THEODOSIA.
TO MRS. BURR.
Chester, May, 1785.
I joined the commissioners and parties in the woods, near this place, on Wednesday noon; found the weather severe, and roads bad. Have, since my arrival, been following the commissioners in their surveys. Nothing transpires from which we can conjecture their intentions.
This morning came your kind, your affectionate, your truly welcome letter of Monday evening. Where did it loiter so long? Nothing in my absence is so flattering to me as your health and cheerfullness. I then contemplate nothing so eagerly as my return; amuse myself with ideas of my own happiness, and dwell on the sweet domestic joys which I fancy prepared for me.
Nothing is so unfriendly to every species of enjoyment as melancholy. Gloom, however dressed, however caused, is incompatible with friendship. They cannot have place in the mind at the same time. It is the secret, the malignant foe of sentiment and love. Adieu.
A. BURR.
FROM MRS. BURR.
New-York, May, 1785.
Your dear letter was handed me this day, at a moment which, if possible, increased its value. I have a little fever hanging about me, which tends to depress my spirits for the time. Your moralizing changed my dulness to a pleasing melancholy. I am mortified at the interruption it met, and impatient to renew the theme; to renew it in a more pleasing manner than even your letters afford. When my health is ill, I find your absence insupportable; every evil haunts me. It is the last that must take place till term; that I must submit to. I am pleased with your account of your health and spirits; they are both as I wish.