Few things are more common among business-doing men, than _hard
dealing_; yet few things reflect more dishonor on a Christian
community. It seems, in general, to be regarded as morally right,--in
defiance of all rules, whether _golden_ or not,--to get as 'good a
bargain' in trade, as possible; and this is defended as unavoidable, on
account of the _state of society_! But what _produced_ this state of
society? Was it not the spirit of avarice? What will change it for the
better? Nothing but the renunciation of this spirit, and a willingness
to sacrifice, in this respect, for the public welfare.
We are _pagans_ in this matter, in spite of our professions. It would
be profitable for us to take lessons on this subject from the
Mohammedans. They never have, it is said, but one price for an article;
and to ask the meanest shopkeeper to lower his price, is to _insult_
him. Would this were the only point, in which the Christian community
are destined yet to learn even from Mohammedans.
To ask one price and take another, or to offer one price and give
another, besides being a loss of time, is highly dishonorable to the
parties. It is, in fact, a species of lying; and it answers no one
advantageous purpose, either to the buyer or seller. I hope that every
young man will start in life with a resolution never to be _hard in his
dealings_.
'It is an evil which will correct itself;' say those who wish to avail
themselves of its present advantages a little longer. But when and
where did a general evil correct itself? When or where was an erroneous
practice permanently removed, except by a change of public sentiment?
And what has ever produced a change in the public sentiment but the
determination of individuals, or their combined action?
While on this topic, I will hazard the assertion--even at the risk of
its being thought misplaced--that great effects are yet to be produced
on public opinion, in this country, by associations of spirited and
intelligent young men. I am not now speaking of associations for
political purposes, though I am not sure that even these _might_ not be
usefully conducted; but of associations for mutual improvement, and for
the correction and elevation of the public morals. The "Boston Young
Men's Society," afford a specimen of what may be done in this way; and
numerous associations of the kind have sprung up and are springing up
in various parts of the country. Judiciously managed, they must
inevitably do great good;--though it should not be forgotten that they
_may_ also be productive of immense evil.
CHAPTER III.
On Amusements and Indulgences.
SECTION I. _On Gaming._
Even Voltaire asserts that 'every gambler is, has been, or will be a
robber.' Few practices are more ancient, few more general, and few, if
any, more pernicious than gaming. An English writer has ingeniously
suggested that the Devil himself might have been the first player, and
that he contrived the plan of introducing games among men, to afford
them temporary amusement, and divert their attention from themselves.
'What numberless disciples,' he adds, 'of his sable majesty, might we
not count in our own metropolis!'
Whether his satanic majesty has any very direct agency in this matter
or not, one thing is certain;--gaming is opposed to the happiness of
mankind, and ought, in every civilized country, to be suppressed by
public opinion. By gaming, however, I here refer to those cases only in
which property is at stake, to be won or lost. The subject of
_diversions_ will be considered in another place.
Gaming is an evil, because, in the first place, it is a practice which
_produces_ nothing. He who makes two blades of grass grow where but one
grew before, has usually been admitted to be a public benefactor; for
he is a _producer_. So is he who combines or arranges these productions
in a useful manner,--I mean the mechanic, manufacturer, &c. He is
equally a public benefactor, too, who produces _mental_ or _moral_
wealth, as well as physical. In gaming, it is true, property is shifted
from one individual to another, and here and there one probably gains
more than he loses; but nothing is actually _made_, or _produced_. If
the whole human family were all skilful gamesters, and should play
constantly for a year, there would not be a dollar more in the world at
the end of the year, than there was at its commencement. On the
contrary, is it not obvious that there would be much _less_, besides
even an immense loss of time?[9]
But, secondly, gaming favors corruption of manners. It is difficult to
trace the progress of the gamester's mind, from the time he commences
his downward course, but we know too well the goal at which he is
destined to arrive. There may be exceptions, but not many; generally
speaking, every gamester, sooner or later travels the road to
perdition, and often adds to his own wo, by dragging others along with
him.
Thirdly, it discourages industry. He who is accustomed to receive large
sums at once, which bear no sort of proportion to the labor by which
they are obtained, will gradually come to regard the moderate but
constant and certain rewards of industrious exertion as insipid. He is
also in danger of falling into the habit of paying an undue regard to
hazard or chance, and of becoming devoted to the doctrine of fatality.
As to the few who are skilful enough to gain more, on the whole, than
they lose, scarcely one of them pays any regard to prudence or economy
in his expenditures. What is thus lightly acquired, is lightly disposed
of. Or if, in one instance in a thousand, it happens otherwise, the
result is still unfavorable. It is but to make the miser still more a
miser, and the covetous only the more so. Man is so constituted as to
be unable to bear, with safety, a rapid accumulation of property. To
the truth of this, all history attests, whether ancient or modern,
sacred or profane.
The famous philosopher Locke, in his 'Thoughts on Education,' thus
observes: 'It is certain, gaming leaves no satisfaction behind it to
those who reflect when it is over; and it no way profits either body or
mind. As to their estates, if it strike so deep as to concern them, it
is a _trade_ then, and not a _recreation_, wherein few thrive; and at
best a thriving gamester has but a poor trade of it, who fills his
pockets at the price of his reputation.'
In regard to the _criminality_ of the practice, a late writer has the
following striking remarks.
'As to gaming, it is always _criminal_, either in itself or in its
tendency. The basis of it is covetousness; a desire to take from others
something for which you have neither given, nor intend to give an
equivalent. No gambler was ever yet a happy man, and few gamblers have
escaped being positively miserable. Remember, too, that to game for
_nothing_ is still _gaming_; and naturally leads to gaming for
_something_. It is sacrificing time, and that, too, for the worst of
purposes.
'I have kept house for nearly forty years; I have reared a family; I
have entertained as many friends as most people; and I never had cards,
dice, a chess board, nor any implement of gaming under my roof. The
hours that young men spend in this way, are hours murdered; precious
hours that ought to be spent either in reading or in writing; or in
rest; preparatory to the duties of the dawn.
'Though I do not agree with those base flatterers who declare the army
to be _the best school for statesmen_, it is certainly a school in
which we learn, experimentally, many useful lessons; and in this school
I learned that men fond of gaming, are rarely, if ever, trust-worthy. I
have known many a decent man rejected in the way of promotion, only
because he was addicted to gaming. Men, in that state of life, cannot
_ruin_ themselves by gaming, for they possess no fortune, nor money;
but the taste for gaming is always regarded as an indication of a
radically bad disposition; and I can truly say that I never in my whole
life--and it has been a long and eventful one--knew a man fond of
gaming, who was not, in some way or other, unworthy of confidence. This
vice creeps on by very slow degrees, till, at last, it becomes an
ungovernable passion, swallowing up every good and kind feeling of the
heart.'
For my own part I know not the _names_ of cards; and could never take
interest enough in card-playing to remember them. I have always
wondered how sober and intelligent people, who have consciences, and
believe the doctrine of accountability to God--how professing
Christians even, as is the case in some parts of this country, can sit
whole evenings at cards. Why, what notions have they of the value of
time? Can they conceive of Him, whose example we are bound to follow,
as engaged in this way? The thought should shock us! What a Herculean
task Christianity has yet to accomplish!
The excess of this vice has caused even the overthrow of empires. It
leads to conspiracies, and creates conspirators. Men overwhelmed with
debt, are always ready to obey the orders of any bold chieftain who may
attempt a decisive stroke, even against government itself. Catiline had
very soon under his command an army of scoundrels. 'Every man,' says
Sallust, 'who by his follies or losses at the gaming table had consumed
the inheritance of his fathers, and all who were sufferers by such
misery, were the friends of this perverse man.'
Perhaps this vice has nowhere been carried to greater excess than in
France. There it has its administration, its chief, its stockholders,
its officers, and its priests. It has its domestics, its pimps, its
spies, its informers, its assassins, its bullies, its aiders, its
abettors,--in fact, its scoundrels of every description; particularly
its hireling swindlers, who are paid for decoying the unwary into this
'hell upon earth,' so odious to morality, and so destructive to virtue
and Christianity.
In England, this vice has at all times been looked upon as one of
pernicious consequence to the commonwealth, and has, therefore, long
been prohibited. The money lost in this way, is even recoverable again
by law. Some of the laws on this subject were enacted as early as the
time of Queen Anne, and not a few of the penalties are very severe.
Every species of gambling is strictly forbidden in the British army,
and occasionally punished with great severity, by order of the
commander in chief. These facts show the state of public opinion in
that country, in regard to the evil tendency of this practice.
Men of immense wealth have, in some instances, entered gambling houses,
and in the short space of an hour have found themselves reduced to
absolute beggary. 'Such men often lose not only what their purses or
their bankers can supply, but houses, lands, equipage, jewels; in fine,
every thing of which they call themselves masters, even to their very
clothes; then perhaps a pistol terminates their mortal career.'
Fifteen hours a day are devoted by many infatuated persons in some
countries to this unhappy practice. In the middle of the day, while the
wife directs with prudence and economy the administration of her
husband's house, he abandons himself to become the prey of rapacious
midnight and _mid-day_ robbers. The result is, that he contracts debts,
is stripped of his property, and his wife and children are sent to the
alms-house, whilst he, perhaps, _perishes in a prison_.
