"The Thêatre Français in the Reign of Louis XV." By Alexander Baillie Cochrane, M.P. (Hurst and Blackett.) Mr. Cochrane wishes, like all men interested in the drama, to raise the histrionic art in this country to the position it might worthily occupy. In itself the vocation of the actor is as legitimate as that of the sculptor or musician; but in England, as elsewhere, it has too often been associated with what is morally objectionable. There is nothing, for example, in English literature more opposed to what is honest and of good report than the drama of the Restoration; and Charles Lamb's defence of our seventeenth-century dramatists is more ingenious than satisfactory. The horror expressed for the stage by men like Jeremy Collier was not without warrant; and at a later period the conduct of many popular actresses led some moralists to think that on the stage contamination was inevitable. Better days have followed, and actors and actresses of the highest character have given dignity to their profession. Nevertheless, the stage as a school of art has not taken the place to which it is entitled. Mr. Cochrane's object in this volume is to advocate State support to the stage. "When we see," he writes, "the important position of the Thêatre Français, and the great influence which it exercises, we may fairly consider whether, if our Government gave State aid to our theatre on condition of its maintaining the highest standard of dramatic art and of conduct and management, it might not lead to the general elevation of the drama throughout the country, thus rendering it an important agent in the education of the people." This, then, is the "important social question" to which Mr. Cochrane wishes to call attention; but the reader will be surprised, and probably amused, to find that he has done this by relating in a romantic style the career of a certain Sophie Guérin, who, are according to the writer, began life as a flower girl, became so distinguished on the stage as to receive marks of Royal approval, and was as much distinguished for elevation and purity of character as for genius and beauty. Mr. Cochrane possesses some notes relating to the history of the Thêatre Français; and and with the help of these he has formed a story which evidently contains far more of fiction than of fact. Although carelessly written it is amusing, but the pertinence of the tale is not particularly obvious.

IN a short review which appeared in the Pall Mall Gazette of the 17th of February last, I came across the following passage:— "In itself the vocation of the actor is as legitimate as that of the sculptor or musician; but in England, as elsewhere, it has too often been associated with what is morally objectionable. There is nothing, for example, in English literature more opposed to what is honest and of good report than the drama of the Restoration. . . . . The horror expressed for the stage by men like Jeremy Collier was not without warrant; and at a later period the conduct of many popular actresses led some moralists to think that on the stage contamination was inevitable." Here was the old cant about the stage cropping up again, stated in very moderate and thoroughly "respectable" language. "Better days have followed," adds the writer; nor is there reason to believe that he is one of the pharisaical denouncers of the morality of theatres. Still the sight of these familiar arguments in a contemporary journal, not hitherto suspected of any Methodistical tendency, set me thinking whether this oft-repeated complaint of the corrupting tendency of the stage is just or unjust. The conclusion to which I have come is one that has often occurred to me before, when reading some of those pious denunciations of theatres with which the mountebanks of the pulpit, from time to time favour us; and it is that Society, especially fashionable Society, has again and again tried its utmost to corrupt the stage, but that in the worst times it has only imperfectly succeeded.

       Let us go back to the earliest times of the drama. Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides cannot be accused of anything approaching to immorality. They did nothing to degrade, but a great deal to elevate, the moral tone of their audiences. Aristophanes was coarse, and called the public bad names; but he did his best to rouse them by the vigour of his satire into some show of patriotism. Of Menander and the Greek writers of comedy we know little, save through their Latin imitators. Plautus and Terence wrote with considerable freedom, but the morality of their comedies was far above that of the society of their day. The testimony of St. Augustine, in his "Confessions," goes far to prove that, even in his time, the corruption of society forced itself upon the stage, and not that of the stage on society. What he says as to the prejudicial effect of spurious emotions would apply to reading epic poems, quite as forcibly as to witnessing dramatic representations. The early Italian dramatists of the sixteenth century can be accused of nothing more culpable than a tendency to dulness; their anxiety to avoid any imputation of immorality may be seen in the curious declarations which are often found prefixed to their plays.

