I shall anxiously await the arrival of the next mail after you receive
this.
Scarborough, Sept. 14, 1800.
I suppose I ought to commence my letter with an humble apology, begging
forgiveness for past offences and promising to do better in future, but
no, I will only tell you that I have been so much engaged since I got
home from Topsham that I could not write you. Martha tells us you were
in Boston last Sunday. Mamma thinks, Octavia, you are there too much, we
do not know how often, but we hear of you there very often indeed. I
think, my dear sister, you ought to improve every moment of your time,
which is short, very short to complete your education. In November
terminates the period of your instruction. The last you will receive
perhaps ever, only what you may gain by observation. You will never
cease to learn I hope, the world is a volume of instruction, which will
afford you continual employment,—peruse it with attention and candor and
you will never think the time thus employed misspent. I think, Octavia,
I would not leave my school again until you finally leave it. You
may—you will think this is harsh; you will not always think so; remember
those that wish it must know better what is proper than you possibly
can. Horatio will come on for you as soon as your quarter is out. We
anticipate the time with pleasure; employ your time in such a manner as
to make your improvements conspicuous. A boarding-school, I know, my
dear Sister, is not like home, but reflect a moment, is it not
necessary, _absolutely necessary_ to be more strict in the government of
20 or 30 young ladies, nearly of an age and different dispositions, than
a private family? Your good sense will easily tell you it is. No task
can be greater than the care of so many girls, it is impossible not to
be _partial_, but we may conceal our partiality. I should have a poor
opinion of any person that did not feel a love for merit, superior to
what they can for the world in general. I should never approve of such
general love. I say this not because I think you are discontented, far
from it—your letters tell us quite the reverse and I believe it. Surely,
Octavia, you must allow that no woman was ever better calculated to
govern a school than Mrs. Rawson. She governs by the love with which she
always inspires her scholars. You have been indulged, Octavia, so we
have all. I was discontented when I first went from home. I dare say you
have had some disagreeable sensations, yet your reason will convince
you, you ought not to have had. You had no idea when you left home of
any difference in your manner of living. I knew you would easily be
reconciled to it and therefore said but little to you about it.
Yesterday Miss Haskell’s letter, which I so much wished for and so
highly prize, was sent me; tell her to trust no more letters to the
politeness of Mr. Jewett,[13] for he will forget to deliver them; he has
been studying in the same office with Horatio ever since he returned and
never told him he had a letter for me till I told Horatio to ask him. I
did get it at last and will answer it as soon as I have an opportunity,
which I expect soon, my letters are of too little consequence to send by
Post. Tell Miss Haskell how highly I am obliged to her for every letter,
and how much it gratifies me to have her write thus. My love and esteem
ever awaits our good Mrs. Rawson, and hope she does not intend my last
letter shall go unanswered. Susan Wyman is still remembered as the
companion of my amusements in Medford. Irene joins me in love to her.
Betsey Bloom my love to her likewise.—Family are all well, Octavia,
Sister Boyd is here, been with us several days. Let us hear from you
when you have an opportunity. I should like to know how many tunes you
play, but you have never answered any of my enquiries of this kind,
therefore I suppose I ought not to make them. Your