and
when once they get out of the Church into the outside world, no wonder
if they make shipwreck both of faith, and of a good conscience.

And so it is continually. Our views of men's characters, talents,
sentiments, are always more or less influenced by our feelings and
affections. If we like a man very much, we look on his views in the most
favorable light, and are glad to see anything like a reason for adopting
them ourselves. We give his words and deeds the most favorable
interpretation, and we rate his gifts and graces above their real value.
On the other hand, if we dislike a man,--if we are led to regard him as
an enemy, and to harbor feelings of resentment towards him, we look on
what he says and does with distrust; we suspect his motives; we
under-rate his talents, and are pleased to have an excuse for differing
from him in opinion.

We see proofs of this power of feeling and affection over the judgment
on every hand. The mother of that ordinary-looking and troublesome child
thinks it the most beautiful and engaging little creature under heaven;
while she wonders how people can have patience with her neighbor's
child, which, in truth, is quite a cherub or an angel compared with
her's. You know how it is with natural light. You sit inside an ancient
cathedral, and the light from the bright shining sun streams in through
the painted windows. Outside the cathedral the light is all pure white;
but inside, as it falls upon the pulpit, the pillars, the pews and the
people, it is purple, orange, violet, blue, red, or green, according to
the color of the glass through which it passes. It is the same with
moral or spiritual light; it takes the tint or hue of the painted
windows of our passions and prejudices, our likes and dislikes, through
which it enters our minds. The light that finds its way into men's
minds, says Bacon, is never pure, white light; but light colored by the
medium through which it passes. Look where we will, whether into books
or into the living world, we see differences of opinion on men and
things that can be accounted for on no other principle than that the
judgments of people are influenced by their passions and feelings, their
prejudices and interests. The Royalists looked on Cromwell through
spectacles of hate and vengeance, and saw a monster of hypocrisy and
blood. The Puritans looked at him through spectacles of revolutionary
fanaticism, and saw a glorious saint and hero. The clergy looked