Since I have been at this place I have had a letter from Mrs. Paterson, who is well. Our little girl, who was indisposed when I left home, is not worse. I flatter myself I shall find her better when I return. Alas, that I cannot be more at home. A husband and a parent have a thousand tendernesses that you know nothing of. Adieu, my dear Burr; live and be happy.
I want words to express the pleasure I feel at the receipt of yours of the 22d, by the boy who came for your horse. It relieved me from a burden which had sunk my spirits lower than I recollect them to have been by any calamity I have met with during the war. My imagination had crowded my mind with a thousand melancholy reflections from the moment I got your letter by Dr. Cutting, who, like a modern well-bred gentleman, left it at my lodgings only three days ago. Some evil genius certainly interrupts our correspondence. I write letters without number, and yet you seldom hear from me, and when you do, the letter is as old as if it had come from the other side of the Atlantic. It is exactly the case with yours.
Mr. Paterson has been more unfortunate than I. He has often complained of your neglect, as he thought it; but I informed him of the fate my letters shared, and he was easy. However, he desired me last night to give you a hint, that he had lately written you several long letters without receiving an answer to either. He is now at Princeton, attending court. I shall forward your letter that accompanied mine to him by a safe conveyance. Paterson really loves you with the tenderest affection, and can scarcely speak of your state of health without shedding a friendly tear. As God is my judge, I could not forbear shedding several when I read yours by Dr. Cutting, which is the first I have had from you in near five weeks. I was afraid all farther attempts to recover your health, so as to qualify you to execute our plan, would be fruitless. In short, I thought you on the brink of eternity, ready to take your final farewell of this wrangling world. The critical situation of your sister increased my distress, and extinguished every hope. How much more happy should I be if your sister's health took the same fortunate turn. Your ride to Litchfield must be doubly agreeable, as it will tend to establish your health and better hers.