I do not know how our account stands, whether I am indebted for a letter or you, but I shall not be very strict with you; I am always delighted with your letters, whether to me or to Susan; we talk daily of you, and wish for you, and when I think how far you all are from me, I am ready to sit down and weep. We go on much in the old way here—now and then a large party, then a few friends....
After a year’s absence I came yesterday to make a visit to my friends for three days. Our anxiety to hear from you, led me to send to the office this morning for letters; there I found yours of May 31st, containing tidings that my fears had anticipated, as you will find when you receive my last letter. My dear child, you will be again called to severe and afflictive scenes; may you be...
Your Apology for not having written before was accepted by your grandmother. To be attentive to our guests is not only true kindness, but true politeness: for if there is a virtue which is its own reward, hospitality is that virtue. We remember slight attentions, after we have forgotten great benefits; sweetness of temper, easiness of behaviour, and kindness of disposition, are peculiarly...
Your neat, pretty letter, looking small, but containing much, reached me this day. I have a good mind to give you the journal of the day. Six o’clock. Rose, and, in imitation of his Britannic Majesty, kindled my own fire. Went to the stairs, as usual, to summon George and Charles. Returned to my chamber, dressed myself. No one stirred. Called a second time, with voice a little raised. Seven...
I received your letter this day, written from Springfield; this has been a relief to us to hear that you were well, and that your dear mother bore her journey so well. After you left me I felt no restraint upon me, and could give way to all I felt and all I had suppressed; my harp was upon the willow, and my spirits at a very low ebb; I have in some measure recovered them, and follow you daily...
“Delightful praise, like summer rose, That brighter in the dew-drop glows.” They were sweet drops which flowed from the heart to the eyes both of your grandfather and grandmother, when I read to him the two letters you had transcribed to your uncle and to your father, in commendation of your brother. You could not have offered a sweeter incense to your grandfather; and flowing from the pen of...
Yesterday was our Thanksgiving day. In our own way, and with tempers suited to the occasion, we gave thanks for those blessings which we felt had been granted to us in the year past, for the restoration and recovery from dangerous sickness of members of our own family; and, although in one instance we had been called to weep, in many others we had cause of rejoicing. We were in health; we had...
As Dean Swift says, “eyes with writing almost blind,” I commence a letter to you, near ten o’clock at night, after having written seven letters to go abroad by the Milo. I have been wishing to write to you all the week, but last Friday, in a snow storm, who should come to make me a visit, but Mrs. Cushing, who is always a welcome guest; she stayed until Tuesday; I could not leave her to write....
Your Letter, my dear Caroline, gave me pleasure. As all your’s are calculated to enliven the spirits, I take them as a cordial, which during the residence of the baldpated winter and a close confinement to my chamber for several weeks, I have been much in want of. And now what return can I make you—What can you expect from age, debility and weakness? Why, you shall have the return of a...
This morning’s post brought me your letter of the 20th. We were all delighted; grandfather’s tears watered his cheek when he read the letter; Susan skipped with all her warmth and ardour, into every part of the scene. “In joyous youth, what soul hath never known, Thoughts, feelings, taste, harmonious to its own.” S. walked her mile and a half to communicate the grateful tidings; every heart...