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6,  2-  .'c;. 


^  PRINCETON,  N.  J.  *^^ 


Presented    by 

£ 

7~454r~^J36  1357 


"pT-S/axcK^^V  \-^a\Wa^ 


John  Angell,  1785- 

:e  young  man  s  friend  and 

.,^/:^.  --hrni-ah  life  to    


COII^TENTS. 


rAos. 

The  Young  Man  Preparing  for  Life,  .  .  .9 

The  Young  Man  Entering  on  Life,       ...  35 

The  Young  Man  Undecided  in  his  Religious  Character,  .        60 

The  Young  Man  Possessing  a  Defective  Amiability,           ,  95 

The  Young  Man  Perplexed  by  Religious  Controversy,  .       124 

The  Young  Man  Recommended  to  Contemplate  the  Character 

of  Joseph,    .  .  •  .  .158 

The  Young  Man  Advised  to  Study  the  Book  of  Proverbs,         .    .186 

The  Young  Man  Succeeding  or  Failing  in  Business,  215 

The  Young  Man  Emigrating  to  a  Foreign  Land,         .  .       243 

The  Young  JVl^n  Disappointing  or  Realising  the  Hopes  of  Parents,  27Q 

The  Young  Man  Impressed  with  the  Importance  of  the  Age  ""01 

The  Young  Man  Dying  Early,  or  Living  to  Review  Life  in  Old 

Age,    .  .  .  .  .  330 


^>M  \ 


^j^  ^^bM>^ 


THE 


YOUIfG  MAN'S  FRIEND 


€ttik  tljruitgl  fife  to  |mmoi1iilitT[. 


JOHN   ASGELL   JAMES, 

»THOR    or  THE  *'T0UNG  WOMAN'S  FRIEND,"    "  ANXIOUS  ENOUIRER,"    "  C0O«81 

OF   FAITH,"    "christian   DUTY,"    "CHRISTIAN   PROFESSOR,'* 

"  CHRISTIAN   FATHER'S  PRESENT,"    ETC. 


WITH   AN   INTRODUCTION 

BY  THOMAS  DE   WITT,  D.D. 


NEW  YORK: 

ROBERT  CARTER  Sz,    BROTHERS. 

No.    5  30    BROADWAY. 

1857. 


INTKODUCTION. 


The  name  of  John  Angell  James  is  extensively  and 
most  favorably  known  to  the  Christian  community, 
by  his  successful  labors  in  the  ministry  of  the  Gospel, 
and  his  various  writings  of  great  practical  excellence, 
which  have  been  very  widely  circulated,  and  have 
proved  eminently  useful.  Perhaps  there  are  few 
living  more  embalmed  in  the  respect  and  grateful 
affection  of  the  various  sections  of  the  Christian 
Church.  With  his  advancing  years  he  is  still  "  bring- 
ing forth  fruit"  by  his  active  labors,  and  recurring 
publications  from  the  press  peculiarly  adapted  to  do 
good.  His  works  have  been  largely  spread  in  Great 
Britain  and  America,  and  a  number  of  them  have 
been  translated  into  several  languages.  The  titles  of 
the  prominent  ones  at  once  recur  to  the  memory,  as 
"  The  Christian  Father'^s  Present  to  his  Children^^ 


IV  INTRODUCTION. 

"  Family  Monitor^''  "  Christian  Chafity^''  "  The 
Anxious  Enquirer ^"^  "  An  Earnest  Ministry^''  "  The 
Church  in  Earnest^''  "  The  Widoio  Directed  to  th^ 
Widow's  God^^  "  Pastoral  Addresses^'  "  The  Young 
Man  from  Home^"  "  The  Christian  Professor^''  &c. 
Several  of  these  may  be  numbered  among  oui 
Christian  classics  in  their  admirable  adaptation  to 
the  ends  they  have  in  view,  rendering  their  general 
diffusion  desirable,  while  it  would  be  hardly  practica- 
ble to  supply  the  place  they  occupy  by  any  from  other 
sources. 

There  is  in  all  of  the  works  of  Mr.  James  a  trans- 
parent clearness  of  statement  and  discussion,  a  flow- 
ing ease  of  style,  a  felicity  of  illustration,  an  earnest- 
ness of  spirit,  and  a  pungency  of  appeal,  combined 
with  the  soundness  of  evangelical  sentiment,  im- 
bedded in  deep  experience  and  holy  practice.  These 
have  imparted  a  charm  and  influence  to  them  which 
have  made  them  a  blessing  amid  the  Churches. 
This  volume  is  the  last  one  published  by  the  esteemed 
author,  and  comprises  the  matter  of  a  series  of  dis- 
courses preached  by  him  from  his  own  pulpit.  It 
was  issued  from  the  British  press  in  the  latter  part  of 
the  past  year.  On  perusing  it  I  was  strongly  im- 
pressed with  its  value  as  beyond  any  that  I  could  re- 
collect to  attract  the  attention,  and  elicit  the  interest 


INIRODUCTION. 


of  the  young  men  into  whose  hands  it  might  fall,  and 
prove  profitable  to  them  in  reference  to  their  best  in- 
terests for  time  and  eternity.  Two  of  Mr.  James's 
former  publications  had  particular  respect  to  the 
young,  but  he  has  here  struck  out  a  path  with  a 
wider  range,  bringing  in  the  various  circumstances 
and  positions  of  life  in  connection  with  the  formation 
of  character  and  guidance  through  life.  While  the 
texture  of  the  whole  volume  is  interwoven  with  the 
delineation  of  true  religion  as  the  grand  spring  and 
safe-guard  of  happiness,  and  holiness,  and  the  salva- 
tion of  the  soul,  the  great  interest  of  time  in  prepara- 
tion for  eternity,  it  is  filled  with  the  counsels  and 
lessons  of  wisdom  for  the  practical  conduct  of  life. 
The  titles  of  several  of  the  chapters  will  arrest  atten- 
tion, as  "  The  Character  of  Josejph^''  "  The  Study  of 
the  Booh  of  Proverhs^'^  "  Failing  in  Business^'* 
"  The  Young  Man  Imjpressed  with  the  Imjportance 
of  the  Age  in  which  he  Lives^''  &c.  As  a  whole  it 
appears  to  me  specially  fitted  for  usefulness  as  to  its 
object  in  view,  the  temporal  and  spiritual  benefit  of 
young  men.  Exposed  as  they  are  to  a  thousand  snares 
in  the  morning  of  life,  when  the  character  is  to  be 
moulded  and  formed,  how  valuable  would  this  volume 
prove  in  their  hands,  as  a  vade  mecum^  and  referred 
to  as  a  monitor  and  guide.     It  has  been  received 


▼i  INTRODUCTION. 

witli  mucli  acceptance  by  the  religious  public  of  Great 
Britain,  and  is  very  favorably  noticed  in  the  I'eligious 
periodicals.  I  rejoice  at  its  republication  here,  and 
hope  it  will  meet  with  ample  patronage.  It  is  under- 
stood that  Mr.  James  has  now  in  preparation  a  simi 
lar  volume  addressed  to  "  Young  Women."  I  trust 
the  success  of  the  volume  now  published  will  urge 
Mr.  Randolph  to  republish  the  proposed  one  as  soon 
as  it  issues  from  the  British  press. 

THOMAS  DE  WITT. 
Nkw-Yoek  May  1, 1852 


PEEFACE. 


I  INSCRIBE  this  volume  to  every  young  man  who  by  tha 
prompting  of  his  own  mind,  or  by  the  pei-suasion  of  others, 
shall  be  induced  to  peruse  it.  To  every  such  youth,  I  say, 
with  all  seriousness  and  eai-nestness,  ponder  well  its  title. — 
"  The  Young  MarCs  Friend  and  Guide  through  Life  to  Im- 
mortality r  Do  you  desire  a  Mend  ?  I  offer  myself :  and  I 
believe  you  will  find  me  to  be  such  in  these  pages.  Do  you 
need  a  guide  through  life,  with  all  its  duties,  temptations, 
and  perplexities  ?  I  am  willing  to  perform  for  you  this 
service :  and  I  dare  pledge  the  truth,  power,  and  love  of  God, 
that  if,  by  his  grace  sought  by  faith  in  Christ  and  fervent 
prayer,  you  follow  the  directions  here  laid  down,  you  will  rise 
to  respectability,  usefulness,  and  comfort,  in  this  world,  and  to 
everlasting  happiness  in  the  next. 

Eternal  and  Almighty  God — thou  source  of  light,  love,  and 

purity,  who  didst  send  forth  thy  seraphim  with  a  coal  from  off 

thine  altar,  to  purify  the  prophet's  lips ;  and  thine  Holy  Spirit 

like  cloven  tongues  of  flame  upon  the  heads  of  apostles  ;  and 

who  art  still  willing  to  grant  wisdom  to  all  that  seek  it  through 
1* 


Vlll  PREFACE. 

the  meditation  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  send  down  thy  bless- 
ing upon  the  youth  of  our  age  and  nation ;  and  grant  in  thy 
great  mercy  that  many  of  them  may  by  this  volume  be  guided 
in  safety  through  the  dangers  of  this  sinful  world  ;  and  led,  by 
patient  continuance  in  well-doing,  to  glory,  honor,  and  immor- 
tality in  the  world  to  come.     Amen. 


PREPARATION  FOR  LIFE. 


"  Let  thine  eyes  look  right  on,  and  let  thine  eye-lids  look  straight 
before  thee.  Ponder  the  path  of  thy  feet,  and  let  all  thy  ways  be 
established."— Proverbs  iv.  25,  26. 

You  cannot  be  ignorant,  Young  Men,  that  I  have  felt  a 
great  solicitude  for  your  moral  and  spiritual  welfare,  and 
have  taken  some  pains  to  promote  it.  I  say,  your  moral  and 
spiritual  welfare,  for  in  an  age  like  the  present,  when  educa- 
tion is  so  much  improved,  and  so  widely  extended  ;_when  the 
discoveries  of  science,  and  the  inventions  of  art,  have  been  so 
rapidly  multiplied,  and  the  means  of  kno\^ing  them  have 
been  placed  so  entirely  within  the  reach  of  the  multitude  ; 
there  is  a  danger  lest  that  which  is  moral  and  spiritual 
should  be  neglected  amidst  the  attention  to  that  which  ia 
merely  intellectual — lest  talents  should  be  appreciated  more 
highly  than  virtues — and  general  knowledge  be  more  eagerly 
sought  than  that  which  is  religious.  Yet  it  must  be  obvious 
to  you  upon  reflection,  that  happiness,  even  for  this  world, 
to  say  nothing  of  the  next,  depends  much  more  upon  the 
state  of  the  heart  and  the  practice  of  the  life,  than  upon  the 
exclusive  culture  of  the  understanding.  Not  that  they  are 
antaoronistic  to  one  another.     None  but  infidels   or  weak 


10  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S   FRIEND. 

minded  Christians  will  ever  attempt  to  set  piety  and  science 
at  variance.  They  are  neither  enemies  nor  aliens,  but 
friends  ;  and  are  reciprocally  helpful  to  each  other. 

Under  the  influence  of  this  anxiety  to  promote  your  moral 
and  spiritual  well-being,  I  have,  in  the  course  of  my  minis 
try,  addressed  to  you  several  courses  of  plain  and  practical 
discourses.  I  have  been  rewarded  for  this  "  labor  of  love," 
by  the  attention  with  which  they  have  been  received,  and 
the  benefit  which  I  believe  they  have  imparted,  and  am 
thus  induced  to  continue  the  practice,  and  invite  your 
serious  and  meditative  attention  to  the  following  course  of 
subjects. 

I.  "  The  Young  Man  preparing  for  Life." 

II.  *'  The  Young  Man  entering  on  Life." 

in.  "  The  Young  Man  undecided  in  his  Religious  Cha- 
racter." 

lY.  ''  The  Young  Man  possessing  a  Defective  Amiability." 

V.  "  The  Young  Man  perplexed  by  Religious  Contro 
versy." 

VL  "  The  Young  Man  recommended  to  contemplate  the 
Character  of  Joseph." 

VII.  ''  The  Young  Man  advised  to  study  the  Book  of 
Proverbs." 

VIII.  "  The  Young  Man  succeeding  or  failing  in  busi- 
ness." 

IX.  "  The  Young  Man  emigrating  to  a  Foreign  Land." 

X.  ''  The  Young  Man  disappointing  or  realizing  the 
Hopes  of  Parents." 

XL  "  The  Young  Man  impressed  with  the  Importance  of 
the  Age." 

XII.  *'  The  Young  Man  dying  early,  or  living  to  review 
Life  in  Old  Age." 


PREPARATION  FOR  LIFE.  1] 

You  will  perceive  at  once  that  these  subjects  are  all  of  an 
entirely  practical  character.  Speculation  and  controversy 
are  with  one  exception  both  excluded  ;  and  even  doctrinal 
matter  is  but  sparingly  introduced.  Not  that  these  things 
are  unimportant  or  unnecessary  in  proper  place,  but  they  do 
not  come  within  the  comprehension  of  my  design.  I  am  a 
practical  man,  and  am  most  at  home  on  practical  subjects ; 
and  at  the  same  time,  that  I  believe  holiness  is  founded  upon 
truth,  and  that  Christian  duties  are  drawn  from  Christian 
doctrines,  and  are  to  be  enforced  by  them,  I  am  still  of 
opinion,  that  what  is  practical  will  be  more  for  your  edifica- 
tion than  what  is  theoretical  or  controversial.  Speculation, 
novelty,  and  dry  criticism,  or  thorny  controversy,  will,  per- 
haps, have  a  less  beneficial  influence  upon  your  future 
character  and  happiness,  than  the  subjects  contained  in  this 
course. 

My  first  sermon  is  on  Preparation  for  Life.  We  often 
preach  on  preparation  for  death  ;  and  most  momentous,  most 
necessary  that  is — but  we  too  much  neglect  to  preach  on 
preparation  for  life.  And  yet  how  incumbent  is  such  a 
subject,  both  for  our  discussion  and  your  serious  considera- 
tion. 

The  passage  of  Scripture  placed  at  the  head  of  this  dis- 
course is  much  in  point.  It  is  selected  from  a  portion  of 
Scripture  which  is  of  incalculable  value,  and  which  proves 
that  the  Bible  is  a  book  not  only  to  make  men  wise  unto 
salvation  through  faith  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus,  but  to  serve 
as  an  admirable  guide  to  them  in  their  passage  through  this 
life,  and  in  reference  to  the  temporalities  of  their  condition  : 
a  book  not  only  to  form  the  saint  and  the  devotee,  but  the 
tradesman,  the  parent,  and  the   member  of  domestic  and 


12  THE    YOUNG    MAN'S    FRIEND. 

social  life.  To  this  I  shall  call  your  attention  on  a  futuri 
occasion,  and  devote  a  discourse  to  the  consideration  of  it. 

In  the  passage  I  have  selected,  you  will  at  once  perceive 
that  a  habit  of  consideration  and  forethought  is  inculcated. 
We  must  not  only  consider  the  past  by  looking  hack^  nor  the 
present  by  looking  round ^  but  the  future  by  looking  on.  All 
these  are  important — we  must  look  back  to  consider  what  we 
have  done  that  we  should  not  have  done ;  what  we  have  not 
not  done  that  we  should  have  done  ;  and  what  we  have 
done  well,  that  we  might  have  done  better  ;  that  thus  from 
the  past,  we  may  draw  lessons  for  the  future.  It  is  true 
that  in  your  case  so  short  a  space  of  life  has  yet  been  passed 
over,  as  to  afford  comparatively  few  materials  for  reflection, 
and  little  aid  for  your  future  guidance.  But  even  youth  has 
something  to  look  back  upon,  and  the  practice  of  retrospec- 
tion cannot  be  adopted  too  early.  It  is  well  to  begin  life 
with  the  formation  of  a  habit  of  self-scrutiny  and  self- 
accountability. 

We  must  also  consider  well  the  present,  because  there  is 
always  some  duty  now  to  be  done,  the  doing  of  which  is  our 
immediate  business,  which  no  reflection  on  the  past,  and  no 
anticipation  of  the  future,  should  lead  us  to  neglect.  Still, 
however,  we  must  let  our  "  eyes  look  on,  and  our  eyelids 
look  straight  before  us."  We  have  not  only  memory,  but  a 
certain  measure  of  prescience.  True,  we  cannot  look  into 
futurity,  so  as  to  ascertain  particular  events,  but  we  can  an- 
ticipate general  conditions  ;  and  it  is  a  mark  of  a  well- 
governed  mind  to  anticipate  as  far  as  possible  the  future. 
We  should  consider  what  in  all  probability  is  to  happen  tc 
us,  and  prepare  for  it.  Young  people  are  not  unapt  to  look 
forward,  but  it  is  rather  in  a  sentimental  and  romantic,  than 
in  a  practical  manner,  and  as  an  exercise  of  the  imagination 


PREPARATION    FOR    LIFE.  13 

rather  than  of  the  judgment.  Be  thoughtful,  then,  and  let 
your  thoughtfulness  have  respect  to  the  future.  "  Let  your 
eyelids  look  straight  on  ;  and  ponder  the  ways  of  your  feet." 

There  is  a  world  of  practical  wisdom  in  some  single 
terms ;  among  them  is  that  momentous  term,  Prepare. 
How  many  evils,  in  some  cases,  would  have  been  avoided, 
had  men  prepared  to  meet  them.  How  many  benefits  would 
have  been  secured,  had  men  prepared  to  appropriate  them. 
How  much  that  they  have  done  would  have  been  better  done 
if  they  had  prepared  to  do  it.  How  often,  already,  have 
you  had  regretfully  to  say,  "  I  wish  I  had  prepared  for  this." 
"Well,  then,  let  this  impress  you,  and  guide  you  for  the 
future.  Let  your  own  limited  experience  in  the  little  things 
which  have  yet  happened,  be  for  a  warning  to  prepare  you 
for  the  greater  ones  which  will  happen.  I  know  very  well 
that  the  opposite  evil  of  always  preparing  and  never  acting, 
which  is  the  case  with  some,  is  also  to  be  avoided.  There 
are  some  who  are  ever  getting  ready  to  act,  but  when  the 
moment  for  acting  arrives,  are  so  irresolute,  so  timid,  so 
procrastinating,  that  they  let  go  the  time  for  duty.  But  this 
is  by  much  the  rarer  case  of  the  two.  This  discourse,  then, 
meets  you  about  to  enter  on  life,  and  it  gives  out  to  you  the 
momentous  note  of  preparation. 

Preparation  is  often  half  the  doing ;  and  the  easier  part 
too.  Preparation  for  life  !  How  impressive  an  idea  !  Not 
for  one  particular  act,  or  scene,  or  engagement,  but  for  the 
whole  of  future  existence.  Life  !  How  much  is  included  in 
that  weighty  term.  A  love  of  life  is  an  instinct  of  our  na- 
ture, wisely  implanted  in  us  for  important  purposes  by  the 
Great  Author  of  our  existence.  It  was  the  lano-uao;e  of 
truth,  though  uttered  by  the  Father  of  Lies,  '^  Skin  for  skin, 
yea,  all  that  a  man  hath  will  he  give  for  his  life."     Surely, 


14  THE    YOJNG    man's    FRIEND. 

then,  if  it  be  incumbent  upon  us  to  prepare  for  everything 
else,  it  must  be  of  incalculable  moment  to  prepare  for  life 
since  it  is  the  most  valuable  thing  we  can  covet  or  possess. 

But  it  will  be  asked,  perhaps,  what  is  meant  by  preparing 
for  life  ?  By  this  then,  I  intend,  a  preparation  to  act  wel* 
our  part  upon  earth,  so  as  to  secure  to  ourselves  the  greatest 
measure  of  happiness  and  usefulness  in  this  world,  and  eter- 
nal happiness  in  the  world  to  come.  Preparing  to  live  suc- 
cessfully, religiously,  usefully,  and  happily — to  secure  to 
ourselves  the  promise  of  Grod  to  Abraham,  "  I  will  bless 
thee,  and  thou  shalt  be  a  blessing." 

The  injunction  to  prepare  for  life  implies  that  whatever 
constitutes  the  felicity  and  usefulness  of  life  must  be  matter 
of  choice,  pursuit,  and  labor ;  that  it  will  not  come  sponta- 
neously. This  is  very  true.  The  continuance  of  even  ex- 
istence itself,  is  not  independent  of  man's  own  volition,  ac- 
tion, and  preparation.  We  do  not  live  in  spite  of  ourselves, 
or  without  ourselves — the  vital  spark  at  first  communicated 
to  us  without  our  own  acting,  is  still  fed  and  sustained  hy 
our  own  action.  We  take  food  and  medicine,  and  wear 
clothes,  and  dwell  in  habitations,  to  preserve  life  ;  and  we 
must  manifest  no  less  solicitude,  and  put  forth  no  less  effort, 
to  secure  the  blessings  of  life.  It  depends  very  much  upon 
every  man's  own  choice  and  labor,  how  life  is  to  turn  out. 

To  spend  life  in  happiness  and  usefulness,  we  must  pre- 
pare in  the  early  stages  of  it,  for  what  is  future.  There  is 
no  truth  in  the  Platonic  notion  of  the  pre-existence  of 
human  souls.  We  cannot  in  another  and  an  antecedent 
state,  anticipate  our  existence  on  earth,  go  through  a  train- 
ing in  some  previous  world,  and  thus  learn  how  to  act  our 
part  here.  Such  an  advantage,  if  it  would  be  an  advantage, 
is  denied  us      We  can  have  no  previous  training  of  this 


PREPARATION  FOR  LIFE.  15 

kind,  but  must  come  into  life,  and  learn  as  we  go  on.  We 
must,  by  though tfulness,  and  observation,  and  experience, 
pick  up  knowledge  by  the  way.  This  wonderfully  increases 
the  peril  of  our  situation,  and  the  necessity  of  our  cultivat- 
ing and  exercising  a  reflective  and  cautious  habit.  Still, 
though  we  cannot  in  some  previous  state  of  existence  anti- 
cipate our  dwelling  and  conduct  upon  earth,  we  may  be 
trained  for  the  subsequent  stages  of  our  being,  by  the  con- 
duct pursued  in  the  earlier  ones.  We  cannot  first  live  to 
know  how  to  live,  but  we  can  be  educated  in  the  first  part 
of  life  for  what  is  future.  Boyhood  and  youth  are  life,  phy- 
sically considered,  as  well  as  manhood  and  old  age  ;  but  in- 
tellectually, morally,  and  socially  considered,  they  are  rather 
introductory  to  life,  than  life  itself.  I  am,  therefore,  in  this 
view  of  the  subject,  to  consider  the  preparatory  processes 
for  future  life.     Now  by  these  T  mean  : — 

First  of  all — Education.  I  am  aware  that  most  of 
those  whom  I  now  address,  will  have  passed  through  this 
already.  Yet  this  is  not  the  case  with  all,  and  the  subject 
is  so  important  that  I  must  say  a  few  things  upon  it.  Edu- 
cation includes  on  the  part  of  those  by  whom  it  is  con- 
ducted, not  only  instruction,  but  the  right  application  of 
knowledge  to  practical  purposes  ;  in  other  words,  the  forma- 
tion of  character.  This  is  beautifully  expressed  in  the  pro- 
verb :  "  Train  up  a  child  in  the  way  he  should  ^p."  Not 
merely  in  what  he  should  k^iow.,  but  in  the  way  he  should  go. 
This  should  ever  be  remembered  by  the  pupil  as  well  as  the 
teacher.  His  mind  is  of  course  to  be  stored  with  know- 
ledge, but  then  his  judgment,  heart,  will,  and  conscience, 
must  be  trained  to  act  morally  right.  The  term  of  school 
education  is  of  immense  consequence  to  future  life,  and 
should,  and  does,  lead  all  considerate  parents  most  anxiously 


THE  YOUNG   MAN  S  FRIEND. 


to  look  out  for  suitable  persons  with  wliom  to  entrust  tba 
education  of  their  children,  when  thej  are  no  longer  able  to 
educate  them  themselves  at  home.  But,  however,  judicious 
the  selection  of  a  teacher  may  be,  all  young  persons  should 
recollect  that  every  one  must,  to  a  certain  extent,  be  self^ 
educated.  It  remalas  with  themselves  to  determine  whether 
the  pains  bestowed  upon  them  shall  be  successful  or  fruit- 
less. It  is  not  in  the  power  of  man  or  woman,  or  all  men 
and  women  combined,  to  educate  a  young  person  if  he  will 
not  be  educated,  or  if  he  does  not  determine  to  be  well- 
trained.  The  intellect  is  not  a  cup  or  a  bottle  into  which 
knowledge  can  be  poured,  whether  the  mind  will  receive  it 
or  not ;  nor  is  the  heart  a  piece  of  passive  clay,  which  may 
be  shaped  at  will  by  the  teacher,  irrespective  of  the  will  of 
the  pupil.  No.  It  depends  on  yourselves  whether  you 
will  be  educated.  And  all  your  future  life,  for  time  and 
eternity,  depends  upon  your  education.  "  The  child  is 
father  of  the  man,"  and  education  forms  the  child.  What 
you  are  when  you  leave  school,  that  you  may  be  expected  to 
be  through  all  future  existence.  Would  that  I  could  im- 
press this  upon  all  young  persons  ;  would  that  I  could  lead 
them  to  look  forward,  especially  the  older  pupils,  and  con- 
sider themselves  as  entering  upon  life,  and  passing  through 
it,  and  then  ask  with  what  measure  of  knowledge,  and  with 
what  form  of  character,  they  would  fill  up  their  place  in  the 
great  community. 

Secondly. — Self-education  must  not  stopj  hut  he  con- 
sidered as  having  only  just  hegun  when  you  leave  school. 
You  must  still  carry  on  your  improvement  by  a  thirst  after 
knowledge,  a  studious  habit,  and  a  love  of  reading,  thinking, 
and  acc^uiring.  Books  must  be  your  companions,  and  if 
they  are  good  and  useful  ones,  they  will  be  your  most  profit- 


PREPARATION   FOR  LIFE.  17 

able  associates.  In  this  wonderful  age,  waen  knowledge  is 
eo  rapidly  and  extensively  widening  its  boundaries — when 
science  and  the  arts  are  ever  astonishing  us  with  new  dis- 
coveries, inventions,  triumphs,  and  wonders — when  they  are 
incorporating  themselves  with  all  the  practical  business  of 
life — when  to  be  ignorant  is  not  only  disgraceful  to  a  man's 
intellectual  reputation,  but  injurious  to  his  temporal  interests 
— when  to  have  any  weight  in  society,  he  must  know  ten 
times  as  much  as  his  grandfather  knew  before  bim, — and 
when  such  facilities  are  afforded  for  mental  improvement  no 
young  man  can  be  considered  as  preparing  well  for  life  who 
neglects  the  cultivation  of  his  intellect.  It  is  a  love  of 
knowledge,  young  men,  not  a  love  of  pleasure,  that  will  pre- 
pare you  to  act  well  your  part  in  life.  Understand  and  re- 
member this. 

But  Thirdi-y. —  The  acquisition  of  a  knowledge  of  some 
secular  callings  is  another  and  an  important  part  of  the 
preparatory  processes  of  life.  Most  of  those  whom  I  now 
address,  are  intended  for  business,  either  in  the  way  of 
manufacture,  trade,  or  one  of  the  professions,  and  are  already 
for  that  purpose  apprenticed,  articled,  or  hired  to  some  one 
who  is  to  teach  them  their  business — to  some  one  who  ought 
to  feel  himself  bound  by  every  principle  of  honor,  justice, 
and  religion,  to  teach  them  all  they  are  sent  to  him  to  learn. 
And  if  the  child  be  the  father  of  the  man,  so  it  is  equally 
true  that  the  apprentice  is  the  father  of  the  master.  What 
you  are  now  as  to  industry,  application,  and  ability,  in  your 
term  of  service  and  secular  education,  that  you  will  be  in  all 
probability  as  the  future  master.  Subordination  is  essentially 
necessary.  We  learn  to  command  by  first  learning  to  obey. 
t  is  of  immense  consequence  to  remember  this  ;  a  refractory^ 
Turbulent,  disobedient  apprentice  or  servant,  will  mc-st  pro- 


18  THE    YOUNG    MAN's    FRIEND. 

bably  make  a  capricious,  tyrannical,  and  ill-judging  master. 
The  apprentice  wbom  his  master  cannot  govern,  will  be  the 
master  who  cannot  govern  his  apprentice.  This  is  not  sim 
ply  one  of  the  retributions  of  Providence,  but  one  of  the 
natural  results  of  the  course  of  things.  The  great  principle 
which  has  given  to  Jesuitism  such  prodigious  power  in  past 
ages,  is  unhesitating  and  unlimited  obedience  to  a  superior. 
Heroes  have  usually  been  trained  in  the  school  of  obedience 
and  discipline.  So  our  most  thriving  tradesmen,  especially 
the  men  that  have  risen  to  a  high  situation,  have  first  served 
well  in  a  low  one.  But  when  I  recommend  submission  and 
obedience,  I  mean  that  which  springs  from  principle^  and  not 
merely  from  compulsion  and  fear.  In  this,  as  well  as  in 
everything  else,  you  should  do  that  which  is  right  to  be  done, 
because  it  is  right.  Call  in  your  judgment,  your  conscience, 
your  sense  of  propriety.  It  is  just,  good,  best,  to  obey  the 
authority  of  a  master.  The  principle  of  fear,  the  mere 
sense  of  compulsion,  will  be  a  bad  training.  T-he  slaves  of 
tyrants,  who  obey  only  from  dread  of  punishment,  often 
upon  their  emancipation  make  greater  tyrants  than  their 
own  former  ones.  A  character  cast  in  the  mould  of  fear 
must  be  a  misshapen  one.  As  to  capability  of  application, 
dispatch,  sagacity,  quickness,  perseverance  in  the  situation 
of  a  master,  you  must  get  all  these  while  learning  your  busi- 
ness as  an  apprentice.  If  not  learnt  then,  they  never  will 
be.  An  idle  apprentice  will  make  an  idle  master — a  plea- 
sure-loving youth  a  pleasure-loving  man.  On  the  other 
hand,  a  quick,  sharp,  clever  boy,  will  make  a  quick,  sharp, 
clever  tradesman.  Tell  me  what  the  apprentice  is,  and  1 
will  tell  you  what  the  master  will  be.  Be  diligent,  be  sub- 
missive, be  honest,  be  attentive  to  business.  Determine,  by 
God's  blessing,  to  excel.     Aim  to  be  eminent.     Do  not  be 


PREPARATION    FOR    LIFE.  19 

contented  with  dull  mediocrity.  Have  a  little  ambition  tc 
stand  well  and  to  rise  high.  A  clever,  industrious,  success- 
ful, religious  tradesmen,  is  an  ornament  to  his  town  and  his 
country.     Future  life  is  before  you,  prepare  for  it  thus. 

But  Fourthly. — I  should  be  defective  indeed,  if,  in 
speaking  of  the  preparatory  processes  of  life,  I  left  out  the 
formation  of  the  moral  and  religious  character.  I  have 
already  reminded  you  how  much  the  happiness  and  useful- 
ness of  life  depend,  even  in  this  world,  upon  the  formation 
of  character  generally  viewed — I  now  speak  of  the  religious 
character.  Genuine  religion,  the  parent  of  sound  morality — 
and  no  religion  is  genuine  that  does  not  produce  morality — 
is  the  surest  guide  to  success  in  this  world  ;  other  things  be- 
ing equal,  he  will  be  almost  certain  to  be  the  most  success- 
ful tradesman,  who  is  the  most  consistent  Christian.  And  as 
religion  is  the  best  guide  to  happiness  in  this  world,  it  is  the 
only  way  to  happiness  in  the  world  to  come.  It  has  been  a 
thousand  times  told  you,  on  the  authority  of  Holy  Writ,  that 
^'  godliness  is  profitable  for  all  things,  having  the  promise  of 
the  life  that  now  is,^^ — mark  that — as  well  as  of  "  that 
which  is  to  come."  Who  will  contradict  it  ?  Religion  will 
preserve  you  from  all  the  habits  that  tend  to  poverty  and 
misery,  and  put  you  in  possession  of  all  that  tend  to  wealth 
and  happiness.  Have  you  ever  studied,  for  I  would  not  so 
reflect  upon  you  as  to  suppose  you  have  never  read,  Solo- 
mon's exquisite  allegory,  in  which  he  so  beautifully  describes 
the  nature  and  consequences  of  true  religion  ?  *'  Happy  is 
tk&  man  that  fiTideth  wisdom.,  and  the  man  that  getteth  under- 
standing.  For  the  merchandise  of  it  is  better  than  the  mer- 
chandii^e  of  silver.,  and  the  gain  thereof  than  fine  gold.  Shi 
is  more  precious  than  rubies  ;  and  all  the  things  tho>^ 
canst  desire  are  not  to  be  compared  unto  her.     Length  of 


20  THE  YOUNG   MAN  S  FRIEND. 

days  is  in  her  right  hand  ;  and  in  her  left  hand,  riches  and 
honor.  Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her 
-paths  are  peace.  She  is  a  tree  of  life  to  them  that  lay  hold 
upon  her  ;  and  happy  is  every  one  that  retaineth  her.'''*  Proy. 
iii.,  13 — 18.  Now  the  wisdom  here  so  exquisitely  described, 
and  so  forcibly  recommended,  is  true  religion.  Who  will 
rise  up  to  say  that  religion  ruined  them  }  Ah  !  but  how 
many  millions  could  rise  up,  some  on  earth,  and  some  from 
hell,  to  say  they  were  ruined  for  want  of  it } 

If  the  formation  of  character  is  one  of  the  preparatory 
processes  of  life,  then  you  should  not  have  your  character  to 
establish,  your  principles  of  action  to  choose,  when  you 
want  them  to  use.  Your  rule  should  be  laid  down,  your 
standard  fixed,  your  purpose  formed,  when  you  begin  to  act. 
You  are  about  to  set  sail  on  the  perilous  ocean  of  life,  not  as 
a  passenger  merely,  but  as  a  captain  and  owner  of  the  ves- 
sel ;  and  should  you  not  have  learnt  navigation,  and  have 
prepared  a  chart  and  a  compass,  and  some  practical  skill 
how  to  use  both  .?  There  are  rocks  and  shoals  to  be 
avoided,  and  storms  and  contrary  winds  to  be  encountered, 
at  your  going  out  of  port.  Without  fixed  religious  princi- 
ples, and  established  moral  character,  you  may  be  wrecked 
in  going  out  of  harbor.  It  is  of  infinite  consequence 
that  the  fear  of  God — a  hatred  of  sin — an  apprehension  of 
judgment  to  come — should  be  in  you  before  you  embark. 
Remember,  therefore,  your  Creator  in  the  days  of  your 
youth.  Set  the  Lord  always  before  you.  Be  rooted  and 
grounded  in  the  love  of  Christ.  Be  a  young  disciple,  and 
then  you  are  ready  for  everything.  Religion  will  be  your 
guide  in  perplexity — your  shield  in  danger — ^your  companion 
in  solitude — ^jour  comfort  in  sorrow — your  defence  against 


PREPARATIOX   FOR  LIFE.  21 

temptation — and  if  it  be  genuine,  earnest,  and  consistent, 
will  not  fail  to  make  you  holy,  happy,  and  useful. 

Fifthly. — There  is  another  thing  I  would  most  earnestly 
enforce  upon  you  as  a  preparation  for  life,  and  that  is  a  deep 
impression  of  the  imjportance  of  hahit^  and  the  necessity  of 
forming  good  habits  while  young.  Among  the  words  of  our 
vocabulary  which  you  should  select,  as  having  a  greater  im- 
portance than  others,  and  as  deserving  to  be  more  intently 
pondered  upon,  is  Habit.  Dwell  upon  it ;  it  is  a  golden 
term  of  incalculable  value.  It  means  the  facility  of  doing  a 
thing  well,  acquired  by  having  done  it  frequently,  together 
with  a  certain  impulse  or  inclination  to  do  it.  It  differs 
from  instinct,  not  so  much  in  its  nature,  as  its  origin — habit 
being  acquired,  and  instinct  natural.  I  shall  not  trouble 
you  with  a  discussion  upon  the  philosophical  theory  of  nabit, 
but  only  advert  to  its  importance.^  Consider,  then,  of  what 
moment  it  is  to  do  what  is  right  by  habit,  and  thus  to  have 
everything  good  and  proper  to  be  done  made  easy ;  and 
not  to  have  all  the  disinclination,  difficulty,  and  awkwardness 
of  doing  a  right  thing,  to  encounter  every  time  the  action  is 
to  be  done ;  but  to  go  to  it  with  the  impulse  and  ease  of 
habit :  to  be  good  not  only  from  principle,  but  from  habit. 
On  the  other  hand,  how  dreadful  is  it  to  be  carried  forward 
in  the  way  of  evil,  by  the  double  force  of  inclination  and 
habit.  Now,  childhood  and  youth  are  the  time  for  forming 
habits.  We  see  this  in  the  mechanical  arts,  and  it  is  so  in 
all  the  mental  and  moral  processes.  Industry  and  self- 
denial  ;  forethought  and  caution ;  religion  and  virtue  ;  will 
all  be  comparatively  easy  to  the  man  who  has  acquired  the 
habit  in  early  life.  Through  God's  grace,  the  most  difficult 
duty,  the  most  rare  virtue,  may  thus  become  easy. 

And   now  let  me  urge  this  preparation  for   future   life 


22  THE  YOUNG  MAN  S  FKIEXD. 

upon  you.  Recollect  then  what  it  is  J  am  urging  upon  you 
Ponder  it  well.  Weigh  it  in  the  balances  of  reason.  It  is 
preparation  for  life.  What  a  sentence  !  How  pregnant  with 
meaning !  Suppose  you  were  going  upon  a  voyage  to  a 
strange  land,  never  to  return  to  your  own  country.  Would 
you  not  prepare  both  for  the  safety  and  comfort  of  the  voy- 
age, and  also  for  your  well-being  in  the  country  where  you 
were  going  to  dwell  the  remainder  of  your  existence  ;  and 
would  not  every  body  be  astounded  at  you,  if  you  were  busy 
about  a  variety  of  things,  and  yet  gave  no  care  at  all  to  the 
work  of  preparation  for  your  voyage,  and  your  foreign  resi- 
dence ?  And  what  is  your  life  but  a  voyage  to  eternity — a 
state  requiring  preparation  both  for  itself  and  what  lies  be- 
yond it  ?  Now  if  in  the  former  case  you  would  be  anxiour. 
to  get  a  safe  vessel ;  to  select  a  skilful  and  agreeable  cap 
tain  ;  to  choose  a  comfortable  berth  ;  to  sail  with  pleasant 
companions ;  to  lay  in  a  good  stock  of  necessary  articles  ; 
and  if  you  would  commence  the  preparation  in  due  time, 
that  when  the  hour  of  embarkation  arrives  you  might  have 
nothing  to  do  but  to  go  on  board ;  how  much  more  necessary 
is  it  that  now  in  youth,  you  should  be  diligently  preparing 
by-and-bye  to  embark  on  the  ocean  of  human  life.  And  if 
in  the  case  I  have  supposed,  you  would  be  still  more  anxious 
about  the  foreign  land  in  which  you  were  going  to  dwell  than 
even  about  the  comfort  of  the  voyage  itself,  how  much  more 
important  is  it  that  you  should  be  more  careful  about  the 
eternity  to  which  this  life  leads,  than  the  comfort  of  life 
itself  ? 

Not  only  does  life,  like  everything  else,  require  preparation, 
but  more  than  everything  else.  If  every  situation  in  life 
demands  previous  consideration,  provision,  and  training — 
if  every  new,  detached,  and  isolated  scene  demands  an  adap- 


PREPARATON  FOR  LIFE.  23 

tation,  a  meetness,  a  bracing  up  of  the  mind  to  it,  how  much 
more  the  whole  of  life.  Who  can  do  anything  well,  that  is 
novel,  difficult,  and  important,  without  forethought  and  plan, 
and  purpose  ?  Who  then  should  think  of  entering  upon  life 
without  preparation  ?  Stepping  upon  the  stage  of  existenca 
without  learning  to  act  well  their  part  in  the  great  drama  ? 
A  life  altogether  unprepared  for,  must  be  a  life  of  perpetual 
mistakes,  faults,  and  miseries.  A  man  cannot  live  happily, 
righteously,  usefully,  or  successfully,  who  does  not  prejpare 
to  do  so — that  is,  he  cannot  at  all  expect  to  do  so,  and  or- 
dinarily he  does  not  do  so. 

You  are  to  recollect,  young  men,  that  while  the  brute 
creation  are  prepared  by  instinct  for  their  life,  and  without 
any  previous  education,  perform  all  the  functions  which  are 
necessary  to  their  well-being,  and  to  answer  the  ends  of  their 
creation,  you  can  be  prepared  only  by  an  education  in  which 
you  must  take  a  part.  The  bird  constructs  her  nest,  the 
spider  her  web,  the  bee  her  cell,  and  the  beaver  his  house, 
by  instinct,  and  they  do  their  work  as  well  and  as  perfectly 
the  first  time  as  the  tenth.  They  are  taught  in  no  school, 
are  apprenticed  to  no  master ;  there  is  no  preparation  neces- 
sary for  their  life.  He  that  gave  it,  gave  all  necessary  pre- 
paration with  it.  But  it  is  not  so  in  your  case.  Instinct 
teaches  you  to  eat,  and  drink,  and  sleep,  and  perform  other 
functions  of  the  animal  economy  ;  but  in  all  ihat  pertains  to 
art,  science,  literature,  business,  and  religion,  in  short,  to  all 
that  pertains  to  you  as  social,  rational,  moral,  and  immortal 
creatures,  you  must  use  your  reason,  under  the  guidance,  in 
some  things,  of  revelation,  and  in  all,  in  dependance  upon 
the  help  and  blessing  of  God.  One  of  the  purposes  for 
which  this  reason  is  given  you,  and  for  which  it  ought  to  be 
exercised,  is  to  prepare  for  life.  It  is  to  assist  you  of  course 
2 


24  THE  YOUNG  MAN  S  FRIEND. 

iji  life,  but  it  is  also  to  prepare  you  for  it.  You  must  think 
compare,  choose,  weigh  evidence,  and  determine.  You  musi 
prepare  to  live  by  taking  up  and  fixing  in  your  mind  ii 
early  youth,  certain  great  principles,  which  unquestionably 
will  not  grow  and  establish  themselves  there  spontaneously 
Such,  for  instance,  as  that  in  all  things  and  all  events  God 
is  to  be  obeyed — that  there  is  an  essential  distinction  be- 
tween sin  and  holiness,  in  all  conduct,  both  within  the  mind 
and  without ;  and  that  sin,  whatever  temporal  advantages  or 
pleasures  it  may  yield,  is  absolutely  a  dreadful  evil,  and 
ought  to  be  avoided — that  nothing  ought  to  be  done  which 
must  be  afterwards  repented  of — that  judgment  and  con^ 
science  must  always  prevail  over  inclination — that  no  good  in 
anything  is  to  be  expected  without  eflfort  and  labor — that  we 
must  never  put  off  till  futurity  what  can  and  ought  to  be 
done  in  the  present — that  what  ought  not  to  be  done  twice, 
should  not  to  be  done  once — that  what  should  be  done  at 
all,  should  be  always  well  done — and  that  the  future  should 
predominate  over  the  present.  Now,  reason  dictates  all 
these  to  be  written  in  the  very  soul  as  the  preparation  for 
life.  And  it  is  equally  clear  that  reason  dictates  great  cau- 
tion in  allowing  practical  conclusions  to  be  drawn,  and  de- 
terminations to  be  adopted,  from  mere  impressions  of  fancy 
or  feeling)  or  from  some  casual  situation  into  which  a  person 
may  be  thro\Tn.  In  other  words,  you  must  judge  of  princi- 
ples, whether  theoretical  or  practical,  good  or  bad,  not  by 
adventitious  circumstances,  such  as  the  persons  by  whom 
they  are  held,  or  the  fascinations  or  repulsions  with  which 
they  are  set  forth,  but  by  themselves,  apart  from  all  these 
things. 

Remember  that  if  God  determines  to  continue  you  on 
the  earth  for  any  considerable  length  of  time,  as  in  all  rea- 


PREPARATION  FOR  LIFE.  25 

sonable  probability  he  does,  life,  witb  all  its  situations,  duties, 
trials,  cares,  difficulties,  and  responsibilities,  will  come,  whe 
ther  you  are  prepared  for  them  or  not.  You  are  in  life,  and 
must  go  on.  Childhood  and  youth  must  of  necessity  leave 
you  in  manhood.  The  time  of  your  entering  upon  all  the 
unknown  solicitudes  of  man's  condition  on  earth  approaches 
You  must  soon  leave  school,  if  you  have  not  already , 
and  come  out  of  your  apprenticeship,  if  you  have  not  yet 
done  so.  You  must  soon  be  as  that  young  tradesman  who 
has  entered  upon  the  race  of  competition  for  a  livelihood  or 
wealth.  You  must  soon  plunge  into  that  vortex  of  care  and 
labor,  which  is  whirling  him  round  and  round  on  the  rapid 
stream  of  human  life,  and  life's  manifold  business.  All  the 
perplexities  which  harrass  his  mind,  must  soon  harrass  yours  ; 
all  the  temptations  which  assail  his  integrity,  must  soon  assail 
yours;  and,  prepared  or  unprepared,  you  mast  meet  them 
What  !  enter  into  that  conflict,  unprepared  by  forethought, 
by  knowledge,  by  principle,  by  habit  !  Alas,  poor  thought- 
less youth,  we  pity  you,  and  without  a  prophet's  gift,  can 
foretel  what  terrible  work  you  will  make  of  life.  Poor,  de- 
fenceless, untaught  lamb,  the  wolves  are  before  you,  and 
what  is  to  become  of  you  ? 

That  for  which  you  are  required  to  prepare,  we  repeat,  i' 
your  whole  life — not  a  particular  situation — not  a  term  of 
years,  however  lengthened — not  some  contingent  circum 
stance,  but  your  whole  existence  upon  earth.  You  may  dio 
in  youth,  it  is  true,  aaid  therefore  we  admonish  you  by  all  the 
earnestness  in  our  power,  to  prepare  by  true  piety  for  death 
— and  nothing  else  will  prepare  you  for  it.  Should  you  die 
young,  I  remind  you  that  preparation  for  life  is  also  prepaia- 
tion  for  death.  Eeligion,  which  meetens  you  to  perform  well 
your  part  on  earth,  is  your  education,  your  training  for  hea- 


26  THE    TOUNG    MAN  S  FRIEND. 

ven.  True,  your  secular  education,  your  knowledge  of  busi 
ness,  may  seem,  in  the  event  of  your  early  death,  to  be  use 
less.  But  not  so ;  the  habits  of  submission,  self-denial,  and 
proper  application  of  your  mental  powers,  which  even  in 
these  secular  things,  were  called  forth  under  the  influence 
of  principle  ;  all  these  go  into  the  training  of  the  soul  for 
the  higher  state  of  her  existence.  But  in  all  probability, 
most  of  you  will  live,  some  forty,  others  fifty,  others  sixty, 
and  some  few  of  you  will  linger  on  to  seventy  or  eighty  years 
— and  it  is  preparation  for  all  this  term  that  is  now  urged 
upon  you.  What  a  comprehension  of  scene,  circumstance, 
and  situation,  does  that  term  include  !  Imagine  what  may 
happen,  must  happen,  in  sixty  or  seventy  years.  Through 
what  a  variety  of  situations,  temptations,  difficulties,  trials, 
changes,  even  if  there  be  nothing  at  all  extraordinary 
or  out  of  the  common  course  of  man's  history,  you  will 
be  called  to  pass.  And  should  not  all  this  be  pre- 
pared ^for  }  It  is  impossible  for  you  now  to  imagine  the 
designs  of  Providence  towards  you.  I  would  not  excite 
and  influence  your  imagination  *to  anything  that  is  ro- 
mantic ;  nor  set  you  upon  building  castles  in  the  air  ; 
nor  lead  you  to  leave  oflF  plodding,  and  in  the  exercise  of 
an  unauthorised  ambition,  to  seek  by  a  leap  or  bound,  to 
reach  an  exalted  situation,  or  by  a  stroke  to  grasp  a  large 
fortune.  Still  it  is  impossible  to  conjecture  what  opportunity 
you  may  have  given  you,  by  patient  and  successful  industry, 
to  rise  in  life.  In  this  happy  country,  there  is  no  chain  of 
caste  which  binds  a  man  down  to  the  situation  and  circum- 
stances of  his  birth.  The  very  heights  in  social  and  com- 
mercial life  are  accessible  to  all,  from  whatever  low  level  they 
commence  the  ascent.  The  grandfather  of  the  late  Sir  Robert 
Perl  was  at  one  time  a  journeyman  cotton-spinner.  He  that 


PREPARATION    FOR    LIFE.  2/ 

laid  tba  foundation  of  the  greatness  and  wealth  of  the  Ark- 
wright  family  was  a  barber.  Carey,  one  of  the  greatest 
linguists  and  missionaries  of  modern  times,  was  a  cobbler. 
Stephenson,  the  great  engineer  and  first  constructor  of  rail- 
ways, was  a  mender  of  watches.  No  one  knows  what  open- 
ings God  may  set  before  him  in  life,  and  should  he  not  be 
prepared  to  take  advantage  of  them  ?  Yea,  this  very  prepa- 
ration, in  many  cases,  makes  the  opening.  Ignorance,  idle- 
ness and  vice  can  never  rise.  They  will  ever  sink  by  their 
own  weight,  and  effectually  close  any  door  which  Providence 
might  set  open.  "What  a  painful  reflection  is  it  for  any  man 
to  make  in  future  life,  when  some  rare  and  golden  opportu- 
nity presents  itself  for  bettering  his  condition,  "  Alas,  I  can- 
not avail  myself  of  it.  I  am  disqualified.  I  made  no  pre- 
paration. With  tolerable  diligence  at  school  and  during  my 
apprenticeship,  I  could  have  fitted  myself  for  it ;  but  my 
indolence  then,  and  my  folly  and  sin  subsequently,  have  put 
it  quite  out  of  my  power  to  seize  the  advantage  thus  offered 
me." 

Consider,  again,  if  any  great  mistake,  as  to  the  end  and 
purpose  of  life,  and  the  manner  of  spending  it,  should  for 
want  of  due  preparation  be  made,  there  is  ordinarily  no  such 
thing  as  rectifying  it.  There  is  no  going  back,  and  begin- 
ning again — no  living  life  over  again — no  profiting  by  expe- 
rience— no  repetition  of  the  opportunity  for  preparation. 
"  The  wheels  of  time  are  not  constructed  to  roll  backwards ;" 
nor  can  the  hands  retrograde  on  any  man's  dial.  There  is 
but  one  life  and  one  death  appointed  to  any  man,  and  there- 
fore only  one  opportunity  to  prepare  for  death,  and  only  one 
to  prepare  for  life.  All  depends  on  one  cast  of  the  die.  How 
momentous  that  is.  How  does  such  an  idea  deserve  to  be 
pondered  by  every  young  man.     Only  one  life  in  this  world 


28  THE  YOUNG  man's  friend. 

and  only  one  in  the  next,  (o  be  prepared  for — what !  and 
that  one  neglected  !  Vain  are  the  regrets  and  the  wishes 
of  the  man,  who  amidst  his  broken  fortunes,  poverty,  misery, 
and  disconcerted  schemes,  has  thus  to  reflect,  and  thus  to 
reproach  himself,  "  It  is  my  own  fault — I  have  no  one  to 
blame  but  myself.  I  was  forewarned  and  admonished  that 
life's  duties,  trials,  and  happiness,  required  preparation. 
Even  from  childhood  I  heard  all  this.  At  school  I  was  inat- 
tentive and  idle.  During  my  apprenticeship  I  loved  pleasure 
rather  than  business.  In  youth  I  sought  bad  companions, 
rather  than  good  books.  I  neglected  all  mental  culture,  and 
I  feared  not  God.  I  entered  life  without  any  preparation. 
I  have  succeeded  in  nothing,  for  I  was  fit  for  nothing.  My 
one  chance  is  gone.  I  am  prepared  for  neither  world,  and 
now  I  am  miserable  here,  and  may  expect  to  be  miserable 
hereafter." 

How  many  have  we,  who  are  older  than  you  are,  known, 
whose  history  has  verified  all  this  painful  self-reproach.  You 
are  young,  and  have  not  yet  seen  much  of  life.  Take  our 
testimony,  who  have.  We  will  not  deceive  you.  We  speak 
that  which  we  have  known,  and  declare  unto  you  that  which 
we  have  seen.  We  have  watched  the  docile  scholar,  the  dili- 
gent, industrious  apprentice,  and  the  pious  youth,  as  he  rose 
and  ripened  into  the  successful,  holy,  and  happy  master, 
tradesman,  and  Christian  ;  and  thus  became  the  joy  of  his 
parents,  the  ornament  of  his  family,  and  the  blessing  of  so- 
ciety. While,  on  the  other  hand,  we  have  seen  with  grief 
those  who  in  their  boyhood  and  their  youth  manifested  an 
idleness  and  a  waywardness  which  no  culture  could  instruct, 
and  no  discipline  correct — who  hated  knowledge  and  de- 
spised reproof — who,  in  the  spring-time  of  life,  sowed  the 
seeds  neither  of  piety  nor  of  social  excellence, — wa  have,  I 


PREPARATION    FOR    LIFE.  29 

say,  seen  many  such,  who  made  no  preparation  for  lif»,  ex- 
cept it  were  for  an  unholy,  unfortunate,  and  unhappy  one — 
become  their  mother's  shame,  their  father's  grief,  the  dis- 
grace of  their  friends,  the  curses  of  society,  and  their  own 
torment  and  dishonor.  These  are  common  scenes  ;  and  yoik 
will  exemplify  one  or  the  other  of  them  in  your  history. 

Your  own  happiness,  then,  it  is  apparent,  is  deeply  in- 
volved in  this  preparation.  You  are  created  to  be  happy. 
God  wills  your  happiness,  and  has  provided  for  it.  Yow 
ought  not  to  be  indifferent  to  it.  Your  happiness  is  in  your 
own  hands.  All  the  world  cannot,  and  God  will  not,  make 
you  happy,  irrespective  of  your  own  conduct.  Understand 
at  the  outset  of  life  this  great  principle,  that  happiness  arises 
more  from  disposition,  character,  and  conduct,  than  from 
possessions ;  from  what  we  are,  more  than  from  what  we 
have.  Its  springs,  to  a  considerable  extent,  lie  in  your  own 
nature.  It  is  a  beautiful  saying  of  Holy  Scripture,  "  A 
good  man  shall  be  satisfied  from  himself." — Prov.  xiv.,  14. 
This  deserves  your  attention,  your  study,  your  practical  re- 
collection. The  happiness  of  life  depends  in  a  great  mea- 
sure upon  youth.  A  bad  boy  seldom  makes  a  happy  man  ; 
though  God  sometimes  changes  him,  and  calls  him  in  man- 
hood to  an  entire  renovation.  Suppose,  for  instance,  young 
men,  there  were  two  kinds  of  seeds,  one  of  which  you  must 
by  some  necessity  of  nature,  or  compulsion,  sow  every 
spring,  and  the  fruit  of  which  you  must,  by  the  same  neces- 
sity, live  upon  every  winter  ;  one  kind  yielding  that  which 
is  bitter,  and  nauseous,  and  inflicting  severe  pain  ;  the  other 
that  which  was  pleasant  to  the  taste,  and  salubrious  to  the 
constitution ;  would  you  not  be  very  careful  which  you  se- 
lected and  cast  into  your  garden,  knowing  as  you  would  what 
must  be  the  inevitable  result  ?     Why  this  is  your  condition 


30  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

of  existence  and  your  employment.  You  are  always 
sowing  in  youth  what  you  must  always  reap  in  manhood. 
But,  apart  from  its  results,  the  very  act  of  preparing  for 
life,  is  itself  a  part  of  the  happiness  of  life.  Diligence  at 
school — attention  to  business — mental  cultivation — true  re- 
ligion, and  good  habits,  independently  of  the  consequences 
they  bring  after  them,  are  themselves  the  elements  of  enjoy- 
ment. An  idle  man  is  the  most  miserable  of  God's  crea- 
tures, except  it  be  he,  who,  as  is  often  the  case,  adds  vice 
to  indolence.  Woe,  woe  be  to  him  who  brings  upon  himself 
the  pains  and  penalties  of  laziness. 

It  is  not,  however,  your  own  happiness  and  well-being 
alone^  that  will  be  affected  by  your  conduct  and  character, 
but  the  well-being  of  others.  Your  own  individuality  is 
something,  yea,  much  to  you^  and  you  are  not  to  be  indiffer- 
ent to  it.  God,  by  his  own  authority,  protects  you  against 
yourself.  He  says,  "  Do  thyself  no  harm."  He  will  not 
allow  you  to  be  reckless  of  your  own  happiness.  He  has 
given  you  a  capacity  for  bliss,  and  made  provision  for  it,  and 
accounts  it  an  opposition  to  his  beneficent  designs,  if  you  do 
not  endeavor  in  bis  way,  and  according  to  his  purpose,  to 
be  happy.  But  then  you  are  a  social  creature — born  in 
society — intended  for  society — bound  to  promote  the  well- 
being  of  society.  Most  of  you  will  be  husbands,  fathers, 
masters,  neighbors,  citizens  ;  and  you  ought  to  prepare  to 
act  well  your  part  in  all  these  relations.  You  will  contribute 
something  to  the  well  or  ill-being  of  the  community.  You 
will  be  the  nettles,  the  briars,  and  the  brambles  of  the  land ; 
or  its  oaks,  its  myrtles,  or  its  fig-trees — you  will  be  your 
country's  strength  or  its  weakness ;  its  beauty  or  its  defor- 
mity. Your  country  has  claims  upon  you.  You  are  there- 
fore to  prepare  to  serve  it,  and  to  serve  it  well.     You  must 


FREPARilTION    FOR    LIFE.  31 

by  an  intelligent  and  moral  patriotism,  implanted  early  in 
your  heart,  seek  to  bless  the  land  of  your  birth.  Piety  and 
sound  morality  are  a  nation's  strength,  more  even  than  its 
armies  and  its  navies ;  its  wealth  more  than  its  commerce  ; 
and  its  glory  more  than  its  literature,  its  science,  and  its 
victories.  Young  men,  you  belong  to  the  greatest  nation 
upon  earth  ;  be  worthy  o,f  your  distinction.  Cherish  more 
than  a  Roman's  patriotism,  without  a  Roman's  pride.  Let 
your  country's  present  welfare  and  her  future  destiny  be  near 
your  hearts.  Let  your  youthful  bosom  swell  with  the  noble 
ambition  of  doing  something  for  the  land  of  your  ancestors 
and  your  posterity.  Add  by  your  prayers  a  stone  to  her 
bulwarks,  and  by  your  personal  excellence  a  ray  to  the  glory 
that  beams  around  her  head. 

But  this  is,  perhaps,  too  large  a  scale  on  which  to  view 
your  influence  :  too  wide  a  circle  for  you  to  see  yourself  dif- 
fusing happiness  or  misery.  Consider,  then,  the  family  rela- 
tionships you  will  sustain.  Look  on  and  anticipate  what 
kind  of  a  husband,  father,  master,  and  tradesman,  you  are 
likely  to  make  ;  and  how  you  shall  preside  over  the  domestic 
economy.  Some  woman's  destiny  fer  life  will  hang  upon 
you,  and  the  happiness  of,  perhaps,  a  iiumerous  family ;  and 
then  upon  their  conduct  will  depend  by  an  onward  succes- 
sion, the  destiny  of  others  to  descend  from  them.  You  will 
thus  commence  a  dark  or  a  bright  line  of  human  existence 
which  will  run  onward  through  all  futura  generations,  and  be 
still  going  forward  when  the  last  trump  shall  sound.  Misery 
or  bliss,  at  the  distance  of  centuries,  or  at  the  very  antipodes, 
may  be  traced  back  to  you.  It  is  not,  therefore,  permitted 
you  to  be  perfectly  isolated  and  neutral.  You  are  not  to 
dwell  in  a  hermitage  or  a  monastery  ;  nor  in  a  cave  of  the 
wilderness;  nor  on  some  solitary  mountain,  t^J^cc  m«  ej9 
2* 


32  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

will  observe  you,  no  ear  hear  you, — but  amidst  the  busy  and 
the  crowded  haunts  of  men,  where  an  influence  to  a  greater 
or  smaller  extent  will  go  out  from  you,  and  you  must  be  the 
salt  or  the  poison  of  the  earth.  You  must,  you  do,  touch 
others,  whose  lot  is  to  a  considerable  extent  mixed  up  with 
yours.  Ought  you  not  to  think  of  this,  and  prepare  for  it  ? 
You  are  destined  to  light  up  the  countenance  of  your  fellow- 
creatures  with  smiles,  or  to  suffuse  their  eyes  with  tears — to 
inflict  wounds,  or  to  heal  them — to  "  break  the  bruised  reed," 
or  to  "  bind  up  the  broken  in  heart."  With  what  emphasis, 
therefore,  may  I  now  say  to  you — Prepare  to  live — society, 
futurity,  your  country,  and  the  world,  demand  it  of  you. 

But  there  is  another  reason — the  last,  the  highest,  and 
most  momentous  of  all — why  you  should  prepare  to  live,  and 
that  is — the  life  you  live  in  this  world  is  the  preparation  for 
the  life  you  are  to  live  in  the  next.  What  the  term  and 
purpose  of  school  pursuits,  and  the  apprenticeship,  are  to  the 
present  life,  that  the  whole  of  the  present  life  is  to  the  future 
one  beyond  the  grave.  You  are  now,  and  ever  will  be  on 
earth,  in  a  state  of  pupilage  for  heaven  and  eternity.  Upon 
the  fugitive  existence  in  this  world  hangs  the  everlasting  exist- 
ence in  another.  You  are  constructing  a  character,  the  form 
of  which,  whatever  it  be,  is  to  last  forever.  How  momentous 
an  idea  !  Yes,  there  is  another  world,  an  eternal  world,  a 
world  of  everlasting  and  ineffable  felicity  or  woe.  Yes,  you 
are  immortal  beings,  young  men.  Immortality,  the  highest 
attribute  of  Grod,  is  yours  also.  In  this,  as  in  other  things, 
God  made  man  in  his  own  likeness.  Before  you  lies  the 
shoreless  ocean  of  eternity.  Look  over  the  vast  expanse. 
Meditate  the  wondrous  theme.  Human  life  is  the  preparation 
time,  the  brief,  the  uncertain,  the  only  one,  for  those  ever- 
rolling  ages.     Every  step  you  take  in  this  world  is  to  heaven 


PREPARATION    FOR    LIFE.  33 

or  to  hell.  This  little  span,  this  inch  of  time — our  life,  is 
all  we  have  to  prepare  for  all  that  lies  beyond.  Take  this 
view  of  it,  I  beseech  you.  Learn  at  the  outset  of  life,  and 
ever  remember  through  all  its  future  stages,  that  it  is  given 
to  you  as  a  discipline  and  probation  for  eternity.  You  have 
entered  upon  the  trial ;  the  awful  probation  is  going  on. 
Do  not  let  the  thoughtlessness  of  youth  hide  it  from  you. 
Do  not  let  pleasure  lead  you  to  forget  it.  Do  not  permit 
eompanions  to  divert  your  attention  from  it — there  it  stands 
before  you — the  dread,  the  glorious,  the  grand  reality,  of 
man's  existence — immortality.  Look  at  it,  ponder  it,  1 
be?'eech  you.  Let  it  possess  you,  literally  possess  you. 
Feel  as  if  you  could  not  cast  it  out  from  your  mind,  as  if 
you  would-  not  be  dispossessed  of  the  wondrous  conception. 
Repel  with  indignation  the  attempt  to  lead  you  into  an 
oblivion  of  this  your  noblest  distinction,  your  richest  birth- 
right. Treat  the  man  who  would  despoil  you  of  this,  your 
highest  dignity,  or  even  of  the  right  consideration  of  it,  as 
you  would  the  thief  that  would  rob  you  of  your  purse,  or 
the  assassin  that  would  destroy  your  life.  Prepare  then  by 
true  religion  for  that  life  which  is  itself  to  prepare  you  for 
immortality. 

In  conclusion,  and  to  sum  up  all  I  have  said — there  you 
are,  a  rational,  sinful,  immortal,  accountable  creature,  just 
about  to  start  in  the  career  of  active  life,  with  time  and 
eternity  before  you — heaven  above  you — hell  beneath  you — 
dangers  all  round  you — and  many  corruptions  and  imperfec- 
tions within  you.  Does  it  becomo  such  a  creature,  in  such 
a  position,  to  make  no  preparation  }  Whether  you  think 
of  it  or  not,  two  worlds,  this  and  the  next,  are  to  be  in- 
habited by  you.  What  your  lot  may  be  in  the  present  one, 
none  but  He  who  is  omniscient  can  even  conjecture.     An 


S4  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

impenetrable  veil  hides  the  future  from  your  view,  and  not 
the  smallest  rent  or  opening  suffers  a  single  ray  of  light  to 
reveal  what  is  before  you.  Whether  you  shall  die  young 
or  live  to  old  age — whether  you  shall  fail  or  succeed  in 
business — whether  you  shall  rise  or  sink  in  society — whe 
ther  you  shall  wear  out  existence  in  sorrow  or  in  joy — no 
one  but  God  can  tell  us,  and  he  will  not.  Much  will  depend 
upon  Him  ;  but  let  me  remind  you,  much  also  will  depend 
upon  yourself.  Abandon  the  heathen  notion  of  fate.  We 
believe  in  Providence,  but  not  in  fate,  and  we  admonish 
yoti  to  believe  in  it  also,  and  by  constant  prayer  to  seek 
its  blessing — but  do  not  forget  that  Providence  never 
blesses  idleness,  thoughtlessness,  negligence,  and  extra- 
vagance. Providence  helps  those  that  help  themselves. 
Everything,  therefore,  cries  to  you,  "  Prejpare  for  life.P 
Your  teachers,  your  parents,  your  masters,  your  ministers, 
say  to  you,  '-'•  Prejpare  to  Ziye. "  Your  reason,  your  con- 
science, your  weakness,  your  ignorance  of  the  world,  say 
to  you,  "  Prejpare  to  live.''''  The  prosperity  of  those  who 
have  succeeded,  and  the  poverty  of  those  who  have  failed, 
say,  '•'■  Prejpare  to  livey  The  duties,  the  trials,  the  diflS- 
culties,  the  dangers  of  earth,  the  felicities  of  heaven,  the 
torments  of  the  bottoniL^ss  pit  say,  ^'-  Prepare  to  live  ;''^  and 
above  all,  the  great  God,  who  has  given  you  existence, 
who  is  willing  to  help  you  to  live  holily,  usefully,  and 
happily — and  who  will  call  you  into  judgment  for  the  man- 
ner in  which  life  has  been  spent — says  to  you,  "  Prepare  to 
live.''''  Can  you — dare  you — ^will  you — turn  a  deaf  ear  to 
voices  so  numerous,  so  solemn,  so  consentaneous  ? — Will 
you? 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  ENTERING  LIFE. 


"  In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge  him,  and  he  shall  direct  thy  paths.'^— 
Proverbs  iii.  6. 

This  text  may  be  called  the  poll-star  of  human  life,  placed 
by  the  hand  of  God  in  the  firmament  of  Scripture,  for  the  eye 
of  man  to  observe  upon  earth  ;  and  he  that  fixeth  his  atten- 
tion upon  it,  and  steereth  his  course  by  it  across  this  troubled 
and  dangerous  ocean,  shall  enter  at  length  the  haven  of  ever- 
lasting peace.  It  is  applicable  to  all  persons,  and  to  all  situa- 
tions ;  but  especially  to  those  who  are  just  entering  upon  the 
duties,  the  dangers,  and  the  perplexities,  of  man's  terrestrial 
course.  As  a  rule  of  conduct  it  is  brief,  simple,  intelligible, 
and  unmistakeable,  easily  remembered,  and  delightful  in  the 
observance.  It  implies,  rather  than  asserts,  the  existence 
and  operations  of  an  all-comprehensive,  all-wise,  all-gracious 
Providence,  that  appoints,  directs,  and  controls  the  afiairs  of 
men — a  Providence  that  is  not  only  general,  as  guiding  the 
destinies  of  nations  and  worlds,  but  is  particular  and  minute, 
as  shaping  the  history  of  individuals.  There  are  some  who 
profess  to  believe  in  a  Providential  interposition  in  the  great 
events  of  history,  but  deny  its  regard  to  the  minute  afiiiirs  of 
individuals.     But  who  can  tell  what,  in  fact,  is  gre?t,  and 


30  TTIE    YOUNO    man's    FRTKND. 

what  is  little,  or  how  far  great  events  are  iiifin  nc  ;(]  by 
lesser  ones  ?  The  destinies  of  nations  have  soniL^times  hung 
upon  a  thought.  But  we  need  not  reason  upon  this,  sinco 
Christ  has  asserted  that  "  a  sparrow  falleth  not  to  the 
ground  without  the  knowledge  of  our  Heavenly  Father.'' 
Without  this  view,  the  doctrine  of  Providence  might  be 
grand  as  an  object  of  contemplation,  but  it  could  yield  little 
consolation  as  a  subject  of  faith.  Individual  trust,  prayer, 
hope,  and  praise,  all  rest  upon  the  ground  of  individual  Pro- 
vidence. It  is  not  what  God  is  to  the  universe  at  large,  but 
what  he  is  to  me  as  an  individual,  that  is  the  chief  source  of 
my  comfort,  and  the  strongest  motive  to  my  duty.  Now 
the  text  proposes  him  to  us  as  an  oracle  we  may  individually 
consult ;  and  the  injunction  means,  that,  really  believing 
God  by  his  Providence  directs  all  things,  we  should  consult 
him  by  reading  his  Holy  Word,  where  he  has  revealed  his 
will ;  and  that  by  sincere  and  earnest  prayer  we  seek  his 
leave /or  everything,  his  direction  in  everything,  his  blessing 
njion  everything,  and  his  glory  hy  everything,  we  do.  In 
short,  it  means  a  devout  and  practical  remembrance  of  God, 
as  the  Disposer  of  all  things,  in  all  the  varying  circum- 
stances and  all  the  changeful  situations  of  life  ;  and  promises 
us  his  wise  and  gracious  direction  in  all  our  affairs.  How 
easy — how  safe — how  tranquil — how  dignified  a  course  of 
action  !  How  vast  the  privilege  of  this  access  to  an  omni- 
potent, omnipresent,  omniscient,  all-sufficient  Friend,  for 
advice,  direction,  and  consolation.  Why  a  wise  and  benevo- 
lent human  counsellor  ever  at  hand  is  a  blessing,  how  much 
more  one  that  is  Divine. 

So  much  for  the  text.  Wc  now  come  to  the  subject  of 
the  Sermon — The  Young  Man  Entering  upon  Life:  by 
which  we  mean  that  period  of  his   existence  which   follows 


ENTERING    LIFE.  37 

his  education  and  apprenticeship,  when  he  usually  leaves  his 
father's  house,  and  becomes  a  shopman,  clerk,  or  journey- 
man— the  intermediate  stage  between  the  youth  and  the  man 
of  business.  Yet  it  may  be  remarked  that  the  periods  and 
situations  intended  to  be  described  and  distinguished  as  sepa- 
rate, in  the  last  sermon  and  this,  run  much  into  one  another, 
and  extend  onward  to  settlement  in  life  and  the  commence- 
ment of  business. 

This,  young  men,  is  the  situation  of  those  whom  I  now 
address — you  are  most  of  you  not  in  business  for  yourselves 
but  looking  forward  to  it ;  off  from  your  parents,  support- 
ing yourselves  by  your  own  industry,  and,  therefore,  just 
stepping  upon  the  stage  of  active  life  ;  commencing  your 
part  in  the  great  drama,  with  the  scenes  already  shifting 
before  and  around  you. 

Let  me,  then,  remind  you,  a  little  more  at  large, — 

First,  Of  your  actual  situation. 

It  is  one  of  deep  and  pressing  solicitude  to  your  parents 
and  other  friends. 

They  have  parted  from  you,  and  sent  you  forth,  almost 
with  the  feeling  and  the  fear  that  it  was  as  lambs  among 
wolves.  They  know,  for  they  have  passed  through  them, 
the  dangers  of  youth,  and  of  a  youth  away  from  home.  If 
your  good  conduct  and  well-formed  character  at  home,  have 
inspired  them  with  confidence,  their  solicitude  is  somewhat 
abated  ;  but  even  then  an  anxious  father  will  exclaim,  ^'  What 
if  this  fair  blossom  of  parental  hope,  which  grew  so  beauti- 
fully and  looked  so  lovely,  when  sheltered  under  the  parental 
roof,  should  now  be  blighted  when  removed  to  the  ungenial 
blasts  of  the  world's  temptations — the  very  possibility  makes 
my  heart  bleed — Ok,  my  son,  my  son  .'"  How  intensely 
aggravated  is  this  painful  solicitude,  if  unhappily  his  child 


3S  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

is  going  forth  undecided  in  religion,  unconverted  to  God 
with  no  "  armor  of  righteousness  on  the  right  hand  and  on 
the  left,"  to  defend  him  from  the  assaults  of  temptation  ;  and 
if  even  at  home  portents  have  showed  themselves  of  future 
misconduct.  "  Oh,"  says  the  distressed  father,  "  if  the 
wholesome  laws,  the  firm,  yet  mild  restraint  of  parental 
authority  and  domestic  order,  could  not  repress  the  outbreaks 
of  youthful  irregularity,  what  is  to  become  of  him,  when 
even  these  are  withdrawn,  and  he  is  left  to  the  unchecked 
strength  of  his  own  corruptions,  and  the  force  of  surround- 
ing temptations — Oh ^  my  son ^  my  son  r'*  Young  men,  you 
cannot  know  all  a  father's  and  a  mother's  agonizing  solici- 
tude for  you,  on  your  going  out  into  the  world  ;  but  yuu 
can  conceive  of  it  in  part,  by  the  scenes  of  that  sorrowful 
hour  when  amidst  so  many  tears  your  mother  parted  from 
you,  and  with  a  voice  half-choked,  your  father  grasped  your 
hand  and  stammered  out,  "  Farewell,  my  boy.  Behave 
yourself  well,  and  comfort  our  hearts  by  your  good  conduct." 
How  anxious  are  they  to  hear  from  you,  and  of  you — to 
have  their  fears  dissipated  and  their  hopes  confirmed.  How 
eagerly,  joyfully,  and  yet  how  tremblingly,  they  open  every 
letter  to  judge  from  its  contents  whether  there  are  any  signs 
of  incipient  moral  mischief  in  your  character.  Respect  their 
feelings ;  reward  their  affection ;  relieve  their  solicitude. 
Call  it  not  suspicion,  jealousy,  distrust.  .  No,  no,  it  is  love 
trembling  over  its  object ;  affection  agonizing  for  its  loved 
one.  Many  an  hour  is  that  mother  kept  waking  at  midnight, 
thinking  and  praying  for  her  absent  son,  who  has  recently 
left  her  to  enter  upon  the  world's  business  ;  and  often  amidst 
other  cares,  does  your  father  feel  it  to  be  one  of  the  mightiest 
of  them  all,  to  consider  how  his  boy  conducts  himself  in  his 
new  situation.     Let  me  plead  then  for  the  peace  of  those 


ENTERING    LIFE.  39 

two  hearts  which  throb  so  anxiously  for  you,  and  for  the 
peace  of  which,  as  it  is  in  your  keeping,  your  own  ought  to 
throb  most  responsively. 

But  I  now  turn  from  your  parents,  and  remind  you  of  the 
momentous  and  infinite  importance  of  this  period  of  your  life 
to  yourselves.  It  is,  in  all  probability,  the  crisis  of  your  his- 
tory— the  hinge  of  your  destiny — the  casting  of  your  lot  for 
both  worlds — the  formation  of  your  character  for  time  and 
for  eternity.  Through  every  hour,  almost  every  minute 
of  this  term,  and  in  every  scene,  your  character  is  passing 
from  that  state  of  fusion  in  which  it  was  left  by  boyhood  and 
youth,  into  the  cold,  hard  solidity  and  fixedness  of  manhood 
and  mediaeval  life.  Upon  the  time  that  is  now  passing  over 
you,  it  depends  chiefly  what  you  are  to  be,  and  to  do 
through  all  time  and  eternity.  The  next  two  years  will 
very  likely  determine  the  great  question,  concerning  the 
character  of  your  whole  existence.  The  observable  ten- 
dencies of  boyhood  and  youth — the  signification  prognostica- 
tion of  the  pupil  and  the  apprentice — the  declaratory  signs 
of  earlier  years,  will  now  receive  their  full,  and  perhaps  final 
confirmation.  Your  character  growing,  like  your  body, 
through  the  previous  stages  of  existence,  now  like  that, 
arrives  at  its  full  shape  and  maturity,  which  it  will  hereafter 
retain  and  exhibit.  Can  you  be  thoughtless  and  carelessly 
indifi'erent  at  such  a  crisis  ?  Is  it  possible  .''  Can  you  help 
saying,  "  Is  it  so,  then — am  I  really  now,  just  at  this  period, 
becoming  my  permanent,  future  self.?  Am  I  determinincr 
for  all  time,  and  for  all  eternity,  what  kind  of  moral,  social, 
and  intellectual  "being  I  am  to  be  ?  Am  I  now  casting  my 
lot,  forming  my  destiny,  choosing  my  character  ?  What 
thoughtfulness,  seriousness,  devoutness,  and  prayer  for  God's 
Holy  Spirit  to  assist  me,  ought  I  to  manifest .?     What  W'  aid 


40  THE  YOUNG  MAN  S  FRI2ND. 

I  be  in  and  through  all  future  life,  and  through  all  eternity  ? 
What  I  am  now,  that  in  all  probability  I  shall  be.  I  am 
entering  upon  life,  and  as  T  begin,  so  am  I  likely  to  con- 
tinue." Yes,  stand  by  that  consideration.  It  is  of  immense 
importance  to  start  well.  He  that  at  the  beginning  of  his 
journey  takes  the  wrong  road,  diverges  at  every  step  farther 
and  farther  from  the  right  path  ;  and  though  return  is  not 
impossible,  yet  at  what  an  expense  of  time  and  comfort  is  it 
made  ?  Take  care,  then^  to  begin  well.  Solomon  says, 
^'  Better  is  the  end  of  a  thing  than  the  beginning."  Espe- 
cially if  it  be  a  good  end  of  a  bad  beginning.  But  how 
rarely  does  a  thing  end  well,  that  begins  ill.  The  fruit  is 
better  than  the  blossom — the  reaping  than  the  sowing — the 
victory  than  ths  battle — the  home  than  the  journey — the 
reward  than  the  service.  But  then  all  these  better  endings 
depend  on  good  beginnings.  There  can  be  no  rich  fruit  in 
autumn,  without  good  blossom  in  spring — no  plentiful  reap- 
ing without  plentiful  sowing — no  victory  without  a  well- 
fought  battle — no  returning  home  without  a  journey  along 
a  right  road.  So  there  can  be  no  rational  expectation  of  a 
good  end  of  life,  without  a  good  beginning. 

Secondly. — I  will  now  remind  you  of  the  dangers  that 
attend  your  entering  into  life.  Yes,  dangers  :  and  I  really 
wish  to  excite  your  fears  by  the  word.  I  am  anxious  to 
awaken  your  apprehension  by  thus  ringing  the  alarm  bell. 
Not  indeed  by  raising  spectres  which  have  no  real  existence  ; 
not  by  calling  up  spirits  from  the  vasty  deep  of  a  gloomy 
imagination.  No,  there  is  no  need  of  flitting  before  you,  in 
order  to  excite  your  fears,  the  dark  shadows  and  the  ghosts 
of  moral  romance.  The  sober  and  dread  reahties  of  day- 
light, and  of  every-day  existence,  are  sufficiently  numerous 
and  appalling  to  justify  the  use  of  the  most  solemn,  impres 


ENTERING    LIFE.  41 

sive,  and  earnest  warnings  we  can  give.  Young  men,  it  is 
a  truth,  and  for  you  a  dread  and  anxious  one,  that  the  moral 
dangers  of  life  stand  thickest  round  its  entrance.  The 
most  perilous  rocks  and  shoals  in  the  voyage  of  life,  are  at 
the  mouth  of  the  river  where  it  enters  the  ocean  ;  and  not- 
withstanding the  light-house  beacon,  which  in  the  Holy  Scrip- 
tures and  the  faithful  labors  of  authors  and  preachers,  ever 
keeps  holding  out  its  friendly  warnings  over  these  dangerous 
places,  more  shipwrecks  are  made  there  than  anywhere 
else. 

These  dangers  are  so  numerous  that  they  must  be  classed. 

I.  There  are  some  which  have  been  thrown  in  your  way, 
perhaps,  by  the  injudicious  conduct  of  your  'parents.  They 
may  have  altogether  neglected  your  moral  training,  and  have 
left  you  to  go  forth  into  the  world  without  any  fixed  prin- 
ciples, any  good  habits,  or  any  rightly  formed  character. 
Yea,  by  a  system  of  false  and  weak  indulgence,  they  may 
have  partially  unfitted  you  for  the  trials,  the  difficulties,  the 
roughnesses,  and  self  denial  of  life.  We  will  not  dwell  upon 
their  conduct  with  the  severity  it  deserves  ;  but  be  aware  of 
their  mistake  and  call  up  your  own  wisdom  to  correct  it. 
They  have  left  you  something  to  undo,  as  well  as  to  do. 
Supply,  by  your  own  resolute  will,  the  deficiency  of  hardi- 
hood with  which  they  have  left  you.  Abandon  the  soft  and 
efi'eminate  habits  in  which  they  have  trained  you,  and  deter- 
mine to  be  men  and  to  acquire  a  manly  character.  You  can, 
if  you  will,  make  up  their  deficiences — but  it  will  require 
much  efibrt  and  more  perseverance. 

II.  There  are  next  the  dangers  that  are  inherent  in  your- 
selveSy  and  these  are  the  greatest  of  all.  You  not  only  go  to 
meet  perils,  you  carry  them  forth  with  you. 

1.  Now  at  the  head  of  all  this  class,  I  must  place  the 


42  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S  FRIEND, 

corruption  of  your  own  hearts.  "  Know  thyself,"  was  sup 
posed  by  the  ancients  to  be  a  maxim  so  replete  with  impor- 
tant wisdom  as  to  have  descended  from  heaven.  No  man 
can  properly  exercise  self-government,  without  self-know- 
ledge. False  notions  on  this  subject  must  of  necessity  lead 
to  practical  errors  of  a  most  momentous  kind.  I  cannot,  I 
dare  not,  I  will  not  flatter  you  by  speaking  highly  of  the  na- 
tive goodness,  the  moral  dignity  of  human  nature.  Scripture, 
observation,  and  experience,  must  combine  to  prove  to  any 
impartial  mind,  that  man  is  in  a  lapsed  condition,  alien  from 
God,  and  estranged  from  righteousness.  This  is  a  first  prin- 
ciple, not  only  in  all  true  religion,  but  in  all  sound  philoso- 
phy. Leaving  out  this,  it  is  impossible  satisfactorily  to  ac- 
count for  the  present  condition  and  general  history  of  the 
human  race.  Forgetting,  or  denying  this,  your  whole  sys- 
tem of  religion  and  morals  will  be  wrong,  and  your  whole 
course  of  action  defective  and  erroneous.  You  will  not,  can- 
not know,  the  chief  source  of  your  danger,  and  that  which 
alone  can  account  for  the  existence  and  power  of  other  dan- 
gers :  nor  will  yoii  know  whence  or  how  to  begin,  or  how  to 
proceed  in  watching  and  guarding  against  them.  There  is, 
you  know  it,  you  feel  it,  and  perhaps  some  of  you  lament  it, 
a  fatal  propensity  to  evil,  which — though  inclining  to  what  is 
wrong,  yet  as  by  divine  grace  it  may  be  resisted  and  removed, 
and  is  therefore  neither  irresistible  tendency  nor  invincible 
necessity,  but  a  voluntary  choice — is  no  excuse  for  actual 
sin,  though  it  may  account  for  it.  It  is  not  danger  from 
without  only  you  have  to  fear,  but  also  from  within  ;  not 
from  others  merely,  but  from  yourself.  You  carry  your 
tempter  in  your  own  heart,  you  were  your  own  tempter. 
You  will  be  surrounded  with  external  seductions,  and  you 
will   also   expose  to  them  a  nature  too  willing  to  be  so- 


ENTERING    LIFE.  43 

duced.  There  is  in  you  "  an  evil  heart  of  unbelief  in  de- 
parting from  the  living  God."  You  have  more  need  to  be 
afraid  of  yourself  than  even  of  Satan  or  the  world.  These 
cannot  tempt  you  but  through  your  own  corruptions.  Hence 
the  imperative  need  of  your  seeking  first  of  all  the  entire  re- 
novation of  your  own  hearts,  and  keeping  evermore  a  constant 
watch  over  yourselves.  You  will  be  most  inadequately  pre- 
pared to  grapple  with  temptation  unless  you  know  what  it  is 
that  gives  it  force. 

But  the  corruption  of  our  hearts  assumes  a  different  form 
in  different  persons,  and  puts  itself  forth  in  a  manner  appro- 
priate to  our  age,  circumstances  and  temptations.  In  your 
case  there  are  those  "  youthful  lusts,^^  from  which  by  apos- 
tolic injunction  you  are  exhorted  to  flee.  In  addition  to  an 
inflammable  and  prurient  imagination — rashness  and  impetu- 
osity of  temper — the  thoughtlessness  and  recklessness  of  dis- 
position— the  pride  of  independence — and  the  head-strong 
waywardness,  which  are  too  common  to  youth — there  are  the 
animal  apjpetites  aiid  jprojpensities^  which  are  now  coming  out 
in  all  their  force  :  those  promptings  of  licentiousness  and  im- 
pulses of  sensuality,  to  which  there  are  so  many  incentives, 
and  which  require  so  strong  a  restraint  by  reason  and  religion 
— I  mean,  young  men,  the  vices  which  form  the  drunkard 
and  the  debauchee  :  those  illicit  gratifications  which  degrade 
the  man  into  the  brute.  The  danger  here  exceeds  all  the 
alarm  I  can  possibly  give.  No  warning  can  be  too  loud,  no 
entreaties  too  importunate,  in  regard  to  this  peril.  Voices 
from  the  pulpit,  from  the  hospital,  from  the  hulks,  from  the 
workhouse,  from  the  lunatic  asylum,  from  the  grave,  and 
from  the  bottomless  pit, — all  unite  in  saying,  "  Young  men, 
beware  of  sensuality."  Flee  from  them  as  from  a  serpent  or 
a  lion.     Kead  what  Solomon  says,  who  could  speak  on  such  a 


44  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

subject  from  his  own  unhappy  and  dishonorah/e  experience 
"  The  lips  of  a  strange  woman  drop  as  an  honey-comb,  and 
her  mouth  is  smoother  than  oil  ;  but  her  end  is  bitter  as  worm- 
wood, sharp  as  a  two-edged  sword.  Her  feet  go  down  to 
death,  her  steps  take  hold  on  hell :  let  not  thine  heart  decline 
to  her  ways,  go  not  astray  in  her  paths.  For  she  has  cast 
down  many  wounded  :  yea,  many  strong  men  have  been  slain 
by  her.  Her  house  is  the  way  to  hell,  going  down  to  the 
chambers  of  death."  Prov.  v.  7.  Read  these  chapters,  and 
in  connection  with  them,  Job  xx.  11 — 14.  1  Cor.  vi.  15 — 
20.     1  Thess.  iv.  2—5.     Heb.  xiii.  4.     Rev.  xxi.  8. 

There  is  also  another  form  which  the  corruption  of  our 
nature  assumes,  and  which  the  apostle  calls  "  the  deceitful- 
ness  of  sin."  "  Exhort  one  another  daily,  lest  any  of  you  be 
hardened  through  the  deceitfulness  of  sin."  Heb.  iii.  13. 
Deceit  is  not  only  one  of  the  characteristics  of  sin,  but  is  its 
most  dangerous  one,  and  none  are  so  much  in  danger  of  being 
imposed  upon  by  it  as  the  young  ;  nor  they  at  any  period  of 
their  life,  so  much  as  when  just  entering  upon  it.  You  have 
never  perhaps  looked  upon  it  sufficiently  under  this  character 
of  deceit.  You  may  have  dwelt  upon  its  exceeding  sinful- 
ness, but  its  deceptiveness  has  escaped  you.  Yet  this 
is  what  you  have  chiefly  to  guard  against.  It  is  a  most 
cunning  and  artful  foe.  Observe  what  pains  it  takes  to  dis- 
guise itself,  and  conceal  its  hideous  nature.  It  does  not 
appear  in  its  own  proper  and  genuine  dress,  nor  call  itself 
by  its  own  proper  name.  It  puts  the  mask  of  virtue  upon 
the  face  of  vice,  and  wraps  itself  in  the  cloak  of  dissimula- 
tion, by  calling  sins  virtues,  and  virtues  sins  :  thus — excess 
and  intemperance  are  called  a  social  disposition  and  good 
fellowship  :  prodigality  is  liberality ;  pride  and  resentment, 
honor,    spirit,    and   dignity  ;     licentious     levity,   innocent 


ENTERING    LIFE.  45 

liberty  and  cheerfulness  ;  lying  artifice,  skill  in  business ; 
sordid  avarice,  frugality.  So  in  the  opposite  treatment  of 
virtue,  it  endeavors  to  degrade  this  into  vice.  True  religion 
is  sour  puritanisra,  hypocritical  cant ;  tenderness  of  con- 
science, narrowness  of  mind  ;  zeal  for  truth,  bigotry.  Now, 
my  young  friends,  do  not  be  imposed  upon  by  such  shallow 
artifices  as  these  :  recognize  in  such  attempts,  a  wicked  and 
daring  attempt  to  confound  all  moral  distinctions  ;  and  which 
must,  of  course,  bring  upon  itself  the  woe  denounced  against 
those  ''  who  call  evil  good,  and  good  evil."  Disdain  this 
cajolery,  this  attempt  to  impose  upon  your  understanding  by 
merely  changing  the  names  of  things,  while  the  things  them- 
selves remain  the  same.  Consider  not  only  that  your  moral 
nature,  but  your  intellectual,  is  insulted  by  such  a  feeble  effort 
to  mislead  it.  Take  it  with  you  as  a  maxim  of  great  import- 
ance to  remember,  and  an  evil  to  be  avoided, — that  the 
generality  of  men  are  more  governed  by  words  and  names 
than  by  things,  and  never  more  so  than  on  matters  of  moral 
good  and  evil.  Endeavor  on  the  contrary  to  be  governed 
by  things  rather  than  names. 

And  then  in  tracing  the  deceitfulness  of  sin,  mark  the 
excuses  it  makes  for  itself — the  insensible  degrees  by  which 
it  leads  on  the  sinner  in  his  course  ;  first  tempting  to  little 
gins — thus  preparing  him  for  greater  ones  ;  first  urging  only 
to  single  sins — afterwards  soliciting  a  repetition  ;  first  asking 
for  secret  sins — soon  emboldening  him  for  open  ones  ;  first 
allowing  him  to  sin  in  decent  company — at  length  drawing 
him  into  the  society  of  the  notoriously  wicked  ;  first  allowing 
him  to  blush — then  making  him  to  glory  in  his  shame  ;  first 
leaving  him  content  to  sin  himself — then  prompting  him  on 
to  tempt  others ;  first  telling  him  that  if  he  does  not  choose 
to  go  on,  he  can  soon  and  easily  retrace  his  steps — then  cut 


46  THE  YOUNG  MAN's  FRIEND. 

ting  off  his  retreat  bj  involving  him  in  such  a  complexity  of 
transgression,  that  he  feels  it  almost  necessary  to  go  for- 
ward, adding  sin  to  sin  ;  first  telling  him  repentance  is  too 
soon,  because  his  sins  have  hitherto  been  so  trivial — then 
Buggesting  it  is  too  late,  because  they  have  been  so  great ; 
first  assuring  him  God  is  too  lenient  to  notice  his  beginnings 
of  sin — then  declaring  that  he  is  too  just  to  forgive  his 
crimes — thus  leading  him  into,  and  keeping  him  in,  the  path 
of  transgression.  Such  is  the  true  nature  of  sin — a  horrid 
practical  lie — a  deadly  deceit — the  greatest  imposture  in  the 
universe — the  most  destructive  fraud  ever  perpetrated  in  the 
world's  history.  And  you,  young  men,  are  the  selected  vic- 
tims of  its  wiles.  The  arch  deceiver  is  more  intent  on  you 
than  on  all  else.  There  the  siren  sits  on  the  rocks  of  that 
sea,  which  you  are  just  entering,  sending  forth  her  dulcet 
but  deadly  strains,  enrapturing  you  to  your  destruction — 
making  you  willing  to  be  wrecked,  and  to  die  in  the  arms  of 
this  fatal  enchantress. 

Your  inexperience  endangers  you.  Life  is  an  untrodden 
path.  You  are  only  just  beginning  to  live  ;  its  difficulties, 
dangers,  temptations,  are  all  new  to  you.  You  are  ignorant, 
to  a  considerable  extent,  of  the  machinations  of  Satan,  the 
wiles  of  the  world,  and  the  devices  of  your  own  heart.  You 
are  ignorant  of  your  own  ignorance ;  and  know  not  your 
own  weakness  and  instability.  You  have  hitherto  been  in 
some  measure  sheltered  in  private,  now  you  are  to  be  exposed 
in  public.  Forms  of  iniquity  of  which  hitherto  you  were 
happily  ignorant,  will  rise  up  with  fascinating  appearances 
in  your  path.  Scenes  never  anticipated  by  you,  and  for 
wiiich,  therefore,  you  could  make  no  special  preparation,  will 
open  before  you,  and  ere  you  are  aware  draw  you  by  theii 
Kpecious  attractions  into  temptation.     Sudden  assaults,  and 


ENTERING    LIFE.  4Y 

altogether  new  ones,  will  be  made  upon  your  principles 
before  almost  you  can  have  time  to  buckle  on  your  armor. 
And  what  will  greatly  increase  the  danger  is,  your  own  self- 
confidence,  rashness,  and  impetuosity.  You  give  yourselves 
credit,  perhaps,  for  a  degree  of  sagacity  to  detect,  resolution 
to  vanquish,  and  power  to  overcome  evil,  which  you  do  not 
really  possess.  You  rush  in,  where  others,  possessing  more 
Jinowledge,  caution,  and  experience,  fear  to  tread  ;  you  ad- 
vance boldly  to  a  contest  from  which  it  would  be  your  wisdom 
to  retire  ;  and  you  are  ready  to  resent  it  as  a  disparagement 
of  your  strength  of  mind,  purity  of  heart,  and  resoluteness 
of  purpose,  to  hear  a  suspicion  hinted  that  you  are  in  danger  ; 
and  are,  therefore,  likely  to  add  another  proof  and  example 
that  "  he  who  leaneth  to  his  own  understanding  and  trusteth 
his  own  heart,  is  a  fool.'  Show  me  a  young  man  setting  out 
in  life  with  high  notions  of  his  own  sagacity,  virtue,  resolute- 
ness of  will  and  inflexibility  of  purpose,  and  there^  without  a 
prophet's  inspiration,  I  can  foretel  will  be  a  sad  illustration 
of  the  Scripture  which  declares  that,  "  Pride  goeth  before 
destruction,  and  a  haughty  spirit  before  a  fall.'' 

III.  Then  there  are  dangers  from  the  corrwpt  state  of  so- 
ciety.  With  such  hearts  as  yours,  there  is  in  the  best  state 
of  public  morals,  wickedness  enough  to  constitute  just  ground 
for  alarm  and  for  watchfulness.  It  may  not  be  that  your 
country  is  worse  than  all  others,  or  your  times  more  profligate 
— I  think  they  are  not — but  it  is  enough  to  know  that  the 
aboundings  of  iniquity,  and  the  overflowings  of  ungodliness, 
are  such  as  to  make  all  who  have  any  regard  for  youthful 
purity  afraid.  The  undoubted  fact  of  the  growing  prevalence 
of  infidelity  in  its  most  seductive  forms — the  multiplication, 
as  by  a  fresh  inspiration  of  the  wisdom  from  beneath,  t)f  all 
kinds  of  sinful  indulgence — the  spreading  desecration  of  the 
3 


48 

Sabbath — the  endless  new  stimulants  to  worldly  pleasure — the 
demoralized  state  of  the  public  press — the  new  and  ostenta- 
tious zeal  and  spread  of  Popery — all  combine  to  load  the 
moral  atmosphere  with  the  pestilence  that  walketh  in  dark- 
ness, and  to  send  forth  the  destruction  that  wasteth  at  noon- 
day. Never  were  there  so  many  malign  influences  combin- 
ing and  conspiring  against  the  religion  and  virtue  of  our 
young  men  as  now  ;  and  never  was  it  more  necessary  for 
them  to  be  aroused  to  a  sense  of  their  danger,  and  to  be  put 
upon  their  guard. 

