BE STRONG by Richard Montague

Pacific Press Publishing Company · Oakland, California · Feb 27, 1893

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 19, No. 17.

BE STRONG.

By Richard Montague

THE Apostle John writes to young men, because, as he says, they are strong. But when is a young man strong? Is he strong when he is held in clutch and shaken as a very reed by some base appetite? Is he strong when lust lifts the master's lash over his drooping head, and, like a cringing slave, he kneels at his ruler's feet in subjection? Is he strong when an ill-bred sneer turns him from his purpose of right and brings to his cheek a blush of shame? Is he strong when the breath of a woman, holding before him the cup of intoxication, can break the teachings of his home, the practice of his childhood, the purpose of his early youth? Is he strong when too cowardly to stand by his convictions of loyalty to Christ and virtue?—No, no! A thousand times I say it, No! There are spherical glasses so constructed that press them in one way and you think them firm and lasting. But merely touch them in a dozen other ways and they fall at your feet a powdered mass of dust. Youth may have an apparent strength of body and mind, and for a while it will seem to hold together, but if it be not stayed with the inward power of a courageous conscience, the first touch of temptation may shiver it to atoms.

The pages of history are filled with the records of contrasted moral courage and cowardice. I think of no instance more instructive than that of Charles Sumner and Lord Bacon. During the exciting contest that for weeks agitated the Legislature and community of Massachusetts pending the election of a successor to Mr. Webster, ballot after ballot seemed to offer no hope of a decision or even progress. From time to time committees waited upon Mr. Sumner urging him verbally to modify his views upon the tariff or to relax a little the vigor of his statements about the slavery question. Charles Sumner was of the stuff that heroes are made of. He told these committees, one and all, that he should abate none of his convictions; if he were elected to the Senate of the United States, he would be elected utterly unpledged. He said he would not step across the room to change a single vote in his favor.

Contrast with this conduct, which a dishonest life never tarnished, the sad confession of England's illustrious Lord Chancellor. Accused of bribery, the scholar, philosopher, and statesman at first protested his innocence, but at last, either in the cowardice of conscious guilt, or in fear of the court, said to the House of Lords: "I do plainly and ingenuously confess that I am guilty of corruption and renounce my defense. I beseech your lordships, be merciful to a broken reed." The Lord Chancellor had trained his massive intellect; he had neglected his conscience. When the awful hour of test came, he fell, humiliated and broken-hearted. O young friends! there are wrecks of former men of honor and renown scattered all up and down our own country, simply because they lacked, in the hour of trial, the courage of a disciplined conscience! Be not ye followers of their unworthy examples. "Be thou strong, therefore, and show thyself a man."—Rev. Richard Montague, D.D.