“He that walketh with wise men shall be wise; but a
companion of fools shall be destroyed.”—_Proverbs
xiii:20._
That “a man may be known by the company he keeps,” has passed into a
proverb among all nations, thus attesting what has been the universal
experience. The fact would seem to be that a man’s associates either
find him, or make him like themselves. An acute but severe critic of
manners, who was too often led by his disposition and circumstances
to sink the philosopher in the satirist, has said: “Nothing is so
contagious as example. Never was there any considerable good or ill
action, that hath not produced its like. We imitate good ones through
emulation; and bad ones through that malignity in our nature, which
shame conceals, and example sets at liberty.”
This being the case, or anything like it, all, I think, must agree
that moral distinctions are not sufficiently cared for in social
intercourse. In forming our intimacies we are sometimes determined by
the mere accident of being thrown together; sometimes by a view to
connections and social position; sometimes by the fascination of what
are called companionable qualities; seldom, I fear, by thoughtful and
serious regard to the influence they are likely to have on character.
We forget that other attractions, of whatsoever nature, instead of
compensating for moral unfitness in a companion, only have the effect
to make such unfitness the more to be dreaded.
Let me introduce what I have to say on the importance of paying more
regard to moral distinctions in the choice of friends, by a few remarks
on what are called, by way of distinction, companionable qualities, and
on the early manifestation of a free, sociable, confiding turn of mind.
Most parents hail the latter, I believe, as the best of prognostics;
and in some respects it is. It certainly makes the child more
interesting as a child, and more easily governed; it often passes for
precocity of talent; at any rate, men are willing to construe it into
evidence of the facility with which he will make his way in the world.
The father is proud of such a son; the mother idolizes him. If from
any cause he is brought into comparison with a reserved, awkward, and
unyielding boy in the neighborhood, they are ready enough to felicitate
themselves, and others are ready enough to congratulate them, on the
difference. And yet I believe I keep within bounds, when I say that, of
the two, there is more than an even chance that the reserved, awkward,
and unyielding boy will give his parents less occasion for anxiety
and mortification, and become in the end the wiser and better man.
The reason is, that if a child from natural facility of disposition
is easily won over to good courses, he is also, from the same cause,
liable at any time to be seduced from these good courses into bad
ones. On the contrary, where a child, from rigor or stubbornness of
temper, is peculiarly hard to subdue or manage, there is this hope for
a compensation: if by early training, or the experience of life, or a
wise foresight of consequences, he is once set right, he is almost sure
to keep so.
It is not enough considered, that, in the present constitution of
society, men are not in so much danger from want of good dispositions,
as from want of firmness and steadiness of purpose. Hence it is that
gentle and affectionate minds, more perhaps than any others, stand
in need of solid principle and fixed habits of virtue and piety,
as a safeguard against the lures and fascinations of the world. A
man of a cold, hard, and ungenial nature is comparatively safe so
far as the temptations of society go: partly because of this very
impracticableness of his nature, and partly because his companionship
is not likely to be desired or sought even by the bad: he will be
left to himself. The corrupters of innocence in social intercourse
single out for their prey men of companionable qualities. Through
his companionable qualities the victim is approached, and by his
companionable qualities he is betrayed.
Let me not be misunderstood. Companionable qualities are not objected
to _as such_. When they spring from genuine goodness of heart, and
are the ornament of an upright life, they are as respectable as they
are amiable; and it would be well if Christians and all good men
cultivated them more than they do. If we would make virtue and religion
to be loved, we must make _ourselves_ to be loved _for_ our virtue
and religion; which would be done if we were faithful to carry the
gentleness and charity of the gospel into our manners as well as into
our morals. Nevertheless, we insist that companionable qualities, when
they have no better source than a sociable disposition, or, worse
still, an easy temper and loose principles, are full of danger to their
possessor, and full of danger to the community; especially where, from
any cause, but little regard is paid to moral distinctions in social
intercourse. We also say, that in such a state of society the danger
will be most imminent to those whom we should naturally be most anxious
to save—I mean, persons of a loving and yielding turn of mind.
[_Sunday, November 11._]
And this brings me back again to the position taken in the beginning
of this discourse. The reason why companionable qualities are attended
with so much danger is, that society itself is attended with so much
danger; and the reason why society is attended with so much danger
is, that social intercourse is not more under the control of moral
principles, moral rules, and moral sanctions.
My argument does not make it necessary to exaggerate the evils and
dangers of modern society. I am willing to suppose that there have
been times when society was much less pure than it is now; and again,
that there are places where it is much less pure than it is here; but
it does not follow that there are no evils or dangers now and here.