My life has been chiefly spent in a situation where comparatively
little of this vice prevails. Yet, I have known one individual who
divided his time between hunting and gaming. About four days in the
week were regularly devoted to the latter practice. From breakfast to
dinner, from dinner to tea, from tea to nine o'clock, this was his
regular employment, and was pursued incessantly. The man was about
seventy years of age. He did not play for very large sums, it is true;
seldom more than five to twenty dollars; and it was his uniform
practice to retire precisely at nine o'clock, and without supper.
Generally, however, the night is more especially devoted to this
employment. I have occasionally been at public houses, or on board
vessels where a company was playing, and have known many hundreds of
dollars lost in a single night. In one instance, the most horrid
midnight oaths and blasphemy were indulged. Besides, there is an almost
direct connection between the gambling table and brothel; and the one
is seldom long unaccompanied by the other.
Scarcely less obvious and direct is the connection between this vice
and intemperance. If the drunkard is not always a gamester, the
gamester is almost without exception intemperate. There is for the most
part a union of the three--horrible as the alliance may be--I mean
gambling, intemperance, and debauchery.
There is even a species of intoxication attendant on gambling. _Rede_,
in speaking of one form of this vice which prevails in Europe, says;
'It is, in fact, a PROMPT MURDERER; irregular as all other games of
hazard--rapid as lightning in its movements--its strokes succeed each
other with an activity that redoubles the ardor of the player's blood,
and often deprives him of the advantage of reflection. In fact, a man
after half an hour's play, who for the whole night may not have taken
any thing stronger than water, has all the appearance of drunkenness.'
And who has not seen the flushed cheek and the red eye, produced simply
by the excitement of an ordinary gaming table?
It is an additional proof of the evil of gaming that every person
devoted to it, _feels_ it to be an evil. Why then does he not refrain?
Because he has sold himself a slave to the deadly habit, as effectually
as the drunkard to his cups.
Burgh, in his Dignity of Human Nature, sums up the evils of this
practice in a single paragraph:
'Gaming is an amusement wholly unworthy of rational beings, having
neither the pretence of exercising the body, of exerting ingenuity, or
of giving any natural pleasure, and owing its entertainment wholly to
an unnatural and vitiated taste;--the cause of infinite loss of time,
of enormous destruction of money, of irritating the passions, of
stirring up avarice, of innumerable sneaking tricks and frauds, of
encouraging idleness, of disgusting people against their proper
employments, and of sinking and debasing all that is truly great and
valuable in the mind.'
Let me warn you, then, my young readers,--nay, more, let me _urge_ you
never to enter this dreadful road. Shun it as you would the road to
destruction. Take not the first step,--the moment you do, all may be
lost. Say not that you can command yourselves, and can stop when you
approach the confines of danger. So thousands have thought as sincerely
as yourselves--and yet they fell. 'The probabilities that we shall fall
where so many have fallen,' says Dr. Dwight, 'are millions to one; and
the contrary opinion is only the dream of lunacy.'
When you are inclined to think yourselves safe, consider the multitudes
who once felt themselves equally so, have been corrupted, distressed,
and ruined by gaming, both for this world, and that which is to come.
Think how many families have been plunged by it in beggary, and
overwhelmed by it in vice. Think how many persons have become liars at
the gaming table; how many perjured; how many drunkards; how many
blasphemers; how many suicides. 'If Europe,' said Montesquieu, 'is to
be ruined, it will be ruined by gaming.' If the United States are to be
ruined, gaming in some of its forms will be a very efficient agent in
accomplishing the work.
Some of the most common games practised in this country, are cards,
dice, billiards, shooting matches, and last, though not _least_,
lotteries. Horse-racing and cockfighting are still in use in some parts
of the United States, though less so than formerly. In addition to the
general remarks already made, I now proceed to notice a few of the
particular forms of this vice.
1. CARDS, DICE, AND BILLIARDS.
The foregoing remarks will be applicable to each of these three modes
of gambling. But in regard to cards, there seems to be something
peculiarly enticing. It is on this account that youth are required to
be doubly cautious on this point. So bewitching were cards and dice
regarded in England, that penalties were laid on those who should be
found playing with them, as early as the reign of George II. Card
playing, however, still prevails in Europe, and to a considerable
extent in the United States. There is a very common impression abroad,
that the mere _playing_ at cards is in itself innocent: that the danger
consists in the tendency to excess; and against excess most people
imagine themselves sufficiently secure. But as 'the best throw at dice,
is to throw them away,' so the best move with cards would be, to commit
them to the flames.
2. SHOOTING MATCHES.
This is a disgraceful practice, which was formerly in extensive use in
these States at particular seasons, especially on the day preceding the
annual Thanksgiving. I am sorry to say, that there are places where it
prevails, even now. Numbers who have nothing better to do, collect
together, near some tavern or grog-shop, for the sole purpose of trying
their skill at shooting fowls. Tied to a stake at a short distance, a
poor innocent and helpless fowl is set as a mark to furnish sport for
idle men and boys.
Could the creature be put out of its misery by the first discharge of
the musket, the evil would not appear so great. But this is seldom the
case. Several discharges are usually made, and between each, a running,
shouting and jumping of the company takes place, not unfrequently
mingled with oaths and curses.
The object of this infernal torture being at length despatched, and
suspended on the muzzle of the gun as a trophy of victory, a rush is
made to the bar or counter, and brandy and rum, accompanied by lewd
stories, and perhaps quarrelling and drunkenness, often close the
scene.
It rarely fails that a number of children are assembled on such
occasions, who listen with high glee to the conversation, whether in
the field or at the inn. If it be the grossest profaneness, or the
coarsest obscenity, they will sometimes pride themselves in imitating
it, thinking it to be manly; and in a like spirit will partake of the
glass, and thus commence the drunkard's career.--This practice is
conducted somewhat differently in different places, but not essentially
so.
It is much to the credit of the citizens of many parts of New England
that their good sense will not, any longer, tolerate a practice so
brutal, and scarcely exceeded in this respect by the cockfights in
other parts of the country. As a substitute for this practice a circle
is drawn on a board or post, of a certain size, and he who can hit
within the circle, gains the fowl. This is still a species of _gaming_,
but is divested of much of the ferocity and brutality of the former.
3. HORSERACING AND COCKFIGHTING.
It is only in particular sections of the United States that public
opinion tolerates these practices extensively. A horserace, in New
England, is a very rare occurrence. A cockfight, few among us have ever
witnessed. Wherever the cruel disposition to indulge in seeing animals
fight together is allowed, it is equally degrading to human nature with
that fondness which is manifested in other countries for witnessing a
bull fight. It is indeed the _same_ disposition, only existing in a
smaller degree in the former case than in the latter.
Montaigne thinks it a reflection upon human nature itself that few
people take delight in seeing beasts caress and play together, while
almost every one is pleased to see them lacerate and worry one another.
Should your lot be cast in a region where any of these inhuman
practices prevail, let it be your constant and firm endeavor, not
merely to keep aloof from them yourselves, but to prevail on all those
over whom God may have given you influence, to avoid them likewise. To
enable you to face the public opinion when a point of importance is at
stake, it will be useful to consult carefully the first chapter of this
work.
I am sorry to have it in my power to state that in the year 1833 there
was a _bull fight_ four miles southward of Philadelphia. It was
attended by about 1500 persons; mostly of the very lowest classes from
the city. It was marked by many of the same evils which attend these
cruel sports in other countries, and by the same reckless disregard of
mercy towards the poor brutes who suffered in the conflict. It is to be
hoped, however, for the honor of human nature, that the good sense of
the community will not permit this detestable custom to prevail.
[9] Every man who enjoys the privileges of civilized society,
owes it to that society to earn as much as he can; or, in other
words, improve every minute of his time. He who loses an hour,
or a minute, is the price of that hour debtor to the community.
Moreover, it is a debt which he can never repay.
SECTION II. _On Lotteries._
Lotteries are a species of gambling; differing from other kinds only in
being tolerated either by the law of the land, or by that of public
opinion. The proofs of this assertion are innumerable. Not only young
men, but even married women have, in some instances, become so addicted
to ticket buying, as to ruin themselves and their families.
From the fact that efforts have lately been made in several of the most
influential States in the Union to suppress them, it might seem
unnecessary, at first view, to mention this subject. But although the
letter of the law may oppose them, there is a portion of our citizens
who will continue to buy tickets clandestinely; and consequently
somebody will continue to sell them in the same manner. Penalties will
not suppress them at once. It will be many years before the evil can be
wholly eradicated. The flood does not cease at the moment when the
windows of heaven are closed, but continues, for some time, its
ravages. It is necessary, therefore, that the young should guard
themselves against the temptations which they hold out.
It may be said that important works, such as monuments, and churches,
have been completed by means of lotteries. I know it is so. But the
profits which arise from the sale of tickets are a tax upon the
community, and generally upon the poorer classes: or rather they are a
species of swindling. That good is sometimes done with these ill-gotten
gains, is admitted; but money procured in any other unlawful, immoral,
or criminal way, could be applied to build bridges, roads, churches,
&c. Would the advantages thus secured, however, justify an unlawful
means of securing them? Does the end sanctify the means?
It is said, too, that individuals, as well as associations, have been,
in a few instances, greatly aided by prizes in lotteries. Some
bankrupts have paid their debts, _like_ honest men, with them. This
they might do with stolen money. But cases of even this kind, are rare.
