Of the boy you never say enough. Nothing about his French in your last. I hope you talk to him much in French, and Eleonore always. A letter from Peggy says that Eleonore's boy was well on the 13th. Your icehouse and vaults are finished. Of Annapolis I find the newspapers have anticipated me. They will tell you where I dined, and supped, and whom I saw.
Madame Bonaparte passed a week here. She is a charming little woman; just the size and nearly the figure of Theodosia Burr Alston; by some thought a little like her; perhaps not so well in the shoulders; dresses with taste and simplicity (by some thought too free); has sense, and spirit, and sprightliness. A little of the style and manner of Susan Smith.
Mrs. Merry [2] is tall, fair, fat—pas trop, however. No more than a desirable embonpoint. Much of grace and dignity, ease and sprightliness; full of intelligence. An Englishwoman who has lived much in Paris, and has all that could be wished of the manners of both countries. An amiable and interesting companion, with whose acquaintance you will, next summer, be much gratified. She proposes to pass some time in New-York.
I want a French translation of the Constitution of the United States, and, for the purpose, send you a copy in English. It will, I fear, be a great labour to you; but I cannot get it done here, and it may not be useless to you to burnish up your French a little. Do you ever hear from Natalie? I have not yet written to her. How scandalous.
You do not say whether the boy knows his letters. I am sure he may now be taught them, and then put a pen into his hand, and set him to imitate them. He may read and write before he is three years old. This, with speaking French, would make him a tolerably accomplished lad of that age, and worthy of his blood.
A most bitter cold day. Bon jour.
A. BURR.
TO JOSEPH ALSTON.
Washington, January 18, 1804.
I have been greatly flattered by the applauses bestowed on your speech at Columbia. Send me half a dozen copies. Why have you not already done it?