       We now come to the Elizabethan drama. Many detached passages could be produced from the works of Marlowe, Jonson, Beaumont and Fletcher, Webster, Marston, Ford, Massinger, and even from Shakspere, to prove that the writers were often guilty of immodesty; but, with the exception of Ford, I do not think any of their plays could be accused of an immoral tendency. They do not teach that right is wrong, or wrong right; they do not seek to corrupt mankind either by undermining their religious belief, or by weakening the ties of family affection, or by bringing the laws of social morality into contempt. A curious circumstance is to be noted in connexion with the morality of the dramatists of that age. Those most closely connected with the theatre, either as actors or managers, seem to have been most anxious to protest against any attempt to turn the drama into a vehicle for pandering to impurity. The most indecent plays are, as a rule, those which were written by outsiders, so to speak, — by aristocratic intruders into the republic of letters. I was astonished to find that the indecent passages in the play scene of Hamlet are omitted in the earlier quarto (1603) — which bears every sign of being a rude acting-edition of the play — as well as in the version used by Betterton. The "sallets," or "spicy," portions of Shakspere's dialogues were, I firmly believe, inserted to please the taste of the more fashionable portion of his audience or of his readers, and were generally omitted by the actors themselves. Neither the drama nor its surroundings in Shakspere's time can be fairly charged with any corrupting tendency; on the contrary, the morality inculcated on the stage was quite as high, if not higher, than that preached from the pulpit by a time-serving clergy, or practised by their devout congregations.

       I come now to the comedy of the Restoration, for the morality of which little can be said, inasmuch as its tendency, broadly speaking, either when read and acted, must be to corrupt the mind. Yet in these plays there are tributes to virtue which show that the writers would not, or dared not, set all moral laws at defiance. Surely, it is scarcely true that "there is nothing in English literature more opposed to what is honest and of good report" than the drama of the Restoration. Some, at least, of the poetry of that period was far more immoral. Rochester, Carew, and others who might be mentioned, did more to pollute the minds of youth than did Wycherley and Congreve. To come to later times, and to omit all mention of those atheistical works which have deformed so many moral natures by destroying the very source of all the highest and purest emotions of humanity, is not such a book as Ferdinand Count Fathom more pernicious than any play? What shall we say of the rabid blasphemies which Shelley, to the grief of all his admirers, published; or of the scoffing libertinism of Don Juan? What, to come to our own times, of those mixtures of æsthetic gibberish and flatulent infidelity, flavoured with the worst, because the most unmanly, indecency which, in the form of poetry or prose, have adorned the literature of recent years? Surely the influence of such works as these is more opposed to "all that is honest and of good report" than anything that the English stage has ever produced.

       But let us look at the history of this comedy of the Restoration. Who were the authors of it? Wycherley was a man of fashion; Congreve a fine gentleman; Vanbrugh an aristocratic architect. Very different men these from Shakspere or Ben Jonson. Farqubar, who is improperly classed among the dramatists of the Restoration, — seeing that his first play was produced ten years after the accession of King William III., — was, unlike his three predecessors, a thorough Bohemian, and had been an actor. His comedies are less witty and indecent, but more genial and humorous than theirs; and to him belong the honour of being the first to attempt the re-introduction of a sound moral tone into a comedy. How was the attempt received by his fashionable patrons? They resented the liberty, and did all they could to damn his Inconstant because it was "a moral play." Jeremy Collier would have done far better to have castigated the audience who came to see Wycherley and Congreve's plays than the actor or the authors of them.

       The licentiousness of society, not the corrupting influence of the drama, was clearly responsible for the libertinism of these comedies. What was it which rendered such licentiousness so brazen-faced and so general? The influence of players, of actresses, of' dramatic authors, of the evil surroundings of the stage? Nothing of the sort: the profligacy of Charles II. and of his Court was the direct result of reaction, as natural as any ordinary function of human nature, from the monstrous hypocrisy of Puritanism, with its soul-destroying persecution of all innocent mirth and wholesome amusements; its hideous parody of piety; its cruel persistence in attempting to deform the mind and heart of youth from a storehouse of happiness and a well-spring of benevolence into a dungeon of melancholy and a Dead-Sea of bitterness.

