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 "pT-S/axcK^^V \-^a\Wa^ 
 
 John Angell, 1785- 
 
 :e young man s friend and 
 
 .,^/:^. --hrni-ah life to 
 
COII^TENTS. 
 
 rAos. 
 
 The Young Man Preparing for Life, . . .9 
 
 The Young Man Entering on Life, ... 35 
 
 The Young Man Undecided in his Religious Character, . 60 
 
 The Young Man Possessing a Defective Amiability, , 95 
 
 The Young Man Perplexed by Religious Controversy, . 124 
 
 The Young Man Recommended to Contemplate the Character 
 
 of Joseph, . . • . .158 
 
 The Young Man Advised to Study the Book of Proverbs, . .186 
 
 The Young Man Succeeding or Failing in Business, 215 
 
 The Young Man Emigrating to a Foreign Land, . . 243 
 
 The Young JVl^n Disappointing or Realising the Hopes of Parents, 27Q 
 
 The Young Man Impressed with the Importance of the Age ""01 
 
 The Young Man Dying Early, or Living to Review Life in Old 
 
 Age, . . . . . 330 
 
^>M \ 
 
 ^j^ ^^bM>^ 
 
 THE 
 
 YOUIfG MAN'S FRIEND 
 
 €ttik tljruitgl fife to |mmoi1iilitT[. 
 
 JOHN ASGELL JAMES, 
 
 »THOR or THE *'T0UNG WOMAN'S FRIEND," " ANXIOUS ENOUIRER," " C0O«81 
 
 OF FAITH," "christian DUTY," "CHRISTIAN PROFESSOR,'* 
 
 " CHRISTIAN FATHER'S PRESENT," ETC. 
 
 WITH AN INTRODUCTION 
 
 BY THOMAS DE WITT, D.D. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 ROBERT CARTER Sz, BROTHERS. 
 
 No. 5 30 BROADWAY. 
 
 1857. 
 
INTKODUCTION. 
 
 The name of John Angell James is extensively and 
 most favorably known to the Christian community, 
 by his successful labors in the ministry of the Gospel, 
 and his various writings of great practical excellence, 
 which have been very widely circulated, and have 
 proved eminently useful. Perhaps there are few 
 living more embalmed in the respect and grateful 
 affection of the various sections of the Christian 
 Church. With his advancing years he is still " bring- 
 ing forth fruit" by his active labors, and recurring 
 publications from the press peculiarly adapted to do 
 good. His works have been largely spread in Great 
 Britain and America, and a number of them have 
 been translated into several languages. The titles of 
 the prominent ones at once recur to the memory, as 
 " The Christian Father'^s Present to his Children^^ 
 
IV INTRODUCTION. 
 
 " Family Monitor^'' " Christian Chafity^'' " The 
 Anxious Enquirer ^"^ " An Earnest Ministry^'' " The 
 Church in Earnest^'' " The Widoio Directed to th^ 
 Widow's God^^ " Pastoral Addresses^' " The Young 
 Man from Home^" " The Christian Professor^'' &c. 
 Several of these may be numbered among oui 
 Christian classics in their admirable adaptation to 
 the ends they have in view, rendering their general 
 diffusion desirable, while it would be hardly practica- 
 ble to supply the place they occupy by any from other 
 sources. 
 
 There is in all of the works of Mr. James a trans- 
 parent clearness of statement and discussion, a flow- 
 ing ease of style, a felicity of illustration, an earnest- 
 ness of spirit, and a pungency of appeal, combined 
 with the soundness of evangelical sentiment, im- 
 bedded in deep experience and holy practice. These 
 have imparted a charm and influence to them which 
 have made them a blessing amid the Churches. 
 This volume is the last one published by the esteemed 
 author, and comprises the matter of a series of dis- 
 courses preached by him from his own pulpit. It 
 was issued from the British press in the latter part of 
 the past year. On perusing it I was strongly im- 
 pressed with its value as beyond any that I could re- 
 collect to attract the attention, and elicit the interest 
 
INIRODUCTION. 
 
 of the young men into whose hands it might fall, and 
 prove profitable to them in reference to their best in- 
 terests for time and eternity. Two of Mr. James's 
 former publications had particular respect to the 
 young, but he has here struck out a path with a 
 wider range, bringing in the various circumstances 
 and positions of life in connection with the formation 
 of character and guidance through life. While the 
 texture of the whole volume is interwoven with the 
 delineation of true religion as the grand spring and 
 safe-guard of happiness, and holiness, and the salva- 
 tion of the soul, the great interest of time in prepara- 
 tion for eternity, it is filled with the counsels and 
 lessons of wisdom for the practical conduct of life. 
 The titles of several of the chapters will arrest atten- 
 tion, as " The Character of Josejph^'' " The Study of 
 the Booh of Proverhs^'^ " Failing in Business^'* 
 " The Young Man Imjpressed with the Imjportance 
 of the Age in which he Lives^'' &c. As a whole it 
 appears to me specially fitted for usefulness as to its 
 object in view, the temporal and spiritual benefit of 
 young men. Exposed as they are to a thousand snares 
 in the morning of life, when the character is to be 
 moulded and formed, how valuable would this volume 
 prove in their hands, as a vade mecum^ and referred 
 to as a monitor and guide. It has been received 
 
▼i INTRODUCTION. 
 
 witli mucli acceptance by the religious public of Great 
 Britain, and is very favorably noticed in the I'eligious 
 periodicals. I rejoice at its republication here, and 
 hope it will meet with ample patronage. It is under- 
 stood that Mr. James has now in preparation a simi 
 lar volume addressed to " Young Women." I trust 
 the success of the volume now published will urge 
 Mr. Randolph to republish the proposed one as soon 
 as it issues from the British press. 
 
 THOMAS DE WITT. 
 Nkw-Yoek May 1, 1852 
 
PEEFACE. 
 
 I INSCRIBE this volume to every young man who by tha 
 prompting of his own mind, or by the pei-suasion of others, 
 shall be induced to peruse it. To every such youth, I say, 
 with all seriousness and eai-nestness, ponder well its title. — 
 " The Young MarCs Friend and Guide through Life to Im- 
 mortality r Do you desire a Mend ? I offer myself : and I 
 believe you will find me to be such in these pages. Do you 
 need a guide through life, with all its duties, temptations, 
 and perplexities ? I am willing to perform for you this 
 service : and I dare pledge the truth, power, and love of God, 
 that if, by his grace sought by faith in Christ and fervent 
 prayer, you follow the directions here laid down, you will rise 
 to respectability, usefulness, and comfort, in this world, and to 
 everlasting happiness in the next. 
 
 Eternal and Almighty God — thou source of light, love, and 
 
 purity, who didst send forth thy seraphim with a coal from off 
 
 thine altar, to purify the prophet's lips ; and thine Holy Spirit 
 
 like cloven tongues of flame upon the heads of apostles ; and 
 
 who art still willing to grant wisdom to all that seek it through 
 1* 
 
Vlll PREFACE. 
 
 the meditation of our Lord Jesus Christ, send down thy bless- 
 ing upon the youth of our age and nation ; and grant in thy 
 great mercy that many of them may by this volume be guided 
 in safety through the dangers of this sinful world ; and led, by 
 patient continuance in well-doing, to glory, honor, and immor- 
 tality in the world to come. Amen. 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 
 
 " Let thine eyes look right on, and let thine eye-lids look straight 
 before thee. Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be 
 established."— Proverbs iv. 25, 26. 
 
 You cannot be ignorant, Young Men, that I have felt a 
 great solicitude for your moral and spiritual welfare, and 
 have taken some pains to promote it. I say, your moral and 
 spiritual welfare, for in an age like the present, when educa- 
 tion is so much improved, and so widely extended ;_when the 
 discoveries of science, and the inventions of art, have been so 
 rapidly multiplied, and the means of kno\^ing them have 
 been placed so entirely within the reach of the multitude ; 
 there is a danger lest that which is moral and spiritual 
 should be neglected amidst the attention to that which ia 
 merely intellectual — lest talents should be appreciated more 
 highly than virtues — and general knowledge be more eagerly 
 sought than that which is religious. Yet it must be obvious 
 to you upon reflection, that happiness, even for this world, 
 to say nothing of the next, depends much more upon the 
 state of the heart and the practice of the life, than upon the 
 exclusive culture of the understanding. Not that they are 
 antaoronistic to one another. None but infidels or weak 
 
10 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 minded Christians will ever attempt to set piety and science 
 at variance. They are neither enemies nor aliens, but 
 friends ; and are reciprocally helpful to each other. 
 
 Under the influence of this anxiety to promote your moral 
 and spiritual well-being, I have, in the course of my minis 
 try, addressed to you several courses of plain and practical 
 discourses. I have been rewarded for this " labor of love," 
 by the attention with which they have been received, and 
 the benefit which I believe they have imparted, and am 
 thus induced to continue the practice, and invite your 
 serious and meditative attention to the following course of 
 subjects. 
 
 I. " The Young Man preparing for Life." 
 
 II. *' The Young Man entering on Life." 
 
 in. " The Young Man undecided in his Religious Cha- 
 racter." 
 
 lY. '' The Young Man possessing a Defective Amiability." 
 
 V. " The Young Man perplexed by Religious Contro 
 versy." 
 
 VL " The Young Man recommended to contemplate the 
 Character of Joseph." 
 
 VII. '' The Young Man advised to study the Book of 
 Proverbs." 
 
 VIII. " The Young Man succeeding or failing in busi- 
 ness." 
 
 IX. " The Young Man emigrating to a Foreign Land." 
 
 X. '' The Young Man disappointing or realizing the 
 Hopes of Parents." 
 
 XL " The Young Man impressed with the Importance of 
 the Age." 
 
 XII. *' The Young Man dying early, or living to review 
 Life in Old Age." 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 1] 
 
 You will perceive at once that these subjects are all of an 
 entirely practical character. Speculation and controversy 
 are with one exception both excluded ; and even doctrinal 
 matter is but sparingly introduced. Not that these things 
 are unimportant or unnecessary in proper place, but they do 
 not come within the comprehension of my design. I am a 
 practical man, and am most at home on practical subjects ; 
 and at the same time, that I believe holiness is founded upon 
 truth, and that Christian duties are drawn from Christian 
 doctrines, and are to be enforced by them, I am still of 
 opinion, that what is practical will be more for your edifica- 
 tion than what is theoretical or controversial. Speculation, 
 novelty, and dry criticism, or thorny controversy, will, per- 
 haps, have a less beneficial influence upon your future 
 character and happiness, than the subjects contained in this 
 course. 
 
 My first sermon is on Preparation for Life. We often 
 preach on preparation for death ; and most momentous, most 
 necessary that is — but we too much neglect to preach on 
 preparation for life. And yet how incumbent is such a 
 subject, both for our discussion and your serious considera- 
 tion. 
 
 The passage of Scripture placed at the head of this dis- 
 course is much in point. It is selected from a portion of 
 Scripture which is of incalculable value, and which proves 
 that the Bible is a book not only to make men wise unto 
 salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus, but to serve 
 as an admirable guide to them in their passage through this 
 life, and in reference to the temporalities of their condition : 
 a book not only to form the saint and the devotee, but the 
 tradesman, the parent, and the member of domestic and 
 
12 THE YOUNG MAN'S FRIEND. 
 
 social life. To this I shall call your attention on a futuri 
 occasion, and devote a discourse to the consideration of it. 
 
 In the passage I have selected, you will at once perceive 
 that a habit of consideration and forethought is inculcated. 
 We must not only consider the past by looking hack^ nor the 
 present by looking round ^ but the future by looking on. All 
 these are important — we must look back to consider what we 
 have done that we should not have done ; what we have not 
 not done that we should have done ; and what we have 
 done well, that we might have done better ; that thus from 
 the past, we may draw lessons for the future. It is true 
 that in your case so short a space of life has yet been passed 
 over, as to afford comparatively few materials for reflection, 
 and little aid for your future guidance. But even youth has 
 something to look back upon, and the practice of retrospec- 
 tion cannot be adopted too early. It is well to begin life 
 with the formation of a habit of self-scrutiny and self- 
 accountability. 
 
 We must also consider well the present, because there is 
 always some duty now to be done, the doing of which is our 
 immediate business, which no reflection on the past, and no 
 anticipation of the future, should lead us to neglect. Still, 
 however, we must let our " eyes look on, and our eyelids 
 look straight before us." We have not only memory, but a 
 certain measure of prescience. True, we cannot look into 
 futurity, so as to ascertain particular events, but we can an- 
 ticipate general conditions ; and it is a mark of a well- 
 governed mind to anticipate as far as possible the future. 
 We should consider what in all probability is to happen tc 
 us, and prepare for it. Young people are not unapt to look 
 forward, but it is rather in a sentimental and romantic, than 
 in a practical manner, and as an exercise of the imagination 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 13 
 
 rather than of the judgment. Be thoughtful, then, and let 
 your thoughtfulness have respect to the future. " Let your 
 eyelids look straight on ; and ponder the ways of your feet." 
 
 There is a world of practical wisdom in some single 
 terms ; among them is that momentous term, Prepare. 
 How many evils, in some cases, would have been avoided, 
 had men prepared to meet them. How many benefits would 
 have been secured, had men prepared to appropriate them. 
 How much that they have done would have been better done 
 if they had prepared to do it. How often, already, have 
 you had regretfully to say, " I wish I had prepared for this." 
 "Well, then, let this impress you, and guide you for the 
 future. Let your own limited experience in the little things 
 which have yet happened, be for a warning to prepare you 
 for the greater ones which will happen. I know very well 
 that the opposite evil of always preparing and never acting, 
 which is the case with some, is also to be avoided. There 
 are some who are ever getting ready to act, but when the 
 moment for acting arrives, are so irresolute, so timid, so 
 procrastinating, that they let go the time for duty. But this 
 is by much the rarer case of the two. This discourse, then, 
 meets you about to enter on life, and it gives out to you the 
 momentous note of preparation. 
 
 Preparation is often half the doing ; and the easier part 
 too. Preparation for life ! How impressive an idea ! Not 
 for one particular act, or scene, or engagement, but for the 
 whole of future existence. Life ! How much is included in 
 that weighty term. A love of life is an instinct of our na- 
 ture, wisely implanted in us for important purposes by the 
 Great Author of our existence. It was the lano-uao;e of 
 truth, though uttered by the Father of Lies, '^ Skin for skin, 
 yea, all that a man hath will he give for his life." Surely, 
 
14 THE YOJNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 then, if it be incumbent upon us to prepare for everything 
 else, it must be of incalculable moment to prepare for life 
 since it is the most valuable thing we can covet or possess. 
 
 But it will be asked, perhaps, what is meant by preparing 
 for life ? By this then, I intend, a preparation to act wel* 
 our part upon earth, so as to secure to ourselves the greatest 
 measure of happiness and usefulness in this world, and eter- 
 nal happiness in the world to come. Preparing to live suc- 
 cessfully, religiously, usefully, and happily — to secure to 
 ourselves the promise of Grod to Abraham, " I will bless 
 thee, and thou shalt be a blessing." 
 
 The injunction to prepare for life implies that whatever 
 constitutes the felicity and usefulness of life must be matter 
 of choice, pursuit, and labor ; that it will not come sponta- 
 neously. This is very true. The continuance of even ex- 
 istence itself, is not independent of man's own volition, ac- 
 tion, and preparation. We do not live in spite of ourselves, 
 or without ourselves — the vital spark at first communicated 
 to us without our own acting, is still fed and sustained hy 
 our own action. We take food and medicine, and wear 
 clothes, and dwell in habitations, to preserve life ; and we 
 must manifest no less solicitude, and put forth no less effort, 
 to secure the blessings of life. It depends very much upon 
 every man's own choice and labor, how life is to turn out. 
 
 To spend life in happiness and usefulness, we must pre- 
 pare in the early stages of it, for what is future. There is 
 no truth in the Platonic notion of the pre-existence of 
 human souls. We cannot in another and an antecedent 
 state, anticipate our existence on earth, go through a train- 
 ing in some previous world, and thus learn how to act our 
 part here. Such an advantage, if it would be an advantage, 
 is denied us We can have no previous training of this 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 15 
 
 kind, but must come into life, and learn as we go on. We 
 must, by though tfulness, and observation, and experience, 
 pick up knowledge by the way. This wonderfully increases 
 the peril of our situation, and the necessity of our cultivat- 
 ing and exercising a reflective and cautious habit. Still, 
 though we cannot in some previous state of existence anti- 
 cipate our dwelling and conduct upon earth, we may be 
 trained for the subsequent stages of our being, by the con- 
 duct pursued in the earlier ones. We cannot first live to 
 know how to live, but we can be educated in the first part 
 of life for what is future. Boyhood and youth are life, phy- 
 sically considered, as well as manhood and old age ; but in- 
 tellectually, morally, and socially considered, they are rather 
 introductory to life, than life itself. I am, therefore, in this 
 view of the subject, to consider the preparatory processes 
 for future life. Now by these T mean : — 
 
 First of all — Education. I am aware that most of 
 those whom I now address, will have passed through this 
 already. Yet this is not the case with all, and the subject 
 is so important that I must say a few things upon it. Edu- 
 cation includes on the part of those by whom it is con- 
 ducted, not only instruction, but the right application of 
 knowledge to practical purposes ; in other words, the forma- 
 tion of character. This is beautifully expressed in the pro- 
 verb : " Train up a child in the way he should ^p." Not 
 merely in what he should k^iow., but in the way he should go. 
 This should ever be remembered by the pupil as well as the 
 teacher. His mind is of course to be stored with know- 
 ledge, but then his judgment, heart, will, and conscience, 
 must be trained to act morally right. The term of school 
 education is of immense consequence to future life, and 
 should, and does, lead all considerate parents most anxiously 
 
THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 to look out for suitable persons with wliom to entrust tba 
 education of their children, when thej are no longer able to 
 educate them themselves at home. But, however, judicious 
 the selection of a teacher may be, all young persons should 
 recollect that every one must, to a certain extent, be self^ 
 educated. It remalas with themselves to determine whether 
 the pains bestowed upon them shall be successful or fruit- 
 less. It is not in the power of man or woman, or all men 
 and women combined, to educate a young person if he will 
 not be educated, or if he does not determine to be well- 
 trained. The intellect is not a cup or a bottle into which 
 knowledge can be poured, whether the mind will receive it 
 or not ; nor is the heart a piece of passive clay, which may 
 be shaped at will by the teacher, irrespective of the will of 
 the pupil. No. It depends on yourselves whether you 
 will be educated. And all your future life, for time and 
 eternity, depends upon your education. " The child is 
 father of the man," and education forms the child. What 
 you are when you leave school, that you may be expected to 
 be through all future existence. Would that I could im- 
 press this upon all young persons ; would that I could lead 
 them to look forward, especially the older pupils, and con- 
 sider themselves as entering upon life, and passing through 
 it, and then ask with what measure of knowledge, and with 
 what form of character, they would fill up their place in the 
 great community. 
 
 Secondly. — Self-education must not stopj hut he con- 
 sidered as having only just hegun when you leave school. 
 You must still carry on your improvement by a thirst after 
 knowledge, a studious habit, and a love of reading, thinking, 
 and acc^uiring. Books must be your companions, and if 
 they are good and useful ones, they will be your most profit- 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 17 
 
 able associates. In this wonderful age, waen knowledge is 
 eo rapidly and extensively widening its boundaries — when 
 science and the arts are ever astonishing us with new dis- 
 coveries, inventions, triumphs, and wonders — when they are 
 incorporating themselves with all the practical business of 
 life — when to be ignorant is not only disgraceful to a man's 
 intellectual reputation, but injurious to his temporal interests 
 — when to have any weight in society, he must know ten 
 times as much as his grandfather knew before bim, — and 
 when such facilities are afforded for mental improvement no 
 young man can be considered as preparing well for life who 
 neglects the cultivation of his intellect. It is a love of 
 knowledge, young men, not a love of pleasure, that will pre- 
 pare you to act well your part in life. Understand and re- 
 member this. 
 
 But Thirdi-y. — The acquisition of a knowledge of some 
 secular callings is another and an important part of the 
 preparatory processes of life. Most of those whom I now 
 address, are intended for business, either in the way of 
 manufacture, trade, or one of the professions, and are already 
 for that purpose apprenticed, articled, or hired to some one 
 who is to teach them their business — to some one who ought 
 to feel himself bound by every principle of honor, justice, 
 and religion, to teach them all they are sent to him to learn. 
 And if the child be the father of the man, so it is equally 
 true that the apprentice is the father of the master. What 
 you are now as to industry, application, and ability, in your 
 term of service and secular education, that you will be in all 
 probability as the future master. Subordination is essentially 
 necessary. We learn to command by first learning to obey. 
 t is of immense consequence to remember this ; a refractory^ 
 Turbulent, disobedient apprentice or servant, will mc-st pro- 
 
18 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 bably make a capricious, tyrannical, and ill-judging master. 
 The apprentice wbom his master cannot govern, will be the 
 master who cannot govern his apprentice. This is not sim 
 ply one of the retributions of Providence, but one of the 
 natural results of the course of things. The great principle 
 which has given to Jesuitism such prodigious power in past 
 ages, is unhesitating and unlimited obedience to a superior. 
 Heroes have usually been trained in the school of obedience 
 and discipline. So our most thriving tradesmen, especially 
 the men that have risen to a high situation, have first served 
 well in a low one. But when I recommend submission and 
 obedience, I mean that which springs from principle^ and not 
 merely from compulsion and fear. In this, as well as in 
 everything else, you should do that which is right to be done, 
 because it is right. Call in your judgment, your conscience, 
 your sense of propriety. It is just, good, best, to obey the 
 authority of a master. The principle of fear, the mere 
 sense of compulsion, will be a bad training. T-he slaves of 
 tyrants, who obey only from dread of punishment, often 
 upon their emancipation make greater tyrants than their 
 own former ones. A character cast in the mould of fear 
 must be a misshapen one. As to capability of application, 
 dispatch, sagacity, quickness, perseverance in the situation 
 of a master, you must get all these while learning your busi- 
 ness as an apprentice. If not learnt then, they never will 
 be. An idle apprentice will make an idle master — a plea- 
 sure-loving youth a pleasure-loving man. On the other 
 hand, a quick, sharp, clever boy, will make a quick, sharp, 
 clever tradesman. Tell me what the apprentice is, and 1 
 will tell you what the master will be. Be diligent, be sub- 
 missive, be honest, be attentive to business. Determine, by 
 God's blessing, to excel. Aim to be eminent. Do not be 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 19 
 
 contented with dull mediocrity. Have a little ambition tc 
 stand well and to rise high. A clever, industrious, success- 
 ful, religious tradesmen, is an ornament to his town and his 
 country. Future life is before you, prepare for it thus. 
 
 But Fourthly. — I should be defective indeed, if, in 
 speaking of the preparatory processes of life, I left out the 
 formation of the moral and religious character. I have 
 already reminded you how much the happiness and useful- 
 ness of life depend, even in this world, upon the formation 
 of character generally viewed — I now speak of the religious 
 character. Genuine religion, the parent of sound morality — 
 and no religion is genuine that does not produce morality — 
 is the surest guide to success in this world ; other things be- 
 ing equal, he will be almost certain to be the most success- 
 ful tradesman, who is the most consistent Christian. And as 
 religion is the best guide to happiness in this world, it is the 
 only way to happiness in the world to come. It has been a 
 thousand times told you, on the authority of Holy Writ, that 
 ^' godliness is profitable for all things, having the promise of 
 the life that now is,^^ — mark that — as well as of " that 
 which is to come." Who will contradict it ? Religion will 
 preserve you from all the habits that tend to poverty and 
 misery, and put you in possession of all that tend to wealth 
 and happiness. Have you ever studied, for I would not so 
 reflect upon you as to suppose you have never read, Solo- 
 mon's exquisite allegory, in which he so beautifully describes 
 the nature and consequences of true religion ? *' Happy is 
 tk& man that fiTideth wisdom., and the man that getteth under- 
 standing. For the merchandise of it is better than the mer- 
 chandii^e of silver., and the gain thereof than fine gold. Shi 
 is more precious than rubies ; and all the things tho>^ 
 canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of 
 
20 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 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. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold 
 upon her ; and happy is every one that retaineth her.'''* Proy. 
 iii., 13 — 18. Now the wisdom here so exquisitely described, 
 and so forcibly recommended, is true religion. Who will 
 rise up to say that religion ruined them } Ah ! but how 
 many millions could rise up, some on earth, and some from 
 hell, to say they were ruined for want of it } 
 
 If the formation of character is one of the preparatory 
 processes of life, then you should not have your character to 
 establish, your principles of action to choose, when you 
 want them to use. Your rule should be laid down, your 
 standard fixed, your purpose formed, when you begin to act. 
 You are about to set sail on the perilous ocean of life, not as 
 a passenger merely, but as a captain and owner of the ves- 
 sel ; and should you not have learnt navigation, and have 
 prepared a chart and a compass, and some practical skill 
 how to use both .? There are rocks and shoals to be 
 avoided, and storms and contrary winds to be encountered, 
 at your going out of port. Without fixed religious princi- 
 ples, and established moral character, you may be wrecked 
 in going out of harbor. It is of infinite consequence 
 that the fear of God — a hatred of sin — an apprehension of 
 judgment to come — should be in you before you embark. 
 Remember, therefore, your Creator in the days of your 
 youth. Set the Lord always before you. Be rooted and 
 grounded in the love of Christ. Be a young disciple, and 
 then you are ready for everything. Religion will be your 
 guide in perplexity — your shield in danger — ^your companion 
 in solitude — ^jour comfort in sorrow — your defence against 
 
PREPARATIOX FOR LIFE. 21 
 
 temptation — and if it be genuine, earnest, and consistent, 
 will not fail to make you holy, happy, and useful. 
 
 Fifthly. — There is another thing I would most earnestly 
 enforce upon you as a preparation for life, and that is a deep 
 impression of the imjportance of hahit^ and the necessity of 
 forming good habits while young. Among the words of our 
 vocabulary which you should select, as having a greater im- 
 portance than others, and as deserving to be more intently 
 pondered upon, is Habit. Dwell upon it ; it is a golden 
 term of incalculable value. It means the facility of doing a 
 thing well, acquired by having done it frequently, together 
 with a certain impulse or inclination to do it. It differs 
 from instinct, not so much in its nature, as its origin — habit 
 being acquired, and instinct natural. I shall not trouble 
 you with a discussion upon the philosophical theory of nabit, 
 but only advert to its importance.^ Consider, then, of what 
 moment it is to do what is right by habit, and thus to have 
 everything good and proper to be done made easy ; and 
 not to have all the disinclination, difficulty, and awkwardness 
 of doing a right thing, to encounter every time the action is 
 to be done ; but to go to it with the impulse and ease of 
 habit : to be good not only from principle, but from habit. 
 On the other hand, how dreadful is it to be carried forward 
 in the way of evil, by the double force of inclination and 
 habit. Now, childhood and youth are the time for forming 
 habits. We see this in the mechanical arts, and it is so in 
 all the mental and moral processes. Industry and self- 
 denial ; forethought and caution ; religion and virtue ; will 
 all be comparatively easy to the man who has acquired the 
 habit in early life. Through God's grace, the most difficult 
 duty, the most rare virtue, may thus become easy. 
 
 And now let me urge this preparation for future life 
 
22 THE YOUNG MAN S FKIEXD. 
 
 upon you. Recollect then what it is J am urging upon you 
 Ponder it well. Weigh it in the balances of reason. It is 
 preparation for life. What a sentence ! How pregnant with 
 meaning ! Suppose you were going upon a voyage to a 
 strange land, never to return to your own country. Would 
 you not prepare both for the safety and comfort of the voy- 
 age, and also for your well-being in the country where you 
 were going to dwell the remainder of your existence ; and 
 would not every body be astounded at you, if you were busy 
 about a variety of things, and yet gave no care at all to the 
 work of preparation for your voyage, and your foreign resi- 
 dence ? And what is your life but a voyage to eternity — a 
 state requiring preparation both for itself and what lies be- 
 yond it ? Now if in the former case you would be anxiour. 
 to get a safe vessel ; to select a skilful and agreeable cap 
 tain ; to choose a comfortable berth ; to sail with pleasant 
 companions ; to lay in a good stock of necessary articles ; 
 and if you would commence the preparation in due time, 
 that when the hour of embarkation arrives you might have 
 nothing to do but to go on board ; how much more necessary 
 is it that now in youth, you should be diligently preparing 
 by-and-bye to embark on the ocean of human life. And if 
 in the case I have supposed, you would be still more anxious 
 about the foreign land in which you were going to dwell than 
 even about the comfort of the voyage itself, how much more 
 important is it that you should be more careful about the 
 eternity to which this life leads, than the comfort of life 
 itself ? 
 
 Not only does life, like everything else, require preparation, 
 but more than everything else. If every situation in life 
 demands previous consideration, provision, and training — 
 if every new, detached, and isolated scene demands an adap- 
 
PREPARATON FOR LIFE. 23 
 
 tation, a meetness, a bracing up of the mind to it, how much 
 more the whole of life. Who can do anything well, that is 
 novel, difficult, and important, without forethought and plan, 
 and purpose ? Who then should think of entering upon life 
 without preparation ? Stepping upon the stage of existenca 
 without learning to act well their part in the great drama ? 
 A life altogether unprepared for, must be a life of perpetual 
 mistakes, faults, and miseries. A man cannot live happily, 
 righteously, usefully, or successfully, who does not prejpare 
 to do so — that is, he cannot at all expect to do so, and or- 
 dinarily he does not do so. 
 
 You are to recollect, young men, that while the brute 
 creation are prepared by instinct for their life, and without 
 any previous education, perform all the functions which are 
 necessary to their well-being, and to answer the ends of their 
 creation, you can be prepared only by an education in which 
 you must take a part. The bird constructs her nest, the 
 spider her web, the bee her cell, and the beaver his house, 
 by instinct, and they do their work as well and as perfectly 
 the first time as the tenth. They are taught in no school, 
 are apprenticed to no master ; there is no preparation neces- 
 sary for their life. He that gave it, gave all necessary pre- 
 paration with it. But it is not so in your case. Instinct 
 teaches you to eat, and drink, and sleep, and perform other 
 functions of the animal economy ; but in all ihat pertains to 
 art, science, literature, business, and religion, in short, to all 
 that pertains to you as social, rational, moral, and immortal 
 creatures, you must use your reason, under the guidance, in 
 some things, of revelation, and in all, in dependance upon 
 the help and blessing of God. One of the purposes for 
 which this reason is given you, and for which it ought to be 
 exercised, is to prepare for life. It is to assist you of course 
 2 
 
24 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 iji life, but it is also to prepare you for it. You must think 
 compare, choose, weigh evidence, and determine. You musi 
 prepare to live by taking up and fixing in your mind ii 
 early youth, certain great principles, which unquestionably 
 will not grow and establish themselves there spontaneously 
 Such, for instance, as that in all things and all events God 
 is to be obeyed — that there is an essential distinction be- 
 tween sin and holiness, in all conduct, both within the mind 
 and without ; and that sin, whatever temporal advantages or 
 pleasures it may yield, is absolutely a dreadful evil, and 
 ought to be avoided — that nothing ought to be done which 
 must be afterwards repented of — that judgment and con^ 
 science must always prevail over inclination — that no good in 
 anything is to be expected without eflfort and labor — that we 
 must never put off till futurity what can and ought to be 
 done in the present — that what ought not to be done twice, 
 should not to be done once — that what should be done at 
 all, should be always well done — and that the future should 
 predominate over the present. Now, reason dictates all 
 these to be written in the very soul as the preparation for 
 life. And it is equally clear that reason dictates great cau- 
 tion in allowing practical conclusions to be drawn, and de- 
 terminations to be adopted, from mere impressions of fancy 
 or feeling) or from some casual situation into which a person 
 may be thro\Tn. In other words, you must judge of princi- 
 ples, whether theoretical or practical, good or bad, not by 
 adventitious circumstances, such as the persons by whom 
 they are held, or the fascinations or repulsions with which 
 they are set forth, but by themselves, apart from all these 
 things. 
 
 Remember that if God determines to continue you on 
 the earth for any considerable length of time, as in all rea- 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 25 
 
 sonable probability he does, life, witb all its situations, duties, 
 trials, cares, difficulties, and responsibilities, will come, whe 
 ther you are prepared for them or not. You are in life, and 
 must go on. Childhood and youth must of necessity leave 
 you in manhood. The time of your entering upon all the 
 unknown solicitudes of man's condition on earth approaches 
 You must soon leave school, if you have not already , 
 and come out of your apprenticeship, if you have not yet 
 done so. You must soon be as that young tradesman who 
 has entered upon the race of competition for a livelihood or 
 wealth. You must soon plunge into that vortex of care and 
 labor, which is whirling him round and round on the rapid 
 stream of human life, and life's manifold business. All the 
 perplexities which harrass his mind, must soon harrass yours ; 
 all the temptations which assail his integrity, must soon assail 
 yours; and, prepared or unprepared, you mast meet them 
 What ! enter into that conflict, unprepared by forethought, 
 by knowledge, by principle, by habit ! Alas, poor thought- 
 less youth, we pity you, and without a prophet's gift, can 
 foretel what terrible work you will make of life. Poor, de- 
 fenceless, untaught lamb, the wolves are before you, and 
 what is to become of you ? 
 
 That for which you are required to prepare, we repeat, i' 
 your whole life — not a particular situation — not a term of 
 years, however lengthened — not some contingent circum 
 stance, but your whole existence upon earth. You may dio 
 in youth, it is true, aaid therefore we admonish you by all the 
 earnestness in our power, to prepare by true piety for death 
 — and nothing else will prepare you for it. Should you die 
 young, I remind you that preparation for life is also prepaia- 
 tion for death. Eeligion, which meetens you to perform well 
 your part on earth, is your education, your training for hea- 
 
26 THE TOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 ven. True, your secular education, your knowledge of busi 
 ness, may seem, in the event of your early death, to be use 
 less. But not so ; the habits of submission, self-denial, and 
 proper application of your mental powers, which even in 
 these secular things, were called forth under the influence 
 of principle ; all these go into the training of the soul for 
 the higher state of her existence. But in all probability, 
 most of you will live, some forty, others fifty, others sixty, 
 and some few of you will linger on to seventy or eighty years 
 — and it is preparation for all this term that is now urged 
 upon you. What a comprehension of scene, circumstance, 
 and situation, does that term include ! Imagine what may 
 happen, must happen, in sixty or seventy years. Through 
 what a variety of situations, temptations, difficulties, trials, 
 changes, even if there be nothing at all extraordinary 
 or out of the common course of man's history, you will 
 be called to pass. And should not all this be pre- 
 pared ^for } It is impossible for you now to imagine the 
 designs of Providence towards you. I would not excite 
 and influence your imagination *to anything that is ro- 
 mantic ; nor set you upon building castles in the air ; 
 nor lead you to leave oflF plodding, and in the exercise of 
 an unauthorised ambition, to seek by a leap or bound, to 
 reach an exalted situation, or by a stroke to grasp a large 
 fortune. Still it is impossible to conjecture what opportunity 
 you may have given you, by patient and successful industry, 
 to rise in life. In this happy country, there is no chain of 
 caste which binds a man down to the situation and circum- 
 stances of his birth. The very heights in social and com- 
 mercial life are accessible to all, from whatever low level they 
 commence the ascent. The grandfather of the late Sir Robert 
 Perl was at one time a journeyman cotton-spinner. He that 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 2/ 
 
 laid tba foundation of the greatness and wealth of the Ark- 
 wright family was a barber. Carey, one of the greatest 
 linguists and missionaries of modern times, was a cobbler. 
 Stephenson, the great engineer and first constructor of rail- 
 ways, was a mender of watches. No one knows what open- 
 ings God may set before him in life, and should he not be 
 prepared to take advantage of them ? Yea, this very prepa- 
 ration, in many cases, makes the opening. Ignorance, idle- 
 ness and vice can never rise. They will ever sink by their 
 own weight, and effectually close any door which Providence 
 might set open. "What a painful reflection is it for any man 
 to make in future life, when some rare and golden opportu- 
 nity presents itself for bettering his condition, " Alas, I can- 
 not avail myself of it. I am disqualified. I made no pre- 
 paration. With tolerable diligence at school and during my 
 apprenticeship, I could have fitted myself for it ; but my 
 indolence then, and my folly and sin subsequently, have put 
 it quite out of my power to seize the advantage thus offered 
 me." 
 
 Consider, again, if any great mistake, as to the end and 
 purpose of life, and the manner of spending it, should for 
 want of due preparation be made, there is ordinarily no such 
 thing as rectifying it. There is no going back, and begin- 
 ning again — no living life over again — no profiting by expe- 
 rience — no repetition of the opportunity for preparation. 
 " The wheels of time are not constructed to roll backwards ;" 
 nor can the hands retrograde on any man's dial. There is 
 but one life and one death appointed to any man, and there- 
 fore only one opportunity to prepare for death, and only one 
 to prepare for life. All depends on one cast of the die. How 
 momentous that is. How does such an idea deserve to be 
 pondered by every young man. Only one life in this world 
 
28 THE YOUNG man's friend. 
 
 and only one in the next, (o be prepared for — what ! and 
 that one neglected ! Vain are the regrets and the wishes 
 of the man, who amidst his broken fortunes, poverty, misery, 
 and disconcerted schemes, has thus to reflect, and thus to 
 reproach himself, " It is my own fault — I have no one to 
 blame but myself. I was forewarned and admonished that 
 life's duties, trials, and happiness, required preparation. 
 Even from childhood I heard all this. At school I was inat- 
 tentive and idle. During my apprenticeship I loved pleasure 
 rather than business. In youth I sought bad companions, 
 rather than good books. I neglected all mental culture, and 
 I feared not God. I entered life without any preparation. 
 I have succeeded in nothing, for I was fit for nothing. My 
 one chance is gone. I am prepared for neither world, and 
 now I am miserable here, and may expect to be miserable 
 hereafter." 
 
 How many have we, who are older than you are, known, 
 whose history has verified all this painful self-reproach. You 
 are young, and have not yet seen much of life. Take our 
 testimony, who have. We will not deceive you. We speak 
 that which we have known, and declare unto you that which 
 we have seen. We have watched the docile scholar, the dili- 
 gent, industrious apprentice, and the pious youth, as he rose 
 and ripened into the successful, holy, and happy master, 
 tradesman, and Christian ; and thus became the joy of his 
 parents, the ornament of his family, and the blessing of so- 
 ciety. While, on the other hand, we have seen with grief 
 those who in their boyhood and their youth manifested an 
 idleness and a waywardness which no culture could instruct, 
 and no discipline correct — who hated knowledge and de- 
 spised reproof — who, in the spring-time of life, sowed the 
 seeds neither of piety nor of social excellence, — wa have, I 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 29 
 
 say, seen many such, who made no preparation for lif», ex- 
 cept it were for an unholy, unfortunate, and unhappy one — 
 become their mother's shame, their father's grief, the dis- 
 grace of their friends, the curses of society, and their own 
 torment and dishonor. These are common scenes ; and yoik 
 will exemplify one or the other of them in your history. 
 
 Your own happiness, then, it is apparent, is deeply in- 
 volved in this preparation. You are created to be happy. 
 God wills your happiness, and has provided for it. Yow 
 ought not to be indifferent to it. Your happiness is in your 
 own hands. All the world cannot, and God will not, make 
 you happy, irrespective of your own conduct. Understand 
 at the outset of life this great principle, that happiness arises 
 more from disposition, character, and conduct, than from 
 possessions ; from what we are, more than from what we 
 have. Its springs, to a considerable extent, lie in your own 
 nature. It is a beautiful saying of Holy Scripture, " A 
 good man shall be satisfied from himself." — Prov. xiv., 14. 
 This deserves your attention, your study, your practical re- 
 collection. The happiness of life depends in a great mea- 
 sure upon youth. A bad boy seldom makes a happy man ; 
 though God sometimes changes him, and calls him in man- 
 hood to an entire renovation. Suppose, for instance, young 
 men, there were two kinds of seeds, one of which you must 
 by some necessity of nature, or compulsion, sow every 
 spring, and the fruit of which you must, by the same neces- 
 sity, live upon every winter ; one kind yielding that which 
 is bitter, and nauseous, and inflicting severe pain ; the other 
 that which was pleasant to the taste, and salubrious to the 
 constitution ; would you not be very careful which you se- 
 lected and cast into your garden, knowing as you would what 
 must be the inevitable result ? Why this is your condition 
 
30 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 of existence and your employment. You are always 
 sowing in youth what you must always reap in manhood. 
 But, apart from its results, the very act of preparing for 
 life, is itself a part of the happiness of life. Diligence at 
 school — attention to business — mental cultivation — true re- 
 ligion, and good habits, independently of the consequences 
 they bring after them, are themselves the elements of enjoy- 
 ment. An idle man is the most miserable of God's crea- 
 tures, except it be he, who, as is often the case, adds vice 
 to indolence. Woe, woe be to him who brings upon himself 
 the pains and penalties of laziness. 
 
 It is not, however, your own happiness and well-being 
 alone^ that will be affected by your conduct and character, 
 but the well-being of others. Your own individuality is 
 something, yea, much to you^ and you are not to be indiffer- 
 ent to it. God, by his own authority, protects you against 
 yourself. He says, " Do thyself no harm." He will not 
 allow you to be reckless of your own happiness. He has 
 given you a capacity for bliss, and made provision for it, and 
 accounts it an opposition to his beneficent designs, if you do 
 not endeavor in bis way, and according to his purpose, to 
 be happy. But then you are a social creature — born in 
 society — intended for society — bound to promote the well- 
 being of society. Most of you will be husbands, fathers, 
 masters, neighbors, citizens ; and you ought to prepare to 
 act well your part in all these relations. You will contribute 
 something to the well or ill-being of the community. You 
 will be the nettles, the briars, and the brambles of the land ; 
 or its oaks, its myrtles, or its fig-trees — you will be your 
 country's strength or its weakness ; its beauty or its defor- 
 mity. Your country has claims upon you. You are there- 
 fore to prepare to serve it, and to serve it well. You must 
 
FREPARilTION FOR LIFE. 31 
 
 by an intelligent and moral patriotism, implanted early in 
 your heart, seek to bless the land of your birth. Piety and 
 sound morality are a nation's strength, more even than its 
 armies and its navies ; its wealth more than its commerce ; 
 and its glory more than its literature, its science, and its 
 victories. Young men, you belong to the greatest nation 
 upon earth ; be worthy o,f your distinction. Cherish more 
 than a Roman's patriotism, without a Roman's pride. Let 
 your country's present welfare and her future destiny be near 
 your hearts. Let your youthful bosom swell with the noble 
 ambition of doing something for the land of your ancestors 
 and your posterity. Add by your prayers a stone to her 
 bulwarks, and by your personal excellence a ray to the glory 
 that beams around her head. 
 
 But this is, perhaps, too large a scale on which to view 
 your influence : too wide a circle for you to see yourself dif- 
 fusing happiness or misery. Consider, then, the family rela- 
 tionships you will sustain. Look on and anticipate what 
 kind of a husband, father, master, and tradesman, you are 
 likely to make ; and how you shall preside over the domestic 
 economy. Some woman's destiny fer life will hang upon 
 you, and the happiness of, perhaps, a iiumerous family ; and 
 then upon their conduct will depend by an onward succes- 
 sion, the destiny of others to descend from them. You will 
 thus commence a dark or a bright line of human existence 
 which will run onward through all futura generations, and be 
 still going forward when the last trump shall sound. Misery 
 or bliss, at the distance of centuries, or at the very antipodes, 
 may be traced back to you. It is not, therefore, permitted 
 you to be perfectly isolated and neutral. You are not to 
 dwell in a hermitage or a monastery ; nor in a cave of the 
 wilderness; nor on some solitary mountain, t^J^cc m« ej9 
 2* 
 
32 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 will observe you, no ear hear you, — but amidst the busy and 
 the crowded haunts of men, where an influence to a greater 
 or smaller extent will go out from you, and you must be the 
 salt or the poison of the earth. You must, you do, touch 
 others, whose lot is to a considerable extent mixed up with 
 yours. Ought you not to think of this, and prepare for it ? 
 You are destined to light up the countenance of your fellow- 
 creatures with smiles, or to suffuse their eyes with tears — to 
 inflict wounds, or to heal them — to " break the bruised reed," 
 or to " bind up the broken in heart." With what emphasis, 
 therefore, may I now say to you — Prepare to live — society, 
 futurity, your country, and the world, demand it of you. 
 
 But there is another reason — the last, the highest, and 
 most momentous of all — why you should prepare to live, and 
 that is — the life you live in this world is the preparation for 
 the life you are to live in the next. What the term and 
 purpose of school pursuits, and the apprenticeship, are to the 
 present life, that the whole of the present life is to the future 
 one beyond the grave. You are now, and ever will be on 
 earth, in a state of pupilage for heaven and eternity. Upon 
 the fugitive existence in this world hangs the everlasting exist- 
 ence in another. You are constructing a character, the form 
 of which, whatever it be, is to last forever. How momentous 
 an idea ! Yes, there is another world, an eternal world, a 
 world of everlasting and ineffable felicity or woe. Yes, you 
 are immortal beings, young men. Immortality, the highest 
 attribute of Grod, is yours also. In this, as in other things, 
 God made man in his own likeness. Before you lies the 
 shoreless ocean of eternity. Look over the vast expanse. 
 Meditate the wondrous theme. Human life is the preparation 
 time, the brief, the uncertain, the only one, for those ever- 
 rolling ages. Every step you take in this world is to heaven 
 
PREPARATION FOR LIFE. 33 
 
 or to hell. This little span, this inch of time — our life, is 
 all we have to prepare for all that lies beyond. Take this 
 view of it, I beseech you. Learn at the outset of life, and 
 ever remember through all its future stages, that it is given 
 to you as a discipline and probation for eternity. You have 
 entered upon the trial ; the awful probation is going on. 
 Do not let the thoughtlessness of youth hide it from you. 
 Do not let pleasure lead you to forget it. Do not permit 
 eompanions to divert your attention from it — there it stands 
 before you — the dread, the glorious, the grand reality, of 
 man's existence — immortality. Look at it, ponder it, 1 
 be?'eech you. Let it possess you, literally possess you. 
 Feel as if you could not cast it out from your mind, as if 
 you would- not be dispossessed of the wondrous conception. 
 Repel with indignation the attempt to lead you into an 
 oblivion of this your noblest distinction, your richest birth- 
 right. Treat the man who would despoil you of this, your 
 highest dignity, or even of the right consideration of it, as 
 you would the thief that would rob you of your purse, or 
 the assassin that would destroy your life. Prepare then by 
 true religion for that life which is itself to prepare you for 
 immortality. 
 
 In conclusion, and to sum up all I have said — there you 
 are, a rational, sinful, immortal, accountable creature, just 
 about to start in the career of active life, with time and 
 eternity before you — heaven above you — hell beneath you — 
 dangers all round you — and many corruptions and imperfec- 
 tions within you. Does it becomo such a creature, in such 
 a position, to make no preparation } Whether you think 
 of it or not, two worlds, this and the next, are to be in- 
 habited by you. What your lot may be in the present one, 
 none but He who is omniscient can even conjecture. An 
 
S4 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 impenetrable veil hides the future from your view, and not 
 the smallest rent or opening suffers a single ray of light to 
 reveal what is before you. Whether you shall die young 
 or live to old age — whether you shall fail or succeed in 
 business — whether you shall rise or sink in society — whe 
 ther you shall wear out existence in sorrow or in joy — no 
 one but God can tell us, and he will not. Much will depend 
 upon Him ; but let me remind you, much also will depend 
 upon yourself. Abandon the heathen notion of fate. We 
 believe in Providence, but not in fate, and we admonish 
 yoti to believe in it also, and by constant prayer to seek 
 its blessing — but do not forget that Providence never 
 blesses idleness, thoughtlessness, negligence, and extra- 
 vagance. Providence helps those that help themselves. 
 Everything, therefore, cries to you, " Prejpare for life.P 
 Your teachers, your parents, your masters, your ministers, 
 say to you, '-'• Prejpare to Ziye. " Your reason, your con- 
 science, your weakness, your ignorance of the world, say 
 to you, " Prejpare to live.'''' The prosperity of those who 
 have succeeded, and the poverty of those who have failed, 
 say, '•'■ Prejpare to livey The duties, the trials, the diflS- 
 culties, the dangers of earth, the felicities of heaven, the 
 torments of the bottoniL^ss pit say, ^'- Prepare to live ;''^ and 
 above all, the great God, who has given you existence, 
 who is willing to help you to live holily, usefully, and 
 happily — and who will call you into judgment for the man- 
 ner in which life has been spent — says to you, " Prepare to 
 live.'''' Can you — dare you — ^will you — turn a deaf ear to 
 voices so numerous, so solemn, so consentaneous ? — Will 
 you? 
 
THE YOUNG MAN ENTERING LIFE. 
 
 " In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.'^— 
 Proverbs iii. 6. 
 
 This text may be called the poll-star of human life, placed 
 by the hand of God in the firmament of Scripture, for the eye 
 of man to observe upon earth ; and he that fixeth his atten- 
 tion upon it, and steereth his course by it across this troubled 
 and dangerous ocean, shall enter at length the haven of ever- 
 lasting peace. It is applicable to all persons, and to all situa- 
 tions ; but especially to those who are just entering upon the 
 duties, the dangers, and the perplexities, of man's terrestrial 
 course. As a rule of conduct it is brief, simple, intelligible, 
 and unmistakeable, easily remembered, and delightful in the 
 observance. It implies, rather than asserts, the existence 
 and operations of an all-comprehensive, all-wise, all-gracious 
 Providence, that appoints, directs, and controls the afiairs of 
 men — a Providence that is not only general, as guiding the 
 destinies of nations and worlds, but is particular and minute, 
 as shaping the history of individuals. There are some who 
 profess to believe in a Providential interposition in the great 
 events of history, but deny its regard to the minute afiiiirs of 
 individuals. But who can tell what, in fact, is gre?t, and 
 
30 TTIE YOUNO man's FRTKND. 
 
 what is little, or how far great events are iiifin nc ;(] by 
 lesser ones ? The destinies of nations have soniL^times hung 
 upon a thought. But we need not reason upon this, sinco 
 Christ has asserted that " a sparrow falleth not to the 
 ground without the knowledge of our Heavenly Father.'' 
 Without this view, the doctrine of Providence might be 
 grand as an object of contemplation, but it could yield little 
 consolation as a subject of faith. Individual trust, prayer, 
 hope, and praise, all rest upon the ground of individual Pro- 
 vidence. It is not what God is to the universe at large, but 
 what he is to me as an individual, that is the chief source of 
 my comfort, and the strongest motive to my duty. Now 
 the text proposes him to us as an oracle we may individually 
 consult ; and the injunction means, that, really believing 
 God by his Providence directs all things, we should consult 
 him by reading his Holy Word, where he has revealed his 
 will ; and that by sincere and earnest prayer we seek his 
 leave /or everything, his direction in everything, his blessing 
 njion everything, and his glory hy everything, we do. In 
 short, it means a devout and practical remembrance of God, 
 as the Disposer of all things, in all the varying circum- 
 stances and all the changeful situations of life ; and promises 
 us his wise and gracious direction in all our affairs. How 
 easy — how safe — how tranquil — how dignified a course of 
 action ! How vast the privilege of this access to an omni- 
 potent, omnipresent, omniscient, all-sufficient Friend, for 
 advice, direction, and consolation. Why a wise and benevo- 
 lent human counsellor ever at hand is a blessing, how much 
 more one that is Divine. 
 
 So much for the text. Wc now come to the subject of 
 the Sermon — The Young Man Entering upon Life: by 
 which we mean that period of his existence which follows 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 37 
 
 his education and apprenticeship, when he usually leaves his 
 father's house, and becomes a shopman, clerk, or journey- 
 man — the intermediate stage between the youth and the man 
 of business. Yet it may be remarked that the periods and 
 situations intended to be described and distinguished as sepa- 
 rate, in the last sermon and this, run much into one another, 
 and extend onward to settlement in life and the commence- 
 ment of business. 
 
 This, young men, is the situation of those whom I now 
 address — you are most of you not in business for yourselves 
 but looking forward to it ; off from your parents, support- 
 ing yourselves by your own industry, and, therefore, just 
 stepping upon the stage of active life ; commencing your 
 part in the great drama, with the scenes already shifting 
 before and around you. 
 
 Let me, then, remind you, a little more at large, — 
 
 First, Of your actual situation. 
 
 It is one of deep and pressing solicitude to your parents 
 and other friends. 
 
 They have parted from you, and sent you forth, almost 
 with the feeling and the fear that it was as lambs among 
 wolves. They know, for they have passed through them, 
 the dangers of youth, and of a youth away from home. If 
 your good conduct and well-formed character at home, have 
 inspired them with confidence, their solicitude is somewhat 
 abated ; but even then an anxious father will exclaim, ^' What 
 if this fair blossom of parental hope, which grew so beauti- 
 fully and looked so lovely, when sheltered under the parental 
 roof, should now be blighted when removed to the ungenial 
 blasts of the world's temptations — the very possibility makes 
 my heart bleed — Ok, my son, my son .'" How intensely 
 aggravated is this painful solicitude, if unhappily his child 
 
3S THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 is going forth undecided in religion, unconverted to God 
 with no " armor of righteousness on the right hand and on 
 the left," to defend him from the assaults of temptation ; and 
 if even at home portents have showed themselves of future 
 misconduct. " Oh," says the distressed father, " if the 
 wholesome laws, the firm, yet mild restraint of parental 
 authority and domestic order, could not repress the outbreaks 
 of youthful irregularity, what is to become of him, when 
 even these are withdrawn, and he is left to the unchecked 
 strength of his own corruptions, and the force of surround- 
 ing temptations — Oh ^ my son ^ my son r'* Young men, you 
 cannot know all a father's and a mother's agonizing solici- 
 tude for you, on your going out into the world ; but yuu 
 can conceive of it in part, by the scenes of that sorrowful 
 hour when amidst so many tears your mother parted from 
 you, and with a voice half-choked, your father grasped your 
 hand and stammered out, " Farewell, my boy. Behave 
 yourself well, and comfort our hearts by your good conduct." 
 How anxious are they to hear from you, and of you — to 
 have their fears dissipated and their hopes confirmed. How 
 eagerly, joyfully, and yet how tremblingly, they open every 
 letter to judge from its contents whether there are any signs 
 of incipient moral mischief in your character. Respect their 
 feelings ; reward their affection ; relieve their solicitude. 
 Call it not suspicion, jealousy, distrust. . No, no, it is love 
 trembling over its object ; affection agonizing for its loved 
 one. Many an hour is that mother kept waking at midnight, 
 thinking and praying for her absent son, who has recently 
 left her to enter upon the world's business ; and often amidst 
 other cares, does your father feel it to be one of the mightiest 
 of them all, to consider how his boy conducts himself in his 
 new situation. Let me plead then for the peace of those 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 39 
 
 two hearts which throb so anxiously for you, and for the 
 peace of which, as it is in your keeping, your own ought to 
 throb most responsively. 
 
 But I now turn from your parents, and remind you of the 
 momentous and infinite importance of this period of your life 
 to yourselves. It is, in all probability, the crisis of your his- 
 tory — the hinge of your destiny — the casting of your lot for 
 both worlds — the formation of your character for time and 
 for eternity. Through every hour, almost every minute 
 of this term, and in every scene, your character is passing 
 from that state of fusion in which it was left by boyhood and 
 youth, into the cold, hard solidity and fixedness of manhood 
 and mediaeval life. Upon the time that is now passing over 
 you, it depends chiefly what you are to be, and to do 
 through all time and eternity. The next two years will 
 very likely determine the great question, concerning the 
 character of your whole existence. The observable ten- 
 dencies of boyhood and youth — the signification prognostica- 
 tion of the pupil and the apprentice — the declaratory signs 
 of earlier years, will now receive their full, and perhaps final 
 confirmation. Your character growing, like your body, 
 through the previous stages of existence, now like that, 
 arrives at its full shape and maturity, which it will hereafter 
 retain and exhibit. Can you be thoughtless and carelessly 
 indifi'erent at such a crisis ? Is it possible .'' Can you help 
 saying, " Is it so, then — am I really now, just at this period, 
 becoming my permanent, future self.? Am I determinincr 
 for all time, and for all eternity, what kind of moral, social, 
 and intellectual "being I am to be ? Am I now casting my 
 lot, forming my destiny, choosing my character ? What 
 thoughtfulness, seriousness, devoutness, and prayer for God's 
 Holy Spirit to assist me, ought I to manifest .? What W' aid 
 
40 THE YOUNG MAN S FRI2ND. 
 
 I be in and through all future life, and through all eternity ? 
 What I am now, that in all probability I shall be. I am 
 entering upon life, and as T begin, so am I likely to con- 
 tinue." Yes, stand by that consideration. It is of immense 
 importance to start well. He that at the beginning of his 
 journey takes the wrong road, diverges at every step farther 
 and farther from the right path ; and though return is not 
 impossible, yet at what an expense of time and comfort is it 
 made ? Take care, then^ to begin well. Solomon says, 
 ^' Better is the end of a thing than the beginning." Espe- 
 cially if it be a good end of a bad beginning. But how 
 rarely does a thing end well, that begins ill. The fruit is 
 better than the blossom — the reaping than the sowing — the 
 victory than ths battle — the home than the journey — the 
 reward than the service. But then all these better endings 
 depend on good beginnings. There can be no rich fruit in 
 autumn, without good blossom in spring — no plentiful reap- 
 ing without plentiful sowing — no victory without a well- 
 fought battle — no returning home without a journey along 
 a right road. So there can be no rational expectation of a 
 good end of life, without a good beginning. 
 
 Secondly. — I will now remind you of the dangers that 
 attend your entering into life. Yes, dangers : and I really 
 wish to excite your fears by the word. I am anxious to 
 awaken your apprehension by thus ringing the alarm bell. 
 Not indeed by raising spectres which have no real existence ; 
 not by calling up spirits from the vasty deep of a gloomy 
 imagination. No, there is no need of flitting before you, in 
 order to excite your fears, the dark shadows and the ghosts 
 of moral romance. The sober and dread reahties of day- 
 light, and of every-day existence, are sufficiently numerous 
 and appalling to justify the use of the most solemn, impres 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 41 
 
 sive, and earnest warnings we can give. Young men, it is 
 a truth, and for you a dread and anxious one, that the moral 
 dangers of life stand thickest round its entrance. The 
 most perilous rocks and shoals in the voyage of life, are at 
 the mouth of the river where it enters the ocean ; and not- 
 withstanding the light-house beacon, which in the Holy Scrip- 
 tures and the faithful labors of authors and preachers, ever 
 keeps holding out its friendly warnings over these dangerous 
 places, more shipwrecks are made there than anywhere 
 else. 
 
 These dangers are so numerous that they must be classed. 
 
 I. There are some which have been thrown in your way, 
 perhaps, by the injudicious conduct of your 'parents. They 
 may have altogether neglected your moral training, and have 
 left you to go forth into the world without any fixed prin- 
 ciples, any good habits, or any rightly formed character. 
 Yea, by a system of false and weak indulgence, they may 
 have partially unfitted you for the trials, the difficulties, the 
 roughnesses, and self denial of life. We will not dwell upon 
 their conduct with the severity it deserves ; but be aware of 
 their mistake and call up your own wisdom to correct it. 
 They have left you something to undo, as well as to do. 
 Supply, by your own resolute will, the deficiency of hardi- 
 hood with which they have left you. Abandon the soft and 
 efi'eminate habits in which they have trained you, and deter- 
 mine to be men and to acquire a manly character. You can, 
 if you will, make up their deficiences — but it will require 
 much efibrt and more perseverance. 
 
 II. There are next the dangers that are inherent in your- 
 selveSy and these are the greatest of all. You not only go to 
 meet perils, you carry them forth with you. 
 
 1. Now at the head of all this class, I must place the 
 
42 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND, 
 
 corruption of your own hearts. " Know thyself," was sup 
 posed by the ancients to be a maxim so replete with impor- 
 tant wisdom as to have descended from heaven. No man 
 can properly exercise self-government, without self-know- 
 ledge. False notions on this subject must of necessity lead 
 to practical errors of a most momentous kind. I cannot, I 
 dare not, I will not flatter you by speaking highly of the na- 
 tive goodness, the moral dignity of human nature. Scripture, 
 observation, and experience, must combine to prove to any 
 impartial mind, that man is in a lapsed condition, alien from 
 God, and estranged from righteousness. This is a first prin- 
 ciple, not only in all true religion, but in all sound philoso- 
 phy. Leaving out this, it is impossible satisfactorily to ac- 
 count for the present condition and general history of the 
 human race. Forgetting, or denying this, your whole sys- 
 tem of religion and morals will be wrong, and your whole 
 course of action defective and erroneous. You will not, can- 
 not know, the chief source of your danger, and that which 
 alone can account for the existence and power of other dan- 
 gers : nor will yoii know whence or how to begin, or how to 
 proceed in watching and guarding against them. There is, 
 you know it, you feel it, and perhaps some of you lament it, 
 a fatal propensity to evil, which — though inclining to what is 
 wrong, yet as by divine grace it may be resisted and removed, 
 and is therefore neither irresistible tendency nor invincible 
 necessity, but a voluntary choice — is no excuse for actual 
 sin, though it may account for it. It is not danger from 
 without only you have to fear, but also from within ; not 
 from others merely, but from yourself. You carry your 
 tempter in your own heart, you were your own tempter. 
 You will be surrounded with external seductions, and you 
 will also expose to them a nature too willing to be so- 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 43 
 
 duced. There is in you " an evil heart of unbelief in de- 
 parting from the living God." You have more need to be 
 afraid of yourself than even of Satan or the world. These 
 cannot tempt you but through your own corruptions. Hence 
 the imperative need of your seeking first of all the entire re- 
 novation of your own hearts, and keeping evermore a constant 
 watch over yourselves. You will be most inadequately pre- 
 pared to grapple with temptation unless you know what it is 
 that gives it force. 
 
 But the corruption of our hearts assumes a different form 
 in different persons, and puts itself forth in a manner appro- 
 priate to our age, circumstances and temptations. In your 
 case there are those " youthful lusts,^^ from which by apos- 
 tolic injunction you are exhorted to flee. In addition to an 
 inflammable and prurient imagination — rashness and impetu- 
 osity of temper — the thoughtlessness and recklessness of dis- 
 position — the pride of independence — and the head-strong 
 waywardness, which are too common to youth — there are the 
 animal apjpetites aiid jprojpensities^ which are now coming out 
 in all their force : those promptings of licentiousness and im- 
 pulses of sensuality, to which there are so many incentives, 
 and which require so strong a restraint by reason and religion 
 — I mean, young men, the vices which form the drunkard 
 and the debauchee : those illicit gratifications which degrade 
 the man into the brute. The danger here exceeds all the 
 alarm I can possibly give. No warning can be too loud, no 
 entreaties too importunate, in regard to this peril. Voices 
 from the pulpit, from the hospital, from the hulks, from the 
 workhouse, from the lunatic asylum, from the grave, and 
 from the bottomless pit, — all unite in saying, " Young men, 
 beware of sensuality." Flee from them as from a serpent or 
 a lion. Kead what Solomon says, who could speak on such a 
 
44 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 subject from his own unhappy and dishonorah/e experience 
 " The lips of a strange woman drop as an honey-comb, and 
 her mouth is smoother than oil ; but her end is bitter as worm- 
 wood, sharp as a two-edged sword. Her feet go down to 
 death, her steps take hold on hell : let not thine heart decline 
 to her ways, go not astray in her paths. For she has cast 
 down many wounded : yea, many strong men have been slain 
 by her. Her house is the way to hell, going down to the 
 chambers of death." Prov. v. 7. Read these chapters, and 
 in connection with them, Job xx. 11 — 14. 1 Cor. vi. 15 — 
 20. 1 Thess. iv. 2—5. Heb. xiii. 4. Rev. xxi. 8. 
 
 There is also another form which the corruption of our 
 nature assumes, and which the apostle calls " the deceitful- 
 ness of sin." " Exhort one another daily, lest any of you be 
 hardened through the deceitfulness of sin." Heb. iii. 13. 
 Deceit is not only one of the characteristics of sin, but is its 
 most dangerous one, and none are so much in danger of being 
 imposed upon by it as the young ; nor they at any period of 
 their life, so much as when just entering upon it. You have 
 never perhaps looked upon it sufficiently under this character 
 of deceit. You may have dwelt upon its exceeding sinful- 
 ness, but its deceptiveness has escaped you. Yet this 
 is what you have chiefly to guard against. It is a most 
 cunning and artful foe. Observe what pains it takes to dis- 
 guise itself, and conceal its hideous nature. It does not 
 appear in its own proper and genuine dress, nor call itself 
 by its own proper name. It puts the mask of virtue upon 
 the face of vice, and wraps itself in the cloak of dissimula- 
 tion, by calling sins virtues, and virtues sins : thus — excess 
 and intemperance are called a social disposition and good 
 fellowship : prodigality is liberality ; pride and resentment, 
 honor, spirit, and dignity ; licentious levity, innocent 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 45 
 
 liberty and cheerfulness ; lying artifice, skill in business ; 
 sordid avarice, frugality. So in the opposite treatment of 
 virtue, it endeavors to degrade this into vice. True religion 
 is sour puritanisra, hypocritical cant ; tenderness of con- 
 science, narrowness of mind ; zeal for truth, bigotry. Now, 
 my young friends, do not be imposed upon by such shallow 
 artifices as these : recognize in such attempts, a wicked and 
 daring attempt to confound all moral distinctions ; and which 
 must, of course, bring upon itself the woe denounced against 
 those '' who call evil good, and good evil." Disdain this 
 cajolery, this attempt to impose upon your understanding by 
 merely changing the names of things, while the things them- 
 selves remain the same. Consider not only that your moral 
 nature, but your intellectual, is insulted by such a feeble effort 
 to mislead it. Take it with you as a maxim of great import- 
 ance to remember, and an evil to be avoided, — that the 
 generality of men are more governed by words and names 
 than by things, and never more so than on matters of moral 
 good and evil. Endeavor on the contrary to be governed 
 by things rather than names. 
 
 And then in tracing the deceitfulness of sin, mark the 
 excuses it makes for itself — the insensible degrees by which 
 it leads on the sinner in his course ; first tempting to little 
 gins — thus preparing him for greater ones ; first urging only 
 to single sins — afterwards soliciting a repetition ; first asking 
 for secret sins — soon emboldening him for open ones ; first 
 allowing him to sin in decent company — at length drawing 
 him into the society of the notoriously wicked ; first allowing 
 him to blush — then making him to glory in his shame ; first 
 leaving him content to sin himself — then prompting him on 
 to tempt others ; first telling him that if he does not choose 
 to go on, he can soon and easily retrace his steps — then cut 
 
46 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 ting off his retreat bj involving him in such a complexity of 
 transgression, that he feels it almost necessary to go for- 
 ward, adding sin to sin ; first telling him repentance is too 
 soon, because his sins have hitherto been so trivial — then 
 Buggesting it is too late, because they have been so great ; 
 first assuring him God is too lenient to notice his beginnings 
 of sin — then declaring that he is too just to forgive his 
 crimes — thus leading him into, and keeping him in, the path 
 of transgression. Such is the true nature of sin — a horrid 
 practical lie — a deadly deceit — the greatest imposture in the 
 universe — the most destructive fraud ever perpetrated in the 
 world's history. And you, young men, are the selected vic- 
 tims of its wiles. The arch deceiver is more intent on you 
 than on all else. There the siren sits on the rocks of that 
 sea, which you are just entering, sending forth her dulcet 
 but deadly strains, enrapturing you to your destruction — 
 making you willing to be wrecked, and to die in the arms of 
 this fatal enchantress. 
 
 Your inexperience endangers you. Life is an untrodden 
 path. You are only just beginning to live ; its difficulties, 
 dangers, temptations, are all new to you. You are ignorant, 
 to a considerable extent, of the machinations of Satan, the 
 wiles of the world, and the devices of your own heart. You 
 are ignorant of your own ignorance ; and know not your 
 own weakness and instability. You have hitherto been in 
 some measure sheltered in private, now you are to be exposed 
 in public. Forms of iniquity of which hitherto you were 
 happily ignorant, will rise up with fascinating appearances 
 in your path. Scenes never anticipated by you, and for 
 wiiich, therefore, you could make no special preparation, will 
 open before you, and ere you are aware draw you by theii 
 Kpecious attractions into temptation. Sudden assaults, and 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 4Y 
 
 altogether new ones, will be made upon your principles 
 before almost you can have time to buckle on your armor. 
 And what will greatly increase the danger is, your own self- 
 confidence, rashness, and impetuosity. You give yourselves 
 credit, perhaps, for a degree of sagacity to detect, resolution 
 to vanquish, and power to overcome evil, which you do not 
 really possess. You rush in, where others, possessing more 
 Jinowledge, caution, and experience, fear to tread ; you ad- 
 vance boldly to a contest from which it would be your wisdom 
 to retire ; and you are ready to resent it as a disparagement 
 of your strength of mind, purity of heart, and resoluteness 
 of purpose, to hear a suspicion hinted that you are in danger ; 
 and are, therefore, likely to add another proof and example 
 that " he who leaneth to his own understanding and trusteth 
 his own heart, is a fool.' Show me a young man setting out 
 in life with high notions of his own sagacity, virtue, resolute- 
 ness of will and inflexibility of purpose, and there^ without a 
 prophet's inspiration, I can foretel will be a sad illustration 
 of the Scripture which declares that, " Pride goeth before 
 destruction, and a haughty spirit before a fall.'' 
 
 III. Then there are dangers from the corrwpt state of so- 
 ciety. With such hearts as yours, there is in the best state 
 of public morals, wickedness enough to constitute just ground 
 for alarm and for watchfulness. It may not be that your 
 country is worse than all others, or your times more profligate 
 — I think they are not — but it is enough to know that the 
 aboundings of iniquity, and the overflowings of ungodliness, 
 are such as to make all who have any regard for youthful 
 purity afraid. The undoubted fact of the growing prevalence 
 of infidelity in its most seductive forms — the multiplication, 
 as by a fresh inspiration of the wisdom from beneath, t)f all 
 kinds of sinful indulgence — the spreading desecration of the 
 3 
 
48 
 
 Sabbath — the endless new stimulants to worldly pleasure — the 
 demoralized state of the public press — the new and ostenta- 
 tious zeal and spread of Popery — all combine to load the 
 moral atmosphere with the pestilence that walketh in dark- 
 ness, and to send forth the destruction that wasteth at noon- 
 day. Never were there so many malign influences combin- 
 ing and conspiring against the religion and virtue of our 
 young men as now ; and never was it more necessary for 
 them to be aroused to a sense of their danger, and to be put 
 upon their guard. 
 
