But because he refused to drink he was made an object of ridicule among them. They said he had not sufficient _manhood_ to drink rum. But he had sufficient manhood to _refuse to drink rum_; and it requires much more to refuse than to drink.

Nothing can be more false than the idea that it is courageous and manly to fall in with the habits and practices of those with whom we are obliged to a.s.sociate. It is a sign of _cowardice_ rather than of _courage_. The _sheep_ is the most timid of animals. But if a man is driving a flock of sheep, and one of them gets frightened and turns out of the way, all the rest will follow, no matter if it is over the railing of a bridge into a river. The boy that drinks or swears or plays truant, or breaks the Sabbath, because his companions do, is as courageous as--_a sheep!_

While the workmen and apprentices were revelling over their rum, and insulting and misusing this boy, he often retired and vented his grief in tears. But a few years changed the aspect of things. As they grew up, and entered upon the world for themselves, all the older apprentices fell into habits of dissipation, and finally sunk into the drunkard's grave. But the little boy, at whose abstinence they used to scoff, grew up a sober and respectable man, engaged in business for himself, and a few years ago, was worth a hundred thousand dollars, and had in his employ one hundred and ninety men, none of whom used ardent spirits. All this came from his having courage to say NO, to those who held the poisoned cup to his lips.

_Poison._

A little boy, four years old, wandered from his home, one day, in the town of Turin, N. Y., to a field where some men were at work. There he found a bottle of spirits, of which he drank freely. When found, he was lying on the ground, unable to speak. He was carried home to his mother, and the Doctor was sent for; but he could do nothing for the poor boy.

He remained stupid till evening, and then died. The rum had poisoned him. Not a great while before this, his father was drowned in a fit of intoxication. "Touch not, taste not, handle not."

_"Am I to blame, Mother?"_

A lad in Philadelphia, some years ago, joined the Temperance Society.

The father and mother, who were what are called _moderate_ drinkers, were displeased with him. The boy said nothing for sometime, but bore patiently the chidings of his mother. At length, he undertook to vindicate his conduct: "Am I to blame, mother? Sister Mary has married a drunken husband, who abuses her every day. Sister Susan's husband was intemperate, and has gone off, and left her, and you are obliged to take her home, and take care of her children. Brother James comes home drunk almost every night. And because I have joined the cold water company, and you are likely to have one sober person in the family, you are scolding at me! Am I to blame?"

_How it happened._

There was a young man in college, one of the brightest, who was greatly beloved for his personal attractions, frankness, good nature, and generosity. But he was occasionally found flushed with wine, and then he was turbulent and ungovernable. At length, in one of these fits of excitement, he committed a misdemeanor for which he was expelled from college. Soon after this, he became very dissipated, abandoned his studies, and finally became a sot. People wondered how such a lovely young man could fall into such ruinous courses. A young lady, conversing about him, said she remembered that, when he was a little boy, just beginning to study Latin, she saw his mother bring him a loaf of cake and a gla.s.s of wine for a lunch. She then thought that perhaps he would become a drunkard, and so it turned out. Beware of the first gla.s.s.

GOING TO THE THEATRE.

William R. was a young man of good habits--a lovely youth, "the only son of his mother, and she was a widow." He was sent from the country, where he had been brought up, to the city of New York, where he was employed as a clerk. Hearing much of the _Theatre_, and seeing it puffed in the newspapers, he thought he would _go once_, just out of curiosity, to see what was done there. But, he was so fascinated with what he heard and saw there, that he went again; just as some birds are so charmed with the gaze of the serpent, as to run straight into his mouth! There William fell into evil company, who enticed him away to the haunts of infamy. Intoxicated with these things, he continued to frequent the theatre until the expense was more than his earnings. He then began to steal money from his employer. He was detected and fled. After some time, his friends, hoping he had learned something from experience, sent him to another city. For a time he seemed to be thoroughly reformed. But evil habits once acquired are not easily overcome. He soon fell into the same round of folly and sin, till he lost his character and his employment, and in his despair, committed suicide!

