/ 1,
 
 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND.
 
 
 t 

 
 BEYOND THE '
 
 THE ' V 
 
 YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND 
 
 CONTAINING 
 
 ADMONITIONS FOR THE ERRING; COUNSELLOR THE TEMPTED. 
 
 ENCOURAGEMENT TOR THE DESPONDING; 
 
 HOPE TOR THE FALLEN. 
 
 BY DANIEL C. EDDY. 
 
 I have written unto you young men, because ye are strong. John. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 DAYTON AND WENTWORTH, 
 
 86 WASHINGTON STREET. 
 
 1854.
 
 x " 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1854, by 
 
 DAYTON AND -WENTWORTH, 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts. 
 
 ANBOVEE: 
 
 J. . FLAGG AND W. H. WARD-WELL, 
 
 Stereotypers and Printers.
 
 EEV. GEOKGE B. CHEEVER, D.D., 
 
 WHOSE LABORS HAVE BEEN UNCEASING TO DISSEMINATE 
 
 PURITAN PRINCIPLES 
 
 t 
 
 AMONG 
 
 THE YOUNG MEN OF OUR LAND, 
 
 Ss tjjfs toorfc most respectfulls fnscrI6rtJ, 
 
 BY 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 2051239
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 THIS volume is given to the public, by the advice 
 of some of the author's most judicious friends, who 
 cherish the hope that it may be the means of shield- 
 ing the young from crime and leading them to the 
 practice of virtue and the pursuit of holiness. 
 
 The lectures were originally delivered to a large 
 congregation of young men, and it has been thought 
 best, that the direct, personal appeal of the pulpit 
 should be retained, and such alterations only, made, 
 as would adapt them to general circulation. 
 
 The object of the book is, to impress upon the minds 
 of young men, such lessons of virtue as will render 
 them useful and successful in life, and by presenting 
 the old Puritan view of sinful pleasures, lead the 
 reader to cultivate the old Puritan integrity. 
 
 While innocent amusements have been encouraged, 
 dangerous amusements have been condemned, and
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 the mind directed to healthy, reasonable sources of 
 recreation, which have been furnished so amply by 
 nature and by God amusements which embrace 
 utility with recreation, and pleasure with profit. 
 
 An effort has been made to blend instruction with 
 exhortation encouragement with warning, and by 
 holding up, side by side, the woes of vice and the re- 
 wards of virtue, lead the young to hate the one, and 
 love the other. 
 
 The earnest wish, and fervent prayer of the author 
 is, that the work may do good, and prove a source 
 of profit to the young men into whose hands it may 
 chance to fall.
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 THE ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 
 
 Wealth, birth, intellect, do not constitute manliness An effort 
 for the promotion of virtue An interest in the elevation of 
 the race Submission to the demands of God. 13 
 
 LECTURE II. 
 YOUTH; ITS ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 
 
 Formation of character Napoleon Doddridge Baxter The 
 mistakes of youth The ardor of youth Youth is a period 
 of great results Alexander Cortes Bacon Newton 
 Pitt Calvin Melancthon Pope Dwight Adams, . 35 
 
 LECTURE III. 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 
 
 Industry Dignity of labor Uses of labor Frugality Small 
 expenses Temperance Illustrations Honesty Worth of 
 character The rewards of honesty, 57 
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 Need of recreation Causes of the failure to secure amusement - 
 Utility must be combined with pleasure Useful reading 
 Music Traveling Literary lectures Social visiting So- 
 cial gatherings Paintings, and other works of art Public 
 and private worship, 81
 
 10 CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE V. 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 The theatre Dancing Gambling Social drinking Objec- 
 tions to them They abuse time Destroy health Lead 
 to prodigality They are heart-corrupting They are soul- 
 destroying, . . . - 104 
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 
 
 They are fluctuating and uncertain Louis XVI. Marie An- 
 toinette Napoleon Louis Philippe Pius IX. They fail 
 to secure happiness Rich and poor men They lead to 
 crime if unreasonably loved They are as brief as life Sal- 
 aam Phuip, 128 
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 A system of prodigality It excites, intoxicates, and maddens the 
 brain It is the highway to idleness It is a system of false- 
 hood Of theft It nullifies the marriage relation Produces 
 confusion in families Instances of its effects Leads to 
 intemperance Destroys kind and tender feelings Corrupts 
 society Illustrations, .- 152 
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 Produces poverty Ruins the constitution Destroys domestic 
 felicity Produces idiocy and madness Excludes from hea- 
 ven Cases to illustrate A plea to young men, .... 175
 
 CONTENTS. 11 
 
 LECTURE IX. 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 
 
 The probability and certainty of it The confessions >f asso- 
 ciates The power of memory The upbraidings of con- 
 science The providence of God The bed of death Every 
 sin seen by God The coming judgment Illustrations of 
 these truths Concluding appeal, 200 
 
 LECTURE X. 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 
 
 In all life's duties Duties to ourselves To kindred and friends 
 To fellow-men To government To God A guide in 
 cases of danger From error From crime From sin 
 From misery Good and great men have loved the Bible 
 It has claims as a book of history and poetry It is a divine 
 revelation Death-bed scenes of believers and unbelievers 
 Julian Thomas Paine Sir Francis Newport Polycarp 
 Sir "Walter Scott President Edwards Conclusion, . . 219
 
 THE 
 
 YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 LECTURE I. 
 
 THE ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 
 SHOW THYSELF A MAN. 1 Kings 2 : 2. 
 
 THIS was a part of the royal David's dying charge 
 to Solomon his son. The monarch minstrel \vas 
 about to be gathered to his fathers, the door of the 
 sepulchre was open for him, and his grave clothes 
 were ready. The crown he had already placed upon 
 the head of his youngest son, and as he stood with 
 one foot in the grave, and one upon the crumbling 
 shores of time, he enjoined with all a father's solici- 
 tude, the performance of those duties and the obser- 
 vance of those rules, which were well calculated to 
 render his government perpetual, and his name illus- 
 trious. He exhorted him, not to show himself a
 
 14 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 warrior merely not a statesman merely not a 
 monarch merely, but a MAN possessing the gener- 
 ous impulses of a man, and displaying a manly nature 
 in all his intercourse with men. So Solomon under- 
 stood him, and his government became the admiration 
 of the world, his fame spread through all nations, 
 and the proudest monarchs of the earth came to be- 
 hold his glory, and the magnificence of his kingdom. 
 While others reigned as kings, and ruled as tyrants, 
 he governed as a man, having common sympathies 
 with those above whom he had been elevated by birth 
 and blood. 
 
 In our times, there are various and contradictory 
 opinions cherished, in regard to what constitutes a 
 manly course. It is not every one that wears a hu- 
 man form that can claim to be a man, in the full sense 
 of that term, though he may prove his connection with 
 the human race. Many live and move among us 
 who are destitute of the chief elements of a manly 
 character. They suppose themselves men indeed 
 they regard their own course as honorable and worthy 
 of imitation. The -gambler has his code of honor; 
 the duellist has his code of honor ; the soldier red in 
 blood has his code of honor. Napoleon was an Hon- 
 orable man in his way, and the world ascribed to him 
 many great and noble qualities. He fought well, and 
 conquered well. His banner waved in triumph over 
 many a bloody field ; carnage, and famine, and
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 15 
 
 death attended his steps, and like the genius of evil 
 he stalked abroad. He was, doubtless, a splendid 
 general and a brilliant emperor ; but the child who 
 wandered over the field after his most triumphant 
 charge, and wet with water the lips of the dying sol- 
 dier there, was far more exalted in the scale of 
 being, than was the plumed and epauletted chief- 
 tain. 
 
 Nelson was a skilful officer, and died as the world 
 says, " in all his glory." His banner was his shroud ; 
 the roar of cannon was his dirge, and the shout of 
 victory was his requiem. In the history of naval 
 heroes, his name stands foremost, and they who love 
 the navy, have learned to honor him. But the poor 
 sailor, who a few months since in yonder distant city, 
 braved the fire, and at the risk of his own life saved 
 a mother's only child, gained a truer glory than ever 
 shone around the victories of the distinguished admiral. 
 
 How false how unjust the estimate which the 
 world places upon the actions of men. He who dies 
 upon the battle field who rushes to carnage and to 
 strife whose hands are dripping with human gore, 
 is a man of honor. Parliaments and senates return 
 him thanks, and whole nations unite in erecting a 
 monument over the spot where sleeps his corpse. 
 But he whose task it is, to dry up the stream of blood, 
 to mitigate the anguish of earth, to lift man up, 
 and make him what God designed him to be, dies
 
 16 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 without a tongue to speak his eulogy, or a monument 
 to mark his fall. That only is truly honorable which 
 does good to the body or the soul of man Avhich contri- 
 butes to human happiness, or promotes the glory of God. 
 He shows himself a man, and he only, who sacrifices 
 his own interests that he may benefit others who 
 lives unknown to fame that he may bind up some 
 broken heart who lays his own honor and happiness, 
 and even life itself, upon the altar of a common hu- 
 manity. 
 
 My reader, would you show yourself a man, go not 
 to yonder tented field, where death hovers, and the 
 vulture feasts himself upon human victims ! Go not 
 where men are carving monuments of marble to per- 
 petuate names which will not live in one grateful 
 memory ! Go not to the dwellings of the rich ! Go 
 not to the palaces of kings ! Go not to the halls of 
 merriment and pleasure ! Go to the widow and re- 
 lieve her woe : Go to the orphan and speak words 
 of comfort : Go to the lost and save him : Go to 
 the fallen and raise him up : Go to the wanderer 
 and bring him back to virtue : Go to the sinner and 
 whisper in his ears words of salvation and eternal life. 
 
 The true object of life has scarcely begun to be un- 
 derstood. In past ages men have been attracted by 
 the glitter and show of conquest, and worldly pre- 
 dominance. They have pursued the phantom, while 
 the real and the substantial have been sacrificed.
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 17 
 
 They have aimed at the accomplishment of objects, 
 which have resulted hi no good to the world. They 
 have built up systems of monstrous wrong. They 
 have strengthened the dominion of human cruelty and 
 labored more to crush the race than to lift it up. 
 SELF has been the common centre, and around it the 
 universe has been made to revolve like systems around 
 their suns. What, then, are the elements of true 
 manliness ? 
 
 Wealth is not one. In a multitude of cases the 
 possessor of the largest fortune, and the widest terri- 
 tory, has been found to have views and feelings not 
 at all in proportion to the magnitude of his fortune. 
 There is a contingency about wealth which has nothing 
 to do with moral or intellectual character. It seems 
 to be rained upon the human family by a capricious 
 goddess, who distributes her favors according to rules 
 known only to herself. At one time a monarch is 
 her favorite, and his throne she studs with jewels, and 
 fills his crown with richest diamonds. At his feet she 
 , spreads out broad fields well cultivated vineyards 
 beautiful temples and shining towers, and as his 
 admiring eye gazes over the scene, she whispers in 
 his ear, " These are thine ! " At another time she 
 fixes her eye upon a beggar boy, as he asks for food 
 from house to house, repulsed everywhere. His hand 
 she takes, and leads him up, as if by magic through 
 the various grades of society until she establishes him 
 2
 
 18 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 in a palace, and fills his coffers with the shining gold. 
 Fair cheeked young men have sought to win her 
 smile, but sought in vain, while she has turned from 
 them to hestow her gifts upon some unsightly being, 
 on whom God's curse seems to have fallen. The in- 
 telligent the virtuous the brave the wise, 
 have knelt at her altar, and breathed their supplica- 
 tions, but she has spurned them away and beckoned 
 with friendly hand, to sordid ignorance and vice. 
 Hence we find that wealth gives us no clue to charac- 
 ter furnishes us with no criterion by which we may 
 measure the soul, and judge of the dimensions of the 
 man himself. 
 
 Birth and blood are not elements of true manliness. 
 Royal veins are often found to flow with plebeian 
 streams, and crime and duplicity as often disgrace the 
 palace of the monarch, as the hovel of the slave. 
 Csesar was a monarch. Blood of which after ages 
 loved to boast, flowed through his princely temples.- 
 A crown was on his brow the imperial crown. At 
 the foot of his throne proud nations nestled, and o'er 
 all the earth his banner waved ; but was Csesar a 
 man? had he a manly character? was his bosom 
 thrilled by manly emotions? No. Nero's heart 
 swelled with the blood of emperors. Rome acknowl- 
 edged him as her sovereign ; but was he a man ? No. 
 Nero and Caesar were both monarchs, but they were 
 not men in the noblest sense. No living link con-
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 19 
 
 nected them with the great heart of humanity. They 
 were on earth they ate and drank and slept like 
 other men they wore the human form, but aside 
 from this, they moved like demons through the earth, 
 smiting its flowers and withering its verdure. When 
 they descended from the living to the dead, a mighty 
 incubus was removed from the crushed form of hu- 
 manity, and upon their graves she stood and uttered 
 thanksgiving. On the other hand, we have seen beg- 
 gars and slaves in whose veins not a single drop of 
 princely blood was flowing, come forth from their low 
 abodes to startle the world with the brilliancy of their 
 lives, wake up the race to angelic deeds and pro- 
 duce a wonderful change throughout all the ranks of 
 'men, and all grades of human society. Such was 
 Luther. He was no prince. He bore no tokens of 
 royalty. He came clad in no habiliments of state 
 and majesty. From a cloistered cell he came a 
 shaven monk. In his hand no sceptre on his head 
 no crown. But he had a human heart within him, 
 and it gushed out for human woe. Such was Wilber- 
 force and Howard and Carey and a host of others, who- 
 have stood for right, and breasted the world's dark 
 tide for the good of men. 
 
 Intellect does not make the man. I admit the power 
 of intellect. I acknowledge its superiority over wealth, 
 physical power, and brute force ; but a mere in- 
 tellectualist is not a man. True, intellect is one of
 
 20 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 the elements which enter into the composition of man, 
 as we usually apply that term; but in the better 
 sense in which I use the word, the possession of in- 
 tellect only, gives proof that one is fitted to be a man, 
 and the me of that intellect shows to what extent he 
 is a man. Enter any department of literature and 
 science, and you will find men of vast power and 
 might. Among the poets, you behold Byron standing 
 in the first rank. The grasp of thought the clear 
 conception the elevated diction the elegant lan- 
 guage, are seen at a single glance. As an intellec- 
 tualist, he stands almost beyond the power of criticism, 
 and that is a bold man who dares hurl a shaft at the 
 literary merits of his productions. But what is the ten- 
 dency of the works of Byron ? Will his writings do good 
 or evil ? I hesitate not to say, as other men have said 
 before me, that they tend to corruption, that they 
 are calculated to sink the feelings of the reader, lower 
 the standard of his virtues, corrupt his taste and 
 deprave his heart. Among historians, stands con- 
 spicuously the name of Gibbon. And what was he ? 
 From every quarter of the globe, I hear the reply, 
 " He was one of the world's most distinguished wri- 
 ters." His " Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire," 
 will continue to be read with interest so long as the 
 world stands his name will be remembered as long 
 as time endures. But Gibbon was a sceptic as well 
 as a historian. His works are full of artful attacks up-
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 21 
 
 On the religion of the cross. Scepticism is interwoven 
 with all that he has written, and to the last age will 
 be handed down with his grand history, his attempts 
 to undermine the Bible, and overthrow the Christian 
 faith. While literature will point to him as one of its 
 most distinguished ornaments, Christianity will pro- 
 nounce the name of Edward Gibbon with tears of 
 pity. Poetry and history are not the only depart- 
 ments which furnish such instances. On every page 
 of the book of fame, are found the names of men en- 
 dowed by God with giant minds men of dazzling 
 intellect, who have used their powers for the perver^ 
 sion of truth and the destruction of the kingdom of 
 Christ. Look at Bulwer and Alexander Dumas! 
 what powers of mind ! what vast capacity for labor ! 
 what unwearied perseverance in catering to the pub- 
 'lic taste ; and all perverted all used to debase 
 man, and sink him to a level with the brutes. Tow- 
 ering intellect, when used for unholy purposes when 
 made a minister of vice, is a curse, not only to its 
 possessor but to all who come within the circle of 
 its fatal influence: and better would it be for the 
 world to be without these splendid intellects than to 
 have them devoted to the service of Satan. 
 
 In enforcing the exhortation of David to his son, 
 upon your minds my readers, I wish to present three 
 ways in which each one may show himself a man in 
 the highest meaning of that term, and which if obser-
 
 22 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 ved will promote happiness in this life and lead to 
 glory in the life to come. As I make these remarks, 
 I remember that I am a young man myself that a 
 mutual sympathy must exist between myself and the 
 younger portion of my congregation that we are 
 sailing over life together, and hence have common 
 interests, common hopes, and common dangers. I will 
 urge you then to show yourself a man, 
 
 I. BY A MANLY EFFORT FOR THE PROMOTION OF 
 
 VIRTUE. Society cannot exist without virtue. It is 
 impossible for a vicious and depraved community to 
 be prosperous and happy. God has otherwise or- 
 dained. He has made virtue the basis of happiness, 
 and vice the cause of sorrow. With communities, as 
 well as with individuals, the sentiment of Scripture 
 proves true, " The way of the transgressor is hard." 
 Hence, if we look back over the history of the past, 
 we find nations and communities prosperous and hap- 
 py, just in proportion to the public and private virtues 
 of the people. We find the ancient republics while 
 devoted to virtue, rising in opulence and increasing in 
 honor and happiness. We behold them increasing 
 their influence ; spreading their conquests, and ex- 
 tending their authority. But in process of time those 
 republics became corrupt ; the virtue of the peo- 
 ple died out, the temples were consecrated to crime, 
 and the altars stained with blood. As vice increased, 
 the bright dream of happiness vanished before its dark
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 9 
 
 and dreadful form, and one by one those nations, 
 once the admiration of the world, have fallen into ruin. 
 Where are they now ? Their blackened pillars 
 their crumbling temples their ruined honor, their 
 fallen greatness, alone remain as warning beacons to 
 ill coming time. The principle remains unchanged. 
 Virtue is now the basis of happiness and prosperity, 
 tnd the nation which discards it, will speedily sink in- 
 to ruin. France has been tampering with it for years, 
 and the result has been fearful. Revolution after 
 revolution has occurred one wave of blood after 
 another has rolled through the guilty streets of Paris, 
 and the people from one end of the land to the other, 
 have been clothed in mourning. In our own land, 
 in all our cities, a warfare between virtue and vice 
 is in continual progress. The discordant elements of 
 one, and the pure principles of the other, are at work, 
 striving for universal conquest. The gigantic form 
 of evil is stalking abroad, and sin of all grades is 
 fearfully prevalent. Look around, and you will be- 
 hold intemperance fondly cherished. You will see 
 the drunkard reeling and staggering to his fall. You 
 will see standing at the bar, all characters and con- 
 ditions in life, from the young man who seems 
 abashed amid the gay throng, and takes his first 
 glass with trembling and fear, to the aged drunkard 
 from whom all shame and contrition have fled away. 
 Go forth and you will see them reeling out to the
 
 24 THE YOUNG MAN'S FMEIO). 
 
 light of day, the son, the brother, the father, and 
 sometimes the wife and mother. Follow them to 
 their abodes, and you will behold their homes divested 
 of all that is attractive, and converted into places of 
 misery. Intemperance is not alone. By its side, 
 marching to this conquest over man, is immorality of 
 every sort, and depravity of every description. The 
 picture which Pollock drew of our world as it will 
 be at the consummation, is too fearfully true at the 
 present time : 
 
 " Satan raged loose, Sin had her will, and Death 
 Enough. Blood trod upon the heels of Blood ; 
 Revenge in desperate mood, at midnight met 
 Revenge. War brayed to War, Deceit deceived 
 Deceit. Lie cheated Lie, and Treachery, 
 Mined under Treachery ; and Perjury 
 Swore back on Perjury ; and Blasphemy 
 Arose with hideous Blasphemy, and curse 
 Loud answering curse ; and drunkard stumbling fell 
 O'er drunkard fallen ; and husband, husband met 
 Returning from each other's bed denied : 
 Thief s.tole from thief ; and robber on the way 
 Knocked robber down ; and Lewdness, Violence 
 And Hate met Lewdness, Violence, and Hate." 
 
 The mission of the young man in this age, is, to 
 meet these evils which have crept in upon society, 
 and with all his influence arrest if possib'e the tide of 
 sin which is sweeping over the world. Vice has its 
 known, open, avowed supporters. Those who are en- 
 gaged in vicious employments whose craft consists
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 25 
 
 in making men miserable, and preparing their souls 
 for perdition, are using all their endeavors to spread 
 corruption. In some cases the public press and the 
 pulpit, have so far forgotten the dignity connected with 
 them, as to become defenders of crime, and have given 
 their sanction to the progress of the fearful scourge. 
 Now I cherish the opinion, and in it I toink 
 you will concur, that the young men of our coun- 
 try have never taken that position in relation to 
 vice, which it is their sacred duty to occupy. Thus 
 far they have stood aloof, as a body, from the great 
 contest, and have left their grey-haired sires to fight 
 alone. They have felt that it did not belong to 
 them to enter the foremost rank, and stand out in 
 defence of the great principles of right. In this I 
 contend that young men have mistaken their true 
 position. There is .no class, to whom a louder call is 
 given by God and humanity, to enter the field as the 
 avowed defenders of virtue and truth. There is no 
 class of persons capable of accomplishing more, and 
 effecting the object with more ease and readiness than 
 are they. Should the young men of our cities in one 
 firm united band set their faces against vice of every 
 description, the effect would be instant and irresistible. 
 Half the dram-shops would be closed, half the gam- 
 bling-saloons would be deserted, crape would hang 
 upon the door of the theatre, and the grinding of the 
 music in the hall of revelry would become low. And
 
 26 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 I ask if such a prospect has nothing attractive to this 
 crowd of young men ? Is not the sight of reformed 
 regenerated drunkards redeemed gamblers, lib- 
 ertines, and Sabbath-breakers, one worthy of our care 
 and efforts ? Is there no music in the song of the 
 mother over her Deformed son ? Is there no charm 
 in the willing step of the prodigal, as he returns to 
 the home of his youth, and to the bosom of his sire ? 
 Is there no beauty to the form of Virtue as she stands 
 with her foot upon the neck of prostrate Vice ? 
 
 The question will arise in some minds, What can I 
 do ? Were I in the ministry, or did I stand at the head 
 of one of the learned professions, the attempt might 
 be successful. Let such a young man look at the 
 instances in which young men, and old men, have ac- 
 complished great results under the most discouraging 
 circumstances. Let him turn his eye to Luther as 
 from his cell he came, and hurled his shafts at Rome. 
 Let him behold Columbus as he chartered his ves- 
 sel, and hired his crew, and sailed forth, jeered and 
 scorned, to discover a new world. Let him contem- 
 plate the numberless cases of like character which 
 ado'rn the history of the world, and learn from them, 
 that a young man can do anything that is right. 
 
 II. BY A MANLY INTEREST IN THE ELEVATION OP 
 
 THE RACE. We sustain certain relations to the whole 
 human family. We are children of one common pa- 
 rent. . We are the heirs of one common inheritance.
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 27 
 
 Go to the wildest spot on earth, and find the blackest 
 character which exists within the limits of the race, 
 and you find in that dark character, a relative a 
 brother. Ethiopia's son as he lifts his hands to God 
 the wild Karen as he rushes from his dark jungle, 
 ready for blood the child of Erin, as he comes in 
 rags and poverty to our shores, are all our brethren. 
 We cannot divest ourselves of this relationship if we 
 would. God has formed it for us, and whether we 
 are willing to acknowledge the fact or not, the race 
 is one wide and indissoluble fraternity. The black 
 faced negro the hunted Indian and the proudest 
 child of civilization, are of one blood. Hence we find 
 that God has given us a natural sympathy one with 
 another. He has created us with a feeling of rela- 
 tionship, and given us a disposition to assist the fallen, 
 and relieve the wants of the needy. He has designed 
 that we should be mutual helpers and assistants, and 
 has placed us in a position of mutual dependence, so 
 .that our relations may ever be recognised. 
 
 It is when man is displaying himself for the good of 
 others that he seems most Godlike, and if there is 
 a time when he appears to have but little of the influ- 
 ence of depravity in his heart, it is, when ministering 
 like an angel of mercy to the wants and woes of life. 
 Now in the providence of God it has occurred, 
 that the young men of America are more favorably 
 situated, than are the young men of any other por-
 
 28 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 tion of the earth. Thanks to God and the Puri- 
 tans, we occupy a spot on which intelligence, mo- 
 rality, and religion have shed their mildest beams, 
 and exerted their most happy influences. Conse- 
 quently we can look abroad and behold everywhere 
 the objects of pity and commiseration. Ignorance, 
 slavery, heathenish degradation, arrest the attention 
 everywhere, and pathetic appeals from every quarter 
 are made to the young men of our own favored sec- 
 tion of the earth. Nor have we a right to deny these 
 claims and resist these appeals. The object for which 
 we live, is not to secure our own gratification, and min- 
 ister to our own increasing desires. The good of 
 others should be one of the most prominent objects 
 of our lives an object never to be forgotten. He 
 who has never felt his bosom thrill with pity at the 
 recital of scenes which are transpiring upon the 
 earth, he who has not gazed with feelings of deep 
 commiseration upon the millions who sit in dark- 
 ness and in the shadow of death, and who has never, 
 made an effort to send them the means of civiliza- 
 tion, and the religion of the cross, is a stranger to 
 the emotions which will crowd upon the mind of every 
 man, who understands his relations to his fellow-crea- 
 tures, and who is willing to acknowledge them. 
 
 Whatever may be our views of Christianity, whatever 
 may be our opinion of experimental piety, we cannot 
 but admit our obligation to send the Bible to all climes.
 
 ELEMENTS OP A MANLY COURSE. 29 
 
 Thus far the influence of Christianity upon the na- 
 tions of the earth has been "inconceivably great. It has 
 SAvept away system after system of philosophy, politics, 
 and religion. It has remodeled the whole framework 
 of human society upturned its very foundations, and 
 laid at 'the basis of all earthly intercourse, principles 
 new and hitherto unknown. Before Christianity, the 
 Jews had a ritual of blood, and the heathen a ritual 
 of darkness. Christ sealed up the fountain of one, 
 and the exploded dogmas of past ages gave place 
 to the sublime faith of the Son of God. And such 
 ever will be the influence of the gospel wherever it is 
 propagated. It will dissipate darkness dispel the 
 gloom of mind break the fetters of the slave, and 
 make virtuous and happy society. 
 
 Such being the nature of Christianity, it is the duty 
 of young men to send it to the heathen, whether they 
 have themselves embraced it, or not. Whatever may 
 be our opinion of its influence upon the soul of man, 
 all agree that it embraces the only system of morality 
 which can render the world happy, and the govern- 
 ments of the earth glorious. Consequently it is our 
 duty, to send to heathen nations the Bible, that 
 it may civilize and make them moral, and he who 
 casts his influence against the missionary enterprise, 
 casts it not only against the salvation of the souls of 
 the heathen, but against the progress of civilization, 
 and hence, is an enemy of his race, and forfeits his
 
 30 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 claim to the name of man. Our relations to others 
 are not understood as they ought to be. The mass 
 of young men seem to feel that they are under no 
 obligation to aid in the elevation of the race. But is 
 it so ? God and humanity give a negative reply. 
 The young have no right to rest from toil, until 
 want is driven from the borders of our own coun- 
 try, until virtue is respected, and vice hated, un- 
 til labor receives its due reward, until honest men 
 are respected whatever may be their pecuniary 
 circumstances, until general intelligence shall be 
 characteristic of the people. They have no right to 
 rest from toil, until every one of the three million 
 slaves who groan upon our southern soil are free ; 
 until war, and the spirit of war are eradicated from 
 the breast of man ; until bloodshed and cruel oppres- 
 sion are done away. They have no right to cease 
 from toil, until the thrones of tyrants are demolished ; 
 until aristocracies of blood, birth, and wealth are 
 buried in one common grave. They have no right to 
 rest until over all the earth the gospel has been 
 preached and Christianity embraced until 
 
 " The voice of singing, 
 
 Flows joyfully along : 
 And hill and valley ringing 
 
 With one triumphant song, 
 Proclaim the contest ended, 
 
 And Him who once was slain, 
 Again to earth descended 
 
 In righteousness to reign."
 
 ELEMENTS OP A MANLY COURSE. 81 
 
 III. BY A MANLY SUBMISSION TO THE GOVERN- 
 MENT OP GOD. There is a notion widely spread, that 
 religion is an unmanly thing, that embracing it, be- 
 trays a womanly weakness, that it is the product 
 of superstitious fear, or of a fanatical imagination. 
 Thousands who respect Christianity on account of its 
 triumphs, who admire the Bible on account of the 
 purity and sublimity of its doctrines, would lose the 
 right hand, rather than be suspected of being tinc- 
 tured with what are deemed the follies of Christians. 
 Especially young men, shrink from having it known, 
 that they have any desire to become savingly inter- 
 ested in the cross of Christ. On this rock thousands 
 have shipwrecked salvation and their souls. Con- 
 vinced of sin, of the need of a Saviour, they have 
 hushed the voice of the Spirit crushed the aspira- 
 tions of the better nature, lest the world should place 
 on them the brand of fanaticism ; and there are 
 some present who would become submissive to the 
 Divine will, and embrace humble piety, did they not 
 deem the act childish and unfashionable. But how 
 mistaken are such ! Pure religion instead of being 
 childish, unmanly and weak, is honorable in the 
 highest degree. God is our moral governor, and 
 submission is honorable. God is our father, and obe- 
 dience is honorable. God is our benefactor, and 
 gratitude is honorable. You have earthly parents 
 who have watched over your advancing years, who
 
 32 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 have protected you from childhood, and would shame 
 tinge your cheek were it told that you revered and 
 honored and obeyed those parents ? No : and should a 
 blush be seen, when God the Eternal Father is obeyed 
 and worshipped? Religion consists hi doing right, 
 and is doing right, manly or unmanly ? Religion is 
 gratitude to a kind friend and benevolent benefactor, 
 and is gratitude under such circumstances manly or 
 unmanly ? The angels are engaged night and day in 
 the service of God the highest intelligences of 
 Heaven, bow before the dazzling throne with cease- 
 less songs, and tell me, is such service manly or un- 
 manly, honorable or dishonorable ? Instead of be- 
 ing a dishonorable work, the service of God is the 
 highest and noblest which can engage the attention of 
 angels or men ; while sin is unmanly, weak, cow- 
 ardly, debasing, and devilish. Every man who is 
 converted and becomes a child of God has conferred 
 upon Him immortal glory, while every sinner who lives 
 on in sin is covering himself with everlasting shame 
 and disgrace. I am not alone in this view of the 
 subject. Some of the mightiest minds have been 
 found among those who have been believers in ex- 
 perimental piety, and who have loved to attest by 
 many works of love, their attachment to the reli- 
 gion of the cross. Men from all professions from 
 all parties and all countries from all ranks in life, 
 and degrees of mental culture, have been found,
 
 ELEMENTS OF A MANLY COURSE. 3S 
 
 were not ashamed of Christ, but who deemed his 
 religion manly and honorable. Sir Matthew Hale, 
 one of the most distinguished Judges which England 
 has ever had, was a Christian. Joseph Addison, one 
 of the most beautiful writers of Europe, and who has 
 added much to the literature of his native land, was 
 a Christian. Cowper, Pollok, Milton, and other 
 great poets of the world, were Christians. Fene- 
 lon, Mackintosh, Paley, Tillotson, Melancthon, were 
 Christians. Sir Isaac Newton, one of the greatest 
 philosophers who ever lived, and a host of others whose 
 names I have no time to mention, were Christians. 
 
 Of our own countrymen some of the most illustrious 
 have been among the professors of the faith of the 
 cross, deeming it no reproach. The great leader ot 
 our tribes, Washington, was not only a godly man, but 
 everywhere let it be known. The whole army, the offi- 
 cers and private members of the regiments, knew that 
 he was a man of humble piety and prayer. Several 
 of the framers of the declaration of independence were 
 disciples of Christ, known and avowed. Several of 
 our most able judges are men of like precious faith, 
 and though of different creeds and sects, unite in 
 their hearty attachment to vital godliness. The "old 
 man eloquent," whose form we laid away as it were 
 but yesterday, and whom the nation loveth to honor, 
 was a man of piety. Amid the arduous duties which 
 devolved upon him, he found time to commune with 
 3
 
 84 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 God, and perform those duties which some of our 
 young men deem so childish and frivolous, but which 
 the venerable ex-President loved to perform, even to 
 his dying moment. These cases I select from a mul- 
 titude of others which I only need time to produce, 
 as witnesses of the opinion, which these men of strong 
 minds and untarnished honor, have cherished in re- 
 gard to the Christian faith. 
 
 And if it was not dishonorable to them, will it be 
 so to us ? If they were called disciples, and the 
 charge brought no blush to the cheek, shall we be 
 ashamed of God our Father of Christ our Saviour ? 
 
 " Ashamed of Jesus, sooner far, 
 Let evening blush to own a star." 
 
 I have done. The time allotted for a single lec- 
 ture has already expired, and what effect has been 
 produced ? Have I aroused one manly feeling, 
 have I awakened one generous emotion, have I 
 kindled up in one mind a desire to do good, or 
 love God ? Let thy heart be strong, young man, for 
 high and holy deeds, and be determined to be some- 
 thing more than a slave, who toils by day, and lies 
 down to sleep at night, forgetful of his kin, his coun- 
 try, and his God. 
 
 " Count life by virtues these will last 
 When life's lame-footed race is o'erj 
 And these, when earthly joys are past, 
 Shall cheer us on a brighter shore."
 
 LECTURE II. 
 
 YOUTH; ITS ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 
 
 MEDITATE UPON THESE THINGS ; GIVE THYSELF WHOLLY TO 
 THEM ; THAT THY PROFITING MAY APPEAR TO ALL. 1 Timo- 
 thy 4: 15. 
 
 THIS was part of an address delivered to a young 
 man who was about to embark upon the sea of life, 
 without experience and exposed to all the temptations 
 by which the period of youth is surrounded. He had 
 chosen a high and sacred calling. He had entered 
 the Christian ministry, and had devoted himself to the 
 work of reforming his fellowmen. Though commis- 
 sioned by God and ordained by inspired men, he was 
 yet to a considerable extent, to be the framer of his 
 own course. His success as a man and as a minister, 
 depended in a certain sense, upon the plan which he 
 should pursue and the course of action which he should 
 adopt. To guide him through the period of his inex- 
 perience, the apostle Paul directed to him the two 
 epistles which bear his name. In these epistles cei>
 
 36 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 tain sentiments are advanced, and certain principles 
 of action prescribed, and the injunction is given, that 
 he should meditate upon them, give them his serious 
 consideration for the obvious reason, that his profit- 
 ing might appear in his intercourse with men. 
 
 Those of us who are young are starting upon the 
 voyage of life, more or less elated with hopes and 
 prospects of success. With us, the period of child- 
 hood has passed away, and with it, the period of de- 
 pendence upon parental oversight. Like a vessel 
 which has left its moorings in the harbor, and stretch- 
 ed its canvas for a returnless voyage, and floated 
 out upon the heaving bosom of the great ocean, so 
 each young man has left the home of his childhood, 
 the roof which sheltered him in infancy, and the 
 scenes which clustered around him there, and gone 
 forth to grapple with the stern realities of mature life. 
 He may have kind parents and prudent friends, but 
 they follow him not, and to a certain extent he is 
 alone upon the world's wide waste. This is felt by 
 every young person, as he goes forth into Hie to seek 
 his own fortune, and carve out his own destiny. 
 He enters his profession, locates himself in business, 
 and feels that the great world is before him. In 
 most cases high hopes are cherished. A fortune daz- 
 zles the eyes of the youthful aspirant, and he rushes 
 on to secure it, without one single thought of failure. 
 Most young men when they enter the active scenes
 
 YOUTH J ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 37 
 
 of life appear to have made provision for nothing but 
 complete and triumphant success. Whatever may 
 be the object of pursuit, they seem to have it in their 
 grasp, and in a multitude of cases meet nothing but 
 misfortune and disappointment. You have seen the 
 noble vessel leaving some one of our harbors on the 
 coast, on a beautiful morning in summer, with all 
 sails spread, with every banner and pennant flying, 
 with joy on every countenance and high hope beating 
 in every heart. You have watched her progress as 
 she walked through " the waters like a thing of life," 
 and faded from your view upon the distant ocean. 
 You have admired her majestic and imposing form, 
 and wished yourself upon her deck, about to traverse 
 with her, the fathomless deep. You have stood there 
 long after she has disappeared from view, and have 
 turned from the spot without dreaming that the noble 
 vessel would become a wreck ere midnight. But fol- 
 low her out to sea, and you will soon see dark clouds 
 rolling over the sun far away in the distance the 
 hoarse thunder will mutter the moaning sea will 
 present a fearful aspect, and utter from her sepulchral 
 lips ominous threatenings. Soon the storm will come. 
 Peal after peal of thunder flash after flash of light- 
 ning adds terror to the scene. The ship which you 
 saw a few hours before, moving so majestically from 
 the harbor will quiver upon the wave like the play- 
 thing of 4 a child. The tattered sails, the falling
 
 38 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 masts, the broken helm, the wave-washed deck all 
 present a frightful aspect. The billows swell high ; 
 like mountains they rise and fall with terrible fury 
 upon the sinking vessel. In their terror the mari- 
 ners pray to the God of the ocean and the stonn for 
 help. Lips long accustomed to blasphemy now utter 
 supplications for mercy. But deaf to all their cries 
 the storm rages on. One by one the unhappy men 
 are swept away. Their last prayer mingled perhaps 
 with the name of wife or child, rings out like a hollow 
 wail over the deep, and all is hushed. The ship her- 
 self, unwilling to yield, struggles on a moment longer, 
 and then with a terrible plunge descends to the bot- 
 tom of ocean, and not one single object is left to 
 mark the spot. 
 
 Such is the sad history of many of the most promis- 
 ing young men of our land. They commence life 
 under the most flattering circumstances, but ere they 
 Lave accomplished half the task, they are overtaken 
 by storms of moral and commercial embarrassment, 
 and are shipwrecked just where hope had painted the 
 brightest vision of success. With this fact before me, 
 I have concluded to present for your consideration 
 this evening a few themes for profitable meditation. 
 As the mariner starts upon his voyage, there are cer- 
 tain facts and principles which he must keep before 
 his mind. He must remember that storm is almost 
 inevitable, and must be prepared to guard against it.
 
 YOUTH J ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 39 
 
 If he allows it to overtake him while he has all sail 
 spread, and everj sheet of canvas out, he must ex- 
 pect shipwreck. He will perhaps be becalmed, and 
 against such an emergency must have a sufficient 
 supply of bread and water. He is liable to be over- 
 taken by piratical crafts, and hence must be ready 
 for a conflict with them. If he goes forth thoughtless 
 of all these considerations, his voyage will most cer- 
 tainly prove unsuccessful, his ship will founder in 
 mid ocean, and the morning wave Avill sweep back 
 to the city of his birth to tell his wife that she is a 
 widow. 
 
 There are certain facts which all young men should 
 remember as they commence the active duties of life. 
 Remembered and acted upon, they will prove like the 
 forethought of the mariner, and prevent the destruc- 
 tion of their enterprises. Forgotten, they will lead to 
 the most disastrous consequences, and a want of the 
 knowledge which these principles afford, will prove 
 a source of misfortune and disappointment. You 
 will allow me therefore to enumerate a few points on 
 which we may do well to meditate, that our profiting 
 may appear to all men. 
 
 I. YOUTH IS THE PERIOD WHEN THE CHARACTER 
 
 IS FORMED. This is universally true. I am not pre- 
 pared to admit that there is a single exception. All 
 past experience testifies that in youth the man is 
 moulded, and the bent given to his character. Even
 
 40 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 in those cases where the young man grows up vir- 
 tuous and respected, and at thirty or forty years of 
 age becomes corrupted and debased, we shall find if 
 we rigidly examine his early history, that in his youth- 
 ful days the foundation of a vicious character was 
 laid, but in consequence of the peculiar circumstances 
 under which he was placed, that character was not de- 
 veloped. This is the testimony of many who have died 
 upon the scaffold. They have stated that the basis of 
 their horrid crimes was laid perhaps in childhood, or 
 in youth, but being surrounded by virtuous friends, 
 the evil passions were restrained, but continued pent 
 up in the bosom like the fires of a volcano. When 
 years had rolled away, and there was less desire and 
 inducement to keep the favor of society, these passions 
 like the fires of heated Vesuvius, sent out their dread- 
 ful streams of moral destruction. On the other hand 
 you find many who in their younger days were vicious, 
 whose youth was stained with crime ; but who as 
 years rolled away reformed from vice and became 
 useful members of society. A careless observer of 
 human nature would suppose that reformation was 
 the result of the thought and reflection of years, 
 that as the mind became more mature, it became dis- 
 satisfied with the follies and crimes of youth. But in 
 a majority, and perhaps I may say in all these cases, 
 this is not the fact. Reformation instead of being 
 the result of the experience and observation and re-
 
 YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 41 
 
 flection of years, may be traced back to childhood, 
 to some isolated circumstance in youth, to the coun- 
 sel of some Sabbath-school teacher, to the prayer of 
 a dying father, to the exhortation written upon the 
 blank leaf of the Bible by a sainted mother, or to 
 something else which years of crime have been un- 
 able to efface from the memory. To illustrate this 
 point a few cases will suffice. The character of Na- 
 poleon Bonaparte was formed in youth. His weak 
 but ambitious friends taught him that he would at one 
 day be a great conqueror. To inspire him with the 
 same feelings, they formed mimic armies, and set him 
 at the head of them, gave him a love of conquest 
 and predominance, and thus laid the basis of his future 
 character. Had the same care and expense been 
 used to make of him a different being, the world 
 would never have been astonished by his deeds of 
 blood and crime. He might have been a Luther, a 
 Howard, a Wilberforce, but for this unfortunate direc- 
 tion of his youth. The plays of his childhood made 
 him the ambitious tyrant, and sent him like a scourge 
 across the continent of Europe. Hume was a scep- 
 tic. It is said that in his early years he was a de- 
 vout and conscientious believer in the word of God, 
 but while young was in some debating association 
 appointed to bring forward for sake of controversy, 
 the arguments of the infidel, x He consented. He 
 stidied long, brought his acute mind into contact
 
 42 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 with the sophistry of sceptics, and ere he was aware 
 of it, had embraced their notions. Like melted lava 
 his mind received sceptical impressions, and then con- 
 gealed, and his whole after life bore the deformed 
 and sightless image of infidelity. It is said of Vol- 
 taire, one of the most brilliant writers of his age, that 
 when five years old he committed to memory an in- 
 fidel poem, and was never able after that to undo its 
 pernicious influence upon his mind. He lived and 
 died a corrupter of the world, and thousands who 
 have been ruined by him will bewail his memory to 
 all eternity. 
 
