"Lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God." 2
Timothy 3:4
"Young men away from home must have something!" you are
ready to say, "to interest—to amuse—to gratify them! They have been called
to sacrifice the comforts of their father's house, and to endure many
hardships and much discomfort—and need something to enliven and divert their
minds!" True. But it should be of a kind that will not endanger their
health, their morals, or their future interests—and especially their souls.
To seek relief from the labors of business, the gloom of solitude, or the
annoyance of an unpleasant home—by "the pleasures of sin, which are but for
a season"—is to recruit our wearied nature, and to enliven our dull frame,
by drinking a sweet-tasting and effervescing draught of deadly poison! That
young man is not only not truly pious—but scarcely acts the part of a
rational creature, whose love of diversion leads him to seek such
gratifications as are ruinous to all his interests for time and eternity!
A love of pleasure, a taste for amusement, as such—is a most dangerous
propensity!
Business, young man, business is what you should attend
to. There is pleasure in industry. Employment is gratification. But still
you repeat, "We must have something which shall interest the mind when
business is over; which shall be a subject of diversion and mental
occupation—to fill up the gaps of thought during the day, and which shall be
an object to which the eye may constantly turn for refreshment and relief
amid all that is disgusting and disheartening in the rough cares of our
situation." Well, here it is! Here is a glorious object! Here is what you
need—just what you need—and all you need! True religion, true religion, my
reader, will prove to be, if you try it, an engaging companion, a
sympathizing comforter, an ever-present friend, and a sure guide to the
fountain of happiness!
Do not listen to the ignorant testimony of those who have
never tried it, and who represent it as the enemy of human delight; but
attend to the intelligent witness of those who speak from experience, and
who declare it to be the very element of happiness. Who would take the
evidence of a blind man about color and form; or of a deaf one about sounds;
or of one without the sense of taste about flavor? And equally irrational
would it be to take the opinion of an ungodly man about true religion!
It is a truth, which the experience of millions has
proved, that "Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness, and all her paths are
peace." Consider what true religion is—not mere bodily exercise, a drudgery
of forms and ceremonies. No! But an occupation of the mind and heart! An
occupation, too, which engages the noblest contemplation of the mind, and
exercises the purest affections of the heart. It is the employment of the
whole soul upon the most sublime object that mind can be conversant with.
Mental occupation is essential to felicity, and here
it is in perfection and permanence. Dwell upon the privileges of true
religion; the pardon of sin; full and free justification; the favor of the
eternal God, together with the consciousness of that favor, and communion
with Him; peace of conscience, like the sunshine on the heart; the
renovation of our corrupt nature; and the subjection of passion, appetite,
and animal propensity—to rules which Scripture prescribes, and reason
approves—and all this united with the hope, prospect, and foretaste of
eternal glory! I ask, can the man whose mind is in this state be otherwise
than happy? I wish to impress you with the idea that the individual who is
thus religious, whose piety is Scriptural, evangelical, experimental—and not
superstitious, nominal, and ignorant—must be happy; not, indeed, perfectly
so, for perfect happiness is known only in the heavenly world. But he is
contented and satisfied, as being in a state of repose.
His mind is not anxiously and ignorantly urging the
question, "Who will show us any good?" He has a definite idea of what will
make him happy; he is not in quest of something to occupy his mind and
satisfy his heart—but has found it, and is at rest! He has become possessed
of a supreme object of interest, which his heart loves, and his
conscience approves, an object which has many and great advantages; it is
always at hand, for it is with him, yes, in him! He proves the
truth of the assertion, "The good man shall be satisfied from himself;"
because the spring of his happiness is in his own bosom! He is calm
and tranquil. His pleasures are not only pure—but peaceful. His pleasures
occasion no agitation, no painful reflection, no remorse. His pleasures are
inexpensive. They do not unfit him for business, nor create in him a disgust
with his trade or profession—but brace and invigorate him to carry on its
labors, and endure its cares. His pleasures do not impair his health or
enervate his mind—but are all of a healthful nature, both as regards the
body and the soul.
True religion, moreover, includes duties that are
all agreeable. The love of God, the service of Christ, the practice of
holiness, the destruction of sin, the cultivation of charity, all are
pleasant. The Christian, in going the house of God, enjoys far more delight
than he does who treks about on Sunday excursions. The reading of the
Bible, although it does not fascinate the imagination, and kindle the
passions, like a novel or licentious poem—soothes, softens, and sanctifies
the heart. Prayer is one of the most elevating exercises in which the
soul can be engaged, for it is man speaking to God—the poor frail, finite
child of dust and ashes, admitted, through the mediation of Christ—to an
audience with the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God. And
as to the pleasures of friendship, where are they enjoyed in such perfection
as in the communion of saints?
