i -me* ! YOUNG-MRNS - RFFKIRS * CHARL6S R€YNOLDS BROWN Ov»*f LIBRARY OF THE University of California. GIFT OF >1^. l'ul.lished September, 190U TITLES OF CHAPTERS I. His Main Purpose Page 3 II. His Intimates 23 III. His Books 45 IV. His Money 69 V. His Recreations 91 VI. His Wife 115 VII. His Church 139 186721 W M*ln putpottz [i] CHAPTER FIRST f i$ jttain pmpozz OU will agree with me at the outset that no man is apt to arrive unless he has a fairly distinct idea as to where he is going. You can steer a ship that is moving, every part of it brought under the power of some impelling force — even if it is headed wrong it can be turned around. You cannot do anything with a ship that is drift- ing — it simply lies in the trough of the sea beaten and tossed. You can do almost any- thing with a young man who is possessed by a purpose. If that purpose in certain par- ticulars is a mistaken one, he can be faced about. But it is hard to do anything with those human derelicts who are just drifting along waiting to see what will happen to them instead of being up and out to make things happen on their own account. In this [3] C&e gowns Jftan'g affair first address to young men, therefore, I shall speak of the vital importance of a definite purpose. The real purpose organizes the various ele- ments of a man's life for effective action. A pile of steel filings and shavings lying on the floor of a foundry may be fine in quality, they may weigh a ton when put upon the scales, but unorganized they have little value. Organize and weld them into a shaft, attach one end of the shaft to an engine, and the other to a screw propeller, and it will send a mighty ocean liner from New York to Liv- erpool in five days. Bring all those bits of steel under the organizing power of a pur- pose and they become effective. In like man- ner a mind, a heart, a soul, is nothing more than a confused heap of thoughts and wishes, impulses and desires, longings and aspira- tions, until by the power of a purpose all these are brought into unity and made ef- fective in their thrust toward some worthy fulfilment. More than that the very fact of a purpose, [4] Pss jttam puvpozz high and fine, far-reaching and commanding, in the heart of a man exercises a potent in- fluence upon the world without. David Starr Jordan likes to say, " The world makes way for the man who knows where he is going." On the crowded sidewalk no one ever thinks of swerving an inch for the dawdler who is just sauntering along to kill time. Everyone is ready to give half the sidewalk or more for the man who shows by his look and bear- ing that he is bound somewhere with a defi- nite purpose in mind. You will find that the same principle holds good through life — in the busiest bank, in the largest railroad office, in the factories which turn out products by the trainload, in all the learned professions, people are not only willing but eager to make room for the man with a purpose. I am not disturbed, therefore, when I see young men consumed with impossible ambi- tions, eaten up with aspirations which may never reach fulfilment, straining every nerve to accomplish what may not be worthy of such an effort. They are in the Freshman [5] C^e gomtg jEan'g affair year, and long before they reach the Senior class in this big University we call human life, they will be straightened out. I am troubled at the sight of young men who have no definite aims. You will find them in every country town sitting around the rail- road station to watch the trains come in and go out, or talking small talk through the livelong afternoon in a grocery store because they have not enough strength of mind to do anything else. You will find them in the city hanging around the cigar stores to watch some man play the nickel-in-the-slot machine, or in the five-cent theaters, or spending af- ternoons at the " Orpheum " as if they had already attained such success in life that they could afford to spend daylight hours in watching a few people do clever stunts at fifteen or twenty dollars a week. You will find them spending whole afternoons and evenings counting red and black spots, as if nowhere on earth was there anything vital to engage their powers. You will find them looking at print — not reading, let us save [6] ^tjs piain puvpogz that good word for honest intellectual effort — and such print as could have no value whatsoever for tomorrow's life. I cannot tell you all the places where you will find them — there is an army of them, some of them earn- ing their own livings after a fashion, some of them still sponging on their fathers or liv- ing on money inherited. If you were to ask any one of them, " What is your purpose in life? " he would be utterly nonplussed. You will find also another type of these pur- poseless men. They are not dawdlers nor idlers ; they have red blood in their veins, quarts of it. They are brim full of energy. There is something doing with them every hour in the day and a good share of the night. They are full of interest and enthu- siasm, but the trouble is their lives are as Amiel said, " a mass of beginnings and end- ings." There is a lack of continuity and of direction ; the various elements have not been brought under the mastery of a clearcut, definite purpose. They are " bound nowhere under full sail." [7] C^e goimg jEan'g affair Dean Swift used to tell this story on himself. He had been out of town and was returning to perform a marriage ceremony. His train was late, and when he reached the station at Dublin it lacked only a few minutes of the hour of the wedding. He ran out and jumped into a jaunting car, calling out to the cab- man, " Drive like Jehu ! I am late now and have only a few minutes to get there." The man gave his horse a cut and was off down the street in a gallop. The Dean held on with both hands as the little open jaunting car pitched about, and presently called out to the man, " Where are you going? " " I don't know, sir," was the reply ; " you didn't say where I was to go, but I'm driving like Jehu." You will find young fellows in every city, with splendid capacity, able to move through the streets of solid achievement at a telling pace, but no definite word of command has been spoken as yet to their restless activity. They do not know where they are going ; there is no compelling purpose behind all [8] $ is ifttaiu purpose this show of action. They are merely driving like Jehu with no sufficient aim. When a man is lost in the woods and wants to get home, the most important question is not, " Am I walking, or running, or riding a fast horse?" The important question is, "Am I faced right? Am I moving straight ahead and not merely circling around and around ? " It is imperative that you should have some end in view. You cannot read everything, or buy everything, or enjoy everything, or see everything. You may, if you choose, make the vain attempt, circling around until the best years of your life are gone and you are back where you started. But if you intend to get out of the woods of uncertain and purposeless effort into the open of noble and useful achievement, you must exercise the power of selection, content to leave whole areas off to the right and to the left, as you pursue the commanding pur- pose of your life y When you ride across the State of Nebraska on the Union Pacific you are impressed with [9] C^e goung jttan'g affair the queer ways of the Platte River. It is a broad, slow, easygoing stream, not carrying a very great volume of water, but spread out thin over a good deal of territory. Because the slant of the country is so slight it has not much movement nor current. In early days when the soil of western Nebraska was even looser than it is now, owing to the scanty vegetation, the Platte sometimes shifted its course for miles within a few days. On Monday morning a man might be en- camped upon the north side, but by Saturday night he might be living on the south side without ever moving his tent. How different all that is from the river Columbia flowing strongly between steep, high banks, the only stream that has cut its way through that mountain chain which begins up in Alaska and extends all the way down to the lower end of Mexico. The Columbia shows you that it is a river with a purpose and you know where to find it every day in the year ! It is a river that does things ! I would say to every young man, beware of [10] l$i& jttain purpose that easy versatility which turns readily from one channel to another, from one job to another, from one line of life to some- thing entirely different. If you find yourself equally handy at a dozen different pursuits, it is time you called a halt. When a young man comes to me to discuss his future I ask him, " What do you want to do ? " If he re- plies, " Anything," I am almost as much dis- appointed as if he had said, "Nothing." Men who are content to do anything will usually be shoved off into some corner to do nothing before tliey get through. " This one thing I do," said the man who wrote his influence upon the life of his generation more pro- foundly than any other save the Master whom he served. He was not ready to do any- thing, but he could do this one thing well.^ I have discussed the general importance of having a definite purpose long enough; now what are some of the particular purposes which exercise their mastery over young men? There is first of all the thought of having a C^e goung jHan'ss affafrjs good time. " I want to have my full share of the physical and other delights which are open to men." When you find a young fel- low in the wrong place he is commonly there because he doesn't want to miss anything — he wants to see life. " I want to have all the amusements and recreations, outdoor and in- door sports, within my reach. I want to read enjoyable books, hear enjoyable music, and see the most enjoyable plays that come to town. I want to have as many social good times as I can. I want to travel and see as much of the world as I may. In a word, I want to enjoy life to the full as far as I can compass it." This is not an evil purpose in itself. You can put evil things into it just as you can pack pistols and dynamite, or loaded dice and gambler's cards into a good dress-suit case in place of the things that an honest trav- eler wants to carry. But the purpose to have a good time is not in itself evil. The pursuit of happiness, the gaining of pleasure in the exercise of one's powers, is not only [12] J ii^jS jHafn pwtpoge permissible, but imperative, if we are to live up to our best. The sour-faced people who cannot eat anything with relish, nor see any- thing without finding fault with it, nor laugh at anything without apologizing to their consciences, nor take unmodified pleasure in any of the experiences which come, have al- together missed the meaning of life, even though they may be as coldly correct in the performance of certain duties as were the Pharisees of old. Happiness, high, fine, real, is God's own seal upon the right use of our powers. Even the sober old catechism had it right. " The chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him " — as the sum of all the forces, realities and opportunities there are — " forever." But happiness, after all, is an incident and not the main consideration. He that saveth his happiness by aiming for it directly all the time will lose it. He that loseth sight of his happiness in his devotion to certain ends which are fundamental shall find it. If you set out to make your main purpose that of [13] C^e goimg iHan'js affair having a good time, you will miss other more important things and in the end you will miss the good time itself. The young man who does his work in the store or shop or office thinking more of the evening's pleas- ures which are at the end of the day than of the work he is doing, will be sitting out some- where on a big high stool thirty years from now when the young fellow who is thinking more about his work than about the even- ing's pleasures will be sitting in the direc- tors' meeting deciding whether or not the salary of the other man shall be increased. A good time is not sufficient to furnish a funda- mental purpose. There is also the purpose of making money. " Money talks," and to many people it has the most interesting things to say. It is money that makes possible all those pleas- ures and amusements. It is money that builds the home and fills it with beautiful furniture and lovely clothing for those we love. It is money that puts books on a man's shelves and pictures on the walls. It is [ii] i^tjs jftain pmyogz money that opens the way for automobiles and yachts and all the rest of it. It is money that makes possible extensive travel, so that a man's consciousness is enlarged and his sympathetic touch with life broadened by his having seen many lands, many peoples, many forms of civilization. " Money is every- thing," people say, " therefore put money in thy purse." It is not an evil purpose. It, too, may have evil things packed into it — this is often the case, but it is not necessary. A man who is content to live in poverty when the way is open for him to live in comfort through ex- tra exertion, is either lazy, or foolish, or wicked, perhaps all three. It is a legitimate and laudable ambition to wish to compass the joy and exercise the power that pros- perity brings. I am frank to say that it cost me a struggle to go into the ministry, and one of the things which held me back for a long time was the thought that I could never be rich — no minister is ever rich unless he inherits or marries his money. I would urge [15] C^e gouns jHan'js affair every young man to strive with all his might to succeed financially in order that he may have the joy of providing generously for his own tastes and for the tastes of others who may share in his prosperity. But the mere purpose of making money is not large enough to have the best energies of a young man's life committed into its keeping. It leaves whole areas of his nature unprovided for. What would you think of a clergyman, or a physician, or a teacher, or a soldier, who confessed to you that his main ambition was to make money. He would be discredited in your eyes at once. Why, then, should the merchant or the manufacturer ac- cept for himself such a fundamental aim ? It is because business has not yet been moralized to the same degree as the profession of the ministry or medicine, of teaching or of mili- tary life. The day is coming, however, when the ambition to make money unrelieved by worthier aims set over it, will seem so utterly sordid as to make any self-respecting man unwilling to confess such a purpose. Making [16] i^tjs J&atn putpottt a living is one thing, making a life is quite another thing — it is altogether higher, vast- er and more alluring. There is also the purpose of getting to the front. I wish to succeed, some young man says, and by that I do not mean mere mate- rial success. I want to have friends, hosts of them ; a nice home and a good family. I want to hold a good place in society. I want to be esteemed by my fellow citizens and have some honorable position in my city, my