Golden Steps to Respectability, Usefulness and Happiness / Being a Series of Lectures to Youth of Both Sexes, on Character, Principles, Associates, Amusements, Religion, and Marriage

Selection of Associates.

"Be not thou envious against evil men, neither desire to be with them; for their heart studieth destruction, and their lips talk of mischief."—Prov. xxiv. I, 2.

here is nothing more important to the youthful, or that should receive more serious consideration at their hands, than the selection of Associates. We are by nature social beings. We desire, we seek, and enjoy, the society of our fellow-creatures. This trait is strongly developed in the young. They yearn for each other's companionship, and they must have it, or they pine away, and sink into misanthropy. This disposition may properly be indulged; but great care and prudence should be exercised in regard to it.

While mingling in each other's society, it is natural, almost unavoidable, that the youthful should imbibe much of the leading characteristics of their associates. Being highly imitative in our nature, it is impossible to be on social and familiar terms with others, for any great length of time, without copying somewhat of their dispositions, ways, and habits.

Let a young man, however upright and pure, associate habitually with those who are profane, Sabbath-breaking, intemperate, and unprincipled—who are given to gambling, licentiousness, and every low, brutal and wicked practice—and but a brief space of time will elapse before he will fall into like habits himself, and become as great an adept in iniquitous proceedings as the most thorough-paced profligate among them. When a young woman associates with girls who are idle, disrespectful and disobedient to parents—who are vulgar, brazen-faced, loud talkers and laughers—whose chief occupation and delight is to spin street-yarn, to run from house to house and store to store, and walk the streets in the evening, instead of being at home engaged in some useful occupation—whose whole conversation, and thoughts, and dreams, relate to dress, and fashion, and gewgaws, and trinkets, to adorn the person, utterly negligent of the ornaments of the mind and heart—whose reading never extends to instructive and useful books, but is confined exclusively to sickly novels and silly love-stories;—how long will it be before she will become as careless and good-for-nothing as they?

This predisposition of the young to imitate the characteristics of those with whom they associate, has been so well and so long known, that it has given rise to the old proverb—"Show me your company, and I will show you your character." So perfectly did Solomon understand this, that he uttered the wise maxim—"Make no friendship with an angry man; and with a furious man thou shalt not go; lest thou learn his ways, and get a snare to thy soul."

The young should remember, that people will judge them by the company they keep. This principle is perfectly correct. In selecting their associates, they act voluntarily. They choose such as they please. When they seek the society of the ignorant, the vulgar, the profane and profligate, they give the best of reasons for believing that they prefer profligacy and vulgarity to virtue and purity. To what other conclusion can the observer come? If they preferred virtue and purity, they would certainly seek pure and virtuous associates. Hence society have adopted the very correct principle of judging the young, by the character of their associates. If they would be thought well of, they should strive to associate with those who are known to be virtuous and good. However blameless and upright young persons may have been, if they begin to associate with those whose reputation is poor, and whose conduct is improper, they will soon be esteemed no higher than their companions.

These reflections show the youthful how important it is, that their associates should be of the right stamp. They should see the necessity of selecting their companions. The great difficulty with the young is, that they leave this important matter altogether too much to "chance." If they happen to fall into good company, it is very well; and their associates and intimate friends will be likely to be of that class. But if, unfortunately, they meet with the vicious and unprincipled, and are, to any great extent, thrown in their way, they are as likely to form intimacies with them as with any others.

Such negligence is exceedingly unpromising and dangerous. Whoever allows it, will be in far more danger of falling under the influence of the vicious than the exemplary. Instead of this heedlessness, they should carefully and thoughtfully select their associates. They should not be willing to form terms of intimacy with, every one into whose society they may be casually thrown. They should inform themselves of their tastes, habits, and reputation. And from the circle of their acquaintance should choose those with whom they would form terms of intimacy.

Be cautious to select aright. The entire career in after-life depends very much on this. How many a young woman of fine attractions has had her reputation injured, and her prospects for life destroyed, by associating with those whose character and habits proved to be bad. When once young women get a taint on their reputation in this way, or in any other manner, it is exceedingly difficult to wipe it out.

