The New York Herald Newspaper, April 29, 1857, Page 3

i FF it i F ti | i j | ig i sf J | | | dit fF i i 4 fl Hh ii i i i Hi i 2 | W f i E 5 f F I i i Ree § i Hi F [ E sry? i = 3 Fy 5 F z 4 i i Hig 4 fi tt i = i = AG Hi : : z t i i E i at with several broken guns. They appear to have hand to hand. bg inform your Excellency that we have driven Of the jnorth part of the State every Indian, and can present there is no Sioux in the Atate, unless it t if not be surprised to hear of I am satisfied that the greater number of Indians were from the Missouri, as they were etran- to the settlers where they appeared, and a por- them were half breeds. Never in the history of @ur country have so outrageous acts beon committed any people. We have no account of Indians com such outrages on females as they have done—no devdt committed by the half breeds. It is to be feared Q@mt they will repeat their depredations, if some measuree are not taken to prevent it. *y arc well armed and well wupptied with ammunition. They took seventeen kegs of rere, ‘its pucketiach ih- lends frome Wood's, at Spring- , burnt his store and killed bim, &c. We have a host @f destitute and wounded persons thrown upon us to pro- vide for, both from Little river and the Upper Dos ‘Mbines river, a8 well as our own frozen and disabled men. I forward this hasty and somewhat confused report: ‘will give another soon, more in detail, T instructed Capt. Richards, Mr. Morrison and others, to forward to you the affidavits, &c., to apprise you of our marching to relieve the froutiers, &, Very respectfully, yours, &¢. W. WILLIAMS. NEWA IN |WASHIINGTON. [From the Washington Union, April 25.} News reached this city By taleacengs rom St. Louiy to- @ay of a fight between the Pawnee Indians and the white bottlers vpon Salt river, which resulted in the death of one @f the settlers and several Indians, and the capture by the whites of thirteen Pawnees., These Indians are now, and Beve been for several years, extremely poor, and ‘in @ most deplorable condition of suffering and want. Accounts from their country received by the last mails represent them as ip a starving condition. So extreme is their poy: erty and suffering, that they have been comprlled to sub- in many instances upon the flesh of their children, Bk be supposed oy gentlemen familiar with their character Mbat tho late collision with the white settlers has been Brought about in consequence of the Indians killing rtock fo subsist upon in their despperate extremity. If this is he case, it will in some degree palliate what might wader circumstances be cousidered u great outrage on ihe ‘of the Indians. Fortunately for the people of Nebraska Territory, their able and efficient represcntative in Congres, Hon. B. B. Chapman, is nowsin this city, and we learn has already taken the’matier in hand, and called the atieution of tho government to it, and waked for such action in the pro- mises as will relieve them from any further trouble from Wat quarter. are gratified that feelings of the kindest charactor Chapman ue exist between Mr. und every de of the executive government, apd we are equally satisfied that gestions from him calculated relieve the people rritory from these unfortunate disturbanoes, and Detier the condition of the poor miserable Indiana, will moet with 4 favorable consideration. ‘The Turf, VNION COURSE, L. lem TROTTING. Monday, az usual for the past several wecks, was rainy fad disagreabie, yet notwithstanding the drawback, the Proprictors of the track were determined to have the purse advertised come off, ns postponing from day to day ‘woukd interfere with the regular business ; aud consequent y the race went on. There were three entries, viz— James Irving's bay mare Belle of Portland; Samuel Mo- Langblin’s b. g. General Darcy, and H. Woodrui’s gray mare without a name. The race war for & purse and stake, mile beats, best three tn five, in harness, and was won by the bay mare in two heats, she having distanced the gray mare, and Genera! Darcy belag withdrawn, having found it fasoless to contend against her. Belle of Portland is one of the finest young trotters that ever appeared on the turf, the me male under the circumstances, being unprecedented, fhe track being very heavy and wet. Her owner cetimate hher highly, and afer tho Giret heat offered to match her against any of the big ones. The race needs no deseription; ‘we therefore merely giveafummary— _ On Monday, April 2—purse and stake, Deet three in five, in harness. D. Phifer entered b. m. Bolle of Portland... 221 & McLaughlin entered b. g. General Darcy... 2 2 ar. B Woodruil entered g. m. -———— 8 dia arate ‘Theatrical and Musical. Broapwat Thnarw.—Movers. E. 1. Davenpert, J. W. Wales, &, Lanne ont Elmore; Mesdamess E. 1. & yekport and Ponisi, &e., are to in Shakepere’s “Ja- Bus Corsar’’ this evening, for the fit of the gentleman firet named. Mr. F. L. Davenport will alo play & Yankeo haracter (n “What on Airth is Goin’ On?’ Nuao’s Ganvux.—Rellini's opera of “Norma” ie to be gtven to-night, with Mme, Gazzaniga in the chief part, agported by Miss Caroline Richings (ber fret appearanse = York), ae Adalgisa, and Signor Arnoldi ne Groves. Signor Aseon{ will afterwards make hi debut in We burto pera of “Cotumelia.”” Rownay Trxarae —The revival of the famous equestrian qprtecene drama of “Putnam bas been reepondrd wo by patrons of this ertabiivhment in a manner thet cannot De aherwise than gratifying to the management. It #0) Be repeated this evening, in conjunction with Mr. Jobu ton’ drama of “Fate.” Berton's.—Mr. Durivage’s comedy, based on the cele = rena te adhe 8 called i ap ny s” eto oy @ cast embracing the chie! talent a company. Mr. Burton will afterwards personae hie great character of Paul Bhack, lo Ue leugkebl farce wtyled ‘Master's Rival.’” Watack’s.—Mr. Brougbam's renowned burlesque of Poca hon-tas,"’ which had euch « lengthy roo when first at this house, ir to be revi wh Ube screed ,” another favorite, is ala annunerd. Lawns Kanwe's.-—The pow draroa ee ee enti’ om | Question,” upon which we commented st ome length yerterday, tt to be repeated this evening. Mr. @. Jordan bas an excellent charseter in Soy, and A te adh Ee og Movsrs. Wheatieigh, ann * ives” will be given for the forty shirt bra : H Fa (Cumert axp Wooo's Moran, whoee hal! will ere feng be exchanged for one that it is hoped will de large aocommodae Weir wamerows friends, wnder a wongs and the mughable Caroe of Kew ” for one. Buoxurr's Sxaxnapins have lately cat neversl , including @ fuvenile Puiopian wonder, called 45 of which have proted highly ratinfer- Soha Foun’ y auditor. Wor this evening they offer the Folks’ Concert,” he “Heture Wallery,’’ &o. ‘Tere Bevast Baornres, whose peculiar method of dotoy ‘Eihiopian eccentricities has teadered them “dard facts’’ a iechanion’ Holl, offer another budget of whimeicalitios, neloding the very “Hesence of Old Virginuy,’’ “Lown to Alnbatoa,”’ &e. el Guanes The bey A hE a Se crowded to night by persone deairour of witnens ‘ed by the seven negro sinner fresh from Alabama, who hope to gain thar freedom by #ozing. ‘Tun Raves —Nurtperous families, particularly és fore mile thereof, will nodoubt De mach gratified to warn Manador Nibio has consented to give an after noon entertainment, in which tho reuowned Revels and air talented @uxiliaries will appear, next My Intelligence. Ten Vases. —The dewutifal mammoth eleamehip Vandorbitt will be ekwerl From eisitation afier this @ay, in ardor to prepare ber for ber roysee. . Fine ov Brews Sersam.Cluortiy after four Poknk yhator NEW YORK HERALD, WEDNESDAY, APRIL 29, 1867.