 It is said of one of the regicides who condemned 
 to death the unfortunate Charles Stuart, king of 
 England, that in early life he was of immoral charac- 
 ter, but when about ten years of age he. was passing 
 a church in London, and stood at the door a-while to 
 listen. He heard distinctly only one sentence, " If 
 any man love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let him be 
 Anathema Maranatha." He passed on to the com- 
 mission of crime, but that fearful sentence followed 
 him everywhere. At the age of twenty, it had pro- 
 duced such an impression upon him that he deter- 
 mined to reform, and became a man of influence and 
 virtue. After the fall of Cromwell and the restoration 
 of the crown, he fled to another country, and there 
 when nearly eighty years of age, that single sentence 
 weighed upon his mind and induced him to become a
 
 YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 43 
 
 believer in Christ, as well as a man of virtue. This 
 same sentiment will be illustrated in the lives of all 
 of us. As young men we are forming characters and 
 habits which will affect our old age, and make us vir- 
 tuous or vicious, happy or miserable, in life's decline. 
 I think I hazard nothing in saying that but few char- 
 acters change materially after the age of twenty-five 
 or thirty. By that period habits become fixed, im- 
 pressions formed, and the future character of the man 
 made. Nor is there so wide a difference in the minds 
 of the young, as many seem to suppose. There are 
 not those towering distinctions at birth, which in after 
 years make some intellectual wonders, and assign 
 others to ignorance and degradation. Though a 
 natural difference of mind does undoubtedly exist, yet 
 I apprehend that early impressions, and the discipline 
 of youth, go further to make men intellectual giants 
 or pigmies, than any original endowment of mind. 
 The bearing of these remarks and illustrations upon 
 young men will be plainly seen. If character is 
 formed in youth, then it follows that we are moulding 
 our future lives, and by every act, writing out our 
 own history. If we form correct, virtuous, and man- 
 ly habits, they will follow us to our graves, they 
 will mark us through all our earthly course, and be 
 the ornaments which shall deck our declining years. 
 Look among the aged, and you will find various char- 
 acters ; the vicious and the virtuous, and if you search
 
 44 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 out the history of each, you will find that age corre- 
 sponds with youth. The miser was miserly when he 
 was young. The aged gambler commenced gambling 
 in some form when he was young. The drunkard 
 learned the vice in his youth. The hoary thief was 
 a dishonest boy. The sceptic drank in the poison of 
 his infidelity in early life. On the other hand, you 
 will find that the virtuous, laid the basis of that virtue 
 in years long since gone by. The lover of inspira- 
 tion learned it on his mother's knee, or around the 
 family altar. The respecter of God, learned it ere 
 this deceitful world had marked its images of sin and 
 woe upon the soul, as deeply as in mature years. 
 Ask Philip Doddridge where he obtained the elements 
 of his noble character ? and he will tell you the story 
 of his mother, teaching him to love God by sentences 
 written on the tiles which composed the hearthstone. 
 Ask Richard Baxter where he obtained his character ? 
 and he will tell you of the efforts made by his father 
 upon his youthful mind and heart. Go to a host of 
 others and ask the same question, and they will point 
 back through years of sin and sorrow to youth or 
 early manhood. Scripture, nature, history, are all 
 full of the same sentiment, and in their various 
 ways inculcate the same truth. They alike de- 
 clare that age is unbending as the forest oak, while 
 youth is as pliable as the tender sapling that 
 age is as insensible to new impressions as the har-
 
 YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 45 
 
 dened rock, while youth is as yielding as the undried 
 clay. 
 
 " A pebble on the streamlet scant, 
 
 Has turned the course of many a river ; 
 A dewdrop on the baby plant, 
 Has warped the giant oak forever." 
 
 Hence if we would form right characters ourselves, 
 or help others to form right characters, we must begin 
 before the middle of life. We must take the sapling 
 ere it becomes a gnarled and tangled oak ; we must 
 take the little rivulet ere it has become swollen to a 
 mighty river ; we must take the clay ere it has been 
 hardened into flinty rock, and rendered insensible to 
 impressions. 
 
 II. YOUTH IS A SEASON OF GREAT ARDOR, GREAT 
 
 FOLLY, AND GREAT MISTAKES. The ardor of youth 
 is proverbial. Scarcely a young man can be found 
 whose heart does not beat with high hopes, and 
 whose bosom does not thrill with strong emotions. 
 So short has been their acquaintance with the world, 
 that they have not learned how deceitful are its 
 pleasures, and how vain its pursuits. Hence they 
 are flattered by every prospect, and engage in the 
 various employments of life with the whole heart and 
 strength. Old men distrust the world, they have 
 been cheated by its hollow promises so many times, 
 that they have become cautious and prudent. Not 
 so with the young. If you will look over community
 
 46 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 you will find that those who are pushing into every 
 hazardous enterprise, who are concocting schemes for 
 reforming or deforming men, who embrace the wild 
 and extravagant theories which are abroad, are drawn 
 mostly from the young and inexperienced portion of 
 society. Old men love the past, and live in it. 
 Young men live in the future. Progress is their 
 watchword, and they move onward, whatever may be 
 before them. Our fathers respect venerable institu- 
 tions, and have no desire for change. Their sons look 
 with contempt upon the past, and regard nothing on 
 account of its antiquity. The old way of living is te- 
 dious and irksome, and men live faster, move faster, 
 think faster than in former times. Old men are 
 content with doing a reasonable business ; young men 
 need a California to make them rich in a single hour. 
 Our old men are willing to live in comfortable habi- 
 tations in the quiet village ; our young men talk of 
 revelling in the halls of the Montezumas. Our old 
 men are willing to study to be wise, and have made 
 life a college course ; our young men are ground out 
 through intellectual mills, into the hopper of which 
 the dunce and the prodigy go together. Our old 
 men are content to live at home and practise life's 
 stern duties ; our young men talk of travel. They 
 wish to stand on the Alps, or dig into the ruins of 
 Herculaneum and Pompeii. They must walk the 
 blood-stained streets of Paris traverse the lanes
 
 YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 47 
 
 and avenues of London, or mingle with the Italian 
 throng as they crowd the streets of Rome. Our old 
 men were willing to work for the bread they ate, and 
 the cup of milk which they drank when weary ; our 
 young men have made servants of iron, and fire, and 
 water, and converted them into curious combinations, 
 to perform labor once done by human hands. These 
 different changes have been effected by the restless 
 activity of the young. The earnestness of youth is 
 devoted to improvement, and the changes which we 
 see, are the results of that earnestness. Nor would 
 we have it otherwise. Improvement is the order of 
 life, progress the law of society, and God has wisely 
 placed old men and young men in the world together, 
 that the young might drag the car of reformation, 
 while the aged guide and control it. 
 
 But while the energy of young men suggests so 
 many improvements in society, it also leads to many 
 mistakes and follies. They who rush forward at 
 every call, heedless of consequences ; who stand in 
 front of every battle ; who are earnest for every new 
 theory, will be liable to meet with disaster and defeat. 
 The locomotive on the rail road, which has the hea- 
 viest press of steam, will perform the journey in the 
 shortest time, and will also be more liable to leap 
 from the track, and dash itself and the train which 
 follows it, into ruin. The liability to disaster is pro- 
 portionate to the pressure of steam. The mail-steamer
 
 48 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 in crossing the ocean will be likely to make a quicker 
 passage, if she builds her fires hotter, and crowds her 
 sails, and generates her steam more liberally; and 
 she will also be more likely to meet with accident, 
 and go to the bottom of the ocean. The danger is 
 commensurate with the extraordinary speed. Thus 
 is it, to some extent, with the energy of youth. 
 While confined to certain limits, and flowing in a 
 proper channel, it will secure the desirable result. 
 But the more haste we make to be rich, the more 
 eagerly we grasp for fame, the more zealous we are 
 in any cause, the more liable are we to overstep the 
 limits of prudence, and fall into fatal errors. 
 
 And thus has it been in all the history of the past. 
 The enthusiasm of youth has led many into sad mis- 
 takes, and these mistakes have ended in the complete 
 overthrow of the most brilliant schemes. How many 
 young men have commenced business with the lauda- 
 ble purpose of supporting themselves. Before them 
 the road to fortune was open, and they entered it. 
 One speculation after another presented itself, one 
 plan after another was adopted. Day by day, and 
 week by week, they ventured into deeper water, 
 and took upon themselves new obligations. Soon, 
 instead of finding themselves the possessors of a for- 
 tune, they were bankrupt, and perhaps with the loss 
 of money, came also the loss of credit and character. 
 The tide of Hie is dotted with the wrecks of character,
 
 YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 49 
 
 with the ruins of young men who started fair and with 
 high prospects of usefulness, but who have failed, sig- 
 nally and fearfully failed. And why have they fail- 
 ed ? Simply because they refused to profit by the 
 experience of those who have preceded them, and 
 have allowed the zeal of youth to trample upon reason, 
 and blind the judgment and the conscience. A ma- 
 jority of the failures which are made by our young 
 men might be avoided, would they heed the injunc- 
 tion of Paul, and meditate upon these things, which 
 so intimately concern their success in this life, and 
 their happiness beyond it. 'They who rush out into 
 life determined to pluck its flowers, must look and 
 see where they grow. If they bloom upon the border 
 of some dark precipice, they must tread cautiously, 
 lest they stumble in the attempt to secure the prize. 
 If some venomous serpent lies coiled up at the root, 
 they must be careful lest the hand which plucks the 
 flower should be bitten by the viper. 
 
 III. YOUTH IS A PERIOD OF GREAT EFFORTS AND 
 
 GREAT RESULTS. There has existed a notion in time 
 past, that age alone was capable of performing great 
 deeds, and accomplishing vast results. This notion 
 has become to a great extent, a common sentiment, 
 and we are apt to pass by young men, and deem them 
 unworthy of notice, because their heads are not cov- 
 ered with silver locks, and their limbs trembling on 
 the borders of the grave. I admit that age has the 
 4
 
 50 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 most experience, that old men are likely to act with 
 more prudence and caution, but I also contend that 
 youth may put forth efforts, and lead to great results. 
 The history of the world has proved, that the young 
 are better fitted for active or laborious service, than 
 are their fathers, and in every enterprise where 
 labor is required, we naturally look to young men. 
 Our hostile armies are composed, to a considerable 
 extent, of young men ; our most distinguished writers 
 and statesmen, commenced in early life ; our poets 
 and orators earned some of their freshest laurels 
 while in the morning of their days. 
 
 From a work* published a few years since, I 
 have gathered a few facts bearing upon this very 
 point facts which clearly illustrate my position, 
 and prove that youth is capable of great deeds, 
 and if properly improved will accomplish vast re- 
 sults. " It is said that one of the greatest mili- 
 tary men of the world, Alexander the Great, was less 
 than thirty-three years old when he subdued his ene- 
 mies in Greece, took possession of the neighboring" 
 countries, passed into Asia, conquered the whole of 
 Asia Minor, Syria, Egypt, and Persia, besides count- 
 less smaller kingdoms and a large part of India." 
 " Hannibal, who was the most formidable enemy 
 which Rome ever had, was made General at the age 
 of twenty-tivo. By the time he was twenty-eight, he 
 
 * Patton's Lectures to Young Men.
 
 YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 51 
 
 had driven the Romans from Spain and Gaul, had 
 crossed the Alps with an immense army, and by the 
 battle of Canae, had brought Rome itself into dan- 
 ger of capture." " Bonaparte, at the age twenty- 
 seven, was made General of the French armies ; after 
 which he subdued the whole of Italy, passed into 
 Egypt, was made First Consul at the age of thirty, 
 and having like Hannibal crossed the Alps, and by 
 the decisive victory of Marengo again subdued Italy, 
 was eventually crowned Emperor, having gained 
 some of his most brilliant victories by the time he 
 had reached the age of thirty-five" " Hernando 
 Cortes, the conqueror of Mexico, pushed his way up 
 from obscurity, became commander of the expedition 
 to Mexico, and by consummate boldness and unmiti- 
 gated villany, became at the age of thirty-five, the mas- 
 ter of the Aztec Empire." " If we turn to literary 
 men, poets, orators and philosophers, we find Burke 
 laying the foundation of his reputation for eloquence as 
 a writer and speaker, as early as his twenty-seventh 
 year, and composing his celebrated treatise on the* 
 4 Sublime and Beautiful,' in his twenty-eighth year." 
 " Lord Bacon at the age of sixteen had conceived the 
 design of overthrowing the philosophy of Aristotle, 
 and at that early period in his life had openly ex- 
 pressed and promulgated his opposing views." " Sir 
 Isaac Newton had made his most important discov- 
 eries in astronomy and mathematics, before he had
 
 52 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 reached the age of thirty" " The younger Pitt be- 
 came Chancellor of the Exchequer, and Prime Minis- 
 ter of England, at the early age of twenty-four, and 
 for many years conducted with consummate ability 
 the complicated affairs of that great nation." " Lord 
 Byron published many of his choicest poems at the age 
 of thirty" " Burns gave to the public some of his 
 most exquisite compositions at the age of twenty-seven" 
 "Among theologians we are struck with the fact 
 that Calvin composed his celebrated ' Institutes,' 
 when he was but twenty-five years of age." " Philip 
 Melancthon is a yet more wonderful instance of what 
 can be accomplished hi the early period of life. At 
 twelve years of age he went to the University of 
 Heidelberg, and at fourteen was made Bachelor of 
 Arts. At seventeen, he was made Doctor of Philoso- 
 phy. At twenty-one, he was appointed Professor of 
 Ancient Languages in the University of Wittemberg. 
 While but a lad, he distinguished himself, and won 
 the praise of Germany and the world." " Alexander 
 Pope, before he was twenty-five, had written many 
 of his best poems." " Dr. D wight commenced the 
 ' Conquest of Canaan,' when he was but sixteen, and 
 completed it at the age of twenty-three" To these 
 cases might be added a multitude of others, and 
 among them, many drawn from the history of our 
 own country. Eight of the men who signed the 
 declaration of independence, and gave to the world
 
 YOUTH J ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 53 
 
 that noble document, were under tidrty-five years of 
 age. Lafayette was but eighteen when he stood 
 shoulder to shoulder with some of the most distin- 
 guished officers in the American army, and at the 
 age of twenty-four, led on the National Guards of 
 France. Washington was but a lad when he was en- 
 trusted with important offices, and some of his most 
 distinguished battles were fought in his early youth. 
 John Quincy Adams, at the age of fourteen, was pri- 
 vate secretary to the Minister Plenipotentiary to the 
 Court of St. Petersburgh. From this time, until he 
 was chosen president, he continued to receive the 
 most brilliant offices which the government could be- 
 stow, and furnishes us with a remarkable instance of 
 what may be accomplished in one's early days. He 
 performed more in boyhood, than most men accom- 
 plish in a long life of active service. 
 
 I refer to these cases as illustrations of the truth 
 of the statement, that youth is capable of great re- 
 sults, and is distinguished for great deeds as well as for 
 great follies and crimes. They also prove, that all 
 which has been done to reform the world or enlighten 
 it, or make it wiser, has not been done by age alone, 
 but that youth has had its share in the improvement 
 and adornment of mankind. If we should take from 
 the world what has been done by young men, litera- 
 ture and science would be divested of half their 
 beauty, and history would lose half the brilliant
 
 54 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 deeds which it now records with triumph and satis- 
 faction. 
 
 Thoughts like these, my readers, we should re- 
 member. If there is one sin to which youth is 
 more addicted than another, if there is one fault to 
 which young men are exposed more than another, it 
 is the fault, the sin of thoughtlessness. There is a 
 haste, a precipitancy in the movements of the young, 
 which not unfrequently involves in ruin the fairest 
 prospect of success in life. The apostle Paul who 
 had seen more of life than his young disciple, Timo- 
 thy, knew this, and urged him to meditate upon things 
 pure and excellent, that his profiting might appear to 
 all. The same caution is needed by the young men 
 of the present age, and unless they heed it, they will 
 place in jeopardy the dearest interests which they 
 cherish. But few of the sins of youth are committed 
 deliberately. The young man does not often delibe- 
 rately and thoughtfully strike the blow which commits 
 him to the dungeon, or brings him to the scaffold 
 he does not deliberately enter into schemes to ruin 
 others, by involving them in pecuniary or moral em- 
 barrassment he does not often wilfully and mali- 
 ciously enter any path of crime. But ere he is aware, 
 he is drawn step by step to such a distance from the 
 path of virtue, that the passage of return is hedged 
 up, the way back rendered impassable, and he goes 
 on to end maliciously and designingly what he com-
 
 YOUTH ; ADVANTAGES AND DISADVANTAGES. 55 
 
 menced thoughtlessly. Did men think more, how 
 many a hand would be held back from crime ; how 
 many lips would be sealed from perjury ; how many 
 feet would turn away from the gates of hell. You 
 have seen the sun as he arose in the east, and 
 dissipated the clouds which impeded his way you 
 have seen that sun struggle through the mists of 
 morning, a bright and shining luminary, and rise 
 higher and higher in his heavenly progress, until 
 the eye of the eagle was unable to withstand his 
 gaze ; you have seen that sun high in the heavens, 
 scattering his beams upon man below, and riding in 
 his cloudy chariot crowned with fire, the acknow- 
 ledged king of day. You h#ve also seen a comet, 
 a strange erratic thing, seemingly controlled by no 
 law, subject to no government, flaming through hea- 
 ven, dazzling the world for awhile, and then pass- 
 ing away in darkness. Like that sun we may com- 
 mence in the morning of life, our steady onward pro- 
 gress, governed by laws of nature and of God ; we 
 may progress in life, each year excelling the past 
 in virtue, in happiness, in holiness, in usefulness. 
 Like that sun moving on in an undeviating course, 
 obeying with all precision the principles which control 
 its progress, we may move on governed by laws as 
 certain, and better understood ; until our path shall 
 be like the path of the just, which shineth brighter 
 and brighter unto the perfect day. Or we may be 

 
 56 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 like the comet, dashing from its course, and setting 
 worlds on fire. Like the comet we may obscure our- 
 selves as soon, and as suddenly. By turning from 
 the path of virtue and true honor, by leaving the 
 great principles which God has laid down in his word, 
 we shall be nothing but wrecked and ruined spirits. 
 Meditate on these things, while life is young and 
 buoyant, and thy sun shines fair. Be virtuous, be 
 good, be circumspect, and no weapon formed against 
 tihee shall prosper. 
 
 , " Virtue may be assailed, but never hurt ; 
 Surprised by unjust force, but not enthrall'd ; 
 And even that which mischief meant most harm, 
 Shall in the happy trial prove most glory."
 
 LECTURE III. 
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 
 So BUN THAT YE MAY OBTAIN. 1 Corinthians 9 : 24. 
 
 REFERENCE is had in this passage, and in others 
 of a similar character, which are scattered through 
 the writings of the apostle Paul, to the foot races of 
 the ancients. In the Olympic games, foot-racing 
 seems to have been one of the most honorable and 
 one of the most common. Men in high rank, and 
 men in low rank, were accustomed in these exercises 
 to contend for the -prize, and he who was successful 
 was wreathed with laurels, and received the praises, 
 and almost the homage of the people. As the com- 
 petitors ran in the race-course, they Avere cheered by 
 the assembled multitude, and the victor deemed him- 
 self raised to the highest pinnacle of earthly fame. 
 
 Paul in the text is exhorting the Corinthian Chris- 
 tians to run the spiritual race, and earnestly contend 
 for the spiritual prize. He urges them not to run for
 
 58 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 a corruptible crown, a fading laurel, or a transitory 
 breath of applause ; but for an incorruptible crown, 
 an unfading laurel, an imperishable glory. He 
 wishes them to imitate the conduct of the ambitious 
 racers, as they press on to secure the reward set be- 
 fore them, and be as zealous to run the Christian 
 race, as were they to receive a cluster of evergreens, 
 and the shouts of an excited multitude. 
 
 Human life may well be compared to a race-course, 
 in which a countless number of persons are contend- 
 ing for the prize. The aged have nearly finished 
 the young have just commenced. The prize set 
 before them is success, which most persons suppose 
 to be a competent support, an unsullied reputation, 
 and a useful life. And indeed if we confine our- 
 selves to the present life, and leave out the future, 
 we find that these are the chief elements of pros- 
 perity, which it is the duty as well as the right of the 
 young man to secure if possible. But in order to se- 
 cure prosperity and success in this life, care must be 
 taken and effort put forth. It is not every aspirant 
 for wealth, fame, and pleasure, that will secure them. 
 It is a race in which hundreds and thousands are dis- 
 appointed at every trial, and where one succeeds, and 
 receives the wreath of victory, many others tire and 
 faint ere half the course is finished. In the Olympic 
 games, the racers were required to make extensive 
 preparation for the trial. For ten whole months they
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 59 
 
 were accustomed to exercise themselves, and were 
 trained by different masters, to all those exercises 
 which were calculated to give strength and vigor to 
 the body. Their diet was strictly regulated, and 
 during a part of the time, their only food consisted of 
 dried figs, nuts, and other similar fruits. When they 
 entered the race, they were required to lay aside all 
 unnecessary clothing, and divest themselves of every- 
 thing which could impede their progress, or prevent 
 their running with the greatest speed. 
 
 For the race of life, preparation will be needed. 
 The young man who enters it, and is bent on secur- 
 ing success, will find that one path, and one alone, 
 leads to it ; that all the other avenues and lanes of 
 life, though apparently parallel, are leading in dif- 
 ferent directions, and are filled with pitfalls and dan- 
 gers ; that there is but one star which guides the 
 traveller through it, while all other lights are as de- 
 ceptive as the ignis fatuus, which plays with phos- 
 phoric beauty over marshy grounds, upon which if the 
 foot of man shall tread he will be placed in fearful 
 jeopardy. He will find that life is no rail road, along 
 which we are borne without toil or effort, on cushioned 
 seats or downy pillows ; that life's great employment 
 does not consist in plucking flowers and listening to 
 sweet music. He will find life to be a race, a contest 
 not of whistling locomotives, not of white-winged 
 ships, but of toiling men, on foot, shoulder to shoulder,
 
 60 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 struggling for the prize. With this view of human 
 life, I proceed to enumerate SOME OF THE SOURCES 
 OF SUCCESS. 
 
 I. INDUSTRY. It is a law of God, an ordinance of 
 Heaven, that man shall work. It is a fixed princi- 
 ple, a certain law, that in the sweat of the brow shall 
 the bread be eaten. There is no law which specifies 
 a man's employment, or assigns him to this or that 
 post of toil. There is no arrangement of God by 
 which one is to cultivate the earth, and another to 
 manufacture our garments and construct our dwell- 
 ings. He has in no way, other than by the arrange- 
 ment of his providence, made one man the producer, 
 and another the distributor of his bounty. But he 
 has made labor and toil essential to success in life, 
 and has sent his decree to all nations, that he who 
 worketh not, shall not eat. I am aware that some- 
 tunes a fortune is made in a single day ; that by some 
 turn of the wheel, a poor man is made unexpectedly 
 rich, and raised at once from poverty to affluence. 
 But such fortunes are exceptions to the ordinary 
 course of events, and as a general thing, become a 
 curse to those who inherit them, or to their children. 
 The ideas which men cherish of becoming rich in a 
 moment, of making a fortune by a ticket in the lot- 
 tery, by a throw of dice, by a commercial speculation, 
 are ah 1 chimerical. God has ordained it otherwise, 
 and though by these methods, money in immense
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 61 
 
 sums, is sometimes obtained, yet it goes as easily as 
 it comes. The only path to wealth in which the young 
 man can travel with safety is industry. The only 
 way in which he can build up a fortune worth possess- 
 ing, is by toil the toil of years. Deluded and de- 
 ceived by phantom appearances, the farmer is often 
 induced to leave his plough, the mechanic his work- 
 shop, the tradesman his store, and the student his 
 books, to embark in some wild chase for wealth, some 
 erratic scheme for gaining the smiles of the god of gold, 
 instead of being content to plod along in the old way, 
 adding, month by month, to the increasing fund de- 
 posited in the bank or invested in stocks. Some bril- 
 liant chance is presented, by which if things work 
 well, the hundred dollars which is on deposit, may be 
 turned into a thousand. Filled with the hope of being 
 rich at once, the little sum which has been earned by 
 hard service, is invested, the note of the speculator is 
 taken, and the dupe begins to dream of high houses, 
 broad lands, swift horses all his own. Months roll 
 on, and he finds that the scheme was all the de- 
 ception of a villain, and the little treasure which was 
 placed in his hands is gone. If you will glance at 
 the lives of those men who have amassed large for- 
 tunes, who have been eminently successful in commer- 
 cial projects, you will find them to be men of correct 
 business habits, and of unwonted effort. You will 
 find that they have arisen early in the morning, that
 
 62 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 they have worked hard during the day, and remained 
 up late at night. Their minds and hands have been 
 busy, their whole attention has been given to the ob- 
 ject of their pursuit, and they have been successful. 
 Had they hi early years substituted hazard and specu- 
 lation for hard work, they would have failed of secur- 
 ing the object of their desires. Had they been de- 
 luded by some gold-mine monomania, and left their 
 families and homes, and gone forth across mountains 
 and rivers and plains, amid wild beasts and fiercer 
 men, to dig for the shining ore, they would have dug 
 into their own graves. Had they listened to the 
 voice of every wild-brained moneymaker, their for- 
 tune would have consisted only of the notes of bank- 
 rupt speculators. Had they tried the gaming-table, 
 they might also have tried the penitentiary and the 
 prison. 
 
 I know there is a charm about this speedy way of 
 making money, but it should be resisted. The young 
 man goes into the bowling-alley, the gaming-saloon, 
 and sits down there to see the sport. In a moment one 
 of the players becomes the winner, and scrapes the shin- 
 ing gold at once into his pocket. " How easily this is 
 done," exclaims the novice. " Here I have toiled 
 hard to earn ten shillings during the day, and this 
 man has made ten dollars in a single hour." He feels 
 for his purse, and finds in it a little money which he 
 was reserving for his wife and child at home. He
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 63 
 
 sits down to play. He wins. Twice, thrice, he wins. 
 He runs away to the savings-bank, where he has laid 
 up a few hundred dollars. All the way he dreams 
 of gold a fortune. The gambling-room seems full 
 of money. How rich he will be to-morrow ! His 
 wife shall now live in splendor his child shall be 
 brought up in luxury. With one dollar he won ten, 
 and with his hundreds he may Avin thousands. Thus 
 speculating he returns to the gay saloon. The 
 sharpers see him come, and wink at one another. 
 They know that the earnings of years are in his 
 purse, and their code of honor requires its transfer to 
 their pockets. The foolish one sits down among them, 
 and the game commences. They urge him to drink. 
 He never used wine before, but it will sharpen his 
 wits now, and he drains the cup. The game excites 
 him. He wins and loses loses and wins. At mid- 
 night he thinks of returning to his home, but on 
 counting his money, he finds that on the whole, he 
 has been a loser. He has twenty or fifty dollars less 
 than when he commenced. He must win that back 
 again. Again they gather around the table closer 
 than before, and our hero is more mad than ever. 
 He has become reckless. He stakes his all, and 
 loses. The toil of years is gone. Excited, madden- 
 ed, infuriated, drunk, he rushes from the fatal spot, a 
 ruined man. With bloodshot eyes, and haggard 
 look, he returns to his family, and changes his home
 
 64 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 from paradise to perdition. His haste to be rich has 
 destroyed him. 
 
 Nor can a good reputation be earned in an hour. 
 Those men who have secured the respect and esteem 
 of the world, as philosophers, statesmen, and philan- 
 thropists, have not done it by one single act, or by 
 any short series of acts, but by patient and persever- 
 ing industry. They have added virtue to virtue, one 
 element of knowledge to another, and by degrees laid 
 the basis of a valuable character. And thus must it 
 be with the young men whom I address to-night. If 
 they would be successful in life, if they would acquire 
 property, secure the respect of mankind, and be use- 
 ful while they live, they must do it by the patient and 
 persevering industry of years. Instead then of de- 
 vising schemes for sudden aggrandizement, go to 
 work in your calling, whatever it may be, lose but 
 few half-days, and avoid all those military and civic 
 societies which are forever laying assessments. Be 
 punctual to all your appointments. Make it a prin- 
 ciple never to be left by the cars or the stage-coach, 
 never too late at the table, in the workshop, or in 
 the family. Fortunes and characters are sometimes 
 lost by a want of punctuality, and one of the most 
 disagreeable and unprofitable habits which we can 
 form, is, to be always late. A distinguished man in a 
 neighboring State, a man of wealth and influence, 
 was asked, how he secured so large a fortune in sc
 
 FOUR SOURCES OP SUCCESS IN LIFE. 65 
 
 few years ? Without giving a direct reply, lie said : 
 " I was never late at an appointment, or behind my 
 time, in my life." 
 
 Whatever your business may be, persevere in it. 
 Do not be a mechanic to-day, and a trader to-mor- 
 row a lawyer to-day, and a minister next week 
 a school-master now,, and a physician soon. "He 
 who has learned all trades is good at none," and he 
 who is driving from one employment to another, will 
 generally fail in all. The chimney-sweep with his 
 black face and sooty blanket, will become a -richer 
 man than one who stays in one branch of business 
 only until he can find another. 
 
 Remember, too, that industry is honorable, and 
 idleness disgraceful. The rich man, the possessor of 
 millions, who allows his wealth to purchase for him 
 exemption from toil, is a disgrace to his race. He 
 forfeits not only his claim to his fortune, but to his 
 character, and should be regarded as one of the 
 drones which society is compelled to drag along with 
 it. The notion which prevails extensively in Europe, 
 and in our southern States, and to some extent, in en- 
 lightened and beloved New England, that labor is 
 disgraceful, is a false notion, and should receive the 
 contempt of all men. The green-jacket of the mason, 
 or the carpenter, besmeared with lime, or covered 
 with dust, is as honorable as the broadcloth of 'the 
 merchant whose ships are in every port. The black- 
 5
 
 66 THE YOUNG MAN'S FBIENp. 
 
 smith's hammer is as honorable as the sheriff's staff. 
 The busy hum of labor, is as eloquent as the plea of 
 the laAvyer, or the charge of the judge. And so all 
 those men who have been truly great have regarded 
 it. Washington was not ashamed to acknowledge 
 himself a farmer, and when his services were re- 
 quired by his country, he went from his field to the 
 presidency, and when he had accomplished his mis- 
 sion, he retired to his toil again. A large majority 
 of the men who have been members of Congress, have 
 been hard-working, industrious farmers and mechanics, 
 who have been selected by the people, as best adapted 
 to aid in the councils of the nation. The best and 
 greatest men we have, are found to be those who re- 
 gard labor as an honor rather than a crime. An 
 amusing anecdote is related of Prof. Stuart, one of the 
 best scholars of the age, which illustrates his opinion 
 of that class of men who despise toil, and seek to 
 avoid it : "A student from one of the southern 
 States, hi the Theological Seminary at Andover, had 
 purchased some wood and was exceedingly embar- 
 rassed at being unable readily to obtain some one to 
 saw it for him. He went to Prof. Stuart, to inquire 
 what he should do in such an unfortunate predica- 
 ment. The learned professor replied, that he was out 
 of a job himself, and he would saw it for him." * 
 IE. FRUGALITY. If there is a contemptible man 
 
 * Arvine's Cyclopaedia.
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS EST LIFE. 67 
 
 on earth, one who seems to have lost sight of the 
 true design of life, one who has no idea of true en- 
 joyment, it is the avaricious misr. It is a sad sight 
 to see a human being, whose spirit will soon stand 
 before God, and whose body will erelong crumble 
 back to dust and ashes, heaping up gold, only that 
 he may hide it from every gaze but his own, that he 
 may count it over and over, and dream about it at 
 night, and gloat over it by day, and die. It is also 
 disgusting to see a man, who if he does not go to 
 such an extreme, seems desirous of keeping all he 
 gets, refusing the calls of benevolence, denying the 
 claims of nature, that he may retain what he by 
 honesty or dishonesty, may have secured. But if 
 avarice and covetousness are to be condemned, so 
 are extravagance and prodigality. There are many 
 young men in the country, who practise no economy 
 in their pecuniary transactions. While they have 
 money, it goes with a lavish hand. The present mo- 
 ment, they provide for, and leave the future to care 
 for itself. It matters not whether their income is 
 three hundred or three thousand dollars, they spend 
 it all, and until they come to the bottom of the purse, 
 they live high and fast. I think I may be allowed 
 to say that extravagance is one of the sins of youth. 
 In the desire which young men have to avoid a 
 mean, niggardly spirit, they are apt to lean to the 
 side of prodigality, and become spendthrifts. This is
 
 68 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 the reason why we find so few men who are in posses- 
 sion of any considerable amount of property. Every 
 desire must be gratified, every wish complied with, 
 and thus thousands are kept poor, who otherwise 
 would be in independent circumstances. Fortunes are 
 squandered every year by those who in after life will 
 look back with regret to the scenes of youth ; squander- 
 ed, too, to secure objects which are entirely worthless. 
 
 I will not, of course, specify the particulars in 
 which economy may be practised. They will readi- 
 ly present themselves to your own minds, and if 
 you will appeal to your past experience, short as 
 it may have been, you will find it confirming my 
 statement. True, the amount spent daily in the pur- 
 chase of useless things is small. When looked at by 
 itself, it seems an insignificant sum ; but multiply it 
 by the days in the year, and the number of years of 
 life, and it is magnified to a competency, which no 
 man would despise. 
 
 Beside the tendency of extravagance to poverty, 
 it is the basis of many habits equally pernicious 
 as itself. The prodigal knows not when to stop. 
 His own substance he wastes with riotous living, 
 the portion which he inherits from father or mother, 
 is scattered like the leaves before the blasts of 
 Autumn, and unless his heart is doubly guarded 
 against temptation, he will resort to fraud or for- 
 gery to maintain the position in society which his
 
 
 FOUR SOURCES OP SUCCESS IN LIFE. 69 
 
 extravagance has purchased for him. The income of 
 most young men is small. If they have many wants 
 to gratify, that income will be insufficient for them, 
 and some other source of revenue must be found. 
 Those little "six cent" desires which accumulate so 
 fast, are the ones which drive so many hundreds of 
 young men to the gaming-table, and induce them to 
 become worthless, idle, and dissipated. Extrava- 
 gance is the parent of many crimes, and has destroy- 
 ed fortunes, blasted characters, and been to our young 
 men the prolific source of evil and sorrow. The re- 
 cords of bankruptcy, the gaming-table, the cell of the 
 forger, the prison of the felon, are all eloquent upon 
 this subject, and utter their mournful lessons of wis- 
 dom and experience, 
 
 " Look round, the works of waste behold, 
 Estates dismember'd, mortgag'd, sold ! 
 Their owners now to jails confin'd, 
 Show equal poverty of mind." 
 
 III. TEMPERANCE. Intemperance has long been 
 a fearful scourge. Though checked and controlled 
 to some extent now, it is still making fearful ravages. 
 Years ago almost all men were in the habit of using 
 intoxicating liquors. Through whole communities but 
 few could be found, who had rigidly abstained from its 
 use. The farmer could not plough his field without 
 it. The mechanic could not hew his timber, or fashion 
 his iron, without it. The lawyer could not prepare
 
 70 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 his brief, the physician could not visit his patients 
 without it. The minister could not preach without it, 
 and doubtless many of the sermons of our old divines 
 were written and delivered under its influence. It 
 was used at the marriage festival, and hi the chamber 
 of mourning, in the halls of the living, and over the 
 graves of the dead. It was the companion of soli- 
 tude, and the friend of the crowded assembly; it 
 held dominion in the house of God, and amid scenes 
 of violence and disorder. But times have changed. 
 Intemperance, open, reeling intemperance, has become 
 disreputable and criminal, and we shrink from the ex- 
 ample of the tattered inebriate as from the pestilence. 
 But still intemperance in other forms, is almost as 
 prevalent as in the days of our fathers. The wine- 
 cup is circulated freely and fearlessly, and hundreds 
 of young men are ruined by it annually. Now suc- 
 cess in life is out of the question unless the wine-cup 
 and the maddening bowl are totally abjured, unless 
 rigid, consistent, manly temperance is made the rule of 
 life. Drink tendeth to poverty, and bankruptcy; rain, 
 rags and misery are as sure to follow a course of in- 
 temperance, as is light to follow the rising of the sun. 
 I knew a young man, who three years since, was vir- 
 tuous, loved, and respected. He had just established 
 himself in business, and was exceedingly prosperous. 
 He was often seen in the house of God, and around 
 him a little family was congregated. His connections
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 71 
 
 were respectable, and his prospects in life were quite 
 propitious. He had an intelligent and lovely com- 
 panion, whom he had taken from a home of wealth, 
 refinement, and happiness. He had everything to 
 make him comfortable, and lead him up to virtue and 
 to God. But he loved his wine, and deemed it an 
 innocent beverage. Hence he drank it, and became 
 drunken. Step by step he descended the drunkard's 
 pathway. Day by day he became more habituated 
 to the fearful vice. Soon all restraint was gone, 
 business was neglected, home deserted, family abused, 
 confidence and reputation gone, and the once pros- 
 perous and respectable young man has now become 
 an outcast and a vagabond. Month by month, I 
 have seen the cheek of the wife grow pale, and lines 
 of sorrow traced on her once happy countenance. 
 Week by week I have seen her come bending to 
 the sanctuary, to find solace here in the worship of 
 her God. Day by day has she toiled to earn money 
 and clothing to send to that husband who has desert- 
 ed her, and whom she follows like a ministering an- 
 gel. Three years have been sufficient to accomplish 
 the whole, to blast the fondest hopes, to crush the 
 highest aspiration, to shroud a family in ruin, to break 
 the heart of a wife, to bring disgrace upon the child, 
 to make the hair of the father grey with sorrow, (not 
 with age), and send the unhappy cause of all this, 
 along the streets, a howling, infuriated drunkard.
 
 72 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 
 
 " Ah ! drinking ! drinking ! bane of life, 
 Spring of tumult, source of strife, 
 Could we but half thy curses tell, 
 The world could wish thee safe in hell." 
 
 And yet with the fact before them, that intempe- 
 rance is destructive to life, health, property, busi- 
 ness, to all things good, many of our young men are 
 bringing by the use of wine, ruin upon themselves 
 and their families. Though the Golgotha of drunken- 
 ness is before their eyes, though all the past is point- 
 ing to the long army of inebriates who have perished 
 in the march of time, yet they drain the cup, swallow 
 " the beverage of hell," as though it was the water 
 of life. 
 
 IV. HONESTY. This I conceive to be the crown- 
 ing excellence of youth. An honest young man has 
 in his bosom a treasure of more real value than 
 the wealth of nations. Should I be asked, what 
 would most contribute to a man's success, in any vo- 
 cation whatever, I would reply : HONESTY. Should 
 I be asked what would most certainly prevent suc- 
 cess, I would reply : DISHONESTY. Now it occurs, 
 that to dishonest practices, the young men of our land 
 are particularly exposed. While females are pro- 
 tected from the temptations to this sin, while from the 
 peculiarity of their situation in society, they are to a 
 considerable extent secure, young men are surround- 
 ed with inducements and temptations. Just com-
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 73 
 
 mencing life, they wish to do well, and not unfre- 
 quently imagine, that to succeed they must make 
 money fast, and get rich quick, and hence to secure 
 this, will embark in many a scheme of doubtful char- 
 acter. The expenses of poor young men are gene- 
 rally more than equal to their income, and if they are 
 bent on living extravagantly, they will be tempted to 
 enter into many a course of folly and crime to obtain 
 the necessary funds. But however expert the dis- 
 honest man may be, however long he may go on un- 
 interrupted in his villany, however successful he may 
 be at the onset, he will assuredly fail. The forger 
 cannot long continue that sin without detection ; the 
 counterfeiter will assuredly be taken in his oNvn snare ; 
 the gambler will come to poverty, and the thief 
 will bring himself to the prison and the dungeon. 
 There is no safety for a young man in the early pe- 
 riod of life, without strict and unbending integrity in 
 word and deed. Complete failure will sooner or later, 
 come upon every man who does not subscribe to the 
 principles of rectitude. I know that dishonesty is 
 prevalent. I know that it exists everywhere, and to 
 a fearful extent enters into all the affairs of life. As 
 Shakspeare says : 
 
 " To be honest, as this world goes, 
 Is to be one picked out of ten thousand." 
 
