
^^•^v^W^frf*' 



BV 4501 .T6 1867 
Todd, John, 1800-1873. 
Hints and thoughts for 
Christians 



niNTS AND THOUGHTS 



CHRISTIANS. 



BY llEV. JOHN TODD, D. D. 




PUBLISHED BY THE 

AMEEICAN TEACT SOCIETY. 

150 NASSAU-STEEET, NEW YOIIK. 



Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 18C7, by 
the Amekican Tract yociETY, in the Clerk's Office of the Distiict 
Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. 






*"^v'..- 



CONTENTS. 



I. Tiirniug the Spy-Glass - page 5 

II. Cutting Dovni Expenses 10 

in. Giving Made Easy - 17 

rV. Uncle Jerry -- 2G 

V. A Sting, and its Cure '■'>■) 

VI. Home Missions at Home -- - 11 

VII. Home Missions at Home - 18 

VLII. Our Friends - 5f) 

IX. Why We Lose Our Friends --- 63 

X. A Mmister Wanted -- 71 

XI. Spiritual Indigestion 78 

XII. A Model Superintendent 85 

Xin. Keeping the Sabbath 91 

XIV. How to Make our Prayer-meeting Dull — 99 

XV. How to Make our rraycr-meeting Interesting - 10 j 

XVI. Family Government -- Ill 

XVn. The Model Deacon 118 

XVm. "We Hire by the Year" 126 

XIX. Preaching to Children 135 

XX. Palingenesia 142 

XXI. The Young Man's Letter 150 

XXIL The Old Folks at Homo - 158 

XXm. Philarguria 161 



4 CONTENTS. 

XXIV. Tobacco-Eaising Christians 183 

XXV. A Queer Old Lady - 191 

XXVI. Anonymous Letters - - -- 19G 

XXVn. Chriytians TraveUiug 20i 

XXVIIL Old Samp 2P 

XXIX. Breaking the Left Arm •• 21S 

XXX. " The Age of the Press " - - 226 

XXXL Hints to our Churches 234 

XXXn. "Why Thomas was not at the Prayer-meeting- 21? 



HINTS AND THOUGHTS 



FOR 



CHRISTIANS 



I. 

Turning the jSpy-Glass. 

Did you ever look through a spy-glass ? 
How it magnifies every object that comes 
within its range ! How plainly you can see 
things that are a great way off! And then, 
did you ever turn it and look into the large 
end ? How small, and how very far off it 
makes every thing look ! And yet you see 
every thing very distinctly, though they seem 
so small. 

In looking back upon the years and the 
things that are past, I sometimes seem to be 
looking through a spy-glass in this way. How 



6 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

small, and yet how distinct cvoiy thing ap- 
pears. 

I was lately recalling the first funeral that 
I was called to attend after my ordination. It 
was in a distant part of the town, in a small 
brown house, low and old and humble, on 
the side of a hill. In it there lived a young 
widow with her two babes, and her aged fa- 
ther. They were all the world to each other. 
If I remember rightly, the husband had been 
suddenly and instantly killed at his work by 
the breaking of some machinery. And now 
his wife, the daughter of the old man and the 
mother of these little children, was to be bur- 
ied. The house was crowded at the funeral, 
for all the neighbors respected this family, 
and felt for them in their sorrows. 

I cannot recall the name of the family — 
they were not of my flock. But I remember 
the picture. The old family Bible much worn, 
lay on a little candle-stand, and the best chair 
in the house was set for the minister. Near 
the head of the coffin sat the old father, and 
on each knee a little grandchild, about eigh- 
teen montlis old — for they were twins. They 



TUENING THE SPY-GLASS. 7 

were dressed in little white robes, with a sim- 
ple knot of bhick ribbon on each shoulder. 
The aged one put an arm round each child, 
while the tears literally rushed down his face. 
But they, the little motherless ones, sat con- 
tented, playing with the white locks of their 
grandfather, feeling that all was right with 
them so long as they had him with them. All 
the roomful of people wept at the sight, rather 
than at any thing that I could say. 

I wondered if that mother, in her new 
home, w^as then thinking of these beautiful 
babes. I wondered if it was of such Christ 
was speaking when he said, " Their angels do 
always behold the face of my Father in heav- 
en." And now I am wondering what must 
be the state of that Christian mother, reared 
in that little home, as her spirit hath grown 
in the world of light, and what is the history 
of those little babes : Have they been sancti- 
fied, and have they joined their mother, or 
do they still linger in this world of trial ? In 
a lowly, very likely an unknown grave, that 
old man sleeps; but has he not forgotten all 
his tears here, in the blessedness of heaven ? 



8 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Another thought — a more sad one. I said 
that all who attended that funeral were much 
affected. There was hardly a dry eye among 
them. But I never heard that one of them 
was so affected as to turn to Christ and be- 
come a Christian. Such feelings are "like 
the morning cloud and the early dew," unless 
the Spirit of the Lord make them deeper than 
tears. 

As we go along in life and turn the spy- 
glass and look back, we see the frailties and 
the faults of our departed friends grow less 
and less, and smaller and smaller, till at 
length we see nothing left but their goodness 
and their excellencies. And will it not be so 
for ever, till the time shall come, in the prog- 
ress of the soul, when we shall forget all their 
faults, and remember only what was good, 
and thus we shall see onl}^ "the spirits of 
just men made perfect .^" 

On the other hand, as we turn the sp}- 
glass, our own shortcomings and sins do not 
seem smaller or fewer. They seem more in 
number and larger in size, till our past life 
seems very barren of good, and very full of 



TURNING THE SPY-GLASS. 9 

evil. May it not be so for ever ? And thus, 
as we advance, the mercy of God and the 
compassion of Christ will seem more and more 
precious to the soul, till we can admire him, 
love him, and trust him more and more. Per- 
haps one of the feelings, when Christ comes 
"to be admired by all them that believe," 
will be this great sense of un worthiness. But 
we would not have it otherwise. We shall 
continue to turn the spy-glass for ever, we 
doubt not; and if "the hole of the pit" from 
which we were taken seems deep and dark, 
and if "the rock whence we were hewn" 
seems rough and hard, so much the more shall 
we adore and praise the Lamb who hath re- 
deemed us. Oh, reader, often turn the spy- 
glass and look back on your life. What you 
see will do you good and make you better. 



1* 



10 HINTS A>JD THOUGHTS. 



II. 



Cutting Down Expenses 

We all cry out upon the extravagance of 
our day, showing itself in every thing and in 
every form. We hear a great deal too said 
about the duty of "cutting down expenses," 
and returning to primitive habits. We feel 
that it is a duty, especially for men who live 
on salaries and small stated means. But it is 
much easier to acknowledge the duty, and to 
exhort others to it, than to perform it. I sym- 
pathize with those who, like me, are making 
the experiment. Now to begin : postage. A 
very small affair, you think. True, but I know, 
from actual accounts kept, that my postage 
costs me far more than it did at the old dear 
rates. I often now send off eight letters a 
day, no one of which is on my ov/n account ; 
and I think I send at least six now, where I 
did one then ; this multiplies my paper, pens, ' 
and ink six times, and how am I to "cut 
down?" When so much |s put within our 



CUTTING DOWN EXPENSES. 11 

reach, our desires grasp largel}', and we feel 
that it is a duty to use freely, and as the 
Irish father wrote to his son, when postage 
was put down from twelve pence to a penny, 
"Write often, Georgie, and remember that 
every letter you write saves your father elev- 
en pence." 

In one of our financial reverses or ;yanics, 
I was greatly amused at hearing one of my 
rich friends describe his attempts at "cutting 
down expenses." He had heavy engagements 
on hand, had met with losses, and the sky 
looked dark. So one morning before going 
to the store, after having drank his cup of 
"Mocha," and eaten well, he began, 

"Wife, I do believe w^e must begin at 
once and curtail our expenses. Times are 
fearful, and I don't know what a day may 
bring forth. I come home to poor sleep, and 
I go away trembling every morning." 

" Yery well, my dear, I feel just so, and 
will agree to any thing you propose, and will 
second every plan. Where shall we begin ?" 

"Why, there's m}" cigars. I can leave 
oflf smoking, I rather think." 



12 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

My friend is a foreigner, and had been 
brought up in a country where every male 
smokes from childhood to the grave. 

"Oh, no, no; why, you have smoked all 
your life long, and it would kill you to stop. 
And besides, you have a thousand, or perhaps 
three thousand on hand, all paid for. I wont 
hear a word to your denying yourself so. I 
wont hear to that." 

"Well, you are a dear, good wife, and I '11 
not dispute you ; but do you now propose." 

"Suppose we sell the coach horses. It's 
very expensive to keep them, and we very 
seldom use them, you know." 

"True, true. But, my dear, if we sell the 
horses, then Tom will have nothing in the 
world to do, and you would n't turn Tom 
awa}^, surely?" 

" Why, I did n't think of that. Why not 
sell old Kate, we never use her ?" 

"Yes, but old Kate has got a baby, and 
you don't know into whose hands that beau- 
tiful colt will fall." 

"Oh, now I do think of one thing. AVe 
can do without the lire in the hall ; that great 



CUTTING DOWN EXPENSES. 13 

^stove burns a world of coal, and wc can get 
along without it; all the chambers have regis- 
ters by which to let in heat." 

"True, but you know that grandmother 
has to go through the entry to get to her 
room, and you would not make her go through 
a cold hall, would jou ?" 

"Well, now you propose ; for I can't think 
of any thing else." 

"Suppose, my dear, you do with one girl 
less ; there are only three of us, and perhaps 
two girls could get along." 

" Yery well. I am agreed. Which shall 
we turn off?" 

"Suppose it be Sue; she has lived with 
us only two years, and the others arc old set- 
tlers, and it would seem hard to turn them 
away." 

"So be it. I will give her notice this very 
day." 

Off went my friend to his counting-room, 
quite elated that he was "cutting down ex- 
penses." It was to save him four or five dol- 
lars a week. It brightened the whole day. 
But alas for human gladness! When he got 



14: HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

home at night, the whole hovise was in dis- 
tress, grandmother crying, and wife crying, 
and Sue utterly used up. 

" Well, what 's the matter now ?" 

" Oh, Sue don't w^ant to go," says grand- 
mother. 

" She 's lived here so long, and is so much 
at home here," says wife. 

"She has no place to go to," says grand- 
mother. 

"She says places are scarce now, especial- 
ly good places," says wife. 

"Sue, Sue," shouted my friend. In came 
Sue, almost howling at the cruelty of her 
master. 

" Why, Sue, do n't you want to go ?" 

"No, sir; why should I? I feel that I 
can't go." 

"Yery well. Sue, stay, stay; we'll all 
swim or sink together." 

And thus ended his ' ' cutting down expen- 
ses." 

In this case there was no real necessity. 
But it is not so with the poorer classes of 
society, to which we ministers and most of our 



CUTTING DOWN EXPENSES. 15 

people belong. It is very doubtful whether 
we have it in our power to make great changes 
at once. But we can begin, or as splendid 
writers would say, "inaugurate" small ones 
at once. Where we used to have a pair of 
new boots yearly, by properly oiling the 
leather, tops and bottoms, once in two weeks, 
we can make them last two years. By prop- 
erly brushing and hanging up the hat, using 
the old one in storms, we can make our hat 
last two years instead of one. By a careful 
management of the stove, you can double the 
value of your fuel. By using molasses on 
your cakes instead of Stuart's syrup, by 
learning to use less sugar by half a teaspoon- 
ful, by having fewer pies and cakes on the 
table, by watching the soap-barrel, that there 
is no waste there, by watching a thousand lit- 
tle leaking-placcs, which a good wife can do, 
we can "cut down expenses." The true econ- 
omy in buying is to get the hest, not the most 
fashionable, but the best quality or none. I 
have always found the best merino dress for 
the ladies the cheapest in the end. True 
economy is to go without, or get good quality. 



16 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Do n't be ashamed of bciug economical. Any 
tiling but debt. By all means, at any present 
suffering, unless you are on tlie sick-bed, keep 
out of debt. If you must run in debt, borrow 
in a large sum, and not run up little bills here 
and there. You are a prisoner for life if jow 
do. If possible, save fifty dollars a year, if 
no more. You cannot imagine how different 
you feel if you have a little saved, and you 
are adding to it even a little. I have a noble 
friend on whom I have just called living on a 
salary. And they, by keeping account of 
every cent they spend, and by cutting down 
and being careful at every spot, contrive to 
lay aside the fifty dollars as often as before 
these salary-trying times. They are just as 
happy, show no meanness, and I honor and 
love them the more. Come now, good reader, 
what will you do towards ' ' cutting down ex- 
penses?" 



GIVING MADE EASY. J7 



III. 



Giving M.ade Easy. 

Those who arc open-liandccl, free, gener- 
ous, and to wlioni it is easy to give away, are 
not the people who have the means, usually, 
of sustaining the charities of the church and 
of the age. It is those who naturally love 
money, who labor and toil for it, and who 
save it, and to whom it is naturally hard 
work to give away, who have this work to do. 
They are naturally covetous, jind will live 
and die so, unless another principle — the con- 
straining love of Christ — comes in and makes 
them liberal. Xow if I can suggest to all 
such — those who have conscience and Chris- 
tian ])rinciple, and who want to be liberal, but 
find it hard work — a method by which they 
can give easily, I am sure they will thank me. 

The key then which will easily unlock the 
heart and open the purse, and make giving 
easy, is to make giving to Christ a part of wor- 
ship. 



lb HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Open to the eiglitli chapter of Second Co- 
rintliians, and you will see that giving is con- 
sidered an outflowing of the grace of Christ 
which was in them. "As ye abound in every 
thing, in faith, in utterance, and knowledge, 
and in all diligence, and in your love towards 
us, see that ye abound in this grace also. For 
3^e know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, 
that though he was rich, yet for your sakes 
he became poor, that ye through his poverty 
might be made rich ;" that is, the grace which 
brought Christ from heaven to the cross will 
flow out of the Christian, because if he have 
not the spirit of Christ he is none of his. 

Under the Jewish system there was no 
worship without giving, and every act of giv- 
ing was an act of worship. When David and 
the princes of Israel gathered together to 
make an offerhig to build a temple which he, 
and probably many of the princes would never 
see, what a magnificent offering they made 
with prayer and worship; and the gifts and 
the worship rose up to the high heavens to- 
gether. When Solomon came to dedicate the 
temple, he offered a model prayer, and hon- 



GIVING MADE EASY. 19 

orcd God with all the ciulowmciits of his great 
mind ; but with it he i)i'eseirted his twenty- 
two thousand oxen, his one hundred and twen- 
ty thousand sheep, and other things in pro- 
portion. Eeckon it up and see if it could be 
less, according to our lowest estimates, than 
thirteen hundred thousand dollars. This you 
will say was a national offering, on a most 
extraordinary occasion. True ; but you will 
recollect that in all their worship every man 
was to bring an offering: " None shall appear 
before me empty." And lest any should say, 
"I am not a prince, I am not rich, I cannot 
bring my talent of gold, or my unblemished 
bullock, or my sheep," the poor man was not 
therefore to be deprived of worship. He may 
bring his turtledoves, or his young pigeons, 
or if he has nothing else, his little portion of 
flour, his wine, his new corn, his cakes fried 
or baked, and if he has not even these, his 
sprinkling of salt. The poorest might wor- 
ship, but he must not come empty in his wor- 
ship. Worship and giving were inseparably 
joined together. 

When the mere}' of God, after the ascen- 



20 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

sion, came to the Geutile world, the very first 
door tlie angel entered was that of Cornelius, 
the Roman soldier, whose prayers and alms 
came up before Grod: "he gave much alms to 
the people." When the poor woman came up 
to the temple to worship, she cast in her two 
mites as a part of her worship. And Paul 
says, "But to do good and to communicate 
forget not ; for with such sacrifices Grod is well 
pleased." Gifts and offerings and worship go 
together. These gifts are an "odor of sweet 
smell, a sacrifice well pleasing to G-od." In 
all our charities and contributions, Paul directs 
that we attend to four points: first, they must 
be acts of worship ; second, at stated times ; 
thirdly, frequent; and fourthly, universal. 
Now see. . " Upon the first day of the w^eek, 
let every one of you lay by him in store, as 
God hath prospered him." 

And this leads me to saj^, that in fact, you 
do not give to Foreign Missions, or to Home 
Missions, or to the Tract cause ; if you do it 
as an act of worship, you give directly to Christ. 
"Inasmuch as ye did it unto the least of these 
my brethren, ye have done it unto me." 



GIVING MADE EASY. 21 

We will now suppose that we all give as 
an act of worship — and that this is the true 
Bible principle I have no doubt — what would 
be the results ? 

It would he very easy to give. 

If we part with our property, not as some- 
thing devoted to Christ, but as something 
wrenched from us to feed or clothe men, and 
something sacrificed to stop the calls of agents ; 
if ""ivino; is somethino: to be endured and 
groaned over, and got rid of as soon as possi- 
ble, we shall always give grudgingly, sparing- 
ly, with no heart, no faith, and no reward. 
There is no place where we enjoy giving so 
much as at the monthly concert of prayer, 
because we there give as an act of worship. 
We give and pray together. 

Then as to frequency. Is not public wor- 
ship easier, pleasanter, more profitable to him 
wdio goes to the house of God weekly and 
statedl}^, than if he went, but once in six 
months?^ If you were to pray in public, would 
it not be easier to pray to Christ than to the 
congregation ? So, if you give to Christ as a 
part of worship, you do not give to men, but 



22 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

to liim directly. It is pleasant to think that 
when we give to Christ, it is just as accepta- 
ble to him as prayer. It will therefore make 
us "cheerful" givers, and " G-od loveth a 
cheerful giver." If I set apart a share of my 
property to him to-day, it matters not to me 
what the next call may be. It may go to 
send a minister to the heathen, or to preach 
to the scattered, feeble, and discouraged little 
flock at home ; or it may send a Bible to some 
destitute family, or a messenger to the hospi- 
tal, it matters little to me. I have given it 
to Christ, and I look to him to direct it and 
use it. The bread cast upon the waters may 
not be found till after many days ; but it went 
into Christ's purse, and whether he sent it to 
the poor or let Judas steal it, I have not the 
responsibility. The poor widow's mite, and 
the ministrations of the women of G-alilee, 
were like worship, acceptable to him. It 
would be pleasant, if like Mary you could 
pour ointment directly on the head of the 
Redeemer ; but it is just as acceptable to him 
if you pour it on the wounded disciple. It 
would be pleasant on the cold, stormy night 



GIVING MADE EASY. 23 

to have Christ come in and share your warmth 
and food and home. Give it to one of his 
brethren, and you give it to Him. It woukl 
be pleasant, my brother minister, for you to 
liarness your horse and carry Him to preach 
to some neo'lected neiG;hborhood. Just as 
acceptable to him if 3'ou will go yourself and 
l)reach to that neighborhood. Your hand, 
Christian, feels stiff and tight ^yhen called 
upon to give to some "cause" or "object" or 
"thing." Why, you need not turn your bul- 
lock into the field to run anywhere ; bring 
him directly up to the altar of God and sacri- 
lice him to the Lord. The poor man need 
not let his turtledoves go out of his hand 
into the open air ; he may bring them to the 
altar where the hyssop will be dipped into 
their blood, and the little creatures will preach 
of the shedding of that blood that will take 
away sin. 

Giving as an act of worship, will also cause 
more to le given to Christ. 

When a call is made in a congregation, it 
is often the case that each man has his favor- 
ite object. "I don't give to Foreign Mis- 



24: HINTS AND THOUGHTS, 

sions," says one. "I give only to Home Mis- 
sions," sajs a second. "I don't give to either, 
I give to the Bible Society," says a third. 
Now, properly speaking, you don't give to 
either. You do n't expect the Bible Society, 
or the Missionary Society to reward you. You 
expect Christ to do it. Then why not give it 
to Hiin directly, and make it an act of solemn 
worship. Besides, if we gave as an act of 
worship, we should be ashamed to deposit 
half a dime, and ask Christ to receive it as an 
act of worship. We should want a larger sum 
to pay over. 

"If I v/as rich and had abundance, I would 
give. I shouldn't feel it." True, and would 
you feel any reward? "But I have but little, 
I am poor." Very well. But it is your duty 
to worship, is it not? ''Let every one of you,''' 
the poor as well as the rich, lay aside, and 
that ''according as Grod hath prospered him; 
for with such sacrifices Grod is well pleased." 
It is as really a sacrifice as if you brought 
your sheep or your bullock, and offered it on 
Grod's altar. You, poor man, are not willing 
that the rich shall receive all the rewards at 



GIVING MADE EASY. 25 

the last day. AVliat crown that a monarch 
ever wore woukl buy the reward of her who 
broke the alabaster box of ointment on the 
head of Jesus, or even the reward of the wid- 
ow who brought her two mites ? I know that 
it would be better for the rich and for their 
children, were they to cast tenfold into the 
treasury of the Lord ; but I want the common 
people and the poor to have the blessing of 
giving, consecrating it by prayer, and making 
every gift an act of worship. When the day 
comes when all the church shall act on this 
principle, when the ten thousand rain-drops 
shall go in and make up little streams, and 
these again make up great rivers, when none 
shall appear before him empty, then will vast- 
1}^ more be given to Christ, and giving will be 
as delightful as any other part of worship. 



26 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

IV. 

Uncle Jerry. 

There are some men wlio seem by general 
consent "elected" to be "uncle" to a wliole 
neighborliood. Why it is that they receive 
this title, is what I do not know. Perhaps 
because they are too old for a younger title, 
and not gentle enough and loving enough to 
be called "father." Be it as it may, old Jere- 
miah Slow was known by the title of " Uncle 
Jerry" as long ago as I can remember. He 
had many traits of character peculiar to him- 
self, as every man has ; but I am to confine 
myself to his moral character. 

Now you must know that "Uncle Jerry" 
lived in a corner of the town, full four and a 
half miles from the centre and from the house 
of worship. For sixty years he had lived in 
the same house, slept in the same room, gone 
to the same church, and sat in the same pew. 
He had a venerable look, honest in appear- 
ance, but a look that was vacant and inexpres- 



UNCLE JEEEY. 27 

sive. He was ^Yllat we call a "clever" man; 
by which wc meau harmless, inoffensive, and 
not efficient enough to run against anybody. 
He was a good neighbor, if a want pressed 
itself upon him; but he never troubled him- 
self to hunt for sorrows, in order to relieve 
them. No man, in the whole congregation, 
was more sure to be in his place on the Sab- 
bath than Uncle Jerry. Be the W'Cathcr what 
it might, let any stay away that chose, he was 
always there. Old Kate, with a long white 
streak in her face, w^as sure to be there, let 
what other horses stand in the stable that 
would. At the very moment the minister en- 
tered the pulpit. Uncle Jerry entered his pew. 
So he had done for more than half a century, 
being able to count over twenty-one different 
preachers wdio had come and gone, while he 
stuck by the church. He often boasted that 
he had travelled more miles in going to and 
from the church, than would be necessary to 
carry him round the world. And yet Uncle 
Jerry was not a religious man. He lived and 
died, so far as we know, without any religious 
feeling or concern. He seemed to go to church 



28 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

out of habit, and knew every man who was 
present or absent, every stranger who hap- 
pened in, where he belonged, and to whom 
he was related. Uncle Jerry had no sympathy 
with contributions and collections, and seemed 
to feel that all who meddled with such things 
were a kind of spiritual leech, to suck the very 
blood out of the simple. So he lived — not 
having an enemy in the world — all calling him 
"Uncle Jerry," and none feeling his loss at 
death, except that it seemed awkward, at first, 
to see his pew empty. 

And I have been trying to discover how it 
was that a man could be and do as Uncle 
Jerry did — attend church so constantly, hear 
so many sermons, hear ministers of talents and 
powers so unlike, hear so many of the songs 
of Zion, and hear so many prayers — and yet 
never manifest any interest in personal relig- 
ion ; and I have come to the following results : 

1. He had little to excite him to think. 
He lived away in a corner. If there were 
brilliant lectures, sacred concerts, exciting 
meetings of any kind, he was not there. If 
the bell tolled for a great man, and the com- 



UNCLE JERRY. 29 

munity came .together, and great and feeling 
tributes were paid to the dead, and their deeds 
recounted, he was not there. If a revival ot 
religion was powerful in the town — as it was 
many times during his life — he was at none of 
the meetings. He heard only of a "religious 
stir," but it never stirred him. Now we know 
that activity of mind is an important element 
in the salvation of the soul. Take our colleges 
as an example of what I mean, and you find 
that there is no class of young men in society 
in which so many become Christians, in pro- 
portion to their numbers. One reason plainly 
is, their minds are awake and excited, and 
hence the truth and the Spirit of God have 
materials upon which and with which to work. 
Uncle Jerry jogged on in the same beaten 
track, without ever having the mind startled 
or quickened. It moved, like the great stone 
wheel of his cider-mill, in the same groove. 

2. He had no religious reading. The dif- 
ference between the mind that reads and is 
fed, and one that does not, is amazing. But 
on Uncle Jeny's table no new books ever 
made their appearance. No new magazines 



80 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

unfolded their attractions. He bought the 
"Farmer's Almanac" once a year, and stud- 
ied the signs of the Zodiac, and saw when 
the storms and cold were predicted to come, 
and that was all. He never took a religious 
newspaper — I mean a weekly religious paper ! 
I have certain weaknesses, doubtless — and you 
may call this one — but I have the strong belief 
that while, to many, the religious paper is of 
little value, to such as Uncle Jerry it is a 
means of grace. Suppose he had had the 
large clear-typed religious journal come to 
him weekly, and he had read it aloud in his 
family, and had talked over the news of the 
state of the church coming from all lands, 
the communications from many of the most 
gifted minds, extracts from the most impor- 
tant books, biographies of the most devoted 
men, the labors of the most faithful servants 
of Christ, the results of yerj careful obser- 
vation on all points pertaining to humanity, 
would he not have been a very different man ; 
had a mind more alive and awake, and his 
sympathies with his race called out and 
warmed? Would not the Holy Spirit have 



UNCLE JERRY. 31 

found his susceptibilities more awake, and his 
heart a much larger one? As it was, he read 
nothing, sa've now and then a mumbling over 
a chapter in his Bible. He thought next to 
none, and then only with ver}' feeble thought. 
I am not at all sure that it might not be written 
of him. This man lost his soul for the want of a 
weekly religious paper / The next consequence 
was sure to follow, namely, that he never went 
to church expecting to become a religious man. 
He never united with the church, and he 
never expected to. He never had family 
worship, and he never expected to. He was 
never interested in a revival, and he never 
expected to be. He connected this life with 
the next b}-^ no definite thought, or plans, or 
actions. 

Now there are hundreds of families who 
live on the borders and in the corners of our 
towns, who are living just as Uncle Jerry 
did, only they don't go to church as he did. 
Many of them can't go ; most don't try. They 
want something to excite and move their 
thoughts. They will come out to a "school- 
house meeting" now and then, but they want 



32 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

something to keep their thoughts from mud- 
dling. And T give it as the result of an anx- 
ious experience and observation, that no one 
thing, short of conversion to God, would be so 
great a blessing to people who live in retired 
parts of a country town, as to take and read a 
weeJdy 7'eligious paper. 



A STING, AND ITS CURE. 33 

V. 

h ISting, and its Cure. 

Most of my readers know that within a 
few years, at great trouble and expense, our 
apiarians have introduced the "Italian bee" 
among us. It is said that the first queen bee 
imported cost three hundred dollars. It is 
claimed that they are hardier and more indus- 
trious, will work earlier and later, will defend 
their home, and withal, are not so irascible 
as the common bee. To much of this, as well 
as to their beauty, I can subscribe. But to 
the last commendation, their gentleness and 
suavity, I cannot assent. I have had too 
much evidence of their quick pugnacity to 
concur. 

But I took up my pen to speak of another 
buzzing, darting, and stinging insect, which 
seems to have the hardiness and fierceness of 
the white-faced hornet, and the quick sting of 
the Italian. It is known by different names, 
as "Gossip," "Slander," "Backbiting," etc. 

2* 



34 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

It seems to frequent all houses, and is at hoiuo 
alike in tlie liovel and in the saloon of the 
rich. Who does not fear it? And who has 
not been stung by it ? We all complain of it, 
fear it, and yet are careful to gather the eggs, 
and hatch them at our own firesides. Per- 
haps my reader can recall the times when he 
has smarted under its infliction. 

Without the figure, let us look a moment 
at the causes of so much evil-speaking, gossip, 
or slander, even in Christian communities. 

1. It is easier to talk about people and 
the people around us, than about any thing 
else. Let two neighbors meet, what can they 
talk about easily ? They are not read in his- 
tory, they have no science to discuss, they 
are not posted up in politics, they have not 
any great questions of commerce to discuss, 
and the world, out of their own circle, is 
almost unknown. But they do know who are 
moving, who are making new purchases, and 
what is going on around them. They see 
every movement on the checker-board before 
them. If Mr. A has been cheated in a horse, 
if Mr. B has bought a very poor cow, if Mr. 



A STING, AND ITS CUBE. 35 

C has been very hasty in a bargain, if Mrs. 
D has a new dress that is "extravagant," or 
"awfully homely," if young E is becoming 
rowclyish, and young F has been sent home 
from college, and if Mrs. G-'s "help" has left 
her in "dudgeon," everybody knows it. And 
why should not everybody talk about these 
things ? It 's the easiest way to get up a con- 
versation. It is not of course malice, nor is 
it intended to be "meddling," but it's taking 
the readiest way to talk about something which 
all can talk about. What a dry world it would 
be if all such wells were closed up. And 
why should we grudge others the privilege 
which we claim for ourselves? Let them talk, 
and remember they cayiH talk about any thing 
else. 

