Other books are to be read with attention, and, if they abound with truth and wisdom, with respect; but the Book of God is to be read with the deepest veneration, as containing the mind and will of our heavenly Sovereign. In fact, every line of it is to be considered as the voice of God speaking to us. Woe to those, whether young or aged, who can handle the Bible with levity, make sport of its contents, or recite its solemn language as matter of jest! The Lord will not hold them guiltless who thus, practically, "take his name in vain." The Mohammedans manifest much more reverence for theirKoran, than many Christians for the Bible. They never allow themselves to touch it without washing their hands. They handle it with the most pointed respect, never holding it lower than their girdles. Every copy of it commonly contains an inscription or label on the cover, in these words—"Let none touch but those who are clean." How very differently do many, young and old, among us, treat the Holy Scriptures! I have often been distressed when I have seen children toss about their Bibles, and even throw them in the dirt, as they would the least valued of their play-things, or rattle over some of the most solemn language of the Bible with as little apparent thought or respect as they would repeat the veriest effusions of nonsense.
The Bible, farther, is to be readdaily, and withdiligence, as containing that daily food from which you are to derive spiritual aliment, and strength continually. It is to be read with fixedattention, seriously directing your mind to its rich and important meaning; withhumility, feeling your need of the instruction and grace which it contains; withprayer, imploring the guidance of the Holy Spirit, that he may open your hearts to receive the engrafted word which is able to save your souls; withapplication—asking continually—"How does this concernme? Does it describemy case? Does it not contain a lesson which demandsmyspecial regard? DoIknow any thing in my own experience of what is here taught?"
In this precious Book you will find every thing adapted to enlarge the mind, to gratify the taste, to elevate the affections, and to purify the heart. If you only sought the richestentertainment, youcould not open a book more fitted to gratify you. It is an inexhaustible mine of instruction as well as of beauty—the deeper you dig, the richer will you find its treasures. Its exquisite simplicity, its pathos, its sublimity, its heavenly wisdom, its purity, are all adapted to turn us away from the vanities of the world; to enlarge our views beyond these regions of disorder and darkness; to strengthen every high and holy motive; and to lead us upward to Him who is the source and the sum of all good. Happy, thrice happy will those children and young people be, who early learn to go to theBiblefor all their sentiments, principles, and rules of action; who learn daily to go to that precious Book to direct them in their pursuits, to comfort them in their sorrows, to guide them in their perplexities, and to animate them in their labours whatever they may be! Such have the best pledge of temporal enjoyment, and of eternal blessedness. When, therefore, those who love you, and would in some measure take the place of your dear departed Mother, daily put this precious Book of God into your hands, and urge you to read and commit to memory a portion of its contents, do not allow yourselves to regard it as a task or a burden. Think from whom it comes—from the God who made you. Think of the great purpose for which it was given—to make you wise and eternally happy. Think of the only means of making it truly profitable to you—studying it with devout attention, laying it up in your hearts, and practising it in your lives. Think of the solemn responsibility which the possession of this Book lays upon you—for to whomsoever much is given, of them shall much be required. And may the great Author of this Book give you grace to "seek for the heavenly wisdom which it contains as silver, and search for it as for hid treasures!"
Dear Children:—"Prayer is the offering up of our desires to God, for things agreeable to his will, in the name of Christ, with confession of our sins, and thankful acknowledgment of his mercies." This is the definition given in a Catechism with which you are familiar, and a more complete and perfect one could scarcely be conceived. It is the offering up of oursincere desires; for unless it besincere, it is but solemn mockery. It is to be addressed toGod alone; for prayer addressed to any created being, is an act of treason to our rightful Sovereign. It is to be "for thingsagreeable to the divine will;" or else it is unauthorized and presumptuous. It is always to be presentedin the name of Christ; for there is no other name under heaven given among men whereby we can draw near to a holy God with acceptance, but the name of Jesus Christ. It must be accompanied withconfession of sin; because the approach of a sinner to God, without an humble sense and acknowledgment of unworthiness, would be contrary to every principle of reason, as well as to the Christian plan of salvation. And, finally, it ought to includea thankful acknowledgment ofdivine mercies; for without a grateful sense of God's goodness, we cannot be in a frame of mind fitted to receive farther favours.
I trust, dear children, I need not dwell long on either thereasonablenessor thedutyof prayer. If we are entirely dependent on God for every temporal and spiritual blessing, then it is surely reasonable that we acknowledge our dependence, and apply to him with humility and earnestness for his aid. If his favour is life, and his blessing the best riches, it is evident that we ought to supplicate them with importunity and perseverance. If we are sinners, unworthy of the divine favour, we ought to humble ourselves at his footstool, and make confession of our sins with penitence and obedience. If he has revealed a plan of mercy and grace to us, of which he invites and commands us to avail ourselves, then every principle of self interest concurs with reason, in urging us to seek with earnestness a participation in that mercy. And if our Maker and Redeemer has, in so many words, commanded us "by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving to make known our requests to God," who can question, for a moment, thereasonablenessof a compliance with that command?
Nor is thedutyof prayer less apparent than itsreasonableness. The command of our Father in heaven is—"Pray without ceasing—pray alwayswith all prayer and supplication, and abound therein with thanksgiving. I will be inquired of by my people to do that for them which they need. Ask and ye shall receive; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For if ye, being evil, know how to give good gifts unto your children, how much more shall your Father in heaven give his Holy Spirit to them that ask him? All things whatsoever ye shall ask in prayer, believing, ye shall receive. The effectual, fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much. When thou prayest, enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret, shall reward thee openly. If any one lack wisdom, let him ask of God, who giveth liberally, and it shall be given him. Is any afflicted? let him pray. Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. The Lord is rich in mercy to all that call upon him. In the day of my trouble I called upon the Lord, and he heard me, and delivered me out of all my distresses."
Such are some of the numerous passages of Scripture which plainlyrequireandencourageprayer. Can any one who reads and believes the Bible, doubt for a moment, that it is equally hisdutyand hisprivilegeto go daily to the throne of grace to supplicate for all the temporal or spiritualgood which he needs? I hope, my dear children, you will not be disposed to say, notwithstanding such express and positive declarations of God's word, in the language of profane objectors of old—"Wherefore should we seek after God? Does he need to be informed of our wants? Can we, by importunity, alter his purposes? Where is, then, the advantage of asking for what we need? What profit shall we have if we pray unto him?" If you should ever be tempted to ask such a question, I would answer—"Much every way." God has connected our asking for blessings with receiving them. He has promised to hear and answer prayer. He has condescended to say, that he will regard with all the tenderness of a parent's heart, the cries of his children. He has said in his word, "Ye have not, because ye ask not." This is enough. But it is not all that is worthy of our attention. Prayer is not intended to inform God, but to benefit ourselves. It tends to remind us of our dependence and unworthiness; to impress our hearts with a deeper sense of the divine goodness and mercy; and to beget in our minds that humble, grateful, tender sense of our own weakness, and of our obligation to the Author of all good, which constitute the best preparation for receiving the gracious gifts of our heavenly Parent.
