09. Harry's Letters, August-September 1865

STATE CONTROLLER'S OFFICE,

CARSON, NEVADA.

By Steamer.

[Postmark:] faint

[in pencil:] Sept 24 1865

Miss Nellie Verrill

Norway Village

Maine

Carson Sept 27th 1865

Dear Nellie:--

Your letter of August 16th came day before yesterday, the Steamer Sacramento having arrived in San Francisco on Saturday, bringing the mails. As I promised you in my letter of Sunday I impose the opportunity to acknowledge its receipt. But I must not attempt a regular letter, for this is one of my working days; and politics and the printers are keeping my hands full.

But right here I will essay something beside giving you a receipt for your kind epistle. It lies before me; and across the top of the first page I see something which I have read and pondered with no inconsiderable degree of satisfaction

[in Margin:] I am just about making up a budget of appeals for you. Kiss Lue for me. Regards to Byron.

It is altogether mostly of your good frankness to ask me "Do you pray for yourself?" To answer this and the deductions which follow it, categorically, I will say, first, I do not often "pray" in the common acceptance of the word. But we are too apt to give way to the conventional meaning of that word. I believe that one can "lift his soul to God" in devoutness of spirit without employing the set phrase of speech used in the churches or even at the family altar. And when I lay my head upon my pillow, I often, -- not always -- in inward reverence for the Supreme Creator, invoke his watchfull care for me and those I love and while feeling myself within the Divine presence, hope for

the continuance of life, health and all Earthy blessings for myself and them. And you share in these devotional thoughts of mine. Is this not prayer? I hope it is. Nellie I will not tell you any "little fibs". With you, I "detect deceit." God knows that impurities have fastened themselves about me and fastened themselves upon my habits of thought and action. But I hope that I have escaped that lower stratum of depravity, the practice of deceit. But every man who has learned his world will lesson feels that there is much of his experience for evil that he ought to withhold from the good and pure. Pretention is deceit -- I hope I do not practice it.

But I am writing a homily -- not a letter -- but with all that I have said, you may be certain that I am bad enough in all conscience. There is no "little fib" about that.

I am glad that you concur in my judgment of Mr Justice Lewis oration. He is a good friend of mine and I shall tell him that a certain young lady who is a very good judge of literary production, pronounces favorably upon his effort. Dont shrink nor be alarmed -- I wont tell him who that young lady is.

Please don't doubt me Nellie. I feel very sad when I sometimes fear that you do not altogether trust my sincerity. Believe me and pray for me; and when the good time comes that we shall meet again may our imperfect acquaintance ripen with full unison of confidence and love -- already full and perfect on my part now. And so do I

[left margin] breathe a prayer when I say may God bless you and me. My kind remembrance to all. I should like to read your proposed poem in "New Milk". Style it "Lacteal Musings" and send me a copy. Affectionately and in haste Harry.