(seq. 53)

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[fol. 2v]

help of some little avocations, the forenoon is almost exhausted.
The remainder is devoted to reading. After dinner it is no time
to write. A newspaper is just the thing. When this is read, I recollect
some visits which ought to be immediately paid. I am resolved to
pay three of these, this afternoon. At the first place I find com-
pany which detains me the whole afternoon. The other two vis-
its must be paid at another time. Wednesday comes & I begin
my discourse. But it is such slow work, that I get tired of it, &
seek relief in reading. In the afternoon comes on another visit,
& thus passes one half of the week. On Thursday, just as
my pen begins its course, Mr Hyslop runs up stairs, & in-
vites me to ride to Boston Lecture with him to hear Dr
Clarke. This is a temptation too great to resist. I comply.
After lecture some good friend pressed me to dine with him.
And it is a wonder, if I am not thus detained, the remain-
der of the afternoon. Friday arrives; & I have made but small
progress in my sermon. I write a page or two; but the weath-
er is dull; I feel very unfit for writing; I take up a
book, resolving to trust to good Providence for the morrow.
Saturday finds me very anxious. This gives a ready spur
to my invention. My pen flies through thick & thin;
& by dinner two thirds of my sermon are completed.
In the afternoon we have company from Boston, which
detain me till the evening; & And often, poor soul! I am
obliged to scibble one third of a discourse by candle
light, these short evenings, or rashly encroach on the day of
rest! Now, if with the additional avocations of a family
you are not reduced to this direful necessity, happy are you.
What a sad journal have I presented you of my employment!
Would to Heaven, it was not too true! Should I now subjoin
how much of my time is spent in idle amusements; & how
much is squandered away in doing nothing, you would nat-
urally enough conclude, that "I have not fixed on a good plan
for its improvement"! I shudder to think, what a barren old age

[fol.2r]

must be the inevitable consequence of such idleness in youth!
I will not invite your attention any longer to such reflections, (&
beg pardon for saying so much) but will turn to something
more agreeable.

Last Tuesday, a day which deserves to be remembered with
the highest pleasure I spent at Wales's Villa with our dear
mutual friend, & your good brother, Mr Eben. Wales. I do not rec-
ollect ever spending a more agreeable day. The family, you
know, is small; but we needed no addition al numbers to add to our hap-
piness, excepting its absent members. Pleasure beamed on every
countenance; & joy, which can be exceeded only by more
refined natures, seemed the happy portion of each one pres-
ent. The absence of one, who, on a former similar occasion,
graced this happy circle, was not unnoticed. Still as her
less was yours & her gain, we should have been too self-
ish to have indulged unreasonable regret. I can almost
conceive the pleasure, you with your dear E. will enjoy in a
visit from her beloved brother. May you long & frequently en-
joy pleasures so refined.

Since I saw you, my dear friend, I have been called to a [ ]
of bitter mourning, where I myself was not an unfeeli[ ]
an uninterested spectator. A dear sister of my N. has be[ ]
in early life from the arms of fond affection, from a circle of
friends the most tenderly & closely allied. You can the more
easily concieve the grief which this event has occasioned, by im-
agining, sad thought! a similar breach in the family at
Wales's villa; with this aggravating circumstance, however
in respect to N. She has now no sister left at home to
sympathize with her in this heavy affliction, & cheer her
solitude.

It would afford me great pleasure, my good friend & brother
to meet you at Cambridge on the approaching com. & keep
up our annual visit. What should hinder? Eben. will be an
additional sharer in our usual enjoyment on such occasions. Your
dear E. I cannot expect to see. Who knows, but that but on the next
anniversary, she may join the party & pay interest for her
present absence by the addition of a little pratter! But -- I
speak, like one of the family, as if I had a clear little [ ] share in all their
pleasures. My forward pretensions may exclude me even from an invita-
tion to partake in their enjoyments. With the same ardor as ever your Philos.

P. S. My compliments to your [ ], & to inquiring friends.
I herewith present you Mr Harris's & Mr Cushing's sermons. I beg of you to write
by Mr Wales.

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