For some years the fascinations of public applause riveted this capricious genius to the occupation of a dramatist. During the first years of Anne’s reign, he accomplished the erection, by subscription, of the Haymarket Theatre, for the building of which he had interest enough to obtain a sum of three thousand pounds from thirty persons of rank, each of whom subscribed a hundred pounds. At this time the courtly Vanburgh paid a public tribute to the Marlborough family, by inscribing on the first stone that was laid of the theatre, the words, “The Little Whig,” in compliment to Lady Sunderland, popularly known by that designation. It was in this theatre that, in conjunction with Congreve, he managed the affairs of Betterton’s company, and produced for their benefit comedies which would not now be tolerated for a single evening, on a stage, pure in its subjects as compared with that of the last century. It is said by Cibber that Vanburgh eventually repented of the immoral tendency of his works, and that he would willingly have sought to retrieve his errors by more chastened publications. Those authors, who degrade themselves, and debase the minds of others, should remember, that it is impossible to counteract the baneful effects of that species of poison, which of all others is the most easily disseminated. The envenomed shaft of licentious wit never flies in vain, nor can its direful progress be recalled. It is uncertain at what time Vanburgh became an architect; but he must very rapidly have attained eminence, since his first great work, “Castle Howard,” was completed before Blenheim became habitable. Handsome in countenance, witty, accomplished, and not of lowly birth, Vanburgh soon won the favour of those with whom he was, from his occupations, brought into contact. His cheerfulness was never overclouded by any misfortune. Even during a temporary confinement in the Bastile, his spirits were unabated, and the great secret of his composure was employment.[231] It appears extraordinary that so inferior a sculptor as Vanburgh should have been selected to build a palace raised at the expense of the nation. Although satirised by Swift, Walpole, and Pope, Sir John Vanburgh had, however, his admirers, and received high encomiums from Sir Joshua Reynolds, who declares, “that in his architectural works there is a greater display of imagination than in any other.” “He had,” says Sir Joshua, “great originality of invention; he understood light and shadow, and had great skill in composition.” These, with other commendations, from the same great judge, might have rescued many characters from the reproaches of posterity; but Blenheim, massive without grandeur, and laboured in style, without unity of design, stands an everlasting reproach to its architect.