Young  men,  the  world  is  full  of  temptations  :  and  its  im- 
habitants  are  divided  between  the  tempters  and  the  tempted. 
Buckle  on  your  armor  for  you  will  need  it — the  helmet — 
the  breast-plate — the  greaves — the  shield.  The  enemies  are 
lurking  around — the  ambush  is  laid — the  aim  is  taken — the 
arrow  is  fitted  to  the  string — the  bow  is  bent.  Beware  ;  there 
are  evil  companions  to  be  avoided.  What  saith  the  Scripture, 
The  companion  of  fools  shall  be  destroyed;  I  repeat  what  I 
have  said,  the  workhouse,  the  lunatic  asylum,  the  prison,  the 
hulks,  the  convict  ship,  the  gallows,  the  bottomless  pit, — all, 
all,  attest  the  truth  of  this,  by  the  millions  they  have  swal- 
lowed up  in  the  jaws  of  destruction.  Evil  companionship  has 
ruined  more  characters,  more  fortunes,  more  bodies,  and 
more  souls,  than  almost  anything  else  that  could  be  named. 
This  is  one  of  your  first  and  most  pressing  dangers.  It  will 
meet  you  the  next  day  after  you  have  entered  into  life.  The 
social  instinct  is  in  you,  and  it  is  strongest  in  youth.  Man 
is  a  gregarious  animal.  He  is  made  for  society,  and  will 
have  it.  Beware,  beware  then,  I  implore  you,  to  whom  you 
give  your  company,  and  whose  company  you  accept  in  re- 
turn.* You  must  take  your  character,  to  a  certain  extent, 
from  your  company,  as  we:i  as  impart  it  to  them.     Youi 


ENTERING    LIFE.  49 

companions  will  seek,  at  a  time  of  life  when  your  mind  is 
in  a  state  to  receive  the  impression,  to  stamp  their  image 
upon  you  :  and  if  they  did  not,  you  would  insensibly,  perhaps 
designedly,  copy  it.  As  waters,  however  pure  when  they 
issue  from  the  spring,  take  the  color  of  the  soil  through 
which  they  flow — as  animals  transported  from  one  region  to 
another  lose  something  of  their  former  habits,  and  degenerate 
by  little  and  little, — so  character  assimilates  to  that  which 
surrounds  it.  You  may  be  forced  to  have  bad  coiiTiections — 
bad  acquaintance — for  perhaps  you  cannot  avoid  them — but 
you  need  not,  and  for  your  soul's  sake,  and  the  sake  of  every 
thing  dear  to  you,  do  not  have  bad  co??ipanions.  Men  that 
scoff  at  religion — ridicule  the  godly — that  make  light  of  sin, 
and  laugh  at  conscience — that  are  lewd  in  their  actions,  or 
obscene  in  their  conversation — that  are  Sabbath-breakers, 
and  lovers  of  pleasure  more  than  lovers  of  God — that  are 
extravagant  in  their  habits  and  loose  in  their  moral  princi- 
ples— these  are  the  fools  of  whom  Solomon  speaks,  that  will 
bring  their  own  destruction  upon  you,  if  you  do  not  avoid 
them. 

With  much  the  same  emphasis  do  I  warn  you  against  bad 
looks — the  infidel  and  immoral  publications  of  which  such  a 
turbid  deluge  is  now  flowing  from  the  press,  and  depositing 
on  the  land  a  soil  in  which  the  seeds  of  all  evil  will  grow 
with  rank  luxuriance.  Infidelity  and  immorality  have  seized 
upon  fiction  and  poetry,  and  are  endeavoring  to  press  into 
their  service  even  science  and  the  arts.  But  besides  these, 
books  that  inflame  the  imagination  and  corrupt  the  taste, 
that  even  by  their  excitement  unfit  the  mind  for  the  sober 
realities  of  life,  or  that  indispose  it  by  everlasting  laughter 
for  all  that  is  grave,  serious,  and  dignified,  are  all  to  be 
avoided.     In  some  resp'^^cts  bad  books  are  more  mischievous 


50 

than  bad  companions,  since  they  are  still  more  accessible, 
snd  more  constantly  with  us  ;  can  be  more  secretly  consulted, 
and  lodge  their  poison  more  abidingly  in  the  imagination,  the 
intellect  and  the  heart.  A  bad  book  is  it  bad  companion  of 
tne  worst  kind,  and  prepares  for  bad  companions  of  all  other 
kinds. 

There  are  bad  places  also,  which  endanger  you,  as  well  as 
bad  companions  and  bad  books ;  where,  if  you  have  not 
already  formed  bad  companionships,  you  are  sure  to  find 
them.  There  b  \he  tavern,  the  resort  of  drunkards — the 
brothel,  the  r'jsort  of  debauchees — and  the  theatre,  the 
resort  of  both.  All  these  are  the  avenues  to  ruin  :  the 
wide  gates  that  open  into  the  way  of  destruction.  Many 
who  have  been  kept  out  of  the  way  of  these  places  at  home, 
on  entering  life  have  indulged  in  the  first  instance  rather  a 
fjrurient  curiosity  than  an  inclination  to  sin,  and  have 
Jiought  they  would  go  once  to  them,  just  to  see  what  they 
ire,  and  whether  there  is  all  the  harm  that  has  been  repre- 
sented. Fatal  curiosity.  Oh  that  once — that  first  wrong 
itep — that  slip  ofi"  from  the  summit  of  the  inclined  plane. 
The  door  of  evil  was  opened,  never  again  to  be  closed. 
(STever  trust  yourself  even  once  in  a  place  where  you  would 
Dot  feel  justified  in  going  habitually.  Never  go  even  once, 
where  you  are  sure  you  would  not  be  followed  with  the 
approbation  of  your  father,  your  conscience,  and  your  God, 
and  from  which  you  would  not  be  willing  to  go  immediately 
to  the  judgment-seat  of  Christ.  In  illustration  of  the 
danger  of  a  single  visit  to  an  anti- christian  scene  of  amuse- 
ment, I  may  here  repeat  the  fact  which  I  have  given  in 
another  publication,  of  one  of  the  primitive  Christians,  that 
for  a  long  time  resisted  the  importunities  of  a  friend  who 
invited  him  to  witness  the  gladiatorial  fights  in  the  amphi- 


ENTERING    LIFE.  5J 

theatre.  At  lengtb  he  was  suLdued,  but  determined  that  he 
would  sit  with  his  eyes  closed,  and  thus  quiet  his  own  con- 
science, while  he  yielded  to  the  solicitations  of  his  friend. 
An  unusual  shout  of  applause  which  followed  some  display 
of  skill  or  courage,  excited  his  curiosity.  He  opened  his 
eyes,  he  was  interested,  could  not  again  close  them — went 
again  voluntarily — became  a  constant  and  eager  attendant — 
abandoned  Christianity,  and  died  a  pagan.  How  many 
more  have  been  victims  to  one  visit  to  forbidden  places  ! 

I  mention  also  had  habits — habits  of  extravagance  in  the 
way  of  apparel,  ornaments,  and  pleasure-taking.  A  love  of 
gay  personal  appearance,  and  sensual  gratification,  leads  to 
expense ;  and  as  extravagance  must  have  resources,  if 
honesty  and  industry  cannot  supply  them,  dishonesty  will 
create  them.  Be  frugal,  economical,  prudent.  Begin  life 
with  a  determination  to  live  within  your  income.  Have  no 
needless  artificial  wants — dispense  with  the  cigar ;  it  costs 
money,  excites  appetite  for  liquor,  leads  to  evil  company 
and  evil  places ;  and  introduces  other  expenses  and  other 
habits.  Common  and  simple  as  this  habit  seems  to  be,  it 
does  not  always  stop  with  itself.  It  is  within  my  own 
knowledge  that  young  men  have  involved  themselves  in  debt 
and  disgrace  by  this  indulgence. 

And  then  the,  love,  of  jpleasure.  Here  again  is  danger, 
imminent  danger.  Do  you  remember  the  words  of  Solomon 
on  this  subject  ?  "  He  that  loveth  pleasure  shall  be  a  poor 
man."  Prov.  xxi.  17.  Never  was  there  more  occasion  for 
sounding  this  in  the  ears  of  the  public,  than  now.  Men 
were  never  more  bent  upon  pleasure,  and  never  had  the 
opportunities  for  enjoyment  so  much  at  command.  It  is  a 
proof  of  human  depravity  that  science  and  the  arts  never 
give  to  society  a  boon,  but  man's  wickedness  turns  it  into  a 


52  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

means  of  sinning  against  God.  What  an  incentive  to  Sab- 
bath-breaking has  the  Railway  system  proved  !  The  sanc-^ 
tity  of  the  Lord's-day  is  in  danger  of  being  trampled  down 
by  the  unholy  foot  of  pleasure.  Sunday  excursion  trains 
have  become  not  only  a  snare  and  temptation  to  multitudes, 
but  a  source  of  annoyance  to  the  quiet  and  godly  inhabitanty 
of  several  places  on  the  line  of  our  railways.  But  it  is  not 
this  only ;  invention  is  racked  by  those  who  cater  for  the 
public  taste  to  find  new  pleasures,  fresh  gratification  of  sense 
and  appetite.  High  and  low,  rich  and  poor,  young  and  old, 
are  all  hungering  and  thirsting  after  pleasure,  as  if  this 
world  was  given  to  us  for  no  other  purpose  than  to  be  a 
play-grouDd  for  its  inhabitants  ;  to  which  the  multitude  are 
rushing  with  the  atheistic  language  which  the  apostle  puts 
into  the  lips  of  those  who  deny  the  resurrection  of  the  dead, 
"  Let  us  eat  and  drink,  for  to-morrow  we  die.  Young  men, 
we  deny  you  not  pleasure,  but  only  say,  let  it  be  intellectual 
and  spiritual,  rather  than  sensual  ;  individual  and  private, 
rather  than  social  and  public  ;  economical,  rather  than  ex- 
pensive ;  an  occasional  recreation  and  not  an  habitual  pur- 
suit ;  and  such  as  shall  rather  fit  than  disqualify  you  for  the 
business  of  life.  No  man  will  less  enjoy  pleasure  than  he 
who  lives  for  and  upon  it ;  and  paradoxical  as  it  may 
appear,  it  is  true, — the  way  to  cDJoy  pleasure  is  not  to  love 
it  to  a  passionate  excess,  but  to  partake  it  ever  in  modera- 
tion. Honey,  and  other  luscious  sweets,  will  do  to  taste, 
but  not  to  live  or  feast  upon.  Cyprian  beautifully  remarks 
that,  "  The  greatest  pleasure  is  to  have  conquered  pleasure." 
I  repeat  the  impressive  proverb,  '*  He  that  loveth  pleasure 
shall  be  a  poor  man  ;"  for  it  is  an  expensive  taste  which 
grows,  like  every  other,  by  indulgence.  It  will  make  you 
poor   in   youth,  poor   in  manhooa,  poor  in  old  age  ;    and 


ENTERING    LIFE.  63 

tills  is  a  poverty  wblch  no  one  will  pity,  or  be  forward  ta 
relieve. 

Thirdly. — I  will  now  lay  before  you  the  state  of  mind 
which  befits  you  in  this  critical  juncture  of  your  history.  I 
deliberately  select  that  phrase,  critical  juncture.  It  is  such 
whether  you  think  so  or  not, — most  critical ;  and  something 
will  be  gained  by  this  discourse,  if  it  only  bring  you  in  sober 
seriousness  to  respond  to  the  expression,  and  say,  "  Yes,  J 
am  now,  I  own  it,  feel  it,  and  will  reflect  upon  it,  in  the 
crisis  of  my  temporal  and  eternal  destiny."  Indeed  this,  I 
will  confess,  is  my  main  object  and  my  largest  hope  in  these 
discourses.  I  have  not  touched  upon  controversy,  as  I  have 
already  intimated  ;  nor  is  it  my  aim  to  suggest  or  supply 
topics  of  abstract  thought  or  speculative  inquiry  :  neither  is 
it  my  purpose,  if  it  were  in  my  power,  to  gratify  your  curi- 
osity by  novelty,  your  imagination  by  taste,  nor  your  love  of 
dialectics  by  logic.  Time  is  too  short,  life  too  important,  to 
be  all  spent  upon  such  things.  I  have  other  purposes  and 
aims — I  want  to  make  you  morally  reflective  on  your  life 
and  condition — upon  your  character  and  conduct — upon  your 
present  and  future  means  and  plans  of  action,  usefulness, 
and  happiness.  I  am  ambitious  to  check  the  levity  and 
thoughtlessness  with  which  so  many  are  entering  upon  the 
most  momentous  period  of  their  existence  ;  and  without 
producing  an  unnatural  gravity  or  gloom,  and  without  even 
extinguishing  the  joyousness,  happiness,  and  buoyancy  of 
youth — still  to  make  you  deeply  feel  how  solemn  and  event- 
ful is  the  period  of  entering  life.  Remember,  that  as  the 
hour  of  reflection  increases  with  your  years,  so  the  habit 
should  strent^then  also,  and  that  if  it  should  have  awakened 
eolemn  thoughtfulness,  to  consider  that  you  were  ahont  to 


64  THE    YOUNG    IJAn's  FRIEND. 

enter  life,  it  should  excite  no  less  apprebensiveness  to  con 
sider  that  you  have  actually  started  in  the  eventful  race. 
But  still  this  thoughtfulness  should  embrace  some  specific 
subjects,  determine  in  some  active  habits,  and  take  some 
practical  form  and  direction.  Nothing  can  be  less  likely  to 
be  serviceable  to  you  than  a  dreamy  pensiveness — a  moody 
and  morbid  imaginativeness — a  disposition  to  speculate  upon 
the  probabilities  of  life — and  to  spend  that  time  in  creating 
suppositious  conditions,  which  should  be  employed  in  meet- 
ino-  the  real  ones.  The  thouo-htfulncss  that  I  inculcate  is  not 
that  which  supplants  action,  but  prepares  for  it,  incites  to  it, 
and  guides  in  safety  through  it. 

I  will  now  take  up,  and  place  before  you,  the  only  special 
direction  which  the  apostle  Paul  lays  down  for  the  guidance 
of  your  conduct,  "  Young  men  exhort  to  be  sober-minded." 
The  very  injunction  supposes  that  this  is  a  state  of  mind  not 
only  peculiarly  necessary  for  young  men,  but  in  which  they 
are  usually  deficient.  Now  do  not  be  alarmed  at  the  expres- 
sion, and  "  recoil  from  it  as  from  something  which  could 
come  only  from,  and  is  suitable  only  to  old  time-worn  people, 
whose  feelings  are  dried  up  into  a  kind  of  cold  and  stifiened 
prudence,  which  they  wish  to  have  reputed  as  wisdom  ; 
persons  who  having  sufiered  the  extinction  of  all  vivacity  in 
themselves,  envy  the  young  for  possessing  what  they  have 
lost.  A  dull,  heavy,  spiritless,  formal,  and  calculating  thing  ; 
almost  mechanical  in  all  pursuits  and  interests  ;  the  type  of 
a  persoUj  narrow  in  his  notions,  plodding  in  his  operations, 
gloomy  in  his  aspect,  and  placed  wholly  out  of  sympathy 
with  everything  partaking  of  ardor,  sensibility,  adventure, 
and  enthusiasm,  and  at- the  same  time  taking  great  credit  to 
himself  for  all  this.     No ;  we  may  be  quite  si^re  that  Paul's 


1!;NTERING    LIFE.  55 

^  sober-minded  young  men,'  were  not  to  be  examples  of  a 
sapient  formality,  of  a  creeping  prudence,  of  extinguished 
passions,  of  a  cold  aversion  to  animated  interest,^ — in  short, 
not  examples  of  the  negation  of  everything  that  is  really 
graceful  and  excellent  in  youth."* 

What  then  did  he  mean?  What  is  sobriety  of  mind? 
The  predominance  of  true  religion  and  sound  reason  over 
vice  and  folly — temper  and  fancy — imagination  and  passion- 
— absurdity  and  extravagance.  It  is,  in  short,  the  mastery, 
by  judgment,  of  the  imagination,  which  is  so  apt  to  master 
the  young  man.  Imagination,  in  the  minority  of  reason,  is 
the  regent  of  the  soul.  Almost  every  thing  is  looked  at, 
judged  of,  and  ruled  by,  this  mis-calculating  faculty,  which 
is  rendered  more  dangerous  by  the  ardor  of  passion.  Things 
thus  seen  through  a  wrons:  medium  are  distorted  and  dis- 
colored.  Evils  and  dangers  which  to  other  eyes  appear  in 
all  their  magnitude  of  mischief,  appear  to  the  young,  if 
indeed  they  appear  at  all,  reduced  to  almost  invisible  spots ; 
while  little  things  on  the  side  of  good,  are  swelled  out  of  all 
proportion,  and  adorned  with  the  brightest  hues  with  which 
fancy  can  invest  them.  Hope,  untutored  and  unchecked  by 
knowledge  of  the  world  and  experience,  is  ever  building 
castles  in  the  air,  and  treating  as  certainties,  what  all  besides 
perceive  to  be  absolute  improbabilities.  Now  cobriety  of 
mind  is  reason  attaining  to  its  majority,  sanctified  by  reli- 
gion, ascending  the  throne  of  the  soul  to  take  the  sceptre 
out  of  the  hand  of  imagination.  It  means  a  capability  of 
forming  a  right  estimate  of  things  as  they  really  are.  This, 
young  men,  is  what  you  need,  but  of  which  persons  of  your 
age  are  often  lamentably  destitute. 

But  I  will  select  one  or  two  subjects  which  sobriety  of 

*  Lectures  by  John  Foster  on  Sober-mindedneics. 
3* 


56  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

mind  will  especially  bring  under  consideration,  and  of  which 
it  will  lead  you  to  form  correct  ideas. 

— It  will  above  all  things  lead  you  to  a  serious  and  devout 
consideration  of  the  supreme  end  of  life,  I  say  tha 
supreme^  the  chief  end  of  human  existence  ;  since  there  are 
many  subordinate  ones  arising  out  of  our  numerous  and  com- 
plex relations.  Pause  and  ponder  this  question  then,  "  What 
is  the  supreme  end  of  existence  ?"  Mark  well  the  subject ; 
it  is  not  what  are  all  the  ends  of  existence,  but  what  is  the 
supreme  end — life's  great  business — the  one  thing  needful, 
which  being  accomplished,  whatever  else  we  have  missed,  we 
still  have  not  lived  in  vain  ;  but  which  not  having  secured,  we 
have  lived  in  vain,  gain  whatever  else  we  may.  What  is  it  I 
say  ?  Your  errand,  your  object  ?  Surely,  surely,  if  anything 
be  worthy  of  the  attention  of  a  living,  rational  creature,  it 
must  be  the  object  of  life  :  and  if  at  any  time,  at  the  begin- 
ning of  life.  Proceed  not  another  hour — take  up  no  plan, 
no  purpose,  no  pursuit,  till  you  have  settled  the  question, 
^'  What  is  the  supreme  end  of  life  .^"  Whatever  it  be  it  must 
combine  all  the  following  characteristics, — it  must  be  some- 
thing lawful,  which  God  and  your  conscience  approve — some- 
thing appropriate  to  your  character  and  circumstances,  and 
to  all  the  changing  scenes  of  life — something  attainable — 
something  worthy  your  existence — something  adapted  to 
satisfy  the  desires  of  an  immortal  mind,  and  make  you  con- 
tented and  happy — something  which  shall  aid  rather  than 
hinder  you  in  accomplishing  all  the  subordinate  ends  of 
existence — something  which  shall  combine  your  present  with 
your  everlasting  destiny — something,  in  short,  which  God 
himself  has  fixed  upon  and  proposed  to  you,  as  His  supreme 
end  in  your  creation.  Is  not  this  true  ?  Must  not  the  great 
end  combine  all  these  characteristics  1   Answer  me.    Must  it 


ENTERING    LIFE.  67 

not  ?  "What  then,  I  ask,  can  do  this  hut  true  religion  ?  And 
this  does.  Here,  then,  is  the  great  end  of  life — that  religion 
which  leads  to  the  salvation  of  the  immortal  soul, — to  glory, 
honor,  immortality,  and  eternal  life.  "  Compared  with  this, 
the  objects  of  earthly  ambition,  which  engage  the  attention 
and  engross  the  affections  of  many  in  public  life,  are  all  vain, 
empty,  and  unprofitable.  The  eager  strifes  and  ephemeral 
victories  of  political  leaders ;  the  feverish  dreams  of  the 
wealthy  capitalist  and  the  commercial  adventurer,  seem  little 
better  than  toys  and  baubles.  The  sportive  swarms  of  in- 
sects floating  in  the  sun-beams  of  a  summer  evening,  appear 
to  be  a  fit  emblem  of  our  vast  cities  and  their  busy  crowds." 
Believe,  then,  that  the  only  supreme  end  worth  living  for,  is 
an  end  which  shall  endure,  an  end  which  can  never  perish. 
Don't  squander  so  precious  a  boon  as  life  upon  secondary 
objects.  Throw  not  away  your  immortal  soul, — a  jewel 
compared  with  which  "  the  Mountain  of  Light,"  the  noblest 
production  of  the  diamond  mines,  and  the  richest  trophy  of 
our  oriental  conquests,  is  a  thing  of  nought, — upon  the  poor 
perishing  objects  of  an  earthly  ambition. 

Sobriety  of  mind  will  lead  you  also  to  consider  the  short- 
ness and  uncertainty  of  life,  and  the  necessity  of  being  ever 
prepared  to  surrender  the  precious  gift ;  and  prepared  by 
having  secured  that  which  is  of  the  highest  importance. 
The  man  who  has  achieved  the  chief  end,  is  prepared  at  any 
moment  to  give  up  in  death  the  subordinate  ends  ;  while  he 
who  has  sought  only  the  subordinate  ones,  is  never  ready  to 
give  them  up.  He  who  has  true  piety,  however  young  he 
may  die,  has  effectually  accomplished  the  chief  purpose  of 
his  creation ;  while  he  who  neglects  religion,  whatever  of 
rank,  wealth,  honor,  or  even  earthly  usefulness,  he  may  have 
acquired,  and  however  long  he  may  live  to  enjoy  them,  has 


58  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

missed  the  chief  end  of  his  being  ;  and  if  he  were  aware  of 
his  folly,  and  confessed  it,  would  say  his  life  had  been  a  lost 
adventure. 

Equally  true  is  it,  that  such  a  state  of  mind  requires  the 
adoption  of  the  principles  necessary  to  secure  the  end  of 
life — in  other  words,  true  religion.  A  strong  habitual  faith 
in  the  Bible — in  God — in  Christ — in  Providence — in  judg- 
ment— in  heaven  and  hell.  Faith  not  only  expresses  itself 
in  worship,  in  religious  emotions,  in  zeal,  in  alms-deeds,  but 
in  enlightened  and  tender  conscientiousness  both  towards 
God  and  man,  and  in  a  systematic  and  strong  restraint  upon 
the  passions,  fancy,  temper,  and  appetites. 

In  entering,  then,  upon  life,  take  religion  with  you.  This 
will  ensure  you  the  protection  of  omnipotence  ;  the  guidance 
of  omniscience  ;  the  companionship  of  omnipresence  ;  the 
supplies  of  all-sufficiency.  It  will  fill  your  intellect  with 
the  thoughts  of  God's  own  mind,  and  your  soul  with  the  joy 
of  God's  own  heart,  and  thus  furnish  you  at  once  with  the 
supreme  truth  and  the  chief  good.  It  will  set  before  you 
the  most  perfect  examples  and  the  strongest  motives  to  the 
practice  of  holiness  and  virtue.  It  will  add  the  sanctity  of 
the  Christain  to  the  virtue  of  the  moralist,  and  mingle  its 
own  heavenly  pleasures  with  the  pure  delights  of  earth.  It 
will  prepare  you  either  for  success  or  failure  in  business,  and 
preserve  you  equally  from  the  snares  of  prosperity  and  the 
withering  blasts  of  adversity.  It  will  be  your  nurse  in  sick- 
ness, your  companion  in  solitude,  and  your  preserver  amidst 
the  corruptions  of  society.  It  will  be  your  shield  against 
the  temptations  to  sin,  and  the  insiduous  attacks  of  infidelity 
end  false  philosophy.  It  will  go  with  you  across  the  sea, 
and  dwell  with  you  in  a  foreign  land,  if  called  by  Providence 
to  leave  your  native   country,  or  make  you  honorable  and 


ENTERING    LIFE.  50 

useful  members  of  the  community,  if  you  remain  at  home. 
It  will  be  the  guide  of  your  youth,  the  protector  of  your 
mediaeval  life,  and  the  prop  of  your  old  age.  It  will  prepare 
you  for  early  death,  or  for  a  multitude  of  years.  It  will 
smooth  the  pillow  of  death,  by  giving  you  immortal  hopes 
amidst  the  dissolution  of  nature — will  rise  with  you  from  the 
grave  in  that  day  when  death  shall  be  swallowed  up  in 
victory,  and  having  put  you  in  possession  of  glory,  honor, 
immortality,  and  eternal  life,  shall  dwell  in  your  soul  for- 
ever, as  the  chief  element  of  your  heavenly  and  immortal 
felicity. 

But  still  I  would  not  forget  that  there  are  things  on  earth, 
to  be  attended  to  as  well  as  thino;s  in  heaven  :  and  religion, 
as  we  have  already  said,  neither  detaches  you  from  them  nor 
unfits  you  for  them  :  and  next  to  this  due  regard  to  the 
claims  of  God,  and  as  a  part  of  them,  industry  and  diligence 
in  business  are  indispensable.  Honesty  to  your  employers 
requires  this.  You  have  contracted  with  them  for  so  much 
stipend,  to  give  them  your  time,  the  faculties  of  your  mind, 
and  the  organs  and  members  of  your  body.  That  man  who 
does  not  serve  his  employer  to  the  best  of  his  ability,  is  to 
all  intents  and  purposes  a  thief,  not  by  robbing  his  master's 
goods,  but  his  time  ;  and  I  would  give  nothing  for  his  moral 
principle  who  can  defraud  his  employer  even  of  this.  It  is 
not,  however,  merely  in  this  light  that  I  speak  now  of  indus- 
try, but  as  your  own  safeguard  : 

"  For  Satan  finds  some  mischief  still 
For  idle  hands  to  do." 

Our  idle  days  are  his  busy  ones.  An  indolent  young  man 
invites  temptation,  and  will  soon  become  a  prey  to  it. 
Indolence  unmans  the  faculties,  impairs  and  debilitates  the 


GC  THE    YOUXO     man's    FRIEND. 

whole  intellectual  system.  One  way  or  other,  be  always 
employed.  An  idle  man  is  the  most  miserable  of  all  God's 
creatures  ;  a  contradiction  to  nature,  where  nothing  is  at 
rest.  Among  all  other  habits  that  you  form,  next  to  religion, 
the  most  valuable  acquisition  is  a  habit  of  activity.  This 
must  be  got  in  youth,  or  never.  Keep  the  ethereal  fire  of 
your  soul  alive  and  glowing  by  action.  The  diligent  man  is 
the  protected  man.  Temptation  comes  and  addresses  him, 
but  he  is  pre-occupied ;  he  says,  *'  I  am  too  busy  to  attend 
to  you."  Not  only  have  occupation,  but  love  it.  Let  your 
mind  take  a  pleasure  and  a  pride  in  its  own  action.  Nature, 
it  is  said,  abhors  a  vacuum,  and  if  nature  does  not,  you 
should. 

Fourthly: — Let  me  now  lay  before  you  a  few  opposite 
extremes^  which  in  passing  through  life,  it  is  necessary  you 
should  avoid  ;  and  with  which,  when  just  entering  upon  it, 
you  should  be  intimately  acquainted. 

Avoid,  then,  on  the  one  hand,  a  depressing  solicitude,  and 
on  the  other,  an  utter  carelessness  and  lethargic  indiflPerence 
about  the  future — a  disposition  to  distress  the  mind  by  the 
question,  '*  How  am  I  to  get  on  .^"  or  in  the  opposite  ex- 
treme, a  total  destitution  of  all  forethought,  or  care  about 
the  matter.  The  former  is  not  only  a  distrust  of  Providence, 
but  it  defeats  its  own  ends,  by  wasting  those  energies  of 
mind  in  useless  care,  which  should  be  employed  in  prepara- 
tory productive  action  :  while  the  latter  casts  away  that 
partial  pre -science  which  is  given  to  us  for  wise  and  gracious 
purposes.  Be  hopeful,  but  not  sanguine  ;  moderate,  but  not 
indififerent.  Let  your  expectations  be  sufficiently  high  to 
encourage  exertion,  but  not  so  extravagant  as  to  bewilder 
them. 

Equally  to  be  avoided,  as  connected  with  this,  is  inordinate 


ENTERING    LIFE.  61 

ambition  to  rise  in  life,  and  the  opposite  extreme  of  that  lo\v 
and  creeping  satisfaction  with  thinojs  as  they  are,  which  is 
rather  the  result  of  an  indolent  and  abject  mind,  than  of  a 
contented  one.  The  determination  by  any  and  by  all  mean? 
to  get  on,  and  the  lazy  disposition  to  use  none,  are  equi-dis- 
tant  from  moral  excellence.  Determine  to  do  all  that  skill, 
industry,  frugality,  and  honorable  principle  can  accomplish 
in  the  way  of  advancement,  and  nothing  more.  Set  out  in 
life  thoroughly  convinced  of  the  truth  of  the  apostolic  declar- 
ation, "  They  that  will  be  rich,  fall  into  temptation  and  a 
snare,  and  into  many  foolish  and  hurtful  lusts,  which  drown 
men  in  destruction  and  perdition.  For  the  love  of  money  is 
the  root  of  all  evil,  which  while  some  coveted  after,  they 
have  pierced  themselves  through  with  many  sorrows." 
Young  men,  guard  against  this  low,  sordid,  mischievous 
appetite — this  coveting  of  wealth  for  its  own  sake  :  and 
which  is  determined  to  get  it — if  by  fair  means,  well,  if  not 
by  foul  means.  Begin  your  career  of  honest  and  honorable 
industry,  with  the  poet's  prophetic,  sarcastic  aphorism,  be- 
fore your  eyes, 

"That  loudest  laugh  of  hell,  the  pride  of  dying  rich." 

Guard  against  the  self-diffidence,  distrust,  and  despond- 
ency, which  would  lead  you  to  form  too  low  an  opinion  of 
your  own  capability  and  resources,  and  the  complacent  self- 
reliance,  confidence,  and  canceit,  which  would  lead  you  to 
think  you  can  do  every  thing.  While  you  do  not  lean  alto- 
gether upon  your  own  understanding,  and  trust  implicitly  to 
your  own  heart,  remember  they  can  both  do  something  for 
you,  and  are  both  to  be  employed.  Start  upon  the  journey 
of  life  with  the  conviction  that  you  can,  with  God's  help  and 
blessing  do  something — yea,  much  for  yourself.     Have  f^iith 


62  THE    YOUNG    MAN's    FRIEND. 

in  God  first  of  all — and  next  to  this,  have  faith  in  yourselves 
as  God-sustained.  Enter  into  the  apostle's  words — catch 
their  spirit — imitate  their  union  of  personal  activity,  and  con- 
fidence, and  divine  dependence,  "  Through  Christ  strength- 
cnino^  me  I  can  do  all  thino-s." 

Take  heed  against  flexibility  of  principle,  purpose,  and 
character,  in  reference  to  what  is  right,  and  obstinate  perse- 
verance in  what  is  wrong.  Be  master  of  yourself.  Have  a 
will  of  your  own.  Be  governed  by  your  own  convictions 
Knowing  what  is  right,  do  it,  though  you  stand  alone,  and 
though  the  world  laugh  in  a  chorus.  Possess  a  due  degree 
of  moral  courage,  which  while  it  leaves  you  in  possession  of 
a  true  shame  of  doing  what  is  wrong,  shall  extinguish  all 
false  shame  of  doing  what  is  right.  It  is  a  noble  sight  to 
behold  a  young  man  stand,  with  his  back  against  the  wall 
of  truth,  and  then  with  the  shield  of  faith,  repel  the  arrows 
of  a  multitude  of  assailants.  Be  an  oak,  not  an  osier.  Let 
it  be  seen  that  you  can  resist  the  force  of  persuasion — the 
influence  of  oratory — the  contagion  of  sympathy  with  numbers 
— the  ridicule  of  the  witty — and  the  sarcasms  of  the  scorn- 
ful. It  is  a  great,  and  a  good,  and  a  glorious  thing,  to  be 
able  in  some  circumstances  to  say,  "  No  ;"  and  to  stand  by 
it.  On  the  other  hand,  it  is  no  less  great,  and  good,  and 
glorious,  to  say,  "  Yes,  I  am  wrong,"  when  charged  with 
an  error,  and  convinced  that  we  have  committed  one.  An 
obstinate  perseverance  in  a  bad  course,  to  avoid  the  shame 
and  humiliation  of  confessing  that  we  are  wrong,  is  neither 
dignity  nor  greatness  of  mind,  but  stubborn  imbecility  ;  the 
obstinacy  of  a  brute — under  the  direction  not  so  much  of 
the  reason,  as  the  will,  of  a  man. 

Avoid  a  total  indiflference  to  the  good  opinion  of  others, 
and  equally  a  craving  after  admiration  and  applause.     Seek 


ENTERING    LIFE.  63 

to  be  approved  rather  than  to  be  admired.  Covet  the 
esteem  of  the  wise  and  the  good ;  but  do  not  hunger  after 
the  indiscriminate  praise  of  any  and  every  one.  Rather  seek 
to  be  excellent,  than  desire  to  be  thought  so.  To  wish, 
however,  to  stand  well  with  those  whose  praise  is  virtuous, 
is  lawful ;  but  to  be  ever  anxious  for  the  admiration  of  others 
is  contemptible.  The  former  is  itself  an  exercise  of  virtue, 
the  other  an  offering  at  the  shrine  of  vanity.  G-uard  against 
this  vanity,  it  will  make  you  far  more  solicitous  about  praise 
than  principle,  and  make  you  willing  to  sacrifice  the  one 
for  the  other. 

Avoid  the  extremes  of  credulity  and  suspicion  in  refer- 
ence to  mankind,  of  trusting  every  body,  as  if  all  were 
worthy  of  your  confidence,  and  of  trusting  nobody,  as  if  all  were 
knaves.  Be  cautious  whom  you  trust,  but  do  not  suppose 
that  every  one  will  betray  you.  It  is  well  to  be  reserved,  but 
not  to  be  suspicious — to  be  prudent,  but  not  misanthropic. 
On  the  other  hand,  as  the  danger  of  the  young  lies  rather 
in  being  too  frank,  open  and  ingenuous,  than  too  retiring  and 
exclusive,  study  well  the  character  of  every,  or  any  one, 
before  you  give  them  your  confidence. 

Fifthly. — Perhaps  I  cannot  do  better  than  add  to  all  I 
have  said,  a  few  maxims,  which  may  be  considered  as  con- 
densing  some  parts  of  the  substance  of  this  sermon,  and 
which,  as  most  easily  remembered,  may  be  of  some  service 
to  you  in  your  progress  through  life. 

Your  future  history  and  character  will  be  in  great  mea- 
sure of  your  own  making — therefore  pause  and  consider 
what  you  will  make  yourself. 

What  you  would  be  in  future,  that  begin  to  be  at  once 
for  the  future  is  not  at  a  great  distance,  but  close  at  hand ; 
the  moment  next  to  the  present  is  the  future  ;  and  the  nex< 
action  helps  to  make  the  future  character. 


64  THE  YOUNG-  man's  friend. 

"While  you  consult  your  friends  on  every  important  step, 
which  is  at  once  your  duty  and  your  privilege,  rely  less  upon 
them  than  upon  yourself;  and  ever  combine  self-reliance 
with  dependence  upon  God,  whose  assistance  and  blessing 
come  in  the  way  of  your  own  industry. 

If  setting  out  in  life  in  the  possession  of  property,  let 
your  dependence  for  success  after  all,  be  less  upon  this,  than 
upon  industry.  Industry  creates  capital,  but  capital  to  begin 
with,  has  in  many  cases  impaired  industry  and  made  a  man 
careless  and  improvident.] 

Consider  the  importance  of  the  first  wrong  step.  That 
first  leads  to  many  others,  and  may  be  more  easily  avoided 
than  every  one  that  follows. 

True  religion,  which  means  the  habitual  fear  of  God  and 
sin,  is  your  best  friend  for  both  worlds  ;  multitudes  owe  their 
all  to  it ;  and  multitudes  more  that  have  been  ruined  by 
vice,  folly,  and  extravagance,  would  have  been  saved  from 
all  this,  had  they  lived  in  the  fear  of  God. 

They  who  would  live  without  religion  would  not  die  with- 
out it ;  but  to  enjoy  its  comforts  in  death,  we  must  submit 
to  its  influence  in  life  ;  and  they  who  would  have  it  in  life, 
should  seek  it  in  youth. 

The  perfection  of  human  character  consists  of  piety, 
prudence,  and  knowledge.     Make  that  noble  trial  your  own. 

Whatever  specious  arguments  infidelity  may  put  forth 
in  defence  of  itself,  and  whatever  objections  it  may  bring 
against  Christianity,  hold  fast  the  Bible  till  the  infidel  can 
furnish  you  a  more  abundant  evidence  of  truth — a  better 
rule  of  life — a  more  copious  source  of  consolation — a  surer 
ground  of  hope — and  a  more  certain  and  glorious  prospect 
of  immortality.  And  remember  that  spiritual  religion  is  a 
better  defence  against  the  seductions  of  infidelity  and  false 
philosophy  than  the  most  powerful  or  subtle  logic. 


ENTERING    LIFE.  65 

Enter  upon  life  as  you  would  wish  to  retire  from  it,  and 
spend  time  on  earth  as  you  would  wish  to  spend  eternity  in 
heaven. 

I  now  leave  the  subject  for  your  most  devout  and  serious 
reflection.  Entering  into  life  !  How  weighty  the 
phrase — how  momentous  the  consideration — how  solemn  the 
anticipation  !  A  hundred  million  perhaps  of  your  fellow- 
creatures  are  at  this  moment  like  you  entering  into  life. 
What  an  infinity  of  weal  and  woe  is  bound  up  in  the  history 
of  that  vast  aggregate  of  human  beings.  But  this,  all  this, 
is  of  less  consequence  to  you  than  that  one  life  on  which  you 
are  entering.  For  in  the  history  of  our  world — in  the  con- 
vulsions of  nations — in  the  revolutions  of  empires — in  the 
stream  of  universal  history — yea,  in  the  chronicles  of  all 
other  worlds  than  your  own — there  is  less  to  affect  your 
happiness,  than  in  that  one  life  which  is  before  you.  You 
are  in  life — you  cannot  go  back — you  must  go  on.  Whether 
you  shall  exist  or  not,  is  not  left  to  your  option,  it  is  a 
question  settled — you  are  in  being,  never,  no  never,  to  go 
out  of  it.  What  you  have  to  determine  is — and  oh  !  what  a 
determination — How  existence  shall  be  spent,  and  whether 
it  shall  be  an  infinite  and  eternal  blessing,  or  an  infinite  and 
eternal  curse.  In  view  of  such  a  career,  let  me,  with  an 
importunity  which  words  are  too  meaningless  to  express, 
beseech  you  to  take  up  the  language  of  the  text,  as  the  rule 
of  your  conduct, — "  In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge 
Him,  and  He  shall  direct  thy  paths." 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  ENTERING  LIFE  UNDECIDED 
IN  RELIGION. 


"  And  Elijah  came  unto  all  the  people,  and  said  how  long  halt  ye 
between  two  opinions  ?  If  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him ;  but  if  Baal, 
then  follow  him."— 1  Kings  xviii.  21. 

The  scene  to  which  the  text  refers,  and  of  which  it  forms 
a  part,  is  one  of  the  most  sublime  and  the  most  important 
to  be  found  in  the  whole  range  of  universal  history — being 
no  less  than  the  great  trial  between  true  and  false  religion 
in  answer  to  the  challenge  of  Elijah,  and  which  terminated 
so  gloriously  in  the  complete  triumph  of  the  former.  A 
strange  and  almost  incurable  propensity  to  idolatry  has  ever 
been  evinced  by  the  human  race,  obviously  springing  from 
that  depravity  of  their  nature  which  made  them  crave  after 
deities  congenial  to  their  own  moral  taste.  The  spirituality 
and  purity  of  the  true  God  offended  them.  They  could  not 
be  content  with  a  religion  of  which  faith  was  the  great  prin- 
ciple of  action  ;  but  coveted  objects  of  worship  which  could 
be  presented  to  the  senses,  and  which  would  be  tolerant  of 
their  vices.  Among  the  idol  gods  of  antiquity,  Baal  sustained 
a  distinguished  place,*     Such  is  the  power  of  example,  espe- 

*  The  name  Eaal  is  a  common  appellative,  and  was  originally  em- 
ployed to  designate  the  true  God  ;  but  when  idolatry  arose,  it  was  ap. 


INDECISION    IN    IlELIGICUS    CHARACTER.  67 

cially  when  it  falls  in  with  our  corrupt  inclinations,  that  the 
Jews,  notwithstanding  the  revelation  they  had  received  froii 
God,  and  the  care  he  took  to  preserve  them  from  the  abomi- 
nations of  the  surrounding  nations,  often  forsook  the  worship 
of  Jehovah  for  idols,  or  attempted  to  incoporate  idolatry 
with  Judaism.  The  kingdom  of  the  ten  tribes  was  in  this 
respect  the  most  guilty.  Ahab,  one  of  the  wickedest  of  their 
monarchs,  had  married  Jezebel,  the  daughter  of  the  king  of 
the  Zidonians,  by  whom  Baal  was  worshipped.  Through  the 
influence  of  this  wicked  woman,  the  worship  of  Baal  was 
patronized  to  a  enormous  extent  in  the  kingdom  of  Israel. 

pYied  to  the  various  objects  of  false  worship.  It  is  supposed  by  some 
that  as  the  worship  of  the  heavenly  bodies  was  the  first  departure 
from  the  true  religion,  Baal  was  the  representative  of  the  sun.  This 
was  the  God  of  the  Phoenicians,  Carthaginians,  the  Assyrians,  Babylo- 
nians, and  indeed  of  many  other  nations ;  by  whom  he  was  variously 
designated  Baal,  Belus,  or  Bel.  This  deity,  under  other  names,  was 
probably  the  Chronos  of  the  Greeks,  and  the  Saturn  of  the  Latins.  It 
is  a  little  remarkable  that  we  do  not  find  the  name  Baal  in  use  east  of 
Babylonia,  but  it  was  general  west  of  it,  to  the  very  extremity  ot 
Europe,  including  the  British  Isles.  The  worship  of  Bel,  Belus,  Bele- 
nus,  or  Belinus,  in  an  incorporation  with  Druidical  rites,  was  general 
throughout  the  British  Islands ;  and  certain  of  those  rites  and  obser- 
vances are  still  maintained  among  us,  notwithstanding  the  establish- 
ment of  Christianity  through  so  many  ages.  A  town  in  Perthshire  is 
called  Tilliebeltane,  i.  e.,  the  rising-ground  of  the  fire  of  Baal.  In  Ire- 
land, Bel-tein  is  celebrated  on  the  twenty-first  of  June  at  the  time  of 
the  sols-tice.  A  fire  is  kindled  on  the  tops  of  the  hills,  and  the  mem- 
bers of  the  families  pass  through  the  fire,  which  they  account  a  sign 
and  means  of  good  fortune  for  the  year.  Bel-tein  is  also  observed  in 
Lancashire.  In  North  Wales,  a  similar  ceremony  is  now  observed  on 
the  first  of  November,  when  the  people  run  through  the  fire  and  smoke, 
each  one  casting  a  stone  into  the  fire.  If  this  be  correct,  we  have  still 
the  relics  of  Baal  among  us  at  the  distance  of  more  than  three  thousand 
years.  This  is  a  curious  fact  in  archaeology.  See  Watson's  Biblical 
Dictionary. 


G8  THE  YOUNG  MAN  S  FRIEND. 

Against  this  abomination  the  prophet  Elijah,  with  the  dauntlcsr 
courage  of  a  reformer,  set  himself  in  determined  opposition 
After  reproving  the  monarch  and  rousing  against  him  the 
malignity  of  Jezebel  who  sought  his  destruction,  he  sent  a 
challenge  to  Ahab,  to  put  the  claims  of  Baal  and  Jehovah  tc 
a  fair  and  decisive  test.  In  an  evil  hour  for  the  credit  of 
Baal,  the  challenge  was  accepted  :  the  scene  of  contest  was 
the  solitudes  of  Mount  Carmel,  overlooking  the  Mediterra- 
nean sea  :  the  decision  was  to  be  made  by  each  party  pre- 
paring a  sacrifice,  and  calling  upon  their  God  to  answer  by 
fire.  It  was  an  august  and  awful  spectacle  ;  the  question  to 
be  determined  was  to  whom  rightly  belongs  the  throne  of 
Deity.  There  on  one  side  were  Baal's  priests,  arranged  in 
troops,  to  the  number  of  four  hundred  and  fifty,  patronized 
by  the  monarch  and  his  wife,  full  of  confidence,  and  flushed 
with  hopes  of  victory.  On  the  other  appeared  one  solitary 
man — unaccompanied — unbefriended  —  unpatronized  —  un- 
protected by  a  single  individual  that  was  visible  to  the  eye 
of  sense.  That  solitary  individual  was  Elijah,  the  prophet 
of  the  Lord.  Calm  and  undismayed  :  strong  in  the  Lord 
and  in  the  power  of  his  might ;  assured  of  the  triumph  that 
awaited  him  ;  he  surveyed  the  array  of  priests,  the  frown  of 
Ahab,  and  the  malignant  eye  of  Jezebel  flashing  fury  and 
revenge.  What  dignity  in  his  looks,  and  what  majesty  in 
his  deportment.  The  congregated  thousands  of  Jewish 
spectators  witnessed,  in  awful  silence,  the  preparations. 
Heaven,  with  serene  confidence,  and  hell,  with  dread  and 
dismay,  watched  a  scene,  which  not  only  for  that  occasion, 
but  for  all  time,  was  to  decide  whether  Jehovah  or  Baal  was 
the  true  God.  How  much  was  at  stake — what  interests 
were  involved — what  a  question  was  to  be  decided  !  One 
can  imagine  all  nature  was  hushed  in  dread  suspense — that 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  69 

the  waves  of  the  Mediterranean  ceased  to  roll — that  the 
winds  of  heaven  were  still — that  the  forests  of  Carmel  were 
listening.  In  this  critical  moment  of  our  world's  moral 
history,  the  prophet  broke  the  solemn  silence  which  reigned 
for  a  while  over  the  scene.  Advancing  to  the  assembled 
multitude  of  Israelites,  he  said,  "  How  long  halt  ye  between 
two  opinions  ?  If  the  Lord  be  God,  follow  him  ;  if  Baal, 
then  follow  him.  Ye  are  not  yet  in  conviction,  .quite  alien- 
ated from  the  Lord  God  of  your  fathers,  the  God  of  Abra- 
ham, and  Isaac,  and  Jacob  ;  but  your  allegiance  is  shaken, 
and  you  are  divided  in  opinion  and  practice  between 
Jehovah  and  Baal.  Your  irresolution  is  as  guilty  as  your 
suspense  must  be  painful  ;  and  your  indecision  is  as  uncom- 
fortable as  it  is  dishonorable  and  wicked.  Ye  worship 
Baal.  I  worship  God.  I  am  here  to  prove  which  has  the 
rightful  claim  to  your  fealty  and  obedience*  Upon  that 
which  1  now  propose  1  will  rest  the  issue  of  the  present 
contest.  Let  each  party  prepare  a  sacrifice,  and  call  upon 
his  God  ;  and  the  God  who  answers  by  fire,  let  him  be  con- 
sidered as  the  true  God."  You  know  the  sequel;*  and  I 
drop  the  narrative,  only  turning  back  for  one  moment  to 
dwell  upon  the  indecision  of  the  people  :  they  halted  between 
two  opinions.  Yoio  wonder  at  their  indecision,  and  conJemu 
them  with  language  of  severest  reprobation ;  and  very 
justly  so.  But  do  you  not  in  this  also  condemn  yourselves  ? 
Are  not  you  undecided  in  a  case  which  if  not  so  palpable  to 
the  senses,  is  no  less  plain  to  the  judgment  ? 

*  Iiifidel  wits  have  flippantly  asked,  ''  Where  did  the  people  get  the 
water  to  fill  the  trenches  at  the  command  of  the  prophet,  since  the 
drought  had  caused  all  the  water  of  the  land  to  fail  ?"  They  forget, 
as  they  generally  do,  when  they  offer  skeptical  observations,  the  one 
main  fact  of  the  case,  that  the  scene  of  the  contest  was  very  near  the 
sea-shore. 


70  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

But  before  I  describe  the  nature,  and  pronounce  the  char- 
acter of  your  indecision,  let  me  set  before  you  the  opposing 
parties  in  reference  to  which  it  is  maintained.  This  house 
shall  be  to  you  what  Mount  Carmel  was  to  the  assembled 
Israelites — the  place  of  challenge,  of  trial,  and  decision. 
There  on  the  one  hand  is  the  Lord  God  of  Hosts,  the 
Jehovah  of  the  Jews,  under  the  fuller  and  clearer  manifesta- 
tion of  himself,  as  the  God  and  Father  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ — there  is  his  minister,  demanding  the  acknowledg- 
ment of  his  claims — and  there  is  laid  down  his  service  in  the 
faith,  hope,  and  love  of  the  gospel.  On  the  other  side  is  the 
modern  Baal,  in  all  the  various  forms  under  which  he  presents 
himself  as  the  object  of  human  idolatry.  It  is  true  you  are 
not  called,  invited,  or  disposed,  to  bow  the  knee  to  idols  of 
wood,  stone,  or  metal,  either  graven  or  molten — either  in  the 
fascinating  forms  of  classic  mythology  ;  the  rude  images  of 
barbarous  worship ;  or  the  grotesque  and  monstrous  crea- 
tions of  Hindoo  polytheism.  These,  however,  are  not  the 
only  ways  in  which  idolatry  may  be  practised.  What,  in  fact, 
are  most  of  the  objects  of  false  worship  but  the  evil  qualities 
and  passions  of  man's  fallen  nature — visible  embodiments  of 
his  own  lusts  and  pleasures  exalted  to  the  skies,  to  be  thence 
reflected  back  with  Olympian  charms  and  splendors ;  or 
sent  down  to  the  infernals,  to  receive  the  stamp  of  their 
authority  and  malignity,  and  to  come  from  either  place  with 
a  sanction  and  a  power  to  make  men  wicked  .?  Every  one 
has  a  god,  and  if  man  does  not  love  and  worship  Jehovah, 
he  will  make  a  deity  of  his  own  image,  and  this  deity  cannot 
surpass  himself. 

Survey,  young  men,  the  idols  which  you  are  called  upon 
from  many  quarters  to  worship,  and  between  which  and  the 
only  living  and  true  God — O  unutterable  folly  and  sin ! — you 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  7l 

are  hesitatiDg.     Among  them,  sustaining  a  high  place,  istho 

idol  of   SENSUALITY, 

"  That  reeling  goddess,  with  a  zoneless  waist," 

decked  out  with  all  that  can  pollute  the  imagination,  inflama 
the  passions,  or  excite  the  propensities  of  a  youthful  heart. 
Before  this  image  multitudes  of  devotees  of  both  sexes  bow 
the  kuee  and  offer  the  most  costly  sacrifices  of  property, 
health,  principle,  and  reputation.  Near  this  is  the  bewitch- 
ing and  smiling  image  of  worldly  pleasure,  with  the  sound 
of  music,  the  song,  and  the  dance,  alluring  the  giddy  and 
thoughtless  to  its  orgies,  and  thus  throwing  the  spell  of  its 
fascinations  over  the  imagination  of  multitudes  who  go 
merrily  to  their  ruin.  Mammon,  the  sordid  deity  of  wealth 
is  there,  glittering  with  gold,  and  offering  riches  to  its  eager 
followers  as  the  rewards  of  their  diligent  and  faithful  adher- 
ence. Its  liturgy  is  the  cry  of  *'  money,  money,  money ;" 
and  its  sacrifices — notwithstanding  its  large  promises  of 
happiness — the  time,  the  bodies,  the  soul,  the  principles, 
and  the  comfort  of  its  worshippers  ;  and  its  officials  are  the 
greedy  speculators  and  commercial  adventurers  of  our 
country  and  our  age.  There  is  also  the  Baal  of  infidel 
SPECULATION,  with  falsc  philosophy  as  its  high  priest  to 
conduct  the  ceremonial ;  and  by  the  promises  of  intellectual 
freedom  from  the  shackles  of  superstition,  inviting  the 
youthful  aspirants  after  mental  liberty,  to  come  into  its 
service.  Near  this  is  the  shrine  of  general  knowledge. 
This,  however,  is  evil  only  when  it  is  raised  into  the  place 
of  faith,  piety,  and  virtue ;  but  which  when  it  is  thus  exalt- 
ed above  the  knowledge  of  revelation,  is  the  Minerva  of  the 
idolatrous  Pantheon.  Nor  must  we  leave  out  the  idols  of 
FALSE  RELIGION,  the  chicf  of  wMch  is  Popery — the  antir- 
4 


72  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

Christ  of  the  Apocalypse — the  Man  of  Sin"  described  by 
the  apostle,  as  "  sitting  in  the  temple  of  God  and  exalting 
itself  above  all  that  is  called  Grod."  This  idol,  taking  tho 
name  of  Christ  as  its  designation,  assuming  the  cross  as  its 
symbol,  and  boasting  of  an  apostle  as  its  chief  minister ; 
enriched  by  wealth — venerable  for  antiquity — dignified  by 
learning — decorated  by  sculpture,  architecture,  and  painting 
— and  which  adding  the  profoundest  policy,  and  most  ser- 
pentine craft,  to  all  these  other  dangerous  qualities,  has 
fascinated  countless  millions  ;  and  notwithstanding  the  mon- 
strous absurdity  of  its  doctrines,  the  blood-stained  page  of  its 
history,  and  its  hostility  to  the  liberties  of  mankind — is  now 
putting  forth  the  most  arrogant  claims,  and  making  the  most 
audacious  attempts,  for  the  conquest  of  our  country. 

Such  are  the  principal  idols  which  oppose  themselves  to 
the  King,  eternal,  immortal,  invisible,  as  the  claimants  of 
your  heart.  Such  are  the  objects  which  have  induced  an 
iudetermination  in  your  minds  whether  you  shall  serve  them 
or  your  Creator,  Preserver,  and  Benefactor. 

By  the  undecided  in  religion  I  do  not  intend  the  confirmed 
infidel,  profligate,  or  scoffer  ;  or  those  who  live  in  total  and 
absolute  rejection  of  religion.  These  are  not  undecided ; 
they  are  in  the  fullest  sense  decided  ;  they  have  made  up 
their  minds,  though  unhappily  on  the  wrong  side.  They 
have  chosen  their  God,  and  are  the  determined  and  devoted 
worshippers  of  Baal.  They  are  decided  irreligionists.  They 
have  hardened  their  hearts,  seared  their  consciences,  and 
perhaps  outlived  all  misgivings  upon  the  subject,  except  it 
be  an  occasional  qualm  in  a  season  of  dying  or  of  sickness. 
They  even  congratulate  themselves  upon  their  having  thrown 
off  all  the  weaknesses  and  fears  of  superstition,  and  upon 
their  being  now  enabled  to  pursue  their  downward  course 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  /3 

nnchocked  by  the  restraint  of  conscience,  unterrified  by  the 
spectres  of  imagination.  Unhappy  men — blind,  and  glorying 
in  their  blindness — benumbed  in  all  their  moral  faculties, 
and  exulting  in  this  dreadful  paralysis — with  every  tie  cut 
that  held  them  to  a  Life  of  piety  and  feeling,  and  accounting 
it  a  privilege  that  they  are  drifting  unobstructed  to  perdition 
— determined  to  be  lost,  and  rejoicing  that  nothing  now 
crosses  their  path  to  perdition. 

The  undecided  inan,  generally  considered,  is  the  irresolute 
man — the  man  thinking  of  two  things,  but  absolutely  choos- 
ing, with  full  and  practical  purpose,  neither — the  double- 
minded  man — the  man  who  is  like  a  light  substance  ever 
floating  between  two  objects,  now  carried  by  force  of  the 
tide  towards  one,  and  then  towards  the  other. 

Perhaps  tho  subject  of  indecision  will  be  better  under- 
stood if  we  consider  its  opposite,  and  show  what  is  meant  by 
decision.  By  decision  in  religion  I  do  not  mean  merely  the 
choice  of  a  creed,  or  a  decision  between  conflicting  theories 
of  religious  opinions.  This  is  all  very  well,  and  very  proper, 
and  to  a  certain  extent  is  involved  in  the  decision  I  am 
recommending.  A  man  ought  not  to  be  undecided  either  in 
regard  to  religious  doctrine,  or  ecclesiastical  polity.  It  is 
incumbent  upon  him  to  make  up  his  mind  on  the  question 
at  issue  between  the  advocates  and  opponents  of  secular 
establishments  of  religion  ;  between  the  unitarian  and  trini- 
iarian  views  of  the  Scriptures,  and  other  theological  mat- 
ters. These  things  are  important,  and  his  opinions  should 
be  formed  and  fixed  upon  the  ground  of  satisfactory  evidence, 
and  his  mind  being  once  made  up,  he  should  hold  fast  what 
he  believes  to  be  truth,  nor  allow  his  convictions  to  be 
shaken  by  the  difiiculties,  sophistries,  and  plausibilities 
brought   against   the   views   he   has    espoused.      Religion 


74  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

however,  is  something  more  than  opinion — something  more 
than  ecclesiastical  relationship — something  more  than  cere- 
mony— it  is  not  only  light,  but  life — its  seat  is  not  only  in 
the  head,  but  in  the  heart — it  is  a  thing  of  the  will,  affec- 
tions, and  conscience,  as  well  as  of  the  intellect,  and 
memory,  and  bodily  organs.  It  is  deep  conviction  of  guilt 
in  the  sight  of  God — a  humbling  sense  of  corruption  of 
nature — true  faith  in  Christ  as  the  great  atonement — peace 
through  belief  in  the  gospel — supreme  gratitude  and  love  to 
God — a  spiritual  and  heavenly  mind — and  a  holy  life.  It 
is  the  mind  of  Christ — the  image  of  Grod — the  Bible  lodged 
in  the  heart  as  the  rule  of  the  inward  and  outer  life — a 
God-wrought,  heaven- descended,  eternally -living  thing. 

To  be  decided  then,  is  the  intelligent,  deliberate,  volun- 
tary, entire  and  habitual  yielding  up  of  ourselves,  through 
faith  in  Christ,  and  by  the  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  God  ; 
to  enjoy  His  favor  as  the  chief  good,  to  make  His  will  our 
fixed  supreme  rule,  and  His  glory  the  chief  end  of  our  ex- 
istence. It  is  making  God  the  supreme  object — salvation 
the  supreme  business — eternity  the  supreme  aim.  Not  talk- 
ing about  it — wishing  it — intending  it — but  conscientiously 
doing  it.  Such  a  man  says,  "  I  have  made  up  my  mind — I 
am  resolved — I  am  for  God — for  Christ — for  holiness — for 
salvation — for  heaven — for  eternity — my  heart  is  fixed." 

To  be  W7idecided  is  to  be  in  a  state  of  hesitancy,  irreso- 
luteness,  unfixedness.  An  undecided  man  is  occasionally 
impressed  ;  at  other  times  in  a  state  of  total  indifference. 
His  judgment  inclines  to  religion,  and  sometimes  nearly 
draws  round  his  heart.  He  goes  out  half-way  to  meet  it : 
then  turns  back  again.  Now  he  looks  towards  true  Chris- 
tians as  the  happiest  people,  then  he  hankers  after  the 
company  and  amusements  of  the  people  of  the  world.     He 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  75 

cannot  quite  give  up  the  suLject,  nor  can  he  fully  embrace 
it.  He  has  occasional  impressions  and  wishes,  but  no  fixed, 
deliberate  choice.  In  this  hesitating,  undecided,  irresolute 
state  of  mind,  very  many  are  to  be  found.  Yes — indecision 
is  fearfully  common  ;  perhaps  among  those  whom  I  now 
address,  the  most  common  state  of  mind.  Comparatively 
few  are  decidedly  pious — still  fewer,  I  hope  and  believe, 
decidedly  infidel  or  immoral ;  the  bulk  are  mid-way  between 
the  two — hesitating,  halting,  turning  away/ro7?i  the  one,  but 
not  turning  to  the  other.     How  shall  we  account  for  this  } 

It  is  not  for  the  want  of  adequate  information  on  the  nature 
of  the  two  claimants  and  the  justice  of  their  respective 
claims.  Of  this  you  have  all  possible  and  necessary  partic- 
ulars in  the  Scriptures.  You  are  not  left  to  the  dim  twi- 
light of  nature  and  the  deductions  of  your  own  weak  and 
fallible  reason.  The  sun  of  revelation  has  risen  upon  you  in 
full-orbed  splendor,  and  walking  amidst  his  noon-tide  glory, 
you  see  on  every  hand  the  character  and  the  claims  of  God 
You  know  not  only  there  is  a  God,  but  who  and  what  he  is 

You  are  not  destitute  of  natural  ability — you  are  mit  hin- 
dered by  Divine  sovereignty — there  is  no  invincible  power 
of  natural  depravity — you  cannot  plead  a  want  of  time, 
means,  opportunity — you  do  not  justify  and  perpetuate  it  on 
the  ground  of  Scriptural  difficulties — nor  on  the  inconsisten- 
cies of  professors.  Sometimes  you  may  feel  inclined  to 
plead  these  things,  but  the  plea  is  soon  given  up.-  No,  the 
causes  subsidiary  to  the  power  of  inward  corruption, -are 
these  : — 

Many  do  not  properly  consider  the  necessity  of  decision^ 
and  the  sin  of  hesitation.  The  subject  has  never  seriously 
engaged  their  attention.  If  so,  it  is  high  time  it  should. 
Begin  now — God  demands  it — reason  demands  it — the  im 


76  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

portance  of  the  matter  demands  it.  On  what  is  decision  s« 
necessary  as  on  religion  ?  This  is  the  business  of  the  soul — 
of  salvation — of  eternity. 

Not  a  few  are  wanting  in  moral  courage^ — they  knov* 
what  they  ought  to  be  and  to  do — but  they  have  friends, 
whose  frown  they  dread,  or  companions  from  whose  laugh 
they  shrink.  This  is  very  common  :  and  thus  multitudes 
flee  from  the  frown  of  man  to  take  shelter  under  the  frown 
of  God,  propitiate  their  friends  by  the  sacrifice  of  their  souls, 
— throw  away  religion  and  salvation  to  escape  from  a  jest, — 
and  make  themselves  the  laughing-stock  of  devils,  to  avoid 
the  ridicule  of  fools.  Young  men,  will  you  be  jeered  out  of 
heaven  and  salvation  }  What,  be  turned  from  your  eagle 
flight  to  immortality,  by  the  ridicule  of  owls  and  bats  } 

In  many  cases^  some  one  hesetting  sin  keeps  from  decision. 
That  one  sin  exerts  an  influence  over  the  whole  soul  and  all 
its  purposes — benumbing  its  energies,  beclouding  its  moral 
vision,  bewildering  its  steps,  and  enfeebling  its  efibrts.  Such 
persons  could  give  up  all  but  that  one  sin  ;  but  that  they 
cannot  part  from.  How  melancholy,  how  dreadful,  to  be 
willing  to  perish  for  that  one  sin  !  Rather  than  pluck  out 
that  right  eye,  or  cut  ofi"  that  right  hand,  to  suffer  the  loss 
of  the  whole  body  !  How  infinitely  better  and  more  noble 
would  it  be,  by  one  mighty  struggle,  aided  by  Divine  grace, 
to  burst  that  chain  and  decide  for  God.  Consider  well,  if 
this  is  not,  the  cause  of  indecision  in  your  case,  and  if  it  be, 
perceive  the  necessity  of  your  resolutely  and  immediately 
directing  your  vigorous  resistance  against  that  hindrance. 
When  you  have  mastered  that  mightiest  of  your  spiritual 
foes,  you  may  then  hope  that  the  greatest  obstacle  is  sur- 
mounted ;  and  that  the  subjugation  of  your  other  enemies 
will  be  a  comparatively  easy  conquest.    But  till  that  is  done, 


INDECISION    INT    RELIGIOUS    CnARACTER.  77 

nothing  \nA  be  done  to  purpose  ;  and  he  that  has  been  haU- 
ing  between  two  opinions,  and  wavering  in  his  practice,  will 
be  halting  and  wavering  still. 

There  are  some  who^  like  Fclix^  have  trembledj  and  dis^ 
missed  the  subject  for  a  more  convenient  season.  They  give 
neither  a  direct  negative,  nor  a  direct  affirmative,  to  the  soli- 
citations of  judgment  and  conscience  ;  but  put  them  aside  by 
saying,  "  I  will  think  of  it  when  I  have  opportunity,  I  am 
busy  nowy  Here  and  there  one  goes  further  still, — they 
intend,  actually  intend^  to  be  decided  at  some  time  or  other* 
They  forget  the  uncertainty  of  life — the  frailty  of  human 
resolutions — the  thousand  incidents  that  are  continually 
rising  up  to  occupy  and  divert  attention — the  ever  increas- 
ing improbability  of  coming  to  a  decision  if  the  subject  be 
postponed  from  the  present  moment — and  above  all,  the 
demand  of  God  for  immediate  decision.  Now  is  the  accepted 
time :  now  is  the  day  of  salvation.  There  is  a  world  of 
importance  in  that  seemingly  insignificant  word,  Now.  Mil- 
lions have  been  ruined  for  both  worlds  by  overlooking  the 
momentous  significance  of  the  all  eventful  Now.  Sermons 
might  be  preached — volumes  might  be  written — rhetoric 
might  be  employed,  to  enforce  the  import  of  that  mono- 
pyllable  Now.  Remember  "  he  that  is  now  good  will  in  all 
probability  be  better — he  that  is  now  bad  will  become  worse 
— for  there  are  three  things  that  never  stand  still,  vice, 
virtue,  and  time." 

Perhaps  as  a  hindrance  to  decision  might  be  mentioned, 
mistaken  views  of  what  is  requisite  to  come  to  this  state  oj 
mind.  Two  opposite  errors  are  indulged ;  some  persons 
throwing  out  of  consideration  the  free  agency  of  man,  and 
others  the  sovereign  grace  of  Grod.  The  former  supposing 
that  man  can  do  nothing,   they  attempt  nothing,  but  wait 


78  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEXD. 

passively  for  the  spirit  of  God :  the  latter,  on  the  contrary 
believing  that  man  is  and  does  every  thing  in  religion  with- 
out God,  never  seek  by  prayer  nor  expect  by  faith,  the  aid 
of  the  Divine  Spirit.  Both  are  wrong,  and  therefore  both 
fail.  In  all  things,  both  in  nature  and  in  grace,  God's  doings 
and  man's  doings  go  together.  Man  works,  and  God  works. 
Man's  efforts  are  not  superseded  by  Divine  grace,  nor  Divine 
grace  superseded  by  man's  efforts.  This  dualism  which  per- 
vades all  things,  is  especially  conspicuous  in  the  Bible,  and 
has  its  culminating  point  in  the  conversion  and  sanctifica- 
tion  of  the  human  soul  as  set  forth  in  that  wonderful  pas- 
sage, "  Work  out  your  salvation  with  fear  and  trembling^  for 
it  is  God  that  worketh  in  you  to  will  and  to  do  of  his  good 
pleasure.'^ 

Having  stated  the  causes  of  indecision,  I  now  go  on  to 
consider  its  characteristics. 

1.  Is  it  not  IRRATIONAL  ?  What  is  reason  given  us  for 
but  to  examine  all  things  that  concern  us,  to  weigh  evidence 
to  discriminate  things  that  differ,  to  prove  all  things,  and  hold 
fast  that  which  is  good.  When  man  uses  his  faculties  thus, 
he  does  what  he  was  designed  to  do,  and  answers  the  end  of 
his  being.  When  he  does  not,  but  suffers  himself  to  be 
swayed  and  bent  different  ways,  and  to  float  under  uncertain- 
ties, then  he  forfeits  the  great  prerogative  and  most  distin- 
guishing advantage  of  his  reasonable  nature.  The  perfection 
of  man  is  to  be  like  God  in  his  attributes,  and  among  others, 
in  some  measure  in  this  glorious  one  of  immutability  in  that 
which  is  good  ;  but  to  be  irresolute  and  undecided  in  this,  is 
to  live  as  much  at  random,  and  without  hold,  as  if  the  breath 
of  the  Almighty  were  not  in  us.  "  Indeed,  unless  reason 
gives  us  a  fixedness  and  constancy  of  action,  it  is  so  far  from 
being  the  glory  and  privilege  of  our  nature,  that  it  is  really 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  79 

its  reproach,  and  makes  us  lower  than  '  the  horse  or  mule^ 
which  have  no  understanding :'  for  they  without  that,  act 
always  regularly  and  constantly  themselves,  under  the 
guidance  of  instinct,  a  blind  but  sure  principle."  There  are 
two  things  equ; -distant  from  sound  reason — to  decide  without 
evidence,  and  to  remain,  in  such  matters,  undecided  amidst 
abundant  evidence.  To  be  undecided  in  religion  comes  under 
the  latter  condemnation.  The  irrationality  of  indecision  is 
also  in  proportion  to  the  importance  of  the  matter  to  be 
determined.  Young  men,  I  appeal  to  your  understanding 
against  this  extreme  folly.  What,  is  religion  the  only 
matter  on  which  you  will  not  make  up  your  mind  ?  Religion, 
which  comes  to  you  in  God's  name,  and  asserting  his  claims  ? 
Religion,  which  affects  your  own  well-being  for  both  worlds  ? 
Religion,  which  all  nations  have  confessed  generally  by  their 
rites,  ceremonies,  and  creeds,  to  be  man's  supreme  interest  ? 
Religion,  which  relates  to  the  soul  and  her  salvation,  eternity, 
and  its  unalterable  states  ?  Religion,  your  highest  end  of 
existence,  and  noblest  distinction  of  reason  ?  What  this,  the 
matter  to  be  left  in  a  state  of  unsettledness  and  hesitancy .? 
When  such  means  and  opportunities  are  furnished  for  coming 
to  a  conclusion  ?  When  the  Bible,  with  all  its  evidences, 
doctrines,  promises,  and  precepts,  is  ever  in  your  hand  and 
appealing  to  your  intellect  and  heart,  your  will  and  conscience, 
and  even  your  imagination  ?  When  the  pulpit  and  the  press 
are  ever  calling  your  attention  to  the  subject,  and  aiding 
your  inquiries  ?  Undecided  whether  you  shall  be  saved 
or  lost  for  eternity  ;  whether  you  shall  answer  or  defeat  the 
end  of  your  existence  ?  Whether  you  shall  run  counter  to 
God's  design  in  bringing  you  into  being,  or  fall  in  with  his 
merciful  purposes  concerning  you  }  Call  yoi#thi3  reason  ? 
Talk  not  to  me  of  your  rationality  ;  boast  not  to  me  erf'  your 


80 

high  intellectuality  in  pursuing  literature,  science,  or  the 
arts :  I  say,  the  man  who  remains  undecided  in  religion — who 
has  not  settled  the  question  of  God,  the  soul,  salvation,  and 
eternity,  is,  whatever  stores  of  knowledge  he  may  have 
acquired,  or  whatever  opinion  he  may  have  formed  of  him- 
self, a  learned  maniac,  a  philosophical  lunatic,  a  scientific 
idiot. 

2.  I  go  further,  and  say  that  indecision  in  religion  is  con- 
tempiible.  Whatever  may  constitute  the  heauti/  of  character, 
decision  is  its  power.  There  is  something  noble  and  attrac- 
tive in  the  spectacle  of  an  individual  selecting  some  one 
worthy  object  of  pursuit,  concentrating  upon  it  the  resources 
and  energies  of  his  whole  soul  ;  holding  it  fast  with  a  tena- 
city of  grasp,  and  following  it  with  a  steadiness  of  pursuit, 
which  the  ridicule  of  some,  the  frowns  of  others,  and  the 
ignorant  surmises  of  all,  cannot  relax  :  clinging  the  closer  to 
it  for  opposition,  gaining  courage  from  defeat,  and  patience 
from  delay.  Even  where  all  this  decision  is  displayed  in  a 
bad  cause,  there  is  something  terrifically  grand  about  it. 
Hence  some  have  fancied  that  in  this  way  Milton  has  thrown 
too  much  majesty  over  the  character  of  Satan.  In  opposi- 
tion to  this,  how  despicable  is  indecision.  Foster,  in  his 
inimitable  Essay  on  Decision  of  Character,  has  set  forth 
this  in  a  very  striking  manner.  "  A  man  without  decision 
of  character  can  never  be  said  to  belong  to  himself ;  if  he 
dared  to  say  that  he  did,  the  puny  force  of  some  cause, 
about  as  powerful  you  would  have  supposed  as  a  spider,  may 
make  a  capture  of  the  hapless  boaster  the  next  moment, 
and  triumphantly  exhibit  the  futility  of  the  determinations 
by  which  he  was  to  have  proved  the  independence  of  his 
understanding  and  his  will.  He  belongs  to  whatever  can 
geize  him  :  and  innumerable  things  do  actually  verify  their 


^ 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  81 

claims  on  him,  and  arrest  him  as  he  tries  to  go  along  ;  aa 
twigs  and  chips  floating  near  the  edge  of  a  river,  are  inter- 
cepted by  every  weed,  and  whirled  in  every  little  eddy. 
Having  concluded  on  a  design,  he  may  pledge  himself  to 
accomplish  it,  if  the  hundred  diversities  of  feeling,  which 
may  come  within  the  week,  will  let  him.  As  his  character 
precludes  all  forethought  of  his  conduct,  he  may  sit  and 
wonder  what  form  and  direction  his  views  and  actions  are 
destined  to  take  to-morrow  ;  as  a  farmer  has  often  to  acknow- 
ledge that  the  next  day's  proceedings  are  at  the  disposal  of 
winds  and  clouds." 

True  as  this  is  in  reference  to  anything,  it  is  most  true  in 
reference  to  religion.  Never,  no  never,  is  it  so  supremely 
contemptible  as  in  application  to  this.  In  such  a  career  and 
in  reference  to  such  an  object,  to  be  the  slave  of  imperti- 
nences— the  poor  tame  victim  of  every  little  incident  that 
can  arise — the  prey  of  every  insignificant  yelping  cur  that 
can  drive  you  hither  and  thither  with  his  biteless  bark  !  O 
shame,  shame  upon  your  understanding,  to  say  nothing  of 
your  heart  and  conscience,  when  with  such  a  subject  as  reli- 
gion to  consider  and  settle,  you  can  allow  not  merely  the 
most  magnificent  objects  which  the  world  can  present,  but 
innumerable,  contemptible,  and  sinful  littlenesses,  to  shake 
your  resolution,  to  invalidate  your  purpose,  and  to  keep  you 
halting  between  two  opinions  !  It  is  the  last  and  lowest 
degree  of  despicableness  for  a  man  thinking  about  glory, 
honor,  immortality,  and  eternal  life,  to  allow  himself  to  be 
brought  to  a  stand,  and  made  to  hesitate  and  halt,  by  mat- 
ters of  the  veriest  insignificance.  What  would  have  been 
said  of  the  man  who  in  ancient  times  hesitated  whether  ha 
should  become  a  competitor  for  the  Olympic  crown,  or  for 
gome  paltry  office  in  a  Grecian  village  }     Or  what  would  alJ 


82  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

the  world  have  said  of  Julius  Caesar  had  he  halted  betweeii 
two  opinions,  and  hesitated  whether  to  pass  the  Rubicon  or 
give  himself  up  to  the  celebration  of  the  Saturnalia  ?  Or 
what  judgment  should  we  have  formed  of  Columbus,  if,  when 
meditating  the  discovery  of  a  new  world,  he  hesitated  whether 
to  embark  on  the  Atlantic,  or  engage  in  picking  up  shells 
on  its  shore  r  But  what  are  these  instances  of  folly  and 
littleness,  compared  with  that  of  the  man  who  halts  between 
the  infinite  and  eternal  blessings  of  religion,  and  the  plea- 
sures, acquisitions,  and  possessions  of  this  world  ? 

3.  Indecision  in  religion  is  uncomfortahle.  If  reason  is 
given  us  to  decide  upon  modes  of  action,  and  if  in  this  matter 
of  religion,  revelation  furnishes  us  with  rules^  it  is  most 
natural  we  should  decide,  and  altogether  unnatural  we 
should  remain  for  another  hour  in  a  state  of  wavering  and 
unsettledness.  What  is  natural  is  easy,  and  graceful,  and 
pleasant ;  and  what  is  unnatural  is  always  awkward  and 
painful.  The  natural  state  for  the  mind  to  be  ia,  is  first  in- 
quiry, and  then  decision.  No  mind  can  be  serene  and 
peaceful  in  a  state  of  suspense  and  incertitude.  May  I  not 
appeal  to  uni^^ersal  experience  for  proof,  that  a  man  who  is 
acting  backwards  and  forwards — ever  divided  in  opinion — 
now  determining  one  way  and  now  another — now  fixed  in 
purpose,  then  unsettled  and  altering  the  plan — now  resolute, 
now  hesitating — and  who  has  thus  found  no  bottom  to  rest 
upon,  cannot  be  happy.  This  is  true  in  reference  to  every- 
thing. A  mind  thus  at  odds  with  itself,  even  in  little 
things,  cannot  but  be  very  troublesome — and  he,  therefore, 
who  would  consult  his  own  comfort,  should  by  much  self- 
discipline  endeavor  to  rid  himself  of  this  instability  of  action, 
this  infirmity  of  purpose.  I  would  not,  young  men,  incul- 
cate the  opposite  evil  of  inconsiderate  and  reckless  conduct 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  83 

a  headlong  course  of  action  begun  without  examination,  and 
continued  without  reflection  ;  and  which  even  when  discov- 
ered to  be  wrong,  is  persevered  in  without  alteration,  merely 
for  the  sake  of  perseverance,  and  an  unwillingness  to  confess 
we  are  wrong.  This  is  not  rational  decision,  but  blind  im- 
pulse and  unreflecting  obstinacy.  The  decision  I  recom  • 
mend  is  a  habit  of  patient  investigation,  united  with  a  capa- 
bility of  weighing  evidence,  and  followed  by  a  prompt  and 
resolute  determination  to  do,  and  to  do  immediately  and 
perseveringly,  the  thing  which  ought  to  be  done.  Acquire 
an  ability  to  say  in  matters  of  right,  I  must, — I  can, — I 
WILL.  There  is  a  wonderful  potency  in  these  three  mono- 
syllables.    Adopt  them  as  the  rule  of  your  conduct. 

But  1  now  consider  the  unhappiness  of  indecision  in  regard 
to  religion.  I  repeat  the  assertion  made  in  reference  to 
other  characteristics,  the  more  important  the  subject  is 
about  which  this  indecision  is  maintained,  the  greater  must 
of  course  be  the  uneasiness  which  it  produces  :  and  as  reli- 
gion is  the  most  momentous  of  all  subjects,  so  the  uneasiness 
resulting  from  it  must  be  greatest.  But  even  here  the  un- 
easiness also  varies  with  circumstances.  An  amiable  youth 
who  had  not  fallen  into  vice,  but  has  kept  entirely  within 
the  boundaries  of  virtue,  and  has  not  given  his  heart  to  God 
and  made  religion  his  supreme  business,  may  not,  and  can- 
not have  a  poignant  remorse  for  profligacies  he  has  never 
committed — but  even  he  is  uncomfortable  ;  he  knows  he  is 
not  a  Christian,  in  the  spiritual  sense  of  the  term.  His 
conscience  disturbs  him — letters  from  home  make  him  un- 
easy— awakening  sermons  alarm  him — in  the  company  of 
the  righteous  he  is  not  at  home — his  neglected  Bible,  given 
him  perhaps,  by  a  mother's  hand,  silently  reproaches  him. 
He  is  not  happy.     How  can  he  be  in  such  circumstances  ? 


84  .  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

He  resolves,  breaks  bis  resolution,  and  adds  to  bis  uneasi- 
ness tbe  guilt  of  broken  vows. 

In  otber  cases,  tbis  indecision  is  attended  witb  serious 
aberrations  from  tbe  patb  of  sanctity  and  regularity,  tbougb 
not  perbaps  of  morality.  In  sucb  cases,  tbe  mind  of  a 
youtb  wbose  beart  is  not  bardened,  is  often  in  a  state  of  still 
more  painful  disquietude  and  perturbation.  It  is  an  im- 
pressive trutb,  tbat  ease  of  mind,  quietness,  or  ratber  insen- 
sibility of  conscience,  belongs  often  ratber  to  tbe  decidedly 
wicked,  tban  to  tbe  undecidedly  good  :  for  tbe  former  may 
bave  bardened  and  stupified  bis  conscience  so  far,  till  it  lets 
bim  alone :  but  be  wbo  sins,  and  repents,  and  tben  sins 
again,  in  a  continued  circle,  is  sure  to  be  followed  in  bis 
miserable  rounds  witb  tbe  reproacbes  of  bis  memory  and  tbe 
lasbes  of  bis  conscience.  "  His  good  fits  are  but  tbe  short 
intervals  of  bis  madness,  wbicb  serve  to  let  tbe  madman  into 
a  knowledge  of  bis  own  disease  ;  whereas  it  would  in  some 
kinds  of  lunacy  be  much  more  for  bis  satisfaction  and  con- 
tent if  be  were  mad  always  "  0  tbe  misery  of  tbat  man 
■whose  life  is  spent  between  sinning  and  repenting — between 
the  impulses  of  conviction  and  the  drawings  of  inclination — 
between  the  difficulty  of  forming  resolutions,  and  the  guilty 
consciousness  of  breaking  them — in  short,  between  hopes 
ever  frustrated  by  disappointment,  and  fears  ever  realized 
by  experience.     Indecision  is  its  own  punishment. 

4.  This  indecision  is  in  the  highest  degree  sinful.  You 
can  see  tbis  clearly,  at  once,  and  impressively,  witb  regard 
to  the  Israelites  whom  the  projrhet  addressed  on  Mount 
Carmel.  What  a  crime  to  hesitate  for  a  moment  between 
Baal  and  Jehovah — to  be  undetermined  whether  to  servo 
that  dumb  idol,  or  tbe  livinsr  and  true  God.  You  wonder 
at  their  stupidity— you  are  incensed  at  their  impiety.     Ycj 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  83 

take  sides  instantly  with  the  prophet  against  the  people. 
His  zeal  is  not  too  burning — his  indignation  is  not  too 
severe — his  irony  is  not  too  cutting,  for  the  occasion.  How 
horror-struck  you  would  be  to  witness  such  senseless  impiety 
But  how  much  less  wicked  is  your  conduct,  though  of  course 
far  less  gross  and  revolting,  in  hesitating  whether  you  shall 
serve  Grod,  or  any  of  these  mental  idolatries — worldly  plea- 
sure, infidelity,  Mammon,  or  sensuality.  The  idols  of  the 
heathen  are,  as  we  have  said,  but  the  vices  of  the  human 
heart  personified,  embodied,  and  made  visible  to  the  senses. 
Human  lusts  and  passions  are  the  archetypes  of  them  all  ; 
the  one  being  the  abstract,  the  other  the  concrete  form  of 
idolatry  :  and  how  much  less  guilty  is  it  to  bend  the  knee  to 
an  idol,  than  to  bow  the  heart  to  a  vice  ?  Dwell  upon 
God's  divine  glory,  his  infinite  majesty,  his  ineifable  excel- 
lence, his  boundless,  inconceivable  beauty,  and  every  attri- 
bute of  his  glorious  nature.  "  To  him  all  angels  cry  aloud  : 
the  heavens  and  all  the  powers  therein.  To  him  chei'ubim 
and  seraphim  continually  do  cry.  Holy,  Holy,  Holy,  Lord 
God  Almighty.  The  glorious  company  of  the  apostles 
praise  him.  The  goodly  fellowship  of  the  prophets  praise 
him.  The  noble  army  of  martyrs  praise  him.  llie  holy 
church  throughout  the  world  doth  acknowledge  him," — and 
there  are  you  a  poor  frail  child  of  man,  halting  between  two 
opinions,  and  hesitating  whether  you  shall  serve  Him  or 
l^aal.  O  what  an  ineffable  insult  to  God.  Every  Christian 
on  earth  cries  out — shame.  Every  angel  in  glory  cries — 
shame.  Every  page  of  Scripture  cries — shame.  While 
God  himself,  indignantly  and  awfully,  completes  the  cry  of 
reprobation,  and  says,  "  Be  astonished,  0  heavens,  at  this, 
and  be  ye  horribly  afraid."  Consider,  then,  young  men,  the 
crime  against  God  you  arc  guilty  of  while  undecided.     He 


86  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

desires  and  demands  immediate  surrender  to  his  claims 
Yield  yourselves  unto  God,  and  at  once,  is  his  impera 
tive  injunction.  To  hesitate  whether  you  shall  serve  him, 
is  to  be  undetermined  whether  you  shall  be  the  friend  or  foe 
of  Grod — the  loyal  subject  of  his  government,  or  a  traitor 
against  his  throne  :  whether  you  shall  love  or  ^hate  him — 
reverence  or  despise  him — dishonor  or  glorify  him.  Every 
attribute  of  his  nature  makes  indecision  sinful — every  gift 
of  his  hand  aggravates  the  sin — every  injunction  of  his  word 
carries  on  the  aggravation. 

5.  Indecision  is  dangerous.  The  Israelites  found  it  so  ; 
after  hesitating  and  halting  between  two  opinions,  whatever 
slight  transient  impression  was  produced  by  the  scenes  of 
Mount  Carmel,  they  went  over  to  the  wrong  side,  bowed  the 
knee  to  Baal,  and  as  the  punishment  for  their  sin,  were 
carried  into  captivity,  and  rooted  out  as  a  nation  from  the 
earth.  Indecision  on  religion  is  a  state  of  mind  fraught 
with  most  imminent  peril ;  for  when  long  persisted  in,  it 
generally  ends  in  decision  upon  the  wrong  side.  It  gives 
time  for  the  wicked  and  deceitful  heart  to  collect  and  con- 
centrate all  its  forces  of  evil — emboldens  evil  companions  to 
ply  with  redoubled  energy  their  temptations — encourages 
Satan  to  multiply  his  machinations — and  to  complete  all, 
provokes  God  to  say,  '^  My  spirit  shall  not  always  strive 
with  man.  He  is  tied  to  his  idols,  let  him  alone.  Woe  be 
unto  him  when  I  depart  from  him."  Every  hour's  delay 
increases  the  peril,  and  exposes  you  to  the  danger  of  being 
loft  of  God.  But  there  is  a  danger  in  another  view  of  the 
case  :  you  are  entering  life  and  are  exposed  to  all  the  hazards 
enumerated  in  the  last  sermon  ;  and  is  indecision,  I  would 
ask,  a  state  of  mind  in  which  to  encounter  the  dread  array  } 
Is  it  in  this  halting  and  unsettled  condition  that  you  would 


INDECISION    IN    RELIPtIOUS    CHARACTER.  87 

meet  the  perils  of  your  path  ?  Why  it  is  like  a  soldier  going 
into  battle  without  having  settled  whibh  army  he  shall  side 
with,  and  which  sovereign  he  shall  fight  for.  Even  the 
decided  youth,  who  has  fully  made  up  his  mind  on  the  great 
subject — who  has  put  on  the  whole  armor  of  God,  and  is 
defended  at  all  points  with  right  principles,  good  resolutions, 
pious  habits,  and  well-formed  character — even  he  finds  it 
difficult  sometimes  to  stand  his  ground  against  the  mighty 
foes  of  truth,  piety,  and  virtue.  Even  he  who,  grasping  the 
sword  of  the  Spirit,  and  opposing  the  shield  of  faith  to  the 
darts  of  his  enemies,  exclaims  with  heroic  voice,  •'  I  am  for 
God  and  religion^^''  and  who  by  his  very  decision  and  firm- 
ness drives  back  the  assailants  of  his  steadfastness — even  he 
is  often  sorely  tried.  How  then  can  the  irresolute — the 
halting — the  vacillating  stand }  What  a  mark  is  he  for 
every  foe  !  What  a  butt  for  every  arrow  !  His  indecision 
invites  assault,  and  prepares  him  to  become  an  easy  prey  to 
whomsoever  will  aim  to  capture  him. 

But  this  is  not  all.  There  is  a  danger  of  dying  in  this 
undecided  state.  Life  is  uncertain.  Your  breath  is  in  your 
nostrils.  A  fever — an  inflammation — an  accident — may 
come  upon  you  any  day,  and  leave  no  time  for  reflection,  no 
opportunity  for  decision.  Death  often  springs  upon  his 
prey  like  a  tiger  from  the  jungle  upon  the  unwary  traveller. 
Millions  are  surprised  by  the  last  enemy  in  an  undecided 
state.  They  are  shot  through  the  heart,  with  the  question 
upon  their  lips,  "  Shall  I  serve  God  or  Baal  ?"  and  are  hur- 
ried into  the  presence  of  the  Eternal  Judge  himself  to  have 
it  answered  there.  Dreadful — most  dreadful !  To  meet 
God,  and  in  and  hy  his  presence  to  have  a  full  exposure  of 
the  guilt  and  folly  of  hesitating  between  his  service  and  that 
of  sin  !     What  a  question  to  come  from  the  God  of  Glory 


P9  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

to  thfi  poor,  naked,  trembling,  confounded  soul — "  Are  Goa 
and  Baal  so  nearly  alike,  that  you  should  have  halted  between 
two  opinions  which  you  would  serve  ?''  Mark  this — in  God's 
view  there  is  no  such  thing  in  reality  as  indecision — this 
word  is  used  not  to  express  things  as  they  are,  but  as  they 
appear.  In  fact  there  are  but  two  classes  of  men,  morally 
considered — the  converted  and  unconverted.  The  unde- 
cided belong  to  the  latter  class  no  less  than  the  infidel  and 
profligate — only  he  may  not  have  gone  to  such  an  extent  of 
actual  sin,  and  may  feel  more  the  unhappiness  of  his  situa- 
tion, and  the  desirableness  of  changing  it.  But  the  choice 
of  God's  service  has  not  been  made,  and  he  will  be  dealt 
with  as  belonojing  to  the  class  of  those  who  are  atijainst  him. 
Indecision  is  utterly  inconsistent  with  the  character  of  the 
godly,  the  terms  of  salvation,  and  the  hope  of  eternal  hap- 
piness. God  will  not  allow  of  neutrality,  and  considers 
every  man  who  is  not  decided  for  him  as  decided  against 
him,  and  will  treat  him  as  such.  No  matter  that  such  a  man 
feels  the  weight  of  sin's  fetters,  and  the  galling  burden  of 
its  yoke — no  matter  that  he  sometimes  feels  a  desire  to 
escape  from  its  bondage,  and  makes  some  feeble  and  occa- 
sional efforts  to  effect  his  emancipation — nothing  will  be  of 
avail  to  his  salvation,  but  an  entire  surrender  of  the  heart 
to  God,  and  a  complete  and  voluntary  yielding  up  himself 
to  his  service,  as  the  supreme  business  of  life.  There  is  no 
promise  in  all  God's  Word  to  the  unstable  and  wavering — 
no  hope  held  out  of  his  safety — no  salvo  provided  for  his 
conscience — no  middle  condition  in  which  he  can  take  his 
lot  between  the  decidedly  good  and  the  decidedly  bad. 

And  now  what  remains  but  that  I  call  upon  you  to 
renounce  your  indecision,  and  in  the  language  of  intelligent, 
deliberate  and  settled  purpose  to  say  with  Joshua  :  "  I^it 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  89 

others  do  what  they  will^  as  for  me  I  will  serve  the  Lord.'''* 
Reject  Baal,  and  surrender  to  God,  without  comjproviise  and 
without  delay.  You  cannot  have  two  masters  ;  you  cannot 
have  two  Gods.  You  cannot  harmonize  sin  and  righteous- 
ness, nor  reconcile  a  life  of  piety  and  a  life  of  worldliness 
You  must  be  one  thinoj  or  the  other.  Religion,  if  not  the 
first  and  greatest  thing  with  you,  is  nothing.  To  be  unde- 
cided in  such  a  business  is  the  most  irrational  state  of  mind 
in  the  whole  range  of  mental  conditions.  Look  in  upon 
your  own  immaterial,  immortal,  wonderful  spirit,  craving 
after  appropriate  and  adequate  sources  and  means  of  happi- 
ness, and  the  question  is  whether  you  shall  satisfy  or  mock 
its  insatiable  cravings.  Look  up  at  the  Eternal  God,  your 
Creator,  Preserver,  and  Benefactor,  and  the  everlasting 
Paradise  of  ineffable  delights  he  hath  prepared  for  them  that 
love  him,  and  the  question  is — whether  you  shall  submit  to 
his  claims,  enjoy  his  favor,  bear  his  image,  inhabit  his  high 
and  holy  place,  or  wither  away  for  ever  under  banishment 
from  his  presence,  and  the  effect  of  his  curse.  Look  down 
into  that  abyss  of  woe  which  divine  justice  hath  made  ready 
for  those  who  serve  not  Grod,  and  the  question  is — whethei 
you  shall  escape  that  awful  retribution  upon  sin  and  unbelief, 
or  endure  its  intolerable  burden  for  ever  and  ever.  Look  on 
to  the  ever-rolling  ages  of  eternity — that  interminable  exist- 
ence whose  perspective  no  eye  but  the  Omniscient  one  can 
reach — and  the  question  is  whether  that  endless  being  shall 
to  you  be  an  ocean  of  bliss  or  a  gulf  of  torment  and  despair. 
Undecided  on  such  questions !  If  such  conduct  is  known  in 
heaven,  how  must  angels  wonder  at  the  folly  of  mortals 
hesitating  whether  they  shall  inherit  their  bliss :  if  it  be 
known  in  the  abode  of  apostate  spirits,  how  must  those  once 
dignified,  but  now  degraded  beings,  marvel  with  uttermost 


90  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

astonishment,  that  sinful  men,  in  danger  of  their  misery^ 
should  hesitate  about  escaping  from  it.  Infidels,  scoffers,  and 
men  of  profane  minds,  may  scoff  at  these  appeals  to  the  awful 
realities  of  eternity  ;  just  as  many  a  felon,  who  has  expired 
at  the  drop,  once  made  himself  merry  and  seasoned  his  mirth 
with  vulgar  jokes  about  the  gallows.  Miserable  wretch,  he 
found  at  last  that  execution  was  a  dreadful  reality,  with 
which  the  most  hardened  ruffian  could  no  longer  trifle.  1 
believe,  and  therefore  speak,  and  by  arguments  no  less 
weighty  than  such  as  are  drawn  from  these  eternal  realities, 
I  conjure  you  to  remain  no  longer  undecided. 

But  clearly  understand  and  bear  in  recollection  what  it  is 
I  require.  It  is  not,  as  I  have  said,  merely  the  adoption  of 
any  particular  set  of  religious  opinions — nor  merely  joining 
any  particular  body  of  professing  Christians — but  Repentance 
towards  God — Faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ — Holy  Living 
— a  character  formed  and  a  life  regulated  by  the  Word  of 
God.  Every  known  sin  must  be  abandoned,  and  every  Chris- 
tian virtue  practised.  Evil  companions  must  be  forsaken  and 
your  associates  be  chosen  from  the  godly  and  virtuous. 

If  there  be  a  loftiness  and  nobleness  in  decision,  it  is  most 
lofty,  most  noble  in  religion.  You  need  not  go  for  instances 
of  this,  and  for  the  admiration  which  they  are  calculated  to 
afford,  to  such  examples  as  Foster  brings  before  you  in  his 
inimitable  essay — to  the  examples  selected  from  history,  to 
Marius  sitting  amidst  the  ruins  of  Carthage — to  Pizarro — to 
Richard  Til. — .to  Cromwell :  nor  even  to  those  drawn  from 
the  records  of  Scripture — to  Daniel — and  to  Shadrach, 
Meshach,  and  Abednego  :  nor  to  those  supplied  by  Chris- 
tian martyrology — to  John  Huss  and  Jerome  of  Prague  ;  nor 
to  those  borrowed  from  the  annals  of  philanthrophy — to 
Howard,  to  Wilberforce,  and  Mrs.  Fry — these  are  all  grand 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  91 

uupressive,  beautiful,  but  they  are  not  the  only  ones  that 
may  be  cited  ;  nor,  with  whatever  lurid  or  milder  radiance 
they  may  be  surrounded  and  emblazoned,  are  they  those 
which  are  the  most  appropriate  for  you  to  contemplate,  or 
which  perhaps  will  have  with  you  the  greatest  weight.  Look 
at  that  manly,  pious  young  man,  who  has  left  the  shelter  and 
protecting  wing  of  his  father's  house  and  home,  and  is  now 
pla-ced  in  a  modern  establishment,  and  surrounded  by  fifty  or 
a  hundred  fellow-shopmen,  among  whom  he  finds  not  one  to 
countenance  him  in  the  maintenance  of  his  religious  profes- 
sion, and  the  greater  part  of  whom  select  him,  on  account  of 
his  religion,  as  the  object  of  their  pity,  their  scorn,  their 
hatred,  or  their  contempt.  Among  them  are  infidels  who 
ply  him  with  flippant  and  specious  cavils  against  the  Bible— 
pleasure-takers  who  use  every  efibrt  to  engage  him  in  their 
Sunday  parties  and  their  polluting  amusements — men  of  light 
morality  who  assail  his  integrity — a  few  lovers  of  science  and 
general  knowledge,  who  endeavor  to  allure  him  from  reli- 
gion to  philosophy.  How  fearful  is  his  situation — and  how 
perilous  !  Usually  it  would  be  better  to  leave  it,  for  how  few 
can  hold  fast  their  integrity  in  such  a  situation.  But  there 
he — this  decided,  this  inflexible,  this  noble-minded  youth 
— stands  firm,  unyielding,  decided.  He  is  neither  ashamed 
nor  afraid  of  his  principles — he  neither  denies  nor  conceals 
them.  Before  that  laughing  crowd  he  bends  his  knees  and 
prays — in  presence  of  that  jeering  set,  he  open  his  Bible 
and  reads — from  that  pleasure-taking  company  he  breaks  off", 
amidst  their  scoffs,  to  go  to  the  house  of  God.  He  bears  the 
peltings  of  their  pitiless  storm  of  ridicule  or  rage,  unrujffled  in 
temper,  unmoved  in  principle,  and  only  casts  upon  his  perse- 
cutors a  look  of  gentle  pity,  or  utters  a  mild  word  of  expos- 
tulation, or   silently  presents  the   prayer,   "  Father,  forgive 


92  THE  YOUNG  MAN  S  FRIEND. 

them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do."  He  keeps,  by  hia 
firmness,  the  whole  pack  at  bay.  Some  are  half  subdued  by 
his  wonderful  firmness.  A  secret  admiration  is  bestowed  upon 
him  by  others,  while  even  they  who  hate  him  most,  often  are 
astonished  most  at  his  inflexible  resolution,  and  it  may  be 
that  one  and  another,  at  length,  take  hold  of  the  skirt  of  his 
garment  and  say  to  him,  "  We  must  go  with  you,  for  we  see 
God  is  with  you."  Talk  of  decision  of  character — there  it 
is  in  all  its  force,  beauty,  and  utility.  I  know  of  no  case  in 
God's  world  in  which  it  is  exemplified  with  more  power  than 
in  that.  It  is  not  martyrdom  literally,  but  it  is  so  in  spirit  : 
and  such  a  youth  ranks  with  confessors,  who  bear  witness 
for  Christ  amidst  "  cruel  mockings."  In  persecuting  times 
that  noble  youth  would  have  died  for  religion  upon  the 
scafibld  or  at  the  stake.  It  is  a  rich  manifestation  of 
Divine  Grace  by  which  alone  it  is  maintained.  It  is  a  sight 
on  which  angels  might  look  down  with  delight,  and  in  respect 
to  which  God  is  ever  saying,  "  Well  done,  good  and  faith- 
ful servant." 

