UC-NRLF ^B 5 l'^^ f J 4^^?^^ LIBRARY OF THK University of Californl Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH. Received October, 18^4, ortance of phy- sical maturity — Quotation from J. T. Crane — Late King of the French Page 11 II. INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. A distinction between wisdom and knowledge — I. Subjects of knowledge — 1. Self-knowledge— 2. The knowledge of men— 3. The knowledge of the physical world— 4. A competent knowledge of science and letters. — II. Practical wisdom — Reasoning, in what the power of, consists — Rules of— All may attain it— Ignorance is disgraceful— Illustrations from James, Locke, and Cicero 27 III. INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD, CONTINUED. THE IMAGINATION. Definition of imagination from Abercrombie and Ranch— The He- brew word— Importance of the power— May be improved— It is necessary to the vigour of the reasoning powers— Contributes to sympathy— And is a source of happiness — Diseased imagination — Case from Dr. Gall— Rousseau— Case from Dean Swift— From M. Chabanon— Several cases never before published— Hypochon- dria — An amusing instance — Unduly excited imagination — One idea— Castle building — Reckless speculations — A corrupt im- agination — A striking illustration — Causes of this corruption — Worksof fiction— Opinion of Dean Swift — John Foster~Dr. John- son — Dr. Abercrombie 53 IV. EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. Desires — Animal appetites — A desire of wealth — Desire of influence — Fear — False notions of courage and cowardice — The duelist — Courage and fortitude— Love— Definition— The counterfeit of— Malevolent affections— Anger— Hatred— Revenge —Envy— Jeal- ousy— Pride— A distinction— Influence upon the character 84 10 CONTENTS. V. VOLITIVE MANHOOD. Government of the will— Energy — Decision— Importance of a re- solve — Sad effects of delay— Hindrances to decision— Instances of decision — Firmness — Difficulties and importance of— A short les- son — Illustrations— Perseverance— Difference between these traits of character and obstinacy Page 111 VI. SOCIAL MANHOOD. "What is implied in good manners — 1. Special attention to general bearing — 2. Chaste conversation — 3. Appropriate bearing towards ladies — i. Manners at home— o. Pay special respect to age.. 139 VII. CIVIL MANHOOD. Rights of citizens — Protection — Responsibilities of a citizen— Duties of a citizen — 1. To pay taxes for the support of government — 2. Assistinsupporting the purity of government — 3. To contribute to the common stock of useful knowledge— 4. To contribute to the public morality 1G4 VIII. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. The internal qualities of a moral or a religious man — Experi- mental religion — An enlightened, purified, and awakened con- science—Faith — A thorough renovation of heart 190 IX.— MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD, CONTINUED. Practical religion— Outward profession— Attending the means of grace — Benevolent institutions — Christian conduct in your inter- course with the world 218 X. TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. This is an age of improvement — Foreigners — Radicalism — Activity —An extract from Bonar on Progress— Temptations to youth- Gold fever 240 XI. THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. Extensive information— Untiring industry— Power of adaptation- Liberal Christian education— Thorough and extensive acquaint- ance with books— Large and catholic views and feelings 277 [UHIVBRSZTTj MANLY CHARACTER. I. PHYSICAL MANHOOD. " THAT OUR SONS MAY BE AS PLANTS GROWN UP IN THEIR YOUTH." — PSA. CXLIV, 12. The idea of an early and a healthy develop- ment of the physical powers is not blindly implied in this text, but seems to stand out prominently upon its very face. That you early acquire the physical strength of a man — hardness of muscle and strength of nerve — is every way important. I need not attempt to prove to you, young gentlemen, that the weakness of childhood or feminine delicacy is not becoming in one who has reached the stature and bulk of a man. I shall assume that you concede all this, and fully appreciate the importance of the full development of the physical powers as early in life as possible, and, of course, that you are prepared properly to estimate the means which are directed to this end. I shall consequently proceed at 12 MANLY CHARACTER. once to the consideration of the conditions of the early attainment of the physical powers of manhood. The suhject will not he treated in so learned or scientific a manner as to be difficult of ap- prehension. A few practical rules will he laid down, which will commend themselves to your common-sense, and which will need very little illustration. 1. The first thing which I urge as necessary to the acquisition of manly strength and vigour of body, is exercise. Every muscle of the human body requires a certain amount of use in order to its healthy condition. The physical powers are all increased by exercise, and diminished by disuse ; and to give strength and vigour to the body, a species of exercise is necessary which will task the muscular strength of every part of the system. Walk- ing only exercises a portion of the muscles, Avhile others remain comparatively inactive. In the place of field labour, which is by far the most conducive to bodily strength, gymnastic exercises may be profitably re- / sorted to. ^ In the mean time, if a young man is en- gaged in a business which will afford him an opportunity to lift heavy bodies, to pull a rope, to roll barrels, tumble boxes, or exercise PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 13 himself in any other way whereby the muscles of his limbs and chest may be moderately strained, he will find that such exercise, em- ployed habitually, will give him strength and vigour of body which otherwise he would never attain. *^ An examination of the human frame demon- strates that it was intended for motion, alter- nately with repose, and not for a state of abso- lute quiescence. The action of the muscles is necessary to aid in circulating the blood and in completing the process of digestion, as well as to insure a regular motion of the bowels. The rising generation would be much benefited if instruction in any branch of natural history formed a part of their education ; young per- sons would then be furnished with motives for taking exercise out of doors, to the manifest advantage of the figure of the body and the tendencies of the mind. " Agul, a voluptuary, who could be man- aged but with difficulty by his physician, on finding himself extremely ill from indolence and intemperance, requested advice. *Eat a basilisk stewed in rose water,^ replied the phy- sician. In vain did the slaves search for a hasilish until they met with Zadig, who, ap- proaching Agul, exclaimed, * Behold that which thou desires t ! But, my lord/ continued he, * it 14 MANLY CHARACTER. is not to be eaten ; all its virtue must enter through thy pores ; I have, therefore, enclosed it in a little ball, blown up, and covered with a fine skin ; thou must strike this ball with all thy might, and I must strike it back again for a considerable time, and by observing this regimen, and taking no other drink than rose- water for a few days, thou wilt see and ac- knowledge the effect of my art.' The first day Agul was out of breath, and thought he should have died of fatigue ; the second he was less fatigued and slept better ; in eight days he recovered all his strength. Zadig then said to him : * There is no such thing in na- ture as a basilisk ! but thou hast taken exercise and been temperate, and hast, therefore, recovered thy health P '^ — Penny Oyc, Analeptics, For the young men of our cities and v/ towns it would be of great service to spend a few weeks during the summer, for several years successively, in field labour ; to follow the plow, handle the pitch-fork, and swing the scythe and cradle, with due moderation, would give them physical power and solidity of muscle that would never be attained by the desk or counter. To those who are unwilling to have recourse to such a method of forming a sub- stantial physical constitution, I would advise riding on horseback, and scouring the moun- PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 15 tains and valleys on foot, making geological or botanical collections, or, under certain limi- tations, hunting and fishing will, in some sort, answer as a substitute for field labour. Some method of free, vigorous exercise, entered upon from choice, ccm amove, in the open air, and in good company, for a portion of the year, is an indispensable condition of good health and a vigorous body. " The importance to be attached to exer- cise, and its inseparable connexion with good health, was better understood by the ancient Greeks and Eomans, especially by the former, than by ourselves. They saw more clearly that the perfection of the whole man was to be effectually obtained only by a due develop- ment of his physical as well as his intellectual nature ; and that the healthy condition of the mind depended on a perfectly healthy condi- tion of the body. Hence, they made the two parts of education an almost equally serious business, and did not leave exercise to be a matter of accident ; hence the importance they attached to the gymnasium and its athletic ex- ercises. The * sound mind in a sound body,' (not either alone,) was the almost proverbial expression of well-being ; and surely the emi- nent intellectual capacity and achievements exhibited by this remarkable nation, will serve 16 MANLY CHARACTER. to show that the mind is no loser by due at- tention to the body.'^* 2. Another thing essential to physical strength, is suitable attention to diet. Food should be of the right kind, taken in suitable quantities, and at the proper seasons. These rules, we are aware, are not very specific, and may be of little use. They are introduced in this place as an occasion for a few practical remarks which are vitally important, and which will do much towards regulating the matter of regimen. Food, in both kind and degree, should be suited to the strength of the constitution and the state of the digestive organs ; and a little attention to the subject of dietetics, and an ordinary amount of com- mon-sense, will furnish adequate guidance in all ordinary cases. Overtasking the digestive powers, or denying them the means of adequate employment, either, will, in all cases, be found prejudicial to the physical functions, and, of course, inconsistent with physical solidity and vigour. While too much animal food should be avoided on the one hand, a mere vegetable diet should be eschewed on the other. In a healthy state of the digestive organs, a diet * Good Health : the Possibility, Duty, and Means of Obtain- ing and Keeping it. — An excellent little work, published by Carlton & Phillips, and revised by D. P. Kidder. PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 17 upon bran bread and milk is quite as far below as three hearty meals of beef and bacon would be above the standard of propriety. " It should ever be remembered, that the object in eating is not to see how much can be taken without suffering or injur}^, but rather how little. The repair of the body and tlie energies of the mind, will be best secured by just so much of wholesome food as is really required, and no more. There can, however, be no virtue or wisdom in any degree of absti- nence which deprives us of the blessings of strength, ease, and energy ; but there is wis- dom in finding out, as nearly as we can, how much aliment will procure these for us, and in limiting ourselves to that quantity." The following illustration of this important subject is from the pen of Addison : — " It is said of Diogenes, that meeting a young man who was going to a feast, he took him up in the street and carried him home to his friends, as one who was running into imminent danger, had not he prevented him. What would that philosopher have said had he been present at the gluttony of a modern meal ? Would he not have thought the master of the family mad, and have begged his servants to tie down his hands had he seen him devour fowl, fish, and flesh, swallow oil and vinegar, wines and 2- 18 MANLY CHARACTER. spices, throw down salads of twenty different herbs, sauce of a hundred ingredients, confec- tions and fruits of numberless sweets and fla- vours ? What unnatural motions and counter- ferments must such a medley of intemperance produce in the body ! For my own part, when I behold a fashionable table set out in all its magnificence, I fancy I see gouts and dropsies, fevers and lethargies, with other innumera- ble distempers, lying in ambush among the dishes.'' — SpectaU>r, 3. Necessary sleep, taken at the proper time, is another condition of health and physi- cal vigour. " Healthy sleep is the perfect rest and in- action of the brain, and, therefore, of every function that implies consciousness. It con- sequently draws with it the repose of the volun- tary muscles, and the cessation of almost every other mode of expenditure, while it leaves the involuntary functions, whicli nourish the frame and repair the waste of the tissues, under the circumstances most favourable to their ac- tivity. This is wliat constitutes sleep the great * foster-nurse of nature.'" The practice of turning night into day and day into night, cannot be too severely repro- bated. A large class of young men are ex- posed to the temptation of spending, in dissi- PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 19 pating pleasures, all that part of the night which is the most naturally adapted to re- freshing sleep, and trying to compensate the system for the loss of quiet rest during the fore part of the night, by sleeping away the morning — the season when the air is bracing, and all nature is wakeful and joyous. The maxim of Poor Eichard, alias Dr. Franklin, ** Early to bed and early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise," is based upon the soundest philosophy, but is most horribly old- fashioned in the estimation of too many of the young men of the present day. 4. Cleanliness cannot be too highly esti- mated. In order to this, frequent bathing with pure cold water is indispensable. " Perspiration is the channel by which salts and other principles, no longer useful in the system, are removed from it. According to Thenard, it consists of a large quantity of water, a small quantity of an acid, which, ac- cording to circumstances, may be either acetic, lactic, or phosphoric, and some salts, chiefly hydrochlorate of soda and potassa. Taking the lowest estimate of Lavoisier, the skin ap- pears to be endowed with the power of remov- ing from the system, in the space of twenty- four hours, twenty ounces of waste ; the reten- tion of this in the system is productive of groat 20 MANLY CHARACTER. injury, and the inconvenience is only lessened by the increased action of some internal organ, which becomes oppressed by the double load thus cast upon it. Even the retention of the perspired matter close to the skin, from neglect of changing the clothes, is the source of many cutaneous diseases, particularly in spring and summer.'^ — Penny Ency., Bathing, To remove this injurious matter from the skin, I say. Bathe frequently in cold water. The young man who is so afflicted with hydrophobia that the sight of a shower-bath would cause his teeth to chatter, is in a fair way, sooner or later, to fall a victim to dys- pepsia, bronchitis, nervousness, or consump- tion. What I say of bathing, of course, is to be understood as applicable only to a healthy condition of the system. When the system is enfeebled by disease, the bath should be regu- lated by the advice of a physician."' 5. Exposure to the extremes of weather, under all ordinary circumstances, is a means of bracing the system and fortifying it against the evils which often result from atmospheric changes. A young man who is never exposed to wind and weather would be very likely to ** For a more extended view of this subject than can here be taken, see "Good Health," pp. 104-121. PHYSICAL MANHOOD. M take cold if a current of air should fall upon him, and if he were to be caught out in a storm would never expect to outlive the danger. The feeble muscles of such boys are as unfit to endure the pelting of a storm, either by land or sea, as a piece of satin would be for the sail of a man-of-war. 6. The final condition of physical strength which I shall mention, is temperance in all things. The word temperance, in its most general signification, implies moderation, or self-gov- ernment, and is applicable to every species of indulgence. It shall not be my purpose at present to treat of each department of this great and important theme, but to call atten- tion to a few of its leading features. The ordinary use of the word temperance, at present, implies almost exclusively abstinence from intoxicating drinks, or, in its lowest sense, the negation of habits of drunkenness. To say nothing of the moral influence of the habit of using intoxicating drinks as a beverage, its influence upon the vital organs of the system is such as to place such drinks under the ban, with all who regard life and health. There is no safety to the young man, from the dread- ful evils of intemperance and ruin, but in the Scripture rule in relation to all sinful courses, 22 MANLY CHARACTER. ** Touch not, taste not, handle not the unclean thing.'' The social glass, so insidious in its advances as that it gives no alarm, is the opening door to all the mischiefs and miseries of confirmed drunkenness. Every repetition of the draught tends to form an appetite and fix a habit, which will continue to cry, Give ! give ! until it brings disease and premature death in its train ! I would advise all young men, who can have access to them, to examine Dr. Se wall's series of engravings, showing the appearance of the human stomach through the different stages of drinking intoxicating liquors — from the stage called temperate drinking, to that attended with delirium tremens. Here you will see with your own eyes what havoc alcohol makes upon the delicate coats of the stomach, and how soon it begins its career of disorganization and ruin. o There is a strong temptation to enlarge upon this point beyond due bounds. My limits will not admit of saying all that I should say in a temperance lecture, and I must leave my young friends to those who, of set purpose, have discussed this important topic, and presented its bearings and interests at large. It will be sufficient for my present purpose to say, in general, that the most PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 28 stringent maxims of temperance embraced in absolute teetotalism, meet my most cordial approbation, and cannot be too scrupulously observed by the young man who would ac- quire and maintain physical manhood. With this brief statement of the conditions of physical development and physical matu- rity, it may be appropriate to give a few illus- trations of the real importance of the end had in view. I need not attempt to prove that if you ly would be useful members of society, you will stand in need of a strong and vigorous phys- ical constitution. S(mU, to act in the affairs of this world, must have bodies to inhabit ; and, as the soul acts through the bodily organs, if those organs are imperfect or weak, the mind will necessarily be much crippled in its energies, and retarded in its aspirations. Whether you are a merchant, a farmer, a mechanic, a physician, a lawyer, or a clergyman, you want a sound, strong body. Without solid sinews and muscles, and strong nerves, you Avill probably drag out a miserable existence, and be comparatively useless. Would you be a dyspeptic, or a hy- pochondriac, and die a thousand deaths be- fore the time really comes for you to close your probation, then take no means 24 MANLY CHARACTER. to secure and preserve a vigorous physical system. " There are few thino^s more calculated to stir our hearts with deep regret than to see a young man, whose mind has been trained to labour, and stored with knowledge, whose heart beats with sympathy for his fellow- men, and whose soul pants for honourable activity, but whose feeble frame, like a frail bark driven by a mighty engine, trembles at every impulse of the power within. And how keenly does such a one feel his own condition ! He sees others ascend whither he longs to rise, but cannot, because of his 'body of death.' His burning eye, like the eagle's, is fixed upon the sun, and he longs to soar beyond the clouds, and revel in purer light above ; but a feeble frame, like a broken wing, holds him down to earth, and all his efforts to launch away end only in disappoint- ment and new anguish.'^'"' There are instances in which a feeble body is inhabited by a soul so strong in its im- pulses and purposes, that it will, for a time, act vigorously in the great battle of life ; but they constitute the exception and not the rule. Besides, it should be considered that ^ Discourse before the Belles-Lettres Society of Dickinson College; by Rev. J. Towiiley Crane, A. M. PHYSICAL MANHOOD. 25 if these persons had a physical system equal to the texture of their minds, they would do proportion ably more for the world. You may have the prospect of wealth, which will place you above the necessities of labour ; but you should not forget that riches often " take to themselves wings and fly away/' And if you should at last be left to your own resources, it will be convenient to find yourself able to resort to honest labour to secure your bread. Should you be cast away upon some inclement shore, or wrecked at sea-^should you only be obliged to ply the pump on a vessel to avoid drowning — it will be well for you if your hands and heart are equal to the emergency. The late King of the French, Louis Philippe, in the emergencies of the great French Eevo- lution, which beheaded the legitimate sover- eign, was a fugitive in the United States, and, during his wanderings, performed prodi- gies in the way of toil and exposure. He came from Canada into the western part of the State of New- York, travelled on foot east to the Susquehanna at Owego ; from that point descended that rapid and crooked stream in a canoe to Harrisburgh ; crossed the Alle- ghany Mountains, and, in a small, flat-bottom boat, descended the Ohio and the Mississippi 2Q MANLY CHARACTER. to New-Orleans. He slept so long upon a hard bed, during his wanderings in America, that lie never more became reconciled to feathers. When in France, we were shown his beds, in several of his palaces, and, in all cases, his side was hard, being composed of a plank, covered by a thin mattress. When the kings of Europe were trembling upon their thrones, at the commencement of the late convulsions, he said to a friend that he was the only king in Europe fit for his place, for he was the only one who could black his own boots. If kings may find it convenient to be able to endure hardships and privations, and to minister to their own wants, may not all others? When the emergency comes, he is happy who is prepared for the struggle. INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 27 II -INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. "BRETHREN, BE NOT CHILDREN IN UNDERSTANDING, . . BUT IN UNDERSTANDING BE MEN." — I COR. XIV, 20. While but a youth, Solomon was promoted to the throne of Israel. His father had been renowned for his battles, and had acquired great wealth ; and to all the glory he had attained, through his extraordinary military prowess, and the special providence of God, Solomon succeeded. He was a most loved and cherished son, and had been tenderly nurtured. What more natural than that he should look to further conquests, and an in- creased accumulation of wealth, and that he might live many years in the enjoyment of all that this world could afford. This would have been the natural tendency of an aspiring mind — and especially the mind of a young man — left to its own natural promptings. Solomon's mind had early been imbued with religious truth — he had a true idea of human responsibility and human destiny. When, therefore, God said to him, "Ask what I shall give thee,'' his petition was : " Give me now wisdom and knowledge, that I may go out and come in before this people." This 28 MANLY CHARACTER. choice is not only suitable and wise for a king — -just entering upon the high functions of his office — but for every young man who is about to take upon himself the duties and responsi- bilities of a citizen. It might seem too much like hair-splitting to attempt a distinction between " wisdom '' and '' knowledge/' as it may be supposed that they are mere synonyms, and are both used for the sake of emphasis. I shall, however, venture to suggest a distinction, which I think justified both by the original and the use of the words, which will afford some aid in the discussion of the subject of the present lecture. Knowledge implies intelligence, or the capacity and furnishment of the mind ; and wisdom, ability and aptness of the mind to appropriate its stores to practical purposes. Here we have precisely the two ideas which I wish to present in some detail, and which shall be considered in the light of the passage which I have selected for my motto. I shall endeavour to show that your minds must first be furnished with facts and principles, and that then you must acquire a facility in using them ; and that this is that very manli- ness of intellectual character which the apostle enforces with so much gravity and with such force of reason. INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 29 I. First, then, I shall speak of the nature and subjects of knowledge. The knowledge of God, or religious knowl- edge, the most important of all sciences, I shall reserve for separate consideration, and therefore shall not here embrace it within my classification. 1. The first branch of knowledge I shall notice, is self-knotvledge. That sage maxim which was engraven upon the portals of the temple of Delphi, yvoydi oeavTov, Jcnoiv thyself, whether it be regarded as a maxim of mere human prudence, or of the religion of the Bible, stands out pre- eminent in importance. That shrewd think- er, Coleridge, says : — " There is one knowl- edge, which it is every man's interest and duty to acquire, namely, self-knowledge ; or to what end was man alone, of all animals, imbued by the Creator with the faculty of self-consciousness?'' Again: "In countries eiilightened by the gospel, the most formi- dable, and, it is to be feared, the most fre- quent impediment, to men's turning their minds inward upon themselves, is, that they are afraid of what they shall find there. There is an aching hollowness in the bosom, a dark cold speck at the heart, an obscure and boding sense of somewhat, that must be 30 MANLY CHARACTER. kept out of sight of the conscience ; some secret lodger, whom they can neither resolve to reject nor retain/' We should know our own composition and character, our constitutional tendencies, the temperament of our minds, our weaknesses, habits, faults, wants. These are matters which will be studied and understood bj others ; and why should we be ignorant of them? Without this knowledge we can do little towards our own advancement — we shall constantly misjudge wdth regard to the appro- priate means of improvement, and our efforts will be as powerless as they are ill-chosen. We must form a proper estimate of our powers, the measure of our intellectual strength, our particular adaptation, our men- tal complexion, the peculiar caste and strength of genius with which God has endowed us. Without this knowledge, we shall be likely to miss our way in the selection of the profession or course of life to which we are adapted, and in which we would act with the greatest use- fulness and credit. We should also be able rightly to estimate our susceptibilities ; not only our suscepti- bilities of improvement and of happiness, but also of prejudice, of temptations, of being governed by circumstances. He knows but INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. ol little of himself who has not become ac- quainted with the manner in which he is affected by the objects and influences by which he is surrounded. He will neither know how to improve, nor to guard himself against, surrounding circumstances, and, con- sequently, all the knowledge he may attain of his wants, dangers, and capabilities, will be to very little purpose. The self-knowledge which I urge is not a natural and spontaneous growth, but is the result of patient and diligent effort in using the means of its attainment. The individual w^ho would know himself must commence his efforts for the attainment of this object from a deep conviction of its importance, and an equally deep and strong conviction that he is deficient in that species of knowledge. That young man, Avho, from a hasty measurement of himself, has formed a most favourable opinion of his own powers and qualifications, has not yet sounded the depths of his own emptiness — knows little of what there is in his character to be remedied, and the specific direction in which he is to look for aid. They who really know least of themselves, will be likely to have the least idea of the importance of self-knowledge, and, consequently, will be the last to move in the 32 MANLY CHARACTER. direction of its attainment. They see them- selves in a false light ; they are blind to their faults, while others not only see them, but see also their self-deception. The false estimate they make of themselves is plain to everybody else, but is wholly undiscovered by themselves. Well might such pray, in the language of the old Scotch bard : — *' wad some power the giftie gie us To see oursels as ithers see us ! It wad frae mony a folly free us, An' foolish notion : How mony airs in gait wad lea us, An' e'en devotion !" — ^Burns. It often happens in such cases that nothing but some grand blunder — some stupendous failure — will suffice to open the eyes of the victims of self-ignorance. The pangs of dis- appointment, the mortification of disgrace, alone can bring them to their senses. Pa- rental admonition, or friendly warning, makes no impression upon them. Full of them- selves, and equally full of contempt and scorn for the weak ones who have never had the penetration to appreciate their splendid abilities, they launch out into depths that tliey are not able to fathom, and are lost — undertake to navigate unknown seas, and make shipwreck. INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 3^ The means to be employed in the pursuit of self-knowledge are easily suggested. Constant and thorough self-examination is the first point which naturally presents itself in this connexion. The study of self is a great and difficult study. We are naturally blind to our own faults and infirmities, and, consequently, slow in coming to a just esti- mate of our own character. In looking into the mysteries of our own hearts, we should be suspicious of undue partiality to ourselves whenever we find anything there with which we are specially pleased ; and when we feel a disposition to overlook, or glance hastily over, our failings, or any tendency that is certainly wrong or doubtful. In all such cases, we should force ourselves to pause, and look a little more thoroughly into the matter, and come to no determination until we shall have thoroughly sifted our motives, intentions, and even feelings — the bodings and tendencies of our hearts. Let it always be borne in mind that we had far better over-estimate our vices than our virtues — our ignorance than our knowledge — our weaknesses than our strength. The spirit in which this examination should be entered upon and prosecuted should be not only impartial and earnest, but devout W^ 34: MANLY CHARACTER. should always ask divine light to guide us to right conclusions. This is the point where we should especially claim the promise, and follow the directions of the apostle James : — *' If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all liberally, and up- braideth not; and it shall be given him.'^ Going to God in prayer should also be at- tended by an earnest and devout reading of the Scriptures. The word of God is the mir- ror which displays our moral features as they really are. It is a perfect moral standard, and, when faithfully consulted, does not fail to show us our failures and waywardness. We shall also be greatly aided in this work by having before us the best models of man- ners and morals. Where we see a worthy example — a man of pure morals and unex- ceptionable manners — we should try to con- ceive ourselves in his position ; and, if we are greatly his inferior, we shall be struck with an evident incongruity between what we are and what sve behold — his charac- ter and our tendencies would be at odds. Our reflections would naturally be these : I would not have been likely to do thus under such circumstances ; I could not well have resisted such terrible temptations ; I should not have attained such eminent and INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 85 enviable self-denial — endured sucli labour, and suffered such privations for such reasons, and stimulated by such motives. There is a les- son in this, which brings home to our view our deficiencies and wants. Beading will be found exceedingly useful as an aid in the study of ourselves. More especially books which display the depths of human character, and expose the sophisms by which men deceive themselves, should have our attention. There is a world of wisdom in the little book on " Self-Knowledge," by Dr. Mason. Every young man should read this book, and repeat the reading, until its great principles and practical rules are thor- oughly mastered, and leave a permanent im- pression upon the memory."' 2. Another branch of knowledge, is a knowl- edge of men. The great importance of this species of knowledge will be at once suggested by the fact, that we are constantly coming into con- tact with other men. Our intercourse with them, and their influence over us, are fruitful of good or evil results, as we are prepared, or not prepared, to fix a right estimate of them. A knowledge of human character is absolutely ^ The best edition of this book is published s^i the Method- ist Book Room. 36 MANLY CHARACTER. essential to success in any profession or busi- ness. For want of this we are liable to be deceived, supplanted, and thwarted, at every turn. I can assure you, young gentlemen, that your success in the world, to a great ex- tent, will depend upon your ability to fathom the mysteries of human character — to detect, and arm yourselves against, the arts of men whose whole business is to take advantage of the weaknesses of others, and to become rich by plundering the wrecks which they have occasioned. These miserable blood-suckers are constantly hunting for simpletons upon whom to glut their avarice or their ambition. They pay special attention to the young, the adventurous, the precipitate, the reckless, and the inexperienced. Like their master, whom they serve, they go about " seeking whom they may devour ;^^ and woe to him who is not acquainted with their wiles. Human character is to be learned by read- ing and observation. History — and especially biography- — is replete with instruction upon this great subject. The lives of great and good men — philosophers, statesmen, divines — the biographies of pious men and women, will not fail to shed much light upon human character in general. You will not find it necessary to go very deeply into the history INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 37 of crime in the prosecution of this study. Crime is contracted by contact. The less we know of its actual forms, the less we see and read of them, the better. In the history of a pious man — following him through his juve- nile years, and observing all his struggles with temptation, his early aberrations, and later relapses — there will be developed enough of the weaknesses and corruptions of the hu- man heart to serve as warnings, without your diving into haunts of vice, either by actual observation, or by reading the history, espe- cially the private history, of noted sinners. In your intercourse with society, you will see the fruits of human corruption in real life in sufficiency — yea, far more than will be for your good — without studying the fictitious characters, which infidel and licentious writers have conjured up, to meet the vitiated taste of the novel-reading community, and to lead away the young from the paths of virtue. The idea that human character is more truth- fully developed in works of fiction than in veritable history, is an absurdity too monstrous to be entertained for a moment. You might as well be led to believe that the most miser- able daubing of the most bunglin;g artist, far exceeds the original; that you could learn more of the real appearance and topography 38 MANLY CHARACTER. of New- York, Paris, or London, from some pic- ture, or mere fancy sketch, tlian by personal inspection. There may be a bolder outline, higher and stronger colours in the copy than in the original ; but there is not therefore more of truth. The impressions of the imagin- ation are sometimes stronger than those of the eye or ear ; but what of that ? Does that prove that the visions of the imagination are more truthful pictures of facts and objects of sense, than those which come through the senses ? Certainly not. Go not then, my young friends, to the fictions, or popular nov- els of the day, for a knowledge of human character, but study the thing itself. If you add to reading the habit of careful observation, you will be able to store up such facts as Avill enable you to come to wise and safe conclusions, in all ordinary cases, with regard to the character of men. You should make every man, woman, and child around you a hook, from which you make it your daily business to derive lessons of instruction. Make men your study — observe and scrutinize their conduct. Mark the connexion between their conduct and certain results — the in- fluence they exert upon society, and the means of that influence — the impressions they make, the opinions which are formed of them, and INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 39 how it all comes to pass — why it is that one man is respected, and another despised ; one loved, and another hated ; one has un- bounded influence over his fellow-men, and another is a mere cipher in society. This knowledge is gained, not by asking questions, and prying into the secrets of other men, but by critical observation and patient reflection. A young man who would gain this knowledge, must keep his eyes wide open — he must cultivate the habit of observing and classifying the smallest things. Men's deeds must be subjected to scrutiny ; and the impression they make, and the judgments we form of them, be made matter of record in the memory. 3. To these branches of knowledge add an acquaintance with the ^physical world. The history, geograpliy, and natural productions of the earth, spread out before you a wide field. Each of these themes is sufficient to occupy the study of ages. Some general knowledge of them all may, however, be at- tained by the improvement of such fragments of time, as all may command for the pur- pose. The books upon these topics are so numer- ous and voluminous, that I cannot attempt to give a catalogue of them, or even to give 40 MANLY CHARACTER. ' an opinion which would guide you in a selec- tion. It is most fortunate that we have hooks upon these several themes to suit almost every condition and capacity. To say nothing of the greatly improved text-hooks which are in use in the schools, there are condensations and compends in ahundance, which give a hold outline and a multitude of facts within a small space ; so that, in a short time, much may he learned of the world in which we live. It is not always hest to spend time upon works which profess to give multum in parvo, as they seldom give a clear view of anything. Such works as take up particular kinds of history, or the geography and productions of a particular country, are often much more instructive. As an instance of this class of puhlications, I would mention Mr. Abbott's Historical Series. 4. Finally, a competent knowledge of science and letters should, by all means, be attained. This will embrace the knowledge of philosophy — at least so far as is necessary to the useful arts ; the knowledge of history, of poetry, and of divinity. Philosophy will embrace the causes which govern matter and mind — natural, intellect- ual, moral and political philosophy. Upon INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 41 these I cannot enlarge ; even a very brief ex- position would carry me too far into details. A brief course of reading and study devoted to each of these themes, with good instruc- tions, will meet all the necessities of practical life. Even without instruction, so simple are the text-books now in use, that a sensible and studious young man may acquire a knowledge of the elements of philosophy which will qualify him to meet the ordinary exigencies of a life of business, as a farmer, a mechanic, or a merchant. In either of these depart- ments of action he will find it necessary, at least in a qualified sense, to be a philosopher. If possible, every young man should study chemistry, natural philosophy, intellectual philosophy, botany, geology, moral philos- ophy, and political economy, in an academy under good instructions ; but where this is not practicable, he should avail himself of the best aids possible, and try to secure a compe- tent knowledge of these branches without regular instructions. As to divinity, or the science* of religion, no one, who has a soul, should neglect it. Not that every one can or should become a divine, in the technical sense of that term ; but every one should not only be well ac- quainted with the Scriptures, but also with 42 MANLY CHARACTER. the best theological writers. His own de- nominational literature should be thoroughly studied and well understood. In the midst of so much confusion and discord as prevail in the Christian world, it is almost a matter of necessity that every intelligent Christian man should " be ready to give a reason for the hope that is in him with meekness and fear.'' The means of attaining this knowledge arc abundant, and well adapted to the purpose. The Sabbath school is the commencement of the process. The preaching of the gospel carries forward the learner in his inquiries. Then there is an indefinite number and va- riety of books devoted to the discussion of both the doctrinal and practical points of the- ology, suited to all classes of minds. No indi- vidual can be well instructed in Christian doctrine, without much reading and study. The labour will, however, be abundantly compensated in the results which will fol- low. Having now given you a brief summary of the materials which constitute the furniture of the mind, or the matter of knowledge — that with which it is highly desirable and absolutely necessary you should have a con- siderable acquaintance, if you would be men INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 43 in understanding — I now proceed to the second general division of my theme. II. To intellectual manhood, practical wis- dom is necessary. By practical wisdom, I mean the power of applying and appropriating the elements of knowledge, or the facts and principles stored up in the mind. The process involves reflec- tion, with all the mental operations necessary to processes of reasoning. Coleridge says : " There is one art, of which every man should be master — the art of reflection. If you are not a thinking man, to what purpose are you a man at all T^ And again, — "Let it not be forgotten, that the powers of the understanding and the intel- lectual graces are precious gifts of God ; and that every Christian, according to the oppor- tunities vouchsafed to him, is bound to culti- vate the one and to acquire the other." The mind may be ever so richly stored with facts, but unless it has the power of using them they are of no avail. They would be like undiscovered treasures in the bowels of the earth, or like the talent hid in the earth in a napkin. There are men Avho have a vast amount of knowledge, but no qualifica- tions for active service in any department of social life. The facts which they have learn- 44 MANLY CHARACTER. ed, perhaps at great expense of money and labour, are like useless lumber stoAved away in a garret. They have science, but they are not able to reason ; they have almost bound- less knowledge, but it tells not upon the inter- ests of society. Reasoning consists of generalization, analy- sis, comparison, and judgment. The power of carrying forward a process of reasoning depends upon the power of attention, reflec- tion, philosophical associations, mental ab- straction, and what may be called mental te- nacity, or a power of following out our mental processes through a series of propositions, tracing the relations, both near and remote, of all the steps of the process, from axioms or first principles, to the most distant con- clusions. To treat the subject a little more practically, the following general rules will be found important, and, if followed, will secure the end I have in view — the attainment of a power and facility in reasoning, which will place you among men of mature and elevated intelligence. 1. Let your object be truth. No man has any sufficient motive for being in the wTong. Truth is an attribute of God. Christ says . " I am the truth.'' As a principle in morals, it stands among the first. It is the end of INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 45 divine revelation, and the means of human elevation. Every one, like Pilate, should ask, "What is truth ?^^ but, unlike him, should be ready to follow its decisions with- out fear or favour. The devil is a liar, and the father of lies; and those who would be like him should disregard the truth. 2. In all your inquiries and discussions, en- deavour to have a clear and correct view of the question under consideration. Without this, you will labour in vain to convince others. A thousand wordy wars have been waged, and long prosecuted, w^hen, if the combatants had only understood the real question at issue, it would have been evident that there was nothing to contend about. 