords, and Commons, and Drury—Lane-
23

I
.7
r‘

" There is more fact than hyperbole in Mur-

Playhouse."

Aphy's statement. More than a century and a half later,

 
 
  
  
  
   
  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  

'George Winchester Stone, discussing the attempt of him-
self and his colleagues to reconstruct the London stage
as'it existed from 1660 to 1800, wrote of the mid-century
"plgrtheatre, "The institution which emerges is not a property,
’texstage, an actor, a text, or an audience, but a complex
'}; : business enterprise of increasing prosperity, which took
ifi¥.1ts.place-as a constant in the daily life of London--as
v;%;.1mnch of a-constant as the church, the government, the mar-
. ;' _Eet, the transport system, or the building and victualling
:izg teases."24

P The theatre had been a vital force in the first

"ffi§é§rte ‘of the century under the acting and direction of

 

23Life of Garrick, II, 201.
24

‘7':

‘5, I.
' , The London Stage 1660-1880, Part 4: 1747-1776
L218, ’ I x X.

 

19

 

Cibber, Wilks, and Booth, but by 1732 it had fallen into
a state of decline. At the end of this year, Wilks was
dead, Booth ailing, and Cibber retired. The audiences
flocked to see Rich's pantomimes, and legitimate comedy
and tragedy had few supporters. But in the 1740's, Gar-
rick and Charles Macklin revitalized the stage with their
natural acting styles, and in 1747, when Garrick and James
Lacy assumed the joint managership of Drury Lane, one of
the great theatrical eras began.

The London Patent houses of this era were above
all actors' theatres: "Because of its dependence on the
repertory system, the Georgian theatre had kept alive
the masterpieces of the older drama, and in presenting
them also fashioned a race of great actors whose equals

perhaps have not been seen before or since."25

Garrick,
of course, was the acknowledged master, but he was not
unchallenged in a number of roles. The handsome Spranger
Barry was his most formidable rival. They often appeared

in the same roles and their rivalry filled both houses.

 

"Barry was the most irresistible of stage lovers, and in

tenderness and majesty was as incomparable as Garrick was

in the grand and conflicting passions of humanity."26

 

25Appleton and Burnim, Prompter, p. v.

26H. Barton Baker, English Actors (New York, 1879),

I, 204.

20

  
 

There was also the irascible Charles Macklin who began
the theatrical reformation with his interpretation of
Shylock, a low comedy role until he restored the original.
His contribution to natural acting has been often over—
looked in the adulation of Garrick.27 Henry Mossop, a
tall and stately actor with a strong and harmonious voice,
was, despite a certain mechanical quality, a notable and
popular tragedian. Samuel Foote, actor, author, sometime-
manager, was the leading mimic. The great comedian of
the day was Henry Woodward. His Marplot, Bobadil, Touch-
stone, Mercutio, and Lord Foppington were unsurpassed and
he rivalled John Rich as Harlequin.

The women were no less regarded than the men.
r Hannah Pritchard, who held the stage for thirty-six years,
k excelled in both comedy and tragedy though she leaned
toward comic roles. Known for her portrayal of characters
r of intrigue, mirth, and gaiety, and for those of the term-

agent, she was also a fine Queen in Hamlet and, until late

 

in the century, an unequalled Lady Macbeth. Susanna Maria
Cibber's forte was the tender and passionate heroine.’ She
was an accomplished singer and though not a beautiful

woman, "her person was perfectly elegant";28 at the age

 

27Alan S. Downer, "Nature to Advantage Dressed:
Eighteenth-Century Acting," in Restoration Drama, ed. John
Loftis (New York, 1966), pp. 33 - .

28The Thespian Dictionary (London, 1805), sub
Cibber.

 

21

  
  
   
  
  
  
   
  
   
   
  
  
  
  
   
     
  

{ ‘{;iy She could still play the part of a juvenile

Q. ~ Hie with plausibility. The expressive and vivacious
.gggyfiWOEfington excelled in roles of females of high rank
z:‘gfifl;in comic parts, but her most famous was the "breechesf
efiétt as Sir Harry Wildair in Farquhar's 222.92222322
._.E§E@£g. In this role she had replaced Robert Wilks, the

‘ thrivalled "fine gentleman" of an earlier era. George-
“’ocuahne'Bellamy disputed Mrs. Cibber in the "love-lorn hero-

_\ 29
,3gine810f tragedy.“

Acclaimed for her beauty, wit, and
'..passion, by 1760, at the age of twenty—nine, her beauty
iiufli faded, and never quite having had the professional
ijcampetence that allowed other actresses to overcome this
r}f;716ss, her stage career was over. The most famous comedi-
t henna of the era was Kitty Clive. She acted from 1728 to
' eiifig and her only flaw was a penchant for playing tragedy,
a genre for which she was completely unsuited and one
Fihich she often turned into burlesque.

} auk- A relatively stable, highly professional company

Viagraotors was the sine gua non of the repertory system.

' Ease season which ran from mid-September through May, each

. t‘
‘ ‘14
..

Iiity different plays. Only the most competent pro-

 

 

22

 

Though the Licensing Act of 1737 had restricted
the legitimate drama to the two Patent theatres in Drury
Lane and Covent Garden, the competition was intense. In
the 1750's, the two theatres were almost equal in size,
with Drury Lane having an estimated capacity of 1,268
persons and Covent Garden 1,335.30 That throughout the
decade Drury Lane had an average attendance of about one
thousand persons a day and Covent Garden only thirty to
‘ fifty less, marks the equality of their offerings. Actors
could move freely between the two houses or, as they often
did, go to Dublin for the season. Hence, monopoly had no
adverse effect on the excellence of performance and may
in fact have aided it by concentrating the actors in a

circumscribed area. It did, however, severely limit the

WV f vim

outlets for new drama.

The audience came from all walks of life, though
t the upper-middle class set the moral, social, and economic
tone of the theatre in this period. The lower classes,
workmen, sailors, servants, apprentices, all but the lowest
(who seldom had the price of admission), sat in the upper
[ or "shilling" gallery. The small businessmen, shopmen,

} experienced clerks, and journeymen were divided between

 

30For statistics on capacity and attendance, and
for the following information on the nature of the audi-
ence, I am indebted to Harry William Pedicord, The Theat-
rical Public in the Time of Garrick (Carbondale, I954).

 

 

 

 

 

23

  

the upper and lower galleries. The gallery audience made
up the largest share of "after money," income from the
practice of admitting at "half price" after the third

act those who were either previously engaged, or, more
commonly, those interested only in the entertainment that
followed the mainpiece. Though the galleries were often
loud and obstreperous, a more critical audience sat in
the pit. Here gathered professional men, public servants,
men from the inns of court, and the young men about town;
this was, in general, a literate and interested audience,
many of whose members were regular theatregoers and com-
petent critics. In line with the change from an aristo-
cratic to a middle class theatre, wealthy traders and
employers now joined the aristocracy in the boxes.

Though some of the earlier abuses, such as the
seating of patrons on the stage, were gradually abolished,
by modern standards this was a difficult audience to play
for. As late as 1788, a critic in the Monthly Review
could still talk about "catcalls," the "vociferous im-
portunities of orange-women," and "the licentious clamours
of the galleries."31 It was an axiom that, "Mr. Town and
John Bull would have their own way and not be in the least

32

controlled." Surprisingly, these theatregoers were

 

31LXXIX (July 1788), 79.

32Wilkinson, Memoirs, II, 36.

 

 

 

24

  

quite generous to novice performers, a phenomenon often
remarked upon, but when displeased with a seasoned actor,
even one of their favorites, they were capable of halting
the performance with noise and a barrage of refuse.

They came to theatres heated by coal burning
fireplaces and lighted by Spermacetti and wax candles
and oil lamps. If they came for the full bill of fare,
they were in the theatre from six o'clock to ten. The
evening "consisted of a Prologue, a full five-act Mgipf

piece, an Epilogue, some form of theatrical dance (usually

 

narrative and comic), a two-act Afterpiece, a good deal
of popular mpgig, and during the benefit season, a number
of specialty acts."33 The afterpiece was usually a farce,
a pantomime, a ballad opera, or a burletta. At Covent
Garden, the afterpiece would more often be a pantomime,
for its manager, the eccentric John Rich, was himself a
leading Harlequin and "revolved his afterpiece program
about a repertory of five elegantly got-up pantomimes
each season."34 At Drury Lane, satirical farces predomi-
nated but Rich's competition forced Garrick to offer more

pantomimes than he preferred.

 

33Stone, London Stage, I, xxiv.

34For this and the following information about
the theatrical repertory, I am indebted to Stone, London

Stage.

 

  

25

 

Despite the accusations levelled at Rich by his
contemporaries that he corrupted the public taste with
his pantomimes and pageants, his mainpiece offerings were
similar to thdse at Drury Lane, and throughout the 1750's
the competition between the two houses in legitimate
drama was stiff. The edge held by Drury Lane was due to
its having a slightly superior company of actors headed
by the inimitable Garrick, rather than to its being the
last bastion of legitimate drama. However, it is true
that Rich was less amenable than Garrick to producing the
work of new writers.

Out of the one hundred eighty acting nights, each
theatre usually presented about sixteen different tragedies,
thirty comedies, and six miscellaneous types--histories,
tragicomedies, opera, masques. This was the period of the
great Shakespeare revival, and between the two theatres
generally fifteen or sixteen of his plays were produced
each season. The most popular tragedies of the period
were Shakespeare's, with Romeo and Juliet heading the list,

followed by Hamlet, King Lear, Macbeth and Othello. Second

 

only to Shakespearean tragedy was the pathetic variety with
Otway's The Orphan and Venice Preserv'd, Rowe's The Fair
Penitent and Jane Shore, and Congreve's The Mourning Bride
the most popular representatives of the type.

The ratio of comic offerings to those of tragedy

show this was an age of comedy. It far outdistanced

 

 

  

26

'tragedy in both the number of performances of old and new

works and in the quality of the plays being written at
this time. Though a good deal of critical attention has
been devoted to sentimental comedy in this period, comedy
of manners still dominated the stage, and performances of
this type alone almost doubled those of sentimental come-
dy. When Shakespearean comedy, humours comedy, and comedy of
intrigue are taken into consideration along with that of
manners, presentations of sentimental comedy constitute
less than one-fifth of the comic repertory.

Once again, the single most important author was

Shakespeare; his Much Ado About Nothing, The Tempest

 

(usually altered as an opera), As You Like It, The Mer-

 

chant of Venice, Twelfth Night, Measure for Measure, and

 

The Merry Wives of Windsor were among the most popular

 

plays of the period. The most popular single comedy was

Benjamin Hoadly's The Suspicious Husband, a combination

 

of manners, intrigue and sentiment. Season after season,
the plays that formed the basis of the comic repertory
included Farquhar's The Beaux' Stratagem and The Recruit-

ing Officer; Mrs. Centlivre's The Wonder, The Busy Body,

 

and A Bold Stroke for a Wife; Ben Jonson's Every Man in

 

His Humour and The Alchymist; Congreve's The Way of the

WOrld and Love for Love; Steele's The Conscious Lovers;

 

Colley Cibber's The Careless Husband, his completion of

 

Vanbrugh's The Provk'd Husband, Love's Last Shift, and

 

She WOuld and She WOuld Not.

 

 

  
 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

27

K‘ifins most popular work by far in the miscellaneous
z'.was~Gay's ballad opera, The Beggar's Opera. It

figféormed more times than any other work and topped

"Romeo and Juliet by a good margin. Shakespeare's

v’es, Richard II, Richard III, and Henry VIII were

 

pplayed. A few comic operas, Burgoyne's The Maid of
Oaks, and Bickerstaffe's Maid of the Mill and Love in

;lla§e, were perennial productions. A surprising entry

 

 

II

MURPHY'S CRITICAL PREMISES

   
  
 
 
 
  
   
 
 
  
  

That the eighteenth century was a period of criti-
.%g§I,turmoil, a period in which occurred some of the most
xygigportant.and far-reaching changes in not only critical

“ gfiéeomy but in the philosophical and psychological founda-
‘1géggns of such theory, is a common—place of contemporary

1 :égholarship. The view, which regarded the criticism of
ékwflés period as a series of smug and self-assured procla-
u7~3fitions based on unarguable and immutable literary laws,
ciiéino.longer tenable. The alterations and innovations
‘3'?§§§t kept critical theory in a state of flux throughout

.Zaaffefcentury have been well documented, though the mean-

fifrgm this welter of conflicting and contradictory

-‘5those.elements with enough cOmmonality to be

28

 

 

 

29

used as characteristic marks of mid eighteenth-century
critical thought.

By the 1740's, the standards of French Neo-
Classicism, that had strongly influenced English critical
theory in the last quarter of the Seventeenth Century,
received little endorsement. From Dryden on there was a
growing realization that the "rules," which were the es—
sence of early neo-classical doctrine and which received
their authority from contemporary interpretations of the
maxims of the "ancients," were a set of after-the—fact
descriptions. They were derived from the model literary
works of classical antiquity, without regard for histori-
cal and cultural needs and differences, and they failed
to account for anything beyond, and even here not very
satisfactorily, the structural aspects of literature.

J. W. H. Atkins remarks:
Amid conflicting cross-currents there was already
an awakening to the need for something more than
the rules, a realization that the poetic appeal was
not to the intellect alone, but to the emotions as
well; and methods of appreciation, as distinct from
methods of composition, became now the main considera-
tion. Certain general principles, for instance, were
'either emphasized anew or tentatively set forth for
the first time. Fixed rules, it was asserted, were

inconsistent with a changing environment; a distinction

 

30

 

was drawn between the 'mathematical reason' and the
'poetical reason'; 'good taste' was advocated as
the test of literary excellence; and attempts were
made to clear up obscurities in the critical
terminology.35
The rejection of these "fixed rules" led the critics of
this period to search in new directions for a more viable
set of principles.

Why the rules came to be called into question
during this particular time remains a matter of specula-
tion. Hypotheses range from ideas about the rise of
"mechanistic" philosophy; destroying the special provinces
of poetry, hence, producing counter-arguments attempting
to preserve these provinces, to suppositions about chang-
ing social conditions creating a climate in which litera-
ture and criticism flourished. Obviously, there is no
simple answer, nor single factor, that will serve to ex-
plain this complex process. However, one phenomenon that
stands out, though always in conjunction with other factors,
is that a constantly growing body of criticism, both the-

) oretical and practical, generated the examination of its

own principles. As R. S. Crane points out, "it was in a

 

period from Dryden to the end of the eighteenth century,

 

35English Literary Criticism, 17th & 18th Cen-
turies (London, 1951), p. 185.

 

 

 

 

31

and to some extent under the influence of Dryden's example,
that criticism of poetry, painting, and the other fine
arts became, for the first time in English literature, an
important branch of learning, considered worthy of culti-
vation, for both practical and theoretical ends, by some
of the most distinguished minds of the time."36
Previous to this time, the existing body of cri-
ticism was largely theoretical. It was a body of deductive
literary precepts which were seldom applied to individual
works. With the rise of practical criticism the great
disparity between theory and practice became increasingly
recognized. This recognition received its initial stimu-
lus from the inability of the critics to reconcile the
excellences of Shakespeare with his violation of the-
rules.37 From this point, it was a short step to the
realization that the rules explained little, if anything,
about the beauties and effects of English drama in gen-
eral. By 1702, though at this time still a minority
opinion, Farquhar could say, "All the Authorities, all
the Rules of Antiquity have prov'd too weak to support

the Theatre, whilst others who have dispenc'd with the

 

36"English Neo-classical Criticism: An Outline
Sketch," in Critics and Criticism, ed. R. S. Crane (Chi-
cago, 1952), p. 372.

37SeeClarence C. Green, The Neo-Classical Theor
(Cam-

of Tra ed in En land During the Eighteenth Century
Bridge, Mass.,l934), pp. 82-101.

32

 

Critics, and taken a Latitude in the OEconomy of their
. Plays, have been the chief Supporters of the Stage, and
the Ornament of the Drama; this is so visibly true, that
I need bring in no instances to enforce it."38
The ensuing search for a more serviceable set of
principles moved the source of these principles from its
32225 within literature to stations outside of litera-
ture.39 This search took three general directions, though
it must always be noted that the directions were not
separate entities but were a matter of emphasis, each
always partaking of elements from the others. One direc-
tion was an attempt to ground the principles of literary
structures in that most ambiguous concept, "nature."
L This direction emphasized the works themselves as the
focal point of critical theory. Another trend was toward
* an audience-centered aesthetic, toward theories of evalua-
tion based on the "effects" of literature. The third line
of development was the renewed interest in theories of

t creation. Here the emphasis was on concepts of "genius,"

 

38"Discourse upon Comedy," in Critical Essays of
the 18th Centur , ed. W. H. Durham (New Haven, 1915),
p. 263.

39For the nucleus of the following ideas I am in-

debted to: M. H. Abrams, The Mirror and the Lagp (New
York, 1953); walter Jackson Bate, From Classic to Romantic
(Cambridge, Mass., 1946); René Wellek, A History of Modern
Egiticism, 1750-1950 (New Haven, 1955), I; R. S. Crane,

op . cit.—

 

 

 

 

 

33

   

"imagination," and "invention," which allowed the artist
to transcend the rules.

As long as the source of the rules had remained
the literature itself, as was the case with the old
principles, which were essentially compositional or
structural precepts abstracted from individual works,
there was, at least theoretically, no problem with either
theories of creation or of evaluation. For if the source
I of the principles is the literature, and if these princi—
ples are accepted as basic critical premises, then both
evaluation and creation work tautologically, i.e., in
i order to create a work of art one need only follow the
L compositional rules; to evaluate a work, one need only

determine its conformity to the rules.

t It goes without saying that actual critical prac-
b tices never approached this kind of simple-minded reduc-
i tion. However, as a reductio ad absurdum of the self-
contained nature of those critical theories which were
based on notions of immutable structural rules, the over-
i simplification may point to one reason for the number of
I directions taken after rules—oriented theories were re-

L jected. When the search for new literary principles

placed the source of these principles somewhere outside

 

of literature, e.g., in "nature," it broke the tautology
that bound together literary works, their creation, and
their evaluation, and thus allowed for differing, and

even contradictory, premises for each of these aspects.

 

34

R. L. Brett points out, "With the breakdown of

 

traditional authority it was natural that criticism should
turn to the new philosophy of ideas and substitute psy-
chological explanation for the dictates of Aristotle."40
This psychological bias can be seen in the question of
whether a work of artappeals to the reason or to the feel-
ings; it was a question that remained one of the primary
concerns throughout the century. With this shift to the
“effectiveness" of literature there arose that battery of

} ambiguous concepts that are interpreted by some as har-
bingers of Romanticism, and by others as logical exten-
sions of Neo-Classicism: taste, the 'sublime,’ genius,
imagination, fancy, invention. These, along with nature
and imitation, became the important concepts of eighteenth-
. century criticism.

What the fragmentation into a number of philoso-
phical and psychologically based theories means to an
attempt to characterize mid eighteenth-century critical
thought is, that by this time, what is generally termed
‘ Neo—Classicism is no longer definable by a particular set
) of tenets. In the 1750's, it is not unusual for a critic
to propose that literary works follow at least those rules

of the ancients which are founded on universal humanity,

 

40The Third Earl of Shaftesbury (London, 1951),
p. 127.

 

 

 

 

35

 

i.e., "nature"; to base his concept of artistic creation
on definitions of "genius," "judgment," and "imagination,"
largely borrowed from the associationist psychology that
had developed out of the thought of Hobbes and Locke; to
ground his theory of evaluation in both a Neo-Platonic
concept of "taste," and in the pleasure and moral utility
of Horace's utile et dulce. It is important to keep in
mind that generally these premises were implicit rather
than explicit. And that often, the critic, when dealing
with individual works or when theorizing about the various
forms, did not separate, or was even unaware of, such
categories as structure, creation, and evaluation. These
all blend inLtheevaluation of any given work and are only
tools that allow one to sort trends from the critical
complexities of this period.

If the Neo-Classicism of this time cannot be de-
fined by a particular set of precepts, it appears that
it may be defined by a commonality of critical approach
and a few generally held assumptions. One of the basic
aims of Neo-Classicism, as opposed to the impressionistic
tendency of Romanticism, was, "to discover the principles
or the '1aws' or 'rules' of literature, of literary
creation, of the structure of a literary work of art,

and of the reader's response."41 Despite the various

 

41Wellek, History, I, 12.

 

 

36

directions taken in this search, and despite the ambigui-
ties of such concepts as imagination, fancy, taste, and
the 'sublime,‘ there were always implicit assumptions of,
"a stable psychology of human nature, a fundamental set
of norms in the works themselves, a uniform working of
human sensibility and intelligence allowing us to reach
conclusions which would be valid for all art and all
literature."42
This then, was roughly the state of English criti-
cal theory, when, in the 1750's, Murphy began his career
as a practicing critic. By the last half of the eighteenth
century, any critic who had pretensions to more than per-
sonal opinion, had to confront, and attempt to solve for
himself, a multitude of critical problems. And as Murphy
appears to have been more aware than most of this critical
legacy, it is not surprising to find him subject to quite
diverse influences.
He had been educated in France, was a life-long
student and translator of the classics, and he maintained
a passionate and abiding interest in most aspects of Eng-
lish literature and its criticism-—particular1y that of
the drama. Throughout his early writings he makes refer-

ence to, among others, Horace and Aristotle, to Boileau,

421bid.

   

   

~7va—

 

 

37

Rapin, Bossu, Bouhours, Dacier, and Voltaire, to Locke,

Dryden, Shaftesbury, Pope, Dennis, Rymer, and Johnson.

In his common-place book, probably written in the 1780's,
there are notes on, or references to Lowth, Harris, Hurd,
Marmontel, Vida, Blair, Lord Kames, and Fontenelle.43 It
may be no exaggeration to claim that Murphy was as well
read in critical theory, in both that of the past and of
his contemporaries, as any critic in eighteenth-century
England. That he was aware of the various cross-currents
brooks no contention. That he attempted, often quite
successfully, to resolve many of these theoretical prob—
lems, will be demonstrated in the following survey of his

critical premises.

The primary objective of examining Murphy's
theories is to acquaint the reader of his theatrical
criticism with those assumptions upon which this criti-
cism is based. A second purpose is to provide the reader
with Murphy's particular uses and definitions of those
ambiguous concepts, "nature," "taste," "imagination,"
etc., that were fundamental to the criticism of this
period. Finally, there is the intrinsic interest in

examining the theories of a critic, who except for some

 

43J. Homer Caskey, "Arthur Murphy's Common-Place

Book," SE, XXXVII (1940), 598-609.

38

attention to his statements on the drama, has been largely
overlooked; and possibly finding he is a better critic
than has been supposed.

One of the main reasons Murphy has been overlooked
as a theorist, and the chief difficulty in attempting to
survey his premises, is that he was not a systematic
critic. This is not to impugn his logic in the handling
of specific critical problems, it is only to point out
that he left no single treatise, or group of works, in
which his critical theories were systematically set
forth. The closest he comes to this is in a few sequences
of essays in the 1786 edition of the Gray's-Inn Journal.
During a time span of almost half a century, he dealt, at
one point or another, with most of the critical problems
of the period. But his treatment of these problems is
scattered throughout the Gray's Inn-Journal, the Monthly
Review, the London Chronicle, and his lives of Johnson,
Fielding, and Garrick. It is surprising to find how
much space he devoted to critical concerns when he was
ostensibly writing biography.

This means, that in order to examine Murphy's
critical theories in the same way one would those of a
systematic critic, his premises must be collected from
the different sources, and juxtaposed in some logical
sequence. But it is important that no system be imposed

on these concepts that might alter their meanings. To

39

avoid this problem, the various critical concerns have
been ordered in the same general patterns that most
eighteenth-century criticism appears to have followed,
i.e., to begin with his statements about the rules seems
the logical starting point; to move next to his ideas of
nature and imitation, which are premises of literary
structures; then to his notions of genius, imagination,
judgment, and invention, all concepts of artistic crea—
tion; after this, to the "affective" aSpects--taste and
its alliance with morality, and the sublime; finally,
most of these converge in his theories of the different
literary forms.

As the survey proceeds, an attempt will be made
to place Murphy's ideas in the critical milieu of the
period, and to compare his concepts with the prevailing
ones. Where particular influences are obvious, they
will be pointed out. However, when dealing with a
critic as subject to the various cross-currents as Murphy,
the matter of influence is, at best, specious.

Even a casual glance at some of Murphy's state-
ments regarding the rules, particularly in those essays
where the limits of time and space precluded any con-
sideration of critical principles, turns up a number of
seeming inconsistencies. At times, he appears to advocate
almost a rigid French Neo-Classical adherence to the rules.

"The Plot is very far from being conducted artificially,

40

and in a just Subordinancy to the Rules of the Drama."44

"The Rules of the Drama are frequently destroyed, and in

general it is such a Jumble of Banqueting, Rioting, Lov-

ing, Fighting, Drinking, and Quarrelling, that a worse

play could not be well chosen to suit the modern Taste."45
Opposed to these are a number of counter-statements

in which the inadequacy of these precepts is recognized.

Often, as for so many eighteenth-century critics, it was

Shakespeare's transcendence that made this inadequacy

most obvious. "The light of Nature was his guide. In

some instances he saw the beauty arising from the Unity

of his subject; in others, he chose to follow the chain

of historical events, and he felt, as his auditors always

feel, that the warmth, the spirit, and the rapidity of

his genius, could give even to wild variety all the

graces of connection."46
But Shakespeare was only the most conspicuous

example of the rules' inherent limitations as critical

principles. Of Otway's The Orphan Murphy remarks, "In

 

the Play now before us there are many admirable Strokes

of Genius, andtfluaStory shews us how greatly those Critics

 

44London Chronicle, Jan. 25-27, 1757.

 

45London Chronicle, Feb. 12-15, 1757.

 

46§£gyls Inn-Journal, No. 41 (1786). Hereafter

abbreviate GIJ.

41

are mistaken, who insist that the Subject of Tragedy
should always be some illustrious Action depending among

great and exalted Personages."47

And of the English
tragedians he can say, "Our poets are sufficiently pos-
sessed of the Spirit of Tragedy, but they are not atten-
tive to the minute rules of correct taste, and the trouble
of blotting. It may be added, that they have more real
fire, sublimer sentiments, and characters better marked
than any nation whatever."48

A number of his seeming inconsistencies are ex-
plained in those theoretical passages in which he examines
the limits and the usefulness of the rules. The following
quotations best summarize not only Murphy's position on
the rules, but the one commonly held by most late
eighteenth-century critics.49 In a review of Henry Pye's
translation of Aristotle's Poetics, he says of Pye's
projected commentary on this work that a dissertation of
this nature "may teach the critic not to adopt, with
superstition, rules of the drama, merely because they

are in Aristotle; for in the Greek writer many rules are

 

47London Chronicle, Mar. 8-10, 1757.

 

486IJ, No. 73 (1786).

49A. Bosker in his Literary Criticism in the Age
of Johnson (The Hague, 1930), p. 64, uses one of MurphyTs
statements on the rules (921! No. 87) to exemplify the
common eighteenth-century position.

42

to be found, which are not fundamental, but adapted en-
tirely to the structure of the ancient drama."50 In one

of the Gray's-Inn Journal essays he makes his most cogent

 

statement on this matter:
That the rules established by Aristotle and Horace
are, for the most part, agreeable to nature, I am
ready to allow. Men of inferior genius may think
it in their interest, and, if they will, their duty
to conform to those rules. They may, in that school,
learn the economy of a just and well arranged fable.
But fable is but a secondary beauty; the exhibition
of character, and the excitement of the passions,
justly claiming the precedence. With the rules,
which theoretical writers have drawn into a system,
Shakespeare appears not much acquainted. Of those
rules some are valuable, because founded in NATURE;
others are of positive institution only, and like
many arbitrary acts of civil society, they cease in

51

time to have the force of obligation.

Hence, most of the time, when Murphy takes an author to

 

50The Monthly Review, LXXX (February 1789), 148.
For Murphy's contributions to this periodical I am in-
debted to Benjamin C. Nangle, The Monthly Review (1749-
1780): Indexes of Contributors and Articles (Oxford, 1934).

 

 

51am, No. 41 (1786).

43
task for not following the rules, he is referring to
those general laws of "nature," not to the precepts of
the ancients--except where they are one and the same.

The obvious problem with this concept is the in-
consistency which manifested itself in the criticism of
individual works. Which are the rules of nature, good
for all time and place, and which are the arbitrary ones?
Each critic of the period seems to have drawn the line
at a different point. Not only might each critic draw
a different line within this general concept, but his
line of demarcation often changed at various times in
his career, or when dealing with different writers. Mur-
phy was no exception to this disparity. While he advo-
cated an adherence only to "those rules founded in
nature," he sometimes criticized on the basis of the
"arbitrary" ones.

Central to Murphy's discussion of the rules, and
central to any examination of eighteenth-century critical
theory is that problematic concept, "nature." But before
exploring the various senses in which Murphy used this
term, some of the critical directions implied in the
foregoing statements about the rules might be noted.

Implied here are the general directions taken in
the eighteenth-century search for more comprehensive
literary principles. The most apparent is the turn

toward "nature" in an attempt to ground literature in

44

something more fundamental than arbitrary rules of com-
position. The recurring term, "genius," points toward
the interest taken during this time in the properties
and characteristics of artistic creation. And such
phrases as "real fire," "sublimer sentiments," and the
"excitement of the passions," suggest an "affective" or
audience-centered aesthetic.

"Nature" is one of the most important yet elusive
critical concepts of the eighteenth century. The shifts
and changes in the ideas of "nature" that took place dur-
ing this period have been viewed by a number of intellec-
tual historians as the key to eighteenth-century thought.52
Basically, "Nature and Reason are normally associated in
the earlier part of the century, Nature and Feeling in

53

the later." But the meaning of the term was constantly

shifting and in the use of "nature" as an aesthetic norm

alone, A. O. Lovejoy identifies eighteen different senses

of the word.54

Murphy's use of the term falls into two general

categories: (1.) imitation of "nature" as a structural

52See A. O. Lovejoy, The Great Chain of Being

(Cambridge, Mass., 1936); Basil Willey,The§ighteenth
Qpptury Background (London, 1940).

 

53Willey, p. 207.

. 54"'Nature' As Aesthetic Norm," in Essays In the
History of Ideas (New York, 1960), pp. 70-73}

 

45

principle, i.e., art as a representation of the usual or
probable in life, a representation in which the various
events must have plausible connections; (2.) "nature" as
an "affective" concept, i.e., only a "just imitation of
nature" elicits the desired response from an audience.
The following quotations illustrate the first category:
. . . and Scrub is justly drawn from Nature, though
not always acted 50.55
It seems a kind of fatality in the literary World,
that fashion seems to govern, what should only be
directed by the Standard of Nature.56
. . . when Truth breaks in upon him, when he sees and
feels himself ridiculous, it is from irresistible
57

Circumstances, and without a Violation of Nature.

[that Jonson's Every Man in His Humour survived for

 

160 years] . . . shews us that the Painter's Pencil
must have been faithful to Nature, otherwise we should
hardly please ourselves, at present, with Portraits

I I 58
whose Originals are no more.

 

55London Chronicle, Jan. 20-22, 1757.

 

561bid., Jan. 27-29.

57Ibid., Feb. 10-12.

58Ibido' Mar. 31-Apro 20

46

For Murphy, as for most eighteenth-century Neo-
Classicists, "nature" was shared common experience. The
"improbably possible" violated common experience almost
as much as did the "impossible." However, the concept
of imitation, which was derived from a rather literal
interpretation of Aristotle's Mimesis, was not one of
"photographic naturalism."59 It did not limit the artist
to the known world, only to a credible one, to "the in-
vention of something, which, though not actually existing,
was in strict accordance with the laws of nature and
reason."60 Thus, Murphy could say of Shakespeare's
supernatural beings, "There is something so wild, yet so
solemn, in the Speeches of his imaginary Persons, that
we cannot help thinking them Natural, and must confess,
that if there are such Beings, it is highly probable,
their Manners and VOcations, their Sports and Pastimes,
their Delights and Resentments, must be such as he has

represented."61

Occasionally, Murphy uses the term "romantic,"
as an antonym of "natural." In its usual eighteenth-

century sense the qualities designated by this term were

59Wellek, History, I, 14.

60Bosker, Age of Johnson, p. 10.

61GIJ. No. 8 (1754).

47

the "mere produce of unregulated imagination; they were
not reasonable, they did not imitate Nature, and they
were therefore condemned as Gothic, unnatural, ridiculous

and childish."62

It is in this sense that Murphy means
the word when hesays of Jodrell's The Persian Heroine,
"That is made romantic which should have been rendered

probable.";63 or, when Speaking of Delap's The Captives,

 

"An audience expects to see a piece, after all its turns
and revolutions of fortune, conducted to its final peri-

od by probable means. In the play before us the event

is romantic."64

In the second general category of Murphy's em-
ployment of the term "nature," a "just imitation of
nature" is a necessity if the artist is to move an audi-
ence. When he says, "without Nature it being impossible
to reach the Heart,"65 or, "The rest of the Piece is a
Succession of Miracles, unnatural and improbable Turns

of Fortune, and we are every Moment surprised with some

new Discovery to make us stare, but not reach our Hearts,"66

 

62Logan Pearsall Smith, Four Words: Romantic,

ggjginality, Creative, Genius (Oxford, 1924), p. 9.

 

63Monthly Review, LXXV (July 1786), 58.
64Ibid., 62.
65

London Chronicle, Feb. 12-15, 1757.

661bid., Jan. 25-27.

48

he assumes there is something inherently "affective" in
a just imitation. He states this assumption more explic-
itly in a review of Burke's, A Philosophical Enguiry into
the Origin of our Ideas of the Sublime and Beautiful:
"But surelyzhithe imitative arts we can never lose the
idea of imitation. If the object be inconsiderable, or
even odious, it will please in a just representation; and
if the object be Sublime or Beautiful, it will please the
more on this account, if the imitation be just; but if
the imitation be defective, we revolt from it, not with-
standing the excellence of the original."67
Why the achieving of certain effects in an audi-
ence, "reaching their hearts," is so desirable is involved
with eighteenth-century premises about the ends of art.
In the audience-centered aesthetic of the period, the
Intimate end of art was moral instruction.68 The most
effective means to this end, and sometimes an end in it-
self, was pleasure, i.e., through pleasure the audience
is made receptive to instruction. And a "just imitation
of nature" was posited as one of the primary sources of

pleasure.

 

67The Literary Magazine, XIII (April lS-May 15,
1757). 185.

68See Abrams, Mirror, pp. 14-21.

49

When Murphy Mentions the creative artist, that
individual capable of creating those literary structures
which so "affect" us, the one recurring term is "genius."
It was genius that allowed the artist to transcend the
rules. Genius was one of Murphy's favorite terms, and
was used so often in his criticism of Shakespeare that
it almost functioned as an epithet: "He was not versed
in Aristotle's art of poetry; but he had what was better
than art; a genius superior to all mankind."69 For Mur-
phy, a genius was one, "who possesses the leading facul—
ties of the mind in their vigour, and can exercise them
with warmth and spirit upon whatever subject he chuses."70

What Murphy meant by this is set forth in his
Life of Fielding. Here he examines, what he calls, the
"principal efficient qualities" of genius: imagination,
judgment, and invention. The analysis begins with the
imagination which:

must, in particular, be very quick and susceptible,
. . . that it may receive the strongest impressions
either from the objects of Nature, the works of art,

or the actions and manners of men; for it is in pro-

portion as this power of the mind is wrought upon,

69GIJ, No. 89 (1786).

7°Life of Fielding, p. 36.

 

50

that the author feels in his own breast those fine
sensations, which it is his business to impart to
others, and that he is able to describe things in
so lively a manner, as to make them, as it were,
present to us, and of consequence to give what turn

he pleases to our affections. The Judgment also must

 

be clear and strong, that the prOper parts of a story
or description may be selected, that the disposition
of the various members of a work may be used, as to
give a lucid order to the whole, and that such ex-
pression may be made use of, as shall not only serve
to convey the intended ideas, but shall convey them
forcibly and with that decorum of style, which the

art of composition requires. . . . Invention must

 

also concur, that new scenery may be opened to the
fancy, or, at least, that new lights may be thrown
upon the prospect of Nature; that the sphere of our
own ideas may be enlarged, or a new assemblage may
be formed of them, either in the way of fable or il-
lustration; so, that if the author does not disclose
original traces of thinking, by presenting to us ob-
jects unseen before, he may at least delight by the
novelty of their combination, and the points of View
in which he offers them. The power of mind, more-
over, which exerts itself in what Mr. Locke calls

the association of ideas, must be quick, vigorous,

51

and warm, because it is from thence that language
receives its animated figures, its bold translation
of phrases from one idea to another, the verbum
ordens, the flowing metaphysical expression, which
constitutes the richness and boldness of his imagery;
and from thence likewise springs the readiness of
ennobling a sentiment or description with the pomp
of sublime comparison, or striking it deeper on the
mind by the aptness of witty allusion.71
Imagination, judgment, and invention then, are the pri—
nmry attributes of genius. An exploration of what these
terms meant to Murphy should give some notion of his
conception of both the artist and the creative process.
Murphy's concept of the imagination is a common
cme in eighteenth-century critical thought. What he says
about it here is essentially a restatement of Addison's
idea;72 which in turn owes its genesis to Locke.73 That

Murphy was influenced by.both of these men is a matter of

fact. The Gray's-Inn Journal was, in large part, a con-

 

scious imitation of both the format and the principles

711bid., pp. 36-37.

72See Spectator, No. 417.

73Kenneth MacLean, John Locke and En lish Litera-
IEEE 0f the Eighteenth Century (New Haven, 1 36), p. 11.

52

of the Spectator; and his references to Locke are numerous.
The reason for citing Addison here, rather than going di-
rectly to Locke, is that what Addison, and in turn Murphy,
label "imagination," comes under the general heading of
"perception" in Locke's An Essay Concerning Human Under-
standing.74 However, what is important here is that
Murphy's concept of imagination is a mechanistic one. It
is not a "creative" faculty in the Romantic sense but
simply one that perceives and associates sensations con-
veyed into the mind from.externa1 objects.

Much of the time when Murphy uses the term
"imagination" in his criticism it is in a slightly dif-
ferent sense. Rather than a faculty of perception, he
appears to mean what Locke defines as "wit": the, "as-
semblage of ideas, and putting those together with quick-
ness and variety, wherein can be found any resemblance
Or congruity, thereby to make up pleasant pictures and
agreeable visions in the fancy."75 Murphy is using the
term in this sense when he says, "To regulate and govern
the imagination, is recommended by a Greek Philosopher,

as a point of moment in the conduct of life. The

7411, ix, 183-192. All references are to the

New York, 1959 reprint of the standard 1894 edition, ed.
Alexander Campbell Fraser.

75Essay, II, xi, 203.

53

imagination is the liveliest faculty of the soul; it
gives to all objects the hue and colour, which they seem-
ingly wear; and we love and hate, hOpe and fear, accord-
ing to the scenes which are pictured to our fancy."76
Implied in this quotation are two common

eighteenth-century aspects of imagination. One is the

use of imagination and fancy as synonyms; the distinction
between these terms belongs to later critical theory.

The second aspect is the distrust of the imagination.
Though imagination is necessary to the creative process

it must always be held in check, for an excess of it in-
variably violates "nature." Flights of fancy create un-
natural similitudes. Thus Murphy says of Congreve's
Ehe.Mourning Bride, "After this, the Remainder of Osmyn's
Part is all Rant and wild Poetry, the Ideas and Expres-
sions being drawn from the Store of Imagination, without
the Simplicity always natural to Emotions of the Heart."77

Judgment is the faculty that holds fancy in check.

In Locke's theory of the association of ideas, it controls
the "tendency of the mind to join incorrect ideas to words

so that a true and correct taste might be established."78

¥

76GIJ, No. 23 (1786).

77London Chronicle, Jan. 25-27, 1757.

78Martin Kallich, "The Association of Ideas and

Ckitical Theory: Hobbes, Locke and Addison," ELH, XII
(1945). 314.

54

Though Murphy does not mention Locke in connection with
his concept of judgment, his notion of this faculty of
discrimination seems to stem from him. Since Locke,

after delineating the properties of wit, Opposes judgment
to it, "judgment, on the contrary, lies quite on the other
side, in separating carefully, one from another, ideas
wherein can be found the least difference, thereby to
avoid being misled by similitude, and by affinity to take

79

one thing for another," and since elsewhere Murphy

quotes Locke's preceding definition of wit,80 the influ-
ence may be assumed.

Invention, for Murphy, could be separated into
two types: "one, primary and original, which could as-
sociate images never before combined; the other, secondary
and subordinate, which could find out for those ideas,
which had been assembled before, a new place, a new order,
and arrangement, with new embellishments of the most har-
monious and exalted language."81 In the first, invention
Opens "new veins of thought"; in the second, it places

"ideas, that have been pre-occupied, in a new light, and

lends them the advantages of novelty, by the force of a

79Essay, II, xi, 203.

BOGIJ, No. 92, 1786.

81Life of Fielding, p. 30.

55

sublimer diction, or the turn of delicate composition."82
Murphy placed no particular premium on the first type,
and, in general, found it quite rare and overrated.
"There is reason to believe, that of what we call BEE?
magy, or Original Invention, there has not been so much
in any one poet (not even excepting Homer) as has been
generally imagined."83 In the second type of invention,
the poet availed himself of learning and brought history,
science, morality, and theology, to bear in placing ideas
in a new light. For Murphy, the charge of "lack of in-
vention" against an author often indicated both the crit-
ic's failure to recognize the merits of the second type,
and a misplaced emphasis on the first.

In the division of invention into two types,
bhuphy is not implying an imagination-fancy dichotomy.
That dichotomy meant a difference in kind, and Murphy is
here talking about degree. In the imagination-fancy
split, one is a creative faculty, the other an associa-
tive faculty. Here, both types of invention are
associative.

In summary, Murphy's concept of "genius" is of

an individual who possesses superior faculties, not

E

82Ibid., p. 31.

83Ibid., p. 32.

56

necessarily innately superior but raised to this level
by learning and experience, and superior to other men's
faculties only in degree, not in kind. In large part,
these faculties are predicated on the psychological prem-
ises of English empiricism. The artist is neither re-
garded as prOphet, nor is he applauded for spontaneous
self-expression. His art is conscious, and learning is
regarded as a prerequisite. He is acclaimed for his
ability to create an artistic analogue of "nature" from
which an audience receives both pleasure and knowledge.
The nature of the aesthetic judgment, was one of
the major critical problems throughout the eighteenth
century. With the disregard of the rules and the empha-
sis on "effectiveness," the problem was inevitable. The
central question raised was whether the faculty of
aesthetic judgment resided in the reason or the feelings.
Ru L. Brett claims, "It is not too much to say that the
develOpment of critical theory throughout the eighteenth
century was determined by this question . . . It is a
question that is always in the background and it may be
truly said that the history of eighteenth-century aesthe-
tics is thechronicle of the attempts made to answer it."84

Taste was the term used most frequently in con-

nection with aesthetic judgment. This ambiguous concept

k

84Shaftesbury, p. 136.

57

could mean either "personal preference," or could signify
a "universal standard of judgment."85 In the first sense
it was allied with feeling, in the second, with reason.
The extreme of the first sense meant critical relativism;
the extreme of the second, an agreed-upon set of rational
standards. Shaftesbury's way out of this impasse was by
conceiving of taste in the same manner he conceived of
his "moral sense," i.e., as an innate faculty, partaking
of both reason and the feelings, which immediately per-
ceives and judges beauty in the same way in which the
moral sense immediately perceives and makes moral judg-
ments.86 In fact, he saw the same "sense" Operating in

both. For Shaftesbury, "beauty and goodness are the

same and taste is as much concerned with morals as with

the arts."87

Murphy's concept of taste, a term he frequently
uses, appears to have been borrowed directly from Shaftes-
bury. In one of the Gray's-Inn Journal essays he says,

A taste for the arts is the highest embellishment
and ultimate finishing of an accomplished mind; it

gives an elegance to a man's way of thinking, throws

85Ibid., p. 130.

861bid., p. 132.

87Ibid.

58

a polish on his manners, and by insensible degrees
refines the passions and affections of the soul.

It may be added that a fine taste is the inlet of
some of the most delicate pleasures human life is
succeptible of, and may therefore properly be called,

in the language of Shaftesburian philosophy, the in-

 

ternal sense. By means of this faculty, we are ac-
quainted with many elegant sensations, to which the
generality of men seem entire strangers.88
Here, taste is an innate faculty but one which must be
cultivated if it is to reach its full development. Else-
where, Murphy explicitly connects taste with morality;
a connection that is implicit in most of his criticism.89
For Murphy, the difference between taste and
judgment is the difference between instantaneous percep-
tion and deliberate reflection. Taste combines reason
and feeling; judgment is purely rational. Someone with
only judgment can, after "mature" and "leisurely" de-
liberation, wherein the work of art is compared with
nature, "pronounce the piece to be like, without mani-

festing any particular relish or pleasure. It is not so

with the man of taste. He enters at once into the spirit

88GIJ, No. 44 (1786).

89Monthly Review, LXXIX (July 1788), 82.

 

59

and stile of an author, sees in an instant how he selects
the circumstances in a description, enjoys the turn of
his expression, and his art in touching the passions."90
It apparently never bothered Murphy, nor his contemporaries,
that some of their concepts had a mechanistic basis, and
others, such as this one, were premised on innate, or a
priori, ideas.

One of the more pronounced aspects of Murphy's
criticism, one interwoven with the concept of taste, is
his moral sententiousness. In the later examination of
his theories of the various genres, the tendency to make
literary judgments on the basis of moral standards will
become apparent. A continual recurrence of statements
such as the following will be encountered: "The Author
has not inlisted himself in the Cause of Virtue, nor has
he endeavored, anywhere, to impress a proper Moral on the
Minds of his Auditors";91 "The Truth is, Sir John's Come-
dies are generally too licentious, and Vice is rather
exhibited in an attractive Garb, than in the odious and
forbidden Mien, which it should be the Business of Writers
for the Stage to represent, in order to serve the Pur-

poses of Virtue and good Manners."92

E

9°GIJ, No. 44 (1786).

91London Chronicle, Mar. 29-31, 1757.

 

921bid., Mar. 3-5.

60

This preoccupation with morality, as an important
criterion of literary excellence, appears to have its
genesis in two of the previously discussed premises. The
first, and more obvious, is the common eighteenth—century
supposition that the ultimate end of art is moral instruc-
tion. The second, and perhaps one that has sometimes been
overlooked, is the alliance of taste and morality; the
concept of a collateral moral and aesthetic sense that
immediately perceives the good as well as the beautiful.

Another significant aspect of the emphasis on
"effectiveness" was the concept of the sublime. From
the last quarter of the seventeenth century, when Boileau's

translation of Longinus' Peri Hupsous strongly influenced

 

English criticism, and through the eighteenth century,
sublimity was a paramount aesthetic idea. By 1757, when
Murphy reviewed Burke's A Philosophical Enquiry into the
nggin of Our Ideas of the Sublime and the Beautiful,

'the sublime had developed from a rhetorical concept which
focused on the emotions evoked by a "high" or "grand"
Style, one in which these emotions were seen in terms of
their power to persuade, to an aesthetic concept in which
the emotions were regarded as the source of aethetic
pleasure. However, it had remained one in which the
nature of the sublime was sought in the peculiar charac-
teristics of those objects in art and nature that raised

emotions, until Burke began the movement away from the

61

idea that sublimity depended on qualities residing in the
object, and toward a psychological and physiological in-
vestigation of the aesthetic experience.93
In his review, Murphy takes Burke to task and,
citing both Longinus and Boileau, asserts that sublimity

resides in the object which raises pleasurable emotions:

"The effect of the sublime is, as Longinus has told us,

 

to enlarge the mind with vast conceptions, and to trans-
port it with a noble pleasure beyond itself."94 A few
lines later, he reaffirms this position, "Whatever fills
the mind with magnificant ideas is sublime." For Murphy,
the sublime resides in great thoughts, vast conceptions,
the extraordinary, the astonishing, in almost anything
that arouses strong emotions. And, unlike Burke who
bases his concept on the single emotion of terror, Murphy
claims, "all the other passions, grief, love, rage, in-

dignation, compassion, etc.,"95

as well as terror, to be
associated with the sublime. As an evocative force, the
sublime is immediately perceived. It strikes, it trans-

ports; it is not something that is deliberated and pondered.

93See Samuel Holt Monk, The Sublime (Ann Arbor,
1960), particularly pp. 84-100.

 

94Literary Magazine, XIII (April lS-May 15, 1757),

 

185,

951bid.

62

Often, when Murphy uses the term in his criticism,
he uses it in the earlier rhetorical or stylistic sense.
When he says, "There are many elegant Touches of Poetry
in this Play, and Zanga often rises to the Sublime,"96
or, when analyzing Addison's Cato he singles out "the
Sublime soliloquy in the fifth act,"97 the emphasis is
on the evocative, and in turn morally persuasive, power
of a high or grand style. In this sense, the sublime
consists of an "emotional appeal wedded to loftiness of
thought and expression," one in whiCh, "the fusion of
high feeling and thought imparts to the language an

eloquence that defies analysis."98

In his theatrical
criticism, Murphy uses the sublime as a rhetorical con-

cept to a far greater extent than as an aesthetic one.

 

Most of the premises discussed so far, form the
basis, either explicitly or implicitly, of Murphy's
theories of the various genres and forms. That Murphy
Was particularly interested in delineating the peculiar
Characteristics and provinces of epic, tragedy, and comedy,

Should not be surprising. As René Wellek points out,

¥

96London Chronicle, Feb. 5-8, 1757.

 

97Ibid.

98Brett, Shaftesbury, p. 146.

63

"The distinction between genres was basic to the neoclassi-
cal creed, so basic that its assumptions were never, to

my knowledge, prOperly examined during this time."99 Just
as the earlier neo-classical rules were prescribed in re-
lation to particular genres, the later Neo-Classicism
sought new principles relative to the different genres.

In a sequence of essays in the 1786 Gray's-Inn

 

Journal (Nos. 86-92), in which the basis and provinces
of the various forms are explored. Murphy comes closer
to a systematic exposition of his theories than in any
of his other writings. He begins with the assumption
that, "In order to decide upon the excellence or imper-
fection of any art, it is necessary to know the original
intent and aim of that art, with the various means by
which it accomplishes its designs."100 He goes on to

say, "the author of the essays on characteristics" has

determined that there are "three primary branches of

"101

Composition, poetry, eloquence, and argument. And a

"just coalition of all three forms the consummate beauty

99History, I, 19.

100Until otherwise noted, all quotations are from
GIJ, No. 86 (1786).

101These primary branches and their develoPment

is a rather loose interpretation of, and elaboration on,
Shaftesbury's concept, of. Characteristicks, (London, 1732),
I: 236-240.

64

of fine writing." It would be desirable for criticism to
distinguish "the respective graces of all kinds of writ-
ing. It would enable us to ascertain and fix the proper
criterions by which to judge of the beauties proper to
each different species."

