aid to the various moral associations now existing, if they attack the same evils from their own peculiar platform, as well as from that of the society."

“I entirely agree with you; and the good effect of my friend's conduct in this matter made a powerful impression on my own mind, as to the efficacy of that Divine instrument, preaching, in enforcing every branch of moral duty, as well as the duties of piety. Through his influence on his congregation, a great reformation of manners was produced in the town. They were many of them wealthy, and employed the poor; but they made it a point not to engage any openly immoral person, or deal with tradesmen of that character, if others could be found. The observance of the Sabbath was, by this means, especially promoted. None of his congregation ever entered a public conveyance on that day, even though their journey were a lawful one, since they thought that to do so was to sanction the employment of such conveyances in breaking the day; they therefore willingly incurred the extra expense of a private vehicle when such rare occasions happened; for they considered money, and the pleasure of hearing favourite preachers, were not to be put into competition with sanctioning sin, and tempting their neighbours to commit it. On ordinary days, also, they gave a preference to the few coaches and steam-vessels that did not profane the Sabbath, as a testimony of approbation due to right conduct."

"What an important moral reform," replied Mr. Malony, "would soon be effected if all Christians acted.

thus, and if all our laws, also, tended in the same way to restrain vice and support virtue. But, to return to the consideration of the theatre; many of its advocates, though they admit that its tendency, at present, is licentious, argue that it might be rendered a school of virtuous instruction. Now, if this is true, the object of the philanthropist should be, not to destroy, but reform it."

"Certainly.

In my opinion, however, such persons are mistaken. It is essential to the theatre that females should act, and that the vicious should be personated; and therefore it is, in its very nature, immoral. No woman exhibits herself as an actress without acquiring an unfeminine boldness, and sapping at least the outworks of virtue; nor is it possible for actors of either sex to personate the vicious without having their own minds polluted with the sentiments they, as it were, steep themselves in. This is abundantly proved by facts. Whoever, therefore, patronises the theatre tempts a fellow-being to become the suicidal destroyer of his own character: and who can do this and be guiltless? But this is not all, the spectators are thus brought themselves into familiar intercourse with vice; for corrupt sentiments have the same dangerous tendency, by whomsoever they are uttered. Whoever, therefore, frequents the theatre, notwithstanding the poetical justice which the play may exhibit, or the virtuous characters mingled with the vicious, voluntarily exposes himself to the polluting society of the wicked; and mock-wickedness would not, I suspect, be exempted, by the apostle,

from the "evil communications that corrupt good

manners."

This is a condemnatory sentence,” said Mr. M., "which will equally apply to the perusal of plays or tales, in which vicious characters are not simply described, but are made to display themselves so fully, that, instead of leading us to abhor evil, its deformity is lessened by our familiarity with it.”

To pretend to study examples of virtue in such a connexion, is just like seeking health in the vicinity of the plague," replied Mr. D'Arcy. "On every account such representations should be held up to general reprobation by every moralist, every philanthropist, and every Christian; and I hope it will not be long before the energetic remonstrances of the religious part of the community will awaken the attention of government to the charter they have so long bestowed upon vice, by sanctioning the theatre.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

THE RURAL FETE.-SOURCES OF HAPPINESS.

ABOUT this time the clearing of the bog was completed, and, as the workmen had conducted themselves with sobriety, Mr. D'Arcy determined to celebrate the event by a rural feast. He fixed on the day when the village wake, which he had now suppressed, was accustomed to be held, in order to convince the poor people that he wished to promote their pleasures, only he was determined to make these pleasures innocent. In the morning of a very fine day at the end of May, when nature looked fresh and bright as the world's morning, all the villagers and their families assembled on a beautiful spot in the grounds, from whence the new-made land was visible. It was the level summit of a noble hill, shaded with fir-trees, stretching out in the form of a promontory, till it terminated in a steep rock; a fine river meandering, in a long serpentine course, on each side of the hill, as if on purpose to encircle this beautiful spot. After an early dinner, Mr. D'Arcy, with his family and friends, met the happy peasantry; and first had a row on the beautiful serpentime stream which traversed the new ground. The poor people and their children walked on the bank, while the husbands and

fathers pointed out the improvements made, and the difficulties overcome, to delighted spectators; and a band, formed through Mr. D'Arcy's encouragement, by the young men of the village, played national airs, and hymn-tunes, in which the children who were taught to sing in the Sunday-school joined their sweet infantine voices; and the whole produced harmony, which, if not quite perfect to the ear of science, reached the hearts of those who loved music as the expression of joy. When they landed, a bounteous supper of substantial fare was spread on long tables under the trees, and after the repast was concluded, Frederick, who called himself master of the entertainments, exhibited a camera obscura, and a few fine engravings, to the gratified peasantry. The effect produced by one of the pictures, the Turkish massacre of a Sciote family, which mothers and children gazed upon with tears, and which many of the rougher sex regarded with mixed emotions of indignation and pity, led to a conversation on the power of the fine arts in a moral point of view.

"Whatever,” said Mr. D'Arcy, "impresses strongly the imagination, will exert a proportionate influence on the feelings, and contribute materially either to improve or pervert the heart. The sculptor, the painter, and the poet, should especially remember this, and take heed that he does not employ the sacred fire of genius to kindle licentious or vindictive passions."

"The power of the imagination, and consequently of every thing that impresses it, in the culture of the heart," observed Mr. Malony, "is not sufficiently con