But perhaps it will be urged that the same perversion of mind which Jesus condemns is displayed by the modern inquirer, who does not discern in the Gospel the great essentials of Christianity; that his disbelief in them, in short, is not wholly involuntary. A few words to this objection.
I admit that faith is a compound result of the will and the understanding; connected indeed most obviously with the latter, but determined more remotely by causes having their seat in the former. In the process of investigation, the last step, of weighing arguments and making up the mind, is undoubtedly involuntary. When the evidence is once placed before the inquirer, no energy of will can repel the conclusion which is forced upon the judgment. When, however, we perceive that the very same reasoning produces different results on different persons, that one man is forcibly impressed by an argument which to another appears weak and worthless, it becomes necessary to account for these varieties in the effects of evidence. And there can be no doubt that the perception of truth is very materially influenced by the moral condition of the mind. How powerful are the arguments in favor of the Gospel derived from the moral beauty and symmetry of the system, from the originality and loftiness of our Saviour's character, from the adaptation of his religion to the wants of the human mind under all its countless varieties! And yet this species of evidence will be wholly without effect on those whose minds are destitute of moral sensibility and refinement. Moreover, it is notorious that the sanguine are always apt to believe what they hope, the timid what they fear; and the hopes and fears of conscience will exert this influence on belief no less than any other. Prejudice which might be conquered, indolence which ought to be shaken off, passions which blind and corrupt the judgment, uneasy conscience which alienates the desires from God, all these may exercise a powerful moral sway over the faith; and for the influence of these every man is certainly accountable.
But at the same time there is no reason to doubt that God has created us with intellectual differences which are wholly involuntary, and which must tend to fix the determinations of the judgment. There are some men who, from their earliest years, seem incapable of admitting a truth without double the evidence with which others would be satisfied. Who then among us is to determine what mind is most correctly strung? Is the man who admits a proposition on one degree of evidence to condemn his brother who requires two? And is it credible that God will accept of none but him whom he has himself placed at the only true point in the gradation? Impossible! As well might we say that his heaven is closed against the insane or the deformed.
It appears then, my friends, that belief flows from causes partly moral, partly intellectual. But can any human eye, I ask, discern in what proportion they are mingled in any one's faith? Dare you say of your differing brother, that he differs from a prevailing depravity of heart, and not from constitutional causes? If not, then is there no human tribunal to which opinion may be called. We are not forbidden to love any fellow-creature, however remote his views from ours. As we are unable to discover how far diversities of sentiment flow from the will, we are bound to treat them all as if they were entirely involuntary, and to leave to the Searcher of hearts the award of approbation or displeasure.
Again, the faith rejected in the case which our Lord condemns, is not the same that is renounced by the erring Christian. What is the Christianity, the disbelief of which is pronounced by Jesus to be so dangerous? Is it the Christianity of Luther, of Calvin, of Arius, of Wesley? No, but the Christianity of the Apostles, which they were "to preach to every creature." Now in this all professing Christians believe; and from it they derive those views which, when once severed from their origin and entering the province of human reason, so rapidly diverge from each other. It is in vain to urge that all these systems, contradictory as they are, cannot coincide with revelation; and that there must, therefore, be some that do not constitute Christianity. The Gospel itself, considered as a revelation, bears the same relation to all the rival creeds whose credit hangs on its authority; like the beam of the balance, which determines the scale neither way. Let me not be mistaken, my friends. I mean not to say that all systems of Christian faith are equally true, or equally accordant with the sacred writings; but that their relative truth is undetermined by the authority of revelation, and dependent on the correctness of the reasoning by which they are deduced from Scripture. All begin with reverencing the Gospel; and this screens them from our Saviour's condemnation. They then employ themselves in reasoning on the sacred writings that lie before them; and if they then separate from each other, it is through the same fallibility of mind which multiplies opinions on other subjects, and for which assuredly God will bring no man into judgment. The various systems of Christian faith are but the diverging streams which flow from the fountain of living waters: some may take a straighter, others a more devious way; some may receive a scantier, others a more copious admixture from a different source; some may roll over a purer, others over a fouler bed; but all contain the healing current which gushed from the smitten rock, and all, I doubt not, are bearing onwards to meet at last in the ocean of eternal rest.