While your precious, lamented Mother was alive, what a privilege did you consider it to be allowed to go to her in all your troubles, and tomake known to her all your desires! How much greater the privilege to be allowed every hour free access to your Father in heaven, with all your anxieties and distresses, to pour out all your wants and wishes, your hopes and fears into the bosom of an Almighty Friend, who is ever able and ready to help!
Since, then, dear children, there are so many reasons prompting you to prayer; since you are always weak, always dependant, always unworthy, and always in need, can you doubt that it is your duty and your interest to abound in prayer? Let me entreat you, therefore, never to suffer a day to pass without engaging in this delightful and most reasonable exercise. Set apart fixed times for the purpose, that you may form suchhabitsas will aid your memory, and prevent your neglecting it. Retire as soon as you can, after rising in the morning, to return thanks for the mercies of the night, and to implore the protection, the guidance, and the blessing of your heavenly Father, through the day. And in the evening, before drowsiness overtakes you, retire again, to praise him for the mercies of the day, and to ask for his guardianship during the night watches. But are these the only subjects of prayer? Far from it. They are numerous as the moments you live, and various as the objects which you are called to contemplate. Pray in the morning, that God would keep you from all evil in body or soul, through the day; thathe would create in you a clean heart, and renew within you a right spirit; that he would guard your speech and behaviour at all times, and in every situation; that he would enable you to mortify and subdue every sinful affection, and to overcome every improper habit; that he would deliver you from sloth, and pride, and vanity, and malice, and envy, and every evil temper; that he would enable you to treat all around you in a dutiful and becoming manner; in a word, that he would enable you to spend the day in a manner profitable to yourselves, and to the benefit of all around you. And in the evening pray, that he would pardon all the deficiencies and infirmities of the preceding day; that he would make you grateful for all the favours of his merciful Providence; that he would watch over you during the hours of darkness and repose; and bring you to the light of another day in health, in the exercise of your reason, and in the enjoyment of his favour and love.
And while you thus pray daily for yourselves, it is your privilege and duty to include in your petitions all with whom you are connected in the various relations of life. You ought to pray continually for your belovedfather, who is engaged in such important labour for the Church, and who loves you with an affection and solicitude which you can never repay; for yourgrandparents, who are daily praying for you, and who are falling more and more under the infirmities of age; forone another, that you may be guided and blessed amidst all the temptations and dangers of youth; for yourteachers; for yourschool-mates; for thepoor childrenaround you, who have none of the advantages of instruction and restraint which you enjoy; for yourfriends, andneighbours, and all with whom you are acquainted. O, my dear children, if you prayed as you ought every day for all these, how much happier would you be! What a benign influence it would have on your whole temper and conduct! It would make you kind, tender hearted, and forgiving toward all with whom you conversed; and make all of them, in their turn, love you as a friend and benefactor.
Let me make, on this subject, one more suggestion. Most people, especially most young people, have no idea of engaging in prayer unless at particular times when they retire for the purpose. I wish you all, dear children, besides your stated seasons of prayer, morning and evening, to form the habit of lifting up your thoughts and your desires to God in any and every situation; when walking by the way; when surrounded with company; when met by any call of duty, or by any circumstance of a doubtful aspect, or perplexing character—be in the habit of silently but devoutly looking up to God for wisdom and strength to perform every duty. This kind of intercourse with God may be carried on at all times, and in all situations; and, I will add, was never sincerelyadopted by any one without being connected with guidance and consolations of unspeakable value. In this way the suggestion of the apostle in writing to Timothy will be realized, that "every thingbe sanctified by the word of God, and prayer."
Dear Children:—That every human being is bound to cultivate, in the best manner, the intellectual powers which God has given him, I hope you will take for granted, anterior to all argument; and, although the moral aspects of education are the most vitally important, yet as no one can be a moral agent without some degree of intellect; so it may be said, that the wisest and best culture even of our moral powers, depends more on the discipline, the enlargement, and the furniture of the intellect, than is commonly supposed.
The cultivation of the mind comprises two things, and two only, viz: giving it proper habits of exercise, and filling it with useful knowledge. The case is precisely similar with regard to thebody. The sum total of all that we are called to do for the benefit of the body, is to secure its strength by constant and wholesome action or exercise, and to furnish it with appropriate nourishment. On the one hand, were itsexerciseever so abundant, if left without aliment, it would speedily sink into weakness and death; and, on the other, if its aliment be ever so plentiful and rich, yet if itbe left wholly withoutexercise, it will soon become a mass of disease and corruption. Precisely so is it in the cultivation of the mind. Exercise and aliment are equally indispensable, and must go together. If the mind be not taught to think, and to feel an appetite for intellectual provision, all the knowledge in the world, if introduced into it, would be of little use. But, if it be taught only to think and feel, and be furnished with none of the appropriate aliment of knowledge, it cannot grow either in strength, or in a capacity to act its part in the world with dignity or usefulness.
As these principles lie at the foundation of all intellectual culture, so they are also adapted to instruct us with regard to the wisest and best means of conducting that culture, with regard to the departments of knowledge most worthy of being studied, and the relative stress which ought to be laid on different pursuits. If you would be trained up merely to be splendid butterflies, to shine and to please the superficial and the empty, for a day, and, having done this, to die like senseless insects; why, then, a corresponding plan of culture must be adopted. But, if you wish to be regarded as rational creatures; to be prepared for sober thought and action; to "serve your generation by the will of God;" to die in peace, and to be remembered with love and veneration when you are gone, then it is perfectly manifest a very different method of training is indispensable.
I trust you will not hesitate a moment in deciding which of these courses you ought to choose. I trust the way of practical wisdom, of piety, and of usefulness, will be the object of your prompt and decisive choice. If so, the course of mental culture which you ought to adopt, cannot possibly be mistaken by a mind of the least reflection. If you are to feel and act as moral accountable agents, and to consider human life as a serious, momentous thing; then, doubtless, you will feel that you are bound, first of all, and above all, to exercise your minds in such a manner, and to store them with such branches of knowledge, as will tend most effectually to enlarge them, to strengthen them, to inspire them with practical wisdom, and to furnish them with the means of the most solid and extensive usefulness.