The far greater part of the money drawn in the form of prizes in
lotteries, only makes its possessor more avaricious, covetous, or
oppressive than before. Money obtained in this manner commonly ruins
mind, body, or estate; sometimes all three.
Lottery schemes have been issued in the single State of New York, in
twelve years, to the amount of $37,000,000. If other States have
engaged in the business, in the same proportion to their population,
the sum of all the schemes issued in the United States within that time
has been $240,000,000. A sum sufficient to maintain in comfort, if not
affluence, the entire population of some of the smaller States for more
than thirty years.
Now what has been gained by all this? It is indeed true, that the
discount on this sum, amounting to $36,000,000, has been expended in
paying a set of men for _one_ species of labor. If we suppose their
average salary to have been $500, no less than 6,000 clerks, managers,
&c., may have obtained by this means, a support during the last twelve
years. But what have the 6,000 men _produced_ all this while? Has not
their whole time been spent in receiving small sums (from five to fifty
dollars) from individuals, putting them together, as it were, in a
heap, and afterwards distributing a part of it in sums, with a few
exceptions, equally small?--Have they added one dollar, or even one
cent to the original stock? I have already admitted, that he who makes
two blades of grass grow where only one grew before, is a benefactor to
his country; but these men have not done so much as that.
A few draw prizes, it has been admitted. Some of that few make a good
use of them. But the vast majority are injured. They either become less
active and industrious, or more parsimonious and miserly; and not a few
become prodigals or bankrupts at once. In any of these events, they are
of course unfitted for the essential purposes of human existence. It is
not given to humanity to _bear_ a sudden acquisition of wealth. The
best of men are endangered by it. As in knowledge, so in the present
case, what is gained by hard digging is usually retained; and what is
gained easily usually goes quickly. There is this difference, however,
that the moral character is usually lost with the one, but not always
with the other.
These are a part of the evils connected with lotteries. To compute
their sum total would be impossible. The immense waste of money and
time (and time is money) by those persons who are in the habit of
buying tickets, to say nothing of the cigars smoked, the spirits, wine,
and ale drank, the suppers eaten, and the money lost at cards, while
lounging about lottery offices, although even this constitutes but a
_part_ of the waste, is absolutely incalculable. The suffering of
wives, and children, and parents, and brothers, and sisters, together
with that loss of health, and temper, and reputation, which is either
directly or indirectly connected, would swell the sum to an amount
sufficient to alarm every one, who intends to be an honest,
industrious, and respectable citizen.
It is yours, my young friends, to put a stop to this tremendous evil.
It is your duty, and it should be your pleasure, to give that _tone_ to
the public sentiment, without which, in governments like this, written
laws are powerless.
Do not say that the influence of _one person_ cannot effect much.
Remember that the power of example is almost omnipotent. In debating
whether you may not venture to buy one more ticket, remember that if
you do so, you adopt a course which, if taken by every other individual
in the United States (and who out of thirteen millions has not the same
_right_ as yourself?) would give abundant support to the whole lottery
system, with all its horrors. And could you in that case remain
guiltless? Can the fountains of such a sickly stream be pure? You would
not surely condemn the waters of a mighty river while you were one of a
company engaged in filling the springs and rills that unite to form it.
Remember that just in proportion as you contribute, by your example, to
discourage this species of gambling, just in the same proportion will
you contribute to stay the progress of a tremendous scourge, and to
enforce the execution of good and salutary laws.
With this pernicious practice, I have always been decidedly at war. I
believe the system to be wholly wrong, and that those who countenance
it, in any way whatever, are wholly inexcusable.
SECTION III. _On Theatres._
Much is said by the friends of theatres about what they _might_ be; and
not a few persons indulge the hope that the theatre may yet be made a
school of morality. But my business at present is with it _as it is_,
and as it has hitherto been. The reader will be more benefited by
existing _facts_ than sanguine anticipations, or visionary predictions.
A German medical writer calculates that one in 150 of those who
frequently attend theatres become diseased and die, from the impurity
of the atmosphere. The reason is, that respiration contaminates the
air; and where large assemblies are collected in close rooms, the air
is corrupted much more rapidly than many are aware. Lavoisier, the
French chemist, states, that in a theatre, from the commencement to the
end of the play, the oxygen or vital air is diminished in the
proportion of from 27 to 21, or nearly one fourth; and consequently is
in the same proportion less fit for respiration, than it was before.
This is probably the general truth; but the number of persons present,
and the amount of space, must determine, in a great measure, the
rapidity with which the air is corrupted. The pit is the most unhealthy
part of a play-house, because the carbonic acid which is formed by
respiration is heavier than atmospheric air, and accumulates near the
floor.
It is painful to look round on a gay audience of 1500 persons, and
consider that ten of this number will die in consequence of breathing
the bad air of the room so frequently, and so long. But I believe this
estimate is quite within bounds.
There are however other results to be dreaded. The practice of going
out of a heated, as well as an impure atmosphere late in the evening,
and often without sufficient clothing, exposes the individual to cold,
rheumatism, pleurisy, and fever. Many a young lady,--and, I fear, not a
few young gentlemen,--get the consumption by taking colds in this
manner.
Not only the health of the body, but the mind and morals, too, are
often injured. Dr. Griscom, of New York, in a report on the causes of
vice and crime in that city, made a few years since, says; 'Among the
causes of vicious excitement in our city, none appear to be so powerful
in their nature as theatrical amusements. The number of boys and young
men who have become determined thieves, in order to procure the means
of introduction to the theatres and circuses, would appal the feelings
of every virtuous mind, could the whole truth be laid open before them.
'In the case of the feebler sex, the result is still worse. A relish
for the amusements of the theatre, without the means of indulgence,
becomes too often a motive for listening to the first suggestion of the
seducer, and thus prepares the unfortunate captive of sensuality for
the haunts of infamy, and a total destitution of all that is valuable
in the mind and character of woman.'
The following fact is worthy of being considered by the friends and
patrons of theatres. During the progress of one of the most ferocious
revolutions which ever shocked the face of heaven, theatres, in Paris
alone, multiplied from six to twenty-five. Now one of two conclusions
follow from this: Either the spirit of the times produced the
institutions, or the institutions cherished the spirit of the times;
and this will certainly prove that they are either the parents of vice
or the offspring of it.
The philosopher Plato assures us, that 'plays raise the passions, and
prevent the use of them; and of course are dangerous to morality.'
'The seeing of _Comedies_,' says Aristotle, 'ought to be forbidden to
young people, till age and discipline have made them proof against
debauchery.'
Tacitus says, 'The German women were guarded against danger, and
preserved their purity by having no play-houses among them.'
Even Ovid represents theatrical amusements as a grand source of
corruption, and he advised Augustus to suppress them.
The infidel philosopher Rousseau, declared himself to be of opinion,
that the theatre is, in all cases, a school of vice. Though he had
himself written for the stage, yet, when it was proposed to establish a
theatre in the city of Geneva, he wrote against the project with zeal
and great force, and expressed the opinion that every friend of pure
morals ought to oppose it.
Sir John Hawkins, in his life of Johnson, observes:--'Although it is
said of plays that they teach morality, and of the stage that it is the
mirror of human life, these assertions are mere declamation, and have
no foundation in truth or experience. On the contrary, a play-house,
and the regions about it, are the very hot-beds of vice.'
Archbishop Tillotson, after some pointed and forcible reasoning against
it, pronounces the play-house to be 'the devil's chapel,' 'a nursery of
licentiousness and vice,' and 'a recreation which ought not to be
allowed among a civilized, much less a Christian people.'
Bishop Collier solemnly declared, that he was persuaded that 'nothing
had done more to debauch the age in which he lived, than the stage
poets and the play-house.'
Sir Matthew Hale, having in early life experienced the pernicious
effects of attending the theatre, resolved, when he came to London,
never to see a play again, and to this resolution he adhered through
life.
Burgh says; 'What does it avail that the piece itself be
unexceptionable, if it is to be interlarded with lewd songs or dances,
and tagged at the conclusion with a ludicrous and beastly farce? I
cannot therefore, in conscience, give youth any other advice than to
avoid such diversions as cannot be indulged without the utmost danger
of perverting their taste, and corrupting their morals.'
Dr. Johnson's testimony on this subject is nearly as pointed as that of
Archbishop Tillotson; and Lord Kaimes speaks with much emphasis of the
'poisonous influence,' of theatres.
Their evil tendency is seldom better illustrated than by the following
anecdote, from an individual in New York, on whose statements we may
place the fullest reliance.
'F. B. a young man of about twenty-two, called on the writer in the
fall of 1831 for employment. He was a journeyman printer; was recently
from Kentucky; and owing to his want of employment, as he said, was
entirely destitute, not only of the comforts, but the necessaries of
life. I immediately procured him a respectable boarding house, gave him
employment, and rendered his situation as comfortable as my limited
means would permit.
'He had not been with me long, before he expressed a desire to go to
the theatre. Some great actor was to perform on a certain night, and he
was very anxious to see him. I warned him of the consequences, and told
him, my own experience and observation had convinced me that it was a
very dangerous place for young men to visit. But my warning did no
good. He neglected his business, and went. I reproved him gently, but
retained him in my employment. He continued to go, notwithstanding all
my remonstrances to the contrary. At length my business suffered so
much from his neglecting to attend to it as he ought, that I was under
the necessity of discharging him in self-defence. He got temporary
employment in different offices of the city, where the same fault was
found with him. Immediately after, he accepted a situation of
bar-keeper in a porter house or tavern attached to the theatre. His
situation he did not hold long--from what cause, I know not.
