Richard Steele / Edited, with an Introduction and Notes by G. A. Aitken

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THE FUNERAL: OR

GRIEF LA-MODE.

THE LYING LOVER: OR

THE LADIES' FRIENDSHIP.

THE TENDER HUSBAND: OR

THE ACCOMPLISHED FOOLS.

THE CONSCIOUS LOVERS.

THE SCHOOL OF ACTION. (A FRAGMENT).

THE GENTLEMAN. (A FRAGMENT.)

APPENDIX. [143] I. STEELE v. RICH. (Pages xxviii xxx.) PLAINTIFF'S BILL. [144]

NOTES.

CONTENTS


RICHARD STEELE.

I.

It is as an essayist rather than a dramatist that men now think of Steele; and this is rightly so, for his best work is to be found in the periodical papers which he edited. There is, however, in his plays the same wit and humour that is to be found in the Tatler and Spectator, and his four comedies occupy an important position in the history of the English drama.

In this Introduction it will be sufficient to give a brief sketch of Steele's life, with especial reference to his relations with the theatre, which were intimate and varied.[1]

Richard Steele was born in Dublin in 1672; his father was an attorney who married a widow named Elinor Symes, but both his parents died while he was a child, and Steele passed into the care of a kind uncle, Henry Gascoigne, private secretary to the Duke of Ormond, and by his influence was placed upon the foundation of the Charterhouse in 1684. Two years later Joseph Addison, who was only a few weeks younger than Steele, entered that famous school, and the two boys formed the closest of friendships. In 1689 Steele followed Addison to Oxford, entering at Christ Church; but in 1691 he was made a post-master of Merton College. He would have many introductions, for his uncle was well known at the University, and his friend Addison was a distinguished scholar at Magdalen. We are told that he wrote a comedy while at college, but burned it on being told by a friend that it was worthless. When he left Oxford he took with him the love of "the whole society."

Steele enlisted in 1694 as a private in the Duke of Ormond's regiment of Guards. Private soldiers in the Guards were often gentlemen's sons, and Steele was in reality a cadet, looking forward to the position of ensign. When Queen Mary died in the following year he published an anonymous poem, The Procession, the work of "a gentleman of the army," and dedicated it to Lord Cutts, Colonel of the Coldstream Guards. He was rewarded by being made a confidential agent to Lord Cutts, who also obtained for him an ensign's commission in his own regiment. By 1700 we find Steele referred to as "Captain Steele," and in friendly intercourse with Sir Charles Sedley, Vanbrugh, Garth, Congreve, and other wits. In that year, too, he fought a duel with a Captain Kelly, "one or two of his acquaintances having," as he says, "thought fit to misuse him, and try their valour upon him." The event made a serious impression upon Steele, who, much in advance of his age, never ceased to remonstrate in his after writings against the "barbarous custom of duelling."

The life of a soldier stationed at the Tower was certain to lead a young man of Steele's sociable, hearty nature, into excesses. It was, as he says, "a life exposed to much irregularity"; and as he often did things of which he repented, he wrote, for his own use, a little book called The Christian Hero; and finding that this secret admonition was too weak he published the volume in 1701, with his name on the title-page. It was "an argument proving that no principles but those of religion are sufficient to make a great man." A second edition was called for in three months, but the only effect of the publication in the regiment was "that from being reckoned no undelightful companion he was soon reckoned a disagreeable fellow." Under these circumstances he says he felt it to be "incumbent upon him to enliven his character, for which reason he wrote the comedy called The Funeral, in which (though full of incidents that move laughter) virtue and vice appear just as they ought to do. Nothing can make the town so fond of a man as a successful play." Let us look for a moment at the condition of the drama at the opening of the eighteenth century.

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.

III.

Steele says that The Funeral, "with some particulars enlarged upon to his advantage," had obtained for him the notice of the king, and that "his name, to be provided for, was in the last table-book ever worn by the glorious and immortal William the Third." He was, however, disappointed, for King William died in March, 1702. But about that time Steele was made a Captain of Foot in a new regiment whose Colonel was Lord Lucas, whom Steele had known at the Tower. Each officer raised a company, and Steele was sent to Landguard Fort, opposite Harwich, where he did everything in his power for the good of the men under him. At the end of the year, or at the beginning of 1703, he agreed to sell to Christopher Rich a comedy, which was nearly finished, called The Election of Gotham. Of that play nothing further is known; but Steele obtained £72 from Rich, to be repaid in March.[4] Rich said that Steele was in want of money and in danger of arrest, and it is a fact that the first of a long series of actions for debt had some time before been commenced against him. Steele, however, said that the money was paid to induce him to write more, and upon condition that he should bring his next play to Rich, whom he charged with oppression and extortion. We shall hear more of this quarrel.

Complaints against the immorality of the stage increased in number. In 1702 Queen Anne directed that certain actors at Lincoln's Inn Fields should be prosecuted, and they were found guilty of "uttering impious, lewd, and immoral expressions." Collier wrote A Dissuasive from the Play House, which was answered by Dennis, and the Lord Chamberlain ordered that all plays must be licensed by the Master of the Revels, who was not to pass anything not strictly agreeable to religion and good manners. At that time, it should be remembered, the play began about five, and ended at eight, "for the convenience of the Qualities resorting to the Park after." Such was the condition of affairs when Steele's second comedy, The Lying Lover, or the Ladies' Friendship, was produced, in December, 1703, to run for six nights.

In his Apology Steele afterwards wrote of the Lying Lover:—"Mr. Collier had, about the time wherein this was published, written against the immorality of the stage. I was (as far as I durst for fear of witty men, upon whom he had been too severe) a great admirer of his work, and took it into my head to write a comedy in the severity he required. In this play I make the spark or hero kill a man in his drink, and finding himself in prison the next morning, I give him the contrition which he ought to have on that occasion.... I can't tell, sir, what they would have me do to prove me a Churchman; but I think I have appeared one even in so trifling a thing as a comedy; and considering me as a comic poet, I have been a martyr and confessor for the Church; for this play was damned for its piety." In the Dedication of the play to the Duke of Ormond, he says, "The design of it is to banish out of conversation all entertainment which does not proceed from simplicity of mind, good nature, friendship, and honour;" and in the Preface he again refers to the manner in which the English stage had offended against the laws of morals and religion; "I thought, therefore, it would be an honest ambition to attempt a comedy which might be no improper entertainment in a Christian commonwealth." He admits that the anguish and sorrow in the prison scene "are, perhaps, an injury to the rules of comedy; but I am sure they are a justice to those of morality." It was to be hoped that wit would now recover from its apostacy, for the Queen had "taken the stage under her consideration."

The play was based upon Corneille's Le Menteur, but the latter and more serious portion is entirely Steele's. Alarcon, from whom Corneille borrowed, made his liar marry a girl he did not care for instead of the one he loved; Corneille made the liar's love change, so that his marriage met his wishes; while Steele represents Bookwit's inveterate love of romancing, generally in self-glorification, as leading to a duel with Penelope's lover, and to his own imprisonment in Newgate. This trouble teaches him the necessary lesson, and the hope is held out to him, at the end, of the hand of Penelope's friend, Victoria. "There is no gallantry in love but truth," are his last words.

There are many amusing passages in the Lying Lover, and young Bookwit is very entertaining in the earlier acts, especially in his boastful account to the ladies of his imaginary campaigns:—"There's an intimate of mine, a general officer, who has often said, 'Tom, if thou would'st but stick to any one application, thou might'st be anything.' 'Tis my misfortune, madam, to have a mind too extensive." In the second act there is a pleasant account of "the pretty merchants and their dealers" at the New Exchange, where Bookwit was bewildered by the darts and glances against which he was not impregnable; and in the third act, Penelope and Victoria, who are both fascinated by the young liar, be-patch and be-powder each other in the hope of making their rival ugly, while they profess—like their maids—to be on the closest terms of friendship. In the fourth act, after the duel, the constable remarks, "Sir, what were you running so fast for? There's a man killed in the garden, and you're a fine gentleman, and it must be you—for good honest people only beat one another." And there is an admirable scene in Newgate, where Bookwit is received with respect by highwaymen and others because he is supposed to have killed a man. An alchemist—"the ignorant will needs call it coining"—who is about to be hung, says, "Yet let me tell you, sir, because by secret sympathy I'm yours, I must acquaint you, if you can obtain the favour of an opportunity and a crucible, I can show projection—directly Sol, sir, Sol, sir, more bright than that high luminary the Latins called so—wealth shall be yours; we'll turn every bar about us into golden ingots.—Sir, can you lend me half-a-crown?"

