The satirical verses which this lady performance called forth appeared in the Bath Journal (Nov. 17, 1774), entitled 'On the Ladies at the Close of Salisbury, now acting Elvira;' and Mrs. Harris opines that 'they were sent from some vinegar merchant in Salisbury who could not get admitted to the performance. The verses are as follows:—
'In good Queen Elizabeth's reign,
In a decent and virtuous age,
That they ne'er might give modesty pain,
No female appeared on the stage.
But lo, what a change time affords!
The ladies, 'mong many strange things,
Call for helmets, for breeches and swords,
And act Senators, Hervos, and Kings.'
If the anonymous 'vinegar merchant' could have been transported into the present time, how much more would he have been shocked by the 'change which time affords!' Could he now take a trip to London (so serious a matter a century ago, but made so quickly and cheaply now by means of a return ticket by rail), what would he think of the state of matters in our theatres? It was only in private theatricals that ladies donned the male costume a century ago, and they were always draped with the strictest propriety. But what do we see in London theatres now? Not only in the so-called 'burlesques' does the main 'fun,' such as it is, consist in the transposition of the sexes—men taking female characters, and women the part of males—but the costumes of the female performers, rich and picturesque as they usually are, are devised expressly to make a prodigal display of the person, a minimum of clothes apparently being the acme of perfection kept in view by the theatrical costumiers, and by the ladies themselves. The female figure is now so prodigally displayed that a handsome girl, especially if she has well-turned legs, is sought after on that account alone. 'My shape is my fortune, sir, she said!' would now be the burden of the song of these demi-nude demoiselles of the stage. To such a pitch has this new method of attracting audiences been carried, that this class of performances, or rather exhibitions, are now known in theatrical parlance as 'leg-pieces.' It is impossible not to see what a demoralising influence such performances must have upon the rising generation, indeed upon the whole audience. It is a lamentable sign of the times: it is a symptom of degeneration, of corruption, of a fatal laxity of manners. The relation between the sexes is becoming seriously deteriorated; and woman, instead of being peculiarly an object of respectful regard or chivalrous admiration, tends to become simply an object of pleasure, seeking to please at any cost. Most rightly did the Lord Chamberlain recently issue his fiat against the short skirts of the ballet-dancers: but the fiat has been vain, as all such injunctions in this 'free' country must be when public opinion refuses to support it, or at last allows itself to be overpowered by the crowd of playgoers who delight in such spectacles. A gangrene of selfish and demoralising pleasure is now eating into the heart of this country; and we fear the social malady will not be checked save by the advent of some terrible national calamity—let us hope not so terrible as that by which our neighbour France is now being purged as by fire.