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TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 13th February, 1794.

I received your letter and enclosures yesterday in Senate. I stopped reading the letter, and took up the story in the place you directed; was really affected by the interesting little tale, faithfully believing it to have been taken from the Mag. D’Enf., and was astonished and delighted when I recurred to the letter and found the little deception you had played upon me. It is concisely and handsomely told, and is indeed a performance above your years.

Mr. Leshlie is not, I am afraid, a competent judge of what you are capable of learning; you must convince him that you can, when you set in earnest about it, accomplish wonders.

Do you mean that the forty lines which you construed in Virgil were in a part you had not before learned?

I despair of getting genuine Tent wine in this city. There never was a bottle of real unadulterated Tent imported here for sale. Mr. Jefferson, who had some for his own use, has left town. Good Burgundy and Muscat, mixed in equal parts, make a better Tent than can be bought. But by Bartow’s return you shall have what I can get–sooner if I find a conveyance.

Bartow is the most perfect gossip I ever knew; though, I must say, it is the kind of life I have advised him to while he stays here. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 7th March, 1794.

Your letter of the 4th was three days on the road. I am certain that I have answered punctually all which have come to hand. True, I have not written to you as frequently as during the first few weeks of my residence here. For the last month I have been very much occupied by public business. You will need no other proof of it when I tell you that near twenty unanswered letters are now on my desk, not one of yours among them, however, except that received last evening. I have not even been to the theatre except about an hour, and then it was more an errand of business than amusement.

Poor Tom, [3] I hope you take good care of him. If he is confined by his leg, &c., he must pay the greater attention to his reading and writing.

I shall run off to see you about Sunday or Monday; but the roads are so extremely bad that I expect to be three days getting through. I will bring with me the cherry sweetmeats, and something for _Augusta Louisa Matilda Theodosia Van Horne_. I believe I have not recollected all her names.

Affectionately,

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 31st March, 1794.

I am distressed at your loss of time. I do not, indeed, wholly blame you for it, but this does not diminish my regret. When you want punctuality in your letters, I am sure you want it in every thing; for you will constantly observe that you have the most leisure when you do the most business. Negligence of one’s duty produces a self-dissatisfaction which unfits the mind for every thing, and _ennui_ and peevishness are the never-failing consequences. You will readily discover the truth of these remarks by reflecting on your own conduct, and the different feelings which have flowed from a persevering attention to study, or a restless neglect of it.

I shall in a few days (this week) send you a most beautiful assortment of flower-seeds and flowering shrubs. If I do not receive a letter from you to-morrow, I shall be out of all patience. Every day’s journal will, I hope, say something of mamma.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 7th June, 1794.

I have received my dear Theo.’s two little, very little, French letters. The last left you tormented with headache and toothache, too much for one poor little girl to suffer at one time, I am sure: you had doubtless taken solue sudden cold. You must fight them as well as you can till I come, and then I will engage to keep them at bay.

I remark that you do not acknowledge the receipt of a long letter which I wrote you on the road the night after I left New-York. I hope it has not missed you; but it is needless now to ask about it, for I shall certainly see you before I could receive your answer to this.

Whatever you shall translate of Terence, I beg you to have copied in a book in a very fair handwriting.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Albany, 4th August, 1794.

MY DEAR THEO.,

We arrived here yesterday, after a hot, tedious passage of _seven days_. We were delayed as well by accidents as by calms and contrary winds, The first evening, being under full sail, we ran ashore at Tappan, and lay there aground, in a very uncomfortable situation, twenty-four hours. With great labour and fatigue we got off on the following night, and had scarce got under sail before we missed our longboat. We lost the whole tide in hunting for it, and so lay till the morning of Wednesday. Having then made sail again, with a pretty strong head wind, at the very first tack the Dutch horse fell overboard. The poor devil was at the time tied about the neck with a rope, so that he seemed to have only the alternatives of hanging or drowning (for the river is here about four miles wide, and the water was very rough); fortunately for him, the rope broke, and he went souse into the water. His weight sunk him so deep that we were at least fifty yards from him before he came up. He snorted off the water, and turning round once or twice, as if to see where he was, then recollecting the way to New-York, he immediately swam off down the river with all force. We fitted out our longboat in pursuit of him, and at length drove him on shore on the Westchester side, where I hired a man to take him to Frederick’s. All this delayed us nearly a whole tide more. The residue of the voyage was without accident, except such as you may picture to yourself in a small cabin, with seven men, seven women, and two crying children–two of the women being the most splenetic, ill-humoured animals you can imagine.

On my arrival here I was delighted to receive your letter of the 30th, with the journal of that and the preceding days. Your history of those three days is very full and satisfactory, and has induced me, by way of return, to enlarge on the particulars of my journey. I am quite gratified that you have secured Mrs. Penn’s (observe how it is spelled) good opinion, and content with your reasons for not saying the civil things you intended. In case you should dine in company with her, I will apprize you of one circumstance, by a trifling attention to which you may elevate yourself in her esteem. She is a great advocate for a very plain, rather abstemious diet in children, as you may see by her conduct with Miss Elizabeth. Be careful, therefore, to eat of but one dish; that a plain roast or boiled: little or no gravy or butter, and very sparingly of dessert or fruit: not more than half a glass of wine; and if more of any thing to eat or drink is offered, decline it. If they ask a reason–Papa thinks it not good for me, is the best that can be given.

It was with great pain and reluctance that I made this journey without you. But your manners are not yet quite sufficiently formed to enable you to do justice to your own character, [4] and the expectations which are formed of you, or to my wishes. Improve, therefore, to the utmost the present opportunity; inquire of every point of behaviour about which you are embarrassed; imitate as much as you can the manners of Madame De S., and observe also every thing which Mrs. Penn says and does.

You should direct your own breakfast. Send Cesar every morning for a pint of milk for you; and, to save trouble to Madame De S., let her know that you eat at breakfast only bread and butter.

I wish you would read over your letters after you have written them; for so many words are omitted, that in some places I cannot make out the sense, _if any they contain_. Make your figures or ciphers in your letters, but write out the numbers at length, except dates. Adieu, affectionately adieu,

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Albany, 14th August, 17 94.

MY DEAR THEO.,

Last evening’s mail brought me your letter and journal from the 1st to the 11th of August, according to your dates, which, however, are wrong.

The account of your time is very satisfactory. You really get along much better than I expected, which is infinitely to the credit of your good sense, that being your only guide. From the attentions you receive from Mrs. Penn and her family, I judge you have been so fortunate as to gain her esteem, and that her prejudices are turned into prepossessions, which I assure you gratified me not a little.

Your invitation to the Z.’s was, I confess, a very embarrassing dilemma, and one from which it was not easy to extricate yourself. For the future, take it as your rule to visit only the families which you have known me to visit; and if Madame De S. should propose to you to visit any other, you may tell her what are my instructions on the subject. To the young ladies, you may pretend business or engagements: avoid, however, giving any offence to your companions. It is the manner of a refusal, much more than the refusal, which gives offence. This direction about your visits applies only to the citizens or English families. You may, indeed it is my wish, that you should visit with Madame De S. all her French acquaintance.

I go this afternoon to attend a court at Ballston, and shall, on Monday, attend one at Troy, which will probably last about three days; after which I shall take passage for New-York, proposing, however, to pass a day at Kingston, and another at Poughkeepsie, with citizen Hauterieve, so that I may be expected home some time in the week after next; but you will hear often from me before that time. You must not send me any letter after those which will come by the mail leaving New-York on Monday next; yet you must continue your letters and journal as usual, for my amusement on my return.

In future, write no more on the little paper, but let the letters and journal be together on paper of this size, or common letter-paper. Set apart every day half an hour or an hour to write to me, and I must again entreat you to write at least legibly: after great pains, I am wholly unable to decipher some of the hieroglyphics contained in your last.

Four pages in Lucian was a great lesson; and why, my dear Theo., can’t this be done a little oftener? You must, by this time, I think, have gone through Lucian. I wish you to begin and go through it again; for it would be shameful to pretend to have read a book of which you could not construe a page. At the second reading you will, I suppose, be able to double your lessons; so that you may go through it in three weeks. You say nothing of writing or learning Greek verbs;–is this practice discontinued? and why?

I wish you to go oftener to the house. You may, if you like, go any morning, to take an early breakfast there, giving notice the day before to Mr. Leshlie, that he may attend at the hour of your return, when I know you can readily make up the lost time.

Do you continue to preserve Madame De S.’s good opinion of your talents for the harp? And do you find that you converse with more facility in the French? These are interesting questions, and your answer to this will, I hope, answer fully, all the questions it contains. Vale, vale.

A. BURR

TO THEODOSIA,

Albany, 16th August, 1704.

Another post has arrived, and brought me no letter from you. It is the last omission which I shall readily pardon, and this only in consideration of your not having then received my last. I returned this day from Ballston, and my principal business to this city was to receive and answer your letters. Judge, therefore, of my disappointment.

Mr. and Mrs. Witbeck made many inquiries about you, and appeared much mortified that you did not accompany me.

I hope you will, before this can reach you, have answered J. Yates’s letter. Once more I place my expectations on the arrival of the next post.

Let me know whether Mrs. Penn has left town, how often you have been with her, and what passed. I need not repeat my anxiety to know how you and Madame de S. agree, and what progress you make in music, dancing, and speaking French. She promised to give you now and then a lesson on the forte-piano; is she as good as her word?

Having failed in your promise to write by every post, you cannot expect me to return within the month–one promise being founded on the other.

