On the 2d of October, 1792, Governor Clinton nominated Colonel Burr to the Council of Appointment as Judge of the Supreme Court of the state, which nomination was immediately confirmed. Thus, within the short space of about three years, he was appointed by the democratic party to the several important stations of Attorney-General, Senator of the United States, and Judge of the Supreme Court. The last appointment was made without consulting Mr. Burr. As soon as he was notified of the fact, he informed the governor of his non-acceptance; yet so anxious was his excellency, and so strong were his hopes that Colonel Burr might be induced to withdraw his resignation, that be refused to lay it before the council until the legislature, on the 7th of December, adopted the following resolution—

"Whereas it appears to the legislature, by the records of the Council of Appointment, that Aaron Burr, Esq., one of the senators for this state in the Senate of the United States, was, on the 2d day of October last, appointed one of the puisne justices of the Supreme Court of Judicature of this state: Thereupon,

"Resolved (if the honourable the Senate concur herein), That his excellency the governor be and hereby is requested to inform the legislature whether the said Aaron Burr hath accepted or refused the said office."

On the 24th of October, 1791, Congress convened, and Colonel Burr took his seat in the Senate of the United States. In those days it was the practice of the president, accompanied by the heads of departments, to proceed to Congress Hall for the purpose of meeting the two branches of the national legislature, and opening the session with a speech, to which a response was made by each body separately. On the 25th the president made his annual communication; whereupon the Senate "Ordered, That Messrs. Burr, Cabot, and Johnston be a committee to prepare and report the draught of an address to the President of the United States, in answer to his speech, delivered this day to both houses of Congress in the Senate Chamber."

The next day Colonel Burr, as chairman of the committee, draughted and reported an answer, which was adopted by the Senate without alteration or amendment: an occurrence, it is believed, that happened in only two other instances during the period that speeches were delivered by the executive. After the election of Mr. Jefferson the system of sending messages was substituted.

The journals of the Senate afford ample evidence that Colonel Burr was an industrious and efficient member of that body. During the first session of his term of service he was placed on numerous committees, some of them important, and generally as chairman. His business habits soon became evident, and were called into operation. His character for firmness was well established before be took his seat in the Senate; but on the 9th of January, 1794, it was displayed with effect. In consequence of a difference between the two houses, a bill to increase the standing army was lost.

Mr. King, of New-York, by consent, introduced a new bill; it was entitled "An act for the more effectual protection of the southwestern frontier settlers." Unsuccessful efforts were made by Colonel Burr and others to amend it, by striking out some of its most odious features; but there was a decided majority, as it was known to be an administration measure, determined on carrying it through. The bill was ordered to be engrossed for a third reading, and the question on its passage was to be taken on the last day of the session. By the rules of the Senate, the question could not be put if any member objected. Colonel Burr objected, and the bill was thus defeated.

Notwithstanding his public engagements, Colonel Burr's mind was constantly employed with the education of his daughter. Mrs. Burr's health was gradually declining, insomuch that she was unable, at times, to attend to her domestic concerns. This to him was a source of unceasing care and apprehension. His letters to his daughter are numerous. They are frequently playful, always interesting, displaying the solicitude of an affectionate father anxious for the improvement of his child.

TO MRS. BURR.

Philadelphia, 18th January, 1793.

By the enclosed to Mr. Gurney, [1] I have requested him to write me a letter respecting the health of the family, and Theo.'s improvement. Request him to enclose, on a separate sheet, some columns of figures, pounds, shillings, and pence. I shall show the letter and enclosure as a specimen of his talents to some persons to whom I wish to recommend him. Beg him to use no uncommon word or expression. He will pardon this piece of advice when he recollects that I know so much better than he does what will suit the persons to whom it is to be shown. If he should offer his letter for your perusal before he sends it, remark freely; it will be a kindness of which no one is so capable.

Should this come to hand after he has given his lesson on Saturday, send him his letter, and request him to call on you, if you should be able to bear five minutes conversation with him.

