An Essay, Delivered at the International Convention of Young Men’s
Christian Associations,
Held In Albany, June 1, 1866.
The religious thought of the age must soon face this subject more fairly
than it has yet done; and seek for some more satisfactory adjustment of
it. At present its status is very indefinite. The church is by no means at
one concerning it. The pulpit too often evades it. Private Christians
waver between the results of independent thought and of early education,
undecided whether to approve or condemn; while extremists take advantage
of this hesitation to lay down the sternest dogmas, and to thunder
denunciations at every head that will not bow to their _ipse dixit_. The
questions at issue are not to be dismissed with a sneer at fanaticism and
over-scrupulousness on the one hand, and with a protest against
unwarrantable liberality on the other. The whole subject must be
reëxamined with reference to fundamental gospel principles by both
parties, in a spirit of Christian moderation, and with the desire of
ascertaining not only what is _safe_, but what is _right_.
To prosecute thoroughly such an examination within the limits assigned me,
is, of course, impossible. I can only deal with a few of the great
principles underlying the case, and urge their application to a single
practical question which has arisen in the experience of our own, and it
may be, of other Christian associations.
The idea of _development_, which is perhaps the fundamental one of
Christianity, has been to a very great extent swallowed up in the idea of
_safety_. It is not an uncommon error to regard Christianity almost
exclusively in a defensive aspect; the Christian merely as a _safe_ man,
protected by Divine safe-guards from temptation, rescued by Divine mercy
from the terrors of death and judgment. Correspondingly with this mistake,
the tendency has grown to strengthen the defenses of character, rather
than to foster its growth. To keep it from temptation, rather than to
teach it to overcome temptation. To teach it its danger from the world,
rather than its duty to the world. Consequently we have heard more about
keeping unspotted from the world, than of going into _all_ the world, and
preaching the gospel to every creature. More about coming out and being
separate, than of knowing the truth which shall make free. More of
separating wheat from tares, than of leavening lumps.
The false instinct of self-preservation, which sent the Romanist into
cloisters and convents, and tore him from the sweet sanctities of domestic
life, has perpetuated itself more than some of us think in Protestant
thought and church legislation. And in nothing has this tendency revealed
itself more distinctly than in the matter of amusements. For amusement,
having the effect to make men feel kindly toward the world, and, more
readily than duty, falling in with human inclination, has been regarded as
unsafe, and therefore as a thing to be kept at arm’s length by the church,
and admitted to her folds only under the strictest surveillance, and in
gyves and handcuffs.
The developments of this spirit are so familiar that I need not stop to
enumerate them. The important thing now is to discover the right
stand-point for discussion. And here let me say what, until recently, I
had supposed there was no need of saying: that amusement is a necessity of
man’s nature as truly as food, or drink, or sleep. Physiology, common
sense, experience, philosophy, are all at one on this point. Man needs
something besides change of employment. He needs something pursued with a
view solely to _enjoyment_. Those who deny this are ignorant of the
simplest fundamental laws of mind and matter. Men who assert publicly that
they need no amusements, and “want to die in the harness,” will have the
opportunity of dying in the harness some years earlier than would be
demanded in the ordinary course of nature. Nature will not suffer even
zealous Christian men to violate this law with impunity. She forbids man
to labor continuously, and if he persists in disregarding her prohibition,
she will revenge herself by imbecility, uselessness, or death.
This must be assumed in all discussions of the subject; and it being a
religious, no less than a physical truth, it throws into new prominence
the question, how, as Christians, we are to discharge this duty without
being led away by the temptation which adjoins it so closely.
Let it be borne in mind that we are not now dealing with individual cases
of conscience, but with general laws. While then there is obviously a
distinction between amusements—while it is granted that some develop
greater capabilities of abuse than others, the attempt to adjust this
question on the basis of _discriminating between amusements_ must result
in failure. It always has, and it always will. This basis is secure only
in a question between an innocent amusement, and one involving a palpable
violation of the law of God. The advocate of any particular amusement is,
on this ground, shut up to the necessity of proving that what he approves
and practices is _absolutely pure, and incapable of perversion_. The
moment it is admitted that it can, by any possibility, be turned to base
uses, the lists are thrown open to all corners, and the utterly insoluble
question arises, _just what degree of capacity for perversion entitles an
amusement to approval or rejection?_ Insoluble, I say, because, not to
speak of any other difficulty, one is obliged to confront the fact that no
one amusement presents a similar temptation to abuse to all alike. That in
which the slightest indulgence might tend to lead one man to ruinous
excess, excites no interest in another. It might possibly be dangerous for
one man to play at backgammon, while to another it would prove no
amusement, but only a tedious method of killing time. On this ground, in
short, it is utterly impossible to adjust this matter satisfactorily or
consistently. The only consistent or safe rule in this view of the case,
is _rigorously to exclude all_, because all are partakers of the universal
taint of sin.
“The trail of the serpent is over them all.”
It is innocent for boys to play marbles, but sinful to play dominoes.