state, if possible, my nation. I want to accomplish something that men will remember when I am gone, in literature, in the development of the resources of my community, or in charitable and philanthropic effort. I wish to enjoy the gratitude and esteem of my fellow men. There is no fault to be found with this pur- pose. Indeed, the young man who has not something of all these purposes is not a nor- mal man. But they do not touch bottom. All these purposes that I have named, to have a good time, to make money, to achieve a wor- thy success, are legitimate, but subordinate. [17] OF THE SiTY C^e goimg ifftan'is affair They are the incidentals of right living, but they do not furnish the supreme motive. Let me turn, then, to One who wrought His splendid achievements and made His deep im- press upon the life of the race, writing His name above every name, while He was yet young — He was put to death when He was only thirty-three. Let me turn to Him for a purpose which is fundamental. " I come to do the will of Him that sent me." He believed that behind all these phenomena there is an intelligent and moral purpose. He believed in God. And He believed that included in that infinite purpose there was a particular purpose for His individual life. He found the essential aim of His own ex- istence in the fulfilment of that purpose which lies behind all we see. I come to act, to think, to grow, to live in the fulfilment of an eternal purpose underlying my life and all lives — here we find an aim worthy to take command of our best strength! Here we do touch bottom. The doing of the will of Him who sent us will mean in the [18] ipfe jHafn pmpozz grand outcome a good time of such extent and elevation as eye hath not seen nor ear heard. It will mean gain, treasures of the sort that men lay up in the world of perma- nent and transcendent values. It will mean getting to the front in an enduring success, which will put the crown of glory on the head of every man who attains. It will in- clude all that is high, fine, lasting in pleas- ure, knowledge, action and worth. I am here for that! If you are clear-headed and honest-hearted you cannot stop this side of such an aim when once you begin to think. You must build your life worthily into that universal and eternal plan which lies in the mind and heart of Him who sent you. To do that is to live, and nothing less than that will suffice. Take that as your main purpose and you will never rue it. " Greatly begin, Though thou have time but for a line Make that one line forever sublime. Not failure, but low aim is crime." [19] €^e gomtQ jftan'js affair There are shortsighted men who can see across the street, but they cannot see their way across the field of human effort. They can look ahead for fifteen minutes, but not for fifteen years. You cannot afford to travel in that class. If you catch the vision of this young Man, who came to do the will of the One who sent Him, you will indeed see far ahead. And when once you have accepted His life purpose to do the will of Him who sends you, all your pleasures and associa- tions, all your duties and privileges will be- come not pools signifying nothing beyond themselves, but flowing tributaries to the main stream of your purposeful life, which, like the river of God, will make glad the whole city of your diversified interests. Take from the lips of the Lord Christ the control- ling purpose of your life, and you will live strongly and well and forever! [20] tfe %ntimatt$ [21] CHAPTER SECOND f tjS 3Jntimategf GROUP of friends well chosen, thoroughly trusted and firmly held can bestow upon a young man's life benefits inestimable. The touch and rub of life upon life in the intimacy of a fine friendship serves to bring a man up to a higher level of efficiency. When a young man goes to High School or College he matriculates not in one school, but in three. I name them in what I believe to be the ascending order of their importance. He goes to school first to his books, his own text books and the books in the library which he may be led to read and those other books to which he may be introduced and thus be in- clined to read later. He goes to school to his instructors — not dry as dust men who merely impart informa- [23] C^e gotms jEau'js affair tion like the Britannica or teach subjects as some well-oiled pedagogical machine might do, but live instructors, large-minded, great- souled men who make their subjects glow with light and burn with warmth; men who arouse and mature and enrich the whole in- ner life of the young people who come within the length of their cable tow. One great teacher, Shaler at Harvard, Remsen at Johns Hopkins, Harper at Chicago, Jordan at Stanford, does not take up as much space as a library, but pour him out upon a campus full of young men and he does more to in- spire and instruct than all the books in the stack. In the third place he goes to school to his fellow students. The average young man takes for good or ill, color and odor, direc- tion and aspiration, from his intimates in the fraternity house or on the athletic field, in the class room and in the laboratory, in the easy touch and go of social life, more than from all his books or his professors. This is my own judgment based on many years [24] $f* 3iutimatejs spent in and around universities as student, as lecturer and as the friend of the bo vs. I could bring you, if I chose, corroboration from more college presidents and professors than I would have time to name in this half hour. You will find the same thing is true in that larger university where there is a continuous performance of education going on, the uni- versity we call " Life." Books speak to the young man who is willing to sit down and listen. The appointed instructors at home, in school, in the church can accomplish much if their work is well done. But after all the young fellow's intimates, the boys and girls, the men and women with whom he associates, by their prevailing moods, by the purposes which really dominate their lives, by the at- mosphere they carry, exercise the most po- tent influence of all. " Iron sharpeneth iron, so a man sharpeneth," or dulleth, " the coun- tenance of his friend." You may ruin a razor permanently with a file in five minutes ; so the fine edge of character may be speedily [25] €^e gouttg jttan'g affairs nicked or turned by those powerful personal influences which emanate from intimate asso- ciation. You cannot afford then to drop into your friendships as an apple drops from the tree into green grass or filth as the case may be because it cannot choose. You cannot afford to drift into a certain set of associates by force of circumstances as if you had no power to steer your intimacies. There are eighty millions of people in this country to go no further — you cannot know them all and you would not want to if you could. There are more than two hundred thousand people in this town — you can only know a small percentage of that number intimately. You must choose, therefore, and if you would have the mighty power of intimate as- sociation a help and not a hindrance, you must choose wisely. It requires thought and care to develop a fine friendship. It will not grow of itself like a weed — it is an orchid, rare, beautiful, costly. Luther Burbank in producing new [26] ^fe gintimates and useful forms of flower and fruit found there was no way by which pollen could be applied and made effective in certain cross- fertilizations except by his own bare, skilled hand. No tool, no machine, no wind of chance would accomplish it. It required the touch of his own personal life. You cannot fashion the friendships you need by the wind of chance or by the coarse mechanism of con- ventional social life or by the rude accident of business relations — the bare touch of your own mind and heart going forth in the proc- ess of thoughtful, conscientious selection is needed if you would know intimacy with your fellows at its best. I make it a point to urge every young man to make a great many friends in early life. You need them now and you will need them still more as the years go. Some will die. Some will remove from your vicinage. Some, Alas ! will disappoint you. It is good to know a great many people and out of them select a number of real friends so that as you grow older you will not be left alone, for [27] C^e poun$ jflan'g affatttf you will find there are no friendships like those which are formed in early life. If you are to be a salesman, a banker, a lawyer, a doctor or a man with political aspirations, the more friends the better. And all aside from the advantage which will come to you in your chosen work, the very esteem and confidence of many people will in the end bring enlargement and enrichment to your own heart. You hear the expression " selfmade man." It is a useless phrase — there is none such. If there ever were, they are an extinct race now like dodos. In every successful life, parents, teachers and friends, writers, speakers and singers, actors, preachers and all the rest, have made their deposits of influence. The strong life grows rich as the bank does by having many people flow up to it and make some deposit in it. The main point is to see to it that their deposits are good money and not counterfeit, for the more you live the more you will take from those with whom you associate. [28] I^fjs 9lntfmatCiS That ancient ecclesiastical ceremony called " the laying on of hands " in the ordination of a young man to the Christian ministry was a beautiful testimony to the power and contagion of personal influence. It was not intended to be a magical thing as if when the Bishop and elders laid their hands upon the head of the candidate some mysterious in- fluence passed making him now competent to instruct men in righteousness or minister the comfort of divine grace. It was the outward and visible sign of something inward and spiritual. The young man, be he ever so en- ergetic, brainy and devout, could not go forth and succeed in his own strength. He must receive from men as well as from God — from God mainly through men — those po- tent and holy influences which would mature and enrich his own power to serve. In form- ing your own intimacies let the hands of many wise and good men be laid upon you early, repeatedly, continuously that you may be ordained to a splendid life of honor and usefulness. [29] Stye goung jflan's affair In making choice of those intimates, I would suggest a few principles. Friends, the more the better and they may cover a wide range! Intimates, not very many and these selected with the greatest care! I know a great many people around this Bay, all sorts and kinds; some of them are drunkards, liars, libertines, thieves. They count me a friend and I am profoundly glad to have it so. I think now of a young fellow whom I know well who showed himself a thief repeat- edly, but he is pulling up out of it to-day splendidly and I look forward to the hour when he will stand forth, honest and true, able to look the whole world in the face. I know a great many people, but my intimates, the men and women whose lives come close to my own, to whom I open my mind and heart freely, are not drunkards and libertines, liars and thieves. I want my intimates to be of another sort. You can be on good terms with a great many people whose fundamental attitude toward life does not match your own. You cannot [30] ^fe Intimates afford to be on intimate terms with a man who is lacking in reverence, in unimpeachable honesty, in profound respect for womanly purity or in definite, serious purpose. These are the four cardinal attitudes, toward God, toward the truth, toward woman, toward oneself. You cannot afford to have intimates lacking in reverence, in honesty, in purity, in purpose. The color and the odor such men leave would cling to you also. You need for intimates those who are clearly and strongly on the side of right. It is well to cut out at the start all those friendships which require champagne glasses and beer steins to keep them going. There is nothing useful to be gotten out of such in- timacies. You cannot gather grapes of thorns or figs from thistles. A great com- pany of enthusiastic young fellows with just as much cleverness and just as little experi- ence of life as you have, believed they could. They tried it out to a finish and they came forth not with grapes or figs, but with their hands, their minds and their hearts full of [31] C^e goimg jflan'g affafttf ugly briers rapidly developing into festering sores. It cannot be done — the experiment has been fully made and there is no need for you to waste your time and money and good name in making it again. It is just as well to cut out of your list of intimates the young fellow whose main pur- pose seems to be to spend as much time as possible in and around automobiles. The auto is a good servant when it is under the control of skill and conscience. It is a terri- ble menace to life and property when the steering gear is wanting or out of order and it runs uncontrolled. It is a terrible master when it wields such a fascination over the heart and purse of a young man who thinks of it by day when he ought to be working with all the strength of mind he can bring to bear and then spends the hours needed for sleep in devoting himself to it by night. The average garage is not a place of light and leading — it has been the pathway downward for a considerable number of young men who might have been." That is all they will [32] a f te 3Intfmate$ ever be now — " might have beens." Young fellows are being tricked out of their futures by this new device with speed and smell which we call an automobile. You can afford to cut out of jour list of intimates the young men afflicted with serious cases of " autophobia " — they will never be heard from in any favor- able way in the great round up. It is just as well to cut out those friends who live uniformly in the flippant mood. Fun is as wholesome in its way as food. The sense of humor is as necessary as the sense of honor to make up a complete man. But it is to be regarded always as the spice of life, the pepper, mustard and cinnamon, not the roast beef, or the bread and potatoes on which we live. Life as a whole, when you add it all up and strike a trial balance, is not funny. It is serious business and the flippant chap misses all the finer phases of it. The world does not put into his keeping its more valued interests. The joker is not the best card in the pack except by an artificial rule and in all the better games it is thrown out [ 33] C^e gnung jttau'g affairs altogether. Many a young fellow has turned himself down flat and hard and finally by being " too flip." He learned it in circles of intimates where flippancy was regarded as the main excellence. Many a girl has giggled herself out of all possibility of marrying a man who could have given her position, honor, enrichment, enduring happiness — such men do not take machines to their homes whose records are all flippant talk and giggle. You need friends who by their finer insight and their hidden faith idealize you. They take you as they know