3. Avoid fallacious reasoning. A great philosopher says, " Truth never was indebted to a lie.^^ If the truth cannot be sustained by fair means, let it go. This, however, is not the case. The arts of sophistry are never necessary in a good cause ; and a point gained by such means might better have been lost. It is much better that a truth should be dis- paraged for a time than that the minds of men should be warped by the arts of false reasoning. Sophistical reasoning also does immense injury to the person who employs it, — lessening his reverence for truth, and 46 MANLY CHARACTER. diminishing liis power of legitimate processes of reasoning. Hence, avoid the use of equivocal terms when it is possible ; and when it is not, ex- plain the sense in which you employ them. Neglect this rule, and you will find you are often disputing about words. Not unfre- quently the most bitter controversies are car- ried on for a long time, when the whole quarrel grows out of the use of several equivocal terms, to which one party attributes one sense, and the other another. 4. Never contend merely for victory. The object is too trivial for an immortal and responsible being. Whether I am a more skilful disputant than another man, is a mat- ter of small consequence. The interests of truth can have no concern whatever with that question. Besides, it might be dangerous to succeed in making the worse appear the better reason. It might pervert weak minds, and certainly it would not help to improve your own. I once knew a strong man take what he considered the wrong side in a debate, and handle the argument so skilfully as to defeat his opponents, and finally convert himself. If he were right at first, his victory was an evil that probably was never remedied. 5. Give the reasons of an opponent all due INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 47 consideration — look at tliem in their strong- est light. It is shameful for a disputant to set himself at work, in the first place, to mis- represent an opponent — misstate his argu- ment, and then proceed to demolish it. This is setting up a man of straw, and shooting at it. Such a course always spoils a cause. Intelligent ohservers will naturally infer that you are in the wrong, when you adopt this course : for it is natural to conclude, when an argument is first misstated and perverted, and then answered, that it cannot be answered by fair means. Most of the discussions of our times, particu- larly those which are of a political nature, are marked by the most flagrant violation of some, or all, of these rules. Our political scribblers are mere gladiators, contending for victory. The one who can throw the most dust is the best fellow. Not truth, but victory and the spoils, are the objects they have in view ; and the means they employ are worthy of the cause in which they are engaged, and answer to the end they propose to accomplish. Many of the religious controversies which have disturbed the harmony of the Churches, are sadly marred by the same neglect of the legitimate rules of fair reasoning. Confine polemics to the mode of discussion which is 48 MANLY CHARACTER. here contended for, and religious wars would be " few and far between.'^ All tlie religious controversies would be confined to fundamen- tals. The questions would concern the truth of the great foundation principles of Christian- ity ; the war would not be between one ortho- dox Christian and another, but between Chris- tianity and infidelity, and between orthodoxy and heresy. Argumentation between ortho- dox Christians would be mutually instructive, and would lead to a nearer approximation of different denominations of Christians, and not to a wider separation. The above rules of reasoning apply to cases where mind is in contact with mind, and are designed to regulate the conduct of the parties in a debate, or the discussion of questions about which there are differences of opinion. Prac- tical wisdom not only covers all such cases, but also all questions which we are to settle for ourselves and upon our own reflections, in which we may or may not be principally concerned, but which are settled by ourselves and not by associated bodies or the public at large. Such are all matters which relate to our private business, and rest upon our own responsibility. Such are all questions of mere expediency and of policy. Such are all matters of mere taste and fitness — questions as to the best method INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 49 of doing tilings. A sound discretion — the power of coming to decisions in such matters that we shall not find occasion to regret or re- tract, and which men of sense will approve — is practical wisdom. The power to bring from a well-stored mind facts and principles applicable to all occasions and emergencies, characterizes the manly in- telligence, which is the point at which you are to aim. You must be able to act wisely and to converse intelligently on all occasions. To this will be necessary a fund of knowledge and a tact for bringing it into use. This is to be men in understanding. How necessary this intellectual manhood is to a manly character, I need not attempt to show. No one need despair of reaching the high intellectual eminence here insisted upon. " The very heights in social and commer- cial life are accessible to all, from whatever low level they commence the ascent. The grandfather of the late Sir Eobert Peel was, at one time, a journeyman cotton-spinner. He that laid the foundation of the greatness and wealth of the Arkwright family, was a barber. Carey, one of the greatest linguists and missionaries of modern times, was a cob- bler. Stephenson, the great engineer and first constructer of railways, was a vender of 50 MANLY CHARACTER. matches. No one knows what openings God may set before him in life ; and should he not he prepared to take advantage of them? Yes; this very preparation, in many cases, makes the opening.^' — James, ' The time when mere ignoramuses can pass themselves off as men has passed away. It is becoming more and more difficult for a young man to take a fair position in society, and suc- ceed in any department of business, without a capability of drawing upon the stores of a well- furnished mind as need requires. Times are changing ; the race is improving ; the masses are rising ; education and general intelligence are affecting the whole population. Ignorance of men and things, of practical philosophy, of the history of the world, of the doctrines and forms of religion, and of current events, is now positively disgraceful, and is reason enough why any young man of ordinary opportunities can have no honourable place in good society, and have little or no influence. That great philosopher, John Locke, re- marks : " How men, whose plentiful fortunes allow them leisure to improve their under- standings, can satisfy themselves with a lazy ignorance, I cannot tell ; but methinks they have a low opinion of their souls, who lay out all their income in provision for the body and INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 51 employ none of it to procure the means and helps of knowledge — who take great care to appear always in a neat and splendid article, and would think themselves miserable in coarse clothes or a patched coat, and yet contentedly suffer their minds to appear abroad in a pie- bald livery of coarse patches and borrowed shreds, such as it has pleased chance or their country tailor — I mean the common opinion of those they have conversed with — to clothe them in. I will not mention how unreason- able this is for men that ever think of a future state, and their concernment in it, which no rational man can avoid to do sometimes.^' Again he says : '' There is a certain season when our minds may be enlarged ; when a vast stock of useful truths may be acquired ; when our passions will readily submit to the govern- ment of reason ; when right principles may be so fixed in us, as to influence every important action of our future lives : but the season for this extends neither to the w^hole, nor to any considerable length of our continuance upon earth ; it is limited to a few years of our term ; and if throughout these we neglect it, error or ignorance is, according to the ordinary course of things, entailed upon us. Our will becomes our law ; our lusts gain a strength, which we afterwards vainly oppose : wrong inclinations 52 MANLY CHARACTER. become so confirmed in us, that they defeat all our endeavours to correct them/' Would you be a man for the times, bestir yourself; look about you, and see how much there is to be learned before you are prepared to take a part in the grand strife of the nine- teenth century. " Knowledge is power/' The father of the experimental philosophy never uttered a greater truth. Would you have power to accumulate or to appropriate — power to get good or to do good — acquire knowledge. ** In understanding be ye men.'' Would you seek refined and elevated pleas- ure, cultivate your understanding. "What," says the great Koman philosopher and orator, Cicero, " are the pleasures of a luxurious table, of games, of shows, of sensuality, when com- pared with those resulting from the study of letters ? — a study which, in men of sense and good education, still increases in charms with their years. Whence that fine saying of Solon, that he grew old, still every day learn- ing something new. Certainly no enjoyment can surpass this pleasure of the mind." — De Senect INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 53 IIL-INTELLECTUAL MMHOOD-CONTmUED. THE IMAGINATION. " FOR THE LORD SEARCHETH ALL HEARTS, AND UNDERSTANDETH ALL THE IMAGINATIONS OF THE THOUGHTS. — LORD GOI> OF ABRAHAM, ISAAC, AND OF ISRAEL, KEEP THIS FOREVER IS THE IMAGINATION OF THE THOUGHTS OF THE HEART OF THY PEO- PLE, AND PREPARE THEIR HEART UNTO THEE." — 1 CHRON. xxvin, 9 ; XXIX, 18. The imagination constitutes so important a portion of our mental states, that I have thought best to give it separate consideration. The state of mind or power called imagination, is the power which the mind possesses of group- ing its conceptions in new relations, or of originating new accidents of existing things. Pictures of the imagination, by authors upon the subject, are presumed to be above nature. For instance : " A painter, bj this process, de- picts a landscape, combining the beauties of various real landscapes, and excluding their defects. A poet or a novelist, in the same manner, calls into being a fictitious character, endowed with those qualities with which it suits his purpose to invest him, places him in con- tact with others equally imaginary, and ar- ranges, according to his will, the scenes in which he shall bear a part and the line of con- 54 MANLY CHARACTER. duct lie shall follow. The compound, in these eases, is entirely fictitious and arbitrary ; but it is expected that the individual elements shall be such as actually occur in nature, and that the combination shall not differ remarkably from what might really happen.^^ — Abercroni- hie. An example of this is seen in Milton's description of the garden of Eden. "1. It is the activity of the mind which, with ease and freedom, unites different images or creates new ones, having been furnished with the materials for them by sensation and conception. Such images of imagination are those of Amazons, Cyclops, sirens, fairies, elves, giants, and dwarfs. These images can- not be seen in nature ; they are, therefore, in one respect, new, and yet the parts of which they consist are furnished by sensation and perception, and consequently met with out of us. " 2. Imagination is the power to call forth images for the purpose of clothing an idea or thought which arises in the mind. The images thus called forth may be variously modified to render them appropriate vehicles of thought. This no one will dispute who is aware that, as the mind constantly grows in cultivation, its conceptions must likewise become more correct, so that as often as they are reproduced, they INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 55 will bear the impress of the mind's improve- ment. Imagination then, is the power which modifies the images once received, creates new ones of them, and gives them contents which do not originally hehng to them. " Some examples will show this more satis- factorily. I think of strength ; my imagina- tion, being lively, seeks for an image by which to express it ; it takes the image of the lion, places its thought in it, and thus the lion be- comes the symbol of strength. Again, the idea that man, if left to himself, is without any knowledge of heavenly things, and cannot speak concerning them, is a thought produced by reflection. This thought imagination de- sires to represent in an external form. It therefore creates an image to which it gives it as its contents. The Egyptian statue of Mem- non was the symbol thus created. It was made of marble, its fac^ turned towards the rising sun, and it gave forth lovely sounds when the first rays fell upon it. So man is mute and dead till heavenly light awakens him. Guido represents a pious and beautiful virgin sitting alone at her needle; two angels attend her. What does this mean? Innocence and dili- gence are honoured by heavenly spirits. " The contents placed in an image may be a number or cluster of thoughts, and then, in- 66 MANLY CHARACTER. stead of one, we must have many images. When connected it is called an allegory. The thought that man consists of soul and hody, is connected with the idea that whatever he is in regard to intellect, he is by having freed himself from his animal passions. The Egyp- tian sphinx is an allegorical representation of this ; in it the head of a woman grows forth and rests on a hody composed of parts of dif- ferent animals mingled with each other. This means that humanity, here represented by a woman, must, by its own power, emerge from the dominion of animal desires. Or Eros, love, sitting upon a lion, strength, and guiding him with a silken cord, moderation, shows that love softens the strongest. Cerberus, with three heads, and Argus, with a hundred eyes, ex- press the ideas that watchfulness must look in every direction. The centaur is a symbol of prudence, swiftness, and considerateness. " From this it must sufficiently appear that imagination, as the basis of arts, creates an unreal but powerful and beautiful world. By it all objects and images receive ideal subsis- tence, and there is nothing too good to become the receptacle in which imagination may place the contents of the mind. While the man of business sees nothing in spring but flowers and hills, the eye of imagination perceives in the INTELLECTUAL MANIIOOB. 57 flowers and ornamented hills the connubial garlands of spring; when the former hears nothing but the noise of a running brook, imagination hears the murmuring waters ex- press their joy that they are no longer chained by the ice, but have been freed by spring, to which they sing their song.^' — Psychology, hy Rev, jP. a. Ranch The sense of the Hebrew word rendered imagination, is in striking conformity with the scholastic definition. According to Gesenius, the Hebrew word, rendered imagination, is figuratively used for " what is formed in the mind^^ — that is, a creation of the mind. The work of the mind in this case does not consist in originating the materials of the conception, but in forming or creating the arrangement and relations of those materials. The thing created ** in the mind^' is wholly ideal, having no existence in the world of realities. This definition has its most apt illustra- tions in the creations of poets and novel- ists. Verbal addresses clothed in the lan- guage of trope and metaphor, and calculated to excite strong emotions, furnish another in- stance of the same class. Efforts of imagination of this class, have for their object gratification or pleasure, more than instruction. The object is to produce 58 MANLY CHARACTER. pleasurable emotions. Most persons seek ex- citement, and pursue their own personal grati- fication ; and hence the position which works of imagination have in the public mind, and the interest with which imaginative speakers are sought after. It is the book that makes you weep or laugh ; and the orator that stirs up the soul, and fills it with emotion, by the means of novel and unexpected associations, that are sought after by the masses. The power of forming combinations calcu- lated to produce deep feeling, and to awaken the soul to high resolves and deeds of noble daring, constitutes a great genius. The power of invention, consisting in the exercise of the imagination, is applied to the investigations of science. It has much to do in the mathe- matics, and has been employed in contriving experiments, and in the construction of theo- ries, which have led to the most important discoveries. Such theories have often been founded in true philosophy, and have stood the test of experiments ; but they have not unfrequently been wholly baseless, and have led their advocates into the wildest vagaries. The old alchemists held, that all metals were mere compounds, the baser of them contain- ing the same constituents as gold ; and that by removing their impurities, they might be INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 59 made to assume the properties and value of that precious metal. The change, they sup- posed, could be effected by what was termed lapis philosophorum, or the philosopher's stone. The hypothesis of the alchemists was base- less — the philosopher's stone wholly imagin- ary ; and so far as their specific object was concerned, all the experiments of this class of fictitionists proved failures. A multitude of harebrained theorists, very much like the ancient sect of philosophers here referred to, liave figured in every age of the world, and our own times are not without them. The imagination is a very important func- tion of the mind. It is concerned in all pro- cesses of reasoning. It involves the power of i relative suggestion and association, which are essential constituents in all reasoning. With- out imagination, the mind would simply at- tend to facts as they present themselves to the senses or the understanding, without con- sidering their relations and connexions. Per- sons who are deficient in imagination, are usually denominated matter-of-fact men. They never hazard an experiment ; they are de- ficient in enterprise ; they make no improve- ments upon existing theories, or the modes of pursuing the ends of life. They stand pre- cisely where stood their sires and their grand- 60 MANLY CHARACTER. sires in times past. If all men had been like tliem, the great improvements of this wonderful age would never have existed. We should have been without the steam-engine, the spinning-jenny, the magnetic telegraph, and a thousand other facilities for the progress * of the world. Vigour of reasoning, quickness of percep- tion, and" what may be called a practical character, depend upon a vigorous imagination. That which stimulates the mind to activity, and hastens it on in its processes of connecting causes and effects, antecedents and sequents, and enables it to bring together the more distant relations, must certainly be a highly > important element in all processes of reason- ing, and should have special attention in sys- tems of education. The effectiveness of the reasoning powers will much depend upon an early and proper training of the imagination. Where there is a natural or constitutional deficiency in the power of imagination, it may be greatly aided by suitable excitement. Eeading the poets — Homer, Yirgil, Milton, Cowper, Pollok, and others similar in their character — will be found extremely useful to this end. Such minds want the guidance of wise counsellors, who understand their neces- sities, and are qualified to give them timely INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 61 and effective aid. Without the proper aid, their improvement will be sIoav, and it will be a wonder if they are no better than blanks in the world to the end of life. The sympathies of the human heart, upon which so much depends in our intercourse with society, depend much upon the imagina- tion. Properly to feel sympathy for the suf-^ fering, we must put ourselves into their circumstances, or imagine ourselves to be similarly situated. We must make their troubles our own ; their anguish of spirit must be transferred to our own souls. Then we shall know what it is to love another as we love ourselves. We shall sympathize with the mass, and bear the burdens of our breth- ren who groan under the chastening rod of the Almighty. The more fully Ave can con- ceive a transfer of circumstances with the afflicted, the more lively will be our sympa- thy, and the more prompt and effective our interference for their relief. A great amount of our happiness arises from the imagination. The strength of faith and the vividness of hope are much assisted by the power of making their objects real. Eeal- izing spiritual things is simply a vivid con- ception of them. " Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not 62 MANLY CHARACTER. seen." The realization of the things which are distant and not seen, in this case, is a lively conception, inspired and strengthened by the Spirit. How much of spiritual enjoy- ment depends upon this, I need not now say. The same is true of all those natural de- lights which arise from hope, in relation to our worldly prospects. Be these hopes ever so well founded, it is the work of the imagina- tion to make the objects of them a present reality, and to make them a source of pleas- ure. AVithout hope, the stimulus to exer- tion is wanting. It is hope that keeps the heart whole. The man of business, the scholar, the politician — indeed all classes of men — are influenced by hope at every step, and without it society would become a dead mass. An active, well-regulated imagination derives en- joyment from the future — looks through all time to come, and into eternity, with bright hopes, and indulges in glorious anticipations of personal bliss and the elevation of the race. The brightest visions of God^s holy prophets are but the elevation and inspiration of the imagination by the Spirit of God, which seems to make the future present, and imparts to it the assurance of certainty. After these views of the nature and import- ance of the imagination, it remains that some- INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 63 thing be said upon its morbid state, and the manner in which that state may be guarded against. This is a matter of great practi- cal importance, and will be treated at some length. A diseased imagination is sometimes the offspring of physical causes, and, consequently, is not always to be prevented by any mode or amount of mental discipline. In a healthy condition of the physical system, the functions of the imagination become disturbed through excessive excitement or over-action. Some casts of mind are far more liable to diseases of the imagination than others. Where the sensitive predominates over the rational — where there is a stronger susceptibility of feeling than there is power of reasoning — any considerable excitement of the imagination is likely to disturb the balance of the mind, and give it an undue preponderance. Wlien that preponderance becomes strong and de- cided, it is followed by certain irregularities, which are denominated diseased action. The phenomena of diseased imagination are ex- ceedingly curious ; and for your instruction, and not merely for your amusement, I will here introduce several instances of the class : — " Dr. Gall has extracted from Fodere^s 64 MANLY CHARACTER. Memoir of M. Savarj : * A carpenter, forty- seven years old, Avith every appearance of good health, was assailed by a crowd of strange and incoherent ideas. He often imagined himself fluttering in the air, or traversing smiling fields, apartments, old chateaus, woods, and gardens, which he had seen in his infancy. Sometimes he seemed to be walking in public courts, places, and other spots that were known to him. While at work, the moment he was going to strike his axe at a given place, an idea would pass through his head, make him lose sight of his object, and he would strike somewhere else. He once rose at midnight to go to Versailles, and found himself there without being sensible of having made this journey. None of these hallucinations pre- vent the patient from reasoning correctly. He is astonished, and laughs at himself for all these fantastic visions, but still is un- able to withdraw himself from their influ- ence.' '^ Madam de Stael gives us the following curious account of Kousseau, the great infidel philosopher : — " Sometimes he would part with you with all his former affection ; but, if an expression had escaped you which might bear an unfavourable construction, he would recol- lect it, examine it, exaggerate it, perhaps INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 65 dwell upon it for a month, and conclude by a total breach with you. Hence it was that there was scarce a possibility of undeceiving him ; for the light which broke in upon him at once was not sufficient to efface the wrono* impressions which had taken place so gradu- ally in his mind. It was extremely difficult, too, to continue long on an intimate footing with him. A word, a gesture, furnished him with matter of profound meditation ; he con- nected the most trifling circumstances like so many mathematical propositions, and con- ceived his conclusions to be supported by the evidence of demonstration. " I believe (she further remarks) that im- agination was the strongest of his faculties, and that it had almost absorbed all the rest. He dreamed rather than existed, and the events of his life might be said more properly to have passed in his mind than without him — a mode of being, one should have thouglit, that ought to have secured him from distrust, as it prevented him from observation ; but the truth was, it did not hinder him from attempting to observe — it only rendered his observations erroneous. That his soul was tender, no one can doubt after having read his works ; but his imagination sometimes interposed between his reason and hiji affec- 66 MANLY CHARACTER. tions, and destroyed their influence: lie ap- peared sometimes void of sensibility, but it was because he did not perceive objects such as they were. Had he seen them with our eyes, his heart would have been more affected than ours.'' — Upham's Disordered Mental Ac- tion. Dean Swift tells us of " a gentleman of his acquaintance, who was ill-used by a mercer in town," and who " wrote him a letter, in an unknown hand, to give him notice that care had been taken to convey a slow poison into his drink, which would infallibly kill him in a month ; after which the man began in earnest to languish and decay, by the mere strength of imagination, and would certainly have died, if care had not been taken to unde- ceive him before the jest went too far.'' M. Chabanon says : — " Twice, when listening to the notes of the organ, or to sacred music, have I thought myself transported into heav- en ; and this vision had something so real in it, and I was so carried out of myself while it lasted, that the actual presence of the objects could not have had upon me a stronger effect." — Philosophy of Magic, vol. ii, p. 73. I have known many curious instances of the same class, one or two of which may be ad- missible in this place. At one of my appoint- INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 67 ments, more than thirty years since, there was a great awakening among the people. A wicked young man, who was engaged in making shingles, some six miles from the settlement, in a dense pine wood, saw the Devil, with his cloven foot, fiery eyes, and barbed tail ! The old dragon came into his shanty in the night, and conducted himself after such a sort that the poor solitary occu- pant was well-nigh frightened out of his wits. The fright was succeeded by penitence, and penitence by a sound conversion. Not long after, one of the companions of this young man, after being out late at night gambling, having retired to bed, was visited by the same terrible figure, who brandished around the room his pitchfork, and then pulled the cards from his hat, where they lay rolled up in a silk handkerchief, and scattered them over the floor. He, too, was frightened into seriousness, and told me the story. A short time after this I visited the place, and after I had retired to bed, late in the evening, I was hastily sent for to visit a woman who had also seen the old Wicked 07ie, When I entered the room I found her in a great fright, trembling and screeching, and clinging to her husband, as if sh e expe cted 68 MANLY CHARACTER. every moment to be dragged away to her account. I prayed with her, and tried to quiet her mind, but to very little purpose. She imagined she saw a huge black figure come down the chimney, and gaze at her with his fiery eyes, and whichever way she turned he seemed to be before her. The first was a case of sound conversion, and was, according to my views, none the less an instance of a vision of the imagination. The other two soon recovered themselves, and became as careless as ever. The report of the first case was the occasion of the other two — serving as the means of exciting their imagi- nation, and temporarily both of overturning reason and deceiving the senses. In the explanation I give of these singular facts, I by no means would cast a doubt over the existence of evil spirits, or the personal existence of the great arch-fiend — the facts are settled in the Scriptures; but supposing Satan a reasoning being, and seeing no grounds for believing that he would so ap- pear to his children as to frighten them from his service, I cannot consider these as in- stances of his real personal appearance. The facts are capable of explanation upon the known laws of mind ; and this mode of ex- plaining what transpires is always to be pre- INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 69 ferred when it is possible. If, as I suppose, they were the result of an excited imagina- tion, then they are specimens of the power of conscience, through the fancy, to inflict the most fearful torture. How came these per- sons liable to be haunted by such terrible visions, if it were not true that they had deep convictions of having provoked the divine dis- pleasure, and exposed themselves to be hur- ried away to the place " prepared for the Devil and his angels ?'' And if conscience may send such a light through the soul as to present to the mind of the sinner such fearful forms of merited vengeance, while he lives upon earth, what will be its power in another world, when it will act in the light of eternity? Such alarms as this inward monitor now awakens in the sinner's imagination, are the mere shadows of the realities which are before him. There is another form in which diseases of the imagination are developed, which has its origin in physical derangement. This form is denominated hypochondria. There are many amusing accounts in the books, of the curious freaks of the imagination under the influence of this disease ; but we will mention one, which has never been published. An old friend of ours, at intervals was awfully afflicted with this malady. As he was re- 70 MANLY CHARACTER. turning home, on a certain occasion, all at once he acquired, as he supposed, an enor- mous size. He was as tall as the trees, and looked down from this great elevation upon the top of his own house. Now, thought he, I must live the rest of my life out of doors, for I cannot get into the house. He plodded his way along, in sad case, through the gate, and out came his little grandson, shouting, *' Here comes grandpa !^^ and, in the twink- ling of an eye, he collapsed into his natural dimensions. We arrange under this same category the phenomena of ghost-seeing, second-sight, and all of reality there is in the wonderful influ- ences of mesmerism. The imagination he- comes heated and disordered, and hence the strange impressions, revelations, and what not. The ex2)lanation of these phenomena is this : the imagination hecomes more active than the reason, or even the senses. Hence, the impressions of the imagination are not corrected, as they are, when in hut an ordi- nary state of activity, by the reason and the senses. The victim of this disordered state of mind is sure that all his impressions are true, and declares, most sincerely, that he sees and hears what really has no existence ; INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 71 and the ignorant stare, and know not what in the world to make of it. The imagination often controls both the will and muscular motion. Its power over the nervous system is most marvellous. I can, however, give no more illustrations, but must leave you to read for yourselves, in works on psychology and mental philosophy, whatever may be necessary to a complete view of the subject. The instances given above clearly belong to the head of diseased imagination. There is another class of cases, somewhat modified, of equal importance in a practical point of view, to which I shall now call your atten- tion. They are cases of unduly excited imagi- nation. One instance of this class is that of an inequality of mind, or a want of due balance — an exclusive devotion to one idea. The men of this class mount some particular hobby, and ride it to death — or, rather, ride it till they kill themselves. In their imagina- tions, they make the welfare of the race, and the very existence of society, to depend upon their favourite scheme. Another instance of this class may be de- nominated eastle-huilding. Concocting im- practicable schemes, and dreaming over them 7^ MANLY CHARACTER. night and day, until the sober realities of life become utterly insignificant, and the mind is only in its element while in the midst of a world of pleasant day-dreams and gorgeous pictures of wealth, honour, and glory. De- lightful fancies dazzle the sight, and splendid fictions crowd the brain, a series of splendid visions pass before the mind and excite the sensibilities ; this is thought to be possible, that probable, and the other quite certain. Keason is dethroned, and soon the wretched dreamer is deemed a fair candidate for the mad house. Still another form in which the high excite- ment and undue action of the imagination show themselves, is that of reckless speculations, A man of business flourishes for a while, and seems to be in the high road to wealth; a pressure in the money market comes on, and he fails for a hundi'ed thousand dollars. Some set him down for a regular-built scoundrel; while those who are alone competent to judge in the case, consider him a victim of baseless calculations, — an adventurous genius, — one wliose imagination had become rampant, and had turned reason and common-sense out of doors. When the imagination is excited by strong temptations to do wrong, the moral sense, or INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 73 conscience, is liable to be undermined. When conscience becomes blinded, or diseased, by some cause, which leads the imagination astray, then it may be said to be corrupted. It is probably true that all vicious actions, which are deliberately done, are first acted over in the imagination. The images of a cer- tain species of wrong take possession of the imagination, and are there mixed up with a thousand sweets ; the bait is gilded, and assumes every pleasant hue ; a scene is created in which the lights are placed in bold relief, while the shades are far in the background, scarcely visible. The imagina- tion is occupied with this scene, and by it excited and heated, day after day, and, per- haps, for years, before the dreadful result develops itself. The public mind is often shocked by in- stances of outrageous wickedness, perpetrated by individuals of considerable respectability. Funds are embezzled, virtue is assaulted, or a murder is committed, by some one not sus- pected capable of any such outrages upon morals. If the history of the mind and heart of the transgressor could be read, it would be seen that the immediate occasion of the ofiPence merely brought out, or matured, what had been a thousand times enacted in the 74 MANLY CHARACTER. imagination. The real fall was not sudden, but gradual, having its incipient stages and its growth in the workings" of the imagi- nation. I once read the confession of a murderer which was something like this. He had led a rather loose life, but had not distinguished himself for any flagrant offence. Unaccount- ably to himself he was seized with the idea of murder ; the idea haunted him until it was invested with a sort of charm. It finally be- gat a desire to do the deed, but it was long before he formed the fatal purpose. After some years of cherishing this imagination, circumstances transpired which furnished oc- casion for carrying it into effect, and then he committed the fatal act. Perhaps all the while the seed of death was vegetating in this man's mind, he was taken for anything but a murderer. I have no idea that any one falls all at once from a high state of religion or virtue to the low depths of iniquity. There may indeed be instances of sad departure from the rules of rectitude, under the influence of surprise; but these are exceedingly rare. Most of the terri- ble apostasies from religious purity and from social decency are long in reaching maturity ; and the sin by which disgrace and ruin come, INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 75 have been frequently enacted in the mind. As this is the most unobserved and inscrutable of all the departments of moral character, ifc is the first point to be assailed, and the first sur- rendered to the enemy. The obvious reflection suggested by all these instances of diseased, heated, and vitiated im- agination, is that it is of the greatest import- ance, especially for a young man, to avoid the causes which work such perversions of the soul ; several of these I will now proceed to notice. Bad associations, familiarity with scenes of vice, have a tendency to excite and corrupt the heart. The images of such scenes will remain in the mind long after the time of observing them, and will furnish materials for it to prey upon. The very memory of them is danger- ous, but their constant presence in the imagi- nation is certain to make impressions upon the moral feelings which will be more or less in- jurious, and which may break over all the bar- riers of conscience. Corrupt conversation — profane or obscene language — will be productive of the same evil influences as corrupting scenes. That young man who listens to the ribaldry of the vulgar exposes himself to the influence of a cause which may ultimately plunge him into the 7G MANLY CHARACTER. mire. Words, like things, fasten themselves npon the memory, and furnish the materials for conceptions, which, by the laws of associa- tion, may be wrought up into pictures, and exercise a mighty influence over the char- acter. A more fruitful source of undue excitement and corruption is bad books. Corrupt litera- ture is the most fruitful source of mischief, be- cause it comes into contact with the mind in secret, when free from the restraints of public sentiment or the delicacy which influences the mind while in the presence of society. Its im- pressions are deeper than those of observation or conversation, because they may be held longer before the mind ; they are not so fugi- tive and transient, but are kept in their posi- tion until, like the solar burning-glass, con- centrating their rays upon one single point, they produce combustion. The class of publications which are the most insidious, and consequently the most danger- ous, is that of popular novels. These ^re properly works of imagination. They detail imaginary scenes, and are designed to excite the imagination of the reader. When the imagery of these compositions is so extrava- gant as to be false to nature, and when they are of a licentious or of an infidel character INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 77 they are *'evil, only evil, and that continually." Even the better class of novels are often ex- ceedingly mischievous. Sensitive minds — and most young minds are so — are always too highly excited by the extraordinary circumstances of the tale. The effect is to give the imagina- tion a prei)onderance over the reason. The following sentiments from JDean Swift, him- self the author of strange and injurious ro- mances, are w^orthy of consideration : — " When a man's fancy gets astride on his reason, Tvhen imagination is at cuffs with the senses, and common understanding, as well as common-sense, is kicked out of doors, the first proselyte he makes is himself; and when that is once compassed, the difficulty is not so great in bringing over others — a strong de- lusion always operating from ivithout as vigor- ously as from witMn, For cant and vision are to the ear and the eye the same that tickling is to the touch. Those entertainments and pleasures we most value in life, are such as dupe and play the wag with the senses. With relation to the mind and understanding it is manifest what mighty advantages fiction has over truth ; and the reason is just at our elbow — because imagination can build nobler scenes and produce more wonderful revolu- tions than fortune or nature will be at ex- 78 MANLY CHARACTER. pense to furnish." — Digression Concerning Madness. About to the same purpose are the follow- ing paragraphs from two of the greatest thinkers of any past age. John Foster says : *' The influence of this habit of dwelling on the beautiful fallacious forms of imagination will accompany the mind into the most serious speculations, or rather musings, on the real world, and what is to be done in it, and ex- pected ; as the image which the eye acquires ■from looking at any dazzling object still ap- pears before it wherever it turns. The vulgar materials that constitute the actual economy of the world will rise up to its sight in fictitious forms, which it cannot disenchant into plain reality, nor will even suspect to be deceptive. It cannot go about with sober, rational inspec- tion, and ascertain the nature and value of all things around it. Indeed, such a mind is not disposed to examine with any careful minute- ness the real condition of things. It is con- tent with ignorance, because environed with something more delicious than such knowledge in the paradise which imagination creates. In that paradise it walks delighted, till some imperious circumstance of real life call it thence, and gladly escapes thither again when the avocation is past. There everything is INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 79 "beautiful and noble as could be desired to form the residence of an angel. If a tenth part of the felicities that have been enjoyed, the great actions that have been performed, the benefi- cent institutions that have been established, and the beautiful objects that have been seen in that happy region, could have been imported into this terrestrial place, what a delightful thing it would have been to awake each morn- ing to see such a world once more.^^ To the same purpose Dr. Johnson says : '* To indulge the power of fiction, and send imagina- tion out upon the wing, is often the sport of those who delight too much in silent specula- tion. He who has nothing external that can divert him must find pleasure in his own thoughts, and must conceive himself what he is not, — for who is pleased with what he is ? He then expatiates in boundless futurity, and culls from all imaginable conditions that which for the present moment he should most desire ; amuses his desires with impossible enjoyments, and confers upon his pride unattainable do- minion. The mind dances from scene to scene, unites all pleasures in all combinations, and riots in delights which nature and fortune, with all their bounty, cannot bestow. In time, some particular train of ideas fixes the atten- tion ; all other intellectual gratifications are 80 MANLY CHARACTER. rejected ; the mind, in weariness of leisure, re- curs constantly to the favourite conception, and feasts on the luscious falsehood whenever she is offended with the bitterness of truth. By degrees the reign of fancy is confirmed ; she grows first imperious, and in time despotic. Then fictions begin to operate as realities, false opinions fasten upon the mind, and life passes in dreams of rapture or of anguish." — JRasselas. You will excuse one more authority upon this subject, as I am now upon debated ground, and it is very important to examine it thor- oughly. Dr. Abercrombie says : " There has been considerable difference of opinion in re- gard to the effects produced upon the mind by fictitious narrative. Without entering mi- nutely upon the merits of this controversy, I think it may be contended that two evils are likely to arise from much indulgence in works of fiction. The one is a tendency to give way to the wild play of the imagination, — a prac- tice most deleterious, both to the intellectual and moral habits. The other is a disruption of the harmony which ought to exist between the moral emotions and the conduct, — a prin- ciple of extensive and important influence. In the healthy state of the moral feelings, for ex- ample, the emotion of sympathy excited by a tale of sorrow ought to be followed by some INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 81 efforts for the relief of the sufferer. When such relations in real life are listened to from time to time without any such efforts, the emo- tion gradually becomes weakened, and that moral condition is produced which we call selfishness, or hardness of heart. Fictitious tales of sorrow appear to have a similar ten- dency — the emotion is produced without the corresponding conduct ; and when this habit has been much indulged the result seems to be, that a cold and barren sentimentalism is produced, instead of the habit of active benevo- lence. If fictitious narratives be employed for depicting scenes of vice, another evil of the greatest magnitude is likely to result from them, even though the conduct exhibited should be shown to end in remorse and misery ; for by the mere familiarity with vice, an injury is done to the youthful mind, which is in no degree compensated by the moral at the close.'' — Intellectual Powers. I have quoted the language of four of the most notable scholars and writers in the Eng- lish language upon the influence of fictitious tales upon the condition of the mind. These are great authorities; but independent of the mere influence of their names upon an import- ant question, what they say is so truthful and so amply sustained by both f^cts and philoso- 82 MANLY CHARACTER. phy, that I need scarcely enlarge upon the subject. Thus stands the general question of the influence of fictitious narrative upon the intellectual powers. The question of the in- fluence of a class of the romances of our times, Avhich constitute so great a portion of the read- ing of the people, should be put upon other grounds — I refer to those of a licentious char- acter. That a large portion of the popular novels of the day are calculated to debase and cor- rupt the imagination, I shall not undertake to prove, nor give the names of tliose which I would especially proscribe. I fear, young gentlemen, that some of you already are but too intimately acquainted with some of them. Well is it for that young man who has the good fortune to be ignorant of this whole class of injurious books ; and should there be any w^ho has meddled with this kind of litera- ture he has special reason to be thankful if he has not been singed while sporting with the flames. Would you read such books for the useful hints you may find scattered through them, and the good moral of Avhich the story may be capable, or which may be formally drawn from it? You may as well go to a sink or sewer to slake your thirst be- cause there is pure water mingled ^yith the INTELLECTUAL MANHOOD. 