off to consult some man of the law as to what was penses. This was what his new friend, the amiable now to be done. As he turned from the coufusion and | lawyer, had not anticipated. So he instantly threw ruin that everywhere encountered his view, and the | his triumphant client into jail, his wages and his fines set of wretches he left revelling in the midst of it, going but a small way to liquidate his own magnifisome internal force seemed almost to throttle him; he cent bill. struck his clenched fist on his breast, and they heard him mutter, 'Oh, my lost wife! And it is probable some agonizing thoughts as to the change wrought by her death had crossed his heart. "This expedition cost him one entire day. Much he grumbled, but soon had greater cause, for he was forced to attend first to the demands of the small debt court; then at the sheriff's court; and thirdly, on a new charge brought against him, by the everlasting ploughman, of defamation! Hour after hour, and day after day, were consumed either in traversing the weary road, or in waiting upon the endless, and, to him, imcomprehensible delays of the law. He had been a very liberal-thinking man, had most beautiful notions of freedom and equality, and a most just abhorrence of arbitrary governing. But wonderfully were these notions melted away in the furnace of his own afflictions, when he found his own wicked servant, who had cheated him, robbed him, and put his most valuable property to ruin, standing in a court of law and equity, on more than equal terms with himself. But, such is the perfect equality of the laws to rich and poor; and he was obliged to pay the wages of the fellow who had robbed him to twenty times their amount. He was obliged to pay a fine for having given him a beating, not the tenth part of what he deserved; and, still more hard, was obliged to pay him damages for calling him a villain, because he had not sufficient proof to bring home to him the charge of robbery. This was a species of equity he by no means liked; and the only mitigation of his rage and wretchedness was, that the judge, though obliged to give sentence according to law, it being clear the servant was guilty, reduced the fine and the damages to sixpence each, and ordered him to pay his own ex "Weary and sadly did unhappy James, his law concerns at last laid at rest, now take the long, and, of late, hateful road to his comfortless home, where every thing seemed to be going to destruction with accelerating speed. During his attendance in those detested law-courts, even the most needful work about his farm was at a stand. No one was there now to overlook or direct when his own back was turned. "The more he looked at his affairs, the more he saw, or supposed them irremediable. The cattle had been allowed to break into a clover field, and before any help was afforded, two of his finest cows were past recovery, and died. Many of his fine English sheep were left to perish among the briers, now overrunning every corner, and their lambs died of want. His calves were mismanaged, and unfit for the market, or sold for a trifle, that they might not die on his hands. A mare and her foal were stolen-his bees were not watched, swarms flew away,-the breeding sow-some said she was starved,—at any rate she was dead, and her thirteen pigs soon followed her. The fox stole his turkeys and geese, the whitterets killed the chickens and carried off the eggs,the butter was bursted, the cheese fire-fanged, the spate swept away the lint. Oh, oh, oh, God! oh, my poor, dear, dear, departed wife! he exclaimed. He rushed out to his barn, seized as he passed, a hank of her yarn from a reel where she left it at her death, flung it round his throat, sprung upon a cart wheel,— no cock crowed—” Simon's voice quivered, and he stopped. After some minutes, he added, “there is the barn, and yonder is his grave." And getting up from his turf seat, we walked forward once more in silence. REVIEW OF NEW BOOKS. THE THEATRE, IN ITS INFLUENCE UPON LITERATURE, MORALS, AND RELIGION. By Robert Trumbull, Pastor of the South Baptist Church, Hartford, Connecticut. THIS little book professes to be an enlargement of a discourse delivered in the Centre Church, Hartford, and published, as all sermons are, by request. How is it that every attack upon the drama is pulpit-born? The poor histrion is compelled, every succeeding year, to endure a repetition of certain stereotyped assertions from some rising popularity-hunter of the day-who thumps right and left at the votary of the stage, and is content to use the worn-out weapons of his predecessors. Garbled extracts, misrepresented predications, and erroneous conclusions, are foisted upon the faithful congregation-half-a dozen old women cry "wonderful;" and the lecture is printed, to the delight of the author, and the profit of the typographer alone. The pulpit, from whence should alone proceed the word of God, and the exemplifications of faith, hope, and charity, whose works are peace and good will to all men, is defiled by the foul anathemas of the worldly, self-sufficient priest, who arrogates to himself a power that was never assumed by his pious master, nor any of the holy men who conscientiously undertook to propagate His name, and the precepts of His divine morality. St. Paul, in his epistle to the Corinthians, quotes a well-known