With this goal in mind, Murphy then proceeds to
develop a rather elaborate theory about language and the
rise of the "three modes of writing" which will even—
tually serve as the basis for delineating the particular
provinces of each form. He begins with a theory of lan-
guage that is largely a paraphrase, though somewhat dis-
torted, of Locke:102

Man being a sociable creature, it was necessary,
that certain signs, universally agreed upon, should
be used for the reciprocal conveyance of his ideas.
Sounds, which we call words, were the quickest vehi-
cles, and therefore grew into general use. As the
stock of ideas enlarged, the demand for words became
more extensive: mutual intercourse begat further
acquisition, and language daily increased. That
every distinct idea should be expressed by a term
appropriated to it was altogether impossible. The
mind, therefore, soon found an expedient to supply
its wants. Reason began to compare, to distinguish,

\

1”of. Essay, III, i-iii, 3-32.

65

and separate the various ideas, which had passed
through the senses, and were formed into different
combinations by the power of imagination. A simili-
tude was discovered between various images. It
followed, that things were expressed by borrowed
names on account of a resemblance existing between
them. The term thus transferred was called a papa:
ppgp, and what was thus introduced out of necessity,
became in process of time an absolute luxury.

He then leaves Locke's hypothesis and proceeds to elaborate

on Shaftesbury's concept.103

"The poets, who, it is prob-
able, were the first composers, were soon aware of the
beauty that results from metaphysical expression. They
were to lead mankind from huts and dens to a state of
civilization. By their songs and ballads the imagination
of their hearers was to be seized, and for this purpose
every thing was to be painted forth in the warmest color-
ing." But this idyllic state was temporary: ". . . cities
were multiplied, and states enlarged themselves: artifi-
cial passions began to operate; ambition grasped at power;
and gpyy, jealousy, revenge, and malice, sowed the seeds

of discord, of party and faction." Under these conditions,

control was needed; but, "There was not time for the mea-

sured writer to produce his composition, an immediate

103See n. 101.

66

address was requisite to influence the passions of the
multitude: men of genius came forth, and, destitute of
number, addressed the people in humble prose."

However, in order to influence the passions, the
orator "could not divest himself of all the properties
of poetry," for the "least appearance of design upon
their understandings" would be self—defeating. Thus, the
orator need still "address the imagination" by the con-
tinual use of "ambitious ornaments“ and "gaudy colourings";
but he would use these more sparingly. "The imagination
was addressed as it affords access to the passions. In
this manner eloquence deduced its origin, a less luxuri-
ant kind of peotry, disengaged from regular numbers, but
still filling the ear with harmony, and moulding the pas-
sions in its own end and use."

Finally, as "arts and manufactures increased and
science extended itself, it was not enough that poetry

charmed with its graceful combinations, and that eloquence

 

awakened and agitated the passions; reason began to exert
its influence, to look for utility and truth in every
composition, and stripping away the luxuriances of lavish
description, cooly and dispassionately to consider every
thing that was offered. Hence sprang the didactic, or
the argumentative form."

Thus, the principal intent of poetry is to please

and its appeal is to the imagination. Eloquence addresses

67

the passions and its intent is persuasion. Argument's
province is reason, and its function is to compare,
affirm and negate. Murphy goes on to say, "there are not
in human nature any other inlets of perception, or any
other faculties of sensation, to which the art of a writer
could apply. The imagination, the passions, the reason
are the three springs of composition." However, "men of
refinement and reflection" have perceived, "that the
joint force of all three united, must carry the power of
genius to still a greater degree of perfection." Thus,
"eloquence has learned from poetry to warm and enliven
the imagination: poetry has marked the influence of
eloquence on the passions" and "both have found it neces-
sary to recommend themselves to reason." And reason,
"aware that a mere train of deductions would be too dry,
takes occasion to adorn itself with the flowers of imagi-
nation, and, in some speculation, endeavours to awaken
the passions."

Though, "a concurrence of the primary branches
of writing is requisite in all works of genius," there
is a danger of their encroaching "on each others terri-
tories." To avoid this, it has been the task of criticism
"to fix the boundaries of each kind." The "great masters
Of this art" have taught us to "determine how far one
Ir‘Ode of composition may encroach upon another; and while

it borrows assistance, we know that the just colourings,

68

which belong to the kind, must be always carefully pre-
served." Murphy closes the essay by remarking that the
various types of writing now practiced, "are modes of
poetry, eloquence and argument differently blended."
And an examination of the various blendings will, "per-
haps, enable us to see the peculiar merit of an Epi_
£23m, a Tragedy, or a Comedy." His final statement im-
plies a typical eighteenth-century hierarchy of types,
and a certain lack of regard for the "lesser" kinds, such
as the various lyric forms: "The reader may at his
leasure carry the research into other subordinate branches
of writing."

At the beginning of the next essay, before com—
mencing the examination of the various forms, Murphy ties
his tripartite hypothesis in with Horace's precepts about

the ends of art. Quoting from the Ars Poetica that the

 

aim of poetry, "is to afford at once utility and delight:
to offer what may be agreeable to the fancy, and conduces
to the advantages of human life," and that, "it is not
enough that a poem abounds in beauties; it must find its
way to the heart, and rouze the soul with what passions
it pleases," he points out that this description of the
"leading requisites" of poetry includes the three primary

modes of composition.104 For "to please, to persuade,

 

104GIJ, No. 87 (1786).

69

to instruct," are the ends of poetry, eloquence and
argument.

With this elaborate hypothesis about the origins
of language, the subsequent rise of the primary modes of
composition, and the relation of these modes to generally
accepted premises about the ends of art, Murphy was at-
tempting to evolve literary principles more basic and
more viable than the old rules. These principles would
be founded on "nature"; and, as natural and immutable
laws, they would be good for all time and place and,
thus, avoid the temporal and arbitrary qualities of the
old rules. When he said, "There are not in human nature
any other inlets of perception, or any other faculties
of sensation, to which the art of a writer could apply.
The imagination, the passions, and reason are the three
springs of composition," the appeal was to "nature" as
the source of irreducible literary principles.

This becomes most obvious when, giving the epic
pre-eminence, he begins his examination of the various
forms. He first lists some of the rules of the epic as
laid down by Bossu and others, e.g., one entire action
With a beginning, middle and end, and the necessity of

taking up the story in medias res. Then, he points out

 

the limitations of such an approach:
They have treated largely of the machinery; of the

time the fable should include, with many other

70

particulars, which, though proper to be explained,

do not any way conduce to the refinement of taste,

or the improvement of true genius. These rules, with

many others of equal moment, are no more than obser-

vations upon the practice of great writers; and what

great writers have done, critics have been willing

to convert into a law. Such laws may, in general be

convenient, but they are arbitrary at best. Those

rules only, which are founded upon the inward frame

and constitution of man, can be regarded as permanent,
105

and unalterable.

The reason Murphy gives the epic pre—eminence

among the different forms is that "it affords the freest

and most ample room for a display of the three original

species of writing." The epic writer has the most "un-

bounded latitude." He has the scope for "agreeable ex-

hibitions of nature, to please the imagination"; he may

"take occasion to improve his readers"; and the "whole

art of eloquence is like wise perfectly Open to the epic

author." Murphy avers that all the great epics combine

poetry, eloquence, and argument. However, these are

combined in different prOportions, and Homer appeals more

to the imagination, Virgil to the passions, and Milton to

reason 0

 

105Ibid.

71

There is a touch of irony in Murphy's giving the
epic pre-eminence, for this was the position given it by
the seventeenth-century French critics, whose advocation
of a strict adherence to the rules he is here rejecting.
Aristotle had given tragedy the dominant place. However,
following the logic of his hypothesis about the "natural"
branches of composition and their particular appeals, and
the implicit assumption of the superiority of those forms
which give most latitude to a combination of these ele-
ments, he was forced to concede epic the prominent place
because of its scope. Despite its theoretical pre-eminence,
the epic was honored, by Murphy and by most eighteenth-
century critics, more as an ideal than as an immediate
and active literary form. The century theorized about
the epic, but wrote tragedies and comedies. Murphy com-
mended the epic, but his care and interest was the drama.

Tragedy can claim but second place, for only in

the epic can "the powers of genius, such as imagination,

 

eloquence, and reason," be executed in their full force.106

Tragedy "comes before the eye," which is both its limita-
tion and its power. A reader can be held with "florid
imagery" but not an auditor. Hence, "in the regions of

fancy," the appeal to the imagination, the drama "must

 

106GIJ, NO. 89 (1786).

72

yield to the epic." But, "in the art of eloquence and
in all applications to our reason, tragedy can boast full
room for the most vigorous exertion." The chief reason
it can so powerfully affect the passions is precisely be-
cause it is visual, performed. Acting, "serves to render
the touches of the writer more striking, and more feeling-

ly expressive."107

In the terms of Murphy's tripartite
distinction, tragedy appeals most to the passions and
comedy to the reason.

The end of tragedy is to arouse, "hOpe, joy,
terror, and pity, which are the true Tragic Passions."108
But the ultimate goal of appealing to the passions, is,
of course, moral instruction: "We are taught by the
catastrophe to avoid the errors that involve the agents
in certain.ruin, and to pursue the road that leads to

109

happiness." Tragedy, "addresses itself to our humanity:

It is the school of virtue, in which we exercise the

tender and generous affections."110

Since a just imitatiqn of nature is a necessity
in "affecting" an audience, there are some rules, "which

our modern writers would do well to take into consideration,

107Ibid.

108London Chronicle, Mar. 12-15, 1757.

 

109Life of Garrick, II, 165.

 

110GIJ, No. 76 (1786).

73

if they wish to form a regular, a probable, and a co-

herent plot."111

In this matter of structure, Murphy
recommends following Scaliger's "idea of the constituent
parts of tragedy," which, he feels, is a more thorough
delineation than Aristotle's "beginning, middle, and
end." According to Murphy, Scaliger's four basic requi-
sites are: Protasis (the "opening of the business,"
introduction of characters, and necessary antecedent

transactions); Epitasis (the "working up of the plot to

a state of perplexity and impending danger" ; Catastisis

 

(the "full growth of the fable"); Ey§i§_(the "solution of

the Gordian knot").112
Murphy's concept of tragedy, with its emphasis

on effectiveness, has the advantage of being able to en-

compass non-classic types such as domestic tragedy. It

allows him to say of Otway's The Orphan, "the Story shews

 

us how greatly those critics are mistaken, who insist
that the subject of Tragedy should always be some illus-
trious Action depending among great and exalted person-

113

ages"; or to champion Lillo, "who made the distress of

domestic life as interesting as the events that have

 

111Life of Garrick, I, 260.

 

112Ibid., 254-260.

113London Chronicle, Mar. 8-10, 1757.

74

attended heroes and unfortunate kings."114 However, his

hypothesis of the primary modes of composition each ap-
pealing to different faculties, imagination, reason, and
the passions, rules out tragicomedy as an acceptable form.
For the duality of this form lessened both the effect on
the passions, which was the particular province of the
eloquence of tragedy, and on the reason, which was the
province of comedy. The mixing of forms defeats the ends
of each.

Though tragedy and epic fill the first two places
in Murphy's examination of forms, they are given these
positions mostly out of convention: his acceptance of
common eighteenth-century assumptions about the hierarchy
of genres. The form he devoted most time to, both as a
critic and an author, was comedy. His reputation as a
dramatist rests on his comedies. And, if he is to re-
ceive attention for other than his practical criticism,
it will probably be as a theorist of comedy.

Though comedy was the paramount dramatic form of
the eighteenth century, critical theory was devoted mostly
to tragedy and epic. J. W. Draper, in what is still a
standard survey of eighteenth-century comic theory,
claims, that despite a greater interest in theorizing

about epic and tragedy, there was nevertheless a considerable

 

114Life of Garrick, I, 232.

 

75

corpus of comic theory.115 However, this corpus was dis-

prOportionately small in comparison with the body devoted
to tragedy and epic. Out of approximately a dozen writers
cited by Draper in his attempt to ascertain the prevailing
concepts, Murphy is referred to nine times. And the only
source Draper seems to have used for Murphy's statements

about comedy was the Gray's-Inn Journal. When Murphy's

 

statements in the London Chronicle, the Monthly Review,

 

 

and the lives of Garrick, Johnson, and Fielding, are also

taken into account along with those from the Gray's-Inn

 

Journal, he appears to have given more constant considera-
tion to comic theory than almost any other eighteenth-
century critic.

The central problem of comedy.in the eighteenth
century, one that Murphy attempted to solve both as a
dramatist and a critic, was to unite the excellence and
power of Restoration comedy with the moral utility posited
by eighteenth-century theory.

Every Age has a peculiar Characteristic to distin-
guish it: the last Century was remarkable for a
comic Genius, which sometimes run out into unwar-
rantable Luxuriances, and a Breach of Manners; the
present Times have acquired a politer Taste, but

cannot produce any work of Theatrical Humour. The

 

115John W. Draper, "The Theory of the Comic in
Eighteenth-Century England," JEGP, XXXVII (1938), 208.

76

former transgressed through an Excess of Vigour;
the latter are decent, but they have that kind of
Decency which arises from a Want of Power, rather
than of Will.116
This dichotomy appears to have been the stimulus for
Murphy's continual investigation into the sources of
comedy; his attempts to isolate those elements which
produce the effects we call comic, and to define the
particular provinces of comedy. He sought those com-
ponents that would provide, powerfully and forcefully,
pleasurable and morally persuasive comedy.

In the sequence of essays on the primary modes of
composition and their relationship to the different forms,
he begins his discussion of comedy by pondering why com-
edy is not recognized as an achievement equalling epic

and tragedy.117

He supposes it is because comedy deals
with "known and familiar" ideas and therefore meets with
"less indulgence," for everyone thinks he can judge of
the familiar. But, he argues, a "just portrait" of the
familiar is a difficult achievement. It requires, "as
fine and as lively an imagination as any of the other

imitative arts." Comedy is only one of the imitative

arts, hence, as is true of the others, a "just imitation

g

116GIJ, No. 50 (1756).

11761.1, No. 90 (1786).

77

of nature" is one of its basic premises. Imitation of
nature is one of Murphy's two central comic premises and,
as will be seen later, many of his important distinctions
rest on this premise.

He is appealing to "nature" as an aesthetic norm
when he says, "The trick of an embarrassed fable and
perplexed incidents is worn threadbare. To see the per-
sons of the drama merely the sport of chance, of accidents,
and of mistakes, may divert in pantomime, but something
of more value is expected in comedy. We go to the theatre

118 Imitation

to see manners as they exist in society."
of nature, in the case of comedy, means imitation of man-
ners, of common life, of probable incidents and resolutions
that follow logically. "We have often said, and we repeat
it, that comedy is an imitation of human life. The author
who gives anything else, may divert the upper gallery with
inexplicable noise, with bustle, business and turns and
counterturns of adventure; but he departs from his art,
and is no poet."119
What is called "business," a term that Murphy

often uses in his criticism when dealing with comedy, are

those turns, incidents and actions that hold an audience's

 

118Monthly Review, LXXVI (Jan. 1787), 81.

 

119Monthly Review, LXXIX (Oct. 1788), 371.

 

78

attention and that should move the plot forward to reso-
lution. "Business" is a structural necessity if a comedy
is to hold and affect an audience. However, "Business"
can be a writer's trick, something by which he holds an
audience's attention where there is no substance. Hence,
as a critical term, Murphy often uses it in this deroga—
tory sense. In its best sense, "business" complements
the principal action and does not in itself become the
point of focus. "In every comedy there should be a
principal action, and all episodic, or inferior concerns,
should move with that; sometimes crossing, accelerating,
or retarding the main event; and all either having an in-
fluence on that event, or brought to a conclusion by it."120
But imitation of nature goes beyond the probable
incidents and logical resolutions of structure. It is
inextricably interwoven with Murphy's other central con-
cept, "ridicule," and with his concept of the "humours."
And these are involved with the portrayal of character,
which is the essence of comedy. Comedy is that, "pro-
vince of the drama, in which the manners are the main
object. The poet of genius, who wishes to shew himself
a master in his art, makes it his study to exhibit the
turns and windings of the inward frame; the temper of the

man; the foibles that warp and distort his conduct; and

120Monthly Review, LXXVIII (May 1788), 371.

 

79

the humours that gather to a head, and render him odd,
extravagant, and eccentric."121
In Murphy's search for pleasurable and useful
comedy, ridicule becomes the mainspring of his comic
theory. If comedy is to be morally instructive, it must
first give pleasure by appealing to, and raising, those
passions or emotions which are its particular province.
Murphy posits contempt and laughter as the comic emotions,
and ridicule as their effective cause.
In his theory of the primary sources of composi-
tion and their particular appeals, he views ridicule as,
a mode of eloquence, i.e., a rhetorical device affecting
the passions.
The comic writer, as well as the tragedian, must

derive his force from the primary sources of com—

position: he must seize our imaginations with strik-

 

ing pictures of human life; he must instruct our
reason by inserting sensible observations on the
manners of the world; and he must frequently apply
himself to those passions, which it is the merit of
his art to awaken. In the last-mentioned particular

consists the beauty of a well wrought comedy.122

121Life of Garrick, II, 169.

 

122Until otherwise noted, all quotations are from
EEE,N°° 90 (1786).

80

Both the tragic and the comic poet then, must select the
special mode of eloquence that will arouse those passions
which are the province of his particular art. And ridi-
cule is the agent of the comic passions: "Ridicule, by
which comedy works, is as much a mode of eloquence, as
the several arts of persuasion, and the several figures,
which rhetoric has reduced into a system for the excite-
ment of the more serious passions."

Murphy then attempts to find out the source of
ridicule. He is surprised that, "neither Aristotle,
Tully nor Quintilian, has given a just and adequate def-
inition of ridicule." Fielding had "thrown some light
upon the matter" in his preface to Joseph Andrews when he
placed its source in affectation. But, Murphy argues,
this is too limited an approach, for the ridiculous
"may be found where there is no affectation at the bot-
tom," and cites Parson Adams as an example. He thinks

Akenside in his On the Pleasures of the Imagination has

 

given the clearest definition: "the ridiculous always
arises from repugnant qualities, ill-paired and blended
together."

What is important to Murphy's "affective" theory
is that the ridiculous is not simply a matter of perceiv-
ing and comparing incongruous qualities. If this were so,
the appeal would be to reason rather than the passions.

It is here Akenside lends his greatest support, and

81

Murphy quotes: "The sensation of ridicule is not a bare
perception of the agreement or disagreement of ideas, but
a passion or emotion of the mind consequential to that
perception." And, Murphy asserts, "the emotions here
intended are laughter and contempt, and these it is the
business of comedy to excite." Thus, the perception of
the ridiculous, a blending of repugnant and incongruous
qualities, produces sensations that arouse the prOper
comic emotions: laughter and contempt.

Ridicule, as a mode of eloquence, or rhetorical
device, that raised the proper comic emotions, was ulti-
mately an agent of moral correction. Murphy, in common
with many, viewed ridicule as an instrument of reform.
It had the power to correct the vices and follies that
were held up to it. But, in Murphy's theory, unless the
passions were affected, that is, unless the audience re-
ceived pleasure, was entertained,.comedy would not be
morally persuasive. That it is only "by placing the
humours and foibles of human nature in a ridiculous
light, that the true comic force is created," led Murphy
to an examination of the proper subjects of comedy, to
seek out those characteristics that are properly ridicu-
lous. It is in this examination that his two central
premises, imitation of nature and ridicule, come together.

"In producing portraits of mankind, it is not

enough to disPlay foibles and oddities: a fine vein of

82

ridicule must run through the whole, to urge the mind to
laughter." For Murphy, the danger of displaying only
foibles and oddities, is that one chances exhibiting

only "disagreeable characters" without entertaining.

The presentation of only "humorists" does not "furnish

an agreeable entertainment." He sees this as a particular
failing of the "humours theory" of comedy. He points out
that Ben Jonson sometimes fails to entertain because of
his tendency to "draw deformity"; and, quoting Dennis,
adds, "Jonson is so eager to pursue folly, that he for-
gets to take wit along with him.‘123 Murphy cites Shad-
well as another example of this tendency: "His plays
exhibit Bartholomew-fair characters. He might say in the
title-page of every one of them, 'Walk in and see the
Monster.'"

However, the representation of "humours" is still
important to the "best of comedies." The distinction
Murphy wishes to make is between natural and unnatural
characters. The display of only "humorists" is not a
just imitation of nature. One cannot just present, "a
set of characters, in themselves absurd, and under the
dominion of some predominant humour, without one person

among them of sober manners." This would not be

 

123Until otherwise noted, all quotations are
from GIJ, No. 91 (1786).

83

entertaining. For, "in the usual course of life," which
is the province of comedy, a set of such characters, un-
leavened by others of "common sense and common honesty,"
is seldom encountered. A second, and minor point, is
that without balance the charm of contrast is lost.
Since the representation of "humours" remains an
important comic element, Murphy's task is to define that
quality in human actions which the "best critics" have
named “humour," and to ascertain in what way it is a
proper subject of comedy. Acknowledging Jonson as his
basic source, he says "humour" as applied to the mind,
is a metaphysical expression of the bodily humours. And
just as one of the bodily humours predominates and thus
influences the natural temper, "when some quality,
opinion, prejudice, or absurdity, doth possess the gen-
eral cast and frame of thought, as to draw to it the
spirits, the affections, and ideas, out of their prOper
course, so as to make them run one way:. that may be said

to be a mental humour."

 

Carrying the metaphor further, he points out that
when a humour in the body causes minor imbalances an "al-
terative" is applied. Hence, when an individual, "has a
particular cast of thought, that warps his imagination,
and breaks out in distorted, odd, and irregular sentiments,
or actions, not immediately attended with danger," an

"alterative of ridicule" is called for. A mental humour

84

is, "a disease of the mind, that does not rise to vice
or criminality, demanding only the correction of
ridicule."

But a mental humour must be more than just a
primary source of the ridiculous, a fit subject for ridi-
cule. It must be such that its portrayal is a just imi-
tation of nature.

It is not enough that the author has somewhere seen
it in real life: it should be of such extensive in-
fluence, as to constitute a species. We then acknow-
ledge it to be a character drawn from life. Our
pleasure arises from comparing the c0py with the
original, and the truth of imitation is sure to give

delight. I shall only add, that though the humorist,

 

when faithfully delineated, is the richest entertain-
ment the poet can offer, yet comedy may well subsist
without any such character. There are in life a suf-
ficient number of follies, which, though they do not
rise high enough to deserve the.uame of humour, are
the prOper quarry of the comic writer, and demand

the lash of ridicule. He, it is true, who exhibits
genuine humours will always bid fairest for success:
he shows the deepest insight into the inward frame,
and by displaying the ridiculous in the strongest
colouring, gratifies that love of laughter, which is

the first principle of comedy.

85

The premises Of ridicule and imitation of nature
are the distinguishing marks between true comedy and
sentimental comedy, between comedy and farce. Farce is
entertaining, it often uses the lash Of ridicule and, in
so doing, is morally instructive. However, though farce
partakes Of ridicule it is never a just imitation Of
nature. "Farce cannot be deemed an exact and legitimate
species Of the drama; it delights in exaggeration, and,
in every portrait, enlarges the features beyond their
true proportion; instead of real character, it gives an
overcharged caricature; but the strong colouring has its
moral use, and by the power Of well-directed ridicule
contributes to the good Of society."124

Sentimental comedy was the Opposite side Of the
coin. It was Often a just imitation Of nature but had
not the power and force Of ridicule. J. Homer Caskey
has pointed out that, "It was Murphy who most persistently,
from the sixth to the last decade Of the eighteenth cen-
tury, led the fight against sentimental comedy."125
Murphy's most cogent statement, one that may serve asai

summary Of his position on sentimental comedy, follows

his essay on ridicule. Here, he takes the critics of

 

124Life Of Garrick, II, 169.

 

125"Arthur Murphy and the War on Sentimental
Comedy," JEGP, XXX (1931), 576.

86

his time to task for their failure to recognize ridicule
as essential to comedy, and their supposition that imita-
tion Of nature provides a sufficient basis for comedy.
A faithful draught of the manners, and the general
characters, in the course Of civil life, is suffi-
cient to answer their idea Of comedy. Should the
several persons, represented in the drama, be in
their conduct correct and regular, Of amiable man-
ners, and upon all occasions governed by principles
Of honour and virtue, such pieces, in their judgment,
may be considered as legitimate. To this notion it
is that we owe that new fangled species Of the drama,
called sentimental or pathetic comedy. . . . Compo-
sitions Of this kind, while they give a transcript
from real life, may claim their share Of praise; but
. whether the mass of mankind affords, with probability,
those select groups Of virtuous characters, may be
questioned. Persons, whose minds are warped by folly,
diseased by humour, or tainted with vice, are, I be-
lieve, more frequently seen. This is the condition
of life, and it is from the Obvious manners Of the
world that the writer Of comedy professes to copy.126
(And, as has already been seen, it is those persons warped

by folly and tainted with vice who are the primary source

Of the ridiculous.

—_

126GIJ, NO. 91 (1786).

87

Murphy's comic theory came close to bridging the
gulf between the power and force Of the Restoration comedy
of wit and manners and the moral utility of his own age.
By positing ridicule as the effective cause Of the comic
emotions, his theory retained for comedy the correction
Of vice and folly. And by insisting on a just imitation
Of nature, and by defining this as the good leavened with
the bad, vice balanced with virtue, the probable rather
than the exceptional, he avoided the one-sided portrayal
Of intrigue and licentiousness Of which Restoration comedy

was accused.

 

The final premises to be dealt with here, ones
not usually a factor in the work Of most critics but an
essential element in Murphy's, are those concerning
acting. By the 1750's Garrick and Macklin had made
natural acting the dominant style, but the transition
from the "exaggerated" school Of Colley Cibber, Robert
Wilks and Barton Booth was by no means complete.127 The
performances Of James Quin, the last great proponent of
the exaggerated style, and those of a number Of lesser

actors continued to be held in high regard. The books

and essays on acting popular in the period reflect the

127For information about the various "schools" Of
acting in this period I am indebted to Downer, "Acting."

88

transition. Though they generally agree that natural
acting is the preferable mode, there is not consistent
agreement about the methods for achieving such a style.
John Hill, for example, in his treatise on the
art Of playing, advocates a balance between the stateli-
ness and dignity of the Old style and the liveliness and
animation Of natural acting with its ability tO affect
forcefully the emotions Of an audience. He lists the
commonly-held requirements Of an actor as understanding,
sensibility, fire, good figure, and gaiety Of temper in
comedians, but more importantly, he maintains that acting
can be methodized: "The intent Of this treatise is to
shew what acting truly is; to reduce to rules a science
hitherto practiced almost entirely from the fancy." He
argues that, "Genius, we hear men say, is all; playing
is not to be acquired by study: As it is the representa-
tion of human life, they say it ought to be the sole
production Of nature; and that to give it rules, is to
take from it all its spirit, But this is error."128 For
Hill, few actors possess the "discernment" and "under-
standing" tO "represent properly" the ideas Of the poet;
it is when they attempt solely to follow nature rather
than established methods that they are most likely tO be

guilty Of both misrepresentation and "bombast."

 

128The Actor; or a Treatise on the Art of Playing
(London, 1755), pp. 1 and 5.

89

Aaron Hill's approach is almost diametrically
Opposed tO John Hill's. His emphasis is on the study of
"nature," particularly the inward workings and outward
manifestations Of the various passions. The actor must
actually feel the passion if he is to portray it con-
vincingly: "TO act a passion well, the actor never must
attempt its imitation, 'till his fancy has conceived so
strong an image, or idea Of it, as tO move the same im-
pressive springs within his mind, which form that passion,
when 'tis undesigned, and natural." For him, "This is an
absolutely necessary, and the only general rule." Though
he spends the remainder of his essay cataloguing the dif-
ferent facial and muscular reactions, the "outward marks"
that communicate the "ten dramatic passions" upon which
all others are only variations, he always returns to his
primary rule that the imagination must first conceive "a
strong impression of the passion." All else follows from
this, for "an idea cannot be strongly conceived without
impressing its own form upon the muscles Of the face.
Nor can the lOOk be muscularly stamp'd, without communi-
cating, instantly, the same impression, to the muscles
Of the body. The muscles Of the body, must, in their
natural, and not to be avoided consequence, by impelling
or retarding the flow of the animal spirits, transmit

their own conceived sensation, to the sound Of the voice,

90

and to the disposition Of the gesture."129

Given the central premises Of Murphy's literary
criticism, "imitation Of nature" and "effectiveness," it
is not surprising tO find his approach to acting similar
to Aaron Hill's. TO advocate any mode Of acting other
than a "natural" one based on a faithful portrayal Of the
passions would violate Murphy's fundamental critical ideas.
It is not simply that stylized acting is the antithesis
Of a faithful representation Of nature. But as imitation

Of nature is a sinegua non for eliciting the pleasurable

 

emotional responses that conduce to learning, so stylized
acting leads toward the Opposite effect. It tends to dis-
tance the audience from the drama, to create a detachment
that seldom allows the audience to forget they are only
Observers. As in much Of his criticism, Murphy does not
make completely clear the link between imitation and ef-
fectiveness but it is implied when he says, "The skilful
performer imitates the voice Of nature: he speaks the
130

same simple and affective language"; or Of Mrs. Cibber

in Jane Shore, "There is such a Wildness Of Exértion in

 

her Powers, and such lively Description in her Countenance

as almost make the Audience afraid the Roof is coming down,

129"An Essay on the Art Of Acting," in Works (Lon-
don, 1754), IV, 339 and 340.

13061.1, NO. 89 (1786).

91

when she falls on the Ground and still seems to shrink
lower to avoid the Beam, which her distracted imagina-
tion makes her think is falling upon her."131
In much Of his commentary on acting, Murphy con-
centrates on imitation Of nature. More Often than not,
his statements are of a general kind: "Mrs. Pritchard
gave a specimen Of the most natural acting that had ever
been seen. She did not appear tO be conscious Of an audi-
ence before her: she seemed to be a gentlewoman in domes-
tic 1ife, walking about in her own parlour, in the deepest

132 And, "The

distress, and overwhelmed with misery."
composure Of his Manner, and the Tones Of his Voice, taken
exactly from Nature, are truly Comic, without any Stage
Trick, or over-acted Pleasantry."133 However, in the
places where he gives a detailed description of a perfor-
mance, Murphy paints a more vivid picture and tells us
more about what was meant by "imitation Of nature" than
any theatrical critic of the period: "It was in Lear's
madness that Garrick's genius was remarkably distinguished.
He had no sudden starts, no violent gesticulation; his

movements were slow and feeble; misery was depicted in

his countenance; he moved his head in the most deliberate

 

131London Chronicle, Mar. 19-22, 1757.

 

132Life Of Garrick, I, 234.

 

133London Chronicle, Feb. 12-15, 1757.

 

92

manner; his eyes were fixed, or, if they turned to anyone
near him, he made a pause, and fixed his lOOk on the per-
son after much delay; his features at the same time telling
what he was going tO say, before he uttered a word. During
the whole time he presented a sight Of woe and misery,

and a total alienation Of mind from every idea, but that
134

Of his unkind daughters."

In the Gray's-Inn Journal (NO. 4, 1754) Murphy

 

devoted an essay to the art Of acting; here, he set forth
the concepts Of acting that underlie his theatrical criti-
cism. He began by saying that "the Precept" which Horace
has "laid down for the good Writer," the "close and steady
Observance Of Men and Manners" and the drawing from this
source Of "exact Resemblance and the true Language of
Nature," is also the "best Rule for an Actor; for both

are Professors Of imitative Arts." An actor must Observe
and imitate the habits and actions of the various social
classes, but to these "external Circumstances Of Carriage
must be joined a close and intimate Knowledge Of the
humaaneart; its most secret Movements must be unfolded,
and the Actor must be thoroughly acquainted with their
minutest Effects upon the human Body, in what Proportion
they agitate the Nerves and Muscles; how they impress

the Features with their respective Signatures, elevate or

 

134Life Of Garrick, I, 27-28.

 

93

contract the Brow, brace or relax the Sinews and command
the Attitude and Disposition Of the whole Person." Here,
and in the assertion that each passion has its particular
"Adjuncts, its own Air, its own LOOk, and its own proper
Tone," Murphy seems tO be considerably influenced by
Aaron Hill's work.

Like Hill, Murphy continually returns to the cen-
tral idea Of studying the workings of the mind. Once an
actor has learned to distinguish the "Nature and Boundaries
Of each Affection," he must study the "various Shiftings
and Veerings Of the Soul" and "Observe how the several
Passions rise and fall in quick Vicissitude." He must
"perceive minutely" the "very Point" where one passion
succeeds another. The most difficult to portray are what
Murphy calls "thwarting Passions," the "frequent occasions
in which the Breast is distracted by two different Passions
at once, both working the Heartstrings in one mixed Emo-
tion." These are the province Of only the great actor,
for they are Often "imperceptible" tO even a "skilful
Observer" and their portrayal is the height Of the actor's
art: "To express these complicated Sensations, where
several Passions at once agitate the Soul, requires such
aCommand Of Countenance and Voice, that it is certainly
the greatest Perfection Of an Actor, and with a Kind Of
magic Power it always leads an Audience into the most

pleasing Distress."

94

Though he advocated the study and imitation Of
the passions as the most important element in an actor's
development, Murphy never attempted tO methodize the
portrayal Of the affections as many critics did. From
his own experience as an actor he had learned that even
the best understanding and insight could raise an actor
only to the level Of competence; that the great performer
possessed qualities that were ultimately ineffable. He
paid Garrick the highest tribute when he said that it
was virtually impossible to describe what made Garrick
so great as an actor. Others had an adequate understand-
ing Of the passions and Often had superior physical at-
tributes, but Garrick's "imagination Was so strong and
powerful, that he transformed himself into the man he
represented, and his sensibility was so quick, that
every sentiment took immediate possession Of him. Before
he uttered a word, the varying passions began to work,
and wrought such rapid changes in his features, in his
action, his attitudes, and the expression of his eye,

that he was, almost every moment, a new man."135

 

As a theorist in his own right, except where

comedy was concerned, there is little to be said for

 

135Life Of Garrick, II, 177.

 

95

Murphy. His ideas were, in general, derivative. However,
he was aware of and contended with the major critical
concerns Of the period. Doing so, gave his practical
criticism a solid theoretical foundation. That a co-
herent and well thought out body Of theory underlies
their criticism, cannot be claimed for many newspaper
and periodical writers. When Murphy uses the ambiguous
terms that so cloud the criticism Of his time, he has
definite concepts in mind. And though it is Often im-
plicit rather than explicit, his appeal, as much as is
possible, is always to precendent, to premises about the
nature and ends Of his subject, to aesthetic norms,
rather than tO personal impressions or individual taste
as the basis Of criticism.

His writings on comedy warrant more than the
cursory survey given them here. By mid-century the
theory that comedy was a satirical art, "an art that
shows peOple what to do by representing them on the stage
doing what they should not," had almost given away tO the

136 The transition is

idea Of "sympathetic laughter."
reflected in Murphy's work. Though he continued tO regard
comedy as an agent Of moral correction, his efforts to

ascertain the prOper subjects Of ridicule reveal that he

 

136Stuart M. Tave, The Amiable Humorist (Chicago,
1960), p. 47.

 

96

shared the prevailing concern for the misuse Of this
weapon. Like Corbyn Morris, and probably to some extent
under the influence Of Morris' work, Murphy appears to
have been trying to strike a balance between satire and
sympathetic laughter in his careful distinction between
ridicule and raillery, and in his Opinion that a one-
sided portrayal Of "humorists" Often elicits contempt or
disgust instead of the pleasurable responses that should
be the province of comedy.137 When the impotence Of
comedy that relies solely on sentiment, good nature, and
good humor is considered, Murphy's attempts to moderate
the excesses yet preserve the forcefulness Of Restoration
comedy seem a felicitous compromise between the Old and
new theories.

If only mediocre as a theorist, as a practical
critic Murphy was exceptional. His work in the London

Chronicle was the best series Of theatrical criticisms

 

 

 

 

in the century.138 In many ways his Chronicle pieces
were sui generis. Quantitatively, not until late in
137

An Essay towards Fixing the True Standards Of
Wit Humour, Raillery, Satire, and Ridicule (1744), ed.
J. . i fOrd, Augustan Reprint Society, Series I, NO.
4 (Ann Arbor, 1947), pp. 34-38.

 

138For much Of the following information about
theatrical criticism in the periodicals Of this era I am
indebted to: Gray, Theatrical Criticism; Graham, En lish
Periodicals; Donald E. Keesey, "Dramatic Criticism in the
Gentleman's Ma azine, 1747-1784" (Ph.D. diss., Michigan
State Univ., 1364).

 

 

97

the century can such a sustained series be found. Quali-
tatively, the series was unsurpassed until the early
nineteenth-century work Of Leigh Hunt and William Hazlitt.
Most Of the publications devoted to theatrical matters
that preceded Murphy's Chronicle criticisms were tOO short-
lived tO provide any comparison. This state Of affairs
persisted until well after the 1750's. The few that had
lengthy runs, such as Steele's Theatre and Aaron Hill's
Prompter, in actuality gave only a portion Of their space
tO theatrical matters. Steele, in fact, after the first
few issues seldom dealt with drama. Hill's theatrical
essays, particularly those on acting, were the most im-
portant precursors Of Murphy's work; however, almost half

Of the issues Of The Prompter were given over tO essays

 

Of a general nature. Few Of the numerous periodicals

modeled on the Spectator and the Tatler devoted more than

 

an occasional essay to the theatre. Murphy's Gray's-Inn

 

Journal was the exception, and even here only a relatively
small number Of essays were concerned with the drama.

Newspapers, magazines such as the Gentleman's and

 

the London, and literary reviews like the Monthly and the

Critical did print a good deal Of dramatic criticism. A

 

number Of the reviews found in these publications are ex-
cellent. But they appeared sporadically and were the
work Of various writers; hence, their quality was extremely

uneven and a sustained series by a single author infrequent.

98

Most Of the criticism in the magazines and literary re-
views treated drama as literature and seldom acknowledged
the distinction between the closet and the stage that is
so important tO a just evaluation Of a play. Though these
publications at times concerned themselves with acting,
Often it was in relation tO books and essays on this art
rather than to performances or particular actors. The
form Of most Of the dramatic criticism found in these
periodicals left much tO be desired. Though it Often
varied from review to review even within a given publi-
cation, in general it consisted Of a plot summary, speci-
mens of dialogue, and critical comments. Sometimes the
comments were interspersed, Often they were simply tacked
on the end. Except in the best criticism, the reviewer
commented on individual blemishes or merits and did not
proffer the principles upon which he based his judgments.
Murphy's excellence as a theatrical critic does
not rest On a handful Of brilliant analyses that trans-
cend the usual views Of his age. On the contrary, as
the examination of his premises has shown, most Of his
Opinions are the ones generally expected from a literate
critic Of this period. What does set him apart is his
ability tO comment lucidly and knowledgeably in paper
after paper on a wide variety Of plays, and to communi-
cate vividly a sense of the actual performances. His

detailed descriptions Of acting alone raise him above the

99

mass Of theatrical critics. Though criticism in general
at this time was beginning to focus on character rather
than fable, Murphy's analyses Of the psychological moti-
vations Of various dramatic characters are some of the
earliest and most illuminating. The unique structure
that he makes use Of in the Theatre essays, background,
analysis, and commentary on acting, is far superior to
the paraphrase-example-comment pattern Of most Of his
contemporaries, and heralds modern newspaper and periodi-
cal practice. Most important, he is one Of the first
English critics to remind his readers continually that
drama is a live art, that "what the players call business"
can make a work with small literary merit extremely en-
tertaining in the theatre, and that the converse is also
true. If this sounds like the most Obvious commonplace,
most readers need only consider their own education in
the drama to realize how seldom such distinctions really
are made. It marks Murphy as a superb theatrical critic

in an era Of competent drama critics.

III

INTRODUCTION TO THE TEXT

In the London Chronicle for Jan. 18-20, 1757,

 

there appeared a letter, signed "Tragicomicus," Offering
to undertake a regular series Of theatrical criticisms
and asking that space and the title, The Theatre, be re-

139 The letter was followed by

served for such pieces.
thirty-seven unsigned essays under this heading, beginning

in the Jan. 20-22 issue Of the Chronicle and ending, near

 

the close Of the 1756-57 theatrical season, with the April
14-16 issue. The thirty-seven essays were numbered con-
secutively 1 through 34 with the numbers 24, 25, and 30
being repeated, though there was no repetition Of the
essays. The repetition of the numbers has no bearing on
the attribution Of this first series Of essays to one
writer: for the second NO. 30 appeared at a time when

the theatres were closed and continued an examination

briefly introduced in the first NO. 30 Of the influence

 

139TO aid the reader in following the attribution
argument, a list Of all the Theatre papers and introductory
letters printed in the 1757-58 London Chronicle has been
placed in Appendix B.

100

101

of Jonson's Every Man in his Humour on Hoadly's Suspicious

 

 

Husband; and the first Nos. 24 and 25 were so short as~
to be little more than announcements Of performances,
hence, were Obviously tOO inconsiderable to be regarded
as regular essays.

The following fall, almost two months into the
1757-58 season, a letter signed "Th.C.," regretting the
absence Of the previous year's critic, containing speci-
mens of the letter writer's abilities as a critic, and
offering to replace the former writer as a regular con-

tributor, appeared in the Nov. 26-29 Chronicle. The

 

subsequent issue contained criticisms under the heading,

The Theatre NO. 1, and though unsigned, appears to be

 

the work Of the letter writer, "Th.C." The Dec. 3-6,

6-8, and 8-10 issues included Theatres NO. 1 through 3

 

with the author Of the second NO. 1 taking "Th.C." tO
task for his inadequacies as a critic. The last essay
Of this series was signed, "Philomuse."

NO more theatrical criticisms are found in the

London Chronicle until the fall of 1758, when a new

 

Theatre series began with the Oct. 3-5 issue. Once again
the essays were unsigned, and this time they were not
preceded by a letter Of introduction. After an hiatus

Of two weeks, Theatre NO. 7 was printed in the Nov. 7-9
issue. It was introduced by a letter, signed "N.S.,"

regretting the sudden departure Of the previous critic

102

and Offering to replace him. Theatres NO. 8-11 followed

 

until Nov. 18-21 when, concomitant with NO. 11, the last
Of the series, there appeared a letter, signed "Atticus,"
attacking the theatre critics for their tendency toward
panegyric rather than discrimination and Offering to
supply some future essays. Nothing further appeared

until Dec. 2-5 when the Chronicle printed an unnumbered

 

Theatre piece again signed, "Atticus." This was followed
by three more unnumbered Theatre papers, though unsigned
ostensibly by "Atticus," with the last occurring in the
Dec. 19-21 issue.

All of the series have been claimed, by one
scholar or another, for Arthur Murphy. There is little
doubt that Murphy was the "Tragicomicus" who initiated
and wrote the longest and most important series, the
thirty-seven essays that appeared in the winter and
spring Of 1757. Howard Dunbar, C. H. Gray, Arthur Sherbo
and John Pike Emery, with varying degrees Of assurance,
concur in the attribution Of these essays to Murphy.140

The major piece Of external evidence is Samuel Johnson's

letter, quoted in Boswell's Life, concerning his

 

14oSince much Of the attribution argument will be
concerned with Gray, Theatrical Criticism, pp. 128-142,
Dunbar, Dramatic Career, pp. 38-40, 56-60, 305-10, Sherbo,
New Essays, pp. 75-78, and Emery "Murphy's Criticisms in
the London Chronicle," PMLA, LIV (1939), 1099-1104, page
references to these works will be inserted parenthetically
within the text.

 

103

proposals for an edition Of Shakespeare.141 These pro-

posals were printed in Theatre NO. 33 (actually the thirty-
sixth essay) with "splendid encomiums" by, Johnson be-
lieved, his friend Arthur Murphy. Dunbar (p. 38) also

cites the anonymous author Of A Letter to M. deVOltaire:

 

With Contemporary Descants on the . . . Desert Island as

 

believing that Murphy had written for the London Chron-

 

Given this Opening wedge, the case from here is
built on convincing similarities between the Theatre essays
and Murphy's other writings, and on the internal evidence
that the thirty-seven essays were the work Of a single
writer. The arguments for Murphy's authorship Of the
first series have been cogently set forth in the places
noted and Dunbar provides a sufficient summary Of them:

Murphy, according tO the evidence Of Dr. Johnson,

wrote one Of these essays, and he probably wrote all

Of those in the first group. Their general organiza-
tion is similar; their critical comment is never
contradictory and Often shows close resemblance; the
Opinions set forth generally agree with those Murphy
expresses elsewhere; and they Often refer to criticisms

in preceding numbers and promise forthcoming criticisms

 

141Ed. G. B. Hill, rev. L. F. Powell (Oxford,
1934), I, 327-328.

104

which later appear. In other words, it seems Obvious
that one author wrote all Of the essays in the first
group. There is external evidence that Murphy wrote
one Of them, and this external evidence, internally
supported, is nowhere contradicted, externally or
internally (p. 305).
I have little evidence tO add tO that Of Dunbar, Gray,
and Emery for Murphy's authorship Of this series, though
there is one piece that corroborates their almost certain
attribution.
Each notes the fact, that in Theatre NO. 17 the

writer quotes from Johnson's Miscellaneous Observations

 

on the Tragedy Of Macbeth and mentions that Johnson is

 

now working on his edition Of Shakespeare. This, Of
course, ties in with the proposals and encomiums in NO.
33. What no one has pointed out, though Dunbar and
Emery have remarked on the similarity Of the discussion

Of "remorse," is that Theatres NO. 16 and 17, which deal

 

with Macbeth, are a thinly veiled revision and expansion

Of Murphy's 1754 Gray's-Inn Journal essay NO. 8 on Macbeth.

 

Many of the-same phrases, quotations, and even whole para-

graphs, from this essay form the basis Of Theatres NO. 16

 

and 17. Here tOO, may be found some Of the same quota-

tions from Johnson's Miscellaneous Observations, though

 

here they are neither placed within quotation marks nor

is Johnson mentioned as is the case in the Chronicle

 

105

pieces. It appears Murphy may have borrowed them at this

time by way of Mrs. Lennox's Shakespear Illustrated,

 

though there is no mention Of her work either in the

Gray's-Inn Journal NO. 8.142 It may also be Of interest

 

to note that Murphy did not include the 1754 essay on

Macbeth in the 1756 edition Of the Gray's-Inn Journal;

 

hence, he might plausibly have assumed that few readers
would remember it in 1757. Unless one can conceive Of

another author borrowing the Gray's-Inn Journal essay,

 

rewriting it, and at the same time recognizing the John-
son quotations and crediting him with them, this essay
almost certainly ties Murphy to the first series Of
Theatre essays.

The other evidence I have to Offer does not sub—
stantiate attribution but is concerned with the argument
that the first thirty-seven essays were the work Of one
writer. It is only Of importance to the case for Murphy's
authorship Of the first series in that by adding to the
already substantial evidence for internal consistency,
the whole series may be convincingly attributed to him
on the basis Of the few external pieces Of evidence.
However, this evidence assumes considerable importance
in the arguments for attribution Of the later and more

doubtful groups Of Theatre essays.

 

142(London, 1753), I, 278-290.

106

The author Of the letter'that.preceded the first

series Of Chronicle essays set forth his criteria for

 

theatrical criticism:
I could wish to see a short Analysis Of every Play,
with a summary Account Of its Merit or Deficiency,
and whether it owes its Reception to Character, Wit,
Humour, and Incident combined, or to any one Of those
Requisites detached from the rest. If to this it
were added by whom each Play was written, when first
produced, and what Degree of Success it met with, it
would prove an agreeable and not unentertaining Part
Of your Paper, more particularly if accompanied with
Criticisms on the acting, not calculated to give
Pain tO the Performer, but derived from the Source
Of Nature, Taste, and Good Sense.

.An examination Of the thirtysseven essays that followed

this letter, shows that these criteria served as organ-

izing principles for the essays.

In almost every case where a play is considered
for the first time, each review follows a pattern that
begins with an introductory statement telling, "by whom
each Play was written, when first produced, and what
Degree Of Success it met with." This is followed by "a
short Analysis Of every Play, with a summary Account Of
its Merit or Deficiency," and in turn, by "Criticisms on

the Acting." In a few places, the third basic element in

107

the pattern, criticism of acting, is interwoven with the
analysis. Now and then, due to limits Of time and space,
the criticism Of acting is deferred until a future re-
view. There are also a few places where an essay was
Obviously meant to span more than one issue of the Qppppf
i212; hence, the organizational pattern is not repeated.
Later in the season, when a play is being performed for
a second or third time, the critic does not bother to
repeat the pattern unnecessarily but only comments on
the acting Of a particular performance: usually, he
refers the reader to a former paper for the information.
But in most Of the reviews where these organizing prin-
ciples would be applicable, a particular structural
sequence based on the letter writer's criteria is followed.
More important than the organizational pattern,
for this in itself Offers little support for attributing
the essays to one writer since once a pattern was set in
a newspaper or journal it might be, and Often was, followed
in the reviews done by later critics for the publication,

is the Chronicle writer's constant use of specific sources

 

tO fulfill his criteria.' If he was to inform his readers,
"by whom each Play was written, when first produced, and
what Degree Of Success it met with," in the numbers Of a
tri-weekly paper, many Of which would contain two or
three reviews Of plays which were first produced over a

period spanning almost two hundred years, he needed a

108

considerable body Of theatrical history at his finger—
tips. Unless he had painstakingly accumulated and organ-
ized such information from his own study of dramatic
history, he would be forced tO use theatrical handbooks
as his source: ‘for these were the only readily acces-
sible repositories Of the information he needed.

From the dozen or so theatrical handbooks and
dramatic play lists that were published before 1757,

143 Since most

there were only a few likely candidates.
Of the handbooks were published prior tO 1730, and since

the critic for the Chronicle gave the same kinds of in-

 

formation for plays produced after this date, it was
most likely that he used a more contemporary source.

The most plausible choices were William Rufus Chetwood's
The British Theatre (Dublin, 1750), Theophilus Cibber's
The Lives of the Poets Of Great Britain and Ireland

(London, 1753), and A List Of all the Dramatic Authors,

 

with some Account Of their Lives; and Of all the Dramatic
Pieces ever published in the English Language, tO the

Year 1747, attributed to John Mottley and published in

 

1747 appended to Thomas WhincOp's tragedy, Scanderberg.

 

One Of the problems in ascertaining the use Of a particular

 

143For the bibliographic information about the
theatrical handbooks of this period, I am indebted to
Carl J. Stratman, Dramatic Play Lists, 1591-1963 (New
York, 1966).

109

handbook, is that in a number Of instances they all con-
tain the same information. The later handbooks were
based on the earlier ones and Often drew much Of their
new matter from the same sources. However, the thirty—
seven essays contain sufficient information to isolate
one handbook from the others despite this overlapping.
There is little doubt that the author Of the
,first group of Theatre essays used Mottley's Eigp,through—
out as his primary reference work. In the places where
he did not employ Mottley, he apparently did not utilize
another handbook but took his information from other
sources, e.g., the acknowledged use Of Whalley's edition
Of Ben Jonson in Nos. 29, 30; or the use Of Mrs. Lennox's
Shakespear Illustrated when dealing with Shakespeare's
plays. In the thirty-seven essays there are about twenty-
seven reviews where the use Of a handbook is indicated,
that is, where the writer introduced a review with in-
formation about the author and early productions of the
work. This number does not include the reviews Of
Shakespeare, a special case that will be dealt with
later. Out of the twenty-seven reviews, the information
given in twenty-one Of them can be found in Mottley;
in a number Of these, only the information given in
Mottley agrees with that in the essays. In only a few
cases where Mottley does not have the information given

in the essays does another handbook contain such matter,

110

and in these instances, as has been mentioned, it appears
that other than handbooks were the source.