Young  men,  behold  your  pattern.  This  is  the  decision 
for  which  I  call  upon  you  :  and  call  upon  you  to  copy  it 
without  procrastination.  You  no  more  dare  to  delay  than  to 
deny.  Every  moment's  hesitation  is  a  moment  of  rebellion. 
Youiave  no  more  right  to  halt  than  you  have  to  refuse. 
God's  claim  is  upon  you  now,  and  your  next  business  after 
hearing  this  sermon,  is  to  rise  and  yield  yourselves  to  God. 
When  Pyrrhus  attempted  to  procrastinate,  the  Roman  ambas- 
sador with  whom  he  was  then  treating,  drew  a  circle  round 
■him  on  the  earth  with  his  cane,  and  in  the  name  of  the  Se- 
nate, demanded  an  answer  before  he  stepped  across  the  line. 
I  do  the  same  :  the  walls  of  this  building  in  which  you  aro 
now  assembled,  shall  constitute  the  circle  in  which  you  are 


INDECISION    IN    RELIGIOUS    CHARACTER.  93 

placed,  and  before  you  cross  that  threshold,  I  demand  in  the 
name  of  God  an  answer  whether  you  will  serve  Him  or  Baal. 

Put  me  not  off  with  the  excuse  that  it  is  an  important  mat- 
ter and  requires  deliberation.  It  is  important,  most  moment- 
ous, and  on  that  account  requires  instant  decision  ;  and  as  to 
deliberation — how  much  do  you  require  ?  A  year  ?  A  month  ? 
A  week  ?  What !  to  determine  whether  you  shall  serve  God 
or  Baal?  You  have  hesitated  too  long,  and  another  mo- 
ment's deliberation  is  too  much. 

Excuse  not  procrastination  by  the  allegation  that  it  is 
God's  work  to  change  the  heart.  It  is,  but  it  is  yours  also. 
The  Spirit  of  God  is  striving  with  you  while  I  speak  and  you 
reflect.  All  the  influences  necessary  for  salvation  are  every 
moment  submitted  to  the  appropriation  of  your  faith. 

Turn  me  not  away  with  the  purpose  and  the  promise  of 
coming  to  decision  at  some  future  time.  Future  time ! 
Alas,  there  may  be  no  future  for  you.  Upon  the  present 
hour  may  be  suspended  your  eternal  destiny.  This  night 
may  be  the  determining  point,  for  to-morrow  you  may  die, 
or  be  given  up  by  God  to  hardness  of  heart.  I  press  you, 
therefore,  for  immediate  decision. 

Oh  !  what  an  hour  is  now  closing  upon  you,  and  what  a 
service  !  How  solemn  and  how  momentous  !  In  what  trans- 
actions— amidst  what  spectators — with  what  results  and 
consequences  have  you  been  engaged  this  evening.  Three 
worlds — heaven,  earth,  and  hell — are  at  this  moment  feeling 
an  interest  in  you,  as  if  your  eternal  destiny  hung  upon  the 
appeal  now  made  to  you.  Amidst  the  prayers  of  anxious 
parents — amidst  the  labors  of  an  earnest  minister — amidst 
the  sympathies  of  this  vast  congregation — and  rising  still 
higher,  amidst  the  eager  hopes  of  angels,  waiting  to  be 
ministers  to  your  salvation,  and  the  jealous  fears  and  dread 


94  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

of  demons  no  less  eager  for  your  destruction  ;  and  above  all 
under  the  watchful  notice  of  the  glorious  Redeemer  waiting 
to  put  you  among  his  disciples,  you  have  been  urged  to  de- 
cide for  God  and  religion,  against  all  and  aught  that  can  be 
put  in  opposition — what  shall  be  your  decision  ?  It  is  recorded 
of  an  American  preacher  that  he  was  once  urging  similar 
claims  on  his  audience,  and  demanding  who  would  be  decided  ? 
He  paused ;  a  solemn  silence  ensued,  which  was  at  length 
broken  by  an  individual  who  had  been  inclined  to  infidelity, 
rising,  and  with  strong  emotion,  simply  aa,ymgj  I  will.  The 
point  was  that  hour  decided.  From  that  moment  he  became 
a  determined,  consistent  Christian.  Young  men,  who  will 
imitate  this  example,  and  say  in  the  hearing  of  Him  to  whom 
the  audible  voice  is  unnecessary,  I  will  1  That  mono- 
syllable, uttered  in  sincerity,  will  go  up  to  heaven  and  engage 
it  in  a  chorus  of  praise  over  your  decision — will  go  down  to 
the  bottomless  pit  and  exasperate  the  hosts  of  darkness  with 
the  shame  and  the  rage  of  a  new  defeat, — and  go  throuo-h 
eternity  with  you  as  the  source  of  infinite  delight. — Let  thi? 
then  be  youi-  resolution,  "I  will." 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  POSSESSING  A  DEFECTIVE 
AMIABILITY. 


"  Then  Jesus  beholding  hitn  loved  hinti." — Mark  x.  21, 

The  narrative  of  which  this  forms  a  part,  is  thus  gfycn. 
*^  And  when  he  was  gone  forth  into  the  way,  there  came  om 
■runnings  and  kneeled  to  him^  and  asked  him^  Good  Mastc-*'^ 
what  shall  I  do  that  I  may  inherit  eternal  life  ?  And  Jesuit 
said  unto  him^  Why  callest  thou  me  good  ?  There  is  non^ 
good  but  one,  that  is  God.  Thou  knowest  the  commandments, 
Do  not  commit  adultery,  Do  not  kill,  Do  not  steal,  Do  not 
hear  false  witness.  Defraud  not,  Honor  thy  father  and  mother. 
And  he  answered  and  said  unto  him^  Blaster,  all  these  have  1 
observed  from  my  youth.  Then  Jesus  beholding  him  loved 
him,  and  said  unto  him.  One  thing  thou  lackest ;  go  thy  way, 
sell  whatsoever  thou  hast,  and  give  to  the  poor,  and  thou  shall 
have  treasure  in  heaven ;  and  come,  take  up  the  cross  and 
follow  me.  And  he  was  sad  at  that  saying,  and  went  away 
grieved  ;  for  he  had  great  possessions. "^"^ 

The  character  of  Christ  as  delineated  by  the  pen  of  the 
evangelists,  is  one  of  the  brightest  glories  of  revelation,  and 
one  of  the  manj  internal  evidences  of  its  divine  origin. 
Even  the  infidel  Rousseau  confessed,  that  if  the  Gospel  were 
a  fable,  he  that  invented  the  character  of  the  Saviour,  must 
5 


96 

himself  be  greater  than  the  hero  of  his  tale.  What  an  union, 
without  confusion,  of  the  human  and  the  divine — what  an 
exhibition  of  the  awful  and  the  amiable,  of  the  stern  and  the 
tender :  at  one  time  denouncing  with  terrific  vengeance  the 
crimes  of  the  Jews:  at  another,  weeping  over  the  approach- 
ing fulfilment  of  his  own  predictions :  now  casting  ouu 
demons  from  the  possessed,  then,  taking  little  children  in  his 
arms  ;  and  just  after,  looking  with  deep  and  tender  interest 
on  a  youth  of  attractive  but  defective  amiableness.  Young 
men,  study  this  sublime,  beautiful  and  superhuman  character, 
and  say  if  both  this,  and  the  book  which  contains  it,  must 
not  be  of  God.  Could  such  a  pattern  of  matchless  truth, 
purity,  and  benevolence,  be  the  ofispring  of  delusion,  false- 
hood, and  depravity,  which  it  must  have  been,  if  it  be  the 
production  of  imposture .''  To  what  page  of  uninspired 
history  can  infidelity  direct  you  for  anything  which  even 
remotely  resembles  it  in  greatness,  goodness,  and  unearth 
liness } 

We  now  advert  to  a  single  incident  in  the  life  of  Christ — 
one  of  great  instructiveness  and  interest  to  you.  By  con- 
sulting the  chapter  from  whence  the  text  is  taken,  you  will 
find  that  a  youth  of  rank,  fortune,  and  office,  came  to  Jesus 
with  deep  solicitude  to  know  what  he  must  do  to  obtain 
jternal  life.  The  whole  narrative  shows  that  he  was  a  moral 
and  amiable  young  man,  and  also  concerned  about  religion, 
but  depending  upon  the  merits  of  his  own  good  doings  for 
acceptance  with  God ;  and  at  the  same  time  loving  his 
wealth  far  more  than  was  consistent  with  his  high  preten- 
sions of  love  to  his  neighbor,  and  concern  about  eternity. 
Believing  that  Christ  was  a  teacher  sent  from  God,  he  wished 
to  know  from  him  whether  there  was  anything  more  which 
he  could  do  to  strengthen  the  basis  of  hi«  hopes,  and  to  con- 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITF.  9» 

firm  his  assurance  of  salvation.  It  is  important  to  remark ^ 
and  to  recollect,  that  in  replying  to  him  our  Lord  deals  with 
him  on  his  own  grounds.  Christ  neither  disclaimed,  in  what 
he  said,  his  own  divinity,  nor  preached  to  him  the  doctrine 
of  justification  by  works  ;  but  merely  asked  him  how  with 
his  views  of  the  person  he  then  spoke  to,  he  could  address 
him,  and  flatter  him  with  a  title  which  in  its  full  meaning 
belonged  only  to  God.  So  also  in  telling  him  that  if  he  kept 
the  commandments  with  absolute  and  unsinning  perfection 
from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  life,  he  would  on  the  ground 
of  his  own  obedience  be  justified — his  divine  teacher  did  not 
mean  to  say  that  such  a  thing  as  unsinning  obedience  would 
be  found  in  him  or  any  one  else ;  but  that  if  it  really  could 
be  found,  it  would  justify  the  man  who  had  it.  Our  Lord 
soon  showed  to  him,  by  the  test  he  applied  to  his  judgment 
and  conscience,  that  he  was  not  so  holy  as  he  thought  he 
was ;  for  upon  being  commanded  to  go  and  sell  his  posses- 
sions and  give  to  his  neighbors,  which  as  he  regarded  Christ 
as  a  divine  teacher  sent  from  God,  he  ought  to  have  done — 
he  ^^  went  away  sorrowful,  for  he  had  great  possessions.''^ 
Thus  proving  that  with  all  his  professions  of  having  kept  the 
law,  he  loved  his  money  more  than  he  loved  God,  or  his 
neighbor,  and  that  the  world  was  even  then  his  idol.  Now 
we  are  not  to  suppose  from  this  injunction  of  our  Lord,  that 
no  one  can  bo  a  Christian  who  does  not  dispose  of  the  whole 
of  his  property  in  alms-deeds.  Christ  laid  down  a  general 
principle,  that  supreme  love  of  the  world  and  earnestness 
after  salvation  are  incompatible  with  each  other ;  and  gave 
it  such  a  special  application  and  extent  in  this  case  as  its 
peculiarity  required. 

Still,  we  are  told  that,   "  when  Jesus  looked  upon  him  he 
loved  him.''''     Love  is  a  word  of  wide  and   comprehensive 


98  THE  YOUNG  MAN's  FRIEND. 

meaning ;  in  some  places  signifying  approval  of,  and  com- 
placency in,  character  ;  in  others,  meaning  nothing  more 
than  a  general  interest  and  good  will.  There  are  sometimes 
appearances  in  the  character  and  conduct  of  those  with 
whom  we  have  to  do,  that  deeply  interest  us ;  yet  all  the 
while,  there  is  much  that  we  must  condemn.  This  was  the 
case  before  us.  The  humanity  of  Christ  partook  of  the 
sinless  instincts  and  properties  of  our  own.  His  bosom  was 
susceptible  of  the  emotions  of  friendship,  and  of  all  that  is 
honorable  and  graceful  in  our  nature.  On  this  occasion 
there  was  something  in  the  circumstances,  character,  and 
manners  of  this  young  man,  which  attacted  the  heart  of 
Jesus  to  him — his  youthful  appearance  was  prepossessing — 
his  manners  pleasing — his  address  courteous — his  language 
respectful — his  disposition  so  deferential  and  docile  that 
Jesus  beholding  him  loved  him.  He  noticed,  recognized,  and 
approved  all  the  good  qualities  he  possessed — he  was  inter- 
ested  in  his  youthful  age,  combined  as  it  was  with  some 
concern  for  religion  ;  he  cherished  benevolent  wishes  for  his 
welfare,  and  a  friendly  willingness  to  do  him  good  This  was 
all ;  his  regard  for  what  is  holy  and  just  and  good,  prevented 
him  from  going  farther  His  inward  emotions  all  the  while 
amounted  to  lamentation,  that  so  much  seeming  excellence 
should  be  tainted  with  that  which  rendered  it  of  no  worth 
in  the  sight  of  God,  and  of  no  avail  to  the  young  man's 
salvation. 

You  see,  my  young  friends,  what  was  the  defect  in  this 
case — he  possessed  not  the  faith  which  overcomes  the  world. 
He  wished  to  unite  two  things  utterly  irreconcilable — the 
love  of  God  and  the  love  of  the  world.  He  wanted  to  serve 
two  masters,  God  and  Mammon.  It  was  not  vice  and  profli 
gacy  that  kept  him  from  true  religion  here,  and  from  heaven 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  99 

hereafter;  it  was  the  more  decent  and  reputable  sin  of 
supreme  attachment  to  things  seen  and  temporal.  He  could 
give  up  many  sins,  but  he  could  not  give  up  his  besetting  sin 
— supreme  regard  to  wealth.  He  could  do  many  things,  but 
he  could  not  give  up  all  to  follow  Christ.  He  could  give  up 
vice,  but  he  could  not  deny  himself  and  take  up  his  cross. 
He  had  many  good  things,  but  he  lacked  that  one  thing 
which  alone  could  give  holiness  to  them  all.  If  vice  had  slain 
its  thousands,  worldliness  has  slain  its  tens  of  thousands. 
Of  all  the  false  gods  mentioned  in  the  last  sermon,  the 
shrine  of  Mammon  is  most  resorted  to  ;  it  is  from  that  tem- 
ple the  broadest  and  most  beaten  path  to  perdition  will  be 
found.  In  the  crowd  which  press  along  that  path,  are  to  be 
found  not  only  the  knaves,  the  cheats,  and  men  of  dishonor- 
able character  of  every  kind,  but  the  men  who  follow  what- 
soever things  are  just,  and  honest,  and  true,  and  even  lovely, 
and  of  good  report ;  who  yet  withal  rise  to  no  higher  grade  of 
moral  excellence,  and  no  more  exalted  character,  than  the 
more  just  and  honorable  worshippers  of  this  sordid  deity. 
Yes — even  Mammon  can  boast  of  devotees,  who  though  they 
do  not  act  from  a  principle  of  religion,  yet  scorn  all  that  is 
mean,  dishonorable,  and  unjust.  Consider  the  words  of  an 
inspired  apostle — "  If  any  man  love  the  world,  the  love  of 
the  Father  is  not  in  him  :"  and  begin  life  remembering  that 
in  the  broad  road  which  leadeth  to  destruction,  there  is  a 
path  for  the  lovers  of  the  world,  as  well  as  for  the  lovers 
of  vice. 

Before  I  go  on  to  take  up  and  consider  the  subject  of 
this  discourse,  there  are  a  few  remarks  which  may  with 
propriety  be  made  upon  the  case  of  this  young  man  viewed 
in  connection  with  our  Lord's  feelings  towards  him. 

How  much  concern  may  in  some  cases  be  felt  about  reli- 


100  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

gion,  without  the  subject  of  that  solicitude  being  truly  reli- 
gious. Here  was  some  anxiety,  earnestness,  and  inquiry — ■ 
yet  no  true,  intelligent,  and  scriptural  religion.  A  character 
which  is  by  no  means  uncommon.  We  sometimes  see  a  tree 
in  spring  so  covered  as  to  be  one  mass  of  flowers,  beautiful 
to  the  eye,  and  fragrant  to  the  smell,  and  hopeful  to  the 
owner  ;  and  yet  dropping  all  this  upon  the  ground,  and  stand- 
ing in  autumn  a  collection  of  branches  and  leaves  without  a 
single  fruit.  Alas,  alas,  how  many  persons  resemble  such 
young  trees,  and  excite  the  hopes  of  parents,  ministers,  and 
others,  by  incipient  appearances  of  religion,  only  to  disap- 
point them.  Do  not,  my  young  friends,  add  to  the  number 
of  these  promising,  but  deceptive  appearances,  and  bitter 
disappointments. 

How  much  good  and  evil  may  be  mixed  up  in  the  same 
character  ;  requiring  the  most  careful  discrimination  and 
the  most  impartial  exercise  of  judgment.  Here  were  lovely 
traits  mixed,  corrupted,  and  spoiled  by  others  of  an  opposite 
quality.  In  heaven  and  hell  there  are  no  mixed  characters 
— the  former  being  inhabited  by  the  purely  good,  and  the 
latter  by  the  entirely  bad.  No  speck  is  on  the  bright  and 
burnished  surface  of  the  former  ;  not  a  spot  of  brightness 
relieves  the  black  ground  of  the  latter.  On  earth,  however, 
we  frequently  meet  with  a  blending  of  apparently  good  and 
really  bad  qualities.  The  fall  of  man,  though  it  struck  out 
from  the  heart  all  that  is  holy  towards  God,  did  not  extin- 
guish all  that  is  amiable  towards  man.  Lapsed  humanity  is 
not,  indeed,  as  angelical  as  ignorant  or  false  flatterers 
would  represent  ;  neither  is  it  always  as  unlovely,  diaboli- 
cal, or  brutal  as  its  injudicious  detractors  would  assert.  If 
no  plant  of  paradise  grows  in  man's  heart  till  planted  there 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  101 

by  grace,  there  are  wild  flowers  of  some  beauty  and  pleas" 
ant  odor  which  relieve  the  dreariness  of  the  wilderness — 

"  And  waste  their  fragrance  on  the  desert  air." 

Where  this  mixture  exists,  let  us  recognize  it,  and  neither 
allow  the  good  to  reconcile  us  to  the  evil,  nor  the  evil  to 
prejudice  us  against  the  good.  It  is  very  disingenuous  to 
talk  scandal  in  superlatives,  as  though  every  man  who  is  a 
sinner  was  a  perfect  villain. 

The  possession  of  some  good  qualities  is  no  compensation 
for  the  want  of  others  ;  nor  any  excuse  whatever  for  the 
possession  of  bad  ones..  Nothing  is  more  common  than  for 
men  to  try  to  set  up  a  sort  of  compromise  between  religion 
and  morality.  Some  imagine  that  attention  to  the  duties  of 
the  latter  will  release  them  from  obligations  to  the  former, 
and  the  performance  of  their  duty  to  man,  serve  instead  of 
what  they  owe  to  God ;  while  others  seem  to  think  the  per- 
formance of  religious  duties  will  exonerate  them  from  their 
obligations  to  truth,  justice,  and  purity.  So  also  in  these 
separate  departments,  attention  to  one  branch  of  duty, 
especially  if  rather  strict  and  rigid,  is  thought  to  be  a  com- 
pensation and  atonement  for  the  omission  or  violation  of 
others.  It  will  not  do.  It  is  a  deceptive  and  destructive 
attempt.  The  Word  of  God  repudiates  this  wicked  com- 
promise, and  requires  an  absolute  perfection,  both  of  parts 
and  of  degrees,  both  in  reference  to  religion  and  morals.  It 
is  one  of  the  chief  glories  of  the  Bible,  that  it  prescribes, 
requires,  and  aids  the  acquisition  of  a  complete  character  ;  a 
character  in  which  piety  towards  God  and  morality  towards 
man  ;  the  elements  of  heavenly  and  earthly  excellence  ;  all 
that  is  true,  and  beautiful,  and  good  shall  harmoniously 
combine.     Our  Lord  would  not   accept   this  young  man'a 


102 

morality  in  excuse  for  his  want  of  true  piety ;  nor  his  con- 
cern about  the  future  world  as  an  apology  for  his  love  to  tha 
present  one. 

We  should  not  fail  to  own  and  even  love  general  excellence 
wherever  we  find  it,  though  it  may  not  be  in  association 
with  sanctifying  grace.  It  is  good  in  itself  and  useful  to 
others,  though  it  will  not  lead  on  its  possessor  to  heaven. 
An  amiable  youth,  who  is  his  parent's  comfort,  so  far  as 
general  excellence  is  concerned,  even  though  he  may  not  be 
a  partaker  of  true  conversion  to  God,  is  not  to  be  placed  upon 
a  level  with  a  profligate  prodigal.  We  must  not  say  of  any 
man,  I  hate  him  utterly  and  abhor  him  in  all  respects, 
because  he  has  not  true  holiness.  Thus  did  not  Christ  act 
towards  this  young  ruler.  He  knew  he  was  not  holy,  yet, 
behold  how  he  loved  him. 

Whatever  general  excellence  we  may  see  in  those  with 
whom  we  have  to  do,  and  however  we  may  admire  and 
commend  it,  we  should  still  point  out  their  defects,  and 
endeavor  to  lead  them  on  to  seek  the  supply  of  them. 
This  especially  applies  to  a  want  of  religion  associated  with 
the  possession  of  many  excellencies.  We  are  all  too  apt  to 
be  thrown  off  our  guard  here,  and  to  allow  ourselves  to 
think  there  must  be  piety  where  there  is  so  much  besides 
that  is  lovely  :  or  if  not,  that  it  could  add  but  little  to  such 
excellence.  It  is  to  be  recollected,  however,  that  as  long  as 
these  general  good  qualities  are  associated  with  an  unrenewed 
and  unsanctified  nature,  they  are  utterly  destitute  of  that 
only  principle  which  can  make  them  truly  virtuous,  which 
alone  can  render  them  lovely  in  the  sight  of  God,  and  which 
alone  can  connect  them  with  salvation.  No  false  tenderness 
to  the  feelings  of  such  persons,  no  disposition  to  flatter 
them,  no  regard  to  the  opinions  of  others,  should  lead  us  to 


A    DEFECTIVE    AxMIABILITY.  103 

conceal  from  them  what  we  know  they  are  destitute  of,  and 
which  it  is  necessary  they  should  possess  in  order  to  their 
salvation.  How  faithfully  did  our  Lord  say — "  One  thing 
thou  lacked  yet.'''' 

Our  judgments  in  matters  of  morality  and  religion  should 
be  formed  by,  and  follow,  that  of  God.  The  Bible  is  the 
standard,  and  God  the  judge  of  true  excellence.  The  con- 
ventional opinions  of  men  on  these  subjects  are  often  very 
different  from  those  of  God.  He  looks  at  the  heart,  while 
man  oftentimes  looks  no  further  than  the  outward  bearing. 
He  looks  at  the  state  of  the  heart  towards  himself:  man  too 
generally  looks  no  further  than  the  conduct  towards  society. 
In  reference  to  many  a  lovely  specimen  of  general  excellence, 
man  would  ask  the  question — "  What  can  be  wanting  here  V 
God  replies — "  Religion."  Man  asks  further — ''  What  could 
religion  add  to  this  ?"  God  answers — "  The  first  of  all 
duties  and  excellencies,  love  to  me."  Man  still  q&estions — 
"  Would  any  one  consign  this  to  destruction  .^"  God  re- 
plies— "  Is  this  what  I  demand  for  salvation  ;  or  is  it  that 
which  constitutes  a  meetness  for  heaven  .?" 

It  is  important  to  remark  the  interest  our  divine  Lord 
takes  in  the  welfare  of  the  youngs  and  especially  of  young 
MEN.  There  is  nothing  like  this  said  of  any  other  person 
in  all  the  Word  of  God.  No  other  individual  seems  in  the 
same  way  to  have  called  forth  the  sensibilities  of  our  Lord. 
That  it  was  an  exercise  of  his  regard  towards  a  particular 
individual,  is  admitted  ;  but  it  may  well  be  imagined  it  was 
intended  to  be  a  type  of  his  interest  in  a  class,  and  that  class 
is  yours,  young  men.  Jesus  looks  from  his  throne  of  glory 
upon  you — addresses  himself  to  you — is  waiting  for  you — - 
will  receive  you^  and  that  with  special  complacency.     Go 

6* 


104  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND 

back  to  the  book  of  Proverbs,  and  see  how  conspicuous  a 
place  you  sustain  in  the  attention  of  the  writer. 

But  I  go  on  now  to  discuss  more  particularly  the  subject 
of  this  evening's  discourse — a  defective  amiableness. 
By  amiableness  we  mean  what  in  common  discourse  we  call 
good  nature — a  kindliness  of  disposition — a  willingness  to 
oblige,  sometimes  united  with  a  gentleness  of  manner,  and  a 
lively  frankness  of  conduct :  that,  in  fact,  which  constitutes 
general  loveliness  of  character.  Now  this,  so  beautiful  in 
itself,  may  be,  and  often  is,  very  defective  in  reference  to 
other  important  and  necessary  things. 

First. — There  are  several  general  views  that  may  be 
taken  of  this  defectiveness,  which  I  will  lay  before  you,  be- 
fore I  come  to  that  special  case  which  is  brought  under  re- 
view in  the  text. 

There  is  an  amiableness,  so  called^  which  is  nothing  better 
than  the  Confounding  of  a  good  temper  with  an  easy  om 
These  two  are  very  different :  the  former,  as  distinguished 
from  the  latter,  means  a  kindliness  of  nature — a  disposition 
to  accommodate  and  oblige,  which  is  under  the  regulation  of 
a  sound  judgment ;  which  is  always  watchful  against  the 
undue  influence  of  others,  and  can  resolutely  refuse  to  com- 
ply with  a  request  for  any  thing  improper  in  itself,  however 
importunately  solicited.  Good  temper  may,  and  often  does, 
most  firmly  and  even  sternly  say,  "No."  But  an  easy 
temper  rarely  can  or  does.  It  has  not  the  power  to  resist 
entreaty,  but  allows  itself  to  be  persuaded  by  almost  every- 
body, and  to  almost  every  thing.  Such  a  temper  resembles 
an  osier,  which  any  one  that  pleases  can  bend  in  any  direc- 
tion, and  which  in  fact  bends  of  itself  before  the  gentlest 
breexe.     A  good  temper  has  eyes  to  see  and  examine,  as 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  105 

well  as  ears  to  hear — an  easy  temper  is  quick  of  hearing, 
but  stone  blind :  a  good  temper  is  self-moved  and  self- 
governed — an  easy  temper  is  a  mere  automaton,  which  others 
move  and  guide  without  any  resistance  of  its  own  :  a  good 
temper  is  a  kind  heart  in  association  with  a  clear  head — an 
easy  temper  is  all  heart  but  no  head.  Such  an  easy  temper  is  a 
very  dangerous  one,  and  has  led  multitudes  to  their  ruin. 
Never  surrender  yourselves  thus,  even  to  your  friends  ;  for 
if  you  do,  you  may  soon  find  yourselves  in  the  hands  of  your 
enemies.  He  is  not  your  friend  who  desires  to  be  your 
master.  Be  a  slave  to  no  man.  Never  give  away  your 
judgment ;  and  instantly  dismiss  from  your  society  the  in- 
dividual whom  you  suspect  of  imposing  upon  good  nature, 
and  who  takes  you  for  the  poor  dupe  that  has  neither  opinion 
nor  will  of  his  own,  but  can  be  led  to  do  anything  by  en- 
treaty and  coaxing.  Acquire  strength  as  well  as  beauty  of 
character.  Learn  to  say,  "  No,"  as  well  as  "  Yes,"  and 
how-to  abide  by  it. 

Sometimes  we  see  much  amiableness  associated  with  much 
ignorance.  There  is  much  that  is  really  very  kind  and 
obliging ;  much  to  conciliate  aflfection,  but  very  little  to 
command  respect.  Hence  the  excellence  that  is  in  the 
character  does  not  do  the  good  it  might,  for  want  of  talent 
or  acquirement  to  give  it  weight.  It  is  of  such  a  person  said 
with  a  sneer,  "  Very  good,  but  very  weak."  "VVe  say,  there- 
fore, do  not  be  an  amiable  fool — an  obliging  ignoramus — a 
mere  kind  simpleton  ;  but  cultivate  your  intellect,  and  let 
knowledge  recommend  virtue.  In  this  respect,  as  well  as  in 
others,  do  not  let  "  your  good  be  evil  spoken  of." 

It  has  not  unfrequently  occurred  that  amiableness  has 
unhappily  been  associated  with  infidelity  and  immorality 
Perhaps  more  fre(|uently  with  the  latter  than  with  the  former 


106  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

Speculative  infidelity  has  a  tendency  to  make  men  cold,  hard, 
gloomy  ;  it  freezes  the  genial  current  of  the  soul ;  withers  and 
starves  benevolence  ;  and  petrifies  the  heart  into  selfishness. 
But  dissipation  and  vice  are  often  frank  and  vivacious ;  full 
of  mirth  and  merriment.  Modern  refinement  in  demorali- 
zation has  selected  a  term  of  some  attraction  to  describe  a 
profligate,  and  he  is  said  to  be  '"''  gay^  Colonel  Gardiner 
before  his  conversion  was  called  "  The  Happy  Rake."  Of 
all  the  characters  on  earth  that  are  dangerous  to  you,  and 
should  be  shunned  hy  you,  the  amiable  profligate  is  the  one 
most  to  be  dreaded.  The  man  of  kind  disposition,  insinuating 
address,  polished  manners,  sparkling  wit,  and  broad  humor, 
but  of  bad  principles,  or  bad  conduct,  is  the  most  seductive 
agent  of  the  Wicked  One  for  the  ruin  of  youth.  It  is  the 
fascination  of  the  eye  of  the  basilisk  ;  it  is  the  glossy  and 
beautifully  variegated  skin  of  the  serpent,  concealing  the  fang 
and  the  venom  ;  it  is  the  golden  chalice  that  contains  the 
poisonous  draught ;  or  to  reach  the  climax,  it  is  Satan  trans- 
formed, if  not  into  an  angel  of  light,  into  a  personification  of 
polished  and  attractive  vice.     Of  such  men  beware. 

Secondly.  I  now  more  particularly  speak  of  amiable- 
ness  without  religion. 

I  remark,  that  young  men  may^  and  often  do  possess  many 
things  that  are  lovely  and  interesting ^  while  at  the  same,  time 
they  are  destitute  of  true  piety.  There  may  be  a  delicate 
sensibility^  the  heart  may  be  susceptible,  the  imagination 
glowing,  and  the  feelings  alive  to  whatever  is  tender, 
pathetic,  or  heroic — and  yet  all  the  while  there  may  be  no 
sense  of  sin,  no  gratitude  to  Christ,  no  love  of  God,  no 
delight  in  holiness,  no  aspirations  after  heaven.  There  may 
be  natural  genius  ;  acquired  knowledge  ;  large  information  ; 
their  possessor  may  be  able  to  argue  logically,  to  discourso 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  107 

with  ready  conversational  power,  to  the  delight  of  friends 
and  the  admiration  of  strangers — and  yet  one  thing  may  be 
lacking,  for  there  may  be  no  knowledge  of  God  or  of  eternal 
life :  and  over  that  mind  which  is  so  bright  and  so  brilliant, 
as  regards  the  present  world,  may  brood  the  darkness  which 
involves  it  in  the  shadow  of  death.  You  will  sometimes  see 
a  young  man  so  eager  in  the  pursuit  of  knowlege  as  to  trim 
the  midnight  lamp,  and  anticipate  the  dawn  by  his  studies, 
till  his  ey^e  waxes  dim,  his  cheek  grows  pale,  and  the  seeds 
of  disease  begin  to  spring  up  in  his  constitution,  which  has 
become  enfeebled  by  mental  application  ;  and  yet  he  cares 
nothing  for  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  heaven — there 
is  one  book  he  studies  not,  and  that  the  best  of  books — and 
one  science  he  cares  not  to  know,  and  that  the  science  of 
salvation.  To  such  a  man  we  say,  in  Foster's  striking 
language,  "  By  what  dexterity  of  irreligious  caution  did  you 
precisely  avoid  every  track  where  the  idea  of  God  would 
meet  you,  or  elude  that  idea  when  it  came  ?  What  must 
sound  reason  think  of  that  mind,  which  amidst  millions  of 
thoughts,  has  wandered  to  all  things  under  the  sun — to  all 
the  permanent,  or  vanishing  appearances  of  creation,  but 
never  fixed  its  thoughts  on  the  supreme  reality,  and  never 
approached  like  Moses  to  see  that  great  sight."  There  may 
be  docility  and  meekness,  gentleness  of  disposition,  and  the 
utmost  general  loveliness  of  ckarader^  and  yet  none  of  tho 
humility  of  genuine  religion,  nt»ne  of  the  true  poverty  of 
spirit,  none  of  the  meekness  and  gentleness  of  Christ,  none 
of  the  mind  that  was  in  Jesus.  There  may  be  unexception- 
able sobriety — all  the  passions  may  be  under  the  restraint.-? 
of  reason — all  the  propensities  may  be  ruled  by  the  nio.st 
entire  self-government — yet  there  may  not  be  that  holy 
sober-mindedness,    which   is   the   subject   of   the   apostle's 


108  THE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

exhortation,  and  which  consists  in  keeping  the  great  end  of 
life  in  view,  and  adopting  such  principles  as  are  connected 
with  it.  There  may  be  the  assiduities  of  an  active  benevolence 
in  young  people,  a  willing  co-operation  in  schemes  of  useful- 
ness for  the  benefit  of  the  nation  or  the  world,  or  of  some 
particular  class  of  objects  of  human  compassion  ;  much  labor 
may  be  bestowed,  much  self-denial  practised  ;  and  yet  all  this 
while  there  may  be  no  working  out  their  own  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling.  There  may  be  honesty  and  trustworthi- 
ness as  a  servant,  exemplary  diligence  and  perseverance — and 
yet  there  may  be  no  giving  diligence  to  the  great  work  of 
pleasing  God,  and  no  exercise  of  solicitude  to  serve  the  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  Yea,  as  in  the  case  of  the  young  man  men- 
tioned in  the  text,  there  may  be  some  concern  about  religion, 
a  regular  attendance  on  the  ordinances  of  the  sanctuary — 
some  occasional  impressions  and  convictions — some  transient 
concern  about  -eternity — and  yet  there  may  be  no  entire 
giving  up  sin  and  the  world ;  no  complete  surrender  of  the 
soul  to  Christ  ;  no  regeneration  of  heart ;  no  faith  in  Christ ; 
no  holiness.  A  man  may  know  the  truth  and  not  love  it : 
he  may  hear  the  gospel  and  not  believe  it :  he  may  contem- 
plate the  scheme  of  redemption  and  not  improve  it :  he  may 
know  something  of  the  doctrine  of  the  cross,  and  yet  not 
appropriate  it  for  the  salvation  of  his  soul :  and  he  may 
speculate  about  the  glory  of  the  Saviour,  and  the  suitable- 
ness of  his  character  and  work,  and  yet  not  embrace  the 
Saviour,  and  receive  his  righteousness  as  the  ground  of  his 
everlasting  hope. 

It  is  most  impressive  and  affecting  to  consider  to  what  a 
list  of  general  excellencies,  to  what  an  assemblage  of  virtues, 
in  the  same  character,  this  sad  declaration  must  be  some- 
times added,  "  Yet  there  is  one  thing  lacking,"     0  !  to  look 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  109 

successively  upon  the  varied  forms  of  unsanctified  moral 
beauty,  as  tliey  pass  before  the  searching  eye  of  Christian 
scrutiny,  and  to  have  to  say  to  each  as  he  goes  by,  "  Yet 
lackest  thou  the  one  thing  needful !" 

Thirdly. — Whatever  may  be  possessed  short  of  true 
religion  is,  viewing  man  as  an  immortal  creature,  essentially 
and  ruinously  defective.  And  in  what  other  light  than  an 
immortal  creature  can  he  be  viewed,  if  we  really  include  his 
whole  being,  and  his  highest  being  }  I  will  suppose,  then, 
the  possession  of  many  things,  yea,  I  will  carry  the  idea  as 
far  as  it  can  be  carried,  and  will  suppose  the  possession  of 
everything — except  this  one  thing — true  religion — and 
in  the  lack  of  that,  there  is  a  chasm  which  all  the  rest  can- 
not fill  up — a  deficiency  they  cannot  supply.  To  say  of  a 
human  being,  a  rational,  sinful,  and  immortal  creature,  he 
has  everything — but  religion  ;  is  as  if  we  should  say  of  a 
citizen,  he  has  everything  but  patriotism — of  a  child,  he  has 
everything  but  filial  piety — of  a  husband,  he  has  everything 
but  conjugal  affection.  It  is  just  that  want  for  which  no 
assemblage  of  acquisitions  and  other  excellencies  can  be  the 
smallest  substitute  or -compensation.  Collect  a  garland  of 
beautiful  flowers,  and  wreathe  them  round  the  brow  of  a 
corpse,  lovely  even  in  death,  and  ask,  "  What  is  wanting 
here  .^"  And  the  very  silence  answers, — Life.  This  is  a 
just  representation  of  the  unsanctified  excellencies  of  a 
young  person  without  religion.  Look  at  this  defect  in 
various  relations. 

1.  To  God.  The  other  things  may  have  no  direct 
reference  to  him,  but  this  has,  and  this  only.  It  is  what  he 
demands.  Some  of  the  other  things  he  leaves  to  your  taste ; 
but  this  he  binds  upon  your  conscience.  He  demands  your 
faith ;  your  love ;  your  submission ;  your  devotedness ;  and 


110  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

you  are  content  with  excellencies  that  have  no  reference 
whatever  to  your  Creator,  Preserver,  and  Benefactor  !  You 
can  be  content  to  smile  upon  your  fellow-creatures,  and  be 
smiled  upon  by  them,  without  ever  asking,  "  Where  is  God, 
my  Maker,  that  I  might  enjoy  the  light  of  his  countenance, 
and  reflect  it  back  in  gratitude  and  love  ?"  Is  God  just  that 
one  being  whom  you  might  leave  out  of  all  consideration  and 
regard,  and  treat  at  least  worthy  of  being  acknowledged  and 
thought  of?  Is  God  just  that  one  friend,  whom  it  is  quite  a 
venial  sin  to  banish  from  the  mind,  and  who  is  to  be  no 
more  regarded  than  if  he  were  some  idol  in  a  temple  of  India  ? 
Is  love  to  God  just  that  one  state  of  heart  which  can  be  best 
spared  from  the  virtuous  affections,  and  by  its  absence  make 
no  chasm?  Shall  you  by  civility,  courtesy,  good-nature, 
seek  to  please  and  gratify  every  one  besides,  and  not  seek  to 
please  God  by  religion  ?  Did  it  ever  occur  to  you  to  ask, 
"  How  must  I  appear  in  the  sight  of  God  himself,  with  this 
one  defect — a  want  of  religion  ?"  How  odious,  indeed  !  and 
hateful,  and  desperately  wicked,  in  his  sight,  must  that  one 
defect  make  you  appear  I  For  him  to  see  you  the  joy  of  your 
friends,  giving  and  receiving  pleasure — but  all  this  while  no 
communion  with  him  maintained  or  even  sought — no  devout, 
ennobling  converse  held  with  hiai — no  sincere  pouring  out 
the  soul  in  the  way  of  fervent  desires  for  his  illumination, 
his  compassion,  his  forgiveness,  his  transforming  operations 
— no  earnest  penitential  pleading  in  the  name  of  Christ,  for 
his  favor  ;  no  solemn,  affectionate  dedication  of  the  whole 
being  to  his  service.  Instead  of  all  this,  mere  general 
excellencies  which  give  you  good  standing  among  your  fellow- 
creatures,  but  which  have  no  more  reference  to  him  than  if 
he  did  not  exist.  Ah  !  what  a  defect  that  one  blank  must 
be  in  the  sight  of  God. 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  Ill 

2.  View  it  now  in  reference  to  the  Bible ,  the  book  of  Grod, 
Itnd  all  the  great  subjects  which  it  contains^  It  was  to 
implant  this  one  thing  in  your  heart,  that  the  Son  of  God 
became  incarnate,  and  died  upon  the  cross — that  the  Holy- 
Spirit  was  poured  out — that  the  Scriptures  were  written — 
that  the  law  was  given — that  the  Psalmist  was  inspired  to 
record  his  sorrows,  confessions,  aspirations,  and  devotions — 
that  prophets  uttered  their  predictions — that  apostles  penned 
their  gospels  and  epistles.  Heaven  has  opened  and  poured 
forth  its  splendors  and  its  revelations,  not  to  make  you 
simply  amiable,  which  you  might  have  been  without  this 
series  of  communications  from  the  invisible  world ;  not 
merely  to  bestow  a  few  general  ornaments  upon  the  character, 
leaving  its  substance  unchanged,  defective,  and  corrupt  as 
it  is  ;  not  merely  to  fit  you  to  give  pleasure  in  the  circle 
of  your  earthly  friends,  while  still  alienated  from  God  and 
holiness  :  Oh,  no  !  The  Bible,  that  wondrous  book,  that 
silent  testimony  for  God  and  from  him,  was  penned  to  bring 
you  under  the  influence  of  vital,  experimental  religion. 
And  yet  you  are  content  with  amiabilities,  with  which  you 
might  have  been  possessed,  if  this  volume  had  never  been 
written  !  The  Bible,  God's  book,  written  by  the  inspiration 
of  God's  Spirit,  containing  God's  thoughts,  expressed  in 
God's  words,  calls  you  then,  not  to  mere  general  excel- 
lencies, but  to  this  one  thing  which  you  lack.  Patriarchs, 
priests,  prophets,  apostles,  martyrs,  all  say  to  you,  "  Yet 
lackest  thou  one  thing."  Every  writer,  every  page,  of  the 
holy  book  repeats  the  admonition. 

3.  View  this  defect  in  reference  to  yourselves.  All  other 
things  fall  short  of  your  faculties — your  capacity — your 
wants — your  desires.  Amiableness,  intelligence,  sprightli- 
ness,  do  no^^  meet  your  cise,  you  noed  something  higher  nnd 


112  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

better.  You  want  religion  whether  you  desire  it  or  not 
You  may  to  a  considerable  extent  be  ignorant  of  your  neces- 
sity  in  this  respect,  but  it  exists.  It  is  the  one  thing  which 
you  not  only  lack,  but  need.  Religion  is  not  to  be  viewed 
as  a  thing  which  your  Creator  imposes  upon  you  by  a  mere 
arbitrary  appointment,  as  if  he  would  exact,  simply  in  asser- 
tion of  his  supremacy,  and  in  requirement  of  homage  from 
his  creature,  something  which  in  itself  is  foreign  to  the 
necessities  of  your  nature.  It  is  not  a  kind  of  tree  of  know- 
ledge of  good  and  evil,  a  simple  test  of  obedience.  No. 
*'  By  its  intrinsic  quality  it  so  corresponds  to  your  nature, 
that  the  possession  of  it  is  vital,  and  its  rejection,  mortal,  to 
your  felicity.  From  the  spiritual  principle  of  your  soul, 
there  is  an  absolute  necessity  that  it  should  be  raised  into 
complacent  communication  with  its  Divine  Original."  It  is 
as  much  constituted  to  need  this  communication  now  and 
for  ever,  as  the  child  is  to  receive  the  nourishment  which 
Providence  has  laid  up  in  the  breast  of  its  mother ;  and  it 
seems  as  rational  to  suppose  the  infant  could  be  satisfied  and 
fed,  and  made  to  grow  by  the  ornaments  that  might  be  lav- 
ished upon  its  robes,  while  the  mother's  milk  is  denied,  as 
that  a  soul  formed  to  enjoy  God  can  be  satisfied  with  any 
general  excellencies  of  character,  while  religion  which  leads 
to  the  fountain  of  true  happiness  is  neglected  :  and  if  it  be 
not  so  exalted  as  to  be  placed  in  communion  with  God,  it  is 
degraded  and  prostrated  to  objects  which  cannot  by  their 
nature,  adequately  meet,  and  fill,  and  bless  its  faculties. 
No  matter  what  you  are  or  what  you  have,  if  you  have  not 
religion  :  for  if  you  have  not  religion,  you  have  not  God  : 
you  are  without  God.  And  what  can  make  up  for  that 
privation  .''  Consider  only  one  single  view  of  such  a  situa- 
tion, that  of  the  loneliness  of  a  human  soul  without  God, 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  11.1 

'  ^  All  otlier  things  are  necessarily  extraneous  to  tlie  soul  ; 
they  may  communicate  with  it,  but  they  are  still  separate 
and  without  it,  an  intermediate  vacancy  keeps  them  for  ever 
asunder  ;  so  that,  till  God,  whose  essence  pervades  all  things^ 
comes  in  and  is  apprehended  and  felt  to  be  absolutely  in  the 
soul,  the  soul  must  be,  in  a  sense,  in  an  insuperable  and 
eternal  solitude."  But  when  religion  comes  into  the  soul, 
then  God  comes  to  dwell  in  it,  and  thus  "  the  interior,  cen- 
tral loneliness,  the  solitude  of  the  soul,  is  banished  by  a 
most  perfectly  intimate  presence,  which  supplies  the  most 
affecting  sense  of  society — a  society,  a  communion,  which 
imparts  life  and  joy,  and  may  continue  in  perpetuity." 
Happy  is  the  man,  whose  soul  hath  this  one  thing  which 
meets  all  its  faculties,  wants,  and  woes.  What  can  the 
other  and  lesser  things  do  in  time  of  sickness,  of  misfortune, 
of  bereavement,  and  of  death  }  Will  a  sprightly  disposition, 
a  merry  temper,  a  humorous  fancy,  or  even  a  well-stored 
intellect,  be  of  any  service  then  ?  What  will  these  things 
do  in  such  circumstances }  They  may  grow  as  flowers  in 
the  path  of  life,  but  will  they  bloom  in  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death  }  Infidelity  indeed  gives  us  one  instance,  I 
mean  Hume,  who  could  find  no  higher  or  better  employment 
than  playing  cards,  reading  novels,  or  cracking  jokes  upon 
Charon  and  his  boat,  in  prospect  of  that  eternity,  which,  with 
his  views,  presented  nothing  but  the  shadows  of  eternal 
night.  Such  levity  ill  comported  with  such  anticipations  ; 
and  was  perhaps  nothing  better  than  the  act  of  a  timid  boy 
going  through  a  church-yard  at  night, 

"  Whistling  to  keep  his  spirits  up." 

4.  But  view  these  defective  things  in  reference  to  the  day 
of  judgment  and  the  scenes  that  follow.     Yes,  there  is  a  daji 


114  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

ordained,  in  which  God  will  judge  the  world  in  righveous* 
ness,  by  Jesus  Christ.  "  Rejoice,  0  young  man,  in  thy 
youth,  and  let  thy  heart  cheer  thee  in  the  days  of  thy  youth, 
and  walk  in  the  ways  of  thine  heart,  and  in  the  sight  of 
thine  eyes  ;  but  know  thou  that  for  all  these  things,  God 
will  bring  thee  into  judgment."  Imagine  that  day  were 
come — that  you  heard  the  trumpet  sound — that  you  saw  the 
dead  rising  from  their  graves — the  world  in  flames — the 
Judge  descending — the  great  white  throne  fixed  in  the  air — 
the  nations  gathered  round  the  dread  tribunal,  waiting  their 
doom.  What  an  awful,  ineffable,  inconceivable  scene — the 
last  day — the  judgment  of  a  world — the  close  of  time — the 
commencement  of  eternity — the  opening  of  heaven  and  hell 
to  receive  their  everlasting  inmates  !  Conceive,  young  men, 
conceive,  if  it  be  possible  to  grasp,  to  hold,  to  endure,  the  con- 
ception, of  your  going  up  to  the  tribunal,  to  have  your  char- 
acter scrutinized,  and  your  doom  pronounced,  and  when  lis- 
tening for  the  result,  to  hear  only  that  dreadful  sentence, 
"  Thou  art  weighed  in  the  balances  and  found  wanting.'''' 
Thy  defective  amiabilities  are  of  no  avail  here.  Thy  good 
nature — thy  sprightly  temper — thy  varied  intelligence — thy 
attractive  amenity — have  not  the  weight  of  a  feather,  are 
not  the  small  dust  of  the  balance,  in  which  thy  character  is 
determined.  Thou  hast  lacked  one  thing — that  one  thing  is 
everything  here.  "  Thoit,  art  weighed  in  the  balances  and 
found  wanting.''^  How,  how  will  you  endure  that  decision  ? 
It  has  been  very  strikingly  observed,  that  "  At  the  day  of 
judgment,  the  attention  excited  by  the  surrounding  scene, 
the  strange  aspect  of  nature,  the  dissolution  of  the  elements, 
and  the  last  trump,  will  have  no  other  efffect  than  to  cause 
the  reflections  of  the  sinner  to  return  with  a  more  over- 
whelming tide  upon  his  own  character,  his  sentence,  his  un- 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  115 

changing  destiny ;  and  amidst  the  innumerable  millions  who 
surround  him,  he  will  mourn  apart. ''^ 

5.  View  it  in  relation  to  heaven.  The  loveliest  of  all  dis- 
positions, and  the  possession  of  the  richest  excellencies,  apart 
from  faith  in  Christ,  and  the  love  of  God,  have  no  reference 
to  that  state,  and  constitute  no  meetness  for  it.  Heaven  is 
a  holy  place  and  state  for  holy  people,  and  "  Without  holi- 
ness no  man  shall  see  the  Lord,"  whatever  else  he  may  have. 
Will  good  temper,  amenity  of  disposition,  vivacity,  wit,  or 
humor,  alone  prepare  the  soul  for  converse  with  God  ?  Are 
these  the  things  that  meeten  us  for  the  communion  of  holy 
angels  and  holy  men  in  the  presence  of  a  holy  God  ?  At 
best  such  attainments  are  the  flowers  of  an  earthly  soil,  and 
not  the  plants  of  Paradise.  How  completely  would  the 
possessors  of  such  qualities  alone,  without  a  holy,  heavenly 
taste  and  bias,  find  themselves  out  of  their  element  in  that 
region  of  which  holiness  is  the  pervading  character,  an(? 
which,  while  it  attracts  to  itself  all  that  is  holy,  rejects  every- 
thing else. 

I  now  address  myself  to  three  classes  of  young  persons.* 
First.  To  those  who  have  some  things  generally  lovely 
atul  excellent  in  their  character ,  bmt  are  destitute  of  true 
religion, — to  you  that  have  sweet  dispositions — or  good  talenta 
— or  acquired  knowledge — or  attractive  wit  and  humor — or 
vivacious  temper — or  all  these  together — but  unsanctified  b^ 
piety,  unconsecrated  to  God,  unemployed  for  Christ.  Alas, 
alas,  what  a  wilderness  of  blooming  weeds  of  various  forms 
and  colors,  but  weeds  still,  07ily  weeds ;  and  as  to  any 
influence  upon  your  happy  destiny  in  eternity,  useless  and 

*  Some  of  the  sentiments  and  expressions  in  this  conclusion,  are 
borrowed  from  Dr.  Watts'  Sermon  on  the  same  text,  entitled,  "A 
nopeful  Youth  falling  short  o^  Heaven. 


116  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

vain ;  fbrming  only  a  garland  for  the  immortal  soul  on  her 
way  to  perdition,  but  no  crown  of  amaranth  for  the  glorified 
spirit  in  heaven  and  eternity  ;  nor  even  any,  the  smallest 
relief,  under  her  miseries  in  that  world  of  helpless  despair  to 
which  her  want  of  religion  must  inevitably  consign  her. 
With  a  fidelity  which  my  regard  to  truth,  to  God,  and  your- 
selves, alike  require,  I  assure  you  that  no  amount  of  amiable 
and  interesting  qualities,  in  the  absence  of  religion,  can  by 
possibility  save  you  from  the  perdition  that  awaits  ungodly 
men.  There  is  an  infinite  diversity  both  of  kind  and  degree 
in  the  sins  to  be  found  in  the  characters  and  conduct  of  unre- 
newed and  unsanctified  men  ;  a  difference  as  great  as  that 
which  exists  between  this  amiable  youth  in  the  text,  and 
the  blaspheming  infidel  and  the  vicious  profligate  ;  and  all 
will  be  dealt  with  by  a  rule  of  proportion,  but  all  must  be 
swept  away  together,  the  most  beautiful  weeds,  and  the  most 
noxious  ones,  with  the  besom  of  destruction ;  and  however 
dissimilar  and  discordant  while  living  and  growing  upon  earth, 
they  will  be  blended  in  one  common  mass  of  irrecoverable 
corruption.  In  unsanctified  human  excellence,  that  which 
has  no  root  in  the  love  of  God  and  the  grace  of  the  Holy 
Spirit,- there  is  no  imperishable  principle  ;  no  germ  of  divine, 
heavenly,  and  immortal  life ;  it  is,  the  very  best  of  it,  but  of 
the  earth,  earthy, — it  must  die  in  the  soil  from  which  it  rises, 
and  can  never  be  transplanted  to  the  paradise  of  God.  I  pity 
the  young,  the  vigorous,  the  comely  figures  that  neglect  to 
seek  after  divine  grace,  and  that  are  ruined  for  ever  by  the 
want  of  religion.  I  pity  the  man  of  sweet  temper,  without 
sanctifying  grace — of  solid  judgment,  without  sound  piety — 
of  lively  imagination,  without  a  living  faith — of  attractive 
manners,  without  himself  being  attracted  to  the  cross  of 
Christ — of  courtesy  towards  man,  who  yet  cherishes  enmity 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  Il7 

towards  God — who  is  a  polished  gentleman,  yet  an  uncon- 
verted sinner — the  admiration  of  his  companions,  and  yet  au 
object  of  displeasure  to  his  Creator.  So  much  general 
excellence  infected  by  a  deadly  taint  that  corrupts  it  all ! 
How  at  the  last  day  will  such  persons  be  mortified,  enraged, 
and  tormented  to  see  men  preferred  to  themselves,  whom 
when  on  earth  they  despised  as  undeserving  of  their  notice 
— the  men  of  ignorant  minds,  clownish  manners,  and  rugged 
exterior.  Yes,  but  under  all  that  outward  repulsiveness  were 
concealed  the  principles  of  true  religion — repentance  towards 
God,  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  a  holy  life.  Much 
that  is  amiable  was  wanting,  but  there  was  religious  principle. 
To  see  them  owned  by  the  Judge,  exalted  to  his  throne,  and 
crowned  with  his  glory ;  while  unsanctified  genius  and  irre- 
ligious amiableness  are  rejected  as  reprobate  silver — how 
profoundly  humiliating,  how  terribly  exasperating  to  those 
who  then  will  be  thrown  aside  by  God  as  rubbish  and  refuse. 
And  following  these  rejected  youths  of  unsanctified  amiable- 
ness onward  to  their  eternal  state,  what  miserable  spectacles 
do  they  present.  You  that  were  the  life  of  every  company 
into  which  you  came,  and  whose  absence  was  mourned  as 
that  of  the  charmer  of  the  circle, — will  your  gay  fancy 
brighten  the  gloom  of  those  regions  of  sorrow,  or  give  airs  of 
gladness  to  those  doleful  shades  to  which  you  and  they  will 
then  be  banished  !  Will  you  by  any  of  your  present  acquisi- 
tions, be  able  to  relieve  yourselves  or  your  companions  of  the 
torture  produced  by  the  recollection  that  it  was  these  very 
arts  of  wit  and  humor,  sometimes  turned  against  religion, 
that  helped  them  on  to  that  place  of  punishment }  Will 
sallies  of  wit,  sportive  jests,  airs  of  merriment,  playful 
humor,  beguile  the  dreadful  round  of  the  miseries  of  a  lost 
soul,  and  make  the  wheels  of  eternity  move  faster  and  lighter, 


118  THK    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

as  they  did  those  of  time  ?  How  will  you  of  soft  and  gentle 
nature,  of  amiable  disposition,  bear  the  banishment  to  which 
you  will  be  condemned  from  the  regions  of  peace  and  con- 
cord, the  paradise  of  love,  the  habitation  of  all  holy  friend- 
ship ;  and  the  imprisonment  with  demons  and  demon-like 
men  ?  "  How  will  your  souls  endure  the  madness  and  con- 
tention, the  envy  and  spite,  of  wicked  angels  ;  you  that 
delighted  on  earth  in  works  of  peaee,  what  will  you  do  when 
your  tender  dispositions  shall  be  hourly  ruffled  by  the  uproar 
and  confusion  of  these  dark  regions  ?  And  instead  of  the 
society  of  God  and  blessed  spirits,  ye  shall  be  eternally  vexed 
with  the  perverse  tempers  of  your  fellow-sinners,  the  sons  of 
darkness  ?  0  that  I  could  speak  in  melting  language  or  in 
the  language  of  effectual  terror,  that  I  might  by  any  means 
awaken  your  souls  to  jealousy  and  timely  fear  !  That  so 
many  natural  excellencies  as  God  hath  distributed  among 
you,  might  not  be  wasted  in  sin,  abased  to  dishonor,  and 
aggravate  your  everlasting  misery."* 

I  most  earnestly  exhort  you  to  supply  the  defect  to  which 
this  sermon  has  directed  your  attention,  and  admonish  you 
to  add  to  all  that  is  amiable,  that  which  is  holy ;  to  all  that 
is  lovely  in  the  sight  of  man,  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in 
the  sight  of  God  ;  to  all  that  is  earthly  in  the  way  of  excel- 
lence, that  which  is  heavenly,  divine,  and  eternal.  Bear  in 
vivid  recollection  what  it  is  you  need.  You  have,  or  are 
supposed  to  have,  attractive  endowments  of  mind,  or  heart, 
or  character — but  not  real,  decided,  spiritual  religion.  And 
will  that  religion,  if  you  have  it,  interfere  with  any  of  your 
other  excellencies  ?  Will  it  displace  them  to  make  room  for 
itself ;  Will  it  pull  up  all  those  flowers  and  throw  them 
away,  as  inimical  to  its  own  nature,  and  prejudicial  to  its  own 

*  Dr.  Watts. 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  119 

growth  ?  Nothing  of  the  sort.  Amiableness  is  homogene- 
ous with  religion — the  former  is  loveliness  in  the  sight  of 
man,  and  the  latter  is  loveliness  in  the  sight  of  God.  When 
the  grace  of  Grod  enters  the  soul  of  man,  what  it  finds  beauti- 
ful it  makes  more  beautiful.  It  comes  not  like  the  cold'chills 
and  dark  shadows  of  evening  or  of  winter  to  shut  up  the 
flowers,  and  hide  their  beauties,  and  nip  their  strength  ;  but 
like  the  rising  sun,  to  open  their  petals,  to  reveal  their  beau- 
ties, to  brighten  their  colors,  to  exhale  their  fragrance,  and 
to  invigorate  their  strength.  Religion  is  itself  the  chief 
amiableness,  and  the  cherisher  of  all  other  kinds.  Hence  it 
is  that  holiness  is  everywhere  called  beauty. 

Secondly.  There  is  another  class  I  would  briefly  address, 
I  mean  those  who  are  as  defective  in  amiableness  as  they  are 
in  religion.  Alas,  how  many  are  there  of  this  character,  who 
have  neither  gentleness  nor  graciousness  ;  who  are  possessed 
neither  of  the  beauties  of  holiness,  nor  the  attractions  of 
kindness,  godliness,  and  courtesy ;  but  who  are  as  unlovely 
as  they  are  ungodly ;  and  have  scarcely  any  to  take  delight 
in  them  either  in  heaven  or  upon  earth.  Morose,  ungentle, 
unaccommodating  in  their  disposition,  they  are  incapable  of 
enjoying  happiness,  and  unwilling  to  impart  it.  They  have 
oven  no  external  and  tinsel  ornaments  to  compensate  for  the 
want  of  internal  and  substantial  excellencies.  They  are  like 
flowers  which  have  no  beauty  of  color  to  divert  attention 
from  their  ofi'ensive  color  ;  like  fruits  which  are  as  bitter  to 
the  taste  as  they  are  unsightly  to  the  eye ;  like  "certain  ani- 
mals, whose  outward  characteristics  are  offensive  to  every 
sense,  and  whose  flesh  is  unfit  for  food.  Unhappy  young 
men  !  See  them  at  home  ;  they  are  tyrannical,  morose,  selfish, 
domineering,  the  troublers  of  domestic  peace,  the  constant 
cause  of  disquiet  and  disturbance.     Even  to  their  parents 


120  THE    YOUNG    MAN's    FRIEND. 

thej  are  ungrateful,  disrespectful,  and  wayward  :  unmelted 
by  a  mother's  gentle  influence,  unsubdued  by  a  father's  mild 
authority,  and  unsoftened  by  the  gentle  fascination  of  a  sister's 
love  And  how  often  do  they  go  still  farther  in  this  want  of 
amiableness,  and  by  adding  immorality  and  profligacy  to 
unloveliness,  do  much  to  break  a  mother's  heart,  and  bring 
down  a  father's  grey  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the  grave  !  Ah, 
how  many  fratricides  and  matricides  walk  our  earth,  which 
no  law  but  that  of  God  can  arrest,  and  no  justice  but  that  of 
heaven  punish  !  How  many  carry  the  heart  of  a  savage 
under  the  name  of  a  son  ;  and  the  poison  of  asps  under  their 
tongues  and  in  their  tempers,  and  towards  even  their  parents 
transvenom  all  emotions  of  filial  piety  into  the  wormwood 
and  gall  of  intense  hatred  of  those  to  whom  they  owe  their 
very  existence  !  What  an  object  of  abhorrence  must  such  a 
youth  be  to  that  divine  Saviour  who  evinced  in  the  subject  of 
this  sermon  not  only  his  sensibility  to  the  beauties  of  holi- 
ness, but  to  the  loveliness  of  general  excellence.  Is  there 
such  a  youth  attending  to  me  at  this  moment — go,  young 
man,  from  this  discourse  to  your  closet,  your  Bible,  your 
knees,  and  your  God,  and  implore  that  grace  which  has  said, 
"  Instead  of  the  thorn  shall  come  up  the  fir  tree,  and  instead 
of  the  briar  shall  come  up  the  myrtle  tree." 

Thirdly.  I  address  those  who  are  in  earnest  after  reli- 
gion^ and  who  really  possess  its  essential  principles,  but 
are  somewhat  deficient  in  the  more  lovely  and  ornamental 
beauties  of  the  Christian  character.  This  is  not  a  defective 
amiableness  merely,  but  a  defective  religion.  And  observa- 
tion convinces  us  that  it  is  no  suppositious  character.  It 
ought  not  to  exist,  but  it  does.  Religion,  in  itself  the  very 
type  of  all  that  is  true,  and  good,  and  beautiful,  should  draw 
after  it  every  thing  else  that  is  beautiful.     The  supreme  J  Dve- 


V    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  121 

liness  should  command  the  subordinate,  but  it  does  not 
always.  It  must  be  sorrowfully  admitted  that  a  mind  en- 
lightened by  the  Spirit  of  God — a  heart  renewed  by  divine 
grace— -a  life  regulated  by  Christian  principle — are  not  always 
associated,  in  a  proportionate  degree,  with  the  ornament  of  a 
meek  and  quiet  spirit,  an  amiable  temper,  and  a  courteous 
demeanor.  We  have  sometimes  seen  a  form  of  distinguished 
personal  beauty  disfigured  by  a  want  of  cleanliness  and  a 
slovenly  attire.  The  exquisite  symmetry  could  not  be  alto 
gether  concealed  ;  but  how  much  more  attractive  would  it 
have  appeared  with  other  and  more  suitable  accompani- 
ments !  So  it  is  with  character ;  there  may  be  real  beauty 
of  holiness,  but  in  sad  and  slovenly  attire  of  temper. 
Changing  the  illustration,  I  may  observe,  the  brilliancy  of 
the  most  valuable  diamond  may  be  hidden  by  earthly 
incrustations ;  the  lustre  of  gold  may  be  dimmed  for  want 
of  polish ;  and  the  most  majestic  portrait  be  half  covered 
with  dust  or  mildew.  So  religion,  which  is  more  precious 
than  rubies,  more  valuable  than  gold,  and  the  very  image  of 
God  in  the  soul  of  man,  may  have  its  worth  and  its  excel- 
lence depreciated  by  infirmities  of  temper  and  a  want  of 
amiable  deportment.  Religious  young  men,  be  amiable  as 
well  as  pious  :  not  only  your  happiness,  but  your  usefulness 
requires  it.  You  know  that  vice  has  not  unfrequently  its 
attractions  in  the  amiabilities  with  which  it  is  associated, 
and  that  some  are  reconciled  to  it  on  this  ground.  It  is 
equally  true  that  religion  may  have  its  repulsions,  and  that 
some  may  be  driven  from  it  by  these  partial  deformities. 
Be  it  then  your  desire,  your  endeavor,  your  prayer,  to  unite 
the  holy  and  the  amiable  ;  let  the  diamond  with  its  flashing 
hues  be  thus  seen  in  its  most  tasteful  setting — the  gold  in 
ita  brightest  polish — and  the  picture  exhibiting  the  freshes* 


122  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

colors,  and  surrounded  by  the  richest  frame.  Win  you! 
companions  to  piety  by  the  attractions  with  which  in  your 
case  it  is  associated.  Make  them  feel  that  religion  is  not 
the  frowning  and  spectral  form  they  have  been  accustomed 
to  consider  it ;  a  gloomy  spirit  that  cannot  smile  ;  a  vampire 
that  sucks  the  life's  blood  of  joy  from  the  soul  of  youth. 
On  the  contrary,  let  them  see  that  it  is  angelical  and  not 
demoniacal  in  its  nature,  which  with  a  seraph's  sacred  fervor 
combines  his  sweetness,  gentleness,  and  ineffable  loveliness. 
It  is  this  which  while  it  will  prepare  you  to  pass  through  life 
blessing  and  being  blest,  happy  in  yourself  and  diffusing 
happiness  around  you,  will  also  prepare  you  for  the  immortal 
felicities  of  the  celestial  world.  "  It  is  this  which  trans- 
ferred to  heaven  will  kindle  with  new  and  immortal  lustre, 
and  will  be  set  in  that  constellated  firmament  of  living  and 
eternal  splendors.  Of  that  brilliant  world,  that  region  where 
all  things  live,  and  shine,  and  flourish,  and  triumph  for  ever 
and  ever,  the  glory,  the  excellence,  is  eminently  the  union 
of  all  that  is  holy  and  all  that  is  lovely.  There,  all  are 
brethren,  and  all  love,  and  are  loved  as  brethren.  All  are 
divinely  amiable,  and  excellent  friends.  Every  one  possesses 
in  absolute  perfection  the  moral  beauty  that  is  loved,  and 
the  virtue  which  loves  it.  Every  one,  conscious  of  unmingled 
purity  within,  approves  and  loves  himself  for  that  divine 
image,  which  in  complete  perfection,  and  with  untainted 
resemblance,  is  enstamped  upon  his  own  character.  Each 
in  every  view  which  he  casts  around  him  beholds  the  same 
glory  shining  and  brightening  in  the  endless  train  of  his 
companions ;  one  in  nature,  but  diversified  without  end  in 
those  forms  and  varieties  of  excellence  by  which  the  original 
and  eternal  Beauty  delights  to  present  itself  to  the  virtuous 
universe.     There,   every  one    conscious   of  being   entirely 


A    DEFECTIVE    AMIABILITY.  123 

lovely,  and  entirely  loved,  reciprocates  the  same  love  to  that 
great  multitude^  which  no  man  can  number ^  of  all  nations^ 
kindreds^  and  tongues,  and  which  fill  the  immeasurable 
regions  of  heaven.  Out  of  this  character  grows  a  series, 
ever  varying,  ever  improving,  of  all  the  possible  communi- 
cations of  beneficence,  fitted  in  every  instance  only  to 
interchange  and  increase  the  happiness  of  all.  In  the  sun- 
shine of  Infinite  complacency,  the  light  of  the  new  Jerusalem, 
the  original  source  of  all  their  own  beauty,  life,  and  joy,  all 
these  happy  nations  walk  for  ever^  and  transported  with  the 
life-giving  influence,  unite  in  one  harmonious  and  eternal 
hymn  to  the  great  Author  of  all  their  excellencies  and  all 
their  enjoyments — Blessing  and  honor j  and  glory^  and  wiS' 
dom  and  thanksgivings  he  unto  Him  who  sitteth  on  the  throm^ 
for  ever  and  ever.     Amen 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  PERPLEXED  BY  RELIGIOUS 
CONTROVERSY 


'•  What  is  truth  ?''     John  xviii.  38. 

Such  was  the  momentous  question  which  Pilate  proposed 
to  the  illustrious  and  holy  martyr  who  then  stood  as  a 
prisoner  at  his  bar.  It  has  been  said  there  are  two  things  in 
the  Scripture  account  of  this  circumstance  which  surprise 
us — the  silence  of  Christ,  and  the  indifference  of  his  judge. 
It  is  surprising  that  Christ  should  not  answer  such  a  ques- 
tion— and  no  less  so,  that  Pilate  should  not  press  it  till  he 
obtained  an  answer.  One  of  these  wonders  is  the  cause  of 
the  other,  and  if  you  consider  them  in  connection,  your 
astonishment  will  cease.  The  levity  of  the  querist  was  the 
cause  of  the  silence  of  the  oracle.  Truth  in  awful  majesty, 
though  veiled  and  insulted,  stood  before  him,  and  indignantly 
refused  to  unfold  its  secrets  and  its  glories  to  one  who  dis- 
covered such  frivolity  on  such  a  subject.  It  was  the  ques- 
tion on  his  lips  of  idle  curiosity,  not  of  deep  solicitude  ; 
which  came  from  the  surface,  and  not  from  the  lowest  depths 
of  the  heart.     If  Christ  had  gratified  Pilate's  curiosity,  well  j 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELTGIOrS    CONTROVERSY.  125 

but  he  did  not  think  truth  of  sufficient  importance  to  inquire 
after  it  a  second  time. 

The  conduct  of  Pilate  to  Jesus  and  of  Jesus  to  Pilate  is 
repeated  every  day.  Multitudes,  by  a  little  attention  to  re- 
ligion and  their  Bibles,  a^k,  "  What  is  truth .?"  but  it  is  in 
such  a  careless  and  undevout  manner,  that  Jesus  Christ 
leaves  them  to  wander  in  their  own  dark  and  miserable  con- 
jectures. Hence  so  many  prejudices  ;  hence  so  many  erro- 
nous  opinions  of  religion ;  hence  so  many  dangerous  delu- 
sions, in  what  is  called  the  Christian  world. 

Still  there  have  been  very  many  who  in  sober  and  solemn 
inquisitiveness  have  asked  the  question,  "  What  is  truth  ?" 
Myriads  of  human  intellects  of  the  highest  order  have 
engaged  in  the  pursuit  of  this  great  object ;  and  as  regards 
scientific  knowledge,  have  by  demonstration  and  experi* 
ment  echoed  in  unison,  and  with  something  of  the  rapture  with 
which  it  was  originally  uttered,  the  Eureka  of  Archimedes. 
But  in  reference  to  moral  and  religious  truth,  how  multitu- 
dinous, and  how  contradictory  are  the  voices  which  answer 
the  inquiry  !  If  we  may  judge  from  the  present  state  and 
aspect  of  Christendom,  the  day  is  far  distant  when  the 
response  to  the  question  shall  come  forth  in  a  grand  uni- 
vocal  reply,  "  This  is  truth."  Hence  the  perplexities  of 
many  young  persons  at  the  outset  of  their  religious  life. 

Many  things,  young  men,  will  perplex  you  at  the  outset 
of  a  religious  life,  and  tend  in  the  early  stages  of  your 
inquiry  into  this  momentous  subject,  to  embarrass  you.  The 
mysterious  nature  of  the  whole  subject  of  religion,  so  far  as 
it  relates  to  divine,  heavenly,  and  eternal  truths  ;  the  general 
neo'lect  of  the  subject  in  any  earnest  manner  by  the  multi- 
tude around  you  ;  and  the  lukewarmness  and  inconsistency 
of  many  of  those  who  make  a  profession  of  it ;  will  all  be  apt 


126  '. 

to  produce  an  unfavorable  impression  upon  your  mind,  to 
shake  your  resolutions,  and  render  your  steps  hesitating  and 
faltering.  There  is  also  another  cause  of  perplexity,  which 
is  the  subject  of  this  evening's  discourse  ;  I  mean  the  number 
of  religious  sects,  the  diversity  of  creeds,  and  the  ceaseless 
and  yet  unsettled  controversies  which  prevail  throughout  all 
Christendom.  Amidst  such  diversity,  you  are  bewildered  ; 
and  amidst  such  contentions,  distracted,  and  ready  to  aban- 
don the  subject  in  hopeless  despair  of  arriving  at  the  truth. 

I  sympathize  with  you,  my  young  friends,  in  your  difficul- 
ties, and  have  met  you  this  evening  with  a  discourse  which  is 
intended,  by  God's  blessing,  to  extricate,  relieve,  and  guide 
you ;  and  which  if  it  do  not  remove — for  what  can  remove 
the  difficulty — may  do  something  to  lessen  it. 

First.— I  will  state  particularly  what  if  is  that  perplexes 
you.  I  descend  into  the  depths  of  your  secret  thoughts,  and 
I  find  there  some  surprise  that  on  such  a  subject  as  roligion, 
especially  with  a  revelation  from  God,  there  should  be  any 
controversy,  or  any  room  for  controversy  at  all.  You  may 
be  ready  to  suppose  that  all  would  be  so  plain  as  to  preclude 
the  possibility  of  diversity,  controversy,  or  mistake.  But,  do 
men  think  alike  on  any  other  subject  ?  Is  there  consenta- 
neousness  of  opinion  on  any  one  topic  that  is  sustained  only 
by  moral  evidence  ?  Was  there,  for  instance,  ever  a  statute 
of  law  passed,  which  is  usually  so  framed  as  to  exclude  if 
possible  all  diflperences  of  opinion,  about  which  lawyers  might 
not  as  to  some  of  its  clauses  raise  doubts  and  difficulties,  and 
express  differences  of  opinion  .?  Is  not  a  written  revelation 
from  God,  inasmuch  as  it  relates  to  subjects  foreign  from  our 
ordinary  matters,  remote  from  our  senses,  and  out  of  the 
usual  track  of  our  thoughts,  just  that  one  thing  about  which 
beyond  all  others,  diversity  of  opinion  might  be  expected ' 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOtS   CONTROVERSY.  127 

Consider  the  thousands  of  propositions  contained  in  the 
Bible  ;  consider  the  ambiguities  of  language  ;  the  mysterious- 
ness  of  the  subjects  ;  the  endlessly  diversified  temperament  of 
the  human  mind  and  circumstances  in  which  that  mind  is 
placed  ;  and  you  will  see  at  once  that  nothing  short  of  an 
astounding  and  constant  miracle  could  produce  absolute 
uniformity  of  opinion.  Nor  is  this  all ;  for  such  is  the  cor- 
ruption of  the  human  mind,  that  it  is  not  only  on  this  ground 
likely  to  go  wrong  in  its  judgments,  but  it  is  actually  opposed 
with  very  strong  dislike  to  many  of  the  truths  revealed,  and 
which  on  that  account  it  really  wishes  and  attempts  to 
pervert,  as  being  too  humbling  for  its  pride,  too  pure  for  its 
depravity,  and  too  authoritative  for  its  love  of  independence. 
Here,  again,  we  see  reason  to  abate  our  surprise  at  this 
diversity  of  opinion. 

2.  The  young  inquirer  about  religion  is  not  unfrequently 
scandalized  and  disgusted,  by  the  bitterness  of  sectarianism, 
and  the  rancor  with  which  controversy  is  conducted.  He 
sees  the  evil  passions  of  our  corrupt  nature,  "  malice,  wrath, 
and  all  uncharitableness,"  as  rife  in  the  writings,  and  there- 
fore in  the  hearts,  of  religious  polemics,  as  they  are  in  those 
of  the  fiercest  political  antagonists ;  and  he  says  in  thought- 
ful seriousness,  ''  Was  not  Christianity  sent  to  produce 
peace  on  earth,  and  good  will  to  men  1  Is  it  not  said  that 
love  is  its  gardinal  excellence  ?  Can  these  men,  any  of 
them,  really  believe  in  the  Christian  religion,  which  places 
charity  at  the  top  of  the  Christian  virtues  r"  We  say  to  you 
without  hesitation,  all  this  bitterness  is  wrong,  cannot  be 
justified,  and  is  condemned  by  the  volume  about  which  they 
contend.  To  speak  the  truth  in  love  is  one  of  its  own 
injunctions.  But  recollect  that  even  the  best  of  men  are 
imperfect,  and  that  nothing  so  strongly  appeals  to  oui 
6* 


128  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

imperfections,  and  brings  them  into  such  activity,  as  contra- 
diction and  controversy.  It  is  not  true  to  say  there  is  more 
bitterness  in  theological  controversy,  than  in  any  other  kind 
— but  it  is  true  that  there  ought  to  be  less.  One  thing 
should  not  be  forgotten,  that  the  importance  of  the  subject 
naturally  renders  men  more  earnest  than  any  other,  and  that 
earnestness,  it  must  be  admitted,  too  generally  degenerates 
into  unseemly  violence  and  bitterness.  There  is  in  every 
human  heart,  however  morally  excellent  and  holy,  some  cor- 
ruption lying  underneath  its  excellencies,  which  by  contro- 
versy is  too  often  brought  to  the  surface,  just  as  the  sediment 
at  the  bottom  of  clear  water,  is  stirred  up  by  the  agitation 
of  the  vessel. 

3.  The  equal  mental  power  with  which  opposing  systems 
are  maintained,  is  to  a  mind  unskilled  in  dialectics,  and 
unable  to  detect  the  fallacies  which  lurk,  and  the  sophistries 
which  abound,  in  erroneous  ratiocination,  often  very  trying. 
It  is  admitted,  for  it  is  impossible  to  question  it,  that  great 
ability  is.  possessed  and  displayed  by  all  parties,  by  the  com- 
batants for  error  as  well  as  for  truth,  in  the  arena  of  religious 
strife.  And  who  can  wonder,  since  the  Father  of  lies  has 
perhaps  the  most  wonderful  intellect  in  the  universe,  next  to 
God  and  Christ.  In  contending  armies  upon  the  field  of 
battle,  equal  courage,  skill,  and  prowess,  are  often  displayed 
for  a  long  time  by  both  sides,  the  wrong  as  well  as  the  right ; 
and  a  spectator  of  the  awful  conflict  might  be  at  a  loss  to 
determine  whfch  would  gain  the  victory,  and  which  ought  to 
gain  it.  There  is  no  error  so  palpable  even  to  common  sense, 
but  what  may  be  defended  with  arguments  so  ingenious  as  to 
defy  ordinary  minds  in  the  attempt  to  detect  their  fallacies 
and  expose  their  sophistries.  Truth  is  often  with  the  weaker 
party ;    I   mean   weaker  in  the  use  of  dialectic   weapons. 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  129 

A   skilful   polemic   may   often    make    error   appear    more 
plausible  than  truth. 

4.  The  apparent  equality  of  moral  excellencies  in  the 
advocates  of  opposing  systems  of  opinions,  is  sometimes  per- 
plexing ;  and  in  some  cases,  even  a  superior  amiableness  may 
seem  to  be  with  those  who  advocate  error,  as  we  consider  it, 
to  those  who  contend  for  truth.  It  must  not  be  forgotten 
that  religious  truth  is  intended  to  produce  two  results,  love 
to  God  and  love  to  man.  In  other  words,  morality  and 
piety.  Remember  this,  and  it  is  of  vast  importance  you 
should  remember  it.  Penitence,  faith,  inward  holiness,  de- 
voutaess,  heavenliness,  are  all  parts  of  religion,  without 
which  the  fairest  morality,  and  most  beautiful  amiableness, 
are  in  the  sight  of  God,  nothing  worth  ;  and  will  be  found 
totally  unavailing  to  salvation.  There  may  be  much  general 
amiableness  without  an  atom  of  genuine  piety.  The  only 
true  standard  of  moral  excellence  is  the  Bible,  and  that 
places  God  before  us  as  the  first  object  of  regard.  Systems 
as  well  as  men  are  to  be  judged  of  by  their  fruits ;  but  then 
we  must  always  ask  what  kind  of  fruits  they  are  designed  to 
produce.  Bible  truths  must  produce  Bible  fruits,  and  these 
are  something  more  than  the  moralities,  amiabilities,  and 
courtesies  of  life,  valuable,  and  necessary,  and  important  as 
these  are. 

5.  The  present  unsettled  state  of  controversy  finishes  the 
perplexity.  It  would  seem  as  if  we  were  no  nearer  the 
adjustment  of  our  differences  than  ever.  The  sects  are  as 
numerous,  the  creeds  are  as  various  and  as  diverse,  and  the 
contests  as  eager  as  ever,  after  all  the  ratiocination  which 
has  been  employed,  and  the  volumes  which  have  been 
written  through  so  many  ages.  But  surely  this  should  not 
Skdd.  much  to  your  difficulty,  for  if  diversity  of  opinion  exist 


130  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

at  any  time,  it  may  be  expected  to  exist  at  all  times.  Men's 
minds  are  constituted  alike  in  all  ages,  and  may  be  expected 
to  diiTer  in  all  ages.  That  under  the  greater  prevalence  of  a 
more  earnest  piety,  and  the  establishment  of  sounder  canons 
of  criticism  and  interpretation,  aided  by  the  dispensations  of 
Providence,  and  a  more  copious  effusion  of  the  Holy  Spirit, 

greater  approximation  of  sects  and  opinions  will  take  place, 
may  no  doubt  be  expected ;  and  for  that  state  of  things  all 
should  devoutly  pray  and  hope. 

In  looking  at  this  prevalence  of  diversified  opinion,  and 
seemingly  endless  coutroversy,  let  us  inquire  if  while  admit- 
ting it  to  be  an  evil,  we  may  not  discover  some  good,  which 
by  the  ordering  of  Providence  will  not  be  and  even  now  is 
brought  out  from  it : 

Does  not  this  diversity  of  sects,  and  sharpness  of  contro- 
versy, effectually  tend  to  preserve  the  purity  of  the  sacred  text 
of  the  Bible  ?  Suppose  there  were  in  some  large  town  one 
public  reservoir,  from  which  all  the  inhabitants  drew  their 
supplies  of  water  ;  and  suppose  further,  there  were  some 
considerable  diversity  of  opinion  as  to  the  real  quality  and 
properties  of  the  water,  which  all,  however,  considered  to  be 
necessary;  would  they  not  all  watch  each  other  that  no 
liberty  whatever  was  taken  with  the  common  source,  to 
corrupt  it  by  infusing  into  it  anything  which  would  make  it 
more  agreeable  to  their  views  and  tastes,  or  to  diminish  the 
supply,  or  indeed  to  take  any  other  freedom  with  this 
common  benefit  ?  They  may  sometimes  dispute,  and  very 
sharply  too,  about  the  quality  of  the  water,  and  some  bad 
feeling  might  be  generated  in  the  course  of  their  disputes, 
but  still  their  natural  jealousies  would  make  them  jointly 
protectors  of  the  reservoir,  and  guardians  of  its  purity  and 
preservation.     Something  like  this  occurs  in  the  diversities 


PERPLEXITY    IN    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  131 

of  sects  ;  they  have  the  Bible  common  to  them  all,  and  on 
which  they  all  profess  to  be  founded.  They  differ  in  opinion 
as  to  its  contents,  but  then  this  very  difference  makes  them 
keep  a  sharp  look-out  upon  each  other,  to  see  that  none  of 
them  corrupt  the  text,  either  by  way  of  interpolation, 
emendation,  or  excision.  Such  attempts  indeed  in  earlier 
ages  have  been  made,  but  they  have  been  detected  and 
exposed.  Copies  multipled  by  millions,  in  various  languages, 
and  held  in  the  hands  of  various  churches  and  denominations 
prevent  this  now.  The  existence  of  sects  and  controversies 
guarantees  to  us  a  pure  and  uncorrupted  Bible^ 

Then  does  it  not  tend  to  make  the  Bible  more  examined 
and  thoroughly  searched  ?  How  little  is  this  book  explored 
in  Popish  countries,  where  differences  of  opinion  are  re- 
pressed and  controversy  forbidden  !  How  much  more  gold 
is  brought  up  in  California,  where  any  one  may  dig  and  ex 
plore  for  himself,  than  in  those  places  where  the  mines  are  a 
royal  monopoly,  and  none  may  dig  but  by  authority  !  What 
additions  are  made  to  the  stock  of  our  scriptuial  knowledge, 
where  the  stern  voice  of  the  Church  forbids  the  exercise  and 
right  of  private  judgment,  the  publication  of  individual  opinion, 
and  the  existence  and  maintenance  of  controversy.  Even  if 
error  by  this  means  could  be  shut  out,  how  much  of  truth  is 
excluded  with  it  .'*  How  little  as  compared  with  Protestant 
writers  have  Roman  Catholics  added  to  our  stores  of  Biblical 
knowledge  ? 

Has  not  God  overruled  the  zeal  of  party  for  the  spread  of 
his  cause  ?  Do  not  the  sects  quicken  each  other's  zeal  by 
the  power  of  rivalry  }  Is  not  this  the  case  both  at  home  and 
abroad  ?  I  acknowledge  that  in  this  zeal  there  is  an  infusion 
of  sectarianism,  and  so  far  it  is  a  corruption,  but  there  is 
nothing  absolutely  pure  in  our  world,  and  this  very  infusion 


132  THE    YOLNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

may  stimulate  the  efforts  of  the  zealot.  A  propagator  of 
Methodism  ;  or  Church  of  Englandism  ;  or  Presbjterianism  ; 
or  Baptism  ;  or  Independency  ;  may  be  stimulated  in  his 
efforts  to  spread  his  particular  opinions,  by  some  sectarianism  ; 
but  still  with  these  he  carries  something  more,  and  something 
better,  for  he  carries  with  him  the  gospel  of  salvation.  I 
have  no  doubt  that  sectarianism  does  add  something  to  our 
zeal  even  in  our  Home  and  Foreign  Missions,  and  so  far  may 
seem  to  corrupt  it ;  but  on  the  other  hand  it  prevents  us  from 
sinking  into  a  state  of  inertness  and  stagnancy.  The  Roman 
Church  tells  us  she  can  do  this  without  the  rivalry  of  sects. 
This  is  not  quite  true.  It  is  this  very  rivalry  which  has  in 
part  enabled  her  to  gain  her  wide  extent  and  dominion. 
Witness  her  various  orders,  and  especially  that  of  the 
Jusuits,  and  the  controversy  between  the  Jesuits  and  the 
Jansenists — between  her  various  orders  of  monks — and  her 
Gallican  and  Ultramontane  opinions. 

The  existence  of  this  diversity  gives  occasion  also — alas 
that  so  few  should  be  forward  to  avail  themselves  of  it, — 
for  manifesting  our  forbearance  towards  each  other ^  and 
bringing  into  exercise  that  "  charity  which  is  the  bond  of 
perfectness."  It  would  be  diflScult  to  say  which  would  be  the 
most  beautiful  spectacle,  a  church  uniform  in  opinion,  or 
somewhat  multiform  in  sentiment,  yet  maintaining  a  unity 
of  spirit  in  the  bond  of  peace. 

We  thus  see  that  some  good  may  be  brought  out  of  the 
evil  of  controversy  and  the  prevalence  of  sectarianism. 
The  entrance  of  moral  evil  into  God's  wise,  benevolent,  and 
holy  administration,  seemed  to  he  evil,  and  only  evil ;  yet  how 
has  God  overruled  it  for  a  brighter  and  completer  manifesta- 
tion of  his  character. 

Secondly.     I  shall   now  advert  to  the   wronor  methoda 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTRl  VERSY.  133 

which  some  adopt  to  relieve  themselves  of  the  perplexity 
occasioned  by  this  diversity.  In  some  cases  it  may  lead,  or 
tend  to  lead,  either  to  general  scepticism,  or  to  a  total  aban- 
donment of  all  religion,  under  a  despair  of  ever  finding  out 
the  truth.  Men  are  apt  to  say,  "  We  will  give  it  all  up,  for 
who  amidst  such  endless  diversity  can  hope  to  find  the  truth  ? 
But  is  this  rational  ?  Do  men  act  thus  in  other  matters 
about  which  much  diversity  prevails  ?  Do  they  give  up  poli- 
tics because  of  the  numerous  parties  into  which  on  that  con- 
troverted subject  men  are  divided  ?  Do  they  abandon  the 
subject  of  finance,  political  economy,  and  metaphysics,  on 
this  ground  ?  And  why  should  they  do  it  in  religion  ?  How 
many  have  found  out  what  they  conceive  to  be  the  truth,  and 
are  reposing  in  peace  upon  their  convictions  ?  And  why  may 
not  you  ?  Abjure  then  the  idea  of  abandoning  religion  on 
this  ground.  You  will  find  this  to  be  no  excuse  at  the  day 
of  judgment.  God  has  given  you  an  intellect  capable  of 
investigating  the  subject  and  will  hold  you  responsible  for 
the  exercise  of  it  in  this  particular.  Men  are  divided  in 
opinion  upon  food  and  medicine  ;  upon  the  best  means  of 
promoting  health  ;  and  will  you  therefore  give  up  all  care 
about  the  best  way  to  maintain  your  life,  health,  and  comfort } 
Truth  is  to  be  found  somewhere,  and  it  is  an  indolent  dis- 
position which  leads  us  to  give  up  the  pursuit,  because  we  do 
not  by  a  kind  of  intuition,  or  at  any  rate,  a  hasty  first  view  of 
the  subject,  know  what  it  is,  and  where  it  is  to  be  found. 
You  must  search  after  it.  Your  salvation  depends  upon 
your  finding  and  embracing  those  truths  with  which  it  is  con- 
nected.    Multitudes  have  found  it,  and  so  may  you. 

Some  few  persons,  unable  to  decide  upon  the  truth  as 
regards  doctrines^  have  contented  themselves  with  observing 
as  they  suppose,  the  'practical  parts  of  religion,  and  have 


134  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

relinquished  all  care  about  what  they  call  dogmas.  They 
have  attempted  to  construct  a  religion  which  is  irrespective 
of  the  peculiarities  of  sect  or  creed  ;  and  which  shall  consist 
wholly  of  moral  duties,  with  perhaps  a  few  exercises  of 
general  devotion.  This  is  deism.  It  is  true  they  thus  get 
rid  of  controversy,  but  at  the  same  time  they  get  rid  of 
Christianity  also.  The  Scriptures  are  set  aside  entirely,  and 
all  the  great  facts  and  truths  of  revelation  are  entirely  repu- 
diated. The  Bible  is  not  merely  a  code  of  morals  to  be 
obeyed  and  practised,  but  a  declaration  of  facts  and  truths  to 
be  believed.  Scripture  ethics  rest  on  Scripture  doctrines. 
Faith^  and  not  merely  practice^  is  the  demand  of  revelation. 
But  the  great  and  effectual  relief  from  the  perplexities  of 
controversy  is  supplied,  it  is  alleged,  by  Popery.  The 
Church  of  Rome  professes  that  it  is  itself,  by  its  doctrine 
and  discipline,  as  set  forth  in  its  councils,  canons,  and  creeds, 
a  living  perpetual  tribunal,  to  decide  all  matters  of  religious 
faith  and  practice,  and  thus  to  prevent  all  controversy.  All 
doctrines  are  settled  and  determined  for  its  members  by 
the  church,  as  the  authoritative  and  infallible  expounder  of 
the  truth.  This  is  the  lure  it  holds  forth  to  those  who  are 
without  its  pale  ;  who  are  perplexed  with  controversy,  and 
distracted  by  religious  strifes,  and  the  multitudes  of  religious 
sects — "  Come  with  us,  we  are  the  true  church,  possessing 
authority  and  infallibility  to  decide  upon  doctrine,  which  is 
thus  ready  provided  for  all  its  members,  without  the  labor 
of  inquiry,  the  pain  of  suspense,  the  disquietude  of  doubt, 
or  the  peril  of  mistake.  Receive  the  faith  of  the  church, 
and  believe  as  the  church  believes  ;  which  guarantees  your 
safety  in  all  that  you  receive  with  this  implicit  faith.  You 
will  thus  be  taken  out  of  the  divisions,  distractions,  and 
controversies  of  Protestantism,  and  find  rest  for  your  weary 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  13o 

sciul  in  the  lap  and  on  the  bosom  of  your  Holy  Mother,  the 
Church." 

This  is  somewhat  attractive  it  must  be  confessed,  and  if 
it  were  true  would  be  quite  satisfactory ;  but  it  is  awfully 
deceptive.  Where  in  the  Scripture  is  any  church  invested 
with  the  authority  to  be  a  living  umpire,  and  to  decide  all 
controversies  }  Where  is  there  any  allusion  to  such  a  tribu- 
nal }  Is  it  not  to  the  Scripture,  and  not  to  the  church,  we 
are  every  where  directed  for  settling  the  question,  "  What  is 
truth  .?" 

Even  if  the  church  were  this  living  tribunal,  we  contend 
that  the  Papacy  so  far  from  being  the  true  church,  is  an 
awful  apostacy,  and  repugnant  to  every  part  of  the  New 
Testament.  Instead  of  being  the  judge  of  truth,  it  is  a  false 
witness,  whose  testimony  is  a  compound  of  the  most  palpa- 
ble falsehoods,  and  soul-destroying  errors  ;  whose  continued 
voice  speaketh  lies  in  hypocrisy.  The  claim  of  the  Church 
of  Rome  to  infallibility,  which  is  the  basis  of  the  living 
tribunal,  is  repugnant  alike  to  reason,  to  Scripture,  and  to 
the  facts  of  her  own  history.  It  acknowledges  that  infalli- 
bility is  not  the  attribute  of  its  individual  members,  but 
only  of  the  collective  body,  assembled  in  a  General  Council. 
But  is  it  not  an  universal  law  of  logic,  that  what  is  in  the 
genus  must  be  in  the  species  }  If,  therefore,  the  collective 
body  is  infallible,  so  must  be  its  individual  members.  How 
can  a  collection  of  fallibles,  multiply  them  as  you  will, 
make  up  an  infallible  ?  Besides,  the  Church  of  Rome  is 
not  yet  decided,  and  never  has  been,  where  this  infallibility 
resides ;  whether  in  the  Pope  without  a  General  Council — - 
a  General  Council  without  a  Pope — or  a  Pope  and  a  General 
Council.  Thus  the  claim  is  repugnant  to  reason.  It  is 
equally  so  to  Scripture,  which  in  a  thousand  places  admits 


136  THK   TOITXG    man's    friend. 

the  liability  of  all  men  to  err  ;  except  such  as  are  under  a 
Divine  inspiration.  Nor  is  the  claim  less  contradictory  to  the 
history  of  Romanism,  which  declares  that  Pope  has  been 
against  Pope;  the  same  Pope  against  himself;  and  Council 
against  Council.  There  is  scarcely  a  doctrine  of  Popery 
which  has  not  been  the  subject  of  controversy  within  the 
bosom  of  the  Papal  community.  The  variations  of  Popery 
have  been  almost  as  numerous  as  those  of  Protestantism. 
Where  then  is  its  infallibility  ? 

The  claim  of  the  Church  of  Rome  to  be  this  living 
tribunal,  which  is  to  settle  once  for  all  and  for  every  body 
what  is  truth,  and  to  prevent  all  controversy  by  forbidding 
the  exercise  of  private  judgment,  is  in  direct  contradiction  to 
the  Word  of  God,  which  calls  upon  every  man  for  himself  to 
"search  the  Scriptures,"  "  to  prove  all  things,"  and  "  hold* 
fast  that  which  is  good." 

To  constitute  the  church  the  tribunal  which  is  to  decide  for 
us  what  is  truth,  without  our  examination  of  the  Scriptures 
for  ourselves,  is  to  make  all  its  members  believers  in  the 
church  rather  than  in  the  Word  of  God,  and  thus  to  put  the 
church  in  the  place  of  the  Bible  as  the  object  of  faith. 

This  method  of  deciding  controversies,  and  settling  the 
question  what  is  truth,  renders  the  Scriptures  all  but  useless 
for  the  people ;  and  therefore  is  very  consistent  with  the 
prohibited  indiscriminate  use  of  the  Scriptures  by  them. 

This  scheme  is  an  utter  degradation  of  man's  nature  as  a 
rational  being,  and  is  a  plan  never  adopted  in  reference  to 
any  thing  else.  Who  would  endure  such  a  method  of  deter- 
mining questions  of  literature,  science,  politics,  law,  or  art  ? 
Why,  therefore,  should  man's  own  inquiry  be  debarred  on 
the  most  momentous  of  all  topics,  and  he  be  exposed  to  the 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  137 

consequences  of  eternal  ruin  by  implicitly  trusting  to  the 
judgments  of  others  ? 

