this to be sound and wholesome advice. Were you walking in a
slippery, dangerous way, amid the darkness of midnight, you would
give the strictest heed to the friendly precaution--"Ponder the path
of thy feet. Be careful where you step. When you put your foot down,
see to it, that it rests on something well-established--some rock,
some spot of earth, that is firm and solid." This advice would be
heeded, because of your consciousness that by stepping heedlessly,
you would be in danger of stumbling into a pit, or falling over a
precipice, where your limbs would be broken, or life destroyed.
Simple discretion would bid you beware, under such circumstances.
The youthful should fully realize that they are walking in a
pathway, which to them is wholly untried and unknown. It is a road
surrounded by many dangers, unseen by the careless traveller; where
he is liable to be lured aside to ruin, by a thousand fascinations
and temptations, and where multitudes possessing the best
advantages, the highest talents, the brightest genius, the rarest
gifts, have stumbled and fallen, to rise no more on earth. While
pressing on ardently and thoughtlessly in this dangerous highway,
apprehending no difficulty, and fearing no peril, a voice from on
high calls to the young, and urges them to "Ponder the path of their
feet, and to let all their ways--their footsteps--be established!"
There is wisdom, prudence, goodness, in this exhortation.
Question the old man--the aged traveller--who has passed over this
pathway of life, and is just ready to step up into the mysterious
road of a higher existence. Ask him as to his experience--beseech
him for advice. Looking back through the vista of his long and
chequered way, of light and shadow, of joy and sorrow, he will
exclaim--"O ye youthful! Give heed to the admonition of the wise
man--'Ponder the path of thy feet, and let all thy ways be
established.'"
The admonition of the text is important in reference to the _Habits_
and _Amusements_ of the youthful. We are all more or less the
creatures of habit. Our ways, from earliest infancy, are more the
result of the force of habit, than we are generally aware. The
actions, words, and thoughts of men, form for themselves certain
channels, in which they continually seek to flow, unless turned
aside by a strong hand, and a painful effort.
Habits are formed insensibly. We are not aware of any moment when
they are created; but the first consciousness of their being fixed
upon us, is, when their great power is felt impelling us strongly to
certain courses. A single deed does not create a habit. One thread
of hemp forms not a rope. It contains but a very slight amount of
strength. But when a large number of threads are laid and twisted
together, they make the mighty cable, which, attached to the ship,
enables lier to bid a proud defiance to the fierce gales and
mountain billows of ocean. Thus the young are continually, yet
unconsciously, spinning the threads of habit. Day by day the strands
increase, and are twisted tighter together; until at length they
become strong and unyielding cords, binding their possessor to
customs and practices which fix his character and prospects for
life.
It is of the greatest importance that the young should inquire
faithfully into the nature of the habits they are forming. They
should not fall into self-deception--a common error, on this
subject. The love of indulgence should not be permitted to blind
them to the legitimate consequences of careless habits. Let them
look abroad on their fellow-beings, and critically study the
tendencies and fruits of their habits. When they see one prosperous
in life--one who is respected, confided in, and beloved by all--who
leads a quiet, pleasant and peaceful life,--mark his habits, and
strive to imitate them. They will bless them as well as him, if
faithfully practised. And when they behold a man disliked and
despised by his neighbors, especially by those who know him best--or
one who has fallen into disgrace and ruin; who has, lost his
character, his health, his happiness, and become an outcast and
vagabond,--let them not fail to learn what his habits have been.
Look at them carefully and critically. Ponder well the effect they
have had upon him. And then strive to avoid them. Shun them as the
poisonous viper whose sting is death. Let them wind not a single
coil of their fatal chains around the free spirit of the young. The
same appalling consequences will be visited on every youth who
indulges them, that have fallen on those whose condition excites
Loth pity and loathing in their breasts.
In youth, habits are much easier formed and corrected, than at a
later period of life. If they are right now, preserve, strengthen
and mature them. If they are wrong--if they have any dangerous
influence or tendency--correct them immediately. Delay not the
effort an hour. The earlier you make the attempt to remedy a bad
habit, the easier it will be accomplished. Every day adds to its
strength and vigor; until, if not conquered in due time, it will
become a voracious monster, devouring everything good and excellent.