 Young men, the world is full of temptations : and its im- 
 habitants are divided between the tempters and the tempted. 
 Buckle on your armor for you will need it — the helmet — 
 the breast-plate — the greaves — the shield. The enemies are 
 lurking around — the ambush is laid — the aim is taken — the 
 arrow is fitted to the string — the bow is bent. Beware ; there 
 are evil companions to be avoided. What saith the Scripture, 
 The companion of fools shall be destroyed; I repeat what I 
 have said, the workhouse, the lunatic asylum, the prison, the 
 hulks, the convict ship, the gallows, the bottomless pit, — all, 
 all, attest the truth of this, by the millions they have swal- 
 lowed up in the jaws of destruction. Evil companionship has 
 ruined more characters, more fortunes, more bodies, and 
 more souls, than almost anything else that could be named. 
 This is one of your first and most pressing dangers. It will 
 meet you the next day after you have entered into life. The 
 social instinct is in you, and it is strongest in youth. Man 
 is a gregarious animal. He is made for society, and will 
 have it. Beware, beware then, I implore you, to whom you 
 give your company, and whose company you accept in re- 
 turn.* You must take your character, to a certain extent, 
 from your company, as we:i as impart it to them. Youi 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 49 
 
 companions will seek, at a time of life when your mind is 
 in a state to receive the impression, to stamp their image 
 upon you : and if they did not, you would insensibly, perhaps 
 designedly, copy it. As waters, however pure when they 
 issue from the spring, take the color of the soil through 
 which they flow — as animals transported from one region to 
 another lose something of their former habits, and degenerate 
 by little and little, — so character assimilates to that which 
 surrounds it. You may be forced to have bad coiiTiections — 
 bad acquaintance — for perhaps you cannot avoid them — but 
 you need not, and for your soul's sake, and the sake of every 
 thing dear to you, do not have bad co??ipanions. Men that 
 scoff at religion — ridicule the godly — that make light of sin, 
 and laugh at conscience — that are lewd in their actions, or 
 obscene in their conversation — that are Sabbath-breakers, 
 and lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God — that are 
 extravagant in their habits and loose in their moral princi- 
 ples — these are the fools of whom Solomon speaks, that will 
 bring their own destruction upon you, if you do not avoid 
 them. 
 
 With much the same emphasis do I warn you against bad 
 looks — the infidel and immoral publications of which such a 
 turbid deluge is now flowing from the press, and depositing 
 on the land a soil in which the seeds of all evil will grow 
 with rank luxuriance. Infidelity and immorality have seized 
 upon fiction and poetry, and are endeavoring to press into 
 their service even science and the arts. But besides these, 
 books that inflame the imagination and corrupt the taste, 
 that even by their excitement unfit the mind for the sober 
 realities of life, or that indispose it by everlasting laughter 
 for all that is grave, serious, and dignified, are all to be 
 avoided. In some resp'^^cts bad books are more mischievous 
 
50 
 
 than bad companions, since they are still more accessible, 
 snd more constantly with us ; can be more secretly consulted, 
 and lodge their poison more abidingly in the imagination, the 
 intellect and the heart. A bad book is it bad companion of 
 tne worst kind, and prepares for bad companions of all other 
 kinds. 
 
 There are bad places also, which endanger you, as well as 
 bad companions and bad books ; where, if you have not 
 already formed bad companionships, you are sure to find 
 them. There b \he tavern, the resort of drunkards — the 
 brothel, the r'jsort of debauchees — and the theatre, the 
 resort of both. All these are the avenues to ruin : the 
 wide gates that open into the way of destruction. Many 
 who have been kept out of the way of these places at home, 
 on entering life have indulged in the first instance rather a 
 fjrurient curiosity than an inclination to sin, and have 
 Jiought they would go once to them, just to see what they 
 ire, and whether there is all the harm that has been repre- 
 sented. Fatal curiosity. Oh that once — that first wrong 
 itep — that slip ofi" from the summit of the inclined plane. 
 The door of evil was opened, never again to be closed. 
 (STever trust yourself even once in a place where you would 
 Dot feel justified in going habitually. Never go even once, 
 where you are sure you would not be followed with the 
 approbation of your father, your conscience, and your God, 
 and from which you would not be willing to go immediately 
 to the judgment-seat of Christ. In illustration of the 
 danger of a single visit to an anti- christian scene of amuse- 
 ment, I may here repeat the fact which I have given in 
 another publication, of one of the primitive Christians, that 
 for a long time resisted the importunities of a friend who 
 invited him to witness the gladiatorial fights in the amphi- 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 5J 
 
 theatre. At lengtb he was suLdued, but determined that he 
 would sit with his eyes closed, and thus quiet his own con- 
 science, while he yielded to the solicitations of his friend. 
 An unusual shout of applause which followed some display 
 of skill or courage, excited his curiosity. He opened his 
 eyes, he was interested, could not again close them — went 
 again voluntarily — became a constant and eager attendant — 
 abandoned Christianity, and died a pagan. How many 
 more have been victims to one visit to forbidden places ! 
 
 I mention also had habits — habits of extravagance in the 
 way of apparel, ornaments, and pleasure-taking. A love of 
 gay personal appearance, and sensual gratification, leads to 
 expense ; and as extravagance must have resources, if 
 honesty and industry cannot supply them, dishonesty will 
 create them. Be frugal, economical, prudent. Begin life 
 with a determination to live within your income. Have no 
 needless artificial wants — dispense with the cigar ; it costs 
 money, excites appetite for liquor, leads to evil company 
 and evil places ; and introduces other expenses and other 
 habits. Common and simple as this habit seems to be, it 
 does not always stop with itself. It is within my own 
 knowledge that young men have involved themselves in debt 
 and disgrace by this indulgence. 
 
 And then the, love, of jpleasure. Here again is danger, 
 imminent danger. Do you remember the words of Solomon 
 on this subject ? " He that loveth pleasure shall be a poor 
 man." Prov. xxi. 17. Never was there more occasion for 
 sounding this in the ears of the public, than now. Men 
 were never more bent upon pleasure, and never had the 
 opportunities for enjoyment so much at command. It is a 
 proof of human depravity that science and the arts never 
 give to society a boon, but man's wickedness turns it into a 
 
52 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 means of sinning against God. What an incentive to Sab- 
 bath-breaking has the Railway system proved ! The sanc-^ 
 tity of the Lord's-day is in danger of being trampled down 
 by the unholy foot of pleasure. Sunday excursion trains 
 have become not only a snare and temptation to multitudes, 
 but a source of annoyance to the quiet and godly inhabitanty 
 of several places on the line of our railways. But it is not 
 this only ; invention is racked by those who cater for the 
 public taste to find new pleasures, fresh gratification of sense 
 and appetite. High and low, rich and poor, young and old, 
 are all hungering and thirsting after pleasure, as if this 
 world was given to us for no other purpose than to be a 
 play-grouDd for its inhabitants ; to which the multitude are 
 rushing with the atheistic language which the apostle puts 
 into the lips of those who deny the resurrection of the dead, 
 " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we die. Young men, 
 we deny you not pleasure, but only say, let it be intellectual 
 and spiritual, rather than sensual ; individual and private, 
 rather than social and public ; economical, rather than ex- 
 pensive ; an occasional recreation and not an habitual pur- 
 suit ; and such as shall rather fit than disqualify you for the 
 business of life. No man will less enjoy pleasure than he 
 who lives for and upon it ; and paradoxical as it may 
 appear, it is true, — the way to cDJoy pleasure is not to love 
 it to a passionate excess, but to partake it ever in modera- 
 tion. Honey, and other luscious sweets, will do to taste, 
 but not to live or feast upon. Cyprian beautifully remarks 
 that, " The greatest pleasure is to have conquered pleasure." 
 I repeat the impressive proverb, '* He that loveth pleasure 
 shall be a poor man ;" for it is an expensive taste which 
 grows, like every other, by indulgence. It will make you 
 poor in youth, poor in manhooa, poor in old age ; and 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 63 
 
 tills is a poverty wblch no one will pity, or be forward ta 
 relieve. 
 
 Thirdly. — I will now lay before you the state of mind 
 which befits you in this critical juncture of your history. I 
 deliberately select that phrase, critical juncture. It is such 
 whether you think so or not, — most critical ; and something 
 will be gained by this discourse, if it only bring you in sober 
 seriousness to respond to the expression, and say, " Yes, J 
 am now, I own it, feel it, and will reflect upon it, in the 
 crisis of my temporal and eternal destiny." Indeed this, I 
 will confess, is my main object and my largest hope in these 
 discourses. I have not touched upon controversy, as I have 
 already intimated ; nor is it my aim to suggest or supply 
 topics of abstract thought or speculative inquiry : neither is 
 it my purpose, if it were in my power, to gratify your curi- 
 osity by novelty, your imagination by taste, nor your love of 
 dialectics by logic. Time is too short, life too important, to 
 be all spent upon such things. I have other purposes and 
 aims — I want to make you morally reflective on your life 
 and condition — upon your character and conduct — upon your 
 present and future means and plans of action, usefulness, 
 and happiness. I am ambitious to check the levity and 
 thoughtlessness with which so many are entering upon the 
 most momentous period of their existence ; and without 
 producing an unnatural gravity or gloom, and without even 
 extinguishing the joyousness, happiness, and buoyancy of 
 youth — still to make you deeply feel how solemn and event- 
 ful is the period of entering life. Remember, that as the 
 hour of reflection increases with your years, so the habit 
 should strent^then also, and that if it should have awakened 
 eolemn thoughtfulness, to consider that you were ahont to 
 
64 THE YOUNG IJAn's FRIEND. 
 
 enter life, it should excite no less apprebensiveness to con 
 sider that you have actually started in the eventful race. 
 But still this thoughtfulness should embrace some specific 
 subjects, determine in some active habits, and take some 
 practical form and direction. Nothing can be less likely to 
 be serviceable to you than a dreamy pensiveness — a moody 
 and morbid imaginativeness — a disposition to speculate upon 
 the probabilities of life — and to spend that time in creating 
 suppositious conditions, which should be employed in meet- 
 ino- the real ones. The thouo-htfulncss that I inculcate is not 
 that which supplants action, but prepares for it, incites to it, 
 and guides in safety through it. 
 
 I will now take up, and place before you, the only special 
 direction which the apostle Paul lays down for the guidance 
 of your conduct, " Young men exhort to be sober-minded." 
 The very injunction supposes that this is a state of mind not 
 only peculiarly necessary for young men, but in which they 
 are usually deficient. Now do not be alarmed at the expres- 
 sion, and " recoil from it as from something which could 
 come only from, and is suitable only to old time-worn people, 
 whose feelings are dried up into a kind of cold and stifiened 
 prudence, which they wish to have reputed as wisdom ; 
 persons who having sufiered the extinction of all vivacity in 
 themselves, envy the young for possessing what they have 
 lost. A dull, heavy, spiritless, formal, and calculating thing ; 
 almost mechanical in all pursuits and interests ; the type of 
 a persoUj narrow in his notions, plodding in his operations, 
 gloomy in his aspect, and placed wholly out of sympathy 
 with everything partaking of ardor, sensibility, adventure, 
 and enthusiasm, and at- the same time taking great credit to 
 himself for all this. No ; we may be quite si^re that Paul's 
 
1!;NTERING LIFE. 55 
 
 ^ sober-minded young men,' were not to be examples of a 
 sapient formality, of a creeping prudence, of extinguished 
 passions, of a cold aversion to animated interest,^ — in short, 
 not examples of the negation of everything that is really 
 graceful and excellent in youth."* 
 
 What then did he mean? What is sobriety of mind? 
 The predominance of true religion and sound reason over 
 vice and folly — temper and fancy — imagination and passion- 
 — absurdity and extravagance. It is, in short, the mastery, 
 by judgment, of the imagination, which is so apt to master 
 the young man. Imagination, in the minority of reason, is 
 the regent of the soul. Almost every thing is looked at, 
 judged of, and ruled by, this mis-calculating faculty, which 
 is rendered more dangerous by the ardor of passion. Things 
 thus seen through a wrons: medium are distorted and dis- 
 colored. Evils and dangers which to other eyes appear in 
 all their magnitude of mischief, appear to the young, if 
 indeed they appear at all, reduced to almost invisible spots ; 
 while little things on the side of good, are swelled out of all 
 proportion, and adorned with the brightest hues with which 
 fancy can invest them. Hope, untutored and unchecked by 
 knowledge of the world and experience, is ever building 
 castles in the air, and treating as certainties, what all besides 
 perceive to be absolute improbabilities. Now cobriety of 
 mind is reason attaining to its majority, sanctified by reli- 
 gion, ascending the throne of the soul to take the sceptre 
 out of the hand of imagination. It means a capability of 
 forming a right estimate of things as they really are. This, 
 young men, is what you need, but of which persons of your 
 age are often lamentably destitute. 
 
 But I will select one or two subjects which sobriety of 
 
 * Lectures by John Foster on Sober-mindedneics. 
 3* 
 
56 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 mind will especially bring under consideration, and of which 
 it will lead you to form correct ideas. 
 
 — It will above all things lead you to a serious and devout 
 consideration of the supreme end of life, I say tha 
 supreme^ the chief end of human existence ; since there are 
 many subordinate ones arising out of our numerous and com- 
 plex relations. Pause and ponder this question then, " What 
 is the supreme end of existence ?" Mark well the subject ; 
 it is not what are all the ends of existence, but what is the 
 supreme end — life's great business — the one thing needful, 
 which being accomplished, whatever else we have missed, we 
 still have not lived in vain ; but which not having secured, we 
 have lived in vain, gain whatever else we may. What is it I 
 say ? Your errand, your object ? Surely, surely, if anything 
 be worthy of the attention of a living, rational creature, it 
 must be the object of life : and if at any time, at the begin- 
 ning of life. Proceed not another hour — take up no plan, 
 no purpose, no pursuit, till you have settled the question, 
 ^' What is the supreme end of life .^" Whatever it be it must 
 combine all the following characteristics, — it must be some- 
 thing lawful, which God and your conscience approve — some- 
 thing appropriate to your character and circumstances, and 
 to all the changing scenes of life — something attainable — 
 something worthy your existence — something adapted to 
 satisfy the desires of an immortal mind, and make you con- 
 tented and happy — something which shall aid rather than 
 hinder you in accomplishing all the subordinate ends of 
 existence — something which shall combine your present with 
 your everlasting destiny — something, in short, which God 
 himself has fixed upon and proposed to you, as His supreme 
 end in your creation. Is not this true ? Must not the great 
 end combine all these characteristics 1 Answer me. Must it 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 67 
 
 not ? "What then, I ask, can do this hut true religion ? And 
 this does. Here, then, is the great end of life — that religion 
 which leads to the salvation of the immortal soul, — to glory, 
 honor, immortality, and eternal life. " Compared with this, 
 the objects of earthly ambition, which engage the attention 
 and engross the affections of many in public life, are all vain, 
 empty, and unprofitable. The eager strifes and ephemeral 
 victories of political leaders ; the feverish dreams of the 
 wealthy capitalist and the commercial adventurer, seem little 
 better than toys and baubles. The sportive swarms of in- 
 sects floating in the sun-beams of a summer evening, appear 
 to be a fit emblem of our vast cities and their busy crowds." 
 Believe, then, that the only supreme end worth living for, is 
 an end which shall endure, an end which can never perish. 
 Don't squander so precious a boon as life upon secondary 
 objects. Throw not away your immortal soul, — a jewel 
 compared with which " the Mountain of Light," the noblest 
 production of the diamond mines, and the richest trophy of 
 our oriental conquests, is a thing of nought, — upon the poor 
 perishing objects of an earthly ambition. 
 
 Sobriety of mind will lead you also to consider the short- 
 ness and uncertainty of life, and the necessity of being ever 
 prepared to surrender the precious gift ; and prepared by 
 having secured that which is of the highest importance. 
 The man who has achieved the chief end, is prepared at any 
 moment to give up in death the subordinate ends ; while he 
 who has sought only the subordinate ones, is never ready to 
 give them up. He who has true piety, however young he 
 may die, has effectually accomplished the chief purpose of 
 his creation ; while he who neglects religion, whatever of 
 rank, wealth, honor, or even earthly usefulness, he may have 
 acquired, and however long he may live to enjoy them, has 
 
58 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 missed the chief end of his being ; and if he were aware of 
 his folly, and confessed it, would say his life had been a lost 
 adventure. 
 
 Equally true is it, that such a state of mind requires the 
 adoption of the principles necessary to secure the end of 
 life — in other words, true religion. A strong habitual faith 
 in the Bible — in God — in Christ — in Providence — in judg- 
 ment — in heaven and hell. Faith not only expresses itself 
 in worship, in religious emotions, in zeal, in alms-deeds, but 
 in enlightened and tender conscientiousness both towards 
 God and man, and in a systematic and strong restraint upon 
 the passions, fancy, temper, and appetites. 
 
 In entering, then, upon life, take religion with you. This 
 will ensure you the protection of omnipotence ; the guidance 
 of omniscience ; the companionship of omnipresence ; the 
 supplies of all-sufficiency. It will fill your intellect with 
 the thoughts of God's own mind, and your soul with the joy 
 of God's own heart, and thus furnish you at once with the 
 supreme truth and the chief good. It will set before you 
 the most perfect examples and the strongest motives to the 
 practice of holiness and virtue. It will add the sanctity of 
 the Christain to the virtue of the moralist, and mingle its 
 own heavenly pleasures with the pure delights of earth. It 
 will prepare you either for success or failure in business, and 
 preserve you equally from the snares of prosperity and the 
 withering blasts of adversity. It will be your nurse in sick- 
 ness, your companion in solitude, and your preserver amidst 
 the corruptions of society. It will be your shield against 
 the temptations to sin, and the insiduous attacks of infidelity 
 end false philosophy. It will go with you across the sea, 
 and dwell with you in a foreign land, if called by Providence 
 to leave your native country, or make you honorable and 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 50 
 
 useful members of the community, if you remain at home. 
 It will be the guide of your youth, the protector of your 
 mediaeval life, and the prop of your old age. It will prepare 
 you for early death, or for a multitude of years. It will 
 smooth the pillow of death, by giving you immortal hopes 
 amidst the dissolution of nature — will rise with you from the 
 grave in that day when death shall be swallowed up in 
 victory, and having put you in possession of glory, honor, 
 immortality, and eternal life, shall dwell in your soul for- 
 ever, as the chief element of your heavenly and immortal 
 felicity. 
 
 But still I would not forget that there are things on earth, 
 to be attended to as well as thino;s in heaven : and religion, 
 as we have already said, neither detaches you from them nor 
 unfits you for them : and next to this due regard to the 
 claims of God, and as a part of them, industry and diligence 
 in business are indispensable. Honesty to your employers 
 requires this. You have contracted with them for so much 
 stipend, to give them your time, the faculties of your mind, 
 and the organs and members of your body. That man who 
 does not serve his employer to the best of his ability, is to 
 all intents and purposes a thief, not by robbing his master's 
 goods, but his time ; and I would give nothing for his moral 
 principle who can defraud his employer even of this. It is 
 not, however, merely in this light that I speak now of indus- 
 try, but as your own safeguard : 
 
 " For Satan finds some mischief still 
 For idle hands to do." 
 
 Our idle days are his busy ones. An indolent young man 
 invites temptation, and will soon become a prey to it. 
 Indolence unmans the faculties, impairs and debilitates the 
 
GC THE YOUXO man's FRIEND. 
 
 whole intellectual system. One way or other, be always 
 employed. An idle man is the most miserable of all God's 
 creatures ; a contradiction to nature, where nothing is at 
 rest. Among all other habits that you form, next to religion, 
 the most valuable acquisition is a habit of activity. This 
 must be got in youth, or never. Keep the ethereal fire of 
 your soul alive and glowing by action. The diligent man is 
 the protected man. Temptation comes and addresses him, 
 but he is pre-occupied ; he says, *' I am too busy to attend 
 to you." Not only have occupation, but love it. Let your 
 mind take a pleasure and a pride in its own action. Nature, 
 it is said, abhors a vacuum, and if nature does not, you 
 should. 
 
 Fourthly: — Let me now lay before you a few opposite 
 extremes^ which in passing through life, it is necessary you 
 should avoid ; and with which, when just entering upon it, 
 you should be intimately acquainted. 
 
 Avoid, then, on the one hand, a depressing solicitude, and 
 on the other, an utter carelessness and lethargic indiflPerence 
 about the future — a disposition to distress the mind by the 
 question, '* How am I to get on .^" or in the opposite ex- 
 treme, a total destitution of all forethought, or care about 
 the matter. The former is not only a distrust of Providence, 
 but it defeats its own ends, by wasting those energies of 
 mind in useless care, which should be employed in prepara- 
 tory productive action : while the latter casts away that 
 partial pre -science which is given to us for wise and gracious 
 purposes. Be hopeful, but not sanguine ; moderate, but not 
 indififerent. Let your expectations be sufficiently high to 
 encourage exertion, but not so extravagant as to bewilder 
 them. 
 
 Equally to be avoided, as connected with this, is inordinate 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 61 
 
 ambition to rise in life, and the opposite extreme of that lo\v 
 and creeping satisfaction with thinojs as they are, which is 
 rather the result of an indolent and abject mind, than of a 
 contented one. The determination by any and by all mean? 
 to get on, and the lazy disposition to use none, are equi-dis- 
 tant from moral excellence. Determine to do all that skill, 
 industry, frugality, and honorable principle can accomplish 
 in the way of advancement, and nothing more. Set out in 
 life thoroughly convinced of the truth of the apostolic declar- 
 ation, " They that will be rich, fall into temptation and a 
 snare, and into many foolish and hurtful lusts, which drown 
 men in destruction and perdition. For the love of money is 
 the root of all evil, which while some coveted after, they 
 have pierced themselves through with many sorrows." 
 Young men, guard against this low, sordid, mischievous 
 appetite — this coveting of wealth for its own sake : and 
 which is determined to get it — if by fair means, well, if not 
 by foul means. Begin your career of honest and honorable 
 industry, with the poet's prophetic, sarcastic aphorism, be- 
 fore your eyes, 
 
 "That loudest laugh of hell, the pride of dying rich." 
 
 Guard against the self-diffidence, distrust, and despond- 
 ency, which would lead you to form too low an opinion of 
 your own capability and resources, and the complacent self- 
 reliance, confidence, and canceit, which would lead you to 
 think you can do every thing. While you do not lean alto- 
 gether upon your own understanding, and trust implicitly to 
 your own heart, remember they can both do something for 
 you, and are both to be employed. Start upon the journey 
 of life with the conviction that you can, with God's help and 
 blessing do something — yea, much for yourself. Have f^iith 
 
62 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 in God first of all — and next to this, have faith in yourselves 
 as God-sustained. Enter into the apostle's words — catch 
 their spirit — imitate their union of personal activity, and con- 
 fidence, and divine dependence, " Through Christ strength- 
 cnino^ me I can do all thino-s." 
 
 Take heed against flexibility of principle, purpose, and 
 character, in reference to what is right, and obstinate perse- 
 verance in what is wrong. Be master of yourself. Have a 
 will of your own. Be governed by your own convictions 
 Knowing what is right, do it, though you stand alone, and 
 though the world laugh in a chorus. Possess a due degree 
 of moral courage, which while it leaves you in possession of 
 a true shame of doing what is wrong, shall extinguish all 
 false shame of doing what is right. It is a noble sight to 
 behold a young man stand, with his back against the wall 
 of truth, and then with the shield of faith, repel the arrows 
 of a multitude of assailants. Be an oak, not an osier. Let 
 it be seen that you can resist the force of persuasion — the 
 influence of oratory — the contagion of sympathy with numbers 
 — the ridicule of the witty — and the sarcasms of the scorn- 
 ful. It is a great, and a good, and a glorious thing, to be 
 able in some circumstances to say, " No ;" and to stand by 
 it. On the other hand, it is no less great, and good, and 
 glorious, to say, " Yes, I am wrong," when charged with 
 an error, and convinced that we have committed one. An 
 obstinate perseverance in a bad course, to avoid the shame 
 and humiliation of confessing that we are wrong, is neither 
 dignity nor greatness of mind, but stubborn imbecility ; the 
 obstinacy of a brute — under the direction not so much of 
 the reason, as the will, of a man. 
 
 Avoid a total indiflference to the good opinion of others, 
 and equally a craving after admiration and applause. Seek 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 63 
 
 to be approved rather than to be admired. Covet the 
 esteem of the wise and the good ; but do not hunger after 
 the indiscriminate praise of any and every one. Rather seek 
 to be excellent, than desire to be thought so. To wish, 
 however, to stand well with those whose praise is virtuous, 
 is lawful ; but to be ever anxious for the admiration of others 
 is contemptible. The former is itself an exercise of virtue, 
 the other an offering at the shrine of vanity. G-uard against 
 this vanity, it will make you far more solicitous about praise 
 than principle, and make you willing to sacrifice the one 
 for the other. 
 
 Avoid the extremes of credulity and suspicion in refer- 
 ence to mankind, of trusting every body, as if all were 
 worthy of your confidence, and of trusting nobody, as if all were 
 knaves. Be cautious whom you trust, but do not suppose 
 that every one will betray you. It is well to be reserved, but 
 not to be suspicious — to be prudent, but not misanthropic. 
 On the other hand, as the danger of the young lies rather 
 in being too frank, open and ingenuous, than too retiring and 
 exclusive, study well the character of every, or any one, 
 before you give them your confidence. 
 
 Fifthly. — Perhaps I cannot do better than add to all I 
 have said, a few maxims, which may be considered as con- 
 densing some parts of the substance of this sermon, and 
 which, as most easily remembered, may be of some service 
 to you in your progress through life. 
 
 Your future history and character will be in great mea- 
 sure of your own making — therefore pause and consider 
 what you will make yourself. 
 
 What you would be in future, that begin to be at once 
 for the future is not at a great distance, but close at hand ; 
 the moment next to the present is the future ; and the nex< 
 action helps to make the future character. 
 
64 THE YOUNG- man's friend. 
 
 "While you consult your friends on every important step, 
 which is at once your duty and your privilege, rely less upon 
 them than upon yourself; and ever combine self-reliance 
 with dependence upon God, whose assistance and blessing 
 come in the way of your own industry. 
 
 If setting out in life in the possession of property, let 
 your dependence for success after all, be less upon this, than 
 upon industry. Industry creates capital, but capital to begin 
 with, has in many cases impaired industry and made a man 
 careless and improvident.] 
 
 Consider the importance of the first wrong step. That 
 first leads to many others, and may be more easily avoided 
 than every one that follows. 
 
 True religion, which means the habitual fear of God and 
 sin, is your best friend for both worlds ; multitudes owe their 
 all to it ; and multitudes more that have been ruined by 
 vice, folly, and extravagance, would have been saved from 
 all this, had they lived in the fear of God. 
 
 They who would live without religion would not die with- 
 out it ; but to enjoy its comforts in death, we must submit 
 to its influence in life ; and they who would have it in life, 
 should seek it in youth. 
 
 The perfection of human character consists of piety, 
 prudence, and knowledge. Make that noble trial your own. 
 
 Whatever specious arguments infidelity may put forth 
 in defence of itself, and whatever objections it may bring 
 against Christianity, hold fast the Bible till the infidel can 
 furnish you a more abundant evidence of truth — a better 
 rule of life — a more copious source of consolation — a surer 
 ground of hope — and a more certain and glorious prospect 
 of immortality. And remember that spiritual religion is a 
 better defence against the seductions of infidelity and false 
 philosophy than the most powerful or subtle logic. 
 
ENTERING LIFE. 65 
 
 Enter upon life as you would wish to retire from it, and 
 spend time on earth as you would wish to spend eternity in 
 heaven. 
 
 I now leave the subject for your most devout and serious 
 reflection. Entering into life ! How weighty the 
 phrase — how momentous the consideration — how solemn the 
 anticipation ! A hundred million perhaps of your fellow- 
 creatures are at this moment like you entering into life. 
 What an infinity of weal and woe is bound up in the history 
 of that vast aggregate of human beings. But this, all this, 
 is of less consequence to you than that one life on which you 
 are entering. For in the history of our world — in the con- 
 vulsions of nations — in the revolutions of empires — in the 
 stream of universal history — yea, in the chronicles of all 
 other worlds than your own — there is less to affect your 
 happiness, than in that one life which is before you. You 
 are in life — you cannot go back — you must go on. Whether 
 you shall exist or not, is not left to your option, it is a 
 question settled — you are in being, never, no never, to go 
 out of it. What you have to determine is — and oh ! what a 
 determination — How existence shall be spent, and whether 
 it shall be an infinite and eternal blessing, or an infinite and 
 eternal curse. In view of such a career, let me, with an 
 importunity which words are too meaningless to express, 
 beseech you to take up the language of the text, as the rule 
 of your conduct, — " In all thy ways acknowledge 
 Him, and He shall direct thy paths." 
 
THE YOUNG MAN ENTERING LIFE UNDECIDED 
 IN RELIGION. 
 
 " And Elijah came unto all the people, and said how long halt ye 
 between two opinions ? If the Lord be God, follow him ; but if Baal, 
 then follow him."— 1 Kings xviii. 21. 
 
 The scene to which the text refers, and of which it forms 
 a part, is one of the most sublime and the most important 
 to be found in the whole range of universal history — being 
 no less than the great trial between true and false religion 
 in answer to the challenge of Elijah, and which terminated 
 so gloriously in the complete triumph of the former. A 
 strange and almost incurable propensity to idolatry has ever 
 been evinced by the human race, obviously springing from 
 that depravity of their nature which made them crave after 
 deities congenial to their own moral taste. The spirituality 
 and purity of the true God offended them. They could not 
 be content with a religion of which faith was the great prin- 
 ciple of action ; but coveted objects of worship which could 
 be presented to the senses, and which would be tolerant of 
 their vices. Among the idol gods of antiquity, Baal sustained 
 a distinguished place,* Such is the power of example, espe- 
 
 * The name Eaal is a common appellative, and was originally em- 
 ployed to designate the true God ; but when idolatry arose, it was ap. 
 
INDECISION IN IlELIGICUS CHARACTER. 67 
 
 cially when it falls in with our corrupt inclinations, that the 
 Jews, notwithstanding the revelation they had received froii 
 God, and the care he took to preserve them from the abomi- 
 nations of the surrounding nations, often forsook the worship 
 of Jehovah for idols, or attempted to incoporate idolatry 
 with Judaism. The kingdom of the ten tribes was in this 
 respect the most guilty. Ahab, one of the wickedest of their 
 monarchs, had married Jezebel, the daughter of the king of 
 the Zidonians, by whom Baal was worshipped. Through the 
 influence of this wicked woman, the worship of Baal was 
 patronized to a enormous extent in the kingdom of Israel. 
 
 pYied to the various objects of false worship. It is supposed by some 
 that as the worship of the heavenly bodies was the first departure 
 from the true religion, Baal was the representative of the sun. This 
 was the God of the Phoenicians, Carthaginians, the Assyrians, Babylo- 
 nians, and indeed of many other nations ; by whom he was variously 
 designated Baal, Belus, or Bel. This deity, under other names, was 
 probably the Chronos of the Greeks, and the Saturn of the Latins. It 
 is a little remarkable that we do not find the name Baal in use east of 
 Babylonia, but it was general west of it, to the very extremity ot 
 Europe, including the British Isles. The worship of Bel, Belus, Bele- 
 nus, or Belinus, in an incorporation with Druidical rites, was general 
 throughout the British Islands ; and certain of those rites and obser- 
 vances are still maintained among us, notwithstanding the establish- 
 ment of Christianity through so many ages. A town in Perthshire is 
 called Tilliebeltane, i. e., the rising-ground of the fire of Baal. In Ire- 
 land, Bel-tein is celebrated on the twenty-first of June at the time of 
 the sols-tice. A fire is kindled on the tops of the hills, and the mem- 
 bers of the families pass through the fire, which they account a sign 
 and means of good fortune for the year. Bel-tein is also observed in 
 Lancashire. In North Wales, a similar ceremony is now observed on 
 the first of November, when the people run through the fire and smoke, 
 each one casting a stone into the fire. If this be correct, we have still 
 the relics of Baal among us at the distance of more than three thousand 
 years. This is a curious fact in archaeology. See Watson's Biblical 
 Dictionary. 
 
G8 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 Against this abomination the prophet Elijah, with the dauntlcsr 
 courage of a reformer, set himself in determined opposition 
 After reproving the monarch and rousing against him the 
 malignity of Jezebel who sought his destruction, he sent a 
 challenge to Ahab, to put the claims of Baal and Jehovah tc 
 a fair and decisive test. In an evil hour for the credit of 
 Baal, the challenge was accepted : the scene of contest was 
 the solitudes of Mount Carmel, overlooking the Mediterra- 
 nean sea : the decision was to be made by each party pre- 
 paring a sacrifice, and calling upon their God to answer by 
 fire. It was an august and awful spectacle ; the question to 
 be determined was to whom rightly belongs the throne of 
 Deity. There on one side were Baal's priests, arranged in 
 troops, to the number of four hundred and fifty, patronized 
 by the monarch and his wife, full of confidence, and flushed 
 with hopes of victory. On the other appeared one solitary 
 man — unaccompanied — unbefriended — unpatronized — un- 
 protected by a single individual that was visible to the eye 
 of sense. That solitary individual was Elijah, the prophet 
 of the Lord. Calm and undismayed : strong in the Lord 
 and in the power of his might ; assured of the triumph that 
 awaited him ; he surveyed the array of priests, the frown of 
 Ahab, and the malignant eye of Jezebel flashing fury and 
 revenge. What dignity in his looks, and what majesty in 
 his deportment. The congregated thousands of Jewish 
 spectators witnessed, in awful silence, the preparations. 
 Heaven, with serene confidence, and hell, with dread and 
 dismay, watched a scene, which not only for that occasion, 
 but for all time, was to decide whether Jehovah or Baal was 
 the true God. How much was at stake — what interests 
 were involved — what a question was to be decided ! One 
 can imagine all nature was hushed in dread suspense — that 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 69 
 
 the waves of the Mediterranean ceased to roll — that the 
 winds of heaven were still — that the forests of Carmel were 
 listening. In this critical moment of our world's moral 
 history, the prophet broke the solemn silence which reigned 
 for a while over the scene. Advancing to the assembled 
 multitude of Israelites, he said, " How long halt ye between 
 two opinions ? If the Lord be God, follow him ; if Baal, 
 then follow him. Ye are not yet in conviction, .quite alien- 
 ated from the Lord God of your fathers, the God of Abra- 
 ham, and Isaac, and Jacob ; but your allegiance is shaken, 
 and you are divided in opinion and practice between 
 Jehovah and Baal. Your irresolution is as guilty as your 
 suspense must be painful ; and your indecision is as uncom- 
 fortable as it is dishonorable and wicked. Ye worship 
 Baal. I worship God. I am here to prove which has the 
 rightful claim to your fealty and obedience* Upon that 
 which 1 now propose 1 will rest the issue of the present 
 contest. Let each party prepare a sacrifice, and call upon 
 his God ; and the God who answers by fire, let him be con- 
 sidered as the true God." You know the sequel;* and I 
 drop the narrative, only turning back for one moment to 
 dwell upon the indecision of the people : they halted between 
 two opinions. Yoio wonder at their indecision, and conJemu 
 them with language of severest reprobation ; and very 
 justly so. But do you not in this also condemn yourselves ? 
 Are not you undecided in a case which if not so palpable to 
 the senses, is no less plain to the judgment ? 
 
 * Iiifidel wits have flippantly asked, '' Where did the people get the 
 water to fill the trenches at the command of the prophet, since the 
 drought had caused all the water of the land to fail ?" They forget, 
 as they generally do, when they offer skeptical observations, the one 
 main fact of the case, that the scene of the contest was very near the 
 sea-shore. 
 
70 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 But before I describe the nature, and pronounce the char- 
 acter of your indecision, let me set before you the opposing 
 parties in reference to which it is maintained. This house 
 shall be to you what Mount Carmel was to the assembled 
 Israelites — the place of challenge, of trial, and decision. 
 There on the one hand is the Lord God of Hosts, the 
 Jehovah of the Jews, under the fuller and clearer manifesta- 
 tion of himself, as the God and Father of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ — there is his minister, demanding the acknowledg- 
 ment of his claims — and there is laid down his service in the 
 faith, hope, and love of the gospel. On the other side is the 
 modern Baal, in all the various forms under which he presents 
 himself as the object of human idolatry. It is true you are 
 not called, invited, or disposed, to bow the knee to idols of 
 wood, stone, or metal, either graven or molten — either in the 
 fascinating forms of classic mythology ; the rude images of 
 barbarous worship ; or the grotesque and monstrous crea- 
 tions of Hindoo polytheism. These, however, are not the 
 only ways in which idolatry may be practised. What, in fact, 
 are most of the objects of false worship but the evil qualities 
 and passions of man's fallen nature — visible embodiments of 
 his own lusts and pleasures exalted to the skies, to be thence 
 reflected back with Olympian charms and splendors ; or 
 sent down to the infernals, to receive the stamp of their 
 authority and malignity, and to come from either place with 
 a sanction and a power to make men wicked .? Every one 
 has a god, and if man does not love and worship Jehovah, 
 he will make a deity of his own image, and this deity cannot 
 surpass himself. 
 
 Survey, young men, the idols which you are called upon 
 from many quarters to worship, and between which and the 
 only living and true God — O unutterable folly and sin ! — you 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 7l 
 
 are hesitatiDg. Among them, sustaining a high place, istho 
 
 idol of SENSUALITY, 
 
 " That reeling goddess, with a zoneless waist," 
 
 decked out with all that can pollute the imagination, inflama 
 the passions, or excite the propensities of a youthful heart. 
 Before this image multitudes of devotees of both sexes bow 
 the kuee and offer the most costly sacrifices of property, 
 health, principle, and reputation. Near this is the bewitch- 
 ing and smiling image of worldly pleasure, with the sound 
 of music, the song, and the dance, alluring the giddy and 
 thoughtless to its orgies, and thus throwing the spell of its 
 fascinations over the imagination of multitudes who go 
 merrily to their ruin. Mammon, the sordid deity of wealth 
 is there, glittering with gold, and offering riches to its eager 
 followers as the rewards of their diligent and faithful adher- 
 ence. Its liturgy is the cry of *' money, money, money ;" 
 and its sacrifices — notwithstanding its large promises of 
 happiness — the time, the bodies, the soul, the principles, 
 and the comfort of its worshippers ; and its officials are the 
 greedy speculators and commercial adventurers of our 
 country and our age. There is also the Baal of infidel 
 SPECULATION, with falsc philosophy as its high priest to 
 conduct the ceremonial ; and by the promises of intellectual 
 freedom from the shackles of superstition, inviting the 
 youthful aspirants after mental liberty, to come into its 
 service. Near this is the shrine of general knowledge. 
 This, however, is evil only when it is raised into the place 
 of faith, piety, and virtue ; but which when it is thus exalt- 
 ed above the knowledge of revelation, is the Minerva of the 
 idolatrous Pantheon. Nor must we leave out the idols of 
 FALSE RELIGION, the chicf of wMch is Popery — the antir- 
 4 
 
72 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 Christ of the Apocalypse — the Man of Sin" described by 
 the apostle, as " sitting in the temple of God and exalting 
 itself above all that is called Grod." This idol, taking tho 
 name of Christ as its designation, assuming the cross as its 
 symbol, and boasting of an apostle as its chief minister ; 
 enriched by wealth — venerable for antiquity — dignified by 
 learning — decorated by sculpture, architecture, and painting 
 — and which adding the profoundest policy, and most ser- 
 pentine craft, to all these other dangerous qualities, has 
 fascinated countless millions ; and notwithstanding the mon- 
 strous absurdity of its doctrines, the blood-stained page of its 
 history, and its hostility to the liberties of mankind — is now 
 putting forth the most arrogant claims, and making the most 
 audacious attempts, for the conquest of our country. 
 
 Such are the principal idols which oppose themselves to 
 the King, eternal, immortal, invisible, as the claimants of 
 your heart. Such are the objects which have induced an 
 iudetermination in your minds whether you shall serve them 
 or your Creator, Preserver, and Benefactor. 
 
 By the undecided in religion I do not intend the confirmed 
 infidel, profligate, or scoffer ; or those who live in total and 
 absolute rejection of religion. These are not undecided ; 
 they are in the fullest sense decided ; they have made up 
 their minds, though unhappily on the wrong side. They 
 have chosen their God, and are the determined and devoted 
 worshippers of Baal. They are decided irreligionists. They 
 have hardened their hearts, seared their consciences, and 
 perhaps outlived all misgivings upon the subject, except it 
 be an occasional qualm in a season of dying or of sickness. 
 They even congratulate themselves upon their having thrown 
 off all the weaknesses and fears of superstition, and upon 
 their being now enabled to pursue their downward course 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. /3 
 
 nnchocked by the restraint of conscience, unterrified by the 
 spectres of imagination. Unhappy men — blind, and glorying 
 in their blindness — benumbed in all their moral faculties, 
 and exulting in this dreadful paralysis — with every tie cut 
 that held them to a Life of piety and feeling, and accounting 
 it a privilege that they are drifting unobstructed to perdition 
 — determined to be lost, and rejoicing that nothing now 
 crosses their path to perdition. 
 
 The undecided inan, generally considered, is the irresolute 
 man — the man thinking of two things, but absolutely choos- 
 ing, with full and practical purpose, neither — the double- 
 minded man — the man who is like a light substance ever 
 floating between two objects, now carried by force of the 
 tide towards one, and then towards the other. 
 
 Perhaps tho subject of indecision will be better under- 
 stood if we consider its opposite, and show what is meant by 
 decision. By decision in religion I do not mean merely the 
 choice of a creed, or a decision between conflicting theories 
 of religious opinions. This is all very well, and very proper, 
 and to a certain extent is involved in the decision I am 
 recommending. A man ought not to be undecided either in 
 regard to religious doctrine, or ecclesiastical polity. It is 
 incumbent upon him to make up his mind on the question 
 at issue between the advocates and opponents of secular 
 establishments of religion ; between the unitarian and trini- 
 iarian views of the Scriptures, and other theological mat- 
 ters. These things are important, and his opinions should 
 be formed and fixed upon the ground of satisfactory evidence, 
 and his mind being once made up, he should hold fast what 
 he believes to be truth, nor allow his convictions to be 
 shaken by the difiiculties, sophistries, and plausibilities 
 brought against the views he has espoused. Religion 
 
74 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 however, is something more than opinion — something more 
 than ecclesiastical relationship — something more than cere- 
 mony — it is not only light, but life — its seat is not only in 
 the head, but in the heart — it is a thing of the will, affec- 
 tions, and conscience, as well as of the intellect, and 
 memory, and bodily organs. It is deep conviction of guilt 
 in the sight of God — a humbling sense of corruption of 
 nature — true faith in Christ as the great atonement — peace 
 through belief in the gospel — supreme gratitude and love to 
 God — a spiritual and heavenly mind — and a holy life. It 
 is the mind of Christ — the image of Grod — the Bible lodged 
 in the heart as the rule of the inward and outer life — a 
 God-wrought, heaven- descended, eternally -living thing. 
 
 To be decided then, is the intelligent, deliberate, volun- 
 tary, entire and habitual yielding up of ourselves, through 
 faith in Christ, and by the aid of the Holy Spirit, to God ; 
 to enjoy His favor as the chief good, to make His will our 
 fixed supreme rule, and His glory the chief end of our ex- 
 istence. It is making God the supreme object — salvation 
 the supreme business — eternity the supreme aim. Not talk- 
 ing about it — wishing it — intending it — but conscientiously 
 doing it. Such a man says, " I have made up my mind — I 
 am resolved — I am for God — for Christ — for holiness — for 
 salvation — for heaven — for eternity — my heart is fixed." 
 
 To be W7idecided is to be in a state of hesitancy, irreso- 
 luteness, unfixedness. An undecided man is occasionally 
 impressed ; at other times in a state of total indifference. 
 His judgment inclines to religion, and sometimes nearly 
 draws round his heart. He goes out half-way to meet it : 
 then turns back again. Now he looks towards true Chris- 
 tians as the happiest people, then he hankers after the 
 company and amusements of the people of the world. He 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 75 
 
 cannot quite give up the suLject, nor can he fully embrace 
 it. He has occasional impressions and wishes, but no fixed, 
 deliberate choice. In this hesitating, undecided, irresolute 
 state of mind, very many are to be found. Yes — indecision 
 is fearfully common ; perhaps among those whom I now 
 address, the most common state of mind. Comparatively 
 few are decidedly pious — still fewer, I hope and believe, 
 decidedly infidel or immoral ; the bulk are mid-way between 
 the two — hesitating, halting, turning away/ro7?i the one, but 
 not turning to the other. How shall we account for this } 
 
 It is not for the want of adequate information on the nature 
 of the two claimants and the justice of their respective 
 claims. Of this you have all possible and necessary partic- 
 ulars in the Scriptures. You are not left to the dim twi- 
 light of nature and the deductions of your own weak and 
 fallible reason. The sun of revelation has risen upon you in 
 full-orbed splendor, and walking amidst his noon-tide glory, 
 you see on every hand the character and the claims of God 
 You know not only there is a God, but who and what he is 
 
 You are not destitute of natural ability — you are mit hin- 
 dered by Divine sovereignty — there is no invincible power 
 of natural depravity — you cannot plead a want of time, 
 means, opportunity — you do not justify and perpetuate it on 
 the ground of Scriptural difficulties — nor on the inconsisten- 
 cies of professors. Sometimes you may feel inclined to 
 plead these things, but the plea is soon given up.- No, the 
 causes subsidiary to the power of inward corruption, -are 
 these : — 
 
 Many do not properly consider the necessity of decision^ 
 and the sin of hesitation. The subject has never seriously 
 engaged their attention. If so, it is high time it should. 
 Begin now — God demands it — reason demands it — the im 
 
76 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 portance of the matter demands it. On what is decision s« 
 necessary as on religion ? This is the business of the soul — 
 of salvation — of eternity. 
 
 Not a few are wanting in moral courage^ — they knov* 
 what they ought to be and to do — but they have friends, 
 whose frown they dread, or companions from whose laugh 
 they shrink. This is very common : and thus multitudes 
 flee from the frown of man to take shelter under the frown 
 of God, propitiate their friends by the sacrifice of their souls, 
 — throw away religion and salvation to escape from a jest, — 
 and make themselves the laughing-stock of devils, to avoid 
 the ridicule of fools. Young men, will you be jeered out of 
 heaven and salvation } What, be turned from your eagle 
 flight to immortality, by the ridicule of owls and bats } 
 
 In many cases^ some one hesetting sin keeps from decision. 
 That one sin exerts an influence over the whole soul and all 
 its purposes — benumbing its energies, beclouding its moral 
 vision, bewildering its steps, and enfeebling its efibrts. Such 
 persons could give up all but that one sin ; but that they 
 cannot part from. How melancholy, how dreadful, to be 
 willing to perish for that one sin ! Rather than pluck out 
 that right eye, or cut ofi" that right hand, to suffer the loss 
 of the whole body ! How infinitely better and more noble 
 would it be, by one mighty struggle, aided by Divine grace, 
 to burst that chain and decide for God. Consider well, if 
 this is not, the cause of indecision in your case, and if it be, 
 perceive the necessity of your resolutely and immediately 
 directing your vigorous resistance against that hindrance. 
 When you have mastered that mightiest of your spiritual 
 foes, you may then hope that the greatest obstacle is sur- 
 mounted ; and that the subjugation of your other enemies 
 will be a comparatively easy conquest. But till that is done, 
 
INDECISION INT RELIGIOUS CnARACTER. 77 
 
 nothing \nA be done to purpose ; and he that has been haU- 
 ing between two opinions, and wavering in his practice, will 
 be halting and wavering still. 
 
 There are some who^ like Fclix^ have trembledj and dis^ 
 missed the subject for a more convenient season. They give 
 neither a direct negative, nor a direct affirmative, to the soli- 
 citations of judgment and conscience ; but put them aside by 
 saying, " I will think of it when I have opportunity, I am 
 busy nowy Here and there one goes further still, — they 
 intend, actually intend^ to be decided at some time or other* 
 They forget the uncertainty of life — the frailty of human 
 resolutions — the thousand incidents that are continually 
 rising up to occupy and divert attention — the ever increas- 
 ing improbability of coming to a decision if the subject be 
 postponed from the present moment — and above all, the 
 demand of God for immediate decision. Now is the accepted 
 time : now is the day of salvation. There is a world of 
 importance in that seemingly insignificant word, Now. Mil- 
 lions have been ruined for both worlds by overlooking the 
 momentous significance of the all eventful Now. Sermons 
 might be preached — volumes might be written — rhetoric 
 might be employed, to enforce the import of that mono- 
 pyllable Now. Remember " he that is now good will in all 
 probability be better — he that is now bad will become worse 
 — for there are three things that never stand still, vice, 
 virtue, and time." 
 
 Perhaps as a hindrance to decision might be mentioned, 
 mistaken views of what is requisite to come to this state oj 
 mind. Two opposite errors are indulged ; some persons 
 throwing out of consideration the free agency of man, and 
 others the sovereign grace of Grod. The former supposing 
 that man can do nothing, they attempt nothing, but wait 
 
78 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEXD. 
 
 passively for the spirit of God : the latter, on the contrary 
 believing that man is and does every thing in religion with- 
 out God, never seek by prayer nor expect by faith, the aid 
 of the Divine Spirit. Both are wrong, and therefore both 
 fail. In all things, both in nature and in grace, God's doings 
 and man's doings go together. Man works, and God works. 
 Man's efforts are not superseded by Divine grace, nor Divine 
 grace superseded by man's efforts. This dualism which per- 
 vades all things, is especially conspicuous in the Bible, and 
 has its culminating point in the conversion and sanctifica- 
 tion of the human soul as set forth in that wonderful pas- 
 sage, " Work out your salvation with fear and trembling^ for 
 it is God that worketh in you to will and to do of his good 
 pleasure.'^ 
 
 Having stated the causes of indecision, I now go on to 
 consider its characteristics. 
 
 1. Is it not IRRATIONAL ? What is reason given us for 
 but to examine all things that concern us, to weigh evidence 
 to discriminate things that differ, to prove all things, and hold 
 fast that which is good. When man uses his faculties thus, 
 he does what he was designed to do, and answers the end of 
 his being. When he does not, but suffers himself to be 
 swayed and bent different ways, and to float under uncertain- 
 ties, then he forfeits the great prerogative and most distin- 
 guishing advantage of his reasonable nature. The perfection 
 of man is to be like God in his attributes, and among others, 
 in some measure in this glorious one of immutability in that 
 which is good ; but to be irresolute and undecided in this, is 
 to live as much at random, and without hold, as if the breath 
 of the Almighty were not in us. " Indeed, unless reason 
 gives us a fixedness and constancy of action, it is so far from 
 being the glory and privilege of our nature, that it is really 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 79 
 
 its reproach, and makes us lower than ' the horse or mule^ 
 which have no understanding :' for they without that, act 
 always regularly and constantly themselves, under the 
 guidance of instinct, a blind but sure principle." There are 
 two things equ; -distant from sound reason — to decide without 
 evidence, and to remain, in such matters, undecided amidst 
 abundant evidence. To be undecided in religion comes under 
 the latter condemnation. The irrationality of indecision is 
 also in proportion to the importance of the matter to be 
 determined. Young men, I appeal to your understanding 
 against this extreme folly. What, is religion the only 
 matter on which you will not make up your mind ? Religion, 
 which comes to you in God's name, and asserting his claims ? 
 Religion, which affects your own well-being for both worlds ? 
 Religion, which all nations have confessed generally by their 
 rites, ceremonies, and creeds, to be man's supreme interest ? 
 Religion, which relates to the soul and her salvation, eternity, 
 and its unalterable states ? Religion, your highest end of 
 existence, and noblest distinction of reason ? What this, the 
 matter to be left in a state of unsettledness and hesitancy .? 
 When such means and opportunities are furnished for coming 
 to a conclusion ? When the Bible, with all its evidences, 
 doctrines, promises, and precepts, is ever in your hand and 
 appealing to your intellect and heart, your will and conscience, 
 and even your imagination ? When the pulpit and the press 
 are ever calling your attention to the subject, and aiding 
 your inquiries ? Undecided whether you shall be saved 
 or lost for eternity ; whether you shall answer or defeat the 
 end of your existence ? Whether you shall run counter to 
 God's design in bringing you into being, or fall in with his 
 merciful purposes concerning you } Call yoi#thi3 reason ? 
 Talk not to me of your rationality ; boast not to me erf' your 
 
80 
 
 high intellectuality in pursuing literature, science, or the 
 arts : I say, the man who remains undecided in religion — who 
 has not settled the question of God, the soul, salvation, and 
 eternity, is, whatever stores of knowledge he may have 
 acquired, or whatever opinion he may have formed of him- 
 self, a learned maniac, a philosophical lunatic, a scientific 
 idiot. 
 
 2. I go further, and say that indecision in religion is con- 
 tempiible. Whatever may constitute the heauti/ of character, 
 decision is its power. There is something noble and attrac- 
 tive in the spectacle of an individual selecting some one 
 worthy object of pursuit, concentrating upon it the resources 
 and energies of his whole soul ; holding it fast with a tena- 
 city of grasp, and following it with a steadiness of pursuit, 
 which the ridicule of some, the frowns of others, and the 
 ignorant surmises of all, cannot relax : clinging the closer to 
 it for opposition, gaining courage from defeat, and patience 
 from delay. Even where all this decision is displayed in a 
 bad cause, there is something terrifically grand about it. 
 Hence some have fancied that in this way Milton has thrown 
 too much majesty over the character of Satan. In opposi- 
 tion to this, how despicable is indecision. Foster, in his 
 inimitable Essay on Decision of Character, has set forth 
 this in a very striking manner. " A man without decision 
 of character can never be said to belong to himself ; if he 
 dared to say that he did, the puny force of some cause, 
 about as powerful you would have supposed as a spider, may 
 make a capture of the hapless boaster the next moment, 
 and triumphantly exhibit the futility of the determinations 
 by which he was to have proved the independence of his 
 understanding and his will. He belongs to whatever can 
 geize him : and innumerable things do actually verify their 
 
 ^ 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 81 
 
 claims on him, and arrest him as he tries to go along ; aa 
 twigs and chips floating near the edge of a river, are inter- 
 cepted by every weed, and whirled in every little eddy. 
 Having concluded on a design, he may pledge himself to 
 accomplish it, if the hundred diversities of feeling, which 
 may come within the week, will let him. As his character 
 precludes all forethought of his conduct, he may sit and 
 wonder what form and direction his views and actions are 
 destined to take to-morrow ; as a farmer has often to acknow- 
 ledge that the next day's proceedings are at the disposal of 
 winds and clouds." 
 
 True as this is in reference to anything, it is most true in 
 reference to religion. Never, no never, is it so supremely 
 contemptible as in application to this. In such a career and 
 in reference to such an object, to be the slave of imperti- 
 nences — the poor tame victim of every little incident that 
 can arise — the prey of every insignificant yelping cur that 
 can drive you hither and thither with his biteless bark ! O 
 shame, shame upon your understanding, to say nothing of 
 your heart and conscience, when with such a subject as reli- 
 gion to consider and settle, you can allow not merely the 
 most magnificent objects which the world can present, but 
 innumerable, contemptible, and sinful littlenesses, to shake 
 your resolution, to invalidate your purpose, and to keep you 
 halting between two opinions ! It is the last and lowest 
 degree of despicableness for a man thinking about glory, 
 honor, immortality, and eternal life, to allow himself to be 
 brought to a stand, and made to hesitate and halt, by mat- 
 ters of the veriest insignificance. What would have been 
 said of the man who in ancient times hesitated whether ha 
 should become a competitor for the Olympic crown, or for 
 gome paltry office in a Grecian village } Or what would alJ 
 
82 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 the world have said of Julius Caesar had he halted betweeii 
 two opinions, and hesitated whether to pass the Rubicon or 
 give himself up to the celebration of the Saturnalia ? Or 
 what judgment should we have formed of Columbus, if, when 
 meditating the discovery of a new world, he hesitated whether 
 to embark on the Atlantic, or engage in picking up shells 
 on its shore r But what are these instances of folly and 
 littleness, compared with that of the man who halts between 
 the infinite and eternal blessings of religion, and the plea- 
 sures, acquisitions, and possessions of this world ? 
 
 3. Indecision in religion is uncomfortahle. If reason is 
 given us to decide upon modes of action, and if in this matter 
 of religion, revelation furnishes us with rules^ it is most 
 natural we should decide, and altogether unnatural we 
 should remain for another hour in a state of wavering and 
 unsettledness. What is natural is easy, and graceful, and 
 pleasant ; and what is unnatural is always awkward and 
 painful. The natural state for the mind to be ia, is first in- 
 quiry, and then decision. No mind can be serene and 
 peaceful in a state of suspense and incertitude. May I not 
 appeal to uni^^ersal experience for proof, that a man who is 
 acting backwards and forwards — ever divided in opinion — 
 now determining one way and now another — now fixed in 
 purpose, then unsettled and altering the plan — now resolute, 
 now hesitating — and who has thus found no bottom to rest 
 upon, cannot be happy. This is true in reference to every- 
 thing. A mind thus at odds with itself, even in little 
 things, cannot but be very troublesome — and he, therefore, 
 who would consult his own comfort, should by much self- 
 discipline endeavor to rid himself of this instability of action, 
 this infirmity of purpose. I would not, young men, incul- 
 cate the opposite evil of inconsiderate and reckless conduct 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 83 
 
 a headlong course of action begun without examination, and 
 continued without reflection ; and which even when discov- 
 ered to be wrong, is persevered in without alteration, merely 
 for the sake of perseverance, and an unwillingness to confess 
 we are wrong. This is not rational decision, but blind im- 
 pulse and unreflecting obstinacy. The decision I recom • 
 mend is a habit of patient investigation, united with a capa- 
 bility of weighing evidence, and followed by a prompt and 
 resolute determination to do, and to do immediately and 
 perseveringly, the thing which ought to be done. Acquire 
 an ability to say in matters of right, I must, — I can, — I 
 WILL. There is a wonderful potency in these three mono- 
 syllables. Adopt them as the rule of your conduct. 
 
 But 1 now consider the unhappiness of indecision in regard 
 to religion. I repeat the assertion made in reference to 
 other characteristics, the more important the subject is 
 about which this indecision is maintained, the greater must 
 of course be the uneasiness which it produces : and as reli- 
 gion is the most momentous of all subjects, so the uneasiness 
 resulting from it must be greatest. But even here the un- 
 easiness also varies with circumstances. An amiable youth 
 who had not fallen into vice, but has kept entirely within 
 the boundaries of virtue, and has not given his heart to God 
 and made religion his supreme business, may not, and can- 
 not have a poignant remorse for profligacies he has never 
 committed — but even he is uncomfortable ; he knows he is 
 not a Christian, in the spiritual sense of the term. His 
 conscience disturbs him — letters from home make him un- 
 easy — awakening sermons alarm him — in the company of 
 the righteous he is not at home — his neglected Bible, given 
 him perhaps, by a mother's hand, silently reproaches him. 
 He is not happy. How can he be in such circumstances ? 
 
84 . THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 He resolves, breaks bis resolution, and adds to bis uneasi- 
 ness tbe guilt of broken vows. 
 
 In otber cases, tbis indecision is attended witb serious 
 aberrations from tbe patb of sanctity and regularity, tbougb 
 not perbaps of morality. In sucb cases, tbe mind of a 
 youtb wbose beart is not bardened, is often in a state of still 
 more painful disquietude and perturbation. It is an im- 
 pressive trutb, tbat ease of mind, quietness, or ratber insen- 
 sibility of conscience, belongs often ratber to tbe decidedly 
 wicked, tban to tbe undecidedly good : for tbe former may 
 bave bardened and stupified bis conscience so far, till it lets 
 bim alone : but be wbo sins, and repents, and tben sins 
 again, in a continued circle, is sure to be followed in bis 
 miserable rounds witb tbe reproacbes of bis memory and tbe 
 lasbes of bis conscience. " His good fits are but tbe short 
 intervals of bis madness, wbicb serve to let tbe madman into 
 a knowledge of bis own disease ; whereas it would in some 
 kinds of lunacy be much more for bis satisfaction and con- 
 tent if be were mad always " tbe misery of tbat man 
 ■whose life is spent between sinning and repenting — between 
 the impulses of conviction and the drawings of inclination — 
 between the difficulty of forming resolutions, and the guilty 
 consciousness of breaking them — in short, between hopes 
 ever frustrated by disappointment, and fears ever realized 
 by experience. Indecision is its own punishment. 
 
 4. This indecision is in the highest degree sinful. You 
 can see tbis clearly, at once, and impressively, witb regard 
 to the Israelites whom the projrhet addressed on Mount 
 Carmel. What a crime to hesitate for a moment between 
 Baal and Jehovah — to be undetermined whether to servo 
 that dumb idol, or tbe livinsr and true God. You wonder 
 at their stupidity— you are incensed at their impiety. Ycj 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 83 
 
 take sides instantly with the prophet against the people. 
 His zeal is not too burning — his indignation is not too 
 severe — his irony is not too cutting, for the occasion. How 
 horror-struck you would be to witness such senseless impiety 
 But how much less wicked is your conduct, though of course 
 far less gross and revolting, in hesitating whether you shall 
 serve Grod, or any of these mental idolatries — worldly plea- 
 sure, infidelity, Mammon, or sensuality. The idols of the 
 heathen are, as we have said, but the vices of the human 
 heart personified, embodied, and made visible to the senses. 
 Human lusts and passions are the archetypes of them all ; 
 the one being the abstract, the other the concrete form of 
 idolatry : and how much less guilty is it to bend the knee to 
 an idol, than to bow the heart to a vice ? Dwell upon 
 God's divine glory, his infinite majesty, his ineifable excel- 
 lence, his boundless, inconceivable beauty, and every attri- 
 bute of his glorious nature. " To him all angels cry aloud : 
 the heavens and all the powers therein. To him chei'ubim 
 and seraphim continually do cry. Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord 
 God Almighty. The glorious company of the apostles 
 praise him. The goodly fellowship of the prophets praise 
 him. The noble army of martyrs praise him. llie holy 
 church throughout the world doth acknowledge him," — and 
 there are you a poor frail child of man, halting between two 
 opinions, and hesitating whether you shall serve Him or 
 l^aal. O what an ineffable insult to God. Every Christian 
 on earth cries out — shame. Every angel in glory cries — 
 shame. Every page of Scripture cries — shame. While 
 God himself, indignantly and awfully, completes the cry of 
 reprobation, and says, " Be astonished, heavens, at this, 
 and be ye horribly afraid." Consider, then, young men, the 
 crime against God you arc guilty of while undecided. He 
 
86 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 desires and demands immediate surrender to his claims 
 Yield yourselves unto God, and at once, is his impera 
 tive injunction. To hesitate whether you shall serve him, 
 is to be undetermined whether you shall be the friend or foe 
 of Grod — the loyal subject of his government, or a traitor 
 against his throne : whether you shall love or ^hate him — 
 reverence or despise him — dishonor or glorify him. Every 
 attribute of his nature makes indecision sinful — every gift 
 of his hand aggravates the sin — every injunction of his word 
 carries on the aggravation. 
 
 5. Indecision is dangerous. The Israelites found it so ; 
 after hesitating and halting between two opinions, whatever 
 slight transient impression was produced by the scenes of 
 Mount Carmel, they went over to the wrong side, bowed the 
 knee to Baal, and as the punishment for their sin, were 
 carried into captivity, and rooted out as a nation from the 
 earth. Indecision on religion is a state of mind fraught 
 with most imminent peril ; for when long persisted in, it 
 generally ends in decision upon the wrong side. It gives 
 time for the wicked and deceitful heart to collect and con- 
 centrate all its forces of evil — emboldens evil companions to 
 ply with redoubled energy their temptations — encourages 
 Satan to multiply his machinations — and to complete all, 
 provokes God to say, '^ My spirit shall not always strive 
 with man. He is tied to his idols, let him alone. Woe be 
 unto him when I depart from him." Every hour's delay 
 increases the peril, and exposes you to the danger of being 
 loft of God. But there is a danger in another view of the 
 case : you are entering life and are exposed to all the hazards 
 enumerated in the last sermon ; and is indecision, I would 
 ask, a state of mind in which to encounter the dread array } 
 Is it in this halting and unsettled condition that you would 
 
INDECISION IN RELIPtIOUS CHARACTER. 87 
 
 meet the perils of your path ? Why it is like a soldier going 
 into battle without having settled whibh army he shall side 
 with, and which sovereign he shall fight for. Even the 
 decided youth, who has fully made up his mind on the great 
 subject — who has put on the whole armor of God, and is 
 defended at all points with right principles, good resolutions, 
 pious habits, and well-formed character — even he finds it 
 difficult sometimes to stand his ground against the mighty 
 foes of truth, piety, and virtue. Even he who, grasping the 
 sword of the Spirit, and opposing the shield of faith to the 
 darts of his enemies, exclaims with heroic voice, •' I am for 
 God and religion^^'' and who by his very decision and firm- 
 ness drives back the assailants of his steadfastness — even he 
 is often sorely tried. How then can the irresolute — the 
 halting — the vacillating stand } What a mark is he for 
 every foe ! What a butt for every arrow ! His indecision 
 invites assault, and prepares him to become an easy prey to 
 whomsoever will aim to capture him. 
 
 But this is not all. There is a danger of dying in this 
 undecided state. Life is uncertain. Your breath is in your 
 nostrils. A fever — an inflammation — an accident — may 
 come upon you any day, and leave no time for reflection, no 
 opportunity for decision. Death often springs upon his 
 prey like a tiger from the jungle upon the unwary traveller. 
 Millions are surprised by the last enemy in an undecided 
 state. They are shot through the heart, with the question 
 upon their lips, " Shall I serve God or Baal ?" and are hur- 
 ried into the presence of the Eternal Judge himself to have 
 it answered there. Dreadful — most dreadful ! To meet 
 God, and in and hy his presence to have a full exposure of 
 the guilt and folly of hesitating between his service and that 
 of sin ! What a question to come from the God of Glory 
 
P9 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 to thfi poor, naked, trembling, confounded soul — " Are Goa 
 and Baal so nearly alike, that you should have halted between 
 two opinions which you would serve ?'' Mark this — in God's 
 view there is no such thing in reality as indecision — this 
 word is used not to express things as they are, but as they 
 appear. In fact there are but two classes of men, morally 
 considered — the converted and unconverted. The unde- 
 cided belong to the latter class no less than the infidel and 
 profligate — only he may not have gone to such an extent of 
 actual sin, and may feel more the unhappiness of his situa- 
 tion, and the desirableness of changing it. But the choice 
 of God's service has not been made, and he will be dealt 
 with as belonojing to the class of those who are atijainst him. 
 Indecision is utterly inconsistent with the character of the 
 godly, the terms of salvation, and the hope of eternal hap- 
 piness. God will not allow of neutrality, and considers 
 every man who is not decided for him as decided against 
 him, and will treat him as such. No matter that such a man 
 feels the weight of sin's fetters, and the galling burden of 
 its yoke — no matter that he sometimes feels a desire to 
 escape from its bondage, and makes some feeble and occa- 
 sional efforts to effect his emancipation — nothing will be of 
 avail to his salvation, but an entire surrender of the heart 
 to God, and a complete and voluntary yielding up himself 
 to his service, as the supreme business of life. There is no 
 promise in all God's Word to the unstable and wavering — 
 no hope held out of his safety — no salvo provided for his 
 conscience — no middle condition in which he can take his 
 lot between the decidedly good and the decidedly bad. 
 
 And now what remains but that I call upon you to 
 renounce your indecision, and in the language of intelligent, 
 deliberate and settled purpose to say with Joshua : " I^it 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 89 
 
 others do what they will^ as for me I will serve the Lord.'''* 
 Reject Baal, and surrender to God, without comjproviise and 
 without delay. You cannot have two masters ; you cannot 
 have two Gods. You cannot harmonize sin and righteous- 
 ness, nor reconcile a life of piety and a life of worldliness 
 You must be one thinoj or the other. Religion, if not the 
 first and greatest thing with you, is nothing. To be unde- 
 cided in such a business is the most irrational state of mind 
 in the whole range of mental conditions. Look in upon 
 your own immaterial, immortal, wonderful spirit, craving 
 after appropriate and adequate sources and means of happi- 
 ness, and the question is whether you shall satisfy or mock 
 its insatiable cravings. Look up at the Eternal God, your 
 Creator, Preserver, and Benefactor, and the everlasting 
 Paradise of ineffable delights he hath prepared for them that 
 love him, and the question is — whether you shall submit to 
 his claims, enjoy his favor, bear his image, inhabit his high 
 and holy place, or wither away for ever under banishment 
 from his presence, and the effect of his curse. Look down 
 into that abyss of woe which divine justice hath made ready 
 for those who serve not Grod, and the question is — whethei 
 you shall escape that awful retribution upon sin and unbelief, 
 or endure its intolerable burden for ever and ever. Look on 
 to the ever-rolling ages of eternity — that interminable exist- 
 ence whose perspective no eye but the Omniscient one can 
 reach — and the question is whether that endless being shall 
 to you be an ocean of bliss or a gulf of torment and despair. 
 Undecided on such questions ! If such conduct is known in 
 heaven, how must angels wonder at the folly of mortals 
 hesitating whether they shall inherit their bliss : if it be 
 known in the abode of apostate spirits, how must those once 
 dignified, but now degraded beings, marvel with uttermost 
 
90 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 astonishment, that sinful men, in danger of their misery^ 
 should hesitate about escaping from it. Infidels, scoffers, and 
 men of profane minds, may scoff at these appeals to the awful 
 realities of eternity ; just as many a felon, who has expired 
 at the drop, once made himself merry and seasoned his mirth 
 with vulgar jokes about the gallows. Miserable wretch, he 
 found at last that execution was a dreadful reality, with 
 which the most hardened ruffian could no longer trifle. 1 
 believe, and therefore speak, and by arguments no less 
 weighty than such as are drawn from these eternal realities, 
 I conjure you to remain no longer undecided. 
 
 But clearly understand and bear in recollection what it is 
 I require. It is not, as I have said, merely the adoption of 
 any particular set of religious opinions — nor merely joining 
 any particular body of professing Christians — but Repentance 
 towards God — Faith in our Lord Jesus Christ — Holy Living 
 — a character formed and a life regulated by the Word of 
 God. Every known sin must be abandoned, and every Chris- 
 tian virtue practised. Evil companions must be forsaken and 
 your associates be chosen from the godly and virtuous. 
 
 If there be a loftiness and nobleness in decision, it is most 
 lofty, most noble in religion. You need not go for instances 
 of this, and for the admiration which they are calculated to 
 afford, to such examples as Foster brings before you in his 
 inimitable essay — to the examples selected from history, to 
 Marius sitting amidst the ruins of Carthage — to Pizarro — to 
 Richard Til. — .to Cromwell : nor even to those drawn from 
 the records of Scripture — to Daniel — and to Shadrach, 
 Meshach, and Abednego : nor to those supplied by Chris- 
 tian martyrology — to John Huss and Jerome of Prague ; nor 
 to those borrowed from the annals of philanthrophy — to 
 Howard, to Wilberforce, and Mrs. Fry — these are all grand 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 91 
 
 uupressive, beautiful, but they are not the only ones that 
 may be cited ; nor, with whatever lurid or milder radiance 
 they may be surrounded and emblazoned, are they those 
 which are the most appropriate for you to contemplate, or 
 which perhaps will have with you the greatest weight. Look 
 at that manly, pious young man, who has left the shelter and 
 protecting wing of his father's house and home, and is now 
 pla-ced in a modern establishment, and surrounded by fifty or 
 a hundred fellow-shopmen, among whom he finds not one to 
 countenance him in the maintenance of his religious profes- 
 sion, and the greater part of whom select him, on account of 
 his religion, as the object of their pity, their scorn, their 
 hatred, or their contempt. Among them are infidels who 
 ply him with flippant and specious cavils against the Bible— 
 pleasure-takers who use every efibrt to engage him in their 
 Sunday parties and their polluting amusements — men of light 
 morality who assail his integrity — a few lovers of science and 
 general knowledge, who endeavor to allure him from reli- 
 gion to philosophy. How fearful is his situation — and how 
 perilous ! Usually it would be better to leave it, for how few 
 can hold fast their integrity in such a situation. But there 
 he — this decided, this inflexible, this noble-minded youth 
 — stands firm, unyielding, decided. He is neither ashamed 
 nor afraid of his principles — he neither denies nor conceals 
 them. Before that laughing crowd he bends his knees and 
 prays — in presence of that jeering set, he open his Bible 
 and reads — from that pleasure-taking company he breaks off", 
 amidst their scoffs, to go to the house of God. He bears the 
 peltings of their pitiless storm of ridicule or rage, unrujffled in 
 temper, unmoved in principle, and only casts upon his perse- 
 cutors a look of gentle pity, or utters a mild word of expos- 
 tulation, or silently presents the prayer, " Father, forgive 
 
92 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 them, for they know not what they do." He keeps, by hia 
 firmness, the whole pack at bay. Some are half subdued by 
 his wonderful firmness. A secret admiration is bestowed upon 
 him by others, while even they who hate him most, often are 
 astonished most at his inflexible resolution, and it may be 
 that one and another, at length, take hold of the skirt of his 
 garment and say to him, " We must go with you, for we see 
 God is with you." Talk of decision of character — there it 
 is in all its force, beauty, and utility. I know of no case in 
 God's world in which it is exemplified with more power than 
 in that. It is not martyrdom literally, but it is so in spirit : 
 and such a youth ranks with confessors, who bear witness 
 for Christ amidst " cruel mockings." In persecuting times 
 that noble youth would have died for religion upon the 
 scafibld or at the stake. It is a rich manifestation of 
 Divine Grace by which alone it is maintained. It is a sight 
 on which angels might look down with delight, and in respect 
 to which God is ever saying, " Well done, good and faith- 
 ful servant." 
 