A brief comparison Of the information given in
Mottley, Cibber, and Chetwood with that given in the

Chronicle essays, will demonstrate The Theatre author's

 

 

use Of Mottley's Ei§3_as his primary source Of theatrical
history. Cibber's work can be quickly eliminated for
many Of the dates are either not given or do not agree
with those in the Theatre essays, e.g., Theatre NO. 1

says Congreve's Love for Love first appeared in 1691,

 

Cibber does not give a date; NO. 1 says The Careless

 

Husband was first exhibited in 1704, Cibber does not list

the play; NO. 1 says The Beaux' Stratagem was first

 

acted in 1710 and notes that the author, Farquhar, died
during the run, Cibber gives this information about the
author but dates the play 1707. This pattern persists
throughout the series, with the information given by
Cibber more Often disagreeing than agreeing with that
presented in the essays.

With Chetwood's British Theatre, the problem is

 

a bit more difficult for most Of the dates agree with
those in Mottley and those in the essays. However, much
Of the information found in both Mottley and the essays
is not given by Chetwood. The Theatre critic's criteria

included not only the date Of the first production, but

"what Degree Of Success it met with." Only Mottley's

111

gig; consistently gives this information, e.g., Theatre
NO. 1 says, "with very great and merited success,"
Mottley says, "with very great and deserved success";

NO. 2, "with great success," Mottley, "with great applause";
NO. 7, "with great applause," Mottley, "with great suc-
cess"; NO. 8, "with great applause," Mottley, "with great
applause"; NO. 15, "exhibited with great applause for

the first time in 1681," Mottley, "acted at the Theatre
Royal in 1681 with great Applause." In most Of the
places where the Theatre critic does not inform his
audience about the play's initial reception, the in-
formation is not given by Mottley.

There are more cogent examples that support the
arugment for the Theatre author's use Of Mottley's Eigp.
The following examples show direct borrowing and con-
tain information not included in the other handbooks:
Theatre NO. 2 says, "the Author has availed himself pretty

much Of the Tartuffe of Moliere, and a translation Of it

 

called the Puritan in the reign of King Charles II,"

Mottley says, "It is taken from the Tartuffe of Moliere,

 

and the translation Of it, called The Epglish Puritan;

 

acted in the Beginning Of the Reign Of King Charles II";
NO. 3, "This Night the Chances, a Comedy by Beaumont and
Fletcher, and in the Year 1682 revived with alterations
by Villiers Duke of Buckingham at the Theatre in Dorset

Gardens," Mottley, "The Chances, a Comedy. This Play was

 

revived, with great Alterations, by Villiers Duke Of

112

Buckingham in the Year 1682, and was acted with great
Applause, at the Theatre in Dorset-Garden." NO. 21
begins with a lengthy discussion Of Otway, noting,
among other things, that he was a neglected genius, had
a problem with excessive drinking, and that, because Of
his connection with Shadwell, had no friendship with
Dryden. This is followed by a four line quotation con-

cerning Otway taken from Rochester's Session of the

 

Poets. Mottley gives the same information and the same
quotation.
The most important example is found in Theatre

NO. 6. Here, in a review of Mrs. Centlivre's The Wonder,

 

is mentioned her dedication Of this play tO the Elector

Of Hanover, the "spirit" she showed in making such an
unpopular public declaration at this time, and the re-
wards she received after George I assumed the throne.
Mottley's Lip; not only contains this information, which
the other handbooks do not, but Mrs. Centlivre's modern
biographer, John Wilson Bowyer, informs us that, "Mottley's
sketch is demonstrably accurate in many details not in-

cluded by other biographers."144

The Theatre critic
could have gone to nO other source at this time but
Mottley's Eigp for his information on Mrs. Centlivre.

When this is considered along with the foregoing examples,

there is little doubt that the author Of the first series

 

144The Celebrated Mrs. Centlivre (Durham, 1952):

113

Of Theatre essays consistently relied on Mottley's hand-
book when he needed theatrical information Of an his-
torical nature. ‘

The one constant exception to the use Of Mottley
comes when the works Of Shakespeare are being reviewed.
Here the critic slightly modifies his criteria. Instead
Of informing his readers about the date and reception of
the play, he tells them something about the original
sources that Shakespeare drew from and modified. The
theatrical handbooks do not contain such information.
For this information, the critic used Mrs. Lennox's

Shakespear Illustrated: or the Novels on which the Plays

 

of Shakespear are Founded. He himself more or less

 

tells us this by mentioning her work in Theatres NO. 12

 

and 13. And a comparison Of the information given in
her work with that given in most Of the Shakespeare re-
views attests tO the critic's use of her work throughout
the first series Of essays.

When the evidence Of the Theatre critic's con-
sistent use Of Mottley's E£§£_and Mrs. Lennox's ghakpf

spear Illustrated is added to the evidence for internal

 

consistency presented by Dunbar, Gray, and Emery, and

when all the internal evidence is considered alongside
the few important pieces of external evidence, there is
little doubt that the author Of the first thirty-seven

Theatre papers was Arthur Murphy.

114

The attribution Of the group Of five essays that
appeared in the fall Of 1757 is much more doubtful. The
first two Of this series, those ostensibly by "Th.C.,"
have been claimed for Murphy only by Dunbar (pp. 306-309),
though Sherbo (p. 75) supports this attribution. Dun-
bar's argument is that Murphy satirized Theophilus
Cibber by first writing the letter Of criticism, signed
"Th.C.," and the following Theatre NO. 1 which is con-
nected with the letter by similarity Of tone, approach,
and a reference to the "former Paper," and then by tak—
ing the supposed author Of these reviews tO task in the
second Theatre NO. l for his inadequacies as a critic.
There is little evidence within the essays to recommend
Dunbar's argument. The evidence that Dunbar presents
really only supports the argument that Murphy had ample
motivation at this time to satirize Cibber: a motivation,
incidentally, that could be attributed tO half the
theatrical world in this period. The nature Of the
matter contained in the first two essays, and the rather
mild strictures put on their author in the second
Theatre NO. 1, simply do not support the case for a
satirical attack. There is no reason in fact, given
Theophilus Cibber's unmitigated gall, that he could not
have actually written the first two essays, although

there is nothing in Cibber's Monthly Review criticisms

 

115

that argues either for or against this point.145 How—
ever, there is little use in presenting a point by point
argument against Dunbar's position here, for.Dunbar's
argument has no validity unless Murphy was the author
of the three essays that followed those by "Th.C."
Dunbar, Emery, Gray and Sherbo attribute these
three essays to Murphy. In general, the essays follow
the style, tone and organizational pattern Of the first
series, however, there are crucial differences that argue
against Murphy's authorship. The second Theatre NO. 1

Opens with a review Of The Fatal Marriage and says, "This

 

Play was written by the late Mr. Southerne, and it was

on its first Appearance received with great Applause.

He was a Native of Ireland, and died in a very advanced
Age in the year 1748 or 1747, at his House at Westminster."
This information is similar to the kind given by Murphy

in the previous season's series; however, using Mottley,

he would have given the date of the first performance as
1694, and would have been more precise about the date Of
death, May 26, 1746. The other essays do not give this
kind Of background information, hence, cannot be compared.

Should it be assumed that after relying on Mottley's

145For Theophilus Cibber's work in the Monthly
BE!£§!_see Nangle, Indexes.

116

Lingthroughout the first series, Murphy had then dis-
carded the work?

Further on in Theatre NO. 1 there is a review Of
The Tempest. The critic remarks, "The Manager caused
this Performance to be sung a few Winters ago, and now
he hath caused it to be said: In both these acts he
was perhaps wrong; for to convert Shakespeare into
Shakesperelli, is a wilder Transformation than ever Mr.
Rich and Mr. Woodward have exhibited in their Pantomimes;
and the Tempest, as written by our great Poet, is a Play
fitter for the Closet than for Theatrical Representation."
Murphy elsewhere agrees that the play should not have
been turned into an Opera, but he is diametrically Opposed
to this critic's Opinion about the theatrical value Of
the original drama. In Theatre NO. 16, Murphy noted
that many critics found Macbeth the best Of Shakespeare's
"productions," but went on tO say that he found Tpg
Tempest, 2325, Othello and Hamlet its equal. Later, in

the Life Of Garrick, Murphy says, "In the beginning of

 

1757, Shakespeare's play Of the Tempest was converted
into an Opera. In this an error Of judgment must be
acknowledged. The original is the most entertaining,

and, in some respects, the most complete production, in
the whole circle Of the drama (I, 298)"; "Had he [Garrick]
revived the Tempest, as it stands in the original, and

Played the character of Prospero, he would have done

117

justice to the god Of his idolatry, and honour to him-
self (I, 302)." That Murphy might change his Opinion Of
a play is perfectly acceptable, but that he tOOk one
position, then its Opposite, and then returned to the
first, is not so readily acceptable, especially, when

most Of the Opinions he advances in the Life Of Garrick

 

corroborate those propounded in the first series Of
Theatre essays.
The critic in Theatre NO. 1, uses the review Of

The Tempest to disclaim and castigate "Th.C.'s" comments

 

on Henry Mossop and explains: "The Fact is, our Theatri-
cal Intelligence must occasionally consist Of Contribu-
tions from various Hands; and a Pen is sometimes bran-
dished by Hands unequal tO the Task." In the following
Theatre NO. 3, he says, "There are always some young Oxon-
ians and Cantabs in Town, who are fond Of communicating
their Thoughts tO me on these Matters; and whenever I

see a Paragraph written with an Air Of Truth and Impar-
tiality, I shall not scruple to give it a Place in the

Chronicle, even though I was not myself actually present

 

at the Representation." Dunbar and Gray both note that
this seems to be.a shift in editorial policy.from the
earlier series Of essays but dO not point out just how
:major the change is. In at least six Of the first thirty-
seven essays, Murphy had gone out Of his way tO make

statements such as the following: "As the Author Of

118

these Paragraphs did not see it performed, he thinks
proper tO reserve what he has to say Of this Play till
it be presented again: And this he thinks infinitely
more ingenuous than to follow the Example Of the Writers
Of the Age, who for the most part, speak of what they
have neither seenrmnrever understood (Theatre NO. 4)";
"We have determined never to speak of what we have not
seen; and therefore must beg our Reader's Indulgence till
the next Opportunity (Theatre NO. 14)."

In the rest Of the material contained in the
three essays, there is little that argues against Mur-
phy's authorship; however, there is just as little in
support Of the attribution. That the organizational
pattern is similar to the relatively unique one Of the
first series Of essays, does not in itself argue for a
continuation by the same writer. The absence Of intro-
ductory information, in fact, argues against it. As has
been mentioned, once a pattern was set in a newspaper or
journal, it Often became the one followed by later
critics: witness, for example, Murphy's following Of

the Monthly Review's rather bland paraphrase, quotation,

 

and comment pattern in his later dramatic criticisms for
this periodical. Although the Opinions Of Henry Mossop's
acting advanced by the critic in the second Theatre NO. l
are similar to those Offered by Murphy in Theatre NO. 34,

one only need look at a general work like the Thespian

 

119

Dictionary_(London, 1805) tO realize that these Opinions

 

Of Mossop's acting were ones commonly held at this time.
It would seem then that the few important dif-
ferences between the first and second series Of Theatre
essays give more credence tO the argument against Mur-
phy's being the author Of the second series, than the
similarities support the argument for attribution. The
similarities are more easily explained than the differ-
ences; hence, until the contradictions are resolved, the

attribution to Murphy Of the fall 1757 Theatres 1-3 is

 

most doubtful. And, of course, unless these essays can
be ascribed to him, there is no argument for crediting
him with the two "Th.C." essays that preceded them.

The first six essays that appeared in the fall
Of 1758 can be regarded as a unified series. Though the
first four are headed by Roman numerals and the following
two by Arabic, there is a similarity Of style, tone, and
critical Opinion; furthermore, the first essay promises
to take up matters which are dealt with in the second,
and the sixth refers the reader back tO the second.
Gray (p. 141) noted that there was a similarity Of tone
and style between this series and the first series but
felt that a few differences Of critical Opinion between
essay NO. 5 Of this series.and NO. 19 Of the first made

attribution to the same author doubtful. Dunbar and

Emery, on the basis of style, tone, diction, and critical

120

Opinion, claim these essays for Murphy and argue that
the inconsistencies can be ascribed to the changes in
point Of view that a critic might undergo in the space
Of a few years. Sherbo concurs in their attribution.
The argument crediting Murphy with this series
is the weakest Of any Of the attribution arguments.
Dunbar and Emery answer only the most minor aspects Of
the few contradictions pointed out by Gray, and Gray had
overlooked a number Of inconsistencies running through-
out this series: not unexpectedly since the great
breadth Of his study precluded devoting close attention
to any single part. One important difference that has
been overlooked is that the author of the third series
constantly uses the first person singular. Throughout
the first series, Murphy invariably used the first person
plural, only in a few places did he shift to the first
person singular. -In the places where background inform-
ation is given in the third series, a comparison shows
that Mottley's Li§p_was not used as the source. For the

background to Measure for Measure, Mrs. Lennox's work

 

could have been used, though both she and Murphy (NO. 18)
refer to "Cynthio's" novel and the author here calls

him "Centhos." In the first two essays Of the third
series there is nO attempt to follow an organizational
pattern like that Of the first series. The first essay

begins, sans introduction, with a critique Of the acting.

121

Though there is some analysis Of the play preceding the
commentary on acting in the second essay, the author says,
"But I have unawares run into a criticism upon a play,
when my design was to confine myself solely to some
remarks upon an actor." Should it be assumed that Murphy
has dispensed with the criteria he so consciously attempted
to follow in the first series?

In Theatre NO. IV the critic says Of Congreve's

Love for Love, "I should say, that this is the best comedy

 

either antient or modern, that ever was written to please
upon the stage; for while the most superficial judges
admire it, it is impossible but the nicest and most
accurage, must approve." He then launches into a point
by point panegyric. Murphy's admiration for this play

is considerably more qualified, "If we were to impute any
Fault to this Piece, wesmould say it is immoral, and the
Poet speaks now and then instead Of the Characters
(Theatre, NO. 1)." In NO. 6 Of the third series, the

author says Of Farquhar's The Twin Rivals, "I think the

 

play now under consideration is as prOper a spectacle as
ever was exhibited by way of a public entertainment."

This is followed by a laudatory review Of the play's
excellences. Compare Murphy's statement in Theatre NO. 9:
"This Piece has many Circumstances in the Fable neither

entertaining, nor fit for the Stage: and yet it has its

122

comic Beauties. A great Part Of the Story is interest-
ing."

This pattern Of overstatement persists throughout
the third series Of essays. In NO. III, the critic makes

many of the same points about Mrs. Centlivre's The Wonder

 

that Murphy made in NO. 6, but the tone here is almost
savage in comparison with Murphy's matter-Of-fact critique.

Again, in NO. III, the critic's encomiums on The Beggar's

 

Opera are as effusively complimentary as his attack on

The Wonder is deprecatory, and quite extreme when compared

 

with Murphy's laudatory review Of Gay's piece in Theatre
NO. 32.

Theatre NO. 5 Of the third series contains favor—
able reviews Of two pantomime dances. Though Sherbo (p.
205, n. 218) claims Murphy was not "inimical to comic
dancing," citing an approving mention of two Italian
dancers in the ”True Intelligence" section of Gray's-Inn
Journal NO. 3 (1754), it appears Murphy never gave comic
dancing any serious critical consideration. .In the
thirty-seven essays Of the first series, he did not re-
view dances and mentioned pantomimes only to derogate

them. He devoted the whole, or part, Of three Gray's-Inn

 

Journal essays (1756, Nos. 5, 71, 77), and parts Of
numerous "True Intelligence" sections, to ridiculing
pantomimes and entertainments. He generally thought that

most theatrical entertainments catered to a debased public

123

taste, hindered the production Of legitimate drama, and,
if they had merit in their own right, should be exhibited
at other than the two Patent theatres. TO mention comic
dancing in a "True Intelligence" section, Often little
more than a collection Of theatrical news items, is one
thing, but suddenly to give two favorable reviews to
comic dances in columns that had been devoted to serious
consideration Of legitimate drama seems tO violate Mur-
phy's usual Opinion Of entertainments.

In Theatre NO. 6 Of the third group, the author
says, "On Wednesday the 19th instant was revived a comedy

not acted these twelve years, called The Twin Rivals."

 

Could Murphy have forgotten that a year and a half be-

fore, in Theatre NO. 9, he had reviewed The Twin Rivals?

 

The final and most important evidence against
the attribution Of the third series to Murphy is found -
in NO. 5 Of this group. Here appears the contradiction,
that Gray noted, Of Murphy's Theatre NO. 19 commentary
upon Garrick's portrayal Of Sir John Brute in Vanbrugh's

The Provok'd Wife. In NO. 19 Murphy says, "Mr. Garrick

 

is not generally allowed tO play Sir John Brute as well
as many other Parts: We cannot help thinking the Critics
who have determined this Matter somewhat mistaken: A
large uncouth Figure, with a deep toned Voice is by no
means necessary; on the contrary, perhaps the Appearance

Of one, worn out with excessive Debauchery is the more

124

natural of the two." He goes on to give a number Of ex-
amples Of Garrick's excellence in this role. The heavy-
handed approach tO the role that Murphy says is "by no
means necessary" is an implicit description Of the great
James Quin, who for years had "owned" this part. The
critic in NO. 5, reverses this position: "It is amazing
to me that Mr. Garrick will attempt the part Of Sir John
Brute; a part which he not only apparently mistakes, but
in which he is absolutely prejudicial to the morals of
his countrymen." He then mentions Quin by name and his
interpretation Of the part. He does, however, allow
that in certain scenes, some Of the same ones Murphy men-
tions, Garrick has merit.

It is most difficult to ascribe this contradic-
tion to Murphy's changing his Opinion. For even earlier

than the Chronicle essays, in NO. 38 Of the Gray's-Inn

 

 

Journal (1754), and then later, in the Life of Garrick

 

(II, 100), Murphy praises Garrick's interpretation Of
Sir John. In the Eifg, Murphy makes virtually the same
points about Garrick's portrayal that he does in Theatre
NO. 19. As was the case in the second series Of Theatre
essays, we are forced to accept a double change Of Opinion
if the essays are to be attributed to Murphy.

But the inconsistency Of the commentary on Garrick
is not the only contradiction between NO. 19 (1757) and

No. 5 (1758). Everyone seems to have bypassed an important

125

one between the two analyses Of the play itself. Murphy
feels that, from the standpoint of morality, it would
have been preferable had Lady Brute endeavoured to re-
claim her husband through "becoming Patience and correct
Behaviour." He goes on to say, "But when at present we
see the provok'd Wife only excited tO an Emulation Of
Vice, when we see her endeavouring to outstrip her Hus-
band in a Dereliction Of Morals, and see them both pur-
suing their separate Paths Of Wickedness, we revolt from
the witty and humorous Writer, and cannot help condemning
him for the Looseness Of his Principles." The critic in
NO. 5 says, "when all is said and done, her Ladyship, and
my cousin Belinda are at best a couple Of as willing tits
as a man would desire to meet with: but as I dO not
apprehend characters Of this kind are likely to do much
mischief, I cannot help thinking that the author was
wholly in the right rather to draw his women as he has
done, than by giving them Opposite manners, to have made
them such unmeaning things as half our modern comedies
are filled with. For instance, can anyone think that
Lady Brute would give half so much pleasure tO the audi—
ence if instead Of being a wanton, intriguing, witty wag
(as Razor calls her) the author had copied her from
Patient Grizel."

When the individual pieces Of evidence against

Murphy's authorship Of the third series Of Theatre essays

126

are placed together, the total body is a good deal larger
than that for the attribution. Though any single piece
may be explained away, it is difficult to argue against
the whole.

The fourth series Of essays, that preceded by
the letter, signed "N.S.," is claimed for Murphy only by
Sherbo, though Gray admits, "it is not easy to detect any
differences in the criticisms themselves (p. 141)"
between this series and the earlier ones. But since
Sherbo himself (p. 76) is careful to inform the reader
that unless the preceding group of Theatre essays can be
ascribed to Murphy, an attribution which he accepts and
amplifies on the basis Of Dunbar's and Emery's earlier
arguments, there is not much evidence for crediting
Murphy with this fourth series Of essays. And since the
arguments advanced here demonstrate that attribution Of
the previous series tO Murphy is most doubtful, there is
little reason to give the fourth series much attention at
this time. However, a few problems that must be taken
into account by anyone giving future consideration to
Murphy's authorship of this series should be mentioned.

First, in those places where it is applicable, a
comparison shows that the author Of the fourth series did

not use Mottley's List for background information. In

NO. 8 of this series, in a review Of The Wonder, the

 

author says that because Mrs. Centlivre is a woman, she

127

is "exempted" from critical censure. Murphy's discussion

Of the play in Theatre NO. 6 and in the Life Of Garrick

 

(I, 312) belies this position. In the fourth series there
is favorable commentary on the dance, and NO. 8 contains

an approbatory mention Of the pantomime, Harlequin Ranger.

 

This would be antithetical to Murphy's usual critical
stance in regard to entertainments, particularly panto-
mimes.

Finally, Theatres NO. 9 and 11 are commendatory

 

reviews Of Balthazar Galuppi's Italian Opera, Attalo,
performed at the King's Theatre in the Haymarket. In the
thirty-seven essays of the first series, Murphy did not
review productions at other than the.two Patent theatres.
When the two reviews of Attalo appeared, there was no
lapse Of activity at Drury Lane and Covent Garden; the

critic could have reviewed The Orphan, The Earl Of Essex,

 

The Siege Of Damascus, or A Bold Stroke for a Wife.

 

Murphy remarked on Opera only once in the first series

Of essays (NO. 1), a one-sentence reference, approving
the music but not the libretto to Thomas Arne's Eliza,

an English Opera performed at Drury Lane. That it was an
English Opera may seem to be a trivial point, but in the

"True Intelligence" section Of Gray’s-Inn Journal NO. 9

 

(1754), Murphy decried the fashion for Italian Opera,
which he thought "extravagant and unnatural," though he

asserted that English composers such as Arne, Handel, and

128

Boyce, might put their music tO an ”elegant drama," and
the result would be "an high_and rational.entertainment."

In the Monthly Review for September, 1787 (p. 245), he

 

allowed that Opera may have its own beauties, hence, may
be "acceptable in the theatre." But more important, he
said Of Opera here, "The species Of composition which is
intended to be the vehicle Of music, and, indeed, to

derive its power from the songs interspersed, ought never

 

to be brought to the test Of.strict-criticism (my italics)."
The fifth.and last series Of essays, that which
begins with the first "Atticus" letter in the Nov. 18-21

Chronicle, followed by four unnumbered Theatre papers,

 

the first Of which is also signed "Atticus," running from
Dec. 2-5 to Dec. 19921, is almost assuredly the work Of
Murphy. There is tOO much external evidence designating
Murphy as the author of the final three essays Of this
series, those in which the character Of Marplot from

Mrs. Centlivre's The Busy Body is analyzed and the actors

 

who have played this role compared, to deny the attribu-
tion. Emery (p. 1104) cites two.contemporary pamphlets,

the anonymous Letter to the Hon. Author Of the New Farce,

 

Called the Rout (London,.l759) and.An.Inquiry into the

 

 

Real Merit Of-a Certain Popular Performer (London, 1760),
usually attributed tO.Murphy's friend.and occasional

collaborator in the Gray's-Inn Journal, Thaddeus Fitz-

 

patrick, that refer to Murphy as the author Of the

129

Chronicle criticism. Dunbar (p. 59, n. 38).adds the

 

Dec. 22-25 issue Of Lloyd's Evening Post tO the contem-

 

porary references. But more important (pp. 56-60), he
adds a great deal Of evidence concerning Murphy's rela-
tionship with Garrick at this time: (his antagonism
toward the manager for Garrick's failure to produce his

Orphan of China; Murphy's accusation that Garrick gave

 

John Hill an idea of Murphy's for a farce called The Rout,
which Garrick produced and which is criticized in this
Theatre series; Murphy's own admission, in the Life Of
Garrick (I, 331) that.he undertook a paper-war against
Garrick at this time. Much Of this situation is dealt
with by implication and innuendo in the final three
Theatre essays. J. W. Bowyer adds to the external evi-

dence, noting that the Theatrical Monitor for Nov. 7,

 

1767, also ascribes the Chronicle criticism Of Garrick's
146

 

Marplot to Murphy.
There is less certainty about the two "Atticus"
papers but there is enough evidence to make the attribu-
tion to Murphy convincing. Dunbar (p. 58) Offers a
cogent argument for Murphy's authorship, and Sherbo (p.
78) supports and strengthens the claim. The critical
principles set forth by "Atticus" are those followed in

the last three essays. The first unsigned Theatre column

 

146Mrs. Centlivre, p. 110,

 

130

Of the last series, that Of Dec. 7-9 dealing with Dodsley's
Cleone and Mrs. Bellamy's acting, is linked by similarity
Of tone, style, and critical concern with the preceding
"Atticus" essay which is concerned with the same subjects.
Some Of the implications and innuendoes that tie the

final papers tO Murphy's and Garrick's relationship at

the time can be found in the "Atticus" essays. Despite
the two-week break between the first "Atticus" letter

and the first Of the final four essays, when the five
criticisms are read as a group, with Murphy's avowed
paper-war against Garrick being kept in mind, a careful
attack on the manager can be seen developing. Garrick
could shrug Off the usual crude pamphlet or newspaper
attack Often levelled against him, but Murphy well knew
that "anxiety for his fame was the Manager's reigning
foible"; hence, that a fair and Objective criticism,

based on substantial principles Of acting and demonstrable
knowledge of previous interpretations Of the role, could
not be disregarded as just another personal attack and

would cut Garrick tO the quick.l47

The devising and
execution Of such a criticism takes time and historical
research, but its tentative beginnings can be seen in the

initial "Atticus" letter.

 

 

147Life Of Garrick, I, 331; See above, p. 9.

 

131

In light Of the arguments advanced here, this
edition includes only the "Tragicomicus" letter and the
thirty-seven Theatre papers from the winter and spring
Of 1757; the two "Atticus" pieces and the final three
unnumbered Theatre essays Of 1758. However, since
Arthur Sherbo has reprinted and annotated the two "Atticus"
papers, they have not been included in the Text but have

instead been placed in Appendix A.148

In general, no
attempt has been made tO modernize the text in regard to
capitalization, punctuation, orthography, and the fre-
quent use Of italics. Changes Of this nature inevitably
lose something Of the spirit and effect Of eighteenth-
century composition. Only the use Of the long if," over-
sized initial capitals, running quotation marks, and the
inconsistent and sometimes confusing practice Of italic-
izing personal names and names of dramatic characters
where emphasis clearly was not intended, have been altered
in favor Of modern conventions. Obvious compositorial
errors, such as omissions Of letters or words and ortho-
graphic variants for which there is no eighteenth-century
precedence, have been silently emended.

Explanatory notes will be found at the end Of

each essay. They identify persons, quotations, and

allusions, correct the dating of initial productions,

 

148New Essays, pp. 92-95 and 97-98.

 

132

provide a modicum Of background for the more Obscure
references, attempt to point out the pertinent sources
Of Murphy's information, and elucidate those commonly
used critical terms not discussed in the Introduction.
To obviate unnecessary repetition, works that
have been referred to in the Introduction are cited by
short title in the Text. The most frequently used

sources have been abbreviated as follows: The London

 

Stage 1660-1800, Parts 1-4, ed. William Van Lennep,
Emmett L. Avery, Arthur H. Scouten, and George Winchester
Stone, Jr., £3 vols. (Carbondale, 1960-65), is cited as
London Stage, Part,.and the volume Of the Part; Allardyce
Nicoll, History Of English Drama, 1660-1900, 6 vols.
(Cambridge, 1952), is referred tO as Nicoll; John Genest,
Some Account Of the English Stage, 10 vols. (Bath, 1832),

is listed as.Genest; and the Dictionary Of National

 

Biography, ed. Leslie Stephen, at al.,-63 vols. (London,

 

1885-1900) is abbreviated QLN;§..

TO save space, there are usually no references
given in the short biographical sketches of performers
since these were compiled from various sources. For the
information in the sketches I am indebted to Genest, the

D.N.B., The Thespian Dictionary (London, 1805), H. Barton

 

Baker, English Actors, 2 vols. (New York, 1879), and

D. E. Baker, rev. Stephen Jones, Bipgraphia Dramaticay_

 

or,.a Companion to the Playhouse, 3 vols. (London, 1812).

133

Unless otherwise noted, line references and Latin trans-

lations are according to the editions of the Loeb Clas-

 

sical Library. Where Murphy has followed a Latin passage

 

with his own translation, no further translation is
Offered, since even where there are discrepancies between
his rendition and that Of others, his best conveys the
sense in which he intended the passage. All references
to Shakespeare are to the New Cambridge edition, ed. W.
A. Neilson and C. J. Hill; those to POpe are to the
Twickenham edition, ed. John Butt, et al., 6 vols.

(London, 1939-62).

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, January 18-20, 1757.
POSTSCRIPT.

TO the Authors Of the CHRONICLE.

Gentlemen,

I Agree with the Writer Of the Introduction to
your Paper, "That the Public is rather wearied than sat-
isfied with the weekly and daily Papers," which have been
served up to them for some time past.1 Your undertaking
seems much better calculated tO gratify Curiosity than
any Of your Rivals, and to administer likewise to that
Love Of Variety, which is so natural to the Mind Of Man.
As we have no Comic Writers among us, your Paper may serve
as a Mirror to reflect the Manners Of the present Age,
when Time with his effacing Hand shall have totally Ob-
literated the reighing Customs and Ideas. On this Account
I would have annual Collections made Of your Papers; and
:if they are hereafter found in the Bodleian Library, or
in the Repositaries Of Antiquarians, Posterity may be
enabled to form clearer Ideas Of this glorious Period,
than any Of the Commentators have been able to suggest

in relation to the Singularities exhibited by Ben Johnson.

134

135

One Part of your Plan is, I think, defective. It
will conduce very little to the Advancement Of true Know-
ledge, tO inform future Times that such a Play was acted
at Drury-Lane, and such a one at Covent-Garden. I could
wish to see a short Analysis Of every Play, with a summary
Account Of its Merit or Deficiency, and whether it owes
its Reception tO Character, Wit, Humour, and Incident com-
bined, or tO any one Of those Requisites detached from
the rest. If to this it were added by whom each Play was
written, when first produced, and what Degree of Success
it met with, it would prove an agreeable and not unenter-
taining Part Of your Paper, more particularly if accom-
panied with Criticisms on the acting, not calculated tO
give Pain tO the Performer, but derived from the Source
of Nature, Taste, and Good Sense.2

If you agree with me in this Matter (as you cer-
tainly must) I will with Pleasure undertake that Depart—
ment: And I therefore desire you will order a new Type
of the following Letters in Capitals, T, H, E, A, T, R, E;
lasing resolved to convey all Intelligence Of this Nature
tender the Title Of THE THEATRE which I would have placed
in.some conspicuous Part of the Chronicle, to be reserved

in all your future Publications for my Criticisms, without

136

being ever preoccupied by Letters from the Hague, or any
other Topic whatever.
I am, Gentlemen,
Your very humble Servant,

TRAGICOMICUS.

 

1The introductory paragraphs to the first issue

Of the London Chronicle (Jan. 1, 1757) said, "The Paper
which we now Invite the Publick tO add tO the Papers with
which it is already rather wearied than satisfied con-
sists Of many Parts." This introduction was written by
Samuel Johnson. Boswell, Life, I, 317.

For Murphy's use Of these criteria as organizing
principles in the reviews, see above, pp. 106-7.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, January 20-22, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 1 .

Drury-Lane, Jan. 20, 1757.
This Evening was presented a Comedy called the

Careless Husband, written by Mr. Colley Cibber.1 This

 

Piece was exhibited for the first Time in the Year 1704,
at the Threatre in Drury-Lane, with very great and merited
Success. It is Of that Species Of the Drama, which the
modern Critics call genteel Comedy, the Action being
among PeOple in high life, whose Characters, fine by De-
fect and delicately nice, as Mr. POpe expresses it,2 are
drawn with a very masterly Hand. Sir Charles Easy's in-
dolent Enjoyment is finely marked, and beautifully con-
trasted by the self-tormenting Fretfullness Of Lord
Morelove. Lord Foppington is a FOp Of the last Age, with
all the Fashionable Vices, a very riduculous Vanity, and
a pleasant vein Of Raillery.3 Lady Betty Modish is the
most finished and best drawn Coquette Of the English
Stage; the Business4 is that Of People of Fashion, inter-
esting, and productive of some very entertaining situa-

tions; though we cannot help thinking the Discovery Of

Sir Charles with Edging (which last Character is inimitably

137

138

acted by Mrs. Clive)5 rather borders upon Indelicacy,
though it afterwards occasions a very pathetic6 and

beautiful Conclusion Of the Piece.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Mr. Congreve's Comedy Of Love for Love, which

 

appeared the first Time in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, in the
Year 1691, was acted here this Evening.7 The Success of
this Piece was such, that Mr. Betterton and the other
Managers gave the Author a Share in the House, on Condi-
tion that he should produce a new Play every Year; which
Mr. Congreve accepted, thO' he had afterwards tOO great a
Regard to his Reputation tO perform the Article.8 Wit,
Plot, Humour, and Character are exquisitely combined in
this Piece. The Limits Of our Paper will only allow us
tO say that Valentine, Foresight, Sir Sampson, Ben and
Miss Prue are inimitably drawn, and produced in the most
diverting Situations. If we were tO impute any Fault to
this Piece, we should say it is immoral, and that the
Poet speaks now and then instead of the Character; we
could wish Mr. Garrick would do Honour to the Memory Of”

Mr. Congreve, by appearing in some Of his Plays.

Drury Lane, let.
This Evening was performed the Opera Of Eliza,

for the Benefit Of Mr. Arne, who, we think, has acted the

139

Part Of the ancient Tyrant upon himself, by joining a

Living to a Dead Body.9

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Stratagem, by Mr. Farquhar, was performed

 

here. This Play was acted first in the Year 1710, and

the Author died during the Run.10

The Business Of it is
admirably imagined, and the Dialogue is airy and pleasant,
though, as is frequent with this Writer, it Often dwindles
into mere Chit-chat. The Humours Of a jolly Landlord are
well exhibited in Boniface. Archer is ever a pleasant

and a pretty Fellow; and Scrub is justly drawn from
Nature, though not always acted so. The Plot is well
conducted, till we come tO the Close, when Mr. and Mrs.
Sullen are parted in an unnatural Manner, and with a
strong Degree of Immorality on the Side Of Archer, who

11 (if I can so call

also concludes the Piece with a Moral
it) which I could wish were altered for such a one as
would not be an Affront to the Understanding and Manners

Of the Audience.

 

lSee Theatre NO. 2, n. 8.

2"Fine by defect, and delicately weak," Moral

Essays, II, 44.

3Unlike most eighteenth-century critics, for whom
the terms "raillery" and "ridicule" were synonymous,
Murphy regarded raillery as a more gentle corrective de-
vice than ridicule: "NO tincture Of ill-nature must be
suffered to mingle in the composition Of raillery." He
defined it as, "a delicate exertion Of pleasantry upon

140

the foibles, the slight indiscretions, the mistaken Opin-
ions, Or even the virtues Of men, when carried to some
degree Of excess." GIJ, NO. 25 (1786).

4For Murphy's use of this term see above, p. 77.

5Catherine "Kitty" Clive, 1711-1785, was one Of
the foremost comediennes Of the period. By 1731 she was
an established actress and maintained her popularity
until her retirement in 1769. Her specialty was comic
characters Of the middle and lower classes. Known for
her wit, understanding, and a superb sense Of timing, she
was as highly regarded by her colleagues as by the public.

6"In all eighteenth—century critical writings
the term pathetic is used in its generic sense Of pro-
ducing an effect upon the emotions, not necessarily the
tender emotions." Monk, The Sublime, p. 13, n. 11.

 

7This play was first performed on April 30, 1695,
when Thomas Betterton, as the manager Of a newly formed
company Of actors, reOpened the Old playhouse in Lin-
coln's Inn Fields as the new Theatre Royal. John Hodges,
William Congreve the Man (New York, 1941), p. 52.

 

8Congreve's biographer substantiates this agree-
ment but feels that natural indolence as well as a desire
to "preserve his artistic integrity" prevented Congreve
from fulfilling it. Ibid.

9Thomas Arne's Eliza was first performed in May,
1754, at the Little Theatre in the Haymarket. For Murphy's
acclamation Of Arne's music, see above, pp.127-8, and
Eli, NO. 37 (1754). The "Dead body" is Richard ROlt's
ludicrous libretto in which Brittania, Liberty, Peace,
and other allegorical figures, inhabit an idyllic pastoral
world that is about to be attacked by the wicked figure
of Spain. The "ancient Tyrant" is Mezentius, mythical
king Of the Etruscans who put his victims tO a slow, tor-
turous death by binding them hand to hand and face tO face
with a rotting corpse. Virgil, Aeneid, VIII, 485-88.

10The Beaux' Stratagem was produced on March 8,
1707, at the Queen's Theatre In the Haymarket and Farquhar,
only thirty years Old, died sometime late in May. A. J.
Farmer, George Farquhar (London, 1966), p. 13.

11At the close Of the play Archer says: "'Twould
be hard to guess which Of these parties is the better
pleased, the couple joined, or the couple parted: the one

 

 

141

rejoicing in hopes Of an untasted happiness, and the other
in their deliverance from an experienced misery.

Both happy in their several states we find,

Those parted by consent, and those conjoined.

Consent, if mutual, saves the lawyer's fee--

Consent is law enough tO set you free."

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, January 22-25, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 2.

Drury-Lane, Jan. 22, 1757.
This Evening was performed at this Theatre, Aaron
Hill's Translation of Voltaire's Merope, acted for the

first Time in 1749.1

The Subject of this Piece is very
finely handled in the Italian by Massei, to whom the
French Author has addressed his Performance in a very
elegant Dedication, in which he has paid him every Acknow-
ledgment, that a generous Mind always thinks a Tribute

due to transcendent Merit.2 Voltaire seems in all his
fugitive Pieces to have considered this Play as his

Master-piece, and accordingly we find him frequently

boasting Of La Merope Frapgpise.3 The Truth is, he has

 

justly valued himself for this Work, the Success Of which
was very great. The Story is nobly conceived; the im-
pregnable Virtue of the Queen, her maternal Affliction,
and her Indignation at the Insolence Of the Usurper are
strikingly marked; the youthful Heroism Of her Son intro-
duced in Disguise, ignorant Of his own Birth, and charged
with the Murder Of the young Prince, without being con-

scious that he himself is that royal Person, is a

142

143

Situation that cannot fail to engage every feeling Heart;
and the double Distress Of the Queen just going to sacri-
fice her Son for a Murder, and the imminent Danger of the
young Man, forms, in my Opinion, one Of the most pathetic
Scenes on any Stage; and the Passions are here excited to
as strong Emotions as the Drama can afford. After this
Incident, which is in the third Act, it must be Observed
that the Interest weakens, and, the Discovery being made,
the Play never rises to any Thing like a Climax Of Terror
and Pity, which should always be the Case in a Tragedy,
and which is in general tOO much neglected by the French
Writers. Aaron Hill has not improved the Play in this
very Obvious Point: what he seems to have aimed at, was
to render it strongly Sentimental:4 In this he has Often
succeeded: this Writer does not appear to have wanted a
Power Of thinking, but in order to impress his Thoughts
with Force and Energy, he has had Recourse to such lab-
oured Diction, as has justly deserved the Censure passed
on him by a great Genius, viz. that he was fond Of making

bold Experiments in Language.5

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
Mr. Cibber's Nonjuror was performed; a Play in
which the Author has availed himself pretty much Of the
Tartuffe Of Moliere, and a Translation Of it called the
Puritan in the Reign Of King Charles II.6 Mr. Cibber's

Piece was performed in the Year 1717, with great Success:

144

the Character Of Maria is inimitably drawn: her Coquetry,
her Vivacity of Understanding, and her Wit and Raillery
render her very justly a Favourite with the Audience;

and Mrs. Woffington's admirable Performace imprints every
Scene, and heightens Maria's Charms with her own Sensi-
bility and Elegance.7 The Conduct of this Comedy is such
as might be expected from one who perfectly understood
the Stage; the Incidents are pleasing, and serve besides
tO promote the Exhibition Of Character.8 Upon the

whole, Mr. Pope's Censure, when he says, "NO Merit the
dear Nonjuror claims," seems rather the Result Of his
satyric Spleen, than the Effect Of his serious Judg-

ment.9

Drury-Lane, 24th.

The Tragedy of the Earl Of Essex, by Mr. Jones,

 

was acted here. This Piece was produced for the first
Time at Covent-Garden Theatre, in the Year 1753, with a
Success which seems rather tO be owing to the Circum-
stances Of the Story than any capital Merit in the

Writing. It is Observed in the Spectator that the

 

original Play on this Subject, though very defective in
the Writing, yet from the Conduct Of the Story was never
seen without many wet Eyes.10 The same Remark may be

made without Regard to the Alteration, and we may still
with the Author Of the complimentary Verses prefixed tO

it.

145

And the Head wonder'd how the Heart was mov'd.ll

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was performed the Committee, acted first in

 

1665.12

Many Of the Characters are drawn in Allusion tO
the Politics Of the Times, and with Humour they expose
the DisPutes then subsisting. However, the Pleasantry is
now in a great measure lost, the Ideas and Manners Of
those Times being effaced. The Play has, however, the
Advantage Of a lasting Character, which is that Of
Teague,l3 who has many characteristical Marks, besides
making Bulls;l4 his Honesty and Courage recommend him;
his simple Cunning, which divertingly instead Of avoiding,
leads him into Blunders; and those Blunders which help
to produce new Turns and Incidents, are all Beauties in
this Piece. Modern Writers, who attempt to rival this
Character, will be sure to fail, unless a Comic Genius

should arise with some Knowledge of the Stage, with Wit

that extends beyond Joe Miller's Jests,15 and with an

 

Idea Of Character deduced from an inward Survey Of the
Movement Of the Mind, and not superficially formed, by
stringing together all the hackney'd Bulls that have al—

ready palled our Relish.

 

lAaron Hill, poet, dramatist, journalist, translator,
and theatre manager, died in 1750. His periodical, Tpe
Prompter, and his Essay on the Act Of Acting constitute
some of the most important theatrical writing of the first

 

146

half Of the century. Though MerOpe was not performed
until April 15, 1749, Hill had completed the translation
in 1745. He also translated Voltaire' s Alzire and Zaire.
For comments on the latter, see Theatre NO. 4.

2Voltaire completed his MerOpe in 1737, but it
was not acted until 1743. The first edition Of this
work, 1744, included a lengthy letter Of dedication to
the Italian author, Frangois- Scipion Massei, who had
composed his MerO e in 1713. Oeuvres Completes de VOl-
taire (Paris, 1887), IV, 179. Murphy referred tO and
quoted from this dedication in E31! NO. 20 (1754).

3The original Pieces fugitives (1740) was a small
collection of verse, letters, and short prose pieces.
The content of this collection seems to have varied from
edition tO edition and Often the collection itself ap-
peared as part Of larger editions Of Voltaire's works.
See Georges Bengesco, Bibliographie des Oeuvres de Vol-
taire, 5 vols. (Paris, 1890). Of the two editions (1740
and 1763) that I have been able to examine, only that of
1763 contains a mention Of MerOpe, but the information
given is not applicable here. However, in QIQJ NO. 12
(1754), Murphy referred to "the several Performances in
Criticism with which Voltaire has introduced into the
World his various poetical Compositions" as going "by the
Name Of, Fugitive Pieces"; hence, the dedicatory letters
and prefaces to the dramas were part Of the edition Of
the Fugitive Pieces used by Murphy. But an examination
Of these reveals that only in the prefatory matter to
MerOpe itself did Voltaire give encomiums to this play.

4"Voltaire's Polyphontes is the tyrant dictating
terms--Hill's Polyphontes talks Of love and addresses the
Queen as his sister and his soul; Hill introduces some
description Of Arcadian simplicity in which the prince
was reared; Hill embellishes the account Of the prince's
prayer in the temple with trembling altars and glories
beaming around; and he brings into the scene, where MerOpe
attempts to sacrifice her son, a funeral song and a pro-
cession Of virgins in white." Dorothy Brewster, Aaron
Hill (New York, 1913): P. 150.

5I have not been able to identify the "great
Genius." It may be an allusion to Pope, who in Chapter
VI Of The Art Of Sinking in Poetry made Hill one Of the
"Flying Fishes $that soar momentarily out Of "the pro-
fund" only tO fall back, and in the Dunciad Of 1728 (II,
283-86) portrayed him as one of the "divers." In later
editions, at Hill's request, the lines were changed;

 

 

 

 

 

 

147

however, POpe continued to refer to him in the notes as
someone who had been "guilty of bombast" in his youth.

61n his autobiography, Cibber says Of the N22:
juror, "TO give life, therefore, to this design [to
satirize the Jacobitism that led tO the Scottish rebel-
lion] I borrow'd the Tartuffe Of Moliere, and turn'd him
into a modern Nonjuror.“ An Apology for the Life Of
Colley_gibber, ed. B. R. S. Fone (Ann Arbor, 1968), p.
282. Cibber does not mention the Puritan. A play with
this title, possibly by Thomas Middleton, was acted in
1714 with a "bill that bore the heading: Not Acted these
50 Years." London Stage, Part 1, 71.

 

 

7Margaret Woffington, 17l4?-1760, Garrick's
'lovely Peggy,‘ was also a close friend Of Murphy.
Though not a beauty, she was tall and well-formed, ex-
pressive and vivacious. Competent in all roles, she was
particularly acclaimed for her portrayal Of females Of
high rank and for playing "breeches" parts of fine gen-
tlemen such as Sir Harry Wildair in Farquhar's The Con-
stant Couple.

 

8Because Cibber has such a desire tO be in the
public eye that he would rather be reviled than ignored,
his actions and words Often made him the butt Of satire;
so much so, that his real achievements as an actor,
dramatist, and manager, were usually obscured. His come-
dies were pOpular with the public, but Murphy was one Of
the few critics to recognize Cibber's artistry and crasts-
manship as a dramatist. See Theatres NO. 1, 13, 23 and
the "Atticus" letter Of NOV. 18-21, 1758.

9

 

"NO merit now the dear Nonjuror claims,
Moliere's Old stubble in a moment flames."
Dunciad (B), I, 253.

10Murphy's memory fails him here. It was the
Tatler, NO. 14, May 12, 1709, that said Of the original
pIay, John Banks' The Unhappy Favourite, or the Earl Of
Essex (1681), "Yesterday we were entertained withithe
tragedy Of the Earl Of Essex; in which there is not one
good line, and yet a play which was never seen without
drawing tears from some part Of the audience." The Tatler
went on to ascribe this phenomenon to the "incidents" Of
the story itself.

11This line is from the verses prefixed to Henry
Jones' drama but it refers to Banks' work. The poem com-
Piiments Jones~ on overcoming this failing Of Banks'
Piece. It is Of interest to note that the author Of these

 

148

"complimentary Verses" was Murphy's Old enemy, Macnamara
Morgan, with whom he fought an aborted duel at the Bed-
ford Coffee-house on NOV. 2, 1753, because Morgan alleged
that the Gray's-Inn Journal's reason for being was to
puff GarrIck.

12The first known performance Of Sir Robert How-
ard's Committee was on NOV. 27, 1662. London Stage, Part
1' 580

 

13The main character in The Commitpee was so
popular that in later comedies and farces, "Teague" be-
came a generic name for the stock figure Of the low
Irishman.

l4"Bulls" were the stock solecisms, ludicrous
jests, and self-contradictory propositions, delivered in
a heavy brogue, that marked the comic figure of the low
Irishman.

15In 1739, T. Read published a collection of jests
that he had commissioned John Mottley to compile, and
which Mottley unwarrantably titled Joe Miller's Jests
after a well-known comic actor of the period who had
died the previous year. D.N.B., §2p_Mi11er, XXXVII, 416.

 

THE THEATRE . NO . 3 .

Drury-Lane, Jan. 25, 1757.

Mr. Congreve's Tragedy called the Mourning Bride,

 

produced for the first Time in Lincoln's-Inn Fields, in
the Year 1696, was exhibited here this Evening.l The
Success Of this Piece was, in all Probability, chiefly
owing to the great Reputation of its Author, and the false
Taste, which prevailed in those Days. It seems a Kind of
Fatality in the literary World, that Fashion seems to
govern, what should only be directed by the Standard Of
Nature. One may reasonably imagine that Audiences, when

the Mourning Bride was wrote, were chiefly fond Of being

 

elevated and surprised,2 and indeed the same vicious
Relish seems to re-commence at present; otherwise we
should not see Plays received with Applause, when their
chief Merit consists in Trick, Incident, and Business;

without Character, Fable, or Language. The Mourning Bride

 

is not entirely defective in the three last mentioned
Particulars: Zara is a commanding Character; the Vicis-
situdes Of her Rage and Love; her noble Propensities,

and the Vehemence of her Passions, which tear her Virtues

 

149

150

ng3 are all drawn in very fine Proportions. Osmyn is
likewise a Character well conceived: The first Intro-
ductiOn Of him is very striking, and his Exit in the
Close Of the first Act leaves the Mind in a Pause Of Sus-
pence. His filial Piety very properly leads him to visit
his Father's Tomb; the Discovery that he is Alphonso,
when he comes out Of the Vault, is very artificial,4 and
is succeeded by a recognizing Scene between him and Al-
meria, in which Joy and Tenderness are affectingly min-
gled. After this, the Remainderof Osmyn's Part is all
Rant and wild Poetry, the Ideas and Expressions being
drawn from the Stores Of Imagination, without the Simplic-
ity always natural to Emotions Of the Heart. The rest Of
the Piece is a Succession Of Miracles, unnatural and im-
probable Turns Of Fortune, and we are every Moment sur-
prized with some new Discovery to make us stare, but not
reach our Hearts. However, upon the Whole, this Tragedy
is on the Side of Virtue, and in that Respect, and that

only, it is the best Of all Mr. Congreve's Plays.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was performed, the first Part of Hengy the Fourth,

 

written by Shakespeare. The Plays Of this Author must
never be judged by the strict Rules Of Dramatic Poetry,
with which it is to be imagined, he was not acquainted;

and therefore to try him by what he did not know, would

151

be trying him by a Kind Of ex post facto Law; Regularity

 

Of Design being introduced in this Country since the De-
cease of that great Genius. Mr. Hume, in his History Of
Great Britain, has given a pretty just Character of him,
when he says, "A striking Peculiarity Of Sentiment,
adapted to a singular Character, he frequently hits as it
were by Inspiration; but a reasonable Propriety Of

5 unless the

Thought he cannot, for any Time, uphold;"
Character Of Falstaff be an Exception to this very sensi-
ble Writer's Opinion. For indeed the Character Of Sir
John no where flags, and he generally upholds a Propriety
of thought, if it be considered in regard to the Manners
Of the Speaker. Bullying, Cowardice, Vaunting, Defection,
boasted Activity, and bodily Indolence, Profligacy, and
Pretensions tO Decorum, form such a party-coloured Groupe
as moves our Laughter irresistibly; his Wit, and, on all
Occasions, the Pleasantry Of his Ideas, provoke us to
laugh with him, and hinder the Knight's Character from
sinking into Contempt; and we love him, in Spight of his
degrading Foibles, for his enlivened Humour and his com-
panionable Qualities. It is somewhat surprizing that the
Players have agreed to supersede one Of the best Scenes

in the Play, which is that between Falstaff and the

Prince, where Sir John personates by Turns the King and

his Son, with such a Vein Of Humour as perhaps would di-

vert an Audience beyond any thing in the Comedy.6

152

Drury-Lane, 26th.

