The previous chapter argued that British moral philosophy, confronted by arguments for universal egoism, deploys the passivity trope to imagine a disinterested self “acted by another,” much like the protestant self. Although grounded in a “Nature” that could restrict its availability, this disinterested self is an enticing enough cultural fiction to encourage many to feel they possess the same natural capacities as their supposed betters. These subjects who seize the capacity to feel may simultaneously disable themselves from recognizing their own “interests” as anything but partial or deviant, but the passivity trope enables these subjects to trust that their actions are disinterested and non-rhetorical. Eighteenth-century acting theory deploys the passivity trope as well to construct the objects it analyzes – actors' bodies – as trustworthy spectacles. Compensating for the unsettling possibility that all individuals can persuasively manipulate all public signs, even apparently “natural” bodily signs, theatrical discourse appropriates the passivity trope in a series of contests surrounding the stage practice of David Garrick, the eighteenth-century stage's premier actor. By means of the passivity trope, acting discourse explains away Garrick's remarkable capacity to transform himself, seemingly at will, into anything at all. This discourse secures his legibility, insisting that exterior sign corresponds to interior feeling, by stripping from Garrick control over his own appearance. This discourse, I argue, not only subjects Garrick to his nerves but also implies that each member of his audience is similarly subjected.