The
Christian and the Theater
Published by the American Tract Society
The theater is an amusement which occupies much of the
time and attention of multitudes in our large cities and populous towns;
and, unhappily, attendance on this place of resort is not by any means
confined to such as are commonly called the dissipated and licentious. Many
sober citizens think themselves justified in appearing within its walls; and
even some professed Christians are seen in that school of vice and
debauchery; and a few of them openly and systematically attempt to vindicate
the practice. How this has happened, it may be a point of some difficulty to
ascertain; for nothing is more certain than that the ancient pagans always
condemned theatrical exhibitions, as immoral in their character, and as
utterly improper to be countenanced by the virtuous and decent part of the
community. And it is equally certain that the Christian church, in all ages
in which even a tolerable adherence to Christian principle was maintained,
has still more pointedly condemned and denounced them. Nay, in early times,
all who frequented the theater were excluded from the communion of the
church, without respect of persons.
But, by some strange concurrence of circumstances, this
evil, sinful and pestiferous as it evidently is, has crept, under a sort of
disguise, into the Church of Christ; and has come to be considered by many,
as an amusement lawful for Christians! With respect to most other sins which
we are in the habit of reproving, they are freely and generally acknowledged
to be such; and when any of those who belong to the communion of our
churches fall into them, they are dealt with as circumstances require. But
we have here the strange phenomenon of a great and crying sin, which some
professed Christians not only indulge—but which they openly endeavor
to justify; to which they freely introduce their children; and, as if
this were not enough, in behalf of which they take serious offence when the
ministers of Christ speak of it in the terms which it deserves. Rely upon
it, reader, this practice will not stand the test of examination. It is
corrupt and indefensible throughout; and the more speedily you become
convinced of this, and act accordingly, the better will it be for yourself,
and the better for society.
Fellow-mortal, be persuaded to attend seriously to this
subject. Do not turn away from it. It is a most important concern. And if
there is in the practice in question all that evil which there may be
demonstrated to be, it certainly will not alleviate the load of your guilt
to be obliged to say, that, though warned, you refused to consider the
subject.
Theatrical exhibitions, then, may be shown to be sinful,
and productive of much evil, in a great variety of respects. Bear with a
sincere friend to your temporal and eternal happiness, while he endeavors,
with all plainness and fidelity, to state them. And,
I. To attend the theater is a sinful waste of TIME.
You will not dare to deny, that every moment
of your time is given you by the great Author of life; and that you must
render an account to Him for the manner in which you spend it. Neither will
you deny that life is short; that there is much important work to be done;
and that no one can be sure that he has another day or hour to live. To
creatures situated as we are, every hour which passes over us must be
incalculably, nay, infinitely momentous; because we know not but there may
be suspended upon it the destiny of our immortal souls, and all the
never-dying interests of eternity. Placed in circumstances so solemn as
these, can any rational, conscientious man consent to sit for a number of
hours in a playhouse, attending to amusements which, to say the least of
them, are as perfectly vain and frivolous as they can be? Can
you appeal to the great Searcher of hearts, and say that you think this is
right? Can you say that it is acting as an accountable and dying creature
ought to act? No! The most determined advocate of the theater who lives,
would not dare to say this. He would be shocked at the thought of seriously
adopting such a principle. Either, then, the scriptural precept to redeem
time, and the scriptural rules for disposing of time, must be utterly
rejected, or theatrical amusements must be pronounced sinful. Either men are
not accountable for the manner in which they spend their time, and are not
bound to devote it to the glory of God and the promotion of their own moral
and spiritual benefit, or it is a grievous sin to squander precious hours in
an amusement, of which the lightest censure that can possible be passed upon
it is, that it is wholly unprofitable. But we go further.
II. Theatrical entertainments are not merely
unprofitable—not merely a sinful waste of time—but they also directly tend
to dissipate the mind, and destroy all taste for serious and spiritual
employments. Let me appeal to the
experience of those who have been in the habit of attending the theater,
whether this amusement is not strongly unfavorable to everything like a
pious frame of mind? When you return from the playhouse, after witnessing
the most decent play which was ever exhibited—have you any taste for
prayer, for reading the Scriptures, or holding communion with God in any
sacred exercise? Is there not something in the sentiments uttered in the
theater, in the scenery displayed, in the dress, attitudes, and deportment
of the performers, and in the licentious appearance and libertine conduct of
many of the spectators, which is calculated, to say the least, to expel all
seriousness from the mind; to drive away all thoughts of God, of eternity,
and of a judgment to come; and to extinguish all taste for spiritual
employments? Need we wait for an answer? Everyone, who has the least
experience on the subject, knows that these things are so. He can bear
testimony that few things have a more direct tendency to give the mind a
vain and frivolous cast; to make it familiar with licentious
images and objects; to destroy a taste for devotion; and to banish that
spirituality which is at once the duty and happiness of the Christian.