Wherein, pray? They can learn to gamble with one as well as with the
other. It is sinful to play billiards, but highly graceful and innocent to
play croquet. But why? Really, when it comes to a comparison, the first is
infinitely the more beautiful and intellectual game. The ethical
distinctions are positively bewildering between balls of ivory and balls
of wood; between mallets and cues; between green baize and green grass. A
Christian household must not sit down and play at whist, but they are
engaged in a Christian and laudable manner if they spend an evening over
Dr. Busby, or Master Rodbury cards. Really, it is hard to draw the moral
line between cards bearing aces and spades, and cards with the likenesses
of Dr. Busby’s son and servant, Doll the dairymaid, and the like. When it
comes to a question of profit, one is an amusement involving a good deal
of healthy, mental exertion, while the other is about as silly and
profitless a way of spending an evening as can well be imagined. Youth
must not dance, but they may march to music in company, and go through
calisthenic exercises, involving a good deal more motion than dancing. But
if people may march to music and be guiltless, it is very hard to see how
skipping to music converts the exercise into sin. It is said that the
_associations_ make the difference; but the advocate of this theory is
shut up to proving that the associations are inseparable from the
amusements. And here is the place to remark that the best amusements are
the ones most likely to be abused—the ones which experience shows _are_
most abused, and about which cluster the most evil associations. The
children of this world are wiser in their generation than the children of
light. Men do not care to counterfeit a coin of inferior value; and the
world is very clear-sighted to discern the best and richest sources of
worldly pleasure, and utterly unscrupulous in appropriating them entirely
to itself. The amusements which are most abused, are commonly those which,
from their intrinsic value, call most loudly upon virtue to rescue them
from their abuses.
The above method of reasoning, in short, will not stand the test of plain
common sense. It is trifling, ignoring all distinctions which rest on
principles, and substituting factitious ones; and Christians who assume
this ground, lay themselves open without defense to the logic and ridicule
of any intelligent man of the world who may be disposed to test the
reasons for their scrupulousness. They condemn themselves in those things
which they allow. The amusements they approve cannot, in many cases, be
compared with those which they deprecate, either in elegance, profit, or
the amount of intelligence they require.
What point then shall we take for the consideration of this subject? We
are confined to one—the stand-point of the Bible. As Christian
associations we have but one question to ask: “_What saith the Word_.”
In the New Testament we find little said about the _degrees_ of sin. The
thought which it throughout tries to impress is, that sin is everywhere;
and under any form, or in any degree, is a horrible and fatal thing. The
tares are gathered _in bundles_ and burned; no matter if one grows a
little shorter, and another a little longer. The lustful glance is placed
in the same category with the licentious act. The angry thought is of the
same piece with the act of murder. The gospel contemplates the sins of the
race very much as a man looks at an orange: the rind is full of little
protuberances, and a close scrutiny will show that some of these rise
higher than others. But nobody pretends to notice these variations; they
all spring from one spherical surface, and their variation is not such as
to destroy the general effect of roundness. So all these fearful
developments of sin spring from one plane, and God hath concluded the
whole sinful world in unbelief.
The gospel, therefore, wastes no time in making distinctions between sins,
but aims straight at remedying the great fact of _sin_ as it exists
everywhere. Nor does it leave us in doubt as to its method. It assumes its
own power to purify anything, and therefore lays down as its great law of
operation, _the law of contact_.
This law it sets forth under a parable: The kingdom of heaven is like
leaven, which a woman took and hid in three measures of meal till the
whole was leavened. The great truth here illustrated, is the innate power
of the gospel to pervade and assimilate to its own nature the whole
worldly order of things, just as leaven thus pervades and assimilates the
lifeless lumps of dough. This then, is its simple lesson: Put the gospel
into contact with everything sinful—the heart of man, the life of man, the
employments of man, the amusements of man—into society, its customs, laws,
institutions, and it will purge them of evil, and bring them into harmony
with the Divine order.
But be sure and note, that the entire success of this action depends upon
the contact—upon _the putting the leaven into the lump_. Fail in this, and
the lump remains heavy. It matters very little whether the salt have lost
his savor or not, if the meat remain in one dish and the salt in the
other.
How thoroughly and beautifully this truth was carried out in the life and
teachings of Christ, will appear to us more clearly, if we shall recognize
the uniform policy of the gospel _to work for the destruction of evil,
chiefly through the lodgment and development of good_. Both Christ and his
apostles are exhibited in the gospel story as engaged chiefly in asserting
and illustrating the truth, and not in combating error. Christ comes into
a world lying in wickedness—besotted by it, plagued and tormented by it;
full of abominations starting boldly out without pretense of concealment,
from every phase of private, social and civil life. But he does not
approach these as a mechanic would an old building, saying, “this beam is
rotten and must come down; this roof is decayed and must be stripped off;
this floor is unsafe and must be pulled up.” He does not propose to his
disciples to enter upon a wholesale denunciation of profanity and
licentiousness. He points out and condemns many of these things it is
true; but the main lever of his teaching is the assertion of the great
gospel principles. For these he seeks a place of lodgment everywhere. The
old tables of the law contained but one commandment that was not
prohibitory. Every line portrayed a crime, with a law standing on guard
beside it, and warning men away with its “Thou shalt not!” Christ asserts
the authority of the law; but in the new table it is seen beckoning toward
the commandment, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart.”
