Page:The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 17.djvu/94

86 to get out of the way of ministers, and church-members, and all religious people, when dancing is to be done, that leads to dissipation. It is loneliness, want of interest and amusement, any unjust and unnatural restriction, that leads to all manner of wild and boisterous and vicious amusements, which prey upon the soul. If to a young man, on his first coming to the city, there open only so many as two or three houses, where he can now and then find welcome admittance,—where are two or three excellent women who exercise a gentle jurisdiction over him, who will notice if his eye be heavy or his cheek pale, who will administer, upon occasion, a little sweet motherly chiding, mend a rent in his gloves, advise in the choice of a neck-tie, and call upon him occasionally for trifling service or attendance,—where he can find a few hot-headed, perhaps; but well-fathered and well-mothered boys, who have the same headstrong will, the same fierce likes and dislikes, the same temptations and weaknesses as himself, but who are saved from disaster by gentle, but firm authority, and constant, yet scarcely perceptible influence,—a few bright girls, who will sing and dance and talk with him, and pique and tease and tantalize him,—how infinitely are the chances multiplied against his ever turning aside into the debasing saloon! He naturally likes purity better than impurity. The breath of innocence is sweeter than the fumes of poisoned wine. The interests of a man at whose table he sits, whose children are his companions, whose wife is his friend and confidant, will be far nearer to him than those of one whom he rarely sees and little knows. Something of the atmosphere of home will cling to office-walls, and soften the sharp outlines and sweeten the unfragrant air of perpetual traffic and self-seeking. The society of pure and sprightly girls will be a constant inducement to keep himself sprightly and pure. Reading, studying, riding, singing, driving, boating, with well-bred and high-hearted young friends, will give plentiful outlet to his animal spirits, plentiful gratification to his social wants, plentiful food for his mental hunger; and while he is thus enjoying the pleasures which are but the lawful dues of his spring-time, he will be all the while becoming more and more worthy of love and respect, more and more fitted to bear, in his turn, the burdens of Church and State. And if, in spite of it all, his feet are still swift to do evil, it will be a satisfaction to those who have thus striven for his welfare to know that his blood is not on them nor on their children.

There are other things to be taken into account. The leisure of Saturday afternoon must, it would seem, conduce greatly to quiet Sundays. When young men are confined six long days behind the counter, it is but natural that on the seventh they should give themselves to merry-making. For, let it be remembered, sport is natural, yes, and as necessary, to youth as worship; and in order of human development, it comes first. It is very hard to say to a boy, "You have been writing, and weighing, and measuring all the week. Now the sun is shining, the birds are singing, the flowers blooming, the river sparkling, and boat and horse await your hand, but you must turn away from them all and go to church. You have been boxed up for six days, and now you must be boxed up again. There are no fresh airs, no summer sounds for you; but only noise and dust and pavements all the days of your life." It happens, at any rate, that there is no use in saying this; for young blood overleaps it all, and city suburbs resound on Sunday with the clatter of hoofs and the rattle of wheels; and no one need be surprised, who has any acquaintance with human nature one the one side, or any conception of the irksomeness of continued confinement on the other. It would, indeed, be a very strange, and, I think, a very sad thing, if young people were willing to let suns rise, and stars set, and all the beautiful changes of Nature go on, without an irresistible, instinctive prompting to fly from the grave monotone of the city, and live and breathe in