83 filth. Fly the whole fry of novelists, with very few and rare exceptions, as you would flee from a gang of wolves, or as you would run from the plague. Look abroad upon so- ciety and see the wrecks of novel-readers. Take the alarm and save yourselves. A lesson or two of advice, without enlarge- ment, shall close what I have to say upon this subject. Avoid strong excitement of the imagination ; curb it by reason and conscience ; avoid all agencies which have a tendency to corrupt it. Be assured that its proper man- agement is necessary to the formation of char- acter, in the proper sense, manly. 84 MANLY CHARACTER. IV -EMOTIONAL MASHOOD. **HE THAT HATH NO RULE OVER HIS OWN SPIRIT, IS LIKE A CITY THAT IS BROKEN DOWN AND WITHOUT WALLS." — PROV. XXV, 28. The art of self-government is so important to all the ends of life, that it cannot, hy any age, he too assiduously cultivated. It is specially important, that the discipline of the passions should he early commenced, that the power of self-control may grow with the growth, and strengthen with the strength, until it ripens into hahit. The young heart is impressible as well as excitable, and, hy proj)er training, may be moulded into any form, and receive any hias. The sensibilities, at this period of life, left to run riot, will soon carry away all the barriers of reason, and spoil the character, making it ** like a city that is hroken down and without walls.'' One of the essential attributes of true man- Jiood, is the supremacy of reason and conscience over the passions. Hence, young gentlemen, 1 propose, in this lecture, to give you some aid in your efforts to secure this object, hy showing its real importance to a manly char- acter, and by what means the ohject is to bo sought. EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 85, In this discussion, I shall not attempt a perfect philosophical analysis of the emotions. Mj object is to give a practical view of the subject, which shall aid young men in the necessary, but often painful process of con- quering themselves ; and consequently it will only be necessary to call attention to a few of the leading and more prominent suscepti- bilities and manifestations of the heart. A large class of these may be arranged under the head of desires. Among our natural desires may be classed the animal appetites. We have appetites in common with the lower grades of animals. These are given us for good purposes, being designed by our Creator to subserve the ends of life, and being in themselves perfectly harmless — th^ harm of their indulgence being in their unlawful use or their abuse — it is not a question whether they may lawfully seek gratification, but how far, and under what circumstances, they may be gratified. The irrational animal may in- dulge them without any other restraint than those of natural instincts, while men can only do so Avithin the bounds of reason, or the limits prescribed by God in his law. The trans- gression of these limits constitutes either glut- tony, drunkenness, or libertinism, according 86 MANLY CHARACTEK. to the object which they seek, and is always a violation of the higher faculties, and, con- sequently, is unmanly. What a sad spectacle it is to see a young man enslaved by either of these vices, and yet how common is the sight ! The process of sacrificing manhood to the baser passions, is easy and natural. Hence the danger, and the necessity of great vigi- lance upon the part of the young and inex- perienced. Society and social enjoyments, not properly guarded, constitute the track which leads to the stagnant pool of unbridled lust and beastly indulgence. Improper asso- ciations are the gins of Satan, in which the unwary are taken and ruined. At first a little indulgence is all that is thought of, and all that is conceded ; but the resolution con- quered once, is almost certainly prostrated by the next temptation. When the young man is solicited to visit the splendid drinking saloon, his conscience utters its remonstrances : but he says to himself,- this is the resort of respectable men, and I will only go in now for once ; surely there is little harm in step- ping into such a place with a friend. He does not seem to know that his first entrance upon that enchanted ground is the introduc- tion to a long chapter, which almost certainly follows ; it is the first step in a course which EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 87 leads, through the filthy kennels which are the resort of common drunkards, to the gut- ter, and to the drunkard's grave, and the drunkard's hell. young man ! shun the cup as you would perdition. For one of the most truthful descriptions of the miseries and ruin of those who lead a life of intemperance, see the words of Solomon : " Who hath woe ? Avho hath sorrow? who hath contentions ? who hath babbling ? 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 his colour in the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.'' Prov. xxiii, 29-32. The first in- stance of incontinence may have been the result of surprise or sudden temptation, pre- ceded by purposes not to repeat it, and to wash away its stains by immediate repentance ; but it will be a miracle of mercy if it is not suc- ceeded by a life of debauchery and an untimely death. Tour only safety is in avoiding all occasions of sin, and especially the seductive arts of those demons in female form, who, ruined themselves, seem to take pleasure in ruining as many others as possible. On this point also I refer you to Solomon. He says : 88 MANLY CHARACTER. " For the lips of a strange woman drop as a honey-comb, and her mouth is smoother than oil : but her end is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to death ; her steps take hold on hell. Lest thou shouldest ponder the path of life, her w^ays are movable, that thou canst not know them. Hear me now therefore, ye children, and depart not from the words of my mouth. Ee- move thy way far from her, and come not nigh the door of her house : lest thou give thine honour unto others, and thy years unto the cruel: lest strangers be filled with thy wealth ; and thy labours be in the house of a stranger ; and thou mourn at the last, when thy flesh and thy body are consumed, 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 instructed me ! I was almost in all evil in the midst of the congregation and assembly." Pro v. v, 3-14. Were we mere animals, with no prospect in the future but the extinction of consciousness, the maxims of prudence would teach us to avoid excesses which destroy the capacity of the physical system for healthy action, and inevitably bring on premature decay and death. He who would have health and long EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 89 life, must *' be temperate in all things.'' We, however, have higher motives for rational so- briety, than those which appeal to mere self- love. We are rational beings, and it is a degradation of our nature, a descent from the dignity of our position, to plunge into the sink of animal gratification. Our reason was given us to stand at the helm, and guide the ship ; and why should we commit ourselves to the fury of the storm, and run the risk of eternal shipwreck ? We are destined to live forever, and w^hy should we sacrifice the hopes of a happy immortality for the paltry grati- fication of a moment ? A sailor, at mast-head, was observed to falter, and was evidently be- coming dizzy, when the officer below ^cried out, " Look aloft ! '' He looked above, and his brain was soon settled, and he was safe. Young gentlemen, " look aloff Leave the sensual to mere animals, and, as for you, seek your honour, happiness, and riches, in the spiritual. " In your case there are those * youthful lusts/ from which, by apostolic injunction, you are exhorted to flee. In addition to an inflammable and prurient imagination, rash- ness and impetuosity of temper, the thought- lessness and recklessness of disposition, the pride and independence, and the headstrong 90 MANLY CHARACTER. waywardness, which are too common to youth — there are the animal appetites and propensi- ties which are now coming out in all their force ; those promptings of licentiousness and impulses of sensuality, to which there are so many incentives, and which require so strong a restraint by reason and religion. I mean, you^ig 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 alarms I can pos- sibly give. No warning can be too loud, no entreaties too importunate, in regard to this peril. Voices from the pulpit, from the hos- pital, 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 it, as from a serpent or a lion.'' — James, " Thou must chain thy passions down : Well to serve, but ill to sway, Like the fire, they must obey. They are good, in subject state. To strengthen, warm, and animate ; But if once we let them reign. They sweep with desolating train, Till they but have a hated name, A ruin'd soul, and blacken'd fame." — Eliza Cook. Another form of the passion of which I am speaking, is a desire of wealth. EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 91 Earthly treasures have tlieir place and their importance. It is our duty, by honest indus- try and prudent economy, to seek earthly goods — to make and save all that we consis- tently can. It might be a blessing to have great wealth, and the desire for it, in itself, is not sinful. It is when this desire becomes excessive, or when it degenerates into " the love of money,'' that it is wrong. This desire is usually associated with a desire for the possession of what we cannot lawfully have — of what belongs to others — this is covetous- ness, and " covetousness is idolatry.'' When the love of money becomes a pas- sion, and a habit, it destroys all the generous emotions of the heart, and constitutes a miser. The feelings and habits of a miser are usually associated with mature years, and often with old age. Young men are more exposed to an excess of liberality, than to a miserly dis- position. Still, it is not certain but the seeds of covetousness are often found in the minds of the young. Prodigality in expenses, for your own gratification, is no evidence that you may not finally become mean-spirited and miserly. It is nothing but early habits of benevolence, of enlarged philanthropy, that will effectually secure you against one of the meanest of vices when you are old. 92 MANLY CHARACTER. " cursed lust of gold ! when, for thy sake, The fool throws up his interest in both worlds; First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come." Blair. Let your desires for wealth be moderated by a conviction that it will increase your re- sponsibilities and your dangers ; only desire it in legitimate pursuits, honest and useful employment, or lawful enterprises. Do not desire it inordinately, but let your aspirations for earthly treasures be feeble in comparison with your thirst for useful knowledge, and your desire to do good to your fellows-men. Another branch of this subject is a desire of power or of influence. Power over society may be a means of great usefulness, and as such may be lawfully de- sired. Like the desire of wealth, it must have its limits. Our object in desiring influence must not be confined to our own selfish pur- poses, nor must this desire be the ruling passion of our minds ; when this is the case it consti- tutes ambition^ and always leads to indirect methods for its acquisition. The ambitious aspirant will be a prodigal, a hypocrite, a knave, anything — that he may gain a name and secure the popular favour. " I charge thee, fling away ambition ; By that sin fell the angels : how can man then, The image of his Maker, hope to win by it? EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 93 Love thyself last ; cherish those hearts that hate thee ; Corruption wins not more than honesty. Still in thy right hand carry gentle peace, To silence envious tongues. Be just, and fear not : Let all the ends thou aim'st at be thy country's, Thy God's, and truth's." — Shakspeaee. I hope, young gentlemen, you will never so lose your self-respect as to care nothing for the good opinion of mankind; but, at the same time, I would warn you against that fatal pas- sion which would seek personal elevation at the expense of honest convictions of truth and duty — that would make you unscrupulous in the measures which you use to elevate your- selves in the estimation of others and to gain in- fluence over them. Never build up yourselves at the expense of your neighbours. If you can- not rise but upon the ruins of others, be con- tent with a low place in society. Never tamper with the consciences of men by bribery or flat- tery, but always be open, and fair, and gener- ous, willing to stand or fall upon your own merits — and then, if power and influence come, use them as the gifts of God, for the right im- provement of which you are responsible to him. Emulation, or the desire of superiority, the desire for the esteem of others, and the desire for knowledge, must be governed and limited by similar conditions and considerations as 94 MANLY CHARACTER. those which we have given above, in connexion with the desire of wealth and the desire of in- fluence. Upon these I shall not enlarge. The opposite of desire is fear, and as the due regulation of this passion is concerned in mak- ing up the character, a brief consideration of it will be in place. Fear may be considered an animal instinct — something man possesses in common with mere animals. It is designed by the Creator to secure self-preservation ; and, in man, is right or wrong, noble or ignoble, according to its degree of in tenseness and the object which excites it. Fear is the apprehension of danger, or a shrinking from evil. All men naturally dread misery, and consequently they fear per- sonal harm. This is not ignoble when there is real evidence of danger, and when the feel- ing is not so intense as to turn us from the path of duty, or to unnerve and so disqualify us for the necessary exertions to escape the evil apprehended or to defend ourselves against it. When fear becomes the ruling feeling, and the heart loses its power of resistance or endurance, cowardice is the consequence. Cowardice is sometimes a mere weakness, and at others a vice. It is a vice when it turns its victim aside from the path of duty. "Fear is a most dismal passion: a mind EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 95 haunted witli fear is a most dismal night-piece of storm, precipice, ruins, tombs, and appari- tions ; it is not content with 'the compass of nature, as if too scanty for evil, but creates new worlds for calamity — things that are not. But very timorous natures only suffer to this degree ; and it is well they do not ; for such a fear alone is capable of taking in an ample vengeance of an incensed God, insomuch that some have thought that hell consisted in the severe extremity of this passion only. All that have fear have proportionable pain. It is an anticipation of evil, and has under its banner confusion, supplication, servility, amaze- ment, and self-desertion particularly.^^ — Br, Edward Young. There are false notions of courage and cow- ardice, w^hich should be early guarded against. There is a conventional law which obtains in certain circles, called "the law of honour,'' which prescribes, as the remedy for an insult, a challenge to mortal combat ; and if the in- jured party refuses this mode of redress, or the aggressor declines the hostile meeting, in either case the delinquent is branded as a coward. All this would be right if this mode of settling misunderstandings were not in con- flict with the divine law. As it is, conscience being the more authoritative rule, if a man 96 MANLY CHARACTER. obeys the impulses of that principle he is not to be set down as a coward on that account. Eather is not he the coward who is afraid of losing cast with self-styled gentlemen, and, influenced by that petty passion, having its origin in pride and false views of honour, de- spises the law of God and the claims of society. The duelist is the dastard, and not the man who considers God, his country, his family and friends, as holding stronger claims upon him than an absurd and wicked rule of honour, which came down from the barbarous ages and can be excused only in savages. " The Greeks and Eomans who lived before the general corruption of their countrymen, never dreamed that a duel — which is to be de- cided by chance, or, at most, by a skill in fenc- ing which they considered as the profession of their slaves — was a proper method of justify- ing one's self with regard to a reproach, which frequently does not at all concern a person's bravery. The advantage gained proves only that one is a better gladiator than his adver- sary, but not that he is exempt from the vice with which he was charged.'' — Dr, Dodd's Sermons to Young Men. The opposites of cowardice are courage and fortitude. Courage braves danger, and forti- tude endures pain. These are manly virtues, EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 97 and should be cultivated until they grow into habits. Their foundation should be self-re- spect and conscious rectitude. They should show themselves in the forms of unflinching integrity, manly confidence, patient endurance, and cheerfulness under providential visita- tions or the scorn and contempt of wicked or foolish men. One of the most important of the affections is hve. Virtuous love is a wishing well to and a de- light in a w^orthy object. When it has for its object the good, the beautiful, and the true, it is morally right, and produces harmony and pleasure in the soul. The love of God is piety : the love of our fellow-men is philanthropy, or benevolence : the love of the miserable is mercy or pity : the love of country is patriot- ism. To these species of love we may add, as not the least important, the love of family — embracing the love of parents, brothers, sis- ters, companion and children. Upon all these objects we may place our affections, and if each has its appropriate place in our hearts, one will not interfere with another. All are indis- pensable, and the whole train follows the su- preme love which we owe our Creator, as the stream flows from the fountain. " It is both a misery and a shame for a man 7 98 MANLY CHARACTER. to be a "bankrupt in love, wliicli he may easily pay and be never the more impoverished. I will be in no man's debt for good-will ; but will at least return every man his own meas- ure, if not with usury. It is much better to be a creditor than a debtor in anything, but especially of this. Yet of this I will so be content to be a debtor that I will always be paying it where I owe it, and yet never will so have paid it that I shall not owe it more." —Bp, Hall There can be no true virtue — no act which, in the strictest sense, can be characterized as virtuous — without a corresponding virtuous principle and impulse of the heart. As all professions of piety without the love of God are vain, so there can be no philanthropy without the love of our neighbour, no charity without love for the wretched, no patriotism without the love of country. As men may be very attentive to religious ceremonies, and be loud in their professions without a spark of grace to save them, so may they contribute largely to benevolent purposes without the least spark of love for their fellow-men, and they may die in the service of their country without a particle of patriotism in their hearts. To the outward acts, which indicate or usually follow love in all these cases, they may be EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 99 stimulated by pure selfishness. In this case their professions of piety are hypocrisy, their philanthropy a desire for human applause, and their patriotism vain ambition. In all good and worthy objects the heart should take the lead. Its true impulses, its gushing sympathies, should precede and accom- pany all our outward actions. Nothing can supply the lack of an honest and a feeling heart. A young man of a cold, hollow heart, is not capable of a noble and manly course of conduct. Hollow professions of good-will and interested displays of philanthropy, or patriot- ism, or charity, will not long impose upon the public ; and when the mask is removed the little soul shows itself to wonderful disadvan- tage. Large-heartedness and nobleness of soul depend upon the principle of love for the race, and stamp the character with true dig- nity. "Before the sparkling lamps on high Were kindled up, and hung around the sky ; Before the sun led on the circling hours, Or vital deeds produced their active powers ; Before the first intelligences strung Their golden harps, and soft preludiums sung To love, the mighty cause whence their existence sprung, The ineffable Divinity His own resemblance meets in thee. By this thy glorious lineage, thou dost prove Thy high descent — for God himself is love." Mils. RowE. 100 MANLY CHARACTER. That miserable counterfeit of the pure affec- tion of love which consists in a passionate fond- ness for female society, irrespective of intel- lectual or moral worth, is as universally con- temptible as it is ruinous. This passion usually results from mere animal desires, and is directed by no rational principle. What sort of a man is he likely to make who is for- ever running after the ladies and whispering soft nonsense into their ears ? When it is said of a gentleman that "he is a great ladies- man," it is generally considered rather an equivocal compliment. Extravagant affection for the sex effeminates the mind and detracts from the influence and respectability of a man. True regard for the female sex will be dis- criminating, and will be productive of the most beneficial effects. It will modify the asperi- ties of a rough mental structure, soften the heart and polish the manners. This is, how- ever, quite a different thing from sickening fondness for female society, which arises from no virtuous principle and proposes no laudable end. The affections which I have just been con- sidering are called benevolent affections. I shall now proceed to consider an opposite class, which are called malevolent affections, A family of the malevolent affections are arranged under the genus anger. EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 101 Simple anger is not always sinful or un- manly. When it rests upon an object which is really hateful, is not excessive, or long pro- tracted, it is consistent with virtue and relig- ion. Hence says St. Paul: "Be ye angry and sin not: let not the sun go down upon your wrath ; neither give place to the devil.'' Eph. iv, 26, 27. Anger, as usually understood, is a violent passion, consisting in excessive displeasure, arising from some real or supposed injury, and a disposition to injure the offending party in his person or interests. In this sense Solomon uses the word, when he says : " Anger rests in the bosom of fools.'' When long continued, anger becomes hatred; and when it assumes that form, it expels from the heart all its kindly feelings, and turns the man into a demon. The bosom which is filled with hatred for any of God's rational creatures is necessarily wretched. Hatred naturally seeks the injury of the obnoxious object; and if it is founded upon some real or supposed injury, seeks revenge. The language of revenge is, I will injure you because you have injured me. It is not will- ing to leave the punishment of the wrong- doer with God, where it belongs, but assumes the prerogative of inflicting punishment upon 102 MANLY CHAKACTER. transgressors, upon our own motion, without the forms of trial and conviction, and giving the offender no chance for a proper defence before an impartial tribunal. Eevenge is essentially anti-social, and tends to the disso- lution of society. It is, moreover, contrary to the law of God. St. Paul says : *' Dearly beloved, avenge not yourselves, but rather give place unto wrath : for it is written, Ven- geance is mine ; I will repay, saith the Lord. Therefore, if thine enemy hunger, feed him ; if he thirst, give him drink : for in so doing thou shalt heap coals of fire on his head. Be not overcome of evil, but overcome evil with good.'' Eom. xii, 19-21. A man may conquer an enemy by revenge ; but he will never save one by this means. If he can take delight in human ruin, there might be some satisfaction derived from the act of taking vengeance ; but this he cannot do, unless he has become transformed into the image of the destroyer of souls. Is it not far more glorious to overcome ourselves by forgiving injuries than to overcome our enemies \ij pun- ishin^ them ? An act of revenge is the triumph of disordered passion ; while an act of forgive- ness is the triumph of reason and love. " Nothing doth so befool a man as extreme passion. This doth both make them fools & EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 103 which otherwise are not, and show them to be fools that are so. Violent passions, if I can- not tame them that they may yield to my ease, I will at least smother them by conceal- ment, that they not appear to my shame." — Bp. Hall. We sometimes hear and read of the mveet- ness of revenge. That soul which can really enjoy the miseries of an enemy, and can in- flict them with a relish, must be allied to Satan himself. A mad dog is a hateful ani- mal ; but a revengeful man is the most hate- ful of all objects on earth, and far the most dangerous. He consults no rule but that of power. When he is able, he strikes the blow. He only awaits the favourable occasion, and then he gives yent to his gall in acts of vio- lence, and then gloats upon the victim of his hellish passion with fiendish delight, when he writhes under the stroke — perhaps welters in his blood. What a mere fury is man when under the power of this passion ! " How rash, how inconsiderate is rage ! How wretched, 0, how fatal is our error, When to revenge precipitate we run ! Revenge, that still with double force recoils Back on itself, and is its own revenge ; While to the short-lived, momentary joy, Succeeds a train of wars — an age of torment.'* Frowde. 104 MANLY CHARACTER. I need scarcely urge here that revenge proceeds upon the principle that every one has a natural and moral right to avenge his own wrongs ; and that this principle, car- ried out, would not merely bring us back to the barbarous ages, but rupture the bonds of society, and make the earth a grand slaughter-house. Upon this plan, the strong would keep the field until superior strength should be brought against them. Society could not exist upon this principle. The man, then, who purposes revenge in his heart, just so far as his influence goes, pur- poses making w^ar upon society, and is at heart an enemy to the race. Envy is another species under this genus. It consists in pain and mortification at the prosperity or success of others, arising from enmity against them. " This is the most deformed and most de- testable of all the passions. A good man may be angry, or ashamed, may love, may fear ; but a good man cannot envy. For all other passions ^eek good, but eijvy evil. All other passioi^s prqpo^e advantages to them- selves ; enyy §eeks the detriment of others. They, therefore, are human ; this is diabolical. Anger seeks vengeance for an injury— an in- jury in fortune, or person, or honour ; bii|j EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 105 onvy protends no injuries, and yet has an appetite for vengeance. . Love seeks the pos- session of good, fear the flight of evil, but envy neither ; all her good is the disadvantage of others. Hence, it is most detestable.^' — J>r. Edward Young, This is a very common vice of our poor de- praved nature. It is even hard for weak virtue to suppress this feeling when a rivat outstrips us. The feeling of envy, though reckoned a species of anger, often originates in pride, or too high an estimate of ourselves. At other times it may arise from selfishness^ or a disposition to monopolize all the good things. Now, what are we that we should lay claim to all the influence, prosperity, esteem, respect, and happiness in existence? What meanness there is in a disposition to keep all others upon our own level, or a little below us ! Is not the world large enough for us all? Are the bounties of Heaven so stinted that the measure of prosperity which is enjoyed by others, necessarily restricts that meted out to us ? Need we be the less happy because others are the more ? How much more noble is it to rejoice at the happiness of others, though it far exceed anything of which we can boast. Should we not feel such a sympathy with our brethren 106 MANLY CHARACTER. that their \yeal is to us an occasion of rejoicing and congratulation ? What a noble principle is that which embraces the second table of the law : " Thou shalt love thy neighbour as ^yself/^ If we love others as ourselves, we must feel a sincere pleasure in their pros- perity, and consider that it furnishes us with an occ-^sion of gratitude. The world is one l^reat family — men are brothers — and the welfare of one is just so much towards the \Yelfare of the whole. When one member suffers, all the rest should suffer with him ; and when one rejoices, all should rejoice to- gether. Envyy like revenge, is essentially anti- social, and should be discarded and watched against by all who would show themselves men, and help on the progress of the world. Say in your heart : If there are in the stores of Providence good things for others which are not for me, let them have them, and God be praised for it. What comfort can there be in sitting down and whining, because we are not the greatest and most observed of all. If God had seen proper, he would have enabled us to eclipse all our contemporaries. *' One star differs from another in glory,'' but '' every one in his own order.'' The highest peaks of the EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 107 mountains first catcli the liglitning, wliile the valleys drink in the refreshing showers. Jealousy is another individual of the family of angry affections. It consists in a violent fear of rivalry, accompanied with hatred, and is often the result of disappointed or disor- dered love. This passion usually originates in self-distrust, or a want of self-respect. The man who sets a high value upon himself is not predisposed to be affected by jealousy ; but one who is conscious of meanness will be always ready to suppose that his near friends have found him out, and that, of course, they are ready to admit others to a higher place in their consideration than himself. A jeal- ous disposition is always despised, as it really ought to be. As for the evil workings of this passion, they need not be mentioned, as they are sufficiently notorious. Solomon says : " Jealousy is cruel as the grave f and the history of the most cold-blooded assassina- tions, the fruit of this evil tree, abundantly illustrate the truth of the assertion. One more of the malevolent affections re- mains to be noticed, and then I shall have done. The master evil of a selfish, wicked heart, is ijvide. Pride consists in a false estimate of our own character. The term is often used in a good 108 MANLY CHAKACTER. sense, for great pleasure, or high satisfaction, with any person or thing to which we hold an intimate relation. So we sometimes say we are proud of our country, proud of our family, proud of our friends. If this feeling does not degenerate into a species of idolatry, it is not wrong. It is not in this sense that I use the word when I place it among the vices, but in the sense first given it, which is its natural and most ordinary acceptation. " Spite of all the fools that pride has made, 'Tis not on man a useless burden laid ; Pride has ennobled some, and some disgraced ; It hurts not in itself, but as 'tis placed ; When right, its view knows none but virtue's bound ; When wrong, it scarcely looks an inch around." Stillingfleet. Pride results in pretension, foppishness, scorn, display, irritability, and a thousand other unworthy accidents of human character, which spoil it and make it really contemptible. A young man who puts on airs, and affects greatness, uncommon wisdom, and superiority to all his contemporaries, is always thought to possess a shallow brain, and to have seen but lit- tle of the world. True dignity of bearing com- mands respect ; but a sort of hautem* is quite too common among a certain class of young men. If they can boast of the accident of wealth, they think it a sufficient reason why EMOTIONAL MANHOOD. 109 all the world should do them reverence. They, consequently, assume haughty airs, and look down upon the common ranks of society. These wealthy loafers and miserable rich coxcombs, are generally a^ bare of influence as they are of brains. They may have interested flatterers, but friends they have not. How admirably do simplicity and urbanity of man- ners appear in men of wealth and high re- spectability. Nothing is so strongly indicative of a clear head and a sound heart. As illus- trations of this reflection, I might point you to General Washington, John Wesley, William P8nn, the Duke of Wellington, and Prince Albert. Who does not feel a higher respect for the names of these distinguished men, than they would have felt had they been dis- tinguished by ih.Q haughty bearing of George the Fourth, Beau Nash, and a multitude of great little men of our own country, who really do not deserve to have their names re- corded in connexion with the historical charac- ters last mentioned. My young friends, I beseech you, as you would enjoy the respect of all whose respect is worth having, as you would exert an influ- ence for good in society, as you would enjoy a happy contentment with your lot, as you would please God — shun pride : " Pride goeth 110 MANLY CHARACTER. before destruction, and a haughty spirit be- fore a fall." Prov. xvi, 18. It will have been perceived that the argu- ment of this lecture is directed to the point of educating the hearty That this process should attain considerable maturity before the young man is launched upon the turbulent sea of active life, is quite evident. To a great ex- tent, it is the heart that gives men their position in society, giving them power over it for good or evil, and interesting them in, or isolating them from, its sympathies. One who has never learned to govern himself, will never be fit to govern others. It is not marl^y, but brutal, to be a slave to the animal pas- sions. It is only when the rational predomi- nates over the sensitive — standing at the lielm, and guiding the ship, while the passions keep it in motion — that the dignity of true man- hood is attained. A man of strong passions, without guiding power, is like a locomotive let loose under a full head of steam, without an engineer or a brakeman. It would move off with terrible power, but would certainly be dashed to pieces, and, most probably, do vast mischief by collision with trains which might be pursuing their course in an orderly manner, without suspicion of danger. VOLITIVE MANHOOD. Ill V -VOLITIYE MANHOOD. "the glory of young MEIir IS THEIR STRENGTH." — PROV. XX, 29. In the present lecture I shall invite your at- tention to the management of the will. It is not mere physical " strength " which gives to *' young men'^ high consideration, but strength of character — a character which bears down untoward circumstances, and makes itself felt in society. Such a character, to a considerable extent, will depend upon the in- telligence and self-government which I have discussed and enforced in preceding lectures. Other characteristics still remain to be consid- ered which are of equal importance, and which must be early and assiduously cultivated by that young man who would be a man of mark, and make a strong impression upon his age. Perhaps the most striking features of all great men, are the strength and proper government of the will. To these points I shall now direct your attention. The will is the voluntary faculty of the soul. It is that by which we determine our own actions, and shape our course through life, and without which we should be mere 112 MANLY CHARACTER. passive tools, the sport of influences without ourselves. It is, of course, of primary import- ance that this voluntary principle should have sufficient strength to overcome obstacles, and follow the dictates of the reason wherever they may lead. The first point which I shall no- tice as necessary to that power of the deter- mining principle which should be early ac- quired, is energy. To energy is necessary a certain amount of mental excitability, some imagination, and more or less enthusiasm. A stoical, unfeeling temperament, may be firm in its position, ob- stinately inactive, imperturbable amidst storms and tempests, but will never be strong in action. It is power of movement, and not qui- escence, which constitutes the element of char- acter to which I wish to direct your attention. It is more the strength of the heaving, moving, dashing ocean, than the strength of the rock- bound shore which resists the fury of the billows, that is here intended. Hence the necessity of a heart capable of profound emo- tion, of a strong current of feeling, and of a high pitch of excitement. The mind that merely meddles with logic, that deals in mere abstractions, is incapable of a high degree of activity. Energy of movement can only be found where there is a power of sympathy VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 113 with surrounding objects, and a susceptibility of rapidly imbibing heat from bodies of high temperature. A sort of central fire is neces- sary, inward impulsions, a susceptibility of motives to action, a desire for action — a rising, swelling tide in the heart, which, by its re- sistless power, carries along the whole nature in a given direction. Energy is erroneously supposed never to be wanting in youth. It is a want vastly more common than is generally supposed. It is really the cause of most of the failures made by those who are just entering upon the busi- ness of active life. It is the want of energy of character that makes them the victims of foreign influences, and that is the cause of their drifting off into unexplored and dan- gerous seas — that prevents them from stem- ming the tide of temptation, and makes them the victims of every species of influence which may be brought to bear upon them. The next element in the state of the will which I am urging, is decision. True decision of character is one of the noblest traits of a man. It stands in oppo- sition to hesitancy, doubt, cowardly apprehen- sion of consequences, and to unreasonable delays. Indecision is a weakness which spoils the character and ruins the prospects of the 114 MANLY CHARACTER. young aspirant for fame or usefulness. He who doubts, and hesitates, and delays, when the way of action is open before him, may have negative excellences, but is wanting in the positive elements of true manhood. It is the soul that dares to commit itself to a good cause, and to hazard danger and toil in its defence, that commands the respect of man- kind, and is likely to succeed in great and worthy enterprises. " A man without decision can never be said to belong to himself; since, if he dared to assert that he did, the puny force of some cause, about as powerful, you would have sup- posed, as a spider, may make a seizure of the hapless boaster the very next moment, and contemptuously exhibit the futility of the de- terminations by which he was to have proved the independence of his understanding and his will. He belongs to whatever can make capture of him ; and one thing after another vindicates its right to him, by arresting him while he is trying to go on ; as twigs and chips, floating near the edge of a river, are intercepted 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. His VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 115 character precluding all foresight of his con- duct, 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 acknowledge that next day's proceedings are at the disposal of its winds and clouds.'^ — Essay on Decision of Character, hy John Foster, The bold resolve is often the only condition of success, and is followed by a series of ac- tions which were not always contemplated at the beginning. It is also usually the precise point of difficulty in the way of success. Wlien men are once committed to a cause, they feel their interests identified with it ; their self- respect forbids a retrograde movement. They find it comparatively easy to proceed, as they feel that public expectation is settled in that direction, and know that they would disap- point and shock that expectation if they were to yield to the pressure of difficulties, and retrace their steps. When Caesar passed the Kubicon, he said, " The die is casf So, when a man resolves upon a course, or commits him- self to a cause, he feels that '' the die is cast.'' Caesar did not know how fearful would be the struggle, nor how protracted and bloody the wars wliich would follow tlie simple act of passing that small river, nor did he care. 116 MANLY CHARACTER. Whatever the consequences might be, he de- termined to brave them. He had settled a question, and had publicly, and before the world, commenced to act upon it, thereby giving the evidence that he was prepared for the consequences, whatever they might be. John Foster — in the invaluable Essay which has been quoted above — very properly ob- serves, that " to know how to obtain a deter- mination, is one of the first requisites and indications of a rationally decisive character." That knowledge is to be acquired by intel- lectual training. It will be found that pa- tient thought, and thorough examination, arc necessary prerequisites for such a determi- nation. Marked characters may seem to form their determinations with great haste ; but if the whole were known, it would appear that the way had first been well prepared, and every possible bearing of the subject well considered. A determination is quite a dif- ferent thing from a sudden impulse. It is the crisis of action which the mind reaches after a process — perhaps a long process — of induction. Hence it does not go and come like the visions of fancy, but it is the begin- ning of a series of acts and movements which pause for nothing that may oppose. All our resolves should have a definite ob- to VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 117 ject and aim. Archbishop Leighton says : "With respect to final aim and end, the greater part of mankind live at hazard. They have no certain harbour in view, nor direct their course to any fixed star. But to him that knoweth not the port to which he is bound, no wind can be favourable ; neither can he who has not yet determined at what mark he is to shoot, direct his arrow aright." It is also essential to a decided character that determinations should be immediately carried out. There is nothing which more certainly indicates feebleness of purpose than delay. He who waits for a convenient season in which to carry out his purposes is but half resolved. The greatness of that wonderful character. Napoleon Bonaparte, very much consisted in the promptness and rapidity with which he carried out his purposes. He looked over the ground, he calculated the chances, he formed his plan, he resolved ; and almost instantly his camp was electrified: all was stir and confusion for an hour, and then the vast army was in motion. Before his ene- mies dreamed of it, he had passed the most formidable barriers, and was in their midst. He never dozed over half-formed purposes. Action followed quickly upon the heels of determination. This, perhaps, more than 118 MANLY CHARACTER. any other one thing, gave him the character of the most decided and liead-strong com- mander that ever marched into the field of mortal strife. When the judgment is convinced, and the feelings are aroused, then is the time for action. ** Strike while the iron is hot,'' is an old and true maxim. As says Foster : " The whole measure of passion of which any one is capahle, is not more than enough to supply interest and energy for the required practical exertions ; therefore as little as pos- sible of this earthly flame should be expended in a way that does not augment the force of action. But nothing can less contribute or be more destructive to vigour of action than protracted anxious fluctuations, through reso- lutions adopted, rejected, resumed, suspended ; while yet nothing causes a greater expense of feeling. The heart is fretted and exhaust- ed by being subjected to an alternation of con- trary excitements, with the ultimate mortify- ing consciousness of their contributing to no end.'' Upon the other hand, prompt action leaves room for other advance purposes, and thus passing from stage to stage of a process, life is a series of successes, and the mind is con- stantly in a state of healthy activity. Using VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 119 up our mental excitement as fast as it is generated, the laboratory of the heart becomes increasingly active, and the product increases in the same proportion. Having gained a reputation for decision of character, the com- munity begin to expect of us promptness, both in the purpose and the action ; and our self-respect lends us aid in prosecuting our purposes, and victory over the most formi- dable difficulties becomes almost a matter of course. Several Mnderances in the way of decision may now be noticed. Self-distrust often pre- vents the formation of the decisive purpose. A certain amount of self-confidence is abso- lutely necessary to decision of character. He who distrusts himself should not complain of the want of confidence in him on the part of others. I do not discourage a due degree of modesty, or a sense of our dependence on God, but too low an estimate of your own powers, and so feeble a faith in yourselves that you can venture nothing upon the credit of your own resources. Opposition prevents feeble minds from de- cision. If all the world were on the side of their contemplated purposes, they would re- solve at once ; but perhaps the greater por- tion of the world is on the opposite side. 120 MANLY CHARACTER. Their purposes are too feeble, their souls of too soft a texture, to hear the scorn of the multitude. They will fall in with the wake of the world, and "follow the multitude," though they know it is " to do evil." Fire melts wax, and hardens clay; and so the very same opposition which overcomes the purposes and the convictions of some, strengthens the resolution of others. Op- position is an excellent discipline for a stern, strong will. It gives it the exercise which is necessary to preserve and increase its power — a fixedness which nothing can overcome. A regard for public sentiment often over- balances the demands of God and of con- science. Men inquire, not what is duty, but, What is public opinion? They forget that this is no standard of right; and besides, that it is the most changeable thing in this changing world. The public sentiment of to-day may be the opinion of a hated and proscribed minority to-morrow. One day the multitude spread their garments in the way before Christ, and cried, " Hosanna to the son of David!" and on another they cried, " Crucify him ! crucify him !" And yet this same variable vacillating thing, called public sentiment, tyrannizes over thou- sands, and paralyzes all their energies. It VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 121 is iiotliiiig short of contemptible cowardice and meanness to be such a slave to the opinion of the multitude ; and yet the strong- est have need to be fortified against it. How much to be admired are the noble sentiments of Mansfield, when threatened by a mob, and in danger of being torn to pieces by an infu- riated multitude, for the course he took in trying a case. Says he : " I wish popularity ; but it is that popularity which follows, not that which is run after ; it is that popularity w^hich, sooner or later, never fails to do justice to the pursuits of nohU ends by nohle means. I will not do that which my conscience tells me is wrong, upon this occasion, to gain the huzzas of thousands, or the daily praise of all the papers which come from the press. I will not avoid doing that which I think is rigid, though it should draw on me the whole artillery of libels — all that falsehood and malice can invent, or the credulity of a de- luded populace can swallow. I can say, with a great magistrate upon an occasion, and under circumstances not unlike, *I was al- ways of opinion that reproach acquired by well doing was no reproach, but an honour.' " Another illustration of the sublimity of the daring resolve may be seen in the case of Luther, when he was summoned by the Em- 122 MANLY CHARACTER. peror Charles V. to appear at the Diet of Worms. Some of the great reformer's friends cautioned him against attending the Diet, referring him to the trickery which was prac- tised in the cases of John Huss and Jerome of Prague. The memorable reply of the great reformer was : " I would go to Worms though there were as many devils there as there are tiles upon the houses.