The ruin of multitudes of young men can be traced to the same origin—a bad selection of associates. I have in my mind's eye now, a case in point. A young man, born in this city, and known to most of you, was naturally endowed with the rarest abilities and the finest talents. He belonged to one of the most wealthy and respectable families. He had every advantage for cultivation, and for the highest and most thorough education. Had he been thoughtful and wise to have improved his opportunities, the way was open for him to the highest advancement. He might have been blessed with respectability, wealth, and honors. He could have risen to the most dignified positions in life. His voice might have been heard in strains of persuasive eloquence, from the sacred pulpit, or in the halls of justice, or in the senate chamber of our state or national councils. He might have occupied a seat on the bench of the highest courts, or have aspired to the executive chair of the nation. But where is he now, and what are his circumstances and his position in the world? See issuing from the door of yonder filthy groggery; a wretched specimen of humanity—the distorted caricature of a man! His garments are thread-bare and patched—his eyes are inflamed, sunken and watery—his countenance bloated and livid—his limbs swelled and tottering. Although but in the morning of his manhood, yet the lines of premature old age and decrepitude are deeply carved upon his pale, dejected face; and in his whole aspect, there is that forlorn, broken-spirited, anguished look of despair, which shows he himself feels that he has sunken, beyond earthly redemption, into the awful pit of the confirmed drunkard! This is the young man whose early opportunities were so favorable, and whose prospects were so bright and flattering. He has become a curse to himself, he has brought disgrace and wretchedness on his connections, and is an outcast and vagabond, with whom no young man who now hears me would associate for a single hour!

What has brought him to this pitiable condition—this state of utter wretchedness? It was a want of forethought. He totally neglected the considerations I have endeavored to impress upon the young. He was careless and indifferent in regard to his associates. He would not be admonished to turn from the company of the vicious, and seek the society of those of good habits and upright character. Despite the counsel of parents and friends, he would associate with companions of corrupt habits—with the profane, the drinking, the Sabbath-breaking—those whose chief delight was to visit oyster-cellars and grog-shops—whose highest ambition was to excel in cards, and dice, and sleight-of-hand tricks—and who sought for no better employment than to range the streets and alleys, to engage in midnight adventures and Bacchanalian revelries. Mingling with such as his associates, and falling unavoidably into their habits, he is now reaping the bitter—BITTER fruits of his folly. His time misspent—character destroyed—health ruined—every source of happiness obliterated—his life wasted and literally thrown away—his days, a blank—ah! worse than that—filled with the terrific visions, the horrid dreams, the flames of the unquenchable fire, which float and burn in the veins of the confirmed inebriate!

Young men! Do you shudder at the condition of this wretched youth, whose form yet flits like a shadow through our streets? Would you avoid his fate? Do you start back in affright at the mere thought of becoming the poor, cast-off wreck of humanity that he is? Then avoid the rock on which he foundered his bark. Shun, as you would a nest of vipers, the company of the reckless and profligate. Avoid all association, all companionship, all intimacy, with those whose habits deviate from the high rules of rectitude, purity, and virtue.