His instructions to his disciples do not so much concern the things which
they are to avoid, as they tend to fix upon their minds right conceptions
of his character and mission. So, I repeat, Christ’s work is less a
crusade against evil, than an assertion of good by precept and example as
the surest means in the end of removing evil. Look, too, at Paul at
Athens, surrounded by heathen temples, statues and altars. He does not
proceed to demonstrate to the curious multitude that the philosophies of
Zeno or Epicurus are wrong; or that the worship of Hermes or Athene is
absurd. He throws out at once, bold and stern as a mountain headland, the
assertion of the Divine unity, and follows it up with the doctrines of
salvation through Christ, the resurrection, and the final judgment. In a
few bold strokes he delineates to the astonished skeptics some salient
points of natural and revealed religion, and then leaves the truth to
germinate and crowd out the evil in its own way and time.
There is indeed a sublimity in this invincible faith in the power of truth
exhibited by the Son of Man. In the calmness with which he moves amid the
moral ruin that encompasses him, without that anxious haste, and longing
for immediate results, which characterize so many modern reformers. The
world would have expected a direct and tremendous onslaught upon evil. It
would have said that the dropping of a seed of positive truth here and
there, would never result in anything. Christ knew better. He knew the
latent power of truth; its inherent capability of growth; and he knew that
wherever it should find a lodgment, it would grow; and wherever it should
grow, it would shake down from its branches, like the mighty tree of the
tropics, the germs of a thousand growths like itself. Now it is this very
faith in the power of gospel truth, as the most effective destroyer of
evil, prompting to put the good boldly into the evil to leaven it, which
is sorely needed in the moral movements of the age. Bring the subject of
amusements to this test. Compare the action of the church upon it, with
the principles so evidently regulating Christ’s dealing with evil, and see
whether it gains by the comparison. Is it not true, rather, that the
Christian world has, to a very large extent, acted upon an entirely
opposite principle? It has spent much time in peering into amusements to
see what evil they contained, and has kept digging away at this, instead
of putting Divine grace into them, in simple faith in God, and letting
_that_ at once purge and regulate them. It has been so absorbed in
ferreting out and declaiming against the evil, as to have forgotten
measurably that a corresponding duty lay upon it to develop the good.
Overlooking, or at least slighting the great philosophical truth, that
amusement is as necessary to man as bread, and fixing its gaze upon the
fact that it is capable of perversion, it has most signally failed in the
_regulation_ of popular amusements, and in teaching how to use, without
abusing them. It has withdrawn utterly from many most innocent sources of
pleasure; crying, “come out from among them;” they are not _safe_;
Christians must have nothing to do with them. And with its withdrawal, the
Devil has come in and taken full possession, and their last state is worse
than the first. When the church has touched the subject of amusements, it
has generally done so, I think, in a censorious spirit. It has selected
certain amusements as sinful, and issued decretals and resolutions against
them; it has prescribed penalties against church members who should engage
in them; leaving the question in its broader relations untouched. It has
fenced off this and that corner of the field of recreation, and put up
signs: “_all church members are warned against trespassing on these
grounds, under penalty of the law_,” instead of trying to teach Christians
how to avail themselves, with profit and safety, of any part of the field.
We are cut off from Hamlet, and Lear, and Othello and Macbeth. We cannot
avail ourselves of the interpretation of these by the best histrionic
talent, because the theater has been suffered to fall so completely into
the Devil’s hands, that a Christian cannot countenance what is good in it,
without at the same time countenancing much that is profane, licentious
and indecent. But if the intelligence and culture of a community endeavor
to apply the principle I have been advocating, and, in the shape of
private theatricals, to furnish a refined, beautiful, and instructive
dramatic exhibition, the outcry is little less than if they had leased
Wallack’s or Niblo’s, with a first class troupe; and those Christians who
witness it, are condemned as inconsistent and backsliders. Just so with
dancing. The idea of Christianity having the remotest connection with this
amusement has been scouted as absurd. A procrustean law has been
enacted—“_Thou shalt not dance_.” And surely, one would think from some
exhibitions of this amusement, that Christian leaven _had_ been pretty
thoroughly withdrawn from it. One cannot much wonder at the disgust
excited by those importations from Paris brothels, the round dances,
which, with the present style of female attire, really leave modest men at
some loss what to do with their eyes. Let us have as much thundering at
these as you will. Let us not mince words. Let ridicule, and sarcasm, and
denunciation exhaust their armories, for these are abuses; positive evils.
