This work such an academy might begin, and I believe nothing would
so soon explode the practice as the public discouragement of it by
such a society; where all our customs and habits, both in speech and
behaviour, should receive an authority. All the disputes about
precedency of wit, with the manners, customs, and usages of the
theatre, would be decided here; plays should pass here before they
were acted, and the critics might give their censures and damn at
their pleasure; nothing would ever die which once received life at
this original. The two theatres might end their jangle, and dispute
for priority no more; wit and real worth should decide the
controversy, and here should be the infallible judge.


The strife would then be only to do well,
And he alone be crowned who did excel.
Ye call them Whigs, who from the church withdrew,
But now we have our stage dissenters too,
Who scruple ceremonies of pit and box,
And very few are sound and orthodox,
But love disorder so, and are so nice,
They hate conformity, though 'tis in vice.
Some are for patent hierarchy; and some,
Like the old Gauls, seek out for elbow room;
Their arbitrary governors disown,
And build a conventicle stage of their own.
Fanatic beaux make up the gaudy show,
And wit alone appears incognito.
Wit and religion suffer equal fate;
Neglect of both attends the warm debate.
For while the parties strive and countermine,