"One of the most mischievous phrases in which a rotten Morality, a radically false and vicious Public Sentiment, disguise themselves, is that which characterizes certain individuals as destitute of financial capacity. A 'kind, amiable, generous, good sort of man,' (so runs the varnish,) 'but utterly unqualified for the management of his own finances'—'a mere child in everything relating to money,' &c. &c.—meaning that with an income of $500 a year, he persisted in spending $1000; or with an income of from $2000 to $3000, he regularly spent from $5000 to $8000, according to his ability to run in debt, or the credulity of others in trusting him.
"The victims of this immorality—debtor as well as creditor—are entitled to more faithful dealing at the hands of those not directly affected by the misdemeanors of the former. It is the duty of the community to rebuke and repress these pernicious glosses, making the truth heard and felt, that inordinate expenditure is knavery and crime. No man has a moral right thus to lavish on his own appetites, money which he has not earned, and does not really need. If public opinion were sound on this subject—if a man living beyond his means, when his means were commensurate with his real needs, were subjected to the reprehension he deserves—the evil would be instantly checked, and ultimately eradicated.
"The world is full of people who can't imagine why they don't prosper like their neighbors, when the real obstacle is not in the banks nor tariffs, in bad public policy nor hard times, but in their own extravagance and heedless ostentation. The young mechanic or clerk marries and takes a house, which he proceeds to furnish twice as expensively as he can afford; and then his wife, instead of taking hold to help him earn a livelihood by doing her own work, must have a hired servant to help her spend his limited earnings. Ten years afterward, you will find him struggling on under a double load of debts and children, wondering why the luck was always against him, while his friends regret his unhappy destitution of financial ability. Had they, from the first, been frank and honest, he need not have been so unlucky.
"Through every grade of society this vice of inordinate expenditure insinuates itself. The single man 'hired out' in the country at ten to fifteen dollars per month, who contrives to dissolve his year's earnings in frolics and fine clothes; the clerk who has three to five hundred dollars a year, and melts down twenty to fifty of it into liquor and cigars, are paralleled by the young merchant who fills a spacious house with costly furniture, gives dinners, and drives a fast horse, on the strength of the profits he expects to realize when his goods are all sold and his notes all paid. Let a man have a genius for spending, and whether his income is a dollar a day or a dollar a minute, it is equally certain to prove inadequate. If dining, wining, and party-giving won't help him through with it, building, gaming, and speculation will be sure to. The bottomless pocket will never fill, no matter how bounteous the stream pouring into it. The man who (being single) does not save money on six dollars a week, will not be apt to on sixty; and he who does not lay up something in his first year of independent exertion, will be pretty likely to wear a poor man's hair into his grave.
"No man who has the natural use of his faculties and his muscles, has any right to tax others with the cost of his support, as this class of non-financial gentlemen habitually do. It is their common mistake to fancy that if a debt is only paid at last, the obligation of the debtor is fulfilled; but the fact is not so. A man who sells his property for another's promise to pay next week or next month, and is compelled to wear out a pair of boots in running after his due, which he finally gets after a year or two, is never really paid. Very often, he has lost half the face of his demand, by not having the money when he needed it, beside the cost and vexation of running after it. There is just one way to pay an obligation in full, and that is to pay it when due. He who keeps up a running fight with bills and loans through life, is continually living on other men's means, is a serious burden and a detriment to those who deal with him, although his estate should finally pay every dollar of his legal obligations.
"Inordinate expenditure is the cause of a great share of the crime and consequent misery which devastate the world. The clerk who spends more than he earns, is fast qualifying himself for a gambler and a thief; the trader or mechanic who overruns his income, is very certain to become in time a trickster and a cheat. Wherever you see a man spending faster than he earns, there look out for villainy to be developed, though it be the farthest thing possible from his present thought.
"When the world shall have become wiser, and its standard of morality more lofty, it will perceive and affirm that profuse expenditure, even by one who can pecuniarily afford it, is pernicious and unjustifiable—that a man, however wealthy, has no right to lavish on his own appetites, his tastes, or his ostentation, that which might have raised hundreds from destitution and despair to comfort and usefulness. But that is an improvement in public sentiment which must be waited for, while the other is more ready and obvious.
"The meanness, the dishonesty, the iniquity, of squandering thousands unearned, and keeping others out of money that is justly theirs, have rarely been urged and enforced as they should be. They need but to be considered and understood, to be universally loathed and detested."[4]
Nearly allied with the Habits of the young, are their Amusements. That the youthful should be allowed a reasonable degree of recreation, is universally admitted. The laws of health demand relaxation from the labors and cares of life. The body, the mind, constantly strained to the highest exertion, without repose, and something to cheer, refreshen, and re-invigorate it, will speedily fall into disease and death. The very word recreation—(re-creation)—indicates that to a degree, proper amusement has the power to revive the wearied energies, supply afresh the springs of life, and give a renewed elasticity and endurance to all the capacities of our nature.
