Part 22

"Yes, Sir, and our evangelical moralists tell us that the principle of grace will gradually extend its influence over the whole mind, till every disposition is subdued, and we are fitted for the kingdom of heaven."

"And do we not read that he that hath the hope of future blessedness 'purifieth himself, even as God is pure?'"

"But how can we purify ourselves? Does not such an idea supersede the work of the Spirit?"

"By no means, Madam. If we are made alive from the dead by the infusion of the principle of spiritual life, we possess a certain degree of moral power; but this power does not render us self-sufficient; we become new but not independent creatures. We have duties to discharge, but we are not left to discharge them in our own strength. Mark the reasoning of the apostle: 'For if ye live after the flesh ye shall die; but if ye, _through the Spirit_, do mortify the deeds of the body, ye shall live.' Here we see human agency, in concurrence with the assistance of the Spirit, employed in mortifying the deeds of the body."

"It is but seldom," observed Mr. Lawson, "that I interfere with any religious discussion, but I must confess that I like those principles which have the best influence over our temper and our actions. My wife contends for faith, and some high points in divinity which I cannot reach; and though I readily agree with her, that faith in the atonement of Jesus Christ is essential to salvation, yet I like to see some good works following it."

"What do we more than others?" I replied, "is a question which is proposed to us by high authority. Many who reject Christianity carry the principles of morality to very high perfection, and are distinguished for their integrity and benevolence, but we are required to surpass them. The same mind which dwelt in Christ Jesus is to dwell in us. We are not only to admire his humility and condescension, his meekness and his devotional fervour, but to imitate it. We are not only to love him as a Saviour, and obey him as a sovereign, but to follow him as an example. If we contend for the faith, we are to 'contend earnestly,' but always with the 'meekness of wisdom.' We should never indulge ourselves in indiscriminate censure, nor vainly presume on our own infallibility, but endeavour to hold the unity of the faith without bursting the bond of peace."

The young ladies, who appeared altogether indifferent to the conversation, now withdrew. They were genteel in their manners, and seemingly amiable in their dispositions; but their style of dress gave me no high opinion of their moral taste. They were much too gay in their appearance for the daughters of religious parents, and I could not avoid receiving the impression that they spent a larger portion of their time in adjusting the plaiting of their hair, and the disposal of their ornaments, than in the cultivation of their minds. I love to see an elegant neatness in female attire, but when the passion for dress reigns in the heart, it destroys dignity of character, engenders vanity, consumes time, is always instituting comparisons which either mortify pride or inflame it; and it becomes such a perpetual drain on the resources of the pocket, that the claims of charity are rejected, because they cannot be relieved.

"My daughters," said Mrs. Lawson, "have received a very superior education, but have never seen much of fashionable life; they were never at a ball or a play; and though I _once_ permitted them to attend a concert, yet only once. I think their taste would lead them to such scenes of amusement; but, as they know my objections, they do not press for my consent."

"As religious parents," I observed, "_ought_ to support the sacredness of their character by the moral consistency of their conduct, _so ought their children_. They have the same evil dispositions and propensities as the children of the irreligious, but they are placed under more powerful obligations to repress and subdue them. It is true that parents cannot force their children to be religious, but they have a right to expect them to pay some attention to the injunctions of religion, if not for their own sake, yet from respect to the feelings and reputation of their parents. This respect for parental feeling and reputation is often the safeguard of juvenile worth; but when it is once destroyed, the barrier of restraint is broken down, and ruin becomes almost inevitable. I once said to a youth, who was pleading in favour of a fashionable amusement, 'Remember, your parents are pious; and if you persist, you will not only wound their feelings, but dishonour their reputation; and will you deliberately commit two such evils for a momentary gratification?' After a short pause, he replied, 'No, Sir; I will not purchase personal indulgence at such a price. I will never deliberately wound feelings which I ought to hold sacred, nor injure a reputation which I would allow no person to attack with impunity.'"

"That was a noble decision," said Mr. Lawson, "and the youth who formed it, I have no doubt, is an ornament to his father's house."

I now ventured to remark, that the present era afforded the Christian parent great facilities in the discharge of his religious duties towards his children, as the variety of engaging works which issue from the press are calculated not only to interest but to instruct, and the numerous societies which are formed for the education of the poor, and for evangelizing the heathen, have a tendency to keep up a high sense of the importance of religion in the youthful mind, while they call his powers into active operation."

"Yes, Sir," said Mrs. Lawson, "the press sends forth its monthly publications, but I permit very few to enter this house. I do not approve of teaching young people religion; for who can teach but the Holy Spirit? And He does not require any human performance to aid him in his work. Sunday-schools may do a little good, by keeping the children out of mischief; but I am no friend of missions to the heathen: when their time comes they will be called; and, till that 'set time' comes, it is no use for us to send them the gospel."