2. There is a little of the crab in us all, 
so that we do not swim exactly straightfor- 
ward. In other words, every man has his 
own weak spot, and there is the shadoAv of 
the ludicrous falling upon us all. So that 
there is hardly a man in the circle of your 
acquaintance, concerning whom you may not 
tell something that borders on the ludicrous, 



36 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

especially if you have a certain knack of set- 
ting it off. These weaknesses are common 
property, and are sure to be held up again 
and again. We do so. Others do so. And 
we must expect it to be so concerning our- 
selves as long as we live ; and even after men 
are dead and buried, these remain, the only 
immortality on earth which many have. By 
repetition and accretions, and little embellish- 
ments, a small mistake or a small weakness 
becomes a great affair. I have often heard 
facts stated about myself, which I have found 
very difficult to identify with any thing in my 
own experience. Do n't others find it so ? 

3. There is also in the human heart, even 
the best of hearts, something of jealousy or 
envy left, and though we would not "for the 
world " injure the good name of our neighbor, 
yet we, unconsciously to ourselves, find it dif- 
ficult not to let the weak points of others be 
known. We may think it is all in pure good 
will, or that we are only paying back what 
we receive, or it may be we don't stop to 
analyze our motives ; but the fact is certain, 
much of the evil-speaking or gossip, grows 



A STING, AND ITS CURE. 37 

out of envy or jealousy. I am inclined to 
think that people are seldom conscious of this 
cause. But the feeling is human, that if we 
can " level down," we shall do the same thing 
as if we had elevated ourselves. If Mr. P 
or Mrs. R have such and such weaknesses or 
imperfections, what is it but proving that we 
are as good or better than they? If young 
S, who is to marry Miss Jones next week, is 
so and so, and we shake our heads gravely, 
and "hope it will turn out for the best," what 
is it but saying that we should never let our 
daughters run such awful risks ? 

Shall I now as briefly mention how we 
can do much to cure this evil, and thus pre- 
vent a great amount of hard feeling and ill- 
blood ? 

Remember that it takes two to slander or 
gossip — one to speak, and at least one to hear. 
People often congratulate themselves that they 
never spread the report, and they never said 
the hard things or made the insinuations, j 
when they sat and with greedy ears drank it 
all in and enjoyed it, and the speaker and 
retailer knew they enjoyed it, notwithstand- 



38 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

iug the feeble "I hope it's not so," or, "I 
can hardly believe it," which they may utter. 
If none were encouraged by good hearers, all 
this would be done away. Bear in mind then, 
that the hearer of slander may often be more 
guilty than the utterer, seldom less so. If 
you want to cure the evil, guard your ears as 
well as your lips. 

Set a guard at the door of your lips. When 
you cross the threshold of your neighbor's 
door, when you sit down at your own table, 
make the solemn resolution that you will say 
nothing about the absent, which you would 
not be willing to have them hear. It is no 
less needful at home at the family meal, where 
a severe or a sour or an envious spirit is 
often created and nurtured, thoughtlessly no 
doubt in very many cases, but none the less 
injurious for that. Happy that family where 
the table is the place of pleasant, instructive, 
and social intercourse, without the drawback 
of severity or the alloy of bitterness. 

Resolve that whenever you hear any ill 
spoken of any one, you will say something 
good about him; there is no one concerning 



A STING, AND ITS CUBE. 39 

whom you cannot honestly do this, if you try. 
This habit — and I have known such as never 
did otherwise — will sweeten your own spirit 
and that of the company. It is like the proph- 
et's casting the branch into the bitter waters. 
It is bringing the brazen serpent at once, as 
soon as the serpents begin to bite. Make it 
a matter of conscience to see what arc the 
teachings of the Bible in regard to the tongue ; 
and see how much danger it carries, what 
wounds it can inflict, what flames it can kin- 
dle, what evils it can create, what miseries it 
can entail. Make it also a matter of earnest 
prayer, that you may set a guard at the door 
of your lips, and become a perfect man, be- 
cause you offend not with your tongue. 

What shall you do when slandered? Bear 
it in silence. Don't run about to deny or to 
explain. If the reports are in any measure 
true, reform, and make them untrue hereafter. 
Tins is a kind of bee that you cannot fight. 
You must be quiet and let it have its buzz, 
and it may be, sting. But suppose there is 
not a word of truth in it ? So much the bet- 
ter. It will be very easy to live it down in 



40 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

that case. Eemember that a falsehood wont 
hurt you. It is what we Jo, and not what 
people say we do, that hurts us. So long as 
reports are not founded in truth, they do lit- 
tle hurt. They have no sting. Never be 
worried at any thing which you have not ac- 
tually done. A great truth that. 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 41 

VI. 

Home Missions at Home. 

One of the most difficult problems which a 
pastor has to ponder over is, how to carry the 
gospel to that part of our population who at- 
tend no church. The uniform testimony is. 
that only from one-third to one-half of the 
jieople attend upon the services of the sanc- 
tuary. I may have ray church crowded, and 
every seat in it taken, and yet leave a great 
mass outside who have no Sabbath home, and 
no i)lace of public worship. We have two 
classes of these : first, those who live away 
from the centre of the town or ^village ; and 
secondly, the foreign population. These are 
usually gathered into families, and parents 
and children are alike neglected. For the 
last few years there have been anxious in- 
quiries, "What shall we do to carry the gos- 
pel to the destitute among ourselves?" The 
question is not, Are they necessarily destitute? 
we must accept the fact. That my brethren 



42 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

iu the ministry very extensively and deeply 
feel this, I have evidence enough from numer- 
ous letters I have received on the subject, 
and from public documents. May I therefore 
venture to throw out a few hints to my minis- 
terial brethren, and to their churches ? I will 
try to do it in such a way that no one will feel 
the power of censure. 

Many towns were laid out when it was 
thought that it would require a great deal of 
land to support a few families. I have been 
told that in olden times a committee from the 
legislature, having gone over and viewed a 
territory, reported that they thought the 
"said territory" might, at furthest, support 
^^ thirty families." There are now nearly or 
quite forty thousand on "the said territory," 
and room enough for more. A town, we will 
suppose, is six miles square. This takes the 
outer line of boundar}^ three, and the corners 
four miles from the centre. The ark and the 
sanctuary are in the centre, and the light from 
the golden candlestick reaches about two miles 
from the centre : that is, all within a radius of 
two miles are most likely to go to public wor- 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 43 

ship. Then beyond that is the third mile — a 
territ(3iy into which those who have less 
means, or energy, or ambition, the discour- 
aged and the peculiar, flow and settle. They, 
for some reason or other, have not the energy 
or tlie means to keep up with the rest of the 
town. New buildings and new paint and 
marks of thrift are not abundant. The popu- 
lation settles down, and this generation is 
much like the preceding. Then on the bor- 
ders of the next town is a similar belt and a 
similar population, making a belt of two miles 
in width around every town, where the power 
of the gospel cannot well penetrate. It is 
here, awaj" from the eyes of the multitude, 
the Evil One tempts the men to roam the 
fields, to iish in the streams ; and the women 
and children to dress up somewhat, and talk, 
or to spend the Sabbath in reading a very lit- 
tle and sleeping much. But comparatively few 
from these belts wait on God in his sanctuar}- ; 
and it is in these belts that we find the great 
numbers who do not attend church. 

Then again, we have a large foreign popu- 
lation, chietly in factories, who have few sjm- 



44 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

patliies with us, and have little to do with our 
Sabbath privileges. What our duties to this 
class are, I do not propose to speak of in this 
place. I shall confine myself to our native 
population. How shall we give the gospel to 
those who do not voluntarily come to the 
house of Grod? To that point I wish to 
speak. 

For more than thirty years of country 
pastorship I have given my thoughts and 
anxieties to this question, and have made not 
a few experiments. 

Knowing the want of reading, I have tried 
many ways of reaching them through the 
press. One jear I procured and had sold 
three hundred Christian Almanacs in as many 
different families. The next year, more still. 
For years I went into the monthly tract dis- 
tribution, and saw that every family in town 
willing to receive one, should have it monthly. 
In a time of revival I had eight hundred of 
"Baxter's Call to the Unconverted" distrib- 
uted in a single week. Another week I had 
eight hundred of " Edwards' Sabbath Man- 
ual" distributed into as many families. Then 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 45 

I have tried religious papers, weekly or 
monthly. It may be true, and probably is 
true, that there were results, great and many, 
from all these efforts, which will not be known 
till the last great day. But so far as I kncv/ 
them, they fell far short of my hopes ; and 
these experiments were made during a long 
number of years, and in different towns. 

One can see that if we could get this popu- 
lation to come to the centre and attend pub- 
lic worship, our end would be better accom- 
|)lished. And why can we not do that ? 

Because, first, most of these families are 
not religiously trained. They have not the 
Christian conscience. You have no capital to 
trade with. Then many, very many, really 
can't get to the meeting in the centre. I 
speak especially of women and children. If 
the father of a family cannot or will not pro- 
vide a team and drive it, what can his family 
do ? You may say that if a silver dollar were 
to be placed in the pew of each one every 
time he went to the house of God, they would 
all be there. So they would; but the argu- 
ment is hardly a fair one, inasmuch as they 



46 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

may well reply, " Give us the dollar, and we 
could tlien have the meaus to be carried to 
the church." You may say that very many 
more might go than now do. That is also 
true ; but very many really can't go. They arc 
aged, they are feeble, they are females, or 
they are children. Sometimes, here and there, 
a family lives in this belt who do and will get 
out, and are true and faithful at church ; and 
very precious people they are. But are they 
not the exceptions ? In the snowy, stormy 
regions, all the winter they are shut up ; and 
even in the heat of summer, I have often seen 
and pitied females walking three or four miles 
to and from church. 

The more you become personally acquaint- 
ed with the people in these outer districts, the 
more will your sympathies be drawn out tow- 
ards them, the more you will feel that they 
have many real excuses which you have never 
thought of. They are not called together often 
enough to draw out and cultivate the social 
principle ; they have no occasions to arouse 
and move them ; they have not the taste and 
the cultivation to enable them to draw from 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 47 

books ; tlicy arc in a slow world by tliein- 
selves. They are usually kind, inoffensive, 
simple people ; tliej^ do n't feel a positive re- 
pugnance to the gospel, for they don't come 
in contact with it so as to feel the pricking of 
the sword. They are just what you and I 
would be, brought up as they were, and living 
where they do. I have seldom received the 
least insult from one of them. But they are 
there, without being reached by the gospel: 
how shall we reach them? In my next I 
shall touch the middle of the question. 



48 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

VII. 

fioME Missions at Home. 

He who studies the human heart and labors 
to do it good, grows more and more deeply 
impressed with the wisdom of God in using 
the human voice as the great instrument of 
doing his work. An angel would make a poor 
preacher, because his heart and ours could 
not be brought into sympathy. The sympathy 
of the heart is the great human instrument of 
doing good. Hence a warm, blundering man 
will often make more friends and influence 
men far more, than a cold, correct man, with 
double his talents. 

There are, to my mind, but two hopeful 
methods of adequately reaching the outskirts 
of our towns. These are by the ministry, and 
by the church-members. To explain what I 
mean, I give our method — not claiming that it 
is the wisest or the best, but as the best we 
have found. There is no difficulty in estab- 
lishhing meetings all over a town in a sea- 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 49 

son of revival. But we want something that 
shall be constantly and uniformly acting on 
tlie population. In such times too, there is 
no diflieulty in getting the "brethren" to go 
out and attend prayer-meetings. The diffi- 
culty is, they soon stop. The experience of 
my life leads me to say, I have never known 
any meeting to be maintained from year to 
year, zmless the jninister ivas in the habit of 
heiny present. 

We have in this town twelve district 
school-houses, each of which is more than a 
mile from the centre, and where the people 
want religious meetings — especially preach- 
ing. We have four ministers, of three denom- 
inations,, who cheerfully unite in this work. 
Every Tuesday evening there are four meet- 
ings and sermons in the outer parts of the 
town. We follow each other, going round 
with the sun, regularly. The man who 
})reache6 in the east school-house to-night, 
knows he is to go to the next south of that 
next week. This gives each district a sermon 
once in three weeks. Then we preach a lec- 
ture in the centre on Wednesday evening, and 



50 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

attend our prayer-meetiDg oe Friday evening. 
In this way we give all parts of tlie town an 
opportunity to hear the gospel. Every week 
we form some new acquaintance among them. 
Every week we gain a little in the confidence 
and love of the community, and every week 
the people feel more and more that they are 
not outsiders. I do not believe a single word 
has been dropped by any minister, on these 
occasions, by which you would know to what 
denomination he belonged. 

My brethren will say that this is a heavy 
burden to lay upon them, in addition to all 
that they now have to do. I allow it. And 
yet, if they do n't do it, nobody will, and we 
shall go on mourning that so many of the peo- 
ple neglect the house of G-od. There are two 
ways of lightening this burden, and at the 
same time increasing the efficiency of the 
meetings. Suppose the pastor has to go forty 
times a year to these preaching places. Let 
him select, say ten of his best men, Christian 
men, and who have Christian horses, and ask 
them to agree to go and carry him to these 
meetings, each in his turn. It will be one a 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 61 

month. This is a very imjwrtant j^oint. First, 
the pastor has a good visit with his friend, in 
going and coming. Secondly, it greatly en- 
courages the people in the school-house to 
see a layman with the pastor. They feel that 
one more heart sympathizes with them. And 
thirdly, it does much to save the life of the 
minister. I have caught more terrible colds 
after having preached in the heated school- 
house, and then having to drive home, than in 
any other way. After speaking in the even- 
ing, it is not ver}^ safe to ride some three or 
four miles ; and especially not, unless you can 
wrap up warm. I fear my brethren often suf- 
fer so much in this way, that they dread the 
very thought of the exposure. The kind 
friend, who does not have to preach, is com- 
paratively safe. I have found my young mcL 
very cheerful and ready to go with me thus 
And I presume every church would furnist 
all that are needed. 

Another point. I have often gone to a 
school-house, off at a distance, and found that 
we could have no singing, because we had no 
hymn-books. Perhaps there would be one 



62 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

book, Methodist, or Baptist, or Coiigrcgation- 
alist in its origin. And we can't contrive to 
sing with one book ; and a meeting without 
singing is ruined. If the people can't take 
part enough in it to sing, it is a dead set, and 
the meeting is apt to be lost. To remedy this, 
I procured a beautiful black- walnut box which 
will just hold fifteen of the "Songs of Zion," 
a little book of hymns and music, published 
by the American Tract Society. I find this 
number sufficient. Having a handle to my 
box, it is very portable. In the beginning of 
the meeting I distribute the books, and at its 
close have them handed back — to be used the 
next week somewhere else. ■ The preaching 
should be very plain, clear, simple, and warm. 
You must talk with the same confidence and 
love you would in j'^our family, and you will 
gain and carry their sympathies. 

But the second thing needed is, as many 
Sabbath-schools in these districts as you can 
possibly attend to. They are appendages to 
the central school. They are shoots of the 
same tree. We have more in number in these 
mission schools than we have in the centre of 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 53 

the town. I think ahnost any church conld 
readily double the number of her pui)ils. 
Every district Avould furnish more than attend 
the day school. The difficulty is not to find 
scholars, but teachers. To each mission school 
there should be a superintendent; and gen- 
erally he had better be from the centre. 
Some of these would need an infant class. 
Beautiful gems are these schools, for a church 
to wear as an ornament to her neck. 

Were I to attempt to mark out a plan by 
which to reach the destitute among us, I 
would have, 

1. A meeting statedly, as often as the min- 
isters could attend them, in every school- 
house that is, over a mile or a mile and a half 
from the centre. 

2. These meetings not to be more seldom 
than once in three weeks. 

3. I would have some good Christian 
brother always take the pastor; and if he is 
a singer, so much the better. 

4. I would have a Sabbath-school estab- 
lished in every such district. Why is it not 
as much needed as the day school? 



64 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

5. I would have a good book-caee in each 
school-lionse, under a strong lock and key. 
The book-case should contain a library suffi- 
cient for the population, children and adults, 
and also hymn-books enough, so that parents 
and children could learn to sing. I believe I 
have never failed to have singing in such a 
meeting when we had books. 

Such is as near the plan I want as I can 
describe, with one very important addition: 
/ loould have the active Christians of the several 
churches unite, and once a year visit every family 
in the town, and talk kindly about their souls, 
and where not forbidden, pray with and for 
them. The good that may be done in this 
way is incalculable. Had I room I should 
love to narrate some of our experience in this 
line of labor. It is like pouring the water of 
life over a whole community. 

Some have said that if you carry these 
meetings to these outer places, it will satisfy 
them, so that they will never want to come to 
church on Sabbath. My own experier.ce does 
not teach me so. My Sabbath congregations 
are never so full as when I am laboring most 



HOME MISSIONS AT HOME. 55 

for the remoter parts of the town. Giving 
them a little bread does not make them satis- 
fied with that little. 

It has been said, It will do no good ; these 
labors do not result in the conversion of 
sonls, at least not often. I reply, Suppose it 
be so ; suppose you go and preach thus year 
after year, and not a soul is converted ; the 
fact that you have offered them salvation is abun- 
dant compensation. Having done this truly, 
kindly, and faithfully, jow. have discharged 
3^our duty, and will receive your reward. 

It will do no good to say, and keep saj-- 
ing, "We must do something for our destitute 
population." Here is a plan which you can 
try, and drop it the moment jow. devise a 
better one. But do something : do it, do it. 

It will do no good to exhort your church 
"rouse up;" here is something definite for 
them to do. Will they do it? If they will, 
they will grow warm hj the exercise. If they 
will not, how much of vitality have they? 

While we rejoice over the sheep in the 
fold, let us also think much about those scat- 
tered on the mountains. 



56 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

VIII. 

puP^ f 



RIENDS. 



In one of the volumes of Walter Scott's 
writings, he represents a Highland chief on 
trial for his life for treason. It was most 
manifest that he had staked his all upon the 
throw, and must now lose his head. Just be- 
fore receiving his sentence, one of his clan — 
the clan of Mclvor — rises up and urges that 
he and other poor fellows may be put to death, 
and their young chieftain spared. And from 
what we know of the strong attachment of 
these once wild clans, we have no doubt that 
a dozen would have been ready to die for the 
natural head of the clan. On the other hand, 
the love of the chief to his clan was hardly 
less. He would impoverish himself, and di- 
vide his last loaf of barley bread with his fol- 
lowers, and even lay down his life for them. 

The human heart wants some one to sym- 
pathize with, to counsel with, and to confide 
in and love. A dog can meet but a part of 



OUR FRIENDS. 67 

these wants ; but even lie makes himself be- 
loved. We want to give and to receive. This 
is called "having a /nbzc?/" and when found, 
the heart has found a treasure. 

Lord Bacon says that the friendships in 
the world are very few. Acquaintances are 
made and forgotten all the way through life, 
and many go through life without any thing 
more, without ever knowing the high and 
beautiful and almost sacred meaning of the 
word friend. In the early and rude states of 
society, when strength of body, or fleetness of 
foot, or animal courage, is the standard of 
manhood, the one who can protect the feeble, 
defend the weak, and command the wavering, 
is the national leader. These qualities are 
accepted as friendship. The weak one loves 
the strong because he can defend him ; and 
by an organic law of our nature, the strong 
one loves those whom he protects. 

So strong is the yearning of the human 
heart for a true friend — one in whom you can 
confide, who can sympathize with 3'ou, to 
whom 3'ou can reveal the secrets and the 
weaknesses of the heart, who will betray 

3* 



58 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

nothing because he loves you, who will sym- 
pathize with all your secret troubles — that the 
highest stations of earth will not exempt men 
from the craving. Kings and emperors, queens 
and empresses want such a friend ; and it is a 
curious fact that the deepest, purest, warmest 
friendship is often between men in all respects 
very unequal. Indeed warm friends are very 
seldom equals ; kings do not select kings for 
their friends. When Jonathan, heir to a 
crown, wants a friend, he does not seek him 
among the princes, but finds him in David, 
the stripling son of a shepherd. Their friend- 
ship was a model : Jonathan would strip him- 
self of his kingdom for his friend, and yet 
David loved him the most and wept the lon- 
gest as they separated, never more on earth to 
renew their friendship. When David comes 
to the throne he wants a friend, but he does 
not select a king, nor Ahithophel, the wisest 
man of his generation ; but Hushai, the friend 
that ventured his life for him, and whose 
friendship never waned nor abated. Even 
Solomon — the wise, the great, the rich, and 
the splendid — needs a friend. He selects no 



OUR FRIENDS. 69 

monarch ; but takes Zabucl the son of Nathan 
as his bosom-friend. Alexander had the same 
yearning of heart; but among all his brave 
generals he finds none : it is Parmenio whom 
he admits to his bosom. The fact that thou- 
sands have been deceived by having the chosen 
friend prove false, docs not in the least pre- 
vent our seeking for friends. It is remarkable 
that Paul, one of the most unselfish hearts, 
and one who lived as far above the ordinary 
wants of humanity as any one ever did live, 
felt this same need, and selected Timothy, 
"none other like-minded," "his own son in 
the faith," as his friend. And it is affecting 
to hear him calling for this friend to come unto 
him during his last imprisonment at Pome. 
" The time of my departure is at hand." "Do 
thy diligence to come unto me." We have 
often wondered whether Timothy did reach 
him before he was " offered," and hear his last 
counsels, and witness his last devotions. And 
it is still more remarkable that our Saviour, 
instead of living in the solitude of his own in- 
finite nature, had his human sympathies in 
such activity that he selected John, the most 



CO HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

amiable of all his disciples, to be his bosom- 
friend. 

When I say that the human heart yearns 
for some one true friend, I do not by any 
means intend to affirm that every one has 
found that friend. Some, having been deceiv- 
ed or forgotten by those whom they loved, go 
through life friendly to all, with kind words 
to all, yet keeping the chambers of the heart 
empty, not finding any guest whom they wa^it 
to install there. And as civilization advances, 
and as artificial manners increase, the instances 
of real heart friendships will, I fear, be fewer 
and rarer. Such a state of society keeps those 
who are equals together, and compels them 
to associate together ; whereas the strongest 
friend you will ever find will be greatly jour 
superior or your inferior. These inequalities 
may be inequalities of talents, of education, 
position, or wealth, or any thing else. Daniel 
Webster and John Trout were warm friends. 
The strong, bullying school-boy will often take 
to some feeble, puny fellow, and they become 
fast friends. The nobleman, from his position 
shut away from friends, makes his valet his 



OUR FRIENDS. 61 

friend ; and a king has been known to do this 
of his barber. 

The offices of a friend are among the most 
difficult that we can be called upon to per- 
form. You want a friend for sympathy, and 
he must therefore have a warm heart; you 
want him for advice, and he must therefore 
have a sound judgment; j^ou want him to 
know what to all others are unknown — the 
very secrets of j^our heart ; you want him to 
bear with your weaknesses without being dis- 
gusted, with your moods and nervousness 
without being offended or wearied. He must 
have courage and conscience, or else he will 
not hel}) you to amend your faults and sup- 
press your infirmities ; he must have a deep 
watchfulness, or else he will not cheer you 
when you need, and commend you when you 
do well ; he must have skill to encourage you 
when you waver or grow weak, keep you from 
acting on impulses, and the manliness to de- 
fend you, as far as is right, when assailed, or, 
to excuse you where he may not defend. Sol- 
omon describes such a one in few w^ords: "A 
friend lovcth at all times" — when we are in 



62 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

prosperity, and when we are in adversity; 
when we are admired, and when we are scorn- 
ed ; when we are courted, and when neglected ; 
when in riches, and when in poverty ; in joy, 
or in sorrow ; elated or depressed ; agreeable 
or dyspeptic ; for sometimes the tides and the 
winds will all be in jonr favor, and sometimes 
they will set against you. He " loveth at all 
times." We fear not many would meet this 
definition. "A brother is born for adversity," 
but ' ' there is a friend who sticketh closer than 
a brother ;" that is, in the hour of our troubles 
we naturally turn to our relations, our blood 
relations, and yet there is such a thing as "a 
friend" who will do more for us than our own 
relations. How many young men in setting 
out in life, how many amid the changes and 
troubles of life, turn to the friend for assistance 
and relief rather than to relatives. When Job 
was. in his deepest sorrows his own relatives 
all forsook him, and it was his three friends 
who came to comfort him. 



WHY WE LOSE OUR FRIENDS. 03 

IX. 

Why We Lose Our Friends. 

One of the most sad things in our earthly 
experience is, that we must lose friends. We 
seldom make a friend through our design and 
planning, but we ariS thrown into the society 
of this and that one, and there is something 
between us that draws us together. For the 
want of a better name, we call this sympathy. 
We hardly know how or why we are drawn 
together, and it is sometimes a long time be- 
fore we know where the line between acquaint- 
ance and friendship lies. It is not necessary 
that our friend be of the same age, of the 
same temperament, or the same any thing. 
His traits of character may be the very oppo- 
site of ours. We need make no special effort 
to make friends, but ratJier to keep them when 
made. 

We lose our friends in four different waj^s. 

First, by death. Few mourners are more 
sincere than those who mourn the death of a 



64 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

true friend. The most beautiful elegy in human 
language was over a friend, David's lament 
over Jonathan. As we advance in life, one 
and another drop away, and if not careful, 
we shall be left like the heath in the desert 
when the waters are dried up. 

Secondly, we lose them by separation. For 
a time we are near them, and see them often, 
and converse with them, or we write them 
often. But new cares and duties, labors and 
anxieties crowd in upon us, new relations are 
formed, and new scenes open upon us. We 
determine to retain our friends, but our time 
is occupied, and gradually and almost inevita- 
bly our friends fade from our memories, not 
wholly, but certainly. A few years makes 
the beautiful writing which they placed on our 
heart very faint. We regret it, and are asham- 
ed of it, and mourn over it ; but if the pros- 
pect is that we shall never live near them 
again, we despair of recovering what we have 
lost. How different we feel about retaining 
the friendship of one who has gone to Europe 
for a few months, from what we feel if Ave 
know he never expects to return ? 



WHY WE LOSE OUR FRIENDS. 65 

Thirdly, we lose our friends by forming 
new ties. This is especially true of woman 
when she comes into the married relation. 
The young wife takes her pen to write to her 
"dear Lavinia," but she at once feels that 
they have now very little in common. She 
feels that it would be almost sacrilege to allow 
any one to live between her and her husband. 
But this is not precisely what I mean. I mean 
that the new ties between husband and wife 
bring so many new duties and responsibilities, 
and so many delightful hopes and promises, 
that the heart naturally gathers around these, 
and shuts out all others. And the young hus- 
band and wife will permit me to drop an im- 
portant remark ; and that is, that as the mar- 
riage relation so commonly and so necessarily 
cuts away all other ties and confidences, and 
gives the heart and the soul no counsellor but 
the life companion, how important that they 
be fitted for each other — that the wife should 
be qualified b}^ disposition, education, and 
training, to take the place of all other friends, 
and be qualified to be a sympathizer, an ad- 
viser, and an assistant, so that by her judg- 



66 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

ment she can counsel, hy lier courage sustain, 
by her gentleness soften, and by her unselfish 
affection cheer and comfort. It is the man 
who is to nieet the storms of life, and manage 
and do all the rough labors of earth, and who 
will be thwarted and troubled by the strong 
swimmers whom he will encounter; and he 
needs a friend. If he finds it in his wife, he 
may never tell of his obligations to her, but 
he will be successful. If he finds it not, he 
will go through life shut up in his own icy 
heart, an Iceland without its grandeur. 

Fourthly, we lose our friends by our own 
ingratitude. Can you not recall the man 
who has greatly befriended you in days that 
are gone by, who assisted you to what you 
needed and when you needed ? But a sense 
of obligation is painful. The hardest thing 
for the human heart to do is to be grateful, 
and the next hardest thing perhaps, is to be 
willing to acknowledge obligation and mani- 
fest gratitude. Hence, many friends have been 
dropped, in order to escape a sense of obliga- 
tion. On the other hand, the heart is some- 
times so chilled by this want of gratitude, so 



WHY WE LOSE OUR FRIENDS. 07 

grieved to see it a burdcu, that it drops what 
it called a friend. The* fact that we do meet 
with ingratitude where we had hoped to find 
love and confidence, is unquestionable. We 
are disappointed and chilled, and think we 
shall hardly try again to manifest kindness. 
The story of the cuckoo exactly illustrates 
what we have too often witnessed in our own 
observation : 



"The spring was come, and the nest was made, 
And the little bird all her eggs had laid, 
WTien a cuckoo came to the door to beg 
She would kindly adopt another egg ; 
For I have not leisure, upon my word, 
To attend to such things, said the roviug bird. 
There was hardly room for them all in the nest, 
But the egg was admitted along with the rest ; 
And the foster-buxls played their part so well, 
That soon the young cuckoo had chipped the shell : 
For the silly birds, they could not see 
That their foster-chick their plague would be ; 
But so big and saucy the cuckoo grew. 
That no peace at last in the nest they knew : 
He pecked and he hustled the old birds about ; 
And as for the young ones, he jostled them out, 
Till at length they summoned their friends to their aid. 
Wren, robin, and sparrow, not one delaj-ed. 
And joining together, neighbor with neighbor, 
They di"Ove out the cuckoo with infinite labor. 
But the cuckoo was fledged, and laughed to see 
How they vainly traced him from tree to tree : 
They had nursed him so well, he was grown tho stronger, 
And now he needed their help no longer." 



