“——Charles comes to you to-morrow. I hope this will not displease you. But I set my heart and soul on his learning no idle habits. I could almost wish that he had not a day’s holiday between the two schools: the Charter House concludes at eleven o’clock to-morrow, and I believe it would poison all my tranquillity to see him wasting three days to no earthly purpose that I can conceive, being the precise difference between Tuesday and Friday. I have been with him to Tate’s to-day, and half over the town, among Jews and Christians, to ascertain precisely Tate’s character and his competence for what he undertakes. It strikes me that (if we can get on) our tranquillity depends more upon Charles than upon any human creature. I hope, but I tremble while I hope. I watch all his motions, and live in his looks.
“Give a thousand loves to William and Mary. By the way, you do not insert in your letter a single message from either, which I regard as a portentous and criminal omission in each.”