 Young men, behold your pattern. This is the decision 
 for which I call upon you : and call upon you to copy it 
 without procrastination. You no more dare to delay than to 
 deny. Every moment's hesitation is a moment of rebellion. 
 Youiave no more right to halt than you have to refuse. 
 God's claim is upon you now, and your next business after 
 hearing this sermon, is to rise and yield yourselves to God. 
 When Pyrrhus attempted to procrastinate, the Roman ambas- 
 sador with whom he was then treating, drew a circle round 
 ■him on the earth with his cane, and in the name of the Se- 
 nate, demanded an answer before he stepped across the line. 
 I do the same : the walls of this building in which you aro 
 now assembled, shall constitute the circle in which you are 
 
INDECISION IN RELIGIOUS CHARACTER. 93 
 
 placed, and before you cross that threshold, I demand in the 
 name of God an answer whether you will serve Him or Baal. 
 
 Put me not off with the excuse that it is an important mat- 
 ter and requires deliberation. It is important, most moment- 
 ous, and on that account requires instant decision ; and as to 
 deliberation — how much do you require ? A year ? A month ? 
 A week ? What ! to determine whether you shall serve God 
 or Baal? You have hesitated too long, and another mo- 
 ment's deliberation is too much. 
 
 Excuse not procrastination by the allegation that it is 
 God's work to change the heart. It is, but it is yours also. 
 The Spirit of God is striving with you while I speak and you 
 reflect. All the influences necessary for salvation are every 
 moment submitted to the appropriation of your faith. 
 
 Turn me not away with the purpose and the promise of 
 coming to decision at some future time. Future time ! 
 Alas, there may be no future for you. Upon the present 
 hour may be suspended your eternal destiny. This night 
 may be the determining point, for to-morrow you may die, 
 or be given up by God to hardness of heart. I press you, 
 therefore, for immediate decision. 
 
 Oh ! what an hour is now closing upon you, and what a 
 service ! How solemn and how momentous ! In what trans- 
 actions — amidst what spectators — with what results and 
 consequences have you been engaged this evening. Three 
 worlds — heaven, earth, and hell — are at this moment feeling 
 an interest in you, as if your eternal destiny hung upon the 
 appeal now made to you. Amidst the prayers of anxious 
 parents — amidst the labors of an earnest minister — amidst 
 the sympathies of this vast congregation — and rising still 
 higher, amidst the eager hopes of angels, waiting to be 
 ministers to your salvation, and the jealous fears and dread 
 
94 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 of demons no less eager for your destruction ; and above all 
 under the watchful notice of the glorious Redeemer waiting 
 to put you among his disciples, you have been urged to de- 
 cide for God and religion, against all and aught that can be 
 put in opposition — what shall be your decision ? It is recorded 
 of an American preacher that he was once urging similar 
 claims on his audience, and demanding who would be decided ? 
 He paused ; a solemn silence ensued, which was at length 
 broken by an individual who had been inclined to infidelity, 
 rising, and with strong emotion, simply aa,ymgj I will. The 
 point was that hour decided. From that moment he became 
 a determined, consistent Christian. Young men, who will 
 imitate this example, and say in the hearing of Him to whom 
 the audible voice is unnecessary, I will 1 That mono- 
 syllable, uttered in sincerity, will go up to heaven and engage 
 it in a chorus of praise over your decision — will go down to 
 the bottomless pit and exasperate the hosts of darkness with 
 the shame and the rage of a new defeat, — and go throuo-h 
 eternity with you as the source of infinite delight. — Let thi? 
 then be youi- resolution, "I will." 
 
THE YOUNG MAN POSSESSING A DEFECTIVE 
 AMIABILITY. 
 
 " Then Jesus beholding hitn loved hinti." — Mark x. 21, 
 
 The narrative of which this forms a part, is thus gfycn. 
 *^ And when he was gone forth into the way, there came om 
 ■runnings and kneeled to him^ and asked him^ Good Mastc-*'^ 
 what shall I do that I may inherit eternal life ? And Jesuit 
 said unto him^ Why callest thou me good ? There is non^ 
 good but one, that is God. Thou knowest the commandments, 
 Do not commit adultery, Do not kill, Do not steal, Do not 
 hear false witness. Defraud not, Honor thy father and mother. 
 And he answered and said unto him^ Blaster, all these have 1 
 observed from my youth. Then Jesus beholding him loved 
 him, and said unto him. One thing thou lackest ; go thy way, 
 sell whatsoever thou hast, and give to the poor, and thou shall 
 have treasure in heaven ; and come, take up the cross and 
 follow me. And he was sad at that saying, and went away 
 grieved ; for he had great possessions. "^"^ 
 
 The character of Christ as delineated by the pen of the 
 evangelists, is one of the brightest glories of revelation, and 
 one of the manj internal evidences of its divine origin. 
 Even the infidel Rousseau confessed, that if the Gospel were 
 a fable, he that invented the character of the Saviour, must 
 5 
 
96 
 
 himself be greater than the hero of his tale. What an union, 
 without confusion, of the human and the divine — what an 
 exhibition of the awful and the amiable, of the stern and the 
 tender : at one time denouncing with terrific vengeance the 
 crimes of the Jews: at another, weeping over the approach- 
 ing fulfilment of his own predictions : now casting ouu 
 demons from the possessed, then, taking little children in his 
 arms ; and just after, looking with deep and tender interest 
 on a youth of attractive but defective amiableness. Young 
 men, study this sublime, beautiful and superhuman character, 
 and say if both this, and the book which contains it, must 
 not be of God. Could such a pattern of matchless truth, 
 purity, and benevolence, be the ofispring of delusion, false- 
 hood, and depravity, which it must have been, if it be the 
 production of imposture .'' To what page of uninspired 
 history can infidelity direct you for anything which even 
 remotely resembles it in greatness, goodness, and unearth 
 liness } 
 
 We now advert to a single incident in the life of Christ — 
 one of great instructiveness and interest to you. By con- 
 sulting the chapter from whence the text is taken, you will 
 find that a youth of rank, fortune, and office, came to Jesus 
 with deep solicitude to know what he must do to obtain 
 jternal life. The whole narrative shows that he was a moral 
 and amiable young man, and also concerned about religion, 
 but depending upon the merits of his own good doings for 
 acceptance with God ; and at the same time loving his 
 wealth far more than was consistent with his high preten- 
 sions of love to his neighbor, and concern about eternity. 
 Believing that Christ was a teacher sent from God, he wished 
 to know from him whether there was anything more which 
 he could do to strengthen the basis of hi« hopes, and to con- 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITF. 9» 
 
 firm his assurance of salvation. It is important to remark ^ 
 and to recollect, that in replying to him our Lord deals with 
 him on his own grounds. Christ neither disclaimed, in what 
 he said, his own divinity, nor preached to him the doctrine 
 of justification by works ; but merely asked him how with 
 his views of the person he then spoke to, he could address 
 him, and flatter him with a title which in its full meaning 
 belonged only to God. So also in telling him that if he kept 
 the commandments with absolute and unsinning perfection 
 from the beginning to the end of life, he would on the ground 
 of his own obedience be justified — his divine teacher did not 
 mean to say that such a thing as unsinning obedience would 
 be found in him or any one else ; but that if it really could 
 be found, it would justify the man who had it. Our Lord 
 soon showed to him, by the test he applied to his judgment 
 and conscience, that he was not so holy as he thought he 
 was ; for upon being commanded to go and sell his posses- 
 sions and give to his neighbors, which as he regarded Christ 
 as a divine teacher sent from God, he ought to have done — 
 he ^^ went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions.''^ 
 Thus proving that with all his professions of having kept the 
 law, he loved his money more than he loved God, or his 
 neighbor, and that the world was even then his idol. Now 
 we are not to suppose from this injunction of our Lord, that 
 no one can bo a Christian who does not dispose of the whole 
 of his property in alms-deeds. Christ laid down a general 
 principle, that supreme love of the world and earnestness 
 after salvation are incompatible with each other ; and gave 
 it such a special application and extent in this case as its 
 peculiarity required. 
 
 Still, we are told that, " when Jesus looked upon him he 
 loved him.'''' Love is a word of wide and comprehensive 
 
98 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 meaning ; in some places signifying approval of, and com- 
 placency in, character ; in others, meaning nothing more 
 than a general interest and good will. There are sometimes 
 appearances in the character and conduct of those with 
 whom we have to do, that deeply interest us ; yet all the 
 while, there is much that we must condemn. This was the 
 case before us. The humanity of Christ partook of the 
 sinless instincts and properties of our own. His bosom was 
 susceptible of the emotions of friendship, and of all that is 
 honorable and graceful in our nature. On this occasion 
 there was something in the circumstances, character, and 
 manners of this young man, which attacted the heart of 
 Jesus to him — his youthful appearance was prepossessing — 
 his manners pleasing — his address courteous — his language 
 respectful — his disposition so deferential and docile that 
 Jesus beholding him loved him. He noticed, recognized, and 
 approved all the good qualities he possessed — he was inter- 
 ested in his youthful age, combined as it was with some 
 concern for religion ; he cherished benevolent wishes for his 
 welfare, and a friendly willingness to do him good This was 
 all ; his regard for what is holy and just and good, prevented 
 him from going farther His inward emotions all the while 
 amounted to lamentation, that so much seeming excellence 
 should be tainted with that which rendered it of no worth 
 in the sight of God, and of no avail to the young man's 
 salvation. 
 
 You see, my young friends, what was the defect in this 
 case — he possessed not the faith which overcomes the world. 
 He wished to unite two things utterly irreconcilable — the 
 love of God and the love of the world. He wanted to serve 
 two masters, God and Mammon. It was not vice and profli 
 gacy that kept him from true religion here, and from heaven 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 99 
 
 hereafter; it was the more decent and reputable sin of 
 supreme attachment to things seen and temporal. He could 
 give up many sins, but he could not give up his besetting sin 
 — supreme regard to wealth. He could do many things, but 
 he could not give up all to follow Christ. He could give up 
 vice, but he could not deny himself and take up his cross. 
 He had many good things, but he lacked that one thing 
 which alone could give holiness to them all. If vice had slain 
 its thousands, worldliness has slain its tens of thousands. 
 Of all the false gods mentioned in the last sermon, the 
 shrine of Mammon is most resorted to ; it is from that tem- 
 ple the broadest and most beaten path to perdition will be 
 found. In the crowd which press along that path, are to be 
 found not only the knaves, the cheats, and men of dishonor- 
 able character of every kind, but the men who follow what- 
 soever things are just, and honest, and true, and even lovely, 
 and of good report ; who yet withal rise to no higher grade of 
 moral excellence, and no more exalted character, than the 
 more just and honorable worshippers of this sordid deity. 
 Yes — even Mammon can boast of devotees, who though they 
 do not act from a principle of religion, yet scorn all that is 
 mean, dishonorable, and unjust. Consider the words of an 
 inspired apostle — " If any man love the world, the love of 
 the Father is not in him :" and begin life remembering that 
 in the broad road which leadeth to destruction, there is a 
 path for the lovers of the world, as well as for the lovers 
 of vice. 
 
 Before I go on to take up and consider the subject of 
 this discourse, there are a few remarks which may with 
 propriety be made upon the case of this young man viewed 
 in connection with our Lord's feelings towards him. 
 
 How much concern may in some cases be felt about reli- 
 
100 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 gion, without the subject of that solicitude being truly reli- 
 gious. Here was some anxiety, earnestness, and inquiry — ■ 
 yet no true, intelligent, and scriptural religion. A character 
 which is by no means uncommon. We sometimes see a tree 
 in spring so covered as to be one mass of flowers, beautiful 
 to the eye, and fragrant to the smell, and hopeful to the 
 owner ; and yet dropping all this upon the ground, and stand- 
 ing in autumn a collection of branches and leaves without a 
 single fruit. Alas, alas, how many persons resemble such 
 young trees, and excite the hopes of parents, ministers, and 
 others, by incipient appearances of religion, only to disap- 
 point them. Do not, my young friends, add to the number 
 of these promising, but deceptive appearances, and bitter 
 disappointments. 
 
 How much good and evil may be mixed up in the same 
 character ; requiring the most careful discrimination and 
 the most impartial exercise of judgment. Here were lovely 
 traits mixed, corrupted, and spoiled by others of an opposite 
 quality. In heaven and hell there are no mixed characters 
 — the former being inhabited by the purely good, and the 
 latter by the entirely bad. No speck is on the bright and 
 burnished surface of the former ; not a spot of brightness 
 relieves the black ground of the latter. On earth, however, 
 we frequently meet with a blending of apparently good and 
 really bad qualities. The fall of man, though it struck out 
 from the heart all that is holy towards God, did not extin- 
 guish all that is amiable towards man. Lapsed humanity is 
 not, indeed, as angelical as ignorant or false flatterers 
 would represent ; neither is it always as unlovely, diaboli- 
 cal, or brutal as its injudicious detractors would assert. If 
 no plant of paradise grows in man's heart till planted there 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 101 
 
 by grace, there are wild flowers of some beauty and pleas" 
 ant odor which relieve the dreariness of the wilderness — 
 
 " And waste their fragrance on the desert air." 
 
 Where this mixture exists, let us recognize it, and neither 
 allow the good to reconcile us to the evil, nor the evil to 
 prejudice us against the good. It is very disingenuous to 
 talk scandal in superlatives, as though every man who is a 
 sinner was a perfect villain. 
 
 The possession of some good qualities is no compensation 
 for the want of others ; nor any excuse whatever for the 
 possession of bad ones.. Nothing is more common than for 
 men to try to set up a sort of compromise between religion 
 and morality. Some imagine that attention to the duties of 
 the latter will release them from obligations to the former, 
 and the performance of their duty to man, serve instead of 
 what they owe to God ; while others seem to think the per- 
 formance of religious duties will exonerate them from their 
 obligations to truth, justice, and purity. So also in these 
 separate departments, attention to one branch of duty, 
 especially if rather strict and rigid, is thought to be a com- 
 pensation and atonement for the omission or violation of 
 others. It will not do. It is a deceptive and destructive 
 attempt. The Word of God repudiates this wicked com- 
 promise, and requires an absolute perfection, both of parts 
 and of degrees, both in reference to religion and morals. It 
 is one of the chief glories of the Bible, that it prescribes, 
 requires, and aids the acquisition of a complete character ; a 
 character in which piety towards God and morality towards 
 man ; the elements of heavenly and earthly excellence ; all 
 that is true, and beautiful, and good shall harmoniously 
 combine. Our Lord would not accept this young man'a 
 
102 
 
 morality in excuse for his want of true piety ; nor his con- 
 cern about the future world as an apology for his love to tha 
 present one. 
 
 We should not fail to own and even love general excellence 
 wherever we find it, though it may not be in association 
 with sanctifying grace. It is good in itself and useful to 
 others, though it will not lead on its possessor to heaven. 
 An amiable youth, who is his parent's comfort, so far as 
 general excellence is concerned, even though he may not be 
 a partaker of true conversion to God, is not to be placed upon 
 a level with a profligate prodigal. We must not say of any 
 man, I hate him utterly and abhor him in all respects, 
 because he has not true holiness. Thus did not Christ act 
 towards this young ruler. He knew he was not holy, yet, 
 behold how he loved him. 
 
 Whatever general excellence we may see in those with 
 whom we have to do, and however we may admire and 
 commend it, we should still point out their defects, and 
 endeavor to lead them on to seek the supply of them. 
 This especially applies to a want of religion associated with 
 the possession of many excellencies. We are all too apt to 
 be thrown off our guard here, and to allow ourselves to 
 think there must be piety where there is so much besides 
 that is lovely : or if not, that it could add but little to such 
 excellence. It is to be recollected, however, that as long as 
 these general good qualities are associated with an unrenewed 
 and unsanctified nature, they are utterly destitute of that 
 only principle which can make them truly virtuous, which 
 alone can render them lovely in the sight of God, and which 
 alone can connect them with salvation. No false tenderness 
 to the feelings of such persons, no disposition to flatter 
 them, no regard to the opinions of others, should lead us to 
 
A DEFECTIVE AxMIABILITY. 103 
 
 conceal from them what we know they are destitute of, and 
 which it is necessary they should possess in order to their 
 salvation. How faithfully did our Lord say — " One thing 
 thou lacked yet.'''' 
 
 Our judgments in matters of morality and religion should 
 be formed by, and follow, that of God. The Bible is the 
 standard, and God the judge of true excellence. The con- 
 ventional opinions of men on these subjects are often very 
 different from those of God. He looks at the heart, while 
 man oftentimes looks no further than the outward bearing. 
 He looks at the state of the heart towards himself: man too 
 generally looks no further than the conduct towards society. 
 In reference to many a lovely specimen of general excellence, 
 man would ask the question — " What can be wanting here V 
 God replies — " Religion." Man asks further — '' What could 
 religion add to this ?" God answers — " The first of all 
 duties and excellencies, love to me." Man still q&estions — 
 " Would any one consign this to destruction .^" God re- 
 plies — " Is this what I demand for salvation ; or is it that 
 which constitutes a meetness for heaven .?" 
 
 It is important to remark the interest our divine Lord 
 takes in the welfare of the youngs and especially of young 
 MEN. There is nothing like this said of any other person 
 in all the Word of God. No other individual seems in the 
 same way to have called forth the sensibilities of our Lord. 
 That it was an exercise of his regard towards a particular 
 individual, is admitted ; but it may well be imagined it was 
 intended to be a type of his interest in a class, and that class 
 is yours, young men. Jesus looks from his throne of glory 
 upon you — addresses himself to you — is waiting for you — - 
 will receive you^ and that with special complacency. Go 
 
 6* 
 
104 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND 
 
 back to the book of Proverbs, and see how conspicuous a 
 place you sustain in the attention of the writer. 
 
 But I go on now to discuss more particularly the subject 
 of this evening's discourse — a defective amiableness. 
 By amiableness we mean what in common discourse we call 
 good nature — a kindliness of disposition — a willingness to 
 oblige, sometimes united with a gentleness of manner, and a 
 lively frankness of conduct : that, in fact, which constitutes 
 general loveliness of character. Now this, so beautiful in 
 itself, may be, and often is, very defective in reference to 
 other important and necessary things. 
 
 First. — There are several general views that may be 
 taken of this defectiveness, which I will lay before you, be- 
 fore I come to that special case which is brought under re- 
 view in the text. 
 
 There is an amiableness, so called^ which is nothing better 
 than the Confounding of a good temper with an easy om 
 These two are very different : the former, as distinguished 
 from the latter, means a kindliness of nature — a disposition 
 to accommodate and oblige, which is under the regulation of 
 a sound judgment ; which is always watchful against the 
 undue influence of others, and can resolutely refuse to com- 
 ply with a request for any thing improper in itself, however 
 importunately solicited. Good temper may, and often does, 
 most firmly and even sternly say, "No." But an easy 
 temper rarely can or does. It has not the power to resist 
 entreaty, but allows itself to be persuaded by almost every- 
 body, and to almost every thing. Such a temper resembles 
 an osier, which any one that pleases can bend in any direc- 
 tion, and which in fact bends of itself before the gentlest 
 breexe. A good temper has eyes to see and examine, as 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 105 
 
 well as ears to hear — an easy temper is quick of hearing, 
 but stone blind : a good temper is self-moved and self- 
 governed — an easy temper is a mere automaton, which others 
 move and guide without any resistance of its own : a good 
 temper is a kind heart in association with a clear head — an 
 easy temper is all heart but no head. Such an easy temper is a 
 very dangerous one, and has led multitudes to their ruin. 
 Never surrender yourselves thus, even to your friends ; for 
 if you do, you may soon find yourselves in the hands of your 
 enemies. He is not your friend who desires to be your 
 master. Be a slave to no man. Never give away your 
 judgment ; and instantly dismiss from your society the in- 
 dividual whom you suspect of imposing upon good nature, 
 and who takes you for the poor dupe that has neither opinion 
 nor will of his own, but can be led to do anything by en- 
 treaty and coaxing. Acquire strength as well as beauty of 
 character. Learn to say, " No," as well as " Yes," and 
 how-to abide by it. 
 
 Sometimes we see much amiableness associated with much 
 ignorance. There is much that is really very kind and 
 obliging ; much to conciliate aflfection, but very little to 
 command respect. Hence the excellence that is in the 
 character does not do the good it might, for want of talent 
 or acquirement to give it weight. It is of such a person said 
 with a sneer, " Very good, but very weak." "VVe say, there- 
 fore, do not be an amiable fool — an obliging ignoramus — a 
 mere kind simpleton ; but cultivate your intellect, and let 
 knowledge recommend virtue. In this respect, as well as in 
 others, do not let " your good be evil spoken of." 
 
 It has not unfrequently occurred that amiableness has 
 unhappily been associated with infidelity and immorality 
 Perhaps more fre(|uently with the latter than with the former 
 
106 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 Speculative infidelity has a tendency to make men cold, hard, 
 gloomy ; it freezes the genial current of the soul ; withers and 
 starves benevolence ; and petrifies the heart into selfishness. 
 But dissipation and vice are often frank and vivacious ; full 
 of mirth and merriment. Modern refinement in demorali- 
 zation has selected a term of some attraction to describe a 
 profligate, and he is said to be '"'' gay^ Colonel Gardiner 
 before his conversion was called " The Happy Rake." Of 
 all the characters on earth that are dangerous to you, and 
 should be shunned hy you, the amiable profligate is the one 
 most to be dreaded. The man of kind disposition, insinuating 
 address, polished manners, sparkling wit, and broad humor, 
 but of bad principles, or bad conduct, is the most seductive 
 agent of the Wicked One for the ruin of youth. It is the 
 fascination of the eye of the basilisk ; it is the glossy and 
 beautifully variegated skin of the serpent, concealing the fang 
 and the venom ; it is the golden chalice that contains the 
 poisonous draught ; or to reach the climax, it is Satan trans- 
 formed, if not into an angel of light, into a personification of 
 polished and attractive vice. Of such men beware. 
 
 Secondly. I now more particularly speak of amiable- 
 ness without religion. 
 
 I remark, that young men may^ and often do possess many 
 things that are lovely and interesting ^ while at the same, time 
 they are destitute of true piety. There may be a delicate 
 sensibility^ the heart may be susceptible, the imagination 
 glowing, and the feelings alive to whatever is tender, 
 pathetic, or heroic — and yet all the while there may be no 
 sense of sin, no gratitude to Christ, no love of God, no 
 delight in holiness, no aspirations after heaven. There may 
 be natural genius ; acquired knowledge ; large information ; 
 their possessor may be able to argue logically, to discourso 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 107 
 
 with ready conversational power, to the delight of friends 
 and the admiration of strangers — and yet one thing may be 
 lacking, for there may be no knowledge of God or of eternal 
 life : and over that mind which is so bright and so brilliant, 
 as regards the present world, may brood the darkness which 
 involves it in the shadow of death. You will sometimes see 
 a young man so eager in the pursuit of knowlege as to trim 
 the midnight lamp, and anticipate the dawn by his studies, 
 till his ey^e waxes dim, his cheek grows pale, and the seeds 
 of disease begin to spring up in his constitution, which has 
 become enfeebled by mental application ; and yet he cares 
 nothing for the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven — there 
 is one book he studies not, and that the best of books — and 
 one science he cares not to know, and that the science of 
 salvation. To such a man we say, in Foster's striking 
 language, " By what dexterity of irreligious caution did you 
 precisely avoid every track where the idea of God would 
 meet you, or elude that idea when it came ? What must 
 sound reason think of that mind, which amidst millions of 
 thoughts, has wandered to all things under the sun — to all 
 the permanent, or vanishing appearances of creation, but 
 never fixed its thoughts on the supreme reality, and never 
 approached like Moses to see that great sight." There may 
 be docility and meekness, gentleness of disposition, and the 
 utmost general loveliness of ckarader^ and yet none of tho 
 humility of genuine religion, nt»ne of the true poverty of 
 spirit, none of the meekness and gentleness of Christ, none 
 of the mind that was in Jesus. There may be unexception- 
 able sobriety — all the passions may be under the restraint.-? 
 of reason — all the propensities may be ruled by the nio.st 
 entire self-government — yet there may not be that holy 
 sober-mindedness, which is the subject of the apostle's 
 
108 THE YOUNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 exhortation, and which consists in keeping the great end of 
 life in view, and adopting such principles as are connected 
 with it. There may be the assiduities of an active benevolence 
 in young people, a willing co-operation in schemes of useful- 
 ness for the benefit of the nation or the world, or of some 
 particular class of objects of human compassion ; much labor 
 may be bestowed, much self-denial practised ; and yet all this 
 while there may be no working out their own salvation with 
 fear and trembling. There may be honesty and trustworthi- 
 ness as a servant, exemplary diligence and perseverance — and 
 yet there may be no giving diligence to the great work of 
 pleasing God, and no exercise of solicitude to serve the Lord 
 Jesus Christ, Yea, as in the case of the young man men- 
 tioned in the text, there may be some concern about religion, 
 a regular attendance on the ordinances of the sanctuary — 
 some occasional impressions and convictions — some transient 
 concern about -eternity — and yet there may be no entire 
 giving up sin and the world ; no complete surrender of the 
 soul to Christ ; no regeneration of heart ; no faith in Christ ; 
 no holiness. A man may know the truth and not love it : 
 he may hear the gospel and not believe it : he may contem- 
 plate the scheme of redemption and not improve it : he may 
 know something of the doctrine of the cross, and yet not 
 appropriate it for the salvation of his soul : and he may 
 speculate about the glory of the Saviour, and the suitable- 
 ness of his character and work, and yet not embrace the 
 Saviour, and receive his righteousness as the ground of his 
 everlasting hope. 
 
 It is most impressive and affecting to consider to what a 
 list of general excellencies, to what an assemblage of virtues, 
 in the same character, this sad declaration must be some- 
 times added, " Yet there is one thing lacking," ! to look 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 109 
 
 successively upon the varied forms of unsanctified moral 
 beauty, as tliey pass before the searching eye of Christian 
 scrutiny, and to have to say to each as he goes by, " Yet 
 lackest thou the one thing needful !" 
 
 Thirdly. — Whatever may be possessed short of true 
 religion is, viewing man as an immortal creature, essentially 
 and ruinously defective. And in what other light than an 
 immortal creature can he be viewed, if we really include his 
 whole being, and his highest being } I will suppose, then, 
 the possession of many things, yea, I will carry the idea as 
 far as it can be carried, and will suppose the possession of 
 everything — except this one thing — true religion — and 
 in the lack of that, there is a chasm which all the rest can- 
 not fill up — a deficiency they cannot supply. To say of a 
 human being, a rational, sinful, and immortal creature, he 
 has everything — but religion ; is as if we should say of a 
 citizen, he has everything but patriotism — of a child, he has 
 everything but filial piety — of a husband, he has everything 
 but conjugal affection. It is just that want for which no 
 assemblage of acquisitions and other excellencies can be the 
 smallest substitute or -compensation. Collect a garland of 
 beautiful flowers, and wreathe them round the brow of a 
 corpse, lovely even in death, and ask, " What is wanting 
 here .^" And the very silence answers, — Life. This is a 
 just representation of the unsanctified excellencies of a 
 young person without religion. Look at this defect in 
 various relations. 
 
 1. To God. The other things may have no direct 
 reference to him, but this has, and this only. It is what he 
 demands. Some of the other things he leaves to your taste ; 
 but this he binds upon your conscience. He demands your 
 faith ; your love ; your submission ; your devotedness ; and 
 
110 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 you are content with excellencies that have no reference 
 whatever to your Creator, Preserver, and Benefactor ! You 
 can be content to smile upon your fellow-creatures, and be 
 smiled upon by them, without ever asking, " Where is God, 
 my Maker, that I might enjoy the light of his countenance, 
 and reflect it back in gratitude and love ?" Is God just that 
 one being whom you might leave out of all consideration and 
 regard, and treat at least worthy of being acknowledged and 
 thought of? Is God just that one friend, whom it is quite a 
 venial sin to banish from the mind, and who is to be no 
 more regarded than if he were some idol in a temple of India ? 
 Is love to God just that one state of heart which can be best 
 spared from the virtuous affections, and by its absence make 
 no chasm? Shall you by civility, courtesy, good-nature, 
 seek to please and gratify every one besides, and not seek to 
 please God by religion ? Did it ever occur to you to ask, 
 " How must I appear in the sight of God himself, with this 
 one defect — a want of religion ?" How odious, indeed ! and 
 hateful, and desperately wicked, in his sight, must that one 
 defect make you appear I For him to see you the joy of your 
 friends, giving and receiving pleasure — but all this while no 
 communion with him maintained or even sought — no devout, 
 ennobling converse held with hiai — no sincere pouring out 
 the soul in the way of fervent desires for his illumination, 
 his compassion, his forgiveness, his transforming operations 
 — no earnest penitential pleading in the name of Christ, for 
 his favor ; no solemn, affectionate dedication of the whole 
 being to his service. Instead of all this, mere general 
 excellencies which give you good standing among your fellow- 
 creatures, but which have no more reference to him than if 
 he did not exist. Ah ! what a defect that one blank must 
 be in the sight of God. 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. Ill 
 
 2. View it now in reference to the Bible , the book of Grod, 
 Itnd all the great subjects which it contains^ It was to 
 implant this one thing in your heart, that the Son of God 
 became incarnate, and died upon the cross — that the Holy- 
 Spirit was poured out — that the Scriptures were written — 
 that the law was given — that the Psalmist was inspired to 
 record his sorrows, confessions, aspirations, and devotions — 
 that prophets uttered their predictions — that apostles penned 
 their gospels and epistles. Heaven has opened and poured 
 forth its splendors and its revelations, not to make you 
 simply amiable, which you might have been without this 
 series of communications from the invisible world ; not 
 merely to bestow a few general ornaments upon the character, 
 leaving its substance unchanged, defective, and corrupt as 
 it is ; not merely to fit you to give pleasure in the circle 
 of your earthly friends, while still alienated from God and 
 holiness : Oh, no ! The Bible, that wondrous book, that 
 silent testimony for God and from him, was penned to bring 
 you under the influence of vital, experimental religion. 
 And yet you are content with amiabilities, with which you 
 might have been possessed, if this volume had never been 
 written ! The Bible, God's book, written by the inspiration 
 of God's Spirit, containing God's thoughts, expressed in 
 God's words, calls you then, not to mere general excel- 
 lencies, but to this one thing which you lack. Patriarchs, 
 priests, prophets, apostles, martyrs, all say to you, " Yet 
 lackest thou one thing." Every writer, every page, of the 
 holy book repeats the admonition. 
 
 3. View this defect in reference to yourselves. All other 
 things fall short of your faculties — your capacity — your 
 wants — your desires. Amiableness, intelligence, sprightli- 
 ness, do no^^ meet your cise, you noed something higher nnd 
 
112 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 better. You want religion whether you desire it or not 
 You may to a considerable extent be ignorant of your neces- 
 sity in this respect, but it exists. It is the one thing which 
 you not only lack, but need. Religion is not to be viewed 
 as a thing which your Creator imposes upon you by a mere 
 arbitrary appointment, as if he would exact, simply in asser- 
 tion of his supremacy, and in requirement of homage from 
 his creature, something which in itself is foreign to the 
 necessities of your nature. It is not a kind of tree of know- 
 ledge of good and evil, a simple test of obedience. No. 
 *' By its intrinsic quality it so corresponds to your nature, 
 that the possession of it is vital, and its rejection, mortal, to 
 your felicity. From the spiritual principle of your soul, 
 there is an absolute necessity that it should be raised into 
 complacent communication with its Divine Original." It is 
 as much constituted to need this communication now and 
 for ever, as the child is to receive the nourishment which 
 Providence has laid up in the breast of its mother ; and it 
 seems as rational to suppose the infant could be satisfied and 
 fed, and made to grow by the ornaments that might be lav- 
 ished upon its robes, while the mother's milk is denied, as 
 that a soul formed to enjoy God can be satisfied with any 
 general excellencies of character, while religion which leads 
 to the fountain of true happiness is neglected : and if it be 
 not so exalted as to be placed in communion with God, it is 
 degraded and prostrated to objects which cannot by their 
 nature, adequately meet, and fill, and bless its faculties. 
 No matter what you are or what you have, if you have not 
 religion : for if you have not religion, you have not God : 
 you are without God. And what can make up for that 
 privation .'' Consider only one single view of such a situa- 
 tion, that of the loneliness of a human soul without God, 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 11.1 
 
 ' ^ All otlier things are necessarily extraneous to tlie soul ; 
 they may communicate with it, but they are still separate 
 and without it, an intermediate vacancy keeps them for ever 
 asunder ; so that, till God, whose essence pervades all things^ 
 comes in and is apprehended and felt to be absolutely in the 
 soul, the soul must be, in a sense, in an insuperable and 
 eternal solitude." But when religion comes into the soul, 
 then God comes to dwell in it, and thus " the interior, cen- 
 tral loneliness, the solitude of the soul, is banished by a 
 most perfectly intimate presence, which supplies the most 
 affecting sense of society — a society, a communion, which 
 imparts life and joy, and may continue in perpetuity." 
 Happy is the man, whose soul hath this one thing which 
 meets all its faculties, wants, and woes. What can the 
 other and lesser things do in time of sickness, of misfortune, 
 of bereavement, and of death } Will a sprightly disposition, 
 a merry temper, a humorous fancy, or even a well-stored 
 intellect, be of any service then ? What will these things 
 do in such circumstances } They may grow as flowers in 
 the path of life, but will they bloom in the valley of the 
 shadow of death } Infidelity indeed gives us one instance, I 
 mean Hume, who could find no higher or better employment 
 than playing cards, reading novels, or cracking jokes upon 
 Charon and his boat, in prospect of that eternity, which, with 
 his views, presented nothing but the shadows of eternal 
 night. Such levity ill comported with such anticipations ; 
 and was perhaps nothing better than the act of a timid boy 
 going through a church-yard at night, 
 
 " Whistling to keep his spirits up." 
 
 4. But view these defective things in reference to the day 
 of judgment and the scenes that follow. Yes, there is a daji 
 
114 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 ordained, in which God will judge the world in righveous* 
 ness, by Jesus Christ. " Rejoice, young man, in thy 
 youth, and let thy heart cheer thee in the days of thy youth, 
 and walk in the ways of thine heart, and in the sight of 
 thine eyes ; but know thou that for all these things, God 
 will bring thee into judgment." Imagine that day were 
 come — that you heard the trumpet sound — that you saw the 
 dead rising from their graves — the world in flames — the 
 Judge descending — the great white throne fixed in the air — 
 the nations gathered round the dread tribunal, waiting their 
 doom. What an awful, ineffable, inconceivable scene — the 
 last day — the judgment of a world — the close of time — the 
 commencement of eternity — the opening of heaven and hell 
 to receive their everlasting inmates ! Conceive, young men, 
 conceive, if it be possible to grasp, to hold, to endure, the con- 
 ception, of your going up to the tribunal, to have your char- 
 acter scrutinized, and your doom pronounced, and when lis- 
 tening for the result, to hear only that dreadful sentence, 
 " Thou art weighed in the balances and found wanting.'''' 
 Thy defective amiabilities are of no avail here. Thy good 
 nature — thy sprightly temper — thy varied intelligence — thy 
 attractive amenity — have not the weight of a feather, are 
 not the small dust of the balance, in which thy character is 
 determined. Thou hast lacked one thing — that one thing is 
 everything here. " Thoit, art weighed in the balances and 
 found wanting.''^ How, how will you endure that decision ? 
 It has been very strikingly observed, that " At the day of 
 judgment, the attention excited by the surrounding scene, 
 the strange aspect of nature, the dissolution of the elements, 
 and the last trump, will have no other efffect than to cause 
 the reflections of the sinner to return with a more over- 
 whelming tide upon his own character, his sentence, his un- 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 115 
 
 changing destiny ; and amidst the innumerable millions who 
 surround him, he will mourn apart. ''^ 
 
 5. View it in relation to heaven. The loveliest of all dis- 
 positions, and the possession of the richest excellencies, apart 
 from faith in Christ, and the love of God, have no reference 
 to that state, and constitute no meetness for it. Heaven is 
 a holy place and state for holy people, and " Without holi- 
 ness no man shall see the Lord," whatever else he may have. 
 Will good temper, amenity of disposition, vivacity, wit, or 
 humor, alone prepare the soul for converse with God ? Are 
 these the things that meeten us for the communion of holy 
 angels and holy men in the presence of a holy God ? At 
 best such attainments are the flowers of an earthly soil, and 
 not the plants of Paradise. How completely would the 
 possessors of such qualities alone, without a holy, heavenly 
 taste and bias, find themselves out of their element in that 
 region of which holiness is the pervading character, an(? 
 which, while it attracts to itself all that is holy, rejects every- 
 thing else. 
 
 I now address myself to three classes of young persons.* 
 First. To those who have some things generally lovely 
 atul excellent in their character , bmt are destitute of true 
 religion, — to you that have sweet dispositions — or good talenta 
 — or acquired knowledge — or attractive wit and humor — or 
 vivacious temper — or all these together — but unsanctified b^ 
 piety, unconsecrated to God, unemployed for Christ. Alas, 
 alas, what a wilderness of blooming weeds of various forms 
 and colors, but weeds still, 07ily weeds ; and as to any 
 influence upon your happy destiny in eternity, useless and 
 
 * Some of the sentiments and expressions in this conclusion, are 
 borrowed from Dr. Watts' Sermon on the same text, entitled, "A 
 nopeful Youth falling short o^ Heaven. 
 
116 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 vain ; fbrming only a garland for the immortal soul on her 
 way to perdition, but no crown of amaranth for the glorified 
 spirit in heaven and eternity ; nor even any, the smallest 
 relief, under her miseries in that world of helpless despair to 
 which her want of religion must inevitably consign her. 
 With a fidelity which my regard to truth, to God, and your- 
 selves, alike require, I assure you that no amount of amiable 
 and interesting qualities, in the absence of religion, can by 
 possibility save you from the perdition that awaits ungodly 
 men. There is an infinite diversity both of kind and degree 
 in the sins to be found in the characters and conduct of unre- 
 newed and unsanctified men ; a difference as great as that 
 which exists between this amiable youth in the text, and 
 the blaspheming infidel and the vicious profligate ; and all 
 will be dealt with by a rule of proportion, but all must be 
 swept away together, the most beautiful weeds, and the most 
 noxious ones, with the besom of destruction ; and however 
 dissimilar and discordant while living and growing upon earth, 
 they will be blended in one common mass of irrecoverable 
 corruption. In unsanctified human excellence, that which 
 has no root in the love of God and the grace of the Holy 
 Spirit,- there is no imperishable principle ; no germ of divine, 
 heavenly, and immortal life ; it is, the very best of it, but of 
 the earth, earthy, — it must die in the soil from which it rises, 
 and can never be transplanted to the paradise of God. I pity 
 the young, the vigorous, the comely figures that neglect to 
 seek after divine grace, and that are ruined for ever by the 
 want of religion. I pity the man of sweet temper, without 
 sanctifying grace — of solid judgment, without sound piety — 
 of lively imagination, without a living faith — of attractive 
 manners, without himself being attracted to the cross of 
 Christ — of courtesy towards man, who yet cherishes enmity 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. Il7 
 
 towards God — who is a polished gentleman, yet an uncon- 
 verted sinner — the admiration of his companions, and yet au 
 object of displeasure to his Creator. So much general 
 excellence infected by a deadly taint that corrupts it all ! 
 How at the last day will such persons be mortified, enraged, 
 and tormented to see men preferred to themselves, whom 
 when on earth they despised as undeserving of their notice 
 — the men of ignorant minds, clownish manners, and rugged 
 exterior. Yes, but under all that outward repulsiveness were 
 concealed the principles of true religion — repentance towards 
 God, faith in our Lord Jesus Christ, and a holy life. Much 
 that is amiable was wanting, but there was religious principle. 
 To see them owned by the Judge, exalted to his throne, and 
 crowned with his glory ; while unsanctified genius and irre- 
 ligious amiableness are rejected as reprobate silver — how 
 profoundly humiliating, how terribly exasperating to those 
 who then will be thrown aside by God as rubbish and refuse. 
 And following these rejected youths of unsanctified amiable- 
 ness onward to their eternal state, what miserable spectacles 
 do they present. You that were the life of every company 
 into which you came, and whose absence was mourned as 
 that of the charmer of the circle, — will your gay fancy 
 brighten the gloom of those regions of sorrow, or give airs of 
 gladness to those doleful shades to which you and they will 
 then be banished ! Will you by any of your present acquisi- 
 tions, be able to relieve yourselves or your companions of the 
 torture produced by the recollection that it was these very 
 arts of wit and humor, sometimes turned against religion, 
 that helped them on to that place of punishment } Will 
 sallies of wit, sportive jests, airs of merriment, playful 
 humor, beguile the dreadful round of the miseries of a lost 
 soul, and make the wheels of eternity move faster and lighter, 
 
118 THK YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 as they did those of time ? How will you of soft and gentle 
 nature, of amiable disposition, bear the banishment to which 
 you will be condemned from the regions of peace and con- 
 cord, the paradise of love, the habitation of all holy friend- 
 ship ; and the imprisonment with demons and demon-like 
 men ? " How will your souls endure the madness and con- 
 tention, the envy and spite, of wicked angels ; you that 
 delighted on earth in works of peaee, what will you do when 
 your tender dispositions shall be hourly ruffled by the uproar 
 and confusion of these dark regions ? And instead of the 
 society of God and blessed spirits, ye shall be eternally vexed 
 with the perverse tempers of your fellow-sinners, the sons of 
 darkness ? that I could speak in melting language or in 
 the language of effectual terror, that I might by any means 
 awaken your souls to jealousy and timely fear ! That so 
 many natural excellencies as God hath distributed among 
 you, might not be wasted in sin, abased to dishonor, and 
 aggravate your everlasting misery."* 
 
 I most earnestly exhort you to supply the defect to which 
 this sermon has directed your attention, and admonish you 
 to add to all that is amiable, that which is holy ; to all that 
 is lovely in the sight of man, that which is well-pleasing in 
 the sight of God ; to all that is earthly in the way of excel- 
 lence, that which is heavenly, divine, and eternal. Bear in 
 vivid recollection what it is you need. You have, or are 
 supposed to have, attractive endowments of mind, or heart, 
 or character — but not real, decided, spiritual religion. And 
 will that religion, if you have it, interfere with any of your 
 other excellencies ? Will it displace them to make room for 
 itself ; Will it pull up all those flowers and throw them 
 away, as inimical to its own nature, and prejudicial to its own 
 
 * Dr. Watts. 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 119 
 
 growth ? Nothing of the sort. Amiableness is homogene- 
 ous with religion — the former is loveliness in the sight of 
 man, and the latter is loveliness in the sight of God. When 
 the grace of Grod enters the soul of man, what it finds beauti- 
 ful it makes more beautiful. It comes not like the cold'chills 
 and dark shadows of evening or of winter to shut up the 
 flowers, and hide their beauties, and nip their strength ; but 
 like the rising sun, to open their petals, to reveal their beau- 
 ties, to brighten their colors, to exhale their fragrance, and 
 to invigorate their strength. Religion is itself the chief 
 amiableness, and the cherisher of all other kinds. Hence it 
 is that holiness is everywhere called beauty. 
 
 Secondly. There is another class I would briefly address, 
 I mean those who are as defective in amiableness as they are 
 in religion. Alas, how many are there of this character, who 
 have neither gentleness nor graciousness ; who are possessed 
 neither of the beauties of holiness, nor the attractions of 
 kindness, godliness, and courtesy ; but who are as unlovely 
 as they are ungodly ; and have scarcely any to take delight 
 in them either in heaven or upon earth. Morose, ungentle, 
 unaccommodating in their disposition, they are incapable of 
 enjoying happiness, and unwilling to impart it. They have 
 oven no external and tinsel ornaments to compensate for the 
 want of internal and substantial excellencies. They are like 
 flowers which have no beauty of color to divert attention 
 from their ofi'ensive color ; like fruits which are as bitter to 
 the taste as they are unsightly to the eye ; like "certain ani- 
 mals, whose outward characteristics are offensive to every 
 sense, and whose flesh is unfit for food. Unhappy young 
 men ! See them at home ; they are tyrannical, morose, selfish, 
 domineering, the troublers of domestic peace, the constant 
 cause of disquiet and disturbance. Even to their parents 
 
120 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 thej are ungrateful, disrespectful, and wayward : unmelted 
 by a mother's gentle influence, unsubdued by a father's mild 
 authority, and unsoftened by the gentle fascination of a sister's 
 love And how often do they go still farther in this want of 
 amiableness, and by adding immorality and profligacy to 
 unloveliness, do much to break a mother's heart, and bring 
 down a father's grey hairs with sorrow to the grave ! Ah, 
 how many fratricides and matricides walk our earth, which 
 no law but that of God can arrest, and no justice but that of 
 heaven punish ! How many carry the heart of a savage 
 under the name of a son ; and the poison of asps under their 
 tongues and in their tempers, and towards even their parents 
 transvenom all emotions of filial piety into the wormwood 
 and gall of intense hatred of those to whom they owe their 
 very existence ! What an object of abhorrence must such a 
 youth be to that divine Saviour who evinced in the subject of 
 this sermon not only his sensibility to the beauties of holi- 
 ness, but to the loveliness of general excellence. Is there 
 such a youth attending to me at this moment — go, young 
 man, from this discourse to your closet, your Bible, your 
 knees, and your God, and implore that grace which has said, 
 " Instead of the thorn shall come up the fir tree, and instead 
 of the briar shall come up the myrtle tree." 
 
 Thirdly. I address those who are in earnest after reli- 
 gion^ and who really possess its essential principles, but 
 are somewhat deficient in the more lovely and ornamental 
 beauties of the Christian character. This is not a defective 
 amiableness merely, but a defective religion. And observa- 
 tion convinces us that it is no suppositious character. It 
 ought not to exist, but it does. Religion, in itself the very 
 type of all that is true, and good, and beautiful, should draw 
 after it every thing else that is beautiful. The supreme J Dve- 
 
V DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 121 
 
 liness should command the subordinate, but it does not 
 always. It must be sorrowfully admitted that a mind en- 
 lightened by the Spirit of God — a heart renewed by divine 
 grace— -a life regulated by Christian principle — are not always 
 associated, in a proportionate degree, with the ornament of a 
 meek and quiet spirit, an amiable temper, and a courteous 
 demeanor. We have sometimes seen a form of distinguished 
 personal beauty disfigured by a want of cleanliness and a 
 slovenly attire. The exquisite symmetry could not be alto 
 gether concealed ; but how much more attractive would it 
 have appeared with other and more suitable accompani- 
 ments ! So it is with character ; there may be real beauty 
 of holiness, but in sad and slovenly attire of temper. 
 Changing the illustration, I may observe, the brilliancy of 
 the most valuable diamond may be hidden by earthly 
 incrustations ; the lustre of gold may be dimmed for want 
 of polish ; and the most majestic portrait be half covered 
 with dust or mildew. So religion, which is more precious 
 than rubies, more valuable than gold, and the very image of 
 God in the soul of man, may have its worth and its excel- 
 lence depreciated by infirmities of temper and a want of 
 amiable deportment. Religious young men, be amiable as 
 well as pious : not only your happiness, but your usefulness 
 requires it. You know that vice has not unfrequently its 
 attractions in the amiabilities with which it is associated, 
 and that some are reconciled to it on this ground. It is 
 equally true that religion may have its repulsions, and that 
 some may be driven from it by these partial deformities. 
 Be it then your desire, your endeavor, your prayer, to unite 
 the holy and the amiable ; let the diamond with its flashing 
 hues be thus seen in its most tasteful setting — the gold in 
 ita brightest polish — and the picture exhibiting the freshes* 
 
122 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 colors, and surrounded by the richest frame. Win you! 
 companions to piety by the attractions with which in your 
 case it is associated. Make them feel that religion is not 
 the frowning and spectral form they have been accustomed 
 to consider it ; a gloomy spirit that cannot smile ; a vampire 
 that sucks the life's blood of joy from the soul of youth. 
 On the contrary, let them see that it is angelical and not 
 demoniacal in its nature, which with a seraph's sacred fervor 
 combines his sweetness, gentleness, and ineffable loveliness. 
 It is this which while it will prepare you to pass through life 
 blessing and being blest, happy in yourself and diffusing 
 happiness around you, will also prepare you for the immortal 
 felicities of the celestial world. " It is this which trans- 
 ferred to heaven will kindle with new and immortal lustre, 
 and will be set in that constellated firmament of living and 
 eternal splendors. Of that brilliant world, that region where 
 all things live, and shine, and flourish, and triumph for ever 
 and ever, the glory, the excellence, is eminently the union 
 of all that is holy and all that is lovely. There, all are 
 brethren, and all love, and are loved as brethren. All are 
 divinely amiable, and excellent friends. Every one possesses 
 in absolute perfection the moral beauty that is loved, and 
 the virtue which loves it. Every one, conscious of unmingled 
 purity within, approves and loves himself for that divine 
 image, which in complete perfection, and with untainted 
 resemblance, is enstamped upon his own character. Each 
 in every view which he casts around him beholds the same 
 glory shining and brightening in the endless train of his 
 companions ; one in nature, but diversified without end in 
 those forms and varieties of excellence by which the original 
 and eternal Beauty delights to present itself to the virtuous 
 universe. There, every one conscious of being entirely 
 
A DEFECTIVE AMIABILITY. 123 
 
 lovely, and entirely loved, reciprocates the same love to that 
 great multitude^ which no man can number ^ of all nations^ 
 kindreds^ and tongues, and which fill the immeasurable 
 regions of heaven. Out of this character grows a series, 
 ever varying, ever improving, of all the possible communi- 
 cations of beneficence, fitted in every instance only to 
 interchange and increase the happiness of all. In the sun- 
 shine of Infinite complacency, the light of the new Jerusalem, 
 the original source of all their own beauty, life, and joy, all 
 these happy nations walk for ever^ and transported with the 
 life-giving influence, unite in one harmonious and eternal 
 hymn to the great Author of all their excellencies and all 
 their enjoyments — Blessing and honor j and glory^ and wiS' 
 dom and thanksgivings he unto Him who sitteth on the throm^ 
 for ever and ever. Amen 
 
THE YOUNG MAN PERPLEXED BY RELIGIOUS 
 CONTROVERSY 
 
 '• What is truth ?'' John xviii. 38. 
 
 Such was the momentous question which Pilate proposed 
 to the illustrious and holy martyr who then stood as a 
 prisoner at his bar. It has been said there are two things in 
 the Scripture account of this circumstance which surprise 
 us — the silence of Christ, and the indifference of his judge. 
 It is surprising that Christ should not answer such a ques- 
 tion — and no less so, that Pilate should not press it till he 
 obtained an answer. One of these wonders is the cause of 
 the other, and if you consider them in connection, your 
 astonishment will cease. The levity of the querist was the 
 cause of the silence of the oracle. Truth in awful majesty, 
 though veiled and insulted, stood before him, and indignantly 
 refused to unfold its secrets and its glories to one who dis- 
 covered such frivolity on such a subject. It was the ques- 
 tion on his lips of idle curiosity, not of deep solicitude ; 
 which came from the surface, and not from the lowest depths 
 of the heart. If Christ had gratified Pilate's curiosity, well j 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELTGIOrS CONTROVERSY. 125 
 
 but he did not think truth of sufficient importance to inquire 
 after it a second time. 
 
 The conduct of Pilate to Jesus and of Jesus to Pilate is 
 repeated every day. Multitudes, by a little attention to re- 
 ligion and their Bibles, a^k, " What is truth .?" but it is in 
 such a careless and undevout manner, that Jesus Christ 
 leaves them to wander in their own dark and miserable con- 
 jectures. Hence so many prejudices ; hence so many erro- 
 nous opinions of religion ; hence so many dangerous delu- 
 sions, in what is called the Christian world. 
 
 Still there have been very many who in sober and solemn 
 inquisitiveness have asked the question, " What is truth ?" 
 Myriads of human intellects of the highest order have 
 engaged in the pursuit of this great object ; and as regards 
 scientific knowledge, have by demonstration and experi* 
 ment echoed in unison, and with something of the rapture with 
 which it was originally uttered, the Eureka of Archimedes. 
 But in reference to moral and religious truth, how multitu- 
 dinous, and how contradictory are the voices which answer 
 the inquiry ! If we may judge from the present state and 
 aspect of Christendom, the day is far distant when the 
 response to the question shall come forth in a grand uni- 
 vocal reply, " This is truth." Hence the perplexities of 
 many young persons at the outset of their religious life. 
 
 Many things, young men, will perplex you at the outset 
 of a religious life, and tend in the early stages of your 
 inquiry into this momentous subject, to embarrass you. The 
 mysterious nature of the whole subject of religion, so far as 
 it relates to divine, heavenly, and eternal truths ; the general 
 neo'lect of the subject in any earnest manner by the multi- 
 tude around you ; and the lukewarmness and inconsistency 
 of many of those who make a profession of it ; will all be apt 
 
126 '. 
 
 to produce an unfavorable impression upon your mind, to 
 shake your resolutions, and render your steps hesitating and 
 faltering. There is also another cause of perplexity, which 
 is the subject of this evening's discourse ; I mean the number 
 of religious sects, the diversity of creeds, and the ceaseless 
 and yet unsettled controversies which prevail throughout all 
 Christendom. Amidst such diversity, you are bewildered ; 
 and amidst such contentions, distracted, and ready to aban- 
 don the subject in hopeless despair of arriving at the truth. 
 
 I sympathize with you, my young friends, in your difficul- 
 ties, and have met you this evening with a discourse which is 
 intended, by God's blessing, to extricate, relieve, and guide 
 you ; and which if it do not remove — for what can remove 
 the difficulty — may do something to lessen it. 
 
 First.— I will state particularly what if is that perplexes 
 you. I descend into the depths of your secret thoughts, and 
 I find there some surprise that on such a subject as roligion, 
 especially with a revelation from God, there should be any 
 controversy, or any room for controversy at all. You may 
 be ready to suppose that all would be so plain as to preclude 
 the possibility of diversity, controversy, or mistake. But, do 
 men think alike on any other subject ? Is there consenta- 
 neousness of opinion on any one topic that is sustained only 
 by moral evidence ? Was there, for instance, ever a statute 
 of law passed, which is usually so framed as to exclude if 
 possible all diflperences of opinion, about which lawyers might 
 not as to some of its clauses raise doubts and difficulties, and 
 express differences of opinion .? Is not a written revelation 
 from God, inasmuch as it relates to subjects foreign from our 
 ordinary matters, remote from our senses, and out of the 
 usual track of our thoughts, just that one thing about which 
 beyond all others, diversity of opinion might be expected ' 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOtS CONTROVERSY. 127 
 
 Consider the thousands of propositions contained in the 
 Bible ; consider the ambiguities of language ; the mysterious- 
 ness of the subjects ; the endlessly diversified temperament of 
 the human mind and circumstances in which that mind is 
 placed ; and you will see at once that nothing short of an 
 astounding and constant miracle could produce absolute 
 uniformity of opinion. Nor is this all ; for such is the cor- 
 ruption of the human mind, that it is not only on this ground 
 likely to go wrong in its judgments, but it is actually opposed 
 with very strong dislike to many of the truths revealed, and 
 which on that account it really wishes and attempts to 
 pervert, as being too humbling for its pride, too pure for its 
 depravity, and too authoritative for its love of independence. 
 Here, again, we see reason to abate our surprise at this 
 diversity of opinion. 
 
 2. The young inquirer about religion is not unfrequently 
 scandalized and disgusted, by the bitterness of sectarianism, 
 and the rancor with which controversy is conducted. He 
 sees the evil passions of our corrupt nature, " malice, wrath, 
 and all uncharitableness," as rife in the writings, and there- 
 fore in the hearts, of religious polemics, as they are in those 
 of the fiercest political antagonists ; and he says in thought- 
 ful seriousness, '' Was not Christianity sent to produce 
 peace on earth, and good will to men 1 Is it not said that 
 love is its gardinal excellence ? Can these men, any of 
 them, really believe in the Christian religion, which places 
 charity at the top of the Christian virtues r" We say to you 
 without hesitation, all this bitterness is wrong, cannot be 
 justified, and is condemned by the volume about which they 
 contend. To speak the truth in love is one of its own 
 injunctions. But recollect that even the best of men are 
 imperfect, and that nothing so strongly appeals to oui 
 6* 
 
128 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 imperfections, and brings them into such activity, as contra- 
 diction and controversy. It is not true to say there is more 
 bitterness in theological controversy, than in any other kind 
 — but it is true that there ought to be less. One thing 
 should not be forgotten, that the importance of the subject 
 naturally renders men more earnest than any other, and that 
 earnestness, it must be admitted, too generally degenerates 
 into unseemly violence and bitterness. There is in every 
 human heart, however morally excellent and holy, some cor- 
 ruption lying underneath its excellencies, which by contro- 
 versy is too often brought to the surface, just as the sediment 
 at the bottom of clear water, is stirred up by the agitation 
 of the vessel. 
 
 3. The equal mental power with which opposing systems 
 are maintained, is to a mind unskilled in dialectics, and 
 unable to detect the fallacies which lurk, and the sophistries 
 which abound, in erroneous ratiocination, often very trying. 
 It is admitted, for it is impossible to question it, that great 
 ability is. possessed and displayed by all parties, by the com- 
 batants for error as well as for truth, in the arena of religious 
 strife. And who can wonder, since the Father of lies has 
 perhaps the most wonderful intellect in the universe, next to 
 God and Christ. In contending armies upon the field of 
 battle, equal courage, skill, and prowess, are often displayed 
 for a long time by both sides, the wrong as well as the right ; 
 and a spectator of the awful conflict might be at a loss to 
 determine whfch would gain the victory, and which ought to 
 gain it. There is no error so palpable even to common sense, 
 but what may be defended with arguments so ingenious as to 
 defy ordinary minds in the attempt to detect their fallacies 
 and expose their sophistries. Truth is often with the weaker 
 party ; I mean weaker in the use of dialectic weapons. 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 129 
 
 A skilful polemic may often make error appear more 
 plausible than truth. 
 
 4. The apparent equality of moral excellencies in the 
 advocates of opposing systems of opinions, is sometimes per- 
 plexing ; and in some cases, even a superior amiableness may 
 seem to be with those who advocate error, as we consider it, 
 to those who contend for truth. It must not be forgotten 
 that religious truth is intended to produce two results, love 
 to God and love to man. In other words, morality and 
 piety. Remember this, and it is of vast importance you 
 should remember it. Penitence, faith, inward holiness, de- 
 voutaess, heavenliness, are all parts of religion, without 
 which the fairest morality, and most beautiful amiableness, 
 are in the sight of God, nothing worth ; and will be found 
 totally unavailing to salvation. There may be much general 
 amiableness without an atom of genuine piety. The only 
 true standard of moral excellence is the Bible, and that 
 places God before us as the first object of regard. Systems 
 as well as men are to be judged of by their fruits ; but then 
 we must always ask what kind of fruits they are designed to 
 produce. Bible truths must produce Bible fruits, and these 
 are something more than the moralities, amiabilities, and 
 courtesies of life, valuable, and necessary, and important as 
 these are. 
 
 5. The present unsettled state of controversy finishes the 
 perplexity. It would seem as if we were no nearer the 
 adjustment of our differences than ever. The sects are as 
 numerous, the creeds are as various and as diverse, and the 
 contests as eager as ever, after all the ratiocination which 
 has been employed, and the volumes which have been 
 written through so many ages. But surely this should not 
 Skdd. much to your difficulty, for if diversity of opinion exist 
 
130 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 at any time, it may be expected to exist at all times. Men's 
 minds are constituted alike in all ages, and may be expected 
 to diiTer in all ages. That under the greater prevalence of a 
 more earnest piety, and the establishment of sounder canons 
 of criticism and interpretation, aided by the dispensations of 
 Providence, and a more copious effusion of the Holy Spirit, 
 
 greater approximation of sects and opinions will take place, 
 may no doubt be expected ; and for that state of things all 
 should devoutly pray and hope. 
 
 In looking at this prevalence of diversified opinion, and 
 seemingly endless coutroversy, let us inquire if while admit- 
 ting it to be an evil, we may not discover some good, which 
 by the ordering of Providence will not be and even now is 
 brought out from it : 
 
 Does not this diversity of sects, and sharpness of contro- 
 versy, effectually tend to preserve the purity of the sacred text 
 of the Bible ? Suppose there were in some large town one 
 public reservoir, from which all the inhabitants drew their 
 supplies of water ; and suppose further, there were some 
 considerable diversity of opinion as to the real quality and 
 properties of the water, which all, however, considered to be 
 necessary; would they not all watch each other that no 
 liberty whatever was taken with the common source, to 
 corrupt it by infusing into it anything which would make it 
 more agreeable to their views and tastes, or to diminish the 
 supply, or indeed to take any other freedom with this 
 common benefit ? They may sometimes dispute, and very 
 sharply too, about the quality of the water, and some bad 
 feeling might be generated in the course of their disputes, 
 but still their natural jealousies would make them jointly 
 protectors of the reservoir, and guardians of its purity and 
 preservation. Something like this occurs in the diversities 
 
PERPLEXITY IN RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 131 
 
 of sects ; they have the Bible common to them all, and on 
 which they all profess to be founded. They differ in opinion 
 as to its contents, but then this very difference makes them 
 keep a sharp look-out upon each other, to see that none of 
 them corrupt the text, either by way of interpolation, 
 emendation, or excision. Such attempts indeed in earlier 
 ages have been made, but they have been detected and 
 exposed. Copies multipled by millions, in various languages, 
 and held in the hands of various churches and denominations 
 prevent this now. The existence of sects and controversies 
 guarantees to us a pure and uncorrupted Bible^ 
 
 Then does it not tend to make the Bible more examined 
 and thoroughly searched ? How little is this book explored 
 in Popish countries, where differences of opinion are re- 
 pressed and controversy forbidden ! How much more gold 
 is brought up in California, where any one may dig and ex 
 plore for himself, than in those places where the mines are a 
 royal monopoly, and none may dig but by authority ! What 
 additions are made to the stock of our scriptuial knowledge, 
 where the stern voice of the Church forbids the exercise and 
 right of private judgment, the publication of individual opinion, 
 and the existence and maintenance of controversy. Even if 
 error by this means could be shut out, how much of truth is 
 excluded with it .'* How little as compared with Protestant 
 writers have Roman Catholics added to our stores of Biblical 
 knowledge ? 
 
 Has not God overruled the zeal of party for the spread of 
 his cause ? Do not the sects quicken each other's zeal by 
 the power of rivalry } Is not this the case both at home and 
 abroad ? I acknowledge that in this zeal there is an infusion 
 of sectarianism, and so far it is a corruption, but there is 
 nothing absolutely pure in our world, and this very infusion 
 
132 THE YOLNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 may stimulate the efforts of the zealot. A propagator of 
 Methodism ; or Church of Englandism ; or Presbjterianism ; 
 or Baptism ; or Independency ; may be stimulated in his 
 efforts to spread his particular opinions, by some sectarianism ; 
 but still with these he carries something more, and something 
 better, for he carries with him the gospel of salvation. I 
 have no doubt that sectarianism does add something to our 
 zeal even in our Home and Foreign Missions, and so far may 
 seem to corrupt it ; but on the other hand it prevents us from 
 sinking into a state of inertness and stagnancy. The Roman 
 Church tells us she can do this without the rivalry of sects. 
 This is not quite true. It is this very rivalry which has in 
 part enabled her to gain her wide extent and dominion. 
 Witness her various orders, and especially that of the 
 Jusuits, and the controversy between the Jesuits and the 
 Jansenists — between her various orders of monks — and her 
 Gallican and Ultramontane opinions. 
 
 The existence of this diversity gives occasion also — alas 
 that so few should be forward to avail themselves of it, — 
 for manifesting our forbearance towards each other ^ and 
 bringing into exercise that " charity which is the bond of 
 perfectness." It would be diflScult to say which would be the 
 most beautiful spectacle, a church uniform in opinion, or 
 somewhat multiform in sentiment, yet maintaining a unity 
 of spirit in the bond of peace. 
 
 We thus see that some good may be brought out of the 
 evil of controversy and the prevalence of sectarianism. 
 The entrance of moral evil into God's wise, benevolent, and 
 holy administration, seemed to he evil, and only evil ; yet how 
 has God overruled it for a brighter and completer manifesta- 
 tion of his character. 
 
 Secondly. I shall now advert to the wronor methoda 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTRl VERSY. 133 
 
 which some adopt to relieve themselves of the perplexity 
 occasioned by this diversity. In some cases it may lead, or 
 tend to lead, either to general scepticism, or to a total aban- 
 donment of all religion, under a despair of ever finding out 
 the truth. Men are apt to say, " We will give it all up, for 
 who amidst such endless diversity can hope to find the truth ? 
 But is this rational ? Do men act thus in other matters 
 about which much diversity prevails ? Do they give up poli- 
 tics because of the numerous parties into which on that con- 
 troverted subject men are divided ? Do they abandon the 
 subject of finance, political economy, and metaphysics, on 
 this ground ? And why should they do it in religion ? How 
 many have found out what they conceive to be the truth, and 
 are reposing in peace upon their convictions ? And why may 
 not you ? Abjure then the idea of abandoning religion on 
 this ground. You will find this to be no excuse at the day 
 of judgment. God has given you an intellect capable of 
 investigating the subject and will hold you responsible for 
 the exercise of it in this particular. Men are divided in 
 opinion upon food and medicine ; upon the best means of 
 promoting health ; and will you therefore give up all care 
 about the best way to maintain your life, health, and comfort } 
 Truth is to be found somewhere, and it is an indolent dis- 
 position which leads us to give up the pursuit, because we do 
 not by a kind of intuition, or at any rate, a hasty first view of 
 the subject, know what it is, and where it is to be found. 
 You must search after it. Your salvation depends upon 
 your finding and embracing those truths with which it is con- 
 nected. Multitudes have found it, and so may you. 
 
 Some few persons, unable to decide upon the truth as 
 regards doctrines^ have contented themselves with observing 
 as they suppose, the 'practical parts of religion, and have 
 
134 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 relinquished all care about what they call dogmas. They 
 have attempted to construct a religion which is irrespective 
 of the peculiarities of sect or creed ; and which shall consist 
 wholly of moral duties, with perhaps a few exercises of 
 general devotion. This is deism. It is true they thus get 
 rid of controversy, but at the same time they get rid of 
 Christianity also. The Scriptures are set aside entirely, and 
 all the great facts and truths of revelation are entirely repu- 
 diated. The Bible is not merely a code of morals to be 
 obeyed and practised, but a declaration of facts and truths to 
 be believed. Scripture ethics rest on Scripture doctrines. 
 Faith^ and not merely practice^ is the demand of revelation. 
 But the great and effectual relief from the perplexities of 
 controversy is supplied, it is alleged, by Popery. The 
 Church of Rome professes that it is itself, by its doctrine 
 and discipline, as set forth in its councils, canons, and creeds, 
 a living perpetual tribunal, to decide all matters of religious 
 faith and practice, and thus to prevent all controversy. All 
 doctrines are settled and determined for its members by 
 the church, as the authoritative and infallible expounder of 
 the truth. This is the lure it holds forth to those who are 
 without its pale ; who are perplexed with controversy, and 
 distracted by religious strifes, and the multitudes of religious 
 sects — " Come with us, we are the true church, possessing 
 authority and infallibility to decide upon doctrine, which is 
 thus ready provided for all its members, without the labor 
 of inquiry, the pain of suspense, the disquietude of doubt, 
 or the peril of mistake. Receive the faith of the church, 
 and believe as the church believes ; which guarantees your 
 safety in all that you receive with this implicit faith. You 
 will thus be taken out of the divisions, distractions, and 
 controversies of Protestantism, and find rest for your weary 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 13o 
 
 sciul in the lap and on the bosom of your Holy Mother, the 
 Church." 
 
 This is somewhat attractive it must be confessed, and if 
 it were true would be quite satisfactory ; but it is awfully 
 deceptive. Where in the Scripture is any church invested 
 with the authority to be a living umpire, and to decide all 
 controversies } Where is there any allusion to such a tribu- 
 nal } Is it not to the Scripture, and not to the church, we 
 are every where directed for settling the question, " What is 
 truth .?" 
 
 Even if the church were this living tribunal, we contend 
 that the Papacy so far from being the true church, is an 
 awful apostacy, and repugnant to every part of the New 
 Testament. Instead of being the judge of truth, it is a false 
 witness, whose testimony is a compound of the most palpa- 
 ble falsehoods, and soul-destroying errors ; whose continued 
 voice speaketh lies in hypocrisy. The claim of the Church 
 of Rome to infallibility, which is the basis of the living 
 tribunal, is repugnant alike to reason, to Scripture, and to 
 the facts of her own history. It acknowledges that infalli- 
 bility is not the attribute of its individual members, but 
 only of the collective body, assembled in a General Council. 
 But is it not an universal law of logic, that what is in the 
 genus must be in the species } If, therefore, the collective 
 body is infallible, so must be its individual members. How 
 can a collection of fallibles, multiply them as you will, 
 make up an infallible ? Besides, the Church of Rome is 
 not yet decided, and never has been, where this infallibility 
 resides ; whether in the Pope without a General Council — - 
 a General Council without a Pope — or a Pope and a General 
 Council. Thus the claim is repugnant to reason. It is 
 equally so to Scripture, which in a thousand places admits 
 
136 THK TOITXG man's friend. 
 
 the liability of all men to err ; except such as are under a 
 Divine inspiration. Nor is the claim less contradictory to the 
 history of Romanism, which declares that Pope has been 
 against Pope; the same Pope against himself; and Council 
 against Council. There is scarcely a doctrine of Popery 
 which has not been the subject of controversy within the 
 bosom of the Papal community. The variations of Popery 
 have been almost as numerous as those of Protestantism. 
 Where then is its infallibility ? 
 
 The claim of the Church of Rome to be this living 
 tribunal, which is to settle once for all and for every body 
 what is truth, and to prevent all controversy by forbidding 
 the exercise of private judgment, is in direct contradiction to 
 the Word of God, which calls upon every man for himself to 
 "search the Scriptures," " to prove all things," and " hold* 
 fast that which is good." 
 
 To constitute the church the tribunal which is to decide for 
 us what is truth, without our examination of the Scriptures 
 for ourselves, is to make all its members believers in the 
 church rather than in the Word of God, and thus to put the 
 church in the place of the Bible as the object of faith. 
 
