Helen Hunt Jackson 1-1-27 transcription

Helen Hunt Jackson Papers, Part 1, Ms 0020, Box 1, Folder 27, Letters to Deborah Waterman Vinal Fiske (HHJ's mother) from various people, 1828-1845 and not dated
Transcribed by Gloria Helmuth, July 1996

Addressed: Miss Deborah W. Vinal, Boston, Mass, Mr. Oswald

Lanesborough September 1828

My dear Deborah,

I will improve this favourable opportunity in telling you, how much I thank you for your letter received while at Northampton, confined to my chamber & unable to speak. - it came just after a visit from my physician - who beside applying two large blisters to my throat, with his delicate hand & life restoring (or destroying) instrument, the lancet & he was as bad as his word - Oh Deborah, I had a seige of it, indeed, 10 long days - unable to leave my room - & three weeks the house - away from home - among kindred - & friends kind ones too. - but after all "there is no place like home" - no care like that of a mothers - she is unwearied - untiring - in her assiduities; but I think this little frusation has taught me how to pride these invaluable blessings. I returned to Lanesboro as soon as I was able to ride, found my mother & sister waiting rather impatiently my arrival - they left yesterday morning - & tuesday next I follow them. I feel more anxious to return on account of my health, than I otherwise should. I have a very troublesome cough & lame shoulder, which I begin to feel that I have too long neglected, it my lungs seem to be a good deal affected, & very weak - indeed Deborah I have some dismal forebodings of the future - but enough of myself. And now how do you all do in Hancock Street? does your guest still continue with you - about what time do you become his? I sincerely hope all your bright anticipations will be realized & more than realized. I shall ever feel a deep interest in your welfare - & it will give me heart-felt pleasure dear Deborah, to hear from you as often as convenient, do think of me sometimes these long winter evenings - that are just at hand - which seated by your own fireside, busily plying the needle - your husband by your side, reading, yourself & father attentive auditions. - these are but the outlines of one of your pictures of domestic happiness. I leave it for you to fill up.

We attended the ordination of Mr. Tappan at Pittsfield yesterday - the exercises were interesting - sermon by Dr. Griffin. Deborah, what would you give to see our precious one - pig tolmondo - alias Sarah B.Hooker? She grows as fast as ever, indeed she is a beautiful child. Sitting aside my partiality. I would gladly fill these pages - but writing does not agree with me - Martha will however, which will be better by far.

You promised to exceed the writing if it were ever so bad - you will remember this - & the promise you made, that no one but yourself should ever see my letters.

My love to your Uncle & Aunt Vinal & Mrs. Walker - and believe me dear Deborah, yours with much affection.

Sarah.

Addressed: Mrs. D.V. Fiske, Amherst, Mass. Postmarked: Hartford, CT. DEC 22

[1828?]

I have for sometime been deliberating in my mind, how I should commence my letter to you whether with a "dear Deborah" or "Dear Mrs F...." or plain "Mrs F"... but as I do not understand enough of etiquette to decide I shall dismiss the letter prefatory line altogether and enter upon the subject of my letter, which is to call you to an account for breach of promise. I have somewhere read that the Jews suppose that when people are married they are absolved from all the sins of their past lives. I do not know but you suppose that matrimony in a similar manner absolves from all past engagements - But I must take this opportunity of informing that I am very far from considering this to be the case & moreover that I am determined that all engagements made to me either before or after marriage shall be sacredly & inviolably kept. But seriously my dear D -- do you never intend writing me again - or are you about to begin as all married folks do to give up all your former friends? I am sure if I thought that all my friends would adopt the same course I should be a most firm & decided enemy of matrimony in all its forms.

But a truce to scolding - (although as that is now to be your vocation a lesson or two in the art might not be much amiss) my object in writing is to enjoy a few moments of chit chat with you in old style. In the first place how are you situated - a very natural question which you will think, I supposes admits of but one answer. How much extra dignity have you assumed in your new station. How do you like Amherst - the situation, people, colledges, institution, husband & all. I have really a benevolent curiosity in endeavoring to ascertain. How do you spend your time - in literary or domestic occupations? - now when you write you must answer all these questions and add as much more information gratis as can come without double postage. As for myself, I am the most literary young lady in the Union. All my time except Saturday & Sunday evenings is employed in study - & those are devoted to correspondents, & if it would edify you at all to know what I am studying I can answer you in brief that it is Latin Rhetoric & Italian. I feel very much like little girls when they first go to school who you know always can make out half a page of their letters with the list of what they are studying.

For my part I think that the Teachers here study much more than the scholars - because they not only must know all that they do - but have more to communicate to them. Our term is divided into period of six weeks each and we calculate to finish a class in those Studies in that time. My studies for the last term were Rhetoric Grammar & Latin. for the next they will be very much the same if you only write Mental Philosophy in the place of Grammar.

I really do not know how interesting these details of my School plans may be to you, but you know we are apt to fancy that this will feel some degree of interest in what interests us. In return for my communicativeness you can if you please send me some of your plans relative to the making of soap and candles or pickles - which will prove equally entertaining to me. By the bye, there is one very interesting question which has of late occupied much of my attention. I believe it is the law that all the possessions of married people should become common property - now what I wish to know is whether this law extends to letters received by the lady after the ceremony because if it does I shall be extremely careful for the future to write more respectable looking letters.

Have you heard from or written to E. Homes or Martha & Mary Evarts lately? Do you know I fell quite in love with the two latter during my last visit to Boston and really long to go back that I may be better acquainted. As for Elisabeth she is holding her tongue to me as "wiser maids" have done before her. I shall begin to suspect that there is some Professor at the bottom of the business if I do not hear soon

For a miracle I am out of debt to all my correspondents & some of them are as deeply indebted to me as three sheets of nonsense written at sundry times can make them. I am now in fair sight of the conclusion of my letter & will leave a little piece for you to write an application on. So farewell. Your affectionate

H. Beecher.

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah W. Fiske, Boston, Mass. Mr. H. Homes

[Saturday] Newton, January 17, 1829.

I was very happy once more to receive a letter, short as it was, from my old friend and correspondent Deborah, though instead of "Vinal", another name not so familiar to me, is added to Deborah. Though we must each allow the other to give husbands the first place in our hearts, yet I agree with you in thinking that no reason "for loving each other less" -- Well, then my dear Deborah, I will formally renew all the professions I formerly made, as I feel them as much, and, if you agree to it, our correspondence shall be again renewed. You must not scold me, or cease to love, if sometime elapses between my letters, as you will remember, I have a whole parish to visit, while you have only a few select friends.

With regard to my visiting Boston, while you are there, I am much afraid it will not be in my power, while you are there. I expect to visit Medford week after next, and perhaps Boston may be taken in my way, though this is not my present calculation. It would gratify me much, if you could ride to Newton, and make a longer call, than you did last summer. If I kept house, I should insist upon a visit.

I am still much pleased with my situation. My greatest trial is, I am unable to visit, as much as I could wish, and the people do not call upon me, as I want them to. They say, "if I kept house, they should come more". But Deborah, we must not expect unalloyed happiness in this world, and do you wish for it? You speak of "Mr. Bates's sickness". I suspect, you have heard some exaggerated account. He has not been very sick this winter. His old complaint has been troublesome, but I have now great hopes, it is essentially better, and that he will soon be quite recovered. Two months since, his voice failed him two Sabbaths, and I began to think he must relinquish preaching. He had a bad cold, and since then, he has finished his sermons, though when he preaches in the afternoon, he is some troubled. Some medicine he is now trying, evidently does him good. I have been much tried, with the thought, that he might be obliged to relinquish preaching. I know, I am not fit for the wife of a minister, but it was painful to think of not being one now.. Much was formerly said to me of the trials of a minister's wife. As I can now judge for myself, I must say, the trials are nothing to what I expected. Deborah, there are so many pleasures to counteract these, they appear nothing -- There are so many ways and opportunities to do good, not attendent on any other situation, and the pleasure is so great of thinking your husband is doing good, and is beloved by his people, you would forget the little trials. Do you have many opportunities to do good, as a professor's wife.

We feel encouraged as it respects the religious state of our society, I feel as though there would soon be a revival here. Oh! that it might be so. The most encouraging symptom is, the Church appear to be waking up. Next week on Friday, we are to have a Church fast. These have been blessed by God in other places, and I do hope ours will be blessed. I have never been in a place, where they had a Church fast, but have supposed them very solemn seasons. The female prayer meetings in this society are very interesting. They have them in different neighborhoods. Do you have one at Amherst? It is thought, those meetings here have been instrumental of much good. My dear Deborah, does it seem to you, that the welfare of immortal souls is in some degree dependant upon you? Oh! do pray for your unworthy Emily, that she may not be found unfaithful, at the great and solemn day of account.

There are some trying circumstances, connected with my dear husband's situation here, which would not exist in other places - but I do not think there is any probability of our leaving Newton at present. I want to be, where I can be doing some good, or at least tying to do some. Perhaps at some future day, we may live near each other. You may be assured, this would be very pleasant to me, but of what consequence is it, when we pass this short life, if we are only prepared to spend eternity together in heaven.

I looked many pleasant days for your dear cousins, the Misses Scholfields, but looked in vain. I did hope to have seen them here. And Mary and Martha too. Only think I have been in Newton 7 miles from Boston, and not one call have I had from any of my friends there, excepting yourself. I sometimes enquire, why is it? Remember me affectionately to your Aunt S. and Cousins, and Mary & Martha V.

Mrs. Sewall is now in Boston at Mr. Hardy Ropes. It would not be different from my anticipation, if she should not live until spring. I have not seen her this winter, but she is said to become weaker fast, and her cough still continues very distressing. She is an interesting woman, and on account of her three little children, it seems to me very desirable, her life should be spared. Her Mother is now with her, and Elisabeth passes the winter there.

I have received no letter from Charles this long time. I will deliver your message to him when I write. He does not love to write letters. -- I must thank you for the piece of cake you left for me. I valued it much, as coming from you -- It would not have been strange, if you had forgotten me at that time. I should not have blamed you.

Remember me to your Uncle and Aunt Vinal and little Martha, most certainly, not forget to add love to Mr. Fiske likewise. Tell him from me, he does not yet know what a prize he has. Mr. Bates sends love to you and Mr. Fiske. Have you forgotten the evening, I passed with you, when our hands were so bound together? I should think our Uncle and Aunt would want you cheer them, some of these long winter evenings.

If I do not see or hear from you, before your return to Amherst, let me then receive a long letter soon, and you may believe, I shall always rejoice to receive them, and to hear of your welfare. Tell me all about your situation, joys and sorrow.

May much happiness, my dear Deborah, be your lot here, and may we both, after being blessings to our dear husbands, and the Church below, be members of Christ's Church above is the sincere prayer and wish of

Your friend Emily A. Bates --

I do not usually sign my whole name, but as you are a fashionable lady, and signed all yours, I follow your example - only think, what an influence, you have over me!

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah V. Fiske. Amherst, Mass.

[Tuesday] Boston. June. 30th 1829.

My dear Mrs. Fiske,

I had resolved to devote this evening to prepare a letter for you, but just as I was ready to commence writing, I heard the voice of our good friend, Mrs. Washburn, & knew that she was coming to sit a little while with me in my room to lessen the hours of my solitude. The best part of the evening has now passed away, the clock struck nine some time since, & drowsiness reminds me that my usual time for retiring has come, but as I promised your aunt that "I would write," & desire to send you some little token of remembrance, I will favour you with a dull & sleepy letter.

I regretted very much that I was absent last winter when you were in town, for I anticipated much pleasure in seeing you. I hope, however, that we may be permitted at some future time to meet again, & that we may have many new mercies to acknowledge from the hand of our Heavenly Father. Let us not for a moment cease to be grateful that we have been led to look to God as to a father, & that we may at all times & in all circumstances ask, & expect from Him all those special blessings which we would desire a tender parent to bestow.

I rejoice with you that your aunt & cousin can visit you this summer, & cheer you for so many days with their society. May you enjoy all the happiness you have anticipated, & that I think must be to enjoy a great deal.

I should try to send you some scraps of news, only that you will have an opportunity of taking over with your friends all that is interesting in the present state of affairs in Boston.

I wish much to become acquainted with Mrs. Abbott, as I have heard that she was one of your Amherst friends. She is now in town, but I have not seen her. Mrs. Hill & Martha Evarts called on her a few days since.

Yesterday, Martha entered upon the duties of her office, as assistant in Mr. Abbott's school.

