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(seq. 1)
Cambridge May 12th 1795
William,
When a person is separated from his intimate friends, I think nothing is so agreeable to him as receiving letters from them. Impressed with these sentiments, I thought it would afford you some pleasure to hear from your chum. You are now, it seems, keeping school, and taking care of the young ladies; a very agreeable employment. Be careful however; and remember it is Spring. Don't let them soften you too much; but keep within proper bounds. Well, I suppose you visit now and then Beacon hill, and view with an ardent wish the seat of science. Don't be discouraged, William, you will soon return, and see your old study; and that willow which delights you so much in the Summer. Mr Manning's garden begins to assume a verdant appearance, The little birds flutter, as thought they wished to see their absent friend; and chirp upon your favorite willow. You can't think how agreeable everything appears. In the morning we arise at half past four, and walk till we feel fit for study. I will not however excite too much desire in you by putting you in mind of fomer scenes, and mentioning pleasures, which you cannot now enjoy. I know very well how it seems to be when we are absent from places, which once
(seq. 2)
delighted our minds. This week we are diving into [illegible] the depth of Euclid's demonstrations. We have studied 6 propositions. Barron gave us a fine lecture upon it when we first went in. He says that Euclid is generally esteemed a dry study, but he thinks it quite moist; and if we attend to a few of the first propositions, we shall meet with very little difficulty. Every proposition, he says, is closely connected wtih the preceding ones; so that if we miss one, we shall be continually [in?]involved in ignorance. Mr. Pearsons you know has given us a piece of Latin poetry to translate. I should send you a copy of it, if Church did not intend to. Your last translation was not delivered to Gardner. Mr. Pearsons, I suppose, knew you were not in town. Some of the seniors begin to tremble for parts; next saturday will decide the affair. Then they will receive rewards or punishments according as they have done good or bad.
Perhaps you would wish to know how our societies come on. I believe we meet tomorrow night in one of them. An ora. will, I suppose be delivered, and some of the freshmen be admitted. I don't know yet who will be chosen first. The other goes on as usual. -- When you have read so far in this letter, I fancy you will be sincerely tired. Well I shall write only this side down. What shall I put in to fill it up, Let me think. Oh! I believe it is almost filled up now. I will say only this one thing, I believe, -- Would you? no I wont,
I am your sincere friend. David.
William.
(seq. 3)
Daniel Bates. Cambridge May 12th, 1795.
Mr William Jenks. Usher at Mr. Webb's school
Boston.
(seq. 4)
Princeton, November — 1795.
William,
The rock is there yet. Leonard and I have been studying near it to day. He declares that he can write a letter sooner than I. Now I am going to try. Nonsense heaped upon nonsense. No matter L [Til?] I can only beat him. Well, we have had a fine vacation. We have visited and studied. We have talked and walked. We live as happy as kings. The other day we were at Mr Mason's. Sally, Lucretia Mirick, & Polly Harrington were there. We had a noble time. In the evening we broke the Pope's neck &c. Leonard presented Polly Harrington with that which resembled a spark in name and feeling; & she was to quench it. What do you think of that. Well, what shall I say next. I am quite run out. Why I have a terrible parcel of things to say and yet I can say nothing. Here comes in Leonard's father
(seq. 5)
What do you think he says. Why he says have you solved it yet. Solved what? I say to him. Why solved that diagram. He turns round and goes out again without saying a word more. Oh, he has lately been reading Mirebeau. After he had read along some way, & found out what he was driving at, he came and laid down the book, and said, "I dont like him one bit," and away he marched out again. "Neckar, he says, has solid argument in it." — What next. O know I suppose you would like to know something about the bower &c. You know the tree, which hangs over the rock of absence. [illegible] It does not look as it did last summer. Its leaves are withered and scattered round the place where your bower once stood. The little trees, which formed the bower, have fallen down. The tre rocks, which you used for seats, still remain. I went up the other day and sat down there. But it seemed like the remembrance of joys that are past, although I had not tasted those joys. You know that tree, which they supposed had honey in it. It was cut down the