MY DEAR MOTHER,
The mail arrived here only two or three days ago, being nearly
a fortnight behind time. I have received your letter of the 13th of
April, and one from Bessy. Your endeavours to show that my remarks
on religion were wrong, have tended to convince me more clearly
that I was right, and that you, partially at least, misunderstood
what I said. I did not charge you with being openly uncharitable or
of plainly condemning any one; nor do I blame you for believing you
are right. We all think we are right, or we should not believe as
we do. But I do blame those who pronounce everybody wrong but
themselves; for as far as we can judge, one may be as near the
truth as another. How often we hear VERY religious people,
compassionately remarking upon a neighbour's death: "Ah, poor dear
fellow, he was such a good sort of man! I hope and trust he died in
the faith!" meaning, of course, their own peculiar tenets, and
obliquely implying that, in spite of all his estimable qualities,
they have great doubts of his salvation. For my part, I consider
this as bad as the outspoken uncharitableness of bigots and
persecutors in the olden days.
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