I received a letter from you coming by way of “Guilford Sachem’s Head” and Hartford, last week, in which like a good humored savage you raked me and particularly my amiable but unfortunate brother for transgressing your right angled laws of friendship. Well, as long as there are circumstances in the events of the world, or digestion in my body, or variations in the humours of my mind, I shall hold out an outlaw. So don’t be inclement.

There is not much room for argument in regard to the metaphysics of your letter, as your positions are matters of opinion which reasoning has little to do with. Still the drift of some of it I must protest against. I think, Charley, I never knew the man that had graduated at a Theological Seminary that showed ordinary charity in his heart. I do believe it is harder for an editor and a clergyman to enter the kingdom than for a rich man. This was an observation independent and had no connection with your letter. So don’t feel bad.

I believe it was suggested, however, or followed the groan I gave on [314]noticing how much importance you do in your heart attach to matters of belief—questionable matters which can not be decided in this world and which I think it is right down wicked—absurd—filthy to look upon and act upon as absolutely decided. “Doing,” and “settling” on questions of “Belief—you write on the same line—as of equal importance—and the amount accomplished of each (acts and opinions) (doing good and thinking not good, but some way, decidedly, not acting decidedly) you speak of as companion labors in the work you have to do—as equally progressing you towards the object of your existence.

Now I thank God, Charley, you are not settled yet, not absolutely pinned down to any or but comparatively few Theological dogmas—(I hope politica too.) May this unsatisfactory state that you weep and mourn about so much—in God’s name—bother, fret, and spur you till you are perfected in the fullness of light. For just as soon as you reach the state I must infer from your letter you pray for, it will be perfectly impossible for you practically to have charity for those that differ from you. And I believe that one spark of charity is of more value than all the results settlings, of all the study, the light (or Grace of Belief), the candid beginning of Investigation (for candor can not progress with growing opinion) of Drs. Taylor, Edwards, Luther, Calvin (whose opinions have been a terrible curse), the Holy Fathers, or the Apostles to the Hebrews & Gentiles. Without the Charity and Love they preached and which made them preach, they would stand a poor chance to be saved. Without half their opinions, in my opinion, they would have borne more sweet fruit and less bitter, sickening, cursed high taxes on Goodness.

(Except the absurdities I have written—one or two back there.) Why the devils themselves (if there are any) believe and tremble, but what good does it do ’em? Why don’t they accomplish more good? How much satisfaction it must be to Beelzebub to reflect “how much he has settled upon in belief.” “Life is hurrying away and how much have I done or settled upon in Belief?” That’s what you say.

Take all the Commandments God has given through the Scripture and through the natural impulses of your heart, as far as they agree with conscience or reason. Can not you perform them without being firmly settled on the damnation of infants—or the salvation of infants, if you believe God’s mercy is consistent with both? And if you don’t, is not the belief in God’s mercy a vast deal the most important of the two—more important than settling on authenticity of the passages from which you might draw the arguments against it?

What in the world do you want? Pure Religion, don’t you—to save you—and that is “to visit & relieve the widows and fatherless.” It “is before God”. Now can you not do that without believing in“what you do not understand,” as your ridiculous conscience tells you you ought to, and makes you half miserable for not doing.

[315]

You ask—and I think it is the very damndest piece of unbelief even you ever started—whether, if you are “investigating honestly,” [the] Just and Merciful Father “will forgive” your “mistakes?” Why, what blasphemy! What would your earthly father do? And who was it said “Forgive them, for they know not what they do?” Is it not a good reason? And we believe that He shall come to be our Judge.

Now is your belief more culpable than that which led those men to the acts which seemed to need forgiveness? How any man can believe that Jesus Christ is one with the Father and yet be settle in his belief of eternal punishment to those who do—they know not what—does puzzle me as much as the Trinity itself. God has given me the Bible but I should never know it to be His word if he had not given me Reason to judge it by. And my Reason—it condemns a good deal of it. The Bible is not consistent with itself. Well, I do not believe the Bible to be the Word of God.

I have tried hard to believe the Bible, but I’ll be hanged if I can. That is, I am not settled on it, and I never expect to be in this world. What earthly (or other) motive you can imagine yourself to have for being dishonest I can not imagine. Really, are you not splitting hairs?

You say you don’t know as I can help not settling on points of belief. I can (practically) but not without, Pharoah-like, hardening my heart. You must conclude when you are settled, that everyone who differs is wrong; and in consequence that their salvation is doubtful. Now, what rule have we to judge men by, but their fruits?