Mrs. Hooker will tell you that I have had the happiness of hearing from my husband, & that I am, in a day or two, to receive letters giving the particulars of his travels, &c. Could I be transported to Amherst with my pacquet of letters, it would give me pleasure to read you some extracts, & receive your sympathy in return. My dear little Henry is well, & is no small comfort to me in the absence of his father.

Were you not pleased to hear that Mr. Green & Mary were engaged? I feel as much interested in this engagement as I did in yours.

I intended to copy for you a few lines that I sent to Mrs. Hooker a year or two since, but have not the time this evening. If I write you again I will send them.

Let me assure you that ever & at all times I shall be happy to hear from you. My interest in your welfare will not, I trust be diminished by absence.

Please present my respects to your husband, & think of me as

your sincerely affectionate friend.

E.H. Anderson.

Addressed: For Mrs. Deborah W. Fiske, Amherst, Mass, To The care of Prof. Fiske.

[Sunday] Boston, October 11, 1829.

My dear friend,

Your aunt Vinal has just put the accompanying letters into my hand and requested me to give them to a lady in our neighbourhood going to A. in the A.M. and I cannot refrain from sending you a few words with them, although it is the holy sabbath, and contrary to my usual practice to write on this day, but I have just heard of this opportunity and do not know when there will be an other. -- When I left Amherst, I fully intended to write you, but before I had done it, I heard that you were sick, I then thought, I would defer it until you were better. I felt rejoiced that you had been preserved and, that you were the mother of a darling babe, but I did not once think that your little precious one was loaned to you for so short a time. I truly sympathize with you and Mr. Fiske in his disappointment of your hopes. Though deeply afflicted, I know you feel it is right. God has taken your dear infant from a world of disappointments and sorrows before it had tasted the bitter cup and now it is happy - forever happy; safe in its heavenly home. How many evils has it escaped and how many sins. There is a great company of these little glorified beings in heaven and there song of redeeming love is a sweet song.

Though God has afflicted you, dear Deborah, he is still your Father -

"Afflictions all his children feel;
He wounds them for his mercy's sake,
The wounds to heal."

My visit to you, was a delightful one; such interviews are scattered along through lifes pathway and they are precious in recellection.

My ride was very pleasant, the day I left you. We arrived at Barre at 3 P.M. instead of 9, as you had predicted -- When I was A. I thought you had every thing of an earthly nature to make you happy - and a mind and heart too, capable of enjoying the refined pleasures, with which you are surrounded. How pure and beautiful; how exalted should our thoughts be when our heavenly father has done so much for us. -- Perhaps dear Deborah you would have set your heart too much much on your earthly home and happiness had you not, by this despensation of Providence, been warned, that this was not your home. --

Do excuse me, my dear friend, if I have said too much, for I meant it all in love.

Were it not the sabbath I could say many things, but I ought not today. Catharine sends much love to you - You have a sincere friend in my father, I believe, I never heard him express more affectionate regard for one of my friends than for you.

I trust your health is restored, shall you not come to B. this winter? - our friend Elizabeth is engaged to be married, you will hear particulars. Will you not write me? Will you not sometimes pray for me, I do need the prayers of my Christian friends; I feel that I cannot, I must not live without an interest in the Saviour.

My kindest regard to Mr. Fiske, his kindness to me, a stranger, won upon my heart. Also to your sister remember me affectionately,

Sincerely your friend

Mary Jenkins.

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah Fisk, Amherst, Mass.

[Sunday] Boston Oct 11. 1829

Dear Mrs. Fisk,

Your gem, I hear is deposited, but is it not because God is making up his jewels? I too have lost a son - & though the lenient hand of time has wiped away my tears, they come again, when I heard of your sorrow -- your all, of ofspsring was reentered in that little book -- with me, the wreck was not so total -- (even now, my foot rocks the cradle of an infant Baxter.)

We bless the Lord on your account, that he enables you to say "It is well." Yes my dear Sister, I trust it is well with you, well with thy husband, well with the child. May your life & health be precious in Gods sight. May you find it equally good, to sit under the shadow of his wings, as in the bright shining of health & prosperity. In feebleness, as well as in strength, the christian finds it good to bless & praise the Lord. But we must, O we must, be made better when the hand of God touches us! Is it not as the hand of a parent, who seems to say 'My son, my daughter, consider thy ways & be wise.

Our dear Mrs. Anderson feels for you - she still sings of mercy, but her husband is in a strange land, & we know not how soon her harp may be upon the willows - my husband too, & my first born are in New York.

When news of your confinement I came - I ran to Mrs. Abbott that she might joy with you, for together had we talked of you with great interest.

Our friend Martha Evarts, is at the South for her health. Hope predominates with her family, but I feel solicitous. O that the Lord would sanctify this dispensation of his providence & cause her to evince every christian feeling. Mary is on the eve of an interesting event.

With kind regards to any friends who may enquire
I remain your sympathising
friend & sister

Laura P. Hills

Addressed: Mrs. Fiske, Care of Prof. Fiske, Amherst, Mass.

[Monday] Boston October 26th 1829.

I resolved this morning, my dear friend, that this day should not slip away, as many a day has done, finding me, at its close, still wishing and resolving to write to you, if it were only a few lines to assure you of my remembrance and deep sympathy, for your recent trials and afflictions, -- I was just preparing to write when your Aunt kindly called to inform me of an opportunity, which I most gladly embrace, for sending to Amherst.

A less kind heart than yours would have laid up heavy charges against me for negligence, perhaps for forgetfulness of old friends; but my silence has arisen from causes, which, were we together, I could explain, rather than from any want of sympathy. I have often been with you in spirit, since our seperation, and have heard with deep interest of your health, safety, and recently, of your sufferings, with strong and peculiar feelings of solicitude. I had hoped and prayed, my dear friend, that you might be spared the sufferings I went thro in a similar situation but "God seeth not as man seeth", and has is indeed continually and strongly reminding us that in the hour of the brightest and fondest hopes he can turn one joy into heaviness; but the support you have had in this season of affliction, and the acquiescence you feel, ought to give us the assurance that he chastens you as one of his children, and that this dispensation will work for good. I do hope you are progressing in recovery, and will soon be able to leave your chamber for the parlour, or if this second summer continues a little time longer, you will be able to gain some strength by air and gentle exercise, but trust you will be very careful in making any change. Experience tells me how very necessary it is, and I feel much gratitude to many kind friends at A. to whose care I owe so much.

We are anticipating much happiness from having yourself and Mr. Fiske so near us for a part of the coming winter. I hope though your health & strength will be quite restored, though if you do come to us an invalid it will give me indeed much pleasure to have you again for a neighbor. The wish often rises that I could do as much to cheer some of your lonely hours as you used to mine, and which kindness contributed so much to my happiness while at A.

Mrs. Hill often speaks of you, as indeed do numerous friends, with warm affection & regard -- She has had quite a sick family, but they are on the recovery. Mr. Hill's health is decidedly better and a journey, taken recently, to Albany.

The schools seem at present to go on well. Mr. Young seems much interested in his, and his number of pupils is increasing. I feel much inclined to pass a part of every morning in the school under Mr. A.s charge, particularly since Miss Leach has been his assistant, as she is a very entrusting companion. She now boards with us, and I find it very pleasant to have some one with me to whom I can often speak of you. She desired her affectionate remembrance to you. She has seen severe afflictions since you have met with her, having lost, within a year, two sisters, and having experienced some solicitude as to her situation. She seems now pleased with her present one, which I trust will not impose too arduous duties, for her health is too delicate to allow of great effort. She will, I think, exert a strong religious influence in the school, and is calculated to win the affection & respect of the scholars.

Will you remember me to Mr. F. & your sister, whose presence now must be a great comfort to you; -- also to many others of the circle in A. -- to whom you know I feel strongly attached.

The accounts from Miss Evarts and Mrs. Washburn are favourable and encourage their friends to hope much benefit to the health of the former.

We have been interrupted continually this afternoon by company, and Mr. A. has left it in charge with me to dispatch this our letters immediately, -- so I must close forthwith, -- with earnest wishes for your entire recovery - and a hope that we may welcome you ere long to Boston, believe me Yours affly,

H.N Abbott

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah W. Fiske, Amherst, Mass.

[1830] Wednesday, P.M. January 13th

My dear Deborah,

It requires some resolution, to read over your last letter, with its fair anticipations, and think of the bright hope it expected of soon enjoying much of your society, without having a good crying spell, like those which I was want to relieve my feelings in the days of childhood. To think that I should have been so disapointed. I laid by your letter, thinking "I will not answer it now, for I shall so soon see her, and now to look at it, brings back all the visions I had formed of pleasure in seeing & conversing with you. It seems like a dream that you have been here & gone -- and that I who so seldom leave Boston, should have passed many weeks in the country, in December, and during your visit too, is quite provoking. I heard too, on Friday when I came in town, first that you were gone - secondly, that you were out of town & would not return till Saturday night so I did not go to see you till Monday. Does it not seem as if my evil genius had exercised a more than usual influence over me that week? Your kind note was the best consolation I could have received. I thank you much for it, & for the precious relic enclosed - I had looked over vols. of old bound periodicals of that day for it & for others of a similar interest but had never been able to find them. It was a singular coincidence that both events should have been recorded in the same paper. You must have been very young for I was not born till 3 years after my mother's marriage. She met with the same a similar affliction to that which you, my dear friend, have been called to pass through in losing her first dear infant. I have often wished most earnestly, that my little sisters could have been spared but perhaps it is well, one of her children is forever safe. I have thought much of you, my dear friend, in your affliction, a deep affliction, to a mother's heart indeed it must be, to part with a sweet infant, but still the hopes of immortality, of a blessed eternity, therewith shed unclouded brightness, upon an infant's grave, that we ought not to lament their early removal from this sinful, miserable world - There is no idea more delightful to me than that of a little one removed in its innocence, from this dark vale of tears, to the world of light and love and its mind expanding in an atmosphere of moral purity brought up as it were, in the immediate presence of its Saviour, & in the society of angels and the spirits of the just made perfect. Oh, my beloved friend, what brighter lot could a mother choose for her first born son? -- There is a beautiful piece of poetry, which you have perhaps seen which often comes to my mind when I think of you-- anticipating the feeling of the mother, when after many years, she should look back upon the removal of her little one - is thus expressed then:

"I look around to see
The evil ways of men
And Oh! beloved child
I'm more than reconciled
To thy departure then.

God took thee in his mercy
The lamb untouched, untried
He fought the fight for thee
He won the victory
And thou are sanctified.

How beautiful the character of the Saviour appears in relations to these little lambs of his flock. Particularly when we think of the millions which die in heathen lands, where they would have been brought up in ignorance of Him & to whom early death is certainly a most peculiar blessing.

Many questions in your last letter you probably have been able to answer from your own observation during your late visit. Did you see, as you said you wished to, the gentleman who are going to steal my dear Bowdoin Place friends? I would almost believe Elizabeth was already stolen for I have not seen her these 6 weeks but Dorcas & I meet very often. As teachers in the same Sabbath School we manage to have considerable intercourse notwithstanding the rules of our school, are very strict. There is the walk to meeting you know, and a few minutes talk by the stove. We meet too at the Sewing Circle & our dear, dear Tuesday Lecture, though I have not attended that regularly this fall & winter. They are as interesting as ever. Mr. B. has just finished explaining the 8th of Romans. Our sewing circle flourishes well as well as could be expected as we have not taken any pains to increase our numbers. You know our object was rather to have a social, friendly circle, than to have a very large society. I wish you could meet with us once. We shall feel the departure of E & D to, very much in our little meeting. I have never loved D. so much as the last year. She has become very dear to me & I dread parting with her more than I can express but not more than you can feel. I have had no opportunity as yet to become acquainted with Mr. W or B. They are both very sedate looking personages - and are said to be very sensible agreeable men. Mrs. B. is a poet, that is certainly one delightful ingredient in the composition of a friend. I believe the rest of our Park St. girls are stationary for the present, but I have done placing any dependance upon their continuing here. Truly this is not there "abiding city," and I have learnt by wofal experience, that I "know not what a day may bring forth." Mrs. Beecher is an invaluable acquisition to our society - was not you delighted with her. Her society is the only one on which I dare to depend for any length of time. I loved her very much as Isabella Jones last winter, and you know her being the wife of our minister would not have a tendency to decrease my affection for her. You ask about our S. School & tract society. Our school is in a flourishing condition although the new school under Park St. has stolen some of our pupils. I have some of the scholars that I had a year ago & some new ones. At our last Teacher's meeting we had a resolved process to visit in every house in our district of the City. My part is Marion St. with Bradford Place, but one of the teachers whose health is not good, is to accompany me if able.

