"
"You think and feel in a region distinct from the body," said Mr.
Wilkins.
"I can't say as to that."
"You can think of justice, of equity, of liberty?"
"Yes."
"As abstract rights; as things essential, and out of the region of
simple matter. The body doesn't think; it is the soul."
"Very well. For argument's sake, let all this be granted. I don't
wish to cavil. I am in no mood for that. And now, as to the ground
of your faith in God."
"Convictions," answered Mr. Wilkins, "are real things to a man.
Impressions are one thing; convictions another. The first are like
images on a glass; the others like figures in a textile fabric. The
first are made in an instant of time, and often pass as quickly; the
latter are slowly wrought in the loom of life, through daily
experience and careful thought. Herein lies the ground of my faith
in God;--it is an inwrought conviction. First I had the child's
sweet faith transfused into my soul with a mother's love, and
unshadowed by a single doubt. Then, on growing older, as I read the
Bible, which I believe to be God's word, I saw that its precepts
were divine, and so the child's faith was succeeded by rational
sight. Afterwards, as I floated off into the world, and met with
storms that wrecked my fondest hopes; with baffling winds and
adverse currents; with perils and disappointments, faith wavered
sometimes; and sometimes, when the skies were dark and threatening,
my mind gave way to doubts.
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