But these abuses are not inseparable from the amusement, which, in proper
forms, is healthy, graceful, innocent, and highly commendable. Just here
an incident occurs to me which so forcibly illustrates this last remark
that I must relate it as the involuntary testimony of an enemy. An amiable
and most excellent clergyman of this state, happened to be present one
evening when some young ladies went through a quadrille. He looked on with
great apparent pleasure. The next morning he was rallied by some of his
townsmen on having countenanced dancing by his presence; when he roundly
denied the charge, and asserted that no dancing had taken place, but only,
as he expressed it, “_a most beautiful exercise_.” Now, I ask, in the name
of common sense, why not devote a little Christian care to separating from
its abuses, and regulating in its conduct an exercise which improves the
bearing of our youth, tends to relieve their natural awkwardness in
society, and gives them innocent exhilaration? But no! _Thou shalt not
dance._ That is Alpha and Omega. Dancing is liable to abuse, and
therefore, O most astoundingly consistent logic, leave it to become a prey
to all manner of abuses and abominations. So, if a Christian household
makes the attempt to leaven this unfortunate lump, and claims that it can,
and does introduce graceful and modest dancing into its family gatherings
and social reunions, it is too often denounced as an enemy of Christ and a
corrupter of the young. For one I am glad that certain Christian families
of high standing in the church of all denominations, have at last asserted
their right to act out their own convictions in this matter, and have
demonstrated that even this much berated amusement may be elevated,
refined, and made a source of social pleasure and profit by the infusion
of Christian principle.
One more case in point. When our Young Men’s Christian Association of Troy
furnished their new rooms, they did so on the principle that prayer
meetings and religious periodicals, though important in their place, would
not, of themselves, suffice to attract young men from without. They had
tried the experiment in their forlorn rooms under a machine shop, in an
out-of-the-way place, furnished as a miniature chapel, and a very seedy
one at that, and the result was that about six months ago the Association
was in a fair way to die, and make no sign. Young men would not go to that
dismal hole to spend an evening when more attractive places abounded in
the city; and I would not if I had been in their place. But the
Association got a new lease of life. It engaged large, airy, pleasant
rooms, in a central position. It kept its prayer meeting room neatly and
appropriately furnished, but it added a large social parlor, its walls
adorned with pictures, a fine piano invitingly open, the best current
periodicals, secular and religious, upon the tables, and games of
checkers, chess, and dominoes distributed about the room. The young men
came in crowds. They were thrown at once into contact with the Christian
youth of every church in the city; with the city pastors; with committees,
specially appointed by the churches to take strangers in charge, with good
music, religious literature, and innocent amusement. For one I thanked God
with all my heart. I thought the Association had done a great Christian
deed. I hailed it as a happy omen that the Christianity of our city was
beginning to see that the Devil had tools which _it_ might use to
advantage, and was going to take them away from him. But so did not think
others who turned their backs on the Association, and denounced it as
_encouraging gambling_.
This, in short, is the course pursued to a very great extent with this
whole subject of amusements: assuming that the gospel has no business with
it except to denounce and warn; taking the leaven away from the lump,
instead of putting it in. Creating a wide separation between two things,
which, of all others in the world need to be brought into contact—religion
and pleasure.
And the practical results of this policy are before us. It may be said
that the tendency now is altogether in the direction of excess; that some
Christians are becoming much too liberal, and are fast obliterating all
old landmarks. All I have to say to this is, that the more true it is, the
better for my position. For, granting, for argument’s sake, all that is
asserted, this fact shows that there is a reaction from an old and false
sentiment, which even if excessive, is a healthy indication. And the one
error goes to prove the other; for excessive reactions are pretty sure to
grow out of excessive stringency in another direction. At any rate, the
great error of the church on this subject is clearly exposed, namely: her
failure to regulate amusements. She ought to have been the gospel’s
instrument in purifying them from abuse; but she has not been. She has
been afraid of them; has stood aloof from them; has been almost totally
absorbed in detecting their evil tendencies; and, on account of these,
forbidding Christians all contact with them. And to-day she stands
comparatively powerless in this matter. Church assemblies meet and pass
strong and elaborate resolutions on this or that amusement, condemning it,
and those who engage in it; and a few persons are deterred by these. But
every year the class is increasing that utterly disregards these mandates.
It has been said, I know, that in proportion as the church or individuals
are engaged in religious efforts, the desire for amusement declines, the
implication being that a desire for amusement characterizes only a low
state of religion. This deduction is entirely unwarranted, and the process
by which it is reached is fallacious.
It is true that in a season of deep religious interest in a church, there
will be less disposition to amusements. But the same is true of other than
religious interests. Under _any_ absorbing, popular excitement, men do not
turn to amusement. A special religious interest will draw men’s minds from
_business_ as well as from pleasure; and the inference to the condemnation
of business is just as legitimate as to that of amusement.
Again, the statement is not borne out in the ordinary religious life of
individuals. Many, very many of the best, most efficient, and most
steadily growing Christians in the church exhibit habitually a keen relish
for amusements, and for some which are most sternly condemned, and
participate in them most heartily.