This Night the Chances, a Comedy by Beaumont and
Fletcher, and in the Year 1682 revived with Alterations
by Villiers Duke Of Buckingham at the Theatre in Dorset
Gardens, was acted at this House.7 The Bills Of the Day
mention further Alterations: we could wish that, when
Mr. Garrick thought Of any Alterations, he had given such
as would have rendered it not entirely Offensive to all
Decency and Virtue.8 In many Passages we meet with very
fine Writing; just Thoughts enlivened by spirited Dia-
logue, Wit, Humour, and Strokes Of Character. The Play
however, owes its Success principally to quick Turns Of
Business, a Variety Of Incidents, and some diverting
Situations. The Plot is very far from being conducted
artificially, and in a just Subordinancy to the Rules Of
the Drama; and Vice and Folly are represented in a
favourable Light. On the Revival of this Play, a few
Winters ago, the Connoisseurs were divided about Mr.
Garrick, and the late Mr. Wilks:9 many Persons Of Taste,
*who remembered the Latter, prefered the deceased Per-
former; be that as it may, Mr. Garrick's Admirers had
great Reason on their Side, because he certainly plays
the Part with great Vivacity; and in his Hands Don John
is a new created Personage, that will always divert, while

our modern Roscius10 walks the Stage.

153

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was performed the Inconstant, by Mr. Farquhar;
ll

 

first acted in 1703. The most striking Incident in
this Play, which is the Scene when the Bravoes rOb young
Mirabel, and are afterwards hindered from perpetrating
their intended Murder, is founded on a true Story, that
happened in Paris.12 There is not much Fancy in this
Comedy; the Dialogue is generally small Talk, and the
Conduct such as not very much to engage the Attention.
Whenever this Play is acted at the other House, we regret

Mr. Garrick in Duretette,l3 though we must own Mr. Wood-

14 15

ward performs

is diverting throughout, and Mrs. Clive

wonderfully well in the Character Of Bizarri.

 

1The Mourning Bride was first performed in Feb-
ruary, 1697. London Stage, Part 1, 474.

21h Villiers' The Rehearsal, I, i, 42-3, the "new
kind of wits" are defined as "fellows that scorn to imi-
tate nature, but are given altogether to elevate and
surprise."

3

 

 

In III, ii, 228-230, Osmyn says Of Zara:

But she has Passions which out-strip the Wind,
And tear her Virtues up, as Tempests root

The Sea....

The Complete Plays Of William Congreve, ed. Herbert Davis
(Chicago, 1967).

4Murphy uses this word in the approbatory sense
Of artful, with art, skilfully wrought; it carries none
Of the derogatory connotations Of affected or unnaturally
contrived.

154

5David Hume, The History Of England from the In-
vasion of Julius Caesar to the RevolutiOn in 1688 (London,
1848), IV, 374.

6

 

II, iv.

7Villiers' adaptation was played as early as Feb-
ruary, 1667. London Stage, Part 1, 102.

8In the fall Of 1754 Garrick "carefully retouched
and pruned down" Villiers' adaptation. Percy Fitzgerald,
The Life of David Garrick (London, 1868), I, 300.

 

 

9Robert Wilks, 16652-1732, was the unrivalled
"fine gentleman" Of the first quarter Of the century. He
and his co-managers at Drury Lane, Barton Booth and Colley
Cibber, were the leading proponents Of the "exaggerated"
style Of acting. Though also a fine tragedian, particu-
larly in pathetic tragedy, his best roles were comic fig-
ures in fashionable society.

10The most celebrated Roman actor, d. 62 B.C.,
was considered to have reached such perfection in his art
that his name became a synonym for histrionic excellence.

llGeorge Farquhar's The Inconstant, an adaptation
Of John Fletcher's The Wild Goose Chase (1621?), was first
acted in February, 1702. Eric Rothstein, George Farquhar
(New York, 1967). p. 21.

12In the preface to The Inconstant Farquhar said,
"I had almost forgot to tell you, that the turn Of the
plot in the last act is an adventure Of Chevalier de
Chastillon in Paris, and matter of fact; but the thing
is so universally known, that I think this advice might
have been spared, as well as all the rest Of the preface,
for any good it will do either tO me or the play." The
Dramatic Works Of George Farquhar, ed. A. C. Ewald (EEK-
don, 1892), I, 328.

13Garrick has played the part earlier, but after
February, 1754, it appears to have become Henry Woodward's
role. See London Stage, Part 4, vols. I-II.

14Henry Woodward, 1714-1777, was the leading
comedian Of the period. Known for his Marplot, Bobadil,
Touchstone, Mercutio, Lord Foppington, and a host Of

 

 

 

 

 

 

155

similar roles, he was also a fine Harlequin. At this
time he and Garrick divided the comic parts at Drury Lane.

15See Theatre NO. 1, n. 5.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, January 27-29, 1757.
THE THEATRE. No. 4 .

Drury-Lane, Jan. 27, 1757.

This Night was acted the Tragedy Of gepe, trans-
lated by Aaron Hill from the Zaire Of Voltaire, and pro-
duced for the first time in the Year 1734, at the Theatre-
Royal in Drury-Lane.l Being upon a religious Subject, it
does not entirely suit the Genius of a Nation that seems
divesting itself more and more every Day Of all Manner Of
religious Principles; and indeed since the Reception Of
Lord Bolingbroke's Works, it is no Wonder if it goes Off
more heavily than ever.2 The Character of Osman has a
dignified Elevation Of Mind; but the Distress is hardly
any where brought to that Degree Of acute Feeling which we
find in the Tragedies Of Shakespear and Otway. Lusignan
is very well sketched, and receives infinitely more
beautiful Touches from the exquisite Pencil of Mr. Garrick,
than it owes to the Hand Of the Poet. It is remarkable
that this Play has had the Honour Of producing, on the
first Night Of its Exhibition both in Paris and in London,

two very admirable Actresses; Mademoiselle Gossin3 and

Mrs. Cibber.4 To the former Voltaire has addressed his

156

157

Piece in a short and neat COpy Of Verses;§ and it is also
worthy Of Observation, that the same great Genius has paid
an immortal Tribute to the Merit of Mrs. Cibber. After
having informed us Of an Actress in Paris who reformed

the Abuses that had crept into the Art Of Acting, and
happily exchanged the pompous declamatory Tone for the
Voice Of nature in all her various Emotions,6 he proceeds
to say, That Mrs. Cibber introduced the same Improvement
on the English Stage in the Character Of Zara: And he
closes the Passage with a very sensible Remark; "It is
strange, says he, that it has Obtained in almost every
Art, that PeOple find out, after a Deviation Of long Con—
tinuance, the very Point where they ought to have begun,
viz. the Simplicity Of Nature. The Truth is, this Sim-
plicity of Nature is the distinguishing Perfection Of Mrs.
Cibber; and from her the Passions speak with such en-
chanting Powers, that she is very justly the first Orna-

ment Of the English Stage."7

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was performed Richard the Third, altered from

 

Shakespear by Colley Cibber.8 Mr. Garrick has been such

an admirable Commentator on this Character, that it is
needless tO criticise it. However, as Mr. Barry9 appeared
in it, for the first Time, this Night, we propose hereafter

to enter into an Examination Of it; but chuse to defer

158

this Matter till we have seen Mr. Barry once more; not
thinking it fair tO determine his Merit in it till he

performs it free from the Solicitude of a first Adventure.

Drury-Lane, 28th.

Eliza again. Vide our last Saturday's Paper.10

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was revived here a Comedy Of Beaumont and Flet—

cher's, called, Wit Without Money.ll As the Author of

 

these Paragraphs did not see it performed, he thinks pro-
per to reserve what he has tO say Of this Play till it be
presented again: And this he thinks infinitely more in—

genuous than to follow the Example Of the Writers Of the

Age, who, for the most part, speak Of what they have

neither seen nor ever understood.

 

lAaron Hill's Zara received its premier in the
Great Room or Theatre in York Buildings, Villars Street,
on May 29, 1735. London Stage, Part 3, I, xxxiii. The
first performance at Drury Lane that Murphy refers to
throughout this review did not take place until January
12, 1736. Ibid., I, 542.

 

2Many Of Bolingbroke's philOSOphical writings
were not published until three years after his death,
when in 1754 the first edition Of his collected works was
issued. Murphy reacted strongly to Bolingbroke's Deism
and usually lost no Opportunity to deprecate the Vis-
count's philOSOphical principles. See for example Ell,
NO. 29 (1754) and NO. 84 (1756).

3Jeanne Gaussin, 1711-1767, whose oriental beauty
and voluptuous grace gave her eminence in roles Of the
pathetic heroine, made her debut in April, 1731 and
played a number Of parts before appearing in the premier

159

of Voltaire's Zaire on August 13, 1732. Fredrick Hawkins,
ghe Freheh Stage in the Eighteenth Century (London, 1888),
I, 265-67; Annales Dramatiques (Paris, 1808-12), IV,
213-140

 

 

4Susanna Maria Cibber, 1714-1766, made her cele-
brated debut as an actress in Hill's Zara on Jan. 12,
1736. However, by this time she was an accomplished
singer and had been appearing in Opera and oratorio since
1732. Sister Of Thomas Arne, the well known composer, she
had a short-lived and scandalous marriage with the nefar-
ious Theophilus Cibber. Elegant and exquisite rather than
beautiful, she had the temperament Of a true prima donna
and usually plagued Garrick until she got her way in the
matter Of parts and dress. Competent in both comedy and
tragedy, she was the most famous representative in this
period Of the tender and passionate heroines Of tragedy.

5See Epitre XXXVIII, "A Mademoiselle Gaussin"
(1732), Oeuvres Completes, X, 279.

 

6Adrienne Lecouvreur, 1690-1730, friend Of Voltaire
and the most renowned French actress Of the eighteenth
century.

7§econde Epitre Dédicatoire (1736), Oeuvres Com—
EléteS' II, 548-490

8Cibber's adaptation was first produced at Drury
Lane in the 1699/1700 season. See Cibber, Apology, PP.
81 and 152.

 

 

9Spranger Barry, 1719-1777, was Garrick's leading
rival in the 1750's. They Often appeared in the same
parts, and in a few, such as Othello and Romeo, Barry
surpassed Garrick. Particularly handsome, he excelled in
the role Of lover.

10See Theatre NO. 1.

11This comedy (1614?) was popular throughout the
Restoration and eighteenth century but invariably in an
altered version. See A. C. Sprague, Beaumont and Fletcher
on the Restoration Stage (Cambridge, Mass., 1926), pp.
255-57.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, Jan. 29-Feb. l, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 5.

Drury-Lane, Jan. 29, 1757.
This Evening was repeated the Tragedy Of The Earl

of Essex.1 This Play having been mentioned by us already,

 

we shall not detain our Readers any longer, than to Ob-
serve, that Mr. Ross appears in the Part Of Essex with a
very becoming Propriety.2 His Figure looks genteel and
amiable; his Powers are pleasing all thrO' the Character;
and upon the whole it appears, that when he exerts him-
self, he is equally fitted for the graceful Walks Of Trag-
edy as he is Of Comedy. It were needless to give Commen-
dation to the established Merits of Mrs. Cibber and Mrs.

Pritchard.3

After the Play was presented the Entertain-
ment of pephe; in which the new Part of Lord Chalkstone
was introduced by Mr. Garrick.4 This Character bears some
Resemblance to Lord Feeble, in an Account Of a Club pub-

5 The Circumstances

lished sometime since in the HQEEQJ
Of Ridicule are greatly heightened, however, in this
Piece; and there are many additional Foibles brought in,
which very strikeingly improve the Picture. An Old

Debauchee of Quality, overwhelmed with Debilities, and

160

161

still fond Of Pleasures, which his impaired Senses can no
longer take, is a very prOper Personage for the Drama.
Chalkstone is quite exhausted in the Service Of Vice; and
the Ridicule arises from the very diverting Exhibition

the excellent Actor gives us Of a Man, agonizing at every
Pore, yet still forcing his Spirits, and assuming the
Appearance of fashionable Gaieties, as if they were laud-
able Qualities, even while we perceive him sinking under
the painful Vivacity. His Hint for improving the Place,
for clumping the Trees, etc. is perfectly a characteristic
Stroke; though we could wish the Ridicule were carried
further. If he desired Aesop tO send to Hide Park-Corner
for Images and Statues, if he recommended a Tin Cascade,
if he advised more Regularity, Vistas answering Vistas,
etc. or ordered a Shrubbery, according tO the present
fashionable Taste, with other Satyrical Touches Of the
same Nature, we are Of Opinion it would be a proper Addi-
tion, and then some other less spirited Passages might be
retrenched.6 Upon the whole, Lord Chalkstone is admirably
dressed; his Air and Walk are finely enfeebled, and at
the same time enlivened, through the whole Deportment of

this great Comedian.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was repeated Richard the Third, by Mr. Barry.7

 

The Qualities which constitute Richard's Character are

162

such as require a nice Discernment Of Spirits, otherwise
the Actor will be likely tO fail in the distinguishing
Singularities Of this very complicated Hero. This, we
imagine, is the Case in many Scenes, as this Actor per-
forms them. The deep designing Villainy Of Richard is
generally converted into Rant in the SOliloquies, which
are never agitated with the Passions, except where Joy
transports him. They are mostly Situations of dark, cool,
and deliberate Wickedness, and should be uttered with

deep and grave Tones Of Voice, and a gloomy Countenance.
These two Requisites Nature has denied this Performer,
thO' she has been very liberal to him in Qualifications
for Love, Grief, and enraged Tenderness. Accordingly, he
does not seem to carry with him that covered Spirit of
Enterprize, which is so peculiar a Mark Of the Character:
He is tOO turbulent in all the Scenes where he is alone;
and the Humour of Richard, which never should take Off the
Mask, is with him too free and Open. Richard's Pleasantry
never rises tO Mirth; it always proceeds from what the

Poet calls the mala mentis gaudia, the wicked Pleasures

 

Of the Mind;8 and it should therefore never become totally
jocund, but should ever be a mixed Emotion Of Joy and
Malice. Where he jokes about his Score or two of Taylors,
and finds himself a marvellous prOper Man, there should

be no free Exultation, because his Mirth is ironical, and
he is still sensible Of his own Deformity, and therefore

he should smile and smile, and be a Villain.9 This Rule

163

will hold all through, except in the triumphant Self-
Congratulations Of Ambition. The Love Scene, we apprehend,
he entirely mistakes: Richard has a Tongue that can
wheedle with the Devil, but not pour out the melting Har-
mony Of Romeo. Richard indeed says afterwards, He truly

loved,10

but his Love was nothing more than Lust. Were
he capable of having real Regard for a Woman, he could
never have recourse tO Expressions Of his Passion suitable
to a Varanes;11 and as he only intended to have her, but
not keep her long, however he might smooth his Face in
Smiles, his Words could not come from him like Flakes Of
feathered Snow that melted as they fell. In the Scenes

Of Hurry and Bustle Mr. Barry rises upon his Audience,

but is sometimes apt to set out with his Voice strained
to its utmost; by which Means it becomes thin, and there-
fore does not carry with it sufficient Terror. Upon the
whole, we think this Contest lies between Mr. Barry and
Mr. MOSSOp.12 If the former could play the three first
Acts as well as Mr. Mossop, he would excel his Antagonist:
And if the latter were as quick and animated as Mr. Barry

in the two last Acts, he would approach very near to Mr.

Garrick.

 

lSee Theatre NO. 2.

2David ROSS. 1728-1790, performed in Dublin in
1749 and made his first appearance at Drury Lane in 1751.
Essex was acknowledged as one Of his best roles. A

164

competent tragedian, particularly in the pathetic and
domestic varieties, at this time in his career he Often
played the role Of the lover in genteel comedy.

3Hannah Pritchard, 1711-1768, held the stage for
thirty-six years. She was highly regarded in all kinds
Of parts and some gave her precedence over Mrs. Cibber
for general excellence. Renowned in characters Of in-
trigue, mirth, and gaiety, she was equally effective in
roles as far apart as Doll Common and Lady Macbeth.

4This one-act dramatic satire was based on James
Miller's An Hospital for Fools (1739) and was Garrick's
first play. It was presented at Drury Lane on April 15,
1740. Garrick made a number Of revisions over the years
and in 1756 introduced the character of Lord Chalkstone.
Elizabeth Stein, David Garrick, Dramatist (New York,
1938). pp. 25 and 33.

5Lord Feeble was introduced in Nos. 90 and 91
(1754) Of Edward Moore's periodical The World.

6Murphy refers to the penchant for regularity in
architecture and gardening that was actually at this time
being replaced by a taste for Gothic and Chinese styles.
See for example The World, Nos. 15, 117, 118, and 178
(1753-56). The Older fashion was the one in which "every
grove should nod at a rival, and every walk be paired with
a twin-brother" (World, NO. 15); "of gardening which
projected gravel waIks, clipt yews, and straight lined
avenues, with a profusion of brick walls, iron palisades,
and leaden images." (World, NO. 178). The "Tin-Cascade“
pointed up the artifiCiality Of the fashion for it was a
standard stage-prop in pantomimes; Murphy sometimes used
"Tin-Cascade" as a symbol Of the tastelessness and inanity
Of these entertainments. See Eli! NO. 33 (1754), and NO.
14 (1786).

7See Theatre NO. 4.

 

 

 

 

8Virgil, Aeneid, VI, 278-9.

9"That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain."
Hamlet, I, v, 108.

10Murphy alludes to a scene not in the original
but one introduced by Colley Cibber in his 1699/1700
adaptation. Alice Wood, The Stage History Of Shakespeare's

 

Kin Richard the Third (New York, 1909), p. 83. In this
scene (III: 17. after Richard has decided that Lady Anne

165

has outlived her usefulness, she accuses him Of having
dissembled all his vows Of love and he answers:

Not one--for when I told thee so I lov'd:

Thou art the only soul I never yet deceiv'd.
In The Dramatic Works Of Colley Cibber (London, 1777), II.

llVaranes in Nathaniel Lee's Theodosius; or, The
Force of Love (1680) was particularly suited to Barry's
talents as a lover. For a review Of Barry in this part
see Theatre NO. 34.

12Henry Mossop, 17292-17742, despite vanity,
pomposity, and stilted mannerisms, was one Of the most
popular and one Of the best tragedians of this era. In
tragedy, he took second place only tO Garrick and Barry
and in some roles rivalled them.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 1-3, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 6.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 2, 1757.
This Evening was repeated the Tragedy of gepe.
After the Play was acted the last new Farce, called the
Reprisal, for the Benefit Of the Author, of which we shall

give some Account in a future Paper.l

Covent—Garden, Same Day.

Richard the Third again, by Mr. Barry; For an

 

Account Of him, yige our last. After the Play was pre-
sented a Farce, taken chiefly from a Comedy Of Mr. Dry-
den's.2 Whenever this Piece is performed again we recom-
mend to our Readers to pay a visit to Mrs. Woffington in
the Character Of the Fine Lady, which,we think, will af-
ford them a very high Entertainment, her Figure being

whimsically delightful, and her acting admirable.3

Drury-Lane, 3d.

A Comedy called The Wonder, by Mrs. Centlivre,

 

was presented here this Night. This Piece was first pro-
duced in the Year 1713, and dedicated to his present

Majesty, at a very remarkable Juncture.4 He was then at

166

167

Hanover, and a Writ was demanded here by the Whigs to call
him to his Seat in the House of Peers, as Duke of Cambridge,
which was then his Title. This, however, was refused; and
it shewed no small Spirit in a Woman to make so public a
Declaration of her Zeal for the Succession in the House

of Hanover. When the Royal Family came over to the Throne
Of these Realms, they honoured the Play with their Pre-
sence, and made a very handsome Present, as it is said, to
the Writer. We are informed this Comedy is founded on a

Spanish Story.5

The Dialogue is very paltry in general,
and the Characters are not marked with any separating
Peculiarities, unless the Jealousy Of Don Felix may be
accounted such. As Mrs. Centlivre understood the Busi-
ness Of the Stage, she has contrived tO keep the Attention
Of her Audience alive by a very quick Succession Of
Scenes. Don Felix is admirably performed by Mr. Garrick.
His Situation in the last Act is diverting; and the whole
Scene between him and Miss Macklin6 has many Touches in
the Execution, very good on the Side of that promising
Actress, and exquisite on the Part Of our admired Comed-
ian. Mr. Woodward and Mrs. Clive are, according tO Cus-
tom, highly pleasant:7 And upon the whole, this Play is
a Proof that what the Players call Business will succeed

Without Writing, when it is in the Hands Of such excellent

Performers.

168

Covent—Garden, Same Day.
Was repeated Wit without Money, by Beaumont and

Fletcher.8

If the Manager does not get Money by this
Play, he will have neither Money nor Wit;9 for he has
really shewn none by the Revival. Like most Of the Plays
Of these Authors, the Plot is wild, inconsistent, and
improbable. There is however one, and we think but one
good Scene; which is, when the Hero strips to return his
Friends their Cloaths; with which they had rigged him for
his Adventure. There is not much Wit in the Dialogue:
The Humour is not equal to what these Writers have pro-
duced in other Places, and therefore we could wish a

better Choice had been made on this Occasion. Of the

Acting we chuse to say nothing.

 

lTobias Smollett's farce, The Reprisal; or, The
Tars of Old England, was first produced on Jan. 22, 1757,
at Drury Lane. London Stage, Part 4, 1,577. The intended
"future account" of this work did not appear in the Chroni-
gle; however, Murphy gave it a scathing review, actually
a counter-attack for the Critical Review's deprecatory
appraisal Of his A rentice the previous season, in the
Literary Magazine OE Jan. IS-Feb. 15, 1757. See Sherbo,
New Essays, pp. 109-10.

2Henry Dell's The Frenchified Lagy Never in Paris,
first played on March 23, 1756. (London Stage, Part 4,
II, 533.), was an adaptation Of Colley Cibber's The.
Comical Lovers, or Marriage 8 la Mode (1707) which in
turn owed its genesis to a combinatiOn Of Dryden's
Marriage 8 la Mode (1673) and his Secret Love (1667).
Leonard R. Ashley, Colley Cibber (New York, 1965), p. 61.

3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

See Theatre NO. 2, n. 7.

169

4The Wonder: A Woman Keeps a Secret was first
acted at Drury Lane on April 27, 1714. Bowyer, Centlivre,
p. 152. For Murphy's source of the following information
about the dedication of this play, see above, p. 112.

 

 

5Her only definite source was Edward Ravenscroft's
The Wrangling Lovers (1677) but there were a number of
French, Spanish, Italian, and English plays that dealt
with the same subject. Bowyer, Centlivre, p. 172.

6Maria Macklin, 1733-1781, daughter of the great
actor, Charles Macklin, made herdebut in 1753. Though
never a great actress, she was highly trained and compe-
tent in both comedy and tragedy.

7For Woodward see Theatre No. 3, n. 14; for Mrs.
Clive, No. l, n. 5.

8

 

 

See Theatre No. 4, n. 11.

9John Rich, 1682-1761, long-time manager of Covent
Garden and an exceptional Harlequin, was held in little
regard by Murphy and other critics because of his pen-
chant for pantomimes and entertainments. See above, p. 25.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 3-5, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 7 .

Drury-Lane, Feb. 4, 1757.

The Comedy called The Suspicious Husband, which

 

was very justly received with great Applause at Covent-
Garden Theatre in 1747, was acted here this Evening, to
a crowded Audience.1 Ranger, Clarinda, and Strictland,
are the principal Personages in this Play; their Charac-
ters have separating Qualities to distinguish them from
the general Mass of human Life. As Jacky Meggot is only
just beheld and lost, we cannot think he ranks as a
Character: The Author has started the Game, but not
hunted it down, and in the Sportman's Phrase we may cry
out, "Stole away."2 An Englishman returned from Paris
has been frequently exhibited, but Characters from Italy
are somewhat uncommon:3 Tho' indeed of late the Singu-
larity is diminished: Mr. Archibald Bower having thought
proper to entertain the Town with one highly remarkable;
but his Adventures from Macerata to the Canton of Bern,
tragi-comic indeed in themselves, are rather too far re-

moved from Probability for the Stage.4 Erasmus, it is
true, has observed one Circumstance which might render

170

171

that Hero fit for the Drama. The Pretence of reforming
Religionists, says he, zealously fond of an Innovation of
Principles, however serious and tragical they may begin,
gradually end like a Comedy in a Marriage.5 But to re-
turn: the Dialogue of this Comedy is not inspirited with
the Wit of Congreve. It is, however, always sensible,
often sprightly, and never rises to a Disregard of Nature.
Ranger is ever a good Companion, without being a pro—
fessed Wit; he says lively Things with an easy and spirit-
ed Negligence; his Frolics are diverting; and the Humour
of his Character arises from his Resolution to trouble his
Head about no body's Business, and his yet being the

very Man who undesignedly, in the Pursuit of his Plea-
sures, brings about all the Discoveries and lively In-
cidents in the Play. He is the Reverse of Marplot, and
fairly puts all Characters to Bed.6 This is, perhaps,
“the first Part in which Mr. Garrick enchanted the Town
:in Comedy.7 The laughing careless Disposition of Ranger
its finely represented by him, and the Vivacity of his
Chountenance almost converts every Thing to Wit, where
tilere is really none. More is meant than meets the Ear
from this Actor in general. The Scene between him and
CELarinda, where he is making Love to his Cousin, is acted
inimitably by him and Mrs. Pritchard. Mr. Woodward sets

cm1:: so well, that we could wish he did not stay so much

172

at home with his Aunt, and that he gave us more of his

Company.8

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Wit without Money again. Too common a Case!

 

Drury-Lane, 5th.
The Careless Husband, already mentioned by us,

was repeated this Night.9 As the FOps of the last Age

 

are now totally obliterated, we could wish Mr. Woodward
would copy some Model in modern-practised Life, and then

his great Spirits would have a visible Direction, and

render him complete in this Character.10 Lady Betty

Modish is not the Character Miss Pritchard has played

11

best. The Part indeed requires an experienced Actress;

and we wish we could say to her in regard to her Per-
formance, as we can truly in respect of her elegant

Appearance, 0 Matre pulchra filia pulchrior.12

 

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Wit without Money again. For the Manager's Sake,

 

we wish this could be inverted, and then he would have

his Pockets pretty full: And for our own Sakes, we

should be glad to have Wit for our Money.13

lBenjamin Hoadly's play was one of the most pOpu-
lar comedies of the period; it was presented by the
Patent theatres 178 times between 1747 and 1776. London
§EE§13, Part 4, I, clxii—clxiv.

173

2A common phrase of the hunt in reference to an
animal having left its lair unperceived and gained a
start on its pursuers. O.E.D., sub steal.

3Hoadly's Jack Meggot, just returned from Italy,
has the cultural affectations and pretensions which made
the undiscriminating traveler one of the standard subjects
Of satire in this period. Murphy alludes to his own
satirical farce, The Englishman from Paris (1756), and to
Samuel Foote's more popular The Englishman Returned from
Paris (1756) which Foote ostensibly plagiarized from
Murphy. See above, p. 16.

 

 

4Archibald Bower, 1686-1766, author of The History

of the Popes (5 vols., 1748-1761), was at this time en-
gaged in a paper—war over the veracity of his alleged
religious convictions and of the experiences he claimed

to have undergone. Writing as an ex-Jesuit, he had pub-
lished a dubious account of the Inquisition at Macerata
and his escape from Italy which was answered by a number
of pamphlets, some satirical. D.N.B., VI, sgb_Bower.

5I have not been able to find the source of this
observation.

 

 

6Marplot, in Mrs. Centlivre's The Busy Body (1709),
wanders about trying to be of service to his friends but
invariably manages to interrupt their intrigues. Bowyer,
Centlivre, p. 99. "Who fairly puts all Characters to
Bed." POpe, "The First Epistle of the Second Book of
Horace Imitated," 291. See Theatre No. 15.

 

 

7Garrick had been acclaimed in a number of comic
roles between his London debut in 1741 and the premier of
TheSuspicious Husband, in 1747. See Carola Oman, David
GarrickiTSuffolk, 1958), chaps. 2-3, and Fitzgerald,
Garrick, I, 82-199, passim.

8In Act I, iii, we are informed that Jack Meggot,
played by Henry Woodward, resides with his aunts.

9

 

See Theatre No. 1.

10See Theatre No. 3, n. 14.

11Hannah Pritchard's daughter made a highly ac-
C-‘f-aimed debut on Oct. 9, 1756, as Juliet but never ful-
fJJlled the expectations held for her as an actress. In
1762 she married the actor John Palmer and left the stage

174

in 1768, the same year that her mother retired. Lady
Betty Modish was one of the parts in which her mother

excelled.
12"O maiden, fairer than thy mother fair."
Horace, Odes, I, xvi, 1.

13See Theatre No. 6.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 5-8, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 8.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 5, 1757.
This Evening was presented the Tragedy of Cato,
written by the justly admired Mr. Addison, and exhibited

1 This

at the Theatre in Drury-Lane in the Year 1713.
Play was intended at that Juncture, when Party-Feuds
distracted the Nation, to enforce the Spirit of Liberty,
and awaken a Regard for our noble Constitution in the
Breasts of Englishmen. Sir Richard Steele has informed

us, in a Letter to Mr. Congreve concerning his Friendship
for Mr. Addison, wherein he vindicates himself from the
Indelicacy in his Behaviour charged upon him by Tickell,
that he was obliged to urge very pressing Arguments, in
order to prevail over the Author's natural Timidity, before
he could get his Consent to adventure it on the Stage.2

Sir Richard's Zeal was, however, very ardent for the

Whig Party, which he thought would be greatly served by
this Performance; and he therefore undertook to bring to-
gether such an Audience on the first Night, as would put

the Success out of all Danger. The Tories were resolved

on their Part not to be distanced by the Zeal of the

175

176

opposite Party; and the Struggle between both Sides was,
which should be most violent in Applause: And from an
Anecdote in one of Pope's Letters we learn, that the
Lord Bolingbroke, then Secretary of State, called for
Mr. Booth, who played 9339, into the Stage-Box, and gave

him fifty Guineas in a Purse, for Maintaining so well

 

the Cause of Liberty, and opposing a Perpetual Dictator.

 

To this, says POpe, the Whigs are now preparing an An-
swer.3 Certain it is the prodigious Success of the Play,
however noble in Sentiment and Diction, was in a great
measure owing to the national Divisions. The Play was
translated into Italian and French; but we never could
learn that it conduced to the Improvement of the pretty

Princes in Italy, or that it has been in usum Delphini.4

 

Many elegant Copies of Verses were sent to the Author

on the Occasion; but the noblest Enconiums were given
him by Mr. Pope in his admirable Prologue, which was
finely calculated to interest the Audience in the Piece.
To do Justice to the Memory of Mr. Addison, we must allow
that it was no common Effort of Genius to raise such a
beautiful Superstructure upon so narrow a Foundation.
The Death of Cato does not offer, at the first View of
it, any alarming Situations: It is barren of Incident,
and has very little of what the Players call Business.
Hence, it has been a Fashion among over-refining Critics

to censure this Tragedy with great Severity of late Years:

177

But it should be considered, that to protract so simple
an Action into five Acts shewed a creative Imagination,
and that there are many noble Passages in the Play.
Such are the two Scenes between Syphax and Juba; such
is Cato's little Senate; such is the Scene where he
opposes his naked Breast to the Conspirators; the Close
of the fourth Act; the sublime Soliloquy in the fifth
Act; and the dying Words of Cato. Voltaire has justly
observed, that the Love-Plot throws a Languor over the
whole:5 The Business, during the Scenes of softer Pas-
sion, always stands still; and is therefore uninter-
esting. The Character of Cato is wonderfully well
imagined, and greatly sustained all thro': Sempronius
is distinguished by a daring Spirit of Enterprize; and
the wily African has appropriate Peculiarities. The
rest of the Personages, both Men and Women, are fainter
Representations of the Hero. The Sentiments, as far
as they regard the three first, are always suitable to
the Character: The Language is polished into an Ele-
gance all thro', and is often nervous and sublime. The
Poet is too fond of Similies, and introducing them with
"So where, etc." However, two of these Comparisons are
wrought up into very noble Imagery.

---Thou hast seen Mount Atlas,

When Storms and Tempests thunder on his Brows,

And Ocean break their Billows at his Feet,

178

It stands unmov'd, and glories in his Height.

Such is that haughty Man: His tow'ring Soul

Midst all the Shocks and Injuries of Fortune,

Rises superior and looks down on Caesar.6
The other is in the Mouth of Syphax, and has a double
Beauty, as it illustrates and heightens the Subject it
is applied to, and at the same time is an Instance of
the natural Propensity of the Mind to drive its Rea-
sonings from its habitual Ideas.

So where our wide Numidian Wastes extend,

Sudden th' impetuous Hurricanes descend;

Wheel thro' the Air, incircling Eddies play,

Tear up the Sands, and Sweep whole Plains away;

The helpless Traveller, with wild Surprize,

Sees the dry Desart all around him rise,

And, smother'd in the dusty Whirlwind, dies.7
These are Flights of Elevation beyond the modern Muse's
Wing; and however our Audiences in general are fond of
Performances where the Passions are more intensely agi-
tated than in this Piece, it must be allowed, in Spite
of fashionable Criticism, that Cato, upon the whole, is
the Work of Genius, and that such a Composition would
do Honour to any Age or Country. Having said so much
of the Writing, we shall take another Opportunity to

animadvert on the Acting. After the Play was presented,

179

for the first Time, a new Farce called, The Author; of

which hereafter.8

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Wit without Money again!

 

Drury-Lane, 7th.

Was presented the Tragedy of The Revenge, written

 

by Doctor Young, presented first in 1721, with great
Applause. If we are not greatly mistaken, this Play is

founded on a Story told in the Spectator.9 We cannot

 

consider it as a Copy of Othello: It has only the nec-
essary Coincidencies, that will inevitably be found in
Writers who treat resembling Subjects; and to succeed
after such a masterly Hand as Shakespear, is a Proof of
an uncommon Genius. In the working of the Jealousy
there is nothing like Imitation: Zanga is an original
Character, and borrows no Aids from Iago: He has an
Head for any dark Machination to compass his Revenge;
and it is observable that, where a less fruitful Fancy
would have fallen into a near Similitude, he has finely
varied the Circumstances. Iago begs his General to scan
this Matter no further; Zanga recommends to Alonzo to
do Nothing rashly, but to weigh each Circumstance; both
natural Strokes; because it is certain, in the former
Instance, that a Mind once disordered loves to pore

over what gives it Pain, the more so for being forbid

180

to do it: And in the latter Case Zanga sends Alonzo
to think, -- "that is to be undone."10 There are T
many-elegant Touches of Poetry in this Play, and

Zanga often rises to the Sublime. There is however,

no other Character in the Piece but his; Alonzo is

very inferior to Othello; and Eleonora is not sufficiently
interesting. In as much as Zanga is superior to the

other Personages of the Piece, so is Mr. Mossop to all

the other Performers.ll He closes the fourth Act with
fine dignified Feelings of Remorse, and in the fifth,

when he greatly discovers his deep-laid Plot, (a Stroke
entirely new and differing from Shakespear) this Actor
utters every Word with such an animated Glow, that
irresistibly he commands the thundering Applause of

all his Auditors, and stamps himself an excellent Actor

on every Imagination.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Wit without Money again. After the Play was

 

given a strange Representation of human Nature degraded
to the lowest Offices, throwing itself into contemptible
Distortions, and tingling Bells to please a Parcel of

Children Six Feet high.12

 

1Cato was first played on April 14, 1713, at

Drury Lane. London Stage, Part 2, I, 299.

 

181

2Thomas Tickell, the editor of Addison's works,
had generally disparaged Steele in the preface to the
edition. In a public letter to Congreve (Dec. 1721),
prefixed to an edition of the play The Drummer which
Steele claimed should be included among Addison's works,
Steele said of Cato: "All the town knows how officious
I was in bringing it on; and you, that know the town,
the theatre, and mankind, very well, can judge how
necessary it was to take measures for making a perform-
ance of that sort, excellent as it is, run into popular
applause. I promised before it was acted, and performed
my duty accordingly to the author, that I would bring
together so just an audience on the first days of it,
it should be impossible for the vulgar to put its suc-
cess or due applause to any hazard." The Letters of
Richard Steele, ed. R. Johnson (London, 1927): p. 167.

3In a letter to John Caryll of April 30, 1713,
Pope mentioned the contest of applause between the
Whigs and Tories and went on to say: "I believe you
have heard that after all the applauses of the opposite
faction, my Lord Bullingbrooke sent for Booth who
played Cato, into the box, between one of the acts and
presented him with 50 guineas; in acknowledgment (as
he expressed it) for his defending the cause of liberty
so well against a perpetuall dictator: the Whigs are
unwilling to be distanced this way, and therefore de-
sign a present to the said Cato very speedily." Eggf
respondence of Alexander Pope, ed. George Sherburn
(Oxford, 1956), I, 175.

4"(attrib. use of Latin del hini in the phrase
ad usum Delphini, 'for the use of tEe Dauphin'.) Of
or pertaining to the Dauphin of France, and to the
edition of Latin Classics, prepared 'for the use of the
Dauphin,‘ son of Louis XIV." O.E.D., EER delphini.

 

 

 

 

 

 

5"La coutume d'introduire de l'amour a tort et
a travers dans les ouvrages dramatiques passa de Paris
a Londres, vers l'an 1660, avec nos rubans et nos per-
ruques. Les femmes, qui y parent les spectacles, comme
ici, ne veulent plus souffrir qu'on leur parle d'autre
chose que d'amour. Le sage Addison eut 1a molle com-
plaisance de plier 1a sévérite de son caractére aux
moeurs de son temps, et gata on chef—d'oeuvre pour

avoir voulu plaire." "Sur La Tragédie," in Lettres
Philos0phiques (1734), Oeuvres Completes, XXII, 155-56.

 

 

6II, Vi, 10-160

182

711' Vi, 51-57.

8See Theatre No. 12.

9Murphy is answering Mottley's observation that
Edward Young's play was based on Othello. The story of
the jealousy of Don Alonzo that Murphy refers to did
not appear in the Spectator but in Steele's Guardian,
No. 37 (April 23, 1713).

10

 

III, 1.

11See Theatre No. 5, n. 12.

12John Rich in the pantomime Harlequin Sorcerer.
It was the original version of this pantomime, first
produced in 1725 with Rich as Harlequin, that "took
the town by storm," made Rich's career, and created
almost overnight a passion for these entertainments
that remained unabated for the better part of the cen-
tury. Thelma Niklaus, Harlequin (New York, 1956), p.
139. When dealing with pantomimes, Murphy often uses
the phrase "ringing of bells" as a synecdoche for the
inane sounds, motions, and machinery that constituted
these productions. In the last line of the review, he
is playing on the title of his friend Christopher
Smart's A Collection of Pretty Poems for the Amusement
of Children Six Foot High (1756).

 

 

 

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 8-10, 1757.

THE THEATRE . NO . 9 .

Drury-Lane, Feb. 8, 1757.

The Comedy called, The Careless Husband, was re-

 

peated this Evening. After the Play was presented the

last new Pantomime called, Mercury Harlequin.l We sup—

 

pose it is an intended Elegance in this Performance to
invert the Title; in all the French little Pieces wherein
Harlequin is concerned, his Name standing first; and
generally, on the English Stage, the Precedence being

determined to him; as Harlequin Sorcerer, Harlequin

 

 

Skeleton, Harlequin Doctor Faustus, etc.2 But perhaps

 

the Author of this Piece had a Mind to shew his Regard

to the Heathen Mythology: If so, it carries a Moral

with it; because, if a Deference is paid to the Dreams

of Pagan Theology, does it not inculcate to all Unbelievers
that a proper Regard is also due to a sublimer System?

In this Deistical Age we could wish the Remark were duly
Observed.3 Tho' we must observe one material Exception

we have to this Piece, in regard to the Purity of Manners
(Conduct, Sentiment, and Diction, we do not pretend to

criticise) which is, that to roast a Frenchman is not

183

184

very charitable, nor indeed political; because we have,
perhaps, lately so roasted the French, that we have

burnt ourselves.4

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Richard the Third again. We have not perceived

 

any Reason to make any Alterations in our former Judgment
concerning the Performance of this Character, in regard
to the Deficiencies, nor to add to our Encomiums, with
respect to any new Beauties struck out by the Actor.5

After the Piece, The Frenchify'd Lady. Would it not be

 

worth the Manager's While, and would it not answer Mrs.
Woffington's Trouble, to revive the Play as wrote orig-

6 In the Contraction there are no Beauties pre-

inally?
served, but in Melantha; and even in that the Colours
are huddled and confused: Whereas, were it represented
at full Length, instead of the Sketch, the Town would
have the Pleasure of seeing a good Comedy; and Mrs.
Woffington's Appearance would give such a Spirit to the

whole, as would make it a very agreeable Night's Enter-

tainment.

Drury-Lane, 9th.

The Mourning Bride repeated, with a new Actress

 

in the Character of Zara.7 This Character requires a
Mrs. Pritchard or a Mrs. Gregory;8 and an unexperienced

ACtress could not adventure upon a more dangerous Part.

185

After the Play, the Farce of The Author, being the third

 

Night. We defer giving our remarks on it till it is
published.9 In the mean Time, we will hint to those of
our Readers, who have a Mind to chase the Spleen with

Laughter, that it will fully answer their Purpose.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Twin-Rivals was acted; a Comedy written by
10

 

Mr. Farquhar, and produced in the Year 1705. This
Piece has many Circumstances in the Fable neither enter-
taining, nor fit for the Stage: and yet it has some comic

Beauties. A great Part of the Story is interesting; and

the Irishman in this Piece, as well as in the Committee,

 

helps to carry on the Business, and to create many humour-

ous Adventures, without the sole Merit of making Bulls.ll

The Irishman in the Committee is, however, the best of

 

the two. Mr. Barrington, as well as we can judge of this

Kind of provincial Acting, abounds in Humour arising from

12 After the Play, Harlequin

Sorcerer, and more Ringing of Bells.l3

a close and just Imitation.

 

 

1By Henry Woodward; it was first performed on
Dec. 27, 1756. London Stage, Part 4, II, 573. '

2These were among the most popular pantomimes of
the day. George Winchester Stone notes, "From 1747 until
his death fourteen years later he [John Rich] rotated
nine elaborate pantomimes as the mainstays of his after-
pieces, running about four each season." Among the nine
were Harlequin Sorcerer, given 210 times in this period,
Harlequin Skeleton (183), and Harlequin Dr. Faustus (38).
London Stage, Part 4, I, xlv.

 

 

186

3For Murphy's views on Deism see Theatre No. 4,
n. 2.

4"Roasted" in the sense of ridiculed, made the
butt of jests. Murphy alludes to the war with France
which at this time was going badly, a number of colonies
having fallen. For the past three months he had been
claiming in The Test that an invasion by France was
probable and that England was militarily and psychologi-
cally unprepared for the war. His scapegoat, of course,
for this situation was the Pitt ministry.

5See Theatre No. 5.

6Murphy refers to Dryden's Marriage 5 la Mode.
For the sources of The Frenchified Lady see Theatre No.
6, n. 2. For Mrs. Woffington see Theatre No. 2, n. 7.

7The "new actress" was one Miss Rosco, of whom
there is virtually no information. London Stage, Part
4, II, 581.

8For Mrs. Pritchard see Theatre No. 5, n. 3. Mrs.
Gregory, d. 1790?, made her London debut in 1754 and
remained a popular performer until her retirement in
1773; however, most of these years were Spent on the
Dublin stage. Her best roles were those of the heroine
in pathetic tragedy. Murphy thought highly of her in
these parts and was one of the first critics to champion
her. See GIJ, No. 19 (1754).

9

 

 

 

See Theatre No. 12.

10This play was first acted on Dec. 14, 1702.
London Stage, Part 2, I, 29.

11For Teague in Robert Howard's The Committee see
Theatre No. 2, n. 13.

12About John Barrington, d. 1773, there is little
information. A comedian, he made his first appearance in
the 1745-46 season and seems to have spent much of his
time on the Irish stage. Tate Wilkinson said of him,
"Mr. Barrington was not a very good comedian; but yet
was in low Irishmen, (Mr. Moody indeed excepted) the best
I ever say--such as the Teagues, in the Committee, Twin
Rivals, etc." Memoirs, I, 123.

13

 

 

 

See Theatre No. 8, n. 12.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 10-12, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 10.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 10, 1757.

The Comedy of The Suspicious Husband, mentioned

 

by us already, was presented here this Evening.l Without
any Aggravation of Features, which is perhaps the Case

in the original Painting of Kitely, Mr. Strictland is
finely exposed to the Ridicule of Mankind.2 Has not Ben
Johnson sometimes carried Matters too far? and does he
not fall under the Censure which Seneca has passed on the

Luxuriancy of Ovid? Nescivit quod bene cessit relinquere;

 

when a Thing is happily said, he does not know how to
leave it, but teazes us with touching and re-touching.3

In The Suspicious Husband nothing of this sort can be

 

charged to the Author: The Incertitude of the Mind
tinctured with Jealousy, prying into every thing, inclined
to place a Confidence in Domestics, and yet starting back
on itself, and hesitating to do it, is strikingly, but
not improbably portrayed; and in the Close of the Piece,

when Truth breaks in upon him, when he sees and feels

 

0 I O 4 O I I a I I
himself ridiculous, it is from irreSistible Circumstances,

 

187

188

and without a Violation of Nature, that he resolves upon

a Reformation; no Turpitude being so disagreeable to

Men in general as that of being the Object of Laughter.

If there were any Performer on the Stage capable of
supplying Mr. Garrick's Place, we should be glad to see
him in the Character of Strictland, which, we are informed,
he has a Mind to do on the first Appearance of this Play.5
We should then see the latent Foibles of the Mind, not
flung into Shades, but standing forth upon the Canvas in
strong and natural Attitudes. We should then see---But
we reserve this Matter till Every Man in his Humour is
next acted, when, we think, we shall have a very fair

Subject for Criticism.6 After this Play was acted The

Intriguing Chambermaid, written by the late humourous Mr.

 

Fielding;7 in every one of whose Pieces, though there is
sometimes Irregularity, Hurry, and Inadvertence, yet
there is always infinite Pleasantry, and, in Shakespear's
Words, 'He never wants the natural Touch.'8 The last
Part of this Remark we must also appropriate to Mr.'
Woodward and Mrs. Clive in this Performance, as well as
many others:9 He who can behold them without Laughing,
may conclude that either his Body or Mind is disordered;

and should immediately consult a Monroe, or a Taylor.10

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Richard the Third again. We have been guilty of

 

189

an Omission in not doing early Justice to Mrs. Woffing-

11 In a Piece of Painting

ton's Excellence in this Play.
one always looks at the capital Figure first; and

though it may sometimes so happen that there are Excep-
tions to be made to the Drapery, the Attitude, the Ex-
pression of Passions in the Countenance, etc. of the Hero
of the Work, yet we sometimes find the Graces of a

Master-Hand in some secondary Personage, and here and

there some Strokes of Merit in the general Accompagnement

 

du Tableau.

 

 

1See Theatre No. 7.

2Kitely, a character in Jonson's Every Man in his

 

Humour. In Theatre No. 30 Murphy again mentions the in-
fluence of Every Man on The Suspicious Husband, and in
the second Theatre No. 30 he compares Jonson's Kitely and
Hoadly's Strictland.

 

 

3Controversiae, IX, 5, 17.

4In Act V, ii, Strictland says, "I see, I feel
myself ridiculous."

 

5Garrick usually took the part of Ranger.

6See Theatres No. 29, 30, and the second No. 30.

7Fielding's two-act farce was first acted on Jan.
15, 1734 at Drury-Lane. London Stage, Part 3, I, 358.

 

8Murphy is playing on: "From whence himself does
fly? He loves us not,/He wants the natural touch,..."
Macbeth, IV, ii, 9.

9For Woodward see Theatre No. 3, n. 14; for Mrs.
Clive, No. l, n. 5.

190

10Probably John Monro, 1715-1791, at this time
chief physician of Bethlem Hospital. His Remarks on Dr.
Battie's Treatise on Madness (1758) "has the distinction
of being the first contribution to psychiatry to come
from Bethlem Hospital." A Treatise on Madness and Remarks
on Dr. Battie's Treatise, ed. R. Hunter and Ida MacAlpine
(London,’l962), p. 18. Taylor is more doubtful. Murphy
may be alluding to John Taylor, 1703-1772, a well-known
surgeon and oculist of the period who wrote a number of
treatises on the human eye. Though a skilled surgeon,
"his methods of advertising were those of the charlatan"
and caused him to be satirized on the stage a number of
times. See D.N.B., LV, E22 Taylor.

11

 

 

For Mrs. Woffington see Theatre No. 2, n. 7.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 12-15, 1757.

THE THEATRE . NO . 11 .

The Earl of Essex was performed here, being the

 

third Time this Season.1 Having already done Justice to
the capital Performers in general, we cannot help being
particular, at present, in regard to Mrs. Cibber.2 The
more lively the Imagination of a Performer is, in suggest-
ing proper Feelings in the various situations of the
Drama, the more difficult will it prove to go through a
Scene not properly impassioned by the Poet, where the
Occasion requires it. The Actor's or the Actress's ideas
will then be aiming at something natural and animated;
and if the Writer's Language has not answered these in-
ward Workings of real Sensibility, an intelligent Per-
former must play with Discontent, from a Consciousness
that the Scene is not work'd up to its due Degree of
Emotion. This we take to be Mrs. Cibbers's Case all
through this Play: There is not any where enough for her
to do, though the Situation and Circumstance of her

Character would have admitted fine Poetry from a masterly

Hand. However, in the Scene between her and Essex, her

191

192

Countenance, so expressive of Grief, supplies the Defi—
ciencies of the Writing; and when she pronounces

And every Object blast when thou art gone,3
Her Face exhibits such a Picture of Sorrow, and the Tones
of her Voice are so harmoniously plaintive, that even
Inhumanity must feel itself softened. In the succeeding
Scene, when her conjugal Affection rises to a Kind of
Phrenzy for the Loss of her Husband, such Wildness, such
Despair, and such a tender Indignation, takes Possession
of her, that her Powers of Voice become astonishing from
the Strength they acquire, and the Melody that accompanies

them in that furious Elevation. The Words of Rowe in the

Fair Penitent faintly describe her.

 

Mad as the Priestess of the Delphic God,
Enthusiastic Passion swell'd her Breast,
Enlarged her Voice, and ruffled all her Form.4

We have only to regret that the bad State of Health of

this Actress, and also of Mr. Garrick, has not permitted

them to appear often enough together this Season.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was performed the Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet.

