True American. [volume] (Steubenville [Ohio]) 1855-1861, 1855-08-08
FOR YOUNG MEN.

tence falls How we pause in converse
tion, and calculate 'it's a pity p How
his mother hopes that he will not drink
when he grows older, aud his sisters per-
suadc themselves that it is only few wild
oats that he is sowing, And yet old men
shake their heads, and feel sad aud gloomy
when they speak of it; for who ever stop
ped and did not at some time give way to
temptation?
1t is dangerous to trife with pleasure
Each step that she leads us away from the
path Of rectitude, leaves US less desire to
return. Each time that she induces us
to deviate, we must 80 little further to
obtain the same enjoyment. Even with
increased experience We resolve to walk in
the path of duty; We follow it with more
difficulty, if We have once allowed ourselves
to wander.
Pleasure stands at gate ever open, aud
she invites US to enter her gardens. She
tells US that we need not fear, for we can
return when we choose. She calls TO tho
pilgrim, on the dusty highway Of life, and,
wayworn and weary, as he is, she invites
him to enter. She points him to men that
are again upon the road men who once
wilcd away sometime in her dominions,
but have now resumed their journey. He
does not know the self-reproach and the
weakness they felt on leaving her bowers,
nor the increased difficulty with which
they tread the path VI daily life. He
wishes, and then turns and then looks in.
He will enter for little while. But he
is soon bewildered in enjoyment. His
senses revel in the fragrance He is on
enchanted ground. He is sure that he
can return, and that he will return, after
he has been little further; yet with
every step he feels less desire to do so. Of
what profit is it to him now, that the cato
stands open' As he wanders along, the
air becomes more and more exhilerating
aud the fruits more highly favored. The
breezes become warmer the fragrance is
more pungent, aud the flowers more arc
matte. His senses are intoxicated, and
his desires become inhamed The flowers
that blossomed along his morning path
the little modest flowers that opened their
meek eyes, sparkling with dew, aud smiled
on him as he set out Oh his journey, are
forgotten. The duties that he owes to
himself, to his fellow-men, to his God, are
all forgotten; aud he goes restlessly for
ward to enjoy hotter breezes, more stilnu
latiug fruits, and more mascotic odors
What avails to him now that the gate re
mains ever opcnH
But already these pleasures have be-
gun to fail. Some strange influence ia
benumbing his senses. lie fuds apples
with ashes at the core Hot winds are
bliStering his flesh but he feels no wound
Excess of pleasure is becoming pain. He
, has reached the marshes where the garden
of Pleasure borders on the valley aud
a shadow of death, and he would fain take
refuge in oblivion. He sits down under
q the shade of the Aconitc, and binds his
: throbbing temples with the wreaths of its
0 dull foliage. The night of despair is fast
o closing in upon him. Darkness, like a
4 blanket, shuts out the light Of heaven.
e and the trembling madness fires his brain.
a Shiny serpents are in attendance upon
+ him They glide around noiselessly, and
!. lull him in drowsy folds.