Upon this principle, I would say, let your first and chief attention be directed to those branches of knowledge which lie at the foundation of all that is enlarged, liberal, and elevated in human pursuits; such as Grammar, Rhetoric, Geography, the Latin, Greek, and French languages, Natural and Moral Philosophy, the elements of Mathematical science, Chemistry, and as many of the branches of Natural History as may be within your reach, especially Botany and Mineralogy. These are all proper for both sexes; and the more you gain of all of them, the better fitted will you be both for enjoying life, and for fulfilling its various and momentous duties.I grant, indeed, my dear grandson, that with regard to what is denominated Classic literature, and Mathematics, I wishyouto go more thoroughly to work, than would be desirable, or perhaps proper, for your sisters. But I hope that neither of these will be entirely neglected bythem. For I have an impression, that the careful study, to a certain extent, of the best of the dead languages, and an intelligent acquaintance with the elementary principles of Mathematics, ought to be omitted by none who can possibly attain them. In my opinion, they are adapted to produce an effect on the mind, and to diffuse an influence over all its other acquisitions, more happy and more important than is commonly recognised, even by many of the educated themselves.
Besides the popular sciences just mentioned, with which every human being who can afford it, ought to seek some good acquaintance, there is an extensive and important field of knowledge, which is defined by the general term ofliterature, and, in our case, ofEnglish Literature. There is a large class of writers, with whose works every one who claims to be intelligent and well informed, must be familiar. To this department belongs the whole subject ofHistory, which, I trust, will receive the serious attention of all of you; and about which I hope you will take enlightened advice, as a number of the most attractive and popular writers in this department, are unfit to beperused without much reserve and caution. To these, of course, ought to be added, those great writers, both in prose and poetry, which deserve to be ranked asEnglish Classics; and, with which, I feel confident, you will seize the earliest opportunity of becoming acquainted. I refer to such writers as Milton, Shakspeare, Dryden, Addison, Steele, Pope, Thompson, Gray, Young, Goldsmith, Johnson, Cowper, Beattie, and a number of others, whom I cannot pause to specify, but with whom it would be highly discreditable not to have some intimate knowledge. Without an acquaintance with these writers, you cannot appreciate the riches, the beauties, or the purity of your vernacular tongue, or form for yourselves a good style of writing. In these writers, too, you will find a great store-house of fine sentiment, as well as diction, adapted greatly to enlarge and elevate the mind, to impart to it its highest polish, and to prepare it for its best efforts.
There are certain accomplishments commonly calledornamental, deemed by many desirable for females, and by some considered as of much consequence. Among these are dancing, music, painting, drawing, embroidery, &c. With regard todancing, your beloved grandmother and myself never thought proper to permit any of our own children to be instructed in this art; not because we thought theactof dancing itself criminal, but because we considered it as inseparably and almostnecessarily connected with the whole system of balls, dancing assemblies, midnight parties, &c., all of which we deemed criminal, and in a great variety of ways, hostile to the principles and the claims of true religion. We do, indeed, find dancing spoken of in the Old Testament Scriptures, as having been employed, even on occasions of religious joy; but never on such occasions do we read of the midnight dance, nor of promiscuous dancing, that is, of the sexes together. And with respect to the New Testament, we read there of only one actual dance, and that was performed by a profligate woman, and connected with crime of the most atrocious and revolting character.
As tomusic, I am persuaded it is the duty of every one who is able to do it, to acquire the power of uniting in the social praise of God with excellence and efficiency. The cultivation of vocal music, and the attainment of such a degree of skill in it as is essential to imparting an interest in the exercise, are conducive to health and favourable to moral and spiritual improvement. So far, I am confident you ought all to go. And if my granddaughters should have a special taste and love for instrumental music, I am by no means prepared to advise that they deny themselves the pleasure. It is an elegant accomplishment, and when wisely employed, may be connected with innocent pleasure, and sometimes with benefit. But I should deeply regret to find them aiming atthatexquisite skillin instrumental music, which cannot be attained without great expense, much loss of time, and that intense and long continued attention which cannot fail to engross the mind and stand in the way of more worthy objects of pursuit, if it do not wholly exclude them. This is so unworthy of a rational accountable creature, that I would infinitely rather my dear grandchildren should know nothing of music, than that they should carry their zeal for it, and their devotion to it, to such an injurious length. And as to my dear grandson, while I hope always to hear him unite in singing the praises of God in the sanctuary with taste and skill, it would give me unspeakable pain to hear that he was regarded as a highly acceptable and admired singer at convivial meetings, and that his company was courted on that account. I concur in opinion with the old Grecian sage, who, when a young gentleman of his acquaintance, of respectable station and employment in society, had performed on an instrument of music with consummate skill and effect, said to him, "Are you not ashamed, my young friend, to play so well?"
In conducting the intellectual culture of the young, there is one question which I presume you will not fail to ask, and which I wish to anticipate and answer in this little system of affectionate advices. The question is, whetherNovelsought to have any place in the course of reading prescribed for young people? This is a question ofexceeding great importance. When I was a youth it was far less interesting and momentous, as a practical matter, than it has now become. Three quarters of a century, and more especially a century ago, the number of this class of writings was so small, and their popular circulation so inconsiderable, that their influence was scarcely worthy of notice, compared with that which they have more recently exerted, and which they are daily going on to extend. Bear with me then, dear children, while I dwell a little on this subject, and call your attention to some thoughts which I pray God may be deeply impressed upon your minds.
That fictitious history is not in its own nature and necessarily criminal, will probably be acknowledged by all. Itmaybe so construed as to awaken curiosity, to excite sympathy, and to impress the understanding and the heart in a salutary manner. Of course, to condemn every thing of the kindas such, and however constructed or employed, would be to pronounce an unjust judgment. Hence we find examples of this mode of instruction in the holy Scriptures; and on the same principle, some of the wisest and best human teachers in all ages, have used the vehicle of lively and interesting fiction, known to be such at the time, for insinuating into the mind moral and religious lessons, which in a different form, might not so readily have gained admittance.
But the great error of modern times is two-fold;First, in multiplying publications of this kind, until they bear an inordinate and injurious proportion in the current literature of the day; and,Secondly, in constructing them upon a plan adapted to degrade virtue and piety, to recommend vice, and of course to prove seductive and immoral in their whole influence.
Even when such works are perfectly unexceptionable in their character; when they are wholly free from any thing improper, either in language or sentiment, they may be productive of incalculable mischief, if, as now, they are issued in excessivenumbersandquantity. Leaving thecharacterof modern novels entirely out of the question, the enormous number which for the last half century has been every day increasing, has become a grievous intellectual and moral nuisance. As long as they werefewin number, and were regarded not as thesubstance, but only as theseasoningof the literary feast, they occupied but a small share of public attention. The chief time and attention of the reading portion of the community were mainly devoted to works of substantial value, fitted to strengthen, enlarge, and enrich the mind. But, within the last twenty or thirty years, the number of novels has increased so rapidly; they have become so prominent and alluring a part of the current literature of the day; and by their stimulating and inexhaustible variety, have so drawn away the minds of the aged as well as theyoung from solid reading, that they have formed the principal reading of a large portion of the community, and, of course, have become a snare and an injury to an extent not easily calculated. As long as exhilarating gases, or other stimulating substances, are administered sparingly, and as medicines, they may be altogether harmless, and even essentially useful. But, when those who have taken them for some time in this manner, become so enamoured with them as to be no longer satisfied with their moderate and salutary use, but make them their daily and principal aliment, they become inevitably mischievous. They destroy the tone of the stomach, and, in the end, radically undermine the health.