I dread the undertaking, and wish most ardently, that visiting would be struck out of the list of S.S. duties. The tract society I feel much interested in, as anything of the kind, like my office very well. I went out to get my tracts the day you left Boston. they are all arranged in the front parlour on a great table - and make a grand display. I wish you could just call in & take a peep - We have been up to Kate Walley today to remind her of her duty to write a letter to Ceylon to accompany the present of a set of vols. which you may remember was voted to be sent, the last time you honoured us with your presence you see how the treasurer expedites business. --

What have you been reading lately, that you would recommend to me? I have begun Dwights' travels, but do not know as I shall ever have patience to finish them. -- I have seen but very little of Mrs. Abbott, she looks like a lovely woman. How much must you feel the loss of her society. I ought not to wish you to have such a lovely place at Amherst, but I cannot help often asking myself. "Is it not possible that at some future, not very distant, time Deborah, our own dear Deborah Vinal, may come back again for good and all" as the children say." I should be delighted to come & see you but dare not look forward to such a pleasure. Should an opportunity ever offer, when Aunt Wright is going to North Hampton, for a few days, or should my father's business had him in that direction, I might avail myself of your kind invitation, and come in upon you unawares.

Mother and the babe are very well, we call it Louise Sewall, for my brothers wife, whose death you perhaps remember. She is a sweet little girl, healthy & quiet. & we begin to love her as well as her brothers and sisters. Do write me, very soon, if your health and occupations will permit. Oh! I had so much so very much to say to you when you came to Boston, but the time has gone by - as all my time & opportunities do without being improved. -- If I could but pass one day with you, this winter, I would not ask for more but it cannot be. You do not know how uselessly my time passes over. You will say, "there is enough to do if you had a will to do it" I know it, but still though I wish to improve every moment hours, days & months pass and nothing is accomplished. Now, my dear friend excuse me for troubling you with this confession, but I know you always had the happy talent, of accomplishing much. I will not say all that should be accomplished because I know you would be cortial of me, but very much indeed compared to me, & will you tell me how it is to be done. If you would, you would confer the highest possible

obligation upon your unworthy friend. I wish you would tell me too how you manage to secure the attention of your little S. Scholars. This quite beyond my power. I hope you will write soon to your affectionate

Mary Cawhire

It is not too late yet to wish you a happy New Years. May many happy useful years be your lot here, my dear Friend, and each one find & learn you will never, never prepared for that Eternity in which there divining of time shall be known no more. - & which you & all your beloved christian friends shall be united to part no more. Adieu, my dear, dear friend. Do write whenever you can.

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah W. Fiske, Amherst, Mass

[Thursday] February 4th [1830]

The enclosed, my dear Deborah, was written to send by an opportunity which has passed by, it is of rather of ancient date but as it contained nothing which pretended to be news, and as I am in debt to several of my correspondents, I thought you would excuse me for not writing a new letter - instead of sending you that. I have most sadly injured its outward appearance by my endeavor to impress a "Forget me not" upon the seal - have only succeeded as you percieve far enough to leave a memento of my own clumsiness. Have you heard of the misfortune which has befallen us? the loss of Hanover Church with its Tract Depository, Missionary Rooms. Mary and various wore the expressions of feeling upon the occasion as tho bystanders were well or ill disposed to the church and its minister. There never was so general a distribution of tracts I believe since the Society was established. They were carried from the north end to the south - particularly the one entitled "Tis all for the best" was most widely distributed. The papers of the Miss. Soc. I believe were saved but the loss of the tract society is estimated I believe at more than $5000. However perhaps there may be more good done by the tracts than if they were left to the discretion of the usual distributors - Sometimes offence is taken at a tract given by a christian friend, as if it were a personal reproof there surely can be no such feeling. When the wind carried them "where it []." My mother is very well for her dined below to day for the first time & the baby grows finely. You see you are indebted - to my carelessness - for quite an [ ] upon the envelope though I should not wonder if you should think there was quite enough (such as it was) in the inside. I have done as much usually do - around the old adage - and made upon in quantity - what was wanted in quality. Do write me so on a good, long letter, and you will much oblige your affectionate Mary Cawhire.

Addressed: Mrs. D.W. Fiske, Care of Prof. Fiske, Single. Amherst, Mass, Postmarked: Boston MS, MAY 21

[Wednesday] May 12, 1830 --

Dear Mrs. Fiske,

I seldom have received a little letter about little girls, (for your kind favour was not a mere note), that interested me more than that just received from Amherst. My husband, to whom I always look for direction, bids me day, that by writing to Rev James Ely, Cornwall, Conn. your list of inquiries respecting the children of the Sandwich Island Missionaries, will be fully & correctly answered, as he has lately returned from there. My love to your Juvenile circle -- I do indeed love them -- I shall remember them in my prayers, and perhaps at some time, write them a letter.

And now my friend, may I ask you to write a letter to my afflicted, widowed sister in [ ], Mrs. Wm A Porter - her her husband deceased the 2d of April, died in holy triumph. You will remember that she visited at Mrs Vinals & that I have often observed a resemblance between you & her. *"We are women," dear Deborah, & let us do promptly what the hand findeth to do.

Yours affectionately

L.P. Hill

*no longer children.

(over)

Dear Madam,

I find that Mrs. Hill misunderstood me. I have written to Mr. Ely, requesting him to write to you and inform you respecting the children at the Sandwich Islands. As it is warm there, it will be best not to send any woollen articles.

The articles may be sent to me if you please; directed to Mr. Chamberlain or some other person at the Sandwich Islands; and I will see that they are carefully forwarded the first opportunity.

With my respects to Mr. Fiske,

I am, Dear Madam,
Yours very respectfully,
Henry Hill

May 20, 1830.

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah Fiske, Care of Professor Fiske, Amherst, Mass

Return address: Abington, Mass, 3 August

Abington July 1830

My dear Mrs. Fiske,

I would be rather late, I believe, to attempt a reply to your letter received six months since; and particularly to acknowledge its receipt, as I have been permitted to do this verbally. Since, however, a letter from a friend, is, to me, never ill timed, I avail myself of the privilege of writing, even now, confidently believing, that in this our feelings will not be at variance.

My visit at your house last fall, together with your letter afterward, and my recent visit have created feelings of deep interest, and I write, rather to solicit another letter, than because I have any thing to communicate which will gratify you.

You will probably have seen your aunt Vinal before this reaches you, and through her been informed relative to our return from Amherst, and the health of my husband. Since she was here, however, Mr. Shedd has been more seriously ill. He suffers now rather from [paper missing] than diseased lungs.

To how great an estent his original complaint is the cause of the present, or whether at all, I am unable to determine, consequently how much reason I have for the solicitude I feel I know not. However this may be, I find it very difficult to divest myself of it. But though the future is altogether hidden from my view, and wrapped in an obscurity which I should not dare penetrate, were I permitted, it is yet visible to him who knows our frame, and knows likewise what he will enable us to bear. To him I wish to commit all that is future - feeling that with whatever ingredients my cup may be mingled, it is still given by a Father's hand.

We had a short but very pleasant visit from your Uncle & Aunt Vinal, and hope yet to see much more of them. Your little Martha is now with us and we love her already very much. Our Elizabeth is highly gratified, and I think they will become very warm friends. Martha is almost impatient with the storm - she begins to doubt whether she is to see the sun in Abington - she is however [paper missing] happy, and sends you much love.

I am told that you have commenced making butter and that you make it fit to eat. I have no doubt of the perfect correctness of this operation. The varieties of country housekeeping will open to you new sources of amusement, instead of disquiet, as it does to too many. I congratulate your husband on this account.

Shall we my dear Mrs Fiske, ever see you in Abington. We will still anticipate it - or rather we will hope to see you somewhere. Will you not again write a knowledge of your circumstances in all respects, it will always be gratifying.

I regretted very much that it was not in my power to aid you in your plans of benevolence. but Circumstances at that time forbad it, and I know not now whether it will ever be my privilege.

Mr. Shedd sends much love to yourself and husband [paper missing] both accept much from

Your friend

[signature missing]

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah W. Fiske, Care of Rev. N. Fiske, Amherst, Ms, Postmarked: Boston, JAN 30

[Wednesday] Boston Jany. 29. 1834

My dear Deborah,

When I received your letter, mailed the 21st, I hoped to have sent you an answer before this; but owing to an inflamation in one of my eyes, I have been kept from writing for several days. I do not know that I can write much now, but neither do I know that I can say anything that will interest you or do you good; but I will make the attempt to say a few things, with the hope that they may suggest other & more important ones to your own mind.

Our Association in the beginning was a united one, composed of members of Old South & Part St Chs - after Essex St. Ch'h was formed they united with us. & our Meeting became exceedingly interesting. & we hoped blessed of the Lord. several of the older children became hopefully pious, & some of them to this day remember early impressions received at those meetings. After several years the Ass. became so large & the children so numerous, that we thought it best to divide & each Ch'h to sustain its own Association; which we did, & there are now eight different Associations which meet monthly by ourselves, except in October when we hold a united meeting, & invite some Clergymen to address us & our children. at this meeting we fill Park St Church vestry quite well, & we think it does good.

In our monthly meetings we endeavor have as much prayer & conversation appropriate to the occasion as possible. we take our work & one reads aloud to us, giving each an opportunity to make remarks & ask questions if they wish it. If any one has any difficulty in the training of her children or feels that she needs counsel, she is perfectly at liberty to ask advice, & feels that her confidence will by no means be betrayed. We do not mean to carry the names of our children or their faults to these meetings, yet sometimes we find our hearts comforted by knowing that other mothers have had the same difficulties to encounter, & when we find that they have been successful in overcoming them, we are strengthened in our resolutions to persevere. Generally we open & close our meeting with prayer, & sometimes we feel that there is special call for more prayer, & then we lay by our work & reading & spend most of our time in prayer. At such a time as this when God seems to be near, we spend much of the time in prayer. Our quarterly meetings, we conduct in various ways so as to make them most interesting to the children. We always commence with prayer, then take up the contributions, which we now appropriate to the support of a missionary child, who is an orphan & is sent back to this country from India. Formerly we supported a Heathen child in Ceylon. Sometimes we have sent money to support sabbath school in the West. We generally lay some interesting objects before the children & let them decide which to support, & then urge them to save up all the money they can, by self denial & industry, to aid in the object, & it always excites great interest. After this business is over we hear their recitations, either a Bible lessons or Hymns or something of the kind, not very long, sometimes we adopt the lesson published in the Mother's Magazine. Then we talk with them & read to them out of some interesting book, sometimes one addressing all the children together, sometimes each of us select two or three & converse with them in a low voice. At other times the Mothers except two retire to another room to pray, while the two converse with the children. In short, we continue every way to interest & do them good. And now my dear friend you will wish to know what good all this does? And I can't say to you positively that it has done any, & yet I do feel for myself that it always does me good, for I never return from a meeting without feeling my hands strengthened & my heart encouraged. The fact that so many pray for me & mine is a great comfort to me, for this is a part of our obligation. But that is not all, there are not a few of the children connected with our Association, who are pious, some are married & are exerting an influence in other Associations - & to many who are now with us, give evidence that they are among the lambs of the flock. I hope I have not wearied you, by this prolix account, & if I had time & eyes perhaps I could copy & condense it, but I have written just as the subject has come up in my mind & you will excuse it, & if it affords you any light or assistance I shall be happy. Dorcas has quite an interesting Ass. considering how little she has to make it of - but it only shows to me how much effort & perseverance will do. She spares no pains to qualify herself to do good & excite an interest, she says it takes her the whole 3 months to prepare & possess herself with anecdotes & profitable things for the children. Elisabeth gives us much hope that she is among the friends of Christ, she has not made a profession but is exerting a good influence in Societies, female prayer meeting &c, she has a delightful little boy. Dorcas' children are very lovely - My husband's health is wonderfully good this winter, he goes out at 1/2 past 6. to prayer meetg all winter. Our Minister is just as good as ever, & as the whole we are highly favoured.

I hope your own health will improve. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXX With kindest regards to your husband & all friends, particularly Dr. & Mr. Humphrey & Mr & Mrs Hitchcock, believe me ever your affectionate friend Isabella Homes.