"Then, Madam," I asked, with some degree of surprise, "are your daughters connected with no religious institution?"

"No, Sir; and if they were to wish it, I would not give my consent. A person ought to possess religion before he engages in any religious exercises."

"I know a young lady," I observed, "who entered a Sunday-school, and she soon became an excellent teacher; but, when reflecting on the nature and design of her employment, her heart smote her, as she felt convinced that she had never experienced the power of religion on her own soul. It pleased God to bless these reflections to her conversion, and she is now an eminently devoted disciple of the Lord Jesus."

"Such a case _is possible_," said Mrs. Lawson, "because, 'with God all things are possible;' but I should think it an insult to Him to send my daughters to teach in a Sunday-school, or to collect for a missionary society, as an inducement for him to convert them."

"I wish," said Mr. Lawson, with great earnestness, "our daughters were converted; I should have a larger portion of happiness than I now have, and should look forward to the grave with much more composure. But, alas! all their attention is devoted to the follies of the world--dress, music, painting, and visiting, consume the greater part of their time. I see the children of other religious families decidedly pious, but I see no signs of piety in mine; I begin to think that we have neglected the means, and therefore God withholds his grace."

This remark excited a smile on the countenance of Mrs. Lawson who satirically observed, that her husband was fond of the legal dispensation. "What," she added, with great warmth of expression, "shall the Divine decree be subject to the control of our freewill? Have not the Lord's people, in every age, had wicked children? Yes; Abraham had an Ishmael, and David an Absalom, 'but the foundation of God standeth sure; the Lord knoweth them that are his.'"

"True, Madam; but are we not commanded to 'train up our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord!' I know that we cannot give them the grace of life, but we can give them instruction; we cannot force their obedience, but we may convince them of its reasonableness; we cannot keep them from evil, but we may succeed in placing many formidable obstructions in their path to ruin."

"Very true, Sir; but human expedients will never renew their souls. This is a work which Divine grace alone can do; and I think that we ought not to labour to accomplish what we know we cannot effect."

"But do we not know that the Spirit often breathes on the dry bones while the prophet is calling on them to live? We know that we cannot command a future harvest, but does that conviction prevent our sowing the seed?"

'But, Sir, it is no use to sow the seed unless God gives the increase."

"Very true, Madam, and have we any reason to expect the increase unless we do sow the seed? Are we not commanded, 'In the morning sow thy seed, and in the evening withhold not thine hand: for thou knowest not whether shall prosper, either this or that, or whether they both shall be alike good?'"

"I know, Sir, that your opinions and mine are very different on most religious subjects; and I think, if we continue the debate, we shall not come to an agreement. I daily pray for the conversion of my children, and take them with me to hear the pure gospel of Jesus Christ; and I leave them in the hands of God, to do with them as seemeth good in his sight. I cannot merit grace for them, neither can they merit it for themselves. If it be given, it will be given freely; and if it be withheld, it will be withheld righteously."

The cool indifference with which she uttered these sentiments paralyzed my whole frame, and I felt that I ought to make no reply. Indeed, what reply could I make that would have made any good impressions on a mind so devoid of the common feelings of humanity, as to give utterance to expressions of such a fearful import? I involuntarily sighed over victims which a perverted faith was preparing against the day of slaughter, unless a miracle of grace should be wrought to prevent it, and speedily retired from the room, in which I had suffered more mental anguish than I had felt during my whole visit to Fairmount.

There is a strange diversity of character in the professing world, but amidst all the varieties which it contains, no one presents so many repelling qualities as the high antinomian professor. He embraces a few leading truths of the Bible, while he rejects others not less essential and important. His spirit is bitter, and his censures indiscriminate; and while he pleads for the divinity of a system which inculcates humility and meekness as cardinal virtues, he usually displays much pride, and great want of charity. He arrogates to himself the collected wisdom of the age, stamps his own opinions with the seal of infallibility, and has the vanity to suppose, and the hardihood to assert, that he, and he only, understands the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven. The compassion which sighs over the moral miseries of the world, never glows in his breast; the pity that weeps in prospect of the desolation which is coming on the ungodly, never moistens his eye; the eloquence which would warn them of their danger, and point them to the refuge of safe retreat, never quivers on his lips; and if we could penetrate the deep recesses of his soul, and render ourselves familiar with every passion which claims a local habitation there, we should find ourselves associated with the master vices of the moral world; whose breath pollutes, and whose touch defiles; whose existence, in connection with the religion of the Saviour, is a mystery which a future day will unravel, but which the present has reason bitterly to deplore.

