“I beseech ye in the bowels of Christ, think that ye may be mistaken.” I should like to have that written over the portals of every church, every school, and every courthouse, and, may I say, of every legislative body in the United States. I should like to have every court begin, “I beseech ye in the bowels of Christ, think that we may be mistaken.”

Learned Hand, a prominent U.S. federal judge on the Second Circuit, invoked this plea for intellectual humility in a public address reflecting on tolerance and the dangers of certainty in public life. The opening sentence is itself a famous admonition attributed to Oliver Cromwell (addressed to the Church of Scotland in 1650). Hand repurposed Cromwell’s words to argue that institutions charged with moral instruction and coercive power—churches, schools, courts, and legislatures—should be constantly mindful of fallibility. The remark fits Hand’s broader mid‑20th‑century civic rhetoric, shaped by the experience of ideological conflict and the need for restraint, openness, and procedural fairness in democratic governance.

Hand’s point is not theological but civic: the most dangerous errors arise when authoritative bodies act as though they cannot be wrong. By urging that courts and legislatures begin from the premise “we may be mistaken,” he elevates doubt into a democratic virtue—an antidote to dogmatism, persecution, and overconfident policymaking. The vivid, archaic phrasing (“in the bowels of Christ”) underscores the urgency of the appeal while also reminding listeners that even religiously charged language can be redirected toward secular tolerance. In Hand’s vision, justice depends less on perfect wisdom than on institutions disciplined by humility, reasoned argument, and willingness to revise judgments.