His spirit leaps like new wine in the whirl of exciting pleasure, but in the hour of solitude and of golden opportunity, it is "flat, stale, and unprofitable." He marks off the year by its festivals, and distributes the day into hours of food, rest, and folly.In short, he holds no serious conception of life, and he is untouched by lofty sentiment.The great drama of existence, with its solemn shifts of scenery and its impending grandeur, is but a pantomime to him; and he a thoughtless epicurean, a grinning courtier, a scented fop, a dancing puppet, on the mighty stage.And surely, such a life, a life of superficiality and heartlessness, a life of silken niceties and conventional masquerade, a life of sparkling effervescence, has a moral.
It shows us how vain is human existence when empty of serious thought, of moral purpose, and of devout emotion.
Another is a skeptic.He has no genuine faith in immortality, in virtue, or in God.To him, life is a sensual opportunity closing up with annihilation and to be enjoyed as it may.It is a mere game, and he who plays the most skilful(sic)hand will win.Virtue is a smooth decency, which it is well to assume in order to cover and artful selfishness; and it is a noteworthy fact, too, that, in the long run, those who have trusted to virtue have made by it.At least, vice is inexpedient, and it will not do to make a public profession of it.Religion, too, he says, is well enough; it does for the weak and the ignorant; though shrewd men, like our skeptic know that it is all a sham, and, of course, scarce give it a serious thought.What is religion to a keen-minded, hard-headed, sagacious man of the world? What has it to do with business, and politics, and such practical matters? Pack it away for Sunday, and then put it on with clean clothes, out of respect for the world; but if it lifts any remonstrance in the caucus or the counting-room, why, like a shrewd man, laugh it out of countenance.What has our skeptic to do with the future world or with spiritual relations? Keep bugbears to frighten more timid and credulous persons.But only see how he uses the world, and plays his scheme, and foils his adversary and twists and bends his plastic morality, all because he is not troubled with scruples, and has no faith in God or duty!
And yet, to the serious eye, that scans his spiritual mood, and looks all around his shrewd, self-confident position, there is a great moral in the skeptic's life.It teaches us, more than ever, the value of faith, and the glory of religion.That flat negation only makes the rejected truth more positive.The specimen of what existence is without God in the world, causes us to yearn more earnestly for the shelter of His presence, and the blessedness of His control.
From the dark perspective of the skeptic's sensual view, the bleak annihilation that bounds all his hopes, we turn more gladly to the auroral promise of immortality, to the consolations and influences of a life beyond the grave.Yes, in that tale that is told, in that skeptic history, there is indeed a great moral.It shows how meaningless and how mean, how treacherous and false, is that man's life who hangs upon the balance of a cunning egotism, and moves only from the impulses of selfish desire-without religion, without virtue, repudiating the idea of morality, and practically living without God.
Or, on the other hand, suppose we call up the image of one who has well kept the trusts of family, and kindred, and friendship;--one who has made home a pleasant place; who has filled it with the sanctities of affection, and adorned it with a graceful and generous hospitality;--before whose cheerful temper the perplexities of business have been smoothed, and whose genial disposition has melted even the stern and selfish;--who, thus rendering life around her happier and better, attracting more closely the hearts of relatives, and making every acquaintance a friend, has, chief of all, beautifully discharged the sacred offices of wife and mother; encountering the day of adversity with a noble self-devotion, enriching the hour of prosperity with wise counsel and faithful love; unwearied in the time of sickness, patient and trustful beneath the dispensation of affliction; in short, by her many virtues and graces evidently the bright centre of a happy household.And now suppose that, with all these associations clinging to her, in the bloom of life, with opportunities for usefulness and enjoyment opening all around her, death interferes, and suddenly quenches that light! Is there not left a moral which abides a sweet and lasting consolation? That moral is-the power of a kind heart; the worth of domestic virtues; the living freshness of a memory in which these qualities are combined.
Thus, then, in its brevity and its comprehensiveness, with its plot and its moral, we see that each human life is like "a tale that is told." To you, my friends, I leave the personal application of these truths.Surely they suggest to each of us the most vital and solemn considerations.Surely they call us to diligence and repentance,--to introspection and prayer.What we are in ourselves,--what use we shall make of life;--is not this an all important subject? What lesson we shall furnish for others,--what influence for good or evil;--can we be indifferent to that? God give us grace and strength to ponder and to act upon these suggestions!
