and religious feeling," every Christian mind agrees most fully with his sentiment; and when he asks, "will any one maintain that on the Stage it is used solemnly and religiously?" we reply, in the following instances.

In the celebrated description of mercy in the Merchant of Venice, Portia concludes by saying:

"But mercy is above this sceptred sway:

It is enthroned in the hearts of kings;

It is an attribute to God himself!

And earthly power doth then show likest God's,
When mercy seasons justice."

This speech is invariably responded to by a burst of applause, arising less from the impressive delivery of the words, than a profound admiration of the solemn truth so beautifully conveyed, and which has struck forcibly on the hearts of every auditor. It would be hard to believe that any one can utter or listen to these lines in that situation, with other than reverential feelings, nor can even prejudice itself maintain that this introduction of the sacred name, is either "flippant or profane."

In Shakspeare's historical play of Henry V., immediately before the battle of Agincourt, the King kneels and prays, as follows.

"Not to-day, O Lord,

O not to day, think not upon the fault
My father made in compassing the crown!

I Richard's body have interred new,

And on it have bestow'd more contrite tears,
Than from it issued forced drops of blood.
Five hundred poor I have in yearly pay,

Who twice a day their wither'd hands hold

up

Toward Heaven, to pardon blood. More will I do,
Though all that I can do, is nothing worth,
Since that my penitence comes after all,
Imploring pardon."

When the battle is over, and the English army are in the full pride of victory, King Henry

says:

"Come, go we in procession to the village :
And be it death proclaimed through our host,
To boast of this, or take that praise from God,
Which is his only."

Fluellen asks,

"Is it not lawful, an' please your Majesty to tell how many is killed ?"

The king replies,

"Yes, Captain; but with this acknowledgment, that God fought for us."*

In Bishop Watson's Works, the following extract occurs in his published speech, intended to have been spoken in the House of Lords, November 22nd, 1807. Alluding to Napoleon Buonaparte, he says, "There is not an admiral, an officer, or sailor in the British navy, who does not burn with impatience to have an opportunity of attacking the enemy, who is not ready to exclaim with Macduff,

Within my sword's length set him; if he 'scape.
May Heaven forgive him too.""

If these passages do not breathe the spirit of true Christian piety, and are not calculated to enhance religious feeling, I know not how we are to apply or interpret language. Many years ago, I saw acted (in an adaptation to the Stage at Drury Lane, of the three parts of King Henry VI.) the death scene of Cardinal Beaufort, and although by no means in the hands of first rate artists, the effect produced on the audience was extremely powerful.

"K. Hen. O thou eternal mover of the Heavens,
Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch !

O beat away the busy meddling fiend,
That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul,

And from his bosom purge this black despair.

War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin.
Sal. Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably.

K. Hen. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!
Cardinal, if thou thinkst on heaven's bliss,
Hold up thy hand; make signal of thy hope-
He dies and makes no sign: oh, God forgive him.
War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life.

K. Hen. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close,
And let us all to meditation."

If the death-bed of a sinner and murderer is a wholesome subject of contemplation, I shall be glad to learn how the lesson can be more impressively taught. Cardinal Wolsey, when on his fall he perceives the futility of earthly ambition, says:

"Had I but serv'd my God, with half the zeal
I serv'd my King, he would not in mine age,
Have left me naked to mine enemies."

In Measure for Measure, in the scene where Isabella is pleading with Angelo for her brother's life, he says:

"Your brother is a forfeit of the law,

And you but waste your words.

Isabella. Alas! Alas!

Why, all the souls that were, were forfeit once;
And He that might the vantage best have took,
Found out the remedy. How would you be,
If he, which is the top of judgment, should
But judge you as you are? O, think on that;
And mercy then will breathe within your lips,
Like man new made."

Minds that can interpret these and many similar passages into any thing but a respect for religion, must be constructed on strangely perverse principles. Yet these quotations are drawn from the author, who is accused by Dr. Bennett of "indulging in profaneness to such an extent, as to render his writings altogether unfit for general perusal."

In the tragedy of the Gamester, Beverley, after swallowing the poison, the fatal consequence of the passion which has ruined him, says:

"Bend me and let me kneel.Thou Power that mad'st me, hear me. If for a life of frailty, and this too hasty deed of death, thy justice doom me, here I acquit the sentence; but if, enthron'd in mercy where thou sit'st, thy pity has beheld me, send me a gleam of hope."

In Mrs. Inchbald's play of "Such things are," the following dialogue occurs between the Sultan, and Haswell, (meant for Howard the philanthropist.)

"Sultan. What is it prompts you thus to befriend the wretched and forlorn?

Haswell. In vain for me to explain-the time it would take to tell you, why I act thus―

Sultan. Send it in writing then.

Haswell. Nay, if you will read, I'll send a book, in which it is already written, why I act thus.

Sultan. What book? What is it called?

Haswell. The Christian Doctrine.' There you will find all I have done, was but my duty."

In another comedy, by the same authoress, To marry or not to marry, on the reconciliation of Sir Oswin Mortland and Lavensforth, Willowear says,

"And it is possible that such a reconciliation has taken

place.

Sir Oswin. Can you ask that question in a Christian country? to forgive is the peculiar virtue, the supreme criterion of our sacred religion. We once were deadly foes-this embrace is the confession, the bold confession of our faith."*

The most sublime doctrines of religion are inculcated in many plays, and that it is not considered wrong to introduce such subjects, when done with proper solemnity and decorum, is manifest from

* See note Z, on Dr. Plumptre's Second Discourse, where many other applicable quotations are introduced.