And once more: while at revival seasons in individual churches, a
temporary decrease of amusements may be seen, the more important fact is
that the aggregate of Christian society has been for many years past
developing a steadily increasing interest in the subject, and a
corresponding liberality of sentiment respecting it. Scores of Christian
men have billiard tables in their houses. Colleges, from which in years
past, students would have been summarily expelled for rolling ten pins,
have now bowling alleys of their own. Even in the corridors of staid old
Williams the sound of the balls may be heard; and the revival record of
the college does not indicate that even this stupendous innovation has
wrought to the banishment of the Spirit of God. The assertors of this
inverse ratio between piety and amusement must, in short, dispose as best
they can, of the fact that along with the growth of Christian
intelligence, Christian benevolence, and Christian activity, there has
been developed in the church itself a growing sympathy with many of the
very forms of amusement most condemned by the religious sentiment of an
earlier age.
And this too, not on the part of the careless, and pleasure loving, and
half-hearted members of churches, but of men and women high in position in
the church; persons of liberal culture and unquestionable piety. These
persons, as well qualified to understand the teachings of God’s word on
this subject as any of the clergy, are asserting their right to act out
their own conscientious convictions in their amusements: claiming that
they owe to the resolutions of synods, and conventions and conferences, no
more than candid and respectful consideration, maintaining the privilege
of adopting or rejecting them at pleasure; and accordingly they are
throwing open their homes to certain banned amusements, very much to the
enhancement of home attractions; very much to the detriment of the
saloons; very much to the increase of their children’s attachment to home.
Church legislation on this subject has been a humiliating failure. It has
not compassed its intent. Nay, more, it has over-reached itself. It has
kept noble and intelligent youth out of the church by insisting on their
relinquishment of certain amusements, in the proper and moderate use of
which they were unable to see evil. It has tended by this insistence to
foster that too common sentiment which paints religion with sombre hues,
and couples it with the most forbidding associations. It has tended to
drive some to seek in the more liberal atmosphere of Unitarianism the
liberty of conscience denied them by orthodoxy; and all this it might have
avoided by a clearer recognition of the gospel teaching on this subject:
by being less afraid for the purity of the truth, and by throwing
Christian presence, and Christian participation, and Christian sentiment
boldly into the midst of the people’s amusements, with a view less to
exscind than to regulate.
I say, “less afraid for the purity of the truth.” For Christians shrink
from an experiment so bold, especially after so large a proportion of
amusements has been usurped by the Devil through their neglect to
interfere. The church is shy of a faith in the power of good which comes
eating and drinking; which sits at the table of publicans and sinners. The
conviction grows on me that Christians have too little faith in the
gospel. They do not trust it enough in popular reforms. They realize that
evil is a tremendous power, alike to be feared, whether it wear the armor
of Goliath, or sing its sweet seductions in the form of a siren; and their
instinct of preservation extends beyond themselves to the truth itself.
They regard truth as a tender stripling, to be rolled up in mufflers, and
suffered to walk out only in charge of certain staid nurses of theory; and
not as a man of war in panoply, and with strength enough to take care not
only of itself, but of them and their trusted theories too. They are
afraid the evil will overwhelm or corrupt the truth; that the leaven,
instead of imparting virtue, will be spoiled by the deadness of the lump.
We need have no such fear for it. All the developments of the age show
that the world needs it in closer contact with its evil than it has ever
been yet. It is sometimes urged that in pursuing this course, Christians
will bring upon themselves from the world the charge of inconsistency, and
moreover will grieve weak Christian brethren. But surely this principle
may be pushed too far. With the very fullest recognition of the obligation
upon Christians not to let their good be evil spoken of, and not to wrong
the weak conscience—concessions made for the sake of Christian charity are
surely not required to extend to all the vagaries of individual prejudice,
nor to the abandonment of principle. And there is a principle involved in
this question of amusements, a principle of far greater importance than
many are willing to admit; and to which, if the Christian thought of this
age do not take more pains to define it and act upon it, the eyes of the
church will be most painfully opened by and by. There is a question here
involving not only the enjoyments, but to a great extent the moral welfare
of our youth. The young will have amusements, and the question is whether
the devil or the church shall furnish them. Whether home, or the ball
room, and drinking saloon, and gambling house shall be the more
attractive. Whether Christians will resolutely take up good and noble
amusements, and give them to youth purged of their evil,—or whether they
shall let them remain girt with all their allurements, yet more widely
separated from good, and gathering yearly to themselves new elements and
associations of evil. Very probably the world, and much of the church will
assail the Christian who, in this view of the subject oversteps the line
of received opinion, with a cry of inconsistency. But remember that the
world judges the church out of its own mouth, independently of the real
merits of the case; and requires that it be consistent, not with _their_
views, but with its own as publicly expressed. Yet sometimes it is better
to be _right_ than even to be _consistent_; and if the church has with all
sincerity, yet with mistaken zeal, fostered a false sentiment on any
subject, do not Christians who discern the error owe to society the
benefit of their clearer light? Have they a right to withhold it for fear
society should turn on them and call them inconsistent? One would think
from a sentiment like this that the gospel process was to be reversed.
That not the Christian is to leaven the world, but the world the
Christian. Christian sentiment is not to wait for popular sentiment. It
claims to be in advance of it. It is to Christians and not to the world
that the promise is given, “_Ye shall know the truth_;” and Christian
thought, so far from waiting for the movement of these ever shifting
popular tides, is the luminary which God has set high in the darkness of
this world’s sin to draw the tides in his appointed channels. The
practical value of truth like that of money, consists in its circulation.