       "The conduct of many popular actresses at a later period" doubtless was very reprehensible. I suppose the writer refers to the latter half of the eighteenth century. But was the conduct of the actresses, as a whole, worse than the conduct of the ladies of society? With whom was it that they formed liaisons, — with the actors, or with the ornaments and leaders of society? If the confessions of George Anne Bellamy were shameless, what shall we say of those of Constantia Phillips? The latter lady was not in any way connected with the stage, but she will certainly bear away the palm for a "pretty style of confession" from her dramatic rival. Constantia, by the way, was first corrupted by the worthy son of Lord Chesterfield, the very youth to whom those beautiful compendia of morality, the celebrated Letters, were addressed. At the time when the profligacy of some of the actresses gained for the stage so unenviable a reputation what was the state of things behind the scenes? The most fashionable men of the day sat in rows, two or three deep, on the stage, and went in and out of the Green-room and of the dressing-rooms like tame cats. What a nuisance they must have been! They employed the opportunities thus offered them of association with the actresses in corrupting as many as they could. Anybody who has read the curious social memoirs of the latter half of the last century will remember the scandalous state of things which existed behind the scenes. Who first put &n end to this scandal? No dignitary of the Court, no virtuous member of fashionable society, no fearless preacher; but an actor, David Garrick; and a great deal of difficulty he had in effecting such an excellent reform. We owe to another actor-manager in later times an equally great moral reform, effected this time amongst the audience in front of the curtain. The boxes and corridors of our principal theatres were once very much what the galleries of the Argyll Rooms used to be. It was an actor-manager^* at Drury Lane who first, if I am not mistaken, set the example of purifying those portions of the house of their objectionable frequenters. Thus much in answer to those who denounce the stage of the past as a corruptor of morals; with the stage of the present time I hope to deal in a subsequent article.

* This article was reprinted four months later in The Musical world, Vol. 57, no 28 (1879-jul-12) p439, in the course of which the editors suggested that the actor-manager to whom Marshall was referring was "Macready."

IN an article under the above heading in the March number of The Theatre, I endeavoured to show that to "denounce the stage of the past as a corruptor of morals" was to bring a false accusation utterly unfounded on facts; and I now propose to show that it is equally false if brought against the stage of the present. In March, 1876, Cardinal Manning made a speech, in the course of which he said, "Theatres are centres of corruption"; afterwards, in defending this wholesale denunciation, he wrote, "The most corrupt part of Paris is the quarter of the theatres. The neighbourhoods of Covent Garden and Drury Lane and the Haymarket are well known in London. It is so in every Continental city; it is so also in every part of London where the lesser theatres, down to the penny theatres, exist."

       The Cardinal Archbishop of Westminster is known to all his co-religionists as one of the kindest-hearted and most charitable of men. He is known to Protestants as an enthusiast in the cause of total abstinence, and as an earnest and unwearying advocate of every scheme which has for its object the benefit of the poor. Many instances could be mentioned of his patient sympathy, and large-hearted charity, towards individuals who had little right to expect either at the hands of any man. I am sure that any Catholic, employed in theatres, would be treated by the Cardinal with the same gentle kindness that he shows towards every member of his flock who is brought into contact with him. Yet such is the prejudice against the stage, which is infused into the minds of some by their education — a prejudice strong in proportion to their ignorance of theatres and all matters connected with them — that we find an ecclesiastic of great intellectual attainments, and of the most unbounded charity, denouncing an entire profession with an injustice from which, could he but recognise it as such, he would be the first to shrink. Let us examine, then, the truth of this indictment against theatres. They are "the centres of corruption;" wherever a theatre is found there is found an immoral neighbourhood; therefore the immorality of the neighbourhood is owing, more or less, to the theatre.

       This is a fair way of stating the proposition: let us look at the facts. Theatres are established, as a rule, in the most populous thoroughfares of great cities; these populous thoroughfares are more or less the scenes of immorality. Are theatres to be held responsible for this more than any other buildings in the vicinity? If they are, then we shall expect to find that the more theatres there are the more immoral will be the neighbourhood. Now what are the real facts of the case? Let us admit that the neighbourhoods of the Haymarket, of Drury Lane, and of Covent Garden were, and are, more or less remarkable for immorality. The Haymarket has long been a disgrace to any Christian city; but the wretched women who ply their trade in that neighbourhood come from every quarter of the town; and I question whether one in a hundred of them, or of their patrons, can be connected in any way, directly or indirectly, with the theatre. The visitors to the three theatres in that neighbourhood generally hurry away from the spot as soon as the entertainment is over; and very few, if any, among the spectators or actors in the disgraceful scenes, which may be witnessed every night in that part of the town, are furnished by the audiences of the theatres. Were any honest attempt made by the Government to do away with the abominable scandal which infests this quarter, they would find no more earnest allies than the managers of theatres. The new theatre which has been built in this neighbourhood, the Criterion, with the buildings attached to it, occupies the site of one of the vilest so-called "Saloons" that ever existed in London; and, bad as the condition of this part of Piccadilly is at certain hours of the night, I do not scruple to say that the presence of a theatre has exercised a beneficial influence, and but for that influence the state of things would be much worse than it is.