 Not seldom is the clerk taught to inform the cus- 
 tomer, that certain goods cost such a sum, that they
 
 74 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 are durable and fashionable, when he knows it to be 
 false. Not seldom is the ignorance of the purchaser 
 made the cause of a " good trade," and apprentices 
 are led to look upon such a fraud as a harmless trans- 
 action. In these and a thousand other ways are the 
 principles of honesty shamefully violated and out- 
 raged, and the basis is laid for a long and aggravated 
 course of crime and duplicity. But the old maxim, 
 " honesty is the best policy," will be found to be true 
 in all the transactions of life. What though a man 
 does make a momentary advance in his business by 
 dishonesty ? What though at the end of each year 
 he is a hundred dollars richer than he would have 
 been but for his fraud ? What though he may have 
 enlarged his store and beautified his residence, and 
 secured the smiles of the wealthy ? What though he 
 is enabled to ride in his carriage, and dress in gilt 
 and gold ? Will not the vengeance of God follow 
 him ? Will not his ill-gotten gains rust and canker 
 his heart ? Will not commercial distress or some 
 other element of destruction sweep away his property, 
 taking the well-earned with the ill-gotten ? 
 
 I knew a young man who started in life with high 
 hopes and prospects. He had a little property to 
 commence with;, and was determined that it should 
 increase at all hazard. Honestly or dishonestly, he 
 was bound to be rich. His motto was, " All is right 
 in trade," and well did he carry it out. He thought
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. T5 
 
 it was the duty of his customers to find out de- 
 fects in the goods which they purchased of him ; 
 they were the ones to discover what was bad in the 
 bargain. He supposed he was clear when he had 
 made the sale, and felt compelled by no principle of 
 morality to help his customers make good bargains. 
 Thus it continued awhile. He would openly boast 
 of having made this sum and that sum, from this and 
 that person. He seemed to be growing rich, his 
 place of business was crowded. \His fair stories and 
 smooth looks, drew a crowd of visitors, and for awhile 
 he made money very rapidly. But the curse God's 
 curse was on him and his business. When he least 
 expected it, a great failure in another city occurred, 
 the intelligence of which came upon him like a clap 
 of thunder in a cloudless day. Other failures follow- 
 ed, and he began to reap the reward of his dishonesty. 
 When he began to sink, reports of his dishonesty, 
 which until then had been hushed, spread like wild- 
 fire, and soon he found it impossible to continue 
 his business. Those who had money and goods were 
 afraid of him. Confidence in his character was gone, 
 and he was obliged to relinquish business entirely, 
 move from the fine house in which he lived, and 
 become a clerk, and was looked upon with suspicion 
 even at that. I have known other men in business, 
 who have met with disasters and failures, and have 
 stood unaffected by them, superior to their crushing
 
 T6 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 influence, from the simple fact that they were honest 
 men, and could look community in the face with a 
 consciousness that though they were unfortunate, 
 they were not guilty. Thompson in his lectures to 
 young men, states the following fact, which to my 
 own mind, is of considerable interest. " The late 
 president of the United States Bank, once dismissed 
 a private clerk, because the latter refused to write for 
 him on the Sabbath. The young man, with a mother 
 dependent on his exertions, was thus thrown out of 
 employment, by what some would call an over-nice 
 scruple of conscience. But a few days after, when 
 the President was requested to nominate a cashier for 
 another bank, he recommended this very individual, 
 mentioning this incident as a sufficient testimony to 
 his trustworthiness. ' You can trust him,' said he, 
 'for he would not work for me on the' Sabbath.'" 
 Awhile since, a young man was dismissed from his 
 place, because he would not become party to a false- 
 hood, by which refusal the firm failed to secure seve- 
 ral hundred dollars which did not belong to them, but 
 which they expected to obtain. For the crime of 
 honesty and truth the young man was dismissed from 
 his position. A few days afterwards hearing of a va- 
 cant situation, he applied for it. The merchant who 
 wished for an accountant, asked if he could refer him 
 to any individual with whom he was known, and who 
 would recommend him as an upright young man.
 
 FOUR SOURCES OF SUCCESS IN LIFE. 77 
 
 With conscious innocence, and firm in his uprightness, 
 he replied, " I have just been dismissed from Mr. 
 
 's, of whom you may inquire. He has tried 
 
 me, he has known me." When applied to, his former 
 employer gave a full and free recommendation, and 
 added, " He was too conscientious about little mat- 
 ters." The young man is now partner ha a large 
 firm in Boston, and is apparently becoming rich. 
 
 A multitude of cases might be added, illustrating 
 the value of honesty, and the great danger and shame 
 of falsehood and fraud. Business men will rehearse 
 them to you by scores, and prove that under any cir- 
 cumstances, " honesty is the best policy." And so 
 you, my young friends, will find it in all your deal- 
 ings with your fellow-men, and as you grow older in 
 life, the conviction will become stronger and deeper, 
 that a good reputation for honesty and manliness is 
 above all price. 
 
 " The purest treasure mortal lives afford, 
 Is spotless reputation ; that away, 
 Men are but gilded worms or painted clay." 
 
 Remember these things as you advance in life, my 
 young brethren, and as you grow older preserve your 
 integrity. Be above the little arts and tricks of 
 small men, and if you grow rich, let it be by honest 
 and patient industry. Build not up a fortune from 
 the labors of others, from the unpaid debts of credi-
 
 78 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 tors, from the uncertain games of chance, but from 
 manly effort which never goes unrewarded. Never 
 engage in any business unless you can be honest in 
 it ; if it will not give a fair living without fraud, leave 
 it, as you would the gate of death. If after all, you 
 are poor, if by exerting yourself nobly and manfully, 
 if by living honestly and uprightly you cannot secure 
 a competency, then submit to poverty, aye, to hard, 
 grinding poverty. Be willing, if it must be so, to 
 breast the cold tide of want and sorrow, see your 
 flesh waste day by day, and your blood beat more 
 heavily, than make yourself rich, at the expense of 
 honesty. 
 
 There are other sources of success in life, which 
 might be mentioned, but these four will suffice for the 
 present discourse. If a young man is industrious, 
 frugal, temperate, honest, he will also have many 
 other valuable traits of character. These never go 
 alone. They bring a countless host of virtues and 
 blessings in their train. Remember also that it is 
 not our whole object to become rich and happy here. 
 We are immortal. There is a life beyond this a 
 world to come. 
 
 " Oh ! what is life ? At best a brief delight, 
 A sun, scarce bright'ning ere it sinks in night ; 
 A flower, at morning fresh, at noon decayed ; 
 A still, swift river, gliding into shade." 
 
 We know that delight will soon be gone ; that sun
 
 FOUR SOURCES OP SUCCESS IN LIFE. 79 
 
 will set, perhaps in tears ; that flower will droop, 
 wither and decay ; that river will flow on, until no 
 human eye shall be able to trace its progress ; but 
 the life of the soul continues, and is to be affected for 
 weal or woe, for countless ages, by its narrow and 
 limited stay on earth. How terrible, then, is man's 
 mission ! how solemn his responsibilities ! how glo- 
 rious his destiny ! 
 
 " 'Tis God's all-animating voice 
 
 That calls thee from on high ; 
 'Tis his own hand presents the prize 
 
 To thine uplifted eye ; 
 That prize, with peerless glories bright, 
 
 Which shall new lustre boast. 
 When victors' wreaths and monarchs' gems 
 
 Shall blend in common dust."
 
 LECTURE IV. 
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 TO EVEET THING THERE IS A SEASON, AND A TIME TO EVERT 
 PURPOSE UNDER THE HEAVEN. EcclesiaSteS 3 : 1. 
 
 WITH pride and exultation the votary of pleasure 
 will often refer to the first few verses of the chapter, 
 from which my text is taken, and draw from them an 
 argument in favor of sin and folly. Is there not a 
 time to laugh and a time to dance ? Does not inspi- 
 ration tell us, that mirth and cheerfulness are allow- 
 able, and that the sports of the world are proper ? 
 Have we not the example of men in all ages ; not the 
 profane and sinful merely, but the best and noblest 
 of our race ? These and kindred questions are put 
 to us with triumph by the seekers of pleasure of all 
 kinds, who profess to be acquainted with the chapter 
 under consideration, if they are ignorant of all the 
 other sacred writings. They seem to have made this, 
 their study, quote it with freedom, and seem wonder-
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 81 
 
 fully impressed with the truth of Scripture, when they 
 can bring it to bear upon the pursuit of their worldly 
 and carnal amusements, and plead the example of 
 some of the wise and good men who have fallen inta 
 error. 
 
 But those who read with attention the works of 
 Solomon, could never come to any such conclusion. 
 Raised by God to the throne, he was surrounded 
 with everything to make him happy. His kingdom 
 was glorious, the fame of his administration spread 
 over the world, and wealth poured its streams lavishly 
 at his feet. Surrounded by life's brightest scenes, 
 he sought awhile his pleasure in them, he builded 
 houses, he planted vineyards, he obtained men-singers 
 and women-singers, he had instruments of music, and 
 in every possible way strove to satisfy the longings 
 of his nature for happiness. Labor, wealth, skill, 
 tune, were not 'spared, but all contributed to the 
 monarch's pleasure. Thus he lived awhile, until the 
 whole head was sick, and the whole heart faint until 
 he was convinced that all the objects of his earthly 
 pursuits had no abiding bh'ss, and he turned from 
 them, exclaiming, " Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." 
 
 Nor will the declaration of the wise man, that 
 there is " a tune to dance," extenuate any of the 
 sinful amusements of the present age. He no more 
 intended to justify that debasing and ruinous sys- 
 tem, which we have at present, than to justify mur- 
 6
 
 82 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 der when he said, there is " a time to kill." The 
 dancing of the ancients was a religious and healthy 
 recreation. It had no resemblance to what we call 
 dancing now. It was performed with pure and ele- 
 vated motives, and had no tendency to debase the 
 mind or pollute the heart. One writer, thinks that 
 " it always was a religious exercise ; that dancing for 
 .amusement was sacrilege ; that men who diverted it 
 from a sacred use were deemed infamous, and de- 
 clares, that there are no instances upon record in the 
 Bible of social dancing for amusement, except that of 
 the vain fellows, void of shame, alluded to in Mi- 
 cah; of the irreligious families described by Job, 
 which produced increased impiety and ended in de- 
 struction ; and of Herodias, which terminated in the 
 rash vow of Herod, and the death of John the Bap- 
 tist." All the cases, except these, were on occasions 
 of religious festivity. Dancing was merely a token 
 of joy and gratitude to God. It generally followed 
 great victories, and was attended with sacred songs, 
 and the sound of many musical instruments. As men 
 now clap their hands and shout when any gratifying 
 event has transpired, so the ancients sang and danced 
 over their victories. The two sexes never united in 
 it; men danced alone, and maidens danced alone. 
 They crowded not into pent-up halls, they were not 
 excited with wine, they were not impelled by passion, 
 they were not moved by lust. The green earth waa
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 83 
 
 their festive hall, the bright sun was their chandelier, 
 the golden flowers shed their fragrance, and nature's 
 own temple gave back the echo of their glad songs. 
 To compare the pure, chaste worship of the ancients, 
 with the brutish dancing of the present time, and jus- 
 tify one by the other, is to cast dishonor upon God, 
 and insult the memory of his worshippers. 
 
 The only object had in view by the monarch wri- 
 ter, seemed to be the promulgation of the sentiment, 
 that for all things there is an appointed time ; 
 that joy and sorrow, work and play, will come in 
 their order, and each should be attended to in its 
 proper place. He did not attempt to defend vice, or 
 offer a plea for the indiscriminate pursuit of pleasure. 
 All his writings abound with warnings and cautions, 
 and utter loudly their remonstrance against every 
 course of sin. 
 
 Without further introduction I will turn your at- 
 tention to INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS, OS the Subject 
 for consideration. I do not design to offer an 
 apology for any of the vain amusements and se- 
 ductions of the world, or lead you to look with less 
 disapprobation upon the vices by which we are sur- 
 rounded. Accursed they are, and accursed they 
 will remain. The press may plead for them, the pul- 
 pit may apologize for them, and the whole country 
 may be bent on their pursuit, but God's displeasure 
 will follow them, and their votaries. I simply wish
 
 84 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 to offer a few thoughts on amusements, and show that 
 the highest pleasures, are the pleasures of innocence, 
 and that sinful amusements fail to accomph'sh their 
 object. Hence I remark, 
 
 I. MEN NEED, AND WILL HAVE SOME KINDS OF 
 
 RECREATION. The body was not made for constant 
 toil, the mind -was not formed for constant study. 
 God has not ordained that life shall be spent in one 
 continued series of efforts to secure the things of this 
 world. He has fitted man for enjoyment, as well as 
 labor, and made him susceptible of pleasurable emo- 
 tions. He did not design him for a slave, to dig the 
 earth awhile and die ; to toil on until the hour of death 
 comes to conduct a shattered system back to dust 
 and ashes. On the other hand, he has given him a 
 physical system which like the harp, may be touched 
 to any tune. He has made the eye, the ear. the 
 mouth, all inlets of pleasure. He has so constituted 
 us, that we may be wound up to the highest degree 
 of pleasure, and receive through the medium of the 
 senses a flood of happiness. Besides this, he has ar- 
 ranged the outward world in such a manner, as to 
 give man the highest enjoyment. Had God designed 
 man for ceaseless labor, he would not have given him 
 such a body as he now possesses, he would have dark- 
 ened the eye, deadened the ear, and blunted all the 
 nicer sensibilities, and made the hand as hard as iron, 
 and the foot as insensible as brass. But formed for
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 85 
 
 enjoyment, we find men seeking it. After the labor 
 of the day is over, and the toil of life done, they turn 
 to every quarter to find some source of recreation, 
 some avenue of life which is fragrant with flowers and 
 which echoes with sweet music. Now this desire for 
 recreation instead of being quenched, should be con- 
 trolled and directed; instead of being totally dis- 
 couraged, it should be turned into pure and holy 
 channels, and made to result in the good of man, and 
 the glory of God. One great mistake made by the 
 Puritans, arose from a desire to suppress all amuse- 
 ments, to quench in man the desire for mirth and 
 recreation, to make youth as sedate and grave as age, 
 the child as sober and solemn as the sire. Hence 
 instead of making the /Sabbath a day of holy rest and 
 calm enjoyment, they made it a season of constraint 
 and fear. Children, instead of loving to have its sa- 
 cred hours arrive, and hailing them with gladness, 
 looked forward to the day as one of tedious, irksome 
 slavery, on which they would be required to engage 
 in meaningless services, answer difficult questions, 
 and sit the live-long day with folded hands, and 
 downcast eyes. They pursued the same course in 
 relation to other things. Sinful amusements were 
 strictly forbidden, and severely punished. . By the 
 pulpit and the press they were denounced, and yet 
 no measures were taken to substitute innocent plea- 
 sures in their stead, or furnish panting youth with
 
 86 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 any reasonable source of relaxation. The conse- 
 quence was, the young chafed under these restraints 
 awhile, and then broke over them, and rushed out 
 into paths of folly and destruction. 
 
 Not unfrequently we hear parents lamenting that 
 they cannot keep their children at home ; that they 
 do not love home ; that very early in life they have a 
 desire for the company of strangers, and as soon as 
 they are old enough will wander away from the 
 mother's prayer, and the father's counsel. But on 
 investigation we generally find that such parents are, 
 to a considerable extent, responsible for the conduct 
 of their children. They have failed to make home 
 what it ought to be. They have not made it attrac- 
 tive and pleasant. They have not provided amusing 
 and profitable books, and spread arounJ the hearth- 
 gide those allurements which are necessary to engage 
 the attention, and secure the presence of the young. 
 It is impossible for us to love unlovely objects, and 
 HOME cannot be loved, if the father's countenance 
 wears a perpetual frown ; if the mother is fractious 
 and childish ; if occasional disputes disturb the har- 
 mony and prosperity of the circle ; if no book is found 
 on the shelf ; if no kindly sympathies are felt and ex- 
 pressed. The secret of saving children from destruc- 
 tion consists to a great extent, in maldng home lovely 
 and attractive, and did parents understand this secret 
 they would not be called upon so frequently to bewail
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 87 
 
 the conduct of prodigal sons, and mourn over the de- 
 struction of fallen daughters. A clergyman told me, 
 a few days since, that he had a son, who, when quite 
 a child manifested an uneasy and roving disposition. 
 Home did not appear attractive, and on every occasion 
 he would steal away to spend the evening in the com- 
 pany of strangers. Filled with anxiety, the father 
 began to look about for a remedy. He watched his 
 son, and endeavored to discover the bent of his inch- 
 nation. He saw that the boy had a fondness for mu- 
 sic, that he would visit those places where singers re- 
 sorted, and where musical instruments could be found. 
 He saw that he was most willing to visit those fami- 
 lies where the piano was an article of parlor furniture, 
 and where the violin or the harp made their melody. 
 His course was founded on this discovery. He pur- 
 chased at considerable expense an instrument of mu- 
 sic, and spread through his parlor, note-books and 
 songs, everything of that kind which the father's 
 means would allow was furnished, and soon the son 
 became as fond of home, as he had previously been 
 of strangers. His talent was for music, but as he 
 could not enjoy it at home, he searched for it where 
 it was ; but when music came to cheer his own dwell- 
 ing, he had no occasion to leave the warm hearth-side 
 of parental kindness. Were I speaking exclusively 
 to parents, I would urge them, to make home happy, 
 to keep all strife and bitterness away, and ever in the
 
 88 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 presence of children wear a contented and cheerful 
 look. If you feast, let it be at home, and let chil- 
 dren partake of the good things ; if you have newspa- 
 pers in your family, have among the rest, one adapted 
 to your children ; if the profound, logical work which 
 you read yourself, lies upon the table, let one be be- 
 side it, adapted to your children. Make them think 
 that no place on earth can compare with home, and 
 as they grow older, find amusement and recreation 
 for them. Be not afraid to hear them laugh, though 
 the house rings. When they wish for sport, do not 
 drive them out into the street, or into the house of a 
 good-natured neighbor, but bear a little, and remem- 
 ber that you were once a child. 
 
 The same remarks are applicable to a whole com- 
 munity. If there are no seasons of reasonable and 
 pure pleasure, the young will resort to enjoyments 
 which are vicious and destructive. If the social cir- 
 cle, the literary lecture, the musical concert, the de- 
 bating association, the circulating library are not 
 found, the theatre, the gaming-table, the ball-room, 
 the brothel, will have full success. The young man 
 needs relaxation and change, he must have it, it is in 
 accordance with the laws of his nature, and if he can- 
 not find it in innocent, he will resort to sinful plea- 
 sures. 
 
 I am acquainted with a town which a few years 
 ago was notorious for the variety and extent of ita
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 89 
 
 sinful amusements. Every evening the festive hall 
 was lighted, theatrical performances were crowded 
 with visitors, the strolling circus found ready access, 
 and the curse of God seemed to have settled on the 
 place. Pure religion died out, virtue seemed about 
 to follow, and error and sin reigned triumphant. At 
 length two young men determined to use their influ- 
 ence to check the progress of vice, and looking at the 
 matter philosophically, they went to work. They first 
 formed a debating society; then invited a learned 
 gentleman to give them a series of weekly lectures ; 
 established an evening-school, and in these various 
 ways attempted to direct the mind from sinful to 
 innocent amusements. They were successful. The 
 dancing became less frequent, theatrical performances 
 found less encouragement, the circus was denied ad- 
 mittance, and the whole appearance of the town 
 changed, and from being one of the most vicious, it. 
 has become one of the most moral and respectable 
 places in the State. A few years wrought an entire 
 change. Had they commenced declaiming against 
 sinful amusements without providing innocent ones, 
 they might have declaimed until the day of doom. 
 
 This subject is an important one, and I am glad 
 to see the attention of the public turned to it. Men 
 of thought, and men of action are looking upon it 
 in a philosophical light, and I trust the day ia 
 not far distant when young men will not be driven
 
 90 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 to vicious and degrading amusements to find relaxa- 
 tion. 
 n. THAT THE VARIOUS AMUSEMENTS WHICH HAVE 
 
 BEEN DEVISED FOR THE EXPRESS PURPOSE OF GIV- 
 ING RELAXATION HAVE THUS FAR ALL FAILED. 
 
 The object of amusement is to draw off the mind from 
 more serious and toilsome things, and fit it, after a 
 temporary relaxation, to return to the duties of life 
 with new zeal and ability. Anything which can im- 
 pair the health, weaken the intellect, corrupt the 
 heart, defeats this object. Anything which brings 
 weariness and exhaustion, and fatigue, and unfits 
 man to perform the duties of life, is not amusement, 
 but vice. Hence, as we look at dancing, at theatri- 
 cal performances, at gambling, and at the various 
 modes of sinful pleasure, we find that instead of re- 
 lieving the mind from care, and fitting the body for 
 toil, they are defeating the only object for which re- 
 laxation can be sought, they are only adding new 
 cares, new toils, new sorrows. Ask Consumption and 
 she will tell you of the wasting form of the dancer, 
 the hollow cough, and the weary limbs. Go into the 
 chamber of merriment, and you will see men and wo- 
 men dying at half an age. Go to the gambling-saloon, 
 and you will observe the blood-shot eye, the haggard 
 cheek, the trembling lip. Go to the theatre, and 
 you wili find the victims of excitement, their minds 
 warped, and their ideas of life all discolored and dis-
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 91 
 
 torted. Look at any of the schemes of pleasure 
 which have been devised to while away tune, to oc- 
 cupy the hours of evening without benefit, and you 
 will find they have failed to accomplish their pur- 
 pose. They give no relaxation. Perhaps at first, 
 dancing and theatres, were less objectionable than at 
 present, perhaps they gave pleasure and served as 
 recreation ; but they have become so corrupted, so 
 debasing, that I see not how a virtuous person can 
 engage in them. The object of their establishment 
 has not been accomplished. And thus it will con- 
 tinue to be with all the vast variety of sinful amuse- 
 ments. However harmless and simple they may be 
 at the beginning, they will grow worse and worse, 
 and instead of serving as pleasant, healthy recrea- 
 tion, will tend to vitiate, corrupt, and impair. 
 
 Man was made for usefulness. He was designed by 
 God to get good and do good, and hence any amuse- 
 ment to subserve well its purpose, must be blended 
 with utility. But such is not the case with the throng 
 of sinful pleasures by which we are encompassed. 
 There is no utility about them. They are not formed 
 to benefit, but to amuse ; not to instruct, but please. 
 The theatre does not make men wiser, better, or 
 happier, The ball-room does not lighten the load of 
 life, or take one care from the burdened mind. The 
 gaming-table does not make life lighter, or kindle up 
 hope in any desolate soul. If the heart is sad and
 
 92 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 bleeding, if the mind is clouded and perplexed, if the 
 conscience is in trouble, and sorrow is brooding over 
 the soul, a resort to any of these pleasures will only 
 add new bitterness to every cup, and gather a denser 
 darkness around the sinner's path. Thus men will find 
 it, sooner or later. They may for awhile find what 
 they call amusement in. the vain and sinful inventions 
 of the age ; they may silence the voice of conscience 
 for a time, and in the busy whirl of pleasure and 
 gayety, pass on heedless of the admonitions which are 
 given them, but the end will come, and these plea- 
 sures will prove to be sources of vexation and sorrow. 
 
 III. SOME AMUSEMENTS, WHICH ARE HARMLESS, 
 AND WHICH BLEND UTILITY WITH PLEASURE. That 
 
 there are such amusements, you are all -ready to ad- 
 mit, but the usual objection urged against them is, 
 that they are tame and unsatisfying. With pervert- 
 ed tastes, the followers of the world fail to perceive 
 the true, substantial pleasure which flows from use- 
 ful amusements. But with a pure and uncorrupted 
 taste, witl\ a heart feelingly alive to what is truly 
 good, useful amusements are full of recreation and 
 enjoyment. While others fail to give the desired re- 
 laxation, these are completely successful ; they un- 
 bend the mind awhile from life's severer duties, and 
 permit it to return to those duties doubly prepared to 
 perform them. A few of them I will briefly enu- 
 merate.
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 93 
 
 1. Useful reading. In these days of book-making, 
 when the press is throwing off its daily and hourly 
 burden of valuable and worthless volumes, we need 
 be at no loss to make a wise and judicious selec- 
 tion to amuse, instruct, and benefit. Books of travel, 
 of history, of science, of philosophy, of morals, of 
 religion, are abundant, and within the reach of all 
 young people. Whatever may be our peculiar feel- 
 ings and inclinations j tastes and habits, we can find 
 some kind of reading which will benefit us. If 
 we desire to become acquainted with the past, to 
 know how men have lived, and where they were 
 buried, and what have been their habits, volumes of 
 history, written in the various styles of authors hav- 
 ing different national and mental peculiarities, and 
 abounding with information of every character, are 
 in our hands. If we have an inclination to travel, 
 and possess not the means for enjoying this privilege, 
 we may find the most delightful accounts of voyages 
 and journeys, and at our own firesides, travel the 
 wide world over. With the author we may ascend 
 the highest mountains, and descend into the lowest 
 caverns ; we may visit temples, cathedrals, and pago- 
 das ; we may journey to every clime, become familiar 
 with the people of all lands, and ere we have traveled 
 beyond the limits of our own native town, may be ac- 
 quainted with the customs and manners of all earth's 
 tribes. If we Avish to study the sciences, and learn
 
 94 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 the discoveries of the wisest men, we have their 
 works, their minds portrayed on paper, spread out 
 before our gaze, and ready for our use. And while 
 we have these, there is no occasion to resort to fie 
 tion, tragedy, and dramatic pleasures. The drama 
 has nothing to compare for interest, with the realities 
 of science, and there is nothing in fiction which will 
 equal the realities of history. The drama is tame, 
 and tasteless, compared with the history of the past, 
 and there are scenes every year transpiring on the 
 great theatre of the world, which make even the fic- 
 tions of the most glowing writers appear insipid. 
 Now reading is a recreation which combines pleasure 
 with utility, amusement with profit. It does not wea- 
 ry the body, it does not exhaust the mind, it does not 
 corrupt the heart. It brings vigor to each, and gives 
 relaxation and change, and fits us for the more labo- 
 rious and irksome duties of life. An hour spent in 
 the dancing-room brings weariness and sorrow ; an 
 hour spent over a useful book, brings pleasure and 
 profit, and expands and enlarges the deathless soul. 
 
 2. Music. There are some who have little or no 
 desire to cultivate musical talents, but to others, this 
 science is a source of exquisite enjoyment. Indeed 
 were it not for the sweet and melting strains of mu- 
 sic, many scenes of mirth and festivity would lose all 
 their charm, the dancing-hall and the theatre would 
 be as dull and senseless as the gambols of a child.
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 95 
 
 Now to the lover of harmony there is no source of 
 recreation more reasonable and delightful. As the 
 laboring man returns from toil, weary and dejected, 
 the sound of music, and the song of his wife or child 
 will cause him to forget his weariness, and lose his 
 dejection. The simple lay will be a balsam for his 
 wounded spirit, and in the midst of sorrow the heart 
 will be glad. Music formed one of the prominent 
 amusements of the ancient Hebrews. They sung 
 everywhere, and mingled melody with joy or sorrow. 
 The royal David with his chief musicians, Asaph, 
 Heman, and Jeduthun, with their four thousand assis- 
 tants made ceaseless song, and Solomon, his son, the 
 wisest man of his age, had men-singers and women- 
 singers, and Josephus tells us, that the number of mu- 
 sicians employed by him at the dedication of the tem- 
 ple was two hundred thousand. The Greeks and Ro- 
 mans had their songs and their instruments of music, 
 and frequently when they went out to battle, it was 
 with the sound of melody. Nor shall we find music 
 under proper circumstances to be wearisome or dis- 
 sipating. It will give the mind and body relaxation 
 and profit, and fail to impair the intellect or deprave 
 the heart. 
 
 " Music the fiercest grief can charm, 
 And fate's severest rage disarm. 
 Music can change pain to ease, 
 And make despair and madness please , 
 Our joys below it can improve, 
 And antedate the bliss above." 

 
 96 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 There is no science which will assist hi the manage- 
 ment of children, which will serve to soften down hu- 
 man nature, and make the heart feel, to such an 
 extent, as music. Those therefore who are striving 
 to substitute music for the performances of the stage, 
 and the dissipation of the festive hall, and the mid- 
 night revel, deserve the thanks of community ; and 
 musical exhibitions, concerts, and performances should 
 be encouraged, not only by the lovers of pleasure, but 
 also by the lovers of morality and religion. 
 
 3. Traveling. I know that extensive traveling is 
 not within the reach of all, and yet I would recom- 
 mend it to all who have the pecuniary ability. If a 
 man remains at home all his days, if he shuts him- 
 self up within the limits of his own city, and never 
 goes forth to behold the world, and admire the works 
 of God, his soul will be limited and contracted. He 
 will fail to take an enlarged view, and be unable 
 to exert ah extensive influence. There is something 
 in an acquaintance with the world, with men and 
 things, which gives the soul breadth and dimension, 
 and fits it to take an ample view of the subjects 
 which are presented. I am aware that traveling is 
 costly ; that long journeys involve much expense. 
 All that may be urged on this point will be admit- 
 ted. But do I not address some young men, who 
 in every five years spend as much in dancing, in 
 theatrical entertainments, and In other dissipating
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 97 
 
 amusements, as would pay the expense of a visit to 
 Europe, or a voyage to any part of the world. Do I 
 not speak to some, who every year squander enough 
 to defray the expense of a journey through every 
 State in the Union. To those who have the ability, 
 traveling is an entertaining and profitable method of 
 securing relaxation. 
 
 4. Literary lectures. To afford this kind of re- 
 laxation, our lyceums, and lecture courses, have 
 been established. They contribute much to the plea- 
 sure and profit of society. They draw together many 
 who would otherwise be in places of depraved and 
 sinful pleasure. These lectures are generally prepar- 
 ed with considerable care, and contain whole volumes 
 condensed. They frequently present subjects which 
 are in themselves dry and uninteresting, and which on 
 the printed page would give but little pleasure to the 
 reader, but the charm of the living speaker is thrown 
 around them, and knowledge is derived which would 
 never be drawn from printed volumes. The value 
 of these lectures is too little known, and too little ap- 
 preciated. Were they more frequent, and better at- 
 tended, we should have a more enlightened commu- 
 nity, and a more virtuous society. Did they take 
 the place of other degrading and disgusting sources 
 of amusement, we should not so often behold the 
 wrecks of character, and the ruin of unfortunate 
 young men. We should not so often behold the 
 7
 
 98 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 gray hairs of parents brought in sorrow to the grave, 
 or hear them lament so frequently the downfall of 
 their prodigal sons. 
 
 5. Social visiting. Young men are not fond of 
 visiting. They deem it tedious to call from house to 
 house, to seek an acquaintance with society. But if 
 they would employ more of their time in this manner, 
 they would find it a source of pleasure and profit. 
 They would thus be enabled to make valuable ac- 
 quaintances, they would see men as they are, and 
 not as they appear in public life, they would get a 
 deeper insight into human nature, they would escape 
 the hollow and heartless salutations of public occa- 
 sions, and be able Jbetter to understand " life at 
 home." I am aware that those who congregate in 
 large cities are often destitute of any place which 
 they dare denominate HOME. But others who are 
 more fortunately situated, have a duty devolved upon 
 them by this very fact ; a duty, too, which has hard- 
 ly begun to be understood. In a city like this, the 
 doors of every house should be open to our young 
 people ; they should be invited frequently to visit our 
 families, not as strangers or dependents, but as young 
 men who have no homes and firesides of their own. 
 Let them know that your parlors and your sitting- 
 rooms are always ready to receive them, and when 
 they come give them a cordial welcome. 
 
 7. Social gatherings. These are somewhat com-
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 99 
 
 mon in the form of " sewing societies," which young 
 people of both sexes attend. They are connected 
 with the various religious congregations, and are on 
 the whole, productive of good. Though all social 
 gatherings will have some objections attending them, 
 yet they are, at least, innocent substitutes for worse 
 amusements. Every such society should have some 
 benevolent object in view, and in no case should mere 
 enjoyment be substituted for utility. While freedom 
 should be given to all the social feelings, the great 
 fact that we are immortal and accountable, should be 
 made prominent. There are other social gatherings 
 on various occasions, all of which I would not recom- 
 mend. Many of them are turned to vicious purposes, 
 and are calculated to defeat the object for which 
 we seek recreation. There are others in which we 
 may freely engage, in which we may take a part, 
 and by so doing find bodily and mental relaxation. 
 We have been made for society, formed for mutual 
 fellowship, and if we find it not in these harmless, we 
 shall find it in sinful and depraved circles. 
 
 "To view, alone, 
 
 The fairest scenes of land and deep, 
 With none to listen, and reply 
 To thoughts with which my heart beat high, 
 Were irksome ; for whate'er our mood, 
 In sooth, we love not solitude. 
 
 8. Paintings, and other works of art. To most 
 of us, the paintings of the great masters are in-
 
 100 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 accessible. Those works which the world has ad- 
 mired are out of our reach ; but within a few years 
 paintings and statuary of less merit have become 
 abundant. The late works are well-adapted to the 
 common mind, and though in many cases destitute of 
 artistic skill, are really valuable in giving us an idea 
 of the scenery of various countries which we have 
 never visited. These exhibitions form a pleasant and 
 profitable mode of securing recreation, and deserve 
 the patronage of all young people. The artists in al- 
 most all cases are young men, and deserve the sup- 
 port of community for the services which they have 
 rendered. We have the " Voyage to Europe," the 
 " Scenery of the Rhine ;" the " Views of the Missis- 
 sippi and Ohio ;" the " Scenery and Battles of Mexi- 
 co ;" the " Model of Ancient and Modern Jerusa- 
 lem ;" the " Moving Statuary of the Scriptures," 
 and a multitude of others which are all deserving of 
 notice. 
 
 I might mention many other sources of innocent 
 pleasure, which are combined with utility, but these 
 will suffice. We are surrounded on all sides with op- 
 portunities to enjoy ourselves without becoming the 
 patrons of vice, and if we will, we may secure them. 
 There is one source of pleasure and relaxation from 
 toil, which I ought not to omit in this enumera- 
 tion, a source of pleasure and bliss which exceeds 
 all others, and is more rational and Godlike, an
 
 INNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 101 
 
 avocation in "which angels are ceaselessly employed. 
 I refer to 
 
 9. Religion ; the public and private worship of 
 God. I know that to many, the duties of religion 
 would be an intolerable hardship. I am aware that 
 they would find no pleasure in the closet, or in the 
 praying circle, while their hearts remain unchanged, 
 but to others the place of prayer is, of all spots on 
 earth, the best to find calm and holy satisfaction, to 
 obtain relief from sorrow and sin, to unbend the mind 
 from the world's perplexities, and centre it on true 
 and pure objects, and if you will secure that state 
 of mind which will fit you for communion with God, 
 you will find in it a more substantial pleasure, than 
 this poor wretched world affords. It will sweeten 
 every cup which Divine providence puts to mortal 
 lips, and dispel the darkest shadow which ever 
 gathers over the sinner's path. 
 
 " Religion is a glorious treasure, 
 
 The purchase of a Saviour's love ; 
 It fills the mind with consolation, 
 And lifts the soul to things above." 
 
 Here I will leave the subject, asking you to give it 
 that attention which its importance demands. As 
 you go out from this house you will find some sinful 
 amusement presenting its claim on every side. As 
 the week rolls away, and you feel the need of recrea- 
 tion and change, a score of objects will present them-
 
 y-. 
 
 102 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 
 
 selves, and hold out their tempting offers. On every 
 hand you will be beset with vices and seductions. At 
 such times remember the claims of God and reason. 
 Let the fact that you are immortal and accountable, 
 that you are not to perish in the grave, but are to 
 live on after the destruction of matter, and the world's 
 great wreck, and think and act in the vast future, 
 admonish you. Contemplate yourself as a young 
 man, created by God for a noble purpose, placed in 
 this world as a probationer for the next, to live with 
 angels or with demons forever. When sin presents 
 its claims, when your associates urge you into paths 
 of vice and folly, and all around are conspiring to 
 shut out the voice of God, and induce thee to destroy 
 and wrong thy nobler nature, do it not. Thou art 
 immortal, accountable. Let this thought drive thee 
 back from every path of sin. God is thy sire, thou 
 art his child ! Let this send thee to his arms. Re- 
 member, that 
 
 " The stars shall fade away, the Sun himself 
 Grows dim with age, and Nature sinks in years : 
 But thou shall nourish in immortal youth, 
 Unhurt amidst the war of elements, 
 The wreck of matter, and the crash of worlds." 
 
 It is right that man should be happy ; it is proper 
 for him to seek amusement and enjoyment. There is 
 nothing in nature, nothing in religion which forbids 
 the full and free enjoyment in a reasonable manner,
 
 DTNOCENT AMUSEMENTS. 103 
 
 and to a reasonable extent, of all the faculties which 
 God has given us ; but while enjoying, we have no 
 right to debase ; when seeking pleasure, we have no 
 excuse for plucking the poison-flowers of sin. All 
 within us, and around us, utters impressively, " the 
 way of the transgressor is hard." While the way of 
 life is full of precious tokens of Divine approval, the 
 curse of the Almighty, hangs over the way of death, 
 and though pleasure may be found for a season, and 
 the heart beat gaily in its own fancied, but false se- 
 curity, the end will be as dreadful, as the beginning 
 was fair and deceitful. Every tree in Satan's gar- 
 den, hangs laden with poisoned fruit, and wo to him 
 who plucks and eats.
 
 LECTURE V. 
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 DO THYSELF NO HARM. Acts 16: 28. 
 
 THIS passage of Scripture is a part of one of the 
 most interesting narratives which can be found in any 
 of the sacred -writings. It was uttered while Paul 
 was at Philippi, a city of Macedonia. On account of 
 his religious opinions and teachings he had been incar- 
 cerated in a dungeon, and in company with Silas had 
 been thrust into the inner-prison. With his free spirit, 
 unbroken by the affliction, he praised God at mid- 
 night, the whole prison resounded with the melody of a 
 song which had never been heard there before. The 
 prisoners in their cells heard the sweet music. Start- 
 ing from their slumbers, they asked in astonishment, 
 " What is this ?" and listened with wrapt attention to 
 the heavenly sound as it echoed on the air of night, 
 and floated in gentle strains through their dark and 
 gloomy dungeons. While they thus sang an earth-
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 105 
 
 quake shook the prison, the fetters fell from their 
 chafed limbs, and they rose up, leaving their manacles 
 behind them. Aroused by the noise and confusion 
 of the scene, the jailor arose in terror, and saw the 
 doors of his prison open, and the fetters struck from 
 the limbs of the prisoners, whom he had been charged 
 to keep in safety. Supposing that some had fled, he 
 was alarmed, and in fear lest he should be punished, 
 drew his sword and would have killed himself. See- 
 ing his desperate intention, Paul cried out to him, 
 "Do thyself no harm," and by a declaration that 
 none had escaped, calmed his fears, and induced him 
 to put his sword again into its sheath. 
 
 Like the Philippian jailor, men are now doing them- 
 selves (in many instances) inconceivable harm. They 
 are their own worst enemies, and are frequently the 
 cause of their own destruction. Thus is it with those 
 who are living in the practice of the sinful amuse- 
 ments of life, and who are bent on the gratification of 
 their carnal desires at the expense of better and ho- 
 lier things. Like a madman they are drawing the 
 sword upon themselves, and doing to their own souls 
 irreparable injury. 
 
 Upon the subject of DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS, I 
 wish this evening to offer a few friendly remarks, and 
 by presenting them to you as they appear to my own 
 mind, induce you to avoid them as destructive to the 
 welfare of this life, and the life to come. In the
 
 106 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 brief space allowed for a single lecture, I can 
 only glance at a few of the most prominent sources 
 of sinful pleasure, and by the survey of them, lead 
 you to an abhorrence of the whole. I will call your 
 attention then, 
 
 TO THE DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS OF OUR TIMES. 
 
 Their number is legion. They are adapted to high 
 life, and low life, to youth and age, to every con- 
 dition and rank of human beings. They do not exist 
 alone in crowded cities, and marts of commerce, but 
 make every spot inhabited by man, the scene of their 
 operations. Created by God upright, surrounded 
 with pure and profitable pleasures, man has forsaken 
 them, and sought out many inventions. He has left 
 the pure spring of living water, the fountain which 
 gushes from the hand of God, and hewn out to him- 
 self broken cisterns which can hold no water. Fitted 
 for the skies, made by the Creator to look upward, 
 and destined for immortality, man has withdrawn his 
 gaze from Deity, and fixed it on the earth. Dying 
 although he be, he courts disease. Death lurks in 
 his path, clad in the livery of heaven, and he stoops to 
 embrace the monster,- and dies. Nothing that he 
 meets in all his progress through life is more decep- 
 tive and false, than are the sinful pleasures by which 
 Satan wishes to ensure his destruction. The arch- 
 fiend, who knows well with what material he has to 
 deal, has displayed' his infernal wisdom in the devices
 
 DANGEKOUS AMUSEMENTS. 107 
 
 by which every step of youth is beset. The various 
 amusements of society have been the ruin of thou- 
 sands, who but for them, might have been upright and 
 respectable. All along the tide of time, are wrecks 
 of characters which have been destroyed by the gild- 
 ed fascinations of pleasure. And thousands more 
 will be destroyed ere men will open their eyes upon 
 the fearful scenes around them, and arise hi all the 
 strength of human nature, to roll back the waves of 
 sorrow. And until this time arrives, these monu- 
 ments of wrath will stand ; like sunken rocks at times 
 concealed from view, they will involve new victims in 
 the snare, and prove the fatal spots where souls are 
 wrecked. 
 