It will make its victim a miserable, drivelling slave, to be
continually lashed and scourged into the doing of its low and
wretched promptings. Hence the importance of attending to the habits
in early life, when they are easily controlled and corrected. If the
young do not make themselves the masters of their passions,
appetites, and habits, these will soon become their masters, and
make them their tool and bond-men through all their days.
Usually at the age of thirty years, the moral habits become fixed
for life. New ones are seldom formed after that age; and quite as
seldom are old ones abandoned. There are exceptions to this rule;
but in general, it holds good. If the habits are depraved and
vicious at that age, there is little hope of amendment. But if they
are correct--if they are characterized by virtue, goodness, and
sobriety--there is a flattering prospect of a prosperous and
peaceful life. Remember, the habits are not formed, nor can they be
corrected, in a single week or month. It requires years to form
them, and years will be necessary to correct them permanently, when
they are wrong. Hence, in order to possess good habits at maturity,
it is all-important to commence schooling the passions, curbing the
appetites, and bringing the whole moral nature under complete
control, early in youth. This work cannot be commenced too soon. The
earlier the effort, the easier it can be accomplished. To straighten
the tender twig, when it grows awry from the ground, is the easiest
thing imaginable. A child can do it at the touch of its finger. But
let the twig become a matured tree before the attempt is made, and
it will baffle all the art of man to bring it to a symmetrical
position. It must be uprooted from the very soil before this can be
accomplished. It is not difficult to correct a bad habit when it
commences forming. But wait until it has become fully developed, and
it will require a long and painful exertion of every energy to
correct it.
Permit me to enumerate a few of the more important habits, which the
young should seek to cultivate.
First of all--the most important of all--and that, indeed, which
underlies and gives coloring to all others--is the habit of
TEMPERANCE. Surely it is needless for me, at this day, to dwell upon
the evils of intemperance. It cannot be necessary to paint the
bitter consequences--the destruction to property, health,
reputation--the overthrow of the peace of families, the want and
misery, to which its victims are frequently reduced. The disgrace,
the wretchedness, the ruin, the useless and ignominious life, and
the horrid death, which are so often caused by habits of
intemperance, are seen, and known to all. No one attempts, no one
thinks of denying them. The most interested dealer, or retailer in
intoxicating drinks--the most confirmed inebriate--will acknowledge
without hesitation, that intemperance is the direst evil that ever
cursed a fallen race!! The deleterious consequences of other vices
may sometimes be concealed for a season, from outward observation.
Not so with intemperance. It writes its loathsome name, in legible
characters, upon the very brow of its wretched victim. _"I am a
drunkard!"_ is as plainly to be read as though a printed label was
posted there!
Need I warn--need I exhort--the young to avoid the habit of
intemperance. Perhaps there is not a youth present, who is not ready
to say, "To me this exhortation is needless. I have not the
slightest expectation of becoming a drunkard!" Of course not. There
never was a man who desired, or expected, to become a victim to
intemperance. The great danger of this habit is, that it creeps
stealthily and imperceptibly upon the unwary. It does its work
gradually. The most besotted inebriate cannot tell you the day, nor
the month, when he became a confirmed drunkard. It is in the nature
of this habit, that those who expose themselves at all to its
assaults, become its victims, while they are entirely unaware of it.
The only safeguard and security, against this scourge of man, is
_total abstinence from all intoxicating drinks_!! Here is the true,
the safe ground for the young. There is no other condition of entire
security. No man who drinks, however sparingly, has assurance of
a sober life. He needlessly, and foolishly, places himself in
danger--turns his footsteps into the only path that can possibly
lead to the drunkard's ruin and the drunkard's grave!
