CONCLUSION.
The Author has now brought his labours to a close; and having thus finally disposed of the various characters in his story, it may justly be presumed that nothing more remains to be done but simply to thank his readers for their courteous attention to his narrative, and bid them a hearty and respectful farewell. But, perhaps, before doing so, he may be permitted to cast a retrospective glance on the course through which he and his readers have passed together, and review some of the leading principles which he has endeavoured to illustrate and enforce in the course of his work.
In commencing his labours, the Author of the Sheepfold and the Common resolved to maintain a strict neutrality amid the various conflicting sects in the Christian Church, and avoid everything like an undue clannishness or esprit de corps. Assuming a position midway between the two principal religious parties which exist amongst us—Church and Dissent—he resolved to hold the balance of judgment and justice with an impartial hand—neither to lower the one, nor unduly exalt the other—allowing each to retain its own ecclesiastic polity, without presuming to encroach on the freedom which both so equitably claim. He has, he admits, exposed some of the imperfections of the Episcopal Establishment; but these very imperfections have been pointed out and animadverted on by many of its most intelligent and decided advocates and admirers, both of the clergy and laity. In so doing, however, it has been very far from his intention wantonly to impair the credit of the Church of England, or alienate her members from her communion; but to render his assistance in paving the way for a revision of her polity, which is now so loudly called for, and which, in general belief, will render her a greater and a more impressive instrument of moral and spiritual power amongst the great mass of the people. He has not attempted to set in hostile array against each other those who are united in the same faith, though differing in denominational opinions and practices. He has given no advice to a Churchman or to a Dissenter which stands in opposition to the pure and catholic spirit of the gospel; but he has endeavoured to induce all, from a profound regard to the authority of Jesus Christ, as well as their own moral dignity and happiness, "to 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" (2 Pet. i. 5-7).
His main object throughout the whole of his labours has been to present, in a popular form, the leading doctrines of the Christian faith; and to vindicate its integrity and purity against its ever-active opponents; and to prove, at the same time, that it is a remedial scheme to recover man from the ruin occasioned by the first transgression, rather than a mere educational or ceremonial one. He is aware that the heart of every man, while in an unenlightened and unrenewed state, presents an impassable barrier against its claims; but the regular marshalled forces of opposition are concentrated within the fortresses of scepticism and superstition. Scepticism assumes different phases, and takes various grounds of objection—alternately denying the truthfulness of the historic records of Christianity—impugning the credibility of its witnesses, and the rationality of its doctrines—inveighing against the so-called arrogance of its claims and requirements—and rejecting it as an ill-contrived theory, which answers no other purpose than to gratify the visionary, or affright the credulous. In the person of Mr. Gordon and others, the Author has allowed scepticism to express its hostility to Christianity; and the reader will form his own judgment of the way in which the arguments put forth by infidelity have been met and repelled. (See vol. i. pp. 96-104, 133-144, and 137; ii. 76-107.)
In endeavouring thus to explain and illustrate Evangelical doctrines, the Author has necessarily been led, by the nature of his subject, to expose and confute the various forms of heresy and theological error which appear to be more especially characteristic of the present age. On one of these—the Tractarian heresy—which prevails to such a lamentable extent among many members of the Church of England, he has deemed it expedient to dwell at considerable length, and has frequently introduced the views maintained by the High Church party, as a subject of disquisition. On this point it may, perhaps, be necessary to enter somewhat into detail, as to many persons the remarks on the doctrines professed by the Tractarian body, and the animadversions on the teaching of their clergymen, may appear somewhat severe and unwarranted.
It cannot, the Author conceives, be denied by any Christian, who bows to the absolute authority of the Bible, and its obvious interpretation, that the only way to obtain eternal life is by believing in Jesus Christ, the Son of God; and that the spiritual regeneration of the soul is a necessary pre-requisite and qualification for an admission into the kingdom of heaven. But Tractarianism, like Romanism, virtually ignores this scheme of mercy, by introducing a ceremonial apparatus, by which a priestly power effects for its deluded victims and devotees all that is necessary for final salvation, without the concurrence of any supernatural grace, but what is supposed to flow through the artificially prescribed channels. To expose the absurdity, as well as the anti-Christian character of this heresy, the Author has introduced, in the person of Mr. Roscoe, the character of a devout and spiritually enlightened man, and in his brother, the Rev. John Roscoe, that of an able and zealous advocate of the Tractarian theory. The reader will form his own opinion on the merits of the question at issue, and the force of the arguments maintained by the supporters of the respective systems (i. 317-477).