So it is with the insidious excitement of novels. Were the reader of them to take none into his hands but those which might be safely pronounced perfectly pure and innocent; and were he certain that he would never be tempted to go beyond the most moderate bounds in seeking and perusing even such, there would, perhaps, be little danger to be apprehended. But no one can be thus certain of either. The general stimulus of fictitious narrative is morbid and disorderly. It excites the mind, but cannot fill or enrich it. The probability is, that he who allows himself to enter on this course, will be led on, like the miserable tippler, from one stage of indulgence to another, until his appetite is perverted; his power of self-denial andrestraint lost; and his ruin finally sealed; or, at least, his mind so completely indisposed and unfitted for the sober realities of practical wisdom, for the pursuits of solid science and literature, as to be consigned to the class of superficial drivellers as long as he lives.
The truth is, novels—even the purest and best of them—are adapted, not toinstruct, but only toamuse; not tonourishandstrengthen, but only toexhilarate. They even enervate the mind; they generate a sickliness of fancy; and they render the ordinary affairs and duties of life altogether uninteresting and insipid. After wading through hundreds of the most unexceptionable volumes belonging to this class—what has been gained? What has been laid up for future use? Nothing. Not a trace of any thing useful has been left behind. The days and nights devoted to their perusal have been absolutely lost. What infatuation is it for a rational creature who is sent into the world for serious and important purposes, and who is hastening to the judgment seat, thus to waste precious time; and, what is worse, thus to pervert his mind, and disqualify himself for sober employments! The celebrated Dr. Goldsmith, in writing to his brother, respecting the education of his son, expresses himself in the following strong terms, which are the more remarkable, as he himself had written a novel:—"Above all things, never let your son touch a romance or novel. These paint beauty incolours more charming than nature, and describe happiness that man never tastes. How delusive, how destructive are those pictures of consummate bliss! They teach the youthful mind to sigh after beauty and happiness which never existed; to despise the little good which fortune has mixed in our cup, by expecting more than she ever gave; and, in general, take the word of a man who has seen the world, and has studied human nature more by experience than precepts—take my word for it, I say, that such books teach us very little of the world."[10]He might have gone farther, and said—They teach us little ofany thing; and so pervert the taste, as to take away all relish for applying the mind to any thing sober or useful. Often have I known young men and women so bewitched by novels, that they could read nothing else. They sought for new works of this class in every direction; devoured them with insatiable avidity; and became less and less disposed for pursuing any study either prescribed by their preceptors, or adapted to promote their ultimate enjoyment; until their prospects for both worlds were irrecoverably overcast with clouds and darkness.
Imagine not, dear children, thatyouwill exercise more resolution than others, and thus avoid the snare of which I have spoken. You cannotanswer for yourselves in this matter, any more than the man who is constantly exposed to the temptation of stimulating drinks can be sure of escaping the danger. Rely upon it, the more confident you are of your own wisdom and firmness in avoiding the evil in question, the greater your peril. In this, as in many other things, the only complete safety is to be found in wholly avoiding the dangerous territory.
But there is another source of evil in this department of literature, still more serious and formidable. A very large proportion of modern novels, are far from being innocent. They are positively seductive and corrupting in their tendency. They make virtue to appear contemptible, and vice attractive, honourable, and triumphant. Folly and crime have palliative and even commendatory names bestowed upon them. The omnipotence ofloveover all obligations and all duties, is continually maintained; and the extravagance of sinful passion represented as the effect of amiable sensibility. Surely these representations can have no other tendency than to pervert the moral sentiments, and to corrupt the hearts of those who habitually dwell upon them. And even though they be, at first, contemplated with abhorrence, no one can tell how soon the mind may be gradually and insidiously reconciled to them, by familiarity with the infectious influence.
For example; the novels ofSir Walter Scotthave been read with eager delight by millions of the young and the old; and many pronounce them at least innocent. But those who read them with intelligence, and with a proper estimate of the times and the characters which he undertakes to portray, will perceive that the writer arrays himself against the patriotism and the piety of some of the best men that ever adorned the history of his country; that he exhibits orthodoxy and zeal under the guise of enthusiasm and fanaticism; that he strives to cover with dishonour, men "of whom the world was not worthy;" and to elevate and canonize their persecutors. In short, that his general influence is wholly unfriendly to religion. These characteristics pervade the most popular of his novels. Of course few of his readers, especially of his youthful readers, are aware of his misrepresentation, and, therefore, are not armed against the mischievous influence.
But there is a poison lurking in this field, still more virulent and fatal. A large portion of novels may be charged with being seductive and immoral, upon a more refined and deep laid plan. They are systematic, and, in some instances, ingenious and plausible apologies for the most atrocious crimes. In many modern productions of this kind, the intelligent reader will recognise the following process of representation: Corrupt opinions are put into the mouth of some favourite hero, the splendour of whose character, in other respects, ismade to embellish the principles which he holds, and the force of whose eloquence is employed to recommend the most unreasonable and mischievous dogmas. When this hero commits a crime, and when, by this crime, according to the fixed laws of the divine government, he is involved in serious difficulty, if not lasting and fatal misery, the fashionable novelist endeavours to throw the blame on the religious and moral institutions of society, as narrow, illiberal, and unjust. When a splendid but corrupt woman, has forsaken the paths of virtue, and when she suffers in her reputation and her comfort, by such conduct, all this is ascribed to "the wretched state of civilization"—to "the deplorable condition of society." Every opportunity is taken to attack some essential principle of morality, under the tide of a "prejudice;" to ridicule the duties of conjugal and domestic life, as flowing from "contracted" and "slavish" views; to stigmatize the sober pursuits of honest industry, as "dull" and "spiritless;" and, in a word, to frame an apology for robbery, murder, suicide, and the indulgence of every propensity, for which a corrupt heart can plead an inclination.
Now, my dear children, when novels of this kind are placed on the shelves of every circulating library, and strewed over every part of our land, what security have youthful novel-readers that many of this class will not fall into their hands, and that they may not imbibe the fatal poisonbefore they are aware? Is it any wonder that wise parents and guardians are painfully apprehensive of such danger? Many amiable and well-intentioned young people, who fancied they were gaining amusement only, have been unwarily betrayed into opinions, and prepared for practices which they would once have regarded with abhorrence, and which ultimately led them into error, crime, and ruin. Since, then, there are so many novels of this insidious and baneful character; and since it is by no means easy for the young and inexperienced to distinguish between the innocent and the vile, you will not wonder that I advise, nay, entreat you to avoid the reading of novels altogether; never to allow yourselves to take a volume of this kind into your hands at all. The most innocent of them, as you have seen, are worthless, and the perusal even ofthem, a waste of time; and if you allow yourselves to touch any of them, you will be in danger of being led astray to an extent which you can hardly be made to anticipate. I beseech you, dear children, trust one who sincerely loves you; who understands the subject of which he is speaking; and who would not deprive you of a single safe or solid pleasure—trust him when he earnestly exhorts you,NEVER TO READ A NOVEL.