'He again applied to me for work; but as his habits were not reformed,
I did not think it prudent to employ him, although I said or did
nothing to injure him in the estimation of others. Disappointed in
procuring employment in a business to which he had served a regular
apprenticeship, being pennyless, and seeing no bright prospect for the
future, he enlisted as a common soldier in the United States' service.
'He had not been in his new vocation long, before he was called upon,
with other troops, to defend our citizens from the attacks of the
Indians. But when the troops had nearly reached their place of
destination, that 'invisible scourge,' the cholera, made its appearance
among them. Desertion was the consequence, and among others who fled,
was the subject of this article.
'He returned to New York--made application at several different offices
for employment, without success. In a few days news came that he had
been detected in pilfering goods from the house of his landlord. A
warrant was immediately issued for him--he was seized, taken to the
police office--convicted, and sentenced to six months' hard labor in
the penitentiary. His name being published in the newspapers, in
connection with those of other convicts--was immediately recognised by
the officer under whom he had enlisted.--This officer proceeds to the
city--claims the prisoner--and it is at length agreed that he shall
return to the United States' service, where he shall, for the first six
months, be compelled to roll sand as a punishment for desertion, serve
out the five years for which he had enlisted, and then be given up to
the city authorities, to suffer for the crime of pilfering.
'It is thus that we see a young man, of good natural abilities,
scarcely twenty-three years of age, compelled to lose six of the most
valuable years of his life, besides ruining a fair reputation, and
bringing disgrace upon his parents and friends, from the apparently
harmless desire of seeing dramatic performances. Ought not this to be a
warning to others, who are travelling on, imperceptibly in the same
road to ruin?'
* * * * *
Theatres are of ancient date. One built of wood, in the time of Cicero
and Caesar, would contain 80,000 persons. The first stone theatre in
Rome, was built by Pompey, and would contain 40,000. There are one or
two in Europe, at the present time, that will accommodate 4,000 or
5,000.
In England, until 1660, public opinion did not permit _females_ to
perform in theatres, but the parts were performed by boys.
If theatres have a reforming tendency, this result might have been
expected in France, where they have so long been popular and
flourishing. In 1807, there were in France 166 theatres, and 3968
performers. In 1832 there were in Paris alone 17, which could
accommodate 21,000 persons. But we do not find that they reformed the
Parisians; and it is reasonable to expect they never will.
Let young men remember, that in this, as well as in many other things,
there is only one point of security, viz. total abstinence.
SECTION IV. _Use of Tobacco._
1. SMOKING.
Smoking has every where, in Europe and America, become a tremendous
evil; and if we except Holland and Germany, nowhere more so than in
this country. Indeed we are already fast treading in the steps of those
countries, and the following vivid description of the miseries which
this filthy practice entails on the Germans will soon be quite
applicable to the people of the United States, unless we can induce the
rising generation to turn the current of public opinion against it.
'This plague, like the Egyptian plague of frogs, is felt every where,
and in every thing. It poisons the streets, the clubs, and the
coffee-houses;--furniture, clothes, equipage, persons, are redolent of
the abomination. It makes even the dulness of the newspapers doubly
narcotic: every eatable and drinkable, all that can be seen, felt,
heard or understood, is saturated with tobacco;--the very air we
breathe is but a conveyance for this poison into the lungs; and every
man, woman, and child, rapidly acquires the complexion of a boiled
chicken. From the hour of their waking, if nine-tenths of their
population can be said to awake at all, to the hour of their lying
down, the pipe is never out of their mouths. One mighty fumigation
reigns, and human nature is smoked dry by tens of thousands of square
miles. The German physiologists compute, that of 20 deaths, between
eighteen and thirty-five years, 10 originate in the waste of the
constitution by smoking.'
This is indeed a horrid picture; but when it is considered that the
best estimates which can be made concur in showing that tobacco, to the
amount of $16,000,000, is consumed in the United States annually, and
that by far the greater part of this is in smoking cigars, there is
certainly room for gloomy apprehensions. What though we do not use the
dirty pipe of the Dutch and Germans? If we only use the _tobacco_, the
mischief is effectually accomplished. Perhaps it were even better that
we should lay out a part of our money for pipes, than to spend the
whole for tobacco.
Smoking is indecent, filthy, and rude, and to many individuals highly
offensive. When first introduced into Europe, in the 16th century, its
use was prohibited under very severe penalties, which in some countries
amounted even to cutting off the nose. And how much better is the
practice of voluntarily burning up our noses, by making a chimney of
them? I am happy, however, in being able to state, that this
unpardonable practice is now abandoned in many of the fashionable
societies in Europe.
There is one remarkable fact to be observed in speaking on this
subject. No parent ever teaches his child the use of tobacco, or even
encourages it, except by his example. Thus the smoker virtually
condemns himself in the very 'thing which he alloweth.' It is not
precisely so in the case of spirits; for many parents directly
encourage the use of that.
Tobacco is one of the most powerful poisons in nature. Even the
physician, some of whose medicines are so active that a few grains, or
a few drops, will destroy life at once, finds tobacco too powerful for
his use; and in those cases where it is most clearly required, only
makes it a last resort. Its daily use, in any form, deranges, and
sometimes destroys the stomach and nerves, produces weakness, low
spirits, dyspepsy, vertigo, and many other complaints. These are its
more immediate effects.
Its remoter effects are scarcely less dreadful. It dries the mouth and
nostrils, and probably the brain; benumbs the senses of smell and
taste, impairs the hearing, and ultimately the eye-sight. Germany, a
_smoking_ nation, is at the same time, a _spectacled_ nation. More than
all this; it dries the blood; creates thirst and loss of appetite; and
in this and other ways, often lays the foundation of intemperance. In
fact, not a few persons are made drunkards by this very means. Dr. Rush
has a long chapter on this subject in one of his volumes, which is well
worth your attention. In addition to all this, it has often been
observed that in fevers and other diseases, medicines never operate
well in constitutions which have been accustomed to the use of tobacco.
Of the expense which the use of it involves, I have already spoken. Of
the $16,000,000 thus expended, $9,000,000 are supposed to be for
smoking Spanish cigars; $6,500,000 for smoking American tobacco, and
for chewing it; and $500,000 for snuff.
Although many people of real intelligence become addicted to this
practice, as is the case especially among the learned in Germany, yet
it cannot be denied that in general, those individuals and _nations_
whose mental powers are the weakest, are (in proportion to their means
of acquiring it) most enslaved to it. To be convinced of the truth of
this remark, we have only to open our eyes to facts as they exist
around us.
All ignorant and savage _nations_ indulge in extraordinary stimulants,
(and tobacco among the rest,) whenever they have the means of obtaining
them; and in proportion to their degradation. Thus it is with the
native tribes of North America; thus with the natives of Africa, Asia,
and New Holland; thus with the Cretins and Gypsies. Zimmerman says,
that the latter 'suspended their predatory excursions, and on an
appointed evening in every week, assemble to enjoy their guilty spoils
in the fumes of _strong waters_ and _tobacco_.' Here they are
represented as indulging in idle tales about the character and conduct
of those around them; a statement which can very easily be believed by
those who have watched the effects produced by the fumes of stimulating
beverages much more '_respectable_' than spirits or tobacco smoke.
The quantity which is used in civilized nations is almost incredibly
great. England alone imported, in 1829, 22,400,000 lbs. of
unmanufactured tobacco. There is no narcotic plant--not even the tea
plant--in such extensive use, unless it is the _betel_ of India and the
adjoining countries. _This_ is the leaf of a climbing plant resembling
ivy, but of the pepper tribe. The people of the east chew it so
incessantly, and in such quantities, that their lips become quite red,
and their teeth black--showing that it has affected their whole
systems. They carry it about them in boxes, and offer it to each other
in compliment, as the Europeans do snuff; and it is considered uncivil
and unkind to refuse to accept and chew it. This is done by the women
as well as by the men. Were we disposed, we might draw from this fact
many important lessons on our own favored stimulants.
In view of the great and growing evil of smoking, the practical
question arises; 'What shall be done?' The answer is--Render it
unfashionable and disreputable. Do you ask, '_How_ is this to be
accomplished?' Why, how has alcohol been rendered unpopular? Do you
still say, 'One person alone cannot effect much?' But so might any
person have said a few years ago, in regard to spirits. Individuals
must commence the work of reformation in the one case, as well as in
the other; and success will then be equally certain.
2. CHEWING.
Many of the remarks already made apply with as much force to the use of
tobacco in every form, as to the mere habit of smoking. But I have a
few additional thoughts on chewing this plant.
There are never wanting excuses for any thing which we feel strongly
inclined to do. Thus a thousand little frivolous pleas are used for
chewing tobacco. One man of reputed good sense told me that his tobacco
probably cost him nothing, for if he did not use it, he 'should be apt
to spend as much worth of time in _picking and eating summer fruits_,
as would pay for it.' Now I do not like the practice of eating even
summer fruits between meals; but they are made to be eaten moderately,
no doubt; and if people will not eat them _with_ their food, it is
generally a less evil to eat them between meals, than not at all. But
the truth is, tobacco chewers never relish these things at any time.
