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Synnintunnustuksen suhteen on Laestadius my?hemmin selitt?nyt mielipiteens?, jotka t?ss? mainitsemme, koska juuri synnintunnustus ja sit? seuraava synninp??st? on tullut varsin t?rke?ksi opinkappaleeksi laestadiolaisuudessa. Laestadius lausuu ett? se on kolmenlainen: 1:o Kovat omantunnon tuskat pakottamat katuvaisen syntisen tekem??n julkisen synnintunnustuksen useampain eli harvempain kristittyin l?sn?ollessa, ja t?m?n julkisen synnintunnustuksen tarkoituksena on rasitetun omantunnon huojentaminen. Jos senlainen synnintunnustus on lutherilaista oppia vastaan, silloin on paljon ensimm?isen kristillisen seurakunnan tavoissa lutherilaista oppia vastaan. 2:o Kun katuvainen syntinen l?himm?iselt??n pyyt?? anteeksi tekem?ns? rikoksen ja se tapahtuu julkisesti muitten kristittyin saapuvilla ollessa, niin sekin on julkinen synnintunnustus, mutta tuo tunnustus on niin v?h?n sotiva lutherilaista oppia vastaan, ett? Luther varmaankin olisi pit?nyt sit? oikean katumuksen merkkin?, jos senlaisessa toimituksessa olisi saapuvilla ollut. Semmoisia tunnustuksia tapahtuu usein meik?l?isten her?nneiden keskuudessa. 3:o Kun kristityt, nojaten siihen hengelliseen papinvirkaan, joka heill? on apostoli Pietarin opin mukaan: "Te olette hengellinen papisto", tutkivat toisen sielun tilaa, niin nousee ensin kysymys sen henkil?n katumuksesta ja synnintunnosta. Jos oikea katumus todellakin on olemassa, niin tunnustaa katuvainen ne synnit, jotka enimmin raskauttavat h?nen omaa tuntoansa; ja kysymyksi? voi tehd? sen mukaan kuin tunnetaan h?nen entist? el?m??ns?: esim. oletko huorannut? oletko varastanut? oletko ollut juovuksissa? Jos h?n on katuvainen, niin h?n tunnustaa rehellisesti, mink? synnin h?n on tehnyt ja t?m?n tekee h?n useampainkin kristittyin saapuvilla ollessa. Mutta jos h?n on oikeita lutherilaisia, niin h?n tavallisesti vastaa: ei se kuulu teihin, kuinka niilt? el?n, min? vastaan itse t?ist?ni. Eli vastaa h?n n?in: voitko sin? antaa syntini anteeksi, jos tunnustan ne.

Tuo merkillinen piispantutkinto Pajalan kirkossa p??ttyi siis onnellisesti Laestadiukselle. Muutamat her?nneet mielistyiv?t niin piispaan, ett? syleiliv?t ja rutistelivat h?nt?. Vaikka piispa ei ymm?rt?nyt heid?n kielt?ns?, niin h?n kuitenkin ymm?rsi heid?n hyv?t tarkoituksensa.

Ei Laestadius sittenk??n p??ssyt rauhaan. Kun valitukset eiv?t onnistuneet, alettiin parjauksilla h?nt? lannistaa. H?n oli muka saituri, joka pisti ne rahat, joita koulua varten oli koottu, omiin taskuihinsa; h?n istui piikansa kanssa ky?kin lattialla ja kaapi pataa; h?nell? oli portto joka kyl?ss?. Viimemainitun syyt?ksen sanoo Laestadius johtuneen siit?, ett? her?nneet vaimot, jotka h?nen toimestansa olivat tulleet autuuden tuntoon, tunsivat vastustamattoman halun saada kastella h?nen rintaansa kiitollisuuden kyynelill?, niin pian kun tapasivat h?net. "Ihminen on" -- sanoo h?n itse -- "niin heikko, ett? iskee kiinni l?himp??n n?kyv?iseen kiitollisuutensa esineeseen, ja vaikka min? omasta puolestani olen ollut h?mill?ni noista rakkauden ja kiitollisuuden osoituksista, koska olen salaisesti pel?nnyt, ett? se muuttuisi jonkinlaiseksi ep?jumalanpalvelukseksi, en ole kuitenkaan voinut sys?t? heit? luotani, koska siten loukkaisin heid?n pyhimpi? tunteitansa. Enk? min? ole ainoa, joka olen saanut kokea heid?n nyyhkytyksi?ns? ja syleilyj?ns?, viel?p? tarmokkaita taputuksiansakin, vaan kaikki, jotka uskollisesti ovat ty?t? tehneet Herran viinitarhassa".

Laestadiuksen viimmeisetk??n el?m?n vuodet eiv?t olleet entisi? valoisammat. Kaikesta n?ytti, ett? h?nen el?m?ns? aurinko oli laskeumaisillaan. Her?nneetkin alkoivat kyll?sty? h?nen lakisaarnoihinsa. Laestadius oli verraton parannussaarnaaja, mutta h?nelt? puuttui kyky? evankeliumin sanalla ravita uskon el?m??. H?nt?, jota ennen suuret kansan joukot olivat rient?neet kuulemaan, niinkuin juutalaiset muinoin Sakarian poikaa korvessa, ei tahdottu en?? kuulla. Kirkossa k?vi?t v?heniv?t niin suuressa m??r?ss?, ett? Laestadius vuotta ennen kuolemaansa tarkastuksessa teki siit? valituksen. T?h?n kuuliain v?henemiseen oli syyn? sekin, ett? Laestadius viime vuosina alkoi kerrata itse?ns?. Kun h?n silmiens? sairauden takia ei voinut uusia saarnoja kirjoittaa, eik? my?sk??n luullut voivansa vapaasti saarnata, luki h?n saarnatuolista vanhoja saarnojansa, jotka jo vuosikausia k?sikirjoituksina olivat kierrelleet ymp?ri pit?ji? ja tulleet t?ysin tunnetuiksi. Juhani Raattamaa ja Erkki Antti Juhonpieti pitiv?t her?nneiden kanssa kaikessa hiljaisuudessa kokouksen, jossa p??t?kseksi tuli, ett? Laestadiuksen saarnat olivat liian lainomaisia. H?nelle olisi ilmoitettava tuosta p??t?ksest? ja h?nt? kehoitettava saarnaamaan ehdotonta armoa, p??t?s saatettiinkin Laestadiuksen tietoon; mutta h?n piti sit? syyt?st?, ett? h?n olisi liian yksipuolisesti saarnannut lakia, perusteettomana ja mainitsi puolustuksekseen useita raamatun lauseita.