Addressed: Mrs Fiske, Care of Rev. Prof. Fiske, Amherst, Mr. Adams

[Sunday] Andover March 2d 1834

My dear Mrs Fiske --

I am truly glad to hear by Mr Adams that your health is restored, for I had many fears, when I heard of your being afflicted with the whopping cough, that with the tenderness of your constitution, the efforts would be serious and lasting. You have had Miss Leonard's faithful nursing and care this winter, & more than all the tender mercy of Him, who tho' he promised to his children chastisement and rebuke, adds also, "worthness, my loving kindness will I not utterly take from thee, nor suffer my faithfulness to fail".

How many of the friends to whom I was attached in Amherst, have been in deep affliction since I was there in June! Mrs Lyman Mrs Thayer, Mrs Gridley & yourself. I rejoice in the hope that in each of these instances the chastening has been that of a Father, and tho' grievous & bitter, he has "sat as a refiner and [ ] of silver", watching lest the heat be too intense for the precious metal, and also for the object of the process, the reflection of His own image therein. I trust that each of these friends have found the blessedness of being among those "whom the Lord loves". Who would not choose the portion of children, the faithfulness of a father in discipline in rebuke, by which we are prepared for the inheritance of those who are "joint heirs with Christ". I have often thought of Mr. Wilder's reply to a person who inquired the number of his children, "five, - three here, & two in heaven" - Your little precious ones would perhaps have been the joy of your heart here, but how much better for them to commence the service of God so soon, almost with their existance & before they had tasted the bitterness of sin. I should be very glad to hear from you my dear friend and know something of your sorrows and of your consolations. Do remember me most affectionately and with much sympathy to the persons I have mentioned, & also to any other friends whom I sincerely love. Mrs Humphrey Mrs Washburn Mrs Hitchcock Miss Mary Shepard & her sisters & Mrs Snell. I would gladly write them particularly to Mrs Lyman & Mrs Gridley, but this evening is my only time, & I am so much troubled with my eyes, that I can scarcely see to arrange my words. I hope it is a temporary evil, but for the last fortnight, I have been obliged to give up reading & sewing almost entirely. My health is perfectly good. I keep house for Mother & have an abundance of profitable exercise, tho' lately I have been a little troubled & kept still with a lame ankle, a consequence I suppose of the swelled limbs from which I suffered some years ago.

Mr Park preaches constantly & enjoys his pleasant study here very highly. He hopes he shall spend this year in his present situation, where he has so favourable an opportunity to pursue his own favourite plans of study. I would write to Miss L. & tell him about Mary if it were possible. She has perfect health & my Father thinks she has "capital traits of character". She can say "Twinkle twinkle little Star," and How doth the little busy bee" & "Tho' I am young, a little one", &c. Give my love to Miss L & thank her for the letter which I received last fall.

Dear Mrs. Fiske, the lamp has a halo round around it, such as the moon has, in a misty night. I ought not to write another word. My letter bears no "marks of evil," & I should be ashamed of this, if I would write a letter tonight. But it will assure you I know of the affection of your friend,

E.H. Park

My Mother & Husband send their aff. regards to yourself & Mr Fiske.

Addressed: Mrs. D.W.V. Fiske, Amherst

[Friday] Charlestown May 30th 1834.

Dear Mrs. Fiske.

Your letter was received before I had left my room after a confinement to it of several weeks, by a severe cough attended with fever which had so far reduced my strength as to disable me for a time from sitting up, excepting to have my bed made. As the process, by which I became sick, was slow, so likewise has been, that of my recovery, scarcely perceptible from day to day. But by the blessing of God upon the means used for my restoration, I have gained so much, that I have been able to take several rides. I am now with my mother, having shut up house for a fortnight, that I may be free from care, & have an opportunity for journeying, which my physician regards as necessary, for the confirmation of my health. My friends think I am not quite free from the hidden embryos of the same insidious disease with which you, as well as myself, have been threatened. I have, therefore, promised them, that for the present, at least, I will not engage in any thing which I can well avoid. Under such circumstances you will not consider me, as needlessly excusing myself from performing the pleasant task, which the kindness of your heart prompted you to request me to undertake. Most gladly would I aid you in administering to the necessities of the Beneficiaries of your College. If it were not for the sake of my health, however, I should not dare to promise you much, as I cannot lay claim to that tact of begging of which Mr. B. possesses so large a share. & indeed if I could, so much have our people been solicited to contribute, to different objects since the opening of the year. They might not so generously meet a new demand upon their charities. Mr. Bennett has solicited & obtained about three hundred dollars among those recently for Marietta College - for which institution our Female Charitable Society, & also our Juvenile Society, have each begun a box of clothing, bedding &c. These boxes will not probably be filled till Autumn, as I understand they have not progressed much in their work, of late. If my life is spared, till what is already begun, is completed, I will cheerfully mention your request to our Society, & I doubt not they will wish to do something, though our charities are often called for, in aiding the Beneficiaries in our Academy.

You mention the affliction with which you have been visited in the death of a beloved child. I think I can sympathize, in some measure with those who have been thus tried, as our children have each been twice dangerously sick. Being called to part with your little one at so early a period of the existence, furnished you with the rich consolations of hope concerning them.

You were apprized, of the bereavement, with which our family have been visited. I am now writing at the same desk, where your husband has so often seen, our departed father with his pen & papers. But we shall never more behold his venerable form & silver locks. He will never again return to bless & counsel his household, but some one or all of us may soon be called to follow him to the final resting place for our bodies. It matters but little when, or how, if our souls are only prepared to wing their way to those mansions where Jesus & all who loved Him, dwell.

I am not able to answer your enquiries respecting our friend Kate, not having seen her since her marriage, previous to which time she used to favor me with her visits & letters. I was about to express a wish that, fitted as she is to adorn society of an elevated kind, her lot has been differently cast, but I was checked in the expression of such a wish, by the recollection that the disposal of her fate was at the direction of that [paper missing] who is infinitely wiser in his plans than any of her short sighted friends. Indeed, if she & we are what we profess to be, lovers of God, whether we love parents or children, or are afflicted in other ways, of this we may be assured, that we shall never have one trial, we do not need & that all things will eventually work together for our good. In every chastisement, we have one source of comfort, even though every other should be dried up, the consideration that the Lord reigns.

I did not mean to intrude so long a letter upon you, but my pen as well as my tongue is prone to too many words, but I agree with you in disliking apologies. My mother wishes to be remembered to you & our husband. Mr. Bennett & George would doubtless join with her, if they were aware of my writing. May we not hope to have the pleasure of a visit from you before another winter? Please to make my regards acceptable to your husband, & believe me to be with true respect

Yours affectionately,

M.L. Bennett.

Addressed: Mrs. Professor Fisk, Amherst, Mass.

Return address: Halifax, Ms, June 12

[Friday] Halifax, 6th June 1834 --

Cousin Deborah,

I cannot but admire your perseverance in well doing. For while I have suffered myself to be led on by a habit of Procrastination, and permitted your kind epistle so long to remain unanswered, you have forwarded me four numbers of the mothers Magazine, all of which have been duly received, and perused with much interest by my family, & self, and are now circulating in this neighbourhood. They possess appeals to the hearts & consciences of Mothers, which one would suppose almost irresistible, and I trust they will not prove like "water spilt upon the ground, which cannot be gathered again," but that your kindness will prove a blessing to all who may peruse them; to this, I am aware the goodness of your heart, will lead you fervently to respond. -- --

When I seated myself to address a few lines to you by Mr. Beman, almost fearing it would be considered an intrusion, I did not allow myself as usual, to indulge in anticipations of an answer, but proceeded, merely in accordance with the dictates of that affection which I have ever felt for all, however distantly related by kindred ties. Thus, when your letter was handed me, I perceived the most heartfelt satisfaction; although in the perusal it pained me much to hear of your affliction, in the loss of your little son, and your own severe indisposition. I had previously heard of your sickness when in B., but had no idea that you was brought so near the gates of death, neither had I been informed of the death of your child. --

But how my dear cousin could I grieve for you, when at the same time I discovered in your epistle, so much resignation to the divine will. It seems to me, that the peace & severity of mind which the views of the true christian inspire, must far outbalance every earthly deprivation.

As I proceeded in the perusal of your letter; I felt emotions of pride, not I trust unmixed with gratitude, that you had deigned to express so much interest, in the present circumstances, and future prospects of my family; I will endeavour to answer your enquiries, but time admonishes me to be as brief as possible. You say, you remember Halifax, and the red house in which I formerly lived; I now reside about 1/4 of a mile from there, and about the same distance from the Factories, in a small green house, on the stage road from Bridgewater to Plymouth. Mr. Pratt is still in the employ of H.M. & Co. at the generous wages of 4/6 per day, and boards himself; your knowledge of the daily expenditures, even in a small family, will lead you to conclude, that after the necessary wants of the family are supplied, there is little left for the superfluous ones; However, I seldom feel cause to complain at the allotments of Providence, in view of the many mercies I receive, compared with the few I deserve; I have generally been able, either by the force of education, or something implanted within me, to keep the bright side in view, while struggling along the rough & crooked path, which it has been my destiny to travel, though I have often severely felt the need of the all powerful aids of Religion, to enable me to perceive, and discharge my duty, in the various stations assigned me in life.

Our Son William is at Middleborough, about ten miles distant from us, apprenticed to a watchmaker & jeweller; the trade of his own choosing, [paper missing] the best adapted to his mechanical powers; he is seventeen years of age, went to his trade at fourteen, and has always appeared happy and contented in his situation; if you were to see him, it would be difficult for you to realize him as my child, for he is nearly six feet in height. You enquire, what are our plans in relation to our daughters; we have as yet laid no plans for them; they are still with us, the eldest fourteen, the youngest (Ellen) is ten; they are not very robust, particularly, the eldest, although she has the most healthy countenance of the two; she has grown very much the year past, and I attribute her feebleness in part to that. We have now a decent district school, which Ellen attends steadily, and Aroline when able. I have just had the favour of a visit from sister Jane; we were called to Situate to attend the funeral of our Grandmother, and she returned home with me and spent about ten days, and they are with Ellen is now visiting Aunt Hobart. You ask if Aunt has become a christian; she has made no profession of religion, I visit her occasionally, and she visits me; I often hear her express a great desire to be a christian, and I think her views are changed, as it respects the things of this world, they are gradually sinking in her esteem, and I am sometimes led to think she has commenced the christian course. We attended followed our venerable Grandmother to the grave on saturday May 24h and passed the night in Situate; the next morning Father proposed taking Jane & myself over to Marshfield, to call on Aunt Clift, a privilege I never expected to enjoy again in this world; thought that I had visited her for the last time about three years since, when cousin H. Bowker was boarding there, of which you probably heard her mention; I found Aunt very feeble, but much better than she had been; she seemed much happier in mind that when I last saw her, which was quite a satisfaction, and that, together with the joy which she repeatedly expressed at seeing us, was all that tended to make our visit supportable, I wish the poor old Lady had a nurse more capable of administering to her wants; Deborah's will is doubtless good, as far as her ability extends, but I can tell you cousin, it is not there now, as it used to be when we were young, and to be there, and witness the decay of nature in Aunt, and the change in all around, it becomes almost insupportable; I understood that Aunt O.V. had been there a few days previous; if she visits you, she will give you the particulars.
You ask if I have a good minister, in reply to which I will inform you what are the religious privileges to be enjoyed in Halifax. One and a half miles from us, there is a meeting house where the Calvinist doctrines are advocated, the minister a Mr. Elbridge G. Howe, doubtless a very good man, and one who ardently desires to be useful in his station, he makes himself acquainted with the religious movement of the day among his order, and in that respect has enlightened the minds of his people in that respect far more than their former Minister, Mr. Richmond, who was dismissed about two years since, but Mr. Howe is a very small preacher; there are continual broils in the church, they have had council after council, and finally it has been recommended to the disaffected members (who accuse their pastor of being too liberal in his views; of preaching Unitarianism, milk & water preaching &c &c.) to draw off and form a church by themselves, or join sister churches in the adjoining towns. there is a small Baptist society about four miles from us, and there is what is styled and accommodation meeting house, near where we reside; Universalism and Restorationism is what is generally advocated there, and the next Sabbath I understand there is to be a female preacher from among the reformed Methodists. here I generally attend meetings, because it is near, and we have no horse or carriage to enable us to go any distance, and my strength will not admit of my walking any distance -- I think cousin Deborah you must be very happily situated, and I hope you will long be spared to enjoy it, trusting that your fears respecting your own health are in a degree, groundless; I can hardly submit to the thought; that all I would fain say to you, must be communicated by writing, especially when I find myself at the very last of my paper - hope you will excuse my negligence in writing, and write me soon, should like to have you continue sending the Magazine, as long as you can spare them. My Husband requests a remembrance, likewise Aroline who is making much dependance on your promised letter to herself and sister. Your affectionate cousin

Alice V. Pratt

I wrote to Aunt M. Beek several years since, and received no answer, I think however I shall write her soon.

