a man may
talk eternally and with a never-ending outpouring of words; and he
talked magnificently, about the Arabs for the most part, and tried to
prove that because the Arabs acknowledged their descent from Ishmael, or
Esau, therefore the Old Testament history was true. But the Arabs may
have had Esau for a father and yet the bears may not have eaten up the
little children for quizzing Elisha's bald head. As I was writing to
Carlyle last night (I haven't sent the letter as usual, and shall not
most likely), Saint Stephen was pelted to death by Old Testaments, and
our Lord was killed like a felon by the law, which He came to repeal. I
was thinking about Joseph Bullar's doctrine after I went to bed, founded
on what I cannot but think a blasphemous asceticism, which has obtained
in the world ever so long, and which is disposed to curse, hate, and
undervalue the world altogether. Why should we? What we see here of this
world is but an expression of God's will, so to speak--a beautiful earth
and sky and sea--beautiful affections and sorrows, wonderful changes and
developments of creations, suns rising, stars shining, birds singing,
clouds and shadows changing and fading, people loving each other,
smiling and crying, the multiplied phenomena of Nature, multiplied in
fact and fancy, in Art and Science, in every way that a man's intellect
or education or imagination can be brought to bear.--And who is to say
that we are to ignore all this, or not value them and love them,
because there is another unknown world yet to come? Why, that unknown
future world is but a manifestation of God Almighty's Will, and a
development of Nature, neither more nor less than this in which we are,
and an angel glorified or a sparrow on a gutter are equally parts of His
creation. The light upon all the saints in heaven is just as much and no
more God's work, as the sun which shall shine to-morrow upon this
infinitesimal speck of creation, and under which I shall read, please
God, a letter from my kindest Lady and friend. About my future state I
don't know; I leave it in the disposal of the awful Father--but for
to-day I thank God that I can love you, and that you yonder and others
besides are thinking of me with a tender regard. Hallelujah may be
greater in degree than this, but not in kind, and countless ages of
stars may be blazing infinitely, but you and I have a right to rejoice
and believe in our little part and to trust in to-day as in to-morro