 This method of deciding controversies, and settling the 
 question what is truth, renders the Scriptures all but useless 
 for the people ; and therefore is very consistent with the 
 prohibited indiscriminate use of the Scriptures by them. 
 
 This scheme is an utter degradation of man's nature as a 
 rational being, and is a plan never adopted in reference to 
 any thing else. Who would endure such a method of deter- 
 mining questions of literature, science, politics, law, or art ? 
 Why, therefore, should man's own inquiry be debarred on 
 the most momentous of all topics, and he be exposed to the 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 137 
 
 consequences of eternal ruin by implicitly trusting to the 
 judgments of others ? 
 
 How is any man to know whether he really believes what 
 the church believes, and all it believes ? Who can search 
 the numberless folios which contain the faith of the church, 
 and be satisfied that he has not omitted something which 
 the church requires of him ? And though creeds drawn up 
 by Popes, and catechisms and manuals by learned doctors 
 and eminent bishops, may be put into the hands of the 
 people, yet as no individual man, however elevated, even the 
 Pope himself, is infallible, how is any one to be satisfied that 
 there is no error in these compositions ? Besides, as no one 
 can have access to the church except as it is represented 
 to him by some individual priest, who is in the place of both 
 God and the church to him ; how can any one be sure, since 
 that individual priest is fallible, but that he may err in the 
 views he may give of the church's doctrine ? 
 
 This living tribunal by suppressing controversy destroys 
 liberty, and turns the whole subject of religion into a matter 
 of slavish submission to human authority. And with liberty, 
 piety also to a considerable extent expires. The dull unifor- 
 mity produced by the compulsion of authority, would be no 
 compensation for the loss of that activity and spirit which 
 are kept alive by the neighborhood and zeal of rival sects. 
 " The Gallican Church no doubt looked upon it as a signal 
 triumph when she prevailed upon Louis XIV. to repeal the 
 Edict of Nantes, which by refusing toleration to the Huo-ue- 
 nots, suppressed the voice of controversy and the existence of 
 sects. But what was the consequence } Where shall we 
 look after this period, for her Fenelons and her Pascals } 
 Where for the distinguished monuments of piety and learn- 
 ing, which were tlie glory of her better days } x\s for piety, 
 
]38 TnE YOUNG man's friend. 
 
 she perceived she had no occasion for it, when there >-d3 
 no lustre of Christian holiness surrounding her ; nor for 
 learning, when she had no longer any enemies to confute, or 
 any controversies to maintain. She felt herself at liberty 
 to become as ignorant, as secular, as irreligious as she 
 pleased ; and amidst the silence and darkness she had 
 created around her, she drew the curtains and retired to rest. 
 The accession of numbers she gained by suppressing her 
 opponents, was like the small extension of length a body 
 acquires by death ; the feeble remains of life were extinguish- 
 ed, and she lay a putrid corpse, a public nuisance, filling the 
 air with pestilential exhalations."* 
 
 Such then are the objections to a living and infallible 
 tribunal for the decision of controversy, as claimed by the 
 Church of Rome. 
 
 But, perhaps, it will be asked whether all denominations 
 do not put forth creeds, articles, and catechisms, which they 
 not only teach, but the belief of which is required by their 
 members. Certainly, as acknowledged symbols of their 
 views of the Word of God ; but these they allow every man 
 to test by the Scriptures, and to reject them if he sees fit. 
 They are held forth to guide, but not to compel. They are 
 proposed^ but not imposed. They are submitted for exami- 
 nation and instruction to the judgment, but they are not 
 made to bind the conscience. 
 
 • You see then, young men, that the perplexities of contro- 
 versy must not be avoided by surrendering up your judgment 
 into the hands of priests ; but you are to employ it diligently 
 for yourselves in coming to a conclusion upon the various 
 questions which divide and agitate the religious world. 
 
 Thirdly. The question, however, comes back — What 
 * Robert Hall on " Zeal without Innovation." 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 139 
 
 is to be done ? How is the mind to be relieved from its per- 
 plexity in listening to the contradictory views which reply 
 to the question, What is truth ? Is an inquirer to set about 
 to read and study the religious opinions of all the denomina- 
 tions in existence ? That would be an endless and needless 
 labor. It would be a useless consumption of time, and 
 would only end in still deeper and more painful perplexity. 
 Take the case of any other book than the Bible, — a legal 
 statute, or a history, or any other document, about which a 
 great diversity of interpretation existed, and which was in 
 your own hands, would you in order to know its true mean- 
 ing think it necessary to read all these clashing opinions ? 
 No ! You would say, " I will read and study the document 
 itself. I have it in my possession in the vernacular tongue, 
 and I will read and judge for myself." Act thus in reference 
 to the Bible and religious differences. 
 
 1. Study the Scriptures. Search the Word of God for 
 yourselves. Be intimately acquainted with your Bibles, 
 especially the New Testament. But there is a right and a 
 wrong way of doing this. The exhortation to search the 
 Scriptures is expressive of a particular state of mind, as well 
 as of an outward duty. Carry no preconceived nations to the 
 Bible., with which it is your previous determination to make 
 everything square. Read the Word of God with a simple 
 and sincere desire to know its real meaning. In reading the 
 Scriptures there must be no attempt to try what, by the aid 
 of a perverted ingenuity and a previous bias, they may be 
 made to say ; but a simple desire to know what they do say. 
 Read with entire and absolute impartiality, just as you would 
 the prescription of a physician who had given you directions 
 for food and medicine,- to restore and preserve your health. 
 Let there be a humble and teachable disposition. '' Receive 
 
140 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 with meekness the ingrafted word." " The meek will h« 
 guide in judgment, the meek will he shew his way." " Ex- 
 cept ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall 
 in no case enter into the kingdom of God." And whatever 
 exercise of our intellect may be carried on, and however con- 
 vinced we may be that the intellect must be exercised, there 
 should be associated with this a humble and wholesome 
 distrust of our own understanding. In searching the Scrip- 
 tures we must consider their design as well as their meaning ; 
 that they are intended not only to communicate knowledge, 
 but faith and holiness. The Bible is a book to make us 
 wise unto salvation. It contains a " doctrine according to 
 godliness." " Sanctify them through thy truth," was the 
 prayer of Christ for his disciples. Divine truth is intended 
 to produce a divine life. To read in order to know, or to 
 support and defend a system, is a low and unworthy end. 
 To search the Scriptures aright, yoti, must give up and 
 abstain from all sinful indulgencies. " Laying aside all 
 filthiness, and superfluity of naughtiness, receive with meek- 
 ness the engrafted word," is the injunction of the apostle. 
 The lusts of the mind, — the pride of intellect, the love of 
 wealth, thirst after human applause, as well as the lusts of 
 the flesh, impair the mental vision, and smite the soul with 
 spiritual blindness, insomuch, that holy truth, however plain, 
 remains undiscovered. 
 
 There is another disposition to be carried to the Scriptures 
 in our perusal of them, and that on account of its import- 
 ance, I place by itself, that it might be very conspicuously 
 seen as seriously considered, and as vividly and practically 
 remembered ; I mean that suggested by our Lord, where he 
 says, " If any man will do his (G-od's)'will, he shall know of 
 the doctrine (which I speak) whether it be of God, or 
 
PERPLEXITf OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 141 
 
 whether I speak of myself." John vii. 17. A real obedi- 
 ence to the will of God, as far as we at present know it, 
 united with a sincere and hearty determination to do it in all 
 further discoveries of it, to whatever risks, sacrifices, and 
 inconveniences such obedience may expose us, is the best 
 way of coming to a right knowledge of the truth. We must 
 love truth not only for its own sake, but for its holy tendency 
 and effect : and he that is most anxious to obtain holiness 
 by truth, is most likely to know truth for the sake of holiness. 
 Right dispositions are the way to obtain right opinions. 
 Divine truth, unlike scientific knowledge, is intended, as 
 well as adapted to produce moral results, and if we are not 
 anxious to obtain these, we are not likely to come to a know- 
 ledge of the truths themselves. 
 
 There must also be very earnest 'prayer for the teaching of 
 the Holy Spirit. There are undoubtedly some things in the 
 Bible hard to be understood ; but in what pertains to salva- 
 tion, all is as clear as crystal. But if there be light in the 
 Bible, there is darkness in us. " The natural man receiveth 
 not the things of the Spirit of God^ for they are foolishness 
 unto him J neither can he know them^ because they are spirit- 
 ually discerned.''^ 1 Cor. ii. 14. The safe and proper, and 
 only safe and proper manner of approaching the heavenly 
 oracle, is that which David manifested, when he thus prayed, 
 " Open thou mine eyes that I might behold wondrous things 
 out of thy law." So, also the Apostle entreated for the 
 Colossians, " We do not cease to pray for you, and to desire 
 that ye might be filled with the knowledge of his will in all 
 wisdom and spiritual understanding," chap. i. 9. It might 
 not strike some, that although we have the book, it is neces- 
 sary in addition to have the teaching of the Author : but it 
 it were not absolutely necessary, yet surely this would bo 
 
142 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 considered a privilege, even as regards a human production. 
 But it is in this case necessary. How powerful is the influ- 
 ence of our inward corruption in blinding and bewildering 
 our judgments ! How liable are we to err ! How momentous 
 a matter is it on which to mistake ! How numerous and 
 how fatal are the mistakes that are made ! Unless there- 
 fore, we not only pray, but give ourselves to prayer for 
 divine illumination, we are likely, even with the Bible in our 
 hands to go wrong. That the Bible may be mistaken, and 
 z-5, no one can doubt. The subject of this sermon proves it. 
 How many errors are in the world on the subject of divine 
 revelation. 
 
 2. As your safest guide amidst the diversities of religious 
 opinion which exist, and as the best mode of relieving your 
 mind from the perplexity occasioned by controversy, acquire 
 the elements of decided personal godliness. These lie with- 
 in a very narrow compass, are common to many denomina- 
 tions of professing Christians, and with whatever other 
 sentiments they may be associated, will obtain the possession 
 of eternal life. Be sure to be right on great and funda- 
 mental points. Be upon the foundation, and then though 
 you are a little off the perpendicular, yet you will not fall. 
 And what are these grand essentials, without which no man 
 can be saved, and with which every man will be saved, 
 whatever in other respects may be his creed or his church ? 
 Repentance towards God, — faith in our Lord Jesus 
 Christ — and evangelical holiness. I do not mean to 
 say that these constitute all that God has revealed and 
 therefore all that we need concern ourselves about. By 
 no means. There are innumerable other matters which are 
 found in the Word of God, but these are the substance — the 
 great essentials to salvation. Personal godliness is the great 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 143 
 
 preservative from serious error. As in the animal economy 
 there are certain instincts which lead the irrational creatures 
 to select good and salubrious food, and to refuse and repel 
 such substances as are noxious, so in the spiritual economy 
 there is something analagous. There are certain sentiments 
 and systems which it is scarcely necessary to prove to the 
 spiritual mind that they are false, for the spiritual taste 
 pronounces them to be bad. The holy life within refuses and 
 repels them at once as repugnant to its nature ; and the 
 stronger and healthier that life is, the greater is the force of 
 this repugnance. Hence the necessity, not only of our being 
 possessed of true personal godliness, but of high degrees of 
 it. He who feels all the vitalising power of sound doctrine 
 in making him holy, heavenly, and happy, will be in some 
 danger of mischief from other doctrines, and feel little neces- 
 sity to inquire into other sentiments. The man who finds 
 his strength firm, his health glowing, his spirits buoyant, his 
 employment easy, by means of good, plain, nutritious food, 
 will have no need to study the various systems of medicine 
 and dietetics. He may let physicians wrangle on, without 
 troubling himself about their conflicting opinions. So the 
 man strong in faith, lively in hope, and ardent in the love of 
 God and man : he who has joy and peace in believing : he 
 who is able to mortify his corruptions, and invigorate his 
 graces, by those views of divine truth, which he has gained, 
 need not read through a book of religious denominations to 
 find out what is truth, for he has " the witness in himself." 
 3. It would be of material service, and a great help to 
 you in deciding for yourself in matters of controversy as to 
 what is truth, to gather from the Scripture, by a devout and 
 careful perusal, some hroad comprehensive views of its general 
 purport and design, in reference to doctrine^ ceremony, and 
 7 
 
144 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 government. Broad and general views on any subject 
 greatly assist us in understanding its minuter parts and 
 details. 
 
 As regards what is usually called doctrines^ the Scriptures 
 every where assert the lapsed, the corrupt, and condemned 
 state of human nature ; in other words, that man is a guilty 
 and unholy creature, who has fallen from his original state 
 of righteousness, and who if recovered from this condition 
 and restored to the favor of God, must be saved by some 
 aid from without : that the design of the incarnation and 
 death of our Lord Jesus Christ is to effect man's redemption 
 from sin, guilt, or death, in a manner harmonious with the 
 perfections . of the divine character, and the principles of 
 God's moral government ; that the blessings consequent to 
 man upon this system of mediation, are pardon, peace and 
 holiness here, and eternal life hereafter : and that the con- 
 ditions on which, as a siTie qua noUj and not as a meritorious 
 cause, these blessings are bestowed — are repentance towards 
 God, and faith in our Lord Jesus Christ — in short, the union 
 of the salvation of sinners, and of the manifested glory of 
 God's moral character. Now this, one should think, must 
 be conceded by every one who has obtained the least ac- 
 quaintance with the Word of God. What a guide would 
 these views prove to the settlement of many controversies ! 
 Through what labyrinths of opinion would these first princi- 
 ples of the Christian scheme lead you in safety ! How many 
 details would they include, and how many connected doc- 
 trines unfold, and establish, or render necessary ! Let these 
 then be deeply rooted in your mind as so many fundamental 
 truths, and be made to bear on all the controversies of 
 which you may hear or read. Bring all other sentiments to 
 the ordeal of this question, ' Do they profess or deny the 
 
FERPLEXirY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 115 
 
 corruption of human nature so clearly laid down in the Word 
 of Grod, and its recovery from guilt and depravity by a 
 system of mediation through Christ, which unites the 
 redemption of man and the manifested glory of God ?" 
 
 A similar general reference to the ceremonial of the New 
 Testament will help you to settle many controversies on this 
 subject. You cannot possibly read the Gospels and Epis- 
 tles without observing the contrast presented in one striking 
 point 6f view, between Judaism and Christianity — the 
 former exhibiting so much that was ceremonial, the latter so 
 little : the one being eminently a ritual system, the other no 
 less eminently a spiritual one. When Christ suffered on 
 Calvary, and expired with that triumphant* shout " It is 
 FINISHED," he changed the whole aspect of revealed religion. 
 On one side of the cross you behold the Law, with its 
 priests, its sacrifices, and its rites, retiring from sight ; on 
 the other, you behold the Gospel, with its simple and spirit- 
 ual institutions, coming forward into view. From that hour 
 the great design of Christianity was to form a character, of 
 which a new, divine, and inward life should be the animating 
 soul, and holiness in all its branches and beauties, be the 
 external manifestation. Christianity was intended, if not to 
 put an end to ritualism, yet so to subordinate it to spiritual- 
 ism, conscientiousness, and holy love, that it should be but 
 as the fillet round the brow, or the bracelet on the arm of 
 piety. Christianity has left us nothing but baptism and the 
 Lord's supper in the form of ceremony, and has said so 
 little even about these as to lead us to suppose it considers 
 them of very inferior importance to what is moral and 
 spiritual. Just ask the question again, " What kind of reli- 
 gion does the New Testament chiefly design to teach, a 
 rituaf or a spiritual one .?" Here again you will be furnished 
 
146 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 with a test of many a system. Connected with ceremony^ is 
 priesthood. Observe what is said in the New Testament 
 about this. How very little is said about religious officials 
 or functionaries of any kind, compared with what is said of 
 other things. Christ is our Great High Priest, and all real 
 Christians are the ^priesthood. No other priest is mentioned. 
 And as to bishops, pastors, or elders, their only functions 
 mentioned are teaching and ruling. A sacerdotal order, or 
 sacerdotal acts, are nowhere referred to. It nowhere seems 
 the design of the apostles to make much of man, and to 
 invest him with domination or ghostly authority in the 
 church. Even they disclaimed being lords of Grod's heri- 
 tage. 
 
 So again with regard to ecclesiastical -polity^ it will be well 
 to take a general view of this question, as furnished by the 
 New Testament. I say the New Testament, for the Old 
 was the code of law for Judaism, as this is for Christianity. 
 It would be no more proper to look to the constitution of the 
 Jewish Theocracy for the model of the Christian church, 
 than it would be to the temple, its priests, and sacrifices, and 
 ceremonies, for the regulations of Christian worship. The 
 same difference is observable in the ecclesiastical character of 
 Judaism and Christianity as is evident in their ceremonial. 
 The Divine Author of our religion has furnished by his con- 
 fession before Pilate — " My kingdom is not of this worW — ■ 
 that which is the key to all social religion, and ecclesiastical 
 organization. The elaboration, complexity and secularity 
 of earthly kingdoms do not appertain to His church, of which 
 the characteristics are simplicity and spirituality. The de- 
 sign of church government is not so much the conversion of 
 men's souls, as the fellowship, edification, and comfort of 
 those who are already converted. The church of Christ 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTPvOVERSY. 147 
 
 consisting of the company of believers, must in all its insti- 
 tutes be adapted to spiritual men, and have respect to their 
 order, harmony, and mutual helpfulness. It has nothing 
 worldly in its nature or design. It is in the world, but not 
 of it. The more spiritual and simple a scheme of ecclesi* 
 astical polity is, the more likely, upon this general principle 
 now laid down, does it seem to be that it is an approximation 
 to that set up by our Lord Jesus Christ. The more clearly 
 it exhibits the church as a separate community, like the Jews 
 amidst surrounding nations, dwelling apart by itself, governed 
 by its own laws, animated by its own spirit, and pursuing its 
 own objects, the more does it accord with all which the New 
 Testament teaches us on this subject. 
 
 An attention to these general aspects of divine revelation 
 will greatly assist us in coming to a conclusion upon most 
 points of religious controversy. 
 
 4. Having made up your minds, upon evidence, as to what 
 is truth, then have as little to do with religious controversy 
 as you can. Seek a practical rather than a polemical reli- 
 gion. Treat it rather as something to be done than talked 
 about. Be not fond of disputation. Be no religious knight- 
 errant, running a tilt against every one who differs from you. 
 A pugnacious disposition, whether it be from a natural com- 
 bativeness or a prevailing vanity, is a dangerous thing to 
 piety, which, like the dew, falls only in a still atmosphere, 
 and lies longest in the shade. Be too much taken up with 
 adding " to your faith virtue, and to virtue knowledge, and 
 to knowledge temperance, and to temperance patience, and 
 to patience godliness, and to godliness brotherly kindness, 
 and to brotherly kindness charity," to have much time fo'r 
 strife and contention. 
 
 Let it be your great concern to eat of the Bread of Life, 
 
148 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 pure and unadulterated, rather than mix up with it the grit 
 and thorns of controversy ; and to drink, and not trouble 
 and foul, the clear Water of Life. Avoid a taste for curi- 
 osity in things unrevealed — a speculative turn concerning 
 things mysterious — and a distempered zeal for what, if true, 
 is comparatively little. " There is," says an old author, '^ a 
 kind of intemperance in most of us, a wild and irregular 
 desire to make things more or less than they are in them- 
 selves, and to remove them well nigh out of sight by our 
 additions and defalcations. Few there are who can be con- 
 tent with truth, and settle and rest in it as it appeareth in 
 that nakedness and simplicity in which it was first brought 
 forth ; but men are ever drawing out conclusions of their 
 own, spinning out and weaving speculations, thin, unsuitable, 
 and unfit to be worn, which yet they glory in and defend 
 with more heat and animosity than they do that truth which 
 is necessary and by itself sufficient without this art. For 
 these are creatures of our own, shaped out in our phantasie, 
 and so drest up by us with all accurateness and curiosity of 
 diligence, that we fall at last in love with them, and apply 
 ourselves to them with that closeness and adherency which 
 dulleth and taketh oif the edge of our affection to that which 
 is most necessary, and so Icaveth that neglected and last in 
 our thoughts, which is main. As we read of the painter who 
 having stretched his phansie and spent the force of hig 
 imagination in drawing Neptune to the life, could not raise 
 his after thoughts to the setting forth the majesty of 
 Jupiter." 
 
 Love the closet of devotion more than the arena of con- 
 tention ; study the Bible more than the volume of angry 
 discussion ; and seek the company of the sons of peace, 
 vather than association with those who say " we are for 
 
TERFLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 1 i'J 
 
 *ar." It is well of course, to make yourselves acquainted 
 j/enerally with the subjects of controversy, especially of th« 
 leading controversies of the day. No young man, for in- 
 stance, should be ignorant of the great principles of Evan- 
 gelical truth as opposed to Rationalism or Unitarianism ; or 
 of Protestantism and Popery ; in all their range and bear- 
 ing : it is the question of the day, and in order to contend 
 earnestly for " the faith once delivered to the saints,'' we 
 mubt know what the faith is, and both how it is assailed and 
 how it can be defended. Every man should know what he 
 believes and why he believes it ; and thus " be able to give 
 a reason with meekness and fear of the hope that is in him." 
 He should take his side and valiantly keep it. All this is 
 proper and necessary, but this is a different thing to our 
 reducing religion to a mere matter of controversy. How 
 many are there whose whole godliness is a mere contest for 
 a creed, or a church, without their having any true faith in 
 Christ, or their being members of the church which he hath 
 purchased with his blood. What multitudes are now fierce 
 for Protestantism, who have never embraced one great true 
 Protestant principle with their whole heart ! Oh that men 
 were but more anxious to practice Christianity than contro- 
 vert about it. That they were as zealous for holiness as 
 they seem to be for truth, and to imbibe the spirit and ex- 
 hibit the image of Christ in their temper, character, and 
 conduct, as they are to embody his doctrines in their creeds. 
 Young men, be ardent lovers of the truth, diligent seekers 
 after it, constant associates with it, and impassioned admirers, 
 valiant defenders, and zealous promoters of it ; but at the 
 same time, not pugnacious, restless, bitter, and bigoted dis- 
 putants for it. 
 
 5. Having received upon satisfactory evidence the system 
 
150 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 of doctrine which you believe to be Scriptural, do not allow 
 your convictions to be shaken, or your faith to be staggered, 
 on account of any difl&culties with which it may seem to be 
 attended ; nor by any cavils and objections brought against 
 it, which you may not be able to answer. 
 
 It is of great importance for you to remember that there 
 is no truth, however evident and certain it may be, against 
 which an ingenious and dexterous sophist may not advance 
 some plausible objections, and in connexion with which, its 
 most assured believers may not see some difficulties they 
 may not be able to explain. Mathematical science is the 
 only department of human inquiry which excludes all doubt 
 and difficulty. Even the experimental philosopher some- 
 times finds many difficulties in his path which he is unable 
 to clear up ; some ultimate laws which perplex and confound 
 him : yet there, established by many and well-ascertained 
 proofs, is the baffling fact. What course does the philoso- 
 pher now take ? Does he disbelieve his experiments, dis- 
 credit the testimony of his senses, reject the evidence which 
 has come before him, and abandon himself to scepticism ? 
 Certainly not. He credits his proofs, he relies upon his as- 
 certained facts, and says, " I am puzzled, I see a difficulty 
 which I cannot yet explain, but I hold fast my conviction of 
 the truth of what I have proved, and wait for further light 
 to clear up what is now dark. I cannot forsake and give up 
 evidence, because of some yet unexplored difficulty, and thus 
 relinquish what I do know for what I do not know." Is not 
 this perfectly rational ? Entirely philosophical ? In this 
 way I am anxious you should act in reference to religion, its 
 doctrines, and its controversies. Receive whatever truth 
 revelation makes known, and because it makes it known, no 
 matter with what difficulty it may be attended, and wait foi 
 
) 
 
 PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 15 
 
 further light to enlighten what is now dark. By difficulty, 
 I mean something you cannot perfectly understand : some- 
 thing you cannot entirely harmonize with your own notions ; 
 something you cannot make quite to agree with some other 
 portions of divine truth ; something which may be objected 
 to by others, whose objections you feel yourselves in some 
 measure unable to answer. If the evidence convinces you, 
 let not the difficulty confound you, or shake your convic- 
 tions. It may be well sometimes, when startled and per- 
 plexed with difficulty on one side of a question, to look at 
 the difficulties on the other side. Suppose you reject a doc- 
 trine, or a system, because of something you cannot explain, 
 would .you not encounter difficulties far more formidable in 
 the opposite system } Have you not more evidence and less 
 difficulty on the side you have taken, than you would find if 
 you were to pass over to the other side } There is a one- 
 sided way of looking at these matters which is carried on by 
 some people, which you should avoid. In very many cases, 
 conviction must rest upon this balance of evidence and diffi- 
 culty. Each side has both some apparent proof and some 
 objection, and our business is to determine which has most 
 of the former, and less of the latter. I cannot, therefore, 
 give you a more important piece of advice than this, — never 
 abandon evidence to follow difficulty, for it is like turning 
 away from a lantern, somewhat dim it may be, but still a 
 steady light ; or from the moon, in a mist perhaps ; to run 
 after an ignis fatuus. And at the same time, do not allow 
 yourselves to be driven from your convictions, because you 
 cannot refute all the arguments, or remove all the difficulties, 
 or meet all the objections, which may be brought against 
 "them. There are men, I repeat, of such subtle minds, of 
 such logical power, and so clever in argument, as to maka 
 
152 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 the worse appear the better cause ; who can by fallacy and 
 sophistry sustain the most palpable error, and make that 
 truth appear doubtful which has to you the luminousness of 
 the sun. Never be ashamed to say to such an opponent, 
 ^' I cannot refute your arguments, nor meet your objections, 
 but I am unmoved by them." And here I would reiterate 
 the advice I have already given, — Avoid controversy. Hav- 
 ing found what you believe to be truth — believe it — love it 
 — enjoy it — practise it — but do not be eager to dispute 
 about it. 
 
 6. Whatever may be your convictions of the truth of the 
 religious opinions you have embraced, cultivate with a love 
 of truth, a spirit of charity. There is a medium which it 
 should be your anxiety to discover between indifference to 
 truth and a distempered zeal for it : between latitudinarianism 
 on the one hand, and bigotry on the other. There are some 
 who make truth every thing in religion, others who make it 
 nothing : the former are the advocates of an unsanctified 
 orthodoxy — the latter of an equally unsanctified charity : the 
 one are the worshippers of a creed — the other, the icono- 
 clasts of all creeds : the former say. No matter how well a 
 man acts, if he does not hold these opinions — the others 
 reply. It is no matter what opinions he holds, provided he 
 acts well. Both are wrong. There can be no right belief 
 of the truth which does not lead to holiness : and there can 
 be no holiness which does not spring from right belief of the 
 truth. Be you, therefore, an advocate for truth, for error is 
 sin. Error cannot sanctify. If a man may disbelieve one 
 truth, and be innocent, he may disbelieve two ; if two, ten, 
 if ten, half the Bible ; if half the Bible, the whole. Affect 
 no false candor, no spurious charity, as if all sentiments 
 were equally unimportant This is treason against truth, 
 
PERPLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 153 
 
 and the God of truth. Let not all the various sects, and 
 denominations, and creeds, appear in your eye only as so 
 many beautiful colors of the rainbow. It is a false and bad 
 figure, and is the very germ of infidelity. But, at the same 
 time, guard against the opposite extreme of a want of charity 
 towards those who differ from you. It is not your business, 
 or mine, to fix that boundary-line of religious opinion which 
 divides those who will be saved from those who will be lost- 
 The Church of Rome, with an insufferable arrogance, and a 
 daring invasion of the prerogative of heaven, has fixed that 
 line in her communion. Imitate not this impious assump- 
 tion. And while you avoid this highest of all pretensions, 
 of determining who shall or shall not be admitted to the 
 kingdom of heaven, guard against the lesser mischiefs of 
 controversy ; I mean that bitterness of spirit, and exclusive- 
 ncss of feeling, which we are but too apt to cherish towards 
 those who in lesser matters differ from us. Charity is as 
 much a part of truth as doctrine. No man believes the 
 Bible who rejects charity. The want of charity is as truly 
 a heresy as a disbelief in the divinity of Christ. The want 
 of charity will as certainly exclude a man from heaven, as 
 the want of faith. " Now abide faith, hope, charity, these 
 three ; but the greatest of these is charity." With on© 
 hand, lay hoid of faith ; with the other, lay hold of charity 
 — then, and then only, may you cherish hope. 
 
 And now, Young Men, let me endeavor at any rate, to 
 impress upon you the infinitely, eternally, and therefore inef- 
 fably and inconceivably momentous nature of that subject 
 about which all these controversies are carried on. Oh, what 
 uterests and what issues, beyond the compass and the power 
 of any mind, but that which is infinite, to grasp, are com- 
 prehended in that one word. Religion '. Science, art, lite* 
 7* 
 
154 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 rature, politics, law, medicine, all appertain to time, to earth, || 
 
 to the body ; but religion relates to the soul, to heaven, to 
 eternity. What are all the questions which have been asked, 
 the parties that have been formed, the controversies which 
 have been carried on, in reference to the former of these 
 subjects, but matters of a momentary interest and trifles 
 light as air, compared with the latter. Of what importance 
 are all the questions, the sects, the parties, the controversies, 
 of an earthly nature, to " the congregation of the dead," 
 the inhabitants of the unseen world — the spirits of just men 
 made* perfect — or the lost souls in prison ? What will they 
 all be to you a few years hence : what may they be to you 
 next week ? But the great controversy about religion has 
 interest in all three worlds — heaven — earth — and hell — and 
 will extend that influence through all eternity. This is a 
 controversy in which you, each one of you, are personally 
 interested. It involves your eternal destiny, and will be a 
 matter of infinite moment to you millions and millions of 
 ages hence. Surely, surely, this consideration, if anything 
 can do it, will throw over your mind an air of deep and 
 solemn seriousness. The levity and the frivolity you carry 
 to other questions ; the carelessness and half-heartedness 
 with which you regard other controversies, must be checked 
 here. With a mind looking up into heaven, down into the 
 bottomless pit, and abroad upon eternity, you must ask the 
 question, '' What is truth ?" and with a recollection that 
 your torment or your happiness for ever and ever will be 
 influenced by the answer you decide upon amidst all those 
 which are returned from so many quarters. Oh, could yoa 
 enter thus seriously, and anxiously, and prayerfully into the 
 subject, there would be little danger of your ^oing wrong on 
 this momentous topic. 
 
PERPLIXITT OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 155 
 
 Still you must expect, notwithstanding all your solicitude, 
 to be the subject of some perplexity, as long as you are an 
 inhabitant of this world. Be thankful, however, that what 
 is essential to salvation, is so plain, that he that runs may 
 read. Repent, believe, love, be holy : Is there any 
 mystery ' here ? How many sects agree in this ! Of how 
 many creeds is this the essence ! How much of the strife of 
 controversy lies outside of this circle ! How many minor 
 truths a man may not believe, and yet be saved, if he believe 
 these great fundamentals. How many lesser errors he may 
 have unhappily embraced, and yet not be lost, if he is in no 
 error here ! He that keeps his eye upon the pole-star and 
 the greater constellations, will steer his vessel safely, though 
 he may not be intimately acquainted with the stars of lesser 
 magnitude and brilliancy. 
 
 To adopt, in conclusion, the directions and words of 
 Saurin : "Buy the truth, which requires the sacrifice of 
 dissipation — of indolence — of precipitancy — of prejudice — 
 of obstinacy — of curiosity — of the passions. We comprise 
 the matter in seven precepts : 
 
 " Be attentive. 
 
 " Do not be discouraged by labor. 
 
 " Suspend your judgment. -r 
 
 " Let prejudice yield to reason. 
 
 " Be teachable. 
 
 " Bcstrain your avidity of knowing. 
 
 " In order to edify your mind, subdue your heart." 
 
 But what ! Shall we always live in shades and grope in 
 darkness ? Will there always be a veil between the porch 
 and the sanctuary } Will God always lead us amidst chasm a 
 and gulphs } Shall we ever dwell near the battle-field of 
 
156 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 religious controversy, and be within sound of its artillery 
 and the range of its shot ? Shall we always hear the con- 
 fused noise of the warrior, and the cry of defeat mingling 
 with the shouts of victory ? Shall we always have to struggle 
 with argument from without, and with doubt and suspense 
 within ? 0, no. Presently this night of our ignorance, 
 this dark night, will end, and we shall enter into that blessed 
 world, where there is no need of the sun, because the Lamb 
 is the light thereof. In heaven we shall know all things by 
 a blessed intuition. We shall repose around the fountain of 
 celestial radiance, where neither the sound of controversy, 
 nor the din of arms, will be ever heard. In heaven, wo 
 shall understand all mysteries in nature, providence, grace, 
 and glory. All difficulties will be solved. All objections 
 will be silenced.. How will this perfect light fill us with 
 perfect joy. How delightful will it be to drink knowledge 
 for ever from its divine source, with the perfect assurance, 
 it is pure from any admixture of error. How blissful thus 
 to spend eternity. " This is the revelation of God to us, 
 and there is not in religion a more joyful and triumphant 
 consideration than this perpetual progress which the soul 
 makes in the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving 
 at<in ultimate period. Here truth has the advantage of 
 fable. No fiction, however bold, presents to us a conception 
 so elevating and astonishing as this interminable line of 
 heavenly excellence. To look upon the glorified spirit, as 
 going on from strength to strength ; adding virtue to virtue, 
 and knowledge to knowledge ; making approaches to good- 
 ness which is infinite ; for ever adorning the heavens with 
 new beauties, and brightening in the splendors of moral 
 glory, through all the ages of eternity — has something in it 
 
PERrLEXITY OF RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY. 157 
 
 SO transcendaat and ineffable, as to satisfy the most un- 
 bounded ambition of an immortal mind." 
 
 Young Men — have you this ambition ? If not, take it up 
 from this moment — it is the noblest which God can inspire, 
 or the ^f^man bosom receive. 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH A STUDY FOB 
 YOUTH. 
 
 *• How can I do this great wickedness and sin against God." 
 
 Genesis xxxix. 9. 
 
 The Bibie, viewed apart from its highest character as a 
 revelation of divine, eternal, and immutable truth, and from 
 its design as intended to make men " wise unto salvation," 
 is the most instructive, entertaining, and interesting volume 
 of the world, uniting as it does, every species of writing, every 
 variety of subject, and every style of composition. Hence 
 the testimony of Sir William Jones, a man, who by the 
 exertion of rare intellectual talents acquired a knowledge 
 of arts, sciences, and languages which has seldom been 
 equalled, and scarcely, if ever, surpassed. " I have carefully 
 and regularly perused the Scriptures," says this truly great 
 man, " and am of opinion that this volume, independent of 
 its Divine origin, contains more sublimity, purer morality, 
 more important history, and finer strains of eloquence, than 
 can be collected from all other books in whatever language 
 they may have been written." Such a testimony, borne by 
 ft scholar who was intimately acquainted with twenty-eight 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. loS 
 
 different languages and with the best works which had been 
 published in most of them, deserves attention, and must 
 carry weight with every considerate mind. 
 
 The page of holy writ on which we open this evening 
 justifies the eulogy we have just read : for where is the judge 
 of literary composition, who will not pronounce the history 
 of Joseph to be one of the most exquisitely pathetic narra- 
 tives ever written ? 
 
 Before I proceed to enter upon the character of Joseph, 
 I will point out what appears to me to be, next to the exhi- 
 bition of a splendid example of human excellence, the 
 design of God in preserving his deeply interesting and event- 
 ful history. This narrative is a representation of Providence 
 in miniature. Here we see God working out his wise and 
 benevolent schemes, by means and instruments the most 
 varied, the most unlikely, and seemingly the most opposite ; 
 and by a series of events, which as they arise singly and 
 separately, appear to favor the designs of the bad and to 
 oppress the interests of the good ; but which by a most 
 mysterious connection and operation are all made to terminate 
 on the side of virtue and piety. Here on a small scale, we 
 see a wonderful and complicated mechanism setting in motion 
 those numerous wheels, which, moving in opposite directions, 
 are all made to subserve one wise and holy purpose, and thus 
 to furnish an historical and beautiful illustration of the 
 reconcilinoj declaration, that " All thinsrs work together for 
 good to them that love God." In many parts of Scripture 
 we hear Providence speakings but here we see it acting , 
 and making evil, without altering its nature or excusing its 
 agents, to subserve the good. Here we see that though 
 truth and holiness for awhile may be trodden down by the 
 iron heel of falsehood, vice, and power, they shall at length 
 
IGO THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 lift up the head with joj, and be crowned with glory and 
 honor. 
 
 But we now take up the other purpose of this beautiful 
 narrative — and that is, to exhibit for our admiration and 
 imitation an extraordinary pattern of human excellence. 
 Much of the Bible is historical and biographical. It is a 
 gallery of portraits, both of good and bad men ; some merely 
 sketched in outline ; others painted in miniature ; and some 
 drawn at full length. This makes the Scriptures at once 
 interesting and instructive. We see sin in living shapes — 
 depraved — leprous — beastly — diabolical, and learn to hate it. 
 We see holiness, fair and beautiful, though by no meana 
 perfectly angelical and heavenly, and we are by such examples 
 taught to love it, and helped to acquire it. 
 
 Let us then now contemplate the character of Joseph. 
 It is not my intention, for it is not in my power in a single 
 discourse, to enter very much at length into the details of his 
 touching history. I must take for granted your acquaintance 
 with this ; and can do nothing more than give you so much 
 of the narrative as shall help you in studying his character. 
 
 And first of all let us look at Joseph in that situatioik 
 where the germ of all his future excellences began to 
 develope, — I mean his father's house : for it is unquestion- 
 ably true, and of great importance for all parties to consider, 
 that the rudiments of character are formed in early life, and 
 at home. It is usually then and there those seeds of good 
 or evil are sown which bear in future years their appro- 
 priate fruits. He was the favorite child of his father, who 
 in a manner, most injudicious in itself, most dangerous to 
 to the object of his preference, and most destructive of big 
 own peace, displayed his partiality by " the coat of many 
 colors," and other marks of parental distinction. This par- 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 161 
 
 tiality, though unwisely manifested, was grounded in part on 
 Joseph's exemplary conduct. He was a most dutiful son 
 and one that feared God ; but at the same time he was the 
 object of hatred and envy to his brethren. This was caused 
 partly by his father's partiality, partly by his artless sim- 
 plicity, not perhaps untinctured by a vanity which had been 
 inflated by indulgence, in relating his dreams ; partly by the 
 information which he gave of the misconduct of his brothers ; 
 for all these things tended, doubtless, to increase and exas- 
 perate their ill-will ; but the enmity was produced chiefly 
 by his good conduct and blameless character. They hated 
 him because " their own deeds were evil and their brother's 
 righteous." It was the enmity of the wicked towards the 
 good. He was their constant reprover, by the silent re- 
 proach of his holy example. There, beneath the tent of the 
 patriarch of Canaan, in Joseph's seventeenth year, were laid, 
 in his filial piety and his true religion, the foundations of 
 that noble and lofty character which all nations and ages 
 have delighted to contemplate. I know few situations more 
 trying in themselves, or which require more firmness, humility, 
 meekness, wisdom, and caution, than that of a pious and 
 dutiful child, loved by his parents on account of his excel- 
 lence of character, and at the same time surrounded by 
 brothers of an opposite description. If any of you are in 
 that situation, pray earnestly to God to make his grace sufii- 
 cient for you. 
 
 With the murderous conspiracy of his cruel and unnatural 
 brotliers you are well acquainted. I shall draw no pictures 
 of Joseph's cries and entreaties, when like a lamb in the 
 midst of a company of hungry wolves, he was seized by his 
 brothers and cast into a pit to be left to starve ; but I will 
 Cor one moment suggest how, in that horrible situation lio 
 
162 
 
 must have been sustained and comforted by the religion ha 
 had learnt at home ; and what else could meet the case ? 
 What a situation for one who had never till now been from 
 beneath the protection of paternal care and tenderness , 
 whose face " the wind of heaven " had never, hitherto, 
 visited too roughly ; whose spirit mortification had never 
 galled ; whose heart affliction had never yet pierced. But 
 his gracious God and his easy conscience were with him 
 there ; and in those mournful and desolate circumstances he 
 found that he was not alone. religion ! thou divine and 
 seraphic companion and comforter, thou wilt never leave us 
 however forlorn our condition or gloomy our prospects. 
 
 I also pass by the successful intercession of Judah for his 
 life, and the providential arrival of the Arabian caravan, and 
 follow Joseph down into Egypt to witness his conduct as a 
 servant in the house of Potiphar, to whom he was sold as a 
 slave. Instead of cursing his lot, yielding to sullen despon- 
 dency, and making Potiphar angry and wrathful by his hope- 
 less and paralysing misery, he by the power of religion 
 accommodated himself to his circumstances, and applied all 
 his faculties to serve his master, to secure his confidence, 
 and conciliate his kindness. And he was successful. You 
 see how wise it is, instead of giving up all for lost in unfavor- 
 able circumstances, and sinking into absolute despair, to 
 resolve by God's blessing to do all we can to improve our 
 condition Learn, young man, to bear up with patience, for- 
 titude, and hope, against adverse circumstances. It ia 
 always too soon to despair in this world. It was an old 
 Greek proverb, " "VVe ascend downwards." And in Bunyan's 
 inimitable allegory, the " Valley of Humiliation" lay in the 
 direct road to exaltation. If by any course you are brought 
 into a less favorable situation than you have been accustomed 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSErH. 163 
 
 to occupy, go diligently and cheerfully to work, and deter- 
 mine by God's grace to make even this bitter experience 
 subservient to your future welfare. It may be necessary to 
 prepare you for something higher and better. Never aban- 
 don hope. The mainspring of exertion is broken when this 
 is gone. 
 
 Joseph's conduct in the house of Potiphar was so exem- 
 plary for diligence and fidelity, that it drew upon him first of 
 all, the favor of God, and next, the esteem of man, for he 
 was soon advanced to a high place of trust and honor in the 
 establishment of his master ; the reason of whose conduct 
 in thus promoting his Hebrew slave is given by the historian 
 in the following words : " He saw that the Lord was with him, 
 and the Lord made all that he did to prosper in his hand." 
 Here is one of the ten thousand instances which corroborate 
 the declaration of the apostle, that Godliness is profitable 
 for all things, having the promise of the life that now is, and 
 of that which is to come." True piety is the parent of 
 every virtue which is either useful to man or pleasing to God ; 
 and when confirmed and illustrated by a faithful life, is the 
 best recommendation a youth can offer to one whose confi- 
 dence he wishes to secure. Few men are so blind to their 
 own interest as not to know the value and to appreciate the 
 services of an able, diligent, and faithful servant, and rarely 
 does it happen that such a servant, where there is room for 
 it, is not promoted. Depend upon it, there is a buoyancy in 
 talent and virtue which will make them rise to the surface. 
 *' Seest thou," says Solomon, " a man diligent in business, he 
 shall stand before kings." " I," said Benjamin Franklin," 
 " can attest the truth of that, for I have transacted with five 
 monarchs in my time." It was as a servant that Franklin 
 commenced his wonderful career, and by the fidelity and 
 
164 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 diligence he displayed in that capacity, he laid the foundations 
 of his future fame. Innumerable instances have occurred of 
 eminent and excellent servants becoming partners and pro- 
 prietors of the establishments in which they once acted in a 
 very subordinate capacity. 
 
 In the sermon upon " Entering on Life," I reminded you, 
 that sincere, heartfelt, and very decided piety is necessary 
 to prepare for those sudden, violent, and unexpected temp- 
 tations which often beset the young traveller on life's event- 
 ful journey ; especially in circumstances of promotion and 
 prosperity. Joseph soon experienced the truth of this. He 
 was, we are informed, a young man of such personal appear- 
 ance as was likely to attract the attention and excite the 
 passions of an unprincipled and flagitious woman. Beauty 
 is the production of God, and as one of his gifts is, like 
 every other, to be considered good in itself, and to be received 
 with thankfulness : but how often does it prove a snare to 
 the possessor, and a temptation to others. This had like to 
 have proved more fatal to Joseph than even the envy of his 
 brothers. This last threatened only his body, but that en- 
 dangered his soul. His virtue was vehemently and persever- 
 ingly assailed. Every thing combined to give all but irre- 
 sistible force to the assault. Its nature — so adapted to the 
 passions of youth : its source — a person of high rank and 
 commanding influence, who by her favors could aid his pro- 
 motion, or by her malignity, sure to be roused by disappoint- 
 ment, self-reproach, and bitter resentment, could ensure his 
 ruin : its secrecy — which would cover the crime from every 
 spectator, but that One who is the witness of all deeds : its 
 repetition — carried forward from time to time : its violence 
 — as if she would carry her purpose by assault — all rendered 
 it every thing but certain that Joseph's integrity must yield 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 1G5 
 
 Who would not tremble for him ? Who would not tremble 
 more for himself ? His destiny is suspended upon the man- 
 ner in which he met that fierce assault. If he fall, he will 
 in all probability never rise — but if he stand, he will as 
 probably never fall. If he resist, he is safe for ever after. 
 If he consent, one criminal act will lead to another, till he 
 becomes an abandoned profligate. A first wrong step will 
 render all wrong afterwards, and be an entrance on the road 
 lo ruin. Yes, there are cases in most men's moral history, 
 when the whole character and destiny for all the future depend 
 upon the decision of the mind as regards one single act. 
 Joseph was victorious. Wonderful ! How was this triumph 
 of virtue over vice, of youthful innocence over all but irre- 
 sistible temptation, achieved } First, by a deep seme oj 
 honor. He replied to the seductress, " There is none 
 greater in this house than I ; neither hath he (my master) 
 kept any thing from be but thee, because thou art his wife :" 
 Shall I thus abuse his confidence and requite his kindness .'' 
 Noble youth ! All generations since have done thee honor ^ 
 But whence this delicate sense oi honor ! From infidelity ^ 
 No — for David Hume taught that adultery was but a little 
 thing if known, and if unknown, nothing. Infidelity ! 
 AA'here is the infidel who would not have laughed at the 
 squeamishness of a conscience, which would have hesitated, 
 in such a situation as this ? No : It was religion that made 
 Joseph virtuous in himself and honorable to his master ; for 
 he immediately added, " How shall I do this great wicked- 
 ness and sin against God ?" Yes, there was his shield. All 
 guards but one were absent, and that One, though invisible 
 to sense, now stood revealed to the eye of his faith in this 
 most perilous hour of his existence, and threw around liim 
 the shield of omnipotence, which averted the shaftp of 
 
lG6 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 ricious pleasure, preserved his chastity unsullied, and inspired 
 a deep abhorrence of the sin to which he was now so strongly 
 tempted. Yes, it was his religion, his realizing sense of the 
 Divine presence, that in this crisis of his history determined 
 the purpose that saved him from ruin. He acted under the 
 potent and protecting influence of that impressive considera- 
 tion. Thou God seest me ; and thus endured as seeing 
 him who is invisible. How solemn a reflection. 
 
 u 
 
 Within thy circling power I stand, 
 On every side I find thy hand ; 
 Awake, asleep, at home, abroad, 
 I am surrounded still with God. 
 
 " O may these thoughts possess my breast. 
 Where'er I roam, where'er I rest, 
 Nor let my weaker passions dare 
 Consent to sin — for God is there." 
 
 Young Men away from home, removed from beneath the 
 vigilant eye of paternal superintendence, and exposed to 
 similar or other temptations, look at the power that preserved 
 him^ and that can also preserve you. See where your 
 strength, your safety, your happiness, all lie. There are 
 temptations so strong, so violent, so fascinating to our corrupt 
 nature, that all other restraints but those of true piety will be 
 swept away before them, like cobwebs or chaff" before the 
 force of a tempest. It is beautifully said of the good man 
 " The law of his God is in his heart ; none of his steps shall 
 slide." Seek that support, guidance, and protection, and 
 you will be safe and happy in dangers as imminent as those 
 which hung over this holy and honorable man. 
 
 Voluptuous and profligate youth, votary of licentious 
 pleasure, thou that deridest the prudish scruples of Joseph, 
 
THE CHaKACTER OF JOSEPH. 167 
 
 and art giving truth and meaning to thy scorn by a course 
 of sensuality, place thyself in imagination on the bed of 
 death, at the judgment-seat, or on the brink of the fathom- 
 less abyss of punishment. Through the flames of the 
 bottomless pit seek those persons of whose crimes thou hast 
 been the witness, the accomplice, perhaps the author. Be- 
 hold the pleasures of a moment succeeded by the sufiorings 
 of eternity. Or look up into heaven, where the present 
 mortification of sin is followed by everlasting ages of holiness 
 without labor, and happiness without alloy, and say, which 
 thou wilt then wish thou hadst been on earth, — the lover of 
 sinful pleasure, or the lover of a holy God. 
 
 There is one lesson of momentous consequence for the 
 young, and indeed for all, to learn from the conduct of 
 Joseph in this assault ; and that is, that while some tempta- 
 tions are boldly to be encountered and resolutely overcome, 
 there are others only to be conquered by flight, and to be 
 disarmed by removing to a distance. Joseph fled from the 
 company and solicitations of this shameless woman. He 
 that carries gunpowder about him should not stay and en- 
 deavor to protect himself from the fire, but should instantly 
 get as far from it as he can. So should it be in many cases 
 of temptation — to parley is to be in danger — to listen is to 
 be in jeopardy — to linger is to fall. He that enters with his 
 eyes open into temptation, or remains in it voluntarily, is 
 already vanquished. 
 
 As Potiphar's wife could not corrupt Joseph's virtue, she 
 determined to blast his reputation and eifect his ruin, and 
 brought forward the memorial of her shame as the proof of 
 his guilt. Appearances were unquestionably against him, 
 and shew how even the most spotless purity may sometimes 
 be slandered amidst circumstances calculated to excite sus- 
 8 
 
168 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 picion, and may for awhile lie under the imputation of a 
 crime. " And here again," saj;^ an author, " we have a 
 fresh instance of his greatness of mind. He chooses rather 
 to incur his master's groundless displeasure and to sink under 
 the weight of a false accusation, than to vindicate his own 
 honor hy exposing the shame of a bad woman ; and he leaves 
 the clearing up of his character, and the preservation of his 
 life, to that Grod with whom he had entrusted still higher 
 concerns, those of his immortal soul. And thus the le'ast- 
 assuming, the shamefaced, feminine virtues, temperance, and 
 chastity, and innocence, and self-government, are found in 
 company with the most manly, the heroic qualities, intrepid- 
 ity, constancy, and contempt of death." This is very 
 finely put, but it is not quite certain that the silence of the 
 historian proves also the silence of Joseph as to any defence 
 of hifoself ; nor is it quite clear that either chivalry or trust 
 in Grod should have made him willing to bow down to such 
 an accusation. Perhaps, however, he saw that as he could 
 bring no witnesses, and the matter rested wholly between 
 himself and his tempter, it was useless to reveal the fact, 
 and better to leave his vindication to the Providence of God, 
 who would bring forth his righteousness as the light, and his 
 judgment as the noon-day. 
 
 Joseph was indeed imprisoned, but was infinitely happier 
 there, with his smiling conscience, than was his slanderer 
 amidst all the luxuries of her mansion, tormented as she 
 must have been by her own reflections. No place is fright- 
 ful to a good man but the dungeon of an ill conscience. 
 Free from that Joseph is at large though in prison. Nor 
 can any place be pleasant to one tormented with remorse ; 
 this will convert a paradise into hell. Here again in this 
 seemingly hard condition, we see Joseph maintaining hi» 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 16(« 
 
 self-respect, his confidence in God, his benevolent activity, 
 his obliging disposition, and his general good conduct. By 
 this course of action, he subdued even his jailor, and concil- 
 iated the friendship and affection of one who may be supposed 
 from his occupation, not to have possessed the gentlest 
 nature. He made friends everywhere, and of every body, 
 but of her whose favors would have been his ruin. This 
 was accomplished by the union of piety, general excellence 
 of character, a cheerful disposition, and obliging demeanor. 
 The same course will be followed in other cases with the 
 same effects. 
 
 While suffering unjustly in prison, the inspiration of God 
 came upon him iii the interpretation of the dreams of two of 
 Pharaoh's officers, who after two weary years of ungrateful 
 and criminal forgetfulness on the part of one of them, led to 
 his liberation. In this very ingratitude of the chief butler 
 we see the Providence of God, for had he spoken before of 
 the poor captive whom he ought to have remembered — the 
 king might have given the patriarch his liberty ; but then 
 none of the events which followed would probably have 
 taken place, and the greatest honors to which he attained 
 might have been, to have been numbered among the wise 
 men of the land. How conspicuously Providence appears 
 in all these incidents ! The envy of his brethren ; the 
 lasciviousness of his mistress ; the misconduct and dreams of 
 his fellow-prisoners ; and the ingratitude of one of them — all 
 bad in themselves — yet all meeting, strange to think, in one 
 point — the elevation of Joseph to the throne. Remove one 
 link and the chain is broken. Grod is wonderful in counsel, 
 and excellent in working. 
 
 The dreams of Pharaoh, and their inspired interpretation 
 by Joseph, made way, not only for his liberation, but for his 
 
t70 
 
 advancement to the highest dignity which the monarch could 
 bestow, next to the crown. Instead of the fetters which 
 bound him, he receives Pharaoh's ring of office. Instead of 
 his prison clothes, he was dressed in the fine linen of Egypt, 
 worn only by the great. Instead of the confinement of a 
 prison, he dwells in a palace. Instead of being the servant 
 of a jailor, he is first minister of a monarch, never appearing 
 in public but to be seen in a chariot of state preceded by a 
 herald, calling upon the people to bow the knee. A change 
 so sudden, a transition so great, an elevation so lofty, 
 usually intoxicates the mind, corrupts the heart, and mars 
 the character. It had not this efibct upon our moral hero. 
 Beware of the dangerous influence of sudden and -great 
 prosperity. Joseph's dignity, his courage, his humility, 
 his clemency, on this trying occasion, were astonishing, and 
 are all to be traced up to his piety, which dictated and pro- 
 duced all these virtues, and caused him to maintain the 
 same fidelity and prudence, as the prime minister of state, 
 which he exhibited in the house of Potiphar and in the 
 prison. His holy excellences, as the circle of his influence 
 widened, increased their power, and multiplied their effects, 
 till they replenished the greater circumference as completely 
 as they had done the less. Potiphar 's base and flagitious 
 wife — his tempter and calumniator ; the ungrateful butler ; 
 his own wicked and murderous brethren ; were all now at 
 his mercy : he had an arm long enough to reach, and strong 
 enough to crush, them all ; but with a generosity untinctured 
 by a single particle of malice or resentment, he determined 
 that the sun of his glory should shine forth without a spot. 
 *' Joseph was but thirty years old when he became the prime 
 minister of Pharaoh ; seventeen of which had been spent 
 under the wing of a fond, indulgent parent ; und the other 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 1*71 
 
 thirteen, at that period when the heart is most devoted to 
 pleasure, he had lingered away in all the variety of human 
 wretchedness, but in all the dignity of virtue, all the supe- 
 riority of wisdom, all the delights, pure and sublime, of true 
 piety ; and now, at an age when most men are only begin- 
 ning to reflect and act as reasonable beings, we see him 
 raised, not by accident, nor cabal, nor by petulance, but by 
 undisputed merit, to a situation which one part of mankind 
 look up to with desire, another with awe, and a third with 
 despair." See him, young men, now as a minister of Pha- 
 raoh, serving his royal master during the years of famine 
 and plenty, with a zeal surpassed only by his honesty. 
 What an opportunity did he now possess to amass for him- 
 self, by selfishness and peculation, incalculable wealth. But 
 his fidelity was as signal and illustrious as his situation. He 
 has been blamed by some for taking advantage of the 
 famine, first to impoverish and then to enslave the Egyp- 
 tians. I have not time to examine this charge at any length, 
 nor to enter minutely into the circumstances of this part of 
 his conduct : and perhaps we may not be able to come to 
 any satisfactory conclusion upon it, for want of more infor- 
 mation than is contained in the Scriptural account. There 
 are some expositors who are of opinion that there wag 
 nothing in this transaction which reflects discredit on 
 Joseph's character. That he had no selfish view is evident, 
 and as regards Pharaoh, it must be borne in mind, the 
 government of Egypt, both before and after the famine, was 
 much more despotic and arbitrary than we can approve. If 
 there were in this afiair nothing but a display of ministerial 
 adroitness, in ungenerously employing his superior skill and 
 address in planning and carrying out a system of despotism, 
 let it be viewed as a dark spot on the disc of his glory : but 
 
172 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 it is bvilieved by many that this was not the case. It is clear, 
 it is said in his defence, that after the expiration of the 
 famine, he restored to the people their lands and their liber- 
 ties, upon condition of their paying to the king a fifth part 
 of their produce, which was a kind of corn-tax in lieu, it 
 should seem, of all arbitrary exactions, for the purposes of 
 government ; a tax which in that fertile country, they could 
 easily pay. That Joseph was not an oppressor is evident 
 from the sentiments of gratitude which the Egyptians 
 expressed — ^^' Thou hast saved our lives;'''' and from the 
 veneration and love with which his memory has ever been 
 cherished among them. Instead of enslaving the people, he 
 was the first, say his defenders, that in Egypt limited the 
 power of the crown, settling by a formal ordinance that 
 portion alone which the king could touch. 
 
 Before we pass on, let us just pause for a moment to 
 mark the changeful condition of man upon earth. Compare, 
 or rather contrast, the situation of Joseph now as prime- 
 minister of Egypt, and second only to Pharaoh himself, with 
 his condition as first the slave and afterwards the prisoner 
 of Potiphar. How soon may the most brilliant scene be 
 enveloped in the darkest clouds, and the calm be succeeded 
 by the storm ; on the other hand, how equally soon may 
 these dark clouds roll off and exhibit the orb in more than 
 previous splendor, and the storm give way to a brighter and 
 a sweeter calm. Amidst such vicissitudes, let us indulge 
 neither a careless and confident security in prosperity, nor a 
 settled and gloomy despondency in adversity ; but seek that 
 true piety and that humble trust in God, which shall preserve 
 us in a cheerful and tranquil equanimity of mind, and make 
 us feel as dependent in one condition a? we are hopeful iii 
 the other. 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 173 
 
 '^'"e now turn from Joseph as prime minister of state to 
 contemplate his conduct as a brother and a son. I do not 
 profess to he able to explain how it came to pass that all 
 this while he made no enquiries after his father and brethren. 
 There is a chasm here which we cannot fill up. That it 
 arose neither from resentment nor alienation seems evident 
 from his subsequent conduct. Perhaps he thought he could 
 not communicate the details of his history without inflicting 
 a deeper wound upon his father's heart, by an account of the 
 unworthiness of his other sons, than could be healed by the 
 information of his own life and elevation. Or perhaps, God, 
 whose counsel he sought in all his ways, might have given 
 him an express revelation, directing him at what time and 
 in what manner to make himself known to his family. For 
 the account of Joseph's conduct to his brethren you are 
 referred to the inimitably touching narrative preserved in 
 the book of Genesis. To many readers, doubtless, there 
 will appear to be a somewhat unseemly sporting with their 
 feelings — a want of sincerity in the disguise he assumed and 
 the accusations he preferred — and a degree of profanity in 
 the somewhat heathen language which in one or two in- 
 stances he employed. I will not contend that in all his 
 conduct he was perfectly blameless. There might have 
 been spots in his character, and after comparing it very 
 closely with Scripture, some might be discovered ; and we 
 must disapprove of what is wrong wherever and in whom- 
 soever it is to be found. Sacred history exhibits its charac- 
 ters just as they were, not what in all respects they should 
 have been. Dark spots are most easily discovered upon the 
 whitest garments, and foul blemishes in the fairest reputa- 
 tions. There were, however, obvious reasons for the gene- 
 ral conduct of Joseph. He knew the former wicked 
 
174 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 character of his brethren, and had experienced theii 
 murderous cruelty towards himself; and as he very likely 
 foresaw that this interview and renewed intercourse might 
 lead to their coming down and settling in Egypt, he wished 
 to ascertain how far their present character would, from ita 
 improvement, warrant his encouraging such a step. What 
 might appear, therefore, to others as unnecessary cruelty, 
 was in his intention the wisdom and severity of love. It 
 was the test of fire to the metal, to prove of what sort it is. 
 He wanted to know how far they repented of their sin 
 towards himself, and he therefore placed himself in a position 
 to ascertain this, a position in which he could look into their 
 very hearts, without discovering his own. His love yearned 
 over them, and he longed to tell them how fully and freely 
 he forgave them, but with a prudence and strength of mind 
 which prove not only how good, but how wise and great he 
 was, he laid a stern restraint upon his feelings till the proper 
 moment of disclosure arrived, and the end of postponing it 
 had been fully answered. The whole scene is of such 
 exquisite pathos as is not to be equalled in the creation of 
 fiction. 
 
 At length the full evidence of contrition and amendment 
 having been obtained, and the purpose of the disguise having 
 been accomplished, his heart could endure no longer the 
 torture of concealment ; the pathetic speech of Judah, the 
 sight of his own beloved brother Benjamin, the frequent 
 mention of his father's name, raised such a torrent of the 
 tender and powerful affections of filial and paternal love in 
 his soul, that he suddenly lets fall the mask, and exclaims, 
 *' I AxM Joseph. Doth my father yet live ?" Who can 
 describe, who can imagine their feelings at this discovery ? 
 If they had in his early life actually put him to death, and 
 
THE CHARACTER OV JOSEPH. 175 
 
 his ghost had now started up before them, they could not 
 have felt greatly different. A little mind might have enjoyed 
 the triumph which he had now gained over those who once 
 hated him. He saw their distress — he beheld them dumb 
 with amazement — petrified with terror — tortured with appre- 
 hension — and he instantly dispelled their fears ; calmed their 
 perturbation ; became their apologist, instead of their accu- 
 ser ; and directed their attention to that Providence which 
 had over-ruled their conduct not only to procure his advance- 
 ment, but also for the preservation of the lives of thousands. 
 A less generous, noble, and delicate mind, would have 
 talked much of forgiving theni^ but he entreats them to for- 
 give themselves, as if the other were settled. 
 
 Revengeful and implacable men, whom the least offence 
 inflames, — who never forgive an injury incomparably less 
 than that committed against Joseph — who, with a serpentine 
 cunning, and a blood-hound scent, and a leonine ferocity, 
 pursue the object of your malice, and at last take a demon- 
 like pleasure in his tortures as he writhes under the inflic- 
 tions of your revenge, how little, how contemptible, you 
 appear, when compared with this hero of fraternal love. 
 Pause, young men, upon this instance, and say if there is not 
 more moral greatness in this act of forgiveness than in all 
 the sanguinary heroes of history or romance ? 
 
 You have seen Joseph as a brother^ now contemplate him 
 once more as a son^ I sav once more, for we have seen him 
 already in his youthful days, the comfort of his father's de- 
 clining years. The boy has become a man — the man has 
 become illustrious — and the illustrious individual has become 
 the resident and the minister of a foreign court — and does 
 he still remember and love his father, the old shepherd of 
 Canaan ? Has filial piety outlived his injuries, his changes, 
 8* 
 
] 76 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 his reverses, his elevation ? Or, has Joseph wished and 
 contrived amidst his brilliant fortunes to forget the hoary 
 patriarch ? Again I say, read the beautiful history and see 
 how this son of sons shall answer, by his own conduct, this 
 question. How abrupt the transition in that gush of feeling ! 
 " I am Josejph^ doth my father yet live !" How beau- 
 tiful the exhortation, " Ye shall tell my father all my glory.' 
 How exquisite the admonition, " Haste ye, and go up to my 
 father and say unto him : Thus saith thy son Joseph, God 
 has made me Lord of all Egypt ; come down ; tarry not. 
 And thou shalt dwell in the land of Goshen, and thou shalt 
 be near unto me, thou and thy children, and thy children's 
 children, and all that thou hast, and there will I nourish 
 thee. Ye shall haste and bring down my father hither." 
 
 The joyful news being conveyed to Jacob, he immediately 
 removed with all his family to Egypt. I attempt not to 
 describe the raptures of that interview, when father and son, 
 clasped in each others' arms, found not only words, but tears 
 and sobs too weak to express the overwhelming ecstasies of 
 that scene and that moment in which Jacob could find 
 nothing better fitted to give utterance to his emotion than 
 this, '' Now let me die, since I have seen the face of my son." 
 Would you behold the greatest triumph and the richest trophy 
 of filial love, turn to that glorious spectacle, when the prime 
 minister of Egypt, the man next to Pharaoh himself, led the 
 poor old shepherd of Canaan, leaning upon his arm, into the 
 palace, and before the whole circle of courtiers, introduced 
 him to the monarch, exultingly exclaiming, " My Father." 
 *' Nature, nature ! How honorable thy empire, how 
 glorious thy triumphs." There may, for aught I know, be 
 a more splendid example of filial love than this — but I know 
 not where to find it. While Joseph was indulging in all this 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 177 
 
 luxury of affection for his father, he did not forget hia 
 brethren, and though encircled with the splendors of a court, 
 and invested with its richest hcnors, he was not ashamed to 
 own as his brothers, those whose occupation was odious in 
 the estimation of the Egyptians, and to regard as his greatest 
 distinction, his descent from the herdsman, who was the 
 friend of God. 
 
 Here, young men, is the example of a son, which I com- 
 mend most earnestly and affectionately to your attention and 
 imitation. Be each of you a good son^ not only in youth, 
 but in manhood, and as long as the old man your father 
 lives. There can be no moral excellence where filial piety is 
 wanting. You cannot love your heavenly Father, if you do 
 not love your earthly one. In that sterile ground where this 
 virtue grows not, nothing good can grow, but only a few 
 miserable weeds. Let your conduct be all such as to carry 
 comfort to a father's heart, and let this be to you an object of 
 tender solicitude and constant vigilance. Ask how every thing 
 will affect his peace, and thus imbibe the spirit of that noble 
 Tbeban, Epaminondas, who being asked what he esteemed 
 the happiest circumstance of his life, replied, " That my 
 father and mother were living when I gained the victory of 
 Leuctra." Or if you want a more modern instance of strong 
 filial affection, take Dr. Samuel Johnson's example, borrow- 
 ing, in his extreme poverty, six guineas, to comfort the death- 
 bed of his poor dying mother, and paying the expenses of 
 her funeral with the proceeds of the sale of the manuscript 
 of Rasselas. And especially remember the solemn and in- 
 cumbent duty of maintaining this affection amidst every 
 change of circumstances. Some have dropped and lost 
 their relative affections as they rose in life from the humble 
 vale of poverty ; and having arrived on the summit of wealth 
 
178 THE YOUKG man's FRIEND 
 
 and worldly honor have blushed to own the connections 
 which they left below. I can conceive of cases in which 
 virtue itself may make a son blush to own his father. I 
 mean when the wretched parent has by his misconduct not 
 only disgraced himself, but his family j but for a child to be 
 ashamed of a father simply on account of his poverty, is a 
 disposition of which it is difficult to say which is the greatest, 
 the meanness, the folly, the cruelty, or the wickedness — it 
 is however enough to say it is a compound of all these detest- 
 able ingredients. 
 
 We hasten to contemplate the closing scenes of Joseph's 
 history. He had welcomed his aged father to Egypt, and by 
 his dutiful and loving behavior had filled his latter days 
 with such consolation, and crowned his hoary head with such 
 glory and honor, as, during the seventeen years he enjoyed 
 his pleasing and instructive society, must have alu^ost oblite- 
 rated the recollection of his past deep sorrows. He had 
 settled his brethren in Goshen, and lived beloved and respect- 
 ed by them. Pharaoh and his court continued to him their 
 confidence, and the Egyptians their gratitude and veneration. 
 Jacob at length died, ^nd Joseph gave beautiful proof that 
 neither his sensibilities as a man, nor his piety as a believer 
 in God, had been dried up under the tropical sun of his 
 wonderful prosperity. He fell on the lifeless corpse of his 
 father, wept, and kissed him. It was Jacob's dying request 
 to be buried not in Egypt, but in the land of Canaan ; a 
 request that expressed his faith in the promise of God, which 
 ensured the possession of this country to his descendants. 
 This request was most scrupulously complied with by Joseph, 
 who to do honor to his father's memory, followed his re 
 mains to Canaan, accompanied in the funeral procession by 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. lYS 
 
 a retinue suited to his high rank as the prime minister of 
 Pharaoh. what a son ! 
 
 It now remained to be proved, and so his brethren 
 thought, whether Joseph's forgiveness had been granted 
 to them out of mere respect to their father's feelings, or 
 from the generous impulse of his own. They first sent, 
 therefore, in the most supplicating terms to implore his 
 pardon, enforcing their request by the sacred name of his 
 father, and his father's God ; and then came and pros- 
 trated themselves before him, thus fulfilling the dreams ot 
 his youth, which had excited their envy and hatred. They 
 knew not, even yet, the depths of his generosity, and formed 
 their opinion of him from themselves. He wept over their 
 submission, cheered them with assurance of his continued 
 kindness, and said to them, " Fear not — for am I in the 
 place of Grod. But as for you, ye thought evil against me, 
 but God meant it unto good. Now, therefore fear ye not ; 
 I will nourish you and your little ones. And he comforted 
 them, and spake kindly unto them." Noble-minded Joseph. 
 What a brother ! What a beautiful example of holy charity ! 
 
 Joseph lived fifty-four years after this. The principal 
 interest of his eventful life was gone ; the chequered scene 
 of cloud and sunshine was over, and year succeeded to year 
 of unvarying splendor, and the remaining history is com- 
 prised in a few sentences. He difi'used happiness around 
 him, and saw his father's house and his own descendants 
 greatly multiplied. But as neither station, nor power, nor 
 wealth, nor piety, nor all these combined can preserve from 
 the stroke of death, Joseph laid down his honors at the 
 feet of the King of Terrors, and was gathered to his fathers, 
 " Grief finds a cure — usefulness a period — glory a decay — 
 and pride a destroyer — in the grave." So he found it 
 
180 THE YOUXG man's FRIEXD. 
 
 The piety which had been the guide of his youth, the guard 
 of his middle life, and the prop of his old age, sustained him 
 to the last, and he died in faith of the promise of God, 
 requesting that his remains might be preserved and his bones 
 carried to Canaan, whenever the Lord should visit his people, 
 and restore them to the Land of promise. This request, 
 similar in nature and design to that of his father, like that 
 was sacredly fulfilled ; for when the Israelites, nearly two 
 centuries afterwards, left Egypt, notwithstanding the hurried 
 circumstances of their flight, they repaired to his sepulchre, 
 exhumed his bones — which as a precious legacy they carried 
 with them amidst all their wanderings in the wilderness— 
 and at length interred them in that sacred spot where already 
 reposed the dust of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. 
 
 It is scarcely necessary to remark, that the character of 
 Joseph is a deeply interesting one, which combines the 
 sobriety of truth with the charms of fiction. The variety of 
 incident — the scenes of true pathos — the constant vicissi- 
 tudes — the vivid contrasts of character — the unexpected 
 turns of fortune — the struggles of exalted piety with temp- 
 tation, and the signal victories of truth and virtue — the 
 working of the various passions and the play of the diversi- 
 fied afi"ections of humanity — together with the intermixture 
 of supernatural interposition with the ordinary courses of 
 nature and events which it contains — all invest this history 
 with a fascination which nothing can surpass. Every one 
 who has ever read it has confessed its power. The peasant 
 and the philosopher — it has been truly said — the child and 
 the adult — the believer and the infidel — the men of all 
 nations and all ages — have admired, delighted in, and been 
 edified by, a story, which clothed with all the graces of 
 
THE CII.^.IACTER OF JOSEPH. 181 
 
 eloquence, conveys the purest and sublimest lessons of pietj^ 
 and morality. 
 
