'i».T-*^T.* i A CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY BEQUEST OF STEWART HENRY BURNHAM 1943 A^ iJc^ ^i^ a...jc^ Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31 924031 3201 65 LECTURES FORMATION OF CHARACTER, t^mftatious atilr Sl^^^w^ YOUNG MEN. EEV. KUFUS W. CLAKK, AUIHOE or "BEXTES AND IT3 HttBlEMS," "CHMSHAH'S GITI," EIO. BOSTON: ALBEE.T COLBY & COMPANY, 20 WASniNGTON Steeet. 1861. fi^j^ihi r^~. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by JOHN P. JEWETT AND COSfPANT, In the Olerk's Office of the District Court for the district of Uassachuseits THE LATE THOMAS M. CLARK, ESQ., OP NEWBUBYPOKI, MASS., VHOSE LIFE, FSOM HIS YOUTH, WAS AN EXAMPLE OF STB CI IKTEGRITY, AND FIBM EELI8I0U3 PRINCIPLE, ?ri)is Volume IS AFPEOTIONATBiT INBOEIBED. INTRODUCTION. NoTwiTHSTANDiNa the efforts which have been made to pro- mote the moral culture of the youngj and to guard them against the perils to which they are exposed, it js a lamentable fact that multitudes of those who come from the country to the Bity, every year, fall victims to the power of vice. Unwilling to take warning from the bitter experience of those who have gone before them, — unwilling to believe that the bright visions that, allure them into forbidden paths can fade away, and be succeeded by dark clouds and tempestuous skies, — they press on until evil habits become fixed, and one star of hope after another becomes extinct, leaving a night of deep despair. Those who have already broken away from the restraints of virtue, and cast down their moral principles, we can hardly expect to reach through motives and considerations such as are presented in this volume. The hardening influences through which they have passed, — the wild excitements to which they have been accustomed, — have rendered them indifferent to the voice of warning, or the accents of kindness and persuasion. So many of the chords of their hearts are broken, that scarcely any remain to vibrate under appeals prompted by a sense of ■ their danger, afid a deep interest in their welfare. VI - INTRODUCTIOHr. But over the young, who- are fresh from their Christian homes, and who have yet lingering in the ear of their memory the counsels and prayers of pious parents and friends, we hope to gain an influence ; and to such this volume comes upon its friendly mission. It comes to follow up the influences of early religious instruction, and to lead those who will accept of its aid in the paths of virtue, honor and happiness. It comes to point out the moral dangers that surround the young, — the sunken rocks, the quicksands, eddies, and perilous currents, to which they are exposed. There is, just at the entrance of Boston harbor, a reef of rocks, so dangerous and so completely hidden at certain states of the tide, that it is called by the sailors " The Graves." Upon this reef, almost every year, some ship strikes and is wrecked. Many a poor mariner, within sight of the city church-spires, and with beaoon-Hghts around him, has here found a grave. But there are dangerous reefs within the city that might well be designated by the same title. Against them many youth have struck, and suffered the wreck of all their hopes and happiness. In the darkness of night, or in storms of temptation, or when the mists of error or delusion have gathered about them, they have been driven against them and have perished. If it is important to save men from temporal suffering, it is at least, equally important to save them from calamities that are disastrous to their spiritual and eternal interests. And if this volume but serves as another beacon-light along the shore of time, to guide the young safely to a haven of rest, the object of the writer will be accomplished. CONTENTS. CHARACTEE. - HOKE rNSLTJENCES 9 n. FORMATION OF CHARA,OTBB. .1 28 ni. ENEEOY OF CHABACTEB 42 JT. EXAMPLES OF ENEKQT. 69 TEMPTATIONS. /, I V. PERNICIOUS LTTERATTIEE. TL THE THEATRE 108 VH. GAMBLINa. 132 Vin. GAMBLING IN CONNECTION WITH OTHER TtCES 165 IX. THE HOUSE OF DEATH 180 X. MODERN SCEPTICISM '. 200 MISSION AND DUTIES. XI. PRINCIPLES OF TRADE 224 Xn. DUTIES ,0F EMPLOYERS 248 Xm. DUTIES OF CLERKS AND APPRENTICES 265 XIT. THE SABBATH 282 XV. THE BIBLE 301 XVI. SYSTEMATIC BENEFICENCE 322 XVH. CLAIMS OF OUR TIMES 342 XVnl. THE GREAT EXAMPLE 362 HOME mJLUENCES. " God setteth the solitary in families." — Psalm 68 : 6. There is qq word in tlie Englisli language sc full of thrilling and intense meaning as the word "home." It is entwined around the tenderest chords of the heart, and sweetest remembrances of hfe. We carry through life the pictures of its quiet scenes, hung around the cham- bers of the memory. We remember the bright faces that first greeted us; the windows through which we first looked out upon the world; the scenery that painted its bright colors upon our vision; the trees, flowers, and the green fields where we sported in our childhood. These images not only follow us, but often soothe the mind when agitated by life's .cares and per- plexities. They relieve the dark shadow that the clouds of adversity throw over our pathway. May it not b^ true that the character of one's birth- place, the scenery around it, as well as the influences within, have an effect upon the disposition and the happi- ness of after lifo? If moral impressions are abiding 10 LECTURES TO YOUNft MSH. and salutary, the impressions made by a beautiful and variegated landscape may be permanent, and may aid in moulding the taste and feelings. How often, when one looks upon a beautiful sunset, is he reminded of the golden hues and delicate tints with which the sunsets of his childhood were painted ! When we meet with flowers, far from home, that were favorites with us in a father's garden, they seem to recognize us, and smile upon us. They tell us that the same kind Being who made the flowers of our early years made them ; and that the same omniscient eye that watched over our infancy will watch over us to the end of life's pilgrimage. Home is one of the blessings that has escaped the ruins of the fall. It is the oasis in the moral desert that sur- rounds us. It is the morning star of the dawning of our existence, and the evening star of our declining years. It is the rainbow, upon the storm-cloud, that tells us of a quiet retreat from tempests of misfortune and calamity. Its pleasures remain when all other sources of worldly happiness are dried up. Its love and sympathy con- tinue, when all beside is neglect or cold indifference. In addressing you upon home influences, I would speak, in the first place, of the power of the family, in its ' relations to society and individuals. The family relation is not only a source' of pleasure and benefit to the mem- bers of the household, but it is a force or agency in society of immense power. It gives character to the public morals, and to the socis.1 institutions of a nation. In a thousand ways it acts upon the public taste, Intel- HOME INFLtJENCES. 11 ligence and virtue. In heathen communities, where there are virtually no families, where conjugal . fidelity and paternal affection are scarcely known, society is in a state of barbarism. There are no social organizations ■for mutual protection and benefit, such as exist in civilized communities. No general principles of human- ity, justice and integrity, are recognized. Property is insecure. Human life is unprotected. Systems of educa- tion and pure religion are unknown. „__-«-—- — "" Christian inissionaries can efiecTlittle towards enlight- ening and elevating such a people, until they have estab- lished the family relation. They see clearly that domestic virtue must precede and create public virtue, — that mutual confidence, integrity and faithfulness, must exist in the family, before they will appear as elements in the national character. Hence, they aim at restoring the dominion of the natural affections, and abolishing those customs that lead to the destruction of infants, the burning of widows, and the desertion of aged parents. They impress parents with a solemn sense of the duties they owe to their children; and one of the first lessons taught to children is obedience to the reasohable com- mands of their parents. In more favored communities, where there is a degree of culture and refinement, the state of the family stamps the national character. Napoleon never uttered a more important truth than when he said, "What France most needs is mothers ; " the benign influence of virtuous, Christian homes ; and at this hour this is the great want of the nations of Europe. They are without a pur© 12 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. faith, without liberty, without many of the advantages and blessipgs of life, hecause there are no mothers to guide aright the rising generation. France is again under an iron despotism because her -sons had none to instil into their minds the principles of true freedom, and to teach them how to maintain their rights. It is a significant fact that in the French language there is no word corresponding to our word " home." The name, even, does not exist. Russiar and Austria hold their power by brute force, because brute passions control the masses of the people. Let those people possess the, strength, and moral and intellectual force, that flow from enlightened Christian families, and they would tear asunder their chains, as so many gossamer threads. They would sweep tyrants from their thrones, and estab- lish and maintain a free government. In New England the family lies at the basis of all that is valuable in our public institutions. Home government maintains the national government, and the reverence for law which characterizes the community. Home religion is the source of the church religion that prevails in New England. Parents and children come up from the family altar to the sanctuary of God. The religious instruction of the nursery inclines our feet towards the temple of worship. Abolish family religion, and these churches would soon be vacant. Religion would degenerate into mere outward forms. The Sabbath, with its rich privileges and precious hopes, would pass away. Our charitable and benevolent societies, too, depend HOME INFLUENCES. , 13 upon the family relation. They are the emfcodiment of the kind feelings that are cherished in Christian homes. They are fed from the ten thousand family rivulets of affection and love. Those great enterprises that provide houses for the poor, asylums for the unfor- tunate, hospitals for the sick, — that are securing the printing of the Bible in various languages, that send missionaries of the gospel to the destitute portions of our land^ and embrace within their far-reaching charity the interests of distant islands and continents, — all rest upon Christian homes. But it is the influence of the family upon its individ- ual members which specially concerns us at the present time. Home is the garden of the affections. The strongest attachments and warmest endearments of life are found here. A kind father feels that his family are a part of himself He loves to provide for the wants of his dependent offspring. He enters into their sorrows, participates in their joys, makes their welfare identical with his own. Sacrifice after sacrifice he is willing to make for their benefit. I well remember a remark n;iade by the late venerable Judge Daggett, in one of his lec- tures upon law, before the students of Yale College. He said that in the long course of his' legal profession he had met with several sons who had, in circumstances of difficulty, abandoned their fathers ; but he never met with a father who would not cheerfully part with his last shilling to save a son. Home, too, is the sanctuary of a mother's love. What ties that unite human hearts are so imperishable as those 2 . 14 LBCTTJBES TO YOUNG MEN. that bind her to her children 1 How constant her care, how deep her anxiety, how unwearied her toil ! With what interest does she watch the opening faculties and dawning intelligence of her child. . His education, moral culture, and prospects for life, absorb her thoughts. Is he sick, — her sleepless nights, unremitting attentions, and personal sacrifices for his benefit, bear testimony to her faithfulness and affection ; and when that son leaves his home, to seek business or prosecute his studies, her warm benedictions follow him, her earnest prayers ascend to God that He would watch over him, and keep him from surrounding temptations and perils. Should he become unfortunate, and clouds of sorrow gather about his path- way, and those who had been friends in prosperity desert him, there is the warm sanctuary of a mother's heart, to which he can return. There is one voice that will cor- dially welcome him; one countenance that will smile upon him ; one being who will calm" his agitated spirit, and soothe his aching heart. If, too, a son shall break away from the restraints of ■home, and plunge into vice, still will the yearnings of a mother's heart follow him. Her happiness may give way, but not her love. The prodigal is still her son, — a son around whose infancy she watched so tenderly, and in whose career she has invested- so many hopes. He may forget her, may disregard her warning voice and be unmoved by her tears and anguish ; but she cannut for- get him. His name is engraved -upon her heart. His shildhood is entwined around her fondest recollections. She cannot think of her boy, about whom so many bright HOME INFLUENCES. 15 visions of honor and usefulness had floated in her imagination, as blighted by vice, as mingling with hard- ened profligates and profane scoffers. The cup is too bitter. The anguish is too keen. Would that son but return to the paths of virtue ! Would he but break away from the fascinations that have enticed and deluded him ; from the spell that binds him ; from the delirium that hurries him on in his perilous career ! As the thought flashes into her heart that his immortal soul is in danger, the agony is too intense. 0, that he had died when the bloom of childhood was upon him ; when at his mother's side he offered to God his infant prayer; when he spoke of Jesus, and asked about heaven, and the angels, and his Father above ! Sad as would have been that hour, melancholy as would have been the sight of the little coffin, the shroud, the cold form, silent, motionless, about to leave its home to return no more, it would have been supportable, compared with this. And, should that son reform, — should he pause in his career ; should some thought of childhood scenes, or a mother's prayers, guide him back to virtue, the first and warmest welcome would gush from a mother's heart. She would not only forgive, but forget the past. She would strengthen, by every means in her power, his good resolutions, and with her dying breath commend him to that Father who could keep him from falling, and enable him to obtain the victory. We may go still further, and follow a son through a career of crime. He may violate the laws of his country; he may become a murderer, and be incarcerated in a 16 LECTURES TO YOUNG, MEN. gloomy dungeon ; disgrace, infamy, and a felon's death, may be his portion ; yet there is one who. will not desert him, — one who will weep over him, — will, in her agony, plead with God to have mercy upon him. Though the officers and spectators around may regard him wifh in- difference or aversion, her heart is ready to burst with affection, solicitude and anguish. Any sacrifices on her part would be cheerfully made, could she but avert the terrible doom that hangs over him ; but, his fate being unalterable, as he dies her hopes die. The spring of life breaks, dark shadows fall around her, and her soul enters upon a night to which there is no morn, a night without one s^ar of hope ! Home is also a school for the culture of the strongest- religious feelings and principles. The impressions made by a parent's religious teaching, prayers and example, are the deepest and most abiding that the mind receives. They linger about the memory long after impressions from all other sources have faded away, They touch the heart, influence the conduct, and hold one back from a career of sin, long after other chords are broken. No one can wander so far from a Christian home as to be beyond the reach of its religious associations and in- fluences. He may take up his residence in a distant city, where new scenes and duties engage his attention. He may plunge into the gayeties, and even dissipation around him, and in the midst of his revelry whispering voices will tell him 'of his home, — of a pious father's anxiety, of a mother's solicitude concerning him. As he hears the pre fane oaths of his guilty companions he HOME INFLUENCES. 17 cannot but think of the many devout prayers that he has heard offered up to the holy Being who is thus insulted. As he listens to the licentious song, there will come up from the depths of his memory the hymns which his mother taught him when a child. As he takes the intoxicating cup, to drink the fiery fluid, the hand of his mother, as though grasping his, will hold it back, and the tones of her warning voice will thrill through his soul. At every step in his downward career he must sever some tie, or do violence to some tender association, that binds him to his Christian home. Wherever he may be, in whatever society or condition, these influences will follow him, as so many angel-messengers thronging his pathway, and pointing back to his home. He may drive them from him; but, faithful to their mission, they will return again. In his hours of retirement and meditation, in the quiet of night, they will visit him, and urge the claims of virtue and the duties of religion. If the son of pious parents is out upon the broad ocean, he will carry with him the remembrances of his Christian home. The Bible in his chest, placed there by a mother's hand, will remind him of her tender care and pious counsels. As the Sabbath returns, he will think of the church in which he worshipped, the pew in which he sat so many years, the Sabbath-school with its hal- lowed associations : the very tones of the church-bell, that from his infancy echoed amid his native hills, will seem to vibrate upon his ear. The voice of his pastor will be heard, discoursing of the love of Jesus and the hazards ol eternity. In hours, too, of danger, when the 2* 18 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. fierce winds howl around his ship, and the angry ivavea threaten to sweep all before them, the sailor-boy. will think of his Lome, and of the warm interest that is felt there in his welfare. I remember reading somewhere an account of a terrible storm at sea, which came On so sud- denly, and with such violence, as to spread the greatest consternation among the crew of a ship that was exposed to its fury. The maddened winds, .the foaming surges, the heavy crashes of thunder, the bending masts, the wild, melancholy music of the shrouds and strained ropes, all seemed so many precursors of the approach of death. At the moment that the tempest was at its height, a sailor-boy hastened to the captain, and assured him that they would be saved. "What reason have you for think- ing so 7" asked the captain. "Sir," said he, "this is the hour for evening prayer at home ; and I know that father is praying for me." Nor was he disappointed. The storm abated. The dark clouds broke away, and the bright stars shone down upon them ; and it was found subsequently, that at that hour the family were engaged in evening prayer, and that the absent son was fervently commended to Him who controls the waves, and can hnsh the fury of the storm. We might cite numerous instances illustrative of the power of home influences over absent sons. A clergy- man in a southern port, in the discharge, of his duties as a chaplain, was called to visit a sailor who was sup- posed to be dying from a malady occasioned by his profligacy. He addressed him, with great earnestness and afiection, upon the subject of his soul's salvation. HOME INFLUENCES. 19 With an oath, the sick man ordered him to leaye the room, and not trouble him in his dying hours. The clergyman, however, idsisted upon warning him of his danger, and urgfid him to repent of his sins before it was too late. The man remained apparently unconcerned, and prjetended to sleep during a prayer which was offered in his behalf. Again and again the chaplain visited hipi, but with no apparent success. One day, the sick man made use of an expression which led his bene- factor to suspect that he was a Scotchman. In order to ascertain the fact, he repeated the stanza of a psalm from the Scotch version of Psalms, which was familiar to him." Immediately the sailor roused up, and manifested the deepest emotion. Tears started in his eyes, indicating that a tender chord of liis heart had been touched. The minister, knowing the universality of family religious instruction among the Scotch, ventured to inquire about his mother. At the mention of the word, the prodigal son burst into tears, amd seemed for a time overwhelmed by the intensity of his feelings. He acknowledged that he had a pious mother, who early taught him the great truths of religion. Long siuoe he had left her, and been a jpoor wanderer upon the ocean and the land, exposed to temptations and dangers of every kind. The chaplaim now secured his confidence, and gained access to his heart. Through .the home influences that had remained entwined around his affections during a long course of dissipation, he reached his conscience, and led him to the cross of Christ On recovering his health, the sailor gave satisfactory evidence that he was a child of God. 20 LBCTTJKBS TO YOUNG MEN. I hare read of an orphan sailor who left his home at an early age, and, after years spent in yice, returned to his native village, in search of his widowed mother. Approaching his residence, he knocked at the door, but no one came to admit him. He called aloud, but no reply" was received. AH was silent as the tomb. At length, a neighbor, seeing his anxiety and distress, inquired of him whom he was seeking. Scarcely able to give utter- ance to his words, — for he feared the worst, — he stam- mered out the names of his mother and little brother. The neighbor, in tones of pity and with a heart touched with sympathy, informed him that the boy died a year since, and that this severe affliction, in connection with the mother's distress and anxiety for a son, long absent at sea, had hurried her to the grave. But yesterday, the good woman was buried. The intelligence was like a lightningjstroke to the young man's heart. He could not find words to express his bitter anguish, and sense of his own wickedness, in being the cause of so much grief to a pious, devoted mother. Could he have seen her but for an hour ! Could he have implored her forgive- ness ! Could he have mingled one drop of consola- tion in her cup of sorrow ! But yesterday she was lowered in the cold and silent grave. The fresh sods marked her resting-place, whither the youth would have gladly gone, that he might die with her. The neighbor, on learning that the young man was the widow's eldest son, said that she had a letter for him which his mother wrote a few days before she died HOME INELUENCBS. , 21 and desired might be given to him, should he ever return It was in these words : " My dearest, only Son : When this reaches you I shall be no more. Your little brother has gone before me, and I cannot but hope and believe that he wa3 pre- pared. I had fondly hoped that I should once more have seen you on the shores of mortality; but this hope is now relinquished. I have followed you, by my prayers, through all your wanderings. Often, while you little suspected it, even in the dark, cold nights in winter, have I knelt for my lost son. There is but one thing that gives me pain at dying, and that is, my dear William, that I must' leave you in this wicked world, as I fear, unreconciled to your Maker. I am too feeble to say more. My glass is run. As you visit the sods which cover my dust, 0, remember that you, too, must soon follow ! Farewell ! The last breath of your mother will be spent in. praying for you, that we may meet above." This letter from his dying mother stirred the deepest fountains of feeling in his heart. All the warm associa- tions connected with his childhood and his home, rushed upon his memory. ' The thousand instances of a mother's kindness came up before him. He thought of her coun- sels, prayers, tears, hours of anxiety ; her sickness, the last struggle, the cold form, the new-made grave ; and he resolved that he would abandon his sinful course, and s«rve his Maker. The resolution, with divine, aid, he 22 ' LECTURES TO YOtNG MEN. was enabled to keep; and lie became a useful member of society, and a devoted Christian. Tbe world, indeed, is full of the rich fruits of a father's faithfulness and a mother's prayers. What multitudes of youths have been saved from a career of profligacy, disgrace and ruin, by the restraining influence of home ! What multitudes have been prevented from entering the dark regions of infidelity by the remem- brance of some sacred hymn, or passages, of scripture, that a pious mother taught them in their infancy ! The eccentric but distinguished John Randolph once made to an intimate friend the following statement: "I used to be called a Frenchman, because I took the French side in politics ; and, though this was unjust, the truth is that I should have been a French atheist, if it had not been for one recollection, and that was the memory of the time when my departed mother used to take my little hands in hers, and cause me on my knees to say, ' Our Father which art in heaven.' " Many, too, of the most holy and eminent men who have adorned the Christian faith, and secured an im- perishable influence, have been indebted for their power to home religious culture. We might trace along from the earliest periods of Christianity the long line of illus- trious heroes who have stood forth for God and truth amid prevaihng error, superstition and persecution'; and we should find that, in almost every instance, parental instruction was at the foundation of the eminent virtues and heroic fortitude of these men. St. Chrysostom, the earnest and devoted Bishop of Constantinople, enjoyed SOME INFLUENCES. 23 the best early advantages. His pious nwtlier instilled into his infant inind the precious doctrines of the Bible, and gave direction to those mental powers that were con- secrated to the service of the church. The conversion and eminent usefulness of St. Augus- tine afford a striking example of the power of a mother's influence. Although in early life he embraced error and wandered from the paths of virtue, yet the faith of his mother was strong that the seed which she had sown in his young mind would not be lost ; and although it was not until he reached his thirty-first year that he became a penitent believer in Jesus, yet afterwards, so great was his zeal and devotion, that the lustre of his genius and the light of his holy example spread over the whole church. I need not point you to Doddridge, who, when a little boy, was taught by his pious mother the Bible truths that were printed upon the tiles at the fire-side. I need not remind you Qf the history of the Rev. John Newton, or that of the heavenly-minded Payson, the glow of whose piety was kindled by the instructions and prayers of his mother ; or that of President Dwight, or the devoted Samuel J. Mills, the self-denying Swartz, and a host of others, whose lives illustrate in a remark- able manner the blessing of God upon family religious instruction. These eminent members of the Christian church stand out as enduring monuments of the power of parental faithfulness. At this hour how many youth theire are in our cities, upon the broad ocean, and in foreign countries, who are daily feeling the influences that flow from early culture : 24 LECTUBBS TO TOUNG MEN. from the family altar around which they kneeled in theii morning and evening devotions ; from the church ir. which they worshipped ; from the Sabbath-school where their powers were developed amid sacred -influences and the voice of prayer and praise ! These chords of interest and love that hind them to the past are so many tele- graphic wires, along which they are constantly receiving messages to remember the instructions of home, to avoid the paths of temptation and vice, to obey God, love the Saviour, live for eternity. These Christian homes, too, have awakened an interest in these youth in the far-distant regions of the universe. The eye of a covenant-keeping God, to whom they were solemnly dedicated in baptism, rests upon ' them. The Saviour, who died to redeem them, is anxious to enroll their names in the book of life. Hosts of angels and glorified saints bend over the battlements of the new Jerusalem, watching, with the deepest solicitude, for their return, and ready to rejoice over their salvation. Pious fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers, who have gone to the spirit-land, are anxious to meet the surviving members of their family in the streets of the celestial city, and rejoice with them in the blessings and glories of redemption. If there are ties of affection and interest here, who will say that death severs these ties, and that in the spirit- world they cease to exist? Have we not rather reason to suppose, that these ties are in- creased by the experiences of the future life, and that a mother in heaven is even more desirous of the salvation of her children than she could have been while upon the* HOME INFLUENCES. 25 «artli 1 Certainly, her estimate of the value of the soul Aas increased; her conceptions of the love of the Saviour, and th« glories of heaven, are more vivid than they could have been while she was upon the earth. I beheve that there are sacred home influences that descend upon us from the skies. I have lost a Christian father, and yet he is not lost. He still lives, — lives, I trust, near to the throne of God, — lives anxious to wel- come those who were dear to him on earth in that bright world, upon the splendors of which he has already gazed, and the enrapturing joys of which he has already experienced. Some of you have buried pious mothers ; but, if the spirit of the departed mother Hves, her affection for you lives. That can never die. Nor are the home influences on earth, of which we have spoken, confined to the past. This Sabbath night, in ten thousand New England homes, prayers are ascend- ing from as many family altars, for the blessing of God to rest upon absent children. You who are far from your Christian homes are remembered at the throne of grace. The supplications that are ofiered in your behalf are Ernest and importunate ; perhaps they are accom- panied with strong crying ' and tears. You may be strangers here, but there are hearts that beat with intense solicitude for your welfare. The world may seem to some of you cold, selfish, unsympathizing ; but there is a warm family circle where your name is mentioned ■ffith affection, where a deep interest is felt in all that 3 26 LECTURES TO TOUN& MEN. concerns you, where kind hearts rejoice in y^ur joys, and mingle their sympathies with your sorrow?. But with the advantages and blessings of a Christian home there are connected solemn obligations and duties. If there is a being upon the earth who is under special ob- ligations to love God and obey his commands, that being is the child of Christian parents. For in infancy he was dedicated to the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost. His powers and faculties opened amid the genial in- fluences of Christian faith and love. The first words that he learnt to utter were the broken words of an infant -prayer. The first scenes that impressed his imagination and excited emotion were connected with the birth of Christ, thevisitof the angels, the miracles, the crucifixion, death and resurrection, of Jesus. Thus the mind, in its earliest stages, had infused into it the spirit and principles of the gospel. It was born and nurtured amid holy influences ; and, in the career of an account- able and immortal being, I cannot Conceive anything more awful than for such a youth to break away from these early instructions, and plunge into infidelity or vice. To break up the influence of early religious associations amid scenes of revelry and dissipation, to hush the whisperings of conscience, to -blast the hopes oi fond parents, exhibits a recklessness that language cannot ex- press. Kemember, that if you fall you do not fall alone. You drag down others with you. You smite, as with a pestilential blast, the home that nourished you. Its sun- shine you turn into darkness ; its gayety into mourning its bright prospects into despair. HOME INFLUENCES. 27 If you are resolved to walk in the paths of sin, far bet- ter for you had you been born in a heathen land, and been taught to bow in worship before rude idols, and been reared amid ignorance, superstition and naoral darkness ! Far better had no light from Calvary dawned upon your pathway, and no voices of mercy reached your ears ! Before closing, let me point you to another home, beyond the stars ; a home bright with celestial glory ; a home of enduring friendship and angelic love. Let me persuade you to aspire to reach that ; for it is worthy of your highest efforts. It will repay you for the toil, self- discipline, and struggles of a life. There a Heavenly Father will greet you with smiles. Jesus, your elder brother, will conduct you to mansions prepared for you. In that home no sickness, sorrow or death, will ever enter. No cloud will obscure its brightness. No tears will mingle with its joys. No funeral processions will move through the streets. No graves will be opened. No sad partings will be experienced. The union, the harmony, the happiness, will be immortal. *' What shall the unveiled glories he of our celestial home. Where waves the glorious tree of life, where streams of bliss gush free, And all is glowing in the light of immortality ? To see again the home of youth, when weary years have passed. Serenely bright as when we turned and looked upon it last ; To hear the voice of love, to meet the rapturous embrace. To gaze, through tears of gladness, on each dear familiar face. 0, this, indeed, is joy ! though here we meet again to part;- But what transporting bliss awaits the pure and faithful heart. When it shall find the loved and lost, those who have gone before. Where every tear is wiped away, where partings come no more ! " II. FORMATION OP CHAEACTEE. ♦' Wliei vw.lh. shall a young man cleanse his way ? By taking heed thareto, according to thy word." — Psaim 119 j 9. Thb primary meaning of the word character is a mark made by cutting or engraving on any substance, as wood, stone, or metal. Hence, as applied to man, it signifies the marks or impressions made upon the mind. The instruments in producing diese impressions are the thoughts, words, and deeds. Every thought that enters the mind, every purpose that is formed, as well as every external action, leaves its mark. Besides, a variety of influences and circumstances contribute to the formation of the character. The natural endowments of the intellect, the susceptibilities and passions of the soul, the circumstances of birth, edjication, social position, all help to form the character. It is the product of many forces, some of which act upon us from without, and others from within. Character is, in one sense, the whole of a man's being. Tt is all that is really vital, that possesses genuine worth SOEMATION OF CHARACTER. . 29 and permanent infljience. It i3 the revelation that we make to the ■world of^ our inward force, virtues, and prin- ciples. It defines one's position in society, affords the means of success in life, renders one distinguished or obscure, happy or wretched. Every man has some character, some distinctive marks by which he is known, and with which his name is always associated. We can no more think of a person without calling to mind his character, than we can think of the sun without the idea of light, or of a flower with- out the idea of beauty. We cannot pass an acquaintance in the' street without feeling that his character touches us, and affects us for good or evil. We cannot mingle in the society of another without every moment receiving impressions from his principles, habits, and course of life. The importance and value of a good character cannot be over-estimated. Without it, wealth, learning, or any external advantages, can be of but little real service. A person may be surrounded with luxuries, may enjoy the most ample opportunities for mental culture, may be appointed to a position of honor and responsibility, and yet, without sound, virtuous principles, he can be neither useful nor happy. We have intimated that there are two classes of forces that contribute to the formation of character, — those which are external and those which are internal. Over the former we cannot always have control. The latter are in our power, and are the most influential in creating the character. Let us notice some of them. S* 30 , f ECTUEBS TO TOTJWa MEN. One of the most potent of these internal agencies is thought. Such is the nature of mind that the processes of thought, during our wakeful hours, are as continuous as the emission of light from the sun, or the motion of the earth in its orbit. Ideas of some kind are contin- ually passing through the mind, and leaving behind them a distinct impression. They constitute the society in which the spirit lives and moves. Inspiration has said, ''As a man thinbeth, so is he." His thoughts make up the substance and essence of his being. They form the blood that courses through the mental system, give sen- sibility and healthful action to the nerves, and produce the bona and muscle of our executive power. They shape the motives, form the principles, and enter into all the mental and moral machinery of the soul. It may not always be in one's power to decide what thoughts shall, by the laws of association, or the suggest- ive influence of surrounding objects, enter the mind ; but we can decide what shall be retained or cherished. If evil thoughts or sceptical views force themselves upon the attention, it is in the power of the will to retain or banish them. If fostered, they will leave their mark, and spread their poisonous influence over the soul. They will prepare the way for an infidel character, by drawing off the afiections from God, ipreoccupying the mind with tendencies to error, arid excluding the influences of divine truth. If impure thoughts are ch&rished, their weaken- ing and debasing influence will soon be felt. The youth may indulge himself in ideal views of forbidden pleasure, and may imagine that there is no danger in entertaining • FORMATION OF CHAKACXEK. 31 them in the inner and secret chambers of the soul. He may admit these thoughts under the full intention of never allowing them to ripen into purposes, or to mould his character. ~ The gates are thrown open, and the army allowed to enter and pitch their tents, under the idea that those tents can he easily struck, and the host be easily routed. But a possession thus obtained by the enemy is not so readily relinquished. Those frail tents afford shelter to forces that are busy in erecting citadels, which in after years the deluded youth may in vain attempt to demolish. Some persons may complain of their liability to be thus assailed by evil thoughts, at a peiiod of life when the mind is so susceptible to their influence. But it may be true that the benefits accruing from resisting these foes are such as can be derived from no other source. A strong and lofty character may need as much the self- discipline which arises from the exercise of resistance, as it needs the beneficial influence of pure and holy thoughts. Indeed, we cannot see how one can acquire moral strength without the disciplinary exercise of resisting temptation in some of its forms. The blessing is pro- nounced, not upon the man that escapeth, but upon him who " endure th temptation." Our words also aid in forming the character. Words have been called ''the incarnation of thought." They are to ideas what tne body is to the soul. They endow them with a personal and visible existence ; and, if it is true, as some writers tell us, that words once uttered produce vibrations upon the atmosphere that never cease, 82 LECTUBBS TO YOUNG MEN. » and make an indelible impression upon the universe, how much more must they affect the sensitive nature of man ! How much more must they impress the youthful mind, when, in its plastic state, it is susceptible to the faintest breath of influence, and feels the pressure of every object with which it comes Jn contact.. We are all aware of the lasting impressions that one receives from the conversation and sentiments of those with whom he habitually associates. So well understood is this, that it is a common saying that "a man is known by the company he keeps." But it is equally true that our own words have a marked effect upon ourselves. They exert a reflex influence, which tends greatly to strengthen the sentiment or principle to which they give utterance. An impure word sends back into the soul an impure influence. It taints the source from which it sprung. It is sure to demoralize the speaker, though it may fail to injure the listener. The rebound of a can- non is certain, though the shot may not hit the mark at which it is aimed. A blasphemous word flashes back atheism into the heart. Each repetition of the oath blasts the moral virtues and sentiments, until they all wither and die. A false word renders the speaker more false, and disturbs the foundations of all integrity. Every nerve is a telegraphic wire, that conveys th^ sound to the seat of vlife, and transmits it through all the chambers of the soul. Let one with sceptical tendencies give utterance to his views, and attempt by arguments to sustain them, and, though his opponent may not be con- FORMATION OP CHARACTER. 33 vinced by his reasoning, he will himself return from the field more confirmed itt his scepticism. His words will increase the blackness of the dark cloud which previously overshadowed his spirit. On the other hand, we are beneficially impressed by every truthful and virtuous utterance. A holy thought, clothed ia suitable language, stands out bef6re the mind as a beauteous figure in white robes, pointing its author towards the skies. It becomes a spiritual companion, to lift the soul upward, to aid it in its noblest aspirations. How much of the power of prayer may lie in the reflex influence of the uttered words upon the suppliant! With the very expression of the desire may be connected the reception of the blessing. In fact, how often it hap- pens that the words scarcely escape the lips before the soul feels that the request is granted ! How hgp^ful, then, is the condition of the praying youth ! With his faculties opening and his powers developing under the warm breath and amid the sacred influences of prayer, how speedily will they ripen into a holy character ! How stimulating to him to know that not only every prayer, but that every holy word, is listened to and remembered by the supreme Father ! "Then tiiey that feared the Lord spake often one to another, and the Lord hearkened and heard it ; and a book of remembrance was written before him, for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name." Besides our thoughts and words, our deeds contribute to the formation of the character. Every action is a stone or pillar in the structure which we are daily 34 LBCTUEBS TO YOUNa MEN. employed in erecting. The idea prevails, to some extent, that the conduct in the season of youth, for instance, need not sensibly impress the character ; and that it will be time enough to cultivate the stern principles of integ- rity, virtue and piety, in maturer age, when the ardor of youth shall have abated, when reason shall have gained dominion over the passions, and the mind be more sus- ceptible to the claims of duty than to the enticements of pleasure. But an idea more false, more destructive to an exalted character and noble achievements, cannot be entertained. As well might the husbandman delay sow- ing his seed until the spring and summer are past, and the ground hardened ,by the frosts of a rigorous winter. As well might one who is desirous of enjoying firm health inoculate his system with the seeds of disease, — with the plague or the cholera, — and expect at such time as he may see fit to_recover from its effects, and banish the malady. It is true that, by the special favor of heaven, a reformation may be wrought in mature or advanced age ; but a moral constitution once shattered can never fully, in this life at least, recover from the shock which it has received. Sins may be repented of, but they can- not be annihilated. God may grant forgiveness, and the soul may have faith in rehgion ; but that faith must be maintained by many a struggle against the evil tendencies of a perverted nature. Progress may be made in virtue and holiness ; but every step in that progress is a victory over hostile forces. Every inch costs intense efforis, perhaps burning teirs and soul-consuming agonies. The battle rages, not simply with external, but also with FORMATION OB CHARACTEK. 35 iiiternal foes. A double conflict must be carried for- ward, that requires unceasing vigilance and indomitable energy. In the case of the reformed inebriate, how difficult, in many instances at least, is it for him to hold on to his reformation ! How hard the struggle to keep down the TOlcanic fires that are burning and raging within him ! How many weighty motives, drawn from a regard to health, reputation, peace of mind, — drawn from the eternal world, — must be piled upon the tyrant appetite, to keep it from springing upon him, and overmastering his good resolutions, and hurling him back into disgrace, agony and ruin ! He may, it is true, be successful ; but what a price njiust he pay, what a wealth of energy must he expend, to obtain the victory ! A person, too, who in youth indulged in sin, may, in after life, become, a useful member of society ; but a far higher degree of usefulness would have been reached, could he have brought to his work the strength of un- impaired faculties, .and the power of a culture thg,t com- menced with the earliest development of the mind. Life is too short, time is too valuable, to permit any to waste the most precious years of their existence. Our mission is too solemn, our work too mighty, to be entered upon with crippled energies and weakened powers. But our actions give a rapid growth to character, be- cause they early bring it under the power of habits that bind the soul as with chains of iron. This power of habit, which may be defined the ability of doing that easily which we do frequently, was conferred upon us by 36 LEOTUKES TO YOUNG MEN. the Creator with the most beneficent design. Its pur- pose was to aid a moral being in forming a vigorous and holy character, and to give strength to right principles. A temptation resisted in successive conflicts is deprived of its power over the mind, and the very resistance ripens into a habit with which it is in vain for the adversary to contend. A habit of prayer renders the duty easy and delightful. So, in a course of holy obedience, or benevr olent effort, the propelling influence of this power is strongly felt. Nor is it unreasonable to suppose that this power contributes ia a great- measure to the stability of the holiness and happiness of heavenly beings. But, if perverted, it acts with fearful energy in an opposite direction.. It confirms one in a sinful course, and hurries him down from one stage of wickedness to another with accelerated velocity. The youth, by failing to resist the first temptation, finds the difficulties increased in the second conflict, and in the third they become still more formidable. Besides, he approaches his enemy, after lip first defeat, with impaired energies, with the consciousness of rectitude gone, with the stain of sin upon his soul. His repeated acts of wickedness soon become a habit that holds him within its terrible grasp • and it may shortly be as easy for an Ethiopian to change his skin, or a leopard his spots, as for one accustomed to do evil to learn to do well. After experiencing some of the disastrous conseq^uences of his vicious course, and feeling the degradation of hia slavery, the youth may desire to escape,. He may, in bis moments of meditation and remorse, strive to tear EOKMATION OF CHARACTER. 37 the manacles from his limbs, and break the chiins that bind him to his cruel task-masters. But those manacles and chains are not so easily shaken off. The tyrant vice whom he has enthroned in his heart is not so easily hurled from his seat. While he is able, he will retain his position, and blast with his foul breath the fine sen- sibilities and noble aspirations of the soul. He will make, if possible, a wreck of that which was designed as " a temple of the living God." lii how many instances, even before the season of youth has passed away, is a miserable character formed, concerning which there is no hope of reformation or im- provement ! As though the blasts of a fearful pestilence had swept over it, as though the fires of a conflagration had consumed it, the virtues are withered, and all that was pure or noble is destroyed. Were vice presented to the young in all its odious features and destructive consequences, they would shrink back with dismay from its contaminating influence. But, veiling her deformities, she appears in an alluring and attractive form, attended with music and dancing, and a thousand fascinating pleasures. She invites her votaries to break away from the restraints of a rigid and coH virtue ; to disregard the threatenings of the Bible and the admonitions of conscience, and drink the cup of pleasure ■v^hile the spirits are buoyant, and the springs of life are fresh and active. And truly her path seems, at first, to be strewed with flowers, and her bowers to be decked with garlands of the richest hue. The soul is enchanted with her music, and all anxious thoughts are drowaed in 4 88 LECTURES TO TOUNG MEN. revelry and mirth. But soon the scene clianges, — rapidty fearfully clianges. The hright prospects begin to fade and conscience whispers of remorse ! Spectral forms rise up before the victim of sin, and breathe in his ear the words judgment, retribution, eternity ! The tide of agony, deep, rapid, begins to flow, — a tide that no sighs, tears or pleadings, can check. The voice of reason having been slighted, the laws of heaven having been trod- den under foot, — all that is valuable in infinite wisdom, awful in authority, and touching iri goodness, having been disregarded, — the deluded man must chng to what he can gather from the wreck of his happiness. But, with his hopes shattered and prospects blasted, he wakes up to a consciousness of his situation when it is too late to remedy the evil. He struggles to tear off his chains, when they are too heavy and too strong to be broken. In addition to these inward forces that contribute to the formation of the character, there are external influences and- circumstances which materially aid in its develop- ment. The advantages of early education, the society into which the youth is thrown, the companions of his boyhood, the spirit of the age in which he lives, the state of learning, science and the arts, the civil institutions under which he is reared, the current theology of the day, all have their influence in moulding the character. Extreme poverty or 'excessive wealth are obviously unfavorable to the fullest development and highest cul- ture. The enervating influence of wealth exerts, per- haps, a more disastrous influence than the discourage- ments of poverty. For, while one is surrounded with SOKMATION OE CHAEACTEK. 39 every luxury, and has the means of gratifying every desire, it is extremely difficult for him to arouse himself, and shake off the natural indolence of the mind. Hence, comparatively few of this class have attained to eminence in any branches of learning, or made a marked im- pression upon the world's history. On the other hand, those who have early been called upon to face the evils of poverty have felt the necessity of making strenuous efforts in order to rise above the adverse circumstances vrhich surrounded them. They have felt that they must struggle against the tide, or be swept away by it. Especially, if they would attain to eminence, they have seen that, in the absence of wealth, influential friends, and other external advantages, they must supply their place by persevering toil, and energetic effort. It is a favorable circumstance for- the youth of our country, that the means of subsistence are to so great an extent equally distributed, and that the advantages of education, and mental and rehgious culture, are within the reach of all classes. The barriers which in past ages limited these benefits to the -few whose wealth or rank elevated them above the masses have been thrown down. The gates of the temple of religion and knowl- edge are thrown open to all, affording to the high and low, the rich and the poor, the same opportunities for mental culture and honorable distinction in society. All may start in the race together, and compete for the prizes before them ; knowing that they will be distributed, not according to the accidents of birth, wealth or patronage, but as the rewards of industry, and high intellectual and jnoral attainmelits. 40 LBCTDRES TO YOUNG MEN. Each compi.!!titor, too, may feel the stimulus that flo-vrs from our free institutions ; from the general intelligence around him; the enterprise of the age; from a pure religious faith, and from those great schemes of philanr thropy and Christian benevolence that distingukh our times, and embrace within their far-reaching charity the interests of a world. As he breathes the air of liberty, he cannot fail to experience its exhilarating and quick- ening influence. He cannot fail to contrast his advan- tages with those of multitudes in other lands, who are fettered in thought, as well as in person, by the systems of despotism, or the tyranny of arbitrary social dis- tinctions, under which they live. As he is impressed by the spirit of activity around him, he cannot allow his own energies to slumber. As he sees the inviting fields for usefulness and" honorable effort that are spread out before him, he cannot but have his desires kindled ta accomplish something worthy of the age in which h« lives, and of the country which has given him birth. Everything around and above him raises its cheering voice, and bids him "onward." The heroes of the past, who have toiled and suffered to secure these rich advan- tages, send up their earnest appeals to him, to be faith- ful and reap the glorious harvest before him. They plead with him not to throw away his inheritance ; not to squander his birthright; not to trample beneath his feet those golden opportunities which have cost ages of toil, and which, once lost to him, are lost forever ! How many of the aged, whose career on earth is soon l» close, reflect with the keenest sorrow upon the follies FORMATION OF CHARACTER. 41 of their youth, — upon their failure to form a character based upon the principles of virtue and integrity ! They can now see what a noble theatre for action and achieve- ment they have neglected to enter ; what an amount of happiness that was within their reach they have failed to secure ; what splendid prizes they might have obtained, but which are now beyond their grasp. ^Had their oppoi"- tunities been less favorable for success and distinction, — had they been born under despotic institutions, or in an age of ignorance, or amid the darkness of heathenism, — there would be circumstances to alleviate their anguish. But, to have breathed the air of freedom, and yet voluntarily become the slaves of sin ; to have been sur- rounded with the treasures of knowledge, and yet re- mained poor in thought and intellectual culture ; to have been reared amid Christian churches, and yet have infidel hearts ; to know of a heaven for which no pre- paration has been made, — this is anguish which can be realized only by experience. 0, prize a virtuous, holy character ! Its value cannot be estimated ! The bless- ings flowing from it cannot be numbered ! It " is more precious than rubies, and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto" it. It is your life, the very substance of your being here, and your hope for immortality. For, when you die, you must leave behind friends, riches, and all worldly advantages; but you will take your characters, and as these are true or false, holy or sinful, in the view of the great J^dge, your djstiny will be decided for eternity. 4* III. ENERGY OP CHAUACTER. " I must vork ie works of him that sent me, -while it is day : th« night oometh when no man can work." — St. John 9 : 4. Such was the earnest and sublime utterance of Hinji, who, though a divine being, yet felt the importance of making the most strenuous efforts for the accomplishment of his mission. Conscious that he had but a short time in which to work, — that the night of death was at hand, when no labor could.be performed, — he aimed at filling up every day and every hour with useful endeavors. He never lost sight of the fact that he had a great work to achieve, a vast system of truth to unfold, — principles to illustrate, virtues to develop, a world to redeem and save. He 'must work ; for he had come to change the face of society, — to revolutionize empires, undermine systems of iniquity, lift mankind from their degradation, superstition and moral darkness, into the regions of light, truth, and heavenly blessedness. Hence we find him constantly employed in instructing his .disciples, or preaching to the multitude, or healing the sick, or en- ENERGY OF CHAKACTBR. 43 gaged in soma duty bearing upon his great mission t© earth. Although our work can by no means compare, in mag- nitude and importance, with that of the divine Redeemer, yet it is true that every one who is born intff the world has a mission to accomplish. He is sent forth by the Creator, endowed with mental and moral faculties, — with reason, judgment, conscience, and will, — that he may per- form a specific work. This design is as apparent as that the sun is placed in the heavens to shine, or the earth, with its atmosphere, vegetation and treasures, is adapted to the nature of man. Each individual is an agency in the moral universe of God, that, for aught we can tell, is indispensable to the carrying forward of his plans, and the accomplishment of his highest purposes. Each one has heights to climb, or depths to explore, or fields of knowledge to traverse, or mysteries to unravel, or some principle or virtue to illustrate, which renders his being of great importance. If the minutest insect is cre- ated with a specific design ; if each one of the millions of animalculse that find accommodation, sustenance and employment, in a drop of water, is summoned into being to aid in fulfilling some plan upon which the infinite Jehovah has entered ; if not a sparrow falleth to the ground without our Heavenly Father's notice ; and if the very hairs of our head are all numbered, — can we regard as unimportant the existence and mission of an intellect- ual and immortal being? "Are ye not of more value than many sparrows'?" One human life, however short or obscure, may be vital with interests and consequences 44 LECTURES TO YOTJNG MEN. of infinite moment. There may stream forth from it currents of influence, that shall flow on, deepening, widening, and increasing in force, forever. Even the infant, whose existence is limited to a day, may come to fiilfil an important missiop. It may stir some affection in the maternal heart, or teach some lesson of mortality, that may be attended with infinite consequences. It may come as an angel messenger from the eternal throne, to bestow immortal blessings, though it tarry but for a day. In fulfilling, with honor and success, the great mission of life, it is of high importance that the youth possess energy of character. Other qualities, however valuable, can be of little service without this. One may possess talents, imagination, a fine taste ; he may have admirable moral qualities, — conscientiousness, integrity, benevo- lence ; but the propelling-power of his being imist be energy. These other qualities are indeed essential to success ; but there must be executive force in the soul to render them operative. There must be fire within, to quicken them into life, and to give them a glow that will cause them to shed their radiance upon others. Many youth, endowed with excellent mental and moral qualities, fail of success in life for the want of this single principle. "Their plans are constantly fluctuating. They cannot fix upon any defiinite course Of action. A purpose formed to-day is abandoned to-morrow. A slight diffi- culty, an unexpected obstacle, the advice of a friend or the taunt of an enemy, is suiBcient to break up a pkn, which had been formed under a ^ow of enthusiasm, and with the njDst confident eispectalion that it would be ENERGY OB CHARACTER. 