The Principles and Purposes of Life.

"The heart of him that hath understanding, seeketh knowledge."—Prov. xv. 14.

he practical wisdom of Solomon is seen in this simple precept. The youthful, who have the slightest understanding of the journey of life—who have been impressed, even in the smallest degree, with the perils to which they are exposed; the trials to be endured; the vicissitudes through which they must necessarily pass; the obstacles they must overcome; the deceptions and allurements they will have to detect and withstand—cannot fail to acknowledge the wisdom of seeking for knowledge to enlighten and prepare for the exigencies which await the inexperienced traveller through this world's wayward scenes.

Those who commence their career without forethought, or discrimination in regard to the moral principles by which they will be governed, and without selecting the best and safest path of the many which open before them, are involved in a blindness of the most pitiable description. They would not manifest this want of discretion on matters of much less importance. The commander of the ship does not venture his voyage to sea without his compass, his chart, and a full supply of stores. We would not sail an hour with him, if we believed him ignorant or indifferent to the necessity of these important preparations. How hazardous, how foolish the youth who launches away on the momentous voyage of life, without compass, or chart, or any preparation which extends beyond the present moment. True, the ship destitute of all these essentials, may leave the harbor in safety, with her gay pennons flying, her swelling sails filled with a favorable breeze, a smiling sun above, a smooth sea beneath, and all the outward indications of a prosperous voyage. But follow her a few hours. The terrific storm-king spreads abroad his misty pinions, and goes forth in fury, ploughing up the waters into mountain billows, and shrieking for his prey. The gloomy night settles down upon the bosom of the mighty deep, and spreads its dark pall over sea and sky. Muttering thunders stun the ear, and the lightning's vivid flash lights up the terrific scene, and reveals all its indescribable horrors. Where now is the gay ship which ventured forth without needful preparation? Behold her, tossed to and fro by the angry waves. All on board are in alarm! The fierce winds drive her on, they know not whither. Hark to that fearful roar! It is the fatal breakers! Hard up the helm! Put the ship about! See, on every hand frowns the fatal lee-shore! Pull taught each rope—spread every sail. It is in vain! Throw out the anchors! Haste! strain every nerve! Alas! It is all too late. The danger cannot be escaped. On drifts the fated craft. Now she mounts the crest of an angry wave, which hurries forward with its doomed burthen. Now she dashes against the craggy points of massive rocks, and sinks into the raging deep. One loud, terrific wail is heard, and all is silent! On the rising of the morrow's sun, the spectator beholds the beach and the neighboring waters strewn with broken masts, rent sails, and drifting fragments—all that remains of the proud ship which yesterday floated so gaily on the ocean waters!!

Behold, O ye youthful, a picture of the fate of those who rush upon the career of life, without forethought or preparation, and without the light of well-selected moral principles to guide them. All may appear fair and promising at the outset, and for a season. But before many years can elapse, the prospects of such youth must be overclouded; and ere long disappointment, overthrow, disgrace and ruin, will be the closing scenes of a life, commenced in so much blindness.

"Well begun is half done," was one of Dr. Franklin's sound maxims. A career well begun—a life commenced properly, with wise forecast, with prudent rules of action, and under the influence of sound and pure, moral and religious principles—is an advance, half-way at least, to ultimate success and prosperity. Such a commencement will not, it is true, insure you against the misfortunes which are incident to earthly existence. But if persevered in, it will guard you against the long catalogue of evils, vexatious penalties and wretchedness, which are the certain fruit of a life of immorality; and will bestow upon you all the real enjoyments, within the earthly reach of man.

As people advance in years, they perceive more and more the importance of commencing life properly.

See that wretched outcast! Poor and miserable, shunned by all but depraved associates, he drags out the worthless remnant of his days. Does he think he has acted wisely? Hark to his soliloquy—"Oh, could I begin life again:—could I but live my days over once more—how different the course I would pursue. Instead of rushing on blindly and mindlessly, without forethought or care, and allowing myself to become an easy prey to temptation and sin, I would reflect maturely, and choose wisely the path for my footsteps. Faithfully I would search for the way of virtue, honesty, sobriety, and goodness, and strictly would I walk therein!" The opportunity he so eagerly covets, and to obtain which he would deem no sacrifice too great, is now before every youth in the assembly.