 

This Play is founded upon an Italian Novel, by Bandello.5

There is Reason to think Shakespear was not Master of
the Italian Language, as it appears that the Circumstance

of Juliet's awaking before Romeo's Death is omitted in a

193

Translation of the Novel, to be seen in the Court of
Pleasure. Had Shakespear seen the Original, he would
never have omitted such a fine dramatic Incident. Otway
perceived this Omission, and in his Caius Marius has
taken Advantage of so beautiful a Circumstance.6 But

we cannot help agreeing with Mr. Garrick in his Preface,
to the Play, as it now stands, that it is surprizing such
a Genius as Otway has not struck out a Scene of more
Nature, Terror, and Distress.7 He who generally spoke
the Language of the Heart, has, in this Instance, given
us nothing but unaffecting Conceits, which can never
agitate the Passions; as was proved some Winters ago,
when Mr. Sheridan attempted to restore Otway's Lines,
amidst the general Hissing of the whole House.8 The
Scene, as it now stands, is written by Mr. Garrick, and
tias not an Idea or Expression through the whole which

is found ineffectual; so well has he judged of the
natural Force of unornamented Dialogue in Distress. It
is in Parts of this Sort that Mr. Barry should attempt

to rival the modern Roscius; because we believe, in

9 If we were to

this, he has divided the Town with him.
decide the Palm between them, we should, perhaps, give
it to Mr. Barry; though the Romeo of Drury-Lane has

peculiar Strokes in many Passages, where he snatches a

Grace, as the Poet has it, beyond the Reach of Imitation.lo

However, in the last Act Mr. Barry's Tones of Voice are

194

purely elegiac, and he captivates all Hearts with such
a resistless Harmony, that perhaps the Distresses of

Love were never better impressed upon an Audience, un-
less the Performance of Tancred and Sigismunda may be

allowed an Exception.ll

Drury-Lane, 14th.
This Evening was performed the Comedy of Amphytrion,

partly taken from Plautus by Mr. Dryden in 1691, and re-
vived this Winter with many Retrenchments and Alterations,
and some Additions from Moliere.12 We cannot help think-
ing a bad Choice was made, when this Comedy was selected.
When the heathen Mythology prevailed, the Subject being
agreeable to the Ideas of the People, it may have been an
entertaining Comedy; but at present, it is too far re-
Imoved from the Regions of Probability to interest a
sensible Audience. It likewise should be considered,
that when the Masque was in Use, the Imposition might be
better kept up, when the Two Sosias could not be distin-
guished from each other. Besides, Ille Ego, being the
common Idiom of the Romans, it could not fail to carry
with it an additional Pleasantry, whereas in English
EEZEE.13 unnatural, and therefore no Merriment arises

13 Many of the Embarrassments, which would be

from it.
otherwise diverting, grow insipid from their Want of

Probability. The Play is altogether well acted: It will

195

be no Novelty to our Readers, if we mention that Mr.
Woodward has great Humour all through; we shall there-
fore pass him by, to mention that Mr. Palmer's Performance
deserves great Commendation; in the Balcony, the Com-
posure of his Manner, and the Tones of his Voice, taken
exactly from Nature, are truly comic, without any Stage

Trick, or over-acted Pleasantry.l4

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was presented The Rivalgueens, written by Nat.

 

Lee, and produced in the Year 1677. This Author has a
great deal of true poetic Fire, and occasionally a great
Command of the Passions. It seems however, that the
Seeds of that Madness, for which he was afterwards con-
fined in Bedlam, began to work in him very early, and to
this it is owing that he so frequently shakes Hands with
Nature, and flies away into the Realms of Chaos and old

15 Alexander was in himself a romantic Hero, and

Night.
passing thro' such an Imagination as Lee's, no Wonder if
he comes out more romantic. Hence the whole Story is
tinctured with Improbability, and is therefore uninter-
esting. The Rules of the Drama are frequently destroyed,
and in general it is such a Jumble of Banquetting, Riot-
ing, Loving, Fighting, Drinking, and Quarrelling, that a

worse Play could not well be chosen to suit the modern

Taste. It was burlesqued by Colley Cibber in a Farce

196

called the Rivalpgueans.16 We are sorry Mr. Barry's
fine Acting in this Play is all thrown away; without

Nature it being impossible to reach the Heart.

 

See Theatres No. 1 and 5.
For Mrs. Cibber see Theatre No. 4, n. 4.

V, iii, 309.

A u: h) be

I, 1, 200-30

5Murphy probably used Mrs. Lennox's Shakespear
Illustrated, I, 97-98, as the source for this and the
following information about the genesis of Romeo and
Juliet. See above, p. 113, and Theatres No. 12 and 13.
Mrs. Lennox claims that Shakespeare did not understand
Italian, for his play is not based directly on the Ninth
Novel of Bandello but on a bad translation into English
(William Painter's The Palace of Pleasure, London, 1567)
of, among other works, a poor French translation of
Bandello entitled Histoires Tregiques extraictes des
Oeuvres de Bandel. One of her proofs is the considerable
difference between Bandello's and Painter's death scenes
that Murphy is discussing here.

6In The History and Fall of Caius Marius (1679),
Thomas Otway transformed the two lovers of Romeo and
Juliet into classical Romans.

 

 

 

 

 

7Garrick revised Romeo and Juliet in 1748 but it
was not published until two years later. Fitderald,
Garrick, I, 229-30. In the advertisement to this edition,
Garrick noted that Otway had made use of the "affecting
circumstance" of Juliet's waking before Romeo dies, but
that it was a "matter of wonder that so great a dramatic
genius did not work up a scene from it of more nature,
terror and distress."

8The fine tragedian and manager of the Smock Alley
Theatre in Dublin, Thomas Sheridan, 1719-1788, father of
Richard Brinsley. Since Caius Marius had not been acted
since 1735, Murphy is referring to Sheridan's adaptation
of Romeo and Juliet, first played in Dublin in 1746
(Nicoll, III, 306I7; but I am not able to identify the
particular performance.

 

197

9See Theatre No. 4, n. 9.

10"And snatch a Grace beyond the Reach of Art."
Pope, Essay_on Criticism, 155.

11The passionate love—affair of the main figures
in James Thomson's tragedy (1744) was a perfect vehicle
for an actor with Barry's particular talents.

12Dryden's Amphitryon; or the Two Sosias (1690)
was revised by JohnHawkesworfixand acted on Dec. 15,
1756, at Drury-Lane, Nicoll, III, 267. The prologue to
Hawkesworth's version said:

The scenes which Plautus drew, to-night we shew
Touch'd by Moliere, by Dryden taught to glow.

l3In Plautus' work (II,i), Sosia, attempting to
convince his master, Amphitryon, that he [Sosia] has two
selves says, "neque lac lactis magis est simile quam ille
ego similest mei": "One drop of milk is no more like
another than that I is like me." In the corresponding
scene in Hawkesworth's version (III, 1), Sosia says, "That
other me, has posted himself there before me, me."

14John Palmer, 1728?-l768, often confused with the
more famous actor by the same name who made his debut in
1762, played roles of the well-bred gentleman in comedies
and the tender heroes of pathetic tragedy.

15Nathaniel Lee's fusing of pathetic and heroic
elements made him one of the most influential writers of
tragedy in the seventeenth century and at this time he was
commonly ranked with Dryden. In 1684 his mind failed
completely and he was confined to Bedlam until 1689, three
years before his death. In Bk. II of Paradise Lost, Satan
has to traverse the realms of "Chaos and old Nightw in
order to reach Eden.

16Cibber's mock-heroic parody of Lee's play was
probably written about 1703. "He reduces the queens to
queans (that is, sluts) and strains even harder than Lee
to produce prodigious similes but fails amusingly."
Ashley, Cibber, p. 75.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 15-17, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 12.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 13, 1757.
The Tragedy of MerOpe was repeated here this
Evening.l Having already given some Account of this
Play, we shall not detain our Readers longer on this
Article, than to observe that Mr. Holland, who performs
the Part of Dorilas, is a very happy Imitator of Mr.
Garrick.2 Whenever we see this Actor, he calls to Mind
two Lines of Ovid, which may very justly describe a
Person, who constantly endeavours to conform his Gait,
his Voice, and Look, to those of the much admired Manager.
---Non illo quisquam solertior alter
Exprimit incessus, vultumque modumque loquendi.3
After the Play was presented Mr. Foote's Farce, called

The Author.4 This Piece is truly of the farcical Kind;

 

the principal Characters being so whimsical, that we can
hardly believe they have any where a real Existence; and
yet, as the Author was obliged to advertise that his
Satire was not directed at any particular Person, we must
imagine it bears a Resemblance to some living Prototype,

otherwise there would have been no Room for the Suspicion.5

198

199

However, real or imaginary, there are such Strokes of the
Bizarre throughout the Farce, that no body can be present
at it without being highly diverted. There is one scene,
in which Mr. Foote convinces us that he can copy from
Nature with great Success. The Character of Vamp the
Bookseller is drawn with Truth; his Features are acknow-
ledged to be exact, without being overcharged in the
Colouring. Every Circumstance about Mr. Yates, both in
his Dress and Manner, is peculiarly adapted to the Trade;
and the Audience are highly pleased with the close
Imitation of Nature, both in the Writer and the Actor.6
Mrs. Clive, though she heightens the Pleasantry of her
Character, yet seems to reduce it within the Bounds of
Nature; at least, if it may be called a Caricatura, it

is very little larger than the Life; Idiots and Drivellers
are, in general, disagreeable Personages in the Exhibition;
but there is no beholding this excellent Actress, without
Laughing at every Turn of her Countenance.7 Mr. Foote's
own Performance has great Merit; the Extravagance of
Cadwallader's Mind and Manner, together with the whimsical
Circumstances of his Dining with the Princes, his Pedigree,
and his Enquiry into the Poet's Amour with his Wife, all
come very properly within the Province of Farce, and
happily answer the End of that Kind of Writing, which is

to raise a Laugh, and send the Audience Home in Good

Humour o

200

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Twin-Rivals: Vide one of our former Papers.8

 

Drury-Lane, 17th.

The Tragedy of Zara, and Lord Chalkstone: Vide
9

 

a former Paper.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
The Tragedy of Hamlet, written by Shakespear, was
performed at this Theatre. This Play is formed upon the

Story of Amleth in the Danish History of Saxo-Grammaticus.

 

If the Reader has a Mind to see the Use Shakespear made

of it, we refer him to Mrs. Lenox's Shakespear Illustrated,

 

where he will find the Passage translated to his Hand by

a Friend of that Lady's.lo

The Story has a very romantic
Air; abounds with Improbabilities; and is such altogether
as would scarce have struck any Imagination but Shake-
spear's. Amleth, we are told, put on the Guise of Folly,
rolled on the Ground, covered his Face with Filth, raked
the Embers with his Hands, etc. How finely has Shake-
spear taken this Hint! And what a dignified Mind has he
presented to us in young Hamlet?----The Ghost is entirely
his own Invention; nothing of this Sort being in the
History: How nobly is that imaginary Personage introduced!
And what a Solemnity of Ideas the Poet has assigned him!

The Scene, in which YOung Hamlet first hears of his

Father's Spirit, is not the most important, but is as

201

finely conducted as any Passage in the Play. The young
Prince's disjointed Manner of asking Questions, and the
minute Exactness of those Questions----Staid it long?----
Armed, say ye?----Pale----or Red----and fixed his Eyes
upon you? etc.11 All these little Touches are agreeable
to the Affections of the Mind, when we talk of a Person
we love either absent or dead, and in the present Case

they serve to alarm the Imagination, and to raise our

Expectation of the Event. In the original Story the

'
.q...__
A C. .- )’xa._~..
F . | 3:-.1. A-n-b

Catastrophe is full of Terror: Amleth, having made the
Nobility drunk, sets Fire to the Palace and during this
Confusion, goes to the Usurper's Apartment, and tells
him that Amleth.was there to revenge his Father's Death;
upon which the King jumping out of Bed, he was instantly
put to Death, and Amleth was proclaimed King. The
Historian concludes with this Remark. "0 brave young
Man, who covered more than human Wisdom under the Guise
of a Natural, and not only secured his own Safety by that
Artifice, but obtained the Means of completely revenging
his Father; and it is now left to every Body to judge

12 If Shake—

which was-greater, his Bravery or Wisdom."
spear had not deviated from this Circumstance, he would
perhaps have given the finest Scenes of Terror in the

last Act that ever have been imagined: and then a Sub-

ject that opens so nobly would have been grand also in

the Close. As the Play now stands, the Innocent, contrary

202

to Tradition, falls with the Guilty; like the Personage
in Tom Thumb, all he boasts is, that he falls the last;
and the World is left to judge which is worst, the
Fencing of the Actors, or the Folly of the Poet in

introducing it.13

 

1See Theatre No. 2.

2Charles Holland made his debut under Garrick's
tutelage in 1755. He had all the requisites of an ex-
ceptional performer and in the heroes of tragedy, for
which he was best suited, was a public favorite. But
his career was brief for in 1769, at the age of thirty-
six, he died of smallpox. Murphy thought highly of this
promising actor and wrote an obituary for him in the
December, 1769, Gentleman's Magazine. See Sherbo, Neg

Essays, p. 138.

3"No one more dexterously than he mimics the
gait, and the countenance, and the mode of speaking."
Metamorphoses, XI, 635-36. trans. H. T. Riley (London,
1858).

 

4This farce of Murphy's friend Samuel Foote,
1720-1777, actor, manager, dramatist, and the great
mimic of the period who regularly parodied the other
actors at his morning "Tea" in the Little Theatre in
the Haymarket, was introduced on February 5th at Drury
Lane. See Theatre No. 8.

5In the Public Advertiser for Feb. 5, Foote
announced: "Whereas it has been represented to the Man-
agers of Drury Lane that Mr. Foote in his new Farce
call'd the Author, intends introducing the Character of
a Gentleman for whom he has the greatest esteem and re-
gard, he thinks it incmmbent upon him to assure the
Public, that all the persons in that piece are ficti-
tious and general. Samuel Foote." London Stage, Part
4, II, 580. Foote, however, has used an acquaifitance
of his, a Mr. Aprice [Apreece], as the model for Cad-
wallader and within a short time Aprice was a public
laughing stock. In January of 1758 the farce was revived
but Aprice induced Garrick to cancel it after one per-
formance. The following December when it was to be

._.I" _--‘n-—-—1
A

203

revived again, Aprice got an order from the Lord Cham-
berlain to stop its being played. See London Stage,
Part 4, II, 608, 644 and 701; Percy Fitzgerald,
Samuel Foote (London, 1910), pp. 145-54.

6Richard Yates, 1706?-l796, held the stage as a
comedian for almost half a century. Though not one of
the great actors of the period, he was a more than com-
petent comedian, particularly in low comic parts, and a
good pantomimist who was often seen as Harlequin. He
was held by some to be unequalled in Shakespearean clowns.

7For Mrs. Clive see Theatre No. 1, n. 5.

8See Theatre No. 9.

9For Zara see Theatre No. 4; for Chalkstone in
Lethe see No. 5.

10For Murphy's use of Charlotte Lennox' study
of Shakespeare's sources see above, p. 113. Mrs. Lennox
says she "was favored" with the translation of Saxo-
Grammaticus "by a friend" but does not identify Hi . She
also notes that she is uncertain about whether Shakespeare
founded his story on a literal translation or "met with
.the incidents drest up like a novel." Shakespear Illus-
trated, II, 267.

 

11:, ii, 213-45.

12Shakespear Illustrated, II, 259.

13At the close of Fielding's burlesque of heroic
tragedy, The Tragedy of Tragedies; or, the Life and
Death of Tom Thumb the Great (1730i, everyone is slain
except the King who kills himself and as he falls says,
"And all I boast is--that I fall the last."

' m‘an mu— 1 fl

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 17-19, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 13.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 17, 1757.
Shakespear's Play, called, The Life of King

Henry the Eighth, was performed here this Evening. The

 

Author of Shakespear Illustrated, observes, very justly,
that there is a Misnomer in the Title, as the whole

Piece only takes in the Transactions of twelve Years of
King Henry's Reign. Holingshed, it appears, was our
Author's historical Guide, the Characters being copied
from him; and in general many of the Sentiments, and

not seldom whole Speeches, are the original Property

of the Historian.1 In treating Facts so well ascertained,
and Characters in general so well understood, Shakespear's
Invention was fettered, and he could not make any con-
siderable Departure from authenticated Tradition. How-
ever, he seems upon most Occasions, as has been remarked
of a celebrated French Poet, to create the Thoughts of
others:2 Every Thing comes from him with an Air of
Originality. When we once forgive him the Violation of
all the Rules of the Drama, we must allow that he greatly

compensates for this want of Regularity by very striking

204

u‘. M _‘.
\

F133;“.- Inn‘—
. fl!

205

Beauties. The Incidents in Harry the Eighth are very
interesting. The Death of the Duke of Buckingham, the
Divorce of Queen Catharine, the Wedding of Anne Bullen,
and the Fall of Woolsey, are important Events, which can-
not fail to attract our Attention. The Character of the
King is set off in such a Glow of Colouring, that though
the Poet has faithfully taken it from Holingshed, it
seems a Personage of his own Invention. The haughty
Churchman is likewise admirably drawn; and if we should
add, that Mr. Mossop's Performance seems to correspond
with the Poet's Idea, it would be very far from a Com-

3 A well imitated sacerdotal Pride appears in

pliment.
every Cast of his Countenance, and in his whole Manner;
his subtlety, his unfeeling Stiffness, and a certain
mean Kind of Craft, are preserved amidst all his Gran-
deur: the Dejection of Spirits which takes Possession
of him afterwards, has still a Sort of fallen Dignity,
and whoever has a Mind to hear the following Lines, among
many others, uttered with all the Graces of Elocution,
is desired to attend this Actor, the next Time he appears
in this Character.

This is the State of Man; To-day he puts forth

The tender Leaves of Hopes, To-morrow blossoms,

And bears his blushing Honours thick upon him;

The third Day comes a Frost, a killing Frost,

And when he thinks, good easy Man, full surely

._1' Any—.1
.,
I

[‘1 'Ce‘n-l‘

206

His Greatness is a ripening, nips his Root,

And then he falls, as I do.4

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Twin-Rivals again.5

 

Drury-Lane, 18th. i
The Wonder; or, a Woman keeps a Secret: Vide

a former Paper.6

9
A“... __

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Provoked Husband was exhibited here this

 

Evening. This Play was begun by Sir John Vanbrugh, at
whose Death four Acts were found, and falling into the
Hands of Mr. Cibber, the Piece was finished for the Stage
by him.‘7 On the first Night's Performance, which was in
1727, we are informed, the Audience made a very remarkable
Mistake. Being inclined to have a Lick at the Laureate,
they fell upon poor John Moody, and treated him, and all
the Passages of real Humour, with strong Marks of Dis-
approbation, while the Scenes, in which Mr. Cibber's

Hand was most concerned, went off with general Applause.
John Moody's Character they all agreed was the Offspring
of Cibber's low Pleasantry. But as soon as Sir John's
four Acts were published, the Voice of the People was
instantly changed.8 What before passed for Buffoonery

was acknowledged to be a true Exhibition of Nature, and

207

the Piece was received with the general Applause it
deserved. Mr. Cibber has made so fine an Use of Sir
John's Remains, that we can hardly think it a Mis-
fortune that this Play was not finished by the original
Author; the more especially, as we are sure his Inten-
tion of turning the Lady out of Doors would not have
had so fine an Effect as the Reconciliation brought
about by Mr. Cibber. And indeed Mrs. Woffington's
Person is so amiable all through, and her very Follies
are so becoming and so enchanting, that we should never
bear parting with her in so rough a Manner.9 Besides
Mr. Barry's manly Sorrow when parting from her, and the
Flood of Joy which breaks in upon him, on their Recon-
ciliation, are such beautiful Circumstances, that we
may justly say of him, what Mr. Cibber has recorded of
Wilks; "I never saw any Passion take so natural a
Possession of an Actor, nor any Actor take so tender a

Possession of his Auditors."lo

 

ers. Lennox says "This Play, tho' called, T§e_
Life of King Henry the Eighth, takes in only the Trans-
actions of tweive Years of his Reign."; "The historical
Facts upon which this Play is founded, are all extracted
from Holingshed; the Characters generally drawn closely
after this Historian, and many of the Speeches copied
almost literally from him." Shakespear Illustrated,
III, 171.

21 am unable to identify the source of this remark.

3For Moss0p see Theatre No. 5, n. 12.

208

5See Theatre No. 9.

6See Theatre No. 6.

7Colley Cibber's The Provoked Husband, fashioned
from the unfinished comedy, A Journey to London, that
Sir John Vanbrugh left at his death in 1726, was first
played in January, 1728. Cibber made the original "more
moral, more sentimental, more regular, more probable."

It was the most acclaimed of all his plays, being given
eighty-two times in twenty-six seasons. Ashley, Cibber,

Pp. 72-73.

8In his Apology (p. 284), Cibber records the in-
cident about his enemies unwittingly damning Vanbrugh's
part of the play but says nothing specific about the
character of John Moody being singled out for disappro-
bation. In the preface to the first edition (1728) he
mentions having published Vanbrugh's four acts in order
to vindicate himself and confound his detractors.

9For Mrs. Woffington see Theatre No. 2, n. 7.

10For Spranger Barry see Theatre No. 4, n. 9.
Cibber said this of the actor and manager Robert Wilks
(see Theatre No. 3, n. 9) in the preface to the first
edition of The Provoked Husband (1728).

mfl _- .—

52: I".—

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 19-22, 1757.
THE THEATRE. No. 14.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 19, 1757.

Mr. Congreve's Comedy, called, The Double Dealer,
was presented here this Evening. Mr. Mossop wants
nothing but being accustomed to the Walks of Comedy, to
qualify him to be very successful in many Characters in
common Life.1 We mention this, because his Deportment
is rather too constrained in Maskwell; though it is but
Justice to say, his Utterance is throughout the Part
very just, graceful, and pleasing; he has likewise con-
ceived the Character well. So good a Performer should,
on all Occasions, assume more Consciousness of his Merit;
and we can assure him, that his Auditors would frequently
find their Pleasure heightened by a Degree of Careless-
ness; whereas at present they sometimes feel it abated

by his over-delicate Diffidence.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
Was revived a Comedy, called, The Rover. We
have determined never to speak of what we have not seen;

and therefore must beg our Readers Indulgence till the

next Opportunity.2
209

Fart-mm--.
1.. v a In: -4-._. A I

 

210

Drury-Lane, let.
This Evening was presented Every Man in his
Humour. In a former Paper we promised a Critique on
this Play; but having Matter of some Moment and Novelty
to offer in our next Article, we chuse to defer this

Matter, in order to speak of rising Merit, not yet so
3

nn‘§.fl‘ A

distinguished as it really deserves to be.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was performed the Tragedy of The Fair Penitent,

r-q ‘£_Z“A"r-H.

written by the late Mr. Rowe.4 The Part of Calista was
so admirably performed by Mrs. Gregory, that we chuse
to dedicate the Remainder of this Part of the Chronicle
to her alone.5 This excellent Actress, not yet suffic-
iently known to our Playhouse Followers, has very great
Requisites for the Stage. In her Person she rises above
that Stature, where, as Mr. Cibber says, the Graceful
begins.6 Her first Appearance strikes us with an Air
of Dignity; her Deportment keeps up that Impression;
her Voice is agreeable in all its Variations; she has
a quick Sensibility of Imagination, which informs every
Feature, and renders her Countenance a varied Mirror of
Passions, that rise and fall by Turns. This is really
wrote down from what we have seen this Night. Mrs.
Gregory seems further to have an Understanding that can

frame just and lively Ideas of Character; and when

211

once her Imagination is impressed with that Character,
it seems to take entire Possession of her. With these
Accomplishments she came forth to perform Calista, or
rather to be Calista; for so in fact she was through-
out the Play. The Fair Penitent has a Mind conscious
of Guilt, but with a lively Sense of Honour, sometimes [
enfeebled with her Weakness for Lothario, and at other i
times actuated with the noblest Passions, all partici— .F
pating of the Glow of Virtue, and driven by Shame to 5
the highest Tumult of Emotion. Accordingly, her first i
Words,
Be dumb for ever, silent as the Grave, etc.
and again,
For oh! I've gone around through all my Thoughts,
But all are Indignation, Love, or Shame;
And my dear Peace of Mind is lost for ever,7
were spoken with a wild Vehemence, that at once seized
the whole Audience. In the Scene between her and Hora-
tio, she discovered all the insolence of guilty Pride,
all the Agony of a Soul stung by its own Consciousness,
and all the Impatience of Reproach from others, so
natural to an elevated Spirit ever ready to reproach it-
self. Her Air and Countenance displayed conflicting
Passions; superior even in Confusion, she beheld
Horatio With a fine Mixture of Astonishment and Indig-

nation, when he first named Lothario; and through that

 

212

whole Passage there was such a Wildness in her Looks and
the Tones of her Voice, as is very uncommon on the
Stage.---
Dishonour blast thee, etc.8
These Words were uttered with such a Burst of
Indignation, as alarmed the Audience, and her Looks and
Attitude were at the same Time astonishingly commanding.
Her Manner of seizing the Paper from Horatio,
and tearing it Piece-meal, had all the Extravagance of
Haughtiness, inwardly hurt and enraged to Fury.
---Henceforth, thou officious Fool,
Meddle no more, nor dare even on thy Life,
To breathe an Accent that may taint my Honour.9
In uttering this, so elevated and warm was her
Manner, that even Virtue shrunk under her, and Horatio
was but the second Person in the Scene.
Mrs. Gregory had a Preservation of Character
all through her Performance. The Wildness of her Despair
in the last Act, when her Heart has almost lulled itself
to Rest, is finely distinguished from her Violence at
setting out.
And dost thou bear me yet thou patient Earth!10
All this Speech was delivered with a Kind of
pent-up Fury; her Manner of stabbing herself, and the

Extravagance of Grief and Remorse in her Countenance,

are strong Circumstances; and upon the whole she had

213

such a forcible Expression of Passions, that we cannot
refrain from what may appear a bold Assertion, but a
true one, that Mrs. Gregory is at least equal, if not
superior to any Actress whatever in this Part. Mrs.
Cibber undoubtedly, when she is impassioned, is harmon—
ious and alarming; but she has some tame Passages:
whereas our new Actress never subsides into still Life,
but is always Calista.ll To conclude, if, in Spite of
Fashion, the Beau Monde does not go to see this excellent
Actress, though at a deserted Theatre, they deserve to
see no other Play but the WONDER for the rest of the

Season.12

 

lFor MOSSOp see Theatre No. 5, n. 12. Compare
the following comments on Mossop with those in Theatres
No. 27 and 34.

2For Murphy's views on Aphra Behn's comedy see
Theatre No. 15.

3For Every Man in his Humour see Theatres No.
29 and 30.

4Nicholas Rowe's pathetic tragedy The Fair Peni-
tent (1703) ranked alongside Congreve's Mourning Bride
and Otway's The Orphan and Venice Preserved in popularity
at this time. LondOn Stage, Part 4, I, clxiii.

 

5For Murphy's special regard for Mrs. Gregory as
a tragedian see Theatre No. 9, n. 8, and Theatres No. 16,
27 and 29.

6In the preface to the first edition (1728) of
his Provoked Husband, Colley Cibber said of the actress
Anne Oldfield, "She was in Stature just rising to that
Height, where the Graceful can only begin to shew it-
self."

214

7II' 1, l, and 6"8.

8111, i, 156.

9Read "Virtue" for "Honour." III, i, 176-8.

10V, i, 228.

11For Mrs. Cibber see Theatre No. 4, n. 4.

12Murphy's views on Mrs. Centlivre's comedy are
set forth in Theatre No. 6.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 22-24, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 15.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 22, 1757.
Mr. Dryden's Play, called, The Spanish Fryar,
exhibited with great Applause, for the first Time, in
1681, was revived here this Evening, for the Benefit of
Mr. Foote, for his Farce of The Author.1 As this Play
is of that Species of the Drama which we understand by

Tragi-Comedy, we cannot, perhaps, do better than to

transcribe Mr. Addison's Remarks on this Kind of Writing.

"The'Tragi-Comedy (says he) which is the Product of the
English Theatre, is one of the most monstrous Inventions
that ever entered into a Poet's Thoughts. An Author
might as well think of weaving the Adventures of Aeneas
and Hudibrass into one Poem, as of writing such a motley
Piece of Mirth and Sorrow. But the Absurdity of these
Performances is so very visible, that I shall not insist
upon it. The same Objections, which are made to Tragi-
Comedy, may in some measure be applied to all Tragedies,

that have a double Plot in them, which are likewise more

frequent upon the English Stage, than upon any other:

For tho' the Grief of the Audience, in such Performances,

215

nil ”1“... A“ .

-

216

be not changed into another Passion, as in Tragi-Comedies;
it is diverted upon another Object, which weakens their
Concern for the principal Action, and breaks the Tide of
Sorrow, by throwing it into different Channels. This In-
convenience, however, may in a great measure be cured,

if not wholly removed, by the skilful Choice of an Under-
plot, which may bear such a near Relation to the princi-
pal Design, as to contribute towards the Completion of
it, and be concluded by the same CatastrOphe."2 Thus

far Mr. Addison: How far Mr. Dryden's Play is liable

to the above Censure, or partakes of the qualifying
Circumstances mentioned in the latter Part of this Crit-
icism, shall be the Subject of our Inquiry in some future
Paper, as we are afraid such a Disquisition would lead

us too far at present.3 Suffice it for this Time to
have hinted such a Criticism to our Readers, who may,

if they have Leisure, and think it worth their while,
examine The Spanish Fryar by the Lights which so fine

a Writer as Addison has offered to their Judgments.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
Was performed The Rover, a Comedy, written by
Mrs. Behn. There are two Plays under this Title by
this Lady, one exhibited first in the Year 1677, the

4

other in 1681. Mr. Pope has passed a very just Censure

on this Writer in the two following Lines:

 

217

The Stage how loosely does Astraea tread,
Who fairly puts all Characters to Bed?5
In the Play before us there is a very remarkable In-
stance of this putting to Bed. One of the Personages
of the Drama takes off his Breeches in the Sight of the
Audience, whose Diversion is of a complicated Nature on f
the Occasion. The Ladies are first alarmed; then the r
Men stare: The Women put up their Fans.--'My Lady Betty, ~i
what is the Man about?'-—Lady Mary, 'sure he is not in i
earnest!'--Then peep thro' their Fans--'Well, I vow, ¢__
the He creature is taking off his odious Breeches--He—-
he--Po!—-is that a11?--the Man has Drawers on.'--Then,
like Mrs. Cadwallader in the new Farce,--'Well, to be
sure. I never saw any Thing in.the Shape of it's--
Mean time, the Delight of the Male Part of the Audience
is occasioned by the various Operations of this Phcnnomenon
on the Female Mind.-—'This is rare Fun, d--n me--Jack,
Tom, Bob, did you ever see any thing like this?--Look
at that Lady yonder--See, in the Stage Box--how she looks
half-averted,‘ etc. etc. It is Matter of Wonder that
the Upper Gallery don't call for an Hornpipe, or, 'Down
with the Drawers,‘ according to their usual Custom of
insisting upon as much as they can get for their Money.7
But to be a little serious, it should be remembered by

all Managers that this Play was written in the dissolute

Days of Charles the Second; and that Decency at least

218

is, or ought-to be, demanded at present. Had this Play
been acted at Edinburgh, the Alarm spread among the
Scotch Clergy would not be in the least surprizing, and
their Invective against Stage Plays would have been just
and seasonable; whereas, we are well informed, their
Displeasure is now directed against a very moral Piece,
subservient to the Purposes of Religion and Virtue: And
we are glad that the Manager of Covent-Garden Theatre is
shortly to make Amends to the Public, for the Revival of

The Rover, by exhibiting on his Stage The Tragedy of

 

Douglas; of which the Reader may see a Character in Mr.

Hume's Dedication prefixed to his Four Dissertations,

lately published by Mr. Millar.8

 

lDryden's play was first acted near the beginning
of November, 1680. London Stage, Part 1, 292; For The
Author see Theatre No. 12.

ZSpectator No. 40, April 16, 1711.

3Unless Theatre No. 10, Nov. 14-16, 1758, can be
considered his, Murphy never realized the projected re-
view of this drama.

4Aphra Behn's second work by this title was a
seldom played sequel to the first. The initial Rover was
this author's best dramatic work and was performed more
than 200 times between 1677 and 1775. Frederick M. Link,

Aphra Behn (New York, 1968), pp. 52 and 65.

5"The First Epistle of the Second Book of Horace
Imitated," 290-910

6Mrs. Cadwallader, character in Foote's The Author.
See Theatre No. 12, n. 5. Murphy may be quoting the line
from the stage version, for it appears in neither the 1757
nor 1778 editions of this farce.

AP -A— _..,..._-__
L.

"1. in 41...:

219

7For the nature of the upper-gallery audience see

8The Rev. John Home's tragedy, Dou las, was
first acted on Dec. 14, 1756, in Edinburgh and was an
immediate success, partly due to its appeal to Scotch
nationalism. Its popularity prompted the Presbytery
of Edinburgh to issue a public "Admonition" against
theatregoing and to take action against Home and against
those ministers who had attended performances. The
"Admonition" was widely known and was reprinted in the
London Chronicle for March 8-10, 1757, as well as in a
number of other London periodicals. A short excerpt
will give the reader the flavor and tone of this ex-
hortation: "On these Accounts, and for many other
obvious and weighty Considerations, the Presbytery,
warmed with just Concern for the Good of Souls, do in
the Fear of God, warn, exhort, and obtest, all within
their Bounds, as they regard the Glory of God, the
Credit of our holy Religion, and their own Welfare, to
walk worthy of the Vocation wherewith they are called,
by shewing a sacred Regard to the Lord's Day, and all
the Ordinances of divine Institution; and by discourag-
ing, in their respective Spheres, the illegal and dan-
gerous Entertainments of the Stage. The Presbytery would
plead with all in Authority, with Teachers of Youth,
Parents and Masters of Families, to restrain by every
habile Method, such as are under their Influence, from
frequenting these Seminaries of Folly and Vice." David
Hume's "Dedication," also reprinted in the March 8-10,
Chronicle, was written on Jan. 3, 1757, less than a
month after the premier of Dou las, and was prefixed to
the first edition of his Feur Dissertations, one of
which was the well known "Of Tragedy." For Murphy's
comments on Douglas see Theatres No. 23 and the second
No. 24.

 

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, February 24-26, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 16.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 24, 1757.
Shakespeare's Tragedy of Macbeth was performed

here this Evening. Hollingshed's Chronicles of England,

 

Scotland, and Ireland, have supplied our great Dramatic

 

Poet with the Materials of many of his Plays; and who-
ever chuses to compare the Play with the Original, will
find that the Poet has traced the Historian very closely
in this Performance.1 It has been said by many Critics,
that the Writing of this Play is the best of our Author's
Production. Why this Opinion should be subscribed to, we
cannot perceive; we think him equally beautiful in Tge

Tempest, not to mention Lear, Othello, and Hamlet. The

 

Stile of Macbeth is indeed peculiar, abounding in Words
infrequent in their Use, but remarkably strong and pictur-
esque: The Language takes a Tincture from the Subject,
which being dark and gloomy, it thence follows, that the
Poets Choice of Words, and their Arrangement, are calcu-
lated to fill the Mind with Imagery of the most solemn

and awful Aspect. In Consequence of this, the Writing

of Macbeth is distinguished from the Poet's general Stile,

220

221

and has been called the best, merely because it is dif-
ferent. As the supernatural Agency of Witches is very
early introduced, it may not be amiss to mention, in the
Words of so fine a Critic as Mr. Johnson, that, "in the
Time of Shakespear the Doctrine of Witchcraft was estab-
lished by Law and the Fashion, and as Prodigies are always
seen in proportion as they are expected, Witches were
every Day discovered, and multiplied so fast in some
Places, that Bishop Hall mentions a Village in Lancashire,
where their Number was greater than that of the Houses.
Upon this general Infatuation (continues the same judi-
cious Writer) Shakespear might be allowed to found a Play,
expecially since he has followed with great Exactness

such Histories as were then thought true; nor can it be
doubted that the Scenes of Inchantment were, both by him-
self and his Audience, thought awful and affecting."2
This Criticism justifies the Poet for introducing a Machin-
ery so whimsical, as it may appear in the present Age.

The Use he has made of it is certainly admirable. Mac-
beth's Mind, in itself not bad, is by these Personages
filled with Ideas of Royalty, and very naturally the
Account of them kindles a Blaze in the more combustible
Temper of his Wife, who omitted nothing that might urge

him to perpetrate the Deed. Boetius says, Animus etiam

 

Macbethieper se ferox prope quotidianis conviciis conjugis

3

stimulabatur. Shakespear has nobly conceived the

222

Character of Lady Macbeth from this Hint, and has given
her Features the highest Colouring, and the strongest
Proportions. The gloomy Meditations of Macbeth very
finely describe the Irresolution of his Mind, and, in
order to abate the Horror, Shakespear has occasionally
softened his Temper. His Wife, however, laid the Daggers
ready, and the Deed must be done. What strong Workings
has the Poet given the Imagination on this Occasion?
Visions become Realities; the Ideas of the Mind are em-
bodied: 'Is this a Dagger that I see before me?’ nay,
they are thrown into Action, 'Thou marshal'st me the Way
that I was going.‘4 So strong is the Painting, that with
all his Efforts he can hardly recollect his Senses, to find
out that it was the bloody Business informed thus to his
Mind.5 One would imagine the Horror in this Scene could
hardly be carried further; and yet immediately we are
told, 'It is now the witching Hour of Night, when Murder

6 The Imagina-

is alarmed by his Centinel the Wolf, etc.‘
tion could not well be filled with more awful Ideas. The
Confusion of conscious Guilt is finely marked in the
succeeding Scene, and our Author has contradicted what

he has told us in the Beginning of his Play, viz. 'Pre-
sent Fears are less than horrible Imaginings.'--Hark!--
Who lies in the Antichamber?--This is a sorry Sight!--

.7

How is it with me when ev'ry Noise appalls me? etc.

After this, Macbeth never knows a Moment's Peace of Mind,

223

but is full of Scorpions, which incessantly goad him;8
and the more he is goaded by them, the more he hardens
himself in Villainy. We cannot but mention this as an
amazing Proof of our Author's Insight into Nature, who
has, in three different Characters, separated the Work-
ings of Remorse, and shewn its Operation to be produc-
tive of remarkable Effects in each, according to their
respective Tempers. For this Remark we are not sure to
whom we are indebted: But it would lead us beyond the
Bounds of these Remarks, to insist on this at present;
and therefore we shall continue our Observations in a

subsequent Paper.9

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was repeated The Fair Penitent. We are obliged

 

to the Gentleman who sent us his Observations on Mrs.
Gregory's Performance, which, though elegantly written,
we are obliged to suppress; because we think most of the
Remarks have been already presented to the Public in a
former Paper.lo We are pleased, however, to have an
Opportunity of saying that her Performance has had Power
enough, in Spite of Fashion, to attract the most numerous
and polite Audience that has been seen at this Theatre

during the whole Season.

 

1Compare "Shakespear has pretty exactly followed
the thread of the History in this Play." "It is not to

224

be doubted but Shakespear followed Holingshed in the Facts
which compose this Play, as well as in many of his other
historical Plays." Lennox, Shakespear, I, 272-3.

 

 

2Between "Fashion" and "and as" read, "and it
became not only unpolite, but criminal to doubt it,".
Between "houses" and "Upon this" read, "The Jesuits and
Sectaries took advantage of this universal Error, and
endeavoured to promote the Interest of their Parties by
pretended Cures of Persons afflicted by evil Spirits,
but they were detected and exposed by the Clergy of the
established Church." Whether Murphy is quoting directly
from Samuel Johnson's Miscellaneous Observations on the
Tragedy of Macbeth (1745), which he cites in Theatre
No. 17, a continuation of the present review, or whether
he has taken the Johnson passages from Mrs. Lennox's
Shakespear Illustrated (I, 285), I am unable to determine.
There is an additionEI complication in that this essay
and No. 17 are an expansion and revision of gig, No. 8
(1754), hence, Murphy may have augmented his original
sources. See below nn. 3, 9, and Theatre No. 17, nn. 5,
7, and 9.

3Hector Boece (Boetius, Boethius), 1465-1536,
principal of King's College, Aberdeen, whose Scotorum
Historiae (1527), as translated into the Scots vernacular
5y JOhn Bellenden in 1533, was Holingshed's primary source
of Scottish history. However, "Animus etiam per se ferox
prope quotidianis convitiis uxoris (quae omnium consiliorum
ei erat conscia) stimulabatur" does not come from Boece
But from George Buchanan's Rerum Scoticarum Historia
(Edinburgh, 1582), Bk. 7, p. 73. When revising 911
No. 8, Murphy must have forgotten which author supplied
the quotation, an easy mistake since in the GIJ essay they
were mentioned in the same sentence: "Macbehh_(says an
ingenious Author) is the same in Shakespear, as in Boetius
and Buchanan. The Poet conforms his Fable and Characters
to the Traditions of his Historians. 'Animus etiam
Mecbethi per se ferox, prope quotidianis conviciis con-
jugis (guae omnium Consiliorum ei erat consciaiistimhia-
batur.’ ‘Macbeth, fierce of himself, was spurr'd on By
the almost daily Reproaches of his Wife, his Bosom-
Counsellor in all his Designs.'" The "ingenious Author"
may be the scholar and editor, John Upton, 1670-1749, who
gives the same Buchanan quotation in his Critical Obser-
vations on Shakespeare (London, 1748), p.—29. Mrs. Lennox
(I, 273 and 279) mentiOns Boetius as one of Shakespeare's
sources but quotes from the English rather than Latin
version.

4

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

II, i, 33 and 42.

225

5"It is the bloody business which informs/Thus
to mine eyes...." I, i, 48-9.
6

...Now o'er the one-half world.

Nature seems dead, and wicked dreams abuse

The curtain'd sleep. Witchcraft celebrates
Pale Hecate's offerings, and wither'd Murder,
Alarum'd by his centinel, the wolf, (II, i, 49-
53.)

7"...Present Fears/are less than horrible imagin-
ings." I, iii, 137-8. The rest of the quotation will be
found between lines 19-59, II, ii.

Buo, full of scorpions is my mind, dear wife!"
III, ii, 36.

9Murphy is indebted to himself for this remark.
At the close of GIJ No. 8 (1754) he says, "Guilty Ambi-
tion moves in a §§here so narrow in itself, that it seems
almost impossible to Diversify it; and yet we see it
differently modified in four Characters of our Author.
If we view Hamlet's Father-in-Law, how different is the
remorse of the Dane, from the Scot's Distraction? The
Confusion of King John how distinguished from both?
While the close, the vigilant, and the jealous Guilt of
Richard is entirely peculiar to himself." See beginning
of Theatre No. 17.

10A lengthy analysis of Mrs. Gregory's performance
in Rowe's tragedy is found in Theatre No. 14.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, Feb. 26-March 1, 1757.
THE THEATRE . NO . 17 .
Continuation of Remarks on MACBETH.

Drury-Lane, Feb. 26, 1757.

We mentioned in our last the different Effects of
Remorse in three different Characters of Shakespear. It
would have been expressed with more Accuracy, had we said
four; as we may trace the Workings of a guilty Con-
science in four of his capital Personages.1 In Richard
we perceive it in short transitory Goadings, which, how-
ever, the Obstinacy of his Villainy finds the Means of
silencing, till at length we find him starting off his
Couch in all the Horrors of the wildest Despair; but
this only prevails while his scattered Senses are lost in
a Confusion between sleeping and waking. In King John we
see a Mind quite desolated by incessant Corrosions, and
he has not the guilty Fortitude to oppose the Assaults of
Conscience; but he intirely abandons himself to Melan-
choly. The Usurper in Hamlet seeks Occasion to excite
the Feelings of Repentance in his Breast, but Vice has

such an Hold of him, that he cannot extricate himself;

226

227

and he declares himself incurable. The Species of Mac-
beth's Remorse differs from them all. His Temper of Mind
seems to be naturally superstitious and thence he is
easily overcast with Clouds of Horror, and his creative
Fancy, the sure Concomitant of Superstition, fills him
with a thousand visionary Fears. It is owing to this
that the 'Table's full;'2 the real Introduction of the
Ghost being only to impress the Scene deeper on the Minds
of the Audience. He tells us,

Stones have been taught to move, and Trees to speak;

Augurs that understand Relations, have

By Magpies, and by Choughs, and Rooks, brought forth

The secret'st Man of Blood.---3
The Consequence of this is, that he resolves to indulge
his gloomy Turn of Thought by a superstitious Visit to
the Witches; and from the very Torture of Mind, which
his Guilt occasions, he hardens himself still more in
Villainy.

--—I will To morrow,

Betimes I will unto the weird Sisters---

More shall they speak---
And a little after,

I am in Blood,
Stept in so far, that, should I wade no more,
Returning were as tedious as go o'er.4

In this Manner we find he does not, like King John,

I”

228

abandon himself to Despair; like Hamlet's Father-in-law,
endeavour at Repentance; nor, like Richard, to subdue
his Tendencies to Remorse, but he is at once resolute
and timorous, determined to pursue the bloody Tract of
Ambition, and at the same Time a Prey to all the Vulture-
Cares of Wickedness. Thus Intrepidity and Superstition,
Remorse and Cruelty, are all blended together, and render
Macbeth a different Villain from any other on the Stage.
If the Reader will take this Hint, and review the Play,
it will immediately strike him how masterly the Poet is
in the Execution of this complicated Character. As we
have mentioned his Visit to the weird Sisters, it may not
be improper to transcribe Mr. Johnson's admirable Remarks
on the magic Incantation. "As this is the chief Scene of
Inchantment in the Play (says that judicious Writer) it
is proper in this Place to observe with how much Judgment
Shakespear has selected all the Circumstances of his in-
fernal Ceremonies, and how exactly be has conformed to
common Opinions and Traditions. Thrice the brinded Cat
hath mew'd, etc."5
Toad, that under the cold Stone,
Days and Nights has forty-one,
Swelter'd Venom sleeping got,

Boil thou first i' th' charmed Pot.

Fillet of a fanny Snake,

229

In the Cauldron boil and bake;

Eye of Neut, and Toe of Frog, etc.6
"The Babe, whose Finger is used, must be strangled in its
Birth; the Grease must be human, but must be dropped
from a Gibbet, the Gibbet of a Murderer; and even the
Sow, whose Blood is used, must have offended Nature, by
devouring her own Farrow. These are Touches of Judgment
and Genius."7 There are many more elegant Remarks of
this Author, which we are constrained to suppress, as
they would exceed the Bounds of our Paper. But we refer
our Readers, if they have a Mind to read a fine Criticism,
to a small Pamphlet, called, Miscellaneous Observations
on the Tragedy of Macbeth, published some time since by
Mr. Johnson, as a Specimen of a new Edition of Shakespear,
which, we have the Pleasure to inform our Readers, he is
now about.8 From his Erudition and Genius we may expect
to see our great Dramatic Poet restored to us in his
Habit as he lived. But to return to Macbeth:--In the
Scene where the Apparitions appear, that Piece of Machin-
ery is also managed in such a Manner as to be perfectly
agreeable to the fantastic Practices of Witches; and at
the same time they are, as Mr. Upton observes, symbolical
Exhibitions of what hereafter is to happen to Macbeth,
while, according to the Delight these extraordinary Per-

sonages are supposed to feel in Mischief, they palter

with him in a double Sense, which at length brings on

230

that wild Confusion which, as Truth dawns upon the Mind,
makes this wicked Hero venture every thing, in all the
Agonies of Guilt, Horror, Rage, and Despair.9 In the
last Act, before the Fallacy of the Witches is discovered,
his Spirits sink into a settled Gloom, and occasionally
he gives into a strain of the finest Moralities that ever
were uttered on any Stage, or in any Language:10 Besides
their acknowledged Truth, they take such a Tincture of
Melancholy from Macbeth's~State of Mind, that from that
very Circumstance they have something more peculiarly
affecting than perhaps was ever felt from Sentiment be-
fore. Having said so much of this Play, we shall take
another Opportunity to attend Mr. Mossop thro' his Per-
formance, when, we imagine, we shall find that he has
conceived this Character very justly; and that he has

great Merit in the Execution.11

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Rover again: Of which we shall only repeat the

 

unanimous Voice of the Town, viz. That nothing is worse

than the Play itself, except the Acting of it.12

Drury-Lane, 28th.
This Evening was presented Oroonoko, written by Mr.
Southern, and produced for the first Time in 1696. As

this Play is of the tragicomic Species, we shall defer

M

231

our Remarks, till we have fulfilled our Promise in regard

to The Spanish Fryar.13

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Fair Penitent again, by Mrs. Gregory.1

 

lSee Theatre No. 16, n. 9.
2III, iv, 46.

3Read "known" for "taught" and "and" for "that."
III, iV, 123—60

4Read "And betimes." III, iv, 132-4 and 136-8.

5Miscellaneous Observations on the Tragedy of
Macbeth (1745). This passage from Johnson was also re-
prinhed in Lennox, Shakespear, I, 285.

6For "forty-one" read "thirty—one." Between
"charm'd Pot" and "Fillet" read "Double, double, toil
and trouble/Fire burn and Cauldron bubble." IV, i, 6-14.

7Read "must not only be" and "have dropped."
Miscellaneous Observations; also in Lennox, Shakespear,
I, 288.

8For Murphy's encomiums on Johnson's Proposals
for an edition of Shakespeare see Theatre No. 33.

9John Upton (see Theatre No. 16, n. 3), in his
Critical Observations, pp. 38-9, says, "Then again those
apparitions being symbolical representations of what shall
happen to him are introduced paltering with him in a
double sense, and leading him on, according to the common
notions of diabolical oracles, to his confusion." Mrs.
Lennox (I, 289) mentions the "learned and ingenious Mr.
Upton" and then gives the above quotation. In V, viii,
. 19-20, Macbeth says, "And be these juggling fiends no

'- more believ'd/That palter with us in a double sense."

10Murphy refers to the famous "To-morrow, and to-
:morrow" speech. V, v, 17-28.

9“? “aux—“F
l' ‘, A-—

232

llTheatre No. 34 contains a long review of Mossop

as Macbeth.
12See Theatre No. 15 for a review of this comedy.

l3Thomas Southerne's tragicomedy, based on Aphra
Behn's novel of the same title, was first acted in 1695.
Nicoll, I, 154. Murphy did not fulfill his promise in

regard to either.

l4See Theatre No. 14.

A '. -‘A- -—.

‘9 T— } ‘r‘r

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 1-3, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 18.

Drury-Lane, March 1, 1757.

This Evening was presented Shakespear's Play,
called, Measure for Measure. The Story of this Piece is
extremely affecting and interesting. It is taken, ac-

cording to our Author's Custom, from an Italian Narrative
in Cynthio's Novels;1 and is in brief as follows: The
Duke of Vienna, in order to have an Opportunity of mend-
ing the Laws, and gaining a Knowledge of his Subjects,
makes a temporary Abdication, under Pretext of retiring
for some time from his Dominions. But instead of with-
drawing, he betakes himself to a Convent, and disguises
hinmelf in the Habit of a Fryar. It happened that Claudio
had.seduced a young Lady, for which he is ordered to be
executed by the Substitute of the Duke. Upon which,
Isabella, Sister to Claudio, immediately interests her-
self in his Cause, and endeavours to deprecate his Fate.
The Deputy, who proves deaf to her tenderest Importunity,
is caughtby her Youth and Beauty, and offers to save

hiJn, if she will gratify his inordinate Desires. Superior

tx: Disgrace, she rejects it with Scorn; and when her

233

”11
.4. ‘4. A... _4

234

Brother intreats her to save his Life, with Loss of her
Honour, she is fired with a noble Indignation. Mean time
the Duke, in the Habit of a Fryar, finds a Succedaneum,
by sending, in Isabella's room, another Lady, to whom the
Vice Duke had been formerly contracted. Notwithstanding

this, Claudio is ordered again for Execution; when the .

r h -.r ..LA

Duke shakes off his Fryar's Dress, and enters the City.