 I. The theatre. So much has been said of late 
 upon this source of depraved pleasure, that I need 
 not dwell much upon it. All good men have united 
 in its condemnation, and all bad men have joined in 
 its support. 
 
 " From first to last it was an evil place, 
 And now such scenes are acted there, as made 
 The devils blush ; and from the neighborhood, 
 Angels and holy men, trembling retired." 
 
 I do not say that the theatre cannot be made a 
 source of innocent amusement ; I do not affirm that 
 the drama cannot be made a source of reasonable en- 
 joyment ; but I do affirm that it is not. Facts which 
 cannot be controverted prove that it has been, and is
 
 108 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 now, a source of moral corruption. In every city of 
 our great country the theatre has been an aceldama, 
 and many a father has turned his weeping eyes to- 
 wards it, as the spot where his child was decoyed into 
 an, and ruined forever. Says Rev. Mr. East, " I 
 called to see a mother ; she was in distress. She 
 not merely wept, but wept aloud. ' my child ! ' 
 and she wept again. ' my child is just commit- 
 ted to prison, and I fear he will never return to his 
 father's house,' and then her tears burst forth, and 
 with all my firmness I could not help weeping with 
 her. I was afraid to ask the cause ; I did not need, 
 for she said, ' that THEATRE ! He was a virtuous, 
 kind youth, till that theatre proved Ms ruin!" 
 Nor is this a solitary case. There are mothers 
 throughout New England who are shedding like 
 tears, over like sorrow. It is the opinion of one of 
 the best, most talented, clergymen of our country ; 
 a man of age, observation, and long experience, that 
 more characters are ruined by the theatre, than by 
 any other device of Satan. He says, " I have watch- 
 ed the progress of young men, as they have become 
 the habitual attendants upon the amusements of the 
 stage, and never have I known one to maintain his 
 integrity any length of time." The whole history 
 of theatrical performances, prove that there is about 
 them a corrupting influence, a demoralizing tendency. 
 Exciting and fascinating, they secure a large attend-
 
 DANGEKOUS AMUSEMENTS. 109 
 
 ance, and exert a wide influence. The young are 
 dazzled and charmed by the display, and ere they 
 are aware, have ventured too far out upon the sea 
 of indulgence to return. Not many months ago, I 
 visited, at the request of a broken-hearted mother, a 
 young man who was confined in prison. As I enter- 
 ed the cell and introduced myself to him, I saw shame 
 spread over his face, and the blush overcast a counte- 
 nance from which vice had not as yet removed all 
 trace of beauty. Seating myself by his side, I com- 
 menced a kind and cheerful conversation with him. 
 He told me that he had been in that place seven 
 months, and had several more to remain. His heart 
 was bowed with sorrow as he remarked, " that during 
 those seven months, he had heard kind words from 
 only one person Ms mother." He described to me 
 the course of crime which had made him an outcast 
 from society. At the age of twenty-two he had a 
 character as fair as ours. His employment was pro- 
 fitable, and" he was doing well. But he was induced 
 to attend the theatre. What he saw there pleased 
 him. He went again and again. Soon his income 
 would not support his extravagance, The nightly 
 visit to the play-house must be abandoned, or he must 
 have more money. He endeavored to secure a more 
 lucrative business, but failed. He took upon himself 
 new duties, but the increase of his income was not 
 proportionate to the increase of his expenses. The
 
 110 THE TOU1TG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 gaming-table presented itself, and lie became a gam- 
 bler. From one step to another he advanced in 
 crime. As his heart grew harder, he became bolder 
 in sin, and at length committed the crime for which 
 he was imprisoned. " 0," said he to me, with a tone 
 which I never shall forget, "had I known that I 
 should have come to this, I would have as soon jump- 
 ed into the fires of hell, as gone to the theatre." 
 When I spoke of reformation, he shook his head, and 
 sighed. " This country is no home for a detected 
 thief," he said. Upon looking around his room, I 
 found two books ; a Bible which his mother had given 
 him, and which had no appearance of having been 
 read, and the "Wandering Jew," an obscene, dis- 
 gusting novel. He was a melancholy spectacle of 
 what the theatre can do, and is doing, to transform 
 the fair characters of our young people, and change 
 them from upright members of society to degraded, 
 detected outcasts. Henry Ward Beecher, in his 
 strong, truthful language says, speaking of the thea- 
 tre, " Here are brilliant bars to teach the young to 
 drink ; here are gay companions to undo in half an 
 hour, the scruples formed by an education of years ; 
 here are pimps of pleasure to delude the brain with 
 bewildering sophisms of li cense ; here is pleasure, all 
 flushed in its gayest, boldest, most fascinating forms ; 
 and few there be who can resist its wiles ; and fewer 
 yet, who can yield to them, and escape ruin. If you
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. Ill 
 
 would pervert the taste, go to the theatre. If you 
 would imbibe false views, go to the theatre. If you 
 would efface as speedily as possible all qualms of 
 conscience, go to the theatre. If you would put 
 yourself irreconcilably against the spirit of virtue 
 and religion, go to the theatre. If you would be in- 
 fected with each particular vice in the catalogue of 
 depravity, go to the theatre. Let parents, who wish 
 to make their children weary of home and quiet do- 
 mestic enjoyments, take them to the theatre. If it be 
 desirable for the young to loathe industry and didac- 
 tic reading, and burn for fiery excitements, and seek 
 them by stealth, or through pilferings if need be, then 
 send them to the theatre." 
 
 2. Dancing. I am well aware, that there are 
 different grades of vice and depravity connected with 
 this amusement. There are the occasional balls and 
 parties, and the regular weekly, or nightly revel. 
 While of the former we cannot speak in commenda- 
 tion, of the latter we can speak only in terms of en- 
 tire disapproval. As they are conducted they are 
 sinks of depravity, one of which is sufficient to curse 
 a nation. I am yet to find that there is anything 
 good about them. Contrived for the gratification of 
 the basest passions of the basest classes in society, 
 they become the source of a vast amount of profligacy 
 and debauchery. They neither tend to give relaxa- 
 tion to the exhausted body, nor the care-worn mind ;
 
 112 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 they do not implant in the soul one single virtuous 
 sentiment ; they do not strengthen in any mind the 
 virtuous teachings of home, but everywhere are found 
 to be prolific causes of corruption and death. Could 
 all those who are ruined every year in large cities, by 
 this vicious amusement, be brought together, what a 
 spectacle would be presented. Men who are now apolo- 
 gizing for the vice, would stand aghast ; parents who 
 are sending their children to these sinks of corruption 
 would as soon send them into a nest of vipers ; young 
 men who are bartering their souls away for the miser- 
 able mirth, would fly from it, as from the door of hell. 
 The broken-down tradesman, the ruined mechanic, 
 the once studious lawyer, would appear before us, 
 limping from the midnight carousal, to bear witness to 
 the damning influence of this school of infamy. Once 
 respected, once prosperous in life, once beating with 
 high hopes ; now tossed by passion, and driven by 
 the storms of vice. Females would come, daughters 
 and sisters, who awhile since, suspicion dare not touch, 
 and on whose cheek the blush of shame had never 
 been seen, now wearing vice like a garment, every 
 feature distorted, every sign of innocence blotted 
 out, every trace of virtue gone. This is no tale of 
 fancy. You have only to look around you to have it 
 painfully confirmed. I knew a family awhile since 
 who were living in the enjoyment of many of life's 
 blessings. The husband and the wife were young,
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 
 
 and when I saw them first, a lovely child was twining 
 its arms around the mother's form. A year rolled 
 away, and there was a change. God in his awful 
 providence had removed the child, and left the pa- 
 rents in sorrow. Home now seemed dreary, and in- 
 stead of seeking solace in the Saviour, they fled to 
 the dance and the revel. Soon the woe commenced. 
 The mother threw aside her mourning for the gay 
 attire of the ball-room, and each of them began to 
 drink the bitter waters of vice. Affection for each 
 other fled ; strife took the place of contentment and 
 quiet ; a separation ensued ; the husband fled, and 
 the wife, young, interesting and intelligent, has en- 
 tered upon a course of crime which will end in com- 
 plete ruin. A happy family has been destroyed, the 
 hearts of friends have been distressed, and the vows 
 of marriage recklessly trampled under foot. 
 
 3. Gambling. This sort of amusement is gene- 
 rally regarded as a crime. Those who uphold the 
 theatre and the dance, make no plea for this. The 
 law looks upon it as a doubtful employment, and none 
 but those engaged in it, are willing to be its de- 
 fenders. And yet there are few sources of corrup- 
 tion more fascinating and deceptive. All men want 
 money, and when the prospect of securing a large 
 sum in a single night, is held up before us, the eyes 
 are dazzled and blinded. Compared with a game of 
 chance, the slow process of making a fortune over an 
 8
 
 114 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 anvil or plough, appears to the young exceedingly 
 difficult, and they are often led to the gaming-table, 
 in order to become rich sooner. Then there is 
 something in gaming, when considered as an amuse- 
 ment merely, which is well-calculated to captivate. 
 The uncertainty, the excitement, the all-absorbing 
 interest, lead the mind astray, and he who becomes 
 addicted to the vice, and learns to love, it, will find 
 himself bound in chains stronger than iron. Within 
 the last few years gaming has become exceedingly 
 prevalent ; children are gambling in the streets, their 
 sires are gambling in low cellars, while our fashionable 
 young men are pursuing the same employment in gay 
 and gilded saloons. In almost every street your ears 
 are saluted by the sound of the rolling ball, and the 
 clattering dice, and the melancholy evidence of the 
 prevalence of this vice is on every side. And the re- 
 sult will be a community of dishonest men ; a vicious, 
 depraved society. 
 
 The idea that a man can be honest while he is 
 a confirmed gambler, is absurd. Gambling saps 
 the principle of honesty, and makes a man a vil- 
 lain in a night. The record of this vice is full 
 of cases which are fearfully illustrative of the truth 
 of this position. In a short time a man will learn 
 to cheat his victim without mercy. He will lead 
 him to the bar, and induce him to drink, and when 
 his brain is on fire will lead him back to the board,
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 115 
 
 and rob him of his all. He may know that he 
 has a starving wife and child at home, but he cares 
 not for that. He may know that the safety of the 
 man's reason, and life, and SOUL, may depend on the 
 game, but he cares not. He will cheat him, even 
 if he knows his wife and child will starve, or die 
 broken-hearted ; he will play and rifle his pockets, 
 though he may believe all the while, that the poor 
 wretch will be driven to madness, to suicide, to hell. 
 The tender mercy of the confirmed gambler is cruel. 
 Gold is his god, and to secure it, he would barter 
 away the souls of his own children. I know of no 
 vice which so effectively hardens the heart, destroys 
 all tender feeling, and deadens the soul to things 
 which are excellent, as does gambling. The theatre 
 and the dance, destructive as they are, are not to be 
 compared with it in this respect. Dr. Nott says, 
 " The finished gambler has no heart ; he would play 
 at his brother's funeral, he would gamble upon his 
 mother's coffin." A fact is related on good authori- 
 ty,* of gamblers who wished to show their utter 
 contempt for all sacred things, and their entire disre- 
 gard of all that men deem sacred and divine. After 
 various deeds of folly and madness, which exhibited 
 their recklessness, they entered at night the charnel- 
 house of a cathedral, and took from its resting-place 
 a corpse which had been buried the same day. Up 
 
 * Rev. W. B. Tappan.
 
 116 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 through the narrow passage, thej bore the person of 
 the dead, uttering low jokes and blasphemous expres- 
 sions. With their clay-cold load they arrived in the 
 cathedral, passed within the chancel, lighted up one 
 of the candles of the altar, and then placing the 
 corpse in a chair by the communion-table, gathered 
 around it and engaged in a game of chance. 
 
 4. Social drinking. Intemperance is insidious. It 
 does not come at once with its burning streams to 
 consume the heart of its victim, but slowly and 
 gradually drags itself along, taking one fortress af- 
 ter another, until the fashionable, genteel, moderate 
 drinker has become the reeling, bloated, degraded 
 drunkard. There is something in the idea of taking 
 a social glass with a friend, or drinking a cup of 
 sparkling wine on some public occasion, exceedingly 
 pleasant. The young fail to perceive the danger of 
 the practice. They cannot see how it is, that a 
 man is led on from moderation to brutal excess, and 
 hence use the wine-cup freely, and without fear of any 
 evil consequences. The idea that he shall become a 
 drunkard, does not enter into the mind of the young 
 man when he sips the poison. And thus it has ever 
 been with those who have become intemperate. Not 
 one of all the thousands who have gone down to a 
 drunkard's grave, and have entered upon the scenes 
 of a drunkard's eternity, ever supposed that he should 
 be a beastly, degraded inebriate. Such an end never
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 117 
 
 presented itself to the mind of any young man, as for 
 the first time he drank his social glass. But step by 
 step, the habit grew upon him ; day by day the fatal 
 spell was thrown around him ; deeper and deeper he 
 descended into the vortex of wretchedness, until the 
 last lamp which shed its light upon his path was put 
 out, the last star of hope sank in darkness. 
 
 I am perhaps addressing those who occasionally 
 make use of intoxicating drinks, and who on social oc- 
 casions deem it well to take the cup of wine without 
 hesitation. You do not perceive any signs of danger, 
 and should one remonstrate with you personally, you 
 would consider it an insult. " Can I not govern my- 
 self ?" you would ask with outraged feelings. " Can 
 I not drink when I please, and let it alone when I 
 please ?" " Have I no power over my appetite and 
 passions ?" The same questions others have asked, 
 and yet been hurried into the whirlpool of dr unkenness. 
 Others, when remonstrated with, have been as indig- 
 nant as yourself, but have ultimately found that the 
 cup was poison, that death lurked beneath its brim, 
 that the deathless worm was coiled up there, that it 
 burned the soul with deathless flame. I have read 
 somewhere of a man who kept a tiger hi his house. 
 He had secured the animal when it was quite young, 
 and by kindness and gentleness had apparently sub- 
 dued its ferocious and bloodthirsty disposition. So 
 attached to his pet did he become, that he took the
 
 118 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 creature to bed with him at night, and let it folloTf 
 him in his travels. Friends remonstrated, and urged 
 the nature of the animal, and predicted danger. The 
 foolish man laughed at their fears, and ridiculed the 
 idea of danger. At length he -went to sleep at night 
 as usual with the beast by his side. Turning in his 
 bed he drew his hand across one of the paws of his 
 favorite. The wound streamed with blood. The 
 tiger tasted it. His ferocious nature which had been 
 curbed for years was aroused, and when the morning 
 came, all that remained of his master was a bleeding, 
 mangled corpse. The man who sports with intempe- 
 rance in any form, who drinks moderately or im- 
 moderately is tampering with the tiger. He will 
 i-ealize the truth of Scripture, " at last it biteth like 
 a serpent, and stingeth like an adder." 
 
 5. There are other sources of sinful and dangerous 
 amusement which I need not mention. If you turn 
 your gaze over the surface of society, you will find 
 abundant evidence upon this subject. Everywhere 
 will meet your eye the crowds of men and women 
 seeking pleasure in paths that lead to death, and 
 on every hand will appear the wrecks of character 
 which strew the tide of time. A few objections to 
 all sinful pleasures, will close this discourse. 
 
 1. TJiey abuse time. Time was given us for a 
 high purpose. It was designed as a season of proba- 
 tion. In it, man is to fit himself for eternity, and
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 119 
 
 prepare his soul for a crown in heaven. He has no 
 right to squander it in any of the vain employ- 
 ments which I have this evening enumerated. We 
 are accountable to God, and of nothing will he require 
 a more strict account than of our time. If that is 
 wasted and abused, his most severe judgments will 
 fall upon the guilty head. And what waste of time 
 can be more shameful than that of the dancer, or the 
 stage-player ? It is a sad and fearful sight to behold 
 a being created for immortality, having a deathless 
 soul, and soon to stand before God, leaving the purpose 
 for which his Maker has designed him, and spending 
 the time which will soon run out, in capering around 
 a violin until midnight, or watching the grimaces of 
 some ridiculously dressed actor, as he attempts to 
 mimic the poor forlorn objects of human woe. If 
 there is one scene on earth, which is empty, vain, and 
 trifling, it is that which the dancing-hall exhibits. 
 The gambler hopes to gain gold, but dancers can hope 
 for nothing but exhaustion, weariness, and disease. 
 Dressed in gilt and tinsel, looking more like some 
 specimens of the brute creation than human beings, 
 they whirl and tumble about like idiots, or shakers. 
 One grand jumble will not satisfy them, but hour after 
 hour must be spent in the unhealthy, unreasonable, 
 unmeaning service. And how will such give an ac- 
 count of their time to God ? Has he given them the 
 precious boon of life for such a purpose ? Has he
 
 120 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 made man immortal that lie might spend thus, his 
 existence upon the earth ? Not at all ! God had 
 no such design in view, and he must look down upon 
 these sources of depraved pleasure with infinite ab- 
 horrence. If the waste of time was the only objec- 
 tion which could be urged against them, it would be 
 enough. It would be sufficient to brand them with 
 divine and human disapprobation. It would be 
 enough to induce every son and daughter of Adam 
 to abjure them as destructive to the best interests 
 of the human family. 
 
 2. They are destructive to health. This you all 
 know. The man must be insane who denies that 
 drinking and dancing are calculated to sap the ener- 
 gies of the system and destroy life. Were half the 
 vigorous constitutions destroyed by an attendance 
 upon the house of God, that are ruined by the amuse- 
 ments which are spread around us in such profusion, 
 the voice of the whole community would demand that 
 houses of public worship should be abolished. Many 
 individuals are horror struck, if a protracted meeting 
 is held, or, if on the evenings of the week, meetings 
 are prolonged an half hour beyond the usual length. 
 And yet the persons who make such an outcry, see 
 no objection to dancing meetings if they are con- 
 tinued until morning. They are afraid that Chris- 
 tians will suffer, if they sit a single hour in the pray- 
 ing circle, even though they be arrayed in warm,
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 121 
 
 comfortable clothing, and yet will resort to the danc- 
 ing hall in the most unbecoming and uncomfortable 
 apparel, and deem it no outrage upon the laws of 
 nature. When this matter shall be seen in its proper 
 light, it will be found that to the sinful amusements, 
 the sexton is to a great extent indebted for his trade ; 
 that more lives are lost by them, than by war. There 
 should (if justice had its rule), be a hospital beside 
 every dancing hall, and every tippling shop in our 
 land, and the broken down specimens of humanity 
 who keep these laboratories of death, should behold 
 the destruction which they cause. 
 
 3. They lead to extravagance and prodigality. 
 The road is not a long one, from affluence to poverty, 
 when vice has become a source of amusement and 
 daily recreation. We have not to travel far to 
 find sad and solemn lessons, teaching the influence 
 of vicious pleasure upon the purse and pocket. 
 Every city has them. They throng the temple of 
 memory. They are living all around us. The great 
 cause why so many young men are obliged to aban- 
 don business, and retire from the scenes of youth, is { 
 not because commercial embarrassments have spread 
 over the land, not because business is not profitable, 
 but because vicious pleasure is unprofitable, because 
 a course of vice will swallow up the most lavish in- 
 come, because the ceaseless cry of these depraved 
 pleasures is like that of the daughter of the leech,
 
 122 N THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 Give, give. To a young man accustomed to find en- 
 joyment in the vicious amusements of the day, there 
 is no end to expenses. They come thicker and faster, 
 like the snow flakes of winter. They multiply and 
 increase every day, and soon the course of folly must 
 be broken up, or the means for continuing these ex- 
 cesses, furnished from some other quarter. Do you 
 ask the cause of so much bankruptcy ? Look for a 
 reply to the sinful amusements of our large cities, 
 pursued by their ten thousand votaries. Do you ask 
 the cause of so much moral delinquency ? of so much 
 dishonesty ? so much forgery, and theft, and wrong ? 
 Go, for an answer, to the sin-stained pleasures of the 
 young. Do you ask the cause of extravagance, prodi- 
 gality, and suffering ? Go to the lighted hall, the 
 playhouse, and the gay saloon, and you have the reply. 
 
 " Vice drains our cellar dry, 
 And keeps our larder clean ; puts out our fires, 
 And introduces hunger, frost, and -woe, 
 Where peace and hospitality might reign." 
 
 4. They are unnatural. Man does not need them. 
 They are perversions of our nature, and produce 
 misery only. They do not bring relaxation and re- 
 lief, but sorrow and distress. They are wholly un- 
 necessary. God has given us pure pleasures in 
 abundance. He has surrounded us with an endless 
 variety of charms, and made us to enjoy them. The 
 angels might as well descend to earth in the vain hope
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 123 
 
 of finding more bliss here, than beside the shining 
 throne, as man leave the pure joys and pleasures 
 which God has given, to grasp those which Satan has 
 devised for his destruction. Says an eloquent writer, 
 " Upon this broad earth, perfumed with flowers, scent- 
 ed with odors, brilliant in colors, vocal with echo- 
 ing and re-echoing melody, I take my stand against 
 all demoralizing pleasure. Is it not enough that our 
 Father's house is so full of dear delights, that we must 
 wander prodigal to the swineherd for husks, and to 
 the slough for drink ? When the trees of God's heri- 
 tage bend over our heads, and solicit our hand to 
 pluck the golden fruitage, must we still go in search 
 of the apples of Sodom outside fair, and inside 
 ashes ? Men will crowd the circus to hear clowns, 
 and see rare feats of horsemanship ; but a bird may 
 poise beneath the very sun, or flying downward swoop 
 from the high heavens ; then flit with graceful ease, 
 hither and thither, pouring liquid song as if it were a 
 perennial fountain of sound, no man cares for that. 
 Upon the stage of life, the vastest tragedies are per- 
 forming in every act ; nations pitching headlong to 
 their final catastrophe ; others, raising their youthful 
 forms to begin the drama of their existence. The 
 world of society is as full of exciting interest, as na- 
 ture is full of beauty. The great dramatic throng of 
 life is hustling along, the wise, the fool, the clown, 
 the miser, the bereaved, the broken-hearted. Life
 
 124 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 mingles before us smiles and tears, sighs and laugh- 
 ter, joy and gloom, as the spring mingles the "winter 
 storm and summer sunshine. To this vast theatre 
 which God hath builded, where stranger plays are 
 seen than ever authors writ, man seldom cares to 
 come. When God dramatizes, when nations act, 
 or all human kind conspire to educe the vast catas- 
 trophe, men sleep and snore ; and let the busy scene 
 go on, unlocked, unthought upon, and turn from all 
 its varied magnificence to hunt out some candle- 
 lighted hole, and gaze at drunken ranters, or cry at 
 the piteous virtue of harlots in distress." 
 
 5. They are heart-corrupting, and soulrdestroying. 
 "Were the effects of vicious amusements confined to 
 this life, were the waste of time, the abuse of health, 
 the extravagance and prodigality, all the evil which 
 could flow from them, they might be sought with less 
 guilt than at present. But they have immediate in- 
 fluence upon the soul of man, and are doubtless the 
 cause of the destruction of thousands. The day of 
 judgment will alone reveal the influence of depraved 
 pleasures in peopling that world where no light is, 
 and where the wail of sorrow is ever heard. They 
 contribute essentially to deaden the heart to holy in- 
 fluences, to sear the conscience, and prepare the vic- 
 tim to go out into blackness and darkness. Those 
 who are accustomed to find pleasure in such scenes, 
 are well aware, that they are inconsistent with reli-
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 125 
 
 gion, and the contemplation of heavenly objects ; that 
 they turn the mind away from God, and blind the 
 eyes to all the dangers of the future. 
 
 It is a sad sight, to see men so nobly made, with 
 such a lofty destiny before them, "with so many high 
 hopes of future good, pursuing the miserable phantoms 
 of this life, and choosing pleasure and sinful mirth, 
 while heaven and immortality should be the objects 
 of their choice. And I presume they will continue 
 in this course of madness until death calls them away 
 to the retributions of eternity. As it was in the days 
 of Noah, so shall it be in the coming of the Son 
 of man. Men will eat and drink, work and play, 
 be sorrowful and merry until the end come, and the 
 wicked shall be destroyed. And I fear that some 
 will be so attached to their pleasures that they will 
 continue to sport with judgment, until the power of 
 vengeance shall burst upon them. 
 
 I know not as I can better close this discourse, 
 than by relating an incident which is said to have oc- 
 curred while the French army occupied the city of 
 Moscow. Of its truth or falsity, I have no means of 
 knowing. A party of officers and soldiers determined 
 to have a military levee, and for this purpose chose 
 the deserted palace of a Russian nobleman, in the 
 vault of which a large quantity of powder had been 
 deposited. That night the city was set on fire. As 
 the sun went down, they began to assemble. The
 
 126 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 females who followed the fortunes of the French 
 forces, were decorated for the occasion. The gayest 
 and noblest of the army were there, and merriment 
 reigned over the crowd. During the dance the fire 
 rapidly approached them ; they saw it coming, hut 
 felt no fear. At length the building next to the one 
 which they occupied was on fire. Coming to the win- 
 dows, they gazed upon the billows of fire which swept 
 upon their fortress, and then returned to their amuse- 
 ment. Again and again they left their pleasure, to 
 watch the progress of the flames. At length the 
 dance ceased, and the necessity of leaving the scene 
 of merriment became apparent to all. They were en- 
 veloped in a flood of fire, and gazed on with deep and 
 awful solemnity. At length the fire communicating to 
 their own building, caused them to prepare for flight, 
 when a brave young officer, named Carnot, waved his 
 jeweled glove above his head, and exclaimed, " One 
 dance more, and defiance to the flame." All caught 
 the enthusiasm of the moment, and, " One dance 
 more, and defiance to the flame," burst from the lips 
 of all. The dance commenced, louder and louder 
 grew the sound of music, and faster and faster fell 
 the pattering footsteps of dancing men and women, 
 when suddenly they heard a cry, " The fire has 
 reached the magazine, fly ! fly ! for life !" One 
 moment they stood, transfixed with horror ; they did 
 not know the magazine was there, and ere they re-
 
 DANGEROUS AMUSEMENTS. 127 
 
 covered from their stupor, the vault exploded ; the 
 building was shattered to pieces, and the dancers 
 were hurled into a fearful eternity. 
 
 Thus will it be in the final day. Men will be as 
 careless as were those ill-fated revellers. Methinks 
 the hour has come, and I stand upon an eminence 
 from which I behold the vices and amusements of 
 earth. I warn them, and tell them, that hi such an 
 hour as they think not, the son of man cometh. With 
 jeering laugh, they ask, " Where is the promise of 
 his coming ?" I bid them prepare to meet their God. 
 They reply, " Pleasure is our God." I tell them of 
 an awful judgment ; a miserable eternity ; and crying 
 " priestcraft," they again engage in the noisy revel. 
 Soon an awful rumbling is heard in the heavens. A 
 thousand voices tell them, that the angels are rolling 
 out the judgment throne. They reply, " One dance 
 more, and defiance to that throne." Suddenly the 
 stars go out, the moon turns to blood, all nature is 
 convulsed, and universal panic seizes the hearts of all 
 men, when, horror struck, I see some Carnot, turn 
 his bloodshot eyes upon the burning world, and wav- 
 ing his jeweled hand above his head, exclaim, " One 
 dance more, and defiance to that flame," and ere 
 that dance is done, the bolt is sped, the magazine 
 of the universe explodes, and the time to dance is 
 gone, GONE FOREVER, FOREVER.
 
 LECTURE VI. 
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 
 
 FOB EICHE8 ARE NOT FOREVER; AND DOTH THE CBOWN EN- 
 DURE TO EVERY GENERATION? Proverbs 27 : 24. 
 
 FEW men have had a clearer view of the entire 
 emptiness of all worldly good, than the writer of the 
 book of Proverbs. He had measured the world in 
 which he lived, and gauged its depths of happiness. 
 He had ascended the highest pinnacle of human ob- 
 servation, and gazed upon all the pursuits and plea- 
 sures of mankind. He had wandered up and down 
 the world, and found in the cottage and the palace, 
 the same unsatisfying and unsubstantial bliss. He 
 had secured riches, honor, friends, and pleasure, but 
 amid them all, he could not forget that he was mor- 
 tal. Like a wise man, he endeavored to profit by 
 what he learned, and instead of placing his whole de- 
 pendence on fleeting and transitory possessions, sought 
 by divine aid, the riches of incorruptible and imperish- 
 able worth.
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 129 
 
 
 
 The results of his meditations, he has given us in 
 the book which has been so appropriately designated, 
 " The Book of Proverbs." In that book is gathered 
 the full experience of a man who had an intimate ac- 
 quaintance with human life, and who from the cradle 
 to the grave had studied it ; an experience given in a 
 form, at once calculated to attract the attention and 
 benefit the reader ; a book of sentences and senti- 
 ments, the whole of which constitutes one of the most 
 beautiful systems of moral ethics, which was ever 
 placed in the hands of a young man. The extract 
 from that book which I have read as my text, will be 
 the basis of a lecture this evening upon WEALTH AND 
 
 FAME. 
 
 I would not, of course, be understood to condemn 
 the acquisition of wealth, or the pursuit of fame, alto- 
 gether. I would not wish to check one laudable de- 
 sire for the things of life, or quench a single aspiration 
 of the mind for the applause of others. There is 
 nothing wrong in the accumulation of property ; there 
 is nothing wrong in a desire to have our deeds ap- 
 proved by our fellow-men. Some of the best and 
 purest men of the world have been men of vast for- 
 tunes and unbounded fame, and that man who de- 
 spises either of them, exhibits his folly. The only 
 caution which the Bible gives, is, that we use them 
 well, and not be inordinately attached to them. It 
 sanctions the pursuit of riches to a proper degree, 
 9
 
 130 ^ THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 and informs us that the love of money, and not 
 money itself, is the root of all evil. Placed as we 
 are in this world, it is our duty to secure property, if 
 we can by honest and laudable means. God has 
 made our comfort and convenience in this life some- 
 what dependent on riches. He has surrounded us 
 with wants and wishes which money alone can gratify, 
 and in a hundred ways pointed out to us the propriety 
 of laboring for the useful and necessary means of sub- 
 sistence. A proper and praiseworthy desire to have 
 a competency is not a sin. It has nothing in it of a 
 miserly character, and has been encouraged and al- 
 lowed by God in all ages of the world. Those young 
 men, therefore, who are honestly laboring to amass 
 wealth, in hope that it will make them more use- 
 ful in life, and help them better to benefit man, and 
 glorify God, are doing right, and deserve the encour- 
 agement of the wise and good. They only are to be 
 condemned, who are striving to grow rich by dishonest 
 means, or, who after having secured property, use it 
 for their own selfish gratification. I may be mistaken, 
 but I think God looks from heaven with pleasure upon 
 the busy crowds of human life, who are diligent in 
 business, and amassing property that they may spend 
 it in his service. I am well aware that gold has a 
 tendency to corrupt the heart, and as a general thing, 
 a man's soul becomes frozen and deathlike to just the 
 extent of his riches ; but this arises wholly from the
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 131 
 
 fact that money is perverted from its legitimate use, 
 that it is made the occasion of sin, that it is loved 
 more than the Being who gave it. You will there- 
 fore remember, as I pass through this lecture, that I 
 condemn only an inordinate desire for riches. 
 
 The same remarks may he made of fame. Fame 
 is denned to be a favorable report of one's character ; 
 praise given to a man because of his real or supposed 
 good deeds. Certainly nothing can be wrong in a 
 desire for this. God has created us with a disposi- 
 tion to please our fellow men, and receive their appro- 
 val. And this we find to be one of the ties which 
 bind society together. But for this, man would act 
 without regard to the feelings of his neighbors, and 
 human life would become one wild scene of contention 
 and confusion. The desire to be respected by our 
 fellow men, is a proper desire. It restrains from vice 
 hundreds, who but for this, would rush into sin. It 
 leads to self-respect, and is one of the pillars of hu- 
 man character. Strike it down, and you remove one 
 of the strong inducements to virtue, and leave the 
 young without a motive which now operates in behalf 
 of morality with tremendous force. Instead there- 
 fore of checking the desire to please others, it should 
 be encouraged. The young should be taught that 
 self-respect, and the respect of community, are both 
 essential to success in life, and early led by honesty, 
 rectitude, and piety, to gain the confidence and ea-
 
 132 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 teem of society. But fame is not always pursued for 
 this purpose alone. Like money, it has its worship- 
 pers who are determined to secure it, at the hazard 
 of all the other blessings of this life, and the richer 
 blessings of the life to come. With many, fame has 
 changed into a frightful ambition, absorbing all the 
 more lovely and amiable traits of character, and 
 changing man into a blinded, deluded admirer of a 
 fantom which will disappear in an hour. 
 
 Thus money and fame, instead of being the bless- 
 ings which God designed, become sources of iniquity, 
 upon which He must look with peculiar disapproba- 
 tion and displeasure. You will allow me therefore to 
 offer a few remarks at this time, upon the folly of an 
 inordinate attachment to wealth and fame. 
 
 1. They are fluctuating and uncertain. All who 
 have observed the progress of the world's great 
 changes, must have felt the fearful uncertainty of 
 earthly honors and emoluments. Though all past 
 history has had its changes, and the record of every 
 nation is full of tokens of falling greatness, yet to 
 our times has been left the task of proving most con- 
 clusively to the charmed and cheated world, that all 
 earthly honor, and ambition, and riches, are as fluc- 
 tuating and unstable as the tossed waves of the foam- 
 ing sea. The last half century has been full of 
 changes, in both private and public life. Single for- 
 tunes, and the fortunes of nations, have been gained
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 133 
 
 and lost. Private individuals and public men have 
 risen to stations of honor and opulence, and fallen as 
 suddenly. The world has been dazzled bj meteors, 
 which have flashed athwart the sky, and disappeared, 
 leaving the world in darkness. Perhaps there never 
 has been a time of such political and commercial em- 
 barrassment and change. The whole world seems to 
 be resting on the hollow bosom of a volcano. Sta- 
 bility is found nowhere. The church and the state 
 are heaving with internal disorders. Life is con- 
 vulsed, and the shaking pillars of human society at- 
 test the precarious character of all earthly ambition. 
 Similar changes to those which are occurring in great 
 states and nations, are found in every department of 
 life, though on a smaller scale. From the tradesman 
 who acts upon his narrow capital of a few hundred 
 dollars, up through all the ranks of wealth to the man 
 who sports and jests with thousands, and is in earnest 
 only when he deals with millions, there is commotion. 
 From the little province, which has scarcely found a 
 place upon the map, and whose insignificance has de- 
 nied it a record on the pages of history, up to the 
 great kingdoms whose thrones turn upon the world's 
 centre, and whose political economy is interwoven 
 with the very texture of civilized life, there have been 
 agitating and distressing changes. 
 
 Men who a few years ago, were rich and increased 
 in goods, having need of nothing, are now bankrupt ;
 
 134 THE YOUNG MAN'S FBIEND. 
 
 their fortunes are scattered to the winds of heaven, 
 their rich estates are occupied by others, their proud 
 mansions are inhabited by those who awhile since 
 lived in poverty, and all the tokens of their former 
 wealth are gone. Men who not long ago, heard 
 their names chanted by an admiring crowd of human 
 beings, now hear them pronounced with scorn and de- 
 rision. Sovereigns who imagined themselves seated 
 securely on their thrones, have been driven into vaga- 
 bondage, and now are eating the bread of disgrace 
 and poverty. Kings have become slaves, and slaves 
 are changed to kings. The wheel of fortune is turn- 
 ing every hour, and those who are in affluence to-day, 
 know not where they will be to-morrow. To illustrate 
 the point more clearly, I will refer to a few changes 
 which have occurred in France, a nation which at the 
 present time is drawing considerable attention, a na- 
 tion which has seen as many fearful revolutions as 
 perhaps any other on the globe, and been as often 
 deluged in blood and crime. 
 
 A little more than fifty years ago, Louis XVI. 
 was seated firmly upon the throne of that ill-fated 
 kingdom. His reign Avas a weak, but splendid one. 
 He had assumed the reins of government under 
 favorable auspices, and for awhile was the idol of 
 the people. His court was the centre of beauty, 
 fashion, and splendor, and he rode upon the full tide 
 of popular applause. If we could have looked upon
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 135 
 
 the monarch then, we should have regarded his case 
 as one of the best specimens of permanent power. 
 He seemed so strongly entrenched in the affections 
 of the people, so honored by the esteem of other na- 
 tions, so surrounded by servile armies, so favored by 
 the god of wealth, that none would have predicted his 
 sad end. But the wave of popularity which attended 
 him in the early part of his administration, and bore 
 him on to fortune, was deceitful. The voice which 
 shouted his name with rapture, was calling for his 
 blood. Honored as he was, wealthy as he had been, 
 he found but a single step from the monarch's throne 
 to the block of the malefactor ; but one step from the 
 emoluments of office, and the kingly prerogatives, to 
 the death of ignominy. The heaving storm of revo- 
 lution fell not on him alone. His beautiful, accom- 
 plished, and high-born queen, Marie- Antoinette, fol- 
 lowed him to the scaffold. Bound on a cart, sitting 
 on the coffin which she was soon to fill with her cold 
 corpse, she roti^e along, the widow of a beheaded king, 
 to her own execution. Crowds of men and women, 
 who had followed her with admiration not long before, 
 lined the streets through which she passed, but offered 
 no assistance, and uttered no sympathy ; and when 
 her trunkless head was elevated on a pike before 
 their eyes, they shouted, " The tyrants have fallen." 
 Scarcely had this wild scene passed away, ere Na- 
 poleon Bonaparte emerged from his obscurity, and by
 
 136 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 extraordinary energy lifted himself into the affections 
 of the people, and the offices of trust. From one 
 step to another, -he ascended, until the imperial crown 
 was placed by his own hands upon his head. Each 
 succeeding month clustered new glory around his ad- 
 ministration, and he soon became the master of Eu- 
 rope, the wonder of the world. He made kings, and 
 deposed them. He sported with thrones and states, 
 as a child with the leaves of a broken flower. He 
 had wealth, fame, glory, success, all of them. But 
 alas ! earthly greatness is precarious. In one day, 
 the glory of his arms became dim, the lustre of his 
 crown faded, the sceptre fell from his palsied hand, 
 and he fled, an exile and a wanderer to a distant 
 home. How strikingly does his short, eventful life, 
 exhibit the vanity of human ambition. A monarch 
 yesterday ; to-day a slave. Yesterday, flushed with 
 conquest, a continent fleeing before him ; to-day phi- 
 ing in solitude, and perhaps poisoned by the govern- 
 ment into whose hand he had given himself for pro- 
 tection. 
 
 Then followed ~ Louis Philippe, the golden monarch. 
 He deemed wealth and fame substantial, when found- 
 .ed on standing armies, and on the ignorance of the 
 people. Hence, he suppressed all revolutionary pub- 
 lications, enlarged his standing army, procured a bul- 
 letproof coach, doubled his guard, and made his 
 pcwer appear invincible and his throne impregnable.
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 137 
 
 But in an hour the tide of change swept them 
 all away. The throne was torn from its place, and 
 burned in the streets of Paris, the sceptre was broken 
 to pieces by an infuriated mob, the signs of royalty 
 were scattered before the wild commotion, and the 
 king and his family fled into exile, without money 
 enough in his purse to purchase a change of garment. 
 
 Other nations of the earth, though not so promi- 
 nent as the one to which I have referred, are all 
 undergoing, more or less, really the same process. 
 Scarcely a throne in Europe is secure, and fame and 
 wealth are found to be as uncertain as the whistling 
 wind. Even ecclesiastical fame, and the revenue 
 which is drawn from extensive church organizations 
 are not sure. We see a potentate, who has claimed 
 to be the " Vicegerent of God," driven from the epis- 
 copal palace, and seeking a home in a dishonored 
 and unknown spot. 
 
 Nor in our own country, is wealth and fame more 
 certain. Some who live and move among us, clad in 
 rags and poverty, were born heirs of extensive pos- 
 sessions, but those possessions have wasted away. 
 As a general thing a fortune runs itself out, ere it 
 reaches the fourth generation, and often a single life- 
 tune is sufficient to change the pecuniary circum- 
 stances of a multitude of men. A single failure 
 will sometimes involve a hundred firms in rum, and 
 lead down a hundred families to abject poverty. A
 
 138 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 single conflagration which sweeps along the crowded 
 streets of a city, consuming property, will often de- 
 stroy the hard earnings of many years, and leave 
 toiling men to die in sorrow, destitute of enough to 
 purchase a winding-sheet. Human life is one con- 
 stant scene of migration from affluence to poverty, a 
 shifting panorama of good and evil. 
 