68 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Moral, to our purpose : 

"Give no place, or power, or trust to one 
"WTio will make an ill use of what he has won ; 
For when you have reared the cuckoo-guest, 
'T will be hard to drive him out of the nest ; 
And harder still, when away he 's flown, 
To hunt down the cuckoo, now fuUy gro-mi." 

Among the frequent and beautiful mj'ste- 
ries which we meet in the Bible, is this yearn- 
ing of the soul after something which we call 
friend. It is the soul feeling after something 
without herself. We can't call it a mark of 
human weakness, because it is something which 
the Son of God himself felt. "All ja will 
forsake me this night, and leave me alone ; 
and yet I am not alone, for the Father is with 
me." Can no nature be so exalted that it 
will not need some one to love, and by him 
be loved again? Is this a reason why the 
archangel loves to minister to the feeblest 
child of the dust, and why the angels carried 
the spirit of Lazarus to Abraham's bosom, and 
\why the angels of little children are spoken 
of as being in the presence of God, that is, all 
created beings in heaven love even the little 
child in its feebleness ? 



WHY WE LOSE OUR FRIENDS. 69 

And what is more wonderful still, the infi- 
nite God himself manifests this same yearning 
of the heart. Three times he calls Abraham 
his "friend." More than once Christ calls his 
disciples "friends;" and does not this feeling, 
which probably runs through all creation, and 
which exists in the Godhead, enter into the 
great fact that God loved and redeemed this 
world ? Does it not lie at 'the foundation of 
all that holds societ}^ together ? It is as old 
as time, and probably as old as eternity. It 
is deeper even than the marriage relation. It 
was this that brought the Son of God from 
the bosom of the Father, that he might make 
and raise up friends whom he could love, and 
who would eternally love him. 

We can't understand this, because we can't 
love two friends alike, and equally. Our na- 
tures are too limited. Not so with God. He 
can love uncounted friends ; and thus, out of 
all ages and nations and languages, he can 
gather friends, "a multitude which no man 
QiA\ number." They will all be friends. And 
how beautifully does the gospel give us a 
friend to love, the Bridegroom of the heart, 



70 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

who lias loved us, and does love us, and will 
love us, to whom we may confide all our 
secrets, who will bear our burdens, share our 
sorrows, and comfort our griefs. Ah, yes ; the 
soul yearns after a friend, and thus she will 
find one, and be with Him, nearer and nearer 
to him for ever. It is not such an emotion as 
exists between husband and wife, parent and 
child, brother and sister. It is what we term 
friendship, for the want of a better term ; that 
which made Christ die for his own, and which 
makes them take joyfully the spoiling of their 
goods, and to rejoice that they are accounted 
worthy to suffer for his name's sake. And 
to eternity will this reci23rocal affection grow 
and increase, and will bring us into commun- 
ion with Christ, firm as the throne of Grod, 
permanent as eternity, and sweet as the wa- 
ters which flow in rivers of joy at Grod's right 
hand. 



A MINISTER WANTED. 71 

X. 

A /VLiNiSTEF^ Wanted. 

Thriftyville wants a minister. They arc 
looking far and near to find one ; but they 
want the "right man." Thriftyville is not 
one of your old, effete places. It is a place 
grown up quickly on Rapid river, in the beau- 
tiful valley of Eureka. It is a very important 
place, standing directly over the centre of the 
earth, so that if a hole were dug, and a stone 
drq:)ped into it, it would pass through the 
very centre of this great world. It has a 
growing population, and boasts of "a circle of 
verij intelligent people." Moreover, it seems 
to be " the centre of a great moral influence," 
and it now wants a minister second to none. 
They want to get the society out of debt, to 
repair the old wastes which time has alreadj^ 
made in their half-built sanctuary, to gather 
in the young, to "draw" a full house, and to 
make the concern every way prosperous and 
respectable, and easy to support. 



72 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Now for the qualifications desired. They 
are so few and simple, that "the right man" 
probably stands at your elbow ! 

Item. He must be a man mature in intel- 
lect, and ripe in experience ; and yet, so young 
that all the young people will rush after him. 

Item. He must be quick, ardent, flashing, 
nervous in temperament, so that he may kin- 
dle quick and burn bright, prompt, read}^, 
and wide awake ; and yet a man of the most 
consummate prudence, whose nerves shall 
never be unstrung, nor out of tune. 

Item. He must be a man of great, burning 
zeal, so that he can startle, arouse, and kin- 
dle, and move the congregation; and yet, so 
cautious, so cool, that he is always safe, calm, 
self-possessed, unperturbed. 

Item. He must have the power to awaken 
and arouse the church ; and yet, let them be 
quiet and look on while he does all that is 
done for Christ. 

Item. He must urge and move men, and 
lead the whole people to salvation, and get 
them all into the church ; and yet be so judi- 
cious that he can make a difference between 



A MINISTER WANTED. 73 

the chaff and the wheat, and let none but real 
converts into the fold. 

Item. He must be strong and original in 
the pulpit, and bring none but beaten oil 
there ; and j^et, be at leisure to receive any 
call, any interruption, be prepared for every 
occasion, and like the town pump, never suck- 
ing for water, or giving out dry. 

Item. He must be a workman who shall go 
down deep into the mines of truth, and quarry 
out its pillars, and set them up, and make men 
come and wrestle around them ; and yet, the 
most gifted man in light conversation, and on all 
that floats in the every-day world around him. 

Item. He must have health, so that his 
body never wearies, his nerves never quiver, 
a real specimen of muscular Christianity ; and 
yet, a hard, severe thinker, a close reasoner, 
and a most diligent student, getting his books 
from any Quarter. 

Item. He must be poor in this v/orld's 
goods, to show that money is not his object, 
and so that he can sympathize with the poor, 
and can't help feeling humble and dependent ; 
and yet his family must be the most hospita- 



74 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

ble, and entertain more company than any 
other in town ; his children must be second to 
none in education and training ; they must be 
respectably dressed ; he must give away more, 
and more cheerfully, than any man in the 
place, not even excepting Esquire Rich him- 
self, and his family must all be models, in all 
respects, for the community. 

Item. He must be a man who can be per- 
manent, thought vastly superior to Dr. Solid 
of the next town, who has been with his flock 
over thirty years ; and his congregation must 
hear the same voice, on the same subject, sev- 
eral times every week ; and yet he must come 
every time as original, as fresh, as glowing as 
if it were done but once a year. 

Item. He must be able to live in a glass 
house, always acting in public, coming in con- 
tact with all sorts of men and of prejudices, 
so original that all will respect and fear him ; 
and yet never odd, eccentric, morosr, repul-= 
sive, or awing in manners. He should have 
the lofty attributes of an angel, with the sym- 
pathies, the gentleness, and softness of the 
little child. 



A MINISTER WANTED. 75 

Item. lie must be always ready, lofty, 
keyed up to do the best possible ; and yet so 
calm in spirit and word and look, that nothing 
can disturb the repose. 

Item. He must never preach so that the 
people are not proud of him when they have 
a stranger in their pew, or so that the echo of 
his sermon shall not come back when he goes 
abroad ; and yet, every sermon must be so 
beautiful, that all the young people will ad- 
mire it and wonder over it, and the little 
child can carr}" it all home and repeat it to 
her grandmother. 

Item. His wife must be the model of all 
models. She must be young and handsome, 
but not indiscreet or vain. She must be 
worthy of the admiration of all the people, 
and yet be really the humblest of all. She 
must watch and discipline and prune and lead 
and make her husband the embodiment of all 
excellence, but she must never be aware of 
her power, lest she become overbearing. She 
must be the model of a lady, have a fair face 
and white hands, though compelled to do all 
the work of lier fanaily. She must be ready 



76 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

to meet everybody with a smile, take lier 
hands from the flour at any moment, wear a 
checked apron, and still be dressed like a 
lady. Her face must never be otherwise than 
cheerful, her head must do its achings in se- 
cret, and she must give none occasion to call 
her extravagant, or to call her mean. She 
must be able to alter the same dress four 
times, turning it thrice, and fitting it to a 
smaller child each time. She will be expect- 
ed to be the very life of the great Dorcas 
Society, the most zealous member of the All- 
Labor Society, the very backbone of the Ma- 
ternal Association, the warm leader in the 
Female Prayer-meeting, the head and mover 
in the Eeading Circle, and the visitor-general 
of the poor. She will be expected to be at 
all the prayer-meetings, and let how many 
soever brethren be present, she will be looked 
to to set the tune for each hymn. As she 
receives no salary, of course her other qualifi- 
cations are not so important, though the above 
are essential. 

Item. The minister must be sound in doc- 
trine, able to lay his hands on the foundations 



A MINISTER WANTED. 77 

of truth, to fortify Jiiid (lefciid the hill of Zion ; 
and yet, must never preach the old-fashioned 
doctrines. They arc not spicy. They are not 
taking. They will never "drav/" a full house. 

Item. It is rather desirable that he should 
be a pious man, and one who loves his Mas- 
ter; and yai, as this article, piety, has not 
acquired great value in Thriftyville, it would 
be well for him not to make that too obtru- 
sive. 

Such, in few words, is the man they want 
for Thriftyville. If they can light on him, 
they will paj^ five hundred dollars annually ! 
and not let it run behind unreasonabl3\ This 
is not, to be sure, half what their clerks re- 
ceive, but they think that the minister, if he 
be only the "right" man, can "manage" to 
live on it. Who is ready ? 

N. B. All applicants must put an extra 
postage-stamp in the letter, or it will receive 
no attention. 



78 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Spiritual Indigestion. 

We sometimes meet witli one who has a 
fair appetite, no sallowness in the face, no 
alarming congh, no hectic flush on the cheek, 
and yet he gradually grows weak, and seems 
to waste away, we hardly know how. It is 
plain that he does not digest his food, and 
assimilate it with the sj^stem. One-half of 
what he eats, could it be made into flesh and 
bone, would make him a strong man. The 
physician perhaps prescribes stimulants, and 
they give a momentary renewal of strength, 
but it does not abide. The man wastes faster 
than he renews. 

It seems to be so with some churches. 
There is the church in Oldenville, which I 
have known for more than a quarter of a cen- 
tury. They have had six pastors in a little 
more than twenty jeavs, and are now without 
a pastor. These six men have carried there 
and spread over the people a great variety and 



SPIKITUAL INDIGESTION. 79 

a great amount of mind. Some of tlicm liave 
been eminent men, and none inferior. They 
have had the slow and the quick, the phleg- 
matic and the mercurial, the heavy columbiad 
and the light artillery. Sometimes they have 
taken stimulants, in the shape of revivalists 
and extraordinary measures — had spiritual 
spasms. But still the church and congrega- 
tion do n't grow strong. There are good men 
among them — ver}^ good ; but as a body, they 
are apparently weaker from year to year. 
They have had first-rate preaching as a gen- 
eral thing, but from some cause or other, their 
spiritual digestion is not good. They don't 
grow strong, don't feel strong. A spiritual 
lassitude rests upon them. They have, I fear, 
depended upon stimulants too much. They 
seem to have forgotten that stimulants are for 
men "ready to perish," and tonics are hot 
really food ; that galvanizing a man, though it 
may make him open his eyes for a moment, 
and even laugh, does not give him life. They 
want the power to digest all the good preach- 
ing which they have had. 

Will the good people of Oldenville take it 



so HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

kindly if I give them a hw hints how they 
may get out of this state ; for unless they do 
get out, they will be as weak, to say the least, 
a quarter of a century hence as they are nov/. 
If I tell them some hard truths, I will try to 
tell them in a soft way. 

1. Get yon a pastor as soon as may be, 
but not in such a hurry that you take a man 
whom you have heard but once. The relation 
between pastor and people, like that between 
husband and wife, should be founded on ac- 
quaintance, esteem, respect, and love. Don't 
depend on hiring a preacher by the month, or 
by the year. Depend upon it, such a man, be 
he ever so good, will leave you at the first 
good call, or at the first cold wind that blows 
over and among you. He cannot have the 
power of a pastor, cannot feel like one, pray 
like one, act like one, be like one. No man 
but a pastor can pray with a pastor's heart. 
If you have ever known a church and society 
grow, under this system of hiring different 
men and for short periods, your experience 
has been different from mine. 

2. I would counsel you to get a young 



SriRITUAL INDIGESTION. 81 

man for your next pastor. To be sure he will 
be a young man, and very likely he will make 
mistakes, and very likely you will miss that 
maturity of thought and teaching which you 
have had so long, and which seems to have 
done you so little good. But he will have 
courage, and he will have zeal, and he will 
not be trammelled bj^ experience, and he will 
move onward. But there is a thought of more 
worth than all this, and that is, a j^oung man 
can" get at and influence the young as no other 
can. The youth loves to read Henry Kirkc 
White because White Avas a youth, thought as 
a youth, and wrote as a youth. In many cases, 
I should advise a church to seek a full-grown, 
mature mind in their pastor. But you need a 
young man. And when you get him, you must 
bear with him, make allowances for his inex- 
perience, and feel sure that the wear and tear 
of life will make him conservative enough ere 
long. Remember that the three great laws of 
health are, plain diet, regular exercise, and the 
open air. Therefore do n't put your minister 
up to make great mental strains, and to give 
you great "intellectual treats." If he aives 

4* 



82 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

you plain instruction, and not too much at 
once, it is all you require. 

3. Encourage your minister, when you 
have one, to give you expository preaching 
one-half of every Sabbath, It will seem dull 
at first, but in a short time you will relish it — 
the sincere milk of the word. Don't wait for 
the milk to be made into butter and cheese. 
Take it as milk. You can digest this. You 
have had too much labored, anvil-wrought 
preaching. The stomach is in an abnormal 
state. Expository preaching will bring it back 
to a healthy condition. This is "the plain 
food" which it seems to me you require. 

4. Encourage and aid your minister to 
devote much of his thought to the young, the 
children and youth. Excuse me if I hint that 
he can make of these something which he can- 
not make out of you, something unlike you, if 
possible. Help him to gather them into the 
Sabbath-school, and into the Bible class. Let 
him lay the foundation of what will, in fifteen 
or twenty years, become a strong and vigor- 
ous church. His very youth will be an im- 
mense advantage to him here. It is his hope. 



SPIEITUAL INDIGESTION. 83 

5. Then for "exercise" and "open air," 
the means are at hand. Come out more will- 
ingl}', promptly, regular!}', and cheerfully to 
3'our ^Yeekly prayer-meeting. Go to work in 
the Sabbath-school ; help your minister to es- 
tablish and sustain "mission Sunday-sffhools " 
in different parts of your town. Keep your 
library full of books. Let the children through 
the town see that you are taking them up in 
your arms and blessing them. Take air and 
exercise regularly in the devotions and the 
activities of the church. You are rusting ; 
you are perishing for the want of air and ex- 
ercise. How few of you go to the prayer- 
meeting ; and how few to the monthly concert ! 
Up, brethren, take air and exercise. 

6. Give more liberally. It is a beautiful 
way of taking the air. You breathe more 
freely after every such exercise of giving. 
Do n't do it by spasms, but as a regular thing. 
Your prayers will be better. You can't send 
an arrow that will pierce the skies if 3'our 
right hand is employed in grasping your 
purse. "Give without ^n<^^m^." Alas, how 
little of such giving is there in the world ! 



84 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

7. Have faith in the gospel, in the mission 
of the church, in the i30wer of Christians to 
reach and save men. You are tlie light of the 
world ; rekindle that light, by renewing the 
oil. To work then, and begin at the bottom. 
And then ''they that shall he of thee shall build 
the old waste places : thou shalt raise up the 
foundations of many generations ; and thou 
shalt be called, The repairer of the breach, 
The restorer of paths to dwell in." 



A MODEL SUTEKINTENDENT. 86 

XII. 

A Model Superintendent. 

It is no fancy sketch tliat I a in about to 
draw. Friends may overestimate the worth 
of their departed friends ; but I have the be- 
lief that a Christian pastor, who is cheered by 
what is good and tried by what is evil in man, 
will not be likely to fall into the mistake. 

The man of whom I am speaking has lately 
been called away from us — cut off suddenly 
in the strength of his manhood, in the height 
of his usefulness, and in the fulness of the 
Christian confidence which surrounded him. 

He came to us from the city of New York, 
where he had long been engaged in the ragged 
schools, and in holding up the cross — often 
alone — in places where it was least welcome. 
He who serves a long and faithful apprentice- 
ship, will be most likely to become an expert 
workman. His apprenticeship had been in 
the ravines and dark places which are found 
at the base of Mount Zion, and many were 



86 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

those, who belonged to that city, called "sought 
out," and whom he led up to the gates of 
Zion. 

Picture to yourself a man nervous in tem- 
perament, quick in every movement, with a 
face radiant with cheerfulness, and with a 
bright eye, that looked as if it never wanted 
to slumber — a man whose heart could be, and 
alwaj^s was warm, without the drawback of a 
head proportionabljMveak. You never felt a 
chill in the atmosphere where he was ; you 
felt that you were breathing air untainted by 
selfishness ; and you knew that whatever you 
asked of him — time, money, labor, self-denial, 
or any thing else for the cause of Christ — you 
would have a response prompt, quick, and 
decisive, I never made a request of him to 
which he did not instantly and cheerfully re- 
spond, and my great fear was that the free 
horse would be overworked, that we should 
put the load of the elephant upon a back really 
feeble. I fear we often did so. Just a week 
before he died, he took his horse and carriage 
and carried me to a distant school-house, 
where I was to preach, and where he sung. 



A MODEL SUPERINTENDENT. 87 

Had he known that it was his last meeting, he 
could not have led the singing more tenderly 
or beautifully. I did not know then that his 
sweet voice would so soon be waking the notes 
of praise in heaven. 

His great work, with us, was the establish- 
ing and maintaining till his death, a model 
mission Sabbath-school, in a distant part of 
the town. How soon he acquired the love 
and confidence of the parents and of the chil- 
dren. They belonged to different denomina- 
tions ; they were born in different countries ; 
but he gathered them all into Bible classes, 
common classes, and infant classes. There 
was neither Greek nor Jew here. I doubt 
whether it occurred to him from Sabbath to 
Sabbath to what denomination his teachers 
belonged. He established a good library, 
procured singing books for the whole school, 
and instructed them all how to sing. It was 
a luxury to hear that school sing ; and it was 
a very touching sight when that school, in- 
fants and all, attended his funeral, and stood 
in two rows, as his body was carried between 
them, with their little badges of mourning 



88 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

pinned to the left shoulder, with their young 
heads dropping on their breasts, and their 
eyes welling over with tears that came up 
from the heart. There • is something most 
beautiful in the simple and sincere tribute to 
worth, when childhood weeps. Nothing but 
unselfish, kind, and cheerful labor can procure 
such a tribute. The teachers who aided him 
caught much of his wide-awake, unselfish, and 
gladdened spirit. When all things else were 
fading, as the angel of death entered his cham- 
ber, the last thing he inquired for and about 
was his beloved school. 

He loved children without having to try to 
do it. That kind of freemasonry of love which 
children are quick to understand, gathered 
them around him. Hence for years he was 
the mainspring and centre of the large "Band 
of Hope " which was formed here to aid the 
cause of temperance. Whoever else might 
droop or sag, he was a live man — a sort of 
Christian "Wide-awake." He loyed the 
church, he loved missions, he loved ever}'- 
tree that grew on the banks of the Eiver of 
Life, whatever might be the shape of the 



A MODEL SUPERINTENDENT. 89 

leaves that were for the healing of the nations. 
When gatliering money for the tract cause — • 
for this department was especially committed 
to him — you would think he had faith in this 
way of doing good alone; so at the concert 
for prayer, it did one good to unite with him 
as he gathered up the wants and sorrows of 
the human family, and ])oured thenr out be- 
fore the throne. 

Doubtless he had imperfections, weak- 
nesses, and faults ; but I honestly believe that 
when he died he had not an enemy in the 
world. If all men did not speak well of him, 
none spoke evil. If he had not the highest 
human perfection, he had little of what may bo 
called "drawbacks" in his character. When 
the great congregation, on the week-day, 
gathered at his funeral, all received the im- 
pression that nothing but a great amount of 
Christian character could call forth such a 
multitude, and nothing short of great worth 
could win so much respect and love. AVhat a 
beautiful thing it is to live in the resj^ect, the 
confidence, and the love of the whole commu- 
nity ; and what a character is produced by a 



90 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

long-continued contact with children ! It soft- 
ens without weakening ; it stamps childhood's 
gladness on the heart, without its foibles ; it 
bathes the spirit in fresh dews, and keeps the 
heart warm by pure love. It seems to me 
that Moses' face would always have shone, 
could he have had to do only with children. 

Our loss is great. Paul had many helpers, 
good and true men ; but of Timothy he says, 
he has "none other like-minded." His tomb 
is not among us, and the little feet of our chil- 
dren cannot walk around it ; but he will long 
live in our memory, the earnest, the cheerful, 
the loving sujoerintendent and faithful teacher. 
The present generation will not cease grate- 
fully to remember the name of William P. 
Warriner. 



KEEPING THE SABBATH. 91 

XIII. 

Keeping the jSabbath. 

We should all like to have somebody do 
what can never be done, that is, tell us just 
what duties we are to perform each Sabbath, 
as it returns. We should then know when 
we had kept the day and performed our 
duty. It would be easy to know when we 
had done our duty, if some one could tell us 
just how many chapters were to be read, just 
how many minutes were to be spent in secret 
prayer, just how much time in the house of 
God, just how much we are to give in charity, 
and the like. 

We can't do this. We can't tell you just 
the hour you shall rise or go to bed, what you 
shall eat or wear. All this must be left to 
the conscience, enlightened, as it should be, 
by the Bible. The circumstances of men arc 
so different, that what one does, and thereby 
fulfils a duty, would be sin in other circum- 
stances. Who could teach the physician to 



92 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

keep the Sabbath by rules? A very good but 
simple Christian once said to a sea-captain : 

"Sir, I trust you don't sail your vessel on 
the Sabbath, do you?" 

"Oh no, I tie her up to the stump of a 
tree." 

No rules can be laid down for the sailor's 
Sabbath. It must depend on the storm or the 
calm, and on things which no one can control. 
So the mother of a family of little children, 
with all the disorders of childhood to pass 
through, cannot always go by rules. Nor can 
the sick man, nor even the minister of Christ ; 
it is his hardest day of labor, and he keeps 
the Sabbath best when, with a right spirit, he 
works the hardest. 

But if we cannot all have specific rules and 
directions, we can have hints; and it is only 
two of these that I now propose to give. 

In order then to the right observance of 
the Sabbath, 

1. You must have an enlightened conscience. 

The word of God will inform you when the 
Sabbath was instituted, and why. It will show 
you that it is not a Jewish institution, but was 



KEEPING THE SABBATH. 93 

"made for man ;" that it is to be as perpetual 
as the world which it lifts up towards God ; 
that its design is the moral culture of our race, 
a season for worship, for praise, and prayer, 
and confession. Our notions respecting it are 
not to be taken from the age in which we hap- 
pen to live. Every age has its own driftings 
and dangers, which are sure to be away from 
the Bible, let them be what they may. The 
Bible cannot bend to the age, but we must trj^ 
to bring the age to the Bible, as the right stand- 
ard. There can be little doubt that our age is 
drifting towards relaxed views in regard to the 
Sabbath. It arises from the state of the coun- 
try, from the influx of multitudes from the old 
world, where no sacredness is associated with 
the Sabbath, from the allurements and calls of 
mammon, from a craving for sensational preach- 
ing, so that we have every imaginable and 
unimaginable thing advertised to be preached 
at this i^lace and that place every Sabbath, 
and we have imitators of the follies which men 
of real mind continually commit, and we have 
not a small class of preachers to whom a battle, 
a fire, a great railroad accident, or a huge ship- 



94 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

wreck, is a real God-send to help out the next 
sermon. There is a feeling too, with many, 
that it is very important not to seem to be 
rigid and Puritanic, and they are very careful 
not to drive the world off by too tenaciously 
holding up a holy Sabbath. They tell us of 
the awful severity and rigidity of our fathers, 
and how they used to disgust their children 
by the gloomy solemnity of the Sabbath. 

I must say here that, for myself, I was 
brought up after the "most straitest sect" of 
Puritans — Saturday night, catechism in the 
school on Saturday, and catechism on the Sab- 
bath, a small piece of pie for dinner, and every 
worldly thing interdicted — and yet I know J 
was never disgusted with the Sabbath. On 
the contrarj^, it made an impression of its 
sacredness on me, for which I thank G-od, and 
I can never be thankful enough for this train- 
ing. It is a ver}^ easy thing, and a very con- 
temptible thing, to sneer at our fathers. But 
it is wholly unjust. I have lately seen in a 
religious paper the old story of the boy whom 
his father tied to a bed-post on the Sabbath, 
all day, and the boy asking if there were any 



KEEPING THE SABBATH. 95 

bed-posts ill heaven ; for if so, he did n't want 
to go there. This is told as if it belonged to 
a Puritan family in New England. I have 
only to say, that when a boy I heard it told 
of some old Scotch Covenanter, in Scotland. 
And I presume it was about as old then as 
now, and about as true. I don't believe a 
word of the story. And yet how many arc so 
afraid of the Puritan Sabbath that they read 
papers and magazines, talk on all manner of 
things, and lay no restraint on their families. 
And I sometimes fear there is less , con- 
science on this subject than on almost any 
other. Is the conscience enlightened and 
obeyed if you make the Sabbath less than 
one-seventh of your time ; if joii talk about 
what you would not wish Christ to hear; if 
you walk abroad, even if you go to the beau- 
tiful cemetery ; if you read what you would 
not like to have your minister see you read- 
ing ; if you make it a day of special sleeping, 
so that you can chase the world harder the 
ensuing w^eek ; if you take special pains with 
your table, so as to disqualify you for thought 
and meditation ; if you have no special season 



96 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

for private worship and communion with God ; 
if you are aware that the day comes and goes, 
and you make no spiritual improvement, or if 
it is a weariness rather than a delight? 

2. Feel that the Sahhatli is all-important, and 
to he honored and preserved sacred. 

The day that we cease to regard the Sab- 
bath as holy, and the fourth command as bind- 
ing as any one of the ten, will be calamitous 
to us, to our children, and to our countr3^ I 
do beg my dear brethren in the ministry not 
to be. afraid to hold up this sacred day, and to 
urge it upon the consciences of their people ; 
and I do solemnly entreat our Christian fami- 
lies not to foil in with the notion that "we live 
in a new day" and "an enlightened age," and 
"a busy, stirring age," and therefore we must 
relax our notions in regard to keeping the 
Sabbath. Our children will turn their backs 
on God when they do on his Sabbath. France 
once became so "enlightened" that she tram- 
pled the Sabbath out of existence, and she 
became at once a cauldron of blood, around 
v/hich demons danced as they stirred the fires. 
Mammon will urge Christians to fall in with 



KEEPING THE SABBATH. 97 

the necessities of the age, and run cars and 
steamboats, and make visits, and in hundreds 
of ways destroy the Sabbath. Nothing can 
now save it as a holy, sacred day, but the con- 
science of Christians. If they fail, it is gone, 
and I have no hope for our churches or our 
civil institutions. It must be held, not as a day 
of rest and teaching merely, but a day holy 
unto God. The day, in name, will live. I have 
no fear that it will ever cease to be regarded, 
and that statedl}^; but to answer the ends of 
its appointment, it must be sacred and holy 
time. I could tell some facts about it that 
would make the heart of piety ache. We 
have no fear that infidelity can tear it from 
the Bible, and make the world believe that it 
has not God's seal upon it ; but we are more 
afraid that, without designing it, or hardly 
knowing that they are doing it, the people of 
God will allow our headlong age to cause it to 
drift from its moorings, and be made to rise 
and fall as it floats on the waves of popular 
opinion. Instead of being a time to let down 
that which is high and good, the present is a sol- 
emn moment in the world's history ; and to the 



98 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Sabbath, the very sheet-anchor of this fallen 
world, we should cling with all the tenacity of 
martyrs. Don't be afraid then of being too 
particular or too rigid in keeping the Sabbath. 
The danger is all the other way; and I am 
more than glad, I am thankful, that I may 
believe that I am speaking the mind and the 
feelings of the great body of evangelical min- 
isters in uttering my earnest cr}^ for the Sab- 
bath of our fathers. 



DULL PRAYER-:\rEETINGS. 99 



XIV. 

How TO MAKE oui^ Prayer-meeting Dull 

The weekly prayer-meeting is an old in- 
stitution. Almost every cliurcli has it. I 
might give its origin, its uses, its benefits to 
the church and the community. There are a 
great many who never attend it. I shall not 
say a word to them at this time. But many 
who do attend, seem to contrive to make it 
dull. As this is a labor-saving age, it occurs 
to me that a few hints might help them to do 
it easil}^, readil}-, and surely. Please remem- 
ber that the problem is, Jiow to make our pray- 
er-meeting dull, and that I am telling you how 
to do it. 

Suppose the meeting is to be to-night. 
During the day, don't think of it, don't speak 
of it, don't let one in your family dream thai 
you think of it. It is a small affair, and your 
thoughts are on business and bargains or dress, 
or some great affair. When night comes, see 
if you can't find some excuse for staying away. 



100 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Are jou not very tired? You have been at 
hard work, and began early. You must feel 
tired. Wont that excuse you? If not, are 
you sure you don't feel unwell? Have you 
no cold coming on? If not, is it not difficult 
to leave the family? Is there no duty at home 
that will excuse you ? 