 This is a real history and not a fiction. I do not deny that 
 even those examples which are merely the creations of genius 
 and the ofispring of imagination, have some power over the 
 mind, or that truth and holiness even in fabh , may inspire 
 affection and stimulate imitation ; but it is with a power far 
 less commanding than that of fact. Whatever effect such 
 exhibitions of virtue and vice may have, it is weakened both 
 at the time and in recollection, by a secret whisper, "It is 
 all unreal." The perusal of such descriptions, however 
 strongly it may excite the imagination, has little hold upon 
 the conscience, and is rarely followed by any lasting results 
 upon the character. The effect of moral faUes and moral 
 facU upon the mind is respectively not unlike that of a 
 picture which is a work of pure fancy, as compared with a 
 panorama of a real scene. Now the character of Joseph is 
 a reality. 
 
 It is a scriptural character, on which the hand of God 
 has been specially employed, both in its production and in 
 its exhibition. God has not only lavished upon it the riches 
 of his power, wisdom, and grace, in forming and finishing it 
 as one of the most beautiful specimens of his divine art and 
 workmanship, but he has also set it in the gorgeous frame of 
 inspiration, and suspended it in his own Scripture gallery of 
 portraits of holy men of old, where he exhibits it for admira- 
 tion, and also for imitation, and which though now nearly 
 four thousand years old, is as fresh as when it was just finish- 
 ed by the pencil of the Divine hand. 
 
 It is a character which countless millions have beheld 
 with admiration, and multitudes of them with anxious, 
 studied, and successful imitation. It has been held up before 
 
182 
 
 the youth of all nations, and all ages, whither the Bible has 
 gone. How many have been fortified in their struggles, 
 against sin, and made victorious over temptation by the holy 
 exclamation of this noble youth, " How shall I do this great 
 wickedness and sin against Grod ?" It comes therefore to 
 you recommended and sanctioned by the experience of 
 numbers. 
 
 The basis of this beautiful specimen of sanctified humanity 
 was laid in true religion. All that lofty and noble structure 
 of excellence which this history exhibits, rose upon the 
 foundation of the belief and fear of God. It began in the 
 house of his father Jacob, while he was yet a boy, and it 
 was on this account that the patriarch cherished the partiality 
 which he so unwisely displayed. Joseph " remembered his 
 Creator in the days of his youth." The fervent, consistent, 
 and triumphant piety he manifested abroad, he gained while 
 under the parental roof. Those seeds of excellence which 
 grew up, and protected, and adorned the young man from 
 home, were sowed by the hand of his father at home. What 
 security is there for moral excellence without religion, and 
 what security for religion except it be taken up in youth } 
 It was religion, I repeat emphatically, that was the sub- 
 stratum of all Joseph's excellence. 
 
 The character of Joseph is as symmetrical as it is well 
 based. There is a beautiful harmony and proportion in it. 
 You do not see one excellence flourishing amidst many im- 
 perfections, like a flower amidst many weeds in a wilder- 
 ness — but a garden of beautiful plants^ all exhibiting their 
 colors and mingling their fragrance ; nor like a single column 
 rising amidst ruin and surrounding desolation — but a majestic 
 temple, with all its parts in all their orderly arrangements 
 and all their exquisite proportions. Here we see the son, 
 
THE CHARACTEP OF JOSEPH. 183 
 
 the brother, the servant, the master, the ruler — each in ita 
 single and separate excellence, and all combined and har- 
 monized in one glorious and lovely character. Here are no 
 eccentricities — no anomalies — no distortions — no extrava- 
 gancies ; no attempt to excuse great irregularities in some 
 things, by as great excellencies in others — no balancing of 
 virtues against vices — no compensative processes — but admi- 
 rable consistency — beautiful uniformity — in short, that ex- 
 quisite completeness which strikes the eye of the observer 
 from whatever point of view it is contemplated. How inflex- 
 ible in temptation — how cheerful and active in adversity — 
 how modest, humble, dignified, and holy, in prosperity. In 
 him were united the sagacity of the statesman, the penetra- 
 tion of the prophet, the firmness of the believer, and tho 
 purity of the saint. Goodness came first, greatness followed , 
 and the former remained fixed in the latter, like the jewel 
 set in gold. 
 
 Young men, what a character is here ! how worthy of your 
 study — in which you see set forth tke, dangers you may have 
 to encounter from excessive parental indulgence — from inju- 
 rious treatment — from living away from home in a corrupt 
 state of society — from violent and unexpected temptation — 
 from being entrusted with the interests of others — from 
 coming into possession of great wealth, exalted station, and 
 public honor. What a host of perils ! And here you learn 
 in his piety — meekness — integrity — diligence — economy — 
 dignity — sympathy — forgiveness — filial regard — and depend- 
 ence upon God — the many excellences you should imitate ; and 
 the means by which these perils are to be vanquished. Nor 
 less strikingly do you see in his end the rewards that crown 
 a holy and virtuous life — you see Tirtue crowned with safety 
 
184 THE TOUNa man's friend. 
 
 — with peace — with riches — with honor — with usefulness— 
 with heaven. 
 
 It is possible that curiosity may lead some of the parents 
 of the youths who may purchase this sermon, to look through 
 its paf^es, and should this be the case, let the following 
 remarks arrest their attention. 
 
 How momentous a duty is it on their part, to give sound 
 religious instruction to their children at the earliest period 
 in wliich they can receive it, and endeavor by the most judi- 
 cious, affectionate, and persevering methods, to form the 
 religious character. 
 
 Of what great consequence it is in order to promote the 
 peace of families to avoid the manifestation of partiality for 
 any one child, by any unwise marks of distinction. 
 
 Parents, you know not how early your children will be 
 removed from you, which is an additional motive to train 
 them up in the fear of Grod, that they may leave home forti- 
 fied by true piety, to encounter the temptations of the world, 
 and to endure the trials of life. 
 
 It may be that the child long lost to you may be restored 
 under circumstances of such delight as more than to compen- 
 sate for his absence, and the suspense concerning him. The 
 pious son who is removed from your family at a tender age, 
 and for a long time has no interest in your affairs^ may prove 
 to be the main pillar of your house, when there is no other 
 person to prevent its fall. 
 
 It is possible, and even probable, that the piety of one 
 pious child may become in following years the means of 
 reformation and conversion to many others in your family, 
 who had abused pious intructions in their early years, and 
 fallen into the ways of vice and wickedness. 
 
 Many a parent whose heart was at one time well-nigh 
 
THE CHARACTER OF JOSEPH. 185 
 
 broken by the circumstances of his family, has lived to see 
 the tide of his domestic sorrow turned, and has ended a 
 cloudy and stormy day, with a calm and beautiful sunset. 
 
 A pious child is a father's best companion, next to God 
 himself, amidst the infirmities of old age, and in the chamber 
 of sickness and death. 
 
 But it is you, my young friends, and you especially. Young 
 Men, who should consider this history. Give yourselves 
 time to study it, and seek grace to imitate it, as far a^s the 
 principles on which it is founded and the virtues which com- 
 pose it shall apply to your own circumstances. And when 
 you have thus studied it for its importance, admired it for 
 its beauty, and copied it for your own advantage — ascend 
 from it to the contemplation of that still more glorious, per- 
 fect, and august example which is given us in our Lord 
 Jesus Christ, of whose personal history it furnishes, though 
 not perhaps a type, yet a parallelism, which is most singu- 
 larly striking. Joseph envied by his brethren ; sold into 
 Egypt ; degraded to the condition of a servant ; exalted from 
 the dungeon to the neighborhood of the throne ; invested 
 with power ; drawing his perishing kindred to him ; and 
 bestowing upon them a possession in the best of the land, at 
 any rate reminds us of Him, if it does not actually prefigure; 
 Him, who was hated by the Jews ; sold by one of his 
 apostles ; crucified by the Romans, and thus was made of no 
 reputation, but was afterwards raised from the cross to a 
 throne above the skies. Behold him ascending on high ; 
 receiving gifts for men ; attracting millions to him for salva- 
 tion ; and conferring upon them an inheritance incorruptible 
 undefiled, and that fadeth not away. Thus unite the Old 
 and the New Testament histories, and combine in yourselves 
 the character of Joseph with the mind of Jesus. 
 
THE STUDY OF THE BOOK OF PROVERBS RECOM- 
 MENDED. 
 
 '• The Proverbs of Solomon, the son of David, King of Israel. 
 
 " To know wisdom and instruction ; to perceive the words of under- 
 standing : 
 
 '' To receive the instruction of wisdom, justice, and judgment, and 
 equity ; 
 
 " To give subtilty to the simple, to the young man knowledge and 
 discretion." 
 
 Peoverbs i., 1 — 4. 
 
 In the subject we are to consider this evening, we have 
 another proof and a fine illustration of the opening senti- 
 ment of the last sermon— I mean the variety, beauty, and 
 usefulness of the Holy Scriptures. In that discourse we saw 
 and felt the fascination of sacred narrative ; in this we shall 
 see no less prominently, and feel, 1 hope, no less powerfully, 
 the value of Scripture proverbs : and if that presented to us 
 a chain of gold, in which each event was a distinct link, yet 
 all were so conjoined as to form a splendid whole ; this will 
 present a string of the richest pearls, of which each by itself 
 is a separate and valuable whole. 
 
 Proverbs are short sentences containing a maxim of wis- 
 
THE BOOK OF PliOVERBS. 187 
 
 dom, or expressing a well-known truth or fact ascertained 
 by experience or observation. These have ever constituted 
 a method of human teaching, especially in countries of little 
 civilization, where books were few or unknown, and men 
 depended for their knowledge upon tradition. Among such 
 people this method is more likely to produce effect than any 
 other, if we except the allegorical, for it professed, as Bishop 
 Lowth remarks, not to dispute but to command ; not to 
 persuade but to compel. It conducts men, not by a circuit 
 of argument, but leads them immediately to the approba- 
 tion and practice of integrity and virtue. In order to render 
 it more pleasing, as well as more powerful, the instructors of 
 mankind added to their precepts the graces of harmony, and 
 illuminated them with metaphors, comparisons, and other 
 embellishments of style. It prevailed much among the 
 Hebrews, and continued to the latest ages of their literature. 
 But it has also been adopted by people far advanced in 
 refinement, yea, by all the nations upon earth. ^ The prevail- 
 ing characteristics of a good proverb, are brevity, that it may 
 be easily remembered — point, that it may stimulate — and 
 elegance, that it may please. And how all these apply to the 
 Proverbs of Solomon you know full well. 
 
 Let us now then enter on a consideration of this admirable 
 portion of Holy Scripture. 
 
 First. We will consider its Author. It opens with 
 ascribing this honor to Solomon. The tradition of the 
 church ascribes the Canticles to him, as'its author, when a 
 young man — the Book of Proverbs when he was in the mid- 
 dle of life — and the Book of Ecclesiastes it considers to be 
 his confessions as a penitent, mourning over his dark and 
 winding aberrations from the path of truth and holiness. 
 
 Several of the early sages, or wise men, of Greece, were 
 
188 THE YOUNv& man's FRIEND. 
 
 rendered illustrious by a few well-known maxims : but how 
 limited was their wisdom in this respect, though posterior to 
 Solomon, to that which blazed forth from his wonderful 
 genius, " to whom God gave wisdom and understanding 
 exceeding much, and largeness of heart, even as the sand 
 that is on the sea shore. And Solomon's wisdom excelled 
 all the wisdom of all the children of the east country, and 
 all the wisdom of Egypt : — and his fame was in all nations 
 round about j and he spake three thousand proverbs, and his 
 songs were a thousand and five " 1 Kings, iv. 30-33. 
 
 Considering the early age of the world in which he lived, 
 he was probably the most extraordinary genius that ever 
 appeared on our earth. " Magnificence was his identifying 
 attribute. And alas, alas, for the weakness of humanity — 
 the dangers of knowledge — and the pride of intellect, wealth, 
 and power — even when he sinned, as most awfully he did, it 
 was with a high hand, on a large scale, and with a kind of 
 royal gusto :• he did not, like common sinners, sip at the cup 
 of corruption, but drank of it, ' deep and large,' emptying it 
 to the dregs : and when he suffered, his groans seemed to be 
 those of a demi-god in torment. He stood like a pyramid, 
 the shadow he cast in one direction was equal to the light 
 he received in the other. An example his which proves that 
 any great disproportion between gifts and graces, renders 
 the former as fatal as a knife is to the suicide, or the power of 
 writing to the forger. We ardently hope that Solomon 
 became a true penitent. But if he did not, his writings so 
 far from losing their value, would gain new force ; the figure 
 of their fallen author would form a striking frontispiece, and 
 these solemn warnings would receive an amen, as from tho 
 oaves of perdition. A slain Solomon ! — since fell Lucifer 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 189 
 
 the son of the morning, what more impressive proof of the 
 power of evil."* 
 
 It is clear from information contained in the book itself, 
 that Solomon did not publish the whole during his life. 
 The latter part, from the twenty-fifth chapter, forming an 
 appendix, was collected after his death and added to what 
 appears to have been more immediately arranged by himself. 
 
 What a production for one mind ! and when we add to 
 this the Book of Ecclesiastes, we stand amascd at the intel-< 
 lect which could have poured forth such a fund of practical 
 wisdom. 
 
 Of the DIVINE AUTHORITY of this book as a part of the 
 inspired Canon there can exist no doubt. It is frequently 
 quoted in the New Testament, and was evidently considered 
 by the apostles as a treasure of revealed morality. Such 
 indeed it is — a mine of divine wisdom which may be ever 
 explored and worked without being ever exhausted. What 
 Cicero said of Thucydides applies far more truly to this work 
 of Solomon, is is so full of matter that it comprises as many 
 sentences as words. 
 
 Secondly. It will help you, my young friends, better to 
 understand this book if you consider its scope and design. 
 " All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profita- 
 ble for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in 
 righteousness, that the man of God may be thoroughly 
 furnished unto all good works." 2 Tim. iii, 16. But this 
 is a description of the Bible as a whole, and not of each 
 separate part. One portion may be more full in doctrine, 
 and therefore more important in reference to this, than some 
 others. Another portion may relate more specifically to 
 
 * Giifilian's " Bards of the Bible." A splendid book, which I most 
 cordially and earnestly recommend to the young. 
 
190 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND 
 
 practice, and have more value as a ri^e of conduct, than 
 those which speak only of doctrine. We go for information 
 concerning the person, mission, and work of Christ, with 
 the way of pardon and salvation, to the prophecies of Isaiah 
 in the Old Testament, and to the Gospels and Epistles of the 
 apostles in the New Testament ; but the Book of Proverbs, 
 while it supplies us with no information, or but a dim light 
 on these momentous topics, furnishes us with invaluable rules 
 for our conduct in life. The beauty, force, and value of 
 these admirable maxims lie in their pradical design and 
 character. If we had no other book of Scripture than this, 
 in vain should we seek here for a solution of that problem, 
 " How shall man be just with God," or for an answer to that 
 question, " What shall I do to be saved .?" But, thanks bo 
 to Grod, we have other portions of Holy Writ, and having 
 learnt in them how as sinners we are to be justified, and our 
 peace with God is to be obtained, we come back to this, as 
 well as to others, to learn how the pardoned and regenerated 
 man is to conduct himself in all his various relations, situa- 
 ations, and circumstances. It is wholly a practical book, 
 and teaches us " to deny ungodliness and worldly lusts, and 
 to live soberly, righteously, and godly, in the present evil 
 world." Nor is this to be thought a low grade in the Divine 
 scheme of revelation. The truth as it is in Jesus is " a 
 doctrine according to godliness." Holy living is the end 
 of all truth — " Sanctify them," prayed our Lord for his 
 apostles, " by thy truth." The grand scope of the Prov- 
 erbs then is, and can God propose, or man conceive, a 
 higher ? to explain the nature of true wisdom — to shew its 
 importance — to demonstrate its necessity — to urge its acquisition 
 — and to enforce its practice. 
 
 How lofty a place among the objects of human pursuit ha» 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 191 
 
 been assigned to wisdom. What a stir in the world of 
 mind has that word made through all ages, from the history 
 of Egypt to that of Greece. All the most gifted intellects 
 of antiquity have started in quest of this most precious 
 acquisition. Every country has been visited — every oracle 
 consulted — every source of information explored, to find out 
 wisdom. Yet all have been searched in vain, as long as the 
 inquiry was conducted by unaided reason. When Pythagoras 
 was complimented by the tyrant of Syracuse as the m^eman, 
 he modestly refused the flattery, declaring that he was not 
 the possessor of wisdom, but only its lover seeking after it — 
 a philosopher. You may see this subject finely illustrated in 
 the Book of Job, where in that wonderfully sublime portion 
 of Scripture and in one of the sublimest of its chapters, the 
 twenty-eighth, we find the question proposed for the solu- 
 tion of the universe, " W/iere shall wisdom he founds and 
 what is the place of understanding ?" And when man 
 through ignorance is silent — and the depth says, It is not in 
 me — and death and destruction reply that they have only 
 heard the fame thereof — then cometh forth God from his 
 pavilion of darkness as the divine teacher of wisdom : and 
 what is it that, after all the researches and opinions and con- 
 flicting systems of philosophers, He proclaims to be true 
 wisdom ? Not some profound secret of nature which had 
 baffled the inquiries of philosophers. Not some great prin- 
 ciple of political science which was to regulate the affairs and 
 change the destinies of empires. Not some new theory of 
 economic potency, which was to direct the stream of com- 
 merce and open new sources of the wealth of nations. No : 
 these were not the sort of communications most suited to the 
 grandeur of his nature or the exigencies of ours — " To man 
 he saith — Behold the fear -f the Lordj that is wisdom^ and 
 9 
 
192 THE YOUNG xMAN S FRIEND. 
 
 to depart from evil^ that is understanding.'''^ It required 
 the revelatioa of God to settle this quention, " What 
 is wisdom ?" — and he has settled it once and for ever. 
 This wisdom is Religion. This is man's highest wisdom as a 
 rational, moral, and immortal creature. It is his wisdom on 
 earth and will be his wisdom in heaven. It is his wisdom in 
 time and will be his wisdom through all eternity. Philosophers 
 of every country, hear it ! Shades of Pythagoras — Socrates 
 — Plato — hear it ! Divines and moralists, hear it ! And ye, 
 young men, the objects of my solicitude and my address, 
 hear it ! The fear of the Lord that is wisdom^ and to de~ 
 part from evil, that is understanding. 
 
 This is the subject and design of the Book of Proverbs, 
 It opens with this glorious theme, and continues it through- 
 out the book, where wisdom herself, by a beautiful personi- 
 fication, is represented as disclosing her own nature and 
 teaching her own lessons, in piety towards God — and all the 
 moralities — the charities — the amenities — and courtesies of 
 social and domestic life. Here the basis of all sound morality 
 is laid in the fear of God. On this broad, deep foundation of 
 religion, is raised a superstructure of morals, which combines 
 the duties and the excellencies of the good monarch — the good 
 subject — the good neighbor — the good master — the good 
 husband — the good son — the good servant. 
 
 Thirdly. It may help you better to understand thia 
 extraordinary book if you are enabled to perceive the parts 
 into which it is divided ; and which though not very notice- 
 able by a superficial glance, yet really exist. These parts are 
 three. The first includes the nine first chapters, in which 
 wisdom, or the practical knowledge of God, is setfoitb with 
 great copiousness and variety of expression as the Oiily source 
 and foundation of true virtue and happiness. Thiy. portion 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 198 
 
 seems to be principally addressed to, and intended for, youth. 
 The sins, temptations, and dangers, incident to this period 
 of life are exhibited in the most striking descriptions — the most 
 glowing colors. All the beauties of diction and of metaphor 
 —all the charms of eloquence and the ornaments of poetry 
 — all the persuasions of tenderness — all the expostulations of 
 love — and all the commands of authority, are employed to 
 induce the young man to turn away from sin and to practice 
 holiness.* This part may be designated " A manual for 
 youthy 
 
 The second part extends from the tenth to the end of the 
 twenty-fourth chapter, and comprises precepts which seem 
 intended for those who have advanced from youth to man- 
 hood—precepts relating to all the details of social life. Here 
 the transactions of secuUr business are alluded to, and the 
 whatsoever things are true, and just, and honest, and pure, 
 and lovely, and of good report, arc stated with a minuteness, 
 and enforced with an earnestness, that are most edifying and 
 impressive. This may be called " TIi£, tradesman^ direc- 
 tory.'*'^ 
 
 The third part begins at the twenty-fifth chapter and goes 
 on to the end of the book, and contains the appendix of mis- 
 cellaneous Proverbs, collected after Solomon's death. The 
 two last chapters having been written very probably by 
 separate hands, but preserved by Divine care, and under 
 Divine inspiration were added to the sacred canon. And 
 
 * Mr. Bridges, whose admirable exposition of the Proverbs supplies 
 a few of the remarks of this sermon, has published the first nine chap- 
 ters of his work, separated from the rest, which he entitles " A Manual 
 for Youth," which I most strenuously recommend as an admirable 
 guide for young men. 
 
194 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 this may not inappropriately be called " JL mirror for 
 females.''^ 
 
 Fourthly. But let us now enter upon a general, and it 
 can be but general, examination of the conteiits of this book. 
 
 1. I would direct your attention first of all to the very 
 appropriate and impressive terms which Solojnon has selected ^ 
 nnder the direction of the Spirit of God^ to set forth the prin- 
 cipal subjects of the book, — I mean folly and wisdom. 
 These two words are of course to be understood in a practical 
 sense, as referring to moral rather than intellectual subjects, 
 — as designating indeed, sin and holiness. By the fool we 
 are to understand not the man of weak understanding, but 
 of bad heart and vicious conduct : and by the wise man, 
 not the individual of large knowledge, but of genuine religion. 
 It is true in many places wisdom and folly are employed by 
 the writer to denote the deficiency or the exhibition of general 
 excellence, in their specific branches and details : but their 
 generic meaning is sin or wickedness. This is plain from 
 that admirable definition, "The fear of the Lord is the 
 beginning of wisdom," and from that other text of an oppo- 
 site nature; "Fools make a mock of sin," All sin is not 
 only wicked, but it is foolish ; and every sinner, whatever may 
 be his intellectual attainments, is not only a transgressor, but 
 a fool. Nothing is considered more reproachful than this 
 appellative ; hence many, more jealous for their intellect than 
 for their heart, would rather be called a knave than a fool. 
 Sin then is folly — it is declared so by God — it is thought so by 
 all holy angels and men, and is proved to be such by the expe- 
 rience of mankind in the consequences of poverty, disease, 
 shame, and misery, which it often brings after it in this 
 world, and the certain destruction with which it is followed 
 in the world to come. Look at the prodigal, wasting his 
 
 4 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 193 
 
 substance among Larlots and in riotous living — the idle profli- 
 gate — the extravagant spendthrift — the besotted drunkard — 
 the diseased debauchee — the dishonest servant — the mad- 
 dened gamester — how wicked is their conduct — yes, but how 
 foolish also ! Is it not folly to wage war against heaven — 
 to contend with the Almighty — to barter away the joys of 
 immortality for the pleasures of sin, which are but for a 
 season ; and for the gratification of a moment to incur the 
 bitter pains of eternal death ? On the other hand, if there 
 be holiness in religion, there is also wisdom. To secure the 
 favor of Grod — to be saved by Christ — to have a title to 
 eternal glory — to have peace of conscience — to control the 
 passions — to be comforted in sorrow — to secure the germ of 
 every virtue, and the death of every corruption — in short to 
 be wise unto salvation hereafter, and to have that which will 
 best promote all our interests here — is to be wise indeed. 
 This is the truest, the noblest, the only wisdom. What is 
 the wisdom displayed in amassing wealth, acquiring fame, or 
 gratifying appetite, compared with this } Surely that must 
 be the deepest of folly which ruins estate, body and soul — 
 and that the highest wi:sdom which saves all. 
 
 II. I next select a few single Proverbs for the sake of 
 holding them up and showing their beauty and their value. 
 And here I can but pluck a few flowers at random from a 
 garden which is enlivened by the bloom, and perfumed with 
 the odor of a thousand others, as beautiful and as fra- 
 grant as those I gather. How tender and how lovely are 
 such sayings as these. " The path of the just is as the 
 shining light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect 
 day." " The memory of the just is blessed." " The mouth 
 of the righteous is a well of life." " Hope deferred maketh 
 the heart sick." " The heart knoweth its own bitterness, 
 
196 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 and a stranger intermeddleth not with its joy." A merry 
 heart doeth good like a medicine." " Even in laughter the 
 heart is sorrowful, and the end of that mirth is heaviness." 
 " Better is a dinner of herbs, where love is, than a stalled ox, 
 and hatred therewith." "The beginning of strife is as the 
 letting out of water, therefore leave off contention before it 
 is meddled with." " Faithful are the wounds of a friend, 
 but the kisses of an enemy are deceitful." " As a bird that 
 wandereth from her nest, so is the man that wandereth from 
 his place." " As iron sharpeneth iron, so doth the counte- 
 nance of a man his friend." " A foolish son is the grief of 
 father, and bitterness to her that bare him." " Open rebuke 
 is better than secret love." Such are but specimens, taken 
 almost at random from this vast and all but inexhaustible 
 storehouse of wisdom. What mind of the least perception 
 or taste must not, does not, admire the point and the 
 elegance of these beautiful aphorisms. 
 
 1 can only allude to the principal topics on which the 
 wisdom of Solomon was employed in this collection of golden 
 sentences. Here are innumerable sayings on all the duties of 
 religion towards God, on filial affection, on the right use of 
 speech and the government of the tongue — on ability, dili- 
 gence, industry, honesty, and honor in trade — on prudence 
 in domestic affairs — on friendship and companionship — on 
 forethought and anticipation of the future — on covenants 
 and suretyship — on the obligations of kings and subjects, of 
 husbands and wives, of masters and servants — ^yea, on what 
 subject connected with social existence, not only in its 
 greater concerns, but in all its minute and delicate ramifi- 
 cations, may we not find some sententious remark, some 
 pithy saying, which remembered, would be of vast service to 
 U8. Rules for the house of God, for our own habitations, 
 
THE BOOK OF I'ilOVElinS. 19*7 
 
 for the shop, the pailoi", and even ihe kitchen, may all be 
 found here. The character of every individual, whatever be 
 his rank, station, or social relation, may find a mould here in 
 which it may be cast, and from which it would come forth 
 beautiful, useful, and admirable. 
 
 III. But leaving particular and isolated proverbs, I go on 
 to select and exhibit a few of the beautiful allegories^ or 
 yerha'ps more properly, personifications, which are scattered 
 over this wondrous hook. Metaphors and similes abound, in 
 seemingly grand and endless confusion, like the single stara 
 of the firmament ; while allegories which are but extended 
 metaphors, are to be seen here and there standing out like a 
 magnificent constellation amidst the single stars. 
 
 I can mention only two or three of these, for they are too 
 numerous to be all of them considered. Solomon seemed to 
 delight in the use of the allegory. And first of all, let me 
 direct your attention to the personification of religion in the 
 first chapter. " Wisdom crieth without, she uttereth ber 
 voice in the streets ; she crieth in the chief place of con- 
 course, in the openings of the gates : in the city she uttereth 
 her words. How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simpli- 
 city, and the scorners delight in their scorning, and fools 
 hate knowledge ^ Turn ye at my reproof ; behold I will 
 pour out my Spirit upon you, I will make known my words 
 to you." — Chap. i. 20—23. How finely is this wrought, when 
 religion is thus seen, not retiring to the cloister or the cell, 
 not even confined to places of worship — but going through 
 the streets, standing in the gates, entering into public assem- 
 blies, and delivering her instructions, breathing out her 
 expostulations, urging her counsels, administering her re- 
 bukes, and denouncing her threatenings, to the congregated 
 multitudes — ihe ma.ss of the people. 
 
108 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 Nothing can be conceived more apt, or more beautiful, ot 
 more sublime, than that personification of Wisdom, which he 
 introduces in the eighth chapter, exhibiting her not only as the 
 director of human life and morals, as the inventor of arts, as 
 the dispenser of wealth, of honor, and of real felicity, but 
 as the immortal offspring of the Omnipotent Creator, and as 
 the eternal associate in the Divine counsels. 
 
 " When he prepared the heavens, I was present ; 
 When he described a circle on the face of the deep : 
 When he disposed the atmosphere above ; 
 When he established the fountains of the deep ; 
 When he published his decree to the sea, 
 That the vi^aters should not pass their bound ; 
 When he planned the foundations of the earth; 
 Then was 1 by him as his otfspring ; 
 And I was daily his delight ; 
 I rejoiced continually belore him. 
 I rejoiced in the habitable parts of the earth, 
 And my delights were with the sons of men."* 
 
 "It is a difficult thiug to personify an attribute well ; and 
 to sustain it through a simile or an apostrophe is not easy ; 
 but to supply a long monologue for the lips of Eternal 
 Wisdom ! This has Solomon done, and not degraded the 
 mighty theme. ""f 
 
 Turn now to another of these beautiful personifications, 
 to one which will come more home to your own condition 
 and circumstances. 
 
 "Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth 
 understanding. 
 
 * Proverbs viii. 27-31, Lowth's Translation. I must express my 
 entire conviction that this chapter is intended as a personification oi 
 wisdom, and not as a prophetic desc-iption of our Lord Jesus Chiist 
 
 t GiJfillan. 
 
THK BOOK OF TROVERBS. 199 
 
 "For the merchandize thereof is bet-^^r than the merchandize (A 
 silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. 
 
 " She is more precious than rubies, and all the things thou canst de- 
 sire are not to be compared unto her. 
 
 '' Length of days in her right hand, and in her left hand, riches ana 
 honor. 
 
 " Her ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths peace. 
 
 " She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her ; and happy is 
 every one that retaineth her." — Chap. iii. 13-18. 
 
 Such, Young Men, is religion, — for wisdom you know is 
 religion, — as here set forth by a striking mixture of metaphor. 
 She is represented as a queen coming forth from her palace 
 and her treasury, with both hands full of blessings, which 
 she is holding out, ready to drop them into the lap of those 
 who will submit to her government, and become her subjects. 
 To represent the influence of religion, even on the interests 
 of earth and time, she holds in one hand health, and in the 
 other riches and honor, which often are the fruits of that 
 godliness which is profitable for all things, having the pro- 
 mise of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to 
 come. But what are her ways ? A lonely rugged path 
 across sandy deserts, or through gloomy passes and frowning 
 precipices, where no verdure springs, no sun-beams play, no 
 birds carol, and where neither streams nor fruits are found ? 
 So the enemies of religion, the men who dwell in the fools' 
 paradise, would represent : but how difi'erent the description 
 in this lovely passage ! This tells of " ways of pleasant7iesSy 
 and paths of peace. "^^ It is indeed a narrow and somewhat 
 toilsome way, but every step is lighted by the bright shining 
 of the Sun of Righteousness ; is strewed with the promises 
 of God ; is a step of happiness ; and a step to heaven. Yes, 
 even what are called the austerities of religion are more joj- 
 9* 
 
200 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 ous than the pleasures of sin. The yoke of Christ is far 
 lighter than that of Satan. 
 
 And then, the tree of life — there, in that wonderful 
 ornament and glory of the garden of Eden, in the branches 
 of which sung the birds of Paradise ; whose roots were 
 watered with the rivers of God ; in whose shade Adam basked, 
 and of whose fruits he ate as the sacramental pledge of im- 
 mortality — there, I say, is the emblem of heavenly wisdom. 
 She is a tree of life, growing up from a branch brought out 
 of Eden, when sin had barred our access to the original 
 stock, and caused it to decay , a tree whose branches bend 
 down upon this world of sin and misery, and whose clusters 
 hang within the reach of even the youngest child. Young 
 Men, what think you of this beautiful description of wisdom's 
 blessings ? It is no fancy picture — no mere creation of 
 human genius — no mere poetic garniture of the page of 
 revelation. How many that hear me now have proved all 
 this to a Divine reality ? 0, come, come, to this tree of 
 life, and take of its twelve manner of fruits, and live. 
 
 I pass by with only one glance at it, the personification of 
 wisdom in the ninth chapter, building her house, preparing 
 her feast, and sending out her invitations to collect her 
 guests. A beautiful representation of the blessings of true 
 religion. 
 
 IV. We will now turn to a few of those grajphic sketches 
 of character with which the book abounds. 
 
 1. Scarcely has it opened, before we find the character of 
 the Tempter described in the following language : " My son, 
 if sinners entice thee, consent thou not: if they say, Come 
 with us, let us lay wait for blood ; let us lurk privily for the 
 innocent without cause ; let us swallow them up alive 
 as the grave, and whole as they that go down to the pit : we 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 201 
 
 sLall find all precious substance, we sball fill our houses 
 with cpoil. Cast in thy lot among us, let us all have one 
 purse." — Chap. i. 10. How true this is to the life, as a 
 description of the conduct of those who tempt others to evil. 
 The earnest invitation, the secresy of the plot, the prospect 
 of advantage, the promise of a share in the booty. How 
 accurate ! It is true that in your situation and circum^ 
 ctances the temptation will not be to deeds of blood and 
 rapine — but there will be much the same urgency of entice- 
 ment, the same promise and prospects of gain, and the same 
 ensnaring representation of companionship. Sinners are 
 ruthless and zealous in the dreadful work of temptation — 
 they want companions to assist them in accomplishing their 
 evil deeds, and sometimes they equally need and earnestly 
 seek associates to maintain their courage. Guilt, till its 
 subject becomes hardened and desperate, is cowa»rdly, and 
 gets rid of its fears by multiplying its companions. If 
 sinners then entice you, do not yield, or even hearken to 
 their solicitations. Consent constitutes the sin. Turn a 
 deaf ear to every entreaty. Let no prospect or promise of 
 gain or pleasure, induce you to listen for a moment to their 
 solicitations. Flee from them as you would from a serpent 
 or a lion. You need not yield. You cannot be forced to 
 sin. Repulse the tempter at once and with a frown. Do 
 not parley with him for a moment. His look is the fascina- 
 tion of the basilisk's eye — his words are snares — his breath is 
 pestilence — his presence is destruction. The moment he 
 asks you to sin — flee — instantly flee. And while I warn you 
 against being ensnared by the tempter's arts, let me with 
 gtill more emphatic importunity, entreat you never to em- 
 ploy them. No character is so like that of Satan, who is 
 called by way of eminence the Tempter, as he who en.tices 
 
202 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 another to sin. This is the most truly diabolical act ever 
 perpetrated in our world. Turn with horror from the 
 thought. If you must and will sin — sin alone — have no 
 partner in your crime. If you will sink to the bottomless 
 pit, drag no others down with you into that fiery gulf. 
 Emulate not the fate of Achan, of whom it is said, " This 
 man perished not alone in his iniquity." What an eternity 
 of torment is that man preparing for himself as well as for 
 others, who is ruining the souls of his fellow-creatures by 
 solicitinor them to sin. How will those victims of his wiles 
 avenge themselves upon him by their execrations in the 
 world of woe. 
 
 Next I direct you to a very striking description of the 
 Tempted. 
 
 I can only allude, delicacy forbids more, to the vivid 
 description of the unwary youth caught in the snares of the 
 abandoned woman, contained in the seventh chapter. This 
 picture is to be looked at with half-averted eye, for warning, 
 but not for gratification. It is painted with a master's hand, 
 and with exquisite fidelity of color. Was ever the harlot's 
 likeness more accurately taken ? The late hours of the 
 evening for her sallying forth in quest of her prey — her 
 position at the corner of the street — her meretricious attire 
 — her tempting speech — her plausible suggestions — her im- 
 pudent face — all show the harlot's brazen forehead. There 
 is no vice against which you have more need to be warned 
 than sensuality. It is that to which your age, your situation, 
 and your temptations expose you. Imitate the conduct of 
 that noble youth whose character we contemplated in our 
 last discourse, and say, when tempted to sin, " How shall 1 
 do this great wickedness and sin agaiiist God ? 
 
 How true is human nature, even in its corruptions, tc 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 203 
 
 itself. The corners of the streets of our modern towns and 
 cities, as others did in Solomon's time, exhibit the same 
 night scenes now. Three thousand years with all their 
 warnings and experience have not banished the " strange 
 woman" from society, nor driven the female tempter from 
 our streets. Everything in the description of this case is 
 impressive and instructive. Trace the sad end as set forth 
 here to its beginning. Was not idleness the parent of tim 
 mischief.? The loitering evening walk — the unseasonable 
 hour — the vacant mind — all bringing the youth into contact 
 with evil company, was not all this courting sin — temptino' 
 the tempter ? How awfully true the representation of the 
 tempter's success, " He goeth after her straightway as an ox 
 goeth to the slaughter," unconscious of his fate ; perhaps 
 dreaming of rich pasture ; or, " as a fool to the correction 
 of the stocks," careless and unfeeling, " till the dart strike 
 through his liver," or " as a bird hasteth to the snare and 
 knoweth not that it is for his life." Young men, set a guard 
 upon your senses. Go not in the way of sin. Enter deeply 
 into our Lord's beautiful petition, " Lead us not into temp- 
 tation." He that would not fall into sin, must not go into 
 the way of temptation. Keep from the harlot's company, 
 and speech, and private haunt, and public walk, as you 
 would from contact with a person infected with the plague. 
 I now direct you to the description o^ the end of the pro- 
 fligate ; who after running his course of dissipation, looks 
 back with remorse and regret, anjidst poverty and disease, 
 upon his polluted and ruinous career : " And thou mourn at 
 last lohen thy flesh and thy body are consuvied^ and say. How 
 have I hated instruction, and my heart despised reproof ; 
 and have not obeyed the voice of my teachers, nor inclined 
 mine ear to them that have instructed me. I was in almost 
 
204 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 all evil iu the midst of the congregation and assembly." 
 Chap. V. 11-14. Here is the fruit of sensuality sot forth in 
 awful terms. Disease preying like worms upon the body, 
 and remorse, like a vulture, gnawing at the heart. Yes, 
 there are sins which set their loathsome brand upon the outer 
 man, while they fill with the poison of their guilt the inner 
 one : sins which pollute the blood — disfigure the countenance 
 — destroy the health — and turn the whole frame into a mass 
 of corruption. How many martyrs of intemperance and 
 licentiousness prove by a bitter experience the truth of the 
 apostle's words, '* He that soweth to the flesh shall of the 
 flesh reap corruption ;" and realise the description of Zophar, 
 "His bones are full of the sins of his youth, which lie down 
 with him in the dust." Oh, to sit down amidst wasted 
 fortunes, with a body half murdered by profligacy, and the 
 voice of conscience telling of slighted opportunities, abused 
 privileges, stifled convictions. Young men, think of this 
 " mourning at last," when it will be too late to mourn, and 
 when the mourning will be the more bitter, the longer it is 
 delayed. Impenitence does not put away sorrow, but only 
 postpones it to a future period, when mercy shall have fled 
 for ever, and nothing remain but a fearful recollection of 
 past sins and a still more fearful foreboding of wrath to come. 
 How will neglected warnings, despised sermons, and slighted 
 oounscls, then rise like spectres from the grave of oblivion, 
 each repeating that dreadful sarcasm, " Son^ remember.''^ 
 
 I hold up now another portraiture, I mean that of the 
 Drunkard. " Who hath woe ? Who hath sorrow ? 
 Who hath contentions ? Who hath babblings } Who hath 
 wounds without cause ? Who hath redness of eyes ? They 
 that tarry long at the wine ; they that go to seek mixed wine. 
 Look not thou upon the wine when it is red, when it giveth it? 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 205 
 
 color in the cup, when it movoth itself aright. At the last 
 it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. Thine 
 eyes shall behold strange women, and thine -heart shall utter 
 perverse things. Yea, thou shalt be as he that lieth down 
 in the midst of the sea, or as he that lieth upon the top of a 
 mast. They have stricken me, shalt thou say, and I was not 
 sick ; they have beaten me, and I felt it not : when shall I 
 awake ? I will seek it yet again." — Chap, xxiii. 29-35. 
 
 This is perhaps the most graphic and vivid description of 
 inebriety ever yet given to the world. The drawing is 
 perfect, and not less so the coloring. It has been often 
 called, and with great truth and justice, '' the drunkard's 
 looking-glass,. in which he may see his own face." It is said 
 that amidst all the splendid furpiture and ornaments of our 
 gin palaces, the mirror is not found : the vendors of poison 
 not being very willing that the miserable victims should see 
 their own suicidal act, in gulping the fatal dram, reflected. 
 In default of a looking-glass, I wish they could be compelled 
 to have this passage painted in large and flaming characters, 
 and hung up in the most conspicuous place of these human 
 slaughter houses. Observe the description of the drunkard. 
 The quarrelsome temper which liquor produces — the fights in 
 which it involves the man who quaffs it, and the wounds he 
 gets in his afi'rays — his babbling discourse on subjects which 
 he does not understand and is then unfitted to discuss, when 
 blasphemy is wit, treason courage, and ribaldry eloquence — 
 his going on, when inflamed by wine, to the gratification of 
 other lusts, and the commission of other sins — his insensibi- 
 lity to injury and danger when his brain is stupified — his re- 
 turning to the indulgence of his vicious appetite when awak- 
 ening up from his drunken slumber — his intense misery and 
 woe produced by his remorse of mind and wretchedness of 
 
206 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 body — these are all set forth in this wonderful passage with 
 a graphic power that nothing can exceed. 
 
 Begin life, Young Men, with an extreme dread of this 
 vice. There is ground for alarm. Drunkenness was never 
 more prevalent than it is now. Myriads and myriads sink 
 every year into the drunkard's grave, and lower still, into the 
 drunkard's hell. One half of the lunacy — two-thirds of the 
 pauperism — and three-fourths of the crime of society, are 
 said to spring from this desolating habit. Beware then of 
 this dreadful appetite and propensity. Be afraid of it. Con- 
 sider yourselves liable to it. x^bandon all self-confidencee. 
 Avoid everything that leads to drinking. Abjure tobacco in 
 every shape — shun bad company — never cross the threshold 
 of the tavern for the purpose of conviviality. Practise total 
 abstinence. All the drunkards that are, or ever have been, 
 were moderate men once. I do most earnestly entreat you 
 to abstain from all intoxicating drinks. You do not need 
 them for health, and to take them for gratification is the 
 germ of inebriety. Total abstinence will conduce to health 
 —to economy — to prosperity. You will one day bless me if 
 this discourse should lead you to adopt this practice. I do 
 not say that this will ensure the practice of every virtue and 
 the enjoyment of all prosperity, but 1 know nothing in the 
 order of preparatory means more likely to be followed with 
 such results. 
 
 And now I ask, what is it that leads to all other sins } 
 Idleness — and I therefore now direct you to the last picture 
 which 1 shall present this evening. " I went by the field of 
 the slothful, and by the vineyard of the man void of under- 
 standing, and, lo, it was all grown over with thorns, and 
 nettles had covered the face thereof, and the stone wall 
 thereof was broken down. Then I saw and considered it 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 207 
 
 well ; I looked upon it and received instruction Yet a little 
 sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep ; 
 so shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy 
 want as an armed man." Chap. xxiv. 30-34 
 
 This, too, is fine painting : the late riser, the lover of 
 deep, the drowsy drone, lifting up his half-opened lids 
 weighed down with sleep — grumbliug at the person who has 
 disturbed him, turning away from him on his bed — and then 
 settling himself down again to slumber. And then the 
 broken fence left without repair — the thorns and nettles 
 covering the field and choking the vineyard. How true to 
 life. Idleness is a complicated vice — yes, I say vice. First 
 it is a most wasteful habit — it wastes time, which is more 
 precious than rubies — it wastes a man's mental faculties, and 
 dooms the noblest machine on earth to stand still — it wastes 
 property, and should compel the sluggard to put down in his 
 expenses a large sum per annum lost by neglect. It is dis- 
 graceful, for how reproachful is it in a being made to be 
 active, to spend life in doing nothing, and to throw away his 
 mental powers in sloth. It is criminal^ for God has com- 
 manded us to be active ; and will call us to account for 
 the sin of killing time. It is dangerous^ doing nothing 
 is next to doing ill, and is sure to lead to it. From its 
 very inaction it ultimately becomes the active cause of all 
 evil ; as a palsy is more to be dreaded than a fever. The 
 Turks have a proverb which says, " The Devil tempts all 
 other men ; but the idle man tempts the Devil.'''' Idleness is 
 the stagnant pool that deposits mud and breeds all kinds of 
 vermin ; but running water is clear, sweet, and wholesome. 
 Idleness is wretchedness. An idle man, as I said in a former 
 discourse, is the most miserable of all God's creatures : and 
 woe be to the man who is doomed to bear the pain and 
 
208 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 penalties of a slothful disposition. Employment is not onlj 
 a source of excellence, but of enjoyment. Young Men, bo 
 industrious. It will be a source at once of pleasure and 
 profit. If you study the Book of Proverbs for nothing else, 
 study it for the purpose of promoting industry. I give it as 
 my decided opinion, that no man who ever made this book 
 the subject of his study and the rule of his life, failed to 
 ensure a competency ; while multitudes who have acted thus 
 have attained to respectability, honor, and wealth. 
 
 Let me now, in conclusion, enumerate a few general 
 points, which are suggested by a consideration of this inte- 
 resting portion of holy Scripture. 
 
 I. We see the benevolence of God^ in not only providing 
 the means for our glory, honor, immortality, and eternal life 
 in heaven, through the mediation of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
 but in giving us in this valuable book, the most minute 
 directions for all the details of our earthly abode. He not 
 only wills our salvation hereafter, but our convenience and 
 comfort here. He acts like a good and rich father, who, 
 while he makes his son heir of all his estate, consults in the 
 minutest particulars all his well-being and enjoyment through 
 the period of his boyhood and education. How exquisitely 
 beautiful is it to see God thus managing our mean affairs — 
 intent even upon our success in trade — promoting our plea- 
 sant intercourse with our neighbors — providing rules for our 
 conduct every where — and supplying us with the means to 
 secure a thousand little enjoyments, and to protect ourselves 
 from a thousand little annoyances on our road to our 
 Father's house in heaven. To me the Book of Proverbs 
 proves the minuteness and delicacy of God's goodness, while 
 the Gospels and Epistles of the New Testament, exhibit its 
 grandeur and sublimity. 
 
THE BOOK OF TUOVEUBS. 20S 
 
 II. Arising out of this, I would observe, what an inesti- 
 mable voluvie and priceless treasure is the Bihle, which thus 
 'proclaims to us the goodness of God^ and carries out His 
 gracious purpose towards us. I want, young men, to endear 
 to your hearts this book of books, and therefore will embrace 
 every opportunity presented by these lectures, to commend 
 it to your attention and regard. I want to fortify you 
 agaiust the seductions of infidelity and false philosophy. I 
 want to show you the injustice to yourselves, as well as the 
 wickedness towards God, and the hypocrisy, as well as the 
 cruelty, of those who under the pretext of liberating your 
 mind from thraldom, and exalting you to the dignity of men 
 of reason, would deliver you from what they call the domi- 
 nion of superstition and the trammels of the Bible. It is 
 their delight to represent the Bible as teaching only a system 
 of priestcraft ; as prescribing only a round of religious 
 ceremonies ; and forming a character fit only to dwell in a 
 monastery, or to worship in a church. Ask them if they 
 have ever deigned to read the Book of Proverbs. If not, 
 they are unfit to pronounce an opinion upon the Bible — and 
 if they have, tell them that by such u.isrepresentations they 
 lie against their own knowledge — for here is a part of the 
 Bible which, they must know, follows us into the social 
 haunts of men — to the family — to the shop — to the market 
 and exchange, to dictate truth, kindness, and meekness, to 
 our words ; justice, honesty, and honor, to our transactions ; 
 which regulates all sales and purchases upon the principles 
 of equity : gives validity and force to all contracts ; prohibits 
 all wrong, and sustains all right. A single perusal of this 
 book would convince them that if it were universally possess- 
 ed, believed, and practised — human laws would be almost 
 unnecessary, courts of justice would be forsaken, and jails 
 
210 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 untenanted. Take up this volume with the simple question, 
 " What kind of man shall I be if I follow the rules herein 
 contained." Hold fast your Bibles then, till infidelity can find 
 you a better rule of conduct for this life — a brighter levela- 
 tion, and a surer hope for another. Ask it what it has to 
 ofier you in exchange for doctrines so sublime — morality so 
 pure, precepts so wise — promises so precious — prospects so 
 grand. And what has it to oficr } A dreary, blank, and 
 hideous negative — no Grod — no Redeemer — no salvation — no 
 heaven — no, nor anything even in this world to save you 
 from the dominion of vice, or to guide you to the practice 
 and enjoyment of virtue — this is all that infidelity has to give 
 you as a substitute for the Bible. Say to it with surprise, in- 
 dignation, and abhorrence — " Avaunt, lying spirit. Curse not 
 me with your discoveries of nothing. Is this all you have to 
 give me in exchange for that volume which is profitable for 
 all things, having the promise of the life that now is, as well 
 as of that which is to come .? You have nothing by which I 
 may steer my course across the stormy ocean of this life : and 
 nothing at the end of the voyage but the black rocks of an- 
 nihilation on which I must dash, and be for ever lost. Be 
 gone with thy creed of wretched negations, to him who is 
 fool enough to be cajoled out of his Bible by thy miserable 
 sophistries." Sometimes the mind is more impressed with 
 the atrocity of an intended felony, by examining the articles 
 one by one, which it would purloin, than by looking at the 
 whole in mass. So it is judging of infidelity — take up book 
 by book of Scripture — examine each separately, and say, 
 '• The felon infidel would rob me of this, and this, and 
 this." Yes, Young Men, he would cheat you, among the 
 rest, out of this Book of Proverbs. He would tell you that 
 this is imposition, and no revelation from Grod at all. Or if 
 
THE BOOK OF PROVERBS. 211 
 
 he consented to leave this in your hands, he would, by taking 
 away its divine authority, deprive it of all power to bind 
 your conscience as law, and merely submit it for your adop- 
 tion as advice, which you are still at liberty to reject if you 
 do not like it. 
 
 III. This book shows us the connexion between true reli- 
 gion and general excellence of character. This was noticed 
 in the last sermon, when we contemplated the character of 
 Joseph, and is now repeated in this general analysis of the 
 Book of Proverbs. It lays the foundation, broad, deep and 
 strong, in that wisdom which is the fear of God. It antici- 
 pates the apostolic injunction — " Add to your faith^ virtue." 
 The foundation of the temple of virtue is religion — its 
 golden ornament upon the dome is all that is gentle in 
 spirit and graceful in demeanor. From hence is to be 
 derived that completeness of character which this book is 
 intended and calculated to form. It begins with the heart ; 
 and forms a holy mechanism there, which guides the hands 
 of the clock in regular movements round the dial-plate of 
 life. It implants right principles of action. It communi- 
 cates a hidden life — it sanctifies the inner man, and thus 
 fashions the outer man — and does not merely paint a picture, 
 or carve a bust. Here man in all his relations and all his 
 interests is consulted — as a creature of God — as a citizen of 
 the state — as a member of society — as an inmate of the 
 dwelling — as a creditor or a debtor — as a buyer or a seller 
 — in each and all these, he is contemplated, directed, and 
 encouraged. It has been beautifully observed, that " we 
 want religion to be to the character, what the soul is to the 
 body — the animating principle. The soul operates in every 
 member. It sees in the eye — hears in the ear — speaks in 
 the tongue — animates the whole body, with ease and uuifor- 
 
212 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 raity, without ostentation or effort." Thus let the good con- 
 duct of the citizen, the son, the husband, the father, the 
 brother, the tradesman, be only so many operations of truo 
 piety, so many acts of this animating soul — so many devel- 
 opments of this hidden life. 
 
 lY. Though there is much in this book which, properly 
 understood and followed, would, in connexion with other parts 
 of Scripture, guide the reader to heaven and prepare him for 
 its enjoyment, it must be confessed and remembered, that it 
 principally aims to form the social character for the present 
 world. What we have already said on this subject we repeat, 
 that for a clear and explicit knowledge of the way of pardon 
 and eternal life, we must read the New Testament. There 
 we learn how Christ is made of God unto us " Wisdom, and 
 righteousness, and sanctification and redemption. " And even 
 there also we learn the great moral principles on which all 
 the transactions of this world's business should be founded : 
 but it is in this extraordinary book that all the details of 
 social life are given with a minuteness that is really extraor- 
 dinary. It is the tradesman's vade mecum. It might lie on 
 his desk by the side of his ledger, and even that in a thousand 
 instances would have been in a better state, had this been 
 more constantly consulted. It is my firm belief that no man 
 who reads this book through with close attention and earnest 
 prayer, once a year, will fail, either in this world, or in refer- 
 ence to that which is to come. It is designed and adapted 
 to form the industrious, prudent, honorable, and successful 
 tradesman, and is therefore eminently suited to this great 
 commercial country. Napoleon Bonaparte, when in the 
 zenith of his power and pride, called this country, more in a 
 spirit of mortification and envy than of contempt, a nation of 
 shopkeepers. If by that term he comprehended our mer* 
 
THE IJOOK OF PROVERBS. ii]3 
 
 cliants and manufacturers, he did not inaptly describo us 
 AVo are not ashamed of our commercial character and great 
 ness : and provided our merchandise be carried on upon the 
 principles of this book, and we thus inscribe upon itj 
 Holiness to the Lord^ it is our glory and defence. 
 
 V. In this book is disclosed the secret of true happiiiesSy 
 aud which indeed if possessed will make happy individuals, 
 happy families, happy neighborhoods, happy nations, and 
 a happy world. All the errors which men have fallen into on 
 this subject ; all the delusive shadows, the polluted springs, the 
 deleterious ingredients, which have misled so many, are here 
 detected and exposed ; while the nature, the source, and the 
 means of true felicity, arc as clearly pointed out. Here, in 
 the favor of God ; in the mortification of our corruptions ; 
 in tne restraint of our passions ; in the cultivation of our 
 graces ; m the performance of our duties ; in promoting the 
 good of our neighbors, and in the hope of immortality — are 
 the materials of human blessedness. Here, happiness is set 
 ferth, not in the heathen forms of Bacchus, Yenus, or Momus ; 
 not by such descriptions as those of Horace, Ovid, and Ana- 
 creon ; not by such rout and revelry as the lovers of pleasure 
 in every age would recommend. Quite the contrary. In 
 this book, happiness is seen descending from heaven, her 
 native place, and lighting upon our orb in the seraph form 
 of religion. She is clad in the robe of righteousness, arrayed 
 in the garment of salvation, and adorned with ine ornament 
 of a meek and quiet spirit. Like the king's daughter of old, 
 she " is all glorious within, her clothing is of wrought gold.'' 
 Joy sparkles in her eye, and peace reposes upon her brow. 
 Her conscience is easy by pardon, and her heart is lio-ht 
 through purity. The song of the seraphim is upon her lips. 
 Her hand is alternately lifted up in adoration to God, and 
 
214 THE rouNG man's friend. 
 
 stretched out in mercy to "his necessitous creatures. Her 
 foot cvor carry her with joyful steps, either to . the house of 
 prayer, or the abodes of sorrow. Her excellencies are de- 
 scribed and her praises are sung, not in the odes of licentious 
 poets, at sensual orgies, in strains inspired by lust and wine ; 
 but in the hymns composed by prophets and apostles, resound- 
 ing in the temples of devotion, or chanted by good and holy 
 men in the circles of their friends, or the homes of their 
 families. Such is the happiness set forth in this book — the 
 only thing which deserves the name ; the only thing that can 
 prove itself worthy of the name. That seraph form lights, 
 Young Men, in your path, and with her own angelic, divine, 
 and heavenly smile, beckons you to follow her to the well- 
 spring of delight, repeating at every step, the beautiful lan- 
 guage of this book, " Happy is the man that findeth 
 
THE YOUNG MAN SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN 
 BUSINESS. 
 
 " He becometh poor that dealeth with a sJack Land ; but the hand ci 
 the diligent maketh rich." — Proverbs x. 4, 
 
 *' In the day of prosperity be joyful, but in the day of adversity con 
 sider." — Ecclesiastes vii. 14. 
 
 Think not, Young Men, that in selecting two subjects 
 consecutively, and one before, from the books of Proverbs and 
 Ecclesiastes, I am drawing your attention away from the 
 New Testament to the Old, and investing the latter with an 
 importance superior to that of the former. By no means. 
 Both these portions of the sacred volume belong to the one 
 divine system of revealed truth, and they stand related to 
 each other as the two great lights of the moral world, the 
 sun to rule the day and the moon to rule the night. The 
 Old Testament, with lunar effulgence borrowed from the 
 yet invisible orb of spiritual day, shone forth upon the 
 Jewish Church during the night season of its existence ; 
 while the New, with its own brightness, constitutes the day of 
 our Christian dispensation. !3ut though the Sun of Righte- 
 ousness has risen, the moon is still a valuable member of our 
 spiritual solar system. Let us then hold fast both parts of the 
 10 
 
216 THE YOUNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 Bible, not neglecting the books of Moses, David, Solomon, 
 and the prophets, but delighting most to study the gospels 
 and epistles because of their clearer revelation of every 
 thing that stands connected with the moral character of God 
 — the person and work of Christ — the way of salvation — and 
 the glories of immortality. 
 
 The book of Ecclesiastes, when properly understood, is an 
 important portion of sacred Scripture. It is on good grounds 
 ascribed to Solomon, and is supposed, as we stated in the 
 last discourse, to have been composed after his recovery 
 from his deplorable apostacy, and was intended by him 
 to be a record of his own experience, and a warning, 
 or at any rate an instruction, to mankind. Its chief design 
 seems to be to answer that momentous inquiry, prompted 
 at once by the misery and the ignorance of fallen humanity, 
 " Who will show us any good." Man is made for 
 happiness, and is capable of it ; but what is it, and how 
 is it to be obtained ? To possess and enjoy it, he must 
 be furnished with some good, which is suited to his nature, 
 adapted to his condition, and adequate to his capacity and 
 desires. 
 
 The nature of the chief good has been, in every age, the 
 most earnest and interesting subject of philosophic inquiry. 
 But how various and opposed have been the conclusions to 
 which, on this important subject, the inquirers have arrived. 
 Varro, a very learned Latin writer, who died about thirty 
 years before Christ, reckoned up more than two hundred dif- 
 ferent opinions on this subject ; thus plainly evincing the igno- 
 rance of man of his own nature, circumstances, and wants. 
 Not perceiving what it is that has made him miserable, he can- 
 not know of course what will make him happy. Unacquainted 
 with or rather overlooking the disease, he cannot know 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 21*7 
 
 the remedy. He feels an aching void within, an unsatisfied 
 craving after something, but knows neither the nature nor 
 the source of the food which is to meet and satisfy his hungry 
 appetite. What human reason is thus proved to be too 
 ignorant and too weak to decide, the Bible undertakes to 
 settle : that which no human authority could adjudicate 
 upon, the oracle of God, explicitly, imperatively, and infal- 
 libly determines for ever and for all. Precious Bible, if 
 only for this ! The vagrant spirit of man is seen wandering 
 from God the fountain of bliss, roaming through " this dry 
 and thirsty land, where no water is ;" anxiously looking for 
 happiness, but never finding it ; coming often to springs that 
 are dry, and to cisterns that are broken, till weary of the pur- 
 suit and disappointed in its hopes, it is ready to give up all 
 in despair, and reconcile itself to misery, under the notion 
 that happiness is but a name. In this sad and hopeless 
 mood, the victim of grief and despondency is met by the 
 Bible, which takes him by the hand, and leads him to the 
 fountain of living waters. Such is the design of this extra- 
 ordinary book — to show first of all what will not make man 
 happy, and then what will. Upon all the most coveted pos- 
 sessions of this world, it pronounces the solemn and impres- 
 sive sentence, " Vanity of vanities — all is vanity.''^ It 
 interrogates singly every coveted object of human desires, and 
 asks, *' What are you .?" only to receive the melancholy 
 answer, '* Vanity.''^ Or if, deceptively, they return another 
 answer, it turns to the man who has possessed and proved 
 them all, and who contradicts their testimony, and mourn- 
 fully cries, '' They are vanity y 
 
 In the beginning of the book, Solomon gives this out as 
 the first part of his subject, and then twenty times repeats it, 
 and oftener still alludes to it in the course of his details ; and 
 
218 
 
 when he had finished his proofs and illustrations, he formall;^ 
 re-announces it in his peroration. He does not by this 
 sentence intend to pass any censure on the works of nature^ 
 the dispensations of Providence, or the arrangements of 
 man's social existence. As God originally made them, all 
 things are good in their nature, relations, and designs ; but 
 man's sinfulness corrupts all to himself — he makes those 
 things to be ends which were only intended to be means — 
 rests in what is subordinate instead of going on to that which 
 is supreme — and abuses that which is granted him only to 
 use. Now Solomon shows in this book, that nothing on 
 earth can satisfy, as the supreme good, the soul of man. 
 Three thousand years nearly have passed away since then. 
 Science has multiplied its discoveries, art its inventions, 
 and literature its productions — civilization has opened new 
 sources of luxury, and ingenuity has added innumerable 
 gratifications of appetite and of taste, unknown even to 
 Solomon — every domain of nature has been explored, and 
 every conceivable experiment been made, to extort from her 
 new means of enjoyment, and new secrets of happiness — but 
 still the heart of man confirms the testimony of the king of 
 Israel, and the experience of the human race prolongs the 
 echo of his words, " Vanity of vanities — all is vanity." 
 
 This, however, is only the negative view of the subject — 
 if all these are vanity and not good — what is good — and is 
 there anything which really deserves the name .'' There is 
 — and it is the design of this portion of Scripture to reveal 
 and declare it. What is it ? What — that is to settle the 
 question, and reveal to the children of men the nature and 
 the source of happiness 1 What — that is to terminate the 
 weary pursuits, to revive the languid hopes, and to gratify 
 the anxious desires of the destitute and sorrowing children 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 219 
 
 of men, hungering and thirsting after bliss ? What ? 
 Wisdom. That wisdom of which we spoke in the last 
 sermon, as constituting the subject of the Book of Proverbs ; 
 between which portion of Scriptures and this book of Eccle- 
 siastes there is so close a resemblance of design and con- 
 struction. But what is wisdom ? He himself declares in 
 the last chapter, where he sums up the whole of what he 
 had said, " Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter : 
 Fear God and keep his commandments: for this 
 IS THE whole duty OF MAN." The fii'st six chapters of 
 the book are devoted to the negative view of happiness, and 
 are intended as illustrations of the declaration, '^ All is 
 vanity ;" the remainder to an illustration of the nature, 
 excellence, and beneficial effects of true wisdom or religion. 
 This, then, after all the enquiries of philosophers, is the 
 chief good — true religion. This suits the nature — meets 
 the wants — alleviates the sorrows — satisfies the desires, of 
 the human soul, and is its portion for ever. This finds him 
 depraved and makes him holy — finds him little and makes 
 him great — finds him earthly and raises him to heaven. This 
 leads the human spirit, through the mediation of Christ, 
 into the presence of the infinite, eternal, omnipotent, and 
 all-sufficient Author of its existence, and by the teaching 
 and aid of the Holy Spirit, impels and helps him to say, 
 " Thou art my 'portion^ O my God. Thy favor is life., a7id 
 thy loving -kindness is better than life. Thou art the centre — 
 the rest — the home of my heart. "^"^ 
 
 Perhaps we shall better understand this book ^' if we 
 suppose that the author at every step is meeting the argu- 
 ments of an objector, who contends that appearances are 
 Buch in the present world as to exclude the idea of a super- 
 intending Providence — to confound together, without dis- 
 
220 THE YOUNG MANS FRIEIsD. 
 
 crimination as to their fate or fortunes, their merit or desert 
 the wise and the foolish, goodness and sin — thus destroying 
 all rational hope for the future, and leaving nothing better to 
 man than that he should eat and drink, and enjoy himself 
 here as well as he can. The author meets, examines, and 
 answers these objections, by exposing the unsatisfactoriness of 
 mere pleasure, and insists on the regality and supremacy of 
 Duty.^'' This view of the design and the construction of 
 the book will remove that appearance of an atheistic spirit 
 which seems in the view of objectors, to characterise some 
 passages. 
 
 Having considered the design of the book from which the 
 text is selected, and thrown, I hope, some light upon what 
 appears a little enigmatical, I will proceed to take up the 
 subject of this discourse, and consider the young man 
 
 SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 
 
 I will suppose the case of two young men setting out in 
 life with equal advantages as to capital, connections, and 
 prospects. They have gone through their term of appren- 
 ticeship, and the intermediate stage of the shopman or the 
 clerk, and have commenced business for themselves. One 
 of them succeeds — a propitious gale seems to fill his sails, 
 and a favorable tide to flow in, to help him onward in his 
 course from the very time of sailing. He makes a pros- 
 perous voyage and enters safely into harbor with a rich cargo. 
 His business flourishes — his capital increases — he rises to 
 competency, to respectability, perhaps to wealth. His 
 influence and his rank in society keep pace of course with 
 the accumulation of his opulence. Such cases often occur 
 in this trading and commercial country. It is only a few 
 days since I was visiting at the house of a friend in a town 
 not very remote, who has recently taken a large house and 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 221 
 
 beautiful grounds, wlio came to the town with only a fe\f 
 shillings in his pocket. While in this humble situation, one 
 day passing the premises he now occupies, when the gates 
 being opened, he felt the kindlings of desire and ambition 
 in his soul, and said to himself, "I will one day possess such 
 a place as tha.t if I can. He was an industrious young man, 
 got on in life ; became a true Christian — a prosperous trades- 
 man — and now is dwelling in elegance in the house and 
 enjoying the grounds which excited his desires ; and what is 
 still better, is giving God the glory of all, and sanctifying 
 his prosperity by Christian liberality. He is also the deacon 
 of a Christian church. I might mention another pious 
 individual — of large fortune — who is now a Member of Par- 
 liament, and was once a boy in a Sunday school. 
 
 There is, however, a dark reverse to all this, which some- 
 times occurs, I mean an early failure. In this case the 
 vessel has no sooner left port than it encounters unfavorable 
 winds, is tossed upon the billows by tempests, and dashed 
 upon the rocks, or stranded upon the shore, becomes a 
 wreck. The business commenced with hope terminates in 
 disappointment, and the young tradesman is soon converted 
 into the young bankrupt. This, in such a country as ours, 
 is no uncommon case. May it, young men, never be yours. 
 
 It may now be of importance to inquire into the causes, 
 if any can be found, for this difference of result. 
 
 We put aside the idea of chanct. There is no such thing 
 in our world — none in nature — none in human affairs. We 
 must not explain the matter by saying, " It was just as it 
 happened. One was a lucky man, and the other an unlucky 
 one." Luck, if it mean nothing more than an event 
 of which the cause is not apparent, is a term that may be 
 employed without error ; but if it means, as it generally does, 
 
222 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 an event which has no cause at all, a mere chance, it is a bad 
 word, a heathen term. Drop it from your vocabulary. 
 Trust nothing to luck, nor expect anything from it. Avoid 
 all practical use or dependence upon this or its kindred 
 words, fate — chance — fortune. 
 
 True it is, that success or failure in business, as in other 
 things, depends often upon a concurrence of circumstances, 
 which no human prescience could foresee, nor any human 
 sagacity arrange : but this is not chance, or luck, or fate, or 
 fortune, — but Providence. There is much of Providence in 
 every man's history, and more of a favoring Providence in 
 some men's history than in others. " The lot is cast into 
 the lap, (or urn, the usual way of drawing lots,) but the dis- 
 posal thereof is of the Lord. Providence no doubt gives 
 advantages to some which it does not bestow upon others. 
 Scripture is full of instances of this kind. How conspicuous 
 was Providence in the history of Joseph ! How manifest in 
 the life of Moses ! How remarkable in the advancement of 
 David and Mordecai ! In ordinary life we see the same kind 
 and unexpected interpositions on behalf of some favored indi- 
 viduals. Throughout the whole range of Scripture, pros- 
 perity is spoken of as the gift of God — as matter of prayer 
 where it is desired, and of grateful acknowledgment where it 
 is possessed. " The rich and the poor meet together, but 
 the Lord is the maker of them all j" not merely as men, 
 but as rich and poor. Therefore believe in Providence. 
 '* In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy 
 paths." " It is the blessing of the Lord that maketh rich." 
 Look up for that blessing by constant, earnest, believing 
 prayer. Enter upon life devoutly believing in Grod, as the 
 God of Providence. Do nothing upon which you cannot ask 
 his blessing, and then seek his blessing upon everything you 
 
SUCCEEtJiNG OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 223 
 
 'do. Never forget your dependence upon liim. He can 
 exalt you to prosperity or sink you into the lowest depth of 
 adversity. He can make everything prosper to which you 
 set your hand, or everything to fail. Devoutly acknowledge 
 this. Abjure the infidelity that shuts God out of his own 
 world. 
 
 There is a passage, however, which, as it seems to favor 
 an opposite view to this, I will explain. " I returned, and 
 saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the 
 battle to the strong ; neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet 
 riches to men of understanding, nor yet favor to men of 
 skill ; but time and chance happeneth to them all." Chap. 
 ix. 11. The obvious meaning of this verse is, that while 
 there are some so timid and desponding as to expect nothing 
 from their exertions, there are others so sanguine, bold, and 
 self-confident, as to feel almost sure to succeed in every 
 thing : and while the preceding verse is intended to stimu- 
 late the energies of the former, by showing the benefit of 
 exertion, this verse is designed to check the proud confidence 
 of the latter by reminding them that the success of human 
 efforts is not always in proportion to tlieir ability. " Time 
 and chance happen to all." There are times propitious 
 and unpropitious in the history of all, for the accomplish- 
 ment of our purposes, over which we can have no command 
 or control : and an endless variety of ciicumstances, which 
 as they could not be foreseen and cannot be controlled, may 
 appear like chance, and which may frustrate the wisest 
 plans, and render nugatory the most industrious exertions. 
 All is Providence in determining results- So that from this 
 w^'U-kuown and frequently quoted passage, we are not to con- 
 clude there is no adaptation of means to ends- -no tendency 
 in proper qualities and actions to the desired events — tha^ 
 10* 
 
224 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 there is in fact no superior probability of success to the swift 
 more than to the slow — to the strong more than to the weak 
 — to the intelligent more than to the ignorant — to the skilful 
 more than to the foolish. Far from it. For if this were the 
 case, forethought, intelligence, industry, were all useless, a 
 large portion of Scripture would be contradicted by itself, 
 and the passage be proved false by a reference to the examples 
 which are constantly occurring before us. The meaning evi- 
 dently is, that though these qualities teiid to success, they 
 cannot actually ensure it. Such a passage is not intended to 
 discourage industry, but only to check a spirit of proud self- 
 reliance : not to repress the energies and the chastened con- 
 fidence of the rational man, but to call into exercise the 
 caution and the piety of the dependent one. 
 
 It is ever to be remembered that Providence works by 
 means, and the means employed are those which possess an 
 adaptation to produce the end contemplated. And since 
 God has appointed means to be employed, we do as much 
 homage to him in using these, as we do in depending upon 
 him for their success — in the one we honor his wisdom, and 
 in the other his power. Hence therefore, we must in ordi- 
 nary cases look for the means of success^ and the causes nf 
 failure^ in men'^s own conduct. This is true both in spiritual 
 and temporal things ; and is as true in one as the other, for 
 the God of nature and providence is the God of grace, and 
 there is an analogy between the method of his procedure in 
 all these departments of action. In each, second causes are 
 employed ; and in each, the means are adapted to the end. 
 Let us then examine into the causes of the two different 
 results of success and failure. 
 
