tendency of the stage, if we consider the character of those who resort to, and advocate it, compared with the character of those who are unfriendly to, and avoid it. It must be too much matter of common notoriety to require any proof, that the ranks of those who habitually frequent the theatre, are chiefly made up of those classes of society, whose main object in life is pleasure and amusement, rather than of those whose chief pursuit is business, and who are mainly intent on usefulness, and the quiet and faithful discharge of their duty. Still fewer are seen in their ranks, of those whose main object is to "use this world as not abusing it," and to make it a medium of transition to another and a brighter world. I do not say, that good men, and even pious men, are never seen at the theatre; but, when there, they must feel themselves to be out of their proper element, and, in like manner, are felt to be out of their proper element by those who see them there.

4. The history of theatrical entertainments shows very clearly, that their use is inseparable from their abuse. The argument against the use of a thing, derived from its abuse, is not generally a good one. Many things have been very much abused, the use of which, however, is not only justifiable, but even indispensable. There are very few things which are incapable of perversion and abuse. Religion itself has sometimes been made a cloak of licentiousness. This is a part of the imperfection which is stamped on all human affairs. But, when a practice has existed from the earliest times, and has always been abused; when we are acquainted with its history, and this history shows that its existence is inseparable from its abuse, the conclusion against it is sound and perfectly legitimate. Such is the case with theatrical amusements. The advocates of theatres always praise "a well-regulated theatre "; but they refer to it as what, in the nature of things, they think it might be, not as what it is and has been. Reasoning as usual, therefore, from what is past to what is to come, no man can ever expect to see "a well-regulated theatre."*

* It must have been under the impression, that dramatic representations, if under good regulation, might be turned to a good purpose, that the events, transactions, and characters of the Bible, and even the most sublime mysteries of

5. The stage has in all past time been a school of corrupt morals. The profession of an actor has never been considered respectable, much less honorable. There has always been a moral taint resting upon it. If this had been the case in one or a few ages and countries only, it might have been plausibly ascribed to unreasonable prejudices; but it is the estimate in which actors and actresses have been held in all ages and in every country. The conviction has been strong and universal, that there are circumstances in the profession of an actor, which tend to degrade his personal, and especially his moral character. It does not belong to me to inquire what the causes are, which tend so powerfully to degrade the character of actors, that few have escaped their influence. They lead a wandering and unsettled kind of life; they have no very definite prospects before them; their success in their profession does not very much depend on their character for moral worth; their gains are but very partially the reward of industry and virtue; they are subject to popular caprice, prejudice, and passion; to alternate hopes and the Christian faith, were, at one time, dramatized by the clergy, and represented in public. How extensive those representations were in Italy, France, England, and other Christian countries, in the thirteenth and succeeding centuries, is well known to every one who is familiar with the history of literature. The scenes, events, characters, and doctrines of Scripture were not only adapted to dramatic representation by the clergy, but this was conducted under their direction. The churches were used as theatres, in which to exhibit these "sacred or spiritual dramas," as they were called, and the actors were often, if not generally, the clergy themselves. In fitting up and patronizing such representations, the clergy, we may presume, acted from the best possible motives, to wit, the desire to communicate religious knowledge, and to impress the great scenes, transactions, and doctrines of revelation on the minds of the people, by availing themselves of the powerful aid of dramatic representation to effect this object, and by thus bringing this most perfect of the imitative arts into the service of religion. Still, with such motives, and under the direction of the hierarchy, powerful as it was in those days, the inherent vices of all representations of this kind were found to cling to them, and they were gradually relinquished, from the conviction that they were worse than useless. Architecture, music, poetry, painting, and statuary have all been brought into the service of religion, and have greatly contributed to its hold on the respect and affections of mankind; but it has been proved, after a full and fair actual experiment, that neither religion nor morals have any good to expect from any kind of dramatic representations. (See Bouterwek's History of Spanish and Portuguese Literature, Vol. I. pp. 501-521; Vol. II. pp. 89-99; Sismondi, La Littérature du Midi de l'Europe, Vol. I. pp. 337-349; Edinburgh Encylopædia, art. Drama.)

these must be

It is this de

fears, excitements and depressions; they live by a dependence on the ever-shifting breath of popular applause; among the causes which tend to degrade them. gradation which has excluded them, for the most part, from the pale of respectable society. Occasionally, an individual has successfully resisted the natural tendencies and influences of the profession, and has, by his talents and personal virtues, vindicated his claim to be admitted into the best circles of society. But these individuals have been few and far between, and are manifest exceptions to the general fact, which, when affirmed of the great body of the profession, admits of no question.