—TRIPLE _ REV. DA, BELLOWS ‘ON THE DRAMA. Demonstration at the Aca- . demy of Music. Blaberate Eessy on the Relation of Public Amusements with Public Horality, Great Muster of Actors, Actresses and Managers, The Choreh Criticised—Good Advice to the Theatrical The Immoral 20, &., ao. The Rey. Dr. Bellows provounced bis address upen “The Relation of Pablic Amusements with Public Morali ty,” at the Academy of Music laet evening. The audience ‘Was bot #0 pumerous as had been expected, and an exti- mate of fifteen hundred persona in attendance is Hberal. Among this audience we ebserved many of our best known citizens, The stage was chiefly occupied by persons con Bected with the theatres. We noticed Mr. Wallack, Mr Stewart, the lessee of Wallack’s theatre, Mr. Blake, Mr. Thomas Placide, Miss Laura Keene, Mr. and Mra. W. J. Florence, Mr. Dyott, Mr. Charles Howard, Mra. Jobo Buckland, and many other well known actors and act- resses and managers. Mr. James T. Brady, the President of the Dramatic Pund Association, presided, and introduced the Rey. Dr. Bellows, who proceeded to address the audience. The address, which occupied two hours in its delivery, was listened to with profound attention, only broken by frequent bursts of applause. At its close the reverend genUeman received the beartest congratulations and thanks from the persona for whose especial benefit wag delivered. The following is the ADDRESS OF THE REV. DR. BELLOWS. As Tam about to ask the attention of a promiscuous au- dience to a long discourse, I must at the outset guard you from disappointment, by stating distinctly the objects and nature of my address, It is the argument of @ serious man, whose aim {s the public good, with serious on the claime of public amusement in general and the in particular; and this argument is conducted as in the wesence of the dramatic profession and in their behalf. ly purpose would be greatly misunderstood if I were Fupposed to be reasoning with society in general, or with men and women of the world. It is the sober an gious portion of the community I address. It is their op!- nions and prejudices J] controvert. 1 shall venture to speak of the religious community as a class; not intending to claim or admit that all the piety and serupulosity of so- ciety is in {ts keeping; not pretending that all members of it share {ts characteristic opinions aud prejudices, but with the assumption that it has characteristic opinions in regard to aznusements and the theatre which need investi- gation. Into this argament with tho religions class 1 proposs to weave a criticism of the atage, and such hints to the dramatic profession a3 my poor wisdom can suggest. Having, then, the double object to accomplish, of address- ing cerious people in the presence of actors, and actors in the presence of serious people, I shall doubtless sometimes gay what is pertinent only to one of these classes, without always intimating which it is. I must beg the audience to keep the ditficulty of my task in mind, while I throw my self on their diserimination, indulgence and patience. I shall be a little dull at the etart, but boldly promise to interesting as I proceed. gin, then, with assortng that there {a nothing essen- tlally wrong in the stage, or in the player’s vocation; noth- ing which should necessarily place the theatre under the ban of the church, or the dramatic profession aside from honest callings; or which demands their supp! ically injurious and wuchristian In saying thus much, Tsay w? and thoughtful christians, bot short, what the class J particularly addre pudiate. ‘The stage with them is the most esse mg of all institutions, because it is the most attractive, ling and Complete of public amusements; aud all pub: lic amnusements—not to Bay amusement in 'general—fa!l under their sincere and earnest suspicion and christian Jealously. How ouch, then, the theatre? This, then, w nce of amusement as the princi ple, that the di tage aust begin, if the class 1 am arguing with ix to be reached. If amusement bo wrong in the principle ; if to forget care, duty, death the future, for any hour of the day, be dan —if not tobe uninterruptedty engaged in conterpl and advancing the moral and serious interests of ti culpable and offensive to Christianity—if fun, frol laughtor, fest, humor, wit, the excitement of social inter Course und tho indulgence of the lighter and guyer tastes of human nature, have no legitimate times and places, and no important and indiepensable offices, then, of course, it is useless to talk of defending the most amusing of all amusements, But Tnow stand here to maintain and to show that amusement is not only a privilege but a duty, indispensable to health of body and mind, and essential even {» the best developement of religion itself, For what tei? Kis the play of our nature when temporarily re- joased from toil apd anxiety. Ite very essence is absence of painful effort and§ serious thought, absorption in the eseut, to the forgetfulness of the past and the future. Nothing amuses which does not make a man forget bim- self, by calling into controlling activity pleasurable thought and emotions. Now, life is essentially tolling and anxious. It is made so by outward circumstances and inward constitution. It is our glory that we are made w work and to think anxiously and soberly. The Durden which nature puts upon our shoulders tn calling us into & world that does not epontaneously produce its fruits, ‘and into a crowded and competitory society, is one that proases into action the energies and faculties of body and wou! a® Dething else could. But what is this burden, com pared with that which God has laid upon ug in our ra onal and moral nature, in our appetite for know- ledge, love of pow © of righgt, fear of death, hope of heaven? The vast etimalus which our phy: rical and moral wants, our bodily and mental pas- sions, give to onr nature, makes life to most men toilful, anxious, serious and sad. And this is what life must be and ongbt be. This is what Christianity labors to make it ring up the duties und obligations of but graver hopes and fears before it, call or and more difficult aim, it multiplies the ess and sadness of life. He eeply, work harder, in view s new ol tion to Ged and to men. And in this earnest work, and deep emotion, and wider sympathy, he finds the ral dignity and glory of bis being He who does not work, think, feel, is « degraded, lost and misera bie woul. The man, the rule and order of whose life ix ot work, atxie priournes®, if & poor creature on hin way W noventity, or worse, to moral ruin aud future mi er nk more, feel more fow, thé trae quertion Is, how #hall humanity do nest work, support mort anxiety, have tho mnoat genuine rioushess? Experience hae taught us that neither buty nor mind ran Mand an unbroken strain, and we are leurt ing by degrees that the conscience, will and aspirations require rep and rest as much ae [ntellect and muscle. ‘The Creator hae accordingly endowed us with variou facuitier, tates apd seneibilities which have a spontanrous activity, whose object seems to be ly to delight nud amuse, Independently of their more verious useg, be has indeed attached a pleavure te the exercise of all our facul tes; but rome of them seem to have for their manifeet end nietib! Jeasure to ourscives or others, Laughter, the irre propensity of youth, ie, we know physiological ntly conducive t health of the body, which it exe ses in & tent and universal inannor; and, unqaestiona. iy, humor, which f the inner side of laughter, is equally ftaind. Our