you, as you are, but behind you, within you, and above you, they see another possible man. They are looking eagerly and waiting patiently for that man to emerge. By their expectation and their faith they help him out into the world. They are constantly saying what the master of the house said in the parable, " Friend, go up higher." You discover yourself anew in their very attitude toward some of your rawness and inexperience — you long to make the re- [34] i^te gintfmatejs ality match with their faith in your capacity. It is deadly in the long run not to have that quality in our friends. " I do enjoy spending the evening with Fannie," one young fellow said to another ; " she always makes me feel so satisfied with myself." Yes, there are Fan- nies innumerable sitting invitingly on the sofas here and there, but the only qualities which they call out in the young men who take that easy road are not the best that is in them. No young man ever grows strong until peo- ple begin to take stock in him, believe in him j and honor him by their friendship. It is like the call of God to enter upon a nobler life — it is the call of God, for God speaks most commonly through men. You know the story of Burns and Sir Walter Scott. Burns was twelve years older than Scott and coming into his fame early had made his name one to be conjured with in Scotland when Sir Wal- ter was unknown. One night at the home of a friend Burns found some lines written on a slip of paper and pinned under a portrait. [35] C^e Powng ifttan'jS affaitjs When he inquired as to the author, the name of Scott was whispered to him. He went to the young man and with that great warm heart, which has won him friends everywhere the sun shines, said, " You will be a great man in Scotland, my lad ; you have it in you to be a writer." Scott, a timid, tow-headed, awkward boy went home and cried all night for joy at the recognition he had received from the famous poet. And the confidence of the older man, his expectancy on behalf of his youthful friend, aided in calling him forth into a splendid career. You need those maturer friendships with both men and women which may be yours if you will have it so. You are missing the mark if you think that men with a little gray hair showing above their ears have no taste for the friendship of young fellows whose use of the razor at present is a matter of expectant faith rather than of immediate necessity. The older man knows all you know and a lot besides. He has felt all you feel and his memory is keener than you think ; he [36] l$i$ 3!ntl.. —— — i— .— — W— — ^ ■ — ■ ■ Clubs and other social organizations which eat up time and money to so little purpose. It would train each man to read with a defi- nite purpose in view, and to acquire efficiency in saying something tersely, strongly and attractively. If each man read with the thought of bringing the results of his own independent and original investigation be- fore a company of his peers, it would stimu- late intellectual effort in the whole relation he sustains to the world of books. And finally, read books not so much to gain information — you can get that as you need it at any time, for it is all there, cut and dried, in the encyclopedia ; read not to get ideas, but read mainly to gain intellectual and moral stimulus. Read in this mood and the great books will increasingly enable you to think out your own ideas. One soon tires of a book that does not make him feel now and then like getting up and walking the floor under the impulse of some larger vision of truth. He wants a book which will arouse and move him. If it fails [62] $f£ 1300fig utterly in that he soon lays it aside and seeks something else. Take four books which have appeared re- cently — Professor George H. Palmer's " Life of Alice Freeman Palmer," the former presi- dent of Wellesley College; Professor Fran- cis G. Peabody's Yale Lectures on " Jesus Christ and the Christian Character " ; Pro- fessor Rauschenbusch's " Christianity and the Social Crisis " ; Robert Hunter's " Pov- erty." These are all recent books ; any one of them would move you deeply ; any one of them would be found worthy of a place on your shelves. Let me speak also these two last words — you cannot afford in the face of the noble, in- spiring, stimulating books there are to read, to waste time on a weak book or a bad book. The decadent novels and problem plays — I know they deal with certain phases of life. So does my garbage barrel ! I have one in my back yard, but I do not care to eat out of it, and I do not want it in my study. Why nose around among rotten apples for a pos- [63] C^e goung jttan'g £Uait$ sible good bite when there are whole boxes of splendid red-cheeked fruit standing along- side! I do not want to read a book that leaves a bad taste in my mind any more than I want to eat a spoiled oyster which leaves a bad taste in my mouth. In your reading you will be stupid if you do not learn to read, to understand and to en- joy the greatest book, not of one period, but of all the centuries. I say this not because it is the proper thing for a clergyman to say, but simply because it is true. I have read books by the thousand and there is no single volume which has yielded me so much in cul- tivating a good style, in stimulating thought, in shaping principle and in lifting the ideals high as the Holy Bible. If I were told that I were to be set down on an island with only one book for the rest of my life, the choice would be instantly made. Where is there any other single volume which has in it orations like those of Moses and Isaiah, songs like those of David, a drama like that of Job, such well told stories as [64] f its TSOOttf those of Joseph, Samson and Ruth, such shrewd moral sayings as are contained in the Book of Proverbs, such masterly letters as those of Paul and John ! And there is nowhere on earth a volume containing such parables and pictures, such appeals to the will and such profound spiritual insights as we find in the recorded words of Him who spake as never man spake. If you find the Bible dull, you haven't learned to read it! If you say you do not believe in it, you do not know what is there! Read it not because it will please God in some magical way — read it because the thoughts and feelings, the purposes and aspi- rations which it will put into your mind and heart will renew your life as by the transfu- sion of blood. It will make you wise unto moral completeness ; it will furnish you thor- oughly for every good work ; it will give you life abundant and eternal. [65] $te Monty [67] CHAPTER FOURTH f (is jftone? HERE are four kinds of people in the world. There are the poor poor. They have no money, and they have nothing else in the way of intelligence, aspi- ration and affection to make life worth while. There are the rich poor — they have no money either to speak of but they have thoughts, loves, activities, appreciation for and joy in the sky, the hills, books, friends and God. Some of the happiest people I have ever known were rich poor people. There are the poor rich — they have money, lots of it, and nothing else. When you ask " How much are they worth," if you mean how much are the things they own worth, the an- swer might stretch out into six or seven fig- ures. But if you mean how much are they worth by virtue of the qualities of mind and [69] C^e goxmg Jttan'g affair heart they can show, they do not inventory very large. Then there are the rich rich — they have money and they have aims, pur- poses, interests, which make life full, sweet and noble. It is well to look over the field at the start and decide in which class you pro- pose to live. Money is stored up life. If you work hard for a day and receive five dollars for it, that gold piece is so much of your own life ex- pressed in terms which all the world under- stands. You have put into it energy, intelli- gence, fidelity if you really earned the gold piece — it is that much of your life ! And you can make it minister to your life in a legiti- mate reaction. The gold piece will put food in your mouth to repair waste, it will put a hat on your head, or offer books to your mind, or travel to your wish for a broader outlook and experience. You cast your ef- fort on the waters and the gold piece brings it back to you in some other form which you prize. You can if you will ma^ke your gold piece [70] ^ pumtv minister to other lives, education for the child, medical attendance for the sick, com- fort for the needy — it will mean life for each one. You can also relate yourself to the ac- tivities of men through your gold piece. If you spend it in a saloon, you start other men to making beer and whiskey and keeping grog shops. If you spend it in a gambling den, or brothel, you swell the demand for those forms of vice to the extent of your gold piece. If you spend it for groceries or clothing or books, you start men to pro- ducing those wholesome articles. You have power over the whole world of activity to the extent of your gold piece. Money, therefore, represents the deposit of life, a potential ministry to life, and the power to quicken and enlist the energies of other lives. You see then how vital is the relation between money and manhood. When I see piled up in the mint or in some large city bank hun- dreds and thousands of dollars in gold, I feel like taking off my hat. Here is that into which great numbers of men have put their [71] C^e goung jwan'js affaftis lives! Here is that which would minister to the development and enlargement of life on a broad scale. Here is power to start into being activities hurtful or helpful to many lives. Never speak slightingly or scornfully of money — it is the mark of an ignoramus or a rascal. Money and manhood are bound up together for weal or for woe. There are four relationships which a young man sustains to money. First of all he re- lates himself to it by the money he earns — earn it honestly. I take it for granted that every young fellow who had strength enough of mind to come here tonight is either earn- ing his own money or intends to earn it. If by any chance some parasite has come in, who is content to have his father or other rich relative give him money, or who is merely waiting for that relative to die and leave him all he needs, it is hardly worth while for me to waste powder and shot on him. He does not come within the definition anyhow — I am speaking to young men, and he is neither young nor a man, no matter [72] 1$i& pLontv when he was born or what kind of clothing he wears. It is the office of young manhood so to invest its strength as to bring forth an equivalent, so to serve that it earns what it has. Any young man who is not intent upon that effort as soon as he can get in shape for it, is denying his youth and his sex. In the town where I grew up a certain man who had sound health, a fine mind, an honest heart and a rich father, was bewailing the fact that he had not amounted to anything. " The best thing my father could have done for me," he said once, " would have been to have given me half a dollar and then kicked me into the street." His friend replied, " George, why didn't you take the half dol- lar and kick yourself into the street ? " Earning his way would have made a man of him but he saw it only after it was too late. Earn your own money then if you would make it a ministry to manhood. Never think of sitting around waiting to inherit it — it is [73] C^e f otmg jWan'js affair the mark of a decadent. Never think of set- ting out to marry it. It may be well enough to marry a woman with a fortune thrown in if your own honest affection happens to steer you that way, but it is disgraceful to marry a fortune with a woman thrown in. A man who sells himself is as much lower than the girl on the street who sells herself as he is stronger than she. And the man who does not know the joy of taking the girl of his choice to the home which his own energies have provided, even though it is no more than a three-room cottage, and then of car- ing for her until he can give her all manner of advantages, misses half the joy of life. If he is compelled to have all these good things paid for by her rich papa, he is deprived of a large element of the sweetness which goes with married life. Earn your own happiness, if you would find it satisfying. Earn your own money, I say, by honest effort — beware of the short cuts. These " get rich quick " schemes rob about ninety- nine people out of a hundred of their money [74] ^fjs piomy — some promoter gets it. And the one man out of the hundred who makes money com- monly loses his own soul in the process of getting something for nothing. The man who whispers in your ear some rare opportunity in copper stock or in mining shares or in some invention which is to make everybody wealthy, ought to be in better business. You had better show him the door while you still have your money in your pocket and an hon- est purpose in your heart. Earn it — don't gamble for it, either at the race track or poker table, the bucket shop or through buying stocks on margin ! You cannot afford to have any bastard dollars in your pocket — they are as disgraceful to you as illegitimate children. You ought to be able to feel that every dollar has come to you by the investment of energy, intelligence, fidelity. You must feel that you have given some valuable equivalent, which cannot be said of any dollar won through gambling. Jerry McAuley, who saw the seamy side of life in New York for a long period of years, 75] W$z goung jftan'g affair used to say — " I have seen drunkards become sober, hundreds of them, thieves become hon- est and libertines become pure, but I could count all the gamblers I ever saw reform, on the fingers of one hand." Shun the whole dirty business of gambling as you would shun leprosy. You cannot afford to carry a piece of money in your pocket which is not clean. Earn it — do not steal it ! It ought not to be necessary to say that here in a Christian church nearly forty centuries after God said from the top of Mount Sinai — " Thou shalt not steal." It is necessary! My experience of twenty years in the ministry dealing with boys and young men, having them confide in me and appeal to me to help them out of ter- rible situations, has led me to know that when I stand before any congregation like this, there are young fellows present who are stealing from their employers. That young fellow is here to-night — several of him. The only salvation is for him to stop now, make restitution, and begin to walk so that he can [76] (# internet look God and man in the face whenever his accounts are audited. A prominent minister in a large Eastern city picked out twenty of the leading business men and addressed to them this question, " What is the greatest need of the business world today? " And when the replies came back every man of them, with not a single exception, said " Personal honesty." They knew something of the stealing which is going on. Let me appeal to you as one who has heard the voices of boys and young men tremble and break in their confessions, who has seen their faces ashy white over what they