' i !!' ' 
 
 
 
 
on FT OF 
 Miss Sue Dunbar 
 
THE 
 
 REV. ANTHONY ATWOOD. 
 
 "Give attendance to reading." 
 
 " Study to show thyself approved." ST. PAUL. 
 
 " By wisdom, is a house builded." SOLOMON. 
 
 PHILADELPHIA: 
 PUBLISHED BY CROLIUS & GLADDING, 
 
 No. 341 Market Street, above Ninth. 
 
 FOR THE ATWOOD LITERARY INSTITUTE. 
 
 1842. 
 
Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 
 1842, by ANTHONY AT WOOD, in the Clerk's Office of 
 the District Court in the Eastern District of Pennsylvana. 
 
 /' 
 
 / f 
 
 PRINTED BY KING AND BAIRD. 
 
TO 
 
 YOUNG MEN, GENERALLY, 
 
 AND ESPECIALLY TO THE MEMBER^ 
 OF THE 
 
 ATWOOD LITERARY INSTITUTE, 
 
 ASSOCIATED TOGETHER 
 
 FOR MUTUAL IMPROVEMENT, 
 PREPARATORY TO 
 
 IS THIS 
 
 Small 0Km 0f 
 
 HUMBLY INSCRIBED, 
 BY THEIR FRIEND, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE circumstances which have occasion- 
 ed the writing of this work are simply 
 these. Two years since the Author de- 
 livered a course of sermons, on Sabbath 
 evenings, to the young people of his con- 
 gregation, in which an effort was made to 
 point out the course which all young per- 
 sons should pursue, if they ever hoped to 
 obtain character and standing, or wished to 
 be of advantage to the world. Soon after- 
 ward, a society of young men was formed 
 in the neighborhood, calling themselves the 
 " Atwood Literary Institute." The first 
 knowledge the Author had of the circum- 
 stance was, his being called upon to sug- 
 gest a suitable motto for the society, after 
 it had been formed, and its constitution 
 fixed. 
 
 Subsequently he was waited on by a 
 committee of the society, and requested to 
 
VI FREFACE. 
 
 deliver a sermon to young men, on an 
 evening designated. A copy of which was 
 afterwards requested for publication, which 
 was for various reasons declined. Then 
 was introduced the subject of a small book 
 for the special benefit of young persons, 
 which though short, should embody all the 
 most important matters necessary for them 
 to know and keep constantly before their 
 minds. 
 
 The Author was not unaware of the 
 amount of labor and time the preparation 
 of such a work would require when he 
 agreed to undertake it, or the slang that its 
 publication might call forth from the idle 
 or envious. Yet encouraged by the hope 
 of doing some good, to those for whom he 
 has for years, felt a deep and abiding in- 
 terest, the work was commenced in the fear 
 of God and with a humble reliance upon 
 his blessing. 
 
 It is not pretended of course, that all is 
 said upon any one of the topics introduced, 
 that might have been. This would require 
 a larger work, the price of which would 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 have placed it out of the reach of the 
 very class for whose benefit it was intended, 
 and thus defeated the Author's design. Be- 
 sides, it would have required more time 
 than he had to spare from other and press- 
 ing engagements. 
 
 Imperfections will doubtless be found 
 both in thought and style, by many who 
 may chance to peruse it. If, however, the 
 object of the writer is gained, and the work 
 is useful to those for whose improvement 
 it has been undertaken, he is quite careless 
 of other consequences. He wishes neither 
 to preach nor write for show. Professing 
 to be a utilitarian in all respects, it is 
 hoped that no other feeling has influenced 
 him in penning a solitary sentence herein 
 found, The most that has been aimed at, 
 is clearness and force. No book written 
 for the popular good, should in the Author's 
 deeming, contain a sentence, requiring to be 
 read twice in order to be understood. The 
 meaning should stare the reader in the face 
 at once, or it will not be long remembered. 
 Young persons of but little leisure, spe- 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 cially require such a style. It is believed, 
 this has not been lost sight of from first to 
 last. 
 
 After this remark the Author need not 
 say, that the work is principally intended 
 for the working classes, on this point it 
 speaks for itself. These, if any, are the 
 neglected ones. Their parents are too apt 
 to neglect their intellectual cultivation, and 
 themselves are prone to think too little of 
 their own powers and capacities. As a 
 consequence, they fail to use the necessary 
 efforts to develop their own native energies. 
 Circumstances in their view, preclude the 
 possibility of their ever being men of gene- 
 ral intelligence, or rising above the humble 
 prospects of their birth. They have not 
 time to read, as it is all devoted to toil and 
 manual labor. And they are so beset by 
 other difficulties and temptations, as to be 
 prone to yield to necessity or the force of 
 circumstances, and therefore, use no efforts 
 to rise to respectability and intelligence. In 
 these pages an effort is made with such to 
 banish discouragement, inspire with hope, 
 
PREFACE. IX 
 
 and lead to activity and diligence, in the 
 improvement of every fragment of time 
 allotted them, in faithful application to 
 study. The Author himself would have 
 been thankful for such a work, during his 
 minority. And he indulges the belief that 
 no one possessing the least ambition, can 
 read it without advantage. 
 
 He also hopes that parents and guardians, 
 will feel sufficient interest in the present 
 and future well-being of those committed 
 to their care, to purchase a copy for each 
 lad in their families, allow him make it his 
 own property, and faithfully advise him to 
 read it. Its perusal may inspire ambition 
 where there is none existing, and create an 
 appetite for general reading, where other- 
 wise it would never have existed. 
 
 Sabbath School Teachers may find it to 
 their advantage to read this small volume. 
 It will not occupy much of their time. And 
 if it shall induce greater reading habits, 
 and provoke a worthy emulation in doing 
 good, the time and labor thus bestowed 
 will riot be lost. From the ranks of Sabbath 
 
X PREFACE. 
 
 School Teachers, are doubtless to arise 
 many useful ministers and influential mem- 
 bers of society. They should, therefore, 
 improve the present in faithful preparation 
 for the future. Time lost now, will be a 
 serious source of regret at a not very dis- 
 tant day. 
 
 The work is exclusively the property of 
 the "Literary Institute 57 above named. 
 They bear the expense and responsibility 
 of its publication, and the profits, (if any,) 
 are theirs, to aid them in furnishing them- 
 selves with a useful library. The Author 
 has been at the trouble of writing and 
 passing it through the press, solely for their 
 benefit and that of young men generally 
 who may take the pains to read it. 
 
 And he sends it into the world accom- 
 panied by his fervent prayers for its useful- 
 ness. That it may lead some at least, into 
 "the good and right way," and tend to 
 preserve many others from those vices 
 which have already ruined thousands. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Philad., Dec. 17th, 1841. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 CHAPTER I. 13 
 
 Responsibilities of the young. Interest they 
 awaken in society Influence they will have in 
 future Obligation to parents Apprenticeship 
 Object of it. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 35 
 
 On intellectual attainments. Education defined 
 Moral education Way to obtain it Discipline 
 necessary Discouragements Too late to begin 
 Edmund Stone Want of time Economy of time 
 Want of taste Taste cultivated W. Scott's let- 
 ter to son Bad memory May be strengthened 
 Want of means Inducements. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 84 
 
 On the importance of character. Study useless 
 without it The man without a shadow Self-re- 
 spect Personal appearance Respect for others 
 Morality and Religion Benefits of early piety 
 Attention to Church Benefit of a firm faith En- 
 ergy of character Dr. Franklin, &c. Toil useful 
 Honesty Economy Kindness and good nature 
 Manliness always to be preserved. 
 
Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. - 125 
 
 Dangers common to youth. Antagonist influ- 
 ences Ambition Habits of useless intercourse 
 Gambling The road to ruin An example Pro- 
 fanity Infidelity Light reading Amusements 
 Theatres Disobedience to parents An awful ex- 
 ample Politics. 
 
 CHAPTER V. - 177 
 
 Duties of young men. Usefulness Support 
 
 Churches Sabbath Schools Temperance Ee- 
 
 sponsibilities. 
 
THE YOUNG MAN'S WAY TO HONOR. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 RELATIVE IMPORTANCE AND RESPONSIBILI- 
 TIES OF THE YOUNG. 
 
 EVERY one should duly know his condi- 
 tion and feel his responsibilities, at every 
 point in his history, if he wishes at the close 
 of his life to review the past with any satis- 
 faction. The principal part of the misery 
 and regret experienced in advanced life, if 
 traced to its source, would be found to ori- 
 ginate in carelessness and early personal 
 neglect. The importance of youth is learn- 
 ed by observing its bearing upon after life. 
 And this observance, with the course to 
 which it leads, constitutes, mainly, if not 
 2 
 
14 RESPONSIBILITIES OF THE YOUNG. 
 
 entirely, the difference between men, as to 
 honor or dishonor, success or failure. The 
 lad who sees in himself all the lineaments of 
 the future man, though now in miniature, 
 and wisely commences their full develop- 
 ment in early life, will stand among Princes. 
 On the contrary he who lives by no rule, 
 carelessly suffers the years of youth to pass 
 away, and grows up as "nature's own 
 child," without meditating his important 
 relation to the world in which he lives, will 
 in nine cases out of ten, be a useless cum- 
 berer of the ground. 
 
 I would have the young reflect on the 
 interest they awaken in society. Almost 
 every movement, either great or small, has 
 them for its object. The man of business, 
 whose energies, both of body and mind, are 
 taxed to the extent of their bearing, whose 
 time and talents are continually occupied in 
 the pursuit of gain, does not do all this 
 barely for himself. For his own support 
 and comfort he has enough already, and 
 could retire and take his rest for the bal- 
 ance of his days. But he looks to his 
 
INTEREST TAKEN IN YOUTH. 15 
 
 children with an eye of parental fondness, 
 and wishes to provide for them. The mind 
 of the philanthropist, which is ever intent 
 on the lasting good of community, seeks it 
 not so much in efforts, having their bearing 
 on those of mature years, or advanced age, 
 as on the young and growing. He well 
 knows that the former will soon be no 
 more, and the latter must occupy their 
 places in every department of society. For 
 whose benefit are schools and colleges 
 erected, and maintained at such a vast ex- 
 pense of time and treasure? On whose 
 account are so many books written and 
 published, on every subject within the 
 range of human knowledge and research, 
 simplifying every science, and opening all 
 the mysteries of naiure to the common eye ? 
 For what are Sabbath Schools maintained 
 and promoted in almost every church in 
 the Christian world ? The object of the 
 whole is the improvement of the youthful 
 mind and heart, and through them -the 
 bettering of the mental, moral, and social 
 condition of mankind. 
 
16 IGNORANT OP WHAT WE MAY BE. 
 
 And is all this a light matter to be care- 
 lessly heeded and little appreciated by those 
 for whose benefit the whole exists ? Will 
 they, can they be so reckless as to dash the 
 cup of blessings from their lips, and disap- 
 point the cherished expectations of those 
 who seek their best interests now and 
 throughout their being ? Whatever may 
 be the course of some, I am persuaded by 
 present indications, that the great majority 
 of young men who receive the impulses of 
 this enterprising age, and the educational 
 advantages which it affords, will be pro- 
 perly roused to activity in the faithful im- 
 provement of their lofty advantages. The 
 qualifications necessary to meet these vast 
 responsibilities, are riot to be gained by a 
 listless course of inaction nor by luxuriat- 
 ing in the dreamy paths of fashionable ease 
 and idleness. This will rust out the better 
 faculties of our nature, as well as fix ruin- 
 ous habits, to destroy which the regrets of 
 a whole life will be wholly unavailing. 
 
 The author of our being and directer of 
 our lives has wisely concealed from us fu- 
 
IGNORANT OF WHAT WE MAY BE. 17 
 
 ture circumstances. It is not in the power 
 of man to tell what responsibilities he will 
 have to bear, or what offices he will have to 
 fill in the nation or church. Could this be 
 ascertained at an early period of life, each 
 one would naturally pursue the studies 
 which would confer a qualification, for that 
 specific employment, and shut himself out, 
 more or less, from all other knowledge. But 
 as the tendency of this would be to cut 
 society up into various professions, and by 
 interposing an impassable bar between 
 each, would disunite and estrange the mem- 
 bers of a great family from each other, 
 Divine Providence has forbidden it. As no 
 man, therefore, can foresee what will be 
 required of him in the future detail of life's 
 affairs, common prudence admonishes all 
 to be ready for almost any thing that can 
 in propriety be required of a man. I once 
 knew a lad who lived in the country, and 
 attended a country school some three 
 months in each year ; where the principal 
 branches taught, were reading, writing, and 
 arithmetic. But few in that school deemed 
 
18 A PLACE TOR EVERY ONE. 
 
 it necessary to go further than this. All 
 other learning than that immediately re- 
 quired in ordinary country business was 
 supposed to be useless, and even deleterious, x 
 as it fostered human pride. The lad re- 
 ferred to, had somewhere seen a small 
 geography, and became desirous to have 
 some knowledge of it ; but his friends dis- 
 couraged and finally prevented him from 
 undertaking it, alledging that it could not 
 possibly do him any good, as he would 
 never be placed in circumstances where 
 such knowledge would be required. But 
 how were they mistaken, for in the ar- 
 rangements of the wise disposer of events, 
 that same lad became a minister of Jesus 
 Christ to dying man. And what his ^p- 
 dents 'deemed unnecessary, and therefore, 
 not only neglected to teach him, but refused 
 to let him learn, he had to acquire at a great 
 disadvantage when engaged in the respon- 
 sible and active duties of his profession. 
 
 Nor is this a solitary case scores of the 
 same character might be adduced was it 
 deemed necessary ; but it is not. No man 
 
A PLACE FOR EVERY ONE. 19 
 
 can tell until some experience has furnished 
 him the material of calculation, what part 
 he is to act, or what place he is naturally 
 or habitually best fitted to occupy. The 
 world is before every youth, and although 
 all offices and places may seem occupied 
 and so filled up that no place is left for him, 
 yet those laws are always at work which 
 having made way for those before, will 
 clear a place for him also. But little did 
 Patrick Henry or his friends, dream of the 
 part he was destined to occupy, when he 
 was lounging about some stream with his 
 angling rod, or traversing some wood with 
 his gun. There can be no question, but that 
 he frequently regretted in after life the man- 
 ner in which he had spent his boyhood and 
 youth. He was a great man it is true, but 
 his greatness was that of the mountain tor- 
 rent, rather than the steady fertilizing 
 stream. His grasp upon a subject was 
 strong and tremendous, but not continuous. 
 Had he accustomed himself to hard study, 
 and disciplined his mind in early life, he 
 would have been a far different man, and 
 
 
20 ALL HAVE INFLUENCE, 
 
 most probably, much more useful to his 
 country. 
 
 Every man is more or less responsible for 
 the doings of the world. Each individual 
 is a constituent part of general society, and 
 has influence somewhere for which he will 
 have to account either in this life or the 
 one which is to follow. It is when view- 
 ing youth in this light, that they are magni- 
 fied into the greatest importance. They no 
 longer appear isolated and solitary, but are 
 seen rising to the exertion of a power of 
 most fearful consequence to themselves and 
 others. 
 
 It was this that led Mr. Wesley to say 
 " I reverence a young man because he will 
 live and act when I am dead." This is the 
 sentiment of every real philanthropist, who 
 instead of looking barely upon himself 
 thinks and feels for his race. Young men 
 are the strength and hope of the nation. 
 Our fathers who formed our laws, and 
 * fashioned those institutions of which we 
 are so proud, and of which we are wont to 
 make our boast, are dead, or dying, and it 
 
ALL HAVE INFLUENCE. 21 
 
 is a question of no small interest, who shall 
 rise up to take their places of honor and 
 trust ? The rising generation must do it. 
 But will they be qualified to stand in their 
 places and discharge their duties with re- 
 spectability and honor to their own, and 
 the country's advantage ? It has ever been 
 true, < that when the wicked rule, the people 
 mourn.' And such is the present state of 
 politics in our country, that the unworthy 
 and vicious are most apt to gain the ascend- 
 ency. Having no fixed moral principles to 
 serve as a restraint, they are at liberty to 
 descend to the low arts of trick and bribery, 
 loud huzza's and street broils, to effect 
 their purposes. While the upright citizen, 
 guided by correct principles, and taking no 
 step but what is strictly honorable ; is fre- 
 quently prevented from reaching the place 
 for which he is well qualified, because he 
 will not meet the vulgar on their own 
 ground. 
 
 It was a remark of a distinguished man 
 in our nation's history, that " in a govern- 
 ment founded on the public will where 
 
22 VIRTUOUS PRINCIPLES. 
 
 the voice of the people, can build up or pull 
 down at pleasure, it is a truth of plain and 
 fearful import, that this will must be under 
 the regulation and control of sound and 
 enlightened principles, or virtue will very 
 soon have no defence, and vice no check. 
 In no age of the world, has there been 
 greater need of high moral and intellectual 
 culture. What else shall restrain the excess 
 of passion, or check the outbreakings of 
 misrule and licentiousness ? Vain will be 
 the majesty of our laws, and unavailing 
 their sanctions, if religion shall be despoiled 
 of its authority, and conscience lose its in- 
 fluence. Let these foundations be destroyed, 
 and the main pillars of our institutions, must 
 sink together, in one general ruin, and history 
 add another page to the sad record of de- 
 parted republics." 
 
 Thus will every youth, see that he cannot 
 live to himself, confine his influence at 
 pleasure, nor shake off the weight of re- 
 sponsibility which is placed upon him with- 
 out his consent ? Your parents to whom 
 you are indebted for your being, and all the 
 
OBLIGATION TO PARENTS. 23 
 
 cares which early childhood required, look 
 to you for some return, for their vast ex- 
 penditure of time and toil, in your behalf. 
 A life of virtue and manly rectitude re- 
 flecting honor and credit upon them, will 
 be the only reward which to them will be 
 satisfactory. Obedience and filial affection 
 on your part, is indispensable to their hap- 
 piness and to yours. Let no youth, on 
 arriving at majority deem himself absolved 
 from the necessity of further obedience to 
 parents. Though he is permitted to act for 
 himself to appropriate at pleasure the pro- 
 ceeds of his own labor, yet is he not free of 
 the law of his parents. Nor will he be until 
 they are laid in the dust. The same law 
 that required them to bear with his youth- 
 ful follies, and watch over him night and 
 day, in sickness and health, now binds him 
 to reciprocate their acts of goodness, and 
 lend the supporting hand of kindness, to 
 tottering age. Obedience to parents is the 
 first commandment with a promise, whilst 
 disobedience and neglect, is visited with 
 Heaven's severest retributions. It is seldom, 
 
24 MUCH NOW DONE FOR YOUTH. 
 
 indeed, that the disobedient and unkind to 
 parents, live out their full time, or are as 
 successful in temporal business as other 
 men. They are generally unhappy in mar- 
 riage, and their children in turn, treat them 
 with the same carelessness and disrespect. 
 Thus do miseries and misfortunes seem to 
 cleave to the family, as by an entail, like 
 the leprosy of Gehazi. If but one word of 
 advice to youth were allowed me, I would 
 say, be obedient to parents, and never bring 
 a disgrace on those who best love you. 
 
 Much is now doing for the youth of our 
 own country, and of the civilized world. 
 Lyceums and Literary Societies, abound 
 every where, and are still increasing, in 
 number and usefulness. Time and money 
 thus lavishly expended, are far from being 
 wasted, though many efforts may seem to 
 fail. Much seed thrown into the ground, 
 is destined to perish, tyy a combination of 
 circumstances, but still the husbandman is 
 rewarded, by what comes to maturity. So 
 that no one should give place to discourage- 
 ment in view of the ruined about him. Too 
 
OBJECT OF IT. 25 
 
 much labor cannot be bestowed upon the 
 youthful portion of community ; too much 
 careful supervision on the part of parents 
 and guardians, cannot be had. 
 
 If I could awaken in every youthful 
 bosom, a true sense of the dignity of his 
 being, the magnitude of his duties, the re- 
 sponsibilities of his situation, and induce 
 him to look well to his future destinies, as a 
 man and an immortal being, my purpose 
 would be fully realized. What each one is 
 to be hereafter throws around him an over- 
 whelming interest now. It is principally this, 
 which gives such an importance to all young 
 persons. The design of these pages, is to 
 arouse their activity if it slumbers, to call 
 out their energies, by early and well direct- 
 ed exercises ; that when their muscles, and 
 whole physical form shall be fully developed, 
 they may be intellectually and physically, 
 men. Men qualified for any, and every 
 station in life, to which they may be called 
 by the voice of their fellows, or the provi- 
 dence of God. 
 
 3 
 
6 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 It should never be thought a disgrace to 
 be an apprentice. If it be called bondage, 
 it is an honorable bondage. I see but little 
 difference between the rich and the poor, in 
 this particular. All have to pass through 
 a course of preparation for after life. The 
 more affluent send their sons to school from 
 early youth, to the first stages of manhood. 
 During this time, they are virtually appren- 
 tices, subject to strict rules,which they dare 
 not transgress; under continual fear of su- 
 periors ; tasked during the whole day, and 
 sometimes for a good part of the night, to 
 the utmost stretch of their abilities, they 
 have but little time they can call their own. 
 Like apprentices to a mechanical business, 
 they are generally away from home, and 
 the indulgent influences of parental kind- 
 ness 5 have to eat at a common table, but 
 .illy supplied with luxuries, and barely suf- 
 ficient in quantity to meet and satisfy the 
 calls of nature. 
 
 The difference you perceive is more in 
 
HONORABLE. 27 
 
 name than reality. Nor is the toil of the 
 student at College, a whit less severe and 
 laborious than that of the lad apprenticed, 
 to learn any ordinary mechanical business. 
 It is therefore difficult to see why the con- 
 dition of one should be less reputable than 
 the other, or why the common apprentice, 
 should be esteemed and looked upon as 
 an inferior to the College student. Both 
 are learning a business, which is to prepare 
 them for after life, that they may be service- 
 able to themselves, and the community in 
 which they are to live. Nor can it ordi- 
 narily be said with truth, that professional 
 men are more important to the world, than 
 industrious and upright workingmen. 
 
 It is the lot of every man to work his way 
 through life in some form, for this, he must 
 seek a preparation during minority. All 
 men come into the world alike ignorant of 
 either mechanics or science, and have to be 
 taught by^those who were once as destitute 
 as themselves. Can that, therefore, be 
 deemed disreputable which is the common 
 lot of all, and is to prepare for the doings 
 
OBJECT OF APPRENTICESHIP. 
 
 of manhood, and the acquisition of wealth 
 and comfort ? The prejudice gainst labor 
 is as unnatural as it is unphilosophical and 
 wicked. It has injured society more than 
 all the revolutions that have ever occurred. 
 