Nor is this all—for true religion supplies an
inexhaustible source of the deepest interest—in the various great and
glorious institutions which are formed and in operation to promote the
moral, spiritual, and eternal welfare of mankind; to many of these, young
men are contributing, in different ways, their valuable assistance. I can
with confidence ask, whether the polluted and polluting scenes of earthly
pleasures—to which many resort, can yield half the satisfaction which is
enjoyed at public meetings of pious institutions, where interesting facts
unite to captivate the imagination and delight the heart. There is more real
enjoyment here, than in any of those sinful diversions in which men of
corrupt taste find their amusement. The great enterprises for the conversion
of the world, now carrying on its operations through all lands, supplies an
object of unrivaled sublimity, splendor, and importance, and which, by
firing the ambition, and employing the energies of youthful piety, never
fails to be productive of pure delight, as often as the eye contemplates it,
or the mind is conscious of promoting it.
Blessed with true piety, a youth may be happy anywhere
and everywhere. The apprentice, serving the most tyrannical employer, or
oppressed by the most unfeeling and hard-hearted boss, will still find, if
he possesses true religion, a relief sufficient to lighten the yoke and
soften the rigors of the hard service. And how it will cheer the solitude of
the clerk or the shopman in his private lodgings, when neither friend nor
companion is near! There he can commune with his God, and pray to his
heavenly Father, though his earthly one be far from him. He is not now
tempted to leave his cheerless dwelling in quest of comfort, for he can find
enough in pious exercises—or if he wishes, as he lawfully may do—to relieve
his solitude, he can be happy in hearing a sermon, or going to the meeting
of some Christian committee with which he is connected, or to the public
meeting of some society which may be held in the neighborhood.
Solitude itself is not disagreeable, for he wishes to
cultivate his mind by knowledge, and his heart by piety; and when exchanged
for social communion and pleasures, they are of a kind to do him not
harm—but good. True religion thus makes him comfortable whether alone—or in
society.
Young man, I want you to be happy, and I am sure there is
only one thing that will make you so—and that is true piety. You may be
amused and gratified, pleased and diverted, at least for a while, without
this; but amusement and diversion are only 'substitutes' for happiness—not
the thing itself. Man was made for the service and enjoyment of God—and he
cannot be truly happy until he is brought to answer the end of his creation.
Who can tell what sorrow awaits him in future life? Oh,
could I lift up the 'veil of futurity', and disclose the scenes of your
history, how would your heart sink to foresee the trials that are in reserve
for you! Setting out upon the voyage of life, with a bright sky, a smooth
sea, a fair wind, and every sail filled with the favorable breeze, you may
soon have to encounter the storm that will reduce you to a wreck on some
lonely and dreary shore. Your trade may fail, your wife may die, and your
constitution may sink under the pressure of accumulated woes. What is
there to comfort and support you amid solitude, and the long, dark, wintry
night of adversity? True religion, had you sought it in the season of
youth and health, would have helped you to sustain the shock of misfortune
by its consoling and strengthening influence! But you have neglected it, and
in its absence, there is nothing human or Divine to support you, and you
fall, first into poverty, then to drinking, then to the grave, and then to
the bottomless pit!
How many who have died of a broken heart, or as slaves to
drunkenness, and have gone from the sorrows of time to the torments of
eternity, would, if they had possessed true religion, notwithstanding their
misfortunes, have lived in peace, died in hope, and been blessed forever!
True religion, if it led only to misery upon earth, if it were really
the gloomy and pleasure-destroying thing which many represent it, and others
believe it to be—yet, as it leads from everlasting misery to eternal bliss
hereafter, would be our highest as well as our incumbent duty! For who would
not escape from hell and flee to heaven, if it could only be done by passing
through dark or gloomy places, or a perpetual martyrdom?
But instead of this, true piety is the most serene and
delightsome thing on earth! It is the sweetener of our comforts—the softener
of our cares—the solace of our sorrows! It deprives us of no enjoyment but
what would injure us—and gives other and far better ones in place of those
it takes! It is the spring flower of youth—the summer sun of our manhood—the
autumn fruits of our declining years—and the lunar brightness of the wintry
night of our old age! It is a verdant, quiet, secluded path to the paradise
of God! And, after giving us the light of his countenance in life, the
support of his grace in death, will conduct us to his presence, where there
is fullness of joy, and to his right hand, where there are pleasures
forevermore!