and fairly give evidence against it as highly criminal, notwithstanding it prevails, even in the moral and religious world, to a very great extent. The inference, then, is this, that professing Christians, in general, are by no means sufficiently aware of the great, the infernal, the dangerous, the dreadful evil, which is so commonly entertained amongst them; and that whoever is at all convinced of living under the guilt, the ignominy, the bondage, and the wretchedness of such a disposition, should turn his attention more than ever to his state before God, as fraught with the vilest ingratitude to that Divine Saviour "who for our sakes became poor, that we through his poverty might be rich," and with the greatest inconsistency and hypocrisy, because it is coupled with the grave profession of the faith and hope of the Gospel, and supreme regard for spiritual and eternal possessions. But Christianity does not yet deprive him of all hope of mercy; she still addresses him, and says, "Repent, therefore, of this thy wickedness, and pray God, if perhaps the thought of thine heart may be forgiven thee." This same insulted Saviour may yet receive him graciously, and love him freely; washing him from all his sins, even from the loathsome taint of "filthy lucre," in the free and precious fountain of his own atoning blood.

"Extol not riches, then, the toil of fools,

The wise man's cumbrance, if not snare, more apt

To slacken virtue, and abate her edge,

Than prompt her to do aught may merit praise."

MILTON.

A

RATIONAL INQUIRY

CONCERNING

THE OPERATION OF THE STAGE

ON

THE MORALS OF SOCIETY.

Valeat quantum valere potest.

A

RATIONAL INQUIRY,

&c.

I. THE QUESTION STATED.

THE imitative arts instruct, or polish, or recreate the mind, chiefly through the medium of the pleasure they inspire. Their immediate object, therefore, is to move with delight; and for this they are well adapted in their own peculiar character and operation. To explain the reason of this pleasure, it is ingeniously observed by some celebrated critics,-that, in imitation, our instinctive love of knowledge is gratified, and our acuteness of discernment flattered, by discovering a resemblance between two things. A chief cause, perhaps, is the richness of two ideas instead of one, as in language where comparison or metaphor is employed. It may also be allowed, that the talent of the imitator strikes with much force; a force the most agreeable, exciting admiration, and disposing the mind to take a pleasing interest in any subject which the artist may choose to delineate. It is merely something peculiar in the subject itself, and in its circumstances, that can beat back the tide of pleasure which attends upon resemblance, and turn the whole into a scene of horror or disgust.

Imitation, then, will please different persons according to their different intellectual tastes, and moral habitudes and feelings. Still, in every instance, imitation tends to please. Hence the picture of a rotten tree, or an old house, subjects in themselves revolting, gives a charm to the fancy.

Shall we then allow that every thing may be imitated? Have such arts no bounds? May obscene prints, for instance, if

ingeniously executed, be allowably exposed to the public? Should "poison" be called the subject imitated, and "sweetness the imitation, could any one be so enslaved to pleasure as to swallow down a mixture of both?

Apply this to the theatre, which imitates human character and life. The pleasure here is allowed to be great. Poetry itself is rich in imitation. He, therefore, who personates a character by poetic expression and by action, presents a double enjoyment to the auditor. This, together with its splendid accompaniments, forms a compound of pleasures that cannot fail to fascinate; for pleasure, of one description or another, is the element in which mankind seek to dwell.

The intense charm of theatrical entertainments was the very reason why Plato deemed them dangerous, and on which he built all his objections to them. It is true, he was the wellknown enemy of poetry in general; but this does not subtract from the weight of his opinions when he offers them on argument. It only goes to say, that he was not always in the right, which, I presume, may be said of even the most distinguished patrons of the theatre; yet who would draw the conclusion, that, therefore, he was no authority?

Suppose, then, it be proper to imitate certain parts of human life, it will not be contended that all transactions really occurring, or of possible occurrence, may be publicly imitated. The position is too monstrous to be dwelt upon for a moment. The Greek rules of the drama itself point out some things which are forbidden to be acted; not merely because they are deemed poetically bad, but because they are morally so; nay, they are pronounced poetically vicious for the express reason that they are immoral.

The exhibition, however, of immorality, to some extent, is essential to the existing stage; for characters perfectly good, or good characters without bad ones associated in the same piece, would not possess probability; a circumstance which would destroy the illusion. Besides, without the excess and collision of certain evil passions, that dramatic interest or effect could not be produced, which is professed to be the grand excellence of the drama. A chief question then occurs,-How far may moral evil be thus exhibited with safety or advantage to society?

He who reasons on this question from what is peculiar to the authority and substance of the Christian system, as distinguished