Maria Templeton to Margaret Bayard Smith, 25 November 1800

Maria Templeton

New York November 25 [?]

Your letter my dear Margaret was truly a charming one, it almost gave me a place at your tea-table, a view of the boat where you delivered your astronomical lecture, and of the interesting female towards you felt so much disposed to act the Philanthropist. Your pen is well adapted to describe these scenes in which you are enjoyed, they are rendered more interesting by detail. Continue to give them to me in this way my dear Margaret, they will gratify me because told by you, they will add to, or rather they will support to its usual elevation the spirit of friendship, and if you will still allow me the invaluable priviledge of commenting on your actions, and pointing out objections where they do not exactly accord with my ideas of right, and propriety. I think your relations will be highly useful to us both, to me, by increasing my knowledge of the world, and be ing almost as advantageous as a visit to Washington and perhaps to you, my dear Margaret, by showing you how those actions, to which you might be prompted more by the momentary impulse of feeling than the calm dictate of judgment appear to one who though a cool observer, yet enters fully, and zealously into every concern in which your excellent heart finds itself interested.

Say, dear Margaret, can you allow your noblest actions to be discussed, as if they had been better left undone, till you had first called on other powers besides generosity: your best feelings questioned; as if they were more guided by an ardent imagination than by a sound, deliberating judgment. Say, can you feel sufficient confidence in me to believe that I am actuated by the pure spirit of friendship, a friendship sincere, strong, and hitherto undeviating, which makes me not merely contented with receiving pleasure from your recitals, and, bestowing general commendation on return, but which leads me to discriminate between your motives to action, and your actions themselves, and while I acknowledge the former to be praise worthy, think the latter might sometimes involve you in painful embarrassment. which might be avoided by a greater degree of prudence, without obliging you to relinquish your benevolent designs. Say with sincerity, dear friend, from that hea[rt] which I know to be one of the best in the world if I sometimes ass[...] censor, will you continue to unfold all your pl[?] [...] have been doing, with the utmost freedom und[...] inviting animadversion certain that it will come from [...]

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will only mention those faults which you can overcome, who having very often been made sensible of the falibility of human reason, believes it may be serviceable even to those who are generally [corrrect?] to learn how their actions are regarded by others. I did not intend this preamble should have been so long, my dear Margaret, but as I more frequently err in making them too short, if in consequence of your permission, I should sometimes appear harsh, read this over as a prelude, and believe that I felt when writing it as I do at this moment and I am sure you will not only pardon, but love me the better for it. But I [conjure?] you again to deal candidly with me, if my soberness, my apparently cold hearted [prudence?] chills your affection for me, and makes you less willing to communicate to me all your schemes of utility & benevolence, tell me so, and I will reserve my strictures till the voice of duty positively command me to break silence.

I love to enter into your feelings, Margaret, to be your invisible companion, and when you were in the boat, I sat beside you, and shared your pleasure but when you landed in the crowded wharf "the only female amid such a throng of men," I started from you, and asked what brought you there. I would not be your associate if it were mere curiosity. I love independance when it enables us the better to fulfil our duties, but not when its greatest effect is to draw upon us public attention, and make our character a subject for public investigation, generally the [retired?] virtues are those which women ought most assiduously to cultivate. I should not [not legible] you to be of the school of Mary Godwin. Margaret, you have a mind of the first order, a considerable degree of cultivation, no small knowledge of the world in theory, [tho?] not quite so much in practice, and what is of most importance an excellent heart. and yet with all these advantages you too often suffer an all [potent?] and irregular imagination to mislead your judgment. You often appear to act more from a momentary impulse than upon settled principles. I am harsh, you will say, dear Margaret, and that your little excursion to Alexandria was not [sufficient?] to make me go so far; [true?] it was not, at that moment I was thinking of the woman, in whose service your benevolence was so warmly engaged. Say, Margaret, was not your promise to be her agent rather the indulgence of feeling than the performance of a duty? It is our duty to assist the unfortunate & to proportion our assist ance rather to their necessities than their [deserts?], but before we promise to interest others in their behalf ought we not to enquire what their merits are and not excite hope [not legible] you may have taken this necessary caution [tho?] you did not [not legible] first seeing this woman and you return to her house you [not legible] self as to the goodness of her character, and found her deserv