A Bishop of the Church of England lately preached a sermon on the death of a man that had never been baptized, never communed, and that differed in creed most essentially from the xxxix Articles. (What a fence about truth xxxix makes.) “Can we doubt” (said he) “that he was in danger whose whole life was an unwearied comment on evangelical Christianity? To give a moment’s heed would be a libel on Christianity itself.” His life was his preparation. In death he gave no sign. His life was the sign & seal. And can you not find scores of Christians—as Orthodox in belief as the Devil himself, for all you know—whose life is anything but a sign of their Heavenlymindedness? And can you find the man whose actions tell, speak, a heart of Love—who imitates Christ in mercy, who is eloquent against tyranny & vice, yet charitable to the vicious even, whom you can feel God will not be merciful to? I had for my part rather be in Horace Greeley’s shoes, an Infidel as your schoolmen call him, than in Dr. Bacon’s or Dr. Taylor’s.

You ask if it is possible for a man to have true Repentance, without that knowledge of his sin which can only be obtained by a knowledge of the Infinite Sacrifice which was necessary to wash his guilt away. I do not believe that I ever had that knowledge (in your sense) and I do believe that I am a Christian. This can not be argued upon (this necessity). I believe that God did appear in the world as Christ: that as God, with His power and goodness, [316]and as man with his weakness—his temptation to use the Power to punish those who injured him (or sinned) and man’s capability of suffering, he came for the salvation (from temporal, perhaps eternal misery) of His children. Here He displayed His Infinite Goodness, which the natural man was incapable of trusting without, whilst He showed us the Height of excellence and triumph over Human failings we might strive to attain, in the forgiveness of His enemies. He led us to worship such goodness (and thus presented us with a true God to worship). To Love such Goodness and to Love Him—consequently to hate sin—to hate ourselves. Not to worship Happiness. To worship Goodness. Not to love our depraved selves. To love God and the God-like in ourselves.

So as a lamb that suffered for the sins of men, He poured out his blood freely and gladly that we might see and believe that no atonement was necessary to reach His Mercy: that we might have Faith in His Infinite Goodness, Mercy, and through this Faith we might be led to Love Him. Worship Him. Strive to be like Him. Strive for a new life. More! Knowing the frailty of our fallen nature and the temptations that beset us; pitying us as a Father pitieth His children and as a Father ready to give good gifts to them that ask him, He has promised that to them that have this Faith—if they heartily believe (for if so they will heartily desire it) that He is so good and so ready to help them—He will quicken and renew in their hearts His holy spirit, that as new creatures in Christ they may hereafter live to Him & Goodness, not to Sin and themselves.

“God judgeth the heart.” It is not the past sin, but the present purpose which is a man’s heart.

I skipped this page accidentally. It comes after the next leaf.

When I say I don’t believe the Bible, of course I mean that I do not firmly, fixedly, settled-ly believe it: and I really rather think we can not depend on it, as a settling thing for all doctrine, for it does seem there is a good deal of man’s handiwork in it.

I ought to fill this page out with the French Revolution. But—as everybody else says, wait till the next steamer arrives. I think that scene in the Deputies, with those bold presaging words—the voice of Divine decree as it were—that low, calm voice, to be for the next twelve-months the nightmare of all tyrants—It is too late. I think it will stand as about the most impressive scene in History.

I wish I were that man. Jeremiah will stand no higher. It is too late. Hear it, fools. Hear it, slaves, and have Faith. Hear it, Nicholas! Hear it, Metternich! Hear it Irish landlords! Hear it Scotch lairds and English hunters. Hear it Slaveholding sons of America and prepare to meet—or avert—your fate. (Whoop!)

I wish I was a German now. I wouldn’t stay here long. I am going to join the European Revolutionary Vigilance Committee. Hurrah for a General [317]War—only a short one. I only wish now Henry Clay was President or Daniel Webster or any statesman. Only there is not any other. Oh, if I was a Pole now wouldn’t I! I’d open a recruiting office in five minutes. Give you the chaplaincy—Blackcoat.

I really revel in a Righteous War. As it is, I don’t see as you and I can do much but pray & praise—and burn tar barrels and hurrah. I mean to do that thing next week. I keep a bright look to Sandy Hook for the “Caledonia.” Horrid ship wreck wasn’t it? See you perhaps next week.