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 wh