It is worth nothing hoarded up or used secretly. If it is ever to be worth
anything in correcting false impressions which society may have formed of
Christian teaching, it will be by letting it out into society to speak for
itself. Nor am I begging the question at issue here. Even an error is
better outspoken than cherished in secret. It comes into the field of
discussion, and is turned over and examined and exposed, and so truth is
the gainer after all. But I think it will be difficult to prove an error
in this case. The gospel truth is “_put the leaven into the lump_;” and
why the gospel should not be put into our amusements, even into those
which are confessedly abused, I cannot see. The more liable to abuse they
are, the more they need regulating; and the practical workings of this
principle when men have the courage to face prejudice and carry it out,
triumphantly vindicate it. The man who furnishes his son a billiard table
in his own house, where he can practice that beautiful game with his
friends without the adjuncts of liquor and rowdyism, does a good deed. He
keeps the youth at home, he keeps his associations under his own eye; he
gives him a good, healthy, intellectual amusement purged of its abuses.
The college board that erects a bowling alley for the students; that says
to young men, “rolling ten pins is not evil, but rolling ten pins in bar
rooms, surrounded by drunkards and swearers and indecent pictures _is_
evil, and we therefore give you the amusement without these associations,
and bid you enjoy it, and draw health and strength from it,”—that college
board I say, has promoted something more than _muscular_ Christianity. It
has given the young men a better opinion of religion; has withdrawn them
from the influence of temptations to which they expose themselves only
because they cannot find the amusements freed from these vile
associations. It has drawn just so much patronage from the grog shop. The
parents in whose family circle dancing in proper modes and with approved
associates and within reasonable hours is encouraged, are doing just so
much to keep their daughters from the unhealthy hours, the immodest
displays, and the indiscriminate associations of the ball room. They
deserve the thanks, not the reprobation of the church. They are the
friends, not the enemies of religion. Let us not be scared by names. Let
us not deal, as the pulpit has dealt too much, in vague generalities on
this subject. Let us see what those terrible words “billiards” and
“dancing,” and others of a similar cast mean. Let us see if they are evil
and evil only. Let us not assume that our youth are attracted to them only
by their native depravity; but see if there be not some goodness, some
beauty, some intellectual stimulus which renders them so fascinating. If
they need regulating, surely Christian wisdom can regulate them if
anything. If any can use them safely, it is Christians who are taught by
Divine grace to use this world as not abusing it, and not those who are
swayed by impulse and love of pleasure only. But the church does not
regulate them, and she never will or can regulate them on the old theory
of separation. Never, so long as she persists in wholesale denunciations
which she can sustain neither by scripture nor by logic, and against which
the common sense of the educated and thoughtful rebels. A more liberal
policy in the past, a juster appreciation of the gospel teachings on this
subject, would not only have done much towards separating amusements from
their abuses, but would have saved her from her present humiliating
attitude as the declared enemy of many forms of amusement, from
participation in which she has no power to restrain her members.
This principle has been assailed on the ground that the world will abuse
it. That they will read in words like these the church’s endorsement and
license for unlimited indulgence. But if the world draws unwarranted
inferences to suit its own depraved wishes, surely that is no reason for
suppressing the truth, but rather calls for the full and most careful
statement of it. If the world read the gospel wrongly, and wrest it to its
own destruction, those who set forth gospel principles are not
responsible, unless, as has too often been the case with reference to this
subject, the trumpet give an uncertain sound. And the world is too ready
to pervert this truth, and does pervert it. Christians, if properly
instructed, are so far from being disqualified to use amusements safely,
the best qualified of all others to develop their highest uses, and to
enjoy without abusing them. The world regards only the permission to
enjoy, and ignores the corresponding rule of restraint. In this respect it
is like the prince in the Arabian tale, who mounted the enchanted horse,
and set him in motion without having informed himself as to the means of
guiding or stopping him.
For, let me be clearly understood, I do not lay down this general
principle without recognizing the existence of practical limitations to
its action, though I assert that the fixing of these limitations belongs
chiefly if not entirely to the individual Christian conscience. I have
said that the tendency of religious teaching with reference to this and
kindred subjects has been to make the idea of _safety_ more prominent than
that of _development_. Yet I do not overlook, as was implied in the
remarks of one who objected to my views, the defensive aspect of the
gospel. I admit both the fact and its urgent necessity I could not do
otherwise, knowing that the heart is deceitful, and remembering the prayer
which Christ puts into every man’s mouth, “Lead us not into temptation.” I
am pleading for the restraints as well as for the privileges of the gospel
in the matter of men’s amusements; for more and not less care and
watchfulness to be brought to bear upon their future regulation.
But withal, I am not bound to abandon the general gospel principle of
purging amusements by a closer contact of religion with them, because in
certain cases this regulation becomes a matter of extreme difficulty and
delicacy; because I cannot precisely say _how_ the gospel leaven is to be
conveyed into certain forms of amusement. Just as consistently might I
have refused to denounce slavery as a crime against God and humanity
because I could not prescribe an effectual scheme for abolishing it. And
that such difficulties do arise in the applications of this principle, I
freely admit.