It is only in the last act that art is sacrificed to the moral purpose that Steele had in his view. The ladies repent of their mutual plottings; and Bookwit, who believes that he has killed his opponent, looks forward to death, and makes many solemn speeches, printed in blank verse, which will to a great extent account for the failure of the piece. Bookwit's father is broken-hearted; and a friend heroically declares that it was he, and not Bookwit, who killed Lovemore; whereupon Lovemore says, "I can hold out no longer," and brings matters to a happy ending by explaining that he had in reality been only slightly wounded. Hazlitt's words respecting Steele's plays are truer of the Lying Lover than of the rest: "It is almost a misnomer to call them comedies; they are rather homilies in dialogues." But even in this piece there is, as we have seen, nothing that can properly be called homily except at the close. Ward has described the play more accurately, as "the first instance of sentimental comedy proper. It is attempted to produce an effect, not by making vice and folly ridiculous, but by moving compassion."

It was Steele, rather than young Bookwit, who says in the first scene, "I don't know how to express myself—but a woman, methinks, is a being between us and angels. She has something in her that at the same time gives awe and invitation; and I swear to you, I was never out in't yet, but I always judged of men as I observed they judged of women: there is nothing shows a man so much as the object of his affections."

IV.

The battle of Blenheim was won in August, 1704, and in December Addison obtained fame and office by his poem The Campaign. Steele, who was in constant intercourse with him, said in after years that Addison, in spite of his bashfulness and modesty, "was above all men in that talent we call humour." At the various coffee-houses, and especially at the Kitcat Club, the friends met all the famous wits of the day. Steele endeavoured, in 1704, without success, to increase his income by obtaining a troop in a regiment of Dragoons, which the Duke of Ormond was about to raise. Next year Lord Lucas died, and Steele's connection with the army appears to have been severed not long afterwards.

In March, 1705, Steele's third play, The Tender Husband; or, the Accomplished Fools, was given to Rich, and it was acted in April and published in May. The early writers on the subject constantly stated that The Tender Husband appeared in 1703, and was followed by The Lying Lover, and they then explained that the failure of the latter piece caused Steele to abandon play-writing for many years. In reality, however, The Lying Lover was the earlier play of the two by more than a year.[5]

The Tender Husband ran for five nights, but was not a financial success. Addison wrote the Prologue and assisted in the play itself, and to Addison it was dedicated, though, as Steele said, his friend would "be surprised, in the midst of a daily and familiar conversation, with an address which bears so distant an air as a public Dedication." "My purpose in this application is only to show the esteem I have for you, and that I look upon my intimacy with you as one of the most valuable enjoyments of my life." The reception given to the play was such "as to make me think it no improper Memorial of an inviolable friendship." In the last number of the original series of the Spectator, Steele afterwards wrote:—"I remember when I finished The Tender Husband, I told him there was nothing I so ardently wished as that we might sometime or other publish a work written by us both, which should bear the name of The Monument, in memory of our friendship. I heartily wish what I have done here were as honorary to that sacred name, as learning, wit, and humanity render those pieces which I have taught the reader how to distinguish for his. When the play above-mentioned was last acted, there were so many applauded strokes in it which I had from the same hand, that I thought very meanly of myself that I had never publicly acknowledged them."

Warned by the fate of The Lying Lover, Steele seems to have determined that there must be less sermonising in the new play. The result is that The Tender Husband is, as a whole, very amusing; but unfortunately a second plot—alluded to in the title—is woven into the story which gives to the play its interest; and as this account of the manner in which the "tender husband" tries the faithfulness of a foolish wife by means of his mistress, disguised as a man, is unwholesome in tone and unnatural, it spoils what would otherwise be an excellent farcical comedy, and at the same time has no real connection with the rest of the play. Fortunately, however, Mrs. Clerimont's weaknesses are hardly brought before the spectator except in the first scene and the last act. The rest of the piece describes the love affairs of Biddy Tipkin, a banker's niece—acted by the charming Mrs. Oldfield—whose head has been so completely filled with the romances which she has read that she begs to be called Parthenissa:—"If you ask my name, I must confess you put me upon revealing what I always keep as the greatest secret I have—for, would you believe it, they have called me—I don't know how to own it, but they have called me—Bridget." To her aunt she says, "Do you think that I can ever marry a man that's true and hearty? What a peasant-like amour do these coarse words impart?... Good madam, don't upbraid me with my mother Bridget, and an excellent housewife." She longs for a lover who will be associated with disguise, serenade, and adventure; and as she is an heiress, Captain Clerimont—the usual gentlemanly adventurer of seventeenth century comedy—is willing to humour her whims, and he is so successful that, though she is of opinion that "a lover should sigh in private, and languish whole years before he reveals his passion; he should retire into some solitary grove, and make the woods and wild beasts his confidants," yet she is soon able to admit "I am almost of opinion that had Oroondates been as pressing as Clerimont, Cassandra had been but a pocket-book: but it looks so ordinary to go out at a door to be married—indeed I ought to be taken out of a window, and run away with." Biddy Tipkin is the direct prototype of Sheridan's Lydia Languish, and Goldsmith was equally indebted to Biddy's cousin, Humphry Gubbin, for the idea of Tony Lumpkin. This booby son of an old-fashioned squire—the forerunner of Fielding's Squire Western—is as amusing as Biddy, whom his father wishes him to marry. Humphry, however, had scruples, and "boggled a little" at marrying so near a relation as a cousin. His father had been in the habit of beating him like a child, and it was not till he came to town that he knew he was of age, or what was his fortune. Mr. Pounce, a lawyer, anxious to secure Biddy for Captain Clerimont, advises Humphry not to be fooled any longer; and when Humphry remarks, "To tell you truly, I took an antipathy to my cousin ever since my father proposed her to me; and since everybody knows I came up to be married, I don't care to go down and look baulked," Pounce seizes the opportunity of providing for his sister Mrs. Fairlove, the mistress of the elder Clerimont. Biddy and Humphry having explained their feelings to each other, Humphry says, "I'll find out a way for us to get rid of one another, and deceive the old folks that would couple us;" but when Biddy replies, "This wears the face of an amour—there is something in that thought which makes thy presence less insupportable," he exclaims, "Nay, nay, now you're growing fond; if you come with these maids' tricks to say you hate at first and afterwards like me, you'll spoil the whole design."

Other characters, such as Biddy's "Urganda of an Aunt," who is not free from notions of romance on her own account, Pounce the disreputable lawyer, Sir Harry Gubbin, and Captain Clerimont, who obtains access to Biddy by disguising himself as a painter—an idea borrowed from MoliÈre's Le Sicilien—add to the amusement of the piece; and then there are smart sayings in abundance, such as the elder Clerimont's: "I don't design you to personate a real man, but only a pretty gentleman;" or Pounce's: "Oh, dear sir, a fine lady's clothes are not old by being worn, but by being seen." These merits render the weakness of the ending the more regrettable. The moral is obvious: wife or son should be restrained only by generous bonds, for "wives to obey must love, children revere." If any one, after reading the episode of the elder Clerimont and his wife, is surprised at Steele's statement that he had "been very careful[Pg xxviii] to avoid everything that might look ill-natured, immoral, or prejudicial to what the better part of mankind hold sacred and honourable," it should be remembered that in Steele's play a repentant wife is forgiven by her husband, whose own conduct was far from blameless, while in the comedies of his predecessors it was common for the wife to hoodwink her steadygoing husband triumphantly. Compared with such plays Steele's work is harmless, and even moral, in its intention.

