XIII COURTESIES OF THE CRAFT General Washington waxes facetious over a dinner invitation (To Dr. John Cochrane) R. DOCTOR, DR; WEST-POINT, 16 August, 1779 I have asked Mrs. Cochran & Mrs. Livingston to dine with me to-morrow; but am I not in honor bound to apprize them of their fare? As I hate deception, even where the imagination only is concerned; I will. It is needless to premise, that my table is large enough to hold the ladies. Of this they had ocular proof yesterday. To say how it is usually covered, is rather more essential; and this shall be the purport of my Letter. Since our arrival at this happy spot, we have had a ham, (sometimes a shoulder) of Bacon, to grace the head of the Table; a piece of roast Beef adorns the foot; and a dish of beans, or greens, (almost imperceptible,) decorates the center. When the cook has a mind to cut a figure, (which I presume will be the case tomorrow,) we have two Beef-steak pyes, or dishes of crabs, in addition, one on each side the center dish, dividing the space & reducing the distance between dish & dish to about 6 feet which without them would be near 12 feet apart. Of late he has had the surprising sagacity to discover, that apples will make pyes; and its a question, if, in the violence of his efforts, we do not get one of apples, instead of having both of Beef-steaks. If the ladies can put up with such entertainment, and will submit A Cautious Female to partake of it on plates, once Tin but nc w Iron-(not become so by the labor of scouring), I shall be happy to see them; and am, dear Doctor, yours, &c. ... Aaron Burr regrets NEW-YORK, April 18, 1804 YOUR vanity, if in any degree concerned, will be fully satisfied by the assurance that my heart, my wishes, and my thoughts will be with you. The mortal part of me is indispensably otherwise engaged. As you cannot fail to have admirers, you cannot fail to be amused. Knowing that you are happy, I shall be so by sympathy, though in a less degree, as reflected light is less potent than direct. A. BURR Dr. Holmes accepts MY 296 BEACON STREET, February 11, 1862 [Y DEAR MR. FIELDS,-On Friday evening last I white-cravated myself, took a carriage, and found myself at your door at eight of the clock P.M. A cautious female responded to my ring, and opened the chained portal about as far as a clam opens his shell to see what is going on in Cambridge Street, where he is waiting for a customer. Her first glance impressed her with the conviction that I was a burglar. The mild address with which I accosted her removed that impression, and I rose in the moral scale to the comparatively elevated position of what the unfeeling world calls a "sneak-thief." By dint, however, of soft words, and that look of ingenuous simplicity by which I am so well known to you and all my friends, I coaxed her into the belief that I was nothing worse than a rejected cor'tributor, an autograph collector, an author with a volume of poems to dispose of, or other disagreeable but not dangerous character. She unfastened the chain, and I stood before her. I calmed her fears, and she was calm And told me how you and Mrs. F. had gone to New York, and how she knew nothing of any literary debauch that was to come off under your roof, but would go and call another unprotected female who knew the past, present, and future, and could tell me why this was thus, that I had been lured from my fireside by the ignis fatuus of a deceptive invitation. It was my turn to be afraid, alone in the house with two of the stronger sex; and I retired. On reaching home, I read my note and found it was Friday the 16th, not the 9th, I was invited for. . . Dear Mr. Fields, I shall be very happy to come to your home on Friday evening, the 16th February, at eight o'clock, to meet yourself and Mrs. Fields, and hear Mr. James read his paper on Emerson. A dinner note from Daniel Webster DEAR (To Mrs. Fletcher Webster) EAR CAROLINE, (Daughter Caroline - not wife I had made up my mind to enjoy the luxury of a dish of baked beans today but am willing to dine with you, & shall do so with great pleasure, if you will let me br'g my beans with me· Therefore, look out for me & the beans, already cooked, at 2 O clock. D. W. Words of Wisdom XIV THE FINE ART OF LIVING "These few precepts" (Thomas Jefferson to Thomas Jefferson Smith) THIS HIS letter will, to you, be as one from the dead. The writer will be in the grave before you can weigh its counsels. Your affectionate and excellent father has requested that I would address to you something which might possibly have a favorable influence on the course of life you have to run; and I too, as a namesake, feel an interest in that course. Few words will be necessary, with good dispositions on your part. Adore God. Reverence and cherish your parents. Love your neighbor as yourself, and your country more than yourself. Be just. Be true. Murmur not at the ways of Providence. So shall the life into which you have entered, be the portal to one of eternal and ineffable bliss. And if to the dead it is permitted to care for the things of this world, every action of your life will be under my regard. Farewell. MONTICELLO, February 21st, 1825 From S. N. Randolph's "Domestic Life of Thomas Jefferson," published by Harper & Brothers. Benjamin Franklin shuffles the cards and begins another game (To Mrs. Mary Hewson, May 6, 1786) HAVE found my family here in health, good circumstances, and well respected by their fellow citizens. The companions of my youth are indeed almost all departed, but I find an agreeable society among their children and grandchildren. I have public business enough to preserve me from ennui, and private amusement besides in conversation, books, my garden, and cribbage. Considering our well-furnished, plentiful market as the best of gardens, I am turning mine, in the midst of which my house stands, into grass plots and gravel walks, with trees and flowering shrubs. Cards we sometimes play here, in long winter evenings; but it is as they play at chess, not for money, but for honor, or the pleasure of beating one another. This will not be quite a novelty to you, as you may remember we played together in that manner during the winter at Passy. I have indeed now and then a little compunction in reflecting that I spend time so idly; but another reflection comes to relieve me, whispering, "You know that the soul is immortal; why then should you be such a niggard of a little time, when you have a whole eternity before you?" So, being easily convinced, and, like other reasonable creatures, satisfied with a small reason, when it is in favor of doing what I have a mind to, I shuffle the cards again, and begin another game. The futility of mere feeling (William Ellery Channing to William Shaw) Y DEAR FELLOW, — . MY My whole life has been a struggle with my feelings. Last winter I thought myself victorious. But earth-born Antæus has risen stronger than ever. I repeat it, my whole life has been a struggle with my feelings. Ask those with whom I have lived, and they will tell you that I am a stoic. I almost thought so myself. But I only smothered a fire which will one day consume me. I sigh for tranquil happiness. I have long wished that my days might flow along like a gentle stream which fertilizes its banks and reflects |