This thought is beautifully elaborated in the following allegory:

"It was midnight of the new year, and an aged man stood thoughtfully at the window. He gazed with a long, despairing look, upon the fixed, eternal, and glorious heaven, and down upon the silent, still, and snow-white earth, whereon was none so joyless, so sleepless as he. For his grave stood open near him; it was covered only with the snows of age, not decked with the green of youth; and he brought with him, from a long and rich life, nothing save errors, crimes, and sickness—a wasted body, a desolate soul, a breast filled with poison, and an old age heavy with repentance and sorrow. The fair days of his youth at this hour, arose like spectres before his mind, and carried him back to the bright morning, when his father had first planted him at the starting-point of life; whence, to the right, the way conducts along the sunny path of virtue, to a wide and peaceful land, a land of light, rich in the harvest of good deeds, and full of the joy of angels; whilst, to the left, the road descends to the molehills of vice, toward a dark cavern, full of poisonous droppings, stinging serpents, and dank and steaming mists.

"The serpents clung around his breast, and the drops of poison lay upon his tongue, and he knew not where he was.

"Senseless and in unutterable anguish, his cry went forth to heaven: 'Grant me but youth again! O, father, place me but once again upon the starting-point of life, that I may choose otherwise!'

"But his father and his youth were far away. He beheld wandering lights dance upon the marshes, and disappear upon the graveyards; and he exclaimed, 'These are my days of folly!'

"He beheld a star shoot through the heaven, and vanish: it glimmered as it fell, and disappeared upon the earth. 'Such, too, am I!' whispered his bleeding heart; and the serpent-tooth of remorse struck afresh into its wounds.

"His heated fancy pictured to him night-wandering forms slow-creeping upon the house-tops; the windmill raised its arm, and threatened to fell him to the earth; and in the tenantless house of death, the only remaining mask assumed imperceptibly his own features.

"At once, in the midst of this delirium, the sounds from the steeple, welcoming the new year, fell upon his ear, like distant church music.

"He was moved, but to a gentler mood. He gazed around, unto the horizon, and looked forth upon the wide earth; and he thought of the friends of his youth, who, happier and better than he, were now teachers upon the earth, fathers of happy children, and blessed each in his condition.

"'Alas! and I, too, like ye, might now be sleeping peacefully and tearless through this first night of the year, had I willed so! I too might have been happy, ye dear parents, had I fulfilled your new-year's wishes and admonitions!'

"In the feverish reminiscences of his youth, it seemed to him as if the mask which had assumed his features in the house of death arose, and grew into a living youth, and his former blooming figure stood before him in the bitter mockery of illusion.

"He could look no longer; he hid his eyes, a flood of hot tears streamed forth and were lost in the snow. And he sighed, now more gently, and despairing, 'Return but again, O youth, come once again!'

"And youth did return; for he had but dreamed thus fearfully in the new-year's night. He was still young; but his sinful wanderings, they had been no dream; and he thanked God that he could yet turn from the miry ways of vice, and again choose the sunny path which leadeth unto the pure land of the harvest of righteousness.

"Turn thou with him, young man, if thou standest upon his path of error. This fearful dream will in a future be thy judge; but shouldst thou ever exclaim, in the bitterness of remorse, 'Return, fair time of youth!'—youth will not come when thou dost call for her."

It is much easier to start right and keep right, than to start wrong, and then endeavor to get right. Although those who take the wrong path at the commencement, should afterwards seek to obtain the right one, and persevere until they find it, still the labor to retrieve the early error will be difficult. It is painful to walk in the way of wickedness—it is painful to break away from it, when once there. It is painful to continue on—it is painful to turn back. This is in consequence of the nature of sin. It is a path all evil, all pain, all darkness—everything connected with it is fruitful of wretchedness. Those who stray therein, find themselves beset with perils and troubles on all sides. Avoid it, as you love happiness!