^' Another instance of decision and nohle daring is one which stands out prominently in the history of the world, and will never cease to command the admiration of man- kind — that is, the Declaration of American Independence — an act which, under the cir- cumstances, stands unrivalled in the sublimity of its sentiments and spirit, and especially as an exhibition of decision and strength of char- acter on the part of the American fathers of 1776. The language of Patrick Henry, in the Convention of Virginia, when the question of submission to the wrongs of the mother- country, or resistance by force, agonized all hearts, is a noble expression of decision of character. Said he : *' If we wish to be free — if we mean to preserve inviolate those ines- timable privileges for which we have been so long contending — if we mean not basely to VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 123 abandon the noble struggle in which we have been so long engaged, and which we have pledged ourselves never to abandon until the glorious object of our contest shall be ob- tained, we must fight ! I repeat ifc, sir, we must fight ! ! An appeal to arms, and to the God of hosts, is all that is left us. "It is vain, sir, to extenuate the matter. Gentlemen may cry. Peace ! peace ! but there is no peace. The war is actually begun ! the next gale that sweeps from the north will bring to our ears the clash of resounding arms ! Our brethren are already in the field. Why stand we here idle ? What is it that gentlemen would have ? Is life so dear, or peace so sweet, as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery ? Forbid it, Al- mighty God ! I know not what course others may take ; but as for me, give me liberty or give me death.^' What grandeur, what ma- jesty there is in these words ! It is not so much the eloquence of the language, as it is the power of the high resolve which produced it, that excites admiration. The circum- stances were of the most interesting charac- ter. The Convention were hesitating between action and inaction — submission and resist- ance. They were half dead with anxiety lest the impetuous orator should commit himself 124 MANLY CHARACTEB. hy some rasli and treasonable expression. Thej were merely prepared to look at the aspect of affairs, and try some new expe- dient to obtain their rights without taking up the sword. Cardinal de Eentz says : " Timoi- ous minds are much more inclined to delib- erate than to resolve." The great orator waits not their tardy motion, but, in thunder tones, announces his determination to die rather than be a slave. In these instances, the true dignity of man- hood stands out in bold relief, and shows it- self to best advantage. Without a portion of the same power of determination, in the most dubious circumstances, which here ex- hibits itself, there is a capital deficiency in the elements of character. The next attribute of character in con- nexion with the will, which I would notice, is firmness. Firmness is manifested in invincible con- stancy under temptations. Decision of char- acter implies action under disadvantages and perils, while firmness consists in remaining constant under strong temptations to depart from the line of duty or propriety. The two things originate in the same qualities of heart, but differ only in the circumstances which call them forth. YOLITIVE MANHOOD. 123 The temptations which assail our firmness are those which appeal to our avarice, our fears, our inclinations, our pride, or our am- bition. Strength of will to resist all tempta- tions to depart from the line of duty is one of the prominent attributes of fully-developed manhood. It is important for a young man to exercise his power of resisting evil influences early, as he cannot assure himself that they will not assail him until long experience shall have fortified him against them. Youth is peculiarly exposed to temptation, and yet is not guarded by long and well-established habits of resistance. Neither have the young the opportunity of long drilling in the arts of war before the battle begins ; but they have to study the tactics of the enemy and the most successful methods of meeting him, in the very heat of the conflict. Hostilities commence while you, young gentlemen, are as yet un- taught in the arts of your adversaries, and if you are foolish enough to be overtaken with- out your armour on, or to be found upon the enemy's ground, you will die ingloriously, without the first manly effort to bring the foe to the dust. It is a question of great moment how you shall secure yourself against early defeat and acquire the power to resist the numerous formidable assaults which may be 126 MANLY CHARACTER. made upon your virtue as you pass on to ma- tui:e. manhood. Just at this point I will give you a short lesson — very short indeed, as it consists of a simple monosyllable — although it may be somewhat difficult for you to learn, and still more difficult to practise. The lesson is simply, NO. Learn to say no as early as possi- ble. In most cases of temptation an emphatic, hearty, unhesitating NO, gains the victory. It is hesitating, stammering, faintly declining, wishing to be excused, consenting with the eye while you deny with the tongue, that is the precise point of danger. A young man invites you to a drinking saloon, a billiard room, or into suspicious female society, and you beg to be excused — you have an engagement, or it is getting late in the evening ; the next thing is that you are seized by the collar in a half- playful manner, with a '' Come along here,'^ and on you go, like the ox to the slaughter. Were that solicitation met with a peremptory NO, and strengthened by the demand, '' What do you mean, sir, by making such a proposition to ME ? I thought you knew me better f^ the power of the seducer would be neutralized in an instant, and you w^ould be left witli a pure conscience. The same individual would not be likely to assail you again, and, should the VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 127 enemy of your happiness find another agent to employ in his destructive schemes, you would find victory over him almost a matter of course. Prompt, decisive denial vanquishes the seducer, and strengthens your position. In nine cases out of ten, a prompt, emphatic, in- dignant NO, will foil the most wily tempter. When it is considered how feeble the tempta- tions to depart from duty now really are, and how much there is in the motives of religion and the common sentiments of mankind to render them still less potent, what a miserable apology for a man is he who suffers himself to be turned from the way of duty and happiness by the considerations of a moment's gratifica- tion? All the riches, honours, and pleasures that earth can afford should be regarded as lighter than the dust of the balance when put into the scales with a good conscience and a hope of immortality. Especially would you degrade yourselves if, by a little ridicuhy you should be made ashamed of virtue and befooled into recreancy by the meanest of all motives — a fear of being laughed at, I will now give you a few specimens of noble and unconquerable firmness in seasons of great trial, greater vastly than any which you are very likely to pass through. T shall take a few of these from the Bible. 128 MANLY CHARACTER. What a noble example of constancy is that of Joseph, when tempted to illicit intercourse with his master^s wife. " How/' says he, ''can I do this great wickedness, and sin against God ?" You can imagine the strength of the temptation of a fascinating woman, and a wo- man of rank too, without proceeding so far as that the imagination^ shall weaken the force of the noble example. This great moral hero can but be admired even by the worst of men. Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego, in the face of the "burning fiery furnace," when re- quired to worship the golden image, had the firmness to give to King Nebuchadnezzar this glorious answer : " If it be so, our God, whom we serve, is able to deliver us from the burn- ing fiery furnace ; and he will deliver us out of thy hand, O king. But if not, be it known unto thee, king, that we will not serve thy gods, nor worship the golden image which thou hast set up." Dan. iii, 17, 18. The prophet Daniel also refused to desist from prayer to his God, though it w^ere at the hazard of being "cast into the den of lions." When Agabus predicted that Paul should bo made a prisoner and bound at Jerusalem, and his sympathizing friends "besought him VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 129 not to go up to Jerusalem/' lie nobly an- swered : " What mean ye to weep, and to break my heart? for I am ready not to be bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus." Acts xxi, 13. In all these instances conscience held the supremacy, and temptations which appealed to the strongest passions of the human heart, were manfully and promptly resisted. These examples possess a grandeur and sublimity worthy of the highest admiration. The Book of Martyrs furnishes a thousand instances illustrative of the principle upon which I am now insisting. The noble heroism of the Scotch Covenanters, and of '' our Pilgrim fathers,'^ is a sublime exhibition of firmness under great trials ; also the history of our revolutionary struggle is replete with in- stances of this principle. From each of these classes I might introduce particular cases of great interest, but tlie limits to which this lecture must be confined will only admit of a very few, and these I shall select from the last. A more striking instance of almost super- human firmness is not recorded in history than that of General Washington, at the deeply discouraging period of the revolutionary war. The campaign of 1776 had been most dis- 130 MANLY CHARACTER. astrous to the colonial cause, and the com- mander-in-chief had " retreated through the swamps and crossed the Delaware/^ Sparks, in his Life of Washington, says : " In the midst of these scenes of trial and discouragement, Washington stood firm. From his letters, written at this time on the western bank of the Delaware, it does not appear that he yielded for a moment to a sense of immediate danger, or to a doubt of ultimate success. On the contrary, they breathe the same deter- mined spirit, and are marked by the same con- fidence, calmness, and forethought, which dis- tinguished them on all other occasions. When asked what he would do if Philadelphia should be taken, he is reported to have said, ' We will retreat beyond the Susquehanna Eiver, and thence, if necessary, to the Alleghany Mountains.^ ^^ Who can think of the condition of the little shattered, half-starved, and ill-clad army — the poverty of the country and the strength of the foe — and then conceive of the strength of heart and will which would be necessary to form such a purpose, without the profoundest admiration ? " Retreat to the Alleghany Mountains,'^ in the midst of winter, with such a feeble, suffering army ! What an iron nerve must be necessary to form and to execute such VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 131 a purpose as that ! The purpose was deliber- ately formed, and, if need had required, would have been executed ; but, thanks to a wise and gracious Providence, the brave commander-in- chief was saved from the pain of carrying out that purpose. Still another instance which transpired within our own times we have in the case of the great Magyar chief and civilian, M. Louis Kossuth. When he was an exile in Turkey, and the government of the Sublime Porte, being strongly pressed by the Austrian and Eussian governments to give him up, resorted to the expedient of offering him protection upon the ground of his embracing Mohammedanism, the noble spirit of this wonderful man spurned the offer, choosing rather to die than to aban- don his faith. Said he : " My answer does not admit of hesitation. Between death and shame the choice can neither be dubious nor difficult. Governor of Hungary, and elected to the high place by the confidence of fifteen millions of my countrymen, I know well what I owe to my country even in exile. Even as a private in- dividual I have an honourable path to pursue. Though once the governor of a generous peo- ple, I leave no inheritance to my children. They shall at least bear an unsullied name. God's will be done. 1 am prepared to die.'' 132 MANLY CHARACTER. These instances are designed to illustrate the real power and majesty of invincible firm- ness under circumstances of trial. The pmver of resistance is no less necessary to manliness of character, than the power of decisive action. Upon the one depends our efficiency, and upon the other our stability. A changeable charac- ter cannot have the public confidence. Of Eeuben, the patriarch Jacob said : '' Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel.^^ Deficiency in firmness is a defect of character which often excites pity, but never either respect or con- fidence. On the other hand, heroic firmness is universally admired. Shakspeare says : " A good leg will fail ; a straight back will stoop ; a black beard will turn white ; a curled pate will grow bald ; a fair face will wither ; a full eye will wax hollow ; but a good heart is the sun and moon — or, rather, the sun, and not the moon, for it shines bright, and never changes, but keeps his course truly." Another thing implied in the right con- dition of the will, is perseverance. Perseverance is nothing more nor less than protracted firmness and activity. It is the firmness which maintains itself under long delays and continued opposition. There are nerves which will endure a heavy shock with- out flinching, which cannot long preserve their VOLITIVE MANHOOD. t&S tension under a heavy pressure. They need more patience and hope. The power of en- durance is as really important to a manly character as decision and firmness, and re- quires greater strength of will. Many, under a temporary excitement, will brave dangers and resist temptations with astonishing court- age and fortitude, who soon become weary, and flag. It is the continued, persevering effort which succeeds in the accomplishment of great designs : — perseverance in the midst of disheartening discouragements — perseverance against dangers — and perseverance under long delays. The strength of a man^s character is brought out when he is obliged to wait long for success — when the means and the desired end are widely separated, or when the process is long, and involved in doubt; and when great labour, long continued, is the only con- dition of success. Almost any one can stem a current for a short period ; but to row up the whole length of a long and rapid river, would be quite another matter. A singular instance of determined perse- verance is given by John Foster, as follows : — "You may recollect the mention in one of our conversations, of a young man who wasted in two or three years a large patrimony, in profligate revels with a number of worthless 134 MANLY CHARACTER. associates calling themselves his friends, till his last means were exhausted, when they of course treated him with neglect or contempt. Reduced to absolute want, he one day went out of the house with an intention to put an end to his life ; but wandering awhile almost unconsciously, he came to the brow of an emi- nence which overlooked what were lately his estates. Here he sat down and remained fixed in thought a number of hours, at the end of which he sprang from the ground with a vehement exulting emotion. He had formed his resolution, which was that all these estates should be his again ; he had formed his plan too, which he instantly began to execute. He walked hastily forward, determined to seize the very first opportunity, of however humble a kind, to gain any money, though it were ever so despicable a trifle, and resolved abso- lutely not to spend, if he could help it, a farthing of whatever he might obtain. The first thing that drew his attention was a heap of coals shot out of carts on the pavement before a house. He offered himself to shovel or wheel them into the place where they were to be laid, and was employed. He received a few pence for the labour ; and then, in pur- suance of the saving part of his plan, requested some small gratuity of meat and drink, which VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 135 \^as given him. He then looked out for the next thing that might chance to offer ; and went, with indefatigable industry, through a succession of servile employments, in different places, of longer and shorter duration, still scrupulously avoiding, as far as possible, the expense of a penny. He promptly seized every opportunity which could advance his design, without regarding the meanness of occupation or appearance. By this method he had gained, after a considerable time, money enough to purchase, in order to sell again, a few cattle, of which he had taken pains to understand the value. He speedily but cautiously turned his first gains into second advantages ; re- tained without a single deviation his extreme parsimony ; and thus advanced by degrees into larger transactions and incipient wealth, I did not hear, or have forgotten the continued course of his life : but the final result was, that he more than recovered his lost posses- sions, and died an inveterate miser, worth £60,000. I have always recollected this as a signal instance, though in an unfortunate and ignoble direction, of decisive character, and of the extraordinary effect which, accord- ing to general laws, belongs to the strongest form of such a character.^' An eminent instance of perseverance we 136 MANLY CHARACTER, have in John Wesley, whose long life, which reached the period of eighty-four years, was filled, up to the very last hour, Avith efforts to do good. He preached daily, wrote at inter- vals, and rode upon horseback. With all his other duties, he wrote so many books, that if they were piled up before you, some, possibly, might think it quite impracticable to read them all through in one short lifetime. Adam Clarke was engaged thirty years in writing and publishing his extensive Com- mentary on the Bible, and at the same time performed an incredible amount of ministerial and literary labour. Who of you would be willing to pledge your word to read his great work through in five years ? Noah Webster was engaged on his great Dictionary for nesirlj forty years, without much intermission. To think of working among the dry roots of a multitude of tongues for so many years, with the one object in view, of making a dictionary ! What immense tenacity must there be in such a mind ! What power of endurance ! Such a mind is fastened to its object, as Prometheus was chained to the rock. These qualities of a strong will — the power of manly volition and manly endurance — must be cultivated until they ripen into habit. VOLITIVE MANHOOD. 137 The condition of the will, which I have de- scribed, is not to be acquired at once ; it will require time and a repetition of efforts, through a long series, to give that unyielding strength to the voluntary action of the mind which I have described. Hence the efforts must be begun early, and continued without intermission. The child that can lift six pounds, continues to increase the weight, and to accumulate strength, until he can lift six hundred. A weak will should be strengthened by ex- ercise ; a wayward will must be corrected by reason and conscience — so that, while it oper- ates with decision and force, it may always move in the right direction. There is a vast difference between the traits of character above described, and a blind ob- stinacy. A decided, firm, and adhesive char- acter, is regarded with universal respect, while an obstinate blockhead is universally con- temned. The difference between the two, is, that the one acts from an intelligent view of duty, while the other is influenced by preju- dice or interest. One is always open to con- viction, and willing and ready to change, when he is convinced that he is wrong ; while the other is not susceptible of either conviction or conversion, but " is wiser in his own eyes than seven men that can render a reason.'^ 138 MANLY CHARACTER. It requires no little strength of character to acknowledge a wrong, and to forsake it. The obstinate man thinks it would be de- grading for him to change his course, and so perseveres, often against his own convictions ; while the man of true decision and firmness, dares to correct himself when he finds he is in error. SOCIAL MANHOOD. 139 VI.-SOCIAL MANHOOD. " BE COURTEOUS.'* — ^I PET. IH, 8. We are all constituted bj our Creator mem- bers of society, and consequently cannot act solely with reference to ourselves. As mem- bers of society, our conduct has a bearing upon others, and the conduct of others affects us. Like a wheel in a watch, which, while it turns upon its own axis, influences the movement of other wheels, with which it is nearly or re- motely connected, and in its turn is influenced by them ; so action and reaction constitute a law which necessarily governs society. Hence the formation of our social character is a matter of the highest importance, and is made exceedingly prominent in the teachings of the Scriptures. True it is that the moral phases of social character are more especially noticed and regu- lated than those which are merely civil; but still these are not wholly neglected. The word (j)iXo(f}QO)v, rendered "courteous,^' literally signifies friendly-minded, and is descriptive of a state of mind which will show itself in civil and social intercourse. The term gentle- man, may be interpreted a man of gentle man- 140 MANLY CHARACTER. ners — one who, in all the intercourse of life, exhibits " urbanity of manners or disposition, affability, mildness, freedom from roughness, or rudeness, coarseness, grossness, or vul- garity/' The basis of such a character must be constituted of benevolence, humility, and meekness. In this connexion we use these terms for social virtues, and not Christian graces merely. " Politeness, in the common intercourse of the world, is a subsidium to what Christian love is in the better system of religion and virtue. The former may be defined, a con- stant attention to oblige, to do or say nothing which may give pain or offence : and Christian love is a continual endeavour to please, in order to promote our neighbour's best welfare. While, therefore, my young friends, you act upon the amiable principles of Christian truth, let that love especially, which is the most re- fined politeness, be the principal regulator of your behaviour in conversation. Study always to please, in order to improve and do good. Good sense and humour, and good breeding, unite in nearly the same dictate : and if they carry out the motive, so far as it is carried by Christianity, rejoice that you have the happy, the plain direction of a precept to form your behaviour, which is no less infallibly SOCIAL MANHOOD. 141 productive of your own internal peace and felicity, than it is certain to recommend you to the approbation and good esteem of others." — Br, Dodd^s Discourses to Young Men, Courteousness, as a social quality, was not thought to be a matter beneath the notice of the inspired writers. It is recorded, to the praise of Julius, the Eoman centurion, that he *^ courteously entreated Paul, and gave him liberty to go unto his friends to refresh him- self." Acts xxvii, 3. And of Publius it is said, that he '' received us, and lodged us courte- ously." Acts xxviii, 7. Courteousness, in these instances, was a mere heathen virtue, and yet is made a matter of honourable mention by the sacred historian. The precise idea to which I shall call your special attention, young gentlemen, in this lecture, is good manners^ — manners and habits, in your intercourse with society, which will give to your name an influence and attractions that will render your intercourse with so- ciety both agreeable and useful. To furnish you some aid in the accomplishment of this object, I will point out several things which may be deemed indispensable. 1. Special attention must be paid to your general bearing. You must unite dignity with gentleness. 142 MANLY CHARACTER. What is here intended is not a pompous man- ner, such as would be likely to arise from a mind inflated with false notions of personal superiority, but a sense of your own worth, tempered by a conviction of your weaknesses and defects. AVhen you find yourselves in* clined to put on airs, and to play the lord upon a small scale, just think of the incom- pleteness of your accomplishments, and how your conduct would be regarded by the search- ing eye of the well-bred gentleman. Lord Chesterfield, in his letters to his son, makes the following very sensible observations upon the point now in hand : — '' There is a certain dignity of manners absolutely neces- sary to make even the most valuable character either respected or respectable. Horseplay, romping, frequent and loud fits of laughter, jokes, waggery, and indiscriminate familiar- ity, will sink both merit and knowledge into a degree of contempt. They compose, at most, a merry fellow, and a merry fellow was never yet a respectable man. Indiscriminate famil- iarity either offends your superiors, or else dubs you their dependant, and led-captain. It gives your inferiors just, but troublesome claims of equality. A joker is near akin to a buffoon, and neither of them is the least re- lated to wit. Whoever is admitted or souo'ht SOCIAL MANHOOD. 14:3 for in company upon any other account than that of his merit and manners, is never re- spected there, but only made use of. Who- ever is ledy as it is called, in company for the sake of any one thing singly is singly that thing, and will never be considered in any other light, consequently never respected, let his merits be what they will.'' Let your self-respect be tempered by respect for others. A want of respect for the feelings and opinions of other men is evidence of a shallow intellect, as well as a defective educa- tion. He who w^ould be respected must re- spect others, and he who would not be respected cannot respect himself Suitable respect for others will effectually prevent our respect for ourselves from degenerating into pride and *' vain glory '' — a condition of mind which might be expected in a fallen spirit, but is utterly absurd in a fallen, fallible man. " The dignity of manners which I commend so much to you is not only as different from pride as true courage is from blustering, or true wit from joking, but is absolutely incon- sistent with it ; for nothing vilifies and de- grades more than pride. The pretensions of the proud man are oftener treated with scorn and contempt than with indignation — as we offer ridiculously too little to a tradesman who 144 MANLY CHARACTER. asks ridiculously too mucli for his goods ; but we do not haggle with one who only asks a just and reasonable price/' — Chesterfield, Be reserved and yet familiar. There is a happy mean between austerity of manners and that familiarity which breeds contempt. There is something exceedingly attractive in the character of a universal sympathizer — a friend of everybody — a man who is always approachable, always upon a level with the mass of minds around him, provided his sym- pathies with the masses and his condescension to their tastes and wishes do not flow on in so overwhelming a current as to carry away all the barriers settled by a high regard to social and moral order. Being so completely fused with the mass as to lose your own individual- ity would neutralize your influence and annihi- late your name. Such a familiarity with the world as reserves no secrets — such an identity of interest as retains no capital of one's own — such communicativeness as imparts everything and keeps nothing — so opening our secret chamber to the public gaze that thieves and robbers may easily learn every avenue of ap- proach, would be self-destruction, without pub- lic benefit. There are things to be kept within our own breasts, and things to be published abroad ; there are times to speak, and times to SOCIAL MANHOOD. 145 be silent. Happy is he who has the penetra- tion to discern the medium between undue familiarity with the world and a spirit of asceticism which would cast it entirely away from all his sympathies. Be accommodating, without subserviency. Give others their own way in all matters of indifference, but never yield a principle be- cause it may be asked or demanded by the multitude. You must not contend about trifles — you must not be querulous or disputa- tious ; but when a question of right, or even of taste, is raised, and you have settled and well- considered opinions of your own, take your ground, but always with a readiness to yield to conviction, which is perfectly apparent in your language and spirit. Never give up a point of importance, either of morals or man- ners, merely to conciliate others. Frankness and firmness, mingled with kindness, will do more towards securing the good opinion of mankind than a crouching submission to what is evidently wrong, merely because it is popu- lar. He who seeks popularity at the expensQ of principle, grasps at the shadow and loses the substance. " Abject flattery and indiscriminate assenta- tion degrade as much as indiscriminate con- tradiction and noisy debate disgust. But a 10 146 MANLY CHARACTER. modest assertion of our own opinion, and a complacent acquiescence in other people's, pre- serve dignity.'^ — Ohesterfield. y Stand at an equal distance from the man- ners of a fop and those of a clown. The polish of a true gentleman is not the prettiness and tinsel of the mere man of fashion, nor is the artlessBcss and simplicity of a well-bred man the vulgarity and coarseness of the street loafer. Avoid both of these extremes, as being utterly incompatible with that manliness of bearing and behaviour in society which consti- tute essential elements of that ripeness and perfection of your manhood, which should ever be your aim, and which are essential to influ- ence and success in the world. " Vulgar, low expressions, awkward motions and address vilify, as they imply either a very low turn of mind or low education and low company. Frivolous curiosity about trifles, and a laborious attention to little objects, which neither require nor deserve a moment's thought, lower a man ; who from thence is thought — and not unjustly — incapable of greater matters. Cardinal de Rentz very sagely marked out Cardinal Chigi for a little mind from the moment that he told him he had written three years with the same pen, and that it was an excellent good one still. SOCIAL MANHOOD. 147 " A certain degree of seriousness in looks and motions gives dignity, without excluding wit and decent cheerfulness, which are always serious themselves. A constant smirk upon the face and a whiffling activity of the body are strong indications of futility. Whoever is in a hurry shows that the thing he is about is too big for him. Haste and hurry are two different things." — Ohesterfield. The distinction intended by his lordship may seem obscure or doubtful. Perhaps haste implies mere celerity of movement, while hurry implies a forced movement. A man in haste drives his business, but he who is in a hurry is driven by his business. I would finally say in general — study to make all the persons with whom you have any intercourse, of whatever condition in life, per- fectly at ease in your presence. Let none feel that you pride yourself upon your superior en- dowments, education, or wealth. Let the simplest and poorest feel that they meet you as a brother — that your sympathies are with them just so far as they exhibit the proof of honesty of heart and elevation of sentiment. *' Be gentle towards all men." In so doing you will have your reward in the respect you will inspire and the evidence you will gain that you have been the meapasarf^^^^Q^K rnSIVBRSITTli 148 MANLY CHARACTER. the sphere of human happiness and exciting noble aspirations in bosoms which otherwise would have been left entirely under the con- trol of grovelling appetites, and would have been utterly crushed by meanness of spirit and utter self-despair. / 2. Let your manners be strictly chaste — ^ entirely free from everything which would impart a taint to others, or lessen you in the estimation of the purest and most elevated characters. Avoid all obscene, gross, or low conversa- tion. Even among yourselves study to be per- fectly chaste in your language, and make no allusions which would have a tendency to cor- rupt or debase the imagination. It is a most fatal mistake for young men to suppose that when they are away from society they may harmlessly indulge in lewd or vulgar conver- sation. Such discourse invariably leaves be- hind it a taint which it will be found difficult to efface, and impossible to conceal. The ideas which it excites linger in the memory, and haunt the imagination, like ghosts of dark- ness, until their impression is indelibly fixed upon the soul. The minds of young men, frequently sub- jected to contact with such mischievous causes, are likely to become corrupted, and as the SOCIAL MANHOOD. 14:9 leading tendency of the mind is, such will be the manners. From slight deviations from strict purity of conversation, he who is taken in this snare will proceed to those which are more glaring, until finally he casts off all semblance of decent propriety in his conversa- tion, and becomes a loathsome and disgusting specimen of a man void of shame. So dangerous is the touch of this fruitful source of mischief to young men — unchaste conversation — that you should consider it a sufficient reason for cutting the acquaintance of any young man who ventures upon impure allusions in your presence. " Evil communi- cations corrupt good manners." What a truth is this ! How many young men, who have been carefully trained in childhood, by listen- ing to the ribaldry of practised debauchees have been utterly ruined. I am here urging the importance of a chaste conversation upon my young friends, and you may not at first see why I seem to digress into an admonition upon the subject of bad com- pany. The perfect propriety of this will be seen in a moment, by reflecting upon the fact that it will be next to impossible for any young man to preserve purity of conversation and be in constant contact with the filth and mire of lascivious discourse. The example is fear- 150 MANLY CHARACTER. fully contagious, and to be shunned as the gates of hell. " As waters, however pure when they issue from the spring, take the colour of the soil through which they flow — as animals trans- ported from one region to another lose some- thing of their former habits, and degenerate little by little — so character assimilates to that which surrounds it. You may be forced to have bad connexions — bad acqitaintance — for perhaps you cannot avoid them — but you need not, and for your souFs sake, and the sake of everything dear to you, do not have bad companions. Men that scoff at religion — ridi- cule 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 extrava- gant in their habits and loose in their moral principles — these are the fools of whom Solo- mon speaks, that will bring their own destruc- tion npon you if you do not avoid them.'' — James. 3. Study to observe an appropriate bearing towards ladies, and let your manners in their presence be every way becoming. If I were to lay down a rule which would be applicable in this case, and which would SOCIAL MANHOOD. 161 secure the end I have in view — the regulation of your manners in female society — I would say : first form a right estimate of the female character, and then let all your conduct in re- lation to the sex be governed by that estimate. He who has a proper view of the delicacy, the elevation, and the sacredness of the female character, will usually need little else to guide him in particular cases as to his manners in female society. Appropriate manners will follow right views of the character and posi- tion of those with whom we associate and whose tastes and interests are affected. " Civility is particularly due to all women; and remember, that no provocation whatever can justify any man in not being civil to every woman ; and the greatest man in England would justly be reckoned a brute if he were not civil to the meanest woman. It is due to their sex, and it is the only protection they have against the superior strength of ours. Observe the French people, and mind how easily and naturally civil their address, and how agreeably they insinuate little civilities in their conversation. They think it so essen- tial that they call an honest man and a civil man by the same name of honnete homme; and the Eomans called civility huraanitas, as think- ing it inseparable from humanity. As nobody 152 MANLY CHARACTER. can instruct you in good-breeding better than your mamma, be sure you mind all she says to you about that subject, and depend upon it that your reputation and success in the world will, in a great measure, depend upon the de- gree of good-breeding you are master of. You cannot begin too early to take that turn in order to make it natural and habitual to you, which it is to very few Englishmen, who, neg- lecting it while they are young, find out too late, when they are old, how necessary it is, and then cannot get it right. There is hardly a French cook that is not better bred than most Englishmen of quality, and that cannot present himself with more ease and a better address in any mixed company.'^ — Chester- field. To the attainment of the right estimate of female character, its diligent study, and an acquaintance with the best specimens, will be found necessary. Happy is that young man who has daily before him the brightest ex- amples of female grace and loveliness, in a mother and a sister. Their spirit and man- ners, constituting the very image of female excellence, will impress themselves upon his very nature. They will form a conception of the ideal of female sanctity, which will oblige him to pay homage to its sovereignty. Would SOCIAL MANHOOD. 153 that all mothers and sisters knew the import- ance of their position — the part thej are con- stantly acting in forming the character of sons and brothers. Again: never presume that a lady is so wanting in common sense, taste, or refine- ment, as not to be able to appreciate sensible and enlightened conversation. The idea that ladies are better pleased with soft nonsense than with the good, the true, and the useful, will be almost certain to lead you to a course which will degrade you in their estimation. A young lady once asked her father why it was that gentlemen never talked anything but nonsense to her. The father's reply was : " This is no very great compliment to your good sense and taste, my dear f adding : " When the gentlemen talk nonsense to you, you should talk sensibly to them. Perhaps this would change the character of their dis- course." The girl replied, not without rea- son : "It is not a lady's place to lead conver- sation, or give it character, in the presence of gentlemen." This, it is probable, is one instance among a multitude, in which a young lady tried to play her own part when gentlemen entered into idle, foolish chat, although her better feelings revolted from it, and it tended to degrade them in her 154 MANLY CHARACTER. estimation. A young man of beautiful man- ners and an empty head, is soon rightly esti- mated by his female friends ; and he may be most wofully deceived in the opinion that his genteel dress, his graceful bows, his fasci- nating smiles, and his oily sentences, in the estimation of ladies, make ample amends for the want of good sound sense and a fund of useful information. A final remark, most important of all, is, that your female associates should be strictly select. They should be, like Caesar's wife, "not only pure, but above suspicion." Care- lessness in selecting your female company will be the grossest injustice to yourselves, for it will probably be the means of your *' dying as the fool dieth.'' Indeed, it would seem to indicate that you have already doom- ed yourself to perdition. 4. Attend to your manners at home, in the family circle. Bad habits formed in the domestic circle seldom leave a man in after years, and give a cast to his manners in society. Hence, that young man, who would appear to advantage in public, must cultivate good manners under the paternal roof. Not that you should screw yourself up to all the precision and formality which would be requisite in public SOCIAL MANHOOD. 155 circles. At home, you have a right to a cer- tain amount of freedom from restraint, which would he suitable nowhere else. Still here, as well as elsewhere, it should be your aim to make all around you happy. Here gross, vulgar, or unkind conduct is indeed peculiarly out of place. Tou ought certainly to wish to appear to advantage before your best friends. It is natural that you should desire to be both loved and respected by your father, mother, brothers, and sisters ; but how are you to se- cure this end if it be not by a style of man- ners, and a bearing, which will command their affections and their respect? For a young man to play the agreeable abroad, and be a demon of discord at home, is mon- strous. The thing will not succeed with the public. The viciousness and vulgarity of mind which make a young man an uncom- fortable inmate of the paternal mansion, can- not long be concealed from the public eye. They will now and then show themselves, like the claws and fiery eyes of the wolf in the sheep-skin, and will finally become matters of public notoriety, not only making you a terror to the private family circle, but to be regarded as a pest everywhere. "On the contrary, what inexpressible de- 156 MAELY CHARACTER. light, when brothers and sisters of one family live together in all the harmony of friend- ship and good esteem, mutually delighted and charmed with each other's presence and society ! Peace dwells in their bosom, and transport beats at their heart. They know how to obviate each other's troubles and diffi- culties ; they know how to impart and double each other's felicity and pleasure. And if, perchance, their aged parents live, who have formed them thus to love, whose early care provided for them this high feast of most delicate sensations, what increasing raptures do they feel, from blessing those parents with this fruit of their care ! ye happy parents, if I could envy any beings upon earth, it were you who see your youth renewed in good and worthy children flourishing around you ; who see those children amply crowning your days and nights of past solicitude, not only with the most reverential respect to yourselves, but with what you wish still more, if possible, — with the firmest and most respectful love to each other! who see those children, with all the kindness of that love you sought to inspire, like olive branches verdant around you ; blessed in you, blessed in each other, blessed in themselves ; the pro- vidence of God smiling upon them; success SOCIAL MANHOOD. 