*

6. Again, the theatre is a school of corruption in respect to those who attend on its entertainments. If none but the young, the gay, the wealthy, and the fashionable were to be seen there; although good might not be expected, yet the hazard of much evil might be avoided. But far other classes of persons are accustomed to make the theatre their habitual place of resort. Of all places, this is the one in which evil communications most emphatically, and most extensively, corrupt good manners. To corrupt and to be corrupted is, with many who resort there, the order of the day. Opportunities and facilities of contamination, of every kind, are at hand. The spendthrift is there; they "that tarry long at the wine, and are mighty at strong drink," are there; the gamester leaves his habitual haunts to be there; the pickpocket is there. All "the lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God" delight to congregate there. Moreover, "the young man void of understanding," is there. Finally, the theatre is the favorite resort of "the strange woman, who forsaketh the guide of her youth, and forgetteth the covenant of her God; whose house inclineth unto death, and whose guests are in the depths of hell; who hath cast down many wounded; by whom many strong men have been slain; whose house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death."§ Such are the chief objections, which the great body of serious Christians have urged against theatres and theatrical amusements.

* 1 Cor. xv. 33.

t2 Tim. iii. 4.

+ Prov. vii. 7.

§ Prov. ii. 16-18; ix. 18; vii. 26, 27.

CHAPTER VII.

IMMORAL INFLUENCE OF SKEPTICISM.

LORD HERBERT, the first and purest of the English deists, who flourished in the beginning of the reign of Charles I., did not so much impugn the doctrine or the morality of the Scriptures, as attempt to supersede their necessity, by endeavouring to show, that the great principles of the unity of God, of a moral government, and a future world, are taught with sufficient clearness by the light of nature. Bolingbroke and some of his successors advanced much further, and attempted to invalidate the proofs of the moral character of the Deity, and consequently all expectations of rewards and punishments; leaving the Supreme Being no other perfections, than those which belong to a first cause, or Almighty contriver. After him, at a considerable distance, followed Hume, the most subtile, if not the most philosophical of the deists; who, by perplexing the relation of cause and effect, boldly aimed to introduce a universal skepticism, and to pour a more than Egyptian darkness into the whole region of morals. Since his time, skeptical writers have sprung up in abundance, and infidelity has allured multitudes to its standard; the young and superficial by its dexterous sophistry; the vain by the literary fame of its champions, and the profligate by the licentiousness of its principles. Atheism, the most undisguised, has at length begun to make its appearance in this country.

My object in this connexion is not so much to evince the falsehood of skepticism as a theory, as to prove its mischievous effects, contrasted with those which result from the belief of a Deity and a future state. The subject, viewed in this light, may be considered under two aspects, the influence of the opposite systems; I. On the principles of morals; II. On the formation of character. The first may be styled their direct, the latter their equally important, but indirect consequence and tendency.

I. The skeptical or irreligious system subverts the whole

foundation of morals. It may be assumed as a maxim, that no person can be required to act contrary to his greatest good, or his highest interest, comprehensively viewed in relation to the whole duration of his being. It is often our duty to forego our own interest partially; to sacrifice a smaller pleasure for the sake of a greater; to incur a present evil in pursuit of a distant good of more consequence. In a word, to arbitrate among interfering claims of inclination, is the moral arithmetic of human life. to risk the happiness of the whole duration of our being, in any case whatever, would be foolish, were it possible; because the sacrifice must, by the nature of it, be so great as to preclude the possibility of compensation.

But

As the present world, on skeptical principles, is the only place of recompense, whenever the practice of virtue fails to promise the greatest sum of present good, cases which often occur in reality, and much oftener in appearance, every motive to virtuous conduct is superseded; a deviation from rectitude becomes the part of wisdom; and, should the path of virtue, in addition to this, be obstructed by disgrace, torment, or death, to persevere would be madness and folly, and a violation of the first and most essential law of nature. Virtue, on these principles, being in numberless instances at war with self-preservation, never can, or ought to become a fixed habit of the mind.

The system of infidelity is not only incapable of arming virtue for great and trying occasions, but leaves it unsupported in the most ordinary occurrences. In vain will its advocates appeal to a moral sense, to benevolence, and sympathy; for it is undeniable, that these impulses may be overcome. In vain will they expatiate on the tranquillity and pleasure attendant on a virtuous course; for, though you may remind the offender, that in disregarding them he has violated his nature, and that a conduct consistent with them is productive of much internal satisfaction; yet if he replies that his taste is of a different sort, that there are other gratifications which he values more, and that every man must choose his own pleasures, the argument is at an end. Rewards and punishments, assigned by infinite power, afford a palpable and pressing motive, which can never be neglected without