sentence from one of Menander's comediesagain, in the book of Acts, he refers to the Greek poets; and when his companions were forced by the violence of the mob into the theatre at Ephesus, not one word is said by the apostle against the establishment or its purposes. Nay, more-he would himself have entered the building, but for the persuasions of his friends, who dreaded the temper of the populace-yet, Rowland Hill, a reverend member of the Methodist church, publicly returned thanks to God for killing some of the firemen, (the devil's children, as he called them,) who were endeavoring to extinguish the flames at the burning of one of the London theatres-and a Baptist minister, Boatswain Smith, declared the destruction of the Brunswick theatre, which fell beneath the weight of a ponderous iron roof, to be a manifestation of God's judgment-because a few carpenters, an unlucky actor or two, a dancer, and a painter, were victims to the builder's incapability. But when the chapel fell at Aberdeen, and upwards of twenty persons were killed during divine service, we heard not of the Omnipotent's displeasure; the distressing accident was the topic of the day. But we have no occasion to travel to Europe for examples-dreadful accidents have happened in American theatres; and the ignorant in their fanaticism have not failed to insult the mercies of the Eternal God. Mr. Turnbull has embraced many of the errors of his brother combatants, and has not been fortunate in the strength of any new positions. He affirms that the drama is injurious to the cause of literature, because "authors, who would willingly employ their faculties in nobler offices, devote themselves to the drama, because such productions are better paid than those of more sterling value. The latter are often a mere drug in the market, whilst the most vapid and miserable stuff commands a rapid sale." The italics belong to Mr. T., and the whole sentence evinces how thoroughly ignorant he is of the subject he is endeavoring to elucidate. America possesses no dramatic literature, comparatively speaking; so far from playwrights being better paid, they are not paid at all. The convenience of transmission from London floods the managers' desks with every successful piece within a few weeks from its production, and prevents the necessity of employing an American pen. The few splendid (hearsay) instances to the contrary but prove the rule; but we trust that American authors will shortly compete successfully with the European playwrights, and that our sons may boast of a drama of their own. The minister frequently contradicts himself. He allows that "the drama has been the means of eliciting some of the most brilliant efforts of human genius, and that it has been illustrated and embellished by the learning and talent of some highly distinguished men." He confesses that he does "not know that there is any thing absolutely improper in that form of composition called The Drama," neither is he sure "that there is any thing in mere scenic arrangement and histrionic performances, as such, to vitiate the principles, and corrupt the morals of the community." A few pages farther on, he stigmatises the actors as “a lost and degraded part of the community; distinguished for their dissipation, their want of high and honorable principle, their imprudence, improvidence, irreligion, and licentiousness." "It is a well-known fact," says our reverend author, that even in those places where the institutions of religion are regarded, they, (the players) are generally in the habit of rehearsing their parts, and making preparations for the amusements of the ensuing week, on the Sabbath." This is not a well known fact, Mr. Trumbull; and whoever informed you of the prevalence of such practices was guilty of wilful misrepre sentation. He farther asserts that he never heard of one of the actors" who was a member of a christian church, or who ever attended regularly upon Divine worship." We beg leave to assert that we know many-very many, members of the theatrical profession, who every way fulfil their duties towards God and their neighbors. Nay, more we boldly assert, and defy a contradictory provement, that actors are peculiarly given to a strict attendance at a place of worship-but that many of them have been driven from their seats in the house of prayer by the pious brutality of the reverend officiator, who has meanly taken the opportunity of insulting his hearer, and desecrating the holy tabernacle, into which foul things should creep not, by the pointed contumely of a public vituperation of the actor and his craft. Sheridan Knowles, during his recent visit to Philadelphia, was compelled to leave the church of a pious preacher, who drew the eyes of the whole congregation on the poor unoffending player, by the personal nature of his remarks. Knowles has immortalised the minister in a sonnet of peculiar power. Numerous other instances may be adduced; there is scarcely an actor of respectability who has not had his feelings outraged in the same way-nay, the ladies have received their share of the insolence of fanaticism-and we ourselves have attended as mourner at an actor's grave, when the clergyman illustrated the charity of his religion by insulting the poor clay over which he had been summoned to perform the last sad offices-by agonising the