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."
"But you want supernatural assistance to invest your belief with power to impress them on your heart. You may believe that you are a sinner, and yet you may not see the malignancy of sin, nor yet feel that deep, poignant sorrow which the Scriptures call repentance. You may believe that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, and yet may not perceive how his death accomplishes this great design."
"But I fear, my dear Sophia, you are now soaring into the region of mysticism, and are in danger of paying more attention to the visions of your fancy than to the convictions of your understanding."
"No; a mystical theology is not only inexplicable, but it cannot be defended by sober and rational argument. Am I offering an insult to my reason when I beseech the Father of light to illumine my understanding, and thus enable me to perceive, not only the meaning, but the beauty and excellence of the truth which he has revealed? And considering the volatility of the mind, how much it is under the control and dominion of the passions, how rarely it can abstract itself from sensible objects and pursuits, and what uniform indifference it manifests to the great questions of personal piety, shall I be considered as acting irrationally, if I pray that I may be deeply and permanently affected by the truth which I believe? O, my father! I can attest from experience that this supernatural illumination of the mind is the great secret in personal religion. Without it we are in darkness, while encompassed by the light of revelation; may admit the inspiration of the Bible, while the veil of mystery hangs over its sacred pages; may condemn, as Puritanical or Methodistical, the very principles we theoretically acknowledge to be divine; and, amidst all our professions of reverence for the character of God, and love to the person of the Redeemer, may be destitute of that mental peace which arises from a scriptural belief of the truth."
The conversation now turned on the right which every person possesses to form his own opinion on religious truth.
"I have been an enemy to free inquiry," said Mr. Roscoe, "but on maturer reflection I must give up my opposition. Where this liberty is enjoyed there will be great diversity of opinion, but probably that will prove less injurious to the practical influence of religion than a perfect uniformity, which admits of no discussion. When you and I thought alike on religious questions, my mind was in a stagnant state; I very rarely thought much or deeply on the subject; but since you have imbibed your present views my feelings have been agitated; I have been obliged to re-examine the evidences of my belief also; and though I cannot agree with you on all points, yet I begin to see that my knowledge is defective."
"Persecution," Miss Roscoe remarked, "on account of religious opinions is a cruel crime, and though the apologist has often attempted to palliate it, and sometimes to justify it, yet it is nothing less than an outrage on the inalienable rights of man. Who can compel me to believe any system of opinions? The effort, if made, would be fruitless, because physical force cannot subdue the understanding; and if I do believe any system of opinions, who can compel me to disbelieve? Have I not the same right to exercise my judgment in the adoption of my belief as another person, and ought I to be disturbed, especially in this land of freedom, if I claim and exercise this right?"
"I think not, though our prejudices are so very much in favour of old established doctrines and customs, that we almost necessarily feel impelled to interfere and prevent a person, if possible, abandoning them. A parent, who is a member of the Establishment, does not like to see his child deserting it, and though a severe critic may attribute this to the force of prejudice, yet I am not surprised that it should assume a powerful influence over the feelings. The religious belief in which we have been educated, whose rites, and forms, and ceremonies are associated with our earliest recollections, at whose hallowed altars we have formed the most sacred of all human alliances, and in whose consecrated earth the remains of our ancestors are deposited, may be supposed to enkindle, even in the breast of age, the fire of a youthful attachment; and it must occasion deep regret to see it forsaken as the child of superstition or the parent of error."
"I assure you I have no inclination to leave the Establishment, though, I presume, you will admit that I have a right to do it if I should think proper."
"Your right is admitted, for I am convinced that we ought not to attempt to control the judgment of another; but I sincerely hope that you will never think proper to exercise your right."
"It is not likely that I shall. I am under no temptation to do so. I admire the liturgy of our church, I approve of her articles; and though there are imperfections, which a scrutinizing eye may discover, in her constitution and in some of her ceremonies, yet I believe that she is as pure as any church of modern times."