Here, again, my readers will see that TOTAL ABSTINENCE is the only safe rule. This boy's ruin was the consequence of going to the theatre _just once_. If he had resisted an idle curiosity in the beginning, he would have been saved. There are some things that we ought not to desire to see. Among these, are the things that are done at theatres and other places of amus.e.m.e.nt and pleasure, which abound in cities. It is dangerous to look upon them. It is like looking down from a giddy height upon a rapid current of water. It turns the head, the foothold is endangered, and the life put in jeopardy.

_The Pa.s.sion for Gaming._

The following anecdote shows the strength of this pa.s.sion, when once it has gained the ascendancy:

A colored man employed as a fireman on board a steamboat, between Cincinnati and New Orleans, lost all his money, at play with his companions. He then staked his clothing, which he also lost. Having nothing more, he laid down his free papers and _staked himself_. Losing this time, also, he was actually sold by the winner to a slave dealer.

What a power must this pa.s.sion have over a man, when he will play at the hazard of his own liberty, which most men esteem dearer than life! Young man, if you once contract this habit, you will have no power to restrain it. You will gratify the pa.s.sion at the hazard of every thing. My mother used to relate an anecdote of some young men, who retired to a garret to play at cards, where they would not be seen. There was an open cask of powder in the room, and they had stuck a lighted candle into the powder, which served the purpose of a candlestick. The man at whose house they were, coming to the loft for some purpose, observed them a few moments before the candle had burned down to the powder, and creeping softly so as not to alarm them, s.n.a.t.c.hed away the candle. In a few moments more they would have been blown to atoms.

The only security against gambling is similar to that against intemperance: TOTAL ABSTINENCE FROM GAMES OF CHANCE. If you never learn any play that can be used in gaming, you will be safe from the snare.

But with the knowledge of such games, you will scarcely escape its seductions.

_Danger of Playing for amus.e.m.e.nt._

There was a family, consisting of the father and mother, two sons, and one daughter, who lived in Tennessee. The father and mother used to play cards with the children for amus.e.m.e.nt. The sons went to college, and the father's business required him to be much of the time from home. On one occasion, while the sons were at home, during vacation, the father wrote a letter requesting the eldest son to bring him five thousand dollars.

The young man was accordingly despatched with the money. He went on board a steamboat, where he met a company of gamblers, in the garb of gentlemen, who professed to be only playing for amus.e.m.e.nt. To this he had been accustomed, from his childhood, at his father's house, and thought no harm of it. He was solicited to play, and consented. After playing a few moments, they agreed to bet one dollar on the game. He lost, and then doubled his bet, and went on so, till soon he had lost what little money he had about him. He became much excited, went to his state-room and drew out a large package of bills, and returned to the table, where very soon he had lost twelve hundred dollars. He now came to the place where he was to leave the steamboat and go to his father; but he was so intoxicated with the excitement of the gaming table, that he went on. He played on, and continued to lose. Several of the more respectable pa.s.sengers tried to get him away. But the pa.s.sion for gaming had taken such possession of his heart, that he was held to the spot, till his package of five thousand dollars was all in the hands of three hardened gamblers. Two of them afterwards won from him his watch and his diamond breast pin, and left him without money enough to buy a meal of victuals.

About ten days after he left, his mother received a letter from his father, saying that he had heard nothing from him. She immediately took her younger son and went in pursuit of him. But, the only intelligence they could gain concerning him was, that he had been ruined by a company of gamblers. The father immediately started for New-Orleans, in search of his son, but hearing nothing from him, he, in despair, took to drinking, and returned, after two years' absence,--"his frame worn--his cheek pale--his eyes wild and fevered--his lips parched--his hopes crushed--his very life only the motion of excitement and pa.s.sion--his very soul shattered--his property mortgaged." In a short time he went again in pursuit of his son, but returned home, heart-broken, and died of _delirium tremens_, the drunkard's disease. The daughter and the other son, both became maniacs. Thus was a whole family ruined, in consequence of the foolish habit of playing cards for amus.e.m.e.nt. If that young man had never learned to play cards, he would, in all probability, have gone on his way, and reached his father in safety, with the money.

And, if he had been firmly principled against playing, his answer, "I _never play_," would have stopped all solicitation. I travelled on those Western waters, when I was a young man, at a time when gambling was carried on every hour of the day, and almost the live-long night; and yet I was never solicited to play. And why not, as well as this young man? Because, (1.) I did not know how to play; (2.) I felt a great aversion to it, and did not hesitate to show it; and (3.) I made myself known as a _religious man_. These three things will always be sufficient to defend a young man against the most wily gamesters in the world.

