hostile to
Christianity when it ceased to be pursued merely as an instrument of
controversy--when facts came to be acknowledged, no longer because they
were useful, but simply because they were true. Religion had no occasion
to rectify the results of learning when irreligion had ceased to pervert
them, and the old weapons of controversy became repulsive as soon as
they had ceased to be useful.

By this means the authority of political right and of scientific truth
has been re-established, and they have become, not tools to be used by
religion for her own interests, but conditions which she must observe in
her actions and arguments. Within their respective spheres, politics can
determine what rights are just, science what truths are certain. There
are few political or scientific problems which affect the doctrines of
religion, and none of them are hostile to it in their solution. But this
is not the difficulty which is usually felt. A political principle or a
scientific discovery is more commonly judged, not by its relation to
religious truth, but by its bearings on some manifest or probable
religious interests. A fact may be true, or a law may be just, and yet
it may, under certain conditions, involve some spiritual loss.

And here is the touchstone and the watershed of principles. Some men
argue that the object of government is to contribute to the salvation of
souls; that certain measures may imperil this end, and that therefore
they must be condemned. These men only look to interests; they cannot
conceive the duty of sacrificing them to independent political principle
or idea. Or, again, they will say, "Here is a scientific discovery
calculated to overthrow many traditionary ideas, to undo a prevailing
system of theology, to disprove a current interpretation, to cast
discredit on eminent authorities, to compel men to revise their most
settled opinions, to disturb the foundation on which the faith of others
stands." These are sufficient reasons for care in the dispensation of
truth; but the men we are describing will go on to say, "This is enough
to throw suspicion on the discovery itself; even if it is true, its
danger is greater than its value. Let it, therefore, be carefully
buried, and let all traces of it be swept away."

A policy like this appears to us both wrong in itself and derogatory to
the cause it is employed to serve. It argues either a timid faith which
fears the light, or a false morality which would