The only plea for chewing this noxious plant, which is entitled to a
serious consideration is, that it tends to preserve the teeth. This is
the strong hold of tobacco chewers--not, generally, when they commence
the practice, but as soon as they find themselves slaves to it.
Now the truth appears to be this:
1. 'When a tooth is decayed in such a manner as to leave the nerve
exposed, there is no doubt that the powerful stimulus of tobacco must
greatly diminish its sensibility. But there are very many other
substances, less poisonous, whose occasional application would
accomplish the same result, and without deadening, at the same time,
the sensibilities of the whole system, as tobacco does.
2. The person who chews tobacco, generally puts a piece in his mouth
immediately after eating. This is immediately moved from place to
place, and not only performs, in some measure, the offices of a brush
and toothpick, but produces a sudden flow of saliva; and in consequence
of both of these causes combined, the teeth are effectually cleansed;
and cleanliness is undoubtedly one of the most effectual preventives of
decay in teeth yet known. Yet there are far better means of cleansing
the mouth and teeth after eating than by means of tobacco.
If there be any other known reasons why tobacco should preserve teeth,
I am ignorant of them. There are then no arguments of any weight for
using it; while there are a multitude of very strong reasons against
it. I might add them, in this place, but it appears to me unnecessary.
3. TAKING SNUFF.
I have seen many individuals who would not, on any account whatever,
use spirits, or chew tobacco; but who would not hesitate to dry up
their nasal membranes, injure their speech, induce catarrhal
affections, and besmear their face, clothes, books, &c. with _snuff_.
This, however common, appears to me ridiculous. Almost all the serious
evils which result from smoking and chewing, follow the practice of
snuffing powdered tobacco into the nose. Even Chesterfield opposes it,
when after characterizing all use of tobacco or snuff, in any form, as
both vulgar and filthy, he adds: 'Besides, snuff-takers are generally
very dull and shallow people, and have recourse to it merely as a
fillip to the brain; by all means, therefore, avoid the filthy custom.'
This censure, though rather severe, is equally applicable to smoking
and chewing.
Naturalists say there is one species of maggot fly that mistakes the
odor of some kinds of snuff for that of putrid substances, and deposits
its eggs in it. In warm weather therefore, it must be dangerous to take
snuff which has been exposed to these insects; for the eggs sometimes
hatch in two hours, and the most tremendous consequences might follow.
And it is not impossible that some of the most painful diseases to
which the human race are liable, may have been occasionally produced by
this or a similar cause. The 'tic douloureux' is an example.
A very common disease in sheep is known to be produced by worms in
cavities which communicate with the nose. Only a little acquaintance
with the human structure would show that there are a number of cavities
in the bones of the face and head, some of which will hold half an
ounce each, which communicate with the nose, and into which substances
received into this organ occasionally fall, but cannot escape as easily
as they enter.
SECTION V. _Useful Recreations._
The young, I shall be told, must and will have their recreations; and
if they are to be denied every species of gaming, what shall they do?
'You would not, surely, have them spend their leisure hours in
gratifying the senses; in eating, drinking, and licentiousness.'
By no means. Recreations they must have; active recreation, too, in the
open air. Some of the most appropriate are playing ball, quoits,
ninepins, and other athletic exercises; but in no case for money, or
any similar consideration. _Skating_ is a good exercise in its proper
season, if followed with great caution. _Dancing_, for those who sit
much, such as pupils in school, tailors and shoemakers, would be an
appropriate exercise, if it were not perpetually abused. By assembling
in large crowds, continuing it late at evening, and then sallying out
in a perspiration, into the cold or damp night air, a thousand times
more mischief has been done, than all the benefit which it has afforded
would balance. It were greatly to be wished that this exercise might be
regulated by those rules which human experience has indicated, instead
of being subject to the whim and caprice of fashion. It is a great pity
an exercise so valuable to the sedentary, and especially those who
_sit_ much, of both sexes, should be so managed as to injure half the
world, and excite against it the prejudices of the other half.
I have said that the young must have recreations, and generally in the
open air. The reason why they should usually be conducted in the open
air, is, that their ordinary occupations too frequently confine them
within doors, and of course in an atmosphere more or less vitiated.
Farmers, gardeners, rope makers, and persons whose occupations are of
an active nature, do not need out-of-door sports at all. Their
recreations should be by the fire side. Not with cards or dice, nor in
the company of those whose company is not worth having. But the book,
the newspaper, conversation, or the lyceum, will be the appropriate
recreations for these classes, and will be found in the highest degree
satisfactory. For the evening, the lyceum is particularly adapted,
because laboring young men are often too much fatigued at night, to
think, closely; and the lyceum, or conversation, will be more
agreeable, and not less useful. But the family circle may of itself
constitute a lyceum, and the book or the newspaper may be made the
subject of discussion. I have known the heads of families in one
neighborhood greatly improved, and the whole neighborhood derive an
impulse, from the practice of meeting one evening in the week, to read
the news together, and converse on the more interesting intelligence of
the day.
Some strongly recommend 'the sports of the field,' and talk with
enthusiasm of 'hunting, coursing, fishing;' and of 'dogs and horses.'
But these are no recreations for me. True they are _healthy_ to the
body; but not to the morals. This I say confidently, although some of
my readers may smile, and call it an affectation of sensibility. Yet
with Cowper,
'I would not enter on my list of friends
The man who needlessly sets foot upon a worm.'
If the leading objects of field sports were to procure sustenance, I
would not say a word. But the very term _sports_, implies something
different. And shall we sport with _life_--even that of the inferior
animals? That which we cannot give, shall we presumptuously dare to
take away, and as our only apology say, 'Am I not in sport?'
Besides, other amusements equally healthy, and if we are accustomed to
them, equally pleasant, and much more rational, can be substituted.
What they are, I have mentioned, at least in part. How a sensible man,
and especially a Christian, can hunt or fish, when he would not do it,
were it not for the pleasure he enjoys in the cruelty it
involves;--how, above all, a wise father can recommend it to his
children, or to others, I am utterly unable to conceive!
CHAPTER IV.
Improvement of the Mind.
SECTION I. _Habit of Observation._
'Your eyes open, your thoughts close, will go safe through the world,'
is a maxim which some have laid down; but it savors rather too much of
selfishness. 'You may learn from others all you can, but you are to
give them as little opportunity as possible for learning from you,'
seems to be the language, properly interpreted. Suppose every one took
the advice, and endeavored to keep his thoughts close, for fear he
should either be misunderstood, or thought wanting in wisdom; what
would become of the pleasures of conversation? Yet these make up a very
considerable item of the happiness of human life.
I have sometimes thought with Dr. Rush, that taciturnity, though often
regarded as a mark of wisdom, is rather the effect of a 'want of
ideas.' The doctor mentions the taciturnity of the American Indians as
a case in point. Even in civilized company, he believes that with one
or two exceptions, an indisposition to join in conversation 'in nine
cases out of ten, is a mark of stupidity,' and presently adds; 'Ideas,
whether acquired from books or by reflection, produce a _plethora_ in
the mind, which can only be relieved by depletion from the pen or
tongue.'
'Keep your eyes open,' however, is judicious advice. How many who have
the eyes of their body open, keep the eyes of the soul perpetually shut
up. 'Seeing, they see not.' Such persons, on arriving at the age of
three or four score, _may_ lay claim to superior wisdom on account of
superior age, but their claims ought not to be admitted. A person who
has the eyes both of his mind and body open, will derive more wisdom
from one year's experience, than those who neglect to observe for
themselves, from ten. Thus at thirty, with ten years acquaintance with
men, manners and things, a person _may_ be wiser than another at three
times thirty, with seven times ten years of what he calls experience.
Sound practical wisdom, cannot, it is true, be rapidly acquired any
where but in the school of experience, but the world abounds with men
who are old enough to be wise, and yet are very ignorant. Let it be
your fixed resolution not to belong to this class.
But in order to have the mental eyes open, the external eyes should be
active. We should, as a general rule, see what is going on around us.
There are indeed seasons, occurring in the school or the closet, when
abstraction is desirable; but speaking generally, we should 'keep our
eyes open.'
It is hence easy to see why some men who are accounted learned, are yet
in common life very great fools. Is it not because their eyes have been
shut to every thing but books, and schools, and colleges, and
universities?
The late Dr. Dwight was an eminent instance of keeping up an
acquaintance both with books, and the world in which he lived and
acted. In his walks, or wherever he happened to be, nothing could
escape his eye. 'Not a bird could fly up,' says one of his students,
'but he observed it.' And he endeavored to establish the same habit of
observation in others. Riding in a chaise, one day, with a student of
his, who was apt to be abstracted from surrounding things, he suddenly
exclaimed, almost indignant at his indifference, 'S---- keep your eyes
open!' The lesson was not lost. It made a deep impression on the mind
of the student. Though by no means distinguished in his class, he has
outstripped many, if not the most of them, in actual and practical
usefulness; and to this hour, he attributes much of his success to the
foregoing circumstance.
There is a pedantry in these things, however, which is not only
fulsome, but tends to defeat our very purpose. It is not quite
sufficient that we merely bestow a passing glance on objects, they must
strike deep. If they do not, they had better not have been seen at all;
since the habit of 'seeing not,' while we appear to 'see,' has been all
the while strengthening.
