Plays and Puritans

In Short

This work is a vigorous historical re-evaluation of the conflict between the English Puritans and the Stuart-era dramatists. By examining the plays of the period—including those of Beaumont, Fletcher, and Webster—the text argues that the theater of the time was morally bankrupt, obsessed with crime and profligacy, and rightfully rejected by the earnest, high-minded Puritans. Far from being cultural vandals, the author contends that the Puritans were men of deep imagination and moral seriousness, whose sober standards of conduct and dress eventually triumphed to define modern English taste.

The Story

The narrative begins by addressing the prevailing sentiment of the author's own time: the suspicion that the seventeenth-century Puritans were narrow-minded zealots who stifled a "golden age" of English art. The author invites the reader to look past this "ready-made history" and examine the actual content of the plays that the Puritans sought to suppress. He posits that the dramatic output under James I and Charles I was not a flowering of genius, but a steady, sordid deterioration.

As the argument progresses, the author dissects the morality of the Jacobean and Caroline stage. He paints a picture of a theater scene that, rather than holding a mirror up to nature or virtue, greedily catered to the public appetite for "dirt," "iniquity," and "horror." Drawing upon contemporary sources, he demonstrates that many of the playwrights themselves—men often living reckless, violent lives—lacked any true moral purpose. Instead of the artistic excellence often ascribed to them, he finds playwrights who leaned heavily on Italian models, importing tales of adultery, seduction, and revenge. He notes that the "apotheosis of Rakes"—the glorification of the young, disobedient, and dissolute gentleman—became a standard trope, painting bad behavior as a mark of spirit and wit.

The author turns his critical lens to specific examples, such as the works of Webster, finding them lacking in the true character development found in Shakespeare. Where critics might see "noble" tragedies, the author sees only "stereotyped" characters and a desperate search for sensational effect. He contrasts this dramatic decay with the character of the average Puritan. He argues that the Puritan was not the "fanatic" of popular fiction but a man of domestic tenderness, intellectual vigor, and profound inner life. The argument reaches its conclusion by asserting that the Puritan victory was not merely a political one, but a cultural one. Their preference for sobriety, plainness, and moral discipline eventually permeated all of English society, to the point where even their modern critics adopt the very manners and aesthetics that the Puritans fought to establish. The book ends by insisting that the Puritan’s life, lived in faith and service, was inherently more poetic than the artificial, hollow scripts of the stage-players they opposed.

How It Unfolds

The cultural indictment The author sets the stage by challenging the modern assumption that the Puritans were simply "men of very bad taste." He argues that the public, misled by "ready-made history," has unfairly vilified those who stood against the moral rot of the Stuart courts.

The anatomy of decline The text moves into a detailed critique of the theater, arguing that dramatic quality worsened significantly from the early years of James I. The author asserts that the plays were increasingly defined by blasphemy, filth, and a fascination with the darker passions of the human soul.

The critique of the masters The author examines the works of playwrights like Webster and Shirley, arguing that their plots rely on "improbable iniquity" rather than genuine human insight. He maintains that their characters are not real people but "mere passions or humours in human form."

The Puritan defense The argument shifts to the character of the Puritans themselves, highlighting their intellectual depth and personal piety. The author uses the example of Milton to prove that a man could be a committed Puritan and still possess a profound love for high art and classical beauty.

The final assessment The book concludes by claiming that the "whirligig of time" has vindicated the Puritans. By showing that modern society has adopted their standards of dress and conduct, the author argues that the Puritans were, in fact, the true architects of enduring English sobriety.

The People

The central figures are not individuals in a plot, but archetypes and historical forces. The Stuart Playwrights—including Beaumont, Fletcher, and Webster—emerge as the primary antagonists. The author portrays them as men who, despite their technical skill, were essentially merchants of "dirt" and "horror," writing for a decadent court that demanded entertainment at the expense of morality.

The Puritans stand as the collective protagonist. The author strips away the "fanatic" caricature, presenting them as the "average nobleman, gentleman, merchant, or farmer." They are depicted as men of "higher imagination" and sound taste, who prioritized the health of their own souls and the moral integrity of their nation over the fleeting, hollow spectacles of the theater.

John Milton is the vital bridge between these worlds, serving as the author’s prime evidence. He represents the "high art" that the theater failed to achieve—a man of deep classical learning and profound poetic feeling who nonetheless aligned himself with the Puritan cause. Finally, the modern reader acts as the silent participant, whom the author addresses directly, challenging them to drop their prejudices and see that the "scapegrace" ideal of the stage has finally been replaced by the sober, earnest principles the Puritans once championed.

In Its Own Voice

"Thus, in fact, the temper of the British nation toward ‘Art’ is simply that of the old Puritans, softened, no doubt, and widened, but only enough so as to permit Art, not to encourage it."

The author concludes that the British public's modern, lukewarm relationship with the arts is the natural successor to the Puritan legacy.

"Yes, Milton was a Puritan; one who, instead of trusting himself and his hopes of the universe to second-hand hearsays, systems, and traditions, had looked God’s Word and his own soul in the face, and determined to act on that which he had found."

This serves as the author’s central defense, showing that one of the greatest English poets was fundamentally a man of the Puritan faith.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an inquiry into the relationship between art and morality. It asks whether a work of art can be truly "great" if it is morally indifferent or fundamentally corrupt. The author argues that art must be grounded in moral justice to be valuable; when the stage fails to punish evil, it ceases to be a mirror of nature and becomes merely a purveyor of "iniquity." Beyond this, the book is a study of historical revisionism, questioning how a culture remembers its ancestors. It challenges the reader to consider if the "preciseness" of the past was actually a necessary, principled reaction to a society that had lost its moral compass, and whether our modern habits are more indebted to our "enemies" than we realize.

Why Read It Today

This book is for those who enjoy rigorous, polemical history and are interested in the long-running tensions between religious devotion and secular culture. It provides a fascinating, if highly opinionated, look at the seventeenth-century stage, serving as a reminder that the canon of "classic literature" has always been a subject of fierce debate.

Readers should be prepared for a prose style that is distinctly Victorian—earnest, dense, and occasionally combative. The author does not shy away from moralizing, and his disdain for the "rakish" theater of the Stuarts is palpable. You will encounter occasional references to obscure seventeenth-century writers, and the author’s assumption that his reader possesses a high level of literary familiarity can make for a challenging, though rewarding, experience. What stays with you is the warmth of the author’s appreciation for the "average" Puritan—the image of a man coming home to his family in the quiet, misty fens, carrying a weight of conviction and a depth of inner life that the flashy playwrights of London could never capture. It is a work that forces you to question your own assumptions about what constitutes "good taste" and who, in the grand narrative of history, truly holds the moral high ground.