The antinomian heresy, which, happily, is not now so prevalent in this country as it was in the early part of the present century, is qualified for mischief by the very properties which might seem to render it merely an object of contempt--its vulgarity of conception, its paucity of ideas, and its determined hostility to taste, science, and letters. It includes, within a compass which every head can contain, and every tongue can utter, a system which cancels every moral tie, consigns the whole human race to the extremes of presumption or despair, erects religion on the ruins of morality, and imparts to the dregs of stupidity all the powers of the most active poison.

To find the children of such professors of religion devoted to the follies and vices of the world, ought to excite less surprise than regret; because it is wisely and judicially ordained, that the adoption of error and the neglect of duty shall meet with a just rebuke, and a severe chastisement, in the consequences which inseparably attend them. But ought not the irreligion of such children to become a beacon to warn parents of the danger of such perverted notions and such criminal remissness? Shall we presume to insult the Holy One by offering up our prayers for their conversion, if we withhold from them instruction, and cease to exercise a constant and active vigilance over the formation of their character and their habits?

Can such professors be said to _adorn_ the doctrine of God our Saviour in all things? Do they "add to their faith, virtue; and to virtue, knowledge; and to knowledge, temperance; and to temperance, patience; and to patience, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, charity?" Are they conformed to the image of the Son of God? If we compare their vanity with his humility--their bitterness of spirit with his gentleness--their bigotry with his liberality--their love of discord and contention with his love of peace--their insensibility to the moral disorders of the world with the tears he shed when anticipating the desolations which were coming on the inhabitants of Jerusalem--and the rancorous eagerness which they discover to restrict the blessings of redemption to a select few, with the unbounded comprehension of his invitations addressed to all, of every age and every clime--we must feel at a loss to conceive how they can present any fair claim to fellowship with him. If the Saviour were to reappear on earth, he would calumniate no minister who preaches salvation by grace--he would break up the peace of no church which holds the unity of the faith--he would show his regard for the law of God by obeying its precepts, and unveil the glory of the gospel by proclaiming it among all people. But the modern antinomian preaches only to the _elect_--sets aside the authority of the law by pleading the indemnities of grace--disturbs the harmony of the brethren by the contentions of discord--and pours insufferable contempt on those holy men who endeavour to win souls to Christ, because they execute every part of their commission. We may speak of them in the language which Jacob employed in reference to two of his sons, "O my soul, come not thou into their secret; unto their assembly, mine honour, be not thou united."

Sometimes these high antinomian sentiments are embraced by persons whose genuine piety operates as a check to their natural tendency; but they ought always to be avoided as a moral contagion, which, though kept under restraint for a season, will eventually break out, and produce essential injury in any Christian community. Who can look abroad without seeing occasion to deplore their pernicious effects? The religious instruction of children is discountenanced--the claims of the heathen are rejected--the love of the brethren no longer remains the test of discipleship--the great majority of the world are placed under the ban of reprobation--the attractive graces of the Spirit are repudiated as obnoxious to the faith--and the lovely, the merciful, the compassionate Redeemer is appealed to, to sanction these monstrosities of modern professors.

CALM DISCUSSION.

The letter which Miss Roscoe addressed to her parents proved a means of softening down their prejudices, and convincing them of the impropriety of attempting to force her to comply with customs which were offensive to her feelings. Though they could not feel the attractions in religion of which she spake, they resolved never more to annoy or reproach her. Thus the cloud which had been gathering for months, threatening the destruction of all her domestic peace, passed away, and she was now left to pursue her onward course undismayed by difficulties, because she had no longer to contend with the spirit of persecution.

I have sometimes known the ardour of devotional feeling cool as soon as the fire of persecution has been extinguished; and the heroic fortitude, which the storm has been unable to subdue, has gradually relaxed under the soft influence of prosperous ease. The mind, almost instinctively, accommodates itself to its circumstances; and though it rises in stern defiance against the lawless threats of injustice and oppression, it too often sinks into a state of comparative apathy when opposition ceases. It is at such a period that religious principles are in danger. Courtesy will often prompt to a sacrifice which compulsion could never obtain; a smile will sometimes conquer where a frown would fortify to resistance; and the faith which has stood immovable amidst the virulence of reproach and sarcasm, has sometimes wavered under the entreaties of parental kindness, and the tender solicitations of endeared friends.

