/ate anfo m in llrtarms anft JUformer*. 
 
 AN 
 
 ADDRESS 
 
 DELIVERED BEFORE THE 
 
 O F 
 
 ELDERSRIDGE ACADEMY, 
 
 October 1st, 185O, 
 
 JAMES B. P. ROBINSON, ESQ. 
 
 OF GREENSBURflH, PA. 
 
 PUBLISHED BY BEQUEST. 
 
 PITTSBURGH: 
 
 PR1XTF.D BY SHRYOCK & H AfKE, CORNER OF WOOD ANT> THIRT) STREETS. 
 
 1 350.
 
 THE 
 
 FALSE AND TRUE 
 
 IN 
 
 REFORMS AND REFORMERS. 
 
 The Reforming idea may be said to be one of the distinguishing 
 characteristics of the human race. The wish, impetuous often in its 
 xvarmth, conjoined with an ability to carry it out, to break away from 
 the old, whether error or merely something indifferent, and take hold 
 of and embrace the new, coming, as it may, with blessed gifts for 
 them, is a controlling impulse in human hearts. Man is ever flying, or, 
 with strong effort, attempting to fly from the bad and unpleasant, and 
 instead thereof taking to him the better, wherever he may find it. This 
 may arise, in a measure, from the same searching and curious spirit that is 
 forever striving to discover and drag to light the hitherto unknown and 
 hidden. A man, any one of men, may not have rest, he cannot lie down 
 and sleep, if some recent and novel brightness, be it star or glow-worm, 
 has inspired wonder within him. At least, he may not go to his slumbers, 
 before that strange thing, at which his gaze is turned, has been spoken to 
 by him, and in reply has taught him of its being and its life. If he put 
 up a house to dwell in, (to speak of the lower developments of the 
 same principle,) it must be a better one than the old; more comfortable 
 in its arrangement; more pleasant in its site; something of more beauty 
 for the gazer's eye. The spirit of improvement has shown itself forth. 
 Old things have passed away. Here man differs from the rest of the 
 earthly creations. The sparrow's house and the swallow's nest, that 
 were long ago found upon God's altars, amid the Judean hills, were 
 quite as good as those where their young ones nestle now. The beaver 
 builds his dam and clay hut now where the Oregon floods pour down; 
 he did the same ages ago, when this earth was young. Generation 
 after generation of these lower animals come and go, but, neither 
 individually nor in the mass, can they be distinguished, fellow from 
 fellow, or age from age.
 
 ;',. V 
 v ' 
 
 [ 4 ] 
 
 But it is not so much of all this that we would speak here. It is 
 more of the reforming principle, in the general acceptation of the 
 term. Something higher than what is seen in the change in form of dead 
 matter only. Not the improvement merely, that gives more of comfort 
 and heauty, if you will, to the habitations of men, as house after house 
 goes up; that lays out its garden spots, and gives to them flowers and 
 pleasant plants, where all was wild and uncultivated before. 
 
 In these years, when men are so eager in their search for something 
 better; so restless in their present places, when any cry from the 
 seeming and would be pioneers in advancement calls them to come up 
 higher; it is a good thing to examine and ascertain whither, if we do 
 start forth, our footsteps may carry us. It is good for our safety and 
 happiness, to try the spirits that would be our teachers, and if they 
 prove false and not true, to not only shrink from contact with them 
 ourselves, but show our brothers also the deception and have them 
 beware. This earthly life of ours has not too many years in its sum 
 total at longest, that we should chase phantoms, shadowy and unreal 
 when we reach forward for them; we have no days to waste in 
 experimenting here, if this can be at all avoided. The Reformer, 
 then, should come to his fellows in the carrying out of his mission, 
 with such tokens of his being Heaven-sent shining out from him, that 
 all might read them as they ran. Then would there be no lamenting 
 of disappointed ones along the way, that an arch-deceiver had been 
 leading them hitherto, and they knew it not. Then would every step 
 they made, every mountain height they scaled, every deep and black 
 gorge they leaped over, every wilderness place, with its savage beasts, 
 they traversed, bring them nearer to the new good for which they had 
 desire. There would be no stopping to calculate the chances of their 
 going backward and not forward. There would be no doubt that the 
 light their feet walked by was a true one, and not some glimmering 
 flame, shining for a time and then dying out forever. 
 