45 BuccesaMly prosecuted. Even the different moods in wliicli the mind is thrown from day to day, or at different . periods of the same day, may exert a controlling influ- ence over the purposes of life. While the mind is indulging in a revery, the future may ssem filled with lasting joys and unfading honors. Bright castles float in the air, and adorn the vision upon which the mental eye is fixed ; the prizes of ambition appear to be almost within the grasp ; the ascent up Mount Parnassus seems easy, and the gold of Ophir sparkles amid the brilliancy that overspreads the scene. But soon the mists set in, and gradually obscure the vision. The ardor of the mind abates. The castles fade away ; dark shadows fall fast and thick ; and all looks dreary and hopeless. But the reality has not changed. The objects are as fixed under one view, or state of mind, as another. A city with its streets, habitations, churches and towers, is as real in the darkness of midnight as when under the blazing light of a meridian sun. Though we may not see it, this does not affect the fact of its existence. Its business, too, may be suspended without being destroyed. And he who, with the return of each morning's light, improves the opportunities that the day affords, is as sure to make progress as though the light was continuous and the day uninterrupted. So with the youth in prosecuting the great work of life. Let him at all times, and under all circumstances, have faith in the reality and value of the prizes that are before him, — let him, amid darkness and storms, as well as in sunshine 46 LELTXJEES TO YOUNG MEN. and prosperity, be under tlie control of an inflexible energy of purpose, — and he cannot fail of success. Among tbe constituent elements that enter into de- cision of charapter, we would specify, in the first place, a strong self-reliance. By this we do not mean an undue estimate of one's powers or attainments, or a dogged adherence to our own opinions, simply because we hare formed them. We would not hare a person confound energy with obstinacy, or resolution of purpose with an irrational self-will ; for the presence of these lat- ter qualities is as fatal to success as the absence of the former. They shut the door to improvement, obstruct the progress of a healthful mental and moral culture, and excite disgust in those who might befriend the youth. But we mean, by this element, a just confidence in one's ability to do the work which the Creator has assigned to him ; an abiding consciousness that the actiye, thinking, energizing principle within him has not been made in vain ; a deep conviction that he has not only an import- ant mission to accomplish, but that he has faculties and powers adequate to the task. He need not flatter him- self that he is a genius, or that his talents are of a supe- rior order, or that there are aily special reasons why he should succeed while others fail. It is enough for him to feel that an infinite God made him, and that an in- finite God has made nothing in vain. There are the marks of a divine workmanship upon his soul; and into that soul may have fallen a spark of ethereal fire, which if kindled, may shed light upon the world. The youth may have but one talent. Let him, then, rely upon that • ENERGY OF CHARACTER. 47 let him cultivate it ; let him resolve that, God helping him, it shall do the work assigned to it. Let km not, because he has not five or ten talents, go and bury it in a napkin. It is one talent, — a spiritual gift from the infinite Deity. It is a gem which admits of a lustre that may shine long after suns shall have become dim, and stars shall have faded from the heavens. According to the parable, there is a responsibility connected with this humble gift which the possessor cannot shake off. The inquiry for him to institute is not " How many talents has tho Great Master given to me 7" but, "What use shall I make of what he has given? — How shall I best fulfil my mission, be that mission great or small 1 The Creator, for the wisest reasons, has seen fit to grant me but one talent. These reasons it does not concern me to investigate, or criticize, or quarrel with. My duty is plain, and it is imperative, — to use that talent to the best possible advantage." It is by no means the most brilliantly endowed intel- lects that are the most useful, or attain to the highest distinction. The lustre of many a genius has faded early ; and mental endowments that gave promise of the richest fruits have been wasted by irresolution or pro- crastination. It is not the "most fertile portions of the earth where we find the greatest wealth and prosperity. With the richest soil, and most abundant vegetation, and even inexhaustible mineral resources, are often connected a people marked for their imbecility, ignorance and pov- erty ; while, with few natural advantages, — as, for ex- ample, in New England, — a community may thrive, and 48 LECTURES TO TOUNG MEN. be distinguished not only for wealth, but for the highest intellectual and moral attainments. With a rough soil, a rigorous, chmate, and few important articles of export be- side granite and ice, a people, by the force of energy, may surround themselves with luxuries, and live in splendor ; they may have leisure- to traverse the various depart- ments of literature, and explore the mines of science ; have the means of relieving the wants of the poor, and sustaining a system of charities unparalleled in the his- tory of the world. And what may be done, under the power of this principle, by a community, may be done by an individual. Indeed, the force of a community is only the aggregate of individual forces. A nation's power is only an organization of the powers of the individual members or subjects. And it is true, both of nations and individuals, that, without internal force, all external advantages can be of but little service. A fertile soil, mineral wealth, fine 'harbors, noble rivers, will be no more, to a people without energy, than refined society, books, institutions of learning and' other advantages, will be to a youth destitute of this principle. We see in the same latitudes the greatest diversity of national charaotei and power. And we see, on the same arena, one youth attaining to the highest excellence, and seizing the noblest prizes, while another utterly fails, and is the victim of disappointment and wretchedness. Within the circle of the same family are often found the purest virtues and the most debasing vices, the highest intellectual culture and an entire neglect of the mental faculties, the loftiest and holiest ambition and the most grovelling desires ENERGY OF CHAEACTER. 49 With precisely similar early advantages, and from tinder the tuition of the same teacher, one youth may pursue a path which is " as a shining light, shining brighter and brighter unto the perfect day," while another may take a downward course, in which every step involves him in deeper darkness and more intricate perplexities. The great mistake of many a youth is, "in depending upon external advantages, rather than internal force. One prides himself upon the high respectability of his family ; another, upon his father's wealth ; another, upon having been educated within the walls of a distinguished college ; • another, upon having travelled in foreign lands, and visited places and scenes connected with eminent heroes, poets or philosophers. Now, either or all of these, if relied upon without accompanying inward force, will prove to be but broken reeds. A claim to regard or distinction based upon aristocratic relations is, in this republican land at least, calculated to excite intense and universal disgust. Aristocracy, indeed, is a relic of bar- barism, that is at war with the best interests and highest culture of society. It has as much to do with a man's real worth as the shape or quality of his coat has to do with his character. And, in most instances, with those who depend upon this, circumstance, all that is vital in the race became long since extinct, in the death of their* ancestors. The only real glory that remains is found around tomb-stones. I have seen specimens of this class, whose destitution of every other quality was calculated to excite one's pity ; specimens that might appropriately 5 50 LECTURES TO TOTJNG MEN. be deposited in a museum, in the department assigned to fossil remains. A youth who inherits the virtues of his ancestors — their stem integrity, patriotism or philanthropy — is indeed deserving of regard. But, to claim respect on the ground of their services, is to present drafts to the American people -which they -will not be likely to honor. Neither can the youth rely upon the wealth of his family; for this inay prove to him more of a curse than a blessing. It may weaken more than it strengthens him. Money will furnish his table, but it will not fur- nish and discipline his mind. It will enable him to con- form to the usages of fashionable society, — to live in splendid apartments, to entertain his friends with costly luxuries, — but it will not elevate and ennoble his soul. It is humiliating to observe what multitudes in wealthy and fashionable circles live a mere butterfly existence, sporting from flower to flower, and chasing one shadow after another, with no adequate views of the responsibil- ities and duties of life. Their greatest excitement is derived from the most trivial sources. The changes in the weather, the last novel, a new fashion, aflbrd them the highest mental' stimulus. Their most important principles are the laws of etiquette. They are more anxious to enter a drawing-room with grace than they are to enter heaven, — more concerned about the violation of some arbitrary rule, or conventional custom, than about the violation of the laws of God. "Wealth, there- fore, may impoverish rather than enrich the soul ; and may, in seasons of trial, like the gold about a drowning ENERGY OF CHARAT3TER. 51 man, sink its possessor deeper, and render his destruction more certain. To an earnest soul, bent upon self-culture, wealth may be of service in securing the means for improving the intellect, refining the taste, and exercising the noblest feelings of the heart.' But, to rely upon it as something that is to take the place of personal effort, virtue or resolution, is to fall into a fatal delusion. And the same is true of any external advantage; it cannot be substituted for self-reliance- The force of one's being — if it has any force — must come from within. The fire must proceed from the deep recesses of the soul, if it would dissipate the surrounding darkness, and shed light upon the world. One may suppose that he can safely imitate another ; that, by following in the footsteps of a favorite hero, he can gain distinction or enjoy prosperity. But, at best, he can only be successful in his imitation ; and surely in such a career there can be nothing effect- ive. The shot from a cannon does not come with the echo, but with the original report. Nor is there any more vitality in a servile imitator than in the object that produces the echo. Perseverance is another constituent element of an energetic character. There may be self-confidence with- out perseverance. The former may be fitful and incon- stant ; it may be under the control of feeling, rather than strong, steady principle. It may expend its force, too, upon a variety of objects. Now, self-reliance must obviously be continuous, in order to produce any great results. ' The business of life 52 LECTURE? TO YOUNG MEN. having been carefully selected, it must be persevered in, whatever diiEculties or obstacles may be encountered. The e'ye must be steadily fastened upon the object before it, resolutely resisting the temptations to turn to the allurements that would draw off and absorb its attention- The flowers by the way-side may be beautiful, the scenery may be enchanting, the music of the gay and frivolous may entice the ear; but the earnest soul is willing to toil now that it may accomplish its mission ; and, in the future, enjoy flowers that never fade, scenery of greater brilliancy and music of more exquisite melody than this. world can afibrd. This steadiness of purpose, this unwavering decision, this willingness to labor on amid darkness or in sunshine, in storms or when all is serene, in adversity or pros- perity, is indispensable to success. To those who would dissuade one from pursuing his object he should say, " I am doing a great work, and cannot come down. I am engaged in promoting the good of mankind, and the honor of my Master ; and the work demands all my energies and all my time. Life is too short and valuable to allow of the waste of its hours upon trivial objects." - It is true that the embarrassments and obstacles that the youth must encounter are often of a most discourag- ing character. It is true that there are periods in almost every young man's history, who is thrown out upon the world to battle with its selfishness and hardships, when his heart sinks within him, and he feels as though he must give up the contest. After struggling long and manftiUy, he asks himself to what purpose is all this toil, ENERGY OF CHAKACTBK. 53 this effort to maintain integrity and virtue, these endeav- ors to rise to wealth, or distinction, or extended useful- ness, when every door is shut against me ? With some, the dark cloud may be pecuniary embar- rassments ; with others, infirm health. Others may be suffering from the dishonesty or cold-hearted selfishness of those whom they have for years faithfully served. Could the history of many youth in our cities be accu- rately known, their trials and discouragements would awaken the deepest sympathy. But, although fortune may frown, and serious difficulties beset one's path, yet, let him cling to his faith and resolution, and his final triumph is not doubtful. These very tr^s may prove to have been real blessings in disguise. They may bring out mental qualities and a force of soul that could have been brought out in no other way. They may teach lessons of wisdom the benefits of which will be e-xperi- enced through life. Oftentimes these seasons of per- plexity and gloom are the turning-points in one's career, — -the test-conflicts, the Waterloo battles, that decide great interests, and fix a man's destiny. And he who, in such an hour, conquers, will, ere. long, see the dark -clouds breaking away, and the stars of hope shining down upon him. Circumstances will bend and yield to the energy of his iron will. Their force will acknowledge the presence of a superior force, against which it is in vain to struggle. Indeed, such is the power of the human will, that it may make even apparently adverse circumstances con- tribute to its ends. A ship, in crossing the ocean, may 5* 54 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. encounter storms and head -winds ; but the faithful cap- tain will keep his vessel constantly directed towards his destined port, and, by the proper adjustment of his sails, and management of the helm, will make even the storms and head winds bear him onward in his course, and bring him safely into port. By consulting the biographies of distinguished men, we find that, in most cases, they had in early life some severe trials to contend against, and that their indom- itable energy in overcoming diflBculties, and persevering m spite of the most formidable obstacles, laid the found- ation of their eminence, and constituted their glory. Had they yielded to despondency, and felt that these adverse circumstances were too formidable to be resisted, how different would have been their career, and the h'story of civilization and of the world ! The principle of perseverance is impaired, in many ininds, by an undue desire to grasp at once the full ben- efits of industry, or study, or rigid virtue. The youth is unwilling to wait the slow movements and develop- ments of time. He wishes often to pluck the fruit before it is ripe, or seize the prize before he has reached the goal. Now, it is a law in the natural and social world that all great results, or important achievements, must be preceded by a long course of preparation, or series of efforts. Vegetation does not at once reach maturity; but, after the soil is prepared and the seed sown, the husbandman must patiently wait for the early and tho latter r-^in. The oak, by slow yet steady accretions. ENERGY 01" CHARACTER. 55 attains to its Ml size and strength. It must feel the genial warmth of many springs, put forth its leaves to catch the showers of many summers, and pass through the hardening processes of many winters, before it becomes the stately and majestic tree. Geologists inform us that ■n the preparation of the earth as a residence for man Icng ages were consumed; that the vast deposits of coal, rock-salt, limestone, &c., are the result of processes in nature that in magnitude and duration seem almost incredible. In~the social world this same law reigns. The student must spend years in patient study, deep research and earnest thought, before he can attain to the highest intel- lectual culture, or accomplish anything in the depart- ments of literature worthy of attention. You know that Newton once modestly remarked that he mainly excelled other men in the exercise of patience. The statesman too must toil on for years, heedless of opposition, and of even the basest attacks upon his character and motives. In no department does one attain to eminence, or a sphere of extensive usefulness, at a single leap. The progress is gradual. The .prize is the reward of perse- vering, long-continued eifort. In the spiritual world, the highest and noblest arena of action, the crown of life is promised only to those who "are faithful unto death." But, indispensable and mighty as is the principle of energy, it must be combined with certain other qualities in order to attain the noblest ends of existence. It must work with other elements — with a sound judgment, wise 56 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. measures, and unwavering moral principles, — if we would have it effective and useful. Oxygen is an im- portant element of the atmosphere ; but no one would desire an atmosphere exclusively of this gas. . It must ■combine in certain proportions with another in order tc furnish a pure and healthful air. Steam is a mighty agent; but it is only in connection with suitable and powerful machinery that it is of service to man. Besides, after its force is generated, it must be restrained within certain limits, and must be under the control of the human will. Let it gain the mastery, and it becomes a most destructive element, scattering abroad desolation and death. So, let energy exist without moral principle, and in proportion to its strength it becomes potent for evil. Allied to a reckless and successful ambition, it becomes a scourge to mankind. It ripens almost into a principle of evil. In the breast of a Caesar or a Napo- leon it kindles a fire that devastates the earth far more than volcanic eruptions, a fire that wraps cities in flames, . and spreads, its conflagrations over vast continents. It excites a thirst for power that can only be satiated by the sacrifice of the liberties of millions of people. -It fills the soul with the one purpose Of self-aggrandizement, — a purpose that absorbs every humane feeling, swallows up every noble sentiment, leads its possessor forward through oceans of blood, through scenes of agony and horror, that would move and melt any but an incarnate fiend. . The resolution displayed by such an one is the resolution of the ocean-tempest, that rages on until every ship within its fatal grasp is a wreck, and every shrieking victim is ENERGY OF CHASACTBK. 57 hushed in the waters of death. The vrorld may admire such a display of energy, and call it heroism; but as well might they admire the lightning flash, that strikes its death-stroke into ten thousand hearts, on account of its display of force. The greater the energy displayed in such a career, the greater should be our feelings of indig- nation and scorn for the abuse of such powers, that might have blest as extensively as they curse. I would as readily eulogize Satan for the magnitude of his concep- tion, and the accomplishijient of his design in ruining man, and entailing upon posterity the horrible conse- quences of sin, as to praise the military hero for his success in destroying the lives of thousands of his fellow- . men, tearing up the foundations of social order and happiness, and trampling out the existence of nations that have fallen under the bane of his displeasure. The only energy, therefore, that is worthy of com- mendation or cultivation, is that which is associated with virtue, with the principles of humanity, justice and religion. This alone, too, will confer lasting influence and enduring distinction. For, while the " name of the wicked shall rot," " the righteous shall be in everlasting remembrance." This is the energy that is enthroned above us, that created the universe, that lighted up the stars, that has filled immensity with the floating habitations of life and happiness. The omnipotence that is displayed all around us is the omnipotence of love. Let us possess this divine principle, and we shall reflect the image of our Creator, and cooperate with the Infinite One in carrying 58 LECTURES TO TCUNG MEN. forward his plans of benevolence. We shall create an influence that will endure long after the stars have faded away; an influence that will flow on with the current of time, and mingle with the ocean of etenity. IV. EXAMPLES OF ENERGY. " Be followers of them who through faith and patience inlaerit thi promises." — Hebeews 6 : 12. Having discoursed upon the principle of energy, I propose now to exhibit a few examples of this principle united with religious enthusiasm. In order to feel the full force of a precept or principle, we must see it exem- plified in a life, see its practical workings upon individual character. The theory, we may say, is good enaugh; the principles of indomitable energy, rigid virtue and religious zeal, are important and indispensable ; but it is one thing to reason about them as abstractions, and quite another to behold them as living forces upon the theatre of human action. We can all give in our cordial assent to a high standard of excellence ; but the- vital question is, Can we attain to that standard in our daily life 1 if it has been reached in one case, it may be in another ; and I know of nothing more encouraging and stimulating than to study the living examples of heroic virtue which adorn human nature. By examininar the career of great 60 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. and good men, entering into the priyacy of their thoughts and feelitigs, observing the workings of the inward prin- ciples which gave them power and success, noticing their conduct under severe temptations, or in emergencies .that demanded the exercise of the highest qualities of the soul, — we ourselves learn how to follow in their' foot- steps, and to reach the eminences upon which they stand. Great and good men are the beacon-lights along the shores of time, whose- rays relieve the darkness of long nights of ignorance, and shine calmly amidst the boisterous waves of human passions. They not only point out the port of safety, the city where wealth, honor, luxury, dwell; but also indicate the shoals, quicksands and rocks, upon which the careless and the weak have suffered shipwreck. Preeminently may we say of dis- tinguished Christian heroes, "Ye are the light of the world. Ye are the stars in the moral firmament, that shed light upon all nations, and in all ages ! " By studying great men, too, we gain access to the forces that have formed society and ruled the world; forces to which science is indebted for its development, the arts for their discovery and achievements, civilization for its progress, and all our social and civil institutions for their existence.- Whatever external advantages we enjoy,. — whatevjer literature has done for the intellect of man, or freedom has accomplished for his social comfort, or /justice and humanity have achieved in the caus»of human rights and happiness, — were once but ideas and purposes in the minds of great men. As the material universe was once but a thought in the breast of the EXAMPLES OF ENERftY. 61 infinite Creator, and as this thougtt was developed and embodied in external- suns, stars and planets, by the energy of Omnipotence, so all human institutions were once but thoughts or theories in the minds of human cre- ators, and obtained their realization by the energy of their authors. Many of them were brought into exist- ence only through- hard-fought battles, and by the sacri- fice of valuable lives. Heroes have died that systems of truth might live. Martyrs have fallen that civil and religious institutions might rise to bless the world. The mass of mankind have been satisfied with the con- dition of things around them; have conformed to the usages of society, and the customs of their fathers, with- out the thought of going beyond them. But the few in whose souls the fire of energy was kindled have longed for changes, improvements, better systems of govern- ment, a greater diffusion of knowledge, or a purer faith. They have overleaped the barriers which surrounded soci- ety, and penetrated into regions unexplor.ed by others. They have dared to assail systems of error and oppression. They have toiled to enlighten mankind, and to elevate them to a higher life. The society of such cannot but be profitable, as well as stimulating. We see in them great principles and Virtues in action. We feel in our own souls the electric influences that emanated from them, — are fired by their enthusiasm, and encouraged'by their success. . In citing examples of energy, I shall select them from the religious department, because my present purpose is to excite in your minds religious ardor, and because W9 6 62 LECTURES TO YOUflG MBS. find in this department some of the noblest instances of heroism that the history of the world furnishes. I pro- pose, therefore, to speak of Luther, Howard, Edwards, and Whitefield, as the representatives or types of energy in the Reformer, the Philanthropist, the Scholar, and the Preacher. Luther's early history had certainly trials enough in it for all disciplinary purposes. Bom of obscure and poor parents, all in the future was dark, except occasional flashes from the fire of his own energy. The struggles of the little boy to obtain an education while he could scarcely obtain bread ; his lonely wander- ings through the streets, singing his Christmas carols tc excite the pity of the charitable ; the harsh treatment that he often received fi-om those who should have be- friended him; the secret struggles of his noble spirit against adversity, — afiFord us some insight into the severe hardships that surrounded his youth. We wonder that his young heart was not crushed under the burdens that were so early'laid upon it. We wonder that he could maintain the conflict with such formidable obstacles and difficulties. On one occasion, indeed, his resolution almost gave way. Having been coldly repulsed from several houses, to which he had applied for the means of satisfying the cravings of hunger, he paused before the house of an honest burgher, absorbed in thought. His heart was so full that he could not sing. He stood motionless. A tear was in his eye ; severe pangs were shooting through his heart ; cloud after cloud gathered about his spirit. Shall I, thought he, return home, EXAMPLES OE ENEEGT. 63 and work -with my poor father at the mines, where I can obtain bread, or shall I press forward here? Momentous question! History waits for the answer. Princes, cardinals, popes, millions of men, are interested in the issue. Human knowledge, human freedom, Pro- testE^nt institutions, Protestant America, — all hang in the scale ! Go or stay 1 — yield or conquer 1 How little do the careless passers-by imagine what is transpiring in that poor boy's mind ! But, while thus depressed, unwilling to retreat, and yet scarcely knowing how to advance, a door is suddenly opened. A benignant coun- tenance smiles upon him-, and a kind voice bids him enter.. From that countenance a" ray of light passes over his darkened soul. The tones of that voice touch the springs of his being, and restore to action the mighty energies of his spirit. He accepts the invitation, passes the thresh- old of the door, and thus decides the destinies of Europe. The law of his being henceforth is indomitable energy. Destined to live amid stern realities ; to meet new diffi- culties in every new path; to climb, one day, dark mountains, and the next descend into deep valleys, or walk on the edge of frightful precipices, — he needed this principle to nerve and sustain him. But his mightiest struggles were with inward doubts and distresses, rather than with outward grievances. Dis- satisfied with the religioiis institutions around him, weary with forms, penances and fastings, he longed for truth ; for a living ;feith, for some spiritual reality to relieve him in his wretchedness. He desired to serve his God ; but the perplexiDg question was, how shall he do it? He 64 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. desired tc drink at the fountain of living waters ; but who would guide him to that fountain 1 After groping his way for years in, darkness, and, at times, walking upon the borders of despair, his footsteps are directed to the Erfurth library, where he finds the word of God. He opens the .book, and reads it. His interest is strongly excited. As one great doctrine after another flashes upon nis mind, his countenance lights up with new joy, his eye kindles with warm desires. He has discovered the fountain of life, — the pure stream, unadulterated by the errors of a corrupt priesthood. As he ponders over the book, the twilight of divine -truth breaks in upon the darkness of his soul, — harbinger of that light that would, ere long, stream from his spirit over a depressed, bewil- dered church. Hjs attention becbmes riveted, and his strong powers grasp the principles that open before him. His keen perception pierces the mysteries of the wonder- ful volume. His imagination is delighted with its beau- tiful imagery, and with the gorgeous scenes of heavenly bliss which it portrays. Leaving the library, he returns to his studies, absorbed by the rich discoveries which he has made. Dim visions of the future rise up before him. His destiny is assuming form and shape, though he sees not the hand that is moulding it. The Reformation has commenced ; but he knows it not. Again and again he returns to his treasure. The precious seed is taking root ; the harvest Europe shall one day behold. Heaven has found one listener to its voice ; and, could a prophet whisper in the ear of kings and popes, he would tell thorn that a mightier than they was at hand.; that an energetic EXAMPLES OF EIirB)i3T. 65 spirit was kindling its fires,, the light of which would be unwelcome to their halls of despotism. He would an- nounce to them that a force was being prepared that would shake their thrones, disturb their councils, and smite with giant blows their systems of iniquity. In the resolution that Luther formed to etter a con- vent, in spite of the entreaties of,parents and the remon- strances of his literary friends, he displayed his wonted energy of character. The death of his fellow-student, Alexis, who was struck dead at his side by lightning, made a deep and soleran impression upon him. The realities of eternity seemed to open at once before his vision. All earthly objects — honors, riches, preferments — dwindled into insignificance in his view. His purpose is formed, to seek in the seclusion and supposed religious advantages of a convent preparation for' the future life. In the darkness of night, to avoid the opposition of his friends, he wends his way alone to the convent of the hermits of St. Augustine. The stars look out upon him, and watch over him. Unseen beings hover around him. In the silence of the hour he approaches the convent-gate; it swings open, and he enters. He forsakes the world ; but not forever. His earnest spirit seeks for peace ; and he shall find it, but not in the way that he supposes. The same force of will that carries him to the convent will bring him forth from it. He enters for fehgious culture ; but, in reality, to experience, in his own person, the corruptions of that system which Providence is pre- paring him to assail: After performing the most humil- iating ser^ces, and experiencing inward conflicts and 6* 66 LECTURES TO T0UN9 MEN. agonies that would have broken any ordinary spirit, he came forth to perform his part upon the broad field of human action. Whatever posi;ions Luther was called to occupy, or whatever duties he had to 'discharge, we find in him the same unwavering fortitude and energy. Whether as a professor in the University of Wittemberg, lecturing on physics and dialectics, or as a preacher of Christian doc- trines in the dilapidated wooden chapel at Wittemberg, or witnessing and protesting against the luxuries and gross impieties of the highest officers of the church at Rome, or encountering Tetzel, the grand pedler of in- dulgences under Leo the Tenth, or nailing up his famous theses at the church-door of the Castle of Wittemberg, — his resolution never deserts him. He formed, indeed, no definite or extensive plan to reform the church. He had no desire to disturb the peace of her communion. He reverenced authority, and was ready to yield to all the just requisitions of his superiors. After he became a reformer, in writing to Duke George of Saxony, he'said : " Verily I was a devout monk, and followed the rules of my order so strictly that I cannot tell you all. If ever a monk entered into heaven by his monkish merits, cer- tainly I should have obtained an entrance there." But Luther had resolved to follow the dictates of an enlight- ened conscience, whatever might be the consequences. He determined to obey the commands, and walk in the footsteps, of his divine Master ; and no opposition, threats or danger, could bend his iron purpose. He had conse- crated his whole bei'rig to the service of God, ^nd he felt EXAMPLES OB ENERGY. 67 that it was his mission to utter God's truth fearlessly, earnestly. His preaching soon arrested the public attention, and aroused the spirit of inquiry. By the power of his elo- quence he communicated his own zeal and fire to other jiinds. His hearers soon became admirers, — partook of his fervor and energy, and were fired by his burning thoughts. It was at this period that he felt that real life was opening before him. No more shadows or phantoms remained to delude and torment him. He had exchanged the drudgery and stupidity of the cloister for a field of active exertion, — a field suited to the exercise of his mightiest energies, and the development of his loftiest as- pirations. Instead of dark clouds overhanging his spirit, — instead of expending his energies in the vain endeavor to find satisfaction and comfort in the dull routine of con- vent duties, — he was out under the broad light of heaven, breathing a pure and invigorating atmosphere, and in contact with the intellect and heart of the living world. In assailing the system of indulgences, he displayed a moral courage which few possess. Indignant that such a system of deception and fraud should be practised upon a confiding people, and be sustained by the authority of the church, he brought against it the whole power of his influence", and the weight of irresistible argument. In this conflict the great battle opened in which such vast interests, and questions of solemn moment, were to be decided. This, in fact, was the first thunderbolt from the clouds which had been so long gathering, — a peal that shook the foundations of despotic Rome, that rever- 68 LECTUEES TO YOUNG MEN. berated through the halls of tyrants, and aroused thou- sands from the slumber of ages. Soon many, convinced of the justice of his cause, and the truth of his doctrines, ralhed around 'him. His principles every day made progress, and gained converts. But it ■was not so much in periods of success as in seasons of adversity, that the peculiar traits and noble qualities of Luther's character were developed. After the first wave of excitement had passed over Europe, there was a sudden calm. In -some minds a reaction took place. Many distinguished philosophers and eminent divines, upon whose support Luther had depended, were either silent or disapproved of his course. He was not a little disturbed and dejected. He felt that he was alone against Rome, — alone against the towering citadel, that seemed to defy the blows from his puny arm. He trem- bled at the thought of facing the whole authority of the church, and of provoking the wrath of powers that kings and nations had not, for ages, dared to resist. But what shall he do ? Shall he retreat 1 — Conscience answers No ! Shall he advance 7 — But the future is dark, and full of peril. , Shall he, risking all, come out in open opposition to the Pope? — But that Pope he has not yet ceased to reverence; his church he has not ceased to love. Shall he deny the truth of the doctrines which he has preached and published to the world? — This would be treason against Heaven. He pauses in deep meditation. Soon light breaks in upon his mind, and his resolution returns ; the energies of his mighty spirit recover their strength. His faith kindles with new life. He deter- EXAMPLES OF ENERGY. 69 mines to advanc s, though the path before him is obscure and intricate. Trusting in God, conscious of the purity of his motives and the justice of his cause, he resolves fearlessly to do his duty. Again is Germany aroused. The writings, discourses, and letters of Luther flow like streams of fire over the frozen hearts of men, kindling* a fresh flame of enthusiasm. The inmates of the Vatican are alarmed. Tyrannies, that have stood for ages undisturbed, are shaken. Formalism lose* its hold upon the masses. Superstition is exchanged for thought, and bhnd sub- mission yields to the spirit of free inquiry. The Pope attempts to silence his adversary ; but the task is not so easily performed. A papal decree is issued that his writings be burnt, and that Luther be arrested and sent to Eome, probably for the same purpose. But popish fire and decrees have suddenly lost their efficacy. The paper flames up, but the principle will not burn, — cannot be burnt. Soon the papal bull comes thundering over the Alps, to annihilate, at a single blow, the insolent dis- turber. But he has no disposition, at present, to be annihilated, nor even to. be excommunicated. His com- munion is with higher powers than those with which Popes have dealings, and he cannot, by any earthly authority, be excommunicated. Taking the document, he returns to the Pope the compliment paid to his own writings, — kindles a fire, and, in the presence of crowds of .professors, students, and citizens of Wittemberg, com- mits it to the flames. In this fire there vjas efficacy. It was as a beacon-light kindled upon a mountain's 70 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. summ'.t, t3 guide the nations ti liberty, to knowledge, to happiness. The qualities of Luther's character are also conspic- uously seen in his appearance at the Diet of "Worms, — a scene of moral grandeur, and sublime interest, unsur- passed in modern European history.' This council was summoned, among other purposes, to take in hand the Reformation, and to break, if possible, the power of its hero. The Eeformation had become too vast to be man- aged by any ordinary means ; and hence it was necessary that a combination of ecclesiastical and civil forces should try their united strength upon it. The Diet calls together princes, dukes, archbishops, barons and lords of the empire, whose splendid equipages pour through the avenues leading to the city of Worms. Luther having been summoned to appear, many of the adherents of the Pope had as much to fear as to hope from his coming. They were aware of the progress that the Reformation had made, — aware that nobles, lawyers, the inferior clergy, even many monks, and vast numbers of the people, had embraced its prin- ciples ; and they felt that to bring Luther there was to bring the very heart and spirit of the Reformation into the midst of a powerful and brilliant assembly, over which an influence unfavorable to their cause might be exerted. But, notwithstanding their remonstrances, it was decided that Luther should appear. His journey to ■ Worms resembled a triumph. Everywhere the people flocked around him. They gazed with intense interest upon the man who, single-handed, was going to meet the EXAMPLES 01' ENERGY. 71 power and pomp of the world. At the gates of the city a vast concourse of people gave him a most enthusiastic reception. Thousands followed him through the streets. The inhabitants rushed to the doors, crowded at the win- dows, to catch a glimpse of the hero. The courtiers of the Pope were in a panic of excitement. Charles the Fifth instantly convoked his counciL To his confidential advisers, whose fears were aroused, he said : "Luther has come; what must we do?" Important question! — growing every hour, every moinent, more important ! A man with living powers and vital energies has come ; a man with an intellect to think, a heart to feel, and a strong arm to strike for truth, for right, for humanity, for God. One person recommended that he should share the fate of John Huss. But the burning of such a heretic would not suit the time, nor the place, nor the occasion. It might be difficult to put out the fire after it was kindled. He must be heard; and, accordingly, he is commanded to appear before the council the next day, at four o'clock. As he approaches the hall, the masses of the people block up the streets, and it is only by the greatest effort that the soldiers are able to open a way to the council- chamber. As Luther enters, a solemn silence reigns over the vast and imposing assembly. Every eye is fixed upon him; every heart beats with intense emotion. Luther, too, is silent, — calm, firm. Not a muscle is agitated; not a trace of fear is discoverable upon his countenance. His very appearance there is a triumph ; 72 LECTtJKES TO YOUNG MEN. for he has been condemned by the Pope, and yet has a hearing before that august body. The case is opened. On one side are princes, dukes, ambassadors, — in all two hundred distinguished person- ► ages, — representatives of the world's pomp and power; on the other, the poor miner's son, — solq representative of God's truth. There he stands, — alone, defenceless. How easy to crush him ! — Yet not so easy. Far easier to conquer a whole nation than him. He, standing on the rock of truth, is mightier than them all ! The prop- osition is made to him to retract. Retract ! — He will not utter the word, — he cannot utter it. His conscience, his sense of right and justice, his reverence for truth and for God, forbid it. In answer to inquiries, he frankly acknowledges all his writings, and firmly adheres to every position that he has taken. Efforts are made, at one time, to win him over by ilatteries ; at another, to move him by threats. But his granite nature resists every assault. His purposes cannot be shaken ; his iron will cannot be broken. The assembly soon find that they have taken in hand more than they can manage. Their very endeavors to weaken Luther give him strength. By attempting to bend him, he becomes more inflexible. His Reformation they cannot beat down, nor vote dowji, nor decree out of existence. In spite of their committees and sub-com- mitteesj their negotiations, compromises and debates, it continues to grow and extend. Protests and anathemas are only fuel that feed the flame. The mighty man leaves the council in triumph. EXAMPLES OF- EISERGY. 73 Such a character cannot be studied witliout benefit. No one can watch the beatings of that gref.t heart, with- out feeling its life-giving power. No one can perceive the deep breathings of his earnest, fiery soul, without partaking of its electric energy. Ho one can contemplate' his colossal influence, mighty deeds, sublime energy, and active faith, without emotions of the highest admiration, and intense desires to possess the qualities that gave him his power, and rendered his name immortal. HOWARD, THE PHILANTHBOPIST. We would next cite an example of energy associated with philanthropy. Nor can we summon before us a more brilliant instance than that furnished by the name of John Howard. This remarkable man stands out before us not only as the embodiment of goodness, but t;S the representative of gobdness in action, producing fruits. If pure benevolence is the highest virtue ; if extensive usefulness constitutes true greatness; if surmounting obstacles in the path of stern duty is real heroism ; if brilliant achievements in the great battle against inhu- manity are worthy of renown, — then Howard has the highest claims to distinction. His example should in- spire every youth with a holy ambition to walk in his footsteps, and strive to -reach the glorious eminence to which he attained. In his early years Howard developed traits of charactei which won the respect and affection of all who knew him 7 74 LECTURES TO TOUNG MEN. Being an invalid, he did not indulge, to any great extent, in youthful sports ; but gave himself up to serious medi- tation, and to contributing to the happiness of others After various trials and misfortunes, he sailed for Portu gal in pursuit of health, when he was taken prisoner, and thrust into a prison at Brest. There he had sud- denly revealed to him the horrors of a European prison ; and the impression made upon his mind, by what he saw and experienced, aroused his warmest sympathies, and decided his future career. As Luther was led by Prov- idence to become a monk, and to experience in his own person the superstition and wretchedness connected with monastic life, that he might be qualified to smite the more efieotually the systems of corruption around him, so Howard was made to. experience those fearful evils which it was the work of his life to remedy. Having been appointed to the office of sheriff of Bed- ford, he attended not only the proceedings of the trials of criminals, but employed his leisure in inspecting the prisons of England, and thoroughly informing himself respecting the physical and moral condition of the pris- oners. He had not proceeded far in his investigations, before he was impressed with the wretchedness and degradation of the unfortunate felons, and the abominable features of the whole prison-system. He found the courts corrupt, officers of justice guilty of thewoist forms of injustice, jailers without humanity, and the inmates of prisons without any moral restraint, and abandonei to every vice and crime. Oaths, curses, and the most revolting language, were freely used. Intemperance EXAMPLES OF ENEKGT. 75 And licentiousness prevailed; and the very atmosphere seemed impregnated witli the seeds of moral death. The prisons themselves were in a dilapidated and filthy con- dition. Many of the apartments had no windows ; and, in several instances, the walls were broken to admit the air and light. Multitudes qf the prisoners died from absolute neglect, and from fevers caused by the poisonous air that they weire compelled to breathe. After surveying this mass of human wretchedness, Howard proposed to himself the question. How shall such enormous evils be remedied 1 At what point can they be approached with any hope of success in removing them? - Ordinary minds would have regarded the enterprise as too gigantic and hopeless to be entered upon. But before the mind of Howard the path of duty was plain ; and he resolved to follow it. Impelled by the intense benevolence of his nature, — taking conscience as his guide, and acting under a sense of his responsibility to God, — he determined, if possible, to reform the prisons of England, and rescue the wretched inmates from their horrible doom. Gathering up his startling array of facts, he seized the first opportunity to lay them before the House of Com- mons. The members were astonished at the revelations which he made. The extent of his knowledge, the mi- nuteness of his details, the enthusiastic ardor with which he had prosecuted his researches, surprised them. His unexampled philanthropy won their admiration ; and 76 LECTURES TO TOTJNG MEN. ttey could not avoid listening to liis appeals, and yielding to his requests. Having accomplislied his purpose in England, he "pro- ceeded to Scotland and Ireland, where he prosecuted his work with the same diligence. Although his consti- tution was naturally weak, and his health was seriously impaired by unremitting labor, and exposure in damp dungeons, and pestikntial vapors, yet no obstacles could deter him from his work. Wherever there was a prison, he desired to penetrate into its recesses, to explore its darkest dungeons, to measure the extent and depth of its wretchedness. Leaving Great Britain, he passed, as an angel of mercy, through France, Belgium, Holland and Ger- many. Never did he lose sight of the one great object of his mission. It absorbed his whole attention, engaged all his affections, and employed every energy of his soul. Neither the luxuries that were within his reach, nor the palaces of kings, nor the halls of learning, nor the monu- ments and antiqfuities of ancient cities through which he passed, could divert him from his grand purpose. Hav- ing at one time entered Petersburg in disguise, in order to avoid the attention which his fame induced the great to bestow upon him, he was discovered by the police, and cordially invited by the Empress Catharine to her court. But he respectfully informed her majesty that he had come to Russia to seek out the captive in his dungeon, and not to visit the palaces of kings and queens ; and, as his time was limited, he begged her to excuse him. Wliilc at Eome, he did not give himself leisure even EXAMPLES OF BNERGT. 77 to visit its magnificent ruins, and view tlie pictures, statues £tnd monuments of art, wliicli are the first objects of inquiry with travellers who throng the city. He was by no means destitute of taste and culture ; but, with him, the claims of duty were more pressing and impe- rious than thos.e of pleasure. He felt that he had a mis- sion to fulfil, a work of vast moment to accomplish ; and he desired infinitely more to relieve human suffering than to gaze upon the noblest specimens of art, or the most magnificent ruins. While at Rome, he wished to see the dungeons of the Inquisition ; but access to them, as well as to the Bastile in Paris, was denied him. All other prisons were open for his inspection ; and, on his return from his European tour,' the blessings of the poor prisoner followed him. The. amount of relief that he had furnished was immense. But, more than all, he had aroused the public attention to a subject with which the best interests of society are vitally connected. He had led governments to adopt measures to seciire more fully the ends of justice, by protecting the ianocent, saving the young criminals from the baneful influence of older felons, and breaking up the system of extortion which prevailed among officers and jailers. For twelve years he was employed in traversing the countries of Europe, during which period he travelled more than forty-two thousand miles, visited and carefully inspected the jails in all the prominent cities, and expended over thirty thousand pounds in the prosecution of his sublime mission. Up to the day of his death, his ardor never abated, his 7* 78 LBCTUKES TO YOUNG MEN. lofty energy of purpose never forsook him. Regardless of sellf, indifferent to the applause of the multitude, studi- ously avoiding the honors that ^is friends were anxious to bestow upon him, he lived an ornament of his race, a blessing to humanity, and an illustrious instance of inflexible energy united with the purest philanthropy. EDWABDS, THE SCHOLAR. The name of Jonathan Edwards is one of the brightest ornaments of the American church. We cite him as an example of intellectual force. In very early life he man- ifested a love for profound and abstract questions, and displayed unusual skill in investigating them. When but thirteen years of age, he took delight in the study Of Locke's Essay on the Human Understanding, and works of a similar character. Such was his thirst for knowl- edge that he read and studied every valuable book within his reach, and his progress was very rapid in the sciences, in. moral philosophy, and theology. On entering the ministry, he devoted himself with the greatest diligence and resolution to his work. Although his constitution was feeble, yet he usually studied thir- teen hours a day. He was careful to note down every valuable thought that occurred to him; and, such was his mental activity,, that, even in his seasons of recreation, or hours of rest, he would commit to paper any important truth that was suggested to his mind. His writings bear the marks of extensive research, close reasoning, and a profound reverence for truth. Indeed, EXAMPLES OF ENERGY. 79 as a patient and protracted thinker, a clear and thorough analyst, a resolute worker in philosophy and theology, he stands unrivalled. Robert Hall says that Edwards is the greatest of the sons of men. His works on the wHl and the affections he perused with great delight before he was nine years of age ; and, for sixty years, he studied, the writings of Edwards with undiminished pleasure. Dr. Chalmers bears witness that " in the arena of metaphysics Edwards stood the highest of all his contemporaries; and that, too, at a time when Hume was aiming his deadliest thrusts at the foundations of niorality, and had thrown over the infidel cause the whole eclat of his reputation." " The American divine aiFords," he says, " perhaps the most wonderful example, in modern times, of one who stood richly gifted both in natural and spiritual discern- ment; and we know not what most to admire in him, — whether the deep philosophy that issued from his pen, or the humble piety that issued from his pulpit ; whether when, as an author, he deals forth upon his readers the subtilties of profoundest argument, and impresses by his writings the schools and high seats of literature, or when, as a Christian ^minister, he deals forth upon his hearers the simplicities of the gospel." But this remarkable man, with all his mental force and spiritual fervor, met with severe trials in his min- istry at Northampton. Having on several occasions insisted upon a more exemplarj- life on the part of those who partook of the Lord's supper, and having labored to induce the young to abstain from reading works of a 80 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. demoralizing character, a bitter opposition arose against him in the congregation. His peace was disturbed, and his continued faithfuhiess brought upon him renewed attacks from his persecutors. Yet, throughout the whole struggle, he maintained 'the same calm self-reliance, devotion to his Master's work, and diligence in his studies, that had characterized his life. After a series of bitter persecutions, which continued for nearly six years, his troubles resulted in his dismission from his people. On taking up his residence subsequently in Stock- bridge, he prosecuted his literary labors with unabated ardor. Here, in coinparative retirement from the world and freedom from its vexations, he prepared his most valuable works, while he was assiduous in his efforts to benefit the souls of men. No changes in his outward circumstances could impair the force of his intellect, or quench the fire of his piety. Up to the hour of his death, he maintained the same inflexible resolution, and the entire devotion of his being to the cause of truth. WHITEFIELD, THE PREACHBE. Of energy in the preacher we might cite many illus- trious examples. But a single instance will suffice our present purpose. The energy of Whitefield was an energy that was bap- tized with the Holy Ghost. That which gave to this principle its vitality and success, was personal piety. EXAMPLES OF ENERGY. 81 His lips "ffere touched with, a live coal from the altar of God ; aai this not only made him eloquent, but the fire reached his heart, kindled his affections, and produced a glow of religious enthusiasm that no waters could quench or floods drown. In early life his condition was humble, and, being sur- rounded with strong temptations, he yielded to their influence, and was, according to his own account, an idle and wicked youth. He spent his leisure in reading romances and plays, and, at times, manifested a disposi- tion to indulge in theatrical representations. But he had an intense desire to receive a liberal education, and, through the kindness of friends, he was enabled to enter Pembroke College, Oxford. Here the great change was wrought in him, by the power of divine grace, which decided his future destiny. His religious experiences, his spirit of self-denial, his earnest longings after holiness, with frequent seasons of despondency and mental agony, rendered his preparatory discipline not unlike that through which Luther passed. His desire was to devote his whole being to the work of saving immortal souls. He felt that men must repent and have faith in Christ, or perish. The great truths of the Bible stood out before his mind as living realities. They were constantly in hia view. Their glories shone upon his path, and their ter- rors sent lightning-flashes through his spirit. He longed to lead iieri fo Jesus, to bid them flee from the wrath to come. At the age of twenty-one he was admitted to holy orders ; an 1 his first sermon made a deep and Eflarked imj ression. His eloquence, fervor, pathos i the taste, and destroy the relish for profitable reading. It is as important to preserve and cultivate a pure taste as to establish right principles in the heart ; for the taste and inclinations often give character to one's principles. They give direction to the energies, control the affections, and select the objects of pursuit. If the love for ficti- tious works is awakened and cherished, the mind will soon become absorbed by them, and will " live, move and have its being" in the creations of the popular novelists of the. day. Other and profitable d^artments of literature will be neglected. The rich mines of scieik- tific truth, the stirring facts and incidents of history, the beauties of poetry, the pleasures of philosophical studies, present no attractions to one whose taste is thus per- verted. He has no disposition to leave the fairy castles in which he has floated, to withdraw from the scenes which haTC so excited and fascinated him, or to jartfirom the company of heroes whoi, though vicious, are accom- plished, amd who, though criminal, are adroit bi their villany. The- mischief is the more serious, becaiose it b done at PBKNICI0T7S LITEEATUKE. 