I wrote you yesterday, and have nothing to add respecting myself; and only a repetition of my prayers for you, with my most affectionate and anxious wishes.

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Philadelphia, 8th February, 1793.

You may recollect that I left a memorandum of what Theo. was to learn. I hope it has been strictly attended to. Desire Gurney not to attempt to teach her any thing about the "concords." I will show him how I choose that should be done when I return, which, I thank God, is but three weeks distant.

It is eight days since I left home, and I have not a word from any one of the family, nor even about any one of them. I have been out but once, half an hour at Mrs. P.'s, a concert; but I call often at Mrs. L.'s. I am more and more struck with the native good sense of one of that family, and more and more disgusted with the manner in which it is obscured and perverted: cursed effects of fashionable education! of which both sexes are the advocates, and yours eminently the victims. If I could foresee that Theo. would become a mere fashionable woman, with all the attendant frivolity and vacuity of mind, adorned with whatever grace and allurement, I would earnestly pray God to take her forthwith hence. But I yet hope, by her, to convince the world what neither sex appear to believe—that women have souls!

Most affectionately yours,

A. BURR.

Philadelphia, 15th February, 1793.

I received with joy and astonishment, on entering the Senate this minute, your two elegant and affectionate letters. The mail closes in a few minutes, and will scarce allow me to acknowledge your goodness. The roads and ferries have been for some days almost impassable, so that till now no post has arrived since Monday.

It was a knowledge of your mind which first inspired me with a respect for that of your sex, and with some regret, I confess, that the ideas which you have often heard me express in favour of female intellectual powers are founded on what I have imagined, more than what I have seen, except in you. I have endeavoured to trace the causes of this rare display of genius in women, and find them in the errors of education, of prejudice, and of habit. I admit that men are equally, nay more, much more to blame than women. Boys and girls are generally educated much in the same way till they are eight or nine years of age, and it is admitted that girls make at least equal progress with the boys; generally, indeed, they make better. Why, then, has it never been thought worth the attempt to discover, by fair experiment, the particular age at which the male superiority becomes so evident? But this is not in answer to your letter; neither is it possible now to answer it. Some parts of it I shall never answer. Your allusions to departed angels I think in bad taste.

I do not like Theo.'s indolence, or the apologies which are made for it. Have my directions been pursued with regard to her Latin and geography?

Your plan and embellishment of my mode of life are fanciful, are
flattering, and inviting. We will endeavour to realize some of it.
Pray continue to write, if you can do it with impunity. I bless Sir
J., who, with the assistance of Heaven, has thus far restored you.

In the course of this scrawl I have been several times called to vote, which must apologize to you for its incoherence. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Philadelphia, 16th February, 1793.

A line of recollection will, I am sure, be more acceptable than silence. I consider myself as largely in your debt, and shall of necessity remain so.

You have heard me speak of a Miss Woolstonecraft, who has written something on the French revolution; she has also written a book entitled "Vindication of the rights of Woman." I had heard it spoken of with a coldness little calculated to excite attention; but as I read with avidity and prepossession every thing written by a lady, I made haste to procure it, and spent the last night, almost the whole of it, in reading it. Be assured that your sex has in her an able advocate. It is, in my opinion, a work of genius. She has successfully adopted the style of Rousseau's Emilius; and her comment on that work, especially what relates to female education, contains more good sense than all the other criticisms upon him which I have seen put together. I promise myself much pleasure in reading it to you.

Is it owing to ignorance or prejudice that I have not yet met a single person who had discovered or would allow the merit of this work?

Three mails are in arrear; that of Tuesday is the last which has arrived. I am impatient to know how writing agrees with you. Pray let me hear, from day to day, the progress of your cure. Most affectionately yours,

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Philadelphia, 18th February, 1793.

Just what I apprehended, I find, has taken place. Three sheets were too much for a first attempt. It will, I fear, discourage you, if not disable you from more moderate experiments. Yet I will hope to receive by this day's mail at least one line, announcing your progressive recovery, under your own hand.