 And who can rightly estimate, if we may speak of this, the sadder 
 view of the thing presented, when the deceived love and cherish the 
 errors that are their leaders; when they sacrifice their all upon these 
 Moloch altars, getting no smile of goodness in return, and yet thinking 
 the work they do is God-bidden. The souls of these men have a 
 complete and total infatuation upon them; and no word of man can call 
 them back; no voice from human lips, saying to them 'Come away, 
 these are barren mountains and desert sands that your bleeding and 
 torn feet are pressing,' will have power enough to make them turn again. 
 No arm on this earth can stretch to them and snatch them from the 
 ruin. They have become headstrong. The creed of their faith has 
 become a passion within them. A strong door shuts up the way to 
 their reason, and thither you cannot enter. What a state to be in !
 
 f 5 ] 
 
 Blind yet they boastfully cry out, our vision is strong, it brings us in 
 sights from afar. Without hearing they tell us of strange and sweet 
 music, that rings evermore in their ears and far down in their hearts. 
 Tasteless they speak of luscious fruits and nectarine drinks, which, 
 from time to time, the angels give them to feed upon. Senseless, all 
 and throughout they think the world besides dead and being carried 
 to the burial; and would have the bier stop, till they awaken the sleeping 
 one, and give him of their life. Here, then, may we gather a lesson. 
 Such truths become our teachers. If there be in human breasts that 
 weakness to run after an error having semblance of truth, and a 
 rashness and impetuosity there, too, that make the first choice the 
 unalterable resolution of an iron will, it is surely good to preach to all 
 men that in this matter they should be watchful and prayerful. 
 
 We, often and often, are deceived by a too great reliance upon our 
 own bravery; upon our own mental resources and wits, in the difficult 
 passages of life. We too frequently act upon an impulse and not upon 
 a reflection; upon a first thought and not upon a second or a third one. 
 And thus acting upon it, that impulse will, by and by, be as strong and 
 firmly foundationed as the most deliberate decision of the judgment. 
 If men always thought before they worked; if they studied the idea 
 that flashes upon them, before they lay it away in memory as a belief, 
 forever, and before they shout it forth from the high places as one of 
 the truths that the wise ones of the past long waited for, but never saw; 
 if they followed not so blindly and wildly the new, because of its 
 newness, at the very first call thereto, this life's sea would be a far less 
 billowy and boisterous one; the timbers of wrecked ships, and the 
 sailors' bleaching bones would not be strewn along its shores so thickly. 
 Oh, if Fancy could make a world in full life, as she has many a time in 
 picture, and plant upon it her men and women and little ones, what a 
 thing of beauty would it not be, shining and pure, as it sailed, like a 
 star about its sun ! What strong and calm minds, and what great and 
 loving hearts, and what faces, gleaming like an angel's, would the 
 people not be gifted withal ! 
 
 But we must not let imagination be our guide here. We have a 
 world, tangibly real, upon which we and our fellows are dwellers. 
 When, therefore, we go out thereon to talk about the proprieties of 
 changes, or the non-proprieties, we must look upon men as they are, 
 and not as we would have them. We must speak to them with an 
 ever fresh remembrence that they, the taught, and we, the teachers, 
 are both full of weaknesses and sins. The endeavor should be to have 
 men keep their minds open until all the truth about any proposition has 
 been received by them, and then call upon their judgment for its 
 decision. In such case, it could not otherwise happen but that the
 
 [ 6 ] 
 
 conclusions come to would tend infinitely more to the just and correct 
 than we now find them. 
 
 Coolness in the hour of sudden and dangerous exigency has, more 
 than once in every man's life, proven itself his salvation. The tempter, 
 as he walks through the world, will always be careful in the distribution 
 and presentation of his lures, when the one to be led astray is sure to 
 be found watchful and on his guard. Where the pace of the sentinel is 
 heard upon the castle wall, and the soldier within has his armor about 
 him, whether awake or asleep, the assailant will long deliberate before 
 he rushes to the attack. Now, if this were impressed deeply upon 
 men's minds, namely, that they must never receive as their standing 
 creed, on the first introduction, too, the wild views of things that meet 
 them at every turn, the seeming Reformer would find his labor but an 
 irksome task, and the fruits thereof not worthy to be gathered home. 
 Idol and image may he set up in some Dura-plain, and call upon the 
 multitudes to fall down and worship them, but their one response, "we 
 are not careful to answer thee in this matter," will be his reply. There 
 would then be far less wandering after vanities and trifles, light as air. 
 There would then be less plucking of the Dead Sea apple, to find 
 when the tooth has pierced it, that it leaves ashes only on the lip. 
 