“Inn-“A 4

Isabella seizes the Opportunity to complain of the Admin- *

istration during his Absence; and after some Incidents,

PM"

not unentertaining, the whole Secret is cleared up, and
Angelo, the Deputy, is, in his Turn, ordered for Execu-
tion. The generous Isabella here again interposes and
sollicits his Pardon. The Duke marries Isabella; and
thus Virtue is crowned with a bright Reward. This, if

we are not mistaken, is the Sum of Shakespear's Story.

In the Conduct of the Fable the Poet has made some Mis-
take, and he has unnecessarily overcharged it with super-
numerary Incidents, which do not much conduce to the main
Business, and he has crouded it with episodical Charac-
ters.2 The Reader, who has not seen this Play, may how-
ever easily conceive how touching many of the above de-
scribed Situations must be in so masterly an Hand as
Shakespear's. In Isabella's Character there is a fine
Variety of Passions, and a beautiful Struggle between her
Virtue and her tender Sentiments for her Brother. The

Duke is likewise a very important and interesting

235

Character; and, notwithstanding some farcical Scenes,

the Business of the Piece irresistably commands Attention.
As there is very fine Writing in many Passages of this
Play, and as many of the Characters are admirably acted,

a critical Enquiry into the Beauties of these two differ-
ent Arts, shall be offered to our Readers when Measure

for Measure shall happen to be repeated.3

 

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was presented the Tragedy of King Lear, as altered
4

 

from Shakespear by Mr. Tate. The Part of King Lear was
performed by Mr. Barry:5 But as the present Writer had
not the Pleasure of seeing it, he can only say, that he
is glad to find this excellent Actor has chosen this
Play for his Benefit, when, if he can squeeze in among
the great Crowd, that he supposes will be attending on
the Night of so fine a Performance, he makes no Doubt
but he shall meet with a very exquisite Entertainment;

and then he will offer his Remarks to the Public with his

usual Integrity.

 

ers. Lennox observes that the play is based on
"The fifth Novel of the eighth Decad of the Hectomythi
of Giraldi Cinthio." Shakespear, I, 21. She also TIT
21-24) gives a synopsis, similar to Murphy's, of Shake-
speare's plot.

2Mrs. Lennox (I, 25) says, "The Story of Juriste
and Epitia afforded an affecting Subject for a Play; and
it is toihe wished, since Shakespear thought proper to
found one upon it, that he had left the Fable simple and

 

 

 

236

entire as it was, without loading it with useless Inci-
dents, unnecessary Characters, and absurd and improbable
Intrigue." Murphy, however, holds the play in much higher
regard than does Mrs. Lennox.

3Murphy did not review this work again.

4Nahum Tate's adaptation (1681) of Lear was the
version played until 1756. Among other things, he omitted
the fool and gave the play a happy ending by restoring
Lear to the throne and giving Cordelia a husband. After
1756 Garrick's revision of Tate's adaptation, which re-
stored many of Shakespeare's lines but retained the love
scenes, marriage, happy ending, and continued to omit the
fool, was the version usually acted. D. Nichol Smith,

Shakespeare in the Eighteenth Century (Oxford, 1928), pp.
20-23 0

5For Spranger Barry see Theatre No. 4, n. 9.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 3-5, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 19.

Drury-Lane, March 3, 1757.
Sir John Vanbrugh's Comedy, called the Provok'd
Wife, was acted this Evening.l It is judiciously remarked

by Mr. Pope concerning this Writer, that Van wants Grace
2

 

that never wanted Wit. The Truth is, Sir John's Comedies

 

are generally too licentious, and Vice is rather exhib-
ited in an attractive Garb, than in that odious and for-
bidden Mien, which it should be the Business of Writers
for the Stage to represent, in order to serve the Purposes
of Virtue and good Manners. Had Lady Brute been provoked
to a noble Indignation at the Conduct of her Husband,
after endeavouring to reclaim him by becoming Patience

and correct Behaviour on her Side, had she then given Vent
to the Emotions of Spirit natural to a slighted Woman,
and, with the Intercession of her Relations, demanded a
Separation, what a beautiful Contrast would the Poet have
given us between the Brutality of an hardened Debauchee,
and the amiable Deportment of a virtuous Wife? But when
at present we see the provok'd Wife only excited to an

Emulation of Vice, when we perceive her endeavouring to

237

238

outstrip her Husband in a Dereliction of Morals, and see
them both pursuing their separate Paths of Wickedness, we
revolt from the witty and humourous Writer, and cannot
help condemning him for the Looseness of his Principles.
If his admirable Genius were exerted to set our Passions
on the Side of Truth, to provoke our Merriment by the
ridiculous Appearances of Folly, and to make us recoil
from the Turpitude of corrupt Manners, this Author would
perhaps have deserved the Precedence among all our English
Writers. His Dialogue is always natural and enlivened,
abounding in Wit, Humour, and quick and unexpected Turns;
his Images are generally familiar and entertaining, from
their agreeable Association; his Fable is well conducted,
full of what the Players call Business, tending to pro-
duce entertaining Situations, and frequent Opportunities
for lively Traits of Character. These different Talents
are all assembled in the Play before us. Sir John's
Soliloquy inimitably opens the Play, and the whimsical
Foibles of his own Character: He does not come forth
tamely to tell a dull Story, but he is instantly thrown
into Action, and every thing has Manners. Lady Brute, it
cannot be denied, is well drawn, though not well imagined,
for the Reasons already given. Lady Fanciful has the

Air of a Caricature; but, if strictly examined, she ex—
hibits a just Imitation of a Person who has bid Adieu to

the native Ornaments of her Sex, and is fantastically

239

ridiculous. The Character is admirably acted by Mrs.
Clive, who, besides that spirited Eclat which instantly
seizes her Audience, never fails to give us many little
Touches of Imitation perceptible only to the nice Ob-
server.3 Mr. Garrick is not generally allowed to play
Sir John Brute as well as many other Parts: We cannot
help thinking the Critics who have determined this Matter
somewhat mistaken: A large uncouth Figure, with a deep
toned Voice, is by no Means necessary;4 on the contrary,
perhaps, the Appearance of one, worn out with excessive
Debauchery is the more natural of the two; and it is
probable, if the Ladies of Quality were called upon as
Evidences, we should find that Men of a flimsy Texture,
have, to all Intents and Purposes, as much Brutality as
more robust Constitutions. Mr. Garrick is not morosely
sullen, but peevishly fractious with his Wife. In his
Manner there is an Appearance of Acrimony, rather than
downright Insensibility and Rudeness. And this is cer-
tainly a just Conception of the Character; for it appears
that the Knight is naturally of a lively Turn, with an
unmannerly Vein of Wit. He sees Things in a pleasant
Light, that is to say, a Light that diverts others,
though he does not seem to be entertained himself with
his own ideas. This appears to be the Intention of the
Poet, and this is the Intention of this fine Comedian.

How full of frolic Festivity is he in the Tavern Scene,

240

when free from Women, and elevated by Wine and my Lord
Rake! Even Temperance and Sobriety wish to be of the
Party, and to enjoy the Knight's Company. When examining
the Taylor, how finely does he, like all drunken Men,
lose Sight of his intended Idea, and gape and stare, and
change those meaning Eyes into the most unideal that ever
were seen!--When personating Lady Brute, you would swear
he had often attended the Toilet, and there gleaned up
the many various Airs of the fair Sex: He is perfectly
versed in the Exercise of the Fan, the Lips, the Adjust-
ment of the Tucker,5 and even the minutest Conduct of the
Finger. When he returns Home, Nature, at his first
Appearance, seems to be harrassed out; and through the
rest of the Scene he is extremely Laughable, his Voice,
his Looks, his Attitude are Comic to the highest Degree,
when he makes his solemn Reflection: "He comes to my
House, etc."6 Whoever has seen him sit down in his
Chair, must acknowledge that Sleep comes upon him by the
most natural Gradations: Not the minutest Cricumstance
about a Man in that Situation escapes him: The Struggle
between Sleep and his Unwillingness to give Way to it is
perfectly just: The Lid depressed, yet faintly raised;
the Change of his Voice from distinct Articulation to a
confused Murmuring: The sudden Oppression of his Senses
and the Recovery from it; his then beginning again his

broken Chain of Thought, and the malicious Smile that

241

unexpectedly gleams from him, till he is at Length totally
overpowered, are all such acknowledged Strokes of Art,
that they keep the whole House agitated at once with
Laughter, and Admiration of the Comedian, who can thus
exhibit both the mental and external Workings of Nature

without Exaggeration.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
The Rover again. The Managers seem resolved by
the Repetition of this Play to give us as little Trouble

as possible.7

 

lVanbrugh's popular comedy was first played about
mid-April, 1697. London Stage, Part 1, 477.

2"The First Epistle of the Second Book of Horace
Imitated," 289.

3

 

For Mrs. Clive see Theatre No. l, n. 5.

4Murphy alludes to the great James Quin, 1693-
1766, the last important proponent of the "exaggerated"
style of acting (see above p. 87), who had retired in 1751
but had acted a few benefits for friends since that time.
Quin dominated the stage from the early 1730's until
Garrick supplanted him in the mid-1740's. Highly regarded
in almost any part he undertook, his style was perfectly
suited for declamatory tragedies such as Addison's Cato;
he was an incomparable Falstaff, and for almost a quarter
of a century he "owned" the role of Sir John Brute. Tate
Wilkinson says of Garrick and Quin in this part: "The
Provok'd Wige was acted with approbation that season
[1749] at Covent Garden; for though Garrick was then per-
forming Sir John Brute, yet there were many obstinate
critics of opinion, that the character was better conducted
by Mr. Quin. Indeed there cannot be any one part acted
more differently than that character was by Mr. Garrick

and Mr. Quin. Yet had the author been then living, I

 

242

venture to pronounce he would have allowed both right."
Memoirs, IV, 146.

5"A piece of lace or the like, worn by women
within or around the top of the bodice in the 17-18th c."
O.E.D.

6"Wear a sword, sir!--And what then, sir? He
comes to my house, eats my meat, lies with my wife, dis-
honours my family; gets a bastard to inherit my estate--
And when I ask a civil account of this--Sir, says he,
I wear a sword...." IV, iv.

7See Theatre No. 15.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 5-8, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 20.

Drury-Lane, March 5, 1757.
This Evening was performed King Richard the

EHEEQfl King Richard by Mr. Mossop: It was in this
character the Actor now before us appeared first on the
English Stage, and gave strong Assurances of that theat-
rical Excellence, which he has ever since supported by
good Sense, and fine Powers of Voice.2 As we have already
given a summary Account of his Merit in Richard, in the
Distinction we made between him and Mr. Barry, we need
not at present follow him through the several Scenes of
this Play:3 We shall therefore content ourselves with
saying, that he has justly conceived the Character in
every Situation; that he seems to know the real Drift
of Richard, in every Speech of designing Villainy, or of
artful Hypocrisy; and that the Tone of his Voice is
generally justly varied, and never fails to be an Eccho
to the Sense.4 Should Mr. Garrick's Constitution remain
so tender, as to render it not adviseable for him to go
through the Fatigue of this laborious Part any more, we

think we may safely say to him, Tu nunc eris alter ab

243

244

iilg,s though equal Spirit and Brilliancy can hardly be
expected. We are pleased to find, that he has made

choice of gaga, and Lord Chalkstone for his Benefit;6

as besides his own and Mrs. Cibber's Performances, we
shall see Mr. Garrick in two Characters admirably acted
on the same Night; the Pleasure resulting from which
will, no Doubt, be heightened by that Satisfaction, which,

the Spectator informs us, Sir Roger De Coverley felt "at

 

the Sight of a Multitude of People, who seem pleased
with one another, and partake of the same common Enter-

tainment."7

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

The Rover again!

Drury-Lane, March 7.

Was performed Ben Johnson's Alchymist: "By this
Expression," ways Mr. Whalley, in his elegant Edition of
this Poet's Works, "is meant, one who pretends to the
Knowledge of what is called the Philos0pher's Stone,
which had the Faculty of transmuting baser Metals into
Gold. The Author in the Choice of his Subject was happy,
for the Age was then extremely addicted to the Study of
Chemistry, and favourable to the Professors of it. There
was also at this Time a particular Controversy on foot,
with the famous Doctor Anthony, about his aurum Potabile,

which was warmly agitated by the Members of the Faculty;

245

and we shall find that our Poet alludes to this Dispute,
in some Passages of this Play."8 However, as the Circum-
stances of this Dispute are not interesting now, and as
the Foible ridiculed in this Piece is now almost obliter-

ated, it follows of course, that the Humour appears fre-

quently unintelligible, and loses its Poignancy. This

nil AA

Play sets out finely in the Midst of Things: The Plot

.3 ‘-—f_. .

is admirably conducted; and the fourth Act is, perhaps, ,,

one of the finest, for Contrivance, in the English Drama.

fig ‘4

I: 7.

We may venture, notwithstanding, to assert, that the

Alchymist owes its present Reception on the Stage, to

 

the inimitable Performance of Mr. Garrick. It is, indeed,
no wonder, that all Degrees of People conspire to applaud
the Performer, who has roused all the noblest Emotions

of the Soul, when they see him descending to an Imitation
of Nature in her meanest Littlenesses of Action. And yet
how admirably does he exhibit the minutest Circumstances,
with the exactest Precision, without Buffoonry or Grimace:--
There is no twisting of Features, no Squinting, but all

is as correct as if a real Tobacco Boy were before us.

It is really surprizing how he, who has occasionally
looked.unutterable Things, can present us such a Face of
Inanityw The Actor who can amazingly reach the Sublime

in a Lear, or Hamlet, and then exhibit the most ridiculous

Appearances, must be possessed of such two-fold and

246

opposite Powers, as hardly ever before concentered in
one Man, and are not likely to form such a Tragicomic

Genius again.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was acted Shakespear's Othello, by Mr. Barry.10
It was in this Part this excellent Tragedian started on
the English Stage; and it is not to be wondered, that
such a Performance met with such warm and general Appro-
bation. Mr. Barry's Powers in general are nobly adapted
to this Character. From his first Entrance into Cyprus,
in the second Act, we have nothing left but to admire:
The Vehemence of his tender Passion for Desdemona seizes
every imagination: His Dignity in quelling the Riot is
commanding: His first Tendencies to Jealousy are beauti-
fully expressed, and are finely smothered, till at length
they burst out into an amazing Wildness of Rage. In the
Scene where he collars Iago, nothing can be more masterly
than his whole Performance: The Extravagance of all his
Ideas, and of the Emotions attendant on them, is perfectly
characteristic. When we hear him speak, "I had been
happy if the general Camp," etc.11 we cannot help being
hurried away with his Enthusiasm; and when he collars
Iago, it is actually astonishing how his Powers carry
him through such a 10ng continued Climax of Terror; and

yet he adds further to our Admiration when, a little

1.. 3.1 .

247

after, he burst out with, "If there be Cords, or Knives,
Poison, or Fire," etc.12 The whole is vented with the
impetuous Ferocity natural to one of Othello's Complexion,
still improved with the Harmony of Voice. Every ensuing
Scene is greatly supported, and his acting through the
whole fifth Act, where the most violent Passions rise and
fall in the quickest succession, is such, that were he
never to play any thing else, it is sufficient to stamp
him an admirable Tragedian. Were it our Business at
present to decide which Part this Actor performs best,

we should not hesitate to pronounce, that in Othello he
has more Strokes of Genius than in any other Character
whatever; and perhaps on some future Occasion, we shall

endeavour to point out these to the Reader.13

 

lAs altered by Colley Cibber. See Theatre No. 4,

n. 8.

2For Henry MOSSOp see Theatre No. 5, n. 12. This
outstanding tragedian made his first appearance on the
English stage in Richard III on September 26, 1751, at
Drury Lane. However, for the previous two years he had
been a regular performer at the Smock Alley Theatre in
Dublin. London Stage, Part 4, I, 262.

3For the comparison see Theatre No. 5.

4"The Sound must seem an Eccho to the Sense."
Pope, Essay on Criticism, 365.

5"Now you will be next after him." Virgil,

Eclogues, V, 49.

 

248

6For Aaron Hill's Zara see Theatre No. 4. Murphy
refers to Garrick's farce Lethe (see Theatre No. 5) in
which Lord Chalkstone was the main character.

7The Tory country squire, the most famous and
delightful character in the Spectator papers, is described
as feeling thus in No. 335, March 25, 1712.

8The schoolmaster and editor, Peter Whalley,
1722-1791, published his 7 vol. Works of Ben Jonson in
1756. Since Murphy refers to Whalley in other reViews of
Jonson's plays, all act and scene references are to his
edition. For the quotation see Whalley, III, 5, n. l.

9Garrick played the part of Abel Drugger, a
Tobaccoman, i.e., a seller of tobacco, a tobacconist.
In III, iv, Kastril addresses Drugger as "tobacco-boy."

loFor Barry see Theatre No. 4, n. 9. He was
generally acknowledged the finest Othello of the era.
See above pp. 14, and 19.

11111, iii, 345.

lleI’ iii, 388—9.

l3Murphy did not follow through on this.

‘i

O
r."' ‘r-‘r—w ..— 1..
.. h“... 1.1

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 8-10, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 21.

Drury-Lane, March 6, 1757.
This Evening was presented the Tragedy of Tae
Orphan, written by Otway, and first produced in 1680.1
The Author of this Piece lived among the Wits of Charles
the Second's Time, but was a neglected Genius; which,
however, is not so much a Reproach to the Age, if we
reflect that the Author seemed to be very neglectful of
himself, addicted rather too much to Drinking, and
elated or depressed in his Spirits, according as the
Success of his Compositions had filled his Purse, or his
excessive Debaucheries had exhausted it. It does not
appear that he lived in any Kind of Friendship with Mr.

Dryden: On the contrary, there was rather a Misunder-

standing between them (tho' they were the two greatest

Genius's of that Age) on Account of Otway's close and in—

timate Connection with Shadwell. In The Session of the
Poets, a very humourous and pleasant Poem, we find this
Attachment to Shadwell recorded, and his Poverty made a

Joke of, because, as Shadwell was not well with the Wits

249

"xn—fl -— ..
u!

'I.—

 

250

of those Times, it is more than probable that Otway hurt
himself by a wilful Adherence to him.
Tom Otway came next, Tim Shadwell's dearZany,
And swears for Heroics he wrote best of any:
Don Carlos his Pockets so amply had fill'd,
That his Mange was quite cur'd, and his Lice were
all kill'd.2
Otway died at an Alehouse on Tower-hill, about three or
four and thirty Years of Age.3 What a Loss to all the
Lovers of the pathetic Drama! It were to be wish'd that
such a Genius had met with more Encouragement, sufficient
at least to have kept him from dying untimely thro' Dis-
tress; and then it is more than probable that he, who

improved so greatly from his first Play to the Writing

of Venice Preserv'd, would have proved a more formidable

 

Rival of our great Shakespear. In the Play now before
us there are many admirable Strokes of Genius, and the
Story shews us how greatly those Critics are mistaken,
who insist that the Subject of Tragedy should always be
:ome illustriousAction depending among great and exalted
ersonages. Rowe, in his Prologue to The Fair Penitent,
15 so elegantly refuted this Doctrine, that we cannot
1p transcribing the Lines.4
Long has the Fate of Kings and Kingdoms been

The common Business of the Tragic Scene:

As if Misfortune made the Throne her Seat,

 

251

And none could be unhappy but the Great.
Stories like these with Wonder we may hear;
But far remote and in a higher Sphere

We ne'er can pity what we ne'er can share.
Like distant Battles of the Pole and Swede,
Wiich frugal Citizens o'er Coffee read,
Careless for who shall fail or who succeed.
Therefore an humble Theme our Author chose,

A melancholy Tale of private Woes.5

That Otway has raised the most beautiful Scenes
of Distress from domestic Incidents need not here be
pointed out, the striking Passages of this Play being in
every Body's Mouth: The Loves of Castalio and Monimia
are touched with the most delicate Hand, and the young
Imagination is inflamed with the tenderest Enthusiasm;
iowever, it must be observed, that the Circumstance on
vhich the Catastrophe turns is rather gross and shocking,
and surely that part of it should have been thrown into
Jarrative, as it must be agreed that Polydore's going to
ionimia's Bed-Chamber, raises Ideas too coarse for the
zefinement of the Tragic Muse; and in his subsequent
Behavior he sports too much with those Pleasures, of
rhich the Chastity of the Stage requires that a Poet
:hould "deem with Mysterious Reverence."6 This is what
Virgil was aware of, when he tells us, that the Trojan

:hief and Queen Dido met together in a Cave:7 The Poet

Jfitu

ALIA-er .

l“1‘.nur

252

throws a transparent Veil over his Lovers through which
we discover enough, without having the whole too glaringly
displayed to View; and it must be acknowledged, that the
pathetic Distress and the Catastrophe in the fourth Book
is worked up with as tender Feelings as were ever excited
by a Poet. We shall conclude with observing, that never
was there finer acting between two Performers than Mr.
Garrick and Mrs. Cibber entertained us with on the above
Night: They seemed to warm and animate each other to
such a Degree, they were both carried beyond themselves;
and if they will resolve to exert themselves in the like
nanner, when this Play is acted again, we will venture

:o promise our Readers as sensible a Pleasure as they

ever yet felt at the Theatre.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
The Wonder again18--We hear that the Play of

ammer Gurton is speedily to be revived at this Theatre,

 

nd that it is to run for twenty Nights without inter-

uption.

 

1Next to the tragedies of Shakespeare, the pathet-

I

eeserv'd (1682) were the most highly regarded in the
ariod. See Theatre No. 14, n. 4.

 

2Read "Tom" for "Tim"; "writes" for "wrote."
>hn Wilmot, Earl of Rochester, "A Session of the Poets,"
{-6, 5J1 Poems, ed. Vivian De Sola Pinto (Cambridge,
Lss.,,.l953). Otway's Don Carlos; Prince of Spain (1676)
.3 one of the least "affected1F of the rimed heroic trag-

~'tragedies of Thomas Otway, The Orphan (1680) and Venice

rmT‘ it. I“_-.\-*.“Lr- - .
. v u}.

A-* I

253

3d. 1685. Roswell Ham, Otwaypand Lee, Biography
from a Baroque Age (New Haven, 1931), corroborates the
foregoinginformation given by Murphy about Otway's life.

 

4For a review of Rowe's popular tragedy see
Theatre No. 14.

5Read "humbler" for "humble"; Between "but the

Great" and "Stories like" add:
Dearly, 'tis true, each buys the crown he wears,

And many are the mighty monarch's cares:

By foreign foes and home-bred factions pressed,

Few are the joys he knows, and short his hours
of rest.

I l.‘ I 9 I... -n_'.

6In Paradise Lost, VIII, 598-9, Adam speaking of
his and Eve's copuiation in comparison with that "common
to all kinds" says:
Though higher of the genial Bed by far
And with mysterious reverence I deem

ETVX.

 

m

7The meeting in which Dido and Aeneas first con-
sumate their love is given only a few lines. Aeneid,
IV, 170-3. We are only told that Dido no more "dreams
of a secret love: she calls it marriage and with that

name veils her sin."

8Murphy means The Rover, see his correction in
Dheatre No. 22.

9The early comedy Gammer Gurtons Nedle, c. 1575,
3y an unidentified "Mr. S,“ihad seldom, if ever, been
acted since the last quarter of the sixteenth century.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 10-12, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 22.

Drury-Lane, March 10, 1757.
This Evening was presented The Fair_Quaker of
Qeal, a Comedy written by Charles Shadwell, Son of the
well-known Shadwell,l who succeeded Mr. Dryden as Poet-
Laureate, and was the Author of many Comedies; in which,
tho' there is great Irregularity of Design, and many

farcical Incidents, yet there is always a natural Vein

of Humour in some Characters, and many Strokes of Genius.

Of the Son we cannot say so much: He has farcical Situ-

ations, whimsical Turns of Business, and low Buffoonery,
without the Father's Justness in the Outlines of his
Zharacters, or his Merit in the Colouring. In short,
{he Fair Quaker of Deal is a Play unworthy of Drury-Lane

Btage, and is totally beneath any further Criticism.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

For The Wonder, which was mentioned by Mistake

 

n our last, read The Rover again, as it was acted on-

uesday Night. On Thursday, The Rover again! And this

resent Saturday Night, The Rover again!--Not excepting

254

A- ..g.....'. ,

.—
.| In)

rm” arr

255

The Fair Quaker of Deal, The Rover is the worst Play on
the Stage;2 and we hope we shall not have Occasion to
mention it again for some time, as the Play-Bills inform
us that the Tragedy of Douglas is to be acted on Monday
next;3 the Beauty and Morality of which, we are informed,

will compensate for the Dullness and Ribaldry of The
——— r

Rover .

 

lThomas Shadwell's modern biographers, Michael ‘
W. Alssid (New York, 1967) and Albert Borgman (New York, L
1928), mention a son Charles who wrote The Fair Quaker “F“
of Deal (1710), but for whom, unlike Thomas Shadwell's
other children, there is no record of birth. Except for
Alssid's statement (p. 15) that Charles died in Ireland
in 1726, no further information is given by either bio-.
grapher. The D.N.B., gap Thomas Shadwell, claims a
younger son Charles, fl. 1710-1720, published a two-
volume collection of his plays at Dublin in 1720, and
that his first play, The Fair Quaker of Deal was success-
fully produced at Drury Lane in 1710. The London Stage,
Part 2, I, 214, substantiates the success of this comedy.

2For a review of Aphra Behn's comedy see Theatre
No. 15.

3Murphy reviews John Home's tragedy in Theatres
No. 23 and the second No. 25.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 12-15, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 23.

Drury-Lane, March 12, 1757.

This Evening was presented The Stratagem; for

some Account of which see one of our former Papers. We

shall at present only observe, that whenever Mr. Garrick

and Mr. Woodward come together in this Play, the Art of

these two Comedians is so collusive, that our Mirth is

finely kept up, almost to a Degree of Satiety.2 As the

Occasion is so fair, we cannot help adding, that we are

glad to see so laughable a Comedy advertised again for

the Benefit of Mr. Havard, whose intellectual and moral

Qualities very justly intitle him to the Favour of the

Public.3 An Ode of his Writing, in Commemoration of

Shakespear, is set to Music by Dr. Boyce, and will be

performed on the same Night;4 from which the Audience

may, after the Play, deduce this Reflection, That they

have been assembled together in the Service of a Man of
Genius.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.

Was performed, instead of The Rover again as we

256

‘1“ _‘n.-

‘I\ LI...“—

F‘”

257

umntioned in our last, a Comedy written by Mr. Cibber,

called The Refusal.5 We are pleased to find that we

have prevailed with the Manager to interrupt the Run of

so licentious a Performance as the Rover, and to intro-

duce so good a Comedy as the Refusal, of which we shall
speak more hereafter, being in Haste at present to men-

tion a Matter of some Novelty in our next Article from

this Theatre.

Drury-Lane, March 14.

This Evening was performed The Chances; for an

Account of which we refer our Readers to a former Paper.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
Was presented, for the first Time, a new Tragedy,

intitled, Douglas, to a most numerous and splendid Audi-

ence. As this Author writes intirely on the Side of

Morality, we cannot conceive why an inflammatory Spirit
should have arose against him in his own Country. It
may, however, be some Consolation to him, that from a
British Audience he has met with the warmest Testimonials
of Approbation, and that he has sent many of them home,

if not better Men, at least very sensibly alive to the

Loveliness of Virtue. We cannot, at present, pretend to

give an exact Critique on this Piece, but a short History
of our own Affections, while under his Operation, is in

our Power, and that we beg Leave to offer to the Public.

r. n..__.,_ m..- 4‘_‘

258

From the opening of the Play, we felt our Passions
irresistably seized, and attached to the Subject: Mrs.
Woffington, who begins it, breaks into a beautiful Pathos,
at once poetical and simple:8 As the Story unfolds it-

self by Degrees the Interest grew stronger; and upon

the Introduction of Mr. Barry our Hopes.and Fears were

.A’-

agreeably set at Variance.9 The Scene in which Mr.
Sparks makes his first Appearance seemed to us admirably

written, and very finely performed by the Player:10 The

'
FA" ‘ I ' - Hohh}.

pastoral Simplicity of his Language and the Purity of
his Manners were highly pleasing: Our Expectation is
well worked up, and Terror and Pity reign in every
Breast, till by due Degrees the Discovery is made, when
a Tide of Joy breaks in upon us. There is likewise a
great deal of Tenderness between the Mother and the Son
when she discovers herself to him; and Mr. Barry in the
Passage, which succeeds this, entertained his Auditors
with some masterly Strokes of Acting. The Catastrophe
was likewise very affecting: Hope, Joy, Terror, and
Pity, which are the true Tragic Passions, were here
agitated to a very high Degree of Emotion. Upon the
Whole, the Character appeared to us well drawn; the
Diction has an easy Strength, no where too rich, gener-
alLy exPressive, often impassioned, and some times sub-

lime. Though the Fable bears a Resemblance to that of

Werope, yet the Circumstances are sufficiently varied.ll

 

259

Mr. Barry acquitted himself well in his Part; Mrs.
Woffington convinced us, that she can touch the tender
Passions very feelingly, and Mr. Sparks rose greatly
above himself by descending, if we may be allowed the
Antithesis, from the Fustian of Acting to the simple
Workings of Nature. To conclude, we met with a very
pathetic Entertainment this Night, and will venture to
promise our Readers the same pleasing Melancholy when-

ever they chusato see the Tragedy of Douglas.

 

lSee Theatre No. 1.
2For Woodward see Theatre No. 3, n. 14.

3Murphy's friend William Havard, l710?-l778,
began his stage career in 1730 and remained a popular
actor of secondary characters until his retirement in
1769. Thoughtful and intelligent, his understanding
and conception of a character too often outstripped his
ability to portray him. Though also a playwright, he
was known more for his worth as a decent and sensible
man than as a performer or writer.

4A copy of Havard's ode will be found in Theatre
No. 31. This piece seems to have been highly regarded
since ChristOpher Smart mentions its presentation at a
meeting of the Shakespeare Club (for which see above,
p. 11) in 1756. Sherbo, Smart, p. 107. In the musical
world of eighteenth-century England, William Boyce, 1710-
1779, ranked with Thomas Arne, and both were second only

to Handel.

5Colley Cibber's comedy, based on Moliere's
Les Femmes savantes, was first performed in 1721. For
Murphy's assessment of Cibber and his works see Theatre
No. 2, n. 8, and Theatres No. 1, 13, and the "Atticus'i

letter of Nov. 18-21, 1758.
6

 

See Theatre No. 3.

r “In mfl‘
A . - ‘ fiffi ..u
7‘71
I. h

260

7For Home's tragedy and the strictures placed on
it by the Edinburgh Presbytery see Theatre No. 15, n. 8.

8For Mrs. Woffington see Theatre No. 2, n. 7.

9For Spranger Barry see Theatre No. 4, n. 9.

10About Luke Sparks, d. 1769, there is little in-
formation. He seems to have been a respectable tragedian.
Genest, V, 77, records him at Drury Lane in the 1745-46
season and apparently he retired in 1764. Tate Wilkinson

said of his performance in Dou las, "Sparks was approved
in Old Norval, but was not more than tolerable." Memoirs,

IV, 241.

11David Hume, in the Dedication prefixed to his

Four Dissertations (see Theatre No. 15, n. 8.), gives
Dou lasiflPreference to the Mero e of Massei and to that

of Voltaire, which it resembles in its subject."

'1'. I‘ ili‘QflMA_a—.1~.TT?_‘
. , J; _

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 15-17, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 24.

Drury-Lane, March 15, 1757.

This Evening was presented Amphitryon, and after

 

:he Farce of The Author, for both which, Vide our

 

ler Papers.l

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

Was repeated the new Tragedy of Douglas mentioned

)ur last: we have collected the Opinions of the
Lie concerning this Piece, and we find it generally
eed, that a beautiful Simplicity runs through the
le Composition, and that some of the Scenes are ex-
sitely tender and pathetic. We wait the Publication
the Play before we can add any Thing to our former
arks,2 and shall conclude, that with Pleasure we
it advertized for the Author's Benefit on Thursday
ning, when we make no Doubt that, though the Age in
eral is fond of Finery, he will find feeling Hearts
encourage a Writer who dares to imitate the ancient
plicity, and who, in all his Scenes of Distress,

aks the native Accents of the Passions.

 

261

 

262

 

1For Amphitryon see Theatre No. 11: for The
Lthor No. 12.

2See the second Theatre No. 25.

 

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 17-19, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 25.

Drury-Lane, March 17, 1757.

Was presented The Careless Husband; for which,

’ide one of our former Papers.

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

Was acted the new Tragedy of Douglas, for the

nefit of the Author, to a very brilliant and crowded

dience. As this Tragedy is now published, we shall

:e an Opportunity next Week to give our Thoughts

ative to the Writing of this Piece.

 

1See Theatre No. 1.

2See the second Theatre No. 25.

263

1 . n
_ I

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 19-22, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 24.1 ft--

Drury-Lane, March 19, 1757.

 

Shakespeare's Comedy, called, Much Ado about *5
Nothing, was performed this Evening. Benedick is one of ‘
Mr. Garrick's best Parts in Comedy: All thro' the Part
his Pleasantry is inimitable; and, if he had no other
Merit in it, would sufficiently recompence his Auditors
in the Speech where he first deliberates whether he shall
marry Beatrice. His Manner of coming forth from the
Arbour, and the Tone of his Voice, when he says, 'This
is no Trick,‘2 etc. is diverting in the highest Degree.
His Arguments to reason himself out of his former youth-
ful Resolutions against Marriage, are exquisitely humour-
ous; and they are quite agreeable to the Practice of
Mankind in general, who seldom want delusive Fallacies to
urge in Behalf of their Passions, when once they are
become fond of any Object whatever. Many of the Scenes
in this Comedy are both interesting and entertaining,
and particularly when Mr. Garrick resolves to give the
Challenge,3 his Performance is perhaps equal to any

Thing we have seen from this masterly Actor.

264

 

265

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

Was repeated the new Tragedy of Douglas, by
Command of his Royal Highness the Prince of Wales. The
Success this Play has met with does great Honour to the
Author, and likewise to the Patrons he has met with; and

it is with Pleasure we have heard that his Royal Highness

8‘..- ..,_.

the Duke ordered an handsome Present for the Writer, who

1"; i ..‘IO-p - .1

has found Means to touch the Heart with unadorned Sim-

plicity and Tenderness.4

_ '-
‘-.

Drury-Lane, March 21.

The Tragedy of Jane Shore, written by Nicholas
Rowe, Esq: was presented this Evening, for the Benefit
of Mrs. Cibber.5 This Tragedy, the Author tells us, was
intended for an Imitation of Shakespear's Stile and
Manner,6 but in fact it is no more equal to him, than
the Performance of some certain Actors is to our modern
Roscius,7 whom they pretend to copy. This Play, however,
is very far from being void of Merit. Jane Shore, Hast-
ings, and Alicia, are interesting Characters. In the
former, Miss Pritchard's Performance, which is all well
designed, is prejudiced by the blooming Health which
attends her.8 Mr. Garrick makes the most of Hastings;
but the Author has not afforded him any one Scene
sufficiently capital for his powerful Genius. To Mrs.
Cibber he has been more liberal, as he has given her Room

in the mad Scene for many Strokes, which cannot be

266

sufficiently admired. There is such a Wildness of Exer-
tion in her Powers, and such lively Description in her

Countenance as almost make the Audience afraid the Roof
is coming down, when she falls on the Ground, and still
seems to shrink lower to avoid the Beam, which her dis-
tracted Imagination makes her think is falling upon her.
We cannot help expressing our Satisfaction that such a
Genius was attended by a polite and crowded Audience, to
testify their Gratitude on the above Night for the Plea—

sure they receive from her, whenever she appears on the

Stage in other Parts of the Season.

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

Was presented King Lear, for the Benefit of Mr.

We shall content ourselves at present with con-

Barry:
gratulating this Performer, that such a splendid Appear-

ance did Honour to his Merit; and in our next we shall
ive a Critique on this Performance, and on the Tragedy

' Douglas.

 

1
above, P. 1000
211, iii, 228.

31v, i.

For an explanation of the repetition of numbers

4"The nature and extent of the Duke's present has
however, it is known that later this year

obscured;
became tutor of the Prince of Wales, afterward King

’-—ap?r‘

 

267

George III. Alice Edna Gipson, "John Home, A Study of
His Life and Works" (Ph.D. diss., Yale University, 1916),
p. 22.

5Rowe's pathetic tragedy (1714) ranked in popu-
larity during the century with his own Fair Penitent,
Otway' s The Orphan and Venice Preserv'd, and Congreve' s
Mourning Bride. For Mrs. Cibber see Theatre No. 4, n. 4.

6The title page of the first edition and most
subsequent editions said, "Written in Imitation of Shake-
spear's Style."

 

 

 

 

7Garrick of course. See Theatre No. 3, n. 10.

8For Miss Pritchard see Theatre No. 7, n. 11.

9He analyzes Douglas in the next but never executes
the proposed review of Barry' 3 Lear.

4. -1; -a-t

fa: (imam.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 22-24, 1757.

THE THEATRE. No. 25.1 .

Drury-Lane, March 22, 1757.

This Evening was performed a Comedy, called,

Rule a Wife and have a Wife, written by Beaumont and
Fletcher;2 which would afford us ample Scope for Obser-

vation, both with respect to the Piece itself, and the

Performance of it; but as the Public will expect that
we should comply with our Promise of giving a particular
Account of Douglas, we must defer what will naturally
offer upon this Head, until the next Representation shall

afford us another Opportunity.

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

The same Evening Mr. Smith performed the Part of

Hamlet, for the first time, in the celebrated Tragedy of

that.Name, for his own Benefit.

Remarks on the Tragedy of DOUGLAS.4

The dedicatory Letter, prefixed by Mr. Hume to
Iris Four Dissertations, lately publish'd, raised an Ex-
pectation, with respect to this Composition, which per-

haps has not been intirely gratified.5 The very elegant

268

269

Author of that Address, whose Knowledge and Taste are
indisputable in Subjects of Literature, has formed his
Sentiments of dramatic Poetry, from those exquisite
Models we have derived from Sophocles and Euripides. In
the masterly Productions of those Artists, Simplicity of
Design appears the essential Beauty. One Action, of
sufficient Importance to command the Attention and attach
the Affections of an Audience, is at all Times kept in
View, and no subordinate Events are introduced, but what
immediately tend to the Completion of the principal De-
sign. From this simple Sketch of the Greek Drama, it
will be obvious to the Reader, that a Play conducted
upon this Plan, which the most able Critics, from Aris-
totle down to Brumoy,6 have established as the invariable
Standard of the tragic Drama, must want the principal
Requisite to take hold of the Minds of an English Assembly
of Spectators, who have been so long accustomed to be
entertained with an amazing Series of Incidents, thrown
together often without any Consistency, and seldom with
any Regularity of Design. These few Observations will
perhaps explain why Douglas has not been received with
the same Warmth with which the ingenious Dedicator de-
servedly speaks of it. In criticising this Tragedy, it
‘will be unnecessary to enter into an Investigation of
the Management of the Plot, which would lead us farther

than the Limits of this Paper will permit. Let it

4.“-.. ._‘

1g — “'uu__ ‘
. 'v, Q

270

suffice to say, that there is an Unity of Design, rendered

extremely interesting by a Diversity of Situations,

which all lead to one Point, and engage the Heart, with-

out distracting the Attention of the Audience. Lady

Randolph, whose Character is finely drawn, opens the

Play in a Strain of poetic Melancholy, which marks, in,

a masterly Manner, the gloomy State of her Mind--

Ye Woods and Wilds, whose melancholy Gloom
Accords with my Soul's Sadness, and draws forth

The Voice of Sorrow from my bursting Heart,

Farewell a while: I will not leave you long;

For in your Shades I deem some Spirit dwells,

Who from the chiding Stream, or groaning Oak,

Still hears, and answers to Matilda's Moan.

If departed Ghosts

0 Douglas! Douglas!

Are e'er permitted to review this World,
Within the Circle of that Wood thou art,

And with the Passion of Immortals hear'st

My Lamentation: hear'st thy wretched Wife

Weep for her Husband slain, her Infant lost
My Brother's timeless Death I seem to mourn;

Who perish'd with thee on this fatal Day.

To thee I lift my Voice; to thee address

The Plaint which mortal Ear has never heard.

I) disregard me not; though I am call'd
7

Another's now, my Heart is wholly thine.

271

It is not beside the Subject to observe here, that Mrs.
Woffington uttered this Speech with most affecting Accents,
and in her whole Person displayed an Elegance of Dejec-
tion, which has seldom been seen on the Stage. The
amiable Author of Elfrida remarks, that Shakespear is

perhaps the only English dramatic Writer, who could

unite Sentiment with Passion. We are inclined to think,

this Gentleman will be of Opinion, that Mr. Hume has
happily succeeded in this very difficult Task, in the
following Passages--

Scarce were they gone, when my stern Sire was told

That the false Stranger was Lord Douglas' Son.

Frantic with Rage, the Baron drew his Sword

And questioned me. Alone, forsaken, faint,

Kneeling beneath his Sword, fault'ring I took

An Oath equivocal, that I ne'er would

Wed one of Douglas' Name. Sincerity

Thou first of Virtues, let no mortal leave

Thy onward Path! altho' the Earth should gape,

.And from the Gulf of Hell Destruction cry

To take Dissimulation's winding Way.lo

Alas! I am sore beset! let never Man,

For Sake of Lucre, sin against his Soul!

Eternal Justice is in this most just!

I, Guiltless now, must former Guilt reveal.11

 

272

The Discovery of Douglas, by means of a Shepherd,

who is taken up as an Assassin, affords perhaps one of

the finest Scenes on the Stage. The whole is the Lan-

guage of Nature, and the Infant's History is developed
in the most simple, artless Manner, each Circumstance

strengthening the preceding, and preparing the Audience

for the important Secret, when mentioning the Incident i
of the Youth's attacking a desperate Band of Robbers,

which Adventure young Norval had before related of him-

I ‘1‘: .f-c:

self, puts it beyond all Doubt, that the young Hero can

be no other, than Lady Randolph's Son. We do not recol-

1ect a Denouement managed with more Art, that is, with
less Appearance of it, than the Circumstance we have just

pointed out; and think this Part of the Play, may, with-

out any disrespect to Sophocles, be compared to the Man—

agement of the Grecian Bard, in his admired Tragedy of

Quotations would be endless, should we under-

Oedipus.
take to point out all the striking Passages in this Play,
in'which.it.is observable, that the Author every where
speaks the Language of Passion, and is in this Respect
very properly compared to Otway, though perhaps the

latter sometimes goes out of His Way for poetical Orna-

ments. How beautiful are the following Lines spoken by

Lady Randolph, upon hearing of the Danish Descent.

How many Mothers shall bewail their Sons!

How many Widows weep their Husbands slain!

273

Ye Dames of Denmark! ev'n for you I feel,
Who, sadly sitting on the Sea-beat Shore,
Long look for Lords than never shall return.12
Likewise in the following--
In the wild Desart on a Rock he sits,
Or on some nameless Stream's untrodden Banks,
And ruminates all Day his dreadful Fate.
At Times, alas! not in his perfect Mind!
Holds Dialogues with his lov'd Brother's Ghost;
And oft each Night forsakes his sullen Couch,
To make sad Orisons for him he slew.l3
Nor can I forbear to add--
0! tell me who, and where my Mother is!
Opprest by a base World, perhaps she bends
Beneath the Weight of other Ills than Grief;

And desolate, implores of Heav'n, the Aid

Her Son should give.14

The following Sentiment, in the Mouth of Douglas,

must be sensibly felt by every ingenuous Mind.--

To the Liege-Lord of my dear native Land
I owe a Subject's Homage: but ev'n him
And his high Arbitration I'd reject.
Within my Bosom reigns another Lord;

15

Honour, sole Judge, and umpire of itself.

The fifth Act opens with a Solemnity equal

the first.

to

274

Douglas: This is the Place the Centre of the Grove.

Here stands the Oak, the Monarch of the Wood.

How sweet and solemn is this midnight Scene!

The silver Moon, unclouded, holds her Way

Thro' Skies where I could count each little Star.

The fanning West-wind scarcely stirs the Leaves;

The River, rushing o'er its pebbled Bed,

Imposes Silence with a stilly Sound.

In such a Place as this at such an Hour,

If Ancestry can be in aught believ'd.

Descending Spirits have convers'd with Man,

And told the Secrets of the World unknown.16

And, not to trespass on the Patience of the

Reader, we shall only observe farther, that the Catastro-
phe is brought about in a natural, tho' unexpected Manner,
and nothing can be more expressive of the inherent Dig-
nity of the Hero of the Tragedy, than the Regret, which
he utters, of not having had an Opportunity of running
the Career of Fame.

Unknown I die; no Tongue shall speak of me.--

Some noble Spirits, judging by themselves,

.Many yet conjectire what I might have prov'd,

.And think Life only wanting to my Fame:

But who shall comfort thee?17

And now we shall beg Leave to close these Remarks,

with promising the ingenious Author the universal

this new . fl) ‘
I

275

Admiration of all true Judges of this Species of Writing,

and will venture to assure him, that whatever Anathemas

some of his Brethren may pronounce gainst him, the Excom-
munication will be taken off in the Court of Parnassus.18

 

1For an explanation of the repetition of numbers
see above, p. 100.

2Modern scholarship generally ascribes this
comedy (1624?) to John Fletcher alone. Of the Beaumont
and Fletcher comedies that had been pOpular through the
Restoration, only this one, The Chances, and Wit without

Money, had much success in the eighteenth century.
William W. Appleton, Beaumont and Fletcher (London, 1946),

pp. 70 and 109.

3William Smith, 1730?-1819, made his debut in
1753 under the tutelage of Barry, playing Theodosius in
Nathaniel Lee's tragedy by this name to his mentor's
Varanes (For a review of these two in Lee's play see
Theatre No. 34). His manners, voice, and appearance,
e pe earn him the appellation of "Gentleman" and made
him particularly suited for the heroes of tragedy and the
leads in genteel comedy, in which roles he had a distin-

guished career that lasted until 1788.
and Theatre No. 23.

5For David Hume's dedication see Theatre No. 15,
n. 8. Among other things, Hume rated the play superior

to the Meropes of Voltaire and Massei, commended the play
for its Fire and Spirit," "Tenderness and Simplicity,"

.and said of its author, John Home,: "You possess the
true theatric Genius of Shakespear and Otway, refined
from the unhappy Barbarism of the one, and Licentiousness

of the other."

6The Theatre des Grecs (1730), a three-volume
history, translation, and criticism of classical Greek
drama by the Jesuit scholar and litterateur, Pierre
Brumoy, 1688-1742, was a popular critical work of the
perdrxi. Mrs. Lennox, with the help of Johnson and others,
published an English translation of Brumoy's study in

1759.

4See Theatre No. 15, n. 8,

'
Fl: ‘IAI'I‘M M‘
‘ ..1' l- ‘-.-
I u 1 .AL. ‘1 .
\

276

71, i, 1-19. In line 14, "timeless" in the sense
of untimely.

8For Peg Woffington see Theatre No. 2, n. 7.

9The author of Elfrida (1752) was the clergyman
and minor poet, William Mason, 1724-1797. He made the
remark in the third of five prefatory letters to this
tragedy in which he attempted to justify the employment
of a SOphoclean chorus, an adherence to the unities, and
the use of an Anglo-Saxon setting and subject matter.

101, 1, 189-200.

llIII, 1, 61-40

12111, i, 301-5.

131V, 1, 87-940

l4Iv, i, 169-173.

151v, 1, 397-401.

16V, i, 1-12. Line 10: "Aught believed" in the
sense of give credence to.

17v, i, 212-6.

18Murphy refers to the "Admonition" issued by the
Edinburgh Presbytery. See Theatre No. 15, n. 8. The
dream vision or mock court of Parnassus in which the
modern and ancient writers and philosophers were put into
a hierarchy according to what the viewer deemed their
respective merits, was a favorite subject of the periodi-
cal essayists. See for example Murphy's own §£g_Nos. 4,

51 and 86 (1756).

m? ‘ 51' 7‘45—
l.m_nu«nfn.4_a 1

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 24-26, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 26.

Drury-Lane, March 24, 1757.
Shakespear's Play, intitled, The Winter's Tale,

was performed here this Evening, for the Benefit of Mr.

Woodward. The Plot of this Play is taken from the old

Story of Dorastus and Fawnia. The Poet has introduced

a greater Variation of Circumstances in this Piece than
is common with him, when he builds his Fable upon the
Story-Books or Novels that were then in vogue. Notwith-
standing many Improbabilities in the Conduct, there is
something that pleases and attaches the Mind very strongly
in the several Incidents. The Jealousy of Leontes is
somewhat sudden; but as Shakespear was thoroughly ac-
quainted with this Passion (as indeed he was with all

our Affections) he here gives us several masterly Strokes
of Nature, though it must be observed that the Colouring
is sometimes indelicate and coarse.2 The Laws of Hospi-
tality are destroyed by this blind Rage; Polixenes King
of Bohemia (or, according to Sir Thomas Hanmer, Bythinia,

as the former is an inland Kingdom, and the latter a

maritime Country, which is necessary from many Incidents

277

1A- “T 7‘

i.._,

n

I.-fiv 13-1

278

in the Play)3 is obliged to fly to avoid being murdered,
and the infant Daughter of Leontes is sent after him for
Protection, the jealous Monarch being possessed with a

Notion that the Child was not his own.

In Consequence of this Fancy, the Queen Hermione

is imprisoned, and afterwards, for her Preservation, re-

ported to be dead. The Loves of Florizel and Perdita,

the Daughter of Sicilia, commence sixteen Years after.
In order to get over this long Space, Shakespear makes
Time a Personage of his Drama, and puts the following
Apology into his Mouth:

I that please some, try all, both Joy and Terror

Of Good and Bad, that mask and unfold Error;

Now take upon me in the Name of Time
To use my Wings--Impute it not a Crime
To me, or my swift Passage, that I slide

O'er sixteen Years, and leave the Growth untried

Of that wide Gap--
--Your Patience this allowing

I turn my Glass, and give my Scene such growing

As you had slept between--
--Imagine me,

Gentle Spectators, that I now may be

In fair Bythinia, and remember well

I mention here a Son 0' th' King's, whom Florizel

I now name to you; and with Speed so pace

279

To speak of Perdita, now grown in Grace

Equal with wond'ring--
In the Days of our great Poet, the Unities of

the Drama were very little understood: Romances and

Books of Chivalry were the Taste of the Times. Hence

‘31—... H
o t

Regularity of Design was not looked for by an Audience,

and it is no Wonder, therefore, if Shakespear embraced a

hush—.1-..
.

fashionable Error, which gave rise to a Variety of Inci-
The

dents, and well agreed with his unbounded Genius.