Allow me to paint you a picture of an opposite character, drawn also from real life. I have another young man in my mind's eye, who originated in our own county. He had but few of the advantages of him whose melancholy career I have painted. He was the son of parents who possessed but little means, and who could afford him no assistance after the days of childhood. He was early placed to the hard labor of a mechanic. But he did not sink into lewdness and vice, under the pressure of his adverse circumstances. He would not spend his leisure hours at public resorts, in the midst of the profligate and reckless. Each moment of respite from labor, he applied himself to study and the improvement of his mind. With great wisdom he avoided the company of idle, profane and vicious youth; and would associate with none but the discreet, the intelligent and virtuous. He was determined to RISE in the world, and to win a name which should live long after he should pass from the earth. He placed his mark high! With indomitable courage and unwearied perseverance, he pursued the path he had chosen for himself. He cut his way through every obstacle, and overcame every hindrance and difficulty, though they might seem to tower mountain high. Friends came to his aid, as they will to the assistance of every youth who is industriously seeking to rise in the world by the strength of his own merits. At length, after great exertions, he obtained a profession, and entered into a field where he could bring into active exercise the fund of knowledge he had been acquiring under so many difficulties. One thus industrious, thus pure in his habits, thus upright and honorable in all his transactions, could not fail to receive the commendation and confidence of his fellow-citizens. Rapidly he rose from one post of honor to another. Ere long he was sent to the Legislature of our State. Soon he entered the halls of Congress, where he won the confidence of his compeers, and arose to honorable distinction. From step to step he advanced—high and higher still he ascended the ladder of fame—until now, the poor mechanic boy of Montville, occupies the second place in the gift of the American people—within one step of the highest pinnacle of fame to which man can attain on the earth! How noble the career—how splendid the example—placed before the youth of our country, in the history of this eminent man! How honorable to himself—how worthy of imitation.

I need not ask the young men of this audience, which place they would prefer to occupy, the position of the poor inebriate of whom I have spoken, or that of the Vice-President of the United States? It is instructive to inquire why the one, with opportunities so good, sunk so low, and the other, with early advantages so limited, has arisen so high? This disparity in their condition is to be attributed to the different paths they selected at the outset of life. While the one trampled on all his advantages, and foolishly associated with the vicious and unprincipled, the other diligently applied himself to the acquisition of useful knowledge, and was scrupulous to associate with none but those who were discreet and virtuous, and whose influence was calculated to elevate and purify him.

These two cases, drawn from real life, are but a specimen of instances with which the world is filled. They show how immensely important it is for the young to reflect maturely on the course they would pursue, and the necessity of selecting for their associates such as have habits, tastes, and principles, proper for commendation and imitation.

Most of those who come under the influence of corrupt associates, are led thither more from sheer thoughtlessness, than from any disposition to become depraved. They fall into the company of those who are gay, sociable and pleasant in their manners; who make time pass agreeably, and who contrive many ways to drive dull care away, which do not, in themselves, appear very bad. The thoughtless youth becomes attached to their society, and gradually gives himself up to their influence. Almost imperceptibly to himself, he follows them farther and farther from the path of rectitude, until, before he is aware of it, some vicious habit has fixed its fangs upon him, and made him its wretched slave for life.

The difficulty in these cases, is the want of a due exercise of reflection and discernment. The young should guard against being deceived by outward appearances. Beneath a pleasant, agreeable exterior—beneath sociability and attractive manners—there may lurk vicious propensities, depraved appetites, and habits of the most corrupt nature. Hence the young should look beyond the surface, and guard against deceptive appearances. It should not be enough to make a young man or a young woman your associate, that they are sociable and attractive in their manners, and can make their company agreeable. Search farther than this. Strive to know their tastes, their habits, their principles. Inquire how, and where, they spend their leisure hour's—in what company do they mingle—what practices do they approbate—what is their general conduct and demeanor? If in all these respects, they are found to be discreet, virtuous, and worthy of imitation, then hesitate not to associate with them, and allow yourself to be influenced by them. But if you find them deficient in any of these characteristics, however attractive they may be in other respects, shun their company, and avoid their influence. The effect of associating with them would be to lead you astray, to your ruin.

In selecting associates, studiously avoid those who are low, coarse, and vulgar in their behavior and manners. Rudeness and vulgarity are unbecoming any age. But they are especially offensive and indecorous in youth. The young man, or young woman, who has not sufficient self-respect and pride of character to deport themselves with modesty, circumspection, and politeness, is unfitted to be an associate. A bold, brazen, forward demeanor, indicates a heart far from possessing those delicate and amiable traits, which are alone worthy of imitation. Vulgarity in language or demeanor, indicates a vitiated heart. Cultivation and refinement of manners are, to a good degree, evidence of a pure spirit, and high and honorable feelings.