Addressed: Mrs. D.W.V. Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Mr. A. Bigelow

My dear friend Deborah, for I shall not be so formal as to say Mrs Fiske, even tho' it is so long a time, since I have addressed her, it is never long that I do not think of her, with much affection.

I was sadly disappointed the other day on opening a package, which I was told was from you to find that it was not. I received it in Boston & reserved the pleasure of reading it, until my return home. I was pleased with what I did receive, it was a long affectionate note, from Miss Ann Shephard accompanying a package of flower seeds, which were very acceptable, Still when I had been looking forward with pleasure to reading a note from my dear friend D. who had not written me one, since my marriage, & had just said to husband "that my friend Deborah had not given me up tho I thought she had," I was disappointed to find that her thoughts had not come to me, tho' I might sometimes be in them. The reception of the life of Doddridge & a Catalogue, prove that my name is not forgotten & are therefore very acceptable tokens.

I was in Boston last December & remained rather more than four weeks, which is the longest visit I have made at home, since my marriage. I called there to see your Aunt but she was so sick that I could not see her. I love to see her & talk about you whenever I have an opportunity. which is seldom, as my visits in B. are usually so short, that I have only time to do my shopping.

Sister Elisabeth is now probably in N. York, she had a sweet little boy named George. He is with his grandfather W. Elisabeth finds that one of the greatest trials of housekeeping is to procure help. She has had no steady help now for sometime. I have been wonderfully favored in that respect. I have a good girl to do my cooking & a young girl to assist me. I find my three little children quite a charge, & that is not as easy a thing as I used to think it was, to make children do as we wish to have them. I would not mind either the number, or the looks if they only do well. I read the Mothers Magazine & many other interesting & useful books on education & keep trying, but still I fail but I must trust in the Lord & look to to him for help - & I hope as I grow in years I shall grow in knowledge & experience.

I was grieved while in Boston to learn that Catharine Walleys father was so deranged, he was raving part of the time & had locked the door five Sabbaths to prevent their going to meeting.

It seems delightful to go home & see the young ladies with whom we used to associate, I feel like one of them when with them & forget the changes which have taken place -- Mary & Catharine Jenkins & the lively Mary Caroline do not alter much.

I heard from Elisabeth this week that she was well & has now gone to N.Y. tho' she was not gone when the first part of my note was written, which was more than a week ago. I was called from it suddenly & left it unfinished.

Now dear Deborah do let me hear of your welfare in your own hand writing. Brother Andrew can tell you about me & mine.

Remember me affectionately to Mr. Fiske, & believe me as ever your sincere & affectionate friend,

Dorcas F. Bigelow

Walpole May 21, 1835.

Addressed: Mrs. D.W.V. Fiske, Care of Rev. Professor Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Postmarked: Andr, Ms, MAY 28

[Tuesday] Andover May 26th. 1835

My dear Mrs. Fiske -

I received a short letter from you last fall in which you speak of having written a long letter some time before - I asked my husband what it could mean, for I had no recollection of having received a [ ] from you. The mystery was unravelled in Feb. 1835 when your letter written in May 1834 was taken from our office post marked "Andover" - of course the bearer was at hand, but who it could be that was so punctual & faithful, I could not imagine. Happily for him, his name was not on the outside of the letter, but if you remember who he was, I imagine you will never trust him with an express in any case of importance --

But long as this letter was on its way, it was very welcome, for I was truly glad to hear how you and all Amherst friends were a year ago. I had had now and then a verbal account of them which was more recent but you took me around to all the neighbours. & I enjoyed my calls very much. It was also a pleasure to me to know that you also had been sustained & comforted in affliction, for it sustains our faith to see that God does not forsake his children in the [fermain] where he sees it mindful to place them. When dear Dr. Wisner was dying, Mrs Wisner said in her agony, to Mr & Mrs Hubbard (who you know how both been bereaved in the same manner) "did he ever leave you, did he ever forsake you? seeming to long for that assurance of the faithfulness of God, which the expression of others of his children could afford her. I saw her before the funeral. As is sometimes the case she seemed to have more abundant consolation then than afterwards, & said that she could from her own experience tell one "don't be afraid". She has since suffered extremely in body & mind, but is more cheerful now and in better health, tho she still carries a look & a heart of woe. She has gone to live with Mrs. Bacon in New Haven. She has been here to visit sister, with Mrs. Dr. Rice of Virginia. The husbands of these three widows were intimate with each other, & their companions who remain, are strongly united in that tender sympathy which none but widows know. Mrs. Rice & Mrs. Wisner have no children & comparing their loneliness with my sister's, I can appreciate the blessing she has in such a source of comfort & occupation & care as her six children afford her. You enquire about her and them, & will be interested to know that she has one of the best of daughters in her Mary who is nearly 14 years old, & the most mature & industrious child of her that I ever knew & best of all, I think she is an exemplary Christian. The eldest son is in a store, well situated. Thomas is at home at school, having been on a farm a year & a half, & is much improved. The younger children are promising, & are sunshine to their Mother's heart.

I am now visiting in a chambre of sister's nice & convenient habitation, (with which the widows God has provided her), when I have taken up my abode for the present. I have enjoyed constantly improving health for the last 2 years, & last winter was almost as well as I used to be in the days of my youth. I often found myself skipping up two pair of stairs, without losing my breath at the top either, but my skippings are over for the present, & I now approve of gentle & level steps, almost finding as if I must lift my feet high, as a cat does when walking in the long grass, that I may not encounter any earthly obstacle. My cares in keeping house at Mother's I tried to think I could sustain still, but at last was obliged to flee, in the midst of painting & whitewashing & housecleaning. My dear sister has opened her house & her heart to receive me, & here I shall probably remain through the summer and fall. Mamma & Father would love to have me there, but I cannot be a member of the family without sharing in Mother's cares, & often when she has company, making efforts which I ought not to make any where. I have been so accustomed to take responsibility there in every emergency, that now I cannot be under the roof and be still when occasions of pressure come. Mamma's health is good, & I hope she will be able to sustain her cares this summer, & the better, because of the respite she has had for more than a year.

Mr. Park has been preaching in Gloucester for the last three months, & if he were willing to settle in the ministry yet, would probably remain there, for it is a desolate place. But while he would not give up preaching the gospel, which he does constantly, he has some reasons for preferring to remain here at present. He has now gone to Providence, carrying Mary to make hr a visit to her Grandmomma Park. She is now four years old & quite "companionable" - reads a little, & sews very well & has great perseverance and activity. I often think how her faithful friend Miss Leonard would delight to see her.

How is Miss L. & where is she? I rejoice that you have had the benefit of her faithful care, so much of this time since I gave up all my claims. I should like to transport her across the hills in the fall, but it is too far to wish any one to come for my sake. Give my love to her & tell her I should be very glad to hear from her.

Now dear Mrs. Fiske, think how much has accumulated during a year that I should rejoice to hear, from Amherst, & I am sure if your health is good, you will write me another letter of just such a "country cat" as the last, for the dimensions are satisfactory, if the proportions are not according to strict rule -- I carried it to Gloucester where I went to stay awhile with Mr. Park last month (my last ride away from home) & intended to answer it there, but I was so unwell & uncomfortable while there, that I did nothing to any purpose. We saw upon hills around Gloucester the "Liberty poles" & signals, which Mr. Hitchcock set up when he was surveying that part of the state, & I think he will say it exceeds all the rest of Massachusetts in rocks & desolation. tho' some views of the sea & are very fine. Give my last regards to Mr. Fiske & love to little Helen & accept much love from your affectionate E.R.H. Park

Now this letter "tells about every thing," & it is my special request that you will not keep it in your own workbasket & for your own eyes only, giving much love to my kind friends their in Amherst, all of them, for there are many there that I shall always value, & in whose blessings I am ever interested.

Mr. Wornster is in the full tide of popularity in Salem. But his home trials are rather increasing. Mrs. W. has been removed to the country.

Sister wishes me to give her kind regards to you. Thomas sends his love & respects to Mrs. Fiske.

Addressed: Mrs. Fiske, Care of Prof. Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Dr. Humphrey

[Tuesday] Roxbury, Oct 27. 1835. --

My dear friend

I was more disappointed than I can express in not being able to go in to see you while you were in the city. For three days after you were here I was too unwell to go out, and on attempting to ride found the exertion too fatiguing & was obliged to return home. Your kindness in calling has often been thought of & I shall frequently think with much satisfaction & interest of that interview, so very pleasant to me.

Mr. Abbott is now in New York, but I am looking with some impatience for his return, as our second little boy, whom you saw so healthy & happy, is quite sick. Our Physician says there is no cause to apprehend anything serious, but as the measles are very prevalent I think it must probably be the commencement of that disease.

The affliction we met with last year in the loss of our little girl, & her sickness occurring during Mr. A.'s absence, makes me perhaps feel more solicitude than I ought, but what a sweet comfort it is to know that that there is one who is nearer & better than all our earthly supports; - one who will do better for us than we can ask or think.

I write in great haste, as I wish to send this into town to reach Dr. Humphrey.

Will you accept this little volume which will interest you from its truth & nature, & from being another interesting memento of Dr. Payson.

Yours most affly

H.V. Abbott.

Addressed: Mrs. Fiske, Care of Rev. Prof. Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Postmarked: Andr, MS, NOV 2

[Saturday] Andover Friday Eve. Oct 31.

My dear Mrs. Fiske --

I should have written you at least "five or six lines" by our good President, but he did not stay with us as usual, & when he called he forgot I suppose to leave your letter, & I did not receive it till he had left town. Notwithstanding this I should have prepared a short letter, but he told me that you had been in Boston, where I thought perhaps you had heard something about me & therefore I preferred to wait a few days till I could write more fully, as I have been for several weeks wishing to do. Dr. Humphrey made a short visit in town, & I was then busy preparing to go to Boston today, but Mary has the whooping cough, & in addition to this trouble, has for a few days been uncomfortable with the chicken-pox & I am now waiting till next week when I hope we shall both be better prepared to change our home.

Dear Mrs. Fiske I thank you for your very kind interest about me & for the sympathy which I know you have felt for me in my trials. If I did not know that the kind compassion which we feel for those that are in sorrow brings its own reward to our hearts, I should almost have a feeling of regret that I have made such frequent demands upon the sympathy of my friends. Yet what could we do without it? It has been one of my sweetest "comforts in ny affliction," & one of the reasons for which I would say, "bless the Lord O my soul!"

I forgot whether at the time I wrote Miss Leonard I was troubled with a cough. It came on in July after one of those sudden changes of weather, & for several weeks was very unyielding. I think it was six weeks before it was subdued by blisters & leeches, & tho' from that time I was entirely free from it, its effects remained with me till my confinement on the 15th of September.

Persons less susceptible than I am in I sick circumstances, have often had a cough as unpleasant as mine, without any ill consequences, but it injured me in a way that I cannot explain in a letter, & was the cause of my premature illness. But this cause as well as the effect, was from God. It accomplished just the errand for which it was sent. So foresight would have prevented it, no pains were effectual in removing it till it had done its work. I am comforted that God's hand has done it all - that we omitted nothing which could prevent my health & safety, that no imprudence or neglect can be remembered to cause us regret. I had strong hopes that this time I should be a happy mother, but I daily & almost hourly reminded myself that it was more than possible that I should be disappointed, & I prayed that I might not complain or find fault if this should be the case. I would be thankful & feel that it is of God's goodness, that if he has not accepted all my petitions concerning this thing, he has kept me from murmuring against his will. It has been a bitter trial to us & now, I seem to have no hope - I cannot say that I wish that my hopes may ever be excited again.

My recovery has been very favourable, & I think I am now as well as I was within a year after my last illness at Amherst. I was more prostrated by that illness than by any previous one, but since then I have gained much in general health, & have now much more reason to hope for health & ability to "do what my hand findeth to do," than I had then. I hope that after this week I shall be with my husband, & the days of our separation will be ended. We shall board in Charlestown for a while, & perhaps continue there, unless the walk proves too long for him, in the winter. He has a very pleasant boarding place, & we do not like to take the risk of an exchange.