How  is  any  man  to  know  whether  he  really  believes  what 
the  church  believes,  and  all  it  believes  ?  Who  can  search 
the  numberless  folios  which  contain  the  faith  of  the  church, 
and  be  satisfied  that  he  has  not  omitted  something  which 
the  church  requires  of  him  ?  And  though  creeds  drawn  up 
by  Popes,  and  catechisms  and  manuals  by  learned  doctors 
and  eminent  bishops,  may  be  put  into  the  hands  of  the 
people,  yet  as  no  individual  man,  however  elevated,  even  the 
Pope  himself,  is  infallible,  how  is  any  one  to  be  satisfied  that 
there  is  no  error  in  these  compositions  ?  Besides,  as  no  one 
can  have  access  to  the  church  except  as  it  is  represented 
to  him  by  some  individual  priest,  who  is  in  the  place  of  both 
God  and  the  church  to  him  ;  how  can  any  one  be  sure,  since 
that  individual  priest  is  fallible,  but  that  he  may  err  in  the 
views  he  may  give  of  the  church's  doctrine  ? 

This  living  tribunal  by  suppressing  controversy  destroys 
liberty,  and  turns  the  whole  subject  of  religion  into  a  matter 
of  slavish  submission  to  human  authority.  And  with  liberty, 
piety  also  to  a  considerable  extent  expires.  The  dull  unifor- 
mity produced  by  the  compulsion  of  authority,  would  be  no 
compensation  for  the  loss  of  that  activity  and  spirit  which 
are  kept  alive  by  the  neighborhood  and  zeal  of  rival  sects. 
"  The  Gallican  Church  no  doubt  looked  upon  it  as  a  signal 
triumph  when  she  prevailed  upon  Louis  XIV.  to  repeal  the 
Edict  of  Nantes,  which  by  refusing  toleration  to  the  Huo-ue- 
nots,  suppressed  the  voice  of  controversy  and  the  existence  of 
sects.  But  what  was  the  consequence  }  Where  shall  we 
look  after  this  period,  for  her  Fenelons  and  her  Pascals  } 
Where  for  the  distinguished  monuments  of  piety  and  learn- 
ing, which  were  tlie  glory  of  her  better  days  }     x\s  for  piety, 


]38  TnE  YOUNG  man's  friend. 

she  perceived  she  had  no  occasion  for  it,  when  there  >-d3 
no  lustre  of  Christian  holiness  surrounding  her ;  nor  for 
learning,  when  she  had  no  longer  any  enemies  to  confute,  or 
any  controversies  to  maintain.  She  felt  herself  at  liberty 
to  become  as  ignorant,  as  secular,  as  irreligious  as  she 
pleased ;  and  amidst  the  silence  and  darkness  she  had 
created  around  her,  she  drew  the  curtains  and  retired  to  rest. 
The  accession  of  numbers  she  gained  by  suppressing  her 
opponents,  was  like  the  small  extension  of  length  a  body 
acquires  by  death  ;  the  feeble  remains  of  life  were  extinguish- 
ed, and  she  lay  a  putrid  corpse,  a  public  nuisance,  filling  the 
air  with  pestilential  exhalations."* 

Such  then  are  the  objections  to  a  living  and  infallible 
tribunal  for  the  decision  of  controversy,  as  claimed  by  the 
Church  of  Rome. 

But,  perhaps,  it  will  be  asked  whether  all  denominations 
do  not  put  forth  creeds,  articles,  and  catechisms,  which  they 
not  only  teach,  but  the  belief  of  which  is  required  by  their 
members.  Certainly,  as  acknowledged  symbols  of  their 
views  of  the  Word  of  God  ;  but  these  they  allow  every  man 
to  test  by  the  Scriptures,  and  to  reject  them  if  he  sees  fit. 
They  are  held  forth  to  guide,  but  not  to  compel.  They  are 
proposed^  but  not  imposed.  They  are  submitted  for  exami- 
nation and  instruction  to  the  judgment,  but  they  are  not 
made  to  bind  the  conscience. 

•  You  see  then,  young  men,  that  the  perplexities  of  contro- 
versy must  not  be  avoided  by  surrendering  up  your  judgment 
into  the  hands  of  priests  ;  but  you  are  to  employ  it  diligently 
for  yourselves  in  coming  to  a  conclusion  upon  the  various 
questions  which  divide  and  agitate  the  religious  world. 

Thirdly.     The  question,  however,  comes   back — What 
*  Robert  Hall  on  "  Zeal  without  Innovation." 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  139 

is  to  be  done  ?  How  is  the  mind  to  be  relieved  from  its  per- 
plexity in  listening  to  the  contradictory  views  which  reply 
to  the  question,  What  is  truth  ?  Is  an  inquirer  to  set  about 
to  read  and  study  the  religious  opinions  of  all  the  denomina- 
tions in  existence  ?  That  would  be  an  endless  and  needless 
labor.  It  would  be  a  useless  consumption  of  time,  and 
would  only  end  in  still  deeper  and  more  painful  perplexity. 
Take  the  case  of  any  other  book  than  the  Bible, — a  legal 
statute,  or  a  history,  or  any  other  document,  about  which  a 
great  diversity  of  interpretation  existed,  and  which  was  in 
your  own  hands,  would  you  in  order  to  know  its  true  mean- 
ing think  it  necessary  to  read  all  these  clashing  opinions  ? 
No  !  You  would  say,  "  I  will  read  and  study  the  document 
itself.  I  have  it  in  my  possession  in  the  vernacular  tongue, 
and  I  will  read  and  judge  for  myself."  Act  thus  in  reference 
to  the  Bible  and  religious  differences. 

1.  Study  the  Scriptures.  Search  the  Word  of  God  for 
yourselves.  Be  intimately  acquainted  with  your  Bibles, 
especially  the  New  Testament.  But  there  is  a  right  and  a 
wrong  way  of  doing  this.  The  exhortation  to  search  the 
Scriptures  is  expressive  of  a  particular  state  of  mind,  as  well 
as  of  an  outward  duty.  Carry  no  preconceived  nations  to  the 
Bible.,  with  which  it  is  your  previous  determination  to  make 
everything  square.  Read  the  Word  of  God  with  a  simple 
and  sincere  desire  to  know  its  real  meaning.  In  reading  the 
Scriptures  there  must  be  no  attempt  to  try  what,  by  the  aid 
of  a  perverted  ingenuity  and  a  previous  bias,  they  may  be 
made  to  say  ;  but  a  simple  desire  to  know  what  they  do  say. 
Read  with  entire  and  absolute  impartiality,  just  as  you  would 
the  prescription  of  a  physician  who  had  given  you  directions 
for  food  and  medicine,- to  restore  and  preserve  your  health. 
Let  there  be  a  humble  and  teachable  disposition.     ''  Receive 


140  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

with  meekness  the  ingrafted  word."  "  The  meek  will  h« 
guide  in  judgment,  the  meek  will  he  shew  his  way."  "  Ex- 
cept ye  be  converted,  and  become  as  little  children,  ye  shall 
in  no  case  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God."  And  whatever 
exercise  of  our  intellect  may  be  carried  on,  and  however  con- 
vinced we  may  be  that  the  intellect  must  be  exercised,  there 
should  be  associated  with  this  a  humble  and  wholesome 
distrust  of  our  own  understanding.  In  searching  the  Scrip- 
tures we  must  consider  their  design  as  well  as  their  meaning ; 
that  they  are  intended  not  only  to  communicate  knowledge, 
but  faith  and  holiness.  The  Bible  is  a  book  to  make  us 
wise  unto  salvation.  It  contains  a  "  doctrine  according  to 
godliness."  "  Sanctify  them  through  thy  truth,"  was  the 
prayer  of  Christ  for  his  disciples.  Divine  truth  is  intended 
to  produce  a  divine  life.  To  read  in  order  to  know,  or  to 
support  and  defend  a  system,  is  a  low  and  unworthy  end. 
To  search  the  Scriptures  aright,  yoti,  must  give  up  and 
abstain  from  all  sinful  indulgencies.  "  Laying  aside  all 
filthiness,  and  superfluity  of  naughtiness,  receive  with  meek- 
ness the  engrafted  word,"  is  the  injunction  of  the  apostle. 
The  lusts  of  the  mind, — the  pride  of  intellect,  the  love  of 
wealth,  thirst  after  human  applause,  as  well  as  the  lusts  of 
the  flesh,  impair  the  mental  vision,  and  smite  the  soul  with 
spiritual  blindness,  insomuch,  that  holy  truth,  however  plain, 
remains  undiscovered. 

There  is  another  disposition  to  be  carried  to  the  Scriptures 
in  our  perusal  of  them,  and  that  on  account  of  its  import- 
ance, I  place  by  itself,  that  it  might  be  very  conspicuously 
seen  as  seriously  considered,  and  as  vividly  and  practically 
remembered ;  I  mean  that  suggested  by  our  Lord,  where  he 
says,  "  If  any  man  will  do  his  (G-od's)'will,  he  shall  know  of 
the   doctrine   (which   I  speak)  whether  it    be  of  God,  or 


PERPLEXITf    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  141 

whether  I  speak  of  myself."  John  vii.  17.  A  real  obedi- 
ence to  the  will  of  God,  as  far  as  we  at  present  know  it, 
united  with  a  sincere  and  hearty  determination  to  do  it  in  all 
further  discoveries  of  it,  to  whatever  risks,  sacrifices,  and 
inconveniences  such  obedience  may  expose  us,  is  the  best 
way  of  coming  to  a  right  knowledge  of  the  truth.  We  must 
love  truth  not  only  for  its  own  sake,  but  for  its  holy  tendency 
and  effect :  and  he  that  is  most  anxious  to  obtain  holiness 
by  truth,  is  most  likely  to  know  truth  for  the  sake  of  holiness. 
Right  dispositions  are  the  way  to  obtain  right  opinions. 
Divine  truth,  unlike  scientific  knowledge,  is  intended,  as 
well  as  adapted  to  produce  moral  results,  and  if  we  are  not 
anxious  to  obtain  these,  we  are  not  likely  to  come  to  a  know- 
ledge of  the  truths  themselves. 

There  must  also  be  very  earnest  'prayer  for  the  teaching  of 
the  Holy  Spirit.  There  are  undoubtedly  some  things  in  the 
Bible  hard  to  be  understood  ;  but  in  what  pertains  to  salva- 
tion, all  is  as  clear  as  crystal.  But  if  there  be  light  in  the 
Bible,  there  is  darkness  in  us.  "  The  natural  man  receiveth 
not  the  things  of  the  Spirit  of  God^  for  they  are  foolishness 
unto  him  J  neither  can  he  know  them^  because  they  are  spirit- 
ually  discerned.''^  1  Cor.  ii.  14.  The  safe  and  proper,  and 
only  safe  and  proper  manner  of  approaching  the  heavenly 
oracle,  is  that  which  David  manifested,  when  he  thus  prayed, 
"  Open  thou  mine  eyes  that  I  might  behold  wondrous  things 
out  of  thy  law."  So,  also  the  Apostle  entreated  for  the 
Colossians,  "  We  do  not  cease  to  pray  for  you,  and  to  desire 
that  ye  might  be  filled  with  the  knowledge  of  his  will  in  all 
wisdom  and  spiritual  understanding,"  chap.  i.  9.  It  might 
not  strike  some,  that  although  we  have  the  book,  it  is  neces- 
sary in  addition  to  have  the  teaching  of  the  Author :  but  it 
it  were  not  absolutely  necessary,  yet  surely  this  would  bo 


142  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

considered  a  privilege,  even  as  regards  a  human  production. 
But  it  is  in  this  case  necessary.  How  powerful  is  the  influ- 
ence  of  our  inward  corruption  in  blinding  and  bewildering 
our  judgments  !  How  liable  are  we  to  err  !  How  momentous 
a  matter  is  it  on  which  to  mistake  !  How  numerous  and 
how  fatal  are  the  mistakes  that  are  made  !  Unless  there- 
fore, we  not  only  pray,  but  give  ourselves  to  prayer  for 
divine  illumination,  we  are  likely,  even  with  the  Bible  in  our 
hands  to  go  wrong.  That  the  Bible  may  be  mistaken,  and 
z-5,  no  one  can  doubt.  The  subject  of  this  sermon  proves  it. 
How  many  errors  are  in  the  world  on  the  subject  of  divine 
revelation. 

2.  As  your  safest  guide  amidst  the  diversities  of  religious 
opinion  which  exist,  and  as  the  best  mode  of  relieving  your 
mind  from  the  perplexity  occasioned  by  controversy,  acquire 
the  elements  of  decided  personal  godliness.  These  lie  with- 
in a  very  narrow  compass,  are  common  to  many  denomina- 
tions of  professing  Christians,  and  with  whatever  other 
sentiments  they  may  be  associated,  will  obtain  the  possession 
of  eternal  life.  Be  sure  to  be  right  on  great  and  funda- 
mental points.  Be  upon  the  foundation,  and  then  though 
you  are  a  little  off  the  perpendicular,  yet  you  will  not  fall. 
And  what  are  these  grand  essentials,  without  which  no  man 
can  be  saved,  and  with  which  every  man  will  be  saved, 
whatever  in  other  respects  may  be  his  creed  or  his  church  ? 
Repentance  towards  God, — faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ — and  evangelical  holiness.  I  do  not  mean  to 
say  that  these  constitute  all  that  God  has  revealed  and 
therefore  all  that  we  need  concern  ourselves  about.  By 
no  means.  There  are  innumerable  other  matters  which  are 
found  in  the  Word  of  God,  but  these  are  the  substance — the 
great  essentials  to  salvation.     Personal  godliness  is  the  great 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  143 

preservative  from  serious  error.  As  in  the  animal  economy 
there  are  certain  instincts  which  lead  the  irrational  creatures 
to  select  good  and  salubrious  food,  and  to  refuse  and  repel 
such  substances  as  are  noxious,  so  in  the  spiritual  economy 
there  is  something  analagous.  There  are  certain  sentiments 
and  systems  which  it  is  scarcely  necessary  to  prove  to  the 
spiritual  mind  that  they  are  false,  for  the  spiritual  taste 
pronounces  them  to  be  bad.  The  holy  life  within  refuses  and 
repels  them  at  once  as  repugnant  to  its  nature  ;  and  the 
stronger  and  healthier  that  life  is,  the  greater  is  the  force  of 
this  repugnance.  Hence  the  necessity,  not  only  of  our  being 
possessed  of  true  personal  godliness,  but  of  high  degrees  of 
it.  He  who  feels  all  the  vitalising  power  of  sound  doctrine 
in  making  him  holy,  heavenly,  and  happy,  will  be  in  some 
danger  of  mischief  from  other  doctrines,  and  feel  little  neces- 
sity to  inquire  into  other  sentiments.  The  man  who  finds 
his  strength  firm,  his  health  glowing,  his  spirits  buoyant,  his 
employment  easy,  by  means  of  good,  plain,  nutritious  food, 
will  have  no  need  to  study  the  various  systems  of  medicine 
and  dietetics.  He  may  let  physicians  wrangle  on,  without 
troubling  himself  about  their  conflicting  opinions.  So  the 
man  strong  in  faith,  lively  in  hope,  and  ardent  in  the  love  of 
God  and  man :  he  who  has  joy  and  peace  in  believing  :  he 
who  is  able  to  mortify  his  corruptions,  and  invigorate  his 
graces,  by  those  views  of  divine  truth,  which  he  has  gained, 
need  not  read  through  a  book  of  religious  denominations  to 
find  out  what  is  truth,  for  he  has  "  the  witness  in  himself." 
3.  It  would  be  of  material  service,  and  a  great  help  to 
you  in  deciding  for  yourself  in  matters  of  controversy  as  to 
what  is  truth,  to  gather  from  the  Scripture,  by  a  devout  and 
careful  perusal,  some  hroad  comprehensive  views  of  its  general 
purport  and  design,  in  reference  to  doctrine^  ceremony,  and 
7 


144  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

government.  Broad  and  general  views  on  any  subject 
greatly  assist  us  in  understanding  its  minuter  parts  and 
details. 

As  regards  what  is  usually  called  doctrines^  the  Scriptures 
every  where  assert  the  lapsed,  the  corrupt,  and  condemned 
state  of  human  nature  ;  in  other  words,  that  man  is  a  guilty 
and  unholy  creature,  who  has  fallen  from  his  original  state 
of  righteousness,  and  who  if  recovered  from  this  condition 
and  restored  to  the  favor  of  God,  must  be  saved  by  some 
aid  from  without :  that  the  design  of  the  incarnation  and 
death  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  is  to  effect  man's  redemption 
from  sin,  guilt,  or  death,  in  a  manner  harmonious  with  the 
perfections .  of  the  divine  character,  and  the  principles  of 
God's  moral  government ;  that  the  blessings  consequent  to 
man  upon  this  system  of  mediation,  are  pardon,  peace  and 
holiness  here,  and  eternal  life  hereafter  :  and  that  the  con- 
ditions on  which,  as  a  siTie  qua  noUj  and  not  as  a  meritorious 
cause,  these  blessings  are  bestowed — are  repentance  towards 
God,  and  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ — in  short,  the  union 
of  the  salvation  of  sinners,  and  of  the  manifested  glory  of 
God's  moral  character.  Now  this,  one  should  think,  must 
be  conceded  by  every  one  who  has  obtained  the  least  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Word  of  God.  What  a  guide  would 
these  views  prove  to  the  settlement  of  many  controversies  ! 
Through  what  labyrinths  of  opinion  would  these  first  princi- 
ples of  the  Christian  scheme  lead  you  in  safety  !  How  many 
details  would  they  include,  and  how  many  connected  doc- 
trines unfold,  and  establish,  or  render  necessary  !  Let  these 
then  be  deeply  rooted  in  your  mind  as  so  many  fundamental 
truths,  and  be  made  to  bear  on  all  the  controversies  of 
which  you  may  hear  or  read.  Bring  all  other  sentiments  to 
the  ordeal  of  this  question,  '  Do  they  profess  or  deny  the 


FERPLEXirY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  115 

corruption  of  human  nature  so  clearly  laid  down  in  the  Word 
of  Grod,  and  its  recovery  from  guilt  and  depravity  by  a 
system  of  mediation  through  Christ,  which  unites  the 
redemption  of  man  and  the  manifested  glory  of  God  ?" 

A  similar  general  reference  to  the  ceremonial  of  the  New 
Testament  will  help  you  to  settle  many  controversies  on  this 
subject.  You  cannot  possibly  read  the  Gospels  and  Epis- 
tles without  observing  the  contrast  presented  in  one  striking 
point  6f  view,  between  Judaism  and  Christianity — the 
former  exhibiting  so  much  that  was  ceremonial,  the  latter  so 
little  :  the  one  being  eminently  a  ritual  system,  the  other  no 
less  eminently  a  spiritual  one.  When  Christ  suffered  on 
Calvary,  and  expired  with  that  triumphant*  shout  "  It  is 
FINISHED,"  he  changed  the  whole  aspect  of  revealed  religion. 
On  one  side  of  the  cross  you  behold  the  Law,  with  its 
priests,  its  sacrifices,  and  its  rites,  retiring  from  sight ;  on 
the  other,  you  behold  the  Gospel,  with  its  simple  and  spirit- 
ual institutions,  coming  forward  into  view.  From  that  hour 
the  great  design  of  Christianity  was  to  form  a  character,  of 
which  a  new,  divine,  and  inward  life  should  be  the  animating 
soul,  and  holiness  in  all  its  branches  and  beauties,  be  the 
external  manifestation.  Christianity  was  intended,  if  not  to 
put  an  end  to  ritualism,  yet  so  to  subordinate  it  to  spiritual- 
ism, conscientiousness,  and  holy  love,  that  it  should  be  but 
as  the  fillet  round  the  brow,  or  the  bracelet  on  the  arm  of 
piety.  Christianity  has  left  us  nothing  but  baptism  and  the 
Lord's  supper  in  the  form  of  ceremony,  and  has  said  so 
little  even  about  these  as  to  lead  us  to  suppose  it  considers 
them  of  very  inferior  importance  to  what  is  moral  and 
spiritual.  Just  ask  the  question  again,  "  What  kind  of  reli- 
gion does  the  New  Testament  chiefly  design  to  teach,  a 
rituaf  or  a  spiritual  one  .?"     Here  again  you  will  be  furnished 


146  THE    YOUNG    MAN's    FRIEND. 

with  a  test  of  many  a  system.  Connected  with  ceremony^  is 
priesthood.  Observe  what  is  said  in  the  New  Testament 
about  this.  How  very  little  is  said  about  religious  officials 
or  functionaries  of  any  kind,  compared  with  what  is  said  of 
other  things.  Christ  is  our  Great  High  Priest,  and  all  real 
Christians  are  the  ^priesthood.  No  other  priest  is  mentioned. 
And  as  to  bishops,  pastors,  or  elders,  their  only  functions 
mentioned  are  teaching  and  ruling.  A  sacerdotal  order,  or 
sacerdotal  acts,  are  nowhere  referred  to.  It  nowhere  seems 
the  design  of  the  apostles  to  make  much  of  man,  and  to 
invest  him  with  domination  or  ghostly  authority  in  the 
church.  Even  they  disclaimed  being  lords  of  Grod's  heri- 
tage. 

So  again  with  regard  to  ecclesiastical  -polity^  it  will  be  well 
to  take  a  general  view  of  this  question,  as  furnished  by  the 
New  Testament.  I  say  the  New  Testament,  for  the  Old 
was  the  code  of  law  for  Judaism,  as  this  is  for  Christianity. 
It  would  be  no  more  proper  to  look  to  the  constitution  of  the 
Jewish  Theocracy  for  the  model  of  the  Christian  church, 
than  it  would  be  to  the  temple,  its  priests,  and  sacrifices,  and 
ceremonies,  for  the  regulations  of  Christian  worship.  The 
same  difference  is  observable  in  the  ecclesiastical  character  of 
Judaism  and  Christianity  as  is  evident  in  their  ceremonial. 
The  Divine  Author  of  our  religion  has  furnished  by  his  con- 
fession before  Pilate — "  My  kingdom  is  not  of  this  worW — ■ 
that  which  is  the  key  to  all  social  religion,  and  ecclesiastical 
organization.  The  elaboration,  complexity  and  secularity 
of  earthly  kingdoms  do  not  appertain  to  His  church,  of  which 
the  characteristics  are  simplicity  and  spirituality.  The  de- 
sign  of  church  government  is  not  so  much  the  conversion  of 
men's  souls,  as  the  fellowship,  edification,  and  comfort  of 
those  who  are  already  converted.     The  church   of  Christ 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTPvOVERSY.  147 

consisting  of  the  company  of  believers,  must  in  all  its  insti- 
tutes be  adapted  to  spiritual  men,  and  have  respect  to  their 
order,  harmony,  and  mutual  helpfulness.  It  has  nothing 
worldly  in  its  nature  or  design.  It  is  in  the  world,  but  not 
of  it.  The  more  spiritual  and  simple  a  scheme  of  ecclesi* 
astical  polity  is,  the  more  likely,  upon  this  general  principle 
now  laid  down,  does  it  seem  to  be  that  it  is  an  approximation 
to  that  set  up  by  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  The  more  clearly 
it  exhibits  the  church  as  a  separate  community,  like  the  Jews 
amidst  surrounding  nations,  dwelling  apart  by  itself,  governed 
by  its  own  laws,  animated  by  its  own  spirit,  and  pursuing  its 
own  objects,  the  more  does  it  accord  with  all  which  the  New 
Testament  teaches  us  on  this  subject. 

An  attention  to  these  general  aspects  of  divine  revelation 
will  greatly  assist  us  in  coming  to  a  conclusion  upon  most 
points  of  religious  controversy. 

4.  Having  made  up  your  minds,  upon  evidence,  as  to  what 
is  truth,  then  have  as  little  to  do  with  religious  controversy 
as  you  can.  Seek  a  practical  rather  than  a  polemical  reli- 
gion. Treat  it  rather  as  something  to  be  done  than  talked 
about.  Be  not  fond  of  disputation.  Be  no  religious  knight- 
errant,  running  a  tilt  against  every  one  who  differs  from  you. 
A  pugnacious  disposition,  whether  it  be  from  a  natural  com- 
bativeness  or  a  prevailing  vanity,  is  a  dangerous  thing  to 
piety,  which,  like  the  dew,  falls  only  in  a  still  atmosphere, 
and  lies  longest  in  the  shade.  Be  too  much  taken  up  with 
adding  "  to  your  faith  virtue,  and  to  virtue  knowledge,  and 
to  knowledge  temperance,  and  to  temperance  patience,  and 
to  patience  godliness,  and  to  godliness  brotherly  kindness, 
and  to  brotherly  kindness  charity,"  to  have  much  time  fo'r 
strife  and  contention. 

Let  it  be  your  great  concern  to  eat  of  the  Bread  of  Life, 


148  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

pure  and  unadulterated,  rather  than  mix  up  with  it  the  grit 
and  thorns  of  controversy ;  and  to  drink,  and  not  trouble 
and  foul,  the  clear  Water  of  Life.  Avoid  a  taste  for  curi- 
osity in  things  unrevealed — a  speculative  turn  concerning 
things  mysterious — and  a  distempered  zeal  for  what,  if  true, 
is  comparatively  little.  "  There  is,"  says  an  old  author,  '^  a 
kind  of  intemperance  in  most  of  us,  a  wild  and  irregular 
desire  to  make  things  more  or  less  than  they  are  in  them- 
selves, and  to  remove  them  well  nigh  out  of  sight  by  our 
additions  and  defalcations.  Few  there  are  who  can  be  con- 
tent with  truth,  and  settle  and  rest  in  it  as  it  appeareth  in 
that  nakedness  and  simplicity  in  which  it  was  first  brought 
forth  ;  but  men  are  ever  drawing  out  conclusions  of  their 
own,  spinning  out  and  weaving  speculations,  thin,  unsuitable, 
and  unfit  to  be  worn,  which  yet  they  glory  in  and  defend 
with  more  heat  and  animosity  than  they  do  that  truth  which 
is  necessary  and  by  itself  sufficient  without  this  art.  For 
these  are  creatures  of  our  own,  shaped  out  in  our  phantasie, 
and  so  drest  up  by  us  with  all  accurateness  and  curiosity  of 
diligence,  that  we  fall  at  last  in  love  with  them,  and  apply 
ourselves  to  them  with  that  closeness  and  adherency  which 
dulleth  and  taketh  oif  the  edge  of  our  affection  to  that  which 
is  most  necessary,  and  so  Icaveth  that  neglected  and  last  in 
our  thoughts,  which  is  main.  As  we  read  of  the  painter  who 
having  stretched  his  phansie  and  spent  the  force  of  hig 
imagination  in  drawing  Neptune  to  the  life,  could  not  raise 
his  after  thoughts  to  the  setting  forth  the  majesty  of 
Jupiter." 

Love  the  closet  of  devotion  more  than  the  arena  of  con- 
tention ;  study  the  Bible  more  than  the  volume  of  angry 
discussion  ;  and  seek  the  company  of  the  sons  of  peace, 
vather  than  association  with  those   who   say  "  we  are  for 


TERFLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  1  i'J 

*ar."  It  is  well  of  course,  to  make  yourselves  acquainted 
j/enerally  with  the  subjects  of  controversy,  especially  of  th« 
leading  controversies  of  the  day.  No  young  man,  for  in- 
stance, should  be  ignorant  of  the  great  principles  of  Evan- 
gelical truth  as  opposed  to  Rationalism  or  Unitarianism  ;  or 
of  Protestantism  and  Popery ;  in  all  their  range  and  bear- 
ing :  it  is  the  question  of  the  day,  and  in  order  to  contend 
earnestly  for  "  the  faith  once  delivered  to  the  saints,''  we 
mubt  know  what  the  faith  is,  and  both  how  it  is  assailed  and 
how  it  can  be  defended.  Every  man  should  know  what  he 
believes  and  why  he  believes  it ;  and  thus  "  be  able  to  give 
a  reason  with  meekness  and  fear  of  the  hope  that  is  in  him." 
He  should  take  his  side  and  valiantly  keep  it.  All  this  is 
proper  and  necessary,  but  this  is  a  different  thing  to  our 
reducing  religion  to  a  mere  matter  of  controversy.  How 
many  are  there  whose  whole  godliness  is  a  mere  contest  for 
a  creed,  or  a  church,  without  their  having  any  true  faith  in 
Christ,  or  their  being  members  of  the  church  which  he  hath 
purchased  with  his  blood.  What  multitudes  are  now  fierce 
for  Protestantism,  who  have  never  embraced  one  great  true 
Protestant  principle  with  their  whole  heart !  Oh  that  men 
were  but  more  anxious  to  practice  Christianity  than  contro- 
vert about  it.  That  they  were  as  zealous  for  holiness  as 
they  seem  to  be  for  truth,  and  to  imbibe  the  spirit  and  ex- 
hibit the  image  of  Christ  in  their  temper,  character,  and 
conduct,  as  they  are  to  embody  his  doctrines  in  their  creeds. 
Young  men,  be  ardent  lovers  of  the  truth,  diligent  seekers 
after  it,  constant  associates  with  it,  and  impassioned  admirers, 
valiant  defenders,  and  zealous  promoters  of  it ;  but  at  the 
same  time,  not  pugnacious,  restless,  bitter,  and  bigoted  dis- 
putants for  it. 

5.  Having  received  upon  satisfactory  evidence  the  system 


150  THE    YOUNG    MAn's  FRIEND. 

of  doctrine  which  you  believe  to  be  Scriptural,  do  not  allow 
your  convictions  to  be  shaken,  or  your  faith  to  be  staggered, 
on  account  of  any  difl&culties  with  which  it  may  seem  to  be 
attended  ;  nor  by  any  cavils  and  objections  brought  against 
it,  which  you  may  not  be  able  to  answer. 

It  is  of  great  importance  for  you  to  remember  that  there 
is  no  truth,  however  evident  and  certain  it  may  be,  against 
which  an  ingenious  and  dexterous  sophist  may  not  advance 
some  plausible  objections,  and  in  connexion  with  which,  its 
most  assured  believers  may  not  see  some  difficulties  they 
may  not  be  able  to  explain.  Mathematical  science  is  the 
only  department  of  human  inquiry  which  excludes  all  doubt 
and  difficulty.  Even  the  experimental  philosopher  some- 
times finds  many  difficulties  in  his  path  which  he  is  unable 
to  clear  up  ;  some  ultimate  laws  which  perplex  and  confound 
him  :  yet  there,  established  by  many  and  well-ascertained 
proofs,  is  the  baffling  fact.  What  course  does  the  philoso- 
pher now  take  ?  Does  he  disbelieve  his  experiments,  dis- 
credit the  testimony  of  his  senses,  reject  the  evidence  which 
has  come  before  him,  and  abandon  himself  to  scepticism  ? 
Certainly  not.  He  credits  his  proofs,  he  relies  upon  his  as- 
certained facts,  and  says,  "  I  am  puzzled,  I  see  a  difficulty 
which  I  cannot  yet  explain,  but  I  hold  fast  my  conviction  of 
the  truth  of  what  I  have  proved,  and  wait  for  further  light 
to  clear  up  what  is  now  dark.  I  cannot  forsake  and  give  up 
evidence,  because  of  some  yet  unexplored  difficulty,  and  thus 
relinquish  what  I  do  know  for  what  I  do  not  know."  Is  not 
this  perfectly  rational  ?  Entirely  philosophical  ?  In  this 
way  I  am  anxious  you  should  act  in  reference  to  religion,  its 
doctrines,  and  its  controversies.  Receive  whatever  truth 
revelation  makes  known,  and  because  it  makes  it  known,  no 
matter  with  what  difficulty  it  may  be  attended,  and  wait  foi 


) 


PERPLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  15 

further  light  to  enlighten  what  is  now  dark.  By  difficulty, 
I  mean  something  you  cannot  perfectly  understand  :  some- 
thing you  cannot  entirely  harmonize  with  your  own  notions ; 
something  you  cannot  make  quite  to  agree  with  some  other 
portions  of  divine  truth  ;  something  which  may  be  objected 
to  by  others,  whose  objections  you  feel  yourselves  in  some 
measure  unable  to  answer.  If  the  evidence  convinces  you, 
let  not  the  difficulty  confound  you,  or  shake  your  convic- 
tions. It  may  be  well  sometimes,  when  startled  and  per- 
plexed with  difficulty  on  one  side  of  a  question,  to  look  at 
the  difficulties  on  the  other  side.  Suppose  you  reject  a  doc- 
trine, or  a  system,  because  of  something  you  cannot  explain, 
would  .you  not  encounter  difficulties  far  more  formidable  in 
the  opposite  system  }  Have  you  not  more  evidence  and  less 
difficulty  on  the  side  you  have  taken,  than  you  would  find  if 
you  were  to  pass  over  to  the  other  side  }  There  is  a  one- 
sided way  of  looking  at  these  matters  which  is  carried  on  by 
some  people,  which  you  should  avoid.  In  very  many  cases, 
conviction  must  rest  upon  this  balance  of  evidence  and  diffi- 
culty. Each  side  has  both  some  apparent  proof  and  some 
objection,  and  our  business  is  to  determine  which  has  most 
of  the  former,  and  less  of  the  latter.  I  cannot,  therefore, 
give  you  a  more  important  piece  of  advice  than  this, — never 
abandon  evidence  to  follow  difficulty,  for  it  is  like  turning 
away  from  a  lantern,  somewhat  dim  it  may  be,  but  still  a 
steady  light  ;  or  from  the  moon,  in  a  mist  perhaps ;  to  run 
after  an  ignis  fatuus.  And  at  the  same  time,  do  not  allow 
yourselves  to  be  driven  from  your  convictions,  because  you 
cannot  refute  all  the  arguments,  or  remove  all  the  difficulties, 
or  meet  all  the  objections,  which  may  be  brought  against 
"them.  There  are  men,  I  repeat,  of  such  subtle  minds,  of 
such  logical  power,  and  so  clever  in  argument,  as  to  maka 


152  THE  YOUNG  man's  FRIEND. 

the  worse  appear  the  better  cause  ;  who  can  by  fallacy  and 
sophistry  sustain  the  most  palpable  error,  and  make  that 
truth  appear  doubtful  which  has  to  you  the  luminousness  of 
the  sun.  Never  be  ashamed  to  say  to  such  an  opponent, 
^'  I  cannot  refute  your  arguments,  nor  meet  your  objections, 
but  I  am  unmoved  by  them."  And  here  I  would  reiterate 
the  advice  I  have  already  given, — Avoid  controversy.  Hav- 
ing found  what  you  believe  to  be  truth — believe  it — love  it 
— enjoy  it — practise  it — but  do  not  be  eager  to  dispute 
about  it. 

6.  Whatever  may  be  your  convictions  of  the  truth  of  the 
religious  opinions  you  have  embraced,  cultivate  with  a  love 
of  truth,  a  spirit  of  charity.  There  is  a  medium  which  it 
should  be  your  anxiety  to  discover  between  indifference  to 
truth  and  a  distempered  zeal  for  it :  between  latitudinarianism 
on  the  one  hand,  and  bigotry  on  the  other.  There  are  some 
who  make  truth  every  thing  in  religion,  others  who  make  it 
nothing  :  the  former  are  the  advocates  of  an  unsanctified 
orthodoxy — the  latter  of  an  equally  unsanctified  charity  :  the 
one  are  the  worshippers  of  a  creed — the  other,  the  icono- 
clasts of  all  creeds :  the  former  say.  No  matter  how  well  a 
man  acts,  if  he  does  not  hold  these  opinions — the  others 
reply.  It  is  no  matter  what  opinions  he  holds,  provided  he 
acts  well.  Both  are  wrong.  There  can  be  no  right  belief 
of  the  truth  which  does  not  lead  to  holiness :  and  there  can 
be  no  holiness  which  does  not  spring  from  right  belief  of  the 
truth.  Be  you,  therefore,  an  advocate  for  truth,  for  error  is 
sin.  Error  cannot  sanctify.  If  a  man  may  disbelieve  one 
truth,  and  be  innocent,  he  may  disbelieve  two  ;  if  two,  ten, 
if  ten,  half  the  Bible  ;  if  half  the  Bible,  the  whole.  Affect 
no  false  candor,  no  spurious  charity,  as  if  all  sentiments 
were  equally  unimportant      This  is  treason  against  truth, 


PERPLEXITY    OF   RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  153 

and  the  God  of  truth.  Let  not  all  the  various  sects,  and 
denominations,  and  creeds,  appear  in  your  eye  only  as  so 
many  beautiful  colors  of  the  rainbow.  It  is  a  false  and  bad 
figure,  and  is  the  very  germ  of  infidelity.  But,  at  the  same 
time,  guard  against  the  opposite  extreme  of  a  want  of  charity 
towards  those  who  differ  from  you.  It  is  not  your  business, 
or  mine,  to  fix  that  boundary-line  of  religious  opinion  which 
divides  those  who  will  be  saved  from  those  who  will  be  lost- 
The  Church  of  Rome,  with  an  insufferable  arrogance,  and  a 
daring  invasion  of  the  prerogative  of  heaven,  has  fixed  that 
line  in  her  communion.  Imitate  not  this  impious  assump- 
tion. And  while  you  avoid  this  highest  of  all  pretensions, 
of  determining  who  shall  or  shall  not  be  admitted  to  the 
kingdom  of  heaven,  guard  against  the  lesser  mischiefs  of 
controversy  ;  I  mean  that  bitterness  of  spirit,  and  exclusive- 
ncss  of  feeling,  which  we  are  but  too  apt  to  cherish  towards 
those  who  in  lesser  matters  differ  from  us.  Charity  is  as 
much  a  part  of  truth  as  doctrine.  No  man  believes  the 
Bible  who  rejects  charity.  The  want  of  charity  is  as  truly 
a  heresy  as  a  disbelief  in  the  divinity  of  Christ.  The  want 
of  charity  will  as  certainly  exclude  a  man  from  heaven,  as 
the  want  of  faith.  "  Now  abide  faith,  hope,  charity,  these 
three ;  but  the  greatest  of  these  is  charity."  With  on© 
hand,  lay  hoid  of  faith  ;  with  the  other,  lay  hold  of  charity 
— then,  and  then  only,  may  you  cherish  hope. 

And  now,  Young  Men,  let  me  endeavor  at  any  rate,  to 
impress  upon  you  the  infinitely,  eternally,  and  therefore  inef- 
fably and  inconceivably  momentous  nature  of  that  subject 
about  which  all  these  controversies  are  carried  on.  Oh,  what 
uterests  and  what  issues,  beyond  the  compass  and  the  power 
of  any  mind,  but  that  which  is  infinite,  to  grasp,  are  com- 
prehended in  that  one  word.  Religion  '.  Science,  art,  lite* 
7* 


154  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

rature,  politics,  law,  medicine,  all  appertain  to  time,  to  earth,  || 

to  the  body  ;  but  religion  relates  to  the  soul,  to  heaven,  to 
eternity.  What  are  all  the  questions  which  have  been  asked, 
the  parties  that  have  been  formed,  the  controversies  which 
have  been  carried  on,  in  reference  to  the  former  of  these 
subjects,  but  matters  of  a  momentary  interest  and  trifles 
light  as  air,  compared  with  the  latter.  Of  what  importance 
are  all  the  questions,  the  sects,  the  parties,  the  controversies, 
of  an  earthly  nature,  to  "  the  congregation  of  the  dead," 
the  inhabitants  of  the  unseen  world — the  spirits  of  just  men 
made*  perfect — or  the  lost  souls  in  prison  ?  What  will  they 
all  be  to  you  a  few  years  hence  :  what  may  they  be  to  you 
next  week  ?  But  the  great  controversy  about  religion  has 
interest  in  all  three  worlds — heaven — earth — and  hell — and 
will  extend  that  influence  through  all  eternity.  This  is  a 
controversy  in  which  you,  each  one  of  you,  are  personally 
interested.  It  involves  your  eternal  destiny,  and  will  be  a 
matter  of  infinite  moment  to  you  millions  and  millions  of 
ages  hence.  Surely,  surely,  this  consideration,  if  anything 
can  do  it,  will  throw  over  your  mind  an  air  of  deep  and 
solemn  seriousness.  The  levity  and  the  frivolity  you  carry 
to  other  questions ;  the  carelessness  and  half-heartedness 
with  which  you  regard  other  controversies,  must  be  checked 
here.  With  a  mind  looking  up  into  heaven,  down  into  the 
bottomless  pit,  and  abroad  upon  eternity,  you  must  ask  the 
question,  ''  What  is  truth  ?"  and  with  a  recollection  that 
your  torment  or  your  happiness  for  ever  and  ever  will  be 
influenced  by  the  answer  you  decide  upon  amidst  all  those 
which  are  returned  from  so  many  quarters.  Oh,  could  yoa 
enter  thus  seriously,  and  anxiously,  and  prayerfully  into  the 
subject,  there  would  be  little  danger  of  your  ^oing  wrong  on 
this  momentous  topic. 


PERPLIXITT    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  155 

Still  you  must  expect,  notwithstanding  all  your  solicitude, 
to  be  the  subject  of  some  perplexity,  as  long  as  you  are  an 
inhabitant  of  this  world.  Be  thankful,  however,  that  what 
is  essential  to  salvation,  is  so  plain,  that  he  that  runs  may 
read.  Repent,  believe,  love,  be  holy  :  Is  there  any 
mystery '  here  ?  How  many  sects  agree  in  this  !  Of  how 
many  creeds  is  this  the  essence  !  How  much  of  the  strife  of 
controversy  lies  outside  of  this  circle  !  How  many  minor 
truths  a  man  may  not  believe,  and  yet  be  saved,  if  he  believe 
these  great  fundamentals.  How  many  lesser  errors  he  may 
have  unhappily  embraced,  and  yet  not  be  lost,  if  he  is  in  no 
error  here  !  He  that  keeps  his  eye  upon  the  pole-star  and 
the  greater  constellations,  will  steer  his  vessel  safely,  though 
he  may  not  be  intimately  acquainted  with  the  stars  of  lesser 
magnitude  and  brilliancy. 

To  adopt,  in  conclusion,  the  directions  and  words  of 
Saurin  :  "Buy  the  truth,  which  requires  the  sacrifice  of 
dissipation — of  indolence — of  precipitancy — of  prejudice — 
of  obstinacy — of  curiosity — of  the  passions.  We  comprise 
the  matter  in  seven  precepts : 

"  Be  attentive. 

"  Do  not  be  discouraged  by  labor. 

"  Suspend  your  judgment.  -r 

"  Let  prejudice  yield  to  reason. 

"  Be  teachable. 

"  Bcstrain  your  avidity  of  knowing. 

"  In  order  to  edify  your  mind,  subdue  your  heart." 

But  what !  Shall  we  always  live  in  shades  and  grope  in 
darkness  ?  Will  there  always  be  a  veil  between  the  porch 
and  the  sanctuary  }  Will  God  always  lead  us  amidst  chasm  a 
and  gulphs  }     Shall  we  ever  dwell  near  the  battle-field  of 


156  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

religious  controversy,  and  be  within  sound  of  its  artillery 
and  the  range  of  its  shot  ?  Shall  we  always  hear  the  con- 
fused noise  of  the  warrior,  and  the  cry  of  defeat  mingling 
with  the  shouts  of  victory  ?  Shall  we  always  have  to  struggle 
with  argument  from  without,  and  with  doubt  and  suspense 
within  ?  0,  no.  Presently  this  night  of  our  ignorance, 
this  dark  night,  will  end,  and  we  shall  enter  into  that  blessed 
world,  where  there  is  no  need  of  the  sun,  because  the  Lamb 
is  the  light  thereof.  In  heaven  we  shall  know  all  things  by 
a  blessed  intuition.  We  shall  repose  around  the  fountain  of 
celestial  radiance,  where  neither  the  sound  of  controversy, 
nor  the  din  of  arms,  will  be  ever  heard.  In  heaven,  wo 
shall  understand  all  mysteries  in  nature,  providence,  grace, 
and  glory.  All  difficulties  will  be  solved.  All  objections 
will  be  silenced..  How  will  this  perfect  light  fill  us  with 
perfect  joy.  How  delightful  will  it  be  to  drink  knowledge 
for  ever  from  its  divine  source,  with  the  perfect  assurance, 
it  is  pure  from  any  admixture  of  error.  How  blissful  thus 
to  spend  eternity.  "  This  is  the  revelation  of  God  to  us, 
and  there  is  not  in  religion  a  more  joyful  and  triumphant 
consideration  than  this  perpetual  progress  which  the  soul 
makes  in  the  perfection  of  its  nature,  without  ever  arriving 
at<in  ultimate  period.  Here  truth  has  the  advantage  of 
fable.  No  fiction,  however  bold,  presents  to  us  a  conception 
so  elevating  and  astonishing  as  this  interminable  line  of 
heavenly  excellence.  To  look  upon  the  glorified  spirit,  as 
going  on  from  strength  to  strength  ;  adding  virtue  to  virtue, 
and  knowledge  to  knowledge  ;  making  approaches  to  good- 
ness which  is  infinite  ;  for  ever  adorning  the  heavens  with 
new  beauties,  and  brightening  in  the  splendors  of  moral 
glory,  through  all  the  ages  of  eternity — has  something  in  it 


PERrLEXITY    OF    RELIGIOUS    CONTROVERSY.  157 

SO   transcendaat  and   ineffable,  as  to  satisfy  the   most  un- 
bounded ambition  of  an  immortal  mind." 

Young  Men — have  you  this  ambition  ?  If  not,  take  it  up 
from  this  moment — it  is  the  noblest  which  God  can  inspire, 
or  the  ^f^man  bosom  receive. 


THE  CHARACTER  OF  JOSEPH  A  STUDY  FOB 
YOUTH. 


*•  How  can  I  do  this  great  wickedness  and  sin  against  God." 

Genesis  xxxix.  9. 

The  Bibie,  viewed  apart  from  its  highest  character  as  a 
revelation  of  divine,  eternal,  and  immutable  truth,  and  from 
its  design  as  intended  to  make  men  "  wise  unto  salvation," 
is  the  most  instructive,  entertaining,  and  interesting  volume 
of  the  world,  uniting  as  it  does,  every  species  of  writing,  every 
variety  of  subject,  and  every  style  of  composition.  Hence 
the  testimony  of  Sir  William  Jones,  a  man,  who  by  the 
exertion  of  rare  intellectual  talents  acquired  a  knowledge 
of  arts,  sciences,  and  languages  which  has  seldom  been 
equalled,  and  scarcely,  if  ever,  surpassed.  "  I  have  carefully 
and  regularly  perused  the  Scriptures,"  says  this  truly  great 
man,  "  and  am  of  opinion  that  this  volume,  independent  of 
its  Divine  origin,  contains  more  sublimity,  purer  morality, 
more  important  history,  and  finer  strains  of  eloquence,  than 
can  be  collected  from  all  other  books  in  whatever  language 
they  may  have  been  written."  Such  a  testimony,  borne  by 
ft  scholar  who  was  intimately  acquainted  with  twenty-eight 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  loS 

different  languages  and  with  the  best  works  which  had  been 
published  in  most  of  them,  deserves  attention,  and  must 
carry  weight  with  every  considerate  mind. 

The  page  of  holy  writ  on  which  we  open  this  evening 
justifies  the  eulogy  we  have  just  read  :  for  where  is  the  judge 
of  literary  composition,  who  will  not  pronounce  the  history 
of  Joseph  to  be  one  of  the  most  exquisitely  pathetic  narra- 
tives ever  written  ? 

Before  I  proceed  to  enter  upon  the  character  of  Joseph, 
I  will  point  out  what  appears  to  me  to  be,  next  to  the  exhi- 
bition of  a  splendid  example  of  human  excellence,  the 
design  of  God  in  preserving  his  deeply  interesting  and  event- 
ful history.  This  narrative  is  a  representation  of  Providence 
in  miniature.  Here  we  see  God  working  out  his  wise  and 
benevolent  schemes,  by  means  and  instruments  the  most 
varied,  the  most  unlikely,  and  seemingly  the  most  opposite  ; 
and  by  a  series  of  events,  which  as  they  arise  singly  and 
separately,  appear  to  favor  the  designs  of  the  bad  and  to 
oppress  the  interests  of  the  good ;  but  which  by  a  most 
mysterious  connection  and  operation  are  all  made  to  terminate 
on  the  side  of  virtue  and  piety.  Here  on  a  small  scale,  we 
see  a  wonderful  and  complicated  mechanism  setting  in  motion 
those  numerous  wheels,  which,  moving  in  opposite  directions, 
are  all  made  to  subserve  one  wise  and  holy  purpose,  and  thus 
to  furnish  an  historical  and  beautiful  illustration  of  the 
reconcilinoj  declaration,  that  "  All  thinsrs  work  together  for 
good  to  them  that  love  God."  In  many  parts  of  Scripture 
we  hear  Providence  speakings  but  here  we  see  it  acting  , 
and  making  evil,  without  altering  its  nature  or  excusing  its 
agents,  to  subserve  the  good.  Here  we  see  that  though 
truth  and  holiness  for  awhile  may  be  trodden  down  by  the 
iron  heel  of  falsehood,  vice,  and  power,  they  shall  at  length 


IGO  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

lift  up  the  head  with  joj,  and  be  crowned  with  glory  and 
honor. 

But  we  now  take  up  the  other  purpose  of  this  beautiful 
narrative — and  that  is,  to  exhibit  for  our  admiration  and 
imitation  an  extraordinary  pattern  of  human  excellence. 
Much  of  the  Bible  is  historical  and  biographical.  It  is  a 
gallery  of  portraits,  both  of  good  and  bad  men  ;  some  merely 
sketched  in  outline ;  others  painted  in  miniature  ;  and  some 
drawn  at  full  length.  This  makes  the  Scriptures  at  once 
interesting  and  instructive.  We  see  sin  in  living  shapes — 
depraved — leprous — beastly — diabolical,  and  learn  to  hate  it. 
We  see  holiness,  fair  and  beautiful,  though  by  no  meana 
perfectly  angelical  and  heavenly,  and  we  are  by  such  examples 
taught  to  love  it,  and  helped  to  acquire  it. 

Let  us  then  now  contemplate  the  character  of  Joseph. 
It  is  not  my  intention,  for  it  is  not  in  my  power  in  a  single 
discourse,  to  enter  very  much  at  length  into  the  details  of  his 
touching  history.  I  must  take  for  granted  your  acquaintance 
with  this  ;  and  can  do  nothing  more  than  give  you  so  much 
of  the  narrative  as  shall  help  you  in  studying  his  character. 

And  first  of  all  let  us  look  at  Joseph  in  that  situatioik 
where  the  germ  of  all  his  future  excellences  began  to 
develope, — I  mean  his  father's  house  :  for  it  is  unquestion- 
ably true,  and  of  great  importance  for  all  parties  to  consider, 
that  the  rudiments  of  character  are  formed  in  early  life,  and 
at  home.  It  is  usually  then  and  there  those  seeds  of  good 
or  evil  are  sown  which  bear  in  future  years  their  appro- 
priate fruits.  He  was  the  favorite  child  of  his  father,  who 
in  a  manner,  most  injudicious  in  itself,  most  dangerous  to 
to  the  object  of  his  preference,  and  most  destructive  of  big 
own  peace,  displayed  his  partiality  by  "  the  coat  of  many 
colors,"  and  other  marks  of  parental  distinction.      This  par- 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  161 

tiality,  though  unwisely  manifested,  was  grounded  in  part  on 
Joseph's  exemplary  conduct.  He  was  a  most  dutiful  son 
and  one  that  feared  God ;  but  at  the  same  time  he  was  the 
object  of  hatred  and  envy  to  his  brethren.  This  was  caused 
partly  by  his  father's  partiality,  partly  by  his  artless  sim- 
plicity, not  perhaps  untinctured  by  a  vanity  which  had  been 
inflated  by  indulgence,  in  relating  his  dreams  ;  partly  by  the 
information  which  he  gave  of  the  misconduct  of  his  brothers  ; 
for  all  these  things  tended,  doubtless,  to  increase  and  exas- 
perate their  ill-will ;  but  the  enmity  was  produced  chiefly 
by  his  good  conduct  and  blameless  character.  They  hated 
him  because  "  their  own  deeds  were  evil  and  their  brother's 
righteous."  It  was  the  enmity  of  the  wicked  towards  the 
good.  He  was  their  constant  reprover,  by  the  silent  re- 
proach of  his  holy  example.  There,  beneath  the  tent  of  the 
patriarch  of  Canaan,  in  Joseph's  seventeenth  year,  were  laid, 
in  his  filial  piety  and  his  true  religion,  the  foundations  of 
that  noble  and  lofty  character  which  all  nations  and  ages 
have  delighted  to  contemplate.  I  know  few  situations  more 
trying  in  themselves,  or  which  require  more  firmness,  humility, 
meekness,  wisdom,  and  caution,  than  that  of  a  pious  and 
dutiful  child,  loved  by  his  parents  on  account  of  his  excel- 
lence of  character,  and  at  the  same  time  surrounded  by 
brothers  of  an  opposite  description.  If  any  of  you  are  in 
that  situation,  pray  earnestly  to  God  to  make  his  grace  sufii- 
cient  for  you. 

With  the  murderous  conspiracy  of  his  cruel  and  unnatural 
brotliers  you  are  well  acquainted.  I  shall  draw  no  pictures 
of  Joseph's  cries  and  entreaties,  when  like  a  lamb  in  the 
midst  of  a  company  of  hungry  wolves,  he  was  seized  by  his 
brothers  and  cast  into  a  pit  to  be  left  to  starve  ;  but  I  will 
Cor  one  moment  suggest  how,  in  that  horrible  situation  lio 


162 

must  have  been  sustained  and  comforted  by  the  religion  ha 
had  learnt  at  home  ;  and  what  else  could  meet  the  case  ? 
What  a  situation  for  one  who  had  never  till  now  been  from 
beneath  the  protection  of  paternal  care  and  tenderness , 
whose  face  "  the  wind  of  heaven "  had  never,  hitherto, 
visited  too  roughly ;  whose  spirit  mortification  had  never 
galled ;  whose  heart  affliction  had  never  yet  pierced.  But 
his  gracious  God  and  his  easy  conscience  were  with  him 
there ;  and  in  those  mournful  and  desolate  circumstances  he 
found  that  he  was  not  alone.  0  religion  !  thou  divine  and 
seraphic  companion  and  comforter,  thou  wilt  never  leave  us 
however  forlorn  our  condition  or  gloomy  our  prospects. 

I  also  pass  by  the  successful  intercession  of  Judah  for  his 
life,  and  the  providential  arrival  of  the  Arabian  caravan,  and 
follow  Joseph  down  into  Egypt  to  witness  his  conduct  as  a 
servant  in  the  house  of  Potiphar,  to  whom  he  was  sold  as  a 
slave.  Instead  of  cursing  his  lot,  yielding  to  sullen  despon- 
dency, and  making  Potiphar  angry  and  wrathful  by  his  hope- 
less and  paralysing  misery,  he  by  the  power  of  religion 
accommodated  himself  to  his  circumstances,  and  applied  all 
his  faculties  to  serve  his  master,  to  secure  his  confidence, 
and  conciliate  his  kindness.  And  he  was  successful.  You 
see  how  wise  it  is,  instead  of  giving  up  all  for  lost  in  unfavor- 
able circumstances,  and  sinking  into  absolute  despair,  to 
resolve  by  God's  blessing  to  do  all  we  can  to  improve  our 
condition  Learn,  young  man,  to  bear  up  with  patience,  for- 
titude, and  hope,  against  adverse  circumstances.  It  ia 
always  too  soon  to  despair  in  this  world.  It  was  an  old 
Greek  proverb,  "  "VVe  ascend  downwards."  And  in  Bunyan's 
inimitable  allegory,  the  "  Valley  of  Humiliation"  lay  in  the 
direct  road  to  exaltation.  If  by  any  course  you  are  brought 
into  a  less  favorable  situation  than  you  have  been  accustomed 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSErH.  163 

to  occupy,  go  diligently  and  cheerfully  to  work,  and  deter- 
mine by  God's  grace  to  make  even  this  bitter  experience 
subservient  to  your  future  welfare.  It  may  be  necessary  to 
prepare  you  for  something  higher  and  better.  Never  aban- 
don hope.  The  mainspring  of  exertion  is  broken  when  this 
is  gone. 

Joseph's  conduct  in  the  house  of  Potiphar  was  so  exem- 
plary for  diligence  and  fidelity,  that  it  drew  upon  him  first  of 
all,  the  favor  of  God,  and  next,  the  esteem  of  man,  for  he 
was  soon  advanced  to  a  high  place  of  trust  and  honor  in  the 
establishment  of  his  master ;  the  reason  of  whose  conduct 
in  thus  promoting  his  Hebrew  slave  is  given  by  the  historian 
in  the  following  words  :  "  He  saw  that  the  Lord  was  with  him, 
and  the  Lord  made  all  that  he  did  to  prosper  in  his  hand." 
Here  is  one  of  the  ten  thousand  instances  which  corroborate 
the  declaration  of  the  apostle,  that  Godliness  is  profitable 
for  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  and 
of  that  which  is  to  come."  True  piety  is  the  parent  of 
every  virtue  which  is  either  useful  to  man  or  pleasing  to  God  ; 
and  when  confirmed  and  illustrated  by  a  faithful  life,  is  the 
best  recommendation  a  youth  can  offer  to  one  whose  confi- 
dence he  wishes  to  secure.  Few  men  are  so  blind  to  their 
own  interest  as  not  to  know  the  value  and  to  appreciate  the 
services  of  an  able,  diligent,  and  faithful  servant,  and  rarely 
does  it  happen  that  such  a  servant,  where  there  is  room  for 
it,  is  not  promoted.  Depend  upon  it,  there  is  a  buoyancy  in 
talent  and  virtue  which  will  make  them  rise  to  the  surface. 
*'  Seest  thou,"  says  Solomon,  "  a  man  diligent  in  business,  he 
shall  stand  before  kings."  "  I,"  said  Benjamin  Franklin," 
"  can  attest  the  truth  of  that,  for  I  have  transacted  with  five 
monarchs  in  my  time."  It  was  as  a  servant  that  Franklin 
commenced  his  wonderful  career,  and  by  the  fidelity  and 


164  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

diligence  he  displayed  in  that  capacity,  he  laid  the  foundations 
of  his  future  fame.  Innumerable  instances  have  occurred  of 
eminent  and  excellent  servants  becoming  partners  and  pro- 
prietors of  the  establishments  in  which  they  once  acted  in  a 
very  subordinate  capacity. 

In  the  sermon  upon  "  Entering  on  Life,"  I  reminded  you, 
that  sincere,  heartfelt,  and  very  decided  piety  is  necessary 
to  prepare  for  those  sudden,  violent,  and  unexpected  temp- 
tations which  often  beset  the  young  traveller  on  life's  event- 
ful journey ;  especially  in  circumstances  of  promotion  and 
prosperity.  Joseph  soon  experienced  the  truth  of  this.  He 
was,  we  are  informed,  a  young  man  of  such  personal  appear- 
ance as  was  likely  to  attract  the  attention  and  excite  the 
passions  of  an  unprincipled  and  flagitious  woman.  Beauty 
is  the  production  of  God,  and  as  one  of  his  gifts  is,  like 
every  other,  to  be  considered  good  in  itself,  and  to  be  received 
with  thankfulness :  but  how  often  does  it  prove  a  snare  to 
the  possessor,  and  a  temptation  to  others.  This  had  like  to 
have  proved  more  fatal  to  Joseph  than  even  the  envy  of  his 
brothers.  This  last  threatened  only  his  body,  but  that  en- 
dangered his  soul.  His  virtue  was  vehemently  and  persever- 
ingly  assailed.  Every  thing  combined  to  give  all  but  irre- 
sistible force  to  the  assault.  Its  nature — so  adapted  to  the 
passions  of  youth  :  its  source — a  person  of  high  rank  and 
commanding  influence,  who  by  her  favors  could  aid  his  pro- 
motion, or  by  her  malignity,  sure  to  be  roused  by  disappoint- 
ment, self-reproach,  and  bitter  resentment,  could  ensure  his 
ruin  :  its  secrecy — which  would  cover  the  crime  from  every 
spectator,  but  that  One  who  is  the  witness  of  all  deeds :  its 
repetition — carried  forward  from  time  to  time  :  its  violence 
— as  if  she  would  carry  her  purpose  by  assault — all  rendered 
it  every  thing  but  certain  that  Joseph's  integrity  must  yield 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  1G5 

Who  would  not  tremble  for  him  ?  Who  would  not  tremble 
more  for  himself  ?  His  destiny  is  suspended  upon  the  man- 
ner in  which  he  met  that  fierce  assault.  If  he  fall,  he  will 
in  all  probability  never  rise — but  if  he  stand,  he  will  as 
probably  never  fall.  If  he  resist,  he  is  safe  for  ever  after. 
If  he  consent,  one  criminal  act  will  lead  to  another,  till  he 
becomes  an  abandoned  profligate.  A  first  wrong  step  will 
render  all  wrong  afterwards,  and  be  an  entrance  on  the  road 
lo  ruin.  Yes,  there  are  cases  in  most  men's  moral  history, 
when  the  whole  character  and  destiny  for  all  the  future  depend 
upon  the  decision  of  the  mind  as  regards  one  single  act. 
Joseph  was  victorious.  Wonderful  !  How  was  this  triumph 
of  virtue  over  vice,  of  youthful  innocence  over  all  but  irre- 
sistible temptation,  achieved  }  First,  by  a  deep  seme  oj 
honor.  He  replied  to  the  seductress,  "  There  is  none 
greater  in  this  house  than  I  ;  neither  hath  he  (my  master) 
kept  any  thing  from  be  but  thee,  because  thou  art  his  wife  :" 
Shall  I  thus  abuse  his  confidence  and  requite  his  kindness .'' 
Noble  youth  !  All  generations  since  have  done  thee  honor  ^ 
But  whence  this  delicate  sense  oi  honor  !  From  infidelity  ^ 
No — for  David  Hume  taught  that  adultery  was  but  a  little 
thing  if  known,  and  if  unknown,  nothing.  Infidelity ! 
AA'here  is  the  infidel  who  would  not  have  laughed  at  the 
squeamishness  of  a  conscience,  which  would  have  hesitated, 
in  such  a  situation  as  this  ?  No  :  It  was  religion  that  made 
Joseph  virtuous  in  himself  and  honorable  to  his  master  ;  for 
he  immediately  added,  "  How  shall  I  do  this  great  wicked- 
ness and  sin  against  God  ?"  Yes,  there  was  his  shield.  All 
guards  but  one  were  absent,  and  that  One,  though  invisible 
to  sense,  now  stood  revealed  to  the  eye  of  his  faith  in  this 
most  perilous  hour  of  his  existence,  and  threw  around  liim 
the  shield  of  omnipotence,    which   averted   the   shaftp    of 


lG6  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

ricious  pleasure,  preserved  his  chastity  unsullied,  and  inspired 
a  deep  abhorrence  of  the  sin  to  which  he  was  now  so  strongly 
tempted.  Yes,  it  was  his  religion,  his  realizing  sense  of  the 
Divine  presence,  that  in  this  crisis  of  his  history  determined 
the  purpose  that  saved  him  from  ruin.  He  acted  under  the 
potent  and  protecting  influence  of  that  impressive  considera- 
tion. Thou  God  seest  me  ;  and  thus  endured  as  seeing 
him  who  is  invisible.     How  solemn  a  reflection. 


u 


Within  thy  circling  power  I  stand, 
On  every  side  I  find  thy  hand ; 
Awake,  asleep,  at  home,  abroad, 
I  am  surrounded  still  with  God. 

"  O  may  these  thoughts  possess  my  breast. 
Where'er  I  roam,  where'er  I  rest, 
Nor  let  my  weaker  passions  dare 
Consent  to  sin — for  God  is  there." 

Young  Men  away  from  home,  removed  from  beneath  the 
vigilant  eye  of  paternal  superintendence,  and  exposed  to 
similar  or  other  temptations,  look  at  the  power  that  preserved 
him^  and  that  can  also  preserve  you.  See  where  your 
strength,  your  safety,  your  happiness,  all  lie.  There  are 
temptations  so  strong,  so  violent,  so  fascinating  to  our  corrupt 
nature,  that  all  other  restraints  but  those  of  true  piety  will  be 
swept  away  before  them,  like  cobwebs  or  chaff"  before  the 
force  of  a  tempest.  It  is  beautifully  said  of  the  good  man 
"  The  law  of  his  God  is  in  his  heart ;  none  of  his  steps  shall 
slide."  Seek  that  support,  guidance,  and  protection,  and 
you  will  be  safe  and  happy  in  dangers  as  imminent  as  those 
which  hung  over  this  holy  and  honorable  man. 

Voluptuous  and  profligate  youth,  votary  of  licentious 
pleasure,  thou  that  deridest  the  prudish  scruples  of  Joseph, 


THE    CHaKACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  167 

and  art  giving  truth  and  meaning  to  thy  scorn  by  a  course 
of  sensuality,  place  thyself  in  imagination  on  the  bed  of 
death,  at  the  judgment-seat,  or  on  the  brink  of  the  fathom- 
less abyss  of  punishment.  Through  the  flames  of  the 
bottomless  pit  seek  those  persons  of  whose  crimes  thou  hast 
been  the  witness,  the  accomplice,  perhaps  the  author.  Be- 
hold the  pleasures  of  a  moment  succeeded  by  the  sufiorings 
of  eternity.  Or  look  up  into  heaven,  where  the  present 
mortification  of  sin  is  followed  by  everlasting  ages  of  holiness 
without  labor,  and  happiness  without  alloy,  and  say,  which 
thou  wilt  then  wish  thou  hadst  been  on  earth, — the  lover  of 
sinful  pleasure,  or  the  lover  of  a  holy  God. 

There  is  one  lesson  of  momentous  consequence  for  the 
young,  and  indeed  for  all,  to  learn  from  the  conduct  of 
Joseph  in  this  assault ;  and  that  is,  that  while  some  tempta- 
tions are  boldly  to  be  encountered  and  resolutely  overcome, 
there  are  others  only  to  be  conquered  by  flight,  and  to  be 
disarmed  by  removing  to  a  distance.  Joseph  fled  from  the 
company  and  solicitations  of  this  shameless  woman.  He 
that  carries  gunpowder  about  him  should  not  stay  and  en- 
deavor to  protect  himself  from  the  fire,  but  should  instantly 
get  as  far  from  it  as  he  can.  So  should  it  be  in  many  cases 
of  temptation — to  parley  is  to  be  in  danger — to  listen  is  to 
be  in  jeopardy — to  linger  is  to  fall.  He  that  enters  with  his 
eyes  open  into  temptation,  or  remains  in  it  voluntarily,  is 
already  vanquished. 

As  Potiphar's  wife  could  not  corrupt  Joseph's  virtue,  she 
determined  to  blast  his  reputation  and  eifect  his  ruin,  and 
brought  forward  the  memorial  of  her  shame  as  the  proof  of 
his  guilt.  Appearances  were  unquestionably  against  him, 
and  shew  how  even  the  most  spotless  purity  may  sometimes 
be  slandered  amidst  circumstances  calculated  to  excite  sus- 
8 


168  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S  FRIEND. 

picion,  and  may  for  awhile  lie  under  the  imputation  of  a 
crime.  "  And  here  again,"  saj;^  an  author,  "  we  have  a 
fresh  instance  of  his  greatness  of  mind.  He  chooses  rather 
to  incur  his  master's  groundless  displeasure  and  to  sink  under 
the  weight  of  a  false  accusation,  than  to  vindicate  his  own 
honor  hy  exposing  the  shame  of  a  bad  woman  ;  and  he  leaves 
the  clearing  up  of  his  character,  and  the  preservation  of  his 
life,  to  that  Grod  with  whom  he  had  entrusted  still  higher 
concerns,  those  of  his  immortal  soul.  And  thus  the  le'ast- 
assuming,  the  shamefaced,  feminine  virtues,  temperance,  and 
chastity,  and  innocence,  and  self-government,  are  found  in 
company  with  the  most  manly,  the  heroic  qualities,  intrepid- 
ity, constancy,  and  contempt  of  death."  This  is  very 
finely  put,  but  it  is  not  quite  certain  that  the  silence  of  the 
historian  proves  also  the  silence  of  Joseph  as  to  any  defence 
of  hifoself ;  nor  is  it  quite  clear  that  either  chivalry  or  trust 
in  Grod  should  have  made  him  willing  to  bow  down  to  such 
an  accusation.  Perhaps,  however,  he  saw  that  as  he  could 
bring  no  witnesses,  and  the  matter  rested  wholly  between 
himself  and  his  tempter,  it  was  useless  to  reveal  the  fact, 
and  better  to  leave  his  vindication  to  the  Providence  of  God, 
who  would  bring  forth  his  righteousness  as  the  light,  and  his 
judgment  as  the  noon-day. 

Joseph  was  indeed  imprisoned,  but  was  infinitely  happier 
there,  with  his  smiling  conscience,  than  was  his  slanderer 
amidst  all  the  luxuries  of  her  mansion,  tormented  as  she 
must  have  been  by  her  own  reflections.  No  place  is  fright- 
ful to  a  good  man  but  the  dungeon  of  an  ill  conscience. 
Free  from  that  Joseph  is  at  large  though  in  prison.  Nor 
can  any  place  be  pleasant  to  one  tormented  with  remorse  ; 
this  will  convert  a  paradise  into  hell.  Here  again  in  this 
seemingly  hard  condition,  we  see   Joseph  maintaining  hi» 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  16(« 

self-respect,  his  confidence  in  God,  his  benevolent  activity, 
his  obliging  disposition,  and  his  general  good  conduct.  By 
this  course  of  action,  he  subdued  even  his  jailor,  and  concil- 
iated the  friendship  and  affection  of  one  who  may  be  supposed 
from  his  occupation,  not  to  have  possessed  the  gentlest 
nature.  He  made  friends  everywhere,  and  of  every  body, 
but  of  her  whose  favors  would  have  been  his  ruin.  This 
was  accomplished  by  the  union  of  piety,  general  excellence 
of  character,  a  cheerful  disposition,  and  obliging  demeanor. 
The  same  course  will  be  followed  in  other  cases  with  the 
same  effects. 

While  suffering  unjustly  in  prison,  the  inspiration  of  God 
came  upon  him  iii  the  interpretation  of  the  dreams  of  two  of 
Pharaoh's  officers,  who  after  two  weary  years  of  ungrateful 
and  criminal  forgetfulness  on  the  part  of  one  of  them,  led  to 
his  liberation.  In  this  very  ingratitude  of  the  chief  butler 
we  see  the  Providence  of  God,  for  had  he  spoken  before  of 
the  poor  captive  whom  he  ought  to  have  remembered — the 
king  might  have  given  the  patriarch  his  liberty  ;  but  then 
none  of  the  events  which  followed  would  probably  have 
taken  place,  and  the  greatest  honors  to  which  he  attained 
might  have  been,  to  have  been  numbered  among  the  wise 
men  of  the  land.  How  conspicuously  Providence  appears 
in  all  these  incidents  !  The  envy  of  his  brethren  ;  the 
lasciviousness  of  his  mistress  ;  the  misconduct  and  dreams  of 
his  fellow-prisoners  ;  and  the  ingratitude  of  one  of  them — all 
bad  in  themselves — yet  all  meeting,  strange  to  think,  in  one 
point — the  elevation  of  Joseph  to  the  throne.  Remove  one 
link  and  the  chain  is  broken.  Grod  is  wonderful  in  counsel, 
and  excellent  in  working. 

The  dreams  of  Pharaoh,  and  their  inspired  interpretation 
by  Joseph,  made  way,  not  only  for  his  liberation,  but  for  his 


t70 

advancement  to  the  highest  dignity  which  the  monarch  could 
bestow,  next  to  the  crown.  Instead  of  the  fetters  which 
bound  him,  he  receives  Pharaoh's  ring  of  office.  Instead  of 
his  prison  clothes,  he  was  dressed  in  the  fine  linen  of  Egypt, 
worn  only  by  the  great.  Instead  of  the  confinement  of  a 
prison,  he  dwells  in  a  palace.  Instead  of  being  the  servant 
of  a  jailor,  he  is  first  minister  of  a  monarch,  never  appearing 
in  public  but  to  be  seen  in  a  chariot  of  state  preceded  by  a 
herald,  calling  upon  the  people  to  bow  the  knee.  A  change 
so  sudden,  a  transition  so  great,  an  elevation  so  lofty, 
usually  intoxicates  the  mind,  corrupts  the  heart,  and  mars 
the  character.  It  had  not  this  efibct  upon  our  moral  hero. 
Beware  of  the  dangerous  influence  of  sudden  and  -great 
prosperity.  Joseph's  dignity,  his  courage,  his  humility, 
his  clemency,  on  this  trying  occasion,  were  astonishing,  and 
are  all  to  be  traced  up  to  his  piety,  which  dictated  and  pro- 
duced all  these  virtues,  and  caused  him  to  maintain  the 
same  fidelity  and  prudence,  as  the  prime  minister  of  state, 
which  he  exhibited  in  the  house  of  Potiphar  and  in  the 
prison.  His  holy  excellences,  as  the  circle  of  his  influence 
widened,  increased  their  power,  and  multiplied  their  effects, 
till  they  replenished  the  greater  circumference  as  completely 
as  they  had  done  the  less.  Potiphar 's  base  and  flagitious 
wife — his  tempter  and  calumniator  ;  the  ungrateful  butler  ; 
his  own  wicked  and  murderous  brethren  ;  were  all  now  at 
his  mercy :  he  had  an  arm  long  enough  to  reach,  and  strong 
enough  to  crush,  them  all  ;  but  with  a  generosity  untinctured 
by  a  single  particle  of  malice  or  resentment,  he  determined 
that  the  sun  of  his  glory  should  shine  forth  without  a  spot. 
*'  Joseph  was  but  thirty  years  old  when  he  became  the  prime 
minister  of  Pharaoh ;  seventeen  of  which  had  been  spent 
under  the  wing  of  a  fond,  indulgent  parent ;  und  the  other 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  1*71 

thirteen,  at  that  period  when  the  heart  is  most  devoted  to 
pleasure,  he  had  lingered  away  in  all  the  variety  of  human 
wretchedness,  but  in  all  the  dignity  of  virtue,  all  the  supe- 
riority of  wisdom,  all  the  delights,  pure  and  sublime,  of  true 
piety ;  and  now,  at  an  age  when  most  men  are  only  begin- 
ning to  reflect  and  act  as  reasonable  beings,  we  see  him 
raised,  not  by  accident,  nor  cabal,  nor  by  petulance,  but  by 
undisputed  merit,  to  a  situation  which  one  part  of  mankind 
look  up  to  with  desire,  another  with  awe,  and  a  third  with 
despair."  See  him,  young  men,  now  as  a  minister  of  Pha- 
raoh, serving  his  royal  master  during  the  years  of  famine 
and  plenty,  with  a  zeal  surpassed  only  by  his  honesty. 
What  an  opportunity  did  he  now  possess  to  amass  for  him- 
self, by  selfishness  and  peculation,  incalculable  wealth.  But 
his  fidelity  was  as  signal  and  illustrious  as  his  situation.  He 
has  been  blamed  by  some  for  taking  advantage  of  the 
famine,  first  to  impoverish  and  then  to  enslave  the  Egyp- 
tians. I  have  not  time  to  examine  this  charge  at  any  length, 
nor  to  enter  minutely  into  the  circumstances  of  this  part  of 
his  conduct :  and  perhaps  we  may  not  be  able  to  come  to 
any  satisfactory  conclusion  upon  it,  for  want  of  more  infor- 
mation than  is  contained  in  the  Scriptural  account.  There 
are  some  expositors  who  are  of  opinion  that  there  wag 
nothing  in  this  transaction  which  reflects  discredit  on 
Joseph's  character.  That  he  had  no  selfish  view  is  evident, 
and  as  regards  Pharaoh,  it  must  be  borne  in  mind,  the 
government  of  Egypt,  both  before  and  after  the  famine,  was 
much  more  despotic  and  arbitrary  than  we  can  approve.  If 
there  were  in  this  afiair  nothing  but  a  display  of  ministerial 
adroitness,  in  ungenerously  employing  his  superior  skill  and 
address  in  planning  and  carrying  out  a  system  of  despotism, 
let  it  be  viewed  as  a  dark  spot  on  the  disc  of  his  glory :   but 


172  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

it  is  bvilieved  by  many  that  this  was  not  the  case.  It  is  clear, 
it  is  said  in  his  defence,  that  after  the  expiration  of  the 
famine,  he  restored  to  the  people  their  lands  and  their  liber- 
ties, upon  condition  of  their  paying  to  the  king  a  fifth  part 
of  their  produce,  which  was  a  kind  of  corn-tax  in  lieu,  it 
should  seem,  of  all  arbitrary  exactions,  for  the  purposes  of 
government ;  a  tax  which  in  that  fertile  country,  they  could 
easily  pay.  That  Joseph  was  not  an  oppressor  is  evident 
from  the  sentiments  of  gratitude  which  the  Egyptians 
expressed — ^^'  Thou  hast  saved  our  lives;''''  and  from  the 
veneration  and  love  with  which  his  memory  has  ever  been 
cherished  among  them.  Instead  of  enslaving  the  people,  he 
was  the  first,  say  his  defenders,  that  in  Egypt  limited  the 
power  of  the  crown,  settling  by  a  formal  ordinance  that 
portion  alone  which  the  king  could  touch. 

Before  we  pass  on,  let  us  just  pause  for  a  moment  to 
mark  the  changeful  condition  of  man  upon  earth.  Compare, 
or  rather  contrast,  the  situation  of  Joseph  now  as  prime- 
minister  of  Egypt,  and  second  only  to  Pharaoh  himself,  with 
his  condition  as  first  the  slave  and  afterwards  the  prisoner 
of  Potiphar.  How  soon  may  the  most  brilliant  scene  be 
enveloped  in  the  darkest  clouds,  and  the  calm  be  succeeded 
by  the  storm  ;  on  the  other  hand,  how  equally  soon  may 
these  dark  clouds  roll  off  and  exhibit  the  orb  in  more  than 
previous  splendor,  and  the  storm  give  way  to  a  brighter  and 
a  sweeter  calm.  Amidst  such  vicissitudes,  let  us  indulge 
neither  a  careless  and  confident  security  in  prosperity,  nor  a 
settled  and  gloomy  despondency  in  adversity  ;  but  seek  that 
true  piety  and  that  humble  trust  in  God,  which  shall  preserve 
us  in  a  cheerful  and  tranquil  equanimity  of  mind,  and  make 
us  feel  as  dependent  in  one  condition  a?  we  are  hopeful  iii 
the  other. 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  173 

'^'"e  now  turn  from  Joseph  as  prime  minister  of  state  to 
contemplate  his  conduct  as  a  brother  and  a  son.  I  do  not 
profess  to  he  able  to  explain  how  it  came  to  pass  that  all 
this  while  he  made  no  enquiries  after  his  father  and  brethren. 
There  is  a  chasm  here  which  we  cannot  fill  up.  That  it 
arose  neither  from  resentment  nor  alienation  seems  evident 
from  his  subsequent  conduct.  Perhaps  he  thought  he  could 
not  communicate  the  details  of  his  history  without  inflicting 
a  deeper  wound  upon  his  father's  heart,  by  an  account  of  the 
unworthiness  of  his  other  sons,  than  could  be  healed  by  the 
information  of  his  own  life  and  elevation.  Or  perhaps,  God, 
whose  counsel  he  sought  in  all  his  ways,  might  have  given 
him  an  express  revelation,  directing  him  at  what  time  and 
in  what  manner  to  make  himself  known  to  his  family.  For 
the  account  of  Joseph's  conduct  to  his  brethren  you  are 
referred  to  the  inimitably  touching  narrative  preserved  in 
the  book  of  Genesis.  To  many  readers,  doubtless,  there 
will  appear  to  be  a  somewhat  unseemly  sporting  with  their 
feelings — a  want  of  sincerity  in  the  disguise  he  assumed  and 
the  accusations  he  preferred — and  a  degree  of  profanity  in 
the  somewhat  heathen  language  which  in  one  or  two  in- 
stances he  employed.  I  will  not  contend  that  in  all  his 
conduct  he  was  perfectly  blameless.  There  might  have 
been  spots  in  his  character,  and  after  comparing  it  very 
closely  with  Scripture,  some  might  be  discovered ;  and  we 
must  disapprove  of  what  is  wrong  wherever  and  in  whom- 
soever it  is  to  be  found.  Sacred  history  exhibits  its  charac- 
ters just  as  they  were,  not  what  in  all  respects  they  should 
have  been.  Dark  spots  are  most  easily  discovered  upon  the 
whitest  garments,  and  foul  blemishes  in  the  fairest  reputa- 
tions. There  were,  however,  obvious  reasons  for  the  gene- 
ral   conduct   of    Joseph.       He    knew   the   former   wicked 


174  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

character  of  his  brethren,  and  had  experienced  theii 
murderous  cruelty  towards  himself;  and  as  he  very  likely 
foresaw  that  this  interview  and  renewed  intercourse  might 
lead  to  their  coming  down  and  settling  in  Egypt,  he  wished 
to  ascertain  how  far  their  present  character  would,  from  ita 
improvement,  warrant  his  encouraging  such  a  step.  What 
might  appear,  therefore,  to  others  as  unnecessary  cruelty, 
was  in  his  intention  the  wisdom  and  severity  of  love.  It 
was  the  test  of  fire  to  the  metal,  to  prove  of  what  sort  it  is. 
He  wanted  to  know  how  far  they  repented  of  their  sin 
towards  himself,  and  he  therefore  placed  himself  in  a  position 
to  ascertain  this,  a  position  in  which  he  could  look  into  their 
very  hearts,  without  discovering  his  own.  His  love  yearned 
over  them,  and  he  longed  to  tell  them  how  fully  and  freely 
he  forgave  them,  but  with  a  prudence  and  strength  of  mind 
which  prove  not  only  how  good,  but  how  wise  and  great  he 
was,  he  laid  a  stern  restraint  upon  his  feelings  till  the  proper 
moment  of  disclosure  arrived,  and  the  end  of  postponing  it 
had  been  fully  answered.  The  whole  scene  is  of  such 
exquisite  pathos  as  is  not  to  be  equalled  in  the  creation  of 
fiction. 

At  length  the  full  evidence  of  contrition  and  amendment 
having  been  obtained,  and  the  purpose  of  the  disguise  having 
been  accomplished,  his  heart  could  endure  no  longer  the 
torture  of  concealment ;  the  pathetic  speech  of  Judah,  the 
sight  of  his  own  beloved  brother  Benjamin,  the  frequent 
mention  of  his  father's  name,  raised  such  a  torrent  of  the 
tender  and  powerful  affections  of  filial  and  paternal  love  in 
his  soul,  that  he  suddenly  lets  fall  the  mask,  and  exclaims, 
*'  I  AxM  Joseph.  Doth  my  father  yet  live  ?"  Who  can 
describe,  who  can  imagine  their  feelings  at  this  discovery  ? 
If  they  had  in  his  early  life  actually  put  him  to  death,  and 


THE    CHARACTER    OV    JOSEPH.  175 

his  ghost  had  now  started  up  before  them,  they  could  not 
have  felt  greatly  different.  A  little  mind  might  have  enjoyed 
the  triumph  which  he  had  now  gained  over  those  who  once 
hated  him.  He  saw  their  distress — he  beheld  them  dumb 
with  amazement — petrified  with  terror — tortured  with  appre- 
hension— and  he  instantly  dispelled  their  fears  ;  calmed  their 
perturbation ;  became  their  apologist,  instead  of  their  accu- 
ser ;  and  directed  their  attention  to  that  Providence  which 
had  over-ruled  their  conduct  not  only  to  procure  his  advance- 
ment, but  also  for  the  preservation  of  the  lives  of  thousands. 
A  less  generous,  noble,  and  delicate  mind,  would  have 
talked  much  of  forgiving  theni^  but  he  entreats  them  to  for- 
give themselves,  as  if  the  other  were  settled. 

Revengeful  and  implacable  men,  whom  the  least  offence 
inflames, — who  never  forgive  an  injury  incomparably  less 
than  that  committed  against  Joseph — who,  with  a  serpentine 
cunning,  and  a  blood-hound  scent,  and  a  leonine  ferocity, 
pursue  the  object  of  your  malice,  and  at  last  take  a  demon- 
like pleasure  in  his  tortures  as  he  writhes  under  the  inflic- 
tions of  your  revenge,  how  little,  how  contemptible,  you 
appear,  when  compared  with  this  hero  of  fraternal  love. 
Pause,  young  men,  upon  this  instance,  and  say  if  there  is  not 
more  moral  greatness  in  this  act  of  forgiveness  than  in  all 
the  sanguinary  heroes  of  history  or  romance  ? 

You  have  seen  Joseph  as  a  brother^  now  contemplate  him 
once  more  as  a  son^  I  sav  once  more,  for  we  have  seen  him 
already  in  his  youthful  days,  the  comfort  of  his  father's  de- 
clining years.  The  boy  has  become  a  man — the  man  has 
become  illustrious — and  the  illustrious  individual  has  become 
the  resident  and  the  minister  of  a  foreign  court — and  does 
he  still  remember  and  love  his  father,  the  old  shepherd  of 
Canaan  ?  Has  filial  piety  outlived  his  injuries,  his  changes, 
8* 


]  76  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

his  reverses,  his  elevation  ?  Or,  has  Joseph  wished  and 
contrived  amidst  his  brilliant  fortunes  to  forget  the  hoary 
patriarch  ?  Again  I  say,  read  the  beautiful  history  and  see 
how  this  son  of  sons  shall  answer,  by  his  own  conduct,  this 
question.  How  abrupt  the  transition  in  that  gush  of  feeling  ! 
"  I  am  Josejph^  doth  my  father  yet  live  !"  How  beau- 
tiful the  exhortation,  "  Ye  shall  tell  my  father  all  my  glory.' 
How  exquisite  the  admonition,  "  Haste  ye,  and  go  up  to  my 
father  and  say  unto  him  :  Thus  saith  thy  son  Joseph,  God 
has  made  me  Lord  of  all  Egypt ;  come  down ;  tarry  not. 
And  thou  shalt  dwell  in  the  land  of  Goshen,  and  thou  shalt 
be  near  unto  me,  thou  and  thy  children,  and  thy  children's 
children,  and  all  that  thou  hast,  and  there  will  I  nourish 
thee.     Ye  shall  haste  and  bring  down  my  father  hither." 

The  joyful  news  being  conveyed  to  Jacob,  he  immediately 
removed  with  all  his  family  to  Egypt.  I  attempt  not  to 
describe  the  raptures  of  that  interview,  when  father  and  son, 
clasped  in  each  others'  arms,  found  not  only  words,  but  tears 
and  sobs  too  weak  to  express  the  overwhelming  ecstasies  of 
that  scene  and  that  moment  in  which  Jacob  could  find 
nothing  better  fitted  to  give  utterance  to  his  emotion  than 
this,  ''  Now  let  me  die,  since  I  have  seen  the  face  of  my  son." 
Would  you  behold  the  greatest  triumph  and  the  richest  trophy 
of  filial  love,  turn  to  that  glorious  spectacle,  when  the  prime 
minister  of  Egypt,  the  man  next  to  Pharaoh  himself,  led  the 
poor  old  shepherd  of  Canaan,  leaning  upon  his  arm,  into  the 
palace,  and  before  the  whole  circle  of  courtiers,  introduced 
him  to  the  monarch,  exultingly  exclaiming,  "  My  Father." 
*'  0  Nature,  nature !  How  honorable  thy  empire,  how 
glorious  thy  triumphs."  There  may,  for  aught  I  know,  be 
a  more  splendid  example  of  filial  love  than  this — but  I  know 
not  where  to  find  it.     While  Joseph  was  indulging  in  all  this 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  177 

luxury  of  affection  for  his  father,  he  did  not  forget  hia 
brethren,  and  though  encircled  with  the  splendors  of  a  court, 
and  invested  with  its  richest  hcnors,  he  was  not  ashamed  to 
own  as  his  brothers,  those  whose  occupation  was  odious  in 
the  estimation  of  the  Egyptians,  and  to  regard  as  his  greatest 
distinction,  his  descent  from  the  herdsman,  who  was  the 
friend  of  God. 

Here,  young  men,  is  the  example  of  a  son,  which  I  com- 
mend most  earnestly  and  affectionately  to  your  attention  and 
imitation.  Be  each  of  you  a  good  son^  not  only  in  youth, 
but  in  manhood,  and  as  long  as  the  old  man  your  father 
lives.  There  can  be  no  moral  excellence  where  filial  piety  is 
wanting.  You  cannot  love  your  heavenly  Father,  if  you  do 
not  love  your  earthly  one.  In  that  sterile  ground  where  this 
virtue  grows  not,  nothing  good  can  grow,  but  only  a  few 
miserable  weeds.  Let  your  conduct  be  all  such  as  to  carry 
comfort  to  a  father's  heart,  and  let  this  be  to  you  an  object  of 
tender  solicitude  and  constant  vigilance.  Ask  how  every  thing 
will  affect  his  peace,  and  thus  imbibe  the  spirit  of  that  noble 
Tbeban,  Epaminondas,  who  being  asked  what  he  esteemed 
the  happiest  circumstance  of  his  life,  replied,  "  That  my 
father  and  mother  were  living  when  I  gained  the  victory  of 
Leuctra."  Or  if  you  want  a  more  modern  instance  of  strong 
filial  affection,  take  Dr.  Samuel  Johnson's  example,  borrow- 
ing, in  his  extreme  poverty,  six  guineas,  to  comfort  the  death- 
bed of  his  poor  dying  mother,  and  paying  the  expenses  of 
her  funeral  with  the  proceeds  of  the  sale  of  the  manuscript 
of  Rasselas.  And  especially  remember  the  solemn  and  in- 
cumbent duty  of  maintaining  this  affection  amidst  every 
change  of  circumstances.  Some  have  dropped  and  lost 
their  relative  affections  as  they  rose  in  life  from  the  humble 
vale  of  poverty  ;  and  having  arrived  on  the  summit  of  wealth 


178  THE    YOUKG    man's    FRIEND 

and  worldly  honor  have  blushed  to  own  the  connections 
which  they  left  below.  I  can  conceive  of  cases  in  which 
virtue  itself  may  make  a  son  blush  to  own  his  father.  I 
mean  when  the  wretched  parent  has  by  his  misconduct  not 
only  disgraced  himself,  but  his  family  j  but  for  a  child  to  be 
ashamed  of  a  father  simply  on  account  of  his  poverty,  is  a 
disposition  of  which  it  is  difficult  to  say  which  is  the  greatest, 
the  meanness,  the  folly,  the  cruelty,  or  the  wickedness — it 
is  however  enough  to  say  it  is  a  compound  of  all  these  detest- 
able ingredients. 

We  hasten  to  contemplate  the  closing  scenes  of  Joseph's 
history.  He  had  welcomed  his  aged  father  to  Egypt,  and  by 
his  dutiful  and  loving  behavior  had  filled  his  latter  days 
with  such  consolation,  and  crowned  his  hoary  head  with  such 
glory  and  honor,  as,  during  the  seventeen  years  he  enjoyed 
his  pleasing  and  instructive  society,  must  have  alu^ost  oblite- 
rated the  recollection  of  his  past  deep  sorrows.  He  had 
settled  his  brethren  in  Goshen,  and  lived  beloved  and  respect- 
ed by  them.  Pharaoh  and  his  court  continued  to  him  their 
confidence,  and  the  Egyptians  their  gratitude  and  veneration. 
Jacob  at  length  died,  ^nd  Joseph  gave  beautiful  proof  that 
neither  his  sensibilities  as  a  man,  nor  his  piety  as  a  believer 
in  God,  had  been  dried  up  under  the  tropical  sun  of  his 
wonderful  prosperity.  He  fell  on  the  lifeless  corpse  of  his 
father,  wept,  and  kissed  him.  It  was  Jacob's  dying  request 
to  be  buried  not  in  Egypt,  but  in  the  land  of  Canaan  ;  a 
request  that  expressed  his  faith  in  the  promise  of  God,  which 
ensured  the  possession  of  this  country  to  his  descendants. 
This  request  was  most  scrupulously  complied  with  by  Joseph, 
who  to  do  honor  to  his  father's  memory,  followed  his  re 
mains  to  Canaan,  accompanied  in  the  funeral  procession  by 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  lYS 

a  retinue  suited  to  his  high  rank  as  the  prime  minister  of 
Pharaoh.     0  what  a  son  ! 

It  now  remained  to  be  proved,  and  so  his  brethren 
thought,  whether  Joseph's  forgiveness  had  been  granted 
to  them  out  of  mere  respect  to  their  father's  feelings,  or 
from  the  generous  impulse  of  his  own.  They  first  sent, 
therefore,  in  the  most  supplicating  terms  to  implore  his 
pardon,  enforcing  their  request  by  the  sacred  name  of  his 
father,  and  his  father's  God ;  and  then  came  and  pros- 
trated themselves  before  him,  thus  fulfilling  the  dreams  ot 
his  youth,  which  had  excited  their  envy  and  hatred.  They 
knew  not,  even  yet,  the  depths  of  his  generosity,  and  formed 
their  opinion  of  him  from  themselves.  He  wept  over  their 
submission,  cheered  them  with  assurance  of  his  continued 
kindness,  and  said  to  them,  "  Fear  not — for  am  I  in  the 
place  of  Grod.  But  as  for  you,  ye  thought  evil  against  me, 
but  God  meant  it  unto  good.  Now,  therefore  fear  ye  not ; 
I  will  nourish  you  and  your  little  ones.  And  he  comforted 
them,  and  spake  kindly  unto  them."  Noble-minded  Joseph. 
What  a  brother  !     What  a  beautiful  example  of  holy  charity  ! 

Joseph  lived  fifty-four  years  after  this.  The  principal 
interest  of  his  eventful  life  was  gone  ;  the  chequered  scene 
of  cloud  and  sunshine  was  over,  and  year  succeeded  to  year 
of  unvarying  splendor,  and  the  remaining  history  is  com- 
prised in  a  few  sentences.  He  difi'used  happiness  around 
him,  and  saw  his  father's  house  and  his  own  descendants 
greatly  multiplied.  But  as  neither  station,  nor  power,  nor 
wealth,  nor  piety,  nor  all  these  combined  can  preserve  from 
the  stroke  of  death,  Joseph  laid  down  his  honors  at  the 
feet  of  the  King  of  Terrors,  and  was  gathered  to  his  fathers, 
"  Grief  finds  a  cure — usefulness  a  period — glory  a  decay — 
and  pride  a  destroyer — in   the  grave."     So  he   found  it 


180  THE  YOUXG  man's  FRIEXD. 

The  piety  which  had  been  the  guide  of  his  youth,  the  guard 
of  his  middle  life,  and  the  prop  of  his  old  age,  sustained  him 
to  the  last,  and  he  died  in  faith  of  the  promise  of  God, 
requesting  that  his  remains  might  be  preserved  and  his  bones 
carried  to  Canaan,  whenever  the  Lord  should  visit  his  people, 
and  restore  them  to  the  Land  of  promise.  This  request, 
similar  in  nature  and  design  to  that  of  his  father,  like  that 
was  sacredly  fulfilled  ;  for  when  the  Israelites,  nearly  two 
centuries  afterwards,  left  Egypt,  notwithstanding  the  hurried 
circumstances  of  their  flight,  they  repaired  to  his  sepulchre, 
exhumed  his  bones — which  as  a  precious  legacy  they  carried 
with  them  amidst  all  their  wanderings  in  the  wilderness— 
and  at  length  interred  them  in  that  sacred  spot  where  already 
reposed  the  dust  of  Abraham,  Isaac,  and  Jacob. 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark,  that  the  character  of 
Joseph  is  a  deeply  interesting  one,  which  combines  the 
sobriety  of  truth  with  the  charms  of  fiction.  The  variety  of 
incident — the  scenes  of  true  pathos — the  constant  vicissi- 
tudes— the  vivid  contrasts  of  character — the  unexpected 
turns  of  fortune — the  struggles  of  exalted  piety  with  temp- 
tation, and  the  signal  victories  of  truth  and  virtue — the 
working  of  the  various  passions  and  the  play  of  the  diversi- 
fied afi"ections  of  humanity — together  with  the  intermixture 
of  supernatural  interposition  with  the  ordinary  courses  of 
nature  and  events  which  it  contains — all  invest  this  history 
with  a  fascination  which  nothing  can  surpass.  Every  one 
who  has  ever  read  it  has  confessed  its  power.  The  peasant 
and  the  philosopher — it  has  been  truly  said — the  child  and 
the  adult — the  believer  and  the  infidel — the  men  of  all 
nations  and  all  ages — have  admired,  delighted  in,  and  been 
edified  by,  a  story,  which  clothed  with  all  the  graces  of 


THE    CII.^.IACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  181 

eloquence,  conveys  the  purest  and  sublimest  lessons  of  pietj^ 
and  morality. 

This  is  a  real  history  and  not  a  fiction.  I  do  not  deny  that 
even  those  examples  which  are  merely  the  creations  of  genius 
and  the  ofispring  of  imagination,  have  some  power  over  the 
mind,  or  that  truth  and  holiness  even  in  fabh ,  may  inspire 
affection  and  stimulate  imitation  ;  but  it  is  with  a  power  far 
less  commanding  than  that  of  fact.  Whatever  effect  such 
exhibitions  of  virtue  and  vice  may  have,  it  is  weakened  both 
at  the  time  and  in  recollection,  by  a  secret  whisper,  "It  is 
all  unreal."  The  perusal  of  such  descriptions,  however 
strongly  it  may  excite  the  imagination,  has  little  hold  upon 
the  conscience,  and  is  rarely  followed  by  any  lasting  results 
upon  the  character.  The  effect  of  moral  faUes  and  moral 
facU  upon  the  mind  is  respectively  not  unlike  that  of  a 
picture  which  is  a  work  of  pure  fancy,  as  compared  with  a 
panorama  of  a  real  scene.  Now  the  character  of  Joseph  is 
a  reality. 

