ts power to do mischief, the general reformation in the public taste,
which followed that of the dramatic writings, equally show its
competency to effectuate good. Rousseau, who had little less dislike to
plays and players than Jeremy Collier, says, in a letter to D'Alembert,
"Let us not attribute to the stage the power of changing opinions or
manners, when it has only that of following and heightening them. An
author who offends the general taste may as well cease to write, for
nobody will read his works. When Moliere reformed the stage he attacked
modes and ridiculous customs, but he did not insult the public taste; he
either followed or explained it." So far Rousseau was right. It is the
public that gives the stage its bias--necessarily preceding it in taste
and opinion, and pointing out the direction to its object. In return the
stage gives the public a stronger impulse in morals and manners.
Wherever the stage is found corrupted with bad morals, it may be taken
for granted that the nation has been corrupted before it; when it
labours under the evils of a bad taste, it may safely be concluded that
that of the public has been previously vitiated. The truth is evident in
the wretched state of dramatic taste in England at this moment, where,
corrupted by the spectacles and mummery of the Italian opera, by the
rage for preternatural agency acquired from the reading of ghost novels
and romances, and by the introduction of German plays or translations,
the people can relish nothing but melo-drame, show, extravagant
incident, stage effect and situation--goblins, demons, fiddling,
capering and pantomime, and the managers, in order to live, are
compelled to gratify the deluded tasteless multitude at an incalculable
expense.

What the advantages are which could be derived from abolishing the stage
can only be judged from a view of the moral state of those countries in
which the drama has been for ages discouraged and held in disrepute,
compared with that of countries where it has been supported and
cultivated. Spain comes nearest to a total want of a regular drama of
any Christian country in Europe; and if there be any person who prefers
the moral state of that country to the moral state of Great Britain or
America, we wish him joy of his opinion, and assure him that we admire
neither his taste, his argument, nor his inference.

We have thus far entered into a vindication of the stage, not with the
slightest hope of changing