 We may here notice a class of men, made up of numbers, too, that 
 is forever babbling of change and Reform. They hate and despise 
 the old merely because it is old; because, far back, other hands and 
 other minds labored in its construction. Without an eye to see anything 
 wholly new, they hesitate not to inflict their changes upon the old. 
 They tell us, this old plan of things works well enough; with its 
 performance of duty we have no controversy. But the spirit of the 
 age demands something fresher; something that smacks not so much of 
 the far by-past years. The men, now-a-days, are on the run in their 
 course. Onward ! onward ! is the cry that goes up from all lips. 
 The venerable, and the solemn, and the grand of the gone days; the 
 fondly loved and cherished of their fathers; the shrines upon which 
 those old men hung their garlands, and before which they prayed; this 
 age cares not for these; sheds no tear as its foot tramples them; makes 
 bonfires of them, and with shoutings of "the new, the new," dances 
 gleefully about them as they burn. This is the appetite, and shall we 
 not give heed to its cravings for food 1 Thitherward is the rush of the 
 people, and shall we not, if need be, cut passages for them through the 
 hills 1 They will be reaching for the stars presently, we know, and 
 when that day comes we will give them stars, if stars are to be had. 
 Such is the manner of excuse these men will give you, if they deem it 
 necessary to say anything in vindication of themselves. 
 
 But, is it proper to thus trifle with souls, to thus fritter away and 
 waste time, to thus encourage men to leave the good they have, and
 
 [ 7 J 
 
 feverishly and hurriedly to press on to a good they know nothing of? 
 Is it a good thing to call gray-haired wisdom, merely because of his 
 hoary locks and his tottering footsteps, foolish and vain and not worthy 
 of belief? Is it a thing for happiness and life, to shut up forever the 
 Bible, and take lessons in such great matters from these runners as 
 they fly? Is this taste of men that you would forever gratify, always a 
 natural and holy desire? v No, no. These men, however much they may 
 have faith in their own sincerity and righteousness, are doing sin. Their 
 striving to have themselves looked upon as reformers, as workers for 
 the good, is a false thing. When such ones come to you to make 
 proselytes, tell them that you cannot go with them in this seeming 
 advance after good, when, indeed, it may be a going back instead. 
 You will do well to be conservative here. 
 
 This sort of false change and Reform makes itself visible frequently 
 in young legislators. Certainly it does in those wishing the good 
 opinion of their fellow men, in anticipation of some legislative day yet 
 to come. A long time ago the wisest and the best were the lawmakers 
 of kingdoms and republics. The work was one at which experience 
 and ability toiled, and found it no children's frolic. It was a labor 
 when the arm of the stripling was too weak to be a helper. But now, 
 in this fast age, this age when shows and phantasms and desert mirages 
 are leading men away on all sides, the legislator whose hobby is change, 
 may get on well enough, faster and further than his betters. There 
 is a show of wisdom about him. He is not satisfied, at all events, 
 with things as they are. He would do something to hasten on the good 
 time that is to come. A shadowy banner, as of a leader, is waving 
 above him, and, if after it the giddy, and the idle, and the thoughtless 
 stumble along, it is enough. The show is still there, and he seems to be 
 the chieftain of an embattled host. Alas ! alas ! That in this world the 
 show and the reality are so often confounded ! That the shadow is so 
 frequently knelt down to, while the substance to which prayer is made 
 is far away ! That the false and the bad man can so easily wrap 
 himself about with Truth's garments, and laugh, it may be, that no one 
 detects the counterfeit ! 
 