It  is  a  scriptural  character,  on  which  the  hand  of  God 
has  been  specially  employed,  both  in  its  production  and  in 
its  exhibition.  God  has  not  only  lavished  upon  it  the  riches 
of  his  power,  wisdom,  and  grace,  in  forming  and  finishing  it 
as  one  of  the  most  beautiful  specimens  of  his  divine  art  and 
workmanship,  but  he  has  also  set  it  in  the  gorgeous  frame  of 
inspiration,  and  suspended  it  in  his  own  Scripture  gallery  of 
portraits  of  holy  men  of  old,  where  he  exhibits  it  for  admira- 
tion, and  also  for  imitation,  and  which  though  now  nearly 
four  thousand  years  old,  is  as  fresh  as  when  it  was  just  finish- 
ed by  the  pencil  of  the  Divine  hand. 

It  is  a  character  which  countless  millions  have  beheld 
with  admiration,  and  multitudes  of  them  with  anxious, 
studied,  and  successful  imitation.     It  has  been  held  up  before 


182 

the  youth  of  all  nations,  and  all  ages,  whither  the  Bible  has 
gone.  How  many  have  been  fortified  in  their  struggles, 
against  sin,  and  made  victorious  over  temptation  by  the  holy 
exclamation  of  this  noble  youth,  "  How  shall  I  do  this  great 
wickedness  and  sin  against  Grod  ?"  It  comes  therefore  to 
you  recommended  and  sanctioned  by  the  experience  of 
numbers. 

The  basis  of  this  beautiful  specimen  of  sanctified  humanity 
was  laid  in  true  religion.  All  that  lofty  and  noble  structure 
of  excellence  which  this  history  exhibits,  rose  upon  the 
foundation  of  the  belief  and  fear  of  God.  It  began  in  the 
house  of  his  father  Jacob,  while  he  was  yet  a  boy,  and  it 
was  on  this  account  that  the  patriarch  cherished  the  partiality 
which  he  so  unwisely  displayed.  Joseph  "  remembered  his 
Creator  in  the  days  of  his  youth."  The  fervent,  consistent, 
and  triumphant  piety  he  manifested  abroad,  he  gained  while 
under  the  parental  roof.  Those  seeds  of  excellence  which 
grew  up,  and  protected,  and  adorned  the  young  man  from 
home,  were  sowed  by  the  hand  of  his  father  at  home.  What 
security  is  there  for  moral  excellence  without  religion,  and 
what  security  for  religion  except  it  be  taken  up  in  youth  } 
It  was  religion,  I  repeat  emphatically,  that  was  the  sub- 
stratum of  all  Joseph's  excellence. 

The  character  of  Joseph  is  as  symmetrical  as  it  is  well 
based.  There  is  a  beautiful  harmony  and  proportion  in  it. 
You  do  not  see  one  excellence  flourishing  amidst  many  im- 
perfections, like  a  flower  amidst  many  weeds  in  a  wilder- 
ness— but  a  garden  of  beautiful  plants^  all  exhibiting  their 
colors  and  mingling  their  fragrance  ;  nor  like  a  single  column 
rising  amidst  ruin  and  surrounding  desolation — but  a  majestic 
temple,  with  all  its  parts  in  all  their  orderly  arrangements 
and  all  their  exquisite  proportions.     Here  we  see  the  son, 


THE    CHARACTEP     OF    JOSEPH.  183 

the  brother,  the  servant,  the  master,  the  ruler — each  in  ita 
single  and  separate  excellence,  and  all  combined  and  har- 
monized in  one  glorious  and  lovely  character.  Here  are  no 
eccentricities — no  anomalies — no  distortions — no  extrava- 
gancies ;  no  attempt  to  excuse  great  irregularities  in  some 
things,  by  as  great  excellencies  in  others — no  balancing  of 
virtues  against  vices — no  compensative  processes — but  admi- 
rable consistency — beautiful  uniformity — in  short,  that  ex- 
quisite completeness  which  strikes  the  eye  of  the  observer 
from  whatever  point  of  view  it  is  contemplated.  How  inflex- 
ible in  temptation — how  cheerful  and  active  in  adversity — 
how  modest,  humble,  dignified,  and  holy,  in  prosperity.  In 
him  were  united  the  sagacity  of  the  statesman,  the  penetra- 
tion of  the  prophet,  the  firmness  of  the  believer,  and  tho 
purity  of  the  saint.  Goodness  came  first,  greatness  followed , 
and  the  former  remained  fixed  in  the  latter,  like  the  jewel 
set  in  gold. 

Young  men,  what  a  character  is  here  !  how  worthy  of  your 
study — in  which  you  see  set  forth  tke,  dangers  you  may  have 
to  encounter  from  excessive  parental  indulgence — from  inju- 
rious treatment — from  living  away  from  home  in  a  corrupt 
state  of  society — from  violent  and  unexpected  temptation — 
from  being  entrusted  with  the  interests  of  others — from 
coming  into  possession  of  great  wealth,  exalted  station,  and 
public  honor.  What  a  host  of  perils  !  And  here  you  learn 
in  his  piety — meekness — integrity — diligence — economy — 
dignity — sympathy — forgiveness — filial  regard — and  depend- 
ence upon  God — the  many  excellences  you  should  imitate  ;  and 
the  means  by  which  these  perils  are  to  be  vanquished.  Nor 
less  strikingly  do  you  see  in  his  end  the  rewards  that  crown 
a  holy  and  virtuous  life — you  see  Tirtue  crowned  with  safety 


184  THE  TOUNa  man's  friend. 

— with  peace — with  riches — with  honor — with  usefulness— 
with  heaven. 

It  is  possible  that  curiosity  may  lead  some  of  the  parents 
of  the  youths  who  may  purchase  this  sermon,  to  look  through 
its  paf^es,  and  should  this  be  the  case,  let  the  following 
remarks  arrest  their  attention. 

How  momentous  a  duty  is  it  on  their  part,  to  give  sound 
religious  instruction  to  their  children  at  the  earliest  period 
in  wliich  they  can  receive  it,  and  endeavor  by  the  most  judi- 
cious, affectionate,  and  persevering  methods,  to  form  the 
religious  character. 

Of  what  great  consequence  it  is  in  order  to  promote  the 
peace  of  families  to  avoid  the  manifestation  of  partiality  for 
any  one  child,  by  any  unwise  marks  of  distinction. 

Parents,  you  know  not  how  early  your  children  will  be 
removed  from  you,  which  is  an  additional  motive  to  train 
them  up  in  the  fear  of  Grod,  that  they  may  leave  home  forti- 
fied by  true  piety,  to  encounter  the  temptations  of  the  world, 
and  to  endure  the  trials  of  life. 

It  may  be  that  the  child  long  lost  to  you  may  be  restored 
under  circumstances  of  such  delight  as  more  than  to  compen- 
sate for  his  absence,  and  the  suspense  concerning  him.  The 
pious  son  who  is  removed  from  your  family  at  a  tender  age, 
and  for  a  long  time  has  no  interest  in  your  affairs^  may  prove 
to  be  the  main  pillar  of  your  house,  when  there  is  no  other 
person  to  prevent  its  fall. 

It  is  possible,  and  even  probable,  that  the  piety  of  one 
pious  child  may  become  in  following  years  the  means  of 
reformation  and  conversion  to  many  others  in  your  family, 
who  had  abused  pious  intructions  in  their  early  years,  and 
fallen  into  the  ways  of  vice  and  wickedness. 

Many  a  parent  whose  heart  was  at  one  time  well-nigh 


THE    CHARACTER    OF    JOSEPH.  185 

broken  by  the  circumstances  of  his  family,  has  lived  to  see 
the  tide  of  his  domestic  sorrow  turned,  and  has  ended  a 
cloudy  and  stormy  day,  with  a  calm  and  beautiful  sunset. 

A  pious  child  is  a  father's  best  companion,  next  to  God 
himself,  amidst  the  infirmities  of  old  age,  and  in  the  chamber 
of  sickness  and  death. 

But  it  is  you,  my  young  friends,  and  you  especially.  Young 
Men,  who  should  consider  this  history.  Give  yourselves 
time  to  study  it,  and  seek  grace  to  imitate  it,  as  far  a^s  the 
principles  on  which  it  is  founded  and  the  virtues  which  com- 
pose it  shall  apply  to  your  own  circumstances.  And  when 
you  have  thus  studied  it  for  its  importance,  admired  it  for 
its  beauty,  and  copied  it  for  your  own  advantage — ascend 
from  it  to  the  contemplation  of  that  still  more  glorious,  per- 
fect, and  august  example  which  is  given  us  in  our  Lord 
Jesus  Christ,  of  whose  personal  history  it  furnishes,  though 
not  perhaps  a  type,  yet  a  parallelism,  which  is  most  singu- 
larly striking.  Joseph  envied  by  his  brethren  ;  sold  into 
Egypt ;  degraded  to  the  condition  of  a  servant ;  exalted  from 
the  dungeon  to  the  neighborhood  of  the  throne  ;  invested 
with  power  ;  drawing  his  perishing  kindred  to  him  ;  and 
bestowing  upon  them  a  possession  in  the  best  of  the  land,  at 
any  rate  reminds  us  of  Him,  if  it  does  not  actually  prefigure; 
Him,  who  was  hated  by  the  Jews ;  sold  by  one  of  his 
apostles  ;  crucified  by  the  Romans,  and  thus  was  made  of  no 
reputation,  but  was  afterwards  raised  from  the  cross  to  a 
throne  above  the  skies.  Behold  him  ascending  on  high  ; 
receiving  gifts  for  men  ;  attracting  millions  to  him  for  salva- 
tion ;  and  conferring  upon  them  an  inheritance  incorruptible 
undefiled,  and  that  fadeth  not  away.  Thus  unite  the  Old 
and  the  New  Testament  histories,  and  combine  in  yourselves 
the  character  of  Joseph  with  the  mind  of  Jesus. 


THE  STUDY  OF  THE  BOOK  OF  PROVERBS  RECOM- 
MENDED. 


'•  The  Proverbs  of  Solomon,  the  son  of  David,  King  of  Israel. 

"  To  know  wisdom  and  instruction ;  to  perceive  the  words  of  under- 
standing : 

''  To  receive  the  instruction  of  wisdom,  justice,  and  judgment,  and 
equity ; 

"  To  give  subtilty  to  the  simple,  to  the  young  man  knowledge  and 
discretion." 

Peoverbs  i.,  1 — 4. 

In  the  subject  we  are  to  consider  this  evening,  we  have 
another  proof  and  a  fine  illustration  of  the  opening  senti- 
ment of  the  last  sermon— I  mean  the  variety,  beauty,  and 
usefulness  of  the  Holy  Scriptures.  In  that  discourse  we  saw 
and  felt  the  fascination  of  sacred  narrative  ;  in  this  we  shall 
see  no  less  prominently,  and  feel,  1  hope,  no  less  powerfully, 
the  value  of  Scripture  proverbs  :  and  if  that  presented  to  us 
a  chain  of  gold,  in  which  each  event  was  a  distinct  link,  yet 
all  were  so  conjoined  as  to  form  a  splendid  whole ;  this  will 
present  a  string  of  the  richest  pearls,  of  which  each  by  itself 
is  a  separate  and  valuable  whole. 

Proverbs  are  short  sentences  containing  a  maxim  of  wis- 


THE    BOOK    OF    PliOVERBS.  187 

dom,  or  expressing  a  well-known  truth  or  fact  ascertained 
by  experience  or  observation.  These  have  ever  constituted 
a  method  of  human  teaching,  especially  in  countries  of  little 
civilization,  where  books  were  few  or  unknown,  and  men 
depended  for  their  knowledge  upon  tradition.  Among  such 
people  this  method  is  more  likely  to  produce  effect  than  any 
other,  if  we  except  the  allegorical,  for  it  professed,  as  Bishop 
Lowth  remarks,  not  to  dispute  but  to  command  ;  not  to 
persuade  but  to  compel.  It  conducts  men,  not  by  a  circuit 
of  argument,  but  leads  them  immediately  to  the  approba- 
tion and  practice  of  integrity  and  virtue.  In  order  to  render 
it  more  pleasing,  as  well  as  more  powerful,  the  instructors  of 
mankind  added  to  their  precepts  the  graces  of  harmony,  and 
illuminated  them  with  metaphors,  comparisons,  and  other 
embellishments  of  style.  It  prevailed  much  among  the 
Hebrews,  and  continued  to  the  latest  ages  of  their  literature. 
But  it  has  also  been  adopted  by  people  far  advanced  in 
refinement,  yea,  by  all  the  nations  upon  earth.  ^  The  prevail- 
ing characteristics  of  a  good  proverb,  are  brevity,  that  it  may 
be  easily  remembered — point,  that  it  may  stimulate — and 
elegance,  that  it  may  please.  And  how  all  these  apply  to  the 
Proverbs  of  Solomon  you  know  full  well. 

Let  us  now  then  enter  on  a  consideration  of  this  admirable 
portion  of  Holy  Scripture. 

First.  We  will  consider  its  Author.  It  opens  with 
ascribing  this  honor  to  Solomon.  The  tradition  of  the 
church  ascribes  the  Canticles  to  him,  as'its  author,  when  a 
young  man — the  Book  of  Proverbs  when  he  was  in  the  mid- 
dle of  life — and  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes  it  considers  to  be 
his  confessions  as  a  penitent,  mourning  over  his  dark  and 
winding  aberrations  from  the  path  of  truth  and  holiness. 

Several  of  the  early  sages,  or  wise  men,  of  Greece,  were 


188  THE    YOUNv&   man's    FRIEND. 

rendered  illustrious  by  a  few  well-known  maxims  :  but  how 
limited  was  their  wisdom  in  this  respect,  though  posterior  to 
Solomon,  to  that  which  blazed  forth  from  his  wonderful 
genius,  "  to  whom  God  gave  wisdom  and  understanding 
exceeding  much,  and  largeness  of  heart,  even  as  the  sand 
that  is  on  the  sea  shore.  And  Solomon's  wisdom  excelled 
all  the  wisdom  of  all  the  children  of  the  east  country,  and 
all  the  wisdom  of  Egypt : — and  his  fame  was  in  all  nations 
round  about  j  and  he  spake  three  thousand  proverbs,  and  his 
songs  were  a  thousand  and  five  "     1  Kings,  iv.  30-33. 

Considering  the  early  age  of  the  world  in  which  he  lived, 
he  was  probably  the  most  extraordinary  genius  that  ever 
appeared  on  our  earth.  "  Magnificence  was  his  identifying 
attribute.  And  alas,  alas,  for  the  weakness  of  humanity — 
the  dangers  of  knowledge — and  the  pride  of  intellect,  wealth, 
and  power — even  when  he  sinned,  as  most  awfully  he  did,  it 
was  with  a  high  hand,  on  a  large  scale,  and  with  a  kind  of 
royal  gusto  :•  he  did  not,  like  common  sinners,  sip  at  the  cup 
of  corruption,  but  drank  of  it,  '  deep  and  large,'  emptying  it 
to  the  dregs  :  and  when  he  suffered,  his  groans  seemed  to  be 
those  of  a  demi-god  in  torment.  He  stood  like  a  pyramid, 
the  shadow  he  cast  in  one  direction  was  equal  to  the  light 
he  received  in  the  other.  An  example  his  which  proves  that 
any  great  disproportion  between  gifts  and  graces,  renders 
the  former  as  fatal  as  a  knife  is  to  the  suicide,  or  the  power  of 
writing  to  the  forger.  We  ardently  hope  that  Solomon 
became  a  true  penitent.  But  if  he  did  not,  his  writings  so 
far  from  losing  their  value,  would  gain  new  force  ;  the  figure 
of  their  fallen  author  would  form  a  striking  frontispiece,  and 
these  solemn  warnings  would  receive  an  amen,  as  from  tho 
oaves  of  perdition.     A  slain  Solomon  ! — since  fell  Lucifer 


THE    BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  189 

the  son  of  the  morning,  what  more  impressive  proof  of  the 
power  of  evil."* 

It  is  clear  from  information  contained  in  the  book  itself, 
that  Solomon  did  not  publish  the  whole  during  his  life. 
The  latter  part,  from  the  twenty-fifth  chapter,  forming  an 
appendix,  was  collected  after  his  death  and  added  to  what 
appears  to  have  been  more  immediately  arranged  by  himself. 

What  a  production  for  one  mind  !  and  when  we  add  to 
this  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes,  we  stand  amascd  at  the  intel-< 
lect  which  could  have  poured  forth  such  a  fund  of  practical 
wisdom. 

Of  the  DIVINE  AUTHORITY  of  this  book  as  a  part  of  the 
inspired  Canon  there  can  exist  no  doubt.  It  is  frequently 
quoted  in  the  New  Testament,  and  was  evidently  considered 
by  the  apostles  as  a  treasure  of  revealed  morality.  Such 
indeed  it  is — a  mine  of  divine  wisdom  which  may  be  ever 
explored  and  worked  without  being  ever  exhausted.  What 
Cicero  said  of  Thucydides  applies  far  more  truly  to  this  work 
of  Solomon,  is  is  so  full  of  matter  that  it  comprises  as  many 
sentences  as  words. 

Secondly.  It  will  help  you,  my  young  friends,  better  to 
understand  this  book  if  you  consider  its  scope  and  design. 
"  All  Scripture  is  given  by  inspiration  of  God,  and  is  profita- 
ble for  doctrine,  for  reproof,  for  correction,  for  instruction  in 
righteousness,  that  the  man  of  God  may  be  thoroughly 
furnished  unto  all  good  works."  2  Tim.  iii,  16.  But  this 
is  a  description  of  the  Bible  as  a  whole,  and  not  of  each 
separate  part.  One  portion  may  be  more  full  in  doctrine, 
and  therefore  more  important  in  reference  to  this,  than  some 
others.     Another   portion  may  relate   more    specifically    to 

*  Giifilian's  "  Bards  of  the  Bible."  A  splendid  book,  which  I  most 
cordially  and  earnestly  recommend  to  the  young. 


190  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND 

practice,  and  have  more  value  as  a  ri^e  of  conduct,  than 
those  which  speak  only  of  doctrine.  We  go  for  information 
concerning  the  person,  mission,  and  work  of  Christ,  with 
the  way  of  pardon  and  salvation,  to  the  prophecies  of  Isaiah 
in  the  Old  Testament,  and  to  the  Gospels  and  Epistles  of  the 
apostles  in  the  New  Testament ;  but  the  Book  of  Proverbs, 
while  it  supplies  us  with  no  information,  or  but  a  dim  light 
on  these  momentous  topics,  furnishes  us  with  invaluable  rules 
for  our  conduct  in  life.  The  beauty,  force,  and  value  of 
these  admirable  maxims  lie  in  their  pradical  design  and 
character.  If  we  had  no  other  book  of  Scripture  than  this, 
in  vain  should  we  seek  here  for  a  solution  of  that  problem, 
"  How  shall  man  be  just  with  God,"  or  for  an  answer  to  that 
question,  "  What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved  .?"  But,  thanks  bo 
to  Grod,  we  have  other  portions  of  Holy  Writ,  and  having 
learnt  in  them  how  as  sinners  we  are  to  be  justified,  and  our 
peace  with  God  is  to  be  obtained,  we  come  back  to  this,  as 
well  as  to  others,  to  learn  how  the  pardoned  and  regenerated 
man  is  to  conduct  himself  in  all  his  various  relations,  situa- 
ations,  and  circumstances.  It  is  wholly  a  practical  book, 
and  teaches  us  "  to  deny  ungodliness  and  worldly  lusts,  and 
to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly,  in  the  present  evil 
world."  Nor  is  this  to  be  thought  a  low  grade  in  the  Divine 
scheme  of  revelation.  The  truth  as  it  is  in  Jesus  is  "  a 
doctrine  according  to  godliness."  Holy  living  is  the  end 
of  all  truth — "  Sanctify  them,"  prayed  our  Lord  for  his 
apostles,  "  by  thy  truth."  The  grand  scope  of  the  Prov- 
erbs then  is,  and  can  God  propose,  or  man  conceive,  a 
higher  ?  to  explain  the  nature  of  true  wisdom — to  shew  its 
importance — to  demonstrate  its  necessity — to  urge  its  acquisition 
— and  to  enforce  its  practice. 

How  lofty  a  place  among  the  objects  of  human  pursuit  ha» 


THE     BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  191 

been  assigned  to  wisdom.  What  a  stir  in  the  world  of 
mind  has  that  word  made  through  all  ages,  from  the  history 
of  Egypt  to  that  of  Greece.  All  the  most  gifted  intellects 
of  antiquity  have  started  in  quest  of  this  most  precious 
acquisition.  Every  country  has  been  visited — every  oracle 
consulted — every  source  of  information  explored,  to  find  out 
wisdom.  Yet  all  have  been  searched  in  vain,  as  long  as  the 
inquiry  was  conducted  by  unaided  reason.  When  Pythagoras 
was  complimented  by  the  tyrant  of  Syracuse  as  the  m^eman, 
he  modestly  refused  the  flattery,  declaring  that  he  was  not 
the  possessor  of  wisdom,  but  only  its  lover  seeking  after  it — 
a  philosopher.  You  may  see  this  subject  finely  illustrated  in 
the  Book  of  Job,  where  in  that  wonderfully  sublime  portion 
of  Scripture  and  in  one  of  the  sublimest  of  its  chapters,  the 
twenty-eighth,  we  find  the  question  proposed  for  the  solu- 
tion of  the  universe,  "  W/iere  shall  wisdom  he  founds  and 
what  is  the  place  of  understanding  ?"  And  when  man 
through  ignorance  is  silent — and  the  depth  says,  It  is  not  in 
me — and  death  and  destruction  reply  that  they  have  only 
heard  the  fame  thereof — then  cometh  forth  God  from  his 
pavilion  of  darkness  as  the  divine  teacher  of  wisdom  :  and 
what  is  it  that,  after  all  the  researches  and  opinions  and  con- 
flicting systems  of  philosophers,  He  proclaims  to  be  true 
wisdom  ?  Not  some  profound  secret  of  nature  which  had 
baffled  the  inquiries  of  philosophers.  Not  some  great  prin- 
ciple of  political  science  which  was  to  regulate  the  affairs  and 
change  the  destinies  of  empires.  Not  some  new  theory  of 
economic  potency,  which  was  to  direct  the  stream  of  com- 
merce and  open  new  sources  of  the  wealth  of  nations.  No  : 
these  were  not  the  sort  of  communications  most  suited  to  the 
grandeur  of  his  nature  or  the  exigencies  of  ours — "  To  man 
he  saith — Behold  the  fear  -f  the  Lordj  that  is  wisdom^  and 
9 


192  THE    YOUNG    xMAN  S  FRIEND. 

to  depart  from  evil^  that  is  understanding.'''^  It  required 
the  revelatioa  of  God  to  settle  this  quention,  "  What 
is  wisdom  ?" — and  he  has  settled  it  once  and  for  ever. 
This  wisdom  is  Religion.  This  is  man's  highest  wisdom  as  a 
rational,  moral,  and  immortal  creature.  It  is  his  wisdom  on 
earth  and  will  be  his  wisdom  in  heaven.  It  is  his  wisdom  in 
time  and  will  be  his  wisdom  through  all  eternity.  Philosophers 
of  every  country,  hear  it !  Shades  of  Pythagoras — Socrates 
— Plato — hear  it !  Divines  and  moralists,  hear  it !  And  ye, 
young  men,  the  objects  of  my  solicitude  and  my  address, 
hear  it  !  The  fear  of  the  Lord  that  is  wisdom^  and  to  de~ 
part  from  evil,  that  is  understanding. 

This  is  the  subject  and  design  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs, 
It  opens  with  this  glorious  theme,  and  continues  it  through- 
out the  book,  where  wisdom  herself,  by  a  beautiful  personi- 
fication, is  represented  as  disclosing  her  own  nature  and 
teaching  her  own  lessons,  in  piety  towards  God — and  all  the 
moralities — the  charities — the  amenities — and  courtesies  of 
social  and  domestic  life.  Here  the  basis  of  all  sound  morality 
is  laid  in  the  fear  of  God.  On  this  broad,  deep  foundation  of 
religion,  is  raised  a  superstructure  of  morals,  which  combines 
the  duties  and  the  excellencies  of  the  good  monarch — the  good 
subject — the  good  neighbor — the  good  master — the  good 
husband — the  good  son — the  good  servant. 

Thirdly.  It  may  help  you  better  to  understand  thia 
extraordinary  book  if  you  are  enabled  to  perceive  the  parts 
into  which  it  is  divided  ;  and  which  though  not  very  notice- 
able by  a  superficial  glance,  yet  really  exist.  These  parts  are 
three.  The  first  includes  the  nine  first  chapters,  in  which 
wisdom,  or  the  practical  knowledge  of  God,  is  setfoitb  with 
great  copiousness  and  variety  of  expression  as  the  Oiily  source 
and  foundation  of  true  virtue  and  happiness.     Thiy.  portion 


THE    BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  198 

seems  to  be  principally  addressed  to,  and  intended  for,  youth. 
The  sins,  temptations,  and  dangers,  incident  to  this  period 
of  life  are  exhibited  in  the  most  striking  descriptions — the  most 
glowing  colors.  All  the  beauties  of  diction  and  of  metaphor 
—all  the  charms  of  eloquence  and  the  ornaments  of  poetry 
— all  the  persuasions  of  tenderness — all  the  expostulations  of 
love — and  all  the  commands  of  authority,  are  employed  to 
induce  the  young  man  to  turn  away  from  sin  and  to  practice 
holiness.*  This  part  may  be  designated  "  A  manual  for 
youthy 

The  second  part  extends  from  the  tenth  to  the  end  of  the 
twenty-fourth  chapter,  and  comprises  precepts  which  seem 
intended  for  those  who  have  advanced  from  youth  to  man- 
hood—precepts relating  to  all  the  details  of  social  life.  Here 
the  transactions  of  secuUr  business  are  alluded  to,  and  the 
whatsoever  things  are  true,  and  just,  and  honest,  and  pure, 
and  lovely,  and  of  good  report,  arc  stated  with  a  minuteness, 
and  enforced  with  an  earnestness,  that  are  most  edifying  and 
impressive.  This  may  be  called  "  TIi£,  tradesman^  direc- 
tory.'*'^ 

The  third  part  begins  at  the  twenty-fifth  chapter  and  goes 
on  to  the  end  of  the  book,  and  contains  the  appendix  of  mis- 
cellaneous Proverbs,  collected  after  Solomon's  death.  The 
two  last  chapters  having  been  written  very  probably  by 
separate  hands,  but  preserved  by  Divine  care,  and  under 
Divine  inspiration  were  added  to  the  sacred  canon.     And 

*  Mr.  Bridges,  whose  admirable  exposition  of  the  Proverbs  supplies 
a  few  of  the  remarks  of  this  sermon,  has  published  the  first  nine  chap- 
ters of  his  work,  separated  from  the  rest,  which  he  entitles  "  A  Manual 
for  Youth,"  which  I  most  strenuously  recommend  as  an  admirable 
guide  for  young  men. 


194  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

this  may  not  inappropriately  be  called  "  JL  mirror  for 
females.''^ 

Fourthly.  But  let  us  now  enter  upon  a  general,  and  it 
can  be  but  general,  examination  of  the  conteiits  of  this  book. 

1.  I  would  direct  your  attention  first  of  all  to  the  very 
appropriate  and  impressive  terms  which  Solojnon  has  selected ^ 
nnder  the  direction  of  the  Spirit  of  God^  to  set  forth  the  prin- 
cipal subjects  of  the  book, — I  mean  folly  and  wisdom. 
These  two  words  are  of  course  to  be  understood  in  a  practical 
sense,  as  referring  to  moral  rather  than  intellectual  subjects, 
— as  designating  indeed,  sin  and  holiness.  By  the  fool  we 
are  to  understand  not  the  man  of  weak  understanding,  but 
of  bad  heart  and  vicious  conduct :  and  by  the  wise  man, 
not  the  individual  of  large  knowledge,  but  of  genuine  religion. 
It  is  true  in  many  places  wisdom  and  folly  are  employed  by 
the  writer  to  denote  the  deficiency  or  the  exhibition  of  general 
excellence,  in  their  specific  branches  and  details  :  but  their 
generic  meaning  is  sin  or  wickedness.  This  is  plain  from 
that  admirable  definition,  "The  fear  of  the  Lord  is  the 
beginning  of  wisdom,"  and  from  that  other  text  of  an  oppo- 
site nature;  "Fools  make  a  mock  of  sin,"  All  sin  is  not 
only  wicked,  but  it  is  foolish  ;  and  every  sinner,  whatever  may 
be  his  intellectual  attainments,  is  not  only  a  transgressor,  but 
a  fool.  Nothing  is  considered  more  reproachful  than  this 
appellative  ;  hence  many,  more  jealous  for  their  intellect  than 
for  their  heart,  would  rather  be  called  a  knave  than  a  fool. 
Sin  then  is  folly — it  is  declared  so  by  God — it  is  thought  so  by 
all  holy  angels  and  men,  and  is  proved  to  be  such  by  the  expe- 
rience of  mankind  in  the  consequences  of  poverty,  disease, 
shame,  and  misery,  which  it  often  brings  after  it  in  this 
world,  and  the  certain  destruction  with  which  it  is  followed 
in  the  world  to  come.     Look  at  the  prodigal,  wasting  his 


4 


THE    BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  193 

substance  among  Larlots  and  in  riotous  living — the  idle  profli- 
gate— the  extravagant  spendthrift — the  besotted  drunkard — 
the  diseased  debauchee — the  dishonest  servant — the  mad- 
dened gamester — how  wicked  is  their  conduct — yes,  but  how 
foolish  also  !  Is  it  not  folly  to  wage  war  against  heaven — 
to  contend  with  the  Almighty — to  barter  away  the  joys  of 
immortality  for  the  pleasures  of  sin,  which  are  but  for  a 
season  ;  and  for  the  gratification  of  a  moment  to  incur  the 
bitter  pains  of  eternal  death  ?  On  the  other  hand,  if  there 
be  holiness  in  religion,  there  is  also  wisdom.  To  secure  the 
favor  of  Grod — to  be  saved  by  Christ — to  have  a  title  to 
eternal  glory — to  have  peace  of  conscience — to  control  the 
passions — to  be  comforted  in  sorrow — to  secure  the  germ  of 
every  virtue,  and  the  death  of  every  corruption — in  short  to 
be  wise  unto  salvation  hereafter,  and  to  have  that  which  will 
best  promote  all  our  interests  here — is  to  be  wise  indeed. 
This  is  the  truest,  the  noblest,  the  only  wisdom.  What  is 
the  wisdom  displayed  in  amassing  wealth,  acquiring  fame,  or 
gratifying  appetite,  compared  with  this }  Surely  that  must 
be  the  deepest  of  folly  which  ruins  estate,  body  and  soul — 
and  that  the  highest  wi:sdom  which  saves  all. 

II.  I  next  select  a  few  single  Proverbs  for  the  sake  of 
holding  them  up  and  showing  their  beauty  and  their  value. 
And  here  I  can  but  pluck  a  few  flowers  at  random  from  a 
garden  which  is  enlivened  by  the  bloom,  and  perfumed  with 
the  odor  of  a  thousand  others,  as  beautiful  and  as  fra- 
grant as  those  I  gather.  How  tender  and  how  lovely  are 
such  sayings  as  these.  "  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the 
shining  light,  which  shineth  more  and  more  unto  the  perfect 
day."  "  The  memory  of  the  just  is  blessed."  "  The  mouth 
of  the  righteous  is  a  well  of  life."  "  Hope  deferred  maketh 
the  heart  sick."     "  The  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness, 


196  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

and  a  stranger  intermeddleth  not  with  its  joy."  A  merry 
heart  doeth  good  like  a  medicine."  "  Even  in  laughter  the 
heart  is  sorrowful,  and  the  end  of  that  mirth  is  heaviness." 
"  Better  is  a  dinner  of  herbs,  where  love  is,  than  a  stalled  ox, 
and  hatred  therewith."  "The  beginning  of  strife  is  as  the 
letting  out  of  water,  therefore  leave  off  contention  before  it 
is  meddled  with."  "  Faithful  are  the  wounds  of  a  friend, 
but  the  kisses  of  an  enemy  are  deceitful."  "  As  a  bird  that 
wandereth  from  her  nest,  so  is  the  man  that  wandereth  from 
his  place."  "  As  iron  sharpeneth  iron,  so  doth  the  counte- 
nance of  a  man  his  friend."  "  A  foolish  son  is  the  grief  of 
father,  and  bitterness  to  her  that  bare  him."  "  Open  rebuke 
is  better  than  secret  love."  Such  are  but  specimens,  taken 
almost  at  random  from  this  vast  and  all  but  inexhaustible 
storehouse  of  wisdom.  What  mind  of  the  least  perception 
or  taste  must  not,  does  not,  admire  the  point  and  the 
elegance  of  these  beautiful  aphorisms. 

1  can  only  allude  to  the  principal  topics  on  which  the 
wisdom  of  Solomon  was  employed  in  this  collection  of  golden 
sentences.  Here  are  innumerable  sayings  on  all  the  duties  of 
religion  towards  God,  on  filial  affection,  on  the  right  use  of 
speech  and  the  government  of  the  tongue — on  ability,  dili- 
gence, industry,  honesty,  and  honor  in  trade — on  prudence 
in  domestic  affairs — on  friendship  and  companionship — on 
forethought  and  anticipation  of  the  future — on  covenants 
and  suretyship — on  the  obligations  of  kings  and  subjects,  of 
husbands  and  wives,  of  masters  and  servants — ^yea,  on  what 
subject  connected  with  social  existence,  not  only  in  its 
greater  concerns,  but  in  all  its  minute  and  delicate  ramifi- 
cations, may  we  not  find  some  sententious  remark,  some 
pithy  saying,  which  remembered,  would  be  of  vast  service  to 
U8.     Rules  for  the  house  of  God,  for  our  own  habitations, 


THE    BOOK    OF    I'ilOVElinS.  19*7 

for  the  shop,  the  pailoi",  and  even  ihe  kitchen,  may  all  be 
found  here.  The  character  of  every  individual,  whatever  be 
his  rank,  station,  or  social  relation,  may  find  a  mould  here  in 
which  it  may  be  cast,  and  from  which  it  would  come  forth 
beautiful,  useful,  and  admirable. 

III.  But  leaving  particular  and  isolated  proverbs,  I  go  on 
to  select  and  exhibit  a  few  of  the  beautiful  allegories^  or 
yerha'ps  more  properly,  personifications,  which  are  scattered 
over  this  wondrous  hook.  Metaphors  and  similes  abound,  in 
seemingly  grand  and  endless  confusion,  like  the  single  stara 
of  the  firmament  ;  while  allegories  which  are  but  extended 
metaphors,  are  to  be  seen  here  and  there  standing  out  like  a 
magnificent  constellation  amidst  the  single  stars. 

I  can  mention  only  two  or  three  of  these,  for  they  are  too 
numerous  to  be  all  of  them  considered.  Solomon  seemed  to 
delight  in  the  use  of  the  allegory.  And  first  of  all,  let  me 
direct  your  attention  to  the  personification  of  religion  in  the 
first  chapter.  "  Wisdom  crieth  without,  she  uttereth  ber 
voice  in  the  streets  ;  she  crieth  in  the  chief  place  of  con- 
course, in  the  openings  of  the  gates  :  in  the  city  she  uttereth 
her  words.  How  long,  ye  simple  ones,  will  ye  love  simpli- 
city, and  the  scorners  delight  in  their  scorning,  and  fools 
hate  knowledge  ^  Turn  ye  at  my  reproof ;  behold  I  will 
pour  out  my  Spirit  upon  you,  I  will  make  known  my  words 
to  you." — Chap.  i.  20—23.  How  finely  is  this  wrought,  when 
religion  is  thus  seen,  not  retiring  to  the  cloister  or  the  cell, 
not  even  confined  to  places  of  worship — but  going  through 
the  streets,  standing  in  the  gates,  entering  into  public  assem- 
blies, and  delivering  her  instructions,  breathing  out  her 
expostulations,  urging  her  counsels,  administering  her  re- 
bukes, and  denouncing  her  threatenings,  to  the  congregated 
multitudes — ihe  ma.ss  of  the  people. 


108  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

Nothing  can  be  conceived  more  apt,  or  more  beautiful,  ot 
more  sublime,  than  that  personification  of  Wisdom,  which  he 
introduces  in  the  eighth  chapter,  exhibiting  her  not  only  as  the 
director  of  human  life  and  morals,  as  the  inventor  of  arts,  as 
the  dispenser  of  wealth,  of  honor,  and  of  real  felicity,  but 
as  the  immortal  offspring  of  the  Omnipotent  Creator,  and  as 
the  eternal  associate  in  the  Divine  counsels. 

"  When  he  prepared  the  heavens,  I  was  present  ; 
When  he  described  a  circle  on  the  face  of  the  deep : 
When  he  disposed  the  atmosphere  above  ; 
When  he  established  the  fountains  of  the  deep  ; 
When  he  published  his  decree  to  the  sea, 
That  the  vi^aters  should  not  pass  their  bound  ; 
When  he  planned  the  foundations  of  the  earth; 
Then  was  1  by  him  as  his  otfspring  ; 
And  I  was  daily  his  delight  ; 
I  rejoiced  continually  belore  him. 
I  rejoiced  in  the  habitable  parts  of  the  earth, 
And  my  delights  were  with  the  sons  of  men."* 

"It  is  a  difficult  thiug  to  personify  an  attribute  well ;  and 
to  sustain  it  through  a  simile  or  an  apostrophe  is  not  easy ; 
but  to  supply  a  long  monologue  for  the  lips  of  Eternal 
Wisdom  !  This  has  Solomon  done,  and  not  degraded  the 
mighty  theme. ""f 

Turn  now  to  another  of  these  beautiful  personifications, 
to  one  which  will  come  more  home  to  your  own  condition 
and  circumstances. 

"Happy  is  the  man  that  findeth  wisdom,  and  the  man  that  getteth 
understanding. 

*  Proverbs  viii.  27-31,  Lowth's  Translation.  I  must  express  my 
entire  conviction  that  this  chapter  is  intended  as  a  personification  oi 
wisdom,  and  not  as  a  prophetic  desc-iption  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Chiist 

t  GiJfillan. 


THK    BOOK    OF    TROVERBS.  199 

"For  the  merchandize  thereof  is  bet-^^r  than  the  merchandize  (A 
silver,  and  the  gain  thereof  than  fine  gold. 

"  She  is  more  precious  than  rubies,  and  all  the  things  thou  canst  de- 
sire are  not  to  be  compared  unto  her. 

''  Length  of  days  in  her  right  hand,  and  in  her  left  hand,  riches  ana 
honor. 

"  Her  ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness,  and  all  her  paths  peace. 

"  She  is  a  tree  of  life  to  them  that  lay  hold  upon  her ;  and  happy  is 
every  one  that  retaineth  her." — Chap.  iii.  13-18. 

Such,  Young  Men,  is  religion, — for  wisdom  you  know  is 
religion, — as  here  set  forth  by  a  striking  mixture  of  metaphor. 
She  is  represented  as  a  queen  coming  forth  from  her  palace 
and  her  treasury,  with  both  hands  full  of  blessings,  which 
she  is  holding  out,  ready  to  drop  them  into  the  lap  of  those 
who  will  submit  to  her  government,  and  become  her  subjects. 
To  represent  the  influence  of  religion,  even  on  the  interests 
of  earth  and  time,  she  holds  in  one  hand  health,  and  in  the 
other  riches  and  honor,  which  often  are  the  fruits  of  that 
godliness  which  is  profitable  for  all  things,  having  the  pro- 
mise of  the  life  that  now  is,  as  well  as  of  that  which  is  to 
come.  But  what  are  her  ways  ?  A  lonely  rugged  path 
across  sandy  deserts,  or  through  gloomy  passes  and  frowning 
precipices,  where  no  verdure  springs,  no  sun-beams  play,  no 
birds  carol,  and  where  neither  streams  nor  fruits  are  found  ? 
So  the  enemies  of  religion,  the  men  who  dwell  in  the  fools' 
paradise,  would  represent  :  but  how  difi'erent  the  description 
in  this  lovely  passage  !  This  tells  of  "  ways  of  pleasant7iesSy 
and  paths  of  peace.  "^^  It  is  indeed  a  narrow  and  somewhat 
toilsome  way,  but  every  step  is  lighted  by  the  bright  shining 
of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  ;  is  strewed  with  the  promises 
of  God  ;  is  a  step  of  happiness  ;  and  a  step  to  heaven.  Yes, 
even  what  are  called  the  austerities  of  religion  are  more  joj- 
9* 


200  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

ous  than  the  pleasures  of  sin.     The  yoke  of  Christ  is  far 
lighter  than  that  of  Satan. 

And  then,  the  tree  of  life — there,  in  that  wonderful 
ornament  and  glory  of  the  garden  of  Eden,  in  the  branches 
of  which  sung  the  birds  of  Paradise  ;  whose  roots  were 
watered  with  the  rivers  of  God  ;  in  whose  shade  Adam  basked, 
and  of  whose  fruits  he  ate  as  the  sacramental  pledge  of  im- 
mortality— there,  I  say,  is  the  emblem  of  heavenly  wisdom. 
She  is  a  tree  of  life,  growing  up  from  a  branch  brought  out 
of  Eden,  when  sin  had  barred  our  access  to  the  original 
stock,  and  caused  it  to  decay  ,  a  tree  whose  branches  bend 
down  upon  this  world  of  sin  and  misery,  and  whose  clusters 
hang  within  the  reach  of  even  the  youngest  child.  Young 
Men,  what  think  you  of  this  beautiful  description  of  wisdom's 
blessings  ?  It  is  no  fancy  picture — no  mere  creation  of 
human  genius — no  mere  poetic  garniture  of  the  page  of 
revelation.  How  many  that  hear  me  now  have  proved  all 
this  to  a  Divine  reality  ?  0,  come,  come,  to  this  tree  of 
life,  and  take  of  its  twelve  manner  of  fruits,  and  live. 

I  pass  by  with  only  one  glance  at  it,  the  personification  of 
wisdom  in  the  ninth  chapter,  building  her  house,  preparing 
her  feast,  and  sending  out  her  invitations  to  collect  her 
guests.  A  beautiful  representation  of  the  blessings  of  true 
religion. 

IV.  We  will  now  turn  to  a  few  of  those  grajphic  sketches 
of  character  with  which  the  book  abounds. 

1.  Scarcely  has  it  opened,  before  we  find  the  character  of 
the  Tempter  described  in  the  following  language  :  "  My  son, 
if  sinners  entice  thee,  consent  thou  not:  if  they  say,  Come 
with  us,  let  us  lay  wait  for  blood  ;  let  us  lurk  privily  for  the 
innocent  without  cause  ;  let  us  swallow  them  up  alive 
as  the  grave,  and  whole  as  they  that  go  down  to  the  pit :  we 


THE    BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  201 

sLall  find  all  precious  substance,  we  sball  fill  our  houses 
with  cpoil.  Cast  in  thy  lot  among  us,  let  us  all  have  one 
purse." — Chap.  i.  10.  How  true  this  is  to  the  life,  as  a 
description  of  the  conduct  of  those  who  tempt  others  to  evil. 
The  earnest  invitation,  the  secresy  of  the  plot,  the  prospect 
of  advantage,  the  promise  of  a  share  in  the  booty.  How 
accurate  !  It  is  true  that  in  your  situation  and  circum^ 
ctances  the  temptation  will  not  be  to  deeds  of  blood  and 
rapine — but  there  will  be  much  the  same  urgency  of  entice- 
ment, the  same  promise  and  prospects  of  gain,  and  the  same 
ensnaring  representation  of  companionship.  Sinners  are 
ruthless  and  zealous  in  the  dreadful  work  of  temptation — 
they  want  companions  to  assist  them  in  accomplishing  their 
evil  deeds,  and  sometimes  they  equally  need  and  earnestly 
seek  associates  to  maintain  their  courage.  Guilt,  till  its 
subject  becomes  hardened  and  desperate,  is  cowa»rdly,  and 
gets  rid  of  its  fears  by  multiplying  its  companions.  If 
sinners  then  entice  you,  do  not  yield,  or  even  hearken  to 
their  solicitations.  Consent  constitutes  the  sin.  Turn  a 
deaf  ear  to  every  entreaty.  Let  no  prospect  or  promise  of 
gain  or  pleasure,  induce  you  to  listen  for  a  moment  to  their 
solicitations.  Flee  from  them  as  you  would  from  a  serpent 
or  a  lion.  You  need  not  yield.  You  cannot  be  forced  to 
sin.  Repulse  the  tempter  at  once  and  with  a  frown.  Do 
not  parley  with  him  for  a  moment.  His  look  is  the  fascina- 
tion of  the  basilisk's  eye — his  words  are  snares — his  breath  is 
pestilence — his  presence  is  destruction.  The  moment  he 
asks  you  to  sin — flee — instantly  flee.  And  while  I  warn  you 
against  being  ensnared  by  the  tempter's  arts,  let  me  with 
gtill  more  emphatic  importunity,  entreat  you  never  to  em- 
ploy them.  No  character  is  so  like  that  of  Satan,  who  is 
called  by  way  of  eminence  the  Tempter,  as  he  who  en.tices 


202  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

another  to  sin.  This  is  the  most  truly  diabolical  act  ever 
perpetrated  in  our  world.  Turn  with  horror  from  the 
thought.  If  you  must  and  will  sin — sin  alone — have  no 
partner  in  your  crime.  If  you  will  sink  to  the  bottomless 
pit,  drag  no  others  down  with  you  into  that  fiery  gulf. 
Emulate  not  the  fate  of  Achan,  of  whom  it  is  said,  "  This 
man  perished  not  alone  in  his  iniquity."  What  an  eternity 
of  torment  is  that  man  preparing  for  himself  as  well  as  for 
others,  who  is  ruining  the  souls  of  his  fellow-creatures  by 
solicitinor  them  to  sin.  How  will  those  victims  of  his  wiles 
avenge  themselves  upon  him  by  their  execrations  in  the 
world  of  woe. 

Next  I  direct  you  to  a  very  striking  description  of  the 
Tempted. 

I  can  only  allude,  delicacy  forbids  more,  to  the  vivid 
description  of  the  unwary  youth  caught  in  the  snares  of  the 
abandoned  woman,  contained  in  the  seventh  chapter.  This 
picture  is  to  be  looked  at  with  half-averted  eye,  for  warning, 
but  not  for  gratification.  It  is  painted  with  a  master's  hand, 
and  with  exquisite  fidelity  of  color.  Was  ever  the  harlot's 
likeness  more  accurately  taken  ?  The  late  hours  of  the 
evening  for  her  sallying  forth  in  quest  of  her  prey — her 
position  at  the  corner  of  the  street — her  meretricious  attire 
— her  tempting  speech — her  plausible  suggestions — her  im- 
pudent face — all  show  the  harlot's  brazen  forehead.  There 
is  no  vice  against  which  you  have  more  need  to  be  warned 
than  sensuality.  It  is  that  to  which  your  age,  your  situation, 
and  your  temptations  expose  you.  Imitate  the  conduct  of 
that  noble  youth  whose  character  we  contemplated  in  our 
last  discourse,  and  say,  when  tempted  to  sin,  "  How  shall  1 
do  this  great  wickedness  and  sin  agaiiist  God  ? 

How  true  is  human  nature,  even  in  its   corruptions,  tc 


THE     BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  203 

itself.  The  corners  of  the  streets  of  our  modern  towns  and 
cities,  as  others  did  in  Solomon's  time,  exhibit  the  same 
night  scenes  now.  Three  thousand  years  with  all  their 
warnings  and  experience  have  not  banished  the  "  strange 
woman"  from  society,  nor  driven  the  female  tempter  from 
our  streets.  Everything  in  the  description  of  this  case  is 
impressive  and  instructive.  Trace  the  sad  end  as  set  forth 
here  to  its  beginning.  Was  not  idleness  the  parent  of  tim 
mischief.?  The  loitering  evening  walk — the  unseasonable 
hour — the  vacant  mind — all  bringing  the  youth  into  contact 
with  evil  company,  was  not  all  this  courting  sin — temptino' 
the  tempter  ?  How  awfully  true  the  representation  of  the 
tempter's  success,  "  He  goeth  after  her  straightway  as  an  ox 
goeth  to  the  slaughter,"  unconscious  of  his  fate  ;  perhaps 
dreaming  of  rich  pasture  ;  or,  "  as  a  fool  to  the  correction 
of  the  stocks,"  careless  and  unfeeling,  "  till  the  dart  strike 
through  his  liver,"  or  "  as  a  bird  hasteth  to  the  snare  and 
knoweth  not  that  it  is  for  his  life."  Young  men,  set  a  guard 
upon  your  senses.  Go  not  in  the  way  of  sin.  Enter  deeply 
into  our  Lord's  beautiful  petition,  "  Lead  us  not  into  temp- 
tation." He  that  would  not  fall  into  sin,  must  not  go  into 
the  way  of  temptation.  Keep  from  the  harlot's  company, 
and  speech,  and  private  haunt,  and  public  walk,  as  you 
would  from  contact  with  a  person  infected  with  the  plague. 
I  now  direct  you  to  the  description  o^  the  end  of  the  pro- 
fligate ;  who  after  running  his  course  of  dissipation,  looks 
back  with  remorse  and  regret,  anjidst  poverty  and  disease, 
upon  his  polluted  and  ruinous  career  :  "  And  thou  mourn  at 
last  lohen  thy  flesh  and  thy  body  are  consuvied^  and  say.  How 
have  I  hated  instruction,  and  my  heart  despised  reproof ; 
and  have  not  obeyed  the  voice  of  my  teachers,  nor  inclined 
mine  ear  to  them  that  have  instructed  me.     I  was  in  almost 


204  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

all  evil  iu  the  midst  of  the  congregation  and  assembly." 
Chap.  V.  11-14.  Here  is  the  fruit  of  sensuality  sot  forth  in 
awful  terms.  Disease  preying  like  worms  upon  the  body, 
and  remorse,  like  a  vulture,  gnawing  at  the  heart.  Yes, 
there  are  sins  which  set  their  loathsome  brand  upon  the  outer 
man,  while  they  fill  with  the  poison  of  their  guilt  the  inner 
one  :  sins  which  pollute  the  blood — disfigure  the  countenance 
— destroy  the  health — and  turn  the  whole  frame  into  a  mass 
of  corruption.  How  many  martyrs  of  intemperance  and 
licentiousness  prove  by  a  bitter  experience  the  truth  of  the 
apostle's  words,  '*  He  that  soweth  to  the  flesh  shall  of  the 
flesh  reap  corruption  ;"  and  realise  the  description  of  Zophar, 
"His  bones  are  full  of  the  sins  of  his  youth,  which  lie  down 
with  him  in  the  dust."  Oh,  to  sit  down  amidst  wasted 
fortunes,  with  a  body  half  murdered  by  profligacy,  and  the 
voice  of  conscience  telling  of  slighted  opportunities,  abused 
privileges,  stifled  convictions.  Young  men,  think  of  this 
"  mourning  at  last,"  when  it  will  be  too  late  to  mourn,  and 
when  the  mourning  will  be  the  more  bitter,  the  longer  it  is 
delayed.  Impenitence  does  not  put  away  sorrow,  but  only 
postpones  it  to  a  future  period,  when  mercy  shall  have  fled 
for  ever,  and  nothing  remain  but  a  fearful  recollection  of 
past  sins  and  a  still  more  fearful  foreboding  of  wrath  to  come. 
How  will  neglected  warnings,  despised  sermons,  and  slighted 
oounscls,  then  rise  like  spectres  from  the  grave  of  oblivion, 
each  repeating  that  dreadful  sarcasm,  "  Son^  remember.''^ 

I  hold  up  now  another  portraiture,  I  mean  that  of  the 
Drunkard.  "  Who  hath  woe  ?  Who  hath  sorrow  ? 
Who  hath  contentions  ?  Who  hath  babblings  }  Who  hath 
wounds  without  cause  ?  Who  hath  redness  of  eyes  ?  They 
that  tarry  long  at  the  wine  ;  they  that  go  to  seek  mixed  wine. 
Look  not  thou  upon  the  wine  when  it  is  red,  when  it  giveth  it? 


THE    BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  205 

color  in  the  cup,  when  it  movoth  itself  aright.  At  the  last 
it  biteth  like  a  serpent,  and  stingeth  like  an  adder.  Thine 
eyes  shall  behold  strange  women,  and  thine  -heart  shall  utter 
perverse  things.  Yea,  thou  shalt  be  as  he  that  lieth  down 
in  the  midst  of  the  sea,  or  as  he  that  lieth  upon  the  top  of  a 
mast.  They  have  stricken  me,  shalt  thou  say,  and  I  was  not 
sick  ;  they  have  beaten  me,  and  I  felt  it  not :  when  shall  I 
awake  ?     I  will  seek  it  yet  again." — Chap,  xxiii.  29-35. 

This  is  perhaps  the  most  graphic  and  vivid  description  of 
inebriety  ever  yet  given  to  the  world.  The  drawing  is 
perfect,  and  not  less  so  the  coloring.  It  has  been  often 
called,  and  with  great  truth  and  justice,  ''  the  drunkard's 
looking-glass,. in  which  he  may  see  his  own  face."  It  is  said 
that  amidst  all  the  splendid  furpiture  and  ornaments  of  our 
gin  palaces,  the  mirror  is  not  found  :  the  vendors  of  poison 
not  being  very  willing  that  the  miserable  victims  should  see 
their  own  suicidal  act,  in  gulping  the  fatal  dram,  reflected. 
In  default  of  a  looking-glass,  I  wish  they  could  be  compelled 
to  have  this  passage  painted  in  large  and  flaming  characters, 
and  hung  up  in  the  most  conspicuous  place  of  these  human 
slaughter  houses.  Observe  the  description  of  the  drunkard. 
The  quarrelsome  temper  which  liquor  produces — the  fights  in 
which  it  involves  the  man  who  quaffs  it,  and  the  wounds  he 
gets  in  his  afi'rays — his  babbling  discourse  on  subjects  which 
he  does  not  understand  and  is  then  unfitted  to  discuss,  when 
blasphemy  is  wit,  treason  courage,  and  ribaldry  eloquence — 
his  going  on,  when  inflamed  by  wine,  to  the  gratification  of 
other  lusts,  and  the  commission  of  other  sins — his  insensibi- 
lity to  injury  and  danger  when  his  brain  is  stupified — his  re- 
turning to  the  indulgence  of  his  vicious  appetite  when  awak- 
ening up  from  his  drunken  slumber — his  intense  misery  and 
woe  produced  by  his  remorse  of  mind  and   wretchedness  of 


206  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

body — these  are  all  set  forth  in  this  wonderful  passage  with 
a  graphic  power  that  nothing  can  exceed. 

Begin  life,  Young  Men,  with  an  extreme  dread  of  this 
vice.  There  is  ground  for  alarm.  Drunkenness  was  never 
more  prevalent  than  it  is  now.  Myriads  and  myriads  sink 
every  year  into  the  drunkard's  grave,  and  lower  still,  into  the 
drunkard's  hell.  One  half  of  the  lunacy — two-thirds  of  the 
pauperism — and  three-fourths  of  the  crime  of  society,  are 
said  to  spring  from  this  desolating  habit.  Beware  then  of 
this  dreadful  appetite  and  propensity.  Be  afraid  of  it.  Con- 
sider yourselves  liable  to  it.  x^bandon  all  self-confidencee. 
Avoid  everything  that  leads  to  drinking.  Abjure  tobacco  in 
every  shape — shun  bad  company — never  cross  the  threshold 
of  the  tavern  for  the  purpose  of  conviviality.  Practise  total 
abstinence.  All  the  drunkards  that  are,  or  ever  have  been, 
were  moderate  men  once.  I  do  most  earnestly  entreat  you 
to  abstain  from  all  intoxicating  drinks.  You  do  not  need 
them  for  health,  and  to  take  them  for  gratification  is  the 
germ  of  inebriety.  Total  abstinence  will  conduce  to  health 
—to  economy — to  prosperity.  You  will  one  day  bless  me  if 
this  discourse  should  lead  you  to  adopt  this  practice.  I  do 
not  say  that  this  will  ensure  the  practice  of  every  virtue  and 
the  enjoyment  of  all  prosperity,  but  1  know  nothing  in  the 
order  of  preparatory  means  more  likely  to  be  followed  with 
such  results. 

And  now  I  ask,  what  is  it  that  leads  to  all  other  sins  } 
Idleness — and  I  therefore  now  direct  you  to  the  last  picture 
which  1  shall  present  this  evening.  "  I  went  by  the  field  of 
the  slothful,  and  by  the  vineyard  of  the  man  void  of  under- 
standing, and,  lo,  it  was  all  grown  over  with  thorns,  and 
nettles  had  covered  the  face  thereof,  and  the  stone  wall 
thereof  was  broken  down.      Then  I  saw  and  considered  it 


THE    BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  207 

well  ;  I  looked  upon  it  and  received  instruction  Yet  a  little 
sleep,  a  little  slumber,  a  little  folding  of  the  hands  to  sleep ; 
so  shall  thy  poverty  come  as  one  that  travelleth,  and  thy 
want  as  an  armed  man."     Chap.  xxiv.  30-34 

This,  too,  is  fine  painting  :  the  late  riser,  the  lover  of 
deep,  the  drowsy  drone,  lifting  up  his  half-opened  lids 
weighed  down  with  sleep — grumbliug  at  the  person  who  has 
disturbed  him,  turning  away  from  him  on  his  bed — and  then 
settling  himself  down  again  to  slumber.  And  then  the 
broken  fence  left  without  repair — the  thorns  and  nettles 
covering  the  field  and  choking  the  vineyard.  How  true  to 
life.  Idleness  is  a  complicated  vice — yes,  I  say  vice.  First 
it  is  a  most  wasteful  habit — it  wastes  time,  which  is  more 
precious  than  rubies — it  wastes  a  man's  mental  faculties,  and 
dooms  the  noblest  machine  on  earth  to  stand  still — it  wastes 
property,  and  should  compel  the  sluggard  to  put  down  in  his 
expenses  a  large  sum  per  annum  lost  by  neglect.  It  is  dis- 
graceful, for  how  reproachful  is  it  in  a  being  made  to  be 
active,  to  spend  life  in  doing  nothing,  and  to  throw  away  his 
mental  powers  in  sloth.  It  is  criminal^  for  God  has  com- 
manded us  to  be  active  ;  and  will  call  us  to  account  for 
the  sin  of  killing  time.  It  is  dangerous^  doing  nothing 
is  next  to  doing  ill,  and  is  sure  to  lead  to  it.  From  its 
very  inaction  it  ultimately  becomes  the  active  cause  of  all 
evil  ;  as  a  palsy  is  more  to  be  dreaded  than  a  fever.  The 
Turks  have  a  proverb  which  says,  "  The  Devil  tempts  all 
other  men  ;  but  the  idle  man  tempts  the  Devil.''''  Idleness  is 
the  stagnant  pool  that  deposits  mud  and  breeds  all  kinds  of 
vermin ;  but  running  water  is  clear,  sweet,  and  wholesome. 
Idleness  is  wretchedness.  An  idle  man,  as  I  said  in  a  former 
discourse,  is  the  most  miserable  of  all  God's  creatures  :  and 
woe  be  to  the  man  who  is  doomed  to  bear  the  pain  and 


208  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

penalties  of  a  slothful  disposition.  Employment  is  not  onlj 
a  source  of  excellence,  but  of  enjoyment.  Young  Men,  bo 
industrious.  It  will  be  a  source  at  once  of  pleasure  and 
profit.  If  you  study  the  Book  of  Proverbs  for  nothing  else, 
study  it  for  the  purpose  of  promoting  industry.  I  give  it  as 
my  decided  opinion,  that  no  man  who  ever  made  this  book 
the  subject  of  his  study  and  the  rule  of  his  life,  failed  to 
ensure  a  competency  ;  while  multitudes  who  have  acted  thus 
have  attained  to  respectability,  honor,  and  wealth. 

Let  me  now,  in  conclusion,  enumerate  a  few  general 
points,  which  are  suggested  by  a  consideration  of  this  inte- 
resting portion  of  holy  Scripture. 

I.  We  see  the  benevolence  of  God^  in  not  only  providing 
the  means  for  our  glory,  honor,  immortality,  and  eternal  life 
in  heaven,  through  the  mediation  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
but  in  giving  us  in  this  valuable  book,  the  most  minute 
directions  for  all  the  details  of  our  earthly  abode.  He  not 
only  wills  our  salvation  hereafter,  but  our  convenience  and 
comfort  here.  He  acts  like  a  good  and  rich  father,  who, 
while  he  makes  his  son  heir  of  all  his  estate,  consults  in  the 
minutest  particulars  all  his  well-being  and  enjoyment  through 
the  period  of  his  boyhood  and  education.  How  exquisitely 
beautiful  is  it  to  see  God  thus  managing  our  mean  affairs — 
intent  even  upon  our  success  in  trade — promoting  our  plea- 
sant intercourse  with  our  neighbors — providing  rules  for  our 
conduct  every  where — and  supplying  us  with  the  means  to 
secure  a  thousand  little  enjoyments,  and  to  protect  ourselves 
from  a  thousand  little  annoyances  on  our  road  to  our 
Father's  house  in  heaven.  To  me  the  Book  of  Proverbs 
proves  the  minuteness  and  delicacy  of  God's  goodness,  while 
the  Gospels  and  Epistles  of  the  New  Testament,  exhibit  its 
grandeur  and  sublimity. 


THE    BOOK   OF    TUOVEUBS.  20S 

II.  Arising  out  of  this,  I  would  observe,  what  an  inesti- 
mable voluvie  and  priceless  treasure  is  the  Bihle,  which  thus 
'proclaims  to  us  the  goodness  of  God^  and  carries  out  His 
gracious  purpose  towards  us.  I  want,  young  men,  to  endear 
to  your  hearts  this  book  of  books,  and  therefore  will  embrace 
every  opportunity  presented  by  these  lectures,  to  commend 
it  to  your  attention  and  regard.  I  want  to  fortify  you 
agaiust  the  seductions  of  infidelity  and  false  philosophy.  I 
want  to  show  you  the  injustice  to  yourselves,  as  well  as  the 
wickedness  towards  God,  and  the  hypocrisy,  as  well  as  the 
cruelty,  of  those  who  under  the  pretext  of  liberating  your 
mind  from  thraldom,  and  exalting  you  to  the  dignity  of  men 
of  reason,  would  deliver  you  from  what  they  call  the  domi- 
nion of  superstition  and  the  trammels  of  the  Bible.  It  is 
their  delight  to  represent  the  Bible  as  teaching  only  a  system 
of  priestcraft  ;  as  prescribing  only  a  round  of  religious 
ceremonies  ;  and  forming  a  character  fit  only  to  dwell  in  a 
monastery,  or  to  worship  in  a  church.  Ask  them  if  they 
have  ever  deigned  to  read  the  Book  of  Proverbs.  If  not, 
they  are  unfit  to  pronounce  an  opinion  upon  the  Bible — and 
if  they  have,  tell  them  that  by  such  u.isrepresentations  they 
lie  against  their  own  knowledge — for  here  is  a  part  of  the 
Bible  which,  they  must  know,  follows  us  into  the  social 
haunts  of  men — to  the  family — to  the  shop — to  the  market 
and  exchange,  to  dictate  truth,  kindness,  and  meekness,  to 
our  words  ;  justice,  honesty,  and  honor,  to  our  transactions  ; 
which  regulates  all  sales  and  purchases  upon  the  principles 
of  equity  :  gives  validity  and  force  to  all  contracts  ;  prohibits 
all  wrong,  and  sustains  all  right.  A  single  perusal  of  this 
book  would  convince  them  that  if  it  were  universally  possess- 
ed, believed,  and  practised — human  laws  would  be  almost 
unnecessary,  courts  of  justice  would  be  forsaken,  and  jails 


210  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

untenanted.  Take  up  this  volume  with  the  simple  question, 
"  What  kind  of  man  shall  I  be  if  I  follow  the  rules  herein 
contained."  Hold  fast  your  Bibles  then,  till  infidelity  can  find 
you  a  better  rule  of  conduct  for  this  life — a  brighter  levela- 
tion,  and  a  surer  hope  for  another.  Ask  it  what  it  has  to 
ofier  you  in  exchange  for  doctrines  so  sublime — morality  so 
pure,  precepts  so  wise — promises  so  precious — prospects  so 
grand.  And  what  has  it  to  oficr  }  A  dreary,  blank,  and 
hideous  negative — no  Grod — no  Redeemer — no  salvation — no 
heaven — no,  nor  anything  even  in  this  world  to  save  you 
from  the  dominion  of  vice,  or  to  guide  you  to  the  practice 
and  enjoyment  of  virtue — this  is  all  that  infidelity  has  to  give 
you  as  a  substitute  for  the  Bible.  Say  to  it  with  surprise,  in- 
dignation, and  abhorrence — "  Avaunt,  lying  spirit.  Curse  not 
me  with  your  discoveries  of  nothing.  Is  this  all  you  have  to 
give  me  in  exchange  for  that  volume  which  is  profitable  for 
all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life  that  now  is,  as  well 
as  of  that  which  is  to  come  .?  You  have  nothing  by  which  I 
may  steer  my  course  across  the  stormy  ocean  of  this  life  :  and 
nothing  at  the  end  of  the  voyage  but  the  black  rocks  of  an- 
nihilation on  which  I  must  dash,  and  be  for  ever  lost.  Be 
gone  with  thy  creed  of  wretched  negations,  to  him  who  is 
fool  enough  to  be  cajoled  out  of  his  Bible  by  thy  miserable 
sophistries."  Sometimes  the  mind  is  more  impressed  with 
the  atrocity  of  an  intended  felony,  by  examining  the  articles 
one  by  one,  which  it  would  purloin,  than  by  looking  at  the 
whole  in  mass.  So  it  is  judging  of  infidelity — take  up  book 
by  book  of  Scripture — examine  each  separately,  and  say, 
'•  The  felon  infidel  would  rob  me  of  this,  and  this,  and 
this."  Yes,  Young  Men,  he  would  cheat  you,  among  the 
rest,  out  of  this  Book  of  Proverbs.  He  would  tell  you  that 
this  is  imposition,  and  no  revelation  from  Grod  at  all.     Or  if 


THE    BOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  211 

he  consented  to  leave  this  in  your  hands,  he  would,  by  taking 
away  its  divine  authority,  deprive  it  of  all  power  to  bind 
your  conscience  as  law,  and  merely  submit  it  for  your  adop- 
tion as  advice,  which  you  are  still  at  liberty  to  reject  if  you 
do  not  like  it. 

III.  This  book  shows  us  the  connexion  between  true  reli- 
gion and  general  excellence  of  character.  This  was  noticed 
in  the  last  sermon,  when  we  contemplated  the  character  of 
Joseph,  and  is  now  repeated  in  this  general  analysis  of  the 
Book  of  Proverbs.  It  lays  the  foundation,  broad,  deep  and 
strong,  in  that  wisdom  which  is  the  fear  of  God.  It  antici- 
pates the  apostolic  injunction — "  Add  to  your  faith^  virtue." 
The  foundation  of  the  temple  of  virtue  is  religion — its 
golden  ornament  upon  the  dome  is  all  that  is  gentle  in 
spirit  and  graceful  in  demeanor.  From  hence  is  to  be 
derived  that  completeness  of  character  which  this  book  is 
intended  and  calculated  to  form.  It  begins  with  the  heart  ; 
and  forms  a  holy  mechanism  there,  which  guides  the  hands 
of  the  clock  in  regular  movements  round  the  dial-plate  of 
life.  It  implants  right  principles  of  action.  It  communi- 
cates a  hidden  life — it  sanctifies  the  inner  man,  and  thus 
fashions  the  outer  man — and  does  not  merely  paint  a  picture, 
or  carve  a  bust.  Here  man  in  all  his  relations  and  all  his 
interests  is  consulted — as  a  creature  of  God — as  a  citizen  of 
the  state — as  a  member  of  society — as  an  inmate  of  the 
dwelling — as  a  creditor  or  a  debtor — as  a  buyer  or  a  seller 
— in  each  and  all  these,  he  is  contemplated,  directed,  and 
encouraged.  It  has  been  beautifully  observed,  that  "  we 
want  religion  to  be  to  the  character,  what  the  soul  is  to  the 
body — the  animating  principle.  The  soul  operates  in  every 
member.  It  sees  in  the  eye — hears  in  the  ear — speaks  in 
the  tongue — animates  the  whole  body,  with  ease  and  uuifor- 


212  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

raity,  without  ostentation  or  effort."  Thus  let  the  good  con- 
duct of  the  citizen,  the  son,  the  husband,  the  father,  the 
brother,  the  tradesman,  be  only  so  many  operations  of  truo 
piety,  so  many  acts  of  this  animating  soul — so  many  devel- 
opments of  this  hidden  life. 

lY.  Though  there  is  much  in  this  book  which,  properly 
understood  and  followed,  would,  in  connexion  with  other  parts 
of  Scripture,  guide  the  reader  to  heaven  and  prepare  him  for 
its  enjoyment,  it  must  be  confessed  and  remembered,  that  it 
principally  aims  to  form  the  social  character  for  the  present 
world.  What  we  have  already  said  on  this  subject  we  repeat, 
that  for  a  clear  and  explicit  knowledge  of  the  way  of  pardon 
and  eternal  life,  we  must  read  the  New  Testament.  There 
we  learn  how  Christ  is  made  of  God  unto  us  "  Wisdom,  and 
righteousness,  and  sanctification  and  redemption. "  And  even 
there  also  we  learn  the  great  moral  principles  on  which  all 
the  transactions  of  this  world's  business  should  be  founded  : 
but  it  is  in  this  extraordinary  book  that  all  the  details  of 
social  life  are  given  with  a  minuteness  that  is  really  extraor- 
dinary. It  is  the  tradesman's  vade  mecum.  It  might  lie  on 
his  desk  by  the  side  of  his  ledger,  and  even  that  in  a  thousand 
instances  would  have  been  in  a  better  state,  had  this  been 
more  constantly  consulted.  It  is  my  firm  belief  that  no  man 
who  reads  this  book  through  with  close  attention  and  earnest 
prayer,  once  a  year,  will  fail,  either  in  this  world,  or  in  refer- 
ence to  that  which  is  to  come.  It  is  designed  and  adapted 
to  form  the  industrious,  prudent,  honorable,  and  successful 
tradesman,  and  is  therefore  eminently  suited  to  this  great 
commercial  country.  Napoleon  Bonaparte,  when  in  the 
zenith  of  his  power  and  pride,  called  this  country,  more  in  a 
spirit  of  mortification  and  envy  than  of  contempt,  a  nation  of 
shopkeepers.     If  by  that  term  he  comprehended  our  mer* 


THE    IJOOK    OF    PROVERBS.  ii]3 

cliants  and  manufacturers,  he  did  not  inaptly  describo  us 
AVo  are  not  ashamed  of  our  commercial  character  and  great 
ness :  and  provided  our  merchandise  be  carried  on  upon  the 
principles  of  this  book,  and  we  thus  inscribe  upon  itj 
Holiness  to  the  Lord^  it  is  our  glory  and  defence. 

V.  In  this  book  is  disclosed  the  secret  of  true  happiiiesSy 
aud  which  indeed  if  possessed  will  make  happy  individuals, 
happy  families,  happy  neighborhoods,  happy  nations,  and 
a  happy  world.  All  the  errors  which  men  have  fallen  into  on 
this  subject ;  all  the  delusive  shadows,  the  polluted  springs,  the 
deleterious  ingredients,  which  have  misled  so  many,  are  here 
detected  and  exposed  ;  while  the  nature,  the  source,  and  the 
means  of  true  felicity,  arc  as  clearly  pointed  out.  Here,  in 
the  favor  of  God  ;  in  the  mortification  of  our  corruptions  ; 
in  tne  restraint  of  our  passions  ;  in  the  cultivation  of  our 
graces  ;  m  the  performance  of  our  duties  ;  in  promoting  the 
good  of  our  neighbors,  and  in  the  hope  of  immortality — are 
the  materials  of  human  blessedness.  Here,  happiness  is  set 
ferth,  not  in  the  heathen  forms  of  Bacchus,  Yenus,  or  Momus  ; 
not  by  such  descriptions  as  those  of  Horace,  Ovid,  and  Ana- 
creon  ;  not  by  such  rout  and  revelry  as  the  lovers  of  pleasure 
in  every  age  would  recommend.  Quite  the  contrary.  In 
this  book,  happiness  is  seen  descending  from  heaven,  her 
native  place,  and  lighting  upon  our  orb  in  the  seraph  form 
of  religion.  She  is  clad  in  the  robe  of  righteousness,  arrayed 
in  the  garment  of  salvation,  and  adorned  with  ine  ornament 
of  a  meek  and  quiet  spirit.  Like  the  king's  daughter  of  old, 
she  "  is  all  glorious  within,  her  clothing  is  of  wrought  gold.'' 
Joy  sparkles  in  her  eye,  and  peace  reposes  upon  her  brow. 
Her  conscience  is  easy  by  pardon,  and  her  heart  is  lio-ht 
through  purity.  The  song  of  the  seraphim  is  upon  her  lips. 
Her  hand  is  alternately  lifted  up  in  adoration  to  God,  and 


214  THE  rouNG  man's  friend. 

stretched  out  in  mercy  to  "his  necessitous  creatures.  Her 
foot  cvor  carry  her  with  joyful  steps,  either  to .  the  house  of 
prayer,  or  the  abodes  of  sorrow.  Her  excellencies  are  de- 
scribed and  her  praises  are  sung,  not  in  the  odes  of  licentious 
poets,  at  sensual  orgies,  in  strains  inspired  by  lust  and  wine  ; 
but  in  the  hymns  composed  by  prophets  and  apostles,  resound- 
ing in  the  temples  of  devotion,  or  chanted  by  good  and  holy 
men  in  the  circles  of  their  friends,  or  the  homes  of  their 
families.  Such  is  the  happiness  set  forth  in  this  book — the 
only  thing  which  deserves  the  name  ;  the  only  thing  that  can 
prove  itself  worthy  of  the  name.  That  seraph  form  lights, 
Young  Men,  in  your  path,  and  with  her  own  angelic,  divine, 
and  heavenly  smile,  beckons  you  to  follow  her  to  the  well- 
spring  of  delight,  repeating  at  every  step,  the  beautiful  lan- 
guage of  this  book,  "  Happy  is  the  man  that   findeth 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  SUCCEEDING  OR  FAILING  IN 
BUSINESS. 


"  He  becometh  poor  that  dealeth  with  a  sJack  Land ;  but  the  hand  ci 
the  diligent  maketh  rich." — Proverbs  x.  4, 

*'  In  the  day  of  prosperity  be  joyful,  but  in  the  day  of  adversity  con 
sider." — Ecclesiastes  vii.  14. 

Think  not,  Young  Men,  that  in  selecting  two  subjects 
consecutively,  and  one  before,  from  the  books  of  Proverbs  and 
Ecclesiastes,  I  am  drawing  your  attention  away  from  the 
New  Testament  to  the  Old,  and  investing  the  latter  with  an 
importance  superior  to  that  of  the  former.  By  no  means. 
Both  these  portions  of  the  sacred  volume  belong  to  the  one 
divine  system  of  revealed  truth,  and  they  stand  related  to 
each  other  as  the  two  great  lights  of  the  moral  world,  the 
sun  to  rule  the  day  and  the  moon  to  rule  the  night.  The 
Old  Testament,  with  lunar  effulgence  borrowed  from  the 
yet  invisible  orb  of  spiritual  day,  shone  forth  upon  the 
Jewish  Church  during  the  night  season  of  its  existence  ; 
while  the  New,  with  its  own  brightness,  constitutes  the  day  of 
our  Christian  dispensation.  !3ut  though  the  Sun  of  Righte- 
ousness has  risen,  the  moon  is  still  a  valuable  member  of  our 
spiritual  solar  system.  Let  us  then  hold  fast  both  parts  of  the 
10 


216  THE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

Bible,  not  neglecting  the  books  of  Moses,  David,  Solomon, 
and  the  prophets,  but  delighting  most  to  study  the  gospels 
and  epistles  because  of  their  clearer  revelation  of  every 
thing  that  stands  connected  with  the  moral  character  of  God 
— the  person  and  work  of  Christ — the  way  of  salvation — and 
the  glories  of  immortality. 

The  book  of  Ecclesiastes,  when  properly  understood,  is  an 
important  portion  of  sacred  Scripture.  It  is  on  good  grounds 
ascribed  to  Solomon,  and  is  supposed,  as  we  stated  in  the 
last  discourse,  to  have  been  composed  after  his  recovery 
from  his  deplorable  apostacy,  and  was  intended  by  him 
to  be  a  record  of  his  own  experience,  and  a  warning, 
or  at  any  rate  an  instruction,  to  mankind.  Its  chief  design 
seems  to  be  to  answer  that  momentous  inquiry,  prompted 
at  once  by  the  misery  and  the  ignorance  of  fallen  humanity, 
"  Who  will  show  us  any  good."  Man  is  made  for 
happiness,  and  is  capable  of  it ;  but  what  is  it,  and  how 
is  it  to  be  obtained  ?  To  possess  and  enjoy  it,  he  must 
be  furnished  with  some  good,  which  is  suited  to  his  nature, 
adapted  to  his  condition,  and  adequate  to  his  capacity  and 
desires. 

The  nature  of  the  chief  good  has  been,  in  every  age,  the 
most  earnest  and  interesting  subject  of  philosophic  inquiry. 
But  how  various  and  opposed  have  been  the  conclusions  to 
which,  on  this  important  subject,  the  inquirers  have  arrived. 
Varro,  a  very  learned  Latin  writer,  who  died  about  thirty 
years  before  Christ,  reckoned  up  more  than  two  hundred  dif- 
ferent opinions  on  this  subject ;  thus  plainly  evincing  the  igno- 
rance of  man  of  his  own  nature,  circumstances,  and  wants. 
Not  perceiving  what  it  is  that  has  made  him  miserable,  he  can- 
not know  of  course  what  will  make  him  happy.  Unacquainted 
with    or   rather   overlooking  the  disease,  he   cannot  know 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  21*7 

the  remedy.  He  feels  an  aching  void  within,  an  unsatisfied 
craving  after  something,  but  knows  neither  the  nature  nor 
the  source  of  the  food  which  is  to  meet  and  satisfy  his  hungry 
appetite.  What  human  reason  is  thus  proved  to  be  too 
ignorant  and  too  weak  to  decide,  the  Bible  undertakes  to 
settle  :  that  which  no  human  authority  could  adjudicate 
upon,  the  oracle  of  God,  explicitly,  imperatively,  and  infal- 
libly determines  for  ever  and  for  all.  Precious  Bible,  if 
only  for  this  !  The  vagrant  spirit  of  man  is  seen  wandering 
from  God  the  fountain  of  bliss,  roaming  through  "  this  dry 
and  thirsty  land,  where  no  water  is  ;"  anxiously  looking  for 
happiness,  but  never  finding  it ;  coming  often  to  springs  that 
are  dry,  and  to  cisterns  that  are  broken,  till  weary  of  the  pur- 
suit and  disappointed  in  its  hopes,  it  is  ready  to  give  up  all 
in  despair,  and  reconcile  itself  to  misery,  under  the  notion 
that  happiness  is  but  a  name.  In  this  sad  and  hopeless 
mood,  the  victim  of  grief  and  despondency  is  met  by  the 
Bible,  which  takes  him  by  the  hand,  and  leads  him  to  the 
fountain  of  living  waters.  Such  is  the  design  of  this  extra- 
ordinary book — to  show  first  of  all  what  will  not  make  man 
happy,  and  then  what  will.  Upon  all  the  most  coveted  pos- 
sessions of  this  world,  it  pronounces  the  solemn  and  impres- 
sive sentence,  "  Vanity  of  vanities — all  is  vanity.''^  It 
interrogates  singly  every  coveted  object  of  human  desires,  and 
asks,  *'  What  are  you .?"  only  to  receive  the  melancholy 
answer,  '*  Vanity.''^  Or  if,  deceptively,  they  return  another 
answer,  it  turns  to  the  man  who  has  possessed  and  proved 
them  all,  and  who  contradicts  their  testimony,  and  mourn- 
fully cries,  ''  They  are  vanity y 

In  the  beginning  of  the  book,  Solomon  gives  this  out  as 
the  first  part  of  his  subject,  and  then  twenty  times  repeats  it, 
and  oftener  still  alludes  to  it  in  the  course  of  his  details  ;  and 


218 

when  he  had  finished  his  proofs  and  illustrations,  he  formall;^ 
re-announces  it  in  his  peroration.  He  does  not  by  this 
sentence  intend  to  pass  any  censure  on  the  works  of  nature^ 
the  dispensations  of  Providence,  or  the  arrangements  of 
man's  social  existence.  As  God  originally  made  them,  all 
things  are  good  in  their  nature,  relations,  and  designs ;  but 
man's  sinfulness  corrupts  all  to  himself — he  makes  those 
things  to  be  ends  which  were  only  intended  to  be  means — 
rests  in  what  is  subordinate  instead  of  going  on  to  that  which 
is  supreme — and  abuses  that  which  is  granted  him  only  to 
use.  Now  Solomon  shows  in  this  book,  that  nothing  on 
earth  can  satisfy,  as  the  supreme  good,  the  soul  of  man. 
Three  thousand  years  nearly  have  passed  away  since  then. 
Science  has  multiplied  its  discoveries,  art  its  inventions, 
and  literature  its  productions — civilization  has  opened  new 
sources  of  luxury,  and  ingenuity  has  added  innumerable 
gratifications  of  appetite  and  of  taste,  unknown  even  to 
Solomon — every  domain  of  nature  has  been  explored,  and 
every  conceivable  experiment  been  made,  to  extort  from  her 
new  means  of  enjoyment,  and  new  secrets  of  happiness — but 
still  the  heart  of  man  confirms  the  testimony  of  the  king  of 
Israel,  and  the  experience  of  the  human  race  prolongs  the 
echo  of  his  words,  "  Vanity  of  vanities — all  is  vanity." 

This,  however,  is  only  the  negative  view  of  the  subject — 
if  all  these  are  vanity  and  not  good — what  is  good — and  is 
there  anything  which  really  deserves  the  name  .''  There  is 
— and  it  is  the  design  of  this  portion  of  Scripture  to  reveal 
and  declare  it.  What  is  it  ?  What — that  is  to  settle  the 
question,  and  reveal  to  the  children  of  men  the  nature  and 
the  source  of  happiness  1  What — that  is  to  terminate  the 
weary  pursuits,  to  revive  the  languid  hopes,  and  to  gratify 
the  anxious  desires  of  the  destitute  and  sorrowing   children 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  219 

of  men,  hungering  and  thirsting  after  bliss  ?  What  ? 
Wisdom.  That  wisdom  of  which  we  spoke  in  the  last 
sermon,  as  constituting  the  subject  of  the  Book  of  Proverbs  ; 
between  which  portion  of  Scriptures  and  this  book  of  Eccle- 
siastes  there  is  so  close  a  resemblance  of  design  and  con- 
struction. But  what  is  wisdom  ?  He  himself  declares  in 
the  last  chapter,  where  he  sums  up  the  whole  of  what  he 
had  said,  "  Let  us  hear  the  conclusion  of  the  whole  matter  : 
Fear  God  and  keep  his  commandments:  for  this 
IS  THE  whole  duty  OF  MAN."  The  fii'st  six  chapters  of 
the  book  are  devoted  to  the  negative  view  of  happiness,  and 
are  intended  as  illustrations  of  the  declaration,  '^  All  is 
vanity ;"  the  remainder  to  an  illustration  of  the  nature, 
excellence,  and  beneficial  effects  of  true  wisdom  or  religion. 
This,  then,  after  all  the  enquiries  of  philosophers,  is  the 
chief  good — true  religion.  This  suits  the  nature — meets 
the  wants — alleviates  the  sorrows — satisfies  the  desires,  of 
the  human  soul,  and  is  its  portion  for  ever.  This  finds  him 
depraved  and  makes  him  holy — finds  him  little  and  makes 
him  great — finds  him  earthly  and  raises  him  to  heaven.  This 
leads  the  human  spirit,  through  the  mediation  of  Christ, 
into  the  presence  of  the  infinite,  eternal,  omnipotent,  and 
all-sufficient  Author  of  its  existence,  and  by  the  teaching 
and  aid  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  impels  and  helps  him  to  say, 
"  Thou  art  my  'portion^  O  my  God.  Thy  favor  is  life.,  a7id 
thy  loving -kindness  is  better  than  life.  Thou  art  the  centre — 
the  rest — the  home  of  my  heart.  "^"^ 

Perhaps  we  shall  better  understand  this  book  ^'  if  we 
suppose  that  the  author  at  every  step  is  meeting  the  argu- 
ments of  an  objector,  who  contends  that  appearances  are 
Buch  in  the  present  world  as  to  exclude  the  idea  of  a  super- 
intending Providence — to  confound   together,  without  dis- 


220  THE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEIsD. 

crimination  as  to  their  fate  or  fortunes,  their  merit  or  desert 
the  wise  and  the  foolish,  goodness  and  sin — thus  destroying 
all  rational  hope  for  the  future,  and  leaving  nothing  better  to 
man  than  that  he  should  eat  and  drink,  and  enjoy  himself 
here  as  well  as  he  can.  The  author  meets,  examines,  and 
answers  these  objections,  by  exposing  the  unsatisfactoriness  of 
mere  pleasure,  and  insists  on  the  regality  and  supremacy  of 
Duty.^''  This  view  of  the  design  and  the  construction  of 
the  book  will  remove  that  appearance  of  an  atheistic  spirit 
which  seems  in  the  view  of  objectors,  to  characterise  some 
passages. 

Having  considered  the  design  of  the  book  from  which  the 
text  is  selected,  and  thrown,  I  hope,  some  light  upon  what 
appears  a  little  enigmatical,  I  will  proceed  to  take  up  the 
subject  of  this   discourse,   and  consider   the   young   man 

SUCCEEDING  OR   FAILING  IN   BUSINESS. 

I  will  suppose  the  case  of  two  young  men  setting  out  in 
life  with  equal  advantages  as  to  capital,  connections,  and 
prospects.  They  have  gone  through  their  term  of  appren- 
ticeship, and  the  intermediate  stage  of  the  shopman  or  the 
clerk,  and  have  commenced  business  for  themselves.  One 
of  them  succeeds — a  propitious  gale  seems  to  fill  his  sails, 
and  a  favorable  tide  to  flow  in,  to  help  him  onward  in  his 
course  from  the  very  time  of  sailing.  He  makes  a  pros- 
perous voyage  and  enters  safely  into  harbor  with  a  rich  cargo. 
His  business  flourishes — his  capital  increases — he  rises  to 
competency,  to  respectability,  perhaps  to  wealth.  His 
influence  and  his  rank  in  society  keep  pace  of  course  with 
the  accumulation  of  his  opulence.  Such  cases  often  occur 
in  this  trading  and  commercial  country.  It  is  only  a  few 
days  since  I  was  visiting  at  the  house  of  a  friend  in  a  town 
not  very  remote,  who  has  recently  taken  a  large  house  and 


SUCCEEDING     OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  221 

beautiful  grounds,  wlio  came  to  the  town  with  only  a  fe\f 
shillings  in  his  pocket.  While  in  this  humble  situation,  one 
day  passing  the  premises  he  now  occupies,  when  the  gates 
being  opened,  he  felt  the  kindlings  of  desire  and  ambition 
in  his  soul,  and  said  to  himself,  "I  will  one  day  possess  such 
a  place  as  tha.t  if  I  can.  He  was  an  industrious  young  man, 
got  on  in  life  ;  became  a  true  Christian — a  prosperous  trades- 
man— and  now  is  dwelling  in  elegance  in  the  house  and 
enjoying  the  grounds  which  excited  his  desires ;  and  what  is 
still  better,  is  giving  God  the  glory  of  all,  and  sanctifying 
his  prosperity  by  Christian  liberality.  He  is  also  the  deacon 
of  a  Christian  church.  I  might  mention  another  pious 
individual — of  large  fortune — who  is  now  a  Member  of  Par- 
liament, and  was  once  a  boy  in  a  Sunday  school. 

There  is,  however,  a  dark  reverse  to  all  this,  which  some- 
times occurs,  I  mean  an  early  failure.  In  this  case  the 
vessel  has  no  sooner  left  port  than  it  encounters  unfavorable 
winds,  is  tossed  upon  the  billows  by  tempests,  and  dashed 
upon  the  rocks,  or  stranded  upon  the  shore,  becomes  a 
wreck.  The  business  commenced  with  hope  terminates  in 
disappointment,  and  the  young  tradesman  is  soon  converted 
into  the  young  bankrupt.  This,  in  such  a  country  as  ours, 
is  no  uncommon  case.     May  it,  young  men,  never  be  yours. 

It  may  now  be  of  importance  to  inquire  into  the  causes, 
if  any  can  be  found,  for  this  difference  of  result. 

We  put  aside  the  idea  of  chanct.  There  is  no  such  thing 
in  our  world — none  in  nature — none  in  human  affairs.  We 
must  not  explain  the  matter  by  saying,  "  It  was  just  as  it 
happened.  One  was  a  lucky  man,  and  the  other  an  unlucky 
one."  Luck,  if  it  mean  nothing  more  than  an  event 
of  which  the  cause  is  not  apparent,  is  a  term  that  may  be 
employed  without  error ;  but  if  it  means,  as  it  generally  does, 


222  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

an  event  which  has  no  cause  at  all,  a  mere  chance,  it  is  a  bad 
word,  a  heathen  term.  Drop  it  from  your  vocabulary. 
Trust  nothing  to  luck,  nor  expect  anything  from  it.  Avoid 
all  practical  use  or  dependence  upon  this  or  its  kindred 
words,  fate — chance — fortune. 

True  it  is,  that  success  or  failure  in  business,  as  in  other 
things,  depends  often  upon  a  concurrence  of  circumstances, 
which  no  human  prescience  could  foresee,  nor  any  human 
sagacity  arrange :  but  this  is  not  chance,  or  luck,  or  fate,  or 
fortune, — but  Providence.  There  is  much  of  Providence  in 
every  man's  history,  and  more  of  a  favoring  Providence  in 
some  men's  history  than  in  others.  "  The  lot  is  cast  into 
the  lap,  (or  urn,  the  usual  way  of  drawing  lots,)  but  the  dis- 
posal thereof  is  of  the  Lord.  Providence  no  doubt  gives 
advantages  to  some  which  it  does  not  bestow  upon  others. 
Scripture  is  full  of  instances  of  this  kind.  How  conspicuous 
was  Providence  in  the  history  of  Joseph !  How  manifest  in 
the  life  of  Moses  !  How  remarkable  in  the  advancement  of 
David  and  Mordecai !  In  ordinary  life  we  see  the  same  kind 
and  unexpected  interpositions  on  behalf  of  some  favored  indi- 
viduals. Throughout  the  whole  range  of  Scripture,  pros- 
perity is  spoken  of  as  the  gift  of  God — as  matter  of  prayer 
where  it  is  desired,  and  of  grateful  acknowledgment  where  it 
is  possessed.  "  The  rich  and  the  poor  meet  together,  but 
the  Lord  is  the  maker  of  them  all  j"  not  merely  as  men, 
but  as  rich  and  poor.  Therefore  believe  in  Providence. 
'*  In  all  thy  ways  acknowledge  him,  and  he  shall  direct  thy 
paths."  "  It  is  the  blessing  of  the  Lord  that  maketh  rich." 
Look  up  for  that  blessing  by  constant,  earnest,  believing 
prayer.  Enter  upon  life  devoutly  believing  in  Grod,  as  the 
God  of  Providence.  Do  nothing  upon  which  you  cannot  ask 
his  blessing,  and  then  seek  his  blessing  upon  everything  you 


SUCCEEtJiNG    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  223 

'do.  Never  forget  your  dependence  upon  liim.  He  can 
exalt  you  to  prosperity  or  sink  you  into  the  lowest  depth  of 
adversity.  He  can  make  everything  prosper  to  which  you 
set  your  hand,  or  everything  to  fail.  Devoutly  acknowledge 
this.  Abjure  the  infidelity  that  shuts  God  out  of  his  own 
world. 

There  is  a  passage,  however,  which,  as  it  seems  to  favor 
an  opposite  view  to  this,  I  will  explain.  "  I  returned,  and 
saw  under  the  sun,  that  the  race  is  not  to  the  swift,  nor  the 
battle  to  the  strong ;  neither  yet  bread  to  the  wise,  nor  yet 
riches  to  men  of  understanding,  nor  yet  favor  to  men  of 
skill ;  but  time  and  chance  happeneth  to  them  all."  Chap. 
ix.  11.  The  obvious  meaning  of  this  verse  is,  that  while 
there  are  some  so  timid  and  desponding  as  to  expect  nothing 
from  their  exertions,  there  are  others  so  sanguine,  bold,  and 
self-confident,  as  to  feel  almost  sure  to  succeed  in  every 
thing  :  and  while  the  preceding  verse  is  intended  to  stimu- 
late the  energies  of  the  former,  by  showing  the  benefit  of 
exertion,  this  verse  is  designed  to  check  the  proud  confidence 
of  the  latter  by  reminding  them  that  the  success  of  human 
efforts  is  not  always  in  proportion  to  tlieir  ability.  "  Time 
and  chance  happen  to  all."  There  are  times  propitious 
and  unpropitious  in  the  history  of  all,  for  the  accomplish- 
ment of  our  purposes,  over  which  we  can  have  no  command 
or  control  :  and  an  endless  variety  of  ciicumstances,  which 
as  they  could  not  be  foreseen  and  cannot  be  controlled,  may 
appear  like  chance,  and  which  may  frustrate  the  wisest 
plans,  and  render  nugatory  the  most  industrious  exertions. 
All  is  Providence  in  determining  results-  So  that  from  this 
w^'U-kuown  and  frequently  quoted  passage,  we  are  not  to  con- 
clude there  is  no  adaptation  of  means  to  ends- -no  tendency 
in  proper  qualities  and  actions  to  the  desired  events — tha^ 
10* 


224  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

there  is  in  fact  no  superior  probability  of  success  to  the  swift 
more  than  to  the  slow — to  the  strong  more  than  to  the  weak 
— to  the  intelligent  more  than  to  the  ignorant — to  the  skilful 
more  than  to  the  foolish.  Far  from  it.  For  if  this  were  the 
case,  forethought,  intelligence,  industry,  were  all  useless,  a 
large  portion  of  Scripture  would  be  contradicted  by  itself, 
and  the  passage  be  proved  false  by  a  reference  to  the  examples 
which  are  constantly  occurring  before  us.  The  meaning  evi- 
dently is,  that  though  these  qualities  teiid  to  success,  they 
cannot  actually  ensure  it.  Such  a  passage  is  not  intended  to 
discourage  industry,  but  only  to  check  a  spirit  of  proud  self- 
reliance  :  not  to  repress  the  energies  and  the  chastened  con- 
fidence of  the  rational  man,  but  to  call  into  exercise  the 
caution  and  the  piety  of  the  dependent  one. 

It  is  ever  to  be  remembered  that  Providence  works  by 
means,  and  the  means  employed  are  those  which  possess  an 
adaptation  to  produce  the  end  contemplated.  And  since 
God  has  appointed  means  to  be  employed,  we  do  as  much 
homage  to  him  in  using  these,  as  we  do  in  depending  upon 
him  for  their  success — in  the  one  we  honor  his  wisdom,  and 
in  the  other  his  power.  Hence  therefore,  we  must  in  ordi- 
nary cases  look  for  the  means  of  success^  and  the  causes  nf 
failure^  in  men'^s  own  conduct.  This  is  true  both  in  spiritual 
and  temporal  things ;  and  is  as  true  in  one  as  the  other,  for 
the  God  of  nature  and  providence  is  the  God  of  grace,  and 
there  is  an  analogy  between  the  method  of  his  procedure  in 
all  these  departments  of  action.  In  each,  second  causes  are 
employed  ;  and  in  each,  the  means  are  adapted  to  the  end. 
Let  us  then  examine  into  the  causes  of  the  two  different 
results  of  success  and  failure. 

