APPEAL TO THE YOUNG MEMBERS OF THE METHODIST EPISCOPAL CHURCH.
"_I have written unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and
the word of God abideth in you, and ye have overcome the wicked
one._" I John ii, 14.
Before we part, will our young Christian reader "suffer the word of
exhortation?" I am not unmindful of the situation in which you are
placed. You have associates, intelligent, agreeable in manners, and not
immoral, who argue stoutly in defense of their thoughtless pleasures.
Your conscience resists, and yet you feel the effect of their
solicitations. You are sometimes almost ready to wish that your parents,
your pastor, your class-leader, and your own conscience would consent to
your yielding, that you might escape the pressure and feel no conflict
between duty and the wishes of your gay companions. Let me call your
attention to certain considerations, which I trust will have the effect
to strengthen you for the right.
1. _Frivolous and doubtful amusements have always been condemned by the
Discipline of our Church._
Our General Rules do not indeed name dancing, the theater, and the
rest. Had they done this, it might have been argued that the Discipline
allows every folly not specified in the list. Our fathers in the Church
were too wise thus to attempt to war against an evil which assumes a
thousand Protean forms. They announce a broad principle, which condemns
all "_such diversions as can not be used in the name of the Lord
Jesus_." Do you profess to be in doubt as to the true intent and meaning
of the Rule? If you do, look at the past history of the Church. Which of
the founders of Methodism favored dancing? Did John Wesley? Did Fletcher
or Clarke? Which of them favored the theater or the horse-race? Did
Hedding, or Fisk, or Olin? I challenge the apologists for dancing,
theaters, and races to show that a single one of the multitude of holy
men and women who have a name in our annals ever practiced or approved
such diversions. On the contrary, there arise from their honored graves
a great cloud of witnesses against them. The devoted servants of God,
who shine as stars in our firmament, and whose names are "as ointment
poured forth," condemned, feared, abhorred them as utterly at war with
the life which they were living and the work which they were doing. Nor
were these the views of ignorant, morose, narrow-minded people, soured
by disappointment, or disabled by age or disease, but of intelligent,
happy men and women, who served the Lord with glad hearts and went about
with smiling faces.
Our Church traditions are unanimous in regard to these things. The
testimony which they bear is uniform and strong. Our Bishops and pastors
are now unanimous in their judgment. Within the past year, Conference
after Conference has spoken in resolutions and pastoral addresses,
warning our young people on this subject. If, therefore, a young man
here and there among us finds that the practices into which he has
fallen are at variance with the deliberate judgment of the Wesleys, the
Clarkes, the Asburys, and the Heddings of the past, and all the Bishops
and pastors of the present day, I respectfully suggest that he will not
be liable to be convicted of excessive modesty if he should begin to
suspect that his ideas on the subject are wrong, nor of excessive
caution if he should conclude to refrain from indulgence till he is
better assured that it is right and safe. Surely no one will count it a
light thing to disregard the teachings of a century of spiritual power
and progress, nor to turn a careless ear to the kind and faithful
counsels of those who now watch for souls.
2. _Every member of the Methodist Episcopal Church is bound by a solemn
pledge to abstain from all questionable diversions, such as those
already named._
In the form given in the Ritual for the reception of persons into the
Church after probation, the fourth question is in the following words:
"Will you be cheerfully governed by the Rules of the Methodist Episcopal
Church, hold sacred the ordinances of God, and endeavor, as much as in
you lies, to promote the welfare of your brethren and the advancement of
the Redeemer's kingdom?"
To this question, so full of meaning, each candidate for reception must
answer, before God and his Church, "I WILL." (Discipline, page 156.)
Every member of the Church, therefore, solemnly promises before God and
the people of God to be cheerfully governed by the Rules of the Church.
One of these Rules calls upon you to avoid "such diversions as can not
be used in the name of the Lord Jesus." That Rule has always been
understood to condemn balls and dancing, theaters, attendance at
horse-races, and the whole list of corrupting amusements. The logical
chain, then, is complete. Every member of the Church is bound, in the
most solemn manner, by his or her own pledge, fully and publicly given,
to abstain from balls, dancing, theater-going, and the rest.
Can you, for one moment, harbor the thought of repudiating so solemn an
obligation? The Psalmist inquires, "_Lord, who shall abide in thy
tabernacle? Who shall dwell in thy holy hill?_" And he thus answers his
own question: "_He that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not_."
