Faith does appear, at first sight, a source of intolerance.  The man who believes, reckons himself in possession of the right in regard to truth, and to God; he has nothing to respect in error.  Thus it is that belief naturally engenders persecution.  This reasoning is specious, all the more as it is supported by numerous and terrible examples; but let us look at things more closely.  Place yourselves face to face with any one of your convictions, no matter which; I hope there is no one of you so unfortunate as not to have any.  Suppose that it were desired to impose upon you by force even the conviction which you have.  Suppose that an officer of police came to say to you, pronouncing at the same time the words which best expressed your own thoughts:  “you are commanded so to believe.”  What would happen?  If you had never had a doubt of your faith, you would be tempted to doubt it, the moment any human power presumed to impose it upon you.  The feeling of oppression would produce in your conscience a strong inclination to revolt.  Let us analyze this feeling.  You feel that it is words, not convictions, which are imposed by force; you feel that declarations extorted by fear from lying lips are an outrage to truth.  You feel, in a word, that your belief is the right of God over you, and not the right of your neighbor.  Men respect God’s right over the souls of their fellow-men, in proportion as they are intelligent in their own faith.  The fanaticism which would impose words by force is not an ardent but a blind faith.  In order to bring it back into the paths of liberty, it is enough to restore to it its sight.

The establishment of the Christian religion furnishes a great example in support of our thesis.  The Christians, when persecuted by the empire, had never allowed themselves to reply to the violence of power by the violence of rebellion.  There came, however, and soon enough, a time when they were sufficiently numerous to defend themselves, and had withal the consciousness of their strength; but they had no will to conquer the world, except by the arms of martyrdom, and heroism, and obedience.  This was not the case during a few years only, it is the history of three centuries, an ever-memorable page of human annals, in which all ages will be able to learn what are the true weapons of truth.  Christendom, too often forgetful of its origin, has in later times allowed the fury of persecution to cloak itself under a pretended regard for sacred interests; but the remedy has proceeded from the very evil.  The Christian conscience has protested, in the name of the Gospel, against the crimes of which the Gospel was the pretext, and the passions of men the cause.  “We must bewail the misery and error of our time,” already St. Hilary was exclaiming, in the fourth century.  “Men are thinking that God has need of the protection of men....  The Church is uttering threats of banishment and imprisonment, and desiring to compel belief by force,—­the Church, which itself acquired strength in exile and in prisons!”