(seq. 24)

[fol. 2v]

as many other truths, "to light." Paley's moral philosophy I am now perusing.
His reasoning is plain and conclusive. They tell me, however, that his system
is entirely subverted by Ginborne. I shall feel very small, if this author dis-
proves the justness of his reason to my satisfaction. Avast!--- I am
upon a plan wholly new in our correspondence. We commonly write for re-
laxation. I am invoking the manes of departed authors. There, I told a lie to
complete my period. Paley is still living. But, as I have so much to do, I
am glad of any assistance. While I am on literary subjects, I will detail
you a piece of information, I lately derived from Pater West. It may be old
to you. I will venture to communicate it. You may have heard, that the
Hopkinsians build their system of disinterested benevolence almost wholly
on that passage in Romans IX. 3. where St. Paul says, "For I could wish,
"that myself were accursed for Christ for my brethren." &c. They also de-
pend on this text to keep them in countenance, when they ask the sick,
if they are willing to be damned. The word rendered I could wish,
you may observe in the G.T. is Ηύχόμην. Now, as this is in the imper-
fect, indicative, the most accurate interpretation is I did wish;that
is, says the Doctor, before I was converted. This may appear, at least
very plausible, if not the most just, when we consider that the connex-
ion does not forbid this construction, and that St. Paul was much
more devoted to the Jews, in particular, before than after his conver-
sion. I cannot see, on any other interpretations, why we may not be
willing to be damned, in the language of the Hops. if it should
tend to promote the interest of our friends, much more for the glory
of God. I will give you another piece of information, which I, this
day obtained from a large Greek Lexicon in my possesion, by Scapula.
You may know it already. At College, however, I never could get sat-
isfaction respecting it. The remark is this, Attica dialectus semper
passivis verbis pro activis utitur, ut γραφομας pro γραφω : & πσιȣμς
pro ποιῶ. I have very frequently observed in Homer, Xenophon, but
espcially in G.T. this use of word, and never could account for it.
This, I think, removes all difficulties. But I spare you.

We both appear to express ourselves obscurely in some instances. You are am-
biguous from design; I from misfortune. By design, do not misun-
derstand me. You have doubtless, no object, but what can be pursued by
means perfectly innocent. You request an explanation of "endeav-
ored to obtain information from me, too delicate for him to ask, or you
"to give", in my letter. I believe, I raised your curiosity more, than I
intended. You say, "I had scarcely a thought in my heart, which I did
"not express to him." Very well. Then there is no meaning in the said
clause of my Letter. I supposed, you had been coy, as you are remark-

[fol. 2r]

ably "timid", and had but obscurely intimated your design. I have
since thought, the Esquire mentioned the matter to me, as he knew; by your
information, I was acquainted with it, to shew me, how heartily he acceded
to your proposal. You may rely on it, from what he then said and from
what I have since gathered, that ------ you may guess. Never was I
acquainted with a warmer Christian. I hope, on your next visit, you
will have an opportunity to know his religious sentiments. They are
the very essence of catholicism. You will find him ready, on most
points of religion. You will be persuaded, that his religion is not the
cold and barren offspring of speculation, but the warm and generous
effusion of a heart warmed by practical piety. That he is not hypo-
critical is almost demonstrable from his courting the society of religious
characters, and, at all times, producing those fruits, which are our Savior's
criterion of sincere Christians. Need I subjoin any thing respecting his
daughter. I will not. My pen would "grow wanton in her praise." Excuse
the figure. You take the idea. "The second Sabbath in Sept. I expect to
keep in Menotomy. If circumstances befriend, I shall see you." I exult
at the idea. My heart will be open to every emotion of friendship. Pray
first impressions; the one with modest assurance; the other
with downcast eyes, blushing the deepest friendship. To be
spectator of such a scene will qualilfy me to become an ac-
complished actor!

I thank you for the account of your correspondence. My heart
vibrated in unison with your emotions. You were kind in appealing
to my own experience. I realized every throb. To see friendship grad-
ually ripen into love from [ ] friend to your's entirely ah!
and to feel it too! What can be more enrapturing? I wish I
could prevail on you to bring E's letters in your pocket book. I will shew
you letters, as interesting to me. Come, do now. Let us be confidential
friends. It will heighten our pleasure. And I do not see the sin
or impropriety; especially as they are, probably on similiar subjects.

At the close of my letter, I will make a proposal, in which
my heart is uncommonly interested. I think of attending Providence
commencement, which will be on the first Wednesday in Sept. Now, if you can
possibly contrive to ride to Dorch. on Monday & spend the evening at---in
the bosom of friendship, embark with me on Tuesday, for Providence, at-
tend com. return on Thurs. via M. and see my beloved--you might
easily reach Haverhill by the Sabbath. And oh! Hhow we might enjoy
ourselves! Think seriously of this. Let no commonly difficulties hinder.
Well, my eyes ache smartly, and if you have read thus far, your eyes
will sparkle with joy to see the known signature of your

Φίλος.

P.S. Pray write by the young lady, you mention; and sooner, if convenient. This I shall
have at the Esquire's, to be delivered to the care of Mr Stimpson.