Empire can be overthrown by opinions as to what have been the consequences of that decline and fall upon the world. It would seem the first question of an honest mind must be this;-Am I, or am I not, bound to receive the facts of Christianity as true? And the next question should be,— Do the doctrines of Christianity rest firmly upon these facts? These questions are to be tried upon their proper merits, with an honest consideration of the direct evidence in the case. If we find ourselves obliged, by every law of right reasoning, to answer these questions in the affirmative, it is dishonest evasion of the real point at issue, to cry out against the truth of Christianity because she has been the origin and cause of certain ill effects. If history proves Christianity to have come from God, we are bound to receive it as true, nor, while this is shown to be the case with regard to the origin of our religion, can a corrupt influence have been exerted by the religion itself.

We have another like dishonest evasion of the real question when the truth of Christianity is tested by the conduct of her professors. The argument must stand thus. Christianity is not true because Christians are not perfect men. Or, Christianity is not true because we have known many bad men who assumed to themselves the Christian name. How would this argument stand if turned against the objector? Infidelity is not true because infidels are not perfect men. Infidelity is not true because many infidels have been bad men. For, let it be observed, infidelity, as much as Christianity, is a system of belief. It is a system indeed without order or beauty. Its creed comprises articles most incongruous and most inconsistent with each other. Infidelity, indeed, while it rejects the Christian miracles, proposes to the understanding greater wonders, and exacts a faith more blind than does Christianity. The principle of faith takes its root in the very essence of the soul and cannot be torn from it. The infidel believes in eternity, but rejects an Eternal Spirit! He has full faith in immensity, but denies that there can be an Infinite God! Suppose, then, we should direct against infidelity itself the argument which the unbeliever urges against the Christian faith. Why, he would not have an inch of ground left him to stand upon while he should make his attack. But, in fact, this very argument, as used against Christianity by the unbeliever, developes the strength of the Christian cause. For it is the peculiar glory of the Christian faith that it does propose to man perfection as his only worthy aim. It requires and is

adapted to produce the greatest expansion of the soul, and the most harmonious development of all its powers,-it crushes sin in its origin and at its very seat in the heart,-it casts its forbidding look at the unjust purpose ere it is formed, and frowns down the evil disposition at the moment of the first faint consciousness of its existence. And, besides, can the infidel presume to deny that Christians have, in all ages of the church, been the purest and noblest portion of the human race? Will he refuse to acknowledge that the understanding, and reason, and conscience of the HUMAN RACE have received Christianity as true? Thus, even allowing that the argument against Christianity from the character of its professors, bears upon the case, it is an argument which, while it overthrows the very ground which the infidel occupies in presenting it, at the same time brings out to view the strength of the positions on which Christianity rests.

But, it may be asked, how can a person persuade himself actually to disbelieve Christianity by reasonings which he, at the outset, in his own heart knows do not tend to its disproof? In replying to this we must touch upon what has before been alluded to, the influence of the will upon belief. On every great subject there are many general courses of thought among which the mind has liberty to make its own choice. There are different points from which it may be viewed, and on either of these points the mind may place itself. We may propose to ourselves various questions in regard to the subject, and, as we please, consider these questions in either their affirmative or negative aspects. We may enter into an honest investigation of all the evidence bearing upon the inquiries we propose, or we may select from that evidence all that tends to further some purpose we have in view, and neglect the rest. We may occupy our attention and fill our whole mind with certain partial views which, considered by themselves, and habitually regarded as embracing everything important in the case, will furnish ample opportunity for the successful action of that purpose. Especially is there opportunity for all this process to take place in the mind when the subject of thought is not a question of mere abstract curiosity, but concerns some institution which has acted and is acting with immense power upon the interests of the human race, and is thus a subject of living interest to our own hearts. The institution may be one which pretends to discuss and decide questions relating to the whole happiness and duty of my immortal soul. It may be an institution that has firmly established

itself among men,-it may have closely entwined itself with every other institution,-it may exert its influence upon every other interest of men, and, from the seat of its power, extend itself in every direction over the surface of the globe. This institution calls for my affection and service. The call excites in me a lively interest. My pulse quickens with emotion. The question immediately arises,-What shall I do? And that question conscience answers. Examine the claims that are presented, and if you find them just, your affection and service you must not fail to render. Gladly I obey the direction. But, anon, I find that this institution rebukes some of my habitual practices and opposes some of my cherished desires. Conscience had done the same thing before, but, instead of hushing the passions to listen to her quiet remonstrance, I had encouraged their tumult, and increased their power by giving my ear to the syren voices of temptation from without. And now again, strengthening her before timid voice, in the same strain, but with a louder tone, she commands me to submit to the rebuke and still conduct