 Again, upon a wider field may we see this pursuit after what is false; 
 false, in this case, because the change sought for cannot be found. In 
 revolutionary times, when the change Struggled for has a nation for its 
 subject, the thing aimed at is a better condition, or is supposed to be, 
 than what they are leaving behind. Then there are troops of Reformers 
 and leaders, who promise to the masses many and blessed things. We 
 have ourselves seen, or read of nations, who, in their wild and stormy 
 pursuit of the good and true, as they supposed, used some rallying cry 
 of this sort "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity." Their aims were 
 embodied in that cry. But what a grasping at the impossible and
 
 [ 8 3 
 
 unattainable was this ! How surely were these men lifting up a hope, 
 like a standard to be gazed at and fought after, that the enthralled and 
 enslaved ones could never realize, even when the chains that fettered 
 them were gone ! See the end of it. Their revolutionary battles have 
 been fought. The fields where the fights with the tyrants came off, are 
 yet red with their mingled blood. The foot-falls of the thrown out 
 lords and rulers are yet heard from afar, as they hurry to some covert 
 from the storm. Peace has again fluttered down to earth, and that 
 wearied land has smiled its welcome to her as she came. And yet, 
 after all, they have not won the prize struggled for with such high 
 anticipations as their torn and dust-stained flags can testify. They are 
 not brothers all, neither are they all equal, each man with his fellow. 
 They aimed at too much. They could find, nowhere, a promise of 
 success in such a conflict. They are still men of passions; of human 
 hates as well as human loves; now, as they were before their feet 
 trampled into dust the throne. No their battle cry and their dear 
 hopes were, as the end showed, delusory and false; made up of such 
 stuff as life's mockeries and vainest dreams are. 
 
 In the attainment of their ends, too, how often do we find these 
 false men utterly regardless of the means they use \ In their chase of 
 some fancied good thing-, (and, indeed, the endeavor after real good, is 
 cursed in the same way,) they hesitate not to cast from them, with 
 revilings, the rich legacies of past wisdom. They stop not to count the 
 cost. They look not down to see in what crooked ways their feet are 
 walking. But, with their eye upon the distant glimmer of light, as 
 they suppose, they march on, rejaicing only in the result they anticipate. 
 Let the end come somehow. They will not scan the means too narrowly. 
 Bloodshed and stormy days will come, we say to these men. They 
 reply, be it so. The tempest will not last forever, and when it is 
 overpast, then will the eternal stars and heaven's blue again shine 
 down more brightly than ever through the riven darkness. See, what 
 desert places you will make. True; but the flowers and green things 
 will spring to a far richer life and beauty where the desolation and the 
 ruin swept. Look at the death you will scatter upon the sea. We 
 know it; but away yonder, where ship after ship is foundering and 
 going down, presently, when the calm has come, will other barks, 
 laden with costlier treasures and sweeter blessings, sail hither and 
 thither, and know nothing of disaster or wreck. And what a thing of 
 wickedness is this ! It has, indeed, come to pass that they do evil that 
 good may come. Although the Providence, the Power that rules the 
 earth and has no rival, does again and again, nay, always and forever, 
 bring out glorious things as offspring from the lowest and meanest 
 maternities; yet, we may safely say, that man himself can find, neither 
 in Heaven nor on the earth; his right to be the willing and foreseeing
 
 I 9 J 
 
 agent of that Higher One, in these things. No matter what wisdom he 
 may possess, h may not do so. Indeed, the more truly wise he is, 
 the more certainly will he see the utter horribleness and deadly sin of 
 such course, 
 
 A Reformation in this world is not brought about in a day in the 
 twinkling of an eye. It is not a mere from-sun-to-sun work, and then 
 the worker or workers may lie down to rest, saying, "It is done." 
 The life of one generation is not long enough, often, for such a purpose. 
 That which follows may toil in the same field with results; may gather 
 home many fruits. Men part not from old friends except with tears 
 and troubled spirits. There is somewhat abroad, at such times, that 
 an be seen and felt. A Reformation is not accomplished without 
 much overturning and, for a time, confusion and uncertainty; frightful 
 jarrings and conflicts very possibly. At such times it is that "deep 
 calleth unto deep. Anything of change will be accompanied by such 
 attendants. How important is it then, that these overturnings and 
 troublous times should be for good 1 What a sorrow is it that after all 
 the result has proven a bitter mockery, and that alone] That nothing at 
 all worth the outlay has been garnered up 1 That after this painful 
 and fearful winnowing, no piles of yellow wheat are ready for the 
 storehouses? How sad a picture to gaze upon, when a land has been* 
 in tears long on account of strugglings and bitter strifes; when the fields 
 have forgotten their harvest times, and the vineyards have been bathed 
 in blood before the vintage; andystthe moral aspect is no better than 
 before, when all was peaceful and full of quiet life ? It would be well 
 for those who so much trouble the world for nothing; who are forever 
 stumbling upon imaginary wrongs that must be made right; who are so- 
 fiery and loud-mouthed in their preaching; so anxious and restless till 
 they have the war begun; to reflect and meditate long before they give 
 life to these tumults; to supplicate Heaven for some command to go on 
 before they rack earth with convulsions. Here, indeed, there can be 
 no danger of taking too much care. We cannot be too prodigal of our 
 moments of deliberation. We cannot call too loudly and importunately 
 upon all that is within us, of thought and wisdom and foresight, to be 
 our counsellors. 
 