feelings of the bereaved and suffering wife-and conferring a gratuitous outrage upon the friends and relatives of the deceased, whose profession he stigmatised as the path of crime, and whose doom was brimstone and eternal pain. At page 29, we are told that "it was a long time before the theatre could obtain any permanent establishment in Rome, owing to the opposition of its most upright citizens." This is a favorite assertion with all persons opposed to the stage. We are also told that the profession of an actor was declared infamous by the Romans. Let us see what history says upon the subject. "In 353. B. C., Rome was afflicted by a dreadful pestilence, and after various means had been ineffectually used for appeasing the Gods, it was proposed to exhibit stage plays, which, in all antiquity, had a religious and solemn signification. In Rome, they had not, at that time, become usual; the only amusements of the warlike Romans having been the games of the circus, races, and other contests. They therefore obtained from the Etruscans (from whom they borrowed many religious rites) dancers, who performed their mimic dances to the sound of the tibia, on stages erected for the purpose. The Roman youth, delighted with this new spectacle, imitated them, and recited, at the same time, ludicrous verses. This new kind of exhibition was cultivated by native Romans, to whom the name histriones was given (from an Etruscan word signifying a stage player). They now recited comic poems (satura, satires) accompanied with action and music. Livius Andronicus, who composed the first regular comedies, about 240 B. C., as was usual at that time, acted in them himself." This is Livy's account (vii. 2). The art of acting became so popular that the greatest men, particularly the orators, took lessons from the performers. The theatre became the fashionable rage-and not only the principal citizens, but the knights, the members of the senate, and even the sovereigns themselves, participated in the representations. Politics, which too often have injured the drama's prosperity, became interwoven with the matter of the play: the tyrant trembled beneath the lash of the poet-and Nero, the most villanous of the blots upon the page of history, declared the profession of an actor to be infamous, and banished all performers from the city, although the imbecile monarch would himself fiddle and sing in public places, and cause his soldier spies to arrest those persons who did not admire his execution. Another reason that rendered essential the suppression of dramatic amusements, was the fact that the performances extended throughout the whole day, and the artizan and the mechanic were induced to devote a longer period to their amusements than the necessities of their families could allow. But in the proud and palmy days of glorious Rome, the actors and dramatists were highly honored, and, as in ancient Greece, the first and noblest spirits of the age were proud to claim them as their masters and their friends. Cicero was the pupil of Roscius: Cato the Censor and Scipio Africanus enrolled themselves among the scholars of Ennius the Calabrian; Hiero of Syracuse patronised Æschylus and Epicharmus; Euripides, who sojourned at Macedonia on the invitation of King Archelaus, had a cenotaph erected to his memory at Athens with this inscription: "All Greece is the monument of Euripides; the Macedonian earth covers only his bones." Let us not then be told that actors were always a degraded race, or that they have been regarded, in all ages, with suspicion and distrust." In Roman Catholic countries, the members of the dramatic art are treated with every possible respect during their life, and refused the privilege of interment in consecrated ground after death. This anomaly has been frequently used as a reproach, but what are the causes of these opposite effects? The old states of polished Europe have for many centuries revelled in the enjoyment of theatrical amusements; they are now a part and parcel of the people's being-an1 the clergy have suffered a considerable decrease in their revenues by losing the monopoly of the acted mysteries and religions plays which in every country were the origin of the drama. Hence the cause of the animosity and interference of the priesteraft—an interference that developed itself in brutal revenge upon the manes of their unwilling foes. The state of the drama is ever a type of the nation's strength. This is a startling assertion, perhaps, but let us examine into the facts. In Great Britain, France, and America, the drama is firmly fixed—a national amusement, recognized by the laws. In Germany, it developes the characteristics of the country, and meets with warm support in that liberal and literary clime. In Denmark, Sweden, and the black inhospitable regions of the north, it is but rarely seen. Czar Peter introduced the drama into Russia, but it has never flourished-it cannot breathe in a tyrant's land. Its success is a proof of wholesome civilization, not of feudal slavery or corrupt effeminacy; in warm and luxurious Italy, it assumes the shape of opera, and languishes in melting tones. The lazy and voluptuous Turk enjoys it in the primitive state of acted parables or tales of the Arabian story tellers. The brightest and purest days of the drama are to be found connected with the |