Yet there is no subject surrounded with greater difficulties, than the amusements of the youthful. There is no amusement, however harmless and proper in its nature, but what can be carried to such excess, as to inflict deep injury. It is while searching for recreations, that the youthful meet the most dangerous temptations, and fall into the most vicious practices. How important that they should make this a matter of mature reflection and acute discrimination. Pleasure we all desire. It is sought for by every human being. But it is essential to distinguish between true pleasure, which we can enjoy with real benefit, and false pleasure, which deceives, demoralizes, and destroys. The poet truly describes the nature of this distinction, when he says,
Our greatest evil, or our greatest good!"
One of the first things requisite to be understood is, that in order to enjoy any amusement, a previous preparation is necessary. That preparation is to be obtained by useful occupation. It is only by contrast that we can enjoy anything.—Without weariness, we can know nothing of rest. Without first enduring hunger and thirst, we cannot experience the satisfaction of partaking of food and drink. In like manner, it is only by faithful and industrious application to business of some kind—it is only by occupying the mind in useful employment—that we can draw any satisfaction from recreation. Without this preparation, all amusement loses its charm. Were the young to engage in one unceasing round of pastimes, from day to day, with no time or thought devoted to useful occupation, recreation would soon be divested of its attractions, and become insipid and painfully laborious. To be beneficial, amusements should be virtuous in their tendencies, healthful in their influence on the body, and of brief duration.
Among the many pastimes to which the young resort for amusement, card-playing often fills a prominent place. This is a general, and in some circles, a fashionable practice; but it is objectionable and injurious in all its influences, and in every possible point of view. Nothing good or instructive, nothing elevating or commendable, in any sense, can come from it. All its fruits must necessarily be evil.
It is a senseless occupation. Nothing can be more unmeaning and fruitless, among all the employments to which a rational mind can devote its attention. It affords no useful exercise of the intellect—no food for profitable thought—no power to call into activity the higher and better capacities. It is true, I suppose, there is some degree of cunning and skill to be displayed in managing the cards. But what high intellectual, or moral capacity is brought into exercise by a game so trivial? It excludes interesting and instructive interchanges of sentiment; on topics of any degree of importance; and substitutes talk of a frivolous and meaningless character. To a spectator, the conversation of a card-table, is of the most uninteresting and childish description.
There are, however, more serious objections than these. Card-playing has a tendency of the most dangerous description, especially to the youthful. Let a young man become expert in this game, and fond of engaging in it, and who does not see he is liable to become that most mean and despicable of all living creatures—a GAMBLER. Confident of his own skill as a card-player, how long would he hesitate to engage in a game for a small sum? He has seen older ones playing—perhaps his own parents—and he can discover no great harm in doing the same thing even if it is for a stake of a few shillings. From playing for small sums, the steps are very easy which lead to large amounts. And in due time, the young man becomes a gambler, from no other cause than that he acquired a love for card-playing, when he engaged in it only as an amusement.
Parents have a responsibility resting on them in this respect, of which they should not lose sight. They cannot be surprised that their children imitate their examples. With all the dangerous associations and tendencies of card-playing, would they have their children acquire a passion for it? What wise parent can make such a choice for his son? Ah, how many a young man has become a gamester, a black-leg, an inmate of the prison cell, because, in the home of his childhood, he acquired a love of the card-table. He but imitated the practice of parents, whose duty it was to set him a better example, and was led to the path of ruin!
If, from its influences, card-playing, even for amusement, is improper for gentlemen, I conceive it much more so for ladies. A woman—and more especially a young woman—seems entirely out of place at a card-table. The associations are so masculine—they bring to mind so much of the cut-and-shuffle trickery, vulgarity and profanity—so many of the words and phrases of that hell, the gaming-table—that for a lady to indulge in them, appears entirely opposed to that modesty and refinement, which are so becoming the female character. I trust all young ladies of discretion will shun the card-table. I am confident every woman, who possesses a proper sense of the dignity and delicacy which form the highest attractions of the female character, will avoid a practice which is made an instrument of the most despicable uses, and to which the most vile and abandoned constantly resort.
Dared the dark storm and angry sea,
And walked the desert way of woe,
And pain, and trouble to be free!
And bow beneath affliction's rod;
Like them be watchful, high and pure—
In all things seek the smile of God."
The same caution I have uttered in regard to card-playing, I would apply to all games of hazard and chance. The young should never indulge in them, even for amusement. Although they may be able to see no harm in them as recreations, yet the influences they exert, and the associations into which they lead, cannot but exert a deleterious influence. They can do no good. They may lead to the most dire results!