It is impossible to say which were the "applauded strokes" contributed by Addison to The Tender Husband. Some writers, bearing in mind the Tory Foxhunter of the Freeholder, have attributed to Addison the character of Sir Harry Gubbin; others, remembering the description of a lady's library in the Spectator, have suggested that his hand is to be found in the description of Biddy Tipkin; and some, again, have thought that he was concerned rather in the serious portions of the play. Perhaps Addison's help consisted more in general hints given while the piece was under revision than in the contribution of any special portion. But speculation is vain in this matter. Addison and Steele were friends who were wont to work together without any jealous thought as to the exact share which each of them contributed.

It will be convenient to notice here a Chancery suit which arose out of Steele's arrangement with Christopher Rich, of the Drury Lane Theatre, respecting the production of his plays. Steele was the complainant, and in his bill, dated 1707, he said that about December, 1702, Rich paid him £72 on the understanding that Steele would write for him another play. Steele gave a bond of £144; and in 1705 furnished Rich with The Tender Husband, which was acted on the condition that the author was to have the profits of two days' acting in the autumn. The profits exceeded £72, but Rich would not pay over the balance, and commenced an action for the £144. Steele, therefore prayed that these proceedings might be stayed by injunction.

Rich, in his reply, said that the terms of the agreement for the production of The Funeral having been carried out to Steele's satisfaction, Steele agreed, in January, 1703, to give Rich a new play, and at the same time borrowed £72, to be repaid with interest in March, upon pain of the forfeiture of £144. Steele did not pay; but in 1705 he produced The Tender Husband. The profits, however, were so small that £10 8s. 2d. was all that, according to the agreement, Rich was called upon to pay as the result of the first four days' acting. Steele agreed that this sum should go to the use of the company, and that the play should be acted for his benefit once in the following winter. The performance took place in November, though Steele at the last objected that there would not be a sufficiently good audience. The treasurer was told to give Steele the balance £2 17s. 6d., which resulted from this performance, together with the £10 8s. 2d. already mentioned; but Steele neglected or refused to take the money. Rich added that the play had been acted several times at the Haymarket Theatre without his consent—which was quite true; and he prayed that this action might be dismissed, with costs.

There is no further record of the case until April 29, 1710, when Rich's counsel showed that his client had submitted an answer to the plaintiff's bill on January 27, 1708, and that Steele had since then taken no action. The Court thereupon ordered that the bill should be dismissed, with costs, which were to be taxed.[6] The pleadings, which contain much that is of interest to the student of theatrical history, are given in full in the Appendix.

V.

In the earlier part of 1705, probably soon after the production of The Tender Husband, Steele married a widow, Margaret Stretch, whose maiden name was Ford. This lady belonged to a good family in Barbados; and her brother, Major Robert Ford, who made his will in December, 1704, left to her the residue of his property. He was then about to sail for England, and within a few weeks he was taken prisoner by a French privateer, and died on the high seas. In March, 1705, his sister took out letters of administration, and soon afterwards she was married to Steele, who subsequently wrote to the mother of the lady who was to be his second wife: "My late wife had so extreme a value for me that she, by fine, conveyed to me her whole estate situate in Barbados, which, with the stock and slaves (proper security being given for the rent), is let at £850 per annum, at half yearly payments, that is to say, £425 each first of May, and £425 each first of December. This estate came to her encumbered with a debt of £3,000, by legacies and debts of her brother, whose executrix she was as well as heiress."

In January, 1707, we find Steele administering to the property of his wife, who had died in December. Mary Scurlock, of whom we shall hear immediately, was at the funeral. There is no source of information respecting the deceased lady, except the writings of the scandalous Mrs. Manley, who had quarrelled with Steele, but certainly knew something of the facts, if she chose to speak the truth. Her statement is that Steele had embarked in alchemy, and had been ruined by a rogue who cheated him, when he found an opportunity of repairing his fortunes by marrying a rich but elderly lady. Hints are thrown out that an odd misfortune, occasioned by Steele's sister, was the cause of his wife's death; and that he found consolation in "a younger wife, and a cry'd up beauty." It is true that Steele had a sister who was mad; but his second wife, who knew the facts, was willing to marry him in a few months, which she would hardly have done if there had been any suspicious circumstances connected with her friend's death. Possibly, however, the end was accelerated by some fright. There can be no doubt that Steele's sanguine nature had led him, at a period not exactly defined, to experiment with the crucible, in the hope of discovering the oft-sought-for aurum potabile. When he wrote the scene in the Lying Lover, in which Charcoal appears, he would seem to have discovered the absurdity of his study of occult science.

In a prologue to Vanbrugh's The Mistake, acted at the new theatre in the Haymarket on December 27, 1705, Steele satirised the popular demand for dresses, music, and dancing: "If 'tis a comedy, you ask—Who dance?" In August, 1706, he was appointed gentleman-writer to Prince George of Denmark, with a salary of £100 a year, "not subject to taxes." In the course of the following year he contributed verses to a new monthly paper called The Muses' Mercury, and the first number (January, 1707) contained a reference to Mrs. Steele:—"Had not[Pg xxxiii] the death of a dear friend hindered Captain Steele from finishing a comedy of his, it would also have been acted this season." We shall see that in the years that followed Steele often contemplated the production of another play, but was no doubt prevented by his numerous other occupations. He was appointed Gazetteer by Robert Harley, on Arthur Maynwaring's recommendation, in April or May, with a salary of £300, liable to a tax of £45, and he endeavoured to obey "the rule observed by all Ministries, to keep that paper very innocent and very insipid"; but, inevitably, there were often complaints either about what was inserted or what was omitted.

The Muses' Mercury for September contained the following paragraph:—"As for comedies, there's no great expectation of anything of that kind since Mr. Farquhar's death: the two gentlemen who could probably always succeed in the comic vein, Mr. Congreve and Captain Steele, having affairs of much greater importance to take up their time and thoughts." In that month Steele married Mary Scurlock, a lady of twenty-eight years of age, and heiress to the late Jonathan Scurlock, of Carmarthen, who was descended from an ancient Irish family. Her estate was worth £400 a year, but there was a demand upon it of £1,400. Mary Scurlock had, as we have seen, known her husband's first wife, but the courtship does not seem to have begun until August. The lady saved all Steele's letters, both then and during her married life. He begged that they might be shown to no man, as others could not judge of "so delicate a circumstance as the commerce between man and wife"; but half a century after his death the whole were published, and these letters form one of the most interesting studies in existence. The charming notes to "dear Prue"—often sent daily, and sometimes more frequently, from wherever he might happen to be engaged—show us the writer's inmost feelings, and in spite of his obvious weaknesses he comes well out of the ordeal. He loved his wife and children to the end, and if he was careless and constantly in debt, "Prue" was somewhat strait-laced and exacting. It should never be forgotten that we have but two or three of her replies. The letters written during the love-making are delightful, and Steele himself printed some of them in the Tatler and Spectator. The young lady was not without experience, for three years earlier a "wretched impudence," named Henry Owen, had brought an unsuccessful suit against her for breach of contract of marriage. That she was much in love with Steele is evident from a letter of hers to her mother, in which she praised his richly-endowed mind, his person, his temper, his understanding, and his morals. It was her "first and only inclination," and she was sure that she should "never meet with a prospect of happiness if this should vanish." Miss Scurlock, who had something of the prude in her, desired that the marriage should be secret, and would not have it known until her mother's consent had been received. Before the end of the year Steele had taken a house in Bury Street, which was conveniently near to St. James's church, whither his wife frequently resorted. Steele's own prayers, written before and after marriage for his private use, show the manly religion which was the foundation of his character.

Apologies for absence from home were soon necessitated by engagements of one kind or another. This was the kind of note which Steele often sent to his "absolute governess":—

"Devil Tavern, Temple Bar,
Jan. 3d. 1708.