There, for example, is the theatre. I believe this principle applies to
that as well as to any other amusement. For myself I wish that I could
occasionally see Shakespeare interpreted by the best histrionic talent,
with all adjuncts of scenery and costume. To me it would be a rich
pleasure and a source of intellectual improvement. But as the theatre is
now conducted and sustained, I am clearly of the opinion that no Christian
ought to frequent it. He cannot do so without, I think, in the great
majority of instances, committing himself to very much that is indecent
and coarse. And just how this difficulty is to be surmounted, how
scholarly, Christian men who love such entertainments and are qualified to
profit by them, are to be furnished with them freed from their abuses, I
am not now prepared to say. I think it might be done; but the theatre, as
it now is, is no place for a Christian.
This, however does not, as before observed, in the least invalidate the
general principle. It is merely a question of means. Nor, as was very
roundly asserted, does the principle lead to this conclusion that every
Christian man must have his box at theatre or opera. It by no means
follows that such a course would produce the desired effect. It would be
just about as pertinent to argue that because a sewer in a certain street
needed cleansing, and because a proper array of men and buckets and brooms
would cleanse it, therefore every man and woman on the streets, grave
doctors of divinity, stately Mr. Dombey, Flora McFlimsey and Edmund
Sparkler, should each shoulder broomstick or bucket, and plunge pell mell
into the reeking filth. This argument proceeds upon the assumption that
Christians can purge amusements only by using them in the forms and with
the appliances attendant upon the world’s abuse of them. This is assuming
altogether too much. We must get religion into these things, but there are
various ways of doing it. You cannot sow broadcast in all soils.
I do not know whether I ought notice one other line of reply to these
remarks; but as it seems to be a favorite one, and moreover was adopted by
some who I was surprised to see descending to it, I will add a few words
on this.
It may be described as an attempt to invalidate a principle by showing
that its application to persons of widely different times and
circumstances involves an absurdity and then from the absurdity inferring
a sin. I do not pretend to give the exact words used, but they were in
this style: “Think of Paul dancing; or Peter playing billiards! Do you
think we shall have checker-boards in heaven?” And much more of the same
kind.
Now this is not argument. It is sheer nonsense; and most unworthy trifling
over a serious subject. The reasoning, if it be worthy the name, is simply
this; Certain things appear incongruous with our ideas of the character
and work of certain men: therefore these things are sinful. It is the
easiest thing in the world to invent situations of this kind. Such men as
Paul and Peter are associated in our minds with but one set of ideas;—with
one great, glorious, solemn work; and their association with any inferior
matter affects us unpleasantly at first. Even when we think of Paul making
tents, there is at first view something that clashes in our mind with the
speech on Mars Hill, and the healing of the cripple at Lystra. But who
thinks of disputing from this the propriety of Paul’s own hands
ministering to his necessities? After all, if there is no sin in rolling
ten pins, I know not why Peter should not have participated in that very
excellent and healthful recreation with as much propriety as any of the
numerous ministers of the present day who “roll” with so much zest and
assiduity at our fashionable watering places. Think of Paul dancing! Well,
think of him! Think of Paul wearing a blue swallow-tailed coat with brass
buttons! How he would have looked under the shadow of the Acropolis, the
winds of the Ægean gently swaying his cerulean skirts, and the eager faces
of Stoic and Epicurean reflected in the bright buttons! Think of Peter
skating; cutting figures of eight, and performing “outer edge backwards!”
Think of John in a white cravat; or of Bartholomew putting up seidlitz
powders; or of Timothy running with a fire-engine! How _would_ they have
looked? Therefore hasten ye trim gentlemen, to doff your guilty blue and
brass, and don the toga. Lay aside your skates, boys. Peter would have
looked very strangely skating, therefore it is sinful to skate. Tear off
your white chokers, ye Reverends, and throw away your pestles ye
apothecaries, and be like the apostles. Shall we have checker-boards in
heaven? No, brother, I presume not. Neither shall we marry, nor be given
in marriage; but pray don’t condemn us to celibacy on that ground while we
remain upon earth. “Would you play chess on your death-bed?” Probably not,
my friend. Neither would I put on my boots, or do a great many other very
innocent things. Death stands out in startling contrast to _all_ our
employments: to business and study, as well as to recreation; and you
would find it vastly inconvenient to act upon the principle that nothing
must be done which you would not do on your death-bed.
But enough of this. I come now to the one practical application of these
principles out of which this whole discussion has grown.