Another amusement in which the youthful frequently engage, is Dancing. This is the most fascinating of pastimes. And it might be made the most proper, healthful, and invigorating. In the simple act of dancing—of moving the body in unison with strains of music—there can be no harm. It is a custom which has been practised in all ages, and among all nations, both civilized and barbarous. The very lambs in the green and sunny meadow, and the cattle on a thousand hills, in many a fantastic game, exult and rejoice in the blessings a kind Providence bestows upon them. It is one of Nature's methods of attesting the consciousness of enjoyment.
Dancing, when viewed in the light of a pleasant bodily exercise, is undoubtedly healthy and beneficial. It is peculiarly so to females, and those whose occupation and habits are of a sedentary character. When properly engaged in, it strengthens the limbs, developes the chest, enlarges the lungs, and invigorates the whole system.
But this pastime is greatly abused, and is so perverted as to have become one of the most serious evils. In this view, it is subject to severe and well-grounded censure. As dancing is usually conducted in modern times, it has proved one of the greatest evils into which the youthful have fallen. The routs and balls to which the young resort, as generally managed, cannot be too severely condemned. The late hours to which they are prolonged—the rich and unhealthy pastry partaken of in abundance—the intoxicating drinks passed around, or conveniently found in the side-room, or at the bar—the thoughtless manner of dressing, exposing to cold and damp, and so confining the lungs, that when, by reason of exercise, they need the most room for expansion, they have the least, thus sowing the seeds of speedy disease and early death—the long-continued excitement and over-fatigue—the improper company which often assembles on such occasions—these all combine to make such assemblages a source of injury in all their influences and consequences. They should be discountenanced by every parent and well-wisher of public good. The young of both sexes, who have any just regard for their morals—and their health, should avoid these routs, and balls, and cotillion parties. Their tendency, in every respect, is evil in the extreme.
Dancing among children [unreadable] their pastimes—or by young people, at private parties, or social gatherings, engaged in temperately, and for a brief period, with proper precautions in regard to health, cannot, be objectionable. In this, as in most other amusements, it is the excess, the abuse, that causes the injury.
In urging these considerations on the young, I would not seek to deprive them of any amusement suited to their age and circumstances. Youth is the season of joyousness—of light-hearted pleasure, and budding hope. I would not overshadow one ray of its bright and beautiful sunshine—nor check one throb of its innocent pleasure. The shadows, the cares, and burthens of life, will come upon them full early enough, at the latest. In the spring-time of their days—the delicious, romantic morning of their being—they can experience some of the sweetest hours of their earthly existence. Nor would I rob them of that which God and nature designed them to enjoy. But I would have them seek for innocent amusements—for recreations and enjoyments, of a pure and elevated character. None other can make them truly happy. All things sinful in their nature, or demoralizing in their tendency, are unmitigated evils, destructive in their consequences. However attractive they may appear to the inexperienced, in the form of amusements, yet in the end, they will "bite as a serpent, and sting as an adder."
There is no necessity that the young should resort to that which is low and vicious to find amusement. A thousand means of recreation surround them, of the most harmless character. The enjoyments of the paternal roof—the social party, where the young engage in sprightly conversation, or innocent pastimes—the friendly call—the perusal of interesting and instructive books—the scanning of the journals of the day, by which they can look out upon the shifting scene of the busy, restless world—the summer morning walk, to behold the opening beauties of the glorious day, and listen to the singing of the birds, the lowing of the flocks and herds, the murmuring of the streamlet, nature's early anthem of praise to God—or the evening ramble, to watch the flowers as they open their fragrant leaves to be bathed in sweet distilling dews—to gaze upon the golden sunset, making the fleecy clouds to blush with a crimson glow, as the king of day bids them "good night;" or to behold the stars, as one by one they come forth to their appointed stations, bestudding the whole heavens with crystal coronets.—These, O youth! and countless other fountains, are open for you, from which the sweetest and purest enjoyments can be obtained. Seek for amusement—for pleasure—in these directions, and the cup which you press to your lips shall be one of unmixed happiness!
And court the joys that hurt the soul,
Be mine that silent, calm repast,
A conscience peaceful to the last."
LECTURE V.
The Religious Sentiments.
"Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth."—Eccl. xii. 1.
here are few subjects so generally uninteresting to the youthful as Religion. The great majority prefer to have their attention called in any other direction, and to be addressed on any topic, rather than this, which, in fact, is the most important of all. There is evidently a defect somewhere in this matter, which should be corrected. Where shall we seek for it? Not in any natural, inherent aversion to the subject of religion, resting in the hearts of the young. It is neither reasonable in itself, nor respectful to the Creator, to insist he has so constituted the human soul, that it is naturally and necessarily indisposed to a topic which is most vitally connected with its happiness, and which should receive a large share of its attention.
