MEMOIR OF DAXIEL TREADWELL. 337 



and all the people ■n'ere nothing. Your kind attention to my Faith deserves m_v gratitude. 

 I consider the Christian's belief as of more ralue than anything else he can possess in this 

 ■world ; but from the peculiar construction of my mind I sadly fear that it is a treasure not 

 for me. I shall certainly read Butler's Analogy, as you recommend. If I recollect rightly 

 one of the Apostles, or some churchman, has said, ' Lord, help my unbelief.' Now, if I could 

 gain this by asking, I should ask loud and often. Still I hope that you do not put me down 

 for an outright Deist, but merely a sceptic in religion. I would believe because I admire the 

 character of Jesus Christ, and, more than all, because I think the immortality of the soul 

 cannot be proved by natural religion, and there is something inexpressibly cold and gloomy 

 in the bare idea of annihilation. I could almost as comfortably think of going to Purgatory 

 as being annihilated. I am very sorry to find that you estimate my intellectual properties 

 so highly ; for I am sure, very sure, that you have valued me much beyond my deserving. 

 Consequently, the correction of your judgment must end to my shame. — for of all things it 

 is the most mortifying to fall in the estimation of those by whom we wish to be thought 

 well of. You say there are only a few persons in this wide world that you feel perfectly 

 at home with. I supposed that I was the only human being so solitary, and I am rather 

 pleased to find myself supported by your authority in being alone though surrounded by all 

 the world. 



I shall derive some advantages from this voyage, although it should not be successful in its 

 particular object ; for there is much for an American to pick up in England by looking at 

 the bad side of the picture, and for the most part it is but a poor daubing. I am happy to 



learn that our friend Dr. is so-so. I ought to have written to him, and should long ago, 



but that I knew he would see my letters to you. I do not forget him nor Dr. S , and I 



hope in return to be remembered by them whenever the blue devils (and I suppose they have 

 not yet been all laid in the Red Sea) are not tormenting them. When I left Boston I intended 

 to have paid considerable attention to the lectures here, but there have been so many calls 

 on my time, and my mind has been so engrossed by my particular aii'airs, that I have not 

 been able to attend to them. Quacking is carried on in the most neat manner imaginable in 

 London. To give you an instance. A fellow by the name of Daniels, who kept a shop a few 

 years ago in the Strand for selling life-preservers, as he called them, — that is, cork jackets to 

 swim with, — all at once turned his shop out of doors, and, assuming the name of Dr. Cooper, 

 procured a carriage painted to imitate Mr. Astley Cooper's, and commenced advertising to do 

 everything but raise the dead ; there arc hundreds who go to him believing him to be in 

 fact Mr. A. Cooper. It is said he has made quite a fortune. There are many other instances 

 of as outrageous fraud as this. One cannot walk half a mile in one of the princijial streets 

 without having half a dozen quack bills put into his hands. I shall write to you again 

 very soon. The English are wonderfully ignorant of all that relates to America (which they 

 affect to despise) ; this is decidedly to our advantage, for we learn from tlicm, and have our 

 own improvements in knowledge to boot. 



With sentiments of the highest esteem, believe me to remain, dear sir, yours, 



D. Treadwell. 



To Dr. John Ware. 



London, July 8, 1820. 



... As I do not meet with that success which I thought I had a right to expect, I shall 

 in all probability see you soon after this reaches you. There arc several causes which pre- 