The youth who is truly polite, has a great advantage, in every respect, over those who are deficient in this desirable qualification. Many, however, entertain very erroneous views of the nature of politeness. It does not consist in putting on an air, a simper, a strut, or a bow. Neither is it to be manifested in high-flown words, or a fashionable pronunciation. Many young persons who can make very accomplished bows, and go through all the postures and attitudes of the schools, are still ignorant of the first principles of genuine politeness, and violate them every day. Politeness is not to be learned of the dancing-master, the fop, or the belle. Do you inquire where it can be obtained? I answer, in the gospel of our Saviour. True-hearted Christians are always polite. They cannot be otherwise, while influenced by the Christian spirit. For the first great principle of true politeness is found in the Saviour's golden rule—"All things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them." Treat others as you wish to be treated yourself, and you cannot fail of being polite. Treat them as you wish not to be treated, and you are ill-bred and vulgar, though you may be dressed in the extreme of fashion, and steeped in Cologne! Politeness, in its true acceptation, is but another word for kindness. The truly polite man and woman, are not haughty, nor exclusive—they are not starched, nor supercilious. They show their politeness in being respectful to the feelings of persons of every rank, condition, and complexion. They treat all kindly and gently; and seek to make those in their presence to feel easy and happy. The whole secret of politeness may be summed up in a single sentence—Make yourselves agreeable and pleasant to whomsoever you meet. With this intent, your manners will be easy and natural; and you will be polite in every true sense of the word, though brought up in the centre of the wilderness.

In selecting those they would imitate in regard to politeness, the young should not choose the starched fop, the gaudily-dressed dandy, who may owe all their attractions to the unpaid tailor—nor the fashionable belle, who sneers upon everything plain and useful. They, more than all others, violate the first principles of politeness in their demeanor. But select the plain-dressed, the modest, the affable, the kind and friendly at heart. In these you find the true lady—the genuine gentleman.

In regard to this whole subject of the selection of associates, I would earnestly counsel the young to listen respectfully to the advice of their parents, guardians, and elder friends. They should not be headstrong, nor wise in their own conceits; but should yield to the counsel of others. Your parents are far better calculated to judge of associates than themselves. You are liable to be blinded to their defects, and deceived by specious appearances. But parents scrutinize them from a different position. They have been through the school of experience, and are much better prepared to judge of character. Listen, O ye youthful! to their warning voice. They are moved by love for you—they speak for your good. When they entreat you to avoid the society of certain individuals, and escape their influence, heed their exhortations. Your own heart will tell you, that your father and mother would not speak, simply to thwart your feelings; but that they see danger hovering around you, and would snatch you away, as the bird from the fowler's snare! That is a wise and promising son—a prudent and hopeful daughter—who pays respectful deference to the counsel of parents, and yields a cheerful compliance with their wishes!

Habits and Amusements.

"Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established."—Prov. iv. 20.

here is not a youth present this evening, who will not acknowledge this to be sound and wholesome advice. Were you walking in a slippery, dangerous way, amid the darkness of midnight, you would give the strictest heed to the friendly precaution—"Ponder the path of thy feet. Be careful where you step. When you put your foot down, see to it, that it rests on something well-established—some rock, some spot of earth, that is firm and solid." This advice would be heeded, because of your consciousness that by stepping heedlessly, you would be in danger of stumbling into a pit, or falling over a precipice, where your limbs would be broken, or life destroyed. Simple discretion would bid you beware, under such circumstances. The youthful should fully realize that they are walking in a pathway, which to them is wholly untried and unknown. It is a road surrounded by many dangers, unseen by the careless traveller; where he is liable to be lured aside to ruin, by a thousand fascinations and temptations, and where multitudes possessing the best advantages, the highest talents, the brightest genius, the rarest gifts, have stumbled and fallen, to rise no more on earth. While pressing on ardently and thoughtlessly in this dangerous highway, apprehending no difficulty, and fearing no peril, a voice from on high calls to the young, and urges them to "Ponder the path of their feet, and to let all their ways—their footsteps—be established!" There is wisdom, prudence, goodness, in this exhortation.