Pastoral Scenes throughout this Play, are wrought with a

masterly Hand. How naturally is the old Shepherd intro-

duced in the Storm. "They have frighted away (says he)

two of my Sheep, which I fear the Wolf will sooner find
than the Master; if any where I find them, 'tis by the

Sea-Side brouzing of Ivy."5--The Description of the Ship-

wreck in the Mouth of his Son the Clown, is admirably
picturesque. "I would you did but see how it chafes,
how it. rages, how it takes up the Shore,--but that's not

to the Point--Oh! the most piteous Cry of the poor Souls--
Sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em--now the Ship
aoring the Moonwith her Mainmast, and anon swallowed

rith Yeast and Froth, etc."6—-The Ship boring the Moon»

'ith her Mast is finely natural from an untutor'd Rustic:

he Fate of Antigonus, who was charged with the Child of
is well told by the same Person. "To see how

eontes,
how he cried to me

1e Bear. tore out his Shoulder-Bone;

280

for Help, and said his Name was Antigonus, a Nobleman."7

The Loves of Florizel and Perdita, form a Subordinate

Plot, which is productive of many beautiful and enter-
taining Scenes: By Means of their Affection we are

plainly led on to the Discovery of Perdita's being

Leontes' Daughter. It were to be wished this had been "

effected without changing the Scene again into Sicilia:

But Space as well as Time are annihilated when Shakespear

.‘ "'l' “figs-‘1‘

pleases, and the Delusion is so pleasing that we are at

all Times ready to give into it.

'5'"?

The Relation given to

Autolicus of the Manner how the Shepherd found the Bundle,

artfully prepares us for the Denouement: Circumstance

rises upon Circumstance; "The Mantle of Queen Hermione--

Her Jewel about the Neck of it--the Letters of Antigonous

found with it, etc."8 The subsequent Account of the

Meeting of Polixenis and Leontes is exquisitely tender,

and we naturally acquiesce in their Conviction: "Leontes

being ready to leap out of himself for Joy of his found

Daughter, as if that Joy were now become a Loss, cries--

Oh thy Mother! thy Mother!--then asks Bohemia Forgive-

ness, then embraces his Son-in Law; then again worries

he his Daughter with clasping* her."9 We could wish that

the Discovery of Hermione was unfolded by Means as natural

and probable: Her having lived sequestered for many Years

might be allowed, if she did not stand for a Statue at

last. This Circumstance is certainly childish, as is

281

likewise the pretended Revival of her by Musick. Had
Hermione been discovered to us in a rational Manner, the
Close would have been pathetic, whereas at present, not-
withstanding many Strokes of fine Writing, Reason operates
too strongly against the Incident, and our Passions sub-
side into Calmness and Inactivity. We shall conclude
this long Paragraph with two Remarks: lst, That Mr.
Garrick has judiciously altered this Play for Representa-
tion, as it is possible that extended into five Acts the
Improbabilities and Changes of Place would have tired,
whereas at present the whole is more compact, Absurdities
are retrenched, and our Attention is alive throughout.lo
2dly, As the Circumstances of the Infant's being taken
up with jewels about it; of the Person who had Care of
the Child being lost, and the subsequent Discovery by
.Means of those Jewels, have a palpable Resemblance to the
Incident in the Tragedy of Douglas, it may be observed
that the Author of that Piece has been happy in a beauti-
ful Coincidence of Thought, or has successfully kept his
Eye on Shakespear's Passage, which he has converted to

his own Use, and embellished with many elegant Touches of

his own.11

Covent-Garden,.Same Night.
Was presented The Fair Penitent, for the Benefit

of Mrs. Woffington, who appeared, for the first Time, in

3..-...1 ,

282

the Character of Lothario. The Interest, which the Heart
naturally takes in the Business of this Play, was weakened
by our being conscious that a Woman was playing the Part;
but we must say that Mrs. Woffington takes off her Hat,
draws her Sword, fights and dies with such an elegant

Gallantry, that she is the prettiest Fellow on the Stage.12

 

*Clippiag her is the common reading; we have
ventured to change it for a Word that gives a clearer
Idea, and may possibly have been altered by an hasty

Compositor.13

 

lSee Lennox, Shakespear, II, 71.

2Though Murphy never questions the validity of
Mrs. Lennox's information concerning Shakespeare's
sources, he quite often, as he does here, disagrees with
her evaluation of how effectively Shakespeare used these
sources. In the foregoing comments, Murphy appears to
be-responding to Mrs. Lennox's assertions that Shakespeare
rendered the original Dorastus and Fawnia story even more-
"absurd and ridiculous" (II, 75), and that in regard to
the suddeness of Leontes' jealousy, "The Legerdemain,
who shews you a Tree that buds Blossoms and bears ripe
Fruit in the Space of five Minutes, does not put so great
a Cheat on the Senses, as Shakespear does on the Under—

standing." (II, 77).

3Sir Thomas Hanmer, 1677-1746, after an important
and successful political career, edited the first Oxford
edition of Shakespeare (1743-44). However, I suspect that
.Murphy's information came from Shakespear Illustrated (II,
87) rather than Hanmer's edition: TSir Thomas Hanmer, in
Ihis Edition of Shakespear, has this Note at the Beginning
of the Winter's Tale. This Country, here called Bithynia,
hath in all former Editions been printed Bohemia, an in-
land Kingdom,..."

4For "mask and unfold" read "makes and unfolds";
for "Bythinia" read "Bohemia." IV, i, 1-7, 15-17, 19-25,

 

283

5Read "scar'd" for "frighted," "have" for "find,"
and "best sheep." III, iii, 65-8.
5111, iii, 89-94.

7111, iii, 96—8.

co

V, ii, 36.80

9For "Leontes" read "Our King." V, ii, 53-9.

10This alteration is not Garrick's Florizel and
Perdita, an afterpiece derived from The Winter's Tale
sometime early in the decade but neither puhlished nor
played until the 1758-59 season. The London Stage, Part
4, II, 521, lists a Jan. 21, 1756 performance of The
Winter's Tale in "3 acts" as "Alter'd by Garrick.“__Since
the bibgraphers do not list this work among Garrick's
adaptations, and since the quotations given by Murphy are
to be found in the original, I assume that Garrick's
revisions in this case were simply a matter of cutting
rather than rewriting.

 

11In Home's tragedy, III, i, 126-57, Norval, the
Shepherd's son, is revealed to be the heir, Douglas, by
the jewels found with him as an infant.

12For Mrs. Woffington see Theatre No. 2, n. 7.
She usually excelled in roles of this type; in Theatre
No. 28 Murphy praises highly her Sir Harry Wildair.

l3Modern editions choose "clipping her."

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 26-29, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 27.

Drury-Lane, March 26, 1757.

The Tragedy of EEEE! was presented this Evening
for the Benefit of Mr. Mossop; and after the Play Mr.
Garrick performed the Character of Lord Chalkstone in
Eephe. As both these Pieces have been already sufficiently
taken Notice of by us in a former Paper, we shall not say
any Thing further of them at present.1 We shall content
ourselves with expressing our Satisfaction at the uncom-
monly numerous and splendid Appearance of Ladies and
Gentlemen, who attended this excellent Actor in the above
Night. As he had so many Witnesses of his Merit, we need
not here follow him through the several Scenes, in which
his Abilities were highly conspicuous; it will suffice
in general to say, and every one, who was present, will
confirm our Assertion, that Mr. Mossop has formed to
hinmelf just Ideas of the Character of Osman, and that
Zhe not only expresses the Sentiments with very fine
IPowers of Voice, but that he very elegantly varies the

‘Tones, observing an artful and judicious Gradation in

the Rise and Fall of every Passion.2 This, in this

284

285

:former, is a Sacrifice to Judgment, because we are
sured, that if he chose indiscriminately to exert those
tong Powers, which are peculiar to him, the Multitude
uld be more pleased with him; whereas in his present
inner, in many Situations of the Play, he lays no Claim
0 our Applause from an Exertion of Voice, but, fore-
going that great Advantage, he attaches himself wholly
to Nature, and he entirely succeeds by suppressed Tones,
and by sensible and delicate Strokes of Art. This we
are proud to have an Opportunity of- mentioning, because
we have lately had the Misfortune of perusing an invidi-
ous Libel, written with worse than Cibberian Forehead
and Cibberian Brain, in which this Gentleman is injuri-
ously calumniated.3 It is very visible, that the Writer

of this defamatory Book is not an Examiner Emunctae naris,

 

but a Critic nullius naris;4 for surely, if he had not
lost those Organs of Sensation, he would never be able
to endure the Smell of all the Filth he has raked to-
gether. This notable Writer has abused Mr. Garrick, and
bestowed very high Encomiums upon a squinting, hemming,
coughing, spitting Actor, who, it may very fairly be
presumed, cannot at this Day please any one Man in England
but himself. While Mr. Mossop has the Honour of such
Company at his Benefit, and the additional Satisfaction
of sending them home with true and rational Delight, he

need not suffer a Moment's Disquietude from the malevolent

V
. _.' (Ti-“Mk1; .‘
‘i . 7*.— _ .p a

286

Criticisms of a Man, who cannot make a single Remark upon
the Profession of an Actor, more than the Commonplace
Chat, which he has gleaned up in Coffeehouse Circles,
where he still
-—Takes the foremost Place,
And thrusts his Person full into your Face;5
who does not understand the common Rudiments of Grammar,
not to mention the impoverished Sterility of Sentiment,
and the more than Gothic Barbarism of his Phraseology.
When so inimitable a Tragedian as our modern Roscius,
who chalked out the Paths of Nature for all his Contem-
poraries, is vilified by this Writer, it is an Honour
to Mr. Mossop to partake of the Scurrility; and, like
one of Mr. Bayes's Kings of Brentford, he may walk off
the Stage, proud to smell at the same Nosegay with Mr.
Garrick.6
Covent-Garden, Same Night.

Was performed the Tragedy of Macbeth, for the
Benefit of Mrs. Gregory, whom the present Writer is sorry
he could not attend; but from the Accounts he has heard
of her, he longs much to see her Performance of Lady
.Macbeth, that he may have an Opportunity of doing Justice
to the many Strokes of Genius, which, he is well informed,

she displayed in this Character.7

 

287

Drury-Lane, 28th.

Was performed The Wonder, and the Farce of The

 

Author, for the Benefit of that admirable Comedian Mrs.
Clive. Both the said Pieces have been mentioned by us in
a former Paper.8
Covent-Garden, Same Night.
The Tragedy of Alexander, for the Benefit of
Miss Nossiter. For an Account of this Play yige a former

Paper.9

 

1For Zara see Theatre No. 4; for Lethe No. 5.

2For MOSSOp see Theatre No. 5, n. 12, and the
comments on his acting in Theatres No. 14 and 34.

3The reference is to the disreputable Theophilus
Cibber, 1703-1758, son of Colley Cibber, and himself an
actor and sometime-manager. Despite an unattractive
appearance and a shrill voice, he was a very talented
performer with an intimate knowledge of stage business.
His abilities, however, were vitiated by a personal
obnoxiousness and by extravagance which led him to engage
constantly in churlish actions in order to maintain him-
self. The "libel" that Murphy alludes to is obscure.
Since the Dissertations of 1756 in which he attacked
Garrick, Cibber apparently published a further attack
which included Mossop (see Dunbar, Murphy, p. 306).
Genest, IV, 460-1, mentions a "pamp et called the
Theatrical Examiner" published in 1757 which effusively
praises Theophiius Cibber's acting. This would correspond
with Murphy's accusation below that Cibber "bestowed very
high encomiums upon a hemming, coughing, spitting actor,"
which obviously refers to Cibber himself. "...Still,
still remain/Cibberian forehead, and Cibberian brain."
Pope, Dunciad (B), I, 217-18.

4Not an Examiner with a keen nose, i.e., a correct
taste or nice discernment, but a critic with no taste at
all, literally--no nose. See Horace, Satires, I, iv, 8,
"Facetus, emunctae naris, durus componere versus." The

———

 

 

288

punning on the word nose and Murphy's reference to Cibber's
having lost this organ may be more than metaphorical.

None of the biographers that I have been able to examine
mentions Cibber's lack of a nose or mentions venereal
disease, but in Murphy's The Spouter, or Triple Revenge,

in which Cibber is satirized in the figure of squint-

ey'd Ancient Pistol, Pistol has his artificial nose and
teeth on a table before him.

5Mark first that Youth who takes the foremost

place,
And thrusts his person full into your face.
With all thy Father's virtues blest, be born!
And a new Cibber shall the stage adorn. Pope,
Dunciad (B), III, 139-42.

6In Villiers' burlesque of heroic tragedy, The
Rehearsal (V, i), most of the characters in Bayes' Sihy,
including the Kings of Brentford, are killed in a gigan-
tic battle. When Bayes is asked, "how shall all these
dead men go off?" He answers, "Go off! why as they
came on--upon their legs."

7

 

For Mrs. Gregory see Theatre No. 9, n. 8.
8
No. 12.

9The reference is to Nathaniel Lee's Rival
Queens in which Alexander is the main figure. See

Theatre No. 11.

 

For The Wonder see Theatre No. 6; for The Author

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 29-31, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 28.

Drury-Lane, March 29, 1757.

The Tragedy of The Mourning Bride, already men-
tioned in a former Paper, was presented here this Even-
ing.1 The three capital Characters of this Play are well
performed. The haughty, resentful, and tender Spirit of
Eaga, and the filial Piety, the disguised Heroism, and
conjugal Love of Osmyn, are justly represented by Mrs.
Pritchard and Mr. Mossop. The heartfelt Sorrow of the
mourning Bride is elegantly exhibited by Miss Macklin,
whose Grief is extreamly becoming all through the Play;
and in the Scene where in a Distraction of Sorrow she
supplicates for her Husband's Life, and thereby makes
the Discovery that Osmyn is Alphonso, the Accents of her
.Affliction are so piercing, and her Distress so exquisite,
that Tears immediately moisten every Eye, and we feel
:Prognostics of that Power which she is likely to have in
Imany of the tenderly-impassioned Characters in Tragedy.
.As Nun Garrick and this Actress are to appear together
5J1 the Parts of Lord and Lady Townly next Saturday,3 for

her own Benefit, we promise ourselves an agreeable

289

290

Entertainment; and make no doubt but she will then re-
ceive a very ample Proof of the Sense the Town has of her

rising Merit in her Profession.

Covent-Garden, Same Night.
Was performed, for the Benefit of Mr. Ryan, Mr.
Farquhar's Comedy, called, The Constant Couple; or, A

Trip to the Jubilee, produced for the first Time in the
4

 

Year 1700. The Public are highly indebted to Mrs. Wof-
fington for the Preservation of this Character, which
would otherwise be lost to the Stage, as not one of our
Comediansseems qualified to undertake this Part, the

more especially as the Memory of Mr. Wilks isnot intirely
worn out of People's Minds.5 She is certainly the only
one fit to represent the fine Gentleman on our Stage at
present; and undoubtedly she supports it throughout with
rreat Spirit.6 The Part is finely imagined, gay, frolick-
ome, and airy; whenever he enters, the Stage is instantly

Llivened, ‘and the Business he is employed in is such as

tertains, though it cannot be said to interest us very

ongly. The Author has not inlisted himself in the

:e of Virtue, nor has he endeavoured, any where, to

ess a proper Moral on the Minds of his Auditors.

Scenes in which the two Clinchers are introduced are

farcical, and should not be admitted within the Pro-

e of Comedy.7 Beau Clincher is not a fit Object for

A .-

its-

I. t -3 .JvZMI-nT.

291

the Raillery of so sprightly a Fellow as Sir Harry, and
his Follies are almost too absurd to make us believe they
ever had a real Existence: According to the Custom of
this Writer the Dialogue frequently dwindles into frivo-
lous Chit-chat; but his Plays in general are so light and
pleasant, that we are always highly entertained with
them, though he does not offer to our Understandings the

Sense and Wit of a Wycherley and Congreve.-

 

1For Congreve's popular tragedy see Theatre
No. 3.

2For Maria Macklin see Theatre No. 6, n. 6.

3Characters in Colley Cibber and Sir John Van-
brugh's The Provoked Husband. See Theatres No.13 and
30.

4This comedy was first acted in November, 1699.
Rothstein, Far uhar, p. 19. Lacy Ryan, l694?-l760, may
have begun his stage career as early as 1710 and he con-
tinued to perform regularly until close to his death in
1760. In the 1750's he was one of the last proponents
of the "exaggerated" style. Though never in the first
rank of actors, for many years he was highly esteemed in
the secondary characters of tragedy and in some comic
roles.

5For Robert Wilks, the inimitable Sir Harry
‘Wildair of the first quarter of the century, see Theatre
No. 3, n. 9. For Peg Woffington see Theatre No. 2, n. 7.

6James Lynch has pointed out that, "so completely
‘was she identified with the part of the fine gentleman
that the presence of the play [The Constant Cou 1e] in the
.repertory of a theatre is a certain indication t at Mrs.
Woffington was a member of the company at the time."
Box, Pit and Gallery, p. 147.

7For Murphy's distinctions between comedy and
farce see above, p. 85.

 

. D «a E. . “
J'Nl’ bl .' HI ID. w It'- nu Ir“
0

.
1 .V‘
is

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, March 31-April 2, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 29.

Drury-Lane, March 31, 1757.
This Evening was performed, to one of the most
numerous and polite Audiences that have been seen this
Season (for the Benefit of Mr. Beard)l Ben Jonson's ’

Comedy, called, Every Man in his Humour. If we consider

 

that this Piece was exhibited in the Year 1598, being
near 160 Years ago, it must be allowed that it is a
Proof of an uncommon Genius to entertain us at this Time
of Day with Ideas and Manners totally obliterated. It
shews that the Painter's Pencil must have been faithful
to Nature, otherwise we should hardly please ourselves,
at present, with Portraits whose Originals are no more;
for, excepting the Picture of Jealousy in the Drawing of
Kitely, there is not one Personage in the Whole Groupe
known to our modern Critics. Besides, the Business lies
so much in what we call middle Life, or perhaps low Life,
and in Parts of the Town disgustful to People of Fashion,
such as the Old Jewry, Lothbury, etc. that nothing but
the strong Colouring of old Ben could support the Piece.
It is worth observing that the Scene of this Play was at

292

 

293

first fixed in Italy, and the Names of the Dramatis Per—

 

egaae were exotic, such as Lorenzo de Pazzai senior,
Lorenzo junior, Thorello, etc.2 But our Author's Dis-
cernment soon perceived the Absurdity of giving a foreign
Drapery to English Personages, and exhibiting the Manners
of Cheapside on the Rialto. He therefore, by a poetical
Act of Parliament, changed their Names, and fixed their
Residence in their own Country. Though there remains
still, as is judiciously observed by the ingenious Mr.
Whalley in his late Edition of this Author, a very remark-
able Absurdity. Wellbred talks of Kitely's Cloaths and
Wine being poisoned; which might be a good Allusion to
Italian Manners, and accordingly it was eagerly caught
at by Thorello, who instantly says, "0 me! I remember
my Wife drank to me last, and changed the Cup, and bade
me wear this cursed Suit To-day." But certainly this
Speech should not remain in the Mouth of Kitely, no such
Custom being known in this Country. "Had Jonson recol-
lected (says Mr. Whalley with great Judgment,) it is
probable he would have varied the Thought, to adapt it
more consistently to the Genius and Manners of the
Spehker."3 It may not be improper to take Notice, that
according to the modern Acceptation of the Word Humour,
this Piece does not by any Means answer the Title.4 A

Critic of these Days would naturally expect a Set of

Humourists, or Men deeply tinged with Habits and Oddities

l'.‘ u _ Afiimh‘”

294

discolouring their whole Conduct; instead of which we
have but one Character of that Cast, which is Kitely;
Old Knowell having no peculiar Mark; his Son and Wellbred
being merely young Fellows upon Town; Stephen and Matthew
two contemptible Half-fools; and in short, all the rest,
excepting Bobadill and Brainworm having no distinguishing
Characteristic. Bobadill's Oddities are not strong
enough to denominate him an Humourist; he has indeed a
ridiculous Affectation of Courage and military Skill;
and when he takes a Kicking, he affords us a very laugh-
able Contrast. Brainworm is an impudent notable Fellow,
and diverts by the various Appearances he assumes: And
Justice Clement is an hearty chearful old Fellow, but
has no particular Bias to the Gratification of any pre-
vailing Humour, or whimsical Turn of Mind. The Poet has
two Passages, one in this Play, and the other in E2222.
Man out of his Humour, which may serve to inform us of
what he intended in the Title.
Cob. Nay, I have my Rheum, and I can be angry
as well as another, Sir.
Cash. Thy Rheum Cob?--thy Humour, thy Humour!--
thou mistak'st--
Cob. Humour!--what is that Humour?--Some rare
Thing, I warrant--
Cash. Marry, I'll tell thee, Cob--it is a
Gentleman-like Monster, bred in the special Gallantry

of our Time by Affectation, and fed by Folly.

’4‘? ‘T‘T‘Tuu.

fl.‘ .lull'nr‘a.:fl. E g
r

a

- ~‘.-t fluid
0

,iui

295

Cob. How? must it be fed?

Cash. Oh! ay;--Humour is nothing if it be not
fed. Didst thou never hear that? it's a common
Phrase, feed my Humour--5

In the Play called Every Man out of his Humour,

 

he hath the following Passage-—
--When some one peculiar Quality

Doth so possess a Man, that it doth draw

All his Affects, his Spirits, and his Powers,

In their Constructions, all to run one Way;

This may be truly said to be a Humour.6
In this latter Passage the Author shews us that he had
formed an exact Idea of Humour in the strict Sense of
the Word: But we apprehend, when he called the Play now

before us Everngan in his Humour, he meant to be under-

 

stood in the former Sense, and intended to shew us a Set
of Men following their Affectations. What was usually
called Manners in a Play began now, says the above-
mentioned ingenious Editor, to be called Humours; the
Word was new, and the Use or rather Abuse of it was ex-
cessive.7 We should therefore be inclined to think that
Ben Jonson took Advantage of a Phrase in Vogue, and in-
tended merely an Exhibition of Manners or Humours in the
loose Sense of the Word, as it was commonly used; and

not a Picture of People under the Operation of one strong

Foible, not vainly assumed out of Levity, or imitative

296

Folly, but rooted in the Mind, and engrossing all their
Thoughts. Kitely indeed is a Character of this latter
Class, and his Spirits and Powers all run one Way, which
may be said to be a Humour. This much we thought proper
to remark concerning the general Idea of the Manners and
Characters of this Play. The main Action turns on the
Jealousy of Kitely: To shew this Foible in ridiculous
Appearances, and to hold up a Mirror, where it may see
itself, is the Poet's principal Scope; though all the
other Characters are busy in their own separate Walks,
and have their own subordinate Pursuits. How far they
all conduce to forward the chief Business, and how they
are blended together, so as to form one coherent and
entire whole, shall be our Enquiry in our next Paper;
when we shall incidentally animadvert on the Sentiment
and Diction, and shall give our Opinion of the acting of
this Piece; their being Matters that would lead us beyond
the Bounds of these occasional Criticisms, were we to

pursue them further at present.

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

The Mourning Bride was acted for the Benefit of Mr.

Sparks, who was amply requited on this Occasion for his

just Performance in the Character of Norval the Shepherd.8

Mrs. Gregory is inferior to Nobody in the Part of Zara:9

Her Person and Deportment are suitable to the Character,

F—u‘

 

297

and in one Particular she seems to excell her Rivals;
viz. In her Manner of uttering the ironical Sarcasms of
Zara, which she delivers with a painful Smile, and a Kind
of mortified Pride, without bordering upon the Regions of
Comedy. Mrs. Bellamy, who has been with held from us by
Indisposition all this Winter, made a very elegant Appear-
ance in Almeria, and made all who heard and beheld her,
sensible that the Stage will lose in her one of its most
beautiful Ornaments.10 Mr. Barry is particularly fine
in the Character of Osmyn:ll His Figure is striking on
his first Appearance; his Recognition of Almeria is ex-
quisitely tender and rapturous: His Impetuosity is
amazing, whentueimagines himself at the Head of his
Troups; and when he says,

Then shall I smear these Walls with Blood,

Disfigure and dash my Face, etc.
9 And a little after,

Then Garcia shall die panting on thy Bosom, etc.12
He delivers himself with such a Vehemence of Love and
Sorrow, and such a tender Outrage of Voice, as must
alarm the whole Audience. Upon the whole, we think Mr.
Barry appears to so great an Advantage in this Character,
that we could wish he would look out for more Parts of

the same Cast, in which he will be always sure to add to

his Reputation, and to the Entertainment of the Public.

.l-u-‘hg_

298

 

lJohn Beard, l7l7?-l791, "was one of the most
eminent English singers and the first to become a leading
vocalist at a time when castrati were singing the leading
male (and sometimes femaIe) parts in opera." Groves
Dictionary 9f Music and Musicians, sub Beard. In 1759
he married John Rich‘s daughter, andiupon Rich's death
in 1761 he became manager and proprietor of Covent Garden,
a position he maintained until 1767 when he sold the
Patent and retired.

2In the preface to Whalley's edition of Jonson,
I, ix—x, the Italian Dramatis Personae of the 1601
quarto were compared with the EninEh characters and
setting of the 1616 folio.

3Whalley, I, xi-xii. For Whalley, and Murphy's
use of his edition see Theatre No. 20, n. 8.

-—-——_4

 

4For Murphy's concept of "humour" see above,
pp. 82-84.

5Between "Humour!" and "what is" read "mack, I
think it be so indeed;" Every Man in his Humour, III,
ii.

6

These lines are spoken in a short dialogue fol-
lowing "the second sounding" or music, and precede Act I.

7Whalley, I, 145, n. 4.

8For Congreve's tragedy see Theatre No. 3; for
Luke Sparks see No. 23, n. 10. NorvaI was his role in
Douglas that Murphy praised in No. 23.

9For Mrs. Gregory see Theatre No. 9, n. 8.

10Though Georgeanne Bellamy, 1731?-l788, seems to
have lacked the professional competence of the great act-
resses of the era, her beauty, personal magnetism, and a
continual public interest in her private life, made her
one of the most popular performers of the day, rivalling
Mrs. Cibber in the heroines of tragedy.

11For Spranger Barry see Theatre No. 4, n. 9.

12Read "will" for "shall," "dash my/Disfigur'd
face," and "lie" for "die." III, i, 350-1, and 358.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, April 2-5, 1757.
THE THEATRE. No. 30.

Drury-Lane, April 2, 1757.
Sir John Vanbrugh's and Mr. Cibber's Comedy,

called The Provoked Husband, was presented this Evening
for the Benefit of Miss Macklin.l Lord Townly, who has
been indisposed for some Years past, was, we hear, so
well recovered, as to see Company that Night.2 How his
Lordship looked, or whether he is in Danger of a Relapse,
we cannot take upon us to say, not having been present
on the above Occasion. It is indeed, reported, that Betts
run high, and he is already pitted against some other
theatrical Peers:3 Of this important Matter our Readers
shall be sure to have the earliest Intelligence, whenever

his Lordship appears in Public again.

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

Was presented the Tragedy of Douglas, being the

fourth Night, for an Account of which, vide two of our

former Papers.4

299

300

Continuation of Remarks on Every Man in his Humour.5
Mr. Dryden has somewhere compared a well-wrought

Comedy to a Country Dance, where two or more lead off,
the rest fall in by Degrees, till they all mingle in the
sprightly Tumult; then they separate into several petty
Divisions; detached Parties are made from the main Body,
and at length they all meet together again, and form one

entire harmonious Movement.6 This Remark we think per- .

”‘1 r

fectly applicable to the Play now under Examination: We

EA.

have already mentioned the principal Personages of the
Piece, with a short Account of their Manners or Humours.
How exquisite is the Poet's Skill in grouping these to-
gether! While each Person has his own By-Concerns, he
helps forward the main Action, and they are all brought
together, and made acquainted with each other by Means
probable and natural. Perhaps no Writer had greater Art
in the Conduct of his Plots than Johnson: He is always
sure to prepare us for every Character worthy our Notice,

and this he does, quasi aliud agens,7 as if minding other

 

Business, in the Course of which we receive accidental
Notices of the Person, who is afterwards to appear; and
thus our Expectation is raised before we see him engaged
in any Scene of Action. Old Knowell opens this Play, and
the Letter from Wellbred, who dives8 in Kitely's Family,
to young Knowell, gives us, casually as it were, a further

Insight into the Business: It promises us more new

301

Characters, and the suburb Humour of Master Stephen is
likely to be entertaining, when contrasted by the City
Fop. Then again, how judiciously is Bobadil described,
and after the Account of his peculiar Oaths and assumed
Valour, his mean Condition is nicely touched by his Land-
lord's saying, 'He owes me forty Shillings, my Wife lent
him out of her Purse by Sixpence a Time.‘9 Bobadil's
Affectation is finely kept up, and we find too that he is
one of Wellbred's Rioters; and he likewise prepares us
for the Character of Downright: We are thus let into a
Knowledge of all the Dramatis Personae, except Kitely,
whose Jealousy being of a secret Nature, that Matter
could only come from himself. And how finely is this
developed! His Fear of being known to be jealous ac-
quaints us with it; and Wellbred's Followers give Occasion
to all his Suspicions. It is observable that Kitely and
Othello complain of an Head-ach, when first their Wives
come to them, amidst their Suspicions.10 The Part Brain-
worm takes in thwarting Old Knowell's Purposes, is di-
verting, and serves to puzzle Matters till the Business
is worked up to a Crisis, which happens from the Rendez-
vous of Wellbred's Revellers at Kitely's House. Then,

in order to favour their separate Schemes, how artfully
is it contrived that Brainworm should send Old Knowell
to Cob's (a suspected House)11 in Quest of his Son, and

that Wellbred should send Kitely in Quest of his Wife,

fm“.‘~.firr~_.r__i.

S

 

302

and the Wife in Search of her Husband, to the same Place;
which occasions their being all brought before Justice
Clement, for whom we have been sufficiently prepared
during the preceding Parts of the Play. Through Brain-
worm it likewise happens that Bobadil and Downright meet
at the Justice's, where every thing being cleared up,
Wellbred, Young Knowell, and Kitely's Sister, are sent
for to the Tavern, then called the Windmill, which then
stood, as Mr. Whalley tells us in a Note, at the Corner
of the Old Jewry towards Lothbury.12 Thus very artific-
ially all Parties are brought together; the Denouement is
skilfully made out; Kitely is convinced of his Error, and
the jolly Temper of the old Justice prevails on them to
conclude the Evening in Chearfulness and Good humour.

If the Limits of our Paper would permit, we could with
Pleasure review separately the Characters of Kitely and
Bobadil, the two conspicuous Figures in this Piece; but
this perhaps is unnecessary, as they are both so well
performed by Mr. Garrick and Mr. Woodward.13 The latter,
in our Opinion, never conceived a Character better than
that of Bobadil, who is the best Braggadocio on the
Stage; his Assurance has a Mixture of Modesty, and is
heightened by it: While he pretends to be a consummate
Master of every Branch of military Knowledge as well as

Courage, he protests he has only some small Rudiments of

the Science, 'as to know his Distance or so.'--When he is

'
1‘ ““m ‘“"--n w... .

303

sure his Friends will prevent Mischief, he begs them to
let his Enemy come on with 'I won't kill him,’ and when
at last he takes a Beating, 'he is planet-struck, fascin-

14---All this Mr. Woodward performs with such

ated, etc.‘
a Reserve and Gravity, and such a judicious Jeu de
Theatre, that he is justly a Favourite with the Audience
all through the Piece. Were we to examine Kitely we
should find the Suspicious Husband to be in some Measure

15 The Scenes where both those Characters

copied from it:
are tempted to confer with their own Domestics, and are
yet afraid to do it, and then continue about it and

about it, palpably resemble each other. Were we to give
the Preference to either, we should declare the modern

to have lopped Excrescences, and to have therefore ren-
dered his Scene a juster Imitation of Nature, where there
is nothing too often touched nor nothing overdone. But
the former has the Advantage of Mr. Garrick's Performance;
in this Actor every Thing has Manners, every Thing has
real Life, and whatever his Author may have done, he does
not any where exceed the natural Workings of Jealousy.'
But this Disquisition must be adjourned till he performs
this Partagain, when we shall trace Mr. Woodward and Mr.

Garrick through all their various Shapes in this justly

admired Comedy.

 

1For this comedy see Theatres No. 13 and 28; for
Maria Macklin see No. 6, n. 6.

304

2The Bills for this performance explain the
allusion: "Lord Townly-Garrick, lst time for 10 years;
Lady Townly-Miss Macklin lst time in the part here."
London Stage, Part 4, II, 590.

3Both theatres were presenting the play this sea-
son and at the other house Spranger Barry usually played
Lord Townly.

4

 

See Theatres No. 23 and the second No. 25.

5See Theatre No. 29.

6Dryden makes this comparison not in regard to .
comedy but to versification in drama. "How comes this
confederacy [having a second speaker supply the last
half of a verse begun by another] to be more displeasing
to you, than in a dance which is well contrived? You see
there the united design of many persons to make up one
figure: after they have separated themselves in many
petty divisions, they rejoin one by one into a gross:
the confederacy is plain amongst them, for chance could
never produce anything so beautiful; and yet there is
nothing in it, that shocks your sight." Essay of Dramatic
Poes , in Essays of John Dryden, ed. W. P. Ker (Oxford,
1900 , I, I03.

7Since I find no particular source for this Latin
phrase, Murphy's own translation, "as if minding other
Business," best captures the intended sense.

8Though Sherbo, New Essays (p. 194, n. 38) records
two other peculiar uses of this word in Murphy's Enter-
tainer, in both "dive" can be read in the sense of
"immerse." Here I suspect a misprint for "lives" since
Wellbred resides with Kitely.

9

r:.-' '1 I «tutu-.7.“ .
~. :0“... ml...—....
' l

 

I, iv.

10"I have a pain upon my forehead here." Othello,
III, iii, 284.

llWrongly suspected of being a bawdy house, or,
at best, a place of assignation.

12For Peter Whalley and his edition of Jonson see
Theatre No. 20, n. 8.

13For Henry Woodward see Theatre No. 3, n. 14.
Bobadil was one of his great roles.

 

305

14I, V; IV, ii; IV, vii.

15Murphy mentioned this influence in a review of

Hoadly's play (Theatre No. 10), and in the second Theatre
NO. 30 he compares the two works.

'n‘xjm'HT’
- .... Rh.— ..z

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, April 5-7, 1757.

THE THEATRE. No. 30.1

As there have been no public Representations at
either of our Theatres, since our last Paper, we shall
endeavour to amuse our Readers, for the present, with an
Examen of the Character of The Suspicious Husband:2 We
shall remark the distinguishing Features; how they are
touched by the Hand of the ingenious Artist; where he
has kept his Eye on the Portrait of Jonson;3 where his
Colouring is feebler; and where the Traits are more
delicate; for finely delicate they often are. The Sus—
picious Husband has this Advantage over Kitely, that he
is lifted above him into a genteeler Sphere of Life. Mr.
Strictland is not a Dealer in Grograms,4 but we find is
just returned from Bath, and has politer Connections in
Life than Kitely, which undoubtedly gives him more Im-
portance, inasmuch as the Concerns of a Gentleman always
attract more Attention than a Tradesman or a Mechanic.
His Jealousy is not occasioned by a Resort of a ridiculous
Bully and Set of Drivellers, to his House, but by the
Gaieties of a Coquette. He dreads his Wife's having a

female Friend. "Clarinda (says he) nor e'er a Rake of

306

'VI—T‘FMM ..-
Q

307

Fashion in England, shall live in my Family, to debauch
it.—-No two of you can never be an Hour by yourselves,
but one or both are worse for it."5
Hence the Cause of his Suspicions; which is at once a
nice Stroke of Satyr, and, while it may be allowed to
disturb a Temper inclined to Jealousy, it does not in-
tirely justify the Suspicion, as when Debauchees and
Rioters frequent a Man's House, which is the Case of
Kitely. Both Poets meant to ridicule groundless Suspi-
cions; and surely the modern Author has imagined this
Part of the Story better than his Predecessor. The Scene
in which Mr. Strictland tempts the Servant is evidently
copied; but even here one Circumstance is altered for

the better, and gives a beautiful Heightening to the
Portrait. Instead of tampering with a Man, he has art-
fully substituted a Maid Servant, which gives Occasion to
this elegant Stroke: "No, she is a Woman, and it is the

7 Then he shifts about

highest Imprudence to trust her."
to his Man Tester; and here again his bad Opinion of
the Women very artfully recurs: "I like his Simplicity
well--But will not his Simplicity expose him the more to
Lucetta's Cunning."8 Then he veers about again, and
thinks he had better trust Lucetta at once; but she may
reveal it to his Wife; and so he breaks into the same

Incertitude, without discovering the least Hint of what

is lurking in his Mind to either of his Servants. These

Hinc illae lacrymae.6

lm""“'" “-W:-.... 1.1

308

Touches shew a fine Sense of Humour, and of Character.
Nothing can be more beautiful than the Accident of Ran-
ger's Hat being left in the Room; and perhaps a Trifle

of that Sort was never wrought up into more Pleasantry.
The Embaras is indeed highly diverting, and very artifi-
cially managed. His seizing his Wife's Letter to Clarinda
from the Maid, serves likewise to expose and to aggravate
his Foible; and when the Servant knocks at the Room-Door
his Behavior is characteristic.--"Hark--Two gentle Taps--
was that the Signal--Ha! another Tap!--The Gentleman is
in Haste, I find."9 Upon his opening the Door, how sen-
sible must he be of his own Folly! The Beauty of the
Poet's Art all through is, that he has made Use of Cir-
cumstances which serve to awaken Mr. Strictland's Jea-
lousy, and at the same Time to make him ashamed of him-
self, which leads by very natural Degrees to a Reforma-
tion in the Close; and this judicious Management Jonson
has wanted till he comes to the Developement of the
whole. When every Thing is cleared up to Mr. Strictland,
and Ranger's running about the House sufficiently explained,
was there ever a finer Stroke in any Play whatever than
when Ranger says, "I don't know whether I had dared or
no, if I had not heard the Maid say Some thing of her
Master's being jealous--Oh! damn me, thought I then, the

10

WOrk is half done to my Hands." This is indeed a just

Satyr upon groundless Suspicion, and finely calculated to

I‘ -‘ixw 374.——

309

correct his distempered Way of thinking, after so many
Feelings of his own ridiculous Folly as he met with the
whole Day. Thus we are judiciously prepared for the
Alteration of evil Habits, and when it happens we acknow-
ledge it to be just and natural. Upon the whole, the
Author's Management of this Part cannot be too much ad—
mired, and if he has had his Eye on Jonson, he has cer—
tainly excelled him in many nice Strokes of Character.

We are glad to find this Play advertised for Mr. Ross's
Benefit on Wednesday next, when we make no Doubt but
there will be a numerous and polite Audience, at once to
admire a Hoadly and a Garrick, and to encourage so pleas-
ing a Performer as Mr. Ross, of whom if we cannot say he
is the greatest Genius, we may at least say he is the

most gentleman like Actor on the Stage.11

 

1For an explanation of the repetition of numbers
see above, p. 100.

2See Theatres No. 7 and 10.

3See Theatres No. 10 and the first No. 30 con-
cerning the infiuence of Jonson on Hoadly.

4A dealer in cloths, fabrics. In the Dramatis
Personae we are told that Kitely is a merchant.

5

 

I, ii.
6"Hence those tears" (The cause of his grief is
now seen). Horace, Epistles, I, xix, 41.

711, iii.

310

811, iii.

9v, i.
10v, ii.

11For Ross see Theatre No. 5, n. 2.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, April 7-9, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 31.

There being a Cessation of theatrical Business
this Week, we think we cannot better fill up this Depart-
ment of the CHRONICLE, than by recommending to the Perusal
of our Readers Mr. Havard's ODE to the Memory of SHAKE-

SPEAR.l

The ingenious Author of this little poetic Com-
position has not adopted the Practice of the Generality
of his contemporary Ode-writers: He has not, like them,
merely endeavoured to give us a motley Piece of patch-
work Versification, composed of Shreds and Remnants from
Spencer, Milton, and Shakespear. The modern Way of
writing Poetry resembles the Method among Boys at School,
where he succeeds best, who remembers the greatest Number
of choice Phrases and Hemisticks from the Classics, and
contrives to weave them altogether in one Piece. This
Artifice, with the Help of a little unintelligible Imag-
ery, and a few abstract Ideas and Passions personified,
will help to furnish out an Ode that shall elevate and
surprize,2 and make us gaze and stare, but leave no Kind

of Trace of Thought or Sense behind it. This lofty Jar-

gon Mr. Havard has not aspired to, but has modestly

311

312

contented himself with uniting both Sentiment and suit-
able Diction; at the same time that it is poetical, it
is a Critique on Shakespear, and in some Places it rises
to the Sublime. We shall not detain our Readers any
longer from the Piece itself, than just to mention that
it cannot fail to be a good Entertainment on the Stage,
when it is rendered still more enthusiastic by the musi-
cal Graces of such a Genius as Dr. Boyce.3
An ODE to the Memory of SHAKESPEAR.
Written by Mr. Havard.
And set to Music by Dr. Boyce.
To be sung at Drury-Lane Theatre, Tuesday the 12th inst.*
by Messrs. Beard, Champness, etc. etc.4
Titles and Ermine, fall behind;
Be this for a Tribute to the Mind:
0 for a Muse of Fire,
Such as did Homer's Soul inspire!
Or such an Inspiration as did swell

The Bosom of the Delphic Oracle!

Or one yet more divine,

 

Thine, SHAKESPEAR, thine!
Then should this Song immortal be;
Nor the Verse blush that praises thee.
Taught by yourself alone to sing,

Sublime you soar on Nature's Wing;

313

How sweet the Strain! how bold the Flight!
Above the Rules
Of Critic Schools,
And cool Correctness of the Stagyrite.
When Horror ombers o'er the Scene,
And Terror with distorted Mien,
Erects the Hair, and chills the Blood; 1
Whose Painting must be understood .E
To strike such Feelings to the Soul? i
What Master-Genius works the whole? i
SHAKESPEAR alone.
He, pow'rful Ruler of the Heart,
With ev'ry Passion plays;
Now strokes the String, and every Part
The magic Touch obeys.
He reigns alone;
Nor can his Throne
Fear Usurpation, or Decay,
Lasting as Time, and bright as Southern Day.
SHAKESPEAR! no single Merit's thine:
How can we sep'rate what's Divine?
Thy Mind effulgent shoots forth Rays,
Like the bright Sun, ten thousand Ways,
Yet is the Body all intire,
One glorious Mass of intellectual Fire.

NOW roars the Scene With Humour's Jest;

314

Now plaintive Sorrows flow:
And now, with Pity's Sigh Opprest,
We feel, we share the Lover's Woe.
When jealous Passions rage,~
What Thunder shakes the Stage!
Loud as the Trump th' Arch-Angel bears,
When the last Sound shall rend the Spheres.
Others may by unwearied Aim,
One Passage only find to Fame;
Thro' one unvaried Track pursue,

And keep the destin'd Mark in View:

But, SHAKESPEAR, that undaunted Soul,

Leaps into Space, and occupies the Whole.
If e'er thy lofty Wing
Too daringly has flown,
'Twas but, Columbus like,
To find out Worlds unknown.
C H O R U S
Then, Britain, boast that to thy Sons was giv'n

The greatest Genius ever sent from Heav'n!

 

*The Reader will please to remember Mr. Havard's
Benefit is on the above Night.

 

For Murphy's friend, the actor William Havard,
and for the background to this ode see Theatre No. 23,

nn. 3 and 4.

\lm—M" _.
Ihcx‘

‘mfnme . . . .v

315

2For this phrase from Villiers' The Rehearsal
see Theatre No. 3, n. 2.

3For the composer, William Boyce, see Theatre
No. 23, n. 4.

4For John Beard see Theatre No. 29, n. 1. Con-
cerning [Samue1?] Champness there is little information
other than his being listed as one of a handful of
regular singers in the Drury Lane company from the 1748/49
season to that of 1773/74. He must, however, have been an
exceptional vocalist for in the 1775/76 season he is
listed in the Covent Garden company as "brought from re-
tirement for the oratorios." London Stage, Part 4, III,

1909.

Oil“_.__.——_~TT i .
. .- cl

" “HF

a... -

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, April 9'12, 1757.
THE THEATRE. NO. 32.

Drury-Lane, April 11, 1757.

This Evening was presented The Beggar's Opera,
written by Mr. Gay, and acted for the first time in the
Year 1727, at the Theatre in Lincoln's-Inn-Fields. It
had a Run of sixty-three Nights the first Season, and has
very deservedly continued to be performed ever since.
In this Piece we have a new Species of Comedy, of which
Mr. Gay has the Honour of being the unrivall'd Inventor,
though many ineffectual Attempts were made in Imitation
of it by Colley Cibber, and others.2 As it was intended
in the Plan of it to be a Burlesque upon Operas, Intricacy
and Complication of Plot were in no way essential; but
the Humour and Strokes of Satyr are all highly exquisite.
It was exhibited some time after the great Reception of
(Gulliver's Travels; and Dr. Swift was so sensible of its
Merit, that in one of his Letters, he writes to Mr. Gay,
'The Beggar's Opera has knocked down Gulliver. Lord!
lnow the University Lads adore youl'3--Indeed all Degrees

and Ranks of Men have justly concurred to admire this

316

'fi‘firt --u-hrn‘
,. I ~11“; __.__'-‘i
A ’ ll

 

317

very admirable Piece of Humour, which is perhaps the

finest Original in our own or perhaps any Language.

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

The Rover, and Dingjdong Bell againl4--

 

 

lGay's ballad opera was first performed on Jan.
29, 1728, at the theatre in Lincoln's-Inn Fields. It had
a run of thirty-two consecutive nights and was played .
sixty-two times in the first winter and spring. London 1
Stage, Part 2, II, 931 and 956.

 

 

Rmm:-—- ,. —,

2Cibber's one imitation, Love in a Riddle (1729),
had no success. However, at the hime Murphy was writing,
three or four comic operas which Cibber had no hand in
were commonly attributed to him. See Ashley, Cibber,
pp. 76-77, and 206.

3The letter is dated Dublin, March 28, 1728.
Murphy rearranged the quotation: in the letter the last
sentence preceded the first by three or four paragraphs.
The Correspondence of Jonathan Swift, ed. F. Elrington
Ball (London, 1913), IV, 21-23.

4For The Rover see Theatre No. 15; "Ding-dong
Bell" refers to Harleguin Sorcerer, see Theatre No. 8,
n. 12.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, April 12-14, 1757.

THE THEATRE. NO. 33.

v-- ‘as-.7 :1 1

To the Admirers of SHAKESPEAR.
Having nothing new to say of theatrical Matters ,

at present, we embrace the Opportunity of informing all

fair-t. 71'? Nam—fir _1_

Persons of Taste, that an Edition of the Works of our
great dramatic Genius is now preparing for the Public by
one of the best Critics of this Age (to speak of him in
the most moderate Terms) who has approved himself, in
various Branches of Writing, an English Classic of the
first Magnitude. It need not be mentioned that Mr.
Samuel Johnson is the Gentleman whom we here intend. His
manly Way of Thinking, his extensive Erudition, his ex-
quisite Taste and sound Judgment, have been sufficiently
displayed in The Rambler. In these beautiful Composi-
tions there is not only to be found a fine Vein of original
Sentiment, but he hath also enriched the English Language
with a copious Variety ofrfiction beyond any of his Con-
temporaries. Add to this that Monumentum Aere perennius
which he hath erected in Honour of his native Tongue;

we mean his Dictionary, in which he hath supplied the

Want of an Academy of Belles Lettres, and performed

318

319

Wonders towards fixing our Grammar, and ascertaining the
determinate Meaning of Words, which are known to be in
their own Nature of a very unstable and fluctuating
Quality. To his Labours it may hereafter be owing that
our Drydens, our Addisons, and our POpes shall not be-
come as obsolete and unintelligible as Chaucer;2 and
from him we may reasonably expect a more correct Edition
of our great Shakespear than has been hitherto offered
to the Public, as he is undoubtedly acquainted with the
Rise and Progress of English Literature, and as he is
thoroughly possessed of all the requisite Qualifications
of a great Critic. By such a Genius the Public may pro-
mise themselves that Difficulties will be explained,
without torturing the Sense; that Errors will be detected,
and the true Reading restored, without Licentiousness,
or obtruding unnatural and unwarranted Alterations; that
the Author's Way of thinking will be preserved, without
an Insertion of childish Conceits; that Beauties will be
pointed out, agreeable to that sublime Imagination which
he is known to be possessed of; and in short, that we
shall have an Edition worthy of Shakespear and of Mr.
Johnson. In this we have delivered our own Opinion with
Candour and Sincerity; and we now beg the Reader will
peruse his own Proposals,3 which, at the same Time, that
they shew the Modesty of the Author in speaking of him-

self, will also prove how thoroughly sensible he is of

320

the Difficulties of his Undertaking, and therefore how
likely he is to succeed in the Removal of them, since we
know him to be possessed of a Genius to which we may
apply what was said of Caesar, 'the Alps and Pyreneans

4 But we shall detain our Readers no

sink before him.‘
longer from Mr. Johnson's own Words. [Here followed a

copy of the Proposals. The reader will find an annotated

 

modern edition of this work in vol. 1 of Johnson on

 

Shakespeare, ed. Arthur Sherbo (New Haven, 1968).]

 

 

1"A monument more lasting than bronze." Horace,
Odes, III, xxx, 1.

2Our Sons their Fathers' failing Language see,
And such as Chaucer is, shall Dryden be. Pope,
Essay on Criticism, 482-83.

 

3Johnson's Proposals For Printing, By Subscripe
tion, The Draaatick Words of William Shakespeare was first
publihhed in 1756; the edition appeared in 1765.

4

 

 

...In vain has nature formed
Mountains and oceans to oppose his passage;
He bounds o'er all, victorious in his march.
The Alps and Pyreneans sink before him. Joseph
Addison, Cato, I, iii, 11-14.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, April 14-16, 1757.
THE THEATRE. No. 34.

Drury-Lane, April 16, 1757.