157 and honour attending their steps. Happy parents ! yours is a chosen lot. Happy pa- rents ! who from the moment they become such, exert their utmost efforts to attain that lot, and to strengthen, by the bonds of religion and instruction, what nature so kindly im- plants, and will aid so much in the rearing." — Dr, Dodd^s Discourses to Young Men. 5. Pay special respect to age, and superior wisdom and experience. Nothing is a more palpable blemish in the character of a young man than a want of reverence for his seniors, especially his pa- rents. It not only exhibits a great want of that modesty which is the brightest ornament to the character of the young, but is a certain indication of a want of good sense. It always implies a defect in early training, or the inter- position of some malign influence which has perverted the judgment and heart. In general, that impertinence and impu- dence, in a young man, which tramples upon age and experience, is a severe reflection upon his parents. It indicates but too plainly, that age, at home, has not been clothed with dig- nity, and, consequently, has not made itself respected. It shows that in his heart, as in a neglected garden, the weeds of self-import- ance and self-will have been permitted to 168 MANLY CHARACTER. acquire a rank growth, while the good and lovely plants of humility and modesty have been neglected. Such neglect always recoils most fearfully upon parents ; and although it is wicked in their offspring thus to visit their sins upon them, as a retribution of Provi- dence it is just and right, and ought to be borne with patience. " The rod and reproof give wisdom ; but a child left to himself bringeth his mother to shame.'' As to the parents who gave you birth: " Let their commands ever be sacred in your ears, and implicitly obeyed, where they do not contradict the commands of God ; pretend not to be wiser than they, who have had so much more experience than yourselves ; and despise them not, if haply you should be so blessed as to have gained a degree of knowledge or for- tune superior to them. Let your carriage towards them be always respectful, reverent, and submissive ; let your words be always affectionate and humble, and especially be- ware of pert and ill-seeming replies — of angry, discontented, and peevish looks. Never imag- ine, if they thwart your wills, or oppose your inclinations, that this ariseth from anything but love to you : solicitous as they have ever been for your welfare, always consider the same tender solicitude as exerting itself, even SOCIAL MANHOOD. 159 ill cases most opposite to your desires; and let the remembrance of what they have done and suffered for you, ever preserve you from acts of disobedience, and from paining those good hearts, which have already felt so much for you, their children." — Dr, Dodd^s Dis- courses to Young Men. Those advanced in years may often fail to * keep pace with the progress of things, and may entertain many antiquated notions, and yet they may have experience which is more valuable, in the every-day business of life, than an indefinite number of novelties, which are dignified with the name of improvements. Wisdom is not always with gray hairs; but there is more of it concentrated there than anywhere else. This is universally conceded ; and, of course, it ought to be conceded that age is not to be treated as a sure indication of mental decline, and a proper object of de- rision and merriment. The lad who can speak of his father as " the old man,'^ and his mother as *' the old woman,'' deserves to be despised. Such phrases as the following are not uncommon, but are generally most unseemly, in the mouth of a beardless boy: *' He is a man of another age ; he is behind the times ; he belongs to the old school ; he has not kept pace with the progress of 160 MANLY CHARACTER. the age ; while he has been sleeping, the world has been going on." In the estima- tion of headlong inexperience, either of these phrases is quite enough to neutralize the sagest wisdom or the gravest lessons of experience. Age may not run so rapidly as youth, but it will run more surely towards the mark. In concluding this lecture, permit me to urge the importance of the subject of it upon my young friends. Much — almost every- thing — depends upon manner. How often is a fine performance wholly spoiled by an unfor- tunate manner! A young gentleman may be well disposed, and highly estimated, and yet his society regarded as a nuisance, in con- sequence of something offensive in his man- ners. He may not be able to see why it is that he is treated with coolness, while others, greatly his inferiors in point of intelligence, are the idols of every circle. The whole is resolved into the mere question of manners. The range we have taken in this lecture gives to the subject of manners a kind of moral force which some might hastily sup- pose does not attach to it. It is here, as I hope all will concede, properly invested with an importance, and made to possess an in- trinsic worth which claims the respect and SOCIAL MANHOOD. 161 attention of all young men who would meet their responsibilities to God and the world. If we would make our impression upon so- ciety, and leave our mark behind us, we must carry the feelings of the community with which we are immediately connected. Mere light does little ; logic seldom converts : it is an impression upon the heart that does the work. What is it that takes the citadel of the heart ? *' Intrinsic merit alone will not do ; it will gain you the general esteem of all, but not the particular affection, that is, the heart, of any. To engage the affection of any par- ticular person, you must, over and above your general merit, liave some particular merit to that person — by services done, or offered ; by expression of regard and esteem; by com- plaisance, attention, &c., for him; and the graceful manner of doing all these things opens the way to the heart, and facilitates, or rather insures, their efiPects. From your own observation, reflect what a disagreeable impression an awkward address, a slovenly figure, an ungraceful manner of speaking — whether stuttering, muttering, monotony, or drawling — an inattentive behaviour, &c., make upon you, at first sight, in a stranger, and how they prejudice you against him, 162 MANLY CHARACTER. though, for aught you know, he may have great intrinsic sense and merit. And reflect, on the other hand, how much the opposites of all these things prepossess you, at first sight, in favour of those who enjoy them. You wish to find all good qualities in them, and are in some degree disappointed if you do not. A thousand little things, not separately to he defined, conspire to form these graces, this je ne sais quoi, that always please. Observe carefully, then, what pleases or displeases you in others, and be persuaded that, in general, the same things will please or dis- please them in you.'^ — Chesterfield, We may convince some of truths, and of the propriety of a certain course of life ; but we must mcrve their feelings before we shall gain their acquiescence in the truths we teach, or spring their powers into action in the direc- tion of the duties we enforce. So, if we would exert a wide influence over society, we must take hold of the heart of society — we must meet the tastes of society. In other words, we must study the art of pleasing — of making ourselves agreeable. Our mien must be becoming — our social character must be con- formed to the best models. " Manners, though the last, and it may be the least, ingredient of real merit, are, how- SOCIAL MANHOOD. 163 ever, very far from being useless in its com- position ; they adorn, and give an additional force and lustre to both virtue and knowl- edge. They prepare and smooth the way for the progress of both; and are, I fear, with the bulk of mankind, more engaging than either. Kemember, then, the infinite advantage of manners ; cultivate and improve your own to the utmost ; good sense will sug- gest the great rules to you, good company will do the rest." — Chesterfield. The importance of keeping good company, with reference to its influence upon your man- ners, can scarcely be over-estimated. We are creatures of imitation, and are especially liable to imitate a vicious manner. Ere we are aware, it fastens itself upon us, and wo find ourselves — or, rather, others find lis — imitating the mannerisms of some favourite companion or friend. As we are forming our manners, we need the perfect ideal in our minds, and quite essential to this is the per- fect model before us of what we would aspire to become. 164 MANLY CHARACTER. VII -CIVIL MANHOOD. "AND THE CHIEF CAPTAIN ANSWERED, WITH A GREAT SUM OBTAINED I THIS FREEDOM. AND PAUL SAID, BUT I WAS FREE- BORN." — ACTS XXn, 28. " A CITIZEN OF NO MEAN CITY." — ACTS XXI, S9. The present lecture will be devoted to the consideration of the rights and privileges, duties and responsibilities, of citizens. It is scarcely necessary to say that these are themes which it becomes young men to study and understand. About to enter upon the relation of citizens, and to be invested with all the rights and privileges of freemen, an early adjustment to that condition is urged by every motive of duty and interest. In despotic governments, where every man is expected to be a soldier, a military educa- tion is all that is deemed requisite for a young man. In free representative govern- ments, peace is the natural condition of pros- perity, and the civil relations are matters of the highest practical importance. The candi- date for citizenship should form an adequate acquaintance with the subject of political economy, that he may have some tolerable idea of what is about to be required of him, and that he may meet the reasonable de- mands and expectations of society. CIVIL MANHOOD. 165 In endeavouring to render you some as- sistance in the pursuit of this object, I shall first inquire into the rights and privileges of a citizen. Every citizen is entitled to the protection of the government. According to the Decla- ration of American Independence, " every man is born with certain inalienable rights, such as life, liberty, and the pursuit of happi- ness." These rights must not only be re- spected by government, but be protected by it, and at its own cost. The person of every citizen should be regarded as sacred, and, consequently, should be protected from all personal violence. The property of the citizen is also under the protection of the govern- ment; hence the punishment of theft, rob- bery, and all species of fraud. The character or reputation of the citizen is also, by civil government, acknowledged as a personal right, to be covered by its shield. The general rule is, that every citizen has a right to claim protection in the pursuit of a lawful calling, and has a right to the avails of his labour. Those, however, who claim the pro- tection of law in pursuits which are injurious to society, demand too much ; for a business is only lawful when it does not infringe upon social rights. 166 MANLY CHARACTER. It would be absurd for government to pro- tect a business which wages war upon the happiness and the very existence of society. Government is appointed for the conservation of society, and, in the nature of the case, is bound to suppress all individual enterprises which militate against its best interests. The rights of society are made up of the social rights of the individuals of whom it is com- posed, and when any of those rights is in- vaded, society is injured. If one man's rights may be taken from him, so may be those of another, until the rights of the whole community are destroyed. Hence society generally is injured by the infraction of the rights of any one individual of its members, and each individual sustains an injury when any other individual is injured. Such is the result of the social state — such the identity of the social interests of all the members of the body politic. The necessary consequence flowing from these positions is, that when government licenses a business which is injurious to the moral character or the temporal prosperity of any portion of the community, it perverts its proper functions. What right can a man have to manufacture and sell an article which is only injurious to the buyer, and CIVIL MANHOOD. 167 which, in all ordinary cases, unfits him for the duties and responsibilities of a citizen? What right can the government have to license such a business? What reason can be given why it should not be suppressed, under severe penalties ? Has not every good citizen a claim upon the government for pro- tection against the evils of every business of this class ? So I certainly believe ; and I have never yet heard a reason offered against this view, of which a sensible man ought not to be ashamed. Why men should be allowed to make themselves rich at the expense of the unwary, the weak, and the defenceless, no good reason can be given. Why a busi- ness should be tolerated that taxes me, by creating pauperism and crime, no one can tell. Why the morals — and, consequently, the happiness, respectability, and usefulness — of my children should be exposed, I might safely challenge any one to show. To apply the principles of social rights, for which I contend, to particular cases, I would have grog-shops, gambling-houses, houses of ill- fame, and every place of demoralizing amuse- ment, suppressed by law. The point to which I have arrived naturally suggests the particular lesson which I wish to inculcate upon your minds, and which I hope 168 MANLY CHARACTER. may be well considered. In selecting a course of life, you have more than one thing to look at. The mere pecuniary advantages of the business which you select as a means of livelihood, is not everything, nor the principal thing, to be considered. You are to inquire whether it is a useful and an honourable, as well as a profitable, employment. As you have no right to make war upon society for your own benefit, you cannot justly engage in a business without taking into considera- tion the influence it will exert upon the moral character, the social condition, the domestic comfort, the wealth, and the happi- ness of the community of which you constitute a member. Permit me then to hope, young gentlemen, that none of you are candidates for a position in connexion with any of those schools of vice — manufactories of pauperism — machines to press tears from the eyes of widows and orphans — antechambers to per- dition — which are so abundant in this wicked world. Shun them — hate them — despise them — from the lowest groggery to the most splendid theatre. Never help yourselves to cash by helping others to bitter remorse, poverty, disgrace, and ruin. You have no right to do this. No human law can give you the right. CIVIL MANHOOD. 169 Before leaving this part of tlie subject, it may be proper to say a few words upon the manner of supporting your rights as citizens. You are not bound to submit to any en- croachments upon your civil rights, except in cases in which the vindication of those rights would cost you more than they are worth, or the suffering of the wrong would exert a moral influence which would be worth more to the public than what you lose is to you. In such cases, it would be your duty, as a Christian, or even as a good citizen, to suffer wrong. This lesson is taught us by our blessed Saviour in the following remarkable language : — " Ye have heard that it hath been said. An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth : but I say unto you. That ye resist not evil; but whosoever shall smite thee on thy right cheek turn to him the other also. And if any man will sue thee at the law, and take away thy coat, let him have thy cloak also. And whosoever shall compel thee to go a mile, go with him twain. Give to him that asketh thee; and from him that would bor- row of thee turn not thou away." Matthew V, 38-42. When you find it proper to seek a remedy for any encroachment upon your rights, you must not forget that you are a member of 170 MANLY CHARACTER. society, and that one of tlie conditions of the social compact is, that you yield to society the prerogative of avenging your social wrongs, or punishing those who may have been guilty of perpetrating them. You are not your own judge, jury, and gaoler. You must seek your redress in an orderly man- ner, by application to the administrators of justice. A mob is always wrong — they may be in pursuit of justice, and, so far, their object is right ; but the means by which they seek to attain it are wrong. For an indi- vidual to take the law into his own hands, and avenge his own wrongs, is to act upon the mob principle. In both instances, war is made upon the social system : for if one man has a right to avenge his own wrongs, so has another; if one company, or mob, has a right to abate an inconvenience or nuisance, or punish a crime, so has another; and, of course, this right asserted by all, would dis- solve society, and reduce it to a state of bar- barism. In a country like ours, in which the laws are made by the representatives of the people, and unequal or unjust laws can be repealed or amended with little delay, there is no ex- cuse for mobs, or for an unlawful assumption of the seat of justice in any form. It is par- CIVIL MANHOOD. 171 ticularlj important that tlie young men of America should be taught to respect the laws, and to rally around their authorized adminis- trators — that they should learn to consider themselves as members of society, and not as isolated individuals — that they should be governed by law, and not be impelled by pas- sion to seek their rights by brute force, or mob violence. Upon the adoption or rejection of this principle, to a great extent, depend the character of our future history, and the permanency of our free institutions. " Kender to Caesar the things which are Caesar's," is a divine precept, and implies the general duty of respect for the legitimate government. St. Paul gives us the true political philosophy of a Christian, in the following explicit terms : " Let every soul be subject unto the higher powers. For there is no power but of God: the powers that be are ordained of God. Who- soever therefore resisteth the power, resisteth the ordinance of God : and they that resist shall receive to themselves damnation. For rulers are not a terror to good works, but to the evil. Wilt thou then not be afraid of the power ? do that which is good, and thou shalt have praise of the same : for he is the min- ister of God to thee for good. But if thou do that which is evil, be afraid ; for he beareth 172 MANLY CHARACTER. not the sword in vain : for he is the minister of God, a revenger to execute wrath upon him that doeth evil. Wherefore ye must needs be subject, not only for wrath, but also for conscience' sake. For, for this cause pay ye tribute also : for they are God's ministers, attending continually upon this very thing. Eender therefore to all their dues : tribute to whom tribute is due ; custom to whom custom ; fear to whom fear ; honour to whom honour.'' Eom. xiii, 1—7, In the next place I shall invite your atten- tion to the responsibilities of a citizen. Individual responsibility extends as far as individual power, and no farther. No indi- vidual citizen is responsible for the whole community, unless, indeed, it can be shown that he occupies the singular position of hav- ing been able to control the conduct, and form the character, of the whole community. This is a case which, if it be supposed a pos- sibility, is not subject to the ordinary laws of human responsibility. Every community is composed of individuals, and just so far as each one is capable of exerting an influence upon the character of society, just so far is he responsible for the evils which are found in social life. This is the rule of justice, and the one by which every individual will be tried. CIVIL MANHOOD. 173 Ifc must be specially noticed, that our re- sponsibility extends to the influence which we exert upon others. If we were the only in- dividuals in the world, we should only be responsible for our actions, as they relate to God and ourselves. As we are social beings, and our actions, in various ways, influence society, we are responsible for the social state to the extent in which we have had a hand in forming that state. We are responsible for the character and conduct of others in exact proportion to our instrumentality in forming that character, and influencing that conduct. Cain, the first murderer, demanded of God : " Am I my brother's keeper ?'' This demand contains an anti-social principle. It implies that men are so isolated from each other as to have no social responsibilities — that each one has only to look out for himself. This is not only a most narrow and selfish view, but is totally contrary to the law of God and the conditions of the social state. If I injure a man's intellectual or moral character, and that injury results in an extensive injury to society, I am responsible for the result. The victim of my ill example, or of my corrupt teaching, is indeed voluntary in following me, and is himself responsible, but that does not excuse me. If the social state is such, that 174 MANLY CHARACTER. men naturally and necessarily influence each other, we are bound, as members of the social compact, to consider what influence our con- duct and character will have upon others. Our responsibilities run through all the rami- fications of society, just so far as we come into contact with society, or so far as we might do so to its benefit. We are responsible for all the evil we do, for all the good we might do, and for all the evil we might avert, or remedy. Thus far I have treated the subject in a general way. It may be useful to give it a more specific bearing. We each have responsibilities resting upon us, in relation to the moral character, the physical and social condition, the usefulness and happiness of others. In relation to each of these branches of responsibility much might be said, and many illustrations might be given. I will, however, direct your attention principally to another point — and that is one which has special reference to your civil rela- tions, as members of a community of freemen, under a representative government. This re- sponsibility is centred in, or related to, the elective franchise. In one sense, in this country, the people govern themselves. They select, directly or indirectly, their legislators and executive of- CIVIL MANHOOD. 173 ficers. The people, consequently, are respon- sible for the laws which are enacted, and for the manner in which they are administered. The whole machinery of government depends upon the wisdom and patriotism of the electors. If bad or defective laws are enacted, they are the work of the men whom the people em- ployed to legislate for them. If they are not repealed, it is because the people's servants will not repeal them. If the laws which are enacted for the security of the State and the protection of the people, are badly admin- istered, it is through the delinquency of the officers whom the people selected for the pur- pose of carrying out the intentions and objects of legislation — plainly, because the executive agency is unfaithful to the obligations of their official oath. The evils, in some instances, may be without remedy fo||the time ; but, on the occasion of the next election, the unfaith- ful steward may be removed, and another put into his place, who will regard his pledged obligations and the interests of his constitu- ents. Should those who exercise the elective franchise not use it for the removal of the grievance, they become parties to the social injustice, and share in its responsibilities. A correspondent of the New- York Observer give us the following timely admonition: — 176 MANLY CHARACTER. " There are already ominous appearances in our political horizon. We have, within a few years, witnessed events which the founders of our political institutions never apprehended. Dangers thicken around our happy country. While everything is proceeding prosperously. Christians may be indulged in their love of retirement and peace ; but when the republic is in jeopardy, it behooves them to come out and exert their influence to preserve our free institutions, and to ward off those evils which threaten to mar or destroy our peace, order, and liberty." All this goes to set in a strong light the responsibilities of electors. As you, young gentlemen, if God shall preserve your lives, are soon to take upon you this part of the duties of a citizen of this great republic, it becomes you to igpnsider how far you are re- sponsible for the enactment of its laws and administration of its government. You should study the civil polity of the country, and labour to understand it, and be prepared to act intelligently in sustaining or reforming it, as the case may be, and in giving character to its administration. Your responsibilities may not only exfend to the simple act of casting your vote, but you may find it possible, and even important, to CIVIL MANHOOD. 177 make your influence felt in the primary ar- rangements. You may have responsibilities in relation to the nominations as well as the elections. Often much depends upon the pri- mary arrangements, and quite too often these are carved out by a small company of office- seekers, who are utterly selfish and unprin- cipled. The public good may require that they should be thwarted, and the object may be within your power. Should this be the case, and you should neglect to use your in- fluence to that effect, you will not have met your responsibilities, as an enlightened free- man should always do. I would be far from having you assume the character of a demagogue, or a brawling poli- tician. There is scarcely a character to be named for which 1 have the same amount of contempt. I hope you will always be honour- able, above-board, and perfectly patriotic, in all your political movements. Strive to dif- fuse light by all possible means. Convert as many of your fellow-citizens to your opinions as you may by honest and Christian efforts ; and run the miserable demagogues off* the track, if you can do it fairly. But beware of the clap-trap and the gross assaults upon character practised in the usual political gossip of our electioneering campaigns. 12 178 MANLY CHARACTER. The following sentiments from our great statesman, Daniel Webster, are worthy of being well considered. Says he : " There has been openly announced a sentiment, which I consider as the very concrete of false morality, which declares that ' all is fair in politics.' If a man speaks falsely, or calumniously of his neighbour, and is reproached for the of- fence, the ready excuse is this — it was in relation to public and political matters ; 1 cherished no personal ill-will whatever against that individual, but quite the contrary ; I spoke of my adversary merely as a political man. In my opinion, the day is coming when falsehood will stand for falsehood, and calumny will be treated as a breach of the command- ment, whether it be committed politically, or in the concerns of private life.'' Would that the day might come soon. The idea of one code of morality for a politician, or a public man, and another for the private citizen, is an outrage upon all common-sense ; and yet that idea seems to have gained great credit, and to have obtained the authority of a canon in too many quarters. Those miserable vampires, who are always wonderfully concerned for " the dear people," and seem to think all the responsibilities of the government rest upon their shoulders, are CIVIL MANHOOD. 179 niiiversallv patriotic, and loud in their profes- sions of " principle/' when the fact is, that the sum total of their stimulus to action re- solves itself into John Eandolph's " seven prin- ciples of a politician — the five loaves and two fishes/' These men must be superseded in our political arrangements, or our govern- ment will soon be as corrupt as any of the rotten and oppressive monarchies of the Old "World. Whatever your respon sibilities may re- quire of you in this matter, meet them like men. Next, I pass to notice the duties of a citizen. The duties of a citizen will be suggested by what has been said of his responsibilities. His, duties and responsibilities are correlative. It is the duty of the citizen in general to sup- port the State to the utmost of his ability, and to contribute to its stability, wealth, and prosperity. The conditions of the social compact are protection on the one side, and support on the other. To ask for, or claim, the fulfil-^ ment of the condition on the part of society, without meeting the conditions on our part, would be unjust. He who lives in society, and avails himself of its protection, without rendering society any service, is a mere drone in the hive, and deserves to be driven into solitude to provide for himself, independent 180 MANLY CHARACTER. of the rest of the world. He who refuses to be governed by the civil and municipal regu- lations of the community, of which he consti- tutes a part, has no right to claim the inter- ference of the civil law for his own protection from acts of violence and injustice. If the law is good for one, it is good for another ; if we would be covered by its shield, we must bow to its sceptre ; and if we would avail our- selves of its benefits, we must bear our share of the expenses of its support. 1. We are bound to pay the taxes necessary for the support of the government. This includes the support of the legislature, of the executive, and of the military, or the arrangements necessary for the defence of the country. It also includes all public improve- ments necessary for the greater safety and prosperity of the country. Public institutions, penal and charitable, are also embraced. It is our duty, as citizens, to bear our share of the public burdens, according to a just esti- mate of our abilities or means. If we have a greater amount of property to be protected by law than another, we ought to contribute proportionably more for the support of the machinery of government. The divine rule is, " Unto whomsoever much is given, of him shall be much required ; and to whom men have CIVIL MANHOOD. 181 committed much, of him they will ask the more/' 2. x\s citizens it is, or will be, your duty to assist in preserving the purity of the gov- ernment, and a just administration of the laws. You have a duty to do just answering to your responsibilities as an elector. That you may discharge this duty intelligently, and to the benefit of the State, you must acquaint yourselves with the great issues raised, and the character and qualifications of the candi- dates for office. A party politician is not a very enviable character, for the reason that he is generally an office-seeker, or in some way derives his support from a political party. He is, consequently, always under the sus- picion of selfish motives. He is not presumed to be stimulated by patriotism, but rather by " the loaves and fishes.'' I would, consequent- ly, have you beware of dipping deeply into party politics. Not that I would have you indif- ferent to the issues which political parties bring before the country for its consideration and action. There is occasion for you to be wide awake to these. Utter indifference in the midst of high political excitement, is not always wise, although it is quite common with vast masses of our most staid and sensible citizens. 182 MANLY CHARACTER. A graphic writer thus presents the case : — *' Fiery radicalism to-day, and phlegmatic cu^ torn to-morrow, rule the national mind ; and neither advances it in true experience. The mass of the population, however, take but little part, or even interest, in this contest of influences, vitally as they may be concerned in the result. For even in this free republic, it can be proved by the poll returns, that com- paratively few of the voters of any town actu- ally vote ; and usually the best and soundest members of the community neglect to do so, through indifference for either candidate, or from an unwillingness to crowd their way through the rowdies at the polls. Nor do they take any measures or make any effort to secure the nomination of other candidates for office, but allow interested partisans to pro- pose party hacks at caucus meetings, and then permit these same expectants of some of the crumbs of the *' loaves and fishes,^' to vote in their patrons, while they themselves either cast no vote at all, or throw away their fran- chise by scattering votes. They mistake su- pineness for moderation, and betray their country by being neither rebels nor tories. Destiny wafts the ship of state within the monster-guarded straits ; and w^hile the cap- tain with his adherents insists upon bearding CIVIL MANHOOD. 183 the six-headed danger on the right in its very den, the mate's party are for clinging with pusillanimous folly to the smooth current on the left. The passive crew, in the mean time, neither mutinous to the vehemence of the former, nor insensible to the caution of the latter, steer their ambiguous course midway between : but, alas ! they have not removed themselves from either hazard ; the remnant that Scylla's fangs have not selected, are straightway entombed in the still vortex of Charybdis. Solitary are the Ulysses that escape at last with their naked lives, to tell the tale.'' — Freedom of Thouglit, the True Mean : an address, by James Strong, A. M. Above all things, never be the dupe of political aspirants — never take your political creed upon trust — study the subject, and think for yourselves. Undue deference is the nour- ishment upon which political demagogues and political aspirants live. This is the ladder upon which ambition and usurpation have always ascended to the heights of despotic power. What was it but the confidence and the adoration of the people of France which gave Napoleon Bonaparte his ascendancy, and enabled him to outshine all the monarchs of Europe — to depose and crown kings at pleas- ure ? Political men need watching — they need 184 MANLY CHARACTEK. to feel their responsibility to the people, and to understand fully that their supporters are not so stupidly blind as to be incapable of seeing their aberrations, nor so devoted to party interests as to support them, right or wrong. When you become afraid to abandon a faithless public servant, or can so far have forgotten your duty to the country at large as to cleave to and support a party in meas- ures which you know to be injurious to the body politic, or only beneficial to a section of it, you have already become recreant to your duty. A broad, liberal, patriotic platform is only worthy of an American citizen. No lim- ited, local, sectional, partisan feeling, should enter into the composition of his political char- acter, or the formation of his political creed. Your maxim should be : Our country, our whole country, one and inseparable. 3. As citizens, you will be called upon for your contributions to the common stock of useful knowledge, and the means of enlighten- ing the public mind. You have no right to dwarf your own intellectual powers, or to withhold from the community your best efforts to spread useful information. Your mind must be well stored with practical wisdom, and you must be prepared, on all suitable occa- CIVIL MANHOOD. 185 sions and in all proper modes, to communi- cate it to others. If you choose a profession, your line of duty, in this respect, will he marked out with tolerable distinctness. If you hecome a man of business, still you have your sphere, and are by no means without opportunities to shed light upon the masses with which you mingle. Whatever you can do to enlighten, and so to elevate individuals or masses, it is your hounden duty to do. It is a contribution to the interests of society, which you cannot withhold without becoming guilty of social injustice. You will find many avenues of usefulness open before you. You should exert an influ- ence over the common schools of your county, town, or district, as the case may be. Assist in establishing libraries for popular use. Support lectures, which have for their object general information upon subjects of practical interest. Help in organizing literary societies, or ly- ceums, debating societies, and in all other movements which will promote inquiry, and inform and elevate the minds of all classes. 4. Finally, it will become your duty as a citizen, to contribute to the public morality. The strength and social happiness of a State depend upon its mm^ality ; consequently, he who demoralizes the community, is an 186 MANLY CHARACTER. enemy and a curse in its midst. A foreign force may be powerless, but a traitor is mighty for evil. Many States have success- fully repelled all foreign aggression, and have finally fallen by treachery. " One sinner de- stroyeth much good.'' A mortified limb en- dangers the whole body. An evil worker in society, is a firebrand among combustibles. A method of promoting the morals of the community, within the reach of all, is by example. Society has a demand upon all its members for a wholesome, moral example. Your words, spirit, and bearing — your man- ners and habits — will make an impression just so far as you are observed, and as you exert an influence. If your morals are bad, your contact is more dangerous than the plague. Never fall into the egregious error of sup- posing that you pass on through the world without being noticed, or influencing the char- acter and habits of others. You are making an impression every day, which is moulding the character and fixing the fate of other im- mortal beings. For this influence you are responsible to God and to the world. The love of God, and the best interests of the community, require that your example should be salutary — should promote the public morab and the general happiness. CIVIL MANHOOD. 187 ..^ --^ / It is the duty of the good citizen to do /^ nothing that would be a snare to others, how- ever innocent in itself, unless it is an obvious and imperative duty. Supposing it were a fact, beyond doubt, that you could indulge in the moderate use of intoxicating drinks, without the danger of becoming an inebriate ; still, if your example would induce others to indulge in the moderate use of the article, and they, in all probability, would become drunkards, it would be your duty to abstain from intoxicating drinks as a beverage alto- gether, for the- sake of those who would be endangered by your example. It will be your duty to uphold moral and religious institutions, as the most certain sup- ports of the State, and the most effectual means of promoting the general welfare. How would that citizen be regarded, who should be in favour of demolishing the churches, dis- solving the missionary and Bible societies, and suppressing the preaching of the gospel, and all public worship ? No one would consider him a true patriot. It would at once be said by ten thousand, who are not Church mem- bers, that all history proclaims the truth, that a State without religion falls and crumbles by its own weight. No true lover of his coun- try would wish our glorious Sabbath-school 188 MANLY CHARACTER. institution abolished, and the children, on the Lord's day, scattered abroad, running in the streets, or over the fields, like the wild deei of the mountain. As good citizens you will aid all these insti- tutions. You will consider society more happy, your own rights, and those of all others, more safe, in proportion as these institutions are well sustained, and exert an influence upon the public mind and heart. You will, conse- quently, see it to be si patriotic and social duty to give your means, your influence, and your personal efforts, to build churches, to circulate the Bible, to support preaching and public worship, and to sustain Sabbath schools, mis- sionary and tract societies. As a matter of course, you will feel it your duty, as a good citizen, to bear a faithful testimony against all public immoralities, and all demoralizing institutions, exhibitions, and practices what- soever. You will sustain the municipal au- thorities and the police in all proper efforts to restrain vice and to promote the public morals. You will do all this without fear or favour, or your citizenship will be '^ a price put into a fool's hands to improve," who " has no heart to it." You will fail to do your duty to so- ciety, to your country, and to your God, when- ever you come before the fickle multitude, and CIVIL MANHOOD. 189 are driven from your position as a supporter of moral order. The citizen, as well as the Church member and the minister of the gos- pel, is awfully responsible for the morals of the community. Lax morals in high places, in men of edu- cation and wealth, in officers of the govern- ment, in our professional men, are a most fearful evil. Especially for men who are sworn to keep the peace and defend the law, to per- mit both to be broken in their presence, is a monstrous scandal in a professedly Christian community. A portion of the responsibility, in all such cases, rests upon the private citi- zen, and cannot be shaken off. In all these respects do your duty as a good citizen, and as such you w^ill be respected and happy. To be a full-grown man among your peers, young gentlemen, is a thing entirely within your reach. Those who run for it, will reach the goal. 190 MANLY CHARACTER. VIIL-MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. «' WHEREWITH SHALL A YOUNG MAN CLEANSE HIS WAY ? BY TAK- ING HEED THERETO ACCORDING TO THY WORD." — PSA. CXIX, 9. We now have arrived at that point in our general subject, which relates especially to morals. I purpose to embrace in the discus- sion, the important principles and features of internal and external religion, or moral man- hood, as it relates to the heart and life. In the present lecture, I shall invite your atten- tion to the internal qualities of a moral, or a religious man. The first of these qualities which will be noticed on this occasion, is an enlightened, a purified, and a well-trained conscience. Conscience is defined by Dr. Way land to be a discriminating and an impulsive faculty of the soul. It judges of the right, and im- pels to it. It does this when it is not blinded or prevented by ignorance, by prejudice, or by passion. This faculty of the soul suffers, as do all our moral powers, by the workings of our native depravity, and the influences of education and habit. It often becomes so sadly perverted, as to call evil good, and good evil — darkness light, and light darkness. It MORAL AND RELIGIOUS -MANHOOD. 191 is the work of religion to educate the con- science, and save it from the perverting influ- ences to which it is subject, and even to "purge" it "from dead works to serve the living God.'^ Heb. ix, 14. The enlightenment of the conscience is noth- ing more nor less than such a degree of the knowledge of God and our relations to him, as will fix in the soul a conviction of moral obligation, and enable the judgment to dis- criminate between what is required and what is forbidden. This light is ordinarily com- municated through the medium of the Scrip- tures and the preaching of the gospel, ren- dered effective bj the influences of the Holy Spirit. The mind of man is naturally dark. " The natural man receive th not the things of the Spirit of God ; for they are foolishness unto him ; neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned.'^ 1 Cor. ii, 14. Hu- man philosophy could never enlighten the conscience; for the very idea of a conscience supposes the ideas of God and the divine law. A revelation only could give to man a knowl- edge of his true relations to God, and of the duties growing out of them. The consciences of the heathen are the result of a dim shadow- ing forth of the " eternal power and Godhead," 192 MANLY CHARACTER. from original revelations, and the operations of the Spirit on their hearts. Without these, " the invisible things of him from the cre- ation '' would not have suggested the idea of moral obligation ; and without the idea of a di- vine lawgiver, a law, and moral obligation, the idea of conscience could never have existed, because conscience passes judgment upon our conduct in reference to a standard of moral obligations. That you may have an enlightened con- science, you must take in the rays of spiritual light which come from the Sun of righteous- ness. Study the divine rule with great dili- gence and impartiality. Apply its require- ments to your own heart and life. Let the light of the word enter the darkness of your understanding. It is " quick and powerful, sharper than a two-edged sword, and is a dis- cerner — tcQcrcfcdg, a critic — of the thoughts and intents of the heart.