RELIGIOUS INSTRUCTION OF THE YOUNG.

A SPEECH MADE AT THE ANNIVERSARY MEETING OF THE WARREN STREET CHAPEL ASSOCIATION, ON SUNDAY EVENING, APRIL 27, 1851.

THE Secretary of the Association (Rev. C. F. Barnard) will bear me witness, Ladies and Gentlemen, that when I accepted his kind invitation to be present and preside here this evening, there was an express understanding and stipulation between us, that I was not to be held responsible for any thing in the nature of an Address. I am sure, however, that you will all pardon me, if, before putting a formal and final question upon the adoption of this Report, I shall add a very few words to what has already been so impressively said by those who have preceded me. I need not assure you that I have listened with the deepest interest to the account which the Report has given of the progress and prospects of this Institution. No man, indeed, who has a heart within his bosom, a heart either for the welfare of man or for the glory of God, could have listened to that account without emotions deeper than he could readily find words to express. For myself, certainly, I know of few things better calculated to touch and thrill the inmost susceptibilities of a Christian soul, than the precise picture presented to us in this paper; the picture of so many young children, rescued from the snares of ignorance, idleness, and vice; snatch. ed, many of them, as brands from the burning; and trained up to habits of industry, to the love of truth, to the practice of virtue, to the knowledge and praise of God. And I may be permitted to add, that I know of no person who has secured for himself a prouder or more enviable distinction than one, who, having

drawn such a picture with fidelity, and having gracefully and modestly held it up to the public view, can say with truth, "these are the fruits of my labors; this is the account of my stewardship."

It is now, I think, not far from a quarter of a century, since your Secretary and myself, with at least one other of those whom I have seen at my side this evening, having finished our collegiate course, left the walls of the neighboring University together. We had many classmates and common friends who were soon scattered along the various paths of life, and in various parts of the country. Some of them, indeed, of the richest promise, were struck down at the very threshold of their career, and others of them have since fallen in more advanced stages of manhood; but the greater part have remained to this day, and not a few have reached high degrees of preferment in social, literary, or political life. I hazard nothing, however, in saying, that there is not one of them who could have been present here this evening, and listened to the account which my friend has given of the work to which he has so successfully devoted himself, without feeling the comparative worthlessness of his own pursuits, or without uniting with me in admitting, that while so many of us have been careful and cumbered about many things, our brother has chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from him.

Certainly, no one can deny or doubt for a moment, that the work in which this Association is engaged, is one of the great works of the day, and one which demands the active sympathy and coöperation of every patriot as well as of every Christian. I need not say that it is a work enjoined upon us by the highest sanctions of religious obligation. I need not remind you in this place, and in this presence, that there is nothing more exquisite in the example of our Saviour than his tenderness for young children; and that there is hardly any thing more memorable in his teachings than the woe which he denounced against those by whom one of these little ones should be offended. But we need not look to the word of God, or to the example of Christ, to find motives for sustaining such institutions as this. If we were to throw aside all considerations of religious obligation; if we

were to be governed only by the most selfish calculations of worldly policy, this Institution, and others of a kindred character, could never be permitted to fail or languish for want of friends or for want of funds. Does any one point me to economical considerations? Why, does not the whole experience of our age and of our country prove, that what we save in schools we must pay for in prisons? That what we economize in the prevention of vice and crime, we must pay for, and pay for a hundredfold, not merely in the expense of their detection and punishment, but in the thousand injuries and losses which they inflict upon society?

In whatever aspect we contemplate the community in which we live, whether we look to the wide range of our extended Country, or to the narrow limits of our own State or City, we shall find everywhere, that our interests are inseparably identified with the great cause of education and religion. If this Republic is to stand, if these free institutions of ours are to endure, if this venerated Commonwealth is to maintain any thing of its ancient character and consequence, if this beloved City of ours is to enjoy peace within its walls and prosperity within its palaces, it will not be owing, primarily and principally, to our armies or navies, to our courts or congresses, to our sheriffs or policemen, (though I would by no means speak lightly of the necessary machinery of government,) but it will be owing, first and above all, to the blessing of God upon our efforts to train up our children in the way they should go, so that when they are old they may not depart from it. There are others who may see greater dangers from political agitation or sectional collision, and I would not underrate the immediate troubles of the times; but the greatest danger which presents itself to my own mind, as I attempt to cast the horoscope of my country, is that arising from the gradual growth and increase among us of a population not prepared for liberty, not fitted for freedom, not capable of self-control, not educated and instructed in those principles of morality and virtue, of law and order, of the fear of God and of respect for government, upon which all republics must rest for their foundation, and which they absolutely require for their stability and success.