"Dear Prue,

"I have partly succeeded in my business to-day, and enclose two guineas as an earnest of more. Dear Prue, I can't come home to dinner. I languish for your welfare, and will never be a moment careless more.

"Your faithful husband,

"R. Steele.

"Send me word you have received this."

The Barbados property, which was necessarily left to the care of an agent, gave much trouble, and it is clear that Steele's views as to the probable income to be derived from that and other sources was very rose-coloured. He was frequently embarrassed, but one debt usually arose from a habit of borrowing money to pay off another creditor, and the actual amount owing at any time seems never to have been very large. Mrs. Steele was not always on good terms with her mother, and on one occasion that lady proposed to settle a portion of her property on Steele and his wife jointly, and to make the whole estate liable to a charge in his favour in case he outlived his wife without issue. This Steele declined, begging that the whole of whatever was left to them might be fixed on his wife and her posterity.

VI.

Swift returned to England in November, 1707, and was soon in frequent intercourse with Steele and Addison. In March, 1708, he published his famous "Predictions for the year 1708, by Isaac Bickerstaff, Esq.," an attack on an astrologer and almanack-maker, John Partridge. In this pamphlet Swift declared that he, unlike others, was a real astrologer, and prophesied that Partridge would die on March 29. On the 30th of that month another pamphlet appeared, giving a circumstantial account of Partridge's death. The almanack-maker protested that he was as well as ever; but Swift replied that it was evident that the man was dead, because no man living[Pg xxxvii] could write such rubbish as was contained in the new almanack for 1709. Other wits joined in the controversy, and when Steele began The Tatler he adopted the name of "Isaac Bickerstaff," which, he said, Swift had made famous through all parts of Europe.

Steele obtained a house at Hampton Wick, and there his "dear ruler" was established in 1708, with a chariot and two or four horses, a saddle-horse, a footman, a gardener, a boy Will, her own woman, and a boy who could speak Welsh. "I shall make it the business of my life," wrote Steele, "to make you easy and happy: consult your cool thoughts and you'll know that 'tis the glory of a woman to be her husband's friend and companion, and not his sovereign director." In another letter he said, "It is not in your power to make me otherwise than your affectionate, faithful, and tender husband." With yet another note he sent "seven pen'orth of walnuts at five a penny, which is the greatest proof I can give you at present of my being, with my whole heart, yours," &c. Outside the letter he added, below the address, "There are but 29 walnuts." In October he lost a place through the death of Prince George, but the Queen gave him a pension of £100 a-year. Debts, however, were numerous, and an execution was put in on account of arrears of rent for the house in Bury Street. When Addison was made Secretary to Lord Wharton, the new Viceroy of[Pg xxxviii] Ireland, Steele hoped to get an Under-secretaryship, but was disappointed. In March, 1709, his eldest daughter, Elizabeth, was born, and had for godfathers Addison and Mr. Wortley Montagu. In the following month Steele began the great work of his life.

The periodical literature of the day was of little value. The few papers that existed were either brief news-sheets, or were repositories for questions and answers, supplied by the readers, and of feeble verse. The only periodical which was in any sense a forerunner of the Tatler was Defoe's Review, in which part of the space was set apart for "Advice from the Scandalous Club," where men, not parties, and things rather than persons, were censured. When the quantity of matter was too great for the available space, a monthly "Supplementary Journal" was published. Afterwards Defoe gave a friendly greeting to Steele's new work, which dealt with the social questions and follies of the day in a style that was more thorough, and at the same time more genial, than his own.

The first number of the Tatler was published on April 22, 1709, and it appeared three times a week. It was a single folio sheet, price one penny, and four numbers were given away gratuitously. The reader found there items of news, accounts of popular entertainments, poetry, and learning. As time went on the news articles were dropped, and each number was gradually confined to one subject. Isaac Bickerstaff was described as "an old man, a philosopher, a humourist, an astrologer, and a censor." The other characters described from time to time are not essential to the general plan of the paper. "The general purpose of the whole," as Steele wrote at the close, "has been to recommend truth, innocence, honour, and virtue, as the chief ornaments of life." He was satisfied if one vice had been destroyed, or a morning's cheerfulness given to an honest mind. As censor he thought fit to speak under a mask, because he knew that his own life was "at best but pardonable."

Addison rendered much valuable aid, which Steele acknowledged in such generous terms that some writers have represented that all that was valuable in the paper was by his friend. The fact, however, is that of the 271 numbers that appeared about 188 were by Steele, and only 42 by Addison, while 36 were written by them jointly. Steele started the paper, and Addison knew nothing of the authorship until six numbers had appeared, and did not render any material assistance during the early months of publication. The aid given by Swift and others is too slight to need mention. Steele had to write, whether he was prepared or not, whenever he had no paper by anyone else ready; but his most careless contributions are interesting, because he wrote from the heart, and was a man full of kindly impulse. It is sufficient to remark here that in the articles on public amusements he provided admirable criticisms, and was always ready to assist a good actor. Years afterwards Cibber wrote that during a season of depression excellent audiences had often been drawn together at a day's notice by the influence of a single Tatler. Steele was much in advance of his time in the way in which he quoted and appreciated Shakespeare and Milton. As Gay said, he rescued learning "out of the hands of pedants and fools, and discovered the true method of making it amiable and lovely to all mankind."

Steele's income was increased by £300 a year in January, 1710, when he was appointed a Commissioner of the Stamp Office. At that time there was great excitement about the pending trial of the Tory, Dr. Sacheverell, two of whose sermons were condemned as seditious libels, reflecting on the Queen, the Revolution, and the Protestant succession. Sacheverell was found guilty in March and forbidden to preach for three years, but the sentence was nominal, and the Tories were in reality triumphant. In June Sunderland, the Duke of Marlborough's son-in-law, was dismissed, and in August Godolphin was called upon to give up the seals, and Harley became Chancellor of the Exchequer, and practically head of the Government. Papers satirising Harley had appeared in the Tatler in July, and on September 10 Swift, who had just returned to England, wrote to Esther Johnson, "Steele will certainly lose his Gazetteer's place, all the world detesting his engaging in politics." A few days later Whig statesmen were turned out in favour of the Earl of Rochester, the Duke of Buckingham, and Henry St. John, and in October Steele was deprived of his place, or, as Swift afterwards stated, resigned to avoid being discarded.

The Tory Examiner had been established in August; in November Swift contributed his first paper. He still met Addison and Steele as friends, but not so often as formerly, and he says he intervened with Harley in favour of Steele's retention of his office of Commissioner. The Ministry were by no means desirous of quarrelling with a popular writer, and Steele kept this post until 1713. The Tatler came to a sudden end on January 2, 1711, perhaps as the result of a compact with the Government. Even Addison appears not to have been consulted when this step was taken.

VII.

It was commonly said that Steele had given up the Tatler through want of matter. How entirely erroneous this statement was is shown by the appearance, two months later (March 1, 1711), of the first number of the Spectator, which was issued daily until December 6, 1712. Addison commenced it with a description of the Spectator himself; in the second number Steele gave an account of the club where the plan of the work was supposed to be arranged, and drew the first sketch of its members—Sir Roger de Coverley, the country gentleman; Sir Andrew Freeport, the merchant; Captain Sentry, the soldier; Will Honeycomb, the fine gentleman about town; and the clergyman. The most important of the papers relating to Sir Roger de Coverley are by Addison, who was at his best in the Spectator, of which he wrote 274 numbers, while Steele was responsible for 236. The world, however, owes Addison to Steele, who rightly said, "I claim to myself the merit of having extorted excellent productions from a person of the greatest abilities, who would not have let them appear by any other means." Even Swift wrote that Steele seemed to have gathered new life, and to have a new fund of wit. Until the passing of the Stamp Act in August, 1712, when the price was necessarily raised, the circulation seems to have been nearly 4,000.