No one, the Author thinks, can read the New Testament with careful attention, without perceiving that the sacred writers treat of two distinct orders of human beings—the natural, and the spiritual man; the one enlightened and renovated, and living in mental fellowship with God; the other, living through life under the governing influence of his constitutional principles, and conventional predilections and habits—in whose estimation, whether he be a libertine or a religious devotee, the necessity of a mental regeneration is viewed as a fiction, or a mere theological dogma. Hence, it devolved on the Author, in a work of this description, to draw plainly the broad line of distinction, which he thinks the intelligent reader will discover he has done in his illustrative and confirmatory examples, as well as by the simple process of reasoning, deducible from the authoritative data of the inspired volume. (See vol. i. pp. 198, 342-346, 352-356; see also paper on Calm Discussion, i. 246, and A Struggle for Life, ii. 493.)
This broad line of distinction between the two orders of men, becomes more marked and decisive when they are dying, or when anticipating death. As an instance of this, the reader is presented with a contrast in the narrative of the deathbed of Mrs. Allen (i. 187, 188), as compared with that of Miss Susan Brownjohn (ii. 568-570), and in the respective accounts of the last moments of Mr. Ingleby, the Evangelical pastor; and Mr. Cole, the advocate of Tractarian principles (ii. 523-528, 540-544).
In separate papers, which form essential parts of his work, he has brought under the notice of his readers a variety of individual cases, which may prove as beacons, or examples of great practical utility. He would call the serious attention of the incautious, who may be exposed to beguiling temptations, to the case of Mr. Lewellin (i. 13), young Harvey (ii. 179), and Mr. Beaufoy (ii. 240).
To the case of the ANXIOUS INQUIRER, who is intensely concerned for his salvation, the Author has paid great attention, by explaining the cause of his mental disquietude, which is a penetrating conviction of personal guilt, and a clear perception of its consequent danger (i. 416 and 503).
The great question, What must we do to be saved? answered: see An Escape from a False Refuge (i. 530); also, The Farm-house Kitchen (ii. 292).
The spiritual perplexities to which all are subjected, in some degree, while working out their salvation, are specified and adjusted, and these are:—The defective nature of repentance (i. 176); the declension of spiritual enjoyments, and the want of an assurance of final salvation (ii. 159). See also Mrs. Loader's Letter (ii. 303).
In the person of Miss Roscoe we have a specimen of Christian decision, its sacrifices, its struggles, its conflicts, its triumphs, and its recompense of reward. Miss Holmes' religious history presents a very different complexion; in her we see the good work of grace beginning and advancing under favourable auspices; her conflicts are mental, and the final issue is glorious. In the case of Miss Emma Holmes is exhibited the painful consequences of duplicity and headstrong rashness, in entering into the married state.
Nothing, in the opinion of the Author, has a more powerful influence over the popular mind, to excite prejudice against Christianity, and to lead the profane and sceptical to call in question its Divine origin, than the multiplicity of sects which exist within the pale of the visible church; especially when they perceive the bitter and antagonistic spirit which they often cherish and express towards each other. The evil of this and its remedy, the Author has endeavoured to point out and illustrate (ii. 18-36.)
The Author has interwoven, in the progress of his work, many specimens of the wonder-working power of the grace of God, in the regeneration and conversion of persons of varying degree of moral excellencies and of moral worthlessness; and of the diversified mode of operation which is observed by the Divine Spirit when effecting it. He would call the attention of the intelligent reader to the following cases, which are so many living witnesses in confirmation of the Divine origin and blissful tendency of the truth, by which they are called out of a state of spiritual death to give their testimony:—Mr. Lewellin (i. 23), the Rev. O. Guion (i. 76), Miss Roscoe (i. 129), Mr. Tennent (i. 151), Mr. Roscoe (i. 278), Farmer Pickford (i. 47, 392, 571), Miss Denham (i. 414), Rev. John Roscoe (i. 428), Miss Osbourne, the Quakeress (i. 503), Mr. and Mrs. Lobeck (i. 528-544), Mrs. Hastings—see The Effect of a Word Spoken in Season (ii. 108), Mrs. Farrington—see The Farm-house Kitchen (ii. 284), Mr. Ryder—see A Struggle for Life (ii. 493), Mr. Gordon (ii. 511-515).
That the papers are very unequal in point of interest and execution, no one is more conscious of than the writer; but what he has written, he wrote as well as he could when it was written; and he must now leave it to be dealt with, just as the candid and impartial critic may decide. He knows that perfection has never been attained; and though he feels that partiality for his own productions with which authors are charged, and to which they are compelled to plead guilty, when they speak so as to be believed, yet he is not vain enough to suppose that he has attained it. The work has its faults, which he has not skill enough to conceal, nor temerity enough to vindicate and if it possess no excellence, it will soon descend to that state of oblivion from which no interest can redeem it.