The case I have related, is only one among hundreds that might be stated, in which the ruin of many a promising young man has been accomplished, by alluring him to play cards for amus.e.m.e.nt, and then gradually leading him on to stake first small sums, which he is permitted to win, and then he is persuaded to go on, till he has not a farthing left. There is a set of men, in all parts of the country, who make a business of gambling, and league together to draw in unwary youth and strip them of all they possess, and of more, if they can lay their hands upon money not their own.

Beware, then, how you excite a pa.s.sion for gaming, by playing for amus.e.m.e.nt. I am afraid of _all games_; but, especially, all games of chance. I think there is a strong tendency in them all to excite a pa.s.sion for gaming, which will not be satisfied without something more stimulating than mere amus.e.m.e.nt. If I see a boy rolling marbles, or a young man shuffling cards, I think he is in the high road to ruin.

Marbles is a dirty play. It treads on the heels of low company and gambling. We frequently hear boys crying out, with all the braggardism of a practiced gambler, "_I'll bet_" so and so. But all betting is gambling. "TOUCH NOT, TASTE NOT, HANDLE NOT."

CHAPTER V.

INDUSTRY, LABOR, &c.

Early discipline, in laborious and useful occupations, is indispensable to the formation of a good character. If G.o.d had designed that we should live at ease, without exertion, he would have furnished every thing to our hand, without any effort of our own. In his holy word he has taught us the necessity of helping ourselves, requiring us to labor six days for one of rest, and ordaining that, "if any would not work, neither should he eat." The same lesson he taught an untutored Indian, by the voice of Nature.

_A lesson from the Birds and Fishes._

Rev. Mr. Heckewelder, a Moravian Missionary, remarked to an Indian, whom he saw busily employed fencing his cornfield, that he must be very fond of working, as he had never seen him idling away his time as was common with the Indians. "My friend," replied the Indian "the fishes in the water, and the birds in the air have taught me to work. When I was a young man, I loitered about, doing nothing, just like the other Indians, who say that working is only for whites and negroes, but that the Indians were made to hunt the deer, and catch the beaver, otter, and other animals. But one day while I was hunting, I came to the banks of the Susquehannah, and sat down near the water's edge to rest awhile.

There I was forcibly struck at seeing with what industry the sun-fish heaped small stones together to make secure places for their sp.a.w.n; and all this labor they did with their mouth and body, without hands.

Presently a little bird, not far from me, raised a song, and while I was looking to see the little songster, its mate, with as much gra.s.s as it could hold in its bill, pa.s.sed close by me, and flew into the bush, where I perceived them, both together, busily employed in building their nest, and singing as their work went on. I entirely forgot my hunting, to contemplate the objects that were before me. I saw the birds in the air and the fishes in the water working diligently and cheerfully, and all this without hands. I thought it was strange and I became lost in wonder. I looked at myself, and saw two long arms, provided with hands and fingers, and with joints that might be opened and shut at pleasure.

I could, when I pleased, take up any thing with these hands, hold it fast, or let it loose, and carry it along with me. When I walked, I observed that I had a strong body, capable of bearing fatigue, and supported by two stout legs, with which I could climb to the top of the highest mountains, and descend at pleasure into the valleys."

"And is it possible," said I, "that a being so wonderfully formed as I am, was created to live in idleness; while the birds, which have no hands, and nothing but their little bills to help them, work with cheerfulness, and without being told to do so? Has then the great Creator given me all these limbs for no purpose? It cannot be: I will try to go to work. I did so, and went away from the village to a spot of good land, where I built a cabin, enclosed ground, sowed corn, and raised cattle. Ever since that time, I have enjoyed a good appet.i.te and sound sleep. While others spend their nights in dancing, and are suffering with hunger, I live in plenty. I keep horses, cows, hogs, and fowls. I am happy. See, my friend, the birds and fishes have brought me to reflection, and taught me to work!"