This indifference is to be attributed chiefly, I think, to improper impressions in regard to the nature and objects of religion. The young look upon it as something gloomy, saddening, and distasteful—something that forbids enjoyment, chains in dire bondage the free, glad spirit of early life, and casts dark and cheerless shadows on the sunshine of youth's bright morning! They imagine it to stalk forth from a dark cell, arrayed in hood and cowl, to frown upon them in their innocent pastimes—to curdle their blood with severe rebukes, because of the buoyancy of their hearts and to drive them back with scowling reprimands, when they would walk in the sunny paths which God has kindly opened for their elastic footsteps. Hence they close their ears to its invitations; turn away from its instructions, as something designed to impose a heavy yoke upon them; and postpone its claims, to be attended to among the last acts of life.
That these views and feelings should widely prevail, on a subject so important as religion, is a matter of deep regret. They are erroneous and deleterious in the extreme. Let the young strive to become acquainted with the true nature of the religion of Christ, and they will learn that such are not its requirements, nor its fruits. It is not the purpose of its Divine Author to sadden the heart, or fill the mind with gloom; but to cheer and gladden the soul, and lead it to the highest and sweetest enjoyments of existence. It is not the aim of religion to deprive the young of any real enjoyment—any recreation proper to their age or their nature, as intellectual, moral, and spiritual beings. But it would assist the young to distinguish between permanent happiness, and those hurtful and wicked gratifications which corrupt the heart, and plunge the whole being into the dark pool of sin and woe. Religion is the friendly Guide sent from our Father in heaven, to lead his creatures away from peril and woe, and direct their footsteps into the most beautiful and happy paths of existence.
Her hand unerring leads;
And o'er the path her heavenly ray
A cheering lustre sheds."
What sight can present itself to the eye more pleasing than a religious youth. By this I do not mean a gloomy, downcast, sorrowful young man, or young woman, whose countenance is overcast with shadows, and whose presence chills every beholder. It is a darkened superstition, a cold, cheerless asceticism, and not the Christian religion, which gives this unnatural and forbidding appearance. A religious youth is one who is cheerful and happy—whose countenance is pervaded with an expression of benevolence, a smile of contentment—who is constant in attendance on public worship—who respects the Scriptures, and makes their daily perusal one of the fixed duties of life—who loves God, and strives faithfully to keep his commandments—who reverences the Saviour of man, and takes him as a pattern in all things—who is honest, industrious, economical, and strictly temperate. Behold the fair picture! Is it not goodly to look upon? Can earth furnish a spectacle more beautiful? Such a youth is beloved of all men. Angels, Christ, the Father, smile their approval on every one treading this high pathway
Which gilds the mountain tops,
And decks each plant and flower we view
With pearly, glittering drops;
But sweeter far the scene
On Zion's holy hill,
When there the dew of youth is seen
Its freshness to distill."
Is there a youth in the audience who does not desire to occupy a position so elevated and so honorable? Do not imagine it is beyond your reach. Every one can attain to it by proper exertion. It is not difficult of accomplishment. With pure desires, and right intentions, nothing is more feasible. In fact, so to conduct as to secure such a character, and attain to such a position, is the most easy, pleasant, and happy path in which the young can walk. All others are full of difficulty, vexation, trouble, and wretchedness. All others yield fruit the most bitter and poisonous—fruit which, however luscious and tempting it may appear to the eye, like the apples of Sodom, will turn to ashes in the hand.
If the young are looking simply for a peaceful and happy life, where prosperity will be the most likely to attend them, and where the richest and choicest blessings will be showered on their pathway, they will find it in the practice of religion. So far from being a heavy burthen, a grievous cross, it is the lightener of all burthens, the easiest of all yokes, the kindest, truest friend, to help along the rough spots, and smile and cheer in the darkest hours of man's earthly pilgrimage. Listen to the representations of religion found in the Word of God: "Wisdom is more precious than rubies; and all things thou canst desire are not to be compared to her. Length of days is in her right hand; and in her left hand riches and honor. Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are peace."[5] "Come, ye children, hearken unto me. I will teach you the fear [reverence] of the Lord. What man is he that desireth life, and loveth many days, that he may see good? Keep thy tongue from evil, and thy lips from speaking guile. Depart from evil, and do good. Seek peace and pursue it."[6] "Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful. But his delight is in the law of the Lord; and in his law doth he meditate, day and night. And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season. His leaf also shall not wither. And whatsoever he doeth shall prosper."[7] There is nothing sad and gloomy in these views; but everything pleasant and inviting.