 In becoming an apprentice it is true ; a 
 man is put under the power and control 
 of another, but it is to gain power for him- 
 self. It is a brief and voluntary surrender 
 of liberty for the sake of future gain, and 
 should be considered as purchasing what 
 another has to sell, at a given price. In all 
 such transactions, there are two parties, 
 both having rights, which each is bound in 
 all fairness and honor to respect. The 
 master is obligated to teach, instruct and 
 fulfil all his promises, and the apprentice is 
 equally pledged to reverence and obey. 
 There is however in some instances a rest- 
 lessness on the part of the latter, a desire of 
 freedom and independence before the alloted 
 time, wholly inconsistent with either his 
 present happiness, or future well being. 
 
 The indulgence of this discontent is most 
 disastrous in its consequences. It shuts 
 
DISSATISFIED. 29 
 
 out all desire of intellectual improvement, 
 renders him who harbors it, constantly 
 miserable, sours his disposition, prevents 
 his faithfulness, and in some cases leads him 
 meanly to abscond. Among all the cases 
 which have come under my observation 
 where this has occurred, I have not been 
 able to discover one that has eventuated 
 well. This rash step, generally taken in 
 haste, is often followed by the most serious 
 consequences, and I believe always by sin- 
 cere, regret. Such in general, have but half 
 learned their trade, so that it is difficult for 
 them to find employment ; are thrown 
 among strangers who feel little or no inter- 
 est in their welfare, and are therefore ex- 
 posed to misery and humiliation, a thousand 
 times worse than that from which ] they 
 have fled. Add to these, the fear of pursuit 
 and detection, the constant sense of shame, 
 and fearful burden of conscious disgrace, 
 which are ever haunting the mind, and you 
 have some idea of the wretchedness of him 
 who has broken his obligation, by fleeing 
 from his employer. 
 
 3* 
 
30 GOOD CONDUCT REWARDED. 
 
 I cannot too strongly guard you against 
 such a course. If you wish to sustain cha- 
 racter and win the respect of those about 
 you, now and hereafter, you will conduct 
 yourself very differently. Strict conscien- 
 tious obedience which will not allow you to 
 answer again," is the duty of all, in your 
 circumstances. The way to honor, is hu- 
 mility. He who humbleth himself now 
 shall be hereafter exalted. The master 
 mechanic who now has the direction of 
 several hundred hands, was once in your 
 condition. By compelling himself content- 
 edly to submit to his lot then, he learned 
 his business, obtained the good will of his 
 employer, and established a character which 
 has served as a passport to his present stand- 
 ing and influence. 
 
 If the promptings of a praise- worthy 
 ambition lead you to hope for similar emi- 
 nence and standing, the way is open before 
 you. In order to such a result the right 
 course must be taken now. Rise early and 
 be at your work, spend no time in idleness 
 and careless chat, carry about you an open 
 
SEEK EMPLOYERS INTE REST. 31 
 
 and frank countenance, and treat all your 
 fellow apprentices with due respect. Be 
 ever seeking the interest of your employer 
 as you would desire others to do by your- 
 self, if placed in his circumstances. By this 
 course you will gain his confidence and 
 secure his favor, a matter of vast importance 
 to every apprentice. Nothing so effectually 
 injures and blasts the earthly prospects of 
 those in your situation as to be called " eye 
 servants." This you are to avoid by deter- 
 mined diligence, and the most resolute faith- 
 fulness. Your work should be done as 
 well and with as much speed, when alone ; 
 as when under the eye of your employer. 
 
 Strict truth and honesty, in small matters 
 as well as large, should be ever maintained. 
 The reverse of this, will ruin you forever, 
 however industrious you may be. For 
 every falsehood you tell now, and every 
 penny's worth, directly or indirectly ab- 
 stracted from your employer, you will have 
 to pay a fearful interest, in the future details 
 of life. 
 
 It is quite possible that you may deem 
 
32 DISCIPLINE GOOD. 
 
 your work too hard, the labor too severe, 
 and the discipline too stern and rigid. But 
 of this you are at present, not a good judge. 
 It may be for your good, by giving you a 
 hardy constitution, preventing evil habits, 
 and teaching you the way to success in 
 business when of age. At any rate, you 
 will see the reason for this hereafter, and it 
 may serve a valuable purpose in the future 
 direction of your life. A present seeming 
 evil may be the germ of lasting good. 
 Never repine under your circumstances, 
 but always be cheerful and kind. In the 
 place of business, in the family, among your 
 associates, always be ready to lend such 
 assistance as may be required, and thus 
 win upon the affections of all. In serving 
 others, ever bear it in mind, that you are 
 also effectually benefitting yourself. When 
 you come of age, these acts of goodness, to- 
 gether with a character of honesty, veracity 
 and industry, will not be forgotten. The 
 employer will feel that he cannot spare you 
 from his business. And during revulsions 
 in trade, whilst thousands are out of employ, 
 
KINDNESS. 33 
 
 you will generally find work enough to 
 keep yon busy. And when you desire to 
 start business on your own account, the 
 character which has been established by the 
 toil of years, will be found serviceable, in 
 raising up friends to assist, and stand by 
 you in the hour of greatest need. 
 
 While preparing for the future scenes of 
 active life, you will do well never to forget 
 the interest the world has in you, and the 
 important claim it has upon you. In a few 
 years you will be free of those restraints 
 which now confine your influence to a small 
 circle. The knowledge now possessed may 
 serve present purposes, but as you will soon 
 have much more to do with mankind than 
 at present, you should be constantly enlarg- 
 ing your knowledge of men and things. 
 Your evenings therefore ought not to be 
 spent in trifling amusements, but in reading 
 history, attending lectures, or in some way 
 of intellectual or moral improvement. This 
 is your best, and perhaps your only time. 
 Improve it while you may, or you will cer- 
 tainly have many seasons of unavailing 
 
34 KINDNESS. 
 
 regret hereafter. Employ every leisure 
 half hour, nor carelessly while away one of 
 them. These every man can find in some 
 part of the day or night, sufficient if duly 
 regarded and rightly spent vastly to improve 
 his mind, and prepare him for future re- 
 spectability and usefulness. 
 
INTELLECTUAL ATTAINMENTS. 35 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 ON INTELLECTUAL ATTAINMENTS. 
 
 MAN possesses a twofold nature, a body 
 and a mind, a physical and a thinking 
 power. It requires both to constitute man. 
 Both as they now exist require education, 
 to be able to serve the purposes for which 
 they were originally intended. The term 
 education is said to be derived from e and 
 duco, to lead forth, bring out and develop, 
 and is, therefore, as correctly applied to the 
 body as the mind. When used in relation 
 to the former, it implies that process by 
 which the faculties of the physical man are 
 trained and wrought up to their full capa- 
 cities and capabilities. When used in 
 relation to the latter, it comprehends the 
 full development of the intellectual and 
 moral powers. There is no necessity of 
 
36 EDUCATION. 
 
 urging the importance of physical culture, 
 as all men seem agreed upon this. Every 
 father is desirous his son should learn some 
 branch of business, some art or trade, by 
 which he will be able to maintain himself 
 in respectability. For this purpose he is 
 early apprenticed, and sent from home to 
 serve several long years in acquiring the 
 knowledge of some handicraft. No man 
 could walk, talk, write his name, or per- 
 form any physical operation, seemingly the 
 most, simple and easy, had he not received 
 physical education. These all seem to be 
 voluntary, and easy of accomplishment to us 
 now, having long since taught our muscles 
 to obey the dictates of the will. Had no 
 one taken pains with us in childhood, and 
 instructed us in the imitation of sound, 
 we should this day have been mutes, had 
 we survived so long. So, the student in 
 any science has to submit to a long course 
 of practice in connexion with theory in 
 order to be a proficient. The lady must sit 
 for many weary hours at the piano before 
 she can play well, however versed she may 
 
EDUCATION. 37 
 
 be in the theory and principles of music. 
 Skill in mechanics of all kinds furnishes 
 illustration of the same fact. 
 
 But mental and intellectual education is 
 that upon which I choose more especially 
 to dwell. This may include what is ordi- 
 narily meant by it. The acquisition of one 
 or all the languages one or all the sciences 
 taught in modern schools. But this by no 
 means exhausts the term, as it is certainly 
 possible to have all these, together with a 
 fair preparation for business, and yet be 
 grossly deficient in good intellectual and 
 moral education. The education frequently 
 given in these days makes a man a fop a 
 silly coxcomb or a pretty play thing, in- 
 stead of a full grown gentleman. It may 
 give him a partial knowledge of many 
 matters, proper enough for him to know, 
 but ts, too apt to leave him lamentably 
 ignorant of what most concerns him. We 
 have said that the object of education 
 is to bring out and develop the entire 
 powers and capacities of the man. It is 
 intended to give depth and profundity to 
 4 
 
38 EDUCATION. 
 
 the understanding strength and tenacity 
 to the memory, that what is written on it 
 may remain, to be called up for service in 
 the necessities of after life. It must con- 
 trol the passions curb and subdue animal 
 nature, so as to give ascendency to the 
 rational powers. Man, forgetful that he is 
 a rational being, intended to be controlled 
 by reason, understanding, and judgment, by 
 indulging in full play his animal passions, 
 becomes brutal in his character and habits. 
 Right training connected with suitable in- 
 struction, gives him a view of his own 
 proper character, tells him he is a man in- 
 stead of a brute, and therefore, should be 
 controlled and governed by manly princi- 
 ples and the authority of reason. 
 
 The will and affections, those main springs 
 and most potent sources of human action, 
 are to be taught, trained and subdued, that 
 they may serve and readily obey the dicta- 
 tion of the understanding and judgment, not 
 control them. The passions, which in all 
 untutored men, possess a savage wildness 
 and ferocity education is intended to tame 
 
EDUCATION. 39 
 
 and socialize. That man, whatever be his 
 pretensions to learning and science, who 
 cannot control his passions but suffers 
 himself to get heated and intoxicated with 
 rage, at every untoward and unexpected 
 incident, or trifling opposition from his fel- 
 lows, is not a well educated man. He may 
 have learned to master the most difficult 
 problems in mathematical science, and the 
 science of government but he has not 
 learned to master himself. Be it known and 
 ever remembered that "he who ruleth his own 
 spirit is better than he who taketh a city !" 
 All the disgraceful broils and tumults among 
 men in high or low life, from the lofty halls 
 of Congress down through all the interme- 
 diate grades of society to the abhorred fights 
 in a dirty grog-shop, are caused either by a 
 deficient, or a total want of education. 
 
 It is education also that furnishes a cor- 
 rect taste, (a most important matter,) chast- 
 ens the imagination and gives ability to think 
 long and closely on any given subject. It 
 commits to a man the power to confine his 
 
40 MORAL EDUCATION. 
 
 attention as he chooses, by which he can 
 gain knowledge to an indefinite extent. 
 Creation is before him, and intellectual edu- 
 cation will serve as the box of instruments 
 by which he who has it can measure its 
 length, breadth and depth, he can weigh, 
 dissect and analyze at pleasure. 
 
 Moral education is the developement and 
 proper discipline of the moral faculties, than 
 which nothing can be more important to 
 men circumstanced as we are. It is the 
 implantation of moral principles, and con- 
 veying to the mind that instruction which 
 teaches us to know both the nature, and 
 how to discharge the various duties which 
 we owe to God and our fellows. It defines 
 the difference between truth and error 
 virtue and vice inspiring us with a love 
 and admiration for the former, and a hor- 
 ror and hatred to the latter. By it we are 
 taught, that as we are immortal, we are 
 therefore accountable beings and that all 
 our words and works, thoughts and indul- 
 gencies, are reviewed by a higher power, 
 
MORAL EDUCATION. 4l 
 
 who will call us to an account at a future 
 period, for the manner in which we have 
 spent our time, and used our talents. 
 
 But I will cease my definitions, and at- 
 tend to what is of far more importance to 
 all young persons namely, a description of 
 the way in w r hich the intellectual and moral 
 powers may be duly developed. It is one 
 thing to show what is to be done, and an- 
 other to point out the best and most ready 
 way of doing it. Both are necessary, but 
 not equally so, as we are naturally more apt 
 to know what is duty, than to perform it 
 when known. The necessity of mental ac- 
 quirement, must be apparent to every think- 
 ing man at an early age. All must more or 
 less clearly see the distinction it invaria- 
 bly makes between men otherwise similarly 
 circumstanced. This itself, one might sup- 
 pose, would be a sufficient spur to urge 
 every young man forward in the laborious 
 work of intellectual acquirement since it 
 invariably raises those who submit to it, to 
 some degree of eminence and consequent 
 
42 DISCIPLINE OF THE MIND. 
 
 usefulness, and the neglect of it never fails 
 to be attended with merited disgrace. 
 
 I should not fail, therefore, to admonish 
 you of a fact with which you are doubtless 
 more or less acquainted, that the intellectual 
 faculties, like the physical, generally remain 
 stationary or dwindle away without exer- 
 cise, diligent, persevering and active. There 
 is no other known way in which the mind 
 can gain strength become capacious and 
 powerful. Knowledge must be gained to 
 serve as capital on which to do business, 
 but knowledge is not all for which you are 
 to labor. The discipline and habits formed 
 in the acquisition of wealth, are far more use- 
 ful to its possessor, than the mere possession 
 of the acquired treasure. Hence the differ- 
 ence ever to be observed between those who 
 have property left them, and such as have 
 gained it by the sturdy efforts of personal 
 industry. You are to seek strength of mind 
 by useful discipline of the faculties posses- 
 sed, rather than any fancied amount of know- 
 ledge. In order to this, it is essential to have 
 some rule of life some plan of study and 
 
STUDY BY RULE. 43 
 
 daily application. And when the plan is 
 wisely laid, never suffer it to be sacrificed, 
 though perseverance in it should cost you 
 much. Though it cause you to neglect all 
 the light works in creation, and the flood of 
 pretty annuals lie unread on your right and 
 left. Though it cut you loose from many 
 previous associations, hitherto held dear as 
 your very existence, and on which you once 
 thought your happiness mainly depended. 
 Breaking off from a course of study wisely 
 arranged to read every trifle that is prettily 
 done up, is like leaving solid and wholesome 
 food, to partake of hurtful sweat-meats, 
 which enervate rather than strengthen. 
 The greatest men sometimes read the few- 
 est books, but what is read is made their 
 own. Not committed it is true for no wise 
 man commits much but analyzed digest- 
 ed, and well understood. Like Wm. Penn, 
 they have read men as well as books, and 
 hence their readiness in grasping and com- 
 prehending every matter that comes before 
 them, as by intuition. 
 
44 DISCOURAGEMENTS. 
 
 DISCOURAGEMENTS. 
 
 MANY are deterred from a faithful course 
 of intellectual application, because they have 
 little hope of success. They have long 
 since conceded the point, that large facili- 
 ties and abundant opportunities of wealth 
 and leisure, are essential to a good educa- 
 tion. And because they have unfortunately 
 been born without these, and providence 
 has to them dealt out bounties with a penu- 
 rious hand, they give up to despair, and 
 foolishly yield to what seems to be their 
 fate. A little reflection will convince the 
 thoughtful that their discouragements are 
 premature and hasty. Time and other fa- 
 cilities, it is true, are very desirable, but far 
 from being essential to either usefulness or 
 greatness. The history of the past our 
 principal guide in such matters, fully proves 
 this. It has often been said, and the asser- 
 tion is fully sustained by the evidence of 
 literary biography, that intellectual great- 
 ness is most commonly found at first in ob- 
 
WEALTH UNFAVORABLE TO GREATNESS. 45 
 
 scurity and poverty. In what are called by 
 the conventional habits of society, the higher 
 walks of life, where opulence pampers sen- 
 suality and flatters vanity, it is almost im- 
 possible to attain intellectual eminence. 
 And for this reason, a smooth sea never 
 makes a skilful sailor. Poverty and obscu- 
 rity being dependent upon its own resources, 
 must remain unhonored or rise by the might 
 of its own energy. A quality is acquired in 
 such circumstances, which ever lies at the 
 foundation of true greatness, viz. a sense 
 of self dependance. 
 
 I believe that the history of the world 
 will prove, that to be engaged in active em- 
 ployment is propitious and favorable to in- 
 tellectual cultivation, rather than injurious. 
 And perhaps one principal reason for it is 
 the physical frame is kept in a healthy state 
 by its activity, which is always favorable to 
 mental action, and intellectual strength. 
 And it is a well known fact, that the mind 
 accustomed to meet and overcome difficul- 
 ties, becomes more and more daring and in- 
 trepid, and more willing to tax its powers 
 
46 SUCCESSFUL APPLICATION. 
 
 to the last point of endurance. There is 
 also a pride in human nature, which delights 
 in excelling those who are accustomed to 
 deem themselves our superiors. Whatever 
 may be the reasons for it certain it is, if 
 history speaks truth, that some of the great- 
 est men the world has known, have arisen 
 from very inconspicuous situations. Epic- 
 tetus the moralist, was born a slave, yet be- 
 came the pride of stoical philosophers, and 
 the friend of the worthiest Roman Empe- 
 rors. Murray, who tho' dead now, speaks 
 and instructs in our schools, was a shep- 
 herd's boy. Franklin was once a printer's 
 apprentice, yet he became one of the most 
 distinguished philosophers and statesmen of 
 his age. Sir Humphrey Davy, though the 
 son of a wood carver, became the first and 
 most daring chemist of his time. Columbus 
 was a sailor, and by his enterprise became 
 a vast benefactor of the world. And our 
 own Roger Sherman, whose statesmanship 
 was so well appreciated during the revolu- 
 tion and since, was a shoemaker. And 
 time would fail, as well as the patience of 
 
TOO OLD TO BEGIN. 47 
 
 the reader, were I to enumerate all who 
 have risen from the common walks of life 
 to greatness. Herschel, once a soldier in 
 Nova Scotia, who has fixed his name among 
 the stars, and the well known blacksmith of 
 New England, who, though steadily pur- 
 suing his business, has well nigh mastered 
 all the languages of this * babbling earth.' 
 Shakspeare, Adam Clarke, and Richard 
 Watson, whose works will continue to 
 please and profit mankind as long as litera- 
 ture, science and virtue shall continue to 
 command admiration all worked their way 
 to eminence without the advantages of 
 wealth and leisure. 
 
 TOO OLD TO BEGIN, 
 
 Discouragement with some arises from 
 an additional circumstance. They con- 
 ceive themselves too far advanced in life 
 ever to hope for success, though they were 
 now to make the attempt. I would com- 
 
48 EDMUND STONE. 
 
 mend such to the noble examples of Dr. 
 Adam Clarke, Rev. Samuel Drew, the writer 
 on the philosophy of mind, whose works will 
 ever praise him, and Dr. Franklin, all of 
 whom, with many others that might be 
 named, are evidences of what can be done 
 after 'the usual time of completing an aca- 
 demical course is past. Edmund Stone, 
 also, is a case in point to encourage those 
 who begin study late. At eighteen years 
 of age, he was in the employ of the Duke of 
 Argyle, to whom his father was gardener. 
 The Duke one day, finding a copy of New- 
 ton's Principia on the grass plat in the gar- 
 den, was astonished at hearing the garden- 
 er's son claim the book. He immediately 
 enquired of him, " Do you understand geo- 
 metry and Latin and Newton?" " I know a 
 little of them said the young man." " But 
 how, enquired the Duke, did you gain this 
 knowledge?" Stone replied, " a servant 
 taught me ten years since to read. Does 
 any one need more than the twenty-four let- 
 ters in order to learn every thing else that 
 one wishes ?" After giving the Duke an 
 
NEVER TOO LATE TO IMPROVE. 49 
 
 account of the manner in which he had ac- 
 quired his learning, he ended by saying, 
 " And this, my lord, is what I have done. 
 It seems to me we may learn every thing, 
 when we know the twenty-four letters of 
 the alphabet." 
 
 Knowledge is not only a source of gain, 
 but a means of happiness. And if it has 
 been neglected at the most suitable time of 
 life, it certainly should not be urged as a 
 reason for its neglect during life. If it is 
 calculated to lighten the burdens of life, and 
 confer a measure of comfort not attainable 
 without it, surely it can never be too late to 
 undertake it. 
 
 There is a great error prevailing, which 
 seems to have become a common senti- 
 ment, that education beyond bare reading, 
 writing, and some knowledge of figures, is 
 useful only to professional men. That to 
 farmers, merchants, and mechanics, it is al- 
 together unnecessary. And as the course 
 of life is most generally fixed by the time 
 men reach majority, it is deemed needless 
 to pursue any branch of education, except 
 5 
 
50 NEVER TOO LATE TO IMPROVE. 
 
 that which has a direct bearing upon the 
 business we intend to follow* But this is 
 reducing the value of knowledge to a most 
 pitiable standard, and degrading that which 
 is intended for food to the mind, into a mere 
 article of trade and merchandise. Where- 
 as, learning derives its principal importance 
 from other and far loftier considerations, 
 viz. from its enlarging the intellectual ca- 
 pacity, and the influence it has directly or 
 remotely upon the happiness of individuals 
 and communities in time and eternity. If 
 men were mere animals, then their chief 
 wisdom would consist in simply making a 
 living. But as they possess a lofty nature, 
 and immeasurable capacities, it is not good 
 for them to be without knowledge. This 
 remark is true of all men, in every employ- 
 ment, I care not how menial. Many g. rich 
 gem now lies hid beneath the vast ocean, 
 which, if brought up and polished, would 
 be of great service to mankind. And there 
 can be no question but there are many 
 minds buried and hid by circumstances, 
 which if properly brought out, would shine 
 
WANT OF TIME. 51 
 
 astonishingly, and be of vast service to the 
 world. Nor has any man a right to say 
 that his mind is not of that cast, until he 
 has fully tried its powers and tested its ca- 
 pacities. 
 
 WANT OF TIME. 
 