99 a period when the mind should be laying in its stores of iiseM knowledge, when a taste should be cultivated for the solid branches of learning, and when the higher facul- ties of the soul should have all the advantages, in their conflict with youthful passions, that a healthful literature can impart. Instead of weakening the authority of reason, and increasing, the -proclivity of the mind to sinful in- dulgence, and adding fuel to the flames of passion, the youth should be fortifying himself against the evil_ tend- encies of his nature. He should give a direction to the force of his being that will elevate, and not debase him, — that, will start him in a career of honor and happiness, and not press him into paths that lead^o disgrace atid infamy. It should be considered, also, that the youth cuts him- self oif from these advantages at a period in the history of human knowledge when the greatest facilities exist for the prosecution of scientific researches ; when the richest fields are unfolding their treasures to the diligent inquirers after truth ; when poetry comes to us clothed in robes of purity, and bearing sentiments of a lofty and truthful character ; when history is presented with every attraction which felicity of style, beauty of imagery and force of illustration, can impart. Never was there an age when the choicest treasures of knowledge were scattered abroad with so lavish a hand as at the present time. And shall the youth, for the momentary excitement that a pernicious novel afibrds him, fling away this rich in- heritance, which the wise and good of past generations have left to bins ? Shallhe-be so fooUsh as to sell his 100 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. birthright for a mess of pcttage ? Shall he so lightly esteem that which has cost the toil and industry of centuries, as to I'elinquish it for so paltry and ephemeral a gratification? The inebriate, who parts with health, and the enjoyment of life, for the excitement of the intoxicating cup, is not more mad than he who, with these splendid fields open before him, and rich prizes within his grasp, gives himself up to the polluting and deadly influences of a corrupt literature. Let a youth experience the refined pleasures which a wise and lofty intellectual career affords ; let him ex- plore any one of the sciences, — let him soar amid the grandeurs of astronomy, or trace out the marks of divine skill and goodness in geology, or observe the beautiful laws that are developed in chemistry,-^ and he will no longer waste his time and peril his principles with the villanous productions of villanous authors. In the next place, these pernicious works tinfit the reader for the practical duties and stern realities of life. They fill the mind with false notions, extravaganji desires, and expectations that are never realized. They prepare thousands for bitter disappointments. Many, who, at this hour, are surrounded with every comfort, and surfeited with luxuries, are full of repinings and murmurings at the allotments of Providence, because their minds have been poisoned by the false views of life , which their favorite novelists have given them. They have revelled . in scenes, which have no counterpart in anything that has transpired upon the earth. They hare -been dazzled by visions, and excited by ideal de- PERNICIOUS LITBKATUEE. 101 lights, tliat have no corresponding realities. Now, life is not, and was never intended to be, a scene of romantic adventure, of sickly sentimehtalism, of visionary bliss. It is no May-day amusement, with its frivolous sports, but a stern, solemn reality. It is a battle-field, in which we have foes to encounter, severe struggles to pass through, victories to gain, and crowns to win. For its duties and conflicts we need something more than the armor of fictitious heroes, or the courage displayed ia encounters with imaginary rivals. We need the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. We need a strong arm, a stout heart, invincible energy, and those manly quahties and firm principles which corrupt authors ridicule and aim to destroy. But we may be met with the assertion that it is not the design of these writings to .instruct but to amuse the reader, — not to gravely inculcate moral sentiments, but to afibrd recreation and excitement. Yet, before I in- dulge in such reading, and make these volumes my bosom companions, — before I allow the sentiments that they contain to engross my affections, and to mingle with my daily thoughts, — I am bound to ask what their influ- ence will be upon my character, prospects, and success in life. Will they aid me in discharging the great duties of my mission on earth 1 Will they make me a wiser or better man ? Will they enable me to resist temptation with more resolution, or bear trials with more fortitude, or serve my God with more faithfulness and acceptance? Will they help me to prepare for the 9* 102 LECTUBES TO YOUNS MEN. solemnities of a dying houBf t Will they tkrow any rays of ligtt across the dark valley^ or awaken any" sweet voices that will whisper peace to my mvll These ques- tions I am bound to ask- And, if I am told that these, writings will do just the opposite of all this, — will undermine right principles, weaken every good resolu-v tion, nnfit me for duty, and make me a mere thing of weakness and sentimentality, to be tossed about with every changing circumstance, — then I must spurn thera from my presence ; if need be, I must trample them beneath my feet, Life is too short,- its duties are too pressing, its responsibilities are too mighty, to allow me to waste days, months, years, upon these frivolous and corrupting productions. I have evils enough to contend against, without intoxicating my brain and inflaming my passions with the scenes of pollution and crime which these authors portray. Another objection to this species of literature is, that it injures the tone of the sensibilities. It has been said, by the advocates of fictitious writings, that they are positively beneficial, inasmuch as they excite sympathy for sorrow, and admiration for heroic deeds. But we would ask what practical benefit ia derived from the emotions thus excited. It is a law of the human mind that the repeated excitement of a sensibility that does not result in action tends to deaden that sensibility. It soon becomes inoperative as fer as relates to practicai effects. Team may feiU abundajatly over descriptioiK of fictitious sorrow ; but they are most likely to prodoc^ fictitious benevolence. What habitual novel-read^^ aitei PEaNICIOTO LITBRATURB. 10^ beiag melted by a tale of distress, is seen leaving Yaet riohly-furaisliad apartment, and hastening to an abode of poverty or sorrow, to relieve a case of actual want ? From what class in the community do we select the members and officers of charitable societies 1 Whom dij we commission to carry food to the hungry, clothing to, the naked,, and comfort to the distressed ? . Do we select the most ijiveterate novel-readers? The simple truth is, that, a suffering world derives as much benefit from their tears as from the tears of crocodiles. Their sympathies may he kindled in a glow, but no warmth from them, reaches the abodes of want and distress. Their charity may be greatly excited-, but it is not permitted to ripea into deeds of benevolence. Yet we find able writers gravely ad vocajting fictitious, writings., because of the exercise they give to the sensi*. bilities aad emotions of the soul. In so respectable a periodical as the North American Review (vol, lvi. p. 271) I find the following remarks on this point : " Act- ual experience does not always furnish a sufficient number of trying occasions on which the mind may be purified and exalted by pity, wonder or admiration,"- And,, again, " Opportunities for the exercise of , the heroic virtues are certainly rare; ",and, therefore, fictioQ must come in, to supply the deficiency. It almost takes away one's breath to read such declar- ations. " Opportunities for the^ exereke of the heroic virtues certainly rare ! " Was such the case when our Saviour visited the world and went about doing good 1 Did Wilberfoxce, Howarl, Martyn and Brainerd, find 104 LECTUKES TO YOUNG MEN. that "actual experience does nQt" furnish a sufficient number of trying occasions, on which the mind may be purified and exalted by pity, &c. ? Imagine John How- ard arousing his sensibilities by consuming day after day in reading fictitious works ! Imagine a band of city missionaries, whose daily duty it is to visit the poor and sick, drawing their stimulus from the same source ! If these works are so well adapted to excite "the heroic virtues," why should not the secretary of every charita- ble society be supplied with a complete set of Bulwer'& novels, and the members, before going forth upon their , missions of mercy, spend a. few hours inlistening to the reading of several chapters? The writer, however, to whom we have referred, in the North American Review, admits "that these remarks (which I have quoted) are not very applicable to the novels of the. present day, in very few of which do we find any exhibition of estimable characters, or of noble principles of conduct." A very important admission, surely, and one that materially qualifies the statements that precede it. But we object to a very large portion of the fictitious literature of the present day, because, as we have already intimated, it is so demorahzing and atheistical. Many of the cheap works which are sold in shops, news- paper depots, and in cars, steamboats, and places of public resort, are of a licentious and grossly immoral character. They are a moral pestilence that walketh in darkness and wasteth at noonday. . They seek to destroy every noble trait, every refined and generous senti- ment, every lofty and pure principle of action. They PERNICIOUS LITERATURE. 105 amplify and dicorate whatever, can deform or degrade human, nature. The most abhorrent vices are exhibited in the garb of the highest virtues. The most abandoned knaves are presented to the reader as gentlemen of honor. The apostate from religion and the hypocrite are favorite characters with this class of writers. If they can only succeed in working up their revolting materials into an attractive and vivid picture, they care not what becomes of the interests of religion, or the moral principles of their reader. " Having," to use the language of another, "too little principle to care for or be conscious of the injury they do, they can, by means of a temporary popularity, spread an infection anlong thousands, simply because the minds of their readers are too. passive to understand their danger. Thus there are those whose whole employment seems to be to turn vice into virtue and shame into glory, till' all moral distinc- tions are worn away by the perpetual dropping ; and the blindfolded reader- will accept some poor knave, not only as a gentleman and a man of honor, but high-souled, whole-hearted, and whatever other fair name these writers think proper to bestow." These men, from Byron down to Bulwer, — and many a fathom down it is, --have labored to represent human nature, when defiled, iegraded and passion-stained, aa more elevated than before its fall, — Herod eaten of worms as more graceful and commanding than Solomon in all his glory. There cannot be a more impudent affront offered to the common sense of mankind. The artist might as well maintain that the drunkard's redness 106 LECHJBBS TO YOXTSGt MEW. is more beautiful than the school-boy's bloom, or the features wasted by sensuality more honorable than the care-worn countenance of the devoted philanthropist.'^ Such, are the works that enter our fanalies, and destroy multitudes of our youth. Unconscious of the dangers that surround them, the young indulge in this species of reading, until their imagination, reason and will, are taken captive, and they are ensnared by the; seductive charms of these popular and profligate writ- ers. The bowers that are wreathed for them seem attractive and beautiful. The words of the author fall like sweet music upon the ear. lulling the conscience to rest. His imagery plays before the fancy, and takes captive the affections of the heart. He leads his fol- lowers through enchanted grounds, scatters flowers ia their pathway, spreads over them a canopy of fleecy clouds tinged with rainbow hues, and by his magic arts dispels all sense of danger. But ere long these bright visions begin to fade, and the darkness of a misty and gloomy night gathers over the scene. The strains of music gradually die away, and the rumbling of distant thunder is heard. Occasional flashes of lightning startle the conscience. The dread reahty begins to fasten upon the consciousness, that the great interests of Ufe have been neglected, — .that the solemnities of eternity are upproaching, for which no preparation has been made. Soon the storm breaks, in all its fury, upon the deluded victim. The black heavens, the howling winds, the trembling earth, reveal the presence of Him whose PERNICIOUS LITEEAJORB. 107 messages have been unheeded, whose laws have been broken and trodden under foot. 0, young man, and young woman too, poison not your soul by this pernicious literature ! For that soul has in it a value that outweighs the stars. It is more precious than the material universe. An infinite Sav- iour died upon the cross to redeem it. Angels watch over its destiny with the deepest solicitude. The Holy Spirit hovers around it, anxious to enter and take pos- session, and consecrate it as a temple to the living God. Your Father in heaven is anxiously watching for your return 4a himself. Take this holy Book as your guide. Here you have a celestial literature, — principles that are more precious than rubies, knowledge that will make you wise unto salvation. Here you may learn the character of the purest, wisest Being in the universe, — the great I Am, who has spread out the heavens, and lighted up the stars, and who offers to you enduring joys. Here you may follow writers inspired by the Holy Ghost, — writers who give you not fiction, but eternal, truth ; who point you not to shadows, but glorious realities ; not to delusive phantoms and airy castles, but to mansions in the skies, — to a city that hath foundations whose builder and maker is God. May you all enter the gates of that city, gaze upon its splendors, listen to its music, and enrich your intellects with its stores of knowledge, and its. ennobling and sUiWme truths ! ^ VI. THE THEATRE. " Every tree is knoTm by its oim fruit." — Luke 6 : 44. I PROPOSE to discuss, to-night, the question, "Is a new theatre needed in the city of Boston?" * You are aware that recently measures have _been adopted to secure the erection of a large and elegant theatre in the most densely crowded part of our city. TJje reasons assigned for this movement are, that the people desire such a place of amusement for their own gratification, that the business interests of the city demand it, and that it will serve as an attraction to strangers, and those who may take up their residence here. These considerations have led many wealthy and fash- ionable citizens to embark in the enterprise, and we are informed that the prospects of success are in the highest degree flattering. The necessity or utility of such an establishment we * The views advanced in this lecture ore applicable to theatres in all our oities. THE THEATRE. 109 propose to discuss, viewing the matter in tte light of unexceptionable evidence, and citing such arguments as will commend themselves to intelligent and unprejudiced minds. We may, however, be met, at the outset, with the inquiry, " What business is it of yours, if some of the citizens of Boston choose to build a theatre, and attend plays for their amusement 1 Are you not meddling with that which does not belong to you 7 If you have no taste for the drama, and no desire to witness theatrical exhibi- tions, may not others, who have, be gratified, without 'being assailed from the pulpit, and exposed to the shafts of intolerance and bigotry 1 " We would reply, that, if the enterprise is a good one, and such as will benefit society, or afford innocent amusement, it will not suffer by being fairly discussed. If it will, advance the true interests of Boston, promote the public health, or morals, or intelligence, then the publicity of a pulpit discussion will aid rather than injure it, will increase rather than diminish the value of the stock, and will tend to enlist the cooperation of those citizens who are more frequently found in churches tha,n in theatres. But, if the enterprise is a bad one, — if a theatre is an institution calculated to demoralize society, corrupt the young, destroy the force of religion, blast the hopes of parents, — if it is a school from which its grad- uates go forth to indulge in every species of vice, then, surely, it ought to. be examined. "Its tendencies and evils ought to be exposed by every pulpit in the city, by every friend of virtue and religion. That pulpit that Id 110 LBCTtJRBS TO YOXING MEN. refeses to lift up its •warning voice, that withlKMa ita solemn and earnest protest against such an institution, is recreant to its duty and false to its trust. A question so yitally connected with the. virtue and happiness of society concerns us all. You, yt)ung men, are interested in it. Foi" it may sensibly affect your welfare, influence your character, and even decide jrour immortal destiny. It falls withiH the legitimate sphere of your inquiry, whether the temptations that already surround tfee young are not sufficiently numerous and powerful, whether the dangers that now threaten your Welfare and immortal hopes are not fearful enough, without opening another avenue to the chambers of death. Ye who are parents are interested in this matter. It is a reasonable inquiry for you to institute. How high are the floods of temptation to be permitted to rise, while the pulpit, the church and the community, are silent upon the subject? Your children are dear to you aa your own life. Their happiness is identified with yours. The perils tiiat surround them you feel, and you have a right to inquire into the character of the public institu- tions which are to mould the society in which they "move. In investigating the principles and the eflects of theatres, we have the advantage of examining an institu- tion that is well known. For centuries it has been before the world in various forms, and under various sys- tems of government and religion. It is a tree which has yielded its fruits,-^ fruits that lie scattered over the civ- ilized world. We have on record the opinions of pagan and Christian philosophers in regard to it, the testidiony THE THEATEE. Ill of legislators, the views of the church in all ages. If it is a beneficial institution, a promoter of good morals, an important agency in forming a refined taste and a sound literature, as its advocates contend, it has certainly had ample time and facilities for yielding these fruits. In Greece, Italy, France, England and America, money has been lavished upon the institution in the greatest pro- fiision. Costly theatres have been erected. The best actors have been employed. Rich dresses, gorgeous scenery, and the charms of music, have added to the attractions of the play. All that art, wealth, fashion tod strenuous eflfort could do, has been done to render the institution successful and papular. But its history proves, as we shall show, that it has uniformly exerted a pernicious influence upon society, corrupted the youth, promoted irreligion, and vastly aug- mented the tide of profligacy, debauchery and ruin. Instead of being a blessing, it has everywhere been a curse. It has debased rather than elevated the miud, brutalized rather than refined the taste, blasted rather than improved the character, made shipwreck of man's prospects for this life, and his hopes for eternity. Let me direct your attention, in the first place, to the origin of the theatre. The word theatre is derived from the Greek word O-eaofim^ which means to see, to behold a spectacle, and was applied by the ancients to the edifice in which shows were exhibited for public amusement. Some of tie ancient theatres were costly and magnificent structures^ and were built entirely of marble. The Theatre of Baeehus, at Athens, was suf- 112 LECfUKBS TO YOUNG MEN. ficiently capacious to accommodate thirty thousand per- sons. The Greeks often built their theatres upon the side of a hill, in order to aid the view of the vast audi- ences that assembled to witness the play. Within these immense edifices dramatic and tragical scenes were per- forjned which were in the highest degree licentious, both in languag* and action. The dramatic art took its rise from the heathen cere- monies and tumultuous festivities of the Greeks. In the worship rendered to the gods, and especially to Bacchus, choirs were introduced, who, with singing, dancing, and instrumental music, represented some story or fabulous conquests connected with the deity. Often, the choir, in the delirium of intoxication, were loud in the praises of their favorite deity, and by gestures and rude dances manifested their devotion to the god of the vine. Grad- ually, the singing was interrupted' by the introduction of some scene or action, to add to the excitement of the occasion. The murder of Bacchus, or of Osiris, by Typhon, or some grotesque scene, /Was introduced. Tragedy was regarded as an improvement upon these choirs ; and in the selection of subjects and arrangement of the performance, the aim was to excite the passions of the auditory. Its heroes were very far from being patrons of virtue, or examples of noble and elevating principles. Thespis, who lived about five hundred and fifty years before Christ, is regfirded as the inventor of tragedy, although OEschylus, who flourished in the time of the Persian war, is spoken of as its real father. Pre- vious to the time of Thespis, the actors were masked aa THE THEATRE. 113 satyrs ; and; for the amusement of their auditors, they indulged in the most licentious freedom. Thespis, how- ever, rendered the performances more decent, although under him they were exceedingly rude. " The stage is said to have heen a cart, the chorus a froop of itinerant singers, the actor a, sort of mimic, and the poem itself a motley combination of the serious and the trifling, the ludici'3us and the pathetic." While tragedy thus sprang from the wild and 'demor- alizing festivals ield in honor of the god of wine, comedy, we are told, had its origin in the country. In the wards or boroughs of Attica, the custom prevailed of singing songs in which the greatest licentiousness was allowed.' "■" The performers, drawn in cars, proceeded from borough to borough; their numbers increased at every station, and they strolled about the country until their excesses forced them to seek repose. Hence, comedy derives -its name trom,xo>M, a village." The -materials for comedies were ■derived from the passing events and politics of the day — the characters and deeds of state officers and other distinguished men. Soon, however, this sp#cies of writ- ing and acting was grossly abused, and made the vehicle for attacking private character, and holding up to ridi- cule persona- who were unpopular or obnoxious to the people. The comedy included allegory, and satire often abounded in images and allusions of 'the most obscene character. No regard was paid to the restraints of virtue, or the interests of truth or religion. If a laugh was only excited, or the passions aroused, it was of but little con- sequence what became of sound principle and -virtue. 10* 114 LECTURES TO YOUNGt MEN. And these features of the drama have characterized ^ in almost every stage of its progress, from that period to the present day. "Where the plays themselves have contained in the text nothing demoralizing or objec- tionable, allusions, images or •words, have been thrown in, which' ministered to the depraved desires of the auditors. The remark, however, is often made by. the advQcates of dramatic exhibitions, that the theatre is a school of morals, — that here one may become . acquainted with human nature in its various grades and aspects. But those best acquainted with the theatre know that the improvement of the morals of the community is the very last thing which it aims at, or accomplishes. As well might one contend that the slave-trade promoted human- ity, or that gambling enlarged the benevolent affections, or that the Romish inquisitions were founded upon the principle of mercy, aa that the theatre promoted good morals. Who ever heard of a dramatic exhibition being opened with prayer, or closed with singing the praises of God 1 Who ever heard of a youth going to the theatre for the express purpose of improving his character, or obtaining strength to resist temptation, and serve his God? But we are met with the assertion, by the advo- cates of the drama, that the evils of which we speak result from the abuses of the theatre, and not from its legitimate tendency and use.. Those who are engaged in erecting the new theatre in our city propose to have one that shall be free from all objections. They promise THE THEATRE, 115 that it shall be an institution devoted to purity and good morals, and that 'the performances shall be such as* parents and guardians can safely patronize. But I caii assure these gentlemen, without being a prophet, that if their promises are fulfilled the income -of their theatre ■will not be sufficient to pay for the lights and the door- keeper. Experiments of this sort, as we shall see, have been tried, and have uniformly failed. If the theatre has at any time been a school of morals, I wOuld ask ■whence have the good influences come 1 Have they been furnished by the authors of the plays 1 Have they come from the teachings or private character of the actors 7 Have they risen from the immaculate purity of the auditors in the pit ? Or have they descended from the gallery ? Have the females who occupy the third tier taken that elevated position in order to discharge their duties as teachers of morality ? Let us look at these points, that we may be enabled to decide upon the real tendency and character of theatres.* We have seen what kind of influences would naturally flow from the origin of the theatre.- Let us next ex- amine the character of the plays which have been most generally performed. I am ready to allow that in the department of dramatic literature we have many speci- mens of fine writing. Some of the ancient Greek tragedies, and some plays in the English tongue, are distinguished for purity,, vigor of style, splendid imagery and noble sentiments. Minds of the highest order have given us the fruits of their genius in dramatic produc- tions of exquisite beauty and enduring reputation. 116 LECTXnS,BS TO TODNG MEN. Sophocles, one of the most eminent of the Oreek poets, A presents in his tragedies a high ailll noble standard, to which man should aspire. His language is bold, rich, and flowing ; his conceptions lofty and striking, and hi? sentiments and character were such as secured the admi- ration of his countrymen. Euripides was distinguished among the ancient writers of tragedy for his purity and morality. In Shakspeare it is almost superfluous to say that there is much to admire, and even love. We find in his writings a profusion of noble thoughts, grand conceptions, splendid images, and excellent maxims. But those parts of his plays that are free from the stain of vice may be far more profitably read in private, than listened to amid the glare and tumult of a crowded theatre. The fact, however, that there have been a few unex- ceptionable plays, does not prove that all are pure, truthful and harmless. We are Tiot to rest our argu- ment upon isolated instances, that have escaped cor- rupting influences, but upon these writers as a whole. What, then, are the characterisHiic features of the plays which have been acted in the theatres of Greece, Rome, France, England and America ? In the first place, they are marked by a reckless dis- regard of moral truth. They violate the principles of justice, integrity and honesty. Historical facts are per- verted, and truth is distorted, in order to add to the excitement and effect of the performance. Every principle that contributes to a sound morality, or that is deemed essential to the good of society, is THE THEATEB. 117 sported with or despised to accomplish the Writer's ends. A reader of the old English dramatiste, says a writer in the North American Review t* "would see the nature of man revealed in its most terrible aspects of crime and suffering ; all the restraints, both on depravity and virtue, torn violently away, and the heart, in its naked reality, laid open to view. All the conventional pro- prieties and even decencies of. language he would find continually violated. The bad* and the good, the great and the mean, wisdom and folly, mirth and grief, he would see jostling each other in seeming inextricable confusion. He would hear not only the natural language of passion, even to the lowest tone that the heart half ^whispers to itself, but that . language as modified by a thousand diversities of character. .'Oaths and vulgar- ities would ring through his brain, just as some exquisite strain of poetry had died away on his ear." Dramatic literature, as a whole, is also eminently anti-Christian in its character. Much of it is thoroughly pervaded with the spirit of infidelity and atheism. It abounds in the most shameless profanity, and the most irreverent allusions and appeals to the Almighty. The doctrines of the Bible, the mission, deeds and holy words of the Messiah, the lives and characters of emi- nent saints, are caricatured, and held up to ridicule, amid the laughs and plaudits of the auditory. The pulpit, the church, the holy rites of religion, are treated with the most intense mockery. There is a play called * Vol. Lxm. p. 82. 118 'LBCTUKES TO YOUNG MEN. The Hypocrite, wlich has often been performed in the Park Theatre, New York, and elsewhere, the express design of which is to bring religion into contempt. A pulpit is placed upon the stage, which an infamous actor ascends, and from which he delivers, in a boisterous and ranting style, a mock sermon. In irony, he warns his hearers .against attending theatr'es", and indulging in demoralizing amusements. , He refers in the most impi- ous manner to the principles and requirements of the Christian faith ; and his most atheistical utterances and blasphemous jests are received with the greatest applause. From the gallery down to the pit, these sentiments an^ blasphemies meet with a cordial response. The great mass of tragedies, and comedies too, are steeped in impiety. • They display the most bitter hos- tility to everything pertaining to Christianity. All that is tender, merciful, refined, devotional, is often hooted from the stage ; and the most flagrant crimes, low vul- garities and passions, are exhibited and applauded. The most powerful language, striking imagery, bold -meta- phors, impassioned eloquence and action, are employed to give force to these corrupting principles. Yet we are gravely told that the theatre is the school of good morals, — that it is an eflicient' auxiliary in pro- moting virtue and truth ! The stage and the pulpit are classed together in the noble work of reforming man- kind ! What a delightful spectacle, to see the. wall of bigotry, so called, broken down, and Christian ministers and stage-actors laboring together ir. the bonds of frater- THE THEATRB. » 119 nal affection ! How auspicious to the cause of vital piety, to see Christian professors crowding into the pit of the theatre, and listening to the lessons of morality- taught in this school ! I wonder where the proprietors of the new theatre in our city intend to procure their' teachers, under whbse tuition, they assure us, parents and guardians may safely place their children ! In what institution of learning are* they now receiving their education 1 When will they probably graduate? What testimonials will they bring of having trained up youth in the principles and practice of morality 1 The school-house, we are informed, is to' be very large, costly and magnificent. Architects are called upon to draft plans that will pro- vide for the greatest number and greatest comfort of the pupils ; and, surely, the teachers of such an institution should be selected with the greatest care ! But I ha-ve another plain truth to utter concerning dramatic literature, namely, it is grossly licentious. It panders to the corrupt desires of the soul, by its obscene witticisms, by weaving in the play and connect- ing with tragical scenes the passion of love. The. plots are laid and the performance arranged with skill, in order to excite impure desire, and weaken the hold of a rigid virtue upon the minds of the audience. Conjugal §delity is regarded with almost contempt, and excuses are found for the worst sins and follies of youth. If "the hero has rank, fashion, or wealth to shield him, he is encouraged to pursue a vicious course, at wha,tever sacri- fice of the peace and happiness of others. -Libertinism 120 . LBCTURIS TO TOUIfG MEN. is< stripped of 'its odiousness and deformity, presented ia.- fescinating colors, and asaoeiated ■witk a generous, free and noble nature. Everything is done in the arrange-, ment of the parts, the acting and the scenery, to render this vice attractive, and to exalt lewdness into a mere indiscreticm. Hence, thousands of youths have here taken their first lessons in a career of profligacy, or in the arts of seduction. They have been taught to regard ■with favor that which they had formerly looked upon with loathing and disgust. I hesitate not to affirm that the theatres of our large cities are the most powerful auxiliaries of the brothels that exist. They are but richly decorated and splendid gateways to the haunts of prostitution, to the chambers of death. Bedford, an able writer on the drama, enumerates seventy thousand instances of impiety and immorality in the plays that he examined, many of which are still retained upon the stage. Another writer spes^s. of the Greek comedies as thoroughly pervaded with the spirit of pollution ; and he remarks upoa the corrupt character of the audience that would tolerate such revolting inde- cencies. ■' Plato denounced the theatre as dangerous to morality; and Socrates never attended except when a play of Euripid^ was to be performed, on account of the im- moral influences that corrupted his mind. Seneca says of theatrical exhibitions,. " Nothing is so pernicious to good morals as to be present at any of these spectacles. Vice easily finds its way into the heart throu^ the; pleasurable emotions -which they excite- iVom such^ . THE THBATKB. . 121 scenes I depart more avaricious, more ambitious, more luxurious, than before." Ovid advised the Emperor Augustus to suppress this kind of amusement, because it was, in his view, a grand source of corruption. Even the infidel Rousseau wrote against the stage with much eloquence and force. When it was .proposed, in Geneva, to establish a theatre, he vehemently opposed the measure, and declared that no friend of virtue could approve of it. Julian, the apostate from Christianity, also speaks of theatres and actors as so many corrupters.of mankind. And yet, in this nineteenth century, in this Christian tity of Boston, men of wealth", respectability and influ- ence, are found who are zealously engaged in the erection of a new theatre ; and the enterprise is going forward with scarcely, as far as I am aware, a breath of opposi- tion. Do we not need some pagan philosopher,, or a Rousseau, to rise up and enter his solemn protest against the measure? It will also aid us materially in forming a just estimate of theatrical exhibitions, to inquire into the lives of actors and actresses, and into the views which are entertained respecting them by the refined and intel- lectual classes in society. If the theatre, as its advocates contend, is the school of good morals, the profession of the actor should not only be deemed reputable, but should be held in the highest estimation.^ These teach- ers of morality should be admitted to the most intel leetual and cultivated circles, and should be encouraged and sustained by all the Mends of. virtue. But wfll the proprietors and palrons of the new theatre in our city 11 122 tBCTURES TO YOUNG MEN. receive at their tables those whom they may einploy upon the stage, and allow them to associate freely with their wives and daughters 1 Will they accompany them to the halls of literary' instruction, or invite them to take seats in their pews on the Sabbath 1 Look -at the profession itself. Is there anything in it dignified, ennobling, or calculated to inspire respect, con- fidence and esteem 1 The best that we can say of the actor is, that it is ' his aim to amuse the public, to afford a temporary excitement and enjoyment. He does not expect to go beyond this. He does not aim at making any lasting and salutary impressions. All his energieSj time, talents, eloquence,- powers of imitating and portray- ing character, are devoted to the sole purpose of amuse- ment. He is inspired by no lofty purposes, is stimulated by no hopes of achieving any great and noble ends, is rewarded by no satisfactory reflections upon the benefi- cent results of his industry and toil. When the actor has laid aside his kingly and glittering robes, and the lights are extinguished, and the curtain falls, and the audience disperse, what is there left of him? After assuming a, fictitious character, and struggling to per- sonify another, — to enter into his views, feelings, prin- ciples and conduct,— what is his preparation of mind for the discharge of the real duties of life, and meeting its vicissitudes and trials 1 How much of a disposition has his employment awakened in his mind to attend to the solemn interests of eternity ? Were this profession only trivial, and the object of the actor simply to afford innocent amusement to the THE THBATKB. 123 public, we should not be so earnest in our censure. But this public will not be satisfied with innocent amusement. The patrons of the new theatre in Boston' will not be satisfied with it. Those who resort to the play-house go to have their depraved tastes gratified, their strongest palssions excited, their sensibilities moved by tragical and horrible scenes. And these desires the actor must grat- ify, or he will have thin houses and lose his support. He must open his mind and his heart to the full influ- ences of envy, jealousy, malice, revenge and licentious- ness. One night, he must act the part of a highway robber, watching for his prey, laying snares to entrap the unwary traveller. The next night, he must realize the character of a murderer, — imbibe his cruel spirit, per- sonify his lawless revenge, utter his profane words, and do his bloody (ieeds. On another occasion he becomes a foul seducer, practising all the arts and stratagems of the accomplished libertine. The actress too, with a refined and delicate nature, must cater to the taste of rude and profligate spectators ; must personate characters lost to all modesty and moral principle ; must, by her attitudes, dress, language and acting,- minister to the corrupt desires of the vicious. Now, I would ask, is it possible for any man or woman to pass through such a process, night after night, and remain uncoritaminated ? Can a person breathe the spirit, think the thoughts and perform the deeds, of vile and polluted characters, and not be touched by their vileness nor tainted by 'their pollution 1 Besides, when we consider how much easier it is to yield to temptation 124 LECTURES TO TOUNQ MEN. than to resist it, and to how great an extent this clasa of persons exclude themselves from the benefits of religious instruction and the restraints of pure and refined society, we see at once how great is the improbabiUty that they will escape the power of such pernicious influences. And the history of the theatre abundantly proves that they have not escaped. From the time that Thespis went about with his itinerant gingers and actors in a rude cart, down to the present hour, the mass of stage-players have been far from examples of virtue and rigid morality. A few, indeed, have maintained a respectable position in society; but where there is "one Garrick, or Siddons, there are thousands who have led profligate and aban- doned lives. The infldel Rousseau, to whom we have already referred, says, " I observe, in general, that the situation of an actor is a state of licentiousness and bad morals ; that the men are abandoned to disorder ; that the women lead a scandalous life: that the one and the other, at once avaricious and profane, ever over- whelmed with debt and ev^r prodigal, are as unrestrained in their dissipation as they are void of scruple in respect to the means of providing for it. In all countries their profession is dishonorable. * ** * These, are incon- testable facts. You will say that they result only from prejudices. I agree to it. But, these prejudices being universal, we must seek for a universal cause ; and 1 do not see where we can find it, except in the profession itself I might impute these prejudices to the declama- tion of priests, if I did niit find tlfem established among the Romans before the birth of Christianity ; and not THE THEATRE. ' 125 only vaguely scattered in tlie minds pf the people, but authorized by express laws, which declared actors infa- mous, and took from them the title and rights of Roman citizens." Many other writers, ancient and modern, infidel and Christian, have left on record testimony similar -to that of Rousseau. Among the Christian fathers, and in all ages of the church, the stage has been condemned as a prolific source of vise and debauchery. And all the eiforts that have been made to purge the stage of its impure and impious tendencies, to reform the theatre in its various departments, and to elevate the morals and improve the character of actors, have proved abortive ; showing, conclusively, that the evils which we denounce are inherent in the System itself, in the plays that are performed, in. the style of acting that is demanded by the auditory, and in the principles on which the theatre is hased, and by which it is supported. '' There is no part of the theatrical economy," says one, "with which I am unacquainted ; and it is my personal and complete knowl- edge of that economy which forces upon me the convic- tion that, were another Ezekiel to arise, and another angel to descend to exhibit to him the greater and greater abominations of this land, he would reserve for the astonished and indignant prophet a display of the iniquities of a London theatre, as the last and most fearful chambers of imagery." We would next inquire, By what classes in the cowf- munity are our theatres mainly supported 7 If they are sustained by the virtuous, benevolent and Christian 11* 126 LBCTUKES TO TOTJNG MEN. portions of society, then this is strong evidence in their favor. If those who are seeking useful knowledge, men- tal culture, or moral improvement, attend upon these exhibitions, then we will give up the contest, and allow that our opposition results from prejudice and ignorance. But what are the facts in the case? It is notorious that the theatre is sustained by the frivolous, the immoral and the worthless classes in society. The audiences are chiefly made up of the devotees«of fashion; idle prof- ligates, whose only business is to seek amusement and excitement; broken-down merchants, who have cheated their creditors and retired upon the spoils ; husbands who have no taste for domestic peace and enjoyment ; fathers who have no care for the morals of their children ; liber- tines whose highest aim is the gratification, of their lusts, and that unfortunate class of females whose miseries are equalled only by their vices. And such audiences the theatre must gratify, or it will perish. The idea that it can be sustained on any other principle is in the highest degree absurd. Let the managers and actors attempt to contribute to the moral and intellectual improvement of their auditors, and the effort would be treated with the greatest contempt and scorn. The cry from the rude and vulgar throng in the pit, and echoed from the boxes and gallery, would be, "Away with such sermonizing, cant, puritanism ! We come here to be amused, not ben- efited." If religion is alluded to, it must be in ridicule .or mockery, in order to be acceptable to the auditors. And it is a fact which cannot be disputed, that, in pro- portion as religion haa been disregarded, and the gospel THE THEATBE. 127 despised, aid its sacred truth trodden under foot, theatres have prospered. During the bloody revolution in France, theatres greatly increased. "While courts of justice," says Burke, "were thrust out by Jacobin tribunals, and silent churches were only the funeral monuments of de- parte'd religion, there were in Paris no fewer than twenty- eight theatres, great and small, most of them kept open at the public expense, and all of them crowded every night. Among the gaunt forms of famine, — amidst the yells of murder, the tears of affliction, and the cries of despair, — amid, these, the song, the dance, the mimic scene and the buffoon laughter, went on as regularly as in the gay hour of festive peace." In a report made by a committee of one of the royal theatres of London, it is stated that when a proposition was made to exclude vicious females, in comphance with the wishes of many who threatened to withdraw their support if such persons were admitted, the measure was rejected, on the ground that, if adopted, the institution could not be supported. But we have a case bearing upon this point nearer home. The late Tremont Theatre, in this city, was, for a time, conducted upon the principle of reform. The sale of intoxicating drinks was abolished, in consideration of which the manager was not required to pay the usual tax for a license. The announce- ment was also made that n6 females would be admitted to the theatre unaccompanied by gentlemen, as many moral persons, who loved the drama, would not attend if such profligate characters were admitted. But the loss 128 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. consequent upon the removal of the bar and the exclu- sion of these characters, ~and upon those "who remained away because prostitutes were not to be found there, was 80 great, that the theatre could not be sustained. It was stated, in a published report, that, if the manager had the building rent free, he could not, under this reform system, make his income suflScient to defray the other expenses. Thus it was proved that rum arid prostitutes must come to the rescue of the theatre, or it •must perish. Now, we would ask where are the proprietors of the new theatre to find the pure and select audifences, and the immaculate actors and actresses, who are to sustain their large and costly institution ? Are thSy now in a course of preparation, under the good moral influences that have emanated from those who are interested in this enterprise? Are they being prepared by the firm resist- ance which has been made against the Maine law ; by the , fifteen hundred grog-shops that are kept in full blast in our city,^ by the public desecration of the Sabbath, in running the mail on that sacred day ? Are these, and other things that might be mentioned, preparing the public mind to receive and sustain this pure and unex- ceptional theatre 1 Even admitting that the plays shall have a good moral tendency, and that vicious females are excluded, and no rum sold in or near the theatre, — (which latter supposi- tion can hardly amount to a probability at present,) —^ can we expect that the industrious, virtuous ana devout portion of the community, will firequerit the theatre in THE THEATRE. 129 sufficient numbers to sustain it ? Aad, if they do, what, in the mean time, will become of the large class of feshion- able profligates and scoffing atheists whom actors are to help ministers of the gospel to reform 1 Who will look after their interests while their precious "school of morals " is occupied by those sedate and pious classes with whom they have no sympathy, and have no desire to associate ? » But they need not be under any apprehensions that these seats will be taken from them by this class of per- sons. Piety, benevolence and devotion, will seek other retreats beside those which the play-house offers ; while in this school -the same lessons will be taught which have charaaterized and supported it in times past. . Let a new theatre be planted in a large city, and at once the force of every species of temptation is aug- mented, and the power of every vice to destroy the bodies and souls of men is increased. The temples of Bacchus rise up around it, which are thronged with the votaries of the god of wine, revelling in debauchery and shouting the praises of their deity ; temples, from which piay be seen issuing at midnight the delirious inebriates to wander or perish in the darkness, or stagger to their homes, a curse to those whom they shojcild cherish and love. The snares of her whose " house inclineth imto death," an(/ whose victims are in the depths of hell, will be laid within its walls. The weak, the unwary, the young man void of understanding, will be taken in her toils, and led to the slaughter. Anrid the music, be- wildering excitements, and fascinating pleasures, of the 130 LECTURES TO TOUNG MEN. play-house, multitudes of youth will make shipwreck of their moral principles, and prepare to pltinge into every form of vice and crime. Some will enter upon a career of profligacy and wretchedness that -will end in suicide. Others will imbibe principles that will lead them on to robbery and murder, and consign them to infamy and a miserable death., Snail we,' then, countenance an institution that is so full of evil, from which flow so many destructive- and deadly streams 1 Shall we refuse to utter our solemn protest against an institution that had its origin amid the wild festivities and orgies of Bacchus ; thait has been the prolific source of impiety, sensuality and wretchedness ; that has been condemned by pagan philosophers, and heathen legislators ; that has been strenuously opposed by the Christian church in all ages ; that has cursed the civilized world for two thousand years, and sent, by its damning influence, multitudes of souls to the regions of despair ? I appeal to you as patriots who love your . country, and who 'vR)uld see the interests of "society pro- tected against such baneful influences ! I appeal to you as Christians. By your love of the church, and the truths of the Bible, and the gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, I plead with you to join in the crusade against this infiiiel and profane institution ! I appeal to you, as parents, to warn your children against the deadly atmo- sphere, the pernicious and soul-destroying influences, of the play-house ! O, could we summon from the spirit- world the thousands to whose profligate and fatal career the theatre was but a fascinating and brilliant gateway, THE THEATRE. ISl — wto went down, down into the darkness of a horrible death, amid the music and bewildering fascination of the play-house, — how would the testimony from their burn- ing lips and agonized countenances thrill and appal' every heart ! With what absorbing ihterest should we listen to the details of their ruin, and hear how they were first ■led astray, — how the voice of conscience was hushed, the heart hardened, their moral principles shattered, their passions inflamed, and the whole soul spell-bound by the delusive phantoms of vicious pleasure ! With what in- tense emotion and fiery eloquence would they depict the horrors of that hour, when the bright visions that had allured them on faded away, and the dark shadows of sorrow fell upon their pathway, and the dim, spectral form of remerse beckoned them on, and pointed to the regions of eternal despair ; when the wicked deeds of the past thronged around the memory, and mocked at the agony of the distressed spirit ; when the shrieks of the fiends around the gates of hell first pierced their ears and the last ties that bound them tS hope and to happi- ness were severed ! YII. GAMBUNG. "Instruments of cruelty are in their habitations. 0, my soul, come not thou into their secret ; unto their assembly, mine honor, he not thou united I "—Gen. 49 : 5, 6. I WOULD next direct your attention to Gambling, another maelstrom in the great ocean of" life. I would warn you against its dark waters, bid you beware how you enter its outermost ring, tell you how rapidly the force of the current increases, and point out the fearful vortex that has swallowed up its thousands of wretched victims. This vice is so monstrous^ the evils flowing ftom it are so numerous and glaring, that it would seem as though it needed only to be exposed, to be shunned by every young man who is not bereft of his reason. Let the case be fairly stated, without exaggeration, or any false coloring given to the pictures which are presented, — let the youth know beforehand the consequences of indulging in this sin ; its efiects upon his character, habits and prospects; the deceit, stratagems and frauds, con- GAMBLING. 133 nected with it ; the kindred vices into which its victims inevitably, fall, — and he would no more enter a gambling- hall for amusement, than li^rould sport upon the crater of a raging volcano. Men are not so insane as to ruin themselves deliberately, and with their eyes open. No man becomes a professed gambler under the expectation of blasting- his hopes, planting daggers in his heart, and bringing ruin upon his soul. The youth who for the first time finds himself in a fashionable gambling-saloon has no intention of making shipwreck of his moral prin- ciples, disappointing the cherished hopes of friends, fill- ing a mother's heart with anguish, and bringing down a father's gray hairs with sorrow to the grave. Convince him that such will be the end of this night's beginning, and he would flee from that hall as from the jaws of death. But he has been enticed there, and he tarries there under a fatal delusion. His attention is absorbed by the brilliancy of the scene, the gay company, the exhilaration of the hour, the excitement connected with the thought that he may win in a few moments, by chance or skill, large sums of money. He has come xjnly for a little amusement, or to gratify a friend, or to try his fortune. But he knows not where he stands. He knows not that he is breathing a deadly atmosphere ; that beneath the fair exterior and winning manners of the company before him tha fiercest passions are raging. He sees not the burning ajvarice which pervades every heart, and has consumed to ashes all the virtues that l)elon-g to humanity. He sees not the " instruments of eruelty" that are in these habitations, and is not con- 12 134 LECTURES- TO TOUNG MEN. scious tlaat he is surrounded by fiends, who will, if they can, take from him his last drop of blood. All is bright now. The dark shadows are yet to come. The cup that is pressed to his lips seems pure, sparkling and attractive. The poison which it contains has not yet touched his vitals. His heart is fresh, buoyant and confiding. It is warm with affections. It is pervaded by a sense of honor, and ennobled by generous sentiments. It has not yet been -corrupted, brutalized and laid waste, by fierce passions and base principles. 0, if my warn- ing voice shall save one youth from the snares and fascinations of this vice, I shall not have spoken this night in vain ! In treating this subject, I would include, under the term Gambling, all games of hazard, whether played with cards, dice or billiard-balls, for money or its equivalent. The objections that lie against the system lie against every department of it, and every avenue that leads to it. It matters not how trivial is the amount that is staked, or how firm may be one's resolutions not to risk large sums and not to become an habitual gambler, — the principle involved, and the dangers connected with the evil, are the same. The most inveterate gambler, who is dead to all moral con- siderations and humane feelings, whose swindling opera- tions are carried on upon 3, gigantic scale, commenced his career by playing for a glass of wine, or an oyster- supper, or a small amount of money, just to give interest to the game. He, perhaps, laughed at the idea that he should ever play except occasionally for amusement, or ' GAMBLING. 135 to gratify his associates. No man reaches the lowest depths of vice or villany at a single leap. His progress is gradual. Step by step he descends. One restraint after another is removed. One moral principle after another is shattered. The process of hardening the heart and blunting the sensibilities goes on from day to day. Conscience is gradually hushed, until the mind, bereft of every virtue, lost to all honor and humanity, partakes of the nature of a fiend. The ruinous effects of gambling are sure to follow from small beginnings, because the inherent, vital princi- ple of the systeni is itself wrong. - Gambling is based upon the unjust principle of taking the property of another without an equivalent being rendered. It starts openly with this specific design. It does not pre- tend to give a just remuneration for what is received. It is virtually a system of robbery ; differing, however, from ordinary theft in these particulars, that each party designs to fleece the other, and each is willing to riin the risk of being robbed for the privilege of having an opportunity of robbing hil neighbor. It is true that the gambler does not, like the highwayman, present a pistol at the head of his antagonist, and -demand his money or his life. But he does, with cards, dice or billiard-balls, demand his money, and the life of his principles and his soul. The idea that one can gamble without doing vio- lence to his moral nature is absurd. For, by yielding to the temptation in a single instance, he adopts as his own the vicious principle that is inherent in gambling. He aims at getting possession of another's property 136 LECTUBES TO TOTJNO MEN. Tritbout making to him any return. Ths fact that each party acts voluntarily does not take awaj the injustice of the principle, any more than the crime of the duellist is lessened because he goes voluntarily into the field. Indeed, the duellist is guilty of a double crime; for Jie is: both a murderer and a suicide. So the gambler pursues a course that is ruinous to himself, as ^ell as bis opponent. If he does not lose his mdney, he loses that which is infinitely more valuable than money. Besides, he sins against the great law tfiat gives stability and prosperity to society. He disturbs the relations of the principles of right and justice to the peace and welfare of the community ; and, were hia example universally followed, all honorable dealingft would be at an end, mutual confidence would be broken up, and the bonds of society would be severed. I scarcely know of a vice that makes so complete wreck of man's moral nature ; that tears away so e^tually the restraints of virtue, honor and religion ; that increases so rapidly the proclivity of the human heart to other vices ; that gives' such intensity to the evil passions of the soul, as gambling. We look upon a pro- fessed gambler as an outcast from society, as one who has no ^rmpathies or feelings in common with the rest of mankind. We regard him as an accomplished villain, — as an emin^it scoundrel among the common herd of scoundrels. His lust for gain is not like ordinary avarice. It is more intense and absorbing. His indif- ference to the welfare of his victims is the most com- plete that is attainable this side of hell. His cruelty is QAMBLINQ. 137 of tke most cool and deliberate and merciless sort. The distresses of a youth who has been stripped of his last cent, — the agonies of a dying father, whom sorrow over his lost son has brought to the grave, — the sight of 'a starv- mg mother, whom his rapacity has rendered penniless, makes no more impression upon him than the passing wind. I have read of instances where fhe death of one of a circle of gamblers has not interrupted the game, and where a suicide in a gambling-hall has made only a sHght and temporary impression. In regard to the extent of the evil, it is the universal testimony of those persons who have examined the subject, that gambling prevails, more or less, in every state, city and town, throughout our land. Prom the most fashionable and refined circles down to the lowest haunts of infamy, ^ among statesmen, particularly at the South and West, who make our laws, and are ap- pointed for the defence of the honor, integrity and virtue, of the nation, — among the judges in our courts, law- yers at the bar, — among merchants, mechanics, clerks, apprentices, and even by prisoners in their gloomy cells^ gambling is carried on. In the city of New York there are iiearly six thousand gambhng-hells ; and, in the judgment of the editor of the New York Tribune and other distinguished men, one thousand young men are every year ruined in that city by this vice. Who can estimate the amount of agony, of crime, of distress, to fathers, mothers, wives and children, produced annually by these fountains of iniquity ! The ruin of one young man is an awful calamity. It is a terrible thing to him- 12.