It cannot be denied that a person who shall take the advice I have
given, may, with a portion of his fellow men, gain less credit than if
he adopted a different course. There is a certain surgeon, in one of
the New England States, who has acquired much popularity by reading as
he travels along. Seldom or never, say his admirers, is he seen in his
carriage without a book in his hand, or at his side. But such
popularity is usually of a mushroom character. There may be pressing
occasions which render it the _duty_ of a surgeon to consult his books,
while in his carriage; but these occasions can never be of frequent
occurrence. It is far better that he should be reading lessons from the
great and open volume of nature.
Nor does it add, in any degree, to the just respect due to the wisdom
of either of the Plinys, that the elder 'never travelled without a book
and a portable writing desk by his side,' and that the younger read
upon all occasions, whether riding, walking, or sitting.' I cannot
doubt that, wise as they were in books and philosophy, they would have
secured a much greater fund of practical wisdom, had they left their
books and writing desks at home, and 'kept their eyes open' to
surrounding objects.
There is another thing mentioned of Pliny the elder, which is equally
objectionable. It is said that a person read to him during his meals. I
have given my views on this point in Chapter I.
SECTION II. _Rules for Conversation._
The bee has the art of extracting honey from every flower which
contains it, even from some which are not a little nauseous or
poisonous. It has also been said that the conversation of every
individual, whatever may be the condition of his mind or circumstances,
may be made a means of improvement. How happy would it be, then, if man
possessed the skill of the bee, and knew how to extract the good, and
reject the bad or useless!
Something on this subject is, indeed, known. There are rules, by the
observance of which we may derive much valuable information from the
conversation of those among whom we live, even though it should relate
to the most ordinary subjects and concerns. And not only so, we may
often devise means to _change_ the conversation, either directly, by
gradually introducing other topics of discourse, or indirectly, by
patient attempts to enlarge and improve and elevate the minds of our
associates.
Every individual has excellences; and almost every person, however
ignorant, has thought upon some one subject more than many,--perhaps
_most_--others. Some excel in the knowledge of husbandry, some in
gardening, some in mechanics, or manufactures, some in mathematics, and
so on. In all your conversation, then, it will be well to ascertain as
nearly as you can wherein the skill and excellence of an individual
lies, and put him upon his favorite subject. Nor is this difficult.
Every one _will_, of his own accord, fall to talking on his favorite
topic, if you will follow, and not attempt to _lead_ him.
Except in a few rare cases, every one wishes to be the hero of the
circle where he is conversing. If, therefore, you seek to improve in
the greatest possible degree, from the conversation of those among whom
you may be thrown, you will suffer a companion to take his own course,
and 'out of the abundance of his heart,' let his 'mouth speak.' By this
means you may easily collect the worth and excellence of every one you
meet with; and be able to put it together for your own use upon future
occasions.
The common objections to the views here presented, are, that they
encourage dissimulation. But this does not appear to me to be the fact.
In suffering a person, for the space of a single conversation, to be
the hero of the circle, we do not of necessity concede his superiority
generally; we only help him to be useful to the company. It often
happens that you are thrown among persons whom you cannot benefit by
becoming the hero of the circle yourself, for they will not listen to
you; and perhaps will not understand your terms, if they do. If,
however, there appear to be others in the company whose object, like
your own, is improvement, you might expose yourself to the just charge
of being selfish, should you refuse to converse upon your own favorite
topics in your turn; and thus to let the good deed go round.
Never interrupt another, but hear him out. You will understand him the
better for it, and be able to give him the better answer. If you only
give him an opportunity, he may say something which you have not yet
heard, or explain what you did not fully understand, or even mention
something which you did not expect.
There are individuals with whom you may occasionally come in contact,
from whose conversation you will hardly derive much benefit at all.
Such are those who use wanton, or obscene, or profane language. For,
besides the almost utter hopelessness of deriving any benefit from such
persons, and the pain you must inevitably suffer in hearing them, you
put your own reputation at hazard. 'A man is known by the company he
keeps;' take care therefore how you frequent the company of the swearer
or the sensualist. Avoid, too, the known liar, for similar reasons.
If you speak in company, it is not only modest but wise to speak late;
for by this means, you will be able to render your conversation more
acceptable, and to weigh beforehand the importance of what you utter;
and you will be less likely to violate the good old rule, 'think twice
before you speak once.' Let your words be as few as will express the
sense which you wish to convey, especially when strangers or men of
much greater experience than yourself are present; and above all, be
careful that what you say be strictly _true_.
Do not suffer your feelings to betray you into too great earnestness,
or vehemence; and never be overbearing. Avoid triumphing over an
antagonist, even though you might reasonably do so. You gain nothing.
On the contrary, you often confirm him in his erroneous opinions. At
least, you prejudice him against yourself. Zimmerman insists that we
should suffer an antagonist to get the victory over us occasionally, in
order to raise his respect for himself. All _finesse_ of this kind,
however, as Christians, I think it better to avoid.
SECTION III. _On Books, and Study._
It may excite some surprise that books, and study, do not occupy a more
conspicuous place in this work. There are several reasons for this
circumstance. The first is, a wish to counteract the prevailing
tendency to make too much of books as a means of forming character. The
second is, because the choice of these depends more upon parents and
teachers than upon the individual himself; and if _they_ have neglected
to lay the foundation of a desire for mental improvement, there is less
probability that any advice I may give on this subject will be
serviceable, than on most others.
And yet, no young man, at any age, ought to despair of establishing
such habits of body and mind as he believes would contribute to his
usefulness. He hates the sight of a book perhaps; but what then? This
prejudice may, in a measure, be removed. Not at once, it is true, but
gradually. Not by compelling himself to read or study against his
inclination; for little will be accomplished when it goes 'against the
grain.' But there are means better and more effective than these; some
of which I will now proceed to point out.
Let him attach himself to some respectable lyceum or debating society.
Most young men are willing to attend a lyceum, occasionally; and thanks
to the spirit of the times and those who have zealously labored to
produce the present state of things, these institutions every where
abound. Let him now and then take part in a discussion, if it be, at
first, only to say a few words. The moment he can awaken an interest in
almost any subject whatever, that moment he will, of necessity, seek
for information in regard to it. He will seek it, not only in
conversation, but in newspapers. These, if well selected, will in their
turn refer him to books of travels. Gradually he will find histories,
if not written in too dry a manner, sources of delight. Thus he will
proceed, step by step, till he finds himself quite attached to reading
of various descriptions.
There is one caution to be observed here, which is, not to read too
long or too much at once. Whenever a book, or even a newspaper, begins
to be irksome, let it be laid aside for the time. In this way you will
return to it, at the next leisure moment, with increased pleasure.
A course not unlike that which I have been describing, faithfully and
perseveringly followed, would in nine cases in ten, be successful.
Indeed, I never yet knew of a single failure. One great point is, to be
thoroughly convinced of its importance. No young man can reasonably
expect success, unless he enters upon his work with his whole heart,
and pursues it with untiring assiduity.
Of the _necessity_ of improvement, very few young men seem to have
doubts. But there is a difficulty which many feel, which it will
require no little effort to remove, because it is one of long standing,
and wrought into all the arrangements of civilized society. I allude to
the prevailing impression that very little can be done to improve the
mind beyond a certain age, and the limit is often fixed at eighteen or
twenty years. We hear it, indeed, asserted, that nothing can be done
after thirty; but the general belief is that most men cannot do much
after twenty: or at least that it will cost much harder effort and
study.
Now, I would be the last to encourage any young person in wasting, or
even undervaluing his early years; for youth is a golden period, and
every moment well spent will be to the future what good seed, well
planted in its season, is to the husbandman.
The truth is, that what we commonly call a course of education, is only
a course which prepares a young man to educate himself. It is giving
him the keys of knowledge. But who will sit down contentedly and cease
to make effort, the moment he obtains the keys to the most valuable of
treasures? It is strange, indeed, that we should so long have talked of
finishing an education, when we have only just prepared ourselves to
begin it.
If any young man at twenty, twenty-five, or thirty, finds himself
ignorant, whether the fault is his own or that of others, let him not
for one single moment regard his age as presenting a serious obstacle
to improvement. Should these remarks meet the eye of any such
individual, let me prevail with him, when I urge him to make an effort.
Not a momentary effort, either; let him _take time_ for his experiment.
Even Rome was not built in a day; and he who thinks to build up a well
regulated and highly enlightened mind in a few weeks, or even months,
has yet to learn the depths of his own ignorance.
It would be easy to cite a long list of men who commenced study late in
life, and yet finally became eminent; and this, too, with no
instructors but themselves and their books. Some have met with signal
success, who commenced after forty years of age. Indeed, no reason can
be shown, why the mind may not improve as long, at least, as the body.
But all experience goes to prove that with those whose habits are
judicious, the physical frame does not attain perfection, in every
respect, till thirty-five or forty.
It is indeed said that knowledge, if it could be acquired thus late in
life, would be easily forgotten. This is true, if it be that kind of
knowledge for which we have no immediate use. But if it be of a
practical character, it will not fail to be remembered. Franklin was
always learning, till death. And what he learned he seldom forgot,
because he had an immediate use for it. I have said, it is a great
point to be convinced of the importance of knowledge. I might add that
it is a point of still greater consequence to feel our own ignorance.
