SUNDAY COLUMN.

Stratford Evening Post, Volume XXXIV, Issue 53, 26 October 1912, Page 7

SUNDAY COLUMN.

“ONE OR TWO FOOLS 1 HAVE MET.” ('Ey Thain Davidson, D.D.) My album—l mean my photographic album of young men—has a few rare specimens of humanity that have come under my notice, studies of charactei that are worth looking at, if only in the way of warning; portraits of men, who have been compelled to confess, as King Saul did to David, “Behold I have played the fool!” 1. The first on the list is the idler. If the world contains a genuine fool, it is the young man who wastes His time. Some things God’gives often — others only once. Youth belongs to the latter category, and once wasted cannot be redeemed. No treasure so precious, no waste so ruinous.

Money lost may be recovered; health lost my be restored; friendships lost may be regained; even character lost may bo redeemed; but time lost—never. The years, months, days,— even the hours—of early life arc simply invaluable. There is not so much as one moment that you can afford to squander. Professor Dugald Stewart tells of a youth of his acquaintance who spent fifteen years in training himself to balance a breomstrick on his chin! Truth to tell, there are lads who seem born but to eat and sleep. They remind one of Tudham’s dog which was so lazy that it had to lean its head against the wall before it could bark. Were St. Paul’s rule carried out to the letter—“lf any man will not work neither shall he' eat”—there would be plenty of skeletons about; but unfortunately, these lazy hones generally contrive to get their mouths deep into the trough of other people. One of the most melancholy sights in the world is a young man with nothing to do. I speak not of one who is out of work—that is bad enough—but ofie who will not work, which is ten times worse. Idleness is always demoralising. You cannot be too careful as to the use you make of your leisure hours. Almost all the moral havoc that is wrought amongst young men is effected after the office or shop door is closed. Few men go wrong when they arc busy. The worst thing you can do of an evening is—to do nothing. You may almost predict a man’s future if you know how he spends his hours of leisure. All honour to those who take up some course of useful reading or literature, some practical form of philanthropy or some good hobby. But there are hundreds who never dream of such a thing, and when a few years are gone they will wake up to sec their foolishiness and to exclaim with the son of Kish “Behold I have played the fool!”

2. Another fool my album contains is the “Buffoon.” No wise man will say a word to the disparagement of mirthfulness. God has given us this faculty,; and life is grave and sad enough without extinguishing this electric sparkle which throws a little brightness into, many a gloomy— hour_ Pity on the miserable soul that condemns all flashes of wit and humour, that frowns on a joke and. fun and merriment, and every form of laughter as if it were unbecoming the Christian. Such a man is the /greatest enemy to religion. But it must be confessed there are silly fellows who seem to be incapable of a serious thought. They jest' at everything. They treat life as if it were just a great farce. They have not a particle of gravity or good sense about them. They are only what bells arc to horses, making plenty of jingle but not helping to draw. What with stale puns and coarse jests, threadbare stories and slang of the streets, their one object in life is to keep the world agiggling. The true sparkle is wanting; they are but painted gems, everything but the real diamond. It is a poor ambition and such men have not an atom of reverence in their nature. Levity is the very atmosphere they breathe. They have no conception of the dignity of man. They have scarcely any respect even for religion, and some quotations from Holy Scripture will set them in a roar. Such men might be admissible in a menagerie, but life is too serious to tolerate them. 111. The next character I light upon, who has ultimately to make Saul’s confession, is the “Mammonish” This gentleman has no time either for idleness or buffoonery; he is busy from morning till night and there is no nonsense about him. Life, he liolds, is given for one great purpose, and that is to make money; so every other thought is tossed to one side. If ho does not give himself to the theatre, ballroom, circus or gaming table, it is not because he has any scruples about these things, but because they

demand money. Tf he rises early and works late it is not because he grudges his time on sleep, but because he is greedy of gain. If ho rarely visits the house of God, it is not because he has anything against religion, but because his heart is so choked full of business, he cannot give his mind to higher themes. This . gluttony for wealth grows on one till it blinds the reason and dominates every faculty of the soul. Men forget that more than money is wanted, even for the enjoyment of money. Accumulated riches arc in themselves powerless to secure

real happiness. jy. There is yet another fool whose portrait my album contains; he is known by many an uedy name—libertine, prodigal, sensualist. He is the slave of his baser passions, and wallows in the mire of sin. He leers in the face of virtue and has only a sneer for every mention of purity. Ah! an awful Nemesis is at his heels. The hour of retribution hastens, and generally arrives even in this life. A day of Judgment verily antedates the grave, when the remorse-stricken reporbato, looking back on a wasted life and forwards to a lost eternity, lifts up his hands in despair, and exclaims:

“Bqbold, I have played the fool!” Well does Young say: — “Bo wise with speed: A fool at forty is a fool indeed.”