Critical, I mean, as regards his character. Yes,
imminently so. You are aware that, besides your attention to business, and
acquiring a knowledge of the trade or profession to which that attention is
directed, there is such a thing as the "formation of character"—or fixed
habits of action, arising out of fixed principles. A man may be a good
tradesman, and yet a bad man; though, generally, good moral character has a
very favorable influence in forming the good tradesman. I wish you to direct
your most serious attention to the importance of character—moral and
religious character. What is everything else without character? How
worthless is any man without this! He may have wealth, but he can neither
enjoy it, improve it, nor be respected for it, without character. But it
very rarely happens that those who begin life with a bad character, succeed
in the great competition of this world's business. Multitudes, with every
advantage at starting, have failed through bad conduct, while others, with
every disadvantage, have succeeded by the aid and influence of good
character.
Character for life—and for eternity too—is usually formed
in youth! Set out with this idea written upon your very hearts, in order
that it may be ever exerting its powerful influence on your conduct. As is
the youth, such, in all probability, will be the man—whether he be good or
bad. And as character is generally formed in youth, so it is not less
generally formed at that period of youth when young people leave home. The
first year or two after leaving his father's house, is the most eventful
period of all a young man's history—and what he is at the expiration of the
second or third year after leaving the parental abode, that, in all
probability, he will be, as a tradesman for this world—and as an immortal
being in the next! This should make you pause and consider. Before you read
another line, I entreat you to think of it. Perhaps you doubt it. Attend
then to what I have to offer in support of the assertion.
Does not reason suggest, that such a transition as
leaving home, will powerfully influence the remainder of your life? You
cannot leave so many restraints, so much inspection and guardianship, and
come into such new circumstances, at an age when the heart is so
susceptible, and the character so pliable, without receiving a bias—it is
impossible. New temptations assail you, which, if not at once and
successfully resisted, will acquire a permanent ascendancy!
Your parents, who have gone before you in the path of
life, know the fact, and tremble. It makes their hearts ache to think of
sending you away from home. You know not, you cannot know, what was the deep
and silent trouble of your father's heart—the painful solicitude of your
mother's gentle spirit—in the prospect of your leaving them. They sat hour
after hour by the fire-side, or lay awake at night talking on the subject,
and mingled their tears as they thought of other youths they know, whose
ruin was dated from the hour of their departure from home. "Oh!" they
exclaimed in anguish, "if this our son should be like them, and become a
prodigal too, it would bring down our grey hairs in sorrow to the grave! O,
that we could that we could keep him at home under our own care—but we
cannot!" They then fell upon their knees, and by united prayer gained relief
and comfort to their aching hearts, while commending you to Him, who has in
ten thousand instances been the guide and protector of youth. While your
mother, good woman! as she packed your trunk, dropped her fast flowing tears
upon your clothes, placed the Bible among them, and sighed out the petition,
"Oh my son, my son! Great God, preserve him from all evil."
Ministers have seen the danger of youths leaving home,
most painfully exemplified in young men who have come from a distant town,
recommended perhaps by parents to their care, and who for a while attended
their ministry. At first their places in the sanctuary were regularly filled
twice a day, and while the novelty lasted, they appeared to hear with
attention and interest—this soon diminished, and they became listless and
neglectful; then their seat was occasionally empty on a sabbath evening;
then habitually so; until at length, giving up the morning, or only
strolling in occasionally with some mirthful companion, they proclaimed the
dreadful fact, that they had fallen into the dangers incident to young men
upon leaving home—and the next news concerning them, perhaps, was a letter
from a heart-broken parent, confirming the worst fears of the minister, by
asking him to make effort to snatch their son from his evil companions and
profligate courses.
Instances innumerable have occurred, in which youths,
who, while dwelling under their father's roof, have been the joy and the
hope of their parents, have, on leaving home and entering into the
world—exhibited a melancholy and dreadful transformation of character. Some
by slow degrees have passed from virtue to vice, while others have made the
transition so suddenly, as if by one mighty bound they had resolved to reach
the way of the ungodly. In either case, the bitterest disappointment has
been experienced by those who have had to contrast the prodigal abroad—with
the sober youth at home.
Youthful reader, I assure you that this is no uncommon
case, but, on the contrary, so frequent, as to make every considerate parent
tremble at sending away his son, especially to the large provincial towns,
and most of all to that mighty sink of iniquity—the metropolis.
What, then, should be the state of your mind, and your
reflections, upon reading such an account as this? "Is it so, that on
leaving a father's house, so many young men, who were once virtuous and
promising, have become vicious and profligate. How much does it become me to
pause and reflect, lest I add another to the number! What was there in their
circumstances and situation so dangerous to virtue, that I may not expect to
find in mine? Or what is there in my habits and resolutions, which was not,
in their better days, in them? Did they fall, and shall I be so confident of
steadfastness, as to dismiss fear and despise caution? Do I recoil from
vice? So did they, when, like me, they were at home. Do I shudder at
grieving my parents by misconduct? So did they, when, like me, they had
their parents continually before them. Am I going forth high in the
confidence of my parents, and the esteem of my friends? So did they. Yet how
cruelly have they disappointed every hope that was formed concerning them!
And what is there in my habits and purposes that shall prevent me from
imitating their example? Oh, if this should be the case! If I would add
another to the victims of leaving home! If my reputation, now happily so
fair, should be tarnished, faded, lost! If I, of whom hopes are entertained
that I am becoming a Christian, should turn out a prodigal, a profligate!
Dreadful apostasy. Great God, prevent it!"
Could I induce you thus to reflect, I would have hope of
you; while a contrary spirit of self-dependence and confidence, would lead
me to expect in you another proof that the time of a youth's leaving home is
most critical.