Your affectionate papa,

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Albany, 18th August, 1794.

Yesterday I received your letter and journal to the 13th inclusive. On the 13th you say you got nine pages in Lucian. It was, to be sure, a most surprising lesson. I suspect it must have been the second time going over; and even then it would have been great, and at the same rate you will be through a second time before my month is up. I should be delighted to find it so. I have not told you directly that I should stay longer than a month, but I was angry enough with you to stay three months when you neglected to write to me for two successive posts.

I am very sorry to see so many blank days with Mr. Leshlie. If he is not at your room within a quarter of an hour of his time, Cesar should be forthwith sent off express for him. Let Cesar, therefore, call on you every morning at the hour Mr. Leshlie ought to come.

I left New-York on the 28th of July. My month, therefore, will expire on the 28th of August, so that you cannot complain until that day is past. The court at Troy will probably detain me the whole of this week, which is three days longer than I expected.

I long to hear what you contributed towards Madame de S.’s _jour de fete_. No letter yet for John Yates. Why do you delay it so long? You have had several leisure days; for this delay there should be some apology in your letter.

Affectionately your papa,

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Troy, 21st August, 1794.

MY DEAR THEO.,

I sent Alexis in the rain to Albany for your letter of the 18th and journal, which he has just brought me. Your letters are my only consolation during this afflicting absence–for it is to me a real affliction. I have forborne to express to you my impatience, lest it should increase yours.

The business I have undertaken here will, contrary to all expectation, detain me till Saturday night. I hope to be on my return on Monday, when you must begin to pray for northerly winds; or, if you have learned, to say mass, that the French Roman Catholics rely on to procure them all earthly and spiritual blessings. By-the-by, if you have not been to the Roman chapel, I insist that you go next Sunday, if you are not engaged in some other party.

I am very happy to receive a letter for John Yates. I shall send it to him to-day; it is very handsome, and will please him much. I will indeed return with all possible speed. Continue your journal. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 21st December, 1794.

I obeyed faithfully the command in your letter which bade me read the journal first, and I read it with great eagerness, hoping to find what I did find in the last sentence. That 16th was really a surprising day. Three hundred and ninety-five lines, all your exercises, and all your music. Go on, my dear girl, and you will become all that I wish.

I keep carefully your letters and journals, and when we meet you shall read them again, which I am sure you will do with pleasure. It is always delightful to see and correct our own errors.

Monsieur Maupertuis is highly mortified that you should suppose him so ignorant as to have lost himself on the road. It seems he only went a little off the highway _from curiosity to see the country_.

I hope you like Terence. Can’t you lug a scrap from him now and then, apropos, into your letters? It will please

Your affectionate papa,

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA IN PHILADELPHIA.

New-York, 5th January, 1795.

You see me safe arrived in New-York. I have passed but one hour at Richmond Hill. It seems solitary and undesirable without you. They are all well, and much, very much disappointed that you did not come with me.

Pray write to Mrs. A., if but one line; she expects and deserves it. I was there last evening for the first time. Your picture is really like you; still it does not quite please me. It has a _pensive, sentimental_ air; that of a love-sick maid! Stewart has probably meant to anticipate what you may be at sixteen; but even in that I think he has missed it.

Bartow has grown immensely fat. Mrs. A. has recovered and walks about. There has been a serious attempt to institute masquerade. It has not succeeded, nor is it yet abandoned.

We (you and I) have both neglected one duty of civility. Some weeks ago Mrs. Jackson was polite enough to call on you, with Miss Jackson and Miss Brown, who left you cards. You have never returned the visit. I beg you to do it without delay. Doctor Edwards will probably make time to go with you for a few minutes. It is at Doctor Jackson’s in Third-street, between High and Arch.

Our house in Partition-street is very neatly finished, and pleases me much; so much that I propose to inhabit it upon our return from Philadelphia, at least until the hot weather.

You are now in the arms of Somnus, or ought to be; for though I date my letter the 5th, it is in truth about half past eleven at night of the 4th. So wants half an hour of the 5th. Dream on. _Salutem_.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Bristol, 14th September, 1795.

Saturday night I lodged at Elizabethtown, and, after two wettings, dined on Sunday with General Freelinghuysen. Madame (late Miss Yard) asked much after you, as did Maria, the general’s daughter. The family is a picture of cheerfullness and happiness. At Princeton (to-day) I met Le Mercier, who is well, except a broken scull, a face disfigured, and some bruises about the ribs–considerable deductions, you will say, from the “corpore sano.” They are the effects of a very huge beating bestowed on him (gratis) by two gentlemen of the town. He had some difference with one of them, who had challenged him, which Le Mercier refused, not being a Christian-like and clerical way of settling differences. So the challenger, with a friend (for L. M. could have thrashed him singly), took an opportunity to catch poor Le Mercier alone, and discussed the subject with him in the manner above stated.

Your friends Miss Stockton and Miss Smith said some civil things about you, and send abundance of love, which I promised them I would forget to deliver.

My journey thus far has been wonderfully fortunate, having only overset once and broken down once, which, considering that I am seventy miles on my route, is, for me, a very small list of grievances; but I shall count it full measure if I am prevented from entering Philadelphia to-morrow, which is a little to be apprehended.

You must pay off Meance and Hewlet for their attendance on you and Natalie. [5] They must be paid regularly at the end of each month. I forgot it. Get their accounts, and give them an order on Strong for the amount. When either of you want money, Roger Strong will furnish it. Pray settle also your account with Madame Senat, and write me that these things are done.

Tell Mr. Martel that I request that all the time he can spare you be devoted to Latin; that I have provided you with a teacher of French, that no part of his attention might be taken off. I will send from Philadelphia the certificate he requested, which escaped my memory while at New-York.

I fear it will puzzle you all to decipher this. You may show to Mr. Martel the clause which relates to him. Salutem, chere Theodosia.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 17th September, 1795.

By this post I received a letter from Colonel Ward, requesting leave to remove his family into my house, Richmond Hill. He lives, you may recollect, in the part of the town which is said to be sickly. I could not therefore refuse. He will call on you to go out with him. You had better, immediately on receipt of this, go out yourself, and apprize Anthony and Peggy.

Your letter to Kersaint is much to the purpose. It came by this day’s mail, though put in the postoffice on Tuesday, but after the closing of the mail. With it I have also received your letter, written, I suppose, on Tuesday evening, because it speaks of the circus; but, as usual, without date. I beg that, when you sit down to write a letter, you will begin by putting a date at the top; this will then presently become a habit, and will never be omitted.

I am sorry, very sorry that you are obliged to submit to some reproof. Indeed, I fear that your want of attention and politeness, and your awkward postures, require it. As you appear desirous to get rid of these bad habits, I hope you will soon afford no room for ill-nature itself to find fault with you–I mean in these particulars; for as to what regards your heart and your motives of action, I know them to be good, amiable, and pure. But to return to the subject of manners, &c. I have often seen Madame at table, and other situations, pay you the utmost attention; offer you twenty civilities, while you appeared scarcely sensible that she was speaking to you; or, at the most, replied with a cold _remercie_, without even a look of satisfaction or complacency. A moment’s reflection will convince you that this conduct will be naturally construed into arrogance; as if you thought that all attention was _due_ to you, and as if you felt above showing the least to anybody. I know that you abhor such sentiments, and that you are incapable of being actuated by them. Yet you expose yourself to the censure without intending or knowing it. I believe you will in future avoid it. Observe how Natalie replies to the smallest civility which is offered to her.

Your habit of stooping and bringing your shoulders forward on to your breast not only disfigures you, but is alarming on account of the injury to your health. The continuance in this vile habit will certainly produce a consumption: then farewell papa; farewell pleasure; farewell life! This is no exaggeration; no fiction to excite your apprehensions. But, setting aside this distressing consideration, I am astonished that you have no more pride in your appearance. You will certainly stint your growth and disfigure your person.

Receive with calmness every reproof, whether made kindly or unkindly; whether just or unjust. Consider within yourself whether there has been no cause for it. If it has been groundless and unjust, nevertheless bear it with composure, and even with complacency. Remember that one in the situation of Madame has a thousand things to fret the temper; and you know that one out of humour, for any cause whatever, is apt to vent it on every person that happens to be in the way. We must learn to bear these things; and, let me tell you, that you will always feel much better, much happier, for having borne with serenity the spleen of any one, than if you had returned spleen for spleen.

You will, I am sure, my dear Theodosia, pardon two such grave pages from one who loves you, and whose happiness depends very much on yours. Read it over twice. Make me no promises on the subject. On my return, I shall see in half an hour whether what I have written has been well or ill received. If well, it will have produced an effect. I have sent Alexis with your letter to Kersaint while I write this. After closing of the mail I shall present myself. To-morrow morning I take stage for Baltimore; thence to Washington, &c. You shall certainly hear often from me. You have not yet acknowledged the receipt of my letter from Bristol. R. Strong has received his, written at the same time. Having many letters to answer by this mail, I cannot add any thing sprightly to this dull letter. One dull thing you will hear me repeat without disgust, that I am your affectionate friend,

A. BURR

TO THEODOSIA.

City of Washington, 23d September, 1795.

I write from the house of our friends, Law and Duncanson, where I make my home. Miss Duncanson, who is mistress of the house, is a very sprightly, sensible, ladylike woman. My remarks on this city are reserved till we meet.