You will, perhaps, ask, what is my opinion of what are called "religious novels," that is, of fictitious narrative, designed to illustrate and recommend religion? I am compelled to say, that my deliberate judgment is unfavourable tothesealso. They are neither edifying nor safe as instructors in the great department of religion. I do not deny thatsomeof this class may be adapted to do good, and may have been actually useful. But this is not the question. The question is, whether, as a system, it is better to instruct in religion through the medium of fictitious narrative, and by means of thrilling incidents, or by plain, sober, didactic, and exhortatory address. In general, I cannot help deciding in favour of the latter. The reason why the large majority of mankind prefer fictitious narrative is, that they loveexcitement; and most youthful readers will be more likely to take interest in the "story," than in the moral lessons which it conveys. Condiments and stimulants are useful in our food; but to make our daily food consist wholly or mainly of condiments and stimulants, would not, surely, be wise or salutary.
But this is not the worst. Among the novels calledreligious, there are various classes. Almost all the different religious denominations have issued novels appropriate to their respective sectarian characters. We not only have those which have been put forth by the friends of truth and piety; but, also, many by the advocates of error. Socinianism is now strenuously inculcated through the medium of fictitious narrative. Cold Pelagianism on the one hand, and Antinomianism on the other, have beenpresented in the same manner. Amidst these alternate pleadings of orthodoxy and heresy, how shall the youthful learner discriminate? Were he to take up a didactic treatise in favour of Socinian or Pelagian opinions, he would see the error in a moment, and be on his guard against it. But when he is borne away by the excitement of a stirring narrative, and a spirited, eloquent dialogue, he may imbibe the poison of error, before he is aware.
You must not, dear children, consider me as fanciful, if I express an opinion, that the present prevailing state of mind of the religious public has some connexion with that class of novels of which I am now speaking. The most striking characteristic of the present time isa love of excitement. The old and sober mode of proceeding in any thing has become unpopular and intolerable. Our children can scarcely be prevailed upon to read any thing unless it comes in the shape of a striking story. If any one wishes a pioustractto be read, he must construct it in the form of a thrilling fictitious narrative. Every dish must be highly seasoned; every draught must be a dram. Is it any wonder that, in such a condition of the public taste, all old methods of doing good should be despised, and the Church as well as the world filled with new opinions, new estimates of things, and "new measures?"
Be assured, when your mind is brought, by anymeans, whether by an insatiable love of fictitious narrative, or by any other form of exciting composition, to relish nothing conveyed in the old form of solid, didactic, direct instruction, it is high time to examine whether you are not acquiring habits unfriendly to sober thought, to the best mental culture, and to the acquirement of the most valuable knowledge. How often have I met with young people, of both sexes, who could talk fluently, and with apparent intelligence, of the volumes of Miss Burney, Mrs. Radcliffe, Madame De Stael, Miss Edgeworth, and Scott, and Cooper, and Bulwer, and even of the depraved and infamous Byron;—but, who were struck dumb if you spoke to them of Shakspeare; of Bacon; of Milton; of Addison; of Thompson; of Young; of Dryden; of Pope, and Johnson, and Robertson, and Junius, and Cowper, and other English classics, of whom, if they had ever heard, they seemed to know nothing! Is this the way to cultivate the mind? Does this speak for or against the devourer of novels?
The sum of my counsel, then, under this head, is, that if you wish really to cultivate your minds, and to prepare them for healthful and useful action, let your studies be solid, diligent, and persevering. Let your reading be such as will fill your minds with the knowledge of facts, principles, and sentiments of the enriching and elevating kind. Let your first and most intimate acquaintance bewith those authors whose works will tend to fit you for answering the great purpose for which you were sent into the world. Carefully avoid every species of reading which tends to turn away your minds from sober, practical views of life and duty. And remember that, for every book you read, and for every mental influence which you invite, you have to render a solemn account.
There is one more counsel, dear children, with which I will close this letter. It is, that whatever subject you study—whatever book you read, you do itfaithfullyandthoroughly. Leave nothing until you understand it well;—until you have, as far as possible, gone to the bottom of it. You may rely upon it that no solid knowledge is to be gained without patient, unwearied labour. Be not in haste, then, to pass on to another subject or lesson, until you have completely mastered that in which you may be engaged. Be not contented with merely enabling yourselves to recite a lesson with plausible fluency. Be sure that you thoroughly comprehend, not only its obvious meaning, but also its elementary principles. Despise the indolence of those, who, in learning languages, are constantly using the miserable crutches oftranslations, instead of walking with the use of their own limbs; and who, whenever a difficulty occurs in mathematics, or any other subject, instead of delving it out themselves, ignobly ask help from some wiser and better scholar. This ischeating yourselves. That which is gained by your own efforts, and with considerable labour, will be better understood, and more firmly lodged in the mind, than that which is imparted gratuitously by others, without any vigorous mental exercise on your part.
The fact is, the pursuit of knowledge may be compared to the task of one who is called to cross a high and craggy mountain. If he is willing to forego his own best interests, both as to bodily and mental health, he may employ some sturdy, athletic assistant to take him up in his arms, and bear him over the steep ascent, and deposit him in safety on the other side, without the use of a muscle of his own. But what would he be the better for it, at the end of his journey? His limbs would not be braced. His chest would not be expanded. He would miss a thousand interesting objects of attention which the use of his own feet would have brought to his view. After a thousand such boasted expeditions, he might live and die the same feeble, nervous dyspeptic, that he was when he set out. Whereas, he who resolves to climb the same mountain by his own efforts; who addresses himself to the task with patient persevering labour; who takes step after step, slowly, but wisely and firmly; may not gain the ascent quite as speedily as his weaker contemporary; but he will gain it much more to his own profit and comfort, and, in the end, find every power invigorated by theenterprise. O, if children and young people could feel how foolish it is to procure themselves to be borne up the mountain of knowledge by others, instead of climbing it themselves, they would despise all the "labour-saving machinery" to which many of them are so fond of resorting; and would remember that what is gained by their own intellectual efforts, is more solid, wears better, digests better, and is productive of richer fruit, both to themselves and others.
It is a law impressed by our Maker on the intellectual, as well as the physical man, that "if any will not work, neither shall he eat." It is a real blessing, if we did but know it, to have labour connected with all our attainments. Thus do we best answer the great end of our being; thus do we invigorate every power, and become prepared most effectually to "serve our generation by the will of God."
