(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 la-
dies; 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 mor-
ning 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 plea-
sures, which you cannot now enjoy. I know very well how
it seems to be when we are absent from places, which once