POWER, wealth, luxury, decadence, death! In these five words we have the epitome of the history of every nation that has ever risen, flourished, and fallen. The little State branches out, conquers its neighbors, grows rich on the spoils won by its arms, becomes weakened by high living, and in its weakness dies. It is the story of Chaldea and Babylonia, of Egypt and Persia, of Greece and Rome; and, if the old eternal rule of temperance is despised, it will be, as sure as fate, the story of every one of the proud nations that now dominate the world.
Times change, and men change with them, but laws never; and so certain as it is that two and two make four, history is sure to repeat itself if the conditions are repeated.
There is a species of patriotism which is the worst form of treason. It is none other than the vain and foolish pride of country which deceives us with the thought that, no matter what happens, the nation is safe. There was never a greater lie. The subjects of the Pharaohs thought that way, but Egypt died. The Greeks thought that way, but Greece passed away. The Romans thought that way, but Rome perished. Temperance was scouted, the people reveled and rioted in their wealth, and the dominion which seemed to them to be as enduring as the everlasting mountains passed away like a summer cloud.
Shall the modern nations expect any favoritism at the hands of fate? Is there to be for the nation of to-day a kindlier consideration at the hands of the Sovereign than that which was experienced by the nations which are no more? Believe it not. The laws—because they are laws—are not only eternal but unchangeable; and alike to the individual and the nation they say and mean what they say: "The wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God."
What does that old word mean? It means that the nation that forgets the simple life and rushes, passion-blinded, into dissipation, shall perish. The people that gives itself up to the gratification of its animal appetite, that lives to eat and to drink whose gods are the bill of fare and the fashion plate, is doomed—nor will the prayers of all the saints in the calendar, and out of the calendar, avail to save it. It is folly, folly gone mad, to pray that the penalty of a violated law may not overtake us. It will overtake us. As the cannon ball goes to its mark, so moves the consequence of a broken law.
This country of ours has the honor of being the richest land the sun shines on. Tho only a little more than a century old, it has already outstripped England in national wealth, and "holds the palm alone." But how are we using this almost incalculable wealth? To what deities are we dedicating it? Are we using it to make ourselves strong, or are we using it to make ourselves weak? To come to the point, as the years go by are the American people growing more luxurious?
It is upon the answer to that question that everything turns. Our fathers were a plain-living, frugal, temperate people. Their habits were regular, their lives were simple and clean. How is it with us? Are we living as our fathers lived? We are not sure that the question can be answered in the affirmative. We know that it can not be so answered. To tell the unwelcome truth in a word, the rock-ribbed simplicity of the old times is rapidly departing, and we are beginning to place the grand emphasis on life's glittering counterfeits rather than on life itself.
In one of his battles with the Swiss, Charles the Bold, midst the confusion that followed his defeat at the hands of the liberty-loving mountaineers, lost the crown jewels. In the pursuit a Swiss peasant, finding the rich prize, threw the gems away, and took the casket home with him as a present to his wife.
Is there not an alarmingly increasing multitude of the American people who are doing the same thing—throwing away the true life and holding on with a mad frenzy of delight to life's empty and degrading externals? We are not thinking now of the lazy, listless, pleasure-sapped worthlessness which is to be seen flaunting its splendid rags in most of the great cities of the land. It is of the great middle class, it is of the people proper, that we ask the question: Are they being corrupted by the lust of high living? Are they being infected by the feverish desire for the luxury that kills?
To this serious, solemn question it can only be said that luxury has commenced its work upon us. It is here, stanchly, solidly here, doing for us what it has done for every people that has been before us. Can we stop it?—and will we stop it? If so, all will be well; if not, then history will certainly repeat itself, and this nation of ours, with all its prestige, power, and glory, will die the death its foolishness is inviting.
It is the simple life and the simple life alone, that is able to save us. The simple life is the wise life. The simple life makes for health, for happiness, for great thoughts and great deeds. Luxury softens the muscles, weakens the will, corrupts the conscience and winds up by making us imbeciles and degenerates. The moment a man reaches the stage where he thinks more of his dinner than of his duty, more of his coat than his character, more of his so-called social standing than of his value as a man and a citizen, that moment he becomes an anarchist and is helping to overthrow the foundations of the State.
The real greatness of a country is made up of those within its borders who lead lives of temperance; whose motto is "plain living and high thinking;" whose grand business it is not to be amused and flattered and feasted, but to be doing something every day for the promotion of the larger and sounder civilization of the coming time. The men who founded this nation were thinking, not of menus, but of manhood; not of "pink teas," but of principles; not of riches, but of right; not of luxury, but of liberty—and we must think as they thought, or perish.
Will not every clergyman who may chance to read this editorial take it upon himself to preach oftener to his people upon the terrible necessity that they are under of living the simple life?
Will not the clergyman who reads this editorial plainly tell the parents in his congregation that in pampering their offspring, or in instilling into their minds the notions of idle ease and luxurious living, they are making themselves the enemies, not only of their children, but of their country, and of the whole human race?—San Francisco Examiner.