 1. The possession or want of ability j cleverness, and 
 good judgment, or what is called tact, in trade^ will ofteq 
 
SUCCEEDINU OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 225 
 
 account for success or failure. Success in any department 
 of human action without a competent knowledge of the 
 means of obtaining it, cannot be expected, and ordinarily 
 never is obtained. It is true an unusual concurrence of 
 what are called fortunate circumstances may in some cases 
 contribute to results not otherwise to be looked for ; but 
 these are the exceptions, not the rule. Unhappily, some 
 young persons are acq;uainted with these, and receive from 
 them an unfavorable influence, and trust to what they 
 call luck rather than ability. It is in the order of nature 
 for intelligence combined with industry to succeed, and we 
 should not let an occasional instance now and then of pros- 
 perous ignorance shake our conviction of the necessity of 
 skill. Though in these cases the element of knowledge was 
 in small proportion, the other elements in some measure 
 compensated for the deficiency by their abundance : a com- 
 bination not to be expected in your cas-e. A man must at all 
 times, especially in this age of competition, thoroughly know 
 not only his own trade, but the principles of trade in general 
 Business is an art and a science too, and to succeed he 
 must be acquainted with both. He must know how to 
 buy and how to sell. He must be a judge of articles and 
 prices. He must know the markets and the times. In order 
 to this, young men, you must be thoughtful, observant, and 
 diligent, as an apprentice and shopman. You must be no 
 lovers of pleasure, nor companions of those that are. Next 
 to relio-ion, it should be your aim to gain a complete mastery 
 of your trade. Who are the men that usually succeed ! 
 Not the dolts, the ill-informed, or the half-informed — but 
 the well-informed. Who are the men that fail ? Usually 
 you will find them, not the well-informed, but the half- 
 informed or the ill-iuformed. Even rzligion itself, however 
 
226 THE YOUNG MAN*S FRIEND. 
 
 eminent, cannot stand you in the stead of a knowledge and 
 the habits of a good tradesman. Godliness, it is true, is 
 profitable for all things, having the promise of the life that 
 now is and of that which is to come. But then it is not 
 godliness without other things, but with them. A good and 
 holy young man is not to expect to succeed by the favor of 
 God, without either industry or ability. God's blessing is 
 not to be looked for as a substitute for these. He does not 
 bless pious dolts, where this want of ability is the result of 
 neglect. God will not set aside the general laws by which 
 he governs the social world in favor of religion, any more 
 than he will those of the natural world. Even a seraph, 
 were he incarnate upon earth, would, if he had no acquaint- 
 ance with earthly affairs, make a bad farmer or a bad manu- 
 facturer. Nor will the countenance and support of friends 
 lead to success, without the tradesman's own skill. Who 
 can help an incompetent man ^ What foreign aid can be a 
 substitute for personal ability ? There are some cripples too 
 feeble to walk, even by the help of others. So there are 
 some persons too ignorant to be helped ever to succeed. 
 Capital will not do without knowledge. The largest amount 
 of this will be soon dissipated, where there is no skill to 
 direct its employment. Beware of overstocking, and trading 
 beyond your capital. A friend lately told me he knew 
 several young tradesmen ruined by allowing travellers to 
 force upon them too large purchases. 
 
 2. Success and failure depend a great deal upon a favor - 
 able commencement — a good starting. This is true, as a 
 general principle, in application to all things. Bad begin- 
 nings 7nay be repaired, but are not usually, A first wrong 
 step is often if not always the beginning of a scries of steps :iil 
 wrong Great care, caution, circumspection, and forethought 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IX BUSIXiiSS. 227 
 
 therefore, are necessary here. Many begin too soon, befora 
 they have sufficient capital or competent knowledge. They 
 are impatient to be masters, before they are prepared for it 
 They are unwilling to " bide their time," and they also 
 miscalculate their ability. They are better fitted to obey 
 than to rule. It is not every good servant that will make 
 an able master, though unquestionably the best preparation 
 for the latter, is the former. He that begins with little 
 capital and less experience, commences with fearful disad- 
 vantages, and failure has often been the result. Our mo.-t 
 successful tradesmen have been cautious, as well as able, men. 
 They have begun, perhaps, with limited capital, but they did 
 not over-trade with it. They were willing to creep before 
 they walked ; to walk before they ran ; and to run before 
 they fled. There is an old Latin proverb, which being inter- 
 preted is, " IVe hasten by being slow.'''' Beginning well is a 
 great thing, next to ending well ; and the one leads on to the 
 other. Let there be much reflection — much counsel — much 
 prayer then, in such an important step as commencing busi- 
 ness for yourself. As this, like marriage, is a step for life, let 
 it be taken with care, and think no time lost, or too long, 
 which is necessary, to enable you to tread firmly and steadily 
 at the outset. For one that repented of beginning too late, 
 ten have repented they began too soon. Next to seeking 
 counsel from God, by earnest and believing prayer, seek the 
 advice of disinterested, wise, and experienced men. A young 
 man came to me some years ago, to get an introduction to any 
 friend whom I might know in the neighborhood in which he 
 wished to engage in business, and who would be willing to 
 give him counsel on the probable success of a concern, which 
 he had some thoughts of taking. I gave him a letter to one 
 of the most capable men in the country, who very kindly 
 
'328 rilE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 received him, and very wisely and earnestly advised him to 
 abandon the project. But he had set his heart upon it, and 
 in opposition to the counsel which had been given him, 
 entered upon the concern, from which he was very soon glad 
 to escape without being utterly ruined. Do not first make 
 up your mind, and then ask advice afterwards. Reverse this 
 order, and go to the oracle first, and defer to its responses. 
 
 3. Success and failure are dependent upon diligence on 
 the one hand, or neglect and indolence on the other. For 
 proofs of this, I refer you to that invaluable book which was 
 the subject of my last discourse, and to your own reason and 
 observation. We have already quoted one passage from 
 the Proverbs, which says, " The blessing of the Lord maketh 
 rich.''^ We now add to it another, " The hand of Ifie 
 diligent mahelh rich?'' Both are true, and they stand related 
 to each other, as the instrumental and the efiicient cause. 
 Man's industry cannot be successful, without Gud's blessing, 
 and God's blessing is not bestowed, without man's industry. 
 The Lord's providential visits are never granted to loiterers. 
 Moses, David, and the shepherds at Bethlehem, were all 
 keeping their flocks, and Gideon was at his threshing-floor, 
 when God's revelations were made to them. How is sloth- 
 fulness exposed, condemned, branded, in God's book. Let 
 a man have ever so good a knowledge of his business — let 
 him begin with all the advantage of capital, connexions, and 
 situation — yet if he be of an indolent or self-indulgent habit 
 — a late riser — a lover of pleasure — a gossiping neighbor — • 
 a zealous political partizan, more busy in improving the state, 
 than in minding his own concerns : — he will soon furnish 
 another evidence of the truth of SDlomou's words, " He he- 
 comelh yoor that dealeth with a slack hand.^"* Weigh well, 
 then, young men, the import cf that momentous word, Dil- 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILURE IN BUSINESS. 22t 
 
 IGENCE. You remember the anecdote of Demosthenes, 
 who, on.beinfi; asked the first grace of elocution, replied, 
 " Action." The second ? " Action." The third ? " Ac- 
 tion." So if asked, Whatis the first qualification of a suc- 
 cessful tradesman t I answer, " Diligence." The second } 
 "Diligence." The third .^ "Diligence." Write it upon 
 your hearts. Keep it ever before your eyes. Let it be ever 
 sounding in your ears. Let it be said of you, as was affirm- 
 ed of that admirable and holy missionary, Henry Martin, 
 ivhen he was at college, " That he was known as the man 
 who never lost an huur.'^'' 
 
 4. Method and system have much to do with failure or 
 success. In this I include 'promjptness as opposed to pro- 
 crastination. No habit can be more fatal to success than 
 that wretched disposition of postponing till another time 
 that which ought to be done, and can be done, at once. 
 Procrastination has ruined millions for both worlds. There 
 is a class of adverbs which some men appear never to have 
 studied, but which are of immense importance in all the 
 affairs both of time iind eternity. 1 mean the words, " in- 
 stantly ;" " immediately ;" " at once ;" " now ;" and for 
 which they have unhappily substituted, " presently ;" " by 
 and bye ;" " to-morrow ;" " at some future time." Young 
 men, catch the inspiration of that weighty monosyllable — 
 " now." Yield to the potency of that word — " instantly." 
 But to use a still more business-like term, acquire a habit of 
 " despatch.''^ And in order to do this, do not only something 
 immediately, but do immediately the thing that ought to be 
 done next. I^unclualiiy is of immense conseciucjice. It 
 has been rather ludicrously said, " iSome people seem to have 
 been born half an hour after their time, and tluiy never fetch 
 it up all their lives." In the present busy age, when busi- 
 
THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 230 
 
 ness is so extended and complicated, and when of course 
 one man is so dependent upon another, and oftentimes many 
 upon one, a want of punctuality is not only a fault, but a 
 vice, and a vice which inflicts an injury, not only upon the 
 transgressor himself, but upon others who have been waiting 
 for him. " You have caused us to lose an hour," said a 
 gentleman to another, for whose appearance twelve persons 
 had been waiting. " Oh, that is impossible," replied the 
 laggard, " for it is only five minutes after the time." " Very 
 true," was the rejoinder, " but here are twelve of us, each 
 of whom has lost five minutes." He who keeps servants, 
 customers, or creditors waiting, through his want of punc- 
 tuality, can never prosper This is as irreligious as it is in- 
 jurious, inasmuch as the apostle has commanded us to " Re- 
 deem the time." Order is no less essential to system and 
 success than promptness and punctuality. Order, it is said, 
 is heaven's first law, an aphorism as true of earth as it is of 
 heaven, and as applicable to the movements of trade, as of 
 the stars. A place and a time for everything, and every- 
 thing in its place and time, is the rule of every successful 
 tradesman. A disorderly and irregular man maybe diligent, 
 that is may be ever in a bustle, a very different thing from 
 a well-regulated activity, but his want of order defeats every- 
 thing. The machinery of his habits may have velocity and 
 power, but its movements are irregular and eccentric, and 
 therefore unproductive, or productive only of uncertain, 
 incomplete, and sometimes mischievous, results, A disorder- 
 ly man wastes not only his own time, but that of others who 
 are dependent upon, and waiting for him — nor does the 
 waste stop here, for what a useless expenditure of energy 
 and a painful reduction of comfort, are ever going on. 
 5. Economy has a most powerful influence in determining 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS?. 231 
 
 the failure or success of a young tradesman. This applies 
 to per^nalj trade, and domestic expenses, and the man who 
 would succeed in life must reduce them all to the lowest 
 prudent level. In order to keep down the expenses of trade^ 
 he must do with as little purchased help as he can, and to 
 accomplish this, he must be a hard worker himself, till he 
 has attained to that pitch of prosperity, when he can do more 
 with his eyes and his ears, than with his hands and feet. 
 As to pefsonal expenses, let him avoid all unnecessary con- 
 sumption of money in dress and ornaments. Let it be no 
 part of your ambition, young men, to be noticed and admired 
 for matters of this kind. It is a very grovelling ambition to 
 be complimented for that with which the draper, the mercer, 
 and the jeweller, may bedizen the veriest fool in existence. 
 How mean and petty is foppery compared with an enlight- 
 ened mind, a dignified character, and the beauties of holi- 
 ness. I am not an advocate for either meanness or sloven- 
 liness. Cleanliness and neatness border upon virtue, as 
 excessive foppery and expensiveness do upon vice. It is 
 unworthy of a female to be inordinately fond of dress — but 
 for a man to love finery is despicable indeed. Avoid also 
 the love of pleasure, for '^ he that loveth pleasurf 
 SHALL BE A POOR MAN." Ncvcr wcrc trucr words uttered. 
 The man who is bent upon what is called " enjoying him^ 
 self^'''* who will have his ^.jon companions, his amusements, 
 and his frequent seasons of recreation : who is fond of par- 
 ties, entertainments, the gaming table, the ball room, the 
 concert, and the theatre — is on the high road to poverty in 
 this world, and to hell in the next. Let the lover of plea- 
 sure read the history of Samson in the Old Testament, and 
 of the Prodigal in the New — and also let him turn back to 
 the illustrations contained iu the last sermon. If you would 
 
232 THE YOUNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 have oconomical habits as a master, cultivate them as a ser 
 vant. Begin now and persevere. But you must carry out 
 the principle of economy into your domestic estahlishment. 
 Frugality in the house is a virtue, and extravagance a vice. 
 If you would have elegance and luxuries at the close of life, 
 he content with necessaries at the beginning of it. He that 
 must have superfluities at the beginning, will in all proba- 
 bility have scarcely comforts at the end. Let your furni- 
 ture, your style of living, your whole domestic establishment, 
 be all arranged upon the principle of a rigid, though not 
 mean economy. Never aim to cover over poverty by ex- 
 travagance, nor adopt the false principle that style is neces- 
 sary to success. Such conduct often defeats its own end, by 
 exciting suspicion and undermining credit. Wise creditors 
 have keen and vigilant eyes that look not only at the shop 
 but penetrate into the dining and drawing room, and that 
 watch the mode of living as well as of doing business. They 
 deal more readily and upon better terms with the frugal 
 man, than with the extravagant one. The basis of credit is 
 laid in economical simplicity and plain living, not in unsub- 
 stantial splendor,— -just as the foundation of a house consists 
 of unadorned bricks and unsculpturcd stone, and not in 
 carved and gilded wood. It is the diligent and frugal man 
 who is considered to be the trustworthy one. But while I 
 recommend economy, I woula with equal force condemn 
 meanness, and reprobate with stronger language still, a want 
 of principle. There have been men of fine talents, and 
 otherwise excellent character, who have well-nigh ruined 
 themselves by a spirit of mean and starveling economy, 
 which grudged the very means of success. There have been 
 even professing Christians and some of great benevolence 
 too, who from education or hab't have been so mean in their 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINEsrSS. 233 
 
 pecuniary transactions, as to throw a dark shade over their 
 character. Economy, when rigid, has not unfrequently de- 
 generated into a sordid avarice. Hence the necessity of 
 your being on your guard against the meanest of all vices, 
 the most despicable of all passions, and the most insatiable 
 of all appetites — an excessive love of money. It is very 
 striking to observe how seemingly opposite dispositions are 
 balanced in the Word of God. How is industry commended 
 and slothfulness condemned in that precious volume, and yet 
 in that same Book is it said, " Labor not to be rich ;" " La- 
 bor not for the bread that perisheth ;" " Lay not up for 
 yourselves treasures on earth ;" " They that will be rich fall 
 into temptation and a snare, and into many foolish and hurt- 
 ful lusts which drown men in destruction ; for the love of 
 money is the root of all evil, which while some have coveted 
 after, they have erred from the faith, and pierced themselves 
 through with many sorrows." Does not this look like con- 
 tradiction .'' If it does — it is not so in reality. These 
 seemingly opposing passages are intended to teach us that 
 we are neither to despise money, nor to be fond of it. Diffi- 
 cult I know it is to define covetousness — to draw the line 
 with precision between idolatry and contempt of wealth — 
 and to state that exact regard to money which industry re- 
 quires to stimulate and reward its energies, and which both 
 reason and revelation justify. When, however, wealth ia 
 considered as the chief end of life, and is exclusively sought, 
 to the entire neglect of religion — when it is pursued at the 
 expense of principle and honor — when it is the first thing 
 coveted, and the last thing relinquished — when it is loved 
 for its own sake, instead of its uses — when it is hoarded for 
 the sake of mere accumulation, instead of being diffused for 
 God's glory, and man's benefit — when it is regarded as tha 
 
234 TUE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 standard of individual importance both for ourselves and 
 others — it has then become the tyrant of the soul, which it 
 has enslaved, it may be with fetters of silver and gold, but 
 which is not the less a miserable bond slave because of the 
 splendor and value of its manacles. 
 
 7. Perseverance is also necessary to success. Without 
 this nothing good or great can be achieved in our world. 
 Success is not so much a creation, as a gradual formation — 
 a slow deposit. In business it usually proceeds on the prin- 
 ciple of arithmetical progression, till at a certain stage, and 
 and in some few instances, it changes its ratio of increase to 
 that of geometrical progression. The ascent in life is usually 
 the reverse of that of a mountain. In the latter case the 
 steepest part is near the summit ; in the former at the base. 
 Both, however, require, perseverance. He that would suc- 
 ceed must not expect to reach his object bj/ a light, easy, and 
 elastic bound., but by many a successive and weary step, and 
 occasionally perhaps, by a step backwards. He must go on 
 sometimes amidst discouragement, and always with labor. 
 There are some who cannot succeed, because they will not 
 wait for it. If success does not come at first they will not 
 follow after it. They are as impatient as the foolish child 
 that sowed his seed in the morning, and went to bed hopeless 
 and crying because he did not see it springing up beforo 
 sunset. Be ever hopeful — prayerful — and persevering. 
 " In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold 
 not thy hand, for thou knowest not whether shall prosper 
 either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good." 
 " Behold the husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of 
 the earth, and hath long patience for it. Be ye also 
 p.'itient." 
 
 8. The possession or the want of religion^ will have con- 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILURE IN BUSINESS. 235 
 
 jiderable influence upon success or failure. Not that I 
 mean to say all religious persons will be prosperous, and that 
 all irreligious ones sink to adversity. But of this we may be 
 sure, that piety contains most of those qualities which tend 
 to success, while sin, where it leads on, as it frequently does, 
 to vice, tends, to ruin. God has some better promises than 
 of wealth and honor for his people, even glory everlasting ; 
 but then godliness, as we have often said, has the promise 
 of the life that now is, as well as of that which is to come. 
 Wisdom, as we saw in the last sermon, has riches and honor 
 in her right hand, for those who submit to her sway. It is 
 quite certain that many who have come to poverty and ruin 
 have been dragged down by iniquity, while many have suc- 
 ceeded who owe their prosperity to their piety. We have 
 examples of this in Holy Scripture. Religion made Joseph 
 prosper in the house of Potiphar, and raised him to the 
 eminence he obtained in Egypt. Religion elevated David 
 to the throne of Israel. Religion made Daniel prime minister 
 of Babylon. Religion made Nehemiah governor of Judea. — 
 And though we may not expect such and so great rewards, it 
 may still bring prosperity. It is the parent of virtue, the 
 protector of health, the nurse of economy, the patron of 
 industry, the guardian of integrity, the promoter of know- 
 ledge, and thus the guide to success and the helper of 
 prosperity. 
 
 And now let me set before you the two young men whom 
 I have supposed to set out in life together, the one actually 
 failing, and the other as really succeeding, in business. 
 
 Failure is a word, in such an application of it, pregnant 
 with terrors. What a variety, complication, and depth of 
 sorrows are there in that very simple and not uncommou 
 expressiin, " He has failed in business.'''' You are happily 
 
236 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 unable by reflection, may you never be able by experience 
 to grasp that comprehension of wretchedness. 
 
 Now, young men, I present the fearful subject, the dread 
 ful possibility to you, first of all, to excite a desire, an anxiety, 
 an earnest solicitude, that in your case it may never be 
 realized. Prevention is better than cure. It is easier to 
 avert ruin by industry and economy, than to bring back pros- 
 perity when it has once retired. Be this easier task then 
 your first care and endeavor. For you, ruin is yet happily 
 only in picture ; a scene for the imagination to contemplate : 
 except, indeed, as the reality is seen in the history of some 
 acquaintance. Though it were not well to fill your mind 
 with dark imaginings and gloomy forebodings, lest such 
 thoughts become predictions, and the predictions verify by 
 fulfilling themselves, — yet is it well to look at the dreadful 
 picture, in order not indeed to quail before it, but to bring 
 up your mind to the determination, " By God's grace upon 
 my own intelligence, industry, economy, and perseverance, 
 this shall never be my lot , but if, in the mysteries of Provi- 
 dence, it should befal me, it shall not be made more dreadful 
 by the venom of self-reproach — it shall come from the ordi- 
 nation of God, and not from my own misconduct." 
 
 Still I will suppose that you may^ and that some of you 
 wUl fail. What then ? The answer to this depends upon 
 the causes of the disaster. 1 will not deny that this in some 
 cases is to be traced entirely to the dispensations of Provi- 
 dence, without any blame to the individual himself. I would 
 not break the bruised reed by heaping censure upon one 
 who is an object of pity and sympathy. I would not pour 
 vinegar into the wounds of his lacerated heart, and quite 
 crush his broken spirits, by telling him that his misfortunes 
 a,ie his faults. If, after exercising the abilities and virtuef 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 237 
 
 (K {*^tOL traieRmaa, after struggling hard and long, it should 
 bo j'O^ir iot to he compelled to yield to difficulties utterly 
 in&tipeycUe by skill and labor, — in that case, first of all, 
 bow with submission to the will of God. Indulge no hard 
 thoughts of God. Keep down a gloomy hopelessness a 
 sullen despondency, a comfortless grief. Call in religion to 
 your aid. Open your Bible. Pour out your heart in prayer. 
 Believe in God, in Providence, in Christ. Take it as matter 
 to be relied upon, that there is some wise and merciful end 
 to be answered by these painful events. Perhaps you were 
 setting out in life, forgetful of God. You were striving to 
 make yourself happy without him. You were entering upon 
 your career in a state of practical atheism. Success in busi- 
 ness would have been your spiritual ruin. The gain of the 
 world would have been tho loss of your soul. God spake 
 unto you in what you thoughi. was your procperity and you 
 would not hear : and now he eslh to you in harsher tones, 
 and says to you in the language of the text, consider. 
 Consider the author of your troubles — that they come from 
 God : their cause — that sin is the bitv'er fountain of every 
 bitter stream : their design — to do you good : and their im- 
 pressive lesson — to teach the vanity of all things earthly, 
 and the necessity of a better portion for man's heart. Ah, 
 young man, you have indeed sorrowfully proved the uncer- 
 tainty of all things earthly. How soon and how suddenly 
 has the beautiful prospect, which expanded its varied land- 
 scape before your admiring eyes and glowing heart, been 
 covered with mist and gloom. How have all those ardent 
 hopes which such a scene inspired, withered in your soul and 
 left it bleak and desolate. Well, amidst the fragments of 
 your broken cisterns, now look up to the great fountain of 
 happiness, pouring out its never failing streams before you 
 
238 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 Earth has failed ; now turn to heaven. The world has dio- 
 appointed you, now turn to religion. The creature has for- 
 saken you ; now turn to the Creator. All is not lost. 
 
 Besides, you may yet recover. You have failed — but it is 
 in early life, not in its decline. You have the main portion 
 of existence yet before you, and have health and vigor on 
 your side and in your favor ; and in the case I am supposing 
 with your character unimpaired and your principles unsuspec- 
 ted. It may be only a step back to spring forward with 
 greater vigor. It may be prosperity postponed, not put off 
 for ever. This painful experience might be necessary for 
 you. It may be to prevent a sudden plethora which would 
 have been fatal to you. Abandon not hope then. Do not 
 let the mainspring be broken. Give not youself to despair. 
 The sun is not gone down, but is only veiled with a cloud. 
 Begin afresh — make good use of your experience. Look 
 up for God's blessing ; and you will have it. 
 
 But where the failure is the result of blame-worthy con- 
 duct, what shall be said ? Even here I would not be harsh, 
 severe, and reproachful ; but would blend tenderness with 
 fidelity. Be humble before God. Your want of attention, 
 industry, and economy, is a sin to be confessed to Him, as 
 well as a matter to be bewailed on your own account. You 
 have neglected God's commands, as well as your own inte- 
 rests. You have abused the gifts of Providence, as well as 
 trifled with your own happiness. And you cannot be in a 
 right state of mind unless there be penitence, humiliation, 
 and confession. God is displeased with you ; and you must 
 seek his forgiveness through faith in our Lord Jesus Christ. 
 You must take care to blame yourself, not God, for your 
 present situation. Especially must you be careful not to 
 apply to wrong sources of relief. Misfortune and miscon- 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 239 
 
 duct have led, in thousands of instances, to drinking. Broken 
 in fortune, and equally broken in spirits, men have endea- 
 vored to gain a momentary oblivion of their sorrows in tho 
 exhilaration or stupefaction of intoxication liquor. Dread- 
 ful resort. What is this but to add crime to misery, and 
 when the effect of the poisonous draught is over, to over- 
 whelm the miserable dupe of intoxication with sorrows 
 envenomed by the stings of remorse ! It is indeed a horrible 
 idea, but one that is often realized, that drunkenness should 
 select some of its many victims from the ranks of misfortune, 
 and thus complete the ruin which incompetency or indolence 
 had begun, by depriving the subject of it of all power and all 
 disposition to repair the mischief which his vices had entailed. 
 But I now, in contrast, take up the case of those who 
 succeed ; a happy, and I rejoice to think, not a very small 
 class. It is a delightful, and to you my young friends, an 
 encouraging thought, that success, varied of course in 
 degrees, is the rule, and failure the exception. Conceive 
 then of the man who by the blessing of God upon his ability, 
 industry, and economy, makes good his ground, and advances 
 in life to respectable competency, perhaps to affluence. The 
 text calls upon him to be joyful ; a state of mind, in which 
 without such call, he is likely to be found. A Christian 
 is to be joyful not only in^ but /or his prosperity. His joy, 
 however, should be a religious, not a sensual joy. He is not 
 to express his delight by conviviality, extravagance, splen- 
 dor, and all the other delights of sense and taste. He is 
 piously to trace up all his prosperity to God. He is not 
 boastfully to look round upon his possessions, and say, " My 
 own hand hath gotten me this ;" and thus, to use the lan- 
 guage of the prophet, " Sacrifice unto their own net, and 
 burn incense to their dragy because by them their j^ortion is 
 11 
 
240 TliE YOUNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 fat^ and their meat plenteous.'^'' Hab. i. 16. let your joy 
 be subordinate to a higher and nobler felicity. I mean the 
 felicity derived from true religion. Prosperity, if it has its 
 joys, has also its snares. It is, as regards the moral char- 
 acter — the interests of the soul, and man's eternal destiny — 
 a most perilous condition. " How hardly shall they that 
 have riches enter into the kingdom of God. It is easier for 
 a camel to go through the eye of a needle, than for a rich 
 man to enter into the kingdom of heaven." " The prosperity 
 of fools shall slay them." Multitudes have lost their souls 
 in gaining a fortune. Their wealth has been their curse. 
 Their gold, the weight that dragged them down to perdition. 
 And after all, " What shall it profit a man, if he gain the 
 whole world, and lose his own soul.^" The whole world is 
 no more compensation for the loss of the soul, than a feather 
 or a grain of sand. " Seek first the kingdom of Grod and his 
 righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you." 
 Be made happy by religion. "Hejoice in Hit Lordj and 
 again I say, rejoice." 
 
 But the best way to use, to enjoy, and even to preserve 
 prosperity, is to sanctify it by true religion and to employ it 
 for Christian liberality. Set out in life with the intelligent, 
 deliberate, and fixed determination, that if you should suc- 
 ceed in business, your prosperity shall in due measure be 
 consecrated to the cause of Grod and man. Already make up 
 your mind to this opinion, that the chief design, and highest 
 enjoyment of wealth, is diffusion, rather than accumulaticu. 
 Instead of admiring the men whom you see living in splendid 
 houses, rolling about in gay equipages, and faring sumptu- 
 ously every day ; but who all this while are known by their 
 grandeur, but not by their public spirit, liberality, and good 
 works — fix your delighted gaze upon those nobler spirits^ 
 
SUCCEEDING OR FAILING IN BUSINESS. 241 
 
 who while sustaining with propriety, yet simplicity, the rank 
 which Providence has assigned to them in society, are 
 economical that they might be liberal, and are redeeming 
 time from business, ease and elegant retirement to glorify 
 God and bless their species. Look at the Howards, the 
 Wilberforces, the Thorntons, the Wilsons, the Reynolds' — 
 men who gave their talents, their influence, and their lives, 
 to the slave, the prisoner, and the debtor — who renounced, 
 in some cases, the gains of business for the pursuits of be- 
 nevolence ; and in others, carried it on, to have larger means 
 to assist the cause of humanity and religion — who lived for 
 others rather than for themselves — and who had far more 
 enjoyment while they lived, and will ever have far more 
 honor after their death, than the sordid and selfish, whose 
 wealth, while it did little to make them happy or respected 
 upon earth, will neither preserve their names from oblivion, 
 nor yield them a fragment of reward in heaven. 
 
 Wait not till you are rich before you begin to be benevo- 
 lent. Let the beginnings of your success be consecrated by 
 the beginnings of your devotedness. I knew a Christian 
 philanthropist who set out in life by consecrating a tenth of 
 his income to God. He did this when he had but a hundred 
 a year. He became at length possessed of eight thousand a 
 year, and having no children, he did not then satisfy himself 
 with the tithe, as he had commenced, but spent less than 
 two thousand a year on his own simple and elegant estab- 
 lishment, and gave all the rest away. How much happier, 
 as well as holier, was that Christian man, than those who 
 hoard for they know not whom — or than those who lavish 
 their wealth on splendor, luxury, and pleasure : and, 0, the 
 different reception he will meet with at the bar of God, 
 where wealth must be accounted for — and in eternity, where 
 
242 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 the successful, but irreligious worldling will remember and 
 be punished for his unsanctified prosperity ! 
 
 And now, in conclusion, let me remind you of another 
 reference of this alternative of failure or success — I mean to 
 the great trial ever going on in this world, and which must 
 issue in the ruin or the salvation of your immortal soul. 
 You are here upon a probation for eternity. Your chief 
 business is religion — your supreme object should be immor- 
 tality. He that is enabled to repent, to believe, and to lead 
 a holy life, notwithstanding the temptations by which he is 
 surrounded — who thus obtains the salvation that is in Christ 
 Jesus, with eternal glory — though he should fail in every 
 thing else, may look round upon the wreck of all his hopes, 
 prospects, and fortunes, exulting even now in the greatness 
 and the grandeur of his success — and shall stand, at the last 
 day, upon the ashes of the globe, after the general conflagra- 
 tion, exclaiming, '"'' I have lost nothing.''^ While he, who so 
 far succeeds as to gain every thing else that is dear to ambi- 
 tion, to avarice, and to sensuality, but fails to obtain the one 
 thing needful — the salvation of his soul — stands now amidst 
 all his prosperity, a miserable instance of failure in all the 
 great objects of man's immortal being — shall be seen in the 
 day of judgment, a ruined and lost immortal, — and shall 
 wander for ever through the universe, with this awful ex- 
 clamation, " 1 HAVE VOLUNTARILY, DELIBERATELY, AND 
 IRRECOVERABLY INCURRED A FAILURE, WHICH WILL RE- 
 QUIRE AN ETERNITY TO UNDERSTAND, AND AN ETERNITY TO 
 
THE YOUNG MAN EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGl 
 COUNTRY. 
 
 "Whither shall I go from thy Spirit ? Or whither shall I flee frojn 
 thy presence ? 
 
 " If I ascend up into heaven, thou art there ; if I make my bed in 
 hell, behold thou art there. 
 
 " If I take the wings of the morning and dwell in the uttermost parts 
 of the sea, even there shall thy hand lead me and thy right hand shall 
 hold me." — Psalm cxxxix. 7-10. 
 
 God made this world to be inhabited, and did not intend 
 that it should ever remain an untenanted bouse, or be occu- 
 pied only by beings who have no minds to understand his 
 nature — no hearts to love him for his favors — and no tongues 
 to speak his praise. To man as well as to the inferior crea- 
 tures he said, " Be fruitful and multiply and replenish the 
 earth." And yet at this period of our planet's history, nearly 
 six thousand years after the fitting up of the globe for man's 
 residence, there are vast tracts of the earth, amounting to 
 islands and continents, occupied only by birds, beasts, and 
 reptiles. Yet even the fact of these desolations subserves a 
 moral purpose, inasmuch as they corroborate the chronology 
 of the Bible ; for, upon the acknowledged principles of the 
 increase of population, the date of the commencement of 
 
244 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 our race could not be much otherwise than that assigned to 
 it in revelation. These now unpeopled regions must have 
 been long since filled up, had the world been much older 
 than is asserted in the Mosaic history of creation. Upon 
 the same principles it is evident that this world cannot con- 
 tinue an indefinite period, at least without some depopula- 
 ting process with which we are unacquainted in the world's 
 history. 
 
 Our earth is yet to " yield it's increase," — the Trans-atlan- 
 tic world, capable of sustaining half the present population 
 of the globe, but till lately tenanted only by savages in 
 the north, and a half-civilised race in the south — yea, till 
 within four centuries unknown to all the other people on 
 the face of the globe : the island continent of New Holland, 
 with only a scattered sprinkling of savages for its aboriginal 
 inhabitants : the Polynesian groups of insular abodes of our 
 race : with all other yet uninhabited spots of earth wljere 
 means of support and occupation for man can be obtained, 
 are to be covered with an intelligent, busy population ; and 
 where now the forest throws its dark shadow over its innu- 
 merable flying or creeping tribes — or where the wilderness is 
 the range of herds of untamed beasts — or where the jungle 
 afibrds a shelter to the tiger, the elephant, or the serpent — 
 there shall the dwellings of men and the sanctuaries of God 
 be seen ; and the hum of commerce, and the anthems of 
 religion be heard. 
 
 The replenishing of our earth is going forward : never 
 more rapidly than in the day and from the country in which 
 we live. Colonization and emigration are two of the grand- 
 est features of our age. Infant kingdoms are being born to 
 Britain, and our country is becoming the mother of nations. 
 Myriads and myriads, year after year, are wafted not only in 
 
EMIGPvATIXG TO A FOREIGN LAND. 245 
 
 ships, but we might almost say in fleets, to the shores of 
 America, Australia, and New Zealand. The vast tide of 
 population is flowing westward to relieve our somewhat over- 
 crowded towns and cities, and to found new towns and cities 
 in the wilds of those distant realms. Thus are the plans of 
 Providence carried out, to have a peopled world instead of a 
 wilderness : and thus are the predictions of holy writ accom- 
 plished, which assure us that the knowledge of the Lord 
 shall cover the earth. Every thing falls into the current of 
 God's gracious purposes towards our dark disordered world — ■ 
 every thing indicates human improvement and the progress 
 of social existence — every thing flows in the direction of the 
 Bible and harmonises with its tendency, design, and announce- 
 ments — every thing is making way for the universal spread 
 and triumph of religion, for the reign of Christ, for the 
 millennial glory and the jubilee of the world. 
 
 You, my friends, some of you at least, may by joining the 
 multitude of emigrants be instrumental in this great work of 
 replenishing the earth with people, and by true religion, of 
 carrying the light of divine truth to the ends of the earth. 
 
 This then is my subject on the present occasion, — 
 
 The Young Man eviigrating to a Foreign Land. 
 
 In treating this subject, I shall consider 
 
 First, his decision. 1 will suppose the resolve is taken — 
 the plan laid — the purpose unalterable. But what has led to 
 it ? There are various and very different motives and grounds 
 for such a step. In some cases it is obedience to the stern 
 dictate of necessity. Misconduct at home renders it matter 
 of compulsion rather than of choice, to go abroad ; it is a 
 flight rather than a voluntary departure. Reputation may 
 have been lost, and lost also the hope of retrieving it here. 
 This is a painful case — but not a hopeless one. If this be 
 
246 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 your condition, you will have abundant and most favorablo 
 opportunities for rectifying what is amiss, without being sub- 
 ject to the suspicion, neglect, rebukes, and frowns of those 
 who knew you in your better days. On your voyage reflect 
 upon your conduct, review the past. Dare to look back. 
 When pacing the deck at night, or lying in your hammock, 
 or listening to the awful roar of the tempest, not knowing 
 but you may be soon .swallowed up in those billows which 
 are raging around you, and which every now and then are 
 breaking over your trembling vessel, repent before God — 
 seek his pardoning mercy through Christ — and implore his 
 Holy Spirit to help you first to resolve upon amendment, 
 and then to carry out your resolution. Determine to begin a 
 new life in a new world. Resolve to set out afresh. There 
 is hope for you yet. Carry a Bible with you — read it — and 
 make it your counsellor, comforter, and companion. You 
 have neglected religion and your sins have found you out. 
 You are in imminent danger of becoming worse instead of 
 better for the change. Bad companions may have been your 
 ruin. You will now be broken off from their circle — but 
 then, unless you are firm, you will find worse where you are 
 going. You have neglected religion and this has been your 
 bane. Now take it up, and it will not only reclaim and 
 reform you, but it will be your friend in reference to things 
 seen and temporal as well as things eternal. If you are wise, 
 you will turn this dire necessity of leaving your country 
 into a means of obtaining the signal blessing of the salvation 
 of your soul. I knew a youth, the son of an eminently holy 
 minister, who ran a profligate course till his crimes cast him 
 as a convict upon the shore of a foreign land, where he 
 reflected upon his course — became a penitent — and died, 
 we hope, a sincere Christian. Nor is this the only case oJ 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 247 
 
 the same kind I have known. Even our penal colonies, 
 notwithstanding the enormities of the transportation system, 
 have thus furnished instances of reclaimed convicts, who have 
 risen to respectability and wealth. The veriest outcast ot 
 society may recover. Reformation is not impossible in the 
 worst of cases. 
 
 But there may be another kind of necessity that is driving 
 you away from your native shores — you have failed at the 
 outset of life. Your prospects have faded — your fortunes 
 have been broken, and now with the hope of repairing them, 
 you are going to a foreign land. If this has happened 
 through your own misconduct — you too must be humbled 
 before God, and invoke his forgiveness ; and when you have 
 done this, but not till then, you may seek his blessing upon 
 the step you are taking. Employ much of your time also in 
 a severe inquiry into your habits. Detect, as you easily 
 may, the cause of failure, and determine to remove it. The 
 same cause, if carried to a distant land, will produce the 
 same effects there. Change of country will not be of the 
 slightest benefit to you without a change of conduct Indo- 
 lence and extravagance will as certainly bring ruin in Austra- 
 lia as in England. You must alter, and may. A new sphere 
 of action will present a new opportunity for alteration, and a 
 new motive. But should your failure be the result of no 
 fault of yours, trust in God. Earnestly pray for his help and 
 blessing. Leave your country with hope. It may be that 
 you too neglected religion in your happier days. If so, now 
 take it up. I say to you also, carry with you a Bible, and a 
 few religious books. Have the moral courage not to be 
 ashamed of being seen with these silent companions. You 
 will find many on board who will ridicule you, but then shall 
 they laugh you out of your convictions } Will you be afraid 
 11* 
 
248 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 of a sneer, when your soul and salvation are at stake ? Do 
 not put oflf the subject of religion till you land. This will be 
 to ensure the neglect of it. Your mind will then be so hur- 
 ried in seeking employment, and be so taken up with the 
 novelties of a foreign country, as to have little leisure or 
 inclination for attending to spiritual things. With religion 
 in your heart, you may step ashore in New Zealand or in 
 America, with the hope that Grod will befriend you in the 
 land of your adoption ; and that the tide of your affairs will 
 there turn in your favor. 
 
 But by far the greatest class of emigrants is composed of 
 those who go out with a spirit of adventure — with the hope 
 of doing better for themselves abroad than at home. Every 
 department of action is here so crowded — competition is so 
 fierce — and situations of advantage are so rare, that they 
 have little hope of success at home, and turn their attention 
 to one or other of our rising colonies. I know not that such 
 persons arc to be blamed ; and yet it is a step to be taken 
 with much deliberation, caution, and prayer. Where a young 
 man has an opportunity of doing well for himself in his own 
 country, there seems no reason, except it be an inordinate 
 ambition or a love of adventure, that leads him to another 
 land. Neither of these impulses is a very sufficient one for 
 expatriation. There will always be found an adequate num- 
 ber of those who really are not doing very well here, and 
 could do a great deal better abroad, to keep up the stream 
 of emigration, without their going who are doing well at 
 home. There is great wisdom in the advice, to " let well 
 alone." A love of change is a dark portent in the character 
 of any young man. He that goes abroad for this, will soon 
 come back again from the same impulse. There is nothing 
 which a young man should more earnestly dread, nothing 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 249 
 
 he should more assiduously watch against, nothing ha 
 should more resolutely resist, than this versatility : it will 
 be fatal to all his hopes and prospects. Still there are very 
 many cases in which it is not only justifiable, but even com" 
 mendable, to emigrate : and when the character and conduct 
 are good ; where there are those qualities of mind which are 
 likely to make the individual a blessing to the land to which 
 he is going as well as a benefit to his own family and fortune, 
 we cannot but approve the decision. 
 
 Secondly. Having thus distinguished between the difierent 
 classes of emigrants, I now shall speak of their trials. 
 
 In most cases there is the separation from friends. Not 
 unfrequently the emigrant has to tear himself from the arms 
 and fond embrace of a loving and beloved mother, and from 
 the warm grasp of an affectionate father ; and he who has 
 outgrown or outlived all sensibilities of this nature, gives 
 poor evidence of right feeling of any kind, and holds out 
 faint hope of being likely to obtain God's blessing upon his 
 future course. Adieu, is always a sad sound, when parents 
 and children — brothers and sisters, are parting ; but especially 
 when in all probability, thoy are parting for ever. And 
 besides this, is it nothing to expatriate ourselves from our 
 native land .? Why the irrational creatures love the spot of 
 their birth, and their early dwelling ; and this is an instinct 
 which man shares with them. It is long before the charms 
 of those expressions cease to be felt, " My country and my 
 father's house." I can fancy the thoughtful emigrant 
 watching from the deck of his vessel, with tearful eyes and 
 intense feeling, the receding shores of his native land — seeing 
 her green fields and white cliffs ; her steeples and her houses ; 
 becoming more and more dim — straining his eyes still to see 
 the last speck of land that is distinctly visible — and then 
 
250 THE YOUNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 looking upon the mighty waste of waters, till in an agony he 
 exclaims, " Land of my fathers, and art thou gone r" Then 
 the voyage — its length — its inconvenience — its hard fare and 
 want of accommodations — its sea-sickness, and other inde- 
 scribable annoyances — its often disagreeable companions and 
 uncongenial society. These things end, but only to be 
 exchanged in many cases for trials of another kind. Oh, to 
 light upon a new world, alike unknowing and unknown — to 
 be a stranger in a strange land with no one to recognize or 
 smile upon him — to be informed that some whom he expected 
 to welcome him on these distant shores, arc either dead or 
 removed to. another place ; and to meet no one to stretch out 
 the hand of friendship, or to impress the seal of love — to 
 have to seek employment where perhaps the labor market 
 is overstocked, and to be long without finding occupation — 
 to see the little stock of money well nigh spent, without any 
 means of replenishing it — to find all the dreams of colonial 
 prosperity nothing but dreams, and see all the hopes of im- 
 mediate success, so long and so confidently cherished, vanish 
 like the baseless fabric of a vision — to discover too late, or at 
 any rate to begin to think, he has made a mistake in leaving 
 his native country — these, all these, are among the trials 
 which many of our emigrants have to endure. And even 
 where they are not altogether of so dreary an aspect as this, 
 yet are they, except in rare cases, many more and far greater 
 than the most sober calculation had expected. A very large 
 proportion of the settlers have their location in such thinly 
 peopled spots as to be miles apart from their nearest neigh- 
 bor — and have to endure so many privations as to be almost 
 reduced to the barest necessaries of existence. 
 
 If the man be a Christian who loves the house of God — . 
 the means of grace — the ministry of the Word — the over* 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 25' 
 
 sight and conversation of a faithful pastor — and the fellow- 
 ship of saints, he feels in addition a deprivation of all these 
 He dwells perhaps, in a spot of which he may say, 
 
 " The sound of the church-going bell, 
 These valleys and rocks never heard ; 
 Never sighed at the sound of the knell, 
 Nor snniled when the Sabbath appeared.'* 
 
 To hear a sermon, he must travel perhaps miles, and to 
 break the bread of communion with the saints, he must 
 travel still farther. Such are but a few of the trials of an 
 emigrant's life. I could tell a tale of woe connected with 
 some who have gone out from my own church, which would 
 harrow up your feelings to a degree of intense suffering. 
 Not however that affliction often falls with such weight as it 
 has done in the case to which I now allude. 
 
 Such things should make you cautious how you determine 
 to encounter them, and should prepare your mind for the 
 struggle, by laying up a good store of consolation for the 
 evil day. And what can this be but religion ? The trials 
 of very many emigrants are fewer and lighter than I have 
 described ; and I have drawn the picture thus darkly, not to 
 prevent expatriation nor to fill the emigrant's mind with 
 dark misgivings, but to check that proneness to think a 
 foreign shore a fairy land, in which so many indulge. The 
 danger lies on the side of thinking too lightly of the trials 
 of such a life, and not preparing for them, rather than on 
 the side of having too gloomy an apprehension of them. 
 
 Thirdly. It is a part of fidelity to remind you of your 
 DANGERS. It would not bc kind to attempt to fill your 
 mind with the perils of the ocean, and the dangers of ship- 
 wreck, or the other casualties of a voyage. Nor is it probabla 
 
252 THE YOUNG NTAn's FRIEND. 
 
 that you will be called to a calamity so fearful. I know not 
 the proportion of fatal voyages to successful ones, but 1 
 should suppose they are not as one to a hundred. So that 
 apprehension of this kind need not greatly alarm you. 
 Still, your vessel may founder at sea, or be wrecked on some 
 foreign shore, and it is well by sincere and humble piety to 
 be prepared for the worst. Religion will enable you to meet 
 death at sea in the storm, as well as in the calm on dryland. 
 An eminent Christian minister, in the prospect of a voyage, 
 when contemplating the possibility of shipwreck, recorded 
 thus his feelings under the possibility of such a catastrophe, 
 " How willingly should 1 embrace that wave, which instead 
 of landing me at Liverpool, should land me in heaven." 
 The Rev. Mr. M'Kenzie, who was lost in the Pegasus^ on his 
 way from Leith to London, was seen when the vessel was 
 sinking divested of all fear for himself, calmly directing the 
 minds of his perishing fellow-passengers to look by faith to 
 Jesus, and thus prepare for that eternity on which in a few 
 moments they were about to enter. See what religion can do 
 for its possessors amidst the roar of the tempest, or when 
 the ocean is opening its mouth to swallow him up. Could 
 yoji thus hopefully and peacefully descend into a watery 
 grave .'' 
 
 But death sometimes comes on board an emigrant ship 
 which escapes the tempest. To die at sea is no uncommon 
 thing. Death, like its Omnipotent Lord and Conqueror, 
 often walks the waves, and approaches the affrighted mari- 
 ners, and steps aboard the vessel, not however as in the case 
 of Jesus on the lake of Gennesaret, to relieve, but to confirm 
 the fears of those who watch his approach. To a good man 
 there is nothing very terrible in this. True it is that the 
 ocean is not the house, nor a ship the chamber, in which any 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 253 
 
 one would choom to endure his last sickness and meet the last 
 enemy. But a believing sense of God's presence and lovo 
 — a peaceful repose on the bosom of Christ's mercy — and 
 the prospect of a glorious immortality — can make a death- 
 bed easy even there. And the real Christian can endure 
 without dismay the thought of sleeping in the bottom of the 
 ocean, amidst the monsters of the deep, instead of a sepulchre 
 on dry land — assured that at the resurrection morning, " the 
 sea will give up the dead which are in it." 
 
 These, however, are not the greatest or most imminent 
 dangers to which you will be exposed ; or those of which you 
 should be most afraid ; or against which you need to bo most 
 impressively and anxiously warned by your friends. Perils 
 of a moral kind, and fearful ones too, will beset your path. 
 
 What Ob mixture of society is to be found in every emigrant 
 ship that floats its living cargo to a distant shore. There 
 you will probably find the vicious of both sexes — the infidel, 
 the debauchee, the gambler, the drunkard — the men of al' 
 principles and of no principle — the men of bankrupt for- 
 tune, and what is worse, of bankrupt character. And not 
 unlikely will " the strange woman" be there, " whose lips 
 drop as a honey-comb, and whose mouth is smoother than 
 oil, but whose end (to you as well as to herself, if you are 
 ensnared by her) is bitter as wormwood, sharp as a two- 
 edged sword ; whose feet go down to death, and her steps 
 take hold on hell," with those also whom she inveigles. In 
 the best appointed ships will be found society, with which if 
 you associate, it may imperil your morals and ruin your cha- 
 racter and your hopes for both worlds. An association of 
 this kind being once formed, you cannot avoid its contami- 
 nating influence for a single day. You cannot get away 
 from it, if you wou^d. The tempter is ever in sight — evoi 
 
254 THE YOUNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 at your elbow and your ear. There is no wider range for 
 you to move in than the vessel which contains you both. 
 The danger is thus greater than can be described or 
 imagined. It will follow you ashore — it will aflfect your cha- 
 racter and conduct when you land, and influence all your 
 future destiny. If then you have the least regard to your 
 welfare, be vigilant, be cautious. Go to the scene of danger 
 aware of it, and look up to God to preserve you. Pray to 
 him to spread over you the shield of his omnipotence. 
 
 Should you however escape this danger on board ship, it 
 will meet you on your landing. Our colonies are not only a 
 field of enterprise for adventurers whether they be the sober 
 and industrious, seeking a legitimate and ample scope for 
 their energies and their hopes, or for the reckless and despe- 
 rate, throwing the dice for their last chance ; but also the 
 retreat of the prodigal and the. profligate, where they may 
 hide their shame and pursue their vicious career, unknown 
 and unobstructed. In addition to this, there is in our penal 
 colonies the infection difiused by the ship-loads of moral 
 feculence which are landed from the ships that convey thither 
 our convicts. In these situations a young man viciously 
 disposed will have every opportunity for gratifying his animal 
 appetites, unrecognised by friends,- and unrestrained by 
 strangers. 
 
 But there are also dangers of another type than these. 
 In a country, the population of which even as regards its 
 better portions, are to a certain extent a vast company of 
 adventurers, who are all beginning life afresh and struggling 
 hard amidst many difficulties to root themselves in the land 
 of their adoption, there is likely to be acquired a peculiar 
 hardness and selfishness of character^ very unfriendly to the 
 tender afi"cctions of the heart, the amenities of life, and the 
 
EMIGRATING TO A iTOREIGN LAND. 253 
 
 spiritual exercises of true religion. The thorns of worldl_y 
 cares, and the stony ground of earthly-mindedness, are but 
 too common everywhere, but especially there, and prevent 
 the growth of the good seed of piety and virtue. Failures 
 are common, and sound principle is soon undermined ; and 
 ia the hard struggle and anxious effort for success, every 
 object but those which pertain to the present world, is lost 
 sight of. The flattering pictures of colonial life and prospe- 
 rity, which the imagination of many had drawn, in which 
 they dreamed of immediate and certain success without fear 
 and almost without labor, are all found to be illusions of the 
 fancy, and they are ready to lie down in despair, or to adopt 
 any course, however dishonorable or even dishonest, not 
 indeed, to gain a fortune which was once their expectation, 
 but a bare living, which is now their highest, yea only hope. 
 How unfavorable is such a situation to the cultivation of 
 piety or even of virtue. 
 
 What carries the danger of all this to the highest pitch is 
 the absence in many parts of our colonies of the means of 
 grace, the ordinances of public worship, the fellowship of 
 saints, and the oversight of ministers. How difficult is it 
 here even, in this highly favored land, by the aid of all these, 
 to keep down sin and to maintain a due regard to the claims 
 of religion and mortality. But how much worse would things 
 be without this. There can be no question that the obser- 
 vance of the Sabbath, the power of the pulpit, and the re- 
 straint of Christian example, tend greatly to moralize and 
 purify the life even where they do not renew the heart — to 
 restrain the sinner where they do not convert him, and to 
 keep down the overflowings of ungodliness where they do 
 not spread out the beauties of holiness. It is true that 
 through the voluntary energies of almost all denominations 
 
256 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 of professing Christians, the deficiency of the means of grace^ 
 in our principal colonial establishments, is being in some 
 considerable measure supplied. But still how many emi- 
 grants are there who go out into the wild, who are not witfe 
 in a days' journey of a place of Christian worship, and 
 scarcely bear a sermon in a year. 
 
 " Oh, think of those who pine to hear, 
 Far from their native shores exiled, 
 A pastor's voice amid the wild." 
 
 What is there in such circumstances to aid the struggles of 
 the soul after good principles and habits here, or salvation 
 hereafter ? And even where the means of grace are, within 
 reach, they are it must be confessed too often of that feeble 
 and ineffici3nt character, so unhappily a contrast with those 
 once enjoyed in the mother country, which renders them 
 neither attractive nor influential. 
 
 Such then are some of the dangers to which the emigrant 
 is exposed : and I now proceed, 
 
 Fourthly. To offer him some counsels and direc- 
 tions. There are, as regards religion, two distinct classes 
 of emigrants. 
 
 There are some who are not living under the influence of 
 true religion. Some of you who shall read these pages 
 answer too justly to this description. You know you are 
 not yet brought to repentance towards God, and faith in the 
 Lord Jesus Christ : that you are not yet led to acknow- 
 ledge God in all your ways, to live habitually in his fear and 
 favor, and to enjoy the comforts of the Holy Spirit. Going 
 out from your own country to a foreign land — without the 
 guidance of religion ! Going to encounter the perils of the 
 ocean and the dangers of shipwreck — without the presence 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 25'? 
 
 of religion ! Going to quit the home of your fathers and 
 sojourn in a strange land — without the companionship of 
 religion ! Going to encounter all the trials, the perplexities, 
 the difficulties of an emigrant's life — without the consolations 
 of religion ! How forlorn a condition ! How desolate a lot ! 
 No acknowledgment of Grod — no trust in him — no prayer to 
 him — no communion with him — no expectation from him ! 
 No preparation of mind to see his immensity shadowed forth 
 in the boundless expanse of the ocean — to hear his awful 
 power, grandeur, and majesty proclaimed in the tempest, 
 the thunder-storm, and the water-spout — to trace his wisdom 
 and goodness in the varied products of new countries — to 
 contemplate his glory and realise his presence every where ! 
 Unhappy man ! You are indeed to be pitied. The world is 
 all before you, but no Providence to be your guide, and 
 direct you where to choose. Oh, pause and ponder upon 
 your condition, and the ways of your feet. Will you, dare 
 you, can you go out without God ? Without God to guide 
 and protect and bless you ? And if without God as a friend, 
 with him as any enemy ! 
 
 Do you forget it is God's world you live in, and God's 
 country to which you are going ? And how can you think 
 of going to it without asking his leave, imploring his 
 guidance, and seeking his blessing ? Recollect you are 
 dependent every moment upon him, and all your future 
 destiny is to be decided by him. He can raise you to pros- 
 perity or depress you to the lowest adversity. He can 
 frustrate or promote all your schemes ; disappoint or realise 
 all your hopes. 
 
 Before you quit your native shore then, yield yourselves 
 unto God, " Remember your Creator^ now^ in the days of 
 you? youth J before thi evil days co?/ie." You are busy in 
 
258 
 
 preparing for the voyage, and are engaged in the solicitudes 
 of the outfit. Religion, true, vital, experimental, decided 
 religion is the best preparation, the most important outfit. 
 Determine by God's grace not to leave your country an 
 enemy to him, lest He send the whirlwind as his messenger 
 to arrest you on the sea, or ruin to overtake you on the dry 
 land. Go forth rather as his servant, his friend, and his 
 son, that to you may be applied the beautiful language of 
 the poet, 
 
 " His are the mountains ; and the valleys his ; 
 His the resplendent rivers ; his to call 
 With a propriety that none can claim, 
 But he who lifts an unpresumptuous eye, 
 And smiling says, " My Father made them all.' " 
 
 Let the voice of friendship prevail, and the anxiety of 
 ministerial fidelity be successful, in persuading you imme- 
 diately to be reconciled to God through faith which is in 
 Christ Jesus. Present in sincerity and earnestness the 
 prayer of Moses, " If thy presence go not with me carry me 
 not up hence." You shall not ask in vain, for the answer 
 shall come, " My presence shall go with thee, and I will 
 give thee rest." Exodus xxxiii. 14-15. You will leave all 
 other fiiends behind you, but your best friend will go with 
 you, and he will be more to you than father, mother, 
 brothers and sisters. Should you determine to act upon 
 this advice, then all which will now be addressed to the next 
 class of emigrants will also appertain to you. 
 
 Many emigrants are already true Christians, and will go 
 out as such. To this class I now address myself with affec- 
 tionate solicitude for your welfare in both worlds. 
 
 First of all I would make a few remarks in the way of 
 CONSOLATION. In your present circumstances you need it, 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 2L9 
 
 and you may have it. I trust you have the peace which 
 arises from the testimony of your conscience, that in leaving 
 your country, you are following the leadings of Providence, 
 and that you see the cloudy pillar moving before you : that 
 it is a lawful object you are pursuing, and one on which you 
 may confidently ask Grod's blessing. This settled, you have 
 in that one thought, " I am where God led me," a world of 
 consolation. In the wreck of either your vessel or your 
 fortunes, you may then be calm and satisfied, for no remorse 
 will increase your terrors or aggravate your sorrows. 
 
 Next you may, and should, reflect with comfort upon the 
 omnipresence of God. This is one of the main props of all 
 religion, whether in the way of holy fear or sacred pleasure 
 — whether with angels in heaven, or with man upon earth. 
 It was the saying of a Jewish Kabbi, " If every man would 
 consider God to be the great eye of the world, watching 
 perpetually over all our actions, and that his hand is inde- 
 fatigable, and his ear ever open, possibly sin might be 
 extirpated from the face of the earth." This is going too 
 far, but it is impressive. Yes, God is everywhere present, 
 though invisible to us. Were the emigrant to leave his God, 
 when he left his country, what crowds of sinners would flee 
 from the presence of the Lord, and escape from the vigilance 
 of his watchful eye — but what Christian would go 1 Pious 
 youth, God goes with you — wherever you go, he is there 
 before you in all the glory of his attributes, in all the tender- 
 ness of his love, in all the faithfulness of his promises, and 
 in all the watchfulness of his providence. Be this your 
 comfort, you cannot flee from his presence. And as God 
 goes with you, so does your gracious Kedeemer, in all his 
 offices, characters, and endearments. So does the Holy 
 Spirit, with all his influences — so does your Bible — so does 
 
260 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 the throne of grace — so does the fellowship of saints, at least 
 to most places. You thus carry your best friends, your 
 richest treasures, your dearest comforts, your safest protec- 
 tion with you. Without these no sun would be lyi'ight ; no 
 scenery beautiful ; no air balmy ; no society agreeable ; and 
 no success joyful : but with these, consolation might bo 
 found on the most desolate shores, and in the most dreary 
 scenes of nature or of Providence, All places are equally 
 near to heaven, and all equally accessible to the falling rays 
 of its glory now. On board the ship ; amidst a wicked 
 crew and noisy passengers, he can be with you ; and equally 
 so in the rising population of some colonial town, or in the 
 dreary wild of some colonial desert. In the deepest solitude 
 you may use the language which the poet has put into the 
 lips of Alexander Selkirk, when dwelling alone on the island 
 of Juan Fernandez. 
 
 " There's mercy in every place, 
 
 And mercy, encouraging thought, 
 Gives even affliction a grace, 
 
 And reconciles man to his lot. 
 The sea-fowl is gone to her nest, 
 
 The beast is laid down in his lair, 
 Ev'n here is a season of rest, 
 
 And I to my cabin repair." 
 
 You remember perhaps the anecdote of Mungo Park, the 
 African Traveller, which I have given in my work entitled, 
 " The Young Man from Home." He was in the heart 
 of Africa, alone and unprotected. He had just been robbed 
 and stripped by a ferocious banditti, and the following is the 
 account he gives of his feelings, and his relief: " After they 
 were gone, I sat for some time, looking around me with 
 amazement and terror. Whichever way I turned, nothing 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 261 
 
 appeared but danger and difficulty. I saw myself in the 
 midst of a vast wilderness, in the depth of the rainy season, 
 naked and alone, surrounded by savage animals, and men 
 still more savage. I was five hundred miles from the near- 
 est European settlement. All these circumstances crowded 
 at once on my recollection, and I confess that my spirit 
 began to fail me. I considered my fate as certain, and that 
 I had no alternative but to lie down and perish. The 
 INFLUENCE OF RELIGION, howtvtr ^ aided and supported me. 
 I reflected that no human prudence or foresight could 
 possibly have averted my present sufferings. I was indeed 
 a stranger in a strange land, yet I was still under the pro- 
 tecting eye of that providence who has condescended to 
 call himself the stranger's friend. At this moment, painful 
 as my reflections were, the extraordinary beauty of a small 
 moss, in fructification, irresistibly caught my eye. I mention 
 this to show from what trifling circumstances the mind will 
 sometimes derive consolation ; for though the whole plant 
 was not longer than the top of one of my fingers, I could not 
 contemplate the delicate conformation of its roots, leaves, 
 and capsule, without admiration. Can that Being, thought 
 I, who planted, watered, and brought to perfection, in this 
 obscure part of the world, a thing which appears of so small 
 importance, look with unconcern upon the situation and 
 suffering of creatures formed after his own image ? — surely 
 not ! Reflections like these would not allow me to despair. 
 I started up, and disregarding both hunger and fatigue, 
 travelled forwards, assured that relief was at hand : and I 
 was not disappointed. In a short time, I came to a small 
 village, at the entrance of which I overtook the two shep- 
 herds who had come with me from Koama. They were 
 much surprised to see me j for they said, they never doubted 
 
262 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 that the Foulahs, when they had robbed, had murdered 
 me." 
 
 But let me now offer you some counsels. Taken away 
 from the means of grace, to which you have been accustomed, 
 you will be in danger of resembling a child weaned at too 
 early an age, and which droops and sickens for want of its 
 mother's milk. On your voyage you will find nothing around 
 you to sustain your faith and godliness, but every thing 
 adverse. For months your Sabbath exercises will perhaps 
 be nothing more than listening to a few prayers, or a sermon 
 formally, coldly, and carelessly read. You will perhaps meet 
 with no one who can talk with you the language of Canaan, 
 and fan by his conversation and prayers the languid flame of 
 your devotion. You will therefore be in imminent peril of 
 losing much of your religion on the voyage. To guard 
 against this, it is well you should take a calm and intelligent 
 view of your situation. In this case, as well as in others, 
 to be fore-warned is to be fore-armed. Be much in prayer, 
 in earnest, wrestling, and believing prayer, before you step 
 on board. Intensely long to be kept, and then you will be 
 kept. God can and will make his grace sufficient for you 
 H6 can preserve you, and will if you desire it, though there 
 is not another Christian in the ship. He will be the lifter 
 up of your head, will sustain you by his power through 
 faith, and will put his glory upon you. 
 
 Do not he ashamed of your religion. Much of future 
 annoyance and embarrassment will be prevented by a bold 
 and honest, yet meek and humble avowal of your principles. 
 The j^rs^ check given to a new phase or aspect of life is that 
 which is most to be dreaded. Decision, maintained with 
 firmness but gentleness, will soon subdue opposition. Your 
 persecutors, if such you should have, will not be slow to 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 263 
 
 find out that it is a bootless expenditure of their ridicule on 
 one who is not affected by it, and who always returns good 
 for evil. But for this moral and spiritual courage, you must 
 be much in prayer. " Of the ichneumon it is stated that 
 when wounded by the serpent with which it is in conflict, or 
 previously to renewing the conflict, it retires by instinct to 
 a particular herb, for expelling whatever venom it has re- 
 ceived, and to be invigorated with fresh strength for obtain- 
 ing the victory. Sanctify the thought by your frequent re- 
 tirement to God for aid iu the war- strife in which you may 
 be engaged with sin in its various forms around you, and its 
 most subtle insinuations in your own breast."*" Fear not 
 then to be seen with your Bible and other good books. Let 
 your piety be neither ostentatiously obtrudeH, nor timidly 
 concealed. At first it would be well to say little about it to 
 others, till you have gained their confidence and affection. 
 Let there be no bustling and officious zeal — no attempt to 
 take the ship's company by storm — nothing like parading 
 your religion and proclaiming your intention to convert all oa 
 board. This will defeat your purpose by raising up resist- 
 ance. Your light must shine before your fellow-passengers, 
 by your good works, and your religion must be seen in all its 
 loveliness and consistency before it is heard. Be known as 
 the humble, meek, and gentle follower of the Lamb, the 
 friend of every one, the enemy of none. If you can find 
 men of like mind on board, cultivate their acquaintance, and 
 live in sweet fellowship with them. If they have their pe- 
 culiarities, as probably they will have, bear with them in 
 love. Let there be the best understanding between you and 
 
 * " The Christian Emigrant," by Dr. Leifchild. A little volume 
 of which I earnestly advise every emigrant to possess himself. It is 
 a beautiful combination of general knowledge and piety. 
 12 
 
204 THE YOUiNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 them ; for the quarrels, or even the coolness, of professing 
 Christians will do immense harm. 
 
 Take especial care that your conduct be uniformly consis- 
 tent. When it is known, and known it ought to be, that 
 your are a religious man, you will be watched by the malig- 
 nant eyes of those who wait for your halting ; and whose 
 ingenuity will be taxed to lay snares for your feet. One 
 step will destroy all your influence, by defacing the .beauty 
 and impairing the strength of your example, and will subject 
 not only yourself, but all religion, to the suspicion of hy- 
 pocrisy. 
 
 Acting in this blameless and harmless manner, you may 
 hope to be the means of doing good to some of your fellow- 
 emigrants. You may discover some pensive and sorrow- 
 stricken heart, prepared by deep sorrow to receive the conso- 
 lations of the gospel. Or you may find some prodigal already 
 beginning to ponder with remorse on his wanderings, in 
 whose relenting heart you may fasten conviction, penitence, 
 and faith. You may be honored of God thus to " convert 
 a sinner from the error of his ways — to save a soul from 
 death — and hide a multitude of sins." 
 
 Should you escape the moral dangers of the voyage, and 
 land upon the distant shore unharmed in soul, you must not 
 consider that all, or even the greatest, perils are over. There 
 still remain all the trials to which you will be exposed in 
 the struggle to be carried on for establishing yourself in the 
 colony. Many have escaped the shipwreck of the sea, only 
 to incur the more fearful one not only of their fortune, but 
 of their character. Professors who have stood well at home, 
 have miserably failed abroad. In the eager strife which you 
 will, perhaps, carry on for success in your new locality, 
 where so many are striving with you and like you, there is a 
 
•EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 205 
 
 fear lest the ardor of religious affection should be quenched 
 in a flood of earthly-mindedness ; and lest the sternness of 
 religious principle should be subdued by the love, and the 
 prospect of Mammon's pelf. It has been said, with what 
 truth I will not take upon me to determine, that the princi- 
 ples of a very lax morality enter deeply into the trade of 
 some of our colonies ; and that many professing Christiana 
 are carried away by the stream of commercial dishonor. 
 Doubtless many have therefore damaged their characters, 
 however they may have improved their circumstances. " The 
 transplanted tree may exhibit as flourishing a foliage in the 
 new soil where it is fixed ; but if its fruit become dwarfed, 
 insipid, and tasteless, the change is one that will ever have to 
 be deplored. Let your piety, on the contrary, take a deeper 
 root, and strike out wider its fruit-bearing branches in the 
 locality where you may be destined to spend the remainder 
 of your days." 
 
 A Christian ought to be anxious to promote the moral 
 and spiritual well-being of the colony to which he emigrates. 
 The best way to preserve his own religion is to keep it in 
 action. Still water, as we have already remarked in a for 
 mer sermon, breeds filth and vermin, but the running stream 
 is clear and pure. Neither our soul's health, nor our body's, 
 can be preserved without exercise. But there is another 
 reason, my young friends, which I press upon your attention, 
 as an additional reason why you should be active in diffusing 
 religion where you go, and that is the future destiny of the 
 colonies. What is a colony ? Now, indeed, the collection 
 from various parts of the earth of a comparatively few adven- 
 turers settling down upon the coast with a view to retrieve 
 their fortunes or their characters, or to start in life with 
 advantages there which they could not command at home j 
 
260 THE YOUNG man's friend. 
 
 but what will it be a century or two hence ? It is now an 
 infant kingdom — an empire in boyhood — of which the full- 
 grown man may be a rival of the land that gave it existence. 
 A little more than two centuries ago, a few outcasts and 
 fugitives from this country, who had fled from the demon of 
 persecution, landed from the " May-flower," on a bare and 
 barren rock on the northern coast of America. The coun- 
 try all around was bleak, desolate, and wild, and inhabited 
 only by tribes of Indians. There was a colony. What is it 
 now ? The greatest, the strongest, the most flourishing 
 republic ever founded upon earth — a republic which is 
 already a rival in trade of the Father-land, and which has 
 more than once been engaged with it in successful war. It 
 is thought by some that this land has passed the zenith of 
 its glory, and that a long decay is destined to precede the 
 fall of the British Empire ; that its population will then 
 remain stationary or recede — its courage abate — its wealth 
 diminish — and its ascendancy disappear ; till at length the 
 Queen of the waves will sink into an eternal, though not 
 forgotten slumber. And the question has been asked, 
 whether at some future period in our world's history and 
 amidst the changes which take place in its affairs, some 
 traveller from New Zealand or Australia may not sit down 
 upon a broken arch of London bridge to depict the ruins of 
 Sf, Paul's Cathedral ; or place himself where he shall deline- 
 ate " the towers oPYork Minster, rising in dark magnificence 
 amid an aged forest ; or go and trace the red deer sporting 
 in savage independence round the Athenian pillars of the 
 Scottish metropolis." All this is not very probable, but if it 
 should be in the decrees of heaven and the destinies of earth, 
 let it be your care who go as Christian emigrants to these 
 future kingdoms which are to be exalted in majesty over the 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOREIGN LAND. 2G7 
 
 ruins of their parent country, that thej shall be so educated 
 in their infancy as to rise up Christian empires in their man- 
 hood. Go out with the holy and noble ambition of carrying 
 on the work of evangelization, civilization, and refinement. 
 Be the patriots of your new country : and have your names 
 enrolled among those to whom future generations shall look 
 back with gratitude and respect. Carry out the principles 
 of civil and religious liberty, and never forget that as you 
 are joining with others in laying the foundations of empire, 
 it should be done with care and skill, so as they shall bear a 
 superstructure in which God shall dwell with man upon the 
 earth. It is a high and holy object of ambition which is 
 thus presented to you. Seize the conception in all its gran- 
 deur and extent, and let not even the modesty and humility 
 which are the natural result, and should be the accompani- 
 ments of your comparatively humble circumstances in life, 
 dispossess you of it — that you are assisting in constructing 
 the basis of future nations. Even the day-laborers who 
 worked at the foundations of the Pyramids had a share in 
 raising a fabric which has been the admiration of all ages, 
 and will probably last till the end of time. So the humblest 
 emigrant that lands on the shore of Australia, if he be a man 
 of piety, virtue, and active benevolence, is doing something 
 towards the wealth, the power, and the moral glory of the 
 future kingdom that may rise on that now comparatively 
 unpeopled wilderness. 
 
 In connection with all this, and indeed for it5 realization, 
 it is necessary you should attend to some other things. I 
 refer you to the last sermon for what you will need as a man 
 of business, and what is essential to your success. The 
 knowledge, industry, economy, system, r.cd perseverance, 
 there recommended, necessary for all, are pre-eminently for 
 
2G8 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 you. Without determining to act thus, there is not the 
 remotest hope of your success. If you expect to do without 
 these in a foreign land, you are mistaken. Give up at once 
 all notion that less qualification for success is necessary in 
 the colonies than at home. The earth does not bring forth 
 her fruits spontaneously, there even in a virgin soil, any more 
 than here. The ground is cursed for man's sake all over the 
 globe : and to earn your bread by the sweat of your brow is 
 the condition of your existence in Australia and New Zea- 
 land, as well as in England. 
 