And will any man, who means to stand on Christian ground,
venture to deny that whatever has this tendency must be sinful? That
whatever draws off the heart from that which is sober, useful, and pious—and
inspires it with a prevailing taste for the vain, the romantic, the
extravagant, the sensual, and the impure—cannot but be deeply pernicious?
Alas! the theater does not properly instruct a man how to live, how to
suffer, how to die. It does not tend to inspire those serious, practical
sentiments which befit one who remembers that he may be called tomorrow to
leave this transient scene. On the contrary, its direct and only tendency
is, to make men forget their duty and their real happiness, and altogether
to beguile the feelings proper for one who has no continuing city here, but
who ought to be continually seeking one to come, whose builder and maker is
God. But what has been said is not the worst.
III. The theater is now, and ever has been—a
school of vice and profligacy. By far
the greater part of the most popular plays, though they may, and, doubtless,
often do contain many good sentiments, yet also contain much that is
profane, obscene, and calculated to pollute the imagination, to inflame the
passions, and instill the most corrupt principles, and the most pernicious
practices. How common is it to find in the language of the theater the most
unqualified profaneness, and even blasphemy! How often are
mock-prayers and irreverent appeals to the Majesty of heaven,
exhibited on the most trivial occasions! How often is the dialogue
interspersed with such unchaste expressions or allusions as cannot but
grievously pain the ear of modesty; and these pronounced and set forth in a
way calculated to give additional force to the evil! Can such exhibitions be
innocent? Are they such as a disciple of Christ can witness with safety, or
encourage with a good conscience? If they are, then it is difficult to say
what is sinful, or what may not be justified.
How shall we account for it, then, that decent females,
who would be shocked at the least approach to obscene language in their
presence in private, and who, if it were uttered, would think their
reputation sullied, if not ruined, by being found in such company a second
time; can yet go every week to the theater, and there listen to such
language, and sometimes in very gross forms, without, perhaps, a blush, and
without the smallest apparent consciousness of doing wrong? However painful
the alternative, we must necessarily conclude that such females have
less real delicacy, less truly virtuous principle, than they would wish us
to believe.
Nor is this the whole of the evil. Of many plays which
cannot be charged with profaneness or indelicacy of language, the
general moral tone is detestable; such as no person of real
virtue, to say nothing of the Christian, can contemplate without abhorrence.
Piety and virtue are made to appear contemptible; and vice, in the person of
some favorite hero, is exhibited as attractive, honorable, and triumphant.
Folly and sin have commendatory names bestowed upon them; and
the extravagance of sinful passion is represented as amiable sensibility.
Pride, revenge, false honor, violence, the indulgence of unhallowed love,
marital infidelity, and making the applause of men the governing rule
of life—if not openly commended, are yet so depicted as to make them appear
objects of envy rather than of abhorrence. Provided a man is
frank, generous, and brave, he may be an abandoned libertine, an invader of
marital purity, a spendthrift of other men's property, a defrauder of the
fatherless and widow, a despiser of God, and a trampler on his laws; and
yet, on the stage, may be, and often is, celebrated as the possessor of an
excellent heart.
Now, can any man of decent character—above all, can any
man who professes to be a disciple of Jesus Christ, go to a place, or
encourage representations, in which sentiments such as these are almost
continually brought into view, and often under the most alluring aspect? Is
this a school to which we ought to be willing to introduce our sons
and our daughters, even if we had no higher aim than to prepare them
for virtuous, dignified, and useful activity in the present life? It is
indeed, as astonishing as it is humiliating, that we are driven to the
necessity of asking such questions; and still more so, that thousands, who
call themselves Christians, act as if they might be
confidently answered in the affirmative!
IV. Those who go to the theater, not only contribute to
the support of an impious and harmful amusement, but also contribute to
the encouragement and support of a set of licentious play-actors.
That we ought not to countenance any class of wicked
people in their sinful course, or, by any means, to encourage them to
continue in it, will be acknowledged by all who believe that there is a
difference between right and wrong—that there is any such thing as sin. But
what are the prevailing character and lives of actors? Can anyone who
values truth, say that they are commonly, or, indeed, are ever, excepting in
very rare cases, people of decent, sober character? He certainly cannot.
They are generally a licentious, immoral people. And, indeed, from the
nature of their occupation, it is hardly to be expected that they should be
otherwise. They are constantly engaged in personating different
characters; and, perhaps more frequently than otherwise, very bad
characters! In other words, a large portion of the time of all of them,
is employed in impersonating, displaying, and recommending vice—which
itself, can scarcely fail to corrupt their principles and habits! Add to
this, that the nature of the fellowship which takes place, and must take
place, between performers on the same stage, more particularly between those
of different sexes, can scarcely fail of corrupting their morals. Were
general purity, both of principle and of practice, to be maintained under
circumstances such as these—it would be almost a miracle!