1.  The  possession  or  want  of  ability j  cleverness,  and 
good  judgment,  or  what  is  called  tact,  in  trade^  will  ofteq 


SUCCEEDINU    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  225 

account  for  success  or  failure.  Success  in  any  department 
of  human  action  without  a  competent  knowledge  of  the 
means  of  obtaining  it,  cannot  be  expected,  and  ordinarily 
never  is  obtained.  It  is  true  an  unusual  concurrence  of 
what  are  called  fortunate  circumstances  may  in  some  cases 
contribute  to  results  not  otherwise  to  be  looked  for  ;  but 
these  are  the  exceptions,  not  the  rule.  Unhappily,  some 
young  persons  are  acq;uainted  with  these,  and  receive  from 
them  an  unfavorable  influence,  and  trust  to  what  they 
call  luck  rather  than  ability.  It  is  in  the  order  of  nature 
for  intelligence  combined  with  industry  to  succeed,  and  we 
should  not  let  an  occasional  instance  now  and  then  of  pros- 
perous ignorance  shake  our  conviction  of  the  necessity  of 
skill.  Though  in  these  cases  the  element  of  knowledge  was 
in  small  proportion,  the  other  elements  in  some  measure 
compensated  for  the  deficiency  by  their  abundance  :  a  com- 
bination not  to  be  expected  in  your  cas-e.  A  man  must  at  all 
times,  especially  in  this  age  of  competition,  thoroughly  know 
not  only  his  own  trade,  but  the  principles  of  trade  in  general 
Business  is  an  art  and  a  science  too,  and  to  succeed  he 
must  be  acquainted  with  both.  He  must  know  how  to 
buy  and  how  to  sell.  He  must  be  a  judge  of  articles  and 
prices.  He  must  know  the  markets  and  the  times.  In  order 
to  this,  young  men,  you  must  be  thoughtful,  observant,  and 
diligent,  as  an  apprentice  and  shopman.  You  must  be  no 
lovers  of  pleasure,  nor  companions  of  those  that  are.  Next 
to  relio-ion,  it  should  be  your  aim  to  gain  a  complete  mastery 
of  your  trade.  Who  are  the  men  that  usually  succeed ! 
Not  the  dolts,  the  ill-informed,  or  the  half-informed — but 
the  well-informed.  Who  are  the  men  that  fail  ?  Usually 
you  will  find  them,  not  the  well-informed,  but  the  half- 
informed  or  the  ill-iuformed.     Even  rzligion  itself,  however 


226  THE    YOUNG    MAN*S    FRIEND. 

eminent,  cannot  stand  you  in  the  stead  of  a  knowledge  and 
the  habits  of  a  good  tradesman.  Godliness,  it  is  true,  is 
profitable  for  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life  that 
now  is  and  of  that  which  is  to  come.  But  then  it  is  not 
godliness  without  other  things,  but  with  them.  A  good  and 
holy  young  man  is  not  to  expect  to  succeed  by  the  favor  of 
God,  without  either  industry  or  ability.  God's  blessing  is 
not  to  be  looked  for  as  a  substitute  for  these.  He  does  not 
bless  pious  dolts,  where  this  want  of  ability  is  the  result  of 
neglect.  God  will  not  set  aside  the  general  laws  by  which 
he  governs  the  social  world  in  favor  of  religion,  any  more 
than  he  will  those  of  the  natural  world.  Even  a  seraph, 
were  he  incarnate  upon  earth,  would,  if  he  had  no  acquaint- 
ance with  earthly  affairs,  make  a  bad  farmer  or  a  bad  manu- 
facturer. Nor  will  the  countenance  and  support  of  friends 
lead  to  success,  without  the  tradesman's  own  skill.  Who 
can  help  an  incompetent  man  ^  What  foreign  aid  can  be  a 
substitute  for  personal  ability  ?  There  are  some  cripples  too 
feeble  to  walk,  even  by  the  help  of  others.  So  there  are 
some  persons  too  ignorant  to  be  helped  ever  to  succeed. 
Capital  will  not  do  without  knowledge.  The  largest  amount 
of  this  will  be  soon  dissipated,  where  there  is  no  skill  to 
direct  its  employment.  Beware  of  overstocking,  and  trading 
beyond  your  capital.  A  friend  lately  told  me  he  knew 
several  young  tradesmen  ruined  by  allowing  travellers  to 
force  upon  them  too  large  purchases. 

2.  Success  and  failure  depend  a  great  deal  upon  a  favor - 
able  commencement — a  good  starting.  This  is  true,  as  a 
general  principle,  in  application  to  all  things.  Bad  begin- 
nings 7nay  be  repaired,  but  are  not  usually,  A  first  wrong 
step  is  often  if  not  always  the  beginning  of  a  scries  of  steps  :iil 
wrong     Great  care,  caution,  circumspection,  and  forethought 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILING    IX    BUSIXiiSS.  227 

therefore,  are  necessary  here.  Many  begin  too  soon,  befora 
they  have  sufficient  capital  or  competent  knowledge.  They 
are  impatient  to  be  masters,  before  they  are  prepared  for  it 
They  are  unwilling  to  "  bide  their  time,"  and  they  also 
miscalculate  their  ability.  They  are  better  fitted  to  obey 
than  to  rule.  It  is  not  every  good  servant  that  will  make 
an  able  master,  though  unquestionably  the  best  preparation 
for  the  latter,  is  the  former.  He  that  begins  with  little 
capital  and  less  experience,  commences  with  fearful  disad- 
vantages, and  failure  has  often  been  the  result.  Our  mo.-t 
successful  tradesmen  have  been  cautious,  as  well  as  able,  men. 
They  have  begun,  perhaps,  with  limited  capital,  but  they  did 
not  over-trade  with  it.  They  were  willing  to  creep  before 
they  walked  ;  to  walk  before  they  ran  ;  and  to  run  before 
they  fled.  There  is  an  old  Latin  proverb,  which  being  inter- 
preted is,  "  IVe  hasten  by  being  slow.''''  Beginning  well  is  a 
great  thing,  next  to  ending  well ;  and  the  one  leads  on  to  the 
other.  Let  there  be  much  reflection — much  counsel — much 
prayer  then,  in  such  an  important  step  as  commencing  busi- 
ness for  yourself.  As  this,  like  marriage,  is  a  step  for  life,  let 
it  be  taken  with  care,  and  think  no  time  lost,  or  too  long, 
which  is  necessary,  to  enable  you  to  tread  firmly  and  steadily 
at  the  outset.  For  one  that  repented  of  beginning  too  late, 
ten  have  repented  they  began  too  soon.  Next  to  seeking 
counsel  from  God,  by  earnest  and  believing  prayer,  seek  the 
advice  of  disinterested,  wise,  and  experienced  men.  A  young 
man  came  to  me  some  years  ago,  to  get  an  introduction  to  any 
friend  whom  I  might  know  in  the  neighborhood  in  which  he 
wished  to  engage  in  business,  and  who  would  be  willing  to 
give  him  counsel  on  the  probable  success  of  a  concern,  which 
he  had  some  thoughts  of  taking.  I  gave  him  a  letter  to  one 
of  the  most  capable  men  in  the  country,  who  very  kindly 


'328  rilE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

received  him,  and  very  wisely  and  earnestly  advised  him  to 
abandon  the  project.  But  he  had  set  his  heart  upon  it,  and 
in  opposition  to  the  counsel  which  had  been  given  him, 
entered  upon  the  concern,  from  which  he  was  very  soon  glad 
to  escape  without  being  utterly  ruined.  Do  not  first  make 
up  your  mind,  and  then  ask  advice  afterwards.  Reverse  this 
order,  and  go  to  the  oracle  first,  and  defer  to  its  responses. 

3.  Success  and  failure  are  dependent  upon  diligence  on 
the  one  hand,  or  neglect  and  indolence  on  the  other.  For 
proofs  of  this,  I  refer  you  to  that  invaluable  book  which  was 
the  subject  of  my  last  discourse,  and  to  your  own  reason  and 
observation.  We  have  already  quoted  one  passage  from 
the  Proverbs,  which  says,  "  The  blessing  of  the  Lord  maketh 
rich.''^  We  now  add  to  it  another,  "  The  hand  of  Ifie 
diligent  mahelh  rich?''  Both  are  true,  and  they  stand  related 
to  each  other,  as  the  instrumental  and  the  efiicient  cause. 
Man's  industry  cannot  be  successful,  without  Gud's  blessing, 
and  God's  blessing  is  not  bestowed,  without  man's  industry. 
The  Lord's  providential  visits  are  never  granted  to  loiterers. 
Moses,  David,  and  the  shepherds  at  Bethlehem,  were  all 
keeping  their  flocks,  and  Gideon  was  at  his  threshing-floor, 
when  God's  revelations  were  made  to  them.  How  is  sloth- 
fulness  exposed,  condemned,  branded,  in  God's  book.  Let 
a  man  have  ever  so  good  a  knowledge  of  his  business — let 
him  begin  with  all  the  advantage  of  capital,  connexions,  and 
situation — yet  if  he  be  of  an  indolent  or  self-indulgent  habit 
— a  late  riser — a  lover  of  pleasure — a  gossiping  neighbor — • 
a  zealous  political  partizan,  more  busy  in  improving  the  state, 
than  in  minding  his  own  concerns  : — he  will  soon  furnish 
another  evidence  of  the  truth  of  SDlomou's  words,  "  He  he- 
comelh  yoor  that  dealeth  with  a  slack  hand.^"*  Weigh  well, 
then,  young  men,  the  import  cf  that  momentous  word,  Dil- 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILURE    IN    BUSINESS.  22t 

IGENCE.  You  remember  the  anecdote  of  Demosthenes, 
who,  on.beinfi;  asked  the  first  grace  of  elocution,  replied, 
"  Action."  The  second  ?  "  Action."  The  third  ?  "  Ac- 
tion." So  if  asked,  Whatis  the  first  qualification  of  a  suc- 
cessful tradesman  t  I  answer,  "  Diligence."  The  second  } 
"Diligence."  The  third  .^  "Diligence."  Write  it  upon 
your  hearts.  Keep  it  ever  before  your  eyes.  Let  it  be  ever 
sounding  in  your  ears.  Let  it  be  said  of  you,  as  was  affirm- 
ed of  that  admirable  and  holy  missionary,  Henry  Martin, 
ivhen  he  was  at  college,  "  That  he  was  known  as  the  man 
who  never  lost  an  huur.'^'' 

4.  Method  and  system  have  much  to  do  with  failure  or 
success.  In  this  I  include  'promjptness  as  opposed  to  pro- 
crastination. No  habit  can  be  more  fatal  to  success  than 
that  wretched  disposition  of  postponing  till  another  time 
that  which  ought  to  be  done,  and  can  be  done,  at  once. 
Procrastination  has  ruined  millions  for  both  worlds.  There 
is  a  class  of  adverbs  which  some  men  appear  never  to  have 
studied,  but  which  are  of  immense  importance  in  all  the 
affairs  both  of  time  iind  eternity.  1  mean  the  words,  "  in- 
stantly ;"  "  immediately  ;"  "  at  once  ;"  "  now  ;"  and  for 
which  they  have  unhappily  substituted,  "  presently  ;"  "  by 
and  bye  ;"  "  to-morrow  ;"  "  at  some  future  time."  Young 
men,  catch  the  inspiration  of  that  weighty  monosyllable — 
"  now."  Yield  to  the  potency  of  that  word — "  instantly." 
But  to  use  a  still  more  business-like  term,  acquire  a  habit  of 
"  despatch.''^  And  in  order  to  do  this,  do  not  only  something 
immediately,  but  do  immediately  the  thing  that  ought  to  be 
done  next.  I^unclualiiy  is  of  immense  conseciucjice.  It 
has  been  rather  ludicrously  said,  "  iSome  people  seem  to  have 
been  born  half  an  hour  after  their  time,  and  tluiy  never  fetch 
it  up  all  their  lives."     In  the  present  busy  age,  when  busi- 


THE  YOUNG  man's  FRIEND.  230 

ness  is  so  extended  and  complicated,  and  when  of  course 
one  man  is  so  dependent  upon  another,  and  oftentimes  many 
upon  one,  a  want  of  punctuality  is  not  only  a  fault,  but  a 
vice,  and  a  vice  which  inflicts  an  injury,  not  only  upon  the 
transgressor  himself,  but  upon  others  who  have  been  waiting 
for  him.  "  You  have  caused  us  to  lose  an  hour,"  said  a 
gentleman  to  another,  for  whose  appearance  twelve  persons 
had  been  waiting.  "  Oh,  that  is  impossible,"  replied  the 
laggard,  "  for  it  is  only  five  minutes  after  the  time."  "  Very 
true,"  was  the  rejoinder,  "  but  here  are  twelve  of  us,  each 
of  whom  has  lost  five  minutes."  He  who  keeps  servants, 
customers,  or  creditors  waiting,  through  his  want  of  punc- 
tuality, can  never  prosper  This  is  as  irreligious  as  it  is  in- 
jurious, inasmuch  as  the  apostle  has  commanded  us  to  "  Re- 
deem the  time."  Order  is  no  less  essential  to  system  and 
success  than  promptness  and  punctuality.  Order,  it  is  said, 
is  heaven's  first  law,  an  aphorism  as  true  of  earth  as  it  is  of 
heaven,  and  as  applicable  to  the  movements  of  trade,  as  of 
the  stars.  A  place  and  a  time  for  everything,  and  every- 
thing in  its  place  and  time,  is  the  rule  of  every  successful 
tradesman.  A  disorderly  and  irregular  man  maybe  diligent, 
that  is  may  be  ever  in  a  bustle,  a  very  different  thing  from 
a  well-regulated  activity,  but  his  want  of  order  defeats  every- 
thing. The  machinery  of  his  habits  may  have  velocity  and 
power,  but  its  movements  are  irregular  and  eccentric,  and 
therefore  unproductive,  or  productive  only  of  uncertain, 
incomplete,  and  sometimes  mischievous,  results,  A  disorder- 
ly man  wastes  not  only  his  own  time,  but  that  of  others  who 
are  dependent  upon,  and  waiting  for  him — nor  does  the 
waste  stop  here,  for  what  a  useless  expenditure  of  energy 
and  a  painful  reduction  of  comfort,  are  ever  going  on. 
5.  Economy  has  a  most  powerful  influence  in  determining 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS?.  231 

the  failure  or  success  of  a  young  tradesman.  This  applies 
to  per^nalj  trade,  and  domestic  expenses,  and  the  man  who 
would  succeed  in  life  must  reduce  them  all  to  the  lowest 
prudent  level.  In  order  to  keep  down  the  expenses  of  trade^ 
he  must  do  with  as  little  purchased  help  as  he  can,  and  to 
accomplish  this,  he  must  be  a  hard  worker  himself,  till  he 
has  attained  to  that  pitch  of  prosperity,  when  he  can  do  more 
with  his  eyes  and  his  ears,  than  with  his  hands  and  feet. 
As  to  pefsonal  expenses,  let  him  avoid  all  unnecessary  con- 
sumption of  money  in  dress  and  ornaments.  Let  it  be  no 
part  of  your  ambition,  young  men,  to  be  noticed  and  admired 
for  matters  of  this  kind.  It  is  a  very  grovelling  ambition  to 
be  complimented  for  that  with  which  the  draper,  the  mercer, 
and  the  jeweller,  may  bedizen  the  veriest  fool  in  existence. 
How  mean  and  petty  is  foppery  compared  with  an  enlight- 
ened mind,  a  dignified  character,  and  the  beauties  of  holi- 
ness. I  am  not  an  advocate  for  either  meanness  or  sloven- 
liness. Cleanliness  and  neatness  border  upon  virtue,  as 
excessive  foppery  and  expensiveness  do  upon  vice.  It  is 
unworthy  of  a  female  to  be  inordinately  fond  of  dress — but 
for  a  man  to  love  finery  is  despicable  indeed.  Avoid  also 
the  love  of  pleasure,  for  '^  he  that  loveth  pleasurf 
SHALL  BE  A  POOR  MAN."  Ncvcr  wcrc  trucr  words  uttered. 
The  man  who  is  bent  upon  what  is  called  "  enjoying  him^ 
self^'''*  who  will  have  his  ^.jon  companions,  his  amusements, 
and  his  frequent  seasons  of  recreation  :  who  is  fond  of  par- 
ties, entertainments,  the  gaming  table,  the  ball  room,  the 
concert,  and  the  theatre — is  on  the  high  road  to  poverty  in 
this  world,  and  to  hell  in  the  next.  Let  the  lover  of  plea- 
sure read  the  history  of  Samson  in  the  Old  Testament,  and 
of  the  Prodigal  in  the  New — and  also  let  him  turn  back  to 
the  illustrations  contained  iu  the  last  sermon.     If  you  would 


232  THE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

have  oconomical  habits  as  a  master,  cultivate  them  as  a  ser 
vant.  Begin  now  and  persevere.  But  you  must  carry  out 
the  principle  of  economy  into  your  domestic  estahlishment. 
Frugality  in  the  house  is  a  virtue,  and  extravagance  a  vice. 
If  you  would  have  elegance  and  luxuries  at  the  close  of  life, 
he  content  with  necessaries  at  the  beginning  of  it.  He  that 
must  have  superfluities  at  the  beginning,  will  in  all  proba- 
bility have  scarcely  comforts  at  the  end.  Let  your  furni- 
ture, your  style  of  living,  your  whole  domestic  establishment, 
be  all  arranged  upon  the  principle  of  a  rigid,  though  not 
mean  economy.  Never  aim  to  cover  over  poverty  by  ex- 
travagance, nor  adopt  the  false  principle  that  style  is  neces- 
sary to  success.  Such  conduct  often  defeats  its  own  end,  by 
exciting  suspicion  and  undermining  credit.  Wise  creditors 
have  keen  and  vigilant  eyes  that  look  not  only  at  the  shop 
but  penetrate  into  the  dining  and  drawing  room,  and  that 
watch  the  mode  of  living  as  well  as  of  doing  business.  They 
deal  more  readily  and  upon  better  terms  with  the  frugal 
man,  than  with  the  extravagant  one.  The  basis  of  credit  is 
laid  in  economical  simplicity  and  plain  living,  not  in  unsub- 
stantial splendor,— -just  as  the  foundation  of  a  house  consists 
of  unadorned  bricks  and  unsculpturcd  stone,  and  not  in 
carved  and  gilded  wood.  It  is  the  diligent  and  frugal  man 
who  is  considered  to  be  the  trustworthy  one.  But  while  I 
recommend  economy,  I  woula  with  equal  force  condemn 
meanness,  and  reprobate  with  stronger  language  still,  a  want 
of  principle.  There  have  been  men  of  fine  talents,  and 
otherwise  excellent  character,  who  have  well-nigh  ruined 
themselves  by  a  spirit  of  mean  and  starveling  economy, 
which  grudged  the  very  means  of  success.  There  have  been 
even  professing  Christians  and  some  of  great  benevolence 
too,  who  from  education  or  hab't  have  been  so  mean  in  their 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINEsrSS.  233 

pecuniary  transactions,  as  to  throw  a  dark  shade  over  their 
character.  Economy,  when  rigid,  has  not  unfrequently  de- 
generated into  a  sordid  avarice.  Hence  the  necessity  of 
your  being  on  your  guard  against  the  meanest  of  all  vices, 
the  most  despicable  of  all  passions,  and  the  most  insatiable 
of  all  appetites — an  excessive  love  of  money.  It  is  very 
striking  to  observe  how  seemingly  opposite  dispositions  are 
balanced  in  the  Word  of  God.  How  is  industry  commended 
and  slothfulness  condemned  in  that  precious  volume,  and  yet 
in  that  same  Book  is  it  said,  "  Labor  not  to  be  rich  ;"  "  La- 
bor not  for  the  bread  that  perisheth  ;"  "  Lay  not  up  for 
yourselves  treasures  on  earth  ;"  "  They  that  will  be  rich  fall 
into  temptation  and  a  snare,  and  into  many  foolish  and  hurt- 
ful lusts  which  drown  men  in  destruction  ;  for  the  love  of 
money  is  the  root  of  all  evil,  which  while  some  have  coveted 
after,  they  have  erred  from  the  faith,  and  pierced  themselves 
through  with  many  sorrows."  Does  not  this  look  like  con- 
tradiction .''  If  it  does — it  is  not  so  in  reality.  These 
seemingly  opposing  passages  are  intended  to  teach  us  that 
we  are  neither  to  despise  money,  nor  to  be  fond  of  it.  Diffi- 
cult I  know  it  is  to  define  covetousness — to  draw  the  line 
with  precision  between  idolatry  and  contempt  of  wealth — 
and  to  state  that  exact  regard  to  money  which  industry  re- 
quires to  stimulate  and  reward  its  energies,  and  which  both 
reason  and  revelation  justify.  When,  however,  wealth  ia 
considered  as  the  chief  end  of  life,  and  is  exclusively  sought, 
to  the  entire  neglect  of  religion — when  it  is  pursued  at  the 
expense  of  principle  and  honor — when  it  is  the  first  thing 
coveted,  and  the  last  thing  relinquished — when  it  is  loved 
for  its  own  sake,  instead  of  its  uses — when  it  is  hoarded  for 
the  sake  of  mere  accumulation,  instead  of  being  diffused  for 
God's  glory,  and  man's  benefit — when  it  is  regarded  as  tha 


234  TUE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

standard  of  individual  importance  both  for  ourselves  and 
others — it  has  then  become  the  tyrant  of  the  soul,  which  it 
has  enslaved,  it  may  be  with  fetters  of  silver  and  gold,  but 
which  is  not  the  less  a  miserable  bond  slave  because  of  the 
splendor  and  value  of  its  manacles. 

7.  Perseverance  is  also  necessary  to  success.  Without 
this  nothing  good  or  great  can  be  achieved  in  our  world. 
Success  is  not  so  much  a  creation,  as  a  gradual  formation — 
a  slow  deposit.  In  business  it  usually  proceeds  on  the  prin- 
ciple of  arithmetical  progression,  till  at  a  certain  stage,  and 
and  in  some  few  instances,  it  changes  its  ratio  of  increase  to 
that  of  geometrical  progression.  The  ascent  in  life  is  usually 
the  reverse  of  that  of  a  mountain.  In  the  latter  case  the 
steepest  part  is  near  the  summit ;  in  the  former  at  the  base. 
Both,  however,  require,  perseverance.  He  that  would  suc- 
ceed must  not  expect  to  reach  his  object  bj/  a  light,  easy,  and 
elastic  bound.,  but  by  many  a  successive  and  weary  step,  and 
occasionally  perhaps,  by  a  step  backwards.  He  must  go  on 
sometimes  amidst  discouragement,  and  always  with  labor. 
There  are  some  who  cannot  succeed,  because  they  will  not 
wait  for  it.  If  success  does  not  come  at  first  they  will  not 
follow  after  it.  They  are  as  impatient  as  the  foolish  child 
that  sowed  his  seed  in  the  morning,  and  went  to  bed  hopeless 
and  crying  because  he  did  not  see  it  springing  up  beforo 
sunset.  Be  ever  hopeful  —  prayerful  —  and  persevering. 
"  In  the  morning  sow  thy  seed,  and  in  the  evening  withhold 
not  thy  hand,  for  thou  knowest  not  whether  shall  prosper 
either  this  or  that,  or  whether  they  both  shall  be  alike  good." 
"  Behold  the  husbandman  waiteth  for  the  precious  fruit  of 
the  earth,  and  hath  long  patience  for  it.  Be  ye  also 
p.'itient." 

8.  The  possession  or  the  want  of  religion^  will  have  con- 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILURE    IN    BUSINESS.  235 

jiderable  influence  upon  success  or  failure.  Not  that  I 
mean  to  say  all  religious  persons  will  be  prosperous,  and  that 
all  irreligious  ones  sink  to  adversity.  But  of  this  we  may  be 
sure,  that  piety  contains  most  of  those  qualities  which  tend 
to  success,  while  sin,  where  it  leads  on,  as  it  frequently  does, 
to  vice,  tends,  to  ruin.  God  has  some  better  promises  than 
of  wealth  and  honor  for  his  people,  even  glory  everlasting ; 
but  then  godliness,  as  we  have  often  said,  has  the  promise 
of  the  life  that  now  is,  as  well  as  of  that  which  is  to  come. 
Wisdom,  as  we  saw  in  the  last  sermon,  has  riches  and  honor 
in  her  right  hand,  for  those  who  submit  to  her  sway.  It  is 
quite  certain  that  many  who  have  come  to  poverty  and  ruin 
have  been  dragged  down  by  iniquity,  while  many  have  suc- 
ceeded who  owe  their  prosperity  to  their  piety.  We  have 
examples  of  this  in  Holy  Scripture.  Religion  made  Joseph 
prosper  in  the  house  of  Potiphar,  and  raised  him  to  the 
eminence  he  obtained  in  Egypt.  Religion  elevated  David 
to  the  throne  of  Israel.  Religion  made  Daniel  prime  minister 
of  Babylon.  Religion  made  Nehemiah  governor  of  Judea. — 
And  though  we  may  not  expect  such  and  so  great  rewards,  it 
may  still  bring  prosperity.  It  is  the  parent  of  virtue,  the 
protector  of  health,  the  nurse  of  economy,  the  patron  of 
industry,  the  guardian  of  integrity,  the  promoter  of  know- 
ledge, and  thus  the  guide  to  success  and  the  helper  of 
prosperity. 

And  now  let  me  set  before  you  the  two  young  men  whom 
I  have  supposed  to  set  out  in  life  together,  the  one  actually 
failing,  and  the  other  as  really  succeeding,  in  business. 

Failure  is  a  word,  in  such  an  application  of  it,  pregnant 
with  terrors.  What  a  variety,  complication,  and  depth  of 
sorrows  are  there  in  that  very  simple  and  not  uncommou 
expressiin,  "  He  has  failed  in  business.''''     You  are  happily 


236  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

unable  by  reflection,  may  you  never  be  able  by  experience 
to  grasp  that  comprehension  of  wretchedness. 

Now,  young  men,  I  present  the  fearful  subject,  the  dread 
ful  possibility  to  you,  first  of  all,  to  excite  a  desire,  an  anxiety, 
an  earnest  solicitude,  that  in  your  case  it  may  never  be 
realized.  Prevention  is  better  than  cure.  It  is  easier  to 
avert  ruin  by  industry  and  economy,  than  to  bring  back  pros- 
perity when  it  has  once  retired.  Be  this  easier  task  then 
your  first  care  and  endeavor.  For  you,  ruin  is  yet  happily 
only  in  picture  ;  a  scene  for  the  imagination  to  contemplate  : 
except,  indeed,  as  the  reality  is  seen  in  the  history  of  some 
acquaintance.  Though  it  were  not  well  to  fill  your  mind 
with  dark  imaginings  and  gloomy  forebodings,  lest  such 
thoughts  become  predictions,  and  the  predictions  verify  by 
fulfilling  themselves, — yet  is  it  well  to  look  at  the  dreadful 
picture,  in  order  not  indeed  to  quail  before  it,  but  to  bring 
up  your  mind  to  the  determination,  "  By  God's  grace  upon 
my  own  intelligence,  industry,  economy,  and  perseverance, 
this  shall  never  be  my  lot ,  but  if,  in  the  mysteries  of  Provi- 
dence, it  should  befal  me,  it  shall  not  be  made  more  dreadful 
by  the  venom  of  self-reproach — it  shall  come  from  the  ordi- 
nation of  God,  and  not  from  my  own  misconduct." 

Still  I  will  suppose  that  you  may^  and  that  some  of  you 
wUl  fail.  What  then  ?  The  answer  to  this  depends  upon 
the  causes  of  the  disaster.  1  will  not  deny  that  this  in  some 
cases  is  to  be  traced  entirely  to  the  dispensations  of  Provi- 
dence, without  any  blame  to  the  individual  himself.  I  would 
not  break  the  bruised  reed  by  heaping  censure  upon  one 
who  is  an  object  of  pity  and  sympathy.  I  would  not  pour 
vinegar  into  the  wounds  of  his  lacerated  heart,  and  quite 
crush  his  broken  spirits,  by  telling  him  that  his  misfortunes 
a,ie  his  faults.     If,  after  exercising  the  abilities  and  virtuef 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  237 

(K  {*^tOL  traieRmaa,  after  struggling  hard  and  long,  it  should 
bo  j'O^ir  iot  to  he  compelled  to  yield  to  difficulties  utterly 
in&tipeycUe  by  skill  and  labor, — in  that  case,  first  of  all, 
bow  with  submission  to  the  will  of  God.  Indulge  no  hard 
thoughts  of  God.  Keep  down  a  gloomy  hopelessness  a 
sullen  despondency,  a  comfortless  grief.  Call  in  religion  to 
your  aid.  Open  your  Bible.  Pour  out  your  heart  in  prayer. 
Believe  in  God,  in  Providence,  in  Christ.  Take  it  as  matter 
to  be  relied  upon,  that  there  is  some  wise  and  merciful  end 
to  be  answered  by  these  painful  events.  Perhaps  you  were 
setting  out  in  life,  forgetful  of  God.  You  were  striving  to 
make  yourself  happy  without  him.  You  were  entering  upon 
your  career  in  a  state  of  practical  atheism.  Success  in  busi- 
ness would  have  been  your  spiritual  ruin.  The  gain  of  the 
world  would  have  been  tho  loss  of  your  soul.  God  spake 
unto  you  in  what  you  thoughi.  was  your  procperity  and  you 
would  not  hear  :  and  now  he  eslh  to  you  in  harsher  tones, 
and  says  to  you  in  the  language  of  the  text,  consider. 
Consider  the  author  of  your  troubles — that  they  come  from 
God :  their  cause — that  sin  is  the  bitv'er  fountain  of  every 
bitter  stream  :  their  design — to  do  you  good  :  and  their  im- 
pressive lesson — to  teach  the  vanity  of  all  things  earthly, 
and  the  necessity  of  a  better  portion  for  man's  heart.  Ah, 
young  man,  you  have  indeed  sorrowfully  proved  the  uncer- 
tainty  of  all  things  earthly.  How  soon  and  how  suddenly 
has  the  beautiful  prospect,  which  expanded  its  varied  land- 
scape before  your  admiring  eyes  and  glowing  heart,  been 
covered  with  mist  and  gloom.  How  have  all  those  ardent 
hopes  which  such  a  scene  inspired,  withered  in  your  soul  and 
left  it  bleak  and  desolate.  Well,  amidst  the  fragments  of 
your  broken  cisterns,  now  look  up  to  the  great  fountain  of 
happiness,  pouring  out  its  never  failing  streams  before  you 


238  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

Earth  has  failed  ;  now  turn  to  heaven.  The  world  has  dio- 
appointed  you,  now  turn  to  religion.  The  creature  has  for- 
saken you  ;  now  turn  to  the  Creator.     All  is  not  lost. 

Besides,  you  may  yet  recover.  You  have  failed — but  it  is 
in  early  life,  not  in  its  decline.  You  have  the  main  portion 
of  existence  yet  before  you,  and  have  health  and  vigor  on 
your  side  and  in  your  favor ;  and  in  the  case  I  am  supposing 
with  your  character  unimpaired  and  your  principles  unsuspec- 
ted. It  may  be  only  a  step  back  to  spring  forward  with 
greater  vigor.  It  may  be  prosperity  postponed,  not  put  off 
for  ever.  This  painful  experience  might  be  necessary  for 
you.  It  may  be  to  prevent  a  sudden  plethora  which  would 
have  been  fatal  to  you.  Abandon  not  hope  then.  Do  not 
let  the  mainspring  be  broken.  Give  not  youself  to  despair. 
The  sun  is  not  gone  down,  but  is  only  veiled  with  a  cloud. 
Begin  afresh — make  good  use  of  your  experience.  Look 
up  for  God's  blessing ;  and  you  will  have  it. 

But  where  the  failure  is  the  result  of  blame-worthy  con- 
duct, what  shall  be  said  ?  Even  here  I  would  not  be  harsh, 
severe,  and  reproachful ;  but  would  blend  tenderness  with 
fidelity.  Be  humble  before  God.  Your  want  of  attention, 
industry,  and  economy,  is  a  sin  to  be  confessed  to  Him,  as 
well  as  a  matter  to  be  bewailed  on  your  own  account.  You 
have  neglected  God's  commands,  as  well  as  your  own  inte- 
rests. You  have  abused  the  gifts  of  Providence,  as  well  as 
trifled  with  your  own  happiness.  And  you  cannot  be  in  a 
right  state  of  mind  unless  there  be  penitence,  humiliation, 
and  confession.  God  is  displeased  with  you ;  and  you  must 
seek  his  forgiveness  through  faith  in  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 
You  must  take  care  to  blame  yourself,  not  God,  for  your 
present  situation.  Especially  must  you  be  careful  not  to 
apply  to  wrong  sources  of  relief.     Misfortune  and  miscon- 


SUCCEEDING    OR   FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  239 

duct  have  led,  in  thousands  of  instances,  to  drinking.  Broken 
in  fortune,  and  equally  broken  in  spirits,  men  have  endea- 
vored to  gain  a  momentary  oblivion  of  their  sorrows  in  tho 
exhilaration  or  stupefaction  of  intoxication  liquor.  Dread- 
ful resort.  What  is  this  but  to  add  crime  to  misery,  and 
when  the  effect  of  the  poisonous  draught  is  over,  to  over- 
whelm the  miserable  dupe  of  intoxication  with  sorrows 
envenomed  by  the  stings  of  remorse  !  It  is  indeed  a  horrible 
idea,  but  one  that  is  often  realized,  that  drunkenness  should 
select  some  of  its  many  victims  from  the  ranks  of  misfortune, 
and  thus  complete  the  ruin  which  incompetency  or  indolence 
had  begun,  by  depriving  the  subject  of  it  of  all  power  and  all 
disposition  to  repair  the  mischief  which  his  vices  had  entailed. 
But  I  now,  in  contrast,  take  up  the  case  of  those  who 
succeed  ;  a  happy,  and  I  rejoice  to  think,  not  a  very  small 
class.  It  is  a  delightful,  and  to  you  my  young  friends,  an 
encouraging  thought,  that  success,  varied  of  course  in 
degrees,  is  the  rule,  and  failure  the  exception.  Conceive 
then  of  the  man  who  by  the  blessing  of  God  upon  his  ability, 
industry,  and  economy,  makes  good  his  ground,  and  advances 
in  life  to  respectable  competency,  perhaps  to  affluence.  The 
text  calls  upon  him  to  be  joyful ;  a  state  of  mind,  in  which 
without  such  call,  he  is  likely  to  be  found.  A  Christian 
is  to  be  joyful  not  only  in^  but /or  his  prosperity.  His  joy, 
however,  should  be  a  religious,  not  a  sensual  joy.  He  is  not 
to  express  his  delight  by  conviviality,  extravagance,  splen- 
dor, and  all  the  other  delights  of  sense  and  taste.  He  is 
piously  to  trace  up  all  his  prosperity  to  God.  He  is  not 
boastfully  to  look  round  upon  his  possessions,  and  say,  "  My 
own  hand  hath  gotten  me  this  ;"  and  thus,  to  use  the  lan- 
guage of  the  prophet,  "  Sacrifice  unto  their  own  net,  and 
burn  incense  to  their  dragy  because  by  them  their  j^ortion  is 
11 


240  TliE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

fat^  and  their  meat  plenteous.'^''  Hab.  i.  16.  let  your  joy 
be  subordinate  to  a  higher  and  nobler  felicity.  I  mean  the 
felicity  derived  from  true  religion.  Prosperity,  if  it  has  its 
joys,  has  also  its  snares.  It  is,  as  regards  the  moral  char- 
acter— the  interests  of  the  soul,  and  man's  eternal  destiny — 
a  most  perilous  condition.  "  How  hardly  shall  they  that 
have  riches  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  God.  It  is  easier  for 
a  camel  to  go  through  the  eye  of  a  needle,  than  for  a  rich 
man  to  enter  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven."  "  The  prosperity 
of  fools  shall  slay  them."  Multitudes  have  lost  their  souls 
in  gaining  a  fortune.  Their  wealth  has  been  their  curse. 
Their  gold,  the  weight  that  dragged  them  down  to  perdition. 
And  after  all,  "  What  shall  it  profit  a  man,  if  he  gain  the 
whole  world,  and  lose  his  own  soul.^"  The  whole  world  is 
no  more  compensation  for  the  loss  of  the  soul,  than  a  feather 
or  a  grain  of  sand.  "  Seek  first  the  kingdom  of  Grod  and  his 
righteousness,  and  all  these  things  shall  be  added  to  you." 
Be  made  happy  by  religion.  "Hejoice  in  Hit  Lordj  and 
again  I  say,  rejoice." 

But  the  best  way  to  use,  to  enjoy,  and  even  to  preserve 
prosperity,  is  to  sanctify  it  by  true  religion  and  to  employ  it 
for  Christian  liberality.  Set  out  in  life  with  the  intelligent, 
deliberate,  and  fixed  determination,  that  if  you  should  suc- 
ceed in  business,  your  prosperity  shall  in  due  measure  be 
consecrated  to  the  cause  of  Grod  and  man.  Already  make  up 
your  mind  to  this  opinion,  that  the  chief  design,  and  highest 
enjoyment  of  wealth,  is  diffusion,  rather  than  accumulaticu. 
Instead  of  admiring  the  men  whom  you  see  living  in  splendid 
houses,  rolling  about  in  gay  equipages,  and  faring  sumptu- 
ously every  day ;  but  who  all  this  while  are  known  by  their 
grandeur,  but  not  by  their  public  spirit,  liberality,  and  good 
works — fix  your  delighted  gaze  upon  those  nobler  spirits^ 


SUCCEEDING    OR    FAILING    IN    BUSINESS.  241 

who  while  sustaining  with  propriety,  yet  simplicity,  the  rank 
which  Providence  has  assigned  to  them  in  society,  are 
economical  that  they  might  be  liberal,  and  are  redeeming 
time  from  business,  ease  and  elegant  retirement  to  glorify 
God  and  bless  their  species.  Look  at  the  Howards,  the 
Wilberforces,  the  Thorntons,  the  Wilsons,  the  Reynolds' — 
men  who  gave  their  talents,  their  influence,  and  their  lives, 
to  the  slave,  the  prisoner,  and  the  debtor — who  renounced, 
in  some  cases,  the  gains  of  business  for  the  pursuits  of  be- 
nevolence ;  and  in  others,  carried  it  on,  to  have  larger  means 
to  assist  the  cause  of  humanity  and  religion — who  lived  for 
others  rather  than  for  themselves — and  who  had  far  more 
enjoyment  while  they  lived,  and  will  ever  have  far  more 
honor  after  their  death,  than  the  sordid  and  selfish,  whose 
wealth,  while  it  did  little  to  make  them  happy  or  respected 
upon  earth,  will  neither  preserve  their  names  from  oblivion, 
nor  yield  them  a  fragment  of  reward  in  heaven. 

Wait  not  till  you  are  rich  before  you  begin  to  be  benevo- 
lent. Let  the  beginnings  of  your  success  be  consecrated  by 
the  beginnings  of  your  devotedness.  I  knew  a  Christian 
philanthropist  who  set  out  in  life  by  consecrating  a  tenth  of 
his  income  to  God.  He  did  this  when  he  had  but  a  hundred 
a  year.  He  became  at  length  possessed  of  eight  thousand  a 
year,  and  having  no  children,  he  did  not  then  satisfy  himself 
with  the  tithe,  as  he  had  commenced,  but  spent  less  than 
two  thousand  a  year  on  his  own  simple  and  elegant  estab- 
lishment, and  gave  all  the  rest  away.  How  much  happier, 
as  well  as  holier,  was  that  Christian  man,  than  those  who 
hoard  for  they  know  not  whom — or  than  those  who  lavish 
their  wealth  on  splendor,  luxury,  and  pleasure  :  and,  0,  the 
different  reception  he  will  meet  with  at  the  bar  of  God, 
where  wealth  must  be  accounted  for — and  in  eternity,  where 


242  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

the  successful,  but  irreligious  worldling  will  remember  and 
be  punished  for  his  unsanctified  prosperity  ! 

And  now,  in  conclusion,  let  me  remind  you  of  another 
reference  of  this  alternative  of  failure  or  success — I  mean  to 
the  great  trial  ever  going  on  in  this  world,  and  which  must 
issue  in  the  ruin  or  the  salvation  of  your  immortal  soul. 
You  are  here  upon  a  probation  for  eternity.  Your  chief 
business  is  religion — your  supreme  object  should  be  immor- 
tality. He  that  is  enabled  to  repent,  to  believe,  and  to  lead 
a  holy  life,  notwithstanding  the  temptations  by  which  he  is 
surrounded — who  thus  obtains  the  salvation  that  is  in  Christ 
Jesus,  with  eternal  glory — though  he  should  fail  in  every 
thing  else,  may  look  round  upon  the  wreck  of  all  his  hopes, 
prospects,  and  fortunes,  exulting  even  now  in  the  greatness 
and  the  grandeur  of  his  success — and  shall  stand,  at  the  last 
day,  upon  the  ashes  of  the  globe,  after  the  general  conflagra- 
tion, exclaiming,  '"''  I  have  lost  nothing.''^  While  he,  who  so 
far  succeeds  as  to  gain  every  thing  else  that  is  dear  to  ambi- 
tion, to  avarice,  and  to  sensuality,  but  fails  to  obtain  the  one 
thing  needful — the  salvation  of  his  soul — stands  now  amidst 
all  his  prosperity,  a  miserable  instance  of  failure  in  all  the 
great  objects  of  man's  immortal  being — shall  be  seen  in  the 
day  of  judgment,  a  ruined  and  lost  immortal, — and  shall 
wander  for  ever  through  the  universe,  with  this  awful  ex- 
clamation, "  1  HAVE  VOLUNTARILY,  DELIBERATELY,  AND 
IRRECOVERABLY  INCURRED  A  FAILURE,  WHICH  WILL  RE- 
QUIRE  AN  ETERNITY   TO  UNDERSTAND,  AND  AN  ETERNITY  TO 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  EMIGRATING  TO  A  FOREIGl 
COUNTRY. 


"Whither  shall  I  go  from  thy  Spirit ?  Or  whither  shall  I  flee  frojn 
thy  presence  ? 

"  If  I  ascend  up  into  heaven,  thou  art  there  ;  if  I  make  my  bed  in 
hell,  behold  thou  art  there. 

"  If  I  take  the  wings  of  the  morning  and  dwell  in  the  uttermost  parts 
of  the  sea,  even  there  shall  thy  hand  lead  me  and  thy  right  hand  shall 
hold  me." — Psalm  cxxxix.  7-10. 

God  made  this  world  to  be  inhabited,  and  did  not  intend 
that  it  should  ever  remain  an  untenanted  bouse,  or  be  occu- 
pied only  by  beings  who  have  no  minds  to  understand  his 
nature — no  hearts  to  love  him  for  his  favors — and  no  tongues 
to  speak  his  praise.  To  man  as  well  as  to  the  inferior  crea- 
tures he  said,  "  Be  fruitful  and  multiply  and  replenish  the 
earth."  And  yet  at  this  period  of  our  planet's  history,  nearly 
six  thousand  years  after  the  fitting  up  of  the  globe  for  man's 
residence,  there  are  vast  tracts  of  the  earth,  amounting  to 
islands  and  continents,  occupied  only  by  birds,  beasts,  and 
reptiles.  Yet  even  the  fact  of  these  desolations  subserves  a 
moral  purpose,  inasmuch  as  they  corroborate  the  chronology 
of  the  Bible  ;  for,  upon  the  acknowledged  principles  of  the 
increase  of  population,  the  date  of  the  commencement  of 


244  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

our  race  could  not  be  much  otherwise  than  that  assigned  to 
it  in  revelation.  These  now  unpeopled  regions  must  have 
been  long  since  filled  up,  had  the  world  been  much  older 
than  is  asserted  in  the  Mosaic  history  of  creation.  Upon 
the  same  principles  it  is  evident  that  this  world  cannot  con- 
tinue an  indefinite  period,  at  least  without  some  depopula- 
ting process  with  which  we  are  unacquainted  in  the  world's 
history. 

Our  earth  is  yet  to  "  yield  it's  increase," — the  Trans-atlan- 
tic  world,  capable  of  sustaining  half  the  present  population 
of  the  globe,  but  till  lately  tenanted  only  by  savages  in 
the  north,  and  a  half-civilised  race  in  the  south — yea,  till 
within  four  centuries  unknown  to  all  the  other  people  on 
the  face  of  the  globe  :  the  island  continent  of  New  Holland, 
with  only  a  scattered  sprinkling  of  savages  for  its  aboriginal 
inhabitants  :  the  Polynesian  groups  of  insular  abodes  of  our 
race  :  with  all  other  yet  uninhabited  spots  of  earth  wljere 
means  of  support  and  occupation  for  man  can  be  obtained, 
are  to  be  covered  with  an  intelligent,  busy  population ;  and 
where  now  the  forest  throws  its  dark  shadow  over  its  innu- 
merable flying  or  creeping  tribes — or  where  the  wilderness  is 
the  range  of  herds  of  untamed  beasts — or  where  the  jungle 
afibrds  a  shelter  to  the  tiger,  the  elephant,  or  the  serpent — 
there  shall  the  dwellings  of  men  and  the  sanctuaries  of  God 
be  seen  ;  and  the  hum  of  commerce,  and  the  anthems  of 
religion  be  heard. 

The  replenishing  of  our  earth  is  going  forward  :  never 
more  rapidly  than  in  the  day  and  from  the  country  in  which 
we  live.  Colonization  and  emigration  are  two  of  the  grand- 
est features  of  our  age.  Infant  kingdoms  are  being  born  to 
Britain,  and  our  country  is  becoming  the  mother  of  nations. 
Myriads  and  myriads,  year  after  year,  are  wafted  not  only  in 


EMIGPvATIXG    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  245 

ships,  but  we  might  almost  say  in  fleets,  to  the  shores  of 
America,  Australia,  and  New  Zealand.  The  vast  tide  of 
population  is  flowing  westward  to  relieve  our  somewhat  over- 
crowded towns  and  cities,  and  to  found  new  towns  and  cities 
in  the  wilds  of  those  distant  realms.  Thus  are  the  plans  of 
Providence  carried  out,  to  have  a  peopled  world  instead  of  a 
wilderness  :  and  thus  are  the  predictions  of  holy  writ  accom- 
plished, which  assure  us  that  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord 
shall  cover  the  earth.  Every  thing  falls  into  the  current  of 
God's  gracious  purposes  towards  our  dark  disordered  world — ■ 
every  thing  indicates  human  improvement  and  the  progress 
of  social  existence — every  thing  flows  in  the  direction  of  the 
Bible  and  harmonises  with  its  tendency,  design,  and  announce- 
ments— every  thing  is  making  way  for  the  universal  spread 
and  triumph  of  religion,  for  the  reign  of  Christ,  for  the 
millennial  glory  and  the  jubilee  of  the  world. 

You,  my  friends,  some  of  you  at  least,  may  by  joining  the 
multitude  of  emigrants  be  instrumental  in  this  great  work  of 
replenishing  the  earth  with  people,  and  by  true  religion,  of 
carrying  the  light  of  divine  truth  to  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

This  then  is  my  subject  on  the  present  occasion, — 

The  Young  Man  eviigrating  to  a  Foreign  Land. 

In  treating  this  subject,  I  shall  consider 

First,  his  decision.  1  will  suppose  the  resolve  is  taken — 
the  plan  laid — the  purpose  unalterable.  But  what  has  led  to 
it  ?  There  are  various  and  very  different  motives  and  grounds 
for  such  a  step.  In  some  cases  it  is  obedience  to  the  stern 
dictate  of  necessity.  Misconduct  at  home  renders  it  matter 
of  compulsion  rather  than  of  choice,  to  go  abroad  ;  it  is  a 
flight  rather  than  a  voluntary  departure.  Reputation  may 
have  been  lost,  and  lost  also  the  hope  of  retrieving  it  here. 
This  is  a  painful  case — but  not  a  hopeless  one.     If  this  be 


246  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

your  condition,  you  will  have  abundant  and  most  favorablo 
opportunities  for  rectifying  what  is  amiss,  without  being  sub- 
ject to  the  suspicion,  neglect,  rebukes,  and  frowns  of  those 
who  knew  you  in  your  better  days.  On  your  voyage  reflect 
upon  your  conduct,  review  the  past.  Dare  to  look  back. 
When  pacing  the  deck  at  night,  or  lying  in  your  hammock, 
or  listening  to  the  awful  roar  of  the  tempest,  not  knowing 
but  you  may  be  soon  .swallowed  up  in  those  billows  which 
are  raging  around  you,  and  which  every  now  and  then  are 
breaking  over  your  trembling  vessel,  repent  before  God — 
seek  his  pardoning  mercy  through  Christ — and  implore  his 
Holy  Spirit  to  help  you  first  to  resolve  upon  amendment, 
and  then  to  carry  out  your  resolution.  Determine  to  begin  a 
new  life  in  a  new  world.  Resolve  to  set  out  afresh.  There 
is  hope  for  you  yet.  Carry  a  Bible  with  you — read  it — and 
make  it  your  counsellor,  comforter,  and  companion.  You 
have  neglected  religion  and  your  sins  have  found  you  out. 
You  are  in  imminent  danger  of  becoming  worse  instead  of 
better  for  the  change.  Bad  companions  may  have  been  your 
ruin.  You  will  now  be  broken  off  from  their  circle — but 
then,  unless  you  are  firm,  you  will  find  worse  where  you  are 
going.  You  have  neglected  religion  and  this  has  been  your 
bane.  Now  take  it  up,  and  it  will  not  only  reclaim  and 
reform  you,  but  it  will  be  your  friend  in  reference  to  things 
seen  and  temporal  as  well  as  things  eternal.  If  you  are  wise, 
you  will  turn  this  dire  necessity  of  leaving  your  country 
into  a  means  of  obtaining  the  signal  blessing  of  the  salvation 
of  your  soul.  I  knew  a  youth,  the  son  of  an  eminently  holy 
minister,  who  ran  a  profligate  course  till  his  crimes  cast  him 
as  a  convict  upon  the  shore  of  a  foreign  land,  where  he 
reflected  upon  his  course — became  a  penitent — and  died, 
we  hope,  a  sincere  Christian.     Nor  is  this  the  only  case  oJ 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  247 

the  same  kind  I  have  known.  Even  our  penal  colonies, 
notwithstanding  the  enormities  of  the  transportation  system, 
have  thus  furnished  instances  of  reclaimed  convicts,  who  have 
risen  to  respectability  and  wealth.  The  veriest  outcast  ot 
society  may  recover.  Reformation  is  not  impossible  in  the 
worst  of  cases. 

But  there  may  be  another  kind  of  necessity  that  is  driving 
you  away  from  your  native  shores — you  have  failed  at  the 
outset  of  life.  Your  prospects  have  faded — your  fortunes 
have  been  broken,  and  now  with  the  hope  of  repairing  them, 
you  are  going  to  a  foreign  land.  If  this  has  happened 
through  your  own  misconduct — you  too  must  be  humbled 
before  God,  and  invoke  his  forgiveness  ;  and  when  you  have 
done  this,  but  not  till  then,  you  may  seek  his  blessing  upon 
the  step  you  are  taking.  Employ  much  of  your  time  also  in 
a  severe  inquiry  into  your  habits.  Detect,  as  you  easily 
may,  the  cause  of  failure,  and  determine  to  remove  it.  The 
same  cause,  if  carried  to  a  distant  land,  will  produce  the 
same  effects  there.  Change  of  country  will  not  be  of  the 
slightest  benefit  to  you  without  a  change  of  conduct  Indo- 
lence and  extravagance  will  as  certainly  bring  ruin  in  Austra- 
lia as  in  England.  You  must  alter,  and  may.  A  new  sphere 
of  action  will  present  a  new  opportunity  for  alteration,  and  a 
new  motive.  But  should  your  failure  be  the  result  of  no 
fault  of  yours,  trust  in  God.  Earnestly  pray  for  his  help  and 
blessing.  Leave  your  country  with  hope.  It  may  be  that 
you  too  neglected  religion  in  your  happier  days.  If  so,  now 
take  it  up.  I  say  to  you  also,  carry  with  you  a  Bible,  and  a 
few  religious  books.  Have  the  moral  courage  not  to  be 
ashamed  of  being  seen  with  these  silent  companions.  You 
will  find  many  on  board  who  will  ridicule  you,  but  then  shall 
they  laugh  you  out  of  your  convictions  }  Will  you  be  afraid 
11* 


248  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

of  a  sneer,  when  your  soul  and  salvation  are  at  stake  ?  Do 
not  put  oflf  the  subject  of  religion  till  you  land.  This  will  be 
to  ensure  the  neglect  of  it.  Your  mind  will  then  be  so  hur- 
ried in  seeking  employment,  and  be  so  taken  up  with  the 
novelties  of  a  foreign  country,  as  to  have  little  leisure  or 
inclination  for  attending  to  spiritual  things.  With  religion 
in  your  heart,  you  may  step  ashore  in  New  Zealand  or  in 
America,  with  the  hope  that  Grod  will  befriend  you  in  the 
land  of  your  adoption  ;  and  that  the  tide  of  your  affairs  will 
there  turn  in  your  favor. 

But  by  far  the  greatest  class  of  emigrants  is  composed  of 
those  who  go  out  with  a  spirit  of  adventure — with  the  hope 
of  doing  better  for  themselves  abroad  than  at  home.  Every 
department  of  action  is  here  so  crowded — competition  is  so 
fierce — and  situations  of  advantage  are  so  rare,  that  they 
have  little  hope  of  success  at  home,  and  turn  their  attention 
to  one  or  other  of  our  rising  colonies.  I  know  not  that  such 
persons  arc  to  be  blamed ;  and  yet  it  is  a  step  to  be  taken 
with  much  deliberation,  caution,  and  prayer.  Where  a  young 
man  has  an  opportunity  of  doing  well  for  himself  in  his  own 
country,  there  seems  no  reason,  except  it  be  an  inordinate 
ambition  or  a  love  of  adventure,  that  leads  him  to  another 
land.  Neither  of  these  impulses  is  a  very  sufficient  one  for 
expatriation.  There  will  always  be  found  an  adequate  num- 
ber of  those  who  really  are  not  doing  very  well  here,  and 
could  do  a  great  deal  better  abroad,  to  keep  up  the  stream 
of  emigration,  without  their  going  who  are  doing  well  at 
home.  There  is  great  wisdom  in  the  advice,  to  "  let  well 
alone."  A  love  of  change  is  a  dark  portent  in  the  character 
of  any  young  man.  He  that  goes  abroad  for  this,  will  soon 
come  back  again  from  the  same  impulse.  There  is  nothing 
which  a  young  man  should  more  earnestly  dread,  nothing 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  249 

he  should  more  assiduously  watch  against,  nothing  ha 
should  more  resolutely  resist,  than  this  versatility  :  it  will 
be  fatal  to  all  his  hopes  and  prospects.  Still  there  are  very 
many  cases  in  which  it  is  not  only  justifiable,  but  even  com" 
mendable,  to  emigrate :  and  when  the  character  and  conduct 
are  good ;  where  there  are  those  qualities  of  mind  which  are 
likely  to  make  the  individual  a  blessing  to  the  land  to  which 
he  is  going  as  well  as  a  benefit  to  his  own  family  and  fortune, 
we  cannot  but  approve  the  decision. 

Secondly.  Having  thus  distinguished  between  the  difierent 
classes  of  emigrants,  I  now  shall  speak  of  their  trials. 

In  most  cases  there  is  the  separation  from  friends.  Not 
unfrequently  the  emigrant  has  to  tear  himself  from  the  arms 
and  fond  embrace  of  a  loving  and  beloved  mother,  and  from 
the  warm  grasp  of  an  affectionate  father ;  and  he  who  has 
outgrown  or  outlived  all  sensibilities  of  this  nature,  gives 
poor  evidence  of  right  feeling  of  any  kind,  and  holds  out 
faint  hope  of  being  likely  to  obtain  God's  blessing  upon  his 
future  course.  Adieu,  is  always  a  sad  sound,  when  parents 
and  children — brothers  and  sisters,  are  parting  ;  but  especially 
when  in  all  probability,  thoy  are  parting  for  ever.  And 
besides  this,  is  it  nothing  to  expatriate  ourselves  from  our 
native  land .?  Why  the  irrational  creatures  love  the  spot  of 
their  birth,  and  their  early  dwelling ;  and  this  is  an  instinct 
which  man  shares  with  them.  It  is  long  before  the  charms 
of  those  expressions  cease  to  be  felt,  "  My  country  and  my 
father's  house."  I  can  fancy  the  thoughtful  emigrant 
watching  from  the  deck  of  his  vessel,  with  tearful  eyes  and 
intense  feeling,  the  receding  shores  of  his  native  land — seeing 
her  green  fields  and  white  cliffs  ;  her  steeples  and  her  houses ; 
becoming  more  and  more  dim — straining  his  eyes  still  to  see 
the  last  speck  of  land  that  is  distinctly  visible — and  then 


250  THE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

looking  upon  the  mighty  waste  of  waters,  till  in  an  agony  he 
exclaims,  "  Land  of  my  fathers,  and  art  thou  gone  r"  Then 
the  voyage — its  length — its  inconvenience — its  hard  fare  and 
want  of  accommodations — its  sea-sickness,  and  other  inde- 
scribable annoyances — its  often  disagreeable  companions  and 
uncongenial  society.  These  things  end,  but  only  to  be 
exchanged  in  many  cases  for  trials  of  another  kind.  Oh,  to 
light  upon  a  new  world,  alike  unknowing  and  unknown — to 
be  a  stranger  in  a  strange  land  with  no  one  to  recognize  or 
smile  upon  him — to  be  informed  that  some  whom  he  expected 
to  welcome  him  on  these  distant  shores,  arc  either  dead  or 
removed  to.  another  place  ;  and  to  meet  no  one  to  stretch  out 
the  hand  of  friendship,  or  to  impress  the  seal  of  love — to 
have  to  seek  employment  where  perhaps  the  labor  market 
is  overstocked,  and  to  be  long  without  finding  occupation — 
to  see  the  little  stock  of  money  well  nigh  spent,  without  any 
means  of  replenishing  it — to  find  all  the  dreams  of  colonial 
prosperity  nothing  but  dreams,  and  see  all  the  hopes  of  im- 
mediate success,  so  long  and  so  confidently  cherished,  vanish 
like  the  baseless  fabric  of  a  vision — to  discover  too  late,  or  at 
any  rate  to  begin  to  think,  he  has  made  a  mistake  in  leaving 
his  native  country — these,  all  these,  are  among  the  trials 
which  many  of  our  emigrants  have  to  endure.  And  even 
where  they  are  not  altogether  of  so  dreary  an  aspect  as  this, 
yet  are  they,  except  in  rare  cases,  many  more  and  far  greater 
than  the  most  sober  calculation  had  expected.  A  very  large 
proportion  of  the  settlers  have  their  location  in  such  thinly 
peopled  spots  as  to  be  miles  apart  from  their  nearest  neigh- 
bor— and  have  to  endure  so  many  privations  as  to  be  almost 
reduced  to  the  barest  necessaries  of  existence. 

If  the  man  be  a  Christian  who  loves  the  house  of  God — . 
the  means  of  grace — the  ministry  of  the  Word — the  over* 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  25' 

sight  and  conversation  of  a  faithful  pastor — and  the  fellow- 
ship of  saints,  he  feels  in  addition  a  deprivation  of  all  these 
He  dwells  perhaps,  in  a  spot  of  which  he  may  say, 

"  The  sound  of  the  church-going  bell, 
These  valleys  and  rocks  never  heard  ; 
Never  sighed  at  the  sound  of  the  knell, 
Nor  snniled  when  the  Sabbath  appeared.'* 

To  hear  a  sermon,  he  must  travel  perhaps  miles,  and  to 
break  the  bread  of  communion  with  the  saints,  he  must 
travel  still  farther.  Such  are  but  a  few  of  the  trials  of  an 
emigrant's  life.  I  could  tell  a  tale  of  woe  connected  with 
some  who  have  gone  out  from  my  own  church,  which  would 
harrow  up  your  feelings  to  a  degree  of  intense  suffering. 
Not  however  that  affliction  often  falls  with  such  weight  as  it 
has  done  in  the  case  to  which  I  now  allude. 

Such  things  should  make  you  cautious  how  you  determine 
to  encounter  them,  and  should  prepare  your  mind  for  the 
struggle,  by  laying  up  a  good  store  of  consolation  for  the 
evil  day.  And  what  can  this  be  but  religion  ?  The  trials 
of  very  many  emigrants  are  fewer  and  lighter  than  I  have 
described  ;  and  I  have  drawn  the  picture  thus  darkly,  not  to 
prevent  expatriation  nor  to  fill  the  emigrant's  mind  with 
dark  misgivings,  but  to  check  that  proneness  to  think  a 
foreign  shore  a  fairy  land,  in  which  so  many  indulge.  The 
danger  lies  on  the  side  of  thinking  too  lightly  of  the  trials 
of  such  a  life,  and  not  preparing  for  them,  rather  than  on 
the  side  of  having  too  gloomy  an  apprehension  of  them. 

Thirdly.  It  is  a  part  of  fidelity  to  remind  you  of  your 
DANGERS.  It  would  not  bc  kind  to  attempt  to  fill  your 
mind  with  the  perils  of  the  ocean,  and  the  dangers  of  ship- 
wreck, or  the  other  casualties  of  a  voyage.     Nor  is  it  probabla 


252  THE    YOUNG    NTAn's    FRIEND. 

that  you  will  be  called  to  a  calamity  so  fearful.  I  know  not 
the  proportion  of  fatal  voyages  to  successful  ones,  but  1 
should  suppose  they  are  not  as  one  to  a  hundred.  So  that 
apprehension  of  this  kind  need  not  greatly  alarm  you. 
Still,  your  vessel  may  founder  at  sea,  or  be  wrecked  on  some 
foreign  shore,  and  it  is  well  by  sincere  and  humble  piety  to 
be  prepared  for  the  worst.  Religion  will  enable  you  to  meet 
death  at  sea  in  the  storm,  as  well  as  in  the  calm  on  dryland. 
An  eminent  Christian  minister,  in  the  prospect  of  a  voyage, 
when  contemplating  the  possibility  of  shipwreck,  recorded 
thus  his  feelings  under  the  possibility  of  such  a  catastrophe, 
"  How  willingly  should  1  embrace  that  wave,  which  instead 
of  landing  me  at  Liverpool,  should  land  me  in  heaven." 
The  Rev.  Mr.  M'Kenzie,  who  was  lost  in  the  Pegasus^  on  his 
way  from  Leith  to  London,  was  seen  when  the  vessel  was 
sinking  divested  of  all  fear  for  himself,  calmly  directing  the 
minds  of  his  perishing  fellow-passengers  to  look  by  faith  to 
Jesus,  and  thus  prepare  for  that  eternity  on  which  in  a  few 
moments  they  were  about  to  enter.  See  what  religion  can  do 
for  its  possessors  amidst  the  roar  of  the  tempest,  or  when 
the  ocean  is  opening  its  mouth  to  swallow  him  up.  Could 
yoji  thus  hopefully  and  peacefully  descend  into  a  watery 
grave  .'' 

But  death  sometimes  comes  on  board  an  emigrant  ship 
which  escapes  the  tempest.  To  die  at  sea  is  no  uncommon 
thing.  Death,  like  its  Omnipotent  Lord  and  Conqueror, 
often  walks  the  waves,  and  approaches  the  affrighted  mari- 
ners, and  steps  aboard  the  vessel,  not  however  as  in  the  case 
of  Jesus  on  the  lake  of  Gennesaret,  to  relieve,  but  to  confirm 
the  fears  of  those  who  watch  his  approach.  To  a  good  man 
there  is  nothing  very  terrible  in  this.  True  it  is  that  the 
ocean  is  not  the  house,  nor  a  ship  the  chamber,  in  which  any 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  253 

one  would  choom  to  endure  his  last  sickness  and  meet  the  last 
enemy.  But  a  believing  sense  of  God's  presence  and  lovo 
— a  peaceful  repose  on  the  bosom  of  Christ's  mercy — and 
the  prospect  of  a  glorious  immortality — can  make  a  death- 
bed easy  even  there.  And  the  real  Christian  can  endure 
without  dismay  the  thought  of  sleeping  in  the  bottom  of  the 
ocean,  amidst  the  monsters  of  the  deep,  instead  of  a  sepulchre 
on  dry  land — assured  that  at  the  resurrection  morning,  "  the 
sea  will  give  up  the  dead  which  are  in  it." 

These,  however,  are  not  the  greatest  or  most  imminent 
dangers  to  which  you  will  be  exposed  ;  or  those  of  which  you 
should  be  most  afraid  ;  or  against  which  you  need  to  bo  most 
impressively  and  anxiously  warned  by  your  friends.  Perils 
of  a  moral  kind,  and  fearful  ones  too,  will  beset  your  path. 

What  Ob  mixture  of  society  is  to  be  found  in  every  emigrant 
ship  that  floats  its  living  cargo  to  a  distant  shore.  There 
you  will  probably  find  the  vicious  of  both  sexes — the  infidel, 
the  debauchee,  the  gambler,  the  drunkard — the  men  of  al' 
principles  and  of  no  principle — the  men  of  bankrupt  for- 
tune, and  what  is  worse,  of  bankrupt  character.  And  not 
unlikely  will  "  the  strange  woman"  be  there,  "  whose  lips 
drop  as  a  honey-comb,  and  whose  mouth  is  smoother  than 
oil,  but  whose  end  (to  you  as  well  as  to  herself,  if  you  are 
ensnared  by  her)  is  bitter  as  wormwood,  sharp  as  a  two- 
edged  sword  ;  whose  feet  go  down  to  death,  and  her  steps 
take  hold  on  hell,"  with  those  also  whom  she  inveigles.  In 
the  best  appointed  ships  will  be  found  society,  with  which  if 
you  associate,  it  may  imperil  your  morals  and  ruin  your  cha- 
racter and  your  hopes  for  both  worlds.  An  association  of 
this  kind  being  once  formed,  you  cannot  avoid  its  contami- 
nating influence  for  a  single  day.  You  cannot  get  away 
from  it,  if  you  wou^d.     The  tempter  is  ever  in  sight — evoi 


254  THE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

at  your  elbow  and  your  ear.  There  is  no  wider  range  for 
you  to  move  in  than  the  vessel  which  contains  you  both. 
The  danger  is  thus  greater  than  can  be  described  or 
imagined.  It  will  follow  you  ashore — it  will  aflfect  your  cha- 
racter and  conduct  when  you  land,  and  influence  all  your 
future  destiny.  If  then  you  have  the  least  regard  to  your 
welfare,  be  vigilant,  be  cautious.  Go  to  the  scene  of  danger 
aware  of  it,  and  look  up  to  God  to  preserve  you.  Pray  to 
him  to  spread  over  you  the  shield  of  his  omnipotence. 

Should  you  however  escape  this  danger  on  board  ship,  it 
will  meet  you  on  your  landing.  Our  colonies  are  not  only  a 
field  of  enterprise  for  adventurers  whether  they  be  the  sober 
and  industrious,  seeking  a  legitimate  and  ample  scope  for 
their  energies  and  their  hopes,  or  for  the  reckless  and  despe- 
rate, throwing  the  dice  for  their  last  chance  ;  but  also  the 
retreat  of  the  prodigal  and  the.  profligate,  where  they  may 
hide  their  shame  and  pursue  their  vicious  career,  unknown 
and  unobstructed.  In  addition  to  this,  there  is  in  our  penal 
colonies  the  infection  difiused  by  the  ship-loads  of  moral 
feculence  which  are  landed  from  the  ships  that  convey  thither 
our  convicts.  In  these  situations  a  young  man  viciously 
disposed  will  have  every  opportunity  for  gratifying  his  animal 
appetites,  unrecognised  by  friends,-  and  unrestrained  by 
strangers. 

But  there  are  also  dangers  of  another  type  than  these. 
In  a  country,  the  population  of  which  even  as  regards  its 
better  portions,  are  to  a  certain  extent  a  vast  company  of 
adventurers,  who  are  all  beginning  life  afresh  and  struggling 
hard  amidst  many  difficulties  to  root  themselves  in  the  land 
of  their  adoption,  there  is  likely  to  be  acquired  a  peculiar 
hardness  and  selfishness  of  character^  very  unfriendly  to  the 
tender  afi"cctions  of  the  heart,  the  amenities  of  life,  and  the 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    iTOREIGN    LAND.  253 

spiritual  exercises  of  true  religion.  The  thorns  of  worldl_y 
cares,  and  the  stony  ground  of  earthly-mindedness,  are  but 
too  common  everywhere,  but  especially  there,  and  prevent 
the  growth  of  the  good  seed  of  piety  and  virtue.  Failures 
are  common,  and  sound  principle  is  soon  undermined  ;  and 
ia  the  hard  struggle  and  anxious  effort  for  success,  every 
object  but  those  which  pertain  to  the  present  world,  is  lost 
sight  of.  The  flattering  pictures  of  colonial  life  and  prospe- 
rity, which  the  imagination  of  many  had  drawn,  in  which 
they  dreamed  of  immediate  and  certain  success  without  fear 
and  almost  without  labor,  are  all  found  to  be  illusions  of  the 
fancy,  and  they  are  ready  to  lie  down  in  despair,  or  to  adopt 
any  course,  however  dishonorable  or  even  dishonest,  not 
indeed,  to  gain  a  fortune  which  was  once  their  expectation, 
but  a  bare  living,  which  is  now  their  highest,  yea  only  hope. 
How  unfavorable  is  such  a  situation  to  the  cultivation  of 
piety  or  even  of  virtue. 

What  carries  the  danger  of  all  this  to  the  highest  pitch  is 
the  absence  in  many  parts  of  our  colonies  of  the  means  of 
grace,  the  ordinances  of  public  worship,  the  fellowship  of 
saints,  and  the  oversight  of  ministers.  How  difficult  is  it 
here  even,  in  this  highly  favored  land,  by  the  aid  of  all  these, 
to  keep  down  sin  and  to  maintain  a  due  regard  to  the  claims 
of  religion  and  mortality.  But  how  much  worse  would  things 
be  without  this.  There  can  be  no  question  that  the  obser- 
vance of  the  Sabbath,  the  power  of  the  pulpit,  and  the  re- 
straint of  Christian  example,  tend  greatly  to  moralize  and 
purify  the  life  even  where  they  do  not  renew  the  heart — to 
restrain  the  sinner  where  they  do  not  convert  him,  and  to 
keep  down  the  overflowings  of  ungodliness  where  they  do 
not  spread  out  the  beauties  of  holiness.  It  is  true  that 
through  the  voluntary  energies  of  almost  all  denominations 


256  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

of  professing  Christians,  the  deficiency  of  the  means  of  grace^ 
in  our  principal  colonial  establishments,  is  being  in  some 
considerable  measure  supplied.  But  still  how  many  emi- 
grants are  there  who  go  out  into  the  wild,  who  are  not  witfe 
in  a  days'  journey  of  a  place  of  Christian  worship,  and 
scarcely  bear  a  sermon  in  a  year. 

"  Oh,  think  of  those  who  pine  to  hear, 
Far  from  their  native  shores  exiled, 
A  pastor's  voice  amid  the  wild." 

What  is  there  in  such  circumstances  to  aid  the  struggles  of 
the  soul  after  good  principles  and  habits  here,  or  salvation 
hereafter  ?  And  even  where  the  means  of  grace  are,  within 
reach,  they  are  it  must  be  confessed  too  often  of  that  feeble 
and  ineffici3nt  character,  so  unhappily  a  contrast  with  those 
once  enjoyed  in  the  mother  country,  which  renders  them 
neither  attractive  nor  influential. 

Such  then  are  some  of  the  dangers  to  which  the  emigrant 
is  exposed  :  and  I  now  proceed, 

Fourthly.  To  offer  him  some  counsels  and  direc- 
tions. There  are,  as  regards  religion,  two  distinct  classes 
of  emigrants. 

There  are  some  who  are  not  living  under  the  influence  of 
true  religion.  Some  of  you  who  shall  read  these  pages 
answer  too  justly  to  this  description.  You  know  you  are 
not  yet  brought  to  repentance  towards  God,  and  faith  in  the 
Lord  Jesus  Christ :  that  you  are  not  yet  led  to  acknow- 
ledge God  in  all  your  ways,  to  live  habitually  in  his  fear  and 
favor,  and  to  enjoy  the  comforts  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Going 
out  from  your  own  country  to  a  foreign  land — without  the 
guidance  of  religion  !  Going  to  encounter  the  perils  of  the 
ocean  and  the  dangers  of  shipwreck — without  the  presence 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  25'? 

of  religion  !  Going  to  quit  the  home  of  your  fathers  and 
sojourn  in  a  strange  land — without  the  companionship  of 
religion  !  Going  to  encounter  all  the  trials,  the  perplexities, 
the  difficulties  of  an  emigrant's  life — without  the  consolations 
of  religion  !  How  forlorn  a  condition  !  How  desolate  a  lot ! 
No  acknowledgment  of  Grod — no  trust  in  him — no  prayer  to 
him — no  communion  with  him — no  expectation  from  him  ! 
No  preparation  of  mind  to  see  his  immensity  shadowed  forth 
in  the  boundless  expanse  of  the  ocean — to  hear  his  awful 
power,  grandeur,  and  majesty  proclaimed  in  the  tempest, 
the  thunder-storm,  and  the  water-spout — to  trace  his  wisdom 
and  goodness  in  the  varied  products  of  new  countries — to 
contemplate  his  glory  and  realise  his  presence  every  where  ! 
Unhappy  man  !  You  are  indeed  to  be  pitied.  The  world  is 
all  before  you,  but  no  Providence  to  be  your  guide,  and 
direct  you  where  to  choose.  Oh,  pause  and  ponder  upon 
your  condition,  and  the  ways  of  your  feet.  Will  you,  dare 
you,  can  you  go  out  without  God  ?  Without  God  to  guide 
and  protect  and  bless  you  ?  And  if  without  God  as  a  friend, 
with  him  as  any  enemy  ! 

Do  you  forget  it  is  God's  world  you  live  in,  and  God's 
country  to  which  you  are  going  ?  And  how  can  you  think 
of  going  to  it  without  asking  his  leave,  imploring  his 
guidance,  and  seeking  his  blessing  ?  Recollect  you  are 
dependent  every  moment  upon  him,  and  all  your  future 
destiny  is  to  be  decided  by  him.  He  can  raise  you  to  pros- 
perity or  depress  you  to  the  lowest  adversity.  He  can 
frustrate  or  promote  all  your  schemes  ;  disappoint  or  realise 
all  your  hopes. 

Before  you  quit  your  native  shore  then,  yield  yourselves 
unto  God,  "  Remember  your  Creator^  now^  in  the  days  of 
you?   youth  J  before   thi  evil  days  co?/ie."     You  are  busy  in 


258 

preparing  for  the  voyage,  and  are  engaged  in  the  solicitudes 
of  the  outfit.  Religion,  true,  vital,  experimental,  decided 
religion  is  the  best  preparation,  the  most  important  outfit. 
Determine  by  God's  grace  not  to  leave  your  country  an 
enemy  to  him,  lest  He  send  the  whirlwind  as  his  messenger 
to  arrest  you  on  the  sea,  or  ruin  to  overtake  you  on  the  dry 
land.  Go  forth  rather  as  his  servant,  his  friend,  and  his 
son,  that  to  you  may  be  applied  the  beautiful  language  of 
the  poet, 

"  His  are  the  mountains ;  and  the  valleys  his ; 
His  the  resplendent  rivers ;  his  to  call 
With  a  propriety  that  none  can  claim, 
But  he  who  lifts  an  unpresumptuous  eye, 
And  smiling  says,  "  My  Father  made  them  all.' " 

Let  the  voice  of  friendship  prevail,  and  the  anxiety  of 
ministerial  fidelity  be  successful,  in  persuading  you  imme- 
diately to  be  reconciled  to  God  through  faith  which  is  in 
Christ  Jesus.  Present  in  sincerity  and  earnestness  the 
prayer  of  Moses,  "  If  thy  presence  go  not  with  me  carry  me 
not  up  hence."  You  shall  not  ask  in  vain,  for  the  answer 
shall  come,  "  My  presence  shall  go  with  thee,  and  I  will 
give  thee  rest."  Exodus  xxxiii.  14-15.  You  will  leave  all 
other  fiiends  behind  you,  but  your  best  friend  will  go  with 
you,  and  he  will  be  more  to  you  than  father,  mother, 
brothers  and  sisters.  Should  you  determine  to  act  upon 
this  advice,  then  all  which  will  now  be  addressed  to  the  next 
class  of  emigrants  will  also  appertain  to  you. 

Many  emigrants  are  already  true  Christians,  and  will  go 
out  as  such.  To  this  class  I  now  address  myself  with  affec- 
tionate solicitude  for  your  welfare  in  both  worlds. 

First  of  all  I  would  make  a  few  remarks  in  the  way  of 
CONSOLATION.     In  your  present  circumstances  you  need  it, 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  2L9 

and  you  may  have  it.  I  trust  you  have  the  peace  which 
arises  from  the  testimony  of  your  conscience,  that  in  leaving 
your  country,  you  are  following  the  leadings  of  Providence, 
and  that  you  see  the  cloudy  pillar  moving  before  you :  that 
it  is  a  lawful  object  you  are  pursuing,  and  one  on  which  you 
may  confidently  ask  Grod's  blessing.  This  settled,  you  have 
in  that  one  thought,  "  I  am  where  God  led  me,"  a  world  of 
consolation.  In  the  wreck  of  either  your  vessel  or  your 
fortunes,  you  may  then  be  calm  and  satisfied,  for  no  remorse 
will  increase  your  terrors  or  aggravate  your  sorrows. 

Next  you  may,  and  should,  reflect  with  comfort  upon  the 
omnipresence  of  God.  This  is  one  of  the  main  props  of  all 
religion,  whether  in  the  way  of  holy  fear  or  sacred  pleasure 
— whether  with  angels  in  heaven,  or  with  man  upon  earth. 
It  was  the  saying  of  a  Jewish  Kabbi,  "  If  every  man  would 
consider  God  to  be  the  great  eye  of  the  world,  watching 
perpetually  over  all  our  actions,  and  that  his  hand  is  inde- 
fatigable, and  his  ear  ever  open,  possibly  sin  might  be 
extirpated  from  the  face  of  the  earth."  This  is  going  too 
far,  but  it  is  impressive.  Yes,  God  is  everywhere  present, 
though  invisible  to  us.  Were  the  emigrant  to  leave  his  God, 
when  he  left  his  country,  what  crowds  of  sinners  would  flee 
from  the  presence  of  the  Lord,  and  escape  from  the  vigilance 
of  his  watchful  eye — but  what  Christian  would  go  1  Pious 
youth,  God  goes  with  you — wherever  you  go,  he  is  there 
before  you  in  all  the  glory  of  his  attributes,  in  all  the  tender- 
ness of  his  love,  in  all  the  faithfulness  of  his  promises,  and 
in  all  the  watchfulness  of  his  providence.  Be  this  your 
comfort,  you  cannot  flee  from  his  presence.  And  as  God 
goes  with  you,  so  does  your  gracious  Kedeemer,  in  all  his 
offices,  characters,  and  endearments.  So  does  the  Holy 
Spirit,  with  all  his  influences — so  does  your  Bible — so  does 


260  THE    YOUNG    MAn's  FRIEND. 

the  throne  of  grace — so  does  the  fellowship  of  saints,  at  least 
to  most  places.  You  thus  carry  your  best  friends,  your 
richest  treasures,  your  dearest  comforts,  your  safest  protec- 
tion with  you.  Without  these  no  sun  would  be  lyi'ight  ;  no 
scenery  beautiful ;  no  air  balmy  ;  no  society  agreeable  ;  and 
no  success  joyful :  but  with  these,  consolation  might  bo 
found  on  the  most  desolate  shores,  and  in  the  most  dreary 
scenes  of  nature  or  of  Providence,  All  places  are  equally 
near  to  heaven,  and  all  equally  accessible  to  the  falling  rays 
of  its  glory  now.  On  board  the  ship  ;  amidst  a  wicked 
crew  and  noisy  passengers,  he  can  be  with  you  ;  and  equally 
so  in  the  rising  population  of  some  colonial  town,  or  in  the 
dreary  wild  of  some  colonial  desert.  In  the  deepest  solitude 
you  may  use  the  language  which  the  poet  has  put  into  the 
lips  of  Alexander  Selkirk,  when  dwelling  alone  on  the  island 
of  Juan  Fernandez. 

"  There's  mercy  in  every  place, 

And  mercy,  encouraging  thought, 
Gives  even  affliction  a  grace, 

And  reconciles  man  to  his  lot. 
The  sea-fowl  is  gone  to  her  nest, 

The  beast  is  laid  down  in  his  lair, 
Ev'n  here  is  a  season  of  rest, 

And  I  to  my  cabin  repair." 

You  remember  perhaps  the  anecdote  of  Mungo  Park,  the 
African  Traveller,  which  I  have  given  in  my  work  entitled, 
"  The  Young  Man  from  Home."  He  was  in  the  heart 
of  Africa,  alone  and  unprotected.  He  had  just  been  robbed 
and  stripped  by  a  ferocious  banditti,  and  the  following  is  the 
account  he  gives  of  his  feelings,  and  his  relief:  "  After  they 
were  gone,  I  sat  for  some  time,  looking  around  me  with 
amazement  and  terror.     Whichever  way  I  turned,  nothing 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  261 

appeared  but  danger  and  difficulty.  I  saw  myself  in  the 
midst  of  a  vast  wilderness,  in  the  depth  of  the  rainy  season, 
naked  and  alone,  surrounded  by  savage  animals,  and  men 
still  more  savage.  I  was  five  hundred  miles  from  the  near- 
est European  settlement.  All  these  circumstances  crowded 
at  once  on  my  recollection,  and  I  confess  that  my  spirit 
began  to  fail  me.  I  considered  my  fate  as  certain,  and  that 
I  had  no  alternative  but  to  lie  down  and  perish.  The 
INFLUENCE  OF  RELIGION,  howtvtr ^  aided  and  supported  me. 
I  reflected  that  no  human  prudence  or  foresight  could 
possibly  have  averted  my  present  sufferings.  I  was  indeed 
a  stranger  in  a  strange  land,  yet  I  was  still  under  the  pro- 
tecting eye  of  that  providence  who  has  condescended  to 
call  himself  the  stranger's  friend.  At  this  moment,  painful 
as  my  reflections  were,  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  a  small 
moss,  in  fructification,  irresistibly  caught  my  eye.  I  mention 
this  to  show  from  what  trifling  circumstances  the  mind  will 
sometimes  derive  consolation  ;  for  though  the  whole  plant 
was  not  longer  than  the  top  of  one  of  my  fingers,  I  could  not 
contemplate  the  delicate  conformation  of  its  roots,  leaves, 
and  capsule,  without  admiration.  Can  that  Being,  thought 
I,  who  planted,  watered,  and  brought  to  perfection,  in  this 
obscure  part  of  the  world,  a  thing  which  appears  of  so  small 
importance,  look  with  unconcern  upon  the  situation  and 
suffering  of  creatures  formed  after  his  own  image  ? — surely 
not !  Reflections  like  these  would  not  allow  me  to  despair. 
I  started  up,  and  disregarding  both  hunger  and  fatigue, 
travelled  forwards,  assured  that  relief  was  at  hand  :  and  I 
was  not  disappointed.  In  a  short  time,  I  came  to  a  small 
village,  at  the  entrance  of  which  I  overtook  the  two  shep- 
herds who  had  come  with  me  from  Koama.  They  were 
much  surprised  to  see  me  j  for  they  said,  they  never  doubted 


262  THE  YOUNG  MAN's  FRIEND. 

that   the    Foulahs,   when  they  had   robbed,  had  murdered 
me." 

But  let  me  now  offer  you  some  counsels.  Taken  away 
from  the  means  of  grace,  to  which  you  have  been  accustomed, 
you  will  be  in  danger  of  resembling  a  child  weaned  at  too 
early  an  age,  and  which  droops  and  sickens  for  want  of  its 
mother's  milk.  On  your  voyage  you  will  find  nothing  around 
you  to  sustain  your  faith  and  godliness,  but  every  thing 
adverse.  For  months  your  Sabbath  exercises  will  perhaps 
be  nothing  more  than  listening  to  a  few  prayers,  or  a  sermon 
formally,  coldly,  and  carelessly  read.  You  will  perhaps  meet 
with  no  one  who  can  talk  with  you  the  language  of  Canaan, 
and  fan  by  his  conversation  and  prayers  the  languid  flame  of 
your  devotion.  You  will  therefore  be  in  imminent  peril  of 
losing  much  of  your  religion  on  the  voyage.  To  guard 
against  this,  it  is  well  you  should  take  a  calm  and  intelligent 
view  of  your  situation.  In  this  case,  as  well  as  in  others, 
to  be  fore-warned  is  to  be  fore-armed.  Be  much  in  prayer, 
in  earnest,  wrestling,  and  believing  prayer,  before  you  step 
on  board.  Intensely  long  to  be  kept,  and  then  you  will  be 
kept.  God  can  and  will  make  his  grace  sufficient  for  you 
H6  can  preserve  you,  and  will  if  you  desire  it,  though  there 
is  not  another  Christian  in  the  ship.  He  will  be  the  lifter 
up  of  your  head,  will  sustain  you  by  his  power  through 
faith,  and  will  put  his  glory  upon  you. 

Do  not  he  ashamed  of  your  religion.  Much  of  future 
annoyance  and  embarrassment  will  be  prevented  by  a  bold 
and  honest,  yet  meek  and  humble  avowal  of  your  principles. 
The  j^rs^  check  given  to  a  new  phase  or  aspect  of  life  is  that 
which  is  most  to  be  dreaded.  Decision,  maintained  with 
firmness  but  gentleness,  will  soon  subdue  opposition.  Your 
persecutors,  if  such  you  should  have,  will  not  be  slow  to 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  263 

find  out  that  it  is  a  bootless  expenditure  of  their  ridicule  on 
one  who  is  not  affected  by  it,  and  who  always  returns  good 
for  evil.  But  for  this  moral  and  spiritual  courage,  you  must 
be  much  in  prayer.  "  Of  the  ichneumon  it  is  stated  that 
when  wounded  by  the  serpent  with  which  it  is  in  conflict,  or 
previously  to  renewing  the  conflict,  it  retires  by  instinct  to 
a  particular  herb,  for  expelling  whatever  venom  it  has  re- 
ceived, and  to  be  invigorated  with  fresh  strength  for  obtain- 
ing the  victory.  Sanctify  the  thought  by  your  frequent  re- 
tirement to  God  for  aid  iu  the  war- strife  in  which  you  may 
be  engaged  with  sin  in  its  various  forms  around  you,  and  its 
most  subtle  insinuations  in  your  own  breast."*"  Fear  not 
then  to  be  seen  with  your  Bible  and  other  good  books.  Let 
your  piety  be  neither  ostentatiously  obtrudeH,  nor  timidly 
concealed.  At  first  it  would  be  well  to  say  little  about  it  to 
others,  till  you  have  gained  their  confidence  and  affection. 
Let  there  be  no  bustling  and  officious  zeal — no  attempt  to 
take  the  ship's  company  by  storm — nothing  like  parading 
your  religion  and  proclaiming  your  intention  to  convert  all  oa 
board.  This  will  defeat  your  purpose  by  raising  up  resist- 
ance. Your  light  must  shine  before  your  fellow-passengers, 
by  your  good  works,  and  your  religion  must  be  seen  in  all  its 
loveliness  and  consistency  before  it  is  heard.  Be  known  as 
the  humble,  meek,  and  gentle  follower  of  the  Lamb,  the 
friend  of  every  one,  the  enemy  of  none.  If  you  can  find 
men  of  like  mind  on  board,  cultivate  their  acquaintance,  and 
live  in  sweet  fellowship  with  them.  If  they  have  their  pe- 
culiarities, as  probably  they  will  have,  bear  with  them  in 
love.     Let  there  be  the  best  understanding  between  you  and 

*  "  The  Christian  Emigrant,"  by  Dr.  Leifchild.     A  little  volume 
of  which  I  earnestly  advise  every  emigrant  to  possess  himself.     It  is 
a  beautiful  combination  of  general  knowledge  and  piety. 
12 


204  THE    YOUiNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

them  ;  for  the  quarrels,  or  even  the  coolness,  of  professing 
Christians  will  do  immense  harm. 

Take  especial  care  that  your  conduct  be  uniformly  consis- 
tent. When  it  is  known,  and  known  it  ought  to  be,  that 
your  are  a  religious  man,  you  will  be  watched  by  the  malig- 
nant eyes  of  those  who  wait  for  your  halting  ;  and  whose 
ingenuity  will  be  taxed  to  lay  snares  for  your  feet.  One 
step  will  destroy  all  your  influence,  by  defacing  the  .beauty 
and  impairing  the  strength  of  your  example,  and  will  subject 
not  only  yourself,  but  all  religion,  to  the  suspicion  of  hy- 
pocrisy. 

Acting  in  this  blameless  and  harmless  manner,  you  may 
hope  to  be  the  means  of  doing  good  to  some  of  your  fellow- 
emigrants.  You  may  discover  some  pensive  and  sorrow- 
stricken  heart,  prepared  by  deep  sorrow  to  receive  the  conso- 
lations of  the  gospel.  Or  you  may  find  some  prodigal  already 
beginning  to  ponder  with  remorse  on  his  wanderings,  in 
whose  relenting  heart  you  may  fasten  conviction,  penitence, 
and  faith.  You  may  be  honored  of  God  thus  to  "  convert 
a  sinner  from  the  error  of  his  ways — to  save  a  soul  from 
death — and  hide  a  multitude  of  sins." 

Should  you  escape  the  moral  dangers  of  the  voyage,  and 
land  upon  the  distant  shore  unharmed  in  soul,  you  must  not 
consider  that  all,  or  even  the  greatest,  perils  are  over.  There 
still  remain  all  the  trials  to  which  you  will  be  exposed  in 
the  struggle  to  be  carried  on  for  establishing  yourself  in  the 
colony.  Many  have  escaped  the  shipwreck  of  the  sea,  only 
to  incur  the  more  fearful  one  not  only  of  their  fortune,  but 
of  their  character.  Professors  who  have  stood  well  at  home, 
have  miserably  failed  abroad.  In  the  eager  strife  which  you 
will,  perhaps,  carry  on  for  success  in  your  new  locality, 
where  so  many  are  striving  with  you  and  like  you,  there  is  a 


•EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  205 

fear  lest  the  ardor  of  religious  affection  should  be  quenched 
in  a  flood  of  earthly-mindedness ;  and  lest  the  sternness  of 
religious  principle  should  be  subdued  by  the  love,  and  the 
prospect  of  Mammon's  pelf.  It  has  been  said,  with  what 
truth  I  will  not  take  upon  me  to  determine,  that  the  princi- 
ples of  a  very  lax  morality  enter  deeply  into  the  trade  of 
some  of  our  colonies ;  and  that  many  professing  Christiana 
are  carried  away  by  the  stream  of  commercial  dishonor. 
Doubtless  many  have  therefore  damaged  their  characters, 
however  they  may  have  improved  their  circumstances.  "  The 
transplanted  tree  may  exhibit  as  flourishing  a  foliage  in  the 
new  soil  where  it  is  fixed ;  but  if  its  fruit  become  dwarfed, 
insipid,  and  tasteless,  the  change  is  one  that  will  ever  have  to 
be  deplored.  Let  your  piety,  on  the  contrary,  take  a  deeper 
root,  and  strike  out  wider  its  fruit-bearing  branches  in  the 
locality  where  you  may  be  destined  to  spend  the  remainder 
of  your  days." 

A  Christian  ought  to  be  anxious  to  promote  the  moral 
and  spiritual  well-being  of  the  colony  to  which  he  emigrates. 
The  best  way  to  preserve  his  own  religion  is  to  keep  it  in 
action.  Still  water,  as  we  have  already  remarked  in  a  for 
mer  sermon,  breeds  filth  and  vermin,  but  the  running  stream 
is  clear  and  pure.  Neither  our  soul's  health,  nor  our  body's, 
can  be  preserved  without  exercise.  But  there  is  another 
reason,  my  young  friends,  which  I  press  upon  your  attention, 
as  an  additional  reason  why  you  should  be  active  in  diffusing 
religion  where  you  go,  and  that  is  the  future  destiny  of  the 
colonies.  What  is  a  colony  ?  Now,  indeed,  the  collection 
from  various  parts  of  the  earth  of  a  comparatively  few  adven- 
turers settling  down  upon  the  coast  with  a  view  to  retrieve 
their  fortunes  or  their  characters,  or  to  start  in  life  with 
advantages  there  which  they  could  not  command  at  home  j 


260         THE  YOUNG  man's  friend. 

but  what  will  it  be  a  century  or  two  hence  ?  It  is  now  an 
infant  kingdom — an  empire  in  boyhood — of  which  the  full- 
grown  man  may  be  a  rival  of  the  land  that  gave  it  existence. 
A  little  more  than  two  centuries  ago,  a  few  outcasts  and 
fugitives  from  this  country,  who  had  fled  from  the  demon  of 
persecution,  landed  from  the  "  May-flower,"  on  a  bare  and 
barren  rock  on  the  northern  coast  of  America.  The  coun- 
try all  around  was  bleak,  desolate,  and  wild,  and  inhabited 
only  by  tribes  of  Indians.  There  was  a  colony.  What  is  it 
now  ?  The  greatest,  the  strongest,  the  most  flourishing 
republic  ever  founded  upon  earth — a  republic  which  is 
already  a  rival  in  trade  of  the  Father-land,  and  which  has 
more  than  once  been  engaged  with  it  in  successful  war.  It 
is  thought  by  some  that  this  land  has  passed  the  zenith  of 
its  glory,  and  that  a  long  decay  is  destined  to  precede  the 
fall  of  the  British  Empire  ;  that  its  population  will  then 
remain  stationary  or  recede — its  courage  abate — its  wealth 
diminish — and  its  ascendancy  disappear  ;  till  at  length  the 
Queen  of  the  waves  will  sink  into  an  eternal,  though  not 
forgotten  slumber.  And  the  question  has  been  asked, 
whether  at  some  future  period  in  our  world's  history  and 
amidst  the  changes  which  take  place  in  its  affairs,  some 
traveller  from  New  Zealand  or  Australia  may  not  sit  down 
upon  a  broken  arch  of  London  bridge  to  depict  the  ruins  of 
Sf,  Paul's  Cathedral  ;  or  place  himself  where  he  shall  deline- 
ate "  the  towers  oPYork  Minster,  rising  in  dark  magnificence 
amid  an  aged  forest ;  or  go  and  trace  the  red  deer  sporting 
in  savage  independence  round  the  Athenian  pillars  of  the 
Scottish  metropolis."  All  this  is  not  very  probable,  but  if  it 
should  be  in  the  decrees  of  heaven  and  the  destinies  of  earth, 
let  it  be  your  care  who  go  as  Christian  emigrants  to  these 
future  kingdoms  which  are  to  be  exalted  in  majesty  over  the 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOREIGN    LAND.  2G7 

ruins  of  their  parent  country,  that  thej  shall  be  so  educated 
in  their  infancy  as  to  rise  up  Christian  empires  in  their  man- 
hood. Go  out  with  the  holy  and  noble  ambition  of  carrying 
on  the  work  of  evangelization,  civilization,  and  refinement. 
Be  the  patriots  of  your  new  country  :  and  have  your  names 
enrolled  among  those  to  whom  future  generations  shall  look 
back  with  gratitude  and  respect.  Carry  out  the  principles 
of  civil  and  religious  liberty,  and  never  forget  that  as  you 
are  joining  with  others  in  laying  the  foundations  of  empire, 
it  should  be  done  with  care  and  skill,  so  as  they  shall  bear  a 
superstructure  in  which  God  shall  dwell  with  man  upon  the 
earth.  It  is  a  high  and  holy  object  of  ambition  which  is 
thus  presented  to  you.  Seize  the  conception  in  all  its  gran- 
deur and  extent,  and  let  not  even  the  modesty  and  humility 
which  are  the  natural  result,  and  should  be  the  accompani- 
ments of  your  comparatively  humble  circumstances  in  life, 
dispossess  you  of  it — that  you  are  assisting  in  constructing 
the  basis  of  future  nations.  Even  the  day-laborers  who 
worked  at  the  foundations  of  the  Pyramids  had  a  share  in 
raising  a  fabric  which  has  been  the  admiration  of  all  ages, 
and  will  probably  last  till  the  end  of  time.  So  the  humblest 
emigrant  that  lands  on  the  shore  of  Australia,  if  he  be  a  man 
of  piety,  virtue,  and  active  benevolence,  is  doing  something 
towards  the  wealth,  the  power,  and  the  moral  glory  of  the 
future  kingdom  that  may  rise  on  that  now  comparatively 
unpeopled  wilderness. 

In  connection  with  all  this,  and  indeed  for  it5  realization, 
it  is  necessary  you  should  attend  to  some  other  things.  I 
refer  you  to  the  last  sermon  for  what  you  will  need  as  a  man 
of  business,  and  what  is  essential  to  your  success.  The 
knowledge,  industry,  economy,  system,  r.cd  perseverance, 
there  recommended,  necessary  for  all,  are  pre-eminently  for 


2G8  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

you.  Without  determining  to  act  thus,  there  is  not  the 
remotest  hope  of  your  success.  If  you  expect  to  do  without 
these  in  a  foreign  land,  you  are  mistaken.  Give  up  at  once 
all  notion  that  less  qualification  for  success  is  necessary  in 
the  colonies  than  at  home.  The  earth  does  not  bring  forth 
her  fruits  spontaneously,  there  even  in  a  virgin  soil,  any  more 
than  here.  The  ground  is  cursed  for  man's  sake  all  over  the 
globe  :  and  to  earn  your  bread  by  the  sweat  of  your  brow  is 
the  condition  of  your  existence  in  Australia  and  New  Zea- 
land, as  well  as  in  England. 

You  must  make  up  your  mind  to  hardships^  unknown 
at  home.  He  that  expects  to  carry  to  a  new  settlement,  at 
least  in  some  parts  of  the  world,  all  the  luxuries  or  even 
comforts  he  may  command  here,  and  who  is  not  prepared  to 
endure  much  self-denial,  had  better  remain  where  he  is.  It 
is  true  in  the  towns  already  formed  in  some  of  the  colonies, 
most  of  the  usual  comforts  of  life  may  be  commanded,  as  well 
as  in  this  country  ;  but  an  emigrant  cannot  always  choose 
his  abode,  and  may  be  called  to  go  beyond  the  circle  of  a 
living  population  to  construct  his  own  dwelling,  to  make  his 
own  furniture,  to  cook  his  own  meal ;  and  you  are  to  con- 
sider well  whether  this  will  suit  you,  or  you  it.  A  spirit  of 
adventure,  where  this  exists,  a  buoyancy  of  spirits,  a  love  of 
enterprise  and  a  hope  of  success,  will  carry  a  man  through 
all  these  difficulties — but  have  you  these  qualifications  .? 

Guard  against  a  reckless  spirit  of  speculation.  Do  not 
make  haste  to  be  rich.  This  is  one  of  the  dangers  of  colo- 
nial life — dangerous  alike  to  moral  principle  and  to  com- 
mercial prosperity.  There  is  great  room  for  it  abroad,  and 
many  temptations  to  it.  It  has  made  a  few,  but  it  has 
ruined  many.  Some  have  endeavored  to  leap  the  chasm 
or  ford  the  river,  without  patiently  going  round   by  the 


i 


EMIGKATIXG    TO    A    FORETOX    LAND.  269 

bridge,  and  have  succeeded  ;  while  others  in  making  the 
Bame  attempt  have  been  dashed  to  pieces  or  drowned.  Spe- 
culation is  a  game  at  hazard.  Do  not  play  it.  One  throw 
of  the  die  may  win  a  fortune,  but  the  next  may  lose  it.  Bo 
contented  to  plod  on  slowly,  but  certainly.  What  is  gained 
by  patient  industry  usually  wears  better  and  lasts  longer 
than  that  which  "is  won  in  a  lottery. 