feared was in store for them, who has watched them with their minds intent on State's Prison, wondering if they would soon be there — let me appeal to you, " Never lose out of your own heart the horror of taking what is not yours ! " When you first begin to borrow money out of the drawer you in- tend to put it back — they all do — and per- haps for a time you do put it back. The first time you take it out of the drawer it costs [77] C^e goung jHan'g affair you a struggle. The horror of stealing, however, is dimmed by that practice; by- and-by it fades out altogether; and under temptation you at last become actually and deliberately a thief. Earn your money hon- estly — there is no joy in any other sort of wealth. In the second place a young man relates him- self to money by what he spends — spend it conscientiously ! Of all the fool ambitions which sometime have their hour with young men that of being known as " a good spend- er " is the emptiest. The young fellow who lets his money slip through his fingers easily, recklessly; the man who robs his employer, perhaps, in order to have plenty of automo- bile rides and road-house suppers, and then rides to prison to think it over for a term of years, is very commonly known about town as " a good spender." Men laugh at them, and even the girls have their own ideas on the subject. They know that the young fellow who sends them Ameri- can Beauties when he can scarcely afford [78] is pionzy dandelions is simply indicating that he has more money than brains. When these very girls come to select husbands they prefer men who have more sense. There are lots of girls in this world who are not half as silly as cer- tain foolish men think they are — they quietly laugh in their sleeves at the " good spend- ers," even when the money is being spent on them. California has the undesirable reputation of being the most extravagant state in the Union. Even New York is less lavish in pro- portion to its means, for New York is old and rich, while we are just in our teens. High school boys and girls think they must entertain with the lavishness of well-seasoned society habitues. Boys and girls in grammar school have their ideas of pocket money which stagger the fathers and mothers brought up on a simple and more wholesome regime. You see people flashing along the street in their own automobiles and you won-" der how they can afford it — they cannot af- ford it ; they are simply exhibiting their f ool^ [79] C^e goung jftan'js affair ishness at a rate which breaks all the records. Men sometimes blame it all on the women, and while they have the most to do with set- ting the pace of expenditure a man is a fool who allows himself to go down in financial and moral defeat because of a woman, even though the woman is his wife. We are reap- ing the fruits of this extravagance in those revelations of dishonesty made recently in various high schools and in the exposures of dishonesty high up among club men and young fellows in San Francisco. Extrava- gant spending has become a fruitful source of temptation which in turn has led to ter- rible dishonesty. " Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread? " Bread is the symbol of all that is wholesome. Bread satisfies, bread strengthens, bread enlarges. How much of a young fellow's money goes for that which does neither! He is not satisfied; he is not strengthened; he is not enlarged. It ought to be as much a matter of intelligence and conscience to part with your money wisely [80]" i^te jttottei? and usefully as it was a matter of intelligence and conscience to earn it in the first place. When I was in college I was kept on very short rations — too short I thought then, and I think so still. The stern f rugality, however, was not without its advantages. My room mate in the senior year inherited some twenty odd thousand dollars from his father's es- tate. He had a warm heart; he had not a single vicious taste or habit that I ever dis- covered. He used his money freely in a way that made me envy him. He wore good clothes, when my trousers bagged at the knees. He took in all the good shows that came to town, when I was at home reading a book and wishing that I was at the show. He showered gracious attentions which made him exceedingly popular with the young la- dies. We left college some twenty-five years ago. I was the best man at his wedding a few years later. Ten years ago he wrote to me a pitiful letter — it must have cost him a struggle to put it down in black and white for he had a large amount of personal pride. [81] C^e goimg jfKtan'ss affairs He asked me if I could send him fifty dollars for he was in a desperate situation financial- ly. He was not a bad fellow in any sense, but he had not learned how to spend his money. With the hundreds of children hungry, ill- clad, ignorant ; with the hundreds of men and women straining every nerve to live but go- ing down in defeat ; with every philanthropic institution in need of funds to make its work more widely effective, it becomes a sin and a shame to spend money, no matter how much you have, foolishly, recklessly, wantonly. Put into your spending your best brains and conscience. Money is the stored up life of the men and women who earned it; money is potential ministry that might be rendered to those lives which suffer for the lack of it; money is power to quicken activities whole- some and helpful or vicious and hurtful. Therefore, put wisdom and conscience into the investment of every dollar you spend. In the third place the young man relates himself to money by what he saves — save [82] ^te ffiomy prudently! You will see young fellows hop- ping around in society, chirping to the girls like so many canaries, each one dressed up until he would inventory one hundred and twenty-five dollars, perhaps, as he stands forth in his swallowtail ready for the Friday Night Assembly, and yet many of them hardly know what a bank book looks like. If any one of them went to open an account in a savings bank he would have to be told three times where to sign his name. He is having a good time, but he is postponing marriage and a home. He is putting the suc- cess which might be his a long way off — so far that he may never overtake it in this life. He is missing the larger things in growth, in travel, in enrichment for himself and for those other lives which are bound up with his own, for the sake of the mere gratification which may be in no sense wicked but is unworthy of such a sacrifice. I make it a point to urge every young man to save his money by taking out life insur- ance early. I took out my first policy long [83]" €^e goung jman'g affaftg before I was married — I hoped to be some- time. It was a twenty-year-endowment and it matures this very year. And when I saw my way clear I took out another and another and another. It is not only a protection to the wife and children you have or may have, if you should be called away suddenly ; it is a good way to save money regularly. It does not promise as large a return in the percentage of the dividend as that copper stock or mining share some plausible fellow is trying to sell you, but it is a great deal surer. When you take out a policy and pass the medical examination, you will begin to arrange to meet your premium year by year, and thus you will save steadily. Wise busi- ness men insure their homes and their stores against fire though they may go through life and never have a fire. Every man will die sometime and every man is growing older all the time. The face of an endowment policy will be very convenient when you are twenty or forty years older than you are now. [84] |#j3 ffiLowy It gives a young fellow confidence, self-re- spect, and strengthens his resolution to have accumulated something in a policy, a sav- ings bank, a house and lot or in some safe bonds which older and wiser men advise him to purchase. The financial effects of it are good and the moral effects better still. He begins to feel that he has a stake in life. He has been providing for his own interests and for those of the family he has or may have; and there is a satisfaction in that which goes away ahead of the purchase of American Beauty roses, automobile rides, theater par- ties or wine suppers. If you would relate your own inner life to money in a wholesome way save prudently. And finally a young man relates himself to money by what he gives — give generously and systematically. Money is one of the most useful servants in the world, but it is a terrible and a degrading master. When money has mastered a man it puts a look in his eye that is like cold steel and it draws lines around his mouth which make it look [85] C^e gouna, ittan'g affair like a trap. You may earn honestly, spend wisely and save prudently and still allow mon- ey to be your master instead of making it the servant of moral purpose, the messenger of good will. You must couple, therefore, with the other three habits formed early and steadfastly that of giving generously and systematically. I would urge every young man to begin to give a tenth of his income. The Jews did it and they were blessed temporally and spiritu- ally. They are still the bankers of the world and they formerly held the right of the line in moral insight and spiritual passion. The Mormons did it, and with all the moral de- facements of their system they have trans- formed arid Utah into a garden of prosper- ity beyond the wildest dreams of the founders of that community. " Honor the Lord with thy substance and with the first fruits of all thine increase, so shall thy barns be filled with plenty and thy presses shall burst out with new wine." " Bring all your tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine [86]' i^te pLonty house, and prove me now herewith, saith the Lord of Hosts, and see if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it." Whenever a dollar comes to you set aside ten cents of it for charity and benevolence. Keep that fund sacredly, and then use the other ninety cents to spend or to save. You will find that you will be greatly blessed financially and morally in that sys- tematic method. I began to give that way twenty years ago when my own income was very small. I kept it up when it cost me a hard struggle. I have earned all the money I have ever had since I left my father's house. I have not stolen it, nor gambled for it, nor inherited it, nor married a dollar of it. I have been great- ly blessed in that systematic giving, and I commend it to all men, young and old. If you would keep money your servant and not allow it to master you, begin early, when you are not independently rich, thus forming a habit of systematic benevolence. You will [87] €^e goims Jttan'ss affairs come to rejoice in a higher and a better prosperity for the blessing of God upon fidelity and obedience is one that maketh rich and bringeth no sorrow therewith. In setting out to earn your own money hon- estly, to spend it wisely, to save some of it prudently, and to give a certain proportion of it generously, expect and accept a certain amount of struggle, hardship, sacrifice. What are your health and ambition for but to face and conquer all this! When any young man's main interest is in avoiding pain and seeking ease ; when he is always insisting on comfort and grasping for luxury, he does not deserve to be young. He is not young — he is already old and defeated. Accept the struggle and the sacrifice! Rejoice in it all, for that is what transforms pulp into reli- able fiber, boys into men ! [88] W Kttmtions [89] It was a wise man who wrote long ago — There is a time to weep and a time to laugh, A time to mourn and a time to dance; God has made everything beautiful in its time. [90] CHAPTER FIFTH f i$ matatiovft OU see the rhythmic process he had in mind. It is the way of the world that there should be action and re- action, alternating cur- rents, each with its special quality. The man who sets out for a life of unbroken service and strenuousness breaks himself in the attempt. The bow must be unstrung occasionally if it is to retain its spring. Varying moods must alternate, each in the interest of the other. A man who weeps all the time, or laughs all the time, who slaves all the time or plays all the time, is out of line with the divine purpose, out of line with the constitution of things as they are. There is a time for seriousness and a time for gay- ety ; a time for work and a time for play. " He has made everything beautiful in its time," — each mood and each interest gains [91] W$t goung jHan'0 affafttf its beauty and its value by being held to its own place in the large scheme by a sound sense of proportion. I would suggest at the outset certain general principles which I believe every sensible man will accept. First of all our distinctions in the matter of amusements must be sound and real, not arbitrary and artificial. Tell the boy it is right to play croquet with wooden balls on green grass, but wrong to play billiards with ivory balls on green cloth, and he will insist on knowing the reason why. Tell him it is right to play dominoes using ivory blocks with spots on them, but that it is wrong to play whist using pieces of card- board with spots on them, he will insist on having the distinction brought out. There is no valid distinction forthcoming. Our dis- tinctions must be sound. They must hold water. In the second place the attitude must be a positive one not merely negative. It is not enough to steer clear of the more striking evils, merely making our recreations harm- [92] l$i$ isecreatfonss less. Playing tiddledywinks or croldnole or button is harmless, but you can scarcely call it recreation. Recreation must bring pleas- ure, real, live, human pleasure, with fire in its eye and red blood in its veins. " Our bodies are good, every function of them, and the pleasure which comes from an intelligent and conscientious use of them is God's own seal upon that right use." Our minds are good and that eager joy which comes to them in certain forms of recreation is a thing to thank high heaven for — high heaven or- dained it so. Our social natures which find expression in and become enlarged by whole- some recreation are meant to glorify the divine purpose and enjoy it forever. The relaxations of young people must be of such a form that they will be desirable and pleas- urable, not merely harmless. In the third place there must be a sense of proportion. Amusements at their best are only the flowers on the table and not the roast. You cannot live on the bouquet. The young fellow who spends all his spare time [93] C^e goung 0ian f $ attains and spare cash on recreation, thinking of it when he ought to be thinking of some serious business is in a fair way to sleep in the hall bedroom a good while. You will not succeed because you can play billiards or bridge or dance better than any young fellow in town. The world is not waiting to give its money, its confidence or its gratitude to those chaps. It has its eagle eye on the more serious busi- ness of life and that is what yields the most satisfying return in every man's career. " A time to laugh and a time