Maria Templeton to Margaret Bayard Smith, 29 October 1799

New York Oct 29 - 99

After I received your letter, dear Margaret, I am in daily expectation of returning to the city, and defered answering it on that account for it was very inconvenient to write while at Brunswick, as I was oblijed either to be surrounded by the family, or write on my knee.

We arrived last Tuesday, each succeeding day I have attempted to write but in vain, the moment I seated myself with that intention such a melancholy train of ideas, arriving from the mournful event that has occured, took possession of my mind, that I could not think of any other subject. Your Mama will feel this [stroke] most severely, it will be equal to the loss of a tenderly beloved child. How is she, Margaret? - and the children, where are they to be?

I intended going to see [Mr Warren] but the weather has been so unpleasant since my return that I could not venture to take so long a walk.

You will soon have Mr B - in Brunswick I suppose. Do Margaret give me a faithful journal of the time he passes with you, his converse is always interesting I am not surprized that your regard for him increased after the relation he gave you of himself, it placed him in a very favourable point of view. Did he tell you if his plans for the future were in any degree influenced by that circumstance? You may tell me this, for I am certain he would were I to ask him. But my dear Margaret was it right to tell Mr A [D-] that Mr B- has made you the confidant of an attachment of his. Perhaps you did not know that he keeps no secrets but his own. Bear with me, my sweet friend, though it may seem unkind to make such a [?] to your letter, yet be [—] assured I am motivated by the pure spirit of friendship.

I am very glad to hear your friend has become your preceptor. I knew you would derive invaluable advantage from his taking the truly friendly office, but feared false delivery would deter him. I often please myself with thinking what alterations will take place in your character, and what a valuable woman you will be, when you have been married two or three years, nor can I conclude these anticipations without wishing that the event from which I [hope] so much may soon arrive. I check the [regret] I sometimes feel at a [?] [nation] so [?], by reflecting that your fate is in the power of one, who makes all things [work together for] good, to those who love him. To his care I willingly resign all my wishes, not doubting but that he will do for me whatever is best; perhaps in mercy with-holding from me these things which I may imagine would constitute my happiness here, in order to secure to me a more real happiness hereafter

Yes, my friend, you are right to remain silent if communicating the [?] wants of your heart produces such painful effects. dBut Margaret there are moments in which we can speak on subjects on which at other times it is agony to think. If any such moments are yours, let them dear Margaret be devoted to me. To write is to still easier than to speak. My desire to be acquainted with your prospects does not spring from an idle curiosity which destitute of resources at home is incessantly endeavouring to satisfy itself abroad, but from a deep interest both in your welfare and your friend's, but if the information gives you the slightest pain I wish you not accept it, I wish to solace not to torment you.

Will the late election of the Governor of Pennsylvania effect your friend? Do you not find that his political opinions influence yours? are you not almost a democrat? or are you like myself, very, very moderate. How sorry I am that Mary and [James] will not come [on] this Autumn. Ah me! so [?] of my plans of felicity [?]. Will not sister Jane come, and you, and Maria? — I hope the Abington [?] will be serviceable - Do you

intend spending part of the winter with [Mrs Seat], she will [are long/ in loss?] appear in a new and interesting character, the presence of such a friend as you have we been to her will then be [peculiarly] requisite.

Mr Nicholson's family have returned, why have you not written to Maria, she is not accustomed to be thus neglected.

Mr Brown has relinquished his intention of coming hither this autumn.

I have just returned from a walk to Mrs Warren’s. I was disappointed she was gone to town. I called at [Mr Blacker's] who lives near where [Mrs W Gaye] and there heard she has a daughter. [Mr Blacker's] family will return to town on Thursday. It is said that [Anthony] is [?] Mary Jones; youthful beauty possesses irresistible attraction for him. I fear he does not [?] the plan of [entering] first and loving afterwards.

[Mrs Seat] has returned, but I have not not seen her. - Why has not [Maria] written to [?] I am quite chagrined at not hearing from her. [unintelligible sentence]

I do not know what affects me but I feel strangely. After writing two papers to you I [] [see] [Ms] W & Mr Nicholson was with me for half an hour. And now I feel as if I [expect -ed] some strange, [?] for occurrence would take place, I can neither read nor write, knowing thing happened to you? Perhaps a secret sympathy of [?] she’s feeling from whatever cause it since I am too much a friend to [?] to wish its long continuance. Write to me soon — Remember me to to write Jane

Farewell Maria Templeton.

This page is not transcribed, please help transcribe this page