Be assured that, after what you have written, I shall not send for Gurney. Deliver him the enclosed. I hope it may animate his attention; and tell him, if you think proper, that I shall be much dissatisfied if Theo.'s progress in Latin be not very considerable at my return. Geography has, I hope, been abandoned, for he has no talent at teaching it.

The close of a session being always crowded with business, keeps me much engaged. You must expect short letters—mere notes. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 20th February, 1793.

At length, my dear Theo., I have received your letter of the 20th of January—written, you see, a month ago. But I observe that it was not put into the postoffice until the day before yesterday. I suppose Frederick or Bartow had carelessly put it in some place where it had lain forgotten. It would indeed have been a pity that such a letter should have been lost. There is something in the style and arrangement of the words which would have done honour to a girl of sixteen.

All three of the Miss A.'s will visit New-York next summer, and pass some weeks there. I hope to be at home in ten or twelve days from this time. Let me receive one or two more letters from you, even if you are obliged to neglect a lesson to find time to write them.

Alexis [2] often bids me to send you some polite and respectful message on his part, which I have heretofore omitted. He is a faithful, good boy. Upon our return home he hopes you will teach him to read.

I am, my dear Theo.,

Your affectionate papa,

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 24th February, 1793

MY DEAR THEO.,

In looking over a list made yesterday (and now before me), of letters of consequence to be answered immediately, I find the name of T.B. Burr. At the time I made the memorandum I did not advert to the compliment I paid you by putting your name in a list with some of the most eminent persons in the United States. So true is it that your letters are really of consequence to me. I now allude to that of the 19th instant, covering a fable and riddle. If the whole performance was your own, which I am inclined to hope and believe, it indicates an improvement in style, in knowledge of the French, and in your handwriting. I have therefore not only read it several times, but shown it to several persons with pride and pleasure.

I confess myself unable to solve your riddle, unless the teeth or the alphabet (generally supposed to be twenty-four in each) will give the solution. But I have not yet had an opportunity to consult Miss P. A. To-morrow I shall call on her for the purpose, and will not fail to inform you of her conjectures on the subject.

Your affectionate papa,

A. BURR,

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 16th December, 1793.

I have a thousand questions to ask, my dear Theo., but nothing to communicate; and thus I fear it will be throughout the winter, for my time is consumed in the dull uniformity of study and attendance in Senate; but every hour of your day is interesting to me. I would give, what would I not give to see or know even your most trifling actions and amusements? This, however, is more than I can ask or expect. But I do expect with impatience your journal. Ten minutes every evening I demand; if you should choose to make it twenty, I shall be the better pleased. You are to note the occurrences of the day as concisely as you can; and, at your pleasure, to add any short reflections or remarks that may arise. On the other leaf I give you a sample of the manner of your journal for one day.

18th December,

I began this letter at the date which you see, being Monday last—was interrupted, and the mail closed. Yesterday I was confined with a severe headache, owing, I believe, to a change from an active to a sedentary life without a corresponding change in diet.

A week and more has elapsed since I left home, and not a line from you; not even the Sunday letter. Observe, that the journal is to be sent to me enclosed in a letter every Monday morning.

Plan of the Journal.

16th December, 1793.

Learned 230 lines, which finished Horace. Heigh-ho for Terence and the
Greek grammar to-morrow.

Practised two hours less thirty-five minutes, which I begged off.

Hewlett (dancing-master) did not come.

Began Gibbon last evening. I find he requires as much study and attention as Horace; so I shall not rank the reading of him among amusements.

Skated an hour; fell twenty times, and find the advantage of a hard head and

Ma better—dined with us at table, and is still sitting up and free from pain.

Your affectionate papa,

A. BURR.

TO MRS. BURR.

Philadelphia, 24th December, 1793.