to dance," the wise man said — that time is not all the time nor at two o'clock in the morning when there is work to be done next day. In recreations even of the wholesome sort there must be sub- ordination of that which is incidental to that which is essential. In the fourth place every recreation ought to bring more than it takes. Recreation — re-creation ! What a vital thing it is ! It is meant to furnish the man a fuller supply of energy, enthusiasm, fitness for hard manly effort next day. That definition, I fear, [94] pi3 IKecreattonjs would put many of the popular recreations out of the running. But it is a legitimate test. My recreations must be such that the body is recruited not weakened, the mind made more alert not blurred, the moral nature kept keen and alive not dulled nor blinded. The recreation must bring real live human pleasure and yet stand this test. Each amusement must bring more than it takes away. In the fifth place my pleasure cannot be gained at another's loss. The day has gone by everywhere when men and women can find pleasure in being cannibals. No matter how hungry they are they do not want to eat the flesh or drink the blood of their fellows. The whole idea is repulsive and there are better things to eat and drink. The day has gone by among really civilized people — there are people who wear collars and cuffs and eat with their forks, who are not genuinely civil- ized — when men and women can take pleas- ure in any amusement which means the loss of money or modesty, of aspiration or fitness [95] C^e goimg jftan'g affairs for the highest things, to a fellow-being. Money, modesty, aspiration, fitness for the highest things are elements in life, as vital as the flesh and blood of the body. The man who gambles and goes home happy because he has gotten some other man's money into his pocket and has sent him home poor, is a cannibal — he derives pleasure from eating his fellow. The men who gather in the theater and pay to see girls come out on the stage dressed — I mean undressed — in a way that means the destruction of that fine modesty which is a woman's crown, are can- nibals. For the gratification of their own desires they have eaten up the modesty of those girls, who have not strength enough or sense enough to resist the temptation to sell their womanly delicacy for so much a week. You would cut off your right hand and do your best with your left rather than have your wife or daughter, your sister or sweet- heart, expose herself in that way for pay. You are a cannibal if for your own gratifica- tion you help destroy that fine modesty in 196] i^te iSccteatfoitiS any woman. Carry the principle all the way through — right-minded, honest-hearted men and women will not find pleasure in the loss or degradation of another life. I do not know that I need say anything more. I have discussed these five principles with young men a great many times here and in my own home, at Stanford University, where I lectured on ethics for six years, and at the University of California where I am lecturing now every week to the students. I have never heard a young man who called himself a decent fellow undertake to combat any one of them. Our distinctions must be sound and real ; our attitude must be positive, insisting on recreations which are thoroughly enjoyable not merely harmless; a just and reasonable sense of proportion must be main- tained; each pleasure must bring more than it takes away, — it must re-create ; each pleasure must be gained without the loss of money or modesty, of aspiration or fitness for the highest things to others who are in- volved with us. If any boy or man will take [97]' C^e goimg jttan'js Mm$ these five principles, paste them in his hat and live under their beneficent sway, I have no further word to say to him in the way of rules or prohibitions. He will steer his craft clear of the rocks in this matter of recrea- tion and bring it at last into the desired haven. In all this series of addresses I am making my main plea to the men who have their heads up, intent on being and doing some- thing worth while. If you are bent on striv- ing for an honorable success at the bar, or in medicine, as an engineer or in business, as a teacher or preacher, you will have to put intelligence and conscience into your choice of recreations. Competition is keen — the world will not take " any old thing " these days. The strain is severe — when you be- gin to rise toward the top you will find that you have not an ounce of nervous force to waste. You cannot afford now to squander either money or time in view of the de- mands which will be made upon you as you advance. You will need it all, and your ex- [98] 1$i$ iSecttationg penditures must re-create impulses for effec- tive action. If this does not awaken any response in your heart, if you are satisfied to dawdle and lag behind, then it does not matter much with what particular crowd of weaklings you saunter. You can sit up half the night play- ing cards and inhaling cigarette smoke; you can frequent theaters which help to pass the evening but do nothing more ; you can allow those amusements which weaken the body rather than recruit it, dull the mind rather than sharpen it, cloud the moral nature in place of making it more sympathetic and alive, to have their way with you. But if you mean to count one somewhere, you can- not afford to treat the question of recreation lightly. And in that serious purpose to do and to be something splendid, joy ought to have a large place. The first word in the Sermon on the Mount is " happy " — you find it translated in the ordinary version " blessed," but that is only a deep and abiding form of [99] €^e goimg jjttan's? affafrjs happiness. A long face and a clear conscience may go together — they are not inseparable. Where there is a clear conscience, the long face indicates something wrong with the liver or with the general scheme of things in that particular life. The corners of the mouth were meant to be turned up not down. Tears which now and then must come are meant to wash the eyes out, leaving them clear, with a more sympathetic insight and a finer radi- ance. It is not only consistent with a serious purpose but imperative for its full realiza- tion that wise and conscientious provision be made for recreation of the life forces through honest pleasure. I would make a strong plea for those forms of recreation which take us into the open air. The young man who has a sound pair of legs under him, has a simple, inexpensive, satis- fying source of recreation right at hand. A tramp through the hills, along some river, up the mountain side, when that is within reach, is always in order. No man ever walks to his grave, — he rides finally in a hearse, and [100] pg ISecreattonjs he may be riding there swiftly in an automo- bile or behind a fast horse or by some other form of indulgence which he cannot afford. The more exciting and exhausting forms of pleasure sought after by city men often leave them with a distaste for the simpler modes of recreation. All the stars in the sky, all the wild flowers in the field, all the sweep and slope of hill and mountain, all the songs of the birds and the appeal of rock and tree become dull to them. Alas ! that they lose the capacity for those finer forms of pleasure. Distrust all those recreations which breed a distaste for healthy, simple, satisfying things — at last they will bite like a serpent and sting like an adder. Football, baseball, tennis, golf, boating, bicycling, tramping, fishing, how good they all are ! And they are within the reach of such vast numbers of men ! It is one of the reproaches of our industrial system that they are not open to all. They leave no dark brown taste in the mouth. They rob no one of money or modesty or aspiration. They [101] v v of .. J C^e goung Jftan'g affair bring more than they take away ; they aid every man in feeling that it is forever fore- noon and the day is before him. I maintain that every Sunday ought to bring outdoor opportunity for all city men who spend the week in offices and stores. If a man were nothing but body, he might spend the whole of Sunday in that way. But a man has a mind needing the higher and vaster truths ; a man has a soul needing worship, fellowship and that form of aspiration and service which expresses and deepens his love for God and man. Every life, however, ought to plan for these outdoor periods which do so much to recreate the sense of power. I would appeal for those forms of recreation which involve brains and skill rather than mere chance. There is nothing inherently wrong in the fact that a game has an element of chance in it, — the old game of Authors had that. The element of chance entering in- to the good game of whist which can yield so much honest and wholesome pleasure does not in any wise vitiate it. It is a matter of [ 102] Pis KccteatfottjS experience, however, that games of chance are most readily utilized for gambling. Against the whole wretched habit of gambling — men's sizes, women's sizes, children's sizes — I would utter the strongest protest I can frame, for it is the shame of modern life. Fashionable whist clubs which meet and play for prizes are in line with poker and faro and the race track, — the difference is one of degree not of principle. What can a mother, who habitually plays bridge for so much sil- ver made up into a card receiver, calling it a " prize," say, when her son begins to play poker for so much silver coined into dollars, calling them " stakes." They are both in the same boat; the boy knows it and the mother knows it ; and they are floating down stream so far as unstained integrity goes, the boy nearer the rapids perhaps than the mother dreams. Think of a man being so reduced in brains, in heart, in social sympathy that he cannot go and play some game with his neighbor for the sheer pleasure of it ! Think of him as not [ 103] Ctye poung, jttan'g affattg feeling adequately entertained unless he can bag something of value to carry home as a prize. It is a wretched fashion for societ} r to establish ! It helps to undermine that sense of rugged honesty and to break down that finer self respect. When the revelations of dishonesty among the pupils of a High School bring consternation to a whole com- munity, the women who have been playing bridge for money at so much a point and ordinary whist for prizes, ought in all fair- ness to say — " We helped ! We are guilty with the boys, and now we will stop and try to develop brains enough to amuse ourselves without any suspicion or taint of gam- bling." The finer games, chess for example, which is the king of all games in that class, make the stronger appeal. You cannot play chess be- tween bites of gossip, — it requires attention. I could not tell you how many delightful hours on shipboard or on the train or dur- ing the leisure of some vacation I have en- joyed in matching my skill against that of [ 104 ] $fg Kecreatfong another across the chess board. Every young man ought to learn it for the joy of know- ing a game which takes his mind completely off of everything else and yields an inde- scribable pleasure. Billiards ought not to be handed over to the devil. The tables are often found in saloons and in the bars of the large hotels, but the game is both enjoyable and wholesome. It is a good thing that many families are pro- viding tables for their sons and daughters who play under right conditions with their friends. It is good that the Young Men's Christian Association in many eastern cities is putting billiard tables in the Association buildings to help reclaim that noble game from its evil associations. So all games where skill and brains are to the fore and chance is slight or entirely eliminated, offer the best form of sport. I would appeal for those forms of recreation which aid in developing a fine sense of chiv- alry. I was brought up to think that it was wrong to dance — I believe this was an er- [105] Ctye goung jttan'g £ffait# roneous moral judgment. I know the abuses of it, late hours, promiscuous associations, drinking on the part of men at the adj oining bars, postures which are not conducive to re- finement. These are bad and only bad, but they can be eliminated and dancing used instead of abused. " There is a time to dance " the wise man said — that time is not two o'clock in the morning. The place is not where the conditions surrounding the dance are morally undesirable. But for right- minded young people to dance together with the mothers of the girls and boys present as chaperons, at reasonable hours, in their own homes, or at other places as unobjection- able, and with an eye to avoiding extrav- agance, offers a form of social recreation which has, I believe, a rightful place in a Christian civilization. Like other forms of recreation it ought to bring out the finer qualities, not the lower. The man who engages in it should by that very fact be made a more chivalrous, con- siderate and serviceable man. When the [106] 1$i$ Eecreatfoug young fellow slips out between dances to drink whiskey or other intoxicants, and then comes back to blow the fumes of it in the faces of the young women ; when he allows himself to surrender that much more to the animalism which whiskey rapidly induces, every decent woman ought to turn her back on him. When the young fellows here at a certain " Assembly " insisted on going out to smoke and inhale the cigarette fumes, com- ing back to blow their offensive breath in the faces of the young ladies, they needed rebuke. When the chaperons politely remonstrated the little chaps swelled up and said — " You cannot have your parties without us — we will do as we please." They thought they were gentlemen because they wore swallow- tails, but there are men digging in the streets at two dollars a day who have tenfold more courtesy and chivalry. The young ladies should have said " You cannot have your parties without us, and we stand for that higher level of good breeding, which you are not disposed to show." The girls who [107] C^e goung jftan'g £ffaft# do not dance with such young fellows will live just as long and have just as good a time and reach the end without the sense of having missed anything worth while. All our social recreation ought to leave us with a more perfect courtesy, a finer chivalry and a purer unselfishness. I plead for those forms of recreation which send a man back to his work, whatever it may be, in better not in worse shape to make the quality of it fine, up to his limit. Spend your evenings in such a way that next day you will have in you the spirit of the morn- ing! Shape up your pleasures in such a way that they will not breed distaste for duty, but a keener zest and relish in the dis- charge of it. You know the German saying : 11 Die Morgcnstunde Hat Gold im Munde." The morning hours have gold in their mouths. This is true in business, in the pro- fession, in the work of education, in humane service. But it is only true where the even- [108] l$i$ Kecrcatfong ing hours were spent in such a way that the morning brings with it the spirit of the morn- ing. I have no manner of doubt