The Elder's Eldest Son
Perhaps there never existed since the fall, a family in which there was less to corrupt youth, than in that of the faithful elder noticed in a former number of the Messenger.
In this family there were no servants, but the elder’s wife performed all the work of the house, except that, when sick or unwell, some woman of good character from among the neighbors assisted her; and the elder himself did the whole work of the farm, except in the more busy seasons, when a man was hired for a few days. In this house purity, peace, and order prevailed. As soon as the children were capable, their aid was used both in the house and out of doors. The oldest child was a son, a fine healthy boy, large and handsome. This boy was carefully instructed in the principles of religion both by his mother and father, and he appeared remarkably docile, and learned so well that his parents felt a strong desire to devote him to God in the work of the holy ministry, if it should please God to make him early a subject of his grace, for which blessing they ceased not to pray daily.
When the boy had arrived at the age of sixteen or seventeen years, it was thought advisable to send him to an academy at no great distance, to commence a course of liberal education under an approved teacher, a man of piety as well as learning. And it was hoped the young man’s morals would be safe, as he would board in the house of an aunt who lived near the academy.
The youth had scarcely ever lodged out of his father’s house in his life, and had never been exposed to any temptations from bad company, and was perhaps as innocent as any of Adam’s children in a natural state. He had, however, much natural susceptibility of impressions from without, and a sociable disposition.
At this time there were some young men in the academy who belonged to wealthy irreligious families, and from their parents and the company which frequented their houses, they had imbibed a spirit of hostility to religion, and had picked up some objections to the Bible, and learned to make a jest of sacred things. These young men, as soon as the elder’s son entered the school, determined to do what they could to seduce him from the path of morality and innocence. They began by throwing out hints and innuendoes against revealed religion, and expressing pity for such as were held under the restraints of religion, or were conscience-bound, as they expressed it.
These ideas were entirely new to the elder’s son, and he drank in the poison greedily; for he had a strong inclination to sinful indulgences, which was only restrained by his religious education. These sceptical opinions were exceedingly agreeable to his corrupt nature, but he wanted more conviction that these objections to Christianity had a solid foundation. He therefore sought for books which would have the effect of confirming him in his infidelity, and the works of Hume, Voltaire, and others, were obtained by means of the young men before mentioned. And being now in a great measure freed from the restraints which had been on him, he rushed forth into a course of dissipation and licentiousness, in emulation of his new comrades. Indeed, it was not long before he went beyond any of them in boldness in sinning. Those who become vicious in opposition to the restraints of a religious education, commonly run to greater lengths than others in transgression, because the strength of passion necessary to overleap this barrier is sufficient to drive them on far in the paths of iniquity.
Tor some time he was careful to conceal his irregularities from his parents, but ere long this was impracticable, and he began to appear boldly in the ranks of the greatest transgressors. He was a leader and corrupter of others, and seemed to have lost all sense of religion, and to be confirmed in his infidelity. It is impossible to describe the disappointment and anguish of his pious, parents. They could do nothing for him but weep and pray in secret. The young man had gone on in this way for several years, growing worse and worse, until his character was ruined, and all decent people shunned his company.
About this time a young man, a cousin of his, came in from the west, where he had lived for some time, and had recently experienced a great change. He had also been very wild, and having been somewhat suddenly converted, he was full of zeal, and spoke freely to his old acquaintances of the necessity of religion, and did not neglect the elder ’s son, to whom he addressed himself in a very earnest, but affectionate manner; and it was apparent that his example and solemn exhortation produced some impression. As he was now on his way to college, he asked the elder’s son to accompany him and bring back his horse. Indeed, the plan was secretly agreed upon between his cousin and his father to get him to go, for at that time a powerful revival was in progress in the college and vicinity; and the father being acquainted with the president of the college, wrote him a full account of his son’s unhappy state of mind, and entreated him to try to bring him off from his infidelity. This letter he did not put into the hand of his son, but of his cousin, with a request that he would not let his son know that he had written. The Rev. President on receiving this letter invited both the young men to his house; and after some general remarks, he commenced a conversation on the subject of the causes of the prevailing infidelity, and took up in order the arguments of deistical writers: he refuted them with a clearness and force which overset the system which the elder’s son had long been building up. He never hinted that he had any suspicion that the young man belonged to this unhappy class, and indeed directed his discourse mainly to his cousin. The device answered the purpose intended. The young man not only renounced his infidelity, but fell under deep conviction before he returned home. What a comfort to his pious parents! His mother had always entertained a confident hope of his conversion, and her prayers were about to be answered. It was some time before the young man could be persuaded to entertain any hope that his sins could be pardoned. He evidently felt that he was the chief of sinners. Never was a change more manifest in outward appearance. He now became deeply serious at all times, and under the impression of his exceeding wickedness, he seemed little disposed to go into company of any kind.
After much prayer and deliberation, he felt constrained to think it a duty to enter the holy ministry. But before he commenced the study of theology, he undertook to teach a classical school for a year. He had scarcely commenced his school when he was seized with a violent bilious fever. His case from the first was considered dangerous. His parents made haste to see him, though he lay at a considerable distance from their residence. While the issue hung in doubt, the father, a man of strong mind and sober principles, suffered one of those hallucinations to which pious persons are sometimes subject. Having been earnestly pleading with God for the life of his son, the text of Scripture, “this sickness is not unto death,” was impressed so forcibly on his mind that he was fully persuaded that this was an answer to his prayer, and rejoiced in the prospect of receiving his first-born from the verge of the grave. But alas, the young man in the midst of his days was cut down. Thus, again the hopes of these good people were sadly disappointed; but there was now comfort mingled with their sorrow, for they had hope in his
death. Senex,