 But with some, still another difficulty is 
 urged as a bar to compliance with what is 
 here recommended. The pursuit of know- 
 ledge requires time, and it is deemed im- 
 possible for the mechanic, who toils ten 
 hours or more in the day, to devote much 
 space to the purposes of mental cultivation. 
 With such as have been blessed with lei- 
 sure, and have been students by profession 
 all their days, this difficulty might be deem- 
 ed insurmountable. But it is far otherwise 
 with me. Manual labor and constant em- 
 ployment, I believe, is favorable to intel- 
 lectual cultivation, instead of being an in- 
 jury. It teaches to value time and not 
 
52 ECONOMY OF TIME. 
 
 while it away as a thing of nought. The 
 student of rare leisure spends much time in 
 learning that which is wholly useless, not to 
 say injurious. The business man is in no 
 danger of thus misapplying his powers or 
 wasting precious time. But what is more, 
 the man who has been instructed in an art, 
 or had the powers of his mind called out 
 and developed by exercise in business, is 
 thus fitted with quickness of apprehension, 
 and a sagacious shrewdness which mightily 
 aid in the acquisition of all other knowledge. 
 If you wish to find quickness of wit and 
 readiness of repartee, you must go among 
 the industrious and working classes. This 
 activity of mind, doubtless arises more or 
 less from habits of physical activity, and 
 the healthy flow of blood and spirits, which 
 such activity never fails to promote. 
 
 Another circumstance favorable to the 
 acquisition of useful knowledge among the 
 working classes is they have learned a se- 
 cret which the more affluent have never 
 been taught the economy of time. The 
 man accustomed to labor or active business, 
 
ECONOMY OF TIME. 53 
 
 rises at an early hour takes no nap at 
 noon, and toils on until his day's work is 
 finished. Every day is worth a certain 
 sum to him, and he as much thinks of 
 throwing away his money as his time. 
 With these habits let him direct his atten- 
 tion to his book and he is sure of success. 
 If he therefore wisely divide his time and 
 live by rule, there is no ground for fear in 
 his case. And who has not some leisure 
 hours on hand every day? Whose time is 
 so accurately divided between toil and 
 sleep, as to allow no intermediate space for 
 mental improvement? I will venture to 
 say not one such can be found. All that is 
 generally needed is a disposition to find 
 time for such purposes, and it is at hand. 
 There are spare hours in every man's life 
 one or more during each day, which if 
 multiplied by the days of the year, would 
 amount to many weeks and months. All 
 that is necessary is to improve these with 
 care, and no man need be a novice in the 
 knowledge of science, history, or theology. 
 He who cannot command days, must be 
 
54 ECONOMY OF TIME. 
 
 content with hours, and in default of these, 
 he must prize minutes. A few only in the 
 morning, at noon and in the evening, duly 
 improved in reading, will in a year, take 
 you through a voluminous history. And a 
 few years thus having passed, will have 
 placed the industrious student a planetary 
 distance above the careless and idle. 
 
 1 once knew a case where a number of 
 mechanics working in the same shop, 
 thirsting for knowledge as well as money, 
 found time to pass through several large 
 volumes each month. Their plan was this. 
 At a certain hour of the day, one of their 
 number read a certain chapter, or num- 
 ber of pages, whilst the others all silently 
 progressed with their work. He then 
 gave the book to another, resuming his 
 own work, and all again listened to the 
 reader. So the book passed around to each 
 one in the company, (some eight or ten in 
 number,) until all had read their portion. 
 The book was then laid aside until the fol- 
 lowing day, when the same thing occurred 
 again as before. By their reading ten 
 
NO TIME TO READ. 55 
 
 pages each, one hundred was read per day. 
 How long would it take such a company to 
 pass through the history of every nation 
 that has ever had an existence? This 
 course, persevered in for a length of time, 
 would exhaust a large library. Yet no one 
 ever complained of the loss of time. All 
 felt it to be a pleasure which they could illy 
 dispense with. And who does not see the 
 effect of such a course upon their intellect- 
 ual powers, While others were toiling on, 
 in the duties of their profession, ignorant 
 of every thing but what barely appertained 
 to their own handicraft, these were con- 
 versing with men of former times, and ob- 
 taining a general knowledge of the world. 
 " Go and do likewise," all you who com- 
 plain of want of time for mental improve- 
 ment. 
 
 Do any still urge the fact that they have 
 not time to read. They may verily believe 
 it, but if they were to argue until they were 
 grey-headed, they would not convert me to 
 their notions. It would not be difficult to 
 portray such so clearly that they would be 
 
56 NO TIME TO READ. 
 
 every where known. They generally have 
 time to attend all public gatherings in times 
 of political excitement, public sales, camp 
 meetings and singing schools, but they have 
 no time to read. They can frequently find 
 time to spend whole days at the tippling shop, 
 seeing the races, or conversing about poli- 
 tical affairs, but they have no time to read. 
 Such persons have time to hunt, to fish, to 
 learn music and play, or do nothing, but 
 they have no time to read. 
 
 Unhappy men, they are generally good 
 for nothing neither of use to the nation, 
 to their families, nor themselves. Their 
 farms are out of order shops dirty and 
 uninviting, and their fire-sides are uncom- 
 fortable. Without energy, public spirit, or 
 Jove of knowledge, they live in obscurity 
 and die unwept and unregretted. I need 
 not show how little befitting an immortal 
 man is such a course, it is too apparent to 
 require a remark. 
 
WANT OF TASTE. 57 
 
 WANT OF TASTE. 
 
 But you answer all this by urging another 
 formidable difficulty. A difficulty which 
 we admit to be a most serious one, you say 
 " you have no taste, for study," and the 
 hours thus spent of all others, are the most 
 unpleasant and irksome. Here is the prin- 
 cipal difficulty after all. No man will long 
 practice that for which he has no liking. 
 Hard work in the nature of things, is not 
 easy, and he who is more fond of company, 
 a public meeting, or sitting in a dirty bar- 
 room, smoking a cigar, and hearing the 
 idle gossip of the neighborhood, than perus- 
 ing a valuable book, will most likely, soon 
 sink to his level, whatever be his talents, 
 and remain there during life. 
 
 But men's tastes arise from habit, and 
 though not with equal ease ; may be re- 
 formed as well as formed. In order to 
 eminence in any business or profession, the 
 first thing to be acquired, is a taste for it. 
 And it is astonishing, how soon such taste 
 
58 NOTHING GAINED 
 
 may be imbibed, by a little practice. Let a 
 young man accustom himself to any course 
 of life, for a month or two, and though ever 
 so disgraceful to his character, and offensive 
 in the eyes of others to himself it will be 
 pleasant and inviting. In like manner let 
 him compel his attention to books, during 
 his leisure hours, and evenings, for a season, 
 and soon, what was an irksome and un- 
 pleasant task, will be his greatest pleasure. 
 No longer will he have to complain of want 
 of taste for literary pursuits, but he will 
 perhaps find some need of care, lest a 
 fondness for it, lead him to suffer too great 
 encroachment upon the hours of business. 
 This bar therefore, although a real one, is 
 quite easily taken out of the way. And is 
 not the object worthy the effort necessary 
 to its attainment? Nothing of any value 
 is gained without toil. Nor will a studious 
 disposition, essential to mental cultivation, 
 be possessed by any, unless it be diligently 
 acquired. 
 
 Sir Walter Scott thus writes to his son, 
 " I cannot too strongly impress upon your 
 
WITHOUT LABOR. 59 
 
 mind, that labor is the condition which God 
 has imposed on us in every station of life. 
 There is nothing worth having that can be 
 had without it, from the bread which the 
 peasant wins by the sweat of his brow, to 
 the sports by which the rich man must get 
 rid of his ennui. The only difference be- 
 twixt them is, that the poor man labors to 
 get a dinner to his appetite the rich man, 
 to get an appetite to his dinner. As for 
 knowledge, it can no more be planted in 
 the human mind without labor, than a field 
 of wheat can be produced without the pre- 
 vious use of the plough. There is indeed 
 this difference, that chance or circumstances 
 may cause it, that another shall reap what 
 the former sows ; but no man can be de- 
 prived whether by accident or misfortune, 
 of the fruits of his own studies ; and the 
 liberal and extended acquisition of know- 
 ledge, which he makes, are all for his own 
 use. Labor, therefore, my dear boy, and 
 improve the time. In youth, our steps are 
 light, and our minds are ductile, and know- 
 ledge is easily laid up. But, if we neglect 
 our spring, our summers will be useless and 
 
60 TASTE FOR STUDY. 
 
 contemptible, our harvest will be chaff, and 
 the winter of old age unrespected and deso- 
 late.^ 
 
 Again, " Read, my dear Charles, read, 
 and read that which is useful. Man, differs 
 from birds and beasts, only because he has 
 the means of availing himself of the know- 
 ledge acquired by his predecessors. The 
 swallow builds the same nest, which its 
 father and mother built, and the sparrow 
 does not improve by the experience of its 
 parents. The son of the learned pig, if it 
 had one, would be a mere brute, only fit 
 to make bacon of. It is not so with the 
 human race. Our ancestors lodged in caves 
 and wigwams, where we construct palaces 
 for the rich and comfortable dwellings for 
 the poor; and why is this, but because our 
 eye is enabled to look upon the past, to im- 
 prove upon our ancestors improvements, 
 and to avoid their errors ? This can only 
 be done by studying history, and comparing 
 it with passing events." 
 
 There is a natural indolence common to 
 our nature, which, fond of listless inaction 
 will ever be urging us to lay aside what is 
 
TASTE FOR STUDY. 61 
 
 painful and laborious and seek that which 
 is amusing. This must be overcome before 
 any man will be a student. Having this 
 out of our way the work will be compara- 
 tively easy, study will be a pleasure, and 
 a thirst for knowledge being the master 
 passion, there will be no difficulty in the 
 way, or self denial required. He who has 
 cultivated this taste and succeeded in ac- 
 quiring this valuable habit is on the high 
 road to usefulness and respectability, if not 
 to greatness, but he on the contrary, who 
 has it not and does not acquire it, will have 
 a narrow path to travel through life, and 
 will leave an inglorious memorial. Upon 
 his tombstone it may be written that he 
 was born on one day, and died upon another, 
 an honor which the lower animals can share 
 with him. A man with fair natural en- 
 dowments can generally make himself what 
 he chooses to be. Many complain of Provi- 
 dence and fortune, for having dealt out 
 favours, with a parsimonious and sparing 
 hand, when the fault is their own. Had 
 they been as diligent and active in the pur- 
 6 
 
62 DEFICIENT IN MEMORY. 
 
 suit of knowledge, as they have of distinc- 
 tion in feats of agility, or foolish sports, 
 during early life, they would have had but 
 little to complain of now. 
 
 DEFICIENT IN MEMORY. 
 
 Not a few complain also of a very treach- 
 erous memory, and therefore, deem it use- 
 less for them ever to make an effort to gain 
 knowledge. This is the old complaint reiter- 
 ated, that Providence has denied some, what 
 he has so abundantly bestowed upon others, 
 a postulate which I have always admitted 
 with great caution. There is no question 
 but variety as relates to natural endowments 
 obtained among mankind. This conclusion 
 cannot well be avoided. Yet it is equally 
 clear that in most cases, the difference ob- 
 served, can be traced to other causes, arising 
 in the habits of life and modes of early 
 training. The experience of every teacher, 
 has no doubt convinced him that the lad 
 who had never been accustomed to con a 
 
BAD MEMORY. 63 
 
 lesson, finds it difficult at his first essay, to 
 fix one upon his memory. This difficulty 
 remains for some time, until, other and pre- 
 viously formed habits are worn off, and his 
 mind becomes thoroughly bent to his new- 
 employment. His memory becomes more 
 and more tenacious as he progresses ; the 
 more it is taxed, the more are its energies 
 developed, until its grasp becomes powerful 
 and astonishing, and he who at first was 
 quite incapable of retaining the shortest 
 primary lessons, now stores away in his 
 capacious memory, whole sections, pages, 
 and volumes. So that it is evident that 
 previous habits, not nature, caused the 
 difference between him and his fellow at 
 first. He who reads or studies but little, 
 generally has a bad memory so called, 
 whilst he who calls its powers into use, and 
 constant exercise, is always said to have a 
 good one. Confine the arm to a vertical 
 position, and keep it so for six months, or a 
 year ; then remove the bandage, and try to 
 raise it horizontally. You will find it im- 
 possible at first, but after a time, when it 
 
64 LOCATE TRANSACTIONS. 
 
 has had sufficient exercise to restore strength, 
 it will act in obedience to the will. 
 
 The same may be said of every power 
 we possess. And will any one do such injus- 
 tice to himself as to quietly presume that he 
 has not so good natural faculties as others, 
 until he essays their developement ? Pride 
 of character should forbid it. No man 
 knows what he can do, until he fairly tries ; 
 nor should any one condemn himself to a 
 life of stupid ignorance, pleading want of 
 capacity, without having fully made the 
 effort to avoid so great a disgrace. 
 
 Art may also be used to strengthen recol- 
 lection, and make memory tenacious. Not 
 choosing to dwell on any system that may 
 have been devised, in order to aid this 
 faculty, or attribute of mind, allow me barely 
 to suggest a plan which I know has been 
 serviceable to some. Local connexions and 
 circumstances always aid in recollecting facts. 
 When you desire to remember a name, you 
 connect it with something which easily and 
 frequently recurs to the mind, and when the 
 latter comes up by accident or design, the 
 
STRENGTHENING MEMORY. 65 
 
 former generally accompanies it, without the 
 least effort. Acting on this principle, he who 
 studies history, should frequently have a 
 map before him, and by giving the histori- 
 cal transaction a location, all that will be 
 required to call up the event, will be to let 
 the mind revert to the spot where it occurred. 
 The student will thus have the double ad- 
 vantage of the study of history and geogra- 
 phy, at one and the same time. One hour's 
 study of history on this plan, will be found 
 to realize more permanent advantage, than 
 whole days of bare reading. In fact, the 
 reading of ancient history without it, will be 
 found almost useless, as it will soon be for- 
 gotten, or facts so thrown together and 
 condensed, as to be of no service whatever. 
 And what is more, historical reading having 
 the light of geography thrown around it, 
 becomes doubly interesting. It not only 
 spreads before the mind, the deeds of former 
 generations, which, it is vastly important 
 for all men to know, but also furnishes a 
 view of their varied localities, and the in- 
 fluences which gave rise to their actions. 
 6* 
 
66 WANT OF MEMORY. 
 
 This by the way is one of the best modes 
 of studying the philosophy of mankind. 
 
 The same principle should also be ob- 
 served in the study of the Holy Scriptures. 
 National character, place, circumstances of 
 the times, and purpose of the writer, well 
 understood, will serve to cast much light 
 upon almost every portion of Scripture, and 
 vastly strengthen our power to recollect it. If 
 we desire to remember any particular pas- 
 sage, its location on the page should be mark- 
 ed, whether near the top or bottom, in which 
 of the columns, and what is the first word. 
 This will be giving it a location, which re- 
 curring to the mind at first, will soon intro- 
 duce all that follows. What has been said 
 of history and Scripture may be said with 
 equal propriety of every other matter of 
 study. He who would have a strong 
 memory, must act upon the same principle 
 with him who seeks a strong and healthy 
 physical frame, viz : give it exercise. He 
 must call its powers into use, and tax them 
 to their full ability of bearing, using all the 
 artificial helps with which he is acquainted. 
 
WANT OF MEANS. 67 
 
 This done for a series of years, or even 
 months, will so develop this power, that 
 but few complaints will be heard of the 
 parsimony of nature's bestowments. I 
 believe the worst memories, (so called) are 
 always found with those who read and 
 study the least. So fully am I persuaded 
 of this, that when ever I hear complaint of 
 a deficient memory, the immediate pre- 
 sumption with me is, that he who makes it, 
 is either no student at all, or else a grossly 
 careless one. 
 
 WANT OF MEANS. 
 
 To the above difficulties have been some- 
 times added, a want of access to the means 
 of information. This difficulty was once 
 far from being an ideal one. Books were 
 few and costly, and the sciences were lock- 
 ed up in an unknown language, or so loaded 
 with technicalities as to put them beyond 
 the reach of the labouring classes ; who 
 generally have to work their own way 
 
68 WANT OF MEANS. 
 
 without teachers. But happily this bar is 
 now taken out of the way. The world is 
 flooded with books on all subjects, interest- 
 ing to men, books in our own language, 
 and rendered accessible by their cheapness, 
 or placed in public libraries, for the benefit 
 of all classes. I need not dwell upon this 
 difficulty. It is so frail as to be seen to be 
 nothing but an excuse for idleness. The 
 country is full of books and so cheap as 
 to come within the reach of all. The money 
 spent on the various holidays in the year, 
 if expended in books, would soon furnish 
 every apprentice with a tolerable library. 
 And lectures are given during the long even- 
 ings of every year, on almost every subject 
 within the range of human science. Some 
 are gratuitous and all are cheap. He, there- 
 fore, who pleads want of means for intel- 
 lectual improvement in these days, may be 
 given up as a hopeless case, on whom an 
 argument would be wasted. Ignorance was 
 once a misfortune, but it is now a crime. I 
 speak generally of course, and that there 
 are exceptions, by no means militates 
 
NECESSITY OP KNOWLEDGE. 69 
 
 against the force of the remark. The en- 
 terprising will hear me. We Jive in a 
 stirring, active age of the world. All na- 
 tions are thrown together as into one com- 
 munity, requiring every man to know more 
 in order to success in business now, than at 
 a prior period. The man who once did 
 business in a small village, though he has 
 never removed, now finds himself in a city, 
 surrounded by a dense and stirring popula- 
 tion ; his plans of operation must change 
 to meet the change in his circumstances, or 
 he will find the younger portion of the com- 
 munity taking the trade all out of his 
 hands. The readiness of communication 
 between distant locations, causing sudden 
 fluctuations in the price of commodities, 
 requires that a merchant or mechanic 
 should know much more now, as to the 
 philosophy of trade, than was needed for- 
 merly. Want of the knowledge of this fact 
 has led to many a disaster in business, 
 which a little foresight would have pre- 
 vented. But let the eye turn to another 
 quarter. 
 
70 NECESSITY OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 INDUCEMENTS. 
 
 In a government like ours, where the 
 power is in the hands of the people, nothing 
 is more dangerous to liberty than popular 
 ignorance. You will sometimes be called 
 to decide important questions, involving not 
 only the wealth and happiness, but the 
 very existence of the government under 
 which you live. One vote may cast the 
 die, for weal or wo, and be the means of 
 entailing on yourselves and your children 
 a joyful blessing or a withering curse. 
 Every man, therefore, should be conversant 
 with his country's history, his country's 
 laws, and his country's constitution who 
 has the fearful privilege of deciding her 
 fate. Ah ! how few of those who go to 
 cast in their votes, think of the fearful 
 responsibility resting on them, or the dread- 
 ful consequences that may follow. Perhaps 
 it would not be going beyond the truth, if it 
 were asserted, that more than half of those 
 now attached to the political parties which 
 
INDUCEMENTS. 71 
 
 divide our nation, cannot give a reason for 
 their preferences. Some are partizans be- 
 cause of prejudices formed against certain 
 men, others from the attachment of friend- 
 ship; whilst thousands are hoodwinked and 
 nose-led by the designing and interested. 
 Every man should be able to give a reason 
 for his political hopes and fears, as well as 
 his religious notions. But the ignorant, 
 who never read or think, cannot do this. 
 It is a moral impossibility, it certainly, 
 therefore, cannot require an argument to 
 show that our institutions cannot be safe in 
 such hands. Many, who are well aware 
 of these facts, and seeing the danger of 
 our institutions, pause and inquire what can 
 be done ? There is but one reply, viz : 
 educate the rising generation in what they 
 ought to know. Let them be trained up 
 to reading, reflection, and morality. This 
 done and there need be no fear for our 
 country. 
 
 To this inducement may be added, the 
 great satisfaction to be derived from in- 
 dustry in literary pursuits. In as far as the 
 
72 s THE PLEASURE OF STUDY. 
 
 mind, being immortal, is superior to the 
 body, so far are mental enjoyments superior 
 to those which are merely sensual. The 
 one is low arid grovelling, the other high 
 and inspiring. The one frequently leads to 
 shame and covers the face with blushes, the 
 other is always honorable and without fear 
 of reproach. Is there no pleasure in read- 
 ing history, and thus conversing with 
 former generations? Does not the study 
 of nature thrill the soul with unspeakable 
 delight, as her chambers open their ample 
 wonders to our inquiring eyes? Study 
 opens a vast field over which reflection and 
 fancy can roam and luxuriate without fear 
 of satiety. All sensual pleasures, weary and 
 cloy the appetite, but those which spring 
 from intellectual cultivation, never cease to 
 delight. It is said that Dr. Franklin once 
 remarked, that " he knew not a more un- 
 happy man than the one who could not 
 read, and had nothing to do on a rainy 
 day." This remark is characteristic of the 
 man who is said to have made it, but is as 
 true to life as it is eccentric. In fact, I am 
 
KNOWLEDGE OF NATURE. 73 
 
 at a loss to know how a man in such cir- 
 cumstances could enjoy himself at all, un- 
 less like many other careless animals, he 
 spent the time in slumber, or like the Chi- 
 nese, in eating opium. 
 
 It has been said that the bible makes all 
 nature vocal, when it would otherwise be 
 silent, and its various laws either not known 
 at all, or be wholly misunderstood. A 
 similar remark may be made in relation to 
 the action of science on the material world. 
 Every thing is unquestionably created with 
 a wise design, and intended to serve some 
 useful purpose. But the ignorant can never 
 find out their uses and various adaptations. 
 The only effect lightning and thunder has 
 upon the unlettered savage, is fright and 
 dismay. But how very differently these 
 agents of nature act upon the better in- 
 structed. They are received with gratitude 
 as means of purifying the atmosphere, and 
 therefore, conducing to the health and hap- 
 piness of mankind. The ignorant man 
 looks over the face of nature, studded with 
 forests and garnished with flowers, with a 
 7 
 
74 YIELDS DELIGHT. 
 
 vacant and unmeaning stare. He sees no 
 beauty, and feels no thrilling inspiration, 
 because to him it is perfectly incomprehen- 
 sible. But the man of science stands a 
 charmed spectator of nature's beauty and 
 profusion, as he more or less sees the design 
 and uses of what is before him. All classes 
 would be much more happy in their various 
 employments, were they to mingle more 
 science with labor, as they would better 
 understand their own business, and there- 
 fore, have less fear of failures and unfore- 
 seen calamities. 
 
 Knowledge moreover, gives influence, in 
 all states of society. And popularity, 
 whether really advantageous or not, with 
 all men is more or less desirable. All are 
 climbing to it by some one of the various 
 ways in which it is deemed accessible. 
 This seems to be perfectly natural, nor is it 
 to be altogether condemned. There is a 
 real satisfaction to be found in the exertion 
 of influence over our fellows, in being 
 treated with respect and looked up to for 
 counsel. Such a position is most command- 
 
GIVES INFLUENCE. 75 
 
 ing, and may be turned to good advantage. 
 That young man who can see in such a 
 situation nothing that is desirable, who 
 finding himself ignorant and without influ- 
 ence, is willing there to remain, not making 
 the least effort to gain a worthy standing, 
 is already lost to society. He has no ambi- 
 tion, and no prospect is before him, but that 
 of being a hewer of wood and drawer of 
 water to the more enterprising, all the days 
 of his life. 
 