Drink the _first drop_ that can intoxicate, and your feet stand at
the very brink of the ocean of intemperance. Its briny waters are
composed of human tears. Its winds, the sighs of those made poor and
wretched by the inebriation of husbands, fathers, sons. Its billows,
ever tossing, are overhung with black and lowering clouds, and
illuminated only by the lightning's vivid flash, while hoarse
thunders reverberate over the wide and desolate waste. Engulphed in
this dreary ocean, the wretched drunkard is buffeted hither and
thither, at the mercy of its angry waves--now dashed on jagged
rocks, bruised and bleeding--then engulphed in raging whirlpools to
suffocating depths--anon, like a worthless weed, cast high into the
darkened heavens by the wild water-spout, only to fall again into
the surging deep, to be tossed to and fro on waters which cannot
rest! Rash youth! Would you launch away on this sea of death? Quaff
of the intoxicating bowl, and soon its hungry waves will be around
you. Would you avoid a fate so direful? Seal your lips to the _first
drop_, and the drear prospect will sink forever from your vision!
Young men who would guard themselves against the baleful habit of
intemperance, should shun all resorts where intoxicating drinks are
vended. They should avoid throwing themselves in the way of
temptation. "Lead us not into temptation," should be the constant
prayer of the young. When by any combination of circumstances, they
find themselves in the company of those who quaff of the poisoned
bowl, whether in public or private, they should exercise a manly
pride in firmly refusing to participate in their potations. This is
a legitimate and commendable pride, of which the young cannot have
too much. Let them place themselves on the high rock of principle,
and their feet will not slide in the trying hour.
"Oh! water for me! bright water for me,
And wine for the tremulous debauchee!
It cooleth the brow, it cooleth the brain,
It maketh the faint one strong again!
It comes o'er the sense like a breeze from the sea,
All freshness, like infant purity.
Oh! water, bright water, for me, for me!
Give wine, give wine, to the debauchee."
"The young man walks in the midst of temptations to appetite, the
improper indulgence of which is in danger of proving his ruin.
Health, longevity, and virtue depend on his resisting these
temptations. The providence of God is no more responsible, because
a man of improper indulgence becomes subject to disease, than for
picking his pockets. For a young man to injure his health, is to
waste his patrimony and destroy his capacity for virtuous deeds.
"If young men imagine that the gratification of appetite is the
great source of enjoyment, they will find this in the highest degree
with industry and _temperance_. The epicure, who seeks it in a
dinner which costs five dollars, will find less enjoyment of
appetite than the laborer who dines on a shilling. If the devotee
to appetite desires its high gratification, he must not send for
buffalo tongues and champagne, but climb a mountain or swing an axe.
Let a young man pursue temperance, sobriety, and industry, and he
may retain his vigor till three score years and ten, with his cup of
enjoyment full, and depart painlessly; as the candle burns out in
its socket, he will expire."[2]
[Footnote 2: Horace Mann.]
Next to Temperance in importance, I would rank the habit of
INDUSTRY. We were evidently made for active occupation. Every joint,
sinew, and muscle plainly shows this. A young person who is an
idler, a drone, is a pest in society. He is ready to engage in
mischief, and to fall into vice, with but little resistance. It is
an old saying, that "an idle brain is the devil's workshop." Those
who are not actively employed in something useful, will be very
likely to fall into evil practices. Industry is one of the best
safeguards against the inroads of vice. The young, whatever may be
their condition, or however abundantly they may believe their future
wants already provided for, should actively engage in some honorable
occupation or profession--in something that will benefit mankind.
They should be fired with the high and noble ambition of making the
world better for their living in it. Who can wish to pass a _blank_
existence? Yet this is the life of every idler, poor or rich. Be
stirring in anything which is useful--anything which will make
others happy. Then you will not have lived in vain. Behold how a
good man can devote his life to labors for the benefit of others.
Would you partake of the immortal fame of a Howard? Imitate, to the
extent of your ability, the example of industrious benevolence he
has placed before the world.
"From realm to realm, with cross or crescent crowned,
Where'er mankind and misery are found,
O'er burning sands, deep waves, or wilds of snow,
Mild Howard journeying seeks the house of woe.