No man

my examination with candour. Here is the very point for the formation of honest or dishonest purpose. Here is the hinge on which turns the question of my acceptance or rejection of the claims presented. Perhaps I may decide to obey the direction of duty, and if so, all will be well. ever put his trust in conscience to meet with eventual disappointment! Perhaps I may decide to set passion above conscience, and, exercising that power we all have of forming a dishonest resolution, refuse to view in clear light and with an open eye those claims which run so counter to my desires. The mind thus made up, my great objects thenceforward are, to seek for every excuse that can justify my purpose, to raise every possible presumption against the claims I am resolved to reject, to shut out from view every consideration that goes to confirm those claims,—in short, I most laboriously endeavour to deceive and ruin my own soul. How long can such a course be persisted in, a course which so tends to spoil all candour of thought and honesty of purpose,-how long can it be persisted in before the mind is filled with objections to that which the heart wishes to reject, and the intellect is very well satisfied that the heart is right. O the awful power of the will! We are sometimes told that we have no power over ourselves, that we are tossed upon every wave of outward influence that may chance to roll by us, and that we may as well submit passively to move in the direction in which any

accident may impel us. But simply passive beings we are not. Active we must be in our own exaltation or ruin. Everyone will perceive the tendency of these remarks to illustrate the manner in which we may treat the great question, Shall I receive, or shall I reject the Christian faith?

I have thus far spoken of one of the ways in which, under the general point I am endeavouring to illustrate, à dishonest will may appear in the examination of the evidences of Christianity. Such a will may appear in our putting out of view the direct testimony on which the truth of our religion rests, and testing the truth of this religion entirely by the character of its supposed influences, or of its formal professors. I have endeavoured also to describe the process by which disbelief is brought about under the influence of principles which, at first, we know to be false.

Let us now for a moment waive all that we have said on the first topic, and admit it to be right that the truth of Christianity should be made to depend upon the character of its supposed results. Even on this supposition, there is, in the examination of the claims of Christianity, yet another case of dishonesty which calls for illustration. We maintain that a dishonest will may appear in charging upon Christianity evil results of which she is not the source. Our religion was intended and adapted to act with great power upon the human soul, to pierce into its most secret depths, to become woven into its very texture. As it did in fact seize with a strong grasp on the human soul, it became at length closely united with all human interests and institutions. But these human interests and institutions were not completely and suddenly sanctified by the influence of Christianity,—and what wonder that in the ceaseless commotion of these interests, and in the progress of these institutions, evils should result similar to those of which the world had already had bitter experience? Now is it logical or honest to ascribe to every influence that has blended itself with these institutions and interests a portion of all the evil results that have flowed from their ever-changing action? Let such reasoning be universally adopted, and where would it lead us? In thousands of cases the very thing, whose influence it would prove injurious, has done much to mitigate evil consequences which could not be entirely prevented. It would prove a man to be partaker in the crime whose commission he had used all his power of sympathy and persuasion to prevent. As well might Howard be classed with the wretched inmates of the prisons he visited,

as Christianity be confounded with the evil influences which have surrounded her since she came into the world. The argument, that Christianity is an immense evil simply because it has been connected with immense evils in the history of our race, amounts to this, that Christianity has had a bad influence because it has been unable to sanctify the world in a moment. We should be ashamed thus to urge an idea whose opposite is so manifestly absurd did not much of the infidel's logic against Christianity require it. Besides, our religion is so interwoven with the miseries of the human race that we can easily conceive with what readiness a dishonest will would affirm that it has produced those miseries.

We shall conclude our present remarks by considering more particularly one of the pretences which the infidel sets forth relative to the point of which we have been speaking.

It is maintained by the infidel that the Christian religion has stopped the progress of the human race, and kept back the soul from its perfection. Look then, we would say to the unbeliever, at the world as it was when Christ came, and compare it with the world as it is now. Or make the comparison between different portions of the human race in its present condition. Compare Heathendom with Christendom. Can you honestly say that the world received a downward impulse at the advent of Christ, and has ever since been on the decline? Or do you really believe that man's nature is realizing its perfection in the bosom of the Asiatic continent, or on the desert of Zahara? But, you say, man has improved, not by the aid of Christianity, but in spite of the superstition which Christianity has fixed upon his soul. Is this assertion made from an ignorant mind or a dishonest heart? Look again at the human race, as it was when Christ came to it with the message of the Father's love, and look at that monster superstition, which, as you pretend, was brought into the world by Christianity, and which, from the infusions of Christianity has received its deadly strength and poisonous venom. What, in a religious point of view, were the elements which Christianity, at its first introduction, found already at work in the human mind? Did she find men in their own eyes, a race of mere animal beings, contented with a pure sensual philosophy, troubled with no superstitious fancies, looking upon nature as the great All in All, not even dreaming of a Maker and Ruler of the Universe, or of the reality of a spiritual power and excellence beyond the reach of their bodily vision? Precisely the contrary of all this. Is it pos