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of the utmost exertions of your benevolence. Pardon me, dear Margaret, if you have for these [deleted] misapplied comments. Perhaps they might not have occurred to me had I not heard Mrs. Brown mention Mrs. Beckley as having been placed in an embarrassing situation [deleted[from[deleted] by a woman like the one you describe. She was young and Mrs. B. says had an extremely interesting and innocent countenance, had lost her husband with the yellow fever, was left in poverty and wished to support herself by taking lodgers. Mrs. Beckley was so much pleased with her appearance and manner that she determined to exert her endeavours to serve her, and in a short time procured her several lodgers, who to Mrs. B.'s surprise and mortification discovered her character to be infamous. Though finding one person worthless ought not to lead us to suspect every other of being so, yet it teaches us that degree of prudence [deleted] which is so essential to the existence of benevolence without which a virtue is degraded to a weakness. I hope you will not take what I say ill, but just as a I mean it, and continue to tell me all your adventures. Washington I imagine will be the theatre for adventures, and you are formed to delight in them, and will you not let me [share?] [deleted] your pleasure, yes, dear Margaret I know you will, you will take what I have said in good [part?]; I am sure you would if you had seen me writing it. All my leisure for four days has been devoted to you the employment has really been a solace to me, during a time of solitude and extreme anxiety. Eliza has been very ill with the pleurisy, and though out of danger is still confined to her bed. I am sitting in her chamber, a watch before me, to remind me when to give her medicine, thus I have written this letter, sometimes gone [?] three sentences, and [often?] had to leave one [unfinished?] -- Wednesday will be two weeks since she was taken ill, and except a small portion of two days, entirely confined to her bed. She has [?] [evinced?] a greater degree of patience than could have been expected from one so unused to ill health and confinement. She had some reluctance to have a blister applied to her side, expecially when a second was thought necessary, but she bore the pain with great fortitude, and made no objectioin to being bled twice. Not a murmur escapes from her.... She takes her medicines though nauseous and [frequent?] without difficulty, dear girl. I shall love her a great deal more for so well supporting Mrs. [?]. Since I have known her value I have never apprehended that she might be taken from me, but now the anxiety I have experienced seems to have endeared her ten times more to me. --

Margaret your letter was a very sweet one, I have read it many times. I love your accommodating disposition, your ability to draw entertainment from every circumstance that occurs, and at the same time to entertain and instruct others. -- I [?] [?] [disposed?] I feel for writing a long, very long letter to you, but I cannot indulge the wish I must do my duty, [Mama?] cannot remember the time Eliza is to take her medicine, so she has it only from me, every half hour, and beside that, I prepare all her nourishment, and you know not how much delight I find in endeavouring to make it palatable, no favourite study ever gave one half so much pleasure, Oh Margaret! indeed, I think I should make a good wife, though you are of a different opinion. Aunt Barton says I make a very excellent [household?]

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for I have had the entire care of the family, since Eliza has been sick and have made some excellent hashes, almost as good as Sister [Somers?]. Margaret if you get any good & economical receipts send them to me when you have an opportunity. I like your intentions in regard to your family and hope Betsey may be as deserv[ing?] as [expect?] - - [deletion] Do cultivate Mrs. Brown acquaintance. I have seen her almost every day since my return from Brunswick till lately and esteem her more than ever.

I have just returned from making her a short visit, and have been introduced by her to Mr. Brown. Mr. Mason however [?] him to his library, so I had no conversation with him. Margaretta has given me the "Pleasures of [?]" as a remembrance. I love to cherish this "[fairy?] promiser of joy", and perhaps it may prove as kind a friend to me as you have found it. Margaret, when I read this book I shall recollect the evenings we both listened to it with so much delight. --You have heard from Mr. Bleecker on this, he told me he had written to you. Mr. Johnson brought me several of Mr. Smith's papers to read on Saturday, but I have not been able to read a line! Eliza is so much better this evening that I hope to read some of them tomorrow. This [friend?] supplies me with food for the mind as usual, indeed, I think, I find more pleasure in reading books that belong to my friends, than those which are my property, or which I procure from the libaray. I always connect the idea of the person from whom I received the book with the opinions of the author and conjecture how far they would coincide, and what perhaps would give the owner most pleasure. I sometimes go further than I ought, and estimate a book too highly from having received from one I greatly regarded, but if there be such [?] is a good fault to be easily pleased. --

I had a charming visit from [Irene?] Stanson this morning. She enquired after you. I have not seen Fanny Johnson for some days, the wet walking, she sent me word had prevented her going out, and I have been confined to the house almost a fortnight. She continues to rise in my estimation, and I promise much satisfaction from her society this winter, and that of her excellent brother. If deserving happiness is the sure way of obtaining it, he surely must be happy, for I know few whose consciences ought to be more tranquil. I see him frequently, but not as often as when you were here. When I told him I had written to you last, he said Did you remember me to her, and say how ardently I wish her welfare. I do not feel myself at liberty to write to her, but you must not neglect again to assure her of my regard. -- He is one those, you know, who disapprove of females having male correspondents, unless they are relatives, and more especially married ladies. It has always been my opinion that married women should be more reserved towards gentlemen than those who are unmarried, such conduct is necessary to support their