I have received two letters from you, & suppose you wonder that you have not heard from me much oftener.— we have eight Children in the house all under 14 years age— They are as good as any; but they keep me fully employed; they play hard, & tear their Cloaths so that it is almost impossible to keep them whole.— If it was not the belief, that I am promoting the cause of Literature, instilling into their tender minds a love of Order, the moral, & christian virtues, as far as it is in my power, I should be very unwilling to exert myself as I now do; but in this way I can do more good, perhaps, better answer the end of Creation, & be more extensively useful to my fellow-creatures, than by living a more quiet, & retired life— But if our 443 Boarders were persons of taste, of more years, & more knowledge, I should enjoy life much better, but then I might not do so much good—so I comfort myself, & bear it— But every thing seems a burden since your dear Sisters death. While she was well & smiling by my side, my work was easy— she made every burden light, & pleasant.— She was young, & had been moved from place to place—& it is a great satisfaction to me that those who knew her best, loved her most. She never turned a scornful, or an averted Eye upon the poor, & needy—but wept—that she could relieve no more— Fortitude, & quick sensibility were in her, happily blended—her mind was honest as light—& artless, as pure.

I think (but I may be mistaken) that I have lost your Sister, at a time when I could not have wanted, or missed her more— I know I am very wrong & some might say very foolish to shed so many unavailing tears— But I cannot help it— It now seems as if the opening year, with all its vernal fragrance could have no charm for me—neither the sweet breath of morn, nor song of earliest Bird—Such is the disspirited state of my mind— I try—soar for a while, & then down I sink— What has added greatly to my grief, & anxiety has been the ill state of my dear little Abby— My mind had no sooner got relieved concerning her arm, than she was taken with a slow fever about eight weeks ago, from which she has not yet fully recovered— She has no pain, but sometimes in her head, nor any cough—but yet the fever cannot be quelled—her fever returns every few hours, yet she has a stomack to her food, & is almost as alert as usual—at first she was hoarse with a cold, & in her head— I wish if you could, you would mention her case to Dr Rush— I think it is strange her fever should continue—

What have you done with the Lounger you took out of Haverhill Library? Mr Tucker has called upon me for it— But I have not seen it since you left us—2 Did you not leave it at Mr Abbots?— Mr Abbot is blessed with the birth of a second Daughter— He was so polite as to present me with one of his Thansgiving Sermons—& I think with you, that it has considerable merit. 3 your mode of expression exactly conveys my Idea of the Book. The political sentiments I presume, procured its publication— Some honour is due to the Subscribers, 444 as well as to the Author, because it evinces a spirit of true federalism in them, as well as discernment, & just esteem of their Minister— In this performance there are some beautiful flights of fancy, well expressed— And we find them in all his compositions, But for One who has studied rhetorick, & had so great advantages, I could not but be surprized to see a number of flat sentences, ending with superfluous monosyllibles—such, as “to us—it”—&cce— Such errors in this enlightened age, ought to be avoided even in common conversation—& no publication should be presented to the world, in a dishabille—

Did you hear my Son that Apollo had mistaken the heights of Atkinson for Parnassus?— We can patronize the Muses— The gentle Belinda’s notes, are in perfect Unison with his Lyre— I will send you two of our Haverhill Papers— I think you, & your honoured Uncle, in the hour of relaxation, will be pleased, especially with the piece upon the present Juncture of Affairs4 Your Aunt Adams was so good as to send me a letter of yours, written to her— I was glad to see any improvement in hand writing— I wish you to be very careful of your address & the manner of your closing a letter—every dutiful expression, is particularly due to Your Aunt—both in speaking & writing your stile should be very respectful—no one was ever faulted for this—5 Read the letters of J.Q.A— & T.BA— & observe the respect, the dutiful regard visible through the whole— King Soloman when he rose from his throne, at the presence of his Mother,—did not discover more filial, affection, & true politeness, & decency of manners than is to seen in their writings—6

William, & John A. Smith have enjoyed a good state of health this winter— Last week our Family attended one of the academic exhibitions— Mr Vose has written a Play called Independance Triumphant, or French reception in America—which appeared very well, as performed by his Scholars The play closed with Eulogies, & Benedictions—To those who had been the Instruments of Peace—&cc— I will transcribe a few words—

Maj.) Thanks to the time taught Washinton. Fame on her gilded page shall write the veteran hero’s name.—

Mrs Moreland) Thanks to the sage, Immortal Adams. His praise shall echo from each distant Shore; Myriads, now unborn shall clap their plaudits as he wafts in future years. till his Name be borne aloft beyond the reach of time—

Col.) Thanks to the guardian powers above. May the symphonies of earth mingle with cherubic anthems in the realms of heaven, & 445 one general glow of grateful acclamation make the Universe Resound.—

What a priviledge do our Children enjoy? in being placed at such seminaries of Literature? where they may be trained up to fill with dignity the most important Stations— John spoke Adams & Liberty with energy, & William a part of Mr Otis’s speech in Congress— They will both make admirable Speakers— They send their duty to there Grandpapa—

I am happy to hear by a letter from Mr Bartlet to his Wife, that your conduct is approved of, he spoke of you in very flattering terms— It was a sweet cordial to me, you may be assured a mothers heart would glow with pleasure— But do you think he is a critical discerner? He is an excellent Man, but is he not partial to a Haverhill Youth?— I have not yet seen Mr Thomas Adams— I want to much— The roads are bad now & will be, for there never was so cold, & long a winter since my remembrance— I hope you will escape the Rheumatism, & return before you will imbibe any of the pestilential air of the southward— Mrs Foster was well, & contentedly happy the last time I heard from her— Miss Nancy Harrod One of the lovliest of her sex, has been tarrying with her, & at your Aunts at Quincy for several weeks— On certain unforeseen contingencies hangs the fate of future life— I am no Prophetess, or Sibyl—So I shall not predict—7 You mention the Ladies in Philadelphia as having excellent educations, & highly improved.— I am thankful if any where, the means of obtaining knowledge is upon a more equal scale, for my Sex have been cruelly injured, in the unjust niggardly [distructive?] mode of Education.— Perhaps there is not any thing more pleasing, or truly beneficial to a Youth, than the society & friendship of a virtuous circle, of refined, well accomplished Ladies— But my Son ought you not to be very discreet, & circumspect? &