 Those, whose common appellation is, fanatics, are likely the worst 
 men, as a general thing, that this moral world of ours has to do with. 
 To them is the idea of an erring humanity, as applicable to themselves, 
 altogether unknown. And to men whose motto is, "Truth must 
 prevail," and who believe themselves alone the champions of tkat 
 truth, we cannot think it strange that nothing seems a hard service; 
 we wonder not that they will go to monstrous lengths in furtherance of 
 their views. They have a great work to do, and they must give 
 themselves wholly to it, regardless of anything besides. Agitation
 
 [ 10 ] 
 
 and excitement are the food they live on; they find disease anil death 
 in all other feeding. These men have been found, in all ages, to be 
 fearful troubles in the world. The world could have spared them well; 
 would have felt no sense of loss had they not been born. 
 
 But it is time that we say a word or two about the character of the 
 true Reformers. And here we may gaze upon a aifrer picture. If we 
 be not wholly bad, we may find delight in the view that will be a fitting 
 recompense. And yet, that joy is many times changed to grief, as we 
 turn from the contemplation of the man himself, and look upon the 
 record that tells of his success. It is so brief, so unsatisfactory, 
 Nay, there may be no record, for he has achieved nothing. Though 
 the seed was thrown out broad-cast, yet the stones, whereon it fell 
 have given him back no harvest. 
 
 Perhaps the most striking dissimilarity between the true and the 
 false man is, that the latter takes with his fellow men quickly; the other 
 not till after long years of labor. He may die before the day of his 
 acceptation comes. This, probably, arises from the fact that the false 
 man adapts his views to mankind as he finds them. There is little 
 cutting offor adding to in order to make a man fit the measure he applies- 
 to him. It requires little effort to follow such a leader. The paths 
 are not more difficult, though new ones, than those his feet walked in 
 before. In the other case, the true Reformer has his standard of 
 measurement, without regard at all to whether, if he went out to see, 
 he could find any one that would fill it when applied to him. There 
 is pruning, and adding to, and changing with him, no matter to whom 
 his visit is made. His object is not to have troops of disciples flock to 
 him. He is the disseminator of truth, whether men will hear or forbear. 
 He never prostitutes his high purpose to a venal popularity. He 
 courts not the world's smile. He deprecates not the world's scorn 
 and contumely. He differs from the other here. 
 
 The true Reformer panders not to the vitiated tastes of men. He 
 denies them, bluntly and manfully, when their wishes are unholy and 
 corrupt. If they ask for a scorpion, he boldly tells them, they can 
 have none, either now or in all time to come, if he can help it. Do 
 they desire a stone; they get none from him, though they plead for it 
 fervently. No words of pleasantry or flattering speech will have 
 power to alter his resolution. No threatenings or menaces of hurt will 
 intimidate or make him afraid. There is no changing of position with 
 every wind. No turning to catch the sun's smile. No shifting about 
 to shun the peltings of the storm, when it rages high. God above has 
 pointed out away for him to walk in, and he feels that it will be wo 
 and death to him if he turns aside. What a contrast to the time-servers 
 is he in this ? Again, it is not for notoriety that he lives. He is no 
 worshipper of the fickle goddess. Fame may come to him, and, as
 
 [ 11 J 
 
 she sits by him, may tell of great names this earth will not forget; may 
 tell of a roll upon which they are written for an everlasting memorial. 
 These are his days of temptation. The syren is singing sweetly now. 
 Our wonder is, that he sinks not to her embrace, and is lost. But, no; 
 these plaudits, and huzzas, and strewing of pathways with flowers, 
 which the idle and the vain love, he never dreams of, as he walks* 
 He will likely never get such favors, indeed; although, after all, earth 
 may have no nobler son, none that should have her remembrance so 
 long and so ever fresh. 
 