Now I have written about myself to my heart's content, but you encouraged me to do so, therefore I shall make no apology.

I cannot but hope from the cheerful strain of your letter, that your health is much improved & I rejoice in it, but how you will miss our good Miss L.! She cannot keep you well, but she has no doubt relieved you of that care of your children which would have worn upon your health. If I knew where she is, I would write to her. If you hear her direction will you send her this letter?

Dr. Humphrey was here only in the evening, but I thought he looked ten years younger - & he seemed so bright and animated & healthy that I must hope he will (as we express ourselves,)
his 10 years longer for this pleasant excursion - it seems to be little more in these days, when a person may cross the "big pond," visit England, Scotland, France & Ireland too, & back again in six months.

We remember & love Amherst College, & rejoice in all the good we hear of it. We love Amherst friends too, & are always glad when we can make enquiries respecting them, or have any communication from them. Give my love to them, particularly to Mrs Humphrey, Mrs Hitchcock, Mrs Snell, Mrs Washburn, the Misses Shephard & Mrs Lyman & Mrs Gridley. Remember me too to Mr. Fiske. Mary is sound asleep or she would send some message to Helen. She is very healthy, & I think will not suffer serious from the cough, tho' at the best it is a very uncomfortable period in a child's expression -- & often a very sad one as you have reason to know. Dear Mrs F. why did not you come to Andover in all that three weeks' visit at Boston? We should all have been truly glad to see you. And why did not you let Mr P know that you were there?
Our friends may find him, or write me, to his care at the Baptist Missionary Rooms No 17. Joy's Building. I mean to go and see Mrs Abbot soon after I get to B. How surprising that her health and life are so prolonged? -- Mamma send her love to you - This is "after prayer," & it is time I was "all up stairs" asleep, so good night, -- Your truly afft.

E.H. Park

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah W.V. Fiske, Care of Proff. Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Postmarked: Boston, MS, NOV 10

[Sunday] Newton, Nov. 8, 1835

My dear, though long neglected friend,

I have been thinking of by-gone days, since my little ones have been lain in their beds; and while reccollecting dear friends, the form of dear Deborah, arose to my view, and I have determined to answer her kind letter, and remind her again of Emily. If I could usher you into my family, and show you, how almost every moment of my time was occupied, and how little time I find for reflection, which we so much need, to keep our minds active and vigorous, you would not wonder, that I find so little time, or inclination for letter writing. My daily duties unfit me much for sober, steady thinking, and I often fear, I am so worldly minded, that I have no part among the children of God, and of course, for any intercourse with those, that are.

But I will not be this sentimental to my dear Deborah. I know such a letter will not be acceptable, but it is Sabbath evening and I naturally take a sober strain, and I have, of late, had some clearer views of my own heart, and thought more of another world, than formerly. My situation, as the wife of a minister, will not allow me to be light and trifling as I used to be, and my responsibility as a mother, leads me continually to look beyond this world. In looking at your letter, I perceive it is more than a year, since it was written. I thought then, I should answer it very soon. But how quickly the year has passed. At that time dear Sister Warner was in this world, though a sufferer, trying every means to persevere, a poor, emaciated frame. She has since, we trust, made a glorious exchange. We have scarcely mourned for her. She had been sick four years, suffered much, and there was no probability, that she could ever enjoy health. But oh! we have missed her, and even now, when I think of her, I long again to hear her voice, and listen to her advice. My dear Deborah, you can never know, what a kind Sister, or even a Mother, she was to me. She cheered me, if I was desponding, advised me, if I was in doubt, and was always affectionately and lovely. Excuse me for thus eulogizing one, you knew. She has left one little daughter, the age of my oldest son - 5 years last May - A Mrs. Fairbanks, a widow lady, who was with dear Sister, when she died, has taken her for the present. She is the best person, to be found, to have the charge of her. There is mutual love between them. The dear child has been very sick, the past summer, and contrary to our expectations, she is now partially or wholly restored. Mother took her in the spring, from Mrs. Fairbanks, who had taken care of her, after her mother's death, and thought, with my assistance, we could keep her with us. In a few weeks, that dreadful disease, the scrofula, made its appearance, and for several weeks we expected she would leave us. She is a very difficult child to govern at all times, owing partly to her never knowing the care of a Mother, and changing from one to another, and partly to her natural disposition. When she was sick, it was trying indeed to take care of her. It made Mother almost sick, though some of the time, we had two nurses with her. She is a very bright, forward child, and if rightly managed, with grace, will make one of the best of women. It is hard that she cannot live with us, but my duty to my children require, that she should not be here, unless Mr. Bates and I should have the entire control of her, which cannot be. Her Father has been with us, most of the time the past year. He would like now to be settled in some place, and have a home. I wish, for his sake, he had a pleasant parish. His health now appears to be very good, much better than in former years, and I think his trials will make him a more plain, pointed preacher. I do not mean that he was not formerly a good preacher, but I think he will now be more generally understood. I suppose he is now at Andover.

My dear Mother has called it home with me for several years, but this autumn, she went to Philadelphia, to see my brother, intending to return this month. I heard a fortnight ago she had her things ready to leave for Pittsburg, where I have another brother. I now fear, I shall not see her again this winter. I am much dissappointed for in winter I shall be much alone, especially evenings, without her. If you have been in Newton, and perceived how scattered the houses are in this part of the town, you would suppose, there is not much neighborly intercourse on a cold winter evening. But I am trying to bring my mind to it, and hope, it will lead me to look more to a higher source for happiness. My dear husband is very much occupied in his pastoral duties. He is not one of those ministers, who merely preaches on the Sabbath, and scarcely ever visits his people. Sometimes, I think he is always going. He visits all the families, at least twice a year, beside the sick, & when death occurs. As the people are much scattered, and he keeps no horse, his duties are very laborious. I have often wished, he might live in some place, where his salary would allow him to keep a horse, or he could visit with more ease, but here we stay, though he frequently feels, as though he should not stay long. His labors here have been much blessed, and the people still appear attached to him, though it is now a cold state among us. Some of the church begin to think, something must be done, among us, and we feel some encouraged - meetings are a little better attended, than they have been. There are a good number of young persons in our church, which renders it interesting to a minister. His salary is small, that I have to economise in every way I can, and give up many of my former views and feelings. He has only 500, not including house rent, far too little for this vicinity. If it is not raised ere long, I think we shall be obliged to leave, but I do not mean to trouble myself about the future. The people have to raise over 400 for their old minister, Dr. Homer, which is making the sum a great deal for a country parish to raise. The times are more hard in this region - As to my own family, I have now three healthy boys - Edward Payson, James Atwood, and Charles Henry. The youngest almost two years old. I have never known the pain you have experienced, in parting with one of these darling ones. I have sometimes tried to realize, how I feel, if called to such a scene, but fear I should ill bear such a trial. My children have been uncommonly well. I take the whole charge of them myself. They have never been to any school, but the Sabbath. I keep but one girl, and of course, you will suppose, I find enough to occupy my hands and thoughts. If our lives and health are spared I intend to learn my eldest much this winter. He is now at an age, when it is interesting to try to teach him something from books. He has learnt to read, and amuses himself much in that way. -- Excuse my egotism.

Your dear Aunt Scholfield is likewise among the dead. I was very happy to learn from Mrs. Anderson, who has boarded in Newton this summer, that there was a decided change in her views, and that she left, passing evidence of a happy change of worlds. I hope her children will become sincere christians. I always thought Ann, seemed thoughtful, if not the others. When you see or write to Mrs. Hooker, tell her I have not forgotten her, and wish her to remember me. I should delight much to see her. Cannot your Aunt Vinal ride out to see me. We should like much to welcome her here. I do hope, if you come to Boston, you will visit me. You will find me living in a plain manner, perhaps surrounded by my noisy boys, but I shall be glad to see you. Only think of Mary Green with her 4 or 5 little ones! Can you realize that such changes have taken place, since we all spent an afternoon together at your house, and your Uncle learnt us how to tie our hands together in some peculiar manner.

Brother Charles comes to Newton occasionally, though his business confines him most of the time in Boston. He has not yet made a proffession of religion. I do think he is a Christian, but he wants some one to urge him to duty. I do hope he will find a good wife ere long, and I then think he will take a decided stand. He appears just as he used to, engaged in every good object.

Do not wait a year before you answer this. I can assure you I often think of you with unabated affection, and shall rejoice at the renewal of our intercourse. Mr. Bates would join me in love to yourself and husband, but he is absent, attending a third meeting. Receive this as a token of sincere affection,

from Emily A. Bates.

Addressed: Mrs. D.W. Fiske, Amherst, Mass, By Mr. Forrest.

[Thursday] Weston June 23 1836

My dear Sister,

I like the idea of paying my debts, and having a letter due; therefore you will please to excuse the stupidity which one feels after washing; you may thin Saturday is sheets washing day, it is not generally any day to wash but we have been rather short for water, having a thaw yesterday I caught a supply of water; and to day have done three weeks washing. Father has had a very bad fall, from a hay loft, it is three weeks since, he was getting hay for the cattle, it was rather dark, he does not know how he fell, Mr. Patch was in the barn and heard him all, he probably stuck his head or shoulders first, the hurt seems to be about the neck and chest or breastbone, he suffered a great del of pain for a few days, would not be moved, we were quite alarmed at first, had a physician immediately, he said there was none of the ribs broken and he thought he would get over it again, he gets along very slowly; has a good appetite and says he feels as well as ever he did when he is on the bed. When he sits up has a good deal of pain about his neck and the pit of his stomach, he gets about, and goes out of the hour every day, I do not thin he will be able to do any thing more this winter, and I am fearful he will always feel the effects of the fall, he has got to be quite old, and a fall generally [ ] old people and often proves fatal.

Another person in this town has had a fall and it is expected he will never be able to walk again. Mr Hastings about father's age, I feel as if we had very great reason to be thankful that the injury was no worse. We live in the middle room, have got two beds, or one and a half in it, our family is so small that I can do the cooking in there very well the room is so longe we have plenty of room.

I wish I could hear from you once and not hear that your girl was gone or going; I suppose it is one of the evils of life which will stick by without fail. We were disappointed in not seeing your husband this vacation. I should think he would be as glad to get away from Printer as a man would be to get away from the sheriff. Miss Brackett is well and sends her love to you, she has been spending a week with us.

We have had a very sudden death in the neighborhood. Mr. Charles Premis, your husband knows him; well one sabbath and buried the next, his death seemed awful, he to human knowlege died without ny preparation for death, he was the one who prosecuted our Master for punishing his boy I believe he was heard to swear he would be revenged if God spared his life, but God did not spare it, he was summoned to a higher court.

Abby was quite delighted with her letter has answered it as you will find. You may think when you see this sheet that I was straightened for paper, but it was not the case I was more straightened for time & did not see that his sheet was written upon until I had filled one side, had not time to write again, and thought i had better cut out piece then send you some writing which did not belong to you.

Give my lover to all your family.

I believe I must hear the rest of the news from Martha to tell you, as she is writing; do not let the thought of having nieces to correspond with make you feel old.

from your affectionate sister M. Fiske.

[Halifax, Mass]
[Saturday] Halifax 26th March 1836.

My dear Cousin,

Yours of the 12st inst was duly received, and the apology for delay cheerfully accepted -- We are perfectly satisfied with your proposals as it regards Aroline, and we shall be making our arrangements to comply with them; in the firm belief, that, with the blessing of God, it will tend greatly to her improvement, and with the most sincere hope, that she will be enabled so to conduct herself, as shall meet your approbation, and that of all concerned.

Previous to recieving your letter, William had given an invitation to ride to Boston with him, and I consented; if he would go with such a horse as our good old Aunt Clift used to say she liked; with his head between his fore legs, and his tail tied on with a leather string; for by the way, among all my other deficiences, I am extremely deficient in point of courage when riding -- As Wm is going to the City on business, which does not call him untill the 17th of April, my visit, with the preparation necessary to fix off an old lady who seldom goes out of sight of the smoke from her own chimney, will be the means of delaying Aroline's journey some - besides, you are aware, I could do nothing towards preparing her, untill informed of your decision -- however, I should think it probable she may be in readiness to leave home about the 1st of May -- You seem to anticipate that my heart may fail me, as the time of her departure draws near. - believe me cousin Deborah, if I am blest with health, it shall not; for according to my ideas, that Mother discovers a lamentable weakness, who could not sacrifice her own ease and comfort, to promote the good of her offspring.

