I have lately been reading Mrs Montague's essays upon the Genious and writings of shakspear, and I am so well pleased with them; that I take the Liberty of presenting them to you.2 The Lady is still living, a widow, and possessd of an ample fortune, without any children, she has a Nephew who bears the same name and has lately been returnd a member to parliament.3 I should have wished to have formed an acquaintance with her,4 if I had not learnt that she was a voilent Anti American, tho a sister of a mr Roberson who has written some things in favour of our Country, and who has always been Friendly to our cause.5

I have resided in this Country near two years and in that time, I have made some few acquaintance whom I esteem and shall leave with regreet, but the customs and manners of a Metropolis are unfriendly to that Social intercourse which I have ever been accustomed to. Amusement and diversion may always be purchased at the Theatres & places of publick resort, so that little pains is taken to cultivate that benevolence & interchange of kindness which sweetens life, in lieu of which mere visits of form are substitued to keep up the union; not only the wrinkeled brow of age is grasping at the card table & even tricking with mean avarice, but the virgin bloom of innocence and beauty is withered at the same vigils. I do not think I should draw a false picture of the Nobility and Gentry of this Metropolis, if I was to assert, that Money and pleasure are the sole objects of their ardent persuit, publick virtue, & indeed all virtue is exposed to Sale,6 and as to principle, where is it to be found, either in the present administration, or opposition? Luxery dissapation and vice, have a natural tendency to extirpate every generous 46principle, and leave the Heart susceptable of the most malignant vices. to the total absence of principle must be asscribed the conduct of the Heir apparant to the British Throne, which is the subject of much speculation at this moment. The World have Supposed that a marriage had taken place between the prince, and a Lady known by the Name of Fitzherbert, whom for 3 years he persued driving her for more than half that time out of her country to avoid him. as she was in independant circumstances, of an ancient & respectable family; of a Fair Character and honorable connections every person presumed her married to him, Tho contrary to the establishd Laws of the Land, & this not only by a Catholick priest, but a protestant one too, every step for more than a year has confirmed this Idea, as the Lady has attended him; not only to the Watering places, but into all publick, and private parties, and at the princs request has been countananced by the first persons in the Kingdom, and the publick papers have announced the report & given credit to it uncontradicted throughout all Europe, but now at a Time when he wishes to be relieved from the load of debt he has contracted, and finds that this affair is like to become a subject of parlimentary discussion, he authorizes Charles Fox (A Man as unprincipald as the prince) to declare the whole story a malicious falsehood, and in the most explicit terms to deny even the shadow of a marriage.7 yet not a person whom I have heard mention the subject since believes; a syllable of mr Fox's assertion thus does this young man set both Law & Decency at defience; his Friends are even so barefaced as to pretend that no connextion but of the platonick kind has ever subsisted between them, he a mere Scipio, & she a vestal. What a prospect for this Country? What a prostration of Honour & virtue! the Heir Apparant, frequenting the Haunts of intemperance and vice, his greatest intimates Sycophants and Knaves, appearing in company so disguised as to lose himself, and commit the greatest rudeness, which was the case not a month Since— Yet when sober really possessing the outward appearence of a well bred gentleman, by Some he is held up as a man of Learning and abilities, but of this I cannot learn any Specimins; not even a refinement in his vices, since he is branded with a taste, for the lowest & most vulgar—but I will quit him, Since I shall never owe him; either honour or Allegence, and will turn my attention to my own Country, which tho not terrified with the prospect of a proffligate prince to govern it appears to be in an untranquilized state, embarressed in its Finances, distresst in its commerce and unbalanced in its 47Governments, but I have Faith that will remove mountains, and as distress and difficulties in private life, are frequently Spurs to dilligence, so have we seen publick industery excited in the same manner, during the late War. Success crowned our efforts and gave us Independance, our misfortune is that then we became indolent and intoxicated; Luxery with ten thousand evils in her train, exiled the humble virtues. Industery & frugality, were swallowd up in dissipation.