When our Troy Christian Association adopted the practice of introducing
games into their rooms, I gave it my hearty approval. My opinion on this
subject has been confirmed by what I have seen and heard of the results of
the experiment. It was based on the principles I have been advocating in
this paper, and on the farther consideration, growing out of these, that
we must take some of the devil’s weapons and sanctify them before we could
successfully fight him on his own ground. As remarked already,
prayer-meetings will not draw irreligious young men into the sphere where
we want them. Give them first well lighted and warmed apartments,
handsomely furnished, where they can find music and books and newspapers
and games, and you stand some chance then of drawing them into the
prayer-meetings. And indeed the direct religious influence of these
associations, while highly important, is nevertheless subordinate to their
work in bringing young men into contact with the various churches of the
community, where the religious appliances are of course more perfect. The
great point is to get them into some position where the churches can reach
them. They will not come to church, many of them, when they first enter
the community. The church has but limited facilities for finding them out
in their stores and boarding-houses and schools; and it may find therefore
a powerful auxiliary in these associations, which bring the stranger youth
where it can bring its influences to bear on them. But for this purpose
the place of rendezvous must be made attractive. We must have
head-quarters as pleasant as the devil’s. I hope all of you have read the
article in _Guthrie’s Sunday Magazine_ for January, 1866, entitled “_The
house that beats the public house;_” that splendid iron structure in
Colne, Lancashire, built expressly for the irreligious working class.
There are fountains, and pictures, and games, cabinets and books and
newspapers. There are quiet reading rooms, there are refreshment rooms,
even smoking rooms. There is a school room, there are musical
entertainments on stated nights, there are religious services on Sabbath
evenings. “On Christmas eve, 1863,” says the writer, “the musicians at one
of the public houses piped for some time, but no dancers presented
themselves, till at length the players themselves adjourned to the meeting
at the Iron School. An attempt to open the theatre that winter failed
through the same influence. The actors, after struggling for a week in the
face of empty benches, left the place in despair.”
Here is a clear and successful recognition of the truth that religion has
not such strong alliance with the unregenerate heart that she can afford
to dispense with all legitimate aids and recommendations. The firemen have
their upper parlor in the engine house furnished richly and tastefully.
The drinking saloons are invested with all the attractions that marble,
and glass, and drapery and pictures can give them. One man who appeared
last week before the excise commissioners, said he had expended ten
thousand dollars in fitting up his saloon. He knew it would pay; and we
cannot expect irreligious young men to be drawn away from these by mere
religious appliances. We must employ other attractions. We must make our
houses beat the public houses. We must sanctify new forces for this end.
Pictures and cabinets, carpets and draperies, music and games are not the
devil’s any more than they are ours. Young men will have some retreat
beside their comfortless boarding-houses; some society besides their
landlord’s family, and it is a match between the devil and the church
which of us shall furnish these. Depend upon it, if the church do not give
them amusement, regulated on a liberal Christian basis, the devil will
give them abundance that is unregulated. God forbid that Christian
squeamishness should suffer them to turn aside to the house whose gates
lead to hell, and to habits which shall make mothers curse the day they
gave them birth.
I will give two incidents showing the practical working of this new system
in the Troy Association. A member of my church, walking in the street one
evening, saw three young men just before him, and overheard one say to the
others, “Come, let’s go and take a drink.” One of the others replied, “No,
I don’t care to take a drink. Let’s go to the Christian Association
Rooms.” “Pshaw!” said the third, “I don’t want to go there to prayer
meeting.” “No, no,” was the response; “they’ve got a right nice place
there, and we can have a good time.” He went on describing the rooms, and
then added: “_and they’re for just such fellows as we are_.” He gained his
point, and they followed him to the rooms.
Three clubs of young men, or boys rather, were broken up soon after the
new rooms were opened. I do not know their character fully, but have been
told that drinking was practiced at their meetings. They now frequent the
rooms of the society, and pay over into its treasury their club
subscriptions. There are many more of such cases. They speak with trumpet
tongues as to the value of this policy. They show that its practical
influence is against the groggery and the gambling saloon, and if it work
no other result, that of itself is vindication enough.
And now I leave the subject. I do not shrink from the application of this
Bible principle to our amusements. The other, the separative policy, the
keeping of leaven and lump apart, has been tried, and has failed, utterly
failed.
Will it not be well to try another policy? I want for our youth a
Christianity that shall not relax one iota of its obligation to God or to
man. That shall not bate one jot from an entire consecration of heart and
life to God; that shall walk closely with God, and feel as deeply as human
weakness can feel, the necessity of watchfulness and of divine care to
keep it from temptation. I challenge any man to draw undue license from
the principles I have asserted. But I want more joy brought out of the
world by Christians. I want the gospel carried boldly into some things
from which it has been kept aloof. I want Christian life to be in the
spirit more than in the letter. I do not plead for less but for more
conformity to the spirit and teaching of Christ. Not for a lower but for a
higher Christian life; for a wider application of gospel principles, a
more implicit trust in the leavening power of truth; a more practical
belief in the assertion that the weapons of our warfare are mighty through
God to the pulling down of strongholds. I want Christian conscience
clothed with principles and not with dogmas. I want the word of God read
and interpreted fairly, and that allowed which it allows. I protest
against its being twisted and perverted into rules for the unnecessary
abridgment of Christian liberty, where it lays down only general
principles for the conscience. I want less of the religion that is
“Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern,”
and more of that which is full of child-like trust in the love of God and
the power of truth, and of freedom purged by love from license.