 You must make up your mind to hardships^ unknown 
 at home. He that expects to carry to a new settlement, at 
 least in some parts of the world, all the luxuries or even 
 comforts he may command here, and who is not prepared to 
 endure much self-denial, had better remain where he is. It 
 is true in the towns already formed in some of the colonies, 
 most of the usual comforts of life may be commanded, as well 
 as in this country ; but an emigrant cannot always choose 
 his abode, and may be called to go beyond the circle of a 
 living population to construct his own dwelling, to make his 
 own furniture, to cook his own meal ; and you are to con- 
 sider well whether this will suit you, or you it. A spirit of 
 adventure, where this exists, a buoyancy of spirits, a love of 
 enterprise and a hope of success, will carry a man through 
 all these difficulties — but have you these qualifications .? 
 
 Guard against a reckless spirit of speculation. Do not 
 make haste to be rich. This is one of the dangers of colo- 
 nial life — dangerous alike to moral principle and to com- 
 mercial prosperity. There is great room for it abroad, and 
 many temptations to it. It has made a few, but it has 
 ruined many. Some have endeavored to leap the chasm 
 or ford the river, without patiently going round by the 
 
 i 
 
EMIGKATIXG TO A FORETOX LAND. 269 
 
 bridge, and have succeeded ; while others in making the 
 Bame attempt have been dashed to pieces or drowned. Spe- 
 culation is a game at hazard. Do not play it. One throw 
 of the die may win a fortune, but the next may lose it. Bo 
 contented to plod on slowly, but certainly. What is gained 
 by patient industry usually wears better and lasts longer 
 than that which "is won in a lottery. 
 
 Especially watch against a loant of commercial 'principle. 
 In the fierce conflict for success in a young settlement, this is 
 one of the dangers to which all who enter into it are exposed. 
 Go out determined to follow the whatsoever things are true, 
 honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report. Make up your 
 mind to the truth of God's holy Word, that, " Better is the 
 little that a righteous man hath, than the riches of many 
 wicked." Failure is to be infinitely preferred, when it comes 
 with a good conscience, than success procured by iniquity. 
 As a general principle it will be found true that honesty is 
 
 THE BEST POLICY. -" 
 
 Keep lop a correspondence with your native country^ espe- 
 cially if you have left friends in it who take an interest in 
 your welfare. There is something immoral and unchristian 
 in its tendency, is a disposition to forget the home and the 
 friends of your childhood, besides something positively cruel 
 in keeping parents, or brothers and sisters, ignorant of your 
 circumstances. This is sometimes not sufficiently thought of 
 by those who leave their country. The soil in which early 
 and home affections all wither and die, cannot be favorable 
 to the growth of piety ; it is cold and stony. 
 
 Be very cautious about choosing your companions. Cha- 
 racters of all varieties, and many of them of the worst 
 kind, are to be found in the colonies. How many are ohligea 
 to emigrate and find a shelter in those distant retreats from 
 
270 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 the finger of scorn, the tongue of reproach, and in some 
 cases, the visitations of justice — men who go out unreclaimed, 
 and who carry all their bad principles and evil dispositions 
 with them. Many of these are clever, specious, and plau- 
 sible — but they carry the serpent's cunning and venom undei 
 the variegated colors of his skin. Never give your company, 
 or your ear, or your hand, or your confidence, to any one, till 
 you have proved he is worthy of them. A stranger in a 
 strange land, you will feel your loneliness, and in your craving 
 after social intercourse will be in danger of falling into the 
 snares of those who lie in wait to deceive. One of the 
 members of my church who carried out with him a consider- 
 able sum of money, gave his confidence, and with it a con- 
 siderable portion of his property, to one who professed for 
 him great friendship ; and but for a most determined process 
 would have lost it. Men prowling about society to pre;y 
 upon the unwary are to be found everywhere, and they are 
 not wanting in the colonies. 
 
 And now in conclusion, let me direct your attention U 
 what the apostle has said of the holy patriarchs of Canaan, 
 " These all died in faith, not having received the promises, 
 but having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them 
 and embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers 
 and pilgrims on the earth. For they that say such things 
 declare plainly that they seek a country. And truly, if they 
 had been mindful of that country from whence they came 
 out, they might have had opportunity to have returned. But 
 now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly : where- 
 fore God is not ashamed to be called their God ; for he hath 
 prepared for them a city." Hebrews xi. 13-16. Be this the 
 view you take of your earthly sojourn — as a pilgrimage to 
 the skies ; and this the spirit you cherish in reference to it. 
 
EMIGRATING TO A FOKEIGN LAND. 271 
 
 Your circumstances forcibly remind you of it. By faith in 
 God's blessed Word look up to that better country which is 
 above and beyond the boundaries of earth and time : the 
 land of the holy, the good, and the blessed — where there is 
 no more sin — and there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, 
 nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain, for the for- 
 mer things are passed away — where the fears, the anxieties, 
 and the labors of this world have no place, and the turmoil 
 of life, and the strifes of business are unknown — where the 
 wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest — 
 where temptation will be over, and conflict will cease. Bless- 
 ed country ! Be it your chief solicitude to emigrate to that 
 joyful and glorious laud. From this world you must depart. 
 No choice is left you here. And the hour of departure draws 
 on ; but whether it will be in youth, in manhood, or old age, 
 is known only to God. Shall there be no preparation for 
 that voyage and settlement } How much are your thoughts 
 now occupied about the new country to which you are going, 
 and how anxiously busy are you in preparing for the voyage 
 and your future residence — What ? and less thoughtfulness 
 — less preparation — less anxiety be given to the emigration 
 to eternity ? You have exercised much thought in choosing 
 the colony where you mean to settle for life. There are 
 but two places of settlement beyond the grave — heaven and 
 hell — between these lies your choice — to one or other you 
 must soon depart — which will you choose ? Which ? 
 
 12^ 
 
THE YOUNG MAN DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING 
 THE HOPES OF HIS PARENTS. 
 
 " And Lamech lived an hundred eighty and two years, and begat a 
 son : And he called his name Noah, saying, This same shall comfort 
 us concerning our work and toil of our hands." Genesis, v. 28-9. 
 
 "And the king was much moved, and went up to the chamber 
 over the gate and wept : and as he went, thus he said, O my son 
 Absalom, my son, my son Absalom ! would God I had died for thee, 
 O Absalom, my son, my son !" 2 Samuel xviii. 33. 
 
 When Lamech, one of the few antediluvians mentioned in 
 this chapter, selected a name for his son, he determined to 
 call him Noah, which signifies " rest ;" for he said, this same 
 shall comfort us concerning our labor. The history of 
 Lamech is involved in deep and impenetrable obscurity, 
 which no criticism or conjecture can remove or illumine. 
 You are not to confound the Lamech here spoken of with 
 the one mentioned in the preceding chapter. That was a 
 descendant of Cain ; this of Seth. Still one should suppose 
 that in the selection of the name of his son, he was guided 
 by a reference to some circumstances of disquiet and dis- 
 comfort connected with his own life, of which no mention is 
 made in the sacred Scriptures. Whether this selection of 
 the name o f his son was the result of a prophetic inspiration. 
 
 I 
 
DTSArPOIXTIXG Oil REALISING THE IIOrES OF PARENTS. 273 
 
 or merely of parental solicitude and hope, we cannot tell 
 The event, however, justified the selection. The life of 
 Noah answered to his name. "With his early history the 
 Author of revelation has left us almost entirely unacquainted. 
 All that is said of him before he is introduced to us as the 
 preserver of the seed of a new world's population, is, that 
 " Noah walked with God, and was perfect in his generation." 
 In the midst of a corrupted age he dared to be singular, and 
 was not ashamed or afraid to avow his piety amidst the scoffs 
 of the impious. For five centuries his parents lived to 
 witness his holy conduct, and his high calling to be the 
 preacher of righteousness, and the preserver of the human 
 race from utter destruction. What a lengthened period of 
 parental enjoyment.* 
 
 A melancholy contrast is presented to all this, in the his- 
 tory of Absalom. His name signifies, " the father's peace." 
 Alas, alas, what a contradiction was there between his his- 
 tory and his name. He was evidently his father's favorite 
 son. We discern and condemn the weakness of David, 
 
 * We are not permitted to know all the divine reasons for the 
 extreme longevity of the Patriarchs of the Antediluvian world. It 
 was not merely for peopling the earth more rapidly, but also for pre- 
 serving uncorrupted, by oral tradition, the original revelation made to 
 our first parents in Paradise. At that time in all probability, alpha- 
 betic writing was unknown ; and it was therefore important that the 
 transmission of ihe account of creation ; the origin of the human race ; 
 the first prophecy concerning the seed of woman ; and the divine insti- 
 tution of sacrifices, should pass through as few hands as possible. 
 There may have been other reasons for this extraordinary length of 
 human life before the flood, with which we are not acquainted. This 
 is one of the many things of revelation, which we must take upon its 
 own well-accredited testimony, without making our own experience 
 or observation the standard by which to +ry them, or a reason for 
 rejecting them. 
 
2*74 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 whose partiality was in all probability called forth by an 
 unworthy motive, the extraordinary beauty of Absalom. 
 He gave him a name expressive of his fondest wishes and 
 affections. He watched, with more than ordinary interest 
 and regard, the development of his beautiful form — the 
 increasing attractions of his winning and fascinating manners 
 — the nobleness of his bearing — and the displays of his 
 genius. Even Solomon was at that time little thought of 
 compared with Absalom. In this favorite David's hopes at 
 one time centred more than in all his other children. But 
 this bright blossom of parental hope soon discovered signs of 
 mildew and of blight, and the sequel exhibits another 
 instance and proof of the effects of injudicious and mis- 
 directed partiality. With Absalom's personal beauty, which 
 perhaps had made him proud, vain, and profligate, was 
 associated a most vicious character, that wrung the father's 
 heart with anguish. He manifested one enormity after 
 another, till his misconduct rose to its climax in crime, by 
 rebellion and intentional parricide, and led its guilty subject 
 to an untimely end. What a bitter and cruel disappoint- 
 ment of parental hopes was here ! The darling, the beau- 
 tiful Absalom proved a libertine — a murderer — a rebel : 
 which, notwithstanding all his father's lingering affection 
 and fond precaution, brought him down to the grave in 
 infamy and blood. Instead of his remains reposing in that 
 splendid mausoleum which his vanity had constructed, and 
 by which he ambitiously hoped to send forward his renown 
 through future generations, they were buried under a heap 
 of stones, with no funeral obsequies to do honor to his name 
 and rank, and no inscription to perpetuate his memory. 
 How much does it take to wear out a father's love and to 
 quench his partiality for a favorite child ! No sooner were the 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF BARENTS. 2*75 
 
 tidings announced that Absalom was dead, than all his crimes 
 were forgotten, and the poor afflicted father rushed into his 
 chamber, and in one of the most simple and pathetic lamenta- 
 tions which grief ever dictated, or language ever expressed, 
 he uttered these moving words, " my son Absalom, my 
 son, my son Absalom ! would Grod I had died for thee, O 
 Absalom, my son, my son!" With these two cases, as an 
 historical introduction, I enter upon the consideration of my 
 subject : " The Young Man disappointing or realising ike 
 hopes of his Parents. 
 
 I shall reverse the order of the texts, and dwell first 
 upon the conduct of him who defeats the expectations which 
 have been indulged by those who were the instruments of 
 his being. 
 
 Parental hopes are usually strong. The words of our 
 Lord are according to nature, " A woman when she is in tra- 
 vail hath sorrow, because her hour is come ; but as soon as 
 she is delivered of the child, she remembereth no more her 
 anguish, for joy that a man is born into the world." Who 
 but a mother can tell the feelings of that moment when her 
 new-born babe is first laid in her bosom ; and who but a 
 father can know the emotions which are excited when he sees 
 for the first time his own image reflected from the counte- 
 nance of that little unconscious creature, whose infant cry 
 as he takes him in his arms, seems to say in inarticulate 
 language, " My Father !" From that moment parental hopes 
 begin. The child brings them with him into the world. 
 How fondly the parents watch their treasure as he is dandled 
 in a mother's lap, or sleeps in the cradle. How oft they 
 muse together over his future destinies, saying to each other, 
 '' What manner of child shall this he ?" As the babe 
 grows to a child — the child to a youth — the youth to man- 
 
276 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 hood, what expectations are raised, what conjectures aro 
 forme i — what prognostications are uttered. The mother 
 hopes her son will be her comfort, and the father his help, 
 and both together their boast. As his faculties develop 
 they see, or think they see — -and the fond illusion can be for- 
 given them — the marks of genius and the traits of excellence. 
 Freaks of childish passion, instances of waywardness of 
 temper, and not unfrequent acts of disobedience, which to 
 others hold out painful portents, are either unnoticed, or do 
 not disturb the pleasing vision, nor lower the expectations of 
 future excellence, if not of eminence. Hope is predominant 
 in the parent's heart — all children, he says, have their follies 
 and fiiults, and his not more than others. He sends them to 
 school, where he trusts they will improve their minds and 
 prepare for future life : apprentices them to some trade or 
 profession by which he expects they will do well in the world : 
 he starts them in business, and thus enables them to provide 
 for themselves and a family. How many hours of his pri- 
 vate conversation have been spent with his wife over this son 
 of theirs. What pictures have been drawn of his future 
 career. Surely such talents — so cultivated, and with such 
 advantages, must succeed. Under the burdens of life, and 
 the cares and labors which their family brings upon them, 
 they look forward during the infancy of their children, to 
 future years, anticipating the pleasures to arise from the 
 obedience, gratitude, and usefulness of those who they think 
 will be the prop of their old age, and the supporters of each 
 other when they are gone to their rest. Pleasing reflections ! 
 Joyful anticipations ! And in many cases, vain illusions ! 
 How wisely is it ordered that man should not be able to lift 
 up the veil of futurity and foresee the history of himself and 
 of his children. It is enough to know the ills of life as thoj 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 277 
 
 arise, without contemplating them in the distance. "What a 
 misery to have all these hopes end in bitter disappointment, 
 and become like beautiful blossoms cut off by a nipping froet. 
 And what is it that will frustrate the hopes of parents ? I 
 speak not now of that disappointment which is occasioned 
 by the dispensations of Providence, in the early death of 
 children. This often comes, but how many are there who, 
 under a bitterer disappointment still, live to wish their chil- 
 dren had died in infancy. How many who amidst the sins 
 and follies of the after-years of their children's lives, have 
 mourned with grief of heart, and exclaimed, " Oh, that my 
 son had died from the womb, and that the cradle had 
 become his coffin, rather than that he should have lived to 
 distress and dishonor me as he has done." 
 
 But what is it that will disappoint parental hopes .-* 
 Uudutifulness^ and want of affection^ will do this. 
 Parents have a right granted by nature, confirmed by reason, 
 and enjoined by Scripture, to the obedience, honor, grati- 
 tude, and love of their children. They look for their due, 
 and expect everything from their offspring that can thus con- 
 duce to their comfort. To receive rudeness instead of re- 
 spect — disobedience instead of submission — contempt instead 
 of esteem — and cold indifference or manifest dislike, or cruel 
 unkindness, instead of affection and gratitude : how cutting 
 is all this ! Well did Solomon say, " A foolish son is a grief 
 to his father, and a bitterness to her that bore him." " Oh, 
 how often," do they say together, " has our authority been 
 affronted and our love slighted for a mere trifle. We expect- 
 ed better things, and naturally supposed that so much love 
 as we have lavished upon him would have brought us back 
 some love in return. Is this the reward of all our study and 
 
2*78 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 efforts to make him happy and do him good ? Oh, who can 
 tell, 
 
 " How sharper than a serpent's tooth it is 
 To have a thankless child." 
 
 I believe that a deep filial reverence is often the basis of that 
 higher principle — the fear of God ; and that on the contrary, 
 a manifest want of good disposition and good conduct to- 
 wards parents, must ever be attended with, or lead to, irre- 
 ligion, and many other criminal states of mind and conduct. 
 Indolence^ a want of application, and carelessness about 
 genei'al improvement, must, of course, produce the disappoint- 
 ment! now speak of. After the best school has been selected 
 for education, and also a suitable situation for acquiring a 
 knowledge of business ; when of course improvement in gen- 
 eral knowledge, and especially in the knowledge of secular 
 matters, is naturallly looked for, then to see nothing but in- 
 dolence, ignorance, and stupidity — money, time, exhortation, 
 all wasted ; the youth going forth into the world ill-informed, 
 unskilled in matters of trade, unfit for any situation of impor- 
 tance as a servant, and equally unfit to manage a business as 
 a master ! How mortifying, how disappointing, is all this to 
 a father ! How distressing to find all bis schemes thwarted ; 
 all his anticipations frustrated ; and while other young men 
 are making their way in life, to see his son neither able nor 
 willing to do anything for himself ! He may not be vicious 
 — but he is idle, which is next to actual crime, and generally 
 leads to it. 
 
 Versatility of disposition is another defect of parental 
 hopes, wherever it exists. It was very wise counsel which 
 Solomon gave, where he says, "Meddle not with them that 
 are given to change." To change, when it is from bad to 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 279 
 
 good, is always right ; and it is a part of wisdom to know 
 when and how to change for the better. This is a diflferent 
 thing from being " given to change." I repeat what I said 
 in the last sermon, that there is nothing against which a 
 young man ought more assiduously to guard than versatility 
 of disposition. There is as much truth as beauty in the 
 proverb, " A rolling stone gathers no moss." Reuben's 
 character should be a beacon to all young men, " Unstable 
 as water, thou shalt not excel.'^^ The man who tries many 
 things, without abiding by anything, is absolutely certain to 
 do nothing. A tree may sometimes be better for one removal, 
 but it can never flourish under a frequent transplanting. 
 How annoying is it to a father to find that he has scarcely 
 introduced a son into a good situation ere the youth grows 
 tired of it and leaves it, and comes back again a dead weight 
 upon his father's hands, till tired out with his perpetual 
 changes, the good man is compelled to throw him upon his 
 own resources, when he generally comes to ruin.* 
 
 * There is a very lamentable instance of the disappointment of paren- 
 tal hopes, occasioned by an unsettled and roving disposition, recorded 
 in the memoir of that distinguished theologian, the late Andrew Ful- 
 ler. His eldest boy was a youth answering to this character. His 
 father obtained for him a situation in London. He at one time thought 
 of the work of the ministry, and was then of course, a moral, and ap- 
 parently religious young man. His father, however, soon recorded 
 this remark in his diary : •' Alas, alas, I have seen that in the conduct 
 of my poor boy which has almost broken my heart, whose instability 
 is continually appearing. He must leave London, and what to do with 
 him T know not." Another situation was procured in his native town, 
 but his restless disposition soon discovered itself, and he enJisted into 
 the army. In a little time, being understood to be an apprentice, he 
 was discharged. Another situation was found for him, but in vain ; 
 for he enlisted a second time, then into the marines. His father in 
 compliance with his wishes procured his liberation ; and in about 9 
 
280 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 Failure in Business, however it occurs, must of necessity 
 prove a very painful disappointment to parental hopes. 
 When a father has started his son in business, and advanced 
 capital for that purpose, and had expected to see him pros- 
 month he left his new place and his friends. Perceiving there was no 
 hope of his settling to business, his sorrowing parent procured him a 
 situation in a merchant ship ; but being on shore one Lord's day, before 
 he joined the ship, he was laid hold of by the press-gang and was car- 
 ried to sea. It was soon reported that the poor boy had been guilty 
 of some misdemeanor ; had been tried, and sentenced to receive three 
 hundred lashes ; that he received them, and immediately expired. 
 Under this trial Mr. F. thus wrote to a friend : " Oh : this is heart's 
 trouble ! In former cases my heart found vent in tears ; but now I can 
 seldom weep. A kind of morbid heart-sickness preys upon me from 
 day today. Every object round me reminds me of him ! Ah, he was 
 wicked and mine eye was not over him to prevent it, — he was detect- 
 ed, tried, and condemned, and I knew it not — he cried under his agonies ; 
 but 1 heard him not; — he expired without an eye to pity or a hand to 
 help him. Oh, Absalom, my son, my son ! would I had died for thee, 
 my son !" 
 
 The report however was incorrect, yet some time afterwards he de- 
 serted, and suffered so severe a punishment as to be totally unfitted for 
 servicje, by the effect it had upon his health. He was again discharged. 
 He in some measure recovered his health, and a situation was about 
 to be provided for him ; but he again absconded, entered a second time 
 into the marines, went to sea, and his friends never again saw him. 
 He died off Lisbon after a lingering illness : and there is some reason 
 to hope, confessing and lamenting the error of his ways. 
 
 ''This narrative," remarks Mr. Fuller's biographer, " contains many 
 things painful to surviving friends, which they would gladly have 
 buried in oblivion, and which I would never have inserted had they ab- 
 solutely forbidden me. But the strongroom there seems to be to hope 
 that so affecting an account may be, under the Divine blessing, the 
 means of reclaiming some unhappy youth under similar circumstances, 
 or of deterring others from rending a parent's heart with anguish, and 
 involving themselves in misery, has induced them to yield to my wish 
 ils not being suppressed." 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 281 
 
 per, it must be a source of very great distress to find that ali 
 his efforts to serve him are abortive. Where this is the effect 
 of causes over which even industry and ability could have 
 control ; which involve no blame ; and which therefore must 
 be resolved into the dispensations of Providence, there is 
 not the aggravation of sorrow which is produced by incapa- 
 city, indolence, or extravagance. In the former case a judi- 
 cious and kind father will comfort his unfortunate son, and 
 cheer him onward, by sympathy and promises of assistance, 
 ])iake other efforts. It is of course a trial, a heavy oiae : 
 but how much heavier when it is the result of misconduct. 
 When this has led to the sad result, how bitter is the cup of 
 parental sorrow ! For a father to occupy the dreadful post 
 of observation, darker every hour, as he watches the down- 
 ward progress of a son negligent of his business, and giving 
 himself up to habits which must end in his ruin ! Oh, misera- 
 ble son, and miserable parent. He who should, and might, 
 have been a flourishing tradesman, becomes a bankrupt, and 
 instead of rising to respectability, sinks to indigence and coa- 
 tempt. How many fond anticipations are terminated — how 
 many bright visions are dispelled — how many joyous expec- 
 tations are prostrated by that wreck ! And as the hopes of 
 past times are defeated — none for the future can be indulged. 
 Had it been the result of misfortune, the son might have 
 recovered himself; but as the ruin came by misconduct, what 
 ground, for hope is left to the disconsolate father ? 
 
 Profligate conduct is the bitterest disappointment of 
 all. To see a young man who has perhaps been reli- 
 giously educated, and brought up in the fear of God, so 
 far forgetting the instructions, the prayers, and example of 
 his father, and the tears and affectionate entreaties of his 
 mother, as " to walk in the counsel of the ungodly — to stand 
 
282 
 
 in the way of sinners — and sit in the seat of the scornful :" 
 to see him forming bad associations — neglecting business — ■ 
 indulging his evil propensities — wandering off like the prodi- 
 gal into the paths of vice and profligacy, the slave of lust 
 and wine — how distressfully disappointing is all this ! Oh, 
 unhappy parents ! You who have been called to endure this 
 trial, and you only, can tell what this means ; and even you 
 can rather know than tell it. " Oh," says the Christian 
 parent, " is it then come to this — all my solicitude, my prayers, 
 my tears, for my son, ending in his profligacy ! All my desires 
 and expectations that he would become a child of Grod, ter- 
 minated in his being a prodigal ! All my hopes of his being 
 a servant of Christ disappointed in my seeing him a slave of 
 Satan ! Oh, how carefully have I watched him — how dili- 
 gently have I instructed him — how earnestly have I prayed 
 for him — how anxiously have I waited for his yielding him- 
 self up to God and coming into the fellowship of his church. 
 And are all my prayers and tears as water spilt upon the 
 ground ? In all I have done for his conversion and salvation 
 have I been laboring in vain and spending my strength for 
 naught — yea worse than in vain : for every instruction, correc- 
 tion, and reproof, has aggravated his guilt here, and will in- 
 crease his misery hereafter ; so that while as to intention I 
 was acting the most kind and tender part, I was, as to result, 
 only treasuring up for my son wrath against the day of wrath. 
 Alas, alas : Woe is me. ^ my son, my son !' " 
 
 How tenfold more dreadful are these reflections if the 
 son has died in his sins ; a case by no means uncommon. 
 How painful are the father's fears that his child has fallen 
 into a state of everlasting ruin. " Oh," will the afflicted 
 parent say, " how comparatively light would be my sorrows, 
 if while lookmg on his breathless corpse, and mourning tha 
 
DISAPPOINTINa OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 283 
 
 disappointment of my hopes as to the present life, I could by 
 faith look forward to a world of glory, and see the branch of 
 my family which is cut off from earth, transplanted thither 
 and flourishing there. Joy would then mingle with my 
 parental sorrows and praises with my tears. But alas, I 
 have reason to fear that it was cut down that it might be 
 cast into everlasting burnings. On the former supposition I 
 might have comforted myself with the thought of meeting 
 my child again, and of meeting him on terms of infinite ad- 
 vantage, to be no more separated from him. But alas, now 
 I have lost my child, and lost him for ever. Nor is this all. 
 It would be mournful to me to think I should meet him no 
 more ; yet as the matter now stands, even that would be 
 some alleviation to my distress — but the immutable decrees 
 of God forbid it. I must meet him at the bar of God, and 
 0, what a dreadful interview will it be. Must I be a wit- 
 ness against him .? How terrible an office ! To bear my 
 testimony for the condemnation of one whom I tenderly 
 loved, of one whose soul I would have died to deliver. Oh, 
 that if no shelter must be allowed him, Grod would hide me 
 in the grave till this tremendous scene of His indignation be 
 overpast ; lest the anguish of a parent mingle with the joys 
 of a rising saint, and to me overcast the triumphs of the 
 day."* 
 
 This disappointment may, however, take place where none 
 of the former causes exist — there may be no profligacy — no 
 versatility — no indolence — nor want of cleverness in business ; 
 but on the other hand, there is the very opposite of all this. 
 Still there may be, as we have seen in a former sermon, 
 « defective amiability — the possession of all other good 
 
 ♦Doddridge's " Serrror. on the reflections of a Pious Parent ovex an 
 (Jngodly Son. 
 
284 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 things, yet the want of the one best thing — true religion. 
 To a really Christian parent, the want of this in his qhildren 
 is a severe trial — a heavy afliction. This is the chief object 
 of his desires, his prayers, his efforts, and his hopes. Till 
 they are savingly converted to God by his grace, and they are 
 brought to live a life of faith in God — in Christ — in heaven 
 — he is, and must be disappointed. He longed above all 
 things for their salvation, and hoped to see them members 
 of the church of Christ and useful in setting up his kingdom 
 in the world : and in the absence of this, though they should 
 gain wealth, rank, or fame, he is a disappointed father. He 
 cannot but rejoice and be thankful that his sons are not pro- 
 flio-ates — but as long as they are not true Christians, his chief 
 joy is not fulfilled. He looks upon their success, their re- 
 spectability, their worldly comfort — with the inward reflection, 
 "Ah, this is all very well, and I am truly thankful for it, 
 but it reaches no farther than the grave ; and what I have 
 coveted for them, prayed for, and sought, is, ' Grlory, honor, 
 immortality, and eternal life.' I wanted them to be united 
 with me by ties which would last for ever and make us one 
 in heaven as well as upon earth. Notwithstanding their 
 worldly prosperity, then, I am by their want of personal 
 religion a disappointed father." 
 
 This disappointment of parents in regard to their 
 children is aggravated by several circumstances that may 
 be glanced at. Where unusual care has been bestowed 
 upon their education, and it might have been expected 
 that a proportionate degree of excellence would have been 
 the result : — where considerable talents have been possess- 
 ed, and early indications of genius have exhibited them- 
 selves so as to awaken expectations : — where virtue at one 
 time began to bud, and piety to blossom : — where friends 
 
 J 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 285 
 
 congratulated the parents, and the parents felicitated them- 
 selves on the promising appearances of their children : — 
 whertt, in short, for awhile all seemed to hold out the most 
 auspicious omens, and justify the most favorable conclu- 
 sions : — oh, in such cases, to have all these hopeful begin- 
 nings terminate unhappily, and the anticipations raised upon 
 them disappointed ; how bitter, how painful, how overwhelm- 
 ingly cruel ! Think of a parent mourning over the wreck 
 of such hopes, and bewailing such a failure. 
 
 Young men, let me plead with you on behalf of your 
 parents. If they are here, and of course many of them are, 
 and hear me with hearts bleeding while I speak, oh, let 
 them be silent witnesses against you ; are there not some of 
 you who are thus disappointing every hope which they have 
 formed cuncerning you } Does not the reflection grieve and 
 shame you, and ought it not to overwhelm you ^ Let me 
 appeal to your sense of obligation. Ungrateful youths ! 
 Have you no idea of what you owe to them 1 Are these the 
 returns you make them for all their bounty, tenderness, and 
 care, to be a sword in their bowels and to pierce their very 
 hearts ? Did they expect such scenes as these when you 
 hung upon your mother's breast, reposed in her lap, and 
 grasped, in childish fear, her hand to protect you from dan- 
 ger : when you returned their smiles with your own, and 
 cried with your faint accents of endearment, " My father, 
 my mother ?" How can you endure the thought } How 
 without embarrassment can you converse with them, and still 
 daily receive unnumbered favors at their hands, when you 
 are behaving in a manner that looks as if the more they love 
 you, the more they must be afflicted and terrified by you : 
 Oh, that you would have compassion upon them ! Or if 
 that will not move you ; oh, that you would have compassion 
 
286 THE YOUNG man's friend. 
 
 on yourselves — for your own interest is much more nearly 
 concerned than even theirs. 
 
 It is not yet too late, even though till now you have pur- 
 sued this course of disappointment. There is time to repair 
 the mischief. Repentance and reformation will yet heal the 
 wounds which misconduct has inflicted, and the joy of re- 
 ceiving back the prodigal will almost compenisate for the 
 sufferings occasioned by his wanderings and his errors. Say 
 then, and say it at once, " I will arise and go to my father, 
 and say, ' Father, I have sinned against heaven and in thy 
 sight,' forgive and receive thy once sinning and ungrateful 
 but now penitent child." Such a confession, followed up 
 with fruits meet for repentance, will bind up hearts all but 
 irreparably broken, and will transfer you to the class I am 
 next to describe, when I speak — 
 
 Secondly. Of the young man realising the hopes of his 
 parents. And it will take very much to do thii. Much, to 
 reward a mother's pangs in child-birth ; her months of anx- 
 ious care by day, and often sleepless vigilance at night, all 
 which involuntarily prompted her to say " Surely I shall have 
 a rich reward one day for this." Much, that will be ac- 
 counted an adequate reward for a father's incessant toil to 
 provide for his family — his deep concern to select the best 
 school and the most suitable situation of business — his wake- 
 ful and ceaseless solicitude for the welfare of his sons. How 
 often when bearing the heat and burden of the day has he 
 wiped away " the sweat of his brow," and exclaimed with 
 the smile of hope, " Well, my boy will one day reward me 
 for all this. I am now sowing in hope to reap one day in 
 joy !" And there are sons who realise all these expecta- 
 tions. How ? 
 
 1. By their dutiful cotiduct. " There," said a father who 
 
 J 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 287 
 
 was once an inhabitant of this town, " is a son who never 
 gave his father's heart a pang." I knew the son while he 
 lived, till full of years, and Christian experience, and public 
 esteem, he no long time since ascended to glory, and left 
 behind him a name never to be repeated but with esteem. 
 Other sons of the same family had wrung their father's 
 heart with anguish, but he, by his uniform obedience, gene- 
 ral good conduct and amiable character, was nothing but a 
 delight to his parents. How sweet is it to a parent's heart to 
 see a child so tender of his comfort as to be ever studious to 
 avoid every thing that would for a moment distress, and to 
 do any thing which would yield the smallest pleasure. A 
 parent does expect, has a right to expect all this ; and how 
 ineffably sweet is it to his heart, to be able to say, " In all 
 that is dutiful, obedient, reverential, respectful and attentive, 
 my son is all a son should be or can be. He has equalled 
 all the ideas I had formed in my most sanguine moments of 
 filial excellence. My hopes are more than realised."* 
 
 2. High mental culture and attainments will do much to 
 realise parental hopes. The most affectionate and amiable 
 disposition, coupled with the most dutiful conduct, will not 
 answer parental expectation if at the same time there be a 
 
 * A beautiful memoir of that most saintly man and eminent clergy- 
 man, the late Mr. Bickersteth, has just appeared from the pen of his 
 son-in-law, Mr. Birks, and among the other virtues for which that 
 holy servant of Christ was distinguished, filial reverence sustained a 
 very high place. The ea^ly history of Mr. Bickersteth exhibits one 
 of the most lovely and striking exhibitions of this excellence, which I 
 have ever met with. One scarcely wonders at the eminence he at- 
 tained to as a Christian and a minister, when we read of his exqui- 
 sitely beautiful conduct as a son. I am persuaded that much of the 
 neglect of the fear of God by which so many of the young men of the 
 present day are notorious, may be traced to a defect of filial reverence. 
 13 
 
288 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 want of application to mental improvement and geit , t'al know- 
 ledge, and also a stolid ignorance, a deplorably low and 
 grovelling taste. In this extraordinary age, ev<yj man is 
 expected to fill up his place with credit to himsdf and ad- 
 vantage to others. Society never had stronger c!dims upon 
 young men than it has now. It is a high satisfaction to a 
 parent blessed with a promising son to be able to say, 
 " There is one who has repaid all the expense incurred by 
 his education. While at school, he received the rjiost honor- 
 able testimonials for diligence and acquisition. He scarcely 
 ever returned without a prize. He has assiduously improved* 
 himself since then, by reading and thinking, and low that he 
 is entering upon life, be is evidently qualified to take a high 
 standing for respectability and usefulness. He will not be 
 one of the multitude who are ciphers. I certainly feel some 
 glow of heartfelt delight, occasionally rising, unless, well 
 watched, into pride, as I see how he is acquitting himself 
 already, and is noticed by others ; and can predict the circle 
 in which he will move, and the sentiments and manner with 
 which he will be regarded." 
 
 Next to this come industry, cleverness^ and success in 
 business. For even the other two will not be sufficient to 
 satisfy parental desire. A son may be dutiful and intelli- 
 gent, but if there be not an aptness for trade, a habit of in- 
 dustry, and a preparation for conducting business with suc- 
 cess, there must be disappointment. Happy is the father 
 who sees in his son a constantly expanding germ of the dili- 
 gent and thriving tradesman. With what pleasure does ho 
 mark the indefatigable application — the growing skill — the 
 sharpe'ning sagacity — the increasing tact, of his boy, in refer- 
 ence to business. "Ah," says he with gratitude, " I see he 
 will make a good tradesman. He will make his way, and if 
 
 J 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 289 
 
 I am not mistaken, will rise in life. He will be somethino^." 
 The youth rises into the man, and having learnt his business 
 or profession, commences it, and displays as a master, tho 
 qualities he learnt and exhibited as an apprentice and a 
 shopman. Success crowns his efforts. He is a thriving 
 tradesman. His father follows him through his successful 
 career with secret delight. He is never afraid to visit his 
 son lest he should find him playing truant from his shop, 
 neglecting his business, with all things in confusion, and ruin 
 looking in at the window. It is always a pleasure to him to 
 go and see the beautiful order, the established system, the 
 well-formed habits, the crowded resort of a well conducted 
 business. How gratifying to hear from himself the report of 
 his continued success — of trade extending — capital accumu- 
 lating — and property gradually increasing. The father's 
 solicitude is over ; his son is thoroughly established and has 
 attained a degree of prosperity which at one time he could 
 never have looked for. How peaceful and pleasant are the 
 reflections of the parents of such a son in their private inter- 
 course ; *' We are happy on being released from the pressing 
 and painful anxieties of some families. Our dear son 
 is obviously doing well. We never had much fear of his 
 success ; his steadiness and ability forbade this ; but what 
 little anxiety we felt is all gone. Prosperity has begun to 
 dawn upon him, and promises to shine more and more. 
 We have have but one anxiety now, and that is that he may 
 settle well in marriage." This anxiety is natural and wise. 
 It is God's arrangement and intention that man should 
 marry, for he sees that it is not good for him to be alone. 
 It was not good in Paradise — it is not good now. It is not 
 good for his morals, his comfort, or his prosperity : and all 
 judicious parents have a wise solicitude that their children 
 
290 TUE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 should in proper time marry, and always marry suitably 
 Indiscreet and unsuitable marriages by children, are a source 
 of unutterable grief to parents. Hence the joy which is felt 
 when others of an opposite nature are contracted. 
 
 That anxiety, in the case I am supposing, is soon relieved. 
 The prudence and propriety that have characterised the 
 conduct of this good son in other things, do not forsake him 
 in this. He is cautious and wise : selects a woman who by 
 her sterling excellence, good sense, and amiable qualities, is 
 worthy of him. She is one of whom the wise man saith, 
 *' She looketh well to the ways of her household. The heart 
 of her husband doth safely trust her, so that he shall have 
 no need of spoil." The parents see with delight a prosper- 
 ous business, a rising family, a happy home, ♦ 
 
 But still we have not reached the summit of a good man's 
 wishes, for though all this is very pleasant, and to a worldly 
 man would be quite sufl&cient to realise his uttermost expect- 
 ation and fulfil his richest hopes, yet it is not so with the 
 Christian. He has learnt that, for himself, religion is the 
 " one thing needful," without which he neither attains to 
 true happiness on earth, nor answers the great end of exist- 
 ence, nor is meetened for the felicity of heaven : and what 
 he is supremely anxious for on his own account, he desires 
 above all things for his children It would be unnatural and 
 cruel if he did not. If religion be all important to him, it 
 can be no less so to them. Hence whatever else they may 
 gain, if they neglect this he is, as I have already said in the 
 other divisions of the sermon, and I now repeat by way of 
 emphasis, still sad at heart. 
 
 But I am now supposing a case in which the Christian 
 parent sees his deepest anxieties relieved, and his fondest 
 hopes realized, in the religious character of his sons. Aware 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 29^ 
 
 that they are exposed to greater temptations that his dauo^h 
 ters, and much more in danger of neglecting religion, he ia 
 proportionably thankful when they become decidedly pious. 
 The first symptoms of a serious attention to the momentous 
 concerns of eternity, awaken the liveliest emotions of delight, 
 not unmixed with solicitude, lest it should be only, as " the 
 morning cloud, or early dew, which passeth away." He 
 prays more intensely than ever, and watches more anxiously, 
 for decision of character, and shields the bud of hope by his 
 most assiduous care. As the bud expands into the blossom, 
 and the blossom sets in fruit, his hopes and fears alternate, 
 till at lenorth the doubtful case is decided, and his child 
 becomes first a Christian, and then a professor. TVhat a 
 load of parental anxiety is removed ! What an accession to- 
 parental delight is made ! If the youth has been away from 
 home, and the intelligence of his conversion is conveyed by 
 letter, the good man's heart is too full to hold, and weeping 
 over the welcome tidings, he hastens to his chamber to pour 
 out his gratitude to God, the author of this new rich mercy, 
 a mercy in his esteem far greater than the appointment of 
 his son to a lucrative and honorable situation, or his success 
 in some concern of business. And the gratitude of the father is 
 equalled, if not surpassed, by that of the mother. "What, my 
 son a true Christian ! My boy for whom I have suffered so 
 much deep and painful solicitude — who when he left home 
 wrung my heart with agonizing fears, because he was going 
 forth as a lamb among wolves — what — he become a sincerely 
 religious man, a child of God ! May I indeed believe the 
 blissful intelligence ! A happy woman am I now become, to 
 be the mother of one who shall glorify God and enjoy him 
 for ever. 
 
 The religion of this young man proves itself sincere, 
 
292 THE YOUNG man's FUTEXD. 
 
 consistent, and active. It preserves him from the snares to 
 which a youth away from home is ever exposed, and affords 
 another illustration of the declaration that " godliness is 
 profitable for all things, having the promise of the life that 
 now is, as well of as that which is to come." He connects 
 himself with the schemes of usefulness which are so nume- 
 rous in this day of Christian activity, and becomes a blessing 
 to the church and the world. His religion goes with him 
 into his future character, situation, and circumstances, as a 
 husband, a father, a master, and a tradesman. He is seen 
 habitually among the Christian philanthropists of the age, 
 uniting his influence and energies with theirs to bless his 
 species and glorify his God. His assistance is earnestly 
 sought, and willingly granted, to all that is going on for the 
 moral renovation of the world. By his prayers, his example, 
 his property, his intelligence, and his labors, he acts up to 
 the metaphorical description of the righteous, where our Lord 
 says to his disciples, " Ye are the light of the world ; ye are 
 the salt of the earth." His family are brought up in the 
 fear of the Lord, and are likely to be his imitators in all 
 good things, and thus hand forward religion as a heir-loom 
 to his descendants. 
 
 What a beautiful scene is this for Christian parents to 
 witness, if indeed, they are still alive to watch the growing 
 piety, prosperity, happiness, and usefulness of this their son. 
 How blissful are the feelings, how delightful the intercourse 
 of the happy couple as they sit and talk of this their beloved 
 and holy child. If he live dt home with them, how uninter- 
 ruptedly agreeable is their intercourse with him. They have 
 nothing to complain of or to reprove ; and he nothing to ex- 
 plain, defend, or excuse. They have common objects com- 
 mon sympathies, and common topics. Their spiritual tastes 
 
DISAPPOIXTIXG OR REALISING THE HOPES OE PARENTS. 293 
 
 their highest and most momentous pursuits and pleasures, 
 are alike. How it rejoices them to be the witnesses of his 
 pietj and activity, and to hear the testimonies of others to 
 his respectability, importance, and usefulness. How many 
 congratulations they receive on the character and conduct of 
 this their son. They see old age coming on upon them, but 
 here is the bright star in the evening sky of their life. Here 
 is no disappointment, but on the other hand, the fulfilment 
 of their brightest hopes. Here is the rich reward of all 
 their parental labor and anxieties — the abundant answer of 
 all their prayers. 
 
 Tt may be that these parents are called, according to tho 
 order of nature, to descend first to the tomb. During a lon^^ 
 decay, they are cheered and comforted, if their son \we at 
 home, with his presence, his prayers, and his conversation. 
 If he live away from home, they are refreshed by his letters, 
 and by his occasional visits. His conduct has planted no 
 thorns in their dying pillow, but has softened it till it is 
 rendered even downy. They feel that separation from such 
 a child is, indeed, to nature bitter and painful : but then hia 
 piety assures them they are not parting for ever. As he 
 comforts them by his holy suggestions and devout petitions, 
 they are ofttimes in a strait, like the apostle, desiring to 
 depart to be with Christ, and yet on the other hand, 
 desiring, for the sake of those they are leaving, to remain. 
 No painful but necessary warnings issue from their lips, 
 wringing their hearts with anguish, as they solemnly adjure 
 an ungodly son to forsake his ways. No bitter tears roll 
 down their cheeks as they grasp his hand and entreat him to 
 repent, and thus mitigate the sorrows of death, the only 
 sorrow they know. On the contrary, all are words of conso- 
 lation, expressions of gratitude, and efi'usions of joy, that 
 
294 THE YOUNG man's frtexd. 
 
 they shall soon meet again. They are ready to repeat the 
 words of Simeon, " Lord, now lettest thou thy servant 
 depart in peace, for mine eyes have seen thy salvation, not 
 only upon myself, hut upon my children also." Happy, 
 happy parents, and happy son. 
 
 But if on the other hand, this son after his father's own 
 heart should, by an inversion of the order of nature, he 
 called first to descend to the grave, with what different feel- 
 ings do his pious parents hang over his couch of sickness 
 and watch the progress of decay and the advance of death, 
 from those of parents who have to wait around the death- 
 bed of an ungodly son. True they are disappointed by his 
 early removal from our world. To see such a blossom, yea 
 fruit, of parental hope cut off, and sent to the grave, is 
 indeed a trial — oh, to lose such a son ! One so dutiful, so 
 good, so holy, so promising, so useful, to be carried off from 
 them, from the church, from the world ; — how mysterious an 
 event — how great a calamity. Yes, but then his deep sub- 
 mission — his strong faith — his joy unspeakable and peace 
 that passeth understanding — his holy converse — his words 
 of consolation to them — how tranquillising all this ! No 
 agonizing fears about his spiritual state distress their minds. 
 All is safe for eternity. He dies — but they can trace him 
 to the realms of glory. To lose such a son is of course a 
 severe trial of their faith and patience : but the recollections 
 of his past character and conduct — the soothing influence 
 of his dyincr testimony — the assurance of his heavenly bliss 
 — the anticipations of their final meeting and everlasting 
 association, reconcile them to the stroke, and enable them to 
 feel that after all this^ disappointment is inconceivably lighter 
 than that of many who are afflicted by the conduct of a 
 living profligate. In one case the affliction brings its own 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 295 
 
 comfort with it — but in the other it is unmixed wormwood 
 and gall. To the language of condolence which they receive 
 from sympathising friends, they are ready to give the answer 
 which the Duke of Ormond did in similar circumstances, *' I 
 would rather have my dead son than half the living sons of 
 all Christendom." 
 
 There have been cases where the realisation of parental 
 hopes has come after a season of protracted, anxious, and 
 even agonising fear and disappointment. The exquisitely 
 beautiful parable of the prodigal son, in its close as well as 
 in its beginning, has in a few instances, and perhaps but a 
 few, received its accomplishment in the children of the godly. 
 There have been youths whose erratic career of folly and sin 
 has half-broken a father's and a mother's heart, but whose 
 ultimate recovery came just in time to save them from being 
 entirely crushed. I heard of one young man of this descrip- 
 tion who, though the son o-f religious parents, and therefore 
 the child of many prayers and much instruction, had wan- 
 dered far, and wide, and long, from the path of piety and 
 morality. Through his dark and winding course he was 
 followed by a father's prayers and a mother's tears. Every 
 means which holy and agonising ingenuity could suggest, 
 had been tried to reclaim him, but in vain. To parental 
 remonsti-ance while under his father's roof he was deaf, and 
 to all letters sent to him in his distant vagrancies he was 
 insensible. As a last means of restoring him, after a long 
 suspension of intercourse, his father, who could ncjfc forget 
 his truant and wicked son, nor alienate his heart altogether 
 from him, called together in the vestry of the chapel where, 
 if I mistake not, he labored as a minister, a few friends to 
 pray for his penitence and restoration. After several had 
 poured out their hearts in fervent supplication, the father gavo 
 13* 
 
206 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 utterance to his own feelings, in a strain of most tender sup- 
 plication, which melted all present to tears. During thesa 
 exercises a poor wretched creature was seen wandering round 
 the window and listening at the door of the vestry ; and no 
 sooner had the prayer of the good man for his son ended, and 
 when the meeting was about to break up, than the listener, 
 who was indeed the subject of all these prayers, entered, 
 fell upon the neck of his father, and simply sobbed out, "0, 
 my father, forgive me." It is unnecessary I should describe 
 the scene that followed, you have it in the parable of the 
 prodigal son, — " Kejoice with me, for this my son was dead 
 and is alive again, he was lost and is found." He lived a 
 new life, and realised in the end, after long disappointing 
 them, the hopes of his parents. What an encouragement to 
 parents to continue instant in prayer. And what an encou- 
 ragement to prodigals to say, " I will arise and go unto my 
 father, and say. Father, I have sinned against heaven, and 
 in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son." 
 If any whose eye shall glance over these pages, shall be still 
 in the land of their wanderings, to them would I say, 
 " Return, return." It is not yet too late. You may still 
 realise the hopes of your parents. You may still repent, 
 reform, and lead a new life. The grace of God which 
 bringeth salvation may teach you to deny ungodliness and 
 worldly lusts, and to live soberly, righteously, and godly in 
 this evil world. You may be respectable, happy, and useful 
 even yet. Abandon despair. There is no need of it even 
 in your case. If returning prodigals are few, be you one of 
 the few. Let me recommend, earnestly recommend you to 
 read the fifteenth chapter of the gospel by Luke, which is 
 one of the most beautiful and touching portions of the whole 
 Bible. It is full of instruction, of tenderness, of encourage- 
 
DISAPPOINTING OR REALISING THE HOPES OF PARENTS. 297 
 
 nient ; and will, if you have not pressed out every spark of 
 feeling from your soul, melt your heart to compunction and 
 your eyes to tears. It describes your character, suits your 
 condition, represents your father's heart towards you, and 
 will perhaps by God's grace, recover you from your present 
 condition. Read it, read it till this blessed effect is produced. 
 Kead it with earnest prayer, that you may be indeed a 
 reclaimed, restored prodigal, and even yet bind up the heart 
 you have nearly broken, and not bring down a father's grey 
 hairs in sorrow to the grave. Or if your parents have gone 
 to the world where " the wicked cease from troubling and 
 the weary are at rest," and have perhaps been hurried to 
 their grave by your misconduct ; if they left our earth with 
 hearts broken by disappointed hopes, and breathed out their 
 last feelings for you, exclaiming, " O my son^ my son, must 
 we part for erg?-," if in this world there was no reward, by 
 your good conduct, of their prayers, their tears, their 
 example, and their labors — carry it to them, by your present 
 repentance and reformation, and by your thus following them 
 thither when you die. If nothing but disappointment was 
 felt by them here, let fruition be granted to them there. 
 Though they left you in your sinful wanderings when they 
 ascended to their glory, and feared they had lost you for 
 ever, let them by your forsaking your evil courses, find you 
 in Paradise. What a meeting will you then have in that 
 happy state ! How will it enhance even their heavenly 
 felicity, after having given up all hope of your salvation upon 
 earth, to have the assurance of your salvation by seeing you 
 in heaven. Richly will it reward them for all their sorrows 
 ajid anxiety, and infinitely more than compensate for all they 
 have endured on your account. 
 
 And now, young men, let me close this discourse by a few 
 
298 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 more words of affectionate yet earnest expostulation and per- 
 suasion. It is cruel under any circumstances to frustrate 
 wilfully and wantonly, by any part of our conduct, the hopes 
 of our fellow-creatures ; and the cruelty is in exact propor- 
 tion to the strength^ the propriety, and the justness of the 
 expectations which are so defeated. If persons who have 
 no right to expect anything from us, make us, out of mere 
 choice, the subject of foolish and unwarranted anticipations, 
 we have no great need to concern ourselves about the matter, 
 and any disappointment we may occasion is rather a punish- 
 ment for their own folly than a reproach upon ourselves. But 
 where by a kind of necessity we become to others the objects 
 of their well-founded and rational expectations — where these 
 expectations are by every consideration authorized, and are 
 very large — where the alternative of disappointment or frui- 
 tion must be followed with great happiness or misery — and 
 where it is in our own power to occasion one or the other of 
 these alternatives, it is most cruel wantonly to sport with 
 those hopes which are thus suspended upon our conduct 
 A generous and sensitive mind does not like to occasion dis- 
 appointment even to a dumb animal. Think, then, of the 
 hopes of parents in reference to their children. I appeal to 
 your generosity on their behalf. Have they not a right to 
 entertain hope concerning you } Does not the very relation- 
 ship give them this right } Fancy your mother thus ad- 
 dressing you, — " I am a mother, and have all a mother's 
 affections, anxieties, hopes, and rights. Next to God and 
 my husband, in whom should I hope so justly as in my child, 
 whom I have borne in my womb — nursed at my breast — 
 fondled in my arms ? FOr whom I have given the sleep of 
 countless nights, and the labor of countless days. Whom I 
 have taught to walk, to speak, to think, to act Whom J 
 
DISArPOINTING OR E£ALISING THE HOrES OF PARENTS. 299 
 
 have loved with a mother's love — watched around his couch 
 in sickness — wept when he wept, and smiled when he smiled 
 — heard his complaints, and soothed his sorrows — borne with 
 his waywardness, and gently reproved his faults. Whom as 
 an infant, a child, a youth, a man, I have anxiously cared for, 
 as I have watched with solicitude each successive develop- 
 ment. Whom I have prayed for, instructed, warned, en- 
 couraged. 0, my son, my son, had not thy mother a right 
 to hope that all this would be rewarded at some period when 
 it should be all understood ? I saw thy infant smiles as 
 thou turnedst thy eyes upon her that fed thee from her 
 bosom, and which seemed at that time silently to thank me 
 Tor thy sustenance. I heard thee call me thy ' dear mother,' 
 as thou madest thy first essays at articulate language. I 
 beheld thy opening talents and virtues, as they appeared to 
 be then, and interpreted them into signs of future excellence 
 - and had I not a right to hope for much at thy hands — and 
 wilt thou disappoint it all, and thus reward thy mother's 
 care .-' Shall hopes so early awakened — so fondly cherished 
 — so long sustained — so justly founded — that rose so high, 
 and anticipated so much, be all doomed, by thy misconduct, 
 to disappointment? 0, my son, my son." 
 
 And then your father too — think of him : that kind good 
 man, who when he first took you in his arms, felt the new 
 and strange emotions of that rapturous moment all kindle 
 into hope : as he looked upon your face and for the first time 
 cried, " My child." How did that hope grow with your 
 growth, and strengthen with your strength ; rising higher and 
 sinking deeper at every advanced stage of your life. His 
 hope of your future excellence was his prospective reward for 
 all the labor he sustained to support, to educate, and pro- 
 vide for you. Often as he wiped away the sweat of his brov- 
 
300 THE YOUNG MAN-S FRIESD. 
 
 amidst the heat and burden of the day, and began to think 
 his labors almost too severe — his hope of thy future good 
 conduct checked the rising feeling of hardship, and com- 
 pelled him to say, " It is for my wife and children and it is 
 my hope that they by their affection and general good con- 
 duct will one day make me as thankful that I endure all 
 this for them, as their mother already does." 
 
 Young men, have you generosity, gratitude, nobleness of 
 soul ? If so, let me ask you, what do such ties, such bene- 
 fits, such feelings, and such conduct deserve at your hands ? 
 Can you be insensible to such an appeal ? One should 
 imagine it would be your study and delight to acknowledge 
 and discharge, in the most effectual and satisfactory manner* 
 obligations which you were contracting before you had the 
 ability to understand and appreciate them ; and which from 
 that time to the present have never ceased to accumulate. 
 Above all beings on earth your parents have the largest 
 claims upon your consideration, and though there are higher 
 motives to the cultivation of all moral excellence, than even 
 a regard to their happiness, yet this ought never to be left 
 out of view, and never will be by any generous, dutiful, and 
 affectionate son 
 
THE YOUNG MAN IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORT 
 ANCE OF THE AGE IN WHICH HE LIVES. 
 
 " And of the children of Issachar which were men that had under- 
 standing of the times, to know what Israel ought to do." 
 
 1 Chronicles xii. 32. 
 " Can ye not discern the signs of the times ?" 
 
 Matthkw xvi. 3. 
 
 In the first of these passages, the Israelites who were of 
 the tribe of Issachar, in the time of David, received a high 
 encomium for understanding the times, and their know- 
 ing what it became the inhabitants of the kingdom to do. 
 They were thoughtful, intelligent men, who studied and who 
 understood the signs of the times ; were well versed in public 
 affairs ; knew the character of the age that was passing over 
 them, and what was best to be done in all the exigences of 
 human life ; and perceived that it was the duty and the in- 
 terest of Israel to advance David to the throne. 
 
 In the second passage, our Lord reproves the Pharisees 
 for their not being able to discern the signs of their times. 
 The signs of the times are the character and aspect of the 
 passing age. Every age has its characteristic signs impressed 
 upon it by the hand of God. To discern these is to mark 
 and comprehend them. Such attention and discri^Jiination 
 
302 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 are our duty, the neglect of which subjects us to the rebuke 
 of Christ. 
 
 Among many kinds of extremes to be avoided, there are 
 two which are suggested by the subject of the present dis- 
 course — I mean a predominance of individuality of feeling 
 on the one hand, and of catholicity on the other ; or put in 
 other words, of too selfish a regard to our own personal 
 affairs, or a too absorbing interest in the concerns of others. 
 There may be some persons, though they are not many, 
 whose whole world is self. They have surrounded them- 
 selves by a very narrow boundary, within which they endea- 
 vor to keep their attention closed in, and to occupy them- 
 selves strictly in their own business, with as little inquisi- 
 tiveness about, or connection or sympathy with, the great 
 world without as possible. Now this is wrong, for as they 
 are members of the community they owe it some duties 
 which they cannot rightly discharge without knowing its 
 condition. It is foolish, because their individual lot is in- 
 fluenced by the general one. It betrays a gross insensibility 
 not to. look up when Providence is passing by, and notice its 
 stately goings. It prevents their getting good, as well as doing 
 good, for God is ever teaching us lessons by public events. 
 It is very true, there may be the opposite extreme of being 
 so occupied by watching the progressive development of the 
 great drama of Providence, as to forget and neglect our own 
 individual concerns, and our immediate duties. We are 
 placed in a very busy world — full of men and ivorks — of 
 transactions and events — and of vast varieties of human cha- 
 racter and action. We witness all that is going on through 
 the medium of the press, ^nd conversation, and observation. 
 We are in the midst of the throng, and are moving on with it. 
 We think, talk, debate. Now it is of vast importance then, 
 
t 
 
 IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPOItTANCE OF THE AGE. 303 
 
 to attend to two things : first, not to let out attention be too 
 much drawn off from our private to public matters ; and 
 secondly, to take care to let our notice of public events be 
 carried on wisely, so as to turn what we observe to profitable 
 account. 
 
 A total disregard to passing events, is condemned in per- 
 petuity by our Lord's reproof to the Jews contained in the 
 text. But there are times when it is still more to be con- 
 demned. Providence is always at work, and it may be that 
 we, after all, are poor judges of the comparative importance 
 of its operations, since preparations may be going on in its 
 secret recesses, of which the stupendous dispensations that 
 we witness are but the external manifestation. Still there 
 can be no doubt of the wonderful character of our acre, nor 
 any danger of our unduly magnifying its importance. It is 
 obvious that the world is becoming a far more active, agita- 
 ting, changing, tumultuous scene, than formerly. Discoveries 
 and inventions ; intelligence and events ; omens and alarms, 
 come upon us not singly, but in troops ; not in showers and 
 streams, but with the rapidity, the copiousness, and the 
 force, of an inundation. In such an age, to be swallowed 
 up in our own individual concerns, and to be either such 
 religious recluses, literary solitaires, mercantile devotees, or 
 domestic exclusives, as to have no sympathy with the actors 
 and operations of the age, is neither rational nor religious, 
 but contrary to both. 
 
 Let us then now First of all inquire into the cha- 
 racteristics OF THE AGE IN WHICH WE LIVE. AllUOSt 
 
 every age has something in common with other ages, and 
 something peculiar to itself. What then are those peculi- 
 arities of the present times which should be pointed out to 
 the inquiring and observant mind .? If we speak of the agr 
 
304 THE i'OUA'G MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 as regards its iiitelleduac character, we cannot fail to notice - 
 an intense excitement and iuquisitireness. The human 
 mind was never so active, and explorative in all the regions 
 of thought as now. The discoveries of science are wonder- 
 ful, and as may be rationally expected, the inventions of art 
 are proportionate. These two must ever move together, 
 being reciprocally helpful to each other. What sui-prising 
 disclosures of the secrets of nature are going on under the 
 scrutinizing researches of experimental philosophy. Men 
 seem to feel as if there were no limits to rational inquiry, 
 and as if there was nothing knowable which they would not, 
 and could not know ; as if nothing would satisfy them till 
 they had reached the farthest boundary of knowledge. How 
 rapidly and how widely is the circle of universal knowledge 
 expanding. We are grown so familiar with the wonders of 
 the human intellect which have been of late years achieved, 
 that we now do not think anything too wonderful for man to 
 attempt or expect. Hence the magnificent, but somewhat 
 presumptuous title of his last publication by Humboldt, 
 " Cosmos," " THE WORLD ;" as if he had laid open all the 
 globe to our knowledge, and not only our planet, but the 
 great universe itself with all it comprehends. 
 
 If we regard the age in its social aspect, we see the same 
 proof of its extraordinary character. " The pervading, 
 connecting principle of community^ throughout mankind as 
 one immense body, has become much more alive. It is now 
 much more verified to be one body, however extended, by 
 the quicker, stronger sensations which pervade the rest of it, 
 from what affects any particular part." Intercourse is so 
 facilitated, quickened, and extended, that men begin to feel 
 less and less the interposing geographical and political 
 barriers which sepai-ated them from each other, and are ap- 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMrORTANCE OF THE AGE. S05 
 
 proximating to a universal neighborhood. Then, great 
 social principles are also in operation which are breaking 
 down national prejudices and antipathies. The evils of war 
 are being denounced in loud and emphatic term, and schemes 
 of universal brotherhood are put forth, which, if not likely 
 to be immediately successful, are the harbingers of the ap- 
 proaching reign of love, and the shadows which coming 
 events cast before them. The subject of slavery — the treat- 
 ment of criminals — the foundation of government — the 
 theory and practice of law — the physical condition of the 
 people — the Temperance Reform — national education — the 
 principles of international trade — the grand question of 
 civil and religious liberty, are all agitated and discussed with 
 an inquisitiveness and an eagerness which look as if society- 
 were absolutely aud resolutely bent on self-improvement, 
 and was going on towards a point immeasurably in advance 
 of anything it has yet reached. Nor should we forget the 
 extarordinary impetus that has been lately given to coloniza- 
 tion and emigration, by which new additions are being made 
 to the great family of nations, and new experiments insti- 
 tuted in the principles of human government. 
 
 The 'political character of the age, especially if we take 
 in the whole of the present century, is almost unparalleled 
 for the number, rapidity, extent, and magnitude of its revo- 
 lutions. In what a state has Europe existed during this 
 period. Almost every kingdom but our own has been the 
 seat of war, and most of them the scene of changes of 
 dynasty and government. We have seen monarchs driven 
 from their thrones — sceptres broken — and crowns rolling in 
 the dust. And though these great national earthquakes 
 have at present ceased, and there is a lull in the tempests 
 that have boen raging ; yet with four millions of men under 
 
806 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 arms at this moment, and nations jealously watching each 
 other ; with France uneasy and restless within itself, and 
 containing the elements of mischief fermenting both in its 
 capital and in its provinces, who can say how soon the spaik 
 may fall which may cause another explosion — and depend 
 upon it the next convulsion, come when it may, will be more 
 tremendous than any that have preceded it. The liberti(>s of 
 Europe have yet to be established- by the subversion of many 
 of its old governments, who seem not disposed to gain wis- 
 dom by experience. The nations arc panting for freedom — 
 and the despots are resolved they shall not be free — and ere 
 long the slaves will break their fetters and the scepters of 
 their tyrants, in the same furious struggle and in the same 
 awful scene. Young men, you know not and cannot con- 
 ceive what you may be called to witness. Happily you live 
 in a country where whatever the many have yet to gain from 
 the few, it will be won by reason and not by force. 
 
 The moral aspect of this age is no less impressive than 
 either of the preceding. If asked to describe in one or two 
 words this aspect of the age, I should say first of all, it is 
 the age of conflict. The struggle always going on in 
 our world between truth and error — good and evil — has 
 assumed a character of earnestness, not to say fierceness, as 
 if both parties were preparing for a last and decisive battle. 
 The four great religious controversies are becoming more 
 and more determined. There is the conflict which is main- 
 tained by infidelity in all its forms, including atheism, pan- 
 theism, and theism — against Christianity. That which is 
 carried on between heresy and orthodoxy. That which in 
 sustained by the advocates and opponents of State-establish- 
 ments of religion. And that mighty struggle which is 
 becoming more determined every day between Popery and 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 807 
 
 Protestantism. Never, no never was the war of opinions 
 so general and so arduous as it is now. To a contemplative 
 mind it is a somewhat awful exercise of thought, to look over 
 this vast field of conflict, where such forces are contending 
 for the moral destinies of the present and all future genera- 
 tions of mankind, and to watch the movements of the armies, 
 and their alternate victories and defeats. 
 
 Happily there is also another feature of the agt , which 
 though in one sense it bears the aspect of conflict also, is 
 sufficiently distinct from it to admit of separate considera- 
 tion — I mean the evangelising spirit, now manifested by 
 professing Christians of all denominations. This, though it 
 may be unpraised, and even to a considerable extent unnoticed, 
 by " the children of this world," wise as they are in their 
 generation, is the grandest and most hopeful sign of the 
 times. If then asked for a second word to characterise the 
 moral aspect of the times, I reply without a moment's hesi- 
 tation — BENEVOLENCE. Ygs, and that not a mere senti- 
 mental compassion — the benevolence that can weep before 
 the pictures of imagination, but can do nothing to relieve 
 the miseries of real life. Nor is it the benevolence that 
 only builds alms-houses, hospitals, dispensaries ; which would 
 combat with all the ills that flesh is heir to — disease, poverty, 
 and hunger — though we do not think lightly of this, nor 
 is the age wanting in it ; but the benevolence which 
 characterises this age, and in which we most delight, is that 
 which lighted upon our orb from heaven in the person of our 
 Lord Jesus Christ, who came to redeem man from sin — and 
 death — and hell. That which lived and moved and had its 
 being in apostles, when they went everywhere preaching the 
 gospel, '' to turn men from dumb idols to serve the living ana 
 the true God." That which in modern times is embodied in 
 
808 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 the character of the devoted and self-sacrificing missionary, 
 who for the love of Christ and pity for immortal souls, quits 
 the comforts of civilized society to dwell among savages, 
 amidst the deserts of Africa or the ices of the polar regions. 
 That in short which aims at the salvation of souls — the rescue 
 of the human mind from the chains of ignorance, and the 
 emancipation of the heart from the bondage of its lusts. 
 This, this is the noblest characteristic of our age, a religious 
 zeal to diffuse the blessings of the gospel over the face of the 
 whole earth, more intense, more active, and more compre- 
 hensive than any which has existed since the apostle's days. 
 The missionary spirit, as manifested in the various organ- 
 izations which it has called into existence — the numerous 
 missions it has established — and the triumphs over barbarism, 
 idolatiy, vice, and cruelty, which it has achieved — stamp 
 upon this age its most beneficent, most important, and most 
 sublime character. Christianity is the world's best friend. 
 Apart from its being the means of eternal life in another 
 world, it is the best benefactor of man in all his relations to 
 the present world. " It maintains an incessant struggle 
 against all that is selfish, barbarous, and inimical to human 
 happiness, and comprehends in itself the seeds of endless 
 improvement ; and it is this which rising upon us like a finer 
 sun, has quickened moral vegetation, and replenished our 
 country with talents, virtues, and exploits, which in spite of 
 its physical disadvantages, have rendered it a paradise, the 
 delight and wonder of the world." How great then, and how 
 noble an enterprize is that which attempts to make the 
 religion of the world, and thus to supplant all those moral 
 monstrosities which degrade the intellect, pollute the heart, 
 deform the character, and fill the life with misery 
 
 Such then, young men, is the age in which you are Q-Ahd 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 30« 
 
 to exist ; and such the signs, the omens, and the portents hy 
 which it is distinguished : and to which, as giving the consid- 
 eration its most intense force and importance, may be added 
 the reflection, that your lot is cast in a country that is placed 
 by Providence at the very centre of the intellectual, social, 
 and moral interests of the world. It is something more than 
 an effusion of national vanity, to affirm that England beyond 
 all countries on the globe, is at present the temple of religion 
 ■ — the hall of science — the school of learning — the citadel of 
 liberty — the refuge of distress — the mart of commerce — the 
 seat of power — the glory of history. On her depend more 
 closely than on any other nation, the intellectual, social, and 
 moral destinies of the world. The nations of the earth and 
 all coming ages and generations have more to hope from her, 
 than from any other people under the sun. Her decadence 
 would be more their loss, as her continued glory and great- 
 ness would be more their gain, than the adversity or pros- 
 perity of any other people on the face of the globe. It is 
 not then allowed to you to look on from afar upon passing 
 events, without being permitted to guide or influence them. 
 You are in the midst of them, and can touch the springs of 
 activity which are in motion around you. You are not only 
 permitted, but invited ; and not only invited, but commanded 
 to bear a part in all that is going forward for the world's im- 
 provement ; and I therefore now, 
 
 Secondly^ consider the character of the men that 
 ARE wanted for THE AGE. This will lead me to state 
 what you should be. What .? Men of the age — and/<9r it. 
 Men worthy of it — that can avail themselves of its oppor- 
 tunities for getting good, and doing good — that catch its 
 spirit, and receive its impress — that can even do something 
 to improve it, as well as be improved by it — that arc wiser 
 
310 THE YOUNG MANS FRIEND. 
 
 holier, more benevolent, more active, than their fathers — ■ 
 til at like those of the tribe of Issachar, " uTiderstand th6 
 times, and know what Israel ought to doV 
 
 As the basis of everything else — of all the talents and the 
 virtues by which you can act most beneficially, I mention, of 
 course, -personal religion. Maintainfng, as I do, that real 
 religion is the chief element in the world's well-being, aa 
 well as in the happiness of each individual, I ought to men- 
 tion this as the first thing essentially necessary in him who 
 would benefit the aoje in which he lives. I do not yield to 
 any one in my views of the value and importance of the 
 sciences, literature, and the arts ; I am as strenuous an 
 advocate of liberty as can be found ; but then I contend that 
 these will never renew the human heart, nor restore it to 
 peace. It is religion more than these things, or than all 
 other things, that the nations want for their repose and feli- 
 city ; and he that would do most to bless his species, must 
 seek to spread the blessings of Christianity. When I speak 
 of religion being the world's best friend, I mean religion as 
 we have it pure in the Bible, and in the hearts and lives of 
 its true believers ; and not as it is presented in the corrupt 
 organic forms which it has assumed in the creeds, in the 
 churches, the constitutions, and the professions of some that 
 call themselves Christians — I mean the religion of repentance, 
 truth, holiness, and love : the subjugation of the heart and 
 life to the law of God : " the wisdom that is first pure, then 
 peaceable ; full of mercy and good fruits ; gentle, and easy to 
 be entreated ; without partiality, and without hypocrisy." 
 I see with pleasure the ever rising and advancing tide of 
 knowledge ; but I am quite sure it is not upon this, but upon 
 the stream of religion that men must float into the haven of 
 sound morals, and permanent peace. The best benefactor of 
 
IMPRESSED TVITH THE IMPORTANCE OP THE AGE. 311 
 
 his race, is not he who teaches them something they did not 
 before know, though even he is entitled to their gratitude, 
 but he who delivers them from the dominion of their pas- 
 sions, and the slavery of their vices. Hence, no man can 
 serve his age so effectually as he who fears God, and under 
 the influence of such a principle seeks to benefit his fellow- 
 creatures by implanting in their hearts the principles that 
 sway his own. The worshippers of knowledge award that 
 palm to the philosopher, which is due to the Christian phi- 
 lanthropist, as the world's best friend. Hence, my young 
 friends, 1 tell you that you are not men for the age, if you 
 are not religious men. Neglect religion, and you may become 
 the world's bane and curse by your vices. Possess this, and 
 you not only promote its moral interests, which are its high- 
 est ones, but you give also the best guarantee, yea, and use 
 the best means too, of serving the age in every other way. 
 