Dear Children:—By theheart, I mean the moral feelings, dispositions, and affections. And bycultivatingthe heart, I mean directing much attention to restraining, regulating, and purifying all its exercises. This may be said to lie at the foundation of all duty and all happiness. Were your intellectual powers cultivated with all possible care and success, and your moral faculties neglected, you might be polished and elegant demons; but would be miserable yourselves, and a curse to society. Whether, therefore, you regard your own present enjoyment, and everlasting welfare, or the happiness of those around you, you cannot too early remember the great purpose for which you were sent into the world, and the relations which you sustain as rational, social, and immortal creatures. You cannot too early or too diligently learn to restrain your passions; to deny yourselves; and to cultivate those benevolent, meek, humble, and amiable habits, which are indispensable to tranquillity and peace of mind, and which alone can prepare you to adorn and bless the social circleswith which you may be connected. I draw your attention the more earnestly to this great subject because I see so many young people who appear never to think of the importance, or even utility of this part of their education.
If you have not learned, dear children, that you are by nature prone to be proud, vain, selfish, envious, irascible, sensual, malignant, and, in a word, to indulge the various appetites and passions which tend to destroy your own peace, and to invade the comfort of those around you; if you have not discovered that this is the tendency of your nature, and that resisting it will call for much self-denial, and continual, and sometimes for agonizing effort, you have attended less to your own feelings, and habits, and less to the character of your friends and associates than I am willing to suppose.
Perhaps you will ask—Does notreligioncover all this ground? Where the power of Christian principle reigns in the heart, will not every thing intended to be included in this letter follow as a matter of course? If theplan of salvation, treated in a former letter, be received and obeyed, will not all the objects contemplated in the present letter, be included and secured? Whence, then, the necessity, or even the propriety, of making it matter of separate consideration? I answer, the religion of Christ, in its spirit and power, does indeed embrace all moral excellence. It does, in fact,where it bears appropriate and entire sway, include every moral feeling, affection, and habit, which can adorn and elevate human nature. And yet it is to be lamented that many who cherish the Christian hope, are not as much aware of this fact as they ought to be; and are not so careful to exhibit all theloveliness, as well as thepurityof example which become them, as is desirable. And, besides, I have always found that there is a great advantage in pursuing rather more into detail the various branches of the Christian temper, than is commonly done even in the best treatises on religious character and duty. The French have a phrase which expresses more exactly than any English one which I can recollect, my meaning in the title of this letter. The phrase I refer to, isLes petites morales; by which they appear to understand thosemoral delicaciesof feeling, temper, and intercourse, which, though not always found actually shining in every professing, or even every real Christian, do really belong to the Christian code of ethics, and are indispensable to a complete and exemplary character.
The duties which grow out of our relations to God, are generally acknowledged by all professors of religion. However defective their obedience, their obligations are seldom disputed. But if it be the law of God, not only that we should "love Him with all our heart and soul and strength and mind," but also that we should "love our neighbours as ourselves," then the duties growing out of this great law are more multiplied, tender, delicate and important than most of those who are called religious people recognise in practice, or even in theory.
It is true, the root of all sound morality is religion. And it is equally true, that the deeper sense any one has of the constraining love of Christ, and of the holiness, majesty, omniscience, and omnipresence of God, the more faithful he will be in the discharge of all moral duties, both in private and in public. Labour then, day by day, to gain a deeper impression of the claims of your Creator and Redeemer upon you. Meditate much on the Divine glory. Cultivate a devout spirit. Study to walk with God in the exercise of faith, and love, and prayer. And endeavour to keep constantly before your minds his all seeing eye, his infinite holiness, his judgment seat, and those righteous retributions which he has in store for all his creatures, whether they be good, or whether they be evil? This is cultivating the heart in the most essential and radical sense. This is going to "the root of the matter." That morality, and that alone, which is grafted upon this sanctified stock, will be regarded with approbation by the Searcher of hearts, and stand the test of the great day.
But while you labour with your hearts, that they may be habitually laid open, with all the softness and tenderness of spiritual sensibility, to the claims of your Creator and Redeemer; study with no less diligence to cherish a deep sense of all the duties which you owe to your beloved relatives, to your friends, to your neighbours, and to all with whom you have intercourse. To perceive the theory of these duties, is the province of the understanding; to enter into them, as a practical matter, and under a solemn sense of obligation, is an affair of the heart; and the more deeply your hearts are schooled both in the principles and practice of these duties, the more they may be said to partake of that culture which I am now recommending.
When I imagine to myself what an influence your precious Mother might have had in cultivating your moral feelings and habits, if it had pleased God to spare her to you; when I think of the happy power which her delicate, forming hand, might, by the divine blessing, have exerted over the heart of each of you;—the heart—as Mrs. Hannah More expresses it—that "seat of evil propensities—that little troublesome empire of the passions;"—I could sit down and weep afresh that you are never to enjoy that culture. But, happily, there is a source of infinitely better culture. Try to lay to heart your weakness and your wants, and implore without ceasing the enlightening, subduing, and sanctifying power of the Holy Spirit, and you will find "his grace sufficient for you."
There are special duties which you owe to your beloved surviving Parent, and to all your domestic relatives, of the most peculiar and tender kind; duties which it is equally your privilege and your honour to discharge. These are veneration, love, gratitude, and a dutiful respect to all their feelings, as well as their interests. Here children are extremely apt to fail. Affection is generally found to descend from parents to their offspring, and in general from elder to younger relatives, in great strength; but from children to parents, or from the young to the old, it seldom rises with equal vigour. Let not this be said of you. Constantly cherish toward your beloved Father, and all your elder relatives, not merely an outward respect, and dutifulness of deportment, but a cordial and ardent affection; a sincere and lively gratitude for all those anxious cares and labours on their part for your benefit, for which you have been indebted ever since you were born, and for which you can never make an adequate return. Try to please them by the constant manifestation of love, confidence, and grateful veneration; and let them see that you treasure up, to your profit, all their instruction, reproofs, and warnings. When theheart, as well as the outward conduct, is conformed to these sentiments, O, how endearing and happy is the intercourse between parents and children! What a charm is diffused over the whole aspect of domestic society!
Let me entreat you, also, early to learn the duty and the pleasure ofliving in affectionate harmony among yourselves. I can scarcely express to you the pain which I have sometimes felt when I have perceived any thing like a spirit of strife and acrimony rising between you, and leading to the exchange of angry looks and passionate language. Surely three motherless children ought to feel more closely bound together than to indulge in such a temper and conduct. If you do not love one another, who can you expect will love you? Be careful, then, continually to cultivate a spirit of brotherly and sisterly affection toward each other. Let nothing interrupt this. When any contest arises, let the only strife be, which shall be the first to yield, rather than contend. On no account allow yourselves to employ harsh, much less violent language toward each other. And if any contest arises which you cannot settle between yourselves without violence, let a united appeal to your Father, if he be present, or in his absence, to your grandparents, terminate the controversy. Seldom does a conflict of this kind arise without there being blame on both sides. And who so proper to make the proper award, and to adjust every difficulty, as those who love you all equally and dearly, and have age and experience on their side?