“but it is not upon Record, says a late writer that any state was ever yet so exhausted, but that whilst it enjoyed Liberty it might draw new resources from its own vitals. Though the tree is lopped, yet so long as the root remains unhurt, it will through out a greater Luxuriancy of Branches, produce fruits of better flavour and derive fresh vigor from the ax—”8

Why my Dear Madam, may we not console ourselves with Ideas of this kind, instead of giving way to despondency? I was very happy to learn that my young Friend Harry distinguishd himself with the ardour of a patriot, and the zeal of a Good Citizen in accompanying General Lincoln in his late expedition.9 had Pericles lived in the present day, he could not have made the boast, which he does in his funeral oration over the Athenians, Saying that they were the only people, who thought those who did not lend their assistance in State affairs—not indolent—but good for Nothing.10 it is indeed a pleasing presage of future good, when the most promising Youth, shrink not from danger, through a fondness for those delights, which a peacefull affluent Life bestows “but bare their bold Breast, & pour their generous Blood”11 esteeming it a dishonour that their Country should stand in need of any thing which their valour can acchive.12

I Long my dear madam to return to my native land. my little Cottage encompassed with my Friends has more charms for me than the drawing Room of St James,13 where Studied civility, and disguised coldness, cover malignant Hearts.

I will not close this letter without informing you that I am—a Grand—o no! That would be confesing myself old, which would be quite unfashionable and vulgar—but true it is. I have a fine grandson. I regreet a little that it was not a daughter, for then I would have claimd the little one for the great one. Mrs Smith desires me to present her respectfull compliments to you, with thanks for your kind and Friendly Letter, which she will notice as soon as she is able.14 be so good as to present my Regards to the Genll, and all your Worthy family. I must acquit myself of a promise made to a 48young Gentleman, who requested me when I wrote to you, to lay him respectfully at your feet, by which I presume he meant that I should express, the high esteem and profound veneration, which he always professes towards You, and I knew not how to do it better: than by giving you his own words. I dare say you will be at no loss to recollect this Gentleman by the Name of Shipping; who is as Geenteel well Bred a youth as any one from our Country, and who is quite at home with us as well as his companion mr Cutting, who I think will make a figure in Life, as he has both abilities and application.

I know not what to say for my companion that he has not written a single Letter by this opportunity, but that he is so much engaged in travelling through the Itallian Republicks that I cannot draw of his attention, except only to official Letters. he says his Friends must accept his printed letters. I will not apoligize for the length of my Letter, concious as I am of all my Sins of omission, but be assured dear Madam, That neither a want of affection or Regard are in the number, for those my Heart shall not reproach

Your assured Friend

Yours of July 19th which either did, or was to have come in Callihan last Fall, I did not receive 'till the 6th of March1—where it had lain, or where Peabody got it from I cannot tell—but this I know, I am glad I have it, for it is a valuable acquisition to me, as rich, & precious Treasure, as all my dear Sisters Letters are—

Your eldest Son made us a Visit of a few Days in March— He says he enjoys fine Health— He is much thiner than he was in Europe— But what he loses in Flesh, he gains in Beauty— He looks more, & more like his Mother— Upon my word, I know not a likelier Youth—He behaved in so modest, agreeable, & pleasing a manner, as if he wished to convince us that the only Error which we ever suggested to him, was intirly removed; as I presumed it would be, after a few more years had ripened his Judgment, & Experience had shewn that 50the wisest, & best of Men differed greatly in their Opinions, & Ideas of Things, & that it was no easy matter to fix the exact point, where

I had much rather see a youth tenacious of his own Sentiments, & Opinion, than appear as though he had none— The latter implies a stupid, dissolute, dissapated state of Mind, while the former indicates Thought, & Reflection— In the one, the Soil appears either weak, or polluted—while the other wants nothing but Time, & the gentle hand of Affection to prune the excresent Branches, to make it yield Fruit in abundance fair to the Eye, & rich to the Taste—