sense of Uae beautiful, t witty; our tutte for music, fowers, apecta- . At of food, society, metion; our love of Sport, of the fields, of games ; all these ineradicable taetes evidently have & mision, nay, eeveral offices; firet and chietly, perhaps, toconfer a positive and unepeak able eum of pleweure, « substantial benefacton of Providence, which it would be impiety not to recognize und gratefully own ; but secondly, to qualify, correct and froprove the operation and product of the more eolid and utilitarian functions of hurnanity, but thirdly, t reet, cheer and invigorate mind and heart thet we may more abun dantly and eureors‘ully purrue the toll, and bear the anxie Ges of Life, and achieve its moral and epiritual ends. Thun to work bet. man must play a due portion of the time; to bear the heaviest burdens, he must have bis heart lightened now and then; to think most profoundly, he murt pot think foo etadily. When the the world, oa any plea of prudene, or wirdom, or conscience has over looked these princpies, religion and morality have entter ea. In former Umes’ monasteries and nunneries, caves and pillars held the pare fanaticn and ultraiets, the idiots land hypocrites whom violated nature eent there. Now in ane ac yluui- aid hoe ptals sbeiter the victims furnished for their ceils hy De headlong sobriety and mad earnest ne of business, which knows no pleasure, or, of gtudy which Glows no cexsstion, oF of cop poionce wed piety whieh frowe an amusement; while te morb\d morality, the thin wisdom, the jaundiced edection:, the wretched dyepeneia, the wreck and defratot body end eoul, which @ community defictent in outdoor eparts, = society or fegiumate galety exhibite t the thought feleze, Wy bardiy bers aaddecung thas die hoxpisal or owed Amusement, then, te oot merely defensible, The want of ft lem culamity and an jury to the nober aod solid interests of norirty, None are more truly inte. rested.-id they know clr own duty and poriey—in esnused, than ef than ister, for the ctoltion of the laws tore! health; and tat tho suppression of careless and piearure craving propen itie’ of aptitader of our nature, involves an inevitable mt and wure decay of the higher on, and faculties. Lnetead, there fore, of tutertoring with buinesr, duty, sobriety, pleyy— rte, and reverence amin 7 a 3 With erbowrship, seomeny, cirtoe, ent, viewed merely ae a ple, advancer aut Fup ‘them wil. The & ph rf works more ly and to better results, for eet of thedime; the heart that t¢ gay for serious for the other Boers of the da) reposes for a apace le morn active thet rests & more | wirained, ‘You seo, then, rien and notdbe lumuriet of life Lake vigorous than the will that fe always that I pet arousersent among the mane wa which wae 14908 D0} Inhae the bone &o4 ADeW, Dut anpplien the round. Lewd ‘at and moisture of the as oe sire nines tbe adr re of reigion LTT avons ene wel fecration, wi pleasure in every form Gers dificult; that it attaches tothe world those whom piety is seeking to detach from the world—produces giddi- Rexs where religion would give sobriety, and promotas self forgetfulness and indifference in those whom God's word is seeking to make thoughtful and anxious. Many good and wise people who have not the least idea of seeing amusement go out of fashion, and who would confess that what Shemsetves call maneant aaaanement is neges- ygitimate; w! at the spor oung chi game or the ekater's fight, dhe, walk in at the country, the puting party,a game at chequera or pe pn Bg AE pe felon g ng pathy, nevertheless resist the principle of amusement, lesa under any conces- sion of its lawfulness excees rhould tind shelter. There is, however, no greater mistake in the world than to imagine that, taking neraole ing er, the love of amuse- ment & an overweening of humanity. Doubdess {tis the ruin of a class, felfishness, the root ef de- Pravity,and the mother of human evils, tinds {ts chief outlets and manifestations in the serious and anxious P +ons of men;—in cupidity, the love of power, envy, f= ousy and malice, Outof the grand desire to appropriato wealth, power, place, or to avoid want, submission and injury,'spring ihe woret characteristics of society. . False- hood, fraud, violence, anger, cunning, slander, meanness, apathy, vice and crime, originate in selfishness, which is ordinarily unsocial, stern, eober laborious, and as far as possible from pleasure or diversion. Inwead of being kelf forgetful, disposed to relaxation, playful or gay, it i3 sullen, intropepective, tightly girded, and in no mood for delight. For certainly we must not confound things dif. ferent, and call. the grim satisfaction with which the miser pursue? hie gains, the tyrant his victims, te rogue his prize; with which envy surveys the mortification of a com- petitor, or hatred the misfortune of an enemy, or jealousy the pang of a rival—amurement. Nor are the viees of society, drunkenness, lust and gambling, to be placed hg the relaxations and amusements of mankind. They are the serions and bor- rible outbreaks of lawless appetites, which do nothing to recreate but ouly to destroy. If they are often found in on with the pleasures of the world, they are just found in absolute separation from them. “In- deed, the lack of the wholesome excitement of pleasure: je commonly seen producing the noxious excitement of i d intemperance, lust and gambling have devasta- ted communities in which public diversions have bean scrupulously forbidden. It is a terrible fact that the first hundred years of Puritanism in New England was marked alike by ascetic public manners and the prevalence of vices almost unbeard of in our free and more indulgent and it is even pow asserted that the soberat of ‘rT States contributes more than any other State tn the Union to the sad catalogue of female frailty. There is hardly a more baleful error inthe world than that which has produced the feud between morality and amusement, piety and pleasure. By presenting as the mark for reprobation the recreations instead of the eins of society—by confounding amusements with vices—the mo- ral fecling of the world has been wastefully diverted from its opposition to absolute wrong and depraving affections, into opposition to things innocent, indifferent, or hurtful only in excess; and thus a very mischieyeus confosion has been introduced into the natural and the Christian con- science of evil. Consider the thick darkness, the absence of interior light and moral order, which is Ukely to rel in asou! that has been instructed to put dancing, and the frequentations of shows, spectacles and balls tuto the «ame disallowance and reprobation in which lying, clander, ha- tred and unchastity are kept, aud to reckon the love of fun, gaiety and social excitement as a depraved and sa- tanic atle What but mora! confusion, secret protest, insidious revenges, private vices, latent skepticlem, and laxity in directions net open to observation or suspicion, can result to many from such uvwarranted and un- natural classifications? Jt is true the second genera- tion often pays the penalty of the asceticism of the first but the tirst usually has aroinious pity on iteelf, and treats its resolution in dark and deadly ways. We cannot afford to waste our moral feeling, our sensibility to sin, our pow- ers of self-control and of ‘resistance, upon false issues or on artificial sins. We want ail the tenderness and all the energy of conscionce—all the amenableness of duty, all the fear of God, we have or can cultivate, wherewith to encounter real eins—the actual temptations of the devil, the