Since being at this place I have had several conversations with Dr. Rush respecting your distressing illness, and I have reason to believe that he has given the subject some reflection. He has this evening called on me, and given me as his advice that you should take hemlock. He says that, in the way in which it is usually prepared, you should commence with a dose of one tenth of a grain, and increase as you may find you can bear it; that it has the narcotic powers of opium, superadded to other qualities. When the dose is too great, it may be discovered by a vertigo or giddiness; and that he has known it to work wonderful cures. I was the more pleased with this advice, as I had not told him that you had been in the use of this medicine; the concurrence of his opinion gives me great faith in it. God grant that it may restore your health, and to your affectionate

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 25th December, 1793.

The letter, my dear Theo., which (I have no doubt) you wrote me last Sunday, has not yet come to hand. Am I to blame Strong? or the postmaster? or whom?

When you have finished a letter, read it carefully over, and correct all the errors you can discover. In your last there were some which could not, upon an attentive perusal, have escaped your notice, as you shall see when we meet.

I have asked you a great many questions, to which I have as yet no answers. When you sit down to write to me, or when you set about it, be it sitting or standing, peruse all my letters, and leave nothing unanswered. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 31st December, 1793.

I received your letter and journal yesterday in the Senate Chamber, just before the closing of the mail, so that I had only time to acknowledge it by a hasty line. You see I never let your letters remain a day unanswered, in which I wish you would imitate me. Your last had no date; from the last date in the journal, and your writing about Christmas holydays as yet at some distance, I suppose you wrote about Sunday the 22d. Nine days ago! I beg you again to read over all my letters, and to let me see by your answers that you attend to them. I suspect your last journal was not written from day to day; but all on one, or at most two days, from memory. How is this? Ten or fifteen minutes every evening would not be an unreasonable sacrifice from you to me. If you took the Christmas holydays, I assent: if you did not, we cannot recall the time. This is all the answer which that part of your letter now admits of.

It is said that some few yet die of the yellow fever which lately raged here; but the disorder does not appear to be, at present, in any degree contagious; what may be the case upon the return of warm weather, is a subject of anxious conjecture and apprehension. It is probable that the session of Congress will continue into the summer.

Give a place to your mamma's health in your journal. Omit the formal conclusion of your letters, and write your name in a larger hand. I am just going to Senate, where I hope to meet a letter from you, with a continuation of your journal down to the 29th inclusive, which, if it gives a good account of you and mamma, will gladden the heart of

A BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 31st December, 1793.

This day's mail has brought me nothing from you. I have but two letters in three, almost four weeks, and the journal is ten days in arrear. What—can neither affection nor civility induce you to devote to me the small portion of time which I have required? Are authority and compulsion then the only engines by which you can be moved? For shame, Theo.! Do not give me reason to think so ill of you.

I wrote you this morning, and have nothing to add but the repetition of my warmest affection.

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 4th January, 1794.

At the moment of closing the mail yesterday, I received your letter enclosing the pills. I cannot refer to it by date, as it has none. Tell me truly, did you write it without assistance? Is the language and spelling your own? If so, it does you much honour. The subject of it obliged me to show it to Dr. Rush, which I did with great pride. He inquired your age half a dozen times, and paid some handsome compliments to the handwriting, the style, and the correctness of your letter.

The account of your mamma's health distresses me extremely. If she does not get better soon, I will quit Congress altogether and go home. Doctor Rush says that the pills contain two grains each of pure and fresh extract of hemlock; that the dose is not too large if the stomach and head can bear it; that he has known twenty grains given at a dose with good effect. To determine, however, whether this medicine has any agency in causing the sick stomach, he thinks it would be well to take an occasion of omitting it for a day or two, if Doctor Bard should approve of such an experiment, and entertains any doubts about the effects of the pills on the stomach. Some further conversation which I have had with Doctor Rush will be contained in a letter which I shall write by this post to Doctor Bard.

My last letter to you was almost an angry one, at which you cannot be much surprised when you recollect the length of time of your silence, and that you are my only correspondent respecting the concerns of the family. I expect, on Monday or Tuesday next, to receive the continuation of your journal for the fortnight past.

