Part 16

"I grant that we shall have different religious opinions prevailing among us, but this circumstance will be more favourable to the religious improvement of the people than a dull uniformity. There is no nation in Europe where there are _more_ religious sects than in England, and there is no nation where there are _fewer_ than in Spain; but which of the two nations is the most intelligent, which the most powerful, and which the most free and the most religious? National uniformity is the stagnant water where the life of religious principle dies; but national freedom, which gives to every man the right to think and judge for himself, is the angel of mercy, preserving the truth in its purity amidst the conflicting elements of diverse opinions, causing it to have a free course and to be glorified."

"But would it not be better if we could all see alike on religious subjects? Then there would be no disputation, and Christianity would present to an unbeliever much stronger evidence of her divine origin."

Mr. Lewellin replied, "If we could all see the truth with the same clearness as the apostles saw it, and if we all felt its purifying influence on the heart as they felt it, we should then arrive at the highest pitch of human attainment; but this is a consummation rather to be desired than expected. It is evident that we have not attained this pitch of excellence; and, till we have, I think that common justice requires that we should concede to others the right which we claim for ourselves."

"Well, Sir, if I concede this, still I think that the different sects should keep distinct from each other. There should be no union, no combination; they should act apart and alone, move under their own standard, and sleep in their own tents."

"Mr. Roscoe is now," observed Mr. Stevens, "getting to his old objection against the Bible Society. He dislikes the union of the different denominations of Christians in that society. He thinks that the church has degraded herself by associating with the Dissenters in the circulation of the Scriptures."

"So it is," said Mr. Lewellin; "what one man considers an excellence another deems a defect. This very union is to me a most delightful subject of contemplation; it reminds me so much of the heavenly world, where all the redeemed mingle together in sweetest harmony, after the jarring discords of earth have ceased to annoy and disturb."

"But if we are distinct, let us keep distinct."

"But, Sir, we may differ on some points, and yet agree in others; and the same reason which would keep us distinct on points of difference, should bring us together on points of agreement. For example, you may be most attached to the monarchical branch of our constitution, Mr. Stevens to the aristocratical, and I to the republican. Here we should differ, but yet we may agree to defend it against a common foe. Now, shall our difference on these points prevent our uniting in its defence?"

"Certainly no; he who would not unite with his countrymen in the defence and support of the constitution, ought not to partake of the benefits which it confers."

"I thank you, Sir, for this concession; you have fairly awarded to me my point. Difference on some subjects ought not to prevent a union on others. We differ on some religious subjects, but we all profess to love the Bible, and to revere it as the standard of truth; why, then, should we object to co-operate with each other in circulating it through the world? The Bible Society I contemplate as the temple of peace. When we enter we lay aside the weapons of hostility, and mingle together as the professed disciples of Jesus Christ; and after thus fraternizing for a common object, we retire without having surrendered the smallest atom of the respective opinions and practices by which we are distinguished; and I am conscious that the intercourse will have a good moral influence over us, by diminishing the force of our mutual jealousies, and promoting a kind and affectionate spirit among us."

"I have often thought," said Mr. Stevens, "when I have had the pleasure of being present at a Bible society anniversary, of the beautiful lines which Milton represents Adam as addressing to Eve, after they had wearied themselves with mutual accusations:--

'But rise, let us no more contend, nor blame Each other, blamed enough elsewhere; but strive, In offices of love, how we may lighten Each other's burden in our share of woe.'"

"I think," said Miss Roscoe, "that the spirit of Christianity is a spirit of universal benevolence, and I see no reason why it should exclude any from its communion who profess to have embraced it. If the disciples of Jesus Christ will meet at last in heaven, and lose their sectarian designations in the more grand appellation of the redeemed, why should they object to associate together on earth? Surely it is no dereliction of Christian principle to take the example of the spirits of just men made perfect as a model for our own conduct, while we are in this imperfect state."

"I see," said Mr. Roscoe, "if the question of the Bible Society is to be carried by numbers, that I shall be out-voted; but still, though it may do some good, and display a kind and benevolent spirit, yet I fear it is productive of many evils. For example, a Dissenter gives away a Bible to a poor family, accompanied by his own reflections; will he not, at the time he make the donation, say something that may have a tendency to proselyte that family to his own peculiar tenets?"

"He may, Sir; but has not the Churchman the same liberty? Hence, on a supposition that they both aim at proselyting, their chance of success is reciprocal; and if they both succeed, the relative numbers of each denomination stand unaltered. But I do not think that such a spirit actuates the great body of the members of the Bible Society. They circulate the Scriptures without note or comment, and leave them under the blessing of Him, who employs the truth they reveal, as the means of enlightening the ignorant and sanctifying the impure. To them the question of conformity or dissent is a question of minor importance; and I can attest, as far as my knowledge extends, that their paramount anxiety is to promote the spiritual and eternal benefit of those to whom the donation is given, not to augment their relative numbers."

