Responsibility for Belief.
By G. H. Ide
It was a saying of Demosthenes that every speech should begin with an incontrovertible proposition. This was the reason, possibly, why Robert G. Ingersoll, a few Sabbaths ago, in Chicago, opened his address with what he assumed to be an indisputable proposition. As reported in the Times, his first words were, "Nothing can be more certain than that no human being can, by any possibility, control his thought. We are in this world; we see, we hear, we taste. Every thing in nature makes an impression on the brain, and that wonderful something weaves what we call thought. And the brain can no more help thinking than the heart can help beating. This being true, no human being can be held responsible for his thought." This is axiomatic according to the champion of infidelity. But if this is so plain that "a wayfaring man, though a fool, need not err," it seems a little strange that the orator should draw this sharp contrast at the close of his address. "Without love," he says, "we are less than beasts, but with it we are gods." Now, on the supposition that man cannot control his thought, it is very difficult to determine whether, on the whole, it would be better to be a beast or a god. Certainly, the god deserves no credit for being a god, neither does the beast deserve any blame for being a beast. Since men, as beasts or gods, are not responsible for their thought, why should one be set above the other, and called by a different name, as though either could help being what he is. How much value is such a distinction if man has not power to control his thought? This theory, without doubt, has been a great comfort to Col. Ingersoll during the last few months, in his connection with the Star Route thieves. He could not control his thought, and that is why he was found defending official depravity. The poor man's brain got to weaving thought, and it happened to turn out a fabric that was admirably adapted to clothe his clients with immunity from the penalty of the law. It seems almost paradoxical that the shuttle of his brain did not change its movement during the long trial, and for a moment, at least, employ itself in weaving a little thought that respected honesty as well as fraud. Looking, then, at this statement, that man cannot control his thought, we find that it is tantamount to saying that he has not the power of attention. Hamilton, in his work on metaphysics, says, that the difference between an ordinary and an extraordinary man is this: the one is capable of the application of a more continuous attention than another; both have the power of controlling thought, but one to a greater degree than the other. Sir Isaac Newton, with his usual modesty when complimented on his genius, replied that if he had made any discoveries it was owing more to patient attention than any other talent. Bacon claimed that men differed from one another only in the power of attention. Paul, in his second letter to the Corinthians, speaks of "bringing into captivity every thought to the obedience of Christ." The most commonplace fact in experience is, that men can and do control their thought. Every parent who sends his child to school indicates thereby that he believes that thought can be directed and controlled. If a child cannot control his thought, why command him to study arithmetic and grammar, and give him the birch if he turns away from his tasks? Since, then, we can control thought, we are responsible for it—not responsible for having thought, but for the kind of thought we have. In connection with responsibility for thought, comes responsibility of belief. For what is belief? It is the practical conclusion of our thought. No one has a belief concerning any subject about which he has had no thought. We are responsible for what we think; so we are responsible for the results of our thinking, which are beliefs. But right here we meet with the current proverb that "it makes no difference what a man believes." "One belief is as good as another." But this is like saying, It is a good time to plant, but it makes no difference what the crop is. Belief is the harvest of our thought, and if there is any part of our life that needs to be correct, it is our belief. There is a farmer who declares that it makes no difference what a man believes. As he has no wheat to sow in his fields he decides to put in sawdust. "I believe in sawdust," he says. How much does that belief help him when the snow comes and his children are crying for bread? He discovers at last that in order to be saved from starvation he must believe in wheat, not in sawdust. We fall in with a man who is about to engage in navigation. He affirms, with an air of confidence, that it makes no difference what a man believes. "I have my own ideas about sailing a vessel. I do not believe what the books say about it; I take no stock in charts and compasses; one belief is as good as another about navigation." What does that man find out at last? That the difference between one belief and another is the difference between shipwreck and safety. "I believe," says the merchant, "that goods made of dust and scrapings are just as well for my shelves as goods made of wool or cotton. I do not tie myself up to orthodox notions of trade. I take liberal views of commercial affairs." What is his conclusion finally? If a merchant believes a fool, right he prospers in business; if he believes wrong he fails. But it is urged in respect to physical truths, men must believe right to gain any desirable end, but this is not necessary in the realm of morals and religion. Suppose, then, some parent has inculcated in his family the doctrine that it makes no difference as to what a man believes in the sphere of morality. He returns to his home some evening after work, and finds his boy telling falsehoods. He proceeds to reprove him, but the boy turns to him and says, "Father it makes no difference what a man believes about morality. It is a convenient way of avoiding a difficulty sometimes." Ah! it does make no difference what a boy believes about lying? That father would rather cut off his right hand, or lose his right eye, than to have his child grow up confirmed in falsehood. What he wants his boy to believe is this, that falsehood is hateful, abominable, wicked. Let a school-master begin to teach that it makes no difference what a pupil believes about the right and wrong of conduct, honor and dishonor, purity and impurity, and no citizen of respectability would allow his child to remain under such teaching for a single day. Now, this saying that it makes no difference what a man believes, is so utterly false in all its lower applications, that the natural inference is forced upon us that it is unsound in any application that can be made of it. Down here where results can be counted and measured, we say of this doctrine that it is lame, impotent, and foolish. All the enlightenment that connects itself with the civilization of our day comes forth to condemn the dogma. For what purpose do men study political economy? That they may have a right belief about the government and traffic of nations. For what purpose do they pursue the study of geology? That they may have a right belief concerning the formation and structure of the earth. Why astronomy? That they might have a right belief about the sun, moon, and stars. But why are they so eager to have right beliefs concerning these things? Because they assume that it makes a difference what a man believes about them. In respect, then, to a theory that cannot live on earth, the question arises, Can it live any better above and beyond it? Can nonsense in one realm be wisdom in another? It makes a difference what people believe concerning religion. A wrong belief is just as dangerous and disastrous as anywhere else. Why is it? Because, "as a man thinketh so is he." The connection between belief and conduct is one of cause and effect. Conduct, generally speaking, will never rise any higher than belief. Hence a right belief is the only way to insure right conduct. Does it make no difference what a man believes concerning the future? Some one declares his creed by saying, "Death ends all; there is nothing beyond the grave." Is that person what he would be if he believed that he would live as long as God Almighty lives, forever and forever? Has he the aspirations and heroisms of the one who looks forward to a glorious immortality? Certainly not. Does it make no difference what men believe about God? Yes; the same difference that it makes whether he regards the judge on the bench as one who winks at crime, or one who is ready to rebuke and punish it. Every human being then is responsible for his belief—for what he believes determines his character, and what his character is, determines his relation to God and to eternity. —G. H. Ide, D. D., in Advance.