Your Son is possessed of one quality, which must forever endear him to his Friends—& that is a communicative, facetious Disposition— He appears to have nothing which he need wish to secrete, & therefore feels happy in communicating his Pleasures, & Amusements— How calm, how serene, must his retired Moments be— How very different when compared with the dark, artful, intriguing Youth, whose versatility, & duplicity, whose Artifice, & Flattery, simulation & disimulation render him the most fearful, suspicious, as well as the most uneasy Thing in Nature—

There was a Time, when I was very anxious for your young Hercules, lest his Heart might be subdued by One whom I knew his riper Judgment, could never approve—3 I knew she had the most brilliant Talents, & could assume the most enchanting manners, whenever she pleased for the purpose of Conquest— She often made me think of those Lines of Young—

but too vain, & too volatile to fix with Choice,

We were conversing together one Day, when he was boasting rather too much I thought of his own Security, against every female Charm, when I took occasion to tell him, I feared, that was a Rock which would endanger him— For when Persons thought the outworks safe it had not been an unusual thing for the Citidal to be conquered— This brought on a very confidential & interesting Conversation— He told me that while he was in Europe, he became acquainted with a young Lady of great delicacy, & merit—a Person 51whose Character, & Manners nearly resembled his Cousin E——C——s, & that his heart almost became a Vassal to her many Virtues—that this early attachment had secured him against the Snares, & inroads of a less worthy Object— And though it was left to his Choice to return, or to pursue his Studies with her Father, yet he prefered the former, as the most compatible with his Plans, & future Prospects—5 I could not help looking upon the amiable Youth before me, with additional love, & respect— Sure (thought I) “Wisdom hath entered into thine Heart— Knowledge is pleasant unto thy Soul— Discretion hath preserved thee— & may Understanding still keep thee—”6

“Indeed my Aunt (said he) I know you have been concerned for me, but you need not have the least fearful Apprehension with regard to this Lady, for though I was exceedingly pleased at first, yet I have lived long enough with her to know her Principles, & see into the motives of her Conduct, & the Lord knows, she is not the Person who would engage my Affections—” So true it is, that

I assure you this tete a tete gave me great releif, for I had seen a Peice inscribed to Delia,8 & had critically observed each movement— But there appeared so much openness in his Countenance, & manner, as left me no room to doubt his Sincerity—

When he was here last he seemed to be very anxious & thoughtful what he should do with himself, & who he should Study with after Commencement— He seemed inclined to go to Worchester—But I told him that was because his Father had acquired his knowledge of the Law there— Times were altered— The Gentleman his Father had lived with, was not now there—& if he was, perhaps he would not prefer his living with him—9 There were several Gentlemen he mentioned that we did not know— Judge Lincoln,10 & Mr Parsons of Newbury, Mr Shaw is personally acquainted with—& upon many accounts gave the preference to the latter—though they are both great Practitioners, & eminent in their Proffession—

The time will soon arrive when he will commence— He will not like many of his fellow students have his Proffession to chuse, for in that he has been determined for these many Years— And if application can make a Man distinguished, I presume, he will shine with 52no inferior Lustre— The President has not grieved, nor vexed him with a Syllogism—but has conffered upon the honour of an English Oration—

Mr Shaw has three Pupils, who will take there Degrees this year— If my Health, & the health of my Family will permit, I am determined to go—And then the Sky-born Silk, which you kindly fancy I have some pretensions to, will be made up, & worn—

It is thought most for the honour of the Colledge to have a publick Commencement, though a very Economical One—

I believe the Idea of performing before so crowded an Auditory, must have a very great Influence upon the Mind of an ambitious Youth—And it must be a mean spirited Fellow who does not feel its force, & double his Diligence—

If I had written half so much about any-other Person, but your own Son, I should feel ashamed to send it— But what Subject can be more pleasing to a Parent, than the Concerns of her dear Children—

I was greatly affected (as I presume you will be) at hearing of the Death of that Man God, the Revd Dr Gay—11

The very particular, & great Friendship which subsisted between him, & my Father, made him doubly dear to me— I was taught to love, & respect him from my earliest Infancy— I can remmember when I have stood by him, & sought to be noticed, as if I had believed a stroke over my Head, a Pat upon my Shoulder, & a Squeze of his hand would infuse some heavenly Virtue—

Never shall I forget his Visiting my Father in his last Sickness—when with Eyes full of Compassion, & tender Sympathy—with faultering Steps, & trembling accents, he approached the Bed, & said, “my Brother I did not expect you would get to heaven before me.”