"But I think that every Churchman ought to support the church of which he is a member."

"And do you imagine," replied Mr. Stevens, "that the circulation of the Scriptures without note or comment will endanger the safety of the church? What is this but virtually acknowledging that our church is not established on the foundation of the apostles and prophets?"

"I do not intend to insinuate that it is not supported by the authority of the Scriptures, but still I think that if the Book of Common Prayer be circulated with the Bible, the attachment of the people for the church is more likely to be preserved."

"But," said Mr. Lewellin, "this will involve a concession which probably you will not like to place on record; it is conceding that the Bible alone will not support your church, but that it must stand indebted to the Book of Common Prayer; a concession from which, I am sure, my friend Mr. Stevens will dissent."

"Oh! Mr. Stevens," said Mr. Roscoe, with a smile of good-nature, "is more than half a Dissenter already; and I often tell him that he will soon become as zealous as the strictest of the sect. There is a substantial proof of my assertion" (pointing to the chapel, which was visible from the room in which we were sitting).

"Ah! friend Roscoe, I know you do not like my chapel, but I hope that I shall see you there the next time I have a charity sermon for Mrs. Stevens' Sunday-school. Your friend, Mr. Green, was there the other Sunday evening, and he has called on me since to say that he shall be happy to co-operate with me in promoting the moral welfare of the poor people in this neighbourhood; and who knows but your prejudices may ere long give way, and that we may all act in concert!"

"Yes, I heard of his having been at your chapel, and I must confess that I was astonished. Why, no man has talked more against your irregularities than he has; but now, such is the inconstancy of man, he is become an advocate of your opinions. But I am too old to change, and too much attached to consistency to deviate from the course I have followed for so many years. Even the eloquence of Mrs. Stevens, and that eloquence I know is powerful, would fail in producing any effect on my mind. I have many objections against educating the children of the poor, and more against worshipping in any other place than the Established Church, and I think that no force of argument would be sufficiently strong to overpower them."

"There are," said Mr. Lewellin, "the objections of prejudice, and there are the objections of reason; and though it is not always in our power to draw the line of distinction between them, yet we should attempt it. I lay it down as an axiom, which is founded in the very constitution of the human mind, that a child cannot discharge his duty till he knows what that duty is; he cannot know it till he is taught it; and the earlier the information is communicated, the sooner shall we secure his obedience, and the more uniform it is likely to become. Hence the necessity and utility of Sunday-schools."

I had hitherto sat silent, but now I related the conversation I had had with the little boy[7] whom I accidentally met in one of my morning rambles.

[7] See page 43.

"The shrewd intelligence of this boy may be a solitary instance," said Mr. Roscoe; "but I fear that the plan will be found productive of fatal consequences. Our poor population will grow genteel in their habits; proud and discontented, and unwilling to discharge the duties of their station; and by being taught to read, will become either religious disputants or avowed infidels."

"No, this is not a solitary instance of the utility of Sunday-schools. I can give many others." I then described the scene which I witnessed in the woodman's cottage, narrating, at the same time, the conversation which passed between myself and his dying child.[8] As I was telling this tale, a tear dropped from the eye of Miss Roscoe, and her countenance beamed with delight.

[8] See page 105.

"Ah! how I should like to have witnessed such a scene--a little girl languishing into life."

"Indeed, my Sophia," said Mr. Roscoe, with a tone somewhat harsh, "I should not like for you to have been present. This artificial excitement of the passions--this effervescence of feeling in the bosom of a child in the near approach of death, is no recommendation of the plan by which the effect is produced."

"Indeed, papa, I should like to have been present; it must have been a noble sight to witness a child rising to the contemplation of a state of future happiness; to have beheld the involuntary movements of her soul towards the source of all blessedness; and to have heard her speak in terms so delightful of the love of Christ, as the first moving cause of her love to him. I have seen many sights, but this surpasses all, possessing a radiance of glory which casts a dim shade on every other."

These remarks, which were made with a singular emphasis of tone, produced a powerful effect on the whole party; and though Mr. Roscoe was evidently displeased with the sentiments which they conveyed, yet he was delighted with the graceful vivacity of spirit with which they were expressed.

Mrs. Roscoe, who had taken no part in the conversation, now observed that she had no doubt but there were good and bad of all sorts, and that she thought every person ought to be left to choose his own religion; _only they should take care not to choose that religion which made them miserable_. Addressing herself to Mrs. Stevens, "I think a little religion a very good thing; and as our Maker has given us one day out of the seven to be religious in, I think that is quite enough; I should not like to be obliged to think and talk about religion all the week, and I often wonder how it is that you, who have so much of it at Fairmount, are not become weary of it altogether!"