Accordingly, in all ages and countries, play-actors have
been generally found triflers, buffoons, sensualists, unfit for sober
employment, and loose in their morals. It is not pretended that there have
been no exceptions to this character. But the exceptions have been so few,
and their circumstances so extraordinary, as to confirm, rather than
invalidate the general argument. And is it even true, that there ever has
been a complete exception? Was there ever an actor who exhibited a life of
steady, exemplary, Christian purity and piety? I never heard of such a
person; and until I do, I shall venture to say there never was one. Yet this
is the profession which all who frequent the theater contribute their share,
to encourage and support. They give their presence, their
influence, and their money—for the maintenance of a class of
people whose business it is—directly or indirectly, to instill error
and sin, to corrupt our children, and to counteract whatever the friends of
piety and good morals are striving to accomplish for the benefit of society.
If this representation be just; if attending on the
theater is a sinful waste of time; if it tends to dissipate the mind, and to
render it indisposed for all sober, useful, or spiritual employments; if
hardly any man living would DARE to retire, and, upon his knees, ask the
blessing of God upon it before he went, or implore the sanctified use of it
after he returned; if theatrical exhibitions are often—very often—indecent
and profane, and always demoralizing in their tendency; and if their
patrons, by every attendance upon them, encourage and support sin as a
trade; then, I ask, can any man who claims to be barely moral—placing
piety out of the question—can any man who claims to be barely moral,
conscientiously countenance such a seminary of vice? Especially, can
a disciple of Jesus Christ, who professes to be governed by the Spirit, and
to imitate the example of his Divine Master; who is commanded to "live
soberly, righteously, and godly in this present evil
world;" who is warned to have "no fellowship with the unfruitful works of
darkness, but rather to reprove them;" who is required to "crucify the
flesh, with the affections and lusts;" and "whether he eats or drinks, or
whatever he does, to do all to the glory of God;" can a disciple of Christ,
I say, who is commanded to "shun the company of the profane," to avoid the
very appearance of evil, and to pray, "Lead us not into temptation"—can HE
be found in such a place without sin; without polluting his conscience,
tarnishing his profession, and offending his God? I would sincerely hope
that no one could hesitate a moment as to the answer which ought to be given
to this question.
Perhaps some will consider this as taking an
unnecessarily strict, and even puritanical view of the theater, as an
amusement. This is so far from being the case, that the sentiments which
have been expressed, are those in which the wise and the virtuous, in all
ages, have been entirely unanimous, even from the origin of the practice. As
was intimated at the beginning, all the sober Pagans pronounced the
theater a school of vice. Plato tells us, that "plays raise the
passions, and pervert the use of them; and, of consequence, are dangerous to
morality." Aristotle lays it down as rule, "that the seeing of
comedies ought to be forbidden to young people; such indulgences not being
safe, until age and discipline have confirmed them in sobriety,
fortified their virtue, and made them proof against debauchery." And even
Ovid, in his most licentious poems, speaks of the theater as conducing
to dissoluteness of principle and manners. And afterwards, advises the
suppression of this amusement, as being a grand source of corruption.
In the primitive Church, too, as has been already
hinted, both the actors and those who attended the theater were debarred
from the Christian sacraments. All the early writers who speak on the
subject, with one voice attest that this was the case. And some of them, as
well as some of the early synods and councils, employ language, in reference
to this amusement and the class of people who conduct it, expressive of the
strongest abhorrence. Not only actors were excluded from the privileges of
the Church, but also all who intermarried with them, or in any ways openly
encouraged them; thereby declaring that they considered the whole
institution, in all its connections and influences, as altogether
pernicious, and to be detested.
And almost all the reformed churches have, at different
times, spoken the same language, and enacted regulations of a similar kind.
They have declared it to be "unlawful to go to comedies, tragedies,
interludes, farces, or other stage-plays, acted in public or private;
because, in all ages, these have been forbidden among Christians, as
bringing in a corruption of good manners." Surely, this remarkable
concurrence of opinion, in different ages and countries, ought to command
the most serious attention of those who wish to know what is their duty.
To these authorities it may be of use to add the judgment
of a few conspicuous individuals, of different characters and situations,
all of whom were well qualified to decide on the subject: individuals, not
of austere or illiberal minds, and who have never been charged with the
desire of contracting, to an unreasonable degree, the limits of public or
private amusement.
Tillotson, after some pointed and forcible reasoning
against it, pronounces the playhouse to be "the devil's chapel;" "a nursery
of licentiousness and vice;" "a recreation which ought not to be allowed
among a civilized people, much less a Christian people."