 But there is another motive yet, which 
 perhaps may be more influential than any 
 of the former. Every man is desirous of 
 possessing mental energy and intellectual 
 strength. We may safely inform him, that 
 it is not likely he will ever possess this 
 without much reading and close thinking. 
 His mind may be naturally good, but it 
 needs something to give it a start and fur- 
 nish capital on which to act. There must 
 be something to excite. What shall it be ? 
 Experiment the matter by taking up a 
 book and reading the speech of some great 
 man, on some question of thrilling interest. 
 
76 INFLUENCE DESIRABLE. 
 
 Pll vouch for it, that you will not half finish 
 it before your mind will be in the highest 
 state of excitement. And were you then 
 to take a pen and attempt composition, 
 ideas would be in readiness and words 
 would flow in an overwhelming torrent. 
 Let it be your habit to occupy every spare 
 moment in perusing some useful work, and 
 this activity of mind will also become 
 habitual, nor will it ever forsake you 
 whilst, it has any thing to act upon. Mind 
 acts upon mind as matter upon matter. Nor 
 is it possible to converse by books with 
 the mighty intellects of a former, or even 
 the present generation, without catching the 
 spirit of their inspiration. Reading their 
 works provokes to emulation, and makes 
 us desire to be like them. Read until you 
 get the spirit of reading, until a taste is 
 contracted, the gratification of which will 
 be more pleasurable than eating when you 
 are hungry, or drinking when you are dry. 
 Thus will the mind be brought into appro- 
 priate and healthy activity upon all subjects, 
 which challenge the exercise of its powers, 
 
READING. 77 
 
 until it becomes accustomed to the loftiest 
 efforts of which its energies are capable. 
 
 I am sorry for him who feels no pleasure 
 in reading. He dwells in a region of gloom 
 and misanthropy, and if he is resolved not 
 to use the means which invariably exalt the 
 spirits to a healthy and pleasurable flow, 1 
 hope he may be suffered to remain alone, 
 not being able to find one to covet his 
 miserable and inglorious situation. What 
 you read, be careful to read well and 
 thoroughly; anything worth reading at all, 
 is worth reading well. Make every book 
 through which you pass, fully your own. 
 Get the run of the whole story, so as to be 
 able to rehearse it to a friend in your own 
 language. The more you talk of what you 
 read, the better you will recollect it. By 
 persevering in this course for a season, your 
 mind will become rich as a storehouse, and 
 capacious enough to be continually receiv- 
 ing more. 
 
 It may be proper, however, in this con- 
 nexion, to caution you as to the books you 
 read. I am not about to propose a plan of 
 
78 READING FORMS STYLE. 
 
 study the intended size of this work will 
 not allow me to do so. Nor do I now 
 speak of the moral character of books. It 
 is desirable to form a good style, that you 
 may speak and write with ease and grace. 
 This no one will, or can do unless the 
 works which he reads are written thus. 
 Streams always tasteof the minerals through 
 which they pass and man's character gene- 
 rally becomes assimilated to that of his 
 every-day companions. So is our style 
 formed by the models which are most con- 
 stantly before us. Read Mr. Wesley's 
 works until attachments are formed for the 
 man and his mode of thinking and commu- 
 nication, and you will write and speak in a 
 similar way. It would be the same were 
 you to read any other author. 
 
 How important then that you should read 
 much to form a style, and that the works 
 read should be clear and perspicuous. Our 
 tastes undergo a%reat change after we are 
 twenty-five years of age. Anterior to that 
 we are usually fond of what is glowing and 
 gaudy in style, whether the sentiment is 
 strongly developed or not. But every sub- 
 
EARLY RISING. 79 
 
 sequent year changes the taste, and sense is 
 more admired than sound. No book is 
 worth reading unless the meaning stares 
 you in the face. To be clear in conversa- 
 tion, in thinking, and in writing, is what a 
 young man should aim at first. If he be a 
 student ornament will come quite soon 
 enough. Todd's Students' Manual is a 
 capital thing for every young man, and I 
 here commend it to their attention. No 
 sentence that I have seen in it requires to be 
 studied to be understood. You should be 
 careful then to guard against a bad and 
 confused style, by reading such books only 
 as are clear and chaste. 
 
 Early rising is essential to successful 
 study. No man will love his book much, 
 unless he form the habit of being at it early 
 in the morning. The practice of some is, 
 to do all their reading at night, after work- 
 ing hours. Mistaken men. Such an illy 
 judged course will be short-lived. The eyes, 
 the head, the whole frame will soon feel 
 the sad effects of such unphilosophical pro- 
 cedure. Headache and want of appetite 
 
80 READING AND CONVERSATION, 
 
 for food, will be the first natural intimations 
 of error. And the unwise youth will soon 
 begin to think his studies are injuring his 
 health, and lay them aside altogether. If 
 this do not occur, he will complain of defi- 
 cient memory as it is well-known that the 
 cnind is more vigorous and capable of re- 
 tention in the early, than in the latter por- 
 tions of the day. All great acquisitions of 
 knowledge or fortune, have been made by 
 men who were accustomed to early rising. 
 Nor need any youth dream of either, who 
 cannot deny himself an hour of morning 
 slumber to gain them, 
 
 Be sure to be a good reader whatever 
 else you lack. In that which we are most 
 frequently called on to do we should be 
 greatest proficients. Make reading a daily 
 study, so that if required to read a paragraph 
 from a newspaper in company, or if the se- 
 cretary of a society, your reading may bring 
 you into favourable notice. In some com- 
 panies your whole education will be judged 
 of by your capabilities in this one matter. 
 Study pronunciation also. Men are alw r ays 
 
POLITE ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 81 
 
 deemed more or less ignorant whilst they 
 pronounce badly. Watch the best speakers, 
 both public and private, and have a diction- 
 ary always at hand; and by a little effort, 
 care, and watchfulness, you will not be 
 afraid to open your mouth any where. At- 
 tend to the art of writing also. Education 
 is not unfrequently judged of by ability in 
 this accomplishment. To write well, with 
 correct orthography, is a sure method of 
 gaining the esteem and friendship of a cor- 
 respondent. These are, therefore, to be 
 sought with diligence. 
 
 It is astonishing how much these common 
 matters are neglected. The rage now-a- 
 days is, to store the mind with Latin and 
 Greek, and scraps of other branches of 
 learning, which sound large and appear 
 showy to the neglect of other knowledge 
 of far more practical importance in every- 
 day transactions. All these can be attended 
 to, if time and circumstances will permit. 
 But these last can be dispensed with where 
 those above named cannot A thorough ac- 
 quaintance with our own language is to be 
 
82 POLITE ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 
 
 sought first, with ability to read and speak 
 it correctly and fluently, you should also 
 write and compose with readiness and ease. 
 No man is naturally a ready and good 
 writer. Practice alone will enable any man 
 to sit down and throw his thoughts together 
 with force and beauty on paper. This is 
 true of all men, talented or not. First 
 efforts will always be imperfect and unsatis- 
 factory but regard it not ; resolute perse- 
 verance in the practice will ensure success. 
 You often wonder how editors can throw 
 their thoughts together so amusingly, and 
 wish you could do the same. The reason 
 is they are always at it. Write much, and 
 you will learn the secret. A good practice 
 is, to write every day a few lines, with 
 either pen or pencil. 
 
 In a word, whatever you admire in 
 another try to acquire yourself, and always 
 avoid what is objectionable and unlovely. 
 Read correctly, write fluently, be ready at 
 figures and accounts, easy and gentlemanly 
 in conversation and without bad habits, ia 
 ordinary matters, and you will pass through 
 
POLITE ACCOMPLISHMENTS. 83 
 
 the world with a better character for learn- 
 ing than many who are loaded with the 
 honours of colleges. All this you can do 
 yourself if you are determined to try. It 
 will repay you a hundred fold for every hour 
 spent in careful acquisition. Resolve that 
 no one shall excel you, and you are safe. 
 
84 THE IMPORTANCE OF CHARACTER. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 ON THE IMPORTANCE OF CHARACTER. 
 
 FROM what has been already said, it is 
 hoped you will be prompted to activity in 
 using the means which lead to a due de- 
 velopement of the intellectual powers. This 
 is education of a manly kind, neglected by 
 none without great and manifest loss. Yet 
 this, properly attended to, will not fit us 
 fully for life. To it must be added charac- 
 ter, or previous studies will be almost use- 
 less. I need not describe it, you know and 
 admire it wherever seen. It is found 
 among the poor as well as wealthy, the un- 
 learned as well as masters of science. With- 
 out a good character you will not, you can- 
 not succeed in life, whatever your other 
 qualifications are. Deficiency in science 
 will be witnessed and pitied by your learned 
 
THE MAN WITHOUT A SHADOW. 85 
 
 friends, but the absence of character will 
 be seen by all, and visited by merited con- 
 tempt. You may pass into good society 
 without much education,, but without char- 
 acter never. Where unknown, you may 
 succeed in making a few acquaintances 
 among the respectable, but as your deficien- 
 cies come to light, they will forsake you- 
 Who has not heard of the man without a 
 shadow, and his various efforts to conceal 
 his unnatural defects ? Finding it difficult 
 to remain where he was known, he fled into 
 other lands, where he supposed strangers 
 beguiled by his imposing exterior, would 
 bid him welcome to good society. But the 
 effort was as useless as it was foolish. 
 For he dare not walk in company, either by 
 sun or moonlight, lest his character should 
 be known, and his monstrous deficiency 
 become so visible as to scare away his 
 companions. The only safe plan, therefore 
 left him, and which he hastily adopted, was 
 only to go out in the dark ; an expedient, 
 no doubt, frequently adopted by many young 
 men in large cities, who have wandered 
 8 
 
86 SELF-RESPECT. 
 
 from the way of understanding. In his 
 case, however, the effort was a failure, as 
 during his walk with an innocent and un- 
 suspecting lady, the clouds broke away, 
 and the moonbeams came peering through 
 the opening, and revealed to the fair one 
 that she was walking with ' a man with- 
 out a shadow.' Startled with alarm, with- 
 out allowing time for expostulation she fled, 
 and the poor fellow was left to meditate 
 alone. 
 
 The allegory needs no explanation, its in- 
 tention is too manifest to be mistaken. It 
 has been introduced not barely to amuse, 
 but to show that all attempts to flee from 
 ourselves are vain and fruitless. No man, 
 even among strangers, can sustain a forced 
 character long. When he least suspects it, 
 his true character will appear to his friends, 
 and he will find himself forsaken and alone. 
 He may blaze and shine for a while, but 
 will go out in obscurity. 
 
 He who would be respected must first 
 respect himself. It is unreasonable to sup- 
 pose others will entertain a high regard for 
 
SELF-RESPECT. 87 
 
 him who has none for himself. Self respect 
 then is one of the first ingredients in worthy 
 character. This, however, must not be 
 mistaken for foolish pride, often so ruinous 
 to the young. Pride is always offensive to 
 God and all good men. It cannot well be 
 otherwise. But self-respect is founded in 
 the nature and common equality of men. 
 God has created all men equal, and all 
 should respect themselves because they are 
 men. We hold an important relation to 
 God and our fellows to this world and the 
 next. What immense power man has or 
 may have ! If you do not respect your- 
 selves for what you are now, reflect on 
 what you may be. Each man has a mind 
 which my be almost infinitely expanded 
 has a power of doing good, if the energies 
 possessed be rightly directed, only to be 
 measured by Him who conferred it. 
 
 Without self-respect these powers will 
 never be cultivated never developed or 
 applied to any useful purpose. The man 
 who does not esteem himself, will never re- 
 ceive it from others. You cannot respect 
 
88 SELF-RESPECT. 
 
 him whom you know to be careless of him- 
 self. What we seek in others, we should 
 not be without. You may laugh at the 
 man who amuses you with boyish tricks, 
 or foolish feats of skill in that which can be 
 of no possible use to him or others, but in 
 your heart you despise him. You already 
 read his future history, and foresee the dis- 
 graceful termination of his career. Self- 
 respect will make you wary as to company, 
 select in your associations, and careful in 
 the formation of habits. 
 
 There is also a dignity in manners which 
 is an essential element of character. Some 
 men galvanize their muscles into a grin, 
 and affect to laugh at every thing. The 
 object of this is to please, but the effect is 
 wholly of a different character. It invaria- 
 bly makes a man look childish in the eyes 
 of all wise persons. This by all means 
 should be avoided. Cheerfulness is always 
 indispensable, and never fails to adorn the 
 best society, but loud laughing and continu- 
 al trifling destroys all dignity. The clown 
 of a public show may attract much atten- 
 
SELF-RESPECT. 89 
 
 tion and receive the highest applause, but 
 he is heartily despised after all. Sober 
 dignity, good sense, and ease of manners in 
 company, are ever to be regarded as essen- 
 tial to enduring reputation. 
 
 Personal appearance, though of less con- 
 sequence than other accomplishments, is 
 not to be wholly disregarded. You always 
 feel more regard for a stranger well clad 
 and neat in his apparel, than for one whose 
 appearance is disgusting. A dog will not 
 snap at him half so readily. While you 
 should guard against being a man of fashion, 
 all men will condemn you for being a sloven. 
 Cleanliness and neatness is becoming in all, 
 but more especially in the young. Always 
 appear the gentleman in dress and in dignity 
 of deportment. Show that you live well at 
 home, nor disgrace your mother and sisters. 
 By such a course, all men will be compelled 
 to respect you whatever is your situation in 
 life. Respect from others, is not to be 
 lightly esteemed. Desire for this is a sure 
 index of future character and standing^ 
 Politeness should never be dispensed with, 
 8* 
 
90 SFLP-RESPECT. 
 
 even among every day companions, as the 
 indulgence of improper habits soon makes 
 them permanent. 
 
 This, however, will not cause you to 
 struggle for another and higher rank. Nor 
 will it induce you to seek release from la- 
 bor. No man is or ought to be more re- 
 spected than the one who daily toils for his 
 bread. The social scale in {his day may 
 be somewhat out of order, but it will come 
 right hereafter. The industrious classes 
 are the only ones who can set it right. 
 Gentlemen, so called, can never. A man 
 maybe a true nobleman any where in any 
 office or employment. If laboring men are 
 not respected, it is because they do not re- 
 spect themselves. It is the large soul that 
 forms the great man, in whatever station 
 found. A man by accident may attain an 
 elevation, but if it be unnatural to him, he 
 must of necessity come down. But he who, 
 by respecting himself and the exertion of 
 his energies by exercise of his higher 
 powers becomes elevated, there he remains, 
 as in a natural element. No change of 
 
RESPECT FOR OTHERS. 91 
 
 business, of outward fortune or political 
 promotion can do this for him it is his 
 own work, aided by the blessing of God. 
 Self-respect will teach you not to stoop, or 
 veer from a right course to court the ap- 
 plause of the vulgar. Your course should 
 be one and unchangeable. If the good and 
 virtuous respect you, regard not the clamour 
 of the foolish. 
 
 But self-respect never made a man 
 haughty and scornful. Respect for others 
 is one of its important elements. It has 
 ever been true, "that with what measure 
 ye mete, it shall be measured to you again." 
 The same reason which shows the impor- 
 tance of self-respect, argues the necessity 
 of rendering it to others. The true dignity 
 of every man is in the fact that he is a man. 
 Not because he is rich, or well dressed, or 
 is heir to a throne. The query is is he a 
 man belonging to our species has he a mind 
 that must live forever ? Does he act well 
 his part in the station in which Providence 
 has placed him ? if so, we are bound to re- 
 spect him. Even the wretched, made so 
 
92 MORALITY AND RELIGION. 
 
 by their own wilful misdeeds, may be pitied, 
 but never should be despised. I never 
 laugh at a staggering drunkard, though I 
 often weep for him, because I feel that he 
 is a man, though in ruins, one for whom Christ 
 died, and for whose benefit the vast creation, 
 sun, moon and stars, clouds and seasons were 
 ordained. Can I therefore despise him ? 
 The fear I have for Him who created him, 
 and my own feelings will not allow it. In 
 respecting him, I cherish and fan the flame 
 of self-respect. 
 
 Morality and Religion are essential to 
 good character. I put these terms together 
 for the reason that they are united by God 
 and nature. I believe it impossible to sepa- 
 rate them without destroying both. There 
 may be a sort of morality without the sanc- 
 tions of religion, but it illy deserves the 
 name. It may be heathen, but certainly 
 cannot be Christian morality. The mor- 
 ality of Socrates and Plato was not that of 
 St. Paul. Nor is the morality of a modern 
 free-thinker or semi-believer, worthy the 
 name of Christian. It must be baptized in 
 
MORALITY AND RELIGION^ 93 
 
 the name of the Father, the Son, and the 
 Holy Ghost, before it will be endued with 
 power to forgive enemies, and those who 
 persecute and evil entreat. Revenge was 
 a virtue with heathen moralists, nor is it far 
 otherwise with bare moralists now. Christ- 
 ian morality, however, is of a wholly differ- 
 ent character. 
 
 It is not, however, my intention to preach 
 a long sermon to those who may read these 
 sheets, on the subject of religion, yet I do wish 
 to impress the fact on the mind of every 
 youth, that religion ought to be his first 
 business. And in this I am only repeating 
 the instruction furnished them by the Sa- 
 viour. ' Seek first the kingdom of God and 
 his righteousness, and all these things (tem- 
 poral good) shall be added.' The nature of 
 religion, I certainly need not pause to ex- 
 plain. In a country like this, where churches 
 are so numerous, and the means of grace 
 accessible to all, there cannot be any ne- 
 cessary darkness on this question. Char- 
 acter and standing, based on religion, ' pure 
 and undefiled before God and the Father,' 
 
94 BENEFITS OF EARLY PIETY. 
 
 is always worthy and permanent. The 
 heart being renewed, and the affections run- 
 ning in a right channel, will be almost sure 
 to conduct to honor and usefulness happi- 
 ness and peace. The foundation thus laid 
 being strong, the superstructure reared upon 
 it will not be likely to crumble down by 
 age, or yield to opposing powers. Good 
 moral character commences in the fear of 
 God, repentance of sin, and firm resolutions 
 of rectitude, to be maintained during life, 
 and is carried out and effectuated by atten- 
 tion to a regular course of religious duty. 
 This will establish manly principles, give a 
 manly bearing to the whole deportment of 
 life, and effectually cure and destroy those 
 foolish tastes which lead so many young 
 persons to ruin. Religion in early life, also 
 throws into good society, and gives a taste 
 for what is honorable, virtuous, and of good 
 report. 
 
 Religion, vital and saving, is important to 
 all, in every period of life. The bible, con- 
 science, and the common sense of mankind, 
 all unitedly declare this. Yet is it more es- 
 
ATTENTION TO CHURCH. 95 
 
 pecially necessary to those who are forming 
 a character which is to cleave to them 
 throughout life. But few arrive at middle 
 age, or advanced years, but have to regret 
 some youthful folly which they could wish 
 were blotted from the page of their history. 
 To do this now is quite impossible. It 
 might have been avoided once, but cannot 
 now be erased. Many also contract habits 
 and form tastes, which are matters of long 
 and mournful regret afterwards. Early 
 piety, is a safeguard against these. It leads 
 into new society, and saves from that which 
 is vicious. It saves from many temptations 
 and snares, into which the careless and ir- 
 religious are sure to fall. So that he who 
 embraces religion early, is much more likely 
 to be steadfast in his profession, than the 
 one who defers so important a matter, to a 
 more advanced period. The former has 
 but few temptations compared to the latter, 
 his life therefore is much more tranquil, his 
 course more steady, and his end more peace- 
 ful. 
 
 Regular habitual attention to religious 
 
96 BENEFITS OF A FIRM FAITH. 
 
 ivorship, is in this community indispensable 
 to moral character and standing. Do any 
 wish to test the truth of this remark the 
 means are at hand. Compare the character 
 and standing of those in your acquaintance 
 who do, and such as do not frequent a place 
 of worship. Mark the difference between 
 them. Whether a man be strictly religious 
 or not, his character and influence, as a 
 man, and a citizen, will be much bettered 
 by steady regular church going habits. So 
 obvious is this fact to common observation, 
 that it requires no more than a mere state- 
 ment, to be convincing. 
 
 Nothing is more essential to a moral and 
 religious life, than a firm and unshaken faith 
 in the verities of divine revelation, and the 
 solemnities of a final judgment. Only let a 
 sense of these, be done away from the 
 human mind, and all moral restraint of any 
 force or value is gone with them. And 
 fallen man urged forward by the force of a 
 reckless depravity, loses sight of future 
 acountability for his conduct, and gives 
 himself wholly to the enjoyments of the 
 
MAN A RELIGIOUS BEING. 97 
 
 present. Saying to his soul, take pleasure, 
 eat, drink, and be merry, for to-morrow 
 shall be as this day, and much more abund- 
 ant in sensual gratification. 
 
 It would not be difficult to show that 
 belief in the essential doctrines of religion, 
 is indispensable to the well being of society 
 as well as the happiness and temporal pros- 
 perity of individuals. All human experi- 
 ence declares this truth, and the providence 
 of God fully confirms the declaration. Every 
 nation has had its religion, both doctrinal 
 and practical, and in proportion to its purity 
 has been the morality and happiness of the 
 people. Says a popular historian, " Man 
 has been termed a religious being, because 
 in every age and among all people, we 
 discover a reverence and awe of the divine 
 Being, an homage paid to Him, and an 
 open profession of entire dependence upon 
 Him, in all their undertakings and necessi- 
 ties in all their adversities and dangers. 
 Incapable themselves to penetrate futurity, 
 and to ascertain events in their own favor, 
 we find them intent on consulting the 
 9 
 
98 THIS A CHRISTIAN COUNTRY. 
 
 divinity, by oracles and other methods of a 
 like nature, and to merit His protection, by 
 prayers, vows and offerings." 
 
 The country in which we live, is called 
 a Christian country, not because all the 
 inhabitants are Christians would to God 
 they were, but because all our laws and 
 institutions are based upon Christianity. 
 Can that man therefore, have a good repu- 
 tation among his fellows, who pays no 
 regard to that, on which so much reliance 
 has been, and is still placed. None but 
 atheists can esteem him who indulges no 
 reverence for the word of God, who has 
 none of his fear before his eyes. He who 
 chooses a course of irreligion, and prefers 
 skepticism to a reverent faith in the holy 
 Scriptures, generally if not always, chooses 
 early infamy, if not an early grave. Refer- 
 ence could be easily had to numerous facts 
 in proof of this, but I forbear to adduce 
 them. "A word to the wise" is said to be 
 sufficient. " The prudent man foreseeth the 
 evil and hideth himself," while the foolish 
 pass on and are punished." 
 
