o do, after sermon! You will have to write a letter to me
immediately, to relieve my anxieties about your religious education.
Was the text, "And they rose up early on the morrow and offered burnt
sacrifices and brought peace offerings; and the people sat down to eat
and to drink, and rose up to play "? See the same, Exodus xxxii. 6.
[276] There! I am not in deep waters, you see, but skimming on the
surface, except when I subscribe myself your abused, scolded, but

Faithful friend,

ORVILLE DEWEY.

My wife and people send their love and dire indignation to you.

To Miss Catherine M. Sedgwick.

SHEFFIELD, Dec. 12, 1864.

. . . It is not pleasant to think upon death. It would not be pleasant
to any company of friends to think that the hour for parting was near.
Death is a solemn and painful dispensation. I will have no hallucination
about it. I "wait the great teacher, Death." I do not welcome it. It
is a solemn change. It is a dread change to natures like ours. I do not
believe that the Great Disposer meant that we should approach it with
a smile, with an air of triumph,--with any other than feelings of lowly
submission and trust. I do not want to die. I never knew anybody that
did, except when bitter pain or great and irremediable unhappiness made
the release welcome. And yet, I would not remain forever in this world.
And thus, like the Apostle, "I am in a strait betwixt two." And I
believe that it is better to depart; but it is a kind of reluctant
conclusion. It may be even cheerful; but it does not make it easy for
me to tear myself from all the blessed ties of life. I submit to God's
awful will; but it is with a struggle of emotions, that is itself
painful and trying,--that tasks all the fortitude and faith of which
I am capable. [277] Will you tell me that our Christian masters and
martyrs spoke of a "victory" over death? Yes, but is victory all joy?
Ah, what a painful thing is every victory of our arms in these bloody
battles, though we desire it! Do you feel that I am not writing to you
in the high Christian strain? Perhaps not. But I confess I am accustomed
to bring all that is taught me--all that is said in exceptional
circumstances like those of the apostles-into some adjustment with a
natural, necessary, and universal experience. Besides, Jesus himself did
not approach death with a song of triumph upon his lips. What a union,
in him, of sorrow and trust! No defying of pain, no boasting of calmness
or st