THE FAMILY OF THE LAWSONS.
One evening I received an invitation to dinner from Mr. Lawson, a retired tradesman in easy circumstances, who within the last three years had settled in his native village. Mr. Lawson was a man of no education, but possessed of an active mind; his manners were unpolished yet agreeable; and though he had been busily engaged in the trading world for more than twenty years, he had quite acquired the habits of a country gentleman. His garden was his favourite amusement; there he toiled early and late, displaying great taste in its cultivation, and often availing himself of the gratification of sending a portion of its fruits to some of his old city friends.
He married early in life, and made what was thought a prudent choice; he had no fortune with his wife, but soon found he had a fortune in her; for what he gained by industry, she preserved by rigid economy. He used often to repeat with satisfaction one of her choice maxims—those tradesmen who begin life as gentlefolks, often end life as paupers. Mrs. Lawson's early habits of economy in process of time degenerated into extreme parsimony; and though she would often talk of charity, yet she usually excused herself from the practice of this virtue by quoting the common adage—we must be just before we are generous. Though a rigid economy was the order of the house, Mrs. Lawson was more anxious for the education of her children than her husband. He often used to say, "Where is the necessity of spending so much money in education, when we got on well enough without it?" To which she would aptly reply, "The times are changed, and if we wish our children to move with respectability in that rank of life to which their fortunes will elevate them, we must train them up for it."
Mrs. Lawson was considered very religious by some of her most intimate friends, but she was more attached to the doctrines of the gospel than to its precepts, and usually expressed a more ardent desire to enjoy the consolations of faith, than to grow in knowledge and in grace. She was more solicitous to guard the little territory of opinion which her judgment occupied, than to extend the empire of righteousness and peace; and though she would sometimes speak of the love of God to sinners, yet such qualified terms were invariably employed, that it bore, at least in her estimation, an exclusive reference to a few of her own order. On their settlement at Broadhurst they attended the ministry of the Rev. Mr. Ingleby, but his style of preaching did not exactly suit Mrs. Lawson; sometimes he preached well, but at other times he was too legal—he dwelt too much on the preceptive part of the Scriptures, and too little on the doctrinal. He enjoined obedience to the law of God, instead of leaving the principle of grace to produce it, without any reference to obligation. He did not go sufficiently deep into Christian experience, nor employ that singular phraseology of speech which she had been accustomed to admire. Mr. Lawson and his daughters were more delighted with this new style of preaching (as it was termed) than with the old; but rather than disturb the harmony of the family, they consented to go with Mrs. Lawson on the Sabbaths a distance of six miles, to hear one of her more favourite ministers. This circumstance at first wounded the feelings of the rector, and excited no small degree of astonishment among the pious, who had anticipated that this family would have been an acquisition to their little circle; but when the spirit of Mrs. Lawson was more fully displayed, and her sentiments more generally known, it gave entire satisfaction, as they were unwilling to have their numbers augmented at the expense of their mutual felicity.
The day on which I was to dine with Mr. Lawson at length arrived. After dinner our conversation turned on religious subjects, and Mrs. Lawson distinguished herself, not less by her loquacity than by the occasional bitterness of her spirit.
"I think, Sir," she said, "that we live in very awful times; but few know the truth, and very few preach it. I do not know six ministers in the kingdom whom I could hear with any pleasure."
"Indeed, Madam, and what is the cause?"
"I hope, Sir, you know."
"But, my dear," said Mr. Lawson, "how should this gentleman, who is a stranger among us, know the cause unless you tell him?"
"If, then," said Mrs. Lawson, "I must speak, though it is with great reluctance that I bring forward such a heavy charge, they do not preach the gospel. They are in general mere moral lecturers, and their sermons are mere essays on some one branch of relative duty; but those who are called 'evangelical,' I consider most censurable; because, though they profess to know the truth, yet they are afraid to preach it."
"I presume you except Mr. Inglebly from this sweeping charge?"
"He may be a good man, but his knowledge of the gospel is very superficial. I have occasionally heard him preach a sermon which has given me a little pleasure, but his light merely serves to make his darkness the more visible. He preaches what I call a legalized gospel; instead of preaching a free salvation, he is always exhorting his hearers to be doing something; and tells them that they must look into their own heart, or to their own life, for the evidences of a work of grace."
"And pray, Madam, where is a person to look for a genuine proof of his personal religion, unless he does look into his own mind? Are we not told that a tree is to be known by its fruit? And is not this figure employed by Jesus Christ to teach us that if our moral principles are good, we shall exhibit the visible signs of their goodness in our life and conversation?"
"I hear a great deal about moral goodness in the present day, but I very seldom see any; human nature is awfully depraved; some preach about its being made better by the grace of God, but I believe it never can be improved. The heart after conversion is as deceitful and as desperately wicked as before, and if we are saved it must be by free and sovereign grace."
"I admit, with you, Madam, that those who are saved 'are saved by grace through faith;' but does not that faith purify the heart and overcome the temptations of the world? Where the principle of grace is implanted, is it not represented as reigning through righteousness unto eternal life?"
"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.