Mr. Leshlie will tell you that I have given directions for your commencing Greek. One half hour faithfully applied by yourself at study, and another at recitation with Mr. Leshlie, will suffice to advance you rapidly.

Your affectionate,

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 7th January, 1794.

When your letters are written with tolerable spirit and correctness, I read them two or three times before I perceive any fault in them, being wholly engaged with the pleasure they afford me; but, for your sake, it is necessary that I should also peruse them with an eye of criticism. The following are the only mispelled words. You write acurate for accurate; laudnam for laudanum; intirely for entirely; this last word, indeed, is spelled both ways, but entirely is the most usual and the most proper.

Continue to use all these words in your next letter, that I may see that you know the true spelling. And tell me what is laudanum? Where and how made? And what are its effects?

"It was what she had long wished for, and was at a loss how to procure it."

Don't you see that this sentence would have been perfect and much more elegant without the last it? Mr. Leshlie will explain to you why. By-the-by, I took the liberty to erase the redundant it before I showed the letter.

I am extremely impatient for your farther account of mamma's health. The necessity of laudanum twice a day is a very disagreeable and alarming circumstance. Your letter was written a week ago, since which I have no account. I am just going to the Senate Chamber, where I hope to meet a journal and letter. Affectionately,

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 8th January, 1794

Your two letters of Friday and Saturday came together by yesterday's mail, which did not arrive till near sunset. Your letter of Friday was not put into the postoffice until Saturday afternoon. You might have as well kept it in your own hands till Monday eleven o'clock. Since the receipt of these letters I have been three times to Doctor Rush to consult him about a drink for your mamma; but not having had the good fortune to find him, have written to him on the subject. I shall undoubtedly procure an answer in the course of this day, and will forward it by to-morrow's post.

I beg, Miss Prissy, that you will be pleased to name a single "unsuccessful effort" which you have made to please me. As to the letters and journals which you did write, surely you have reason abundant to believe that they gave me pleasure; and how the deuse I am to be pleased with those you did not write, and how an omission to write can be called an "effort," remains for your ingenuity to disclose.

You improve much in journalizing. Your last is far more sprightly than any of the preceding. Fifty-six lines sola was, I admit, an effort worthy of yourself, and which I hope will be often repeated. But pray, when you have got up to two hundred lines a lesson, why do you go back again to one hundred and twenty, and one hundred and twenty-five? You should strive never to diminish; but I suppose that vis inertiÆ, which is often so troublesome to you, does some times preponderate. So it is now and then even with your

A. BURR.

Learn the difference between then and than. You will soonest perceive it by translating them into Latin.

Let me see how handsomely you can subscribe your name to your next letter, about this size,

A. BURR.

TO HIS DAUGHTER THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 10th of January, 1794.

I fear that you will imagine that I have been inattentive to your last request about Dr. Rush; but the truth is, I can get nothing satisfactory out of him. He enumerates over to me all the articles which have been repeatedly tried, and some of which did never agree with your mamma. He is, however, particularly desirous that she should again try milk—a spoonful only at a time: another attempt, he thinks, should be made with porter, in some shape or other. Sweet oil, molasses, and milk, in equal proportions, he has known to agree with stomachs which had rejected every thing else. Yet he says, and with show of reason, that these things depend so much on the taste, the habits of life, the peculiarity of constitution, that she and her attending physician can be the best, if not the only advisers. It gives me very great pleasure to learn that she is now better. I shall write you again on Sunday, having always much to say to you

Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 13th January, 1794.

Your letter of the 9th, my dear Theo., was a most agreeable surprise to me. I had not dared even to hope for one until to-morrow. In one instance, at least, an attempt to please me has not been "unsuccessful." You see I do not forget that piece of impudence.

Doctor Rush says that he cannot conceive animal food to be particularly necessary; nourishment is the great object. He approves much of the milk punch and chocolate. The stomach must on no account be offended. The intermission of the pills for a few days (not however for a whole week) he thinks not amiss to aid in determining its effects. The quantity may yet be increased without danger, but the present dose is in his opinion sufficient; but after some days continual use, a small increase might be useful.