I would disabuse the young of the idea that religion is needed only by the aged, the sick, and the dying; and that it can be of no essential service at other times. It does indeed become the hoary head, more than the jewelled diadem. It is the comforter of the sick—the supporter of the departing spirit—giving it a sustaining power which all earth's riches cannot purchase. But religion is quite as appropriate and essential to the youthful as to the aged and sick. It is equally as important that men should live right, as die right. There is no way so effectually to insure a peaceful and happy death, as to live a good and useful life. Religion leads to such a life, and prepares the way for such a death. Hence the necessity that the young should give themselves up to its influences in the morning of their days, that their meridian may be fruitful of good, and their evening sunset calm and serene.
Away, then, with the supposition, that religion is not adapted, nor necessary to youth. "The flower of youth never appears more beautiful, than when it leans towards the Sun of Righteousness." Religion is the brightest ornament with which the young can bedeck themselves. The fragrant blossom which crowns the tree, is not more beautiful, or hopeful of coming fruitfulness, than is religion to the freshness of youth. Indeed, as the blossom is necessary to insure the rich and golden fruit, so is early religion requisite to a useful and prosperous career. It is the best preparation the young can secure for after life, whatever calling they may pursue. There is no occupation, no pursuit, no profession, which they will not be far better prepared to enter, by the influence of an enlightened, cheerful, enlarged Christian faith and practice. These will interfere with no useful enterprise, no honest business, no laudable calling; nor prevent the prosecution of any of the many projects among men, which comport with the public good, and are executed on principles of integrity. Religion will make its possessors better and more successful laborers, mechanics, manufacturers, agriculturists, merchants, and more respected and useful members of any of the learned professions.
If there is any pursuit, any business, which you cannot prosecute with the sanction of religion, avoid it at once and forever. You had better do anything else than engage in it. I would have the young strongly impressed with this view. It would be far preferable to suffer poverty and obscurity, in an honest and useful calling, than to obtain the possession and fame of great riches, in a pursuit which the pure and enlightened principles of Christianity would condemn. Although you may succeed in hoarding up mountains of gold in such a pursuit, and in possessing broad domains and "the cattle on a thousand hills," yet all this will not afford you one throb of genuine enjoyment. There would be that in the manner of obtaining these possessions, which would utterly deprive them of all power to impart happiness. Wealth secured by extortion, fraud, or any practice or business of a corrupting nature, injurious to the morals, and destructive to the well-being of community, will be of no more value to him who thus obtains it, as far as his happiness is concerned, than so much dust. It is the consciousness of having obtained riches in honest and useful pursuits, that gives zest and relish to the enjoyments they procure. Without this consciousness, the man of wealth has less of pure peace and happiness than the poorest honest man in the wide world. In the very nature of things, as a wise and holy God has constituted us, this must inevitably be so. All past history and experience furnish indubitable proof of the correctness of this position. If I can impress this single truth on the hearts and memories of the youthful, I shall do them a service of a value beyond all human computation.
These considerations, I trust, will tend to convince the young of the vital importance of obtaining now, at the commencement of their career, the direction and influence of well-grounded and enlightened religious views and principles. I would have them become neither fanatics nor bigots; but would urge them to place themselves under the pure and divine light of the gospel of Christ, that they may be exalted to the highest and noblest principles of human action, and to the summit of human enjoyment.
To what sources should the young apply for correct religious doctrines and principles? While they should give due heed to the instruction and advice of the learned, the wise and good, within whose influence they may be thrown, yet they should not depend wholly upon these sources for the attainment of truth. The wisest and best among religious teachers, differ materially on fundamental points. To rely solely on the convictions of others, however exalted their talents or sincere their opinions, would be injustice to yourselves, and to the truth you would obtain. Let no man think for you. He who would persuade you to allow him to do so—who would have you distrust the convictions of your own reason, throw aside the decisions of your judgment, and allow him to judge and decide for you, in religious matters, does in fact assume to be your master, and would reduce you to a poor and pitiable spiritual bondage.
Let not the young overlook the fact, that they have been endowed by their Creator with the faculties of reason, judgment, and discrimination. These must necessarily be exercised in forming enlightened religious opinions. Those who fail to do this, fall an easy prey to every error that will but commend itself by something novel and startling. Christianity is pre-eminently, a reasonable system of doctrines. There is no topic claiming the attention of man, in the investigation of which it is so important to exercise with all deliberation, the highest capacities of reason and reflection, as religion. From the great multiplicity of opinions which prevail, those who are distrustful of their own judgment and reason, and who are more disposed to receive the ipse dixit of others, than to depend on the convictions of the good sense with which they have been endowed, will speedily become involved in a labyrinth of errors, from which it will be difficult to extricate themselves. Let the young, in all their religious investigations, hesitate not to appeal continually to the highest and noblest capacity of their nature, and give all due weight to its decisions. Freely, abundantly, your Maker has bestowed a reasoning capacity upon you. Freely, unhesitatingly, always should you appeal to its directing light.