Among many other subjects Steele again wrote numerous excellent papers on the stage. There is the well-known account of Estcourt's death, and there are admirable criticisms. Of Etherege's popular play, Sir Foppling Flutter, he said that it was "a perfect contradiction to good manners, good sense, and common honesty"; and of Beaumont and Fletcher's Scornful Lady, that no beauty would atone for the meanness of giving "a scandalous representation of what is reputable among men, that is to say, what is sacred." Elsewhere he remarked that "it is not to be imagined what effect a well-regulated stage would have upon men's manners," and that it is in the people themselves "to raise this entertainment to the greatest height."

Swift was now quite estranged from Addison and Steele, though of course they were civil when they met. In June, 1711, Steele appears to have become acquainted with Pope, and Addison wrote a flattering notice of the young poet's Art of Criticism in the Spectator. Party pamphleteering was now being carried to a hitherto unprecedented extent, and Swift wrote constantly himself, and supplied hints to others. Marlborough was dismissed, and the object of the Government was to bring the war to an end by persuading the people to agree to a treaty whose terms were less satisfactory than might have been expected. At the same time some of the party were secretly plotting for the restoration of the Stuarts, and among these appears to to have been Harley, now Earl of Oxford. Steele wrote a pamphlet in praise of Marlborough, for whom he always showed great admiration.

A son, Eugene, was born in March, 1712; Steele was then living in Brownlow Street, Holborn. In June he had a cottage on Haverstock Hill, and there the members of the Kitcat Club called for him on their way to the Upper Flask at Hampstead, where they met in the summer. In July he had taken a house in Bloomsbury Square, and next month he felt relieved by the renewal of his employments, and lived "in the handsomest manner." But all the time actions for debt were hanging over him, and he had hastily to withdraw a scheme which was found to be illegal, for "getting money" by means of a "Multiplication Table," to be worked in connection with the State Lottery.

The Spectator was brought to a close in December, 1712, and in the following month George Berkeley, afterwards Bishop of Cloyne, but then a young man just arrived in London, wrote that Steele, who had been among the first to welcome him, was ill with gout, but was, "as I am informed, writing a play, since he gave over the Spectators." Steele was very hospitable to the young philosopher, and Berkeley remarks that there appeared "in his natural temper something very generous, and a great benevolence to mankind." By the death of Mrs. Scurlock, Steele had come into £500 a year, which made it more justifiable for him to maintain his "handsome and neatly furnished house," where the table, servants, coach, &c., were "very genteel."

A new periodical, The Guardian, was begun on March 12, 1713, and was issued daily until October. Steele wrote 82 of the 175 numbers, and Addison, Berkeley and Pope were among the contributors. The periodical was written on the same lines as the Spectator, and many of the papers are excellent, but with the fortieth number Steele was drawn into a political quarrel with the Examiner, and the Guardian lost its value as literature. Politics ran so high that the representatives of each party applied to themselves the noble sentiments in Addison's tragedy, Cato, which was produced on April 14, and thus united in applauding the piece. Steele had undertaken to fill the house, and he wrote verses, afterwards prefixed to the play, in which he alluded to the fact that he had once inscribed Addison's name to his own "light scenes"; they, however, would soon die, and he therefore wished to "live, joined to a work of thine."

Attacks in the Examiner led Steele to complain of articles by "an estranged friend or an exasperated mistress," i.e. Swift or Mrs. Manley. Swift denied that he had at this time any hand in the Examiner, and a bitter quarrel arose between the two men. In June Steele resigned his position as Commissioner of the Stamp Office, and soon afterwards gave up his pension as a servant of the late Prince. On August 25 he was elected M.P. for the borough of Stockbridge, Hampshire. In the Guardian Steele had insisted that as one of the conditions of the peace the nation expected the demolition of Dunkirk; and this was dwelt upon at greater length in a pamphlet called The Importance of Dunkirk considered. A storm of controversial literature followed these declarations, and, in October the Guardian gave place to the Englishman, which was devoted almost entirely to politics. Addison said he was "in a thousand troubles for poor Dick," and hoped that his zeal for the public would not be ruinous to himself. Swift wrote bitter attacks—The Importance of the Guardian considered and The First Ode of the Second Book of Horace Paraphrased and addressed to Richard St—le, Esq., in the latter of which he suggested that when Steele had settled the affairs of Europe he might turn to Drury Lane, and produce the play with which he had long threatened the town, and which had for plot—

"To make a pair of jolly fellows,
The son and father, join to tell us
How sons may safely disobey,
And fathers never should say nay;
By which wise conduct they grow friends
At last—and so the story ends."

In January, 1714, Steele brought out The Crisis, a widely read pamphlet which set forth the facts relating to the Hanoverian Succession, and among the replies was Swift's The Public Spirit of the Whigs. Steele defended himself in the last number of the Englishman, and next day Parliament met, and Steele spoke in support of the motion that Sir Thomas Hanmer should be Speaker. Complaint was soon made that his writings were seditious, and, in spite of the aid of Walpole, Stanhope, Addison, and others, a motion for his expulsion was carried by the Tory House, on March 18, after several debates. In the meantime, the Whig House of Lords had taken measures against the printer and publisher of Swift's Public Spirit of the Whigs, and had insisted upon a reward being offered for the discovery of the author.

About this time Steele produced short-lived periodicals called The Lover and The Reader, and several political pamphlets. Although £3,000 had been given him by some unknown friends, he was involved in money difficulties, and the house in Bloomsbury Square was given up. But with the end of July came the serious illness of Queen Anne, who died on August 1st. The hopes of Bolingbroke and others were thrown to the ground, and George I. was peacefully proclaimed king. Bothmar at once acquainted his royal master with Steele's services, and soon after the king's arrival in England Steele was made Deputy-Lieutenant for the County of Middlesex, Surveyor of the Royal Stables at Hampton Court, a Justice of the Peace, and Supervisor of the Theatre Royal. He found time to publish, in October, an important pamphlet, Mr. Steele's Apology for Himself and his Writings, and The Ladies' Library, a compilation which he had revised, and which contained an admirable Dedication to his wife, concluding thus: "But I offend; and forget that what I say to you is to appear in public. You[Pg xlviii] are so great a lover of home, that I know it will be irksome to you to go into the world even in an applause. I will end this without so much as mentioning your little flock, or your own amiable figure at the head of it. That I think them preferable to all other children, I know is the effect of passion and instinct. That I believe you to be the best of wives, I know proceeds from experience and reason."

VIII.

Until the death of the Queen, William Collier, M.P., who held a licence to act, in conjunction with Wilks, Cibber, Doggett, and Booth, had received a pension from those actors of £700 a year. At the accession of King George, as the pension could not be wholly got rid of, the four actors, as Colley Cibber tells us in his Apology, "imagined the merit of a Whig might now have as good a chance of getting into it, as that of a Tory had for being continued in it: having no obligations, therefore, to Collier, who had made the last penny of them, they applied themselves" to Steele, who had many pretensions to favour at Court. "We knew, too, the obligations the stage had to his writings; there being scarce a comedian of merit, in our whole company, whom his Tatlers had not made better by his public recommendation of them. And many days had our House been particularly filled by the influence and credit of his pen.... We therefore begged him to use his interest for the renewal of our licence, and that he would do us the honour of getting our names to stand with his, in the same Commission. This, we told him, would put it still further into his power of supporting the stage in that reputation to which his Lucubrations had already so much contributed; and that therefore we thought no man had better pretences to partake of its success." Steele was, of course, delighted at the offer. "It surprised him into an acknowledgment, that people, who are shy of obligations, are cautious of confessing. His spirits took such a lively turn upon it, that had we been all his own sons, no unexpected act of filial duty could have more endeared us to him." A new licence, upon the first mention of it, was obtained by Steele of the King, through the Duke of Marlborough, "the hero of his heart," who was now again Captain-General. According to a memorandum of Steele's he received a message from the King, "to know whether I was in earnest in desiring the Playhouse or that others thought of it for me. If I liked it I should have it as an earnest of His future favour."