"Ne'er till to-morrow's light delay
What may as well be done to-day;
Ne'er do to-day, what on the morrow
Will wring your heart with sighs and sorrow."

A young man may, in early life, fall into vicious habits, and afterwards turn from them. Some have done so. But they declare that the struggles they were compelled to make—the conflicts and trials, the buffeting of evil passions, and the mental agony they endured, in breaking away, were terrible beyond description. Where one, who has fallen into bad habits in youth, has afterwards abandoned them, there are a score who have continued their victims, until ruin, and a premature death, closed their career. How much safer, how much easier and pleasanter, how much more promising and hopeful, to commence life with good habits well established, with high principles, sound maxims, enlightened rules of conduct, deeply fixed in the soul. This is a plain, pleasant, prosperous path—readily found, and easily followed. In no other can you secure true enjoyment.

"We cannot live too slowly to be good
And happy, nor too much by line and square.
But youth is burning to forestall its nature,
And will not wait for time to ferry it
Over the stream; but flings itself into
The flood and perishes. *******
The first and worst of all frauds is to cheat
Oneself. **************"

There is nothing more essential to the young than to accustom themselves to mature reflection, and practical observation, in regard to the duties of life, and the sources of human enjoyment. This is a task, however, which but few of the youthful are inclined to undertake. The most of them are averse to giving up their thoughts to sober meditation on the consequences which accrue from different courses of conduct, or to practical observation on the lessons taught by the experience of others. The Present!—the Present!—its amusements, its gayeties, its fashions, absorbs nearly all their thoughts. They have little relish to look towards the future, except to anticipate the continuance of the novelty and joyousness of the spring-time of life. The poet utters a most salutary admonition in his beautiful lines:

"The beam of the morning, the bud of the Spring,
The promise of beauty and brightness may bring;
But clouds gather darkness, and touched by the frost,
The pride of the plant, and the morning are lost.
Thus the bright and the beautiful ever decay—
Life's morn and life's flowers, oh, they quick pass away!"

I would not cast one unnecessary shadow on the pathway of the young; but they should be often reminded, that the season of youth, with its romance and light-heartedness, soon, too soon, departs! Spring, with its budding beauties, and fragrant blossoms, does not continue all the year. It is speedily followed by the fervid summer, the mature and sober autumn, and the dreary snows of winter. In order to have thriving and promising fields in summer, rich and abundant harvests in autumn, and bountiful supplies for comfort and repose in winter, "good seed" must be sowed in the spring. So, also, if you would have the summer of life fruitful of prosperity—its autumn yield a rich and bountiful harvest, and the winter of old age made comfortable and peaceful—the good seed of pure habits, and sound moral and religious principles, must be carefully sowed in the rich soil of the heart, in the budding spring-time of youth.

Due observation and reflection will enable the young to sow the right kind of seed at the right time. There is much in this. Those who sow late will be likely to have their harvest blighted by chilling rains and nipping frosts. The earlier the seed is cast into the ground, the greater the certainty that it will produce an abundant crop. Reflection and discrimination are all-essential to the youthful. Those who think deeply will act wisely. They will detect and avoid the dangers which beset their pathway, and into which the thoughtless so easily fall. They will readily penetrate the specious appearance, the harmless aspect, the deceptive veil, which vice and immorality can so readily assume. They will understand the old maxim, that "all is not gold that glitters." This is a simple truth, and yet how few of the young practise upon it. See this young man. How easily he gives way to temptation—how readily he is led astray. Why does he thus turn aside from virtue's path? Why thus trample upon the affectionate counsel and admonition of wise parents and kind friends? Ah! he sees a glittering bauble in the way of sin, and imagines it is the shining of the gold of true and solid happiness. Eagerly he presses on to secure the prize. He plunges into the wickedness to which, it tempts him—he seizes the dazzling treasure, and finds—what? Pure gold?—true delight?—unalloyed happiness? Alas, foolish youth! No! That which he took for the glitter of gold, proves to be worthless ashes in his hand. And the high pleasure he was anticipating, results in naught but disappointment, disgrace, wretchedness.