Let me enjoin on you to begin, as early as possible, to cherish a spirit ofhabitual benevolence—a desire, wherever you go, to promote thehappinessof all around you. Selfishness is the great master-sin of human nature. "All seek their own." Theyoung, especially, are apt to be swallowed up in the excessive pursuit of their own enjoyment, and that enjoyment is rarely sought or found in ministering to the wants, and promoting the comfort of others. But rely upon it, dear children, this is a narrow and altogether deceptive view of the best means of happiness. Not only is it the divine command that we "love our neighbour as ourselves," but it is equally certain that obedience to this great law tends as directly to make ourselves happy, as it does to promote the comfort of the objects of our benevolent attention. If you wish to be happy yourselves, study continually to make all around you so too. The luxury of doing good is the richest luxury of which we are capable. It is the very spirit of Christ, who "went about doing good;" and the more closely we commune with him in the exercise of the same spirit, the more we secure true and rational enjoyment. Wherever you are, then, cultivate a spirit of sympathy with the afflicted, and the habit of flying spontaneously to the relief of suffering. You cannot begin too early to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, to minister to the wants of the sick and dying, to relieve distress of every kind, and to "please every one for his good to edification:"—not by flattery, which is too commonly the method of pleasing adopted; but by lettingit be seen that you seek, as much as in you lies, to make all around you truly happy. Never promote mirth at the expense of others. Never allow yourselves to "set others by the ears" as it is sometimes expressed, for the sake of derision. Carefully avoid all those "tricks," which so many of the young delight in, and by which so much suffering, and sometimes even ultimately the loss of life, have been incurred. In a word, conscientiously cherish the principle and the habit of never giving a moment's pain to a human being, or even to a brute beast, unless it be necessary for their real good; and wherever you see pain, by whomsoever inflicted, do all in your power, consistent with other obligations, to relieve it, and to give rational pleasure. There is nothing, be assured, dear children, in all the splendour of fashionable display, in all the gratifications of sense, in all the delirious joys of giddy dissipation, once to be compared with the hallowed pleasure of habitually doing good to all within your reach. Yes, make doing good your "ruling passion," and you will be among the happiest of mortals.
Let me beseech you to watch over yourtemperwith studious care. Few things are more unhappy in a young person of either sex, than an irritable, irascible temper. It betrays into a thousand indiscretions. It poisons social intercourse. It alienates friends. It destroys the comfort of the individual who indulges it; and it interferes with thecomfort of all with whom he converses. I have known this infirmity to cast a cloud over the whole course of many persons who were otherwise fitted to adorn and bless society. Watch and pray against it with the utmost diligence. "He that ruleth his own spirit is greater than he that taketh a city." "Be swift to hear, slow to speak, slow to wrath." Learn "by soft answers to turn away wrath," both in yourselves and others. Be not ready to take offence, or to consider any one as "an offender for a word." Never regard an honest difference of opinion from yourself as a personal affront. Surely the indulgence of such a spirit is as unreasonable as it is unhappy. Guard with the utmost vigilance against a jealous, suspicious temper. Ill nature, peevishness, and a disposition to take every thing by an unfavourable handle, and to indulge in satire and sarcasm, are revolting in every human being, but especially in the female sex. I have never known such a temper to be indulged without diminishing both the respectability and happiness of its possessor. Let a mild, amiable, conciliatory spirit reign in all your intercourse. Be ever kind, tender hearted, and forgiving, even as you hope to obtain forgiveness from the God of all grace. Let the spirit of benevolence, and a desire to please, shine in your countenances, and be manifest in your deportment in all companies; at home and on journies; in the public hotel, and in the parlour of a friend;towards servants, as well as towards your equals or superiors. In a word, in temper as well as in conduct, "Whatsoever ye would that others should do unto you, do ye even so to them, for this is the law and the prophets."
In forming your moral character and habits, I entreat you to lay great stress upon cultivating a sacred and delicate regard totruth, in all your social intercourse. Rely upon it, you cannot pay too conscientious a regard to this point. A fault here is as dishonourable as it is criminal. I do not allow myself to fear that my beloved grandchildren, after the training they have received, will ever indulge in deliberate falsehood. In this there is a meanness as well as a sin, which I hope they will equally despise and abhor. But it is to be lamented that there is much in social conversation, in which many people deemed respectable are apt to indulge themselves, and which I hope you will make conscience of sacredly avoiding. I mean all exaggeration in your descriptions; all high-colouring in your statements; all indulgence in fabulous narratives, even in jest, for the amusement of company. Aside from the dictates of religion in this matter, which are sacred and conclusive, there is something in these habits adapted to lower the character, and to diminish the influence of those who indulge them, with all sober-minded people. Whatever may be the consequence, let a regard to the strictest verity, as if you were on oath, reignin all you say and do. Avoid the meanness, as well as the sin of the slightest departure from absolute truth. Let all underhand deceptive contrivances, all low cunning, all habits of carrying your plans by disingenuous arts, be abhorred and avoided. How gratifying would it be to those who love you, to know that it had passed into something like a proverb among your acquaintance—"The statement is from a Breckinridge—and therefore may be depended on!"