On the contrary, it is easy to see that there may be stages in the
progressive improvement of society, where the improvement itself will
have the effect, not to lessen, but to increase the danger, _so far
as good men are concerned_. In a community where vice abounds, where
the public manners are notoriously and grossly corrupt, good men are
put on their guard. They will not be injured by such society, for they
will have nothing to do with it. A broad line of demarcation is drawn
between what is expected from good men, and what is expected from bad
men; so that the example of the latter has no effect on the former
except to admonish and to warn. But let the work of refinement and
reform go on in general society until vice is constrained to wear a
decent exterior, until an air of decorum and respectability is thrown
over all public meetings and amusements, and one consequence will be
that the distinction between Christians and the world will not be so
clearly seen, or so carefully observed, as before. The standard of the
world, from the very fact that it is brought nearer to the standard of
the gospel, will be more frequently confounded with it; Christians will
feel at liberty to do whatever the world does, and the danger is, that
they will come at length to do it from the same principles.
Besides, are we sure that we have not formed too favorable an opinion
of the moral condition of general society—of that general society in
the midst of which we are now living, and to the influence of which we
are daily and hourly exposed? We should remember that in pronouncing
on the character of public opinion and public sentiment, we are very
likely to be affected and determined ourselves, not a little, by the
fact that we share in that very public opinion and public sentiment
which we are called upon to judge. I have no doubt that virtue, in
general, is esteemed by the world, or that, _other things being equal_,
a man of integrity will be preferred on account of his integrity. But
this is not enough. It shows that the multitude see, and are willing
to acknowledge, the dignity and worth of an upright course; but it
does not prove them to have that _abhorrence for sin_, which it is
the purpose and the tendency of the gospel to plant in all minds. If
they had this settled and rooted abhorrence for sin, which marks the
Christian, and without which a man can not be a Christian, they would
not prefer virtue to vice, “other things being equal,” but they would
do so whether other things were equal or not; they would knowingly keep
no terms with vice, however recommended or glossed over by interest or
worldly favor, or refined and elegant manners.
Now, I ask whether general society, even as it exists amongst us,
will bear this test? Is it not incontestable that very unscrupulous
and very dangerous men, if they happen to be men of talents, or men
of fashion, or men of peculiarly engaging manners, find but little
difficulty in insinuating themselves into what is called good society;
nay, are often among those who are most courted and caressed? Some
vices, I know, are understood to put one under the social ban; but it
is because they offend, not merely against morality and religion, but
against taste, against good-breeding, against certain conventions of
the world. To be convinced of this it is only necessary to observe that
the same, or even a much larger amount of acknowledged criminality,
manifested under other forms, is not found to be attended with the
same result. The mischiefs of this state of things are felt by all;
but especially by those who are growing up in what are generally
accounted the most favored walks of life. On entering into society
they see men of known profligacy mingling in the best circles, and
with the best people, if not indeed on terms of entire sympathy and
confidence, at least on those of the utmost possible respect and
courtesy. They see all this, and they see it every day; and it is by
such flagrant inconsistencies in those they look up to for guidance,
more perhaps than by any other one cause, that their own principles and
their own faith are undermined. And besides, being thus encouraged and
countenanced in associating with dissipated and profligate men in what
is called good society, they will be apt to construe it into liberty
to associate with them _anywhere_. At any rate the intimacy is begun.
As society is constituted at present, corrupting intimacies are not
infrequently begun amidst all the decencies of life, and, it may be,
in the presence and under the countenance and sanction of parents and
virtuous friends, which are afterward renewed and consummated, and this
too by an easy, natural, and almost necessary gradation, amidst scenes
of excess—perhaps in the haunts of ignominy and crime.
[_Sunday, November 18._]
If one should propose a reform in this respect, I am aware of the
difficulties and objections that would stand in his way.
Some would affirm it to be impracticable in the nature of things.
They would reason thus: “The circle in which a man visits and moves
is made for him, and not by him: at any rate, it is not, and can not
be, determined by moral considerations alone. Something depends on
education; something on family connections or mere vicinity; something
on similarity in tastes and pursuits; something also on equality or
approximation in wealth and standing. A poor man, or a man having a
bare competency, if he is as virtuous and industrious, is just as
_respectable_ as a rich man; but it is plain that he can not pitch his
style of living, or his style of hospitality, on the same scale of
expense. It is better for both, therefore, that they should visit in
different circles.” Perhaps it is; but what then? I am not recommending
an amalgamation of the different classes in society. I suppose that
such an amalgamation would neither be practicable nor desirable in
the existing state of things. All I contend for is, that in every
class, open and gross immorality of any kind should exclude a man from
reputable company. Will any one say that this is impracticable? Let
a man, through untoward events, but not by any fault or neglect of
his own, be reduced in his circumstances,—let a man become generally
odious, not in consequence of any immorality, but because, perhaps,
he has embraced the unpopular side in politics or religion—let a man
omit some trifling formality which is construed into a vulgarity, or
a personal affront, and people do not appear to find much difficulty
in dropping the acquaintance. If, then, it is so easy a thing to drop
a man’s acquaintance for other reasons, and for no reason,—from mere
prejudice, from mere caprice,—will it still be pretended that it can
not be done at the command of duty and religion?