Surukseen sai Laestadius viel? huomata, ett? h?n vastustaessaan uutta katkismusta ja sen ulkoa lukemista oli, vaikkakin vasten tahtoansa, edist?nyt taitamattomuutta nuorisossa nousevassa. Tarkastuksessa vuotta ennen kuolemaansa esitt?? h?n luettelon t?ysikasvaneista, sis?luvun taitamattomista henkil?ist? ja sen mukaan oli Pajalan pieness? seurakunnassa sata henkil??, jotka eiv?t osanneet edes lukea sis?lt?. Laestadius oli luullut, ett? kun vanhemmat tulisivat her?tetyiksi, he my?skin pit?isiv?t hyv?? huolta lastensa opetuksesta. Niin ei kuitenkaan k?ynyt. Seuroissa k?ynnin takia j?i Jumalan sanan viljelys kotona sikseen. Kehoituksilla koettivat vanhemmat kyll? edist?? lastensa hengellist? el?m??; mutta kirjalle opettaminen niinkuin kirjan lukukin j?iv?t unhotuksiin. Kun sen lis?ksi Laestadius oli hylyksi tuominnut uudet kirkolliset oppikirjat, ei tietysti kukaan h?nen puoluelaisistansa siit?k??n syyst? tahtonut niit? lapsillensa opettaa. T?st? oli seurauksena, ei ainoastaan lukutaidon taantuminen, vaan lahkolaisuuden ja kirkosta erkautumisen siemen tuli siten kylvetyksi tuohon hengelliseen liikkeeseen, joka muutoin oli ollut suureksi siunaukseksi. Kun Laestadius huomasi erhetyksens?, koetti h?n sit? korjata. Katkismus p??si taas entiseen armoonsa. Ulko- ja sis?lukua alettiin vaatia kinkereill? ja rippikoulussa. Nuoret ja vanhat saivat tulla kuulusteltaviksi. Ken ei hyv?ll? totellut, h?nt? kohtaan k?ytettiin pakkoa.

V?h?n ehti h?n en?? vaikuttaa erhetystens? korjaamiseksi. H?nen p?iv?ty?ns? oli nyt p??ttym?isill??n. Suruttomuuden ja synnin unessa nukkuvan kansan oli h?n her?tt?nyt ja siveett?myyden loasta kohottanut. Se n?kyy olleen h?nen el?m?ns? teht?v?. T?m?n teht?v?ns? h?n toteutti tavalla, joka aina on her?tt?v? j?lkimaailman kunnioitusta ja ihmettely?.

Taukoamaton ty?, alituinen taistelu ja siit? seuraava sielunvoimain j?nnitys heikonsivat h?nen ennest??n heikonpuoleista ruumistansa. Intohimon tuli, joka paloi sielussa, j?yti h?nen ruumiinsa vointia. H?nenlaisensa luonteet eiv?t tavallisesti ole pitk?ik?isi?. Alussa vuotta 1861 vaivasi h?nt? ankara vatsatauti, joka tuotti suuria tuskia. Haaparannalle, likimp??n paikkaan, mist? l??k?rin hoitoa olisi saanut, oli Pajalasta 17 penikulmaa. Pelastuksen hetki n?ytti olevan l?hell? tuolle v?syneelle ty?miehelle. Sit? h?n odottikin. 4 p. Helmikuuta, noin pari viikkoa ennen kuolemaansa, kirjoittaa h?n muutamalle yst?v?lle: "T?ss? min? makaan tuskien vuoteella, odotellen ett? kuoleman enkeli pian kirvoittaisi minut, ja rakkaan veljeni, joka j?? viel? minun j?lkeeni eloon, ei pit?isi j?tt?? rukoilematta esirukouksia minun puolestani, sill? minun uskoni on usein heikko ja toivo usein kaukana; kuitenkin min? uskon, ett? suuri sovittaja ja orjantappuralla kruunattu kuningas ei ole hylk??v? minua". 21 p. Helmikuuta 1861 p??si h?nen henkens? el?m?n taisteluista ja rauhattomuuksista ijankaikkisuuden rauhaisaan rantaan. "Karhun taljalla maaten, kurjassa, tuulenhuokoisessa huoneessa heitti lappalaisten reformaattori, uudistaja, liiallisesta rasituksesta ja huonosta hoidosta henkens?, korutonna kuolemassa, niinkuin oli el?m?ss?kin ollut. Uskonnolliset mielipiteens? h?n s?ilytti kuolemaansa asti ja erosi el?m?st? sill? varmalla ijankaikkisuuden toivolla, joka h?nt? oli el?hytt?nyt l?pi el?m?n".

"Suuri suru valtasi h?nen yst?v?ns?, kun t?m? kuolonsanoma kulovalkean nopeudella kulki paikasta toiseen n?iss? pohjoisissa seuduissa, eik?p? liene monta hautaa, jota niin monet vilpitt?m?n kaipauksen kyyneleet ovat kastelleet, kuin tuota vaatimatonta turvetta, joka Pajalan kirkkomaalla peitt?? Laestadiuksen maalliset j??nn?kset ja h?nen nimens?, vaikka suuressa maailmassa tuskin tunnettu, el?? rakkaana muistona lappalaisten kodassa, uudisasukkaan matalassa m?kiss? ja suomalaisen salomajassa" .

Laestadius oli keskinkertainen kooltaan, vanhemmalla puolella ik??ns? lihavanl?nt?, kumaraniskanen. Kasvojen piirteiss? oli jotakin nerokasta ja puoleensavet?v??. Niiden henkil?iden seurassa, jotka eiv?t olleet menett?neet h?nen luottamustansa, voi h?n olla iloinen ja puhelias. Tuntikausia voi h?n vilkkaasti keskustella mit? huvittavimmista aineista. H?nelle vastenmielisten henkil?iden seurassa oli h?n j?r?, ep?kohtelias ja pisteli?s. Pyh?t, aret k?vi h?n kotikutoisissa sarkavaatteissa, pieksut jalassa ja suussa suunnattoman suuri pahkapiippu, johon kaksitoista apostolia oli leikattu. Piippu oli h?nelle pilkalla lahjaksi annettu. Ei h?n siit? v?litt?nyt, yht? hyv? se silti oli. Tupakanpoltto ja kahvinjuonti n?kyv?t olleen h?nen nautintojansa.