"Teach me the flattering paths to shun,
In which the thoughtless many run;
Who for a shade the substance miss,
And grasp their ruin in their bliss."

A well-established habit of practical observation, enables the youthful to guard against the mistakes of conduct, into which others have fallen, and to make the shortcomings of their fellow-beings, salutary admonitions for their own instruction. When thoughtful, observing young persons, see an individual do a mean, unmanly action, they will reflect much upon it. They will notice how contemptible it makes him appear—how it degrades him in the estimation of the honorable and high-minded—how it belittles him in the view of society at large—and how unworthy it makes him appear even in his own eyes. These observations, if faithfully made, will guard them against like acts themselves.

When they behold one arraigned at the bar of public justice, to answer to the offended laws of his country, they will make it a salutary lesson of instruction. They will realize the deceptive and ruinous nature of wrong-doing—how, while promising them the very elixir of happiness, it pours naught but bitterness and poison into the cup of life, entailing degradation and wretchedness upon its victims. They will become satisfied of the solemn truth of the words of the Most High, that "though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not be unpunished."

When they see neighbors, who might promote each other's enjoyments, by living peaceably together, fall out in regard to some trivial misunderstanding, and engage in angry disputes, and a bitter warfare, disturbing the harmony of the neighborhood, and destroying their own happiness—the young who exercise practical observation, will be instructed, to avoid similar troubles in their own affairs. They will realize the folly and blindness of such a course, and the necessity of exercising a forbearing and forgiving spirit, and the wisdom of submitting to injuries, if need be, rather than to become involved in angry recriminations and hostilities.

Thus by a constant habit of observation and reflection, the youthful can turn the failings of others to their own account. As the industrious bee extracts honey from the most nauseous substances, so can the thoughtful and observing draw instruction not only from the example of the wise, but from the folly of the wicked!

In preparations for future usefulness and success, the young should establish certain fixed principles of moral conduct, by which they will be steadfastly governed in all their intercourse with the world. Without some well-defined landmarks, by which they can be guided in emergencies, when everything depends on the course of conduct to be pursued, they will be in imminent peril. Temptations are strewed along the pathway of the young, and assail them at every turn. If they could clearly contemplate the effects of giving way to temptation—were all the unhappy consequences to stand out visibly before them—they would never be induced to turn aside into sin. Could the young man as he is tempted to quaff the fashionable glass of intoxicating beverage, see plainly the ignominious life, the poverty and wretchedness, and the horrid death by delirium tremens, to which it so often leads, he would set it down untasted, and turn away in alarm. But it is the nature of temptation to blind and deceive the unwary, and lead them into sin, by false representations of the happiness to be derived from it. Hence the young need to establish, in their calm, cool moments, when under the influence of mature judgment and enlightened discretion, certain fixed rules of conduct, by which they will be governed, and on which they will depend in every hour of temptation.

One of the first and most important rules of life which should be established by the youthful, is the constant cultivation of purity of heart. This is the great safeguard of the young. It is their brightest jewel—their most attractive ornament—the crowning glory of their character and being. It adds a captivating lustre to all charms of whatever description; and without it all other excellencies are lost in perpetual darkness. It should be a fixed rule, never to violate the dictates of purity either in action, language, or thought. Many imagine it is a matter of small moment what their thoughts may be, so long as in action they do not transgress the requirements of virtue. This, however, is a serious error. The outward action is but the expression of the inward thought. Wicked deeds would never have birth, were they not first prompted by wicked desires. Hence if the young would have their words and deeds characterized by purity, they must see that their hearts and thoughts are constantly pure.