Especially  watch  against  a  loant  of  commercial  'principle. 
In  the  fierce  conflict  for  success  in  a  young  settlement,  this  is 
one  of  the  dangers  to  which  all  who  enter  into  it  are  exposed. 
Go  out  determined  to  follow  the  whatsoever  things  are  true, 
honest,  just,  pure,  lovely,  and  of  good  report.  Make  up  your 
mind  to  the  truth  of  God's  holy  Word,  that,  "  Better  is  the 
little  that  a  righteous  man  hath,  than  the  riches  of  many 
wicked."  Failure  is  to  be  infinitely  preferred,  when  it  comes 
with  a  good  conscience,  than  success  procured  by  iniquity. 
As  a  general  principle  it  will  be  found  true  that  honesty  is 

THE   BEST    POLICY.  -" 

Keep  lop  a  correspondence  with  your  native  country^  espe- 
cially if  you  have  left  friends  in  it  who  take  an  interest  in 
your  welfare.  There  is  something  immoral  and  unchristian 
in  its  tendency,  is  a  disposition  to  forget  the  home  and  the 
friends  of  your  childhood,  besides  something  positively  cruel 
in  keeping  parents,  or  brothers  and  sisters,  ignorant  of  your 
circumstances.  This  is  sometimes  not  sufficiently  thought  of 
by  those  who  leave  their  country.  The  soil  in  which  early 
and  home  affections  all  wither  and  die,  cannot  be  favorable 
to  the  growth  of  piety ;  it  is  cold  and  stony. 

Be  very  cautious  about  choosing  your  companions.  Cha- 
racters of  all  varieties,  and  many  of  them  of  the  worst 
kind,  are  to  be  found  in  the  colonies.  How  many  are  ohligea 
to  emigrate  and  find  a  shelter  in  those  distant  retreats  from 


270  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

the  finger  of  scorn,  the  tongue  of  reproach,  and  in  some 
cases,  the  visitations  of  justice — men  who  go  out  unreclaimed, 
and  who  carry  all  their  bad  principles  and  evil  dispositions 
with  them.  Many  of  these  are  clever,  specious,  and  plau- 
sible— but  they  carry  the  serpent's  cunning  and  venom  undei 
the  variegated  colors  of  his  skin.  Never  give  your  company, 
or  your  ear,  or  your  hand,  or  your  confidence,  to  any  one,  till 
you  have  proved  he  is  worthy  of  them.  A  stranger  in  a 
strange  land,  you  will  feel  your  loneliness,  and  in  your  craving 
after  social  intercourse  will  be  in  danger  of  falling  into  the 
snares  of  those  who  lie  in  wait  to  deceive.  One  of  the 
members  of  my  church  who  carried  out  with  him  a  consider- 
able sum  of  money,  gave  his  confidence,  and  with  it  a  con- 
siderable portion  of  his  property,  to  one  who  professed  for 
him  great  friendship  ;  and  but  for  a  most  determined  process 
would  have  lost  it.  Men  prowling  about  society  to  pre;y 
upon  the  unwary  are  to  be  found  everywhere,  and  they  are 
not  wanting  in  the  colonies. 

And  now  in  conclusion,  let  me  direct  your  attention  U 
what  the  apostle  has  said  of  the  holy  patriarchs  of  Canaan, 
"  These  all  died  in  faith,  not  having  received  the  promises, 
but  having  seen  them  afar  off,  and  were  persuaded  of  them 
and  embraced  them,  and  confessed  that  they  were  strangers 
and  pilgrims  on  the  earth.  For  they  that  say  such  things 
declare  plainly  that  they  seek  a  country.  And  truly,  if  they 
had  been  mindful  of  that  country  from  whence  they  came 
out,  they  might  have  had  opportunity  to  have  returned.  But 
now  they  desire  a  better  country,  that  is,  an  heavenly  :  where- 
fore God  is  not  ashamed  to  be  called  their  God ;  for  he  hath 
prepared  for  them  a  city."  Hebrews  xi.  13-16.  Be  this  the 
view  you  take  of  your  earthly  sojourn — as  a  pilgrimage  to 
the  skies  ;  and  this  the  spirit  you  cherish  in  reference  to  it. 


EMIGRATING    TO    A    FOKEIGN    LAND.  271 

Your  circumstances  forcibly  remind  you  of  it.  By  faith  in 
God's  blessed  Word  look  up  to  that  better  country  which  is 
above  and  beyond  the  boundaries  of  earth  and  time  :  the 
land  of  the  holy,  the  good,  and  the  blessed — where  there  is 
no  more  sin — and  there  shall  be  no  more  death,  nor  sorrow, 
nor  crying,  neither  shall  there  be  any  more  pain,  for  the  for- 
mer things  are  passed  away — where  the  fears,  the  anxieties, 
and  the  labors  of  this  world  have  no  place,  and  the  turmoil 
of  life,  and  the  strifes  of  business  are  unknown — where  the 
wicked  cease  from  troubling,  and  the  weary  are  at  rest — 
where  temptation  will  be  over,  and  conflict  will  cease.  Bless- 
ed country  !  Be  it  your  chief  solicitude  to  emigrate  to  that 
joyful  and  glorious  laud.  From  this  world  you  must  depart. 
No  choice  is  left  you  here.  And  the  hour  of  departure  draws 
on  ;  but  whether  it  will  be  in  youth,  in  manhood,  or  old  age, 
is  known  only  to  God.  Shall  there  be  no  preparation  for 
that  voyage  and  settlement }  How  much  are  your  thoughts 
now  occupied  about  the  new  country  to  which  you  are  going, 
and  how  anxiously  busy  are  you  in  preparing  for  the  voyage 
and  your  future  residence — What  ?  and  less  thoughtfulness 
— less  preparation — less  anxiety  be  given  to  the  emigration 
to  eternity  ?  You  have  exercised  much  thought  in  choosing 
the  colony  where  you  mean  to  settle  for  life.  There  are 
but  two  places  of  settlement  beyond  the  grave — heaven  and 
hell — between  these  lies  your  choice — to  one  or  other  you 
must  soon  depart — which  will  you  choose  ?     Which  ? 


12^ 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  DISAPPOINTING  OR  REALISING 
THE  HOPES  OF  HIS  PARENTS. 


"  And  Lamech  lived  an  hundred  eighty  and  two  years,  and  begat  a 
son :  And  he  called  his  name  Noah,  saying,  This  same  shall  comfort 
us  concerning  our  work  and  toil  of  our  hands."     Genesis,  v.  28-9. 

"And  the  king  was  much  moved,  and  went  up  to  the  chamber 
over  the  gate  and  wept :  and  as  he  went,  thus  he  said,  O  my  son 
Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  Absalom !  would  God  I  had  died  for  thee, 
O  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son !"     2  Samuel  xviii.  33. 

When  Lamech,  one  of  the  few  antediluvians  mentioned  in 
this  chapter,  selected  a  name  for  his  son,  he  determined  to 
call  him  Noah,  which  signifies  "  rest ;"  for  he  said,  this  same 
shall  comfort  us  concerning  our  labor.  The  history  of 
Lamech  is  involved  in  deep  and  impenetrable  obscurity, 
which  no  criticism  or  conjecture  can  remove  or  illumine. 
You  are  not  to  confound  the  Lamech  here  spoken  of  with 
the  one  mentioned  in  the  preceding  chapter.  That  was  a 
descendant  of  Cain  ;  this  of  Seth.  Still  one  should  suppose 
that  in  the  selection  of  the  name  of  his  son,  he  was  guided 
by  a  reference  to  some  circumstances  of  disquiet  and  dis- 
comfort connected  with  his  own  life,  of  which  no  mention  is 
made  in  the  sacred  Scriptures.  Whether  this  selection  of 
the  name  o  f  his  son  was  the  result  of  a  prophetic  inspiration. 


I 


DTSArPOIXTIXG     Oil    REALISING    THE    IIOrES    OF    PARENTS.    273 

or  merely  of  parental  solicitude  and  hope,  we  cannot  tell 
The  event,  however,  justified  the  selection.  The  life  of 
Noah  answered  to  his  name.  "With  his  early  history  the 
Author  of  revelation  has  left  us  almost  entirely  unacquainted. 
All  that  is  said  of  him  before  he  is  introduced  to  us  as  the 
preserver  of  the  seed  of  a  new  world's  population,  is,  that 
"  Noah  walked  with  God,  and  was  perfect  in  his  generation." 
In  the  midst  of  a  corrupted  age  he  dared  to  be  singular,  and 
was  not  ashamed  or  afraid  to  avow  his  piety  amidst  the  scoffs 
of  the  impious.  For  five  centuries  his  parents  lived  to 
witness  his  holy  conduct,  and  his  high  calling  to  be  the 
preacher  of  righteousness,  and  the  preserver  of  the  human 
race  from  utter  destruction.  What  a  lengthened  period  of 
parental  enjoyment.* 

A  melancholy  contrast  is  presented  to  all  this,  in  the  his- 
tory of  Absalom.  His  name  signifies,  "  the  father's  peace." 
Alas,  alas,  what  a  contradiction  was  there  between  his  his- 
tory and  his  name.  He  was  evidently  his  father's  favorite 
son.     We   discern    and    condemn    the  weakness  of  David, 

*  We  are  not  permitted  to  know  all  the  divine  reasons  for  the 
extreme  longevity  of  the  Patriarchs  of  the  Antediluvian  world.  It 
was  not  merely  for  peopling  the  earth  more  rapidly,  but  also  for  pre- 
serving uncorrupted,  by  oral  tradition,  the  original  revelation  made  to 
our  first  parents  in  Paradise.  At  that  time  in  all  probability,  alpha- 
betic writing  was  unknown ;  and  it  was  therefore  important  that  the 
transmission  of  ihe  account  of  creation ;  the  origin  of  the  human  race  ; 
the  first  prophecy  concerning  the  seed  of  woman ;  and  the  divine  insti- 
tution of  sacrifices,  should  pass  through  as  few  hands  as  possible. 
There  may  have  been  other  reasons  for  this  extraordinary  length  of 
human  life  before  the  flood,  with  which  we  are  not  acquainted.  This 
is  one  of  the  many  things  of  revelation,  which  we  must  take  upon  its 
own  well-accredited  testimony,  without  making  our  own  experience 
or  observation  the  standard  by  which  to  +ry  them,  or  a  reason  for 
rejecting  them. 


2*74  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

whose  partiality  was  in  all  probability  called  forth  by  an 
unworthy  motive,  the  extraordinary  beauty  of  Absalom. 
He  gave  him  a  name  expressive  of  his  fondest  wishes  and 
affections.  He  watched,  with  more  than  ordinary  interest 
and  regard,  the  development  of  his  beautiful  form — the 
increasing  attractions  of  his  winning  and  fascinating  manners 
— the  nobleness  of  his  bearing — and  the  displays  of  his 
genius.  Even  Solomon  was  at  that  time  little  thought  of 
compared  with  Absalom.  In  this  favorite  David's  hopes  at 
one  time  centred  more  than  in  all  his  other  children.  But 
this  bright  blossom  of  parental  hope  soon  discovered  signs  of 
mildew  and  of  blight,  and  the  sequel  exhibits  another 
instance  and  proof  of  the  effects  of  injudicious  and  mis- 
directed partiality.  With  Absalom's  personal  beauty,  which 
perhaps  had  made  him  proud,  vain,  and  profligate,  was 
associated  a  most  vicious  character,  that  wrung  the  father's 
heart  with  anguish.  He  manifested  one  enormity  after 
another,  till  his  misconduct  rose  to  its  climax  in  crime,  by 
rebellion  and  intentional  parricide,  and  led  its  guilty  subject 
to  an  untimely  end.  What  a  bitter  and  cruel  disappoint- 
ment of  parental  hopes  was  here  !  The  darling,  the  beau- 
tiful Absalom  proved  a  libertine — a  murderer — a  rebel : 
which,  notwithstanding  all  his  father's  lingering  affection 
and  fond  precaution,  brought  him  down  to  the  grave  in 
infamy  and  blood.  Instead  of  his  remains  reposing  in  that 
splendid  mausoleum  which  his  vanity  had  constructed,  and 
by  which  he  ambitiously  hoped  to  send  forward  his  renown 
through  future  generations,  they  were  buried  under  a  heap 
of  stones,  with  no  funeral  obsequies  to  do  honor  to  his  name 
and  rank,  and  no  inscription  to  perpetuate  his  memory. 
How  much  does  it  take  to  wear  out  a  father's  love  and  to 
quench  his  partiality  for  a  favorite  child  !   No  sooner  were  the 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    BARENTS.    2*75 

tidings  announced  that  Absalom  was  dead,  than  all  his  crimes 
were  forgotten,  and  the  poor  afflicted  father  rushed  into  his 
chamber,  and  in  one  of  the  most  simple  and  pathetic  lamenta- 
tions which  grief  ever  dictated,  or  language  ever  expressed, 
he  uttered  these  moving  words,  "  0  my  son  Absalom,  my 
son,  my  son  Absalom  !  would  Grod  I  had  died  for  thee,  O 
Absalom,  my  son,  my  son!"  With  these  two  cases,  as  an 
historical  introduction,  I  enter  upon  the  consideration  of  my 
subject :  "  The  Young  Man  disappointing  or  realising  ike 
hopes  of  his  Parents. 

I  shall  reverse  the  order  of  the  texts,  and  dwell  first 
upon  the  conduct  of  him  who  defeats  the  expectations  which 
have  been  indulged  by  those  who  were  the  instruments  of 
his  being. 

Parental  hopes  are  usually  strong.  The  words  of  our 
Lord  are  according  to  nature,  "  A  woman  when  she  is  in  tra- 
vail hath  sorrow,  because  her  hour  is  come  ;  but  as  soon  as 
she  is  delivered  of  the  child,  she  remembereth  no  more  her 
anguish,  for  joy  that  a  man  is  born  into  the  world."  Who 
but  a  mother  can  tell  the  feelings  of  that  moment  when  her 
new-born  babe  is  first  laid  in  her  bosom  ;  and  who  but  a 
father  can  know  the  emotions  which  are  excited  when  he  sees 
for  the  first  time  his  own  image  reflected  from  the  counte- 
nance of  that  little  unconscious  creature,  whose  infant  cry 
as  he  takes  him  in  his  arms,  seems  to  say  in  inarticulate 
language, "  My  Father !"  From  that  moment  parental  hopes 
begin.  The  child  brings  them  with  him  into  the  world. 
How  fondly  the  parents  watch  their  treasure  as  he  is  dandled 
in  a  mother's  lap,  or  sleeps  in  the  cradle.  How  oft  they 
muse  together  over  his  future  destinies,  saying  to  each  other, 
''  What  manner  of  child  shall  this  he  ?"  As  the  babe 
grows  to  a  child — the  child  to  a  youth — the  youth  to  man- 


276  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

hood,  what  expectations  are  raised,  what  conjectures  aro 
forme i — what  prognostications  are  uttered.  The  mother 
hopes  her  son  will  be  her  comfort,  and  the  father  his  help, 
and  both  together  their  boast.  As  his  faculties  develop 
they  see,  or  think  they  see — -and  the  fond  illusion  can  be  for- 
given them — the  marks  of  genius  and  the  traits  of  excellence. 
Freaks  of  childish  passion,  instances  of  waywardness  of 
temper,  and  not  unfrequent  acts  of  disobedience,  which  to 
others  hold  out  painful  portents,  are  either  unnoticed,  or  do 
not  disturb  the  pleasing  vision,  nor  lower  the  expectations  of 
future  excellence,  if  not  of  eminence.  Hope  is  predominant 
in  the  parent's  heart — all  children,  he  says,  have  their  follies 
and  fiiults,  and  his  not  more  than  others.  He  sends  them  to 
school,  where  he  trusts  they  will  improve  their  minds  and 
prepare  for  future  life  :  apprentices  them  to  some  trade  or 
profession  by  which  he  expects  they  will  do  well  in  the  world  : 
he  starts  them  in  business,  and  thus  enables  them  to  provide 
for  themselves  and  a  family.  How  many  hours  of  his  pri- 
vate conversation  have  been  spent  with  his  wife  over  this  son 
of  theirs.  What  pictures  have  been  drawn  of  his  future 
career.  Surely  such  talents — so  cultivated,  and  with  such 
advantages,  must  succeed.  Under  the  burdens  of  life,  and 
the  cares  and  labors  which  their  family  brings  upon  them, 
they  look  forward  during  the  infancy  of  their  children,  to 
future  years,  anticipating  the  pleasures  to  arise  from  the 
obedience,  gratitude,  and  usefulness  of  those  who  they  think 
will  be  the  prop  of  their  old  age,  and  the  supporters  of  each 
other  when  they  are  gone  to  their  rest.  Pleasing  reflections  ! 
Joyful  anticipations !  And  in  many  cases,  vain  illusions  ! 
How  wisely  is  it  ordered  that  man  should  not  be  able  to  lift 
up  the  veil  of  futurity  and  foresee  the  history  of  himself  and 
of  his  children.     It  is  enough  to  know  the  ills  of  life  as  thoj 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    277 

arise,  without  contemplating  them  in  the  distance.  "What  a 
misery  to  have  all  these  hopes  end  in  bitter  disappointment, 
and  become  like  beautiful  blossoms  cut  off  by  a  nipping  froet. 
And  what  is  it  that  will  frustrate  the  hopes  of  parents  ?  I 
speak  not  now  of  that  disappointment  which  is  occasioned 
by  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  in  the  early  death  of 
children.  This  often  comes,  but  how  many  are  there  who, 
under  a  bitterer  disappointment  still,  live  to  wish  their  chil- 
dren  had  died  in  infancy.  How  many  who  amidst  the  sins 
and  follies  of  the  after-years  of  their  children's  lives,  have 
mourned  with  grief  of  heart,  and  exclaimed,  "  Oh,  that  my 
son  had  died  from  the  womb,  and  that  the  cradle  had 
become  his  coffin,  rather  than  that  he  should  have  lived  to 
distress  and  dishonor  me  as  he  has  done." 

But  what  is  it  that  will  disappoint  parental  hopes  .-* 
Uudutifulness^  and  want  of  affection^  will  do  this. 
Parents  have  a  right  granted  by  nature,  confirmed  by  reason, 
and  enjoined  by  Scripture,  to  the  obedience,  honor,  grati- 
tude, and  love  of  their  children.  They  look  for  their  due, 
and  expect  everything  from  their  offspring  that  can  thus  con- 
duce to  their  comfort.  To  receive  rudeness  instead  of  re- 
spect— disobedience  instead  of  submission — contempt  instead 
of  esteem — and  cold  indifference  or  manifest  dislike,  or  cruel 
unkindness,  instead  of  affection  and  gratitude  :  how  cutting 
is  all  this  !  Well  did  Solomon  say,  "  A  foolish  son  is  a  grief 
to  his  father,  and  a  bitterness  to  her  that  bore  him."  "  Oh, 
how  often,"  do  they  say  together,  "  has  our  authority  been 
affronted  and  our  love  slighted  for  a  mere  trifle.  We  expect- 
ed better  things,  and  naturally  supposed  that  so  much  love 
as  we  have  lavished  upon  him  would  have  brought  us  back 
some  love  in  return.     Is  this  the  reward  of  all  our  study  and 


2*78  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

efforts  to  make  him  happy  and  do  him  good  ?     Oh,  who  can 
tell, 

"  How  sharper  than  a  serpent's  tooth  it  is 
To  have  a  thankless  child." 

I  believe  that  a  deep  filial  reverence  is  often  the  basis  of  that 
higher  principle — the  fear  of  God  ;  and  that  on  the  contrary, 
a  manifest  want  of  good  disposition  and  good  conduct  to- 
wards parents,  must  ever  be  attended  with,  or  lead  to,  irre- 
ligion,  and  many  other  criminal  states  of  mind  and  conduct. 
Indolence^  a  want  of  application,  and  carelessness  about 
genei'al  improvement,  must,  of  course,  produce  the  disappoint- 
ment! now  speak  of.  After  the  best  school  has  been  selected 
for  education,  and  also  a  suitable  situation  for  acquiring  a 
knowledge  of  business  ;  when  of  course  improvement  in  gen- 
eral knowledge,  and  especially  in  the  knowledge  of  secular 
matters,  is  naturallly  looked  for,  then  to  see  nothing  but  in- 
dolence, ignorance,  and  stupidity — money,  time,  exhortation, 
all  wasted  ;  the  youth  going  forth  into  the  world  ill-informed, 
unskilled  in  matters  of  trade,  unfit  for  any  situation  of  impor- 
tance as  a  servant,  and  equally  unfit  to  manage  a  business  as 
a  master  !  How  mortifying,  how  disappointing,  is  all  this  to 
a  father  !  How  distressing  to  find  all  bis  schemes  thwarted  ; 
all  his  anticipations  frustrated  ;  and  while  other  young  men 
are  making  their  way  in  life,  to  see  his  son  neither  able  nor 
willing  to  do  anything  for  himself !  He  may  not  be  vicious 
— but  he  is  idle,  which  is  next  to  actual  crime,  and  generally 
leads  to  it. 

Versatility  of  disposition  is  another  defect  of  parental 
hopes,  wherever  it  exists.  It  was  very  wise  counsel  which 
Solomon  gave,  where  he  says,  "Meddle  not  with  them  that 
are  given  to  change."     To  change,  when  it  is  from  bad  to 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    279 

good,  is  always  right ;  and  it  is  a  part  of  wisdom  to  know 
when  and  how  to  change  for  the  better.  This  is  a  diflferent 
thing  from  being  "  given  to  change."  I  repeat  what  I  said 
in  the  last  sermon,  that  there  is  nothing  against  which  a 
young  man  ought  more  assiduously  to  guard  than  versatility 
of  disposition.  There  is  as  much  truth  as  beauty  in  the 
proverb,  "  A  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss."  Reuben's 
character  should  be  a  beacon  to  all  young  men,  "  Unstable 
as  water,  thou  shalt  not  excel.'^^  The  man  who  tries  many 
things,  without  abiding  by  anything,  is  absolutely  certain  to 
do  nothing.  A  tree  may  sometimes  be  better  for  one  removal, 
but  it  can  never  flourish  under  a  frequent  transplanting. 
How  annoying  is  it  to  a  father  to  find  that  he  has  scarcely 
introduced  a  son  into  a  good  situation  ere  the  youth  grows 
tired  of  it  and  leaves  it,  and  comes  back  again  a  dead  weight 
upon  his  father's  hands,  till  tired  out  with  his  perpetual 
changes,  the  good  man  is  compelled  to  throw  him  upon  his 
own  resources,  when  he  generally  comes  to  ruin.* 

*  There  is  a  very  lamentable  instance  of  the  disappointment  of  paren- 
tal hopes,  occasioned  by  an  unsettled  and  roving  disposition,  recorded 
in  the  memoir  of  that  distinguished  theologian,  the  late  Andrew  Ful- 
ler. His  eldest  boy  was  a  youth  answering  to  this  character.  His 
father  obtained  for  him  a  situation  in  London.  He  at  one  time  thought 
of  the  work  of  the  ministry,  and  was  then  of  course,  a  moral,  and  ap- 
parently religious  young  man.  His  father,  however,  soon  recorded 
this  remark  in  his  diary :  •'  Alas,  alas,  I  have  seen  that  in  the  conduct 
of  my  poor  boy  which  has  almost  broken  my  heart,  whose  instability 
is  continually  appearing.  He  must  leave  London,  and  what  to  do  with 
him  T  know  not."  Another  situation  was  procured  in  his  native  town, 
but  his  restless  disposition  soon  discovered  itself,  and  he  enJisted  into 
the  army.  In  a  little  time,  being  understood  to  be  an  apprentice,  he 
was  discharged.  Another  situation  was  found  for  him,  but  in  vain  ; 
for  he  enlisted  a  second  time,  then  into  the  marines.  His  father  in 
compliance  with  his  wishes  procured  his  liberation ;  and  in  about  9 


280  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

Failure  in  Business,  however  it  occurs,  must  of  necessity 
prove  a  very  painful  disappointment  to  parental  hopes. 
When  a  father  has  started  his  son  in  business,  and  advanced 
capital  for  that  purpose,  and  had  expected  to  see  him  pros- 
month  he  left  his  new  place  and  his  friends.  Perceiving  there  was  no 
hope  of  his  settling  to  business,  his  sorrowing  parent  procured  him  a 
situation  in  a  merchant  ship ;  but  being  on  shore  one  Lord's  day,  before 
he  joined  the  ship,  he  was  laid  hold  of  by  the  press-gang  and  was  car- 
ried to  sea.  It  was  soon  reported  that  the  poor  boy  had  been  guilty 
of  some  misdemeanor  ;  had  been  tried,  and  sentenced  to  receive  three 
hundred  lashes  ;  that  he  received  them,  and  immediately  expired. 
Under  this  trial  Mr.  F.  thus  wrote  to  a  friend :  "  Oh :  this  is  heart's 
trouble  !  In  former  cases  my  heart  found  vent  in  tears ;  but  now  I  can 
seldom  weep.  A  kind  of  morbid  heart-sickness  preys  upon  me  from 
day  today.  Every  object  round  me  reminds  me  of  him  !  Ah,  he  was 
wicked  and  mine  eye  was  not  over  him  to  prevent  it, — he  was  detect- 
ed, tried,  and  condemned,  and  I  knew  it  not — he  cried  under  his  agonies  ; 
but  1  heard  him  not; — he  expired  without  an  eye  to  pity  or  a  hand  to 
help  him.  Oh,  Absalom,  my  son,  my  son  !  would  I  had  died  for  thee, 
my  son !" 

The  report  however  was  incorrect,  yet  some  time  afterwards  he  de- 
serted, and  suffered  so  severe  a  punishment  as  to  be  totally  unfitted  for 
servicje,  by  the  effect  it  had  upon  his  health.  He  was  again  discharged. 
He  in  some  measure  recovered  his  health,  and  a  situation  was  about 
to  be  provided  for  him ;  but  he  again  absconded,  entered  a  second  time 
into  the  marines,  went  to  sea,  and  his  friends  never  again  saw  him. 
He  died  off  Lisbon  after  a  lingering  illness  :  and  there  is  some  reason 
to  hope,  confessing  and  lamenting  the  error  of  his  ways. 

''This  narrative,"  remarks  Mr.  Fuller's  biographer,  "  contains  many 
things  painful  to  surviving  friends,  which  they  would  gladly  have 
buried  in  oblivion,  and  which  I  would  never  have  inserted  had  they  ab- 
solutely forbidden  me.  But  the  strongroom  there  seems  to  be  to  hope 
that  so  affecting  an  account  may  be,  under  the  Divine  blessing,  the 
means  of  reclaiming  some  unhappy  youth  under  similar  circumstances, 
or  of  deterring  others  from  rending  a  parent's  heart  with  anguish,  and 
involving  themselves  in  misery,  has  induced  them  to  yield  to  my  wish 
ils  not  being  suppressed." 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    281 

per,  it  must  be  a  source  of  very  great  distress  to  find  that  ali 
his  efforts  to  serve  him  are  abortive.  Where  this  is  the  effect 
of  causes  over  which  even  industry  and  ability  could  have 
control  ;  which  involve  no  blame  ;  and  which  therefore  must 
be  resolved  into  the  dispensations  of  Providence,  there  is 
not  the  aggravation  of  sorrow  which  is  produced  by  incapa- 
city, indolence,  or  extravagance.  In  the  former  case  a  judi- 
cious and  kind  father  will  comfort  his  unfortunate  son,  and 
cheer  him  onward,  by  sympathy  and  promises  of  assistance, 
])iake  other  efforts.  It  is  of  course  a  trial,  a  heavy  oiae : 
but  how  much  heavier  when  it  is  the  result  of  misconduct. 
When  this  has  led  to  the  sad  result,  how  bitter  is  the  cup  of 
parental  sorrow  !  For  a  father  to  occupy  the  dreadful  post 
of  observation,  darker  every  hour,  as  he  watches  the  down- 
ward progress  of  a  son  negligent  of  his  business,  and  giving 
himself  up  to  habits  which  must  end  in  his  ruin  !  Oh,  misera- 
ble son,  and  miserable  parent.  He  who  should,  and  might, 
have  been  a  flourishing  tradesman,  becomes  a  bankrupt,  and 
instead  of  rising  to  respectability,  sinks  to  indigence  and  coa- 
tempt.  How  many  fond  anticipations  are  terminated — how 
many  bright  visions  are  dispelled — how  many  joyous  expec- 
tations are  prostrated  by  that  wreck  !  And  as  the  hopes  of 
past  times  are  defeated — none  for  the  future  can  be  indulged. 
Had  it  been  the  result  of  misfortune,  the  son  might  have 
recovered  himself;  but  as  the  ruin  came  by  misconduct,  what 
ground,  for  hope  is  left  to  the  disconsolate  father  ? 

Profligate  conduct  is  the  bitterest  disappointment  of 
all.  To  see  a  young  man  who  has  perhaps  been  reli- 
giously educated,  and  brought  up  in  the  fear  of  God,  so 
far  forgetting  the  instructions,  the  prayers,  and  example  of 
his  father,  and  the  tears  and  affectionate  entreaties  of  his 
mother,  as  "  to  walk  in  the  counsel  of  the  ungodly — to  stand 


282 

in  the  way  of  sinners — and  sit  in  the  seat  of  the  scornful :" 
to  see  him  forming  bad  associations — neglecting  business — ■ 
indulging  his  evil  propensities — wandering  off  like  the  prodi- 
gal into  the  paths  of  vice  and  profligacy,  the  slave  of  lust 
and  wine — how  distressfully  disappointing  is  all  this  !  Oh, 
unhappy  parents  !  You  who  have  been  called  to  endure  this 
trial,  and  you  only,  can  tell  what  this  means  ;  and  even  you 
can  rather  know  than  tell  it.  "  Oh,"  says  the  Christian 
parent,  "  is  it  then  come  to  this — all  my  solicitude,  my  prayers, 
my  tears,  for  my  son,  ending  in  his  profligacy  !  All  my  desires 
and  expectations  that  he  would  become  a  child  of  Grod,  ter- 
minated in  his  being  a  prodigal !  All  my  hopes  of  his  being 
a  servant  of  Christ  disappointed  in  my  seeing  him  a  slave  of 
Satan !  Oh,  how  carefully  have  I  watched  him — how  dili- 
gently have  I  instructed  him — how  earnestly  have  I  prayed 
for  him — how  anxiously  have  I  waited  for  his  yielding  him- 
self up  to  God  and  coming  into  the  fellowship  of  his  church. 
And  are  all  my  prayers  and  tears  as  water  spilt  upon  the 
ground  ?  In  all  I  have  done  for  his  conversion  and  salvation 
have  I  been  laboring  in  vain  and  spending  my  strength  for 
naught — yea  worse  than  in  vain  :  for  every  instruction,  correc- 
tion, and  reproof,  has  aggravated  his  guilt  here,  and  will  in- 
crease his  misery  hereafter ;  so  that  while  as  to  intention  I 
was  acting  the  most  kind  and  tender  part,  I  was,  as  to  result, 
only  treasuring  up  for  my  son  wrath  against  the  day  of  wrath. 
Alas,  alas  :  Woe  is  me.  ^  0  my  son,  my  son !'  " 

How  tenfold  more  dreadful  are  these  reflections  if  the 
son  has  died  in  his  sins ;  a  case  by  no  means  uncommon. 
How  painful  are  the  father's  fears  that  his  child  has  fallen 
into  a  state  of  everlasting  ruin.  "  Oh,"  will  the  afflicted 
parent  say,  "  how  comparatively  light  would  be  my  sorrows, 
if  while  lookmg  on  his  breathless  corpse,  and  mourning  tha 


DISAPPOINTINa    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    283 

disappointment  of  my  hopes  as  to  the  present  life,  I  could  by 
faith  look  forward  to  a  world  of  glory,  and  see  the  branch  of 
my  family  which  is  cut  off  from  earth,  transplanted  thither 
and  flourishing  there.  Joy  would  then  mingle  with  my 
parental  sorrows  and  praises  with  my  tears.  But  alas,  I 
have  reason  to  fear  that  it  was  cut  down  that  it  might  be 
cast  into  everlasting  burnings.  On  the  former  supposition  I 
might  have  comforted  myself  with  the  thought  of  meeting 
my  child  again,  and  of  meeting  him  on  terms  of  infinite  ad- 
vantage, to  be  no  more  separated  from  him.  But  alas,  now 
I  have  lost  my  child,  and  lost  him  for  ever.  Nor  is  this  all. 
It  would  be  mournful  to  me  to  think  I  should  meet  him  no 
more  ;  yet  as  the  matter  now  stands,  even  that  would  be 
some  alleviation  to  my  distress — but  the  immutable  decrees 
of  God  forbid  it.  I  must  meet  him  at  the  bar  of  God,  and 
0,  what  a  dreadful  interview  will  it  be.  Must  I  be  a  wit- 
ness against  him  .?  How  terrible  an  office  !  To  bear  my 
testimony  for  the  condemnation  of  one  whom  I  tenderly 
loved,  of  one  whose  soul  I  would  have  died  to  deliver.  Oh, 
that  if  no  shelter  must  be  allowed  him,  Grod  would  hide  me 
in  the  grave  till  this  tremendous  scene  of  His  indignation  be 
overpast ;  lest  the  anguish  of  a  parent  mingle  with  the  joys 
of  a  rising  saint,  and  to  me  overcast  the  triumphs  of  the 
day."* 

This  disappointment  may,  however,  take  place  where  none 
of  the  former  causes  exist — there  may  be  no  profligacy — no 
versatility — no  indolence — nor  want  of  cleverness  in  business ; 
but  on  the  other  hand,  there  is  the  very  opposite  of  all  this. 
Still  there  may  be,  as  we  have  seen  in  a  former  sermon, 
«  defective   amiability — the   possession   of  all    other   good 

♦Doddridge's  "  Serrror.  on  the  reflections  of  a  Pious  Parent  ovex  an 
(Jngodly  Son. 


284  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

things,  yet  the  want  of  the  one  best  thing — true  religion. 
To  a  really  Christian  parent,  the  want  of  this  in  his  qhildren 
is  a  severe  trial — a  heavy  afliction.  This  is  the  chief  object 
of  his  desires,  his  prayers,  his  efforts,  and  his  hopes.  Till 
they  are  savingly  converted  to  God  by  his  grace,  and  they  are 
brought  to  live  a  life  of  faith  in  God — in  Christ — in  heaven 
— he  is,  and  must  be  disappointed.  He  longed  above  all 
things  for  their  salvation,  and  hoped  to  see  them  members 
of  the  church  of  Christ  and  useful  in  setting  up  his  kingdom 
in  the  world  :  and  in  the  absence  of  this,  though  they  should 
gain  wealth,  rank,  or  fame,  he  is  a  disappointed  father.  He 
cannot  but  rejoice  and  be  thankful  that  his  sons  are  not  pro- 
flio-ates — but  as  long  as  they  are  not  true  Christians,  his  chief 
joy  is  not  fulfilled.  He  looks  upon  their  success,  their  re- 
spectability, their  worldly  comfort — with  the  inward  reflection, 
"Ah,  this  is  all  very  well,  and  I  am  truly  thankful  for  it, 
but  it  reaches  no  farther  than  the  grave ;  and  what  I  have 
coveted  for  them,  prayed  for,  and  sought,  is,  '  Grlory,  honor, 
immortality,  and  eternal  life.'  I  wanted  them  to  be  united 
with  me  by  ties  which  would  last  for  ever  and  make  us  one 
in  heaven  as  well  as  upon  earth.  Notwithstanding  their 
worldly  prosperity,  then,  I  am  by  their  want  of  personal 
religion  a  disappointed  father." 

This  disappointment  of  parents  in  regard  to  their 
children  is  aggravated  by  several  circumstances  that  may 
be  glanced  at.  Where  unusual  care  has  been  bestowed 
upon  their  education,  and  it  might  have  been  expected 
that  a  proportionate  degree  of  excellence  would  have  been 
the  result : — where  considerable  talents  have  been  possess- 
ed, and  early  indications  of  genius  have  exhibited  them- 
selves so  as  to  awaken  expectations  : — where  virtue  at  one 
time  began  to  bud,  and  piety  to  blossom  : — where  friends 


J 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    285 

congratulated  the  parents,  and  the  parents  felicitated  them- 
selves on  the  promising  appearances  of  their  children  : — 
whertt,  in  short,  for  awhile  all  seemed  to  hold  out  the  most 
auspicious  omens,  and  justify  the  most  favorable  conclu- 
sions : — oh,  in  such  cases,  to  have  all  these  hopeful  begin- 
nings terminate  unhappily,  and  the  anticipations  raised  upon 
them  disappointed  ;  how  bitter,  how  painful,  how  overwhelm- 
ingly cruel  !  Think  of  a  parent  mourning  over  the  wreck 
of  such  hopes,  and  bewailing  such  a  failure. 

Young  men,  let  me  plead  with  you  on  behalf  of  your 
parents.  If  they  are  here,  and  of  course  many  of  them  are, 
and  hear  me  with  hearts  bleeding  while  I  speak,  oh,  let 
them  be  silent  witnesses  against  you  ;  are  there  not  some  of 
you  who  are  thus  disappointing  every  hope  which  they  have 
formed  cuncerning  you }  Does  not  the  reflection  grieve  and 
shame  you,  and  ought  it  not  to  overwhelm  you  ^  Let  me 
appeal  to  your  sense  of  obligation.  Ungrateful  youths  ! 
Have  you  no  idea  of  what  you  owe  to  them  1  Are  these  the 
returns  you  make  them  for  all  their  bounty,  tenderness,  and 
care,  to  be  a  sword  in  their  bowels  and  to  pierce  their  very 
hearts  ?  Did  they  expect  such  scenes  as  these  when  you 
hung  upon  your  mother's  breast,  reposed  in  her  lap,  and 
grasped,  in  childish  fear,  her  hand  to  protect  you  from  dan- 
ger :  when  you  returned  their  smiles  with  your  own,  and 
cried  with  your  faint  accents  of  endearment,  "  My  father, 
my  mother  ?"  How  can  you  endure  the  thought }  How 
without  embarrassment  can  you  converse  with  them,  and  still 
daily  receive  unnumbered  favors  at  their  hands,  when  you 
are  behaving  in  a  manner  that  looks  as  if  the  more  they  love 
you,  the  more  they  must  be  afflicted  and  terrified  by  you : 
Oh,  that  you  would  have  compassion  upon  them  !  Or  if 
that  will  not  move  you ;  oh,  that  you  would  have  compassion 


286  THE  YOUNG  man's  friend. 

on  yourselves — for  your  own  interest  is  much  more  nearly 
concerned  than  even  theirs. 

It  is  not  yet  too  late,  even  though  till  now  you  have  pur- 
sued this  course  of  disappointment.  There  is  time  to  repair 
the  mischief.  Repentance  and  reformation  will  yet  heal  the 
wounds  which  misconduct  has  inflicted,  and  the  joy  of  re- 
ceiving back  the  prodigal  will  almost  compenisate  for  the 
sufferings  occasioned  by  his  wanderings  and  his  errors.  Say 
then,  and  say  it  at  once,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  to  my  father, 
and  say,  '  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  in  thy 
sight,'  forgive  and  receive  thy  once  sinning  and  ungrateful 
but  now  penitent  child."  Such  a  confession,  followed  up 
with  fruits  meet  for  repentance,  will  bind  up  hearts  all  but 
irreparably  broken,  and  will  transfer  you  to  the  class  I  am 
next  to  describe,  when  I  speak — 

Secondly.  Of  the  young  man  realising  the  hopes  of  his 
parents.  And  it  will  take  very  much  to  do  thii.  Much,  to 
reward  a  mother's  pangs  in  child-birth  ;  her  months  of  anx- 
ious care  by  day,  and  often  sleepless  vigilance  at  night,  all 
which  involuntarily  prompted  her  to  say  "  Surely  I  shall  have 
a  rich  reward  one  day  for  this."  Much,  that  will  be  ac- 
counted an  adequate  reward  for  a  father's  incessant  toil  to 
provide  for  his  family — his  deep  concern  to  select  the  best 
school  and  the  most  suitable  situation  of  business — his  wake- 
ful and  ceaseless  solicitude  for  the  welfare  of  his  sons.  How 
often  when  bearing  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day  has  he 
wiped  away  "  the  sweat  of  his  brow,"  and  exclaimed  with 
the  smile  of  hope,  "  Well,  my  boy  will  one  day  reward  me 
for  all  this.  I  am  now  sowing  in  hope  to  reap  one  day  in 
joy  !"  And  there  are  sons  who  realise  all  these  expecta- 
tions.    How  ? 

1.  By  their  dutiful  cotiduct.     "  There,"  said  a  father  who 


J 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    287 

was  once  an  inhabitant  of  this  town,  "  is  a  son  who  never 
gave  his  father's  heart  a  pang."  I  knew  the  son  while  he 
lived,  till  full  of  years,  and  Christian  experience,  and  public 
esteem,  he  no  long  time  since  ascended  to  glory,  and  left 
behind  him  a  name  never  to  be  repeated  but  with  esteem. 
Other  sons  of  the  same  family  had  wrung  their  father's 
heart  with  anguish,  but  he,  by  his  uniform  obedience,  gene- 
ral good  conduct  and  amiable  character,  was  nothing  but  a 
delight  to  his  parents.  How  sweet  is  it  to  a  parent's  heart  to 
see  a  child  so  tender  of  his  comfort  as  to  be  ever  studious  to 
avoid  every  thing  that  would  for  a  moment  distress,  and  to 
do  any  thing  which  would  yield  the  smallest  pleasure.  A 
parent  does  expect,  has  a  right  to  expect  all  this  ;  and  how 
ineffably  sweet  is  it  to  his  heart,  to  be  able  to  say,  "  In  all 
that  is  dutiful,  obedient,  reverential,  respectful  and  attentive, 
my  son  is  all  a  son  should  be  or  can  be.  He  has  equalled 
all  the  ideas  I  had  formed  in  my  most  sanguine  moments  of 
filial  excellence.     My  hopes  are  more  than  realised."* 

2.  High  mental  culture  and  attainments  will  do  much  to 
realise  parental  hopes.  The  most  affectionate  and  amiable 
disposition,  coupled  with  the  most  dutiful  conduct,  will  not 
answer  parental  expectation  if  at  the  same  time  there  be  a 

*  A  beautiful  memoir  of  that  most  saintly  man  and  eminent  clergy- 
man,  the  late  Mr.  Bickersteth,  has  just  appeared  from  the  pen  of  his 
son-in-law,  Mr.  Birks,  and  among  the  other  virtues  for  which  that 
holy  servant  of  Christ  was  distinguished,  filial  reverence  sustained  a 
very  high  place.  The  ea^ly  history  of  Mr.  Bickersteth  exhibits  one 
of  the  most  lovely  and  striking  exhibitions  of  this  excellence,  which  I 
have  ever  met  with.  One  scarcely  wonders  at  the  eminence  he  at- 
tained to  as  a  Christian  and  a  minister,  when  we  read  of  his  exqui- 
sitely beautiful  conduct  as  a  son.  I  am  persuaded  that  much  of  the 
neglect  of  the  fear  of  God  by  which  so  many  of  the  young  men  of  the 
present  day  are  notorious,  may  be  traced  to  a  defect  of  filial  reverence. 
13 


288  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

want  of  application  to  mental  improvement  and  geit ,  t'al  know- 
ledge, and  also  a  stolid  ignorance,  a  deplorably  low  and 
grovelling  taste.  In  this  extraordinary  age,  ev<yj  man  is 
expected  to  fill  up  his  place  with  credit  to  himsdf  and  ad- 
vantage to  others.  Society  never  had  stronger  c!dims  upon 
young  men  than  it  has  now.  It  is  a  high  satisfaction  to  a 
parent  blessed  with  a  promising  son  to  be  able  to  say, 
"  There  is  one  who  has  repaid  all  the  expense  incurred  by 
his  education.  While  at  school,  he  received  the  rjiost  honor- 
able testimonials  for  diligence  and  acquisition.  He  scarcely 
ever  returned  without  a  prize.  He  has  assiduously  improved* 
himself  since  then,  by  reading  and  thinking,  and  low  that  he 
is  entering  upon  life,  be  is  evidently  qualified  to  take  a  high 
standing  for  respectability  and  usefulness.  He  will  not  be 
one  of  the  multitude  who  are  ciphers.  I  certainly  feel  some 
glow  of  heartfelt  delight,  occasionally  rising,  unless,  well 
watched,  into  pride,  as  I  see  how  he  is  acquitting  himself 
already,  and  is  noticed  by  others  ;  and  can  predict  the  circle 
in  which  he  will  move,  and  the  sentiments  and  manner  with 
which  he  will  be  regarded." 

Next  to  this  come  industry,  cleverness^  and  success  in 
business.  For  even  the  other  two  will  not  be  sufficient  to 
satisfy  parental  desire.  A  son  may  be  dutiful  and  intelli- 
gent, but  if  there  be  not  an  aptness  for  trade,  a  habit  of  in- 
dustry, and  a  preparation  for  conducting  business  with  suc- 
cess, there  must  be  disappointment.  Happy  is  the  father 
who  sees  in  his  son  a  constantly  expanding  germ  of  the  dili- 
gent and  thriving  tradesman.  With  what  pleasure  does  ho 
mark  the  indefatigable  application — the  growing  skill — the 
sharpe'ning  sagacity — the  increasing  tact,  of  his  boy,  in  refer- 
ence to  business.  "Ah,"  says  he  with  gratitude,  "  I  see  he 
will  make  a  good  tradesman.     He  will  make  his  way,  and  if 


J 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.     289 

I  am  not  mistaken,  will  rise  in  life.  He  will  be  somethino^." 
The  youth  rises  into  the  man,  and  having  learnt  his  business 
or  profession,  commences  it,  and  displays  as  a  master,  tho 
qualities  he  learnt  and  exhibited  as  an  apprentice  and  a 
shopman.  Success  crowns  his  efforts.  He  is  a  thriving 
tradesman.  His  father  follows  him  through  his  successful 
career  with  secret  delight.  He  is  never  afraid  to  visit  his 
son  lest  he  should  find  him  playing  truant  from  his  shop, 
neglecting  his  business,  with  all  things  in  confusion,  and  ruin 
looking  in  at  the  window.  It  is  always  a  pleasure  to  him  to 
go  and  see  the  beautiful  order,  the  established  system,  the 
well-formed  habits,  the  crowded  resort  of  a  well  conducted 
business.  How  gratifying  to  hear  from  himself  the  report  of 
his  continued  success — of  trade  extending — capital  accumu- 
lating— and  property  gradually  increasing.  The  father's 
solicitude  is  over ;  his  son  is  thoroughly  established  and  has 
attained  a  degree  of  prosperity  which  at  one  time  he  could 
never  have  looked  for.  How  peaceful  and  pleasant  are  the 
reflections  of  the  parents  of  such  a  son  in  their  private  inter- 
course ;  *'  We  are  happy  on  being  released  from  the  pressing 
and  painful  anxieties  of  some  families.  Our  dear  son 
is  obviously  doing  well.  We  never  had  much  fear  of  his 
success  ;  his  steadiness  and  ability  forbade  this  ;  but  what 
little  anxiety  we  felt  is  all  gone.  Prosperity  has  begun  to 
dawn  upon  him,  and  promises  to  shine  more  and  more. 
We  have  have  but  one  anxiety  now,  and  that  is  that  he  may 
settle  well  in  marriage."  This  anxiety  is  natural  and  wise. 
It  is  God's  arrangement  and  intention  that  man  should 
marry,  for  he  sees  that  it  is  not  good  for  him  to  be  alone. 
It  was  not  good  in  Paradise — it  is  not  good  now.  It  is  not 
good  for  his  morals,  his  comfort,  or  his  prosperity :  and  all 
judicious  parents  have  a  wise  solicitude  that  their  children 


290  TUE   YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

should  in  proper  time  marry,  and  always  marry  suitably 
Indiscreet  and  unsuitable  marriages  by  children,  are  a  source 
of  unutterable  grief  to  parents.     Hence  the  joy  which  is  felt 
when  others  of  an  opposite  nature  are  contracted. 

That  anxiety,  in  the  case  I  am  supposing,  is  soon  relieved. 
The  prudence  and  propriety  that  have  characterised  the 
conduct  of  this  good  son  in  other  things,  do  not  forsake  him 
in  this.  He  is  cautious  and  wise  :  selects  a  woman  who  by 
her  sterling  excellence,  good  sense,  and  amiable  qualities,  is 
worthy  of  him.  She  is  one  of  whom  the  wise  man  saith, 
*'  She  looketh  well  to  the  ways  of  her  household.  The  heart 
of  her  husband  doth  safely  trust  her,  so  that  he  shall  have 
no  need  of  spoil."  The  parents  see  with  delight  a  prosper- 
ous business,  a  rising  family,  a  happy  home,       ♦ 

But  still  we  have  not  reached  the  summit  of  a  good  man's 
wishes,  for  though  all  this  is  very  pleasant,  and  to  a  worldly 
man  would  be  quite  sufl&cient  to  realise  his  uttermost  expect- 
ation and  fulfil  his  richest  hopes,  yet  it  is  not  so  with  the 
Christian.  He  has  learnt  that,  for  himself,  religion  is  the 
"  one  thing  needful,"  without  which  he  neither  attains  to 
true  happiness  on  earth,  nor  answers  the  great  end  of  exist- 
ence, nor  is  meetened  for  the  felicity  of  heaven  :  and  what 
he  is  supremely  anxious  for  on  his  own  account,  he  desires 
above  all  things  for  his  children  It  would  be  unnatural  and 
cruel  if  he  did  not.  If  religion  be  all  important  to  him,  it 
can  be  no  less  so  to  them.  Hence  whatever  else  they  may 
gain,  if  they  neglect  this  he  is,  as  I  have  already  said  in  the 
other  divisions  of  the  sermon,  and  I  now  repeat  by  way  of 
emphasis,  still  sad  at  heart. 

But  I  am  now  supposing  a  case  in  which  the  Christian 
parent  sees  his  deepest  anxieties  relieved,  and  his  fondest 
hopes  realized,  in  the  religious  character  of  his  sons.     Aware 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    29^ 

that  they  are  exposed  to  greater  temptations  that  his  dauo^h 
ters,  and  much  more  in  danger  of  neglecting  religion,  he  ia 
proportionably  thankful  when  they  become  decidedly  pious. 
The  first  symptoms  of  a  serious  attention  to  the  momentous 
concerns  of  eternity,  awaken  the  liveliest  emotions  of  delight, 
not  unmixed  with  solicitude,  lest  it  should  be  only,  as  "  the 
morning  cloud,  or  early  dew,  which  passeth  away."  He 
prays  more  intensely  than  ever,  and  watches  more  anxiously, 
for  decision  of  character,  and  shields  the  bud  of  hope  by  his 
most  assiduous  care.  As  the  bud  expands  into  the  blossom, 
and  the  blossom  sets  in  fruit,  his  hopes  and  fears  alternate, 
till  at  lenorth  the  doubtful  case  is  decided,  and  his  child 
becomes  first  a  Christian,  and  then  a  professor.  TVhat  a 
load  of  parental  anxiety  is  removed !  What  an  accession  to- 
parental  delight  is  made !  If  the  youth  has  been  away  from 
home,  and  the  intelligence  of  his  conversion  is  conveyed  by 
letter,  the  good  man's  heart  is  too  full  to  hold,  and  weeping 
over  the  welcome  tidings,  he  hastens  to  his  chamber  to  pour 
out  his  gratitude  to  God,  the  author  of  this  new  rich  mercy, 
a  mercy  in  his  esteem  far  greater  than  the  appointment  of 
his  son  to  a  lucrative  and  honorable  situation,  or  his  success 
in  some  concern  of  business.  And  the  gratitude  of  the  father  is 
equalled,  if  not  surpassed,  by  that  of  the  mother.  "What,  my 
son  a  true  Christian  !  My  boy  for  whom  I  have  suffered  so 
much  deep  and  painful  solicitude — who  when  he  left  home 
wrung  my  heart  with  agonizing  fears,  because  he  was  going 
forth  as  a  lamb  among  wolves — what — he  become  a  sincerely 
religious  man,  a  child  of  God  !  May  I  indeed  believe  the 
blissful  intelligence  !  A  happy  woman  am  I  now  become,  to 
be  the  mother  of  one  who  shall  glorify  God  and  enjoy  him 
for  ever. 

The  religion   of  this   young  man   proves   itself  sincere, 


292  THE  YOUNG  man's  FUTEXD. 

consistent,  and  active.  It  preserves  him  from  the  snares  to 
which  a  youth  away  from  home  is  ever  exposed,  and  affords 
another  illustration  of  the  declaration  that  "  godliness  is 
profitable  for  all  things,  having  the  promise  of  the  life  that 
now  is,  as  well  of  as  that  which  is  to  come."  He  connects 
himself  with  the  schemes  of  usefulness  which  are  so  nume- 
rous in  this  day  of  Christian  activity,  and  becomes  a  blessing 
to  the  church  and  the  world.  His  religion  goes  with  him 
into  his  future  character,  situation,  and  circumstances,  as  a 
husband,  a  father,  a  master,  and  a  tradesman.  He  is  seen 
habitually  among  the  Christian  philanthropists  of  the  age, 
uniting  his  influence  and  energies  with  theirs  to  bless  his 
species  and  glorify  his  God.  His  assistance  is  earnestly 
sought,  and  willingly  granted,  to  all  that  is  going  on  for  the 
moral  renovation  of  the  world.  By  his  prayers,  his  example, 
his  property,  his  intelligence,  and  his  labors,  he  acts  up  to 
the  metaphorical  description  of  the  righteous,  where  our  Lord 
says  to  his  disciples,  "  Ye  are  the  light  of  the  world ;  ye  are 
the  salt  of  the  earth."  His  family  are  brought  up  in  the 
fear  of  the  Lord,  and  are  likely  to  be  his  imitators  in  all 
good  things,  and  thus  hand  forward  religion  as  a  heir-loom 
to  his  descendants. 

What  a  beautiful  scene  is  this  for  Christian  parents  to 
witness,  if  indeed,  they  are  still  alive  to  watch  the  growing 
piety,  prosperity,  happiness,  and  usefulness  of  this  their  son. 
How  blissful  are  the  feelings,  how  delightful  the  intercourse 
of  the  happy  couple  as  they  sit  and  talk  of  this  their  beloved 
and  holy  child.  If  he  live  dt  home  with  them,  how  uninter- 
ruptedly agreeable  is  their  intercourse  with  him.  They  have 
nothing  to  complain  of  or  to  reprove  ;  and  he  nothing  to  ex- 
plain, defend,  or  excuse.  They  have  common  objects  com- 
mon sympathies,  and  common  topics.     Their  spiritual  tastes 


DISAPPOIXTIXG     OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OE    PARENTS.    293 

their  highest  and  most  momentous  pursuits  and  pleasures, 
are  alike.  How  it  rejoices  them  to  be  the  witnesses  of  his 
pietj  and  activity,  and  to  hear  the  testimonies  of  others  to 
his  respectability,  importance,  and  usefulness.  How  many 
congratulations  they  receive  on  the  character  and  conduct  of 
this  their  son.  They  see  old  age  coming  on  upon  them,  but 
here  is  the  bright  star  in  the  evening  sky  of  their  life.  Here 
is  no  disappointment,  but  on  the  other  hand,  the  fulfilment 
of  their  brightest  hopes.  Here  is  the  rich  reward  of  all 
their  parental  labor  and  anxieties — the  abundant  answer  of 
all  their  prayers. 

Tt  may  be  that  these  parents  are  called,  according  to  tho 
order  of  nature,  to  descend  first  to  the  tomb.  During  a  lon^^ 
decay,  they  are  cheered  and  comforted,  if  their  son  \we  at 
home,  with  his  presence,  his  prayers,  and  his  conversation. 
If  he  live  away  from  home,  they  are  refreshed  by  his  letters, 
and  by  his  occasional  visits.  His  conduct  has  planted  no 
thorns  in  their  dying  pillow,  but  has  softened  it  till  it  is 
rendered  even  downy.  They  feel  that  separation  from  such 
a  child  is,  indeed,  to  nature  bitter  and  painful :  but  then  hia 
piety  assures  them  they  are  not  parting  for  ever.  As  he 
comforts  them  by  his  holy  suggestions  and  devout  petitions, 
they  are  ofttimes  in  a  strait,  like  the  apostle,  desiring  to 
depart  to  be  with  Christ,  and  yet  on  the  other  hand, 
desiring,  for  the  sake  of  those  they  are  leaving,  to  remain. 
No  painful  but  necessary  warnings  issue  from  their  lips, 
wringing  their  hearts  with  anguish,  as  they  solemnly  adjure 
an  ungodly  son  to  forsake  his  ways.  No  bitter  tears  roll 
down  their  cheeks  as  they  grasp  his  hand  and  entreat  him  to 
repent,  and  thus  mitigate  the  sorrows  of  death,  the  only 
sorrow  they  know.  On  the  contrary,  all  are  words  of  conso- 
lation,  expressions  of  gratitude,   and  efi'usions  of  joy,  that 


294  THE  YOUNG  man's  frtexd. 

they  shall  soon  meet  again.  They  are  ready  to  repeat  the 
words  of  Simeon,  "  Lord,  now  lettest  thou  thy  servant 
depart  in  peace,  for  mine  eyes  have  seen  thy  salvation,  not 
only  upon  myself,  hut  upon  my  children  also."  Happy, 
happy  parents,  and  happy  son. 

But  if  on  the  other  hand,  this  son  after  his  father's  own 
heart  should,  by  an  inversion  of  the  order  of  nature,  he 
called  first  to  descend  to  the  grave,  with  what  different  feel- 
ings do  his  pious  parents  hang  over  his  couch  of  sickness 
and  watch  the  progress  of  decay  and  the  advance  of  death, 
from  those  of  parents  who  have  to  wait  around  the  death- 
bed of  an  ungodly  son.  True  they  are  disappointed  by  his 
early  removal  from  our  world.  To  see  such  a  blossom,  yea 
fruit,  of  parental  hope  cut  off,  and  sent  to  the  grave,  is 
indeed  a  trial — oh,  to  lose  such  a  son  !  One  so  dutiful,  so 
good,  so  holy,  so  promising,  so  useful,  to  be  carried  off  from 
them,  from  the  church,  from  the  world  ; — how  mysterious  an 
event — how  great  a  calamity.  Yes,  but  then  his  deep  sub- 
mission— his  strong  faith — his  joy  unspeakable  and  peace 
that  passeth  understanding — his  holy  converse — his  words 
of  consolation  to  them — how  tranquillising  all  this  !  No 
agonizing  fears  about  his  spiritual  state  distress  their  minds. 
All  is  safe  for  eternity.  He  dies — but  they  can  trace  him 
to  the  realms  of  glory.  To  lose  such  a  son  is  of  course  a 
severe  trial  of  their  faith  and  patience  :  but  the  recollections 
of  his  past  character  and  conduct — the  soothing  influence 
of  his  dyincr  testimony — the  assurance  of  his  heavenly  bliss 
— the  anticipations  of  their  final  meeting  and  everlasting 
association,  reconcile  them  to  the  stroke,  and  enable  them  to 
feel  that  after  all  this^  disappointment  is  inconceivably  lighter 
than  that  of  many  who  are  afflicted  by  the  conduct  of  a 
living  profligate.     In  one  case  the  affliction  brings  its  own 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    295 

comfort  with  it — but  in  the  other  it  is  unmixed  wormwood 
and  gall.  To  the  language  of  condolence  which  they  receive 
from  sympathising  friends,  they  are  ready  to  give  the  answer 
which  the  Duke  of  Ormond  did  in  similar  circumstances,  *'  I 
would  rather  have  my  dead  son  than  half  the  living  sons  of 
all  Christendom." 

There  have  been  cases  where  the  realisation  of  parental 
hopes  has  come  after  a  season  of  protracted,  anxious,  and 
even  agonising  fear  and  disappointment.  The  exquisitely 
beautiful  parable  of  the  prodigal  son,  in  its  close  as  well  as 
in  its  beginning,  has  in  a  few  instances,  and  perhaps  but  a 
few,  received  its  accomplishment  in  the  children  of  the  godly. 
There  have  been  youths  whose  erratic  career  of  folly  and  sin 
has  half-broken  a  father's  and  a  mother's  heart,  but  whose 
ultimate  recovery  came  just  in  time  to  save  them  from  being 
entirely  crushed.  I  heard  of  one  young  man  of  this  descrip- 
tion who,  though  the  son  o-f  religious  parents,  and  therefore 
the  child  of  many  prayers  and  much  instruction,  had  wan- 
dered far,  and  wide,  and  long,  from  the  path  of  piety  and 
morality.  Through  his  dark  and  winding  course  he  was 
followed  by  a  father's  prayers  and  a  mother's  tears.  Every 
means  which  holy  and  agonising  ingenuity  could  suggest, 
had  been  tried  to  reclaim  him,  but  in  vain.  To  parental 
remonsti-ance  while  under  his  father's  roof  he  was  deaf,  and 
to  all  letters  sent  to  him  in  his  distant  vagrancies  he  was 
insensible.  As  a  last  means  of  restoring  him,  after  a  long 
suspension  of  intercourse,  his  father,  who  could  ncjfc  forget 
his  truant  and  wicked  son,  nor  alienate  his  heart  altogether 
from  him,  called  together  in  the  vestry  of  the  chapel  where, 
if  I  mistake  not,  he  labored  as  a  minister,  a  few  friends  to 
pray  for  his  penitence  and  restoration.  After  several  had 
poured  out  their  hearts  in  fervent  supplication,  the  father  gavo 
13* 


206  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

utterance  to  his  own  feelings,  in  a  strain  of  most  tender  sup- 
plication, which  melted  all  present  to  tears.  During  thesa 
exercises  a  poor  wretched  creature  was  seen  wandering  round 
the  window  and  listening  at  the  door  of  the  vestry  ;  and  no 
sooner  had  the  prayer  of  the  good  man  for  his  son  ended,  and 
when  the  meeting  was  about  to  break  up,  than  the  listener, 
who  was  indeed  the  subject  of  all  these  prayers,  entered, 
fell  upon  the  neck  of  his  father,  and  simply  sobbed  out,  "0, 
my  father,  forgive  me."  It  is  unnecessary  I  should  describe 
the  scene  that  followed,  you  have  it  in  the  parable  of  the 
prodigal  son, — "  Kejoice  with  me,  for  this  my  son  was  dead 
and  is  alive  again,  he  was  lost  and  is  found."  He  lived  a 
new  life,  and  realised  in  the  end,  after  long  disappointing 
them,  the  hopes  of  his  parents.  What  an  encouragement  to 
parents  to  continue  instant  in  prayer.  And  what  an  encou- 
ragement to  prodigals  to  say,  "  I  will  arise  and  go  unto  my 
father,  and  say.  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven,  and 
in  thy  sight,  and  am  no  more  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son." 
If  any  whose  eye  shall  glance  over  these  pages,  shall  be  still 
in  the  land  of  their  wanderings,  to  them  would  I  say, 
"  Return,  return."  It  is  not  yet  too  late.  You  may  still 
realise  the  hopes  of  your  parents.  You  may  still  repent, 
reform,  and  lead  a  new  life.  The  grace  of  God  which 
bringeth  salvation  may  teach  you  to  deny  ungodliness  and 
worldly  lusts,  and  to  live  soberly,  righteously,  and  godly  in 
this  evil  world.  You  may  be  respectable,  happy,  and  useful 
even  yet.  Abandon  despair.  There  is  no  need  of  it  even 
in  your  case.  If  returning  prodigals  are  few,  be  you  one  of 
the  few.  Let  me  recommend,  earnestly  recommend  you  to 
read  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  the  gospel  by  Luke,  which  is 
one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  touching  portions  of  the  whole 
Bible.     It  is  full  of  instruction,  of  tenderness,  of  encourage- 


DISAPPOINTING    OR    REALISING    THE    HOPES    OF    PARENTS.    297 

nient ;  and  will,  if  you  have  not  pressed  out  every  spark  of 
feeling  from  your  soul,  melt  your  heart  to  compunction  and 
your  eyes  to  tears.  It  describes  your  character,  suits  your 
condition,  represents  your  father's  heart  towards  you,  and 
will  perhaps  by  God's  grace,  recover  you  from  your  present 
condition.  Read  it,  read  it  till  this  blessed  effect  is  produced. 
Kead  it  with  earnest  prayer,  that  you  may  be  indeed  a 
reclaimed,  restored  prodigal,  and  even  yet  bind  up  the  heart 
you  have  nearly  broken,  and  not  bring  down  a  father's  grey 
hairs  in  sorrow  to  the  grave.  Or  if  your  parents  have  gone 
to  the  world  where  "  the  wicked  cease  from  troubling  and 
the  weary  are  at  rest,"  and  have  perhaps  been  hurried  to 
their  grave  by  your  misconduct ;  if  they  left  our  earth  with 
hearts  broken  by  disappointed  hopes,  and  breathed  out  their 
last  feelings  for  you,  exclaiming,  "  O  my  son^  my  son,  must 
we  part  for  erg?-,"  if  in  this  world  there  was  no  reward,  by 
your  good  conduct,  of  their  prayers,  their  tears,  their 
example,  and  their  labors — carry  it  to  them,  by  your  present 
repentance  and  reformation,  and  by  your  thus  following  them 
thither  when  you  die.  If  nothing  but  disappointment  was 
felt  by  them  here,  let  fruition  be  granted  to  them  there. 
Though  they  left  you  in  your  sinful  wanderings  when  they 
ascended  to  their  glory,  and  feared  they  had  lost  you  for 
ever,  let  them  by  your  forsaking  your  evil  courses,  find  you 
in  Paradise.  What  a  meeting  will  you  then  have  in  that 
happy  state  !  How  will  it  enhance  even  their  heavenly 
felicity,  after  having  given  up  all  hope  of  your  salvation  upon 
earth,  to  have  the  assurance  of  your  salvation  by  seeing  you 
in  heaven.  Richly  will  it  reward  them  for  all  their  sorrows 
ajid  anxiety,  and  infinitely  more  than  compensate  for  all  they 
have  endured  on  your  account. 

And  now,  young  men,  let  me  close  this  discourse  by  a  few 


298  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

more  words  of  affectionate  yet  earnest  expostulation  and  per- 
suasion. It  is  cruel  under  any  circumstances  to  frustrate 
wilfully  and  wantonly,  by  any  part  of  our  conduct,  the  hopes 
of  our  fellow-creatures  ;  and  the  cruelty  is  in  exact  propor- 
tion to  the  strength^  the  propriety,  and  the  justness  of  the 
expectations  which  are  so  defeated.  If  persons  who  have 
no  right  to  expect  anything  from  us,  make  us,  out  of  mere 
choice,  the  subject  of  foolish  and  unwarranted  anticipations, 
we  have  no  great  need  to  concern  ourselves  about  the  matter, 
and  any  disappointment  we  may  occasion  is  rather  a  punish- 
ment for  their  own  folly  than  a  reproach  upon  ourselves.  But 
where  by  a  kind  of  necessity  we  become  to  others  the  objects 
of  their  well-founded  and  rational  expectations — where  these 
expectations  are  by  every  consideration  authorized,  and  are 
very  large — where  the  alternative  of  disappointment  or  frui- 
tion must  be  followed  with  great  happiness  or  misery — and 
where  it  is  in  our  own  power  to  occasion  one  or  the  other  of 
these  alternatives,  it  is  most  cruel  wantonly  to  sport  with 
those  hopes  which  are  thus  suspended  upon  our  conduct 
A  generous  and  sensitive  mind  does  not  like  to  occasion  dis- 
appointment even  to  a  dumb  animal.  Think,  then,  of  the 
hopes  of  parents  in  reference  to  their  children.  I  appeal  to 
your  generosity  on  their  behalf.  Have  they  not  a  right  to 
entertain  hope  concerning  you  }  Does  not  the  very  relation- 
ship give  them  this  right }  Fancy  your  mother  thus  ad- 
dressing you, — "  I  am  a  mother,  and  have  all  a  mother's 
affections,  anxieties,  hopes,  and  rights.  Next  to  God  and 
my  husband,  in  whom  should  I  hope  so  justly  as  in  my  child, 
whom  I  have  borne  in  my  womb — nursed  at  my  breast — 
fondled  in  my  arms  ?  FOr  whom  I  have  given  the  sleep  of 
countless  nights,  and  the  labor  of  countless  days.  Whom  I 
have  taught  to  walk,  to  speak,  to  think,  to  act      Whom  J 


DISArPOINTING    OR    E£ALISING    THE    HOrES    OF    PARENTS.    299 

have  loved  with  a  mother's  love — watched  around  his  couch 
in  sickness — wept  when  he  wept,  and  smiled  when  he  smiled 
— heard  his  complaints,  and  soothed  his  sorrows — borne  with 
his  waywardness,  and  gently  reproved  his  faults.  Whom  as 
an  infant,  a  child,  a  youth,  a  man,  I  have  anxiously  cared  for, 
as  I  have  watched  with  solicitude  each  successive  develop- 
ment. Whom  I  have  prayed  for,  instructed,  warned,  en- 
couraged. 0,  my  son,  my  son,  had  not  thy  mother  a  right 
to  hope  that  all  this  would  be  rewarded  at  some  period  when 
it  should  be  all  understood  ?  I  saw  thy  infant  smiles  as 
thou  turnedst  thy  eyes  upon  her  that  fed  thee  from  her 
bosom,  and  which  seemed  at  that  time  silently  to  thank  me 
Tor  thy  sustenance.  I  heard  thee  call  me  thy  '  dear  mother,' 
as  thou  madest  thy  first  essays  at  articulate  language.  I 
beheld  thy  opening  talents  and  virtues,  as  they  appeared  to 
be  then,  and  interpreted  them  into  signs  of  future  excellence 
-  and  had  I  not  a  right  to  hope  for  much  at  thy  hands — and 
wilt  thou  disappoint  it  all,  and  thus  reward  thy  mother's 
care  .-'  Shall  hopes  so  early  awakened — so  fondly  cherished 
— so  long  sustained — so  justly  founded — that  rose  so  high, 
and  anticipated  so  much,  be  all  doomed,  by  thy  misconduct, 
to  disappointment?     0,  my  son,  my  son." 

And  then  your  father  too — think  of  him  :  that  kind  good 
man,  who  when  he  first  took  you  in  his  arms,  felt  the  new 
and  strange  emotions  of  that  rapturous  moment  all  kindle 
into  hope  :  as  he  looked  upon  your  face  and  for  the  first  time 
cried,  "  My  child."  How  did  that  hope  grow  with  your 
growth,  and  strengthen  with  your  strength  ;  rising  higher  and 
sinking  deeper  at  every  advanced  stage  of  your  life.  His 
hope  of  your  future  excellence  was  his  prospective  reward  for 
all  the  labor  he  sustained  to  support,  to  educate,  and  pro- 
vide for  you.     Often  as  he  wiped  away  the  sweat  of  his  brov- 


300  THE    YOUNG    MAN-S  FRIESD. 

amidst  the  heat  and  burden  of  the  day,  and  began  to  think 
his  labors  almost  too  severe — his  hope  of  thy  future  good 
conduct  checked  the  rising  feeling  of  hardship,  and  com- 
pelled him  to  say,  "  It  is  for  my  wife  and  children  and  it  is 
my  hope  that  they  by  their  affection  and  general  good  con- 
duct will  one  day  make  me  as  thankful  that  I  endure  all 
this  for  them,  as  their  mother  already  does." 

Young  men,  have  you  generosity,  gratitude,  nobleness  of 
soul  ?  If  so,  let  me  ask  you,  what  do  such  ties,  such  bene- 
fits, such  feelings,  and  such  conduct  deserve  at  your  hands  ? 
Can  you  be  insensible  to  such  an  appeal  ?  One  should 
imagine  it  would  be  your  study  and  delight  to  acknowledge 
and  discharge,  in  the  most  effectual  and  satisfactory  manner* 
obligations  which  you  were  contracting  before  you  had  the 
ability  to  understand  and  appreciate  them  ;  and  which  from 
that  time  to  the  present  have  never  ceased  to  accumulate. 
Above  all  beings  on  earth  your  parents  have  the  largest 
claims  upon  your  consideration,  and  though  there  are  higher 
motives  to  the  cultivation  of  all  moral  excellence,  than  even 
a  regard  to  their  happiness,  yet  this  ought  never  to  be  left 
out  of  view,  and  never  will  be  by  any  generous,  dutiful,  and 
affectionate  son 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  IMPRESSED  WITH  THE  IMPORT 
ANCE  OF  THE  AGE  IN  WHICH  HE  LIVES. 


"  And  of  the  children  of  Issachar  which  were  men  that  had  under- 
standing of  the  times,  to  know  what  Israel  ought  to  do." 

1  Chronicles  xii.  32. 
"  Can  ye  not  discern  the  signs  of  the  times  ?" 

Matthkw  xvi.  3. 

In  the  first  of  these  passages,  the  Israelites  who  were  of 
the  tribe  of  Issachar,  in  the  time  of  David,  received  a  high 
encomium  for  understanding  the  times,  and  their  know- 
ing what  it  became  the  inhabitants  of  the  kingdom  to  do. 
They  were  thoughtful,  intelligent  men,  who  studied  and  who 
understood  the  signs  of  the  times  ;  were  well  versed  in  public 
affairs  ;  knew  the  character  of  the  age  that  was  passing  over 
them,  and  what  was  best  to  be  done  in  all  the  exigences  of 
human  life  ;  and  perceived  that  it  was  the  duty  and  the  in- 
terest of  Israel  to  advance  David  to  the  throne. 

In  the  second  passage,  our  Lord  reproves  the  Pharisees 
for  their  not  being  able  to  discern  the  signs  of  their  times. 
The  signs  of  the  times  are  the  character  and  aspect  of  the 
passing  age.  Every  age  has  its  characteristic  signs  impressed 
upon  it  by  the  hand  of  God.  To  discern  these  is  to  mark 
and  comprehend  them.     Such  attention  and  discri^Jiination 


302  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

are  our  duty,  the  neglect  of  which  subjects  us  to  the  rebuke 
of  Christ. 

Among  many  kinds  of  extremes  to  be  avoided,  there  are 
two  which  are  suggested  by  the  subject  of  the  present  dis- 
course— I  mean  a  predominance  of  individuality  of  feeling 
on  the  one  hand,  and  of  catholicity  on  the  other  ;  or  put  in 
other  words,  of  too  selfish  a  regard  to  our  own  personal 
affairs,  or  a  too  absorbing  interest  in  the  concerns  of  others. 
There  may  be  some  persons,  though  they  are  not  many, 
whose  whole  world  is  self.  They  have  surrounded  them- 
selves by  a  very  narrow  boundary,  within  which  they  endea- 
vor to  keep  their  attention  closed  in,  and  to  occupy  them- 
selves strictly  in  their  own  business,  with  as  little  inquisi- 
tiveness  about,  or  connection  or  sympathy  with,  the  great 
world  without  as  possible.  Now  this  is  wrong,  for  as  they 
are  members  of  the  community  they  owe  it  some  duties 
which  they  cannot  rightly  discharge  without  knowing  its 
condition.  It  is  foolish,  because  their  individual  lot  is  in- 
fluenced by  the  general  one.  It  betrays  a  gross  insensibility 
not  to.  look  up  when  Providence  is  passing  by,  and  notice  its 
stately  goings.  It  prevents  their  getting  good,  as  well  as  doing 
good,  for  God  is  ever  teaching  us  lessons  by  public  events. 
It  is  very  true,  there  may  be  the  opposite  extreme  of  being 
so  occupied  by  watching  the  progressive  development  of  the 
great  drama  of  Providence,  as  to  forget  and  neglect  our  own 
individual  concerns,  and  our  immediate  duties.  We  are 
placed  in  a  very  busy  world — full  of  men  and  ivorks — of 
transactions  and  events — and  of  vast  varieties  of  human  cha- 
racter and  action.  We  witness  all  that  is  going  on  through 
the  medium  of  the  press,  ^nd  conversation,  and  observation. 
We  are  in  the  midst  of  the  throng,  and  are  moving  on  with  it. 
We  think,  talk,  debate.     Now  it  is  of  vast  importance  then, 


t 

IMPRESSED    WITH    THE    IMPOItTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       303 

to  attend  to  two  things  :  first,  not  to  let  out  attention  be  too 
much  drawn  off  from  our  private  to  public  matters  ;  and 
secondly,  to  take  care  to  let  our  notice  of  public  events  be 
carried  on  wisely,  so  as  to  turn  what  we  observe  to  profitable 
account. 

A  total  disregard  to  passing  events,  is  condemned  in  per- 
petuity by  our  Lord's  reproof  to  the  Jews  contained  in  the 
text.  But  there  are  times  when  it  is  still  more  to  be  con- 
demned. Providence  is  always  at  work,  and  it  may  be  that 
we,  after  all,  are  poor  judges  of  the  comparative  importance 
of  its  operations,  since  preparations  may  be  going  on  in  its 
secret  recesses,  of  which  the  stupendous  dispensations  that 
we  witness  are  but  the  external  manifestation.  Still  there 
can  be  no  doubt  of  the  wonderful  character  of  our  acre,  nor 
any  danger  of  our  unduly  magnifying  its  importance.  It  is 
obvious  that  the  world  is  becoming  a  far  more  active,  agita- 
ting, changing,  tumultuous  scene,  than  formerly.  Discoveries 
and  inventions  ;  intelligence  and  events ;  omens  and  alarms, 
come  upon  us  not  singly,  but  in  troops  ;  not  in  showers  and 
streams,  but  with  the  rapidity,  the  copiousness,  and  the 
force,  of  an  inundation.  In  such  an  age,  to  be  swallowed 
up  in  our  own  individual  concerns,  and  to  be  either  such 
religious  recluses,  literary  solitaires,  mercantile  devotees,  or 
domestic  exclusives,  as  to  have  no  sympathy  with  the  actors 
and  operations  of  the  age,  is  neither  rational  nor  religious, 
but  contrary  to  both. 

Let  us  then  now  First  of  all  inquire  into  the  cha- 
racteristics  OF    THE    AGE    IN    WHICH   WE    LIVE.      AllUOSt 

every  age  has  something  in  common  with  other  ages,  and 
something  peculiar  to  itself.  What  then  are  those  peculi- 
arities of  the  present  times  which  should  be  pointed  out  to 
the  inquiring  and  observant  mind  .?     If  we  speak  of  the  agr 


304  THE    i'OUA'G    MAn's    FRIEND. 

as  regards  its  iiitelleduac  character,  we  cannot  fail  to  notice  - 
an  intense  excitement  and  iuquisitireness.  The  human 
mind  was  never  so  active,  and  explorative  in  all  the  regions 
of  thought  as  now.  The  discoveries  of  science  are  wonder- 
ful, and  as  may  be  rationally  expected,  the  inventions  of  art 
are  proportionate.  These  two  must  ever  move  together, 
being  reciprocally  helpful  to  each  other.  What  sui-prising 
disclosures  of  the  secrets  of  nature  are  going  on  under  the 
scrutinizing  researches  of  experimental  philosophy.  Men 
seem  to  feel  as  if  there  were  no  limits  to  rational  inquiry, 
and  as  if  there  was  nothing  knowable  which  they  would  not, 
and  could  not  know ;  as  if  nothing  would  satisfy  them  till 
they  had  reached  the  farthest  boundary  of  knowledge.  How 
rapidly  and  how  widely  is  the  circle  of  universal  knowledge 
expanding.  We  are  grown  so  familiar  with  the  wonders  of 
the  human  intellect  which  have  been  of  late  years  achieved, 
that  we  now  do  not  think  anything  too  wonderful  for  man  to 
attempt  or  expect.  Hence  the  magnificent,  but  somewhat 
presumptuous  title  of  his  last  publication  by  Humboldt, 
"  Cosmos,"  "  THE  WORLD  ;"  as  if  he  had  laid  open  all  the 
globe  to  our  knowledge,  and  not  only  our  planet,  but  the 
great  universe  itself  with  all  it  comprehends. 

If  we  regard  the  age  in  its  social  aspect,  we  see  the  same 
proof  of  its  extraordinary  character.  "  The  pervading, 
connecting  principle  of  community^  throughout  mankind  as 
one  immense  body,  has  become  much  more  alive.  It  is  now 
much  more  verified  to  be  one  body,  however  extended,  by 
the  quicker,  stronger  sensations  which  pervade  the  rest  of  it, 
from  what  affects  any  particular  part."  Intercourse  is  so 
facilitated,  quickened,  and  extended,  that  men  begin  to  feel 
less  and  less  the  interposing  geographical  and  political 
barriers  which  sepai-ated  them  from  each  other,  and  are  ap- 


IMPRESSED    WITH    THE    IMrORTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       S05 

proximating  to  a  universal  neighborhood.  Then,  great 
social  principles  are  also  in  operation  which  are  breaking 
down  national  prejudices  and  antipathies.  The  evils  of  war 
are  being  denounced  in  loud  and  emphatic  term,  and  schemes 
of  universal  brotherhood  are  put  forth,  which,  if  not  likely 
to  be  immediately  successful,  are  the  harbingers  of  the  ap- 
proaching reign  of  love,  and  the  shadows  which  coming 
events  cast  before  them.  The  subject  of  slavery — the  treat- 
ment of  criminals — the  foundation  of  government — the 
theory  and  practice  of  law — the  physical  condition  of  the 
people — the  Temperance  Reform — national  education — the 
principles  of  international  trade — the  grand  question  of 
civil  and  religious  liberty,  are  all  agitated  and  discussed  with 
an  inquisitiveness  and  an  eagerness  which  look  as  if  society- 
were  absolutely  aud  resolutely  bent  on  self-improvement, 
and  was  going  on  towards  a  point  immeasurably  in  advance 
of  anything  it  has  yet  reached.  Nor  should  we  forget  the 
extarordinary  impetus  that  has  been  lately  given  to  coloniza- 
tion and  emigration,  by  which  new  additions  are  being  made 
to  the  great  family  of  nations,  and  new  experiments  insti- 
tuted in  the  principles  of  human  government. 

The  'political  character  of  the  age,  especially  if  we  take 
in  the  whole  of  the  present  century,  is  almost  unparalleled 
for  the  number,  rapidity,  extent,  and  magnitude  of  its  revo- 
lutions. In  what  a  state  has  Europe  existed  during  this 
period.  Almost  every  kingdom  but  our  own  has  been  the 
seat  of  war,  and  most  of  them  the  scene  of  changes  of 
dynasty  and  government.  We  have  seen  monarchs  driven 
from  their  thrones — sceptres  broken — and  crowns  rolling  in 
the  dust.  And  though  these  great  national  earthquakes 
have  at  present  ceased,  and  there  is  a  lull  in  the  tempests 
that  have  boen  raging  ;  yet  with  four  millions  of  men  under 


806  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

arms  at  this  moment,  and  nations  jealously  watching  each 
other  ;  with  France  uneasy  and  restless  within  itself,  and 
containing  the  elements  of  mischief  fermenting  both  in  its 
capital  and  in  its  provinces,  who  can  say  how  soon  the  spaik 
may  fall  which  may  cause  another  explosion — and  depend 
upon  it  the  next  convulsion,  come  when  it  may,  will  be  more 
tremendous  than  any  that  have  preceded  it.  The  liberti(>s  of 
Europe  have  yet  to  be  established- by  the  subversion  of  many 
of  its  old  governments,  who  seem  not  disposed  to  gain  wis- 
dom by  experience.  The  nations  arc  panting  for  freedom — 
and  the  despots  are  resolved  they  shall  not  be  free — and  ere 
long  the  slaves  will  break  their  fetters  and  the  scepters  of 
their  tyrants,  in  the  same  furious  struggle  and  in  the  same 
awful  scene.  Young  men,  you  know  not  and  cannot  con- 
ceive what  you  may  be  called  to  witness.  Happily  you  live 
in  a  country  where  whatever  the  many  have  yet  to  gain  from 
the  few,  it  will  be  won  by  reason  and  not  by  force. 

The  moral  aspect  of  this  age  is  no  less  impressive  than 
either  of  the  preceding.  If  asked  to  describe  in  one  or  two 
words  this  aspect  of  the  age,  I  should  say  first  of  all,  it  is 
the  age  of  conflict.  The  struggle  always  going  on  in 
our  world  between  truth  and  error — good  and  evil — has 
assumed  a  character  of  earnestness,  not  to  say  fierceness,  as 
if  both  parties  were  preparing  for  a  last  and  decisive  battle. 
The  four  great  religious  controversies  are  becoming  more 
and  more  determined.  There  is  the  conflict  which  is  main- 
tained by  infidelity  in  all  its  forms,  including  atheism,  pan- 
theism, and  theism — against  Christianity.  That  which  is 
carried  on  between  heresy  and  orthodoxy.  That  which  in 
sustained  by  the  advocates  and  opponents  of  State-establish- 
ments of  religion.  And  that  mighty  struggle  which  is 
becoming  more  determined  every  day  between  Popery  and 


IMPRESSED  WITH  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  AGE.   807 

Protestantism.  Never,  no  never  was  the  war  of  opinions 
so  general  and  so  arduous  as  it  is  now.  To  a  contemplative 
mind  it  is  a  somewhat  awful  exercise  of  thought,  to  look  over 
this  vast  field  of  conflict,  where  such  forces  are  contending 
for  the  moral  destinies  of  the  present  and  all  future  genera- 
tions of  mankind,  and  to  watch  the  movements  of  the  armies, 
and  their  alternate  victories  and  defeats. 

Happily  there  is  also  another  feature  of  the  agt ,  which 
though  in  one  sense  it  bears  the  aspect  of  conflict  also,  is 
sufficiently  distinct  from  it  to  admit  of  separate  considera- 
tion— I  mean  the  evangelising  spirit,  now  manifested  by 
professing  Christians  of  all  denominations.  This,  though  it 
may  be  unpraised,  and  even  to  a  considerable  extent  unnoticed, 
by  "  the  children  of  this  world,"  wise  as  they  are  in  their 
generation,  is  the  grandest  and  most  hopeful  sign  of  the 
times.  If  then  asked  for  a  second  word  to  characterise  the 
moral  aspect  of  the  times,  I  reply  without  a  moment's  hesi- 
tation— BENEVOLENCE.  Ygs,  and  that  not  a  mere  senti- 
mental compassion — the  benevolence  that  can  weep  before 
the  pictures  of  imagination,  but  can  do  nothing  to  relieve 
the  miseries  of  real  life.  Nor  is  it  the  benevolence  that 
only  builds  alms-houses,  hospitals,  dispensaries  ;  which  would 
combat  with  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to — disease,  poverty, 
and  hunger — though  we  do  not  think  lightly  of  this,  nor 
is  the  age  wanting  in  it ;  but  the  benevolence  which 
characterises  this  age,  and  in  which  we  most  delight,  is  that 
which  lighted  upon  our  orb  from  heaven  in  the  person  of  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  came  to  redeem  man  from  sin — and 
death — and  hell.  That  which  lived  and  moved  and  had  its 
being  in  apostles,  when  they  went  everywhere  preaching  the 
gospel, ''  to  turn  men  from  dumb  idols  to  serve  the  living  ana 
the  true  God."    That  which  in  modern  times  is  embodied  in 


808  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

the  character  of  the  devoted  and  self-sacrificing  missionary, 
who  for  the  love  of  Christ  and  pity  for  immortal  souls,  quits 
the  comforts  of  civilized  society  to  dwell  among  savages, 
amidst  the  deserts  of  Africa  or  the  ices  of  the  polar  regions. 
That  in  short  which  aims  at  the  salvation  of  souls — the  rescue 
of  the  human  mind  from  the  chains  of  ignorance,  and  the 
emancipation  of  the  heart  from  the  bondage  of  its  lusts. 
This,  this  is  the  noblest  characteristic  of  our  age,  a  religious 
zeal  to  diffuse  the  blessings  of  the  gospel  over  the  face  of  the 
whole  earth,  more  intense,  more  active,  and  more  compre- 
hensive than  any  which  has  existed  since  the  apostle's  days. 
The  missionary  spirit,  as  manifested  in  the  various  organ- 
izations which  it  has  called  into  existence — the  numerous 
missions  it  has  established — and  the  triumphs  over  barbarism, 
idolatiy,  vice,  and  cruelty,  which  it  has  achieved — stamp 
upon  this  age  its  most  beneficent,  most  important,  and  most 
sublime  character.  Christianity  is  the  world's  best  friend. 
Apart  from  its  being  the  means  of  eternal  life  in  another 
world,  it  is  the  best  benefactor  of  man  in  all  his  relations  to 
the  present  world.  "  It  maintains  an  incessant  struggle 
against  all  that  is  selfish,  barbarous,  and  inimical  to  human 
happiness,  and  comprehends  in  itself  the  seeds  of  endless 
improvement ;  and  it  is  this  which  rising  upon  us  like  a  finer 
sun,  has  quickened  moral  vegetation,  and  replenished  our 
country  with  talents,  virtues,  and  exploits,  which  in  spite  of 
its  physical  disadvantages,  have  rendered  it  a  paradise,  the 
delight  and  wonder  of  the  world."  How  great  then,  and  how 
noble  an  enterprize  is  that  which  attempts  to  make  the 
religion  of  the  world,  and  thus  to  supplant  all  those  moral 
monstrosities  which  degrade  the  intellect,  pollute  the  heart, 
deform  the  character,  and  fill  the  life  with  misery 

Such  then,  young  men,  is  the  age  in  which  you  are  Q-Ahd 


IMPRESSED    WITH    THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       30« 

to  exist ;  and  such  the  signs,  the  omens,  and  the  portents  hy 
which  it  is  distinguished  :  and  to  which,  as  giving  the  consid- 
eration its  most  intense  force  and  importance,  may  be  added 
the  reflection,  that  your  lot  is  cast  in  a  country  that  is  placed 
by  Providence  at  the  very  centre  of  the  intellectual,  social, 
and  moral  interests  of  the  world.  It  is  something  more  than 
an  effusion  of  national  vanity,  to  affirm  that  England  beyond 
all  countries  on  the  globe,  is  at  present  the  temple  of  religion 
■ — the  hall  of  science — the  school  of  learning — the  citadel  of 
liberty — the  refuge  of  distress — the  mart  of  commerce — the 
seat  of  power — the  glory  of  history.  On  her  depend  more 
closely  than  on  any  other  nation,  the  intellectual,  social,  and 
moral  destinies  of  the  world.  The  nations  of  the  earth  and 
all  coming  ages  and  generations  have  more  to  hope  from  her, 
than  from  any  other  people  under  the  sun.  Her  decadence 
would  be  more  their  loss,  as  her  continued  glory  and  great- 
ness would  be  more  their  gain,  than  the  adversity  or  pros- 
perity of  any  other  people  on  the  face  of  the  globe.  It  is 
not  then  allowed  to  you  to  look  on  from  afar  upon  passing 
events,  without  being  permitted  to  guide  or  influence  them. 
You  are  in  the  midst  of  them,  and  can  touch  the  springs  of 
activity  which  are  in  motion  around  you.  You  are  not  only 
permitted,  but  invited  ;  and  not  only  invited,  but  commanded 
to  bear  a  part  in  all  that  is  going  forward  for  the  world's  im- 
provement ;  and  I  therefore  now, 

Secondly^  consider  the  character  of  the  men  that 
ARE  wanted  for  THE  AGE.  This  will  lead  me  to  state 
what  you  should  be.  What .?  Men  of  the  age — and/<9r  it. 
Men  worthy  of  it — that  can  avail  themselves  of  its  oppor- 
tunities for  getting  good,  and  doing  good — that  catch  its 
spirit,  and  receive  its  impress — that  can  even  do  something 
to  improve  it,  as  well  as  be  improved  by  it — that  arc  wiser 


310  THE    YOUNG    MANS    FRIEND. 

holier,  more  benevolent,  more  active,  than  their  fathers — ■ 
til  at  like  those  of  the  tribe  of  Issachar,  "  uTiderstand  th6 
times,  and  know  what  Israel  ought  to  doV 

As  the  basis  of  everything  else — of  all  the  talents  and  the 
virtues  by  which  you  can  act  most  beneficially,  I  mention,  of 
course,  -personal  religion.  Maintainfng,  as  I  do,  that  real 
religion  is  the  chief  element  in  the  world's  well-being,  aa 
well  as  in  the  happiness  of  each  individual,  I  ought  to  men- 
tion this  as  the  first  thing  essentially  necessary  in  him  who 
would  benefit  the  aoje  in  which  he  lives.  I  do  not  yield  to 
any  one  in  my  views  of  the  value  and  importance  of  the 
sciences,  literature,  and  the  arts ;  I  am  as  strenuous  an 
advocate  of  liberty  as  can  be  found  ;  but  then  I  contend  that 
these  will  never  renew  the  human  heart,  nor  restore  it  to 
peace.  It  is  religion  more  than  these  things,  or  than  all 
other  things,  that  the  nations  want  for  their  repose  and  feli- 
city ;  and  he  that  would  do  most  to  bless  his  species,  must 
seek  to  spread  the  blessings  of  Christianity.  When  I  speak 
of  religion  being  the  world's  best  friend,  I  mean  religion  as 
we  have  it  pure  in  the  Bible,  and  in  the  hearts  and  lives  of 
its  true  believers  ;  and  not  as  it  is  presented  in  the  corrupt 
organic  forms  which  it  has  assumed  in  the  creeds,  in  the 
churches,  the  constitutions,  and  the  professions  of  some  that 
call  themselves  Christians — I  mean  the  religion  of  repentance, 
truth,  holiness,  and  love  :  the  subjugation  of  the  heart  and 
life  to  the  law  of  God  :  "  the  wisdom  that  is  first  pure,  then 
peaceable  ;  full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits  ;  gentle,  and  easy  to 
be  entreated  ;  without  partiality,  and  without  hypocrisy." 
I  see  with  pleasure  the  ever  rising  and  advancing  tide  of 
knowledge  ;  but  I  am  quite  sure  it  is  not  upon  this,  but  upon 
the  stream  of  religion  that  men  must  float  into  the  haven  of 
sound  morals,  and  permanent  peace.      The  best  benefactor  of 


IMPRESSED    TVITH    THE    IMPORTANCE    OP   THE    AGE.       311 

his  race,  is  not  he  who  teaches  them  something  they  did  not 
before  know,  though  even  he  is  entitled  to  their  gratitude, 
but  he  who  delivers  them  from  the  dominion  of  their  pas- 
sions, and  the  slavery  of  their  vices.  Hence,  no  man  can 
serve  his  age  so  effectually  as  he  who  fears  God,  and  under 
the  influence  of  such  a  principle  seeks  to  benefit  his  fellow- 
creatures  by  implanting  in  their  hearts  the  principles  that 
sway  his  own.  The  worshippers  of  knowledge  award  that 
palm  to  the  philosopher,  which  is  due  to  the  Christian  phi- 
lanthropist, as  the  world's  best  friend.  Hence,  my  young 
friends,  1  tell  you  that  you  are  not  men  for  the  age,  if  you 
are  not  religious  men.  Neglect  religion,  and  you  may  become 
the  world's  bane  and  curse  by  your  vices.  Possess  this,  and 
you  not  only  promote  its  moral  interests,  which  are  its  high- 
est ones,  but  you  give  also  the  best  guarantee,  yea,  and  use 
the  best  means  too,  of  serving  the  age  in  every  other  way. 

It  becomes  you  to  be  observant — thoughtful — reflective  : 
for  who  in  such  an  age  as  this  can  be  in  harmony  with  the 
times  without  such  a  disposition  .''  Rise  above  the  folly  of 
those  young  men  whose  frivolous  spirits,  taken  up  with  the 
levities,  trifles,  and  petty  impertinencies  of  little  minds,  seem 
incapable  of  serious  reflection  ;  men  who  would  wonder  what 
strange,  mysterious  power  was  operating  upon  them,  if  at 
any  time  they  found  themselves  in  pensive  mood,  and  in  ever 
so  slight  a  manner,  moralising  on  passing  events ;  men  who 
seem  to  think  they  are  born  to  talk,  and  smoke,  and  laugh, 
rather  than  to  think.  Despise  such  men.  From  these  gay 
and  thoughtless  triflers,  society  has  nothing  to  expect.  They 
may  have  thoir  brief  day  of  sunshine  and  pleasure  :  they  will 
then  die,  vanish,  and  be  forgotten,  as  though  they  had  never 
been.  Belong,  my  young  friends,  to  the  class  so  character- 
ifitically  described  as  "  thoughtful  men  ;" — men  who  know- 
14 


312  THE    YOU-VJt    MANS    FRIEND. 

ing  they  were  made  for  thought  and  reflsction,  fix  their  eyes 
on  the  current  of  events,  to  see  which  way  they  are  flowing  ; 
— who  not  only  make  them sel  res  acquainted  with  the  surface 
of  things,  but  who  look  beneath,  and  endeavor  philosophi- 
cally to  trace  events  backward  to  their  causes,  and  forward 
to  their  consequences  ; — who  not  only  exercise  their  curiosity 
to  know  what  is  taking  place,  but  their  reason  in  judging  of 
tendencies  and  influencies  ; — wh  'ead  the  histories  of  past 
times,  as  well  as  the  records  of  the  present  age,  to  form 
opinions  founded  upon  examination,  comparison,  and  legiti- 
mate deduction.  Endeavor  to  discern  the  connexion  of 
events,  and  their  influence  upon  the  great  interests  of  socia^ 
happiness,  liberty,  and  religion.  And  v3Specially  let  the  spec 
ulative  contemplation  of  human  life  and  passing  events  ha 
combined  with  the  practical.  Let  observation  constantly 
turn  into  reflection,  and  reflection  into  action.  Let  your 
thoughtfulness  be  something  more  than  musing.  Be  not  likf 
one  who  watches  the  swelling  tide  in  a  dreamy  mood,  an(? 
sees  it  rise  and  fall  as  a  mere  object  of  curiosity  ;  but  be  as 
one  who  is  waiting  for  it  to  reach  a  certain  elevation,  when 
he  shall  throw  in  a  net  or  embark  in  a  boat.  Stand  amidst 
passing  events,  asking  the  question  "  What  does  all  thir 
mean  generally,  and  what  does  it  require  of  me  to  do  ? 
What  practical  teaching  is  there  in  all  this  ?  What  must  J 
rise  from  this  scene  to  perform  ?  For  myself  ?  For  society  ? 
For  the  Church  of  God  ?  What  is  it  that  Providence,  by 
what  is  DOW  passing  before  me,  calls  me  forth  to  attempt  ?" 
I  do  Bot  by  all  this  mean  to  impose  upon  you  a  premature 
gravity,  an  unnatural  solemnity  and  taciturnity.  I  do  not 
mean  to  depress  the  buoyancy,  and  check  the  sprightlincsi 
of  youth,  to  stiffen  the  manners  into  a  repulsive  formality^ 
and    to    transform   the  modest,    humble  youth,   into   "  Sir 


IMPRESSED    WITH    THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       313 

Oracle.  '  Nothing  of  the  sort,  but  I  still  entreat  young 
men  to  be  sober-minded. 