Ollen suuressa m??r?ss? vastakohtain mies, oli h?nen itsi?ss??n jotakin ep?sointuista ja arvoituksen tapaista. H?n voi kirjoittaa nerokkaasti ja hienosti; mutta usein kirjoitti h?n ihan kuin aivan sivistym?t?n mies, kertoen yht? ja samaa moneen kertaan. H?n oli verraton parannussaarnaaja ja h?nen saarnojensa s?vel on ankara, henki lainomainen, esitystapa h?mm?stytt?v?, milloin yksinkertaisten, milloin mielikuvitusta uhkuvain ja rohkeain, mutta aina miellytt?vien kuvainsa kautta. H?nen kielens? on uhkaava, toisinaan ihan t?rke? ja siivoton. Vastenmielisyys kaikenlaatuiseen pahaan sai h?nen pohjaltaan rakastavan syd?mmens? lausumaan v?linpit?m?tt?m?n ter?vi? sanoja. Rakkaudesta kansaan uhrasi h?n entisten yst?v?ins? suosion ja el?m?ns? rauhan. Vaikka totuutta rakastava, turvansi h?n toisinansa vilppiin, kun oli joutunut pulaan ja tahtoi siit? p??st?. H?nen hengen lahjansa olivat rikkaat ja h?nen opintonsa monipuoliset. Monessa suhteessa -- niinkuin esim. raittiuskysymyksess? -- oli h?n aikansa edell?. Ylpeytt? h?ness? ei milloinkaan huomattu. V?h?varaisuus nuorempana ja uskonnollisuus vanhempana n?yryyttiv?t h?net. Uskolaistensa parissa h?n nautti suurta luottamusta ja oli vanhemmalla puolen ik??ns? is?n? heille. Niit? maallikoita, joita h?n saarnaretkille l?hetti, h?n opasteli, neuvoi ja nuhteli, niinkuin is? poikiansa. Ulkopuolella her?tyst? oleville tuntemattomillekin ihmisille luuli h?n olevansa oikeutettu tekem??n hyvinkin nen?kk?it? kysymyksi? ja jos ei n?ihin mieluista vastausta saanut, tuomitsi h?n ne pahanp?iv?isiksi. Toisinaan tuo lappalaispukuun puettu mies tuntemattomana markkinoilla pist?ysi kauppiasten puotiloihin, kysellen, saisiko ostaa viinaa ja korttia. Jos sai my?nt?m?n vastauksen, silloin piti h?n kauppiaalle saarnan, joka oli kaikkea muuta kuin kohtelias. Jos taas kysymykseens? kielt?v?sti vastattiin, silloin lausui h?n kiitollisuutensa ja ilonsa siit?.

H?nest? lausuu J. A. Englund : "Varustettuna suurilla tiedemiehen lahjoilla, jotka luultavasti olosuhdetten takia eiv?t p??sseet t?ydellisesti kehittym??n, oli Laestadius hyvin ter?v?j?rkinen, h?nen mielikuvituksensa oli vilkas, muistonsa hyv?. Luonteeltaan ponteva kuin oli, ei h?n esteist? v?istynyt ja h?n oli juuri omiansa aina horjumattomalla rohkeudella, aina heikontumattomalla voimalla kest?m??n taistelussa. Vaikka karkea sanoiltaan ja lamoiltaan, voi h?n kuitenkin vieh?tt?? ymm?rryksens? ter?vyydell? ja esiytystapansa vilkkaudella. H?n oli oikia Lapin poika, aina omituinen, milloin mahdikas, milloin puutteenalainen, milloin kohottava, milloin alentava, milloin ik?v?, milloin miellytt?v?, milloin tyly, milloin yst?v?llinen, niinkuin niiden seutujen luonto, miss? h?n el?m?ns? p?iv?t vietti ja jos lis??mme, ett? tuon pinnan alla oli kosolta rautaa, niinkuin monessa h?nen kotimaansa vuoressa, niin on se semmoista, jota melkein koko h?nen el?m?ns? todistaa".

Koko Laestadiuksen el?m?n aika oli yht?mittaista ty?t?. H?nen ty?kykyns? oli tavaton. Jo h?nen kirjallinenkin toimensa osoittaa, ettei h?n ollut sen ajan tavallisia pappia, jotka, kun sunnuntaina lukivat seurakunnalle saarnansa, luulivat sill? tehneens? kaikki, mit? sielunpaimenelta voi vaatia. Sy?m?tt? h?n tavallisesti meni kirkkoon ja piti siell? kaksi saarnaa. Kotiin tultuansa h?n kansalle puheli hengellisist? asioista, opetti ja neuvoi ja vasta iltap?iv?ll? otti h?n ruokaa ruumiin ravinnoksi.

Kuinka suuresti Laestadiuksen oppilaat ja sanankuuliat h?nt? rakastivat, osoittaa parhaiten h?nen tuomioprovasti Wiesselgr?n'ille kirjoittamansa kirje, jossa h?n muun muassa lausuu: "He eiv?t ainoastansa syleile minua, vaan j??v?t kaulaani riippumaan ja hyppiv?t ilosta, kun n?kev?t minun, jota pit?v?t sen autuuden alkuunpanijana, jota nyt tuntevat. Min? olen kuitenkin usein huomauttanut heit? siit? seikasta, ett? tuo rakkaus minun itsi??ni on ep?jumalan palvelusta, jolleiv?t tee erotusta oikean alkuunpanijan ja sen v?lill?, joka on ollut aseena Herran k?dess?. Hurmauksissaan karkaavat muutamat kaulaani ja r?ykytt?v?t minua aika tavalla, niin ett? minun toisinaan on vaikea s?ilytt?? silmi?ni ja korviani".

Laestadiuksen el?m?nty? ja h?nen merkityksens? her?tyssaarnaajana ovat tulleet huomatuksi ulkopuolella h?nen kotimaatansakin. Saksalainen Bornbaum on "Evankelisen l?hetystoimen historia" nimisess? kirjassa kiitt?en h?nt? annostellut. Niin ik??n kiitett?v? arvostelu on h?nest? "Neues Zeitblatt f?r die Angelegenheiten der lutherischen Kirche" nimisess? saksalaisessa aikakauskirjassa vuodelta 1882.