^^ Heb. iv, 12. If per- mitted, it will enter every chink of the soul, shine into its darkest corners, and criticise all its motions and aspirations. It will also be necessary to improve the light reflected by the word upon the understanding and heart. The power of the soul to discern good and evil, and to be moved by the im- pulsions of conscience, will much depend upon MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 193 its exercise. Light unimproved, soon goes out in darkness. "And if the light that is in you he darkness, how great is that darkness !" The conscience, like all other powers and func- tions of human nature, to operate efficiently, must he exercised. We must accustom our- selves to moral distinctions, must cultivate our sense of right and wrong, until conscience hecomes quick-sighted and accurate in all its judgments. Conscience requires education. It is im- perfect, and consequently uncertain in its monitions, until it has heen trained and exer- cised in its appropriate work. Eight decis- ions will finally hecome matters of hahit, and constitute the rule instead of the exception. AH possible means must he used to bring this divine light in the soul to a proper pitch of intensity. The moral standard of the con- science must be raised to the high point of moral distinction occupied by God^s holy law. This result cannot be achieved by the mere unaided efforts of man. It is only when human weakness is aided by the divine Spirit, that the moral sense can be brought to this state of perfection. Diligent use of all the spiritual gifts which God has imparted to us, and the aid which he will impart in answer to prayer, will constitute the conscience truly 13 194 MANLY CIIAKACTER. " the voice of God in man" — or " God's vice- gerent on earth." A conscience thus educated, or disciplined, will be tender or sensitive. A feeling conscience is what you want — not one that has become callous. It may, by some, be thought desirable to have a conscience that gives us but little trouble, one that can endure a vast pressure without crying out, that can suffer terrible friction without feeling it. But from such a conscience, my young friends, you have as much reason to pray to be delivered, as you have from hell itself, for it is the certain pre- cursor of final and eternal ruin. An indurated conscience is the certain proof of divine aban- donment, and of a near approach to perdition. A sore conscience is far better than one hard- ened by the deceitfulness of sin ; a conscience too sensitive, is preferable to one that has no sensibility — the one may be trouhlesomey but the other is fatal Now, young gentlemen, may I appeal to your experience, in relation to the present condition of your moral feelings and judg- ments, in comparison with what they once were? Once you felt compunction when you departed but slightly from the counsels of your parents, and disregarded the early con- victions of childhood. How is it witli you MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 195 now ? Your feet have slipped often, and if you have not been careful to recover your position by repentance, and seeking pardon at " the throne of grace,^' you have been gradu- ally, and perhaps imperceptibly, gliding down the steep, until you have become delirious, and begin at length to hope for safety in some Avay, without the toil of retracing your steps, and gaining the ascent above you. Your con- science has been buffeted and mocked, until it has little power. It has been abandoned to passion and selfishness, until it is stultified. Deeds which once caused you much pain and shame, are now enacted with little or no re- morse, preceded by cool calculation, and fol- lowed by utter indifference as to the conse- quences. This, I fear, is an accurate account of the experience of some of you — I could hope not many — and is fearfully ominous of a most fatal catastrophe. For it is said in the good Book : " He that, being often reproved, hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroy- ed, and that without remedy." God sometimes awakens the sleepy con- science of the sinner, and gives him a foretaste of what he will feel in the future world. The following most graphic view is from Coleridge : — '* How deeply seated the conscience is in the human soul, is seen in the effect which 196 MANLY CHARACTER. sudden calamities produce on guilty men, even when unaided by any determinate notion or fears of punishment after death. The wretched criminal, as one rudely awaked from a long sleep, bewildered with the new light, and half recollecting, half striving to recol- lect a fearful something, he knows not what, but which he will recognise as soon as he hears the name, already interprets the calamities into judgments, executions of a sentence pass- ed by an invisible Judge ; as if the vast pyre of the last judgment were already kindled in an unknown distance, and some flashes of it, darting forth at intervals beyond the rest, were flying and lighting upon the face of his soul. The calamity may consist in loss of fortune, or character, or reputation ; but you hear no regrets from him : remorse extin- guishes all regret; and remorse is the im- plicit creed of the guilty." — Aids to Rejection, Aphorism xlvi. To those who have not yet reached this fear- ful point of apostasy from the " God of their fathers,'^ but still continue to listen, with more or less attention, to the voice of con- science, I would say, with emphasis : Pollow the dictates of this inward monitor in every- thing — tilings small as ivell as great He who begins to tamper with his conscience, knows MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 197 not how soon it may be abused into silence. Neglect its monitions in small things, and you will imperceptibly pass on from small to great offences. The strictest conscientious- ness is the only point of safety. One remove will probably be followed by another, and an- other, until all the barriers between you and perdition are broken down. On the other hand, the longer you maintain your integrity, the easier it is to do so — the more firmly you w^ill find yourselves fixed in the good and the right way. The certain and uniform law is, that conscience is strengthened by use, and enfeebled by neglect. The following is from the acute mind of Dr. South : — *' No man ever yet offended his own con- science, but first or last it was revenged upon him for it. So that it will become a man to treat this great principle carefully and warily, by still observing what it commands, but spe- cially what it forbids : and if he would al- ways have it a faithful and sincere monitor to him, let him be sure never to turn a deaf ear to it ; for not to hear it is the way to silence it. Let him strictly observe the first stirrings and intimations, the first hints and whispers of good and evil that pass in his heart, and this will keep conscience so quick and vigilant, and ready to give a man true alarms upon the 108 MANLY CHARACTER. least approach of his spiritual enemy, that he shall be hardly capable of a great surprise. " On the contrary, if a man accustoms him- self to slight or pass over these first motions to good, or shrinkings of his conscience from evil, conscience will by degrees grow dull and unconcerned, and from not spying out motes, come at length to overlook beams ; from care- lessness it shall fall into a slumber, and from a slumber it shall settle into a deep and long sleep, till at last, perhaps, it sleeps itself into a lethargy, and that such a one, that nothing but hell and judgment shall be able to awaken it. For long disuse of anything made for action, will, in time, take away the very use of it. As I have read of one, who having for a disguise kept one of his eyes a long time covered, when he took off the covering, found his eye indeed where it was, but his sight was gone. He who would keep his conscience awake, must be careful to keep it stirring.^^ — Nature and Measure of Conscience. Serm. 23. A guilty and an evil conscience has no rem- edy but in the regenerating influences of the Holy Spirit. It is in vain to resort alone to good resolutions, and try to make amends for the past by future watchfulness. As says Archbishop Leighton : " To set the outward actions rip^ht, thoui^h with an honest in ten- MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 199 tion, and not so to regard and find out the inward disorder of the heart, whence that in the actions flows, is hut to he still putting the index of a clock right with your finger, while it is foul or out of order within, which is a continual business, and does no good. O ! hut a purified conscience, a soul renewed and re- fined in its temper and affections, will make things go right without, in all the duties and acts of our calling.^' That a pure and peaceful conscience is an essential element of happiness, need not he proved; it will be recognised as a truth by you all, as soon as it is uttered. How im- portant it is to the great ends of human ex- istence, after what has been said, need not be discussed. The next great element of religion which I shall notice h faith. The idea of religious faith, which will be elaborated in this connexion, may be stated as the reception of divine truth upon competent evidence. The evidence upon which this species of faith rests, must amount to a divine revela- tion. It ordinarily comes by the hearing of preaching, but that preaching is the reitera- tion and enforcement of truth revealed in the Scriptures, and divinely attested. This faith is rational. It rests upon evi- 200 MANLY CHARACTER. dence wliicli is tangible and conclusive. Some degree of knowledge of tlie facts and doctrines of tlie gospel is necessary to Christian faith. There may be saving faith where this knowl- edge is very slight, but this is only in cases where the means of know^ing the elements of Christianity are few. With those in your cir- cumstances it is an imperative duty, and is absolutely necessary to a strong and opera- tive faith, that they should become acquainted with the Scriptures — with the facts and doc- trines which they teach. A slight examina- tion of the Bible w^ill bring home to your mind the fact, that it records miracles and prophecies which must necessarily imply the presence of divine wisdom and power, which, of course, gives divine sanction to the claims of the writers, and the records of Holy Scrip- ture. A careful reading, and a thorough study of the Scriptures, will be suggested by the high claims which they make, and will be necessary to a rational and stable faith. *' Search the Scriptures ; for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and they are they which testify of me.'' This mandate and reason are as applicable to you as they were to the Jews, for whom they were originally designed ; and, at least, as applicable now to the New Testa- MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 201 ment, as they were, when uttered by our Lord, to the Old Scriptures. All experience and observation will show that scepticism is the result of no knowledge, or, at least, a very slight knowledge of the Scriptures; that a weak and unavailing faith, or an utter want of it, is found where the mind has been left to its own native darkness and sterility, with- out the illuminating and cheering beams of inspired truth. Hence the importance of a large acquaintance with the records of our salvation, to an elevated and rational faith. By 7*ational faith you are not to understand a faith which grasps the mode and manner of all truths which are believed. It seems not to have been the object of divine revelation to explain the philosophy of facts or doctrines. The revelation simpl}^ announces great facts and principles without undertaking to explain their harmony with the laws of nature, or how and why they exist as they do, in prefer- ence to some other form or mode. A truth may be above reason, and not be contrary to it. A fact may be credible when the mode of its existence is beyond the grasp of the human intellect. That scepticism which will believe no truth of divine revelation, which in its mode of existence is incomprehensible, should 202 MANLY CHARACTER. doubt all tlie phenomena of nature which come under the -same classification. It is the office of reason to apply the laws of evidence to the claims of a revelation, and the laws of interpretation to its language, and then to pause in submission and listen to its utterances. It is not mere credulity, but ra- tional faith, to believe all that we find in the Scriptures, after satisfying ourselves that these Scriptures are the word of God, al- though we find many things there which we are not able fully to understand. It is by no means unreasonable to suppose that, in a book of divine revelations, there would be much which would require study, and the lapse of time, fully to develop its wealth of wisdom and truth. How unreasonable is it to sup- pose that a revelation from God should con- tain nothing but such simple truths as could be fathomed by all minds, of all ages and countries, at a single glance. It would be wholly unlike all other efforts of the divine mind. Nature has her mysteries, immeas- urable and profound, which are only be- ginning to be developed and understood, and yet no wise man denies her divine origin, or pretends for a moment to think her un- worthy of God. We ask you to believe nothing that is con- MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 203 trary to reason. In all matters which are level to the analysis and comprehension of reason, you are to follow its decisions. The old maxim of Tertullian, " Cerium est quia impossihile est '^ — it is certainly true because it is impossible — might suit the overheated im- agination of an ascetic, hut is nonsense with a Christian philosopher. Nor are you urged to strain your faith to a grasp of the mys- teries of revelation beyond the mere facts revealed. Sir Thomas Brown says : " I love to lose myself in a mystery, and it is my soli- tary recreation to pose my apprehension with those involved enigmas and riddles of the Trinity and incarnation.'' His, however, was a singularly constituted mind. Few, very few, are able to escape unharmed from such intellectual adventures beyond the regions of legitimate philosophy. The whole truth is expressed in these words of Leighton : " Faith elevates them not only above sense and sensi- ble things, but above reason itself As reason corrects the errors which sense might occa- sion, so supernatural faith corrects the errors of natural reason judging according to sense." The wisdom of this world subjects everything to the test of natural laws ; but faith, guided by divine light and spiritual influences, goes far beyond nature, apprehending things 204 MANLY CHARACTER. which are unseen. " Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.^^ The next idea embraced in faith, is submis- sion. The will must be made a captive bj the convictions, and w^hatever is found to be imposed or required in divine revelation, must be practically acquiesced in. The idea here presented is illustrated by the contrary course taken by the unbelieving Jews. St. Paul says : " For they, being ignorant of God's righteousness, and going about to establish their own righteousness, have not submitted themselves unto the righteousness of God.'' Eom. X, 3. They hardened their hearts against the convictions of the truth, and would not submit themselves to the righteousness of God — that is, to the gospel method of salvation. Christian faith is not a mere intellection — it has much to do with the heart. St. Paul puts the language of faith thus: "If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart that God hath raised him from the dead, thou shalt be saved. For with the heart man belie veth unto right- eousness ; and with the mouth confession is made unto salvation." Eom. x, 9, 10. The con- dition of the affections has more to do with faith and unbelief, than is generally supposed. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 205 Unbelievers usually plead the want of light or evidence ; whereas the main barrier in the way of their believing, is a bad state of heart — they are, at heart, opposed to the gospel, and will not submit to its terms, and, conse- quently, they try to furnish themselves with reasons for rejecting it. Christ says : "If any man will do his will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself.'^ John vii, 17. Practical in- fidelity is the fruit of ^ bad heart, and not of a deficiency of evidence. Those who consider faith the mere and the necessary result of evidence, do not understand its true nature. I speak now, not of that natural faith which credits the inforniation of the senses on testi- mony in relation to a natural fact ; but of that divine faith which receives €)hrist and his cross, the true evangelical faith which justi- fies the ungodly : that faith is not only the light of the understanding, but the concur- rence of the will. It is a volition, and a vo- lition moved by the power of the Spirit and the love of Christ. It is a moral exercise, and, consequently, a rewardable virtue, and not the mere accident of a certain arrange- ment of circumstances : so that the declaration of Christ : " He that believeth shall be saved ; and he that believeth not shall be damned," 200 MANLY CIIAEACTER. is every way consistent witli reason and jus- tice. It is when the process of faith reaches the affections and the will, that the sinner pauses and ohjects. A formal consent to the theoretical truths of the gospel is compara- tively easy, and most persons who have had a Christian education go so far as this. To submit to tlie way of salvation hy grace alone, to take up the cross and follow Christ, is quite another thing. Here the pride of the human heart rebels, and all its depravity offers a stout resistance. Now the heart must be broken with a sense of tlie evil of sin, and feel its own absolute wretchedness and help- lessness, before it will bow to the easy yoke of Christ. It will go about to establish its own righteousness, until it becomes utterly self-despairing,* and gives up all other pleas but the meritorious death of Christ as the ground of acceptance. Then, and then only, will it " submit itself to the righteousness of God.'^ This faith implies confidence, or trust It rests upon the truth of God. Confiding faith is more than a pure idea — it supposes an in- terest intrusted, something of personal value thrown into the keeping of God. St. Paul says of Abraham, that he was " fully per- suaded that what God had promised he was MORAL AND EELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 207 able also to perform/' Eom. iv, 21. He liad confidence in the promise of God ; he rested unwaveringly in his truth. It is no small matter to confide fully in tlie truth of God's promises in relation to ourselves — it requires a towering faith. This trust will apply espe- cially to the divine promises, but not to them alone. It embraces all that God has said — the truth of his revelations. It not only em- braces that which, to human reason, is proba- ble, but that which is against all human probability. Such was the faith of Abraham, that a son should be born to him in his old age : and also that God would, in some way, fulfil his promise, that '* in Isaac his seed should be called,'' and that Sarah should be *' the mother of a multitude of nations," when he was required to offer up Isaac as a sacri- fice upon one of the mountains of Moriah. There seemed a plain contradiction between the promise and the requirement, and yet the strong faith of Abraham overcame all the difl[iculties arising from the apparent discre- pancy, and firmly rested upon the simple truth of Jehovah. The great importance of the Christian faith which I have endeavoured to describe, can scarcely be estimated — it lies at the founda- tion of morals. Indeed, we can have no ra- 208 MANLY CHARACTER. tional idea of moral feelings without faith in God : and how there can be laid a broad and firm foundation for the superstructure of moral character, without this specific evan- gelical faith, we might challenge any one to show. The beauties of virtue — the health, wealth, and social happiness, which result from truth, justice, and chastity, have never yet been sufficient to induce men generally to conform to these great moral principles. Faith in the existence and government of God, in the mediatorial scheme, and in a future retri- bution, has been found the only solid basis of morals. This faith is equally the foundation of hoj^e and the spring of action. Where are there any stable grounds of hope for the future, or any adequate motive for painful, persevering toil to better our condition, or the moral condition of the world around us, but in faith — the faith that brings us to Christ — that justifies, sanc- tifies, and saves forever ? It Avould be easy to show that all other sources of encouragement, hope, and happiness, are utterly worthless. He who depends upon them, builds upon the sand, and, with his superstructure, will be swept away by the flood. Need I urge upon you, young gentlemen, the importance of this faith, to your safety MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 209 and happiness, botli in this world and the world to come? Perhaps you are just begin- ning to feel the cords of parental authority loosening, and you realize that soon you will assume the responsibilities of manhood. May- be you have just entered upon this state, and find yourself all at once, in a sense, your own man. What now, if your faith gives way, and you make shipwreck both of it and a good conscience? Or what, if you only be- come partially sceptical, with regard to the principles of that religion which was early in- stilled into your mind, which you drew in almost with your mother's milk? What, I ask with deep concern, will become of you, when parental restraint is removed, and you, as yet, have not become acquainted with all the wiles of the devil, or the snares of this wicked world, if your faith in the verities of revelation and in the obligations of religion have lost its power over you ? Your passions arc warm, your youthful blood courses quickly through your veins, the flesh clamours for gratification, the world flatters, and the enemy of your souls tempts you ; and if your faith now gives way, who, or what, shall save you ? O listen not for one moment to the suggestion that religion is a mere fancy, and the Bible a cunningly-devised fable. Turn aside from the u 210 MANLY CHARACTER. seducer, and draw near to the God, the Bible, the religion of your fathers. " A strong habitual faith in the Bible, in God, in Christ, in providence, in judgment, 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 appe- tites.'^ — James. The last great element of inward religion, to which I shall invite your attention, is a thorough renovation of heart What has been said of a pure conscience and an evangelical faith, of course implies the renovation of heart of which I am about to speak. The voice of conscience brings the sinner to reflection, and faith secures his par- don and acceptance, and a new creation. The renovation of the heart reacts upon the con- science and the faith of the recipient ; so that there is a reciprocal influence exerted by these elements of spiritual life. In the commence- ment, one may have been the antecedent, and the other the sequence : but in the process there is a mutual dependence of one upon the other ; and one is aided, furthered, and per- fected, by the action and influence of the other. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 211 Regeneration is tlie experience of a work of grace upon the heart, bringing into sub- jection its depravity, and shedding abroad tho love of Christ in it by the Holy Ghost. This spiritual renewing is a universal want. No man ever yet undertook to reform his own life — and who that has come to the years of ac- countability has not done this? — without being conscious of an inward current of wrong feel- ing, that he was not able to resist. He re- solved, and re-resolved, and yet remained the same ; or rather, waxed worse and worse. His vicious tendencies always mastered his judg- ment. He found the lines of Pope a most fearful reality : — " My reason this, my passions that persuade : I see the right, and I approve it too ; Condemn the wrong, and yet the wrong pursue." He finds a law in his members warring against the law of his mind, and bringing him into captivity. The case is beautifully and forcibly illustrated by St. Paul in the seventh chapter of his Epistle to the Eomans. This shows the utter futility of attempting to reform one's heart, and to form habits of morality and religion merely by repeated ef- forts of the will. A thorough change of heart througli divine agency, seems to bo the only remedy for fallen humanity. Nicodemus un- 212 MANLY CHARACTEIl. derstood not this doctrine of the new birth, and was stumbled, because he could not com- prehend the manner of it. He was " a master in Israel," and yet was so illy instructed him- self, as to object to the thing, because he could not comprehend the rationale, or the manner and philosophy of the process. Our Saviour refuted the objection of the learned Jew, by the use of a familiar similitude, all of which will be found in the third chapter of St. John's Gospel. There are many in these days as ignorant of the doctrine and necessity of the new birth as was Nicodemus, and who have need of the same kind rebuke and wise counsel. It is not material that you should under- stand the nature of the whole process, before you proceed to invoke the renovating power of the Holy Ghost for your regeneration. You must indeed know and feel that you are sin- ners, and that you need a spiritual renovation. You must then feel your utter helplessness, and the absolute necessity of a divine power to change your rebellious nature, and conform it to the divine will. Then submitting your- selves to the righteousness of God, giving God your lieart, to be fashioned according to his pleasure, by a decisive act of self-renunciation and implicit faith, you may have no misgiv- ings with regard to the result. You may not MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 213 know, nor need you seek to know, lioiv the desired change will affect you, or what will be the nature of the evidence by which it will be accomplished. You must take some of these things upon trust, and await the experi- mental Imowledge to bring you into possession of the particular kind of evidence you are too much disposed to demand in advance. When the regenerating power comes from above, you will feel its mighty workings, and will have an inward consciousness that your moral feelings are all completely changed, and you will feel and know for yourselves, that the hand of God is marvellously working in your inward nature, and mouldiug and fashioning all the fibres of your soul. When you become " a new creature" in Christ Jesus, " old things will pass away, and all things will become new.'' Your opposition to God and his government will have departed ; the love of God will be shed abroad in your heart ; joy and peace in believing will fill your soul ; hope will cast her anchor " within the vail ;'' you will love the service of God, the people of God, and even your worst ene- mies. The cross of Christ will be your de- light, and you will feel that " the kingdom of God,'' which is " righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost," is set up in your heart. 214 MANLY CHARACTER. Now tlie lineaments of the image of God, wliicli liad been effaced from the soul by sin, reappear, with more or less distinctness, and the soul is conscious of its own moral eleva- tion. Its true moral dignity and sublimity are re-enstamped upon it, and it realizes what St. John meant, when he said: " Beloved, now are we the sons of God." Here, young gen- tlemen, you have the true dignity of manhood. High intelligence, without moral character, receives no marks of reverence or respect from the heart of society. It may command empty and interested homage ; but to what purpose? All such outward manifestations are attended by secret abhorrence and contempt. What were the peerless talents of Lord Bacon, with- out fidelity to his high official trust ; and of Lord Byron, without the control of his pas- sions, and the personal purity which only sanctifies the social and domestic relations, and makes them even tolerable ? The fallen angels, doubtless, possess great intellects, but their moral qualities make them objects of alarm and detestation. A gigantic intellect associated with a bad heart, may constitute an object of dread, but not of either love or admiration. *' In the present age, one would imagine from much that is said and done, that knowl- MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 215 edge were tlie bread of life for the soul hun- gering 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 felicity of our present existence — and all we need for our happiness 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 knowledge, 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 Eome? Have they ever read what the apostle says : * For after that, in the wisdom of God, the zvorld by ivisdom knew not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them 216 MANLY CHABACTER. that believe.' 1 Cor. i, 21. It is something for his moral nature man needs for his happi- ness ; 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." — James, A character made up of an enlightened and pure conscience, an educated and strong faith, and a regenerated nature, with all the fruits which result from these inward springs of morality, is one of the most sublime and glo- rious objects in the universe of God. This is the highest style of manhood. Of the out- ward manifestations of the life of Christianity, I shall speak hereafter. Let me now fix upon your minds the doctrine, so strenuously en- forced by our Lord, that the tree must first be made good, that its fruit may be good ; that the fountain must be cleansed, that the stream may be pure. It is of the inward reno- vation that I am now speaking, and upon which I must insist with emphasis. Dear young friends, do not for a moment suppose that it will degrade or belittle you to bow before your God as penitents, and make the surrender of yourselves to him. He says: " My son, give me thy heart ;" — will MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 217 you not yield to so reasonable a requirement ? I despair of your ever building up a moral and religious character upon any other basis than that of a powerful and thorough conver- sion to God. This will set you upon high and vantage ground in all respects. This will bring with it the true dignity of man- hood — manhood in its highest and best estate. 218 MANLY CHARACTER. IX.-MOKAL AND RELIGIOUS MAKHOOD-CON- TfflUED. "l HAVE WEITTESr UNTO YOU, YOUNG MEN, BECAUSE YE ARE STRONG, AND THE WORD OF GOD ABIDETH IN YOU, AND YE HAVE OVERCOME THE WICKED ONE." — 1 JOHN H, 14. In this lecture I shall consider the nature and importance of practical religion. The religion of the New Testament is not a mere sentiment — it is designed to be carried out into active life, and to become a social blessing. If it were wholly a thing of the heart, it would be a matter of no public in- terest, and no man would have a right to concern himself about your religion, only so far as he might feel an interest in your per- sonal well-being. As it is a matter of public interest, it is fitting for all to be anxious that you iflay form a religious character. What that character implies, so far as the mind and heart are concerned, we have seen in the pre- ceding lecture. Now we proceed to inquire, how it should affect the outward expression, or the course of life, as it assumes a public character. In the first place, I urge that an experi- mental knowledge of Christ naturally leads to an outward profession of religion. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 219 The profession is ordinarily made "by uniting with some accredited branch of the Church of Christ. The Church of Christ is a divine in- stitution, composed of the collective body of believers. The ordinary mode of holding com- munion with the Church, and enjoying its fellowship, is by a formal connexion with some one of its living branches, and submit- ting to its instructions and discipline. Ordi- narily, I believe it to be the duty of every Christian to be a member of the visible Church. What branch of that Church he shall attach himself to, is for him to determine, and his choice should be directed by the ends contem- plated in Church association. The following are some of the reasons for which I would urge all of you, who are seriously striving to flee the wrath to come and secure eternal life, to unite with some Church. It will fully commit you, before the world, to the cause of religion. It is generally a great safeguard to our principles and course of action, to feel that we are committed, and that the public expect us to act consistently with our known princi- ples and our professions. This will result from a decent respect for ourselves and for the opinions of mankind. Every man has a character. That character cons ists j n the ^^r"^^ 220 MANLY CHARACTER. estimate in which he is held — what he passes for — and is made up of habitudes formed by a series of actions. A religious character, made up of religious habits, which are known and read of all men, will form the basis of the estimate which will be placed upon you as a Christian. An amount of fruit will be expected from you, precisely in proportion to the character which you will have formed, and resting upon an implied pledge you have made, and which you feel to be binding. Under these circumstances you will feel your honour as a man, and your fidelity as a Christian, most sacredly bound to the life and duties of Christianity. A con- stant sense of this obligation, and of the public expectation founded upon it, will be found a strong bulwark of defence in hours of peril. It is scarcely necessary to prove that a pub- lic profession of religion, and an attendance upon the ordinances of God^s house, are neces- sary to a religious character. It is too evi- dent to be disputed. It is the starting-point of a public religious life. It forms the basis, or goes far towards it, of the public expecta- tion that you will live the life of a Christian. Yoa need this formal public commitment to the cause of religion as a stimulant and a safeguard. If you undertake to be religious MORAL AND KELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 22 J. in a private way, so that you can give up the object without public disgrace, you will cer- tainly fail. This would indicate that you had not fully made up your mind whether to fight or fly in the hour of danger. Such a soldier would be sure to come out a coward. You should not only make no provision for a re- treat, but you should provide against it — you should do all you can to make retreat impos- sible. Like the famous conquerors, of which history informs us, who when they reached the enemy^s shores, burned their fleets, and as they passed on into the interior, broke down the bridges, you should do everything in your power to obstruct the way of a return to your former course of life. One method of doing this, and one under all ordinary circum- stances absolutely essential, is taking upon you the vows of Christ before the world, and uniting yourself with the Church. Your young heart will need all possible aids and stays ; and this is one of them, and one of primary importance. Another reason why you should connect yourself publicly with the Church, is, that it ^ill save you from a vast amount of temptation. If you are known to be an orderly member of the Church, you will not be treated by a class of young men, whose contact is always 222 MANLY CHARACTER. dangerous, as one of their number. Unless you foolishly invite their approach, they will stand aloof, and the farther they are off the better for you. They only need to know tliat you are not firmly settled in your religious principles, to put in requisition all their arts to lead you from the path of duty and safety. When they see in you the evidence that you are a thorough Christian, they will be likely to give you up to your own way. No evi- dence of indecision and half-heartedness is stronger than refusing, or neglecting, to make an open profession of religion. The impres- sion that you are not fully committed to the cause of God, will lay you open to a galling fire from all quarters ; while an intimate re- lation to the pious will secure their prayers and sympathies, together with a variety of social influences, which will cover you as with a shield from the fiery darts of the Wicked One, and make you strong in your position. Finally, you owe this public profession to the Church. While you seek the aid and sympathies of the Church, do you not owe her cooperation? Would you wish to go to heaven with the people of God, without making with them com- mon cause ? Ought you not to bear a share of the burdens of the Church, the scorn and MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 223 reproach which she endures, while you seek to share in her triumphs and rewards? Is it right merely to wish to secure the ends of religion, without enduring the inconveniences of a religious life in this world? No, my dear young friends, it is not the thing at all, this cowardly dodging of responsibilities. He that would gain glory, must hazard the battle ; and he who would win the prize, must run the race. You owe to the Church your sym- pathies, your prayers, and all the aid you can afford her, by the appropriation of all your talents for the furtherance of her prosperity. This, as a dutiful son of the Church, you will freely acknowledge as often and as publicly as need requires. For her fostering care you cannot return neglect and abandonment in the time of her struggles. The mother that bore and nurtured you, has claims for an af- fectionate remembrance, public recognition, and hearty and unfailing devotion. A decided public religious course is the only one you can take with any credit, or the least promise of success. You must not be ostentatious of your religion ; at the same time you must not conceal it. On all proper occasions you should make yourself known in your Christian character, and sliould be so related and associated, that your acquaint- 224 MANLY CHARACTER. ances will regard your position as by no means equivocal. If God has lit up the lamp of grace in your heart, it is not that ^' it may be put under a bushel. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your Father which is in heaven.'' By this means you will contribute your quota of influence to the honour and success of the Church. Profession is not everything that is necessary, and yet it is necessary in its place. Our faith in Christ, and our love for his cause, are only known to the world by their fruits, and one of the developments of these principles of spiritual life is an open avowal of them — identifying our interests, for time and eternity, with the Church of Christ. The condition of discipleship is taking the cross and folloiving Christ ; and certainly this implies all the scandal which will come from the world around us, in consequence of our identification with the fortunes of the Church. Her weal or woe must become ours, and of this we must make no secret. For the love of Christ, and ihe Church which he hath pur- chased with his own blood, we must lay all we have and are — our time, our talents, our honour, our earthly happiness — upon the altar of Christianity. If we are not willing to do this, we are unworthy of the name of Chris- MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 225 tiaiis. And when we come to this poin% we shall be prepared, on all occasions, to show our colours. There will be no evading the name and responsibilities of a Christian through fear or shame. Hence I counsel you, my young friends, that you first become hearty experimental Christians ; and then that you cast in your lot, for life, with the people of God. Again : a public profession of religion should be followed by a prompt and regular attend' ance upon all the public means of grace. St. Paul says : " Forget not the assembling of yourselves together as the manner of some is.^^ The public services of the sanctuary — such as the preaching of the word, the holy sacrament, meetings for Christian conference and social prayer — are imperative duties en- joined upon every Christian man. Without introducing particular proof texts upon the point, I would just refer you to the Acts of the Apostles for evidence of the esti- mate put upon these things by the primi- tive disciples of Christ. They are our ex- amples ; what was right and necessary for them, is right and necessary for us. The great Head of the Church, who knows what is best for us, and proper in itself, has made these condition^ essential to spiritual pros- 15 22G MANLY CHARACTER. perity. They also constitute what may be called objective piety, or the outward ex- pression of an inward vital principle of de- votion to God. The prophet says : " Then they that feared the Lord spake often one to another ; and tlie Lord hearkened, and heard it : and a book of remembrance was written before him for them that feared the Lord, and that thought upon his name. And they shall be mine, saith the Lord of hosts, in that day when I make up my jewels ; and I will spare them, as a man spare th his own son that serveth him.'' Mai. iii, 16, 17. As a Christian, it will become you to be mindful of all the institutions of the gospel, and all the appointments of the Church, made under the great charter of our salvation. Never profane the holy Sabbath, either by ordinary bodily or mental labour, seeking your own pleasure abroad, or by idleness and sloth at home. The Sabbath is a great relig- ious benefit, and should be improved with reference to our spiritual good and the spirit- ual good of others. Worn down and perplexed by worldly cares through the week, what a glorious privilege, and what a solemn duty, to spend the Sabbath in rest from worldly occupations and cares, and in recruiting the energies of the soul by holy converse with MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 227 God and the communion of saints ! For the time, cast off all worldly cares and studies, and give yourself to holy meditation, prayer, reading the Scriptures, and the hearing of the word. Such exercises will be found abun- dantly better fitted to restore your wasted energies, than going out of town in the cars or on a steamboat, than rambles over the fields, or spending the day in inglorious sloth at home. Meet all your appointments for social re- ligious intercourse with promptness and uni- formity. It is a shame to a member of the Church never, or very seldom, to be seen at the week-evening meetings of the Church — to be always absent from lecture, from the prayer- meeting, the class-meeting, the love-feast, or whatever regular or occasional services may be appointed by the Church of his choice. At- tendance upon all these means should be so uniform as to become a habit, and then it will be natural and easy. Moreover, the time to form the habit of orderly and uniform at- tendance upon the means of grace, is in youth, at the commencement of your course. Would you be a growing Christian — would you be an estimable, influential, useful member of the Church — would you not be a dead weight on the Church, and a reproach to the Christian 228 MANLY CHAEACTER. name — would you not peril your own salva- tion, and the salvation of others, you must he more than a Christian in name : you must he constant and uniform in your attendance upon all the ordinances of God — you must not neglect the puhlic means of grace. Much will depend upon the decision and earnestness of spirit with which you attend to your puhlic religious duties. Do not doze under a sermon, nor let your prayers freeze upon your lips. Be wide awake and deeply engaged when you are in the house of God. A religion that does not stir up and warm the soul, is of very little worth. We are exhorted to " turn away '^ from those who, " having the form of godliness, deny the power thereof.'^ If this should he your character, hoth the Church and the world would loathe you, and God himself would loathe you ; for the " luke- warm '^ he " will spew out of his mouth. '^ En- ter the courts of the Lord's house with a joyful heart, and praise God with gladness. Feel that it would be to you a far greater honour than any this world can afford, to " be a door- keeper in the house of the Lord.'' What a relish had the Psalmist for the worship of God, when he could send out, from the very bottom of his heart, such sentiments as these : ^' My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 229 courts of the Lord. One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple.'