positive wrongs to which haman life aud character aro ry artificial wrong, everything pronounced innocent, every restraint volunteered, every self-denial which ig Unnecessary, is a positive weakening ‘our moral forces—ammunition ‘used np ina sham fight, when the real enemy is just at our doors. It is no uscor. mon thing, therefore, to see asceticism accompanied by cruelty to others, sanctimoniousness associated with sour- ness of heart and separatences from the world, or discust sud contempt for its pleasure, offset with spiritual pride, harshness of judgment and malignity of temper, It will not’ answer, then, for the religious clues to hold amusements or pleasure responsible for that depravity of md insensibility of conscience and heart which o justly deplore. They had much better egotism, pride, covetousness, indolonce, appetite, t Ment passions and desires of men in directions Where the natural conscience and the grace of God will as- sist and sustain their onset. It is not in the atausementa, but in the serious occupations of society—in business, do- mestic cares and collisions, rivalries and competitions of interest, conthets and strifes of fealing, in bursts of passion, or secret, unsocial vices, that reverence, obedience, the love of trath and virtue and God are lost. Nor has morality or religion in any business to indulge its own lsaiuess and lack of discrimination, . denouncing in the gross what bas a mixture of good and evil in it; or to affect, from po- licy, @ disapprobation of the principle of amusement, when it only at heart condemns certain kinds and degrees of it. Such want of frankness and truth involves the proper cen- sors of manners in suspicion and contempt, and finall puts the recreation of the world, where unhappily mu < it pew ig, in open defiance of piety or disgust for the ureh. Tam not here to deny or conceal the exposure to excesr, fend actual lapse of the young into excess, in the love aud pursuit of pleasure. Fhe moment that it becomes anything more than @ relaxation from toil—the unbending of & bow kept ordinarily at its «train, the exeeption and not the rule, the leisure of the busy, the fun of the serious, the play of the worker, uh if forgetfulners of the thoughtful, the re. creation of the w y wd exhausted—it is in excess. Hut things are pot to be abandoned because their use requii Judgment and selfcontrot, The best things are most open w abuse, and amusement, like food, love, power, movey, requires to have the dangers of its pursuit pointed out, but not its lawfulness or its innovency, in it place and Gegree, denied or concealed. It being established, then, that arousement is not a thing t be afraid of; that it is & good and not an evil, a neces ty and not @ luxury of civilization; an interest of society, which the religious class, instead of regarding with hos Ulity and jealousy, ought to encourage and direet, J come next to inquire what place the stage has among the as ments of society, aud what tides it has to the counteannes A werious people, 1 suppose tt would not for a moment he denied that if the theatre were compatible with Christian sobriety, it would be the mest complete and Bileresting of all amas ments. Nothing but scruples af conscience and @ fear of countenancing @ seductive pleasure keep even the most wber portions of the community from an occasional visit fo the play house. I must except, of course, those who by disuse of their sensibility to ploasure haye los the power ef being amused, aul thoes whose original tempe Tament ix constitutionally averse to pleasure, But those, few of many, must not mistake their defects for advan tages. It is a inueh greater misfortune not to bave the or dinary taste for arnusementthan it is not to have dhe ordi wary ear for music, That must be a stopid netare that does not powerfully feel the attractiveness of the stage, when ccoupted by 6uch persons wi Garrick, Talma ané th: Kembles; and, pur from what must offend the Gute or lence of good men, the stage filled with mode. poe Com performers, would allure and gratify thousand: of and discreet people, as nothing eise could. The in diferent performances of ainsteury are listened to with an intense gratification, which, «fier deducting all the interest of personal eympathy with the volunteers, demonrates the inberemt charm of the ‘There was never @ dia- logue spoken in & echool exhibition @wbich was not ten times a8 exciting ae any monologue, and every eddiutcns! person added to the scene increaved {te fascintion in « geometrical ratio. If & few rags of scenery or coe tume were thrown the performers, how po- tently was the eharm enhanced? In short, in precise proportion to #0 @pprosch to the public’ elage ww the amusement complete. Rut why Unga on sw plain a point? The stage ts most win. bing Of amusements, because the combination and aguregate of ail others.’ The theatre is iteelf @ raaguifioent piace—the wadience n front party in hecoming «tire. If there were nothing behind the curtain—an elegant room, brilliantly ghted, with grocefl tere of gnlaries, full of ‘well dressed people in gond humor, und eeated in ‘knote of acquaintances, talking, bowing, or gazing, admiring and being edmired—would be fascinating to the sora! wad wathetic inctinete of human beings. But there is more than this, even outside the curtain, A great orchestra of music, Capablo— by it own Gnalded powern—of delighting Besides « social ‘concert— an audience. © grand and the curtain not yet risen. tnt tbe curtain rives and ing an eloquent nar- highty cultivated volce? tek the st point dieplaye—what? A gifted person, read: fative, or a tnclodious poem, in « ludeed would deo high i is j hs Ft ite i u a : j a ure, should prove nniveraally and ‘attractive: he rama condenwen bat it r ne koowe might be Sbitnicee eeparmet sia: ectue) coamery, fer % invokes gited men ? +3 nt Unites the t spectacle, calls emotional and on our critical faculties; now Snviti yield to the illusion, now to admire the skill which deludes us; it adds to the sympathy we fee) for the persons repre- sented; that we feel with who represent them; that we feel for the genius which made them Fi table; and spere, Hamlet and Garrick all pall at our heart strings in one delicious moment of admiration and symp thy. Poetry, invention, story, mimetic talent, elocation, Pereonation, spectacle, beauty, passion, architectnre, paint- Ang, Music, society ‘bt, all combine in the theatre to make it the most ‘ant, complete and untiring of public amusements, Now I am not pretending, you peroeive, that the charm Or attractivenass of the stage depends firey and mainly upon its morai teaching, or its moral i Amiyse- ment esos its quality when instruction becomes its object, and it would be very delusive to anticipate that people would attend the theatre for educational purposes, or cease ; to attend #t because it were proved uninstructive. | The in struction to be got from the drama or the Atage must always be incidental, and perfectly subordinate to the pleasnre got from them. Ido not doubt that there is potent instraction and moral influence in Hamlet, Macbeth, the Tempest, the Gamester, the Hunchback, Uncle Tom’s Cabin, the Rent Day, But ifthe satisfaction and pleasure. of seein, these plays depended upon their moral influence, or i their performance could be fustiiod only by their’ direct ‘arefa! to Morals, I fear 1 should lose my case with’the serious lass. Consilering the moral necessity of being happy, it is the various, whiolesone and immense amount of pleasure and recreation which the theatre gives that first