Your letter of the 17th, and one without date (I suppose the 18th), came in this evening. They contain more wit and sprightliness than you ever wrote in the same compass, and have amused me exceedingly. But why do you diminish their value by carelessness? There is an omission of one or more words in almost every sentence. At least I entreat you to read over your letters before you seal them: some clauses are absolutely unintelligible, though in several I can guess what word you intended.

Why are you still in town? I am very much dissatisfied with it; for Mr. Strong writes me that the fever is in Partition-street. I beg you to go off with a good parcel of books to Frederick’s.

I told Madame Senat that I should want the two front rooms in Partition-street, and the very small room which adjoins the smallest of the front rooms; and surely she will have room enough without it. Try to arrange this so; that is, by asking her if she cannot spare that room (the large front). Mr. Strong writes me that she is taking possession of it. In that case my papers will be moved, which will be very disagreeable to me.

I fix the 24th of October for my return; if any very extraordinary thing should detain me, you shall be advised of it seasonably. Direct to me at the city of Washington until the 10th of October. Tell R. Strong the same. I forgot to write it to him.

When, you go on any party from Pelham, to Brown’s Mrs. Cox’s, &c., your studies may be intermitted. At least as much of them as may be necessary. I am tired, and half sick; a great cold, for which I shall lie by here tomorrow.

Thine,

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

City of Washington,

26th September, 1795.

Since Tuesday last I have been here much against my will; arrested by high command; performing quarantine by authority not to be questioned or controverted. In plain English, I am sick. On Wednesday I found one side of my face as large as your uncle F.’s; red swollen eyes; ears buzzing and almost stopped; throat so closed as to refuse a passage to words out or food in; and a stupid mazy-headedness, well adapted to the brilliancy of my figure. Being the guest of my friends Law and Duncanson, I receive from them the most distressing attentions, but especially from Miss Duncanson, a well-bred, sprightly, and agreeable woman. My person had not, however, till this morning, received its last embellishment. Alexis came in at his usual hour, and presenting himself at my bedside, after staring at me for half a minute, exclaimed, with an air of great astonishment–_Diable!_ and not a word more. _Qu’a-t-il_, Alexis? To which he made not a word of reply, but fell to drawing up the curtains; and having also very deliberately opened the window-shutters, he returned again to his examination. After gazing for some time (which I found it useless to interrupt), he _diabled_ two or three times at intervals of some seconds, and then pronounced that I had _ou la petite verole ou la rougeole_; and to convince me, brought a glass. In truth he did not _diable_ without reason, for my whole face, neck, hands, and arms are most bountifully covered with something like the measles or rash. All these pleasant appearances seem to be the effects of a great cold, taken I know not when or how–

“_Nil illi larva aut tragicis upus esse cothurnis._”

My throat is something better, notwithstanding I went abroad yesterday.

Sunday, 27th September.

I am so much better to-day, that, if the weather was good, I should prosecute my journey if I could find the means of getting on; but the rain, which is continual and very heavy, keeps well and sick within doors.

It is now ten days since I have heard from you; a very long time, considering the situation in which you was left at the date of your last: in a city infected with a mortal and contagious fever. I hope, nay, I persuade myself that you obeyed my wishes by escaping from it to Pelham. The next mail will tell me, and, I trust, relieve me from an anxiety which pursues me day and night.

Monday, 28th September.

Your letter of the 21st, written, I suppose, at Dr. Brown’s, is just come in, and relieves me from a weight of anxiety about your health. I am sorry, however (very sorry), that you are not at Frederick’s, and am not absolutely either pleased or satisfied with the change.

Of attention and tenderness you will receive not only enough, but a great deal too much; and an indulgence to every inattention, awkward habit, and expression, which may lead you to imagine them to be so many ornaments: as to your language, I shall expect to find it perfectly infantine. As to studies or lessons, I do not know which of them you allude to, as you do not say what books you have taken up. If Mr. Leshlie is your _only_ master, as I suppose, your lesson must be larger than ever heretofore. Your translation of the comedy into French, if not finished, must go on; and if finished, something similar must be taken up. Some English or French history must employ a little of every day. I hope you will ride on horseback daily if the weather should permit–Sam [6] always with you. Visit your neighbours B. B. as often as you please, taking very great care not to surfeit the family with your charming company, which may happen much sooner than you would be inclined to believe.

You ought to be out of the Odyssey before this will reach you, counting only two hundred lines a day since we parted. You may begin the Iliad, if you please. Since you are at uncle B.’s, I will not now pretend to inquire into the motives, much less to censure. I have no doubt but you meant to do the best, and I now hope you will endeavour to make the best _of_ it, and bad enough that will be, with respect to all improvement, if I am not disappointed.

Pray allot an hour for your journal, and never let it be a day in arrear. I shall consider this as occupying usefully the hour which used to be Hewlet’s or Meance’s. At any rate, let me not, on my return, have occasion to apply to you the motto,

“Strenua me exercet inertia,”

nor that other of

“Operose nihil agit.”

But so improve your time that you may with pleasure review and commit it to journal.

—-“Hoc est, Vivere bis, vita priori frui.”

And let it, at no very distant period, be said of you,

“Tot, tibi, sunt, ergo dotes, quot sidera coelo.”

If you should never deserve this, it shall not be the fault of

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA IN PHILADELPHIA.

New-York, 8th February, 1796.

What will you think of the taste of New-York when I shall tell you that Miss Broadhurst is not very generally admired here? Such is the fact. I have contributed my feeble efforts to correct this opinion. Mat’s [7] child will not be christened until you shall be pleased to indicate the time, place, manner, and name.

I have promised Tom that he shall take me to Philadelphia if there be sleighing. The poor fellow is almost crazy about it. He is importuning all the gods for snow, but as yet they don’t appear to listen to him.

Your being in the ballette charms me. If you are to practise on Wednesday evening, do not stay away for the expectation of receiving me. If you should be at the ballette, I will go forthwith to see you. Adieu, chere fille.

A. Burr.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 16th January, 1797.

When I write to you oftener than your turn, you must not let it be known, or there will be jealousy. Your two letters of the 11th and 13th have so much wit, sprightliness, and good sense, that I cannot delay to tell you how much they pleased me. Go on, and you will write better than Cynthia herself. To aid your advances towards perfection, I shall often point out such errors as shall appear to me more particularly to claim your attention.

At present you fail most in punctuation. A very little thought will teach where the sense is complete and a full period is proper. The lesser pauses may be found by reading over two or three times what you may have written. You will naturally make small pauses where the sense shall require it. In spelling you are very well. Always write your name with great care. Adieu.

A. Burr.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 23d January, 1797.

You must not “puzzle all day,” my dear little girl, at one hard lesson. After puzzling faithfully one hour, apply to your arithmetic, and do enough to convince the doctor that you have not been idle. Neither must you be discouraged by one unlucky day. The doctor is a very reasonable man, and makes all due allowance for the levities as well as for the stupidity of children. I think you will not often challenge his indulgence on either score.

And do you regret that you are not also a woman? That you are not numbered in that galaxy of beauty which adorns an assembly-room? Coquetting for admiration and attracting flattery? No. I answer with confidence. You feel that you are maturing for solid friendship. The friends you gain you will never lose; and no one, I think, will dare to insult your understanding by such compliments as are most graciously received by too many of your sex.

How unpardonably you neglect C. and N. B. Where are the promised letters? I see with delight that you improve in diction, and in the combination and arrangement of your little ideas. With a view to farther improvement, your letters to me are a most useful exercise. I feel persuaded that all my hopes and wishes concerning you will be accomplished.

Never use a word which does not fully express your thoughts, or which, for any other reason, does not please you. Hunt your dictionary till you find one. Arrange a whole sentence in your mind before you write a word of it; and, whatever may be your “hurry” (never be in a _hurry_), read over your letter slowly and carefully before you seal it. Interline and erase lightly with your pen what may appear to you to require amendment or correction. I dispense with your copying unless the letter should be much defaced, in which case keep it till the next mail. Copy and improve it.

Your play on “Light” is pretty and witty, and the turn on the _dear little_ letter does not dishonour the metempsychosis of Madame Dacier.

I shall probably see you very soon; we will then rearrange your hours, and endeavour to remove the present and forestall all future troubles. I should be mortified–I should be almost offended–if I should find that you passed over any word in my letters without becoming perfectly acquainted with its meaning, use, and _etymology_.

Since I commenced this letter, yours of the 21st has come in. It speaks of another which has not come, and of Martel’s paper, neither of which have come. This arises from “hurry.” The note to Mr. Livingston is middling. Affectionately–no, you hate that word; perhaps every thing is implied in plain.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Albany, 4th January, 1799.

On Tuesday I arrived here, and yesterday received your two letters of the 29th and 30th of December. Your despondency distresses me extremely. It is indeed unfortunate, my dear Theodosia, that we are constrained to be separated. I had never so much need of your society and friendship, nor you, perhaps, of mine. It is a misfortune which I sincerely regret every hour of the day. It is one, however, which you must aid me to support, by testifying that you can support your share of it with firmness and activity. An effort made with decision will convince you that you are able to accomplish all I wish and all you desire. Determination and perseverance in every laudable undertaking is the great point of difference between the silly and the wise. It is essentially a part of your character, and requires but an effort to bring it into action. The happiness of my life depends on your exertions; for what else, for whom else do I live? Not that the acquisition of the languages alone can decide your happiness or mine; but if you should abandon the attempt, or despair of success, or relax your endeavours, it would indicate a feebleness of character which would dishearten me exceedingly. It is for my sake that you now labour. I shall acknowledge your advancement with gratitude and with the most lively pleasure. Let me entreat you not to be discouraged. I know you to be capable of much greater efforts than this will require. If your young teacher, after a week’s trial, should not suit you, dismiss him on any pretence without wounding his pride, and take the old Scotchman. Resolve to succeed, and you cannot fail.