but that nine- tenths of our American young men would do well to lop off a full half of the money and time spent on recreation. For every young man in a twentieth century city who spends too little there are ten who spend too much. A young man started to climb Mount Blanc, carrying with him all manner of things, wine and delicacies, which he intended to enjoy when he reached the summit; a gay hat, and a blanket which he would then wrap around him to keep off the chill; a camera with an elaborate arrangement by which he could photograph himself at the various stages of the journey. The guide smiled and noticed that one by one these things were left behind, as the path grew steep. The young fellow laid aside his wine and sweetmeats ; then the gay hat and blanket were abandoned ; at last the heavy camera was also left behind, and when he reached the top he stood there a [ 109 ]. C^e points jttan'js affair man equipped for climbing, with the impedi- menta left behind. If you intend to climb Mount Blanc or even one of the lesser peaks in your business, your profession, your trade, in the equipment of your home, in the enjoy- ment of travel, in winning the esteem and confidence of your fellowmen, you will need to throw off a lot of that rubbish you are carrying in the form of recreation. Whether you eat or drink, work or play, weep or laugh, do all things to the glory of God. And what is the glory of God? Wherein does it find expression? He is above all tilings a Father, and His glory is the fulfilment of His beneficent purpose in the development of the lives of His children to their utmost. Nothing lies outside of that purpose. Noth- ing can be allowed to come in to hinder it. Carry your recreations up and decide upon them in the light of that sublime truth! Compel each one to open its heart and declare to you its real intent as it undertakes to fasten itself upon your life ! And if you insist that each recreation must [110] 1$ i$ Kecttatfonss yield more than it takes in those physical, mental, social and moral values which count in the work of life; if you insist that each pleasure shall hold itself subordinate to your main purpose ; if you steadfastly require that no pleasure of yours shall be enjoyed at the cost of the finer values in those other lives involved, then indeed you will eat and drink, work and play to the glory of your Maker ! [Ill] m$ witz [113] CHAPTER SIXTH W Witt T would be a great gain if the whole matter of love and marriage might be lift- ed to a higher level in the minds of young and old alike. The attachments of youth more than half the time are made a matter of thoughtless joke or of weak sen- timentality, and yet they lead oftentimes to what is vital beyond any other one interest you can name. Young people are making the most momentous decisions of their lives, as these bear upon happiness, prosperity, character, in the back parlor with the gas turned halfway down. They are making these decisions in a sweet swoon of sentiment — they had better have their eyes open, their wits about them, and view the whole question in broad daylight. You would not think of buying a house and lot, or a farm by moon- 11151 C^e gouttg jEan'ss affair light, yet all the real estate you will ever own cuts no figure at all in its bearing upon life as compared with the wisdom or the unwisdom you show in the placing of your affections. Business men read documents over before they sign them. Young people had better read the marriage service over and think of what the several clauses in it imply. It is not wise to postpone its serious consideration until the last moment when you are breathlessly asking the minister where you are to come in with your responses. " Marriage is an honorable estate, instituted of God and commended by St. Paul; and therefore, is not by anyone to be entered into lightly or unadvisedly, but reverently, dis- creetly, soberly and in the fear of God." You will find that all the larger intentions of life fare better when they are solidly grounded in reason, reflection and religious purpose as well as clothed with lovely sen- timent. You are to take each other the ser- vice says, " for better " — that's easy — [116] is Witt " for worse," because this too comes often- times and it is well to face such a possibility in advance ! " For richer " — any girl is cheerily ready to do that ; " for poorer " — she may be called upon to stand beside a man through years of financial struggle and de- feat ! " In sickness and in health " — you are to ask yourself as a man if you have it in you to show the same fine fidelity and tender- ness through possible years of expensive in- validism on the part of your wife as when she cheerily walked out beside you for a long tramp through the hills ! It may all come in the day's work and it is well to read the document over, weighing its various clauses before you sign it. " A good wife is from the Lord " — think of her in that high-minded serious way ! Accept her as the choicest gift high heaven can bestow upon your life. Undertake to dis- cover in her fitness for you and yours for her, as this comes to be revealed under the power of a strong and pure affection that divine purpose which shall find its glorious and [1171 C^e goung Jttan'g afEaitjs beautiful fulfilment through the unfolding years. Those noble unions into which reason, con- science and religious purpose have entered, as well as the joy and passion of youth, have a thousandfold more promise in them than all the hasty, ill-considered attachments which may be only passing fancies at their best. You ought to be able to say without the least suspicion of artificiality touching the sense of reserve power, of unrevealed capacity in the young woman who is to share your life: " / love thee then Not for thy face, which might indeed provoke Invasion of strange cities, but Because Infinity upon thee broods And thou art full of meaning and of promise. Thou sayest what all the seas have yearned to say, Thou art what all the winds have uttered not, Thy voice is like sweet music from another world." You ought not to fall in love — rise to it ! Let your mutual response, each to the other's [118] W$ &ttt charm, mean the elevation of the whole tone, purpose and spirit of your lives under the power of a noble affection. Marriage is not a failure, although hundreds of thousands of people are failing in their attempt at it. It is the Matterhorn in the whole range of earthly privilege. Only the elect who can show those qualities of body, brain and soul necessary for the climb are privileged to reach the top. However high you may finally climb make up your mind to use your best strength not to add another to the list of marital failures. Carry your married joy far up the steep ascent! I suppose I have attended more weddings than any other person here, unless there hap- pens to be present some older clergyman whose period of service is still longer. I sup- pose the minister of a large parish like this comes to know the inside workings of more homes than any other man in the community unless it be the family physician with a large practice. I have seen a great many girls enter gaily into unions when it would have [119] €I?e ^oung jttan'g affair been for their happiness rather to have had their hands chopped off, or their eyes put out instead. A girl would think a long time before she would consent to such a mutila- tion as that, and yet the mutilation of mind and soul which comes by marrying a man of unworthy character goes far beyond it. I have seen young fellows in a spirit of bravado or recklessness marry and then for years live so that their experiences were like walking through hell barefoot, bringing up at last in the melancholy debris of the divorce court. Because I see these things and am called upon to suffer with those who suffer, you will understand why I speak of this whole matter with a certain noble seriousness. Let me offer then out of a wide experience some very practical suggestions. First of all, earn your right to be married! Earn it physically! You have no right to bring the taint of vicious disease or the scars of vile debauchery to wed on equal terms with purity and honor. You will feel like a whelp if you do — whether she knows or the world knows [ 120] ty» Witt or not, you will know. When you hear some plausible scoundrelly argument put forward for impurity down here at the High School or on the boat, or in some hour of reckless dissipation, think how you would feel if you heard such a sentiment from the lips of your sister or your sweetheart. Scorn it all, as you would have her scorn it ! Earn your right to be married morally. Blessed be God for the faith and hope and love of good women, but you have no right to impose upon that gracious disposition. If you find yourself in the grip of some appe- tite, liquor, gambling or what not, have the common decency to fight your own battle through and win it first, that you may offer her a man and not a victim. [Earn your right to be married financially. A girl who is worth marrying is not a fool. She does not expect you to be as prosperous at the beginning of your life as her father is at the close of his. She is willing, if there is anything of the woman in her, to share in the struggle and enjoy the success which will [121] C^e goung jftan's affair come by-and-by, all the more because she helped bring it about. There are girls who lack this readiness — " charlotte russe girls," someone called them, " all whipped cream and little sponge cakes and high-priced flavoring extracts, but nei- ther satisfying nor nourishing." The girl of sense is not like that — she does not want to begin her housekeeping on the same scale as that upon which her mother leaves off. Take for granted her readiness to make sacrifices with you joyously, because of her love for you. But even so know that it is an unmanly thing to take a girl out of her father's home and away from the opportunity of making any other union unless you have a reasonable prospect of being able to provide for her comfort. There are a lot of old saws which ought to be retired. " Two people can live on less than one " — it cannot be done. You might as well say that two and two make five. You will find that the multiplication table is still in force however much you and your bride [ 122 ] $f* Witt may be in love with each other. A man's hat costs three dollars or three dollars and a half — even a Dunlap or a Stetson only five. Cast your eye on one of those lovely creations which obstruct the view and try to think what a sealed bid on such a structure as that would probably reveal. Any wife doubles a man's expenses, and if she is a good wife she more than doubles his happiness — so it all comes out right in the trial balance. It is the part of good sense to think of all this even before you find yourself engaged. It is well to think of it when you are tempted to spend all your spare cash on unnecessary indulgences. A substantial account in the savings bank or a life insurance policy on which you have been paying for a number of years will be a very pleasant thought to you when you are on your way to the jewel- er's to buy the wedding ring. Earn your right to be married physically, morally, financially. In the second place, be married, unless there is some hard fact standing in the way which [ 123] C^e gowng plan's! affair makes it impossible. You cannot do anything better for the human race, taking it by and large, than to build one more normal and happy home in the world. What other insti- tution is there for which you can become individually responsible, that compares with it? Out of such homes, as from no other source, issue those influences and activities which inspire industry with finer principles and invest social life with a purer spirit, ennoble the state and strengthen the church. What better thing anywhere on God's green earth is there than such a home? Your pleas- ure, your convenience, your career will not weigh for a moment over against such an asset to society as that real home which you might go and build. The men who refuse to marry, making excep- tions here and there for those individuals who because of ill-health or peculiar family circumstances or other valid reasons, find it impossible, are selfish men. Each one might be making some good woman happy, but he prefers to spend his all on himself. They de- [124] $fe Witt serve the feeling which all rightly constituted men and women have for them. We may joke about them as "jolly old bachelors," but the world withholds from them its genuine regard. It is an abnormal, cowardly way to live for the man who chooses it voluntarily, and unless there is some insuperable obstacle which makes marriage impossible, you should not be willing to march under that sorry flag. In the third place, marry the right woman. While I urge every young man to be married and have a home, I do not mean that he should leap in at the slightest provocation. As Senator Beveridge puts it, " The fact that it is advantageous for a man to learn to swim does not mean that he should jump into the first stream he comes to with all his clothes on." It is not well to propose to a girl " before you have had time to notice whether her front hair and back hair match." I use the expression symbolically as well as literally, for you may find that she has two kinds of adornment in her manners, her mind [125] Ctye goung jttau'g &ffafrj8 and her disposition. It is well to know whether the young lady who receives you in the evening so delightfully when you call is the same young lady who responds next morn- ing to her mother's summons to assist in pre- paring the family breakfast. It is well to take time to consider all these things in advance for when you are once married you will be married a good while. You think it is wonderful that some girl is interested in you because you have shown an interest in her ; that when you are with her she makes you feel that you are almost a god. Girls have been doing that ever since Eve walked as a bride among the trees of the Garden. You cannot throw a stone in a crowded city without hitting twenty girls who would do the same thing if you should show an interest in any one of them. And it is just as well to beware of the girl who is too ready with her response — if she is a girl worth having she wants to look you over to see if your front hair matches your back hair. [126] $$ miz Beware of the girl who is perfectly willing to have you spend four or five evenings a week in her company. In the days when knight- hood was in flower, it was said that no man's armor was ever fitted to him aright until the hand of affection had buckled it on. And when the woman who loved a brave man sent him forth encased in steel, her mark of affec- tion upon his cheek, she expected him to do and to dare, to take a man's full part in the life of the world. A woman who has not brains enough to have a pride in and a con- cern for a man's achievements in the field of serious manly effort, who prefers to have him always dancing attendance upon her pleas- ure, is of no help to a man possessed of genuine