HAPPINESS OF RELIGION. 99 
 
 Infidelity and disbelief are no recom- 
 mendation to any man. But it is especially 
 disgusting, when it appears in the young. 
 Whenever it is seen in such, there is always 
 connected with it a bold face, disrespect for 
 superiors in age and acquirements, and a 
 contempt for such usages, as general society 
 deems important and sacred. How un- 
 lovely do such things make a young man 
 appear. What a bad passport to the esteem 
 and good will of those who are capable of 
 doing him more good than all others. 
 
 Nor does religion debar from enjoyment. 
 None are so happy and contented as the 
 truly good. Storms may beat without, but 
 " a contented mind is a continual feast. " 
 Conscious guilt, and peace,are incompatible. 
 They cannot exist together, being opposites ; 
 two antagonist ingredients in chemistry 
 thrown together, effervesce until one over- 
 comes the other. Conscience, God's deputy 
 in the human bosom, must be subdued be- 
 fore the guilty man can have inward calm- 
 ness. But the devoted and pious, walking 
 with nature and with God, verily feel 
 
100 ENERGY OF CHARACTER 
 
 "The day glides sweetly o'er their heads 
 Made up of innocence and love." 
 
 This is not fancy but fact, not fable, but 
 reality. The whole community will sus- 
 tain me in asserting that nothing throws 
 such a charm around the young, as early 
 piety. It gives polish to the loftiest intellect, 
 lustre to natural beauty, and is a necessary 
 finish to the best education. It must there- 
 fore be an important ingredient in reputation 
 not to be neglected with impunity. 
 
 Energy and decision, is also essential to 
 desirable character. Weakness of purpose 
 and constant vacillation is always attended 
 with non-success and followed by contempt. 
 This may be, to a certain extent, natural 
 and constitutional with some, but in most 
 cases, is doubtless the result of habit. I 
 need not tell you that the man of no de- 
 cision of character, whose business and 
 purposes for life, like the fickle winds are 
 ever changing scarcely ever succeeds. 
 Observation has long since taught you this. 
 The student who enters upon one branch of 
 science, or course of study, and ere he is 
 
AND PURPOSE. 101 
 
 half through abandons it for another, to 
 which his changing fancy may lead, never 
 excels in any. He who starts in a business 
 and because he meets with a few difficulties 
 Jays it aside, removes his residence and 
 commences another,seldom makes a fortune. 
 Life is too short to admit of our learning 
 everything, desirable to know, or pursuing 
 every business promising a reward to in- 
 dustry. Every man must therefore select 
 his course, fix his object, and then pursue 
 the path leading to it, with undeviating 
 firmness and undying industry. 
 
 There are temptations enough in every 
 pursuit to lead an unstable mind, from its 
 legitimate course. It is so in the pursuit of 
 knowledge, the cares of business, and the 
 practice of religion. Man was not intended 
 to waste his energies in idleness, and he 
 who seeks pleasure, need not dream of 
 fame. The one who covets it must trim his 
 sails to every breeze, from whatever quarter, 
 and of consequence his course must be an 
 indefinite and zigzag one. He on the con- 
 trary who determines to bless the world 
 9* 
 
102 DR. FRANKLIN. 
 
 and himself too, heeds but little fhe careering 
 winds of popular fashion, and having his 
 course fixed, plies the oar of personal appli- 
 cation, and overcomes every obstacle that 
 fortune seemed to throw in his way, until 
 he astonishes both his friends and himself. 
 He has developed in himself powers which 
 at first he was wholly unconscious of pos- 
 sessing. He has gained points which he 
 formerly supposed could only be reached 
 by the loftiest intellects, aided by the most 
 advantageous circumstances. 
 
 Dr. Franklin is a case in point. He was 
 a specimen of firmness and decision of 
 character from his early boyhood. Fortune 
 did not favor him half so much as resolu- 
 tion. A man, who like him, fixes his course 
 in wisdom, and then prefers living upon 
 saw dust puddings, rather than throw away 
 his principles, to please a junto of his pre- 
 tended friends or real patrons, need not fear 
 the frowns of fortune. We may form some 
 idea of his undying perseverance and firm- 
 ness of purpose in the fact, that when at- 
 tempting to unlock a hidden chamber of 
 
FIRMNESS. 103 
 
 science, he daringly called fire from the 
 clouds, duly to temper and take the rust 
 from his key. Tempting fashions and 
 foolish amusements were no doubt popular 
 in his day as well as in ours. Inducements 
 were held out to betray young men into 
 improprieties, and lead them to abandon 
 their purposed course of life. In his case, 
 however, they were happily unsuccessful. 
 Yet young men in these days of rapid 
 improvement think they have grown wiser 
 than their ancestors, and hope to be great 
 by treading in the seductive paths of fashion 
 and folly. Mistaken men they will soon 
 find to their mortification and fruitless 
 regret that they have made a serious mis- 
 calculation. Figs will not grow from 
 thistles, nor character and standing from a 
 course of thoughtless folly. Character so 
 gained, if it be allowed the name, is as 
 unlovely in the eyes of the truly wise, as it 
 is painful and troublesome to its possessor. 
 Firmness and decision of purpose is con- 
 spicuous as a predominant quality of mind, 
 in every man who has distinguished him- 
 
104 DECISION. 
 
 self in the world's history. History, both 
 sacred and profane, pays a full tribute to 
 the truth of this remark. Noah stood 
 almost alone in his righteous course, in the 
 midst of a world of wickedness. Moses 
 had the courage to take a most singular 
 course, and dared to tread upon the tempt- 
 ing honors of royalty. Daniel pursued 
 undeviatingly the pious tenor of his way, 
 in the very teeth of a royal decree, that con- 
 signed him to the most fearful sepulchre 
 ever opened to man. And St. Paul has 
 perhaps never been equalled for the pre- 
 dominance of this excellent quality of mind. 
 Killed he might have been, but scared or 
 turned aside he never was. This was be- 
 yond the power of friends or foes. The 
 former essayed it by boding prophecies and 
 tears at Cesarea ; the latter, by throwing 
 dust in the air at Ephesus. But all was in 
 vain, the undying firmness of the Apostle 
 was not in the least shaken by it all. 
 
 The same unyielding disposition has cha- 
 racterized every distinguished man who 
 has lived since. We are indebted to this 
 
EXAMPLES. 305 
 
 same spirit in Martin Luther for the Refor- 
 mation and Protestantism. And permit me 
 to say, that this spirit which dwelt so emi- 
 nently in Luther, must soon be found in 
 American Protestants, or some of the worst 
 evils of the dark ages will ere long be vis- 
 ited upon us. Columbus had to overcome 
 a world of difficulty, in order to carry out 
 his cherished schemes of adventurous dis- 
 covery. Hundreds of men would have 
 shrunk from the attempt, though encour- 
 aged with abundance of proffered facilities. 
 Yet solitary and alone, by the might of his 
 own energy he conquered popular opposi- 
 tion, and fainted not under the withering 
 influence of royal apathy. A new world 
 has rewarded his resolute industry, nor shall 
 his name perish while the sun endures. 
 
 Your first point is to become intelligent, 
 so as to discern a right from a wrong course. 
 This may be attained by reading history 
 and biography, together with close observa- 
 tion of men and things about you. Living 
 men are a good and profitable study. Mark 
 their rise, progress, business, mode of life, 
 
106 HARD TOIL IS USEFUL. 
 
 habits, tempers, standing, and all attending 
 circumstances. This over, choose your own 
 course, ever bearing in mind, that like 
 causes produce similar effects, all other 
 things being equal. Settling it in your 
 mind as an eternal principle, that nothing is 
 to be gained without labor. Never expect 
 fortune to do aught that you should do 
 yourselves. Then having laid your course, 
 like the mariner upon the trackless deep, 
 fix your eye upon the pole star, and dont 
 forget your reckoning. Your bark may be 
 a slow sailer, and at first left far behind 
 yet while others may be wrecked, you shall 
 reach the port in safety and triumph. The 
 race is riot always to the swift, nor the battle 
 won by the strong. Never should any be 
 discouraged, because others seem naturally 
 endowed with more firmness and decision 
 than they. Habits are easily formed, either 
 of weakness, or strength of vice or virtue. 
 Courage and the power of endurance are 
 the product of custom as well as nature. 
 You may make yourself effeminate and 
 indolent, or brave and persevering. " Man- 
 
EMPLOYMENT NECESSARY. 107 
 
 ual labor," says an excellent author, " is a 
 school in which men are placed to get en- 
 ergy of purpose and character ; a vastly 
 more important endowment than all the 
 learning of all the schools. They are placed, 
 indeed, under hard masters, physical suffer- 
 ing, and wants, the power of fearful ele- 
 ments, and the vicissitudes of all human 
 things ; but these stern teachers do a work 
 which no compassionate indulgent friend 
 could do for us; and true wisdom will bless 
 Providence for their sharp ministry. I have 
 great faith in hard work. I believe that 
 difficulties are more important to the hu- 
 man mind than what we call assistances. 
 Work we all must, if we mean to bring out 
 and perfect our nature. No business or 
 study, which does not present obstacles, 
 tasking to the full the intellect and the will 
 is worthy of a man. I do not then desire 
 to release the laborer from toil. This is not 
 the elevation to be sought for him. Manual 
 labor is a great good ; but, in so saying I 
 must be understood to speak of labor in its 
 just proportion. It is not good when made 
 
108 EMPLOYMENT NECESSARY. 
 
 the sole work of life. In excess it does 
 great harm. It must be joined with higher 
 means of improvement, or it degrades in- 
 stead of exalting. Man has a various 
 nature, which requires a variety of occu- 
 pation and discipline for its growth. Study, 
 meditation, society and relaxation, should 
 be mixed up with physical toils. Life 
 should be an alternation of employments, 
 so diversified as to call the whole man into 
 action." 
 
 The idle man at any age was never 
 happy. It is contrary to a law of his crea- 
 tor, that he should be. Many hope for 
 wealth and the means to support them in 
 inactivity. This is all wrong. Why not 
 hope and toil for means of usefulness. 
 The reason why so many aged persons lose 
 their faculties so soon, is because they are 
 not kept in exercise. They rust for want 
 of employment. The most miserable, are 
 those who have nothing to do. The mind 
 and body both should be employed to the 
 last, if we wish to keep them vigorous. 
 Man can be trained and accustomed to al- 
 
NOTHING GAINED WITHOUT TOIL. 109 
 
 most any thing. Bonaparte was born and 
 trained in the heat of revolution and war. 
 A military life was then and there, almost 
 the only road to distinction. He caught 
 the inspiration of the times, and by dint of 
 firmness and perseverance became emi- 
 nent. It may, or may not have been na- 
 tural to him. Had he been the son of a 
 great farmer, and spent his youth in per- 
 forming the duties of retired life, perhaps 
 he would not have been such a prodigy of 
 decision and firmness. What the world in 
 his case has, therefore, called a natural en- 
 dowment, may have been the result of cir- 
 cumstances only. Many a man has laid 
 the flattering unction to his soul, that he 
 possessed certain talents, friends have flat- 
 tered him into a belief that these must 
 create for him certain distinction in a future 
 day ; but alas, for lack of diligence in their 
 development, all has ended in disappoint- 
 ment. In cases where nature has seemed 
 most parsimonious, industry and applica- 
 tion has created distinction. Most men rise 
 because they will rise labor is every thing 
 10 
 
110 HONESTY. 
 
 to the young, and fortune is generally an 
 idle word much in use, but seldom under- 
 stood. 
 
 HONESTY and unyielding INTEGRITY in 
 all transactions be they large and there- 
 fore publicly known or so small as never 
 to come to the light of public observation, is 
 one of the most important attributes of cha- 
 racter, and never dispensed with without 
 manifest loss. No reproach so effectually 
 and completely blasts and ruins a man's 
 reputation as being called a rogue and 
 cheat. Better be poor all the days of your 
 life, with the consciousness of stern recti- 
 tude in principle and practice, than rich as 
 Croesus with the guilty reflection that 
 wealth was improperly accumulated. It is 
 bad enough to be called a rogue, and for- 
 ever branded in society as a dishonest man, 
 but it is infinitely worse to feel the continual 
 upbraidings of an inward guiltiness which 
 allows the spirit no repose either by night 
 or day. A man may flee from the well 
 aimed shafts of others and in his moments 
 of domestic retirement amidst his family 
 
HONESTY. Ill 
 
 and friends find comfort provided he be in- 
 nocent, but if guilty in vain may he attempt 
 to escape from the reprovings of his own 
 conscience. Matters may also be so man- 
 aged, that others may not be able to detect 
 a dereliction from a course of integrity, and 
 we may retire with some honor from the 
 place of trade ; but there is no comfort 
 except to the innocent ; God and our own 
 souls know if others do not, and this is suf- 
 ficient to bar from all enjoyment. The 
 open countenance, and manly bearing re- 
 sults of innocency are gone. The money 
 taken from an employer's desk may never 
 be missed, but the fear that it will the 
 dread of detection, will create a burning 
 sensation quenching forever the flame of 
 joy which was wont to light up the counte- 
 nance, and fill with continual trepidation, 
 utterly incompatible with peace of mind. 
 Other men may never know the depth of 
 moral turpitude into which such an one has 
 fallen, but it is enough that he knows it him- 
 self and dreads its fearful consequences. 
 Self-respect is a wall of protection to in- 
 
112 GUILT OF ONE OFFENCE. 
 
 nocency. But one dishonest act, however 
 trifling, weakens, and two or three destroy 
 it forever. It matters but little where the 
 opinions of society place a man, if he knows 
 himself to be numbered with the dishonest 
 and vulgar. The way is prepared to every 
 species of crime, no matter how degrading. 
 No man can be a gentleman after having 
 lost self-respect. Thousands are annually 
 ruined by not heeding the first step in a 
 downward passage. The first guilty act 
 relaxes the stern principle of integrity, dis- 
 orders the whole moral machinery, and the 
 man is in ruins without being aware of his 
 condition. He is then left a prey to the 
 fierce anarchy of every unruly passion 
 arid the wild control of all those depravities 
 which agitate and deform poor human 
 nature. 
 
 It is my object to impress upon your 
 minds in the outset of your career that the 
 sin of dishonesty is not to be measured by 
 the magnitude of its gains ; this principle of 
 judgment has obtained far too extensively 
 among men, and has doubtless misled 
 
DISHONESTY RUINOUS. 113 
 
 many. " He that ofTendeth in one point is 
 guilty of all" is the scriptural and only 
 true rule in the case ; the act of crossing the 
 line marking the difference between honesty 
 and dishonesty not the distance travelled 
 afterwards is what constitutes the chief 
 criminality. The point of time in which 
 principle yielded to temptation was the 
 most important one, because the work of 
 degradation and ruin then commenced ; the 
 moral principles then gave way whether 
 the resulting gain was a penny or a thou- 
 sand pounds. And if the circumstances 
 come to the light of public notoriety, com- 
 munity will award the heaviest condemna- 
 tion to the seemingly smaller offence, be- 
 cause the temptation was less. In this they 
 are right, as the moral depravity is certain- 
 ly the most apparent. 
 
 We always despise the highwayman, but 
 are ever wont to deem him the worst who 
 commits murder under circumstances af- 
 fording the least prospect of gain, rightly 
 judging that there depravity has done its 
 most perfect work. On the same principle 
 
114 DISHONESTY RUINOUS. * 
 
 he who cheats another out of a small sum, 
 is supposed to possess a meaner soul than 
 the one who plays the rogue for a higher 
 prize. In both cases, however, vileness 
 will be their ruin, " and their sins will find 
 them out." 
 
 Whether it be right or wrong it cannot 
 be disputed that community will retain the 
 remembrance of one mean or wicked act, 
 while scores of virtuous and praise-worthy 
 deeds are forgotten altogether; it is so in 
 savage and civilized life. " He once told a 
 lie," is with an Indian a sufficient reason 
 for refusing to credit him forever after. We 
 are much more apt to remember the stormy 
 than the clear day the ugly than the beau- 
 tiful face. Perhaps the reason is, because 
 they are unnatural or unexpected, and 
 therefore leave the deeper impression. 
 Every man's honor should be stainless and 
 without suspicion; one blot upon reputa- 
 tion, like a scar in the flesh, will be carried 
 with you to the grave. 
 
 He therefore, who covets worthy reputa- 
 tion, must not tamper with either large or 
 
.HONESTY THE BEST POLICY. 115 
 
 small temptations. His only safety is not to 
 touch, taste or handle. In buying or sel- 
 ling, to speak truth only, in the integrity of 
 his heart, and in the sight of God his Judge, 
 is the only safe course. If he could make 
 himself rich by a false representation, he is 
 better, far better without it. The true se- 
 cret of successful resistance of temptation 
 in this, as in all other cases, is not to indulge 
 or give a moment's place to dishonorable 
 thoughts and suggestions. Nor can any one 
 long pursue this course without its being 
 known to his employers or those who trade 
 with him. The eyes of community are 
 soon turned upon him as a trust-worthy man 
 of honour, and his very word carries as 
 much nay more, security along with it, 
 than the signature and security which is ex- 
 acted of other men. This, you will say, is 
 an argument derived from selfishness. I 
 admit it, and in so doing, willingly pay a 
 tribute to the force and power of this prin- 
 ciple. Selfishness is one of those principles 
 which mightily aid in preserving the peace 
 of the world, and contributing to the happi- 
 
116 SELFISHNESS. 
 
 ness of mankind. Nations respect each other 
 because they hope to derive gain from 
 the maintenance of peaceful relationship. 
 The employer and employed are bound to 
 each other by the same principle of personal 
 advantage which, carried out as it is, into 
 all the ramifications of society, shows it to 
 be a providential arrangement for the com- 
 mon good. Every man is and should be in- 
 fluenced in his conduct, by the effect his 
 own course will produce upon himself 
 what opinion the world will form of his char- 
 acter. I admit that the fear of Divine dis- 
 pleasure and the hope of Divine favor, are 
 much loftier principles of action. But, 
 though it be a humiliating view of poor fal- 
 len humanity, which fully confirms the re- 
 presentation given of it in the Holy Scrip- 
 tures, it must be admitted that selfishness 
 with the multitude exerts a much more po- 
 tent influence than the declared will of God, 
 or the approaching retributions of the last 
 day. If there were no other proof of a 
 common depravity resting upon all our spe- 
 cies, this of itself is sufficient to show the 
 
ECONOMY. 117 
 
 grievous state of revolt from divine control, 
 in which society exists. The query seldom 
 comes up what is the pleasure of Him who 
 made and sustains me, but what opinions 
 will men form of my conduct, and how will 
 it affect other transactions through life? 
 The trite maxim that * honesty is the best 
 policy,' is frequently powerfully influential 
 for good to society, where the fear of God 
 has little or no influence. The hope is how- 
 ever indulged, that those who condescend 
 to read these pages, will 'seek first the king- 
 dom of God and his righteousness,' to which 
 they have been previously recommended, 
 that both principles may have their appro- 
 priate influence in the formation of their 
 character, and wise direction of their lives. 
 But few, however, in the ordinary walks 
 of life, will for any length of time, maintain 
 strict honesty and integrity of character, 
 without economy. Could we investigate 
 the life and doings of the veriest outlaw ex- 
 isting, whose sole occupation is highway 
 robbery and murder, it would be found, I 
 verily believe, that he commenced a dishon- 
 
118 EXPENSE OF FASHION. 
 
 est course of life to meet the demands of 
 habitual profligacy of expenditure. I doubt 
 whether any thing is more dangerous to a 
 man's whole character, than careless im- 
 providence in early life. The mechanic, 
 clerk, or tradesman, wishes to ape the gen- 
 tleman. His coat must be as fine and fash- 
 ionable his house and furniture must cor- 
 respond with his appearance in the street 
 in a word, he must maintain appearances 
 in a style equal to those about him. But 
 his income is moderate, and will not justify 
 it. It is sufficient for the necessaries and 
 comforts of life, but not for its gaieties and 
 superfluities. What is to be done style 
 must not be curtailed, let the consequences 
 be what they may. Peculation and down- 
 right dishonesty is resorted to, to save from 
 open failure and dreaded disgrace. How 
 much better to have never plunged into such 
 a course of life as to involve so fearful an 
 alternative. Every man should live within 
 his means, and if possible, save a little to 
 serve as his support and maintenance during 
 sickness and times of revulsion in trade. 
 
CARE FOR LITTLE THINGS. 119 
 
 Without such a prudent carefulness, he 
 will find himself in serious difficulties, 
 and be compelled to ask aid from his 
 neighbors, more than once in his life time. 
 The money foolishly spent by most persons 
 before they reach their twenty-fifth year, if 
 properly saved, would serve to set them up 
 in profitable business. What must be the 
 regret, therefore of such, when a few years 
 have furnished them with sufficient discre- 
 tion to see their former errors? But unfor- 
 tunately they see it too late. Half of life 
 is past, their earnings have been transferred 
 to other hands, and what is worse than all, 
 in too many cases, habits of useless expen- 
 diture are formed, which cleave to them 
 like their shadow during life. 
 
 It was the saying of a wise man, take 
 care of the pennies and the dollars will take 
 care of themselves.' Parents themselves 
 are apt to teach, and children do not forget 
 the lesson, that pennies and sixpences are 
 of but little account. Rivers are composed 
 of drops the tree grows from an acorn or 
 a small seed. Throughout nature, Divine 
 
120 EXPENSES. 
 
 Providence has instructed us to regard little 
 matters as worthy of notice. And he who, 
 reckless of reason, nature, and the cautions 
 of friendship, improvidently dashes into a 
 course of prodigal expenditure, will most 
 probably see the time when he will know 
 the value of little things, as they will con- 
 stitute all his wealth. He who would care- 
 fully save his earnings, and avoid spending 
 every thing as fast as it is acquired, will 
 have to look well to his associations and 
 habits. If he accustom himself to attend 
 balls and parties of fashion to be in com- 
 pany almost every evening, in vain may he 
 hope ever to save a dollar beyond present 
 wants. His income may increase, but the 
 demand for its expenditure will proportion- 
 ately enlarge. By skill and industry he may 
 manage to preserve an even balance for a 
 few years, but unforseen circumstances 
 will throw him behind hand, while the score 
 will go on accumulating against him. At 
 first he will save himself from disgrace by 
 borrowing of a friend, and apply the whole 
 fofce of his ingenuity to keep up appear- 
 
KINDNESS. 121 
 
 ances, but it is all vain, there are too many 
 leaks, no one of which can be stopped with- 
 out an acknowledgment of his pecuniary 
 disabilities. He therefore suffers matters to 
 proceed to a crisis, and sinks at once from 
 observation, perhaps to rise no more forever. 
 How many such unfortunate wrecks now 
 line the borders of fashionable life, who, had 
 they begun right and taken the honorable 
 course of self-denial and economy, would 
 have been ornaments to society living in 
 respectable competence, if not affluence. 
 