I parted with you amid so much hurry and confusion, and so many vexations, that, when I had time to reflect, I seemed to have said none of the things which I had wished and intended. I reproached myself perpetually that I had not urged you to attend me. Your letters almost confirmed me in the design of returning to fetch you; and yet more sober reason seems to tell me that these things were rather the effusions of sentiment than of a deliberate estimate of your real interests. In six weeks, however, we shall meet.

I intended to have recommended to you the ancient and modern history of Millot. Natalie has some of the volumes–some are in the library at Mrs. D.’s, of which I hope you keep the key. Millot is concise, perspicuous, and well selected. Rollin is full of tedious details and superstitious nonsense.

There is nothing more certain than that you may form what countenance you please. An open, serene, intelligent countenance, a little brightened by cheerfullness, not wrought into smiles or simpers, will presently become familiar and grow into habit. A year will with certainty accomplish it. Your physiognomy has naturally much of benevolence, and it will cost you some labour (which you may well spare) to eradicate it. Avoid, for ever avoid, a smile or sneer of contempt; never even mimic them. A frown of sullenness or discontent is but one degree less hateful. You seem to require these things of me, or I should have thought them unnecessary. I see, with pleasure I see, that you have engaged in this matter. We shall both be gratified by the result, which cannot fail to accord with our wishes.

R. has a deal of godly coquetry. It makes a strange medley. I was most hospitably received, and full opportunity given with pretty apparent design. R. has promised to be in Albany in a month. Things are in _statu quo_.

I am unsettled, and at present at Witbeck’s. One would think that the town was going into mourning for your absence. I am perpetually stopped in the streets by little and big girls. Where is Miss Burr? Won’t she come up this winter? Oh, why didn’t you bring her? &c.

J. B. P. arrived yesterday, he has not given me a letter, or any other thing from you. He suspects, however, that he has at least a letter; a fact which he will endeavour to ascertain in the course of this week. I wrote you two letters on my way up, addressed to 135 Greenwich-street. Is that right? Adieu, chere amie,

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Albany, 11th February, 1799.

On Saturday, the 9th, I received Your two letters, from the 1st to the 6th inclusive; the last of which is the only one that has come in due season, or in what is termed the course of post. You now see that a letter can come from New-York in three days; a truth which has been frequently verified by the receipt of my letters, but never before by the despatch of your own.

How very perverse and provoking you are about your correspondence with Mr. Martin. I told you expressly that he was not angry, but, on the contrary, that he sent it laughingly and as a good joke. Pray, from whom did you learn that he was angry? You charge me with not noticing two of your letters, and that I have not given you any directions about heedlessness. With submission, miss, you are mistaken. It is true that I have not repeated the word, but I have intimated several things intended to this point. You expected, I presume, that I should treat the subject scientifically, as Duport does his art, and begin by explanation of terms, and then proceed to divide and subdivide the matter, as a priest does a sermon. Such a dose would, I am sure, have sickened you. I have therefore thought it best to give you very little at a time, and watch, as physicians do with potent medicines, the effect produced. When we meet, which I verily believe will be in five or six days after the receipt of this, you shall have as much as I shall find your stomach will bear.

What the deuse can have got into Madame S. and N., I am utterly at a loss to conjecture, and beg you not to give the remotest hint, but meet them as usual.

My overtures to B. Livingston and Mr. and Mrs. R. were mere volunteers, not produced by any thing you said or wrote; but I thought it might tend to produce a certain effect in your favour. So you have no apologies to make or pardons to ask on this subject. As this, however, is much the best composed part of your letter, I am particularly obliged to you for it, even if you did it to display your eloquence. It is, indeed, very happily expressed.

You seem to have emerged from your lethargy, which, I must confess, was obvious to an alarming degree in several preceding letters. I congratulate you upon it, and hope you will never suffer it again to invade your faculties.

We will talk of houses, &c. about the 19th inst. Henry Walton has gone to New-York by the last stage. He is one of those whose good opinion and esteem I wish you to acquire. He has delicacy, taste, and refinement–very, very rare qualities in this country at this day. He will be often at your house; receive him with courtesy.

I go to bed between 12 and 1, and rise between 7 and 8. For some reasons to me unknown, I cannot drink a single glass of wine without serious injury; still less can I bear ardent spirits; of course, I am pretty much in the bread and water line; this is the more provoking, as I dine out almost every day, and the dinners are really excellent and well-dressed, not exceeded in New-York. I have dined at home but four days since my arrival in this city. Think of that Miss B., and be hush about hospitality, &c.

Your name to one letter is beautifully written; to the other, _la la_. The handwriting of the letters various; very good, very bad, and middling; emblematic, shall I say, of the fair authoress? Please to resolve me whether author is not of both genders, for I hate the appendix of _ess?_

What novel of Miss Burney or D’Arblay is that in which the heroine begins by an interesting account of little details on her debut in London, and particularly of a ball where she met Lord Somebody and did twenty ridiculous things? I want such a description of a ball from you. Be pleased to read those first letters of the novel referred to, and take them for a model.

You don’t say half enough about the long letter which I wrote you on Sunday of the last week. Adieu, chere amie.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Albany, 26th January, 1800.

We arrived yesterday without accident. To-day I expected Alexis and John; but the stage has arrived without them, and without a line explanatory of the cause of their delay.

On alighting from the stage yesterday, I found at the door of my intended lodgings a number of persons who were impatiently expecting my arrival. I perceive that I shall be day and night engrossed by business. If I should write to you less or less often than usual, you will know the cause.

The ideas, of which you are the object, that daily pass through my mind, would, if committed to writing, fill an octavo volume; invent, then, and teach me some mode of writing with the facility and rapidity that we think, and you shall receive by every mail some hundred pages. But to select from a thousand thoughts that which is best and most seasonable; of the variety of attitudes of which every object is susceptible, to determine on that which is most suitable for the thing and the occasion; of all possible modes of expression and language, to discern the most appropriate, _hic labor, hoc opus est_. Yet have we both known persons of a moderate grade of intellect who could write whenever you would put a pen in their hands, and for any length of time you might please, without one moment of reflection or embarrassment. Pray explain to me this phenomenon. All this I confess is not very applicable to you or to my present occupation, for I generally write you what first offers, without considering whether it be the best; and if many obtrude themselves at once, I write you, as at present, of–_nothing_. Indeed, my dear Theodosia, I have many, many moments of solicitude about you. Remember that occupation will infallibly expel the fiend ennui, and that solitude is the bug-bear of fools. God bless and aid thee.

A. BURR

TO THEODOSIA.

Albany, 30th January, 1800.

At length John and Alexis have arrived; but what gratified me more, and what I looked for with much more impatience was, a letter. I selected yours from the number which they brought me. I was not disappointed. It merits all the eagerness with which I had expected it.

You reflect, and that is a security for your conduct. Our most humiliating errors proceed usually from inattention, and from that mental dissipation which we call heedlessness. You estimate your situation with great truth. Many are surprised that I could repose in you so great a trust as that of yourself; but I knew that you were equal to it, and I am not deceived.

You do right to stay much at home. It will scarcely be worth while to go to V. P.’s. C. is excluded from all rule. I am quite oppressed with the kindness and friendship of _b. b._ towards you. How fortunate you are in such a friend. If their invitations should be so frequent as to interrupt your lessons, you will do well to refuse even them. There is a measure to be observed in the acceptance of the good offices even of our best friends; and at your age, to prefer duty to pleasure when they are in collision, is a degree of firmness rarely exhibited, and, therefore, the more calculated to inspire respect. I perceive that I am not very explicit; but you will reflect and discern my meaning. Montesquieu said he wrote to make people think, and not to make them read–and why may not A. Br. Perhaps, however, there may be no collisions; and then your good sense will teach you not to wear out good-will.

You indicate a very pleasant mode in which you suppose I may make you happy; but you do not estimate things rightly. What you imagine to be symptoms of love are the mere effusions of politeness, added to respect and esteem.

I forget the plan we projected, but there can be no better one than that of your last letter, to which, therefore, you may adhere, unless indeed you can invent a better.

You may tell C. that as she and I _are on ceremony_, I shall expect the first letter. She knows well that the bare sight of her handwriting would drive Le Guen and the parchments to the antipodes. I do thank you for your constancy about the French ball. Do not be alarmed lest I expect too much. I know your force, and now feel assured that I shall have reason to be more than satisfied both with your discretion and your attainments. I shall not again find time to write you two pages; so do not expect it. Nevertheless, you will engross much, very much of the thoughts and affections of

A. BURR

Previous to the year 1800, slavery existed in the State of New-York. Colonel Burr, at different periods, was the owner of slaves. All those that remained in his family for any length of time were taught to read and write. During his absence from home it was his practice to correspond with one or more of them. As a master, he was beloved. A few letters are here given as specimens of this correspondence. They are copied _literally_.

TO COLONEL BURR.

New-York, 3d December.

HONOURED MASTER,

I received your letter December 1st, and we are all happy to hear that you are well. Harry has taken the chair to the coachmaker’s, and has gave him directions according to your orders. I have asked James to write to you to know how the venison was to be done; but I will now have it cured as you have ordered. The sashes of the windows were nailed down the day that you went away, and the ladder that you mention belongs to Mr. Halsey, and be has taken it away. All the papers that have any writing on is put into the drawers, and I will take care of the ink that it does not freeze. Colonel Platt was here, and has taken the four red cases that was in the wine-room; and he asked me for a square box, and as you had not told me of it, I said that I had never seen it. There is nothing in the stable; but don’t know what is in Sam’s room, as he has locked the door. We are happy to hear that Sam, and George, and the horses are in good order, and all the family gives their love to them.

