“Surely you speak your own opinions in describing thus warmly the faith of the preacher.”
“I do. He is accountable for nothing I say. All I assert is, that this is how I seem to myself to succeed in understanding him.”
“How is it that so many good people call him heterodox?”
“I do not mind that. I am annoyed only when good-hearted people, with small natures and cultivated intellects, patronise him, and talk forgivingly of his warm heart and unsound judgment. To these, theology must be like a map—with plenty of lines in it. They cannot trust their house on the high table-land of his theology, because they cannot see the outlines bounding the said table-land. It is not small enough for them. They cannot take it in. Such can hardly be satisfied with the creation, one would think, seeing there is no line of division anywhere in it. They would take care there should be no mistake.”
“Does God draw no lines, then?”
“When he does, they are pure lines, without breadth, and consequently invisible to mortal eyes; not Chinese walls of separation, such as these definers would construct. Such minds are à priori incapable of theorising upon his theories. Or, to alter the figure, they will discover a thousand faults in his drawing, but they can never behold the figure constructed by his lines, and containing the faults which they believe they discover.”
“But can those theories in religion be correct which are so hard to see?”
“They are only hard to certain natures.”
“But those natures are above the average.”
“Yes, in intellect and its cultivation—nothing more.”