eulisis me in its support. It amuses so Jarge a part of our humanity, amuses the senses and the soul, It calls out, to gratity ‘and refresh them, sensibilities and passions which the ordinary life of the world does not bring {1ito play, and thus rests the other and earnest powers and feelings of our nature. Removing us from the region of the actual to that of the ideal, from the sphere of the com that of the extraordinary and artistic, it changes our workt and ourselves, draws upon an entirely new set of powers and sensibilities, while it allows the old ket to go to sicep, and thas to repair their waste, while the virclo of oar developement is com| All amusement does this, and the theatre only more cause it is the most amuring of amusements. It rests and recreates by culling into more pleasing and intense activity the qualities, aifactions, emotions, ordinarily dormant in the work day life of society. There, instead of ministering we are ministered unto; instead of ‘acting we are acted for; instead of planning’ and scheming we are watching plans and schemes; instead of feeling for ourselves we are feeling for others; instead of wiling after a distant Consummation we ure enjoying a consummation which is perfected Iu five ncts, Our love of beauty, harmony, heroism; our eympathy with daring, patriotism, passion? our love of hght, form, color, €legance, splendor ; our admiration for genius, talent, skill; all’these sensibilities, which in actual, plodding life, mercantile, domestic or professional, get litle exercise or indulgence, are in the theatre ministered to, aud gratitiod in a Way which recreatrs our common nature. The use of the theatre (anpposing it free from moral ob Jection, which I by no means assume), is that it gives so much pleasure, which is a positive and large addition to the general sum of butnan happiness; and that in giving this pleasure, it eatisties un itamense need of recreation, and, quite independently of any direct influence on the Moral interests of society Pbuilds up, and supports, and cheers the life and soul of man, Idate not make light of pleasure. God has taken toe benevolent an interest in pro dueing it, and there is too much pain, und drudgery, and necessary cure to be offset by it, to allow me to think it a small thing, that any considerable faass of human beings are pleased. 1 will not demand of amusement that it shill directly instruct, warn, elevate or improve. If it give genuine pleasure, and if it do not corrupt, deprave or in Jare, I will bless it, and without a single misgiving invoke the benediction of Heaven on its head. Do not, then, per versely read backwards ail that has been suid of the fusei- nation of the theatre, as if it were so much against it, and not so much in itsfavor. If it shall afterwards appear that the stage has essential {mioralities and perils to so- ciety and the soul, wrought into its very nature, and in separable from it, then wo will allow that its attractive ness is a misfortune ; its various charms those of & eyren that woo to destruction; and that genius, art, Beauty and splendor, have conspired, in the theat make vice seductive and folly captivating. But £ eub mit that, in the theory of the stage (a very diftereat thing, possibly, from the taet,) we have yet found nothing to condenm—nothing essentially wrong, or otherwise than right. There is nothing wrong in amusement except in excess, nor in the theatre, the finest of amusements. The dramatic faculty is divinely implanted, It gives lite and Tenlity even to portions of the scriptures. The draiua ls « species of literntare which the world’s greatest geniuses have chosen (or their own, gaining imamorul renown for their Inbors there. The ‘stage is the drama tnade more real, aud brought within the easier and full enjoyinent of the best and the poorest judges. Sv far we are in emooth water. But the breakera begin to threaten us at the very bext etop. t is alleged—and that is the profeesed sentiment of the serious Clase——that practically the drama has been a cor: rupt and corrupting kind of literature, putting into licen tious and depraving verse and story the worst and most seductive experienors of humanity; that it has pandered tw vile and pas ad tastes, dramatists having often or urually been loose and unprinct ied charactorr, aud their readers the more gay and careless portion of society. Doubtless there is truth, and there is also in this rtate- ment. rp oe dramatists, whether ancicnt or modern, ipides, or Aristophanes, Calderon, Lop Racine, Shakepeare, are, with the coarseness wi belonged to their Feepective Coy! not open to such charger, although the minor lights unquestionably deserve severe chastise ment. But there is nothing peculiar in the abuse of dramatic literature. We do not abandon and discoun tenance poetry, because Rochester wrote immoral verses, and Moore and Ryron, poems which nobody should read. up Richardeon, and Scott, and INekens, eray, because Fielding and Smoliett, Bugeno Boe and Dumas, have often abused their great powers. ‘The best things ure most open toabuse; and dramatic literature, you will confess, has not been oftener or worse exception perverted and depraved thau’religious literature, Indeed, the Church seized on the drama, when she was most busy in manipulating the human mind {nto superstition, and perpetrated greater blasphemies and obsce called Mysteries, written and acted in the middle than the dramatic writers of England or France have e' foisted into their most ubominable playe, The drama is & kind of Kiteratare whore permanency is guaranteed by the constitution of man, Beginning with the very origin of Iterature, and continuing thus far on ite history with every promise of ending only with its life—wo mut expect it to reflect and share the fortunes of humanity and to find it- self, now tn the hands of ennobled, nud now of desecrated: genius; here the instrument of the unscrupulous, there the vehicle of truth, honor, and inspiration. Sut bow many dissolute and depraving dratatiets and dramas would not the judicious and the conscientious consent to ‘bear with aud guard against sooner than love Shaks- hcg out of the world? The mischievous jack-o- , and false lights of land and sea may shine on for ever, iif we can only extinguikh them by Dlowing out the wtars and quenching the ain. We cannct obliterate Washington, to wipe Arnold out of American history, though treachery hung by hin ekirte alone to the fortancs of the race. We mut let the tare grow to the harvest for the sake of the wheat. Tho drama stands in its own it, and in the right of oem priests, the wonderful humanity, great recreators of the the and criminals who have dese: and J abrine cannot tnake it nature than lawful and honorabie, and entitied to the Non of universal reason wod jurtice. It |e indeed de. hat the writien drama should have ever thrown fascination around vice aud crime, ae it is always tor- rible when genius and wit, when «rt and si service of the devil. Most sad itis that plearure ever be assoriated with folly, ce amusement extracted from sip. But literature is net reepousible for tho abuses: of its powers: and it is not the drama, bot the public and Chie dramatic authors who are to be censured for the production and emoourage- ment of lax, immoral and corrupting plays. On this point Ishal peak more fully and to betlor advantage at auother period of thir address. And now, if, whatever the theory may be, the drama iteif hae been lly degraded and abused a a ope cles of popular bli! sober and discreet people, te @ class, have thought [t wie and nececsary to diseoun tenance the reading of play», how much more ouglat the Face; and its He a i R p ? 