PEGGY GARTIN.

TO COLONEL BURR.

New-York, 17th December.

HONOURED MASTER,

I received your letter, and am happy to hear that you are in a good state of health. Harry went to Mr. Alston’s farm the day after I received the letter, and the man had gone away the 11th day of December. Stephen was not at home when he went there, and by what he could understand there was a great difference between Daniel and Stephen; and Harry says that for the time that he has been there he had not neglected his work. But, master, I wish to beg a favour of you; please to grant it. I have found there is a day-school, kept by an elderly man and his wife, near to our house, and if master is willing that I should go to it for two months, I think it would be of great service to me, and at the same time I will not neglect my work in the house, if you please, sir.

PEGGY.

TO COLONEL BURR.

New-York, 29th December.

HONOURED MASTER,

I received your letter, which has given me no satisfaction concerning your health; and as there has been a report in the paper that you was wounded, it has made us very uneasy, supposing it to be true; but I hope that it is not so, as I hear that people gives no credit to it. I go to the school, since master is willing, and I like the teacher very much. He pays great attention to my learning, and I have teached Nancy her letters ever since you have been gone, which I think will be of as much service to her as if she went to school. We are all well at present, and I hope that you are the same.

PEGGY.

TO COLONEL BURR. New-York, 12th January.

HONOURED MASTER,

I have received your letter of the 4th inst., and it gives us great happiness to hear that you are in good health, as all the family are except myself. I was taken sick on the 30th of last month, so that I have not been able to go to school; and as I am better than I have been, to write these few lines; I am too weak to write Mrs. Alston, but Elenora’s child is well. The woman came here the 7th of this month for the money, and Harry went to Mrs. Van Ness the 9th, and she said that Mr. Van Ness did not tell her any thing of it, and she could not give it.

PEGGY.

Footnotes:

1. Theodosia’s preceptor.

2. A coloured boy.

3. A coloured man, the slave of Colonel Burr.

4. Theodosia had now entered her _twelfth_ year.

5. Natalie De Lage was the daughter of a French lady, who was once a member of the family of the Princess L’Ambaul. Natalie was adopted and educated by Colonel Burr as his child. She married the son of General Sumter, of South Carolina.

6. A slave of Colonel Burr’s.

7. A servant of Colonel Burr.

CHAPTER XVIII.

The preceding correspondence not only introduces the reader into the social circle of Colonel Burr, but into the bosom of his family. It develops his character, so far as the most sacred and confidential communications can develop it–as a friend–a husband–a parent–and a master. We are approaching a period, however, in his history when the scene is to be changed. In the spring of 1794 Mrs. Burr died; and in 1801 his daughter was married, and removed to South Carolina. Thus terminated, in a great measure, all those domestic relations and enjoyments which had afforded him so much pleasure, and connected with which be had indulged the best feelings of his heart.

Colonel Burr was a member of the Senate of the United States from the 4th of March, 1791, until the 4th of March, 1797. During this period he continued to practise the law. He was in that class of his profession to which belonged a Hamilton, a Harrison, and a Livingston. The partiality of some of his friends may have placed him at the head of the bar. His opponents ranked him second _only_ to their particular favourite. As a speaker, Colonel Burr was calm and persuasive. He was most remarkable for the power which he possessed of condensation. His appeals, whether to a court or a jury, were sententious and lucid. His speeches, generally, were argumentative, short, and pithy. No flights of fancy, no metaphors, no parade of impassioned sentences, are to be found in them. When employed on the same side of a cause with General Hamilton, it was his uniform practice to permit that gentleman to select his own place in the cause.

It has often been remarked that Colonel Burr’s character could not be better drawn than it is in a short sketch of his father, by Governor Livingston. “Though a person” (says the governor) “of a slender and delicate make, to encounter fatigue he has a heart of steel; and, for the despatch of business, the most amazing talents, joined to a constancy of mind that ensures success in spite of every obstacle. As long as an enterprise appears not absolutely impossible, he knows no discouragement; but, in proportion to its difficulty, augments his diligence; and, by an insuperable fortitude, frequently accomplishes what his friends and acquaintance conceive utterly impracticable.”

In the year 1793 Albert Gallatin was appointed a senator of the United States by the State of Pennsylvania. On claiming his seat in January, 1794, a petition was presented against his admission into that body, on the ground that he had not been a citizen the requisite number of years. The subject was referred to a committee of seven. Their report elicited a warm debate, which continued for several days. Colonel Burr took an active part, and greatly distinguished himself in support of Mr. Gallatin’s claim. His colleague, Mr. King, had taken the lead against the right of Mr. Gallatin to a seat. John Taylor, of Caroline, Virginia, addressed a note to Colonel Burr, in which he says–“We shall leave you to reply to King: _first_, because you desired it; _second_, all depends upon it; no one else _can_ do it, and the audience will expect it.”

On the 28th of February, 1794, the Senate “_Resolved_, That the election of Albert Gallatin to be a senator of the United States was void, he not having been a citizen of the United States the term of years required as a qualification to be a senator of the United States.”–Ays 14, nays 12.

On the 20th of February, 1794, the Senate adopted a resolution, declaring that their galleries, at the commencement of the next session, should be opened while the Senate were “engaged in their legislative capacity.” For this, or a similar resolution, Colonel Burr had voted at every previous session since he had been a member.

His personal respect for John Jay has been heretofore mentioned; but on no occasion did he permit such feelings to interfere with his political acts, when called upon to perform a public duty. On the 16th of April, 1794, the president nominated John Jay, then chief-justice of the United States, as envoy extraordinary to Great Britain. On the 19th, when the nomination was called up for consideration, Mr. Burr offered the following resolutions–

“_Resolved_, That any communications to be made to the court of Great Britain may be made through our minister now at that court with equal facility and effect, and at much less expense, than by an envoy extraordinary; and that such an appointment is at present inexpedient and unnecessary:

“That to permit judges of the Supreme Court to hold, at the same time, any other office or employment emanating from, and holden at the pleasure of, the executive, is contrary to the spirit of the constitution; and, as tending to expose them to the influence of the executive, is mischievous and impolitic.” Ays 10, nays 17.

The nomination was then confirmed by a vote of 18 to 8, Mr. Burr voting in the negative. This vote, it was understood at the time, gave pain to Mr. Jay. In a letter to his lady, dated the 20th of April, the judge says–“Yesterday the Senate approved of the nomination by a great majority. _Mr. Burr was among the few who opposed it_.”

About this period the democratic party were highly incensed against the president for continuing Gouverneur Morris as a minister to the French Republic. The Executive Provisory Council had requested his recall. He was considered a monarchist, and hostile to the revolution. Many of the opposition senators had spoken with great freedom of the policy of General Washington in this particular. These remarks having been communicated to the president, he expressed, informally, a willingness to recall Mr. Morris, and to nominate a member of the opposition, if they would designate a suitable person. In consequence of this suggestion, the democratic members of the Senate, and some of the most distinguished members of the House, had a conference, and resolved on recommending Colonel Burr. Mr. Madison, Mr. Monroe, and another member of Congress whose name is not recollected, were delegated to wait on the president and communicate the wishes of the party.

General Washington paused for a few moments, and then remarked, that he had made it a rule of life never to recommend or nominate any person for a high and responsible situation in whose integrity he had not confidence; that, wanting confidence in Colonel Burr, he could not nominate him; but that it would give him great pleasure to meet their wishes if they would designate an individual in whom he could confide. The committee returned and reported the result of their conference. The senators adhered unanimously to their first nomination, and the same delegates waited upon the president and reiterated the adherence of their friends to Colonel Burr. Whereupon General Washington, with some warmth, remarked that his decision was irrevocable; but immediately added, “I will nominate you, Mr. Madison, or you, Mr. Monroe.” The former replied that he had long since made up his mind never to leave his country, and respectfully declined the offer. They retired, and reported the result of their second interview. The democratic gentlemen were not less inflexible, and instructed their delegates to say to the president that they would make no other recommendation. On the third visit they were received by Mr. Randolph, secretary of state, to whom they made the communication, but who considered it indecorous, knowing the president’s feelings, to repeat the message.

This incident demonstrates, on the one hand, the strong and unchangeable prejudices of General Washington against Colonel Burr; and on the other, the firm and unbounded confidence reposed in him by the democracy of those days. The anecdote is not related on the authority exclusively of Colonel Burr. It is confirmed by the written statement of a gentleman of high standing, to whom Mr. Monroe repeated all the details. No other selection was made by the opposition senators; but, on the 27th of May, 1794, James Monroe was nominated as Minister Plenipotentiary to the French Republic.

On the 8th of June, 1795, the president submitted to the Senate of the United States the treaty negotiated with Great Britain by John Jay. This question called into operation all the powers of Mr. Burr’s mind. He was opposed to it in the form it had been negotiated. His views and opinions may be distinctly understood by comparing the amendments which he proposed with the original treaty. On the 22d June the Senate resumed the consideration of it, whereupon he offered the following resolutions:–

“That the further consideration of the treaty concluded at London the 19th of November, 1794, be postponed, and that it be recommended to the President of the United States to proceed without delay to further friendly negotiation with his Britannic Majesty, in order to effect alterations in the said treaty in the following particulars:—-

“That the 9th, 10th, and 24th articles, and so much of the 25th as relates to the shelter or refuge to be given to the armed vessels of states or sovereigns at war with either party, be expunged.

