II.
Dryden had died in 1700, and Congreve produced his last important play in that year. Wycherley, though still living, had long ceased to write, but Farquhar and Vanbrugh were busy about this time with their best work. Of other dramatists who were then writing there are none more important than Rowe, Dennis, Cibber, Gildon, D'Urfey, Mrs. Manley, and Mrs. Centlivre. The licentiousness of the Restoration plays had been fully equalled by the coarseness of many of those written under William III.; and at the end of the seventeenth century a determined protest had been made by men who realised the evil effect of what was acted for the amusement of the people. Jeremy Collier, a nonjuring clergyman, led the attack by publishing, in 1698, A Short View of the Profaneness and Immorality of the English Stage. Collier was intemperate, and there were numerous replies; but his main position was not shaken. In the meantime proclamations were issued against the acting of anything immoral or irreligious, and a Society for the Reformation of Manners was founded, which was soon followed by similar societies in various parts of the country.
In October, 1701, Steele, who says that he was "a great admirer" of Collier's work, arranged with Christopher Rich, of the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, for the production of his comedy, The Funeral, or Grief à-la-Mode, as soon as they could conveniently.[2] The play was acted shortly afterwards, and it was printed in December. In the prologue Steele said that he knew he had numerous friends present, and that they would show it, "and for the fellow-soldier save the poet." The very frankness of this half-serious appeal shows that the play did not need artificial support, and Cibber says that it met with "more than expected success." It is very sprightly, but Steele did not omit, by the legitimate use of satire, to attack the mockery of grief by his ridicule of the undertaker, and the mockery of justice in the person of Puzzle, the lawyer. As in all his writings, he shows, by the characters of Lady Sharlot and Lady Harriot, the respect he felt for true women. "He was," says Thackeray, in words which are certainly true of Steele's immediate predecessors, "the first of our writers who really seemed to admire and respect them." The contrast between virtue and vice, to the advantage of the former—an object which had not usually been aimed at by the preceding writers of comedies—was furnished by the character of Lady Brumpton, the widow, whose husband was not really dead. The description of her schemes, and her conversations with her woman Tattleaid and her lady friends, are admirable, and were not forgotten by Sheridan when writing the School for Scandal. Tattleaid says to the widow, "I warrant you, madam, I'll manage 'em all; and indeed, madam, the men are really very silly creatures, 'tis no such hard matter. They rulers! They governors! I warrant you, indeed!" Whereupon the widow observes, "Ay, Tattleaid, they imagine themselves mighty things, but government founded on force only is a brutal power. We rule them by their affections, which blinds them into belief that they rule us, or at least are in the government with us. But in this nation our power is absolute." The conversation in the last act, when the widow is preparing for the funeral, and Tattleaid has her mouth full of pins, is equally clever.
It would be difficult to find better comedy than the instructions of Sable, the undertaker, to his men: "Let's have no laughing, now, on any provocation [makes faces]. Look yonder, that hale, well-looking puppy! You ungrateful scoundrel, did not I pity you, take you out of a great man's service, and show you the pleasure of receiving wages? Did not I give you ten, then fifteen, now twenty shillings a week, to be sorrowful? and the more I give you, I think, the gladder you are." And again, "Look you, now, you are all upon the sneer; let me have none but downright stupid countenances.... Ye stupid rogues, whom I have picked out of all the rubbish of mankind, and fed for your eminent worthlessness, attend, and know that I speak you this moment stiff and immutable to all sense of noise, mirth, or laughter [makes mouths at them as they pass by him to bring them to a constant countenance]. So, they are pretty well—pretty well." Excellent, too, is the talk of the lawyer and his clerk: "I hope to see the day when the indenture shall be the exact measure of the land that passes by it; for 'tis a discouragement to the gown that every ignorant rogue of an heir should in a word or two understand his father's meaning, and hold ten acres of land by half an acre of parchment." There is an admirable dialogue about their lovers between Lady Sharlot and Lady Harriot, in the second act, and in the fourth act Steele's comrades would be delighted with the talk of the soldiers, one of whom had saved an officer's life, but had now been whipped from constable to constable all the way from Cornwall to London. "That's due by the courtesy of England to all that want in red coats; besides, there's an Act that makes us free of all Corporations, and that's the ceremony of it." When Tatter says, "In our last clothing in the regiment I served in afore, the colonel had one shirt afore, the agent one behind, and every captain of the regiment a button," Lord Hardy, smiling, replies, "Hush, you rogue, you talk mutiny," and his Lordship's man at once gives the soldier a blow on the head: "Ay, sirrah, what have you to do with more knowledge than that of your right hand from your left?" But later on Trim remarks that "after all, 'tis upon the neck of such scoundrels as these gentlemen that we great captains build our renown."