Question the old man—the aged traveller—who has passed over this pathway of life, and is just ready to step up into the mysterious road of a higher existence. Ask him as to his experience—beseech him for advice. Looking back through the vista of his long and chequered way, of light and shadow, of joy and sorrow, he will exclaim—"O ye youthful! Give heed to the admonition of the wise man—'Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be established.'"

The admonition of the text is important in reference to the Habits and Amusements of the youthful. We are all more or less the creatures of habit. Our ways, from earliest infancy, are more the result of the force of habit, than we are generally aware. The actions, words, and thoughts of men, form for themselves certain channels, in which they continually seek to flow, unless turned aside by a strong hand, and a painful effort.

Habits are formed insensibly. We are not aware of any moment when they are created; but the first consciousness of their being fixed upon us, is, when their great power is felt impelling us strongly to certain courses. A single deed does not create a habit. One thread of hemp forms not a rope. It contains but a very slight amount of strength. But when a large number of threads are laid and twisted together, they make the mighty cable, which, attached to the ship, enables lier to bid a proud defiance to the fierce gales and mountain billows of ocean. Thus the young are continually, yet unconsciously, spinning the threads of habit. Day by day the strands increase, and are twisted tighter together; until at length they become strong and unyielding cords, binding their possessor to customs and practices which fix his character and prospects for life.

It is of the greatest importance that the young should inquire faithfully into the nature of the habits they are forming. They should not fall into self-deception—a common error, on this subject. The love of indulgence should not be permitted to blind them to the legitimate consequences of careless habits. Let them look abroad on their fellow-beings, and critically study the tendencies and fruits of their habits. When they see one prosperous in life—one who is respected, confided in, and beloved by all—who leads a quiet, pleasant and peaceful life,—mark his habits, and strive to imitate them. They will bless them as well as him, if faithfully practised. And when they behold a man disliked and despised by his neighbors, especially by those who know him best—or one who has fallen into disgrace and ruin; who has, lost his character, his health, his happiness, and become an outcast and vagabond,—let them not fail to learn what his habits have been. Look at them carefully and critically. Ponder well the effect they have had upon him. And then strive to avoid them. Shun them as the poisonous viper whose sting is death. Let them wind not a single coil of their fatal chains around the free spirit of the young. The same appalling consequences will be visited on every youth who indulges them, that have fallen on those whose condition excites Loth pity and loathing in their breasts.

In youth, habits are much easier formed and corrected, than at a later period of life. If they are right now, preserve, strengthen and mature them. If they are wrong—if they have any dangerous influence or tendency—correct them immediately. Delay not the effort an hour. The earlier you make the attempt to remedy a bad habit, the easier it will be accomplished. Every day adds to its strength and vigor; until, if not conquered in due time, it will become a voracious monster, devouring everything good and excellent. It will make its victim a miserable, drivelling slave, to be continually lashed and scourged into the doing of its low and wretched promptings. Hence the importance of attending to the habits in early life, when they are easily controlled and corrected. If the young do not make themselves the masters of their passions, appetites, and habits, these will soon become their masters, and make them their tool and bond-men through all their days.

Usually at the age of thirty years, the moral habits become fixed for life. New ones are seldom formed after that age; and quite as seldom are old ones abandoned. There are exceptions to this rule; but in general, it holds good. If the habits are depraved and vicious at that age, there is little hope of amendment. But if they are correct—if they are characterized by virtue, goodness, and sobriety—there is a flattering prospect of a prosperous and peaceful life. Remember, the habits are not formed, nor can they be corrected, in a single week or month. It requires years to form them, and years will be necessary to correct them permanently, when they are wrong. Hence, in order to possess good habits at maturity, it is all-important to commence schooling the passions, curbing the appetites, and bringing the whole moral nature under complete control, early in youth. This work cannot be commenced too soon. The earlier the effort, the easier it can be accomplished. To straighten the tender twig, when it grows awry from the ground, is the easiest thing imaginable. A child can do it at the touch of its finger. But let the twig become a matured tree before the attempt is made, and it will baffle all the art of man to bring it to a symmetrical position. It must be uprooted from the very soil before this can be accomplished. It is not difficult to correct a bad habit when it commences forming. But wait until it has become fully developed, and it will require a long and painful exertion of every energy to correct it.