 As far up, too, in the scale of virtues as aught else, he is no selfish 
 man. He would do good to all as he has opportunity. His own 
 comfort, in opposition to duty, he will cry "avaunt" to, and will have 
 none of it. Like the Pagan devotees, he will afflict himself with knives 
 and the lash, if thereby others are saved from suffering. No limits 
 can be marked down, that his love will not overleap. There are' no 
 bounds, like the seas have, to his philanthropy, at which he may be 
 stayed. If, after having made happy forever this world, some other 
 lost sphere, in its circlings through space, should come near to earth and 
 cry aloud for helpers and saviors, his voice would be first and loudest 
 in replying, "we come." Nay, nay; were the "dim, discrowned, and 
 tarnished armies" of the abyss itself to look farup to him where he stood, 
 and beckon to him to save, his hand would stretch itself forth to snatch 
 them thence, and make them again angels in the Paradise of God. 
 
 Moreover, he is a man of great penetration and much prudence. 
 He sees hearts in faces, as he passes among his fellows. Above all, he 
 knows when hearts speak to him, whether in sorrow or in joy. He 
 never lets zeal for his duty consume him, and thus give offence. He 
 runs into no crowded places, to there prate of his calling in wild 
 phrase and frantic gesture. He gives no occasion that others should 
 name him madman and fool. The world may not follow after him in 
 crowds, and pray for seats about his feet when he teaches; but it will 
 not be so ready, on the other hand, to scoff at him and make a by-word 
 of his name. He knows his business well. He pours no oil upon the 
 flames; nor does he withhold it from the waters, when the winds dash 
 the stars with waves. He walks the earth to bless it, and he knows 
 when, and where, and how to use the means. 
 
 This man we speak of is a working man, too. What he finds to do, 
 he does with a will and with his might. He labors not for wages 
 which the rust will eat or the thieves steal away. His reward is a 
 high one; a glorious prize and remuneration; and he knows well that, 
 sooner or later, it will be his. A crown, a palm branch, a banner of 
 triumph it may be; but, whatever, he abides its coming patiently. And 
 for all this we should love him. In this he should be an exemplar and 
 a pattern to us all. To work is man's lot here; his lieritnoo; his high
 
 [ 12 ] 
 
 and deligatful privilege, if we can see it in that light. There is no 
 time for idleness. There is no room for the idle ones. We ought to 
 be busy and at our labor from the cradle to the grave. Oh ! if at this 
 hour, we could pass on, with imagination for guide, and stand with her 
 by the couch side, whether many years hence or soon, when we 
 ourselves were laid down to die, what lamentations over mis-spent 
 time would not break from our pale lips ! What regrets, now fruitless, 
 that we had not worked before the night came on ! How golden 
 would not be the long past and neglected moments ! What calls to 
 duty would they not utter as they sped away ! This is no slight eulogy, 
 to say of any man he is a worker. 
 
 It may be thought, that is all too perfect. That this blinded world 
 has, in all its time, known no such guide. Without admitting the truth 
 of this, we sayj be it so; but still, the one we pattern after should be a 
 perfect being, though our following may only be afar off. If he be on 
 the mountain-top, with the light about him, like a glory, let our 
 endeavor be to stand beside him there, though we never reach further 
 than that mountain's base. 
 