Why then, my brethren, must we be handling terrors which it is not ours to distribute, and sending forth into the dark these fearful guesses at judgment? Why must our feeble hand be playing with the lightning, and letting loose the hurricane? Rather let us imitate God. Does he brand the heretic with his curse? Does he pour the elements in fury around his dwelling? Does he set a mark on him, that any one finding him may slay him? See, the sunshine still smiles upon his roof; the shower still refreshes his field; the charities and hopes of life are still poured upon his heart. And cannot we cheer with our human love the creature whom our Father disdaineth not to bless? Are we so sinless as to stand apart in our holiness from the being with whom the Majesty of heaven can condescend to dwell, whom Infinite Purity stoops to cherish? At least let us wait for the disclosure of those secret counsels which we dare to scan. It will be time enough to hate when God condemns, to shun when God driveth away. Be assured, my brethren, no soul ever perished for too much charity. "Be ye therefore perfect, as your Father in heaven is perfect."
III. It is the duty of every Christian in an age of controversy to make an open, undisguised statement of his opinions, and of the evidence which satisfies him of their truth. How seldom do you see that union of courage and charity which the spirit of the Gospel should impart! Here you find one who discovers nothing in the religion of his brethren but errors to controvert; who cannot perceive any Christianity beyond the peculiarities of his own creed, and thinks that all the evils of society are to be traced to the opinions of which he has discerned the fallacy. There, on the other hand, is one who, without perceiving the difference between discussion and wrangling, entertains a foolish dread of all controversy, and, as if the mutual good-will of mankind depended on their uniformity of faith, suppresses his own views, and melts down the distinctions which separate them from the views of others. The enlightened Christian will acknowledge that both these are in the extreme. Against the exclusive spirit of the former the preceding part of this discourse may be a sufficient remonstrance; and I will conclude with a few remarks in reference to the latter. It must be admitted that the fear of making an open profession of faith is a not unnatural fruit of the despotism with which society persecutes those who deviate from its established modes of thinking. A vast machinery of refined intimidation is prepared, to awe down every rising spirit that seeks to emerge from the thraldom of authorized custom into the glorious liberty of the sons of God. The charge of singularity, the smile of wonder, the sneer of aristocratical derision, the cold recoil of suspicion, and the open upbraidings of bigotry, are the keen weapons by which the world hastens to assault the conscientious openness which it ought to hail and venerate. Assailed by so many enemies, it is little wonder that the weak and timid should fall into that "fear of man which bringeth a snare"; and that this should often lead them to act where they should keep aloof, and to be passive where they should act; to speak when they should be silent, and oftener to be silent when they should speak; to think within the barriers of established rules, or, when more convenient, not to think at all. But however natural may be the origin of this accommodating flexibility in the intolerance of society, it receives no justification hence; it is utterly incompatible with that Christian simplicity which is ever the same to men and to God, which unfolds the character to the view in harmonious proportion, and would scorn to appear other than it is. It can exist only in the mind that loves the praise of men more than the praise of God.