53 t f 3 Fe z 2? y E 32 * aza 3 aff if Hi ES if nll ~~ $s aE aa i of order, portly, industry end to be the very emeence of |, temptation and sin—wn institution to cluded to the latest motnat oe Coe] COM MMNIty=ntn be ayeided hy all A Mio citiaens, and under the epecia! ban of formal reli- E100, Ae the devil's own domain, the very gate of hell? Now, T have « profound though « SHEET. the theatre, has many painful sloments Tdeheve equality that Hoxhinits much wagance, confusion and ilingical reasoning. More Barticularly, 1 consplain, that this verwict leaves entirely out ioe view the wees of the theatre, considering only ita abuses; chat tt tales no paws to what is good in ite eagerness to point out what is evi to discriminate Detween what is essential and what is accidental in this institution: that i¢ confounds the evils around, with the evils within the theatre, and, to come directly to the point, fails to inquire and explain why, and by whose fault, an’ in accordance with what law, it Is that the immorality and recklessness of society, its folly and vice, have clustered about the theatre. Ide not deny the fact, but I deny the totally condemnatory inferences drawn from the fact. For im truth the theatre js the very place where, for no fault inherent in itself, the preexisting follies snd vices of socty will necessarily become apparent. We do hot expect to tind the follies and vices of society Jevity and ease of a community gathering round schools and colleges, workshops and churches, scones of habor and care, any more than we expect to tind ities settling upon rhubarb and aloes, and not on molasses and honey. But tt would be quite as’ reasonable to give up sugar be: ‘cate vermin are fond of It as to give up pleasure be cause fools and knaves, the light aud the wicked, make it their chiet foood, Because folly spends his whole time in laughter, robriety does not propose t disuse the risible muscles; because drunkenness ruins thousand#, and glut- tony tens of thonsands, virtuous society doves not expect give up eating and drinking, One very large class of th tably and indis-olnbly ase propensitie Wis of perils of humanity is inevi- ated with tts pleasure loving ence of pleasure to nll con- science to sleep, and threw humanity off ite atutude of re- knees, but its strength; ite use It it did sistance, This is not ite and charm come of it carelensnes# and abandan, not do thir it would not be the recreation of soc! men were thinking of their duty, or their business, discipline, of judgment to come, of serious and soleinn con. cerns in theiramusements, they would straightway become no longer amusements, but trying occupations. It ts, of course, then, of the very nature of pleasure to expose and. try the character; the ers of resistance are relaxed; the mind and heart are left to the impressions of the time and seene, Just here, then, ts the place where the positive, tan gible vicew of society must appear, or rather, one great class of them—those that affect the senses. But this by no means: settles the character of pleasure, any more than itwetules the character of the gustatory nerve, that If it did not give us pleasure to eat_there would be no gluttony ; to drink, wo in- temperance } The pleasure of eating and drinking 18a uni- ‘al and pogitive blessing, and not to be ascribed ly, With some utilitarian philosophers, to the necessity of sapplying men with a motive for labor, but to the Creator's henevolent desire to communicate happiness. If the love of pleasure, dangerous as {t is, were taken from humanity, if pleasure itself were destroyed, consequences would ensue, vastly more demoralizing and fatal than any now preceeding from its ab ‘And when we are dwell ing exclusively upon tte evils of pleasure in any of ite forms, it would correct some of our extravagance to stop and meditate a while upon its crigin, ita uses and ite pe ceseity. The attractiveness of the theatre, even to vice and folly, is nothing against it, until it can be proved that they are attracted there by what is bad and depraving. It is not enongh to show that they carry there what is bad and de- praving, or that they are not keptaway by what is bad und depraying there, but that they are attracted by what is bad and depraying. I suppose them to be attracted pre- cisely by what would attract me or you, or any innocent or well-intentioned person—by the love of pleasure, spec: tacle, society, talent, beanty, light, architecture, and I suppose them to be very innocent so far as the enjoyment of these things is concerned, That, knowing their pre- gence, and coarseness or unscrupulousness, the stage should cater to it, is a monstrous evil; that folly and weak ness should tind those waiting for them there to practice on their propensities; that they should carry their vices aud tastes to the theatre with them is a dreadful and un- deniable misfortune to society. But Tam yet to seo how, because the wicked and the careless like what the good and the careful also like—namely pleasure—it makes plea. sure wrovg; and how, because the theatre, in its character of an amusement, attracts the vicious and the depraved, it proves It to be a vicious and depraved amusement. Have the vicious and depraved no human and universal tastes left? Are they not sti!l men and women? Aro not some of their doings und feelings auch ag the good and the {innocent can share? For my own part I believe the thea- tre has in every age exhibited the vices and follies of 80. ciety rather than created them, nnd that it has owed its reputation for evil, mainly to the fact that it hax beon the ‘only place in which the decency, or virtue, or oropriety of society has met the indecency, the vice and disreputable nest.” Now, ifthe theatre had ‘produced this indecency, vice or digreputabloness, or encouraged it, we should wu terly condenin it; but I Believe, on the contrary, notwith- standing ite imperfect administration, tt has done sem thing to correct it. Perhaps the most innocent hours of the vicious have been those in which they were publicly amused under the protection of society. For the ivnocent pleasure, which vice and folly get out of their exis- tence, is the only part of their career we can look at witli any satiefaction; all else whatover the ef i having nothing essentially wrong in its princ ing proved itself to De, in fact, what in theo hos alreae day shown itself to be, the most attractive and permanent of atnusements, w fixed and indestructible fact, it seems to me, that avowed moralists and Christian leaders and guides have committed a grave aud hurtful error in their mode of dealing with it. They have made the drama and the stage anewerable for all the vices and follies which have gathered round them—a course as unjust as to make the market responsible for the dog» and rate, the thieves snd knaves, sure to find a harvest in that most frequented and necessary place 1 know it will be replied that patience with evils con nected with what is necessary, doos not justify patience with evils associated with what is not necessary; that be cause commerce makes & dangerous life for railors we are notto place the dangerous life for actors, which the theatre produces, tpox the same plea of @ great sockal ne- comsity; that the Vices end follies of trade, of religion, of domestic life, all of which are cardinal, and necessary nnd gatural interests of bumanity, do not stand at ail upon the same ground of absolute nance which the vices