I shall not，I hope，be suspected of any desire to prophesy too smooth things. It is no object of ours to bridge over the gulf between belief in the vulgar theology and disbelief. Nor for a single moment do we pretend that，when all the points of contact between virtuous belief and virtuous disbelief are made the most of that good faith will allow，there will not still and after all remain a terrible controversy between those who cling passionately to all the consolations，mysteries，personalities，of the orthodox faith，and us who have made up our minds to face the worst，and to shape，as best we can，a life in which the cardinal verities of the common creed shall have no place. The future faith，like the faith of the past，brings not peace but a sword. It is a tale not of concord，but of households divided against themselves. Those who are incessantly striving to make the old bottles hold the new wine，to reconcile the irreconcilable，to bring the Bible and the dogmas of the churches to be good friends with history and criticism，are prompted by the humanest intention.[4] One sympathises with this amiable anxiety to soften shocks，and break the rudeness of a vital transition. In this essay，at any rate，there is no such attempt. We know that it is the son against the father，and the mother-in-law against the daughter-in-law. No softness of speech will disguise the portentous differences between those who admit a supernatural revelation and those who deny it. No charity nor goodwill can narrow the intellectual breach between those who declare that a world without an ever-present Creator with intelligible attributes would be to them empty and void，and those who insist that none of the attributes of a Creator can ever be grasped by the finite intelligence of men.[5] Our object in urging the historic，semi-conservative，and almost sympathetic quality，which distinguishes the unbelief of today from the unbelief of a hundred years ago，is only to show that the most strenuous and upright of plain-speakers is less likely to shock and wound the lawful sensibilities of devout persons than he would have been so long as unbelief went no further than bitter attack on small details. In short，all save the purely negative and purely destructive school of freethinkers，are now able to deal with the beliefs from which they dissent，in a way which makes patient and disinterested controversy not wholly impossible.
One more point of much importance ought to be mentioned. The belief that heresy is the result of wilful depravity is fast dying out. People no longer seriously think that speculative error is bound up with moral iniquity，or that mistaken thinking is either the result or the cause of wicked living. Even the official mouthpieces of established beliefs now usually represent a bad heart as only one among other possible causes of unbelief. It divides the curse with ignorance，intellectual shallowness，the unfortunate influence of plausible heresiarchs，and other alternative roots of evil. They thus leave a way of escape，by which the person who does not share their own convictions may still be credited with a good moral character. Some persons，it is true，'cannot see how a man who deliberately rejects the Roman Catholic religion can，in the eyes of those who earnestly believe it，be other than a rebel against God.' They assure us that，'as opinions become better marked and more distinctly connected with action，the truth that decided dissent from them implies more or less of a reproach upon those who hold them decidedly，becomes so obvious that every one perceives it.' No doubt a protestant or a sceptic regards the beliefs of a catholic as a reproach upon the believer's understanding. So the man whose whole faith rests on the miraculous and on acts of special intervention，regards the strictly positive and scientific thinker as the dupe of a crude and narrow logic. But this now carries with it no implication of moral obliquity. De Maistre's rather grotesque conviction that infidels always die of horrible diseases with special names，could now only be held among the very dregs of the ecclesiastical world.
Nor is it correct to say that 'when religious differences come to be，and are regarded as，mere differences of opinion，it is because the controversy is really decided in the sceptical sense.' Those who agree with the present writer，for example，are not sceptics. They positively，absolutely，and without reserve，reject as false the whole system of objective propositions which make up the popular belief of the day，in one and all of its theological expressions. They look upon that system as mischievous in its consequences to society，for many reasons,—among others because it tends to divert and misdirect the most energetic faculties of human nature. This，however，does not make them suspect the motives or the habitual morality of those who remain in the creed in which they were nurtured. The difference is a difference of opinion，as purely as if we refused to accept the undulatory theory of light; and we treat it as such. Then reverse this. Why is it any more impossible for those who remain in the theological stage，who are not in the smallest degree sceptical，who in their heart of hearts embrace without a shadow of misgiving all the mysteries of the faith，why is it any more impossible for them than for us，whose convictions are as strong as theirs，to treat the most radical dissidence as that and nothing other or worse? Logically，it perhaps might not be hard to convict them of inconsistency，but then，as has been so often said，inconsistency is a totally different thing from insincerity，or doubting adherence，or silent scepticism. The beliefs of an ordinary man are a complex structure of very subtle materials，all compacted into a whole，not by logic，but by lack of logic; not by syllogism or sorites，but by the vague.