Down many a winding step to dungeons dank,
Where anguish wails aloud and fetters clank,
To caves bestrewed with many a mouldering bone,
And cells whose echoes only learn to groan;
Where no kind bars a whispering friend disclose,
No sunbeam enters, and no zephyr blows;--
He treads, inemulous of fame or wealth,
Profuse of toil and prodigal of health;
Leads stern-eyed Justice to the dark domains,
If not to sever, to relax his chains;
Gives to her babes the self-devoted wife,
To her fond husband liberty and life,--
Onward he mores! disease and death retire;
And murmuring demons hate him and admire."
To young women industry is equally essential and commendable. An
idle woman is a poor and worthless thing. For what does she imagine
she was created? Of what service is she to the world? In what
respect would not the world be as well without her? A _do-nothing_
young lady is most assuredly pitied and despised by those whose good
opinion she is most anxious to secure.
It is not enough that a young woman can play skilfully, sing
delightfully, dance gracefully, dress fashionably, and has an
abundant flow of "small talk." The world looks beyond these outward
ornaments, and asks--Has she a good heart and gentle disposition?
Is she affectionate and forbearing? Can she rule her temper and
control her tongue? Does she respect and obey her parents? Has she
a well-cultivated and well-stored mind? Is she industrious, prudent,
economical? Is she able and willing to engage in household duties?
Accomplishments are not to be overlooked. But the qualities above
enumerated are essential, indispensable, to the character of a good
daughter and a useful wife.
"ACTION! _That's_ the word. The great world itself throbs with life.
Action, untiring harmony pervades the Universe of God. The Creative
Power has so ordained it. The physical formation of the world, and
all therein, forbids inactivity. The vast machinery must move, or
the whole cease to exist. Man was never designed to be a drone. Had
he lived pure in the first Paradise, he could not have been idle.
Sick or well, in cold or heat, day or night, he machine moves on,
the heart, like a steam-engine, throbs away, and faithfully pumps
its crimson currents unceasingly to every part of the animal frame.
Action is one of the first elements of health and happiness. The
mind will stagnate and engender moral miasma, as much as the pool
never stirred by a tide or swept by the winds.
"God has written action on the Heavens. Silent, but ceaseless, the
worlds that gleam out upon us, keep on their course. Every orb
follows the track marked out for it. The Ocean rolls and heaves. The
spring gushes out from the hill-side and dances from rock to rock,
and the brook hums and murmurs its melody as it goes. Upon the
meadow, the springing grass tells of the process that annually
clothes the turf with wealth and beauty. The leaves put out, rustle
in the winds, and fall to their rest, while others follow. The
fierce, fiery energy of the lightning writes the truth upon the
scudding clouds. The formless waves that in the atmosphere ripple
and dash against the cheek, tell of a restless ocean around us, a
medium of health and sound. From the world that rolls, to the summer
flies that float on the air and glance in the sun, the truth is
proclaimed that all is activity. Man cannot be idle--should not."[3]
[Footnote 3: T.W. Brown.]
"One of the most mischievous phrases in which a rotten Morality, a
radically false and vicious Public Sentiment, disguise themselves,
is that which characterizes certain individuals as destitute of
financial capacity. A 'kind, amiable, generous, good sort of man,'
(so runs the varnish,) 'but utterly unqualified for the management
of his own finances'--'a mere child in everything relating to
money,' &c. &c.--meaning that with an income of $500 a year, he
persisted in spending $1000; or with an income of from $2000 to
$3000, he regularly spent from $5000 to $8000, according to his
ability to run in debt, or the credulity of others in trusting him.
"The victims of this immorality--debtor as well as creditor--are
entitled to more faithful dealing at the hands of those not directly
affected by the misdemeanors of the former. It is the duty of the
community to rebuke and repress these pernicious glosses, making the
truth heard and felt, that inordinate expenditure is knavery and
crime. No man has a moral right thus to lavish on his own appetites,
money which he has not earned, and does not really need. If public
opinion were sound on this subject--if a man living beyond his
means, when his means were commensurate with his real needs, were
subjected to the reprehension he deserves--the evil would be
instantly checked, and ultimately eradicated.