* ' . 138 LECTURES TO YOVSd MEN. self to haye his moral principles shattered, his . hopes blasted, his energies wasted by the fierce excitements of this vice. It is terrible to have one family struck by the lightning of such a calamity, and hearts wounded that have been warm with affection and buoyant with hope. Now, multiply this case by a thousand, and trace out the other evils that branch forth from this, and you obtain a faint idea of the awful consequences of gambling in a single city. In Cincinnati this vice prevails to an alarming extent. There are in that city five hundred and fifty -eight gam- bling-rooms. Nine are devoted to faro, thirty to bil- liards, twenty-seven to rondo and keno, seventy-two to bagatelle, and four hundred and twenty to cards, In New Orleans there are thousands of these " hells," fitted up in the most superb manner, decorated with rich specimens of art, voluptuous pictures, furiiished with luxurious couches and lounges, and everything to fas- cinate the eye and corrupt the heart. Here, every night, scenes are enacted that should fill that whole fcity with lamentation and tears. Victim after victim is offered up to the cruel Moloch. Young men of promise, of am- bition for honor and distinction, of affection for kindred and friends, enter in, and aee Slain. In the city of Boston we are suffering Scorn the ravages of this vice. In Mardi, 1851, the city marshal, with a company of police officers, made a descent upon ten or twelve gaming-houses, and arrested one hundred and twelve persons who were found within them. Li speakr- ing of these individuals, one of the Boston papers said, GAMBLIIWJ. 139 "We are informed by the officers that the persons arrested represent all classes of society, from the busi ■ ness man of State-street, down to the meanest Ann< street gambler." Not far from the Common there are saloons and club- rooms, elegantly furnished, where, I am informed,, gam- bling is carried on, and thousands of dollars are lost and won in a single night. In several of these establishments the company is very select, and only wealthy and refined victims are allowed to present themselves for sacrifice. The work of ruin is conducted with great decorum, and according to the strictest rules of etiquette. No noise, shouts or groans, are heard issuing from the brilliant halls. The door-keeper has about him an air of quiet- ness and grave responsibility. It is his duty to keep rudeness and boisterous vulgarity out, as well as preserve order within. The conversation is quiet. The wines are choice and costly. The pictures are elegant, dis^ playing great artistic skill. " The instruments of cru- elty " are smooth, polished, and highly ornamented. Fortunes are ruined, the peace of families destroyed, and souls sent to hell, with deliberation and secrecy. Were these club-rooms in New Orleans, the doors would be .thrown wide open, and spectators would be freely ad- mitted. But, in this Puritan city, where churches, Sabbath-schools, benevolent societies and lectures to the ' young abound, great caution and secrecy must be ob- served. The late city marshal has informed me that, since that attack made upon the gambling-rooms in March, 1851, the doors of most of them are kept fast- 140 -LECTURES 10 TOUNQ MEN. ened, for feai of another surprise and descent upon them. Only the initiated and those youth who are decoyed to these places by the accomplished villains who are on the watch for prey are admitted. Occasionally facts come to light which, like volcanic eruptions, reveal the existence and extent of the raging fires beneath. The mania for gambling has been greatly increased by the California excitement. Soon after the discovery of gold in that country, several gamblers left New York, and went there upon robbing expeditions, and returned, in several cases, rich with spoils. One, who had gained about forty thousand dollars, purchased the materials for a house, a few billiard-tables, and the necessary imple- ments and furniture for an extensive gambling establish- ment, and returned with them to San Francisco, where he is said to be accumulating a large fortune. The young men who have flocked to those golden hills and valleys to secure the precious metals have been, from the very nature of their employment, and the chances con- nected with mining, easily drawn into the fearful vortex. I cannot better describe the gambling mania of that golden region than by quoting a description which has been given of the gambling-saloons in San Francisco : " These saloons of San Francisco are the most splendid . in the world. Those of London, Paris, Havana, New York or New Orleans, are far beneath them in splendor of decoration and magnitude of dealings. The Bella Union, El Dorado, and the Verandah, are conspicuous foi* their interior arrangements, and the number of persons which nightly can be seen in them. It seems to be a GAMBLING. ^ 141 monomania which seizes all adventurers immediately upon their arrival there. They forget their resolutions ; they determine to rapidly acquire an independence, and rush at once to the faro or monte banks, and become easy prey for the cunning, wily and experienced gamblers, who so plausibly encourage them to tey again. Men who at home never thought "of trying games of chance become infatuated, and eagerly seize every oj^rtunity, appa- rently, to lose their money. " The hells are fitted up with superb furniture and apartments. On the gilded walls, often painted in fresco, are grouped copies of the most beautiful gems of modern and ancient art. * * * * • The couches, lounges, divans, etc., scattered along the sides of these temples of chance, heaped with cushions of crimson, green and gold, purple and azure, are of every graceful and lovely shape. Now' a carved sea-shell, an antique chariot, a Gothic nondescript, carved with all the exquisite minuteness of the Elizabethan age. Upon the marble tables are scat-, tered flower-shaped vases of alabaster or Bohemian glass of every hue, and quaint jars of costly porcelain. The lamps are veiled, until their light softly floats in the air, and mysteriously reveals the surrounding objects. " But the Parisian mirrors reflect from their polished surfaces, in contrast to all this splendor, the haggard faces of desperate men, wild with loss and excitement. To them this splendor is taunting; it affords nothing of pleasure, everything of disgust. The daylight softly streakg the skies, but still they stake their little remain- mg, with the vain hope of a sudden run, until, completely 142 LBCTUKBS TO Y0TJN3 MEN. drained, they rush, exhausted and frenzied, from the room. "Dealing the treacheifeus cards from an ornamented silver box, sits at the table the keeper of the faro-bank. The game requires all his attention and that of an asso- ciate, who generally sits by his side to aid in paying and taking. The crowd press eagerly to make their several bets ; the cards glide out of their confinement for either loss or gain. Perhaps a series of winnings draws attention to a particular card, and hundreds of thousands are immediately staked upon it. As it wins or loses, rejoicings or curses fill the air ; but, heedless of both, the game goes on, till sheer exhaustion, or the bank's ill luck, closes it. " In one of these — the El Dorado Gaming-house — we Saw a young man, certainly not more than nineteen, walk boldly to the table and deposit a large sum upon the ace. He won; and, letting the increased amount remain, he won again. Seizing the whole, he walked coolly away, the winner of twenty-two thousand dollars in dust. He was followed by a miner ,-»- a rough, reck- less, hardy, yet honest-looking fellow, — who placed his bag of dust, receatly acquired, upon the card which had thus proved so lucky for the youth. He won also ; and, doubling the bet, he won again. Elated by his success, he placed the whole on the same card, and was followed by at least a dozen others. All around and on the card were heaps of gold, money, dust, ore, and counters. The ace had proved so remarkably lucky, all were induced to risk a large sum. Instantly all was hushed and still as GAMBLING. 143 death. The faces of all were blanched with suspense, — both the dealers and the betters. Slowly the cards went forth ; not a sound was heard until the ace was revealed, favorable to the bank. Curses and imprecations, shouts of ' Foul ! , foul ! ' resounded, with hoarse threats and expressions, — until the two dealers coolly produced their revolvers, declaring everything fair, and announced the bank a winner of ninety-five thousand dollars ! These scenes are less frequent now than at the commencement of the gold excitement," but the truth of them will be readily testified to by hundreds of returned adventurers." On the great routes of travel, also, on board our West- ern and southern steamers, gambling prevails to a fearful extent. The rattling of dice and the shuffling of cards is often kept up during the whole night ; and those in their berths are disturbed by the oaths and curses that break forth from their victims who have been swindled out of their last dollar. On the boats that run up and down the Ohio and the Mississippi rivers, the most desperate gamblers are often found. , They come on board at dif- ferent stopping-places' towards evening, seek out their victims, collect a company for a game, and, by the aid of associates, they fleece all who are not »})le to resist their skill or systems of deception. Many persons who are travelling for pleasure or on business thus often lose their all in a single night. Merchants squander the funds . upon which they depended to pay their debts or purchase goods. Lawyers stake the property of their clients which may be in their possession. Sons bring bankruptcy upcto their parents ; and, in a thousand ways, the unwary 144 LECTUEE3 TO YOXmd MEN. are ensnared, and, while deluded with visions of speedily- acquired wealth, are ruined. Gambling, as it is well known, prevails also among the nations of Europe. Large establishments are located in the chief cities and at the German watering-places. Dickens, in his "Gamblers of the Rhine," and other writers, depict, in gloomy language, the fearful extent of this vice.* ■* In proof of this, I would quote the fcllotring statements : " Of all the Germail gambling towns, Baden-Baden is said to he the most beautiful. The town nestles, as it were, in a sheltered yalley, opening among the hills of the Black Forest. There is said to be more,playing at Baden than at Uomburg and Wiesbaden put together. From May till the end of September, roulette ^nd rouge-et-noir, thB mutter of the man who deals the cards, and the rattle of the marble, are never still. The profits of the tables at this place are very large. The man who had them some years ago retired with an immense for- tune ; and one of his successors came from the Palais Bnyale, when public gaming was forbidden in Paris, and was little less successful than his predecessor. " The permanent residents of Baden could alone form any idea of the sums netted, and only such of those as were living near the.bank- ers. They could scarcely avoid seeing the bags of silver — five-ftauo pieces chiefly — that passed between the gaming-tables and the bank. A pro^t of one thous^d pounds a fortnight was thought a sign of a bad season ; and so it must have been, when it is calculated that the gambling-table keeper paid the duke a clear four thousand pounds a year as the regal share of the plunder, and agreed to spend two thou- sand a year in decorating the town of Baden. " Go into one of these places, and whom do you see ? The off-scour- ings of European cities, professional gamblers, ex-qfficers of all sorts of armies ; portionless younger brothers ; pensioners ; old men and old women who hav6 outlived all other excitements ; a multitude of silly gulls, attracted by the waters, or the musio, or the &soination of GAMBLING. , 145 Without dwelling longer upon tlie extent :S gambling, I hasten to speak of its influence upon productive indus- try and business habits. play ; and a sprinkling of passing tourists, Tfrho oome and ' just look in on their way,' — generally to be disappointed, often to be fleeced. Young and handsome women are not Tery often, seen playing. ■ Gam- ing is a. vice reserved for middle age. While hearts are to be won, dollars are not worth playing for. Cards and rouge and dyspepsia seem nearly allied, if we may judge from the specimens of humanity seen at the baths of Wiesbaden, Homb'urg and Baden. The players — 'player and loser being almost synonymous terms — are generally thin and anxious ; the bankers, fat and stolid. As the brass whirls ^round, the table-keeper has the look of a quiet, bloated spider, seem- ingly passionless, but with an eye that glances over every chance on ■» the board. At his side see an elderly man, pale and thin, the muscles of whose lower jaw are twitching spasmodically,, yet with jaded, forced resignation, he loses his last five pounds. Next to him is a woman highly dressed, with false hair and teeth, and a great deal of paint. She has a card in her hand, on which she pricks the numbers played, and thus flatters herself she learns the best chances to take. Next to her see one of the most painful sights these places display. A father, mother, and a young girl, are all trying their fortune, — the parents giving money to the child, that they 'may have her good luck,' reckless of the fatal taste they are planting in her mind. Next is a Jew, looking all sorts of agonies ; and one may fancy he knows he; is losing in an hour what it cost him years of cunning and self-denial to amass. And so on, round the table, we find ill-dressed and well- dressed Germans, French, Russians, English, Yankees, Irish, mixed up together in one eager crowd, — thirsting to gain without giving value in return ; risking what they have, in an insane contest which they know has destroyed thousands before them ; losing their money, and winning disgust, despondency, and, often, despair and premature death. Never a year is said to go by without its complement pf ruined fools and hasty suicides. The neighboring woods afford a oonvepieut shelter, and a trigger, or a handkerchief and a bough, complete the tragedy." 13 146 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. The day-latorer, in the midst of his toil, enjcys the consciousness that he is doing that which, in some way, will henefit the community. If he is but levelling a road, building a wall, digging a canal, he is achieving some good. Even the distiller, in his horrid, destructive pursuit, may gather some faint ray of consolation from the hope that a portion of his alcohol may be used for mechanical or medicinal -purposes. But what possible allevisCting circumstance can the gambler discover in his pursuit ? It is true that a few persons may, by games of hazard, amass wealth ; but every dollar of this wealth is the fruit of some one's toil. It has been produced under the universal law which Heaven has instituted, — that man by the sweat of his brow shall obtain bread. It has, in all probability, been wrung from the pittances that were the last stay of some ruined family. It is cov- ered with the poor man's sweat, the tears of orphans, the blood of broken hearts. It has cost agonies that have pierced multitudes, who, safe from the fascination of the gambling-table, might have Occupied positions of respecta- bility and happiness. Much of it, we know, is the fruit of stupendous frauds practised by clerks upon their employers, by merchants upon their creditors, by officers upon banks, insurance companies, and other institutions. Facts almost without number I might quote illustrative of this truth. The robbery, in 1849, of the Merchants' Exchange Bank, in Wall-street, of thirty-seven hundred dollars, by a man who, in a fit of desperation, rushed from the faro-table to commit this crime; the embezzle- ment, for gambling purposes, of forty thousand dollars GAMBLING. 147 from one of the Brooklyn banks, in 1848 : the frauds committed upon a Wall-street insurance company, in 1828, to the amount of one hundred and eighty thousand dollars, sixty thousand dollars of -which were lost by the secretary in a single night, who terminated his career by suicide, — are but a sample of the appalling statistics upon this point. The very system of gambling is a direct fraud upon the community, because it violates the principle of pro- ductive industry. It professes to offer the greatest gains without labor, — professes to make fortunes turn upon the accidental position of a card, or the movement of dice. Of course, where there is gain to one party there is a corresponding loss to another. In honorable pursuits, capital is created : by the farmer, from the. soil ; by the mechanic, in the house or ship that he builds ; by those, too, who work by their intellects, and produce ideas, sentiments, and inventions. But the gambler, producing nothing, is still dependent upon the strength of some muscles for the means of filling his coffers. And here we would remark, the wrong which he inflicts upon the community is not without its reflex influence upon himself. Grains thus acquired cannot be enjoyed, for the means used to acquire them have taken away the power of rational enjoyment. The peace and tranquillity of the soul are destroyed, and the mind is left in an excited, feverish state. Conscience is aroused, and is using the wrong as 9. dagger with which to pierce the heart. To what purpose is it that a man's pockets are filled with gold, if there is an outraged monitor 148 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. withiUj that is lacerating his spirit? His only resource is to plunge the deeper into the vice. And this he is stimulated to do, whatever has been his past success. If he has been fortunate, he is encouraged to make still further eifort to add to his treasures. If he has beer unfortunate, he plays to recover what he has lost. Thus the flame feeds itself, and the deluded man goes on until the conflagration becomes too intense to be extinguished. Gambling also destroys one's business habits. Let a merchant, who has conducted his affairs with prudence and honesty, be persuaded to enter, for the first time, the gaming-hall. He is strongly opposed to gambling ; yet he concludes that there can be no harm in being a spectator of others. He sees the glitter- ing pile of coin upon the table, watches the progress of the game, becomes interested, excited, — sees that_p, sin- gle successful throw of the dice secures the entire pile to the fortunate gamestei-.. After some persuasion, he is induced to try his own fortune upon a small sum. He ~ wins. The thought enters his mind, how much easier this mode of gaining property is than by his daily toils, and how soon he might become independent and free from all care.. The charm begins to exert its fatal influ- ence. The silken cord becomes entwined around his heart. Visions of suddenly-accumulated wealth float before his imagination. He visits again and again the gambling- table. His ordinary business grows insipid in his estimation. Its routine becomes less and less inter- esting. His customers abandon him; and he enters upon a career that ends in. disgrace, infamy, or death. GAMBLINS. 149 Numerous facts might be cited showing the destructive influence of this vice upon the business community. I quote the following from a valuable publication issued by the Anti-Gambling Association : "In 1829, a large mercantile house, in Bremen sent a young man, named John Borac, as confidential agent to this country, to represent their interest here. He knew nothing of gambling at home ; but, after a short residence in New York,- became acquainted with gome billiard-saloon gamblers, who introduced him to the gam- ing-rooi;i and faro-table. He became desperately infat- uated with the game, and lost deeply. His foreign em- ployers, aware 'that all was not right,' in the summer of 1831 instituted an investigation, when it was discovered that he was a defaulter to the amount of eighty-seven thousand dollars, which he had expended in the short space of eighteen months ! He was arrested and impris- oned ; and, upon being compelled, under oath, to show in what manner he had disposed of the funds intrusted to his care, he stated that, among other losses, he had gam- bled away in New Orleans two thousand three hundred dollars ; in Fulton-street, New York, ten thousand dol- lars ; and in Lumber-street, New York, twenty-nine thousand dollars ! He was finally released from prison ; upon which, he became a gambler by profession, and a few years ago died in the New York Lunatic Asylum. "In the summer of 1850 a Western merchant, who was sojourning at the Clinton Hotel, found his way into the gambling-house N?. 10 Park-place, and lost a large sum of money. When he had looH all but his last dollar, IR* . 150 LECTURES TO TOTING MEN. he rose from, the table, and, taking a draught of intoxi- cating liquor, turned toward the dealer to look' again- upon the fascinating game. In a f*w moments, as if hope had been whispering some flattering tale, he placed his money upon a card, and, with an involuntary sigh, remarked, ' Here 1 am, a thousand miles from home, and my last dollar upon the gaming-table ! ' " During the last year, a respectable Broadway book- seller, who wa^ well sustained in his business by a wealthy friend, faifed to meet his engagements. An investigation ensued, which resulted in the discovery that he had for a long time freely indulged in gaming, and that he had lost at least fourteen thousand dollars ; to recover which, he instituted suits against a number of gamblers, — which, however, as in all other cases, resulted in comparatively nothing, but disgrace to the victim of the ill-fated passion." Gambling leads also to the greatest deception and fraud. As carried on by many professed gamblers, it is a stu- pendous system of cheating. Cards are. so printed as to be known by the back as well as the front side. The. devices are frequently changed by the manufacturers of cards -to elude detection. Oftentimes, gamblers have their secret partners, who communicate to them by signs the character of the cards in the hands of their oppo- fients. Dice, .too, are loaded with platina ; so that cal- culations, founded upon the throws, are made with absolute certainty. So perfect are these systems of fraud, that it is impossible for the iriost scientific and GAMBLING. 15] expa.'enoed players, who are honeSt, to compete with such Opponents. They are as sure of bejng swindled out of their money as- if they were forcibly robbed in the , highway. Hence the numerous instances of persons who, on entering the gambling-room, lose their all in a single night. Under the impression that they are playing on the principle of chance, they, after their first loss, take game after game, or bet after bet, increasing the sum as they advance, with the hope that fortune will turn in their favor. Under the ordinary course of chances, they have reason to expect that some instances of success will attend them. But, to their sorrow, they find themselves stripped of all. It should, therefore, be proclaimed in thunder tones throughout the land, and in the hearing of all who are exposed to this vice, that gambling, to a great extent, is founded, not upon chance, but fraud. Its supporters- are among the most • skilful villains that eUrse society. Their crimes are as low and base as they are destructive. Gold is their god, and to it they sacri- fice every humane and honorable feeling. Neither pity, justice nor humanity, can move their granite hearts. Though they see their victims writhing under their deepest agonies, they will wring from them their last dollar, and send them home ruined. The tears of starv- ing children, the groans of wretched wives, will make no more impression upon them than upon the stones in the street. It was only a few days since that I took up a newspaper and read that a merchant in a Western city, who had lost his last hundred dollars, rose from the table, drew a pistol from his pocket, and blew out his brains. 152 LECTURES a\; young men. The following, from the New York Tribune of August 19, 1850, shows what frauds are practised : "A few weeks since, Iwo gentlemen, who were on a visit to New York for the purpose of buying merchan- 'dise, were introduced to the company of two gamblers, by a friend, also a merchant, but doing business in this city. The strangers, unsuspicious of foul play, were induced to play at hazard with dice, at a hotel in the fourth ward, which has been heretofore considered highly respectable, when,' at various sittings, they lost to the tune of three thousand dollars. Last Saturday night one of them commenced playing, and played until he lost all the money he brouglit with him, besides having to give due-bills for the remainder. On telling their misfortune to one of their friends, a watch was set, and, suspicion being aroused,, the case was laid before Justice Mount- fort, who ordered the dice to be seized, when it was found that they were loaded with quicksilver." Says another writer : "Like all gambling establishments, the raffle-houses trust not only to luck, but use every means in their power to fleece their visitors. We will relate an instance which took place not long since in one of the most fash- ionable pf the concerns in our city. A gentleman who had been in the habit of meeting there with bankers, brokers, merchants' clerks, and others, whose pockets were well lined, on one occasion lost to so large an amount as to awaken suspicion in his mind, and he spoke of the fact to some of his friends. It was decided to lodge a complaint against the house with the pohce. A warrant GAMBLING. 153 was iss ied, ind the landlord arrested. While the pro- cess was pending, the raffling-dice and box which had been used in the game were seized and examined. .They were found to be false. The dice were loaded with platina, so that the small ' numbers came up with every throw. The gamblers had dice of their own, which they secretly put into the box on their turn to play. This was done so slyly as to escape detection." The deceptive means that are used to lead respectable and virtuous young men into this vice opens another dark picture in its history. A young man whose fortune is coveted is selected as a victim by the foul destroyer. His acquaintance is first sought ; and, lest his immediate introduction to the gaming-room would be too severe a shock, and defeat the fiend's plans, he is .introduced to gay and fashionable society. He is flattered, invited to travel with his friend, to visit, perhaps, the races, and to indulge in an innocent game at billiards or cards. His confidence is secured, his pride gratified, and, without much persuasion, he is induced to play for small amounts. Secret paSrtners are introduced to him. In short, he is led along, step by step, until he is swindled out of his property, and at last cast ofi" and abandoned by his destroyer. I have read narratives of such cases that have caused my blood to run cold, and excited the most profound indignation. The despicable meanness of such a course language cannot describe. To stab another through his friend- ship, to win his confidence with smiles, lead him to the 154 LECTUEBS TO YOUNG MEN. brink of destruction, and then push him over into the yawnina gulf, should make evm fiends blush with shame. It is not uncommon at the South for- persons to gamble for human beings: I was called upon, not long since, by an intelligent colored man, a preacher of the gospel, who informed me thaC he had changed owners six or eight times in the course of a day among nests of gam- blers. His body and soul, his hopes and happiness, had been staked upon the turn of dice or the position of a card. "While in the hands of these wretches he was sub- ject to cruelties that can be more easily imagined than described, — cruelties that broadly revealed to my mind, while he ■ was narrating them, the horrors of another giant sin and curse, the sin and curse of slavery. But we cannot in a single lecture even briefly portray the various features of this horrible sin. Even while we are speaking, it is blasting the hopes of the young, cor- rupting their hearts, destroying the peace of families, preparing multitudes for an early death, and making shipwreck of immortal souls. yiii. GAMBLING IN CONNECTION WITH OTHER VICES. " Fe that -walketh with wise men Bhall be wise ; but a companion of fools shaU be destroyed." — Peoveebs 13 : 20. Having treated, in our last lecture, of the nature, extent and influences of Gambling, I purpose to speak to-night of its direct fruits, and its connection with other great vices. An evil that starts upon a wrong princi- ple, the vital element of which is injustice, — an evil that in its very commencement outrages the moral feel- ings, and stabs to the heart integrity, — must have a vast productive force in creating other evils. It is neces- sarily a mighty agency in destroying all that is good in the soul, vitiating the whole character, and dragging down every lofty purpose and noble aspiration. And we find that the gambler is rapidly qualified for every other species of wickedness. The fiery excitement to which he yields himself in the gaming-room inflames every other passion. It produces a state of mind that can be satisfied only with intense and forbidden pleas- 156 LECTURES T0_ YOUNG MEN. ures. It virtually takes him out of the circle of refined rational enjoyments, and plunges him into scenes more congenial -to a corrupt tastel The gambler finds his amusement in the circus, the theatre, the lascivious dance, the race-course, and in night revellings, and bac- chanalian feats. Ordinary excitements are insipid and stale in his estimation. He would gladly witness, as a pastime, bull-fights, pugilistic contests ; and, perhaps, his cravings for excitement could only be fully satisfied by scenes such as Roman persecutors and heathen specta- tors formerly feasted their eyes upon, in which men and women were torn in pieces by wild beasts. Such bloody encounters and horrid tragedies might come up to his standard of amusement. Thus does this giant vice uncivilize a man, and throw him back into a state of barbarism. It revolutionizes his tastes, at the same time that it casts down his moral principles. If its victim has been in early life under the influence of religious sentiments, it speedily obliter- ates those sentiments from the mind. If the voice of conscience has been in past years heard, that voice is now silenced. If feelings of humanity once had influ- ence, their power is now gone. If visions of extensive usefiilness and honorable achievement once floated in the imagination, they have vanished, — vanished in most instances never to return. Nor should the youth forget that, if he is once taken in the toils of this vice, the hope of extricating himself, or of realizing his visions of wealth and happiness, is exceedingly faint. He has no rational grounds to expect (GAMBLING, WITH OTHER VICES. 157 that he caii escape the terrible consequences that are inseparably connected with this sin. Where there is one chance that he will realize his expectations, there are a thousand that those expectations will be utterly blasted. If he does not become a bankrupt in property, he is sure to become one in character and moral principle, — -in all that renders life valuable, and confers wealth upon the soul. Let me point out to you some of the direct fruits of this vice. In the first place, it is destructive of domes- tic peace and social happiness. Home, to the inveterate gambler, has few attractions. Its quiet enjoyments, its scenes of refined and innocent delight, the delicate atten- tions of an affectionate wife and devoted children, have little power over him. While sitting at his own fireside, his heart is not there. He is under the fascinating influ- ence of one passion; that engrosses his thoughts and ab- sorbs his affections. But for this, he would be a kind husband, a faithful father, a useful citizen. Occasionally some ray of aifection may dart across his heart, some faint words of kindness may escape his lips. But the tyrant to whose seductive charms he has yielded holds him in captivity, and extorts from him the time, attention and energies, that belong to others. Numerous instances might be adduced to show the destructive effects of ga,m- bling upon domestic peace and happiness. Cases are occurring every day, in our large cities, in which the property and jewelry of the wife, and even the tokens of plighted love, are sqijandered at the gaming-table or in lotteries. In a report on Gambling, in New York, I 14 158 LBCTUKB3 TO tOUNG MEN. find the following instance cf a promising young man, who commenced his career ag a clerk in - a large mer- cantile house in Pearl-street : " After serving four years in that capacity, he com- menced business for himself, — married, and was rapidly acquiring a fortune, and was highly esteemed by a large circle of business and social acquaintances. A short time after he commenced business, he began to buy lottery- tickets,^ at first sparingly, but steadily increased in bold- ness and frequency, until he had lost ten thousand dollars, and closed his business a bankrupt. Not long after this. he receiv,ed a large sum of money bequeathed to him by a deceased relative ; but, despite his bitter experience, this, too, was lost among the lottery and policy dealers. He was now out of business and out of money ; but still the fatal hope of retrieving his fallen fortunes urged him to sacrifice still more, and so he expended all the money he could borrow ; then, his own and his wife's jewelry, and, lastly, his clothes even, were pledged for money to sati- ate his burning desire for play. At length, his wife and children were compelled to abandon him ; and, in the affliction, he implored a friend to give him a few dollars, that he might leave the city, Snd the hated hells where he had been ruined." A merchant in the same city contracted the habit of playing while young, and, finding the desire for gambling had become excessive and uncontrollable, he endeavored to free himself from its power. Per a while he kept away from gaming-rooms, and endeavored to find his happiness in the bosom of his family. But the fascihS'- ' GAMBLINa, WITH OTHER VICES. 159 tions of this vice were too strong for him ; and, although he saw that his course was destroying the health of his wife, and bringing distress upon his friends, yet he could not break the' chains by which he was bound. His good resolutions were but as, straws before.the mighty, rush- ing tide which swept over him. Nor did he stop in his career until she whom he had tenderly loved became a raving maniac. Such facts need no comments. They prove the ruin- ous influence of this vice, upon domestic peace. If, as we are told, the ancient Germans gambled away their wives and children, and their own liberties, how much better are these American gamblers, who stake "the hopes and happiness of their famihes, — everything, indeed, that is within their grasp 7 Had they the power which the ancients possessed, I have no doubt that we should hear of wives and children being staked upon the card- table by the infatuated and desperate gambler. A dis- tinguished writer, in speaking of the domestic evil of gambling, says : " Who can estimate it? "Who can speak of it in its fulness and its depth ? Who can, or who could wish to, if they could, draw, with a faithful hand, the lone home of the gamester, — the desolate family, the bleeding heart, the tears, the misery 1 Driven to the extremest verge of destitution, — nothing spared for Comfort or decTency, — all swallowed up in this absorbing frenzy ! Degrees there are in this misery, — yet how gloomy each, and how fearfully does the shadow of the future fall upon tte present ! Would the gamester unlock the springs of 160 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. ' hia heart that he haa pressed down as with . iron, woald he suffer memory and reflection to do their work, what pictures of his domestic life might they paint for him ! The first in the series should be one of calm bliss and joy. -Not a cloyd in the heaven, save those tinged and made beautiful by hope. The eyes of love looking out upon him, — the dependence of a trustful heart, leaning upon him, its all. Then the scene would change. " A tearful and deserted wife, — a sol)bing, pitying child, — keeping watch with the lone night-lamp, till the breaking of the morning. Again, and haggard misery would creep into the picture, adding the keenness of deprivation to the sting of grief; pressing heavily upon the bowed, crushed spirit of tha* wife ; mingling the drought of slighted, abused affection with the tears of starved and shivering childhood; piercing her ear, at once, with the moans for bread, and the curses of disap- pointed brutality. Once more, and there should be a GRAVE ! — a green and lowly grave, — where the faithful heart that loved him to the last should rest from all its pangs, and the child that he had slighted should sleep as cold and still as the bosom that once nourished it ; a grave ! where even the wide and distant heaven should be kinder than he,- smiling in sunshine and weeping in rain over those for whom he, in his mad career, never smiled or wept,- — whom he, in his reckless course, hur- ried thus early to their tomb." Gambling leads its victims to practise every species of, dishonesty. — Could the statistics on this point be known, and collected together, it would be found that GAMBLING, IVITII OTHER VICES. 161 our merchants, banks, insiirance offices, railroad and other stock companies, annually suffer losses from this source to the simount of millions of dollars. It is esti- mated that in New York " not less than five millions of dollars are annually won from fools and shallow knaves " by the blacklegs connected with the six thousand "hells" in that city. Now, where does this vast amount of money come from ? Is it the fruits of toil and industry on the part of those who squander it? Have they gained it by lawful trade, by commerce, manufactures, or by talent and skill displayed in the learned profes- sions 1 Men who gain wealth in either of these ways are not in the habit of risking it upon the turn of a card, or a throw of dice. If the truth were known, I believe it would be found that four-fifths of this amount was swindled, by frequenters of gambling-houses, out of the honest and industrious portion of the community. Owing to the difficulty of detecting those who practise these secret frauds, the public are not aware of the ex- tent of the evil. An association has been formed in New York for the purpose of guarding the business community against these swindlers, and suppressing gambling. A writer, in behalf of that association, makes the following statements : " A few illustrations here will be sufficient to show how little a portion of the business community now understand or appreciate this institution. Not long since I presented the claims of our association to a certain railroad company. But they could not see how they could possibly be benefited by its operations ; 14* 162 LECTURES TO TOUNGf MBH. but I knew that'^wo of their- conductora spent at least three nights in each week at the faro-tables in this city. " A wealthy mercantile house could manage their own affairs without my help ; but / knew that a man con- nected with them in business had already lost thirty thousand dollars at faro, and was one of the heaviest players in this city, of which fact they were entirely ignorant. " Another merchant was quite certain that we could be of no service to him, as he never played, and his clerks were all highly recommended before he employed them ; but I knew that his head book-keeper was losing from fifty dollars to one hundred dollars every night, and that his salary was not more than one thousand dollars a year. "The senior partner of another wealthy house was very hostile to gambling, but declined subscribing, on the ground that we could be of no possible service to him ; but I could have told him that his son, who was both partner -and book-keeper, was one of Heme's heaviest players and best customers. " Another firm hesitated about subscribing, but, when they did, found, to their astonishment, that some of their customers gambled, which at once accounted for their renewed notes, and fi-equent applications for increased accommodations . " If this institution had been commenced years ago, it might have saved the life and honor of Oliver Gr. Kane, who gaml)led away a large amount of the fands belong- GAMBLING, WITH OTHER VICES.' 163 ing to a Wall-street insurance company, of whicli he was secretary, and then committed suicide. " It would have prevented the loss of thousands to the Brooklyn Savings Bank, whose funds were lost at the faro-tables in this city by one of its officers. ' ' It would have prevented the late heavy defalcation of a New England railroad company's agent, who squandered thousands of their money among the gam- blers of Boston, Springfield and New York. "And, lastly, it might have saved Bullock, the late gambling cashier of the Central Railroad and Banking Company of Georgia, from the penitentiary, for stealing one hundred and three thousand dollars from that insti- tution, for which he has just been convicted." Now, these are but a few from a large class of facts bearing upon this point. Those who become addicted to gambling usually do not hesitate to steal from their employers, defraud the institutions with which they may be connected, commit forgery, squander estates or funds intrusted to them. Some commence with the intention of refunding what they have taken, out of what they may win at the gaming-table. But, so fearfully demoral- izing is this vice, that very soon all scruples of con- science are removed, and the individual only, aims at avoiding detection. If he can. but keep his frauds a secret in his own breast, he cares not at what sacrifice of moral principle he obtains the nieans of gratifying his burning desire for gambling. And so rapidly does this villany ripen, that the infatuated man will often- times resort to any measures, however base and mean, to 164 LECTURHfS TO YOUNG MEN. obtain money. He would rob even a cbarnel-house of its corpses, and put in his pocket money that was covered with the blood of 'his own children. While in New York, not long since, I visited the " Tombs," where I saw husbands and fathers who were imprisoned for forgery and other crimes committed to obtain money for gambling purposes. One well-dressed and intelli- gent looking man had fleeced his own family, and abandoned them to struggle alone in their poverty and wretchedness. Gambling leads to intemperance. — The intoxicating cup is usually resorted to by the gambler to sustain his spirits under losses, or to aid him in ensnaring the young and unwary. Many of the large gambling establishments are furnished with refreshment-rooms where rich suppers and costly wines are provided for invited guests, and for victims who have been secured for sacrifice. Here young men are induced, perhaps for the firsf time, to put the wine-cup to their lips. Being politely and cordially invited to sit down and partake of the delicacies before them, they think that there can be no ha.rm in' accepting such an invitation. It might seem absolutely rude to decline. The wines are recommended as mild, choice and harmless. After these preparatory steps are taken, and the youth has become somewhat excited, he is allured towards the gaming-table. He excuses himself from playing, on the ground that he is ignorant of the game. But his friend is ready to teach him, and he is easily persuaded to learn. A few more cups of wine enable GAMBLIXe, WITH OTHER VICES. 165 him to overcome hh scruples of conscience so far as to hazard small sums to give interest ta the game. He is allowed by his crafty destroyers to win. He returns home delighted with the game, with his companions, and with the generous treatment which he has received. The plot has succeeded. The appetite for strong drink and the spirit of gambling have been together aroused in his breast. He goes on from one step' to another, each vice stimulating the other, until he reaches the lowest stages of gambling and drunkenness. Multitudes, too, seek to drown their bitter disappoint- ments in the inebriating cup. Smarting under their severe losses, in a frenzy of despair they rush to this vice w'ith the hope of alleviating their wretchedness. They drink deeply of the fiery poison. But the rage and agony, instead of being diminished, are increased. The fierce passion for gambling burns now with ten-fold fury. The monster intemperance hurls back its victim to its kindred vice, to be sunk deeper in wretchedness, and to be returned agajn, that the ruin may be complete. Thus many, many poor wretches, with hearts heaving with tumultuous passions, with brains maddened with rage, with blood-shot eyes, with oaths and wild execrations upon their lips, are driven from one of these vices to the other, until soul and body are consumed. It was the boast of the infamous Crockford, of London, the keeper of a most destructive gambling-house, that " he ruined a nobleman every dayP May not the keepers of the gambhng-hells in New Orleans, New York, and must I add Boston, boast that they ruin some noble you :h, some 166 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. f on cf promise and hope, every day ? Alas ! could, the facts on this point but Ifi brought to, light, could the iniquity and horrors connected with this accursed sin be spread before the community, we should no more tolerate gambling than the lowest form of heathenism, )r the offering of human sacrifices to idols. But these dark dens of iniquity are explored but by few, and only those fully know the temptations, stratagems and cruel- ties, found there, who have experienced them. Most truly has the gaming-hall been denominated "a hell." It is a hell of fierce passions, of wrecked hopes, and a.gonizing tortures, — a hell where fiends congregate, and foul deeds are plotted and accomplished. Could the malice, rage, deceit, . remorse and despair, that are found within its walls, be embodied in tangible shapes, and their ghostly forms move about the table, and re- spond to the oaths and curses that fill the air, — could the spirits of departed victims return and utter their wild execrations against the villains who ensnared them, and the vice that brought upon them swift destruction, — could the groans of fstthers, the shrieks of distressed wives, and the cries of starving orphans, echo through the brilliant saloons, — would not the deluded gamesters be startled from their gayetie.s, and look with horror upon the spectral forms around them ? Would not the bloated inebriate, the hoary blasphemer, the keen swindler, the heartless, merciless iestroyer of the innocent, turn pale and tremble, in view of the' doom that awaited them 1 Ay, gambling-halls are, indeed, hells. Their keepers are monsters in human shape, who would take the last GAMBLING, WITH OTHER VICES. 167 drop of blood from their yictims, — who have been known to kick from their doors the unfortunate from whom no more money could be fleeced, — who hare absolutely left those by whom they have been enriched to perish by cold, or hunger, or suicide. There is not on the face of the earth a more hardened set of wretches into whose hands an unfortunate man could fall than these gamblers. Let one who had lost tens of thousands of dollars at their table go to them for a loaf of bread or the means to obtain a night's lodging, and he would, in most cases, be spurned from their presence. While he has money, he is flattered, caressed, feasted. But, let him lose all, and have no means to further gratify the lust of these men, and the very lips that flattered will curse him, the very hand that led him along in apparent friendship will smite him. The bland, smooth-tongued, genteel, fashionable companion, will turn into a monster-tyrant, who will crush him. 0, that the young men who are enticed to these halls by the fairest promises would remember this, — would remember that if they are unfortunate they can hope for no mercy ! The seducer may laugh at their scruples of conscience, mock at their religion, and pronounce such advice as this useless, such lecturing mere fanati- cism, — but let thern beware of the hypocrite ! The poison of asps is under his lips. The treachery and villany of a fiend are in his heart. Gambling leads to murder and suicide. Under this head we might present to you a long and dark catalogue of crimes. The instances are fearfully '168 LBCTUKBS TO YOUNG MEN. numerous, and many of tltem are attended -by tlie most aggravating circumstances. Mr. Green, the reformed gambler, mentions in detail, in his writings, numerous cases of murder and suicide which were caused by gam- bling. In 183i a difficulty occurred between two gam- blers in Huntsville, Alabama. After a few angry words had passed between them, one raised a chair to strike the other, when his antagonist drew a -pistol from his pocket and shot him, causing his death in a few hours. The murderer escaped being punished for the crime ; and~by his associates in iniquity was justified, and even • honored, for the deed. Subsequently, the same wretch shot two other men, and still was not made to suffer for his crimes. Another awful case occurred in Columbus, Missis- sippi. A father and son had become addicted to gam- bling, and often had serious difficulties with their opponents at the gaming-table. In several instances, they had barely escaped from the assassin. Being pres- ent, one day, at the races, they indulged in betting, and lost large sums of money. The son became greatly excited. A quarrel ensued between him and the propri- etor of the race-course, in which the latter stabbed him with a bowie-knife directly through the heart. He fell and died almost instantly, without a groan. His father, while gazing upon his lifeless form, was so overwhelmed with grief that he became quite frantic; but, soon remembering that his own situation was a perilous one, and that he might fall, by the side of his son, he became composed, and suppressed, as far as possible, his intense WITH OTHER VICES. 169 agony. In this, as in the other case, the event was allowed to pass unnoticed by the judicial authorities. Another heart-rending history is given of a family that resided in the parish of West Feliciana, Louisiana, in the years 1834-5 : "The family consisted of a widow lady and four children — two boys and two girls. These boys, from their good circumstances and comparatively unprotected condition, were marked out for prey by some of- the gambling fraternity, almost from their infancy. Their father left ample means for educating them as gentlemen,- and of supporting them in a genteel manner, with care, should they live to old age. They were not only born to affluence, but their natural endowments, both of person and of mind, were of the highest order. Many were the. snares that were soon laid for them by that base class of men called gamblers ; and, sad tg tell, their efforts were but too successful, as the sequel will show. Those who first beset them, in order to compass their ruin, thought that the most ready method to accomplish their object would be by means of those twin sisters, intemperance and debauchery. These young men soon became dissi- pated in their habits; and, ere they suspected any danger, they were almost inextricably entangled in the web which those unprincipled men had thrown around them. These two young men visited New Or- leans every winter to sell their crops of cotton; and, while there, they were always waited on by this vile class of men, without their ever dreaming that they were actu- ated by any other than friendly and honest motives." 15 170 LECTURES TO YOUNG MBST. It was not long before they were in'luced to visit gam bling-liouses and other infamous places, and were swin- dled out of all their income. They became themselves addicted to the vice, and gradually threw off the restrainte of home, and a due regard to their character and standing in society. Step by step they were led on, until one of them, in a drunken affray', committed murder. He was arrested, imprisoned, and condemned to die. The wid- owed mother and the sisters were thrown into the deep- ,est affliction hy the catastrophe. They used all the means in their power to obtain- his pardon; but in vain. The day before he was to have been executed he commit- ted suici4e in his prison. The terrible shock destroyed the health of one of the sisters, and in a few months she died. The surviving bro'ther, after passing through variojjs reverses, was shot down by an unknown enemy. Thus was the peace and happiness of "this entire family wrecked by those foul destroyers, who first enticed the sons to the gaming-room. Another most affecting case occurred in New Orleans the minute details of which cannot be read without excit ing the keenest sorrow, and the greatest indignatior against the infamous wretches who, under the garb of warm friendship, seek the destruction of the young. In this instance, the young man was an only son, ta] ented, promising, and of a confiding, affectionate disposi tion. His seducer was a man of wealth and fashion, and professed to take a deep^ interest in the youth, and to be anxious to promote ,his welfare. He had a pleasant address, was mild and courteous in Lis manner, — hut GAMBLING, WITH OTHER VICES. 171 within him was the spirit of a fiend. He explained to hrs young friend several games, and showed him how easy it was to win large sums of money. He introduced him to the society of ladies, whose apparent kindness, refinement and fascinating manners, awakened his interest, but whoso cooperation was employed to render his ruin the more certain. In this society the young -man spent many of his evenings, rode to the -races, and indulged in fashion- able amusements. Having become interesj;ed in gambling, he was induced to stake several small sums, and was allowed, at first, to win. He was greatly elated by his success, and his ^ skill was highly applauded. He was told that he would soon become a first-rate player. . Soon, however, the tide turned, and, the victim being now secure in the grasp of the arch deceiver, the work of ruin was prose- cuted with fearful rapidity. Thousands of dollars were lost in a single night. Deluded with the hope of recov- ering his money, he played on, until he was stripped of his last dollar. After having been fleeced of thirty thousand dollars, he staked his watch. This went from him almost in an instant. The reality of his situation began now to .flash upon him. He thought of his aged father and mother, of his home, of his early friends, of his own ruin. He sought relief from his destroyer, — but, the morning after . the last game, he fled from the city, leaving his victim to ponder alone over his wretch- edness. His feelings and purposes may be gathered from the following letter, addressed to his parents : 172 liECTUKES TO XOTJNa MEN. * , " ' New Okleans, March 7, 1836. " 'My Beloved Parents: You will doubtless feel a moment- ary joy at the reception of this letter from the child of your bosom, on whom you have lavished all the favors of your declin- ing years, and have loved with a parental ardor only to be felt, but never to be told by mortal tongue. ! should a feeling of joy for a moment spring up in your hearts when you shall have received this from me, cherish it not, — it is the deceptive calm which would allure the mariner to repose, while the hurri- cane, which follows in its path, shall come upon him in the plenitude of its fury, and hurl, with irresistible might, his frail bark to sudden destruction. ! my dear parents will forgive this language, which I doubt not will grate harshly upon a parent's ear ; but it is forcibly wrung from the lips of your erring son, whose mind is almost frantic by reason of events, unforeseen to me, which have had their fulfilment during my absence from home, and have rendered me the most miserable of mortals, and utterly ruined you. Early on my return to your mansion wa3 1 singled out by the destroyer as his victim, who, Judas-like, kissed as he betrayed, and hurled to destruction when he pre- tended to save. Had your parental admonitions been heeded at all times, and had due deference been given to your mature wis- dom and judgment, — had I the moral strength and virtue of a Paul, to bear up against-the seductions of the whole world, — I might have stood ; but I am one of the weakest of the weak, and have fallen deep ! deep ! — never more to rise ! 0, the unutter- ably keen and bitter remorse which preys with giant fury on my inmost soul, and fills my brain with madness at the thought of the wrong I have done you ! Those grayhairs, which I should have honored and protected, I shall bring with sorrow down to the grave. No kind hand will you have, in that home of anguish, to smooth and brush away the clouds which will rest upon your aged brows. All will desert you, and leave you to the tender mercies of the vile destroyer of our earthly happiness. Here, in this city of iniquity, has my ruin been accomplished. GAMBLING, WITH OTHER VICES. 173 I will not curse my 'destroyer ; but, 0, may God avenge the wrongs and imposition practised upon the unwary, in a way that shall best please Him ! lie whom I took for my best friend proved my enemy and destroyer. This, my beloved parents, is the last you will receive from me. I humbly pray your forgive- • ness of the evils I shall have brought upon you. It is my dying prayer. Never inore in this life Shall I see or hear from you. Long before you shall have received this letter from me, the cold grave will have closed upon me forever. Life is to rae insup- ■J)Ortable. I cannot, nay, I will not, survive the shame of having ruined you. Forget and forgive me, is the dying prayer of your unfortunate son.' " As soon as the old man had read this letter, he showed it to his wife ; and surely it were utterly vain to attempt to describe the feelings that must have agonized their aged bosoms. To think that their only child, who had always been one of the most affectionate and obedient of children, should have been hunted down lilje a fawn in the forest, and to think that this vile man should wateh, pursue and take him, as he would a lamb ! They could scarcely realize that such was the case,-^ that it could be their child, their only child, the expected solace and sup- port of their declining years, whom they had taken every care to preserve from the contaminating influence of vicious habits and associations ! It was only about nine months before the receipt of this distressing intelli- gence that he had received honorable testimonials of his mental acquirements, and of his being one of the most exemplary young men belonging to the institution in which his education was completed. And from that 15* 174 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. time his fiend-like destroyer Lad beten Launting him, and finally proved Ms ruin ! f '' A fe-ff days after this, the old geutleman went.to the post-office, with the hope of hearing something more in regard to his dear, unfortunate boy. He was much sur- prised at finding a letter directed to him, and post-marked New Orleans. He opened it ; and then it was that he learned, with unutt^able anguish, that his son was no more,— that he had committed suicide by blowing out his brains with a pistol. This letter was signed ' Ame- Ua.' She gave a strict and correct disclosure of all the facts, as she had a perfect knowledge of them. She stated that she had been to Texas some time ; that, on her return, she had made inquiry for young Mr. C, and ■ 4;hat they had told her that, some months before, he had blown out his brains in his chamber, and no one had any knowledge where he was from, or who he was. She asked forgiveness of his parents for the part she had taken in the destruction of their son, — for she acknowl- edged that she had been one of his destroyers. Upon the reception of this dreadful letter, the old parents hast- ened to take their leave of a place, the very sight of which filled and harrowed up their souls with the bit- terest recollections. They removed to some~small village not far from the city of New York, to spend their few remaining days, bowed down with decrepitude, indigence and sorrow,-^ yea, untold sorrow; while the despoiler and the heartless murderer of their beloved boy was rev- elling in his ill-gotten wealth, and plotting new schemes of infamous villany against his fellow-men." GAMBLING, WITH OTHER VICES. 