Autobiography and Letters of 
Orville Dewey,
by Orville 
Dewey 
 
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Dewey, 
D.D., by Orville Dewey This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 
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Title: Autobiography and Letters of Orville Dewey, D.D. Edited by his 
Daughter 
Author: Orville Dewey 
Editor: Mary Dewey 
Release Date: July 31, 2006 [EBook #18956] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ASCII 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK LETTERS 
OF ORVILLE DEWEY *** 
 
Produced by Edmund Dejowski
AUTOBIOGRAPHY AND LETTERS OF ORVILLE DEWEY, D.D. 
Edited by his Daughter Mary Dewey 
 
INTRODUCTORY. 
IT is about twenty-five years since, at my earnest desire, my father 
began to write some of the memories of his own life, of the friends 
whom he loved, and of the noteworthy people he had known; and it is 
by the help of these autobiographical papers, and of selections from his 
letters, that I am enabled to attempt a memoir of him. I should like to 
remind the elder generation and inform the younger of some things in 
the life of a man who was once a foremost figure in the world from 
which he had been so long withdrawn that his death was hardly felt 
beyond the circle of his personal friends. It was like the fall of an aged 
tree in the vast forests of his native hills, when the deep thunder of the 
crash is heard afar, and a new opening is made towards heaven for 
those who stand near, but when to the general eye there is no change in 
the rich woodland that clothes the mountain side. 
But forty years ago, when his church in New York was crowded 
morning and evening, and [8] eager multitudes hung upon his lips for 
the very bread of life, and when he entered also with spirit and power 
into the social, philanthropic, and artistic life of that great city; or 
nearly sixty years ago, when he carried to the beautiful town and 
exquisite society of New Bedford an influx of spiritual life and a depth 
of religious thought which worked like new yeast in the well-prepared 
Quaker mind,--then, had he been taken away, men would have felt that 
a tower of strength had fallen, and those especially, who in his parish 
visits had felt the sustaining comfort of his singular tenderness and 
sympathy in affliction, and of his counsel in distress, would have 
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    
    
		
	
	
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