Inquire if it is really your duty to go. 
Everybody cannot go. Why should it be jovly 
duty? There are your neighbors A and N, 
who never go. There are multitudes who 
never go ; why must you be a martyr to duty, 
and be always expected there? You have 
seen the horse which dreads to trot. You 
touch him with the whip, and cry, "Come, 
sir," and he hitches and rolls, and seems to 
say, "Now must I trot again?" You can sym- 
pathize with him, can't you ? You know too, 
that the meeting will be thin and dull, and 
you will not feel warm and happy ; and now, 
is it really your duty to go ? Dwell on this 
doubt as long as you can, and then if, after 
all, you feel that you must go, 

Go in very late. It shows that you de- 
termined to be there, at all events. Take 



DULL PRAYEE-MEETINGS. 101 

your seat down near the door. You wont be 
so likely to be called on to "take a part." 
Do n't Christ tell joii to take a low place, and 
what is that but near the door, behind all the 
rest? The leader of the meeting wont be so 
likely to see you there, and what example is 
more beautiful than modesty ! 

Don't feel any responsibility about the 
meeting. Don't go to your closet and pray 
for the presence of Christ before you go. 
Do n't lift up your heart for the presence of 
the Holy Spirit, while on the way. If you 
are a singer, be sure and let your modesty 
have full play, and don't sing. If you are 
not a singer, do n't feel any responsibility to 
get a singer or two there ; that patient, faith- 
ful sister will be there, and she will turn her 
anxious face at every opening of the door, to 
see if some brother who can lead the singing 
is not coming in, and finding none, she will 
set the tune and go on, as she has hundreds 
of times before. Why should you feel respon- 
sibility, when she is evidently growing in pa- 
tience and meekness under a burden so wrong- 
fully thrown upon you ? 



102 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

If called upon to pray, see how long you 
can be. The world is full of things that need 
praj^er, the Jews, the Grentiles, the Moham- 
medans, Papists, Heathen, and the like. Bring 
them all in. It shows how 3''0u can compre- 
hend all. Then there 's ' ' the patience of hope '' 
fully exercised before you get through. If 
you have any particular hobby, be sure and 
ride that. Grive the Lord the whole history 
of it. Tell him plainly what you think he 
ought to do in the case, and exhort him to do 
it. Such a long prayer is the main dish of 
the meal. TJiere 's little room for much more, 
and you know too much variety is not good. 
It makes "itching ears." 

Perhaps it is a better way to put jouv 
head down, and look so tired and indifferent 
that the}^ will not dare to call upon 3^ou, lest 
they find you asleep. Sit silent as long as 
you can. There 's great power in silence. It 
helped Wolff to take Quebec. And if you 
sit with the head down, how do they know 
but you are in profound meditation? There 
may be more passing in your mind than they 
ever dream of. Who can tell what notes a 



DULL PRAYER-MEETINGS. 103 

silent harp might give forth, if it had David's 
hand to wake it up ? 

If they will call upon you, and insist on it, 
that you " say a few words to us," then by 
all means occupy the time in telling how 
dead the church is, how low religion is, how 
sin abounds, and be sure and give those who 
are not present a sound berating for their ab- 
sence. It shows that you know a few things, 
and you know that religion will never revive 
so long as the prayer-meeting is so poorly 
attended. No matter if you have been harp- 
ing upon this for years. Are we not to give 
"line upon line?" You needn't exactly scold, 
but come as near it as you can. Put on the 
lash, they will bear it, for — they are absent. 
And how comforting and encouraging to the 
faithful few who do attend, to have you always 
complaining, and gathering all the thorns and 
burrs that grow on mount Zion. The reproofs 
of the righteous are like oil; pour it on, and 
see if it does not make their faces shine with 

joy. 

See how uniform you can make all your 
meetings. No variety in singing, in tunes, in 



104 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

those tliat take part in it. Never relate any 
thing 3"ou have read or heard. And when 
3^ou go home, try and laugh about the meet- 
iig, how dull it was; what miserable singing ; 
how Mr. Black went over the same prayer, 
and Mr. White made the same exhortation, 
and Mr. Hand was dull, and Mr. Foot was 
slow, and you do wonder what ails the meet- 
ings ! Be sure and let your family hear you 
find fault with every thing that was " said or 
sung," with men because they did take a part, 
and with men because they did not. Speak 
of your meetings in such a way that saint 
and sinner will be afraid to go near them. 

I might extend these directions much fur- 
ther. But "enough is as good as a feast;" 
and I feel certain that if these hints are faith- 
fully followed, you will have no cause to com- 
plain because your prayer-meeting is not dull 
enough ; and if you are not grateful to me for 
the aid I have given, may it not be because 
you fear it will be found out where you got 
your power — to make the prayer-meeting dull! 



INTERESTING PRAYEK-MEETINGS. 105 

XV. 

ffow TO Make oui^ Prayer-meeting 
Interesting. 

We sympathize deeply with the true and 
the faithful — not a large number in any church — 
who are always at "our" prayer-meeting, and 
who wish they knew how to make it more in- 
teresting. You want to know how to bring 
live coals to the altar as you go to waken its 
fires. You want not merely to enjoy more, 
but to have others enjoy more ; and jou want 
this meeting 'to be an instrument of doing your 
church and the community good. How shall 
you aid ? 

Let the weekly prayer-meeting live in your 
heart. Think of it when in your business ; 
when yoa read j'our Bible, and see if you do 
not light upon a beautiful text to carry there ; 
when you read the religious paper, and see if 
you do not find some thought or some anec- 
dote or some fact which you can use in the 
meeting. See if you can't gather a few drops 

5* 



106 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

of the dew which falls on Hermon. You may 
not be a theologian or a genius, but you can 
do something, if you will think of it before- 
hand. You can utter a thought in a few mo- 
ments, which cost you perhaps days to think 
out. A single thought tliat has been revolv- 
ing in your mind, may be valuable in propor- 
tion as it has been thought over. The pebble 
which David chose Avas one that had been 
washed and smoothed in the brook a long 
time. It was all the better for its polishing. 

On the day of your meeting, do n't forget to 
think about it ; mention it in your family wor- 
ship ; let your family see that it lives in your 
heart. Be sure and pray for it before you go 
to it. Ask, plead that Christ will be mani- 
fested in it. Pray that the Holy Spirit may 
be present to warm, cheer, and animate every 
heart. 

Feel responsibility for it. Make it a sol- 
emn dut}^, a habit, and a privilege to be there. 
Go with a cheerful face. Don't go acting, 
looking, or feeling as if you had a chain around 
you called Duty, by which you were dragged 
to the place. If the room is dark, move round 



INTERESTING PRAYER-MEETINGS. 107 

and get more lights. If not warm and cheer- 
ful, go to your brethren, and insist upon it 
that the room must be comfortable, pleasant, 
and inviting. If others seem inclined to shirk, 
don't you. If the singing is tame or dull, or 
there is none at all, be careful and see some 
one of the brethren who is a singer, and urge 
him to be there. If you can't sing, he must 
go. If you can, you need his aid. Go up 
near the pulpit or table, up where your min- 
ister and your brethren can see you, and feel 
that your breath is warm. 

If the meeting is thrown open for remarks, 
do n't sit and wait for others. Be ready. 
Have your gun loaded, and shoot quick. There 
is no life in silence or in waiting. Let your 
prayer be short. It may be much longer than 
you think it is. I once heard and joyfully 
united in six prayers, no one of which was 
over two minutes long. They were intensely 
good. 

Feel under obligation to have variety in 
your meeting. It is fatal to inake a prayer- 
meeting stereotyped. Can't you sometimes 
have something new sung? Can't you get 



108 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

this or that diflQcIent young man to come in 
and say a few words ? Can't yon get that 
other man who never speaks, to open his 
mouth? You must go to them alone before 
the meeting, and speak encouragingly to them. 
Do n't scare them by making them think they 
must make a speech. Go to your meeting 
hopeful — I mean, really believing Christ, when 
he promises to be in the midst of the two or 
three who gather in his name. You may feel, 
perhaps, that you are cold and others are 
cold. But there certainly will be One there, 
Christ, who is not cold. Don't always be 
harping on one string, either in your prayers 
or in your exhortations. Keep the wheels 
out of the old, deep rut. Some are always 
dwelling upon a revival, a revival, as if there 
was nothing done or to be prayed for but 
this: whereas there is the spirituality of the 
church ; there is the word, the seed sown ; 
there is the Sabbath-school ; there is the lib- 
erality of the people of God ; there is the soil 
preparing and to be prepared for the seed of 
the word ; and all these belong to the prayer- 
meeting. 



INTERESTING PRAYER-MEETINGS. 109 

Do n't scold. It will do no good. Those 
present feel that they don't deserve it, and 
the absent do n't hear it. The prayer-meet- 
ing is not the place to groan under spiritual 
dyspepsia. Do n't whip your pastor with your 
prayers. His heart is heavy enough ; but he 
knows it is often best to keep his heart-aclies 
to himself, and to be at least outwardly cheer- 
ful. He wants and needs your earnest pray- 
ers and sympathies. 

Don't teach false theology. You some- 
times hear men say, ' ' If now this church- 
would only come down on her knees in the 
dust before God, a revival would follow." 
Do n't j^ou know that if she should thus come 
down, the revival is already there ? 

Do n't carrj^ a burdened conscience to the 
prayer-meeting. If to-day or the last week 
you have wronged any one in bargains, in 
words, or in any way, settle it with him and 
with God before you come to the meeting. 
You will find the meeting dead and cold to 
you if 3'ou do not. Our sins separate between 
us and God. 

Don't be afraid you will do more than 



no HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

your share to make "our praycr-meetiug " 
interesting. " Wliatsoever thy hand findeth 
to do, do it with thy might." In building a 
church edifice — the mere shell to contain the 
church — there must be the architect and the 
contractor and the carpenters, and also the 
men with spades, and men to carry the brick 
and the mortar. They are all to do some- 
thing. So let it be with all who are laboring 
together to build up the true spiritual church 
of Christ. 



FAMILY GOVERNMENT. Ill 



XVI. 

Family Government. 

I AM speaking of those whose children are 
young; with characters unformed, with fac- 
ulties undeveloped. Don't turn away, say- 
ing to yourself, "I can't get time to read or 
plan. He can't sympathize with me. I have 
burdens heavy enough daily, without being 
lectured." Softly, softly. It may be possible 
that, if I can't relieve you of any of your bur- 
dens, I can help you to bear them. Those 
little ones, the flowers of the hearth, the sun- 
beams in your dwelling, are worth to you and 
to themselves all your anxieties, cares, and 
toils, and they will, if rightly trained, repay 
a thousand-fold all they cost jou. Remem- 
ber that you are to your child a friend, a 
ruler, and a teacher. 

To control him, readil}^ and fully, you must 
at all times govern yourself. 

If the child sees that you are irritable, 
hasty, ill-tempered, and passionate, he will 



112 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

understand this very early. I shall not now 
explain the reason why it is so ; but the fact 
is undeniable, that he who would control oth- 
ers, must control himself. If then, you act 
and decide, say Yes or No, smile or frown, 
according as you happen to feel at the mo- 
ment, you make that child feel you are as 
liable to treat him with injustice as otherwise. 
He can't respect passion or temper. You lose 
in his respect, and also in his love. And 
your observation will teach you that, among 
all your acquaintances, you can't think of one 
instance where parents have good family gov- 
ernment, who cannot govern themselve&-. 

Insist on promjpt, cheerful obedience^ and that 
without giving the reasons. 

It is a very common mistake to appeal to 
the reason of your child, and show him how 
reasonable your command is. The fact is, the 
child has no reason to which you can appeal. 
His reason must grow out of the experience 
of life. It is undeveloped as yet, and God 
has placed him in subjection to you, because 
you have reason and he has not. The child 
loves to discuss the matter, and debate the 



FAMILY GOVERNMENT. 113 

why and wherefore, and if permitted, will 
often overpower the reason of parents by the 
most pnerile assertions. You may cultivate 
the reasoning faculties of your child as much 
as you please, but it is not the time to do it 
when you have laid a command upon him. 
Some try to gain obedience by appealing to 
love, or shame, or the good opinion of others, 
but never seem to think that their commands 
are all the reason the child needs. Grod laj'S 
his commands upon us, without assigning the 
reasons why we should obey them. What a 
volume on the rights of property might be 
written under the command, "Thou shalt not 
steal." 

In family government it is very important 
that the father and mother sustain each other. 

■ The child will early learn which parent 
yields soonest to importunity, and he will 
therefore, if refused by the sterner one, never 
rest till he has tried the weaker. I shall not 
say which of the parents is oftener the soon- 
est to yield. But when the child makes a 
request which you see fit to deny him, and he 
says, "Well, I'll go and ask father; I know 



114 HINTS AND THOUGHTS, 

he will let me," that father, if he does so, is 
making a great mistake. The mother, shut 
np, worn and troubled, wearied and discour- 
aged by the constant supervision of her chil- 
dren, needs all the aid and support which the 
authority of a father can give her. The child 
should never feel that there is an appeal from 
the decision of one parent to the good-nature 
of the other. Even if you do n't feel that the 
decision has been the wisest possible, don't 
let the child know that you feel so. Take it 
for granted that the decision has been right. 
Draw together, and let the voice of one be 
the voice of both. 

Strive to develope your child slowly. 

It is an inherent part of the American 
character to do things quick. We can't wait 
for trees to grow naturall}^ We must stimu- 
late them, and then boast how early we made 
them bear fruit, forgetting that they must de- 
cay as earlj^. We can't huild a house, we must 
"run it up." We can't build a bridge that 
will last ages; we must " throw one over the 
stream," and in a few years see it perish. 
We do n't want to have boys and girls ; they 



FAMILY GOVEKNMENT. 115 

must leap from infancy into manhood. "We 
must stimulate the child, see how fast we can 
cram and excite the brain, and develope the 
man in him. Hence we must have prema- 
ture and immature and obscure men — all from 
the most promising and precocious children. 
Whereas the perfection of education is slow de- 
velojyment. 

When you see the fond parent trying to 
show you how "forward" his child is, how 
"quick" he is, how he excels in his class, and 
when you see him trying to "show off" his 
darling, I beg you to commiserate the child, 
and write it down in your book that the child 
will never be much of a man. That slow, 
heavy boy, whose skull seems to be so thick 
that you cannot get an idea into it, will prob- 
ably develope slowly and long, and will re- 
tain every idea that ever gets into his skull. 
He is the boy that you may expect to make 
a strong, manly character. Willows sprout 
early and grow fast. The oak puts out its 
leaf late, and grows slowly. The one is wov- 
en into baskets, the other is bolted into ships. 
Don't feel elated because your child is pre- 



116 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

cocious ; do n't feel discouraged because lie 
seems slow to acquire. In the end, the turtle 
almost invariably beats the fox in the race. 
We could give examples enough to prove this. 
You will find that a great deal of character 
is imparted and received at the table. Par- 
ents too often forget this ; and therefore, in- 
stead of swallowing your food in sullen silence, 
instead of brooding over your business, instead 
of severely talking about others, let the con- 
versation at the table be genial, kind, social, 
and cheering. Do n't bring disagreeable things 
to the table in your conversation, any more 
than you would in your dishes. For this rea- 
son too, the more good company you have at 
your table, the better for your children. Every 
conversation with company at your table is 
an educator of the family. Hence the intelli- 
gence and the refinement and the appropriate 
behavior of a family which is given to hos- 
pitality. Never feel that intelligent visitors 
can be any thing but a blessing to you and 
yours. How few have fully gotten hold of 
the fact, that company and conversation at 
the table are no small part of education ! 



FAMILY GOVEBNMENT. 117 

Oue tbiug more. There is one thing that 
will aid you to govern yourself, to decide 
rightly, to be kind and yet firm, to govern 
your children, and to meet the responsibili- 
ties of life, beyond all that I have said, and 
that is, daily, humble, earnest prayer. This 
is the mightiest aid you can seize. Without 
it, you will fail; but with it, you can hardly 
be disappointed in your hopes. 



118 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

XVII. 

The jVLoDEL Deacon. 

When I first knew him he was a youug 
man, having just come to the place of my resi- 
dence to begin business among us. He was 
unmarried, and I knew him only as a very 
pleasant j^oung man, bearing a mild counte- 
nance and a hopeful look. He at once came 
into my church, entered the Sabbath-school as 
a teacher, and showed an active, modest piety. 
From that hour to his death he has been 
steadily and silently growing in Christian 
character. In a ver}^ few years he had so 
gained the confidence of the community, that, 
while yet a j^oung man, he was elected an 
officer in our church. With great diffidence 
and distrust, he at once came to talk the mat- 
ter over with his minister, and receive his 
advice. He came in company with another 
young man, whom the church had placed by 
his side in precisely the same circumstances. 
I should not dare attempt to recall the solemn 



THE MODEL DEACON. 119 

conversations of that hour. The modest, beau- 
tiful letter which they addressed to the church, 
accepting the trust, showed that she had not 
mistaken her sons. They were together in- 
ducted into office on the Sabbath that our old 
church edifice was burned. 

Nobody has so good an opportunity to 
know the members of his church as the pas- 
tor ; and if he be a kind, generous-hearted 
man, no one can appreciate all that is good so 
highly. To him every improvement of char- 
acter among them is the dust of diamonds. 

Some men in office are always in a state of 
anxiety lest they be overlooked, or have less 
respect or influence than is their due. But so 
far as I can remember, I never saw any of 
this Diotrephean spirit in him. When called 
to act, whether it were to do a humble deed 
or a great one, he never inquired how he 
would look while doing it; he never seemed 
to think of himself. Hence he was always 
natural, and always like himself. He never 
shouted in order to hear the echoes of his own 
voice. I have seen him on great occasions, 
when many eyes were upon him, and I have 



120 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

seen him at the head of our Sabbath-school 
year after year, and I have seen him bringing 
in benches and giving seats to the poor, and 
falling back into the ranks and taking a single 
class in the same Sabbath-school, and I never 
saw any difference in his appearance or spirit. 

Whether conducting a religious meeting, 
when its responsibility was resting on him, or 
whether talking alone with his pastor con- 
cerning his private experience and Christian 
hopes, he was ever the same quiet, lowly, yet 
sincere man. You never feared that he would 
say or profess more than he felt ; that he would 
attempt to be more than he was, or try to do 
more than he could. He did not wait for 
great occasions when he could do great things 
for his Master, or for a dark night, when his 
lamp, if kindled, would be seen afar off, but 
was always ready to act. I have had him 
with me on councils of importance, and I have 
had him go with me to the sinning and the 
erring, and I never, on either of such occa- 
sions, heard him say a word or give a look 
that I would have had altered. 

His Christian experience was so wrought 



THE MODEL DEACON. 121 

in him, that I don't think he ever had, till he 
came to die, all the consolations of hope which 
he might have appropriated. He dwelt higher 
uj) the monnt than he thought, and he wist 
not that his face shone, when -others saw^ that 
it did. 

There was no one among us, perhaps, wdio 
was more interested in foreign missions ; in 
collecting money from our own people ; in re- 
ceiving it from the churches in the country to 
be transmitted to the Board ; in attending the 
monthly concerts ; in circulating intelligence ; 
or more warm in sympathy or more fervent 
in prayer for the conversion of the world ; 
and yet there was no one, probably, whom the 
poor would more deeply mourn or more decid- 
edly miss. His was an eye that saw want afar 
off, and no less clearly that which was near. 

He was a model in benevolence. I have 
never known him turn away from a call of 
charity ; and my only fear on that score has 
been lest he should actually give more than 
he ought, and to objects not always the most 
pressing. And when I speak of his amiable 
life. T do not mean simply that he had a coun- 



122 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

tenaiice so mild and lovely that all loved to 
look at it; speech so sweet that all loved to 
have him speak to them ; a smile so winning 
that all loved to meet it ; and a disposition so 
gentle that none could receive offence : but I 
mean that the natural traits of character were 
so permeated by the spirit of Christ, that the 
whole man was made uncommon. How sel- 
dom is it that a pastor can be associated inti- 
mately with one standing in his relation, and 
so long, and be able to recall no word that was 
unkind, no act that was disrespectful, no emo- 
tion that was un-Christian, and no look that 
was cold. And yet there was no want of 
manly independence, and no spirit of syco- 
phancy. 

We sometimes admire the tree which our 
own hand hath planted, as it silently and 
slowly shoots up and spreads out its branches, 
and stands out a thing of strength and of 
beauty. How much more beautiful to see 
a human soul developed and enlarged and 
strengthened, till the whole community can 
trust it and love it while here, and deeply 
mourn it when removed, 



THE MODEL DEACON. 123 

His was the beautiful path on the banks of 
the river of life, and under the shade of the 
trees that grow there, in which he who walks 
therein has neither to seek nor to shun office, 
neither to seek nor to shun riches, neither to 
strive to be great or small, because there 
walks One with him who is himself the ex- 
ceeding great reward. I never heard him 
intimate that there was an office in the world 
which he coveted, or gains that he desired. 
He took his place modestly at life's banquet, 
and asked nothing which was not in the bill 
of fare. Whether I wanted him to go with me 
to an outside neighborhood meeting, or to see 
to the wants of any poor saint, or converse 
with any backsliding one, or do any other 
self-denying work, I never knew him refuse, 
or tr}^ to find excuses for not doing it. And 
yet so unobtrusive was his piety, so symmet- 
rical was his character, and so gently he moved 
among us, that it was not till we saw him actu- 
ally taken from us that we realized how much 
of worth was removed. Those who have seen 
his face as he ministered at the communion 
table, those who have met him weekly at the 



1-24 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

prayer-meeting, tliose wlio have seen him in 
his busiest hours, those who have been in his 
classes in the Sabbath-school, those who have 
had him come to them in their poverty or sick- 
ness, will now, and more and more, feel their 
loss and miss his presence. 

I am comforted under our heavy loss, in 
the cheering thought that such a character 
may actually grow up among us, and reach so 
much development, and when, in the fulness 
of usefulness and of strength it is cut down, it 
can leave such a mighty testimony to the 
power of the gospel of Christ. Scarcely could 
any one have lowlier views of the depravity 
of the heart, feel a deeper need of an atone- 
ment and a divine power to renew the heart, 
or have a more exalted reverence or love for 
the Saviour of sinners. 

The summons came unexpectedly. And 
when the overtasked brain gave way and the 
intellect was shattered, it was beautiful to see 
the weary spirit dwelling on the great reali- 
ties of eternity, struggling to see light through 
the chinks which disease was making in the 
poor house of clay, and ringing out of the 



THE MODEL DEACON. 125 

midnight of the soul, "God is love! God is 
love!'' 

I have buried many strong, useful men. I 
have had Aarons and Hurs taken from me ; 
but I have seldom more deeply felt my per- 
sonal loss than in burying this man. But on 
the Sabbath morning, just after we had com- 
menced our morning service, the angel of the 
Presence came, and took him away so gentl}^ 
that his footsteps were not heard, and the 
redeemed spirit went up to the everlasting 
Sabbath of heaven. So lived and so died the 
model deacon, Henrt G. Davis. 



126 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

XVIII. 

"We Hire by the Year." 

"We hire by the year, sir," said one of 
whom I had made the inquiry when his church 
was to have a pastor settled. " We hir^ by 
the year, and we like it. We are not tied, 
and our preacher can go when he pleases, and 
we can get another when we find one who 
suits us better." 

This was the truth in a nutshell, and it 
put me to thinking, and then to looking round 
me. The first thing I saw was, that at least 
ten churches in one county are at this moment 
"hiring" preachers, instead of having settled 
pastors. The next thing I saw was, to my 
amazement, that my own pastorate had out- 
lived every other one in the county, and that, 
on an average, our churches have had over 
four and a half men to each church during 
this time. And now may I plainly say to our 
churches, that my impressions are, and obser- 
vation confirms the impressions, that this sys- 



"WE HIRE BY THE YEAR." 127 

tem of "hiring preaching" will, in the results, 
bo very pernicious to our churches, and not 
less so to the ministers. 
; Tlie system degrades the ministry. 
' "We hire our preachers by the year," 
and so I hire my man. At the end of the 
year he may leave, and has left several times 
before the j^ear was out, hoping to get higher 
wages. So may your preacher do. He is 
merely a "hireling," in the same sense that 
the man hires out his two hands. When the 
Jewish priest was "ordained of men," it was 
during all the years of his service ; and when 
Titus was directed to "ordain elders in every 
city," nobody thinks it was to create a circu- 
lating ministry, to be hired from time to time. 
Is it right, is it comely, is it honoring those 
who are "set over" our churches, to place 
the office on a level with the hired help of the 
farmer, the tanner, and the street-cleaner? 
Many of these men who thus preach, have far 
less wages than mechanics whom I know, who 
are hired in the same way. Is it not de- 
grading the office of the Christian ministry in 
the eyes of your children and of the com- 



128 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

munity ? The ministers feel it if the churches 
do n't. 

This system prevents tJie power of sympathy, 
a great poicer in the pastoral office. 

One of the things that gives the pastor 
power, is the strong attachment between him 
and his people. He loves them, and they and 
their children love him, confide in him, com- 
mit their secrets to him, and ask his advice 
on points the most important, and yet confi- 
dential. He is the friend, the adviser, the 
sympathizer of all. They feel that his destiny 
and happiness are bound up with theirs. Next 
to the bosom of Christ, they lean on him, and 
next to Christ they tell him all their trials 
and sorrows. In a few years the young look 
to him with the reverence of children. Now, 
suppose he is "hired" for a year, and that is 
the longest period I have ever heard of as to 
the bargain, how cautious will he be not to 
love his people too well, and how cautious will 
they be not to become too strongly attached 
to him. The}^ know that permanency is im- 
possible, and they will not become attached 
to him. 



"WE HIRE BY THE YEAR." 129 

This system tends to make both parties un- 
easy. 

All who know human nature and who have 
o])served closely, know that the great tempta- 
tion of a man in Congress is, to keep looking 
over his shoulder to see how this or that vote 
will strike his constituents. His speeches, his 
voting, his whole course is shaped with ref- 
erence to being continued in office or dropped. 
Now place a preacher in the position of being 
" hired " by the year, and if he is not contin- 
ually looking over his shoulder to see if he 
cannot discover a better place, and if the peo- 
ple are not continually contriving how they 
can get a more popular and people- drawing 
man, then human nature works on new prin- 
ciples. The ship is not moored, only riding 
at easy anchor, and if she sees a prize, how 
easy to slip the cable and be off. The pas- 
toral office, like that of marriage, is appointed 
by Grod, and in sacredness comes next to the 
marriage relation. Let husbands and wives 
act on this principle, and society will be in 
ruins within a single generation. If you say 
the system will make the preacher more care- 

6* 



130 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

ful, more anxious to please, lest he be turned 
off at the end of the year, I reply, "We do n't 
want him to have that temptation. We do n't 
want him to be tempted to be a sycophant, 
any more than a wandering star. Our church- 
es have no right to place either temptation 
before their ministers. 

This system will inevitably make a weak min- 
istry. 

Let a man in any profession, in any busi- 
ness, be always hegiiming, and he will never 
accomplish much. A young preacher goes to 
a place, and he knows from the very atmos- 
phere and the terms of the bargain, that his 
stay there will be short. Probably he is in 
debt for his education. He has no capital in 
money, in character, in influence : he has these 
to make. Now he is morally certain that he 
can only barely make a beginning here. He 
can't make book-cases, buy books, create a 
library, gather materials, fix his home, for he 
is only "hired." What can he do with his 
books, if he tries to draw from the reservoir 
of thought which is created and ready for 
him ? He cannot arrange them in his book- 



"WE HIRE BY THE YEAR." 131 

cases made with his own hands, as I and many 
others have done all our professional life, nor 
think with comfort about removing the heavy 
things when he removes. He is only a ' ' hired " 
sojourner, and is soon to take up his bed and 
walk. He has hardly made a beginning for 
himself or his people, before he must go some- 
where else, and begin again. And thus the 
poor man is all his life beginning, and won- 
dering why he has not grown more and be- 
come more. If our churches want to dwarf 
the ministry, and keep us as a kind of sacred 
apprentices, this is the way to do it, and this 
will surely be the result. No man can be 
expected to study and think, if he is to go to 
a new place shortly, and go over the same 
ground again. 

This system wrongfully withholds from the 
ministry a great moral power. 

There is no influence like that of " charac- 
ter," and to have that you must give time for 
its growth. Every man knows that there is 
an indescribable power in the pastor, which 
no other man can have. Hear him •pray for 
his flock, meet him in the pra3'er-meeting, 



132 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

meet him in the ecclesiastical council, and 
you will feel it. His people know that the 
man who has sustained himself for many years 
as their teacher, must and does know them 
through and through, that he must and does 
desire their highest interests ; and he has great 
moral power. No other man in the town be- 
gins to have this. It is the power of charac- 
ter. You may plant the best tree in the nur- 
sery, but if you remove it once a year, or 
once in two years, every removal checks its 
growth, or puts it back and dwarfs it, because 
it is not in accordance with the laws of nature ; 
and it is equally in violation of all moral laws, 
that a circulating ministry shall have the moral 
power of the pastor. God's ministers are too 
poor and too dependent on their people, and 
too much in their hands, to have any source 
of influence shut off. You wrench from us a 
mighty power for good, when you take from 
us the crook of the shepherd. The sheep 
hear no other voice as they hear his. 

This system tempts the preacher to flee in 
a time oJ^trouUe. 

