of things. How truly does Tennyson say:
“Our hearing is not hearing,
And our seeing is not sight.”
I feel more every day that logic is a miserable, untrustworthy guide, quite incapable of coping at all with the truths which are the most important for us to know. It is a minor power of the mind, of value only in a narrow and low sphere. Joseph Cook’s questions, Whence do I come? Why am I here? Whither am I going? put to logic will remain forever unanswered. Intuition only can reply. The riddles or the sphinx, intuition only can answer. Why, logic is based on intuition. Where it contradicts intuition it is idle. It is only the chain that links intuition to intuition; useless else. But why should I hector you thus? If you get as far as this, why, learn that I am repentant, but if your patience is exhausted before you reach this point, why then you’ll go without knowing it, probably. The Sunday Evening before Commencement there was a kind of missionary meeting at the First Church. The house was full to the brim. Even the choir seats were filled. In fact, I sat there myself, with Jennie Pond. First there was a missionary address by one of the Secretaries of the American Board. Then six young men were ordained for the foreign missionary field. Among them was Marcus Fuller. They all stood together on the stand while Prof. Smith gave them the charge. It was grand. I pined to be a missionary. If Lucius had lived he would have been standing there that night. I could hardly restrain my tears at the thought. I can’t tell you who the six young men were. There was Stimson and Stover and some others whom I don’t know. Fay graduated this year you know, Mother, and goes to Africa in the Fall. He is going (or by this time perhaps has been) to be ordained at home. The graduating class from the Seminary was very large this year; eighteen men. More than the graduates from the Literary Course. The prospects of the Seminary are I believe very favorable. It bids fair to become the leading Theological Seminary in the United States. The prospects of the Conservatory are also very good. I am not going East this vacation to see Julia, much as I would enjoy doing so, but expect to remain here in Oberlin during the vacation. I have got a chance to work at the Ladies’ Hall, mornings, and afternoons I read, study and write. I might work all day, I suppose. but my experience for the past week rather discourages me from attempting it. I am afraid that I would not be able to stand it. If I could be sure of having only light work, I could work all day without difficulty, but I never can tell beforehand whether I am going to have an easy or exhausting morning’s work, and when it is a hard one, it generally is all I care to do in one day. By working half a day, I pay my board and perhaps get a little something over. I expect to work all vacation if I thrive on it. But don’t be disappointed if you hear that I have quit, as I can easily see that I am liable to be set to work which I cannot stand. In the hay field, for example. Ellie would be delighted to hear what I am doing; mopping or scrubbing floors, washing windows and doors, etc., taking up carpets, sweeping, carrying bedsteads and chairs up in the attic and housecleaning generally. Yesterday I had to load bricks two hours and a half in the sun, while the thermometer stood at 94 in the shade. I enjoyed that, especially as I happened to be sick at the time. But I shan’t hurt myself.
HENRY.
OBERLIN, OHIO, July IO, ’81.
DEAR CARRIE AND HELEN,
Your two letters, welcome though short, reached me yesterday morning. I was over to the Ladies’ Hall busily engaged in dusting carpets when Reky brought it over to me. You may say without the least prevarication that I was exceedingly glad to stop work and read it. Especially as I wasn’t feeling very brilliant at the time, and was glad of any excuse to cease from my arduous labours. How does the course of existence go with you there at Honolulu? I have learned a thing or two lately. One is that the difference between one place and another is not that one is beautiful and the other is ugly, but that one is beautiful and the other very beautiful. Oberlin and Honolulu for example. My opinion of Oberlin has risen wonderfully since I began to work at the Hall. Going about the upper floors and up in the garret one is constantly getting a wide outlook over the country. The view from the top is really very pleasing. That is where you in Honolulu get the advantage of us, and where we in Oberlin chiefly suffer. Here I go week in and week out without seeing any further ahead of me than across the Campus. You see the tops of the mountains at every street corner. I remember I always used to look last year, as we passed every corner. We are having a dose of warm weather just now. Don’t talk about your oppressive weather, your “south wind” days. You there in Honolulu don’t really know what hot weather is. You have lived there so long you have forgotten. You call it hot when you can’t work comfortably. We call it hot when exertion is impossible and sitting still oppressive. To-day the thermometer stands at 98° in the shade. Yesterday it was 98°, the day before 96°, the day before 95°, etc. I wish you would look at the thermometer on some of your warm days. I tell people here that it never goes above 90°, and doesn’t reach that once a summer. But of course I don’t wish to tell stories.
We are having the sensation here of a comet. Has it appeared over your horizon? This is the first really respectable one that I ever saw. You can’t help seeing it. It is huge, comparatively speaking. What the exact object of its gyrations is I don’t know. Do you remember that big comet hoax some years ago? I remember the great interest it excited in the bosoms of us children.
Well, I have finished Macaulay’s “Life and Letters” at last. I have been six months reading it. It is tolerably interesting, but won’t compare with Green’s History, which is actually fascinating. I like the style and manner and the contents much more. The large History is the one I am reading. I have it printed by the American Book Exchange.
Wouldn’t it be splendid to have D. E. French come out there, and wouldn’t you like to have him stop with you? He is a splendid fellow, literary, and would be a great addition to your society there.
Thanks, Carrie, for your good long letter; it took me back home.
HENRY.
OBERLIN, Tuesday, July 12, ’81.
DEAR SISTER HELEN,
Your good long letter of three sheets, which came by the Ella, reached me yesterday. You have spent a summer in Oberlin, and know what it is. You’ve no idea, or rather, of course, you have an idea how it cheers one up to hear from home. Your letter reached me as I was over at the Ladies’ Hall washing windows, etc. I didn’t wait till I got home before I read it, you may be sure. There was also a short letter from Mother enclosed, which I am thankful for.
Your descriptions, Helen, are delightful. They bring the scene before my eyes with a life that excels the best photographs.
Thank you so much for the pictures you sent. You picked out the very picture of Diamond Head that I wanted. Your tastes and mine must be alike. The picture looking down Nuuanu is the one I wanted, and the Pali is splendid. I had a picture of it before, but this is a good deal different, and a great deal better than my old one. I will enclose a list of my pictures with this letter, if possible. I can sympathise, Helen, with your feelings on the summer you spent here at Oberlin. I find it rather dull and lonely. While I have the advantage of good health and more company than you had. But if I had the work done which I must do this vacation, I should be glad to have school begin again tomorrow. And that isn’t precisely the way to look forward to vacation, which ought to be the most pleasant time of the year. However, I shall feel better about it when it gets a little cooler. And now, about the Junior Ex. election. I am very sorry that you home folks have heard anything about the election. But I suppose you saw the Editorial in the Review. And as long as you did, I, of course, wish for my own sake that you should hear the whole story, though a miserable college squabble like this cannot be very interesting. Some time before the Election I was approached by a member of the class, who stated that there were strong suspicions of the existence of a ring. Two or three fellows in the class were supposed to be manæuvring to put themselves on. He illustrated this by showing how those fellows had managed the usherships for the Junior Ex. You know the Sophomores