I cannot leave this concluding part of my subject, without remembering that I am animadverting on a fault which has been peculiarly charged on my own sacred profession. The ministers of the Gospel, it has been said, the very men who should live under the constant eye of God, have ever afforded the most signal examples of the fear of man. My brethren, I confess it with shame: and it is a truth to which I can never revert without feelings of indignant sorrow. Happily there have been many noble exceptions, and in this place it is not difficult to bring many before the view. But the more I read the past records of the Church, and the more I study its secret history at the present day, the more painfully strong is my conviction that the ministers of the Gospel have been the most temporizing class of men. They are the appointed investigators of sacred truth, employed expressly for the purpose of opening the treasuries of divine wisdom and knowledge; and yet from none has society gained fewer accessions of truth and light. Though stationed by their office between heaven and earth, they have gathered upon their souls more influences from below than from above; though ordained to declare the whole counsel of God, they have more often studied the taste than the wants of their hearers; though encircled in the discharge of their duties by an arm almighty to uphold, they too have felt afraid. My beloved friends, I know not how it appears to others, but to me it seems that in the whole Christian code there is not a duty of more clear and paramount obligation than the honest, simple avowal of Christian truth. The first natural dictate of the mind is to speak what it thinks on any subject of deep interest and importance; and I am persuaded that a man must sophisticate his conscience, must fill his judgment with forced reasoning and false excuses, before he can come to the conclusion that he had better keep truth to himself. Do you ask me, "What is truth? Amid the conflicting sentiments of mankind, how is it possible with confidence to take up any as exclusively just?" I answer, every man's own convictions to him are truth, to him are Christianity; and that to conceal them is to act the part of the wicked and slothful servant who buried his master's talent in the earth. It signifies not that men may obtain acceptance with God without thinking as you think; God forbid that I should for a moment doubt that! But do you believe that truth is better for man than error? Do you believe that they are not both alike to his mental and moral condition? If so, it is selfishness, it is sinful exclusion, to wrap yourself up in the solitary enjoyment of your own convictions. For my part, I see nothing but hypocrisy in the elaborate attempts which are sometimes put forth, to make opinions look like popular creeds, by slurring over grand points of distinction, by pushing forward apparent resemblances, by a dexterous use of ambiguous phrases, and other arts equally worthy of a Christian's scorn. Indeed, my fellow-Christians, we ought never to be content till this great principle has been established,—that, in obeying the noble law of Christian openness and sincerity, it is not the business of the human being to calculate consequences at all; that temporal expediency must in no degree enter into the consideration. God is the author of truth, and he will take care of its consequences; and I am well satisfied that, let appearances be what they may, honesty will bring after it nothing but good. Even suppose that we should be found to be in error: then, the sooner it is exposed the better; and nothing is so likely to lead to its exposure as the undisguised publication of its evidence. "Opinion in good men," it has been beautifully remarked, "is but knowledge in the making"; and it is by sifting the grounds on which opinions rest, by bringing them into close comparison, and setting many minds to work upon them, that truth is at length elicited; and he is no enlightened lover of truth, who is an enemy to the avowal of opinion. It is to be lamented that the world has been so successful in circulating the feeling, even among the well-meaning of mankind, that there can be anything to be ashamed of in opinion; for hence has arisen an association of fear, and almost of conscious guilt, with one of the noblest and first duties of the mind, the duty of thinking for itself. Let the inquirer and the teacher keep their eye steadily fixed upon the Scriptures, make it their single object to know and to communicate what they contain; let them utterly forget that there are any inspectors of their conduct, any listeners to their words, except God and their own conscience; and I am satisfied that truth and charity will spread together, and more union be produced among the now widely dissevered portions of the Christian world, than any timid mediators, striving to be all things to all men, will ever be able to effect. The alarmed reconciler of inconsistencies may seem for a while to be successful; he may keep together in temporary harmony those dissimilar elements which more fearless spirits might separate; he may persuade men that they agree when they are wide as the poles asunder; he may surround himself by numbers, and multiply the directions in which his immediate influence extends. On the other hand, the reformer who cannot conceal, and who dare not pretend, who interprets most strictly the law of Christian simplicity, may lose many supporters who ought to stand by him in the hour of trial; he may be looked on with suspicion and avoided as dangerous; he may be the centre at which a thousand weapons are directed; he may seem to have been imprudent and premature, and to have baffled his own cause by his indiscreet openness; he may go down to the evening termination of his labors, accompanied only by a faithful few, and cheered by no multitude of approving voices. But wait till a generation has passed away, and then come and look into the field occupied by these two laborers. Then you will find it proved that numbers are not always strength; when gathered together by the feeble bond of private influence, they are scattered when that influence is withdrawn. The timid man has left no permanent trace behind him; he has inspired no courage, provided no security for the future, and the grass has grown over the road that leads to his temple. But the man who has not feared to tell the whole truth is remembered and appealed to by succeeding generations; his name, pronounced in his lifetime with reproach, becomes a familiar term of encouragement; his thoughts, his spirit, long survive him, gather together new and more powerful advocates, and are associated with the records of imperishable truth.