Whoever counsel the young against the exercise of reason in regard to religion—whoever warn them to beware of its decisions on a topic so momentous—lay themselves open to a just and legitimate suspicion, of being the abettors of error. Is not this self-evident? Error is born in ignorance. It burrows in darkness, and draws all its vitality from stupid credulity. Enlightened reason strips away the false garbs by which it deceives the thoughtless, reveals its deformities, and holds up its absurdities naked and repulsive, to the gaze of the passer-by. In view of such an unwelcome office, it is natural that error should dread the eye of reason, should shrink away at its approach, and cry out mightily against its scrutiny.
Not so is it with truth. It cultivates no apprehension of reason. It courts, invites its approach, and smiles in conscious strength at its most critical investigations. Truth has everything to gain, and nothing to lose from the researches of reason. The clearer and keener the eye of the one, the more beautiful the appearance of the other. Truth and Reason are twin sisters, born of God, and despatched from heaven, to guide and bless earth's children. They are linked together inseparably. The one is never found except in the presence of the other. Their blended light is all that gives value and beauty to Christianity, and all that makes it of any more importance than the merest heathen fable. Mutually they co-operate with, and strengthen each other. All Truth is reasonable, and all the legitimate deductions of Reason are true. Truth forms the vital atmosphere which Reason inhales. Reason is the very sunlight in which Truth bathes its beauteous form.
Remember, O youth, religion does not require you to separate these heaven-born guides to men. Never expect to find religious truth, without beholding it radiant with the light of reason. Reject without hesitation, whatever is presented to you as truth, unless reason throws its divine sanction around it. In all your investigations, let Reason direct your footsteps; and, guided by revelation, it will at last, and unerringly, lead you to the glorious abode of Truth.
It is readily allowed, there are truths in Christianity which reason cannot fathom. Not because they are opposed to reason, but because they are beyond its reach. They are infinite, while man's reason is finite. But it is only by the light of reason that man can see any consistency or propriety in the assertion of such truths. Reason may sanction what it cannot fully grasp, as the boundlessness of space, or the endlessness of time. One thing may be above reason, another thing may be opposed to reason. The former it may approve—the latter it will peremptorily condemn. This is an important distinction, which should never be overlooked in its bearing on religious tenets.
In all researches for an enlightened religious faith, there are but two sources of information, on which reliance can be placed with entire confidence, viz. the Works of Nature, and the Revealed Word of God. Both are equally the productions of the Infinite Mind, and can be studied with the highest profit.
Nature's works are but an "elder Scripture," written by Jehovah's finger. In glowing suns and stars, we read its brilliant and instructive lessons. These all teach us aright of the perfections of the Sovereign Creator. They are "golden steps," on which the mind ascends to a clearer view of the great Creator. Behold the o'erarching canopy with which God has adorned our earthly abode. See how it glitters with burnished worlds, more numerous than the dust of earth. All are in motion. With a velocity which outstrips the wind, they wheel their flight around their vast orbits, with a precision which astonishes and confounds the beholder. Yonder rolls the planet Jupiter. Could I put my finger down at a certain point in its orbit, as it rushes past, it might exclaim—"Although the journey around the orbit in which I revolve, is two thousand nine hundred and sixty-six millions six hundred and sixty-one thousand miles, yet in four thousand three hundred and thirty-two days, fourteen hours, eighteen minutes, and forty-one seconds, I will pass this point again!!" And away it flies to fulfil the grand prophecy. I watch with intense interest for more than eleven years. At length they have expired. The days also run by—the hours pass—the minutes. And as the clock ticks the forty-first second, lo! old Jupiter wheels past the given point, without the variation of the thousandth part of a moment. Thus it has been journeying from the morning of creation. Thus perfectly revolve all the heavenly bodies.
Deep felt, in these appear! A single train,
Yet so delightful mixed, with such kind art,
Such beauty and beneficence combin'd;
Shade, unperceived, so softening into shade;
And all so forming an harmonious whole;
That as they still succeed, they ravish still."
In the magnitude of the heavenly bodies, and the precision of their movements, we behold the most glorious and convincing evidences of the omnipotence of God's power, and the perfection of His wisdom and skill. In the splendor of the starry dome of night—in the thousand attractions of our earthly abode—the loveliness of its summer landscapes—the beauty of its flowers, and the balmy fragrance they distil upon the air—in the warmth of the precious sunlight, which floods hill, valley, field, forest, and ocean—in the refreshing influences of the evening dew, and "the early and latter rains"—in the grateful breeze which bears life and health to our nostrils—in the rich productions of the ever-bountiful soil—in these, in all nature's wide departments, we read, with rejoicing eyes, the witnesses of the impartial goodness and boundless beneficence of the Father of spirits!