“2d Art. That no privilege or right be allowed to the settlers or traders mentioned in the 2d article, other than those which are secured to them by the treaty of 1783 and existing laws.

“3d. Art. That the 3d article be expunged, or be so modified that the citizens of the United States may have the use of _all_ rivers, ports, and places within the territories of his Britannic Majesty in North America, in the same manner as his subjects may have of those of the United States.

“6th Art. That the value of the negroes and other property carried away contrary to the 7th article of the treaty of 1783, _and the loss and damage sustained by the United States by the detention of the posts_, be paid for by the British government–the amount to be ascertained by the commissioners who may be appointed to liquidate the claims of the British creditors.

“12th Art. That what relates to the West India trade, and the provisos and conditions thereof in the 12th article, be expunged, or be rendered much more favourable to the United States, and without any restraint on the exportation, in vessels of the United States, of any articles not the growth, produce, or manufacture of the said islands of his Britannic Majesty.

“15th Art. That no clause be admitted which may restrain the United States from reciprocating benefits by discriminating between foreign nations in their commercial arrangements, or prevent them from increasing the tonnage or other duties on British vessels on terms of reciprocity, or in a stipulated ratio.

“21st Art. That the subjects or citizens of either party be not restrained from accepting commissions in the army or navy of any foreign power.”

In 1797, while Colonel Burr was yet a member of the United States Senate, his mind was occupied with the project of a bank, and he conferred with several of his personal friends on the subject. Among others, he wrote the honourable Thomas Morris, who was at the time a member of the state Senate.

TO THOMAS MORRIS.

New-York, 1st February, 1797.

SIR,

I have been informed that the present sheriff of Dutchess either has resigned or will decline a reappointment, and that Platt Smith is among the candidates. I have very little personal acquaintance with Mr. Smith–am not, indeed, certain that I should recognise him if I should meet him; but I have long known him by reputation, and can assure you that he is a man of irreproachable character, of independent property, and much above ordinary in point of intelligence. His connexions are very influential (perhaps the most so) in that county. He is, in short, a man, in my opinion, every way qualified to fill the office. Has always been of your party, and supported Jay’s election. He is withal a generous, manly, independent fellow, of that cast which you like; one who will feel sensibly any favours or civilities which may be done him. If you should not be otherwise pledged, you will oblige several of your personal friends by supporting his pretensions.

I have drawn out a plan for a bank, but find that it will require so many explanations that I forbear to send it. I perceive that you are about selling our stock in the funds of the United States. We have already talked over this matter. The more I reflect, the stronger appear the objections. It will doubtless be urged in favour of an immediate sale, that our funds are in danger of seizure by the United States. This is a mere bugbear. Such a thing will never again be even proposed, and, if proposed, will never receive three votes in the Senate. I hope, therefore, our legislature will not suffer themselves to be precipitated into this sale from any such unfounded apprehensions.

Mr. Belasies, a gentleman, a man of education and fortune, by birth an Englishman, has come out with his family to reside in this country. If he should apply for leave to hold lands in this state, I hope he may be gratified; from the little I have seen, and the much I have heard of him, I am persuaded that he will be a valuable acquisition to any state and to any society. He is no politician.

I return to-morrow to Philadelphia, where I shall remain for this month. May l expect to see you here in the spring? Present me most respectfully to Williamson, and be assured of my esteem and attachment.

A. BURR.

In April, 1798, Colonel Burr was elected a member of Assembly for the city and county of New-York by the democratic party. This year was marked with more political virulence than any other year since the independence of the country. It was during the year 1798 that the alien and sedition laws were passed. In the autumn of 1798, Matthew Lyon, then a representative in Congress from Vermont, was endicted for harbouring an intention “to stir up sedition, and to bring the president and government of the United States into contempt,” &c. He was convicted, and the sentence was–“Matthew Lyon, it is the pleasure of this court that you be imprisoned four months, pay costs, and a fine of one thousand dollars, and stand committed until the judgment be complied with.” This year the celebrated mission to France, consisting of Messrs. Marshall, Pinckney, and Gerry, excited the attention not only of the American people, but of the civilized world. In short, this year the foundation was laid for the overthrow of federal power in the United States.

In no section of the country was there more political excitement than in New-York. Parties were nearly balanced. There were only two banks in the city; the Bank of New-York, and the branch of the United States Bank. They were charged with being influenced in their discounts by political considerations. At all events, they were under the management and control of federalists; and to counteract their alleged influence, Colonel Burr was anxious for the establishment of a democratic institution. With this view he proposed to obtain a charter for supplying the city with water; and as it was certain that if confined to that particular object the stock would not be subscribed, he caused the application to be made for two millions of dollars, and inserted a clause in that charter, that the “surplus capital might be employed in any way not inconsistent with the laws and constitution of the United States or of the State of New-York.” It is under this clause that the Manhattan Company use and exercise all the privileges of a bank. The directors were named in the charter, and a majority of them were of the democratic party.

It has been said that the charter was obtained by trick and management; and that, if suspicion bad been entertained by any of the federal members, Colonel Burr could not have got the bill through the legislature. It is due to him, so far as it can be justly done, to rescue his memory from the imputation of having _misrepresented_ or _misstated_ to any member the object he had in view. The facts in reference to the passage of the charter of the Manhattan Company through the Senate will now be given. The statement is upon authority that cannot be contradicted.

When the bill had passed the Assembly and was sent to the Senate, Colonel Burr, during the hours of business, went into the Senate Chamber, and requested a federal senator (now living) from the western district to move a reference of that bill to a select committee, to report complete, which would supersede the necessity of its going to a committee of the whole. The senator replied, that though he had no objection to make the experiment, yet that he was persuaded the motion would not prevail, because the Senate, not having a press of business before them, uniformly refused thus committing bills to select committees instead of a committee of the whole. Colonel Burr then suggested, that perhaps if the mover would intimate, while on the floor, that the honourable Samuel Jones was contemplated as chairman of that committee, the confidence which the Senate was known to repose in him, and in his uniform attention to every thing relating to the city of New-York, would perhaps induce the Senate on this occasion to depart from its accustomed mode of proceeding. Accordingly the motion was made, and passed without opposition.

The committee named by the honourable Stephen Van Rensselaer, then lieutenant-governor, were Samuel Jones, Ambrose Spencer, and Thomas Morris. It was suggested to one of these gentlemen that the part of the bill authorizing the employment of the surplus capital had better be stricken out of it; in consequence of which that gentleman applied to Colonel Burr for an explanation on this point. Mr. Burr promptly and frankly informed the honourable member, that it not only did authorize, but that it was in tended the directors should use the surplus capital in any way they thought expedient and proper. That they might have a bank, an East India Company, or any thing else that they deemed profitable. That the mere supplying the city with water would not, of itself, remunerate the stockholders. Colonel Burr added, that the senator was at liberty to communicate this explanation to other members, and that be had no secrecy on the subject. The bill was subsequently reported by Mr. Jones and passed.

This view of the proceedings of the legislature is sustained by what occurred in the Council of Revision, from the minutes of which an extract has been made.

“_At a meeting of the Council of Revision, held at the City Hall of the City of Albany, on Monday, the 1st of April, 1799._

“PRESENT–His Excellency the Governor, the Honourable the Chancellor, the Chief Justice, and Judge Benson.

“Mr. Reynolds and Mr. Robbins, from the honourable the Assembly, delivered to the council the bill entitled _An act for the relief of John Lansing_, the bill entitled _An act for supplying the city of New-York with pure and wholesome water_, and the bill entitled _An act to amend the statute of limitation_, and the bill entitled _An act making provision to keep in repair the bridge over Schoharie Creek, at Fort Hunter, in the county of Montgomery_.

“The council proceeded to take the said bills into consideration, and thereupon

“_Resolved_, That the bill entitled _An act for supplying the city of New-York with pure and wholesome water_ be committed to the honourable the Chief Justice; that the bill entitled _An act to amend the statute of limitation_ be committed to the honourable the Chancellor.”

“_At a meeting of the Council of Revision, held at the City Hall of the City of Albany, on Tuesday, the 2d of April, 1799._

“PRESENT–His Excellency the Governor, the Honourable the Chancellor, the Chief Justice, and Judge Benson.

“The honourable the Chief Justice, to whom was committed the bill entitled _An act for supplying the city of New-York with pure and wholesome water_, reported the following objections, to wit:

“_Because_ the bill creates a corporation, with a capital of two millions of dollars, vested with the unusual power to divert its surplus capital to the purchase of public or other stock, _or any other moneyed transactions or operations not inconsistent with the constitution and laws of this state or of the United States_, and which surplus may be applied to the purposes of trade, or any other purpose which the very comprehensive terms in which the clause is conceived may warrant; this, in the opinion of the council as a novel experiment, the result whereof as to its influence on the community must be merely speculative and uncertain, peculiarly requires the application of the policy which has heretofore uniformly obtained, that the powers of corporations relative to their money operations should be of limited instead of perpetual duration.”

“The council proceeded to take the preceding objections into consideration, which were overruled; it was thereupon

“_Resolved_, That it does not appear improper to the council that the said bill, entitled _An act for supplying the city of New-York with pure and wholesome water_, should become a law of this state.