God honors those who are faithful to their word. He delights in the man
who keeps his promise, even when it is against his own temporal
interests to abide by it. If God counts it a dishonorable and wrong
thing for a man to repudiate a pledge given to his fellow-man, what will
he think of those who repudiate a solemn public pledge made to him? If
God honors the integrity of the man who keeps his word when his
interests seem to call upon him to violate it, what will he say of those
who violate their word when all their interests, both temporal and
eternal, call upon them to keep it?
3. _When the young people connected with the Church are drawn into
frivolous diversions, it is a sorrow of heart to the pastor and to all
devoted Christians._
Will it be replied that these faithful friends of years are so narrow
and antiquated in their notions, that no one need care what they think
or how they feel? The matter can not be disposed of thus lightly. It is
not a small thing for a few young men and women, before whom real life
lies yet untried, to set up their opinions, and blindly adhere to them,
in opposition to the solemn judgment of the whole body of the ministry.
It is not a small thing to wound, deeply and wantonly, those whose
acknowledged consistency and holy lives are the joy and crown of the
Church, and one of the main elements of its strength in the community.
It is by these, and such as they, and God working through them, that we
have Bibles and Sabbaths, and law and order, and civilization
itself--all that exalts a Christian country above a heathen land. These
devoted followers of Christ love his Church and his people. Some of them
have been long in the way. They feel that they are approaching the gates
of _the city which hath foundations_, and they are expecting daily the
shadowy messenger that shall bid them enter. Looking to the younger
members of the Church to supply the places which they will soon leave
vacant, they may well be troubled, and shed their tears over the gloomy
future, when they see youthful professors of religion given to vain and
trifling pleasures and frivolous pursuits, trying to break down the
discipline of the Church, and strip Methodism of its beauty and its
power, and wrest from its hands the spiritual weapons with which a
thousand victories have been won.
4. _When young Church members become giddy and fond of worldly pleasure,
the unconverted are encouraged to go on in their sins._
They who are yet unsaved hear the ways of wisdom described as ways of
pleasantness and peace, but they know not how to understand the
declaration. They confess that it is good to have a hope of eternal
life, just as it is good to have a life-preserver about you when you are
going to make a sea-voyage. Still, to them piety is a mystery. The deep
joy of devotion, the glow and the rapture of praise, the blessedness of
communion with God they can not comprehend. They listen, and wonder, and
sometimes doubt and do not know what to think. But when they find that
young members of the Church are just as eager as themselves after
questionable pleasures, they conclude that these roseate pictures of the
happiness of the Christian are, to say the least, overdone. When they
see the flock trying the fence on all sides of the fold, and stretching
their heads through every opening, to nibble at the weeds outside, they
begin to suspect that the pasture within is not as rich as it is
represented. Thus the inconsistent conduct of professed Christians who
plunge into worldly amusements harms souls and injures a holy cause.
And sinners, too, are inconsistent with themselves. Now they argue
that religion is all delusion, because, as they say, its professors are
no better than other people; now they insist that their soulless
pursuits must be right, because even members of the Church indulge in
them. Thus they seek to justify their follies and their sins by the
example of worldly Church members. Moreover, they will endeavor to make
a little in you justify a great deal in them. Tell a sinner that he is
not wise in attending balls, and he will twit you with the parlor
dancing at some well-known professor's house. Warn him against the
theater, and he will ask you to point out the moral difference between
that and the play at the museum. Tell him that the gambling den is a
dangerous place for young men, and he will remark, with a significant
look, that living away from home he can not play cards in his father's
house, as some do. And what professors of religion do occasionally, the
unconverted, on the strength of their example, will claim the right to
do constantly and habitually. Thus the thoughtless conduct of Church
members is made to increase the perils which environ the unsaved, and to
hedge up the only way of life. To incur, or even risk, consequences like
these for the sake of a momentary excitement, is certainly to do the
devil's work for low wages.
5. _If you indulge in diversions which are thus under condemnation, it
can not fail to lessen your religious enjoyment and mar your
usefulness._
You may seem to yourself to be confident that your course is right,
but the consciousness that others, whose judgment you must respect,
believe it to be wrong, brings a cloud over you. The fact that you are
doing what they condemn will haunt you in church, at the prayer-meeting,
and every-where. The fact that you do this, not under any plea of
necessity, but for mere pastime and momentary pleasure, will not mend
matters. However kind and considerate the older members of the Church
may be in their allusions to your course, you feel that you have not
their confidence fully. This will trouble you, perhaps irritate you. You
fancy that you are looked upon coldly. You detect little instances of
neglect. You imagine that certain expressions in sermons of your pastor
or the prayers of your brethren were meant for you. Things get worse the
longer you brood over them. You are tempted first to stay away from the
sacrament, and then to neglect the other means of grace. Some
well-meaning but clumsy brother pounces upon you at a most untimely
moment, administers a scathing rebuke, and goes on his way happy,
blessing the Lord that there is one Christian left who has the courage
to do his duty. Now you are really angry. You are ready to imagine that
all the rest of the Church would talk the same way if they should speak
their minds. Thus, little by little, you veer from your Christian
course, the mists gather around you, the stars disappear, you fall into
adverse currents, and, it may be, finally strike upon the rocks, and
make shipwreck of faith and a good conscience.
