Death is treated in too slight a manner; and sought, when disappointments occur, with a degree of impatience, which proves that the main end of life has not been considered. That fearful punishment of sin, and convulsion of nature, is too often exposed to public view. Until very lately I never had the courage even to look at a person dying on the stage. The hour of death is not the time for the display of passions; nor do I think it natural it should: the mind is then dreadfully disturbed, and the trifling sorrows of this world not thought of. The deaths on the stage, in spite of the boasted sensibility of the age, seem to have much the same effect on a polite audience, as the execution of malefactors has on the mob that follow them to Tyburn.
The worst species of immorality is inculcated, and life (which is to determine the fate of eternity) thrown away when a kingdom or mistress is lost. Patience and submission to the will of Heaven, and those virtues which render us useful to society, are not brought forward to view; nor can they occasion those surprising turns of fortune which most delight vulgar minds. The almost imperceptible progress of the passions, which Shakespeare has so finely delineated, are not sufficiently observed, though the start of the actor is applauded. Few tragedies, I think, will please a person of discernment, and their sensibility is sure to be hurt.
Young persons, who are happily situated, do well to enter into fictitious distress; and if they have any judicious person to direct their judgment, it may be improved while their hearts are melted. Yet I would not have them confine their compassion to the distresses occasioned by love; and perhaps their feelings might more profitably be roused, if they were to see sometimes the complicated, misery of sickness and poverty, and weep for the beggar instead of the king.
Comedy is not now so censurable as it was some years ago; and a chaste ear is not often shocked with indecencies. When follies are pointed out, and vanity ridiculed, it may be very improving; and perhaps the stage is the only place where ridicule is useful.
What I have said is certainly only applicable to those who go to see the play, and not to shew themselves and waste time. The most insignificant amusement will afford instruction to thinking minds, and the most rational will be lost on a vacant one.
Remarks on the actors are frequently very tiresome. It is a fashionable topic, and a thread-bare one; it requires great abilities, and a knowledge of nature, to be a competent judge; and those who do not enter into the spirit of the author, are not qualified to converse with confidence on the subject.
PUBLIC PLACES.
Under this head I rank all those places, which are open to an indiscriminate resort of company. There seems at present such a rage for pleasure, that when adversity does not call home the thoughts, the whole day is mostly spent in preparations and plans, or in actual dissipation. Solitude appears insupportable, and domestic comfort stupid. And though the amusements may not always be relished, the mind is so enervated it cannot exert itself to find out any other substitute. An immoderate fondness for dress is acquired, and many fashionable females spend half the night in going from one place to another to display their finery, repeat commonplace compliments, and raise envy in their acquaintance whom they endeavour to outshine. Women, who are engaged in those scenes, must spend more time in dress than they ought to do, and it will occupy their thoughts when they should be better employed.
In the fine Lady how few traits do we observe of those affections which dignify human nature! If she has any maternal tenderness, it is of a childish kind. We cannot be too careful not to verge on this character; though she lives many years she is still a child in understanding, and of so little use to society, that her death would scarcely be observed.
Dissipation leads to poverty, which cannot be patiently borne by those who have lived on the vain applause of others, on account of outward advantages; these were the things they imagined of most consequence, and of course they are tormented with false shame, when by a reverse of fortune they are deprived of them.