When I was over from America once, I spent
some time in his company, and we had frequent conversations on religion.
"It seems to me," said he, "that we ought to put some trust in our
_hearts_. My head has often tempted me to doubt; but my heart has always
clung to God and immortality. It does so still; and I believe it is
right. Indeed, I have no doubt of it." I remembered his words. They led
me to study the moral and spiritual instincts of my nature more
thoroughly than I had done before. They led me to study the subject of
instinct and natural affection generally. _My_ instincts, like the
instincts of my friend, had always clung to God and a future life, and
to the principles of religion and virtue, even when reason hesitated and
doubted most. I had never given up my belief in any of the great
doctrines of Christianity without a painful struggle. But I had been led
to think it my duty, when there was a conflict between my head and my
heart, to take part with my head. My heart, for instance, would say,
"Pray;" but reason, or something in the garb of reason, would say,
"Don't. If what you desire is good, God will give it you, whether you
pray for it or not; and if it be evil, He will withhold it, pray as you
may. Prayer may move a man like yourself; but it cannot move God.
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