Accept my warmest thanks for the interest you express in the spiritual welfare of myself and family, that your most sanguine wishes may be realized, not only by us, but by the whole human family, you may perhaps be surprised when I say, I am almost persuaded to believe -- My heart is at times, alive to the all important subject of Religion, and I humbly pray that I may be permitted to remain a sojourner upon earth, untill my mind may rest upon something decisive, and I shall no longer be blown about by every wind of doctrine.

Your affectionate cousin

A.V. Pratt
Mrs. D.W.V. Fiske

Addressed: Mrs. D.W. Fiske, Amherst, Mass.

[Monday] Charlestown. April 4th 1836.

My Dear Mrs. Fiske.

With this letter you will receive a bundle, which may excite your curiosity as to what it means and where it comes from? So I will proceed to explain. The aforesaid bundle containing 15 shirts and an equal number of dickies is a donation of the "Winthrop Sewing Circle" to the beneficiaries in Amherst College. It devolved upon me as Secretary of the Society to write the letter accompanying the package; so of course I chose rather to write to a friend rather than to a stranger. Will you do us the favor to take the care of distributing them? It is the wish of the Society that four of the shirts and four dickies should be given to Mr. Y.L. Dickinson, from Granby, who I believe is a member of the Senior Class. This gentleman once resided in the Crosby's family; he feels a particular interest in him, and desired that he should share in the distribution. The remainder we leave to be given according to the discretion and judgment of your society. I hope this will not be too great a tax upon your time, but I feel confident that you will not consider it as such, if you feel the same interest in the beneficiaries, as when I was in Amherst. As to the needle book, it was done in a Sewing Society, and to say that to one who has had so much experience in such matters, will be a perfectly reasonable way of accounting for all defects and deficiencies. Now I believe I have said all that is necessary upon the subject.

I have heard frequently from you this past winter, and am very glad to hear your health is improving. Cousin Ann usually reads us passages from your letters, which interest me exceedingly, as I then hear an account of the sayings and doings of your family circle.

How much I should like to see Miss Ann Scholfield Fiske dressed in her little blue apron embroidered with white; and take a walk with Helen out in the garden, if it is not too early in the season, but say to Helen I always think of her walking out in the garden gathering flowers and picking [collards?], but then I suppose that two years has produced quite a change in this respect, and I ought to think of her now sitting by the side of her mother sewing or reading some interesting book. There is a pretty little book called "The Way for a Child to be Saved", which if she has not read would I think be interesting and profitable for her to read. Does she go to Sabbath School? How I should like to have her in my class, with my little girls. Give my love to her, and as she has commenced writing letters I should be happy to receive one from her and then she can answer all my questions.

It will undoubtedly interest you, to hear of the revival, which we hope has but just commenced in Charlestown. It began in the Winthrop Society, it has been very still and quiet, about thirty conversions, it has extended to Dr. Fay's and about the same number there. In the midst of it Mr. Crosby's health began to fail, he found it necessary to leave us for a season. Which you can well imagine was a great affliction to us; he has been gone about three weeks, is expected to return however, this week.

And what do you think of Aunt Vinal's moving to Charlestown? Will it not be delightful! Uncle has really bought a house, and we hope will move into it when it is finished. And what if Mr. Hooker should come to Boston? and be settled at the Old South. These will be indeed wonderful changes.

The first part of this letter, relative to the shirts, I read to the managers of our circle; they wished me to state in addition, that there is among the beneficiaries a gentleman from Charlestown named Poor, and they would not wish to have any of the shirts given to him, as our Society intends making a debt expressly for him; and it would be better to give them to some who will not be so well provided for.

Mother sends her love to you. My kind remembrances to Mr. Fiske. It would give me great pleasure to have a letter directly from you if your time is not too much occupied.

Yours truly

Abby Tufts

Addressed: Mrs. Professor Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Postmarked: Boston, Mass, APR 14

Halifax 12th April 1836 Tuesday Eve.

My dear Cousin

Yours of the 4th was this day received, found me all in a bustle preparing for my journey to Boston, although a degree of uncertainty at present hangs over it, in consequence of Aroline's being unwell. she attended meeting on Fast day, and has not been able to go out since or hardly to get from her bed to the fire; she has had two very large biles, which have not only been extremely painful and troublesome, but have affected her health, causing faintness, sickness at the stomach and dizziness, with quite a degree of fever, and of course loss of appetite; they broke last night and will probably soon heal, but she had just got over one quite large one when these began to come, and she seems quite debilitated. -- If she was well, I would, to accommodate you, relinquish my own visit at Boston, and get her ready as well as I could, to go up with her Brother but I think as the case now stands, you might have cause to wish I had kept her with me -- we know not how long she may be afflicted in this way -- last fall, and along the first of the winter, she had two, and three at a time, untill they amounted to more than twenty - she bore them patiently, as every one said they were wholesome, and would carry off the bad humours which doubtless occasioned her sickness in the spring -- we concluded they had been an advantage, for she has enjoyed uninterrupted health the past winter -- but as they have broke out again, we feel that it would not be doing right by you or her, to send her to Amherst, untill we have given her medicine to work thoroughly in the blood, and find out whether she can be of any service to you or not -- thus you will see the probability of her leaving home any sooner, if so soon, as I at first named -- Am much obliged to you for the cap pattern, and much amused by your observations on the fashion which has of late been in vogue, I have ever approved the sight of them. I have not tried your pattern yet, but it seems to me it will be on the other extreme, and look like a crowers tail, after a hard shower; especially if there is to be a bow where it is pugged up behind -- were I to follow the dictates of my inclination, I would assume a more serious strain, and write more; but it is getting late -- My Husband sits patiently waiting for me to retire, and I must address a few lines to sister, so adieu dear Cousin for the present

Yours

Alice V.P.
Mrs. D.W.V. Fiske

Tuesday Eve. past ten o'clock.

Dear Sister Jane,

I cannot fold this sheet, without addressing a few lines to you, I am sorry indeed to hear of your ill health. I had fondly hoped that the salubrious breezes of the western hills, would have prevented any return of your old complaints and am even now cheering myself with the hope, that you are ere this, quite well again -- Cousin informs me you think of visiting Mrs. Tillson, and I can now communicate to you what we have lately heard from them, by a letter from Mrs. T. she writes she has another Son about six weeks old, which weighed only five pounds and a few ounces at his birth; but little more than half as much as her other children weighed, that she is not as well as she usually is when at three weeks after her confinement. -- (I resume my pen at twelve oclock, having been called off to make motherowort tea, and heat earthen, for Aroline, who has had one of her spells of severe pain, such as she used to have occasionally last spring, but has not been troubled with them this winter at all) -- Mrs. Tillson says she has not been able to do her work since last fall; had Betsey with her, when she wrote, who was very anxious to get back to Halifax, she went up last fall with her Brother -- I fear if you should go there, you would have a poor chance to rest though I do not doubt they would be extremely happy to see you - I have this day received a letter from Brother N. in answer to me Mr. Pratt wrote him, wishing to know if he had moved, that I might know where to find him; he has moved into his own house in vine St. H. is on a visit at Randolph all well -- I wrote to Father last week, but have had no answer yet; no news from Brother Charles as I can learn. I likewise wrote to Aunt O.V. acknowledging her kind present of a netting Cap - I also wrote to Mrs. Tillson, and to Wm last week - and now I am very tired and sleepy, tomorrow must wash, could not wash on Monday, so much to do for A. - My letters look very bad, and need an apology, but time nor paper, nor in fact my eyes, will admit -- write as often as you can, and I will answer all your letters you may depend --

Your affectionate Sister

Alice

Miss J. Waterman

this letter is to be sent to Plymouth to be mailed, as there is no mail from here but once in a week, and that on Monday.

Addressed: Mrs. Nathan Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Care of Rev. L. H. Spofford.

[Wednesday] Marshfield April 27th 1836.

Dear Madam,

I hope you will excuse my presuming to write to one so much my superior in age, and abilities, on the ground of a promise which I made you when last you were at Marshfield, which was to write you as soon as I was able to write a legible hand, and it is not owing to forgetfulness, that I have not fulfilled my promise long before, but to a sense of my inability to perform the task, neither do I now feel myself equal to it, but having an opportunity of sending a letter directly to you by the hand of Mr. Spofford, I concluded to attempt it, trusting that you would not criticise upon my feeble endeavours. Many my dear friend, have been the changes within the circle of our friends, and acquaintances, since last you visited us; we have often been called to drink deep of the bitter cup of affliction in parting with our nearest, and best friends. Within the space of six short, fleeting years, I have been deprived of a beloved parent, both my grandparents, my sister Maria, and also her husband, besides several other more distant relatives, by the relentless hand of death; but it is to be hoped they have exchanged this vain, and transitory world, for one in which they will dwell in the presence of their God in happiness unspeakable to all eternity. Should this be their happy lot, we ought not to regret their being called away from the vain, and sordid pursuits of earth, to the enjoyment of unbounded felicity.

You will doubtless wish to hear what was the state of my grandmother's mind on the approach of death, to this I think I can say with safety, that she was perfectly resigned to the will of God, and willing to go whenever He saw fit to call her to Himself, she was uniformly calm and patient, throughout the whole of her sickness, she frequently spoke of you saying how much she wanted to see you and your children. My mother and myself, are now living with Aunt Deborah. My brother is married, has a very pleasant wife, and one child, a fine healthy boy of two years old, they live in the house that was formerly my fathers. Judith Clift has been very sick this winter, but is now so far recovered as to be able to attend to the domestick concerns of the family, her father and mother are quite feeble. Capt. T. Rogers and his wife, have moved into the other part of their house, to take care of them for life. Mr. Howland Rogers and wife, have moved into the house with Aunt Mary Clift, and her daughters. Should you wish to know anything more particular, concerning us or our friends you may probably gain some information respecting us from Mr. Spofford, who having officiated for some time as pastor over this parish, has quite an extensive acquaintance here, his removal from Scituate, has been much lamented by his friends, both there and in Marshfield. It would give us all much pleasure to receive a visit, or a letter, from you if you can make it convenient to favour us with either. My Mother and Aunt Deborah, with the neighbours generally, unite in kind respects to you, and your husband, with

Dear Madam,

Your sincere friend,

Rachel W. Rogers

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah V. Fiske, Care of Prof. N.W. Fiske, Amherst, Mass, Postmarked: Boston, Ms, JUL 26

[Monday] Boston July 24th 1837.

My Dear Mrs. Fiske

I received your welcome letter on Friday evening, & if I had a less tender conscience should have complied with your request, & written on saturday, but I have made it a rule, not to put a letter into the Office on that day, & thus encourage wicked men in transporting them on the sabbath. - not that I think I can prevent the transportation of the mail, but I will not be an aid, & abetter, in thus profaning the day.

I give you many thanks for your letter, it was what I hardly expected, since I heard how it injures you to write. It sounded just like yourself, & I felt for a few moments as if I was sitting by your side, & enjoying your easy chat. I felt that I could scold, as well as you, on finding that one of your valuable letters were was lost, I don't know how you directed it, & it may show itself yet. I will say now, lest I forget it, that Mary Jenkins received a letter from you last week, & said she should answer it soon. -- by the way, that is a very pleasant family, & they are very near me, I find a good many good folks in Park St church, more than I expected. I was prepared to love Mrs. Holmes, & I regard her as pure gold. I often wonder why so good a woman, should have such trials but it may be these very trials have been the means of making her what she is. I have not visited very much, but have made calls in abundance. As to the kind of influence I am creating, you must draw your own conclusions, from what you hear about Boston from the papers & elsewhere. I cannot tell you of any good, I am doing, you know already what I have been, & I suppose there is no material alteration in my character, tho' perhaps some in my habits. I think you hardly give me credit for my numberless visits at your house. I am quite sure you had more than any body else. My situation here I regard as a responsible one, & one where since good might be done, by one who had a disposition to do it, & the requisite qualifications. I hope I am not entirely destitute of the former, & if I improve the one talent committed to me, I shall be approved of God, if not of man. I feel my weakness, & that of myself I can do nothing, but no work is too hard for God to perform, & he has promised to help those who trust in Him & to give them all they ask agreeably to His will.

Wednesday morn. I had written thus far, when husband brought me a stock to be repaired, that he wanted immediately, so my poor letter had to be laid aside till this morning. Yesterday I rode to Salem and passed the day, with husband & Susan, & I wish you would say to our folks at home, that I found them all comfortable. Sister Muny has been afflicted with rheumatism, & is still somewhat. She has rode out once - has a baby that cries two thirds, at least of the time, & help not the best.