       It is the interest of the proprietors and managers of theatres, to put it on the lowest grounds, that both inside and outside the building, decency and morality should be maintained. Nothing injures a theatre more, as a commercial enterprise, than the congregation of immoral characters round its doors or in its lobbies; as by such an abuse the decent and respectable persons, upon whose support the undertaking depends for its success, are kept from coming there. However bad the neighbourhood in which a theatre may be situated, it will invariably be found to be the best conducted place of amusement in that quarter.

       But now let us take the instance of a neighbourhood in which for along time there was only one theatre, whereas now there are three almost next door to one another. Wych-street and Holywell-street contained, within my memory, the most filthy dens of vice to be found in London. The Olympic was then the only theatre in that neighbourhood, and the proprietors did their best to purge the neighbourhood; the law was at last roused into action, but no real improvement took place till the sites were acquired for the erection of the Globe and Opera Comique Theatres; since these two theatres have been in existence, the character of the houses around has been entirely changed, and though I do not claim for the theatres the whole credit of the improvement, I do say that they have materially aided it. But long before even the Olympic Theatre was built, when Drury Lane was the only theatre in the neighbourhood, the spires of two churches overshadowed this nest of vice; what would be said of any one who argued from the then surroundings of St. Clement's and St. Mary's in the Strand that churches were necessarily "centres of corruption"?

       To take the case of Continental cities next; let Paris serve as an example. If I wanted to find the most immoral neighbourhood of Paris I think I should look for it in Belleville, and not in the Boulevards, where most of the theatres are and most of the hotels in which foreign visitors to Paris congregate. No doubt the Boulevards are frequented by a great many immoral persons; but I do not think the theatres are in any way responsible for this, any more than the beautiful church of the Madeleine is for the unedifying proceedings which go on under its very shadow.

       The fact of the case is that, look at it how we may, theatres cannot but exercise a good moral influence on the people in general. The publicity of the entertainment, the number and varied nature of the audience to which they appeal, the strict rules of order and decorum which the self-interest of both manager and spectators imposes, all tend towards the prevention of any immorality, unless the state of society, from its highest to its lowest point, is entirely corrupt. Whenever any one section of society becomes degraded by vice, it will be sure to endeavour to force its own degradation on the places of amusement it frequents. So, occasionally we may see a theatre devoted to a more or less immoral class of entertainment, but we shall always find that the demand created the supply, not the supply the demand. The manager is too often the complaisant servant of corruption, but very rarely indeed is he the active corruptor. As aids to temperance and sobriety, theatres are of no small importance; neither the habitual drunkard nor the victim of excess cares much for the theatre, he generally votes it slow and rather dry work.

       Nobody can be more alive than I am to the fact that many abuses exist on the stage in the present day; but I hold that for these abuses the stage, that is to say, the drama and those connected with it, are not primarily responsible. To do away with these abuses, which come from without and not from within, we must attack society, and not the stage. Authors, actors, actresses, and managers ought to combine together to maintain the honour and purity of the drama; the more thoroughly devoted they are to their art, the more dearly they prize their profession, the higher claims they put forward on its behalf, the better will they attain this end. If those connected with the stage will but resolutely refuse to assist in entertainments which must destroy their self-respect, they will find no one will dare to look down on them except those whose contempt is an honour. It will generally be found, I am glad to say, that those who have been born and bred in a theatre are the most jealous of the reputation of the stage; it will very rarely be found that a theatre under the management of an actor or actress, or of a dramatic author, has anything objectionable in its entertainments; the most degrading exhibitions are nearly always to be seen in those places of entertainment on the management of which the most frivolous section of fashionable society has the greatest influence.

(THE END)