Collier solemnly declares, that he was persuaded "nothing had done more to
debauch the age in which he lived, than the theater and the
playhouse." Lord Chief Justice Hale informs us, that when he was
a youth at college the actors visiting Oxford, he was so much corrupted by
frequenting the theater, that, for some months, he almost wholly forsook his
studies. By this habit he not only lost much time, but also found his mind
filled with so many "vain images" and "false sentiments" that he began to be
alarmed for himself, and determined to abandon a course which he saw was
leading him to ruin. On going to London, he resolved never to see a play
again; and rigidly adhered to his resolution. Even the infidel philosopher,
Rousseau, declared himself to be of the opinion that the theater is,
in all cases, a school of vice. Though he had himself written for the
stage, yet, when it was proposed to establish a theater in the city of
Geneva, he wrote against the project with zeal and great force, and
expressed the opinion, that every friend of pure morals ought to oppose it.
After this amount of reasoning and of testimony against
the theater, is it possible that any, who are not determined to set at
defiance all considerations of duty, can hesitate a moment? Even if one-half
of what has been said of this amusement is true, then every father of a
family—every good citizen—every friend to social order and happiness, ought
to set his face against it as a flint, and to discountenance it by all fair
and lawful means. But, reader, if you call yourself a Christian, or
have any desire worthily to bear that hallowed name—can you ever
again be seen within the walls of a theater? Can you ever willingly permit
anyone over whom you have any influence to be seen there? Say not, that the
habits of society are such that you can scarcely avoid it. The question is
plain, "Will you obey God, or man? Will you timidly or basely give way, to
that which you must acknowledge to be wicked? or will you dare to do what is
right, though all the world were against you? Will you take the
Scriptures—or the maxims of a corrupt world—for your guide?" The question is
left with your conscience in the sight of God.
Attendant on the theater, whoever you are, if the
foregoing representations are correct, then your conduct carries with it a
degree of guilt which ought, surely, to alarm you. Every time you go to that
scene of temptation and vice, you sin against your family, if you
have any, against the purity and order of civil society, and against God, as
well as against your own soul. Can you think of this, and still go with a
quiet conscience? It is related of the late Mr. Hervey, a well-known
and eminently pious divine of England, that being once on a journey in a
stage-coach, the theater became the topic of conversation. A lady in
company, who was much attached to this amusement, expatiated largely on the
pleasures attending it. She observed, that she found much pleasure in
anticipating the performance, much in witnessing it, and much in
recollecting and conversing upon it afterwards. Mr. Hervey listened with
respectful attention, and, when she had done, said, "Madam, there is one
pleasure growing out of the theater which you have omitted to mention."
Delighted to think of her opinion being confirmed by a person of his
respectable appearance, she asked him with eagerness to what he referred.
"Madam," said he, gravely, "I refer to the pleasure which the remembrance of
having attended on the theater, will give you on a dying bed!" This
seasonable remark proved better than a thousand arguments. It made a deep
and permanent impression. The lady never again went to the theater, and
became eminently pious. Every lover and frequenter of the theater will soon
lie upon a sick and dying bed. How will the amusement then appear? How will
the remembrance of having yielded to its allurements then lie on the
conscience? Think of that hour, and be wise in time!
Attendant on the theater, did you ever hear of that awful
catastrophe which caused the tears of so many to flow, a few years since, in
one of our cities—when a theater, in the midst of its performances, and
unusually crowded, was destroyed by fire—and seventy-five people
perished in the flames? Did you ever hear of that heart-rending scene?
Did you ever try to image to yourself how you would have felt, if you had
been there? Think of A THEATER IN FLAMES! and ask whether you would be
willing to meet death in a playhouse—to pass, as it were in a moment, from
all the polluted vanities of such company, and such a scene—to the immediate
presence of a holy God! How tremendous the thought! yet no one can tell that
a like calamity may not happen at any time when he allows himself to be
present in such a place. But, fellow-mortal, if you never should see a
theater in flames, you will see a WORLD IN FLAMES, and a holy Judge
descending to his "great white throne;" and "the heavens and the earth
passing away, that there shall be no place found for them." And you shall
see "many great men, and rich men, and mighty men, hiding themselves in the
dens, and in the rocks of the mountains; saying to the mountains and rocks,
Fall upon us, and hide us from the face of Him who sits on the throne, and
from the wrath of the Lamb; for the great day of his wrath has come, and who
shall be able to stand?" Will attendance on the theater, do you think, be a
means of preparing any man to meet that Judge, and to stand the trial of
that great day? May God, of his infinite mercy, open the eyes, and turn the
hearts of infatuated men, that they may see their folly and danger before it
is forever too late!
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