"The world is full of people who can't imagine why they don't
prosper like their neighbors, when the real obstacle is not in the
banks nor tariffs, in bad public policy nor hard times, but in their
own extravagance and heedless ostentation. The young mechanic or
clerk marries and takes a house, which he proceeds to furnish twice
as expensively as he can afford; and then his wife, instead of
taking hold to help him earn a livelihood by doing her own work,
must have a hired servant to help her spend his limited earnings.
Ten years afterward, you will find him struggling on under a double
load of debts and children, wondering why the luck was always
against him, while his friends regret his unhappy destitution of
financial ability. Had they, from the first, been frank and honest,
he need not have been so unlucky.
"Through every grade of society this vice of inordinate expenditure
insinuates itself. The single man 'hired out' in the country at ten
to fifteen dollars per month, who contrives to dissolve his year's
earnings in frolics and fine clothes; the clerk who has three to
five hundred dollars a year, and melts down twenty to fifty of it
into liquor and cigars, are paralleled by the young merchant who
fills a spacious house with costly furniture, gives dinners, and
drives a fast horse, on the strength of the profits he expects to
realize when his goods are all sold and his notes all paid. Let a
man have a genius for spending, and whether his income is a dollar a
day or a dollar a minute, it is equally certain to prove inadequate.
If dining, wining, and party-giving won't help him through with it,
building, gaming, and speculation will be sure to. The bottomless
pocket will never fill, no matter how bounteous the stream pouring
into it. The man who (being single) does not save money on six
dollars a week, will not be apt to on sixty; and he who does not lay
up something in his first year of independent exertion, will be
pretty likely to wear a poor man's hair into his grave.
"No man who has the natural use of his faculties and his muscles,
has any right to tax others with the cost of his support, as this
class of non-financial gentlemen habitually do. It is their common
mistake to fancy that if a debt is only paid at last, the obligation
of the debtor is fulfilled; but the fact is not so. A man who sells
his property for another's promise to pay next week or next month,
and is compelled to wear out a pair of boots in running after his
due, which he finally gets after a year or two, is never really
paid. Very often, he has lost half the face of his demand, by not
having the money when he needed it, beside the cost and vexation of
running after it. There is just one way to pay an obligation in
full, and that is to pay it when due. He who keeps up a running
fight with bills and loans through life, is continually living on
other men's means, is a serious burden and a detriment to those who
deal with him, although his estate should finally pay every dollar
of his legal obligations.
"Inordinate expenditure is the cause of a great share of the crime
and consequent misery which devastate the world. The clerk who
spends more than he earns, is fast qualifying himself for a gambler
and a thief; the trader or mechanic who overruns his income, is very
certain to become in time a trickster and a cheat. Wherever you see
a man spending faster than he earns, there look out for villainy to
be developed, though it be the farthest thing possible from his
present thought.
"When the world shall have become wiser, and its standard of
morality more lofty, it will perceive and affirm that profuse
expenditure, even by one who can pecuniarily afford it, is
pernicious and unjustifiable--that a man, however wealthy, has
no right to lavish on his own appetites, his tastes, or his
ostentation, that which might have raised hundreds from destitution
and despair to comfort and usefulness. But that is an improvement in
public sentiment which must be waited for, while the other is more
ready and obvious.
"The meanness, the dishonesty, the iniquity, of squandering
thousands unearned, and keeping others out of money that is justly
theirs, have rarely been urged and enforced as they should be. They
need but to be considered and understood, to be universally loathed
and detested."[4]
[Footnote 4: Horace Greeley.]
Nearly allied with the Habits of the young, are their _Amusements_.
That the youthful should be allowed a reasonable degree of
recreation, is universally admitted. The laws of health demand
relaxation from the labors and cares of life. The body, the
mind, constantly strained to the highest exertion, without
repose, and something to cheer, refreshen, and re-invigorate it,
will speedily fall into disease and death. The very word
recreation--(re-creation)--indicates that to a degree, proper
amusement has the power to revive the wearied energies, supply
afresh the springs of life, and give a renewed elasticity and
endurance to all the capacities of our nature.