The prosperity of the early part of the season of 1714-5 was checked by a renewal of the licence to the theatre in Lincoln's Inn Fields and by the desertion to that house of seven or eight actors. The other managers of Drury Lane Theatre found it necessary to point out to Steele that he stood in the same position as Collier, and that his pension of £700 was liable to the same conditions as Collier's, namely, that it was to be paid only so long as there was but one company allowed to act, and that if a second company were set up, the pension was to be changed from a fixed payment to an equal share of the profits. To this Steele at once agreed. "While we were offering to proceed," says Cibber, "Sir Richard stopped us short by assuring us, that as he came among us by our own invitation, he should always think himself obliged to come into any measures for our ease and service; that to be a burden to our industry would be more disagreeable to him than it could be to us, and as he had always taken a delight in his endeavours for our prosperity, he should be still ready, on our own terms, to continue them." Every one who knew Steele in his prosperity, Cibber remarks, "knew that this was his manner of dealing with his friends in business." Steele, however, told Cibber and the others that he was advised to get their licence during pleasure enlarged into a more durable authority, and with this object he proposed that he should obtain a Patent for himself, for his life and three years after, which he would then assign over to them. To this the managers were only too glad to agree, for, among other benefits, it would free them from too great a dependency upon the Lord Chamberlain, or the officers under him, who, not having "the hearts of noblemen," often showed that insolence of office to which narrow minds are liable. Steele accordingly applied for a Patent, and his request was complied with on January 19, 1715. A week earlier he had received a gift of £500 from the King.

On the 20th of January, Steele left London for Boroughbridge, a place for which he was to be elected Member of Parliament on the 2nd of the following month. The Patent was only received on the 19th of January, and, therefore, as Cibber says, "We were forced that very night to draw up in a hurry (till our counsel might more advisably perfect it) his assignment to us of equal shares in the Patent, with farther conditions of partnership.... This assignment (which I had myself the hasty penning of) was so worded, that it gave Sir Richard as equal a title to our property as it had given us to his authority in the Patent. But Sir Richard, notwithstanding, when he returned to town, took no advantage of the mistake." Cibber adds that Steele's equity and honour proved as advantageous to himself as to them, for instead of £700, his income from the theatre, by his accepting a share instead of the fixed pension, was about £1,000 a year.

Steele was knighted, in company with two other Deputy-Lieutenants, in April, and in May he celebrated the King's birthday by a grand entertainment in the great room at York Buildings. This room he called the "Censorium," and it was intended for select assemblies of two hundred persons, "leaders in politeness, wit, and learning." The undertaking appears to have been successful, and it was carried on for some time.

The Englishman was revived in July, with the object of making good the accusations which had been levelled long before against Oxford, Bolingbroke, and other members of the late Government. Steele appears to have asked for £1,000 a year before undertaking this work,[7] and from the fact that he continued the paper after threatening to drop it when the third number had been published, it would seem that he was paid at least £500 by Walpole. Soon afterwards he applied, but without success, for the vacant Mastership of the Charterhouse. Of Steele's various publications in 1715-6 it is impossible to speak here; it will be enough to notice that Addison's comedy, The Drummer, was published by Steele on March 21, 1716, with a preface in which he said that the play had for some years been in the hands of the author, who had been persuaded by him to allow of its representation on the stage. In June he was appointed one of the thirteen Commissioners who were to deal with the estates forfeited by noblemen and gentlemen, chiefly Scottish, who had taken up arms on the side of the Pretender during the late rising. The salary was £1,000 a year.

Money difficulties made it necessary, in July, 1716, for Steele to mortgage his interest in the theatre to an Edward Minshull, M.P., who had on previous occasions lent him money. In January, 1717, further money was raised upon Steele's share of the scenery, clothes, and profits. This led to much trouble, and ultimately to a Chancery action, in 1722, which is described in the Appendix. In that same year, Minshull, who was a gambler, was found guilty of fraud, but he succeeded in escaping to Holland.

Lady Steele went to Carmarthenshire in November, 1716, and remained there till the end of the following year. When she left London one of her children was sickening for the smallpox, and, according to her husband, there was not "an inch of candle, a pound of coal, or a bit of meat in the house." The little girl recovered, however, and money came in; and, during the following weeks, Steele wrote some charming letters about his "dear innocents," full of good resolves for the future, which did not meet with any very hearty response from his ailing wife. In one letter he spoke of turning all his thoughts to finish his comedy, but he also had great hopes from a "Fish-pool scheme," the object of which was to bring fish alive to London. When his "dear little peevish, beautiful, wise governess" called him "good Dick," he said he was so enraptured that he could forget his miserable lameness—he was suffering from gout—and walk down to Wales.

After many delays, Steele set out, in October, to attend the meetings of the Forfeited Estates Commission at Edinburgh, where he was very well received. He was, however, soon back in London, and, in June, 1718, obtained Letters Patent for the Fish-pool, which was followed by much litigation on the part of a man named Sansome, who said he had rendered valuable aid in developing the scheme. In the autumn, Steele was again in Scotland, and in December he lost his "dear and honoured wife." She was buried in the south transept of Westminster Abbey.

The Peerage Bill was introduced by the Government in 1719, with a view of limiting the power of creating new peers. The real object was to prevent a growth of the influence either of king or people, in both of which the aristocratic Whigs saw danger to themselves. Steele did not agree on this question with the party leaders, and he was honest and bold enough to oppose their bill in a paper called the Plebeian. Addison replied in the Old Whig, and unfortunately the controversy led to the estrangement of the two friends. There was no opportunity for reconciliation, for Addison died shortly after the appearance of these pamphlets. The Peerage Bill was revived in November, but was thrown out in December, immediately after the publication of another pamphlet by Steele.

The Government at once took steps to punish their candid friend. As early as 1717, the Duke of Newcastle, who then became Lord Chamberlain, had requested the managers of the theatre to accept a licence in place of their patent. This Steele declined to do, and the matter dropped; but in the following year there was further friction, owing to the claim of the managers that they were exempt from the Duke's authority. The Attorney-General was consulted on this point, and upon the question whether Steele had power to sell or alienate his interest in the patent; but the result is not recorded. The first act of revenge was an order, on December 19, 1719, forbidding Cibber—who had dedicated his Ximena to Steele—to act or take part in the management of the theatre. Steele remonstrated, and commenced an interesting periodical called the Theatre, in vindication of himself and his fellow-managers. On January 23, 1720, the licence was revoked, and the Lord Chamberlain threatened to obtain a sign manual to silence the theatre. Steele petitioned the King, but on the 25th a warrant was issued forbidding any acting at Drury Lane until further order. On the 27th a licence, to be held during pleasure, was granted to Wilks, Cibber, and Booth; and on March 4, in spite of every effort of Steele's to obtain justice, the King's Company of Comedians were sworn at the office of the Lord Chamberlain, to whom they agreed to be subservient. Next month, in the last number of the Theatre, Steele alluded to the loss he had sustained in not being able to produce his own pieces advantageously, and stated that he would forthwith publish a new comedy, called Sir John Edgar. This agrees with letters from Dr. Rundle, who wrote that it was said that a most excellent comedy of Steele's was prevented being acted at the Haymarket Theatre, lest its wit and sense should spoil the relish for operas. This comedy, however, never saw the light.

Throughout 1720 the country was occupied with the fortunes of the South Sea Company and other schemes, by which people hoped to make rapid fortunes. Steele, both in and out of the House, again opposed the action of ministers, and his conduct was justified in the autumn, when the bubble burst. Aislabie, the elder Craggs, the Stanhopes, and Sunderland were all compromised; and Walpole became First Lord of the Treasury. Steele, as in the case of the 1715 Rebellion, advocated mercy towards the directors of the company as individuals, though he had fearlessly condemned their action while they had the power of doing harm. On the 2nd of May, 1721, through Walpole's influence, the Lord Chamberlain issued a warrant, ordering the managers of the theatre to account to Steele for his share of the profits, past and future. In the autumn he was again in Scotland.

