1771-1773.
. . . . .
Lady, by which means I had a bit of the wedding cake. I guess I shall
have but little time for journalising till after thanksgiving. My aunt
Deming[1] says I shall make one pye myself at least. I hope somebody
beside myself will like to eat a bit of my Boston pye thou' my papa and
you did not (I remember) chuse to partake of my Cumberland[2]
performance. I think I have been writing my own Praises this morning.
Poor Job was forced to praise himself when no _man_ would do him that
justice. I am not as he was. I have made two shirts for unkle since I
finish'd mamma's shifts.
Nov^r 18th, 1771.--Mr. Beacons[3] text yesterday was Psalm cxlix. 4.
For the Lord taketh pleasure in his people; he will beautify the meek
with salvation. His Doctrine was something like this, viz: That the
Salvation of Gods people mainly consists in Holiness. The name _Jesus_
signifies _a Savior_. Jesus saves his people _from their Sins_. He
renews them in the spirit of their minds--writes his Law in their
hearts. Mr. Beacon ask'd a question. What is beauty--or, wherein does
true beauty consist? He answer'd, in holiness--and said a great deal
about it that I can't remember, & as aunt says she hant leisure now to
help me any further--so I may just tell you a little that I remember
without her assistance, and that I repeated to her yesterday at Tea--He
said he would lastly address himself to the young people: My dear young
friends, you are pleased with beauty, & like to be tho't beautifull--but
let me tell ye, you'l never be truly beautifull till you are like the
King's daughter, all glorious within, all the orniments you can put on
while your souls are unholy make you the more like white sepulchres
garnish'd without, but full of deformyty within. You think me very
unpolite no doubt to address you in this manner, but I must go a little
further and tell you, how cource soever it may sound to your delicacy,
that while you are without holiness, your beauty is deformity--you are
all over black & defil'd, ugly and loathsome to all holy beings, the
wrath of th' great God lie's upon you, & if you die in this condition,
you will be turn'd into hell, with ugly devils, to eternity.
Nov. 27th.--We are very glad to see Mr. Gannett, because of him "we hear
of your affairs & how you do"--as the apostle Paul once wrote. My unkle
& aunt however, say they are sorry he is to be absent, so long as this
whole winter, I _think_. I long now to have you come up--I want to see
papa, mama, & brother, all most, for I cannot make any distinction which
most--I should like to see Harry too. Mr. Gannett tells me he keeps a
journal--I do want to see that--especially as Mr. Gannett has given me
some specimens, as I may say of his "I and Aunt &c." I am glad Miss Jane
is with you, I will write to her soon--Last monday I went with my aunt
to visit Mrs. Beacon. I was exceedingly pleased with the visit, & so I
_ought_ to be, my aunt says, for there was much notice taken of me,
particylarly by Mr. Beacon. I think I like him better every time I see
him. I suppose he takes the kinder notice of me, because last thursday
evening he was here, & when I was out of the room, aunt told him that I
minded his preaching & could repeat what he said--I might have told you
that notwithstanding the stir about the Proclamatien, we had an agreable
Thanksgiven. Mr. Hunt's[4] text was Psa. xcvii. 1. The LORD
reigneth,--let the earth rejoice. Mr. Beacon's text P M Psa. xxiv. 1.
The earth is the LORD's & the fulness thereof. My unkle & aunt
Winslow[5] of Boston, their son & daughter, Master Daniel Mason (Aunt
Winslows nephew from Newport, Rhode Island) & Miss Soley[6] spent the
evening with us. We young folk had a room with a fire in it to
ourselves. Mr Beacon gave us his company for one hour. I spent Fryday
with my friends in Sudbury Street. I saw Mrs. Whitwell[7] very well
yesterday, she was very glad of your Letter.
Nov. 28th.--I have your favor Hon^d Mamma, by Mr. Gannett, & heartily
thank you for the broad cloath, bags, ribbin & hat. The cloath & bags
are both at work upon, & my aunt has bought a beautifull ermin trimming
for my cloak. AC stands for Abigail Church. PF for Polly Frazior. I have
presented one piece of ribbin to my aunt as you directed. She gives her
love to you, & thanks you for it. I intend to send Nancy Mackky a pair
of lace mittens, & the fag end of Harry's watch string. I hope Carolus
(as papa us'd to call him) will think his daughter very smart with them.
I am glad Hon^d madam, that you think my writing is better than it us'd
to be--you see it is mended just here. I dont know what you mean by
_terrible margins vaze_. I will endeavor to make my letters even for the
future. Has Mary brought me any Lozong Mamma? I want to know whether I
may give my old black quilt to Mrs Kuhn, for aunt sais, it is never
worth while to take the pains to mend it again. Papa has wrote me a
longer letter this time than you have Mad^m.
November the 29th.--My aunt Deming gives her love to you and says it is
this morning 12 years since she had the pleasure of congratulating papa
and you on the birth of your scribling daughter. She hopes if I live 12
years longer that I shall write and do everything better than can be
expected in the _past_ 12. I should be obliged to you, you will dismiss
me for company.