As a plain matter of fact and observation，we may all perceive that dissent from religious opinion less and less implies reproach in any serious sense. We all of us know in the flesh liberal catholics and latitudinarian protestants，who hold the very considerable number of beliefs that remain to them，quite as firmly and undoubtingly as believers who are neither liberal nor latitudinarian. The compatibility of error in faith with virtue in conduct is to them only a mystery the more，a branch of the insoluble problem of Evil，permitted by a Being at once all-powerful and all-benevolent. Stringent logic may make short work of either fact,—a benevolent author of evil，or a virtuous despiser of divine truth. But in an atmosphere of mystery，logical contradictions melt away. Faith gives a sanction to that tolerant and charitable judgment of the character of heretics，which has its real springs partly in common human sympathy whereby we are all bound to one another，and partly in experience，which teaches us that practical righteousness and speculative orthodoxy do not always have their roots in the same soil. The world is every day growing larger. The range of the facts of the human race is being enormously extended by naturalists，by historians，by philologists，by travellers，by critics. The manifold past experiences of humanity are daily opening out to us in vaster and at the same time more ordered proportions. And so even those who hold fast to Christianity as the noblest，strongest，and only final conclusion of these experiences，are yet constrained to admit that it is no more than a single term in a very long and intricate series.
The object of the foregoing digression is to show some cause for thinking that dissent from the current beliefs is less and less likely to inflict upon those who retain them any very intolerable kind or degree of mental pain. Therefore it is in so far all the plainer，as well as easier，a duty not to conceal such dissent. What we have been saying comes to this. If a believer finds that his son，for instance，has ceased to believe，he no longer has this disbelief thrust upon him in gross and irreverent forms. Nor does he any longer suppose that the unbelieving son must necessarily be a profligate. And moreover，in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred，he no longer supposes that infidels，of his own family or acquaintance at any rate，will consume for eternal ages in lakes of burning marl.
Let us add another consideration. One reason why so many persons are really shocked and pained by the avowal of heretical opinions is the very fact that such avowal is uncommon. If unbelievers and doubters were more courageous，believers would be less timorous. It is because they live in an enervating fool's paradise of seeming assent and conformity，that the breath of an honest and outspoken word strikes so eager and nipping on their sensibilities. If they were not encouraged to suppose that all the world is of their own mind，if they were forced out of that atmosphere of self-indulgent silences and hypocritical reserves，which is systematically poured round them，they would acquire a robuster mental habit. They would learn to take dissents for what they are worth. They would be led either to strengthen or to discard their own opinions，if the dissents happened to be weighty or instructive; either to refute or neglect such dissents as should be ill-founded or insignificant. They will remain valetudinarians，so long as a curtain of compromise shelters them from the real belief of those of their neighbours who have ventured to use their minds with some measure of independence. A very brief contact with people who，when the occasion comes，do not shrink from saying what they think，is enough to modify that excessive liability to be shocked at truth-speaking，which is only so common because truth-speaking itself is so unfamiliar.