“_Ordered_, That the honourable the Chancellor deliver a copy of the preceding resolution, signed by his excellency the Governor, to the honourable the Assembly.”

“_State of New-York, Secretary’s Office_.

“I certify the preceding to be true extracts from the minutes of the Council of Revision of this state.

(Signed)

“ARCHD. CAMPBELL,

“_Deputy Secretary_.

“_Albany, April 29th_, 1836.”

Of the correctness of the above statement, and the fairness of Mr. Burr’s conduct in relation to the Manhattan Company, there cannot be the shadow of a doubt; but it is probable that a large portion of the members never attempted to examine into the extent of the powers granted to the Manhattan Company; while another portion considered the project of Colonel Burr, in reference to an East India Company or a bank, as chimerical and visionary. It is, however, evident that no trick or misrepresentation was practised to procure the passage of the bill; unless, indeed, his silence on the floor of the house as to his ulterior views may be so construed. His object was a bank; and when appealed to on this particular point, he admitted the fact. At all other times he remained silent on the subject. When the bill had passed he was lauded by the democratic party for his address, and they rejoiced in his success. Its political effect was considered highly important, as it tended to break down a system of pecuniary favouritism, which was made to operate in support of the party in power.

During the summer of 1799 vague rumours were privately circulated respecting certain transactions of Colonel Burr with the Holland Land Company. It was whispered that a bond, which the company held against him for twenty thousand dollars, had been given up for secret services rendered them. In other circles it was hinted that the compensation was for procuring the passage of a bill through the legislature authorizing aliens to hold lands, &c. Connected with these rumours, John B. Church, Esq. had spoken with so much freedom as to produce a challenge from Colonel Burr. On the 2d of September, 1799, the parties met at Hoboken, and having exchanged a shot without effect, Mr. Church made the _amende honorable_, and the affair was so satisfactorily adjusted as to restore the social intercourse of these gentlemen. Mr. Church was attended by Abijah Hammond, Esq., and Colonel Burr by Judge Edanus Burke, of South Carolina.

On the ground a most ludicrous incident occurred. Previous to leaving the city of New-York, Colonel Burr presented to Judge Burke his pistol-case. He explained to the Judge that the balls were cast intentionally too small; that chamois leather was cut to the proper size to put round them, but that the leather must be greased (for which purpose grease was placed in the case), or that there would be a difficulty in getting the ball home. After the parties had taken their stand, Colonel Burr noticed the judge hammering the ramrod with a stone, and immediately suspected the cause. When the pistol was handed him by his friend, he drew the ramrod, and ascertained that the ball was not home, and so informed the judge; to which Mr. Burke replied, “I forgot to grease the leather; but you see he is ready, don’t keep him waiting; _just take a crack as it is, and I’ll grease the next_!” Colonel Burr bowed courteously, but made no reply, and discharged his pistol in the state it had been given to him. The anecdote for some time after was the subject of merriment among those who had heard it.

No explanation was ever given, it is believed, of the transactions between Colonel Burr and the Holland Land Company. It was his practice to let his actions speak for themselves, and to let the world construe them as they pleased. This was a great error, and was the source in after life of much trouble and suffering to him, yet he would not depart from it. A few weeks subsequent to this duel, however, be received from a friend a kind letter, asking confidentially an explanation of these transactions, to which he replied,

COLONEL BURR TO —–.

New-York, 6th October, 1799.

DEAR SIR,

I cannot refuse to the manner of your request, nor to the friendly motives which have produced it, to satisfy your inquiries with regard to Witbeck’s bond and the Holland Company.

In December, 1795 or 1796, I forget which, I entered into a covenant with the Holland Company for the purchase of one hundred thousand acres of land, at twelve shillings per acre, payable by instalments. The covenant contained a penalty of twenty thousand dollars; as security on my part for this penalty, in case it should become due, I mortgaged to Cazenove, or the Holland Company, twenty thousand acres of land in Presque Isle, being one hundred shares of two hundred acres each in the Population Company, and I assigned to him Thomas L. Witbeck’s bond, payable to me, for twenty thousand dollars, as further collateral security.

In the fall of 1797 Cazenove joined with me in a power of attorney to James Wadsworth, then in Europe, for the sale of one hundred thousand acres, and, until the summer or fall of the year following, we had reason to believe that they were or would be sold, which of course would have terminated all questions about the penalty. Some time in the year 1797 or 1798, it was noised in Albany that Thomas L. Witbeck had given a bond for twenty thousand dollars, and his credit at the bank and elsewhere became affected by it. He wrote me often on the subject. In reply, I begged him to explain that the bond was not for the payment of money, and that, even if it should become forfeited, the twenty thousand acres of Presque Isle lands were alone a sufficient security. Witbeck, however, continued to be uneasy for his credit, and teased me to take up his bond by giving other security. I thought this rather unkind, and did not trouble myself about it. Indeed, I was in hopes that the sale of the land in Europe would have closed the transaction. Not long after this, I think in November last, Cazenove informed me that be had been applied to by Witbeck to change that security, and added that he was willing to change it for one of equal solidity, provided it would not impair his rights.

Witbeck’s importunities continued, and he became so very urgent and repeated that I was finally (November last), long after the passing of the alien bill, induced to offer A. I. Frederick Prevost’s bond in the place of Witbeck’s. Cazenove took time to consider and inquire; and finding, in fact, that Prevost’s bond was a much better one than Witbeck’s, agreed to take it. Prevost accordingly executed _to me_ a bond for twenty thousand dollars, of which Harrison drew a special assignment to the Holland Company. We made a memorandum that this exchange should not vary the rights of the parties (viz., the Holland Company and Aaron Burr), and Thomas L. Witbeck’s bond was given up. In this transaction I never suspected that Cazenove imagined that _he_ was doing a favour either to me or Thomas L. Witbeck, and I am confident that he never entertained so absurd a belief. It was with great reluctance that I gave Prevost’s bond. I had claims on Witbeck which justified me in exposing him to some hazard. Prevost had a family, a clear, independent estate, and did not owe a cent in the world; but he had better nerves than Witbeck, and would not tease me.

About this time we learned that all prospect of selling the land in Europe had failed, and as I never had an expectation of paying except from the land itself, it became necessary to close the transaction. It should be observed, that soon after my contract with Cazenove he received orders, as he informed me, to sell no more under sixteen shillings (two dollars), and afterward I understood that he had raised the price to twenty shillings. In December last we had several conferences for the purpose of settling this business. I offered to give back the land and cancel the covenants. He talked of the penalty. I replied that be would only recover the damages sustained, which, by his own account, were nothing; for, as the price of the land was raised to twenty shillings, the Holland Company would, by their own estimation, gain one hundred thousand dollars by taking back the land. He appeared to feel the unreasonableness of his demand, and finally evaded my proposal by questioning his own authority. This I considered as a pretence; some irritation ensued, and we parted without concluding any thing.

Thus the matter remained until May last (1799), when our negotiations were renewed. After various overtures and propositions on either side, it was at length agreed that I should convey to the Holland Company, absolutely, the twenty thousand acres Presque Isle lands. That this should be received in discharge of the advances that Cazenove had made thereon, and in full satisfaction of all damages claimed on the covenants; and that thereupon the covenants should be cancelled, the bond of I. A. Frederick Prevost be given up, and the Holland Company take back their lands. This was accordingly done a few days before Cazenove sailed for Europe, which was, I think, in June last.

I should have noted, that about the year 1792 or 1793, I became jointly concerned with the Holland Company and sundry individuals in the purchase from the State of Pennsylvania of the whole Presque Isle angle, and of other lands adjoining to the amount of a million of acres. The association was called the Population Company, and was under the management of directors, who had a right to assess on the proprietors or associates any sums they might think proper to promote the settlements required by the patents. My interest was one hundred shares, or twenty thousand acres, for which I had paid, at the time I mortgaged to Cazenove, upwards of seven thousand five hundred dollars. The thing was considered as extremely valuable, and I have no doubt but my interest would, if I could have retained it five years, have been worth to me more than one hundred thousand dollars. Lands within the angle were last year sold at twenty dollars per acre.

Though it be obvious that no damages were due or could have been recovered by the Holland Company on the penalty contained in the covenants, yet I had several motives to urge me to some sacrifice in order to get rid of the business. _First._ I could not repay the advances made by Cazenove, which amounted to several thousand dollars. _Second._ I could not bear to give any uneasiness to Frederick Prevost, which might have been the consequence of a legal proceeding. _Third._ I was a little apprehensive of being sued on the covenants for payment of the purchase money. Cazenove, on his part, had but a single motive, to wit–he found that these lands were all I had to give, and that a suit would have produced only expense.

The aforegoing facts are substantially known to Le Roy, Bayard, and McEvers, and to Harrison and Ogden. The two last were consulted on the closing of the business in May and June last (1799). The former of them, Harrison, several times on the exchange of the bonds. I have not spoken to either of those gentlemen on the subject since the transactions took place; but any person is at liberty to do it who may choose to take the trouble.

I have given you a summary of my whole concern with Cazenove and the Holland Company, not knowing what part of it might tend to elucidate your inquiries.