Pity for the extreme Distress of our dear Parent, called up every tender emotion of his benevolent Soul, & stopped the Utterance—

He was not himself called to pass through such dire Conflicts—He had his wish, that he might wear, & not rust out—For he was preparing for the duties of the Day, & looking over his Notes, when he was called to go a Sabbath Days Journey—& I presume sweet was the Journey to the Sky, which this wondering Prophet took—for—

I have received yours of Jan. 20th, & March 10th—13

O my Sister! what shall I say to you for your repeated acts of kindness— what return can I make— It is written that it is more blessed to give, than to receive— I believe you think it is or you would not be so continually pouring your Favours upon us—

Betesy Quincy sends her Duty, & thinks the Silk you sent her will make her a nice sam,14 & afterwards do for a Skirt— As to poor WSS he almost fainted away, he was so elated with the Sight of his Books— He did not sleep till late, & was awake at break of Day—They are excellent Books & well calculated to pour the fresh Instruction over the Mind—

Mr Shaw is very much dissappointed at not receiving his from Mr Adams—Since by what you wrote, there was one intended for him—& the Subject upon which it treats, never could have been published at a Time, when there appeared a greater necessity for something of the kind—15

I never knew greater Electioneering than has been this year—A new Governor—a new Senate—new Representatives— Mr Osgood is chosen to represent H——ll—in the room of Capt Marsh—16

The way to creep into Office at this day is to declaim loudly against a Republican Government—against Salaries—Inferior Courts—Lawyers—& to extoll a paper Currency— This will gain them whole Sheets of Votes—Yes! & in Letters of Gold too—

When I consider of the Motives which have procured many the Suffrages of their Constitutents, & see them taken from among the lowest of the People—I blush, & am ashamed for my Countrymen—The reins of Government must e'er long be drawn closer, & they are preparing for themselves Whips, & Scorpions—

Mr Sparhawk (I believe) must be disconcerted at the Interview you mentioned— Truth may do good, though it is unpleasing to the Ear— It was most certainly a Bow, shot at a Venture—17

I find you entertain the same opinion which we do of Mr Blodget, that is, that he is a queer Creature—I miss him—for he used to be very good to us—

He is a sensible Man, of an Inquisitive turn, & has benevolence enough to wish to apply, & improve his knowledge, for the benefit of Mankind— You may tell him his family are all well if you please, & that his Wife is as well as she was when she lived at Andover but very gloomy—18

So then my dear Neice is like to make me a great Aunt— I have written to her twice since I have had a line from her—19 she is 54cumbered about many things, I suppose— But what a young, blooming Grandmamma you will be— I shall want to look in upon you now more than ever—

My Prayer is, that all may be well—that Peace—Health—& Plenty may ever smile arround, & lighten your Habitation—

I shall not make my usual Visit this Spring— There has been a Disorder among us for these two months past which has struck a dread upon me little less than the Plague—I mean the Throat Distemper— At first it proved very mortal among us, baffling all the Skill of the Phisician—but for this fortnight, there has not any died in the Parish—

It is a most distressing Disorder— Betsy Quincy has been sick with it— But Providence has dealt very favourably with her— She looks finely within a Week—& I cannot but hope that mercy's healing balm is sent down, & that “his rough wind is staid—”20

We have all had something of it, but are better now— Mr Shaw has had a great Task lately—enough upon his head—heart—& hands—for you must think, it must be very grievous to him, to see the Lambs of his Flock cut down—

This Sickness has prevented my writing, & I fear I shall not have an Oppertunity to send this Letter 'till Mr Shaw goes to Election— I shall not dare to leave home, while this Distemper is among us—

And 'till you My dear Sister return more than half the pleasure of my Visit there, will be wanting, to / Your truly Affectionate Sister