Voidaksemme oikein arvostella Laestadiusta ja h?nen merkityst?ns? sille uskonnolliselle liikkeelle, joka h?nest? on nimens? saanut, on viel? tarkastettava h?nen uskonopillisia mielipiteit?ns?.

Vaikka Laestadius ei tahtonut muodostaa mit??n erityist? opinj?rjestelm??, h?n kun kauttaaltaan pyrki asettumaan alkuper?isen lutherilaisen tunnustuksen vakavalle pohjalle, on h?n kuitenkin uskonopin eri kohdista lausunut mielipiteit?, jotka ovat siksi omituisia ja h?nen katsantokantaansa niin kumoavia, ett? niist? on eritt?in mainittava h?nen el?m?kertaansa esitett?ess?. Laestadius oli syv?mielinen, vaikka ei juuri selv?, ajattelia, filosoofi ja h?nen filosoofiset mietiskelyns? ovat my?skin vaikuttaneet h?nen uskonopillisiin mielipiteisiins?. Er??ss? k?sikirjoituksena j?lkeens? j?tt?m?ss? ruotsinkielisess? kirjassa nimell? "Hulluinhuonelainen" on h?n j?rjesteellisesti esitt?nyt filosoofiset ja uskonopilliset mielipiteens?, joista viimemainituista sananen. .

Jos mieli oikein k?sitt?? Laestadiuksen uskonopillista katsantokantaa, on saatava selville h?nen omituiset k?sityksens? ihmisest?, sill? h?nen antropologiansa on melkoisesti vaikuttanut h?nen uskonoppiinsa. Filosoofina on Laestadius realisti ja materialisti. H?n kielt?? sielun olemassaolon ulkopuolella ja ilman ruumista. Sielu on abstraktinen el?m?, joka saa konkrettisuuden, tosioloisuuden elin- ja hermoel?m?n kautta. Elinel?m?n keskuksena on syd?n ja siihen kuuluvat subjektiiviset sielunominaisuudet, jommoisia ovat vaistot, vietit, himot, intohimot ja tunteet. Hermoel?m?n keskuksena ovat aivot ja siihen kuuluvat objektiiviset sielunominaisuudet, jommoisia omat muisto, luulotteluvoima, ymm?rrys, j?rki, tahto ja itsetiet?mys. Kun hermoel?m? on elimist?el?m?n alainen, seuraa siit?, ett? ihmisen j?rke? ja tahtoa m??r?? aina joku intohimo. Mutta intohimon laatua ja suuntaa ei ihminen voi m??r?t?, koska intohimon pohjana ovat elimet, jotka eiv?t riipu tahdosta. Laestadiuksen k?sityskannan mukaan siis ihmisell? ei ole varsinaista vapautta, sill? tahtoa m??r?? aina joku intohimo, johon ihminen ei voi mill??n tavalla vaikuttaa. Tahdon vapauden kielt?misest? seuraa johdonmukaisesti vastuunalaisuuden kielt?minen, sill? jos kerran ihmisen tahdon toiminta ei riipu h?nest? itsest?ns?, niin ei my?sk??n voi tehd? h?nt? vastuunalaiseksi teoistansa. Laestadius ei kuitenkaan milloinkaan ole vastuunalaisuutta kielt?nyt. P?invastoin on h?n raamatun mukaan opettanut, ett? kukin ihminen saa ijankaikkisuudessa t?ittens? ansion mukaan. T?m? on kuitenkin johdonvastaisuutta h?nen filosofiiansa kannalta. Jos Laestadius olisi johdonmukainen, t?ytyisi h?nen kielt?? sielun kuolemattomuudenkin, sill? jos sielu -- niin kuin h?n sanoo -- on metafyysinen prinsiippi eli voima, niin t?ytyy t?m?n voiman lakata olemasta, kun voiman ase, ruumis, kuoleman kautta hajautuu tomuksi. Mutta Laestadius on toista mielt?. "Jos sielu", sanoo h?n, "ei ole ekstensiivinen, vaan intensiivinen suuruus eli voima, niin ei ole kukaan filosoofi voinut todistaa sit?, ett? ainem??r? ja voima samalla kertaa h?vi?v?t eli ett? voiman t?ytyy h?vit?, kun ainem??r? lakkaa olemasta".

Kuvaavaa Laestadiuksen materialistisesta kannasta on my?skin h?nen k?sityksens? sieluel?m?n suhteesta ruumiin elimiin. Jokaisella sielunominaisuudella on n?et oma paikkansa ruumiin elimist?ss?. Tahdolla, ymm?rryksell?, j?rjell? ja itsetiet?myksell? ovat omat elimens?. Tahdon olopaikkana on se osa aivoista, josta nervi voluntarii alkunsa saavat. J?rjen elin "on etsitt?v? juuren ja pienen aivon keskell? suuren aivon pohjassa ajatuskyvyn alimmassa seudussa". Tunteen olopaikkana ja elimen? on syd?n, itsekk?isyys asustaa maksassa, omanvoitonpyynt? mahassa, kunnianhimo pernassa. Syd?n on my?skin intohimojen keskusaseena ja syd?mmeen keskittyy niiden vaikutus silloinkin, kuu ne syntyv?t muissa ruumiin elimiss? eli niiden vaikutuksesta.

Enkeliopin suhteen n?ytt?? Laestadius siin? eroavan raamatun k?sityskannasta, ett? h?n pit?? pahoja henki? inhimillisten intohimojen personifikatsiooneina. On olemassa kunnian perkele, kateuden perkele, koreuden perkele j.n.e. Omanvanhurskauden perkele se on, joka ilmestyskirjan mukaan Jumalan lapsia y?t? ja p?iv?? syytt??.

"Jumala on luomisessa antanut ihmiselle luontaisia ruumiin ja sielun ominaisuuksia, mutta kun ihminen v??rin k?ytt?? ruumiin ja sielun voimiaan pahoihin ajatuksiin, pahoihin himoihin, pahoihin t?ihin, niin helposti huomaa, ett? luonnollisen ihmisen sieluntoiminnan perusteena on yksinomaan perkele. Me olemme kyll? my?nt?neet, ett? ihmisell? nykyisess?kin alennuksen tilassa on negatiivinen kyky vastustaa intohimoja eli kyky olla pahoja himojansa tyydytt?m?tt?, mutta h?n v??rink?ytt?? t?t?kin tahdon kyky?. Luonnollisessa tilassaan on ihminen kokonaan perkeleen vallassa eik? h?n voi tahtoakaan hyv??, viel? v?hemmin voi h?n sit? tehd?".

