Washington, D. C., June, 1888.
THE LOST FAITH.
[LETTER I.]
My Dear C——: It is useless for you to write to me on the subject of your last letter. I appreciate your motives, but with me the question is settled. I have given up the beliefs of my childhood; they had long been a burden to me, and the writings and lectures of Mr. —— did the rest. Have you heard him? Can he be fairly answered? I am not, indeed, as confident as he is that there is no personal God, though I do not believe it can be proved, and I entirely agree with him in abhorring and rejecting the doctrine of future suffering. This was the horrible nightmare of my childhood, and you cannot conceive the relief that the rejection of the doctrine has given me. I am frank to say, from my own experience and that of others, that this is the point that gives Mr. —— his hold on so many. The doctrine of endless suffering for the sins of this life is abhorrent to them, and they welcome his views almost as a first truth of reason. This, at least, is my position. The existence of God cannot be proved, nor can any immortality for man except in the influence he may leave behind him. But a truce to this. Come to me soon if you are not afraid of my "infidelity," and let us live over the days of our boyhood. Most of the dear old friends are gone; we are nearly alone, and I am not inclined to drop the last links of brighter, and perhaps better, days than these now upon us. Yours, truly,
A——.
My Dear A——: Your letter has moved me deeply. Yes, we are almost alone. Of all the dear group that used to gather in the old school-house, and play upon the common, and stroll along the river-banks in summer and skate upon its solid surface in winter, you and I are nearly all that remain. The Southern sea has poor H——; W——, the leader of our sports, fell (under another name, I think) with Custer's band in the wild tragedy of Montana; B—— and S—— won their honors, and were buried with them, on the battlefield; K—— lives a wreck in mind and body. The rest are scattered. The old homes are all changed; the inmates are gone from them for ever.