e eyes of pure intelligence, an ill-grounded hasty
rejection be not a greater sign of weakness than an ill-grounded and
hasty faith.

I will quote, as my best plea, the saying of a man old in years, but not
in heart, and whose long life has been distinguished by that clear
adaptation of means to ends which gives the credit of practical wisdom.
He wrote to his child, "I have lived too long, and seen too much to be
incredulous." Noble the thought, no less so its frank expression,
instead of saws of caution, mean advices, and other modern instances.
Such was the romance of Socrates when he bade his disciples "sacrifice a
cock to Aesculapius."

_Old Church_. You are always so quick-witted and voluble, Free Hope, you
don't get time to see how often you err, and even, perhaps, sin and
blaspheme. The Author of all has intended to confine our knowledge
within certain boundaries, has given us a short span of time for a
certain probation, for which our faculties are adapted. By wild
speculation and intemperate curiosity we violate his will and incur
dangerous, perhaps fatal, consequences. We waste our powers, and,
becoming morbid and visionary, are unfitted to obey positive precepts,
and perform positive duties.

_Free Hope_. I do not see how it is possible to go further beyond the
results of a limited human experience than those do who pretend to
settle the origin and nature of sin, the final destiny of souls, and the
whole plan of the causal spirit with regard to them. I think those who
take your view, have not examined themselves, and do not know the ground
on which they stand.

I acknowledge no limit, set up by man's opinion, as to the capacities
of man. "Care is taken," I see it, "that the trees grow not up into
heaven," but, to me it seems, the more vigorously they aspire the
better. Only let it be a vigorous, not a partial or sickly aspiration.
Let not the tree forget its root.

So long as the child insists on knowing where its dead parent is, so
long as bright eyes weep at mysterious pressures, too heavy for the
life, so long as that impulse is constantly arising which made the Roman
emperor address his soul in a strain of such touching softness,
vanishing from the thought, as the column of smoke from the eye, I know
of no inquiry which the impulse of man suggests that is forbidden to the
resolution of man to pursue. In every inquiry, unless sustained by a
pure and reverent spirit, he gropes in the dark, or falls he