"Jos armotettu on ainaisessa taistelussa perkelett? vastaan, niin eiv?t armonmerkit j?? n?kym?tt?: syd?n tulee araksi, murtuneeksi ja vaikka usko toisinaan tuntuukin heikoksi ja ep?ilyksetkin nousevat, l?htee kuitenkin evankeliumin sana saarnasta, Jumalan sanan lukemisesta tahi jostakin satunnaisesta tapauksesta; salamana lent?? se syd?mmen l?pi, el?hytt?? entisi? taivaallisia tunteita ja sielu saavuttaa taas sen levon, jonka tieto Jumalan armosta ja omantunnon rauhasta tuottaa. Kristitty ei saa kuitenkaan aina uskoa omia tunteitansa, sill? tunteet voivat olla v??ri?, jolleiv?t ne pid? yht? kirjoitetun sanan kanssa. Siksi onkin v?ltt?m?t?nt? vertailla kokemuksiansa Jumalan sanan kanssa s.o. niiden henkil?iden tunnetten kanssa, jotka ovat kirjoittaneet pyh?n raamatun. Kun kristityn kokemus pit?? yht? Pietarin, Paavalin ja muiden kristittyin kokemusten kanssa, silloin vasta voi h?n olla varma armontilastansa".

Niinkuin yll? esitetyst? otteesta n?kyy, vivahtaa Laestadiuksen ehtoollisoppi reformeeratun kirkon k?sitykseen. Ainoastansa se usko, joka nauttimistilassa ilmenee ilon tunteena on el?m? ja se tekee nauttijan osalliseksi Kristuksen ruumiin ja veren sovintouhrista. Niin h?n arvelee.

Laestadiuksen persoonallisuus on, kuten edell? kerrotusta k?y selv?ksi, ly?nyt leimansa siihen hengelliseen liikkeeseen, joka h?nest? on saanut nimens?. H?nen uskonopilliset omituisuutensa ja yksipuolisuutensa l?ytyv?t niinik??n laestadiolaisuudessa. Mink?laiseksi t?m? her?tys h?nen kuolemansa per?st? on muodostunut ja mink? verran se on s?ilytt?nyt alkuper?ist? omituisuuttansa tahi onko se jossakin suhteessa poikennut oppi-is?n perusaatteista, ovat kysymyksi?, joiden vastaaminen j??k??n vastaisen tutkimuksen teht?v?ksi. Meid?n teht?v?mme oli ainoastansa piirt?? muutamia el?m?kerrallisia kuvauksia siit? miehest?, joka enemm?n kuin ehk? kukaan Ruotsin evankelislutherilaisen kirkon opettajista on ollut aseena synnytt?m?ss? uskonnollista, samalla niin laajaa ja niin nopeaan entisi? olosuhteita l?pitunkevaa ja muodostavaa liikett?.

Semmoinen on p??piirteiss??n Lars Levi Laestadiuksen el?m?kerta. H?n oli tavallaan er?maassa huutavan ??ni, joka unesta her?tti paheisiin vaipuneen, h?vi?ns? partaalla olevan sukupolven. Innokkaana her?tyssaarnaajana, paheiden ankarana vastustajana, itsens? kielt?v?n? ja sanankuuliainsa parasta tarkoittavana sielunpaimenena on h?n arvosteltava. H?n erehtyi toisinansa, mutta h?n etsi kuitenkin rehellisesti totuutta ja koetti parhaan ymm?rryksens? mukaan sit? edist??.

Liian huono on h?n pylv??n nen?ss? yst?v?in jumalana palveltavaksi, mutta liian hyv? vihollisten maahan tallattavaksi.

In these negotiations the day passed over. It was now between seven and eight in the evening, and a battle must have ensued, either that night or next morning, had not an unexpected step been taken by the Queen. Without betraying Bothwell, she formed a resolution to rid herself from the bondage in which he kept her. She sent to desire that Kircaldy of Grange should come to speak with her, and she intimated to him her willingness to part from Bothwell as was demanded, if Morton and the other Lords would undertake to conduct her safely into Edinburgh, and there return to their allegiance. This overture, on being reported by Grange, was at once accepted, provided Mary agreed to dismiss Bothwell on the field. It may be easily conceived that to Bothwell himself such an arrangement was not particularly agreeable, and could never have entered the imagination, much less have been the deliberate proposal, of a loving and obedient wife. Historians, we think, have not sufficiently insisted on the strong presumption in Mary's favour, afforded by her conduct at Carberry Hill. It is true, that there might have been an understanding between her and Bothwell, that as soon as she was re-instated in her power, she would recall him to a share of her throne and bed. But even supposing that, notwithstanding the alleged violence of her love, she had been willing to consent to a temporary separation, both she and Bothwell knew the spirit of the men they had to deal with too well, to trust to the chance of outwitting them, after yielding to their demands. Mary must have been aware, that if she parted with Bothwell at all, she in all probability parted with him for ever. Had she truly loved him, she would rather have braved all risks than have abandoned him just at the crisis of his fortune. But she had at no period felt more than the commonest friendship for Bothwell; and since she had been seized by him at the Bridge of Almond, she had absolutely hated him. Melville, accordingly, expresses himself regarding this transaction in these terms. "Albeit her Majesty was at Carberry Hill, I cannot name it to be her army; for many of them that were with her, were of opinion that she had intelligence with the Lords; chiefly such as understood of the Earl Bothwell's mishandling of her, and many indignities that he had both said and done unto her since their marriage. He was so beastly and suspicious, that he suffered her not to pass a day in patience, or without giving her cause to shed abundance of salt tears. Thus, part of his own company detested him; and the other part believed that her Majesty would fain have been quit of him, but thought shame to be the doer thereof directly herself." Melville adds, that so determined was Bothwell not to leave the field if he could avoid it, that he ordered a soldier to shoot Grange when he overheard the arrangement which he and the Queen were making. It was "not without great difficulty," says another cotemporary writer, that Mary prevailed upon Bothwell to mount his horse, and ride away with a few followers back to Dunbar. There is no wonder;--but that a wife of one month's standing, who is said for his sake to have murdered her former husband, should permit, nay beseech him, thus to sneak off a field he might have won, had she allowed him to fight, is indeed strange and unaccountable. When Bothwell left Carberry Hill, he turned his back upon a Queen and a throne;--he left hope behind, and must have seen only ruin before.