Shakespear's historical Tragedy of Macbeth was
performed here this Evening: As we have, in two former
Papers, given an Account of the Plan and Writing of this
Play, we have only to remark at present that Mr. Mossop
has very great Merit in the Performance of this Character.l
He seems to have studied the Poet with great Accuracy, and
indeed the Part requires great Labour and Application
from any Performer, who is ambitious of excelling in it.
If our Readers will please to recollect our former
Criticisms, they will perceive, at one View, what a
Variety of Situations Macbeth is placed in; and certainly
there is nothing in the whole Compass of the Player's
imitative Art so difficult as to support a Character
through a long Series of Different Actions, and to pre-
serve the same original Man through a Vicissitude of
Emotions, sometimes exalting, sometimes depressing, now
driving to Madness, and now falling into Melancholy and
Despair. If Mr. Mossop fails in any of the Requisites

for this Part, it is in his Deportment, which, we think,

321

322

has not sufficient Freedom and Gallantry. In the Scene
where his guilty Conscience pictures to him a visionary
Dagger, we are of Opinion, that he displays a great
Judgment: His Countenance is strongly impressed with
Terror, and the deep Tones of his Voice very justly suit
the Solemnity and Awfulness of the Occasion. The Scene
is perhaps one of the hardest to be well executed among
all Shakespear's Plays; because the Poet does not here
so much help the Actor, as in other Passages, but on the
contrary he requires great Aid from the Performer, to
give, as it were, Reality to airy nothing, and terrify
an Audience against the Testimony of the faithful Eyes,

2 The Effect in this Case must pro-

as Horace calls them.
ceed from the strong Tokens the Player gives of his being
possessed with the Idea; and the Idea cannot be excited
but by a strong and creative Imagination. In the Scene
where Banquo's Ghost appears, the Apparatus of the ghastly
Look and bloody Forehead help the Audience and the Actor,
because the Object appears terrible of itself. Therefore
though Mr. Moss0p performs well in this last Situation,
yet we cannot ascribe to him the same Degree of Merit as
in the former. In general throughout the Play he speaks
the Soliloquies with great Propriety; but now and then,

is he not somewhat out of Time in his Pauses? That is to

say, does he not continue too long in them? In Musick a

sudden Cessation of the whole Band has a fine Effect,

323

because it breaks out again very quickly into a full
Tumult of Harmony, which would be greatly hurt, if the
Pause were allowed to be too long. We observed in a
former Paper that a melancholy Gloom overcasts the Mind

of Macbeth;3 but this is by slow and imperceptible Degrees,
till at length it settles into a Kind of determined
Despondency, that makes him grow a weary of the Sun,

and therefore resolved desperately to hazard every Thing.
We think this Performer very just in his Execution of

this difficult Part of the Character; in him we perceive
the strong Brilliancy of the Colouring fade away by pro-
per Gradations till it finally ends in the darkest Shade.
Upon the whole, we are clearly of Opinion, that if Mr.
Mossop will resolve to play this Part more carelessly,

he will play it better; because, while he is over studious
to please, his Deportment becomes constrained, whereas
every Attitude of Macbeth requires Boldness and Freedom;
and indeed in this last Circumstance consisted the superi-
or Merit of Mr. Garrick, who supported this extreme hard
Part with such a commanding Air in every Movement, and
such a graceful Horror, if we may so express it, as has
hardly been equalled even by himself in any other Per-

formance.

I -.‘ .‘ 3 - I‘LJ‘I—J

324

Covent-Garden, Same Night.

Was presented Theodosius; or, The Force of Love,
written by Mr. Lee, and produced in the Year 1680, at the
Duke of York's Theatre.5 This Tragedy is perhaps the
best of this Writer's Productions. Some Circumstances
of the Story are exquisitely beautiful. The Warmth of
Imagination in Varanes and Theodosius is finely conveyed
to us: Their Friendship is delicately touched; and the
Description of Athenais is such as youthful Poets fancy
when they love. It is hard upon Mr. Smith, who, we think,
has Merit in Theodosius, that he is so much overshadowed
by Mr. Barry in Varanes, as not to be sufficiently taken
Notice of by the Audience.6 But indeed Mr. Barry's ad-
mirable Powers for touching the tender Passions are here
exerted in their full Force. The Poet has given every
elegant Embellishment to the Love of Varanes; though in-
deed here, as well as in other Plays, he is apt now and
then to riot a little, and break through the Boundaries of
Discretion. But for this he has pleaded his Apology in
his Preface. "It has been observed (says he) that I
abound in ungoverned Fancy; but I hope the World will
pardon the Sallies of Youth; Age, Despondence, and Dull-
ness, come too fast of themselves. I discommend no Man
for keeping the beaten Road: But I am sure the noble
Hunters, that follow the Game, must leap Hedges and

Ditches sometimes, and run at all, or never come into the

nun-.1---”
' ~ :1 '.

Iemwwmwa_ii

325

Fall of the Quarry."7 Certain it is such a Poet as Lee,
who abounds in such tender Strokes of Poetry, is infinitely
preferable to a cold correct Writer, who preserves an equal
Mediocrity throughout. There are Beauties in the Play be-
fore us sufficient to furnish out half a Dozen modern
Tragedies. We cannot close this Article without tran-
scribing one Passage which Mr. Barry speaks particularly
well. In love every body knows his Accent; but the
following Description has all the Advantages of Spirit and
Variety in his Elocution.

When thro' the wood: we chas'd the foaming boar,

With hounds that open'd like Thessalian bulls,

Like tygers fleec'd, and sanded as the shore,

With ears and chests, that dash'd the morning dews:

Driv'n with the sport, as ships are tost in storms,

We ran like winds, and matchless was our course:

Now sweeping o'er the limit of a hill,

Now with a full career come thund'ring down

The precipice, and sweat along the vale.8

Drury-Lane, 18th.

The Orphan, for the Benefit of Miss Pritchard:

 

And at Covent-Garden, The Committee, for the Benefit of

 

.Mr. Shuter. For both these, see our former Papers.9 We
shall only add, that for the future, when Repetitions of

the same Plays come quick upon us, we shall not open our

326

Theatre merely to mention them, as this Paper is now
crowded with Matter; but shall leave the Space to be
filled with something more valuable than the trivial

Information, that such and such Plays were acted.

 

1For Macbeth see Theatres No. 16 and 17; for Henry
Moss0p see Theatre No. 5, n. 12, and the reviews of his
acting in Nos. 14, 20, and 27.

 

2Segnius irritant animos demissa per aurem/quam
guae sunt oculis subiecta fidelibus et quae/ipse sibi
tradit spectator. "Léss vividly is the mind stirred by
what finds entrance through the ears than by what is
brought before the trusty eyes, and what the spectator
can see for himself." Ars Poetica, 180-2.

3

 

See Theatre No. 17.

41 'gin to be aweary of the sun." V, v, 49.

5In either September or October of this year.
London Stage, Part 1, 291. For Nathaniel Lee see Theatre
No. 11, n.iI5.

6William Smith was a pupil of Barry's and had
made his debut in this role, see Theatre No. 25, n. 3;
for Barry see No. 4, n. 9.

7

 

Read "It has been often observed against me,”.

8For "fleec'd" read "flu'd." I, i, 246-54.

9For The Orphan see Theatre No. 21; for The Com-
lnittee No. 2; and for Miss Pritchard No. 7, n. 11. Ned
Shuter, 17287-1776, began his career in 1744 playing
boys parts and held the stage until the year of his death.
This fine comedian really came into his own in the 1760's
and from that period was regarded as one of the great
comic geniuses of the century.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, December 7-9, 1758.
THE THEATRE .

Covent-Garden, 6th December.

The tragedy of Cleone has gained strength every
night.1 The pathetic powers of the Author having been
felt by many persons of distinguish'd taste, the Ladies
now begin to revolt against fashion, and to send for
places to this long neglected theatre. Indeed it would
have been the highest injustice to Mrs. Bellamy, if the
town had continued incurious about such acting as hers.2
The play being now published, it will perhaps be found
not unentertaining both to the Writer and the Reader, to
point out the particular passages, in which the poet and
the actress have co-operated upon the passions of their
Auditors. This we shall do upon some future occasion; in
the mean time we will assure Mr. Dodsley, that the malev-

olent Vade mecum, which a well-known scribbler recommends

 

to all who intend to see this play, as a proper directory
for their judgments, hath totally missed its aim.3 It
may, indeed gratify the Manager, for whose use it was

principally written: But it will never justify his refusal

327

328

of a piece, which, had it been acted at Drury-Lane, would,
in some degree, have compensated for all the bawdy that

has been there exhibited; as the whole composition of
Cleone tends entirely to exercise the virtuous affections,
to awaken in the heart the tender domestic passions, and

to give the highest gratification to our moral sense, by
striking portraits of the real beauty of Goodness, and

the deformity of Vice. Instead of being confirmed in
gaming, in intrigue, and in lewdness; instead of learning
how to make an assignation at a china-shop, to ruin her
family, and dishonour her husband; every woman, who attends
to this affecting piece, will inevitably go home with
strong tendencies to be very unfashionable; that is to

say, To prove a good Wife, and a tender Mother. To de—
feat, as far as in him lies, these fine impressions, was
the intention of a long since exploded essay-writer.4

But as malevolence generally carries its own punishment
with it, we are glad to hear that the fatality of a farce
hangs over this man's head; and, if Mr. Dodsley is in

any degree vindictive, he will have a fair opportunity

of returning him the compliment, by publishing a few hints,
proper for those who intend to see Dullness wrapp'd in

the Veil of Charity, at.Drury-Lane, on the 20th inst.5
‘When that day is over, we shall suggest to our readers
some idea of the rule by which pieces are received or re-

jected at the said theatre.6

329

Drury-Lane, Dec. 6.

The Comedy of the Busy Body being at present the

 

important object of attention, it is my design to admin-
ister all the materials in my power for the gratification
of public curiosity. In order to enable the critics to
take a-round-about view of the present subject of the
debates at the toilet, at breakfast, at dinner, at supper,
at court, and even at the much adored Whist-table; I
shall give a brief chronicle of the actors, who have
appeared in the character of Marplot, with the distine
guishing marks or specific qualities of each of them,
from the original performer of the part, down to the pre-
sent actor, who fills the Theatre with it three times a
week, and has put the King of Prussia entirely out of
every body's head.7

But before I attempt these, my historical por-
traits of these personages of the drama, it may not be
improper to lay before the reader a just analysis of the
character, as it has been put out of the hands of the
poet: By this criterion, and not the name of a Garrick,
or any other performer, we are to frame a judgment of
the justness or impropriety of the performance.

Marplot, in age, in rank and circumstances, is
under one and twenty, a gentleman, and of a good fortune;

keeps the best company; honest in his passions; of man-

ners not inelegant, at least not under-bred; no swords-man,

330

good natur'd, and ever eager for opportunities (whether
seasonably or unseasonably he does not stay to enquire)
of proving his regard for his friends, and he is ever
officious in their service. By instigations of this kind
his natural curiosity is quickened: his desire of know-
ing every thing is constantly spurred on by the pleasure
he feels in being of use to those of his acquaintance;
and his curiosity perpetually finds the means of gratify-
ing his favourite passion for doing good. It is hard to
say which is his characteristic quality; the two humours,
just mentioned, are so compounded in him, that we can
hardly tell which is predominant; but we plainly see them
both feeding and assisting each other, and from the be-
ginning to the end of the play he is entirely led away
by these propensities, fair and laudable when within
bounds, but in Marplot ridiculous from their over-growth.
For a player to shew himself under the influence of these
double incitements to action it must be allowed, is very
difficult; but in this his whole art should consist, and
he who lets either of these colours too strongly prevail,
will be found by the discerning critic defective in the
character.

Suppose an Angelo, or Hogarth, or any body famous
for making the mind think upon canvass, were to give Mrs.

Centlivre's Marplot in the most striking attitude and

8

circumstances of the character: What qualities would

331

he bring together to compose the man above described?

This once found, the transition will be easy to the player,
and we shall know what sort of person, what manners, and
what deportment he should have to acquit himself like an
artist in this part.

From the circumstance of Marplot's being a ward,
the first and most natural quality a painter would think
of giving him, would be the appearances of youth, which
ever has a softness of features, a careless, giddy,
thoughtless, happy eye. The mimic countenance would not
appear marked with the lines of time: there would be in
his look the emanations of complacency, Chearfulness,
good nature, and general philanthropy: there would be
no traces of suspicion, of jealousy, of envy, of timorous
self-love, or the corrosions of avarice: but all would
be vacant, open and serene. In the drapery, and all the
artificial insignia arising from education, our painter
'would take care to give him a fashionable dress, the
appearance of polished manners, and the disposition of
his whole person would be such as should denote him a
gentleman at first sight.

[To be continued.]

 

1This tragedy by the poet and bookseller, Robert
Dodsley, was first performed on Dec. 2, and was given a
laudatory review by Murphy in the Theatre column signed
WAtticus" of Dec. 2-5. (See Appendix A for this essay.)

332

2For Mrs. Bellamy see Theatre No. 29, n. 10; for
her performance in Cleone see Appendix A.

3The "malevolent Vade mecum" was a pamphlet en-
titled An Account of the Tragedy Cleone (London, 1758),
which disparaged Dodsley's tragedy, and which Murphy
thought was written by John Hill at Garrick's instiga-
tion. Garrick had refused Cleone and Dodsley felt that
he was now trying to eclipse the play by appearing as
Marplot in Mrs. Centlivre's Busy Body (1709), a role that
was "owned" by Henry Woodward? hence, was certain to
attract a crowd eager to view Garrick's challenge. For
background see above, pp. 128-3Q and Dunbar, Murphy,
56-60.

 

4Hill had written the "Inspector" essays in the
London Daily Advertiser.

5Hill's farce, The Rout, ostensibly based on an
idea plagiarized from Murphy and apparently forestalling
Murphy's work by the same title (see above, p. 129), was
played on Dec. 20th for the benefit of the General Lying-
in-Hospital. As a charity piece it was received politely
but when Hill demanded a benefit it was deservedly damned.
Oman, Garrick, p. 220.

6The rancor stems probably more from Garrick's
refusal at this time of Murphy's Orphan of China than
from the refusal of Dodsley's tragedy. Dunbar, Murphy,
chap. 4.

7At this point in the Seven Years' War the German
alliance was being warmly debated in the periodicals,
and the victories of Frederick of Prussia, one of the few
bright spots for England at this stage, were constantly
in the news. Spector, Periodicals, 35-60, passim.

8The painter and engraver William Hogarth, 1697-
1764, and Michelangelo, who was often referred to at this
time as Michael Angelo. Compare Aaron Hill's feeling
that if Hogarth, who had portrayed a pleased theatrical
audience, were to attempt a "displeased and ill-natured
one," such a piece "tho' more horrible beyond measure
than Michael Angelo's Last Judgment might have stronger
effects than a statute in reforming the abuse against
which it would be levelled." The Prompter, No. 136.

 

 

 

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, December 9-12, 1758.

THE THEATRE.

Drury-Lane, Dec. 9.

The Busy Boay was again repeated at this Theatre

 

to a crowded audience: a convincing proof that the Manager

can cram the gaping town with his chapon bouillé as often

 

as he pleases;1 and as a Satire on the public taste we
are told at the head of each Play-bill, how often they
have been made fools with this old revived New Piece.
Having in our last given, as we imagine, a just
description of the Character, and of the external appear-
ances, which accompany Marplot, we shall at present give
the reader an historical deduction of the various trans-

migrations of the Busy_Body, from its first exhibition

 

down to the present time.
The first person whom I find in the dramatis per-

2 of whom tradition says,

egaae for this part is Mr. Pack;
that he was of an agreeable person, a pleasing voice, and
an open, vacant, undesigning countenance: what he wanted
in skill and art, he derived from the novelty of the

character, to make himself the favourite of the town; and

with something of the Fribble3 interwoven into his natural

333

334

deportment, he passed upon his judges for a very good
Marplot, insomuch that he gained the name of the Busy

Body; and afterwards kept a tavern, called Marplot's

 

Heaa. To him succeeded one Bickerstaff,4 without any
requisites at all for the character; he had neither
youth, person, voice, or countenance. Joe Miller,5 who
stands next in the Theatrical Chronicle, and whose Jests
are at present in high esteem with all the sayers and
retailers of good things, was, what is generally called,
an actor of spirit: not very remarkable for the excel-
lence of his understanding, but very happy in the buffoon-
ing way of humour, as Lord Shaftsbury calls it.6 He had
a comical kind of face, a shrill voice, and was excellent
in that species of absurdity which gives the idea of a
simpleton or fool. The famous Mr. Nokes was the founder
of this school of acting.7 Of Nokes, Cibber says,-"the
ridiculous solemnity of his features was enough to set

a whole bench of Bishops in a titter. When be debated
any matter with himself, he would shut up his mouth with
a dumb studious pout, and roll his full eye into such a
vacant amazement, such palpable ignorance what to think
of it, that his silent perplexity gave your imagination
as full content, as the most absurd thing he could say.
He had a shuffling shamble in his gait, and an awkward
absurdity in his gesture, that you would not suppose he

had a grain of common sense."8 Studied in this stile of

335

acting, Joe Miller entertained the town with the character
of Marplot, and hitherto each performer represented him
with his shoulders up to his ears, a downright stupid
country looby, until Mr. Theophilus Cibber (who, it is
said, was lately lost in the Irish Seas) gave it the air
of a pert, forward, impudent, town coxcomb;9 not being
able to give the rustic simplicity of his predecessors,

he shaped the part in another way, and with the assistance
of a grotesque visage, squint and grimace, he made a shift
to procure many admirers. Upon his leaving the company

at Drury-Lane, the Buey Body fell to the lot of Mr. Mack-
lin, an excellent actor in parts that fitted him, who

has laboured more to come at the true spirit of theatrical
criticism, than any of his brethren, and is actually in
possession of more knowledge of his art, and of the drama
in general, than any actor on the stage.10 But so long
ago as the year 43, a certain manager, it is said, injured

11

him essentially, and hinc illae lacrymae; Macklin is

 

banished from the stage; so true is the saying, that the
doer of wrongs never forgives the person he has prejudiced.12
But Mr. Macklin, however skilful in his execution of many
characters, was not by nature fitted for Marplot: his
features are too strong, and his looks too busy: every
cast of his eye denoted too much thought, and the florid,
free, and vacant, were not sufficiently in his mien and

countenance. Tho' nature had enabled him to acquire

336

great skill in his business, yet in the externals requisite
for Marplot, she had protested against him, and therefore
we do not find that his success was equal to his judgment.
This is the genealogy of Marplot at Drury-lane. At
Lincoln's-Inn-Fields, in the mean time, Christopher
Bullock, a pupil of old Cibber's, appeared in the part.13
Bullock was tall, agreeable in his person, had a comic
kind of voice, which vented itself in a shrillness of
tone, but never sunk into meanness. He was a good actor,

14

and was the first who bodied forth, as Shakespear

 

phrases it, the character of Marplot. In him you saw a
young man of tolerable breeding, genteel deportment, an
expressive face, and frequent variations of expression;
and, in short, he executed naturally, what The.Cibber
aimed at by the false succedaneum of twisting his features.
Bullock was a true comic genius, but he died in his prime.
After him came one Egleton, who had formerly been a page
at court;15 being in himself thoughtless, extravagant,
good—natured, totally regardless of consequences on all
occasions, he transfused those qualities into his acting
of Marplot; and all these qualities being kept awake by
the natural curiosity of the part, Mr. Egleton acquitted
himself with a graceful absurdity, and no small degree

of pleasantry. On his death, the part was taken up by

an actor, of whom the town had little expectation for

some years; which indeed was chiefly owing to his being

337

thrown into improper.characters; but a sudden accident
producing him in more suitable situations, he grew into
great esteem: in Marplot he was excellent. The person
I mean is the late Mr. Chapman.l6 In spight of a person
not very graceful, and a voice rather hoarse, unharmoni-
ous, and not youthful, yet he found means to be perhaps
the best Marplot that ever trod the stage. He had great
good nature, and strong appearances of a friendly dis-
position in his countenance. This last is an indispen-
sible requisite; without these externals, the part cannot
be performed; as we have shewn in our last, that benev-
olence, and the love of his friends, are among the
characteristic passions that actuate Marplot. In these
particulars nature had not entered a Caveat against
Chapman; on the contrary, she favoured him; and, in con-
junction with these requisites, his curiosity took so
fine a possession of him, that he ever appeared desirous
to know what was going forward, that he might do good to
his friends; and his desire to do good, led him into many
awkward perplexities, in which he ever behaved with a
face unalterably fixed in the pursuit of his favourite
passions; and while the difficulty in which he involved
himself shook your sides with laughter at his folly, the
whimsical earnestness of his looks, and the busy gravity
of his eye, rendered the ridicule still more rich and

poignant. We could with pleasure trace Chapman thro' the

338

particulars of the part; but we have already overflowed
into great length. In our next we shall give a parallel
between Mr. Woodward and Mr. Garrick, the present compet-

itors for the laurel.

Covent-Garden, Same Day.
The Tragedy of Cleone has given the strongest
proof of success, by drawing better houses than in the
beginning of the run.17 We shall embrace the first
opportunity to give our readers some of our closet re-

flections on this piece.

 

lCompare Dryden's use of this phrase: "But one
Oedipus, Hercules, or Medea had been tolerable: poor
people, they escaped not so good cheap; they had still
the chapon bouillé [boiled capon] set before them, till
their appetites were cloyed with the same dish, and, the
novelty being gone, the pleasure vanished; so that one
main end of Dramatic Poesy in its definition, which was
to cause delight, was of consequence destroyed." Essay
of Dramatic Poesy, in Ker, I, 46.

 

 

2George Pack, fl. 1700-1724, primarily a comedian,
was the original Marplot in both The Busy Boay and Mrs.
Centlivre's 1710 sequel entitled Mar-Plot. After his
retirement he opened a public-house called the 'Busy Body'
under the sign of a full length portrait of himself as
Marplot.

3In Garrick's Miss in Her Teens, the character
of Fribble was meant to expose 17the pretty gentlemen, who
chose to unsex themselves, and made a display of delicacy
that exceeded feminine softness." Murphy, Life of Garrick,
I, 118.

 

 

 

 

4There was an actor by this name who played the

role of the Captain in, oddly enough, Mrs. Centlivre's
farce, A Bickerstaffs Burying (March, 1710), but I find
no other information concerning this performer.

 

339

5Joe Miller, 1684-1738, was allegedly a competent
comedian but his chief fame seems to have stemmed from the
well-known jest book that was unwarrantably given his
name. See Theatre No. 2, n. 15.

6See Part I, ii-v, of "An Essay on the Freedom
of Wit and Humour," in Characteristicks, I.

7James Nokes, d. 1692?, began his career in 1659
as a boy actor in the company assembled by Rhodes at the
Cockpit. He was the leading comedian of the latter
seventeenth century.

 

8Murphy does not misquote but he selects phrases
and sentences from a more elaborate description. See
Cibber, Apology, 83-6.

9For Theophilus Cibber see Theatre No. 27, n. 3.
He drowned in October, 1758, when the ship on which he
was crossing to Dublin foundered off the coast of Scot-
land.

10See above, pp. 20 and 87.

lJ'"Hence those tears." Horace, Epistles, I,
xix, 41. See Murphy's use of this phrase in the second
Theatre No. 30.

12In 1743 Macklin and Garrick led an actors'

strike against Fleetwood, then manager of Drury Lane.
The strike failed and Garrick and the others were re-
engaged but because of Fleetwood's personal animosity
Macklin was not. Macklin and his supporters felt that
Garrick had broken the covenant and was to blame for
Macklin's banishment--an exile that lasted until the
1747/48 season.

13The actor and dramatist, Christopher Bullock,
l690?-1724, was Lincoln's Inn Fields' challenger in the
comic roles played by Colley Cibber at Drury Lane.

14"And as imagination bodies forth." A Midsummer
Night's Dream, V, v, 14.

15Of Egleton there is little known. He played
this role from 1723 to 1726 and Genest, III, 81, says
that according to Chetwood, Egleton's "person was per-
fectly genteel, and he was a very pleasing actor, but
through a wild road of life, he finished his journey in
the 29th year."

 

340

16The career of Thomas Chapman, d. 1747, seems

to have begun about 1723, and Genest, IV, 220, mentions
that "he was celebrated for Brass, Marplot and Lucio,

for all Shakespeare's clowns and particularly Touch-
stone."

17For this tragedy of Dodsley's see the preced-
ing Theatre essay and nn. 1 and 3 to that essay.

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, December 19-21, 1758.
THE THEATRE .

In my last I promised a parallel between Mr.
Garrick and Mr. Woodward in the character of Marplot.l
As I have already given a delineation of the character,
and the criterion, by which the performance of it should
be judged, the question now before us will admit of an
easy discussion.2 I shall arrange the remarks I have to

make under the heads which are essentially necessary to

be considered in an examination of a point of this nature.

The External Insignia of the Character.

Mr. Woodward has about him some traces of youth;
he is loosely genteel in his person; has the air of a
gay, giddy, unthinking town coxcomb: though he does not
altogether appear the fine gentleman (which by the way is
unnecessary in this part) he does not seem mean, or
unbred: his deportment is easy and debonaire, very well
adapted to the strenuous idleness of Marplot; and he is
so capable of mingling a tincture of the simpleton, in
all parts where it is proper, that this character sat

very easy upon him; and in all situations it seemed to

341

342

come to him, as the theatrical critics generally phrase

 

it: not to mention that his dress was well chosen.

Mr. Garrick looks much too old for a ward; has
not that frankness in his mien, which is peculiar to his
rival: he cannot assume the giddy and the undesigning:
he seems on many occasions in the play to be more under-
bred, than is consistent with Marplot's circumstances;
and all through the piece we see him attempting toggo to
the character (to use another town phrase) while the
discerning critic cannot help remarking that he ought to
observe the advice of the poet, when he says,

Leave such to trifle with more grace and ease,

Whom folly pleases, and whose follies please.3

The Countenance.

 

In this Mr. Woodward was perfectly happy for the
character in question. He appeared innocent of an idea,
till some present object excited it, and even then it
seemed but a kind of half-conception, which however served
him as a will-o'-the-whisp to lead him on blundering,
as it were, into sense, but ever mistaking his path, and
running into absurdity. In this however, he seemed to
have no harm, but, on the contrary, strong appearances
of the characteristick goodness of Marplot. He does
mischief so innocently, that we all forgive him from our

hearts; and, whenever he does wrong, they who suffer by

343

it see plainly that his meddling disposition carries its
atonement along with it. His looks are busy, but fool-
ishly so; and he is like the Absent Man in this point,
that while a crowd of circumstances are about him claim-
ing his attention, he is attached to a single point,
namely his eagerness to know every thing that he may be
of service to his friends, and, on that account, he very
naturally is regardless of all other consequences.

Mr. Garrick's face is strongly marked with great
sensibility; it ever has the pale cast of thought;4 the
traces of care are rather too legible: every look of
his seems to carry with it a degree of cunning, and of
sharp discernment: he has sometimes the curiosity of the
Double Dealer,5 rather than that of Marplot, and when he
would appear undesigning, is it not something of a counter-
feit thoughtfulness, which seems to gleam, but faintly,
over features generally fixed in habitual intenseness of
thought? In short, Mr. Garrick cannot look undesigning;
nor can his curiosity be thought to have its source in a
total inattention to his own affairs, and the good-
natured principle of helping others. It looked, to me,
as if he had a sly intention to mar the projects of his
friends, and, when the mischief is done, he assures them
that 'He has a great regard for them, and meant them well.--
But--a,--things have so fallen out, that a--but to be sure

he never loved any body so well in his life.‘

344

Voice.

Mr. Woodward, as we have observed of Bullock and
Pack,6 has a comical shrillness in his powers of elocu-
tion, that, when he pleases, sounds unthinking, and al-
ways inspirits every scene, where absurdity and whimsical
distress are concerned.

Mr. Garrick's voice is remarkably distinct, ar-
ticulate, and sensible, and every tone of it sounds as
if it were influenced by a thinking mind. His modulation,
which is very fine in most characters, is here too regu-
larly and significantly harmonious for a silly, empty,
giddy, frolicksome fellow; and, like his looks, it seems
to be the effect of an understanding that attends with
accuracy to its own ideas:

'-- -- -- -- --His Soul

Still sits at squat, and peeps not from its hole.'7

Genius.

In this Mr. Woodward is not by any means deficient:
He has imagined so many characters with propriety, that
it would be injustice to deny him a considerable portion
of the Vis comica.

But in genius Mr. Garrick has not his equal. His
imagination is generally correct, and always lively: it
paints things to him in warm and strong colourings; and

thence it results that he often makes beautiful impres-

sions on his audience. He generally perceives, to use an

345

expression of Dr. Akenside's, the finest attitudes of

 

things.8 But Genius cannot do every thing: it cannot
create imagery. It can command the whole intellectual
train; it can awaken passions in its own breast, and
convey their operation to others; but~it cannot give a
new face; it cannot recall the days of youth; wear out
the visible lines of thought; put another eye in the
head; nor form, for the purpose of one night, the organs
of speech over again. It has performed wonders in Mr.
Garrick, and with the help of chalk and charcoal makes
him a Lear or an Abel Drugger.9 But with such assist-
ances Marplot would be grotesque; and upon the whole, he
is not by nature fitted for this character, which he has

chosen, in my opinion, very injudiciously.

The Execution.

 

Mr. Woodward is equal throughout the part; ever
giddy, good-natur'd, boyish and unthinking. Curiosity
and a desire to serve his friends are always uppermost,
and go hand in hand. In Mr. Garrick, the character
appears variegated and inconsistent. Curiosity seems to
be the predominant, nay the only passion, and he is too
intensely busy in almost every scene; occasionally he tips
the audience the wink; "Now for it, says he, you shall

see a bit of mischief." Pulchra Laverna, da mihigfallare,10

 

seems to be his wish, rather than any benefit to poor

Charles. He is so violently in earnest to see the monkey,

346

that any body of common sense, who knew the danger, would
take care he should not; whereas Woodward is at first
foolishly and giddily bent upon it, but then he very soon
desists, and you see him look over his shoulder with his
head averted from the company, boyishly enjoying the
thoughts of a peep at Pug, and concealing his design from
every one, insomuch that he is the readiest in his vacant
manner to quit the room: this is the very nature of
curiosity; in order to gain its end, it appears undesign-
ing. Then Woodward returns in the highest glee to take a
view of the Monkey, and when the china is thrown down, he
does not stand aghast as if he had seen a ghost: no
snivelling; no whimpering; in his countenance you read a
joy that his friend is escaped, and a confusion for the
danger he had incurred; and to cover the whole, he briskly
and pleasantly tells how Pug flew into his face, etc.11
When Mr. Garrick gets behind Miss Macklin to evade a
cudgelling, he stands laughing at the old fellow with
the pleasantry of Ranger;12 when he draws his sword in
the last act, his fencing attitude, and whole manner, put

13 it is the same trick over again:

us in mind of Don John;
in another scene we have a touch of Abel Drugger, and
when he is eating an orange, instead of the gay, the

vacant, and the careless genteel young man, one would
swear he is c0pying Shuter in Squire Richard.l4 These

contrarieties are surprising in Mr. Garrick, as on all

347

other occasions he acts uniformly upon one plan; and, for
the most part, upon true principles. To conclude,
throughout the whole character of Marplot, he is so mot-
ley, that he seemed to me like Harlequin making up a
pound of snuff with a pinch from every body's box, Rapee
and Spanish, etc. jumbled together; or like the miser,
mentioned by Fielding, who was happy when he picked his
own pocket of a guinea, and with joy locked it up in his
bureau.15

P. S. It were injustice not to mention that in
the scene, where Marplot attempts to bully the old man,
Mr. Garrick acts then like himself, and has the advantage
over his antagonist:16 The circumstance of running about
from door to door to alarm the neighbourhood by using the
different knockers, might as well have been reserved for
a pantomime. In Woodward's absence it might have been

17 I must add, in Mr. Garrick's just praise,

of service.
that this is the first part in comedy, in which, I think,

he has fallen very short of himself.

 

lFor Henry Woodward see Theatre No. 3, n. 14.

2See the preceding two unnumbered Theatre essays.

3Pope, "The Second Epistle of the Second Book of
Horace Imitated," 326-7.

4"Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought."
Hamlet, III, i, 85.

348

5Maskwell in Congreve's The Double Dealer, see
Theatre, No. 14.

 

6See preceding Theatre essay.
7POpe, Moral Essays, I, 114-5.

8Murphy appears to be misquoting, "The fairest,
loftiest countenance of things." Mark Akenside, The
Pleasures of the Imagination (1757), I, 46.

9In the Alchymist, see Theatre No. 20.

 

 

lo"Fair Laverna [the goddess of theft], grant me
to escape detection." Horace, Epistles, I, xvi, 60-l.
11

"No great Harm, I beg of you to forgive me.
Longing to see the Monkey, I did but raise up the Board,
and it flew over my Shoulders, scratched all my Face,
broke yon China, and whisked out of the Window." IV, iv.

 

 

12In The Suspicious Husband, see Theatres No. 7
and 10.

13In the Chances, see Theatre No. 3.

14

For Ned Shuter see Theatre No. 34, n. 9; Squire
Richard, a character in the Cibber-Vanbrugh Provoked
Husband, see Theatre No. 13.

15
allusion.

16For the circumstances behind this vitriolic
comment see above, p.l29 and nn. 3 and 6 to the unnum-
bered essay of Dec. 7-9.

l7Woodward, who in addition to his excellences as
a comedian was also Drury Lane's leading Harlequin, had
gone with Barry this season to open a new theatre in Dub-
lin.

 

I am unable to identify the source of this

APPENDICES

APPENDIX A

"ATTICUS" LETTER OF NOVEMBER 18-21, 1758, AND
THE THEATRE, DECEMBER 2-5, 1758.

 

THE LONDON CHRONICLE, November 18-21, 1758.
TO the PUBLISHER of the LONDON CHRONICLE.

SIR,

I Have observed that your paper, ever since its
commencement, has been uniformly and equally supported
in all its various departments, one excepted; namely,
the theatrical animadversions. Your news hath been col-
lected with all possible accuracy; and your analysis of
books hath preserved a just impartiality and discretion,
neither wantonly praising, on the one hand, or malignantly
censuring on the other. But can this be said of your
paragraphs dated from the Playhouse? In truth, the pris-
matic glass of flattery hath occasionally thrown such
random and indiscriminate lights on all objects, that our
eyes begin to be dazzled, and we turn away from the false
delusive glare with aversion and disgust. When a writer
runs on in a strain of panegyrick, and overflows into

general praise for two or three columns, he puts me in

349

350

mind of a lady, in whose company I once happened to dine,
"la! (says she) what a mighty pretty room this is--well,
to be sure I never saw such chairs in all my born daysl--
charming table linenl--sweet knives and forks!--and these
are pretty plates too!--and, la!--did any body ever see
such beautiful saltsellers, and the dear lovely little
spoons in the middle of 'em!"—-It is impossible, Sir,
that every performer in a theatrical exhibition can de-
serve elaborate commendation, nor can such commendation
be of any credit to your paper, because the enlightened
part of mankind must withold their assent; and certainly
it can be of no service to the lowest class of your
readers, because they are not thereby informed of the
principles of a just and well regulated taste.

To give assistances to the faculty of the mind,
just mentioned, and to make the gross of mankind not al—
together irrational in their enjoyments, but on the con-
trary to awaken in them some idea of truth and prOpriety,
in the art of dramatic poetry and the business of an
actor, was, I imagine, the primary intention of the plan
of your paper. And this, and this only, can justify the
allotment of so much room in the Chronicle to imaginary
heroes, who, most assuredly, are not so much the objects
of public attention, as the importance of a man to himself
may make the players dream they are. A friend of mine

once told me a story of a young girl with whom he

351

travelled in a stage coach to Kensington: "The Town is

most prodigiously busy," says she. Pray Ma'am, said the

 

Gentleman, what employs the Town so much at present?--
"Short aprons, Sir, are coming into fashion, and every
body's hurried out of their wits to make 'em fast enough."--
Not unlike this girl, who conceived that what was doing
in her mistress's shop must be the concern of mankind,
the Players, as soon as the Houses Open, suggest to them-
selves that the memoirs of the Theatre engross all our
imaginations; and P. P. the Parish-clerk, is outdone in
self-sufficiency by every actor in the company.

May it not be fairly inferred, Sir, that the
writer, who has hitherto supplied you with criticism, has
viewed them all in the same light? how otherwise could
it happen that a muster-roll of their names hath been so

constantly presented to us? ad captandum vulgus. To

 

promote the sale of your paper, each actor will tell you
his name is inserted: But if I understand the humours
of the public rightly, a treatise upon insects would
answer the purpose full as well; and the oeconomy and
prudence of the Ant would make as considerable a figure

in print, as the management of any theatrical grub what-

 

ever.
Indeed, if the art be developed; the rule of just
imitation established; the rise and process of each passion

explained; the beauties of a well complicated fable

352

pointed out; the touches of character rendered still more
pleasing to the intelligent, and palpable to the unfeel-
ing; if it be remarked where poetry, sentiment, and pas-
sion, are assembled by the poet, and where the actor
catches the flame from him, and glows with a natural
warmth: in short, if nature be explained in her secret
workings, by a judicious critic, and new lights be let
in upon the mind of the reader, then indeed the Chronicle
may receive advantage and reputation.

To perform all this, I grant, is a difficult task,
and more than can be expected in the course of so quick
a publication; but some approaches may be made towards
it. If every writer in this way would preserve an in-

dependant spirit, and exercise the portion of Judgment,

 

which hath fallen to his share, with Integrity, the

 

criticism would then be manly; and when it is not so, it

is downright meanness. Si paulum a summo deassit, ver-

 

git ad imum. Why will not an author be of some little

 

consequence to himself, as well as the players? Indeed

to lavish a profusion of praise, the Histrionalis favor,

 

has been the vice of many writers of the age. They have
vied with each other in verses to each popular actor;

they have made themselves cheap to the under-servants of
the muses, and have exalted some of them into an importance
of which they have been known to make an arrogant and

self-interested use. Potentia sua ad impotentiam est

 

353

usus. If we look into the Spectator, the Tatler, and

 

the Guardian, we shall find that the authors of those

 

papers acquitted themselves in their calling with a
chaste reserve in this, as indeed in every other respect;

and tho' the late Colly Cibber was a manager, and may

 

very fairly be accounted, without any disparagement of
the present race of actors, in his double capacity of
Dramatic Author and Performer, a genius greatly superior
to any of his successors, yet there are no traces of
adulation to be found in any of the compositions of his
contemporaries. Could a manager in these times produce
a comedy within a hundred degrees of the merit of the

Careless Husband, what reams of commendatory poems would

 

be poured forth!--what a number of c0pies of verses would
be left at the printers by unknown handsl--and in an ex-
tacy how would a certain writer cry out, "Did ever dramat-
ic characters rain such uproars of applause?"*--To speak

a plain truth, Sir, it seems to me, as if Mr. Bowman, the
humble attendant of Lord Chalkstone, had penned most of
the criticisms I have lately seen; and from the writers
the same idle spirit of adulation descends to the readers,
and runs among them from Coffee—house to Coffee-house
throughout this metropolis: and thus--it is remarkable

what I am going to say--thus a very ingenious French

 

*
Vide Estimate of the Manners.

354

T who has lately written against the stage, enjoys

writer
a full completion of the wish (namely that a theatrical
madness should rage among the enemies of his country)
which he has placed in the title page of his book. Dii
meliora piis erroremque hostibus illum.--

You will ask me, Sir, if I would have the above-
mentioned spirit of adulation converted into a strain of
invective? I answer, no; all extremes are vicious. I
would not have the writer of the Chronicle take a malig-
nant ungentlemanly pleasure in abuse, nor would I have
him condescend to pimp for a playhouse. Truth should
direct his pen: he should consider whether the managers
of our theatres act agreeably to the laudable purposes
of the dramatic muse; whether they abstain from baudy
plays, and baudy farces, with many points of enquiry
equally interesting: and, as I have remarked already,
the end of his writing should ever be to extend the prin-
ciples of a true taste, both in writing and acting. Were
it not very trite, I should say in the words of Tully,
That he should not dare to hazard what is false, and that
he should dare to speak every truth.

These, Sir, are my sentiments concerning the
office of a writer, who holds intercourse with the public

and takes upon him to direct the general taste. If you

agree with me, I shall sollicit a place for this letter

 

1”Rousseau of Geneva.

355

in the Chronicle; and after that, if the correspondence

of so blunt and unfashionable a critic shall prove accept-
able to you, or your readers, I shall continue to send
you some occasional animadversion, as they may happen to
occur in my visits to either theatre; and this I shall
endeavour to do like a gentleman anda scholar; certainly

I shall ever do it with an INDEPENDENT SPIRIT and with

TRUTH. I am, Sir, you constant reader, and humble ser-

 

vant,
Nov. 20, 1758. ATTICUS.
THE LONDON CHRONICLE, December 2-5, 1758.
THE THEATRE.
To the Author of the Theatrical Paragraphs.
SIR,

Having observed that you gave a place in your
department of the Chronicle to the letter, which I sent
you, not very long since, relative to the spirit and
morals of a critic, I shall now solicit room for another
short epistle. The subject I mean to touch upon is Mr.
Dodsley's Tragedy of Cleone. Concerning this piece the
common Newspapers have informed us of an anecdote, which,

in my opinion, gives a kind of poetical consecration to

the story, and demands for it the attention of the public.

356

When we hear that Mr. Pope had made choice of the Legend,
on which the present tragedy is founded, in order to raise
a dramatic superstructure upon it, indeed we regret that
his fine imagination was not exerted to finish the design:
then we should have felt the power of the author of Eloisa

to Abelard; all the fine strokes of passion, all the ve-

 

hemence of love, madness and despair, in all probability,
would have been introduced into the piece. But, it is
said, his apprehension of ill treatment from an incensed
manager deterred him from the execution of his plan. The
public are however indebted to Mr. Dodsley for giving us
Mr. Pope's favourite subject; the more especially as he
has laid the circumstances in a manner so interesting and
affecting, that they brought tears from every eye in the
Theatre, on the first night of its exhibition.

It is not my purpose at present to give a detail
of the fable, lest I should deprive those who have not
seen it acted, of the pleasure of learning the whole in
a more feeling manner at the playhouse: and indeed to be
guilty of such an anticipation before the run of the play
is over, would be an act of injustice to the author.

When it is published I shall send you some critical re-
marks upon it; in the meantime I must own I had a pleasure,
which the Theatre has not afforded me this great while;
I mean the pleasure of relieving real heartfelt anguish

by a flood of tears. And this did not happen once only;

357

the humanity of the whole audience burst into these over-
flowings several times during the representation. The
effect was produced by a tale of domestic distress, con-
ducted with perspicuity and simplicity. The language is
not so laboured and metaphorical as the Theatrical dic-
tion has been of late years; to elevate and surprise was
not the aim of the author. To move the heart with the
natural strokes of an Otway, rather than of a Eggs, seems
to have been the intention of Mr. Dodsley; and the tears
poured forth on the occasion are the best evidences that
he has not mistaken his talents.

Having paid my tribute of thanks to the author,
it were downright ingratitude, should I dismiss this
letter without mention of Mrs. Bellamy. Never did a part
more naturally become an actress: her first appearance
was amiable and interesting; and her words fell from her,
as if they were the pure effusions of her heart. Artless
innocence, truth, candor, and every lovely quality, seemed
to accompany her in her distress; the storm no sooner
began to gather about her, than every mind in the theatre
took a tender interest in her fortunes; and her departure
from her own house, in order to fly for shelter to her
father's, with her little infant, was executed by this
performer in a manner so affecting, and with such genuine
accents of the passions, that he must have arrived at a

very high degree of inhumanity, who can hear and see her

358

without melting into tenderness. Were I'to say that I
have not seen scenes of madness better executed either
by Mr. Garrick or Mrs. Cibber, I am sure I might hazard
the assertion without being confuted by any judicious
critic, who has felt the power of Mrs. Bellamy in the
character of Cleone. Her attachment to her dear infant,
the fixed position of her eyes, which shewed that every
other object was excluded from her mind, her tender
prattle to him, when she thinks him alive, and her lamen-
tations over him, when again she thinks him dead, were
traits of nature as finely performed by her, as they were
difficult to be executed. Her gradual recollection of
her senses, after a fainting fit, will hardly be excelled
by any performer on the stage. I have seen a circum-
stance similar to this, admirably exhibited in King Lear:
but Mrs. Bellamy did not fall short of it. There was a
slow movement of the eye that denoted astonishment, and
marked, at the same time, the ideas that slowly broke in
upon her recovering understanding. Her manner of gazing
at her father, and by degrees recollecting him, was ex-
quisitely tender; and, to be brief, the paleness that
covered her face, till she expired, spoke an imagination
feelingly possessed by the ideas which nature and the
poet suggested.

After having censured, in a former letter, all

those writers who are too lavish of their praise, I should

359

not have been so profuse of it myself, were I not con-
vinced from the uproar of applause given to Mrs. Bellamy,
when she came on to speak the epilogue, that I have here
delivered the sentiments of the whole audience.

I shall conclude with saying, that Mr. Sparks
pleased me, in spight of Wilkinson's mimickry; and that
I think the tragedy of Cleone, and the performance of it,
are both highly deserving of the public favour. I am,
Sir, your humble servant,

ATTICUS .

APPENDIX B

LIST OF ALL THEATRE PAPERS AND INTRODUCTORY LETTERS
APPEARING IN THE 1757-58 LONDON CHRONICLE
FIRST SERIES
January 18—20, 1757, letter signed "Tragicomicus."

January 20-22, 1757, The Theatre, No. l.

 

January 22-25, 1757, The Theatre, No. 2.

 

January 25-27, 1757, The Theatre, No. 3.

 

January 27-29, 1757, The Theatre, No. 4.

 

Jan. 29—Feb. l, 1757, The Theatre, No. 5.

 

February 1-3, 1757, The Theatre, No. 6.

 

February 3-5, 1757, The Theatre, No. 7.

 

February 5-8, 1757, The Theatre, No. 8.

 

February 8-10, 1757, The Theatre, No. 9.

February 10-12, 1757, The Theatre, No. 10.

 

February 12-15, 1757, The Theatre, No. 11.

 

February 15-17, 1757, The Theatre, No. 12.

 

February 17-19, 1757, The Theatre, No. 13.

 

February l9-22, 1757, The Theatre, No. 14.

 

February 22-24, 1757, The Theatre, No. 15.

 

February 24-26, 1757, The Theatre, No. 16.

 

Feb. 26-March l, 1757, The Theatre, No. 17.

 

360

March
March
March
March
March
March
March
March
March
March
March
March
March
March
April
April
April
April
April

April

361

 

3-5, 1757, The Theatre, No. 19.

 

 

 

10-12, 1757, The Theatre, No. 22.

 

12-15, 1757, The Theatre, No. 23.

 

 

17-19, 1757, The Theatre, No. 25.

 

19-22, 1757, The Theatre, No. 24.

 

 

24-26, 1757, The Theatre, No. 26.

 

26-29, 1757, The Theatre, No. 27.

 

29-31, 1757, The Theatre, No. 28.

 

31-April 2, 1757, The Theatre, No. 29.

 

2-5, 1757, The Theatre, No. 30.

 

 

 

9-12, 1757, The Theatre, No. 32.

 

 

14-16, 1757, The Theatre, No. 34.

 

SECOND SERIES

November 26-29, 1757, letter signed "Th. C."

NOV 0

December 3-6,
December 6-8, 1757, The Theatre, No.

December 8-10,

1, 1757, The Theatre, No. l.

 

1757, The Theatre, No. l.

 

2.

 

1757, The Theatre, No. 3,
signed "Philomuse."

 

October
October
October
October
October

October

November

November
November
November

November

December
December
December

December

362

THIRD SERIES

3-5, 1758' The Theatre, NO. I.

 

5-7, 1758, The Theatre, No. II.

 

7-10' 1758’ The Theatre, N00 III.

 

12-14, 1758, The Theatre, No. IV.

 

14-17, 1758, The Theatre, No. 5.

 

19—21, 1758, The Theatre, No. 6.

 

FOURTH SERIES

7-9, 1758' letter Signed "No So," and
The Theatre, No. 7.

 

9-11, 1758, The Theatre, No. 8.

 

11-14, 1758, The Theatre, No. 9.

 

14-16, 1758, The Theatre, No. 10.

 

18-21, 1758, letter signed "Atticus,"
and The Theatre, No. 11.

 

FIFTH SERIES

2-5, 1758, The Theatre, signed "Atticus."

 

7-9, 1758, The Theatre.

 

9-12, 1758, The Theatre.

 

19-21, 1758, The Theatre.

 

LIST OF WORKS CITED

LIST OF WORKS CITED

Abrahams, M. H. The Mirror and the Lamp. New York,
1953.

Alssid, Michael W. Thomas Shadwell. New York, 1967.

 

Annales Dramatiques, ou Dictionnaire Général des Theatres.
9 vols. Paris, 1808-12.

 

Appleton, William W. Beaumont and Fletcher. London,
1956.

 

Ashley, Leonard R. Colley Cibber. New York, 1965.

 

Atkins, J. W. H. English Literary;Criticismi 17th and
18th Centufies. London, 1951.

 

 

Baker, D. E. rev. Stephen Jones. Biographia Dramatica,
gr, A Companion to the Playhouse. 3 voIs.
London,’1812.

 

Baker, H. Barton. English Actors. 2 vols. New York,
1879.

 

Bate, Walter Jackson. From Classic to Romantic. Cam-
bridge, Mass., I946.

 

Bengesco, Georges. Bibliographie des Oeuvres de Voltaire.
5 vols. Paris, 1890.

 

Bernbaum, Ernest. The Drama of Sensibility. Cambridge,
Mass., 1925.

 

Borgman, Albert. Thomas Shadwell, His Life and Comedies.
New York, 1928.

Bosker, A. Literarygriticism in the Age of Johnson.
The Hague, 1930.

Boswell, James. Life of Samuel Johnson, ed. G. B. Hill,
rev. L. F. Powell. 6 vols. Oxford, 1934-50.

 

363

364

. The Private Papers of James Boswell, ed. Geoffrey
Scott and Frederick Pottle. 18 voIs. Privately
Printed, 1928- 34.

Botting, Roland B. "The Textual History of Murphy's
Gray' s- Inn Journal," Research Studies of the
State College of Washington, XXV (1957), 33-48.

 

Bowyer, John Wilson. The Celebrated Mrs. Centlivre.
Durham, 1952.

Brett, R. L. The Third Earl of Shaftesbury. London,
1951.

Brewster, Dorothy. Aaron Hill. New York, 1913.

 

Caskey, J. Homer. "Arthur Murphy and the War on Senti-
mental Comedy, JEGP, XXX (1931), 563-577.

"Arthur Murphy's Common-Place Book," SP,
XXXVII (1940), 598-609.

Chetwood, William Rufus. A General History of the Stag__
from Its Origin in Greece down to the Present
TIme. London, 1749.

. The British Theatre. Dublin, 1750.

Cibber, Colley. An Apology for the Life of Colley Cibber,
ed. B. R. S. Fone. Ann Arbor, 1968.

. The Dramatic Works of Colley Cibber. 5 vols.
London, 1777.

Cibber, Theophilus, et al. The Lives of the Poets of
ggeat- Britain and Ireland. 5 vols. London,
53

Clifford, James L. Hester Lynch Piozzi (Mrs. Thrale).
Oxford, 1941.

Congreve, William. The Complete Plgys of William Con-
greve, ed. Her ert Davis. Chicago, 1967.

Crane, R. S. "English Neoclassical Criticism: An Out-
line Sketch," in Critics and Criticism, ed. R. S.
Crane. Chicago, I952. Pp. 372-388.

 

Critical Review, The. Vols. I-VIII. 1756-1759.

 

365

Dictionary_of National Biography, ed. Leslie Stephen,
et a1. 63 vols. London, 1885-1900.

 

Downer, Alan S. "Nature to Advantage Dressed: Eighteenth
Century Acting," in Restoration Drama, ed. John
Loftis. New York, 1966. Pp. 328-371.

 

Draper, John W. "The Theory of the Comic in Eighteenth-
Century England," JEGP, XXXVII (1938), 207-223.

Dryden, John. Essays of John Dryden, ed. W. P. Ker. 2
vols. Oxford, 1900.

 

Dunbar, Howard Hunter. The Dramatic Career of Arthur
Murphy. New York) 1946.

 

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