There! it's a short argument, but a long conclusion shall follow,—a week long of talk and pleasure, which shall be as good as forty weeks long, by the heart's measurement. [213]Alas! these college prayers! If I had anything to do with them, it would be upon the plan of remodelling hem entirely. I would have them but once in a day, it a convenient hour, say eight or nine o'clock in the morning. I would have leave to do what my heart night prompt in the great hours of adoration. Reading the Scriptures with a word of comment, sometimes, or t word uttered as the spirit moved, without reading; or instead, a matin hymn or old Gregorian chant, solemn seasons, free breathings of veneration and joy; sometimes he reading of a prayer of the Episcopal Church, or of he venerable olden time, always a bringing down A the great sentiment of devotion into young life, to De its guidance and strength,—this should be college prayers. . . .
To Rev. Henry W. Bellows.
SHEFFIELD, Feb. II, 1850.
My DEAR FRIEND,—In the first place, La Bruyere was the name of the French satirist that I could not remember the other day. In the second place, I have a letter from Mr. Lowell, inviting me to deliver the second course of lectures, and the time fixed upon is the winter after next; I can't be prepared by next winter. As to the title, I think, after all, Herder's is the best: "Philosophy of Humanity," or I should as lief say, "On the Problem of Evil in the World." You said of me once in some critique, I believe, that I always seemed to write as in the presence of objectors. I shall be very likely to do so now. Well, here is work for me for two years ahead, if I have life and health, and work that I like above all other. In the third place, I don't think I shall do much for the "Inquirer." My name has really [214] no business on the first page; in fact, I never thought of its standing there as a fixture. I supposed you would say for once in your opening that such and such persons would help you. With my habits of writing, I am better able to write long articles than short ones; and the "Christian Examiner" pays more than you, and I am obliged to regard that consideration. I must have three or four hundred dollars a year beyond my income, or sell stock,—a terrible alternative. In the fourth place, every man is right in his own eyes; I am a man: therefore I am right in my eyes. I am very unprofessional; that is, in regard to the etiquette and custom of the profession. I am; and in regard to the professional mannerism and spirit of routine, I am very much afraid of it. But I do not think that many persons have ever enjoyed the religious services of our profession more than I have; the spiritual communion, which is its special function, and that, not through sermons alone, but in sacraments, in baptisms, in fireside conference with darkened and troubled minds, has long been to me a matter of the profoundest interest and satisfaction. It is the one reigning thought of my life now to see and to show how the Infinite Wisdom and Loveliness shine through this universe of forms. To this will I devote myself; nay, am devoted, whether I will or not. This will I pursue, and will preach it. I will preach it in the Lowell Lectures. Shall I be wrong if I give up other preaching for the time? You think so. Perhaps you are right. Any way, it is not a matter of much importance, I suppose. There is a great deal too much of preaching, such as it is. The world is in danger of being preached out of all hearty and spontaneous religion. What would you think, if the love of parents and chil-[215] dren were made the subject of a weekly lecture in the family, and of such lecture as the ordinary preaching is? Oh if a Saint Chrysostom, or even a Saint Cesarius, or a Robert Hall could come along and speak to us once in half a year, they would leave, perhaps, a deeper imprint than this perpetual and petrifying drop-dropping of the sanctuary.
By the bye, read those extracts from the sermons of Saint Cesarius, in the sixteenth lecture of Guizot on French civilization, and see if they are not worth inserting in the "Inquirer." The picture which Guizot gives in that and the following lecture, of Christianity struggling in the bosom of all-surrounding wrong, cruelty, and sensualism, is very beautiful. It is one of the indications of the raging ultraism of the time, that the calm wisdom and piety of such a man as Guizot should be so little appreciated.
When I read such writers as this, I am rather frightened at my undertaking; but I believe there is a great deal to be said to the people that is not beyond me, and I shall modestly do what I can. I began yesterday to study Hegel's "Philosophy of History," and though I can read but a few pages a day, I believe I shall master it; and after one gets through with his theory, I imagine, in looking at his topics ahead, that I shall find matters that are intelligible and practical. I am, as ever,
Yours,
ORVILLE DEWEY. To William Cullen Bryant, Esq.
SHEFFIELD, Feb. 25, 1850.
MY DEAR BRYANT,—You will remember, perhaps, our conversation when you were last up here, about our Club [216] of the XXI. You know my attachment to it. The loss of those pleasant meetings is indeed one of the things I most regret in leaving the city. I cannot bear to forfeit my place in that good company. In this feeling I am about to make a proposition which I beg you will present for me, and that you will, as my advocate, try to explain and show that it is not so enormous as at first it may seem. I pray, then, my dear Magnus, [FN 1] that you will turn your poetical genius to account by describing the beautiful ride up the valley of the Housatonic, and this our beautiful Berkshire, and will put in the statistical fact that it is but six hours and a half from New York to Sheffield, [FN 2] and then will request the Club to meet at my house some day in the coming summer. I name Wednesday, the 9th of June. I propose that the proper Club-meeting be on the evening of that day. The next day I propose that we shall spend among the mountains,-seeing Bashpish, and, if possible, the Salisbury Lakes. And I will thank you, as my faithful solicitor, that, if you are obliged of your knowledge to confess to the fact of my very humble housekeeping, you will also courageously maintain that with the aid of my friends I can make our brethren as comfortable as people expect to be on a frolicking bout, and that I can easily get good country wagons to take them on a jaunt among the mountains. You will tell me, I hope, how my proposition is received; and by received, I do not mean any vote or resolution, but whether the gentlemen seem to think it would be a pleasant thing.