e mourned for him
not only as for a brother, but also a chief. Now, almost all of his own
generation have passed away. Here and there one remains, to listen with
interest to a fresh account of persons and things once familiar; while
the story will find its chief audience among those who remember Mr.
Dewey [FN My father always preferred this simple title to the more
formal "Dr." and in his own family and among his most intimate friends
he was Mr. Dewey to the last. He was, of course, gratified by the
complimentary intention of Harvard University in bestowing the degree
of D.D. upon him in 1839, but he never felt that his acquisitions in
learning entitled him to it.] as among the lights of their own youth.
Those also who love the study of [9] human nature may follow with
pleasure the development of a New England boy, with a character of great
strength, simplicity, reverence, and honesty, with scanty opportunities
for culture, and heavily handicapped in his earlier running by both
poverty and Calvinism, but possessed from the first by the love of truth
and knowledge, and by a generous sympathy which made him long to impart
whatever treasures he obtained. To trace the growth of such a life to
a high point of usefulness and power, to see it unspoiled by honor and
admiration, and to watch its retirement, under the pressure of nervous
disease, from active service, while never losing its concern for the
public good, its quickness of personal sympathy, nor its interest in the
solution of the mightiest problems of humanity, cannot be an altogether
unprofitable use of time to the reader, while to the writer it is a work
of consecration. He who was at once like a son and brother to my father,
he who should have crowned a forty-years' friendship by the fulfilment
of this pious task, and who would have done it with a stronger and
a steadier hand than mine, BELLOWS, was called first from that "fair
companionship," while still in the unbroken exercise of the varied
and remarkable powers which made his life one of such [10] large use,
blessing, and pleasure to the world. None could make his place good to
his elder friend, whose approaching death was visibly hastened by grief
for the loss of the constant sympathy and devotion which had faithfully
cheered his declining years. Many and beautiful tributes were laid upon
my father's tomb by those whom he left here. Why should we not hope that
that of Bellows was in the form of greeting?

ST.