aspiration. Marry the right girl — hasty, foolish, ill- advised marriages are responsible for nine- tenths of the melancholy wreckage in the divorce courts. There is a law pending be- fore our Legislature at this time to provide for more publicity and more deliberation in the act of marriage. As it is now a young [127] €^e gouug 0Lan'$ Mait$ fellow can get a marriage license in about fifteen minutes whenever the fit is on him, and at once stand up before a minister for four minutes more, and then put in a good many years cursing himself for being a fool, or causing some woman to curse the day she first saw him. Take your time, take your time, even though your emotions are fairly sweep- ing you off your feet ! It will be better to sit down now and consider the whole matter care- fully in advance. Emotions and all, those unions which are based on acquaintance, knowledge, ascertained congeniality and fit- ness are the ones which best stand the wear and tear and finally yield the most. I know exactly how you feel when you meet one of those girls who is " just a dream " — I have felt that way myself. She has a far- away look in her eyes ; she quotes Shelley and Browning; she has a plaintive, vox humcina stop in her voice, which she pulls out when she speaks of " kismet " and fate, or hints at tragedies in her own emotional history. She is a dream of a girl, but dreams are poor [ 128 ] W &$* things to build on — they are liable to end in nightmares. Something more substantial and ascertainable would be preferable, and you are wise if you take time to give the woman of your choice the fullest consideration. Here are some principles of selection which you will find useful. Before marriage the face, the figure, the manner seem to count for everything. They have their value all the way along, but after marriage mind, heart, soul, are rated higher, and you will think so too before you have celebrated your first wedding anniversary. Marry a woman first of all of sterling moral character — a woman who does not lie, nor steal, nor act meanly; a woman capable of self-restraint and self-sacrifice — she will need these qualities if she marries you or me or any man ; a woman kindly and gen- erous in her prevailing moods and temper; a woman with a great power of sympathy, which is the feminine grace that well-nigh outweighs all the rest. Seek for these fine qualities as the basis of character, and then the more beauty of person and social win- [129] Clje goung jttan'js affair someness the better ! The woman within the woman is the one you will live with; she is the one to whom you will be compelled to go for the strength and joy that married life should bring. I would not speak slightingly of outward attractions — " Beauty is only skin deep," Lorimer said, " but that's deep enough for all practical purposes." The woman you can look at with some degree of comfort is to be preferred to the opposite type, other things being equal. But other considerations weigh ; no matter how pretty she is, you must ask: Has she any mind? Does she read anything besides the novels of the day? Can she think, and when she thinks does she produce any- thing? Has she any serious purpose in life? Has she any ideals, fine enough, high enough, inclusive enough, to hang up in your sky and hers; and does she take them seriously? Has she the power of making friends among women as well as men, for the woman who shines only when with men and not with her own sex belongs in the same sorry category [ 130] W$ £We with " The Ladies' Man." Does she pray? She will need that fine form of aid for herself and for you, in your times of temptation, defeat, sorrow, and for those children which may be yours. These habits of mind and soul are the ones which ought to tip the scales of your choice ! Marry the right woman ! And finally when you are married, stay mar- ried. In California last year in a certain county there was one divorce to every ten marriages, and in another county one divorce to every four marriages. The gruesome rec- ords of the divorce courts and the array of irregular attachments and scandals which lead up to them, as revealed by the daily press, are appalling. We might as well stand up man-fashion and say that four-fifths of it all is our fault. There are faults on the other side. There are women I would not live with even though I had been so unfortunate as to have married one of them. I would not live with an im- moral woman ; I would not live with a woman who was an habitual drunkard. But short of [131] €^e points Jftan'js affair some form of outrageous wrongdoing I am just old-fashioned enough to believe that nothing should cause a man to leave the wife whom he has sworn to protect or to take such an attitude as compels her to leave him, so long as they both shall live. The man is the aggressor. He seeks the girl out, — she does not go to him and suggest marriage. He takes her out of her father's home, away from the other men who might have married her. He stands up before God and man and in the most solemn way prom- ises to do everything that a man can do, to love, honor and protect her so long as they both shall live. You may hear some young fellow whine about his affairs, after he has been married a few years and plead as an ex- cuse for his growing interest in some affinity — " I was not happy." Suppose he was not ! He may not be happy when he goes down to pay his taxes, or when he finds he has signed some contract which turns out to be for his loss, or when he must fulfil any one of a hun- dred hard duties which belong to manly in- [ 132 ] m$ E?ffe tegrity ! It is a question of honor and of keeping one's word, not of feeling tickled every moment of the time ! If the woman wants to live with him and is not a bad woman, he is pledged to strive with all his might to live with her and to do his best to make her happy. All this wretched talk about " affinities " in justification of marital infidelity, all these problem plays and decadent stories dealing with those abnormal attachments which lead to immorality, what a mess of rotten apples it all makes ! We need the rigor and the vigor of some northwest wind to clear the air ! This very week this case came into my own study. A man married a lovely girl here three years ago. There are now two little children. The woman trusted him and loved him and thought he was one of the best of men. Within the last six months he has been neg- lecting her, — he " was not happy," he said ; he had found an " affinity " elsewhere. Now he has left her altogether, and she must return to her father's house to get bread for [ 133] "^k. ^"-^J C^e goung jttan'g &Mv$ herself and her children. I suppose we did right in abolishing the old whipping post, where men for certain offenses were tied up and given forty lashes across their bare backs, but with such a man as that to deal with I wish we had some proper modern de- vice to show the resentment of decent society against such a crime. A well-appointed marriage is an inspiration and a joy forever, but no true man will allow himself to go down in defeat morally, finan- cially or otherwise because he made a mis- taken choice. His own manhood, as well as the stability of those domestic relations which lie at the basis of all moral advance in society is at stake. Not in more stringent divorce laws ; not in the rivetting of stronger rules upon human conduct, but in the development of a finer chivalry on the part of men toward women, and of a truer sympathy on the part of women toward men are we to find our domestic salvation. Turn to the Lord Christ! How He guarded and protected and upheld the woman! She [ 134] f t» Wilt might be an erring woman ; she might be a woman lacking in judgment; she might be a woman weak and frail in her whole make-up, — no matter, the Son of Man, the typical Man would shield and sustain her by His finer strength! In a fuller measure of that Christian chivalry which bears all things, hopes all things, endures all things, that it may make full proof of its manly devotion, we shall build around the home its best de- fense. [135] te €t)mti) i i3 7 j CHAPTER SEVENTH PiS €t)UVtt) OU have allowed me to speak to you on these evenings we have been spending to- gether touching the vari- ous aspects of the young man's life. We have been thinking of his main purpose and of his friends, of his books and of his recreations, of the money he controls and of the home he hopes to build ! We come now to that which, in a way, should underlie all the rest, lifting them into a higher meaning and clothing them with a finer strength. The young man needs religion, just as surely as he needs money and friends, books and a home — and I know of no better place to gain it and maintain it than in some branch of the Church of Jesus Christ. Just ahead of this splendid young fellow, full-blooded and resolute, stands a tempta- [139] C^e ^oung jttan'g affair tion awaiting him, — it will test him as the storm tests a ship. Will he conquer it or will it have its way with him? Just ahead of him stands a hard duty, a chance to bear his part man-fashion in the everlasting battle which is on between the higher and the lower! Will he shirk or will he shoulder arms and go to the front, ready to take his own full share in the struggle ? Just ahead of him stands one of those awful sorrows, which come oftentimes to old and young alike! Will he meet it and not flinch, holding his course as a true man and impart- ing strength to those around him, or will he prove a weakling? These are questions which must be answered, yes or no, not with the lips, but by the life. And these are questions to which the answers are worked out not in the chemistry class or in the engineering building where you study, not in the office or the store where you work, not in the club house or other resort where you play, so much as in that place where above all else men are brought face to face [ 140] i^tSf Cl)mx^ with God, and taught to feel a sense of fel- lowship with Him, who is the ultimate source of moral strength. " On this rock I will build my church." The words fell from the lips of One who was still young, only thirty-two. They indicate the purpose which was fundamental to His life work. He ^ wrote no books. He painted no pictures. He amassed no wealth. He gath- ered together some men and women who be- lieved in Him and shared His spirit, and then He built them into a church. It was the main thing He came to do — He committed the truths He had taught and the whole movement He had started into the keeping of that little church. It is well for us to recall the divine initiative in the organization of the church and the high estimate placed upon it by One who knew and spake to our needs as never man spake. " On this rock I will build " — He spoke these words to a group of young men with their lives ahead of them. When one of the group spoke out his own faith, love and loyalty to [141] , C^e goiws jttau'js affair the Master, Christ said : " Blessed art thou — on this I will build ! " He saw around Him many who felt an admiration for what He was doing. They said, " He is equal to John the Baptist, or Elijah, or Jeremiah, or any one of the prophets." All this had a certain value but not the highest. Close beside Him were a few young men who trusted Him unreserv- edly and openly confessed Him as the Lord and Savior of men. They were out and out about it, and they became the ground of His hope. " On this rock I will build," He said, " and the forces of evil shall not prevail against it." He entrusted to that group of young men, who were clear-cut in their loyalty to Him, a tremendous responsibility and a splendid privilege along the line of moral usefulness. " I will give you the keys," He said — " I will make you competent to open the door for your fellow-men into a larger and nobler way of life." It is nothing official or perfunctory which Christ is describing here. The petty ecclesiasticism which undertakes to wrap all [ 142 ] $f0 CljUtCl) these fine realities up in a surplice misses the meaning of the whole passage. He was pic- turing that strong and vital service, which young men anywhere, when once they become allied with Him, could render their associates. Your influence for good or for evil as you go out brim full of that unwearying energy which belongs to youth, can become so potent that what you loose on earth will be loosed in heaven, and what you bind on earth will be bound in heaven ! You can by your own moral influence help to fasten men in their sins or help to free them, in a way that will send its results on into the unseen world. What a glorious thing to stand up young, strong, clean, and have the Master of men speak to you like that ! What a splendid privilege to have the One who has set all the leading nations of the world dating their his- tory, their contracts, their correspondence from the date of His birth, 1909 years ago, address you in those terms ! How magnifi- cent to be one of the group to whom He com- mits such a trust ! " On this I will build ! " [ 143] C^e $otmg ittan'ss affaftg " I will give you the keys " — that we may throw the doors open wide for our fellows into the joy and splendor of life. We may go forth when once the energy of His purpose has become potent in our hearts, binding and loosing in the moral influence we can exert. And that company of people, young and old, men and women, in this land and in all lands, we call the Church of Christ Jesus. What a noble privilege for a young man to build a portion of his life into an institution like that ! Take for example this church which we all know — there are any number of other churches in the land which would serve equally well to illustrate my point, but here the facts are right at hand. It has the ear of the community, — what it says counts. It is known far and wide for its noble music — people come for miles to listen and go away blessed. It has standing all over this land as a center of intelligent, systematic religious instruction, through its graded Sunday School and its employment of a trained man to give his whole time to superintending that [ 144] $te c^utcl) work. It is a beehive from which workers go out into the charitable and philanthropic work of the community, — you cannot name a charity in this city, except those directly under the care of the Roman Catholic Church, where the members of this congregation are not serving. It is a center of joyous fellow- ship — in all the fifty years of its history it has never had a quarrel and the friendships formed here among its members are among the sweetest experiences of their lives. It has a political influence, and when the five hun- dred men who are members of this congrega- tion set their influence strongly in support of some measure of civic righteousness or bet- terment, the city feels it. It is a powerful institution, as everyone knows, set down here at the center of this community of more than a quarter of a million of people. And how did it all come about? This church did not drop down out of the skies in the night. Some wholesale house in the East did not load it on a freight train and ship it