and follies of an artificial, unproductive, and unne- cessary amusement occupy. But there are various forms of nocossity, and Lam not sure that the necessity of being amused is not ws fixed and fata! @ necessity as that of being fod and warmed. Tt is not necevsary in the same senso, and yet it may be equally a necessity, We do not com- monly place leisure, laughter, love among the necessaries of ite, alongeide of bread and water, fire and shelter, Yet in'a broad view of social interests and human require. ments, they would be found t rank with them, not in the eame class, but under the same pane of actual hocessaries of @ true, healthful and vigorous social life. That may well be gaid to be necessary, which, ago aflor age, and $n precise proportion to the intluence of civilization, and even of Christianity, is found supported and sustained in the very face of the church and nnder the formal ban ‘of religious society, Thatthe theatre ha» survived the ithas received from the pulpit and the moraiist, ex fat least ius wonderful vitality; and when we per- that general censure anil discouragement hare not or has been, We, and hav- fie slightest effect either in putting it down, or in improv ing it, why do we not bogin to inquire w! ht be done by treating it with candor and sympathy, itt ases, and correct its Abuses; to turn (ts fascinations to the ne count of human happiness, and detach tt from the artificial associations which are the Teal objects of ovr susptelon and dislike? When T convider that eight theatres are open in this city for six nigh of every werk; that they are constantly fre quented, though in very different degrees , by all claser of the community, except a portion of those technically styled prevessors of religion; that the tastes, morals, manners, pyiness of hundreds of thoasands of people ure aff by them for good or evil, to a degree which almost readers the theatre « rival to the church, I oonfess that the vast neas Of this metropolitan interest Is too eertous an element in our whole civie character and human prospects, to make Me Willing to ignore it; or, the hope of crushing it being preposterous, to wllow ine to vit cay while It remains hoa. tile tw morality, or ig open competition with religion. 1 must, for my pence sake, cee what of good it is that jyres life to this sturdy tree, which has been #0 long To with the Nghtnings of the church, and still eurrives in greenness. I must do what I can to direct the efforts of piety and morality againet what is vulnerable tn the thea- tre, that their arrows may no longer be wasted upon its adamantine portions. 1 must strive to obtain « truce between the theatre and the chureh, the dramatic world anid the religious world, long enough for candid considera- on of their mutual causes of Jealousy and enepicion, their seated opposition aid alienation, and endeavor, after all our efforts to crueh the theatre have failed, to get the public and the dramatic profession to unite with the moral and serious portions of the commauity, or, what is more difficult, the moral and weriout portions ‘with them, t reform the theatre; to reduce it to its theo. retic, innocent, and beneficent ¢ to make it a begiti mate interest ‘and houeet charm of rorlety, ender the simile of virtue and the protection of religion. ‘You will not ruppose mo ignorant of the alarm or mis- giving with which euch a hope and effort are eure to be received by the class with whom Iam arguing, Tbe} will say, that instead of refortning the theatre, we ehali deform the church; that religion lees ite power over men the moment it ehows any syinpathy with thedr seliindal- went tastes, and that an absolute distrust and discounten- ance of the theatre, @ complete and thoreugh on from it, as from plague and pollution, te the only way to encape its pernicions infivence. This, Tarn mware, is the falmost universal method cf dealing with the subject distinetion han ever taken. I rpeak disciple of the chureh; a full believer tn historical, organ wed Christianity, @ sorrowful observer of the decline of worrhip, of faith and of reverence in our American rociety Pot I think the weakness of the fie charge, and t0 intentence. Tutterly its el * i 5 repudiate ‘the touch not, ute bat hantio aes, ’” principte, @s unsound tp theory, In pro: jon ng the church fe and sanctity, it tas created vices in itself allowed them ‘in the world—in propertion the world has excluded, banished, of fost the ahurch from ite plentures and ite hip, it has de- geveraiod ip virtue and encouraged the funsticwm and oo of @ religious claws, jigion i# Gre salt of the world; not to be hoarted in hard and polished crystale, as in tte original tering: upsn the distant wiew of he rather ta be J od with Wie datty food of society, giv’ rity and flavor to @] we Tie in Une tormp apd undies on, bak tang et the substanvg q i 3 world ia gaining much that the shureh ia loging: fer the precepts and spirit of Christ, separated from socke- slastical and doginatic deformities, are, under wei proy- ing and seit forme; ‘tra the cus. toms, and of the world at we ws Mine Yiwible churebyand the clergy would not see thernsetver left like the Pyramids in the desert, monuments of a vax ypalation and 4 vast dominion that once surrouuded whem. ut now, out of the line of the commerce, the uses and the interests of the world, the gigantic tombs of forgotten kings and priests, it becomes them to takevsheir invited place at the bead of the real concerns of society, aivising, Partners in the business and pleasures of the worl; Kuides, (riends, sympathizers aud helpers of the race, in al) its efforts to instruct, amuse and save itself, Tam a servant not merely of religion butef the church, and bh spo to live and die in this service, but {f there is to be @ great gulf fixed between the church and the world, as between heaven and , minister of Christ aa [ am, f woukt sooner take my place and part with the world ‘than with the chureh; with common humanity than with any elect portion of it; with confessed sinners than elf-aamed saints tor hi rist, who is the light of the world, and Jone, is more permanently @ rt, and fortunes, and feelings any fraction of humanity, ‘tor elfappropriative of his name and the theatre were as bad as the place from whick plese, erring worm ne, who play sueb an effec- yart in our Kaviour's ‘y—and it often has thas jaim on our mingled pity and heip—I should ount it Christian ty abandon the stage to self, or to permit any self caving seraplet to make i ap in- . y which Christians are not bound to sera- tinize and oversee. 