As soon as her husband had departed, Mary desired Grange to lead her to the Lords. Morton and the rest came forward to meet her, and received her with all due respect. The Queen was on horseback, and Grange himself walked at her bridle. On riding up to the associated Nobles, she said to them,--"My Lords, I am come to you, not out of any fear I had of my life, nor yet doubting of the victory, if matters had gone to the worst; but I abhor the shedding of Christian blood, especially of those that are my own subjects; and therefore I yield to you, and will be ruled hereafter by your counsels, trusting you will respect me as your born Princess and Queen." Alas! Mary had not calculated either on the perfidy of the men to whom she had surrendered herself, or on the vulgar virulence of their hired retainers, who, having been disappointed in their hopes of a battle, thought they might take their revenge, by insulting the person of a Roman Catholic Sovereign, now for the first time standing before them somewhat in the light of a suitor and a prisoner. They led her into Edinburgh between eight and nine in the evening; and the citizens, hearing of the turn which affairs had taken, came out in great crowds, and lined the way as they passed. The envy and hatred of the more bigoted part of the rabble did not fail to exhibit itself. Royalty in misfortune, like a statue taken from its pedestal, is often liable to the rudest handling, simply because it has fallen from a height which previously kept it at a distance from the multitude. There had long rancoured in the bosoms of the more zealous and less honest Presbyterians, an ill-concealed jealousy of Mary's superiority; and in the mob which now gathered round her, the turbulent and unprincipled led the way, as they commonly do in a mob, to insult and outrage. So far from being allowed to return to Edinburgh as a Queen, and to take possession of her wonted state, Mary was forced to ride as a captive in a triumphal show. The hatred which was borne towards Bothwell was transferred to her, and the Lords, at the head of whom was the crafty Morton, forgetting the proclamation they had made only two days before, announcing their intention to rescue the Queen from the bondage in which she was held, only took her from one tyrant to retain her in the hands of many. As the cavalcade proceeded, a banner was displayed in front, on which was represented the King lying dead at the foot of a tree, and the young Prince upon his knees near him, exclaiming--"Judge and revenge my cause, O Lord!" The people shouted with savage exultation, as this ensign was carried past, and turning their eyes on the Queen, who was dissolved in tears, they scrupled not, by the coarse malice of their expressions, to add to the agony of her feelings.

When Mary arrived in Edinburgh, and found she was not to be taken to Holyrood House, , she gave up all for lost, and in her despair called upon all who came near her to rescue her from the hands of traitors. But an excitement had just been given to the public mind, which it required some hours of sober reflection to allay. No one interfering in her behalf, she was taken to the Provost's house in the High Street, where she was lodged for the night. The crowd gradually dispersed, and the Lords were left to themselves to arrange their future plan of procedure. Kircaldy of Grange, was the only one among them who was disposed to act honourably. He reminded them that he had been commissioned to assure the Queen of their loyal services, provided she parted from Bothwell, and came over to them,--and as she had fulfilled her part of the agreement, he did not think it right that they should fail in theirs. Influenced by these representations, a division might thus have taken place among themselves, had not Morton fallen on an expedient to silence the scruples of Grange. He produced a letter, which he alleged Mary had just written to Bothwell, and which he had intercepted, in which she was made to declare, that she was resolved never to abandon him, although for a time she might be obliged to yield to circumstances. Kircaldy, possessing all the blunt sincerity of a soldier, and being little given to suspicion, was startled by this letter, and left Morton, in consequence, to take his own way. That the pretended epistle was in truth a mere hasty forgery, is proved to demonstration, by the fact that, important as such a document would have been, it was never afterwards alluded to by the Lords, nor produced in evidence along with the other papers they so laboriously collected to lay before Elizabeth's Commissioners. From this specimen of their honesty, we may guess what reliance is to be placed on the authenticity of writings, subsequently scraped together by men who, on the spur of the moment, executed a forgery so clumsily, that they were unable to avail themselves of it on any future occasion. But Morton's intriguing spirit was again busily at work; and having the Queen's person once more in his possession, and being apparently supported by the people, he was determined on taking a step which would secure him Elizabeth's lasting gratitude, and might ultimately raise him to the regency of Scotland. He, therefore, veered suddenly round; and though he had asserted, on the 12th of June, that Mary was kept in unwilling bondage by Bothwell, he saw it prudent to maintain on the 15th, that there was no man in Scotland to whom she was so passionately attached. In support of this assertion, the letter became a necessary fabrication; and Morton well knew that a political falsehood, though credited only for a day, may be made a useful engine in the hands of a skilful workman.

In addition to this act of Privy Council, which was no doubt the production of Morton, and is signed by him and Athol, and six other noblemen of less note, a bond of association was drawn up the same day, in which an explanation was given at greater length, of the system on which the Lords were about to proceed. It is a remarkable feature of this bond, that, in so far as Mary is concerned, it very materially contradicts the act of Council. Instead of containing any accusation against her, it represents her throughout as having been the victim of force and fraud. It commences by stating the conviction of the subscribers, that Bothwell was the murderer of Darnley, and that, had he himself not taken means to prevent a fair trial, he would have been convicted of the crime. It goes on to assert, that, adding wickedness to wickedness, the Earl had treasonably, and without any reverence for his native Prince, carried her prisoner to his castle at Dunbar, and had afterwards pretended unlawfully to marry her; which being accomplished, his cruel and ambitious nature immediately showed itself, "no nobleman daring to resort to her Majesty to speak with her without suspicion, unless in his presence and hearing, and her chamber-doors being continually watched by armed men." It is therefore maintained that their interference was necessary, both on account of the "shameful thraldom" in which the Queen was kept, and the great danger of the young Prince, her only son. They had taken up arms, they say, against Bothwell, and to deliver their sovereign; and though they had already chased him from his unlawful authority, they considered themselves obliged to continue in arms till "the authors of the murder and ravishing were condignly punished, the pretended marriage dissolved, their sovereign relieved of the thraldom, bondage, and ignominy, which she had sustained, and still underlies by the said Earl's fault, the person of the innocent prince placed in safety, and, finally, justice restored and uprightly administered to all the subjects of the realm."