It is letting out no family secret, when I 



"WE HIRE BY THE YEAR." 133 

say that there arc times when winds rise and 
storms come in almost every parish, before 
which none but a pastor can stand. The tree 
needs all the roots which it has been fasten- 
ing in the soil for years, in order to stand. I 
could speak of many, many cases, where noth- 
ing would have availed to hold the ship, but 
the strong cable that took years to make. I 
could mention an old minister whose pastor- 
ate was very long, who once found himself 
shut out of his church for six weeks. For 
six weeks he went every Sabbath morning to 
his closed church; his people .shut his mouth 
every Sabbath, and the grace of God enabled 
him to shut it the rest of the week. The wind 
went over, the calm followed, and he went on 
in his labors as if nothing had happened — to 
the great delight and admiration and benefit 
of his people. They were always grateful to 
him for it. How few of these hired preachers 
could have stood thus. It is a grievous wrong 
to place us in a position from which we are 
tempted to flee when a storm rises, or "the 
people are moved " to flee because we see "a 
wolf coming." You may call us " stated sup- 



134 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

plies," but we can't supply the place of tlie 
pastor. You may call us "acting pastors," 
but it is '' acting ^^ and not heing the pastor. 
We can lay no plans to train up the rising 
generation, and make our church a theological 
school, for we cannot expect to be there long, 
and our successor can hardly be expected to 
take up the thread where we dropped it. I 
feel that our churches are doing themselves 
harm beyond all that I can describe, in thus 
degrading and paralyzing the ministry. 

One word to my brethren in the ministry. 
My dear brethren, there is no need of this 
state of things. Ministers are scarce, and are 
growing scarcer. You need not, and ought 
not to be placed in this position. You can, 
and ought to be settled as regular and perma- 
nent pastors. 

"But can't something be said on the other 
side?" Undoubtedly. I could say many things, 
but I feel sure it would be wrong to say them, 
because it would be doing that which would 
encourage a practice that already threatens 
to weaken the "stakes," and shorten the 
" cords " of 'he tents of Zion. 



PllEACHING TO CHILDREN. 135 

XIX. 

Preaching to Children. 

If I have any good judgment on the sub- 
ject, it has led me to attempt to preach to 
children as seldom as possible. It is, in my 
estimation, the most difficult of all pulpit prep- 
arations and pefrormances. I have heard of 
men who attempted to preach to children 
every Sabbath the year round. I may be 
mistaken, but I don't believe the man is living 
who can long sustain himself in this attempt. 
I would, at all hazards, rather undertake to 
preach to the same number of doctors of divin- 
ity, and that is saying the thing very strongly. 
In order to address children successfully, the 
speaker must be at the right age, in the right 
position, and in the right circumstances. My 
own early volume of "Lectures to Children" 
was preached extempore first, in a revival in. 
which the children were especially interested, 
and each one written out immediately after I 
had returned from the meeting. That is what 



136 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

I mean b}^ "right position and right circum- 
stances." Children do n't reason logically, or 
judge of a speaker as we do, but their moral 
instincts are as quick as a flash, and a speaker 
can tell by the time he has uttered two sen- 
tences,, whether he can command their atten- 
tion. There is a sort of mesmerism about the 
thiiig, and if you can't put your sympathies 
into communication with theirs, it is all over. 
You may beat the bush as hard as you please, 
but you will raise no bird. You may shout, 
but there will be no echo. 

Now to answer two questions. 

1. How to gain the attention of children. 

Probably no rules or teaching would ena- 
ble some men to do it. 

Use simple Avords. They should not be 
babyish, namby-pamby, but plain, short, and 
terse Anglo-Saxon. Say "God," and not the 
"Divinity;" "the Bible," and not "the in- 
spired book;" "sin," and not "the transgres- 
sion of the Divine law," and the like. If you 
happen to use a great word don't undertake 
to explain and define it, telling them the 
"summary of religion" is "equivalent to 



PEEACHING TO CHILDREN. 137 

and synonymous with, synopsis of revela- 
tion." 

Let your sentences be short and simple, 
not involved, not strung along with several 
thoughts. You may condense to almost any 
extent all that you have to say, but you may 
not spin out. 

Begin without preface, or explanation, or 
apology. Strike right into what you have. 
If you have any meal in your sack, do n't be 
a long while in untying the strings, or saying 
3^ou wish the quality was better, or that some- 
bodj^'s sack besides yours had been opened 
first. Be self- possessed, and very slow and 
deliberate. Some speakers know they can 
command the attention of the children but a 
short time, and that they have much to say, 
and so they speak as fast as possible, and 
hope they have communicated much. They 
might as well take a great pitcher of water 
and pour a great stream into the mouth of a 
very small-necked bottle, hoping that the bot- 
tle fills up in proportion to the size of the 
stream. Xine-tenths, at least, runs over, and 
very little gets into the bottle. They should 



138 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

have poured very slowly, and made the stream 
very small. It is any thing but wise to try to 
see how much you can say and communicate, 
or how many anecdotes you can tell, in a 
given time. The question is not how much 
food can be crowded down, but how much can 
be digested. 

Be short. No address, unless the circum- 
stances are very peculiar, should be over 
fifteen, or at most twenty minutes in length. 
Children can't give their attention, undivid- 
ed, longer than that. All beyond is "bat- 
tering down on their heads," as Eowland 
Hill says of a third sermon on the Sabbath. 
Some keep on talking, in the vain hope that 
they can soon say a smart thing and then 
stop. Such fish are hard to catch. Waiting 
for such results is like trying to beat into a 
harbor when the wind is ahead. You get near 
enough to hear the bells ring, but it seems as 
if you would never get in. Most tedious 
speeches are really far more intolerable by the 
•strong effort made to stop at a very smart place. 

2. What are the best aids in preparing one's 
self for this service? 



PREACHING TO CHILDREN. 139 

No satisfactory or definite answer can be 
given to this question. You want certain 
natural endowments, such as a good sound 
judgment, a correct taste, a nice sensibility, a 
susceptibility to what is beautiful, appropri- 
ate, and especially what will illustrate and 
make simple. You want to know what thought 
you wish to communicate and illustrate. The 
illustration should be for the thought, and not 
the speech for the illustration. We don't 
give pills for the sake of the sugar with which 
they are coated. We do n't build a ship for 
the sake of the bunting she wears. The chil- 
dren know as quick as j^ou do whether the 
speech is made for the illustration and anec- 
dotes, or whether they arc for the speech. 
You may draw from any and every source in 
nature. I have sometimes found a leaf that 
dropped at my feet, or the darting of a swal- 
low around me while on the way to the meet- 
ing, all the illustration I wanted, or had time to 
use. The fresher the thought and illustration 
in your own mind the better. You want 
to be a full man ; not in the sense of having 
your head filled with anecdotes and stories, 



140 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

but in the sense of having power to draw 
illustrations from every thing. The preach- 
ing of Christ was inimitably beautiful in this 
respect. You need a good memory, to retain 
and recall your knowledge. In giving facts 
and anecdotes, do n't amplify and dress them 
out. They are more effective to be simple 
and as accurate as possible. As to reading, 
books, etc., you cannot read for the purpose 
of gathering materials. That would be like a 
dj^speptic drawing his strength from the last 
meal he ate, and if that happened to be tur- 
nips, his strength would have the weakness of 
turnips. You must save as you read, and not 
read to gather. Perhaps the greatest treas- 
ure you could have to draw from, next to the 
Bible, would be a full file of some good relig- 
ious paper, extending through many years, 
and the longer the better. This will be 
a pond almost inexhaustible. Each volume 
should be bound or sewed by itself, with a 
good index at the end. Few have any con- 
ception of the amount of valuable thought 
which lies buried in such a file of old papers. 
Sometimes you have a thought which yon 



PREACHING TO CHILDREN. 141 

wish to impress, and you have no illustration, 
and you go off and find one — just as a man 
who is building, and wants a particular stick 
of timber, drops all and goes off to the forest, 
and cuts down his tree, notches and scores it, 
and brings it home and fits it in. It may do 
well, but he has lost much time, and all the 
workmen have stood still while he was do- 
ing it. 

Lastly, you must love children, and they 
must feel that you do, and that you are try- 
ing to do them good, and have not a single 
thought about yourself while speaking. You 
need to be warm, earnest, sincere, kind, and 
affectionate ; not coming down, but speaking 
as you do because you are down when you 
begin. Wear the smile of love on your face, 
because love has first filled your heart. 



U2 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 



XX. 

Palingenesia. 

In some of our papers there is a monthly 
list of patents taken out at Washington. If 
one has not been in the habit of reading this 
list, he is surprised at their number. And if 
he does read them, he is surprised to see how 
few ever come into use, and become a bless- 
ing to the world. Perhaps not one in a hun- 
dred ever comes into practical use. And let 
any one visit the Patent of&ce, and see the 
models of stoves, machines of every shape and 
form, of wheels and their cogs, guns, and of 
every conceivable and inconceivable thing, 
even to the rat and mouse trap, and he won- 
ders why some of these stoves can't cook with- 
out fuel, these wheels move without power 
applied, or why there should be a rat or a 
mouse left in all the land. It is an age of 
quick thinking, of inventions innumerable, and 
of patents for every thing. Our horses work 
in patent harnesses, our oxen iu patent yokes, 



PALINGENESIA. 143 

our bees iu patent hives, and our mice die in 
patent traps. These labor-saving plans and 
machinery are applied to every thing. 

Now is it to be wondered at that we want 
to carry machinery, or at least, human inven- 
tions into religion, and use a sort of spiritual 
chloroform, by which we can walk in paths 
easier than the old ones? The word at the 
head of these remarks may seem hard to the 
reader, but it can't be harder than the thing 
that it means, namely, the new hirth, seems to 
many. If there is one thing which Christ has 
laid down in language too plain to be misun- 
derstood, too clearly to be denied, too solemn- 
ly- to be neglected, it is the necessity of the 
palingenesia, or "new birth," in order to be 
saved. The same truth is recognized again 
and again by the apostles. Now how is the 
matter arranged so that men may get through 
this change easily, and be in the kingdom be- 
fore they know it ? 

Some make the new birth to mean leaving 
Judaism and becoming a Christian. As if 
the Master in Israel needed solemn assurance 
that no Jew could be saved, and that he 



144 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

could not be a Jew and a Christian at the 
same time. 

Some make the new birth to mean a reso- 
lution to come to Christ. The sinner is ex- 
horted to come at once to Christ — is told how 
willing and ready he is to receive him, and 
that he has but to " will it, and he is a Chris- 
tian." It do n't seem to be necessary for the 
sinner to feel his sins, to know any thing 
what the law requires of him, and what is the 
amount of his guilt, nothing of the enmity of 
his heart towards God, to see and know what 
he has done, but only to "resolve to come to 
Christ." These disciples never go to school 
to Moses for a single day. They have no 
knowledge of Saul's three days' darkness, of 
the sword which pricked the hearts of all the 
converts on the day of Pentecost, or of such 
agony as David felt in his bones. They 
escape all this, and consequently have no 
heart-aches to feel, no agonies of spirit to 
drive them to Christ. They are assured that 
all this is unnecessary. The law is no longer 
a school-master to lead to Christ. The new 
birth is only stepping on the spiritual plat- 



PALINGENESIA. 145 

form, and saying, "Here I am. I am now 
going to be a Christian." 

"Sure such have no feelings like me,- 
Nor know themselves wretched and lost." 

If tlicrc is any experience in such cases, it is 
superficial and light. It does not go into the 
very soul. I am afraid to see such converts, 
and have seen quite too many of them. It is 
a heavy misfortune to any one to believe that 
this is the new birth. If it be, I have only 
to say that, after it, the man has got to learn 
his own guilt and vileness, and see his heart 
as he never saw it before. 

Some try to get through the new birth by 
getting rid of sin, and bringing in holiness 
little by little, and gradually growing better 
and doing better. Like an old painter who 
painted a great and high mountain with a man 
at the foot swinging his pickaxe, and saying, 
"2>^u a peu" "little by little;" the difficulty 
seems to be, the mountain grows up faster 
than we dig it down. It is too great a work 
for a human being to do. As years pass, and 
tlie man outgrows this and that sin of youth 
and of carl}' life, he fancies that he chose to 

7 



146 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

drop it, and is really growing good, though 
conscious that he has taken up other sins in 
the place of such as he has left behind. Age 
often congratulates itself because it has cast 
out some evil spirits, and taken in others ; as 
when the man ceases to be unchaste, that his 
heart may be filled with covetousness. 

It is a favorite method to sneer at the 
strictness of your ancestors, to ridicule the 
catechism which was wrought into the old 
Puritan character, to sneer at the old doc- 
trines of the cross, and to glory in having a 
religion so much easier to obtain, the cross so 
much easier to carry, the new birth so easy 
to experience. These doughty champions of 
modern improvement in religion, are so de- 
lighted to strike the mother who bore them, 
that they remind one of the man, who, after a 
free drink, came bounding out of the house, ^ 
crying, "There, I have done it; I have whipped 
granimother, and she over eighty years old!'' 
The religion of many seems to consist in the 
hard things they can say, and the hard flings 
they can have, at the theology of their fathers. 
They are small beings, kicking dead lions. 



PALINGENESIA. U7 

There is another way of getting over this 
new birth easil}', and that is, to leave tlie 
denomination of your fathers, glow with admi- 
ration and zeal, scorn the state of darkness 
you were in, and feel sure that now you have 
truly been "born again." Such conversions 
are often very sudden, and produce a self- 
complacency and a zeal, and a taking-on of 
airs, quite astonishing to the beholder. We 
who arc left behind, too stupid or too old- 
fashioned to pass through this palingenesia, 
are comforted by being told that we are in a 
state of schism and darkness, and uncovenant- 
ed mercy. Ah, me, how we should stand ter- 
ror-smitten, if we saw these converts from our 
faith growing in a knowledge of the Scrip- 
tures, manifesting as hearty a desire to be rid 
of sin as to shake off the darkness which sur- 
rounded their father and mother. They take 
poper}" in homeopathic doses, but it has the 
ilavor of the distillery in which it was made. 
But we do have some comfort in the darkened 
state in which we arc left; we do know that 
when one of our ministers drops into the gar- 
den, it is usually because the stem is so weak 



148 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

that the fruit cannot hang on longer; and 
when our private members are thus convert- 
ed, it is usually those who do not abound in 
strength of intellect. There is a screw loose 
before the machine begins to run wild. Our 
sorrow is not for our loss, for that is usually 
far less than is supposed ; but to see the chil- 
dren and the grandchildren of godly ancestors 
run into delusions, and think they are born of 
the Spirit and are safe. 

My own experience, and the observation 
of life, lead me to say to my reader, that if he 
has a good, Scriptural hope that he has expe- 
rienced "the new birth," then. 

He has been, and is sensible, and deeply 
so, that he is a depraved, ruined, lost sinner ; 
and that, if lost eternally, it would be no more 
than he deserves. 

That he never has done any thing that can 
recommend him to the mercy of Christ. 

That if he is converted from sin, it has 
been done not by himself, but by the agency 
of the Holy Spirit. 

That he will ever feel that he is depend- 
ent on the blood of Christ for salvation. 



PALINGENESIA. 149 

That his strongest evidence that he is born 
again is, not that he is good, or is growing 
good, or is dropping this and that sin, or is 
growing wise, or is leaving the communion of 
his fathers, but that he looks to Christ, keeps 
"looking" at him, and looking to him alone 
for salvation. Sovereign mercy alone. 



loO HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

XXI. 

The Young Man's Lettei^ 

I AM not unfrequeiitly lionored with letters 
from young men: some making one inquiry, 
and some another ; some hanging on one horn 
of one difficulty, and some on another. My 
replies to them are often, from necessity, very 
brief. Now and then one seems to demand a 
more full reply, lest an opportunity of real 
usefulness should be lost. Such a letter is 
now lying before me, and it belongs to a class 
of the same kind. After assuring me that 
"he is not an infidel," the writer adds, "I 
know not what is the object of man's exist- 
ence. The Bible tells us that it is to repent 
and believe on Jesus Christ; but I cannot 
make this harmonize with my reason. The 
question continually arises in my mind, and 
repels the idea contained in the Scriptures : 
Would God, a loving Father, endowed with 
all power, place mortals upon this earth and 
allow them to be miserable, wh-Mi by a look 



THE YOUNG MAN'S LETTER. 151 

he could make tlieiii happy? Will you an- 
swer this question for me?" etc. 

Now, m}^ young friend, unknown entirely, 
will you just sit down and let me talk with 
you a few minutes? Probably you never saw 
so much of your composition in print before ; 
but don't be too much elated. Your ideas 
are any thing but original ; for you must 
know, 

In the first place, that almost every young 
man has to go through a short period of doubt- 
ing and trying to be an infidel. It seems to 
be almost inseparable from a certain condition 
in coming into mental puberty, through which 
all must pass. Yours is nothing but a very 
common case, and most likely will shortly 
pass off. You will never be so wise, or have 
a mind that can so grasp any thing short of 
infinite again, as now. The young bird prob- 
abl}^ never feels that he can soar so high as 
when he first discovers that he has wings. 

In the second place, allow me to say that 
I have never known a man continue sceptical 
a long time, who had not somewhere a shallow 
spot in his menial organization. There is 



152 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

some screw loose ; and if you meet with sucli 
men, jo\x will alwaj^s find them unbalanced in 
judgment, and showing decided marks of weak- 
ness. They are not the men in whose judg- 
ment the community confide ; and for this 
reason, that the revelation of Grod is such, 
and the teachings of his word are such, that a 
balanced mind, like Bacon's or Newton's, can 
never be sceptical. 

In the third place, your not being able to 
make facts undeniable. agree with your reason, 
is no new thing. The poor Indians to whom 
Eliot preached had the same trouble, and 
made the same statements, only in far better 
language than you have done. I have heard 
of a great many who attemjDted to "square 
the circle," or to "discover perpetual mo- 
tion," or to "find the jDhilosopher's stone," or 
to explain the mysteries of Grod's government 
by the aid of human reason ; but I have never 
been so fortunate as to find the man who could 
do either of these. You have probably been 
an inhabitant of this world less than twenty 
years, and I suppose you would not pretend 
that for the first fifteen years jonr reason had 



THE YOUNG MAN'S LETTER. 153 

very great power; and I have strong sus- 
picions that even now it is not competent to 
sit in judgment upon phms which must, from 
the very nature of things, take all time, and 
no small part of eternity, to execute. " Great 
is the Lord, and his understanding is infinite." 
Let me tell j'ou a short story. 

"Old Jocko " and " Little Imp " were two 
favorite monkeys that went to sea in the good 
ship Enterprise, Captain Munger. Now, this 
captain had the name of being a first-rate sea- 
man, a man of fine powers of mind, upright, 
and a very good man. Old Jocko was an old 
companion, and Little Imp was a new comer. 
They had the liberty of the ship, and were a 
great amusement to the sailors. One day, 
just at night, old Jocko found Imp high up on 
the 3^ard-arm, holding on for very life, pale, 
hungry, and cold. 

"Halloa, Imp; what are you doing up 
there?" cries Jocko. "You have been there 
all day ; and you look cold and hungry. Why 
do n't yon come down ?" 

"Why, Jocko, I believe I sha'n't come 
down any more." 

7* 



154 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

" Indeed ; what 's the matter now ? What 
flea has got into your ear? Why wont you 
come down ?" 

"Because I have lost all confidence in 
Captain Munger. I 've been watching him all 
day, and my 7'eason tells me that if he were a 
good man he would never do as he has done 
to-day." 

"Well, you six-months-old fellow, what 
has he done so revolting to your reason ?" 

"I will tell you: this morning early he 
stopped the ship and shifted the cargo and 
threw her almost over, so that many hogsheads 
of molasses, and many casks of something else, 
rolled into the sea and were lost." 

"What else, Little Imp?" 

"Then after the ship was righted, he sent 
a man up into the rigging when the wind 
blew — I could hardly cling to the ropes and 
hold myself on — and the man was thrown off 
and fell on the deck almost killed. He lay 
pale, and they said that the thing called 
"pulse" stopped entirely. His eyes were 
closed, and the cold sweat was on his face. 
And what did this captain then do? Why, 



THE YOUNG MAN'S LETTER. 155 

he ran down into the cabin and brought up a 
tumbler of red, fiery stuff, and actually forced 
the poor fellow's jaws open and poured it all 
down his throat. Now, would a good man 
do so ?" 

" Are 3'ou through ?" 

"No. There was that great dog, Nero; 
the dog that all the sailors loved so much — 
only he looidd chase us monkeys. Poor Nero ; 
the captain had him drawn up by a great rope, 
and then with a great, roaring gun, shot him 
dead. How the sailors felt ! Many of them 
cried. Was that goodness?" 

"Any thing more?" 

"Yes: Tom Hawser was showing a little 
wound on his arm, and what does our precious 
captain do but whip out his jack-knife and cut 
the wound much larger. Oh how it bled ! It 
really frightened me." 

"Have you done?" 

"Yes; and 1 should think that w^as quite 
enough. I can never have any more confi- 
dence in Captain Munger. My reason tells 
that a wise and a good man would never 
do so." 



156 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

"Little Imp, liow old are you?" 
"Why, I've seen six moons, and am al- 
most as high as your shoulders.'' 

" Well, now let me talk a little. You must 
know, then, Oh wise one, that the ship had ' 
sprung a leak, and we were all in danger of 
sinking; and to get at the leak and stop it 
and save the cargo and the lives, Captain 
Munger had to careen the ship on her side 
and lose a few hogsheads, rather than to lose 
all the cargo. Was that wrong? Then the 
man sent up into the rigging. A sudden 
squall came on, and the sails must be furled 
instantl}^, or the ship swamped; and all the 
men had to go aloft. One was blown off; but 
the ship escaped. The man was almost kill- 
ed ; and being 'ready to perish,' the captain 
did pour doAvn raw brandy, which brought 
back life and pulse, and the man is now in the 
good captain's berth, carefully nursed, and 
will live. Was that a bad deed ?" 

" No ; but his shooting poor Nero ?" 
"Well, Nero has been sick for two days, 
and you remember he was bitten by a strange 
dog just before we sailed, and so he was tied 



THE YOUNG MAN'S LETTER. 157 

np with that rope ; but to-day he has shown 
such signs of madness, that the captain had to 
kill him. The sailors cried ; but all saw the 
necessity." 

" You 've a strange way, Jocko, of explain- 
ing things. What about his cutting poor Tom 
Hawser's arm so dreadfully ? How can you 
account for such cruelty ?" 

" Yery easily. As Tom was pulling Nero 
up, the dog bit his arm, and the captain knew 
that unless something was done instantly, Tom 
must have awful sufferings and die with hydro- 
phobia — the most horrible death ; and so he 
cut out the poison with his knife. Now, Lit- 
tle Imp, you see your 'reason' a'n't big enough 
to comprehend and judge as to what Captain 
Hunger does, and so you had better leave 
your cold perch and come down and eat your 
supper, and not doubt but the captain knows 
what he is about, even if you do n't." 



158 niNTS AND THOUGHTS. 

XXII. 

The Old Folks at Home. 

CajS" my reader, witli his tenacious mem- 
ory, tell me the first time lie heard "the old 
folks" spoken of? I wonder what they did 
for "old folks" in the days before the flood, 
when a man at one hundred was a mere boy — 
a ten-year-old boy! When no young lady 
could get through her education and be intro- 
duced into society till she was one hundred 
and seventy-five at least! When no one could 
be numbered with "the old folks" under six 
hundred or six hundred and fifty years ! Did 
"the old folks" appear then as they now do? 
Did they feel as they now do? How did Me- 
thuselah and his wife feel and talk as they sat 
down together and looked backward and for- 
ward? Doubtless very much as "the old 
folks" now feel and talk. 

One of the beautiful arrangements of our 
heavenly Father is seen in the fact that every 
period, infancy, childhood, youth, manhood, 



THE OLD FOLKS AT HOME. 159 

and ago, has a golden charm attached to it. 
Each phase is different from the rest, and it 
is hardly possible to say which is most beau- 
tiful. The beauty, the grace, the sunshine, 
the early morning chatter of young children, 
always awakens the most delightful emotions. 
The mischievousness and the restlessness, the 
magnifying every thing seen and heard, and 
the sweet credulity of childhood! the opening 
new worlds of vision, the rising up from the 
ground of untold air castles, the rainbow hopes 
leaping from the chambers of the imagination 
of youth! the sight of the parents in the re- 
fnicd home, watching over and training up 
their large family of children, each one need- 
ing a distinct discipline and training! and then 
the silver, thoughtful, almost silent and soli- 
tary days of the aged pair! which is most 
beautiful? I cannot decide. 

I am now thinking of an aged couple who 
are called "the old folks," who have lived 
together, husband and wife, in the same house,, 
over fifty years. They came there young, san- 
guine, and utterlj^ unable to conceive what 
they would pass through in fifty 3'ears. They 



160 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

liave reared carefully, and properly educated, 
a large family of cliildren. These have all 
gone from them now, have families of their 
own, and are filling each an important place 
in society, and some of them high posts of in- 
fluence. They are all members of Christ's 
church in the order of their parents. And so 
"the old folks" are left alone — just as they 
started in life. They have long worn glasses ; 
but at the hour of family worship they take 
each a Bible and read in course alternately 
two verses — just as they did when they read 
with their children. Then they sing the old 
hymns, though the voices are not so sweet, 
nor the tones so clear and full as formerly. 
They live, it is plain from incidental remarks, 
in the past, the present, and the future. There 
are certain things that they seldom speak of 
even to one another. They keep all the play- 
things which their children once used — osten- 
sibly for their grandchildren when they come 
to visit them ; but the forms that they see 
playing with them are those of their own dear 
children, who have gone from them, but who 
left their image in their memory. The little 



THE OLD FOLKS AT HOME. 161 

books, aud even the little shoes, of their bright 
and early dead, are carefully laid up; and 
though they never sj^eak of them, each knows 
that they are precious mementoes of the past. 
But to sec how careful they are of each 
other! The fires of passion have all burned 
out, the beauty and freshness of life have all 
passed away, and the rich harvests of Time 
have all been garnered. But no lovers could 
be more tender towards each other. If either 
is absent, the time is anxiously measured till 
the return ; and the footstep on the threshold 
may not be elastic as it returns, yet the ear 
that hears it and the heart that hears it are 
awake. They seem to understand each oth- 
er's thoughts without words, and each feels 
that life would not be life without the other. 
They think over the past much and often, and 
realize that they have together toiled, and 
toG;ether strusG-led and shared all the burdens 
and sorrows of life. Every memory of the 
past is equally vivid to each. They don't say 
much about their separation — so certain — to 
leave one or the other so desolate ; but it is 
plain they think much about it ; and from 



1G2 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

hints occasionally dropped, it is evident that 
each is contriving and planning how the other 
can be made comfortable when thus left alone, 
each expecting to be the first to die. 

And when they think of the future, even 
carrying their thoughts into heaven, they seem 
to have an unexpressed fear that heaven will 
not Tbe all they desire, if they can there be to 
each other nothing more than old acquaintan- 
ces. It seems as if they must carry something 
of the tender feeling which the sorrows and the 
experience of life have given them, into that 
world, and as if they must go hand in hand for 
ever. And the thought that they must soon 
separate, and that the one must be left to walk 
alone in the rooms, sit alone at the old table, 
kneel alone at the altar of Grod, go alone to 
the house of the Lord, gives an inexpressible 
tenderness to their treatment of each other. 
They never, even in the dnjs of youthful 
courtship, lived more in each other's thoughts 
than now. Time hath covered the rough 
places of life, over which they have walked ; 
and years have healed the wounds they have 
suffered, leaving only scars ; but the rough 



THE OLD FOLKS AT HOME. 1G3 

winds of life have only bowed their heads, 
and you see not the sturdy oak, but the soft, 
weeping willow. Memory brings up pictures 
of the past, some of them recalling sorrows 
heavy as humanity can bear, but mellows 
them down in her own golden light; and Hope 
comes still, not to sing of earth, as she once 
did, but of heaven, and the ever-opening 
future. And Faith^ showing nothing to tlie 
eye, contrives to exert her power over them 
b}" mingling her voice in the songs of Hope ! 

They will not be with each other long; 
but while they do live, no part of their life 
has been more full of tender regard, genuine 
respect, unaffected kindness, or deeper love. 
The young world can't understand "the old 
folks ;" but for myself, I never go into their 
dwelling without seeing some of the most 
purified, refined, and exalted traits of human 
nature, Avhich to me are inimitably beautiful. 
And if what I have said shall lead my reader 
to feel more kindly towards those who are all 
around us known as "the old folks," I shall 
have gained my object in writing. 



164: HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 



XXIII. 

Philarguria. 
" For Ihe love of money is the root of all evil." " 1 Tim. 6 : 10. 

The early chemists tried Lard to discover 
two tilings : first, a method by which they 
could turn every thing into gold — forgetting 
that if the}^ could do it, gold would have no 
more value than pebbles ; and second, a uni- 
versal solvent that would dissolve every thing 
and any thing^ — forgetting that if they could 
do it, they could find no vessel to hold the 
liquid. 

That which conies nearest to a universal 
solvent, is money, in some shape. It is not 
necessary that it be in the shape of coin, sil- 
ver or gold. It may be in the form of dia- 
monds and jewels, or notes equivalent to 
money and received for money. In the days 
of the apostles, it was principally in the shape 
of silver, and therefore "silver-loving,'' {i^hi- 
larguria,) is called "the root of all evil." Per- 
haps it would be more curious than profitable 



PHILARGURIA. 165 

to attcini)t to analyze the feeling ^Yllicll we 
call love of money. It certainly has nothing 
to do with the beauty of the treasure, for the 
idol is very often in the shape of well-thumbed 
notes, or worn bonds and mortgages. There 
is nothing of the brightness of silver or gold 
about it. The image of the miser opening and 
gloating over his chest full of gold, has no 
realit}^ If he kept it in his chest, he would 
see nothing but bags. Bonds and mortgages 
are far more beautiful to him than real gold. 
He does not want to gloat over metallic treas- 
ures. 