"Why, the reason is, we love it; and, you know, people do not grow weary of that on which their affections are placed."

"But we are commanded 'not to be righteous over-much!'"

"We are so commanded; but we should be cautious lest we give a wrong meaning to that expression. Do you think it possible that we can love God too much; that we can love the Redeemer too much; that we can be too much attached to the great principles of justice, benevolence, or moral purity?"

"O no, certainly not; but then I think it possible for us to think and talk so much about religion as to render ourselves uncomfortable. Now I have heard some religious people speak with rapture about the happiness which they expect to enjoy in heaven, but as I know we cannot enter heaven till we leave earth, and that we must die first, I never make that the subject of conversation, or even reflection; for I always find that it casts a gloom over my mind, and makes me low-spirited."

"But ought we not, Madam, to prepare for death before it comes?"

"O yes, we ought to make our peace with God, certainly; and, as he is so merciful, he will be sure to give us time for it."

"What time did he give to Miss Walcote, who expired just as she had left the card-table?"

"To be sure that was a frightful event; but you know she was a most accomplished young lady, and had a good heart."

"Yes, Madam, she was amiable and accomplished; but how awful was it to pass from such scenes of human folly to the judgment-seat of Christ!--one moment shuffling the cards, the next listening to the final sentence, 'Come, ye blessed,' or 'Depart, ye cursed.'"

MISS ROSCOE.

There are periods in the history of life which give birth to events of such a peculiar order, that they not only contribute materially to our future happiness, but exert a powerful influence in the formation and in the complexion of our character. We are accidentally thrown into the company of a stranger; the stranger becomes a companion, the companion a friend; the friend is powerfully imbued with the spirit of Christ, capable of instructing and consoling us in seasons of perplexity and depression; and though we may not notice the original moving cause of the interview, yet the consequences resulting from it may be felt through life, and in another and better world.

It was the privilege of Miss Roscoe, when labouring under her mental depression, to find in Mrs. Stevens a friend eminently qualified not only to impart the sympathies of friendship, but to administer the consolations of religion. As she had passed through the same tumultuous and darkened scene, she knew how to guide the footsteps of another; and having "tasted that the Lord is gracious," and felt the moral efficacy of his death, she could speak on these sacred themes with a peculiar force of impression. Her skill in introducing religious subjects in conversation was great, and her news were clear and comprehensive. She minutely studied the peculiarities of the human character; observed the times, and seasons, and forms of its development; and while she rarely left an individual or a company without dropping some appropriate remark, she never obtruded her sentiments so as to make them unwelcome.

As Mrs. Stevens was walking one evening to her favourite retreat for meditation, she saw Miss Roscoe approaching, and after exchanging the customary salutations, the conversation turned on the subject of religion and a future state.

"My mind," said Mrs. Stevens, "has been dwelling with more than ordinary delight on the immortality of the soul. Immortality is the grand prerogative of man. He lives amidst the decay of his nature, survives his own dissolution, and lives for ever."

"How few," replied Miss Roscoe, "are impressed by this grand subject. Here and there I meet with an individual who is alive to the powers of the world to come; but the vast majority move onwards to the tomb, as though that receptacle of death was to terminate their existence. To me immortality is alternately a pleasing, and an awful theme of meditation. There are seasons when it is invested with a radiant brightness, which almost entrances my soul, and I am eager to join the general assembly of the redeemed; but at other seasons my mind recoils from the thought of dying, and I ask, in terror--

'Will it be morning then with me, Awak'd to hail his glorious light: Or must my doleful destiny Be endless night?'"

"That the subject of immortality, preceded by dying, should present the varying aspect of delight and of terror, is not surprising. Some are in bondage all their life through fear of death, and others are _occasionally_ in a state of great alarm; but this proceeds either from the incorrectness of their views of the economy of revealed truth, or the weakness of their faith. They look for some degree of moral perfection in themselves, to which they never attain, rather than to Jesus Christ, in whom they are accepted as complete; or they hesitate to place an implicit dependence on his power and willingness to save them, lest they should be guilty of an act of presumption. But as the gospel is a revelation of grace to sinners, and as we are invited in the most encouraging language to receive it, we ought not to hesitate, or deem it presumptuous to do so. I remember hearing our venerable minister once conclude a sermon with this striking remark: 'Are you willing to be saved?' After a short pause, he added, 'Then Jesus Christ is willing to save you. You and the Saviour are both of one mind, and who can separate you?'"