"I am happy that your evangelical views of truth have not destroyed your veneration and esteem for the Establishment, as it would be a source of great mortification to us if you were to become a Dissenter."
"I am not acquainted with any Dissenter, except Mr. Lewellin, whom I have occasionally met at Mr. Stevens's, but our attention has been so fully engaged by the great and important truths of revelation, that I have never heard the question of dissent discussed. As Christians of every denomination will meet together in heaven, and unite in one common anthem of praise, I think they ought to cherish the kindest affection for each other; and, instead of suffering the minor questions of difference, which give a distinctive shade to their religious character, to keep them in a state of reciprocal alienation, they ought to 'dwell together as brethren.'"
"But, my dear, I am no advocate for an indiscriminate association of religious people. 'Evil communications corrupt good manners.' Your attachment for the church may be weakened if you hold intercourse with those who dissent from it. There are, I have no doubt, some wise and good men among the Dissenters; but, as there is a larger number of that description among us, I think you will have no occasion to wander out of the pale of the church for society."
"It is not, I assure you, my intention to form a large circle of acquaintance; but I must confess that my mind is too deeply imbued with the catholic spirit of the gospel, to keep up the separation which divides those who are united together by ties more sacred and durable than those of nature or common friendship. The ardour of my feelings may impel me to become zealous in the cause of vital godliness, but I feel such an aversion to bigotry, that I do not think that I shall ever become a bigot. To me the questions of conformity and non-conformity, of church and dissent, are so insignificant and worthless, when put into comparison with the vital Christianity of the Bible, that I dismiss them from my mind. No, my dear father, I value, more than I value life, the truth which bears the stamp of Divine authority, and care but little for the opinions which are alternately admitted and rejected by human authority."
Mrs. Roscoe now entered the parlour; and, after taking her seat, she expressed the pleasure which she had felt on reading her daughter's letter; and said she hoped, though they differed on religious subjects, that in future they should live together in peace. She assured Miss Roscoe that the trifling opposition they had raised against her was not intended to wound her feelings; and, as they were now satisfied of the goodness of her motives, though they still felt a little regret at the eccentricity of her habits, they should leave her to pursue the course which her own good sense was competent to mark out. "We hope you will not object to accompany us when we visit our friends?"
"Certainly not, mamma, unless it be to a ball or card party. My religious principles have not alienated me from the pleasures of social life, though they have given me a distaste for fashionable amusements."
"Your secession from the fashionable circle," said Mrs. Roscoe, "has excited both astonishment and regret; and many of your best friends very much pity you."
"Their astonishment, mamma, does not surprise me; and though I accept of the expressions of their regret as a proof of their friendship, yet if they knew the cause and the reasons, they would be more disposed to offer me their congratulations. I have exchanged one source of gratification for another; and can attest, from experience, as I have tried both, that my present is more pure and more satisfactory than the former."
"Really, my dear, I often wonder what you can see in religion to be so captivated by it?"
"If, mamma, my mind had not been illuminated by a heavenly light, I should have seen no attractions in it. I once saw none; and if I had been told a few years since that I should live to renounce the gaieties of the world, and embrace the calumniated doctrines of evangelical piety, I should have trembled in prospect of the issue."
"And I assure you that I even now tremble for the issue. I fear that you will have your mind so bewildered with your religious notions, that its energy will be destroyed, and its peace entirely broken up."
"You need not, my dear mamma, give yourself any uneasiness on that subject. I am happy, more happy than at any former period of my life; and I have a prospect of future happiness before me. What more can I desire? I have gained the prize for which all are contending; and though it has been found within the sacred inclosures of religion, where I never expected to find it, yet ought I to cast it from me?"
"Well, my dear Sophia, if you are happy, I will not attempt to disturb your happiness."