If any of my young friends, who read this book, think it a hards.h.i.+p to work, I hope they will go into the fields, and like this untutored Indian, learn lessons from the creatures whom G.o.d has made. There they will find the little ants busy in rearing their habitation; the mole in raising his hill; the birds in building their nests; and the little busy bee, in sucking honey from every flower. Yet all these little creatures appear happy and contented with their lot. If G.o.d made them to be happy, as we suppose he did, why did he not make them to live an idle, inactive life? Evidently because activity is necessary to enjoyment. If you would be happy, then, you must be active. Laziness, or idleness, will certainly make you discontented, wretched, and miserable.

As I was one day walking in one of those beautiful avenues that lead out of the village of Saratoga Springs, my attention was arrested by two of those insects, which children call by the homely name of "_grand-father-long-legs_." They were laboriously occupied in rolling a round ball, of the size of a walnut, covered with a glutinous substance, dried hard in the sun. I could not be so cruel as to break it in pieces, to gratify my curiosity; but I suppose it must have contained some treasure that was dear to them--probably their eggs. They would labor and tug, with their long arms, to roll it up an ascent; and if it rolled back again, they would patiently return, and roll it up, showing an example of perseverance well worthy of imitation.

Thus G.o.d has made all things to be active. All nature, animate and inanimate, calls man to labor. If old ocean did not ebb and flow, and roll its waves, it would stagnate, and become so noxious that no animal could live on the face of the earth. If the earth did not pursue its laborious course around its axis, one half of its inhabitants would be shrouded in perpetual night, while the other half would be scorched to death with the ever-acc.u.mulating intensity of the sun's rays. Can you find any thing, in all the vast creation of G.o.d, that is idle? The sluggard, of all G.o.d's works, stands alone--_idle_! He resembles the stagnant pool, whose impure waters, filled with the loathsome creatures, and all manner of filth, saturate the atmosphere with pestilential vapors, and spread around it disease and death. But, the active, industrious man, resembles the running brook, whose waters are kept limpid and clear by their unceasing flow.

"_Business first, and then Pleasure_."

A man who is very rich now, was very poor when he was a boy. When asked how he got his riches, he replied, "My father taught me never to play till all my work for the day was finished, and never to spend money till I had earned it. If I had but half an hour's work to do in a day, I must do that the first thing, _and in half an hour_. After this was done, I was allowed to play; and I could then play with much more pleasure than if I had the thought of an unfinished task before my mind. I early formed the habit of doing every thing in its time, and it soon became perfectly easy to do so. It is to this habit that I now owe my prosperity." Let every boy who reads this, go and do likewise, and he will meet a similar reward.

_Industry_.

A gentleman in England had an estate which was worth about a thousand dollars a year. For a while, he kept his farm in his own hands; but at length, he found himself so much in debt that he was obliged to sell one half of his place, to pay up. The rest, he let to a farmer for twenty-one years. Towards the end of that time, the farmer on coming to pay his rent, asked him whether he would sell his farm. The gentleman was surprised that the farmer should be able to make him an offer for his place. "Pray tell me," said he, "how it happens, that, while I could not live upon twice as much land, for which I paid no rent, you are regularly paying me five hundred dollars a year for your farm, and able in a few years to purchase it?" "The reason is plain," answered the farmer: "You sat still, and said '_Go_.' I got up and said, '_Come_.'

You lay in bed, and enjoyed your ease. I rose in the morning, and minded my business."

This anecdote shows the folly of those young men, who set up for gentlemen, and despise labor and useful employment. Though they may begin with a good capital, they will soon run down, if they depend upon others to do their business. If they have nothing, they will certainly gain nothing. Laziness, poverty, and rags, will go together.

CHAPTER VI.

TRUE GREATNESS.

_True Greatness does not consist in feeling above others_.

Fools think themselves _great_, in proportion to the show they can make; but it would take a great heap of copper coins to make as much value as a very little piece of gold; and an empty tin kettle will make more sound than a golden vessel filled with the choicest delicacies.

When Mr. Jefferson was President of the United States, he was pa.s.sing a stream on horseback, in Virginia. A beggar approaching it at the same time, asked him to help him over. The President let him get behind him on the horse and ride over. When they had got over, the beggar discovered that he had left his bundle; and Mr. Jefferson went back again and brought it over. This was true greatness. A man can never be too great to do a kindness to the humblest individual in the world.