175 These are but a few of the multitudes of instances that show the connection between gambling and the most aggravated forms of murder and suicide. Throughout the West and South there are at this moment the wrecks of families that have been ruined by this pernicious vice. And yet it is sustained and encouraged by men who occupy high positions in society, — men who are appointed Jo make our laws, administer justice, and protect the interests and promote the welfare of society. Even in those states where laws have been passed against gam- bling, it has been very difficult, and, in many cases, impossible, to execute them. In New York, for example, the police tolerate the evil, and the law against gambling, which went into force in August 1851, has effected but httle good. At first, a few establishments were closed; ■ but soon the gamblers were informed that they had noth- ing to fear from the police authorities. Indeed, one of the magistrates declared the law unconstitutional, and refused, for a time, to issue any warrants under it.* * The secretary of the New York Association for Suppressing Gam- bling says, on this point, in his last report, " The chief of police was, for a long time, ignorant of the provisions of the law ; and, when made acquainted with them, declared it to be no more his business to execute it than that of any other police officer, and declined to second our efforts in attempting to enforce a law which, by the oath of his office, he had sworn to obey and execute. Police captains, and the great body of the police, have stood aloof from the duty enjoiued on them by the law, and, in some instances, justified themselves by saying they had received no instructions from the chief to iiform against gamblers and policy venders ; consequently, many of the large gambling-houses and 'pjlicy-offioes reopened, and continue their 176 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. The apathy of the community, also, in respect to these enormous evils, is a most discouraging feature in the ■work of reform. While the benevolent are awake to the power of other . vices, while eloquent voices are heard warning the young against other great temptations, but little comparatively is said in regard to gamblhig. This monster is permitted, in many parts of our land, to carry on his work of ruin, with scarcely a hand raised in oppo- sition to it. Now, if the evils are so wide-spread and fearful as we have described, if such a;ffful crimes are the inevitable effects of indulging in this sin, the community ought to arouse, and resolve that, with God's help, they will destructiTe and demoralizing work Trith perfect impunity. The law in Connecticut against gaming is entirely worthless, although the legis- lature at its last session enacted a section no doubt intended as a step toward reform. In all parts of this state, as far as we have been able to learn, gambling has greatly increased ; the result, in no small degree, of the extensive sale of lottery tickets and policies, a thirst for dealing in which pervades all classes of society.* Well-authenticated facts establish the melancholy truth that church-members in good standing, and of undoubted piety, clandestinely purchase lottery- tickets, and that female factory operatives club together for the joint purchase of tickets, sending their small means, thus accumulated, to soBie dealer in Hartford, New Haven, or New York. Faro-banks are in constant operation in Hartford and New Haven, and in the latter city a billiard-saloon has recently been opened under the patronizing sanction of the Common Council ; so that, in connection with the pub- lic and private lottery-offices and gaming-rooms, {he young business, men of the city, and the students of good Old Yale, have now every facility offered them for planting within themselves the seeds of destruction." GAMBLING, WITH OTHEB VICES. 177 crush the monster, and save at least the rising genera- tion from its damning influence. The pulpit all over our country should speak- out upon the subject, and warn the youth under their care against indulging, in the least degree, in this sin. The press should spread before the community the appalling array of facts con- nected with the vice. The most stringent laws should be enacted and enforced. Police officers should be definitely instructed to execute the law in every case of violation that comes to their knowledge. Then, and not till then, will our families, sons, brothers and friends, be secure against the evils of this accursed vice. Finally, gambling destroys the soul. This is its last, great, fearful consequence. It breaks down the moral principles, obliterates every religious sentiment from the heart, deadens the conscience, and severs every tie that binds man to his Creator. It leaves . him without " hope, and without God in the world ; " a poor outcast from the sympathies and promises of Heaven, — a wanderer upon a bleak and desolate creation. He has no Sabbath, with its calm and holy enjoyments. He offers no prayers. He worships in no sanctuary. He heeds no voice of mercy. The laws of God have no power over him. No light from . Calvary dawns upon his path. No star of hope guides his foot- steps. He neither seeks the joys of heaven nor fears the woes of hell. The approach of death does not startle him. The darkness and silence of the grave do not terrify him. Listen to his oaths and curses, — his impious jests about Christ, the church, the resurrection, 178 LECTURES TO YOUNG MER. the judgment, eternity'. How his atheism breaks out in all his language, perrades his conduct and daily life ! Poor, insane man, maddened' by one desire, consumed by the fierce flames of one burning passion ! Can noth- ing turn him from his purpose? No, in most cases, nothing. Shall we go to him with warnings and en- treaties, — shall we portray before him the horrors of the pit into which he is sinking ? But he will treat you with contempt, and your message with scorn. Will not the dread realities of an eternal hell, the anticipated tor- tures of everlasting despair, move him 1 No, no ! . In the great majority of cases the command has gone forth, " He is joined to his idols, — let him alone." Let him alone, ye praying Christians ! Let him alone, ye min- isters of God, ye angels of mercy ! Thou Son of God, Redeemer of the world, thou Holy Spirit, sanctifier of the penitent, let him alone ! There remaineth for him nothing but a certain looking for of judgment and fiery indignation. Melancholy utterances are these ! WoTlld they were but utterances, — that they embodied only fears ! But, alas, the reality, the reality ! 0, God, save these young men from the snares of the gambler ! Save these fathers and mothers from the anguish of having gambling sons ! Bather than have a child of mine seduced by the flatteries and black treachery of these foul destroyers, I would see him struggling with death, — his eye sinking, his breast heaving, his heart throbbing — throbbing with its last pulsations. I would see with composure the cold GAMBLING, WITH OTHER VICEiS. 179 body laid in the coffin, the lid shut down, the black pall drawn over it. I would walk with a firm step to the new- made grave, and see the dear boy lowered down, and the cruel earth thrown in upon him. I would return thankful that he rests, — rests there, rather than lives to breathe the air of a gambling-hell, to mingle with gambling- fiends, to feel the damning influence of their oaths and curses, and to imbibe ;fcheir horrible principles ! 0, remember that when you sit dowli at the gaming- table you stake not simply your money, but your soul ! And " Whai shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world and lose his own soul ^ " IX. ^ THE HOUSE OF DEATH. " He knoweth not that the dead are there : and that her guests are m the depths of hell." — Peoverb3 9: 18. • The language of scripture in reference to the evil of licentiousness is remarkable for its precision, fulness and awful power. From the utterance of the seventh commandment upon Mount Sinai, amid thunderings, earthquakes, and the most impressive demonstrations of authority, down to the fearful declarations in the last chapter of the book of Revelation, the words of inspira- tion concerning this monstrous sin are full of intense and solemn meaning. The ancient judges boldly pronounced against it the sentence of condemnation. Prophets lifted up their warning voices, and denounced the guilty victims of the vice. Christ and his apostles inculcated purity of thought, as well as a life of outward virtue. There is no sin concerning which the laws of Heaven are more explicit, or against which heaviei woes are pronounced. The house of the strange woman THE HOUSE OF DEATH. 181 IS the house of death. The boaes of the slain are tlere. Many strong men have been cast down by her. " Her guests are in the depths of hell.." Kuined in body and soul, with every hope blasted, with every energy and virtue shattered as by lightning from heaven, they have'fallen into the lowest depths of the pit of woe. An evil so tremendous, and one against which .holy men have uttered so many awful warnings and terrible de- nunciations, cannot be passed over in silence, by the teachers of morality and religion, without their being recreant to duty. I am aware that not a few per- sons, who admit the extent and mournful consequences of this vice, doubt the expediency or utility of publicly discussing it. . Others, who are personally interested in throwing over it the veil of concealment, are loud in their outcries against the' exposure of its evils. At the least movement in the matter, they suddenly become the zealous defenders of the "public virtue, and of that re-" fined sensitiveness that they would, on no account, allow to be wounded, by the most distant allusion to the evils of this vice. A more successful device could hardly be framed by the great adversary, to perpetuate his power, than that of preserving an unbroken silence in regard to those giant evils, that are sapping the foundations of society, and breaking down the principles of right, purity and justice. It is the policy of the devil to keep the guardians of the public good quiet respecting them. Even though they are blighting the &irest prospects of mamkind, and 16 182 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. spreading desolation and death in every llirecticn, — oven though- their volcanic fires are raging and roaring be- neath our feet, and threatening to engulf the -wholo nation, — yet nothing must be said respecting the evil ! It will be allowed that the vice under consideration has been injudiciously treated. Presentations of its evils have been made calculated to increase rather than remedy them. But this by no means absolves us from obligations to discharge our duty, and to record in a proper manner our testimony against this soul-destroy- ing sin. While, however, we would not be silent upon the subject, we would, at the same time, respect and cordially commend that sensitiveness of .the pure in heart, that shrinks from the least taint of sin. We would use such language, and employ such arguments, as cannot offend the most fastidious, nor do violence to the delicacy of the most refined portion of the com- munity. In the first place, the enormity of this evil is seen in the fact that it is a direct violation of the commands of the Almighty. He who created man instituted laws for his govern- ment, in all the relations and duties of life. He made man a reasonable being, — that is, a creature of law, subject to authority, and capable of being influenced by motives, and a system of rewards and punishments. He has not left him, like the brute creation, to the blind instincts of his animal nature ; but he made him but a little lower than the angels, and crowned him with the glory of a divine likeness, and the honor of a free moral THE HOUSE OF DEATH. 18 they know not at what they stumble." This sin is, also, opposed to the Jbest welfare and dearest interests of society. The example of a licen- tious man is most potent for evil. His character is like a pestilence in the community. It is a moral leprosy, that infects others, impairs the health of the virtuous, invades the strength of the uncontaminated. Under the laws of social influence that bind together the members of a community, and cause their sentiments and lives to mingle and flow together, the power of one evil example is immense. Its corrupting influence extends from mind to mind, and heart to heart, until, like the sweeping con- flagration in a densely-crowded city, it lays waste a vast district, and prostrates in the dust the fairest and most costly edifices. Especially are the young and unwary ensnared by the foul destroyer. In the ardor of youth- ful confidence, with habits unformed, and principles swayed by the slightest breath of influence, they are easily taken captive. The poison enters their hearts almost before they are aware of its presence. And, in too many cases; the adversary of souls prepares the way for its reception. The impure thought has preceded the impure word, or look, or action. The soil has been 16* 186 LECTUKBS TO TOUNS MEN. prepared for the seed," and the noxious plant soon springs up ami attains to a fearful growth. A thousand influ- ences and agencies help to bring it to maturity ; and the fruit is ere long gathered, — fruit like the apples of Sodom, fair -to the eye, but ashes within. The doctrine that " one sinner destroy eth much good " IS emphatically applicable to this vice. For, the weak- aess of human nature, and the tendency of the mind to yield to temptation, rather than struggle against it, give to the destroyer a fearful advantage. He may start many a youth in a db^vnward career, and hurry him on with accelerated velocity towards the chambers of death. He may attack society a,t a thousand vulnerable points, and many a citadel that outwardly seems strong will yield to his arts and stratagems. Family after family will be sacrificed. Their dearest interests, bright.- est hopes, purest pleasures, will be utterly wasted. We speak of family afflictions, bereavements, reverses. But there is a blight worse than pecuniary misfortune ; there , is a. sorrow worse than death; there are reflections more bitter than those connected with funeral precessions and the open grave. The adulterer, who, with honied words and specious arguments, has accomplished his foul purpose, has wrought a more complete desolation for the once happy family than even the king of terrors could have done. He has laid waste hopes that would have survived any other calamity. The victim of his snares has fallen, never to rise again. Her name, once 'the pride and joy of the household, cannot now be mentioned by i5.nocent children, without a blush upon the cheek and THE HOU§E OF DEATH. 187 a par g that stoots through the heart. She who should have been an honor and protection to her offspring has clouded them with disgrace, and inflicted upon them a sorrow which cannot be healed. Her husband, too, shares in the anguish. His domes- tic bliss has been stabbed in the heart. The sanctuary of his warmest affections and purest joys has been ruth- lessly entered, and everything that rendered his home dear to his heart has been destroyed. Over its attrac- tions has fallen the gloom of a black, horrible night. The spot that shcruld have been the brightest to him on earth has become the darkest. That which should have lightened his burdens and soothed his sorrows has become the source of his greatest wretchedness. But there is another point at which society is assailed by this monster vice. There are miscreants abroad in the community whose profligacy is so intense, and whose villany has so completely prostrated every right prin- ciple and feeling, that the innocence, beauty and fairest prospects, of a lovely child, or an orphan daughter, are no barrier in their career of iniquity. With a winning address, and manners marked by an external refinement, — with expressions of the highest esteem and most honor- able feelings, — they gain the confidence of their victims, and use. their power for the accomplishment of the basest purposes. They cause her who had been an obedient child, a beloved daughter, a cherished sister, to " forsake the "guide of her youth and forget the covenant of her God." They lead her from the path of innocency and joy, into tne jroad road of pollution and wretch- 188 LECTURES TO TOTJN& MEN. edness. The family* circle, of •vrhich she was a bright ornameut, the seducer smites with a stroke more terrible than the lightning flash, more destructive than any that death might inflict. 0, if there be, in the world of lost spirits.,, one form of punishment more fearful and appalling than another, — if there are dungeons in God's great prison-house where his fiery indignation rages with peculiar intensity, — then most surely does that punishment and that' dungeon' await the coming of the corrupt wretch, who "has hurled the virtuous daughter from her proud eminence, blighted the hopes of a fond family, and plunged the dagger into the hearts of afiectionate parents. In the regions of despair the poisoned arrows of tormenting spi:fits will pierce him, the wild billows of a deep damnation will roll over him, the most furious tempests of divine wrath will heap upon him their terrors ! Those, also, who frequent the house -of death,, and mingle with their guilty inmates, are at war with the best interests of society. Though the veil of secrecy may be thrown over their deeds of wickedness, — though they may retain a respectable position in society, and be praised for their talents, or honored for their statesman- ship, or respected for their wealth, — yet they are the enemies of their country, and of social order and happi- ness. They unfit themselves for the discharge of the high moral and social duties that devolve upon them. They brutalize their nature, drag down and trample in the dust their self-respect, stifle conscience, and debase themselves to a grade below the brute creation. During THE HOUSE OF DEATH. 189 the day they mingle in fashionable circles, and with fas- tidious care, shrink from the society of those whom they proudly deem beneath the rank in which they more. At night they are the coiapanions of her whose "guests are in the depths of hell." They occupy a social position defined, certainly with sufficient precision, by the pen of Aspiration, in the following words : " Without are dogs, and , sorcerers, and whoremongers, and murderers, and idolaters, and whosoever loveth and maketh a lie." While they look with contempt upon men infinitely their superiors in virtue, honor, and every noble quality, at the same time they cast themselves down to a level,, according to the divine standard, with the lowest and most execrable outcasts. It is true that they may not have the crimes of the seducer to answer for. The victims of their lust may have been hurled by others into the deep mire of sin. But, though they are not the authors of their ruin, they, aid in perpetuating and increasing it. They sink them the deeper into the horrible pit into which they have fallen. They add to the wretchedness of an already wretched existence, to the hopeless doom of creatures who already see before them the clouds of de- spair. They sustain a system of iniquity which, if uni- versally adopted, would make every habitation a house of death, every inmate a foul transgressor, and society one mass of corruption, fit only for the terrible retribu- tions of a future state. Besides, in many cases, the unfortunate victim is not lost to all sense of happiness, and all remembrances of the past. Not unfrequently her history shows that she 190 LECTTJKBa TO YOTJNG MEN. early enjoyed the best advantages. She had once a home as pure, as bright, as safe, apparently, from the invasion of damning influences, as ours. She had a father who watched over her with parental affection ; a mother who pressed her infant form to her heart, and soothed her childhood sorrows ; a brother to lean upon, and sisters who cherished and loved her. The spring of, life opened amid beautiful flowers, fragrant blossoms, and scenes of gayety and innocent pleasure. The_mental powers developed amid refining and religious influences. The evening prayer was often uttered, and the treasures of scriptural knowledge were stored in the memory. The future was .bright with visions of domestic peace, honorable distinction, usefulness, and a long life of hap- piness. 'There may have been anticipations of the joys of a heavenly world, after a faithful discharge of duty in this. But into this paradise Satan entered as an angel of light. A fiend from hell, disguised in the robes of honor and purity, approached, and, by his fascinating arts and deep hypocrisy, prepared anothgr destiny for this child of hope and promise. All her fair prospects he blasted, and gave her, as her portion, (Jisgrace and infamy. Other fiends completed the work of ruin. Gradually hef heart was hardened. She offers no more prayers, indulges no more Christian hopes, but, with her guilty companions, walks the downward road to death. There are many other aspects of this melancholy sub- ject that reveal its appalling evils. The effects of the vice upon the profligate himself are fearfully disastrous. All vices, indeed, are injurious, and leave behind them a THE H0TJSJ3 OF DEATH. 19^ Bting. But this is peculiarly destructive to body and soul. It assails man at every point at wliich lie is vul- nerable. It breaks down his health, and plants in the system the seeds of disease and agony. It palsies the limbs, shatters the frame, and makes every bone, muscle and nerve, an avenue of pain. It weakens the reason, the judgment, and all the mental faculties. It prostrates the affections of the heart, and every noble feeling and aspiration of the soul. And .the ruin under the power of this vice is fearfully rapid. The victim is hurried down from one stage of pollution to another with accele- rated velocity. Allured on by the fascinating images of pleasure, dazzled by the gorgeous robes and brilliant jewels in which the temptation is arrayed, he soon loses sight of the high interests that pertain to his character, reputation and immortal destiiiy. His thoughts, feelings and desires, all centre upon one mighty passion. This holds him with a tyrant's grasp ; and, though in moments of reflection he may desire to escape and return to the paths of virtue, yet in most cases the chains are too strong to be broken. " None that go unto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life." This language we would not understand as meaning, literally, that every one who falls into the snares of this vice is cut off from all hope of escape. A few, convinced of the ■ peril of their position, or warned ly the horrible fate of others, may rush from the "house of death," and take "hold of the paths of life^" But the vast multitude wiio enter in do not return again. Their destiny is fixed. Their doom is sealed. Unfit for the purity and 192 LEOTUEES TO YOUNG MEN. refinement of virtuous society, they seek the company of the most debased and corrupt of the human species. They listen to the most revolting language; and obscene jests, and hold their nightly revellings amid scenes of shame and gross iniquity. Unfit for profitable medita- tion, they admit to the chambers of the ' soul the foulest creations of the fancy. The spectral forms of- pollution gather there, and lay their plots to secure new victims for the slaughter. Unfit to discharge the duties or feel the obligations of religion, they plunge into the black night of atheism. They bow before no deity, hsten to no voice of mercy, heed no threatenings of coming wrath. The Bible they hate, and trample beneath their infidel feet. They mock at everything holy, pure and good. The Saviour, his sufferings upon Calvary, his offers of par- don, the influences of the Holy Spirit, are all made the objects of ridicule and contempt. Living in the midst of gospel light, their souls are in darkness. Sur- rounded by the most exalted religious privileges, they debase themselves to *a level with the heathen world. Capable of soaring to companionship with angels, and dwelling with God amid the splendors and "joys of his celestial kingdom, they prepare to plunge into the yawn- ing gulf, and mingle in the society of fiends,, and experi- ence the horrors of unending despair. Behold the end, the miserable end, of the victim of this vice ! You do not find him now in the richly-furnished apartment, with its crimson grapery, costly ornaments, and brilliant attractions. No gay throng is near, with music, and dancing, and mirth. No wine-cup sparkles THD HOUSE OF DEATH. 193 Upon the tsMe. No bright visions of delight play before the fancy and intoxicate the brain. The scene has changed. The brilliant pictures have all faded. The deluded man has left the halls of gayety and pleasure, and entered another apartment in the " house of death." A fearful disease is preying upon his vitals. His emaci- ated form, bloodshot eyes, pale, agonized countenance, and convulsed frame, all tell the story of his guilt. At every breath a pang pierces his heart. Every word he utters is accompanied with a groan. His sufferings are more acute than any which tyrants and persecutors have ever inflicted, — more insupportable than even the tortures of the inquisition. His very bones are rotting, and through his veins are rushing streams of fire. Every nerve is an avenue through which excruciating pains travel directly to the heart." His soul, too, the most vital and sensitive part of his being, — how shall we describe its wretched condition ? Would that we could close the scene before going down into its dark recesses, before gazing upon its agonies. But it is not the death of the body alone that we are called to witness, but the death of a soul. The hopes and happiness of an immortal spirit ai'e dying out. Dark shadows are falling thick and fast over the spirit. Frightful forms of remorse are crowding into the cham- bers of the memory. They come from the past, — from scenes of wicked revelry which have been indulged in, from foul deeds which have been committed, from blas- phemous words which have been uttered. They come from different points in a long career of profligacy, a mighty throng of tormentors. They come to prepare, and 17 194 LECTURES TO TOTJNG MEN. participate in the funeral rites of a lost soul,- & soul that is to be buried without the hope of a resurrection. And the poor victim seems conscious of their presence. He reads his fearful doom. He startles at every sound as though he heard the thunders of divine wrath reverber- ating under the roof of his future prison-house. Every ray of light that enters his narrow casement seems a lightning-flash from the eye of an indignant God. He knows now that there is a terrible meaning in those utterances at which he has so often scofied. " She hath cast down many wounded I yea^ many strong men have been slain by ker. Her house is the way to hell, going down to the chambers of death. None that go unto her return again, neither take they hold of the paths of life.'" " I saw him enter in, and heard the door Behind them shut ; and in the dark, still night. When God's unsleeping eye alone can see, He went to her adulterous bed. At mom I looked and saw him not among the youths. I heard his father mourn, his mother weep ; For none returned that went with her. The dead Were in her house ; her guests in depths of heU ; She wove the winding sheet of souls, and laid Them in the urn of everlasting death." Allow me, before closing, to point out some of the causes which lead to this vice. In the first place, a corrupt imagination is a prolific source of this evil. The impure thought is admitted, which arouses the fancy, and leads it to indulge in THE HOUSE OE DEATH. 195 reveries of forbidden pleasure. It builds fairy castles, surrounding them with bowers of sensual delight, and ^peopling them with forms of beauty. It hangs upon the .rails voluptuous pictures, and scenes which excite the forst passions of the soul. Strains of music float hrough the gayly-decorated halls, and the strange ffoman is seen moving with grace and alluring charms imong her guests. To these apparently safe retreats :he thoughts often retire, and in- secrecy feast upon the dainties which the imagination has provided. No eye rests upon the scene, and no note of alarm disturbs the dreams that intoxicate the brain. But soon the poison enters the soul, corrupting its faculties and powers. The various currents of thought become tainted with impur- ity. Good principles are undermined, and the bulwarks of virtue are weakened. A taste for foiJbidden pleasures is created, which will not long be satisfied with mere images and reveries. The passions become clamorous for gratification, and, with giant strength, soon break through every restraint. Eeputation, the approbation of conscience, the favor of God, all in one fatal hour are sacrificed. The force of the imagination has broughj the mind up to that point where every barrier gives way, and the man plunges into the fearful vortex of open licentiousness. He who but yesterday stood ap- parently firm, with his name unsullied, his character above suspicion, to-day falls, exciting the astonishment and grief of the whole community. The flame within has been long secretly feJ, but to-day the volcanic fires 196 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. burst forth, carrying desolation and anguish in their course. 0, young man, if you would be safe from the curse of this vice, cultivate purity of thought ! Guard the citadel of your soul against these secl-et enemies. Re- solve that the powers of your imagination shall not be prostituted to a work so debasing and ruinous. These powers were given to lift the mind to the regions of holy thought, to inspire it with noble aspirations, to enable it to soar with angels amid the glories of the spiritual world. They were not designed to clothe temptation with alluring charms, and urge on the soul in a career of profligacy. Keep your heart pure, and you are invincible. You may walk amid the fiery darts of the adversary, and remain unharmed. Another pronMnent source of this evil, is the demoral- izing literature of the day. Upon this point we have spoken in a previous lecture. It is one, however, which cannot be too deeply impressed upon the minds of the young. These pernicious works, that are coming in upon us from the English and French schools, we should shrink from as from a pestilence. The writings of Reynolds, Eugene Sue, Mad. Dudevant, alias George Sand, Dumas, and others, are at this moment corrupting thousands of our youth, blasting their fairest prospects, and preparing them for a career of wretchedness and infaijny. The heroes whose principles and deeds are por- trayed in these works are selected from the lowest and worst classes in society. They are men and women steeped in crime, whose very nature is pollution, whose THE HOUSE OF DEATH. 197 breath is contagion, wliose lives and conversation are revolting to every pure and ingenuous mind. Should persons bearing the characters of many of these heroes desire access to our families, they would be at once shut out, on the ground of their corrupting influence- Their presence would not be tolerated for a single hour ; and yet, under the garb of a popular literature, they are admitted to circles which claim to be regarded as refined and intellectual, and they are spreading a deadly infection through various classes in society. Tha plagues of Egypt would not be a greater curse to our community than are these vile works. ' ' I am ashamed and outraged," says one, "when I think that wretches could be found to open these foreign seals, and let out their plagues upon us, — that any Satanic Pilgrim should voyage to France to dip from the Dead Sea of her abomi- nations a baptism for our sons. It were a mercy, to this, to import serpents from Africa, and pour them out on our prairies ; lions from Asia, and -free them in our forests ; lizards and scorpions from the Indies, and put them in our gardens. Men could slay these ; but those offspring-reptiles of the French mind, who can kill these? You might as well draw sword on a plague, or charge a malaria with a bayonet." This literature pervades our cities, circulates in stores, taverns, cars, steamboats, and is daily and nightly sowing the seeds of harvests of evil Parents,, guardians and teachers of the young, cannot be too much in earnest in warning those under their care against indulging in such peirnicious works. Another cause which leads the young astray is the 17* 198 LBCTUKES TO YOUNG MEN. influence of evil associates. . Many come to our cities without experience, often without friends, and are accidentally thrown into the society -of those 'who are familiar with the avenues of vice, and who are ready to entice others to accompany them in their career of profligacy. Craving themselves the sympathy and in- terest of social life, and longing for diversion after the cares and labors of the day, they imperceptibly imbibe the views and sentiments of their associates. At first , »they shrink from amusements that are positively demoral- izing ; but they are led.along step by step, until the sOul is corrupted, and evil habits are formed, from which it is almost impossible to break away. Let me urge you to shun the society of such com- panions. Their very presence is polluting to the soul. You may be attracted by their social and apparently generous qualities, and may bestow upon them your friendship and confidence ; but, ere you are aware of it, they may blast your character, and rob you of your most precious treasures. Let the first impure word or oath that they utter be the signal for you to withdraw from their society, and firmly resolve that you will never again be found within the sphere of their contaminating influence! There are other sources of danger that 'we would guard you against, such as intemperance, the theatre, public balls, and impure pictures, all of which are con- tributing to a vast extent to this terrible vice. They are so many currents, all flowiftg into this ocean of sin, and bearing upon their bosoms the unwary, the inexperi- THE HOUSE OF DEATH. 199 eL.ced, and the young man void of understanding. 0, resolve, as you value your happiness for this life, and your hopes for the future, — as you valu« the approba- tion of conscience and the favor of God, — that you will steel your hearts against this damning sin ! Gird your- selves for the great battle with temptation ! " Put on the whole armor of God, that ye may be able to stand against the w'iles of the devil. Stand, having your loins girt about with truth, and having on the breastplate of righteousness. - And take the helmet of salvation, and, the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God." Clad in this panoply, you are safe. Kghting with these weapons, you will come off as conquerors, apd forever rejoice over your lictories ! X. MODERN SCEPTICISM. " Without God in the world." — Ephesiabs 2:12, It has been the policy of the enemies of Christianity to adapt their mode of warfare to the changes which take place in society. In the earliest ages of the church they appeared openly as persecutors, and attempted to crush believers and destroy the truth by physical force. In- stead of arguments, they made use of dungeons, fagots and the sword. Instead of meeting their opponents upon the arena of fair debate, they gave them wild beasts foi' antagonists, and made their agonies and shrieks con- tribute to the public amusement. Gradually the opposition to the triith became less open • and daring, and secret measures, in inquisitorial halls and elsewhere, were adopted, to destroy the life of Chris- tianity. The attempt was m^ide to torture men out of their religion. Afterwards, infidel associations and clubs were formed, for the purpose of seeking out and assailing the most vulnerable points in the Scriptures. Sophistry, MODERN SCEPTICISM. 201 ■wit and sarcasm, were employed to bring the religion of the Bible into contempt. Faith was denounced as super- stition, and the realities of a future life were held up as the chimeras of an excited and perverted imagination. At a later period, infidelity allied itself to literature, and sought to, poison the minds of men through the streams of human knowledge. Fatal errors were associated with philosophical speculations, as in the writings of Spinoza and Bolingbroke ; with valuable historical facts, as in the writings of Gibbon and Hume ; and with the beauties of poetry and charms of romance, as in the writings of Voltaire. These, and other authors of a kindred spirit, aimed at the overthrow of all correct principles of reason- ing, and the es'tablishment of a system of universal scep- ticism. They labored to shut out the light of moral truth, to extinguish every star of hope, to sever the ties that bind man to his Creator, and leave him to swing out upon an ocean of darkness, uncertainty and despair. Some of these forms of hostility to the truth retain their power,, and exert a wide-spread influence at the present day. They hold in subjection a class of minds that are ready to grasp at any sophistical arguments, or any apparently well-grounded objection to the Bible, in order to quiet their consciences, and sustain them in their evil courses. But there are forms of scepticism which are peculiar to our times, and adapted to the refinement, intelligence, and even religious tend^cies, of the age. They come to us associated with much that is good and true, sustained by an array of sound learning, and the marks of a clear 202 LECTURES TO YOtJNG MEW. and prcfound discernment. They are often clothed with the beauties of style and illustration, and enforced with such eloquence as to take captive the heart. To some of the forms of this modern scepticism, and to their dangerous tendencies and fatal effects, I propose to direct your attention. Not a few of our scientific writers have, directly or indirectly, made use of their discoveries .and intellectual resources, to weaken the doctrines of revealed religion. Arguments drawn from the departments of modem astronomy and geology have been employed to invalidate the Mosaic account of the creation, weaken the inspira- tion of the sacred Scriptures, and render improbable the scheme of redemption for our race wrought out by the coequal Son of God. The extreme antiquity of our globe, as apparent from the formations and strata which must have required long ages for their preparation, .is referred to as evidence that Moses was unacquainted with title origin and history of the earth. It is argued, that there is a language in the -very rocks and strata of the earth, that does not correspond with the language that claims to have come by inspiration from God, — the objector forgetting, however, that the soundest principles of interpretation do not require us to take the word day, as used in the first chapter of Genesis, in its present lim- ited sense ; and forgetting, too, that the interval between the chaotic state of tb) globe and its final preparation as a residence for man, as described by the sacred writer, affords ample time — an indefinite number of ages, if you please — for all the processes and changes which the MODERN SCEPTICISM. 203 geologist claims. The fact that the word day is used to express a period of time before the sun was created, or, at least, before the arrangements were perfected that limited its use to twenty-four hours, is a sufiScient warrant to us to employ it with a latitude of meaning that will meet all the discoveries of the geologist, and, at the same time, sustain the Mosaic account of the creation. At the first discovery of any great truth in this cr any other science, that seems to conflict with revelation, the sceptic is ready enough to seize it, and rush with it into the temple of faith, boasting that now the friends of the Bible must yield up their claims, and submit to the superior light of science. But, in every such instance, a careful investigation of the question has shown to the can- did and hone^ inquirer after truth, that the teachings of nature harmonize perfectly with the truths of revelation, — that science elucidates and strengthens, rather than weakens, the great principles of the Scriptures. Nor can we resist the conviction urged upon us by the history of the past, that the day is not far distant when science will be an important auxiliary of religion, in obtaining con- quests over the thinking and cultivated portions of the community. When, too, the great discoveries in astronomy threw open the vast extent and grandeur of the universe, it was strenuously contended, that the Being who created and presided over so magnificent an empire could not reasonably be supposed to give so much attention to this comparatively minute province, as is implied in the syS' 204 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. tern of Christianity. The sceptic argued that the Su- preme Creator, with so much kingdom beside,-^ with millions of suns and worlds floating around him, all fiUiv"! with the manifestations of his infinite attributes, and fron which he must constantly receive a rich revenue of glory, — would not send his coequal Son to die for a single rebellious race, the entire loss of which would be no more missed than the falling of a leaf in a vast forest, or the removal of a single grain of sand from the sea- shore. But when the idea was brought to view, that God's ways and thoughts were not as ours, and that the extent of his empire, however great, did not necessarily _ lessen the interest which he felt in particular portions, — ■ that he could at the same moment watch over the revolu- tion of worlds and the fall of a sparrow, — the force of the sceptic's argument was at once destroyed. And not only so, but these discoveries in regard to the magnificence of the material universe served to increase the Christian's conceptions of the divine love, and of the wonders and glory of the scheme of redemption. The declaration, " God so loved the world that he gave his only-begotten Son," burst upon the mind with fresh volumes of mean- ing, when the fact wac made known that there. were so many millions of worlds that depended upon his bounty, and shared in his affectionate regard. But, while the intelligent Christian can perceive and appreciate the harmony that exists between science and religion, and can use the discoveries in the former as means of increasing his faith and stimulating his devo- tion, it is painful to observe to how great an extent scien- MODEKir SCEPTICISM. 205 tifio men pursue their researches under a cloud of- scepti- cism, and make use of their knowledge to weaken the force and destroy the influence of Christianity. In read- ing the writings of the illustrious Humboldt, it is sad tc observe, amid so many evidences of careful study and- extensive research, and so much accurate and valuable knowledge, such a destitution of religious sentiment and feeling. There is manifested the most assiduous care to avoid the recognition of a superintending and watchful Providence. T^'hile describing, in clear and forcible lan- guage, the works of the Creator, the great First Cause is apparently forgotten. The vast temple of nature, with its noble columns, beautiful proportions, splendid decora- tions, with its dome and towers, is vividly described, — but there is no worship within. We see no altar. We near no swelling organ, no note of praise. We behold no crowd about the gates. AH is silent without and cold ■within. The costly structure may excite the admiration of the intellect, but there is nothing here to touch the heart, or lift the affections towards a living, active, every- where present Deity. The sceptical philosopher may, indeed, frame an excuse for his course, on the ground that his attention is so intensely fixed upon the works of nature, and to so great an extent confined to experiment and observation in natural phenomena, that he is led imperceptibly to almost deify general principles, rather than recognize a personal God. Having formed the habit of basing his opinions upon ocular evidence, and reaching his con- clusions by trains of strict mathematical reasoning, he 18 206 LECTTJRBS TO YOUNG MEN. is unwilling to go beyond the bounds of sight, i.nd walk one step by faith. He contends that moral evidences, and analogical arguments do not carry with them suf- ficient authority, to convince his judgment and satisfy his reason. ■ In reply to such an excuse, we would aver that the faculties of the mind may be perverted, and sin incurred, as truly by an undue devotion to scientific researches, and to the laws of evidence which reign in the departmetits of human knowledge, as by yielding to the more ordinary forms of temptation, that lead away the mind from God. As moral and immortal beings, we are all held to the duty of knowing our relations and obligations to the Author of our existence. No excuse can be deemed, for a moment, admissible, that seeks to justify one in neglect- ing this duty, or in hesitating to acknowledge its. primary importance. There may be as much atheism connected with the highest scientific attainments and intellectual culture, as with an absorbing avarice, or ambition, or any master passion of the soul. There i^ another form of scepticism which is allied to philosophy and theology, and which comes to us mainly through the German rationalists and neologists. This form is peculiarly dangerous, because of the extent to which it has infected the German mind, and because it is connected with a class of scholars so eminent for their intellectual ability, -and superior attainments in the high- est branches of human knowledge. We are free to acknowledge our great obligations to Germany for what she has- done in philology, theology, exegesis, and church MODERN SCEl-XICISM. 207 history. During the last fifty years ■ she has thrown more light upon, these depaxtments of learning than all other civilized 'nations. The extensive and critical researches of Hermann, Lobeck, Passow, and others^ have enriched the language with the most abundant ma- terials in the department of. philology ; and our best grammars and dictionaries are translations from the Ger- man. With indefatigable labor and untiring zeal have these scholars searched the ancient records of church his- tory, and explored the fields and treasures of Grecian and Roman literature. And the fruits of their diligence, penetration and vigorous thinking, we, in common with other nations, have reaped. But, with this, influx of valuable German learning, there has come a flood of rationalism and scepticism, which has threatened to sweep away the foundations of the Christian faith. The very first principles of the religion of the Bible have been assailed. The correctness of the historical portions of the Scriptures has been called in question. The testimony and declarations of several of the sacred writers have been set aside, as unworthy of consideration. The evidences from miracles, and from other equally important sources, have been attacked ; and not a few German sceptics have prosecuted their researches into a remote antiquity with great zeal, in order to find arguments against portions of the Bible. They have not, indeed, like the deistical English writers who flourished in the early part of the last century, come out against the whole word of God, denying its authenticity and authority. Those who are termed rationalists admit that the sacred writers may be 208 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. honest and sincere men, and that the Bible may be an important source of religious instruction. But their object is to strip the book of everythiifg supernatural, and to account for its doctrines, facts and miracles, on natural grounds. They contend that its writers were no more inspired than other writers are under ordinary circumstances. Even the miracles of Christ and his apostles they attempt to explain away, denying that there was, in obedience to their commands or will, any suspension of the laws of nature. And, in cases where they cannot break down the facts in the sacred record, they assail and mutilate the text itself Under the broad shield of what they term "criticism," they twist and pervert the language of scripture to suit their pur- poses. But the admission of the rationalists that the Bible, after all, rested upon a substratum of real truth, was fatal to their theory, and disastrous to their perma- nent influence. Other forms of scepticism, however, have arisen in Germany, which for a time, at least, have not a little alarmed believers, and perplexed the defenders of the faith. Strauss' Life of Christ, which was an attempt to place the whole gospel on a level with the systems of heathen mythology, was one of the most bold and for- midable attacks that was ever made upon the citadel of Christianity. So plausible were his arguments, and so skilfully did he apply the mythical system to the evan- gelical history of our Saviour, that the friends of the truth at first deemed it necessary to suppress the book. But the wiser portion of German divines, regarding MODERN SCEPTICISM. 209 sucli a course as a virtual acknowledgment that the work was unanswerable, resolved to meet it on the broad field of argument, and open discussion. And it has been nobly met by many of the ablest German divines, and the conflict has resulted in adding strength and giving new vigor to the gospel scheme. But it is not my purpose to go into the history and extent of German scepticism ; for the subject is one that requires a full and thorough discussion, and to which a series of most carefully prepared lectures should be devoted. I simply allude to it at the present time, to warn you against its subtile and poisoning influence. In our coun- try we meet it in a portion of our popular literature, in some of our reviews, and in the lyceum lecture. Culti- vated minds of sceptical tendencies, both in England and America, have seized upon these pernicious doctrines, and have, in various ways, labored to diffiise them through the community. And when we consider how many .there are, even in refined and -intellectual circles, who are ready to adopt any plausible theories, that wijl release them from the obligations and duties which the stem principles of the gospel impose upon them, — when we call to mind the depravity of the human heart, and the fact that men love darkness rather than light, — we do not wonder at the spread of such errors. But scepticism, not content with employing the chan- nels of literature, and appealing to the intellect, abso- lutely goes .so far as to enlist the religious sentiments of the heart, and comes to us in a form of worship. It has its churches, music, audiences and preachers. It 18* 210 • LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. poisons the minds of the young through sermons. The pulpit being an acknowledged force in this enlightened and Christian age, it seizes the pulpdt, and thus reaches a class that could in no other -way be brought under its ruinous influence. In the popular discourse funda- mental doctrines of our faith are assailed, the inspiration of a portion of the Bible is denied, and the authority *of the ■whole is weakened. Use is made of the religious tendencies of man's nature, to lead him away from all religion into the dark regions of infidelity. Scepticism, professing to instruct him in matters vital to his eternal interests, gains his ear only to poison his soul. It takes his Sabbaths, and professes to enable him to keep them as holy to the Lord. It takes his conscience, and lulls it to rest. A worse thing scepticism could not do than to put on a form of worship. It is. as though Satan, not. content with the outer court of the temple, should enter and take possession of the holy of holies. It is an act of sacrilege, that deserves' unqualified censure. It is vir- tually seizing the purest desires and noblest aspirations of the heart, and making them avenues through which moral death is sent to the vitals of the soul. But scep- ticism waits not to consider the means for the accom- plishment of its ends. What it cannot gain openly, or upon the arena of fair discussion, it will seek to»gain by stratagemj or even through the spirit of devotion. Another phase of modern infidelity exists, which, for the want of a better name, we would denominate fanat- ical scepticism. There is a large and increasing class MODERN SCEPTICISM. 211 in the community, who, by giving their attention in- tensely and exclusively to a few specific evils, seem to be blinded to all others. Their minds become inflamed with a single object, and, in the heat of their enthusi- asm and madness, they rush on, trampling under foot the Bible, the Sabbath and all Christian institutions. Under the promptings of what they deem an ardent humanity, they cultivate a contempt for everything sacred, and feel that they are at liberty to sport with the most sacred themes, and tender religious associations. Their sympathy for the oppressed, the unfortunate and the guilty, becomes their religion ; and they act under the insane idea that the overthrow of Christianity, and the annihilation of the Bible, are necessary to the triumph of philanthropy. We are ready to allow that the dead- ness of a portion of the Christian church has tended to provoke this spirit. We allow that the ultraists at the other extreme of society, who have attempted to associ- ate a rigid orthodoxy with systems of oppression and vice, and to draw from the Bible arguments 'to sustain most wicked institutions, have had an influence in driving their opponents to the other extreme, and prompting them to attack the religious barriers behind which the support- ers of wrong and injustice have intrenched themselves. And both of these classes of ultraists — the one planted amid the icebergs of the most northern frozen regions, and the other sweltering under the heat of the equator — we would equally Condemn ; for high pretensions to a Bound religious faith, without a particle of humanity, ia 212 LECTPEES TO YOUNG MEN. as certairiLy productive of infidelity, as an earnest humanity vrithout a particle of religion. But no amount of hypocrisy, or practical infidelity, among modern Scribes and Pharisees, can justify any man in despising the great truths of the Scriptures, or treading under foot the gospel of the blessed God. Such a course is not only wicked, but it is suicidal ; for in (Christianity lies the only great reformatory power that ia making any sensible impression upon the masses of iniquity in the world. Here, and here alone^ do we find the moral forces that are adequate to the task of lifting man from the depths of degradation and crime, and of working society clear of its evils and miseries. The history of the last eighteen centuries afibrds abundant proof of this fact. We have seen that the gospel has been the pioneer in every great and permanent reform ; that in the track of the car of Chiastianity have followed the' highest forms of civilization, the benefits of educa- tion, free political institutions, and innumerable social blessings. While every other scheme has failed, this has proved successful wherever its principles have been adopted, and there has been genuine faith in the great master spirit of reform. I would not lessen, in the least degree, the hostility that is felt towards those giant evils that afflict society, and obstruct the progress of liberty,, virtue and civiliza- tion. But any measures that are allied to scepticism, and are prosecuted in opposition to the word of Ood and the gospel of his Son, are sure ^o come to naught. And this unholy alliance between infidelity and' philanthropy MODERN SCEPTICISM. 213 can be productive only of evil. Tbe philantLropy will be inoperative, while tbe scepticism carries with it im- mense power. The latter will spread, poisoning the minds of the young and blasting tbe immortal hopes of thousands, while the evils against which so much zeal is manifested will retain their full strength. Without, however, dwelling longer upon the various forms of modern scepticism, I pass to consider some of its direct effects. In the first place, it cuts off the mind from the great source of moral truth", and gives nothing substantial or satisfactory in return. While its advocates are laboring to demolish Christianity, and to convince men that its credibility cannot be relied upon, or that its doctrines are false, they propose no other system upon which they can rely. They tell us that our present anchorage ground is not safe, and that, we must cut our cables and swing out upon the ocean ; but they point out no other shelter from the storm ; they lead us to no other haven of peace, where our frail bark can ride in safety. If our charts axe false, theyLprovide no true ones upon which we can rely. If they prove that our pilot is incompetent, or that he is an impostor, they send to us no one who is able to take the helm and guide us through the perils of the voyage of life. Their work is done when they h^ve destroyed our faith, and left us to be tossed upon . the wild billows of a tempestuous ocean, — an ocean of fear- ful doubts, of dirkness, of deep despair. Upon every infidel bark is written, in glaring characters, the words, " Without God and without hope in the world." Upon 214 LBCTUEBS TO YOUNG MEK. the banner floatmg at -the mast-head is inscribed " No future life." Those on board are children without ,a father, — orphans upon a bleak and trackless waste. They are exiles, with no prospect of ever returning to their home. They are condemned subjects, without a Redeemer. No light from Calvary skirts their horizon. No divine voice calms the troubled waters, saying, "Peace, be still!" No Supreme Intelligence presides over the elements around them, or shapes their destiny. The midnight tempest, the lightning's flash, the thun- der's roar, all come by chance. Chance placed the stars in the heavens, and rounded the globe, and holds it in its orbit, and is the supreme force of the universe ! What a substitute is this for faith in a living Deity, for con- fidence in an omnipotent and benevolent Father ! 0, if there -be but a possibility of the truth of Chris- tianity, I would cling to that possibility. If but one evidence, external or internal, from miracles or prophecy, or the records or monuments of antiquity, escape the devastating fire of the enemy,- and emerge unharmed from the smoke of the battle-field, I would seize with^ death-grasp that evidence, and retain it while thought Or consciousness remained. For everything that I see around, above, and beneath me, tells me that there is a God. Every whisper of my conscience reVeals this truth. I listen to the stars, and they declare his glory. Each morning's sunlight comes to me as a fresh revela- tion from his throne. I read his existence in the passing cloud, in the waving forests, in the sparkling waves, in the beautiful flower, and in the music of birds. I feel MODERN SCEPTICISM. 