Will you say that the evils depicted flow not from your conduct, but
from the censoriousness of the Church? If all were silent, the result
would not be materially different. The Methodist Episcopal Church is
immovable in her position in regard to these things. If you violate her
Discipline, you can not shut out the thought that you are an unfaithful,
disloyal member of her communion. This alone will suffice to bring a
chill and a blight upon you. The world, too, see that you are not in
accord with your brethren--not at home in the place which you
occupy--and this encourages them to ply their arts to lead you still
further. If you resist, they remind you of your own past conduct, and
inquire, perhaps with a sneer, whence comes this sudden tenderness of
conscience. If others rebuke them, they refer to you, with another
sneer, as their exemplars. Surely, the poor pleasure which springs from
questionable diversions is bought at too high a price when it costs us
our consistency, the warm fellowship of Christian people, peace of
conscience, and the power to do good.
6. _In morals compromises are not only treason to truth and
righteousness, but compromised positions are of all the hardest to
defend in argument and maintain in practice._
You have acquaintances, intelligent and agreeable, but gay and
inconsiderate, who are unwearied in their efforts to draw you into their
circle. Their importunities are urgent, and it taxes all your powers of
resistance to withstand them. You grow weary of the conflict between
duty and inclination, and wish for rest. The thought occurs to you that
if you go a little way with your tempters they will be satisfied, and no
great harm will be done.
You reason amiss. To compromise with wrong is never the end of
conflict. You must conquer a peace. If you do not mean to make a
complete surrender to the world, the flesh, and the devil, there must be
a point where the line is drawn, and the stand taken. Where will you
place the line? Will you try to draw it half way between right and
wrong? If you do you will abandon a strong position for a weak one. If
you yield in regard to dancing in private parties, you will be invited,
in due time, to attend a ball. If you go to see some "moral drama"
performed at the museum, you will be urged to attend the theater. And
the assault made on your halfway position will be just as strong, the
conflict just as painful, and to refuse just as hard as you now find it.
The place of undoubted right is at once the safest to occupy and the
easiest to maintain, and it is bad generalship to try to intrench at any
other point. And to parley with the enemy is the next thing to a
surrender.
Fight it out, then, on this line. Life is brief, and close beyond it
lie heaven and hell. If you take one single step in the direction of
danger and ruin in search of fleeting pleasures, will you think, ten
thousand ages hence, that in this you were wise? The foolish diversions
in which you are now importuned to join war with health, waste time,
squander money, mar Christian reputation, dissipate serious thought,
hinder usefulness, attack every temporal and every eternal interest. Can
you persuade yourself that it is right for you, for the sake of an
hour's feverish excitement, to tarnish your religious example, grieve
your fellow-believers, lay a burden upon your pastor's heart, wantonly
throw away your power to do good, and give new courage to the wicked?
Will you still try to apologize for questionable pleasures? The entire
board of Bishops, the General Conference, your pastors, without an
exception, all the deeply pious men and women of the Church, believe
that dancing, card-playing, going to the theater and the races are
unwise, inexpedient, hurtful to the spiritual interests of those who
engage in them, and damaging to the moral power of the Church of God.
Nor do they stand alone in this solemn judgment. The most intelligent
and devoted Christians in the various Churches around us share these
convictions. Will you set yourself in array against whole Conferences,
Councils, and General Assemblies? And if you deem yourself equal in
judgment to all combined, let me ask you another question: Is your
conclusion as safe as theirs? They think it dangerous to dance, play
cards, and attend the theater. Are you equally confident that it is
dangerous _not_ to dance, _not_ to play cards, _not_ to attend the
theater? Is abstinence as perilous as indulgence? They fear that God
will not hold you guiltless if you venture into these frivolities. Are
you as fully persuaded that God will condemn you if you do not venture
into them? The danger is all on one side. Beware how you venture where
there is cause for hesitation. Remember, "he that doubteth," and yet
goes on when he might safely stop, "is damned."
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