 Kindness and good nature, in social in- 
 tercourse, vastly contributes to character 
 and happiness in life. You doubtless know 
 many, who in various respects are excellent 
 men. Their moral standing as citizens is 
 without reproach, and their lives are so re- 
 gular as to gather about them a most excel- 
 lent moral influence. Yet, although you 
 entertain for them a marked respect, you 
 cannot love them. They seem to live alone 
 in the heart of a dense population. If they 
 are men of science, there is such an unsocial 
 moroseness about them, that they seem to 
 11 
 
122 KINDNESS. 
 
 communicate none of their light to others* 
 Are they men of business, you are not fond 
 of trading with them or if they are reli- 
 gious, you are not disposed to question their 
 piety but it wins not, there is such a sour, 
 gloominess about it, that to you it holds out 
 no invitation. I have no doubt that strong 
 prejudices unfavorable to religion in gene- 
 ral, have been formed, and many have per- 
 ished from the way, because of the ambigu- 
 ous and unintelligible signals that such men 
 have held out. 
 
 Such you may respect for their many 
 virtues, but love them you cannot. It is 
 contrary to a law of your nature, which 
 you find it difficult to control. Be careful 
 then, that what is unlovely in others do not 
 cleave to you, lest you form the same char- 
 acter ere you are aware. Habits either of 
 feeling or action are soon fixed. A severe, 
 morose, and unkind temper, or a kind and 
 amiable one, is a matter of cultivation, as 
 well as of nature. It is for each one to say 
 whether he will have many or few friends 
 whether he will be loved or hated, held to, 
 
MANLINESS. 123 
 
 or despised. No man should ever forget 
 that it is now as true as it ever was, * that 
 he who would have friends, must show him- 
 self friendly' a maxim as wise as it is di- 
 vine, which should never lose its influence 
 over us. 
 
 Let me not be misunderstood however. 
 I would not have you sacrifice principle for 
 the sake of friendship. You are always to 
 preserve a manly dignity in the acquisition 
 of social dispositions and habits. Losing 
 sight of this, you will miss your aim and fall 
 into contempt. Some there are, who, seeing 
 the great value of social kindness as an at- 
 tribute of character, attempt its attainment 
 without duly understanding its nature, and 
 render themselves ridiculous in the eyes of 
 all, by bowing, scraping, and assenting to 
 every opinion of their fellows, whether 
 right or wrong. Thus evincing that they 
 have no minds of their own to rely upon, 
 and^what is still worse, that they are guided 
 by no fixed principles of action or opinion. 
 Whilst this is to be avoided by maintaining 
 a proper self-respect and manliness of de- 
 
124 EXERTION OF INFLUENCE. 
 
 portment, such attention should always be 
 paid to those about us, and such social 
 habits formed, as will secure us a place in 
 their affectionate regards. 
 
 We are not placed here so much to find 
 fault with the errors of others, as to do 
 them good. Forgetting this, some are ever 
 complaining that the world is not what it 
 should be always looking at the gloomy 
 side of matters, without once dreaming that 
 this course will tend to sour their own 
 spirits, render their society unsavory to 
 their associates, and thus disarm them of 
 all power of usefulness. The object of 
 these pages is to point out ' a more excel- 
 lent way.' The way of exerting a kind 
 and salutary power over those with whom 
 you associate, that having won upon their 
 better feelings, you may lead them into the 
 happy paths of virtue, and thus save them 
 from the evils of which you complain. 
 
ANTAGONIST INFLUENCES. 125 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 DANGERS COMMON TO YOUTH. 
 
 I have been urging the necessity of a good 
 moral and manly character, and pointing to 
 those means which directly lead to its for- 
 mation. You cannot be too deeply im- 
 pressed with a sense of the importance nor 
 too industriously use the means which in- 
 variably lead to good character. Reputation 
 to a man who has to live among men, and 
 therefore has much to gain or lose, is almost 
 every thing. Confidence is the soul of 
 business, nor will he who inspires none, 
 ever do much. 
 
 But there are various antagonist influ- 
 ences operating in all communities, espe- 
 cially in large cities and densely populated 
 towns, tending to prevent young persons 
 from forming and maintaining moral and 
 11* 
 
126 LABOR AND TOIL 
 
 religious character. In addition to that 
 natural recklessness, resulting from inex- 
 perience, sloth, love of leisure and aversion 
 to laborious effort, so common to humanity, 
 there are numerous temptations held out, to 
 allure, decoy and lead away young men 
 from the happy paths of religion, virtue and 
 moral worth. A few of these may be 
 named. 
 
 Ambition cries for immediate distinc- 
 tion. An anxiety is felt, to be placed side 
 by side with the older portions of the com- 
 munity without having had time for such a 
 result. A desire to stand upon the moun- 
 tain's summit, without enduring the inter- 
 mediate toil. Youth and inexperience are 
 apt to be enthusiastic, to expect the end 
 without the sturdy, and continued use of the 
 means naturally leading to it. Ambition 
 under due control, is a great virtue, and its 
 absence is a most wretched misfortune, for 
 which nothing can atone. But then it 
 should be properly directed and applied, or 
 like the unruly horse it will create ruin by 
 too great tiaste. The result of over anxiety 
 
GO BEFORE DISTINCTION. 127 
 
 to be placed in the front rank either of 
 literature or wealth, is generally failure and 
 discouragement. Every man wants to be 
 a star, to attract the eyes and engross the 
 attention of his associates. But he should 
 remember that to gain his object ; time, ia- 
 bor,and unremitting industry, are required. 
 To reach the heights of a mountain, all the 
 intermediate distance is to be traversed. 
 To be a man of knowledge, much, reading 
 and self-denial are to be used. The end is 
 not so important now as the successful use 
 of the means leading to it. You should be 
 more anxious to secure the next step, than 
 the glory of standing on the mountain's 
 loftiest point. It is well that there is no 
 royal road to fame and distinction in this 
 country. I heartily rejoice that there is 
 none. Every man now has his own way 
 to make through life, future standing, and 
 respectability, is the prize for which he is 
 called upon to contend. The discipline 
 which his faculties will receive in gaming 
 his object, will be of far more value to him 
 than the prize itself, if inherited from his 
 
128 USELESS COMPANY. 
 
 ancestors. Honor follows humility : he 
 who would walk erect hereafter, must be 
 willing to stoop now. In nine cases out of 
 ten, those who blaze extraordinarily at first 
 go out in obscurity, and in a few years are 
 forgotten. Fruit of the most speedy growth, 
 like the Prophet's gourd, is found soonest 
 to perish. Let ambition indulge large hopes 
 for the future, but stifle and slay envy. If 
 others out run you, let them go, bid them 
 good speed, and wish them success. But 
 relax no effort to enrich the soil of your 
 own mind, suffering time and circumstances 
 to develope abilities for usefulness. Gold 
 will shine and command its value some 
 time baser metals may glow for a while, 
 and command admiration from the vulgar, 
 but will soon seek their level and lose ficti- 
 tious importance. Let it never be forgotten 
 that true greatness is the result of much 
 toil and long years of diligent cultivation. 
 This once firmly fixed in the mind, will 
 save from those discouragements which 
 usually follow miscalculation, and too early 
 indulgence of a desire to shine. 
 
USELESS COMPANY. 129 
 
 Habits of useless intercourse with asso- 
 ciates is also vastly injurious to the young. 
 Association is natural, and all will more or 
 less indulge in it, nor should a word be said 
 against it, provided the tendency of it is, to 
 make youth wiser and better. But whilst 
 this is conceded, it must be admitted that in 
 all dense populations this indulgence is 
 carried much too far. Time is valuable to 
 all, yet not equally so. To the young every 
 day and hour is more precious than gold or 
 silver. They have character to form, know- 
 ledge to gain and business habits to acquire. 
 Some of these must be neglected if much 
 time is needlessly spent in the idle chat of 
 social parties. I have frequently passed 
 the door of an engine house, to ward evening, 
 and seeing a number of young men hanging 
 about it, in listless inaction, or cleansing the 
 ornaments = attached to the apparatus, I 
 have enquired of myself, what prospects or 
 hopes do such persons indulge for the future? 
 As they sow so shall they reap. How 
 they will regret the waste of this time at a 
 
130 BAD HABITS. 
 
 day, not very distant, wheiij taste for such 
 matters has all vanished. 
 
 This however is not all. Habits the 
 most debasing are frequently formed in 
 companies met for mere chat and pastime. 
 It is here that young men tenderly raised, 
 and diligently cautioned against all un- 
 worthy practices, first learn to use vulgar 
 language, their manners become corrupted, 
 and their whole character debased. Here 
 is also imbibed a love for gaming, which 
 practiced for a short time so engrosses the 
 whole man as to wither and destroy all 
 taste for every virtuous pursuit, however 
 useful, manly or praise-worthy. Small 
 games come first, perhaps, merely for 
 amusement, to while away the tedious 
 hours, nor does any one dream of serious 
 consequences. How little do such know 
 of human nature. Habits soon become 
 fixed, and hard to eradicate. He who 
 plays for amusement, in a short time be- 
 comes a proficient, turns his skill to pecu- 
 niary advantage, and ere he is aware, finds 
 
GAMBLING. 131 
 
 himself a gambler. Thus the youth of 
 much promise the hope of doating parents 
 and joy of his friends, is unexpectedly on 
 the downward road, and in a few years 
 reaches a place of deep and irrecoverable 
 infamy. Such habits are sure to poison 
 every virtuous principle, and invariably 
 blast all prospect of respectability and ex- 
 cellence. The danger is in the first and 
 apparently innocent stages, as is the case 
 with all other vices by which the young and 
 unwary are beguiled of their simplicity and 
 innocence. 
 
 In some cities gambling houses have in 
 their pay persons whose sole business it is 
 to decoy young men, and specially strang- 
 ers, into those places of ruin. They are 
 at first invited to a party, and a sumptuous 
 entertainment is provided. The unsuspect- 
 ing youth is flattered by the attentions paid 
 him. Wine and other more potent drinks 
 are passed around, and the intended victim 
 of their snares is treated with the utmost 
 courtesy. When the potations in which 
 they have freely indulged have produced 
 
132 GAMBLING. 
 
 the desired effect, cards and other games 
 are introduced, and the one they intend to 
 fleece, whom they call a " flat" is permitted 
 to win invariably at first. He is thus in- 
 spired with unbounded confidence in his 
 own skill, and an increased passion for 
 play. The way to ruin is thus made 
 smooth and inviting, and all obstacles are 
 removed. He seems delighted to surpass 
 others in his new employment, and his 
 pockets are filled with ready money. But 
 ere he is aware the tide turns, and all is 
 gone, together with vast amounts that he 
 has managed to borrow of his friends. In 
 a short time his manliness has all forsaken 
 him, and he soon vanishes from respectable 
 society, and is found, if at all, in the most 
 loathsome dens of vice, or waiting at some 
 ferry for odd jobs, or the servant of some 
 dirty bar-room, paid only in rum and the 
 refuse of the forsaken table, with a tap 
 room bed for repose at night. 
 
 Says a sprightly writer, " the passion for 
 gambling is the worst that can possibly 
 enter the human heart. I hardly ever knew 
 
GAMBLING. 133 
 
 a man who had once yielded to it, to break 
 away from the strong temptation. It seems 
 to seize upon him with the grasp of death. 
 The victim of it is heyond the reach of 
 counsel. It is vain to address his judgment, 
 his hopes, or his fears. He may be a kind 
 hearted man by nature, but it does no good 
 to talk to him about his wife and children : 
 he loves them, perhaps, although this in- 
 fernal passion generally annihilates the 
 social affections; but he would take the 
 last crust from his child's mouth, and cast 
 him upon the unpitying world, sooner than 
 give up the gratification of this hellish pas- 
 sion. Why ! it is stated, and probably with 
 truth, that the late aid-de-camp of Lord 
 Hutchinson, after having ruined himself by 
 play, cut his throat in a fit of despair. It 
 happened, however, that his life was saved; 
 and after some weeks he recovered. The 
 first place he went to after he was allowed 
 by his surgeon to go out, was the very 
 gaming house where he had lost his money 
 and formed the desperate purpose of de- 
 stroying himself. Mr. Grant, who has paid 
 12 
 
134 GAMBLING. 
 
 a good deal of attention to this subject, 
 thinks that the amount of money that is 
 lost in the different gaming houses of Lon- 
 don, cannot be less than 568,000,000 a year. 
 I have no doubt myself that the sum is 
 much greater. But this degrading and hor- 
 rible passion is not confined to our sex. It 
 prevails to an enormous extent among fash- 
 ionable ladies ! Many is the husband who 
 has been embarrassed most deeply by the 
 cards of his wife." 
 
 A few years since, I witnessed the exe- 
 cution of a man for murder. When under 
 the gallows he briefly addressed the vast 
 multitude that surrounded him. " Young 
 men/' said he, " you wish to avoid the 
 horrid end to which I have come. Then 
 avoid the means which have led me to it. 
 Do you inquire what they were ? I answer 
 first, I fell into idle company, and to pass 
 away time cards were introduced. Of these 
 I entertained the greatest horror, and for 
 some time refrained from touching them. 
 Yet I did not abandon my companions. 
 Had I done this I should have been safe. 
 
GAMBLING. 135 
 
 By suffering myself to be a spectator for a 
 time, the horror for the practice left me, and 
 I took some interest in the parties. By this 
 means I gained some knowledge of an art 
 to which I was before a total stranger. In 
 a short time I was induced to try my skill, 
 and was soon inducted into all the tricks of 
 a business which was formerly the object 
 of my greatest detestation. My history is 
 soon told. In a short time murder had riot 
 half the horror attached to it, that card 
 playing had prior to my witnessing it." 
 The poor fellow ceased to speak the cap 
 was drawn the drop fell, and he was in 
 eternity. So much for idle associations and 
 the beginnings of evil. 
 
 If my readers will pardon me, I will here 
 introduce a case recently tried before the 
 Criminal Court of St. Louis. The facts, 
 though published in several periodicals, 
 may never have met the eye of many who 
 may read this work. And if they have, 
 they should be matter of permanent record, 
 for the benefit of those who come after us. 
 
136 AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 
 
 THE ROAD TO RUIN. 
 
 The defendant in this case, (Augustus V. 
 Jones,) was, probably, twenty-eight years 
 of age, but wore the appearance of at least 
 thirty-five. He had evidently once been a 
 fine looking man, in stature he was some- 
 thing over six feet, and his strongly marked 
 features and prominent forehead gave evi- 
 dence of more than ordinary intellect. But 
 you could clearly discover that he had be- 
 come a prey to the monster Intemperance 
 the mark of the beast was stamped upon 
 his countenance, which gave it a vivid and 
 unnatural glare. He was placed in the box 
 with others who were to be arraigned upon 
 the indictments preferred against them. All 
 the others had plead not guilty, (as is usual) 
 and a day was set for their trial. The de- 
 fendant was told to stand up, and the clerk 
 read to him the indictment, which charged 
 him with having, on the 10th day of Au- 
 
AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 137 
 
 gust, passed to one Patrick Oneal a coun- 
 terfeit bill purporting to be issued by the 
 Second Municipality of the city of New 
 Orleans, for the sum of three dollars, and 
 upon being asked the question, guilty or 
 not guilty ? he replied "guilty guilty !" 
 Then, turning to the court, he remarked 
 that, as this was the last time he ever expect- 
 ed to appear in court, he would be glad 
 if he could be allowed to make a few re- 
 marks. The Judge told him to proceed. 
 After a pause, in which he was evidently 
 endeavouring to calm his feelings, he pro- 
 ceeded as follows 
 
 May it please the Court In the remarks 
 I shall make I will not attempt to extenuate 
 my crime or ask at your hands any sympa- 
 thy in passing sentence upon me. I know 
 that I have violated the laws of my coun- 
 try, and justly deserve punishment; nor 
 would I recall the past, or dwell upon the 
 bitter present, for my own sake. A wish 
 to do good for others is my only motive. 
 
 I shall, with the indulgence of the court, 
 give a brief narrative of my life, with a 
 
138 AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 
 
 hope that those young men around me may 
 take warning by it, and avoid the rock 
 upon which I have split. I was born of 
 respectable parents, in the State of New 
 Jersey, and during my childhood received 
 every attention that fond parents could be- 
 stow upon an only son. It was early dis- 
 covered that I had a fondness for books, 
 and my father, although in limited circum- 
 stances, determined to give me a liberal 
 education. I was sent to a high school in 
 the neighborhood, and such was my pro- 
 gress, that at twelve years of age, my pre- 
 ceptor declared me qualified for college, and 
 I accordingly entered one of the oldest uni- 
 versities of the country. Here I so dis- 
 tinguished myself that, at sixteen, I gradu- 
 ated with the second honours of the institu- 
 tion, and returned home flushed with the 
 brilliant prospect of success that lay before 
 me. I soon after commenced the study of 
 law, and when only in my twentieth year, 
 I obtained license to practice. 
 
 Acting upon the advice of friends, I de- 
 termined to try my fortune in the west. I 
 
AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 139 
 
 accordingly arranged my affairs for depart- 
 ure early in the fall of 1833. I will not de- 
 tain you with an account of my separation 
 from those I held most dear suffice to say, 
 that I received the blessings of my parents, 
 and in return, promised faithfully and 
 honestly to avoid all bad company, as well 
 as their vices. Had I kept my promise, I 
 should have been saved this shame, and 
 then free from the load of guilt that hangs 
 around me continually, like a fiendish vul- 
 ture, threatening to drag me to justice, for 
 crimes as yet unrevealed. But, to return, I 
 left my early home, where all had been sun- 
 shine and where my pathway had been 
 strewed with flowers, to try my fortune 
 among strangers, and to try my strength in 
 buffeting the storms and tempests of the 
 world. With light heart I looked forward 
 to the future ; and taking the usual route I 
 soon reached Wheeling, where I took pas- 
 sage on a boat for Louisville. On the boat 
 a game of cards was proposed for amuse- 
 ment, and although I had promised faith- 
 fully to avoid such things, still, I argued to 
 
140 AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 
 
 myself, there was no harm in playing a 
 game for amusement. 
 
 Accordingly, I joined the party, and we 
 kept up the amusement most of the way 
 down. After we left Cincinnati, it was 
 proposed to bet a bit a game, merely, as it 
 was said, to make it interesting. My first 
 impression was to leave the table, but I was 
 told that it was only a bit that I could not 
 lose more than one or two dollars. This 
 argument prevailed, for I lacked moral 
 courage to do what was right. I feared my 
 companions would say I was stingy of a 
 little money. Influenced by those feelings, 
 I played ; and as the fates would have it, I 
 won. Before we reached Louisville, we 
 had twice doubled the stake, and I found 
 my luck enabled me to pay my passage out 
 of my winnings. It was the first time ever 
 I had bet money, and my success ruined 
 me. Again I played, and was again suc- 
 cessful ; and, in short, I continued to play 
 for amusement, until I had acquired a thirst 
 for gambling. I settled in a thriving village 
 in Tennessee, and commenced the practice 
 
AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 141 
 
 of my profession under flattering auspices, 
 and my first appearance in a criminal court 
 was highly complimented, and I soon be- 
 came known throughout the circuit. 
 Things went on thus for more than a year, 
 and I believed myself fairly on the road to 
 fame and fortune. I occasionally played 
 cards; but I consoled myself with the idea 
 that I only played with gentlemen for 
 amusement. 
 
 One night I accompanied some young 
 men to a gambling shop, arid for the first 
 time in my life I saw a Faro Bank. My 
 companions commenced betting, and I was 
 induced to join them, although I did not 
 understand the game. Again I played with 
 success; and when we left the house, was 
 more than two hundred dollars winner. 
 None of my companions had been fortu- 
 nate, and it was insisted that I was the 
 lucky man, and that I must treat. We ac- 
 cordingly repaired to my room, where I 
 ordered wine, and before we broke up we 
 were all deeply intoxicated. With me it 
 was the first time, and the next day I re- 
 
142 AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 
 
 solved that I would never play cards again. 
 I adhered to the determination for nearly 
 three months, when I yielded to the entrea- 
 ties of my dissipated associates. 
 
 I now played with varied success, and in 
 all cases found an excuse for resorting to 
 the wine bottle. If I lost, I drank to drown 
 sorrow ; if I won I treated my good fortune. 
 Thus I progressed upon my downward 
 course, until drinking and gambling became 
 my chief employments. All my friends 
 who were worth preserving abandoned me, 
 until my ,only associates were drunkards 
 and gamblers, when almost reduced to 
 want, (for I had left off business) I received 
 a letter informing me of the death of rriy 
 father that father that watched over my 
 early years who loved me so tenderly. 
 And did I act as an affectionate child ! 
 No. Vice had destroyed the human feel- 
 ings of my heart, and left only the animal 
 passions and appetites; as the letter con- 
 tained a check for five hundred dollars, a 
 part of my poor father's hard earnings, I 
 drowned my grief that night in Bacchanal- 
 
AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 143 
 
 ian revel, and in a few days I was again 
 pennyless. I will not dwell upon the every 
 day scenes of my life, which were such as 
 may at all times be witnessed at any of the 
 two hundred dram-shops of your city, 
 where wretched men squander the little 
 pittance that justly belongs to their suffering 
 wives and children. 
 
 But, to pass on. For nearly three years 
 I have been a drunken, wandering outcast. 
 Six months ago, I received a letter from my 
 dear mother, enclosing $100, and informing 
 me that she was fast sinking with disease, 
 and entreating with all a mother's feeling, 
 to come home and see her before she died. 
 For a lime I felt the appeal, and resolved to 
 comply with her request; and accordingly 
 took passage on a steamboat for that pur- 
 pose. For two days I refrained from 
 liquor ; but my thirst became insupportable 
 -at length my appetite overpowered my 
 better feelings, and I approached the bar 
 and demanded liquid fire. I was soon in- 
 toxicated, when I madly sought the gam- 
 bler's table ; and before the boat reached 
 
144 AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 
 
 Louisville, I was stript of every cent. Thus 
 all hopes of seeing my dying mother were 
 cut off, I remained at Louisville several 
 weeks, in which time I learned that my 
 mother had died, and that her last breath 
 was spent in prayer for her wretched child. 
 
