bellowing, Hamlet would think _he_ was made by one of “Nature’s journeymen.” But it is time to have done with players, for you will think my head turned indeed if I rant about them any longer; but it has served to fill up a part of my letter, and I assure you that alone was a sufficient reason why I should give them a place. Society, bustle, and noise frustrate all my ideas. I cannot write anywhere but at home. I am ashamed that things of so little consequence should turn my head, but ’tis a melancholy truth. O you malicious fellow, don’t talk to me about my favorite topic “female education,” don’t tell me of your _philosophical indifference_! O Moses, you can’t leave the subject, every word that could any way dash at it is marked. I believe you do _itch_ to commence the attack. Well, rail on, you shall not say it is in compassion to me that you desist. God forbid that your greatest enemy should ever inflict so severe a punishment as to prohibit you from speaking of your “favorite topic.” I fancy you have forgotten that it _is_ such, _Mr. Indifference_. Your ironical letter has had a wonderful effect, but perhaps not the desired one. I blush not to confess myself contemptibly inferior to my antagonist. You ought to blush, but from a very different cause; but I had forgotten myself, and was taking the thing too seriously. I am not slow at taking the hint, perhaps my presumption merited the reproof. I receive it and will endeavor to profit by it; and pray, Cousin, how does Mr. Symmes’ coat suit you? His “haughty humility,” his “condescending pride.” You have assumed the habit, and I hope will ever clothe yourself with it when you meet your _superior antagonist_.