215 too tlie pressure ofhisgovemment. A sense of obliga- tion, of duties to be performed, of a solemn mission to be accomplished, is ever present with me. I hear, too, voices that tell me that I am immortal. Mysterious thoughts, as though from the spirit -world, hover around me. Faint glimpses of light, as though from bright far- off regions, flash across my pathway. Dim angel forms seem to beckon me ou ; and, in the quiet of deep medita- tion, I hear a voice as though from the Supreme Father, ' bidding me prepare for eternity. Can all this be delu- sion 1 Say, sceptics, does no light from Calvary pene- trate the darkness of the tomb ? Is the Bible a fable, Christianity a superstition, and Jesus an impostor? Every word in favor of such a supposition is a stab into the dearest hopes and immortal interests of mankind. Every new sceptical argument is another crown of thorns, another spear. From every infidel heart there goes forth the sentiment, if not the cry, "Away with him, — let him be crucified ! " Another effect of this scepticism is that it tends to undermine all morality. It necessarily shuts off all the motives to virtue and holiness that come from the future life, and a future state of rewards and punishments. Whatever influences are brought to bear upon the infidel mind, to restrain it from vice and bind it to virtue, are those which this world alone furnishes. And if, in any given instance, the temptation- to -violate the principles of integrity or -virtue is strong, and the consequences to reputation or any worldly interest are of slight account, there is nothing to hold the mind from breaking over the 216 LECTURES TO TOtTNG MEN. bounds (rf morality. It ia neither inspired by a hope of future rewards, nor terrified by the fear of future pun- ishment. It recognizes no divine moral government, no obligations to a Supreme Euler, and consequently is under the dominion of self-interest, expediency, reason or passion, as the one or the oth^ may happen to gain the ascendency. A man thus confined to the narrow circle of motives Just around him, and incapable of being influenced by the remonstrances of a guilty conscience or by feelings -of remorse, may be left to the cotu- mission of the greatest crimes ; and may gradually so harden himself as not to feel the force of any moral con- siderations, or be actuated by g,ny noble principles of conduct. And this infidelity, extending from the individual and spreading over society, inevitably saps T;he foundation of morality, good order, and social happiness. Unbridled passions take the place of reason and conscience. The tender and generous sentiments of the soul become faat obliterated, and all that is valuable, pure and noble, withers- under the blasting influence of this evil. A nation pervaded by the spirit of scepticism is liable at any moment to see even the forms of morality crumble to ashes, the ties that bind together the community sundered, and the restraints of virtue, justice and hu- manity, thrown aside. It is liable at any moment to be visited by those fearful calamities, that must sooner or later burst forth from the universal prevalence of such an evil. As the hidden gases and fires of the earth, after long confinement, struggle to escape from their prison, MODERN SCEPTICISM. 217 and break forth, rending the continents, and lighting up the volcanoes, whose streams of death pour down upon the adjacent cities and villages, so does this evil burst its barriers, "and pour forth its streams of moral death. The modern history of infidel France affords a melan- choly illustration of this truth. For many years pre- vious to 1789, scepticism had been insidiously working its way through all classes in society. It went upward, corrupting the circles of fashion, the institutions of learn- ing, the courts of princes ; and downward, spreading its pernicious influence through the cottages of the peas- antry. It pervaded the church; or, rather, the papal church was, to a great extent, its source. The glaring inconsistencies and gross immoralities of the professed disciples of Jesus, their spirit of relentless persecution, and their rejection of the vital principles of the gospel, brought all religion into contempt, and forced infidelity upon the French people. And, in 1789, after the deep under-swell had been long rocking society, the fearful storm burst upon the nation. Atheism was enthroned dictator by the suffrages of the people. The temples of religion were closed. Public worship was abolished. Faith was discarded, hope annihilated, and death declared to be an eternal sleep. All social ties were sundered. Mutual confidence was destroyed. The industry of the nation was palsied at its very heart. The reign of athe- ism became a reign of terror. Property, virtue, life, were all subject to the will of this iron despot. Homes were invaded, families were torn asunder, and the streets were red with the blood of thousands of victims. 19 218. LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. y Sajs a writer, speaking of these times : "Tliea pro- scription followed upon proscription, and tragedy followed tragedy, in almost breatUess succession, on the theatre of France; almost the whole nation was converted into a horde of assassins. Democracy and atheism, hand in hand, desolated the country, and converted it into one vast field of rapine and blood. The moral and social ties were unloosed, or, rather, torn adunder. For a man to accuse his own father, was declared to be an act worthy of a true republican, while to refuse thus to accuse him was a crime punishable with death. Accordingly, women denounced their husbands, and mothers, their sons, as bad citizens and traitors ; while many women — not of the class of the common people, nor of infamous charac- ters, but respectable in reputation and appearance — seized, with savage ferocity, the mangled limbs of their murdered countrymen. It appeared, for a season, as if the knell of the whole nation was tolled, and the world was summoned to its execution and its funeral ! " During the short reign of infidelity in France, more than three millions of her best citizens were destroyed, — ■ and most of them were put to death under the most aggravating and cruel circumstances. It appears as though their murderers had taxed their ingenuity to devise new and unthought-of means of torture. Some were mangled, and left to perish in the street. Others were roasted alive in the presence of their relatives and friends. Multitudes were drowned; and many others were shot and slain by the sword. A- writer, in relating the scenes that occurred On one Sabbath day, says: MODERN SCEPTICISM. 21S t " Those wlio led the unhappy sufferers to execution were ordered no longer to confine themselves to those whose names were on the list of proscription, but were allowed to take to t"he guillotine whom they pleased. The words nobleman, priest, or even honest man, were BO many terms for proscription and death. Three times was the place of the guillotine changed, and at every place holes were dug in the earth to receive the blood, — and yet it ran in the gutters ! The executioners were tired out, yet the deputies were enraged to see the work go on so slowly. Accordingly, the massacre began en masse. The prisoners were led out, from one to two hundred at a time, into the outskirts of the city, where they were fired upon or stabbed. . Two hundred and sixty-nine persons were taken indiscriminately, among all classes and ages, led out to Brotteiaux, and there tied to trees. In this situation they were fired upon with grape-shot. Many of the unfortunate wretches would have only their limbs byoken by the artillery, and then would be despatched with the sword, or with muskets. The greatest part of the bodies were thrown into the Rhone, — some of them before they were quite dgad ! " And, from that hour to the present, France has expe- rienced the blasting influence of her scepticism. All her revolutions, and her struggles for political freedom, have been abortive, for the want of a substratum of morality upon which the nation could rest. Her refinement, scientific eminence, wealth, and military strength, have not been able to make up for the absence of virtue and a pure religious faith. 220 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. Finally, infidelity destroys the soul. Under wliateTer » form it is admitted to the heart, — whether in connec- tion with science, or adorned with the beauties of litera- ture, or asi^ociated with German erudition and criticism, — it is equally fatal to the soul. It is a poison that touches and destroys the vitals of our moral being. In the hour of death, — that hour of honesty and truth, — what comfort or consolation does infidelity afford? Who, at such a time, reflects with satisfaction upon a life spent in effort to destroy Christianity and promote infidelity ; and what is that religion worth that deserts a man at such a trying moment? " The grave, — dread thing ! Men shiver when thou art named. Nature, appalled. Shakes off her wonted firmness. 0, how dark Thy long-extended realms and rueful wastes, Where naught but silence reigns, and night, dark night ! " Go to the infidel's death-bed, .and see what philosophy and scepticism can do for the soul when it is about to launch into eternity ! Mr. Hobbes, a distinguished infi- del,' when he found death approaching, was filled with distress and terror. He could not endure the thought of appearing in the presence of his Maker ; and, while standing upon the verge of hell, he said, " I am about to take a leap in the dark," and then died in the deepest despair. The honorable Francis Newport, a young man of an amiable disposition and splendid talents, was induced, through the influenca of evil associates, to embrace infi- MODERN SCEPrrCISM. 221 ^ delity, and to despise and ridicule tlie religion of Christ. But, wiien the terrors of death were upon him, his agony was insupportable. On one occasion, looking towards the fire, he exclaimed, " that I was to lie- and broil upon that fire for a hundred thousand years, to purchase the favor of God, and be reconciled to him again ! But it is a fruitless, vain wish. Millions of millions of years will bring me no nearer to the end of my tortures than one poor hour ! 0, eternity ! eternity ! who can prop- erly paraphrase the words for ever and ever? " And thus, alive to all the horrors of his -situation, he left the world, and entered that miserable abode "where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched." Hume, the most celebrated of modern infidels, and one whose strength of mind, it would seem, would be suffi- cient (were the thing possible) to sustain him to the last, — even Hume could derive no comfort from his infidelity in a dying hour. He endeavored to divert his mind, and quiet his conscience, by jesting about the river Styx, and old Charon with his leaky boat, and by treating the sub- ject of death in a light and trifling manner. But all his efibrts to dissipate his fears were unavailing. "It is true," said the nurse who attended him, "when his friends were about him he would try to be cheerful ; but, when he was alone, the scene was quite difierent. Such was the agitation of his mind that he would make the whole bed under him shake. He would not allow the candles to be put out in the night, neither would he be left alone a single moment. He struggled hard to ap- pear composed ; but his disturbed sleep and still more 19* 222 LECTURES TO YOTTNd MEN. disturbed wakenings, his involuntary, breathings of re- morse and frightful startings, showed that all was not right within. This continued and increased, until he became insensible." Gibbon, the distinguished historian, acknowledged on his death-bed that " All is now lost, finally, irrecover- ably lost," Tom Paine completed his book justifying suicide, and then died with all the horrors of perdition upon- him. At times, it appeared as though he had reached 'the world of despair, ?ind was suffering the agonies of the second death. One moment he would be cursing God, and the next shrieking for mercy, and calling upon the Lord to help him. The wicked and licentious Rousseau, in his last moments, addressed the Almighty in the following blas- phemous language : " Eternal Being ! the soul that I am going to give thee back is as pure at this moment as it was when it proceeded from thee ! Render it a par- taker of thy felicity ! " And then he entered eternity, with this most awful lie upon his lips. 0, infidelity ! what havoc hast thou made with immor- tal souls ! What multitudes hast thou abandoned in a' dying hour, and left to make shipwreck of their hopes upon the shores of a miserable eternity ! 0, my young friends, let me warn you to- beware of the snares of this evil ! Go not within the sphere of its influence, lest, in an unguarded moment, the poison enter your souls, and blast all your hopes for eternity. Make the Bible your guide. Open your hearts to the influence of its blessed MODERN SCEPTICISM. 223 truths. Let its soul-stirring motives and glorious hopes cheer you onward in your pilgrimage. Let its light dis- sipate the shadows that gather about life's pathway, and render the dark valley of death a glorious avenue to the celestial city ! XI. PRmCIPLES OF TRADE. '* Providing for honest things, not only in the sight of the Lord, but also in the sight of men." — 2 Coeinthiabs 8 : 21. The design of trade is not simply to enable one to make money. It has a higher end, namely, the develop- ment and culture of moral principles. The commerce of the world is a vast arena for the display of honesty and integrity, — for the formation of a good character, as well as the accumulation of a fortune. Providence might have bestowed property upon man, without sub- jecting him to the toil and perplexities of business. He might have given the poor man bread, without exposing him to the fatigue of daily labor, and compelling him to obtain it by the sweat of his brow. But, in both ca^es, the high moral and disciplinary purposes of trade and labor would fail of being accomplished. This labor is necessary to aid the Supreme Ruler in keeping the race bx subjection, and to work off those forces that might otherwise be expended in projecting and executing plans of evil. Trade, also, is necessary to the cultivation of PRINCIPLES OF TRADE. 225 habits of industry, and the virtues of integrity, faithful- ness and veracity. Besides, it is true that, where these principles do not to a greater or less extent exist, there can be no trade or commerce. Among barbarous communities, where dis- honesty, treachery and lying prevail, there can be no general system of traffic. A man cannot trade with his neighbor except to a very limited and unimportant ex- tent. The principle of mutual confidence, that under- lies all extensive and prosperous commercial enterprises, is wanting. From the very nature, therefore, of commer- cial transactions, it is obvious that they must be per- meated by the principles of a sound morality. Their very existence depends upon it. A fraudulent, deceitful, or dishonest course, is a suicidal course. It assails the foundation principles upon which the fabric of commerce rests ; and, if universally pursued, would put an end to trade, and reduce civilized nations to a state of barbarism. The vast extent, too, of the trade of the world, — the daily increasing facilities for communicating between different nations, and for transporting the products of every .clime- and soil from one port to another, — -the growing power of the mercantile community, the con- nection between the interests of commerce and our civil and social institutions, and the various streams of influ ence, for good or evil, that flow from intercourse with foreign nations, give to the principles which we pro- pose to discuss an immense importance. The question whether our tradesmen and merchants shall conduct their business upon the principles of Christian morahty. 226 LBCTUhES TO YOUNG' MEN. — whether the mighty agencies and forces of commerce shall contribute to the advancement of humanity, free- dom, and an elevated and pure civilization, — is. a ques- tion of solemn moment, and one in -which every young man who is about to eiiter upon the business of life is deeply interested. In enforcing the injunction of the text, I propose to speak of the nature of true honesty, and then point out some of the causes of dishonesty, — the modes of practis- ing fraud, and the effects of the slightest deviations from the principles of Christian morality. The honesty which is real, and reliable, must be ac- ceptable in the ^ight of God, as well as in the sight of men. It must spring from a conscientious regard to the r.equisitions of the divine, law, and the claims of Chris- tianity. There is a great deal of honesty in the world that has its source in mere selfishness. Men are honest while they can thereby promote their worldly interests, secure customers, and increase" their reputation. The principle with such persons is a matter of cold calcula- tion, and purely selfish interest. It is not anchored amid those fundamental truths of right, justice, and inflexible rectitude, that lie at the basis 'of a sound character. Hence it has not force adequate to withstand! the influ- ence of adverse currents, and the storms of conamercial revulsion. It will answer in calm and sunshine, and in Beasons of prosperity. But, let the individual be under the pressure of some serious financial difficulties, or b§ tempted by some great advantages or gains which may be secretly grasped, with but little risk of exposure, oa- PRINCIPLES OF TKADB. 227 loss of character, and his morality readily yiel Is to the temptation. The supremacy of the selfish principle is sit once made manifest, and the man proves that he is ready to sacrifice integrity, truth and justice, whenever his interests seem to require it. A character pure and upright in the sight of heaven is a minor consideration, with him, compared -with the accumulation of property. Now, the honesty for which we contend is that which is vitalized by the spirit of Christianity ; which is based upon divine principles ; which is held in its place by motives drawn from eternity, and by the consciousness that an omniscient eye is every day inspecting the character, and noticing the minutest transactions. This principle of honesty, unhke the other, will hold its pos- sessor to the path of duty, in all the varied circumstances of prosperity or misfortune which may surround him. It will resolutely resist the 'strongest temptations to swerve in the least degree from the line of strict recti- tude. It will spurn the offer of the greatest gains, which must be purchased at the smallest sacrifice of moral principle. Such a man esteems the wealth of charac- ter a higher and nobler possession than the gold and silver of the world. He may meet with loss after loss in his business, his vessels may be wrecked, and the fire consume his dwelling and his property; but ho clings to his integrity, resolved that no calamities shall touch this treasure. The world may, indeed, pronounce him foolish, and. destitute of business tact and skill, for never allowing his principles to bend in trying emergencies, or when large profits may be obtained by a 228 • LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. little chicanery ; but his honesty is a part of his being. It is a constituent element of his spiritual nature, and he is wise enough to know that it will not profit him, should he gain the whole world and lose his soul. His eye is fixed upon the glitter of the wealth of far-off regions, — is attracted by the splendors of mansions and palaces that no fire can consume, no enemies destroy. He heeds not the sneers of the world, or the contempt of those who. measure one's reputation by the amount of his property, if he can but secure the approbation of -Him whose favor- is life, and who has at his disposal the wealth and the honors of the universe. He can afford to lose his money, and to have his ships wrecked, if he can but make a successful voyage when his spirit swings from its moorings here, and launches forth upon the ocean of eternity. Nor can we press too strongly the necessity of this high Christian honesty in those who profess to be gov- erned by the precepts of the Bible. If in any class we have reason to expect a stern integrity, and a full exemplification of the principles which we have been considering, it is in i;Jiose who present themselves to the world as patterns of virtue^ and who profess to be under the highest code of morals that has been given to man- kind. They, of all men, should deal justly, and let the light of their example shine in the shop and the count- ing-room, as well as in the conference-meeting and the church. It is not enough that they are strict in the obsprvance of the outward forms of religion, — that they keep the Sabbath, serve on committees for benevolent PRINCIPLES OF TRADE 229 objects, and occasionally contribute to a charitable object. A Christian is bound to carry with him to the exchange the same principles and feelings that he takes to the prayer-meeting. His intercourse with merchants and customers should be regulated by the same maxims that control his relations to his Christian brethren. His theology has as much to do with his day-book and ledger, as with his creed and articles of faith. He may care- fully watch the views of his minister, _ and zealously, guard the orthodoxy of his church ; but he should re- member that he is himself, in his daily life, " a living epistle, known and read of all men." And, if others read the word "fraud" upon any of his transactions, or "falsehood" upon any of his statements, his example- preaching will neither recommend his religion, nor strengthen the principles" that lie at the basis of trade and commerce. It is a lamentable thing when infidelity gets into a pulpit ; but is it not also disastrous to the cause of vital religion, when practical infidelity gets intc the counting-room or the exchange 7 It needs no argu- ment from me to prove, that a man cannot have one set of rules for the regulation of his religious concerns, and another for the management of his daily business. He cannot take one course or track on the Sabbath, and then on Monday morning be switched off to another track, that leads through the regions of deceit and dis- honesty. The Great Master has told us, " Ye cannot serve God and Mammon." Ye cannot have two supreme objects of pursuit. Either the piety of the Sabbath will purify the transactions and business of the week, or the 20 230 ' LECTUEES TO YOUNG MEN. frauds of the week will turn tlie worsliip and dtvotion ot the Sabbath into hypocrisy. While, however, there are instances to which these remarks are applicable, we rejoice to know that there are in this city multitudes of Christian merchants, who, in their daily business, exemplify the principles of strict honesty and unwavering integrity, — who allow their religion to govern them in the minutest transactions, and the light of whose example shines upon every pathway and relation of life. Such men do not try the vain experiment of serving God and Mammon, but, under the guidance of , high moral principle, whatsoever they do is done for the glory of God. Their lives are religion in action. They are as conscientious in making bargains as in offering prayer. They find in the marts of- busi- ness as real fields for usefulness as in the great charita- ble enterprises of the day. It was a noble statement made by a distinguished mercantile firm in a city of New York, when efforts were made to break down their credit, and crush their humanity, that their goods, and not their principles, were for sale. They wished, in- deed, to save their business ; but, whatever might come, they nobly resolved to save their principles ! But I pass from the consideration of the principle of honesty, to notice some of the causes of its violation. And first, the intense desire for wealth pushes many over the boundary lines of rigid honesty. The great respect that is paid in this country to a man's pos- sessions, rather, than his character and talents, — the boundless . resources of the land, and the fact that &e PRINCIPLES OF TRADE. * 231 prizes of wealth, under our free institutions and systems of general education, are open to all, — tend to inflame the desire to be rich. The .young are early brought to feel the power of these influences ; and not a few are stimulated, by the example and teachings of their parents, to fasten their attention and affections upon wealth, as the supreme object of pursuit. They are taught to think that to liv^ in fine hou^s and luxurious apartments, to support a splendid equipage, give costly and brilliant entertainments, and have the reputation of being wealthy, is the great end of man's existence on earth. Their education is adapted to this one object. Instead of hav- ing their minds enlarged by a general culture and varied literary attainments, which would qualify them for high and noble achievements, as well as open sources of men- tal pleasures, their faculties are trained simply with reference to skill and success in money-making. The whole work of education is confined to this narrow chan- nel ; and any little rills of knowledge, that may happen to flow in, are made tributary to this one supreme object. The youth commences his studies with the multiplication table, spends years upon his arithmetic, and finishes by learning book-keeping, — and comes out little else than a good business machine. The conversation, too, which he hears, is mainly upon the prices of stocks, the rise or fall of real estate, the condition of the flour or cotton markets. He is led to feel that the moneyed interests of the country are its most important and vital interests ; that the prosperity of trade is of more moment than the Dublie virtue; that cotton is of more account than 232 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. humanity, and stocks are of higher worth than even the blessings of religion. Hence the yonth enters updn the business of life with ihe idea fastened upon hiip, that, the greatest calamity which he has to dread is not making money. He may have other advantages, — health, friends, opportunities for mental culture and moral advancement, and even a competency, — but he must be rich. He must amass a fortune, or life will be a blank, and the great purpose of his being will be defeated. And, under the pressure of this ruling desire, if an honest course does not bring him large profits, or if he cannot compete with his neigh- bors in skill, industry or enterprise, he is induced to enter the regions of dishonesty. Pursuing with eager- ness the brilliant phantom before him, he follows it across the line that divides right and wrong. At first, he goes but a few steps beyond the boundary, fi)r fear of detection. But, gradually finding that his petty frauds are successful, he is emboldened to wander further and further-, until his moral principles are utterly shattered, and the whole force of his mind is employed in devising ways in which to cheat his fellow-men secretly and safely. He may, indeed, grow rich in worldly goods ; but every day he is growing poor in character. He may accumulate dollars in the bank ; but he is at the same time losing principles from his soul. His credit may be good with the business community ; but, in the eye of ■ Heaven, he is rapidly sinking his fortunes, and becoming a moral bankrupt. He may sit in his nchly-fumishod drawing-rooa, and be ranked among the wealthy, while, PamCIPLES OF TRADE. 233 in the estimation of God, he is a pauper, — he is poor, naked, destitute, and in want of all things that contribute to real worth or happiness. Another cause of dishonesty is extravagance. Many who have no wealth desire to appear to be rich. They ape the manners of the affluent, spend money freely in dress, furniture, convivial parties, and aspire to the highest ranks of fashion. They assume a condescending air towards their less showy, but richer and infinitely more worthy neighbors; and, by a display of gaudy ornaments, and the glitter of richly-furnished apartments, and a vanity that is utterly contemptible in the eyes of all sensible men^ they lay claim to the respect and hom- age of the community. Their creditors they put ofi" by false promises, as long as possible. But, when the force of their deceptions is absolutely exhausted, and they have employed all the arts and plausible excuses at their com- mand, in borrowing from one friend and another, to meet the most pressing demands, they are brought to the point of either abandoning their foolish, butterfly course of life, or obtaining the means of keeping up their gayety by defrauding their creditors. The idea of having the truth known that they are poor, and that all this blus- tering .pomposity, and show of wealth, have no other foundation than their excessive vanity, and intense love of fashionable life, is indeed torturing to their minds. The horrors of the inquisition could hardly appall them more. For, not to be fashionable, is, in their estimation, to be wretched. To be out of the circles of wealth and vanity, is equivalent to being out of the world. The 20* 234 LECTURES TO TOUNe MEN. question,, therefore, is, between high life and a system of dishonesty to sustain it, or their pl-oper level witLinteg-. rity and honesty. Nor is the frivolous devotee of fashion long in deciding it. The temptation, on the one hand, js so strong, and his moral principles and his intellect, on the other, so weakj that he soon yields, and adds Avicked-. ness to his folly. Henceforth, his business' is to traiEc. away his principles to gain the means of sustaining . his extravagance. His ingenuity is taxed to carry forward, his stratagems without being discovered, and to prosecute his fraudulent schemes without rendering himself liable to the law. And, by his tact, subterfuges, and consum- mate impudence, victim -after victim falls within his grasp ; and, while the honest and industrious laborer is deprived .of bread by his villanies, he lives in luxury,, his family appearing in society in costly dresses and rich jewelry, and his whole establishment supported by those with whom he is too proud to associate, but whom he is wicked enough to defraud. His character may, indeed, be suspected; but his fashionable companions regard with pity, rather than censure, his frauds, and consider his courtesy, warmth and liberality, as making amends for the want of integrity. Speculation is, also, a prolific source of dishonesty. Men, in their haste to be rich, will risk their own prop- erty, and that of others, in enterprises the results of which cannot be fijreseen by any human sagacity, nor determined by any laws that govern the ordinary course of trade. Not content with small profits, or unwilling, to abide the issue of persevering toil and- industry, they PRINCIPLES OF TRADE. 235 boldly launch forth upon seas whose waters have never been traversed by any experienced navigator, whose shoals, quicksands and rocks, are laid down upon no chart, and where the probabilities of suffering shipwreck are far greater than of making a successful voyage. The speculator is unwilling to look at the hazards of his course, — unwilling to allow the chances that are against him to enter into his calculations and influence his judg- ment. But, magnifying every circumstance that can favor his object, and allured by the bright hopes of suc- cess, he plunges into the wildest schemes, and deludes himself with the belief that his gains are certain, and that he will win by one bold' measure what has cost others years of toil and industry. His vision is dazzled by the brilliant prospects that open before him. The air is filled with fairy castles, with scenes of luxurious ease and exhaustless Avealth. He cares not for ordinary gains, and will scarcely look at the rewards of continued toil and industry, for he already imagines himself in pos- session of a fortune. He walks amid enchanted grounds, and over the whole landscape he sees nothing but the sunshine of- pros;^erity. But in one fatal hour the scene suddenly changes. All that was bright and beautiful fades away, and the darkness of a long, bitter night gathers about his soul. Instead of being a man of for- tune, poverty stares him in the face. Instead of anxiety as to how he shall invest his funds, he must look about bim for the bare means of subsistence. And in such a fall all good principles are shattered. The revulsion of the feelings is so great and sudden that it tears away 236 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. integrity, and every virtue of the soul. THe man, in his desperation, resolves to obtain by fraud that which for- tune will not confer upon him. With the same insa- tiable desire for wealth, and with the honest avenues to it apparently closed against him, he rushes into the regions of dishonesty, and plunges into enterprises in which he stakes his conscience, and hopes for immor- tality. I would next point out some of the modes in which dishonesty is practised. In the first place, a man may live a dishonest life by engaging in a business that is detrimental to society, — that injures the public health or morals. He may not indulge in commercial speculation, nor be extravagant, nor desire to make a display in the world. He may punctually meet all his engagements, pay his debts, never violate his word, and yet his business may be a direct fraud upon the community. The articles in which he traffics may do more injury than all the disastrous speculations and instances of distressing bankruptcy and swindling operations that have ever occurred. Take, for example, the dealer in rum, gin, brandy, and other intox- icating drinks. How is it possible to sustain the morahty of this business on any principles of Christianity or sound ethics 1 Here is a department of trade that is the direct and prolific source of poverty, crime,' misery, vice, disease and death, — that fills our almshouses with pau- pers, our jails with criminals, our insane asylums with maniacs, and plunges thousands of families in indescrib- able wretchedness. It is a traffic that is at war with the PRINCIPLES OF TRADE. ^ 237 best interests of society ; that, as far as it has influence, takes away a man's health and strength, and leaves him weak and diseased; takes away his humane feelings, and makes him a wild beast ; 'takes away his religion, and makes him a scofl[ing atheist ; takes away his . manhood, and leaves him to wallow in filth ; takes away his. hopes for another life, and sends him to hell. It is a traffic that destroys men's freedom, and reduces them to an ignominious slavery ; that takes away their civilization, and plunges them into the lowest state of barbarism. Such a business is, in its very elements and essence, a system of dishonesty. It robs, by its tempting- power, the industrious of their hard earn- ings. It prepares the incendiary for his. cruel mid- night work. It produces suicides by the hundreds every year. It commits murder, and then sends the murderer to the gallows. All the preaching and praying in the city of Bbston cannot stay the pro- gress of the tide of immorality that flows from this traffic. All the benevolence here cannot meet the wants of' the poverty which it occasions. All the phy- sicians cannot heal the diseases which it produces. Should every bank in State-street fail to-morrow, or every note be protested, or your shipping be consumed by fire, Boston would not be damaged so much as it is now damaged by the rum traffic. For these calamities might happen, and yet leave the puWic health and morals unimpaired. The whole city might burn up, without sending one soul to hell. But this traffic burns up godlike intellects, of infinitely more value than your 238 - EBCTURES TO YOUNG MEN. houses and shipping and merchandise^ It makes men bankrupts in character, and in all that renders existence valuable. It makes drunkards, whom the Bible declares shall not enter "the kingdom of heayen. Nor will it be many years before the dishonesty of this traffic will be seen in its true light, and the business will be classed with the slave-trade, and other villanies. But in departments of trade that are lawful and useful to society, the principles of a Christian morality are too often violated. When on» fails to meet his pecuniary engagements while abundantly able to pay, or makes promises to a creditor. which he has no reasonable expect- ation that he can fulfil, or obtains money by means or representations that are in the 'least degree false or deceptive, he- is guilty of dishonesty. The merchant is bound, in all his business transactions, and in all the varied circumstances into which he is thrown, to do unto others as he would have them do unto him. Under the guidance of this law, he can never go astray. But, without this principle, he is liable to fall into, practices, to increase his gains, which will not bear a rigid scrutiny. He may contract the habit of misrepresenting the quali- ties and cost of his goods, and thus impose upon his cus- tomers articles for moire than their real value. He may take advantage of the ignorance or pecuniary embarrass- ments of gome of his customers, and deal with them on different principles from those which govern him in his transactions with persons equal in shrewdness and in- formation with himself. And he may justify himself on the giround' that the buyer is bound tc look out for his PKINCIPLBS OF TRADE. 239 own interests ; that, if he does not make a good bargain, it is his own fault! But in such an excuse he is neither sustained by the principles of Christianity nor by the common law. The law holds the seller responsible for any misrepresentations that he has made, or any means he has adopted by which the purchaser has .been de,- ceived. Nay, it goes further, and declares that to con- ceal defects in an article, or to divert the buyer's attention from them, is fraudulent. If one sell a piece of goods knowing that it has a serious defect, which, if pointed out to the buyer, would prevent him from purchasing, and which lessens the value of the article, the sale is a fraudulent one. If a merchant sells a ship as sound in which there are rotten timbers or imperfect fastenings, or if he overrates her capacity or sailing qualities, or in any way deceives the purchaser, he is guilty of fraud. The deception may be communicated by words, or by actions, or by not stating the whole truth, — but the nature of the transaction is the same. Of course, one is not required to give to another all the advantages of his knowledge of the markets, and his sagacity in foreseeing the changes that are likely to take place in trade, or in the demand or supply of goods. While selling his ship, he may have good reasons for believing that the prices of freights will in a few months go down very low, and materially affect the value of his vessel ; but his views on this point he is not obliged to communicate to the purchaser, for the latter has the same opportunities for forming an opinion upon this mat- ter that the seller has. The particular point which we 240 LEGTTJKES TO YOUNG MEN. ■wish to guard againgt, is the practice of deception in any -vyay. For it reveals the spirit of dishonesty, and is condemned alike by the common law and the principles of Christian morality. When the merchant, too, endeavors to undervalue, what he is buying, and magnifies what he is selling, he 'deviates from the rules of strict honesty. The opinion that he expresses of the quality of the article or piece of goods at the time of buying, he is bound to abide by when .he sells the same. If the -article is cloth, it has not suddenly improved in quality, and in fineness of tex- 'ture, by simply being in his possession. If it was coarse when he bought it, it will be coarse when he sells it, notwithstanding his assertions to the contrary. There is, also, a great deal of fraud practised by adul- terating articles of food, and particularly by adulterating liquors. Some of the basest compounds are sold under the names of wine, brandy, &c., that the ingenuity of - human wickedness is capable of producing. As though alcohol itself was not a sufficiently violent poison, it is mixed with deadly drugs, and the vile liquor is distrib- uted through the community and sold as a beverage. Thousands of casks are prepared every year, and thus an infamous fraud is practised upon the army of drunkards and moderate drinkers throughout the country. ^ Their health, reason and lives, are destroyed much sooner than they would be under the ordinary processes of intoxication. The word dishonesty is too mild a word to represent this business. It contains all the ele- ments of knavery. It is a stupendous system of PRINCIPLES OF TKADB. 241 cold-blooded murder. Just look at it for ai moment. Here are men deliberately engaged in preparing these liquors, containing the- most violent and deadly poisons * that are known to the chemist. They sell them under the title of choice wines, or imported brandy, knowing that they will speedily underniine the health, destroy the liveSj and ruin the souls, of those who drink them. The ' slave-trader can do no more with his victims, than these men do with those who fall into their grasp. The un- holy inquisitor cannot invent more exquisite tortures for his unfortunate victims, than these men invent for the poor drunkard, whom they lash to the rack of delirium * tremens, and pass through the horrors of one dark dun- geon after another, in his passage to an ignominious and hopeless grave. Such a system of gigantic and destructive fraud should not be tolerated in an enlightened community for a single day. The manufacturers and vendors of these adulter- ated liquors should be indicted for wholesale murder. * Dr. Trail mentions the foUoiring as in common use : " Essential oils, oooulus Indious, logwood, Brazil wood, alum, green vitriol, oil of vitriol, capsicum, opium, tobacco, aloes, bitter oranges, henbane, nux vomica, sugar of lead, oil of bitter almonds, India berry, pokeberries.. elderberries, poison hemlock, Guinea pepper, laurel water, prussic acid, dragon's blood, lamb's blood, gum benzoin, red sanders, burnt sugar, salt of tartar, and so on. Here are some of the most deadly vegetable and mineral agents in the world, with which nearly all the liquors, vrines, ales and beers in the world, and often cider, are drugged and adulterated. A late work on chemistry enumerates forty-six articles commonly used in making beer alone ; and almost every species of the light and sweet wines, such as ladie sometimes think delectable, is extensively adulterated." 21 242 LECTURES TO YOUN-a . MEN. At least, a committee of chemists should be appointed to examine, every week, the contents of grog-shops, just as we have committees to examine, at stated periods, steam- boilers, and report on their condition and safety. In- deed, I should prefer to be blown up by the latter, rather than to be cursed by the contents of the former. Still another way in which men are dishonest is, by taking advantage of the technicalities or imperfections of the law, to avoid the payment of. just debts. So various are the devices whip h cunning and wicked men employ to defraud others, and so ingenious are they in framing •expedients to retain their unjust gains, that no human laws can follow them through the windings and labyrinths of their dishonest courses. When closely pursued by their creditors, they will seek shelter under some limita- tion or exception of the law, or hide away in some dark corner, where the officers of justice cannot re^ch them. They will display their skill in violating every principle of Christianity and every law of God, while they avoid breaking the law of man. This species of dishonesty js as contemptible as it is wicked. It reveals a character steeped in the very essence of selfishness, — a character devoid of all honorable feeling, and debased by the low- est motives and most sordid desires. It shows that the man is influenced by no sense of justice or right ; — t^t neither the precepts, promises or threatenings of the Bible, have any weight with him ; that his conscience is dead, and that, were the restraints of human law removed, he would practise every species of fraud, anA plunge into the wildest' excesses of dishonesty. PRINCIPLES OF TRAt)B. 243 And this principle of action, if universally adopted, ■would destroy all confidence between man and man, dry up the sources of trade, and break down the commerce of the world. Our ships would rot at the wharves. Warehouses would be closed. The marts of business would be deserted. The wheels of industry would be stopped. Civilization would go backwards. All humane feelings would die out of the hearts of men, and society would be a lawless banditti, preying upon each other, and devoted to schemes of robbery and its kindred vices. ^he bankrupt law, "which was designed as a relief to the honest debtor, has been, in many instances, grossly abused. As a means of freeing one from the entangle- ments and embarrassments of debts, and enabling him to start anew in business, it has been highly beneficial. But, to suppose that it takes away any moral obligatipns to pay debts when we have the ability, is absurd. For no human statute can annul or alter the great principles of right and justice. A bankrupt, after having plungea many industrious and worthy families into poverty, may be highly prospered, and be abundantly able to restore to his creditors the property which he had been the means of taking from them. Under such circumstances, there cannot be a doubt as to his duty to make full restitution to those whom he has injured. The fact that he is not legally bound does not aiFect in the least degree the jus- tice of the case. God's laws are not framed with limita- tions and exceptions to meet the exigences of trade, and the statutes of human legislators. They are above all earthly courts, and are based. upon eternal principles. 244 LEaTURES TO YOUNG MEN. "which are universal in their application to the conduct and affiiirs of men. Besides, erery honorable and gen- erous feeling should prompt one to render unto all their just dues ; and, if such a course lessens the merchant's property, it ivill increase his integrity, and vastly aug- ment his happiness. The Creator did not design man to be simply a money-making machine. He did not give us eyes with which to see nothing but gold, and ears to ' hear nothing but the prices of stocks and the changes in the money-market. He did not give us intellect and skill to be employed in " grinding the faces of the poor," in defrauding " the hireling of his wages." Man was made for a higher destiny and nobler achievements, and he should see to it that he does not sacrifice his man- hood, and debase that soul upon which the divine image has been stamped. There are yet other modes of practising dishonesty, upon which our limits will not allow us to dwell, — such as putting one's property out of the reach of creditors by a fraudulent conveyance, defrauding the national revenue by smuggling or false invoices, resorting to the modern system of repudiation, by individuals or states, when debts have become large and burdensome. In these, and many other ways, the principles of a sound morality are violated. We cannot too strongly censure the course pufsued F7 several states in our Union, in repudiating their just debts. A measure more disastrous to the public integrity could not be adopted. It virtually teaches that the claims of truth and justice may be dis- PRINCIPLES OB TEADB. 245 regarded, that solemn contraqts may be broken, and apparently gives a national sanction to dishonesty. Let us now consider some of the effects of violating the principle inculcated in our text. And, first, petty frauds, and what are deemed slight deviations from the line of strict rectitude, as really stain the soul with guilt as more open and flagrant acts of dishonesty. For they reveal the want of moral principle in the soul, as truly as more startling and extensive frauds. 'It is not necessary for a man to cheat on a large scale, or be a defaulter to a great amount, or carry on enormous swiudling operations, in order to prove his destitution of rigid principle. Let him but display his want of veracity in little things, — let him indulge, day after day, in slight misrepresentations concerning his goods, or while making his contracts, — and he furnishes as conclu- sive evidence of his dishonesty as the extensive swindler or defaulter. He shows' that he is ready to commit greater frauds, whenever he can thereby promote his self- interest, or secure great gains without damage to his credit or reputation. Having once crossed the line of dishonesty, he is held by no principle from wandering over the whole field of knavery, and practising the most flagrant wrongs. Our Saviour has declared that "he' 'that is unjust in the least is unjust also in much." The principle in both cases is the same. Circumstances may modify its developments, and, while one class of persons are carrying on stupendous frauds, that convulse, when discovered, the mercantile community, and impair the public credit, others, in the daily routine of petty dis- 21* 2^6 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. Honesties, are accumulating an amount of guilt that finally will crush the soul. While the one may be com- pared to the sudden ocean-tempest that shatters in an hour the frail bark, the frauds of the other are like the huge piles that the minute shell-fish rear in the midst of the ocean, and against which, ■while unconscious of dan- ger, the ship strikes and is wrecked. The smallest deviations from rectitude also blunt the moral sensibilities, and impair the power of conscience. They destroy that nice sense of right and wrong which is essential to a virtuous and manly character, and which gives tone to the moral faculties. He whose sensibilities are in active and healthful exercise would be disturbed, if, to the extent of a farthing, he had wrongfully obtained possession of that which belonged to another; and he would feel that no gains, however great, no advantages, however desirable, would be any compensation for the detriment that the character deceives, from the commis- sion of such an act. The question, whether the deception or fraud was known to the community, or whether^it was influencing the opinion that men entertain of him, would be a minor question. It would be sufficient for him to know that God was a witness of the deed ; and he would give himself no peace until the evil was rectified, or the wrong redressed. FinaWy, a career of dishonesty is ruinous to one's spiritual interests. It is not simply by atheistical doc- trines, or infidel sentiments, or blasphemous words, that a man wrongs his soul. He may be unexceptionable in his external deportment, may never speak disrespectfully I'RINCIPLES OF TRADE. g4'i of religion, may utter no profane words, may be, even, a regular attendant upon the public means of grace, and yet in his business transactions he may pursue a course utterly destructive to vital godliness and Christian hopes. He may escape the censure of the .world, and pass through life with an unsullied reputation, and yet be totally imfit to stand before Heaven's tribunal, where the secrets of all hearts will be revealed, and the great Judge "will render to every man according to bis deeds." XII. tse duties of employers. " ■Whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report ; if there be any virtue, and if there be apy praise, think on these things." — Philippiams 4 : 8. • There are moral duties inseparably connected with every position and relation of human life. Not only in the family, the church and the social circle, but in every business contract, in- every arrangement by which the services of one class in the community are secured by another, there are moral obligations binding upon us to promote the welfare and happiness of bur fellow-men. If I engage a laborer to work for me for a single day, and my acquaintance and dealings with him are limited to this brief period, I am bound not only to give him just wages, but to treat him with kindness, and to pro- mote in every reasonable way his comfort ,and moral welfare. If he haa virtues, integrity, industry and religious principle., I am bound to respect those virtues, and to strengthen them. For we are children of the THE DUTIES OF EMPLOYERS. 249 same fitter, members of one common brotterhood, .and fellow-travellers to the same spirit-world. He who created us "hath made of one blood all nations of men to dwell upon the face of the earth." If Providence has seen fit to confer upon me any advantages of a social, intellectual or moral character, higher than those pos- sessed by the day-laborer, my- obligations to servo Him are proportionably increased. The great ■ Master whose servants we all are will hold me accountable for the manner in which I discharge the moral duties that ■ I owe to this man. The principle involved in this illustration, as will be readily seen, is applicable to all the relations sustained between employers and the employed. And, when we consider the vast extent of these relations, running, as they do, through the various branches of trade and commerce, through the mercantile, manufacturing and mechanical interests of community. We cannot but feel the importance of having the public mind thoroughly imbued with right views upon this subject. It is too common among merchants, and, I may add, among manufacturers and master-mechanics, to regard those in their employ simply in relation to their own pecuniary interests, and to think that their whole duty is done when they have paid them just wages, and thus fulfilled the terms of their contract. If they are only faithfully served, — if the clerk is successful in selling goods or bringing in custom, or the apprentice is indus- trious and skilful at his trade, — they are content, and think little of the manner in which the youth passes his 250 LtCTTJRES TO YOUNG MEN. leisure hours, or what influences are gathering about him and afiecting his intellectual and moral interests. -There are, indeed, honorable exceptions to this remark ; but I am speaking of the great mass of those who conduct the commerce, trade and manufactures, of the world. We have too much reason to fear that there is not among them a feeling of deep responsibility, in reference to the moral condition of those unden their care, and in their employ. Though their very position brings with it a guardianship which should be, at all times, kindly and faithfully exercised ; though these moral duties may be scrupulously performed, without infringing in the least degree upon the time and energies required in the daily business of the store or shop; and -though the opportu- nities afforded by a constant intercourse for making salutary impressions are most abundant,— yet there is a sad and fearful neglect of these duties. In many cases, even if strict honesty and a rigid integrity are insisted upon, they are viewed in their market value, rather than in their bearing upon the character and well-being of the individual. And some — we hope the number is small — are satisfied if this honesty and integrity are exercised towards themselves; and their clerks deviate from these . principles only to increase the pecuniary gains of the establishment. But; if the clerk or appren- tice is allowed or taught- to sacrifice the truth, or violate the principle of honesty, to increase the profits of his employer, that employer need not be surprised if his teachings come back upon himself, and he is made to reap some of the fruits (5f the fraudulent principle which THE DUTIES OF EMPLOYEES. 251 has been practised upon others. If a false principle is implanted in. the mind, it is not so easy to regulate the application of that principle, and, in the end, it may prove the source of more loss than profift In every respect, therefore. It is to the employers' advantage to attend to the moral culture of those cornmitted to their care, — to see to it that they walk in the path of strict rectitude, — to show that the interest which they feel goes beyond the mere services which they receive, or the amount of labor which is performed. In specifying some of the moral duties which mer- chants and mechanics owe to those in their employ, I would say, in the'first place, that they should give them their cordial sympathy. They should feel and mani- fest an interest in their character, habits, and success in life. The youth, on coming, for the first time, to a large city to dwell ameng strangers, feels most keenly the absence of those home influences and kind attentions, by which he has heretofore been surrounded. He at once perceives that he is in a different atmosphere from that to which he has been accustomed, — that he is, in fact, in a different world of feeling and action. Having been nur- tured amid warm affections, ana possessing a generous and confiding disposition, he is not prepared to meet the new aspects of human nature which open before him. He feels the chill of- the world's selfishness,— ^ a chill that often sends the warm blood of a generous nature back to the heart. The business of the world strikes him, at first, as an iron, graspiug system, to the principles and maxims of which it will require some effort for him to 252 LBCTTJKES TO YOUNG MEN. confoTm. He mingles with a multitude of people, and has business transactions with many whom he finds all absorbed by their own schemes and ■ personal interests. For him they have scarcely a thought beyond the bar- gain which is to be made, or the item of business to be settled. At home he was a son, brother, or beloved com- panion ; but now he is only a boy in a store or shop, — a mere machine to be moved about in the money-making world. The multitude forget that he has a heart full of sensibility, and, perhaps, noble feelings. They forget that an unkind word or act may pierce his soul, and rankle there for months or years. And it is when the mind of a youth is passing through such an experience as this, that it is peculiarly exposed to the temptations of the city. With the cravings of its social nature unsatis- fied, with its sympathies frozen at their fountain by the icy influences around them, it is ready to yield to the fascinations and allurements of forbidden pleasure. Here, I firmly believe, is the great secret of the fall of so many young men, who, up to the hour of leaving home, had maintained a character marked by the highest virtue and integrity. It is not simply because the restraints of a father's'^house are removed, but the love of a father's house is removed. The youth feels that he is cut off from all social influences and enjoyments. In the very spring-time of life, when the desires are strong and fresh, when the heart yearns for sympathy, the youth finds himself an exile in a harren desert. In the midst of a crowded city, he stands alone. He says, in his heart, " No one cares for me, and I will not care for THE DUTIES OF EMPLOYERS. 25E myself. If enjoyment can be obtained only by walking in perilous paths and exposing my principles and char- acter, I accept the terms." And while the emissaries of Satan are coming with their gifts, and proffering their enticements, how few come with counteracting influences and innocent pleasures ! In our large cities, how much more costly and extensive are the means and institutions for promoting vice, than those which exist for advancing virtue, and the intellectual and moral culture of the young ! Now, at such a period, let the employer sympathize with those under his care, — let him, by kindness, or by acts that will cost him but little, supply the want of home influences and enjoyments, — and he may do an incalculable amount of good. Many a youth has been saved from, ruin by a kind word. The destiny of many a boy, for time and eternity, has been decided by a single kind act, from one who was in a situation to benefit him. Here is a field for philanthropic effort and Christian benevolence, which has not been as thoroughly explored or fully occupied as many others. It is not difficult to get men to cooperate in great and conspicuous plans for doing good. If a person could devote himself to some extensive philanthropic movement that would excite gen- eral attention, and secure on his tomb-stone a record of his wonderful self-denial and wide-spread usefulness, he would doubtless be ready at once to respond to the call. But let me tell that man, that in the ordinary pursuits of every-day life, — in the house, store and workshop, — 22 254 LECTURES TO TOUNG MEN. opportunities are constantly presented for the exercise of as noble qualities of heart, and as much self-denial, aa would be required by the greatest work of philanthropy. We need not go abroad for occasions to serve our fellow- men, to perform acts of charity and kindness, to cheer the faint-hearted, and encourage the desponding. Every pathway of human life is full of such occasions. They press upon us every day and every hour. Especially in the relations and intimacies created by trade they are at all times to be found. And, though no trumpet may sound forth our praises, nor proclaim to the world our charities, — though they may not be written upon the marble tomb-stones, yet they will be written upon grate- ful hearts, and 'be remembered by Him who notices the giving of a cup of cold water to a disciple. Christ has set us an example, in this particular, that is full of significance. He does not ofteiv appear "before us on what might be termed great occasions. We find him seizing opportunities as they come in his way. At one time he is at the sea-shore conversing with a few fishermen. At another, leaning upon a well talking to a Samaritan, woman. He heals the sick, gives sight to the blind, and strength to the weak and palsied, as he happens to meet them in the streets or in the villages of Judea. And every true follower'of Christ will imitate him in this particular. He will leave a blessing with every one with whom he has any intercourse. He will^ •look upon his fellow-man, not as a piece of mechanism,, to perforn^ a given amount of work, but as a moral being, having moral relations,^- a being capable of cut THE DUTIES OF EMPLOYERS. 