"Exactly so, Sir; you will excuse what I am going to say, but I often think that you are rather severe, too much so I know for some of your hearers; but I have no idea how any people of sense can go and hear such preaching as Mr. Ingleby's. I heard him once, _on the loss of the soul_. I could not sleep after it--and even now, at times I think of it. But, Sir, you know we have nothing to do with such subjects till we die, or till after death." "Such preaching," said Mr. Cole, "is as offensive to pure taste, as it is revolting to our feelings." "Exactly so; you know we are to be allured to a brighter world--not frightened there. Pray, Sir, shall we have the pleasure of meeting you and Mrs. Cole at Mr. Ryder's on Tuesday? By the by, I wonder you do not cure Mr. John of his scepticism. There is to be a large party, and rather a gay one." "I don't think," replied Mr. Cole, "that Mr. John Ryder has any more scepticism than does him good--it keeps off the gloom which a belief in the Bible almost necessarily brings over the youthful mind. No, I shall not be with you. I have an engagement with a few friends who are going to Bath, to see _Romeo and Juliet_." "How dull and insipid is a religious service when compared with a play. What a pity that our Maker requires us to be religious. I have not seen a play for some months, and when I was hearing Mr. Ingleby, I really thought that I should never have courage to see another. Oh, how he did denounce the theatre! He really said that it was the pathway to hell." "Yes," said Mr. Cole, with high disdain, "that man would interdict us from every social enjoyment; would batter down the temple of the muses, or change it into a house of prayer; and bring before our imagination the awful realities of the eternal world, with so much force, as should compel us to think, with perpetual awe, on death and the future judgment."