taken from a bust. Next Monday I shall begin to read Ovid's Metamorphoses and Eutropius. I shall like to know all the Latin and Greek I can. I want to learn how to measure the stars. I shall not I suppose paint the worse for knowing every thing else. I begun to cypher a fortnight after Christmas and shall go into the rule of three next week. I can teach a boy of sixteen already who was cyphering eight months before me; is he not a great dunce ? I shall go through the whole cyphering book this summer and then I am to learn Euclid. We go to school at nine every morning. Three boys begin with reading the Bible. Then I and two others show our exercises. We then read the Speaker. Then we all set about our lessons, and those who are first ready say first. At eleven we write and cypher. In the afternoon we stand for places at spelling, and I am almost always first. We also read, and do a great deal of business besides. I can say no more about the boys here: some are so sulky they wont play; others are quarrelsome because they cannot learn and are fit only for fighting like stupid dogs and cats. I can jump four yards at a running jump and two at a standing jump. I intend to try you at this when you come down. * We are not all well, for poor Peggy has a great cold. Vaughan's name wrong, for You spelled Mr you spelled it Vaughn. Write soon again. I wish I could see all those paintings that you see, and that Peggy had a good prize. I don't want your old clothes. I shall go to dancing this month. This is all I can say. "I am your affectionate brother, In 1790 my father paid a visit to a friend. of the family at Liverpool, where he stayed some months. The following letters occurred during this visit, and will, I think, be looked upon as possessing considerable interest, exhibiting as they do the successful results of my grandfather's unceasing efforts to instil into his son's mind the same fervent piety, which so distinguished his own character: "DEAR FATHER, "Saturday, March, 1790, "I now sit down to spend a little time in an employment, the productions of which I know will give you pleasure, though I know that * His attached and most excellent sister, who, with my grandmother and my uncle John, still survive. But every minute that I am employed in doing any thing which will be advantageous to me, will give you pleasure. Happy, indeed unspeakably happy, are those people who, when at the point of death, are able to say, with a satisfaction which none but themselves can have any idea of,—I have done with this world, I shall now have no more of its temptations to struggle with, and praise be to God I have overcome them; now no more sorrow, now no more grief, but happiness for evermore! how unspeakably miserable is that man who, when his pleasures are going to end, when his lamp begins to grow dim, is compelled to say, Oh that I had done my duty to God and man; oh that I had been wise, and spent that time which was kindly given me by Providence for a purpose quite contrary to that which I employed it to, as I should have done; but it is now gone; I cannot recal time, nor can I undo all my wicked actions. I cannot seek that mercy which I have so often despised. I have no hope remaining. I must do as well as I can-but who can endure everlasting fire? Thus does the wicked man breathe his last, and without being able to rely upon his good, with his last breath, in the anguish of his soul, says, Have mercy upon me a sinner, O God!· After I had sealed up my last letter to you, George asked me if I were glad the Test Act was not repealed? I told him, No. Then he asked me why? and I told him because I thought that all the people who are inhabitants of a country, of whatsoever sect or denomination, should have the same rights with others.-But, says he, then they would try to get their religion established, or something to that purpose.Well, what if it should be so?-He said that the Church religion was an old one.-Well, said I, Popery is older than that.—But then, said he, the Church religion is better than Popery. And the Presbyterian is better than that, said I. I told him I thought so for certain reasons, not because I went to chapel. But at last when I had overpowered him with my arguments, he said he wished he understood it as well as I did, for I was too high learned for him. I then went to the concert. But as I am now going with George to a Mrs Cupham, I must defer the rest of my letter till another time. I have gotten to the 36th verse, 15th chapter. 66 Monday morning.—I was very much pleased at the concert; but I think Meredith's singing was worth all the rest. When we came out of the concert, which was about nine o'clock, we went to Mrs Chilton's, at whose house we slept. It rained the next morning, but I was not much wet coming home. George was very much wet, and the colour of his coat was almost spoiled. On Wednesday Mr Clegg did not come, as he was confined to his bed. On Wednesday evening Mr Dolounghpryeé came, to whom I was very attentive. I was sorry Mr Clegg did not come on Saturday; but I hope he will come on Wednesday next. Saturday afternoon I and George, with Miss Avis, went to a Mrs Bartton's, who appeared to be an unhospitable English prim "Lady," if such she may be called. She asked us as if she were afraid we should accept it, if we would stay to tea. And at the other English person's, for I am sure she belongs to no other country than to England, I got such a surfeit of their ceremonial unsociality, that I could not help wishing myself in America. I had rather people would tell one to go out of the house than ask one to stay, and, at the same time, be trembling all over, for fear one should take a slice of meat, or a dish of tea, with them. Such as these require an Horace or a Shakspeare to describe them. I have not yet learned the gamut perfectly, but I would have done it if I could. I spent a very agreeable day yesterday, as I read 160 |