"But I fear," said Miss Roscoe, "that I have not yet felt that deep contrition for sin which is essential to genuine repentance, and which must precede the exercise of faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. I recently read a sermon, in which the author says, that 'the sorrow which is connected with true repentance is not only sincere, but deep and pungent. It not only enters into the heart, but it penetrates into its inmost recesses, and there lives and reigns. It not only causes the tear to flow, and the breast to heave with the bitter emotions of anguish, but it is compared to the most acute sorrow which can pierce the human bosom; to the sorrow which chills the heart of a parent as he mourns the loss of a son, of an only son, of a first-born!' I know I have felt abased and humbled when reviewing my past life; and silently adore the long-suffering of God in bearing with me; but I am yet a stranger to that acute and overwhelming agony of soul which, in the estimation of this writer, is essential to genuine repentance."

"If, my dear, you have felt sorrow for sin, you need not be distressed because you have not felt it in its most intense and agonizing degrees. True repentance does not always burst forth in bitter lamentations and weeping, leaving the victim of its infliction an exile from all the comforts of life and all the promises of mercy--doomed, in his own apprehension, to a more awful banishment at the day of final decision; but it is often the silent tear, and the noiseless sigh--the self-loathing of the soul over its defects--which become daily more and more apparent, accompanied by an humble and implicit dependence on the death and mediation of Jesus Christ for pardon and endless life. The author from whose beautiful sermon you have quoted a passage, remarks towards the latter end of it, that 'heartfelt sorrow for sin is not opposed to happiness. The tears of penitence are not tears of unmingled bitterness. There is a joy connected with them which is as satisfying and exalting as it is purifying and humbling. God himself has pronounced the sorrow of the poor in spirit, blessed; and he has not blessed it in vain. His people taste its sweetness. Their happiest hours are those which are spent in the exercise of penitence and faith; and while these graces are in lively exercise, they may look on the inhabitants of heaven without envy, even though they may long to participate of their still more elevated enjoyments.'"

"Such a repentance I am conscious I have felt. I would not return to my former course of life, even if it were compatible with a religious profession; for I have lived a life of vanity, minding earthly things; my intellectual studies were pursued to gratify pride, which coveted the honour which comes from man; the claims of God, on the homage and supreme affections of the heart, I have neglected; the Redeemer I have neither loved nor honoured; I have spurned from my presence those religious principles which require a separation from the world, and have uniformly acted as though the realities of an unseen world were a mere fanciful creation; but now the delusion has vanished away, and I see with an unveiled face the supreme importance of those truths and sources of enjoyment which in the days of my ignorance were concealed from me; and if I have any regret, it is not because I have discovered the illusion so soon, but because I did not discover it sooner."

"It is recorded of one of the Roman emperors," said Mrs. Stevens, that he wept when he saw the statue of Alexander the Great, because Alexander had conquered the world at a period of life when he had gained no victory. And if you, my dear, have been later than some others in making your spiritual discoveries, and in gaining your spiritual conquests, I hope you will now distinguish yourself by a decision more firm, and a zeal more ardent, and redeem, for the honour of the Saviour, the time you have withheld from his service; and by carrying the principles of your faith to the highest possible attainments, you will compel others to see the effects which the grace of God produces in the human character."

On passing within sight of a cottage standing on a slight elevation, Miss Roscoe said, "That, I believe, is Mrs. Labron's, and I greatly admire it, it is such a beautiful specimen of Gothic architecture, my favourite style of building, and its shrubbery and gardens are laid out and planted with so much taste."

"Yes, my dear, there is great external beauty, but within there is a sad spectacle of domestic sorrow and moral disfigurement. Her eldest daughter is rapidly fading away from life, under the withering influence of that disease which proves fatal to thousands; and I am informed that, to divert her attention from dying, she spends the greater part of her time either in reading novels or playing at cards; and though a minister of Jesus Christ, who has a slight intimacy with the family, expostulated with her on the impropriety of devoting herself to such amusements at such an eventful crisis, yet it made no impression on her; and her mother said, with an air of apathetic indifference, that as she was passionately fond of novels and cards, she thought it would be an act of cruelty to withhold them from her; adding that she had taken the sacrament, and made her peace with God! and that the physician particularly requested that no one be permitted to speak to her on religious subjects."

"This is appalling, truly awful; and yet how many modern Christians would give it the sanction of their decided approval. The physician requesting that no one may be permitted to speak to her on religious subjects! Oh, how cruel! What is this but interdicting the visit of mercy, and dooming a sinner to pass into the eternal world unprepared to die? I remember, at an early stage of my late affliction, the medical attendant urged upon my parents the necessity of keeping the Bible out of my reach, and they complied with his request; and that holy book, which reveals life and immortality, was kept out of my sight. Can you account for this most astonishing part of their conduct?"