And, my friends, we must meet this danger at the threshold, or it will be too late. We must grapple with it now, and through the instrumentality of institutions like this, or it will grow too strong for us. Who shall say how much of the peace and prosperity of our Commonwealth, or even of our whole Country, may depend upon those little groups of idle, profane, and ragged boys which we see on the sidewalks or at the corners of our streets, it may be on some holiday festival, or it may be disturbing the quiet of some Sabbath evening?

We are too apt to forget that these boys are to be the men of the future, and perhaps the masters of the future. But let us remember, too, that we may be their masters now. Let us remember that we may exert influences upon them now, which shall control their conduct and their character long after we are gone down to our graves. If we will but call them in from their evil associations and vicious pursuits, if we will give them the means of useful and honorable employment, if we will teach them the rich rewards of a life of honesty and virtue and diligence, if we will open to them the word of life, and show them that godliness which has the promise of the life which is, as well as of that which is to come, we shall have made them good citizens as well as good Christians, and shall have performed one of the highest duties of patriotism as well as of piety.

I think it was related of an old philosopher, that, on going into a school-house, and seeing a band of ill-mannered and illbehaved boys, instead of finding fault with the boys themselves, he inflicted a severe chastisement upon the master. This was rather a rough proceeding for a philosopher, but it was a forcible illustration of a true principle. If the boys in our land are illmannered and ill-behaved, it is the fault of their parents and teachers. It was only this very afternoon that the services of the sanctuary which I attended, were disturbed by the crash of a window, broken undoubtedly by one of those truant and troublesome boys which the Secretary has mentioned in his Report. My first feeling at this incident was one of indignation at the act of the boy, and of a wish that he might be caught and punished; but my second sober thought was one of pity for the boy, and of regret, I had almost said indignation, that there

were not more of these Warren Street Chapels in our city, into which boys of this character might be brought, and where they might be trained up, under the magical influence of brother Barnard, or others like him, to be devout worshippers within the temple, instead of rude rioters without.

My friend who just addressed you, (Hon. James Savage,) has reminded us of the storm which has recently swept over our city. I believe I am correct in saying, that the experience of those who have lived longest among us can recall no equal, can “parallel no fellow," to that storm in violence. More than one of the proudest structures of human art have been prostrated in its path, and not a few of our fellow beings have perished on the sea and on the shore.*

I doubt not that as we felt the tempest raging around our dwellings, and as we perceived how powerless we were to avert its approach, to arrest its progress, or to disarm its fury, we realized, more vividly than almost ever before, the feebleness of man, the omnipotence of God; and we were ready to exclaim with the Psalmist, "except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain." But let us not forget that there are storms to be witnessed and to be encountered, in our progress through life, of a far more fearful character. There are passions in the breast of every human being, which if suffered to swell and rage unchecked, may produce disasters a thousandfold more ruinous. But, thank Heaven, against these moral storms we may provide. If we will take but seasonable means, we may reclaim those passions from their wild nature, and may put them under the guardianship of reason, of conscience, and of a daily sense of responsibility to God; and then we are secure. The blast of the tempest may dash down in a night the bestconstructed lights which human ingenuity can set up along our shores, and bury the poor mariners in the ruins; but if we will once kindle up the spark of conscience in the breast, it may defy the convulsions of the elements; if we will but once build up the great beacon of the Bible throughout our land, the rain will descend, the floods will come, the winds will blow and beat

*The storm of April 15-17, 1851, will long be memorable for the overthrow of the Light House on Minot's Ledge, in Boston Harbor, and for other disasters.