Worcester.
DEAR AMELIA,
Your letter——your rattle, rather, came to hand yesterday. I could not avoid smiling at your erroneous opinions; and, in my turn, beg leave to express my wonder at your entertainments in town. True, we have no plays. We are not obliged by fashion, to sit, half suffocated in a crowd, for the greater part of the night, to hear the rantings, and see the extravagant actions of the buskin heroes, (and those not always consistent with female modesty to witness!) We have no card-parties, avowedly formed for the purpose of killing time! But we have an agreeable neighborhood, among which we can easily collect a social circle; and persons of taste, politeness and information, compose it. Here we enjoy a rational and enlivening conversation, which is at once refined and improving. We have no assemblies, composed of a promiscuous crowd of gaudy belles and beaux; many of whom we should despise in a private company, and deem unworthy of our notice. But we have genteel balls, the company of which is select, none being admitted but such as do honor to themselves and each other. The amusement is not protracted till the yawning listlessness of the company proclaims their incapacity for enjoyment; but we retire at a seasonable hour, and add to the pleasure of the evening, that of undisturbed rest through the night. Of course, we can rise with the sun, and sip the nectarious dews, wafted in the aromatic gale. We breakfast before the heat of the day has brought on a languor and deprived us of appetite; after which, we amuse ourselves with our needles, books, or music; recline on the sofa, or ramble in the grove, as fancy or convenience directs. In the shady bower we enjoy either the luxury of solitude, or the pleasures of society; while you are, the whole time, in the midst of hurry and bustle. Eager in the chase, you fly from one scene of dissipation to another; but the fatigue of this ceaseless round, and the exertion of spirits necessary to support it, render the objects of pursuit tasteless and insipid.
Which mode of life, yours or mine, do you now think the most rational, and productive of the greatest happiness? The boarding school, which you affect to despise, has, it is true, formed my taste; and I flatter myself that I shall never wish it altered.
I shall soon return to town; but not for pleasure. It is not in crowds that I seek it. Adieu.
HARRIOT HENLY.
To Miss SOPHIA MANCHESTER.
Concord.
DEAR SOPHIA,
Having been with my aunt Burchel for a fortnight past, I have indulged myself in reading novels; with which her library is well supplied.