I was yesterday thronged with company from eight in the morning till eleven at night. The Greek signature, though a little mistaken, was not lost upon me. I have a letter from Mr. Leshlie, which pays you many compliments. He has also ventured to promise that you will every day get a lesson in Terence by yourself. You know how grateful this will be to

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 14th January, 1794.

I really think, my dear Theo., that you will be very soon beyond all verbal criticism, and that my whole attention will be presently directed to the improvement of your style. Your letter of the 9th is remarkably correct in point of spelling. That word rec_ie_ved still escapes your attention. Try again. The words wold and shold are mere carelessness; necess_e_ry instead of necess_a_ry, belongs, I suspect to the same class.

"Dr. B. called here, but did not speak of his having rec_ie_ved a letter from you, but desired," &c.

When I copied the foregoing, I intended to have shown you how to improve it; but, upon second thought, determine to leave it to yourself. Do me the favour to endorse it on, or subjoin it to, your next letter, corrected and varied according to the best of your skill.

"Ma begs you will omit the thoughts of leaving Congress," &c.; "omit" is improperly used here. You mean "abandon, relinquish, renounce, or abjure the thoughts," &c. Your mamma, Mr. Leshlie, or your dictionary (Johnson's folio), will teach you the force of this observation. The last of these words would have been too strong for the occasion. You have used with propriety the words "encomium" and "adopted." I hope you may have frequent occasion for the former, with the like application.

"Cannot be committed to paper," is well expressed.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 16th January, 1794.

I hope the mercury, if tried, will be used with the most vigilant caution and the most attentive observation of its first effects. I am extremely anxious and apprehensive about the event of such an experiment.

I fear, my dear little girl, that my letter of the 13th imposed too much upon you; if so, dispense with what you may find too troublesome. You perceive by this license the entire confidence which I place in your discretion.

Your journal still advances towards perfection. But the letter which accompanied it is, I remark with regret, rather a falling off. I have received none more carelessly written, or with more numerous omissions of words. I am sensible that many apologies are at hand; but you, perhaps, would not be sensible that any were necessary, if I should omit to remind you.

On Sunday se'nnight (I think the 26th) I shall, unless baffled or delayed by ice or weather, be with you at Richmond Hill. I will not bid you adieu till the Friday preceding. In the interim, we shall often in this way converse.

I continue the practice of scoring words for our mutual improvement.
The use, as applicable to you, was indicated in a former letter.

I am sure you will be charmed with the Greek language above all others. Adieu.

A. BURR.

TO THEODOSIA.

Philadelphia, 23d January, 1794.

Io, triumphe! There is not a word mispelled either in your journal or letter, which cannot be said of a single page you ever before wrote. The fable is quite classical, and, if not very much corrected by Mr. Leshlie, is truly a surprising performance, and written most beautifully. But what has become of poor Alpha Beta? Discouraged? That is impossible. Laid aside for the present? That, indeed, is possible, but by no means probable. Shall I guess again? Yes; you mean to surprise me with some astonishing progress. And yet, to confess the truth, your lessons in Terence, Exercises, and "music" (without a k, observe) seem to leave little time for any other study. I must remain in suspense for four days longer.

Doctor Rush thinks that bark would not be amiss, but may be beneficial if the stomach does not rebuke it, which must be constantly the first object of attention. He recommends either the cold infusion or substance as least likely to offend the stomach.

Be able, upon my arrival, to tell me the difference between an infusion and decoction; and the history, the virtues, and the botanical or medical name of the bark. Chambers will tell you more perhaps than you will wish to read of it. Your little mercurial disquisition is ingenious, and prettily told.

I have a most dreary prospect of weather and roads for my journey. I set off on Saturday morning, and much fear that it will take two or three days to get to Now-York.

A. BURR.

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 fÊte. 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, chÈre 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 vÉrole 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, vit 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, chÈre 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.

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, chÈre 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 dÉbut 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, chÉre 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.