There is no topick more the favourite of the present age, than the innocence of errour accompanied with sincerity. This doctrine has been cultivated with the utmost diligence, enforced with all the arts of argument, and embellished with all the ornaments of eloquence, but perhaps not bounded with equal care, by proper limitations, nor preserved by just explication, from being a snare to pride, and a stumbling block to weakness.
That the Judge of all the earth will do right, that he will require in proportion to what he has given, and punish men for the misapplication or neglect of talents, not for the want of them; that he condemns no man for not seeing what he has hid from him, or for not attending to what he could never hear; seems to be the necessary, the inevitable consequence of his own attributes.
That errour, therefore, may be innocent will not be denied, because it undoubtedly may be sincere; but this concession will give very little countenance to the security and supineness, the coldness and indifference of the present generation, if we consider deliberately, how much is required to constitute that sincerity, which shall avert the wrath of God, and reconcile him to errour.
Sincerity is not barely a full persuasion of the truth of our assertions, a persuasion too often grounded upon a high opinion of our own sagacity, and confirmed, perhaps, by frequent triumphs over weak opponents, continually gaining new strength by a neglect of reexamination, which, perhaps, we decline, by industriously diverting our attention from any objections that arise in our thoughts, and suppressing any suspicion of a fallacy, before the mind has time to connect its ideas, to form arguments, and draw conclusions. Sincerity is not a heat of the heart, kept up by eager contentions or warm professions, nor a tranquillity produced by confidence, and continued by indolence. There may be zeal without sincerity, and security without innocence. If we forbear to inquire through laziness or pride, or inquire with partiality, passion, precipitancy; if we do not watch over the most hidden motions