There are obvious weak points in the plot, notably the introduction of bigamy on Lady Brumpton's part, in order to remove the difficulty about the will made by Lord Brumpton in her favour. There was, of course, nothing to prevent the Earl executing a fresh will when he again came to life, after finding out his wife's true character. For the rest, we may refer to an interesting contemporary criticism in Charles Gildon's little book, A Comparison between the Two Stages, published in April, 1702, in the form of a dialogue between Ramble, Sullen, and Chagrin, a critic. When Ramble proposes to speak of The Funeral, Sullen says, "'Tis a dangerous matter to talk of this play; the Town has given it such applause, 'twill be an ungrateful undertaking to call their judgments in question." He agrees that it is diverting, and written with noble intentions. Ramble remarks, "I hear the gentleman is a fine companion, and passes for a wit of the first rank;" but Sullen and the Critic agree that The Funeral is not a just comedy, the principle being much amiss. They argue that Lord Brumpton could not, as was supposed, have lain dead in the house so long, and no one see him; while intrigues and amours were going on in the meantime in the house of death. It is farce, not comedy. Look at the manner of Lady Sharlot's escape in the coffin—a forced situation which was quite unnecessary. Is it likely that a man of Cabinet's wickedness would have been frightened into a confession by a ghost? The undertaker is not adequately punished; for he was paid anyhow. Nevertheless, the satire on some widows, and on undertakers, is happy. The Critic thinks the language "too concise and stiff" for comedy; see, for example, the scene between Lord Brumpton and Trusty in Act I., and that between Trusty and Cabinet in Act IV. There are difficult lines in the Preface, and long parentheses in the play. Ramble turns round and asks, "Did you ever read The Christian Hero?" The Critic says, "Yes; what do you mean by asking me?" Ramble replies, "Pray don't be angry. Is it not an extraordinary thing?" The answer is, "Look ye, Sir—to answer you dogmatically, and in a few words—No." Critic gives reasons: "Thus, then, briefly: 'Tis a chaos, 'tis a confusion of thoughts, rude and undigested; though he had the advice of an ingenious man to put it into method. 'Tis dated from the Tower-guard, as a present to his Colonel, that his Colonel might think him, even in time of duty, a very contemplative soldier, and, I suppose, by the roughness of the style, he writ it there, on the butt-end of a musket." Sullen replies, "Hush! no reproaches; the gentleman has done very well, and chose a worthy subject," and Ramble adds, "It bore two editions." The Critic rejoins, "It did not; it was but once printed, nor is all that impression sold; 'tis a trick of the booksellers to get it off."[3] Ramble, however, maintains his good opinion of the author. The discussion of The Funeral is then resumed; and Ramble suggests that, in the opening of Act III., Mademoiselle's "promises" is a mistake for "premises." The Critic objects, among other things, to the use of the word "bagatelle." And then Sullen turns to the merits of the play—the characters, the visiting scene, the incidents, all flowing naturally, and the moral, which is the true result of the piece. Ramble adds warm praises of the author—who is described as "indued with singular honesty, a noble disposition, and a conformity of good manners"—and his works, and the Critic hopes, if he will divert the town with another play, that it may be more "correct." The author does not want understanding.