 Nor does fame in republics, have anything more 
 of stability, than wealth. Each year presents us with 
 new candidates for popular applause, and consigns 
 the favorites of previous years to oblivion. Our po- 
 litical ingratitude is a marked feature of our national 
 history. Men who have toiled long and well, are 
 denounced for some difference in political opinion, 
 and their places in the government and in halls of 
 legislation, filled with those who have no claim to 
 popular favor. And thus it will continue to be, while 
 the human mind remains the same as at present, and 
 he who is dependent upon the mad shout of the popu- 
 lace, which is as unstable as water, will soon find that 
 his station is one of precarious and doubtful character. 
 In the times of Christ, our divine Saviour, he was 
 made the object of ridicule at one time, and of praise 
 at another time. His reputation was tossed upon 'the 
 wave of inconstant human passion, and his name 
 shouted at one period with rapture, and at another 
 period with derision. He lived, the sport of chang- 
 ing man ; he died, the victim of popular indignation.
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 139 
 
 He heard the shout, " Hosanna, hosanna, to the Son 
 of David ;" and the cry, " Crucify him, crucify him," 
 sounded in his ears, as it was echoed out by the same 
 multitude. 
 
 Such being the precarious character of wealth and 
 fame, I would suggest that they be not made the 
 chief objects of pursuit. There is a purer wealth, 
 there is a more exalted honor, which cometh down 
 from heaven. While I would urge a proper interest 
 in the acquisition of property and a good character, I 
 would suggest that wealth and honor are needed La 
 the world to come, and if these be ours, the failure to 
 secure temporal wealth and applause will be of but 
 little consequence. 
 
 2. TJiey fail to secure permanent happiness. Long 
 ago it was proved that things external cannot se- 
 cure permanent peace and pleasure. 
 
 " The conscious mind is its own awful world," 
 
 and if this is in commotion, no external circumstances 
 can give it rest. Hence we have found some of our 
 most wealthy men to be the most miserable of all. 
 Surrounded by all the charms of luxury and splendor, 
 having every wish gratified, and every desire fulfilled, 
 they walk on earth the moving monuments of woe. 
 The notion is a false one, that happiness depends upon 
 wealth. It is not true, that our most wealthy men 
 are the most happy. Facts are against it. Riches
 
 140 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 must be attended with care and sorrow, and gene- 
 rally, the more wealth a man has, the fewer will be 
 his hours of pleasure. I doubt whether the man who 
 has thousands at command, who is enabled to look 
 abroad upon extensive fields, and watch for returning 
 vessels, is as happy as the day laborer, who owns 
 not the roof which covers him, and who knows not 
 how long he shall have food for his children. The 
 one, has riches and crushing cares ; the other, has 
 penury and peace. The one trusts in his laden ship, 
 in the income of his stocks, in the safety of his invest- 
 ments ; the other, trusts the God who heareth the 
 young ravens when they cry, and looks for food and 
 raiment to the 
 
 " Glorious Giver, who doeth all things well." 
 
 Nor will fame secure peace of mind, and give rest to 
 the troubled conscience. Men have tried it, and 
 failed. They have secured the breath of popular ap- 
 plause, they have heard their names mingled with 
 sweet strains of music, but found the heart within, 
 restless and unsatisfied. The highest pinnacle of 
 earthly ambition has been attained, but the " aching 
 void" has not been filled, nor can it be. As well 
 might we attempt to satisfy the desire for food with 
 husks and thorns, as to satisfy the longings of immor- 
 tality with the transient and unmeaning praises of an 
 excited crowd. It is said of Alexander, that when
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 141 
 
 he had secured the world's homage, and covered the 
 earth with the fame of his conquests, he sat down and 
 wept, because there were no more kingdoms and 
 states to conquer. He had wealth, fame, glory ; but 
 they did not give him happiness. Had he found 
 another world and made himself master of it, he 
 would have been no nearer the point at which he 
 aimed. Other men whose fame has been world-wide, 
 have given unequivocal evidence, that they had no 
 enjoyment in the things around them, and fame and 
 riches instead of being sources of pleasure, have 
 proved to be sources of sorrow and distress. We are 
 sadly deceived in respect to these things. There is a 
 glitter, a splendor, around the rich man's gold ; there 
 is a charm to applause and honor, which cheats the 
 blinded throng. The headache and the heart-ache, 
 cometh alike to rich and poor, noble and ignoble. 
 All the gold which can be found in yonder newly dis- 
 covered mines, cannot drive away the sorrow which 
 unbidden and uncalled, will rush into the temple of 
 the soul. The loudest blast of Fame's burnished 
 trumpet, cannot make melody to a heart oppressed 
 with sorrow, and bowed with guilt. Go ask the 
 Astors, Brookses, Lawrences, and others, who have 
 accumulated large fortunes, and they will tell you, 
 that the mere possession of wealth, is not the promi- 
 nent source of pleasure, that they were as happy when 
 they were poor men, as when their fortunes had in-
 
 142 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 creased to millions. Go ask the proudest military 
 chieftain that ever drew a sword, or put a trumpet 
 to his lips ; go ask the man most famed for wisdom, 
 skill, and eloquence, and they will both tell you, that 
 fame is an empty blast, and has no power to satisfy 
 the cravings of a deathless soul. Gather in one spa- 
 cious apartment all the wealthy ones, and the honor- 
 ed of the earth, and you will find no class of men in 
 the wide world who bear so many marks of care, and 
 wear so many traces of sorrow, as do these favored 
 sons of Adam. 
 
 " It is the mind that makes the body rich ; 
 And as the sun breaks through the darkest clouds, 
 So honor peereth in the meanest habit ; 
 What ! is the jay more precious than the lark, 
 Because his feathers are more beautiful ? 
 And is the adder better than the eel, 
 Because his painted skin contents the eye." 
 
 Certainly not ! Nor is the man of wealth and fame, 
 more truly great, and wise, and happy, because he is 
 more favored than his fellows. Wealth and fame, are 
 often like the feathers of the jay, and the skin of the 
 adder, given irrespective of a man's virtues or vices. 
 The pleasant plumage, does not make the jay sing 
 more sweetly ; the painted skin, does not detract from 
 the poisonous nature of the adder. The adder is the 
 adder still, with all his beauty ; and the rich man 
 with all his \realth and honor, remains a poor sorrow-
 
 WEALTH AND TAME. 143 
 
 stricken child of earth. Tell me, ye youthful aspi- 
 rants for gold and silver, ye who are disposed to leave 
 home and friends, and all the endearments of civilized 
 life, tell me, what a fortune is worth, which cannot 
 purchase exemption from a single pain of body, a sin- 
 gle sorrow of the heart ? Tell me, what the plaudits 
 of the world are worth which cannot ease the guilty 
 conscience, or wipe away one stain of guilt ? 
 
 3. Unreasonably loved, they lead to crime. I have 
 shown that wealth may be acquired, and fame pur- 
 sued, to a certain extent. Well would it be for man, 
 if he would stop where God has set the bounds, but 
 in many cases he will not. The mind which is bent 
 on fame, will pursue it at the hazard of all that is 
 truly good. This we have seen in all past history. 
 Principle has been sacrificed, true nobility of soul 
 trodden under foot, the rights of man disregarded, 
 the interests of the undying soul placed in jeopardy, 
 that some ambitious tyrant might have his name 
 recorded 
 
 " Among the few immortal ones, 
 That were not born to die." 
 
 Wealth has been sought at the same sacrifice, and 
 many to gain it, have lost all that is really valuable. 
 Well does the word of God declare, that " The love 
 of money is the root of all evil." It makes the rob- 
 ber, the gambler, the murderer. It leads to all kinds
 
 144 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 of crime and degradation. A "haste to be rich," 
 has filled the world with dishonesty and fraud, and 
 plunged many into eternity, covered with the foulest 
 crimes. Hence, our desires on this point cannot be 
 too carefully controlled. An inordinate desire to se- 
 cure the applause of the world, will lead to an aban- 
 donment of the great principles of right and integrity. 
 Under the present constitution of things, a man can- 
 not be universally popular, without lowering the stan- 
 dard of his character. A truly good man, the people 
 are not yet prepared to love. Popular opinion is di- 
 vided, and the "baser sort" will not honor a man 
 who stands up against their crimes, in the dignity of 
 a pure character. Hence, we find that all good men 
 have their enemies, all virtuous men their opposers. 
 Christ, our great example, was called " Beelzebub," 
 and harsher terms have been applied to the members 
 of his household. Consequently the great temptation 
 to young men is, to relinquish their independence of 
 character, bow to the discordant elements which are 
 around them, and purchase at such a price, the favor 
 of the world. This is especially the case with politi- 
 cal men. Communities change so frequently, that 
 our public men are kept turning continually, until we 
 scarcely know where to find a man, who has become 
 deeply entangled in the intricacies of party politics. 
 
 In like manner, an absorbing desire for gold, will 
 lead to fatal results. He who is determined to be
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 145 
 
 rich at any sacrifice, who places wealth before him as 
 the chief aim of his being, will soon cease to hesitate 
 in regard to methods of securing it. If he cannot 
 gam it by lawful industry, he will resort to fraud 
 and deception, crime and woe. A large amount of 
 the dishonesty of the present day, may be traced back 
 to the love of money, and the unscrupulous means 
 taken to secure it. Better be poor, than rich at the 
 sacrifice of honesty. Better toil day and night, and 
 eat the bread of poverty, than have a passion for gold 
 which will corrupt the heart, canker the soul, and 
 lead to the commission of foul and horrid crimes. 
 
 " Oh cursed love of gold ; when for thy sake 
 The fool throws up his interest in both worlds ; 
 First starved in this, then damn'd in that to come." 
 
 4. They are brief as human life. Were we on 
 a journey through a strange country, and stopping 
 here and there, only for a night, we should deem our 
 accommodations of small importance ; we should not 
 think of fitting up in a costly manner, a house in which 
 we should remain but a few hours. Human life is a 
 journey through a strange land. Our home is be- 
 yond it, far away. Each object we behold is a 
 monitor, pointing us downward to the grave in which 
 our ashes will soon repose. Is it not vain, then, for 
 us to give our whole attention to wealth and fame ? 
 We cannot carry them with us into the grave. The 
 10
 
 146 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 rich and poor are alike in the coffin, and all the fame 
 of earth will make no difference in the world to which 
 we are hastening. I have read of a man who was 
 rich on earth. He fared sumptuously every day. 
 He was clothed with purple and fine linen. He rode 
 in his chariot. He reveled in wealth and splendor. 
 But death, the common enemy, visited his splendid 
 abode, and hurried him away. He took no gold, no 
 silver, with him. His chariot he left behind. His 
 magnificence, pomp, and distinction, were ah 1 of the 
 earth. In that other world, he was miserably poor. 
 He had no home. On the waves of an angry sea his 
 soul, was tempest driven. He had no pillow but the 
 wave of fire, and in vain he prayed for a cup of water 
 to cool his parched tongue. I have read of another 
 man, who sat at that same rich man's gate, full of 
 sores, and covered with wounds. He was poor, very 
 poor. But in time, he died. Angels caught his 
 spirit, and carried it up to a world of bliss. All 
 was changed. In an hour, he had become wealthy, 
 honored, and supremely blest. There is an anecdote 
 circulating widely in the papers of the day, which 
 although old, so strikingly illustrates the vanity and 
 brevity of wealth and fame, that I will give it in the 
 language of another : "In the middle of the eleventh 
 century, there arose a Mohammedan prince in Egypt, 
 by the name of Saladin. Ascending the throne of
 
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 147 
 
 the ancient Pharaohs, and guiding the Moslem armies, 
 he rolled back the tide of European invasion, with 
 which the Crusaders were inundating the holy land. 
 His legislative genius constituted him the glory of his 
 own country, while his military exploits inspired Chris- 
 tendom with the terror of his arms. The wealth of the 
 Orient was in his lap, the fate of millions hung upon 
 his lips, and one half of the world was at his disposal. 
 "At last death, the common conqueror of ah 1 , came 
 to smite the crown from the brow, and to dash the 
 sceptre of this mighty monarch. As he lay upon his 
 dying bed, looking back upon the visions of earthly 
 glory, fast flitting away, and looking forward into 
 the impenetrable future, his soul was overwhelmed 
 with those emotions which must under such circum- 
 stances, agitate the bosom of every thinking being. 
 For a long time, his unbroken silence, indicated the 
 deep absorption of his thoughts, by the new subjects 
 which now engrossed his spirit. At last, rousing 
 himself from his reverie, with that firm voice which 
 ever was accustomed to be obeyed, he said : ' Pre- 
 pare, and bring me my winding sheet.' It was im- 
 mediately done, as commanded, and the winding sheet 
 was unfolded before him. The dying Sultan gazed 
 upon it, long and silently, and then added : ' Bring 
 here the banner around which my chosen guards have 
 rallied in my victories.' The banner was presented 
 at the royal couch, and all in silence awaited the
 
 148 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 further direction of the monarch. He paused a mo- 
 ment, and said, ' Remove those silken folds, and at- 
 tach to the staff in their stead, the winding sheet.' 
 It was done with the promptitude with which the 
 orders of the Sultan ever were obeyed. The dimmed 
 eye of the dying monarch gazed upon the mournful 
 emblem of mortality, as it hung from the staff around 
 which he had rallied his legions on the field of blood, 
 and added : ' Let the crier, accompanied by the mu- 
 sicians, in a funeral dirge, pass through all the streets 
 of Damascus, and at every corner, wave this banner 
 and proclaim, ' This is all that remains to the mighty 
 Saladin /' 
 
 " Then was there seen such a procession, as the 
 imperial city had never witnessed before. Gathered 
 in front of the portals of the palace were the musi- 
 cians, the crier, with the strange banner, and the 
 military escort, doing homage to this memorial of 
 death. Silence pervaded the thronged city as the 
 wailings of the dirge floated mournfully through its 
 long streets. The crowds in silent awe gathered at 
 the corners. Suddenly the dirge dies away, and all 
 is still. The hearts of the people almost cease to 
 beat, as the cold white sheet, soon to enshroud their 
 monarch's limbs, is waved before them. Not a sound 
 disturbs the silent city, as the clear voice of the crier 
 proclaimed, * This is all that remains to the mighty 
 Saladin /' Again the soul-moving strains of the re-
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 149 
 
 quiem vibrate through the air, and the procession 
 moves along its melancholy way. As the stars came 
 out at night, the spirit of the monarch took its flight, 
 and the winding sheet enshrouded his limbs, still in 
 death. Seven hundred years since that, have rolled 
 away, and what now remains to the great monarch of 
 the East ? Not even a handful of dust can tell us, 
 where was his sepulchre." 
 
 Look young friends, over the earth, and witness 
 the pursuits of men. See how they chase the fan- 
 torn shapes, which the god of this world sends, but to 
 delude and destroy. They strive for fame. They 
 dig for gold. And how long, think you, it will be, 
 ere the winding sheet will be all that remains to each 
 of them ? Let them fill their coffers, let them secure 
 the applause of the good and bad of earth, let them 
 be all they wish to be, and the common conqueror will 
 spoil the vision in an hour. How wise was that mon- 
 arch, who employed a page to remind him, at certain 
 hours every day, that he was but a man. Wherever 
 he was, under whatever circumstances, surrounded 
 by his court, in his study, or in the feast-chamber 
 amid the revelers, the page whispered in his master's 
 ear, " Philip, thou art mortal." 
 
 Need we monitors to remind us of this ? We have 
 them. See you, that star, which twinkles and goes 
 out ; the sun which shines awhile, and sinks behind 
 the western hills ; the leaf which falls when autumn
 
 150 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 
 
 comes ; the shuttle, the cloud, the dew. Daily, 
 hourly, they whisper in our ears, " Thou art mortal" 
 And shall we heed the warning or not ? Shall we 
 give to Vanity, or God, our noble powers, our price- 
 less time ? Shall we strive to be honored with ap- 
 plause which will die away ere we have crumbled to 
 pieces in the grave ? Shall we be rich only in the 
 treasures of one short fleeting life ? Shall we be 
 among those who despise honest toil, and imitate the 
 man, 
 
 " Who lord of millions, trembles for his store, 
 And fears to give a farthing to the poor ; 
 Proclaims that penury will be his fate, 
 And scowling, looks on charity with hate. 
 
 No, we have a higher calling. The acquisition of 
 property is not the great end of our being. We have 
 been formed to do good to others, and act a holy 
 part in the reformation of mankind. Around this 
 employment hovers a true dignity, gathers a real 
 splendor. Riches are not forever, and the crown will 
 not endure to all generations, but the glory of doing 
 a kind and lovely act, will follow us beyond the sepul- 
 chre ; and when wealth has crumbled around our 
 tomb, and fame has died away along the shores of 
 time, the solemn employments of this life will rise up 
 to gladden the heart, and throw a charm over the 
 pages of imperishable memory. Dig not into the 
 bowels of the earth for that which is truly good, but,
 
 WEALTH AND FAME. 151 
 
 look upward to thy God ! "With him all is pure, no- 
 ble, wise, honorable, while all beneath the skies is 
 vanity. The crown will fall from the monarch's head ; 
 the sceptre will drop from his palsied hand ; the 
 throne will crumble and decay ; wealth will take to 
 itself wings and fly away ; all earth's greatness will 
 perish, and the king, the pampered child of opulence, 
 the learned philosopher, the senator, the priest, the 
 gifted and the noble, must seek shelter in a narrow, 
 dark, loathsome sepulchre. Death will stand unap- 
 palled before the man at whose word earth turned 
 pale ; he cares not for royal forms ; he will not be 
 bribed by wealth. 
 
 " Earth's highest station ends in ' here he lies,' 
 And dust to dust concludes her noblest song."
 
 LECTURE VII. 
 
 GAMBLING. 
 
 IS KOT THY WICKEDNESS GREAT ? AND THINE INIQUITIES IN- 
 FINITE 1 FOR THOU HAST TAKEN A PLEDGE FROM THT 
 BROTHER FOR NOUGHT, AND STRIPPED THE WAKED OF 
 THEIR CLOTHING. Job 22: 5, 6. 
 
 WHATEVER may have been the peculiar signifi- 
 cance of these words, as used by Eliphaz the Te- 
 manite, we shall find them no less appropriate when 
 applied to gambling and the gambler. This vice, 
 which I propose to make the subject of discourse this 
 evening, does indeed rob the naked of their clothing, 
 and secures the pledge without rendering an equiva- 
 lent. More effectively than intemperance, or slavery, 
 or war, it cheats its victims, and destroys their souls. 
 It is a system of polite robbery, genteel murder, and 
 fashionable suicide. 
 
 Gambling consists in receiving property without 
 rendering a just equivalent. Every game of hazard, 
 from the turning coppers of the ragged urchin by the
 
 GAMBLING. 153 
 
 
 
 wayside, to the stake of the hoary man, who lays his 
 whole fortune upon the table, and risks it all ; from 
 the first cast of the novice, to the game by which the 
 winner's coffers are filled in one hour, is gambling. 
 From the insipid game of the jewelled female, to the 
 carousal of the deformed, misshapen man ; from the 
 parlor, with its glittering lamps, its sweet music, and 
 its lovely occupants, to the game played in the haunt 
 of woe, where an old wheelbarrow answers for the ta- 
 ble, and rude blocks for chairs, it is ah 1 gambling. 
 Lottery prizes, betting, and the like contrivances to 
 secure property without earning it, are all included 
 in the list of gambling operations, and alike deserve 
 the disapprobation of community. 
 
 I am well aware that many men who stand high in 
 society, are engaged in this vice. I know that many 
 buildings which rear their fronts proudly, in our 
 large cities, have been erected or purchased with 
 money thus obtained. I know that the stock of 
 goods in many a store, is the product of this very 
 crime. But does this fact change the nature of 
 gambling ? Not at all. Respectable men cannot 
 make it a respectable vocation ; gold has no trans- 
 forming influence over it ; silver cannot cover its 
 hideousness ; music cannot drown its wails of woe. 
 Death clatters with the dice, and damnation stares 
 out from the winner's card. All the efforts which are 
 made to make this vice attractive to the virtuous pop-
 
 154 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 tion of community, only renders it more disgusting 
 and odious, gives it new features of hate and decep- 
 tion, and secures for it the name of fraud and corrup- 
 tion. Indeed, the law recognizes gambling as a crime, 
 and in many places all its resorts and haunts, are 
 closed by the officer of justice. And so it should be. 
 There is no propriety in penetrating the cave of the 
 midnight robber, the hovel of the forger, the den of 
 the assassin, and dragging them away to the halls of 
 justice, while the gambling saloons of our large cities 
 are left to do their work of destruction, beggary, and 
 death. There is no propriety in condemning and im- 
 prisoning the poor man, who in the urgency of the 
 case, steals a loaf of bread to feed his starving wife 
 and children, while gambling, which is a wholesale 
 system of theft, is left to impoverish community and 
 destroy the characters of our fellow-citizens. To in- 
 duce you to loathe and abhor this vice, I will now of- 
 fer upon it, a few remarks to which I request your 
 attention. 
 
 1. Gambling is a monstrous system of prodigality. 
 Money has its uses. Properly employed it is like 
 time and education, a blessing. Rightly used, it ena- 
 bles us to do good and become extensively useful in 
 the world around us. But if a man would waste a 
 fortune, let him become a gambler. If he would in 
 the shortest tune, scatter the earnings of years, let 
 him resort to the gay saloon, and engage in games of
 
 GAMBLING. 155 
 
 chance, and drink in the dear delights of the gam- 
 bler's purgatory. You have only to look around you, 
 and on every hand will present themselves to your 
 gaze, the wrecks of fortunes w' jch were once deemed 
 inexhaustible. You have only to go out into society 
 to find men who started life with thousands at com- 
 mand, but who have now no home, no fortune, no 
 happiness. The gambler inevitably becomes a ruined 
 man. He may win for a time, he may fill his purse 
 with his ill-gotten gains, but the unseen hand will 
 sweep them away, and leave him penniless. I know 
 that men begin to gamble with a very different 
 opinion. They want wealth, and deem the game of 
 chance the best method of securing it. They set sail 
 upon the sea of guilt with the idea of becoming rich 
 without labor or toil. But how sadly does experience 
 controvert this sentiment. Gambling, instead of be- 
 ing the royal road to fortune, proves to be the path 
 to houseless, homeless poverty. Instead of being the 
 flower-blooming way to affluence, it is found to be the 
 thorn-planted road to crime and disgrace. I am 
 aware that men are found here and there, who have 
 riches obtained by this crime. Some live and die, all 
 surrounded with the wealth thus gotten. But these 
 are the exceptions to the general principle, and form 
 no argument in favor of such crimes. God seems to 
 have forgotten them. He allows them to go on in 
 the work of accumulation, until they are as rich as
 
 156 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 Dives, with hearts as hard and frozen as was his. 
 Poverty, shame, wretchedness, are the almost univer- 
 sal results of gambling, and hundreds and thousands 
 who have practised it, have found too late, their fatal 
 mistake. Hence when we see a young man begin- 
 ning to gamble, we may set him down as two-thirds 
 ruined. If he be a merchant or a tradesman, you 
 may expect erelong to hear of his failure. If he be 
 a mechanic, or a lawyer, or a physician, you may cal- 
 culate to find him ere many years are gone, in a 
 mad-house, or a prison. You may depend upon his 
 ruin with almost mathematical certainty. Like a 
 fearful vortex, which swallows up every vessel which 
 comes within the influence of its fatal circles, so gam- 
 bling will swallow up every fortune upon which it can 
 fix its gorgon eye, or lay its withering hand. Be not 
 deceived ! Think not that gold will fill thy purse ! 
 The home of gambling is the home of prodigality and 
 poverty, where men who have been accustomed to 
 roll in splendor, learn to feed on husks, and bite the 
 dust of despair. If, therefore, you would avoid 
 failure in business, poverty in your family, disgrace 
 in society, and misery in hell, avoid the table of the 
 gambler as you would the den of villany. 
 
 2. Gambling excites, intoxicates, and maddens the 
 brain. The young man who is about entering upon 
 the practice of the vice which we are discussing, sup- 
 poses that he has perfect control over himself, and
 
 GAMBLING. 157 
 
 can leave the table at any time, stay from it if he 
 wishes, and return to it when he chooses. But this 
 is not the case. The gambler is not his own man. 
 When once he has entered the fatal path, he is im- 
 pelled by an irresistible impulse. There is no stop- 
 ing-place. Borne onward almost unconsciously, he 
 loses command of himself, and with rapid strides has- 
 tens to his own ruin. Frequently, one night is suffi- 
 cient to accomplish the work of destruction. Let us 
 examine the process for a moment. A young man 
 comes to our large cities from his distant home, with 
 a few hundred dollars in his pocket. With the busy 
 throng of living beings, he has no acquaintance. He 
 spends his days in labor, and when night comes, sighs 
 for some congenial spirits, with whom he may asso- 
 ciate. He wanders out to find them. The church 
 is dark, and its doors are closed. The hall of science 
 rears its front, but no living orator attracts the pass- 
 ing crowd. Everywhere, his ears are saluted with 
 deep rumbling sounds, like distant thunder, and the 
 lights streaming from the windows of the gay saloon, 
 illuminate the night. He has read of gambling and 
 crime. He has nowhere to go, and looks in to see 
 if what he has heard is true. Once within the en- 
 chanted chamber, he is within the fatal circles of the 
 tempter. In the foreground, he finds the card-players 
 around their narrow table, and in the rear the bowl- 
 ing arrangement in full tide of operation. Beside the
 
 158 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEITD. 
 
 former, he sits down. With intense interest he 
 watches the play as it proceeds, and at length joins 
 in it. Awhile the sharps allow him to win. This is 
 a part of their infernal trade. He wins again and 
 again. Now new visions flit before his mind. He 
 has been accustomed to look upon wealth as the re- 
 sult of years of toil ; now he can secure it, ere morn- 
 ing comes. His soul is on fire. He is dizzy with ex- 
 citement. Already he fancies himself the owner of 
 millions. By and by he stakes the whole sum which 
 he brought with him, to invest hi business. The 
 practised villains see that it is no use to dally longer 
 with him. They commence the game, and ere an 
 hour is done, the young fool rises from the table, as 
 poor as he was born into the world. He rushes to 
 his boarding-place, in a state of mind more easily 
 imagined than described. The next day beholds him 
 pale and haggard, yet fearfully excited. He must 
 win back what he has lost. He borrows ah 1 he can. 
 and loses it. Soon he begins to steal. He does not 
 mean to be a thief, but he must win his money back. 
 The road to detection and imprisonment is short. A 
 single year is often found sufficient to corrupt the 
 purest mind, and leave a complete wreck of human 
 character. The fearful excitement ruins both the 
 body and the mind, and leaves a man, the fairest por- 
 trait of human misery. Think not, that you can pan- 
 der with the vice and remain unharmed ! Think not,
 
 GAMBLING. 159 
 
 that you can engage in it, and retire from its scenes, 
 when you will ! A few games will excite passions 
 which no argument can subdue, no logic convince. 
 The strongest mind will be turned by it, and the 
 purest character, it will eventually ruin. The con- 
 firmed gambler presents us with a pitiable spectacle. 
 His nerves all unstrung, in many cases his body 
 crushed, and his look wild and fearful, and his mind 
 like a disordered machine, racking and crushing itself 
 to pieces, and spending its energies for its own de- 
 struction. 
 
 3. G-amUing is the highway to idleness. Man was 
 made for industry. God has formed him for labor 
 and toil. He has endowed him with powers of body 
 and mind, which will fit him to accomplish much 
 good in the few years of his earthly span. Moreover, 
 God seems to have given us an aversion to idleness, 
 and to the idler, and no person in the community, 
 is so little respected as a lazy, indolent, young 
 man. But gambling is the parent of idleness, and 
 has been the means of converting many a well-dis- 
 posed and industrious youth, into an idle, lazy vaga- 
 bond. It first teaches the young man that labor is 
 disreputable for men of wit and sense, that it will do 
 well enough for slaves and ignorant persons, who 
 have no skill and genius, that men of refined man- 
 ners, and intelligent, polished habits, ought not to be 
 required to dig, and tug, and strive. It next pre-
 
 160 THE YOUNG HAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 sents, the folly of working hard all day, and perhaps 
 all night, for what can be secured in a single game. 
 In this manner it takes the attention from pursuits 
 of business and industry, and congregates its subjects 
 in saloons and cellars, where they can play at night, 
 and lounge, and smoke, and curse, and sleep, during 
 the day. It creates an uneasiness, a fickleness, a 
 discontent with one's employment and pursuits, and 
 breaks up all regular business habits. It is not com- 
 mon for a professional gambler to be an industrious 
 man. His trade is a kind of system of lazy vaga- 
 bondage, and renders him physically, mentally, and 
 morally unfit for any useful pursuit. Go into a gam- 
 bling room in the daytime, and you will find a score 
 of dissipated fellows congregated there. At a time, 
 when the trader is in his store, the laborer at his 
 toil, the mechanic in his workshop, these knights of 
 the bar are engaged in lounging on cushioned seats, 
 reading low publications, uttering blasphemous jokes, 
 and drinking the sparkling wine, like gentlemen. Oc- 
 casionally they will come forth to the light of day, 
 looking like demons reeling up from the bottomless 
 pit, and staggering to their homes, to abuse a wife, or 
 dash to the earth a child, who comes to twine its little 
 arms around the father's form. For the purpose of 
 gambling, they have money enough, but for the wants 
 of the family, to clothe the wife or feed the child, 
 they have none. They will work all night casting
 
 GAMBLING. 161 
 
 the polished ball, but will shun the hammer as if it 
 was a viper, the pen as if it was a fiery serpent. 
 To just such an extent, as a man becomes a gambler, 
 does he also become an idle, useless, lazj spendthrift. 
 This is plain language, but as true as plain. All past 
 experience and observation teach it, and you have 
 only to follow out the gamblers in any community, to 
 have it fully and painfully confirmed. 
 
 4. G-amUing is a system of falsehood. Truth is 
 one of the loveliest of the virtues. The man of truth 
 is an estimable character. Truthfulness consists, not 
 simply, in always avoiding direct falsehood, but in an 
 upright, consistent course of action. There is the lie 
 of the hand, as well as the lie of the lip. Sometimes 
 a look conveys a lie ; a shrug of the shoulders, or a 
 shake of the fingei consitute, not unfrequently, the 
 greatest falsehoods. A man of truth is one, who is 
 open in all his dealings ; there will be no trickery, no 
 double-dealing, no insinuations. His lips and his con- 
 duct will agree with each other. He will not be plea- 
 sant and fair in your presence, and plunge a dagger 
 to your heart when your face is averted. He will not 
 utter smooth compliments when you are listening, and 
 when you are gone, sting your reputation with the 
 poison of asps. Unused to deception, he will not sus- 
 pect it in others, but will act towards his fellow-men on 
 principles of open, candid honesty. But gambling is 
 entirely opposed to truth. In itself, it is a lie, its 
 11
 
 162 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 promises are hollow and deceptive, its pleasures false 
 and fleeting. It is carried on by falsehood. From 
 the verj nature of the case, the gambler cannot be a 
 man of truth. When he sits down to play, he sits 
 down to lie ; the play is a falsehood, and the gambler 
 has forfeited his character for truth, to just the extent 
 that he has become involved in the web-work of this 
 vice. The skill exercised by the gambler is not like 
 the skill of the lawyer, in an eloquent argument ; not 
 like the skill of the mechanic, who performs a difficult 
 piece of work ; not like the skill of the trader, who 
 displays his goods to the best advantage. The genius 
 of the gambler, is a genius for deception ; his skill, is 
 a skill to cheat. The very tendency of the crime is 
 to unbend the character from its integrity, and lead 
 up the young to crime of open and damning character. 
 A gentleman of this congregation remarked to me 
 awhile since, " that upon inquiry at one of our houses 
 of reformation, it was found that nine-tenths of the 
 boys who had been placed there, had been employed 
 previous to their confinement, in tending and doing 
 little errands, and setting up the pins, for gentlemen, 
 in gambling saloons." These places not only corrupt 
 the men Avho congregate in them, but they are train- 
 ing up a class of boys to dishonest and fraudulent 
 practices, and making them at the outset of life, dip 
 honest and corrupt. 
 
 5, It, is a system of wholesale theft. I know that
 
 GAMBLING. 163 
 
 it is not what is usually denominated theft, but though 
 called by another name, it is no less really that 
 crime. Without giving any equivalent, the property 
 of another is appropriated to the use of the winner, 
 and though the involuntary consent of the loser may 
 be given, it is against his wishes and will. This 
 the fortunate party knows, and when he sweeps the 
 stakes into his own pockets, he has evidence that his 
 opponent bitterly regrets it, and would keep his 
 money, if he had the ability to win it back again. 
 Notwithstanding this knowledge, the gambler will sit 
 down to the table, and coolly win the last dollar which 
 the hapless victim may possess. It may be said, that 
 the loser is aware of all this, and ought not to play if 
 he does not wish to lose. True, but should the 
 maniac barter his farm away for a copper cent, or, 
 the idiot sell his valuable house for a handful of silver ; 
 would the law, would public opinion justify the sharper 
 who had made the bargain ? Would not every honest 
 man look upon this transaction of the villain, as base 
 fraud and gross dishonesty? Would they not cry 
 out against the wrong, and demand the punishment 
 of the offender ? Now the young man who is just 
 beginning to gamble, is insane. He may have his 
 reason on other subjects, but on this he is deluded 
 and intoxicated. The mad excitement has turned 
 his brain, and set his soul on fire. And thus he will 
 continue, until like the professional gambler, his heart
 
 164 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 is burnt to ashes, or petrified to flint. He will con 
 tinue a monomaniac until conscience is gone. 
 
 And by what name shall we call the man, whose 
 soul is too dead to feel, and who deliberately sita 
 down to secure by trickery and deception, the money 
 of his excited, insane neighbor ? What name shall 
 we give to the crime which he commits ? Before 
 God, that man is a robber ; his crime is robbery. 
 He appropriates to his own use, the property of 
 another, and gives him no equivalent. He wrongs 
 and abuses the poor dupe of his villany, and leaves 
 him without remorse, to hunger or thirst, live or die. 
 
 But the victim himself is not the only sufferer. 
 Frequently young men who have amiable and virtuous 
 families, practice this vice. They by some unfortu- 
 nate combination of circumstances, become entangled 
 in the net of the seducer, and leaving their families 
 night after night, resort to the den of infamy, there 
 to win or lose, amid the fumes of brandy, and the 
 sound of cursing. Sometimes these young men lose 
 their all; they stake it in some unfortunate game, 
 and see it swept into the pockets of a competitor. 
 Enraged and drunken, each one returns to his family. 
 The children see him come, and cry for bread. The 
 wife points to her famishing little ones, and beseeches 
 him to secure them food. With all a woman's ear- 
 nestness, she pleads for money enough to buy a single 
 garment to cover their freezing limbs. What shall
 
 GAMBLING. 165 
 
 he tell her ? What reply shall be given those hungry 
 children, as they cry for BREAD. Why, that a god- 
 less wretch met him in the abodes of woe, and 
 wronged him, cheated him, robbed him of all ; left 
 him a beggar, and sent him home without a shilling 
 in his pocket, to see his children starve their mother 
 die. The gambler who has won, has not stolen money 
 from the pocket of his victim only, but bread, bread, 
 BREAD, from the mouths of his wife and children. If 
 a man comes into my house at night, and takes a sin- 
 gle article, it may be a loaf of bread from the larder, 
 or an armful of wood from the pile, the officers of jus- 
 tice will pursue him, and if taken, he will suffer im- 
 prisonment. But the gambler may steal the bread 
 from a hundred families, and leave them in the shiv- 
 ering time of winter without fire, without clothing, 
 without food, and yet he is allowed to walk the streets, 
 and move among men, as if he was as virtuous as an 
 angel. You have only to converse with men who are 
 familiar with this subject, to learn that it is a whole- 
 sale system of theft and dishonesty. Reformed gam- 
 blers will tell you tales of sorrow which will melt 
 your heart. They will describe to you the strength, 
 the fearful power of the strange, unnatural excite- 
 ment, when once it has obtained dominion. They 
 will declare to you that family Bibles have been 
 pawned to secure money to play with ; that the 
 clothing of children, has in some cases, been stolen
 
 166 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 from the wardrobe, and staked upon the issue of the 
 game ; that the ring which was placed upon the fin- 
 ger of the wife, on the day of marriage, has been torn 
 from her, and gambled away. A case occurred 
 awhile since, within the limits of our own city, of this 
 revolting character. Two little children had been 
 clothed for the Sabbath School, by the hand of chari- 
 ty. Some, who now hear me, assisted in the Avork. 
 Blind hands fitted and made the garments, and in duo 
 season the children appeared in the house of God. 
 Three Sabbaths came and passed away. Ere the 
 fourth had arrived, the father of those children took 
 their warm, comfortable garments, and by relating a 
 plausible story to one of his neighbors, succeeded in 
 selling tham. The money was taken to the saloon of 
 a man who lives in affluence, and there lost in gam- 
 bling. A few days after, I met the little boy in the 
 street, and when questioned, he related to me the 
 fact which I have now given, and which was subse- 
 quently confirmed by the mother, and even by the 
 wretched father, with whom I had a conversation. 
 Could I bring that little child, and induce him to tell 
 you his tale of woe, as he told it to me, on the side- 
 walk of the bleak street, you would need no further 
 appeal upon this subject. 
 
 6. G-ambling nullifies the marriage relation, and 
 introduces disorder and confusion into families. 
 Home is the seat of domestic felicity. If home is
 
 GAMBLING. 167 
 
 what it may be, and what it often is, the relations of 
 husband and wife, parent and child, are full of sacred 
 pleasure. If home is not what it should be, these re- 
 lations will fail to confer that pleasure which God 
 has ordained, and which under proper circumstances 
 will proceed from them. Now one view at gambling 
 will suffice to convince you, that it strikes a blow at 
 domestic bliss. It allures the husband from his 
 home until a late hour at night, and returns him to it, 
 excited with wine, and maddened at his losses. In 
 the saloon, and in the street, he dare not vent his 
 rage, and he goes into his family, to the spot, which 
 of all others, should be most free from harsh words 
 and angry looks, there to act out what during tho 
 evening he has not ventured to develop. On his poor 
 wife and child, the storm of his vengeance bursts with 
 terrific fury, and threats and blows reply to the mild 
 request for food and raiment. I scarcely know of a 
 more fearful frame of mind, than that which the gam- 
 bler has, as he returns to his family after a night of 
 debauchery, his property gone, his head aching and 
 throbbing, his heart bursting with its own anguish. 
 His wife may receive him with kindness, his children, 
 bright-eyed boys and girls may cluster around him as 
 he enters, but he has no inclination to return their 
 kindness, and he stalks through his dwelling, venting 
 his indignation alike upon God and man. 
 
 7. G-aming leads to intemperance. Crime never
 
 168 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 goes singly and alone. Seldom do we find a man, 
 who lives in the habitual practice of one vice, and of 
 no other. A man who will swear profanely, will gen- 
 erally cheat ; if he will cheat, he will steal, and com- 
 mit forgery ; if he will do these deeds of darkness, he 
 will gamble, get drunk, and perhaps, if occasion re- 
 quires will commit murder. The same disposition and 
 state of heart which leads to one of these crimes will, 
 if not vigorously controlled, lead to the whole. Our 
 sins are like the links of one great chain, and are to 
 a considerable extent inseparable. Between gam- 
 bling and intemperance, there is a direct connection. 
 A man must drink, and become half drunken, ere he 
 can play with skill ; the wine-cup must sharpen his 
 wits. Before he begins to drink, he is cautious, hesi- 
 tates, and considers, ere he lays his money on the 
 table. He plays with an unsteady hand, and thinks 
 of home. The intoxicating cup must be used to drive 
 away these feelings ; to check the rising emotions of 
 affection for his family ; to drown the voice of reason, 
 and make him desperate. Then when he is half 
 drunken, when he has become half dead, he is fit to 
 play ; then can he pledge without hesitating, the bit 
 of crust which his child must eat or starve ; then can 
 he stake the hat upon his head, the shoes upon his 
 feet, the family Bible, and the family itself. 
 
 When the game is over, and the excitement has 
 passed away, he must drink again to invigorate his
 
 GAMBLING. 169 
 
 system, to restore his energies, to quiet his nerves, 
 and make his heart strong for another revel. This 
 matter seems to be perfectly understood by the 
 keepers of gambling houses. Hence, they always 
 have a bar, at or near their den of crime. Gambling 
 cannot be supported without drink, and we conse- 
 quently find the saloon and the rum-shop, side by 
 side. When the poor victim sees his hard earnings 
 swept into the pockets of the practised villain with 
 whom he plays, when he remembers his poor aged 
 parents whom he is bound by every holy tie to sup- 
 port, conscience will begin to work, and if he has 
 strength enough he will resolve to return to his home. 
 At such a moment, the maddening bowl must be used. 
 The beverage of hell must be placed to his lips, and 
 in the excitement which it occasions, all holy thoughts, 
 all sacred associations must be crowded out of sight, 
 until his last dollar is staked, and the poor wretch is 
 driven to madness, and perhaps to suicide. 
 
 8. Gambling deadens the Jieart and destroys all 
 Tdnd and tender feelings. Common, ordinary theft 
 and dishonesty do not do this, to any such extent 
 as gambling. A man may steal a purse from the 
 pocket of a stranger, and yet love his family. He 
 may cheat in business, defraud every customer, and 
 return to his home with real affection. But a con- 
 firmed gambler, really loves no one, in heaven or on 
 earth. Father, mother, brother, sister, wife, child,
 
 170 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 are alike odious, and uncared for. The tender ties 
 which bind other families in one holy band, are 
 severed, and when gambling has become an absorb- 
 ing passion, home has no attraction, and friends no 
 influence. 
 