The character you describe (& speak of as an acquaintance) I think must have existed only in your disordered imagination. I cannot think that poor human nature is sunk so low, poor ministers I know get dreadfully cheated sometimes, I feel sorry for such. They have an abundance of trials without this.

I trust ere this, peace is restored among you. I have heard a [shasting?] about you at College. & am surprised that such little matters should create a flame, Tho I know there is in such places, a great deal of combustible matter. How is Proff Condit? I have not heard his name since I came to B -- he was quite ill & it was feared he must leave his employment. I think a great deal of you all I assure you, though I have enough to employ my heart & hands, yet we cannot control the thoughts, at least I cannot; perhaps yours, are in better subjection.

Mr. Monroe you probably knew has removed to Newberry, & probably they will not return to the City. They have a delightful summer residence, but I think when winter comes, it will lose its charms. They think it will always be charming. We passed an hour with them a week or two since, & rambled with them over the road, & among the woods. Mrs. M - looks rather disconsolate, but perhaps it is owing to the state of her health. --

I have had eight nine calls, since I set down this time to write, & you must excuse the disconnected medley, & when it does you no hurt, write to me again, & if circumstances are favorable, I may write better. My love to the little girls. I am much obliged to Helen for her aff & invitation I think she does not know whether mu children would be an addition to yours. I should love to go to Amherst, but don't expect to at present. Give my kind regards to your husband. I remember him as one of my friends, & should like to have him come & see us. I hope my sisters remember that I have not heard from home in some time. Mr. & Mrs. Lindsley have been in this City & vicinity, this summer. I hardly know what they expect in these hard times. I have met Mrs. L. frequently.

You speak of your Father as though he was here. He has not been to church for quite a number of sabbaths, & we supposed he was at Amherst Mr. A - has tried to see him, but has failed as yet. He is not however discouraged. Your cousin Martha has called on me, but whether I shall ever go to Charlestown is uncertain. I should be very happy to see you here if it were not better for you to be at home.

Yours very Affectionately,
Sophie W.P. Aiken

Husband desires to be remembered to yourself & husband, you enquire if I have good help. I have two good consciencious girls apparently, & understand their business as well as girls generally. My nursery girl has no eyes, & of course cannot sew much, I need her for this
Addressed: Mrs. Fiske, care of Prof. N. Fiske, Amherst, Postmarked: Boston, Mass, AUG 10
Fav'd by Miss Jenkins
[In pencil -] As Mary has gone I must send this by Post.

[Wednesday] Boston, 9th August. 1837.

As I find you were so kind as to mention me in your letter to Mary J. my dear Deborah, I have the vanity to hope that a few lines may not be unacceptable, just to remind you of 'auld lang syne", if indeed you have time & inclination to think of those days, amidst present avocations & pleasures. Very probably, you are more frequently in my thoughts, than I am in yours - but we will -- this for the present & write as if you lived next door, before you met the "gentleman with spectacles," & had room in your kind heart, for spinsters like myself -- If it were possible, I should not hesitate to accept the invitation (was it? something of the kind, however,) to Commencement. I understood Mary that you asked if she could not bring me & some other friends to Amherst with her -- You are very kind, & indeed, my dear Deborah, nothing would better please me, than to find myself with you, & I should certainly take advantage of your remembrance, if there were nothing to prevent me from journeying about the country, as easily as our neighbors of Temple St. But this kind of pleasure has always been very sparingly allotted to me -- Perhaps I should enjoy it too much -- No doubt "all is for the best", in this respect, as in all others. - but you may be sure, to visit you, would give me sincere pleasure -- Many a time have I tried to imagine you in Amherst, giving you a "local habitation," that I might know how to think of you, as in that pleasant town -- I have heard enough of it to know that it is pleasant. & I so dislike the noise & bustle of a city, & love the country so dearly, that any place that is like it, would have charms for me. When I hear of persons changing a city residence for the country, I think they are going to see their best days -- & when the contrary, I absolutely pity them their loss of the sweet, pure air, & the lovely calm & quiet, that they will never find again -- besides various other losses & crosses that they will surely meet, sooner or later.

I dare say you will tell me, that there are both loses & crosses everywhere, & no mortal may expect to be exempt from them on this side heaven -- & hardly would a Christian wish it, if he would have his daily prayers for growth in grace answered. -- I suppose the truth is, with regard to troubles, the difference is more in kind, than in numbers -- but still it does seem that the country possesses a soothing power - & where can you find much to soothe in the city?

I always think of the old saying, "God made the country, & man made the town."

Since I saw you, your Aunt Vinal has left our neighbourhood, much to our regret, as we cannot now see her, often. -- Indeed I have not yet been to Charlestown since she has been there. One principal reason is, that my mother has been more ill than usual this spring & summer, & for many weeks, I went out very little. -- She had the Influenza first, & it really proved its right to the title of "the Grip" -- We all had it severely - & Mother, being such an invalid, could not throw it off, easily, then dyspepsia invaded her illness. You do not know how dull & low spirited I was, to see her so ill. She is better now, but is still feeble,& indeed, now has a well day -- I hope you & yours are all well, & that we may hope to see you in Boston soon. -- I suppose, however, that Charlestown would engross all your time. I hear that your Aunt & family are now at Falmouth, so I must still defer my call -- We have not yet become much acquainted with your friend, Mrs. Aiken -- & but little with Mr. A -- It is but lately that we have called on her, as I waited till Mother was able, & it is an effort to her, to go anywhere --

If you could see how the flies are "plaguing" me, this close, dog-day weather, you would wonder how I contrive to keep patience sufficient to carry me through so much scribbling, if you did not recollect that the letter was for yourself -- However, you may think I am only following the fhis' example, & pursuing the teasing system - & for fear you shd make sundry reflections on "evil communications," I will spare you, for this time -- Mother desires to be affectionately remembered to you. -- Remember us also to your husband, & ask him to bring you to Boston, forthwith. --

See that Mary & Nate behave well, while they are with you, & do send a letter by them, to your affectionate

Catherine. [Welley?]

Addressed: Mrs. Deborah W. Fiske, Amherst, Mass.

Answered February 22nd 1838 [Thursday]

Sunday Eve Dec. 9 1837.
[error in date; should be Dec 10]

Dear Cousin Deborah.

I was ignorant of the cause of your silence until I read the letter you wrote to Sister E. knowing from what little correspondence, I have had with you, that you have always paid your debts promptly.

I have not received a letter from you, since your father came from Amherst, last spring, if you have written since then, I wish to know it. Mother recived one from you at the same time, respecting Mr. Bachelder, both of which I answered in one letter, I handed them it to Brother Otis giving him one at the same time to go to New York, neither of which were mailed, directed, it is so long since, he has no recollection of it. I presume the letter is traversing the world, in search of an owner. I hardly dare tell you, I have been to Westminster, since I wrote you I intendended when I left Boston to come to Amherst, but it was so late, on the season, before I made my my visit out there, and so cold, being the last of Oct. I concluded it was best to come home, the shortest way, and defer my next visit in the country till warmer weahter. Next spring if I live, and nothing happens, I shall certainly make you a visit. If you are not so much offended with me, that you do not want to see me. I should not blame you if you were, I have made you so many promises, I expect you think I do not want to come, but I certainly do. I know I should enjoy myself so well, rambling round with you. I have not forgotten the promise you made me, while at D. you must have the gentleman in readiness. I have kept the bonnet and shoes with that expectation. I suppose it will not do to ask you to come to Boston, your Father is so much opposed to it. How is your health now? are you troubled with the Dyspepsia? This seems to be a general complaint among the Vinal's. and a most trying complaint it is. it makes me so cross, I can hardly bear to be spoken to.

I guess you will think paper is a scarce article with us, this is all we had in the house, and I did not like to send out being Sunday, to get more. You must excuse my writing to you on Sunday, but I knew I should not have time, before your Father left the City in the morning. I do not make a practice of writing letters on Sunday. I should like to fill up my paper, but it is growing dark, and I must bid you good bye, and go about my tea. Our girl is sick a bed and we are our own maids now. Do write me as soon as you can, and give me a description of that gentleman, if you have selected one. Friends all well, and send love to you and Mr. F. Please kiss your two little Daughters for me. I tried to persuade D. to write to Hellen but she thought her writing would be so much inferior, to hers, she would laugh it. I expect I shall be obliged to wear glasses before a great while my eye sight is so poor. If you can make out to read this scrawl I shall be very glad. If I thought you had any criticks at Amherst, I should be tempted to copy this off again, but knowing that you are possessed of so much charity, I will venture to send it, praying hoping that you will burn it, as soon as you have read it.

Your affectionate Cousin

M.S. Vinal

Addressed: Mrs. D.W.V. Fiske, Amherst, Mass
Answered January 29th

[Friday] Woburn January 5th 1838.

Dear Mrs. Fiske,

Our Female Charitable Society have prepared a few articles for the Beneficiaries of your College, which you will please to dispose of according to your judgment. We should have filled a larger box for them, but our attention the past season has been turned to Mt. Holyoke Institution, for which we have been busy. I succeeded in getting two rooms furnished there, beside other articles.

We were happy in seeing your good husband here this summer, though very sorry to have so short a visit, which by the way he promised to lengthen by another short one on his way from Andover. I hope he will reserve more time for us when he comes this way again, & if it pleases God to spare all our lives it would afford us great pleasure to see you both here together - or if you should again visit your friends separately, then I hope you will each remember to include us among the friends you visit.

You may have heard of the dangerous illness with which I was attacked three weeks after your husband was here at which time I was quite well as I had been during the summer and continued to be untill my new attack of pulmonary difficulties.

The day previous I was out on a begging excursion for Mt. Holyoke felt no unusual fatigue on account of my walk, but after sleeping well during the night, began at an early hour in the morning to expectorate blood quite freely for six days. Then it ceased & I have since been rapidly gaining to the surprise of my friends & physicians. I am now quite comfortable though feeble - have been able to attend Church four half days & to resume my labours in the Sabbath School. I have surely great reason to be humble & grateful that God has dealt so kindly in his chastisement & in judgment remembered mercy. My health has been so precarious of late that it seems as if one foot stood upon life, the other upon death. What God designs to do whether to continue life & protract disease - or to destroy - or to heal - remains among the uncertainties of futurity but of one thing there is a certainty that I am in the hands of Him who does all things well, & knows infinitely better than his short-sighted creatures what is best for them. -- I was reading the other day in B.B. Edwards book of self taught men the account of R. Baxter who though attacked at the early age of seventy-five sixteen with cough spitting blood, lived to the advanced age of seventy five. His oft repeated sicknesses quickened him in being good & doing good - most of his writings were penned under the impression that he was about to die -- Would that all similarly afflicted might be thus benefitted.

I am a firm believer in the opinion discarded by many, that lung diseases are sometimes enviable. It is stated by the Boston Medical Journal that cases have occurred in this vicinity of persons who have exhibited strong marks of consumption, who have recovered and after the lapse of years have died of some other disease, & on a post mortem examination the scars discernable upon the lungs, showed that tubercles of a large size once existed there, & which owing to some cause were happily removed. Probably such cases are not very common. But enough have transpired that none need despair, & but few that none ought to presume. But the impression which is sometimes received that a disease is incurable may in some instances render it more difficult of [paper missing]

How is friend Woodman getting along? When you write to inform me that you have received the box, please ask your husband what information you shall give about the individual who shared so largely in his conversation with Mr Bennett. We think that he is now doing very well, & that he has profited as we most of us may from experience.

Mr B unites with me in respects to your husband & yourself. Should you hear from me as sinking under another attack of bleeding be assured a letter from either or both of you would be consolatory. I was very much gratified by the reception of letters from several friends as soon as they heard of my sickness - particularly one from the Rev. Mr. Chickering of Portland. But I have lengthened my epistle unseasonably. Yours affectionately

M.L.B.

List of articles contained in the box

12 shirts 6 pr socks.2 pair of sheets -
Comforter given by our late Dea Gardner made for his son Henry four years since to carry to Amherst - but just as he was fitted to enter he was seized with consumption & died in three months. The father, mother, brother, & sister all eminently pious died within the last four years, of consumption

Addressed: Mrs. Fiske.

My dear Mrs. Fiske,

I have been making some Diet Bread - please to have some of it - I wish that you may not expect to find it any-thing extraordinary, for if you do you will be disappointed. If you, in your kindness send me all manner of good things, you will allow me, faintly though it be, to