s than yours or that of your party, is the question.

I don't like the tendencies of your mind (I don't say heart) on this
question; your willingness to bring the whole grand future of this
country to the edge of the present crisis; your idea of this crisis as a
second Revolution, and of the cause of liberty as equally involved; your
thinking it so fatal to be classed with Tories, or with-, and-, and your
regret that I should have gone down South to lecture. It all looks to me
narrow.

I may address the public on this subject. But if I do, I shan't do it
mainly for my own sake; at any rate, I shall write to you when I get
leisure.

With love to E.,

Yours ever,

ORVILLE DEWEY.

To Rev. Ephraim Peabody, D.D.

SHEFFIELD, Nov. 10, 1856.

MY DEAR PEABODY,--I have written you several imaginary letters since I
saw you, and now I'm determined (before I go to Baltimore to lecture,
which is next week) that I will write you a real one. I desired H. T.
to inquire and let me know how you are, and she writes that you are very
much the same as when I was in Boston,--riding out in the morning, and
passing, I fear, the same sad and weary afternoons. I wish I were near
you this winter, that is, if I could help you at all through those heavy
hours. [244] I am writing a lecture on "Unconscious Education;" for I
want to add one to the Baltimore course. And is not a great deal of our
education unconscious and mysterious? You do not know, perhaps, all that
this long sickness and weariness and prostration are doing for you. I
always think that the future scene will open to us the wonders of this
as we never see them here.

Heine says that a man is n't worth anything till he has suffered;
or something like that. I am a great coward about it; and I imagine
sometimes that deeper trial might make something of me.

My dear friend, if I may call you so, I write to little purpose,
perhaps, but out of great sympathy and affection for you. I do not know
of a human being for whom I have a more perfect esteem than for you.
And in that love I often commend you, with a passing prayer, or sigh
sometimes, to the all-loving Father. We believe in Him. Let us "believe
the love that God hath to us."

With all our affectionate regards to your wife and girls and to you,

Yours ever,

ORVILLE DEWEY.

Within a few weeks the pure and lofty spirit to whom these words were
addressed was called hence, and the following letter was written:--

SHEFFI