Permit me to enumerate a few of the more important habits, which the young should seek to cultivate.

First of all—the most important of all—and that, indeed, which underlies and gives coloring to all others—is the habit of TEMPERANCE. Surely it is needless for me, at this day, to dwell upon the evils of intemperance. It cannot be necessary to paint the bitter consequences—the destruction to property, health, reputation—the overthrow of the peace of families, the want and misery, to which its victims are frequently reduced. The disgrace, the wretchedness, the ruin, the useless and ignominious life, and the horrid death, which are so often caused by habits of intemperance, are seen, and known to all. No one attempts, no one thinks of denying them. The most interested dealer, or retailer in intoxicating drinks—the most confirmed inebriate—will acknowledge without hesitation, that intemperance is the direst evil that ever cursed a fallen race!! The deleterious consequences of other vices may sometimes be concealed for a season, from outward observation. Not so with intemperance. It writes its loathsome name, in legible characters, upon the very brow of its wretched victim. "I am a drunkard!" is as plainly to be read as though a printed label was posted there!

Need I warn—need I exhort—the young to avoid the habit of intemperance. Perhaps there is not a youth present, who is not ready to say, "To me this exhortation is needless. I have not the slightest expectation of becoming a drunkard!" Of course not. There never was a man who desired, or expected, to become a victim to intemperance. The great danger of this habit is, that it creeps stealthily and imperceptibly upon the unwary. It does its work gradually. The most besotted inebriate cannot tell you the day, nor the month, when he became a confirmed drunkard. It is in the nature of this habit, that those who expose themselves at all to its assaults, become its victims, while they are entirely unaware of it.

The only safeguard and security, against this scourge of man, is total abstinence from all intoxicating drinks!! Here is the true, the safe ground for the young. There is no other condition of entire security. No man who drinks, however sparingly, has assurance of a sober life. He needlessly, and foolishly, places himself in danger—turns his footsteps into the only path that can possibly lead to the drunkard's ruin and the drunkard's grave!

Drink the first drop that can intoxicate, and your feet stand at the very brink of the ocean of intemperance. Its briny waters are composed of human tears. Its winds, the sighs of those made poor and wretched by the inebriation of husbands, fathers, sons. Its billows, ever tossing, are overhung with black and lowering clouds, and illuminated only by the lightning's vivid flash, while hoarse thunders reverberate over the wide and desolate waste. Engulphed in this dreary ocean, the wretched drunkard is buffeted hither and thither, at the mercy of its angry waves—now dashed on jagged rocks, bruised and bleeding—then engulphed in raging whirlpools to suffocating depths—anon, like a worthless weed, cast high into the darkened heavens by the wild water-spout, only to fall again into the surging deep, to be tossed to and fro on waters which cannot rest! Rash youth! Would you launch away on this sea of death? Quaff of the intoxicating bowl, and soon its hungry waves will be around you. Would you avoid a fate so direful? Seal your lips to the first drop, and the drear prospect will sink forever from your vision!

Young men who would guard themselves against the baleful habit of intemperance, should shun all resorts where intoxicating drinks are vended. They should avoid throwing themselves in the way of temptation. "Lead us not into temptation," should be the constant prayer of the young. When by any combination of circumstances, they find themselves in the company of those who quaff of the poisoned bowl, whether in public or private, they should exercise a manly pride in firmly refusing to participate in their potations. This is a legitimate and commendable pride, of which the young cannot have too much. Let them place themselves on the high rock of principle, and their feet will not slide in the trying hour.

"The young man walks in the midst of temptations to appetite, the improper indulgence of which is in danger of proving his ruin. Health, longevity, and virtue depend on his resisting these temptations. The providence of God is no more responsible, because a man of improper indulgence becomes subject to disease, than for picking his pockets. For a young man to injure his health, is to waste his patrimony and destroy his capacity for virtuous deeds.