By those who know me, it will never be credited that any man on earth would have the hardiness even to propose to me dishonourable compensations; but this apart, the absurdity of the calumny you allude to is obvious from the following data, resulting from the deeds and known facts:

That at the time the Alien Bill was under consideration, and long after, the bond, the covenant, and the penalty were objects of no concern, as we had reason to believe that the lands were or would be sold in Europe, so as to leave me a profit:

That Witbeck’s bond was _never given up_, but exchanged for one more safe and valuable:

That I had not, nor by possibility could have, any interest in this exchange, as it was relieving one friend to involve another still more dear to me:

That, so far from any understanding between Cazenove and me, we had controversies about the very bond and penalty for more than a year after the passing of the Alien Bill: That no part of the penalty was ever due from me to the Holland Company; and that of course, they could never have demanded the bond, which was expressly a security for the penalty, and not for the payments:

That nevertheless I did finally give Cazenove a valuable and exorbitant compensation to induce him to cancel the covenants and discharge the penalty.

This, sir, is the first time in my life that I have condescended (pardon the expression) to refute a calumny. I leave to my actions to speak for themselves, and to my character to confound the fictions of slander. And on this very subject I have not up to this hour given one word of explanation to any human being. All the explanation that can be given amounts to no more than this–_That the thing is an absolute and abominable lie_. I feel that the present detail is useless and trifling; but you have asked with good-nature, and I could not, with the appearance of good-nature, refuse. I pardon you the labour I have had in writing, and for that which you will have in reading no apology can be due from

Your friend and obedient servant,

A. BURR.

In January, 1801, Colonel Burr’s daughter Theodosia was married to Joseph Alston, Esq., of South Carolina. Mr. Alston was in his twenty-second, Miss Burr in her eighteenth year. He was a gentleman of talents and fortune, and a few years after his marriage was chosen governor. Some opinion of his style of writing may be formed by his defence of early marriages; while that portion of his letter which relates to his native state cannot be uninteresting to South Carolinians.

THEODOSIA BURR TO JOSEPH ALSTON.

New-York, January 13th, 1801.

I have already written to you by the post to tell you that I shall be happy to see you _whenever you choose;_ that I suppose is equivalent to _very soon;_ and that you may no longer feel doubts or suspicions on my account, I repeat the invitation by a packet as less dilatory than the mail; but for all these doubts and suspicions I will take ample revenge when we meet.

I yesterday received your letter of the 26th of December, and am expecting your defence of early marriages to-day. My father laughs at my impatience to hear from you, and says I am in love; but I do not believe that to be a fair deduction, for the post is really very irregular and slow–enough so to provoke anybody.

We leave this for Albany on the 26th inst., and shall remain there till the 10th February. My movements will after that depend upon my father and _you_. I had intended not to marry this twelvemonth, and in that case thought it wrong to divert you from your present engagements in Carolina; but to your solicitations I yield my judgment. Adieu. I wish you many returns of the century.

14th January.

I have not yet received your promised letter; but I hope it may be long in proportion to the time I have been expecting it. The packet has been delayed by head-winds, but now that they are fair she will have a quick passage; at least such I wish it. Adieu, encore.

THEODOSIA.

JOSEPH ALSTON TO THEODOSIA BURR.

Charleston, S. C. December 28th, 1800.

Aristotle says “that a man should not marry before he is six-and-thirty:” pray, Mr. Alston, what arguments have you to oppose to such authority? Hear me, Miss Burr.

It has always been my practice, whether from a natural independence of mind, from pride, or what other cause I will not pretend to say, never to adopt the opinion of any one, however respectable his authority, unless thoroughly convinced by his arguments; the “ipse dixit,” as logicians term it, even of Cicero, who stands higher in my estimation than any other author, would not have the least weight with me; you must therefore, till you offer better reasons in support of his opinion than the Grecian sage himself has done, excuse my differing from him.

Objections to early marriages can rationally only arise from want of discretion or want of fortune in the parties; now, as you very well observe, the age of discretion is wholly uncertain, some men reaching it at twenty, others at thirty, some again not till fifty, and many not at all; of course, to fix such or such a period as the proper one for marrying, is ridiculous. Even the want of fortune is to be considered differently, according to the country where the marriage is to take place; for though in some places a fortune is absolutely necessary to a man before he marries, there are others, as in the eastern states for example, where he marries expressly for the purpose of making a fortune.

But, allowing both these objections their full force, may there not be a single case that they do not reach? Suppose (_for instance, merely_) a young man nearly two-and-twenty, already of the _greatest_ discretion, with an ample fortune, were to be passionately in love with a young lady almost eighteen, equally discreet with himself, and who had a “sincere friendship” for him, do you think it would be necessary to make him wait till thirty? particularly where the friends on both sides were pleased with the match.

Were I to consider the question personally, since you allow that “individual character” ought to be consulted, no objection clearly could be made to my marrying early.

From my father’s plan of education for me, I may properly be called a hot-bed plant. Introduced from my infancy into the society of men, while yet a boy I was accustomed to think and act like a man. On every occasion, however important, I was left to decide for myself; I do not recollect a single instance where I was controlled even by advice; for it was my father’s invariable maxim, that the best way of strengthening the judgment was to suffer it to be constantly exercised. Before seventeen I finished my college education; before twenty I was admitted to the bar. Since that time I have been constantly travelling through different parts of the United States; to what purpose I leave you to determine.

From this short account of myself you may judge whether my manners and sentiments are not, by this time, in some degree formed.

But let us treat the subject abstractedly; and, as we have shown that under particular circumstances no disadvantages result from early marriages, let us see if any positive advantages attend them.

Happiness in the marriage state, you will agree with me, can only be obtained from the most complete congeniality of mind and disposition, and the most exact similarity of habits and pursuits; now, though their natures may generally resemble, no two persons can be entirely of the same mind and disposition, the same habits and pursuits, unless after the most intimate and early association; I say early, for it is in youth only the mind and disposition receive the complexion we would give them; it is then only that our habits are moulded or our pursuits directed as we please; as we advance in life they become fixed and unchangeable, and instead of our governing them, govern us. Is it not _therefore_ better, upon every principle of happiness, that persons should marry young, when, directed by mutual friendship, each might assimilate to the other, than wait till a period when their passions, their prejudices, their habits, &c. become so rooted that there neither exists an inclination nor power to correct them? Dr. Franklin, a very strong advocate for my system, and, I think, at least as good authority as Aristotle, very aptly compares those who marry early to two young trees joined together by the hand of the gardener; “Trunk knit with trunk, and branch with branch intwined, Advancing still, more closely they are join’d; At length, full grown, no difference we see, But, ‘stead of two, behold a single tree!” [1]

Those, on the other hand, who do not marry till late, say “thirty,” for example, he likens to two ancient oaks;

“Use all your force, they yield not to your hand, But firmly in their usual stations stand; While each, regardless of the other’s views, Stubborn and fix’d, it’s natural bent pursues!” [2]

But this is not all; it is in youth that we are best fitted to enjoy that exquisite happiness which the marriage state is capable of affording, and the remembrance of which forms so pleasing a link in that chain of friendship that binds to each other two persons who have lived together any number of years. Our ideas are then more refined; every generous and disinterested sentiment beats higher; and our sensibility is far more alive to every emotion our associate may feel. Depend upon it, the man who does not love till “thirty” will never, never love; long before that period, he will become too much enamoured of his own dear self to think of transferring his affections to any other object. He may marry, but interest alone will direct him in the choice of his wife; far from regarding her as the sweetest friend and companion of his life, he will consider her but as an unavoidable encumbrance upon the estate she brings him. And can you really hope, my Theodosia, with all your ingenuity, to convince me that such a being will enjoy equal happiness in marriage with me? with me, about to enter into it with such rapture; who anticipate so perfect a _heaven_ from our uniting in every study, improving our minds together, and informing each other by our mutual assistance and observations? No–I give you full credit for your talents, but there are some causes so bad that even you cannot support them.

Enough, however, of this topic till we meet; I have already given you a volume of nonsense upon it.

Now for the fable, I cannot call it description, your “dear friends” have given you of this state. “The country,” they say, because of the marshy grounds, “is rendered continually unhealthy with fever and agues.” One would really conclude from this that we were a good representation of a meeting of _Shaking Quakers_. Alas! beautiful and romantic hills of Carolina, which the delighted traveller so often stops to admire; fair and fertile plains interspersed with groves of the orange, the lemon, and the myrtle, which fling such healthful fragrance to the air, where are ye fled? Has some earthquake, some sudden and dreadful concussion of nature, ingulfed you? No! You still remain for the delight and ornament of our country; you have lost existence only in the imagination of some beau or belle of New-York; who, ignorant of the geography and appearance of the most celebrated states, believes every other place except the Park and the Battery a desert or a marsh. But let us proceed:–“As to Charleston, an annual epidemic, joined to the yells of whipped negroes, which assail your ears from every house, and the extreme heat, make it a perfect purgatory!” What! is Charleston, the most delightfully situated city in America, which, entirely open to the ocean, twice in every twenty-four hours is cooled by the refreshing seabreeze, the Montpelier of the south, which annually affords an asylum to the planter and the West-Indian from every disease, accused of heat and unhealthiness?–Island of Calypso, where reigned perpetual spring! may we not, after this, expect thy flower-enamelled fields to be metamorphosed into dreary wastes of snow, and the sweet concerts of the feathered choir, which elysionized thy woods, converted into the howling of the tiger, or the horrid bark of the wolf? But this is not all, unfortunate citizens of Charleston; your disposition has been even still more outraged than your climate. Your mildness, humanity, and benevolence, are no more; cruelty, barbarity, a sanguinary love of torture, are now your distinguishing characteristics; the scream, the yell of the miserable, unresisting African, bleeding under the scourge of relentless power, affords music to your ears! Ah! from what unfriendly cause does this arise? Has the God of heaven, in anger, here changed the order of nature? In every other region, without