"And now," to quote the language of an elegant author, "could he flatter himself that any one would take half the pleasure in reading his numbers which he has taken in writing them, he would not fear the loss of his labour. The employment detached him from the bustle and hurry of life, the din of politics, and the noise of folly; vanity and vexation flew away for a season, care and disquietude came not near his dwelling. He arose fresh as the morning to his task; the silence of the night invited him to peruse it; and he can truly say, that food and rest were not preferred before it. Happier hours than those which have been spent in composing them he never expects to see in this world: very pleasantly did they pass, and moved smoothly and swiftly along; for when thus engaged he counted no time. They are gone, but have left a relish and a fragrance upon the mind; and the remembrance of them is sweet."
It has been justly observed, that there are few things not purely evil, of which we can say, without some emotion of uneasiness, this is the last. Those who never could agree together, shed tears when mutual discontent has determined them to final separation. Of a place which has been frequently visited, though without pleasure, the last look is taken with heaviness of heart; and the Author, who has by a series of papers contributed to the improvement and gratification of society, may expect to be forgiven, if he should feel some novel sensations pervading his breast, when his last essay is before him.
Thus in the planning and execution of our schemes, life passes away, and we advance by unconscious steps towards its termination; and though by a singular species of artifice we contrive to keep our latter end in some distant perspective of futurity, yet in our more serious moments of reflection we feel that it is approaching. And can we anticipate it with cool indifference? Can we think of taking a last look at the varied beauties of nature, which have so often charmed the eye—of hearing the last words of friendship, which have so often delighted the ear—of uttering the last adieu which is to separate us from all communion with the inhabitants of earth—without feeling a degree of pensive sadness, which nothing can relieve but the hope of a blissful immortality? And even when this hope breaks in upon our solemn musings, and dispels the gloom which envelopes them, it is not always in our power to regain that tranquillity which the approach of our last hour tends to disturb. Our last hour! It may now be distant, but ere long it will be near. Suppose it were now come! Suppose only sixty more minutes of time were allotted to us on earth! Suppose we were now within a few, a very few steps of the seat of final judgment! Suppose in a few moments we should be called to give an account of the deeds done in the body, whether good or evil! Suppose, ere the village clock proclaims to the rustic inhabitants the departure of another hour, we should be doomed to receive the decisive sentence, which will
"Remove us to yon heav'nly place,
Or shut us up in hell,"
what would be the state of our mind? Should we be calm, like the woodman, who after the toils of the day, goes home to enjoy his rest? or should we be alarmed, as when the mariner sees the first symptoms of the rising storm? Should we be in ecstasy, as when the captive is released from the prison-house of wretchedness, and restored to his home? or should we turn pale, and tremble like the condemned criminal, when he hears the first sound of his own funeral knell? These are questions which we may now dismiss under an apprehension that they relate to a remote period; but that period is not so remote, as when the questions first met the eye of the reader; and ere long it will be the present time. Are we prepared to live through our last hour; and to give up our life, when the last pulse shall beat through our veins, without wishing to prolong it? Are we ready to step across the boundary which divides the visible from the invisible world, without faltering in our passage? If so, we may live in peace. We need fear no evil. We may range into futurity, without being appalled by any rising forms of terror. We may anticipate the last hour with tranquil joy, and calmly wait its approach. But if not, we ought to feel alarm. To be gay and sportive when treading on the verge of eternal woe, would be no less than a species of mental delirium. It would be an act of criminal folly; a treasuring up to ourselves wrath against the day of wrath; and impiously smiling as the storm of the Divine displeasure is accumulating its stores of vengeance.
Let me, then, before I have taken my final farewell of my reader, urge him once more to "work out his own salvation with fear and trembling." Let me once more point his attention to "the Lamb of God, that taketh away the sin of the world." Let me once more tell him, in the language which fell from the lips of the Redeemer, when he was on the earth:—"He that believeth on the Son hath everlasting life: and he that believeth not the Son shall not see life; but the wrath of God abideth on him."
I have now done; and commending my well-meant though imperfect labours to the blessing of Him who alone can render them effectual to the salvation of my readers, I now retire to the more private duties of my station, yet not without indulging the hope of meeting some in the celestial world, to whom I have been the means of imparting consolation, while passing through this valley of weeping.
THE END.
GLASGOW: W. G. BLACKIE AND CO., PRINTERS, VILLAFIELD.