1 desire to speak with forbearance of the mistakes and prejudices of the pious—for I know how honest and real many of them are, But T mast ba faithful to my own light ‘and to the race, Thase who, under that strange but uiter blindness as to their own frame of mind to which truly good men are fiable, are willing to separate thernselyes from the fortunes af their race; to save their ewn souly without much diminution of their joy that millions of thelr fellow creavares are leing theirs; to regard the ordinary and common life of the world as profane, and not under the blessing of or the grace of our Lord and Saviour, may consistently in denunciation of amusement in general, and the theatre in pattivwlar. But as, by God's grace, T belong met to hit body, and share nohe of its partial views or exalu- ant prospects, Udepart, in nodegree, from my principles as a minister of Chrivt, or a teacher of morals and religion, in ineluding the theory and the practice of amusements in the scheme of my pulpit instructiona and my cocin! responsibilities, or in countenancing the princ- ple, and ko far us examination may juntify it, the inetitu- tion of the theatre, Assuming, then, that the theatre is a great and portant fact—an institution so vital and popular that even the serious evils connected with it, eaunot crush tt; assuring it us alrendy proved that ita’ foundations ie deep in the wants of human nature and municipal society; assuming that the course hitherto pursued by the church and tha rganized friends of morality in regard to it, bas had ood effect, I would now inquire what course duty, i preseribe in regard to the theatre. To we must recall and classify the eviia to, which good citizens and Christians Ives, in view of the conside y produced, how they arise, and how wey may be abated. Th full ubder four heads:— 1. The identification patre with frivolity, worki- Unes#, moral inditfe general tendeney 2. Its direct or covert ment of, intemperance and J . The immorality of plays, and drift,or in their detail language, ins a. seciauon with, and encourage- tiousness. ther in thelr general epirit with the use of manners, ntionally shocking vw and destruct 4. The bad effect of theatri live pen actors and actre ina word, the unworthy personal character of the drainatic profession ‘These wi still confessed much greater than they are, the church, or the custodians of pablic morais, that they The first 18, perhaps, noarly we great ond hit decidedly lessened; the third bas nen immense and ana some of them been and litde thanks are due to fs ever, the ¢ recently increased; the fourth ix hopefwly diminished, From what does these evils mainly arise? eponsible for them, and who can abate them? Thelieve from my very soul—and to what other concla- tion hes the whole evidence tended? that the chureh and the so-called gravity, and moral worth of society, are really, though indirectly and unintentionally, the authors and propagators of the mulignant disorders and peril. our influences of the theatres, leaving beth the dramatic profeesion and the public at huge comparatively Dlameiens, and answerable only for its more venal sins. The Catholic Chureh iv medivval times, in the progeca tion of ite celfish design to control the baman raind, had » heathen drama—whieh in former ages had ted the morals of Greece and @ome—in pe of its own odious Inysteries and morativues. The instinety of human nature speedily reverted to tetandard, and gave birth to seeniar ‘m- genially and traly depicting the hopes and sof our race. Jealous of such @ rival~its compe. di popular influence—jt. forthwith ied them Christian buria), ‘Thus commenced that w ; felted ‘and narrow policy which, adojted and reinforced ritan prejudioae, was continued nad strengthened by the Protestant Church, and uw ©o largely poryesses the serious class, that the thea- tre-the most pepular and inevitable of pablic amane- ite tes Dorn mainly ebandoned to the unblessed and Who is re- eckless enre of th ny to defy both charch and mo- rality. What ie to be expected of a community from which good nen are taught to flee—of an iustitution evowedly made to the ‘land bis children? What could the theatre he exper yom—in sewlf, ite influence, i netors—ander euch & curse but barren of figs apd prolific only in thorns and bri In sober truth, it redounds to the credit of beman na: ture and to the essential purity of art, to the whols- somenee’ of public amutements and the seiLebevating character of the theatre, that under this terrible repata- tion and moral eclipae—desertion by the good and cheriah- ing by the evil—the drama hax maintained @ decency, excrted an influence and produced @ class not indicta- ble by the ordinary standards society, Dod only by the special clas who seek to maintain a dog- matic standard. The v f the theatre have aniformly Deen these of the time—no more, no worse, The has no serious vices of its own, like trade, with its fraud aod perjury; like the charch, with bypocrisy and arro- gance, The mirror of bad timox, it has reflected the vices that passed before it, not those itoriginated. Drankenness how carried tte victims, and licentiousness ite Vouuries into. its precincts. Profanity and coarseness from the pit and boxes have required profanity and coarseness from we plage, while vulgarity and ignorance have demanded rant and fustian. What i® the theatre, that we should expect it to be wise und moral, and pure, and reverential, to an au- ¢ by the of ina 1 addrens, cares lit- » and whe ring it may prac recklew ? norant church itself froquent- the wicked how long do you be pure and the doctrine sound? an bear the withdrawal of the vir- ‘The theatre bus borne it quite aa » of religion in Mexi- Protestant Germany portion of society ag the church we co or in France, or even in portion: might entity. ‘The levit, newt, aawOCIAtION with vice, and general lack of moderation jp the theatre; tte sition Ww, oF ded nce of rexgion; Sts lax morals and bad tage, be they mora or re due, mainly, in my judgment, to the anbappy keparation between the church and the workl—the guides and examples in morals and virtue, and tha public at large; and to the special emphasis which thie separavoa hay had in the case of the theatre, What are we to look for, in general, when the young aod the old no longer mingle in tho same — society 5 when the grave and the gay Keep themselves « ty apart, and society ix divided tmto these who partake and enjoy amusement and these who abstain from and decry ity Will it net necessarily cceur that one clas wi ruin iteel! hy excess in pleasure, while the other ix reriously injured and narrowed by the lack of them? Is it not clear, in American society, Uiat the gay are too the grave too grave, the young too Mighty, the old too ad; thas placer of pablic amusement aro too exclusively, and lo we reat injury of their habitual frequenters, attended by @ #pecial Clase, when the intermingling of the clas who now uuterly shun ther would at onte act with @ twofold charm, poniy ed ng geberal soccety, home, and invercourse: with the sober, leew uninteresting and repulsive, and tbe Places of sannmement not so exclusively attractive, h; adapted to higher, purer and las euperficial dition to its other , the theatre is now a against the ead sericusners of trade gravity of piety. It says, “there ts some renee, bewuty, leleure etill Jeft in the world. mertic life aud the religious life aball both vest Gaon ives with > orwe of art and graces of sympathy, we may Aimination of the excessive ‘hich of our day have for the theatre. But until citivens art cur religious people allow themselves generow” participation in the pleamures and the world, they will neither know A efit E g He 17? #8 5 E £ tlt at hor what i Te and fascinations are. i iis of is an inaurreotion of ee me wockety oY ) of tho community rth from the re resorts of the people. TGouste thas all the epecl= Od eccetbas cnseren Eeaanieiiiions. oven es great an extent as they ever disappear, icyeashdcaisy anes fey reap oe Woe ee EO ots Sores poople oF this . Me ots is meaeresen Ute thor. Tie ait dane ake te an ag rere thing torn gary actors ana ae ote pi, om salves seppese be right peer a there would Sethe only poesible and censorship in @ country like ours, securing the selection of plays of @ tarmiee and character, and their performance ia eee dere and eapuamele Purtber, the same in- EE oa asset aaproper charac, ow tat om ta ei om sea wre ey seaport would Kive actors and oe strength and courage they ro mach peed, to rise above 8 Inborious and < Scitier opee at Sept ‘mornt amd |