^ Such a spirit as this will always exhibit itself in the manner in which the subject of it enters the sanctuary, and deports himself while there. A serious, earnest demeanour, always charac- terizes the true and accepted worshipper, when he takes his place in the solemn assembly. He feels that the eye of God is upon him, and that he is a sinner, and God is holy. He heeds the wise counsel of Solomon : " Keep thy foot when thou goest to the house of God, and be more ready to hear, than to give the sacrifice of fools : for they consider not that they do evil. Be not rash with thy mouth, and let not thy heart be hasty to utter any- thing before God : for God is in heaven, and thou upon earth : therefore let thy words be few.'' Eccl. V, 1, 2. Another condition of worthy membership in the Church, is prompt and liberal attention to her benevolent institutions. A worthy member of the Church will sym- pathize with her in her concern for the world, and her efforts for its illumination and salva- tion. Li all her struggles in this behalf, and 280 MANLY CHARACTER. in all her burdens and outlays, he will take his part, considering that he is not introduced into the Church merely to enjoy her fostering care, but also to help fight her battles. I should hope, young men, to see you early engaged in the cause of missions, Sabbath schools, tract distribution, and Church exten- sion. There is a department for you — a post of duty suited to your capacity — in all these departments of labour. The missionary spirit — that is, a spirit of burning zeal to do good — should be early cultivated. That spirit will seek and find the appropriate sphere for you, and move you to action, and you will find yourselves happily and successfully labouring in a field " white unto the harvest." " Begin early to cherish a public spirit ; be- cause 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 only for himself in youth, will be a very niggard in man- hood, and a wretched miser in old age." — Br. Halves' s Lectures to Young Men, You may be inclined to think it will be too much to undertake to do something for all MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 231 tliese various causes ; but this is a mistake suggested by the great adversary. The more you do, the more you can do. Dr. Clarke somewhere remarks, that the old adage, that we must not have too many irons in the fire, lest some of them should burn, is a great error. Put into the fire, says he, all the irons you have, with shovel, tongs, and poker besides : for the more irons you have in the fire, the more work you will bring out. The idea intended to be enforced is, that those who have but little on hand, will do but little ; while those who undertake much, will bring- about larger results. The larger the amount of effort laid out, if the strength be not really overtasked, the more will power accumulate, and the more fruitful the results. The idle and the timid are feeble and inefficient. Finally, having now embraced all that I intended to say with reference to your con- duct in its more immediate relations to the Church, I have a word to say with reference to your intercourse with the world. It is not your intercourse with society, as a man or a citizen, of which I am about to speak — of this I have spoken already in an- other connexion — but your intercourse with men as a Christian, your religious character and bearing. A Christian man should be re- 232 MANLY CHAEACTER. ligious always. Be not startled at this propo- sition. It is an axiom whicli contains its own evidence. It must be true, unless a Christian is sometimes licensed to lay aside his charac- ter, and deny his Saviour ; and no one will assert this. The difficulties which, at first view, seem to surround the case, are removed by a slight explanation. A man is just as religious when he is engaged in his business as when he is at his prayers, provided he transacts his business upon Christian princi- ples. If you engage in some lawful and useful occupation, and transact your business upon true Christian principles, your religion is a daily and a public affair. This mode of busi- ness intercourse with the world is not so com- mon to business men, that it will excite no attention. I fear it is a truth — I am sorry to say it — that it constitutes the exception, and not the rule. A strict adherence to the prin- ciples of the gospel in the ordinary affairs of life, will carry conviction to that portion of the business world with which you come into contact more deeply and effectually than loud professions, but partially or doubtfully sus- tained by your e very-day practice. A truly Christian bearing should be the study of every Christian man, and especially of every young man who professes Christianity. MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 233 Upon this point I need not go into particulars. A deep and constant impression that you are observed by others, and that your example is making an impression which will be perma- nently beneficial or injurious, will give your social life a truly Christian character. I shall now proceed with a more general view of the duties, influence, and responsi- bilities of young men, in a moral and religious point of vicAv. Young men, in one form or another, are undergoing a process of preparation for use- fulness in active life : but it must not be supposed that they are to wait until this course of preparation is completed before they engage in active efforts to promote the in- terests of mankind. Their position has many advantages for a profitable outlay of influence and moral power in the midst of their prepa- rations for a position in society. There is not a college or school in the country in which a pious student may not be about his Master's business. There is not a manufactory, or a shop, or any other place where young men mingle together, in which there are not ways and means of doing good. Young men have more influence over their own class than any others can have. This influence should al- ways be laid out for good — the sj)iritual and 2o4 MANLY CHARACTEll. eternal good of the young, whose sympathies are with them, and whose characters may be moulded by example. As to the position of young men in relation to usefulness, a few eases only need be referred to as illustrations. Witness the influence ex- erted upon the destinies of thousands by a few young men in the University of Oxford during the last century. Their efforts to arouse the slumbering and relieve the wretch- ed, awakened an interest throughout the British isles, and constituted the early begin- nings of the new form of Christianity called Methodism. A small company of young men in college set this ball in motion, and it is still rolling on with accumulated power. M'Cheyne, while a student in Edinburgh, in company with some of his fellows-students, un- dertook the work of visiting, on the Lord's day, the most destitute and wretched portions of the city, and by circulating tracts among the poor and neglected, praying with them, and giving them a word of exhortation and advice, as occasion required, was an instru- ment in the hand of God of leading many of them from darkness to light. (See his Life and Remains.) Hurd, in the academy and in col- lege, was a most efficient labourer in behalf of his fellow-students, and was an instrument MOllAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 235 in the hands of God of turning many of them from the error of their ways. (See the Wes- leyan Student, by Dr. Holdich.) In these instances, and many more which might be named, the very field of preparation was turned into a field of usefulness. Hurd died in college ; but before he departed, had already made his mark upon the world, and left behind him fruit which continues to abound to the glory of God. Who, of my young friends, would wish to die without leav- ing behind him evidence of his having lived, and lived to some good purpose ? How much better a short and useful life, than one that is long and without advantage to the world ! Young men, let me exhort you to secure some fruit of your piety and charity as early as possible : for you may not live to fill a larger and more public sphere in the Church ; and for your talent to do good while young, the Lord of the vineyard will hold you to a strict account. Experimental, practical, active Christianity, is the perfection of manhood. Contrast in your mind an active, useful. Christian young man, with the aspirant for fame or wealth, or with the votary of pleasure. Consider them as candidates for a future, endless state of being. One is living to a good purpose ; while 236 MANLY CHARACTER. the other lives for naught. One is pursuing a substantial good ; while the other is pursuing shadows. One is laying in store a good foun- dation against the time to come ; while the other is purchasing for himself infinite regret and eternal infamy. The name of one will he as ointment poured forth ; while that of the other will be a stench and an abhorrence when he is gone to his account, and his hopes are buried. The aspirant for wealth gives himself no rest : he toils day and night ; he calculates and schemes ; it may be he accumulates a fortune. He is still restless and unhappy. He seeks more and more, and yet is as far from the goal as ever. All seek his friend- ship, and do him reverence. He lives a short time, and rolls in wealth ; but the time of reckoning finally comes. He dies, and leaves his wealth to others — perhaps for fools to squander. Here ends his earthly history ; but his eternal state, endless retribution^ now begins ! The aspirant for fame courts the applause of men ; he worships no god but fashion ; he caters to the public taste ; he gathers around him a large circle of admirers ; he ascends the highest pinnacle of fame ; he makes a mighty effort to ascend still higher ; he hears MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 237 one universal peal of applause ; he listens, tries to be liappj, but wants a little more ; is not satisfied, swells with pride, and begins to think that he has not yet attained to all that his talents and services deserve of the world ; struggles desperately for a still more elevated position, or to save himself from losing a portion of his popularity which he sees in danger, and, all at once, feels the ground under his feet giving way ! He drops into the grave, and all his glory vanishes into thin air ! The mere man of pleasure indulges himself in every species of excess. He follows the cravings of his animal appetites, until they become rampant, and, like the horse-leech, cry. Give, give ; he uses, or rather abuses, his senses until they are worn out, and cease to minister to his pleasures ; he becomes an ex- cited, feverish, rotten mass of flesh and blood ; he has been instrumental in leading others into crime, and now the human wrecks which he sees strewed in his path behind him, haunt his imagination. Full of anguish of body, and tortures of conscience, he passes into the -world of spirits to receive the reward of his doings. As an instance in illustration of this case, see the last hours of Thomas Paine, the famous infidel and libertine. Would any of 238 MANLY CHARACTER. my young friends wish to live such a life, and die such a death? I anticipate the answer. You would much prefer a life of steady, uni- form rectitude and usefulness ; a life of self- denial and piety ; a life of devotion to the honour of God and the best interests of man- kind; peace of conscience while living, and the grateful remembrance of the good when dead — even a life of poverty, and privation, and toil, and a death of glorious hope. " 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 necessity, live upon every winter — one kind yielding that which is bitter and nauseous, and inflicting severe pain ; the other that which is pleasant to the taste, and salubrious to the constitution — would you not be very careful which you selected and cast into your garden, knowing, as you would, what must be the inevitable result ? Why, this is your condition of existence and your employment. You are always sowing in youth what you must always reap in manhood.'' — James. Eemember, then, my young friends, that when you select your course of life, you take all the consequences which follow it. *' Be MORAL AND RELIGIOUS MANHOOD. 239 not deceived ; God is not mocked : for what- soever a mau soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption ; hut he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the Spirit reap life ever- lasting.'^ Gal. vi, 7, 8. May your life be such, that your last hours may be peaceful and happy, and your memory blessed. 240 MANLY CHARACTER. X.-TRUE MANHOOD THE WAST OF THE TIMES. "THE DEIVINGt IS LIKE THE DRIVING OF JEHU THE SON OP NIMSHI ; FOR HE DEIVETH FURIOUSLY." 2 KINGS IX, 20. ** PERILOUS TIMES SHALL COME." 2 TIM. HI, 1. Having drawn out, in some detail, the process of constructing a manly character, it will be in point next to inquire if there be not a spe- cial demand for such a character in our young men, arising from the exigences of the times. Manhood fully developed, and symmetri- cally formed, through the various stages of the world's history, has been the great con- servative element of society, and has been in high request. Some ages, however, have seem- ed to make a larger demand for this element than others ; and this age of ours is one which yields to none of its predecessors in its call for manliness of character — for men of the right stamp. The perils of the times are imminent, and the demand for a high grade of intelligence, and great strength of moral principle, never was stronger. New develop- ments of human genius and activity are con- stantly arising, and new dangers to the dearest interests of society are calling for vigilance. This is neither a stagnant nor a tame and quiet age. It is an age of activity, of enter- TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 241 prise, of speculation, of adventure, of philoso- phizing — and of both real and pseudo reforms. The natural inquiry is. What do all these facts suggest with regard to the character- istics — physical, intellectual, and moral — of the actors just about to enter upon the stage ? We should at once infer that an ordinary, commonplace genius would be illy suited to such times. Slotli, inaction, and mental dwarf- ishness, will necessarily either be fairly dis- tanced, or will become a prey to the active poison which is scattered broad-cast over the world through the most mighty agencies. The following detailed facts present the basis of the argument in favour of the position that the age eminently demands vigorous and ma- ture manhood. This is an age distinguished for its litera- ture, science, and philosophy. It is an age of great improvement. A sound Christian thinker says: "Let it be allowed tliat, in many things, the age is one of advancement. Thus much is notable, and beyond question. It would be unjust and unthankful, as well as untrue, not to allow this. I admit it ungrudgingly, not reluc- tantly or through constraint. Into much that is true the age has found its way, and in iicveral provinces of knowledge, unreached by 16 242 MANLY CHARACTER. its predecessors, it has made good its footing. Circle after circle has widened round it, and its discoveries are certainly neither shadows nor tinsel ; they are real and solid. No Chris- tian need fear to make this admission, nor think that by so doing he lowers the credit of the Scriptures as the true fountain-head of God-given truth, or casts dishonour upon him * in whom are hid all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.' " The mental philosophy of the age is, in some respects, of a truer kind than hereto- fore, though still cloudy and unsatisfying — nay, often stumbling into scepticism, panthe- ism, atheism. The science of the age is pro- digiously in advance of former ages. Its literature is wider in its range, and purer in its aim. Its arts are on a higher and more perfect scale. Its astronomy has searched the heavens far more extensively and profoundly. It — the age, we mean — has brought to light law after law in the system of the universe. It speeds over the earth with a rapidity once unknown. It transmits intelligence not only more swiftly than sound, but more swiftly than the light. It is restoring fertility to the soil. It can shut out pain from the body, in circumstances which, but a few years ago, would have racked or torn every nerve. These TRUE MANHOOD THE WAXT OF THE TIMES. 243 things, and such as these, the age has dis- covered and done ; and, because of these things, we may admit most freely that there has been, in some things, wondrous progress — progress which might be turned to the best account — progress for which praise is due to God." — Man, his Religion and his World. By Rev. Horatins Bonar. ' I might draw out, to a much greater ex- tent, the elements and evidences of the prog- ress of the age, but the above outline will be quite sufficient for my purpose. AVhat sen- sible young man will, for a moment, suppose that a low grade of qualifications for a position in society at such a period as this, will answer his purpose ? Could he expect, in a profession, or in any department of business, to maintain a respectable position against such competition as he would necessarily meet in an active, in- telligent community, without the grade of qualifications which would compare favourably with that of his compeers ? I tell you, young men, that the man that is a man, in these days of ours, is a man full grown. No puerile de- monstrations will answer your purpose. You will have to struggle with vast forces, and will need the nerve of a giant. Unless you are qualified to assume an influential position in highly intelligent society, you will neces- 244 MANLY CHARACTER. sarily fall under the embarrassments of one which, almost of necessity , will make you either a victim or a tool of superior strength and in- fluence. Unless you have already consented, in a sense, to he unmanned, you must he a man through and through — a man in stature and compass. You, surely, have not made up your mind to he a pigmy among giants, nor a dwarf among full-grown men. You are not preparing for a residence in the land of Lil- liput, but a country of hale, strong, tall men, — to be one of a community in which it is dis- graceful, even to children^ to be altogether ignorant of the history of the world, and of the improvements of the age. You cannot, you dare not, surely you ivill not, venture to mingle with the strife of the world at such a period, without due preparation. Let us now examine *' the signs of the times,'' and see what they suggest. Look at the worldly spirit which every- where prevails — the thirst for wealth, the love of money, the universal scramble for gold; the extravagance in outlay, the luxur}^ the sensuality, which show themselves in society ; the wickedness in high places, the ambition for office and place, the false-heartedness and chicanery of politicians, and the easy virtue of the multitude, who can be wheedled out of TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 245 their principles, or be cajoled into any course which, by sophistry, can be made to give the vaguest promise of utility. What is the pub- lic conscience? Where is the heart of the nation ? These are fearful queries. We have a sufficient number and variety of crimes of home-growth to fill the good with alarm ; but, in addition to all these, we are daily importing the crimes of the Old World, just as we are importing, from the same source, poverty and ignorance. When the records of emigration show that we are receiv- ing emigrants, at the port of New-York alone, at the rate of one tJiousand pef diem, and many of them — thank God, not all — from the moral sinks of the Old World, it is no marvel that crime should increase to a fearful extent. " The enemy is coming in like a flood f' what but " the Spirit of the Lord " can " lift up a standard against him ? '^ Again, just glance at the gross impositions which are palmed off upon the ignorant and credulous — the bold impostures, and impudent humbugs, which lead astray and bewilder thou- sands to their utter undoing. Such are tlie trickery of quacks, the deceptions of " science, falsely so called," and the mock revelations of base impostors. The tricks of these several trades are alwavs marvellous, and sometimes 246 MANLY CHARACTER. ingenious, but tliey are none the less sheer impositions and most cruel frauds. It is a melancholy spectacle — one which is enough to make a Christian blush, and a philosopher mad — to see the inroads which these base im- positions are making upon social and domestic circles. Numbers of honest, and, in some respects, sensible people, can be persuaded to believe that a silly girl can be put to sleep, and, with the utmost ease, be invested with ubiquity — pass over all the barriers of nature, and survey all her hidden recesses — revealing with unerring certainty the secrets of both the material and spiritual worlds. In another case '' spirits " are evoked from the unseen world, to give foolish answers to foolish questions, and that merely to put a few pennies into the pocket of a designing and wicked pythoness. That all this goes down with a multitude of people, and, of course, poisons their minds — weakening their faith, and injuring their vir- tue — is a most melancholy fact, and one to be well considered. The present is an age of radicalism. By radicalism, I mean a war waged against the ancient foundations of faith, of ethics, and of government. Extreme reforms are urged, and a vast amount of eloquence, and of a certain sort of learning, is put into requisition to TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 247 bring them about. In theology men are no longer content to credit the simple language of the Bible as it stands, but a recondite philos- ophy must be invoked to come to the aid of the inspired writings, before we are allowed to receive their teachings. The doctrine of the Divine existence is admitted, but in a form which turns God into everything, and every- thing into God. Pantheism or transcendent- alism is brought in to take the place of the teachings of Moses and the prophets, of Christ and the apostles. Inspiration is admitted; but in such sort as that Voltaire and Eousseau, Herbert and Bolingbroke, are to be considered instances of its illuminations, and, as to a knowledge of the laws of human progress, are made to occupy a position vastly in advance of Peter and Paul. In morals, that is right which ministers most to the gratification of the senses, or the pride and selfishness of the human heart. The old straight-jackets, which prohibit sinful amuse- ments, and enforce Sabbaths, church-going, and straight-forward old-fashioned religion, must be torn asunder, and consigned to an- nihilation. In political economy, unbridled liberty is the sum of perfection, and all conservatism is scouted as a relic of a by-gone age. The re- 248 MANLY CHARACTER. straints of law are instances of violence to hu- man nature, and are opposed to ^' the progress of the race/' The social system is all wrong — one man has as much right to possess a farm as an- other. Landlord and tenant, mastei and ser- vant, principal and agent, donor and recipient, ruler and ruled, are all antiquated notions, suited to the barbarous ages. Universal liberty and absolute equality are the natural condi- tions of society, and must be claimed, on the one hand, and conceded on the other, before the world will have reached its destiny. Woman must be invested with the rights with which nature has endowed her — she must be admitted to the learned professions, to a part in the government, to enter the camp with sword and firelock, to command vessels, to mount the stump, and attend the elections, and do whatever else she may take in her head, without the good leave of the soi disant lords of the creation. As to that old law of St. Paul, that makes ** the man the head of the woman,'' it is now quite out of date. Cer- tainly Paul did not consider that such a law could not bind woman, as she had no hand in making it ; those were dark days, those days of Paul. In carrying on these pseudo reforms a thou- TRUE MANHOOD THE WAXT OF THE TIMES. 249 sand voices are lifted up — the press groans most hideously — orators, high and lo^y, learned and ignorant, male and female, white, black, and copper colour, mount the rostra, and almost make the strong foundations of the earth tremble with their vociferations. Nor are our modern philanthropists content to wait for the gradual working of their princi- ples, but are in hot haste to carry out " the reforms which the advanced civilization of the nineteenth century imperatively demands." They move heaven and earth for the accom- plishment of their favourite projects. The philosophy of Germany and France is trans- lated into English, and preached in a thousand halls, by those who have not taken the time, or have not the sense, to understand its prac- tical tendency. Mere neophytes all at once become wiser than Solomon, and shed such a blaze of light upon the world, that the strong- est visual organs are blinded with excess of brightness. Those who do not take in the in- spiration are plainly told that they are " be- hind the age;" Eip Van Winkle like, have been asleep for a long time, and now that they have been aroused to consciousness, they ex- l)ect to find the world just as it was when they forgot themselves. The satire makes the ini- tiated smile, while the thoughtful are grieved 250 MANLY CHARACTER. to see sober views and common sense turned oat of doors without judge or jury. The present age is characterized by wonder- ful activity. Society is in motion. Everything is astir. The most inert masses are galvanized into life. Men rush here and there — they almost fly upon the Avings of the wind. The afflatus by which they are impelled from one extreme point to another, seems inexhausti- ble. Steam — that wonder-working power — has made the antipodes near neighbours. That modern miracle — the electric telegi^aph — enables our distant commercial cities to hold communication together, and to keep up the equilibrium of commerce. Shortly one man upon the shore of the Atlantic, and another upon that of the Pacific, will be able to ex- change morning and evening salutations ; the evening news of San Francisco will be pub- lished in the morning papers of New- York and Boston ! Men are constantly becoming more restless and enterprising — everybody travels — all have business abroad. People in the country, who once transacted their business with the country shop-keeper, now go to the cities, and sell the produce of their labour and purchase their wares — performing the trip in a day, and at the expense of a few shillings, which a few years since would have required TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 251 a week or two, and have cost them as many dollars as it now costs them cents. We are becoming a migratory nation ; no natural barriers, difficulties, or dangers, prevent our pushing off in every direction. Hazard is no obstacle to enterprise, and hope illumes the most gloomy prospect. This vast stir and commotion of the ele- ments, by some, is taken for progi^ess. It is certainly a sign of life. Whether it be a favourable or unfavourable symptom depends entirely upon the direction which things take. Without guidance the more rapid the move- ment the more imminent the peril. Without wise direction excitement becomes morbid, activity is hazardous, perhaps ruinous ; move- ment may be retrogressive.^ How shall the young escape — how shall any of us escape — the whirlpool of mad excitement and extrava- gant speculation which characterize these times and this country? The spirit is con- tagious, and it is not the spirit of benevo- lence, of public amelioration, of legitimate reforms, but of selfishness — a lust for gold and glory. The vast influx of foreigners introduces new and somewhat discordant elements into our American society. Unless these are trans- formed, by the action of some mighty agency, 252 MANLY CHARACTER. they will clog the wheels of State, and inter- rupt the harmony and uniformity of their movements. The foreigners who come among us to remain, do not always become Ameri- canized. A portion of them come with their own apparatus of education, with their re- ligion and their philosophy, all formed under despotic governments, and partaking of the ultraism, either of implicit obedience to au- thority, or of its reaction — unbridled license — scepticism or socialism. They come here not to be moulded by the genial influences of our free institutions, but to act as propagan- dists of either a heartless, godless rationalism, or of a semi-heathen superstition. The Ger- man and French schools are organized here, and are propagating their infidel philosophy and their socialism ; and the Jesuits are here, with their profound knowledge of human na- ture, and their arts of double-dealing and de- ception. Both have learning and genius, and are not to be put down by a puff of breath. " By good words and fair speeches they de- ceive the hearts of the simple.'^ They are able to make the worse appear the better rea- son, and not unfrequently do they " beguile unstable souls.'' The boldness with which the grand heresies in question are propounded and advocated, is TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 253 a remarkable fact. Their abettors seem to rely upon the mere credulity — or rather, to use a homely word, the gullibility — of men, and to feel no sort of responsibility for the forthcoming of reasons, good and strong, found- ed upon commonly acknowledged principles and facts. Their theories of philosophy, of tradition, or authority, as the case may be, are simply announced as axioms, and the faith of mankind challenged with the utmost confi- dence. All this seems to result from an as- sumption of a state of mind capable of this sort of treatment. It would certainly seem that so much confidence or presumption of suc- cess, must rest upon facts, indicating the state of the general mind of the country ; for the men who are eno^acced in the work of chano;e or disorganization, or whatever it be called, are not utterly blind — they at least think they see their way clear before them. If they were convinced that the opinions and faith of men could not be moulded by such means, they would not employ them. To refer to one illustration of what we are seeking to present. An indifferent spectator would read, in Brownson's Quarterly, the as- sertion that Protestants are not to be reasoned ivith, but reproved — that they are not to be as- sailed by arguments, but by authority — and 254 MANLY CHARACTER. laugh at the whole thing. He would quietly and pleasantly ask, how a man of common sense can persuade himself that anybody in this country — in the midst of this glorious nineteenth century — can be persuaded to give up his reason, and take upon trust the ipse dixit of another, who brings with him no cre- dentials of a divine commission, and seems to have no higher claims to infallibility than himself? This would all seem legitimate, and the vagaries of an ardent — not to say fanatical — convert to Popery, would be dis- missed as unworthy of serious thought. Others, who might be disposed to look a little more carefully into the matter, woukl be likely to inquire, How came this naturally strong but poorly-balanced mind in its present strange position ? What sustains it in that position ? Are there not others exposed to the same agencies and influences which have so effec- tually wrought upon him, and who would be swamped by his dogmatic teachings, and would seem to see something of divine aiithori- ty in the very extravagance, presumption, and impudence of his assumptions ? These queries followed out, and compared with the facts of history and observation, would lead to an im- pression that there is something to be looked after in this altered tone — this new phase in TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 255 Eoman Catholic tactics. It would at least lead to the question : How far the susceptibilities of the masses encourage the hopes of dogmati- cal teachers ? how far the public mind can be practised upon and misled by assumptions and a bold front? The very fact of such efforts, in such quarters, at such a period of the world, is suggestive. They are not to be isolated from the present aspects of the world, and the signs of the times. There is, doubtless, a vigorous effort now being put forth for the recovery of the well- nigh ruined despotisms of the Old World. A reaction in their favour is going on in Europe. As Americans, we now despise it. At the next stage of its progress we may begin to sympa- thize with it, at least in some of its forms. That this state of things is anticipated by the minions of " His Holiness the Pope,^^ is suf- ficiently evident. In the first place they boldly advocate the reactionary movements of the governments of the Continent of Europe. Then they justify religious persecution under those governments, upon grounds which would take from us all civil and religious liberty, if Eoman Catholics were in the majority, or if they had in their hands the powers of the government. We are also repeatedly told, by their high ecclesiastical functionaries, and in 256 MAXLY CHARACTER. their publications, that, being certainly in the wrong, Protestants have no right to freedom of thought, of speech, and of action, especially in matters of religion. That is, we have no conscience of our own, for whose safekeeping we are, personally and directly, responsible to God. That Protestants have no right to live, to think, and act, but by the Pope's good leave. And how is all this received? What is said about it ? A few political editors demur, and the rest are mum, while nearly all of them seem to have a sacred horror of that " religious and sectarian bigotry '' which Avould lay the axe at once at the root of the deadly Upas. Extreme sensitiveness is manifested by politicians in all questions in which the dogmas of Eome are concerned. Votes are sought to the prejudice of the great principles of liberty and the rights of conscience, and ho who remonstrates is set down as a narrow- minded sectarian. Now what does all this indicate? What lessons should be drawn from facts so startling and instructive ? By some we shall be met with a bundle of philosophy — the doctrines of hmian progress, and the splendid theories of the march and final triumph of free principles. All very fair, but opposed to some stubborn TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OP THE TIMES. 257 facts. What has become of liberty on the Continent of Europe ? A few years ago we were told, by these political theorizers, that, at the next upturning in Europe, absolutism would utter its last expiring groan — the sov- ereigns would leave their thrones, and become one with the common mass of the people, or lose their heads. When the Pope made some concessions to freedom, it was said he could never take them back, for the march of liberal lyrinciples is miward. The French and the Roman republics would be permanent, for there is no stich thing as an emancipated people going back to slavei^y. All this was glorious, and we tried to believe it ; we hoped it was the true theory of human progress. But what is the condition of things now in those coun- tries where hopeful republics were set up ? In Rome, the most execrable of all tyrannies, is ap- parently secure upon its seat — the Inquisition is in full blast, and the genius of liberty is just gasping for breath ! France is prostrate before the spirit of despotism ! A grand con- federation of the great powers of continental Europe, to crush the rising hopes of the world for universal liberty, civil and religious, is in a fair way to be consummated ! It is no doubt a fact that liberal principles have been making vast advances in the world 17 258 MANLY CHARACTER. within the last fifty years. In the meantime despots have not been idle, and they have somehow so managed as to send forward pow- der and bullets a little faster than liberty has been able to travel. The nations of the Old World have been in motion ; they have moved forward and backward, and laterally; but whether, in a knowledge of the theory of government, they are one hair's breadth in advance of what they were fifty years ago, is, to say the least, a debatable question. Let us, then, not be met with theories which have been demonstrated false by history, in oppo- sition to our position, that there are strong indications in the state of the public mind and heart that great obstacles are to be overcome before we see the millennium of civil and re- ligious emancipation. All is not right just yet. There are indications that despotism is preparing to fight over her old battles with liberal institutions. When her chains will finally be broken God only knows ; and if we of the " Model Eepublic" come out of the fire, into which we are likely to be cast, without being singed, it will be, not so much because of any inherent power there is in the idea of liberty, or because " mind is progressing," as because God shall have been with us, inspiring us with vigilance, and filling us with the wis- TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 259 dom which cometh from above. " Perilous times'' are upon us, and redeeming influences absolutely demanded. It will be seen that the field of observation I now survey is quite general — I do not con- fine myself to any section or to any class of the community. All classes are more or less interested in the state of opinion, of heart, and of morals, which, in various ways, is unmis- takably indicated. We are all interested in the state of the public mind, as we are all more or less affected by it, and as we have a fellow-feeling with our brethren and fellow- citizens. Did we only regard our own indi- vidual interests, we should still feel a concern for the state of the public mind, for the reason that the moral atmosphere of the community at large very much influences individuals. Our Saviour recognises this fact, when he says that " because iniquity shall abound, the love of many shall wax cold." Abounding iniquity naturally operates to cool the ardour of indi- vidual Christians ; and consequently their safety and progress are materially affected by the condition of things outside. An individual member of the Church, of course, will cherish a godly jealousy of the public faith and morals. I take my gauge from the public prints, — 260 MANLY CHARACTER. especially the newspapers, — public lectures, associations for purposes of reform, and a thou- sand other sources, which are open to the view of the critical observer. From these sources I derive the facts from which I make my in- ductions. Through them let us now look at the popular theory of progress, and see upon what it is based. Progress, as it is understood and taught by the blustering reformers of this age, implies a recuperative energy in human nature — the ability of society to remedy its own wrongs. Hence the modern prophets predict that all social evils will soon be cured, and man — uni- versal man — will be enlightened, free, and happy, because the human mind is upward and onward in its aspirations and efforts. The world is going on — this is the age of progress — hence old abuses and errors will soon be done away, and man will attain the bliss of a perfect social condition. This is destiny — everything indicates that we are hastening on to this glorious consummation. The doctrine, and the fact, of progress are made the plea for the introduction of all sorts of reforms. This is an age of progress — therefore this, that, and the other, must be done. The advanced position of society requires that the old order of things, both in Church and State, should TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 261 be done away. Matters were well enough arranged for our fathers — poor souls, they knew no better ! — but this is an age of im- provement, and things must be changed. Just as some of the citizens of our good city of Gotham reason for about three months every year. On the first of February, and thence- forward to the first of May, they say within themselves : " The day for * moving' is coming, and I must go * a house-hunting.' " So it goes with multitudes ; they remove from one house to another, no better — perhaps not so good — no cheaper, maybe not quite so cheap: but they have contracted a hatred of the ugly visage of the old landlord — or the boy he sends around on quarter-day — and hence they pull up stakes, and take new quarters, which are to be abandoned in the same way, and for the same reason, twelve months hence. The first of May is " moving-day ;" therefore these people must remove. This is an age of im- provement, say our modern progressives; there- fore we must demolish old fabrics, and build new ones, which will better suit the taste of the age. After all, what is the boasted progress of this age ? Among the recent publications, I have before me a sensible little book, by the celebrated Scotch writer, Bonar, entitled, 262 MANLY CHARACTER. ** Man, his Eeligion and his World/' In a chapter on " the theory of progress/' the au- thor gives us some observations which are worthy of consideration. As to those who make such an outcry in relation to the progress of the age, he asks : "Have they calculated the loss as well as the gain, the minus as well as the plus, and is it on the ascertained difference that they rest their congratulations ?'' And then proceeds : " If so, let them boast : it is well. If not, then their estimate is so wholly one-sided that no credit can be given to it even by them- selves. "It is a literary age — it is an age of sci- ence — it is an age of far-ranging inquiry — it is an age of action ; many run to and fro, and knowledge is increased. But still it may not be an age of progress. The amount of knowl- edge gained may be nothing to the amount lost ; or that which is gained may be so per- verted or ill-regulated, as to injure instead of profiting. " We hear much of the knowledge of the age. Well ; but has not one of its own poets (Tennyson) said, * Knowledge comes, but wis- dom lingers?' Yes, knowledge comes, but wisdom lingers ! Knowledge comes, but good- ness lingers. Knowledge comes, but the world TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 263 is as far as ever from peace and righteousness. Its wounds are not healed ; its tears do not cease to flow. Its crimes are not fewer ; its morals are not purer ; its diseases are as many and as fatal. Its nations are not more prosperous ; its kingdoms not more stable ; its rulers are not more magnanimous ; its homes are not happier ; its ties of kindred or affection are not more blessed or lasting. The thorn still springs, and the brier spreads ; famine scorches its plains, and the pestilence envenoms the air ; the curse still blights cre- ation, and the wilderness has not yet rejoiced or blossomed. Yet man is doing his utmost to set right the world, and God is allowing him to put forth all his efforts more vigorously and more simultaneously than ever, in these last days. " There is a secret consciousness of the evil of the times, even among those who have not the fear of God before their eyes. They see but the surface, indeed ; and yet that surface is not quite so calm and bright as they could desire, nor are the effects of the supposed progress quite so satisfactory as they expected they would be. They have their misgivings, though they cheer themselves with the thought that the mind of man will ere long be able to master all difficulties, and rectify all the still 264 MANLY CHARACTER. remaining disorders of the world. Accord- ingly, they set themselves in their own way to help forward the regeneration of the world and the correction of its evils. " Among these there are various classes, or subdivisions. There is, for example, the edu- cational class. It labours hard to raise the level of society by the mere impartation of intel- lectual knowledge — ^ useful knowledge,' * sci- entific knowledge,' * entertaining knowledge,' * political knowledge ;' in short, knowledge of any kind, save that of the Bible, and of the God of the Bible. There is the novelistic class ; a very large one it is, and possessed of far greater influence over the community than is generally credited. It has set itself to ele- vate the race by exciting what are conceived to be the purer feelings of our nature. Of one school, the standard of perfection is ro- mantic tenderness; of another, worldly hon- our; of another, bare rectitude of character, without reference to such a being as God, or such a thing as his law ; of another, it is good- nature and Christmas festivity ; while others seem to have no real centre of elevation in view — only they hope, by stimulating some of our finer feelings into growth, to choke or weaken our grosser and more hateful. There is the poetical class. They think, by the in- TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 265 culcation of high thoughts and noble images, to lift up the world to its proper level. With one school, it is the worship of nature ; with another, it is the love of the beautiful ; with another, it is chivalry ; with another, it is the reenthronement of ' the gods of Greece f with another, sentimental musings. These, and such as these, are the devices by which they hope to put evil to flight, and bring back the age of gold ! There is the satirical class. Their plan for meliorating the world is ridi- cule. Folly, vice, misrule, are to be carica- tured in order to be eradicated ! Ply men with enough of ridicule ; just show them how ridiculous they are, or can be made ; raise the laugh or the sneer against them ; exhibit them in all the exaggerated attitudes that the genius of grimace can invent, and all will be well ! Th e re is the philosophie class — large and powerful, composed of men who are no triflers certainly, but who are sadly without aim or anchorage. Give them but * earnestness,' and on that fulcrum they will heave up a fallen world into its true height of excellence ! Give them but earnestness, and then extrava- gance, mysticism, mythism, pantheism, so far from being condemned as ruinous, are wel- comed as so many forces operating at different points for the anticipated elevation. Give 266 MANLY CHARACTER. them earnestness, and they will do without revelation : or give them * universal intui- tion/ and the J, setting it up as the judge of inspiration, will make man his own regener- ator by making him the fountain-head of truth. There is the political class. They have their many cures for the evils of society, and are quite sure that, by better government, a wider franchise, freer trade, the abolition of ranks, the division of property, they will bring all into order and peace ; as if these could touch the seat of the disease, or minister to the real wants of a helpless and heart-broken world." Our author proceeds to other phases of the age. He says : — " Along with progress the age boasts of its liberality ; identifying liberality and liberal- ism. Let us see how far it can make its boasting good. True liberality is a blessed thing, for it is but another name for the love that * beareth all things,' that * thinketh no evil,' that * rejoice th not in iniquity, but re- joiceth in the truth.' With this, however, the liberality of the age has nothing in common. Its essence is, indifference to sin and error. Its object is, to smooth down the distinctions between good and evil ; between holiness and sin ; between the Church and the world ; be- tween Protestantism and Popery ; between the TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 267 belief of God's word and infidelity or atheism. %11 its sayings and doings in government, in the legislature, in society, in corporations or private intercourse, are based upon the axiom that there is no real difference between these things, or, at least, that if there be, it is not discoverable by man ; so that man is not only not responsible for acting upon it, but that it would be intolerance and presumption in him to do so. Kings are therefore to rule as if there were no such distinction, forgetting by Avhom they reign. Judges are to know no such distinction, forgetting that they are to judge * in the fear of the Lord.' Society is to be constructed without reference to any such distinction ; as if the Bible were not the basis of all society ; as if the Book which God has w^ritten were unsuitable for the regulation of the world which he created. But is not this calling good evil, and evil good — putting dark- ness for light, and light for darkness — putting bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter ?" If I am not blind to the true indications of the public morals, iniquity, in its various forms, is becoming fearfully prevalent and impudent. Just look at the snares which are set for the feet of our youth, and the fatal success which follows them. Passing over — as too loathsome and indeli- 2G8 MANLY CHAEACTER. cate for description — the dens of vice wliich are situated behind the screen, secreted froi» the public eye, I will invite attention to the machinery which is constantly before our eyes, employed in manufacturing victims for these abominable retreats. The first of this class which I Avill notice is the liquor-selling establishments. These are scattered over the country everywhere — but are especially abundant and active in our cities. It is not the low groggeries which are the most dangerous to the unsuspecting, but it is the splendid saloons, with painted win- dows and elegant furniture. Here the gins are set for the feet of the unsuspecting, con- cealed, at least in a measure, from the view. Here the way to poverty, disease, and death — ay, and the way to hell! — is strewed with flowers, and ornamented with all that is pleas- ing in the refinements of art and the inspira- tion of music. Activity, gayety, and mirth are here. Old friendships are strengthened and new ones formed, and wit and beauty are laid under contribution to gild the scene. Here it is that the taste is contracted, and the associations formed, which lead to con- firmed habits of intemperance, and prepare the candidates for the honours of drunkenness, to graduate doivnwardy to the filthy holes, TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 269 wliere some one, in the shape of a man — or a woman — deals out death and perdition, at a penny a drink ! The schools of intemperance reverse the ordinary course of things. They graduate their pupils upon the descending scale; they begin high, and end low. The first class are composed of fine gentlemen — at least decent and respectable citizens — perhaps of the young men of our best families. They begin with champagne, and proceed through the various classes of wines, brandy, Holland gin, old Jamaica, down to Irish and American ^vhisky, applejack, old hard cider, Albany ale, and strong beer. They begin with mirth and gayety, and descend to headache and heart- ache. They commence with a clear under- standing, strong nerves, and a steady step, and go down to delirium tremens. They start with a seat upon a splendid sofa, and hasten on to the gutter. They commence with an entrance upon the devil's ground, under the strongest protestations that they will never swerve a hair's breadtli from the line of pro- priety, and with a tolerable stock of consci- entiousness, but end in a drunkard's grave, and a drunkard's hell. Turn your attention from the groggeries to the theatres, Tliese institutions are made at- tractive to the eye, the ear, and the depraved 270 MANLY CHARACTER. heart. Their professed object is to amuse and instruct ; but the real one is to cater to the depraved taste of the vicious, the idle, and the restless. The morality of the stage has al- ways been more than doubtful ; at present it is a fixed fact, that its entire machinery and appendages are sadly destructive of good morals. The moral deformity of these schools of vice is indeed covered over with beautiful drapery. The unwary are interested and charmed, amused and tickled, that they may receive a stab which will prostrate them for- ever. They are fattened and pampered against the day of slaughter, when they are to be laid upon the altar of some filthy divinity. What parent would be willing to subject his children to such influences as those which surround the stage ? Who can observe the immense amount of capital invested in thea- tres in our cities, and the vast patronage ex- tended to them, without serious concern for the rising generation ? Who would attend theatrical exhibitions for the purpose of im- proving his understanding or heart ? The very idea is absurd. Did any one ever leave a play with stronger convictions of duty, a hio:her sense of moral obligation, a diminution of his evil propensities, or more power over the evils of his nature than before he witnessed TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 271 the scene? Moreover, who ever improved his fortune by theatre-going? These questions can only be answered in one way. I am strongly tempted to continue my observations much farther, but must here desist. My object is a word of caution to the heedless youth who may be inclined to put himself in the way of danger — perhaps certain ruin. To such I would address the words of Solomon : " Enter not into the path of the wicked, and go not in the way of evil men. Avoid it, pass not by it, turn from it, and pass away. For they sleep not, except they have done mischief; and their sleep is taken away, unless they cause some to fall. For they eat the bread of wickedness, and drink the wine of violence. But the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. The way of the wicked is as dark- ness ; they know not at what they stumble.