them. They are permitted to fill up the measure of
their wickedness. Perhaps they riot in ease, and become bloated with
luxury. But let this description of beings--men I am almost afraid to
call them--remember that punishment, though long deferred, cannot be
always evaded. A day of retribution must and will arrive. For though
they may not be visited by what a portion of the community call special
'judgments,' yet their punishment is not the less certain. The wretch
who can commit the crime to which I have referred, against a fellow
being, and sport with those promises, which, whether direct or
indirect, are of all things earthly among the most sacred, will not,
unless he repents, rest here. He will go on from step to step in
wickedness. He will harden himself against every sensibility to the
woes of others, till he becomes a fiend accursed, and whether on this
side of the grave, or the other, cannot but be completely miserable. A
single sin may not always break in upon habits of virtue so as to ruin
an individual at once; but the vices go in gangs, or companies. One
admitted and indulged, and the whole gang soon follow. And misery must
follow sin, at a distance more or less near, as inevitably as a stone
falls to the ground, or the needle points to the pole.
Some young men reason thus with themselves. If doubts about the future
have already risen--if my affections already begin to waver at
times--what is not to be expected after marriage? And is it not better
to separate, even without a mutual concurrence, than to make others,
perhaps many others, unhappy for life?
In reply, I would observe, in the first place, that though this is the
usual reason which is assigned in such cases, it is not generally the
true one. The fact is, the imagination is suffered to wander where it
ought not; and the affections are not guarded and restrained, and
confined to their proper object. And if there be a diminution of
attachment, it is not owing to any change in others, but in ourselves.
If our affection has become less ardent, let us look within, for the
cause. Shall others suffer for our own fault?
But, secondly, we may do much to control the affections, even after
they have begun to wander. We still seek the happiness of the object of
our choice, more, perhaps, than that of any other individual. Then let
us make it our constant study to promote it. It is a law of our
natures, as irrevocable as that of the attraction of gravitati
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