'To know ourselves diseased, (morally) is half our cure.' To know our
own ignorance is the first step to knowledge; and other things being
alike, our progress in knowledge will generally be in proportion to our
sense of the want of it.
The strongest plea which indolence is apt to put in, is, that we have
no _time_ for study. Many a young man has had some sense of his own
ignorance, and a corresponding thirst for knowledge, but alas! the idea
was entertained that he had no time to read--no time to study--no time
to think. And resting on this plea as satisfactory, he has gone down to
the grave the victim not only of indolence and ignorance, but perhaps
of vice;--vice, too, which he might have escaped with a little more
general intelligence.
No greater mistake exists than that which so often haunts the human
mind, that we cannot find _time_ for things; things, too, which we have
previously decided for ourselves that we ought to do. Alfred, king of
England, though he performed more business than almost any of his
subjects, found time for study. Franklin, in the midst of all his
labors, found time to dive into the depths of philosophy, and explore
an untrodden path of science. Frederick the Great, with an empire at
his direction, in the midst of war, and on the eve of battles, found
time to revel in all the charms of philosophy, and to feast himself on
the rich viands of intellect. Bonaparte, with Europe at his disposal,
with kings at his ante-chamber begging for vacant thrones, and at the
head of thousands of men whose destinies were suspended on his
arbitrary pleasure, had time to converse with books. Caesar, when he had
curbed the spirits of the Roman people, and was thronged with visitors
from the remotest kingdoms, found time for intellectual cultivation.
The late Dr. Rush, and the still later Dr. Dwight, are eminent
instances of what may be done for the cultivation of the mind, in the
midst of the greatest pressure of other occupation.
On this point, it may be useful to mention the results of my own
observation. At no period of my life am I conscious of having made
greater progress than I have sometimes done while laboring in the
summer; and almost incessantly too. It is true, I read but little; yet
that little was well understood and thoroughly digested. Almost all the
knowledge I possess of ancient history was obtained in this way, in one
year. Of course, a particular knowledge could not be expected, under
such circumstances; but the general impressions and leading facts which
were imbibed, will be of very great value to me, as I trust, through
life. And I am acquainted with one or two similar instances.
It is true that mechanics and manufacturers, as well as men of most
other occupations, find fewer leisure hours than most farmers. The
latter class of people are certainly more favorably situated than any
other. But it is also true that even the former, almost without
exception, can command a small portion of their time every day, for the
purposes of mental improvement, if they are determined on it. Few
individuals can be found in the community, who have not as much leisure
as I had during the summer I have mentioned. The great point is to have
the necessary disposition to improve it; and a second point, of no
small importance, is to have at hand, proper means of instruction. Of
the latter I shall speak presently.
The reason why laboring men make such rapid progress in knowledge, in
proportion to the number of hours they devote to study, appears to me
obvious. The mental appetite is keen, and they devour with a relish.
What little they read and understand, is thought over, and perhaps
conversed upon, during the long interval; and becomes truly the
property of the reader. Whereas those who make study a business, never
possess a healthy appetite for knowledge; they are always cloyed,
nothing is well digested; and the result of their continued effort is
either a superficial or a distorted view of a great many things,
without a thorough or practical understanding of any.
I do not propose, in a work of this kind, to recommend to young men
what particular books on any subject they ought to study. First,
because it is a matter of less importance than many others, and I
cannot find room to treat of every thing.
He who has the determination to make progress, will do so, either with
or without books, though these are certainly useful. But an old piece
of newspaper, or a straggling leaf from some book, or an inscription on
a monument, or the monument itself--and works of nature as well as of
art, will be books to him. Secondly, because there is such an extensive
range for selection. But, thirdly, because it may often be left to the
reader's own taste and discretion. He will probably soon discover
whether he is deriving solid or permanent benefit from his studies, and
govern himself accordingly. Or if he have a friend at hand, who will be
likely to make a judicious selection, with a proper reference to his
actual progress and wants, he would do wrong not to avail himself of
that friend's opinion.
I will now mention a _few_ of the particular studies to which he who
would educate himself for usefulness should direct his attention.
1. GEOGRAPHY.
As it is presumed that every one whom I address reads newspapers more
or less, I must be permitted to recommend that you read them with good
maps of every quarter of the world before you, and a geography and
correct gazetteer at hand. When a place is mentioned, observe its
situation on the map, read an account of it in the gazetteer, and a
more particular description in the geography. Or if you choose to go
through with the article, and get some general notions of the subject,
and afterwards go back and read it a second time, in the manner
proposed, to this I have no objection.
Let me insist, strongly, on the importance of this method of reading.
It may seem slow at first; but believe me, you will be richly repaid in
the end. Even in the lyceum, where the subject seems to demand it, and
the nature of the case will admit, it ought to be required of lecturers
and disputants, to explain every thing in passing, either by reference
to books themselves on the spot, or by maps, apparatus, diagrams, &c;
with which, it is plain, that every lyceum ought to be furnished. The
more intelligent would lose nothing, while the less so, would gain
much, by this practice. The expense of these things, at the present
time, is so trifling, that no person, or association of persons, whose
object is scientific improvement, should, by any means, dispense with
them.
No science expands the mind of a young man more, at the same time that
it secures his cheerful attention, than geography--I mean if pursued in
the foregoing manner. Its use is so obvious that the most stupid cannot
fail to see it. Much is said, I know, of differences of taste on this,
as well as every other subject; but I can hardly believe that any young
person can be entirely without taste for geographical knowledge. It is
next to actual travels; and who does not delight in seeing new places
and new objects?
2. HISTORY.
Next in order as regards both interest and importance, will be a
knowledge of history, with some attention at the same time to
chronology. Here, too, the starting point will be the same as in the
former case. Some circumstance or event mentioned at the lyceum, or in
the newspaper, will excite curiosity, and lead the way to inquiry. I
think it well, however, to have but one leading science in view at a
time; that is, if geography be the object, let history and almost every
thing else be laid aside for that time, in order to secure, and hold
fast the geographical information which is needed. After a few weeks or
months, should he wish to pursue history, let the student, for some
time confine himself chiefly, perhaps exclusively, to that branch.
The _natural_ order of commencing and pursuing this branch without an
instructor, and I think in schools also, is the following. For example,
you take up a book, or it may be a newspaper, since these are swarming
every where at the present time, and read that a person has just
deceased, who was at _Yorktown_, in Virginia, during the whole _siege_,
in the American _revolution_. I am supposing here that you have already
learned where Yorktown is; for geography, to some extent at least,
should precede history; but if not, I would let it pass for the moment,
since we cannot do every thing at once, and proceed to inquire about
the siege, and revolution. If you have any books whatever, on history,
within your reach, do not give up the pursuit till you have attained a
measure of success. Find out, _when_ the _siege_ in question
_happened_, by _whom_, and by _how many thousand troops_ it was carried
on; and _who_ and _how many_ the besieged were.
He who follows out this plan, will soon find his mind reaching beyond
the mere events alluded to in the newspaper, both forward and backward.
As in the example already mentioned, for I cannot think of a
better;--What were the consequences of this siege?--Did it help to
bring about peace, and how soon?--And did the two nations ever engage
in war afterward?--If so, how soon, and with what results? What became
of the French troops and of the good La Fayette? This would lead to the
study of French history for the last forty years. On the other hand,
Where had Washington and La Fayette and Cornwallis been employed,
previous to the siege of Yorktown? What battles had they fought, and
with what success? What led to the quarrel between Great Britain and
the United States? &c. Thus we should naturally go backward, step by
step, until we should get much of modern history clustered round this
single event of the siege of Yorktown. The same course should be
pursued in the case of any other event, either ancient or modern. If
newspapers are not thus read, they dissipate the mind, and probably do
about as much harm as good.
It is deemed disgraceful--and ought to be--for any young man at this
day to be ignorant of the geography and history of the country in which
he lives. And yet it is no uncommon occurrence. However it argues much
against the excellence of our systems of education, that almost every
child should be carried apparently through a wide range of science, and
over the whole material universe, and yet know nothing, or next to
nothing, practically, of his own country.
3. ARITHMETIC.
No young man is excusable who is destitute of a knowledge of
Arithmetic. It is probable, however, that no individual will read this
book, who has not some knowledge of the fundamental branches;
numeration, addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division. But
with these, every person has the key to a thorough acquaintance with
the whole subject, so far as his situation in life requires. To avail
himself of these keys to mathematical knowledge, he must pursue a
course not unlike that which I have recommended in relation to
geography and history. He must seize on every circumstance which occurs
in his reading, where reckoning is required, and if possible, stop at
once and compute it. Or if not, let the place be marked, and at the
first leisure moment, let him turn to it, and make the estimates.
Suppose he reads of a shipwreck. The crew is said to consist of thirty
men besides the captain and mate, with three hundred and thirteen
passengers, and a company of sixty grenadiers. The captain and mate,
and ten of the crew escaped in the long boat. The rest were drowned,
except twelve of the grenadiers, who clung to a floating fragment of
the wreck till they were taken off by another vessel. Now is there a
single person in existence, who would read such an account, without
being anxious to know how many persons in the whole were lost? Yet nine
readers in ten would _not_ know; and why? Simply because they will not
stop to use what little addition and subtraction they possess.
