| (seq. 53)[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. | (seq. 53)[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 [covered] of bitter mourning, wherer myself was not an unfeeli[covered] an uninterested Spectator. A dear sister of my N. has be[covered] in early life from the arms of fond affection from a circle of friends the most tenderly & closely allied. You can the mode easily concieve the grief which this event has occasioned; by imagining, 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, I 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, an such occasions. Your dear E. I cannot expect to see. Who knows, that on the next anniversary, she may join the party & pay interest for her absence by the addition of a little pratter! But - I speak, like one of the family as if I had a clear little share to all thier pleasures. My forward pretensions may exclude! me even from an invitation to partake in thier enjoyment. With the same ardor as ever your Philos.
P. S. My compliments to your [Cay?], & to miquiring friends. I herewith present you Mr Harris's + Mr Cushing's Sermons. I beg of you to write by Mr Wales. |
EN