n in a small degree
the love of Christ and yet denied His superiority over man! His love,
goodness, mercy are unbounded. O Lord! may I daily come into closer
communion with Thy Son, Jesus Christ."

On the 22d of February he addresses both of his parents in reply to a
letter sent by his brother John, detailing some of their troubles on
this head. He writes:

"It is as great a difficulty for me to reconcile my being here with
my sense of duty towards you. . . . Since I must speak, let me tell
you that I have at present no disposition to return. Neither are the
circumstances that surround me now those which will give me
contentment; but I feel that I am here as a temporary place, and that
by spring something will turn up which I hope will be for the
happiness of us all. What it will be I have not the least idea of
now. It is as impossible for me to give you an explanation of that
which has led me of late as it would be for a stranger. All before me
is dark, even as that is which leads me now and has led me before.
One sentiment I have which I feel I cannot impart to you. It is that
I am controlled. Formerly I could act from intention, but now I have
no future to design, nothing in prospect, and _my present action is
from a present cause, not from any past._ Hence it is that while my
action may appear to others as designed, to me it is unlooked-for and
unaccountable. I do not expect that others can feel this as I do. I
am tossed about in a sea without a rudder. What drives me onward, and
where I shall be driven, is to me unknown. My past life seems to me
like that of another person, and my present is like a dream. Where am
I? I know not. I have no power over my present, I do not even know
what it is. Whom can I find like myself, whom can I speak to that
will understand me?

"This makes me still, lonely; and I cannot wish myself out of this
state. I have no will to do that--not that I have any desire to. All
I can say is that I am in it. What would be the effect of necessity
on me, I know not, whether it would lead me back or lead me on. My
feeling of duty towards you is a continual weight upon me which I
cannot throw off--it is best, perhaps, that I cannot. All appears to
me as a seeming, not a reality. Nothing touches that life in me which
is seeking that which I know not."

TO GEORGE HECKER.--"Brook Farm, March 6, 1843.--What was the reason
of my going, or what made me go? The reason I am not able to tell.
But what