This, then, was all the length to which Morton and the other Lords, as yet ventured. They had sent Mary to Loch-Leven, merely to keep her at a safe distance from Bothwell; and as soon as they had seized his person, or driven him from the kingdom, it was of course implied that they would restore their sovereign to her throne. They did not hint, in the most distant manner, that she was in the least implicated in the guilt of her husband's death; and they expressly declared that, for every thing which had taken place since, Bothwell alone was to blame. Judging by their own words, they entertained as much respect for the Queen as ever; and the impression they gave to the country was, that they intended she should remain at Loch-Leven only for a short time, and that so far from meaning to punish one whom they accused of no crime, by forcing from her an abdication of her crown, and condemning her to perpetual imprisonment, they would soon be found rallying round her, and conducting her back to her capital in triumph. These may have been the hopes entertained by some; but they forgot that Morton, who was at the head of the new faction, had assassinated Rizzio, and countenanced the murder of Darnley;--and that Murray, though at present in France, had left the country only till new disturbances should afford new prospects for his inordinate ambition.

MARY AT LOCHLEVEN, HER ABDICATION, AND MURRAY'S REGENCY.

Scotland was now in the most unfortunate condition in which a country could possibly be. Like a ship without a pilot, it was left at the mercy of a hundred contrary opinions; and it was not long before there sprung out of these two opposing currents or distinct parties, known by the name of the Queen's and the Prince's. Morton and his friends calling themselves the Prince's Lords, continued at Edinburgh; whilst the Queen's nobles assembled at Hamilton Palace in very considerable force, having among them, besides the Hamiltons, Huntly, , Argyle, , Rothes, Caithness, Crawfurd, Boyd, Herries, Livingston, Seaton, Ogilvie, and others. Morton laboured to effect a coalition with these Lords; but though he employed the mediation of the General Assembly, they would not consent to any proposals he made them. Buchanan himself is forced to allow, that affairs took a very different turn from what was expected. "For popular envy being abated, partly by time, and partly by the consideration of the uncertainty of human affairs, commiseration succeeded; nay, some of the nobility did then no less bewail the Queen's calamity than they had before execrated her cruelty." The truth is, that Mary's friends were at this time much more numerous than her enemies; but unfortunately they were not sufficiently unanimous in their councils, to be able to take any decisive steps in her behalf.

Morton earnestly laboured to increase the popularity of his faction by every means in his power. To please the multitude, he apprehended several persons, whom he accused of being implicated in the murder of Darnley; and though he probably knew them to be innocent, they were all condemned and executed, with the exception of Sebastian, the Queen's servant, who was seized with the view of casting suspicion on Mary herself, but who contrived to escape. Thus, they who blamed Mary for being too remiss in seeking out and punishing the murderers, were able to console themselves with the reflection, that, under the new order of things, persons were iniquitously executed for the sake of appearances, by those who had themselves been Bothwell's accomplices. Against Bothwell himself, Morton, for his own sake, proceeded with more caution. It was not till the 26th of June, that letters were addressed to the keeper of the Castle at Dunbar, ordering him to deliver up his charge, because he had received and protected Bothwell; and, on the same day, a proclamation was issued, offering the moderate reward of a thousand crowns to any one who should apprehend the Earl. It is singular that these Lords, who were so fully convinced of his criminality, not only allowed him to depart unmolested from Carberry Hill, but took no steps, for ten days afterwards, towards securing his person.

"Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy; Thy schooldays frightful, desp'rate, wild, and furious; Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous; Thy age confirmed, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody."

In the meantime, foreign courts were not inattentive to the state of affairs in Scotland. An ambassador arrived from Mary's friends in France; but finding, to his astonishment, that she was imprisoned, and that some of the nobility had usurped the government, he refused to acknowledge their authority, and immediately left the country. Elizabeth's messenger, who came about the same time, was less scrupulous; and, indeed, few things could have given that Queen greater satisfaction, than the turn which Scottish affairs had recently taken. In the letters she sent by her ambassador Sir Nicholas Throckmorton, are discovered all that duplicity, affected sincerity, and real heartlessness, which so constantly distinguish the despatches of Cecil and his mistress. After taking it for granted, in direct opposition to the declarations of the rebel Lords themselves, that Mary had given her consent to the hasty marriage with Bothwell, and that she was consequently implicated in all his guilt, Elizabeth proceeds with no little contradiction, to assure her good sister that she considers her imprisonment entirely unjustifiable. But the insincerity of her desire, that the Queen of Scots should recover her liberty, is evinced by the very idle conditions she suggests should first be imposed upon her. These are, that the murderers of Darnley should be immediately prosecuted and punished, and that the young Prince should be preserved free from all danger;--just as if Mary could punish murderers before they were discovered or taken, unless, indeed, she chose to follow the example of her Lords, and condemn the innocent; and as if she had lost the natural affection of a mother, and would have delivered her only son to be butchered, as his father had been. In short, Morton and his colleagues had no difficulty in perceiving, that though Elizabeth thought it necessary, for the sake of appearances, to pretend to be displeased with them, yet that they had, in truth, never stood higher in her good graces. They well knew, as they had observed in the case of Murray, and experienced in their own, that Elizabeth seldom said what she meant, or meant what she said.