"Pure thoughts are angel visitants! Be such
The frequent inmates of thy guileless breast.
They hallow all things by their sacred touch,
And ope the portals of the land of rest."

The heart is the source of all actions. A dark, muddy fountain cannot send forth clear waters. Neither does a pure fountain send forth muddy waters. A foul heart, the receptacle of unclean thoughts and impure passions, is a corrupt well-spring of action, which leads to every vicious practice. Let the hearts of the youthful be pure as crystal, let their thoughts be sanctified by virtue and holiness; and their lives shall be as white and spotless as the driven snow—winning the admiration of all who know them. With purity as a shield, they are doubly guarded against sin. However enticing temptation may be—however artfully or strongly it may assail them—they are prepared to rise above it, in any and every emergency.

Another of the fixed rules of conduct should be to aim high in all the purposes of life. The great obstacle to success with many of the young, is that they adopt no standard of action for their government; but allow themselves to float along the current of time like a mere straw on the surface of the waters, liable to be veered about by every puff of wind and whirling eddy! If the current in which they float happens to waft them into the smooth waters, and the calm sunshine of virtue and respectability, it is a matter of mere fortunate chance. If they are drawn into the dark stream of sin, they have but little power to resist, and are soon hurried into the surging rapids, and hurled over the boiling cataract of ruin! True, they may not utterly perish even in plunging down the cataract. They may possibly seize hold of some jutting rock below, and by a desperate effort drag themselves from the raging waters. But they will come forth bruised, bleeding, strangling, and half-drowned, to mourn the folly of their thoughtlessness. How much wiser and better to have taken early precaution, and guarded in the first place against the insidious current, which compelled them to purchase wisdom at so dear a rate.

To avoid this great folly, the youthful should establish a fixed purpose for life. They should set their mark, as to what they wish to become; and then make it the great labor of their lives to attain it. And let that mark be a high one. You cannot make it too elevated. The maxim of the ancients was, that although he who aims at the sun will not hit it, yet his arrows will fly much higher than though his mark was on the earth. A young man who should strive to be a second Washington or Jefferson, might not attain to their renown. But he would become a much greater and better man, than though he had only aspired to be the keeper of a gambling-house, or the leader of a gang of blacklegs. In all your purposes and plans of life, aim high!

"Again a light boat on a streamlet is seen,
Where the banks are o'erladen with beautiful green,
Like a mantle of velvet spread out to the sight,
Reflects to the gazer a bright world of light.
The fair bark has lost none of its beauty of yore,
But a youth is within it,—the fair child before;
And the Angel is gone—on the shore see him stand,
As he bids him adieu with a wave of the hand.
Ah! a life is before thee—a life full of care,
Gentle Youth, and mayhap thou wilt fall in its snare.
Can thy bark speed thee now? without wind, without tide?
Without the kind Angel, thy beautiful guide?
Ah! no;—then what lures thee, fair youth, to depart?
Must thou rush into danger from impulse of heart?
Lo! above in the bright arch of Heaven I see
The vision, the aim so alluring to thee:
'Tis the temple of Fame, with its pillars so fair,
And the Genius of Wisdom and Love reigneth there.
Advance then, proud vessel,—thy burden is light,—
Swift speed thee, and guide his young steps in the right;
For in life's 'fitful changes' are many dark streams,
And paths unillumed by the sun's golden beams."

Cherish self-respect. Have a deep regard for your own estimation of your own merits. Look with scorn and contempt upon low and vicious practices. Cultivate pride of character. I care not how proud the youthful are of all their valuable attainments, their correct habits, their excellings in that which is manly, useful, and good. The more pride of this description, the better. Though it should reach even to egotism and vanity, it is much better than no pride in these things. This pride in doing right is one of the preserving ingredients, the very salt of man's moral character, which prevents from plunging into vice.

Live for something besides self. Build with your own hands, the monument that shall perpetuate your memory, when the dust has claimed your body. Do good. Live for others, if you would be embalmed in their recollections.