 It may be supposed, that I am using language 
 stronger than the case will bear ; that my views of 
 gambling arise from an ignorance of the real feelings 
 of those who are engaged in the practice of the vice. 
 But if I am deceived, I am not alone in it. Some of 
 our oldest, best, and most experienced men, have 
 come to the same conclusion. The opinion of the vir- 
 tuous community was expressed long ago, and gam- 
 bling has been considered a crime, among Christians, 
 ever since the days of our divine Saviour. In all 
 ages it has had the same hardening, degrading ten- 
 dency. In every clime it has been fraught with cor- 
 ruption and sorrow, and from the time when the mur- 
 derers of Christ sat down beneath the cross, to gam- 
 ble for his garments, until now, it has had the same 
 tendency to corrupt human nature, and chill the heart 
 to all lovely and pure emotions. That it may be 
 seen that I am not alone in this opinion, let me in- 
 troduce the statements of men of more age, wisdom, 
 experience, and goodness, than myself, confirming the 
 same statement. One writer* says, " The finished 
 gambler has no heart ; he would play at his brother's 
 * Kev. Dr. Nott.
 
 GAMBLING. 171 
 
 funeral ; he would gamble upon his mother's coffin." 
 Another* declares that, " Gambling palsies the heart, 
 and so effectually silences the voice of conscience, 
 that a man can commit any crime and feel no re- 
 morse." Says another,! " Not long since, a young 
 man acknowledged to me, in the greatest anguish of 
 mind, that drinking and gambling, into both of -which 
 he fell in college, had almost accomplished his tem- 
 poral and eternal ruin. There are, in every place of 
 considerable size, fiends in human form, who are ever 
 on the alert to entice young men into these practices, 
 that they may increase their miserable gain by the 
 destruction of soul and body." Another,^: speaking 
 of the gambler, says, " As he walks the streets, child- 
 hood should flee in terror at his approach ; uncon- 
 taminated youth should hide from the very sight of 
 him ; the maiden her brow now blanched with fear, 
 and now suffused with indignation should spurn 
 him from her path; honest manhood should shrink 
 from contact with the basest of the species ; and old 
 age, leaning on its staff, too feeble to turn aside for 
 refuge, should lift its eyes to heaven, to be delivered 
 from a "contamination more foul than the grave. The 
 gambler should be made to feel that he is a marked 
 man ; that in earth's homes, and in earth's hearts 
 there is no place for him ; that on his habitation 
 
 * Horace Walpole. t Rev. William W. Pattern. 
 
 } Eev. Joseph W. Thompson, D.D.
 
 172 THE TOTJNG MA^S FRIEND. 
 
 is written "hell" and on his brow is written 
 " fiend r 
 
 Another* says, " After hearing many of the scenes 
 not unfamiliar to every gambler, I think Satan might 
 be proud of their dealings, and look up to them with 
 that deferential respect, with which one monster gazes 
 upon a superior. There is not even the expectation of 
 honesty. Some scullion-herald of iniquity decoys the 
 unwary wretch into the secret room ; he is tempted to 
 drink ; made confident by the specious simplicity of the 
 game ; allowed to win ; and every lure, and bait, and 
 blind is employed then he is plucked to the skin 
 by tricks which appear as fair as honesty itself. The 
 robber avows his deed, does it openly ; the gambler 
 sneaks to the same result under skulking pretences. 
 There is a frank way, and a mean way of doing a 
 wicked thing. The gambler takes the meanest way 
 of doing the dirtiest deed. The victim's own partner 
 is sucking his blood ; it is a league of sharpers to get 
 his money at any rate ; and the wickedness is so un- 
 blushing, that it gives, at last, an instance of what 
 the deceitful human heart, knavish as it is, is ashamed 
 to try to cover or conceal ; but confesses, with help- 
 less honesty, that it is fraud, cheating, stealing, rob- 
 lery, and nothing else." The same writer elsewhere 
 remarks, " When playing becomes desperate gam- 
 bling, the heart is a hearth where all the fires of 
 * Rev. H. W. Beecher.
 
 GAMBLING. 173 
 
 gentle feelings have smouldered to ashes ; and a 
 thorough-paced gamester could rattle dice in a char- 
 nel-house, and wrangle for his stakes amid murder, 
 and pocket gold dripping with the blood of his own 
 kindred." 
 
 I have but little more to say upon this topic. I 
 hope I have convinced you of the folly of gambling, 
 and led your minds to such an abhorrence of the 
 crime, as Avill in after life, shield you, by God's 
 blessing, from its terrific evils. I have used strong 
 language, but not stronger than the subject demands ; 
 and if there are any present, who have become in- 
 volved deeply in this passion, they can attest the 
 truth of my statements. Go from this house to-night, 
 my young friends, with a determined hostility to all 
 gambling operations. Remember, that they are de- 
 vised to steal your money, blast your character, and 
 ruin your soul. Remember, that those who habitually 
 assemble in salo/ms appropriated to these purposes, 
 are generally knaves. As says the poet : 
 
 " Whene'er the gaming-board is set, 
 Two classes of mankind are met ; 
 But if we count the greedy race, 
 The knaves fill up the greater space." 
 
 Beware, lest you be deceived. Gambling is a system 
 of falsehood. It will promise you a fortune in an 
 hour wealth in abundance happiness, without 
 mixture of sorrow. But none of them, does it confer.
 
 174 . THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 When the inquisition house, at Madrid, was de- 
 stroyed by order of Napoleon, the commanding officer 
 found an image of a beautiful virgin. The workman- 
 ship was most perfect, its proportions were correct, 
 and beauty rested on each chiseled feature. This 
 image was an instrument of torture. The victim was 
 commanded to go up and embrace the virgin, and as 
 he placed his bosom against the cold bosom of the 
 statue, and his lips against the cold lips of the mar- 
 ble, a spring was touched, an internal machine was 
 set in motion, and the arms of the virgin filled with 
 sharp daggers, arose and encircled the poor sufferer, 
 and cutting into his flesh, mangled him in a most hor- 
 rid manner, and destroyed his life. . Gambling is 
 such an image. It looks well at a distance, but it is 
 armed with knives which will cut, not only the body 
 but the soul. Fly from the gambler's house, as from 
 the door of death. Fly from the gambler himself. 
 He will strive to ruin thee. Poison is in his heart, 
 and falsehood on his tongue. He seeks thy ruin. 
 
 " Beware of yonder dog ; 
 
 Look, when he fawns, he bites ; and -when he bites, 
 His venom teeth will rankle to the death ; 
 Hate not to do with him, beware of him, 
 Sin, death, and hell, have set their marks on him 
 And all their ministers attend him."
 
 LECTURE VIII. 
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 
 
 AT THE LAST IT BITETH LIKE A SERPENT, AND STINGETH LIKB 
 
 AN ADDER. Proverbs 23: 32. 
 
 INTEMPERANCE, like other vices, is deceitful and 
 seductive. It frequently presents a beautiful exte- 
 rior, while within it is all corruption, and as loathsome 
 as a sepulchre, full of dead men's bones. Youth is 
 charmed and cheated by it, and old age, it often 
 covers with shame and disgrace. 
 
 You have seen a calm cloud appear in the heavens 
 in a clear day in summer. At a distance it looked 
 beautiful. Its shining edges glittered with delusive 
 splendor, and it moved up the sky as majestically as 
 the chariot of Jehovah. As it approached, the beau- 
 ty disappeared ; on man below, it cast dark, threat- 
 fcning glances ; the golden fringes vomited forth fork- 
 ed lightning ; and what afar, seemed mellow music, 
 was soon found to be harsh and terrific thunder. 
 Soon the tempest was abroad on earth. The beasts
 
 176 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 of the field fled for shelter to the shadow of the high 
 rock; the yellow harvest of the husbandman was 
 swept away, and man himself fled, a fugitive before 
 the storm. 
 
 Intemperance is like that cloud ! It promises shel- 
 ter and shade to the thirsty spirit, but soon bursts 
 upon human life with all the fury of the tempest. It 
 sends its blast and sweeps its tide, into the domestic 
 retreat, across tribunals of justice, and up to the very 
 altars of the church of God. 
 
 You have seen a serpent winding himself noiselessly 
 through a bed of flowers, and anon lifting his crested 
 head above the foliage, and sporting himself with many 
 a gambol. You have admired his beauty, agility, and 
 strength, and watched his movements with intense de- 
 light. Even the wild flowers which bloomed in his 
 path, seemed to bend forward to kiss his beautiful form, 
 and he in return moved aside, lest he should crush 
 the fragile things, and scatter their tiny leaves. As 
 you gazed, a mother and her child came on, and 
 stooped to pluck those flowers. Then was the fero- 
 cious nature of the monster developed. Around those 
 shrinking forms he coiled himself, and with a hissing 
 sound struck them with his fangs. Crushed and 
 wounded, the child and mother were left to die, while 
 the splendid monster moved away, and was soon lost 
 from view in the dense forest. 
 
 Intemperance is such a serpent ! To youth it pre-
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 17T 
 
 sents a beautiful exterior. The wine sparkles in the 
 cup, and the gay festival attracts the unthinking 
 throng. " At last it biteth like a serpent, and 
 stingeth like an adder." Within its coil the victim 
 groans and writhes in agony, until the poison, like 
 boiling blbod, flows through all his veins, reaching his 
 brain and setting his soul on fire. 
 
 You have seen the ocean calm and tranquil. As 
 far as the eye could reach not a ruffle disturbed the 
 surface of the waters. Like a sea of glass, it reflect- 
 ed the form of every bird which took passage over it, 
 and gave back from its clear bosom, the polished 
 beauty of the heavens above. Invited by the sereni- 
 ty of ocean and sky, the mariner launched his vessel, 
 and spread his canvas to catch the gentle breeze. 
 Soon a change came on. The wind blew like the 
 hurricane. The waves tumbled and foamed upon, 
 each other. The ship plunged, and quivered, and 
 strained in the trough of the sea. Sunken rocks now 
 lifted their huge forms and sharp peaks high above 
 the water, and anon were buried deep, by the moun- 
 tain billow. Morning came ; and a vessel, without 
 mast, or rudder, or sail, or chart, or compass, or crew, 
 floated upon the bosom of the surge. 
 
 Intemperance is like that ocean ! To the youthful 
 voyager it seems as calm and placid, as a sea of glass. 
 
 But as he ventures out ; as the green hills of so- 
 briety disappear, the waves of destruction begin to 
 12
 
 178 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 dash around him ; the whistling blasts of poverty . 
 make frightful music ; the moaning of the pitiless 
 storm disturbs his dream of pleasure, and ere long 
 he is tossing, an unmanageable wreck, upon the sea 
 of temporal and eternal ruin. To point out the dan- 
 gers of the sea of intemperance, and utter a solemn 
 warning to the young, will be the object of the 
 present discourse, and while I do this, I request your 
 serious and candid attention. 
 
 , I need not stop to prove that our young men need 
 caution upon this point. Although the temperance 
 . reformation has laid its heavy blows upon the shiver- 
 ing sides of the dominion of king Alcohol, his throne 
 is not yet overturned. His dark, infernal empire still 
 stands. The frowning fortress from which he hurls 
 firebrands, arrows, and death, still lifts its front in the 
 midst of the Christian community, and on every side, 
 are monuments of his dreadful conquests. True it is, 
 that intemperance has been driven from the marriage 
 festival, and the chamber of mourning ; from the pul- 
 pit of the minister, and the bench of the judge ; but 
 unabashed, it has sought out other homes, and laid its 
 snare for new victims. What then, we ask, are the 
 solemn warnings which intemperance gives to young 
 men ? 
 
 1. The drunkard shall come to poverty. Poverty 
 in itself, is not a crime. No disgrace belongs to the 
 man, who by reverses in business, is led down from
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 179 
 
 affluence to destitution. The poorest man who walks 
 this earth of sorrow, or who toils in vain to clothe and 
 feed his children, can stand in the presence of the 
 man of millions, with no consciousness of inferiority. 
 But when poverty is the result of crime, it becomes at 
 once sinful and disgraceful ; when it is the result of 
 gambling, or drinking, or lying, it covers its victim 
 with a robe of shame. Under any circumstances it is 
 exceedingly unpleasant and inconvenient to be very 
 poor, and by most men, poverty is dreaded as one of 
 the worst of evils. Now poverty is as sure to follow 
 a course of intemperance, as light and heat to follow 
 the rising of the sun. God has so ordained. In his 
 word he has declared that the drunkard shall come to 
 poverty, and wherever we behold drunkenness, we 
 also gaze upon squalid misery. Go into any commu- 
 nity and you will find affluence to be the result of so- 
 briety, and destitution the sure attendant of dissipa- 
 tion. You will expect to find in the neat, vine-cover- 
 ed cottage, a frugal, temperate man ; and in the hovel, 
 unpainted and desolate, the windows shattered, the 
 doors unhinged, an intemperate and dissipated man. 
 So universal is this fact, that we expect a young man 
 to ruin himself, squander his property, become idle 
 and worthless, when he commences a course of intem- 
 perance. We predict with almost unerring certainty, 
 that a few years will make him a pauper or a crimi- 
 nal, and leave him in a mad-house or prison, the vie-
 
 180 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 tun of his crimes. The wretched beings, who some- 
 times reel along our streets, the sport of boyhood, and 
 the shame of manhood ; the miserable creatures, who 
 hide in cellars, and bar-rooms, and taverns, were once 
 as respectable as those who now walk the earth, with 
 proud step and lofty look. But forgetting the decla- 
 ration of the Almighty, " the drunkard shall come to 
 poverty," they took the social glass, and drank its 
 contents. The pledge was disregarded, and the warn- 
 ings of temperate men, unheeded. Step by step, 
 they descended from respectability and affluence to 
 wretchedness and woe. Property was wasted, and 
 character sacrificed. Self-respect took its flight, and 
 those who were once the enterprising, industrious, 
 hopeful young men of our country, are now the reel- 
 ing, staggering inhabitants of dens and caves of in- 
 famy. 
 
 One such case, came under my own observation, 
 about one year ago. A young man, with whom I was 
 intimate in childhood, became intemperate. When a 
 boy, he had a generous heart, and a noble disposition. 
 We all loved him, and of our circle, he was the pride 
 and ornament. Friends looked to him, with the 
 highest anticipations of his future usefulness. When 
 at a proper age, he commenced business, and for 
 awhile was exceedingly prosperous. The little prop- 
 erty, which he had at first, increased, and he was 
 looking forward to wealth and affluence. In an un-
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 181 
 
 fortunate hour, he learned to drink the social glass, 
 and drain the maddening bowl. Kind friends hung 
 around him, and presented their remonstrances ; the 
 church of which he was a member, uttered its kindest 
 warnings ; an aged mother hung upon his steps with 
 prayers and tears. Heedless of them all, he clung 
 to his boon companions, and his cups. " I shall 
 never become a drunkard," he said, " I can control 
 my appetite ; your fears are vain." Soon business 
 was neglected. The little fortune which he had ac- 
 cumulated was scattered to the blast, and discouraged 
 and disheartened, he became a drunkard. The asso- 
 ciates of his early days stood aloof ; the church, with 
 many tears, and after many fruitless efforts to reform 
 him, withdrew the hand of fellowship ; his mother 
 died of a broken heart, and the young man himself, 
 mortified and ashamed, fled from the scenes of his 
 youth, and the companions of his childhood. 
 
 One morning, about a year since, a messenger 
 called at my door, and asked me to visit a young man 
 in distress. Amid the peltings of the pitiless storm, 
 I hastened to the place where he was. I found the 
 street, the house if house, the wretched tenement 
 could be called. Up into the third story, I traveled, 
 amid dirt and filth, and entered the chamber to which 
 I was directed. In a cold room, on a bed of straw, 
 covered with a single moth-eaten blanket, burning 
 with fever, tortured with rheumatism, and delirious
 
 182 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 with drink, was stretched a young man. I could not 
 recognize his countenance, or recall a single feature. 
 " I do not know you," I said to him. He cast on 
 me a look of agony, and replied : " Good God, has 
 intemperance blotted out my manliness, and made me 
 so much a demon, that my early associates do not 
 know me ?" Then he covered his face, and wept 
 aloud. 
 
 His story is soon told. He was the young man, 
 who hi early life had given such promise of useful- 
 ness. To one degree after another in his fatal habit 
 he had advanced, until his money was gone, and he 
 was a pauper. To our city he had wandered in 
 search of employment, and here I found him, in the 
 condition which I have described, with both feet 
 frozen, and none to minister to his wants. In the 
 wretched dwelling, and among the more wretched oc- 
 cupants, he found no sympathy. He learned in all 
 the bitterness of his spirit, that the drunkard will 
 come to poverty. 
 
 I would not affirm, that every case of intemperance 
 will end like this, or that the destruction of every in- 
 temperate young man, will be as speedy and as aw- 
 ful. But sooner or later, poverty will crush the 
 spirits of every man who " looketh upon the wine 
 when it is red," or who goeth after strong drink. He 
 may bear up against it for awhile, but it will ulti- 
 mately overthrow him. It will perplex and disturb
 
 INTEMPEKANCE. 183 
 
 his business ; it will mortgage his house, and his farm ; 
 it will place an attachment upon his stocks ; it will 
 ruin all his prospects for this life, and the life to 
 come. 
 
 2. Intemperance ruins the physical constitution. 
 In the creation of the body, God has displayed infinite 
 wisdom. More wonderful than any complicated work 
 of human hands, it bears the impress of divinity. It is 
 fearfully and wonderfully made, and is a specimen of 
 workmanship, unrivaled in the arts. The Maker of 
 man did not form him thus fearfully, in order that he 
 might be broken by disease, and crushed by vice. 
 He made him upright. He stamped the blush of 
 health upon his cheek, and sent him forth to look 
 upon the earth beneath his feet, and the heavens 
 above his head. 
 
 You have seen a beautiful machine, fulfilling the 
 purpose of its maker, and working with order, regu- 
 larity and harmony. You .have examined it closely, 
 and admired the perfection of all its parts. You 
 have complimented the skill of the artizan, and deem- 
 ed his work, one of extraordinary ingenuity. You 
 have also seen that machine disarranged ; the order 
 and harmony of its movements gone, and entirely in- 
 capable of performing the work for which the maker 
 designed it. 
 
 The human body under the influence of intempe- 
 rance, is like that disarranged and broken instru-
 
 184 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 ment. The purpose of its creation is defeated, and 
 it becomes the seat of numberless diseases, aches and 
 pains, sorrows and woes, for which God never has in- 
 tended it. The drunkard presents a fearful specimen 
 of a broken-down man. From the head to the feet, 
 he is covered with disease. He moves along the 
 street, with downcast eyes, or staggers to and fro, 
 with heavy tread ; his nerves are all unstrung, or 
 braced beyond endurance ; his head aches and 
 throbs ; his bloated face spoils the beauty of a hu- 
 man being ; his knees totter and smite against each 
 other ; his livid lips are closed over teeth decayed ; 
 his swollen tongue prevents his ready utterance ; his 
 idiotic look, betokens speedy death ; his eye glares at 
 one time, and is languid and bloodshot at another ; 
 and his brain is racked with a thousand fancies, and 
 agonized by a thousand fears. Go search earth's 
 darkest caves, and bring up to the blaze of day, the 
 inmates of your prisons and dungeons ; your insane 
 asylums and madhouses, and none will you find so 
 miserable and degraded, so lost to all that makes up 
 a perfect man, as the victim of intemperance. Take 
 some case within the limits of your own observation ; 
 some friend who tampered with the terrible destroyer, 
 and been ruined. You knew him perhaps, when no 
 shade of crime had passed over his manly counte- 
 nance ; when he walked with his head erect, and his 
 bosom bared to the storms of life ; when life flashed
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 185 
 
 from his eye, and vigor was in his step ; when the 
 stranger noted his manly form, and correct deport- 
 ment. You have seen that form bend, not with age ; 
 you have seen that step falter, not from fear, and 
 that once noble form reeling from the drunkard's pur 
 gatory, to lie besotted and beast-like by the wayside. 
 You have seen everything noble and beautiful in this 
 God-made body, utterly spoiled ; the divinity in man 
 crushed out of him, and the temple of the immortal 
 soul laid in ruins. Nor will the young men whom I 
 address to-night, avoid this terrible destruction of the 
 human system, if they enter the fatal avenues which 
 lead to the drunkard's fate. They may suppose that 
 they have power to drink, or refrain from drinking. 
 They may boast how strong they are, and how easily 
 they can dash the inebriating cup to the earth. But 
 their boasts are idle as the wind. The great army of 
 drunkards with crippled limb, limping form, bleeding 
 heart, and maddened brain, thousands of whom die 
 every year, utter their notes of warning. The broken, 
 diseased, death-struck forms of prostrate men, as they 
 lie along the path of life, give fearful admonition. 
 The opening graves, into which the remains of men 
 are tumbled after they have cursed themselves and 
 all around them ; graves on which the flowers seem 
 unwilling to bloom, and over which the birds appear 
 to sing in sadness ; graves wet by no widow's tears, 
 consecrated by no orphan's lament ; graves which
 
 186 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 angels shun, or by which they weep in sorrow, as on 
 their mission of mercy, they pass through the city of 
 the dead, all sound the alarm, and by the dumb elo- 
 quence of their speechless harmony, bid the living 
 throng, beware of the drunkard's hopeless doom. 
 You remember the famous dream or vision of a dis- 
 tinguished clergyman, for the publication of which, he 
 ' was beaten in the street and imprisoned. The scene 
 was said to be in Deacon Giles's Distillery. The 
 dreamer saw the demon-workmen at their unhallowed 
 employment, manufacturing with great zeal the elixir 
 of death. He heard their ferocious and blasphemous 
 expressions. While he gazed on, barrel after barrel 
 of the accursed poison was drawn from the cistern 
 and prepared for sale. The employment of one or 
 more of the fiends was, to mark and label these bar- 
 rels and hogsheads of rum and gin, which had been 
 put up. Quenching a coal of fire in the liquid which 
 he had made, the infernal monster went to work. On 
 all the barrels, in letters which would remain invisible 
 until the first glass was drawn, and then burn forth 
 like fire, he wrote, " consumption," " palsy," " fe- 
 ver," " plague," " insanity," " madness," " redness 
 of eyes," " sorrow of heart," "death," "damnation," 
 and the like expressions, which, when the liquid death 
 had been sold, and the buyers drew from it for the 
 first time, flashed out in the faces of the thirsty cus- 
 tomers, who stood waiting around the bar. With
 
 INTEMPERANCE, 187 
 
 fearful consternation they saw written in words of 
 flame, the diseases which they knew were preying 
 upon their systems, and fled from the place in terror. 
 What that dreamer saw in vision, we behold an 
 existing fact. Though on the barrels in the rum- 
 shops, we do not find the words of fire written there 
 by demon hands, yet we behold more fearful inscrip- 
 tions on the living, dying countenances of men who 
 walk our streets. Gleaming forth from fiery eyes ; 
 seen on the wan and haggard cheek ; read in the 
 stooping forms and staggering tread ; heard in the 
 hollow cough ; felt in the aching head, and beating 
 heart, proving to us that intemperance 
 
 " is palsy, plague, and fever, 
 And madness all combined," 
 
 are the fearful inscriptions of death and damnation. 
 
 3. Intemperance poisons domestic felicity. The 
 sacredness of HOME has often been made the subject 
 of discourse. Scarcely a man now hears me, whose 
 heart has not beat quickly, at the mention of the en- 
 dearing word. HOME it is associated with all the 
 pleasant scenes of childhood and youth ; with the 
 names of companions, whose countenances are now 
 forgotten ; with the prayers of parents and the love 
 and kindness of brothers and sisters, who are now 
 sleeping in the grave. Nor, until human nature be 
 changed, will this love of home be entirely destroyed.
 
 188 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 Men who wander far away, over ocean and land, 
 who journey from clime to clime, as fugitives and 
 wanderers, look back with pleasant emotions to a spot 
 which they call their " home." But intemperance, 
 like gambling, is calculated to corrupt home, poison 
 its joys, and wither its flowers. Many a family has 
 been made wretched and miserable by intemperance. 
 The fire on many a hearth has been put out, by the 
 drink of death. Indeed, intemperance so transforms 
 a man's character, that he is not prepared to fulfill 
 the relations which exist between him and his family. 
 However kind he may be when sober, however he may 
 provide for the wants of his family, if he is an intem- 
 perate man, he cannot be a good husband, or a good 
 father. The thing is impossible. Drink transforms 
 the kind and indulgent sire into the harsh, unjust, and 
 cruel tyrant. Men, who when sober are affectionate 
 and pleasant, become under the influence of inebria- 
 tion, fierce and wicked. 
 
 Awhile since, I became acquainted with a family, 
 the head of which was a kind, inoffensive man, who 
 loved his wife and his children with a pure affection. 
 He was one of those peculiar men whose hearts are 
 full of kindness for all around. He was, to some ex- 
 tent, an intemperate man, and when drunken was the 
 very reverse of what he was in his sober moments. 
 On one occasion he returned to his home in a state 
 of intoxication, and for awhile sat brooding by the
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 189 
 
 fire, silent and stupid. Soon his son came in, a little, 
 bright, intelligent boy of six years. The child at 
 school had received the commendation of his teacher, 
 and in his joy had hastened home to repeat the worda 
 of kindness to his parent. Somewhat boisterously he 
 rushed into the room, and with eyes glistening with 
 delight, threw himself into the father's arms. That 
 brutal sire, changed from friend to fiend, uttered a 
 fearful oath, threw the child from him, struck him 
 in the face, and dashed him to the earth. What 
 other acts of violence he would have committed we 
 know not. The mother seized her child, the blool 
 gushing from his nose and mouth, two of his teeth 
 gone, and fled with him to the house of a neighbor. 
 When reason returned, had that father committed 
 murder, he could not have been more penitent. Ho 
 cursed his cups, and yet clung to them. He cursed 
 the man who sold him drink, and still hung about nia 
 workshop of death. He wept and prayed over his 
 child, and still continued in the habit which caused 
 the injury. 
 
 Not long ago, the papers of our city gave us an 
 account of a murder committed in our very midst. 
 A husband, who in his sober moments was kind to hi3 
 companion, in a fit of intemperance, had destroyed 
 her life, and sent her spirit to the bar of God. Not- 
 withstanding his vow to be her support and protection, 
 he caused her death. With his own hands he beat
 
 190 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 and mangled her form, until the vital principle was 
 gone, and then retired to bed, to sleep the drunkard's 
 sleep, and dream the drunkard's dream. 
 
 Southern papers, awhile since, gave an account too 
 dreadful almost to be believed. A newly married 
 couple had lived together, for a short time, in quiet 
 and happiness. Soon after the marriage, the hus- 
 band began to drink. The fatal habit rapidly in- 
 creased upon him, and in two years, he was a miser- 
 able drunkard. One night he returned home at a 
 late hour, and found his wife in a flood of tears. 
 With an oath, he commanded her to dry her cheeks. 
 She could not. Tears had been her meat, day and 
 night, and they came unbidden. She ventured to 
 remonstrate. Seven devils seemed to enter into him. 
 He struck her to the floor ; with a sharp knife he 
 gashed her flesh, and hacked her limbs, and leaving 
 her half dead, fled away. In the morning friends 
 came in, and found the wife insensible, and her babe 
 playing in the purple flood, and when they uttered 
 exclamations of horror, the child held up its hands, 
 covered with a mother's blood, and wept. 
 
 I have introduced these cases, that I may ask, if 
 man is bad enough, with all his depraved powers and 
 passions, to accomplish deeds like these, without the 
 aid of reason-robbing drink ? No ; crushed as human 
 nature is by sin, it needs some artificial stimulant to 
 bring it up to a point, where it can sever so recklessly
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 191 
 
 the dearest ties of nature, and commit crimes, at 
 which cruelty itself revolts. And we find intoxicat- 
 ing drink, furnishing just the excitement which is re- 
 quired to induce husbands to imbrue their hands in 
 the blood of their wives, and fathers to destroy the 
 lives of their children. We find intemperance lead- 
 ing to family disturbances and social discord. We 
 find it to be the cause of sorrow in households, and 
 divisions between companions who have lived plea- 
 santly for years. 
 
 4. Intemperance impairs the intellect, and produces 
 idiocy and madness. There is a strong sympathy 
 between the physical and mental parts of man. One 
 acts upon the other. If the body is diseased, the 
 mind is also found to be in an unhealthy condition. 
 If the mind is unhinged or thrown from its balance, 
 the body suffers accordingly. The intellectual is 
 more valuable than the physical. It will endure 
 when the body has decayed, and will continue to be, 
 after the material structure has disappeared. Now 
 intemperance acts directly upon the mind itself, and 
 indirectly through the medium of the physical consti- 
 tution. The injury done to mind by this vice, is be- 
 yond all calculation. Men of strong and vigorous in- 
 tellect have been bowed by it ; shining talents have 
 been dimmed and tarnished, and the fairest pros- 
 pects of intellectual greatness blasted by its fatal 
 influence. The legal and medical professions, and
 
 192 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 even the ministry, have lost some of their brightest 
 ornaments, and been robbed of some of their choicest 
 jewels, to gratify the lust of this accursed Moloch. 
 Memory now recalls the form and countenance of 
 one, who a few years since, bid fair to stand among 
 the first orators at the bar. His professional services 
 were ncld in high estimation ; as an orator he was 
 enthusiastically applauded ; as a profound scholar, an 
 able statesman, a clear and vivid writer, he had but 
 few superiors. The political party of which he was 
 a member, nominated him for a seat in Congress, and 
 but for the fatal habit of intemperance, he would have 
 been elected. But all the hopes of his youth were to 
 be disappointed. The love of strong drink grew upon 
 him ; he was seen in a state of intoxication in the 
 court-room ; confidence in him was soon lost, and now 
 if you will visit the city of his birth, you will find the 
 wreck of the once polished lawyer and accomplished 
 statesman. His once powerful intellect is shattered, 
 and although he was, but a few years since, the pride 
 and admiration of the bar, he dares not now attempt 
 an argument in open court. A hundred other cases 
 equally plain and pitiable might be produced. The 
 history of intemperance is full of them, and on every 
 page of its fearful record can be found the names of 
 men, who have fallen from the highest summit of in- 
 tellectual greatness, to the lowest depths of degrada- 
 tion and infamy. The ravages of intemperance in its
 
 INTEMPEKANCE. 193 
 
 last stages, are fearful indeed. The mind becomes 
 entirely overthrown, and loses all power of self-con- 
 trol. Like a ship without rudder, or chart, or com- 
 pass, it plunges on the terrible waters of a deep, dark 
 sea. He who would see the intellect entirely de- 
 throned, and hell begun on eapth, must visit the bed 
 of a man suffering with the torment of delirium tre- 
 mens. The poor sufferer is haunted by every image 
 of terror, he sees horrid shapes, he hears horrid 
 sounds. Images, which no mortal man ever conceived 
 of before, start up, and throng around him. Satan 
 with all his legions come racing up from pandemo- 
 nium to hold their infernal conclave in his chamber ; 
 beside his dying bed. Ghosts of murdered men drag 
 their bleeding bodies from the grave, and lay them 
 at his feet. He sees he hears he feels everything 
 dreadful. Each figure on the wall, becomes a fiend, 
 which looks upon him with glaring eye ; the friends 
 who move about the room in tearful silence, are to his 
 disordered fancy, pale spectres, who cry avaunt, and 
 shake at him their long, bony fingers ; the blanket 
 which covers him, he imagines to be a huge snarl of 
 snakes and 'reptiles woven together, and feasting on 
 each other. Inconceivable terror takes possession of 
 him ; he starts from his bed in anguish ; he bids the 
 fiends begone, and hears only their mockery. He 
 utters heart-rending cries, which echo far down the 
 street at midnight ; he pleads with his physician to 
 13
 
 194 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 tear the strangling serpents from his throat, to drive 
 away the demons, who have come to torment him be- 
 fore his time. 
 
 In what prison or mad-house, can you find insanity 
 like this ? In what lone cell, or dark chamber, can 
 you find madness which equals that of the dying 
 drunkard ? In the darkest secrets of human misery 
 the delirium tremens has no counterpart, and as a 
 source of unspeakable anguish, and unmitigated mis- 
 ery, it stands alone, unrivalled by anything this side 
 of perdition. 
 
 A few months ago, a virtuous, amiable young man, 
 was bitten by a mad dog, and awhile afterwards died 
 of hydrophobia. In the arms of that terrible disease, 
 the hapless victim lived a few hours in excruciating 
 torment, pleading with his friends to give him some 
 drug which would destroy life. The fearful news 
 spread rapidly from one to another ; for awhile this 
 awful disease was the subject of conversation in all 
 circles ; the press uttered its warning, and the pulpit 
 made use of the solemn providence. All were alarm- 
 ed ; cities framed laws, and the great commonwealth 
 made the disease the subject of solemn legislation. 
 Muzzles and chains were used ; dogdom was in ter- 
 ror, and hundreds of these creatures have been de- 
 stroyed. All this is well I would not have it other- 
 wise. I only ask. that the madness of intemperance 
 may receive a like attention. In the whole history of
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 195 
 
 a city, but one case of hydrophobia has occurred but 
 one death from the fearful malady, and yet the town 
 is all agog ; editors are writing, ministers are preach- 
 ing, and lawyers are pleading, that something be 
 done, while the madness of inte nperance a disease 
 infinitely more to be dreaded than the hydrophobia, is 
 destroying its victims every month, and no one seems 
 to be alarmed. 
 
 Suppose you, a man should build houses on the cor- 
 ners of every street, that from their doors and win- 
 dows, he might let loose upon the unthinking popu- 
 lace, mad dogs of every size and tribe, to bite the 
 people, and spread the poison of disease throughout 
 the whole community ; what would be thought of him ? 
 Why, the law would lay its heavy hand upon his mur- 
 derous vocation, close his doors, and drag him to 
 some place of confinement. And here are men found 
 on almost every street whose sole business is, to let 
 loose upon society insanity and madness in their 
 worst forms, who send their rum dogs, mad as Satan, 
 to bite with venomed tooth the loveliest members of 
 our families, whose trade is, to spread among men, 
 the worst kind of hydrophobia, and make war alike 
 upon the bodies and the souls of our fellow-creatures. 
 
 5. No drunkard shall inherit the kingdom of God. 
 This is the solemn declaration of an inspired penman. 
 And how reasonable its truth ! The kingdom of God 
 is a place or state of purity. We are informed that
 
 196 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 there, shall be heard no discordant clamor ; no voice 
 of wrangling and bitterness; no sound of disorder, 
 tumult and wrong. There, all is pure, all is lovely, 
 all is holy. There angels sing, and holy beings make 
 sweet music to God a id the Lamb. Gathered there 
 from every clime, ^re the holy men of earth ; men 
 who have toiled and suffered in this world, having no 
 abiding place below the skies. There is no night 
 there no tears no sorrow. One deep, wide wave 
 of glory and delight, submerges all. And can the 
 drunkard expect to live in such a AYorld ? Can he 
 whose lips have so long given utterance to blasphemy, 
 attune them to the melody of heaven ? No ; the word 
 of God declares the thing to be impossible. The 
 drunkard's voice would make a discordant sound in 
 the world of bliss. His shout would burst like a wail 
 of despair upon the startled inhabitants of the celes- 
 tial abode, and contrasting his own deformed and 
 crime-blasted character with the purity and bliss 
 around him, he would find heaven to be more intoler- 
 able than the deepest pit in hell. And where shall 
 the poor drunkard go ? He has misery and suffering 
 on the earth, and where shall he go ? Look upon him 
 as in his chamber, in the last stages of delirium ire- 
 mens, he is held upon the bed by strong hands ; see 
 his wild and horror-struck countenance ; hear his ter- 
 rible, blasphemous expressions ; gaze upon his rolling 
 eye, and behold his consternation as he imagines that
 
 INTEMPERANCE. 197 
 
 his room is filled with snakes and devils ; and tell 
 me, where shall he go ? 
 
 One word more, and I will close. In all large 
 cities, young men are exposed to numberless tempta- 
 tions. On every side are the snares of the enemy, 
 and from the gay saloon with its glittering ornaments, 
 to the low hovel of wretched inebriation, are found 
 the sources of intemperance and vice. Beside the 
 open and known resorts of infamy, are secret dens 
 and caves in which the wicked hide themselves, and 
 into which the young are decoyed and ruined. A 
 friend, a few days since, entered one of the most pub- 
 lic buildings in one of our cities, and came to the door 
 of a room which refused him entrance. lie discov- 
 ered a secret spring, and touched it. The door flew 
 open, and he saw hi full operation the bar, and the 
 gaming-table. Congregated there in the broad day, 
 and yet concealed from human view, were the wretch- 
 ed beings who make crime a pastime and sin a recrea- 
 tion. And other such places there are hi all our 
 large cities, whose sole object is the destruction of 
 the young. To these facts it is worse than madness 
 to blind our eyes. They meet us on every hand ; 
 they stare us in the face at every turn we take. 
 
 Young men, it devolves on you to say what shall 
 be the future history of the temperance reformation. 
 It devolves on you to say how far the burning 
 waves of intemperance shall sweep on, and where they
 
 198 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 shall be stayed. I therefore call upon you, in the 
 name of our common humanity, to arise in all the 
 vigor of youth, and manliness, and arrest, if possible, 
 the tide of ruin which is sweeping over the beauty of 
 our land. We n?ed warm hearts and willing hands. 
 The monster with whom we have to contend, is more 
 powerful than kings and emperors, and will not be 
 defeated without a struggle. Come then to the work 
 of humanity ; the work of God. It will ultimately 
 triumph, and intemperance will be driven from the 
 world. We may toil long against the evil, but vic- 
 tory will eventually crown our labors. It is the cause 
 of human happiness, and would reflect glory upon the 
 angels of God, were they permitted to engage in it. 
 Be not discouraged, though little may seem to be 
 effected. 
 
 " Never doubt a righteous cause ; 
 
 Go ahead ! 
 
 Throw yourself completely in ; 
 Conscience shaping all your laws, 
 Manfully through thick and thin, 
 
 Go ahead ! 
 Do not ask who'll go with yon ; 
 
 Go ahead ! 
 
 Numbers ? spurn the coward's plea ! 
 If there be but one or two, 
 Single handed though it be, 
 
 Go ahead ! 
 Though before you mountains rise. 
 
 Go ahead ! 
 Scale them ? certainly you can ;
 
 INTEMPEKANCE. 199 
 
 Let them proudly dare the skies ; 
 What are mountains to a man 1 
 
 Go ahead ! 
 Though fierce waters round you dash, 
 
 Go ahead ! 
 
 Let no hardship baffle you : 
 Though the heavens roar and flash, 
 Still undaunted, firm, and true. 
 
 Go ahead!"* 
 
 Invoke the assistance of " God o!erhead," and do your 
 duty well, and when the course of life is run, and the 
 last hour of human probation arrives, you will look 
 back upon your efforts to stay the tide of crime, 
 and save the drunkard from temporal and eternal 
 destruction, with high and holy satisfaction. Angels 
 will whisper in your ear of men redeemed from vice 
 and crime, and by your hand plucked as brands from 
 the burning. Such tidings will be sweeter music to 
 your worn spirit, than all the anthems of the earth, 
 and though borne upon the blast, or wafted on the 
 gentle breeze, the flourish of trumpets, or the melody 
 of the organ, mav disturb the silence of your death- 
 chamber, the memory of your good act, will kneel by 
 your dying couch, and do its homage there, and 
 breathe upon you a sweeter strain than can be pur- 
 chased by the wealth, the honors, the noisy pomp 
 and parade of empires. 
 
 * George A. Light.
 
 LECTURE IX. 
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 
 
 BE SURE YOUB SIN WILL FIND YOU OUT. Numbers 32: 23. 
 
 SIN is generally committed with the hope and pros- 
 pect of concealment. Did the criminal believe that 
 he should be detected and punished, he would be de- 
 terred from the practices which have ruined so many 
 of the young men of our land. Did the prospect of 
 discovery and disgrace rise up before every one who 
 goes forth to .the commission of iniquity, hundreds 
 would start back as from a horrid vision, and shun 
 crime as a thing of fearful character. 
 
 When men go forth to steal, they pass along with 
 noiseless tread, and cautiously find their way to the 
 golden treasure. They endeavor to erase every sign 
 of their crime, and leave their own reputation stain- 
 less. The ideas of detection and disgrace, if they 
 ever enter the mind, are driven out, and the criminal 
 looks forward to enjoyment and not detection ; to im-
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 201 
 
 punity, and not punishment. He knows that he may 
 be overtaken, that he may be exposed, but the cer- 
 tainty that he will be exposed, does not seem to enter 
 his mind. 
 
 The midnight murderer hopes that his crime -will 
 be concealed forever. His motto is, " Dead men 
 tell no tales ;" and when the voice of his victim is 
 hushed in death, when his tongue has ceased to move, 
 he imagines that his dreadful deed will be covered up 
 from all human scrutiny. He often moves through 
 life, with his head erect. He converses about the 
 murder which he has committed as freely as if he 
 was innocent. Sometimes such persons will even 
 allow themselves to be put on committees of investi- 
 gation, and in all possible ways seek to blind the eyes 
 of the community. 
 