 As this man's life is one of labor, it cannot otherwise be but that he 
 will have many and huge difficulties to cope with, and overcome if he 
 may. For though, as we set out with, the world is restless and given 
 to change, ever girding itself and putting on its sandals, like a pilgrim, 
 for another advance, the journey of another day, yet, so liable is it to- 
 run away to every cry of "Lo, here" so apt, in its weakness and 
 sinfulness, to follow after the false lights, that the true man finds it no 
 easy task to teach it knowledge. If he come into the groves where 
 the world's idols are set up, and proclaim overthrow and destruction 
 to them, will the worshippers not resist and struggle against their 
 doom ? Will they not stand up and fight with the intruder for the 
 images they love ? And it matters not whether we speak of men 
 highly civilized, or those in the lowest grade of civilization, it is still 
 true. Those embraced in the latter denomination have, indeed, at best,, 
 but the dimmest idea of progress. In the wilder countries, the old 
 superstitions are the rulers. Those rude men will not give them up 
 willingly. The chains that bind them they look upon as means of 
 salvation, and not as tokens of horrible debasement. Tradition has 
 uttered her voice, and with them she is an oracle and lies not. Mahomet 
 found this so, when he went through the Eastern lands, twelve centuries 
 ago, preaching against Sabeeanism, and the Sadducees, and the darkness 
 of Pagan night. 
 
 The true Reformer has the envy that is found in this world, to 
 contend with; that which is so slow in giving the good man credit for 
 his uprightness, and the honest one for his purity of life. The higher, 
 too, the place whereon the true man stands, the more deadly-poisoned
 
 [ 13 ] 
 
 the arrows that seek his heart. The dart of this envy is like Death's; 
 it loves best a shining mark. A good name, in man or woman, is a 
 jewel of no gold and silver price. The diamonds of the mine have no 
 value like it. The prince upon his throne is a wretch without it. The 
 lowest and meanest will fight with the calumniator, as with one that 
 would murder him. Well, with the traducer and the vilifier has this 
 man of ours to struggle, often and often. His first work, where he 
 stops to teach, will many a time be the wiping off of spots from his 
 fair fame; the silencing and rendering dumb the tongues that are busy 
 with his life and his motives. And how bitter must such a trial be! 
 The generous and noble will be borne down, as by a mountain of 
 anguish, if this fearful task be his but once; will he not be crushed 
 utterly and forever, if it be for him to do, again and again ? Alas, he 
 knows what sore temptations mean. He knows what trials and troubles 
 this earth has for her wisest and best. He knows what sighings for 
 the grave's repose are, for the sorrow that gives birth to such he has 
 felt. 
 
 The life of this man is not one long holiday, with the summer sky 
 overhead, and the summer green spots beneath his feet. It is not 
 given him, yet, to walk by the still waters and to lie down where the 
 roses bloom. The music of the lute is not for him; nor the songs of 
 maidens. With the dancers amid the vines of sunny lands he may not 
 be a mingler. A worker we have called him, but he is more. It is 
 not the calmness and peace of the husbandman, as he ploughs his 
 hill-sides, and cuts down his meadows, that are his. His is a stirring, 
 stormy, rough life. Why, he is a wrestler with the strong of earth's 
 errors, on an arena wide as this globe; a fighter within a more than 
 Roman amphitheatre, and against fiercer than Roman beasts. Should 
 not men shout his triumph when a victor, and weep over him when 
 he bleeds 1 Oh ! that it were no heresy to say of this poor nature of 
 ours, that it pants for the true and the good ! That when the two, 
 evil and righteousness, are held forth to it, like gifts for its choice, it 
 will sieze eagerly the latter, and will have none of the other! Then, 
 indeed, would Truth's champion shed fewer tears. Then would his 
 voice have a trumpet tone, and not be so like a wail in its sadness. 
 Then would his walk through the lands be kingly in its stateliness. 
 Then would victory evermore and always shower down garlands upon 
 him for his crowning. 
 
 Such, hastily and wildly sketched, are these two the True and the 
 False which is the better] They would both be leaders to you 
 which of them is the surer, trustier guide ? They would both be your 
 teachers the lessons of which of them will you lay to heart and 
 ponder well? Over the one may we not grieve, because of talents 
 misapplied and thrown away, of time wasted and lost, of much wrong
 
 [ 14 ] 
 
 and evil wrought on the earth and among men? Over the other may 
 we not rejoice and be exceeding glad all his life through; and when he 
 dies, at the grave where they lay him to his last rest, may we not well 
 sing with the Poet 
 
 "Such graves as his are sacred shrines, 
 
 Shrines to no creed or sect confined; 
 The Delphian vales the Palestines 
 
 The Meccas of the mind."
 
 A 000617979
 
 UCSB LIBRARY