255 ture and improvement, and related to the infinite God and to the interests of immortality. la the next place, it is the duty of employers to set before clerks, apprentices, and those in any way in their service, an example of strict integrity and high moral principle. This is, indeed, the duty of all men, in all the situations and relations of life ; but there are peculiar obligations resting upon the class referred to, because those whom they employ look up to them for an example of what is proper and right. A clerk, on enter- ing a store, desires to become thoroughly acquainted with the branch of business which is followed in the establish- ment with which he has become connected. His object is to learn, not only the prices and qualities of goods, and. the state of home and foreign markets, but the best principles upon which to prosecute the business. He watches the progress of trade, the manner in which bar- gains are made, and the dealings with different classes of Customers. He is virtually a scholar, who is every day receiving his education for the great duties and mission of life. If the impression is made upon his miiid that business cannot be conducted successfully upop principles of strict hpnesty, and veracity, it may be exceedingly difficult afterwards to eradicate this error from his mind. Or, if his employer, while managing his affairs with ability and discretion, is not a man of sound moral char- acter, the influence of a knowledge of this fact will be potent for evil. The sentiment will be imperceptibly imbibed, that one's character has little to do with his success in trade, and .that the doctrine that ' Godliness 256 LECTURES TO YOTJNfl MEK. . \ is profiiable for this life " can hardly be considered as well grounded, or of general application. The appren- tice, also, not only gains a knowledge of his trade, but receives deep' impressions from all the moral and immoral influences with which- he comes in contact. Indeed, the word apprentice originally signified a scholar, and is derived from the French word appr&ndre, — to learn ; and the word university, which is now employed to desig- ttate institutions of learning, formerly was used to denote a company of men engaged in any particular branch of business or trade, .as "the university of smiths," "the university of clothiers," &c. And we may, with propriety, regard the mercantile and mechanical estab- Kshments, and the manufactories in our cities, as uni- versities, of which the merchants and master mechanics are the professors and teachers. In these universities thousands of our youth spend ten or twelve hours of every day in the week, forming their principles, and imbibing habits, which they will probably carry with them through life. From these institutions • are to graduate the men who are to control the vast mechani- cal operations and commerce of the world. - "Soyi, if it is important that the professors in our colleges and seminaries be men of strict integrity and high moral character, in order that the professions of medicine, the law, and the ministry, may be filled with suitable men, it is equally important that the teachers in the universities of trade and business be men of exemplary life, that we may have a generation of merchants and mechanics who will do honor to our cities, and make the great forces of THE BUTIES OF EMPLOYEES. 257 commerce and the mechan.cal arts tributary to the best welfare of society. 'When we consider the prodigious growth of the trade of commercial nations, and the extent to which commerce and manufactures touch the various classes in society, and are interwoven with great moral and political questions, we cannot overstate the impoi^-- ance gf having" thoroughly diflfiised^ through them the principles of integrity, justice and religion. Our churches, our philanthropic and benevolent enterprises^ the progress of civilization, and of the world's conversion to Christianity, are all seriously affected by the char- acter and action of those who wield the great moneyed interests and industrial operations of the world. Let the marts of trade and the halls of incfustry be purified ; let every employer act under a solemn sense of his responsi- bility to promote the moral welfare of those under his care ; let the merchant set a holy example before his clerks, and the mechanic before his apprentices, and the shipmaster before his crew, and the superintendent and overseer . before the laborers in their employ, and the whole community would be richly benefited. On the other hand, let the example of these persons be perni- cious, and, through those under their care, their corrupt habits, or dishonest courses, may be diffused over wide circles in society, and be transmitted through successive generations. Next to the immoral influences exerted by parents upon their children, those that flow from employers towards the youth committed to their charge are the most to be deprecated. Not long since, I stood on one 22* 258 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. of our wnarves, near to a man who was conducting the operations of a company of workmen under his care. In giving his directions, il; seemed difficult for him to' utter a si igle sentence without accompanying it with a volley of oaths. While the men were working with skill, diligence and faithfulness, there was a tyranny in' his manner and a fierceness in his expressions, that were positively frightful and disgusting. Though the men seemed re^ectful, and made no reply to his inso- lence, yet oath followed oath in such rajad succession that the man appeared to be overflowing with the spirit of blasphemy. He seemed the complete embodiment of atheism ; and one might have supposed that he had received a license to insult his Maker with impunity. I could not but think of the terrible influence that he must exert over the minds of that company of men, who, in an honorable eiJiployment, were toiling for their bread. Had they remonstrated with him, it might have cost them their situation; and, therefore, they 'silently endured the infliction. Now, I cannot see how a man, who happens to occupy a position above some of his fel- low-men, obtains the right to outrage their moral feel- ings, and use language in addressing them such as we should expect from a fiend. If he has more intelligence, or property, or skill, than they, he is.bound to set them an example of virtue and rectitude. Certainly, he has no right, simply because he gives them employment, to corrupt their souls, and fifty or an hundred times in the course of a day call down upon them the wrath of A.lmighty God. THE DUTIES OB EMPLOYEES. 259 In many of the shops and large manufacturing estab- lishm.ents in our city, there is an awful amount of profane language used. Young men, members of this church, have informed me that six days out of the seven they are obliged to hear the name of their God profaned by those with whom they are associated in busi- ness. Other forms of evil influences prevail in these establishments to an alarming extent, — influences tl^t cannot fail to be- most destructive upon young minds in which moral and rehgious principles are not fixed. Now, although we cannot, from the pulpit, reach the class of persons referred to, — for. they are Seldom seen within the walls of any church, — yet those in the business community who reverence their Maker, and are actu- ated by high moral and religious principles, may, by theii; personal influence, do mu^h towards abatigg these evils. I know of large mercantile estabhshments in the city of New York, and I presume that there are many such in this city, where the employers not only set an example of strict honesty and religious principle, but where they require of those whom they employ a pledge or promise that they will never utter a profane oath, nor visit a theatre or any other place of demoralizing amuse- ment, nor practise the least dishonesty in their dealings. And such establishments are among the most prosperous and wealthy in that city. In a work entitled " The Suc- cessful Merchant," containing sketches of the life of Mr. .Samuel Budgett, of England, we have a most beautiful and forcible illustration of the moral benefits which an employer may confer upon those under his care. This 260 LECTUEES TO YOUNG MEN. ^ merchant had risen from very small beginnings to be the head of a large establishment. His skill and tact in business were as remarkable, as his rigid honesty and integrity. He had vast storehouses, an immense corre- spondence to conduct, and an extensive and complicated business to transact. The vrriter of his life, in passing around his premises, entered a large room in which there was no merchandise, but which was furnished with neat seats, and a table, on which he found " Fletcher's Family- Devotion," and "Wesley's Hymns." On inquiry, ho found that this was the chapel of the establishment, and that every morning, half, an hour before' breakfast, the men assembled there for family worship. He gives the following account of an occasion, when he was present ; "The morning after Mr. Budgett's funeral, I was in the warehouse before hajf-past seven o'clock. The vari- ous departments were in full play, and the wagoners ' packing their loads. At the half-hour the bell rang. I went into the chapel. It was soon filled with the men .in their working-dress. About eighty assembled. A son of the deceased principal sat at the table. He took up 'Fletcher's Family Devotion,' and read the portion of scripture appointed for the 8th of May, with the accompanying reflec-tions. . The passage is that which records the wish of the daughters of Zelophehad. The reflections seemed as if they had been framed on purpose to follow the memorable scene in which they had all acted a part yesterday, — turning upon the duty of honoring the memory of the .departed. THE UUTIES OS EMPLOYERS. 261 " The young jnerchant, himself affected by the cixcum- stances, and by the coincidence of such a lesson coming on that particular morning, addressed the men in a few words of cordial Christian advice. He then gave out a hymn, which was heartily sung. Next, he . called upon one of them, by name, to pray. All knelt down, and the man prayed,, with ■ fervor and solemnity, for spiritual blessings to them all; for comfort to the bereaved family; and for the business, that God might make it" •prosper. When he ceased, the young master took up the strain ; and thus men and master unitedly wor- shipped tBe great Disposer who appoints the lot of all. About half an hour was spent in this religious service. Little would a man of the world think, in watching the vast trade going forward within those walls, and the vigor with which the whole machine moves, that time is daily found to hearken to a voice from "the unerring Guide, and bow down to call for blessings from the hand* that can make everything to speed. And think you that those daily prayers have had no , part in the rapid growth and healthy action of that establishment ? " When one of the proprietors is not present, the service is Tield as usual, being conducted by some of the pious men. " Such is the establishment of which Mr. Budgett was the head. It stands there his monument. Its propor- -tions record the extent of his views ; its order, his power to systematize ; its prompt and rapid action, his vigor ; its moral tone, his piety. Thirty years ago, he was admitted a jartner in a retail shop in a country village. 262 LKCTUUES TO TOUN& MEN. NoTT he has left what a local paper calls the largest business in the west of England, and one that turns nearer ■ millions than thousands in the courser of the year." After such a morning service do you think ths^t any profane word, or infidel sentiment, or corrupting fliought, would be uttered in that establishment duving the day 1 What an influence, too, would those men carry home to their families, and exert in the" various circles in which they moved ! Truly might such an establishment be termed a-university, or rather a theological seminary, in which men were taught 'a knowleSge" of God, atid trained for the duties of this life, aifd the realities and joys of immortality. Another duty which we would specify is that of pro- viding for the right improvement of the leisure hours of clerks' and apprentices. This cannot, perhaps, in every case,»be fully done ; but; to a great extent, it is in the power of every employer to guard, in this way, the morals of those in his service, and to promote their com- fort and happiness. For when the business of the' day is over, the mind, and especially the youthful mind, craves excitement. There is an intense desire for amusement, — something to interest, stir and satisfy the mind. It is the same feeling that prompts so many young men to leave, their homes and traverse the ocean, visit foreign lands, engage in hazardous enterprises, rush to the. golden regions of California and Australia. The head of a large establishment finds his excitement in his daily business, his jlans and schemes for increasing his wealth THE DUTIES OJ? EMPLOYERS. 263 f or extending his influence. But tte clerk or apprentice passes through the dull routine of his daily duties with- out this excitement to spur him on ; and, when his task is completed, his mind is jaded and unsatisfied. He is ready to rush to the theatre, the gambling-room, the drinkiug-saloon, or any place where thei cravings of his nSture can be satisfied. Now, let him be invited by his employer to his house, and introduced to refined and intellectual society,^ let him be encouraged to read good books, and form a taste for literary and scientific pursuits, — let him be stimulated to reach a high standard of mental culture and moral excellence, and he will loathe rather than crave demoralizing amusements. Much has been done in this respect by the establish- ment in our cities of " Mercantile Library Associations," and " Christian Unioijs " of young men. The latter in- stitution is more particularly designed to meet the social wants of the young. And, if its provisions and aims are carried "out, and each member is actuated* by a sense of personal responsibility, a more admirable institution could not be devised. From the association in this city, comprising, as it does, such a vast amount of intel- lectual power and moral worth, we expect that a rich harvest of benefits will be reaped. Every young man in the city should avail himself of the advantages of this society, for its express design is to supply the lack of home influences and social enjoyments. Let us, brethren, in our several spheres fulfil our duties, and we shall not only enjoy the approbation of 264 lECTTJKBS TO -TOTOG MEN. conscience, but tlie smiles of the Great Master and Proprietor of the universe. We shall lay up treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not COTfupt, nor thieves break, through and steal. We shall receive at last the welcome, " Well done, good and faithful servaiit ; enter thou into the joy of thy Lord." Xill. •a DUTIES OF CLERKS AND APPRENTICES. Not slothliil in business ; fervent in spirit, serving the Lord." — RoMAKS 12 : 11. There is a strong tendency, among all classes of men, to divorce business from religion. It seems to be taken, for granted tbat a man cannot be an eminent merchant and at the same time an eminent Christian 1 that he cannot excel in trade and in piety. If such were the fact, the injunction in our text would never have been given. For the Bible does not require any man to perform impossibilities. It is true that we cannot, at the same time, serve God and Mammon ; but there is a marked distinction between the principle involved here, and that which we are considering. In serving Mam- mon, it is implied that we give our supreme affections to worldly objects ; that we pursue worldly business from purely selfish ends ; and reason, as well as the Scrip- tures, teaches us that a man cannot have twd supreme objects of affection. He cannot love the world with all 23 266 LEOTUEBS TO TOTJNG MEN. his soul, mini and 'strength, and, at the same time, love God with all his strength. The two courses are obvi-- ously incompatible. One affection will necessarily neu- tralize, or destroy, the ' other. * But this by no means Conflicts with the requisition to combine diligence in business with the fervency of a religious spirit and devo- . tion in the service of God. It is the motive prompting one to engage in business thajt gives to it its character. Two persons may perform the sanffe amount of business, and conduct it with equal ability, skill, and even honesty, — and the one may be faithfully serving his God, while the other is serving only himself. The one may be liv- ing for the highest and noblest purposes of his being, and the other be pursuing the most sordid ends, and daily bowing the knee to Mammon. The Great Judge of char- acter looks not simply upon our outward actions, bijt upon the spirit that prompts them ; and He has given to us this comprehensive command: "Whether, therefore, ye eat or drink, or whatsoever ye do, do all to the glory of God." In presenting some of the duties that devolve upon clerks and apprentices, I would remark, in the first place, that it is of primary importance that they realize the true ends of their vocation. It is reasonable to suppose, since Providence has placed so large a portion of the human family in the various branches of trade, commerce and industry, that He designed these arrangements for some higher purpose than simply to afford to man the means of subsistence. While the wants of the lower orders of beings are, to a DUTIES OF CLERKS AND APPKENTICES. 267 great extent, supplied without the exeiteis'e o£ foresight or labor on their part, — while even the lilies of the valley, that " toil not, neither spin," are arrayed in beauty and glory far s'lirpassing the court of Solomon in the day* of its highest splendor, — we cannot suppose that man, created in the image of his God, and endowed with an immortal nature, is called upon to devote so much time and strength to his daily vocation, simply to obtain food and clothing for the body. Can it be true that one class of men are expending their energies and wearing out their lives in cultivating the soil, and others are swelter- ing in the confined halls of crowded factories, and others traversing the ocean amid fearful dangers, and others busy from morning till night in making bargains, or hurrying through our streets, merely ta obtain that which is granted to the brute creation without care or eflfort ? There must be some higher design in all this industry, — in the vast accumulation of the works of art, — in the transportation of such immense quantities of merchandise from one country to another, and in the universal activity among the teeming millions upon the globe that every morning's sun awakens, and that ceases only with the fatigues of the closing day. And what is this great design ? Obviously, that we may be useful in serving our fellow-men and our God. He who framed " these systems of industry and commerce designed them for the development of the benevolence and all the noble qualities of the human heart, — designed them as so many agencies for the performance of mutual services among men. They every day teach us our dependence one 268 LBCTtJEES TO YOUNG MEN. upon anjther, teach us -the -duty of exercising gratitude towards the various classes who are toiling for our bene- fit.' If a man is about to build a house, he cannot do the work, or even a small part of it, alone. He^ust call to his aid manj skilful artisans, avail himself of the inven- tions and improvements which human genius has pro- duced. Were he to sit down to enumerate the different classes of men whose labor and industry he requires in erecting the house, preparing the materials, making and ' Supplying the furniture, weaving the fabrics that he. would need, he would become weary with the effort of simply recording them.- He would soon find that he must make drafts upon all departments of trade and art, and that he must go beyond his own country, and collect articles and materials from every 'nation upon the globe. He must employ the commerce of the world before his edifice is completed. And, when the work is finished, could he collect around his habitation all who had, directly or indirectly, contributed to its strength, comfort or beauty, he would look upon a dense mass of human beings, whose number he could not compute. As I look upon my library, and attempt to enumerate the number of learned, wise and good men, to whom. I am indebted for their contributions of thought or prin- ciples that are comprised in its volumes, I am as com- pletely lost as I should be in the attempt to number the stars in the heavens, or the sands upon the sea-shore. The amount of carefal study, patient research and men- tal effort, required in different ages, and among different . nations of the world, to produce 'this library, baffles aH DUTIES OF CLERKS AND APPRENTICES. 2&9 human calculation. And, if multitudes of my fellow- men have served me so faithfully, shall I not endeavor to faithfully serve the multitude ? Shall I not, in the social arrangements around me, recognize and act upon the great law of mutual service, and thus look beyond my private and selfish ends 7 Even the poor man has thousands to wait upon him. His house is built for him ; his clothing and food prepare* ; streets are made through which he may walk ; cars- are built in which he may ride; governments are organized to. protect his life and privileges ; schools are established for the education of his children ; books are printed that he may read them ; mails run daily to carry his letters. ■ Every hour that he lives he is served in' various ways, and by various classes of his fellow-men. And, if he is a Christian, beings from other worlds come' to wait upon him. An- gels encamp round about him, to guard hini from evil, strengthen his hopes, and aid him in making progress in the divine life. The Saviour is with him at all times. The Holy Spirit hovers over him ; and God the Father, whose eye never slumbers or sleeps, watches over him, and causes all things to work together for his good. This law of usefulness pervades all the departments and operations of nature. We see everywhere a ceas&- less activity, that is working out some good for man. The sun shines, the rain descends, the tides ebb and flow, vegetation comes to maturity, the fruits ripen, and a thousand agencies are at work in the great laboratory of nature, all for the benefit of nian. While thus sup- plying our necessities-, nature throws around us, as 28* 270 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. though the gifte were but incidental, a rich variety of beautiful landscapes to please the eye and gratify the taste. . In all her works you find either beauty or sublimity, or consummate skill or grace in some of its forms. Upon every object around us we may read the word usefulness written by a divine hand. A single blade of grass teaches man a lesson of benevolence. Had God intended that' man should live an isolated and selfish existence, instead of distributing His bounties in dififerent countries and zones, He would have placed them all in the midst of each community, and thus rendered intercourse with each other unnecessary. But he has given to China the cultivation of tea, and be- stowed upon distant islands various spices and luxuries, in order that those who desire them may become ac- quainted with the moral* condition and habits of the people in these regions, and be taught the dependence of one community upon another. He has deposited the gold of this land, in a distant and wild region, that it may serve to attract the civilization of the north-eastern states, and thus difi'use more generally the social and religious advantages which have so long distinguished this portion of our country. He has made commerce a golden chain, to bind together the different parts of the world in a com- mon interest, and to prepare the way for the universal diffusion of Christianity. Now, it is of the highest importance that the youth, at the outset of his career, should recognize and act upon the great principle of mutual service, that runs through the conmerce of the world. He should enter DUTIES OF CLERKS AND APPRENTICES. 271 upon the business of life feeling that he has a mission to accomplish, involving the welfare of his felldw-men, and the honor of his God. He should be ready to. say, "I have not been summoned into being, by the Creator, simply to obtain food and clothing, and to live for a few selfish ends. I am placed' here to work for the good of my race ; to cooperate with the great agencies of nature, and the systems of commerce" and trade, in the enter- prises of benevolence and usefulness. I am here to join with the warmth of the sun, and the refreshing shower, and the growth of vegetation, and the industry and skill of my fellow-workers, in promoting the comfort, improvement and happiness, of the world. I have received my commission from the Master above, who will hold me accountable for the manner in which I discharge the duties of the office to which he has assigned me. I canliot escape responsibility under the plea that my position is a private and humble one; for no position that is connected with the welfare of mankind is either private or humble." Let the youth enter upon the business of life animated by such sen- timents, and he will have the satisfaction of feeling that he is accojnplishing the great purposes of his being. He will feel that there is a dignity in every department of labor, and a field foi? th» exercise of the noblest qualities and energies of the soul. He will find, also, that the most effectual way to benefit himself is to labor for tho benefit of others. By pursuing this course, ■ he binds his own interests to the great law of usefulness, and brings himself under the full power of the principle 272 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. laid down by Christ, that "it is more blessed to give than to receive." Every day that he lives, he experi- encet the reflex influences of his endeavors to faithfully dischirge his duties to society and to God. In the next place, those who are entering upon the business of life should have before them a high stand- ard of excellence.' Whatsoever is. worth doing at. all, is worth doing well. There is no vocation so humble as to exclude the neces- sity of 'care and faithfulness. If a man is called by Providence to sweep the streets, let him resolve to do his work well. Let him aim to excel, and he will receive the respect of all respectable men*. It is not one's voca- tion that makes the man, but the spirit of faithfulness, or unfaithfulness, that is in him. His principles and *sentiments, aiid not his daily business, constitute, his character, and the essence of his being. Under a rough exterior and coarse garments, and ^ in connection with severe daily toil, are often found noble sentiments, and pure and exalted traits of character. The humblest calling is designed to test one's diligence and faithful- ' ness, as well as the loftiest and most responsible position in society. In aiming, however, to reach a high standard of excel- lence, the motives should ' be such as the Searcher of •hearts can approve. An ambition to surpass or eclipse others, in order to gratify the pride of the heart, shows an unworthy and selfish spirit. But, to struggle after eminence in order that we may use our proficiency or . influence in serving our fellow-men, to be anxious for DUTIES OJ? CLERKS AND APPRENTICES. 273 power )r •wealtli in order that we may most effectually fulfil the law of love, is in the highest degree honorable. In fact, it is every man's duty to improve to the utmost the talents and ;pportunities that God has given to him. If he is called to be a merchant, or mechanic, or an artist, let him aim at being the best merchant, or mechanic, or artist, in the community. Let him exer- cise his industry and skill to do his work well, that he may increase his power to benefit his fellow-men, and honor God. For, surely, God is most honored by him who most faithfully fulfils the task assigned to him, and who combines in his business the highest excellence with thQ purest motives and soundest moral principles. "But," to use the language of another, "who ever thinks about God in business ? I think about God in church ; but in business one has something else to think about. Men in a market are not likely to think about God. Perhaips not ; but men in a market have great need to think about God. No bargain is ever made in which God is not concerned. He is the eternal and universal guardian of justice. You can never exclude Him from any matter in which the rights of His offspring are involved. Against all who Would wrong you, He takes your part. Against you, He takes the part of all you would wrong. Over all the rights of His creatures His own hand is evermore spread as a buckler. No man can wound- your rights without smiting that hand. Yo j can wound no man's rights without smiting it. See that you smite it not, for that great right hand of justice holds a tremendous sword." 274 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. ■ * This excellence sbould be reacted, also, to demonstrate to the world that ardent piety, and tact and sijecess in business, can go together. The impression extensively prevails that the highest woirldly prosperity is neces- sarily connected with the service of Satan ; and that ■whatever time or energy a man gives to religion must necessarily be taken from his business. Under the influence of this error, many, who are fully convinced of ':he importance of attending to the welfare of the soul, put it off to a more convenient season, deeming an im- mediate attention to the subject incompatible with the successful prosecution of their worldly plans. And a young man who is striving to maintain a spiritual life while laboring to acquire skill in his trade, or to excel in making bargains and serving his employer, is looked upon as engaged in a visionary experiment. His worldly associates are ready to assure him. that he must give up his religion, at least during the week, if he would become a successful business man. Now, I do not believe ,that the highest mercantile eminence and prosperity are necessarily on the side of Satan. I be- lieve that it is possible to combine diligence in business with a fervent religious spirit; and every one, on the theatre of trade or commerce, -who does this, daily pro- tests against the opposite doctrine. He proves to the world that a man's temporal and spritual interests can both be oared for at the same time, and that he can increase in piety while increasing in wealth. And this he does, not simply by being devotional on the Sabbath, but by obeying th ) coparoand to do whatsoever he does DUTIES OF CLBKKS AND APPRENTICES. 275 " for the glory of God." He serves God m his business, and God prospers him. And it is reasonable to suppose that such would be the case when we consider that in carrying forward the great systems of benevolence, and the plans for the universal spread of the. gospel, pecuniary means are as essential as amy other agencies. We need pros- perous Christian merchants, as much as devout Chris- tian ministers. - We need to haye' the marts of business crowded with merchants buying, selling and getting gain, for the glory of God, as well as churches crowded with sincere worshippers. We need to have the vast systems of commerce and mechanical industry perme- ated with the spirit of religion, .as well ag our systems of benevolence, — for the latter are obviously dependent upon the former. The circulation of Bibles and re- ligious tracts, the establishment and maintenance of churches, the sending forth of foreign missionaries, all , depend upon a sanctified commerce. And when we read "Holiness to the Lord" written upon our ships, and over our markets, exchanges, work-shops and counting- roonis, as well as over our pulpits ; when we see a gen- eration of youthful merchants and mechanics, industrious in their several departments, and vying with each other in an honorable competition to gain wealth to pour into the treasury of the Lord ; when we see a business com- munity toiling under the same sense of responsibility, in respect to the world's conversion, that weighs upon the heart of the devoted missionary, — we may believe that a brighter day is about to dawn upon the earth. We may 276 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. look for the giving -way of the strongholds of heathen- ism, and for triumphs in the progress of Christianity, such as the church has never beheld. Much has been said, of late^ upon the subject of training up young men for the conversion of the world ; and, among the necessi- ties of our times, none is more pressing than the need of youth intellectually and morally prepared to carry the glad tidings of salvation to the destitute portions of the earth. But the means and agencies by which the wort of the world's salvation is to be achieved must come from all departments of trade, as well as from our' colleges and seminaries. Yonng merchants and mechanics must be trained up with right views and principles, as well as those who are to be the bearers of the bread of life to the destitute. Another duty devolving upon clerks and apprentices is that of devoting their leisure hours to mental improvement. The motiv.es that should prompt to this are various and weighty. One's happiness, usefulness and power to serve his God, depend upon his intellectual force and resources. It is not enough to be a good tradesman, or a skilful and accomplished artisan. It is not enough to be diligent in business, though we are actuated by the purest motives, and consecrate our gains to the service of humanity and of God. We need to leave the daily routine of toil and traffic, and refresh the mind at the fountains of knowledge. We need the stimulus, and mental enlargement and vigor, that a general culture can impart. We need to remember, in » whatever eircum- DUTIES 05 CLERKS AND APPRENTICES. 277 t stances we are placed, that there is a divine image within us, that it becomes us not to neglect; that there are powers that may be strengthened, and chambers of mem- ory that may be stored with valuable knowledge ; that there is an ethereal spark that admits of a lustre that may shed its light and beauty over » vast community. We are so constituted that there is an intense pleasure in the simple act of gaining knowledge. We l5ve to explore the fields of literature and the mines of science. We love to penetrate into the mysteries of nature, read her ' laws, observe her operations, study the beauty and har- mony of her movements. There is a pleasure in mas- tering the principles of mathematics a,nd philosophy; in passing through the richly-furnished apartments of chemistry ; in becoming acquainted with the principles of botany, that reveal the rigid laws which produce the exquisite beauties of flowers ; in learning from geology the history of our globe, — of its mountains, valleys, strata, lakes, mines, and vast deposits of C9al and useful, metals ; in soaring amid the grandeurs of astronomy, and discovering the perfect order which the Great Architect has followed in all his works, and viewing the extent and glory of his kingdom. There is pleasure in the reflec- tion that beyond the widest fields that we can traverse there are boundless regions, in which the mind may expatiate for successive ages. To wall up the mind within the narrow bounds of one's daily business is virtually to imprison it. It is to sentence it td the dull routine of hard labor, in a prison, for life, when it should be out under the broad sunlight 24 278 ' LECTURES TO TOXING MEN. of knowledge, breathing the air of a pure and healthful literature, gazing upon the beauties and gathering the golden treasures of truth, that lie in every pathway. Yet, even iri this highly-favored city, how many minds there are, capable of culture, of the highest intellectual accomplishments, of reaching the loftiest heights in sci- ence, that are in prison ! How many, alas ! are in loathsome dungeons, chained to the hard, damp floor by vicious habits, and suffering from the combined effects of Ignorance and wickedness ! As a means of usefulness, as well as happiness, knowl- edge should be sought. If it be true that "knowledge' is power," how important it is that eyerj youth possess .this power ! But, says the clerk or apprentice, " I am not a student, and have neither the time nor means for ac- quiring learning. My daily duties exhaust my strength,- and the few leisure hours that are allowed me must be devoted to rest or relaxation. Besides, numerous inter- ruptions and obstacles will impede my progress, and soon discourage me." To all this we would reply that a determined spirit .will enable one to gain knowledge,' and even extensive learning, under any circumstances. We can point to many distinguished and useful men, who acquired their knowledge in the fragmenta of time that they saved in the course of their clerkship or apprentice- ship. Multitudes have attained the highest eminence in literature, poetry,- science and philosophy, who never received a collegiate education. I might refer you to Bowditch, Fulton^ Franklin and others, who, by their own personal energies, gained the eminent position which DUTIES OF CLEEKS AND APPRENTICES. 279 tHey -loccupied. Among those wlio prosecuted their studies under discouragements, and in the midst of their daily labor, we might mention the distinguished Lin- nseu?, the father of the modern system of tetany, who was once a shoemaker ; the learned Gifford, founder and editor of the (Quarterly Revieio, who was an orphan ship- boy, and afterwards an apprentice to a shoemaker, and used to work out his problems on a piece of leather, with an awl. The immortal Herschel, who has written his name anjong the stars, was the son of a poor mueician, • and commenced life by playing with a band connected with the Hanoverian Guards. The Learned Blacksmith, in writing to Mr. Everett, gives the following account of the manner in which he commenced his studies while an apprentice : "I suddenly conceived the idea of studying Latin. Through the assistance of my elder brother, who had himself obtained a collegiate education by his own exer- tions, I completed my Virgil in the evenings of one win- ter.' After some time devoted to Cicero and other Latin authors, I commenced the Greek. At this time, it was necessary that I should devote every hour of daylight, and a part of the evening, to the duties of my apprentice- ship. Still, I carried my Greek grammar in my hat, and often found a moment, when I was heating some large iron, when I could place my book open before me a,gainst the chimney of my forge, and go through with tupio, tupteis, tuptei, unperceived by my fellow-appren- tices, and, to my confusion of face, with a detrimental efibct to my charge in the fire. Li tho evening I sat 280 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. down, unassisted and alone, to the Eiad of Hbmer, twenty books of which measured my progress in that language during the evenings of another winter. * * * I have been able to add so much to my previous acquaint- ance with the ancient, modern and oriental languages, as to be able to read upwards of fifty of them with more or less facility." The case of James Ferguson, the astronomer and experimental philosopher, is a remarkable instance of self-education. He was born at Keith, in the north of Scotland, in 1710, and was the son of a day-laborer. While his father was teaching his eldest brother to read the Scotch Catechism, James was busy in learning the same lessons ; and, before his father was aware of it, he had learned to read. When about eight years old, an ■ accident occurred to his father's house which directed his attention to mechanics, and led him, without assist- ance, to discover, the principles of the lever ^d the wheel and axle. While engaged in the humble occupation of a shepherd, he spent his nights in studying the heavens and drawing maps of the stars, and in the day-time he constructed mills and spinning-wheels. After various reverses and discouragements, he worked his way upward until he attracted the attention of scientific men, and was aided in his mechanical and philosophical pursuits. He was chosen a member of the Royal Society, and was inti- mate with George III., who, while Prince of Wales, attended his lectures, and conversed with him on astro- nomical subjects. Among his works, which are 'able and numerous, we would mention "Astronomy Explained on DUTIES OP CLERKS AND APPBENTICES. 281 ]S'eT\-t6n's Principle?," "Lectures on Mechanics,. Hy- drostatics, Hydraulics, &c.," " Astronomical Tables," " The Art of Drawing in Perspective," &c. Such instances we might multiply almost indefinitely ; and they should serve to stimulate every young man to improve his leisure moments in acquiring mental disci- pline, and storing his mind with valuable knowledge. By forming a tasje for literary and scientific pursuits, you will effectually guard yourselves against temptatipn, obtain food for profitable thought during the labors of the day, and secure sources of rational enjoyment that a lifetime will not exhaust. You may thus extend your influence and usefulness beyond the sphere of your busi- ness, and be enabled to honor God by your mental ac- quisitions, as well as by industry and faithfulness in your employment. 24* XIV. THE SABBATH. ' • If thou turn away thy foot from the Sabbath, from doing thy pleas- ure on my holy day ; and call the Sabbath a delight, the holy of the Lord, honorable ; and shalt honor him, not doing thine own ways, nor finding -thine own pleasure, nor spealdng thine own words ; then shalt thou delight thyself in the Lord ; andl will cause thee to ride upon the high places of thef earth, and feed thee with the heritage of Jaeob thy Either : for the mouth of the Lord hath spoken it." — Isaiah 58 : 13, 11. The holy Sabbath, viewed in any of its aspects, should awaken our warmest interest and gratitude.. As a re- ligious institution, it comes to us under the sanction of the highest authority, and fraught with the richest spiritual blessings, It is the divine recognition of man's immortality, and his relations to the infinite Being. As connected with the past, it is a historic monument com- memorafive of the origin of the earth and its inhabitants ; as related to the future, it is a type of the everlasting rest. Its quiet hours and solemn services shadow forth the cahn and holy worship of heavenly regions. The THE SABBATH. 283 open temples indicate that tte gates of the celestial city are open. The tones of the church-bell seem voices from the spirit-lat.d bidding us prepare for the joys and duties of- immortality. Each Sabbath morning's light is a harbinger of that divine effulgence which will, one day, fill the temples of the New Jerusalem, and illumine every redeemed soul. These songs of praise are the pledge of the sweeter music, and loftier anthems, with which we shall honor the great King. In, urging the careful observance of the Sabbath as holy time, I would present it as a privilege, as well as a duty. We owe it to ourselves, to our highest interests, as well as to God. We need this day of rest that we may withdraw from the cares and vanities of life, and meditate upon divine truths and eternal realities. We need it, that we may contemplate the solemnities of the future,- — the deep mysteries of death, of the dark val- ley, and. of the life beyond the grave. The man who continues his secular business on the Sabbath defrauds himself, as well as his Maker. He sacrifices his moral welfare and highest good for paltry gains. He allows the world to cheat him out of heaven. The few hours' which he secures are purchased at too heavy a price. He cannot aiford, for so insignificant an advantage, to throw away the happiness of eternal ages. The man who devotes this day to worldly pleasure has no true idea of enjoyment. He cannot take his con- science and his God with him ; and, without these, he surely cannot obtain. happiness. One may as soon expect to enjoy health vhile violating the laws of his physical 284 LECTURES •TO T0UN9 MEN. being, as to have peace* of mind -while tramplmg under foot the moral laws which have been instituted for his government. "The Sabbath was made for man." It was made to meet his moral necessities, and to enable him to accomplish the highest and noblest purposes of his being. It is a testimony to the worth of the soul, and to the divine estimate that is put upon man's welfare and happiness. In order to feel the full force of the obligations that we are under to "remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy," let us look, in the first place, at the basis on which the claims of this institution rest. No one will call in question the fact that, under the Jewish dis- pensation, the seventh day of the week was set apart as holy time, and solemnly consecrated to the service of Jehovah. Nor will the usage of the Christian church, in observing the first day of the week as the Sabbath, be doubted. But the inquiry arises, Did this institution originate with the giving of the divine law on Mount " Sinai, or is it coeval with the existence of man? If the former position is sustained, then it might be argued that the Sabbath was designed exclusively for the Jewish nation ; and that, if it has claims upon others, those claims rest upon considerations independent of a divine sanction or appointment. If, on the other hand, the lat- ter position is maintained, and it can be proved that God instituted the Sabbath when He created man, it is obvi- ous that He made the appointment for the whole human family. He designed that the day should be observed as a season of holy rest by all nations, and in all ages, down THE SABBATH. 285 to the end of time. Now, although this point has been extensively discussed, and arguments in favor of both theories have been freely advanced, it is clear ~to my mind, from the Mosaic account of the creation, that God, by resting on the seventh day from all His works, and by blessing and sanctifying it, enjoined the observance of the day upon Adam and all his posterity. Having created man in His own image and likeness, and given to him a spiritual and immortal nature, He established the Sabbath as the great . central religious institution, which should serve to keep before the race their moral duties, and secure their allegiance to His moral government. It is true that but little is said m the Scriptures respecting the Sabbath, during the twenty-five hundred years -that intervened between Adam and Moses ; but it should be remembered that the history of this period is so brief, that we feannot expect'to find frequent allusions even to a day so im- portant as this. Besides, human wickedness had become •at that period so wide-spread and appalling, that, doubt- less, the Sabbath was neglected by multitudes, and by some, perhaps, entirely forgotten. Whole communities may have lost all knowledge of it ; and yet, as a divine institution, it may have remained, like other neglected commands, in full force, and binding upon all God's sub- jects. The references, however, which are made in this brief portion of sacred history, to the division of time into weeks, are regarded as evidence of the existence of the Sabbath in that early period of the world. God, in communicating with Noah, iS' said to employ the phrase "seven days." And Noah himself, while endeavoring 286 LECTUKES TO TOUN& MENv to ascertajn -whether ■T;he waters of the deluge had abated, "stayed yet other seven days, and again sent forth the dove (iut of the ark." In these and other instances, -we have a distinct recognition of the division of time into ■weeks, or seven days, a division which can be accounted for only on the ground of the existence of the Sabbath. For there were no natural phenomena, nor any periodical movements of the heavenly bodies, that would create or suggest such a division of time. But this holy day comes to us with increased author- ity, by having been solemnly ratified upon Mount Sinai. On that great occasion, everything was significant of the importance and perpetuity of the laws which were given. The children of Israel, whose whited tents were scattered ' over the surrounding plains, were commanded not to ap- proach the Mount. Their leader was called t(^ its sum- mit, where the wild grandeur of the scenes that burst around him indicated the presence of the Deity. The dark clouds, the vivid flashes of lightning, the trembling earth, all testified to the presence of the Supreme Law- giver of the Universe. In a voice like the sound of a trumpet, Moses hears the "command, "Remember the Sab- bath day, to keep it holy ; " a command designed not for one nation, but for all nations ; not for one state of soci- ety, or one age, but for all ages. And, whatever value or sanctity we attach to any one of the ten commandments belongs to the fourth commandment. For on its religious observance hang the dearest interests of the human family. It is the appointed agency for preserving among man- kind a knowledge of the true God; keeping alive a sense THE SABBATH. 287 of moral obligation and duty ; checking the wicked pas- sions of men, and fastening their attention iipon the interests of an immortal state. It is the gift of God to •all his children, to remind them of the author of their being, of the source of their blessings, — to call forth their gratitude, affection, reverence and worship. In connection with the historical argument, it is im- portant to observe that, previous to the promulgation of the law upon Mount Sinai, directions were given to the Israelites respecting the gathering, of manna which afford conclusive evidence of the preexistence of the Sabbathr Of this miraculoiis supply of food, the Israelites were commanded to gather in the morning only so much as was necessary to supply their immediate wants, except on the sixth day, when they were to collect double the usual -quantity. " Six days ye shall gather it ; but on the seventh day, which is the Sabbath, in it there shall be none. And it came to pass1;hat there went out some of the people on the seventh day to gather, and they found none." Now, had the Israelites been ignorant of the Sabbath, or of their obligations to keep the. day holy, they would have been greatly surprised at the absence of the manna on the seventh day. But it appears that this circumstance occasioned no astonishment among them. And those who went out to gather 'food on the Sabbath incurred the divine displeasure ; for God said to .them, "How long refuse ye to keep my commandments and my laws?" evidently referring to laws which had been for a long 'time in existence, ani-^ith which the people were familiar. 288 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. The proof, therefore, is conclusive, that this blessed institution claims a higher antiquity than many are ready to assign to it ; that it dates back to the creation, when the " morning . stars sang together, and all the sons of- God shouted for joy;" that it has travelled down from generation to generation, scattering blessings in its course, and preparing multitudes for the worship of that glorious world, " Where congregations ne'er break-up, And Sabbaths haye no end>" The relations of Christ and his apostles to the Sabr bath, also, increase our obligations to observe the day. Attempts have been made to show that, under the Chris- tian dispensation, we are released from- a rigid observance of the Sabbath; and. some persons have gone so far as to intimate that Christ designed to do away with this insti- tution. The declaration of the Saviour, that " the Sab- bath was made for man, and not man for the Sabbath," is often quoted, as proof of his want of reverence for the day. But, in this and his other teachings upon this point, his aim was to break up the false ideas that the Jews fentertained of the Sabbath. They had connected the day with formal ceremonies, and useless rites, and divorced it, from the benevolent and spiritual purposes for which it was given. They endeavored to force men to conform to the outward observance of the day, and paid no attention to the stale of the. heart or the life. But Christ and his apostles, disgusted' with "such formal- ism and hypocrisy, resolved to place the Sabbath in its: THE SABBATH. 289 true light before the world. They resolved to show that the Sabbath was made for man, — for his benefit, his spiritual good. It was a day for rest, for religious cul- ture and benevolent effort. The Scribes and Pharisees were, indeed, greatly* shocked when they heard that Christ was healing the sick on the Sabbath ; but it was only the shell of their hypocrisy that was disturbed. The true spirit of the Sabbath had never entered their hearts; its glorious and ' beneficent designs they had never apprfeciated. ' Christ teaches them the true pur- poses of the day, and endeavors to convince them that acts of kindness and charity are more acceptable to the God of the Sabbath than the most rigid formalities. With regard to the change of the Sabbath from the last day of the week to the first, we would remark that this was in accordance with the other changes which were made at the introduction of the gospel. Whatever there was valuable in doctrine or principle, in the ancient dispensation, was retained in the new. But the whole outward system underwent an entire revolution. The stately worship, of the temple was exchanged for the simplicity of a .spiritual and Christian devotion. The Mosaic laws were exchanged for a higher and purer code, and one adapted to an advanced state of society. The rewards promised to the obedient were eternal, rather than temporal. The sacraments, too, were changed. The Lord's Supper took the place of the passover, and baptism was substituted for circumcision. Amid such an entire re-construction of the system of religion, we cannot wonder that the day of the Sabbath was changed, 25 290 LECTURES TO YOUSG MEN. But we- may assign other reasons. On the first day oi the week Christ rose from the dead ; and it was props: that so important and glorious an event should be suit ably commemorated. In the advent and mission oi Christ, a new creation, as it were, burst upon the world The sun of righteousness arose, and shed its light upoi millions of benighted minds. Over the skies were scat tared in profusion the stars of hope. Angel-choirs wer heard chanting the words, " Glory to God in the highest and on earth peace, good-will to mto." By the tele scopic power of faith, celestial cities, towers and .palaces could be descried in the far distance. As in the firs creation the Spirit hovered over the dark waters, am brought order and beauty out of chaos, so now the Hoi; Spirit descended, like a dove, and hovered over th earth, seeking to dissipate the moral darkness, an( restore man to a state of holy obedience. If it was suitable to commemorate the first creatioE why not the glories and blessings of the second ? I fact, in the Christian Sabbath we perpetuate, under on institution, the memory of both of these events. W celebrate the glory of the Father in the work of creatior and the glory of the Son in the work of redemption nay, further, we celebrate the glory of the Holy Spiri in the work of sanctification. We embrace under on institution the blessings of three dispensations. Th Christian Sabbath is also prospective, as well as rctrc spective. It reaches forward to the spiritual worshi and blessings of an imm6rtal state. In this connection it is worthy of remark, that Christ THE SABBATH. , 291 after His resurrection, uniformly met his disciples on the first day of the week. Previous to his death, he kept the Jewish Sabbath, and worshipped in the synagogues. But after his resurrection we hear no more of his visiting the synagogues, or any other place of public worship, on the seventh day. He met with his disciples on the first day of the week, and on this day delivered to them their commission, and breathed upon them the Holy Ghost. The last interview is described with great minuteness : "The same day at evening,' being the first day of the week, when the doors were shut where the disciples were assembled for fear of the Jews, came Jcsus" and stood in the midst of them, and said. Peace be unto you : as my Father hath sent me, even so send I you." And, from that period to the present hour, Christ has raet with his disciples whenever they have assembled in his name. He has been present to listen to their prayers, stimulate their devotions, and cheer them in seasons of trial and gloom. He has made the Sabbath a delight to millions of his followers, and has already welcomed multitudes to a higher worship and nobler services in the bright regions above. There are still other weighty reasons' for urging the claims of the Sabbath. Its rigid observance is intimatety connected with man's temporal good. Among the Jews, their national prosperity, and almost their national exist- ence, depended upon the regard which they paid to the Sabbath. When this day was .kept holy, the divine favor was enjoyed, and every blessing followed in its train. The rights and happiness of the people were pro- 292 LBGTURBg TO YOUNG MEN. tected. The government was firm, and the nation secure against the invasion of enemies. The promise was ful- filled, "I will cause thee to ride upon the high places of the earth, and will feed thee with the heritage of Jacob thy father." But when the people violated the Sabbath, they became weak and wretched. The glory of their nation faded away, and the special protection of Heaven was withdrawn. At the time of Nehemiah, Jerusalem, the capital of the nation, had been conquered and plun- dered, and the people carried into captivity, in conse- quence of their violation of the Sabbath. They had disregarded God's law, and he left them to become the prey of their enemies, to suffer among the heathen, where jhere was no Sabbath, and no pure religious institutions. And, on returning to their own country, after rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, their efforts, under the guidance of Nehemiah, were directed to the reestablishment of the Sabbath, with its solemn services. A bitter experience had taught them that in the religious institutions of their fathers rested their power and prosperity ; that, unless these were rigidly maintained, they could enjoy no peace, nor secure any superiority over the nations around them. Hence every measure was at once adopted to preserve the sanctity of the Sabbath. On the previous evening the gates of the city were closed, and were not allowed to be opened until after the Sabbath. , No one was per- mitted to bring merchandise or any burden into the city on the Sxbbath. Commands were issued that all busi- ness should be suspended, and that the whole people should devote the day to religious worship. THE SABBATH. 