Again, it may be objected that, if you banish a man from general
society for his immoralities, you will drive him to despair, and so
destroy the only remaining hope of his reformation. What! are you going
_to keep society corrupt_ in the vain expectation that a corrupt state
of society will help to reform its corrupt members? Besides, I grant
that we should have compassion on the guilty; but I also hold that we
should have compassion on the innocent too. Would you, therefore, allow
a bad man to continue in good society, when the chances are a thousand
to one that he will make others as bad as himself, and not more than
one to a thousand that he himself will be reclaimed? Moreover, this
reasoning is fallacious throughout. By expelling a dissipated and
profligate man from good society, instead of destroying all hope of
his recovery, you do in fact resort to the only remaining means of
reforming one over whom a fear of God, and a sense of character, and
the upbraidings of conscience have lost their power. What cares he for
principle, or God, or an hereafter? Nothing, therefore, is so likely to
encourage and embolden him to go on in his guilty course, as the belief
that he will be allowed to do so without the forfeiture of the only
thing he does care for, his reputable standing in the world. On the
other hand, nothing is so likely to arrest him in these courses, and
bring him to serious reflection, as the stern and determined threat of
absolute exclusion from good society, if he persists.
Another objection will also be made which has stronger claims on our
sympathy and respect. We shall be told that the innocent as well as
the guilty will suffer—the guilty man’s friends and connections,
who will probably feel the indignity more than he does himself. God
forbid that we should needlessly add to the pain of those who are thus
connected! But we must remember that the highest form of friendship
does not consist in blindly falling in with the feelings of those whom
we would serve, but in consulting what will be for their real and
permanent good. If, therefore, the course here recommended has been
shown to be not only indispensable to public morals, but more likely
than any other to reclaim the offender, it is clearly not more a
dictate of justice to the community, than of Christian charity to the
parties more immediately concerned. Consider, also, how much is asked,
when a good man is called upon to open his doors to persons without
virtue and without principle. Unless the social circle is presided
over by a spirit which will rebuke and frown away immorality, whatever
fashionable names and disguises it may wear,—unless your sons and
daughters can meet together without being in danger of having their
faith disturbed by the jeers of the infidel, or their purity sullied
by the breath of the libertine, neither they nor you are safe in the
most innocent enjoyments and recreations. Parents at least should take
a deep interest in this subject, if they do not wish to see the virtue,
which they have reared under the best domestic discipline, blighted and
corrupted before their eyes by the temptations to which their children
are almost necessarily exposed in general society—a society which they
can not escape except by going out of the world, and which they can not
partake of without endangering the loss of what is of more value than a
thousand worlds.
[_Sunday, November 25._]
I have failed altogether in my purpose in this discourse if I have
not done something to increase your distrust of mere companionable
qualities, when not under the control of moral and religious principle;
and also of the moral character and moral influence of general society,
as at present constituted. Still you may ask, “If I associate with
persons worse than myself, how can it be made out to be more probable
that they will drag me down to their level, than that I shall lift
them up to mine?” The answer to this question, I hardly need say,
depends, in no small measure, on the reason or motive which induces the
association. If you mix with the world, not for purposes of pleasure or
self-advantage—if you resort to society, not for society as an end, but
as a means to a higher end, _the improvement of society itself_—you do
but take up the heavenly mission which Christ began. For not being able
to make the distinction, through the hollowness and corruption of their
hearts, the Pharisees thought it to be a just ground of accusation
against our Lord, that he was willing to be accounted the friend of
publicans and sinners. Let the same mind be in you that was also in
Christ Jesus, and we can not doubt that the spirit which inspires you
will preserve you wherever you may go. It is of such persons that our
Lord has said: “Behold, I give unto you power to tread on serpents and
scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy; and nothing shall by
any means harm you.” Very far am I, therefore, from denying that we may
do good in society, as well as incur danger and evil. Even in common
friendships frequent occasions will present themselves for mutual
service, for mutual counsel and admonition. Let me impress upon you
this duty. Perhaps there is not one among you all, who has not at this
moment companions on whom he can confer an infinite blessing. If there
is a weak place in their characters, if to your knowledge they are
contemplating a guilty purpose, if they are on the brink of entering
into dangerous connections, by a timely, affectionate, and earnest
remonstrance you may save them from ruin. _Remember, we shall all be
held responsible, not only for the evil which we do ourselves, but for
the evil which we might prevent others from doing; it is not enough
that we stand; we must endeavor to hold up our friends._
Very different from this, however, is the ordinary commerce of society;
and hence its danger. If we mix with the world for the pleasure it
affords, we shall be likely to be among the first to be reconciled to
the freedom and laxity it allows. The world is not brought up to us,
but we sink down to the world; the drop becomes of the consistence
and color of the ocean into which it falls; the ocean remains itself
unchanged. In the words of an old writer: “Though the well-disposed
will remain some good space without corruption, yet time, I know not
how, worketh a wound in him, which weakness of ours considered, and
easiness of nature, apt to be deceived, looked into, they do best
provide for themselves that separate themselves as far as they can
from the bad, and draw as nigh to the good, as by any possibility they
can attain to.” “He that walketh with wise men shall be wise; but a
companion of fools shall be destroyed.”