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.