Remarks upon a communication complaining of the increasing
prevalence of _revelry_, under the plea of “innocent
amusements.” Published in the _A. C. Review_, for July, 1860.
We have no doubt that many professors of religion are greatly sinning,
as well as disgracing and dishonoring their profession, in the manner
above described. But there is one trouble in writing or publishing
any thing for that class. They are beyond the reach of writers. They
subscribe for no religious publications, pay for none, and read none.
They read nothing, unless it be some silly love tale, book of fashion,
or mere novel. They can only be reached at all through older, wiser,
and better heads, and then only occasionally, and but slightly. In most
instances, the slightest reference to their inconsistent lives of folly
and vanity, is regarded as a mortal offence. We were threatened, not
long since, with being held _personally responsible_ for alluding to
the mischief done by dancing masters, in a public discourse. It turned
out that one was present, and, as if to publish himself as a live
dancing master, distinguish himself and render himself as notorious as
possible, immediately after the allusion to men of his calling, he cast
his eye around the house, and saw all eyes upon him, when he bounced
from his seat and went stamping out of the house, as if he intended
trying the strength of the floor, every time he set down his foot.
His _profession_ was too sacred to be alluded to without his being
insulted. Some of the people, we learned, called him _Professor_——!
Talk of preaching for such men! of writing to reform them! They would
not hear an angel from heaven, unless he would wink at their dancing.
They would not hear one who would rise from the dead, unless he would
wink at their sin. If they could, they would lead our fair daughters
to ruin, chuckle over the feat achieved, and dance on the graves of
heart-broken fathers and mothers. They are leeches upon society,
sucking the very life’s blood from the veins of better people, who
suffer themselves to be gulled by them, and, at the same time, grinning
like a weasel while cutting the throat of a chicken, and sucking its
blood.
The entire clan of amusement manufacturers, from the poor music
grinder on the street, up to Barnum, are pulling down, discouraging
and destroying the good built up by the hard toiling and struggles of
good people. It is useless to talk of their being gentlemen, polite,
or moral; their work is to pull down, to ruin, to destroy, and to
sink men and women in hell. Their work is against every prayer, every
exhortation and sermon; every Sunday school, church and gospel mission.
We may preach and pray, toil and struggle in tears, with our hearts
aching and bleeding, trying to save men, and so long as we countenance
worthless and silly amusements, we shall not be successful in saving
men. Not only so, but if we allow those who are determined to run their
length in all these amusements, to hang upon us, they will sink us all.