 Thus is it with all criminals, of less or greater mag- 
 nitude. They attempt to shut every door which 
 would seem to be an inlet of light, and hope that 
 the crime which they have done, will be buried up 
 forever. But how vain is such a hope ! The declar- 
 ation of the " Holy One," is, " There is nothing cov- 
 ered which shall not be revealed ; neither hid, which 
 shall not be known." The murderer may do his deed 
 of blood hi the darkness of the darkest night; the 
 robber may meet his victim, miles from any human 
 habitation, and bury the body of him whom he has 
 robbed in the leaves of the forest, or sink it in the
 
 202 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 I 
 
 channel of the stream ; the pirate may wash his decks 
 with the waves of ocean, and erase from his sails 
 every spot of blood ; he may murder the whole crew ; 
 he may burn and sink the vessel of his victims ; but 
 in all these cases, the crimes will be made known. 
 Darkness, and distance from human beings, and the 
 moanings of the pathless ocean, will not cover or con- 
 ceal the tokens of guilt. The ground will spout forth, 
 the blood ; the earth will disgorge the buried bodies ; 
 and the ocean will bear them scarred, gashed, and 
 lifeless, to the shore, where the dead hand shall lie 
 pointing ocean-ward, as if seeking the detection of the 
 assassin. 
 
 Of course I am not speaking to a congregation of 
 robbers or murderers. I am not preaching to those 
 whose hands are red with blood, and whose con- 
 sciences are corrupted and corroded with stains of 
 awful crime. But I am speaking to a company of 
 sinners ; to a congregation of men and women who 
 have ah 1 been involved in guilt, and who notwithstand- 
 ing their many virtues are, to some extent, charge- 
 able with wrong. If all are sinners, it is not unjust 
 to suppose, that many have sins which they are endea- 
 voring to conceal ; sins which they would not wish to 
 have known, even to their dearest friends. I think 
 the purest man that ever walked this earth of ours, 
 would hardly wish to have all his thoughts and feel- 
 ings laid open before the world. There are so many
 
 THE DETECTION OP SIN CERTAIN. 203 
 
 wicked thoughts, desires, and deeds, hovering around 
 human life, that the noblest and the best would shrink 
 from an investigation. Nor is it unreasonable to sup- 
 pose, that among so large a crowd of young men as 
 throng our cities, there are those who have entered 
 some of the fatal avenues of guilt, and are hiding it 
 from their friends, and from the public gaze. It is 
 not unreasonable to believe, that some have allowed 
 unholy thoughts to manifest themselves in unholy con- 
 duct. There may be amid this throng, some one who 
 has learned to love the music of the gambler's voice ; 
 who has begun to sip the poison-cup of inebriation ; 
 who h'ves in violation of the holy Sabbath, and who 
 profanes the name of God, without hesitancy. To 
 lead such to renounce sin, and avoid crime, I wish to 
 urge several considerations connected with the detec- 
 tion of every transgressor. 
 
 I. THE STRONG PROBABILITY. The probabilities 
 that sin will be detected, are confined to this life. In 
 infinite wisdom God has so arranged the great drama 
 of a changing world ; so contrived its shifting scenes, 
 that crimes are discovered when most we desire and 
 expect concealment, and there is a strong probability 
 that the vicious will be detected and exposed. These 
 probabilities are, 
 
 1. The confessions of associates. In wrong courses 
 and in crimes, men generally have some assistants 
 and accomplices. They seldom go alone to commit
 
 204 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 deeds of darkness and madness. They choose asso- 
 ciates resembling themselves in moral character, and 
 to them impart their secrets, and unfold their pur- 
 poses. They make their companions acquainted with 
 all then* views and feelings, and thus place their lives 
 in the hands of others. Now there is a strong proba- 
 bility that these associates will reveal the secret and 
 expose the sin. Bad men do not long remain in com- 
 pany without strife, and the very person to whom 
 the knowledge of the crime has been communicated, 
 becomes the source of information and exposure. 
 How often do we hear of crimes thus exposed. Long 
 buried, and covered from human gaze, the criminal 
 has rejoiced in the prospect of everlasting conceal- 
 ment, when lo! his accomph'ce, the sharer of the 
 spoils, the partner of his guilt, becomes his accuser. 
 The crime long forgotten is uncovered, the author 
 of it is branded with disgrace, and the scene ends in 
 misery and sorrow. Indeed, so common is the con- 
 fession of associates, that we all expect crime to be 
 detected. When the tidings of murder, or robbery, 
 or wrong of any kind, are running through the coun- 
 try, we watch the next daily paper to see the name 
 of the criminal, and learn his fate. We feel confident 
 that he will not escape ; that some voice will whisper 
 words in secret, which shall be spoken upon house- 
 tops, and those words such as shall make condemna- 
 tion certain. The horrid murder which was commit-
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 205 
 
 ted beneath the walls of Waterville College, the 
 solemn tones of which have echoed far and wide 
 over our land, and produced sadness in many circles, 
 was exposed by one to whom the unfortunate physi- 
 cian, who committed the crime, looked to for conceal- 
 ment and confidence. The very man who was to 
 bury the body, and hide forever all traces of guilt, 
 was the one on whom the law relied to prove the 
 crime, and fasten it upon one who stood high in the 
 esteem and confidence of the people, and who was 
 rising rapidly to eminence in his profession.* 
 
 2. The power of memory. It would be well for 
 every criminal, to forget his own crimes. Could this 
 be the case, detection would be much less certain, as 
 far as this life is concerned. The man who has been 
 guilty of some crime will frequently act in a suspi- 
 cious manner. He wih 1 exhibit signs of guilt, when 
 none around him suspect him of being involved in 
 crime. He will dream at night, and start up with 
 words upon his lips, which he would not care to have 
 uttered. He will shun his fellow-men lest they see 
 the agony of his heart depicted upon his countenance. 
 
 * Since this lecture was delivered, the providence of God has 
 unfolded another diabolical attempt to murder on the part of 
 
 C . A plan deeply laid has been discovered when ready to 
 
 be put in execution, and the life of an innocent man saved ; while 
 the foul murderer, foiled by a superior wisdom, and baffled by the 
 Almighty, has rushed up to meet his Maker, uncalled and unbid- 
 den, a melancholy suicide.
 
 206 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 He will show to those around him, that something is 
 working upon his mind, and preying upon his heart. 
 It is not seldom that the power of memory, by keep- 
 ing the fact before the mind of the criminal himself, 
 will betray him, and well would it be for every man 
 who has done wrong, if he could blot the memory of 
 the fact, as well as the fact itself, from the tablets of 
 the heart, on which it stands recorded. But this can' 
 not be the case. The lamp of memory will burn as 
 long as the soul of man endures ; it will stream its 
 lurid light over every act of guilt, and forever flame 
 with fearful intensity. It is supposed that nothing 
 can be lost to memory ; that every act of life is trea- 
 sured up ; that every thought which flits through the 
 mind, and every word which escapes from the lips, 
 makes an indelible impression. Though at times 
 other objects may engross the attention, and some- 
 tunes we may lose entirely all recollection of what 
 has passed, yet, sooner or later, memory will bring it 
 up again. From her chambers where they have been 
 concealed, but not destroyed, will past crimes start 
 forth and hang like coals of fire, upon the conscience 
 and the heart. I have been told by those who have 
 fallen from high places, or crushed in whirling ma- 
 chinery and exposed to sudden, instant death, that 
 in a space of time inconceivably short, the whole life 
 was presented. Deeds long forgotten and buried out 
 of sight ; words whose sounds long since had perish-
 
 THE DETECTION UP SIN CERTAIN. 207 
 
 i 
 
 ed ; thoughts which had not been cherished for years, 
 came rushing across the mind, and in an instant 
 thronged before the mental vision with startling accu- 
 racy. In the instant of time which was required by 
 the ponderous wheel to turn with crushing force, the 
 whole of this life, and a fearful view of the next, 
 were given, and an age of misery endured in a single 
 moment of time. Nor will the powers of memory 
 ever fail ; as each age of the future expires, and 
 wave after wave of eternal duration sinks back upon 
 the shores of the past, memory will be gaining more 
 fearful power over those who have made earth the 
 theatre of crime. This awful power constitutes the 
 mirror of the soul, which grows brighter from every 
 impression made upon it. It will contribute essen- 
 tially to develop crime, and uncover deeds of dark- 
 ness, which all the ingenuity of the criminal has been 
 unable to hide. It will expose to the public gaze, 
 men who have long and fondly hoped for perfect 
 security, and lay open to the hand of justice, and the 
 ministers of the law, the criminals who have enjoyed 
 their ill-gotten gains in fancied security. 
 
 3. The upbraidings of conscience. Conscience is 
 the voice of God in the human soul. It is a principle 
 implanted by the Almighty, within the bosom of every 
 human being, to teach him what is right and what is 
 wrong. When a man performs that which is accep- 
 table to God, conscience will approve, and when he
 
 208 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 violates the law of God, this faithful monitor will utter 
 its admonition and speak out its condemnation. The 
 power of conscience, of remorse, is great ; and the 
 most remarkable instances are on record, in which 
 conscience has led the criminal to betray himself and 
 confess, not onlj to God, but to man, the wrong which 
 he has committed. I remember having heard of a 
 man who in early life, was induced to rob his own 
 father, by which the poor man was brought to bank- 
 ruptcy and death. The son enjoyed his treasure for 
 awhile, but conscience was busy at work upon his 
 mind. His crime, his fearful crime, was continually 
 before him. True, he did not fear detection. He 
 had buried all traces of his deed so deeply, that he 
 supposed no person could find it out, but his own un- 
 natural conduct was a greater source of trouble, than 
 all the fears of discovery. To drive away these feel- 
 ings, he left the scenes of his infancy and childhood ; 
 plunged into business ; buried himself up in the cares 
 of the world, and in every way possible, endeavored 
 to drown the voice which uttered its ceaseless up- 
 braidings. But every attempt proved to be a failure. 
 The form of his aged sire, as he went down to the 
 grave, wronged of his property, and sorrow-stricken, 
 was before his mind. He heard one voice he saw 
 one object he felt one pang. It was the voice, the 
 reproach, the condemnation of conscience. Twenty 
 years rolled away, and his misery had become so
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 209 
 
 great, that he came forward and confessed his crime. 
 To the members of his own family, some of whom had 
 been born since the wrong was committed, he unfold- 
 ed the story, and then gave himself up to the officers 
 of justice. I doubt not, there are some in every com- 
 munity who suffer from the reproaches of conscience. 
 Concealed crime festers on the heart, and produces a 
 wound which no hand can heal. Under the power 
 and influence of this terrible attendant, the most ag- 
 gravated crimes have been confessed and punished. 
 Murderers and robbers, seducers and forgers, have 
 come forward, and without hesitancy declared their 
 guilt, and asked of the courts of justice, the sentence 
 of the law. The deed, forgotten by all but the crimi- 
 nal, has been told, and the miserable one himself has 
 desired punishment, as the only means of relieving 
 his conscience of its torturing load of sorrow. 
 
 4. TJie providences of G-od. In a most wonderful 
 manner, the providences of God work out his designs. 
 When we contemplate the way in which the Almighty 
 deals with his creatures, we are surprised. At first, 
 there appears to be no order, no design, no harmony, 
 in all his mysterious workings. The law of confusion 
 reigns among men, and we can see but little order in 
 the system of divine providence. But as we gaze, 
 and study ; as we watch the unfolding plan and pur- 
 pose ; as we learn more of God and his ways, we are 
 surprised more at the order and harmony, than we 
 14
 
 210 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 previously had been at the apparent disorder and con- 
 fusion. We find the whole system of divine opera- 
 tions to be regulated by an unerring hand, and con- 
 troled and governed by almighty power. We see the 
 plan of God opened, and rendered successful. Provi- 
 dences which have been as dark as midnight, are now 
 illustrated and made to show forth the praise of God, 
 and surprising order is seen in all the wise arrange- 
 ments. 
 
 In the most mysterious manner does the providence 
 of God sometimes expose crime. A train of events 
 which no human being could have set in operation, 
 leads to the most startling developments, and crimi- 
 nals who have eluded the pursuit, and even the obser- 
 vation and suspicion of a most vigilant police, are 
 discovered and punished, after all hope of detection 
 had died out. The most trifling circumstances will 
 be connected with a series of events which develop 
 and bring to light, deeds which have for years been 
 buried from all human scrutiny. The singular move- 
 ments of some domestic animals ; the words written 
 upon the wadding of some discharged gun ; the cav- 
 ing in of banks, in the sand of which dead bodies 
 have been buried, and other things as trivial, lead to 
 the detection of men who suppose they have con- 
 cealed all tokens of guilt in the graves of their vic- 
 tims. And this providence will assist in the detec- 
 tion of all other criminals of smaller or greater guilt.
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 211 
 
 God is pledged against sin ; he abhors crime, and is 
 resolutely determined to punish all who commit it. 
 His providence, like a key, will unlock the secrets of 
 darkness, and like a skilful hand, will unravel the 
 thread of life, and expose when least we expect it, 
 its follies and crimes. Nor can the sinner control 
 these mysterious workings of the divine mind and 
 purpose. What we may deem best calculated to 
 hide, conceal, and cover up our sins, may be the very 
 thing which shall expose our faults, and bring shame 
 and disgrace. Letters written and disguised ; re- 
 marks made to direct attention to another quarter ; 
 weapons thrown into the bushes by the wayside, all, 
 instead of proving innocence, become proofs of guilt, 
 and are used for a purpose the reverse of which was 
 intended. It is related of an eminent clergyman, 
 that on one occasion while walking in a graveyard, 
 he saw the sexton throwing up the bones of a human 
 being. He took the skull in his hands, and on exam- 
 ination, saw a nail sticking into the temple. He 
 drew it out, placed it in his pocket, and asked the sex- 
 ton whose skull it was. On receiving the necessary 
 information he went to the house of the widow, and 
 entered into conversation with her. He asked her, 
 of what disease her husband died, and while she was 
 giving an answer, drew the nail from his vest, and 
 asked her if she ever saw it before. Struck with 
 horror at the unexpected question, the wretched wo-
 
 212 THE YOUKTQ MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 / 
 
 man confessed that she murdered her husband ; that 
 her own hand had driven the nail into his temple. 
 
 5. The bed of death. Hundreds of persons pass 
 through life unpunished, and though surrounded by 
 observers escape detection, until they come to the 
 bed of death. Hundreds, when they arrive at the 
 last hour of probation, and stand on the outward 
 boundary of life, are compelled by the awful circum- 
 stances in which they find themselves^ to unburden 
 their souls of the crimes which may have rested there 
 for years, and which now come up from the deep re- 
 treats of memory to sting and poison, like venomous 
 serpents. It does a sin-agonized spirit good to con- 
 fess, and the dying hour has extorted many a tale of 
 blood, shame, and folly, from the wretched man whose 
 crime, like a fire shut up in his bones, has been con- 
 cealed only that it may be revealed at last, under cir- 
 cumstances of greater awfulness. 
 
 Go to the death-bed of the wicked man, and you 
 will hear him bewailing his sin. All his life, has his 
 heart been growing harder and harder, until like 
 steel it resisted every impression, but in an hour it is 
 now dissolved. His lips have never been attuned to 
 the simple melody of confession or prayer ; but now 
 one ceaseless stream of confession pours from him. 
 This sin and that, this folly and that, rises up before 
 him, and he asks forgiveness of God and man. In- 
 deed, the soul seldom dares rush into eternity with a
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 213 
 
 weight of sin crushing it down. The dying man 
 would make clean breast, and do all that confession 
 can do to make the burden less. 
 
 To such a death-bed scene -will every unrepentant 
 sinner come ; such broken confessions will be the lan- 
 guage of every heart which is not renewed and 
 changed by God. 
 
 Thus far I have spoken of the detection of sin, as 
 probable. The probability is very strong, as most 
 criminals find it. But there is another view of the 
 subject ; a stronger and more fearful view, to which 
 I will turn your attention. 
 
 II. THE AWFUL CERTAINTY. The language of 
 Scripture, the caution which it gives to all, is, " Be 
 SURE your sins will find you out." " For there is 
 nothing covered which shall not be revealed, neither 
 hid which shall not be known." On this point, the 
 Bible leaves no chance for doubt, no opportunity to 
 cavil or dispute. All sin shall be revealed. Com 
 mitted in the darkest night, or in the brightest day ; 
 in the desert solitude, or in the crowded city ; with 
 or without associates ; by man or woman ; by angel 
 or demon it will not escape notice it will not 
 avoid condemnation and punishment. 
 
 1. Because every sin is seen by God. This is one 
 of the most fearful considerations which can be pre- 
 sented to the mind of the sinner. God sees him. 
 The eye which never slumbers, has watched all his
 
 214 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 movements; detected all Ms faults, and beheld all 
 his sins. He maj have concealed them from father 
 and mother, wife and child ; on earth no mortal may 
 tread, who has the least suspicion of what he has 
 done, and yet all is known. God's eye has been fixed 
 upon the deed, and he knew it all. Darkness, se- 
 crecy, and deception, have been unable to hide it 
 from his view. This terrible conviction seemed to 
 press upon the mind of David, when he exclaimed, 
 " Whither shall I go from thy presence, whither shall 
 I flee from thy Spirit. Thou art in heaven ; thou art 
 in hell ; thou art in the uttermost parts of the earth. 
 Darkness hideth not from thee ; light is ever around 
 thee ; the night shineth as the day." 
 
 With the same propriety every sinner may use this 
 language, and apply it to his own case ; God is every- 
 where. He sees and knows all things, and under- 
 stands even the thoughts of his creatures. It is in 
 vain that an attempt is made to conceal our sins from 
 his notice, or hide them from his gaze. He saw our 
 first parents, when in the bowers of Eden they ate 
 the forbidden fruit ; he saw Cain, when with wicked 
 hand, he smote his brother, and slew him ; he saw 
 the sins of the old world, which was before the 
 flood ; he saw the sins of his own people, the Jews ; 
 and as surely does he see, mark, condemn and 
 punish our sins. Hide them from the minions of the 
 law ; hide them from the good and holy ; hide them
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 215 
 
 from loved friends and hated foes, and yet you can- 
 not hide them from the eye of God. Piercing down 
 through the realms of space, the awful scrutiny of the 
 Infinite One is fixed upon us all, and as soon can we 
 fly from our own existence, as from the gaze of Je- ' 
 hovah. 
 
 2. All sin will be revealed at the day of judgment. 
 We are informed in the inspired word, that a record 
 of all the deeds of men is kept ; that in a book 
 of remembrance, all the good and evil actions of 
 life are recorded. What that book of remembrance 
 is, matters not to us. The great fact that our accu- 
 mulating sins are all to be treasured up, and at last 
 exposed, is a terrible one. None but a man whose 
 heart is hard, or whose mind is darkened 'by sin, could 
 reflect upon it, without serious forebodings. Nor are 
 the circumstances under which this revelation is to be 
 made, calculated to remove, in the least, the sorrow 
 of such an occurrence. We are led to believe that it 
 will take place at the hour when all men, from all 
 climes have assembled before God ; when the world 
 which we now inhabit, and which has been increasing 
 in the splendor of its towns, towers, and temples, for 
 ages, is all wrapped in the flames of the last confla- 
 gration ; when the moon has turned to blood, and the 
 sun has gone out in darkness, and the stars have 
 fallen, like worlds of fire, from their courses on high ; 
 when the clouds are rolled together as a scroll ; when
 
 216 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 from their long resting-places, the dead are starting 
 forth to life and immortality ; when the righteous 
 shall be shouting notes -of glory and singing anthems 
 of deliverance, and the wicked are howling in the 
 madness of despair ; when has come, 
 
 "A scene that yields 
 
 A louder tempest, and more dreadful fields ; 
 The world alarmed, both earth and heaven overthrown, 
 And gasping Nature's last tremendous groan ; 
 Death's ancient sceptre broke, the teeming tomb, 
 The Righteous Judge, and man's eternal doom." 
 
 At such an hour, and under such fearful circum- 
 stances, will the array of crimes which we have com- 
 mitted, present themselves before our bewildered 
 minds. In that solemn assembly will they be read 
 in the hearing of the whole intelligent universe. 
 Then will parents learn for the first time, what have 
 been the lives of their children ; then will children 
 see how many errors clustered around the lives of pa- 
 rents ; then will wives and husbands, brothers and 
 sisters, learn of each other what they never dreamed 
 or imagined before, and the secrets of all hearts shall 
 be made known. 
 
 I well know that with many persons, the idea of a 
 future judgment is rejected as absurd and ridiculous. 
 Not a few indulge in open sport with the solemn 
 things which are connected with it, and even churches 
 are erected, and pulpits built, and men set apart, to
 
 THE DETECTION OF SIN CERTAIN. 217 
 
 I 
 
 silence the fears which the Bible gives in regard to 
 it. And yet, as true as there is a God, and that 
 God is the author of his own inspired word, the hour 
 of judgment will come. Though long delayed hy the 
 goodness and mercy of God, the hour will come. The 
 trumpet of the archangel will startle the living throng, 
 and awaken the pale nations of the dead. The great 
 white throne will be erected ; the righteous and the 
 wicked will be separated, and the winding up of all 
 things will come. 
 
 And now, I ask, in view of all that has been said 
 this evening ; in view of all the solemn considerations 
 which I have presented, should not the young cease 
 from crime and learn to do well ? If in this life, 
 there is a strong probability, and in the life to come, 
 a positive certainty, that sin will be detected, and if 
 detected, punished, should not those who are engaged 
 in practices which they know to be wrong, forsake 
 them ? The declaration of God is, " Whoso covereth 
 his sins shall not prosper," and this declaration has 
 been found to be true in all ages of the world. Crime 
 may prosper for awhile, the wicked man may spread 
 himself like a green bay-tree, and grow tall in his 
 iniquity, but erelong the hand of God will be laid 
 upon him ; his dishonesty and criminality will be ex- 
 posed to the gaze of justice, and his hopes and pros- 
 pects of success will wither away. 
 
 The a-llseeing eye of God is fixed on each of us
 
 218 TEE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 Our hearts, our secret thoughts, are known to Him. 
 "We could not if we would, hide a single feeling, a 
 single motive, a single desire. What folly then, to 
 commit sin ! Darkness and night cannot hide it ; it 
 will be exposed. And let the impression rest on our 
 minds as we separate this evening, that the wicked, 
 the vile, the abandoned, the murderer, the robber, 
 the adulterer, are not to be judged alone. The mem- 
 bers of this congregation will stand with the gathered 
 millions, who come from all the ages of the past to 
 receive their reward, or hear their doom. On that 
 awful day, let me inquire, where according to your 
 present character, you will stand ? 
 
 " When Thou my righteous Judge shalt come 
 To take thy ransomed people home, 
 
 Shall I among them stand ? 
 Shall such a worthless worm as I, 
 Who sometimes am afraid to die, 
 Be found at thy right hand ?"
 
 LECTURE X. 
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 
 WHEREWITH SHALL A YOUNG MAN CLEANSE HIS WAT? BY 
 
 TAKING HEED THERETO ACCORDING TO THT WORD. Psalm 
 
 119:9. 
 
 THE question proposed is of considerable im- 
 portance, and gathers greatness whenever we con- 
 template the duties and dangers of young people. 
 Situated as they are in life, and exposed to its trials 
 and temptations, they need an infallible guide, an 
 unerring counsellor. With no such guide and coun- 
 sellor, impelled by the impetuosity and inexperience 
 of youth, our young men will leave the beaten paths 
 to success and greatness, and wander about in the 
 wilderness of disappointment. No judicious mariner 
 would enter a dangerous harbor for the first time, or 
 sail up a river which has sunk thousands of vessels, 
 without a pilot. However he might control his vessel 
 while out upon the broad ocean, he would fear lest 
 his ship should strike on some hidden rock, or some
 
 i 
 
 220 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 concealed bar, and gt> to pieces, while his skill would 
 avail nothing. Hence, when he arrived at the en- 
 trance of such a harbor, or the mouth of such a river, 
 he would discharge his cannon, and hoist his signals, 
 that the pilot might know of his arrival, and come to 
 guide him into port. The young man needs a guide 
 over the ocean of life, as much as the sailor needs a 
 pilot through the dangerous passage, or up the rocky 
 river. And where can such a guide, such a pilot, 
 over life's sea be found ? The Bible alone presents 
 a perfect standard of human character, and a per- 
 fect guide for man under all circumstances of life. 
 Inspired by God, and written out by holy men, it 
 contains no errors, and admits of no mistakes ; it pre- 
 scribes with great distinctness the duties and obliga- 
 tions of the aged and the young ; it will preserve the 
 way of the youthful traveler, to his journey's end ; it 
 will elevate the mind, improve the heart, and give 
 gladness to the spirit. 
 
 You will, therefore, allow me to recommend the 
 Bible to young men, 
 
 I. AS A PERFECT GUIDE IN RELATION TO THE 
 
 DUTIES OF LIFE. The duties devolving upon us in 
 this life, are numerous and important. The relations 
 which we sustain to others, place us under obligation, 
 and this obligation is nowhere so clearly delineated, 
 as in the word of inspiration. Of importance is it, 
 that we understand what we owe to others, and what
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 221 
 
 they owe to us. A duty imperfectly understood, will 
 be imperfectly performed, and if we have no guide 
 on subjects of such magnitude, we shall make many 
 mistakes and errors. 
 
 1. The Bible teaches the young man his duty to 
 himself. It is the duty of every young man to be 
 intelligent, virtuous, and respectable. In our days, 
 immorality and ignorance are without excuse, and the 
 man who is found with a depraved heart, and a be- 
 clouded mind is not only unfortunate, but guilty. 
 There was a time when man could be ignorant with- 
 out sin, but in the centre of the flood of light and in- 
 formation which is poured upon the world, ignorance 
 becomes a sin, and is in the highest degree disgrace- 
 ful to all who are found in its fetters. This the Bible 
 teaches, and we are commanded to secure wisdom 
 and knowledge, and ample opportunity is given us in 
 the works of nature which are spread out, and the 
 sources of information within our reach. Most per- 
 sons suppose the Bible requires of us, nothing in re- 
 gard to literary and scientific attainments ; that we 
 can be wise or ignorant at our own option ; but this 
 is a mistake. Mind, intelligent mind, is one of God's 
 most precious gifts to man, and he demands of us the 
 full improvement of it. 
 
 The cultivation of self-respect is also enjoined by 
 the Bible, and certain principles are established, by 
 the observance of which, a young man may respect
 
 222 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 
 
 himself, and secure the approbation of all good men. 
 Every person is under obligation so to live, that he 
 can look upon his own conduct and character with 
 feelings of respect, and not shame and mortification. 
 The Bible does, indeed, forbid our estimating our- 
 selves more highly than we ought to do, forbids our 
 attaching an undue importance to our own works, but 
 it nowhere forbids self-respect, nowhere discourages a 
 laudable attempt to secure the well wishes of others. 
 There is a conscious dignity of character, differing 
 from pride and selfish esteem, which is one of the 
 safeguards of youth. It gives a feeling of manliness, 
 and enables its possessor to repel the assaults of temp- 
 tation and in, and stand erect amid descending tor- 
 rents of abuse, supported by the fact that he has a 
 reputation to sustain, a character to lose or keep. 
 
 The pursuit of happiness is also required by the 
 Bible. The avenues which lead to it, are all laid 
 open to the youthful seeker, and he can enter them 
 and secure the prize. The Bible instead of forbid- 
 ding, enjoins the pursuit of pleasure in any reason- 
 able way. It gives permission, even to the Christian, 
 to secure wealth, honor, health, and friends, in a 
 proper manner, and to a proper extent. It only con- 
 demns and prohibits the inordinate and destructive 
 pursuit of things in themselves valuable, but rendered 
 worthless by being too eagerly pursued, and too fond- 
 ly loved. With its unerring wisdom, the word of God
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 223 
 
 has drawn the line between all that is good and all 
 that is evil, and pointed us to one, and lifted up its 
 voice against the other. The young man will appeal 
 in vain to the heathen philosophy, to the philosophy 
 (so-called) of our own times, to the example of the 
 wisest and best men who have ever lived on earth, 
 and find in them all, no perfect model for his imita- 
 tion, no perfect guide to lead him on to success and 
 happiness. But in God's inspired volume, he will 
 have a faultless instructor, an unerring counsellor, an 
 unfailing guide. 
 
 2. The Bible teaches the young man his duty to 
 his kindred and friends. "Honor thy father and thy 
 mother," is one of the ten commandments which were 
 given with smoke and flame on Sinai. " Children 
 obey your parents," is the reiteration of that sublime 
 command, given under the more gentle light of the 
 new dispensation. The Old and New Testaments 
 alike inculcate the duties which we owe to those who 
 have brought us into being, and guided us up through 
 infancy and youth to manhood and womanhood. The 
 good Book has many a precept, enjoining kindness to 
 our aged parents, and unlike all the forms of heathen 
 worship, which look upon the aged as worthless to, 
 society, requires us to love and cherish those whose 
 heads are white, and whose limbs are feeble. It 
 gives on this subject no uncertain sound, but brands 
 the man who forsakes his father and mother, and
 
 224 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 treats them with cold neglect, or cruel unkindness, as 
 one of the most degraded of the race. 
 
 It teaches also the duties which devolve upon the 
 husband and the wife. The relations which exist be- 
 tween these parties, have been misunderstood in all 
 ages. In past times, the best of men have not duly 
 appreciated the God-appointed institution of marriage, 
 and when it has been entered into, its duties have 
 been shamefully disregarded. Everywhere but under 
 the light of Christianity, woman has been degraded 
 from her. true position, denied that standing for which 
 she was intended by her Creator, and made to toil 
 out her life in ignominious servitude. The Bible and 
 volumes founded upon it, are the only books of morals 
 which confer upon woman her real rights, and place 
 her by the side of man as his equal. The Bible alone 
 commands the husband to love the wife, and support 
 and cherish her. Other systems of morality, agree 
 with the Bible in enjoining obedience upon her, but 
 leave the husband to act the tyrant at his will. But 
 the Bible while prescribing her duties, makes his 
 plain also ; commands him to be kind and affectionate, 
 and leave father and mother and cleave to her. 
 
 The Bible is also a guide in the management of 
 children. By this book their support is placed upon 
 the father, and he who refuses to supply the wants 
 of his own family, is said to be worse than an infidel. 
 How children should be educated and governed, the
 
 THE BIBLE A PEKFECT GUIDE. 225 
 
 rules which should control parental authority, are all 
 laid down, and were these rules obeyed, we should 
 not so often be called to bewail the conduct of wicked 
 children. If instead of unlimited indulgence, the 
 chastening rod was oftener used ; if instead of being 
 blinded to all the faults, and alive only to the virtues 
 of the children, parents would, or could look upon 
 them, as others see them, and have an eye open to 
 their vices as well as their virtues, they might save 
 themselves many an hour of tears and lamentation. 
 If instead of abusing their children with blows one 
 minute, and smothering them with kisses the next, 
 making fearful threatenings one day, and unreason- 
 able promises the next, parents would comply with 
 the plain and obvious teachings of Scripture, they 
 and their children would be far happier. Many of 
 the best and kindest parents among us, are educating 
 their children for prisons, almshouses, and scaffolds ; 
 bringing them up to manhood with passions unbridled, 
 temper ungoverned and ungovernable, and moral 
 principles but half cultivated. Could such parents 
 look forward to the future, and see what would trans- 
 pire after they are laid in the grave, or perhaps be- 
 fore that time, could they see their children wretched 
 and miserable, on account of the indulgence of youth, 
 they would be appaled, and start back as from a 
 vision of despair. 
 
 3. The Bible teaches the young man his duties to 
 15
 
 226 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 his fellow-men. By the wise decree and arrange- 
 ment of God, man is made dependent upon his fellow* 
 man. The king on his throne is as dependent as the 
 slave who kneels at his feet, and the boast of freedom 
 and independence, in a strict sense, is idle. Nations 
 are dependent upon each other. America and Eu- 
 rope, are somewhat dependent upon poor, downcast 
 Africa, and superstitious, unenlightened Asia ; and the 
 nation which should attempt to live without the assist- 
 ance of any other nation, would soon fall into barba- 
 rism. Much of our food and clothing come from other 
 climes, and should we discard all but our own produc- 
 tions, we should return to the ignorance and degrada- 
 tion of our aboriginal inhabitants. Individuals are 
 as dependent upon each other, as are nations. If we 
 were equal, independent of each other, who would 
 manufacture the fabric of which our dresses are made ? 
 who would build our houses ? who would brave ocean 
 to bring our food from afar ? who would dig our ca- 
 nals, build our railroads and steamboats, and provide 
 for the wants of the masses of society ? Under such 
 a state we should see each man building his own 
 house, weaving his own dress, cooking his own food, 
 spreading his own blanket, and living entirely for 
 himself. The sick would have no watcher, no kind 
 hand to smooth the pillow and fan the throbbing tem- 
 ples, and the dying would lie in unburied ghastliness. 
 But God in his infinite wisdom has otherwise or-
 
 THE BIBLE A PEEFECT GUIDE. 227 
 
 darned. He has made us mutually dependent on 
 each other, and placed in each human bosom a moni- 
 tor, which recognizes this state of things, and impels 
 us to fashion our lives accordingly. 
 
 Now the Bible clearly and distinctly makes known 
 to us the duty which we owe to others around us. It 
 does not leave us in darkness on such a subject, but 
 points out the line of conduct which as parts of a great 
 brotherhood we are bound to pursue. The Bible 
 recognizes each man as a brother and friend. It ad- 
 mits certain distinctions of condition, but not of fact ; 
 admits a superiority in intellect, in property, in physi- 
 cal strength, but not in blood, and bones, and heart ; 
 admits a superiority in life, in progress, in thought, 
 and being, but not in birth, or in death. One man 
 is king, another is a beggar ; one is a philosopher, 
 another is an unlettered slave ; one is a man of 
 honor, another is a man of ignominy and shame, but 
 they are all brothers ; the king, the slave, the philoso- 
 pher, the pauper, the man of honor, and the man of 
 disgrace, are brothers. This the Bible teaches, and 
 on this relationship depend certain duties which the in- 
 spired writers have stated for our instruction. To- 
 wards all men the great duties of kindness and for- 
 bearance are inculcated, and instead of the old thread- 
 bare maxim, " Might makes right," we have given us 
 the golden rule, " Do unto others, as you would that 
 others should do unto you." Inspired with this spirit
 
 228 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 
 
 the early believers in the Bible went everywhere 
 preaching the word ; the missionaries of our times 
 have labored, preached, suffered, and died, making 
 sacrifices for the good of others ; the house of desola- 
 tion and poverty, has been cheered, and the tearful 
 eye of the mourner, upturned to God ; human society 
 has been transformed, and the most desert places of 
 the world, made to blossom as the rose, beneath its 
 divine influence. Whatever is good and excellent, 
 lovely and pure, and heavenly in human intercourse, 
 we owe to the gospel of the Son of God. 
 
 4. The Bible teaches the young man his duty to 
 government. In the times of the Saviour, the Jewish 
 nation was wearing the Roman yoke. The people 
 were ruled with an iron hand, and made to pay heavy 
 taxes to support the splendor and pomp of the impe- 
 rial monarchs. They justly deemed this taxation, 
 this iron rule, oppressive, and frequently rebelled and 
 raised an insurrection against the tyrants. On one 
 occasion, a penny was brought to Christ, bearing the 
 image and device of Rome. " Is it lawful to give 
 tribute to Caesar, or not ?" they asked. The reply 
 of Christ is full of wisdom, prudence, and consistency. 
 " Render unto Caesar, those things that are Caesar's, 
 and unto God the things that are God's." 
 
 He here plainly inculcates the duty of obedience to 
 the existing government. The Saviour doubtless shared 
 in the opinion generally entertained by the Jews, of
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 229 
 
 ,the injustice of Roman tyranny, but while they were 
 living under that government, enjoying its protec- 
 tion, sharing its honors, they were bound to support 
 it. While they were protected and defended by the 
 armies of Rome, they were bound to obey the laws 
 of Rome. In other places, the sacred writers refer 
 to the example of Christ, in proof of his obedience to 
 law and order. We do not find him inciting insur- 
 rections, or raising mobs and armies, but everywhere 
 teaching submission to civil authority. 
 
 Prayer for governments and rulers is enjoined upon 
 all Christians, and the great duties of man as a citi- 
 zen are recognized throughout the whole inspired 
 word. A distinguished writer* upon this subject 
 says : " When men unite in the establishment of a 
 government, they mutually promise, in all their rela- 
 tions with each other, to yield obedience to certain 
 fundamental principles. The object of these princi- 
 ples is, to define and limit the power of the magistracy, 
 and to prescribe the manner in which this power shall 
 be exerted. The enunciation of these principles 
 forms what is called a constitution. This being once 
 established, it binds all, and it protects all. It is a 
 solemn and mutual contract between every individual 
 on the one part, and the whole community on the 
 other part. Upon the fulfilment of this contract, de- 
 pends the freedom of every individual, and the secu- 
 
 * President Wayland.
 
 230 - THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 rity of his rights, whether civil or religious. We can 
 neither assume powers not conferred upon us by this 
 instrument, nor refuse to carry its provisions into prac- 
 tice, either ourselves or by our agents, without a vio- 
 lation of our solemn obligations. It matters not how 
 overpowering the majority by whom the outrage is 
 committed, nor how small the minority whose rights 
 are infringed, nor how elevated the position of the 
 functionary by whom the act is performed. It is a 
 crime of the deepest dye, and merits and should meet 
 the sternest reprobation of every virtuous man. If, 
 then, such be the responsibility assumed by every 
 citizen of a free government, it surely becomes him 
 to understand the provisions of that instrument, by 
 which this responsibility is created." 
 
 5. The Bible teaches the young man his duty 
 to Grod. There is no other book which authorita- 
 tively establishes the principles, on which as the crea- 
 tures of God, we are governed. In fact, all we know 
 of God with any degree of certainty, is drawn from 
 the inspired volume. We may discern something 
 from the book of nature, but the inscription is dim, 
 and we are liable to make fearful mistakes. The 
 whole heathen world have nature in all its most beau- 
 tiful forms, and day by day, they study it, but does 
 it make them wise ? does it lead them to right re- 
 sults ? Not at all. Instead of worshipping the great 
 Jehovah, they adore the sun, moon, and stars, and
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 231 
 
 bow in worship before the creature instead of the 
 Creator. From nature men may learn that the 
 " Great Spirit" is good, but the delightful and truth- 
 ful views of Divinity we have, could never be learned 
 from the singing bird or the waving forest. High 
 mountains, broad plains, and sandy deserts, have no 
 voice to tell of Him who made them, beyond the bare 
 fact of his power and might. 
 
 But the Bible reveals God in his true character, as 
 the Father, Saviour, and Sanctifier of his people. It 
 also marks out the duty of man, proclaims the neces- 
 sity of unqualified submission, and having proved him 
 a sinner, demands his acquiescence in the way of sal- 
 vation through a crucified substitute. 
 
 The first great duty which is revealed, we find to 
 be, full and perfect obedience to the law of God. 
 This is required on every page of the sacred statute- 
 book, and man is under obligation to give exact and 
 impartial conformance to the decrees of the high 
 chancery of the universe. Obedience or death, is 
 written on every provision of the law of Moses, as 
 with a pen of fire. 
 
 The second duty to God consists in entire submis- 
 sion to all the dispensations of divine providence. 
 These are sometimes adverse and dark. We fail to 
 behold in them, the wisdom or the goodness of the 
 Being who directs and controls them. As they come 
 upon us, one by one, we are apt to forget the charac-
 
 232 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 ter of Him who has dealt with us, in such an aw- 
 ful manner. But the Bible enjoins implicit sub- 
 mission to these solemn exhibitions of the divine 
 character. It shows us how good God is, even in 
 the midst of our sorrows ; how kindness is blended 
 with the blow which falls upon the wayward child 
 of earth. 
 
 " God moves in a mysterious way, 
 
 His wonders to perform ; 
 He plants His footsteps in the sea, 
 And rides upon the storm." 
 
 Directed by this book, the mourner will ascend the 
 mount of vision, and look forth upon the glorious 
 scene which faith presents. His little sorrow will lie 
 at his feet, while he, with uncomplaining voice, lifts 
 up his heart to Hun, 
 
 " Who doeth all things well." 
 
 The third great duty to God, is faith in his Son. 
 Perfect obedience is required, but never has been 
 given in one single instance by mere human beings. 
 Christ alone is sinless on the records of a sinful world. 
 All others are involved in the great transgression. 
 Hence faith in a crucified Saviour has been enjoined, 
 and the nature and object of this faith are declared 
 nowhere else. The wisest of the ancients, never 
 thought of such a mode of saving sinners, and had the 
 world been without a revelation from God, the great
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 233 
 
 idea contained in the cross, would never have been 
 known. 
 
