[110] The licentiousness of the present age is a favourite topic with some of our popular writers; yet the drama is considered as the mirror of public manners; and the drama is rather more correct, and less indelicate, than it was in the year 1327, when, in a play of the Olde and Newe Testament, performed at Chester, the actors who played Adam and Eve, trying to represent these two characters to the life, came upon the stage quite naked! What modern manager could have dressed, or rather undressed, his performers with a stricter regard to propriety?

[111] That wild beasts were exhibited, is, however, certain from the following anecdote, which, not being noted by any of Dr. Johnson's biographers, may as well have a place here:—

When the Doctor first became acquainted with David Mallet, they once went with some other gentlemen to laugh away an hour at Southwark Fair. At one of the booths where wild beasts were exhibited to the wondering crowd, was a very large bear, which the showman assured them was "cotched in the undiscovered desarts of the remotest Russia." The bear was muzzled, and might therefore be approached with safety, but to all the company except Johnson was very surly and ill-tempered; of the philosopher he appeared extremely fond, rubbed against him, and displayed every mark of awkward partiality and subdued kindness. "How is it," said one of the company, "that this savage animal is so attached to Mr. Johnson?" "From a very natural cause," replied Mallet; "the bear is a Russian philosopher, and he knows that Linnæus would have placed him in the same class with the English moralist. They are two barbarous animals of one species."

The Doctor disliked Mallet for his tendency to infidelity, and this sarcasm turned that dislike into positive hatred. He never spoke to him afterwards, but has gibbeted him in his octavo Dictionary under the article alias.

[112] I cannot learn in what year the duration of this fair was shortened; but I should suppose from the following circumstance, very soon afterwards. This print was published in 1733, and on the 24th of June 1735 the Court of Aldermen came to a resolution touching Bartholomew Fair, "that the same shall not exceed Bartholomew eve, Bartholomew day, and the day after; and that during that time nothing but stalls and booths shall be erected for the sale of goods, wares, and merchandizes, and no acting be permitted."

[113] A Mr. Banckes, who a few years afterwards published some rhymes on this print, asserts, "that the performance at the booth, on the sign of which is written, The Fall of Bajazet, is the droll of Fair Rosamond." From the dresses, etc., I should imagine this ingenious gentleman is wrong. He also observes, "that young Louis XV., King of France, his queen, children, prime minister, etc., were this year exhibited in Smithfield and the Borough at very reasonable prices, to spectators of all degrees." Our artist, however, had forgot himself in regard to the matter of which these great personages were made, the whole town having been informed by their master of the ceremonies that they were of a composition far exceeding wax. The same writer goes on to inform us:

"There Yeates and Pinchbeck change the scene

To slight of hand, and clock machine;

First numerous eggs are laid, and then,

The pregnant bag brings forth a hen," etc.