"No," said Mr. Roscoe; "nor shall others. If it has pleased God to give you a portion of heavenly light, which he has withheld from us, we will not try to extinguish it. I deeply regret that I ever reproached you for your religion, or opposed you, for I am now convinced that the spirit which originates such measures must be evil. A remark which I met with in a discourse recently published by a clergyman, has made a deep impression on my mind. He says, when illustrating the following sentence—'Behold, the devil shall cast some of you into prison, that ye may be tried'—'It might often serve to stay the hand of persecution in religion, to consider who, in fact, sharpens the axe of the executioner, lights the fires of cruelty, or kindles the still fiercer flames of bigotry and theological hatred in the soul. It is his work who is 'the father of lies;' and therefore the natural enemy of the truth is the author of every plot for its destruction. Consider, therefore, if you discover even a spark of intolerance and harshness in your own heart, in what flame that spark is kindled, and make haste to extinguish it in the waters of love.' When opposing you, my dear Sophia, I thought I was merely opposing a modern fanaticism; but it is possible that I have, through ignorance, been opposing the progress of genuine piety. Ignorance may palliate, but cannot excuse crime; and I now resolve to let you enjoy unmolested the liberty of thinking and deciding for yourself on the great question of religion; and my daily prayer is, that God will be as merciful and gracious to us, as he has been to you."
Miss Roscoe replied, after she had recovered herself from that overflow of feeling which such noble sentiments had excited, "I thank you, I thank you, my dear father, for your kindness. You have given me many proofs of your attachment, but this last I receive as the strongest, because I value it as the most sacred. It is to the influence of others that I always attributed the opposition which I have met with; and, as I felt conscious that it would die away upon cool reflection, I endured it as a temporary evil, which would become productive of a permanent good. Had I met with no opposition, I should not have enjoyed so much my present liberty; and I trust that the veil of oblivion will now fall on the past, while a brighter vision rises on our fancy as we look forward to future days."
How many have pined away in the dungeon, or expired at the stake, under the relentless demon of persecution! and though the shield of the civil law now protects Britons from the tortures which the pious of former ages had to endure, yet the evil spirit still exists, and often displays, even in this land of freedom, its unsubdued enmity against the pure religion of Jesus Christ. It cannot imprison, but it can reproach; it cannot consume by an instantaneous death, but it can break down and destroy the vivacity of the mind by the lingering process of daily sarcasm and misrepresentation; yet, let not the sufferer compromise his principles, but remain faithful, even unto death. The angel of the Apocalypse, when assigning the reason why some of the brethren of Smyrna should be cast into prison, left on record the design which God has in view by permitting you to be afflicted. "He (i.e., the devil) shall cast some of you into prison that ye may be tried."—"Here, then," to quote the language of an elegant writer, "if you are the children of God, is the real end and object of your trials. They are permitted, not in anger, but in love; not to destroy, but to sanctify; to prove your sincerity, to try your patience, to ascertain your deficiencies, quicken your zeal, and stimulate you to confidence, and trust, and prayer, and love to Him who is 'able to save to the uttermost all that come to him.' It is thus that our heavenly Father frustrates the devices of the devil. The very fires lighted by the enemy of saints, serve only to cherish the graces of the true Christian, to melt down the irregularities of temper, to burn in and fix all those qualities which were, perhaps, hitherto sketched but in light and fading colours on the character. The spirit of persecution may rage against you, but its duration is fixed. 'Ye shall have tribulation ten days:' and as He, 'whose you are, and whom you serve,' has limited its duration, so he can abate its violence; and, when his gracious designs are accomplished, he will deliver you from its power. The religion of Jesus Christ has often been despised and rejected, even by those who are her ministers; and sometimes she has been bound in chains by the kings of the earth, as though she were the destroyer of human happiness; but she has, in this country, broken asunder the bands of her captivity, and is enjoying unrestricted liberty. 'May her sceptre sway the enlightened world around.' 'Then shall the earth yield her increase; and God, even our own God, shall bless us, God shall bless us; and all the ends of the earth shall fear him.'"