When Throckmorton came into Scotland, in July 1567, although he was allowed no more access to the Queen than had been granted to the French ambassador, yet, as his instructions authorized him to treat with the Lords of Secret Council, he of course remained. From them he received an explanation of their late proceedings, containing some of the most glaring contradictions ever exhibited in a State paper. They do not throw out the most distant suspicion of the Queen being implicated in Bothwell's guilt; on the contrary, they continue to express their conviction that she became his wife very unwillingly, and only after force had been used; but they allege, as their reason for imprisoning her, the change which took place in her mind an hour or two after she parted with her husband at Carberry Hill. They state, that, immediately after, Bothwell, "caring little or nothing for her Majesty" left her to save himself, and that after she, caring as little for him, had parted company from him, and voluntarily come with them to Edinburgh, they all at once, and most unexpectedly, "found her passion so prevail in maintenance of him and his cause, that she would not with patience hear speak any thing to his reproof, or suffer his doings to be called in question; but, on the contrary, offered to give over the realm and all, so that she might be suffered to enjoy him, with many threatenings to be revenged on every man who had dealt in the matter." This was surely a very sudden and inexplicable change of mind; for, in the very same letter, with an inconsistency which might almost have startled themselves, these veracious Lords declare, that "the Queen, their Sovereign, had been led captive, and, by fear, force, and other extraordinary and more unlawful means, compelled to become bed-fellow to another wife's husband;" that even though they had not interfered, "she would not have lived with him half a year to an end;" and that at Carberry Hill, a separation voluntary on both sides took place. Was it, therefore, for a moment to be credited, that during the short interval of a few hours, which elapsed between this separation and Mary's imprisonment in Loch-Leven, she could either have so entirely altered her sentiments regarding Bothwell, or, if they had in truth never been unfavourable, so foolishly and unnecessarily betrayed them, as to convince her nobility, that to secure their own safety, and force her to live apart from him, no plan would be of any avail, but that of shutting her up in a strong and remote castle? And even if this expedient appeared advisable at the moment, did they think that, if Mary was now restored to liberty, she would set sail for Denmark, and join Bothwell in his prison there? No; they did not go so far; for, in conclusion, they assured Throckmorton, that, "knowing the great wisdom wherewith God hath endowed her," they anticipated that within a short time her mind would be settled, and that as soon as "by a just trial they had made the truth appear, she would conform herself to their doings."

The Earl of Murray was in the meantime anxiously watching the progress of affairs in Scotland, and, though still in France, had so contrived, that he possessed as much influence in the counsels of the nation as Morton himself. The Lords indeed had long been in close correspondence with him. Letters from them were forwarded to him by Cecil, who exchanged frequent communications with Murray; and, on the 26th of June, four days before Throckmorton left London for Scotland, Cecil wrote to the English ambassador at Paris, that "Murray's return into Scotland was much desired, for the weal both of England and Scotland." But as Murray had attempted to ingratiate himself at the French Court, by exaggerating his fidelity to Mary, he found it impossible to disengage himself immediately from the connexions he had there made, not anticipating so sudden a revolution in the state of affairs at home. He sent, however, an agent into Scotland, of the name of Elphinston, whom he commissioned to attend to his interests, and whom the Lords allowed to visit the Queen at Loch-Leven, though they refused every body else. It is not likely that Morton, who had thus a second time been engaged in setting up a ladder for Murray to ascend by, was altogether pleased to find that he could not obtain the first place for himself. As soon as he determined to force Mary to abdicate the Crown, he saw that he would be obliged to yield the Regency to Murray, supported as that nobleman was, both by his numerous friends in England and Scotland, and the earnest recommendations of Knox and the other preachers, who, in their anxiety to see their old patron once more Lord of the ascendant, "took pieces of Scripture, and inveighed vehemently against the Queen, and persuaded extremities against her, by application of the text." Morton, however, consoled himself with the reflection, that he was in great favour with Murray, and that, by acting in concert with him, he would enjoy a scarcely inferior degree of power and honour.

Preparatory to extorting from her an abdication, the Lords anxiously circulated a report, that the Queen was devotedly and almost insanely attached to Bothwell. They did not venture, it is true, to put this attachment to the test, by publicly offering her reasonable terms of accommodation, which, if she had refused, all men would have acknowledged her infatuation, and deserted her cause;--they brought her to no trial,--they proved her guilty of no crime; all they did was to endeavour to impose upon the vulgar. They asserted that Mary would not agree to prosecute the perpetrators of the murder, after she had already prosecuted them,--and that she would not consent to abandon a husband whom she had already abandoned, and with whom, they themselves had declared, only a few weeks before, she could not, under any circumstances, have lived for many months. Throckmorton, who was willing enough to propagate all the absurd falsehoods they told him, wrote to Elizabeth,--"she avoweth constantly that she will live and die with him; and saith, that if it were put to her choice to relinquish her Crown and kingdom, or the Lord Bothwell, she would leave her kingdom and dignity, to go as a simple damsel with him; and that she will never consent that he shall fare worse, or have more harm than herself." But the numerous party in favour of the Queen openly avowed their disbelief of these reports; and Elizabeth herself, who began to fear that, in sending Throckmorton to the rebel Lords, she had countenanced the weaker side, wrote to her ambassador on the 29th of August in the following terms, which, as they are used by an enemy so determined as Elizabeth, speak volumes in favour of Mary:--"We cannot perceive, that they, with whom they have dealt, can answer the doubts moved by the Hamiltons, who, howsoever they may be carried for their private respects, yet those things which they move will be allowed by all reasonable persons. For if they may not, being noblemen of the realm, be suffered to hear the Queen, their Sovereign, declare her mind concerning the reports which are made of her by such as keep her in captivity, how should they believe the reports, or obey them which do report it?"

That Mary refused to return to her throne, unless Bothwell was placed upon it beside her, is an assertion so ridiculous, that no time need be lost in refuting it. That she may not have chosen to submit to an immediate divorce from one whom all her nobility had recommended to her as a husband, and by whom she might possibly have a child, is within the verge of probability. She would naturally be anxious to avoid doing any thing which would be equivalent with acknowledging her belief of his guilt, and might have appeared to implicate her in the suspicion attached to him. She had not married Bothwell till he had been judicially acquitted; and were she to consent to be divorced from him before he was again tried, she would seem to confess, that she had previously sanctioned a procedure possessing the show of justice, without the substance. There can be no doubt, however, that if Bothwell's guilt had been distinctly proved to her, and if she could have disunited herself from him without injury to her reputation or her prospects, she would have been the very last person to have objected either to see Darnley's death revenged, or herself freed from an alliance into which she had been forced against her will.

Were we to single out the day in Mary's whole life in which it might be fairly concluded that she suffered the most intense mental anguish, we should fix on the 25th of July 1567, the day on which the Commissioners had their audience. Shut up in a gloomy edifice, which, though dignified with the name of a castle, was little else than a square tower of three stories; and instead of a numerous assemblage of obsequious nobles, attended by only three or four female servants;--it must have required a more than common spirit of queenly fortitude to support so great a reverse of fortune. But the misery of her situation was now to be increased a hundred fold, by a blow the severest she had yet experienced. When the report first reached her, that it was in contemplation to force her to abdicate her crown, she indignantly refused to believe so lawless an attempt possible. Mary had been all her life fond of power, and proud of

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