But such was the ascendency which Divine truth had acquired over the mind of Miss Roscoe, and such the decision of her character, that no external change impaired the strength, or shook the firmness of her religious principles. She was not less spiritually minded under the sunbeams of prosperity than when adversity lowered; her affection for her parents did not diminish her superior regard to her Redeemer; and though she now felt still stronger obligations to please them, yet she regulated the whole of her conduct by the sacred maxim--"Them that honour me, I will honour, saith the Lord."

It was after her return from the cottage of a poor neighbour, where she had been administering the consolations of religion to a young woman about her own age, who was then in the last stage of consumption, that she sat herself down on a sofa, in perfect abstraction, unconscious of the presence of her father, who had just entered the parlour. For some time he felt unwilling to disturb her, but at length he broke in upon her musings, by asking if she felt indisposed?

"Oh, no, papa, I am not indisposed; I never enjoyed a finer state of health, or greater elevation of feeling than I do at this moment. I have been spending an hour with Jane Thomason, whose happy spirit is on the eve of departing from this vale of tears. It is beside the bed of the dying that I feel the degradation and the grandeur of my nature. There I see what sin has done to disfigure and destroy the body; and there I see what the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ does to adorn and dignify the soul."

"Yes, my dear, death is a debt which we must all pay; and I hope we shall be able to pay it with submission when nature demands it. But I wish you not to suffer yourself to be too much absorbed by this subject, as it will depress your spirits. I have long known Jane; she was always a virtuous girl, and I doubt not but she has made her peace with her Maker."

"Depress me, father!--No; such a theme of meditation possesses no depressing tendency. It is true, a momentary tremor will come over my spirit when I think of the parting scene and the unknown pang of dying, but it is only a momentary tremor--a passing tribute to the value of that life which I would spontaneously resign for a more perfect state of existence, if my heavenly Father required me to do it."

"But if you incessantly dwell on a future state of existence, I fear you will neither improve nor enjoy the present. The present has its duties, which we ought to discharge, and its pleasures, which we ought to enjoy; and, while we may derive some consolation from the prospect of a future life, I think we ought not to undervalue the present."

"To undervalue the present life, my father, would be an insult to Him who gave it; and to neglect its duties, would be to incur his righteous displeasure; but when we feel the renovating influence of Divine grace infusing the principle of spiritual life into the soul, it will be impossible for us to wish for its endless duration. I have just been reading a discourse, which says, 'The soul no sooner receives this new life, than it begins to be filled with hopes and fears, desires and dispositions, to which, in its fallen state, it is an entire stranger. It becomes concerned about its own safety, and conscious of its own dignity. The things of eternity arrest its attention, and call all its powers into exercise. It thinks, and feels, and acts, as though it regarded itself born for an immortal existence--as though it looked on heaven as its home, and never could be satisfied or happy till it should be engaged in its services and sharing in its joys.'"

"Well, my dear, I hope, when our earthly pilgrimage is ended, that we shall meet in heaven; but I must confess that I do not feel that glow of animation in the prospect of it which you feel. In looking over the letter I received from you the other day, I was surprised to find that we differ so little in our religious belief; and yet, when we converse together, a stranger would imagine that we are at the distance of the antipodes from each other. We admit the same truths in theory, but you appear to discover an importance and an excellence in them which I cannot feel or perceive. They are invested with a charm in your mind to which I am altogether insensible. Indeed, there is a mysteriousness connected with their operation on you which I cannot comprehend. Can you explain it?"

"Our Lord," said Miss Roscoe, "when conversing with his disciples, who had proposed to him this question, 'Why speakest thou unto them in parables?' answered, 'It is given unto you to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, but to them it is not given.' It is evident, from this passage, that the truth which is revealed, requires some supernatural illumination to enable us to understand it; and if you search the Scriptures attentively, you will perceive that this fact is asserted in the most positive and direct terms. 'The natural man' saith the apostle, 'receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them, _because they are spiritually discerned_.'"

"But are we to expect that this supernatural illumination, of which you speak, will convey to us any truth which is not already revealed? If so, the revelation is imperfect, and if not, it strikes me that a supernatural illumination is unnecessary."

"There will be no fresh truth communicated; but without this Divine illumination we shall not discern the importance and excellence of that which is revealed. Hence we read of having the eyes of our understanding enlightened. The psalmist prays thus: 'Open thou mine eyes, that I may behold wondrous things out of thy law!' And the historian who records the conversion of Lydia, when assigning the cause of it, says, 'Whose heart the Lord opened, that she attended unto the things which were spoken of Paul.'"

"But as we are endowed with an understanding which is capable of discriminating between truth and error, I cannot perceive the necessity of any supernatural assistance. I believe that we are sinners, and I believe that Jesus Christ died for sinners. I do not want any supernatural illumination to confirm my belief of these facts."