Now，however great the pain inflicted by the avowal of unbelief，it seems to the present writer that one relationship in life，and one only，justifies us in being silent where otherwise it would be right to speak. This relationship is that between child and parents. Those parents are wisest who train their sons and daughters in the utmost liberty both of thought and speech; who do not instill dogmas into them，but inculcate upon them the sovereign importance of correct ways of forming opinions; who，while never dissembling the great fact that if one opinion is true，its contradictory cannot be true also，but must be a lie and must partake of all the evil qualities of a lie，yet always set them the example of listening to unwelcome opinions with patience and candour. Still all parents are not wise. They cannot all endure to hear of any religious opinions except their own. Where it would give them sincere and deep pain to hear a son or daughter avow disbelief in the inspiration of the Bible and so forth，then it seems that the younger person is warranted in refraining from saying that he or she does not accept such and such doctrines. This，of course，only where the son or daughter feels a tender and genuine attachment to the parent. Where the parent has not earned this attachment，has been selfish，indifferent，or cruel，the title to the special kind of forbearance of which we are speaking can hardly exist. In an ordinary way，however，a parent has a claim on us which no other person in the world can have，and a man's self-respect ought scarcely to be injured if he finds himself shrinking from playing the apostle to his own father and mother.
One can indeed imagine circumstances where this would not be true. If you are persuaded that you have had revealed to you a glorious gospel of light and blessedness，it is impossible not to thirst to impart such tidings most eagerly to those who are closest about your heart. We are not in that position. We have as yet no magnificent vision，so definite，so touching，so 'clothed with the beauty of a thousand stars,' as to make us eager，for the sake of it，to murder all the sweetnesses of filial piety in an aggressive eristic. This much one concedes. Yet let us ever remember that those elders are of nobler type who have kept their minds in a generous freedom，and have made themselves strong with that magnanimous confidence in truth，which the Hebrew expressed in old phrase，that if counsel or work be of men it will come to nought，but if it be of God ye cannot overthrow it.
Even in the case of parents，and even though our new creed is but rudimentary，there can be no good reason why we should go further in the way of economy than mere silence. Neither they nor any other human being can possibly have a right to expect us，not merely to abstain from the open expression of dissents，but positively to profess unreal and feigned assents. No fear of giving pain，no wish to soothe the alarms of those to whom we owe much，no respect for the natural clinging of the old to the faith which has accompanied them through honourable lives，can warrant us in saying that we believe to be true what we are convinced is false. The most lax moralist counts a lie wrong，even when the motive is unselfish，and springs from the desire to give pleasure to those whom it is our duty to please. A deliberate lie avowedly does not cease to be one because it concerns spiritual things. Nor is it the less wrong because it is uttered by one to whom all spiritual things have become indifferent. Filial affection is a motive which would，if any motive could，remove some of the taint of meanness with which pious lying，like every other kind of lying，tends to infect character. The motive may no doubt ennoble the act，though the act remains in the category of forbidden things. But the motive of these complaisant assents and false affirmations，taken at their very best，is still comparatively a poor motive. No real elevation of spirit is possible for a man who is willing to subordinate his convictions to his domestic affections，and to bring himself to a habit of viewing falsehood lightly，lest the truth should shock the illegitimate and over-exacting sensibilities either of his parents or any one else. We may understand what is meant by the logic of the feelings，and accept it as the proper corrective for a too intense egoism. But when the logic of the feelings is invoked to substitute the egoism of the family for the slightly narrower egoism of the individual，it can hardly be more than a fine name for self-indulgence and a callous indifference to all the largest human interests.
This brings us to consider the case of another no less momentous relationship，and the kind of compromise in the matter of religious conformity which it justifies or imposes. It constantly happens that the husband has wholly ceased to believe the religion to which his wife clings with unshaken faith. We need not enter into the causes why women remain in bondage to opinions which so many cultivated men either reject or else hold in a transcendental and non-natural sense. The only question with which we are concerned is the amount of free assertion of his own convictions which a man should claim and practise，when he knows that such convictions are distasteful to his wife. Is it lawful，as it seems to be in dealing with parents，to hold his conviction silently? Is it lawful either positively or by implication to lead his wife to suppose that he shares her opinions，when in truth he rejects them?