 From the brief, hasty, imperfect view, which I have 
 given of the Bible, as a book delineating the duties 
 of men, we see its value and importance. Without it, 
 man would have been enveloped in gross darkness, 
 but now he stands in the sunlight of the gospel. The 
 young man who makes the Bible the guide of his 
 youth, need not mistake any path of duty and safety. 
 That blessed book will teach him to be honest, tem- 
 perate, frugal, industrious, truthful, and pious. It 
 will make him a good citizen, a faithful friend, a 
 prudent counsellor, a wise law-maker, a benevolent 
 philanthropist, a steadfast, humble, faithful Christian. 
 From the Bible as a guide in all matters *)f duty, we 
 turn to the same book, 
 
 II. AS A PERFECT GUIDE IN ALL CASES OF DAN- 
 GER. Age has experience. The man of hoary head 
 and bending form, has seen much of life. He has 
 had dealings with the stern realities which gather 
 around the pilgrimage of earth, and is, to some ex- 
 tent, prepared to grapple with the dangers which 
 attend every human existence. But youth is without 
 even this narrow and insufficient safeguard. It has 
 no experience of its own, and is liable to run into dan- 
 ger, as well as mistake the path of duty. Experi- 
 ence makes us cautious. The aged approach every 
 doubtful object with hesitating steps, and measure the
 
 234 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 distance before them, ere they advance. But youth 
 sees no danger, and fears no disappointment. The 
 young man dreams of pleasant fields, sweet flowers, 
 gentle streams, green meadows, glittering waterfalls, 
 and cloudless days. That life has deserts, high rock- 
 ribbed mountains, deep and dark ravines, quicksands, 
 and intricate fastnesses, he does not seem to realize. 
 
 You have seen a picture of some city. It was 
 a beautiful engraving, and well proved the skill 
 of the artist. In that picture you might have seen 
 high towers, gorgeous dwellings, splendid temples, 
 long streets well laid out, and rendered beauti- 
 ful by waving trees and blooming flowers. Such a 
 picture makes an impression upon your mind, and 
 your reflections upon that city are of the most plea- 
 sant character. Years roll on and you visit the 
 place, and find yourself sadly disappointed. The 
 artist had presented all that was beautiful, and con- 
 cealed all that was hateful and odious. True, all 
 that he had represented on his picture is there, 
 and more besides. The tall stately spire, surmount- 
 ing an elegant temple is there; but when the sun 
 goes down, that tapering finger casts its shadow along 
 a narrow, filthy street, in which the plague would be 
 ashamed to make its home, or the swine to roam. 
 The massive tower is there ; but it has none of the 
 beauty with which the skill of the artist adorned it 
 The long streets are there, and they are very long
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 235 
 
 but instead of beauty appears deformity. All is noise 
 and confusion, and the traveler turns from it to his 
 own quiet home. 
 
 Young people look at the picture of life, and see all 
 its beauties, while defects are concealed, and conse- 
 quently when they go forth and gaze upon reality, 
 they are disappointed as much as is the traveler 
 while visiting the city of which I have spoken. At a 
 distance all is grand and gorgeous as the picture of a 
 nation's capitol, but when we enter the winding ave- 
 nues of society, we find them as odious and dan- 
 gerous as the winding, crime-frequented lanes and 
 streets of some of the most depraved cities. The 
 disappointment which ensues, causes thousands to be- 
 come vicious and dissolute. They find dangers where 
 they only dreamed of safety, and are bewildered and 
 amazed. The Bible, if carefully studied, and strictly 
 obeyed, will prove a safeguard against all such dan- 
 gers, and lead the young man through life, with no 
 loss of character or happiness. 
 
 " It is the polar star 
 
 That guides the pilgrim's way 
 Directs his wanderings from afar 
 
 To realms of endless day ; 
 Jt points the course where'er he roam, 
 And safely leads the pilgrim home." 
 
 1. The Bible will save young men from dangerous 
 error. These are days of religious error. While set
 
 236 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 
 
 ence is advancing, and rendering herself more secure, 
 while men are settling down on true and sound princi- 
 ples, while the laws -which control the heaven above, 
 and the earth beneath, are becoming better known, 
 while scientific truth has few opposers, and error few 
 advocates, it is true as strange, that religious errors 
 are multiplying, and twining themselves with serpent- 
 like subtlety around the affections of the people. 
 There is scarcely a doctrine of the Bible which has 
 not been denied, and, to some extent, revelation has 
 been shorn of its beauty and dignity. From the un- 
 blushing infidel, who boldly affirms that the idea of 
 God is a fable, the Bible all a lie of practised de- 
 ceivers, to the erratic but sincere seeker for truth, 
 who, while he believes the Bible, interprets it as he 
 understands it, and attempts to narrow down the sub- 
 lime objects of faith, to the grasp of human intellect, 
 and refuses to admit any truth which is above the 
 comprehension of mere human reason. The world is 
 full of books teaching doctrines as false as the Bible 
 is true ; absurd, as truth is plausible ; dangerous, as 
 the way of life is safe. Attracted by the outward 
 adornment of error, the young receive as truth that 
 which the Bible denounces as falsehood, and cling to 
 forms of deception, fearfully ruinous to the immortal 
 soul. The framers of erroneous dogmas have adapted 
 their systems and creeds, to meet and take advantage 
 of the weakness and frailty of humanity. They have
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 237 
 
 advanced sentiments which appeal to depraved man, 
 and bend to his carnal inclinations. They hesitate 
 not to say to the vicious and degraded criminal, 
 " Thou shalt not surely die." They calm the fears 
 of the wanderer from God, and by scattering a few 
 artificial flowers in his path, make him believe he is 
 on the road to heaven. Their systems are like splen- 
 did tombs in groves of cinnamon and orange. 
 
 Not long ago, I saw a splendid sarcophagus in 
 a retreat away from the world's noise and confu- 
 sion. The white marble, the overhanging willow, 
 the skilful chiseling, the beautiful inscription, the 
 calm tranquillity of the spot, and the mournful asso- 
 ciations connected with it, all added melancholy in- 
 terest to the resting-place of the dead. So beautiful 
 was the external appearance of the charnel-house, 
 that an experienced critic would scarce detect the 
 slightest fault, and long after he had left the spot, 
 the skill of that work of art would linger in the 
 memory of the stranger. By and by, a stern and 
 swarthy man came to unldck the door, and reveal the 
 mystery of that lone, but sacred spot. His face was 
 sunburnt, and his arms uncovered.' His whole de- 
 portment gave evidence that he had been familiar 
 and hardened to funereal woe. With a violent move- 
 ment he threw open the iron door, and we stood be- 
 fore the entrance. Slowly we descended into the 
 vault, and found ourselves among the dead. How
 
 238 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 changed ! From the walls the grave sweat was 
 oozing forth ; the rough stone floor was covered with 
 human bones ; one coffin was filled with dust, and de- 
 cayed limbs, another was loathsome with corruption, 
 while in a third, reposed the form of one who had just 
 been interred, the pale and lifelike corpse of a beau- 
 tiful woman. The horrid effluvia, the sight of corrup- 
 tion, soon drove us out into the open air, and the door 
 was shut. Again we looked upon the beautiful monu- 
 ment, and read the lofty inscriptions, but there was 
 no beauty left. We had seen the inside of the vault, 
 and when we gazed upon the exterior, its chiseled 
 form seemed to stand in awful, mockery of the sights 
 of woe within. 
 
 So with false religion. It is a sarcophagus. The 
 hand of some master-workman has been employed 
 upon it, and on its front are sublime inscriptions, 
 which men love, because they compliment our nature, 
 fallen and depraved as it is. But whoso entereth the 
 charnel will find it, not a spacious cathedral, with its 
 altar-fire burning, and its sweet choir chanting some 
 sacred song, and its worshippers bending in humble 
 adoration before the great God, but a house of death, 
 whose walls sweat drops of corruption, whose floor is 
 covered with its own decayed substances, and whose 
 tenants lie in ghastly silence, without spiritual life or 
 vigor. 
 
 The religion of the Bible is far different. Its
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 239 
 
 beauty is not seen until we pass the outer wall, and 
 enter the secret chambers of holiness. To the eye of 
 the mere worldling it stands like some frowning castle, 
 which has defied the assaults of time and change, and 
 in impregnable strength looks down from the moun- 
 tain upon the plains below. It appears stern, and 
 awful in its might, and at a distance, seems to the 
 traveler a huge pile of immovable rocks, amid which, 
 could he climb so high, he would find but little to 
 arrest his attention or employ his time. But let him 
 ascend the hill, let him climb the bare and rugged 
 side of the mountain, and as he approaches the vener- 
 able structure, its beauty will begin to appear, and 
 what from afar seemed great rocks piled together 
 without order, now assumes a form of architectural 
 beauty and grandeur. Let him enter the open gate, 
 and explore the concealed chambers and halls, and 
 he will find himself in the midst of unsurpassed excel- 
 lence. As he advances, instead of confusion and de- 
 cay, will he see order and life, and each step will re- 
 veal to him some form of more dazzling glory than 
 the other. The fortress is changed in his estima- 
 tion to a gorgeous palace, fit residence for imperial 
 monarchs. 
 
 Such being the case, it is wise, it is safe, to make 
 the Bible our guide in all matters of sacred truth. 
 Coming from God, it admits of no mistakes, and is 
 a sure word of prophecy, profitable in all things.
 
 240 THE YOUNG MAN'S FKIEND. 
 
 Guided bj other books men make fatal errors, and 
 plunge headlong to destruction ; guided by this, the 
 haven of eternal rest will soon be found. Let me 
 then exhort young men to embrace no doctrine which 
 this book condemns. Study it for yourselves, and 
 take not the opinions of any man, unless you find them 
 sustained and revealed by God. The Bible was not 
 designed for the scholar alone ; it was written by God 
 for common people ; to be understood by common 
 people; and generally the interpretations given by 
 common people accord best with the truth as it is in 
 Jesus. The great duties which are essential to man's 
 salvation are revealed as clear as noon-day, and those 
 who mistake them, are blinded by sin, or prejudiced 
 by error. Men do not come to so many contradictory 
 opinions because they find them in the Bible, but be- 
 cause they desert the Bible and wander about aided 
 only by the dim lamp of reason. They forsake the 
 great fountain, and drink at little turbid streams 
 which contain poison, and produce death. 
 
 See you, yon bright sun, casting its rays upon us all ! 
 So bright that no human eye can gaze upon it. The 
 man would be a fool who should close his windows, 
 and shut out the light of day, and make his home 
 dark as night, and then light one little taper, in hope 
 to read more clearly than by the light of the " king 
 of brightness." So he exhibits his folly, who turns 
 from the Bible to find truth in works of human device
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 241 
 
 and origin. They are like the taper to the sun, and 
 compared together the difference is as great. 
 
 2. The Bible will save young men from the vices 
 of the world. In regard to crime, the Bible speaks 
 clearly and with decision, and whoever reads it, will 
 be faithfully warned. With this volume in his hands, 
 no vicious man can be innocent. The witnesses 
 against him are found in the book which lies upon his 
 table, and over whose pages he sometimes bends. 
 Whatever the crime may be, it is condemned and de- 
 nounced, and the severe judgments of God pronounc- 
 ed upon it. 
 
 Thus is it with Sabbath-breaking. " Six days shalt 
 thou labor, and do all thy work, but the seventh 
 day is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God." Around 
 one seventh part of our time, around the first day, 
 God has drawn a distinct line, separating it from, 
 all other parts of the week. This little space of 
 time he has reserved for himself, and enjoined the 
 performance of religious duties, and the relinquish- 
 ment of all labor. He has declared that they who 
 violate the Sabbath shall not prosper, and they who 
 profane his sanctuary shall not be innocent. On the 
 observance of this day, the Bible is explicit, and no 
 man can labor, or give the day to pleasure and dissi- 
 pation without fearful guilt. We are taught that Je- 
 hovah looks down from heaven with abhorrence upon a 
 man, who not satisfied Avith laboring and striving for 
 16
 
 242 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEXD. 
 
 gain six days, not content with giving the world six 
 parts of the time, bestows upon it the seventh also ; 
 steals the Sabbath from his Maker, and profanes ita 
 holy hours. If the noise and confusion of earth can 
 ever ascend to heaven, what feelings must the angels 
 have, as on God's day they kneel before Him in 
 speechless adoration, while from the towns and cities 
 below, comes up the sound of the mechanic's ham- 
 mer, and the shout of the pleasure-hunting crowd. 
 
 Should we attend to the instructions of the Bible, 
 how much more appropriately would the Sabbath be 
 observed. Now too many employ the time in regu- 
 lating their accounts, writing letters to friends, read- 
 ing books which have no tendency to produce reli- 
 gious feelings, and others labor still more, about their 
 farms or in their workshops. Experience and obser- 
 vation teach us, that this is not only wicked but alto- 
 gether unprofitable. I doubt not that many a failure 
 is the consequence of book-keeping on God's day; 
 many a bill is unpaid because made out on the Sab- 
 bath ; many a plan is defeated because formed in for- 
 bidden time. God overrules all things, and he will 
 defeat all attempts to make money in his own time, 
 and for one dollar which a man gains upon the Sab- 
 bath, he will lose ten, at some other time. A dis- 
 tinguished lawyer once observed, that he did not dare 
 to prepare his briefs on the Sabbath, for as often as 
 he tried it, he lost his case during the week. He
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 243 
 
 became convinced that God would not allow his day 
 to be abused and violated with impunity, and as a 
 matter of selfish policy, deemed it wise to defer all 
 labor until Monday. Statements like these corres- 
 pond with my own experience, and I have observed 
 that Sabbath-labor never receives the Divine blessing, 
 and long have I expected to fail in plans of a secular 
 nature which may have been formed on God's day. 
 He, therefore, who observes the Bible will hallow the 
 Sabbath, and love the sanctuary; he will delight 
 when it arrives, to devote it to religious pursuits, and 
 though others toil on around him, he will rest. 
 
 Thus is it with profanity. " Thou shalt not take 
 the name of the Lord thy God in vain, for the Lord 
 will not hold him guiltless who taketh his name in 
 vain." But a moment's thought, will show that pro- 
 fanity is awfully prevalent. Some men who stand 
 high in the estimation of the world, who have wealth 
 and intelligence, seldom hesitate to blaspheme the 
 name of Deity. The language of profanity is as com- 
 mon as any other expressions, and the name of God 
 and of Christ are openly and rudely blasphemed. 
 On the floor of our national Congress what is due to 
 respectability and manliness, has so far been forgotten, 
 that honorable members have been known to utter 
 words which would disgrace a hovel of drunkenness. 
 
 From my own observation, and the testimony of 
 others, I am led to believe that few vices are more
 
 244 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 common among young men. Persons who would not 
 commit some other sins are betrayed into this, and 
 practise it frequently. Indeed, so addicted are many 
 to the practice, that they do not know when they are 
 profane. They swear at times when they are uncon- 
 scious of the fact, and often use oaths which they 
 would deny having uttered. The Bible condemns 
 profanity as wicked and foolish ; brands it with Divine 
 displeasure, and positively forbids its use, and he who 
 lives according to this book will never become ad- 
 dicted to it. There is something monstrous about 
 it. To hear a man whose breath is in his nostrils, 
 who is crushed before the moth, calling upon God to 
 curse himself, or his wife, or his child, or his friend, 
 is sad indeed. And yet how many do it every day ! 
 And should God answer these requests, what would 
 be the result ? How many would descend with oaths 
 upon their lips to people the world of darkness and 
 despair ? 
 
 Profanity is a useless, vulgar, wicked habit. It 
 does no good, and much evil, and the wisdom and 
 goodness of God can be seen in its entire prohibition. 
 And yet with God against it, with the Bible against 
 it, with reason and respectability against it, it pre- 
 vails extensively. It is not uncommon to see some 
 brutal fellow, with his team loaded far too heavily, 
 and he cursing, and beating his horse with all ven- 
 geance. How many a man has been known to curse
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 245 
 
 the sidewalk against which he happens to stumble, 
 or the unconscious door-step, against which he falls ? 
 How often do we hear men wishing their families in 
 hell, and calling on God to send them there ? doing 
 this too, while they are in perfect good nature. Pro- 
 fanity is abhorrent to God, and the Bible calls upon 
 all men to forsake it, and all good men will comply 
 with its reasonable requirements. Cowper speaks of 
 the vice, thus : 
 
 "It chills my blood to hear the blest Supreme, 
 Rudely appealed to on each trifling theme ! 
 Maintain your rank ; vulgarity despise ; 
 To SWEAR is neither brave, polite, nor wise. 
 You would not swear upon the bed of death ; 
 Reflect ! your Maker now could stop your breath." 
 
 Thus is it with dishonesty. No book in stronger, 
 clearer terms, or with more authority, condemns all 
 falsehood, and tvrong, than the Bible. " Thou shalt 
 not steal" '"All liars shall have their part in the 
 lake which burneth with fire," are solemn declara- 
 tions of the inspired volume, and he who secures 
 property, influence, reputation, or anything which 
 does not belong to him, in a dishonest manner, it de- 
 nounces with great severity. Other books make al- 
 lowances for certain kinds of dishonesty, practised 
 under certain circumstances, but the Bible makes no 
 such allowances. They sometimes justify deception 
 in trade ; a little stretching of the truth to make a
 
 246 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEXD. 
 
 good purchase or sale ; a little elasticity of conscience 
 in cases "where pecuniary gain or loss is involved ; 
 but the Bible does no such thing. Falsehood is false- 
 hood, whether pronounced by priest, physician, or 
 civilian. Theft is theft, whether committed by gen- 
 teel merchants, or highway robbers. Crime is crime, 
 whether the charge be made against the possessor of 
 millions, or the tattered wretch who has no claim to 
 the earth beneath him, the heavens over him, or the 
 air around him. Wrong is wrong ; kings on their 
 thrones, warriors at the head of marshalled armies, 
 statesmen in a nation's senate, fair women with jew- 
 eled fingers and flowing curls, sires and sons, mothers 
 and maidens, cannot make wrong, right. There are 
 certain immutable principles which God cannot change 
 without reversing his whole nature, and these are 
 among them. Hence, the Bible demands right doing 
 of all men, and condemns wrong in unmeasured terms, 
 and the young man, who has made that book the 
 light of his path, and the guide of his youth will do 
 right. There may be a momentary profit in doing 
 wrong ; a present good in dishonesty, but he who re- 
 veres, loves, and obeys the Bible, will not do it, 
 though a fortune would be gained by it. He knows 
 as he believes the good book, that the curse of hea- 
 ven will rest upon the head of him who departs from 
 rectitude, and though he may prosper for awhile he 
 will ultimately fall.
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 247 
 
 Thus is it with immorality. This vice is clearly 
 and plainly delineated, and its awful enormity ex- 
 posed. No shade of the horrid crime has been left 
 untouched by the sacred penmen, and the most blind- 
 ed worshipper of the world, cannot fail to see it, in 
 its true colors. The novice cannot deceive himself, or 
 be deceived by others, if he will look into the perfect 
 law of liberty, and whoso pleadeth ignorance is guilty 
 not only for the crime, but for the very ignorance 
 which Jie deems his excuse. Nor does the Bible 
 merely forbid this vice ; it goes further and holds it 
 up to the derision of all virtuous men ; it makes it 
 look hideous and ghastly ; clothes it in robes of death ; 
 and suspends over the head of the guilty one, its fear- 
 ful penalties. Its requirements, are no half-way ones. 
 They demand perfect purity of deed, word, and 
 thought ; they require stainless character. And well 
 that it should be so. A bqok of morals should draw 
 the line with unerring distinctness, so that none can 
 cross it without feeling that he is on forbidden ground. 
 Did Scripture leave all these matters vague and un- 
 certain, we should be like men standing where four 
 roads meet, not knowing which one to take, or, like 
 a man on the ocean, without a compass, in a starless 
 night. Thanks to God ! he has not left us in dark- 
 ness. A pillar of fire by night, and a cloud by day, 
 move along the pathway of man, and if he follows 
 that pillar of fire and cloud, he will reach the land of 
 promise.
 
 248 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 3. The Bible will save young men from misery. 
 Man is immortal ; he will live forever. A few years 
 of his existence are to be spent on the shores of time ; 
 the remainder, the countless ages of immortality are 
 to be spent beyond the t grave. Now it is the aim of 
 man to be happy in time and in eternity. All wish 
 to be happy, though some pursue the road to wretch- 
 edness. The Bible tells us how we may avoid misery 
 and secure happiness ; it marks out the line of con- 
 duct in this life, that we may be happy here and 
 hereafter. To be happy in this life, it shows us the 
 necessity of being virtuous. Crime is attended even 
 in this life with punishment, and no vicious man will 
 long escape the consequences. 
 
 The drunkard is punished ; he is miserable. His 
 crime brings countless evils on his head, and involves 
 him in shame and disgrace. He suffers intensely 
 when the effect of intoxication has passed away, and 
 his sober moments return. He then feels that " the 
 way of the transgressor is hard," and sighs to escape 
 from the chains of vice. He feels the sting, and in 
 this life, has awful foretastes of the second death. 
 
 The gambler is miserable. His conscience will dis- 
 turb him, and when away from his boon companions, 
 he will hear the voice of some starving wife and child, 
 whose bread he has stolen away. He must live in 
 the midst of excitement to drown the voices which 
 whisper in his ears such awful words. He dares not
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 249 
 
 be alone, for spectre forms gather around him, and 
 sometimes mock him, and feeling for his throbbing 
 heart, shake it in their iron grasp. 
 
 The sensualist is miserable. " There is no peace 
 to the wicked, saith my God," and until a man's con- 
 science is entirely seared he -will have no rest in 
 crime. Now the Bible informs us, that to avoid the 
 consequences of crime, we must avoid the crime itself. 
 Misery is the result of crime, and he is unwise who 
 expects to find one without the other. 
 
 But men are not subject to misery in this life alone. 
 The future will be divided into different states and 
 conditions, and some will enjoy, and others will suffer. 
 The Bible reveals this, and teaches us how we may 
 avoid sorrow. Suffering in another world is the con- 
 sequence of sin, and some remedy for the evil must 
 be found. The Bible presents it. It holds up the 
 cross ; shows a crucified Saviour ; gives us an aton- 
 ing sacrifice. The burdened sinner might search 
 through the whole labyrinth of heathen philosophy in 
 vain, to find an answer to the question, " How can 
 man be just with God ?" Nature, philosophy, science 
 and art, are all mute on this awfully important theme. 
 They shed not one ray of light upon the subject of 
 the soul's salvation. They are dumb when man most 
 needs instruction, and to every one who asks, " What 
 shall I do to be saved ?" they hang their heads in 
 silence.
 
 250 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 From them, -we turn to the Bible, and find our 
 questions answered, our doubts removed. Man can 
 be just with God through the sufferings and death of 
 the Incarnation ; he may be saved by trusting in the 
 cross of Christ. Herein is the Bible most valuable. 
 It brings life and immortality to light ; unfolds the 
 way of hope ; dissipates the dark shadows which hang 
 over the path of man. The Bible is valuable as a 
 book of history, as a book of science, but more valu- 
 able as a book of LIFE, teaching how the sinner may 
 become a saint, and his name recorded on high. 
 
 " Let all the heathen writers join 
 
 To form one perfect book ; 
 Great God, if once compared with thine, 
 
 How mean their writings look ! 
 Not the most perfect rules they give, 
 
 Could show one sin forgiven ; 
 Nor lead a step beyond the grave ; 
 
 But thine conducts to Heaven." 
 
 Did Socrates or Plato ever tell their disciples how 
 the stains of guilt could be removed, and peace and 
 pardon procured from God ? No, all was dark to 
 them, as to the men of Africa now. They conjec- 
 tured and surmised, but knew nothing. Death was a 
 dark line which separated certainty from uncertainty, 
 and when that line was crossed, the philosopher could 
 go no further. Beyond death, all was darkness. 
 But the gospel opens to us the whole matter, and
 
 THE BIBLE A PEKFECT GUIDE. 251 
 
 settles at once all the doubts of infidelity, and the 
 jeers of scepticism. What wonder, then, that we 
 should love the Bible ? What wonder that vre 
 should make it the guide of our youth, and the com- 
 panion of our old age ? 
 
 " Holy Bible ! Book Divine ! 
 Precious treasure ! thou art mine !" 
 
 Such being the character of the Bible,- such a guide 
 in duty and in danger, it deserves our attention, and 
 as young men, forming our opinions, and striving for 
 usefulness, we should often consult its sacred pages. 
 Sad mistakes are everywhere else, but there are 
 none here. 
 
 Having considered the Bible as a perfect guide in 
 all cases of duty and danger, I will close this dis- 
 course with a few remarks which I deem calculated 
 to deepen any impression which may have been made 
 upon the mind, and inspire a deeper regard for the 
 sacred A r olume. 
 
 1. All good men and many great men, have studied 
 it, and loved it. I know good men might have been 
 deceived in regard to the contents of the Bible ; they 
 may have placed a wrong estimate upon the sacred 
 pages. Humanity is fallible, and man is liable to fall 
 into many errors. The Koran had its believers, and 
 has them now ; the Book of Mormon has its students 
 and disciples ; the insane ravings of Paine are read
 
 252 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 as truth bj many around us, and gross mistakes some- 
 times find lodgement in pious minds. I would not 
 therefore urge the attachment of good men to the 
 Bible, as a positive argument in favor of its worth, 
 but must we not regard such an attachment as strong 
 presumptive proof that the book is worthy of our 
 study and belief. Should we" find the good men of 
 this community all arrayed upon the side of a work 
 just issued from the press, and the bad men arrayed 
 against it, should we not have reason to believe the 
 book a good one ? Suppose on one side should be the 
 man of virtue, the humble Christian, the good citizen, 
 the worshipper of God, the friend of truth ; and on 
 the other side, should be marshalled the gambler, the 
 profane man, the libertine, the errorist, the despiser 
 of God, the enemy of religion, should we not at once 
 say, without reading the book, that it must have 
 something good about it, else good men would not 
 love it, and bad men would not oppose it ? The very 
 fact that the two great classes in society, were on op- 
 posite sides in relation to it, would to some extent, at- 
 test its character. Now what book has been loved more 
 fondly by good men, and what book has been more de- 
 cidedly and hostilely opposed by bad men, than the 
 Bible. While the just, the lovely, the righteous, have 
 endeavored to disseminate its hallowed truth, the 
 wicked have endeavored to crush it. To this end, they 
 have passed laws, banishing it from great nations;
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 253 
 
 they have burned it publicly in the streets ; they 
 have denied its truth, and branded it as a bad pro- 
 duction, until the friends and enemies of the book may 
 be known, by the standard of their moral characters. 
 If we go back in the ages of the world we shall 
 hear Moses, speaking thus in the name of God, of the 
 small portion of the Bible then in the possession of 
 men. " Lay up these my words in your heart, and 
 in your soul, and bind them for a sign upon your 
 hand, that they may be as frontlets between your 
 eyes. And ye shall teach them to your children, 
 speaking of them when thou sittest in thine house, 
 and when thou walkest by the way, when thou liest 
 down, and when thou risest up." God speakhig to 
 the people through Joshua says, " This book of the 
 law, shall not depart out of thy mouth ; but thou shalt 
 meditate therein day and night, that thou mayest ob- 
 serve to do according to all that is written therein ; 
 for then thou shalt make thy Avay prosperous, and 
 thou shalt have good success." David says, " Bless- 
 ed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the 
 ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sit- 
 teth in the seat of the scornful ; but his delight is in 
 the law of the Lord, and in his law doth he meditate 
 day and night." " The law of the Lord is perfect, 
 converting the soul ; the testimony of the Lord is 
 sure, making wise the simple." " Thy word is a 
 lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path."
 
 254 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 " The entrance of thy word giveth light ; it giveth 
 understanding unto the simple." Isaiah exclaims, 
 " To the law, and to the testimony ; if they speak not 
 according to this Avord, it is because there is no light 
 in them." Our Saviour says, " Sanctify them through 
 thy truth ; thy word is truth" Paul says, " I am 
 not ashamed of the gospel of Christ; for it is the 
 power of God unto salvation, to every one that be- 
 lieveth ; to the Jew first, and also to the Gentiles." 
 These all speak as they are moved upon by the Holy 
 Ghost, and their testimony is valuable, because it ex- 
 presses not only the conviction of their own hearts, but 
 also because it echoes the teachings of the Almighty. 
 Descending from patriarchs, prophets, and apos- 
 tles, we find the " Fathers," cultivating the same 
 respect and veneration for the Holy Scriptures. 
 There is a long catalogue of illustrious names, gath- 
 ered from " olden times," who made God's book their 
 study and delight. High in the estimation of the 
 church and the world, they hesitated not to declare 
 their attachment to the blessed volume, which brings 
 life and immortality to light. The learned Origen. 
 the eloquent Chrysostom, the profound Augustine, 
 with Cyprian, Tertullian, Lactantius, Arnobus, and 
 all their pious contemporaries, have been found utter- 
 ing unequivocal and manly testimony to the value of 
 a book, from which they gathered the sublime princi- 
 ples on which all their writings were based.
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 255 
 
 Leaving the "Fathers," we meet with the good 
 men of the middle centuries, and find them with the 
 Bible in their hands, holding it with firm grasp. 
 Even amid the flames of martyrdom, they renounced 
 it not, but declared it to be the only sure guide for 
 man in all matters of religious faith and practice. 
 Jerome of Prague, while the flames curled up 
 around him, and the fagots sent forth their burning 
 heat, cried out, " Oh, Lord God, thou knowest how I 
 have loved THY TRUTH." John Huss, whose ashes 
 after he was consumed, were gathered and cast into 
 the Rhine, died asserting the value of the Bible as a 
 Divine revelation, and ascended to heaven amid the 
 smoke of his own funereal pile, singing songs of praise. 
 Cranmer, though not without his errors, loved the 
 Bible, and died for it, and at last presented unshaken 
 firmness, such only as the religion of the cross would 
 inspire. Call you for witness, to the value of the 
 Bible ? The martyrs of ten centuries would come ; 
 from burning fagots, from bloody blocks, from damp 
 cold prisons, from torturing inquisitions, and stand 
 before you, a mighty throng, uttering from their 
 bloodless lips the testimony of past ages in favor of 
 Inspiration. 
 
 Come down to our own times, and where do we 
 find the good and great men, to whom we are accus- 
 tomed to look for words of wisdom ? They regard 
 the Bible with veneration, and make its hallowed
 
 256 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 pages a study. They turn from the statute-book of 
 nations, from the various volumes of literature and 
 science to the -word of God, and find hi that, more 
 ample themes for contemplation and study. Through 
 the long life of the venerable John Q. Adams, he 
 made the Bible a daily study, and never allowed a 
 day to pass without consulting its sacred teachings, 
 and doubtless to the truths of that book, impressed 
 upon his mind in early life, he owed much of the 
 greatness of his after years, in all his intercourse 
 with men, he gave evidence that his mind and heart 
 had come into contact with the awful facts revealed 
 in the blessed volume, and from those facts, his soul 
 had gathered greatness and grandeur. Nor was the 
 Sage of Quincy alone in his attachment to the Bible. 
 Jackson, Harrison, and Polk died animated and 
 cheered by the news of salvation, and departed this 
 life, full of hope for another which the gospel present- 
 ed before them. Nor are these alone. The records 
 of science, art, and literature, abound with great 
 names, who have not been ashamed of the religion of 
 Jesus. I mention not these instances supposing that 
 any glory is reflected upon the Bible by being believ- 
 ed by great men. That is impossible. As the word 
 of God, the Bible stands far above all human attempts 
 to honor or defame it, and man can no more confer 
 glory upon the Bible, than can some little planet 
 confer honor upon the bright sun around which it
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GtttDE. 257 
 
 revolves, and from which it receives its brilliant 
 illumination. But the fact, that great and good 
 men have loved the Bible, is a source of encour- 
 agement to others of fewer years, and less cultivated 
 minds. 
 
 2. The Bible has claims as a look of history and 
 literature. In no other volume can we find an au- 
 thentic account of the creation of the world. Histori- 
 cal writers do not pretend to take their readers back 
 to the time, when the world rolled up out of nothing- 
 ness, and became a certain and beautiful planet, re- 
 volving around the sun. They tell us nothing of the 
 early wonders of nature, and we are in darkness (as 
 far as they are concerned), in reference to the primal 
 condition of our race. But the historian of the Bible 
 has given us a beautiful, and reasonable account of the 
 creation of land and water, bird and beast, man and 
 woman. He has taken us along to the flood, to the 
 burning of Sodom, to the phenomenon which attended 
 the exodus from Egypt, to the history of the Jewish 
 tribes, and other great events which profane writers 
 have left untouched. Nor does this history consist 
 of a mass of improbable statements flung together, to 
 win the confidence of the credulous and superstitious. 
 There is a beautiful consistency in all the Mosaic 
 writings, which wins our confidence by appealing to- 
 reason and judgment. The worth of the Bible in this 
 respect is inestimable, and the Old Testament should 
 17
 
 258 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 have a high place in the library of every student of 
 history. 
 
 Should some old volume be found which contained 
 the history of the race, back to the times of Abraham 
 and his contemporaries, and that volume embodying 
 proof of its genuineness ; with what interest would it 
 be perused by every literary man ! It would be 
 translated into many languages, and edition after edi- 
 tion would issue rapidly from the press. A book we 
 have, which goes back to the beginning ; to the time 
 when the earth, noAV beautified and smiling with flow- 
 ers, was formless, and covered with darkness. A 
 book we have, which furnishes us with a concise his- 
 tory of the world from the creation of the first Adam, 
 to the death of the second Adam, and gives us an in- 
 sight into the habits, customs, and views of men dur- 
 ing the progress of four thousand years. 
 
 The Bible also has specimens of logic, scarcely 
 equaled ; close argument, which has never been sur- 
 passed. The Epistles abound with close reasoning, 
 and no one who has read them attentively, can be in- 
 sensible to this feature. The arguments of Paul are 
 most' convincing, and prove beyond controversy, not 
 only the strength of his own mind, but also the 
 strength and truth of the doctrines he taught. " The 
 Analogy of Religion to the Constitution and Course 
 of Nature," by Bishop Butler, has been read by many 
 a man, simply because it is an admirable specimen of
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 259 
 
 logic, a profound and sublime argument upon the sub- 
 ject named. And with equal propriety, may the 
 writings of Paul be read with admiration for the force 
 and strength of his logic, the beauty of his diction, 
 and the grandeur of his doctrines. 
 
 The Bible also abounds with poetry of the highest 
 order. Almost one-third of the volume is poetry of 
 sublime character, and no uninspired man, in his most 
 lofty flight, ever ascended so high as the monarch-muse, 
 and the prophet-poet. There is a peculiar effect pro- 
 duced by singing or reading the poetry of the Bible, 
 which the poems of uninspired men fail to produce, 
 and they who admire the strains of Bryant, Longfel- 
 low, Hemans, and Burns, or even the greater poets, 
 Shakspeare, Milton, Young, and Pollock, and pass 
 by unread the inimitable poems of Isaiah, David, and 
 Habakkuk, exhibit but little taste of head or heart. 
 The man who claims distinction as a scholar, will not 
 fail to be familiar with the classic poets. He will 
 know something of Homer, Hesiod, Pindar, Anacreon, 
 Euripides, and Sophocles ; and can his education be 
 complete without an acquaintance with the poetry of 
 the Hebrew commonwealth ? Can he study Greek 
 and Roman poets and historians, and neglect the 
 Bible, the most sublime of all poetry, the most ancient 
 of all history ? 
 
 8. The Bible is a DIVINE revelation. In this fact 
 consists its strength. We love it for its history and
 
 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 poetry, for all the truth which it contains, but if it 
 was not a divinely inspired book it would be compara- 
 tively worthless. But coming from God, it is clothed 
 in robes of divinity. It gives no uncertain sound, 
 but has the authority of the infinite Jehovah for all 
 its teachings. 
 
 I have now presented the Bible as the young 
 man's guide, and in bringing this series of lectures 
 to a close, I would urge every one to adopt the 
 inspired volume as the light of his pathway, and 
 his constant companion. The young man is going 
 out to battle with the vices and evils of life. The 
 Bible is the sword which he is to carry with him. If 
 he 'takes worldly wisdom, human systems of salvation, 
 man-devised reforms, he will strike with his blunted 
 sword upon the sides of unwounded error, in vain. 
 But armed with the doctrines of salvation, he will be 
 a successful warrior, and meet unharmed the assaults 
 of all the foes of God and man. Let then our young 
 men gird on this armor and use it well, and never put 
 it off, or lay it down, until the battle is fought and the 
 victory won. 
 
 That was a beautiful case of Leonidas, who guard- 
 ed the straits of Thermopylae against the armies of 
 Persia. When commanded by Xerxes to lay down 
 his arms, the noble Spartan sent back the reply, 
 " Come, and take them." So the young man should 
 never be found without his spiritual armor, with which
 
 THE BIBLE A PEKFECT GUIDE. 261 
 
 he is able to quench all the fiery darts of the adver- 
 sary. To every challenge given by the hosts of sin 
 and death, he should reply, " In the name of the 
 Lord, 1 lift my banner," and to every demand to lay 
 down his arms, he should send back the glorious an- 
 swer, " Come, and take them." The men who com- 
 posed that little Spartan band were slaughtered. 
 They chose death in preference to inglorious submis- 
 sion, and but one was left to tell the tale. On the 
 scene of the battle a monument was erected to the 
 memory of the fallen heroes, and on that monument 
 was an inscription, written by Simonides : " stran- 
 ger, tell it at Lacedcemon, that we died here in obe- 
 dience to her laws /" 
 
 And when the young man falls, doing battle for 
 the right, posterity will erect a monument over his 
 grave, and inscribe upon it, more holy words, than 
 graced the monument of the fallen Spartans. His 
 influence will be felt on society long after his body 
 has corrupted in the grave, and his name been lost to 
 the memory of the busy throng, and from on high he 
 will look down upon the whitening harvest, the glad 
 results of the seed which his own hands cast upon 
 the soil. 
 
 With a few instances, presented to show the con- 
 trast between the death-bed of the believer and the 
 unbeliever in the Bible, I will end the discourse. 
 
 It is related of the Emperor Julian, that he enter-
 
 262 TEE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 tained a mortal hatred against the religion of Je- 
 sus, which he once professed, but from which he 
 had fallen. To prove the prediction of the Sa- 
 viour false, he determined to rebuild the temple; 
 but while doing it, fire ran along the ground and con- 
 sumed the workmen and the materials, and the work 
 was abandoned. This failure increased his hatred, 
 and during his whole life he exerted himself to the 
 utmost to crush religion, but was foiled hi every at- 
 tempt. When wounded on the battle-field, and about 
 to die, he seemed to have a view of his own guilt and 
 wickedness, and catching a handful of blood from his 
 own gushing side, threw it towards heaven, exclaim- 
 ing, " Galilean, thou hast conquered." 
 
 Thomas Paine, of our own times, was an avowed 
 unbeliever. He lectured and wrote against the Bible, 
 and took every public occasion to revile the Saviour. 
 But when he came to the dying hour, all was terrible. 
 In his miserable tenement at New Rochelle, worn 
 down by intemperance, and attended by the miserable 
 woman whom he had seduced, he died in torment, at 
 one time calling on God for mercy, and at another 
 moment, cursing with awful blasphemy. 
 
 Francis Newport, lived an infidel, and a man of 
 pleasure, but died a death of indescribable anguish. 
 The scenes of his life, his efforts to crush the Bible 
 and the cross, all thronged around him, and horror- 
 stricken, he declared with parting breath, that hell
 
 THE BIBLE A PERFECT GUIDE. 263 
 
 itself would be a refuge, if it could hide him from the 
 gaze of God. 
 
 Having seen the unbeliever in the Bible die, hav- 
 ing heard his doleful exclamations, having listened to 
 his awful Avails of woe, go to the dying couch of those 
 whose lives have been formed, and whose hopes are 
 rendered sure by the promises and requirements of 
 God ; and how great the difference will be ! In one 
 case, you have had the shriek of anguish, the malig- 
 nant blasphemy, the horrid execrations ; in the other 
 case, you have calmness, joy, peace, hope, and eter- 
 nal life. 
 
 Polycarp, bishop of Smyrna, died for the Bible 
 when he was ninety-five years of age. When the fe- 
 rocious Roman rabble thronged around him, and he 
 was abjured to offer incense to the heathen deity, and 
 save himself from fire, he meekly answered, "lam 
 a Christian, and cannot do it" 
 
 Sir Walter Scott, when dying, said to his son-in- 
 law, "Bring me a book." " What book ?" Lockhart 
 asked, with emotion, " Can you ask, my son, what 
 book ? there is but one" said the noble man, and 
 the BIBLE was placed by his side. Its hallowed truth 
 glanced in lines of light all around him when he died, 
 and amid its brilliancy he departed. 
 
 President Edwards died, saying to his friends who 
 anxiously thronged around him, " Trust in God, trust 
 in Grod." He realized how precious it is, to lean 
 upon the strong arm of the infinite One.
 
 264 . THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 I have done. As you go out to-day to a conflict 
 with life, my young brothers, to whom I have espe- 
 cially spoken, let the Bible be your guide through 
 duty and danger ; your companion in the dark hours 
 of adversity, and beneath the genial influences of 
 prosperity ; your friend in life ; your support in the 
 hour of death. Called as you are to breast the waves 
 of vice, you will need a perfect armor ; a sword whose 
 edge will never be blunted, but will cleave asunder 
 the rocky heart of sin. The Bible is that armor, 
 that sword is the everlasting truth. With it in your 
 possession, you will conquer. Go forth strong-handed, 
 and strong-hearted to a conflict with all life's ills, and 
 before you the hosts of sin will yield. Let your life 
 be such that you can say in dying, 
 
 " I have liv'd, and have not lived in vain ; 
 
 My mind may lose its force, my blood its fire, 
 And my frame perish even in conquering pain . 
 But there is that within me which shall tire 
 Torture and time, and breath, when I expire."
 
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