I almost at this moment wish myself in your situation, meeting old acquaintances, shaking hands with old friends and telling over with renewed pleasure your College frolicks. I can almost see you convulsed with laughter, hear you recount the adventures of the last year, while imagination brings every boyish frolic to your view, unimpaired by time. What a world of humour! what flashes of wit! what animated descriptions! O these social meetings! How they animate and inspire one! how they lighten the cares and multiply the joys of life! I wish you would write me about Commencement. I heard yesterday that Sam. Fay of Concord delivered an oration the 4th of July. I should admire to see it. I know it must be very fine; in my opinion he is a man of excellent talents, capable of writing on the occasion an oration that would reflect great honor. The sentiments must be noble and generous. He possesses so much feeling, there must be many glowing passages in it. If it is possible I beg you will get me a copy and I will confess myself very, very greatly obliged. Last night I attended the _Theater_,—“Speed the plough” was performed, and I assure you very _decently_; the characters in general were well supported. Villiers in Fannie Ashfield really outdid himself; he threw off the monkey and became a good honest clown, and did not, as he usually does, outstep the bounds of nature and all other bounds. Mrs. Powell as Miss Blandford delighted us all. How I admire that woman! She is perfectly at home on the stage, and yet there is no levity in her appearance; she has great energy, acts with spirit, with feeling, yet never rants; her private character we all know is unexceptionable. Mr. Donnee as a young buck is very pleasing, he has a most melodious voice in speaking, and has a very easy, stylish air,—good figure, tho’ small. As for Mrs. Harper she is my aversion—for, as Shakespeare says, she will “tear a passion to tatters, to very rags,” and she is too indecent ever to appear on the stage. Harper is a fine fellow; he appears best among the common herd of Players, and has as much judgment in supporting his part as any one I ever saw, and even in comic characters I think he excels Villiers. He has much greater resources within himself. Villiers gains applause by distorting his face and playing the monkey, while Harper adheres more strictly to nature. In Villiers we cannot help seeing the player thro’ the thin disguise,—_Villiers_, not the character he personates, is continually in our minds. S. Powell is contemptible as a player (and I believe as a man); he puffs and blows so incessantly that it is enough to put one into a fever to see him; he does not know in the least how to preserve a medium, but takes a certain pitch and there remains; he cannot gradually bring his passion to the height, but he thunders it out without any preparation, and the unvarying monotony of his voice is truly disgusting. I am sure, by his strutting and