The strongest, deepest passion of the human 
soul is love of power. Bear this in mind. The 
essence of money-loving seems to be, that 
money gives you the feeling of power, and 
that constant!}'. The possessor rides in a 
crippled old wagon, but he feels that he might 
ride in a coach if he pleased. He passes by 
your beautiful dwelling — not caring for it, be- 
cause he knows he can buy ten like it if he 
chooses. The coach rolls past him and dis- 
turbs him not, for he feels conscious that he 
might have a score of men in livery about 



1G6 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

liim, if lie cliose. Feeling that tlie tailor 
would in a moment, at his bidding, prepare 
the best garments to be had, is better to him 
than to have the clothes, and so he wears his 
old garments. Reading the advertisement of 
the lordly mansion to be sold, and feeling that 
he could own it in an hour if he pleased, 
is far better to him than to own it. Feeling 
that he could own a whole street, gives a 
sense of power, without the trouble of owning, 
as really as if he owned it all. He can live 
in a poor house, wear poor clothing, eat poor 
food very contentedly, since he knows he has 
an agent at hand, which can at any day give 
him the grandest and the best. This conscious 
power is to him a higher joy than to have 
these things. It makes him feel that he car- 
ries a silent power that is almost superhuman. 
It seems to cut him loose from dependency, 
and make him almost divine. And every 
accumulation, every increase of money, in- 
creases this feeling. Hence the man becomes 
a slave to an idea, a v/orshipper of a power 
which he has no thought of ever exercising. 
He keeps a hungry magician shut away from 



PHILARGUEIA. 167 

human sight, wlioiii he feeds with the life of 
his own soul, simply because, if he should 
w^ant the magician to wave his wand, he could 
make him do it. He keeps the river dammed 
up, and lets the waters stagnate, while they 
accumulate, and the pond grows larger, be- 
cause of the feeling that if he chose, he could 
let out those waters in a power that would 
carry any number of mills, or clothe millions 
in new and warm garments. Hence the love 
of money is only another form of love of powder, 
and it takes deep hold of the human soul, and 
touches the same springs that our first mother 
felt when she desired to be as gods. 

It is power, this money. If you want pleas- 
ure, any appetite gratified, any passion minis- 
tered to, money will do it. If you want any 
comfort within human reach, money will give 
it. If you W'aiit luxuries, thousands of hands 
will toil, and the skill of your generation is 
at your command. The ships will bring you 
splendors, and all climes will respond to your 
orders. If you want standing fimong men, 
money will admit you into the courts of kings, 
and into the bowers of queens. If you want 



1G8 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

influence, you know that if you have money 
enough, you can make Wall-street tremble as 
you walk. You feel that you can open or 
shut, and no man resist. ' ' I can in one month 
shut up every factory of this article in the 
land," said a great manufacturer to me. Is 
not this power and influence ? The high-priests 
of mammon are a mighty power in every civ- 
ilized land. They command the markets, con- 
trol the rate of interest, decide what men shall 
wear, make food plenty or scarce, make busi- 
ness flourish or droop, or cause a panic that 
shall distress a nation. They move and con- 
trol the floating property already created, and 
the credit and industry that are creating more. 
Every dollar added increases this power. The 
rich is insolent, and the poor is fawning and 
servile, not because they are any different, but 
because one is conscious that he has power, 
and the other, that he has none. Money 
would disqualify any man for being a boot- 
black. I am sorr}^ too, to allow that money 
is becoming the standard of right and wrong ; 
that it is more and more concentrating in 
fewer hands, and that one of our greatest dan- 



PHILARGURIA, 169 

.gers now is, that of having in this nation that 
meanest, most destructive and corrupting of 
all aristocracies, a money aristocracy. 

It is very plain then, is it not, why this 
passion is so strong ? It is latent power. It 
is a great army of reserve. It is unseen 
efficiency. It is the bolts of Jupiter hid away 
in a coarse stocking. It is a direct feeder to 
the ambition of the soul. The same desire of 
power which makes one man a tj^rant or a 
usurper, or a reckless warrior, makes another 
a money-lover. Hence too, the passion is 
universal. It is more than weakness to pre- 
tend that any one is free from this love of 
mone}^ His neighbors would laugh at the 
pretence, and say that if he gives up in the 
race, it 's because he can't run. Let the most 
indifferent to money suddenly inherit an es- 
tate, and see if the passion is not there. We 
should deny the organic laws of human nature, 
to expect any one to be free from it. The 
beggarly elements of this world are the food, 
but it is the infinite, though perverted great- 
ness of the human soul, to which they are 
trying to minister. 

BtnU. 8 



170 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

You will notice how clear, simple, strong, 
and almost terrific are the words of my text, 
" the love of money is the root of all evil" — 
the parent of all sin — mater omnium malorum: 
Schleusner. 

You know something of the cheating that 
is constantly practised among men, so that you 
don't expect full measure in wood that you 
buy, the best quality in the hay or the goods 
you engage, or to have many things as good 
as you bargain for. You say that men cheat 
in horses more than in any thing else. If they 
do, it is simply because it is easier to do it 
than in other things. When you buy a gar- 
ment, or a pair of shoes, you want the testi- 
mony of a careful examination with your own 
eyes superadded to the word of the seller. 
You feel the need of looking after all that you 
deal with. Now this "love of money" is the 
parent of these ten thousand little frauds. 
Don't you know at least several around you 
with whom you would rather not trade ? This 
desire for money has to be met by all the laws 
you can make, by all the courts of justice, and 
all the prisons of the land. How quickly 



PHILARGURIA. 171 

would the land be lilled with lotteries and 
gambling rooms and Sunday sports, if law 
did not come in and interfere between this 
love of money and these/ corrupting methods 
of obtaining it? In all countries where the 
lawmakers are not in advance of the mass 
of the people, lotteries and gambling are un- 
limited, and feed the fires of this passion. 
Gambling houses are called "hells," because 
they call out this love of money, and kindle 
the passion so fast that the man is quickly 
turned into a demon, and a temporary "hell" 
is created. You are not surprised to read that 
government contractors and public servants 
and bank and railroad directors are "default- 
ers" — a soft modern term for high-handed 
villany ; nor that this and that man who had 
great trusts committed to him has absconded, 
carrying with him all that he could obtain. 
You are not surprised to hear that this love 
of money breaks open banks, wrenches off 
locks, bursts open safes, rides on the railroad, 
carries off the treasures of the express, and 
breaks and burns and tears and murders his 
way to money ; mocking at law, setting at de- 



172 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

fiance your care and your bolts, daring your 
l^risons, and laughing at punishment. What 
is the power of that passion which creates at 
least nine-tenths of all the business of our 
courts, and sends at least nine-tenths of all 
our criminals to the penitentiary; that has 
most to do in sending men to the insane asy- 
lum ; which makes a constant warfare between 
crime and justice ; which calls for the revolver 
so often; and which defaces and deforms so 
much of human character ? 

It is this passion that builds the great dis- 
tillery, and keeps the fires glowing day and 
night, regardless and remorseless as to the 
ruin that ilows far and wide in consequence. 
The distiller don't think of the appetite of the 
drunkard, but he does think of the enormous 
profits of his business. So that love of money 
is the direct parent of every distillery in the 
world, and of all the sorrows and crimes 
created by it. 

The theatres which crowd our cities, and 
which are so many illuminated gateways to 
ruin, are built and their actors trained by this 
passion. T^ot for the honor or reputation — 



PHILAEGUEIA. 173 

for virtuous society will for ever exclude 
such — but because money can be made quickly 
and abundantly, do they exist. The question 
is never asked, Will the theatre be for the 
good of the community? or, Will it destroy the 
young? AYill it be a blessing, or a curse? but, 
Will it bring money? The owner of the the- 
atre and the actor care nothing about the 
community any further than as a means of 
making money. It is this love of money 
which builds and makes all the theatres in the 
world what they are ; and hence I only say 
what you all know, when I say the love of 
money is the root of all evil.'=' 

If 3'ou look into families and trace the 
secret workings of the disorders that end in 
separations, allowances, divorces, and ruin, 
you will find that the desire for money is the 
cause far oftener than is usually supposed. 

The piracies on the ocean, to prevent which 
all civilized nations have to join in a continual 

* I see by the papers that in one of our cities, the income of 
about a dozen theatres has been, for six months, but little short of 
seven hundred thousand dollars ; that is, more than one hundred 
thousand, on the average, to each establishment a year. Suppose 
it cost as much to support a dozen churches. Each theatre would 
sustain at least two colleges. 



174 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

patroi of oceans and seas, as is plain, come 
from this love of money. It is easier to steal 
and rob than to earn. So that the love of 
money is the root of all piracies. 

Then the murders that are so frequent, prob- 
ably in eight cases out of ten grow out of the 
same cause. The calendars of our courts, 
were they at hand, would, I feel sure, amaze 
the community by revealing the proportion of 
murders that originate in this love of money. 
Slavery too, with all its evils entailed on 
the master and on the bondman, is caused by 
this master passioR, I am aware that it grati- 
fies the love of power in two waj^s : first, by 
giving the owner of the slave direct control 
over his body and soul ; and secondly, by 
placing all that the slave earns in the hands 
of the master, so that he feels the power which 
money gives ; and when a man has in his hand 
the power which will buy hundreds of men, 
soul and body, and their posterity after them, 
you cannot doubt that he is conscious of his 
power, and must be a wonderful specimen of 
humanity not to be proud and arrogant. Slav- 
ery ministers to this love of power directly 



PHILARGUEIA. 175 

and strongly, and wc arc not surprised at the 
results which have been manifested in our day. 
Slavery grows out of this root directly. 

The same remark wall very nearly apply 
to wars. The friction of commerce and the 
driving of trade gives opportunities for the in- 
fringement of treaties, for the violation of jus- 
tice, for appeals and reprisals, for smuggling 
and concealment, till nations become sore, and 
the result is wars. I am not able, of course, 
to tell the precise proportion of the wars 
which have desolated the earth which might 
be traced back to the love of money 5 but I 
feel sure, a very large proportion. We all 
know that this deep love of money had much 
to do with our late civil war, leaving a history 
that will make the ears of the world to tingle 
for a long time to come. 

The grinding of the poor, the oppression 
of the needy, the bowing down of the feeble, 
the shuffling in bargains, the concealment in 
tax-paying, the strifes at law, and a mass of 
wickedness and crime, are sown broadcast by 
the hand of avarice all over the earth. 

If I am right in these views, you see that 



176 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

the love of money is not the deepest passion 
of the soul ; but is a direct minister to one 
that is deeper — the love of power, the master 
passion of the human soul; and we want money 
to gratify that. I think it is plain that this is 
so, from the fact that this love of power is the 
earliest passion developed in the child, the 
strongest in manhood, and the last that dies, 
even if it does die, in age. We all, the poor 
and the rich, have it; but we are not all 
equally successful in gratifying our desires. 
You can outgrow other sins, wear out animal 
passions, outlive the desire for show and the 
pleasures of life. The old man don't want 
fashions, nor the dance, nor boon companion- 
ship, nor office, nor honors ; but he does want 
money ; that is a power which his feeble hand 
can grasp ; it is a power he can feel. Other 
temptations lose their power, desires fail, oth- 
er sins drop off as you pass along ; but covet- 
ousness never grows cold — avarice is alwaj^s 
j^oung. The old man can't make bargains, 
but he can reckon and rereckon up his inter- 
est, and calculate dividends — Oh how he loves 
to do it over and over — and know just how 



PniLARGURIA. 177 

much he will be worth next year, and five 
3'ears hence. This devil follows the soul and 
engages the thoughts everywhere. In the 
house of God the work goes on ; and I am not 
-lincharitable in fearing that it often follows us 
to the communion-table, and even into the pul- 
pit. Your own conscience will tell you whether 
this is so or not. Every man knows that it 
grows upon him with years, and unless he is 
more than careful, becomes his master. It is 
strong in the soul, even when the hand is too 
feeble to hold the evidence of possession. 

You will wish me, I hope, before I close 
and leave this subject, to say a few words as 
to the REMEDIES to bc used to destroy, or at 
least to counteract this great passion in the 
human soul. 

1. Understand then, that the love of money 
is only something that ministers to a higher 
passion — the love of power, the desire for in- 
dependence, the same thing that turned angels 
into devils, and drove our first parents out of 
Eden. It is the feeling that would dethrone 
God, and cut the creature loose from him. It 

is self-idolatry. The love of money is minis- 
8* 



178 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

teriiig to the strongest passion in any deprav- 
ed being. It is not to be laughed down. It 
has its roots in the deepest places. It is a 
rival, and the rival of your Maker; and the 
contest is, which shall be enthroned in the 
heart and rule your spirit. Will you be a 
Grod, or a subject? And just in proportion as 
you give way to this love of money, you feed 
a conscious power which must separate you 
further and further from God. You don't 
stop at the pile you accumulate. The mighty 
engine that drives you to accumulate so eager- 
ly, lies back of the property — it is that deejD, 
unuttered desire to be powerful as fate, and 
independent as Grod. Money is only the food 
for the dragon that lives deep in the temple, 
and which grows by all that is brought to it. 
To make the soul safe then, the first thing is 
to enthrone Grod in the heart ; he can fill it ; 
and instead of trying to become an independ- 
ent power, you lean upon him. You don't 
feel the need of power. You partake of the 
power of omnipotence. When you have power \ 
given you to become the sons of God, you 
do n't want this creature-power, and you par- 



PniLAKGURIA. 179 

take of the fulness of the Godhead. Cease to 
attempt to work an independent machinery. 
Make God all in all, and this overpowering 
desire for money ceases. You curtail its 
power by bringing the soul into syrajjathy 
with God's great nature and plans and ar- 
rangements. The love of money is the root 
of all evil, because it feeds a desire to cut 
away from God, and take our destiny into our 
own hands. 

2. If you wish to be delivered from this 
love of money, then give freely. 

I trust you can see a new reason why " it 
is more blessed to give than to receive." 
Giving diminishes the consciousness of power. 
Accumulation, even in receiving, increases it. 
Giving creates a new feeling — the love of con- 
ferring happiness, and this weakens the love 
of money. If now you are conscious that you 
love to add up and calculate your property, 
and think how much more you are to be worth 
next year than you are now, depend upon it 
you are cultivating the master passion of the 
soul. Your only safety is to give away, give 
freely and often, not merely as a duty, but as 



180 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

a matter of self-preservation. It is the safe- 
ty-valve which, you must open often. If you 
wish to counteract a power that will cling to 
you in old age, and follow you even to the 
coffin, then don't be afraid of giving freely. 
And hence, when I make a plea for benevo- 
lence, you see that I feel I am doing that 
which will be for your safety and blessedness. 
Grod or mammon must have the heart, and all 
we can do to dethrone mammon is for your 
good. You starve a passion by taking away 
its food ; and giving is one of those kind pro- 
visions which Providence has made to prevent 
the soul from becoming a self-worshipper. 
Eemember that ' ' the covetous man whom the 
Lord abhorreth," is constantly feeding the 
deepest passion of a depraved spirit. There- 
fore do n't hesitate to give freely ; for without 
doing it, you will most certainly be ruined by 
the love of money. 

3. You must pray fervently against the 
love of money. 

One difficulty you meet with in regard to 
this subject is, that it is so easy to cover up 
the love of money with specious names. Econ- 



PHILARGUEIA. 181 

omy is a duty ; and avarice presses this duty 
into his service, and we think we are only 
economical, when we are covetous. You must 
provide for your own family, and avarice in- 
terprets this to mean, get and keep all that 
you possibly can. Foresight and prudence 
are virtues, but perverted by avarice, they 
are fearful sins. I don't think I have yet 
seen a man who thoudit he was covetous. 
Among all the prayers I have heard in the 
prayer-meeting, and the deep confessions of 
sin made, I have never yet heard the sin of 
covetousness confessed. The sin is so univer- 
sal, so hidden and so powerful, that we are 
hardly conscious of its existence. And be- 
cause you don't and wont confess it in public 
prayer, there is the more need that you pray 
over it in secret. 

Now, my reader, are you conscious that 
you have ever earnestly prayed over this 
great danger, this loving money, which is the 
root of all evil? Other sins destroy the body,, 
make you feeble, prematurely old ; but this 

« 

dries up the soul, withers the sympathies, 
hardens the heart, and makes men feel that 



182 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

they are gods, and may secretly gloat over 
the possession of a power which makes them 
safe, till the separation between the soul and 
God is too wide even for the cross of Christ 
and the power of the Holy Spirit ever to 
diminish. Oh man of God, if there be any 
one thing for which yon onght fervently to 
pray, it is that you may be saved from loving 
money, which "is the root of all evil." 



TOBACCO-EAISINa CHRISTIANS. 183 

XXIV. 

Tobacco-Raising Christians. 

No one need be alarmed at my caption. 
I don't profess to be a teacher — on tobacco. 
I am seeking light. But I have such earnest 
requests coming from Pleasant Valley, and 
elsewhere, asking my opinion on this subject, 
that I am at a loss what to do. Not having 
raised, chewed, or smoked a hill of tobacco, 
or ever having an ancestor, so far as I know, 
that did, alas, how poorly qualified am I to 
discuss this great matter. They tell me that 
the fairest portions of New England are be- 
coming covered with the plant, and that all 
classes, farmers, lawyers, doctors, and dea- 
cons — all except ministers — have gone into 
tobacco-raising; that in the beautiful Pleas- 
ant Valley all the church members, all even 
to Deacon Swineburne, who held out to the 
last, have gone into it. They thought that the 
deacon would stand 

•'faithful found, 
Among the faithless faithful only he." 



184 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

But the tide was too strong, the fashion 
too universal, the gains too large, and he, the 
last of the church, has so far put off the gar- 
ments of light as to enable him to spend the 
remainder of his life — in raising tobacco ! 

Now, my dear Deacon Swineburne, will 
you please sit down and let me ask you a few 
questions, just for information ; for I confess 
my ignorance. Let me talk, not with your 
purse, nor your neighbors, but with your con- 
science. 

You are going this season, they tell me, to 
raise tobacco. Of course you want to raise 
all 3"ou possibly can ; and you want the sun- 
shine and the dew and the rain carefully 
poured on your field. And you know very 
well that every thriftless husband, and every 
rowdy, and every widow's son who smokes or 
chews, helps to raise the price. You know 
that the great amount of tobacco used is by 
the poor, and that to get it they will and do 
deprive their wives of clothing and their chil- 
dren of bread. Now the question I wish first 
to ask : Is this article a Messing to the world ? 
Wheat, corn, cattle, every thing for the sus- 



TOBACCO-rwVISING CHRISTIANS. 185 

tenance of the liumau body, is a blessing. Is 
tobacco? Do you tliiuk, honestly, that if every 
man, woman, child, minister, and deacon, in 
the land should go ta smoking or chewing this 
3^ear, and raise your crop fivefold in value, 
the effect would be good on human happiness, 
on revivals of religion, and on the salvation 
of the earth? How is it in Pleasant Yalley, 
deacon? I am told you not only all raise it, 
but all use it, fathers, sons, nephews, and 
neighbors, all use it plentifully and more and 
more. Well, sir, is your church spiritual in 
proportion? are your prayer-meetings well 
attended and your prayers all fervent? Are 
your young people turning to the Lord and 
giving the dew of their youth to him, or are 
they seeking, in gayety and amusements, to 
shut God out of all their thoughts? You know 
how this is, and you can form a pretty clear 
estimate how far this increase of tobacco-using 
is to elevate the piety of your church, prepare 
the way for a revival, and bring the blessing 
of Christ upon your Zion. You may think 
these are not proper questions. Perhaps not. 
I told you I was ignorant and want light. 



186 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Another thing, my clear deacon ; you pray 
daily, I trust; fervently, I hope. Well, sir, 
can you pray heartily on this business, and 
ask the Lord to send you rain, for your tobacco 
will suffer; to keep away the frosts, or they 
will kill your tobacco? And the worms — what 
mischievous fellows ! Why, I am told you 
have to hunt them one by one, and crush 
them without mercy, or else they will eat up 
your tobacco, and become great, disgusting 
creatures. How could they become any thing 
else? Well, do you pray about the worms, 
and thus obtain the aid of Providence to keep 
them down? Parson Harms prayed for his 
hees, a great dependence of his poor people 
for support ; and Rowland Hill prayed for his 
sick horse, which he much needed to carry 
him to his preaching-places ; and why may not 
you pray about the tobacco-worms? Do you 
think they will be very mischievous this year? 
As you are going into the business for the 
first time this year, you will, of course, em- 
brace all in your prayers that ought to be 
included, and I thought that perhaps you 
might forget the worms! I am very ignorant 



TOBACCO-EAISING CHRISTIANS. 187 

on the subject. I am told that your valley is 
one of the most beautiful spots in the world, 
and that it is all now to be turned into a huge 
tobacco-field. Well, sir, have you a doubt as 
to the result — that within half a century it 
will be exhausted, burnt up, dried np, and 
cursed, just as the beautiful fields of Virginia 
have been by the same process? You can't 
enrich your lands except by raising grass and 
stock, and that you can't long do if you fer- 
tilize your fields to raise tobacco. The ques- 
tion I wish to ask here is. Are you willing 
to do your part to burn over, destroy, and 
utterly ruin your beautiful place? The result 
is inevitable. A tobacco-raising place must 
and will eventually run out and become poor. 
Tiy it as long as Virginia has, and see what 
the results will be! And when, in after-years, 
some poor creature, with his pipe in his mouth, 
shall stand at your grave and read your name, 
will he bless you, even though you were the 
greatest tobacco-raising Christian in the whole 
valley? I ask for information. 

You know that our dear Saviour when on 
earth was a mechanic — a carpenter. Do you 



188 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

believe lie ever did or would have made dice- 
boxes to sell, even though they might have 
brought a very high price ? You can't answer 
that question, perhaps. Well, I will so put it 
that you can answer it. He might have been 
a farmer instead of a mechanic. Suppose he 
had been, and his life had been spent in your 
sweet valley till he began his ministry, do you 
believe he would have raised tobacco? Can 
you imagine such a thing? You can believe 
that Peter might "go a fishing" and Paul 
make tents, but can you conceive of them as 
tobacco-raisers? You know, too, that in these 
times of high prices, we ministers have to cut 
very close, far closer than you have any idea 
of; we don't want to be talking about salaries 
and money, and we do shudder to run in 
debt. What say you, shall we too turn in 
and raise tobacco ? Would it not make every 
one feel humble and confess that he was "a 
worm," if not a tobacco-worm, -'and no man?" 
What do you wish us to do? We can, I doubt 
not, raise good tobacco. I ask, you see, for 
information, nothing else ; and surely our good 
Christian friends won't let us be pinched, if by 



TOBACCO-BAISING CHRISTIANS. 189 

showing us a little we can raise the weed as 
well as they. What do you say to that, good 
Deacon Swineburne? 

"Every body uses tobacco." Not so fast. 
No decent woman uses it; and thus we have 
half the world exempt. No child uses it, un- 
less by long teaching it learns. The greater 
part of the world loathe it. But many do use 
it, we confess. Not long since a gentleman 
with a cigar in his mouth, told me that his 
"cigars cost him annually more than the bread 
for all his family," and that family was large. 
The ladies, kind souls, will endure smoking 
and chewing, any thing that we, the other sex, 
claim for our comfort. But now and then one, 
like the usually good-natured Miss Mitford, 
will break out. "Whenever," says she, Works, 
p. 335, " one thinks of Sir Walter Kaleigh as 
the importer of this disgusting and noisome 
weed, it tends greatly to mitigate the horror 
which one feels for his unjust execution. Had 
he been only beheaded as the inventor ol 
smoking, all would have been right." 

Now I don't want to be too positive, and 
so I ask as a learner. And, good deacon, if 



190 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

you are to become a tobacco-raising Christian, 
and the business is all right and useful, and 
such as you will be willing to spend your life 
in, and for which you are willing to be judged 
at last, why, God speed thee. May you pros- 
per so that it can be engraved on your 
tomb-stone, "Here lies Deacon Swineburne, 
a devoted Christian, an uncovetous disciple, 
and — the greatest tobacco-raiser that ever 
lived and died in Pleasant Yalley." 



A QUEEE OLD LADY. 191 



XXV. 

A OuEEi\ Old Lady. 

How diflfereiit people appear at different 
times ; as when we are sick or well, rejoicing 
or mourning, laughing or weeping. A few 
days since I met an old lady who nodded 
very familiarly to me, and yet T hesitated to 
call her by name, lest I should miscall it. 
She looked old, and yet young ; soft and smil- 
ing, and yet wore stern frowns. She was fair 
in face, yet her hands were iron. It seemed 
as if the wind would blow her away, and yet 
she moved with the strength of an elephant. 

" Why, sir," said she, "you seem to stare 
at me, though you have seen me a thousand 
times before." 

" That may be, madam, but I never saw 
you so loaded down with all sorts of things. 
I am curious to know about them. Would it 
be rude if I should ask you a few questions?" 

" Not at all. Ask away." 



192 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

"Well, what are you going to do with 
those small, thin, ladies' shoes ?" 

" Why, make the ladies wear them, to be 
sure." 

"Not this cold, wet season! Why, I can 
hardly keep my feet warm in these thick, 
double-soled boots. I must have overshoes. 
How can they wear such thin, cold-catching 
shoes ?" 

"0 sir, I have only to bring them to 
them, and the dear creatures put them on, 
and never hesitate a moment. They know 
me." 

' ' And those little half-dresses hanging on 
your arm ?" 

"They are to be put on little children in 
cold weather, or to walk out in ; naked at the 
knees, naked at the neck, and hardly cover- 
ing half the bod}^ You can't think how eager 
parents are for these dresses." 

" What have you in this little tin box ?" 

"Lozenges, sir; troches, hoarhound can- 
dy — things that always go with thin shoes and 
thin dresses. And this bright, red box, sir, 
contains what is called 'conscience salve,' 



A QUEER OLD LADY. 193 

which I always keep on hand to rub on the 
conscience when any one feels that he has 
done wrong in obeying me. It's in great 
demand, sir, and a certain cure." 

" What have j^ou in that bundle, madam?" 
"This? Why, a few knick-knacks which 
I sometimes distribute in Sabbath-schools, in 
the shape of dialogues, speeches — things to 
make people laugh, and to prevent the school 
from feeling too serious, or thinking too much 
about religion. You must understand, sir, 
that I continually have to attend church to 
regulate things there, and see that the bonnets 
are right, the rings are bright, and dresses 
complete ; yet religion itself I hate as poison. 
And here is a box of the finest — what shall I 
call it? It is a sort of wit and smartness, 
which I deal out to preachers, with which they 
spice their sermons, and become popular. I 
sell them by the gross. They are growing in 
demand, and they are a real saving of con- 
science and heart-ache. Warranted to keep 
in any climate — a kind of sensation-powder." 
"Pray, madam, what are those screws 
for?" 



194 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

"Why, to pinch the feet, and make them 
look small, without regard to corns and bun- 
ions. They can't wear those little, dear little 
shoes, except you have these pinchers to go 
with them." 

' ' And that great heap of books in your 
arms ?" 

"Those? They are the latest, most ex- 
citing, and the weakest, most silly novels. 
But I hand them out, and shake my head 
with a smile, and crowds read them." 

"Well, madam, I'm very inquisitive, I 
know ; but I do want to know what you have 
in that bag thrown over your shoulder ?" 

" A great variety of valuables ; such things 
as 'late suppers,' in great demand, and which 
send people to the grave early, and thus make 
room for more. Then there are 'late hours,' 
and ' late rising,' and all manner of hair-dress- 
ing and expensive dressing, things that ladies 
must have, even if their husbands fail. Here 
are diamond pins and rings, just the thing to 
stir up envy and create extravagance. Here 
are gold watches, cigars, meerschaum pipes, 
gold-headed canes, eye-glasses, and all man- 



A QUEER OLD LADY. 195 

ner of things to suit all nianncr of people. 
And I laugh and coax, and frown and com- 
mand, till I get them to wear and use them, 
and do just what I please. Now I have stopped 
lo talk with j^ou a few moments ; do n't you 
see what a crowd have gathered round me? 
low necks, thin shoes, muslin dresses, tight 
boots ; some on crutches, some coughing, some 
breathing short, all crowding to get near me; 
and when I move, you will see how they all 
run, and rush, and crowd after me. Oh, sir, 
I am the great power of the world. 1 rule 
kings and queens, beggars and philosophers. 
Don't you see?"' 

"Truly, madam, truly. And now may I 
ask your name ?" 

"Name! Fashion, sir! my name is Mrs. 
Prevailing Fashion. I thought everybody 
knew me." 



196 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 



XXVI. 

;^NONYMOUS LETTERS. 

Gentle reader, did you ever see a white- 
faced hornet? Did you ever have one, great, 
bold, and with a loud, trumpet note, dash at 
your face and strike you with his peculiar 
weapon? How you are shocked, stunned, and 
almost knocked down by the blow. How you 
wish every hornet in the world was extermin- 
ated! And yet one can't but have a kind of 
respect for the fellow's boldness, a,nd the fear- 
lessness with which he strikes his open, deci- 
ded blow. 

I am inclined to think the sting of the 
honey-bee is, on the whole, the most trying. 
You are conscious of being her friend and 
even admire her ; that you would be glad to 
do her good, defend her hive from the moth 
miller, shelter her from the storms of winter, 
and make war with the bee-eater on her ac- 
count. You know too that the very venom 
and poison of the sting is made out of the 



ANONYMOUS LETTERS. 197 

very honey of the flowers. With what chemi- 
cal power she can make so sweet a substance 
into one so fearful is a mystery to you. The 
fact is all that you know. You can forgive 
the savage Arab hornet much easier than the 
bee. The one is a wild marauder ; the other 
is a cherished favorite of civilization. 

