"
It had conquered my heart. It had won my love. And I would gladly have
died, or would gladly have lived through ages of hardship and toil, to
be satisfied of its divinity. How glad I was when I found men heartily
believing it. How sad when I found them doubting, like myself. How
delighted I was when I found my objections to its truth slowly fading
away, and saw facts in its favor coming gradually into view.
But doubt had become a powerful tyrant, and I had become a slave; and
though I _wished_ I could be a Christian, I could indulge no hope of
ever experiencing so great a happiness. But I would do Christianity
justice, to the best of my ability. I would exhibit its excellencies. I
would defend it against false accusations. I would preach it so far as I
honestly could. I would practise its precepts so far as I was able. I
would cherish its spirit. "If it is not from God," said I, "it is the
best production of the mind of man. If I cannot hold it forth as a
divine revelation, I can extol it as the perfection of human wisdom. And
some of its teachings are evidently true, and others are easily proved
to be so. It is true throughout, so far as I can test it; and it may be
true--perhaps I shall some day find it to be true--on points on which I
am unable to test it at present.
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