^^ I shall close this lecture with a brief allu- sion to a subject upon which a volume might be written. Perhaps the leading fact which will give character to this age, upon the re- cords of future history, is the discovery of vast mines of gold on the Pacific coast. Al- ready this event is opening a multitude of new avenues to wealth, and afiPecting tlie com- merce of the world. Not pretending to doubt 27-2 MANLY CHARACTER. but that this wonderful discovery is under the guidance of Divine Providence, and will be overruled for great and good purposes, still it brings with it emergencies and dangers which can but deeply impress thoughtful minds. I introduce this subject not merely for the benefit of those young men who will float off westward with the tide of adventurers to seek their fortune, but for more general purposes This new and vast source of wealth will nec- essarily be attended with various and serious evils to the community generally, but especially to our young men. Wealth acquired rapidly, without the ordinary process of preparation for it, has a tendency to impress the mind and heart with false views of the world and of the value and right use of money. It leads to excessive expenditures, luxury, pride, the love of money, hardness of heart, undue re- gard to self, and the extinguishment of the sympathies of the soul for the poor and the wretched. Eiches, under any circumstances, have a tendency to sensualize the soul ; that is, to make it insensible to all other interests but those of this world. Moral considerations are lost sight of, when wealth becomes the paramount object. There is a natural ten- dency in riches to take possession of the heart ; but there is especial danger of this when they TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT 0¥ THE TIMES. 273 are suddenly acquired. The history of the world affords ample illustrations of the fact, tliat the slow process of acquiring wealth by the cultivation of the soil, is attended with infinitely less hazard than the sudden accumu- lation of a fortune by commercial enterprises. The vast influx of wealth, through some sud- denly developed channel, has always been attended by luxury, effeminacy, and the whole family of vices. The morals of the youth have always suffered from this cause, and the result in some cases has been the ruin of the State. The propensity to overreaching, swindling, and oppressing the poor — to take all possible advantages of men's necessities — is another f r ui t of wealth suddenly acqui red. Upon these immoralities I cannot enlarge. A graphic writer gives us the following striking view of the subject : — " Gold, well gotten, is bright and fair ; but there is gold which rusts and cankers. The stores of the man who walks according to the will of God, are under a special blessing ; but the stores which have been unjustly gathered are accursed. * Your gold and your silver is cankered; and the rust of them shall be a wit- ness against you, and shall eat up your flesh as fire.' Far better have no gold at all, than 18 274 MANLY CHARACTER. gold with that curse upon it. Far better let cold pinch this frame, or hunger gnaw it, than that the rust of ill-gotten gold should eat it up as fire/^ — The Successful Merchant, hy Bev. William Ai^thur, As gold increases, commerce enlarges its sphere, and a tide of wealth comes in upon us ; temptations will be multiplied, worldly ex- citement will inflame the passions of the masses, and the young and ardent will stand a fair chance to be early victims to the raging fever, which will be as contagious and as fatal as the plague. The question, '' How shall I become independently rich ?" will absorb the whole attention. Usefulness, happiness, every- thing, will be left out of sight — while the miserable passion for wealth hurries its victim on, with a sort of insane fury, to the goal he seeks. Under such an influence, moral mo- tives lose their power. The conscience becomes first blinded, then hardened — yea seared. The young adventurer drives on in his course without either the guidance of moral principle or sound discretion, until lie becomes a moral wreck. His reputation, his prospects for this world, and his hopes for the future, are all buried together in some haunt of vice, and his memory is blotted out. The spirit — I might say the fanaticism — of TRUE MANHOOD THE WANT OF THE TIMES. 275 tlie wreckless adventurer of these times, being both irrational and morally wrong, is sure to end in ruin. If he succeeds in acquiring wealth, he is ruined by the love of money and the pride of its possession ; and if he does not succeed, he is ruined by the mortification and desperation of disappointment. His mad ex- citement is a maelstrom, from whose fatal circles escape is almost impossible. How many young men have been drawn into it, and sunk to rise no more forever ! Their sad memorials are scattered all along the Pacific coast, and their friends — perhaps their aged "parents — live to lament their folly, and execrate the " lust of gold.'' Such is our age — such are its perils. Now, young gentlemen, take a view of the prospect — survey the ground wisely and thoroughly — and see what course will be dictated by the maxims of common prudence. That those who are to contend with the fierce and stormy elements of these times, will need special qualifications, you cannot for a moment doubt. If you would not make shipwreck of your prospects of usefulness and happiness — if you would take your appropriate place in the fierce struggle upon which you are about to enter — if you would help to save the world from the influence of the destructive elements which 276 MANLY CHARACTER. are at work — if you would be prepared for the emergencies of the times upon which Provi- dence has cast your lot — you must show your- selves men. If in any past age intellectual and moral feebleness would be sufficient for existing exigencies, such is not the case now — such will never be the case again to the end of time. The day of mighty activity has broke, and is never to close but with the termination of the evils of this world, and the renovation of the race. -.JXlX^Jtm^ THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 277 XI.-THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. "young MEX likewise EXHOrwT TO BE SOBER-MINDED." — TITUS n, 6. " FOR WHICH OF YOU, INTENDING TO BUILD A TOWER, SITTETH NOT DOWN FIRST, AND COUNTETH THE COST, WHETHER HE HAVE SUFFICIENT TO FINISH IT ? LEST HAPLY AFTER HE HATH LAID THE FOUNDATION, AND IS NOT ABLE TO FINISH IT, ALL THAT BEHOLD IT BEGIN TO MOCK HIM, SAYING, THIS MAN BEGAN TO BUILD, AND WAS NOT ABLE TO FINISH. OR WHAT KING, GOING TO MAKE WAR AGAINST ANOTHER KING, SITTETH NOT DOWN FIRST, AND CONSULTETH WHETHER HE BE ABLE WITH TEN THOUSAND TO MEET HIM THAT COMETH AGAINST HIM WITH TWENTY THOUSAND ? OR ELSE, WHILE THE OTHER IS YET A GREAT WAY OFF, HE SENDETH AN AMBASSAGE, AND DESIRETH CONDITIONS OF PEACE." — LUKE XIV, 28-32. In this lecture I shall endeavour to give you some thoughts upon the subject of adjustment or adaptation to the circumstances of the times. Upon this, my young friends, much will depend, and without it your future is not by any means promising. By what means you will be able to meet your responsibilities, and adjust yourselves to the peculiar features of the age, is the great question which I now propose to discuss, and to which I hope to have your earnest attention. You are soon to enter the arena, and to contend for the prize of a good, substantial, practical character. You should well con- sider what is before you, and be thoroughly 278 MANLY CHARACTER. prepared for all emergencies. It will not do for you to enter upon the active duties of life without a knowledge of these duties — a knowl- edge of all their special relations and bear- ings, of the difficulties which they involve, the qualifications they demand, and the issues which depend upon them. It w^ould be absurd for any one to undertake a clerkship without a knowledge of figures — to assume the com- mand of a ship, without a knowledge of navi- gation — to attempt to discharge the duties of an advocate, without the study of law — or those of a clergyman, without the knowledge of di- vinity — or for an actor to ascend the stage, without previous drilling. All these would be absurdities almost too glaring to be sup- posed possible ; and yet they are scarcely more at war with common sense and common j)ru- dence, than would be the course of the young man who would consent to enter upon the theatre of action without due preparation. He should certainly know what he is going about ; lest, like an unsuccessful actor, he should be hooted from the stage. Would you not disgrace yourselves and your friends, you must prepare for a manly struggle. You are about to enter the lists and contend for the prize in the presence of thousands of anxious cind eagle-eyed spectators ; will yon " fight as THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 279 one who beateth the air ? ^^ The race you are to run will require your utmost speed ; will you not " lay aside every weight T^ Let us now endeavour to ascertain what will qualify you for the great struggle. What I have presented in the preceding lectures, upon the formation of a manly char- acter, embraces a great variety of important maxims which will require your serious con- sideration, and which, if properly heeded, will go far towards a preparation for active life in any state of society. What I now have to say will be partly of a more specific character, having special relation to the indications and demands of the times upon which you are cast, and the country in which you live — and partly of a more general nature, embracing the combination and application of the par- ticular instructions previously given. " You must prepare to live by taking up and fixing in your raind in early youth, cer- tain 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 obey- ed ; 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 280 MANLY CHARACTER. may yield, is absolutely a dreadful evil, and ought to be avoided ; that nothing ought to be done which must afterwards be repented of ; that judgment and conscience must always prevail over inclination ; that no good in any- thing is to be expected without effort and la- bour ; 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 be done once; that what should be done at all, should be always well done ; and that tlie future should predominate over tlie pres- ent.'^ — J, A, James. Young 3Ian\s Friend and Guide tJirovgh Life to Immortaliti/. It will be obvious that tliorough prepara- tion for the duties ""of an active member of society will require, an accurate and thorough knowledge of the state and tendencies of the public mind at the time when, and in the country where, you are destined to be an actor. In the preceding lecture we have briefly surveyed the aspects of the times — the facts and circumstances which must be taken into account in an estimate of the peculiar quali- fications of an actor in the scenes of tlie future. The tliorough study of the mind and heart of the present generation of men, will be in- dispensable. The future is foreshadowed by THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 281 the present. At least it is morally certain that the next generation will be in advance of the present in its intellectual elevation, and not behind it in activity. With the prospective progress in commerce and national wealth, we may also be sure that the imminent dan- gers of the present will be enhanced with the lapse of time. It will consequently be safe to take our gauge of the demands which will be made upon you, young gentlemen, from the existing state of society. Turn your eyes then upon the prospect before you, guided by the light of existing facts, and the history of the past. See the intelligence with Avhich you will be associated, and with which you must compete ; carefully mark the immense activity of the masses ; see the intense excitement which everywhere prevails ; look at the rapid pulsations of the public heart, indicated in the flushed, cheek, hurried utterance, and quick step of all you meet ; observe the radicalism, the ultraisms, the recklessness, the destructive- ness, which mark the movements of our great reformers ; consider well the moral phases of society, the religious indifference, the heart- less infidelity, the love of money, the intem- perance, swindling, robbery, and murders, so fearfully rife everywhere ; look at the inroads of Popery on tlie one hand, and Socialism on 282 MANLY CHARACTER. the other; and with all this complication of circumstances — not to say anomalies — ask yourselves whether the man for the times must not possess rare qualifications of body, intel- lect, and heart. The whole scene must be surveyed with the eye of a philosopher and a Christian. The relations and dependencies of the facts before you, their causes and their practical results, must be thoroughly studied. A mere glance at the most prominent facts which are transpiring day after day will not do. They must be analyzed and sifted ; they must be viewed in every possible light. The current events of the day must be so thoroughly studied as to be connected with great general issues, and to furnish the means of important inductions with regard to the great future. When you mark the extraordinary features of this age, you should ask with solicitude : Whereunto will all this grow? What prac- tical lesson does it teach? What special obligation does it impose ? What is it to me? To acquire the information which I here urge, a young man must be a careful and diligent observer of men and things — of man- ners and habits — of the developments and tendencies of the mind of the nation, and the THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 283 mind of the world. He must read, converse, and think, and be sure that he does more of the last than of the two preceding. Would you have the suitable qualifications to act in relation to existing circumstances, you must be an independent thinker — must be no man's mouth-piece, copy no one. Mere apes we have in abundance ; but men of independent thought are too rare in these days. Eeading is com- mon, gossip is abundant — but reflection and study are nearly given up to the class which have no use for them, such as take no part in the busy scenes of life. Our active business- men read the newspapers, and keep up with the progress of the market, state of stocks, imports and exports ; but what all the turmoil of modern society is to result in, they scarcely give a thought. As for elaborate reading, that is quite too uninteresting — and hard thinking^ excepting about dollars and cents, and the chances of loss and gain, is to them head- breaking drudgery. How little they are likely to appreciate the signs of the times, will be sufficiently obvious. Commerce and business have an influence upon the intercourse of nations and upon gen- eral civilization. It is pitiable for men of soul and genius to be deeply concerned in it without ever lookino; bevond the influences it 284 MANLY CHARACTER. exerts upon their petty pecuniary interests. The great discoveries of the age — the use of steam, in furnishing facilities for travelling upon land and for crossing the ocean, the mag- netic telegraph, and the results of geological, ethnological, and antiquarian investigations — all have great ends in prospect. They are already working vast changes in the state of society, and quickening the pulsations of the world. Those who consider these great exhi- bitions of human genius as mere facilities for business and avenues of wealth, have taken a miserably contracted view of the subject, and cannot be said to have entered at all into the spirit of these momentous times. Their views are exceedingly narrow, and show an utter want of adjustment to the actual condition of things. Would you, young gentlemen, pre- pare yourselves to fill only a respectable posi- tion, you must take broad and far-reaching views of the advances and changes of society — you must consider the present in connexion with the future ; you must not isolate the natural and material from the moral and spir- itual — you must look above the mere changes and revolutions which are passing about you, to the wise supervision which sits enthroned in heaven ; you must consider the visible as intimately related to the invisible, and time THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 285 as destined to merge itself in eternity. Such are the views necessary to a man for the times. From what has been said, it will obviously be suggested that the duties and responsi- bilities which will devolve upon the young men of these times will require untiring in- dustry. We have seen that activity constitutes the leading feature of this age. Men are unpre- cedentedly active, and the very laws of the material universe seem to sympathize with men in this disposition. While the whole world is moving on, can you remain in a state of quiescence? Evil agencies are unboundedly active. " The devil, like a roaring lion, goeih about seeking Avhom he may devour f^ and his subordinate agents are active like himself. Truth and righteousness on foot, will be hard set to keep pace with error and sin driven by a locomotive. Those engaged in working against you, and against the best interests of society, will rise early and sit up late, and eat the bread of carefulness ; and how are you to make head against them without the utmost activity? In these times of hurry and bustle, of stir and excitement, nothing can be done to purpose without great exer- tions. Habits of industry will be found more than ever necessary as the progress of the 286 MANLY CHARACTER. world is quickened, and society becomes more deeply and powerfully moved by the spirit of the age. The business will all be done by the active and enterprising, and the tardy will have no employment, and, consequently, no bread. All the places of honour and profit will be secured early in the morning, while the sluggard is sleeping and dreaming of the chances of fortune. When Adam Clarke was young, he saw a copy of the Greek Testament of Erasmus advertised. Early the next morn- ing he hastened to the place, and secured it. Some time before noon, a celebrated scholar called, and inquired for the book. "You are too late ; it is gone,'' was the reply. " Too late ! '' exclaimed the gentleman ; " why I came as soon as I had taken my breakfast.'' The answer was: "Adam Clarke came and pur- chased it before breaJcfast^^ So, my young friends, if you would win the prize in these times of enterprise and activity, you must be on the alert — you must rise early and work diligently — or, just as you fancy you are about to lay hold of some grand object, an- other will seize it ; and you will see and feel the dreadful import of that sentence, Itvas too late ! While I delayed, another stepped in and superseded me. I would Avarn you, young gentlemen, against THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 287 habits of idleness, as the most certain pre- cursors of worthlessness and ruin. It is mean and degrading to be idle, and just as bad to be employed about trifles. For a young man to have places for spending an idle hour in play- ing at games of chance, or in unprofitable gossip, is disgraceful and ruinous. Idleness is the parent of many vices, and door-way of a thousand temptations. A nervous and elegant writer, whom we have already several times quoted, says : *' An indo- lent young man invites temptation, and will soon become a prey to it. Indolence unmans the faculties, impairs and debilitates the whole intellectual system. One way or other, be always employed. An idle man is the most miserable of all God's creatures; a contra- diction 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 in your soul alive and glowing by action. The diligent man is the protected man. .Temptation comes and addresses him, but he is preoccupied ; 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 288 MANLY CHARACTER. vacuum ; and if nature does not, you should." — James, Whatever your position in society may be, diligence in business will be found indispen- sable to honourable success. If you engage in a profession, close application to business only will secure public confidence, procure you busi- ness, make you useful in your calling, and insure an honourable livelihood. If a mer- chant, a mechanic, a farmer, or anything else that you can be, religiously and honourably, diligence will be found an indispensable con- dition of success. The day for idlers has passed, and the race is nearly extinct. All the lazy drones are now active scamps, except- ing indeed those of the class who may have been aroused to healthy activity by the awaken- ings of conscience, and a sound conversion to virtue and religion. The next qualification in a man for the times, which I shall notice, is the power to adapt himself to new circumstances, and to meet unexpected emergencies. This is not a stereotyped age, and, of course, stereotyped characters are not in demand. The rapidity with which things change, sug- gests the necessity, on the part of the actors in the excited and hurried scene, of the power of rapid changes in our plans and movements. THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 289 The young man who has prepared himself for acting in one particular way — for moving- only in a direct line — will soon find himself wide of the track of events, and will be toler- ably sure to lose sight of the great points of interest. He may move with promptness and power, but his efforts tell upon no practical object ; he may perform prodigies of labour, but he does nothing to purpose ; he may be exceedingly busy, but bring nothing to pass. A skilful general watches the movements of the enemy, and lays out his strength where it will tell ; he concentrates his force upon the assailable point. His tactics vary to suit the emergencies of the battle. We have a good illustration of the doctrine of adaptation in that part of American history, called "Braddock's defeat.'' The great English general undertook to fight the Indians, in the woods, on scientific principles. He could not be persuaded by young Washington, the sub- sequent hero of the American Ee volution, to abandon his plan of a regular pitched battle, and of marshalling his forces in solid columns, the very arrangement which would subject him to a galling fire from the foe, who were concealed behind trees and crags, and who did the most fatal execution without exposing themselves .to danger. Had he acted upon 19 290 MANLY CHARACTER. the practical and common-sense plan proposed l)y the young American officer, and allowed liim, with his *' Eangers," to " scour the woods" with trailed arms, he might have saved his own honour and his life. What is strength worth — of what avail is action — without an aim, without wise direc- tion ? The more active and noisy a man is, the more dangerous, unless he strikes his hlows at the proper point. Our radical re- formers, and bustling disorganizers, are the most energetic men in the community. Did they lay out their strength and activity upon some practicable and valuable improvement, they might bring upon their name the grati- tude of posterity ; but they waste them upon impracticable schemes. A practical mind will not only ask itself. What ought to be done ? but what can be done ? and what can be done to the best advantage ? What should be done first? What will result in the greatest amount of good? The real practical genius, when he finds himself w^orking to no purpose, and sees that the great end of life can be secured only by a change of policy or employment, will bend himself to the circumstances. Such charac- ters are always needed, but especially when changes in the state of society, and in the re- THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 291 sources of the country, are sudden, and follow each other in quick succession. The American mind seems formed for rapid evolutions — for adaptation to new circumstances. In these times of new discoveries, new scenes of action, new phases of society, new enterprises, new errors, new assaults upon truth, new tac- tics upon the part of all classes of com- batants, the power of adaptation to new cir- cumstances seems absolutely essential to the actors who are now entering upon the stage. Skilful labourers in the cause of humanity and religion, are now more eminently needed than at any former period of the world's his- tory. Mere earnestness and sincerity of in- tentions will not do. The world wants talent that will conform itself to the infinite variety of forms in which the public necessities may present themselves, or the constantly varying circumstances Avhich follow the rapid march of the world, and the revolutions and changes which transpire in these stirring times. The young man who would be adequate to the demands of the times, must acquire a liberal Christian education. I do not use the term liberal in the usual technical sense, for an education at college, but as implying an education broad, deep, and thorough A young man may acquire a lib- 292 MANLY CHARACTER. oral education without graduating at college, and a graduate at college may not be half educated. Then school education, without Christian ^principle, will do but little towards preparing one for the great moral conflicts which are before us. General and secular education has its importance, but it is the Christian scholar which is to do the work of this age, and the ages which are to come. Christian schools should be multiplied and endowed, and our students in these schools should be imbued with the spirit of Chris- tian enterprise. We want scholars who have hearts as well as heads — whose moral powers are as highly educated as their in- tellect. The struggle now is not so much between knowledge and ignorance, as it is between sin and holiness, vice and virtue. Practical in- fidelity is becoming bold and threatening. TJnsanctified passions and pampered appetites assume the reins, and dash on with the most destructive power. Wickedness shows its head in a thousand hideous forms. To refoi^m the world morally and religiously, is the great object of all rational philanthropy. Hence the demand for a moral instrumentality as potent and as wise as the apostles themselves. Mothers and fathers should labour to give THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 293 their children deep and thorough moral and religious convictions and impressions. Edu- cation, both at home and at school, should be eminently religious. Young men, under what- ever mode of education, should become learned in the science of godliness, and arm them- selves against all corrupt and infidel influences. They need a mighty depth of principle, a towering faith, a zeal for God and his cause, a spirit of sacrifice and self-denial, a love of the truth, and practical wisdom, equal to the greatest possible emergencies. Your educa- tion must fit you to meet boldness and impu- dence in wrong doing with calm, dignified firmness ; infidel philosophy, with the inspired truth of God^s word ; sophistry, with sound reasoning ; satanic cunning, with the wisdom which Cometh from above ; human tradition, with the sure word of prophecy ; formalism, with spirituality ; and sin and corruption, in all their forms, with a holy life and a godly conversation. You must be learned in philos- ophy, learned in history, learned in polemical divinity ; but, above all, must you be learned in the Scriptures. " The sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God,'^ is the great de- sideratum in the armour which you must " take to yourselves." Another qualification in a man for the times, 294 MANLY CHARACTER. is a thorough and extensive acquaintance with books. Reading is, perhaps, the leading means of knowledge. We can gain some knowledge by observation and conversation ; but without reading, the compass of information will be exceedingly limited, and, indeed, altogether deficient. Not only must the sciences be studied in books, but a great part of that general knowledge, which is absolutely neces- sary to a man for the times, can be attained only through books. This is emphatically an age of books. Everybody reads. During no period of the world^s history have publica- tions been produced in such profusion. This fact itself, if nothing else, is proof of the demand for reading matter. Now, printed pages are rained down in indefinite numbers and variety — they fall upon us like the leaves of autumn. He who is not a considerable reader, will soon find himself unfit for good society, and altogether " behind the times.'' Diligent, careful, extensive reading, is now necessary to the man of business as well as the scholar or the professional gentleman. If one is found utterly unacquainted with a popu- lar book, he is at once set down as deficient in taste and industry, and can pass for noth- ing bettor than a second or third-rate man. THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 295 I would by no means urge you, young gen- tlemen, to read all the books and periodicals which are issued from the press — this would be physically impossible. Of many of these you only need know their title ; of many others, all you need be informed of is their table of contents ; of some others, you should be acquainted with mere portions. Early in my history, I was in the practice of reading nearly every book which I commenced entirely through. Experience finally taught me that I wasted much time by this system. Now when I find this plan will not pay, I dismiss an author with a more general survey of the plan of the work, and an examination of such portions only as promise an addition to my stock of ideas. A good book is not only worth reading through, but worthy to be studied. Works that not only convey important in- formation, but are suggestive — giving a spring to thought, and furnishing themes for medi- tation, are the most profitable, and should be preferred. Such a book is an invaluable treasure, and may often be re-read many times with very great advantage. Thoroughly mas- tering the contents of such a book, and im- bibing its spirit, will really do more towards furnishing the mind for action, than an in- definite amount of careless general reading. 296 MANLY CHARACTER. Beading merely for amusement should be indulged in with great caution, if at all. The frothy productions of the day, which are mere- ly designed to cater to a morbid appetite, are essentially injurious. 1 have already touched this subject, and must not here enlarge upon it. It will be sufficient to say that life is too precious to be spent — any portion of it — in perusing pages which in no sense contribute to our better preparation for usefulness and happiness. Upon this broad ground I would discourage merely unprofitable reading. As to the publications which are of vicious ten- dency, they should be utterly avoided, for the same great moral reasons which would keep you from dangerous contact with the worst of human beings. A book is a companion, and a bad book is the most dangerous of all bad companions. The eloquent Mr. J. A. James, in his sermons to young men, gives them the following earnest admonition upon this sub- ject :— "With much the same emphasis [that he had cautioned young men against had com- pany] do I warn you against had hooJcs; 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 2:row with THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 297 rank luxuriance. Infidelity and immoralitj have seized upon fiction and poetry, and are endeavouring 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 respects, bad books are more mischievous than bad companions, since they are still more accessible, and more constantly with us ; can be more secretly con- sulted, and lodge their poison more abidingly in the imagination, the intellect, and the heart. A bad book is a bad companion of the worst kind, and prepares for bad companions of all other kinds.^' As this is a subject of great importance, I need hardly apologize for adding to the above the pertinent and wise cautions of Addison. " Words,^' says he, " are the transcript of those ideas w^hich are in the mind of man ; writing and printing are the transcript of words. As the Supreme Being has expressed, and, as it were, printed his ideas in the crea- tion, men express their ideas in books ; which, by this great invention of latter ages, may last as long as the sun and moon, and perish 298 MANLY CHARACTER. only in the general wreck of nature. Books are the legacies which a great genius leaves to mankind, and which are delivered down from generation to generation, as presents to the posterity of those who are yet unborn. Now, if writings are thus durable, and may pass from age to age throughout the whole course of time, how careful should an author be of committing anything to print that may cor- rupt posterity, and poison the minds of men with vice and error ? Writers of great talents, who employ their parts in propagating im- morality, and seasoning vicious sentiment with wit and humour, are to be looked upon as the pests of society, and the enemies of mankind. They leave books behind them — as it is said of those who die in distempers which breed an ill-will towards their own species — to scatter infection, and destroy their posterity. They act the counterparts of a Confucius or a Socrates ; and seem, as it were, sent into the world to deprave human nature, and sink it into the condition of brutality.'' — Spectator, To render the poison palatable, it is not unfrequently sweetened with the ornaments of rhetoric and the graces of style. As sajs Dr. Young: — THE MAN FOii THE TIMES. 299 *' The flowers of eloquence, profusely pour'd O'er spotted vice, fill half the letter'd world ; As if to magic numbers' powerful charm 'Twas given to make a civet of their song Obscene, and sweeten ordure to perfume. "Wit, a true pagan, deifies the brute. And lifts our swine enjoyments from the mire : Can powers of genius exercise their page, And consecrate enormities with song? Art, cursed art ! wipes off th' indebted blush From nature's cheek, and bronzes every shame. Man smiles in ruin, glories in his guilt, And infamy stands candidate for praise." Night Thoughts. Your reading should embrace the besfc books and periodicals. I say the best, for you have no time to squander upon those which are merely indifferent — there is reading enough of the first class to occupy you, however dili- gent you may be, or however much time you may be able to command, for purposes of read- ing and study. The whole of your reading, and every part of it, should have a tendency to expand your intellect, refine your taste, and improve the tone of your moral feelings. Keep these ends ever in view, and it will not be difficult to select your authors. You want intellectual and moral power ; and if an au- thor does not help you to these, pass him by. The world wants great men — great philosophers — great philanthropists — great Christians. Bring all your reading to bear 300 MANLY CHARACTER. upon the qualifications to meet this want, and you will not labour in vain. Errorists are well read ; and if you would be prepared to counterwork them and thwart their evil designs — if you would escape their snares — you must vie with them in your acquaintance with authors. Your knowledge must be of that extended and thorough kind, which only can be attained by communing with the great and good minds of all ages, through their immortal writings. The learned and pious Doddridge, when a student, laid down the following rule to gov- ern his reading : " Never let me trifle with a book with which 1 have no present concern. In applying myself to any book, let me first recollect what I am to learn by it, and then by suitable assistance from God : thus let me endeavour to make all my studies sub- servient to practical religion and ministerial usefulness.'' Like this great and good man, you should meddle with no book the reading of which will not contribute to your better preparation for the post you are preparing to occupy as a steward of God, a member of the Church, and a man. Exclude all corrupt and unprofitable litera- ture, and you will find reading in abundance, far more than you will ever be able to go THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. »-301 through with, of another sort. There are hooks enough at hand, on all important and useful topics, to occupy all the time you will he able to devote to reading. I need not oc- cupy your attention with specific directions. The better sort of Eeviews, and the religious newspapers and magazines, will keep you ad- vised of the progress of the publishing houses, and the advent of new w^orks. Descriptive catalogues will also be found of great service to you in the selection of books. A well-read, judicious friend, will be found invaluable ; he will often guard you against an unprofitable outlay of time in your reading, and dangerous contact with suspicious authors. Again : to be a man for the times, you must be a man of large and catholic views and feelings. When nations had but little intercourse, and men were much at home, a comparatively limited scope of mind, and little sympathy with the great world, were the natural results of inevitable circumstances. Now that the most distant portions of the world are brought more together, the world seems like one great family, and all men are brethren. Our sym- pathies should now extend to the brotherhood of man, and our efforts to do good should over- step all those arbitrary limits which intervene 302 MANLY CHARACTER. between states and nations. It becomes the men of this age, especially, to contemplate the universal wants of humanity, and to aim, not merely at benefiting the country in which they live, but at making the world better ; and they should direct their efforts to the point which presents the strongest claims. It will not do for us, who have fallen upon such an interesting period of the w^orld's history, to act upon the contracted views of former cen- turies. When men can reach Europe, and even Asia and Africa, in nearly as short a period of time as it cost their fathers to take their grain, cattle, or lumber, to their own home market, it becomes them to expand their views, and to enlarge their outlays for the good of others. As no portion of the world is beyond our reach, every portion of it should share in our sympathies and labours. The necessary result of this large -hear ted- ness will be large appropriations of time and money for the good of the world. The wealth which has come in upon us like a flood, must have a large outlet, or it will prove an instru- ment of corruption. Large plans of benevo- lence must be devised, and great efforts made to carry forward the improvement of the race. Instead of pennies, we are now able to give pounds; and our obligations, and the demands THE MAN FOR THE TIMES. 803 of the world, are in exact proportion to our means. From our stand-point we can see the *' regions beyond," and we should both feel for them, and labour to confer upon them permanent blessings. Sectional feelings, or narrow-minded secta- rianism, are wholly inconsistent with these times. The commingling of nations, classes, and sects, seems designed by God to wear away the angles which have heretofore come into such terrible and distressing collision. A truly catholic Christianity is now eminently demanded, as well as suggested, by the state of the world. False catholicity, alias exclusive- ness, should now go out of sight, and Chris- tians should feel themselves called upon to labour in harmony for the good of the world. These are no times for selfishness and narrow- mindedness. Large and liberal Christian views and feelings are the great want of the Church. Cultivate this catholic spirit, my young friends, as now eminently necessary and honourable to your heads and hearts. Such, young gentlemen, is the man for the times. When you shall have fully taken in the idea, have seen the circumstances which create the need in their true light, you will see just what you ought to aspire to become. When you see this, you then ought to feel the 304 MANLY CHARACTER. obligation to put forth the required effort for the attainments demanded ; and then you should begin to put forth your utmost exer- tions to reach the goal. Now bring your heads and hearts to the work. Eesolve, by the help of God, to fill the niche for which Providence designed you. Live in your own age ; be a man for the times ; keep up with the tremendous ouAvard movement of the world ; and may God give you good success in the great work to which you are called, and for which you will labour with all your powers to become eminently fitted. THE END. fxS^ Of THl [TJKIVBRSITTI ^m%^ DAY AND rn J.J°J:^^1^ °N THE FOURTH z u g J o ii So JCN GO CO >o CM ^ LOAN PERIOD 1 HOME USE ^ li I ^ _2 -2 " o o a*. O 'mTt^ Ca3aS53t74 ^;^ »• NiK^ wnr" Aflf «• %^^ >;mj ^^•'^