Of the great miracle that still goes on,
In silence, round me—the perpetual work
Of thy creation, finished, yet renewed
Forever. Written on thy works I read
The lesson of thy Eternity."
Nature furnishes a thousand evidences of man's immortality—that greatest of all truths asserted by revelation, and sustained by religion. We see a corroboration of this momentous fact, in the transformation of the loathsome caterpillar into the beautiful butterfly, by the process of an actual death—in the dying and reviving of the vegetable kingdom—in the luxuriant plant and golden harvest, springing from the dead body of the seed—in the numerous forms and processes in which life springs from death all around us.
A voice within us speaks the startling word,
'Man, thou shalt never die!' Celestial voices
Hymn it round our souls; according harps,
By angel lingers touched when the mild stars
Of morning sang together, sounds forth still
The song of our great immortality;
Thick-clustering orbs, and this our fair domain,
The tall, dark mountains, and the deep-toned seas,
Join in the solemn, universal song.
O, listen, ye, our spirits; drink it in
From all the air! 'Tis in the gentle moonlight:
Is floating in day's setting glories; Night,
Wrapped in her sable robe, with silent step
Comes to our bed and breathes it in our ears.
Night and the dawn, bright day and thoughtful eve,
All times, all bounds, the limitless expanse,
As one great mystic instrument, are touched
By an unseen, living Hand, and conscious chords
Quiver with joy in this great jubilee.
The dying hear it; and as sounds of earth
Grow dull and distant, wake their passing souls
To mingle in this passing melody."[8]
Still more valuable resources for the attainment of religious truths are found in the holy Scriptures—the revealed word of the Most High. In forming their religious opinions, let the young fail not to make these sacred pages their constant study. Nor should they dream they will find there any contradiction to the lessons read on the broad pages of Nature's book. These are but different methods in which the same God reveals himself to his creatures. He will not contradict himself. His revealed word as plainly asserts his power, wisdom, and goodness, as his works shadow forth these glorious perfections. While the Scriptures do not contradict the voice uttered by nature, they lead us to higher departments of religion, and to clearer revelations of God and his character. They represent him as a Father, exercising a parental government over man—a government characterized by benevolence, justice, mercy, and truth, and administered for the promotion of his own glory, and the highest good of those called to obey. The Scriptures, moreover, bring to our knowledge the Son of God and his gospel—presenting us in the life of Jesus Christ, a beautiful example of truth, purity, righteousness, and love, and imparting, in his teachings, the most perfect rules of human conduct, and the brightest anticipations of life and immortality beyond the grave.
In perusing the Scriptures, let reason be your guide. Reason should not be elevated above the Scriptures; yet they cannot be understood without its aid. The Creator, in the Bible, addresses himself directly to man's reason: "Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord."[9] Without the exercise of reason in reading the Bible, it will be as a sealed book. How else can man comprehend its truths, and be instructed by its rich lessons of wisdom? In the exercise of this highest capacity bestowed upon us, the word of God will appear harmonious in all its parts—beautiful and sublime in all its truths—instructive in all its lessons—inspiring the brightest, broadest hopes the mind can conceive. But lay reason aside, in its perusal, and it will be involved in inextricable confusion, and impenetrable darkness.
The young should not lose sight of the fact, that we have the Bible only in the form of a translation by uninspired men, from the original Hebrew and Greek, in which it was penned by the inspired writers. Hence it should not seem surprising that there are some inaccuracies connected with this translation; nor that certain words, allusion, and forms of speech, appear obscure and unintelligible. There is a plain and simple rule by which all obscure and disputed words and passages should be understood. Give them such construction as will most perfectly correspond with the attributes and character of God, as revealed in his word and works, his omnipotence and omniscience, his wisdom and goodness, his justice and mercy—and as will best accord with the grace and love which moved the Saviour in his divine mission to the earth.
For the following excellent suggestions in regard to the study of the Scriptures, I am indebted to a popular writer of the present day.
"On the Sabbath the Bible should be studied. Every person, old or young, ignorant or learned, should devote a portion of time every Sabbath to the study of the Scriptures, in the more strict and proper sense of that term. But to show precisely what I mean by this weekly study of the Bible, I will describe a particular case. A young man with only such opportunities as are possessed by all, resolves to take this course. He selects the Epistle to the Ephesians for his first subject; he obtains such books and helps as he finds in his own family, or as he can obtain from a religious friend, or procure from a Sabbath-school library. It is not too much to suppose that he will have a sacred Atlas, some Commentary, and probably a Bible Dictionary. He should also have pen, ink, and paper; and thus provided, he sits down Sabbath morning to his work. He raises a short but heartfelt prayer to God that he will assist and bless him, and then commences his inquiries.