 It becomes you to be observant — thoughtful — reflective : 
 for who in such an age as this can be in harmony with the 
 times without such a disposition .'' Rise above the folly of 
 those young men whose frivolous spirits, taken up with the 
 levities, trifles, and petty impertinencies of little minds, seem 
 incapable of serious reflection ; men who would wonder what 
 strange, mysterious power was operating upon them, if at 
 any time they found themselves in pensive mood, and in ever 
 so slight a manner, moralising on passing events ; men who 
 seem to think they are born to talk, and smoke, and laugh, 
 rather than to think. Despise such men. From these gay 
 and thoughtless triflers, society has nothing to expect. They 
 may have thoir brief day of sunshine and pleasure : they will 
 then die, vanish, and be forgotten, as though they had never 
 been. Belong, my young friends, to the class so character- 
 ifitically described as " thoughtful men ;" — men who know- 
 14 
 
312 THE YOU-VJt MANS FRIEND. 
 
 ing they were made for thought and reflsction, fix their eyes 
 on the current of events, to see which way they are flowing ; 
 — who not only make them sel res acquainted with the surface 
 of things, but who look beneath, and endeavor philosophi- 
 cally to trace events backward to their causes, and forward 
 to their consequences ; — who not only exercise their curiosity 
 to know what is taking place, but their reason in judging of 
 tendencies and influencies ; — wh 'ead the histories of past 
 times, as well as the records of the present age, to form 
 opinions founded upon examination, comparison, and legiti- 
 mate deduction. Endeavor to discern the connexion of 
 events, and their influence upon the great interests of socia^ 
 happiness, liberty, and religion. And v3Specially let the spec 
 ulative contemplation of human life and passing events ha 
 combined with the practical. Let observation constantly 
 turn into reflection, and reflection into action. Let your 
 thoughtfulness be something more than musing. Be not likf 
 one who watches the swelling tide in a dreamy mood, an(? 
 sees it rise and fall as a mere object of curiosity ; but be as 
 one who is waiting for it to reach a certain elevation, when 
 he shall throw in a net or embark in a boat. Stand amidst 
 passing events, asking the question " What does all thir 
 mean generally, and what does it require of me to do ? 
 What practical teaching is there in all this ? What must J 
 rise from this scene to perform ? For myself ? For society ? 
 For the Church of God ? What is it that Providence, by 
 what is DOW passing before me, calls me forth to attempt ?" 
 I do Bot by all this mean to impose upon you a premature 
 gravity, an unnatural solemnity and taciturnity. I do not 
 mean to depress the buoyancy, and check the sprightlincsi 
 of youth, to stiffen the manners into a repulsive formality^ 
 and to transform the modest, humble youth, into " Sir 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 313 
 
 Oracle. ' Nothing of the sort, but I still entreat young 
 men to be sober-minded. 
 
 Here asjain I brino; in mental cultivation and robustness 
 of intellect, as of great importance. Throughout the wholo 
 of these sermons I have insisted much on this, being well 
 assured that though religion is the fii'st thing, as an object 
 of human pursuit, it is not everything ; and that other things 
 being equal, he is likely to be the most useful and happy 
 man, who is the best educated one. I say to you most 
 emphatically, " Seek ye first the kingdom of Grod and his 
 righteousness," but I then add, Seek next a vrell-informed, 
 well- cultivated mind. In an age like the present, s» culti- 
 vated, so enlightened, no man can make way in the world, 
 so as to gain respect, influence others, and do good, who has 
 not some power of character, and some store of intellectual 
 wealth. Character does something I know, even where the 
 jewel is not set in the gold of brilliant knowledge : but how 
 much more when it is. He who is ambitious to be useful — 
 and it is a noble ambition wherever it exists, and which 
 ought to exist in all — must not neglect to improve his mind. 
 Who in such an age as this will hearken to the talk of igno- 
 ranee, or bow to the puerilities of weakness, or revere even 
 holy excellence if it be associated with imbecility } One of 
 the characteristics of the age is, as we have considered, an 
 active benevolence ; and another, a diffusion of knowledge. 
 Many have fallen in with the former, without being careful 
 to fall in with the other, and thus have failed in doing al] 
 the good they wished. 
 
 I now recommend the adoption of certain great principles, 
 which ought ever to be present with you when looking 
 abroad upon the course of events and the general history of 
 
314 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 mankind ; and which every one who can discern the signs of 
 the times will assiduously cherish. 
 
 Recognise^ in the current of human affairs, the scheme and 
 operations of an all-wise^ all-controlling Providence. Behold 
 in all events the permissions or the appointments of God 
 Kenounce not only the atheist's creed, but his mode of think- 
 ing and speaking of passing events. The transactions and 
 affairs of the times, though brought to pass by a vast multi- 
 tude of free and accountable agents, fulfil God's counsel and 
 contribute to the perfecting of his plan. Be the signs of the 
 times, therefore, what they may, they are such as he has 
 stamped upon them, and are significant of something pertaining 
 to him and his purpose. Believe, which you o^tainly may and 
 ought, that Grod is in all history. In looking over the land- 
 scape of history, as well as that of nature, realise the thought 
 that all you are looking upon is the result of mind — of infi- 
 nitely wise and benevolent design. This gives additional 
 interest and grandeur to the scene. There is no beauty — 
 no interest — no pleasure — in the idea of chance. It is not 
 only an irreligious, an unphilosophical, but it is also an 
 unpoetical thing — a repulsive negation — a sterile, hideous 
 conception. On the contrary, how delightful is it to look 
 upon the revolutions of empire — the discoveries of science — 
 the inventions of art — the conflict of systems — the progress 
 of society — and realize in all these, the operations of an 
 ever-present, omniscient intellect: and thus to feel our- 
 selves in the great workshop or laboratory of the all-wise, 
 all-good, all-powerful Artificer — and surrounded with the 
 glorious, though as yet unfinished, productions of his con- 
 sum mate'skill. 
 
 Another great principle to take with us to the events of 
 the age, is the superior excellence ana importance of mvral 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 315 
 
 truth over that which relates to the material world : in other 
 words, the superiority of religion and virtue to the well-being 
 of man, over science, literature, and the arts. All truth is 
 important ; but all truth is not equally important. Man's 
 moral nature is above his intellectual. His intellectual is 
 for the moral, rather than the moral for the intellectual ; and 
 as the intellectual is for the moral, so the moral is for the 
 eternal. We have glanced at this I believe, in a former 
 sermon ; we renew it here for its importance. It is, as we 
 have already said, as a moral agent that man is furthest 
 removed from the brutes that perish, and approximates 
 nearest to God. The lower animals have glimpses of reason 
 but they have no susceptibility of moral ideas. Piety and 
 virtue are loftier qualities of character in themselves, and 
 far more productive of happiness, than merely intellectual 
 acquisitions — they alone fit the soul for communion with 
 God now, and for his presence hereafter in heaven. The 
 extension of knowledge alone, even though every barbarian 
 in existence were made a philosopher, would fail, without 
 religion and morals to make men happy — but moral qualities 
 will make man happy in any state of society, in any condi- 
 tion of life. The Greenlander amidst the polar ices and 
 long nights of Arctic regions — the Red Indian amidst his 
 boundless prairies and interminable forests — the Hottentot 
 amidst the vast African deserts — or the Negro subjected to 
 the yoke of slavery, may by the external blessings of the 
 gospel, and the internal graces of a holy mind, be happy. 
 
 In the present age, one would imagine from much that is 
 said and done, that knowledge were the bread of life for the 
 soul hungering after bliss, which would satisfy every desire— 
 the panacea for diseased humanity which would heal every 
 wound — the crown of glory upon our nature — the chief feli- 
 
31C 
 
 city of our present existence — and all we need for our happi- 
 ness in another world. It is however a profound mistake, a 
 lamentable and fatal error, and it is a mistake in which nearly 
 the whole world is involved. Education, apart from religion, 
 is, it seems, to do everything for man. Ideas, ideas, ideas, 
 are all that is needed to renew, reform, and bless the human 
 race. Let but the species be admitted to the tree of know- 
 ledge, and they will find nothing but good to be the result. 
 It is the darkness of the intellect only, that is the cause of 
 the depravity of the heart ; and only let in the light of science, 
 and it will set all right. Such is the deplorable error of the 
 moral quacks of the age, whose nostrum for the cure of all 
 diseases is knowledge. Deluded men ! They would rectify 
 society without religion, and govern it without God. Have 
 they forgotten all history, especially that of Greece and 
 Rome ^ Have they ever read what the apostles says, " For 
 after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom 
 KNEW not god, it pleased God by the foolishness of 
 'preaching to save them that believe. '''^ 1 Cor. i. 21. It is 
 something for his moral nature man needs for his happiness ; 
 and you may as well offer science to a man whose limbs are 
 dislocated or whose flesh is corroding by disease, to give him 
 health and enjoyment, as to an unholy soul, when you offer 
 it nothing else, to give it holiness, ease, and contentment. 
 
 While then you concede to knowledge all that is contended 
 for on its behalf, short of its being the supreme good, and 
 the supreme means of good ; and while you go on seeking it 
 for yourself, and diffusing it to others, ever remember that 
 religious and moral truth is infinitely more important than 
 science and the arts ; and give your most zealous interest to 
 those institutions which promote it. You see on every hana 
 restlessness and dissatisfaction. Amidst the advances of so- 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE ^utlPjUTANCE OF THE AGE. 3l7 
 
 ciety in all that can exaV and dignify man as an intellectual 
 being, — amidst the teeming wonders which his still noble in- 
 tellect is producing, — amidst the homage he is ever receiving 
 from his fellows and from himself, he is still as far from hap- 
 piness as ever, and still lifting up the anxious inquiry, '' Whe 
 will show me any good ?^^ The nations of the earth, not- 
 withstanding their marvellous advancement in physical know- 
 ledge and refinement, are still as ignorant of the nature, and 
 as short of the attainment of true bliss as ever. Yes, and 
 ever must be, as long as general truth is set above that which 
 is divinely r'evealed in the Word of Grod, and as long as the 
 seat of happiness is supposed to be the intellect rather than 
 the heart. Young men, be it your felicity to discover what it 
 is that man needs to make him happy, and then to join those 
 who are laboring to diffuse the excellency of the knowledge 
 of Christ, which by renovating the moral nature, roots out 
 all that can degrade and disturb ; and plants all those seeds 
 of piety and virtue, which can elevate, adorn, and bless. 
 
 As another principle, which will guide you in your views, 
 conduct, and relations in this important age, let it be your 
 conviction that all social changes are subservient to the 
 kingdom of Christ. In all difficult problems, and compli- 
 cated schemes, it is a vast advantage to be furnished with a 
 key to unlock the whole. Now this advantage we possess in 
 the knowledge furnished by the Bible, concerning not only 
 the tendency, but the actual design, and final result of all 
 events to promote the advancement of Christianity on the 
 earth. To those whom I am addressing, it is not at all ne- 
 cessary to prove that the universal diffusion of the Christian 
 religion in its purity, would be a great blessing to the human 
 race. What curses ar.e Paganism, Mohammedanism and 
 Popery ! What a withering blight has come from these 
 
318 
 
 sourees over the moral interests of the globe ! What a juhxlee 
 for the world would be the universal reign of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ ! How many evils would flee before him ; war, sla- 
 very, tyranny, anarchy, and vice, in all its branches ! How 
 many blessings would follow in his train, — peace, liberty, 
 good government, just laws, universal brotherhood ! Now 
 the diffusion of Christianity is a great thing, the greatest that 
 can happen in and to our world. Nothing can for a moment 
 be put in comparison with it : nothing can be conceived more 
 worthy of the Divine Being, as the supreme end of his 
 government. Hence it is very delightful to know that all 
 which is taking place is subservient to this end. How grand 
 is the position of a true Christian — a believer in revelation — 
 he stands upon the mount of prophecy, and sees all the 
 various operations of science, literature, art, history, com- 
 merce, navigation, all widening the channel and deepening the 
 bed of the " Eiver of Life," which is flowing from the throne 
 of God and the Lamb, for the salvation of the world. He 
 sees statesmen, warriors, travellers, philosophers, merchants, 
 mechanicians, engineers, while pursuing their own separate 
 objects, and never dreaming of promoting Christianity, actu- 
 ally carrying on this great work. Is it not an immense 
 advantage in looking abroad upon the millions of events of 
 all kinds that are ever occurring ; events which seem to have 
 no connection with each other, nor with any one common 
 end and design, to be furnished with the knowledge of a 
 centre at -woich all these lines meet and convergre. We 
 are told tnat Christ is head over all things to his 
 CHURCH. There is the secret — the grand, glorious, and 
 blissful secret. In looking upon the progress of science 
 and the arts, the question is often almost involuntarily askedj 
 " Where will it all end .? What will it all come to .?" The 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 319 
 
 Hible answers the question : — Tht setting up in our world 
 of Ckrisfs kingdom of truth^ holiness^ and happiness. 
 Take this conviction with you through life. Look abroad, 
 upon this wonderful age, with the knowledge of this still 
 more wonderful and glorious fact ; and while the unreflecting, 
 the irreligious, the sceptical, or even the atheistic philosopher 
 is revelling in the discoveries of science, but stopping there, 
 do you go on to that nobler cause — to which he himself 
 though he knoweth it not, nor doth his heart think so, is bu' 
 an unconscious instrument, and all the sciences are but hana- 
 maids — the universal diffusion of religion. 
 
 A last principle I would request you to take up and apply 
 to the age, is this — Social reform must be brought about by 
 individual regeneration. This principle is as weighty as it 
 is true. We hear a great deal in various directions, about 
 the improvement of society, and a noble idea it is, whether 
 politically or morally viewed. Social evils are so numerous, 
 so deeply seated, and so pernicious, that it is desirable and 
 important they should be removed by extensive reformation. 
 But it is forgotten even by those who declaim most loudly 
 against them, and call most earnestly for a bet! r direction 
 to be given to the masses, that the best way, the only way, 
 to improve the whole is by seeking the improvement of each 
 part. Individual regeneration is the only way to general 
 reformation. It is all well enough to talk about the latter, 
 and to join in associate efforts to promote it ; but it will end 
 in talk, as long as there is no concern for each man to im- 
 prove himself. Public and conglomerate evils must, I know, 
 be publicly and jointly attacked ; but the assailants must 
 begin with themselves, and come to the assault with clean 
 hands and pure hearts. It is of vast importance to set out 
 in life with this view of things. He is the best reformer wh« 
 14* 
 
320 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 begins with the reformation of himself ; and' no systems will 
 be effectual for public amelioration which leave out of con- 
 sideration the necessity of individual excellence. A deep 
 sense of personal responsibility should lie on every man's 
 conscience. Every man is a part of the existing generation, 
 and does something by his own character and conduct to 
 form the character of the age. Each ought therefore to 
 ask, What would I have the age to be ? That let me en- 
 deavor to be. 
 
 No man can rightly appreciate his age who does not 
 cherish Public Spirit. This, at all times incumbent, is 
 especially so in the present day. By this I do not mean a 
 noisy, obtrusive, and restless desire to obtain notoriety by a 
 seeming zeal to rectify public evils, and promote the public 
 good — a disposition to meddle with those who are given to 
 change — a would-be reformer of abuses, but a determination 
 founded upon conscientious conviction, associated with deep 
 humility, and modestly expressed, to do all the good you can 
 and to leave the world the better for your having lived in it. 
 No man " liveth to himself is the dictate of reason, as 
 well as the command of revelations. As a member of society, 
 and not like Alexander Selkirk, the solitary inhabitant of a 
 desolate island, each man is a debtor to the community from 
 which he receives benefits, and to which he owes correspond- 
 ing obligations. Every man can do something to benefit 
 other men, and what he can do he ought to do. If this is 
 his duty at all times, it is especially so in these. Benevolenct?, 
 as we have already considered, is one of the noblest and 
 most identifying moral features of the age. Never was so 
 much doing for the well-being of mankind. It is a glo- 
 rious thing, and makes one grateful for the present, and 
 hopeful for the future. Men are every where stepping 
 
IMPRESSED WITU THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 321 
 
 «fut of the circle of selfishness into the broadest circum- 
 ference of the general good. It is an age of action — of 
 action in the cause of God and human happiness. Public 
 spirit is become with multitudes a principle, and with multi- 
 tudes more a fashion. Selfishness acquires at such a time 
 peculiar enormity, whether it be the selfishness of avarice, 
 which will give no money for the public good — of indolence, 
 which will give no labor — or of literary or scientific taste, 
 which will give no time. Under the influence of public 
 spirit the world is improving — ignorance, vice, and misery 
 are yielding to its influence — and knowledge, truth, holiness, 
 and happiness are bringing on the millenium. The religious 
 institutions of this age are its own glory and the hope of 
 every other yet to come. They are preparing the earth for 
 its emancipation from the thraldom and misery under which 
 it has been groaning for nearly six thousand years, and for 
 the glorious liberty of truth, holiness, and happiness. At 
 such a time will you be torpid at the centre of universal 
 activity } Will you now refuse to sympathise with philan- 
 thropist?, reformers, and evangelists } Never, no never, 
 were the youth of any preceding generation called to such 
 a work, so great, so noble, and so benevolent, as is presented 
 to the young men of this generation. Never had our youth 
 such an opportunity of signalising themselves by active 
 benevolence, or disgracing themselves by selfishness and in- 
 dolence, as those of the present day. 
 
 " Begin early then to cherish a public spirit, because if 
 you do not possess this disposition in the morning of life, 
 you probably never will. This is a virtue that rarely springs 
 up late in life. If it grow and flourish at all, it must be 
 planted in youth and be nourished by the warm sunshine 
 and rain of the spring season of existence. He who cares 
 
822 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 only for himself in youth will be a very niggard in manhood, 
 and a wretched miser in old age."* 
 
 A young man rightly impressed with the circumstances 
 of the age will guard assiduously against its evils, for every 
 age has its appropriate dangers, and the present one forms 
 no exception to the general rule. I can only briefly enu- 
 merate these. 
 
 He will check and restrain an excessive love of pleasure, 
 which in many cases leads to dissipation — in others unfits 
 for business — and in far more altogether indisposes the 
 mind for sober thought, mental culture, and true religion. 
 This is one of the prominent tendencies of the day in which 
 we live, and threatens infinite damage to the present and 
 eternal welfare of mankind, by bringing on an age of frivol- 
 ity, sensuality, and practical atheism. Find your pleasure, 
 young men in the improvement of your mind — in attention 
 to business — in true piety — and in active benevolence. Is 
 there not scope enough for enjoyment here .'' " Wisdom's 
 ways are ways of pleasantness and all her paths are peace." 
 
 Excessive worldliness is another of the dano-ers of this acre. 
 In a country, compared with which Phojnicia, Tyre, Carthage, 
 and Corinth, viewed as commercial nations, were mere ped- 
 lars, — and in an age, compared with which every other that 
 preceded it, even in this land, was a time of stagnancy — 
 there is most eminent peril of sinking into the mere world- 
 ling, and living only to get wealth. Never was competition 
 so fierce, and never the danger so great of having the con- 
 science benumbed — moral principle prostrated — the heart 
 rendered callous, and even the intellect rifled of its strength, 
 or sharpened only into cunning and duplicity by the love of 
 money, as in the age in which we live. Wealth is the god of 
 * Dr. Hawes' Lectures to Young Men. 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 323 
 
 Britain's idolatry just now ; and you without watchfulnesss 
 and prayer, are in danger of bowing devoutly at its shrine, 
 becoming its worshippers, and immolating your souls as a 
 burnt offering on its altars. 
 
 Pride of intellect^ leading to scepticism and infidelity 
 forms a most fearful peril in this age. "We have already 
 spoken of the conflict which is now going on between the 
 various forms of unbelief and Christianity. The struggle is 
 eagerly maintained by both parties, and though to the sin- 
 cere believer in Christianity there is no doubt how it will 
 terminate, yet in the mean while there is great reason to 
 fear, from the boldness and subtlety of the attacks of infi- 
 delity, that some, and even not a few victories will be gained 
 by the opponents of Christianity, The natural bias of youth 
 is almost always to infidelity. And such is the case, not 
 merely because, as Bacon says, " a little philosophy inclines 
 us to atheism, and a great deal of philosophy carries us back 
 to religion ;" but youth has an intellectual bias against reli- 
 gion, because it would humble the arrogance of the under- 
 standing ; and a moral bias against it, because it would check 
 the indulgence of the passions ; and it is these two causes that 
 will account for the prevalence of infidelity among so many 
 young men of the present day. In an age when the mind 
 of man is pouring out its prodigies in such profusion, there 
 is imminent peril of believing it almost omnipotent, omni- 
 scient, and all-sufficient, and of man's accounting himself his 
 own Grod, and feeling as if he needed no other. The ten- 
 dency is to that Pantheism which instead of saying nothing 
 is God. says everything is God. Man-worship is the idolatry 
 of the day, as well as monev-worship. And yet notwith- 
 standing the prodigies of intellect which man can and does 
 accomplish how little way does all this go to make him 
 
324 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 either holy or happy. The profoundest philosopher and the 
 noblest son of science as much need a revelation from God 
 to guide them in matters of religion and morals, as the 
 peasant or the child. 
 
 Superstition, leading to formalism in religion, instead of 
 the religion of the intellect, the heart, the conscience, and 
 the life, is with some, though not so much with you, a danger 
 of the age. Yet though it is chiefly among that portion of 
 our race most under the influence of passion and imagina- 
 tion, that superstition gains its victories, it is evident from 
 many facts that even the more masculine minds of your sex 
 are not quite proof against the seductions of Popery and its 
 cognate systems. And when we see over what mighty intel- 
 lects this dreadful system has cast its shade or thrown its 
 spell, and what gifted minds it has induced to drink of the 
 Circean cup of its enchantments, we must not speak too 
 strongly on the probability that none but the feeble or the 
 imaginative will yield to its sorceries. 
 
 Young men, study then, seriously consider, and be duly 
 impressed with, the dangers that characterise the age in which 
 you live, dangers by which you are surrounded. I speak 
 not now of the ordinary perils which apply to every age 
 alike — the dangers arising from the ardor of passion — the 
 puriency of imagination — the influence of example — the love 
 of companionship — the temptations to sensuality, to intem- 
 perance, to dishonesty, to extravagance, which beset the 
 young man's path at all times : these have been already con- 
 sidered in previous discourses. But I now speak of those 
 which appertain to the age in which it is your lot to live. 
 Do not be ignorant, insensible, or indifi'erent, in such a situ- 
 ation ; nor treat the subject with carelessness or levity 
 Ponder, devoutly ponder, tlie subject. As your protection 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 325 
 
 f^ n these perils — possess yourselves of personal religion. 
 Tl ^, and this only, is your adequate defence. Here is your 
 shiiyM and buckler. Watch and pray that you enter not into 
 temptation. Put your trust in God. With his fear before 
 your eyes and his love reigning in your hearts, you are safe, 
 and will escape unscathed from all these perils to which you 
 are constantly exposed. 
 
 Reflect then upon your condition. Here you are ia 
 being, existing not by your own choice but by the appoint- 
 ment of Providence, in one of the most eventful eras that 
 ever elapsed in the history of the world or the flight of time. 
 For you, all preceding nations, and ages, and generations, 
 with all their mightiest men, and all their greatest disco- 
 veries, events, inventions, and exploits, have existed. What- 
 ever valor has won — science explored — art contrived — 
 labor achieved — suff"ering produced — has come down to you. 
 For you, heroea have bled in the field — martyrs sufi'ered on 
 the scaffold or at the stake — philosophers studied in the 
 closet — monarchs rei^-ned on the throne — statesmen lesjis- 
 lated in the senata — and travellers crossed the desert and 
 the ocean. All the light and experience of nearly six thou- 
 sand years concentrates in your history. You receive the 
 full benefit of the art of printing — the revival of letters — 
 the Reformation of the sixteenth century, and the Revolu- 
 tion of the i^eventoenth. For you, the resurrection of 
 America from the tomb of the Atlantic — the establishment of 
 the British Empire in Asia and in Africa — have been effected. 
 For you, civil and religious liberty has been matured in its 
 most unrestricted form. For you, Bible Societies — Mission- 
 ary Societies — Tract Scrcieties — and all the otner institutions 
 of Christian benevolence, have been established and made 
 ready to your hands All nations — all ages — all generations 
 
326 THE YOUNG MAn's FR[END. 
 
 have labored, and you have entered into their labors. You 
 stand surrounded will these spoils of time — the wealth of 
 nations, the achievements of humanity — and the ^ifts of 
 Providence. And I now ask, " What manner of men 
 
 OUGHT YOU TO BE ?" 
 
 So much for the past and the present, and then the 
 future. What a future ! What a seal is breaking for the 
 next century ! All men are fixing an eye of inquisitive 
 curiosity and anxious expectation upon the unfolding of the 
 scroll which contains the history of the next century. What 
 may we not expect from and for humanity within that 
 period ! What may not be hoped for from science, the arts, 
 learning, and religion ? All, all under God depends upon 
 you and your class. Into your hands, as the next generation 
 that is to be, must come the destinies of futurity. You, and 
 others of your age, must cause the wheels of the world's des- 
 tiny to roll backward or forward. You, you, are to deter- 
 mine the character of the next age, for you are to form it. 
 Look over the world's intellectual and moral condition, 
 its civilization and evangelization — look over the civil and 
 religious interests of your country, its government, its laws, 
 its liberties, its institutions, — look over the state and extent 
 of the Church of Christ, the world's illuminator and regene- 
 rator, and recollect that all these destinies are soon to be in 
 your hands. You cannot escape from this trust and the 
 responsibility which it involves. Providence has fixed it 
 upon you, and you cannot throw it ofi". For the manner in 
 which you sustain these interests you are held accountable 
 not only to futurity, but at the bar of God. " You must 
 exist ; you must exist in the midst of society, burdened with 
 the weighty responsibility that grows out of the relations you 
 sustain to the living beings around you, and to the generations 
 
IMPRtlSSED WITH THE IMPC\ITANCE OF THE AGE. 327 
 
 that are coming after you ; and you must take the eternal 
 consequences of living and acting in these deeply interesting 
 circumstances." 
 
 Young men, is there nothing here that deserves and 
 demands reflection ? Perhaps you have never thought of 
 this as you should. You have never seriously considered 
 the obligations imposed by the peculiar features of the 
 age. You have never revolved the fact that the value, 
 importance, and accountability, of human life are to be 
 measured not by a fixed, but a variable scale, and that 
 they rise and fall according to circumstances. In innumer- 
 able cases, one man now can do in the common arts and 
 manufactures, what ten or twenty men could not do a 
 century ago ; and this is as true in regard to the operations 
 of benevolence, as it is to those of trade — and thus the value 
 of existence, and the importance of individual existence, are 
 far greater than they once were. A man is a man at all 
 times, but he is more of a man as regards power and achieve- 
 ment at one time than another. In such a day as this, then, 
 not only as related to the past but to the future, I again ask, 
 and with all possible emphasis. What manner of men ought 
 you to he ! I want you to be worthy of what the past has 
 done for you — of what the present confers upon you — and of 
 what the future will demand from you. I am solicitous that 
 you should not prove ungrateful to the one, or unfaithful to 
 the other. I tremble lest the current of improvement which 
 has flowed so strongly to you, should flow languidly from 
 you. I press again and again that question. What manner 
 of men ought you to he ? Yes — and I add to this question 
 the apostle's words — " in all manner of holy conversation 
 and godliness V For this, and only this, can prepare and fit 
 you to become blessings, in the highest sense of the term, to 
 
328 THE YOUNG man's FRIEND. 
 
 the age in which you live or to those which follow. It is this 
 you need for yourselves above all arts and sciences. Religion 
 has done more to exalt human nature — and does exalt it more 
 wherever it is possesse-d — than all other subjects combined. 
 It is the noblest element of mental and moral growth, both 
 in heaven and earth. Indeed no man can he truly great, 
 unless his mind is enlarged and his heart purified by its 
 sacred power. This was the grace and glory of our first father 
 when he came glowing in moral beauty from the hand of his 
 Creator. It gave elevation and grandeur of soul to prophets 
 and apostles; sacred heroism to martyrs ; and in modern days 
 it placed high in the scale of being such men as Newton, and 
 Milton, and Boyle, and Locke, and Pascal. And while it is 
 your own highest dignity, and richest happiness, it will prove 
 your mightiest instrument of power, for the well-being of 
 others. That which makes you Christians, is that which 
 would make you philanthropists. Do you wish to benefit 
 and bless the world in the most extensive and most lasting 
 manner, aim at its subjugation to the power of religion. 
 The world is to be converted to Christ, the beauties of holi- 
 ness are to cover every region, and the song of salvation is 
 to float on every breeze. It is not science that is to hush the 
 deepest groans of creation, nor the arts that are to wipe 
 away the bitterest tears of humanity : this is reserved for 
 religion. Many a humble follower of the Lamb that shall pace 
 the walks of the Crystal Palace, and survey with but partial 
 knowledge of its teeming wonders and indescribable beauties, 
 shall do more to bless his species in the way of direct 
 moral and religious benefit than many of the mighty artificers 
 whose productions attract the eyes and excite the admiration 
 of gazing millions. One human soul comprehends a value 
 compared with which the unrivalled glories of that wonderful 
 
IMPRESSED WITH THE IMPORTANCE OF THE AGE. 329 
 
 collection are but a thing of nought : the loss of one such 
 soul would be an infinitely greater calamity than the de- 
 struction of that whole building and all its contents by fire : 
 while its salvation would be to him who obtains it a greater 
 treasure than his possession of all that wealth of nations — 
 and to him who achieves it a greater honor in the world of 
 spirits than to have contrived the palace and to have crowded 
 it with its matchless and innumerable wonders. What a 
 motive to seek our own salvation first of all, and then to 
 comply with our high and noble calling to seek the salvation 
 of our fellow-men. Rise, my young friends, to your high, 
 your holy, and your beneficent calling — live for the present 
 age, and send forward an influence through all future ages. 
 Live for glory ^ honor ^ and immortality^ and let nothing 
 satisfy you either foi yourulf or others — but whM is 
 
 ETERNAL. 
 
THE YOUNG MAN DYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO 
 REVIEW LIFE IN OLD AGE. 
 
 *' One dieth in his full strength, being wholly at ease, and quiet." 
 
 Job xxi. 22. 
 
 " Now when he came nigh unto the gate of the city, behold, there 
 was a dead man carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was 
 a widow." — LvKE vii. 12. 
 
 " We spend our years as a tale that is told. The days of our years 
 are threescore years and ten : and if by reason of strength they be four- 
 score years, yet is their strength labor and sorrow : for it is soon cut 
 off, and we fly away." — Psalm xc. 10. 
 
 You remember, perhaps, the incident that is recorded of 
 Xerxes, the Persian monarch — that when reviewing the 
 mighty host, numbering more than two millions of men, 
 with which he was then invading Greece, he burst into tears, 
 upon the reflection that within far less than a century not 
 an individual of all those teeming multitudes would be alive. 
 Pity he had not thought how many myriads of them his mad 
 ambition was hurrying to the grave by the devastations of 
 war. With like pensive, but more practical feelings, let us 
 look over the population of our globe, and consider that 
 
DYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 331 
 
 according to the average term of human life, nearly a thou- 
 sand millions of immortal beings pass from our world to 
 their eternal doom every thirty years. What a conqueror 
 is death ! What an evil is sin that is the cause of this mor- 
 tality ! What a world is that beyond the grave, where all 
 these countless millions re-assemble ! And what a being is 
 God, who is the Author of their separate existence, pursues 
 each one through his whole individual history, and will not 
 suffer one to be left forgotten in the grave, nor overlooked in 
 *.he judgment, nor left without his just and appropriate doom 
 'n the retributions of eternity ! Are you in want of subjects 
 for reflection and useful moralising, what themes are these ! 
 Man is born to die : death is ever doing its work : and the 
 Mde of mortality is ever setting in upon the shore of eternity, 
 '■^earing with it all that belong to the human species. In 
 booking at the race of Adam only in this aspect of it — in 
 'jeeing one generation follow another to the grave in end- 
 less succession, like the various vegetable and animal 
 bribes, — we are ready to ask the question of the Psalmist, 
 '' Wherefore hast thou made all m.en in vain ?" And truly 
 'sf there were no other state of existence than this, there 
 would be reason in the inquiry, for apart from immortality, 
 ■ife is a dream, and man a shadow. Comparing the noble- 
 ness of his faculties, with the shortness and uncertainty of 
 ais life, and the vanity of his pursuits, he would, if this world 
 9nly were the sphere of existence, seem to be a reflectioQ 
 upon the wisdom of his Creator, who had invested him with 
 the powers of an angel, and the yearnings after immortality, 
 merely to mind earthly things. But with the eternal world 
 thrown open to our view, and its state of rewards and punish- 
 ments disclosed to our faith, how momentous are that term 
 and condition of existence which are granted us as a discipline 
 
332 THE rouNG man's friend. 
 
 and probation for immortality. With far other feelings 
 than those of contempt or complaint, we now echo the 
 inquiry, " What is your lifeV Death is an agent that 
 works by no rule or order with which we are acquainted ; 
 sometimes passing by the aged to take the young : leaving 
 the sickly to seize upon the healthy : removing the useful 
 and sparing the worthless. 
 
 This brings me to the subject of our evening's discourse, 
 The Young Man dying early, or living to review life 
 in old age. 
 
 I. Let us consider the first alternative. Yes : the young 
 man may die early. The fact recorded in the text is often 
 repeated. It is in the order of nature for the aged to die, 
 and for the young to live : but this order is not always 
 observed. More deviations from it take place in the human 
 race than in any other tribe of creatures. How few of the 
 young of the inferior animal die, compared with those of 
 the human race. Life seems to be precarious in proportion 
 to its value. What multitudes of young people die annually 
 in this country of consumption, that bane of English youth. 
 It is to me somewhat mournful to recollect how many beau- 
 tiful flowers I have seen thus cut down in spring. I have 
 followed to the grave during my ministry, young persons in 
 suflficient numbers, had they all still lived, to form a congre- 
 gation of no inconsiderable size. What has been, still is, 
 and ever will be — I mean, the mortality of youth. 
 
 There is always something affecting in the death of a 
 young man. In some cases it realizes the scene described 
 by the evangelist in the text, " Now when he came nigh to 
 the gate of the city, behold there was a dead man carried 
 out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow." 
 Her only comfort is removed, and the last light of her 
 
DYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 333 
 
 tabernacle is put out — her solitary tie to life is cut, and 
 she feels left alone upon a bleak and desolate shore. In 
 other cases it is the son of wealthy parents whose brightest 
 prospects hung suspended upon that one precious life, the 
 termination of which causes their, to repeat in sorrow, not 
 perhaps unmixed with complaint, the words of Job, " He 
 destrojeth the hope of man." In other instances it is the 
 death of a youth of great promise ; he had finished his edu- 
 cation, served his apprenticeship, and with talents that excited 
 the liveliest hopes of success, and with virtues that had 
 already ensured admiration, was just about to step upon the 
 stage of active life. He had formed, perhaps, a connection 
 of chaste and tender love with one that was worthy of him, 
 and with whom he expected soon to share the cup of connu- 
 bial happiness •, and then, when all was smiling around him, 
 and he was returning so joyously its smiles, he is smitten 
 down by death. Oh, to see that noble flower, when nearly 
 full-blown, droop its head upon its stalk, wither, and die. 
 How many tears are shed, how many hopes are disappointed, 
 how many sorrowful voices exclaim, " What would he not 
 have been had he lived .^" When the aged man, who has 
 lived out his term, expires, we are not surprised ; we expected 
 it, and were prepared for it. But for the young to die, for 
 whom no fears nor dread anticipations were cherished ! It 
 comes upon us not only with grief, but with astonishment. 
 
 Now I will put a double supposition : — 
 
 First. That of the young man who dies a true Chris- 
 tian. He has remembered his Creator in the days of his 
 youth, repented of sin, believed in Christ, lived in the fear 
 of Grod. He has not forgotten nor neglected religion. This 
 was his mode of life, when death came upon him. The king 
 of terrors pays no more respect to piety than to talent. 
 
334 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 Many a briojht blossom of the church as well as of the world 
 is nipped off by his relentless hand. The Christian youth 
 has been often removed, as well as the irreligious one. In 
 such a case, when he found he must die, he felt serious, 
 solemn, and at first somewhat sorrowful, on looking round 
 on all he was parting from — on seeing the mists of the dark 
 valley rising over the landscape which he had been accus- 
 tomed to survey with so much delight ; and witnessing all 
 his prospects suddenly fading before his eyes. But when 
 his faith came to his relief, bringing with it the " everlasting 
 consolation" of the gospel, and "a good hope through 
 grace, a hope full of immortality," he recovered his tranquil- 
 lity, and in the prospect of that glory, honor, and eternal 
 life, to which he believed he was going, he could then 
 serenely look 
 
 " Oil all he's leaving, now no longer his." 
 
 We are ready to say, what hopes are buried in his tomb — 
 his own, his parents', his friends', and his country's expecta- 
 tions. He was permitted to see and even to touch many 
 things that were attractive and alluring, but to grasp nothing. 
 He was conducted to an eminence whence he could survey a 
 beautiful prospect as his seemingly destined possession, and 
 then closed his eyes in death. He had but a fragment of 
 existence, and what made it all the more mournful is that the 
 fragment indicated how precious the whole would have been, 
 had it been spared. Did he not live in vain ? 
 
 No, he did noi live in vain. He answered the highest 
 end of existence, as certainly as if he had lived out the three- 
 score years and ten, or four score years of man's existence — 
 as if he had entered upon business and succeeded in obtaining 
 wealth — as if he had married and had raised a numerous and 
 
DYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 335 
 
 respectable family — as if he had obtained rank, station, and 
 influence in society, or renown. For what w the highest end 
 of human life ? The salvation of the immortal soul, — a pre- 
 paration and a portion for eternity, a meetness for heaven. 
 As in a former discourse T have shown, man's chief end is to 
 glorify God and enjoy him for ever. Now, the truly pious 
 person has accom'plished this end — has secured this object 
 as completely, though he die at the age of twenty, as if he 
 had lived to that of seventy. He says on his death-bed, 
 " True, there are some things I could have wished to live 
 for, and I feel that in not being permitted to remain and 
 accomplish them, I am giving up some of the secondary and 
 inferior ends of exist«nce — but I have fulfilled the one great 
 end of life. I have obtained the one thing needful, even the 
 salvation of my soul. I have accomplished the loftiest and 
 most benevolent purpose of God in sending me upon earth. 
 I have not lived in vain. He who is made for immortality, 
 and has everlasting ages of pure delight before him, need 
 not regret the loss of a few years of pleasure mixed with 
 pain. I am upon the threshold of eternity, and have at- 
 tended to that which will prepare me for an eternity of bliss. 
 I am disappointed in the hope of some little things, but I 
 am not disappointed in the pursuit of far greater ones, and 
 in the sublime fruition of the latter I shall soon forget the 
 momentary pains of the former. I am parting from friends 
 dear as life, but I am going to others still dearer. I am 
 turning away from bright prospects, but infinitely brighter 
 ones are opening upon my view. I am going away early 
 from earth, but am going as early to heaven ; and my dura- 
 tion in the former is shortened only that my duration in the 
 latter might be extended. The connections whom I am 
 leaving pity me for my early death ; the angels in Paradise 
 15 
 
336 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 congratulating me on so soon quitting a vale of tears, and so 
 early retiring from all the trials, temptations, and dangers, 
 of this scene of conflict. I am now within sight of glory, 
 and am all but absolutely certain of being safely brought to 
 it. Who can tell but I am taken home to escape perils 
 which might have been too great for my strength. I there- 
 fore die without murmuring, and depart with cheerful sub- 
 mission, though I die in youth, since it is to be with Christ 
 which is far better." 
 
 Happy youth ! Yes, happy, to have thy warfare thus 
 early and successfully accomplished — to win the victory at 
 the very commencement of the battle ! So soon to gain and 
 wear the crown.* 
 
 * I will give an illustration of this by a scene, part of wmch I 
 witnessed myself. A few Sabbaths since, after the morning service, I 
 was requested to visit a gentlenaan then alarmingly ill, at one of our 
 inns, on his way to Scotland. It is not my custom, for want of strength, 
 to visit the sick on Sabbath-days, but this case was urgent, and I went 
 to the hotel. I w^as introduced to the sick-chamber of a remarkably 
 fine young man, of considerable worldly respectability, who was at- 
 tended by two anxious sisters and a brother. They were bearing him 
 home with many apprehensions that he would die on the road. My 
 visit was one of solemn and mournful delight, for I found him a real 
 Christian, expecting death hourly, but expecting it in the most serene 
 and hopeful frame of mind, as his kind deliverer from the burden of 
 the flesh. Since then I received from one of his sorrowing sisters the 
 following account of his peaceful dismissal : 
 
 " * * # He suflfered greatly the last three weeks, but was en- 
 abled to bear all with much patience, feeling it came from the hand ot 
 a loving Father. His growth in grace was very rapid ; he seemed to 
 enjoy largely the teaching of the Holy Spirit. The Lord was most 
 gracious in the support and comfort he vouchsafed to him. He often 
 seemed lost in adoring wonder, contemplating the amazing love of God 
 in Christ Jesu.s. Although he had much to make life to be enjoyed, 
 he left earth without regret; indeed.he said he would not like to re- 
 
DriXG EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIRW LIFE. 337 
 
 Secondly. But I must now turn to a class of young per- 
 sons the reverse of all this : I mean those who die in youth, 
 but die without religion. Alas, alas, what an idea ! How 
 sad, how mournful, how awful is this ! To die without reli- 
 gion ! To go out of the world without comfort in death and 
 without hope beyond it ! And usually they who live with- 
 out religion, die without it. Death-bed repentances are in 
 most cases little to be thought of, and less to be depended 
 upon. True repentance is never too late, but late repent- 
 ance is rarely true. Religion is not like the act of a man 
 who in a shipwreck is cast into the sea, and there in the 
 greatest alarm, as a matter of necessity, lays hold of and 
 grasps a plank as a means of saving himself from being 
 drowned. But on the contrary, it resembles the conduct of 
 one, who deliberately and by choice steps on board a vessel 
 or a boat, to convey him on some painful or pleasurable 
 voyage. And, therefore, they who live without religion, I 
 repeat, generally die without it. 
 
 Everything renders the dearth of a young man who dies 
 without religion peculiarly melancholy. He has no comfort 
 in death ; on the contrary, he has most melancholy reflec- 
 tions. Comfort in death can come only from religion. The 
 pretiifying process of a stoical philosophy, or of a hardening 
 infidelity, may, and sometimes does, so turn a man's heart 
 into stone that he may acquire a stupid insensibility even in 
 d ath ; but actual comfort can come only from religion. 
 
 turn again to the world, except from one desire, that he might be 
 honored in doing something for the Saviour. When in much suffering, 
 some hours before his death, it was said to him, '• Soon will this be 
 ended, and then, happy, happy spirit ;" he faintiy replied, "Happy even 
 now." Amongst his last words were, " Peace, peace." * 
 Are you preparod. if called to die in youth, To die thus happy? 
 
338 THE YOUNG MAm's FRIEND. 
 
 It is the hope of immortality alone which can be as a lamp 
 in the dark valley of the shadow of death, and the man with- 
 out this passes through the gloomy region either in pertur- 
 bation and mental agony, or in sullen indiJerence. 
 
 In this case, there are also the vexation, disappointment, 
 and distress, at giving up life so early. A feeling of mortifi- 
 cation springs up in his heart, akin to that, though infinitely 
 more dreadful, of a person who is reluctantly called away at 
 the commencement, from the midst of a most pleasurable 
 scene, which he intensely wishes to see completed, while 
 numbers are left behind still to enjoy it long after his depar- 
 ture. For awhile he resists and resents the thought of 
 dying. He clings to life with a tenacity which looks as if 
 he could not, would not, dare not, die. He sends for his 
 companions, who endeavor to cheer him, and persuade him 
 he shall yet do well, and he talks with them of plans of 
 future enjoyment, when he shall recover. Disease, however, 
 progresses, and extinguishes these hopes ; and at last comes, 
 first the dreadful fear, and then the still more dreadful cer- 
 tainty, that he cannot live. Thoughts such as these are in 
 his mind, although he may be afraid to give utterance to 
 them in language, " It is really a very hard case to die so 
 young. Before I have scarcely tried what life is, to be thus 
 hurried out of it ! To have ties so tender, and only just 
 formed, severed. To see all my hopes so soon, and so sud- 
 denly cut off, and all my prospects shut up. To have the cup 
 of pleasure dashed from my lips, just as I had begun to sip it, 
 and before I had taken one full draught ! To see others of 
 my own age in full health, pursuing their schemes, and likely 
 to live and prosper, while I am dying and going down to the 
 grave. How cruel is inexorable fate. How I almost wish I 
 had never been born, for what has this short life proved to 
 
OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 339 
 
 me, but a disappointment ? Mj existence has been rather a 
 shadow than a substance — a mockery, rather than a realiza- 
 tion, of hope. I have lived only for this world, which I am 
 now leaving for ever, and have made no provision nor pre- 
 paration for that on which I am about to enter. I have 
 neglected my soul and have forgotten God. I am wrecked 
 at the commencement of the voyage of life, and shall perish 
 with all that belongs to me, both as a mortal and immortal 
 creature." How distressing to meet death in such a frame i 
 as this ; so cold, so hopeless, so comfortless and cheerless ! 
 
 A young man dying without religion is, according to his 
 own views and reflections, cut off, without having seen, known, 
 or enjoyed much of life. He has not had his share of life's 
 business, enjoyments, and possessions. His views of his 
 case are quite correct. He is withdrawn from the gay circle, 
 and the scenes of business, as soon as he entered them. And 
 as he has lived without religion, and secured the possession 
 of nothing else, he has lived in vain. His case is the very 
 opposite of that which we have considered in the former part 
 of this discourse. He has not sought the one great end of 
 existence — the salvation of the immortal soul — and all the 
 secondary and inferior ends are failing him. The supreme 
 objects of being which Grod proposed to him, he turned away 
 from, and those inferior ones, which he proposed to himself, 
 are turning away from him. He lived only for this world, 
 and the deity to which he consecrated his life has left him 
 almost immediately after the surrender. He has had no 
 time to gain worldly wealth or distinction, and has wilfully put 
 away from him^ the opportunity which he certainly once 
 possessed to ky up treasures in heaven ; and there he now 
 lies, with all his hopes of earth and time a wreck, and no 
 hope of heaven and immortality rising up in their place. 
 
540 THE YOUWG man's FRIEND. 
 
 Follow him on to eternity. No compensation is found 
 there for what he has lost here. It is not in his case as it 
 is in that of the religious young man, whose early death is 
 so much taken from earth to be added to heaven ; for ht has 
 not sought heaven, and has no portion there. He has lost 
 the possession and enjoyment of both worlds at once ; his 
 few fleeting pleasures on earth are not followed with the ful- 
 ness of joy which is at Grod's right hand, and the pleasures 
 that are for evermore in his presence. He has been suddenly 
 hurried away from the springs of earthly delight, and no 
 fountain in heaven, nor " river of water of life, clear as crys- 
 tal, proceeding from the throne of God and the Lamb," 
 comes in to supply their place. Earth rolls from beneath 
 his feet, and heaven stoops not to sustain and receive his 
 sinking spirit. He rises not at once to glory as does the 
 young departing Christian, exulting as he looks on the fading 
 scenes of terrestrial beauty, and exclaiming, " I have lost 
 nothing." It is his on the contrary, as he resigns his spirit, 
 mournfully to confess, " I have lost everything. I am early 
 driven out of earth, and the portals of heaven open not to 
 receive me." 
 
 Nor is this all ; for the death of an irreligious young man 
 reaches the climax of its distress and misery in the consi- 
 deration that his early removal is so much time taken from 
 the occupations, possessions, and pleasures of earth, to be 
 added to the bitter pains of eternal death, the inconceivable 
 torments of the bottomless pit. To the religious man who 
 dies in youth, whatever he may part from, still death is gain. 
 He gains infinitely more than he can lose ; but the in-eligious 
 young man not only loses all he had, and all he hoped for 
 on earth, but gains nothing in return but the loss of his 
 Boul's salvation with it, and has in his miserable condition the 
 
DYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 3'il 
 
 Bgonj of contrasting what he left on earth with what he has 
 gained in the dark world of hell. He will not have the poor^ 
 wretched, meagre satisfaction, if such it can be called, of re- 
 flecting that on his way to perdition, he had his fill of earthly 
 pleasure and business ; and like the rich man, lived long and 
 fared sumptuously every day, before he descended to that 
 place of torment. On the contrary, he will have through 
 eternity to reflect that he received nothing in exchange for 
 his soul but the vices and follies of youth, and sacrificed his 
 immortal interests for the pleasures of sin confined, as in his 
 case they were, to the brief season of his short life. 0, how 
 mean, how insignificant, a price this, for which to barter 
 away immortal bliss ! How far below the folly and impiety 
 of that profane man who sold his birthright for one morsel 
 of meat. 
 
 These things, Young Men, are submitted for your most 
 serious consideration. Presume not upon long life. Mil- 
 lions die in youth every year. How know you that you will 
 not be included in the millions of this year } You are in 
 robust health. What says the patriarch Job } " One dieth 
 in hu full strength^ Accident may crush you in a mo- 
 ment. Fever may seize you, and after a few days' delirium, 
 during which no place may be found for repentance, may 
 send you to the bar of God. Or the seeds of consumption 
 may already be sown and germinating in your frame. Death 
 may have selected you for his victim — the arrow may bo 
 fitted to the string — the aim taken — and the shaft about to 
 fly to its mark. Should you die as you now are, will yours 
 be the death of the religious or the irreligious young man .'* 
 Which } Let that question sink deeply into your heart. 
 
 H. Still it must be conceded to you that you may live ta 
 old age ; and we will now take up the other alternative, and 
 
342 THE YOUNG MAN's FRIEND. 
 
 suppose that this privilege, if privilege it may be called, will 
 be granted you. It shall be imagined that by the ordina- 
 tions of Providence you will number threescore years and 
 ten, or fourscore years. You will then have to review 
 LIFE. Memory will naturally revert to the past. Who 
 arrives at the top of a hill without turning to look back } 
 Who ends a long journey without reconsidering its incidents ? 
 And who comes to old age without some thoughts of the 
 years that have elapsed, and the scenes that have inter- 
 vened between infancy and senility } Memory cannot be 
 inoperative, unless indeed it has altogether perished amidst 
 the wreck of the faculties which old age sometimes produces. 
 It will look back — it must. What kind of an old age would 
 you like to have .'' How, and with what reflection and remini- 
 scences, would you wish to spend the close of life ? Would 
 you have it bright and serene, with pleasant and peaceful 
 recollections, and calm as summer evenings be ? Or cloudy, 
 dark, and stormy, by a painful retrospect, and a troubled 
 conscience.^ I am aware that there are some persons so 
 little given to reflection ; others so stupified by the paralysing 
 influence of old age ; and some so fully occupied to the last 
 with the pursuits and cares of this world, as to go out of life, 
 even at its most advanced period, without serious considera- 
 tion of either the past or the future. But what a melancholy 
 spectacle is an unreflecting old man — a human being coming 
 to the close of a long earthly existence, and yet not looking 
 back with the question, " How have I lived, and what have 
 I done with all those years which my Creator has given to 
 me !" These cases, however, one would hope, are compara* 
 tively few. 
 
 The retrospect of life is in every view of it a solemn affair ; 
 indeed, the most solemn this side the nccount to be rendered 
 
DTTNG EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 343 
 
 at the judgment-day. Each portion of existence as it passes, 
 every year, month, week, day, demands a restrospective 
 survey, with the question, " How has it been spent ?" How 
 much more a whole life ? Man has but one life on earth, 
 and that one can never be recalled, whatever mistakes may 
 have been made. Oh, what momentous interests are bound 
 up in that one life — and then it must all be accounted for to 
 God ! What an impressive spectacle is that of an old man 
 spending the evening of life in turning over the leaves of his 
 history, as they have been written on his memory, and read- 
 ing those records which are to be the ground of his condem- 
 nation or acquittal at the bar of God ; before which he must 
 soon take his stand. How solemn a position is it to be 
 placed where childhood, youth, manhood, and old age, with 
 all their good or evil, will pass before, not only the memory, 
 but the judgment and the conscience, in a series of dissolving 
 views. 
 
 Oh, how much is comprehended in the term of only one 
 man's lengthened existence ! How many, and what various, 
 and what momentous things, scenes, and events, pass before 
 the mind of the aged, in the review of earth's pilgrimage. 
 There is time, with all its scores of years, it hundreds of 
 months, its thousands of weeks, its myriads of days, to say 
 nothing of its minutes and moments. There is the end and 
 'purpose for which the whole was granted. There are all the 
 means of grace and the opportunities of salvation which have 
 been granted him ; the Bible, with all its doctrines and du- 
 ties, promises and precepts, invitations and threatenings ; 
 the thousands of Sabbaths, and sermons, and sacramental 
 secsous ; the instructions of parents, the counsels of friends, 
 the ministrations of the pastor, and the k oks cf the author ; 
 15* 
 
344 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 the strivings of God's Spirit, and the remonstrances of con- 
 science. There are all the opportunities of doing good and 
 getting good neglected or improved : all he has done, and 
 all he has not, which he might have done. There are the 
 sins or virtues of childhood, youth, manhood, and old age. 
 There is his conduct as a tradesman in getting money, whe- 
 ther by good or bad means. There is the manner in which 
 the relations of life have been discharged, and the behavio! 
 of the son, the brother, the husband, the father, the master, 
 or the servant. There is the use that has been made of 
 prosperity or adversity. There is his kindness or cruelty to 
 others. There is the manner in which he has disappointed 
 or realized the expectations that were formed concerning 
 him. There is the recollection of the temptations he has 
 thrown in the way of others, or that he may have been 
 exposed to himself, and which he has resisted or complied 
 with. What a landscape to look over — what a road to turn 
 back upon — what a scene to survey — what a history to be 
 read ! How much of all this is crowded into threescore 
 years and ten ! What an employment is the review of life ! 
 To spend the long evening of old age in conference with our 
 conscience over our past existence of probation, and our future 
 state of retribution ! What a life that ought to be, needs 
 be — how upright, holy, and useful — which is thus to rise up be- 
 fore us in old age, and which must according to its character, 
 be a source of comforting or tormenting recollections. Oh, lo 
 see the unrepented, unforgiven sins of threescore years and 
 ten occupying the lengthened space, and to hear voices 
 from witfein and from without, saying, " You have lost your 
 life — your soul — your Grod — your all !" 
 
 In that situation there will be many things that will 
 
DYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. i 45 
 
 appear to all alike. All will be impressed with the brevity 
 of life. All will echo the language of the apostle, " What is 
 our life ? It is even as a vapor that appeareth but a little 
 while, and straightway vanisheth away." All will lookback 
 upon a chequered scene of light and shade, though some 
 have had more light, and some more shade than others. All 
 will have proved more or less the uncertain and unsatisfying 
 nature of what is earthly, though some have made better use 
 than others of their knowledge. But still there is a strange 
 and melancholy diflference of character and of feelino- with 
 which the impressive survey of life is made. 
 
 Consider the infidel reviewing life : if indeed there be 
 a man who can persist in his creed of negations till he has 
 reached threescore years and ten. What has he to look 
 back upon ^ He has cut himself off from the prospect of 
 immortality, and reduced himself to the idea of a mere 
 ephemera, which having fluttered through his brief day, is 
 about to sink into the darkness and the sleep of eternal nif^-ht 
 — in short, into nothing. Behind him in the past is mere 
 animalism : before him in the future is annihilation. He • 
 has lived without faith, and is dying without hope. He 
 would have no God, and he will now have no heaven. Life 
 with him has been spent, what a vocation ! in persuading 
 himself, and endeavoring to persuade others, that man is 
 only a rational brute. He has worn out a long term of years 
 in hostility against the Bible, and in enmity to religion. He 
 has ever been at war with that which others have counted 
 their richest honor and their dearest bliss. His business, 
 delight, and endeayor, have been to oppose the Bible, to 
 dash the cup of consolation from the lips of the mourner — 
 to rob the widow of her last possession — to take from youth 
 
346 THE YOUNG MAN S FRIEND. 
 
 its safest guide, and from age its strongest prop. Hunn»iie 
 and beneficent purpose ! Admitting his infidelity were true, 
 it had been infinitely better it had been false. Miserable 
 man, to have grown grey in attempting to put out the light 
 of the moral sun, and to die after all in despair of accom- 
 plishing the object ; and to die, not without occasional and 
 horrible fears, and still more horrible forebodings, that he 
 has been fighting against God. May this dreadful retrospect 
 never be yours ! 
 
 Now contemplate the aged man of pleasure. And 
 here the picture shall be drawn from life, and shall be no 
 imaginary portrait. "*" You shall hear the testimony of one, 
 *' by whom the world with its fashions and its follies, its princi- 
 ples and its practices, has been proposed in form to English- 
 men, as the proper object of their attention and devotion. 
 Lord Chesterfield has avowed as much with respect to him- 
 self, and by his writings said in efiect to it, ' Save me, for thou 
 art my God.' He has tendered his assistance to act as priest 
 upon the occasion, and conduct the ceremonial. At the 
 close of life, however, his God he found was about to forsake 
 him, and therefore was forsaken by him. — You shall hear 
 some of his last sentiments and expressions, which have not 
 been hitherto, so far as I know, duly noticed and applied to 
 their use ; that of furnishing an antidote, and they do furnish 
 a very powerful one, to the noxious positions contained in 
 his volumes. They are well worthy your strictest atten- 
 tion. ' I have seen,' said this man of the world, ' the silly 
 rounds of business and pleasure, and have done with them 
 all. I have enjoyed all the pleasures of the world, and con- 
 
 * This has been given in one of my other works, but it is so appro- 
 priate and so striking, that I introduce it again here. 
 
DYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 34? 
 
 sequently known their futility, and do not regret their loss. I 
 appraise them at their real value, which is in truth very low 
 whereas those who have not experienced always overrate 
 them. They only see their gay outside, and are dazzled with 
 their glare : but I have been behind the scenes. I have seen 
 all the coarse puUies and dirty ropes which exhibit and move 
 the gaudy machines : and I have seen and smelt the tallow 
 candles, which illuminate the whole decoration to the astonish- 
 ment and admiration of an ignorant audience. When I reflect 
 back upon what I have seen, what I have heard, and what I 
 have done, I can hardly persuade myself that all that frivolous 
 hurry, and bustle, and pleasure of the world had any reality ; 
 but I look upon all that has passed as one of those romantic 
 dreams which opium commonly occasions ; and I by no 
 means desire to repeat the nauseous dose for the sake of the 
 fugitive dream. Shall I tell you that I bear this melancholy 
 situation with that meritorious constancy and resignation 
 which most people boast of.? No, for I really cannot help 
 it. I bear it because I must bear it, whether I will or no. 
 I think of nothing but killing time the best way I can, now 
 that he has become mine enemy. It is my resolution to 
 sleep in the carriage during the remainder of the journey.' 
 
 " When a Christian priest speaks slightingly of the world, 
 he is supposed to do so in the way of his profession, and to 
 decry through envy, the pleasures he is forbidden to taste. 
 But here I think you have the testimony of a witness every 
 way competent. No man ever knew the world better, or 
 enjoyed more of its favors, than this nobleman. Yet you 
 sec in how poor, abject, and wretched a condition, at the 
 time when he most wanted help and comfort, the world loft 
 him, and he left the world. The sentences above cited from 
 him compose, in my humble opinion, the most striking and 
 
348 
 
 affecting sermm upon the vanity of the world, ever yet 
 preached to mankind."* Such was the confession in his old 
 age, to a son, that afterwards died by his own hand, of Lord 
 Chesterfield, the oracle of English gaiety and manners 
 Would you spend the evening of life thus ? 
 
 You may now turn to the old age of the unreclaimed 
 PRODIGAL. He who in youth settled to no business, exer- 
 cised no virtue, feared not God, nor regarded man ; but 
 bursting through the restraints of parental authority, tramp- 
 ling under foot the laws of prudence and morality, gave him- 
 self up to the indulgences of passion, and plunged into the 
 depths of vice. Such was his youth. His manhood was 
 little better, and with the addition of being a constant struggle 
 against the poverty and want which were the consequences 
 of his misconduct. The wonder is that he lived so long ; 
 that human nature could sustain and survive what he had 
 passed through. The wintry season has come upon him, 
 and oh, what a winter — how bleak and desolate ? In his cir- 
 cumstances, how deplorable necessitous — in his mind how 
 intolerably wretched ! In some cases the poor creature is 
 dependent upon the bounty of friends — bounty never bestowed 
 liut with rrductance, because bestowed upon one so unworthy, 
 and rather flung at him in anger, than given with courtesy 
 ;md kindness : in other instances, he is driven to the neces- 
 sity of picking up, by various mean and discreditable artifices, 
 a haid and precarious living. Destitute of all but necessa- 
 ries, and having few comparatively of these, his miserable 
 existence seems protracted for no purpose but to show what 
 a wtetched old age is made by vicious youth. To him 
 appertains the language of one of Job's friends, " His bonoa 
 are full of the sins nf his youth, which shall lie down with 
 ' Bishop Home's Sermons. 
 
DYING EARLY, OR LIVIXJ TO REVIEW LIFE. 349 
 
 him in the dust." Job xx. 11. But his poverty is the least 
 part of his misery, for he has, and can have, no peace of 
 mind. When he reflects at all, his thoughts prey like vul- 
 tures upon his peace, which he is unable to drive away from 
 their dreadful meal. For him the retrospect is indeed most 
 painful. Life with him has been worse than a blank. On 
 what a dark and windino; course has he to turn his afFi iijhted 
 gaze. What follies and what sins meet his eye at every 
 turn. Childhood, youth, and manhood, are all alike distress- 
 ing in retrospect. Not one bright and verdant spot presents 
 itself to his survey in either. Oh that some oblivious draught 
 could blot the whole from recollection, and that with the 
 recollections of the past, could be extinguished the anticipa- 
 tions of the future. He is as little respected by others as he 
 respects himself. No eye beams upon him with affection, no 
 countenance greets him with a smile, no voice addresses to 
 him the language of respect, no heart yields to him its sym- 
 pathy, no door is thrown open to welcome him. He is an 
 outcast from society, a burden to his friends, if he has any 
 left, a torment to hiuiself, and a nuisance to the earth on 
 which he walks. He is one of sin's most miserable slaves — - 
 one of Satan's most degraded vassals, — and one of hell's 
 most legitimate victims. Of all the spectacles upon earth, 
 the most melancholy, therefore, is such a wicked old man. 
 Look at it, my young friends, and tremble. 
 
 I next exhibit the aged worldling, the man who has lived 
 exclusively for wealth, who has realized his wishes, and who 
 spends the evening of his life in thinking upon his treasures, 
 and the toil and anxiety it has cost him to acquire them. 
 And what are his reflections. In some cases, I have no 
 doubt, there is a feeling of gratification at his success. He 
 
350 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 traces his gradual rise and prosperity in life with gleeful 
 delight, and compares himself with other less happy adven- 
 turers. His imagination revels in his wealth, and he thinks 
 how much he is leaving to his heirs. Poor creature, and 
 this is all ! No gratitude to God — no recollection of money 
 got by his blessing, or spent for his glory — no testimony of his 
 conscience, that he has honored God with his substance — 
 no pleasurable reminiscences of the good he has done with 
 his property — no expectation of hearing God say to him, 
 "Well done, good and faithful servant." No, nothing but 
 the reflection that he has been what the world calls a fortu- 
 nate man, and has amassed so many thousand pounds. 
 what a bald, meagre, and wretched retrospect — that he has 
 scraped together so much money, and will be said whenever 
 he quits the world, to have died rich ! 
 
 But there are others whose thoughts go deeper than all 
 this, and who can be scarcely said to be privileged with so 
 much insensibility. Their review is far more painful, when, 
 as is sometimes the case, their folly in living only to get 
 money comes out to view. " 1 have been successful," they 
 say, " I have worked hard, even as I have lived long ; and 
 have been a thriving man. I shall certainly leave much 
 behind, but what is it now to me. I am an old man, and 
 must soon be a dying man. I am not permitted to remain 
 with it, nor can I take it with me. The only pleasure now 
 left me, is to say whose it shall be when I am gone. Is it 
 for this I have lived and labored ? Have I not been tab 
 busy in getting wealth, either to enjoy it, or to employ it ? 
 Have I not laid up treasure on earth, instead of heaven ? 
 Have I not been so much taken up for myself, as to forget 
 jod and my fellow-creatures ? Am I prepared to give an 
 
DYING EARLT, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 351 
 
 account of this property ? Have I not too much reason to 
 ask the solemn question, ' What shall it profit a man if he 
 gain the whole world and lose his own soul, or what shall a 
 man give in exchange for his soul ? Can I not, do I not 
 enter painfully into Solomon's experience, when in disgust 
 and penitence he looked backed, and seeing the sins, the 
 follies, and pleasures of his apostacy, exclaimed, ' Vanity of 
 vanities', all is vanity.'''' 
 
 Would you spend old age in indulging such reflections.? 
 Is this the retrospect you would have ? 
 
 We present one more character looking back upon life's 
 eventful journey, and that is — the aged Christian. He 
 too reviews life, and with adoring wonder, gratitude, and joy. 
 He has no fear of the past — no dread of the future. How 
 calm and how peaceful are his reflections. How pleasant is 
 the retrospect, and how much more bright and glorious the 
 prospect, " Blessed," he exclaims, " be the God and Father 
 of our Lord Jesus Christ, who hath led and guarded me all 
 my life ; who was the Gruide of my youth, the Benefactor of 
 my manhood, and is now the Supporter of my old age. I 
 adore him with unutterable gratitude for calling me early by 
 his grace, to be a partaker of true religion, which has been 
 a source of happiness, a means of prosperity, and an instru- 
 ment of usefulness to me through a long and chequered life. 
 Through Divine goodness, I have been kept from vice and 
 folly, and have risen to respectability and usefulness ; and I 
 owe it all to religion. I have corrupted none by infidel 
 principles, nor seduced any from the path of integrity by 
 immoral conduct ; but on the contrary, while I am deeply 
 humbled that I have not better improved my opportunities 
 and my talents, I hope I have done some good by my ex- 
 ample, my property, and my prayers. Life with me has ni>t 
 
352 THE YOUNG man's friend. 
 
 been a blank either as regards myself or others. I kno^ 
 that as a man, and a sinful man, I must rely for salvation 
 exclusively upon the infinite merit of the Saviour — but still 
 as a Christian I rejoice to be able to say, * I have fought a 
 good fight ; I have finished my course ; I have kept the 
 faith. Henceforth there is laid up for me a crown of life 
 which God the righteous Judge will bestow upon me in that 
 day.' Providence has given me a long life, and grace has 
 mfide it a comfortable and, I hope, a useful one : and now I 
 can lay it willingly down under the influence of a hope full 
 of immortality." Venerable saint. " Thy hoary head is a 
 crown of glory, being found in the way of righteousness." 
 
 " Time that doth all things else impair, 
 Still makes thee flourish strong and fair," 
 
 How cloudless and majestic is thy setting sun. Recollecting 
 thy holy, blameless, and useful life, all respect, and many 
 love thee. The young delight to show thee reverence, and 
 the aged, to manifest esteem. 
 
 My young friends, which of these characters would you 
 be in the evening of life } What kind of old man would you 
 be .? With what class of these reflections would you survey 
 life from the extreme verge of your terrestrial existence ? 
 How would you look forward to eternity at the close of a 
 protracted existence } With the dread of punishment for all 
 the unpardoned sins of threescore years and ten ; or with 
 the anticipation of the gracious rewards for all the holy 
 actions of that long period .? 
 
 Life is before you now. Ask the question seriously, 
 solemnly, frequently, " What is my life? Soon it will be 
 behind you. Consider it well — its chief purpose — its brevity 
 — its uncertainty — the smallness of its available portion for 
 
BYING EARLY, OR LIVING TO REVIEW LIFE. 353 
 
 any useful end — its relative proportion to eternity, and its 
 moral influence and bearing wpon eternity. Life is froba,' 
 tionary^ and the ichole of probation. All that follows be- 
 longs to retribution. It is the causal period, and the only 
 period of causation. Every thing beyond is effect. It is 
 the little pivot of existence, on which turns the immense and 
 immeasurable whole. It is ;pre'paratory. Here we sow — 
 here we are always sowing — and we sow only here. Here- 
 after we reap, and shall for ever do nothing but reap. It is 
 an accoimiable term — the basis of judgment — the only part 
 of duration that is to be specifically accounted for. Though 
 we shall be accountable beings as long as we exist, yet it is 
 this short prefatory portion of our accountable existence 
 that is to determine the character of all the rest. The actions 
 of this little life are empowered to decide for eternity. This 
 is a consideration of unparalleled power and weight. Let it 
 be contemplated and felt. We a.re acting for eternity. 
 Ages of retribution answering to this hour of -probation. 
 How circumspectly then ought we to live ! If such be the 
 consequences of life, how frugal ought we to be of its mo- 
 ments, A little care and effort now, and all will be safe for 
 ever. A little providence and painstaking, through the 
 short period of your earthly existence, and you will hav« 
 made your fortune for immortality. 
 
 How momentous then is life ! How important to think 
 of this when it is commencing. Who should not prepare to 
 live .'* What a solemn exercise to review life at its close. 
 Life — the day of salvation — the harbinger of death — the 
 season of grace for the soul — the matter of judgment — the 
 preparation for eternity — the opportunity for heaven — the 
 pathway to hell. To review life — first to ask ourselves, 
 *' What have I done with life ?" and then almost immedi- 
 
354 THE YOUNG MAn's FRIEND. 
 
 atelj afterwards to hear God saying, " What hast thou don© 
 with life ?" 
 Behold the Judge standeth at the door. And 
 
 " This is the summons that he brings — 
 Awake ! for on this transient hottr^ 
 Thy long eternity depend*. 
 
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 CHARLES ROUSSEL ; or, Honesty and Industry 40 
 
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 CHEEVEE'S Lectures on the Pilgrim's Progress. Illus. 12mo. 100 
 
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 CHJLDS' Own Siory Look. Square 50 
 
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 CLARA STANLEY ; or, A Summer Among the Hills 50 
 
 CLAREMONT Tales (The). Illustrated. 18mo 50 
 
 CLARK'S (Rev. John A.) Walk about Zion. 12mo 75 
 
 Pastor's Teslimony 75 
 
 ■ Awake, Thou Sleeper 75 
 
 ■ Young Disciple 88 
 
 Gathered Fragments 1 00 
 
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 (' I ' VEER'S (Rev. T. L.) Stray Arrows. New edition 10 
 
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 Do. do. Svo. Complete in 1 vol 1 5:i 
 
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 • — Authority of God. 16mo 75 
 
CARTERS' PUBLICATIONS. 
 
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 Do. ISmo. Good type. Plain sheep 88 
 
 Do. 4Smo. Very neat pocket edition. Sheep 2Q 
 
 Do. " " " morocco 25 
 
 Do. " " " gilt edges.. 81 
 
 Do. " " " tucks 50 
 
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 D 0. " " " morocco, gilt 1 25 
 
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 . Lectures on Acts. Svo 150 
 
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 DODDPJDGE'S Else and Progress. ISmo 40 
 
 Life of Colonel Gardiner. ISmo 80 
 
 DEUMMOND'S (Mrs.) Emily Vernon. A Tale. 16mo 75 
 
 (Eev. D. T. K.) on the Parables. Svo 
 
 DUNCAN'S (Eev. Dr.) Sacred Philosophy of the Seasons. 2 vols. 2 50 
 
 Life, by his Son. "With portrait. 12mo 75 
 
 Tales of the Scottish Peasantry. ISmo. Illustrated 50 
 
 Cottage Fireside. ISmo. Illustrated 40 
 
 (Mrs.) Life of Mary Lundie Duncan. 16mo 75 
 
 ■ Life of George A. Lundie. ISmo 50 
 
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 America as I Found It 1 00 
 
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 EVIDENCES of Christianity— University of Virginia. 8vo.... 2 50 
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 FOLLOW Jesus. By the author of " Come to Jesus" 25 
 
 FOED'S Decapolis. ISrao 25 
 
■"I'm I ni 1 1''*^°'°""' Sertipnary-Speer Library 
 
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