You enquire after Mr & Mrs Webster, & I have the pleasure of telling you they came here the last of January & tarried with us a month— They appeared very happy & well satisfied with each other— She makes an excellent wife. She studies “household good—which is the female’s dignity & praise”—9 They enquired after you, & were glad you were in so good a situation for improvement— They got home 446 well, we have had letters from them since their return— Capt Webster, & all his family have moved to Landoff, & went up with them, & for the present will live in the same house—10 Mr Josiah Webster is yet here;—he will I doubt not make a very useful Judicious minster—11 It is of the utmost Consequence to have men of Science, & uncorrupted hearts in this profession— The political Wheel, never moved easy under any government, without their aid— In the revolution, & establishment of the present system, they have been powerful Instruments— Take care of thyself my Son, & much is implied in this Injunction12 / by thy Mother

Mr Peabody, Vose, Lydia, & thy little Sister send Love

It is a long time since I have written to you— My mind has been so agitated that I was not fit to write—or in other words, when I sat for a moment, & attempted to write my paper became so blotted, that I was asshamed to send it— Now do not attempt to reason; for I should feel so conscious that its dictates ought to be obeyed, & so little able to comply, that this would prove another source of sorrow— My fears with respect to Abbys arm had no sooner abated, than she was taken with a slow fever— It is nine weeks tomorrow, & she has yet fever fits, & her pulse quick,—yet she has in general good stomack to her food, though I find she soon gets tired of one thing— She has no cough & I begin to think it may be worms that causes the fever now— She has looked so much like her Sister, the clearest red & white I ever saw in a sick person, that it has distressed me, more than I ought to express—

For these three or four days she has been better, I hope upon the recovery— I have contracted a very bad habit— I do not know but it will prove my ruin— It is that of profusely sweating, I find it increases upon me—for this fortnight past, it will stand in drops all over me, perhaps once in an hour or two—& sometimes oftener— you must think it exposes me to colds—& I have got such a one now that I cannot speak loud, only whisper— The Children have got well of theirs & are charming well. The vacation will be in about a fortnight, & I suppose you would have them go in the Stage— I have mended their green clothes, & made hold on as long as I could, for I wanted to have there new ones kept handsome to visit you— I have taken Williams pretty dark coat, he had when he first come, & Jacket, & made new sleves out of the old trousers, & given them to John— His green cloaths are all gone, but Williams does very well yet for him— John wears two garments of any kind to Williams one—& does not look quite so trim neither—but he is a sweet Boy for all this— Yesterday they came home pleased enough—Mamm mam’m, your boarders are all head of the Class in spelling— John does not do himself 448 Justice in his manner of speaking, he is too rough I cannot break him of it— To hear him in another room, I tell him, I should form but an unfavourable opinion of his temper— The modulation of the voice is of much more importance than we are sensible of— The voice is really a good recommendation— By this, if we do not see them, we form an opinion of their manners, breeding, & temper— When do you expect the President? How has the sickness been there this winter? The cold I think, must have been favourable— There is a black coat of Williams I intended to have mended when I was at Quincy, but I forgot it— I will thank you to let it be done, it may do for him to save a better— I wish he did not wear his cloaths out so fast— when he was little he used to be one of the best of Boys—& my neighbours begrudged me my Son—but now he is intolerable— If he does not grow more careful, it will cost him more to live than he has any Idea of— I will thank you to endeavour to convince him of the importance of a prudent, decent Care of everything— I received a very polite, affectionate letter from my dear Nephew Thomas B. A—1 I regret that he cannot make us a visit, but hope he will in the ensuing Summer. Shall I not be so happy as to have one of my Nephews settle in Massachusetts?— O how much happier would my valued friend Mr Cranch have been, could he been contented with the small, sure gains he could have made in Haverhill, than he now is— But he did for the apparent best—so that must comfort him—& be a support to us all let things prove ever so contrary to our expectations & wishes— Do you not want a Candidate for the ministry— Mr Peabody has been nurturing one all winter— Indeed he was his patron through Colledge— He has two now in Cambridge who consider him as their Father—their literary one at least— But this young Gentleman had the sacred Desk as his Object went he went to Colledge— His Character is fair, & his abilities good—his heart excellent, his ministerial qualifications such as I should wish, & esteem He has been a great comfort to me this winter— We are to have a lecture soon, & Mr Peabody will propose him to the association for approbation—

I cannot say that I think it is happy for Miss B. P. that he was unalterably fixed, & his heart firmly engaged before she saw him—2 But we are shortsighted creatures, & see through a dark medium— You have I hear, had a visit from my amiable friend N. H.— I feel very maternally interested in her welfare— She was my Childrens intimate Companion, & friend— she partook of our pleasures, & deeply felt our griefs— A person of so much feeling, taste, & sentiment, with 449 a temper, & heart so much in unison with the Virtues, could not but be admired, cherished, & loved by your Sister

When I began I thought I could not write three lines—but when I once get resolution enough to begin, I never know when to leave of— I have sent Letters on to Mrs smith. I hope they will not be lost— give my love to Sister, & all3