A girl's life eighty years ago : $b Selections from the letters of Eliza Southgate Bowne — John Shaqi
A girl's life eighty years ago : $b Selections from the letters of Eliza Southgate BowneBowne, Eliza Southgate
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A girl's life eighty years ago : $b Selections from the letters of Eliza Southgate Bowne
Bowne, Eliza Southgate
Bowne, Eliza Southgate, 1783-1809; United States -- Social life and customs -- 1783-1865
I shall make all the return in my power. I was
going up to Topsham this week. I wish to very much, but Mamma King and
Uncle both going, Nanny would be quite alone, I must stay to comfort
her. As to Aunt Porter I believe she will think I am never coming to
Topsham. I begin to think so myself, but what am I to do? However I
must. I shall go as soon as Uncle returns and stay till I return home. I
want to see Aunt Porter very much. Write me soon and tell me what news
you hear. Love to all. Is Pappa gone to Salem?
ELIZA.
To Octavia Southgate.
To Moses Porter.
My most charming Cousin! Most kind and condescending friend—teach me how
I may express the grateful sense I have of the obligations I owe you;
your many and long letters have chased away the spleen, they have
rendered me cheerful and happy, and I almost forgot I was so far from
home.—O shame on you! Moses, you know I hate this formality among
friends, you know how gladly I would throw all these fashionable forms
from our correspondence; but you still oppose me, you adhere to them
with as much scrupulosity as to the ten commandments, and for aught I
know you believe them equally essential to the salvation of your soul.
But, Eliza, you have not answered my last letter! True, and if I had not
have answered it, would you never have written me again—and I confess
that I believe you would not—yet I am mortified and displeased that you
value my letters so little, that the exertions to continue the
correspondence must all come from me, that if I relax my zeal in the
smallest degree it may drop to the ground without your helping hand to
raise it. I do think you are a charming fellow,—would not write because
I am in debt, well, be it so, my ceremonious friend,—I submit, and
though I transgress by sending a half sheet more than you ever did, yet
I assure you ’twas to convince you of the violence of my anger which
could _induce_ me to forget the rules of politeness. I am at Wiscassett.
I have seen Rebecca every day, she is handsome as ever, and we both of
us were in constant expectation of seeing you for 2 or 3 days, you did
not come and we were disappointed.
I leave here for Bath next week. I have had a ranting time, and if I did
not feel so offended, I would tell you more about it.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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