Gentle reader, did you ever receive an 
anonymous letter? I don't mean one of those 
flower}', painted, embossed or garnished val- 
entines that look so magnificent to boys and 
girls under twelve ; but one of those secret, 
stinging, almost satanic epistles, which come 
to you in disguised writing, and which, like 
the poison of the bee made out of honey, are 
made up of perverted goodness, and have just 
enough of truth in them to make them terri- 
ble? If you never did, you don't know every 
thing ! 

They are always from professed friends ; 
but you have common sense enough to know 
that no real friend would ever approach you 
in that way; that none but a bitter enemy 
would thus play the hypocrite ; that none but 
a coward would thus stab in the dark; and 



198 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

none but a sneaking spirit would descend to 
such means to attain his end. Ministers ol 
the gospel probably have more of these an- 
noyances than all other men put together. I 
have known, and do now know, of some of the 
very best of these servants of Christ who have 
been grieved, wounded, and tormented by these 
invisible weapons. I have known men dis- 
missed, driven away from their fields of labor 
by them. And if Mr. A. or Mr, B., who has 
been in the habit of writing such letters to his 
minister, should perchance see this, I wish just 
to say to him, " Sir, to a frank, honest, manly 
character this conduct is the most contempti- 
ble of all the mean things that you ever did." 
My pen gives out in trying to express the 
contempt I feel for such a man. Such letters 
are a libel on manhood, a perversion of gifts, 
and I have no doubt, are an abhorrence to 
the Lord. If you don't like your minister's 
preaching, if his talents are too small to meet 
yours, if his taste does not coincide with yours, 
why not go and tell himso, or, at all event," 
act openhanded? No man ever wrote an 
anonymous letter unless because he wanted 



ANONYMOUS LETTEES. 199 

to work ill the dark, and do that under its 
covering that he would be ashamed to do 
openly. An ingenuous, kind, or true man, 
will never write such a letter. Why leave 
out the name? Why try to disguise the hand, 
except because you arc not willing to own 
your own offspring? 

A few words to those who have the honor 
to receive such letters. Of one thing you may 
be sure, and that is, that the man who writes 
an anonymous letter to you is afraid of you. 
In his estimation, at least, you are a power, 
and one that he dreads. He wants to remove 
a fear. Yery likely he over-estimates your 
power, but at any rate he confesses his fear. 
No man loads and shoots at a floating log, as 
it lies in stagnant water. In the next place 
do n't let the writer know that you ever re- 
ceived or felt the blow. In nine cases out of 
ten jou. will know from whom the letter came, 
as truly as if it had been signed by his real 
name. Keep cool, and keep silent. Terribly 
you will feel the sting ; but do n't wince. 
Don't show it, speak of it, or let it be known. 
You can't pull out the sting, nor prevent the 



200 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

smart, but you can bear it in silence. You 
will very likely ask, "Why, sir, am I mista- 
ken in supposing that you have received such 
letters, and are speaking from experience ?" 
Truly, kind reader, I have received many such 
in my day, but not of late years. The skin of 
some animals becomes so tough by time that 
common leaden balls will not pierce it, and 
thereVs no use in firing. Yes, I have received 
many such letters ; but so perverse was I that 
I can't recall one that I think did me any 
good, or that threw one ray of light on the 
path of duty, or was otherwise than an evil. 
I never showed one or told of one, even to 
the wife of my bosom. I turned them into 
ashes as quickly as possible, and locked up 
the secret in my own bosom. It was one of 
the very few secrets that a man should not tell 
even to his sympathizing wife. They will do 
no hurt, and leave the writer more powerless, 
if you have enough of the grace of Grod and of 
a sterling will to keep silent. It is now many 
years since I have been honored with an anon- 
ymous letter, and most likely I shall never 
receive another. But I have younger breth- 



ANONYMOUS LETTERS. 201 

ren in the ministry who may be thus tor- 
mented. Let me say to such, that if they 
reveal the fact of having been thus stabbed it 
will hurt them. You may feel and carry your 
troubles to your Master, but keep silent. 

I think that the ministry is the only pro- 
fession that is often tormented in this way, 
and I have been trying to divine the reason. 
It is plain that the business and duties of a 
minister are such that all feel that they under- 
stand and are competent to direct about it. 
They do n't pretend that they could advise a 
lawyer, or understand his business so as to 
guide him. So of the physician. They do n't 
know the beat of the pulse, or the hieroglyph- 
ics on the medicine recipe. But religion is 
something that all think they understand, about 
which they are abundantly competent to give 
advice, and over which assume control. Hence 
there are hundreds and even thousands, prob- 
ably, who can assume to guide a minister, who 
w^ould feel incompetent to manage a lawyer or 
a doctor. The Lord's people are all prophets 
in this respect. It is a pity that we need and 
must have so many conservators ; but how 



202 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. ' 

thankful we ought to be that we have so many 
able and willing to relieve Moses and Aaron 
of the burdens of the priesthood! It is a pity, 
loo, that ministers are so sensitive, and that 

"A kick that scarce would move a horse, 
May kill a sound divine. " 

I have known a minister almost thrown into 
convulsions in public by one of these missiles. 

I beg m}^ brethren to cultivate a simple, 
open, frank, and childlike spirit — confident 
that He who hath called them into his service 
will protect them from the pestilence that walk- 
eth in darkness. Let them stand firm in the 
faith of the Lord, and the movements of the 
birds of the night will no more injure them 
than the flapping of the bat's wing against 
Gibraltar will hurt the rock. 

Perhaps I ought to say and allow that all 
anonymous letters do not come from the strong. 
Sometimes very weak bows shoot such arrows, 
but such seldom reach the mark. There are 
many really good but weak trees on the hill 
of Zion ; and in the garden of the Lord there 
is not only spikenard, calamus, cassia, and the 
like, but also "a/'oes;" and if the latter gives 



ANONYMOUS LETTEKS. 203 

forth its own fragrance now and then, it only 
acts naturally. These feeble disciples, some- 
times disappointed, sometimes really wishing 
for power to do good, can think of no way so 
sure as to stir up the minister now and then 
with an anonymous letter. We must bear 
with such, and be thankful for their very 
weakness. But let me entreat all such to 
take some other way of doing good, and not 
torment their minister by thrusting needles 
into his back, even if they are not darning- 
needles. I should be afraid to say how many 
ministers have thus been worried till they 
asked a dismission and left their fields of use- 
fulness, were it not that I hope what I have 
said will do something towards counteracting 
the evil. The ministers w^ill not tell their best 
friends of these troubles ; they may not. For 
them, "flereetrneminissereUcfuinestJ^ Silence, 
silence, dear brethren ; there is great power 
in silence. If you weep, wash your eyes in j 
cold water, and don't let others see your 
tears. 



204 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 



XXVII. 

Christians Travelling. 

This year, and indeed every year, and 
more and more. Christians and Christian fami- 
lies will leave their homes for a summer tour 
or a residence of a few months. The number 
of such is so great, and the places to which 
they resort are so numerous, and their influ- 
ence for good or for evil is so decided, that I 
have a strong desire to address a few words 
of kindness to such. Not unfrequently a sin- 
gle hint may influence our actions for a long- 
time. 

The reasons why good people, men and 
women, go away from home during the sum- 
mer, are such as these : 

A desire for change. Every one knows 
that he cannot long meet the ever-returning 
duties of life without somewhat of a tread-mill 
feeling. You long to break the monotony. 
You are willing to leave your comfortable 



CHRISTIANS TRAVELLING. 205 

home and encounter dust, and heat, and small 
rooms, and crowded places, and poor accom- 
modations, for the sake of a change. You 
hope to see new scenes, become acquainted 
with new faces, meet old friends, sec the 
changes going on in the world, have some- 
thing to make you forget the wearing labors 
of life, and have something to think of and 
talk about after you return to your home. 
This change refreshes the spirits, restores the 
energies, and creates courage to go back and 
take up the burdens of life. Or, 

Rest from toil. We are not only a work- 
ing people, but we -crowd and overtask our 
l^owers of body and of mind. We undertake 
a little more than we can do, lift burdens a 
little heavier than we can carry. The man of 
business under the pressure and stimulus of 
his concerns, the mother under the anxieties 
and toils of her large family, the student and 
the man making drafts upon the brain all the 
time, feel that they need rest. They can have, 
it only by dropping every thing and going 
away. They feel that if they could only flee 
to yonder mountain they would be at rest. 



206 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

They judge riglitly, and they ought to go and 
rest. Or, 

To recover health. As soon as we can get 
our sick friend off the bed, and not unfre- 
quently before, we urge him to go away from 
home — for a change of air for the lungs, scenery 
for the eye, food for the stomach, and out-of- 
door exercise. Nature provides her medicines 
in this way. In what the renewing power of 
a journey consists, it would be difficult to tell. 
But the fact is certain that many a sick man, 
and many a feeble woman, and many a puny 
child, is restored and recovered by absence 
from home, especially if that home be in the 
city. 

Now all these are legitimate and good 
reasons why the Christian should at times 
leave home and travel, or change scenery 
during the summer heat. And a great multi- 
tude will do so. And I am wishing to give 
them a few kind hints how and what to do in 
these circumstances. 

1. Don't leave your Christian character 
at home. I am afraid that many, perhaps 
thoughtlessly, so sink their Christian charac- 



CHRISTIANS TRAVELLING. 207 

ter out of sight when abroad, that they are 
not recognized as Christians. In several cases 
which I distinctly recall, I have spoken to 
gentlemen, whom I met at large hotels, on the 
greatest of all interests, and have been sur- 
prised to have them tell me they were Chris- 
tians. From my intercourse with them I ought 
to have suspected it before. Some will go to 
places of amusement, to the ball-room and the 
like, when away from home, when they never 
w^ould have done it where well known. Some 
sink Christ out of sight, and feel that for the 
time being, certainly, they may conform to the 
world. Now the safest and the wisest and the 
easiest way is, to be an open, known Chris- 
tian everywhere. Let the flag of the sacred 
army be seen. Don't let people have to guess 
whether you are a Christian or not. You will 
need to be very careful about secret devo- 
tion when away. You can't carry your closet 
and your habits with you. Conveniences will 
be wanting. But let the temptations be what 
they may, don't forego secret prayer. The 
life-blood of the soul will dry up if you do. It 
is the time and the place, above all others, to 



208 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

carry and show tlie image of Christ. Don't, 
then, do or omit to do otherwise than what 
you would at home. 

2. Be careful about violating the Sabbath. 
At home you have to show your example in 
your family, in the church, and perhaps in 
the Sabbath-school. You are now loose 'from 
these. You will be tempted, when abroad, to 
break the Sabbath hj travelling, by riding, by 
walking, by visiting, and by worldly conver- 
sation, and the temptations will surely return 
in one of these forms every returning Sab- 
bath. I must be allowed to say that Chris- 
tians in the country are often surprised at 
what they see visitors. Christians too, do on 
the Lord's day. They are watched just as 
they would be, and no otherwise, were thc}^ 
at home. And if any professing Christian 
thinks he can violate the Sabbath and not be 
marked, he is greatly mistaken. 

3. Don't neglect public worship when from 
home. On this point there is an unaccounta- 
ble degree of irresponsibility. You are not 
with your church and people, and feel that 
you have nothing to do with any other. But 



CHRISTIANS TEAVELLING, 209 

you should know that you arc often thrown 
near a small, feeble church. The tide of the 
world almost sweeps the little band away. 
They need all the encouragement and counte- 
nance and prayer they can have. If you stay 
away, or go but a part of the day, and take 
no interest in them, are you doing as Christ 
would do? They love to see the stranger 
within their gates. They love to feel that the 
stranger's heart beats with love to the same 
Redeemer, and that you feel the same wants, 
and go to the same source for the supply. Let 
there be no opportunity w^hen health will pos- 
sibly allow it, which jon do not improve to 
attend public worship when away from home. 
Leave your blessing and jour prayers in 
every church and with every people where 
you go. If you can visit the Sabbath-school, 
smile upon the children, greet the teachers, 
and perhaps say a word of encouragement, 
don't fail to do it. Let your light shine in 
every synagogue wherever you go. 

4. The prayer-meeting. You will find 
wherever you go, almost without exception, 
a weekly prayer-meeting. There will proba- 



210 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

bly be but few who sustain it. They are the 
life of the church. And it is a grievous fact 
men and women who feel bound to attend and 
sustain a praj^er-meeting in their own church 
at home, feel no responsibility when abroad. 
I have been at places where were hundreds, 
literally, of Christian professors, and yet Jot 
a dozen would be found at the humble prayer- 
meeting. I know of no way in which you can 
spend a single hour more profitably to your- 
self, or more to the comfort and strengthening 
of the few faithful ones, than to go into their 
meeting for prayer. It may not be your par- 
ticular denomination. Don't care for that. 
All the better, for it gives you the opportu- 
nity of seeing that you are free in the Lord, 
and are bound by no cords of bigotry. Go to 
their little meetings. Sing with them; pray 
with them ; and if you say a word let it be a 
word of cheer and encouragement. Let it be 
to strengthen their faith. But don't go back 
to your home feeling conscious that you have 
not attended a single prayer-meeting since 
you left! It would be a fearful mark against 
you. It would, I feel sure, grieve the divine 



CnmSTIANS TRAVELLING. 211 

Redeemer. And 3'et, how many do it! I 
could tell some painful facts on this subject. 

5. Finally, don't return home feeling that 
you have done no good. You are out on a 
mission. To be sure, your own immediate 
health is the great object, perhaps ; but you go 
as a living epistle of Christ, known and read 
as such. And if you go and return without 
doing good, it will not be because you have 
not had the opportunity. You can do good, 
and you ought. And if you return home feel- 
ing that you have thrown off responsibility, 
and forgotten your high calling, and neglected 
to do for Christ, as you might have done, you 
will, if really a Christian, have a terrible reck- 
oning with conscience. 

Good by, Christian traveller! A pleasant 
journey to you and a safe return ; but Oh, 
just say before you start, that j^ou will be the 
better for my simple admonH.ions ! 



212 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 



XXVIII. 



AMP. 



They took great pains, in building the good 
sliip Samson, that every timber and plank 
and bolt should be the best possible. They 
gave the ship a strong man's name, and yet 
talked about her and she. Just before she 
was completed, there was a great consultation 
as to what kind of head should be carved and 
placed under her bowsprit for the "figure- 
head." At last it came to them that, as she 
was named "Samson," nothing but the head 
of a Jew, old, marked, decided, and fierce, 
with shaggy brows, sunken eyes, and long 
hair, would meet the case. Accordingly, a 
Samson's head, so far as the carver could 
conceive, was duly made and placed on the 
bow of the ship, as if to see where she was 
going, and give warning when he saw any 
danger. So she was launched, rigged, loaded, 
and made ready for sea. When launched, a 



OLD SAMP. 213 

multitude yeut up a loud shout as she grace- 
fully slid into the water, and sat like a duck. 
"When rigged and ready for sailing, her beau- 
tiful form was the admiration of everybody. 
At last the captain and the crew came on 
board ; and then the pilot came, and quietly 
gave his orders. The sails swelled out, the 
yard-arms were turned, and the glorious 
ship moved oflf, obeying every hint of her 
helm, and was soon walking over the great 
waves of the ocean, her head directed 
straight to the distant port to which she 
was bound. 

The "figure-head" at her bow seemed to 
enjoy his position. When the winds blew and 
the seas dashed over him, he never winked 
or took pains to spit out the salt water. There 
he remained through many a storm and many 
a iblow, unmoved and undismayed. By day 
or by night, he seemed ever to have his eyes 
open. The sailors called him " Old Samp." 
After making many voyages to different and 
distant parts of the world, all at once it seemed 
as if " Old Samp" had become alive, and was 
heard to talk to himself every night, after all 



214 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

the crew had turned iii except the night- 
watch. He began in a kind of whisper, which 
grew louder and louder, till the sailors de- 
clared they understood every word that he 
said. "Come on, old ship," he would fre- 
quently say, talking of course to himself, "I 
have guided you so far and so long, and never 
made a mistake. Hast thou not been twice 
round the world, and had nothing to do but to 
follow me ? Have I not always been at my 
post, and in the darkness of night, and among 
rocks and breakers, safely led thee on, so that 
thou hadst only to follow me ? To be sure, I 
have heard the captain shout, and the men 
run, and haul, and pull, and seen the old 
ship reel and stagger; but after all, they 
had only to let the ship follow me, and all 
was safe." 

"Halloo, Old Samp," cried the sailors, 
" what 's all this muss ?" 

" I 'm only talking to myself." 

"Yes, but you are talking like a fool; 
just as if you guided and managed the 
ship." 

"Well, don't she follow just where and 



OLD SAMr. 215 

\Ylieii I lead her? Answer inc that, will 
you?" 

"To be sure. But what do you suppose 
the ship has a helm, a captain, and a crew 
for ?" 

"Why, to follow me. They do no good, 
/guide the ship." 

"You old heathen ; if we don't strike the 
broad-axe into you, and split your head open. 
What a vain fool to think that you, who can't 
shut an eye or lift a finger, are the guide of 
this ship." 

Old Samp made no reply, but kept mut- 
tering to himself, " After all, it 's I that do it. 
It 's I that do it." 

A few nights after this conversation, as 
the ship was ploughing her way through the 
fogs that gather around and over the banks 
of St. George, with a light at her mast-head 
and another at her stern, with three men on 
the look-out lest she should run into some 
vessel or against some iceberg, the fog-bells 
tolling loudly, "Old Samp" seemed to be 
wide awake. "Aha! how timid they are 
Just as if I could n't see every danger, 



216 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

and guide the ship just as I always have 
done." 

"Sail ahead!" sung out the watch on deck 
at that instant. 

"Port helm!" cried the captain in the next 
breath. 

Quickly the noble ship obeyed her helm, 
and swung off and away from the vessel, just 
escaping a horrible collision, and yet giving a 
slight knock against the end of the stranger's 
bowsprit. It was hardly felt; and yet that 
little jar was enough to knock poor Old Samp's 
head off his shoulders, and leave it rolling and 
tossing on the waves. The ship moved on 
her way, and no one for some weeks knew 
that Old Samp was gone. 

Poor Old Samp ! how much he felt and 
talked as men do every day, when they think 
that they guide themselves and their affairs ; 
and that they need and have no Providence 
behind them, whose hand is on the helm, and 
who uses other men to guide those who think 
they guide themselves. Never forget that our 
wisdom and our reason are about as able to 
guide us as Old Samp was the ship. The 



OLD SAMP. 217 

mind and the skill apc fiir behind, out of 
sight ; but without them we are wrecked. 
When men who deny God, and think they 
are so wise, come to die, the world moves on 
just as it did before, and just as the ship did 
after poor Old Samp was no more. *' Figure- 
heads" don't guide the ship, but the mind at 
the helm. 



10 



218 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

XXIX. 

Breaking The Left /lrm. 

If m}^ courteous reader never, in the full 
tide of labors and responsibilit}^, elianced to 
break his left arm, I feel sure he has some 
things to learn. I do n't refer to the sudden, 
stunning fall on the ice, when your first con- 
sciousness is that you need help, and are faint, 
and have one limb shattered and helpless ; 
nor to the swellings, and splints, and band- 
ages, and pains, and arnica, compresses, and 
long weary nights, and the useless thing hung 
in a sling, to be carefully carried about; nor 
do I refer to the many condolences and con- 
gratulations you have ' ' that it was not your 
right arm," and "how thankful you ought to 
be that you escaped with the right arm unin- 
jured," etc. You are truly tempted to say, 
"My good friend, how much more thankful 
ought you to be, that neither of your arms has 
been broken." How many daily forget this 



BREAKING THE LEFT AKM. 219 

great mercy. But I took up my pen to speak 
of the broken left arm. 

One night, between sleeping and waking, 
between opium and pain, I overheard a dia- 
logue between the right and the left hand, by 
which I was not a little amused, but still more 
instructed. 

"Now, my good fellow," said Right Hand 
to'Left, "you see just how it is. You may 
as well be quiet, and get well. You are not 
much missed, as you hear everybody rejoicing 
and congratulating the owner that it was you 
rather than me who is laid aside. We shall 
get along admirably without you ; and indeed, 
you are not of much consequence." . 

"It may seem so," meekly replied Left 
Hand," but I am hardly satisfied with the 
place you give me. Will you please tell 
me wherein your great superiority con- 
sists ?" 

Up started Right Hand, as fierce as a 
challenging bully — I wonder how the j^salm- 
ist ever came to call the right hand feminine, 
and talk about ''her cunning," when every 
attribute is masculine, bold, grasping, pugna- 



220 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

cious, and nnlacl^dike, as possible — and an- 
swered thus : 

"My superiority! why, in every thing. 
My owner can't hold his quill and write a 
most wonderful piece unless I hold that pen." 
"True, but who holds the paper on which he 
writes ?" 

"Who holds the hammer, while the black- 
smith forges and shapes his iron?" "And 
Avho holds the tongs that grasp that iron and 
tiirn it over on the anvil ?" 

"Who holds the plane, while the carpen- 
ter smooths the board?" "And who stead- 
ies the board, while he joints and smooths it?" 

" When my owner walks the streets, who 
has the honor to salute, lift the hat, and shake 
the hand?" "And who holds the travelling- 
coat and carpet-bag while he does it ?" 

" In war, who wields the sword and draws 
the trigger at the right momeftt?" "And 
who holds the scabbard while the sword is 
drawn ; and who holds up the gun while it is 
fired ?" 

"Who gallantly helps the lady into 
the carriage?" "And who holds the car- 



BrvEAKING THE LEFT ARM. 221 

riagc door open while slie enters the car- 
riage ?" 

"You interrupt me and trouble me, and I 
wont talk if you do so." "I don't want to 
do that," said Left Hand ; " but suppose I ask 
you a few questions now ? you certainly are 
very skilful in this matter. 

"Who shaved our owner yesterday?" 
"Why, I did, and wanted j^ou to hold his 
face ; and because j'ou was gone, I cut him 
eight times badly." 

"Couldn't 3'ou help it?" "No, indeed; 
the best barber in town can't shave a man 
unless the left hand holds the nose and other 
parts of the face." 

"Will you please, Mr. Right Hand, but- 
ton that wristband of yours, which is open ?" 
"Why, you know I can't do that. I never 
did that in my life. You have alwaj^s done 
that." 

"Won't you please wind up master's 
watch? we shall want to know when to ex- 
pect morning." "Pshaw! you know I can't 
wind up the watch unless you are there to 
hold it." 



222 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

' ' You surely can wash a tumbler ?" " Not 
unless you hold it for me." 

" You can take the money out of the purse, 
and pay for what our master wants." "Not 
unless you hold the purse. But I can hold 
the whip, and make old Dobbin go fast." 

"Yes, if I hold the reins, and guide him 
while he goes. The real fact is, that with 
your help alone the master can't cut the 
leaves of his new book, or read it when cut. 
The mistress can't darn a stocking or make a 
pudding." 

"Well, well, Mr. Left Hand, you make 
out that you are of great consequence ; and I 
do n't deny it. I appreciate you ; and have I 
not held you carefully every night since you 
have been sick during sleep ?" 

" Yes, and I have been grateful for it. It 
was just as I should have done for you." 

"It is possible, dear old helper, I have 
not realized how much real service you per- 
form. Just tell me how you estimate your- 
self." 

" Why, sir, I am to you what a good wife 
is to her husband. You have the honorable 



BREAKING THE LEFT ARM. 223 

things to do, and the honorable orders of Mrs. 
Brain to execute ; but I am always at hand to 
help. When our owner fell, I leaped out to 
break the fall, and broke my own wrist, while 
3'ou flew up into the air and cried, " What an 
escape I have had!" I am to the body what 
the wheel-horses are to the stage, taking every 
twitch and lurch of the carriage. The wife is 
to her husband what the mate is to the com- 
mander of the ship, ever on the watch, man- 
aging the crew, while the captain has all the 
honor of the successful voyage. The w^ife is 
the untiring friend of her husband, more jeal- 
ous of his good name than of her own, never 
wearied in promoting his interests, never ask- 
ing for the praise or the honors that fall on 
him ; continually doing small but necessary 
things ; meeting the trials of life, the greater 
part of which fall most heavily on her, with- 
out complaining or mourning that her lot is not 
better. The husband is the Eight Hand, and 
the wife is the Left. The one can do little 
without the other. You know that, since I 
have been laid aside, j'ou can't button a col- 
lar or tie a cravat. You arc the man, and I 



224 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

am the woman — a help-meet. And I have 
been thinking, as I have lain here throbbing 
and aching, that perhaps no man could break 
his left arm without learning to value his own 
wife the more. He sees that even the Eight 
Hand is crippled when I am disabled. He 
learns that uncomplaining, untiring ministry 
of woman so necessary for the human family, 
so freely bestowed, so seldom appreciated. 
Doomed to be the Left Hand, she meets every 
duty, be her lot high or low, with cheerfulness 
and alacrity. It can never be too often told 
to her honor that, when the Eedeemer was on 
earth, though maligned and slandered and 
persecuted b}^ man, there is not one instance 
recorded of his receiving any thing but kindness 
and sympathy from woman. Is not this an 
imperishable crown of honor on the head of 
woman? And no thinking, observing man 
can look back upon the path of life which he 
and his wife have walked hand in hand, with- 
out giving her the credit of having done, un- 
tiringly, the humble, but necessary duties of 
life, and helping him to do most of what he 
has accomplished, and making him what he is. 



BREAKING THE LEFT ARM. 225 

woman, Left Hand of the family, thy hus- 
band may well praise thee, and value thee 
more and more as long as he lives." 

"Right, right, my true yoke-fellow; thou 
hast hit it. Henceforth I will look upon thee 
as my wife ; and if I hear people hereafter 
offering their congratulations that it was not 
the right hand that was disabled, I at least 
will feel that I have learned a good lesson by 
the breakinjr of the left arm." 



10^ 



226 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 



XXX. 

"The Age of the Press." 

He must be a bold man wlio doubts that 
in our day the "Press" throws off its products 
quicker, faster, and more abundantly than ever 
before. Everybody reads, and everybody and 
all his relations write. If the human brain 
can and does digest and assimilate all that 
passes into it, as the healthy bod}^ does its 
food, the people of the Lord could all shortly 
be prophets, and the children of this world 
would be wiser than ever before. I am not 
going to risk what little popularity I may have 
by running tilt against this age, or to doubt 
that it is the wisest, best, and most desirable 
age that ever existed. I have lately bought 
some huge commentaries on the Bible, very 
bulky and very weighty, measured by the 
foot or the scales of the counter ; and I have 
the privilege of seeing great weekly religious 
papers, and vast, barndoor-like daily papers, 
and I am more and more surprised at the 



"THE AGE OF THE PKESS." 227 

amount of reading one can procure for his 
money. We have vohinics in our daily pa- 
pers, and hardly less in our weeklies. And 
what amazing pictorials and histories and biog- 
raphies they bring to our doors, and thrust 
into our parlors, and make us almost turn 
tiger to prevent their being left there. 

Carlyle suggests that it would be a great 
and valuable investment to pay authors for 
what they donH write ! By which I under- 
stand him to mean, that if writers would pro- 
duce not more than half what they now do, and 
have that digested, condensed, and wrought out 
in the brain, they would well deserve double 
what they now receive. I often marvel at the 
long columns and the number of them, and feel 
that these must all be filled, like the boa con- 
strictor, even though the editor swallow any 
thing that comes along, hair, bones, horns, and 
all. And I am not surprised that since the 
wise, good public buy by the quantity, and 
demand a great amount for their money, there 
is, and must be, so much crude thinking, such 
a spreading out of thought, so many pieces 
and chapters dashed off, so many unripe no- 



228 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

tions obtruded on the reader, and sucli flippant 
nonsense labelled "wisdom by the package." 
If the editor of the magazine or paper pays so 
much for the bulk, and credits his correspond- 
ent by the page or column, where is the in- 
ducement for the writer to sit down and think, 
and turn his thoughts over again and again, 
then to sift them, and winnow them, condense 
them, and refine them, till they show the value 
and the polish of pure silver? 

But this is a small evil compared with the 
often crude, wild, impracticable, and danger- 
ous notions that are scattered broadcast over 
society by this "age of the Press." In almost 
every popular magazine, and in not a few 
religious papers, you will meet with notions 
so dressed up, like French cookery, that you 
hardly see to what you are yielding your mind 
and heart. Often one writer has to follow an- 
other, and try to correct the impressions made 
or to dilute the poison distilled. The good 
editor must have so many columns of original 
matter, and he can't afford to winnow the chaff 
from the wheat, or to strain the water before 
him. He hopes it won't, on the whole, do any 



•THE AGE OF THE PRESS." 229 

hurt, and tluit it 'will awaken some strong arm 
to come and sweep it all off. The garden is 
to look all the better for the weeds that have 
been pulled np. 