out here. It came because a company of young [ 145 ] Ctye gowng jHan'js affairs men and young women, older men and older women have for fifty years been putting in their time and their strength, their money and their service, their devotion and their love to make the First Congregational Church of Oakland one of the factors which would count for the higher life of the city, the state and the nation. Indeed, its influence has gone out into all the earth, its money and its members to the ends of the world. We have at this hour those who were once and those who are now upon its roll of membership, working in Alaska, in Japan, in China, in India and in all the islands of the Sea, carrying on the everlasting battle be- tween the higher and the lower, helping to put the crown of victory where it belongs. How glorious to be one of that group around the Master of men, the Great Head of the Church, and to build one's life into an institu- tion whose influence is so wholesome and far- reaching ! I have knocked around a good deal in the forty -five years I have been privileged to live. [146] $i$ County I have attended various institutions of learn- ing and I have a drawer full of diplomas at home. I have received some expressions of the esteem and confidence of my fellowmen, which are inexpressibly precious to me. But the highest honor I have ever received or ever can receive is the privilege of being known as a Christian. The name of my Master Christ — it is the name above every name, and I am permitted to wear it in being known as a " Christian." When some man stands beside the open casket to speak a few words of appreciation for me as I have spoken them for so many hundreds of peo- ple in my ministry, if that man can say " He was a Christian," I ask nothing better. And being a Christian, a servant and follower of Jesus Christ, I want the fact to be known, I want to be enrolled somewhere as a member of some branch of the church of Christ. I would be ashamed to slink off in the dark and try to be a Christian all by myself, never confessing my allegiance openly by member- ship in the church He came to build. [147] C^e goung jEan'ss affair How strange and abnormal such an attitude would be! I have listened reverently to the service of the Mass in Catholic St. Peters at Rome, I have enjoyed the superb music of the men's chorus in the Cathedral of the As- sumption in the Kremlin at Moscow, and I have heard a choir of Indian boys sing Greg- orian chants in a Russian church on the west coast of Alaska! I have witnessed the mid- night service on Good Friday at the Cathe- dral of the Greek Church in Athens, and I have heard the call to prayer from the min- aret and have seen devout Moslems prostrate in worship in the Mosque of St. Sophia in Constantinople. I have studied the stolid faces of the Chinese in their Joss House yon- der and I have seen the tear-stained faces of devout Jews who were pouring out their hearts in prayer at the Jewish Wailing Place in Jerusalem. And although in every case the mode of worship and the language were entirely unlike my own, I felt a sense of kinship with them all in their yearning for the sense of fellowship with the Divine. [ 148 ] i^te €$mtt) How incomplete and abnormal I should feel if I had no part whatever in that hunger of the soulj or if I had nowhere declared and recorded my attachment to the great Head of my church! Let me say then these two things to the young men — first, you need the church. It is the inner principle of each man's life which counts much more than the passing phases of his environment. You cannot raise grapes from thorns, nor figs from thistles, even though you plant them in black loam ten feet deep, well-watered, and with a southern exposure. It cannot be done — the inner prin- ciple of the thorns and the thistles is wrong ; it cannot be made to issue in a fruitage of grapes and figs. It is the good tree which brings forth good fruit on all the fields of human effort. It is the heart made right through the gospel which the church preaches, it is the heart made right by Him who is the great head of the church, which makes the whole life right. Here is the Sermon on the Mount, the [149] C^e goiwg pian'g affair Magna Charta of spiritual privilege, as Ly- man Abbott puts it, in a nutshell. The secret of happiness is character — Blessed, that is to say happy, are those who are gentle and merciful, sympathetic and aspiring, peaceable and pure. The secret of character is a certain spirit within — Seek first the King- dom of God which is within you ; make the tree good and the fruit will be good. This right spirit within comes by knowing the Father — Pray, and when you pray say " Fa- ther in heaven, thy kingdom come ; thy will be done here as it is done there. Lead us and deliver us from evil." The secret of hap- piness is character ; the secret of character is a certain spirit within and that spirit is gained by knowing the Father whom Jesus Christ revealed. There you have it all in a nutshell. Your surroundings with all the forces they hold have a certain influence, but it is second- ary. You have all seen this — two boats sail- ing in exactly opposite directions with the same wind. The environment was the same [150] i^fsj e^uwl) for both, but one was going this way and the other that. It all depends on the set of the sails and the purpose of the man at the helm. Let the Master of all the ships which sail the high seas of moral effort show you how to rig your boat and set your sails and then under His direction hold the rudder true and you will sail strongly and securely in the right direction, no matter what your environ- ment may be! " One ship turns east, and another west With the self-same winds that blow; 'Tis the set of the sails, and not the gales, Which tell us the way to go. " Like the winds of the sea are the waves of fate, As we voyage along through life; 'Tis the set of the soul which decides the goal, And not the calm or the strife." I have lived long enough to know the devil when I see him. I have seen him going about seeking what he might devour here in this town as he is doing in all towns — and finding it. He has taken many a young fellow from the High School yonder and thrown him [151] C&e gowns jman'js affaft# down in uncleanness and dishonor — the young fellow was too weak to stand up. He has met many a young man in business life and pulled him aside into dishonesty and deceit, — the young man's will went lame just at the wrong time. He has taken the capacity of many a young man for the higher, finer things in his home life, social life, religious life, and squeezed it all out of him, — the man could not seem to resist the encroachment of the lower upon the higher. Let me say to you right here that not a man of them all needed to go down in moral de- feat. He — the same One who said " On this I build " — is able to keep anything committed to Him, honesty, integrity, aspiration for the best! In His fellowship all the nobler inter- ests of your life are entirely safe. You can find Him, know Him, and grow to be like Him if you will, through the worship, the fellow- ship and the service of the church He came to build. You need it ! If you will honestly feel the pulse of your moral life and take the tern- [152] ^fe C&urd) perature of your enthusiasm for righteous- ness you will know that you need it just as you know that you need food. The young man who sleeps until nine-thirty Sunday morning, then stuffs his mind full of a bulky Sunday paper, crammed with matter hastily written, meant to be hastily read, and still more hastily forgotten, not a line of it above the common-place and most of it fathoms below ; then eats a big dinner at one or two o'clock; then spends the afternoon in out- door sports or social diversion ; then devotes the evening to cards or light chit-chat with nothing of spiritual aspiration in it, — the young man who thus allows his Sundays to slip through his fingers with nothing delib- erately chosen and wisely adjusted to make him more reverent, more aspiring, more un- selfish, more resolute, is not developing the moral fiber he needs. He may or may not become openly immoral in the years ahead, but at best he is so much dead weight to be carried along by the more aspiring elements of the community. [153] C^e goims jwan'js affair Take the words of Lecky, the historian, who is as far from being a narrow ecclesiastic as any man you can name — " What institution is there on earth," he said, " which is doing as much to furnish ideals and motives for the individual life by its moral appeal; to guide and purify the emotions through its well- appointed worship ; to promote those habits of thought and desire which rise above the things of earth; to bestow comfort in old age, in sorrow, in disappointment; to keep alive a sense of that higher and further world to which we go, as is the Christian Church." You need all that — claim it in full measure, genuinely and steadily by openly sharing in and identifying yourself with its wholesome life! Take the voluntary testimony of three manly men, — Stanley, the intrepid explorer ; Bis- marck, the resolute statesman ; Stevenson, the splendid writer; none of them by his calling professionally pledged to sound the praises of religion. Hear Stanley — " Lost in the African jungle, [ 154 ] i^te Cljmxl) constrained at the darkest hour to humbly confess myself helpless without God's help, I vowed a vow in the forest wilds that I would confess His aid before men. I besought Him to give me back my people. Nine hours later we were exulting with a rapturous joy. I am utterly unable to attribute our salvation to any other cause than a gracious Pro- vidence." Hear Bismarck — "If I were no longer a Christian I would not serve the King another hour. If I did not put my trust in God, I should certainly place none in earthly mas- ters. If I did not believe in a Divine Provi- dence which has ordained this German nation to be something good and great, I would give up my trade as a statesman. Deprive me of this faith and you deprive me of my father- land." Hear Stevenson — " Of that great change which decided all this part of my life, turn- ing me from one whose business it was to shirk into one whose business it was to strive and persevere, it seems to me as though it [155] C^e goung jHan'js affair had all been done by some one else. I came about like a well-handled ship. There stood at the helm that Unknown Steersman, whom we call God." These manly men of thought, of action, of high purpose, needed that higher something. You need it. Every man needs it. The other thing I want to say is — the church needs you. The color of life with you is red — may it be for years to come ! We want that shade here. The church whose prevail- ing color is blue, deep navy blue perhaps, is doomed, — it has already lost its power of appeal to the young, and the end of its use- fulness is only a matter of time. " Religion is not a funeral announcement." There are religious leaders who seem to be always saying — " Let us cry." They have gotten the wrong phrase and the wrong mood. When you begin to talk about faith and God, do not turn the corners of your mouth down. Face all these matters as naturally, as joy- ously, as genuinely, as you would face any other interest in life. [156] ^fg C^urc^ This is the time for you to be a Christian and to be putting in the best service of your life. The impulses of the heart are warmer, stronger and readier now than they will be twenty years hence. A man who postpones becoming a Christian until he has one foot in the grave, usually postpones it until they are both there. Do it now ! " On this I will build " — and the corner stone of His con- fidence was consecrated youth ! Here is a word of authority and of ex- perience; it comes from an older man, but it rings true. " I beseech you, men " — brethren, he says, but it is all the same, — " I beseech you men by the mercies of God that you present your bodies a living," — not decrepit, nor diseased, nor half dead, but a " living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God for this is your reasonable service." And so it is ! You would feel almost ashamed to go to your Maker offering Him the core of your life, all the best parts of it eaten away by the lapse of unconsecrated years. Bring it with the fullness of its promise and strength upon [157] C^e goung jftan'g affaftjs it, saying " Here am I, use me to make the world a better place for all hands." - You say that you are not good enough to join the church. If you mean by that, you are openly or secretly doing what you know is wrong and that you intend to keep on, you are dead right. You are not good enough — we do not want you in our membership. No church does ! If on the contrary you mean that you are not as good as you intend to be sometime, that you are striving to conquer temptation, to see your duty steadily and whole, and do it, that you intend to grow at last into that finer, higher manhood you have in your mind's eye, then you are good enough. The church reaches out a long, strong arm to welcome you. On this firm and manly purpose He will build individual character and the better world that is to be. There is Some One waiting for the response which it lies within you to make at once if you will. My college mate, living now in New York, tells me this story. He knew a man who [158] ^te c^utcty in his boyhood grew tired of home and ran away. He followed the sea and for ten years went before the mast, becoming coarse, hard and brutal. Never once in all that time did he write a letter home. He supposed they would give him up as dead. Finally, homesickness caught him and he resolved to return to his native land. He sailed into the great harbor, and then took a skiff and rowed across to the little inlet where the old home had stood. He wondered if they were all dead. He was ashamed to be seen in the daytime, and waited for nightfall. He then rowed toward the fa- miliar landing, but he saw a light and some one moving on the shore. He did not want to meet strangers, so he pulled out into the bay again. He came back at ten, but the light was still there. He rowed off and waited until eleven, and then came back, but the light was still there and some one was trimming it. He drew near to the shore, and behold it was his father, gray-bearded, weary-eyed, heavy-hearted, who that night and every night for the ten years had placed [159] C^e goung jttan'js Slffaitjs a lantern to guide and welcome his returning son, for whom he had ever watched and prayed. God is like that ! He is a Father and no child is ever lost from the thought of His infinite mind, from the gracious purposes of His lov- ing heart ! He waits for the return of every soul coming up to Him in consecration that He may build each life into His gracious plan to make this world a splendid section of His everlasting kingdom ! UNIVERSITY ) [160] UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY THIS EOOK IS-3H7E ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW 1 v-% » DEC 3 1917 MAR 24 1925 • • # > ftt>" DEC&1 'mi 30m-6, , 14 YB 22464 #T/*7( 186721 ■ dm