Articles quadrupartite were entered into on September 19, between Steele, Wilks, Cibber, and Booth, by which it was agreed that Steele's executors should, for three years after his death, receive one-fourth part of the profits of the theatre, and should also have, at his death, £1,200 for his share in the patent, clothes, scenery, &c. Further articles were also signed, which had for their object the protection of the actors in case Steele were again deprived by order of the King or Lord Chamberlain of his interest in the theatre. These agreements did not prevent Steele having difficulty in getting from the other managers his share of the profits, though he had already given them £400 each, in consideration, as they said, of a fourth part of the scenery, &c., which belonged to them. At the close of the year Steele republished The Drummer, which had not been included by Tickell in the collected edition of Addison's works, and prefixed to it a vindication of himself from charges made by the editor. In March, 1722, he became Member of Parliament for Wendover.

IX.

As early as 1720 Steele spoke in the Theatre of "a friend of mine" who was lately preparing a comedy according to the just laws of the stage, and had introduced a scene in which the first character bore unprovoked wrong, denied a duel, and still appeared a man of honour and courage. This was clearly an allusion to the play eventually to be published as The Conscious Lovers. And in a paragraph in Mist's Weekly Journal for November 18, 1721, printed a year before the play appeared, readers were informed that "Sir Richard Steele proposes to represent a character upon the stage this season that was never seen there yet: His Gentleman has been two years a dressing, and we wish he may make a good appearance at last." In June, 1722, Vanbrugh, in a letter to Tonson, lamented the absence of new plays of any value. "Steele, however," he said, "has one to come on at winter, which they much commend." On September 22 the British Journal stated that a considerable number of new plays were promised at Drury Lane that season, and that Steele's new comedy would be set up immediately after Mrs. Centlivre's The Artifice. In October the newspapers announced that Steele's play would be called The Unfashionable Lovers, or as others said, The Fine Gentleman. When the play was produced, on November 7th, the title chosen was The Conscious Lovers.

Mrs. Oldfield, Mrs. Younger, Booth, Wilks, and Cibber took the principal parts in what was, in many respects, Steele's best play, and Benjamin Victor says that the author, with whom he sat at the first performance, was charmed with all the actors except Griffin, who represented Cimberton, a very ungrateful part. The play ran for eighteen nights, which at that time meant a great success, and there were eight further performances during the season. It was published in December,[8] with a dedication to the King, for which Steele appears to have received five hundred guineas.

In the Preface the success of the play was attributed to the excellent manner in which every part was acted; for a play is meant to be seen, not read. "The chief design of this was to be an innocent performance, and the audience have abundantly showed how ready they are to support what is visibly intended that way; nor do I make any difficulty to acknowledge that the whole was writ for the sake of the scene of the fourth act, wherein Mr Bevil evades the quarrel with his friend; and hope it may have some effect upon the Goths and Vandals that frequent the theatres, or a more polite audience may supply their absence." The general idea of the play was taken from Terence's Andria, but after the first two acts Steele's indebtedness to Terence is very slight. Cibber, however, rendered valuable assistance. "Mr. Cibber's zeal for the work," wrote Steele, "his care and application in instructing the actors, and altering the dispositions of the scenes, when I was, through sickness, unable to cultivate such things myself, has been a very obliging favour and friendship to me." Theophilus Cibber, who had a part in the original cast, says that when Steele finished the comedy, the parts of Tom and Phillis were not in it, and that Colley Cibber, when he heard it read, said he liked it upon the whole, but that it was rather too grave for an English audience, who think the end of a comedy is to make them laugh. Steele thereupon agreed to the introduction of some comic characters, and at his request the play received many additions by Cibber. The piece was, as Victor says, "the last blaze of Sir Richard's glory"; and it is probable that Cibber deserves all the thanks Steele gave him for preparing for the stage the manuscript which had for so long been in preparation, and which, without assistance, might never have been completed. It is difficult, however, to accept Theophilus Cibber's account in its entirety, because the germ of the delightful scene in which Tom, the gentleman's gentleman, describes how he fell in love with Phillis, is to be found in No. 87 of the Guardian, where Steele says he had in mind a scene which he had recently observed while passing a house. This is the form which the story ultimately took:—

Tom. Ah! Too well I remember when, and how, and on what occasion I was first surprised. It was on the first of April, one thousand seven hundred and fifteen, I came into Mr. Sealand's service; I was then a hobbledehoy, and you a pretty little tight girl, a favourite handmaid of the housekeeper. At that time we neither of us knew what was in us: I remember I was ordered to get out of the window, one pair of stairs, to rub the sashes clean; the person employed on the inner side was your charming self, whom I had never seen before.

Phillis. I think I remember the silly accident: What made ye, you oaf, ready to fall down into the street?

Tom. You know not, I warrant you—You could not guess what surprised me. You took no delight, when you immediately grew wanton, in your conquest, and put your lips close, and breathed upon the glass, and when my lips approached, a dirty cloth you rubbed against my face, and hid your beauteous form; when I again drew near, you spit, and rubbed, and smiled at my undoing.

Phillis. What silly thoughts you men have!

Tom. ... Oh, Phillis! Phillis! shorten my torment and declare you pity me.

Phillis. I believe it's very sufferable; the pain is not so exquisite but that you may bear it a little longer.

"If I were rich," said Phillis in another place, "I could twire and loll as well as the best of them. Oh, Tom! Tom! Is it not a pity that you should be so great a coxcomb, and I so great a coquette, and yet be such poor devils as we are?"

The names of some of the characters recall earlier writings, for Lucinda and her father, Mr. Sealand, Mr. Charles Myrtle, and Humphrey, the servant, had all appeared in the Theatre, while there was another Myrtle in the Lover. There are, too, passages which at once remind us of the style of the earlier periodicals; thus Bevil, after escorting a music-master to the door, says to Indiana, "You smile, madam, to see me so complaisant to one whom I pay for his visit: Now, I own, I think it is not enough barely to pay those whose talents are superior to our own (I mean such talents as would become our condition, if we had them). Methinks we ought to do something more than barely gratify them for what they do at our command, only because their fortune is below us"; to which Indiana replies, "You said, I smile; I assure you it was a smile of approbation; for, indeed, I cannot but think it the distinguishing part of a gentleman to make his superiority of fortune as easy to his inferiors as he can." Or, to take another passage in the conversation of these same "conscious lovers," Bevil remarks, "If pleasure be worth purchasing, how great a pleasure is it to him, who has a true taste of life, to ease an aching heart, to see the human countenance lighted up with smiles of joy on receipt of a bit of ore which is superfluous and otherwise useless in a man's own pocket." He even remembers to praise Addison: "The moral writers practise virtue after death: This charming Vision of Mirza! Such an author consulted in a morning sets the spirit for the vicissitudes of the day better than the glass does a man's person." And when Sir John Bevil observes that, "What might injure a citizen's credit may be no strain to a gentleman's honour," Mr. Sealand says, "Sir John, the honour of a gentleman is liable to be tainted by as small a matter as the credit of a trader." Much the same lesson is taught, less sententiously, when Phillis exclaims, "Oh, Tom! Tom! thou art as false and as base as the best gentleman of them all."

Parson Adams said that he thought The Conscious Lovers the only play fit for a Christian to see; "indeed," he added, "it contains some things almost solemn enough for a sermon." In this kindly satire Fielding indicated the weakness of the play. The chief interest of the piece is sentimental, and the hero is not always free from priggishness. Yet the duelling scene, for which, as Steele says, the whole was written, has much dramatic interest, and the protest against false ideas of honour—"decisions a tyrant custom has introduced, to the breach of all laws both divine and human"—was at that time courageous, and much needed. If some of the things expressed in this play are more suited for a paper in the Spectator, there is nothing in true comedy which makes it incongruous to convey, in a manner suited to that form of art, a serious lesson of life. If, again, as some say, there is more pathos than is allowable in the scene in which Sealand recovers his long-lost daughter and sister, the end is that of true comedy; the "pedantic coxcomb" Cimberton no longer wants Sealand's daughter when he finds that, by the discovery of Indiana, Lucinda's fortune will be halved; Bevil is able, in marrying Indiana, the lady he loves, to comply with his father's wish that he should be united to Sealand's daughter; and Bevil's friend, Myrtle, the true lover whose affection is not lessened by change in the lady's dowry, is rewarded with the hand of Lucinda. The friends, formerly supposed by one of them to be rivals, thus become brothers.