"The Epistle to the Ephesians I have supposed to be his subject. He sees that the first question evidently is, 'Who were the Ephesians?' He finds the city of Ephesus upon the map; and from the preface to the Epistle contained in the commentary, or from any other source to which he can have access, he learns what sort of a city it was—what was the character of the inhabitants, and if possible, what condition the city was in at the time this letter was written. He next inquires in regard to the writer of this letter or Epistle, as it is called. It was Paul; and what did Paul know of the Ephesians? had he ever been there? or was he writing to strangers? To settle these points, so evidently important to a correct understanding of the letter, he examines the Acts of the Apostles, (in which an account of St. Paul's labors is contained,) to learn whether Paul went there, and if so, what happened while he was there. He finds that many interesting incidents occurred during Paul's visits, and his curiosity is excited to know whether these things will be alluded to in the letter; he also endeavors to ascertain where Paul was when he wrote the letter. After having thus determined everything relating to the circumstances of the case, he is prepared to come to the Epistle itself, and enter with spirit and interest into an examination of its contents.
"He first glances his eye cursorily through the chapters of the book, that he may take in at once a general view of its object and design—perhaps he makes out a brief list of the topics discussed, and thus has a distinct general idea of the whole before he enters into a minute examination of the parts. This minute examination he comes to at last—though perhaps the time devoted to the study for two or three Sabbaths is spent in the preparatory inquiries. If it is so, it is time well spent; for by it he is now prepared to enter with interest into the very soul and spirit of the letter. While he was ignorant of these points, his knowledge of the Epistle itself must have been very vague and superficial. Suppose I were now to introduce into this book a letter, and should begin at once, without saying by whom the letter was written, or to whom it was addressed. It would be preposterous. If I wished to excite your interest, I should describe particularly the parties, and the circumstances which produced the letter originally. And yet how many Christians there are, who could not tell whether Paul's letter to the Ephesians was written before or after he went there, or where Titus was when Paul wrote to him, or for what special purpose he wrote!
"This method of studying the Scriptures, which I have thus attempted to describe, and which I might illustrate by supposing many other cases, is not intended for one class alone; not for the ignorant peculiarly, nor for the wise; not for the rich, nor for the poor; but for all. The solitary widow, in her lonely cottage among the distant mountains, with nothing but her simple Bible in her hand, by the light of her evening fire, may pursue this course of comparing Scripture with Scripture, and entering into the spirit of sacred story, throwing herself back to ancient times, and thus preparing herself to grasp more completely, and to feel more vividly the moral lessons which the Bible is mainly intended to teach. And the most cultivated scholar may pursue this course in his quiet study, surrounded by all the helps to a thorough knowledge of the Scriptures which learning can produce or wealth obtain.
"I hope the specimens I have given are sufficient to convey to my readers the general idea I have in view, when I speak of studying the Bible, in contradistinction from the mere cursory reading of it, which is so common among Christians.
"Select some subject upon which a good deal of information may be found in various parts of the Bible, and make it your object to bring together into one view all that the Bible says upon that subject. Take for instance the life of the Apostle Peter. Suppose you make it your business on one Sabbath, with the help of a brother, or sister, or any other friend who will unite with you in the work, to obtain all the information which the Bible gives in regard to him. By the help of the Concordance you find all the places in which he is mentioned—you compare the various accounts in the Four Gospels; see in what they agree and in what they differ. After following down his history as far as the Evangelists bring it, you take up the book of the Acts, and go through that for information in regard to this Apostle, omitting those parts which relate to other subjects. In this way you become fully acquainted with his character and history; you understand it as a whole.
"Jerusalem is another good subject, and the examination would afford scope for the exercise of the faculties of the highest minds for many Sabbaths: find when the city is first named, and from the manner in which it is mentioned, and the circumstances connected with the earliest accounts of it, ascertain what sort of a city it was at that time. Then follow its history down; notice the changes as they occur; understand every revolution, examine the circumstances of every battle and siege of which it is the scene, and thus become acquainted with its whole story down to the time when the sacred narration leaves it. To do this well, will require patient and careful investigation. You cannot do it as you can read a chapter, carelessly and with an unconcerned and uninterested mind; you must, if you would succeed in such an investigation, engage in it in earnest. And that is the very advantage of such a method of study; it breaks up effectually that habit of listless, dull, inattentive reading of the Bible which so extensively prevails.
"You may take the subject of the Sabbath; examine the circumstances of its first appointment, and then follow its history down, so far as it is given in the Bible, to the last Sabbath alluded to on the sacred pages.
"The variety of topics which might profitably be studied in this way is vastly greater than would at first be supposed. There are a great number of biographical and geographical topics—a great number which relate to manners, and customs, and sacred instructions. In fact, the whole Bible may be analyzed in this way; and its various contents brought before the mind in new aspects, and with a freshness and vividness which, in the mere repeated reading of the Scriptures in regular course, can never be seen."[10]