Now, I am so far bewildered in looking at 
this "age of the press," that I verily believe 
that if our editors dared and would have but 
half the matter they now have, making it up 
in large type, or reducing the size of the sheet, 
and having every writer put his thoughts into 
half the space he now occupies, paying him 
well for what he leaves out, it would be far bet- 
ter for the present and the rising generation. 
As things now are, who pretends to read more 
than a small portion of what is printed? And 
then how we train the mind to glance over the 
article, not to read it, not to study it, not to 
be improved by it, but to get a smoky idea of 
what it contains! It is like attempting to burn 
crude peat ; you get a vast column of smoke, an 
abundance of ashes, but not much heat or light. 
The reader, unconsciously, has his mind dilu- 
ted, and his memory made into a riddle-sieve, 
through which every thing passes except sticks 
and coarse materials. This hasty, undigesting 



230 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

mode of reading must inevitably make us su- 
perficial and soft in all our mental operations. 
We cannot sit down and make our own minds 
think, if we train them to live upon the shad- 
ows of thought. What I especially desire is, 
that those who write for the public do not try 
to see how they can dash off a crude article, 
how easily they can rattle the box, how quickly 
they can write what will give them five or ten 
dollars the page ; but how much good sense, 
correct opinion, and elevated taste, they can 
weave into every article. Even if this loose 
writing, and looser thinking in the reader, 
resulted in no vitiation of the moral senti- 
ments, it does, nevertheless, vitiate the taste, 
so that a thing that is really a gem in the 
world of literature is in danger of being over- 
looked. He who spends life amid the din of 
the factory, the clanking of looms, and the 
whirring of spindles, is not so likely to enjoy 
an exquisite piece of music on the piano, as the 
man in circumstances entirely reverse. I do not 
question that this "age of the press" produces 
much that is valuable. The wheat produced 
on the field is very large, but bears a small pro- 



"THE AGE OF THE TRESS." 231 

portion to the cliaff. Among all the shells and 
the debris of the ocean gathered up on the 
sands of the shore, there is here and there a 
choice shell or fossil, but it is only here and 
there. Broken shells and imperfect frag- 
ments compose the greater part of ^yhat is 
gathered up. 

Now, is there no way to change this fash- 
ion of the age, and instead of telling how "the 
press groans" under its burdens, cannot we 
make our reading more select, our papers of a 
higher order, our writers take more pains with 
their productions? We are often afraid that 
if we try to give thought instead of words, we 
shall become dry, and the very light in which 
we place our ideas will seem dry — lumen sic- 
cum; but there is no danger, at this day, lest 
we dive out of sight, or weary the faculties of 
our readers by deep, original thought. On the 
other hand, there is great danger lest the press 
shall demand more and more in quantity, till 
our writers, like one in Horace, boast how. 
much they can write standing on one foot. 

They buy and sell wheat by its quality, and 
so of almost every thing that is merchantable. 



232 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Why can't brains bo treated in the same waj^? 
And is there no way by which those who cater 
to this "age of the press" can be made to mi- 
derstand that a single sentence or a single 
thought that will live to after-generations is 
worth more than a thousand ephemeral arti- 
cles struck off at a single sitting? I am not 
disposed to deny that an image or a great 
thought may, at times, flash across the mind 
in an instant. Perhaps the germ of all great 
thoughts thus springs up ; but that thought 
must be turned over and elaborated a great 
while before it is fit to be printed. What I 
wish is, that our readers of this generation 
would not demand such a great mass of mat- 
ter from the press. They don't read it, they 
can't digest it, and very much of it is not 
worth reading. Why can't we have less, and 
a better quality? And I wish that those who 
write (and who does not?) would understand 
that if they will only give us half as much in 
quantity, but of a superior quality, they shall 
have more pay in money and in our gratitude. 
If m}^ reader should say that such as write 
do not know what standard they do actually 



"THE AGE OF THE PRESS." 233 

rcacli, I reply, they do kiio\Y how mucli pains 
they take not to throw out crude thouglits 
tlirongh the press ; and they do know just 
how much hibor they have bestowed on their 
productions. If they do n't know, their read- 
ers do. 

I have no quarrel with this "age of the 
press." I realize that it is a mightj^ power 
for good or for evil; and those who write, 
and those who print for the Sabbath-schools 
and the children of this generation, and who 
speak to thousands through the press, ought 
to be very anxious to make their power the 
best possible for the good of men. They tread 
near presumption if they feel they may write 
any thing that will sell, or any thing that will 
be popular. Next to the pulpit, the press is 
a mighty power in the world. AYoe to us if 
we prostitute or abuse that power. 



234 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

XXXI. 

Hints to oui\^ Churches, 

There is a very general, if not universal, 
expectation among our churches that the won- 
derful providences through which we have 
been carried are to be followed hj a great 
and general revival of religion. It is not 
necessary to discuss the grounds of such an 
expectation. We all have it, ministers and 
people, more or less strong, that the excite- 
ment which has been awakened, and the activ- 
ities which have been generated the past few 
years will be used by the Spirit of the Lord 
for the quickening of our churches and the 
conversion of our people. In very many 
places the work has commenced, and the noise 
in the tops of the mulberry-trees is arousing 
many to be ready. As thus far developed, 
the movement seems to be marked by the fol- 
lowing characteristics : 

The movement is slow. There is no earth- 
quake, no wind, no bright fire, but a gradual, 



HINTS TO OUR CHURCHES. 235 

growing, slowly increasing solemnity on the 
people. So far as I hear, the ministry, as it 
should be — the eye and the ear and the month 
of the church — is first moved, first burdened, 
and first goes to work directly for the salva- 
tion of souls. 

So far, the work begins with the j'oung in 
the Sabbath -school, taking children from 
twelve years old and upward, to tweiit}' — a 
few older and a few j'ounger. The expecta- 
tion and the prayer is, that it will extend from 
the young upward. But this, so far, is the 
most fruitful field. 

As a consequence, we as yet do not find 
conviction of sin, deep, pungent, and over- 
wiielming. Sinners, trembling and (piaking 
in the old way, are not to be found. They 
doubtless will be when older persons are 
reached. We are not to be surprised at this. 
These youth cannot realize sin, when the out- 
ward manifestations of it have been so com- 
paratively w^eak. But convictions they will 
have after conversion, and indeed all the rest 
of their lives. 

Another consequent : there is compara- 



236 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

lively no great manifestation of joy. The 
chains have fallen off, but they were not felt 
to be so heavy as to make their dropping off 
heard and felt. The convert smiles and sings 
and loves. He has not been down deep with 
the bars of earth around him, and therefore 
he cannot exult. He has not been a cripple 
long years, and therefore he cannot run and 
leap and praise God as if he had been. But 
still, the marks of the work of the Spirit are 
on him, and the sealing thereof is plainly to 
be seen. 

The meetings hitherto most relied on, as 
they should be, are the prayer -meetings. 
They are full, solemn, and good. Much sing- 
ing is demanded, and employed to great ad- 
vantage. The praying is marked by solem- 
nity, dependence on God, large desire, and 
large faith. 

There is less of conviction and terror 
among backsliding Christians than usual in 
revivals. This is to be regretted, for our 
churches have been and are covetous, world- 
ly, prayerless to too great a degree, cold in 
heart, negligent in duty, absorbed in business, 



HINTS TO OUR CHURCHES. 237 

and conformed to the world. Wc should be 
dad to see the wanderers return, and with 
the mouth make confession unto life eternal. 
They have made and do now make business 
an excuse for neglecting every duty, except 
that of giving — a kind of buying-off process. 

I wish now to give a few hints to my 
brethren in the ministry and to our churches 
as to how and what it seems to me we should 
now do. 

1. Cultivate a large faith. Expect great 
things, pray for great things, attempt great 
things. Why may we not believe that God 
has raised up this nation to be a missionary 
and a model among the nations of the earth ; 
that he has carried us through the baptism of 
blood for this very purpose ; that he is going 
to follow it now by a great outpouring of the 
Spirit ; that the blessing is at our door ; that 
He has not created this universal expectation 
without intending to meet it, and that we may 
now, every one in his sphere, aid in this work 
of mercy. Let our faith embrace the nation. 
If we have not this faith, let us ask for it, seek 
it, cultivate it. It is easier for us to bend the 



238 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

bullrusli than the oak, but is any thing too 
hard for the Lord ? Oh, for a great faith. 

2. Let our dependence be very much, if 
not chiefly, on prayer. With me that is 
greater than all others. Let the prayer- 
meeting be filled, be opened often, and go out 
and ask the dreaming brethren and sisters to 
come in. Let the prayers be short, humble, 
tender, earnest, and solemn. Do n't spend so 
much time in "blessing God for the few drops," 
as in beseeching him for the "great rain of 
his strength." The prayer we need is that 
which comes from the burdened heart — the 
wrestling praj^er which turns the Jacobs into 
Israels. Let the singings be many, short, 
lively, and sweet. Don't drawl in this. A 
few should take it upon them to see that the 
singing is the music of the heart, the song of 
invitation, and the breathing of hope. Music 
in a revival should be adapted to our wants, 
as food and medicine are in certain states of 
the body. The almost universally good sing- 
ing in our Sabbath-schools gives us sweet sing- 
ers at hand. But they cannot sing the old 
tunes, the "Devizes," the "St. Martins," and 



HINTS TO OUR-CHURCHES. 239 

the "Stephens" of other days. Wc may la- 
ment that the age demands lighter food, but 
they must have the manna that is gathered 
while the dew is on it. 

3. Let the preaching be direct, pointed, 
uncompromising, solemn, and earnest. Let 
the sinner feel that he is standing before God 
face to face. Let him know what God de- 
mands, and how he owes the ten thousand tal- 
ents, and has nothing to pay. Do n't be anx- 
ious to give the sinner peace or comfort. Let 
him first feel his need of mercy. Go into his 
heart and bring out the rubbish and filth that 
have been accumulating there all his life. The 
sinner will not take hold of Christ's hand till 
he feels that he is sinking. Do n't be afraid 
to declare the great doctrines of the gospel, 
any more than Peter was in that great model 
revival-sermon on the day of Pentecost. But 
do n't depend so much on the preaching as on 
the praying. 

4. Don't begin to count up and proclaim 
and talk over the number of converts ; rather 
fix the mind and heart on the great number 
unconverted. The reaper is to look at the 



240 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

field not gathered, and press forward to get 
that in. Do n't, above all things, begin to ex- 
ult that Grod has done so much for your con- 
gregation, 3'our town and city, your denomi- 
nation. We must have larger views. We 
must have a greater faith. 

5. Take good care of the young converts — 
not to pet them, but to instruct them, train 
them, give them the right moulding. They 
are to be our churches, our ministers, our mis- 
sionaries. I am expecting that at least a thou- 
sand ministers are to come up out of the revi- 
vals of this 3^ear. See to it that they are the 
right coin, and have the right die stamped on 
them. Do n't hurry them into the church, but 
meet them, pray with them, instruct them, and 
keep your breath warm upon them. 

6. So far, we don't see that any new meas- 
ures are needed. In some places, clusters of 
churches have conferences, conventions, or 
something of that sort, and to very great ad- 
vantage. In 1831-2, we had "Four Days' 
Meetings," and a vast good they did. I am 
not afraid of "new measures," but we must 
rely on the Divine Spirit, on the sovereign 



HINTS TO OUK CHURCHES. 211 

mercy of God, and pray as if (Jud must do it 
all, and jet labor as if it all depended on our 
faithfulness. Wc cannot too deeply feel our 
dependence on the Holy Spirit. Wc cannot 
supersede our need of earnest prayer by any 
activity or bustle or outward demonstrations. 
It seems to me that never, in this generation, 
has so great a responsibility been thrown uj)on 
the ministers and the people of God, as at this 
time. He bids us to be up and work. Let 
the Aarons and the Hurs hold up the hands 
of the ministry, and let us at once arise and 
go up and possess the land. The fields are 
white for the harvest. AVho will be a reaper? 
Reader, will you ? 



11 



242 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 



XXXII. 

Why Thomas was not at the Prayer- 
meeting. 

"but thomas, one op the twelve, called 

DIDYMUS, "WAS NOT WITH THEM WHEN JESUS 
CAME." 

What do j^ou suppose was the reason that 
Thomas "was nol with them?" There must 
have been some reason, which he doubtless 
thought a good one. 

It was a prayer-meeting in the evening of 
the Lord's day, the very day on which He 
arose from the dead. It was a meeting of the 
"disciples" — not apostles merely — and Mary 
who wept at his tomb, and the mother of 
Jesus, and Martha and others of the sisters 
were doubtless present. 

It was a very remarkable meeting. It 
must have been in a private house. The 
doors were fastened for fear of the Jews, who 
had murdered and sealed their Master uj) in 



THE ABSENT DISCIPLE. 243 

the tomb, and who would now be cnra,G;cd 
because he had risen from the dead. While 
engaged in the meeting, tiie following remark- 
able events took place. 

The doors shut and fastened, Jesus came 
and stood among them. They knew his face, 
his form, his person, hi.s voice. 

The Saviour blessed them. "Peace be 
unto you." How did he know wdiere to lind 
them ? How did he enter the room? 

He "showed unto them his hands," 
through which the nails had been so lately 
driven, "and his side," the only side that had 
been pierced by a spear. 

The disciples all now saw him, were satis- 
fied that he had risen from the dead, and their 
faith and joy were full. "Then were the dis- 
ciples glad, when they saw the Lord." 

He blessed them the second time. "Then 
said Jesus to them again, Peace be unto 
you." 

He commissioned them to preach his gos- 
pel. "As my Father hath sent me, even so 
send I you." 

Then he breathed on them — how warm 



24:4: HINTS. AND THOUGHTS. 

and sweet that breath — and said, "Receive ye 
the Holy Ghost." 

He gave them power to declare sins for- 
given. "Whosesoever sins ye remit, they 
are remitt^ed unto them ; and whosesoever 
sins je retain, they are retained." 

What a prayer-meeting was that. How 
doubts melted away ; how fear fled from them ; 
how hope tuned their songs ; how joy lighted 
up their faces ; how life now seemed worth 
having ! Christ was in the meeting ; all were 
there except two — Judas, who had gone out 
and committed suicide and gone "to his own 
place," and one more. It was a great and 
most important meeting. "But," we are told, 
"Thomas, one of the twelve, called Didj^mus, 
was not with them when Jesus came." He 
didn't see the glorious face of the Master; he 
did n't hear his voice ; he did n't hear his 
blessing of peace ; he did n't see his hands and 
his side ; he did n't feel his breath upon him. 
He did n't feel the power of Christ dispelling 
his doubts and fears and cheering him from 
his disappointment; he didn't have the re- 
port of Mary and the women and of Peter, that 



THE ABSENT DISCIPLE. 245 

He had risen, confiriiied with liis own e^-es. 
No; he "was not tliere." There never was 
such a prayer-meeting held before ; there 
never will be another like it as long as the 
world lasts. But Thomas was not there 
"when Jesus came." 

His absence cost liim a great deal. His 
doubts and unbelief all hung upon him ; nay, 
they increased. It made him ill-natured. 
When they all, with beaming faces, told him 
what they had seen and felt and enjoyed, and 
the very w^ords of Christ, it only made him 
feel w^orse, till he declared that he would not 
believe, not he, unless he could put his fin- 
gers in the prints of the nails and thrust his 
hands into the side of the Redeemer. It cost 
him the fellowship of his brethren, Avhom he 
would not believe. It cost him another long 
week of doubts and darkness ; it cost him the 
reproof of his Saviour, and it might have cost 
him his soul. 

Why was Thomas absent from the prayer- 
meeting? If his excuse had been a good one, 
I think it would have been mentioned, or the 
bad consequences would not have followed 



246 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

which did follow. It is a significant fact that 
his absence is recorded for all ages to read 
and know. I have been trying to imagine a 
reason for this absence of Thomas from the 
prayer-meeting. And it 's very plain that it 
might have been one of several reasons. 

1. Thomas might say, "The Sabbath is 
God's appointment, and the service of the 
temple — the morning and the evening sacri- 
fices. But this prayer-meeting — it's a mere 
human thing ; it was got up by the brethren, 
and there 's no evidence that it is according to 
the mind of G-od." 

But, Thomas, is there not another way 
by which we may come at the will of God, so 
plain that it do n't need to be put in the Bible? 
Why do men eat at regular hours, and sleep 
and rest at regular hours ? Because it 
grows out of a necessity of their nature. 
y Gvj well; and the social prayer -meeting 
grows out of the necessity of our moral na- 
ture. Good people, in all ages, have/e/i! this 
necessity, and acted on it. They did so in 
olden times when " they that feared the Lord 
spake often one to another," "and the Lord 



THE ABSENT DISCIPLE. 247 

hearkened and heard it." They did so when- 
ever they were in distress, or Avhen religion 
was in danger. The maidens of Esther fasted 
and prayed together. So did Daniel and his 
companions. We must have social prayer in 
order to have spiritual life. It grows out of 
our nature. You grow cold, you grow unbe- 
lieving, you lose the comforts of religion with- 
out it. You have no formal, exi)licit, divine 
appointment for family prayer ; but it grows 
out of the very nature of the family relations, 
and God w^ill " pour out his fury upon the 
families that call not on his name." You 
know that Abraham prayed w'itli and for his 
family ; so did David ; so did Christ. So have 
good men in all ages. The ver}' constitution 
of a family requires family worship, and you 
can't neglect it and not feel that something is 
wanting. You don't ask for chapter and 
verse to find that it is the will of God, nor do 
we that it is his will that men shall attend the 
social prayer-meeting. But perhaps this w^as 
not the reason why Thomas "was not there 
when Jesus came." 

2. lie mio-ht have been a man of ^reat 



248 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

taste, one who loved the magnificent temple- 
service, one wlio enjoyed "the cymbals" and 
"the cornets" and "the organ," "the trum- 
pets" and "the shawms" — the voices of the 
trained choir made Chenaniah the master of 
song ; but he could n't enjoy that prayer-meet- 
ing. Why, they only read a chapter in the 
Bible, and then they sung — and such singing ! 
Why, there was Peter's rough, heavy voice, 
alwaj^s out of tune ; and there was Matthew, 
always humming on one cord ; and there was 
Bartholomew, always pitching the tune too 
high or too low, sometimes almost breaking 
down, and often drawling over the same 
old tunes. Oh, if they could only have had 
such singing at the prayer-meeting as they 
had at the great temple. Alas, Thomas can't 
enjoy such singing. 

And then his taste is offended again at the 
manner of conducting the meeting. What 
tame work they make of talking. How they 
tell over the words which they heard Christ 
speak, again and again. How they tell of his 
calling them, again and again. How Thomas 
has to hear about the same thing over and 



THE ABSENT DISCIPLE. 249 

over, Avhcu lie wants" to lieur soiuetliiiig origi- 
nal, something startling. Oh, if Gamaliel, or 
some great doctor of divinity, conld lead the 
meeting and i)onr out an eloquent disserta- 
tion ; if some learned scribe would come in 
and lead the meeting and tell us all ho knew ; 
hut Thomas never enjoys meetings conducted 
by laymen. He finds fault because they sing 
old tunes, when he knows they can't sing any 
other. His taste is oflended because the 
brethren talk and pray so uninterestingly, 
when he knows that he never set a better ex- 
ample of a rightly-conducted meeting. The 
carriage is small, but he wants a steam-engine 
to draw it. Or perhaps this is not the rea- 
son why Thomas "was not there when Jesus 
came." 

,3. He might have said. "I have, been at 
work hard all the day, and I am weary and 
dull, and now if I go up half or three-quarters 
of a mile to the meeting, I shall get no good ; 
and there will be enough there without me ; 
the meeting will go on. I am sure that when 
one has been hard at work all the day, he 
ought to be excused from going up the dark 
11* 



250 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

Street to find a prajer-meeting. Besides, if I 
want to go to a meeting, I can just step into 
one of the synagogues near by; to be sure, 
they might reject and scoff at my Master, but 
they wont recognize me as a disciple, and I 
shall be careful and not tell them. Of course 
it can't be expected that working-people like 
me shall go to the prayer-meeting. To be 
sure, if I had had nothing to do all the day 
but sit round and hear and tell the news, I 
should go ; but as it is, I am tired, and do n't 
feel very well, and very likely that close 
room, with all the doors shut, will give me 
the headache and unfit me for the duties of 
to-morrow." 

But perhaps that was not the reason why 
Thomas was not at the prayer-meeting when 
Jesus came in and blessed it. 

4. He is a man of many acquaintances, 
perhaps, and last night he was at a party at 
the house of Zabdi the son of Zechariah, near 
the temple, and the party was very large and 
very fashionable, and Thomas stayed very 
late. It was a delightful party, and the en- 
tertainment was fine, and there were many 



THE A13SENT DLSCITLE. 251 

strangers from abroad, and (lie inusie was ex- 
quisite, and the dancing was continued till a 
very late hour, and somehow or other Thomas 
don't feel like going to the [)ravcr-niecting 
to-night. James and John and Peter do n't 
seem so refined, nor such real gentlemen, as 
those he met at Zabdi's house. The women 
who will be there — the sisters of Lazarus and 
Joses, and a few others — seem ver}'^ ordinary 
people compared with those at the party. lie 
wonders W'hy those who go to prayer-meeting 
need be such common sol't of people. Not a 
scribe, not a Pharisee, not a single real gen- 
tleman, as the world would call them, among 
them all. He wonders why it is that going to 
the party should make him avoid the jirayer- 
meeting. He knows that the good people won't 
say a word about it ; perhaps they do n't know 
of it. He knows he can go in late,. and take 
a seat down near the door ; but what if they 
should notice him and ask him to take a part. 
What if he should hear Peter's strong voice 
calling out, " AVill brother Thomas please to 
lead us in prayer ?" He knows he is in no state 
for that, and so he will stay away to-night. 



252 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

But perhaps tins was not the reason why 
Thomas "was not with them when Jcsns 
came." 

5. It may have been that he did calculate 
to go, had the evening been very pleasant. But 
it looks likely to rain, and the streets are mud- 
dy, and his sandals are not very good, and it 
is a long way off, and so he concludes he will 
not attend the prayer-meeting to-night. To 
be sure, he has been up town several times 
during the day on business, notwithstanding 
the broken strap of his sandal, and the deep 
mud. To be sure, he went much farther last 
evening to get to Zabdi's house. But that was 
not a praj'er-mceting. Parties do n't come off 
every week, but the prayer-meeting does. 
Kain and mud do not keep Thomas at home, 
except from the praj^er-meeting. 

But perhaps this was not the reason why 
Thomas " was not with them when Jesus 
came." 

6. Might it not have been that he did not 
want to hear his imperfect brethren pray ? 
There were James and John, who once wanted 
to call down fire from heaven and burn up their 



TKE ABSENT DISCIPLE. 253 

Master's enemies ; mid tliosc two wiinted to 
be great oflicers, and stand on the right hand 
and on the left of the Saviour in his king(h)ni. 
How sliall lie hear such vindictive, ambitious 
men pray in meeting. And there is Peter, 
sure to be foremost in speaking and praying, 
the man who has just lieen denying his Lord 
with cursing and swearing — how can he liear 
him pray? And there is Mary Magdalene, 
out of whom went seven devils ; she Avill be 
there, and be sure to sing louder than anybody 
else. Thomas wishes the prayer-meeting was 
composed of moro perfect characters. There 
is nobody there to make it respectable. Nic- 
odemus won't be there, and Joseph of Arima- 
tliea won't be there — not a single upright, 
moral, faultless Pharisee ; not a single man 
who is known in Jerusalem as a nobleman, a 
great man, or a rich man. But every prayer 
will be offered and every hymn will be sung 
by such as Thomas knows are very imperfect 
men. He knows all their weaknesses, and so 
he can't enjoy the services. If it were only 
in some great hall, where there would be a 
great crowd of people, *aiid where some great 



264 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

orator who had come from Corinth or from 
Damascus or from Eome, were to lecture "on 
the times," there would be no difficulty ; 
Thomas would be sure to be there. Indeed, 
almost any thing would bring him out, except 
the prayer-meeting. He says he 's not edi- 
fied by that. It is too dull, too monotonous, 
and too tame. He feels that he is not bound 
to go any where or do any thing in which he 
has not present, personal enjoyment. He is 
bound to do only what he feels adds to his 
own comfort. It is not a question with him 
whether his presence or absence will encour- 
age or discourage his brethren, but what will 
be for his own greatest enjoyment. 

But perhaps this was not the reason why 
Thomas ' ' was not with them when Jesus 
came." 

7. Perhaps he would say, "I can't bear 
the hot, close room, where there is no venti- 
lation, and I am almost sure to take cold when 
I come out in the evening air." And yet he 
knows that the prayer-meeting will be only an 
hour long, and he has already said there will 
not be over twelve or 'fifteen present; and he 



THE ABSENT DISCIPLE. 255 

knows that he goes into other crowded rooms 
where there is no ventilation, and stays there 
many hours, and his constitution is able to 
endure it. lie do n't remember ever taking 
cold on such an occasion — never. 

8. Perhaps he is afraid of the Jews, afraid 
that they will come uj^on them and put them 
in prison ; and yet it is but a few days since 
he was urging that all the disciples should go 
into Judea with Christ and die with him there. 
Courage was the very last thing he would 
allow to be wanting in his case. 

9. Perhaps he has some hard feeling tow- 
ards some one of the disciples. Peter or 
some one has spoken unkindly to him or of 
him, and it rankles in his heart. He don't 
want to attend a prayer-meeting where such 
men meet to pray. It would be far better, he 
thinks, if they would come and ask his pardon 
before going into the meeting. Or, 

10. Perhaps he has been driving a hard 
bargain to-day, and by concealing or by over-, 
stating has made such a bargain and gained 
such an advantage as he would not like to have 
another gain over him, and somehow it hap- 



256 . HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

pens that he do n't exactly feel like going to 
that prayer-meeting to-night. He do n't know 
precisely what the reason is, but he thinks he 
will stay away. And if any one of the breth- 
ren should ask him why he was not there, he 
can say that "it was not convenient," he "had 
a headache," or something else. Or, 

11. Perhaps Thomas was discouraged. He 
had seen that his Master was put to death, 
and he forgets that this very event w^as fore- 
told by him ; he has seen him put in the tomb 
and the tomb sealed, and the Eoman soldiers 
set to guard it, and he forgets that his Master 
said he would rise again on the third day. It 
is reported indeed that "the Lord is risen," 
and has been seen of Mary and of Peter ; but 
in a time of such " excitement," nobody is to 
be trusted. He is told that the disciples are 
to have a prayer-meeting to-night, to com- 
pare notes and to see what the evidence is that 
the Lord has risen. But Thomas has made up 
his mind that it is all a delusion of the imagi- 
nation, and he will not go. He knows that 
Christ told him that wherever "two or three 
should gather together in his name, there he 



THE ABSENT DISCITLE. 257 

would be ill the midst of tliem ;" but Christ is 
dead, and how can a dead man be there. No ; 
all his hopes have been disappointed. lie had 
hoped that the prophecies and the expectation 
of all the churches in past ages, and "the 
Desire of all nations'* was come, but all this 
seems to be at an end. Christ is dead ; and 
he does not, cannot, and will not believe that 
he will ever rise again. 

So he sunk in discouragement and gloom, 
and felt morose, and stayed' away from the 
.prayer-meeting. "And Thomas was not with 
them when Jesus came." But perhaps, after 
all, I have not jct given the real reason why 
Thomas was not with them. I can think of 
but one more, and that I shall leave you to 
conjecture. 

Perhaps it was the first meeting of the kind 
he had ever been absent from. Perhaps he 
was very often absent, and this was his cus- 
tom. But we have no evidence that he was 
ever absent from another. I will not say he 
never was, but hope he was not. 

But how much he lost. There they met, 
closing the doors and windows, drawing the 



258 niNTS AND THOUGHTS. 

bolts. There was Peter, the tears of repent- 
ance hardly dr}^ upon his cheeks, his eyes red 
with his late weeping, and yet the flush of joy 
on his face, because his Master has alread}^ 
met him, and showed himself alive, and for- 
given him. How he wants to shout and tell 
of the mercy. There is John, subdued, ten- 
der, and loving. Leaning on his arm came in 
Mary the mother of Jesus, and now his own 
adopted mother. He stood with her near the 
cross, and heard the last prayer, and saw the 
last heaving of the breast as his Lord died. 
And there are they all ; some faces clouded 
still with doubts and fears ; some looking 
blank, neither believing nor disbelieving ; 
some radiant with hope and joy — not a doubt 
but the mysterious One has risen. How they 
sing from the heart. And now they all kneel 
in prayer. John is leading them in prayer. 
What a stillness pervades the room. How 
simple and how beautiful John's prayer. And 
now they rise from their knees, and Jesus 
stands in the midst of them, just as he said he 
would, only the eye can see him now. How 
awful his presence, his power. They gaze at 



THE ABSENT DISCIPLE. 251) 

him ill silence, not even Peter daring to speak. 
And now Christ speaks : "Peace be unto j'ou." 
Ah, it's his own voice, it's his own face, his 
own f 07^1, It is the Lord himself, risen from 
the dead ! 

What a means of grace was that prayer- 
meeting. What spiritual mercies flowed 
through it. In all Jerusalem, in all the globe, 
was there any gathering to be compared with 
that? Would it not have been better to be 
absent from any meeting ever held than from 
that? "And Thomas was not with them when 
Jesus came." So he was left to doubts and 
darkness and gloom. The testimony of his 
brethren made no impression on him. The 
ver}' words which his Master spoke to them 
were disbelieved. And what a reproof and 
rebuke awaited him for his unbelief, which 
would all have been gone had he been at the 
prayer-meeting. 

"These things are written for our instruc- 
tion and admonition." I don't know as I 
have suggested the true reason why Thomas 
was not with them at the prayer-meeting 
when Jesus came. You can decide as well 



260 HINTS AND THOUGHTS. 

as I. But there must have beeu a good rea- 
son why the account is written in the word of 
God. In reading the account, it always makes 
me feel sad that at this wonderful, joyful, 
most important prayer-meeting, "Thomas was 
not with them when Jesus came." 



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