 From Louisville, I shipped on board the 
 steamer Brazil, as a deck hand, and came 
 to this place, where I was discharged for 
 drunkenness. Let every young man reflect 
 upon this picture. I, who had moved in 
 the first circles of society had been the 
 guest of distinguished public men, and a 
 favorite among the literati of our country 
 was now turned off as unfit for a deck 
 hand on a steamboat yet intemperance 
 had done this much. 
 
 I loitered about the city for several 
 weeks, and was. sometimes engaged in post- 
 ing up the books of some dram shop, for 
 which 1 was paid in the liquid fire, kept for 
 the accommodation of customers. One 
 evening I fell in company with a man who 
 has lately been lodged in jail for passing 
 counterfeit money. We played cards, and 
 
AUGUSTUS V. JONES. 145 
 
 I won from him the three dollar bill in ques- 
 tion. The next day I learned it was coun- 
 terfeit, and did not offer to pass it for seve- 
 veral days. But at last I got out of all em- 
 ployment. 1 had no other money. I could 
 meet no one who would ask me to drink. 
 My appetite was like a raging fire within 
 me. I could not endure it. I sought a dram 
 shop offered the bill it was accepted ; 
 and when found a few hours after, by the 
 officers of justice, I was beastly drunk. 
 
 The evidence of guilt was conclusive ; 
 and before my brain was clear of the intoxi- 
 cating fumes, I was lodged in jail to await 
 my trial. I am now done. I have not de- 
 tained the Court with any hope or wish that 
 clemency would be extended to my case. 
 But with a hope that my example may be a 
 warning to other young men that those 
 who hear me may, when asked to play a 
 social game of cards, or drink a social 
 glass, think of my fate and refrain. They 
 may feel themselves secure they may be- 
 lieve that they can stop when they please ; 
 but let them remember that I argued thus 
 13 
 
146 AUGUSTUS v. JONES. 
 
 until I was lost. [Here the defendant sunk 
 down and appeared to be very much affect- 
 ed, and for a few moments silence reigned 
 throughout the Court House.] 
 
 At length the Judge, who is as much dis- 
 tinguished for the qualities of his heart as he 
 is for learning as a Judge, proceeded in a 
 brief but appropriate manner to pass sen- 
 tence upon the defendant, putting his pun- 
 ishment in the penitentiary down to the 
 shortest time allowed by law." 
 
 By all that is sacred and lovely in manly 
 character and moral excellence, as you re- 
 gard your present standing in society and 
 indulge the hope of future good, let me 
 entreat you to forbid the entrance of such 
 temptations. As you respect your parents 
 and friends, and wish to preserve and 
 maintain the worthy reputation of your 
 family. As you desire success in business, 
 and respectability in life, have no fellowship 
 with the gamester on a large or small scale. 
 Be he poor or rich, fashionable or rustic, 
 his way is dark, a curse hangs over it, and 
 it leads directly to the chambers of eternal 
 
PROFANITY. 147 
 
 death. Let every youth study to show 
 himself approved to all the good by keep- 
 ing out of his way, always and on all oc- 
 casions, lest he share in the miserable cup 
 of which he has to drink, and be cut off 
 as the gamester always is, in the midst of 
 his days. 
 
 Profanity is also a crying and grievous 
 evil in this day. Is there any need of cau- 
 tion against this most vulgar and loathsome 
 vice ? With the majority I trust there is 
 not. Yet in a large shop or place of busi- 
 ness, there are frequently found some who 
 use improper language. Its daily occur- 
 rence allays its offensiveness, and then care 
 is necessary lest the same habit be imbibed. 
 You are horror stricken when you hear an 
 oath come fro.n the mouth of a little boy in 
 the street. Older persons are affected in the 
 same way on hearing it from you. Nothing 
 is or can be more cisgusting. Some cox- 
 combs think it manly to wish their com- 
 panions in hell, and profanely to use the 
 holy Lame of God. JBut it makes them 
 appear superlatively contemptible to all but 
 
148 PROFANITY. 
 
 vagabonds. You seldom hear an oath from 
 any one who has any claim to respectability. 
 A wise and inspired man hath said, " evil 
 communications corrupt good manners." 
 To prove the truth of this, ask yourself, did 
 you ever hear a polite man swear. I will 
 venture, you never did. He may have been 
 rich, have held a high office, but like whale 
 meat, he was coarse. His private life was 
 low, and he abounded in "dirty tricks." A 
 gentleman will not use profane language. 
 How disgusting it is to hear a man inter- 
 lard every sentence with an oath a curse 
 on himself or some one else. It is not 
 decent, nor would it be tolerated in good 
 society. If it is deemed an insult in pre- 
 sence of ladies why is it not equally so in 
 that of genteel men. 
 
 If you have contracted such an indecent 
 habit, you are ruined forever, unless it be 
 broken immediately. If you wish to go 
 to the very bottom of society, and then to 
 darkness eternal, do choose a more decent 
 road. One not quite so direct. I consider 
 the infamous black leg a gentleman com- 
 
INFIDELITY. 149 
 
 pared with the profane swearer, as the 
 former holds man and his laws in contempt, 
 the latter God and his fearful thunder. As 
 you, therefore, regard your present and fu- 
 ture welfare, you will avoid the practice of 
 swearing. 
 
 Youth is also in danger from the wiles of 
 infidelity. The chamelion hues of modem 
 skepticism are so various, it is difficult to 
 furnish you with a description sufficiently 
 graphic and true to life. Its character arid 
 complexion varies with the causes which 
 give it birth and being. No man, great or 
 small, ancient or modern, has ever attempt- 
 ed to embody or give it substantial form, 
 and it may be doubted whether any one 
 can. Its advocates deal in sophistry, and 
 spend their force in efforts to unsettle the 
 faith of the orthodox, rather than tell us 
 what they believe themselves. Indeed their 
 faith is a general and acrimonious system 
 of doubt. Their knowledge of the Scrip- 
 tures is generally superficial, as are their 
 other attainments, and in most cases they 
 have more talk than brains. Ridicule is 
 
150 INFIDELITY. 
 
 their choice and deadliest weapon, which 
 has been too often wielded successfully in 
 slaying the pious resolutions of the young 
 and incautious. The difficulties thrown 
 in the way of a scriptural faith by the 
 heroes of infidelity, have been a thousand 
 times answered, but the lilliputian skeptics 
 of modern times affect to forget the answers, 
 whilst with an iron recollection they hold fast 
 to the difficulties. In their attacks upon the 
 venerable structure of Christianity and di- 
 vine revelation, skeptics have learned that 
 it is much easier to deny than to disprove. 
 
 Infidelity has often arrogated to itself all 
 the learning and talent, the wisdom and tact 
 of society, while it has conceded that Chris- 
 tianity has prevailed among the weak and 
 illiterate. A claim of this kind cannot pos- 
 sibly affect any except the most ignorant 
 in community, as nothing can be more un- 
 true. The master spirits in the records of 
 literary fame, have been found among the 
 most devout worshippers of the God of the 
 bible. And although I do not intend to 
 furnish a list of names in proof of this as- 
 
INFIDELITY. 151 
 
 sertion, I may ask where in this contro- 
 versy stood Sir Isaac Newton, who after he 
 had finished his astronomical studies, sat 
 down and composed a commentary on the 
 New Testament. Locke and Bacon were 
 devout believers, with almost all others 
 whose literary labors have long blessed 
 mankind. And not to go abroad, let each 
 reader ask himself who they are, who have 
 most benefitted, enlightened, and favored 
 his own land ? Who have planned, reared 
 and endowed the colleges and institutions 
 of learning which now grace our country, 
 and at which most of the great men of this 
 nation received their power of usefulness ? 
 Where is one such institution that was 
 gotten up by infidels ? If their principles 
 are good why are they not also useful ? 
 And I would entreat every youth to cast 
 his eye about him in society, and look for 
 those who are most active in doing good. 
 Who most efficiently help the poor ? Who 
 build and endow asylums for the desolate 
 widow and forsaken orphan ? Are they 
 not those whose faith in the verities of 
 
152 INFIDELITY. 
 
 divine revelation is their principal prompter 
 to such deeds of goodness ? They expect no 
 reward here, but look for it at the resurrec- 
 tion of the just. In whose steps do you 
 wish to tread, whose virtues do you covet 
 to emulate? 
 
 Sin and infidelity mutually depend upon 
 each other. Do away one, and the other 
 will no where exist. As long however as 
 men love vice, and the practice of sin is 
 pleasant, and infidelity will excuse or pal- 
 liate its enormity, admirers it will have, 
 though the present consequences, be ig- 
 norance and crime, and the future, eternal 
 death. The natural desire of all men is to 
 be free of restraint and responsibility. This 
 is a fruitful source of skepticism. But the 
 principal danger to young persons, is the 
 society of semi-infidels, popularly called 
 free thinkers into which they may be 
 thrown, not from choice but the force of 
 circumstances. And by hearing their daily 
 conversation- sneers at religion, (which 
 they call superstition or bigotry,) or foolish 
 sophistry falsely termed argument they 
 
INFIDELITY. 153 
 
 become warped and biassed, until judgment 
 loses its balance. Being also deficient in 
 the corrective power, which general know- 
 ledge and reading imparts, they are fatally 
 led into the region of doubt and disbelief. 
 
 To their shame be it spoken, men of an 
 unsettled faith having no hope in God 
 themselves find their chief pleasure in trying 
 to unsettle the faith of others. Those young- 
 er than they, and who for want of know- 
 ledge, experience, or skill in argument, are 
 unable to refute their shameless sophistries, 
 are generally selected as their victims. I 
 need not pause to remark on the baseness 
 of such a course. Such do the work of 
 their master, and are the principal agents of 
 his Satanic majesty. Barely to name them 
 is I trust quite sufficient to guard you against 
 their society, when practicable. I once 
 knew a case of this kind. A learned and 
 gray-headed infidel, boarded with a family 
 where there was a pious mechanic. Both 
 eat at the same table, and were on the most 
 friendly terms. So far all was well enough. 
 But the zealous skeptic, wished to make a 
 
154 INFIDELITY. 
 
 proselyte, and therefore was ever and anon 
 thro wing difficulties in the way of the honest 
 mechanic's faith. This was borne with, for 
 a season. Yet the unlettered believer though 
 unshaken in his opinions by all that he heard, 
 was desirous of enjoying his own tenets in 
 peace. He therefore made his circumstances 
 known to his pastor, which soon cured the 
 evil, as the minister requested an interview 
 under circumstances in which the faith of 
 each might be tested by rational argument. 
 This of course was declined by the un- 
 believer, as he feared the consequences of a 
 contest with one who was his equal in in- 
 formation. Thus the matter ended and the 
 faithful Christian was afterward allowed to 
 pursue his course without molestation. 
 
 How strange it is that infidelity should 
 be so eager to make proselytes. Surely it 
 must be a fiend that hardens and destroys 
 the heart. It seeks to rob mourners of their 
 only consolation, the unfortunate of their 
 chief and only solace, the sick and dying of 
 their only hope, to unbind all the ties of 
 society, and spread ruin and a heartless 
 
INFIDELITY. 155 
 
 depravity with all its chilling influences 
 through community. Christianity is repre- 
 sented as having shed rivers of blood, while 
 all the candid know that want of Chris- 
 tianity party spirit ; has caused all the 
 evils ever imputed by infidels to Christianity 
 itself. While infidelity and atheism, have 
 within the memory of men now living in 
 the emporium of boasted refinement, cut 
 off thousands of the virtuous, the aged, the 
 youthful, the humble, the noble, the mother, 
 the maid and even the infant. And then 
 like a furious serpent having no more to 
 bite, it turned and fanged itself. 
 
 All this has infidelity done, and yet the 
 half is not told. Need more be said, to 
 warn all who read these pages against its 
 destructive snares. Mental dissipation too, 
 has made many an unbeliever. Whilst 
 deep research into the mysteries of nature, 
 and godliness, and a general knowledge ef 
 the history of mankind, has cured thousands 
 of their previous hallucinations. Another 
 strong argument in favor of intellectual 
 cultivation. 
 
156 INFIDELITY. 
 
 I have frequently thought it must be 
 exceedingly difficult for the skeptic, and 
 downright infidel, to live happily in society 
 as matters now are. He cannot get a man 
 to go into business with him, if his senti- 
 ments are known, unless it be a man as 
 careless or unbelieving as himself. He 
 cannot go to church where others love to 
 be ; for he does not believe the doctrines 
 there taught, and if he does venture oc- 
 casionally to be found there with the multi- 
 tude, he gets excited with rage before he 
 leaves, so that it is a torment, instead of a 
 comfort to him. He cannot mix in the 
 society of virtuous ladies, they spurn and 
 avoid his company as they would a pesti- 
 lence. But few ladies are skeptical in their 
 notions. It does not suit them, being far 
 too vulgar and gross in its character, to 
 make proselytes among them. They are 
 generally afraid of it, and well they may 
 be. Christianity has done all for them. 
 Where this is not they do the work of the 
 field and house, both, while the men like lazy 
 lubbers, sit and look on, or bask in the sun 
 in careless inaction. 
 
LIGHT READING. 157 
 
 The Christian religion is therefore dear to 
 females, because it has placed them, where 
 God and nature intended they should be. 
 It has ennobled, educated and exalted them. 
 Well may they hate the very appearance of 
 that which by possibility, should it prevail, 
 might deprive them of their natural place 
 and again degrade them so, they should be 
 viewed as beasts of burden. I do not slan- 
 der infidelity, though I thus speak, but 
 utter a plain truth which the history of 
 mankind fully proves. Is it not meet then, 
 that you should be cautioned against im- 
 bibing its insidious poison. Be careful of 
 your society, what books you read, and 
 what notions you adopt in early life, and 
 you will be comparatively safe. 
 
 Light reading, is also becoming an evil 
 of some magnitude, by amusing the pas- 
 sions it is deadening and stnpifying the 
 conscience. Unbelievers would by the force 
 of depravity, be much more numerous than 
 they now are if men had not consciences to 
 arouse them to study the Scriptures, and 
 lead to meditation on divine things. What- 
 14 
 
158 LIGHT READING. 
 
 ever therefore so amuses and lulls, as to do 
 away the force of moral feeling, effectually 
 hardens the heart, and thus disarms con- 
 science of its tremendous power. The 
 consequence is, religion is at first treated as 
 a light and unimportant matter, and after- 
 ward reviled. Nor have I much more faith 
 in religious light works, so called. Their 
 authors have no doubt meant well. They 
 hoped to displace those of a worse charac- 
 ter. Of such motive I do not complain, but 
 the policy is at least doubtful. It is catering 
 to a morbid appetite, which should be sub- 
 dued, not supplied and fed. The plain 
 truths of religion should be taught in a plain 
 and Scriptural way. Both learning and 
 piety, have suffered from this perverted 
 taste for works of fiction and fancy. Study 
 has thereby become too superficial, and 
 taste for close thinking, in many cases, lost 
 altogether. 
 
 He who would make a great man, or even 
 a good and useful one must think, and those 
 books are always best which make him 
 think most. Reading alone is not study. To 
 
AMUSEMENTS. 159 
 
 study is to read and analyze, examine, ar- 
 range, compare and collect evidence to sus- 
 tain or refute the matter under investigation, 
 so that it may take its place among things 
 admitted or rejected. He therefore who 
 would wish his mind to be of the right cast, 
 his moral standing enviable, and his religious 
 sentiments sound and trustworthy, must 
 read those works, and pursue such studies 
 as tend to form such character. If light 
 works are read, it should be as dessert is 
 eaten, after the more strengthening food has 
 been used. Then it is done merely for re- 
 laxation or the recreation of the mental fac- 
 ulties. 
 
 I must not neglect to caution you to be 
 on your guard also, against the bewitching 
 amusements of large cities and dense popu- 
 lations. That of the theatre perhaps is the 
 most destructive to morals and virtue, there- 
 fore I will give it greatest prominence. The 
 danger to be apprehended from this source 
 to young persons is truly startling. I am 
 really at a loss to know in what terms to 
 speak of it, that my remarks may be useful. 
 
160 THEATRES. 
 
 To many the temptation is indeed great. 
 Nor can this be a matter of wonder, when 
 the splendor of the edifices, the decorations, 
 the music, skill of the actors, and all the 
 fascinations of the place are taken into ac- 
 count. Add to this the puffs of almost 
 every editor, the large play-cards that ob- 
 trude upon our vision at almost every corner 
 of the street, pass where we will, and the 
 attendance of fashion, gaiety and beauty, 
 nearly every night in the week for a whole 
 season. To the aged and sober all this may 
 hold forth nothing at all inviting. But with 
 the young it is far otherwise. Naturally 
 fond of company their spirits always high, 
 they are apt to disrelish that which does not 
 thrill them with excitement. The conductors 
 of theatres, fully aware of this, try to make 
 the most of it. Hence the imposing char- 
 acter of their bills, abounding with promises 
 of great sport, buffoonery, clownish tricks, 
 and a thousand other nameless follies, at 
 which a wise man would blush. 
 
 A young man who yields himself to the 
 fascinating power of such temptations, is as 
 
THEATRES. 161 
 
 good as ruined. Unless his income is large, 
 the expense of attendance upon theatres, 
 will be found to drain his pockets of all his 
 ready change, and thereby occasion him 
 much inconvenience, to say the least of it. 
 But in a few years he will wish for the 
 money thus uselessly thrown away, to aid 
 him in starting business. If he has now 
 more than his immediate wants call for, it 
 should be duly taken care of and preserved 
 for future necessities. I believe, however, 
 the presumption generally is, that those who 
 habitually frequent theatres soon become 
 moneyless. The habit once formed and 
 appetite fixed, it must be gratified at any 
 hazard. Money must be had honestly if 
 possible dishonestly if necessary. Had it 
 must be, if the merchant's desk has to sup- 
 ply it. The confession of numerous juvenile 
 offenders and reports of the police in all 
 large cities, shows that in a majority of 
 cases, the temptation to steal was induced 
 by the habit and desire of attending theatres. 
 Such a taste once contracted, and a man 
 will do almost any thing, as the moral 
 11* 
 
162 THEATRES. 
 
 checks and restraints which before governed 
 him are done away. 
 
 The time which they are the means of 
 destroying, is also worthy of consideration. 
 We have before alluded to the importance 
 of time to persons in the morning of their 
 days. Time is never wasted with impunity. 
 It is a valuable which cannot be stored up, 
 as it is sparingly dealt out to every man. 
 Theatres generally open at 7 o'clock, and 
 continue until 11 or 12 o'clock. Four 
 hours are thus devoted to folly and child- 
 ish play. If no other evil could be named, 
 this total loss of time should deter every 
 youth from attendance at such places. That 
 much time each day spent in labor, would 
 soon give a man competence, if the product 
 were carefully saved. If spent in reading 
 and study, the world would soon feel his 
 influence. In fact it amounts to one quarter 
 of a man's active life, if carried through 
 the whole year. 
 
 But the moral effect of such amusements 
 is most disastrous. The testimony of all 
 ages and all nations pays a full tribute to 
 
THEATRES. 163 
 
 this truth. In the neighborhood, or within 
 the walls of each theatre, there is always 
 found a refectory, where are exposed label- 
 led canisters of all sorts of liquor. Temp- 
 tations to indulge the appetite are held out 
 on every side. The company, the amuse- 
 ment, the hilarity, all aid in overcoming the 
 power of resistance, and many a man has 
 found by experience that the only way to 
 resist successfully was to stay away. I 
 have spoken of the company frequenting 
 these earthly hells. It is well known that 
 no theatre could long exist unless free tickets 
 were given to abandoned females, or they 
 were admitted in some way. They attract 
 more than the actors or the showy play- 
 cards. It has been well termed a house of 
 assignation, to which resort the abandoned 
 of both sexes. What young man therefore, 
 who pretends to good moral character dare 
 attend theatres, unless in disguise ? I marvel 
 it is a matter which excites in me perfect 
 wonder, how any parent can consent to 
 allow his son just ripening into manhood, 
 to visit such a place. I consider it, and sad 
 
164 THEATRES. 
 
 experience has proved it in thousands of 
 cases to be the direct road to ruin. I never 
 attended a theatre once in my life, but I 
 have watched with feeling interest the down- 
 ward course of those who have, and there- 
 fore here raise my warning voice to all 
 young men, which I hope they will heed 
 before iniquity prove their ruin. 
 
 Nothing has yet been said concerning the 
 representations there witnessed, nor of the 
 moral character of the actors themselves. 
 Into this I do not wish to enter. But I be- 
 lieve it may be safely asserted, that there is 
 no young gentleman of standing but would 
 spurn the society of those in the day time, 
 at whom he loves to stare and laugh at 
 night. And it is a problem which the moral 
 portion of community will never be able to 
 solve, how ladies of taste, modesty and re- 
 finement ; ladies whose faces are taught to 
 crimson at the least indelicate suggestion in 
 company, can sit for an hour surrounded by 
 young gentlemen, gazing at the most indeli- 
 cate antics, and half naked form of one of 
 their own sex, imported from another coun- 
 
THEATRES. 165 
 
 try. Were they to see her in such 'undress* 
 in the street, they would throw their eyes 
 down in an instant, nor allow the young 
 gentlemen at their side to know they had 
 noticed her. Yet glaring inconsistency, 
 and suspicious hypocrisy, they can gape at 
 her in the theatre without a blush. Let no 
 young lady pretend to delicacy, who can sit 
 unmoved by a sense of shame, and see such 
 indecent exposures. Mothers, too, who 
 cannot but feel desirous their daughters 
 should grow up in possession of the most 
 virtuous principles, and learn to scorn a low 
 and mean thought, are sometimes seen sit- 
 ting side by side with them, joining in the 
 general laugh, when they ought to blush. 
 But as they sow they must reap, nor will 
 the moral part of community (however they 
 may feel toward the daughters) pity such 
 mothers if their much loved and tenderly 
 cherished ones become a ruin. How can 
 they expect otherwise ? " Plays," says 
 Plato, " raise the passions and pervert the 
 use of them, and of consequence are dan- 
 gerous to morality." Aristotle says, " the 
 
166 THEATRES. 
 
 seeing of plays and comedies should be for- 
 bidden to young people, until age and disci- 
 pline have made them proof against de- 
 bauchery." And Tacitus says, "the Ger- 
 man women were guarded against danger 
 and preserved their purity, by having no 
 play houses among them." 
 
