The Theater (1720).

by Sir John Falstaffe.

INTRODUCTION

_The Theatre_, by "Sir John Falstaffe", is according to its author a continuation of Richard Steele's periodical of the same name. Shortly after Steele brought his paper to a close on April 5, 1720, the anonymous author who called himself "Falstaffe" appropriated his t.i.tle; or if we prefer Falstaffe's own account of the matter, he was bequeathed the t.i.tle upon the decease of Steele's "Sir John Edgar". At any rate, the new series of _Theatres_ was begun on April 9, 1720, and continued to appear twice a week for eleven numbers until May 14. On Tuesdays and Sat.u.r.days Falstaffe entertained the town with a pleasant essay in the tradition established by _The Tatler_.

But the paper of April 9, the first of the new _Theatres_, was only nominally the first of a series; Falstaffe, who numbered the paper "sixteen", had already written fifteen papers called _The Anti-Theatre_ in answer to Steele's _Theatre_. The demise of Steele's periodical merely afforded him an opportunity of changing his t.i.tle; his naturally became inappropriate when Steele's paper was discontinued and the shorter t.i.tle was probably thought to be more attractive to readers. Falstaffe made no attempt to pa.s.s his papers off as the work of his famous rival, to gain popularity for them through the reputation of Steele. Indeed, the antagonism which existed between the two men would have made such an act of deception an unlikely one.

Steele's _The Theatre_, his last periodical, had been written for a controversial purpose; by his own admission he wrote it to arouse support for himself in a dispute in which he was engaged with the Lord Chamberlain, the Duke of Newcastle. Steele, who by the authority of a Royal Patent was governor of the Company of Comedians acting in Drury Lane, insisted that his authority in the theatre was not respected by the Lord Chamberlain, the officer of the Royal Household traditionally charged with supervision of theatrical matters. Newcastle intervened in the internal affairs of Drury Lane and, when Steele protested, expelled him from the theatre. Steele could do nothing but submit, though he retaliated with a series of bitter attacks on the Duke in _The Theatre_.

Newcastle found defenders, of whom one of the strongest was Falstaffe, who wrote in direct opposition to Steele's "Sir John Edgar", openly attempting to provoke that knight to a journalistic contest. But Edgar gave scant attention to his essays, though they were vigorously written and presented strong arguments in defense of the Lord Chamberlain's intervention in Drury Lane affairs. Steele acknowledged the first number of _The Anti-Theatre_ (it appeared on February 15, 1720) in the fourteenth number of his own paper, praising Falstaffe for his promise not to "intrude upon the private concerns of life" in the debate which was to follow, but thereafter he all but ignored his new rival. With the exception of a brief allusion in _The Theatre_, No. 17 (an allusion which Falstaffe was quick to take up), Steele made no more references to the other periodical. For a time Falstaffe continued to answer the arguments Steele advanced in protest against the Lord Chamberlain's action, but finding that he was unable to provoke a response, he gave up the debate. After his ninth number of March 14, he had little more to say about Steele or Drury Lane.

Falstaffe, however, did not stop writing when he ceased defending Newcastle's action. _The Anti-Theatre_ continued to come out twice a week until the fifteenth number appeared on Monday, April 4. And in that paper there was no indication that the periodical was to end or was to be changed in any way. But on the day after, April 5, Steele issued _The Theatre_, No.

28, signed with his own name, which he announced would be the last in the series. As no more _Anti-Theatres_ were known to have appeared after the fifteenth, it has generally been a.s.sumed (though as we now know, erroneously) that Falstaffe took his cue from Edgar and abandoned his own series.

But there has long been some reason to believe that Falstaffe did not cease writing completely after the fifteenth _Anti-Theatre_. Though nothing was known of his later work, a newspaper advertis.e.m.e.nt of his _The Theatre_ was noted. But lacking any more definite information, scholars have doubted the existence of the periodical. A volume in the Folger Shakespeare Library, however, removes the doubt. There, bound with a complete set of the original _Theatre_ by Sir John Edgar, are the ten numbers of the later _Theatre_ which are reproduced here. These papers include the entire run of Falstaffe's "continuation" with the exception of one number, the nineteenth, which has apparently been lost. So far as is known, the copies in the Folger are unique.

The continuation of _The Theatre_ bears little trace of the controversial bitterness present in Steele's paper of that name or in some of the early numbers of _The Anti-Theatre_. Except in the mock will in No. 16, there is no reference to Steele's dispute with Newcastle in the entire series. Nor, in spite of the t.i.tle, is there any discussion of theatrical matters. As a source of information about the stage, it is virtually without value. But if it be accepted as merely another of the gracefully written series of literary essays which were so abundant in the early eighteenth century, its value and charm are apparent. The unidentified author was an accomplished scholar, and he wrote on a variety of subjects which have not lost their appeal. The interest aroused by the essays is perhaps inseparable from our historical interest in the life and manners of the time, but it is none the less genuine. Perhaps nowhere more than in the personal essays about subjects of contemporary importance--of which these are examples--is there a more pleasing record of the social and intellectual life of a period.

Of the ten essays reproduced here, probably the first (No. 16) is the only one which contains allusions which will not be generally understood by scholars. In this paper, in the account of the death of Sir John Edgar and in the transcript of Edgar's will, there are references to Steele's dispute with Newcastle over the control of Drury Lane Theatre. Falstaffe facetiously recalls several points which were debated in the journalistic war provoked by Steele's loss of his governors.h.i.+p, but in themselves the points are of too little significance to merit explanation.

The several allusions to the South Sea Bubble in these essays will be easily recognized. In Nos. 21, 22, and 26, Falstaffe considers the absurdities engendered by the Bubble (as he had previously in _The Anti-Theatre_, Nos. 10, 11, 12, and 14), exhibiting a healthy distrust of the fever of stock-jobbing then at its height. Though less extreme than Steele in his criticism of the South Sea Company, Falstaffe shows himself to have understood several months in advance of the crash the fundamental unsoundness of the wave of speculation produced by the company's policies.

The essay on duelling (No. 17) was probably suggested to Falstaffe by a bill then pending in Parliament to make the practice unlawful. No other of his essays resembles more closely those of his predecessor, Steele, who during a lifetime of writing carried on a personal campaign to arouse opposition to duelling. In Steele's own _Theatre_, there are two essays devoted to the subject (Nos. 19 and 26).

One of the most interesting of Falstaffe's papers is his twenty-fourth: his discussion of the recently published memoirs of the deaf and dumb fortuneteller, Duncan Campbell, memoirs which we know to have been written by Daniel Defoe. And from Falstaffe's conspicuous reference to _Robinson Crusoe_ in the paper, it seems evident that he also knew the ident.i.ty of the author. What we have then is, in effect, a contemporary review of Defoe's book. Maintaining an air of seriousness, Falstaffe examines the extravagant a.s.sertions made so confidently by Defoe, ironically suggesting the implausibility and absurdity of some of them. Falstaffe's matter-of-fact comments are well adapted to exposing the incredibility of the similarly matter-of-fact narrative of Defoe.

Who Sir John Falstaffe was we do not know. No clue to his ident.i.ty has been discovered. But from the essays themselves we learn something of his tastes and predilections. A strong interest in cla.s.sical antiquity is apparent in numerous allusions to ancient history and mythology, allusions particularly plentiful in _The Anti-Theatre_; an intelligent reverence for the writings of Shakespeare may be observed in a series of admiring references; and from his repeated remarks about Spain and Spanish literature, both in _The Anti-Theatre_ and in _The Theatre_, we may probably conclude that he had some special knowledge of that country and its literature. But all of this can be but speculation. We know nothing positively about Falstaffe except that he wrote a series of engaging essays.

Falstaffe's _Theatre_ is reproduced, with permission, from the papers in the Folger Shakespeare Library.

John Loftis Princeton University

Numb. XVI

THE

THEATRE.

By Sir _JOHN FALSTAFFE_.

_To be Continued every_ Tuesday _and_ Sat.u.r.day.

Price Two-pence.

_I am Myself, but call me What you please._

South. in Oroon.

Sat.u.r.day, _April 9. 1720._

Men, that like myself, set up for being Wits, and dictating to the World in a censorial Way, should like Oracles endeavour to be barely heard, but never have it distinguish'd from whence the Voice comes. _Faith_ and _Reputation_ have ever been built on _Doubt_ and _Mystery_, and sometimes the Art of being _unintelligible_ does not a little advance the Credit of a Writer. There are many Reasons why we, who take upon Us the Task of Diurnal or Weekly Lucubrations, should be like the River _Nilus_, sending abroad fertile Streams to every Quarter, and still keeping our Heads undiscover'd.

But why should I be compell'd to give Reasons for every thing? _Were Reasons as plenty as Blackberries_, as my worthy Ancestor was wont to say, _I would not give a Reason upon Compulsion_.

I have confess'd to the World I am a _Knight_ (nor am I asham'd to own it, tho' 'tis a Condescension as Knighthood goes;) and my Name is _John Falstaffe_; must they have too a Tree of my Pedigree, and a Direction to my Lodgings? 'Tis ill-Manners to pluck the Masque off, when we would not be known: besides that, Curiosity has lost Men many a Blessing, and plung'd the Discoverers into signal Calamities; as witness _Oedipus_, and the Oracle, _Lot's_ Wife, _Orpheus_ and _Eurydice_, and several other _true_ and _ancient_ Histories, which I have something else to do than think of at present.

It was an Opinion growing apace in the Town, that Sir _John Edgar_ and I were one and the same Man: but from what Tract or Circ.u.mstance this Notion sprung, I can neither learn nor guess. I mounted the Stage as the Adversary, and he accepted my Challenge: upon which I attack'd him with such Weapons as Men of Learning commonly use against one another, yet he declin'd the Combat. I was by This in Generosity compell'd to desist from pursuing him, yet every now and then I took upon me to reprimand him, when I observ'd him too free in the Use of certain Figures in Rhetorick, which are the common Dialect of a Part of the Town famous for _good Fish_ and _Female Orators_. Thus he continued his Course of Writing, sometimes very obscure, sometimes too plain: according as either Vapours, or Spleen, or Love, or Resentment, or _French_ Wine predominated; which I, by my Skill in Natural Philosophy observing, thought it advisable to leave him to himself, till the Court of Chancery should appoint him a proper Guardian. I cannot deny, but that we shook Hands behind the Curtain, and have been very good Friends for these eight Papers last, have been merry without any Gall, he regarding me as a Gentleman Philosopher, and I looking upon him as an inoffensive Humorist.

I confess that it contributes much to my Peace of Soul, that we were reconcil'd before his Departure from this Stage of Business and of Life.

The Reader will hereby understand that Sir _John_ is dead: It is for this Reason that I appear in his Dress, that I a.s.sume his _Habit de Guerre_, for Sir John chose me, from among all Men living, to be his sole Executor. The Printer had no _black Letter_ by him, otherwise this Paper (as in Decency it ought) should have appear'd in Mourning: however I shall use as much Ceremony as the Time will allow; and, as _Hob_ did in the Farce by the Man that hang'd himself, _I take up his Cloak, and am chief Mourner_.

We never can do the Memory of a Great Man more Justice, than by being particular in his Conduct and Behaviour at the Point of Death. Sir _John_, tho' a Wit, took no Pains to shew it at his latest Hour, that is, he did not dye like one of those _prophane_ Wits, who bid the Curtains be drawn, and said _the Farce of Life was ended_. This is making our Warfare too slight and ludicrous: He departed with more Grace, and, like the memorable Type of his Prudence, _Don Quixote de la Mancha_, where he perceiv'd his Sand was running out, he repented the Extravagance of his _Knight-Errantry_, and ingenuously confess'd his _Family Name_. He seem'd entirely dispos'd to dye in his Wits, and no doubt, did so: tho' by Intervals, 'tis thought he was a little delirious, talk'd of taking Coach to _Fishmongers_ Hall, broke into imperfect Sentences about _Annuities_ and _South-Sea_, and mutter'd something to himself of making Dividends of _Ten per Cent_ at least _six times a Year_.

If Sir _John_ appear'd by all the Actions of his Life a Friend to Mankind, he certainly did so in a great Measure at his Death, by the charitable Disposition of what he died possess'd. I have given an Abridgment of his Will, that the World may see he left his Legacies only where they were truly wanted: Neither Favour nor Prejudice had any Influence over him in his last Minutes, but he had nothing more at Heart than the Necessities of his Legatees.

'_In Nomini Domini_, Amen. I _John Edgar_, &c. _Knight_, being sound in Body, but imperfect of Mind and Memory, do make this my last Will, &c.

'_Item_, As to such personal Estate which I have the good Fortune to leave behind me, I give and dispose thereof, as follows: And, best, I give and bequeath all and singular my _Projects_ to the Society of _Stockjobbers_, Share and Share alike, because I am sure they will be never the better for them.

'_Item_, I give and bequeath all my Right, Property and Share in the _transparent Bee-hive_ to my indulgent Friend and Patron, his Grace the Duke of ----, because he has taken such a particular Fancy to it.

'_Item_, I give and bequeath the full _Profit_ of all those _Plays_ which I have _Intentions of writing_, if it shall happen that I live to the Poor of the Parish in which I shall dye: desiring it may be distributed by my Executor, and _not come into the Hands of the_ Church-wardens.

'_Item_, I give and bequeath my _Goosequilt_, with which I demolish'd _Dunkirk_, to such Person as shall appear most strenuous for the Delivery of _Port Mahon_ and _Gibraltar_ to the _Spaniards_.

'And as to such _Qualifications_ wherewith I am endow'd, which have always serv'd me in the Nature of _personal Estate_, I dispose thereof as follows; First, I give and bequeath my _Politicks_ to the Directors of the _Academy_ of _Musick_, my _Religion_ to the Bishop of B----, my _Eloquence_ to the most distrest Author in _Grubstreet_, who writes the _full Accounts_ of _Murthers & Rapes_, and _Fires_, and my _Obscurity_ to somebody that is inclin'd to turn _Casuist in Divinity_.

'_Item_, I give my _Beauty_ to Mr. _Dennis_, because he had a Mind to steal it from me while I was alive.

'_Item_, I give my _Wits_ to my Friends at _b.u.t.ton's_, my _Good Manners_ to the _Deputy Governors_ of _Drury Lane_ Theatre; and my _Charity_ to the _married_ and _unmarried Ladies_ of the said Theatre; and lest Disputes should arise about the Distribution thereof, it being too little for them All, my Desire is, that they be determin'd in their Shares by Lot.

'And I make and appoint Sir _John Falstaffe_, Knight, my full and whole Executor, and residuary Legatee, desiring him to continue my Paper of the _Theatre_, but after his own Stile and Method; and desiring likewise that the Sum of Forty s.h.i.+llings may be given to the Boys of the _Charity School_ of St. _Martin_ in the Fields, to write me an _Elegy_ any Time within _Eighteen_ Years after my Decease.'

He left several other Legacies to the Theatrical _Viceroys_, whose Interest he had always so much at Heart, such as, his _Humility_, his _Learning_ and _Judgment_ in _Dramatick Poetry_; but these being Things _which they always lived without_, and which we are a.s.sur'd, _they will never claim_, we thought it needless to insert them.

Printed for W. BOREHAM, at the _Angel_ in _Pater-Noster-Row_, where Advertis.e.m.e.nts and Letters from Correspondents are taken in.