Let me farther entreat you to guard against all indulgence of the spirit ofpride, orvanity. Bypride, I mean such an inordinate and unreasonable conceit of our own superiority in any respect, as leads us to look down on others as beneath us, and to treat them with haughtiness, or contempt. And byvanity, I understand that excessive desire for the applause of others which leads to egotism, and such a weak anxiety to attract the notice, and gain the approbation of those around us, as are apt to betray into little and unworthy arts for gaining the object. That both ought to be repudiated, as at once folly and sin, I hope no formal argument will be necessary to convince you. But still, they are both besetting sins, which cleave with deplorable obstinacy to multitudes whose judgment is against them. Be assured, dear children, pride is as foolish as it is criminal. Who made you to differ from others? And what have you that you have not received? If you have minds, or an education,or outward circumstances more favourable than those of many others, who conferred them upon you? If, therefore, you have received all, why should you glory as if you had not received them? I know that we sometimes hear people talk of a "laudable pride," an "honest pride," "a noble pride," &c. But such language is a grievous abuse of terms, and ought to be forever banished from the vocabulary of Christians.Pridewas "the condemnation and snare of the devil," and is in all cases a weakness and a sin. To call a proper personal dignity and self-respect by this odious name, is altogether incorrect and deceptive. To speak of a disposition to avoid a mean action as "a noble pride," is a perversion of language, as well as of moral principle. "Be clothed with humility; for God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble." "Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall; for when pride cometh, then cometh shame, but with the lowly is wisdom."Vanityis a passion still more childish and degrading. It exhibits a rational creature hanging on the smiles and the praise of his fellow worms for his importance and happiness. O, what infatuation for miserable sinners, who deserve nothing at the hand of God but wrath, and the overflowing of wrath, and who are dependant on his bounty for every breath, to be puffed up with high thoughts of themselves, and arrogantly to claim the incense of praise! Fly, then, frompride and vanity with the utmost vigilance. Study to be "meek and lowly in heart." "Mind not high things, but condescend to men of low estate." "In lowliness of mind esteem others better than yourselves." "Be not wise or great in your own conceits." Be not greedy of praise. Despise all the unworthy arts of seeking and fishing for it. Rely upon it, the lower you lie in the dust of abasement, the happier you will be. The more you are disposed to love and honour all around you according to their real character, the more infallibly you will secure their love and confidence in return. And the less anxious you are to gain the applause of men, the more likely you will be to attain it, if you are found humbly and diligently performing your duty. In short, if I wished you to gain the highest degree of esteem and honour among men, I would say—Do not seek this object anxiously, or even directly at all. Never inquire what others say or think of you. Speak of yourselves, in conversation, as little as possible. Treat your superiors with uniform respect, but not with fawning or flattery; and your inferiors, down to the lowest servant or beggar, with undeviating condescension and kindness; trying to benefit every one, and promote the happiness of every one; and you will have as much of the love and respect of all as you really deserve, and probably more. If you sincerely try to promote the happiness of all around you, and do it with a kind andamiable manner, I believe it is one of the cases in which our Lord's declaration never fails to be fulfilled—"Give, and it shall be given unto you, good measure pressed down and running over shall men give into your bosom."
Strive with sacred care against every feeling approaching to the passion ofenvy. As you are now at an age when you are called daily to compete with school and play-mates, you may be sometimes strongly tempted to indulge in this passion. But it is a base passion. Beware of it. How fiend-like, to sicken and repine at excellence! How base, to be displeased and mortified when we contemplate the superior prosperity, happiness, or accomplishments of others! When you witness such superior attainments or excellence, let the only effort be to excite gratitude to God for its existence, and a generous emulation of it in yourselves.
Guard with vigilance against atalebearingandtattlingspirit. I will not suppose you capable of deliberateslander, or cruelly circulating reports to the injury of others without just evidence. This is so base and mean, that I trust you will ever abhor and despise it. But it is the infirmity of many, who intend thereby no injury, that they delight in circulating news concerning their neighbours, and have not a little of the true gossipping spirit. This is a bad habit. It degrades the individual who indulges it, in the view of all wise,reflecting people; often involves in painful explanations and difficulties; and is frequently followed by consequences of the most perplexing and disreputable kind. Never indulge the disposition to repeat idle stories about neighbours. If they are repeated in your presence, listen to them either in silence, or with a civil remark, which cannot possibly implicate you, or be construed into an approval of the scandal. It was an excellent appeal which was once made by a wise and benevolent man whom I knew in early life—"Why can you not talk more aboutthings, than aboutpersons?"
Let me farther exhort you, as a point of duty, to cultivate habitualcheerfulness. When I say this, you will not understand me as recommending a spirit of levity and frivolity. This is unworthy of rational, accountable creatures, and indicates as much of weakness as of sin. Those who spend their lives in gaiety and mirth, are "dead while they live." But by cultivating habitual cheerfulness, I mean cherishing a pleasant state of the animal spirits; as opposed to constitutional gloom, mental depression, and settled, clouded taciturnity, I mean habits, not of light, but of lively and affable conversation. Such a state of mind does good like a medicine. It contributes to our own enjoyment. It makes us more pleasant and useful to those with whom we converse. It may even operate to promote health and prolong life; and in various ways extend our power of doing good.
Guard with conscientious care against habits ofindolence. A tendency to this sin is one of the radical symptoms of the great moral disease of our nature; and you cannot begin too early to labour and pray for effecting a cure. Fly from idleness as a habit connected with a legion of evils. Make a point of always having something useful to do—something to fill up every moment left vacant between the larger and more important tasks of life. I am aware that we all stand in need ofrecreation; but this is often best attained bya change of employment. When you have finished a sedentary task, which required intense application of mind, think, for a moment, whether there be not some other object to which you may attend for a short time, which will require no mental effort, but by attention to which, you may promote either your own health or comfort, or the advantage of others. Make it your daily study to "redeem the time." Try to turn every moment to some valuable account. For this purpose, form, as early as possible, a plan, a systematic order in your daily tasks. Without such a plan, more or less formally adopted, you will inevitably lose much time in passing from one engagement to another. But if you manage always to leave something useful with which to fill up every little interval; so as never to be idle, and never to waste time with frivolous, or worse than frivolous employments, you will be more happy, and live moreto your own true honour, and the benefit of your generation.
I have only to add on the subject of this letter, a single word on the great importance of maintaining strict and habitualtemperancein all your enjoyments. If you wish really to enjoy life, and to "live out all your days," you must exercise moderation and self-denial in eating and drinking, and in every department of indulgence. Temperance has been defined—the moderate use of things useful, and total abstinence from those which are pernicious. This is an excellent definition, which I trust you will ever keep in mind, and make your daily and hourly rule. To be thus temperate, is a divine command. It is eminently conducive to health. It is highly advantageous to the activity and strength of the powers of the mind. And it is an admirable defence against a thousand irregularities and mischiefs which cloud the faculties, destroy comfort, and lead to multiplied forms of disease, and to premature graves. If you habitually restrain appetite, deny yourselves, and "let your moderation be known" in all things, and to all men, you will avoid many evils which continually beset those who act on the system of self-indulgence. Never drink any thing but pure water, when in health; indulge in animal food butoncein each day, and that in smaller quantities than most people consider as temperate. Labourers in the open air may, not only with impunity, but perhaps withprofit, eat animal food more than once every day; but I am persuaded few other persons can do it without disadvantage to their health. My personal experience and observation in regard to this point are very decisive. Nay, I would advise you to go one step farther. Make the experiment of wholly abstaining from animal food at least one day in each week, for the purpose of "giving nature a holyday;" of clearing the body and the mind from crudities; and taking a new start in refined feeling and unclogged activity.
In fine, let it be the object of your unceasing study and prayer, to "keep under the body;" to "crucify the flesh with the affections and lusts;" to subdue and restrain all irregular tempers; "if it be possible, as much as lieth in you, to live peaceably with all men;" to avoid wounding the feelings of any one with whom you converse, unless required to do it by a pure sense of duty; to promote the happiness of all around you; and to be continually seeking and improving opportunities of doing good.