I do not say that, in reading to a company, who did not expect it, a
young man would be required to stop and make the computation; but I do
say that in all ordinary cases, no person is excusable who omits it,
for it is a flagrant wrong to his own mind. Long practice, it is true,
will render it unnecessary for an individual to _pause_, in order to
estimate a sum like that abovementioned. Many, indeed most persons who
are familiar with figures, might compute these numbers while reading,
and without the slightest pause; but it certainly requires some
practice. And the most important use of arithmetical studies (except as
a discipline to the mind) is to enable us to reckon without slates and
pencils. He has but a miserable knowledge of arithmetic, who is no
arithmetician without a pen or pencil in his hand. These are but the
ladders upon which he should ascend to the science, and not the science
itself.
4. CHEMISTRY AND OTHER NATURAL SCIENCES.
If I were to name one branch, as more important to a young man than any
other,--next to the merest elements of reading and writing--it would be
chemistry. Not a mere smattering of it, however; for this usually does
about as much harm as good. But a thorough knowledge of a few of the
simple elements of bodies, and some of their most interesting
combinations, such as are witnessed every day of our lives, but which,
for want of a little knowledge of chemistry, are never understood,
would do more to interest a young man in the business in which he may
be employed, than almost any thing I could name. For there is hardly a
single trade or occupation whatever, that does not embrace a greater or
less number of chemical processes. Chemistry is of very high importance
even to the gardener and the farmer.
There are several other branches which come under the general head of
NATURAL SCIENCE, which I recommend to your attention. Such are BOTANY,
or a knowledge of plants; NATURAL HISTORY, or a knowledge of animals;
and GEOLOGY, or a general knowledge of the rocks and stones of which
the earth on which we live is composed. I do not think these are
equally important with the knowledge of chemistry, but they are highly
interesting, and by no means without their value.
5. GRAMMAR AND COMPOSITION.
The foundation of a knowledge of Grammar is, in my view, Composition;
and composition, whether learned early or late, is best acquired by
_letter writing_. This habit, early commenced, and judiciously but
perseveringly followed, will in time, ensure the art not only of
composing well, but also grammatically. I know this position is
sometimes doubted, but the testimony is so strong, that the point seems
to me fully established.
It is related in Ramsay's Life of Washington, that many individuals,
who, before the war of the American Revolution, could scarcely write
their names, became, in the progress of that war, able to compose
letters which were not only intelligible and correct, but which would
have done credit to a profound grammarian. The reason of this
undoubtedly was, that they were thrown into situations where they were
obliged to write much and often, and in such a manner as to be clearly
understood. Perhaps the misinterpretation of a single doubtful word or
sentence might have been the ruin of an army, or even of the _cause_.
Thus they had a motive to write accurately; and long practice, with a
powerful motive before them, rendered them successful.
Nor is it necessary that motives so powerful should always exist, in
order to produce this result;--it is sufficient that there be a motive
to _write well_, and to _persevere_ in writing well. I have known
several pedlars and traders, whose business led to the same
consequences.
6. LETTER WRITING.
But what I have seen most successful, is, the practice of common
_letter writing_, from friend to friend, on any topic which happened to
occur, either ordinary, or extraordinary; with the mutual understanding
and desire that each should criticise freely on the other's
composition. I have known more than one individual, who became a good
writer from this practice, with little aid from grammatical rules; and
without any direct instruction at all.
These remarks are not made to lessen the value which any young man may
have put upon the studies of grammar and composition, as pursued in our
schools; but rather to show that a course at school is not absolutely
indispensable; and to encourage those who are never likely to enjoy the
latter means, to make use of means not yet out of their reach, and
which have often been successful. But lest there should be an apparent
contradiction in some of my remarks, it will be necessary to say that I
think the practice of familiar letter writing from our earliest years,
even at school, should, in every instance, have a much more prominent
place than is usually assigned it; and the study of books on Grammar
and Composition one much _less_ prominent.
7. VOYAGES, TRAVELS, AND BIOGRAPHY.
For mere READING, well selected _Voyages_ and _Travels_ are among the
best works for young men; particularly for those who find little taste
for reading, and wish to enkindle it; and whose geographical knowledge
is deficient.
Well written BIOGRAPHY is next in importance, and usually so in
interest; and so improving to the character is this species of
composition, that it really ought to be regarded as a separate branch
of education, as much as history or geography; and treated accordingly.
In the selection of both these species of writing the aid of an
intelligent, experienced and judicious friend would be of very great
service; and happy is he who has such a treasure at hand.
8. NOVELS.
As to NOVELS it is difficult to say what advice ought to be given. At
first view they seem unnecessary, wholly so; and from this single
consideration. They interest and improve just in proportion as the
fiction they contain is made to resemble reality; and hence it might be
inferred, and naturally enough, too, that reality would in all cases be
preferable to that which imitates it. But to this it may be replied,
that we have few books of narrative and biography, which are written
with so much spirit as some works of fiction; and that until those
departments are better filled, fiction, properly selected, should be
admissible. But if fiction be allowable at all, it is only under the
guidance of age and experience;--and here there is even a more pressing
need of a friend than in the cases already mentioned.
On the whole, it is believed to be better for young men who have little
leisure for reading, and who wish to make the most they can of that
little, to abandon novels wholly. If they begin to read them, it is
difficult to tell to what an excess they may go; but if they never read
one in their whole lives, they will sustain no great loss. Would not
the careful study of a single chapter of Watts's Improvement of the
Mind, be of more real practical value than the perusal of all that the
best novel writers,--Walter Scott not excepted,--have ever written?
9. OF NEWSPAPERS.
Among other means both of mental and moral improvement at the present
day, are periodical publications. The multiplicity and cheapness of
these sources of knowledge renders them accessible to all classes of
the community. And though their influence were to be as evil as the
frogs of Egypt we could not escape it.
Doubtless they produce much evil, though their tendency on the whole is
believed to be salutary. But wisdom is necessary, in order to derive
the greatest amount of benefit from them; and here, perhaps, more than
any where else, do the young need the counsels of experience. I am not
about to direct what particular newspapers and magazines they ought to
read; this is a point which their friends and relatives must assist
them in determining. My purpose is simply to point to a few principles
which should guide both the young and those who advise them, in making
the selection.
1. In the first place, do not seek for your guide a paper which is just
commencing its existence, unless you have reason to think the character
of its conductors is such as you approve.
2. Avoid, unless your particular occupation requires it, a _business_
paper. Otherwise your head will become so full of 'arrivals' and
'departures,' and 'prices current,' and 'news,' that you will hardly
find room for any thing else.
3. Do not take a paper which dwells on nothing but the details of human
depravity. It will indeed, for a time, call forth a sensibility to the
woes of mankind; but the final result will probably be a stupidity and
insensibility to human suffering which you would give much to remove.
4. Avoid those papers which, awed by the cry for _short_ and _light_
articles, have rendered their pages mere columns of insulated facts or
useless scraps, or what is still worse, of unnatural and sickening love
stories.
Lastly, do not take a paper which sneers at religion. It is quite
enough that many periodicals do, in effect, take a course which tends
to irreligion, by leaving this great subject wholly out of sight. But
when they openly sneer at and ridicule the most sacred things, leave
them at once. 'Evil communications corrupt' the best 'manners;' and
though the sentiment may not at once be received, I can assure my
youthful readers that there are no publications which have more direct
effect upon their lives, than these unpretending companions; and
perhaps the very reason is because we least suspect them. Against
receiving deep or permanent impressions from the Bible, the sermon, or
the _book_ of any kind, we are on our watch, but who thinks of having
his principles contaminated, or affected much in any way, merely by the
newspaper? Yet I am greatly mistaken, if these very monitors do not
have more influence, after all, in forming the minds, the manners, and
the morals (shall I add, the _religious character_, even?) of the
rising generation, than all the other means which I have mentioned, put
together.
How important, in this view, it becomes, that your newspaper reading
should be well selected. Let me again repeat the request, that in
selecting those papers which sustain an appropriate character, you will
seek the advice of those whom you deem most able and judicious; and so
far as you think them disinterested, and worthy of your confidence,
endeavor to follow it.
_Politics._ As to the study of politics, in the usual sense of the
term, it certainly cannot be advisable. Nothing appears to me more
disgusting than to see young men rushing into the field of political
warfare, and taking sides as fiercely as if they laid claim to
infallibility, where their fathers and grandfathers modestly confess
ignorance.
At the same time, in a government like ours, where the highest offices
are in the gift of the people, and within the reach of every young man
of tolerable capacity, it would be disgraceful not to study the history
and constitution of our own country, and closely to watch all
legislative movements, at least in the councils of the nation. The time
is not far distant, it is hoped, when these will be made every day
subjects in our elementary schools; and when no youth will arrive at
manhood, as thousands, and, I was going to say, millions now do,
without understanding clearly a single article in the Constitution of
the United States, or even in that of the State in which he resides:
nor even how his native state is represented in Congress.
Again, most young men will probably, sooner or later, vote for rulers
in the town, state, and nation to which they belong. Should they vote
at random? Or what is little better, take their opinions upon trust? Or
shall they examine for themselves; and go to the polls with their eyes
open? At a day like the present, nothing appears to me more obvious
than that young men ought to understand what they are doing when they
concern themselves with public men or public measures.
10. KEEPING A JOURNAL.