"Thousands of men breathe, move, and live—pass off the stage of life, and are heard of no more. Why! They did not a particle of good in the world; and none were blessed by them; none could point to them as the instruments of their redemption; not a line they wrote, not a word they spoke could be recalled, and so they perished; their light went out in darkness, and they were not remembered more than the insects of yesterday. Will you thus live and die, O man immortal? Live for something. Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue that the storm of time can never Destroy. Write your name by kindness, love, and mercy, on the hearts of the thousands you come in contact with year by year, and you will never be forgotten. No, your name—your deeds—will be as legible on the hearts you leave behind, as the stars on the brow of evening. Good deeds will shine as brightly on the earth as the stars of heaven."[1]

"Up! it is a glorious era!
Never yet has dawned its peer;
Up, and work! and then a nobler
In the future shall appear.
'Onward!' is the present's motto,
To a larger, higher life;
'Onward!' though the march be weary,
Though unceasing be the strife.

"Pitch not here thy tent, for higher
Doth the bright ideal shine,
And the journey is not ended
Till thou reach that height divine.
Upward! and above earth's vapors,
Glimpses shall to thee be given,
And the fresh and odorous breezes,
Of the very hills, of heaven."

[1]

Dr. Chalmers.

Among the fixed principles which you should establish for your government, by no means overlook Honesty and Integrity. The poet never uttered a truer word than that

"An honest man's the noblest work of God."

Honesty is approved and admired by God and man—by all in heaven, and by all on earth. Even the corrupt swindler, in his heart, respects an honest man, and stands abashed in his presence.

In all your actions, in all your dealings, let strict and rigid honesty guide you. Never be tempted to swerve from its dictates, even in the most trivial degree. There will be strong allurements to entice you from this path. The appetite for gain—the voice of avarice—will often whisper that honesty may be violated to advantage. There will be times when it will seem that its dictates may be placed aside—that a little dishonesty will be greatly to your benefit. Believe not this syren song. This is the time you are in the most danger of being deceived to your serious injury. Although there may be occasions when you will seem actually to lose by adhering to honesty, yet you should not shrink a hair's breadth. Whatever you may lose, in a pecuniary point of view, at any time, by a strict submission to honesty, you will make up an hundred-fold in the long-run, by establishing and preserving a reputation for integrity. Looking at it in simply a pecuniary point of view, community will give their countenance, their patronage, and business, much quicker to a man who has established a reputation for honesty, than to one who is known, or suspected of being fraudulent in his dealings. Every consideration which can bear upon the young, religious, moral and pecuniary, unite to urge them to establish, in the outset of life, the rule of unswerving honesty and integrity, as their constant guide. Let it not be forgotten, that in every possible point of view, and in every conceivable condition of things, it will always be true, that "Honesty is the best policy."

I would have the young also cultivate and establish as it fixed rule of life, a friendly and accommodating disposition. This is all-essential to make their days pleasant and happy. Other virtues will influence the world to respect you; but an affectionate disposition will cause those with whom you have intercourse, to love you. Those who wish the friendship and good will of others, must themselves manifest a friendly disposition, and a spirit of kindness. Whoever would be accommodated and assisted, must themselves be accommodating, and ready to aid those who require it. In all these things we see the wisdom of the Saviour's golden rule—"All things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them." Be kind, accommodating, loving, and peaceful, in the whole current of your disposition, and the cup of your life will be sweetened with peace and joy.

I exhort the young to adopt the noble motto of the coat-of-arms of New York—"EXCELSIOR!"

"The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
EXCELSIOR!"

Let it be the aim of every youth to lift aloft this glorious banner, and soar upward to a surpassing excellency. Let them seek to excel in all tilings high, and good. Let them never stoop to do an evil act, nor degrade themselves to commit a wrong. But in their principles, purposes, deeds, and words, let their great characteristics be Truth, Goodness, and Usefulness!

"Be just and fear not!
Let all the ends thou aim'st at, be thy country's,
Thy God's, and Truth's!"