TO MRS. BURR.
Poughkeepsie, 29th June, 1788.
I have sat an hour at the door watching the arrival of the stage. At length it comes, and your dear packet is handed to me just in season to be acknowledged by Mr. Johnstone. He will tell you of the further progress of my business and my intended movements. I go this evening to Rhinebeck. How wishfully I look homeward. I like your industry, and will certainly reward it as you shall direct.
My time is much engrossed. My health perfectly good. You say nothing of yours; but your industry is a good omen. You can write to me by Monday's stage, directed to be forwarded to me from Rhinebeck. I shall be then at Kingston. Much love to the smiling little girl. I received her letter, but not the pretty things. I continually plan my return with childish impatience, and fancy a thousand incidents which render it more interesting. Reserve your health and spirits, and I shall not be deceived.
Affectionately,
A. BURR.
TO MRS. BURR.
Albany, August 7th, 1788.
Oh Theo.! there is the most delightful grove—so darkened with weeping willows, that at noonday a susceptible fancy like yours would mistake it for a bewitching moonlight evening. These sympathizing willows, too, exclude even the prying eye of curiosity. Here no rude noise interrupts the softest whisper. Here no harsher sound is heard than the wild cooings of the gentle dove, the gay thresher's animated warbles, and the soft murmurs of the passing brook. Really, Theo., it is charming.
I should have told you that I am speaking of Fort Johnson, where I have spent a day. From this amiable bower you ascend a gentle declivity, by a winding path, to a cluster of lofty oaks and locusts. Here nature assumes a more august appearance. The gentle brook, which murmured soft below, here bursts a cataract. Here you behold the stately Mohawk roll his majestic wave along the lofty Apalachians. Here the mind assumes a nobler tone, and is occupied by sublimer objects. What there was tenderness, here swells to rapture. It is truly charming.