Here  asjain  I  brino;  in  mental  cultivation  and  robustness 
of  intellect,  as  of  great  importance.  Throughout  the  wholo 
of  these  sermons  I  have  insisted  much  on  this,  being  well 
assured  that  though  religion  is  the  fii'st  thing,  as  an  object 
of  human  pursuit,  it  is  not  everything  ;  and  that  other  things 
being  equal,  he  is  likely  to  be  the  most  useful  and  happy 
man,  who  is  the  best  educated  one.  I  say  to  you  most 
emphatically,  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  Grod  and  his 
righteousness,"  but  I  then  add,  Seek  next  a  vrell-informed, 
well- cultivated  mind.  In  an  age  like  the  present,  s»  culti- 
vated, so  enlightened,  no  man  can  make  way  in  the  world, 
so  as  to  gain  respect,  influence  others,  and  do  good,  who  has 
not  some  power  of  character,  and  some  store  of  intellectual 
wealth.  Character  does  something  I  know,  even  where  the 
jewel  is  not  set  in  the  gold  of  brilliant  knowledge  :  but  how 
much  more  when  it  is.  He  who  is  ambitious  to  be  useful — 
and  it  is  a  noble  ambition  wherever  it  exists,  and  which 
ought  to  exist  in  all — must  not  neglect  to  improve  his  mind. 
Who  in  such  an  age  as  this  will  hearken  to  the  talk  of  igno- 
ranee,  or  bow  to  the  puerilities  of  weakness,  or  revere  even 
holy  excellence  if  it  be  associated  with  imbecility  }  One  of 
the  characteristics  of  the  age  is,  as  we  have  considered,  an 
active  benevolence ;  and  another,  a  diffusion  of  knowledge. 
Many  have  fallen  in  with  the  former,  without  being  careful 
to  fall  in  with  the  other,  and  thus  have  failed  in  doing  al] 
the  good  they  wished. 

I  now  recommend  the  adoption  of  certain  great  principles, 
which  ought  ever  to  be  present  with  you  when  looking 
abroad  upon  the  course  of  events  and  the  general  history  of 


314  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

mankind  ;  and  which  every  one  who  can  discern  the  signs  of 
the  times  will  assiduously  cherish. 

Recognise^  in  the  current  of  human  affairs,  the  scheme  and 
operations  of  an  all-wise^  all-controlling  Providence.  Behold 
in  all  events  the  permissions  or  the  appointments  of  God 
Kenounce  not  only  the  atheist's  creed,  but  his  mode  of  think- 
ing and  speaking  of  passing  events.  The  transactions  and 
affairs  of  the  times,  though  brought  to  pass  by  a  vast  multi- 
tude of  free  and  accountable  agents,  fulfil  God's  counsel  and 
contribute  to  the  perfecting  of  his  plan.  Be  the  signs  of  the 
times,  therefore,  what  they  may,  they  are  such  as  he  has 
stamped  upon  them,  and  are  significant  of  something  pertaining 
to  him  and  his  purpose.  Believe,  which  you  o^tainly  may  and 
ought,  that  Grod  is  in  all  history.  In  looking  over  the  land- 
scape of  history,  as  well  as  that  of  nature,  realise  the  thought 
that  all  you  are  looking  upon  is  the  result  of  mind — of  infi- 
nitely wise  and  benevolent  design.  This  gives  additional 
interest  and  grandeur  to  the  scene.  There  is  no  beauty — 
no  interest — no  pleasure — in  the  idea  of  chance.  It  is  not 
only  an  irreligious,  an  unphilosophical,  but  it  is  also  an 
unpoetical  thing — a  repulsive  negation — a  sterile,  hideous 
conception.  On  the  contrary,  how  delightful  is  it  to  look 
upon  the  revolutions  of  empire — the  discoveries  of  science — 
the  inventions  of  art — the  conflict  of  systems — the  progress 
of  society — and  realize  in  all  these,  the  operations  of  an 
ever-present,  omniscient  intellect:  and  thus  to  feel  our- 
selves in  the  great  workshop  or  laboratory  of  the  all-wise, 
all-good,  all-powerful  Artificer — and  surrounded  with  the 
glorious,  though  as  yet  unfinished,  productions  of  his  con- 
sum  mate'skill. 

Another  great  principle  to  take  with  us  to  the   events  of 
the  age,  is  the  superior  excellence  ana  importance  of  mvral 


IMPRESSED    WITH    THE     IMPORTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       315 

truth  over  that  which  relates  to  the  material  world :  in  other 
words,  the  superiority  of  religion  and  virtue  to  the  well-being 
of  man,  over  science,  literature,  and  the  arts.  All  truth  is 
important ;  but  all  truth  is  not  equally  important.  Man's 
moral  nature  is  above  his  intellectual.  His  intellectual  is 
for  the  moral,  rather  than  the  moral  for  the  intellectual ;  and 
as  the  intellectual  is  for  the  moral,  so  the  moral  is  for  the 
eternal.  We  have  glanced  at  this  I  believe,  in  a  former 
sermon  ;  we  renew  it  here  for  its  importance.  It  is,  as  we 
have  already  said,  as  a  moral  agent  that  man  is  furthest 
removed  from  the  brutes  that  perish,  and  approximates 
nearest  to  God.  The  lower  animals  have  glimpses  of  reason 
but  they  have  no  susceptibility  of  moral  ideas.  Piety  and 
virtue  are  loftier  qualities  of  character  in  themselves,  and 
far  more  productive  of  happiness,  than  merely  intellectual 
acquisitions — they  alone  fit  the  soul  for  communion  with 
God  now,  and  for  his  presence  hereafter  in  heaven.  The 
extension  of  knowledge  alone,  even  though  every  barbarian 
in  existence  were  made  a  philosopher,  would  fail,  without 
religion  and  morals  to  make  men  happy — but  moral  qualities 
will  make  man  happy  in  any  state  of  society,  in  any  condi- 
tion of  life.  The  Greenlander  amidst  the  polar  ices  and 
long  nights  of  Arctic  regions — the  Red  Indian  amidst  his 
boundless  prairies  and  interminable  forests — the  Hottentot 
amidst  the  vast  African  deserts — or  the  Negro  subjected  to 
the  yoke  of  slavery,  may  by  the  external  blessings  of  the 
gospel,  and  the  internal  graces  of  a  holy  mind,  be  happy. 

In  the  present  age,  one  would  imagine  from  much  that  is 
said  and  done,  that  knowledge  were  the  bread  of  life  for  the 
soul  hungering  after  bliss,  which  would  satisfy  every  desire— 
the  panacea  for  diseased  humanity  which  would  heal  every 
wound — the  crown  of  glory  upon  our  nature — the  chief  feli- 


31C 

city  of  our  present  existence — and  all  we  need  for  our  happi- 
ness in  another  world.  It  is  however  a  profound  mistake,  a 
lamentable  and  fatal  error,  and  it  is  a  mistake  in  which  nearly 
the  whole  world  is  involved.  Education,  apart  from  religion, 
is,  it  seems,  to  do  everything  for  man.  Ideas,  ideas,  ideas, 
are  all  that  is  needed  to  renew,  reform,  and  bless  the  human 
race.  Let  but  the  species  be  admitted  to  the  tree  of  know- 
ledge, and  they  will  find  nothing  but  good  to  be  the  result. 
It  is  the  darkness  of  the  intellect  only,  that  is  the  cause  of 
the  depravity  of  the  heart ;  and  only  let  in  the  light  of  science, 
and  it  will  set  all  right.  Such  is  the  deplorable  error  of  the 
moral  quacks  of  the  age,  whose  nostrum  for  the  cure  of  all 
diseases  is  knowledge.  Deluded  men  !  They  would  rectify 
society  without  religion,  and  govern  it  without  God.  Have 
they  forgotten  all  history,  especially  that  of  Greece  and 
Rome  ^  Have  they  ever  read  what  the  apostles  says,  "  For 
after  that  in  the  wisdom  of  God  the  world  by  wisdom 
KNEW  not  god,  it  pleased  God  by  the  foolishness  of 
'preaching  to  save  them  that  believe. '''^  1  Cor.  i.  21.  It  is 
something  for  his  moral  nature  man  needs  for  his  happiness ; 
and  you  may  as  well  offer  science  to  a  man  whose  limbs  are 
dislocated  or  whose  flesh  is  corroding  by  disease,  to  give  him 
health  and  enjoyment,  as  to  an  unholy  soul,  when  you  offer 
it  nothing  else,  to  give  it  holiness,  ease,  and  contentment. 

While  then  you  concede  to  knowledge  all  that  is  contended 
for  on  its  behalf,  short  of  its  being  the  supreme  good,  and 
the  supreme  means  of  good  ;  and  while  you  go  on  seeking  it 
for  yourself,  and  diffusing  it  to  others,  ever  remember  that 
religious  and  moral  truth  is  infinitely  more  important  than 
science  and  the  arts  ;  and  give  your  most  zealous  interest  to 
those  institutions  which  promote  it.  You  see  on  every  hana 
restlessness  and  dissatisfaction.     Amidst  the  advances  of  so- 


IMPRESSED    WITH    THE    ^utlPjUTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       3l7 

ciety  in  all  that  can  exaV  and  dignify  man  as  an  intellectual 
being, — amidst  the  teeming  wonders  which  his  still  noble  in- 
tellect is  producing, — amidst  the  homage  he  is  ever  receiving 
from  his  fellows  and  from  himself,  he  is  still  as  far  from  hap- 
piness as  ever,  and  still  lifting  up  the  anxious  inquiry,  ''  Whe 
will  show  me  any  good  ?^^  The  nations  of  the  earth,  not- 
withstanding their  marvellous  advancement  in  physical  know- 
ledge and  refinement,  are  still  as  ignorant  of  the  nature,  and 
as  short  of  the  attainment  of  true  bliss  as  ever.  Yes,  and 
ever  must  be,  as  long  as  general  truth  is  set  above  that  which 
is  divinely  r'evealed  in  the  Word  of  Grod,  and  as  long  as  the 
seat  of  happiness  is  supposed  to  be  the  intellect  rather  than 
the  heart.  Young  men,  be  it  your  felicity  to  discover  what  it 
is  that  man  needs  to  make  him  happy,  and  then  to  join  those 
who  are  laboring  to  diffuse  the  excellency  of  the  knowledge 
of  Christ,  which  by  renovating  the  moral  nature,  roots  out 
all  that  can  degrade  and  disturb  ;  and  plants  all  those  seeds 
of  piety  and  virtue,  which  can  elevate,  adorn,  and  bless. 

As  another  principle,  which  will  guide  you  in  your  views, 
conduct,  and  relations  in  this  important  age,  let  it  be  your 
conviction  that  all  social  changes  are  subservient  to  the 
kingdom  of  Christ.  In  all  difficult  problems,  and  compli- 
cated schemes,  it  is  a  vast  advantage  to  be  furnished  with  a 
key  to  unlock  the  whole.  Now  this  advantage  we  possess  in 
the  knowledge  furnished  by  the  Bible,  concerning  not  only 
the  tendency,  but  the  actual  design,  and  final  result  of  all 
events  to  promote  the  advancement  of  Christianity  on  the 
earth.  To  those  whom  I  am  addressing,  it  is  not  at  all  ne- 
cessary to  prove  that  the  universal  diffusion  of  the  Christian 
religion  in  its  purity,  would  be  a  great  blessing  to  the  human 
race.  What  curses  ar.e  Paganism,  Mohammedanism  and 
Popery  !     What  a  withering  blight  has  come    from   these 


318 

sourees  over  the  moral  interests  of  the  globe  !  What  a  juhxlee 
for  the  world  would  be  the  universal  reign  of  our  Lord  Jesus 
Christ !  How  many  evils  would  flee  before  him  ;  war,  sla- 
very, tyranny,  anarchy,  and  vice,  in  all  its  branches  !  How 
many  blessings  would  follow  in  his  train, — peace,  liberty, 
good  government,  just  laws,  universal  brotherhood  !  Now 
the  diffusion  of  Christianity  is  a  great  thing,  the  greatest  that 
can  happen  in  and  to  our  world.  Nothing  can  for  a  moment 
be  put  in  comparison  with  it :  nothing  can  be  conceived  more 
worthy  of  the  Divine  Being,  as  the  supreme  end  of  his 
government.  Hence  it  is  very  delightful  to  know  that  all 
which  is  taking  place  is  subservient  to  this  end.  How  grand 
is  the  position  of  a  true  Christian — a  believer  in  revelation — 
he  stands  upon  the  mount  of  prophecy,  and  sees  all  the 
various  operations  of  science,  literature,  art,  history,  com- 
merce, navigation,  all  widening  the  channel  and  deepening  the 
bed  of  the  "  Eiver  of  Life,"  which  is  flowing  from  the  throne 
of  God  and  the  Lamb,  for  the  salvation  of  the  world.  He 
sees  statesmen,  warriors,  travellers,  philosophers,  merchants, 
mechanicians,  engineers,  while  pursuing  their  own  separate 
objects,  and  never  dreaming  of  promoting  Christianity,  actu- 
ally carrying  on  this  great  work.  Is  it  not  an  immense 
advantage  in  looking  abroad  upon  the  millions  of  events  of 
all  kinds  that  are  ever  occurring  ;  events  which  seem  to  have 
no  connection  with  each  other,  nor  with  any  one  common 
end  and  design,  to  be  furnished  with  the  knowledge  of  a 
centre  at  -woich  all  these  lines  meet  and  convergre.  We 
are  told  tnat  Christ  is  head  over  all  things  to  his 
CHURCH.  There  is  the  secret — the  grand,  glorious,  and 
blissful  secret.  In  looking  upon  the  progress  of  science 
and  the  arts,  the  question  is  often  almost  involuntarily  askedj 
"  Where  will  it  all  end  .?     What  will  it  all  come  to  .?"     The 


IMPRESSED    WITH    THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       319 

Hible  answers  the  question  : — Tht  setting  up  in  our  world 
of  Ckrisfs  kingdom  of  truth^  holiness^  and  happiness. 
Take  this  conviction  with  you  through  life.  Look  abroad, 
upon  this  wonderful  age,  with  the  knowledge  of  this  still 
more  wonderful  and  glorious  fact ;  and  while  the  unreflecting, 
the  irreligious,  the  sceptical,  or  even  the  atheistic  philosopher 
is  revelling  in  the  discoveries  of  science,  but  stopping  there, 
do  you  go  on  to  that  nobler  cause — to  which  he  himself 
though  he  knoweth  it  not,  nor  doth  his  heart  think  so,  is  bu' 
an  unconscious  instrument,  and  all  the  sciences  are  but  hana- 
maids — the  universal  diffusion  of  religion. 

A  last  principle  I  would  request  you  to  take  up  and  apply 
to  the  age,  is  this — Social  reform  must  be  brought  about  by 
individual  regeneration.  This  principle  is  as  weighty  as  it 
is  true.  We  hear  a  great  deal  in  various  directions,  about 
the  improvement  of  society,  and  a  noble  idea  it  is,  whether 
politically  or  morally  viewed.  Social  evils  are  so  numerous, 
so  deeply  seated,  and  so  pernicious,  that  it  is  desirable  and 
important  they  should  be  removed  by  extensive  reformation. 
But  it  is  forgotten  even  by  those  who  declaim  most  loudly 
against  them,  and  call  most  earnestly  for  a  bet!  r  direction 
to  be  given  to  the  masses,  that  the  best  way,  the  only  way, 
to  improve  the  whole  is  by  seeking  the  improvement  of  each 
part.  Individual  regeneration  is  the  only  way  to  general 
reformation.  It  is  all  well  enough  to  talk  about  the  latter, 
and  to  join  in  associate  efforts  to  promote  it  ;  but  it  will  end 
in  talk,  as  long  as  there  is  no  concern  for  each  man  to  im- 
prove himself.  Public  and  conglomerate  evils  must,  I  know, 
be  publicly  and  jointly  attacked  ;  but  the  assailants  must 
begin  with  themselves,  and  come  to  the  assault  with  clean 
hands  and  pure  hearts.  It  is  of  vast  importance  to  set  out 
in  life  with  this  view  of  things.  He  is  the  best  reformer  wh« 
14* 


320  THE  YOUNG  MAn's  FRIEND. 

begins  with  the  reformation  of  himself ;  and'  no  systems  will 
be  effectual  for  public  amelioration  which  leave  out  of  con- 
sideration the  necessity  of  individual  excellence.  A  deep 
sense  of  personal  responsibility  should  lie  on  every  man's 
conscience.  Every  man  is  a  part  of  the  existing  generation, 
and  does  something  by  his  own  character  and  conduct  to 
form  the  character  of  the  age.  Each  ought  therefore  to 
ask,  What  would  I  have  the  age  to  be  ?  That  let  me  en- 
deavor to  be. 

No  man  can  rightly  appreciate  his  age  who  does  not 
cherish  Public  Spirit.  This,  at  all  times  incumbent,  is 
especially  so  in  the  present  day.  By  this  I  do  not  mean  a 
noisy,  obtrusive,  and  restless  desire  to  obtain  notoriety  by  a 
seeming  zeal  to  rectify  public  evils,  and  promote  the  public 
good — a  disposition  to  meddle  with  those  who  are  given  to 
change — a  would-be  reformer  of  abuses,  but  a  determination 
founded  upon  conscientious  conviction,  associated  with  deep 
humility,  and  modestly  expressed,  to  do  all  the  good  you  can 
and  to  leave  the  world  the  better  for  your  having  lived  in  it. 
No  man  "  liveth  to  himself  is  the  dictate  of  reason,  as 
well  as  the  command  of  revelations.  As  a  member  of  society, 
and  not  like  Alexander  Selkirk,  the  solitary  inhabitant  of  a 
desolate  island,  each  man  is  a  debtor  to  the  community  from 
which  he  receives  benefits,  and  to  which  he  owes  correspond- 
ing obligations.  Every  man  can  do  something  to  benefit 
other  men,  and  what  he  can  do  he  ought  to  do.  If  this  is 
his  duty  at  all  times,  it  is  especially  so  in  these.  Benevolenct?, 
as  we  have  already  considered,  is  one  of  the  noblest  and 
most  identifying  moral  features  of  the  age.  Never  was  so 
much  doing  for  the  well-being  of  mankind.  It  is  a  glo- 
rious thing,  and  makes  one  grateful  for  the  present,  and 
hopeful    for  the    future.     Men   are    every  where    stepping 


IMPRESSED    WITU    THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.        321 

«fut  of  the  circle  of  selfishness  into  the  broadest  circum- 
ference of  the  general  good.  It  is  an  age  of  action — of 
action  in  the  cause  of  God  and  human  happiness.  Public 
spirit  is  become  with  multitudes  a  principle,  and  with  multi- 
tudes more  a  fashion.  Selfishness  acquires  at  such  a  time 
peculiar  enormity,  whether  it  be  the  selfishness  of  avarice, 
which  will  give  no  money  for  the  public  good — of  indolence, 
which  will  give  no  labor — or  of  literary  or  scientific  taste, 
which  will  give  no  time.  Under  the  influence  of  public 
spirit  the  world  is  improving — ignorance,  vice,  and  misery 
are  yielding  to  its  influence — and  knowledge,  truth,  holiness, 
and  happiness  are  bringing  on  the  millenium.  The  religious 
institutions  of  this  age  are  its  own  glory  and  the  hope  of 
every  other  yet  to  come.  They  are  preparing  the  earth  for 
its  emancipation  from  the  thraldom  and  misery  under  which 
it  has  been  groaning  for  nearly  six  thousand  years,  and  for 
the  glorious  liberty  of  truth,  holiness,  and  happiness.  At 
such  a  time  will  you  be  torpid  at  the  centre  of  universal 
activity }  Will  you  now  refuse  to  sympathise  with  philan- 
thropist?, reformers,  and  evangelists }  Never,  no  never, 
were  the  youth  of  any  preceding  generation  called  to  such 
a  work,  so  great,  so  noble,  and  so  benevolent,  as  is  presented 
to  the  young  men  of  this  generation.  Never  had  our  youth 
such  an  opportunity  of  signalising  themselves  by  active 
benevolence,  or  disgracing  themselves  by  selfishness  and  in- 
dolence, as  those  of  the  present  day. 

"  Begin  early  then  to  cherish  a  public  spirit,  because  if 
you  do  not  possess  this  disposition  in  the  morning  of  life, 
you  probably  never  will.  This  is  a  virtue  that  rarely  springs 
up  late  in  life.  If  it  grow  and  flourish  at  all,  it  must  be 
planted  in  youth  and  be  nourished  by  the  warm  sunshine 
and  rain  of  the  spring  season  of  existence.     He  who  cares 


822  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

only  for  himself  in  youth  will  be  a  very  niggard  in  manhood, 
and  a  wretched  miser  in  old  age."* 

A  young  man  rightly  impressed  with  the  circumstances 
of  the  age  will  guard  assiduously  against  its  evils,  for  every 
age  has  its  appropriate  dangers,  and  the  present  one  forms 
no  exception  to  the  general  rule.  I  can  only  briefly  enu- 
merate these. 

He  will  check  and  restrain  an  excessive  love  of  pleasure, 
which  in  many  cases  leads  to  dissipation — in  others  unfits 
for  business — and  in  far  more  altogether  indisposes  the 
mind  for  sober  thought,  mental  culture,  and  true  religion. 
This  is  one  of  the  prominent  tendencies  of  the  day  in  which 
we  live,  and  threatens  infinite  damage  to  the  present  and 
eternal  welfare  of  mankind,  by  bringing  on  an  age  of  frivol- 
ity, sensuality,  and  practical  atheism.  Find  your  pleasure, 
young  men  in  the  improvement  of  your  mind — in  attention 
to  business — in  true  piety — and  in  active  benevolence.  Is 
there  not  scope  enough  for  enjoyment  here  .''  "  Wisdom's 
ways  are  ways  of  pleasantness  and  all  her  paths  are  peace." 

Excessive  worldliness  is  another  of  the  dano-ers  of  this  acre. 
In  a  country,  compared  with  which  Phojnicia,  Tyre,  Carthage, 
and  Corinth,  viewed  as  commercial  nations,  were  mere  ped- 
lars,— and  in  an  age,  compared  with  which  every  other  that 
preceded  it,  even  in  this  land,  was  a  time  of  stagnancy — 
there  is  most  eminent  peril  of  sinking  into  the  mere  world- 
ling, and  living  only  to  get  wealth.  Never  was  competition 
so  fierce,  and  never  the  danger  so  great  of  having  the  con- 
science benumbed — moral  principle  prostrated — the  heart 
rendered  callous,  and  even  the  intellect  rifled  of  its  strength, 
or  sharpened  only  into  cunning  and  duplicity  by  the  love  of 
money,  as  in  the  age  in  which  we  live.  Wealth  is  the  god  of 
*  Dr.  Hawes'  Lectures  to  Young  Men. 


IMPRESSED    WITH    THE    IMPORTANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       323 

Britain's  idolatry  just  now ;  and  you  without  watchfulnesss 
and  prayer,  are  in  danger  of  bowing  devoutly  at  its  shrine, 
becoming  its  worshippers,  and  immolating  your  souls  as  a 
burnt  offering  on  its  altars. 

Pride  of  intellect^  leading  to  scepticism  and  infidelity 
forms  a  most  fearful  peril  in  this  age.  "We  have  already 
spoken  of  the  conflict  which  is  now  going  on  between  the 
various  forms  of  unbelief  and  Christianity.  The  struggle  is 
eagerly  maintained  by  both  parties,  and  though  to  the  sin- 
cere believer  in  Christianity  there  is  no  doubt  how  it  will 
terminate,  yet  in  the  mean  while  there  is  great  reason  to 
fear,  from  the  boldness  and  subtlety  of  the  attacks  of  infi- 
delity, that  some,  and  even  not  a  few  victories  will  be  gained 
by  the  opponents  of  Christianity,  The  natural  bias  of  youth 
is  almost  always  to  infidelity.  And  such  is  the  case,  not 
merely  because,  as  Bacon  says,  "  a  little  philosophy  inclines 
us  to  atheism,  and  a  great  deal  of  philosophy  carries  us  back 
to  religion  ;"  but  youth  has  an  intellectual  bias  against  reli- 
gion, because  it  would  humble  the  arrogance  of  the  under- 
standing ;  and  a  moral  bias  against  it,  because  it  would  check 
the  indulgence  of  the  passions  ;  and  it  is  these  two  causes  that 
will  account  for  the  prevalence  of  infidelity  among  so  many 
young  men  of  the  present  day.  In  an  age  when  the  mind 
of  man  is  pouring  out  its  prodigies  in  such  profusion,  there 
is  imminent  peril  of  believing  it  almost  omnipotent,  omni- 
scient, and  all-sufficient,  and  of  man's  accounting  himself  his 
own  Grod,  and  feeling  as  if  he  needed  no  other.  The  ten- 
dency is  to  that  Pantheism  which  instead  of  saying  nothing 
is  God.  says  everything  is  God.  Man-worship  is  the  idolatry 
of  the  day,  as  well  as  monev-worship.  And  yet  notwith- 
standing the  prodigies  of  intellect  which  man  can  and  does 
accomplish    how   little  way  does  all   this  go  to  make   him 


324  THE  YOUNG  man's  FRIEND. 

either  holy  or  happy.  The  profoundest  philosopher  and  the 
noblest  son  of  science  as  much  need  a  revelation  from  God 
to  guide  them  in  matters  of  religion  and  morals,  as  the 
peasant  or  the  child. 

Superstition,  leading  to  formalism  in  religion,  instead  of 
the  religion  of  the  intellect,  the  heart,  the  conscience,  and 
the  life,  is  with  some,  though  not  so  much  with  you,  a  danger 
of  the  age.  Yet  though  it  is  chiefly  among  that  portion  of 
our  race  most  under  the  influence  of  passion  and  imagina- 
tion, that  superstition  gains  its  victories,  it  is  evident  from 
many  facts  that  even  the  more  masculine  minds  of  your  sex 
are  not  quite  proof  against  the  seductions  of  Popery  and  its 
cognate  systems.  And  when  we  see  over  what  mighty  intel- 
lects this  dreadful  system  has  cast  its  shade  or  thrown  its 
spell,  and  what  gifted  minds  it  has  induced  to  drink  of  the 
Circean  cup  of  its  enchantments,  we  must  not  speak  too 
strongly  on  the  probability  that  none  but  the  feeble  or  the 
imaginative  will  yield  to  its  sorceries. 

Young  men,  study  then,  seriously  consider,  and  be  duly 
impressed  with,  the  dangers  that  characterise  the  age  in  which 
you  live,  dangers  by  which  you  are  surrounded.  I  speak 
not  now  of  the  ordinary  perils  which  apply  to  every  age 
alike — the  dangers  arising  from  the  ardor  of  passion — the 
puriency  of  imagination — the  influence  of  example — the  love 
of  companionship — the  temptations  to  sensuality,  to  intem- 
perance, to  dishonesty,  to  extravagance,  which  beset  the 
young  man's  path  at  all  times  :  these  have  been  already  con- 
sidered in  previous  discourses.  But  I  now  speak  of  those 
which  appertain  to  the  age  in  which  it  is  your  lot  to  live. 
Do  not  be  ignorant,  insensible,  or  indifi'erent,  in  such  a  situ- 
ation ;  nor  treat  the  subject  with  carelessness  or  levity 
Ponder,  devoutly  ponder,  tlie  subject.     As  your  protection 


IMPRESSED  WITH  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  AGE.   325 

f^  n  these  perils — possess  yourselves  of  personal  religion. 
Tl  ^,  and  this  only,  is  your  adequate  defence.  Here  is  your 
shiiyM  and  buckler.  Watch  and  pray  that  you  enter  not  into 
temptation.  Put  your  trust  in  God.  With  his  fear  before 
your  eyes  and  his  love  reigning  in  your  hearts,  you  are  safe, 
and  will  escape  unscathed  from  all  these  perils  to  which  you 
are  constantly  exposed. 

Reflect  then  upon  your  condition.  Here  you  are  ia 
being,  existing  not  by  your  own  choice  but  by  the  appoint- 
ment of  Providence,  in  one  of  the  most  eventful  eras  that 
ever  elapsed  in  the  history  of  the  world  or  the  flight  of  time. 
For  you,  all  preceding  nations,  and  ages,  and  generations, 
with  all  their  mightiest  men,  and  all  their  greatest  disco- 
veries, events,  inventions,  and  exploits,  have  existed.  What- 
ever valor  has  won — science  explored — art  contrived — 
labor  achieved — suff"ering  produced — has  come  down  to  you. 
For  you,  heroea  have  bled  in  the  field — martyrs  sufi'ered  on 
the  scaffold  or  at  the  stake — philosophers  studied  in  the 
closet — monarchs  rei^-ned  on  the  throne — statesmen  lesjis- 
lated  in  the  senata — and  travellers  crossed  the  desert  and 
the  ocean.  All  the  light  and  experience  of  nearly  six  thou- 
sand years  concentrates  in  your  history.  You  receive  the 
full  benefit  of  the  art  of  printing — the  revival  of  letters — 
the  Reformation  of  the  sixteenth  century,  and  the  Revolu- 
tion of  the  i^eventoenth.  For  you,  the  resurrection  of 
America  from  the  tomb  of  the  Atlantic — the  establishment  of 
the  British  Empire  in  Asia  and  in  Africa — have  been  effected. 
For  you,  civil  and  religious  liberty  has  been  matured  in  its 
most  unrestricted  form.  For  you,  Bible  Societies — Mission- 
ary Societies — Tract  Scrcieties — and  all  the  otner  institutions 
of  Christian  benevolence,  have  been  established  and  made 
ready  to  your  hands      All  nations — all  ages — all  generations 


326  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FR[END. 

have  labored,  and  you  have  entered  into  their  labors.  You 
stand  surrounded  will  these  spoils  of  time — the  wealth  of 
nations,  the  achievements  of  humanity — and  the  ^ifts  of 
Providence.     And   I  now  ask,  "  What   manner   of  men 

OUGHT  YOU  TO  BE  ?" 

So  much  for  the  past  and  the  present,  and  then  the 
future.  What  a  future  !  What  a  seal  is  breaking  for  the 
next  century  !  All  men  are  fixing  an  eye  of  inquisitive 
curiosity  and  anxious  expectation  upon  the  unfolding  of  the 
scroll  which  contains  the  history  of  the  next  century.  What 
may  we  not  expect  from  and  for  humanity  within  that 
period  !  What  may  not  be  hoped  for  from  science,  the  arts, 
learning,  and  religion  ?  All,  all  under  God  depends  upon 
you  and  your  class.  Into  your  hands,  as  the  next  generation 
that  is  to  be,  must  come  the  destinies  of  futurity.  You,  and 
others  of  your  age,  must  cause  the  wheels  of  the  world's  des- 
tiny to  roll  backward  or  forward.  You,  you,  are  to  deter- 
mine the  character  of  the  next  age,  for  you  are  to  form  it. 
Look  over  the  world's  intellectual  and  moral  condition, 
its  civilization  and  evangelization — look  over  the  civil  and 
religious  interests  of  your  country,  its  government,  its  laws, 
its  liberties,  its  institutions, — look  over  the  state  and  extent 
of  the  Church  of  Christ,  the  world's  illuminator  and  regene- 
rator, and  recollect  that  all  these  destinies  are  soon  to  be  in 
your  hands.  You  cannot  escape  from  this  trust  and  the 
responsibility  which  it  involves.  Providence  has  fixed  it 
upon  you,  and  you  cannot  throw  it  ofi".  For  the  manner  in 
which  you  sustain  these  interests  you  are  held  accountable 
not  only  to  futurity,  but  at  the  bar  of  God.  "  You  must 
exist  ;  you  must  exist  in  the  midst  of  society,  burdened  with 
the  weighty  responsibility  that  grows  out  of  the  relations  you 
sustain  to  the  living  beings  around  you,  and  to  the  generations 


IMPRtlSSED    WITH    THE    IMPC\ITANCE    OF    THE    AGE.       327 

that  are  coming  after  you  ;  and  you  must  take  the  eternal 
consequences  of  living  and  acting  in  these  deeply  interesting 
circumstances." 

Young  men,  is  there  nothing  here  that  deserves  and 
demands  reflection  ?  Perhaps  you  have  never  thought  of 
this  as  you  should.  You  have  never  seriously  considered 
the  obligations  imposed  by  the  peculiar  features  of  the 
age.  You  have  never  revolved  the  fact  that  the  value, 
importance,  and  accountability,  of  human  life  are  to  be 
measured  not  by  a  fixed,  but  a  variable  scale,  and  that 
they  rise  and  fall  according  to  circumstances.  In  innumer- 
able cases,  one  man  now  can  do  in  the  common  arts  and 
manufactures,  what  ten  or  twenty  men  could  not  do  a 
century  ago  ;  and  this  is  as  true  in  regard  to  the  operations 
of  benevolence,  as  it  is  to  those  of  trade — and  thus  the  value 
of  existence,  and  the  importance  of  individual  existence,  are 
far  greater  than  they  once  were.  A  man  is  a  man  at  all 
times,  but  he  is  more  of  a  man  as  regards  power  and  achieve- 
ment at  one  time  than  another.  In  such  a  day  as  this,  then, 
not  only  as  related  to  the  past  but  to  the  future,  I  again  ask, 
and  with  all  possible  emphasis.  What  manner  of  men  ought 
you  to  he  !  I  want  you  to  be  worthy  of  what  the  past  has 
done  for  you — of  what  the  present  confers  upon  you — and  of 
what  the  future  will  demand  from  you.  I  am  solicitous  that 
you  should  not  prove  ungrateful  to  the  one,  or  unfaithful  to 
the  other.  I  tremble  lest  the  current  of  improvement  which 
has  flowed  so  strongly  to  you,  should  flow  languidly  from 
you.  I  press  again  and  again  that  question.  What  manner 
of  men  ought  you  to  he  ?  Yes — and  I  add  to  this  question 
the  apostle's  words — "  in  all  manner  of  holy  conversation 
and  godliness  V  For  this,  and  only  this,  can  prepare  and  fit 
you  to  become  blessings,  in  the  highest  sense  of  the  term,  to 


328  THE    YOUNG    man's    FRIEND. 

the  age  in  which  you  live  or  to  those  which  follow.  It  is  this 
you  need  for  yourselves  above  all  arts  and  sciences.  Religion 
has  done  more  to  exalt  human  nature — and  does  exalt  it  more 
wherever  it  is  possesse-d — than  all  other  subjects  combined. 
It  is  the  noblest  element  of  mental  and  moral  growth,  both 
in  heaven  and  earth.  Indeed  no  man  can  he  truly  great, 
unless  his  mind  is  enlarged  and  his  heart  purified  by  its 
sacred  power.  This  was  the  grace  and  glory  of  our  first  father 
when  he  came  glowing  in  moral  beauty  from  the  hand  of  his 
Creator.  It  gave  elevation  and  grandeur  of  soul  to  prophets 
and  apostles;  sacred  heroism  to  martyrs  ;  and  in  modern  days 
it  placed  high  in  the  scale  of  being  such  men  as  Newton,  and 
Milton,  and  Boyle,  and  Locke,  and  Pascal.  And  while  it  is 
your  own  highest  dignity,  and  richest  happiness,  it  will  prove 
your  mightiest  instrument  of  power,  for  the  well-being  of 
others.  That  which  makes  you  Christians,  is  that  which 
would  make  you  philanthropists.  Do  you  wish  to  benefit 
and  bless  the  world  in  the  most  extensive  and  most  lasting 
manner,  aim  at  its  subjugation  to  the  power  of  religion. 
The  world  is  to  be  converted  to  Christ,  the  beauties  of  holi- 
ness are  to  cover  every  region,  and  the  song  of  salvation  is 
to  float  on  every  breeze.  It  is  not  science  that  is  to  hush  the 
deepest  groans  of  creation,  nor  the  arts  that  are  to  wipe 
away  the  bitterest  tears  of  humanity  :  this  is  reserved  for 
religion.  Many  a  humble  follower  of  the  Lamb  that  shall  pace 
the  walks  of  the  Crystal  Palace,  and  survey  with  but  partial 
knowledge  of  its  teeming  wonders  and  indescribable  beauties, 
shall  do  more  to  bless  his  species  in  the  way  of  direct 
moral  and  religious  benefit  than  many  of  the  mighty  artificers 
whose  productions  attract  the  eyes  and  excite  the  admiration 
of  gazing  millions.  One  human  soul  comprehends  a  value 
compared  with  which  the  unrivalled  glories  of  that  wonderful 


IMPRESSED  WITH  THE  IMPORTANCE  OF  THE  AGE.   329 

collection  are  but  a  thing  of  nought :  the  loss  of  one  such 
soul  would  be  an  infinitely  greater  calamity  than  the  de- 
struction of  that  whole  building  and  all  its  contents  by  fire  : 
while  its  salvation  would  be  to  him  who  obtains  it  a  greater 
treasure  than  his  possession  of  all  that  wealth  of  nations — 
and  to  him  who  achieves  it  a  greater  honor  in  the  world  of 
spirits  than  to  have  contrived  the  palace  and  to  have  crowded 
it  with  its  matchless  and  innumerable  wonders.  What  a 
motive  to  seek  our  own  salvation  first  of  all,  and  then  to 
comply  with  our  high  and  noble  calling  to  seek  the  salvation 
of  our  fellow-men.  Rise,  my  young  friends,  to  your  high, 
your  holy,  and  your  beneficent  calling — live  for  the  present 
age,  and  send  forward  an  influence  through  all  future  ages. 
Live  for  glory ^  honor ^  and  immortality^  and  let  nothing 
satisfy   you    either  foi    yourulf  or    others — but    whM    is 

ETERNAL. 


THE  YOUNG  MAN  DYING  EARLY,  OR  LIVING  TO 
REVIEW  LIFE  IN  OLD  AGE. 


*'  One  dieth  in  his  full  strength,  being  wholly  at  ease,  and  quiet." 

Job  xxi.  22. 

"  Now  when  he  came  nigh  unto  the  gate  of  the  city,  behold,  there 
was  a  dead  man  carried  out,  the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  was 
a  widow." — LvKE  vii.  12. 

"  We  spend  our  years  as  a  tale  that  is  told.  The  days  of  our  years 
are  threescore  years  and  ten  :  and  if  by  reason  of  strength  they  be  four- 
score years,  yet  is  their  strength  labor  and  sorrow :  for  it  is  soon  cut 
off,  and  we  fly  away." — Psalm  xc.  10. 

You  remember,  perhaps,  the  incident  that  is  recorded  of 
Xerxes,  the  Persian  monarch — that  when  reviewing  the 
mighty  host,  numbering  more  than  two  millions  of  men, 
with  which  he  was  then  invading  Greece,  he  burst  into  tears, 
upon  the  reflection  that  within  far  less  than  a  century  not 
an  individual  of  all  those  teeming  multitudes  would  be  alive. 
Pity  he  had  not  thought  how  many  myriads  of  them  his  mad 
ambition  was  hurrying  to  the  grave  by  the  devastations  of 
war.  With  like  pensive,  but  more  practical  feelings,  let  us 
look  over   the  population   of  our  globe,  and  consider   that 


DYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  331 

according  to  the  average  term  of  human  life,  nearly  a  thou- 
sand millions  of  immortal  beings  pass  from  our  world  to 
their  eternal  doom  every  thirty  years.  What  a  conqueror 
is  death  !  What  an  evil  is  sin  that  is  the  cause  of  this  mor- 
tality !  What  a  world  is  that  beyond  the  grave,  where  all 
these  countless  millions  re-assemble  !  And  what  a  being  is 
God,  who  is  the  Author  of  their  separate  existence,  pursues 
each  one  through  his  whole  individual  history,  and  will  not 
suffer  one  to  be  left  forgotten  in  the  grave,  nor  overlooked  in 
*.he  judgment,  nor  left  without  his  just  and  appropriate  doom 
'n  the  retributions  of  eternity  !  Are  you  in  want  of  subjects 
for  reflection  and  useful  moralising,  what  themes  are  these  ! 
Man  is  born  to  die  :  death  is  ever  doing  its  work  :  and  the 
Mde  of  mortality  is  ever  setting  in  upon  the  shore  of  eternity, 
'■^earing  with  it  all  that  belong  to  the  human  species.  In 
booking  at  the  race  of  Adam  only  in  this  aspect  of  it — in 
'jeeing  one  generation  follow  another  to  the  grave  in  end- 
less succession,  like  the  various  vegetable  and  animal 
bribes, — we  are  ready  to  ask  the  question  of  the  Psalmist, 
''  Wherefore  hast  thou  made  all  m.en  in  vain  ?"  And  truly 
'sf  there  were  no  other  state  of  existence  than  this,  there 
would  be  reason  in  the  inquiry,  for  apart  from  immortality, 
■ife  is  a  dream,  and  man  a  shadow.  Comparing  the  noble- 
ness of  his  faculties,  with  the  shortness  and  uncertainty  of 
ais  life,  and  the  vanity  of  his  pursuits,  he  would,  if  this  world 
9nly  were  the  sphere  of  existence,  seem  to  be  a  reflectioQ 
upon  the  wisdom  of  his  Creator,  who  had  invested  him  with 
the  powers  of  an  angel,  and  the  yearnings  after  immortality, 
merely  to  mind  earthly  things.  But  with  the  eternal  world 
thrown  open  to  our  view,  and  its  state  of  rewards  and  punish- 
ments disclosed  to  our  faith,  how  momentous  are  that  term 
and  condition  of  existence  which  are  granted  us  as  a  discipline 


332  THE  rouNG  man's  friend. 

and  probation  for  immortality.  With  far  other  feelings 
than  those  of  contempt  or  complaint,  we  now  echo  the 
inquiry,  "  What  is  your  lifeV  Death  is  an  agent  that 
works  by  no  rule  or  order  with  which  we  are  acquainted  ; 
sometimes  passing  by  the  aged  to  take  the  young :  leaving 
the  sickly  to  seize  upon  the  healthy  :  removing  the  useful 
and  sparing  the  worthless. 

This  brings  me  to  the  subject  of  our  evening's  discourse, 
The  Young  Man  dying  early,  or  living  to  review  life 
in  old  age. 

I.  Let  us  consider  the  first  alternative.  Yes  :  the  young 
man  may  die  early.  The  fact  recorded  in  the  text  is  often 
repeated.  It  is  in  the  order  of  nature  for  the  aged  to  die, 
and  for  the  young  to  live  :  but  this  order  is  not  always 
observed.  More  deviations  from  it  take  place  in  the  human 
race  than  in  any  other  tribe  of  creatures.  How  few  of  the 
young  of  the  inferior  animal  die,  compared  with  those  of 
the  human  race.  Life  seems  to  be  precarious  in  proportion 
to  its  value.  What  multitudes  of  young  people  die  annually 
in  this  country  of  consumption,  that  bane  of  English  youth. 
It  is  to  me  somewhat  mournful  to  recollect  how  many  beau- 
tiful flowers  I  have  seen  thus  cut  down  in  spring.  I  have 
followed  to  the  grave  during  my  ministry,  young  persons  in 
suflficient  numbers,  had  they  all  still  lived,  to  form  a  congre- 
gation of  no  inconsiderable  size.  What  has  been,  still  is, 
and  ever  will  be — I  mean,  the  mortality  of  youth. 

There  is  always  something  affecting  in  the  death  of  a 
young  man.  In  some  cases  it  realizes  the  scene  described 
by  the  evangelist  in  the  text,  "  Now  when  he  came  nigh  to 
the  gate  of  the  city,  behold  there  was  a  dead  man  carried 
out,  the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  was  a  widow." 
Her   only  comfort  is  removed,  and  the  last  light  of  her 


DYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  333 

tabernacle  is  put  out — her  solitary  tie  to  life  is  cut,  and 
she  feels  left  alone  upon  a  bleak  and  desolate  shore.  In 
other  cases  it  is  the  son  of  wealthy  parents  whose  brightest 
prospects  hung  suspended  upon  that  one  precious  life,  the 
termination  of  which  causes  their,  to  repeat  in  sorrow,  not 
perhaps  unmixed  with  complaint,  the  words  of  Job,  "  He 
destrojeth  the  hope  of  man."  In  other  instances  it  is  the 
death  of  a  youth  of  great  promise  ;  he  had  finished  his  edu- 
cation, served  his  apprenticeship,  and  with  talents  that  excited 
the  liveliest  hopes  of  success,  and  with  virtues  that  had 
already  ensured  admiration,  was  just  about  to  step  upon  the 
stage  of  active  life.  He  had  formed,  perhaps,  a  connection 
of  chaste  and  tender  love  with  one  that  was  worthy  of  him, 
and  with  whom  he  expected  soon  to  share  the  cup  of  connu- 
bial happiness  •,  and  then,  when  all  was  smiling  around  him, 
and  he  was  returning  so  joyously  its  smiles,  he  is  smitten 
down  by  death.  Oh,  to  see  that  noble  flower,  when  nearly 
full-blown,  droop  its  head  upon  its  stalk,  wither,  and  die. 
How  many  tears  are  shed,  how  many  hopes  are  disappointed, 
how  many  sorrowful  voices  exclaim,  "  What  would  he  not 
have  been  had  he  lived  .^"  When  the  aged  man,  who  has 
lived  out  his  term,  expires,  we  are  not  surprised  ;  we  expected 
it,  and  were  prepared  for  it.  But  for  the  young  to  die,  for 
whom  no  fears  nor  dread  anticipations  were  cherished  !  It 
comes  upon  us  not  only  with  grief,  but  with  astonishment. 

Now  I  will  put  a  double  supposition  : — 

First.  That  of  the  young  man  who  dies  a  true  Chris- 
tian. He  has  remembered  his  Creator  in  the  days  of  his 
youth,  repented  of  sin,  believed  in  Christ,  lived  in  the  fear 
of  Grod.  He  has  not  forgotten  nor  neglected  religion.  This 
was  his  mode  of  life,  when  death  came  upon  him.  The  king 
of  terrors  pays  no  more    respect  to  piety  than  to  talent. 


334  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

Many  a  briojht  blossom  of  the  church  as  well  as  of  the  world 
is  nipped  off  by  his  relentless  hand.  The  Christian  youth 
has  been  often  removed,  as  well  as  the  irreligious  one.  In 
such  a  case,  when  he  found  he  must  die,  he  felt  serious, 
solemn,  and  at  first  somewhat  sorrowful,  on  looking  round 
on  all  he  was  parting  from — on  seeing  the  mists  of  the  dark 
valley  rising  over  the  landscape  which  he  had  been  accus- 
tomed to  survey  with  so  much  delight ;  and  witnessing  all 
his  prospects  suddenly  fading  before  his  eyes.  But  when 
his  faith  came  to  his  relief,  bringing  with  it  the  "  everlasting 
consolation"  of  the  gospel,  and  "a  good  hope  through 
grace,  a  hope  full  of  immortality,"  he  recovered  his  tranquil- 
lity, and  in  the  prospect  of  that  glory,  honor,  and  eternal 
life,  to  which  he  believed  he  was  going,  he  could  then 
serenely  look 

"  Oil  all  he's  leaving,  now  no  longer  his." 

We  are  ready  to  say,  what  hopes  are  buried  in  his  tomb — 
his  own,  his  parents',  his  friends',  and  his  country's  expecta- 
tions. He  was  permitted  to  see  and  even  to  touch  many 
things  that  were  attractive  and  alluring,  but  to  grasp  nothing. 
He  was  conducted  to  an  eminence  whence  he  could  survey  a 
beautiful  prospect  as  his  seemingly  destined  possession,  and 
then  closed  his  eyes  in  death.  He  had  but  a  fragment  of 
existence,  and  what  made  it  all  the  more  mournful  is  that  the 
fragment  indicated  how  precious  the  whole  would  have  been, 
had  it  been  spared.     Did  he  not  live  in  vain  ? 

No,  he  did  noi  live  in  vain.  He  answered  the  highest 
end  of  existence,  as  certainly  as  if  he  had  lived  out  the  three- 
score years  and  ten,  or  four  score  years  of  man's  existence — 
as  if  he  had  entered  upon  business  and  succeeded  in  obtaining 
wealth — as  if  he  had  married  and  had  raised  a  numerous  and 


DYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  335 

respectable  family — as  if  he  had  obtained  rank,  station,  and 
influence  in  society,  or  renown.  For  what  w  the  highest  end 
of  human  life  ?  The  salvation  of  the  immortal  soul, — a  pre- 
paration and  a  portion  for  eternity,  a  meetness  for  heaven. 
As  in  a  former  discourse  T  have  shown,  man's  chief  end  is  to 
glorify  God  and  enjoy  him  for  ever.  Now,  the  truly  pious 
person  has  accom'plished  this  end — has  secured  this  object 
as  completely,  though  he  die  at  the  age  of  twenty,  as  if  he 
had  lived  to  that  of  seventy.  He  says  on  his  death-bed, 
"  True,  there  are  some  things  I  could  have  wished  to  live 
for,  and  I  feel  that  in  not  being  permitted  to  remain  and 
accomplish  them,  I  am  giving  up  some  of  the  secondary  and 
inferior  ends  of  exist«nce — but  I  have  fulfilled  the  one  great 
end  of  life.  I  have  obtained  the  one  thing  needful,  even  the 
salvation  of  my  soul.  I  have  accomplished  the  loftiest  and 
most  benevolent  purpose  of  God  in  sending  me  upon  earth. 
I  have  not  lived  in  vain.  He  who  is  made  for  immortality, 
and  has  everlasting  ages  of  pure  delight  before  him,  need 
not  regret  the  loss  of  a  few  years  of  pleasure  mixed  with 
pain.  I  am  upon  the  threshold  of  eternity,  and  have  at- 
tended to  that  which  will  prepare  me  for  an  eternity  of  bliss. 
I  am  disappointed  in  the  hope  of  some  little  things,  but  I 
am  not  disappointed  in  the  pursuit  of  far  greater  ones,  and 
in  the  sublime  fruition  of  the  latter  I  shall  soon  forget  the 
momentary  pains  of  the  former.  I  am  parting  from  friends 
dear  as  life,  but  I  am  going  to  others  still  dearer.  I  am 
turning  away  from  bright  prospects,  but  infinitely  brighter 
ones  are  opening  upon  my  view.  I  am  going  away  early 
from  earth,  but  am  going  as  early  to  heaven  ;  and  my  dura- 
tion in  the  former  is  shortened  only  that  my  duration  in  the 
latter  might  be  extended.  The  connections  whom  I  am 
leaving  pity  me  for  my  early  death  ;  the  angels  in  Paradise 
15 


336  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

congratulating  me  on  so  soon  quitting  a  vale  of  tears,  and  so 
early  retiring  from  all  the  trials,  temptations,  and  dangers, 
of  this  scene  of  conflict.  I  am  now  within  sight  of  glory, 
and  am  all  but  absolutely  certain  of  being  safely  brought  to 
it.  Who  can  tell  but  I  am  taken  home  to  escape  perils 
which  might  have  been  too  great  for  my  strength.  I  there- 
fore die  without  murmuring,  and  depart  with  cheerful  sub- 
mission, though  I  die  in  youth,  since  it  is  to  be  with  Christ 
which  is  far  better." 

Happy  youth  !  Yes,  happy,  to  have  thy  warfare  thus 
early  and  successfully  accomplished — to  win  the  victory  at 
the  very  commencement  of  the  battle  !  So  soon  to  gain  and 
wear  the  crown.* 

*  I  will  give  an  illustration  of  this  by  a  scene,  part  of  wmch  I 
witnessed  myself.  A  few  Sabbaths  since,  after  the  morning  service,  I 
was  requested  to  visit  a  gentlenaan  then  alarmingly  ill,  at  one  of  our 
inns,  on  his  way  to  Scotland.  It  is  not  my  custom,  for  want  of  strength, 
to  visit  the  sick  on  Sabbath-days,  but  this  case  was  urgent,  and  I  went 
to  the  hotel.  I  w^as  introduced  to  the  sick-chamber  of  a  remarkably 
fine  young  man,  of  considerable  worldly  respectability,  who  was  at- 
tended by  two  anxious  sisters  and  a  brother.  They  were  bearing  him 
home  with  many  apprehensions  that  he  would  die  on  the  road.  My 
visit  was  one  of  solemn  and  mournful  delight,  for  I  found  him  a  real 
Christian,  expecting  death  hourly,  but  expecting  it  in  the  most  serene 
and  hopeful  frame  of  mind,  as  his  kind  deliverer  from  the  burden  of 
the  flesh.  Since  then  I  received  from  one  of  his  sorrowing  sisters  the 
following  account  of  his  peaceful  dismissal : 

"  *  *  #  He  suflfered  greatly  the  last  three  weeks,  but  was  en- 
abled to  bear  all  with  much  patience,  feeling  it  came  from  the  hand  ot 
a  loving  Father.  His  growth  in  grace  was  very  rapid  ;  he  seemed  to 
enjoy  largely  the  teaching  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  The  Lord  was  most 
gracious  in  the  support  and  comfort  he  vouchsafed  to  him.  He  often 
seemed  lost  in  adoring  wonder,  contemplating  the  amazing  love  of  God 
in  Christ  Jesu.s.  Although  he  had  much  to  make  life  to  be  enjoyed, 
he  left  earth  without  regret;  indeed.he  said  he  would  not  like  to  re- 


DriXG    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIRW    LIFE.  337 

Secondly.  But  I  must  now  turn  to  a  class  of  young  per- 
sons the  reverse  of  all  this  :  I  mean  those  who  die  in  youth, 
but  die  without  religion.  Alas,  alas,  what  an  idea !  How 
sad,  how  mournful,  how  awful  is  this  !  To  die  without  reli- 
gion !  To  go  out  of  the  world  without  comfort  in  death  and 
without  hope  beyond  it !  And  usually  they  who  live  with- 
out religion,  die  without  it.  Death-bed  repentances  are  in 
most  cases  little  to  be  thought  of,  and  less  to  be  depended 
upon.  True  repentance  is  never  too  late,  but  late  repent- 
ance is  rarely  true.  Religion  is  not  like  the  act  of  a  man 
who  in  a  shipwreck  is  cast  into  the  sea,  and  there  in  the 
greatest  alarm,  as  a  matter  of  necessity,  lays  hold  of  and 
grasps  a  plank  as  a  means  of  saving  himself  from  being 
drowned.  But  on  the  contrary,  it  resembles  the  conduct  of 
one,  who  deliberately  and  by  choice  steps  on  board  a  vessel 
or  a  boat,  to  convey  him  on  some  painful  or  pleasurable 
voyage.  And,  therefore,  they  who  live  without  religion,  I 
repeat,  generally  die  without  it. 

Everything  renders  the  dearth  of  a  young  man  who  dies 
without  religion  peculiarly  melancholy.  He  has  no  comfort 
in  death  ;  on  the  contrary,  he  has  most  melancholy  reflec- 
tions. Comfort  in  death  can  come  only  from  religion.  The 
pretiifying  process  of  a  stoical  philosophy,  or  of  a  hardening 
infidelity,  may,  and  sometimes  does,  so  turn  a  man's  heart 
into  stone  that  he  may  acquire  a  stupid  insensibility  even  in 
d  ath  ;   but   actual  comfort  can   come   only  from  religion. 

turn  again  to  the  world,  except  from  one  desire,  that  he  might  be 
honored  in  doing  something  for  the  Saviour.  When  in  much  suffering, 
some  hours  before  his  death,  it  was  said  to  him,  '•  Soon  will  this  be 
ended,  and  then,  happy,  happy  spirit ;"  he  faintiy  replied,  "Happy  even 
now."  Amongst  his  last  words  were,  "  Peace,  peace."  * 
Are  you  preparod.  if  called  to  die  in  youth,  To  die  thus  happy? 


338  THE  YOUNG  MAm's  FRIEND. 

It  is  the  hope  of  immortality  alone  which  can  be  as  a  lamp 
in  the  dark  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  and  the  man  with- 
out this  passes  through  the  gloomy  region  either  in  pertur- 
bation and  mental  agony,  or  in  sullen  indiJerence. 

In  this  case,  there  are  also  the  vexation,  disappointment, 
and  distress,  at  giving  up  life  so  early.  A  feeling  of  mortifi- 
cation springs  up  in  his  heart,  akin  to  that,  though  infinitely 
more  dreadful,  of  a  person  who  is  reluctantly  called  away  at 
the  commencement,  from  the  midst  of  a  most  pleasurable 
scene,  which  he  intensely  wishes  to  see  completed,  while 
numbers  are  left  behind  still  to  enjoy  it  long  after  his  depar- 
ture. For  awhile  he  resists  and  resents  the  thought  of 
dying.  He  clings  to  life  with  a  tenacity  which  looks  as  if 
he  could  not,  would  not,  dare  not,  die.  He  sends  for  his 
companions,  who  endeavor  to  cheer  him,  and  persuade  him 
he  shall  yet  do  well,  and  he  talks  with  them  of  plans  of 
future  enjoyment,  when  he  shall  recover.  Disease,  however, 
progresses,  and  extinguishes  these  hopes ;  and  at  last  comes, 
first  the  dreadful  fear,  and  then  the  still  more  dreadful  cer- 
tainty, that  he  cannot  live.  Thoughts  such  as  these  are  in 
his  mind,  although  he  may  be  afraid  to  give  utterance  to 
them  in  language,  "  It  is  really  a  very  hard  case  to  die  so 
young.  Before  I  have  scarcely  tried  what  life  is,  to  be  thus 
hurried  out  of  it !  To  have  ties  so  tender,  and  only  just 
formed,  severed.  To  see  all  my  hopes  so  soon,  and  so  sud- 
denly cut  off,  and  all  my  prospects  shut  up.  To  have  the  cup 
of  pleasure  dashed  from  my  lips,  just  as  I  had  begun  to  sip  it, 
and  before  I  had  taken  one  full  draught  !  To  see  others  of 
my  own  age  in  full  health,  pursuing  their  schemes,  and  likely 
to  live  and  prosper,  while  I  am  dying  and  going  down  to  the 
grave.  How  cruel  is  inexorable  fate.  How  I  almost  wish  I 
had  never  been  born,  for  what  has  this  short  life  proved  to 


OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  339 

me,  but  a  disappointment  ?  Mj  existence  has  been  rather  a 
shadow  than  a  substance — a  mockery,  rather  than  a  realiza- 
tion, of  hope.  I  have  lived  only  for  this  world,  which  I  am 
now  leaving  for  ever,  and  have  made  no  provision  nor  pre- 
paration for  that  on  which  I  am  about  to  enter.  I  have 
neglected  my  soul  and  have  forgotten  God.  I  am  wrecked 
at  the  commencement  of  the  voyage  of  life,  and  shall  perish 
with  all  that  belongs  to  me,  both  as  a  mortal  and  immortal 
creature."  How  distressing  to  meet  death  in  such  a  frame  i 
as  this ;  so  cold,  so  hopeless,  so  comfortless  and  cheerless ! 

A  young  man  dying  without  religion  is,  according  to  his 
own  views  and  reflections,  cut  off,  without  having  seen,  known, 
or  enjoyed  much  of  life.  He  has  not  had  his  share  of  life's 
business,  enjoyments,  and  possessions.  His  views  of  his 
case  are  quite  correct.  He  is  withdrawn  from  the  gay  circle, 
and  the  scenes  of  business,  as  soon  as  he  entered  them.  And 
as  he  has  lived  without  religion,  and  secured  the  possession 
of  nothing  else,  he  has  lived  in  vain.  His  case  is  the  very 
opposite  of  that  which  we  have  considered  in  the  former  part 
of  this  discourse.  He  has  not  sought  the  one  great  end  of 
existence — the  salvation  of  the  immortal  soul — and  all  the 
secondary  and  inferior  ends  are  failing  him.  The  supreme 
objects  of  being  which  Grod  proposed  to  him,  he  turned  away 
from,  and  those  inferior  ones,  which  he  proposed  to  himself, 
are  turning  away  from  him.  He  lived  only  for  this  world, 
and  the  deity  to  which  he  consecrated  his  life  has  left  him 
almost  immediately  after  the  surrender.  He  has  had  no 
time  to  gain  worldly  wealth  or  distinction,  and  has  wilfully  put 
away  from  him^  the  opportunity  which  he  certainly  once 
possessed  to  ky  up  treasures  in  heaven  ;  and  there  he  now 
lies,  with  all  his  hopes  of  earth  and  time  a  wreck,  and  no 
hope  of  heaven  and  immortality  rising  up  in  their  place. 


540  THE  YOUWG  man's  FRIEND. 

Follow  him  on  to  eternity.  No  compensation  is  found 
there  for  what  he  has  lost  here.  It  is  not  in  his  case  as  it 
is  in  that  of  the  religious  young  man,  whose  early  death  is 
so  much  taken  from  earth  to  be  added  to  heaven  ;  for  ht  has 
not  sought  heaven,  and  has  no  portion  there.  He  has  lost 
the  possession  and  enjoyment  of  both  worlds  at  once  ;  his 
few  fleeting  pleasures  on  earth  are  not  followed  with  the  ful- 
ness of  joy  which  is  at  Grod's  right  hand,  and  the  pleasures 
that  are  for  evermore  in  his  presence.  He  has  been  suddenly 
hurried  away  from  the  springs  of  earthly  delight,  and  no 
fountain  in  heaven,  nor  "  river  of  water  of  life,  clear  as  crys- 
tal, proceeding  from  the  throne  of  God  and  the  Lamb," 
comes  in  to  supply  their  place.  Earth  rolls  from  beneath 
his  feet,  and  heaven  stoops  not  to  sustain  and  receive  his 
sinking  spirit.  He  rises  not  at  once  to  glory  as  does  the 
young  departing  Christian,  exulting  as  he  looks  on  the  fading 
scenes  of  terrestrial  beauty,  and  exclaiming,  "  I  have  lost 
nothing."  It  is  his  on  the  contrary,  as  he  resigns  his  spirit, 
mournfully  to  confess,  "  I  have  lost  everything.  I  am  early 
driven  out  of  earth,  and  the  portals  of  heaven  open  not  to 
receive  me." 

Nor  is  this  all ;  for  the  death  of  an  irreligious  young  man 
reaches  the  climax  of  its  distress  and  misery  in  the  consi- 
deration that  his  early  removal  is  so  much  time  taken  from 
the  occupations,  possessions,  and  pleasures  of  earth,  to  be 
added  to  the  bitter  pains  of  eternal  death,  the  inconceivable 
torments  of  the  bottomless  pit.  To  the  religious  man  who 
dies  in  youth,  whatever  he  may  part  from,  still  death  is  gain. 
He  gains  infinitely  more  than  he  can  lose ;  but  the  in-eligious 
young  man  not  only  loses  all  he  had,  and  all  he  hoped  for 
on  earth,  but  gains  nothing  in  return  but  the  loss  of  his 
Boul's  salvation  with  it,  and  has  in  his  miserable  condition  the 


DYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  3'il 

Bgonj  of  contrasting  what  he  left  on  earth  with  what  he  has 
gained  in  the  dark  world  of  hell.  He  will  not  have  the  poor^ 
wretched,  meagre  satisfaction,  if  such  it  can  be  called,  of  re- 
flecting that  on  his  way  to  perdition,  he  had  his  fill  of  earthly 
pleasure  and  business ;  and  like  the  rich  man,  lived  long  and 
fared  sumptuously  every  day,  before  he  descended  to  that 
place  of  torment.  On  the  contrary,  he  will  have  through 
eternity  to  reflect  that  he  received  nothing  in  exchange  for 
his  soul  but  the  vices  and  follies  of  youth,  and  sacrificed  his 
immortal  interests  for  the  pleasures  of  sin  confined,  as  in  his 
case  they  were,  to  the  brief  season  of  his  short  life.  0,  how 
mean,  how  insignificant,  a  price  this,  for  which  to  barter 
away  immortal  bliss !  How  far  below  the  folly  and  impiety 
of  that  profane  man  who  sold  his  birthright  for  one  morsel 
of  meat. 

These  things,  Young  Men,  are  submitted  for  your  most 
serious  consideration.  Presume  not  upon  long  life.  Mil- 
lions die  in  youth  every  year.  How  know  you  that  you  will 
not  be  included  in  the  millions  of  this  year  }  You  are  in 
robust  health.  What  says  the  patriarch  Job  }  "  One  dieth 
in  hu  full  strength^  Accident  may  crush  you  in  a  mo- 
ment. Fever  may  seize  you,  and  after  a  few  days'  delirium, 
during  which  no  place  may  be  found  for  repentance,  may 
send  you  to  the  bar  of  God.  Or  the  seeds  of  consumption 
may  already  be  sown  and  germinating  in  your  frame.  Death 
may  have  selected  you  for  his  victim — the  arrow  may  bo 
fitted  to  the  string — the  aim  taken — and  the  shaft  about  to 
fly  to  its  mark.  Should  you  die  as  you  now  are,  will  yours 
be  the  death  of  the  religious  or  the  irreligious  young  man  .'* 
Which  }     Let  that  question  sink  deeply  into  your  heart. 

H.  Still  it  must  be  conceded  to  you  that  you  may  live  ta 
old  age  ;  and  we  will  now  take  up  the  other  alternative,  and 


342  THE    YOUNG   MAN's    FRIEND. 

suppose  that  this  privilege,  if  privilege  it  may  be  called,  will 
be  granted  you.  It  shall  be  imagined  that  by  the  ordina- 
tions of  Providence  you  will  number  threescore  years  and 
ten,  or  fourscore  years.  You  will  then  have  to  review 
LIFE.  Memory  will  naturally  revert  to  the  past.  Who 
arrives  at  the  top  of  a  hill  without  turning  to  look  back  } 
Who  ends  a  long  journey  without  reconsidering  its  incidents  ? 
And  who  comes  to  old  age  without  some  thoughts  of  the 
years  that  have  elapsed,  and  the  scenes  that  have  inter- 
vened between  infancy  and  senility  }  Memory  cannot  be 
inoperative,  unless  indeed  it  has  altogether  perished  amidst 
the  wreck  of  the  faculties  which  old  age  sometimes  produces. 
It  will  look  back — it  must.  What  kind  of  an  old  age  would 
you  like  to  have  .''  How,  and  with  what  reflection  and  remini- 
scences, would  you  wish  to  spend  the  close  of  life  ?  Would 
you  have  it  bright  and  serene,  with  pleasant  and  peaceful 
recollections,  and  calm  as  summer  evenings  be  ?  Or  cloudy, 
dark,  and  stormy,  by  a  painful  retrospect,  and  a  troubled 
conscience.^  I  am  aware  that  there  are  some  persons  so 
little  given  to  reflection  ;  others  so  stupified  by  the  paralysing 
influence  of  old  age  ;  and  some  so  fully  occupied  to  the  last 
with  the  pursuits  and  cares  of  this  world,  as  to  go  out  of  life, 
even  at  its  most  advanced  period,  without  serious  considera- 
tion of  either  the  past  or  the  future.  But  what  a  melancholy 
spectacle  is  an  unreflecting  old  man — a  human  being  coming 
to  the  close  of  a  long  earthly  existence,  and  yet  not  looking 
back  with  the  question,  "  How  have  I  lived,  and  what  have 
I  done  with  all  those  years  which  my  Creator  has  given  to 
me  !"  These  cases,  however,  one  would  hope,  are  compara* 
tively  few. 

The  retrospect  of  life  is  in  every  view  of  it  a  solemn  affair  ; 
indeed,  the  most  solemn  this  side  the  nccount  to  be  rendered 


DTTNG    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  343 

at  the  judgment-day.  Each  portion  of  existence  as  it  passes, 
every  year,  month,  week,  day,  demands  a  restrospective 
survey,  with  the  question,  "  How  has  it  been  spent  ?"  How 
much  more  a  whole  life  ?  Man  has  but  one  life  on  earth, 
and  that  one  can  never  be  recalled,  whatever  mistakes  may 
have  been  made.  Oh,  what  momentous  interests  are  bound 
up  in  that  one  life — and  then  it  must  all  be  accounted  for  to 
God !  What  an  impressive  spectacle  is  that  of  an  old  man 
spending  the  evening  of  life  in  turning  over  the  leaves  of  his 
history,  as  they  have  been  written  on  his  memory,  and  read- 
ing those  records  which  are  to  be  the  ground  of  his  condem- 
nation or  acquittal  at  the  bar  of  God  ;  before  which  he  must 
soon  take  his  stand.  How  solemn  a  position  is  it  to  be 
placed  where  childhood,  youth,  manhood,  and  old  age,  with 
all  their  good  or  evil,  will  pass  before,  not  only  the  memory, 
but  the  judgment  and  the  conscience,  in  a  series  of  dissolving 
views. 

Oh,  how  much  is  comprehended  in  the  term  of  only  one 
man's  lengthened  existence  !  How  many,  and  what  various, 
and  what  momentous  things,  scenes,  and  events,  pass  before 
the  mind  of  the  aged,  in  the  review  of  earth's  pilgrimage. 
There  is  time,  with  all  its  scores  of  years,  it  hundreds  of 
months,  its  thousands  of  weeks,  its  myriads  of  days,  to  say 
nothing  of  its  minutes  and  moments.  There  is  the  end  and 
'purpose  for  which  the  whole  was  granted.  There  are  all  the 
means  of  grace  and  the  opportunities  of  salvation  which  have 
been  granted  him  ;  the  Bible,  with  all  its  doctrines  and  du- 
ties, promises  and  precepts,  invitations  and  threatenings  ; 
the  thousands  of  Sabbaths,  and  sermons,  and  sacramental 
secsous  ;  the  instructions  of  parents,  the  counsels  of  friends, 
the  ministrations  of  the  pastor,  and  the  k  oks  cf  the  author  ; 
15* 


344  THE    YOUNG    MAn's  FRIEND. 

the  strivings  of  God's  Spirit,  and  the  remonstrances  of  con- 
science. There  are  all  the  opportunities  of  doing  good  and 
getting  good  neglected  or  improved  :  all  he  has  done,  and 
all  he  has  not,  which  he  might  have  done.  There  are  the 
sins  or  virtues  of  childhood,  youth,  manhood,  and  old  age. 
There  is  his  conduct  as  a  tradesman  in  getting  money,  whe- 
ther by  good  or  bad  means.  There  is  the  manner  in  which 
the  relations  of  life  have  been  discharged,  and  the  behavio! 
of  the  son,  the  brother,  the  husband,  the  father,  the  master, 
or  the  servant.  There  is  the  use  that  has  been  made  of 
prosperity  or  adversity.  There  is  his  kindness  or  cruelty  to 
others.  There  is  the  manner  in  which  he  has  disappointed 
or  realized  the  expectations  that  were  formed  concerning 
him.  There  is  the  recollection  of  the  temptations  he  has 
thrown  in  the  way  of  others,  or  that  he  may  have  been 
exposed  to  himself,  and  which  he  has  resisted  or  complied 
with.  What  a  landscape  to  look  over — what  a  road  to  turn 
back  upon — what  a  scene  to  survey — what  a  history  to  be 
read !  How  much  of  all  this  is  crowded  into  threescore 
years  and  ten  !  What  an  employment  is  the  review  of  life  ! 
To  spend  the  long  evening  of  old  age  in  conference  with  our 
conscience  over  our  past  existence  of  probation,  and  our  future 
state  of  retribution  !  What  a  life  that  ought  to  be,  needs 
be — how  upright,  holy,  and  useful — which  is  thus  to  rise  up  be- 
fore us  in  old  age,  and  which  must  according  to  its  character, 
be  a  source  of  comforting  or  tormenting  recollections.  Oh,  lo 
see  the  unrepented,  unforgiven  sins  of  threescore  years  and 
ten  occupying  the  lengthened  space,  and  to  hear  voices 
from  witfein  and  from  without,  saying,  "  You  have  lost  your 
life — your  soul — your  Grod — your  all  !" 

In    that   situation    there    will    be  many  things  that  will 


DYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  i   45 

appear  to  all  alike.  All  will  be  impressed  with  the  brevity 
of  life.  All  will  echo  the  language  of  the  apostle,  "  What  is 
our  life  ?  It  is  even  as  a  vapor  that  appeareth  but  a  little 
while,  and  straightway  vanisheth  away."  All  will  lookback 
upon  a  chequered  scene  of  light  and  shade,  though  some 
have  had  more  light,  and  some  more  shade  than  others.  All 
will  have  proved  more  or  less  the  uncertain  and  unsatisfying 
nature  of  what  is  earthly,  though  some  have  made  better  use 
than  others  of  their  knowledge.  But  still  there  is  a  strange 
and  melancholy  diflference  of  character  and  of  feelino-  with 
which  the  impressive  survey  of  life  is  made. 

Consider  the  infidel  reviewing  life  :  if  indeed  there  be 
a  man  who  can  persist  in  his  creed  of  negations  till  he  has 
reached  threescore  years  and  ten.  What  has  he  to  look 
back  upon  ^  He  has  cut  himself  off  from  the  prospect  of 
immortality,  and  reduced  himself  to  the  idea  of  a  mere 
ephemera,  which  having  fluttered  through  his  brief  day,  is 
about  to  sink  into  the  darkness  and  the  sleep  of  eternal  nif^-ht 
— in  short,  into  nothing.  Behind  him  in  the  past  is  mere 
animalism  :  before  him  in  the  future  is  annihilation.  He  • 
has  lived  without  faith,  and  is  dying  without  hope.  He 
would  have  no  God,  and  he  will  now  have  no  heaven.  Life 
with  him  has  been  spent,  0  what  a  vocation  !  in  persuading 
himself,  and  endeavoring  to  persuade  others,  that  man  is 
only  a  rational  brute.  He  has  worn  out  a  long  term  of  years 
in  hostility  against  the  Bible,  and  in  enmity  to  religion.  He 
has  ever  been  at  war  with  that  which  others  have  counted 
their  richest  honor  and  their  dearest  bliss.  His  business, 
delight,  and  endeayor,  have  been  to  oppose  the  Bible,  to 
dash  the  cup  of  consolation  from  the  lips  of  the  mourner — 
to  rob  the  widow  of  her  last  possession — to  take  from  youth 


346  THE    YOUNG    MAN  S    FRIEND. 

its  safest  guide,  and  from  age  its  strongest  prop.  Hunn»iie 
and  beneficent  purpose  !  Admitting  his  infidelity  were  true, 
it  had  been  infinitely  better  it  had  been  false.  Miserable 
man,  to  have  grown  grey  in  attempting  to  put  out  the  light 
of  the  moral  sun,  and  to  die  after  all  in  despair  of  accom- 
plishing the  object ;  and  to  die,  not  without  occasional  and 
horrible  fears,  and  still  more  horrible  forebodings,  that  he 
has  been  fighting  against  God.  May  this  dreadful  retrospect 
never  be  yours  ! 

Now  contemplate  the  aged  man  of  pleasure.  And 
here  the  picture  shall  be  drawn  from  life,  and  shall  be  no 
imaginary  portrait. "*"  You  shall  hear  the  testimony  of  one, 
*'  by  whom  the  world  with  its  fashions  and  its  follies,  its  princi- 
ples and  its  practices,  has  been  proposed  in  form  to  English- 
men, as  the  proper  object  of  their  attention  and  devotion. 
Lord  Chesterfield  has  avowed  as  much  with  respect  to  him- 
self, and  by  his  writings  said  in  efiect  to  it, '  Save  me,  for  thou 
art  my  God.'  He  has  tendered  his  assistance  to  act  as  priest 
upon  the  occasion,  and  conduct  the  ceremonial.  At  the 
close  of  life,  however,  his  God  he  found  was  about  to  forsake 
him,  and  therefore  was  forsaken  by  him. — You  shall  hear 
some  of  his  last  sentiments  and  expressions,  which  have  not 
been  hitherto,  so  far  as  I  know,  duly  noticed  and  applied  to 
their  use  ;  that  of  furnishing  an  antidote,  and  they  do  furnish 
a  very  powerful  one,  to  the  noxious  positions  contained  in 
his  volumes.  They  are  well  worthy  your  strictest  atten- 
tion. '  I  have  seen,'  said  this  man  of  the  world,  '  the  silly 
rounds  of  business  and  pleasure,  and  have  done  with  them 
all.     I  have  enjoyed  all  the  pleasures  of  the  world,  and  con- 

*  This  has  been  given  in  one  of  my  other  works,  but  it  is  so  appro- 
priate and  so  striking,  that  I  introduce  it  again  here. 


DYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  34? 

sequently  known  their  futility,  and  do  not  regret  their  loss.  I 
appraise  them  at  their  real  value,  which  is  in  truth  very  low 
whereas  those  who  have  not  experienced  always  overrate 
them.  They  only  see  their  gay  outside,  and  are  dazzled  with 
their  glare  :  but  I  have  been  behind  the  scenes.  I  have  seen 
all  the  coarse  puUies  and  dirty  ropes  which  exhibit  and  move 
the  gaudy  machines :  and  I  have  seen  and  smelt  the  tallow 
candles,  which  illuminate  the  whole  decoration  to  the  astonish- 
ment and  admiration  of  an  ignorant  audience.  When  I  reflect 
back  upon  what  I  have  seen,  what  I  have  heard,  and  what  I 
have  done,  I  can  hardly  persuade  myself  that  all  that  frivolous 
hurry,  and  bustle,  and  pleasure  of  the  world  had  any  reality  ; 
but  I  look  upon  all  that  has  passed  as  one  of  those  romantic 
dreams  which  opium  commonly  occasions  ;  and  I  by  no 
means  desire  to  repeat  the  nauseous  dose  for  the  sake  of  the 
fugitive  dream.  Shall  I  tell  you  that  I  bear  this  melancholy 
situation  with  that  meritorious  constancy  and  resignation 
which  most  people  boast  of.?  No,  for  I  really  cannot  help 
it.  I  bear  it  because  I  must  bear  it,  whether  I  will  or  no. 
I  think  of  nothing  but  killing  time  the  best  way  I  can,  now 
that  he  has  become  mine  enemy.  It  is  my  resolution  to 
sleep  in  the  carriage  during  the  remainder  of  the  journey.' 

"  When  a  Christian  priest  speaks  slightingly  of  the  world, 
he  is  supposed  to  do  so  in  the  way  of  his  profession,  and  to 
decry  through  envy,  the  pleasures  he  is  forbidden  to  taste. 
But  here  I  think  you  have  the  testimony  of  a  witness  every 
way  competent.  No  man  ever  knew  the  world  better,  or 
enjoyed  more  of  its  favors,  than  this  nobleman.  Yet  you 
sec  in  how  poor,  abject,  and  wretched  a  condition,  at  the 
time  when  he  most  wanted  help  and  comfort,  the  world  loft 
him,  and  he  left  the  world.  The  sentences  above  cited  from 
him  compose,  in  my  humble  opinion,  the  most  striking  and 


348 

affecting  sermm  upon  the  vanity  of  the  world,  ever  yet 
preached  to  mankind."*  Such  was  the  confession  in  his  old 
age,  to  a  son,  that  afterwards  died  by  his  own  hand,  of  Lord 
Chesterfield,  the  oracle  of  English  gaiety  and  manners 
Would  you  spend  the  evening  of  life  thus  ? 

You  may  now  turn  to  the  old  age  of  the  unreclaimed 
PRODIGAL.  He  who  in  youth  settled  to  no  business,  exer- 
cised no  virtue,  feared  not  God,  nor  regarded  man  ;  but 
bursting  through  the  restraints  of  parental  authority,  tramp- 
ling under  foot  the  laws  of  prudence  and  morality,  gave  him- 
self up  to  the  indulgences  of  passion,  and  plunged  into  the 
depths  of  vice.  Such  was  his  youth.  His  manhood  was 
little  better,  and  with  the  addition  of  being  a  constant  struggle 
against  the  poverty  and  want  which  were  the  consequences 
of  his  misconduct.  The  wonder  is  that  he  lived  so  long  ; 
that  human  nature  could  sustain  and  survive  what  he  had 
passed  through.  The  wintry  season  has  come  upon  him, 
and  oh,  what  a  winter — how  bleak  and  desolate  ?  In  his  cir- 
cumstances, how  deplorable  necessitous — in  his  mind  how 
intolerably  wretched  !  In  some  cases  the  poor  creature  is 
dependent  upon  the  bounty  of  friends — bounty  never  bestowed 
liut  with  rrductance,  because  bestowed  upon  one  so  unworthy, 
and  rather  flung  at  him  in  anger,  than  given  with  courtesy 
;md  kindness  :  in  other  instances,  he  is  driven  to  the  neces- 
sity of  picking  up,  by  various  mean  and  discreditable  artifices, 
a  haid  and  precarious  living.  Destitute  of  all  but  necessa- 
ries, and  having  few  comparatively  of  these,  his  miserable 
existence  seems  protracted  for  no  purpose  but  to  show  what 
a  wtetched  old  age  is  made  by  vicious  youth.  To  him 
appertains  the  language  of  one  of  Job's  friends,  "  His  bonoa 
are  full  of  the  sins  nf  his  youth,  which  shall  lie  down  with 
'  Bishop  Home's  Sermons. 


DYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVIXJ    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  349 

him  in  the  dust."  Job  xx.  11.  But  his  poverty  is  the  least 
part  of  his  misery,  for  he  has,  and  can  have,  no  peace  of 
mind.  When  he  reflects  at  all,  his  thoughts  prey  like  vul- 
tures upon  his  peace,  which  he  is  unable  to  drive  away  from 
their  dreadful  meal.  For  him  the  retrospect  is  indeed  most 
painful.  Life  with  him  has  been  worse  than  a  blank.  On 
what  a  dark  and  windino;  course  has  he  to  turn  his  afFi  iijhted 
gaze.  What  follies  and  what  sins  meet  his  eye  at  every 
turn.  Childhood,  youth,  and  manhood,  are  all  alike  distress- 
ing in  retrospect.  Not  one  bright  and  verdant  spot  presents 
itself  to  his  survey  in  either.  Oh  that  some  oblivious  draught 
could  blot  the  whole  from  recollection,  and  that  with  the 
recollections  of  the  past,  could  be  extinguished  the  anticipa- 
tions of  the  future.  He  is  as  little  respected  by  others  as  he 
respects  himself.  No  eye  beams  upon  him  with  affection,  no 
countenance  greets  him  with  a  smile,  no  voice  addresses  to 
him  the  language  of  respect,  no  heart  yields  to  him  its  sym- 
pathy, no  door  is  thrown  open  to  welcome  him.  He  is  an 
outcast  from  society,  a  burden  to  his  friends,  if  he  has  any 
left,  a  torment  to  hiuiself,  and  a  nuisance  to  the  earth  on 
which  he  walks.  He  is  one  of  sin's  most  miserable  slaves — - 
one  of  Satan's  most  degraded  vassals, — and  one  of  hell's 
most  legitimate  victims.  Of  all  the  spectacles  upon  earth, 
the  most  melancholy,  therefore,  is  such  a  wicked  old  man. 
Look  at  it,  my  young  friends,  and  tremble. 

I  next  exhibit  the  aged  worldling,  the  man  who  has  lived 
exclusively  for  wealth,  who  has  realized  his  wishes,  and  who 
spends  the  evening  of  his  life  in  thinking  upon  his  treasures, 
and  the  toil  and  anxiety  it  has  cost  him  to  acquire  them. 
And  what  are  his  reflections.  In  some  cases,  I  have  no 
doubt,  there  is  a  feeling  of  gratification  at  his  success.     He 


350  THE    YOUNG    MAn's    FRIEND. 

traces  his  gradual  rise  and  prosperity  in  life  with  gleeful 
delight,  and  compares  himself  with  other  less  happy  adven- 
turers. His  imagination  revels  in  his  wealth,  and  he  thinks 
how  much  he  is  leaving  to  his  heirs.  Poor  creature,  and 
this  is  all !  No  gratitude  to  God — no  recollection  of  money 
got  by  his  blessing,  or  spent  for  his  glory — no  testimony  of  his 
conscience,  that  he  has  honored  God  with  his  substance — 
no  pleasurable  reminiscences  of  the  good  he  has  done  with 
his  property — no  expectation  of  hearing  God  say  to  him, 
"Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant."  No,  nothing  but 
the  reflection  that  he  has  been  what  the  world  calls  a  fortu- 
nate man,  and  has  amassed  so  many  thousand  pounds.  0 
what  a  bald,  meagre,  and  wretched  retrospect — that  he  has 
scraped  together  so  much  money,  and  will  be  said  whenever 
he  quits  the  world,  to  have  died  rich  ! 

But  there  are  others  whose  thoughts  go  deeper  than  all 
this,  and  who  can  be  scarcely  said  to  be  privileged  with  so 
much  insensibility.  Their  review  is  far  more  painful,  when, 
as  is  sometimes  the  case,  their  folly  in  living  only  to  get 
money  comes  out  to  view.  "  1  have  been  successful,"  they 
say,  "  I  have  worked  hard,  even  as  I  have  lived  long  ;  and 
have  been  a  thriving  man.  I  shall  certainly  leave  much 
behind,  but  what  is  it  now  to  me.  I  am  an  old  man,  and 
must  soon  be  a  dying  man.  I  am  not  permitted  to  remain 
with  it,  nor  can  I  take  it  with  me.  The  only  pleasure  now 
left  me,  is  to  say  whose  it  shall  be  when  I  am  gone.  Is  it 
for  this  I  have  lived  and  labored  ?  Have  I  not  been  tab 
busy  in  getting  wealth,  either  to  enjoy  it,  or  to  employ  it  ? 
Have  I  not  laid  up  treasure  on  earth,  instead  of  heaven  ? 
Have  I  not  been  so  much  taken  up  for  myself,  as  to  forget 
jod  and  my  fellow-creatures  ?     Am  I  prepared  to  give  an 


DYING   EARLT,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  351 

account  of  this  property  ?  Have  I  not  too  much  reason  to 
ask  the  solemn  question,  '  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he 
gain  the  whole  world  and  lose  his  own  soul,  or  what  shall  a 
man  give  in  exchange  for  his  soul  ?  Can  I  not,  do  I  not 
enter  painfully  into  Solomon's  experience,  when  in  disgust 
and  penitence  he  looked  backed,  and  seeing  the  sins,  the 
follies,  and  pleasures  of  his  apostacy,  exclaimed,  '  Vanity  of 
vanities',  all  is  vanity.'''' 

Would  you  spend  old  age  in  indulging  such  reflections.? 
Is  this  the  retrospect  you  would  have  ? 

We  present  one  more  character  looking  back  upon  life's 
eventful  journey,  and  that  is — the  aged  Christian.  He 
too  reviews  life,  and  with  adoring  wonder,  gratitude,  and  joy. 
He  has  no  fear  of  the  past — no  dread  of  the  future.  How 
calm  and  how  peaceful  are  his  reflections.  How  pleasant  is 
the  retrospect,  and  how  much  more  bright  and  glorious  the 
prospect,  "  Blessed,"  he  exclaims,  "  be  the  God  and  Father 
of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  who  hath  led  and  guarded  me  all 
my  life  ;  who  was  the  Gruide  of  my  youth,  the  Benefactor  of 
my  manhood,  and  is  now  the  Supporter  of  my  old  age.  I 
adore  him  with  unutterable  gratitude  for  calling  me  early  by 
his  grace,  to  be  a  partaker  of  true  religion,  which  has  been 
a  source  of  happiness,  a  means  of  prosperity,  and  an  instru- 
ment of  usefulness  to  me  through  a  long  and  chequered  life. 
Through  Divine  goodness,  I  have  been  kept  from  vice  and 
folly,  and  have  risen  to  respectability  and  usefulness  ;  and  I 
owe  it  all  to  religion.  I  have  corrupted  none  by  infidel 
principles,  nor  seduced  any  from  the  path  of  integrity  by 
immoral  conduct ;  but  on  the  contrary,  while  I  am  deeply 
humbled  that  I  have  not  better  improved  my  opportunities 
and  my  talents,  I  hope  I  have  done  some  good  by  my  ex- 
ample, my  property,  and  my  prayers.     Life  with  me  has  ni>t 


352  THE  YOUNG  man's  friend. 

been  a  blank  either  as  regards  myself  or  others.  I  kno^ 
that  as  a  man,  and  a  sinful  man,  I  must  rely  for  salvation 
exclusively  upon  the  infinite  merit  of  the  Saviour — but  still 
as  a  Christian  I  rejoice  to  be  able  to  say,  *  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  life 
which  God  the  righteous  Judge  will  bestow  upon  me  in  that 
day.'  Providence  has  given  me  a  long  life,  and  grace  has 
mfide  it  a  comfortable  and,  I  hope,  a  useful  one  :  and  now  I 
can  lay  it  willingly  down  under  the  influence  of  a  hope  full 
of  immortality."  Venerable  saint.  "  Thy  hoary  head  is  a 
crown  of  glory,  being  found  in  the  way  of  righteousness." 

"  Time  that  doth  all  things  else  impair, 
Still  makes  thee  flourish  strong  and  fair," 

How  cloudless  and  majestic  is  thy  setting  sun.  Recollecting 
thy  holy,  blameless,  and  useful  life,  all  respect,  and  many 
love  thee.  The  young  delight  to  show  thee  reverence,  and 
the  aged,  to  manifest  esteem. 

My  young  friends,  which  of  these  characters  would  you 
be  in  the  evening  of  life  }  What  kind  of  old  man  would  you 
be  .?  With  what  class  of  these  reflections  would  you  survey 
life  from  the  extreme  verge  of  your  terrestrial  existence  ? 
How  would  you  look  forward  to  eternity  at  the  close  of  a 
protracted  existence  }  With  the  dread  of  punishment  for  all 
the  unpardoned  sins  of  threescore  years  and  ten  ;  or  with 
the  anticipation  of  the  gracious  rewards  for  all  the  holy 
actions  of  that  long  period  .? 

Life  is  before  you  now.  Ask  the  question  seriously, 
solemnly,  frequently,  "  What  is  my  life?  Soon  it  will  be 
behind  you.  Consider  it  well — its  chief  purpose — its  brevity 
— its  uncertainty — the  smallness  of  its  available  portion  for 


BYING    EARLY,    OR    LIVING    TO    REVIEW    LIFE.  353 

any  useful  end — its  relative  proportion  to  eternity,  and  its 
moral  influence  and  bearing  wpon  eternity.  Life  is  froba,' 
tionary^  and  the  ichole  of  probation.  All  that  follows  be- 
longs to  retribution.  It  is  the  causal  period,  and  the  only 
period  of  causation.  Every  thing  beyond  is  effect.  It  is 
the  little  pivot  of  existence,  on  which  turns  the  immense  and 
immeasurable  whole.  It  is  ;pre'paratory.  Here  we  sow — 
here  we  are  always  sowing — and  we  sow  only  here.  Here- 
after we  reap,  and  shall  for  ever  do  nothing  but  reap.  It  is 
an  accoimiable  term — the  basis  of  judgment — the  only  part 
of  duration  that  is  to  be  specifically  accounted  for.  Though 
we  shall  be  accountable  beings  as  long  as  we  exist,  yet  it  is 
this  short  prefatory  portion  of  our  accountable  existence 
that  is  to  determine  the  character  of  all  the  rest.  The  actions 
of  this  little  life  are  empowered  to  decide  for  eternity.  This 
is  a  consideration  of  unparalleled  power  and  weight.  Let  it 
be  contemplated  and  felt.  We  a.re  acting  for  eternity. 
Ages  of  retribution  answering  to  this  hour  of  -probation. 
How  circumspectly  then  ought  we  to  live  !  If  such  be  the 
consequences  of  life,  how  frugal  ought  we  to  be  of  its  mo- 
ments, A  little  care  and  effort  now,  and  all  will  be  safe  for 
ever.  A  little  providence  and  painstaking,  through  the 
short  period  of  your  earthly  existence,  and  you  will  hav« 
made  your  fortune  for  immortality. 

How  momentous  then  is  life  !  How  important  to  think 
of  this  when  it  is  commencing.  Who  should  not  prepare  to 
live  .'*  What  a  solemn  exercise  to  review  life  at  its  close. 
Life — the  day  of  salvation — the  harbinger  of  death — the 
season  of  grace  for  the  soul — the  matter  of  judgment — the 
preparation  for  eternity — the  opportunity  for  heaven — the 
pathway  to  hell.  To  review  life — first  to  ask  ourselves, 
*'  What  have  I  done  with  life  ?"  and  then  almost  immedi- 


354  THE    YOUNG   MAn's    FRIEND. 

atelj  afterwards  to  hear  God  saying,  "  What  hast  thou  don© 
with  life  ?" 
Behold  the  Judge  standeth  at  the  door.     And 

"  This  is  the  summons  that  he  brings — 
Awake  !  for  on  this  transient  hottr^ 
Thy  long  eternity  depend*. 


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C ;  'NNINGHAM'S  World  without  Souls.     ISmo 30 

(' I ' VEER'S  (Rev.  T.  L.)  Stray  Arrows.     New  edition 10 

J  'AlL'r  Commentary.     For  Family  Reading.     Svo 8  o«i 

D'ALTBIGNE'S  History  of  the  Reformation.     5  vols.    12mo. . . .  2  5') 

Do.                       do.                       Svo.     Complete  in  1  vol 1  5:i 

Life  of  Cromwell  the  Protector.     12mo ' 50 

Germany,  Englan (\  and  Seotlar.  d.     12mo 7."i 

r—  Luther  and  Calvin.     IBmo 2.-) 

• —  Authority  of  God.    16mo 75 


CARTERS'      PUBLICATIONS. 


DAVIDSON'S  Connection  of  Sacred  and  Profane  History 1  00 

DAVID'S  Psalms,  in  meter.    Large  type.    12mo.    Embossed..  75 

Do.                  do.                  do.                  gilt  edges 1  00 

Do.                   do.                   do.                   Turkey  morocco 2  00 

Do.                   ISmo.     Good  type.     Plain  sheep 88 

Do.                   4Smo.     Very  neat  pocket  edition.     Sheep 2Q 

Do.                          "                   "                   "             morocco 25 

Do.                          "                   "                   "             gilt  edges..  81 

Do.                          "                   "                   "             tucks 50 

Do.                   with  Brown's  Notes.    ISmo 5 J 

D  0.                          "                   "                   "           morocco,  gilt  1  25 

DA  VIES'  Sermons.    3  vols.     12mo 2  00 

DICK'S  (John,  D.D.)  Lectures  on  Theology.    2  vols,  in  1.    Cloth  2  50 

Do.               do.               do.            Sheep,  $3.     2  vols.     Cloth...  3  00 

. Lectures  on  Acts.    Svo 150 

DICKINSON'S  (Kev.  E.  W.)  Scenes  from  Sacred  History 1  00 

Eesponses  from  Sacred  Oracles 1  00 

DILL'S  Ireland's  Miseries,  their  Cause  and  Cure 75 

DODDPJDGE'S  Else  and  Progress.    ISmo 40 

Life  of  Colonel  Gardiner.    ISmo 80 

DEUMMOND'S  (Mrs.)  Emily  Vernon.    A  Tale.    16mo 75 

(Eev.  D.  T.  K.)  on  the  Parables.    Svo 

DUNCAN'S  (Eev.  Dr.)  Sacred  Philosophy  of  the  Seasons.  2  vols.  2  50 

Life,  by  his  Son.     "With  portrait.    12mo 75 

Tales  of  the  Scottish  Peasantry.     ISmo.    Illustrated 50 

Cottage  Fireside.     ISmo.     Illustrated 40 

(Mrs.)  Life  of  Mary  Lundie  Duncan.    16mo 75 

■ Life  of  George  A.  Lundie.    ISmo 50 

Memoir  of  George  B.  Phillips.    ISmo 25 

Children  of  the  Manse 50 

America  as  I  Found  It 1  00 

(Mary  Lundie)  Ehymes  for  my  Children.     Illustrated. ...  25 

ED WAED'S  (Jonathan,  D.D.)  Charity  and  its  Fruits.    ISmo...  50 

ENGLISH  Pulpit  (The).     Svo 150 

EESKINE'S  Gospel  Sonnets.    ISmo.     Portrait 50 

EVENING  Hours  ^vith  my  Children.     Colored,  $1  75.    Plain..  1  25 

EVIDENCES  of  Christianity— University  of  Virginia.    8vo....  2  50 
FAMILY  Worship.     Svo.     Morocco,  $5.      Half  calf,  $4.    Cloth    3  00 

FANNY  and  her  Mamma.     Square 50 

FISK'S  Memorial  of  the  Holy  Land,  with  steel  plates 1  00 

Orphan  Tale 25 

FLEETWOOD'S  History  of  the  Bible.     Illustrated 2  00 

FLOEENCE  Egerton ;  or,  Sunshine  and  Shadow.      Illustrated.  75 

FOLLOW  Jesus.    By  the  author  of  "  Come  to  Jesus" 25 

FOED'S  Decapolis.     ISrao 25 


■"I'm  I  ni  1 1''*^°'°""'   Sertipnary-Speer   Library 


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