Steele alluded to current criticism when he said, in his Preface, that the incident of the threatened duel and the case of the father and daughter were thought by some to be no subjects of comedy; "but I cannot," he continued, "be of their mind, for anything that has its foundation in happiness and success must be allowed to be the object of comedy." His object, as Welsted said in the Prologue, was to

"please by wit that scorns the aid of vice;
The praise he seeks, from worthier motives springs,
Such praise, as praise to those that give, it brings."

It was for the audience

"To chasten wit, and moralise the stage."

If success is to be measured by the amount of discussion caused by a work, The Conscious Lovers was, indeed, fortunate. Dennis began the attack in a pamphlet before the play was publicly acted, and afterwards returned to the charge. Much of what he said was personal abuse, but some of his remarks are interesting, and show what were then held to be the weak points in the piece. He complained that Bevil was given the qualities of an old man, and maintained that the characters were not just images of their contemporaries, that patterns for imitation were set up instead of follies and vices being made ridiculous, and that the subject of the comedy was not by its constitution comical. Bevil's filial piety, he said, was carried too far, and his behaviour to Indiana was still more unaccountable, for though he had in one sense concealed his passion, there was no retreat with honour for him, because by his generosity and constant visits he had raised a passion for him in Indiana, and had compromised her. The catastrophe, he confessed, was very moving, but it might have been more surprising, if handled differently. The action in Terence's play was natural, as, for example, the conduct of Glycerium at the funeral of Chrysis; but the scene at the masquerade between Bevil and Indiana was an absurd imitation, for Indiana did not know that her affection was returned. As for Bevil, "this man of conscience and of religion is as arrant an hypocrite as a certain author," and was constantly dissimulating. Dennis concluded by saying that the sentiments were often frivolous, false, and absurd; the dialogue awkward, clumsy, and spiritless; the diction affected, barbarous, and too often Hibernian.

There were other pamphlets for and against the play, and the newspapers contained many articles on the subject. One writer remarked that a great part of Squire Cimberton's conversation, "some of which has since been omitted," could not be reconciled with rules often laid down by Steele. "He [Steele] must always be agreeable, till he ceases to be at all; and yet it has been always fashionable to use him ill: Blockheads of quality, who are scarce capable of reading his works, have affected a sort of ill-bred merit in despising 'em; and they who have no taste for his writings, have pretended to a displeasure at his conduct."

X.

The remaining years of Steele's life need not detain us long. In 1723 he wrote to his eldest daughter, Betty, "I have taken a great deal of pains to serve the world, and hope God will allow me some time to serve my own family. My good girl, employ yourself always in some good work, that you may be as good a woman as your mother." A few days later Vanbrugh wrote, "Happening to meet with Sir Richard Steele t'other day at Mr. Walpole's in town, he seemed to me to be (at least) in the declining way I had heard he was." The complications arising from the mortgage of Steele's interest in the theatre still troubled him, and from the 18th of June the other managers each took, for his own use, £1 13s. 4d. for every day upon which a play was acted, an arrangement from which Steele was excluded.

The success of The Conscious Lovers encouraged Steele to endeavour to finish another play; and the newspapers reported that it would be acted that winter. This was The School of Action, which has for its scene a theatre, mistaken by a lady's guardian for an inn; but the piece was left in a very incomplete condition. There is also a fragment of another play, The Gentleman; it was a dramatised version of a paper in the Spectator upon high life below stairs. In September illness forced Steele to go to Bath, and a few weeks later his only surviving son, Eugene, died. "Lord, grant me patience; pray write to me constantly," the father wrote to Betty: "Why don't you mention Molly? Is she dead, too?" In the spring of 1724 he was again in London, and in April a proposal for the payment of his debts was drawn up, from which it appears that, as he lived for more than five years afterwards, his liabilities were probably all met before his death. There was again reference to "a new play, which Sir Richard may produce next winter." In June an indenture quadrupartite was made between Steele, of the first part; Wilks, Cibber, and Booth, of the second part; a number of creditors, of the third part; and the Rev. David Scurlock, of the fourth part, to provide for the[Pg lxviii] payment of debts out of Steele's share of the profits of the theatre. For this purpose Mr. Scurlock—Lady Steele's cousin—was appointed trustee.

The autumn of 1724 was spent at Carmarthen. In February, 1725, Steele was at Hereford, where he received £100 from the King's bounty; and in July he was again at Carmarthen. He retired to the country from "a principle of doing justice to his creditors," and not, as Swift said after his death, because of the "perils of a hundred gaols." In December, 1724, the other managers urged him to return to town at once; the audiences decreased daily, and it was impossible to contend against other forms of entertainment; the profits had fallen by more than a half. Nothing came of this application, and in September, 1725, protracted law proceedings were instituted in the Court of Chancery, by Steele and Scurlock, against Wilks, Cibber, Booth, Castleman, and Woolley. An abstract of the pleadings will be found in the Appendix. The Court gave judgment in February, 1728, confirming the allowance of £1 13s. 4d. a day to each of the three managers; but the case was not brought to a close until July, when, as Cibber says, "Sir Richard not being advised to appeal to the Lord Chancellor, both parties paid their own costs, and thought it their mutual interest to let this be the last of their law suits."

During the remaining three years of his life Steele lived chiefly at Tygwyn, a farm-house overlooking the Towy, and within sight of Carmarthen. There he had a stroke of paralysis, which was accompanied by a partial loss of speech, but he kept his sweetness of temper and kindliness towards others to the last. There is a pleasant anecdote, told by Victor, and fully confirmed elsewhere, that he "would often be carried out on a summer's evening, where the country lads and lasses were assembled at their rural sports, and, with his pencil, give an order on his agent, the mercer, for a new gown to the best dancer." By his will, made in 1727, and witnessed by John Dyer, the poet, he left the residue of his small property, after certain legacies, to his "dear and well-beloved daughters, Elizabeth and Mary." Elizabeth, who had many admirers, afterwards married Lord Trevor; Mary died shortly after her father. Before his death Steele was moved to a house in King Street, Carmarthen, where he passed away on September 1, 1729. On the 4th he was privately buried in the vault of the Scurlocks, in St. Peter's Church. This vault was accidentally opened in 1876, and Steele's remains exposed to view; but they were carefully re-interred, and the skull enclosed in a small lead coffin.

Steele's faults are apparent, and they have not been allowed to be forgotten by writers of his own day or of later times. That he was thriftless is manifest, but his income, though it came from various sources, was uncertain and irregular, and he had passed the prime of life before he had anything like handsome means. Many of his debts, too, are to be accounted for by the generosity and open-handedness which are a characteristic of the nation in which he was born. That he sometimes drank more than was wise is equally well known, but that fault does not strike us so much when we remember that hard drinking was then the common practice, and that many could consume, with impunity, an amount which would undoubtedly have upset Steele entirely.

Against these defects, and a certain general weakness of character to which they were due, we have to set his unselfish patriotism, the high aims of his writings, which had a most beneficial effect upon his own and future generations, his affection for wife and children, and his loyalty to his friends. Whatever there is to forgive is more than made up for by these qualities, which have made him, to this day, one of the best-loved characters of his time.

Steele's comedies were often reprinted in separate form during the century following their production, and there were about a dozen editions in which these separate plays were collected together, with a general title-page. The last of these bears the date 1761. In 1809 Nichols published the fragments of two unfinished comedies in his edition of Steele's Correspondence. In the present volume all Steele's dramatic works have for the first time been gathered together, and an attempt has been made to provide such annotation as seemed necessary. Changes of scene, sometimes not noticed in the old copies, have been indicated, and modern conventions respecting spelling and the like have been adopted, while punctuation, which was very erratic in the early issues, has, where necessary, been modified. The text has been collated with the first and later editions of each play.

G. A. Aitken.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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