 To these I need not add another testimony 
 in proof of the evil tendency and ruinous 
 results of the stage. He who would not 
 hear these and be wise, would not stay his 
 course of folly, though death and eternal 
 retribution stared him full in the face. All 
 your studies, all your wisdom, all your 
 other virtues will fail to make you what you 
 ought, and what you desire to be, if you 
 yield to the seductive snares of this temp- 
 tation. Keep out of its way, nor select 
 your associates from among those who love 
 theatrical misrepresentations. 
 
 And if this book shall chance to fall into 
 the hands of a young lady, let me warn her 
 to look well to the habits of the young gen- 
 tlemen who proffers her his hand. Does he 
 habitually attend theatres then are his 
 
DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS. 167 
 
 morals impure and grievously tainted. So 
 much so, that it will be difficult for him to 
 make a faithful husband. Some vices seem 
 to stand alone, others to affect and mar the 
 whole man. This, with its attendant cir- 
 cumstances, is of the latter class. He who 
 has been much at these places, has also 
 been in the vilest company, and after that 
 it is next to impossible for him to love a 
 wife as he ought. Many young ladies may 
 but little heed these remarks, and fondly 
 suffer themselves to be attached to a foolish 
 fop, hoping that a few years will make him 
 steady. Vain hope if he has wandered 
 out of the way of understanding, he gene- 
 rally " remains in the congregation of the 
 dead." 
 
 As I have taken the liberty to act the 
 part of a monitor, and have been urging 
 such cautions as I have deemed important, 
 suffer me in addition to what has been al- 
 ready said, to advise you to guard against 
 disobedience to parents a sin which I 
 believe to be one of the most heinous in 
 
168 DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS. 
 
 the sight of God. Nor is it otherwise in 
 that of all wise and virtuous men. Parental 
 government and control is a fixed and 
 sacred ordinance of Jehovah, never disre- 
 garded with impunity. Persecution against 
 religion has been said, to be the last crime 
 that the Divine Being would fully pardon. 
 1 rank disobedience to parents with it. Do- 
 mestic order is the soul of society. And 
 had not the Creator of men protected it by 
 His special authority, His work would have 
 been imperfect. With reverence do I say 
 this, and with firmness do I believe it. But 
 it is not left unguarded. The command is 
 imperious, " children, obey your parents in 
 all things, for this is right." The first com- 
 mandment with a promise is recorded in its 
 favor, and long life it is declared shall re- 
 sult from it. While early death, and all 
 the woes ever visited upon crime, may be 
 confidently looked for and expected in all 
 cases of disobedience. I know an old gen- 
 tleman now residing in this city, who has 
 reached nearly his ninetieth year who 
 
DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS. 169 
 
 says, and firmly believes, that his life is 
 prolonged because of his strict obedience 
 and faithful attention to his parents. 
 
 I believe with him, though I may thus 
 expose myself to the charge of fanaticism. 
 Let the history of every man who lives to 
 advanced age, be examined in the light of 
 this doctrine and it will be found true. All 
 general rules are said to require exceptions, 
 but I doubt whether any need be demanded 
 here. The question may rest upon its own 
 merits and be tested by matter of fact. 
 Whenever, therefore, I see a disobedient 
 and unkind child, at whatever age, 1 always 
 judge that he will run a short race and die 
 a miserable death. Such do not generally 
 die in the ordinary way. In most cases the 
 Divine Being vindicates his truth by putting 
 a mark upon them in life and in death. 
 Many whom I have been called to visit in 
 their affliction, when I have remarked upon 
 its singularity of type, have replied it is 
 all because of disobedience to my parents. 
 The Judge of the universe never holds him 
 guiltless who disregards parental law and 
 15 
 
170 AN AWFUL EXAMPLE. 
 
 authority. He may triumph for a while, 
 and think all is well, but a fearful plague 
 is in his dwelling, and although it may long 
 remain concealed, it shall break out some 
 time and give him more pain than all the 
 other misfortunes of his life put together. 
 
 Community has recently been shocked by 
 the report of an awful tragedy in a neigh- 
 bouring city. Murder has been perpetrated 
 under the most revolting circumstances in 
 cold blood. To the transaction, or any 
 facts connected with it, there is no occasion 
 to call your attention, as you are acquainted 
 with them already. But my purpose is 
 rather to look at the man who is said to 
 have committed it. It is asserted that John 
 C. Colt, apparently a fine specimen of a 
 well proportioned man, was guilty of the 
 foul deed. What could have prepared him 
 for so bloody and unnatural an act? for 
 such crimes are never committed without 
 due preparation. The ruling and reigning 
 sin of his whole life has been disobedience 
 arid insubordination. This has character- 
 ized him from his childhood upwards. This 
 
DISOBEDIENCE TO PARENTS. 171 
 
 says a periodical, "is the germ whose 
 growth has been so bitter. His whole 
 course has been marked by self will, break- 
 ing through all the common restraints of 
 the family, of the school room, of the count- 
 ing-house, of social life, and the laws of 
 God. John C. Colt has been for fourteen 
 years a voluntary exile from the parental 
 roof. Let the child who will not submit to 
 be checked and managed, tremble for the 
 end of his own career ; and let the parent 
 tremble for the child, who cannot be made 
 to yield to just authority, and let him never 
 dare to hope that the youth whom he can- 
 not control, will learn to control himself and 
 curb his own wild passions." 
 
 I believe it to be utterly impossible for 
 the ungovernable and disobedient child ever 
 to prosper. The advice and judgment of 
 parents should be respected, not only by 
 those under age, but in all after life. Legal 
 obligation may cease at a definite age, but 
 natural obligation never. Propriety will 
 forbid the child to contradict and contend 
 
172 POLITICAL STRIFE. 
 
 with the parent at any age, or period of 
 life. And though the parent may be in the 
 wrong, and therefore, the child may feel 
 compelled to differ with him, silence or the 
 most tender remarks should characterize his 
 course. Even a drunken parent should 
 receive the respect of his children and the 
 utmost tenderness of treatment, at least 
 with all such as wish for long life and to see 
 good days. 
 
 Another evil against which you should 
 be on your guard is the mania of political 
 strife. To take a proper interest in the 
 affairs of your country is required of you 
 as good citizens. But in doing that it most 
 certainly is not necessary that you become 
 a violent partizan, and heedlessly follow 
 the dictation of party leaders, whose prin- 
 cipal stimulant is the hope of gain. You 
 can cast your vote according to the dictate 
 of an enlightened juclgment,and then quietly 
 retire to the duties of your profession. This 
 is quite proper, most certainly right, and the 
 duty of every man. But every man must 
 
SAMUEL DREW. 173 
 
 take care how he meddles with political 
 affairs, as it is one of the most engrossing 
 matters known in any country. Samuel 
 Drew, the Metaphysician, was once in the 
 shoe business, but by some means became 
 deeply interested in the affairs of govern- 
 ment. He says of himself, that he was in 
 the habit of spending the principal portion 
 of the day among his political friends, dis- 
 cussing affairs most interesting to such men, 
 and in the evening he usually returned to his 
 shop and worked very late at night to re- 
 deem lost time. On one occasion of the kind 
 a boy passed, and tapping at his window 
 cried out, " ha you play all day and work 
 all night." This Mr. Drew admitted to be 
 the best, and kindest reproof he ever re- 
 ceived. It changed his whole course of 
 life. From that time he resolved to cease 
 being a politician, and take care for himself. 
 Thus commenced his career of improve- 
 ment which continued until death, and has 
 placed his name among those whose me- 
 mory shall never perish. Had he continued 
 15* 
 
1 74 EXPENSE OF POLITICS. 
 
 a politician, his business would have wast- 
 ed away through neglect, his strong mind 
 would never have been brought out, nor 
 his real greatness have been known to man- 
 kind. 
 
 He who suffers himself to fall into the 
 political current knows not where it will 
 carry him. His motives may be pure 
 enough in the outset, and his morals may 
 be good, but associating with the vulgar, 
 spending hours together in the midst of 
 dense crowds, and sometimes in bar-rooms 
 too, he must have more stability and firm- 
 ness, than ordinarily falls to the lot of mor- 
 tals, if both his principles and morals do not 
 give way. Industrious habits are also in 
 great danger from such associations. Who 
 ever feels like work on the day following a 
 night of merriment and outrageous hilarity 
 occasioned by party triumph ? That day 
 is generally lost. If that were all, it would 
 be a small matter, but it is not. Expenses 
 increase, and income diminishes, as this 
 fearful mania drives its victim forward in 
 
OFFICE-SEEKERS. 175 
 
 the road to poverty and ruin. His business 
 is finally given up, and to obtain subsistence 
 he sues for a petty office and is successful 
 in his application. For a season all seems 
 to go on swimmingly, but ere he is aware 
 the tables are turned, his office is taken 
 from him, given to another, and he is sent 
 adrift to provide for himself. What can he 
 do, he has lost his business habits and his 
 character for good citizenship ; he " cannot 
 dig, and to beg he is ashamed." There is 
 one resource yet left him, poor fellow, 
 one business, if it be lawful to call it 
 such, he can keep a filthy grog-shop, and 
 get a scanty subsistence by filching fips 
 from the leaky pockets of neighbouring 
 loafers. 
 
 Such, in too many instances, is the termi- 
 nation of the career of many young men 
 who arose into life with the most flattering 
 prospects. Had they avoided the evil 
 against which 1 am now warning you, they 
 would have lived in comfort and respecta- 
 bility perhaps in wealth and honour. But 
 
176 THE RESULT. 
 
 they are gone beyond the reach of hope and 
 recovery. Let their sad fate be a caution 
 to such as are yet unentangled by the net 
 which has first bound and then led them to 
 ruin. 
 
USEFULNESS. 177 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 DUTIES OF YOUNG MEN. 
 
 ALL that has been recommended in the 
 foregoing pages, intellectual and moral cul- 
 tivation, character and standing, are vastly 
 important to every young person, but they 
 are only preparatives for usefulness. To 
 gain these in any good degree, is to acquire 
 a power, which, if properly used, may be 
 extensively felt, not only among those who 
 are our immediate associates, but by all 
 men throughout society. A stone thrown 
 into the glassy bosom of the lake, sends its 
 waving ripple to the distant shore. Creation 
 in its wide extent^ now feels the effect of 
 the little Sabbath-school, raised by the toil 
 and piety of Robert Raikes. 
 
 Nothing is more true than the declara- 
 tion, "no man liveth to himself and no man 
 
178 USEFULNESS. 
 
 dieth to himself." Our every act, has in- 
 fluence somewhere for weal or wo, for the 
 happiness or misery now and hereafter 
 of those who are about us. Every man is 
 so connected with the multitude that he is 
 either doing them good, promoting their 
 peace or destroying it. The blessings which 
 your fathers have bequeathed to you their 
 children, are far richer than empty titles, 
 and yet you would pity the son who would 
 throw even these away. How much more 
 strongly are you bound to keep and preserve 
 the legacy left you ? But you are not only 
 to guard the laws and liberties of your coun- 
 try, and see that they are maintained en- 
 tire, you are expected to look well to its 
 morals too. Liberty never continued long 
 in any country after its morality had de- 
 parted. 
 
 There are many conservative influences 
 now at work in our country the direct tend- 
 ency of which is to preserve the morals of 
 the people, and thereby bless the land in 
 which we live. The public preaching of 
 the gospel and means of grace are of this 
 
EFFORTS NOW BEING MADE. 179 
 
 character. Were the churches blotted out 
 of existence and erased from the map of 
 our country, preaching suspended, and all 
 public prayer to cease, in vain would the 
 magistrate hold his seat and endeavour to 
 preserve order. Anarchy would soon en- 
 sue; anarchy of so fearful a character as to 
 render life and property unsafe. Your duty 
 then is clear and plain before you. No ar- 
 gument can be needed to convince you that 
 your influence is fully and decidedly to be 
 cast on the side of religion and virtue. 
 Stand by the public means of grace as one 
 of the main bulwarks of your country's 
 freedom, nor ought you to be willing to 
 hear religion reviled. 
 
 This, however, is not enough; you should 
 be active in its promotion. It is the opinion 
 of most of the wise and good that we live 
 on the eve of an important arid most event- 
 ful period. The world's population is be- 
 coming consolidated. The nations which 
 were once farthest apart, are now being 
 brought near to each other by the improve- 
 ments of modern times. Efforts for the 
 
180 MODERN IMPROVEMENTS. 
 
 evangelization of the world are now made 
 with an energy hitherto unknown. The 
 bible is to be published to every nation un- 
 der heaven, and missions are to be estab- 
 lished on every heathen shore, so that " all 
 may know the Lord from the least to the 
 greatest." Christian nations are to do 
 this; none else can. The Divine Being and 
 all good men are deeply interested in this 
 great work, nor can the smiles of God be 
 expected to rest upon neutrals ; every man 
 is called upon to aid in this business, to ex- 
 ert his influence be it great or small, and 
 contribute of his substance in its promo- 
 tion. 
 
 Churches are to be erected to accommo- 
 date our home population with places in 
 which they can hear the word of God. Sab- 
 bath Schools are to be kept up, and all the 
 children in the lanes and streets of cities, as 
 well as in the sparse country, are to be 
 brought under their beneficial influence. 
 Who is to do all this? The very ones whom 
 I am now addressing. The young men of 
 our land are bound to be foremost in these 
 
SABBATH SCHOOLS. 181 
 
 great works of mercy and reform. They 
 owe it to those who have gone before, and 
 to the generation that shall come after them ; 
 they owe it to God and themselves. All 
 excuses for idleness are inadmissable in this 
 stirring and active age. The time was 
 when these mighty interests could be ne- 
 glected with comparative impunity, but 
 thank Heaven, that time is passed by never 
 to return. 
 
 The teacher in a Sabbath School is in a 
 process of education, which will soon create 
 for him distinction. His moral and intel- 
 lectual powers are both being trained for 
 future activity and greatness, and his store 
 of knowledge is continually receiving new 
 acquisitions. Sabbath School libraries are 
 daily increasing by the addition of new 
 works on all subjects within the range of 
 human knowledge and research, to all of 
 which he has a ready access. This is no 
 trifling circumstance to such as have not the 
 advantage of a library of their own, and 
 whose chief complaint is want of access to 
 the right kind of books. To all such I 
 16 
 
182 SABBATH SCHOOLS. 
 
 would say, become teachers of Sabbath 
 Schools at once, and your wants in this re- 
 spect are met. 
 
 Every man whom God hath made, has 
 his place and his allotted work in His crea- 
 tion. Those who have the least talent, and 
 by circumstances seem to command the 
 least influence, are sometimes made instru- 
 ments of the greatest amount of good to 
 their fellows. No one knows what he can 
 do, or what God has intended him to do, 
 until he has tried. Each one should be 
 actuated by the desire to leave the world a 
 little better, for his having lived in it. A 
 worldly and wealthy man once took pains 
 to show a friend of mine his well cultivated 
 and highly improved lands. My friend 
 afterward took occasion to enquire, what 
 object he proposed to himself in all his 
 labors and cares? Said he, "you have 
 property enough to ensure your own com- 
 fort while you are here, without further 
 effort." What think you was his reply ? 
 Let every young man, and especially every 
 Christian hear it. " I wish to leave the 
 
v TEMPERANCE. 183 
 
 world a little better for my having lived in 
 it." What a motive for a man confessedly 
 without the fear of God. Did every man 
 feel the action of such an impulse what a 
 world would this soon be ! This land 
 would be the garden of the Lord, and every 
 heathen shore would soon be visited by 
 missionary feet the precious Bible be in 
 every man's hand, and the song of salvation 
 go up from every tongue. 
 
 Where much is given, much is required. 
 There is no question but many are short- 
 lived because they are useless. God re- 
 moves them to make a place for others who 
 will be more useful. And why should he 
 not ? Had you hired servants you would 
 do the same. Why allow a man to occupy 
 a place which he is too lazy to fill with 
 honour to himself or usefulness to his fel- 
 lows? You must, therefore, work or be 
 displaced by Him who put you where you 
 are. Necessity is laid upon you, and wo 
 to you, if you work not. 
 
 There is another field of usefulness, re- 
 cently opened to the enterprising, in the 
 
184 TEMPERANCE. 
 
 temperance reformation. This next to re- 
 ligion, is the most potent and godlike in its 
 energies for good to mankind, of any other 
 enterprize. It is yours, it is mine, it is the 
 duty of all men to co-operate in this mighty 
 system of usefulness. The presumption is, 
 that you are temperate in the strictest mean- 
 ing of the term. If this be not the case, all 
 the foregoing suggestions and recommenda- 
 tions are worthless to you, however much 
 they may benefit others, in your case, they 
 are utterly lost. Intoxicating liquor in any 
 of its forms is dangerous to every man, but 
 more especially to young persons. If you 
 taste it, as a drink, in any way, you are 
 unsafe, as the man whose boat is within the 
 draught of the falls of Niagara, and your 
 whole energy should be exerted, until you 
 have reached a place of safety. Where the 
 mighty have fallen, the feeble should feel 
 the danger. Mr. Todd, says, in relation to 
 another matter, " when you see the tail of 
 a fox projecting from the hole, you may be 
 sure the fox is there," and when you see a 
 man tasting liquor, you may be sure he will 
 
TEMPERANCE. 185 
 
 be a drunkard if he does not cease such 
 practices soon. 
 
 Being free yourself from the destructive 
 wiles of so merciless a destroyer, it is your 
 duty and interest to aid in freeing others. 
 What would be thought of the man, who 
 because he was safe himself, he was there- 
 fore to refuse to assist in saving a drowning 
 man? He would be justly called a mur- 
 derer. And I wish you to bear it in mind, 
 that you will do yourself a vast, and incal- 
 culable injury, if through pride, fear of 
 reproach, or desire of popularity among the 
 vulgar, you avoid bringing to bear upon the 
 temperance reformation, the whole weight 
 of your influence. The very fact that you 
 stand neutral, while the two parties are 
 contending in the heat of battle ; is in reality 
 and will be esteemed, a most suspicious 
 circumstance. " He who is not for us, is 
 against us." The lines are now so drawn, 
 the parties so divided, that all who are not 
 for the cause of temperance, are deemed its 
 enemies, declarations to the contrary, not- 
 withstanding. This is a wordy age, and 
 16* 
 
186 TEMPERANCE. 
 
 many a man has declared himself the friend 
 of temperance, who was its veriest enemy 
 at the same time. To question the policy, 
 and frown on the well meant efforts of 
 temperance men, who are forward and 
 active in the cause, by saying " they go too 
 far" is the known habit, the only argument 
 of moderate drinkers, and wine-bibbers," 
 who have quite substantial reasons for not 
 approving our measures. 
 
 I wish to apprize you of the fact that you 
 cannot trifle with this matter and be guilt- 
 less. It is trifling with misery in its most 
 degrading and appaling forms, and playing 
 with death, as children play with marbles. 
 If you were to see a man set up business, 
 and open a shop in the heart of a dense 
 population, for the sole purpose of poisoning 
 community by administering arsenic to all 
 whom he could entice into his den, would 
 you not feel bound as a good citizen, to try 
 to break him up ? If public meetings were 
 called to express the indignation of the peo- 
 ple, at his course, would you not make one 
 of the number ? I know you would. Nor 
 
TEMPERANCE. 187 
 
 will you long be called a good citizen unless 
 you do the same in relation to liquor sellers. 
 Their purpose is not to destroy men it is 
 true, but they do it notwithstanding, and 
 you know it, and are therefore bound by 
 every argument and reason, that can influ- 
 ence an honest man, to oppose them in their 
 work of death. 
 
 By taking a decided stand, in the front 
 rank of the temperance army and exerting 
 yourselves like men, you may win laurels 
 of renown and wear them during life. In 
 fact 1 know of no path to usefulness and 
 popularity so easy and short as this. Here 
 you can accustom yourselves to useful 
 labors, to public speaking, and the manage- 
 ment of influence at an early day. And 
 can you deny yourselves the honorable 
 reputation to be acquired in such a work of 
 mercy ? 
 
 The world has a great claim on you, be- 
 cause of the important relation you bear to 
 society. Useful or injurious to others, you 
 must be. Your fathers of a former genera- 
 tion are many of them yet living, and fixing 
 
188 RESPONSIBILITIES. 
 
 their eyes upon you, wondering what course 
 you will take. To their tottering age, you 
 will be expected to lend the hand of kind 
 assistance, to close their eyes in death, and 
 quietly lay them in the grave. Behind you 
 and treading fast in your footseps are the 
 members of another generation, whose 
 habits, modes of life, and thought, you will 
 mightily influence either for good or for 
 evil. A vast burden of responsibility is 
 thus laid upon your shoulders without your 
 consent, nor can you easily, or innocently 
 shake it off. Circumstances now existing 
 place you far in the advance of those who 
 have gone before, and therefore, more is 
 expected from you, wide is the field for 
 the display of your active powers, and vast 
 are the interests staked, and pending on 
 your decision. 
 
 Practical benevolence, is in this day a 
 great and ennobling virtue. Selfish parsi- 
 mony as it ought to be, has always been 
 despised by the worthy and enlightened, in 
 every community. There is that with- 
 holdeth and tendeth to poverty/' has been 
 
RESPONSIBILITIES. 189 
 
 a frequent matter of sad experiment. Men 
 can do good with their money as well as 
 anything else that they have, nor should we 
 ever deny ourselves the privilege, when 
 opportunity offers. I once knew a me- 
 chanic to be driven out of a large town, by 
 want of employment, because he refused 
 to cast a penny in the basket at church. 
 Those who would have employed him, on 
 seeing his disposition to withhold aid from 
 others, refused him theirs, and turned their 
 work into other hands. He who wishes to 
 live among men, must show himself a man, 
 or he need not hope for success. 
 
 In conclusion, suffer me to enquire if you 
 can see no reason why you should attempt 
 all this ? Does not the pleasure of an honor- 
 able reputation for doing good, to yourself 
 first, and then to the bodies and souls of 
 other men, hold out an invitation so strong 
 as to be difficult to resist ? Irreligion, in- 
 temperance, and sin of all kinds, have 
 united their energies to ruin and devastate 
 our earth, it is for you, by the grace of 
 God to oppose and overcome these deadly 
 
190 RESPONSIBILITIES, 
 
 foes to human peace and prosperity. It is 
 not enough that you praise those now en- 
 gaged in laudable efforts to benefit their 
 race, much more than this is expected at 
 your hands. You are to take hold your- 
 selves, and be forward in promoting every 
 good work. You should covet the posts of 
 greatest responsibility, and willingly do the 
 very drudgery of benevolence by so doing 
 you shall deserve well of your generation, 
 and receive all your deserts. 
 
 TJIE END. 
 
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 THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY