An Essay, Delivered at the International
Convention of Young Men’s
Christian Associations,
Held In Albany,
June 1, 1866.
The religious thought of the age must
soon face this subject more fairly than it has yet
done; and seek for some more satisfactory adjustment
of it. At present its status is very indefinite.
The church is by no means at one concerning it.
The pulpit too often evades it. Private Christians
waver between the results of independent thought and
of early education, undecided whether to approve or
condemn; while extremists take advantage of this hesitation
to lay down the sternest dogmas, and to thunder denunciations
at every head that will not bow to their ipse dixit.
The questions at issue are not to be dismissed with
a sneer at fanaticism and over-scrupulousness on the
one hand, and with a protest against unwarrantable
liberality on the other. The whole subject must
be reexamined with reference to fundamental gospel
principles by both parties, in a spirit of Christian
moderation, and with the desire of ascertaining not
only what is safe, but what is right.
To prosecute thoroughly such an examination
within the limits assigned me, is, of course, impossible.
I can only deal with a few of the great principles
underlying the case, and urge their application to
a single practical question which has arisen in the
experience of our own, and it may be, of other Christian
associations.
The idea of development, which
is perhaps the fundamental one of Christianity, has
been to a very great extent swallowed up in the idea
of safety. It is not an uncommon error
to regard Christianity almost exclusively in a defensive
aspect; the Christian merely as a safe man,
protected by Divine safe-guards from temptation, rescued
by Divine mercy from the terrors of death and judgment.
Correspondingly with this mistake, the tendency has
grown to strengthen the defenses of character, rather
than to foster its growth. To keep it from temptation,
rather than to teach it to overcome temptation.
To teach it its danger from the world, rather than
its duty to the world. Consequently we have heard
more about keeping unspotted from the world, than
of going into all the world, and preaching
the gospel to every creature. More about coming
out and being separate, than of knowing the truth
which shall make free. More of separating wheat
from tares, than of leavening lumps.
The false instinct of self-preservation,
which sent the Romanist into cloisters and convents,
and tore him from the sweet sanctities of domestic
life, has perpetuated itself more than some of us think
in Protestant thought and church legislation.
And in nothing has this tendency revealed itself more
distinctly than in the matter of amusements. For
amusement, having the effect to make men feel kindly
toward the world, and, more readily than duty, falling
in with human inclination, has been regarded as unsafe,
and therefore as a thing to be kept at arm’s
length by the church, and admitted to her folds only
under the strictest surveillance, and in gyves and
handcuffs.
The developments of this spirit are
so familiar that I need not stop to enumerate them.
The important thing now is to discover the right stand-point
for discussion. And here let me say what, until
recently, I had supposed there was no need of saying:
that amusement is a necessity of man’s nature
as truly as food, or drink, or sleep. Physiology,
common sense, experience, philosophy, are all at one
on this point. Man needs something besides change
of employment. He needs something pursued with
a view solely to enjoyment. Those who
deny this are ignorant of the simplest fundamental
laws of mind and matter. Men who assert publicly
that they need no amusements, and “want to die
in the harness,” will have the opportunity of
dying in the harness some years earlier than would
be demanded in the ordinary course of nature.
Nature will not suffer even zealous Christian men
to violate this law with impunity. She forbids
man to labor continuously, and if he persists in disregarding
her prohibition, she will revenge herself by imbecility,
uselessness, or death.
This must be assumed in all discussions
of the subject; and it being a religious, no less
than a physical truth, it throws into new prominence
the question, how, as Christians, we are to discharge
this duty without being led away by the temptation
which adjoins it so closely.
Let it be borne in mind that we are
not now dealing with individual cases of conscience,
but with general laws. While then there is obviously
a distinction between amusements while
it is granted that some develop greater capabilities
of abuse than others, the attempt to adjust this question
on the basis of discriminating between amusements
must result in failure. It always has, and it
always will. This basis is secure only in a question
between an innocent amusement, and one involving a
palpable violation of the law of God. The advocate
of any particular amusement is, on this ground, shut
up to the necessity of proving that what he approves
and practices is absolutely pure, and incapable
of perversion. The moment it is admitted
that it can, by any possibility, be turned to base
uses, the lists are thrown open to all corners, and
the utterly insoluble question arises, just what
degree of capacity for perversion entitles an amusement
to approval or rejection? Insoluble, I say, because,
not to speak of any other difficulty, one is obliged
to confront the fact that no one amusement presents
a similar temptation to abuse to all alike. That
in which the slightest indulgence might tend to lead
one man to ruinous excess, excites no interest in
another. It might possibly be dangerous for one
man to play at backgammon, while to another it would
prove no amusement, but only a tedious method of killing
time. On this ground, in short, it is utterly
impossible to adjust this matter satisfactorily or
consistently. The only consistent or safe rule
in this view of the case, is rigorously to exclude
all, because all are partakers of the universal
taint of sin.
“The trail of the serpent
is over them all.”
It is innocent for boys to play marbles,
but sinful to play dominoes. Wherein, pray?
They can learn to gamble with one as well as with the
other. It is sinful to play billiards, but highly
graceful and innocent to play croquet. But why?
Really, when it comes to a comparison, the first is
infinitely the more beautiful and intellectual game.
The ethical distinctions are positively bewildering
between balls of ivory and balls of wood; between
mallets and cues; between green baize and green grass.
A Christian household must not sit down and play at
whist, but they are engaged in a Christian and laudable
manner if they spend an evening over Dr. Busby, or
Master Rodbury cards. Really, it is hard to draw
the moral line between cards bearing aces and spades,
and cards with the likenesses of Dr. Busby’s
son and servant, Doll the dairymaid, and the like.
When it comes to a question of profit, one is an amusement
involving a good deal of healthy, mental exertion,
while the other is about as silly and profitless a
way of spending an evening as can well be imagined.
Youth must not dance, but they may march to music
in company, and go through calisthenic exercises,
involving a good deal more motion than dancing.
But if people may march to music and be guiltless,
it is very hard to see how skipping to music converts
the exercise into sin. It is said that the associations
make the difference; but the advocate of this theory
is shut up to proving that the associations are inseparable
from the amusements. And here is the place to
remark that the best amusements are the ones most
likely to be abused the ones which experience
shows are most abused, and about which cluster
the most evil associations. The children of this
world are wiser in their generation than the children
of light. Men do not care to counterfeit a coin
of inferior value; and the world is very clear-sighted
to discern the best and richest sources of worldly
pleasure, and utterly unscrupulous in appropriating
them entirely to itself. The amusements which
are most abused, are commonly those which, from their
intrinsic value, call most loudly upon virtue to rescue
them from their abuses.
The above method of reasoning, in
short, will not stand the test of plain common sense.
It is trifling, ignoring all distinctions which rest
on principles, and substituting factitious ones; and
Christians who assume this ground, lay themselves
open without defense to the logic and ridicule of
any intelligent man of the world who may be disposed
to test the reasons for their scrupulousness.
They condemn themselves in those things which they
allow. The amusements they approve cannot, in
many cases, be compared with those which they deprecate,
either in elegance, profit, or the amount of intelligence
they require.
What point then shall we take for
the consideration of this subject? We are confined
to one the stand-point of the Bible.
As Christian associations we have but one question
to ask: “What saith the Word.”
In the New Testament we find little
said about the degrees of sin. The thought
which it throughout tries to impress is, that sin is
everywhere; and under any form, or in any degree,
is a horrible and fatal thing. The tares
are gathered in bundles and burned; no matter
if one grows a little shorter, and another a little
longer. The lustful glance is placed in the same
category with the licentious act. The angry thought
is of the same piece with the act of murder.
The gospel contemplates the sins of the race very
much as a man looks at an orange: the rind is
full of little protubérances, and a close scrutiny
will show that some of these rise higher than others.
But nobody pretends to notice these variations; they
all spring from one spherical surface, and their variation
is not such as to destroy the general effect of roundness.
So all these fearful developments of sin spring from
one plane, and God hath concluded the whole sinful
world in unbelief.
The gospel, therefore, wastes no time
in making distinctions between sins, but aims straight
at remedying the great fact of sin as it exists
everywhere. Nor does it leave us in doubt as to
its method. It assumes its own power to purify
anything, and therefore lays down as its great law
of operation, the law of contact.
This law it sets forth under a parable:
The kingdom of heaven is like leaven, which a woman
took and hid in three measures of meal till the whole
was leavened. The great truth here illustrated,
is the innate power of the gospel to pervade and assimilate
to its own nature the whole worldly order of things,
just as leaven thus pervades and assimilates the lifeless
lumps of dough. This then, is its simple lesson:
Put the gospel into contact with everything sinful the
heart of man, the life of man, the employments of
man, the amusements of man into society,
its customs, laws, institutions, and it will purge
them of evil, and bring them into harmony with the
Divine order.
But be sure and note, that the entire
success of this action depends upon the contact upon
the putting the leaven into the lump. Fail
in this, and the lump remains heavy. It matters
very little whether the salt have lost his savor or
not, if the meat remain in one dish and the salt in
the other.
How thoroughly and beautifully this
truth was carried out in the life and teachings of
Christ, will appear to us more clearly, if we shall
recognize the uniform policy of the gospel to work
for the destruction of evil, chiefly through the lodgment
and development of good. Both Christ and his
apostles are exhibited in the gospel story as engaged
chiefly in asserting and illustrating the truth, and
not in combating error. Christ comes into a world
lying in wickedness besotted by it, plagued
and tormented by it; full of abominations starting
boldly out without pretense of concealment, from every
phase of private, social and civil life. But he
does not approach these as a mechanic would an old
building, saying, “this beam is rotten and must
come down; this roof is decayed and must be stripped
off; this floor is unsafe and must be pulled up.”
He does not propose to his disciples to enter upon
a wholesale denunciation of profanity and licentiousness.
He points out and condemns many of these things it
is true; but the main lever of his teaching is the
assertion of the great gospel principles. For
these he seeks a place of lodgment everywhere.
The old tables of the law contained but one commandment
that was not prohibitory. Every line portrayed
a crime, with a law standing on guard beside it, and
warning men away with its “Thou shalt not!”
Christ asserts the authority of the law; but in the
new table it is seen beckoning toward the commandment,
“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart.” His instructions to his disciples
do not so much concern the things which they are to
avoid, as they tend to fix upon their minds right conceptions
of his character and mission. So, I repeat, Christ’s
work is less a crusade against evil, than an assertion
of good by precept and example as the surest means
in the end of removing evil. Look, too, at Paul
at Athens, surrounded by heathen temples, statues
and altars. He does not proceed to demonstrate
to the curious multitude that the philosophies of
Zeno or Epicurus are wrong; or that the worship of
Hermes or Athene is absurd. He throws out
at once, bold and stern as a mountain headland, the
assertion of the Divine unity, and follows it up with
the doctrines of salvation through Christ, the resurrection,
and the final judgment. In a few bold strokes
he delineates to the astonished skeptics some salient
points of natural and revealed religion, and then leaves
the truth to germinate and crowd out the evil in its
own way and time.
There is indeed a sublimity in this
invincible faith in the power of truth exhibited by
the Son of Man. In the calmness with which he
moves amid the moral ruin that encompasses him, without
that anxious haste, and longing for immediate results,
which characterize so many modern reformers. The
world would have expected a direct and tremendous onslaught
upon evil. It would have said that the dropping
of a seed of positive truth here and there, would
never result in anything. Christ knew better.
He knew the latent power of truth; its inherent capability
of growth; and he knew that wherever it should find
a lodgment, it would grow; and wherever it should
grow, it would shake down from its branches, like the
mighty tree of the tropics, the germs of a thousand
growths like itself. Now it is this very faith
in the power of gospel truth, as the most effective
destroyer of evil, prompting to put the good boldly
into the evil to leaven it, which is sorely needed
in the moral movements of the age. Bring the subject
of amusements to this test. Compare the action
of the church upon it, with the principles so evidently
regulating Christ’s dealing with evil, and see
whether it gains by the comparison. Is it not
true, rather, that the Christian world has, to a very
large extent, acted upon an entirely opposite principle?
It has spent much time in peering into amusements to
see what evil they contained, and has kept digging
away at this, instead of putting Divine grace into
them, in simple faith in God, and letting that
at once purge and regulate them. It has been so
absorbed in ferreting out and declaiming against the
evil, as to have forgotten measurably that a corresponding
duty lay upon it to develop the good. Overlooking,
or at least slighting the great philosophical truth,
that amusement is as necessary to man as bread, and
fixing its gaze upon the fact that it is capable of
perversion, it has most signally failed in the regulation
of popular amusements, and in teaching how to use,
without abusing them. It has withdrawn utterly
from many most innocent sources of pleasure; crying,
“come out from among them;” they are not
safe; Christians must have nothing to do with
them. And with its withdrawal, the Devil has
come in and taken full possession, and their last state
is worse than the first. When the church has
touched the subject of amusements, it has generally
done so, I think, in a censorious spirit. It has
selected certain amusements as sinful, and issued
decretals and resolutions against them; it has prescribed
penalties against church members who should engage
in them; leaving the question in its broader relations
untouched. It has fenced off this and that corner
of the field of recreation, and put up signs:
“all church members are warned against trespassing
on these grounds, under penalty of the law,”
instead of trying to teach Christians how to avail
themselves, with profit and safety, of any part of
the field. We are cut off from Hamlet, and Lear,
and Othello and Macbeth. We cannot avail ourselves
of the interpretation of these by the best histrionic
talent, because the theater has been suffered to fall
so completely into the Devil’s hands, that a
Christian cannot countenance what is good in it, without
at the same time countenancing much that is profane,
licentious and indecent. But if the intelligence
and culture of a community endeavor to apply the principle
I have been advocating, and, in the shape of private
theatricals, to furnish a refined, beautiful, and instructive
dramatic exhibition, the outcry is little less than
if they had leased Wallack’s or Niblo’s,
with a first class troupe; and those Christians who
witness it, are condemned as inconsistent and backsliders.
Just so with dancing. The idea of Christianity
having the remotest connection with this amusement
has been scouted as absurd. A procrustean law
has been enacted “Thou shalt not
dance.” And surely, one would think
from some exhibitions of this amusement, that Christian
leaven had been pretty thoroughly withdrawn
from it. One cannot much wonder at the disgust
excited by those importations from Paris brothels,
the round dances, which, with the present style of
female attire, really leave modest men at some loss
what to do with their eyes. Let us have as much
thundering at these as you will. Let us not mince
words. Let ridicule, and sarcasm, and denunciation
exhaust their armories, for these are abuses; positive
evils. But these abuses are not inseparable from
the amusement, which, in proper forms, is healthy,
graceful, innocent, and highly commendable. Just
here an incident occurs to me which so forcibly illustrates
this last remark that I must relate it as the involuntary
testimony of an enemy. An amiable and most excellent
clergyman of this state, happened to be present one
evening when some young ladies went through a quadrille.
He looked on with great apparent pleasure. The
next morning he was rallied by some of his townsmen
on having countenanced dancing by his presence; when
he roundly denied the charge, and asserted that no
dancing had taken place, but only, as he expressed
it, “a most beautiful exercise.”
Now, I ask, in the name of common sense, why not devote
a little Christian care to separating from its abuses,
and regulating in its conduct an exercise which improves
the bearing of our youth, tends to relieve their natural
awkwardness in society, and gives them innocent exhilaration?
But no! Thou shalt not dance. That is Alpha
and Omega. Dancing is liable to abuse, and therefore,
O most astoundingly consistent logic, leave it to become
a prey to all manner of abuses and abominations.
So, if a Christian household makes the attempt to
leaven this unfortunate lump, and claims that it can,
and does introduce graceful and modest dancing into
its family gatherings and social reunions, it is too
often denounced as an enemy of Christ and a corrupter
of the young. For one I am glad that certain Christian
families of high standing in the church of all denominations,
have at last asserted their right to act out their
own convictions in this matter, and have demonstrated
that even this much berated amusement may be elevated,
refined, and made a source of social pleasure and profit
by the infusion of Christian principle.
One more case in point. When
our Young Men’s Christian Association of Troy
furnished their new rooms, they did so on the principle
that prayer meetings and religious periodicals, though
important in their place, would not, of themselves,
suffice to attract young men from without. They
had tried the experiment in their forlorn rooms under
a machine shop, in an out-of-the-way place, furnished
as a miniature chapel, and a very seedy one at that,
and the result was that about six months ago the Association
was in a fair way to die, and make no sign. Young
men would not go to that dismal hole to spend an evening
when more attractive places abounded in the city;
and I would not if I had been in their place.
But the Association got a new lease of life.
It engaged large, airy, pleasant rooms, in a central
position. It kept its prayer meeting room neatly
and appropriately furnished, but it added a large
social parlor, its walls adorned with pictures, a
fine piano invitingly open, the best current periodicals,
secular and religious, upon the tables, and games of
checkers, chess, and dominoes distributed about the
room. The young men came in crowds. They
were thrown at once into contact with the Christian
youth of every church in the city; with the city pastors;
with committees, specially appointed by the churches
to take strangers in charge, with good music, religious
literature, and innocent amusement. For one I
thanked God with all my heart. I thought the
Association had done a great Christian deed.
I hailed it as a happy omen that the Christianity of
our city was beginning to see that the Devil had tools
which it might use to advantage, and was going
to take them away from him. But so did not think
others who turned their backs on the Association, and
denounced it as encouraging gambling.
This, in short, is the course pursued
to a very great extent with this whole subject of
amusements: assuming that the gospel has no business
with it except to denounce and warn; taking the leaven
away from the lump, instead of putting it in.
Creating a wide separation between two things, which,
of all others in the world need to be brought into
contact religion and pleasure.
And the practical results of this
policy are before us. It may be said that the
tendency now is altogether in the direction of excess;
that some Christians are becoming much too liberal,
and are fast obliterating all old landmarks.
All I have to say to this is, that the more true it
is, the better for my position. For, granting,
for argument’s sake, all that is asserted, this
fact shows that there is a reaction from an old and
false sentiment, which even if excessive, is a healthy
indication. And the one error goes to prove the
other; for excessive reactions are pretty sure to
grow out of excessive stringency in another direction.
At any rate, the great error of the church on this
subject is clearly exposed, namely: her failure
to regulate amusements. She ought to have been
the gospel’s instrument in purifying them from
abuse; but she has not been. She has been afraid
of them; has stood aloof from them; has been almost
totally absorbed in detecting their evil tendencies;
and, on account of these, forbidding Christians all
contact with them. And to-day she stands comparatively
powerless in this matter. Church assemblies meet
and pass strong and elaborate resolutions on this
or that amusement, condemning it, and those who engage
in it; and a few persons are deterred by these.
But every year the class is increasing that utterly
disregards these mandates. It has been said,
I know, that in proportion as the church or individuals
are engaged in religious efforts, the desire for amusement
declines, the implication being that a desire for
amusement characterizes only a low state of religion.
This deduction is entirely unwarranted, and the process
by which it is reached is fallacious.
It is true that in a season of deep
religious interest in a church, there will be less
disposition to amusements. But the same is true
of other than religious interests. Under any
absorbing, popular excitement, men do not turn to
amusement. A special religious interest will draw
men’s minds from business as well as
from pleasure; and the inference to the condemnation
of business is just as legitimate as to that of amusement.
Again, the statement is not borne
out in the ordinary religious life of individuals.
Many, very many of the best, most efficient, and most
steadily growing Christians in the church exhibit habitually
a keen relish for amusements, and for some which are
most sternly condemned, and participate in them most
heartily.
And once more: while at revival
seasons in individual churches, a temporary decrease
of amusements may be seen, the more important fact
is that the aggregate of Christian society has been
for many years past developing a steadily increasing
interest in the subject, and a corresponding liberality
of sentiment respecting it. Scores of Christian
men have billiard tables in their houses. Colleges,
from which in years past, students would have been
summarily expelled for rolling ten pins, have now
bowling alleys of their own. Even in the corridors
of staid old Williams the sound of the balls may be
heard; and the revival record of the college does
not indicate that even this stupendous innovation has
wrought to the banishment of the Spirit of God.
The assertors of this inverse ratio between piety
and amusement must, in short, dispose as best they
can, of the fact that along with the growth of Christian
intelligence, Christian benevolence, and Christian
activity, there has been developed in the church itself
a growing sympathy with many of the very forms of
amusement most condemned by the religious sentiment
of an earlier age.
And this too, not on the part of the
careless, and pleasure loving, and half-hearted members
of churches, but of men and women high in position
in the church; persons of liberal culture and unquestionable
piety. These persons, as well qualified to understand
the teachings of God’s word on this subject
as any of the clergy, are asserting their right to
act out their own conscientious convictions in their
amusements: claiming that they owe to the resolutions
of synods, and conventions and conferences, no more
than candid and respectful consideration, maintaining
the privilege of adopting or rejecting them at pleasure;
and accordingly they are throwing open their homes
to certain banned amusements, very much to the enhancement
of home attractions; very much to the detriment of
the saloons; very much to the increase of their children’s
attachment to home. Church legislation on this
subject has been a humiliating failure. It has
not compassed its intent. Nay, more, it has over-reached
itself. It has kept noble and intelligent youth
out of the church by insisting on their relinquishment
of certain amusements, in the proper and moderate use
of which they were unable to see evil. It has
tended by this insistence to foster that too common
sentiment which paints religion with sombre hues,
and couples it with the most forbidding associations.
It has tended to drive some to seek in the more liberal
atmosphere of Unitarianism the liberty of conscience
denied them by orthodoxy; and all this it might have
avoided by a clearer recognition of the gospel teaching
on this subject: by being less afraid for the
purity of the truth, and by throwing Christian presence,
and Christian participation, and Christian sentiment
boldly into the midst of the people’s amusements,
with a view less to exscind than to regulate.
I say, “less afraid for the
purity of the truth.” For Christians shrink
from an experiment so bold, especially after so large
a proportion of amusements has been usurped by the
Devil through their neglect to interfere. The
church is shy of a faith in the power of good which
comes eating and drinking; which sits at the table
of publicans and sinners. The conviction grows
on me that Christians have too little faith in the
gospel. They do not trust it enough in popular
reforms. They realize that evil is a tremendous
power, alike to be feared, whether it wear the armor
of Goliath, or sing its sweet seductions in the form
of a siren; and their instinct of preservation extends
beyond themselves to the truth itself. They regard
truth as a tender stripling, to be rolled up in mufflers,
and suffered to walk out only in charge of certain
staid nurses of theory; and not as a man of war in
panoply, and with strength enough to take care not
only of itself, but of them and their trusted theories
too. They are afraid the evil will overwhelm
or corrupt the truth; that the leaven, instead of
imparting virtue, will be spoiled by the deadness of
the lump. We need have no such fear for it.
All the developments of the age show that the world
needs it in closer contact with its evil than it has
ever been yet. It is sometimes urged that in
pursuing this course, Christians will bring upon themselves
from the world the charge of inconsistency, and moreover
will grieve weak Christian brethren. But surely
this principle may be pushed too far. With the
very fullest recognition of the obligation upon Christians
not to let their good be evil spoken of, and not to
wrong the weak conscience concessions made
for the sake of Christian charity are surely not required
to extend to all the vagaries of individual prejudice,
nor to the abandonment of principle. And there
is a principle involved in this question of amusements,
a principle of far greater importance than many are
willing to admit; and to which, if the Christian thought
of this age do not take more pains to define it and
act upon it, the eyes of the church will be most painfully
opened by and by. There is a question here involving
not only the enjoyments, but to a great extent the
moral welfare of our youth. The young will have
amusements, and the question is whether the devil
or the church shall furnish them. Whether home,
or the ball room, and drinking saloon, and gambling
house shall be the more attractive. Whether Christians
will resolutely take up good and noble amusements,
and give them to youth purged of their evil, or
whether they shall let them remain girt with all their
allurements, yet more widely separated from good,
and gathering yearly to themselves new elements and
associations of evil. Very probably the world,
and much of the church will assail the Christian who,
in this view of the subject oversteps the line of
received opinion, with a cry of inconsistency.
But remember that the world judges the church out
of its own mouth, independently of the real merits
of the case; and requires that it be consistent, not
with their views, but with its own as publicly
expressed. Yet sometimes it is better to be right
than even to be consistent; and if the church
has with all sincerity, yet with mistaken zeal, fostered
a false sentiment on any subject, do not Christians
who discern the error owe to society the benefit of
their clearer light? Have they a right to withhold
it for fear society should turn on them and call them
inconsistent? One would think from a sentiment
like this that the gospel process was to be reversed.
That not the Christian is to leaven the world, but
the world the Christian. Christian sentiment
is not to wait for popular sentiment. It claims
to be in advance of it. It is to Christians and
not to the world that the promise is given, “Ye
shall know the truth;” and Christian thought,
so far from waiting for the movement of these ever
shifting popular tides, is the luminary which God
has set high in the darkness of this world’s
sin to draw the tides in his appointed channels.
The practical value of truth like that of money, consists
in its circulation. It is worth nothing hoarded
up or used secretly. If it is ever to be worth
anything in correcting false impressions which society
may have formed of Christian teaching, it will be
by letting it out into society to speak for itself.
Nor am I begging the question at issue here. Even
an error is better outspoken than cherished in secret.
It comes into the field of discussion, and is turned
over and examined and exposed, and so truth is the
gainer after all. But I think it will be difficult
to prove an error in this case. The gospel truth
is “put the leaven into the lump;”
and why the gospel should not be put into our amusements,
even into those which are confessedly abused, I cannot
see. The more liable to abuse they are, the more
they need regulating; and the practical workings of
this principle when men have the courage to face prejudice
and carry it out, triumphantly vindicate it.
The man who furnishes his son a billiard table in
his own house, where he can practice that beautiful
game with his friends without the adjuncts of liquor
and rowdyism, does a good deed. He keeps the
youth at home, he keeps his associations under his
own eye; he gives him a good, healthy, intellectual
amusement purged of its abuses. The college board
that erects a bowling alley for the students; that
says to young men, “rolling ten pins is not
evil, but rolling ten pins in bar rooms, surrounded
by drunkards and swearers and indecent pictures is
evil, and we therefore give you the amusement without
these associations, and bid you enjoy it, and draw
health and strength from it,” that
college board I say, has promoted something more than
muscular Christianity. It has given the
young men a better opinion of religion; has withdrawn
them from the influence of temptations to which they
expose themselves only because they cannot find the
amusements freed from these vile associations.
It has drawn just so much patronage from the grog shop.
The parents in whose family circle dancing in proper
modes and with approved associates and within reasonable
hours is encouraged, are doing just so much to keep
their daughters from the unhealthy hours, the immodest
displays, and the indiscriminate associations of the
ball room. They deserve the thanks, not the reprobation
of the church. They are the friends, not the
enemies of religion. Let us not be scared by names.
Let us not deal, as the pulpit has dealt too much,
in vague generalities on this subject. Let us
see what those terrible words “billiards”
and “dancing,” and others of a similar
cast mean. Let us see if they are evil and evil
only. Let us not assume that our youth are attracted
to them only by their native depravity; but see if
there be not some goodness, some beauty, some intellectual
stimulus which renders them so fascinating. If
they need regulating, surely Christian wisdom can regulate
them if anything. If any can use them safely,
it is Christians who are taught by Divine grace to
use this world as not abusing it, and not those who
are swayed by impulse and love of pleasure only.
But the church does not regulate them, and she never
will or can regulate them on the old theory of separation.
Never, so long as she persists in wholesale denunciations
which she can sustain neither by scripture nor by logic,
and against which the common sense of the educated
and thoughtful rebels. A more liberal policy
in the past, a juster appreciation of the gospel teachings
on this subject, would not only have done much towards
separating amusements from their abuses, but would
have saved her from her present humiliating attitude
as the declared enemy of many forms of amusement, from
participation in which she has no power to restrain
her members.
This principle has been assailed on
the ground that the world will abuse it. That
they will read in words like these the church’s
endorsement and license for unlimited indulgence.
But if the world draws unwarranted inferences to suit
its own depraved wishes, surely that is no reason for
suppressing the truth, but rather calls for the full
and most careful statement of it. If the world
read the gospel wrongly, and wrest it to its own destruction,
those who set forth gospel principles are not responsible,
unless, as has too often been the case with reference
to this subject, the trumpet give an uncertain sound.
And the world is too ready to pervert this truth,
and does pervert it. Christians, if properly
instructed, are so far from being disqualified to use
amusements safely, the best qualified of all others
to develop their highest uses, and to enjoy without
abusing them. The world regards only the permission
to enjoy, and ignores the corresponding rule of restraint.
In this respect it is like the prince in the Arabian
tale, who mounted the enchanted horse, and set him
in motion without having informed himself as to the
means of guiding or stopping him.
For, let me be clearly understood,
I do not lay down this general principle without recognizing
the existence of practical limitations to its action,
though I assert that the fixing of these limitations
belongs chiefly if not entirely to the individual
Christian conscience. I have said that the tendency
of religious teaching with reference to this and kindred
subjects has been to make the idea of safety
more prominent than that of development.
Yet I do not overlook, as was implied in the remarks
of one who objected to my views, the defensive aspect
of the gospel. I admit both the fact and its
urgent necessity I could not do otherwise, knowing
that the heart is deceitful, and remembering the prayer
which Christ puts into every man’s mouth, “Lead
us not into temptation.” I am pleading
for the restraints as well as for the privileges of
the gospel in the matter of men’s amusements;
for more and not less care and watchfulness to be
brought to bear upon their future regulation.
But withal, I am not bound to abandon
the general gospel principle of purging amusements
by a closer contact of religion with them, because
in certain cases this regulation becomes a matter
of extreme difficulty and delicacy; because I cannot
precisely say how the gospel leaven is to be
conveyed into certain forms of amusement. Just
as consistently might I have refused to denounce slavery
as a crime against God and humanity because I could
not prescribe an effectual scheme for abolishing it.
And that such difficulties do arise in the applications
of this principle, I freely admit.
There, for example, is the theatre.
I believe this principle applies to that as well as
to any other amusement. For myself I wish that
I could occasionally see Shakespeare interpreted by
the best histrionic talent, with all adjuncts of scenery
and costume. To me it would be a rich pleasure
and a source of intellectual improvement. But
as the theatre is now conducted and sustained, I am
clearly of the opinion that no Christian ought to
frequent it. He cannot do so without, I think,
in the great majority of instances, committing himself
to very much that is indecent and coarse. And
just how this difficulty is to be surmounted, how
scholarly, Christian men who love such entertainments
and are qualified to profit by them, are to be furnished
with them freed from their abuses, I am not now prepared
to say. I think it might be done; but the theatre,
as it now is, is no place for a Christian.
This, however does not, as before
observed, in the least invalidate the general principle.
It is merely a question of means. Nor, as was
very roundly asserted, does the principle lead to
this conclusion that every Christian man must have
his box at theatre or opera. It by no means follows
that such a course would produce the desired effect.
It would be just about as pertinent to argue that
because a sewer in a certain street needed cleansing,
and because a proper array of men and buckets and brooms
would cleanse it, therefore every man and woman on
the streets, grave doctors of divinity, stately Mr.
Dombey, Flora McFlimsey and Edmund Sparkler, should
each shoulder broomstick or bucket, and plunge pell
mell into the reeking filth. This argument proceeds
upon the assumption that Christians can purge amusements
only by using them in the forms and with the appliances
attendant upon the world’s abuse of them.
This is assuming altogether too much. We must
get religion into these things, but there are various
ways of doing it. You cannot sow broadcast in
all soils.
I do not know whether I ought notice
one other line of reply to these remarks; but as it
seems to be a favorite one, and moreover was adopted
by some who I was surprised to see descending to it,
I will add a few words on this.
It may be described as an attempt
to invalidate a principle by showing that its application
to persons of widely different times and circumstances
involves an absurdity and then from the absurdity inferring
a sin. I do not pretend to give the exact words
used, but they were in this style: “Think
of Paul dancing; or Peter playing billiards! Do
you think we shall have checker-boards in heaven?”
And much more of the same kind.
Now this is not argument. It
is sheer nonsense; and most unworthy trifling over
a serious subject. The reasoning, if it be worthy
the name, is simply this; Certain things appear incongruous
with our ideas of the character and work of certain
men: therefore these things are sinful. It
is the easiest thing in the world to invent situations
of this kind. Such men as Paul and Peter are
associated in our minds with but one set of ideas; with
one great, glorious, solemn work; and their association
with any inferior matter affects us unpleasantly at
first. Even when we think of Paul making tents,
there is at first view something that clashes in our
mind with the speech on Mars Hill, and the healing
of the cripple at Lystra. But who thinks of disputing
from this the propriety of Paul’s own hands
ministering to his necessities? After all, if
there is no sin in rolling ten pins, I know not why
Peter should not have participated in that very excellent
and healthful recreation with as much propriety as
any of the numerous ministers of the present day who
“roll” with so much zest and assiduity
at our fashionable watering places. Think of Paul
dancing! Well, think of him! Think of Paul
wearing a blue swallow-tailed coat with brass buttons!
How he would have looked under the shadow of the Acropolis,
the winds of the AEgean gently swaying his cerulean
skirts, and the eager faces of Stoic and Epicurean
reflected in the bright buttons! Think of Peter
skating; cutting figures of eight, and performing “outer
edge backwards!” Think of John in a white cravat;
or of Bartholomew putting up seidlitz powders; or
of Timothy running with a fire-engine! How would
they have looked? Therefore hasten ye trim gentlemen,
to doff your guilty blue and brass, and don the toga.
Lay aside your skates, boys. Peter would have
looked very strangely skating, therefore it is sinful
to skate. Tear off your white chokers, ye Reverends,
and throw away your pestles ye apothecaries, and be
like the apostles. Shall we have checker-boards
in heaven? No, brother, I presume not. Neither
shall we marry, nor be given in marriage; but pray
don’t condemn us to celibacy on that ground while
we remain upon earth. “Would you play chess
on your death-bed?” Probably not, my friend.
Neither would I put on my boots, or do a great many
other very innocent things. Death stands out
in startling contrast to all our employments:
to business and study, as well as to recreation; and
you would find it vastly inconvenient to act upon
the principle that nothing must be done which you
would not do on your death-bed.
But enough of this. I come now
to the one practical application of these principles
out of which this whole discussion has grown.
When our Troy Christian Association
adopted the practice of introducing games into their
rooms, I gave it my hearty approval. My opinion
on this subject has been confirmed by what I have
seen and heard of the results of the experiment.
It was based on the principles I have been advocating
in this paper, and on the farther consideration, growing
out of these, that we must take some of the devil’s
weapons and sanctify them before we could successfully
fight him on his own ground. As remarked already,
prayer-meetings will not draw irreligious young men
into the sphere where we want them. Give them
first well lighted and warmed apartments, handsomely
furnished, where they can find music and books and
newspapers and games, and you stand some chance then
of drawing them into the prayer-meetings. And
indeed the direct religious influence of these associations,
while highly important, is nevertheless subordinate
to their work in bringing young men into contact with
the various churches of the community, where the religious
appliances are of course more perfect. The great
point is to get them into some position where the churches
can reach them. They will not come to church,
many of them, when they first enter the community.
The church has but limited facilities for finding them
out in their stores and boarding-houses and schools;
and it may find therefore a powerful auxiliary in
these associations, which bring the stranger youth
where it can bring its influences to bear on them.
But for this purpose the place of rendezvous must
be made attractive. We must have head-quarters
as pleasant as the devil’s. I hope all of
you have read the article in Guthrie’s Sunday
Magazine for January, 1866, entitled “The
house that beats the public house;” that
splendid iron structure in Colne, Lancashire, built
expressly for the irreligious working class.
There are fountains, and pictures, and games, cabinets
and books and newspapers. There are quiet reading
rooms, there are refreshment rooms, even smoking rooms.
There is a school room, there are musical entertainments
on stated nights, there are religious services on Sabbath
evenings. “On Christmas eve, 1863,”
says the writer, “the musicians at one of the
public houses piped for some time, but no dancers presented
themselves, till at length the players themselves adjourned
to the meeting at the Iron School. An attempt
to open the theatre that winter failed through the
same influence. The actors, after struggling for
a week in the face of empty benches, left the place
in despair.”
Here is a clear and successful recognition
of the truth that religion has not such strong alliance
with the unregenerate heart that she can afford to
dispense with all legitimate aids and recommendations.
The firemen have their upper parlor in the engine
house furnished richly and tastefully. The drinking
saloons are invested with all the attractions that
marble, and glass, and drapery and pictures can give
them. One man who appeared last week before the
excise commissioners, said he had expended ten thousand
dollars in fitting up his saloon. He knew it would
pay; and we cannot expect irreligious young men to
be drawn away from these by mere religious appliances.
We must employ other attractions. We must make
our houses beat the public houses. We must sanctify
new forces for this end. Pictures and cabinets,
carpets and draperies, music and games are not the
devil’s any more than they are ours. Young
men will have some retreat beside their comfortless
boarding-houses; some society besides their landlord’s
family, and it is a match between the devil and the
church which of us shall furnish these. Depend
upon it, if the church do not give them amusement,
regulated on a liberal Christian basis, the devil will
give them abundance that is unregulated. God forbid
that Christian squeamishness should suffer them to
turn aside to the house whose gates lead to hell,
and to habits which shall make mothers curse the day
they gave them birth.
I will give two incidents showing
the practical working of this new system in the Troy
Association. A member of my church, walking in
the street one evening, saw three young men just before
him, and overheard one say to the others, “Come,
let’s go and take a drink.” One of
the others replied, “No, I don’t care
to take a drink. Let’s go to the Christian
Association Rooms.” “Pshaw!”
said the third, “I don’t want to go there
to prayer meeting.” “No, no,”
was the response; “they’ve got a right
nice place there, and we can have a good time.”
He went on describing the rooms, and then added:
“and they’re for just such fellows as
we are.” He gained his point, and they
followed him to the rooms.
Three clubs of young men, or boys
rather, were broken up soon after the new rooms were
opened. I do not know their character fully, but
have been told that drinking was practiced at their
meetings. They now frequent the rooms of the
society, and pay over into its treasury their club
subscriptions. There are many more of such cases.
They speak with trumpet tongues as to the value of
this policy. They show that its practical influence
is against the groggery and the gambling saloon, and
if it work no other result, that of itself is vindication
enough.
And now I leave the subject.
I do not shrink from the application of this Bible
principle to our amusements. The other, the separative
policy, the keeping of leaven and lump apart, has
been tried, and has failed, utterly failed.
Will it not be well to try another
policy? I want for our youth a Christianity that
shall not relax one iota of its obligation to God or
to man. That shall not bate one jot from an entire
consecration of heart and life to God; that shall
walk closely with God, and feel as deeply as human
weakness can feel, the necessity of watchfulness and
of divine care to keep it from temptation. I
challenge any man to draw undue license from the principles
I have asserted. But I want more joy brought out
of the world by Christians. I want the gospel
carried boldly into some things from which it has
been kept aloof. I want Christian life to be in
the spirit more than in the letter. I do not
plead for less but for more conformity to the spirit
and teaching of Christ. Not for a lower but for
a higher Christian life; for a wider application of
gospel principles, a more implicit trust in the leavening
power of truth; a more practical belief in the assertion
that the weapons of our warfare are mighty through
God to the pulling down of strongholds. I want
Christian conscience clothed with principles and not
with dogmas. I want the word of God read and
interpreted fairly, and that allowed which it allows.
I protest against its being twisted and perverted
into rules for the unnecessary abridgment of Christian
liberty, where it lays down only general principles
for the conscience. I want less of the religion
that is
“Dark as a funeral scarf from stem to stern,”
and more of that which is full of
child-like trust in the love of God and the power
of truth, and of freedom purged by love from license.