293 We may examine the history of modern nations, and we shall find .that their stability and prosperity have been materially affected by the manner in which the Sabbath has been observed. "Where the day has been devoted to amusements, or desecrated in any other way, there vice, crime and misery, have abounded. In those nations of Europe where the Sabbath is disregarded, or where it is observed in merely a formal manner, we find poverty, ignorance, degradation, and every form of vice and suffering. In different portions of ouj- own country, the regard which is paid to the Sabbath is a sure index to the temporal and social condition of the people. Where this day is most rigidly observed, there we find the greatest amount of wealth, industry, commerce, and elements of national prosperity. The condition of New England at this day affords a striking illustration of the truth of this remark. Here the Sabbath is, to a com- mendable degree, observed. Public business is sus- pended. Churches are crowded. The voice of prayer and songs of praise are heard. Even in the smallest vil- lages the neat church is seen, with its spire pointing to heaven ; and the inhabitants, at the call of the bell, are seen coming over the hills and through the valleys, to worship. And in what other community on the, face of the earth will you find more thrift, comfort and tem- poral prosperity 1 Where will you find more real con- tentment, virtue and social happiness 1 It is true that pauperism and crime exist in New England ; but they are mainly imported from foreign countries, where the Sabbath is iesecrated. You may go through our alms- ■25* 294 LBCTTIRES TO YOtFNG MEN. houses jails and penitentiaries, and you will find in them very few native-born New Englanders. The vast major- ity have been reared in countries where there is virtually no Sabbath, no pure worship, and no healthful religious influences. New England, in a mere temporal point of view, could afford to part with any of her blessings sooner than with her Sabbath. Eor this is the sheet-anchor of her hopes, the pledge of her prosperity. It gives success to her industrial operations, preserves social order, per- petuates her jidmirable systems of education, maintains her freedom, and in a thousand ways sheds blessings upon the community. Any movements, therefore, which are calculated to weaken the hold of the Sabbath upon the reverence and affections of the people, or which lead to its desecration, "should be strefluously opposed by every patriot and Christian. The recent establishment of a Sabbath mail between this city and New York is a measure fraught with incalculable evil. It is not only an outrage upon the religious sentiments of the community, but a blow struck against our deafest social and political institutions. Let the measure be universally adopted, and we should have Sabbath mails all over New England ; and multi- tudes Qf people at depots, post-offices and elsewhere, would be found trampling under foot this holy day. It is true that many of our good citizens have protested against this act of desecration ; and it is also true that o . ' . the Infinite God has protested against it, in the recent terrible Norwalk disaster. For, if the accounts be true, it appears that, o^irig to the running of this Sabbath THU SABBATH. 295 mail, it became necesisary for the railroad company to hire an « stra engineer, in order that the regular engineer might rest one day out of seven. This rest his physical nature absolutely required, to preserve his health and strength. On the fatal day of the accident, the regular engineer was resting, and the extra engineer had charge of the train. . Had there been no Sabbath mail, there would have been no occasion for intrusting the lives of 'hose passengers to an individual so reckless. How, then, can we regard that melancholy catastrophe, in which so many valuable lives were sacrificed, in any other light than as God's protest against the desecration of his holy day ? And, remember. Almighty God does not protest on paper, but by judgments that all the peo- ple can see and feel. And,if Sabbath mails are con- tinued, what protection have we against similar disasters and protests in the future 1 * I repeat it ; New England cannot afford to throw away ^her SaBbaths. Better destroy all our railroads, burn up our merchandise, sink our ships to the bottom of the ocean, than to desecrate and despise the Sabbath. For God has said, by his prophet, and he has repeatedly exe- cuted the thrf the g3neration that is entering upon the stage of life. Here is a work worthy of the heroism of the most heroic age, — worthy of the efforts of the noblest and purest of the sons of men. It appeals to your patriotism, your humanity, your Christianity. If we extend our view to the necessities of other civil- ized nations, and take within the field of our vision the wants of the unenlightened portions of the earth, we cannot but be impressed with a sense of the weighty responsibilities that rest upon us. And the arena that opens before us is as glorious as it is vast. It presents prizes to be won, as well as duties to be performed. If there are struggles to be passed through, and sacrifices to be made, and battles to be fought, there are also splendid crowns to grasp, and thrones of influence to reach, and treasures to gather up, that will enrich the soul for this life, and bless it in the life to come. Never, in my .view, was there an age so full of inter- est, of stimulus and of hope, as the present age. Never was there so much to arouse the young, — to stir their sympathies, to fire their ardor, to prompt them, to gird themselves for the noblest efforts and achievements. With the spirit of liberty abroad, exciting discussion and urging its claims upon the oppressed of all nations, — with a commerce that brings together, and within our reach, the islands and continents of the earth, — with philanthropic enterprises and Christian associations that embrace within their sympathies the wants of millions of the human family, — we have all that a generation could ask, to exc'te the most strenuous effort, and kindle the S46 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. fires of an intense zeal and hoi j ambition And, over the wastes of past ages, prophetic voices come to us, bidding us " Arise and shine.". We hear the summons, as though in trumpet-tones, " Awake, awake, put on thy strength, Zion ! " . „ In presenting the claims of our times upon young men, I would remark, in the first place, that the age demands intellectual' activity and force. In former ages men were concerned, mainly, with material , objects. Their attention was engrossed by the outward world, and by the cares and labor of providing for their physical necessities. Strength of muscle and vigor of bodjr were of more importance than mental culture and force of mind. A man was distinguished in proportion to his physical power, — his ability to subdue • the material world, level the forests, cultivate the soil, and obtain the mastery over the animal creation. David tells us, in the seventy-fourth Psalm, that "a man was famous according as he had lifted up axes upon the thick trees." And,- in the history of Samson, who slew the lion, and overthrew the pillars of the vast structure that contained thousands of people; of Saul,' whose athletic form recommended him as a suitable king ; and of David, whose successful encounter with the powerful Philistine, and other exploits, secured for him distinction,-^ we dis- cover the leading idea upon which merit and honors were based in those distant ages. The same idea runs through the ancient 'mythology, as is seen in the record of Jupiter's exploits, in the history of the Titans, in the achievements of Hercules. Nor are we lacking monu- CLAIMS OF OUR TIMES. 347 nients that attest the physical power of these ancient generations. The mighty cities which they built, with walls of almost incredible dimensions, the pyramids of Egypt, and other vast structures, all bear testimony to this characteristic of the times. And in the efforts of tlie ancients to leave the material and enter the intellectual world, to understand the princi- ples and laws of nature, to explore the mysteries that looked out upon them from the stars above and the earth beneath, they were for a long time baffled. For thousands of years they wandered in darkness, unable to construct any scientific system that was worthy of the name. Their philosophy consisted of only crude and vague ideas concerning the elements and laws of nature. No funda- *mental principles were discovered, upon which the learned in successive generations could build enduring systems. The labors of one sect in philosophy were overthrown by the zeal or superior sagacity of another. , No leading idea of unity and harmony guided them in their re- searches after truth. No traces of design and adaptation in the works of nature could be discerned with sufficient distinctness to impress upon their minds the conception of one supreme and all-pervading Intelligence. How great is the contrast, then, between our times and those ages of ignorance and mental darkness ! How great the contrast even between the present state of science and philosophy, and their condition a few cen- turies ago, when knowledge was looked up in a few colleges and universities, and only the privileged classes could gain access to its treasures ! Now, we have phi- 848 LEOTUfiBS TO YOUNG MEN. losophy and the sciences not only cleared of the mysti- cisms and superstitions of an ignorant age, and established upon a firm basis, but also diffused through the masses of society. Mankind, instead of exercising simply their muscular strength, are called upon to exercise their intellectual faculties and powers. Instead of wandering in the regions of darkness, error and superstition, the light of science shines upon their pathway, and sheds its lustre upon all the employments and enterprises of life. Instead of being dependent upon the few, who held a monopoly of the discoveries and principles of science, all are free to enter the tempile of knowledge, and to enrich theii* minds with its choicest treasures. The greatest discoveries in astronomy, the soundest maxims of philos- ophy, the most valuable principles in chemistry, are the » inheritance of all who will take the pains to secure them. They are the property of the multitude, as much as the . light of the sun, or the air that we breathe, or the food that nourishes the body. And these vast resources are accessible to the people, not simply for mental culture and intellectual delight, but also for the practical purposes of life. In the various mechanical arts, the workman may associate science with his labor, and may be studying out principles and devel- oping new powers while he is earning his daily bread. The age enables him and stimulates him to use thought as -well as strength, and to employ his skill instead of physical force. And so rapidly are science and art advancing, that they are enabling man to employ the great agencies of nature to do the won-k that formerly CLAIMS OF OUR TIMES. 349 required the force of millions of men. Scitace gives the principle, and art constructs the machinery ; and, by the union of the two, man obtains dominion over the elements of nature, — over the air, the water, and the earth. He ploughs the ocean in his stately vessel, heedless of the winds, the currents, and the tides. With the propelling power within, with iron sinews, and an unceasing activ- ity, and a fiery energy, the almost living ship pursues her course from port to port, with the utmost regularity. Th& earth is belted with tracks, and the mighty engine, subject to the will of one man, carries, with the swiftness of the winds, thousands of human beings from city to city. Mountains are brought low, valleys are exalted, rough places made plain, and a highway prepared, over •which civilization and Christianity are advancing to fulfil their great mission to the nations of the earth. Even the hghtning, so long the object of superstitious dread, is enlisted in the service of man. It carries his thoughts over a continent with a promptness that liter- ally annihilates time and space. It runs its expresses with no other demand than a small wire road to travel upon, and with a despatch that the cannon-shot cannot compete with, nor even sound in its flight surpass. This, and the other mighty agencies of nature, are' doing for this generation a work the benefits of which cannot be calculated. They are carrying the advantages and bless- ings that formerly were the portion of the few to the many. They are breaking into the halls and castles of the privileged classes, and constituting the whole com- munity one privileged class. 30 ' 850 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. - In England and America the machinery now in oper^ ation is performing the work of hundreds of millions of men, and thus lifting the burden of labor from this vast multitude. A child, in one of our factories, can accom- plish ■ more in a day than a- score of Samsons could in ancient times. Our age, then, demands that you be men of intellectual vigor, as well as of outward activity ; that you employ ■your power of thought, as well as physical strength. For, although the discoveries and inventions of the past are so numerous and valuable, though society has within the last century made such progress, yet we cannot but believe that even more important improvements yet are to be made, and that a higher forin of civilization is yet to be reached. We cannot but believe that science and art are to aid man in obtaining more complete victories over nature, and enjoying more splendid triumphs, than any that have marked the history of the past. And, to con- tribute to the further advancement of civilization, to the greater progress of science, and to a still wider diffusion of the comforts of life, is your privilege and your duty. In the next place, the age in which we live has claims upon your philanthropy. Every American youth, in view of the rich inheritance which the benevolence of the past has bequeathed to him, and in view of the facilities afforded at the present day for prosecuting philanthropic enterprises, should be a philanthropist. Especially should every son of New England be true to those great principles and that noble spirit which inspired the hearts of our ancestors, and CLAIMS OF OUR TIMES. 351- prompted them ,to aasail with such boldness and energy the social evils around them. New England, by virtue of its origin, and from the fact that it has been the birth- place of so many benevolent institutions, is consecrated to philanthropy. In its infancy it was baptized in the spirit of humanity. Its national life, its energies, and its prospective wealth, pow'er and "prosperity, were all dedicated upon the altar of benevolence. And nobly has New England fulfilled her sacred mission. In the abun- dant provision that she has made for the poor, the blind, the deaf and the insane, — in her efforts to remove the great evils that afflict society, — in her benevolent asso- ciations to meet the spiritual wants, of the community, and to give the gospel to distant nations, we recognize the fruits of that spirit which inspired the hearts of her founders. But a great work remains to be achieved in New England itself, before her undivided moral force is given to the cause of humanity. A purer and more Christian public sentiment is yet to be created, the spirit of self-sacrifice must more generally prevail, larger numbers must abandon the worship of Mammon, and conscience must gain more victories over cotton and com- merce, before all the influences that go hence are sound, healthful, and true to the interests of humanity. We have reached quite a commendable standard of philan- thropy with reference to evils that are far from us, in India, China, Austria, and among the Hottentots. But many are slow to open their eyes to the evils that are just around them, or within the limits of our glorious Union. 352 . LECTURES TO TOUNa MEN. Now, without presuming to dictate to those whose eyes are blinded^ by the glitter of gold, or who suppose that the world was made simply as a market; to trade in, or those whose opinions belong to a past age, we do contend that the young men and the young women of this gen- eration are bound to sustain those great philanthropic sentiments that- aim at the destruction of war, slavery., intemperance, licentiousness, and kindred vices. We would not, indeed, have you run into those wild extrava- gances that characterize certain persons in the . commu- nity, who imagine jfchat they hold a monopoly of all the humanity that is felt upon these questions. But we would have you stand, with reference to them, just where the principles and spirit of Christianity would place you. We would see you occupying a platform constituted of scriptural passages such as these : " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself^" "All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them, — for this is the law and the prophets ; " " Fear God and keep his commandments, — for this is the whole duty of man." Standing thus, you stand on the rock of eternal truth. Fearing God, you have no one else to fear. It is not for you to inquire to which side of these questions the public opinion is tending, or what sentiments will give you the most popularity, or bring you the most business. You are to ask, What is right? You are to ask. What do justice, humanity, and the infinite God, require? To pursue any other course is to debase your manhood, and to sacrifice your independence, and everything that gives value U you as an intelligent and accountable being, CLAIMS OF OtTK TIMES. 353 made in the image of Almighty God. Some of you may deem it of small account what opinions you, as indi- viduals, may entertain upon the moral and philanthropic questions of the day. But we live in an age when opinions carry with them a mighty force, and when every man is accountable to God and to the world for his opinion. The great battles that are opening among the civilized nations of the earth are battles of opinion. Argument is grappling with argument, principle with principle. The spirit of discussion is everywhere abroad. You find it in the city, the town, the village, — in the drawing-room, the hotel, car, steamboat, and wherever men congregate. It pervades our newspapers, periodicals, and popular litera- ture. And it is a spirit which cannot be suppressed. While men have intellects to think, and hearts to feel, and tongues to utter, it will go on. If it is smothered in one quarter, it will break out in another. If the waters of a cold and false conservatism are played upon it, it will by its intense heat convert those waters into gases, that will carry up the flame still higher. You may pile mountains upon it, but, like the internal fires of the earth, it will heave both the mountains and the continents, and spread its light over the nations. Yes, the evils of war, of slavery; of intemperance, will be dis- cussed. You cannot place these giant sins in the bosom of this free, enlightened, progressive nation, and make them lie there quietly. You cannot stop the throbbing hearts all over this republic. You cannot make the con- sciences of this people mere machines, to be worked by aspiring politicians and the priesthood in the temple of 30* 354 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. - Mammon. Those who attempt it do not go back far enough. They must- first close all our schools, shut up the churches throughout the land, muzzle the press, for- bid public assemblies, destroy our literatftre, turn the government into an iron despotism, and roll back the swelling tide of civilization, — and then, and not till then, ■will they have hopes of success. Sp sure as these schools, churches an(J presses, retain their, power, so cer- tain is it that this spirit of discussion will continue and increase. And, so sure as men think, and, feel and argue, so surely must these great evils break away, to let civil- ization, gospel light and God's truth, advance. Your opinions, then, have weight. They constitute your influence, and your influence is your being. It is that which is vital and enduring, as far as you stand related to this world. And, as you throwjour influence in the one scale or the other "of these great questions, you hasten or retard the progress of civilization, and all its attendant blessings., Nor are the claims of the times upon your benevolence and humanity fully met, when you have joined some beneficent or philanthropic associations. Our age is dis- tinguished for societies and associated efibrt. Men com- bine together for the accomplishment of a given object, and great good is the result of such unions of sympathy and energies. But, while we are zealous in carrying forward the plaias of organization, we should guard against allowing our society membership to absorb or neutralize our individual responsibility. I need to remind you thit there is danger of this. There is danger of CLAIMS OF OUR TIMES. 355 one's ttinkiiig that, by signing his name to a constitu- tion, and attending public meetings for some charitable or philanthropic object, his whole duty is done. But the age in which we live demands individual forces. The call is for men of earnestness, energy and personal devotion, — men who, if it is necessary, will stand alone in the defence of truth, justice and the rights of human- ity. We need men like the prophet Elijah, who could alone face thousands of idolaters;' like Daniel, who feared not the power of kings nor the rage of lions ; like Luther, who, single-handed, encountered the com- bined forces of papal Europe; like Howard, whose philanthropy was fed from the deep fountains of benevo- lence in his own soul. And let this individual power be combined with the associated effort that characterizes our age, — let our societies be composed of men any one of whom may chase a thousand, and two put ten thousand to flight, — and we shall have an agency for carrying on the work of reform such as the world never be- held. These associations will constitute an enginery as mighty, in morals, as are the great agencies of nature which are employed to improve our physical condition.' Under their attacks the citadels of iniquity and vice will tremble ; nay, more, they will be battered to the ground. The war spirit will yield to the mild sceptre of peace. The towering evil of • slavery will fall ; and men will wonder that barbarism could so long" dwell with civiliza- tion, and the extremes of liberty and oppression meet and be cherished in the same republic. Intemperance 356 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. will relax its grasp upon the human appetite, and society be delivered from the iron tyranny of this- monster vice. In the next place, the times demand enlarged and comprehensive religious views on the part of those who would improve society and fulfil their mission. The day for any favorable results from simply denom- inational strife and zeal, jn promoting the interests of a sect, is past. It is not by the forms of Presbyterianism, or Congregationalism, or Episcopacy, or by the mode of baptism, that the world is to be converted, — but by Chris- tianity. In this age we have too many life-questions to deal with, and too many giant sins to wrestle with, to leave time and strength to attend to the mint, anise and cummin,, of church forms. In exercising, however, a liberal spirit, we would have you guard against com- promising, in the least degree, the great principles and doctrines of religion. We would have you contend earnestly for the faith once delivered to the .saints. For, on the purity of our religion, the stability of our faith, and the sincerity of our love for the Saviour, depend the success of all our enterprises for blessing mankind. But, with this strong attachment, to the truths of the Bible, there should be a liberal spirit, that will embrace all evangelical denominations, and recognize in every true follower of Christ a Christian brother. The spirit of denominational exclusiveness is far, very far, from meeting the wants of our timei. A sect may be exceed- ingly tenacious of its rights, may be loud in urging its claims to an exclusive monopoly of the special favors 6f Heaven, and may lay great stress upon robes, forms and CLAIMS OF OUK TIMES. 357 fertunes, bu in an age like this it will have little operative or aggressive power. It may succeed in act- ing upon the defensive, and may comfort itself with a delusion like that which is so satisfying to the Chinese, who think that they possess all the advantages and bless- ings that God has bestowed upon man, and that those who are outside of their wall are barbarians. Such a doctrine is calculated to excite only emotions of pity, especially at the present day, when God is evidently most abundantly blessing those denominations that claim no exclusive privileges, and whose ministers aim at no other honor than that of being the . successors of their great Master, Jesus Christ. Such formalists, who stand aloof from their brethren, remind me of the barons in feudal times, who, in their lofty castles, were content to look out upon the busy world, and who were mainly anxious to protect their own domains from the incursions of their neighbors. But, to have power at this day, men must come down from their dignified retreats, and come out upon the broad battle- field of human life. They must stand ready to unite with the hosts of God's army. Having on the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit, they must, if necessary, plunge into the thickest of the battle. In this way only can they have their influence felt, and show to the world that their religion is a vital reality. Another form of exclusiveness appears in those who make religion to consist in the adoption of certain doc- trinal formulas, which are of human origin, and who 358 LBOTUKES TO YOUNG MEN. hare no sympathy with those who would make the pre- cepts 3f Christianity applicahle to the sins of our own times, as well as to those of past ages. These men — dwellers, mainly, out of New England — seek to ohtain conquests without ever attacking the enemy ; and vainly suppose that the dryest and coldest presentations of divine truth will recommend religion to the hearts and consciences of men. Now, it is clear that Christ never intended his church to be a valley of dry bones. iSe intended that there should be in this sacred enclosure living forms, with flesh and muscles and strength, with arms to strike for truth and righteousness, and with hearts to feel for' the woes and wrongs of suffering humanity. If the world is presented with a religion without the element of humanity, there will spring up humanity without religion. This will be the inevitable consequence. If the mass of men have lost their moral rectitude, they have not lost their common sense, and their judgment of what is right and true. And it is a vain endeavor, to attempt to ride religion over the com- mon sense of mankind, and against the instincts of human- ity. Present to the world a Christianity without the spirit of love, kindness and good-will towards all. men, and it will be no Christianity. It will be a mere skeleton, the bones of which will be very dry. The Christianity that will be effective m subduing sin, and winning the affections of men, must have in it a beating heart, full of sympathy and love. Such a system will make pro- gress, and will obtain, extensive conquests over mankind. Now, when the different branches of Christ's visible CLAIMS OP OUK TIMES. 359 churcli shall abandon their exclusiveness and throw aside their asperities, and unite together, hand to hand, and heart to heart, it will be the signal that indicates the coming of Christ to take possession of the nations of the earth. As the world was at peace when he first ap- peared to establish his kingdom, so his church must be at peace when he shall come to extend that kingdom over the globe. Christ never intended that his church should be broken up into hostile parties, and be, like the icebergs of the northern regions, striking against and crushing each other. He would have the cold masses float down into a warmer zone, and melt and mingle together in the great ocean of love. Were the Saviour to appear to-day upon the earth, and gather around him his firiends, we should not hear him calling for Congregationalists, or Methodists, or Presbyterians, or Episcopalians ; but he would call for Christians, for those who bore his image, and had his spirit, and were inspired with desires to do good such as ever . fill his own heart. He would call for men of unwavering faith, of unflinching courage, men who would be ready to make any personal sacrifices for the benefit of mankind. But I must remind you, that, if you fully meet the claims of the times, you must not expect a life of ease and repose. It may be more to your present comfort to fall in with the current opinions of the day, and to satisfy your consciences by assailing the wicked institu- tions of past ages, and exposing the~ vices of the ante- diluvians, and not disturbing the sinners of the present 360 LECTDRES TO YOUNG MEN. generation. For the world has not been remarkable for promoting the comfort, and honoring those who hare conferred the greatest and most lasting benefits upon society. The men whom we call heroes, — men who by the force of their energy and humanity have advanced civilization in the face of barbarism, and have obtained conquests for Christianity over error or heathenism, — have not been what the world would term happy or popular men. Luther, in his lifetime, had more enemies than friends. If he was loved intensely by some, he was hated intensely by others. John Knox, the Scotch reformer, was persecuted aa well as admired, and was, at one period, a galley-slave, while endeavoring to deliver others from spiritual captivity. The faithfulness of the immortal Edwards cost him his parish, and embittered many years of his eminently useful life. Above all, the reception which Christ, the divine benefactor, met with, affords a true picture of the rewards which the earnest champion of truth and humanity may expect from unre- generated men. And, were Christ to appear in our day, and fearlessly expose and denounce the sins of modem Scribes and Pharisees, I apprehend that multitudes would say, in their hearts, if not in the public streets, " Away with him, let him be crucified ! " If, young men, you regard your present comfort more than your duty, if you love money more than you love God, if you prefer popularity in an earthly city to a repu- tation in the streets of the New Jerusalem, then suppress your humanity. Compromise with your conscience, by having your zeal against wrongs and injustice measured CLAIMS Ot JUR TIMES. 361 by the distance that those ■wrongs are from you. Let your religion be a dead formality, — actually dead, with no signs of life about it. But, on the other hand, if you would accomplish your mission, if you would live in the true sense of living, then let the calls of the age upon your humanity, zeal and moral integrity, find a response in your hearts. Resolve that, God helping you, you will bow to no institutions, customs or opinions, that are founded upon wrong, or nourished by the evil passions of men. Resolve that you will be true to the principles of a living Christianity. And, if your faithfulness costs you some temporal ad- vantages, you will save your integrity, and gain what will be of infinite value, the approbation of God. Let, then, the gospel standard be your guide. Follow that, and you cannot err. Follow that, and it will lead you to victory. Follow that, and you will at last mingle with prophets, apostles and martyrs, who have been true to the principles of right, who, in their times, nobly battled with error and injustice. Follow that, and your eye will one day rest upon the sparkling banners of the celestial city, and the towers and temples of an everlast- ing kingdom. The music of angels will fall upon your ears. A crown of glory will adorn your brow. Tor will experience the fulfilment of the promise, " To him that overcometh will I grant to sit with me in my throne, even as I also overcame, and am set down with my Father in His throne." 31 XVIII. THE GREAT EXAMPLE " Because Ckrist also suffered for us, leaving us an example that y« should follow his steps." —1 Peter 2 : 21. I CANNOT close this series of discourses without hold- ing up to your view the example of Him whose .life embodied every virtue, and illustrated every holy princi- ple. And, were this the last opportunity that would be afforded me of addressing you, I should desire to leave the image of Jesus impressed upon your hearts, and to utter in your hearing that Name " that is above every name." As an instructor, Christ has, the highest claims upon your attention. As the great Redeemer, he demands your faith. But, I wish, on this occasion, to exhibit him as the Great Example. For he came not only to furnish the world with a sublime system of truth, but with a glorious exemplification of truth. While his death constitutes the vital power of his scheme of re- demption, his life is the vital power of his system of doctrines. • THE GREAT EXAMPLE. 363 Previous to his adveut, distinguished philosophers had furnished the world with superior ethical systems. Noble principles had been advanced and eloquently defended, but they failed to make a distinct aiid 6xteh- sive impression, because they lacked the power that corresponding lives in their authors alone could impart. But Christ came not only "a teacher sent from God," but " as the brightness of the Father's glory, and the express image of His person." He was, in himself, heavenly light bursting upon the darkness of the world. The glory of the Father shone through him, and he revealed its excellences as the prism exhibits the beautiful colors of light. By his pure life, his unselfish heart, his benevolent conduct, he became the Shekinah of the temple of humanity. From his sacred person streamed forth influences that shed their lustre upon every principle that he uttered, every doctrine that 'he taught, every command that he gave. We find him not only pointing out the path of duty, but showing men how to walk therein. He not only warns them against temptation, but teaches them how to grap- ple with it, and, in the fiercest conflict, to obtain the mastery. He not only said, "Love your enemies, do good to them that hate you," but he gave the most illustrious examples .of these precepts that the world ever beheld. He not only bade us make preparation for death, but he showed us how to die, and by his resurrec- tion and ascension he brought life and immortality to light. As we may learn more of the nature and glory of light from the sun, than from the clearest and most 364 LBCTUKES TO YOUNG MEN. accurate definitions of the word ■which lexicographers can furnish, so we may learn more of virtue, of benevolence, of moral truth, from the life of Christ, than from the most elaborate and voluminous systems of divinity. And his illustrious deeds, as well as the sublime truths that he uttered, made a deep impression upon society. They attracted the attention of men, touched their sensi- bilities, and won over their afiections. His mission, in fact, in its immediate effects and prospective power, con- stituted the epoch in the world's history towards which all former missions, prophetic utterances, and divine promises of good,, converged, and from which flowed the moral influence and agencies that are blessing the nations of the earth. He was himself history, — that history which is exciting the most intense interest, that is diffus- ing itself through society, that is shaping more than any other the destiny of mankind. He went about doing good; not simply to one generation^ but to all generations ; not simply to one nation, but to all nations. It is true that Jerusalem was the special field of his labors ; but he designed to make of the whole earth a spiritual Jerusalem, in which every heart should be a temple, every soul filled with divine love, and every inhabitant a devout worshipper. It is true that he went to a chosen people ; but Heaven has decreed that all tribes and kingdoms of the earth shall compose one vast empire, Jver which the authority of Jesus shall be estab- lished. The light of his holy example is destined to spread until it illumines the islands, shines upon the con- THE GREAT EXAMPLE. 365 tinents of the earth, and dissipates the moral darkness that has so long enveloped the nations. ■And, though the Saviour is not now personally with us, yet his spirit is here, dwelling in the hearts of his followers, hovering over the pathway of every youthful disciple, and seeking to mould our characters in con- formity with the divine pattern which he has given. As he reflected the image of the Father in his life, conver- sation, teachings and acts of kindness, so he desires that we should reflect his image, and thus multiply copies of his life, and extend the usefulness of his mission. In presenting this great example, I address myself to those of you who have yielded to the power of the Saviour's love, and who are now girding on the Christian armor for the battle of life. Would that we might include you all in this class ! Would that we might see every young man in this community, not only avoiding the destructive vices against which you have been warned, but also personally interested in the atoning sacrifice of Christ, and striving to follow in his foot- steps ! In the first place, we should imitate Christ in the practical exhibition that he made, in his life, of his system of truth. It is true that we are justified by faith ; but it is equally true that faith without works is dead. It has in it no vitality, no lifegiving or saving power. In look- ing over the Christian community, we have reason to fear that there is much dead faith in what profess to be living chui .hes. Many called disciples of Jesus seem 31* * 366 LECTURES TO YOTJNG MEN. more anxious to keep their articles of faith pure than their own hearts pure, more careful about retaining the form of sound words in their creeds than the reality of sound principles in their lives. We need, indeed, pure doctrine. We need to defend zealously the faith once delivered to the saints. To compromise with error in any of its forms, is the death of the church. To add to or take from the things written in this book, is to ex- punge our names from the book of life, and shut our- selves out of the holy city. But when we have embraced and defended the truth, our work as Christians is not done. These doctrines must w^ork their way down through the intellect into the heart. They must touch the afifections, arouse the sympathies, kindle the fires of a pure, holy devotion. They must strike their roots into the seat of life, if we would have them grow, and yield fruit, and put forth their leaves for the healing of the nations. The abstract principles of truth may be carefully stored in the intellect ; but, to have attractive power, they must be clothed with the vir- tues *)f a holy and benevolent life. The geologist may instruct us respecting the different formations and strata of rocks of which the crust of the earth is composed; but, in order to have the scenery attractive, these rocks must be covered with verdure, smiling fields, waving forests and fragrant flowers. Christ, as we have already intimated, has furnished us with a sublime system of moral truth, — a system that throws into the shade all others, that renders all human wisdom contemptible, that illustrates all ancient divine utterances, that unravels IHE UEKAT EXAMPtB. 367 the mysteries of an early and obscure dispensation, and throws its light forward through philosophy, science and ethics ; — a system that culminated upon the summit of Calvary, and thence spread its effulgence over the moun- tains and plains of Judea. Yet Christ said, "To this end was I born, and for this cause came I into the world, that I might bear witness unto the truth." And what was that witness 7 The witness of a holy life, of a career of unparalleled. usefulnesg, of miracles having the double purpose of testimony and immediate good. And, though he came to work out a great scheme of redemption, ^- though his crucifixion, resurrection and ascension, are the great facts in his history, — yet no opportunity of doing good was so insignificant as to escape his notice, no person was so obscure as to lose his blessing. Be- hold him entering the abode of affliction, sitting by the side of the dying, pointing the penitent upward to the star of hope, restoring the blind to sight, the sick to health, the dead to life. Hear him, as he passes from city to city, and from village to village, uttering the sub- lime declaration, "I must work the work of Him that sent me while it is day ; for the night cometh, in which no man can work ! " "I must work while it is day ! " Sublime utterance! The very words seem vital with power ! They were ever before Christ, guiding him as a cloud by day and a pillar of fire by night. No dis- couragements, no wearipess, no ingratitude in the objects of his kindness, could stop him. in his career of useful- ness. Like the sun in the heavens, he moved steadily and majestically forward, causing the light of his holy 368 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. example to shine upon the evil and the good, and bestow- ing his blessing upon the just and the unjust. And there comes to each of us a message, "Work while it is day." From the providential openings for usefulness around us, — from the battle-fields of conflict- ing moral principles, where error is wrestling with truth, where vice is grappling with virtue, — there come voices calling upon Zion to awake and put on her strength. And, while there is such intense zeal manifested in every department of worldly enterprise, while inventions in the arts and discoveries in the sciences are crowding upon us in such numbers, while the tide of civilization is rising and extending, while moral questions are swaying po- litical action, and the claims of humanity are pressed upon us by multitudes making no pretensions to a re- ligious faith, the church cannot remain inactive without losing its power, as well as its title to discipleship. Its doctrines may be ably defended, its external worship inay be preserved, its forms and rites may be scrupu- lously observed, — but what the world demands, in order to feel the force of religion, is living examples of its principles. The spirit of Him who went about doing good must constitute the life of the church. " In the process of resuscitation," says one, " we think any signs of life are better than death ; and even the most convul- sive and irregular movements of the limbs are deemed far better than the decent and the garnished laying-out of a corpse. Jesus Chuist never intended that his church should attract the _attejition of the world by a pomp of lying in state." She must burst her cofiSn-lid, and come THE GREAT EXAMPLE. 369 forth. She must shake herself from the dust, and arise and shine. Then will she go forward fair as the moon, clear as the sun, and terrible as an army with banners. In the next place, we must imitate Christ as he appears before us in his daily life, in order to fully develop our individual power, and exert a holy influ- ence. A church-membership does not necessarily render one an efficient laborer in the Lord's vineyard. Our effi- ciency and positive usefulness must result from what is within, rather than from any associate relations or exter- nal circumstances. The courage of an army is the cour- age that is in the individual hearts of the soldiers. Its force lies in the muscle and strength of each member. Its leader may have skill, valor and ambition. The army may be numerically great! Its armor may be costly and brilliant. The banners may sparkle with rich gems as they float in the breeze. Thousands of bayonets may flash in the sunlight, and manly forms and waving plumes and solid columns may present an impos- ing spectacle. And yet, without energy beneath this armor, without hearts beating with loyalty and bravery, all that is external 'will be of no avail in the hour of conflict. The primitive disciples were efiective and successful because they were individual forces. They felt the importance and necessity of a personal religious culture. They knev that they served a Master who could read the heart, as well as observe the conduct. They knew, too, that the opposition arrayed against them could not 370 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. be oveDJonie by any mere show of resistance. There must be a vitality in the faith, and genuine, force in the religion, that was. to make progress in such, an age : and among such a people. And the liability to fall at any moment a martyr to the truth, took away all temptation to cling simply to the semblance of religion. Hypocrisy, in that day, held out no prizes to its votaries. Besides, these disoiples'had been under the direct tuitioif of the great master-spirit of personal use- fulness — the divine exemplar -of virtue, holiness, benev-; olence. They had listened to his command, not simply to.believe on him and trust in him, but to follow him : " If any man will come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me." That word^ follmo is full of meaning. It involves an intense per^ sonal activity, a self-consecration, a devotion to the cause of Christ, that knows no limit, that stops at no obstacle, that abates amid no discouragements, that burns on, with a steady flame, while life lasts. Indeed, in the same breath with which Christ uttered the declaration just quoted,. - he added,- " For whosoever will save his life shall lose it ; but whosoever will lose his life for my sake the same shall save it." That is, everything, «ven to life itself, must be consecrated upon his altar. His disciples must be as ready to face death as to perform any other Chris- tian duty. They must learn that the way to save life is to lose it for Christ's sake^ A band of disciples follow- ing the Saviour in this sense, must necessarily be invin- cible. The word retreat is never heard in their ranks. They can die, but they cannot yield. And a force thus THE GREAT EXAMPLE. 871 made up of an aggregate of forces, a courage that flowed ,from many courageous hearts, was mighty, through God, to the pulling down of the strongholds of sin. It shook Jerusalem, with all its power, and pomp, and ancient glory. It travelled over the Holy Land, leaving its mark and scattering its blessings wherever it went. It visited distant shores, and spread the new religion among the civilized nations of the earth. The history of the church furnishes many "illus- trious examples of individual power. The inquiry made by St. Paul, at the moment of his conversion, was sig- nificant,, and, I may add, symbolical. No sooner had the gospel touched his heart than he asks, "Lord, what wilt thou have me to do 1 " And it is an earnest, as well as a devout spirit, that asks the question. It is a mind accustomed to activity, a- soul that has. felt the warmth of zeal. The love of Christ fills his heart, fires his intellect, stirs his strongest aifections and noblest aspirations, thrills every nerve and sensibility, and he cries out, " Lord, what wilt thou h^e me to do?" Lay before me my work. Point out the path of duty. My energies, the whole force of my soul, my life, are at thy service. And, as he pursued his brilliant career, how noble were the utterances that fell from his lips! " I count all things as loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord." " Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended ; but this one thing I do, — forgetting those things that are behind and reajChing. forth unto those things that are before, I press towards the mark for the prize." "Neither count I my 372 LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. life dear unto myself, so that I might finish my course with joy." Such were the sentiments and emotions that inspired him and urged him forward. He counted aR things as loss. The prizes of human ambition, the treas- ures of wealth, the pleasures of the passing hour, — what were these to a soul that had tasted the excellency of Christ ? He lived above the world, — above its maxims, its threats, its flatteries. He* had, too, a rare combination of qualities that all contributed to enhance his individual power. He had learning, energy, enthusiasm, — a love for Christ that nothing could destroy, a zeal that no water could quench or floods drown. His epistles show how deeply his soul was imbued with the truth as it is in Jesus ; how he delighted to meditate upon the great doctrines of our faith, upon redemption, sanctification, and the life and immortality brought to light in the gospel. His life is a living epistle, known and read of all men. It is read to-day by tens of thousands throughout Christendom. Its influence has gJlhvn with the growth, and extended with the extension, of Christianity. It is felt upon indi- vidual minds, in our pulpits, churches and Sabbath- schools, — in the home of aifliction, in the abodes of pov- erty, by the bedside of the dying saint. It rolls along as a swelling stream from generation to generation, bearing blessings to millions of the human family. The beacon-lights which this earnest apostle kindled on the shores and islands of the .Mediterranean will never go out. They will be the nations' guides to Calvary and the cross till time shall be no more. THE GREAT EXAMPLE. 373 We feel, also, the individual power of the patriarchs, prophets, and the other apostles, whose names are asso- ciated with the great doctrines of revelation, and whose lives exemplified the principles which they embraced. In the career of Abraham we have a vivid example of the power of faith. We see this principle in action, sus- taining a soul under the most trying circumstances, and producing confidence in God in a season of the deepest perplexity and darkness. In the history of Job we are taught the virtue of patience. His submission under severe trials and repeated calamities is a lesson to all, to recognize an overruling Providence in every event, and to exercise fortitude under the heaviest afflictions. The piety of Enoch, who walked with God, shines over the wastes of ages, and illumines our pathway. We feel the influence of his intercourse with Jehovah, and are stimu- lated to seek the society of the Infinite One. The wor- ship of David increases our devotion. The echo of the songs of Zion, which he sung in his palace, is heard, to-day, in every Christian church. The praises which he ofiered to Jehovah are repeated in the notes of every organ, and in the melody of every choir. We feel, also, the influence of Moses, Elijah, Isaiah, Peter, John, and of all the master-spirits whose eminent piety and heroic achievements are recorded by the pen of inspira- tion. And the same obligations to exert a personal influence, and set a holy example, rest upon us, that rested upon them. If, as the apostle assures us, " None of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself"— if each day of our lives is a page in a book of revelation that m 374 ■ LECTUKES TO TOTJNG MEN. is read by multitudes,— how important that " tLe truth aa it is in Jesus " be stamped upon it,. and that it be lumi- nous with holy principles ! IIow important that we pre- sent before others a character that shall recommend the excellence and beauties of religion, that shall elucidate, at the bar of their understandings, the doctrines of the gospel, that shall be a standing protest against their sins and impenitence ! If we are the constituted lights of the world, shall we not shine 1 Of what service would the sun be in the heavens, if its rays did not reach us, — if its light had not the power to dissipate the darkness, and call the earth from the tomb of night to the blessedness of day 1 Of what service are the followers of Christ, unless they have the power to roll away the moral darkness of the world, — unless they let their light so shine before men, that they, seeing their good works, may be led to glorify their Father in heaven? The position of influence "occu- pied by. each individual is such as cannot be contem- "plated without impressions of vast responsibility. " It is," says one, " as if the whole universe were one picture- gallery, in some part of which the entire history of the world and of each individual is shown on canvas, sketched by countless artists, with unerring skill. It is as if each man had his foot upon the point where ten thousand telegraphic wires meet from every part of the universe, and he were able, with each volition, to send abroad an influence along these wires, so as to reach every created being in heaven and in earth. It is as if we were liaked to every created being by a golden chain, THE GREAT EXAMPLE. 875 and every pulsation of our heart or movement of our mind, modified the pulsation of every other heart and the movements of every other intellect." Holding such a position of power, no Christian can be indifferent to the character of his daily influence. He is bound by the most solemn obligations to imitate the great example which his divine Master has placed before him, and to consecrate all his energies to the service of God. In the next place, we must follow Christ in order to obtain the mastery over the 'principles of the world. Those who enlist under the great Captain of our salvation are commanded to overcome the world; and the very command implies that they have force ade- quate to obey. This is, indeed, accomplished, in the estimation of some, when the church withstands the influences of the world, and prevents itself from being- overcome. But, for the followers of Christ to simply retain their faith and occupy their own* citadels, is not to advance and obtain conquests. An army may preserve its ranks unbroken, and resist the most violent assaults, but this is not overcoming the- foe. The church, to fulfil this command, must be aggressive in its movements. It must master the principles of the world, control its sentiments, and take possession of its re- sources in the name and for the sake of Christ. It must give laws to society, not receive them from society ; must create a public opinion that shall be sound, scriptural, and such as Heaven shall approve. The great contro- versy now in Christendom is, whether the church or the world shall work that mighty instrumentality, pub- 376 ' LECTURES TO YOUNG MEN. lie opinion. The world says that its laws shall be in the ascendency, that its maxims and usages shall mould public sentiment. It will, indeed, patronize a certain kind of religion — a religion that will not interfere with its vices, that will not assail its established systems of iniquity. It will support a religion that is furnished with a sliding-seale of morality and humanity, that can be raised or lowered as circumstances or expediency may require.. But the members of the true church, in proportion as they reflect the image of Christ, assert and maintain the authority of their own principles. They feel that it is their mission to overcome the world. They are ready tc obey the command, " Be not conformed to the world, bul be ye transformed by the renewing of your mind.'' They believe the declarations, " Ye cannot serve God and Mammon." "Whosoever will be a friend of the world te the enemy of God." They will not, therefore, kneel before the world, to crave its favors and invoke its patronage. They will not allow the world to write theii creeds, nor draw up their articles of faith, nor impose upon them a code of ethics defining the province of con- science, and the limitation of man's obligations to God. They take Christ as their leader, his principles as their guide. They prepare themselves in earnest for the con- flict. It is not their purpose to make merely a show of resistance. They do not gird themselves for a sham fight. They enter the field having on the whole armor of God, — the shield of faith, the helmet of salvation, and the sword of the Spirit. They anticipate a severe THE flKEAT EXAMPLE. 377 and protracted struggle. They hear the voice of their great Captain stimulating them with the promises, "Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give thee a crown of life; " "Him that overcometh shall sit with me on my throne ; " " Him that overcometh will I make a pillar in the temple of my God, and he shall go no more out." And how delightful it is to see conquests obtained by the force of Christian characters eminent in every virtue ! How delightful to behold a company of young disciples closely following in the footsteps of their divine Master, striving to impress the world by examples of holiness and benevolence ! Why is k, I would ask, that the church has obtained so few signal victories over the world ? .Why is it that there is still so much practical infidelity in Christian lands, so many wicked institutions in civilized communi- ties, so much that is unjust, inhuman and cruel, in what is called refined society 1 Must we not admit that the Christian church has not a character that has spiritual force enough to overcome the world ? It has not benev- olence enough to subdue this inhumanity. It has not faith enough to overcome the surrounding scepticism. A winter's sun has not power to warm the earth; and hence the ground is hardened by the frosts, and the rivers are congealed, and the rain is turned into ice, and chills every object upon which it falls. All around is barren- ness, desolation and death, — death wrapped in its snowy winding-sheet. But, as the sun rises higher in the heavens, and pours its rays more directly and intensely upon the world, the scene changes. The icy cliffs are 82* 378 LECTURES TO TOtTNG MEH. melted, and are converted into refreshing rivers. Vege- tation springs up. Flowers blossom, and fruits take the place of barrenness. So let tbe members of Christ's church rise higher in spirituality, and shine upon the moral world, and the effects would be equally marked and delightful. The icy chains of infidelity, that hold such multitudes in the bondage of sin, would be melted. Cold hearts would feel the warmth of humanity. The avaricious man would pity the destitute. The intense selfishness of the exchange would relent, and symptoms of the presence of love to one's neighbor would be dis- cernible in the marts of commerce. Men who are selling their souls to gain the world would begin to see that such business will .not profit them. The public opinion would be sanctified, and would be found- on the side of right, truth, humanity, love to man and reverence for God. Finally, we must follow -Christ here, that we may rejoice and reign with him hereafter. I have spoken to you of the interests of time. I wish now to point you to the vast and solemn interests of eternity. We are about to separate. We shall not all meet again in this sanctuary. As time rolls on, we shall, one after another, retire from this busy theatre, and the places that now know us will know us no more forever. Kindly have you listened to the words which I have spoken for your benefit. These Sabbath evenings that we have spent together I shall always remember with interest and gratitude. But, 0, shall we all meet again? Shall we meet on that great day when Christ shall appear in his glory with all the holy an^ls? THE GREAT EXAMPLE. 379 Shall we, witli the mtiltitudes of the redeemed, partici- pate in the services of that triumphal occasion, and he permitted to cast our crowns at the Saviour's feet? Shall we together walk the streets of the new Jerusalem, gaze upon the splendors of the eternal city, and mingle our voices in the songs of thanksgiving that will ascend to " Him that sitteth upon the throne and to the Lamb " ? 0, if we are faithful to Christ here, he will be faithful to us hereafter ! In the dying hour we shall be able to say, " I know that my Kedeemer hveth." We shall exclaim, in the language of the great apostle, " I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the righteous Judge shall give me at that day." " How happy are the souls above. From sin and sorrow free ! Wiih Jesus they are now at rest. And all his glory see. " ' Worthy the Lamb ! ' aloud they cry. That brought us near to God ; In ceaseless hymns of praise they shout The virtues of his blood. " Sweet gratitude Inspires their songs, Ambitious to proclaim. Before the Father's awful throne. The honors of the Lamb. ' ' With wondering joy t^ey recollect ~ Their fears and dangers past. And bless the wisdom, power and love. Which brought them safe at last 380 LECTURES TO XOUNG MEN. " Lord, let the merit of thy death To me he likewise given, And I, -with them, mil shout thy praise Through all the courts of heaven." ^ Cornell University Library arV15508 Lectures on the formation of character 3 1924 031 320 165 olin.anx