At Newort. 67 



I have to write slowly and imperfectly, it ex- 

 hausts me ; yet I find it hard to stop. 



Tell my children to obey their mother, and to 

 think of their absent father, who rejoices on their 

 account, that he has risen almost from the grave. 



About their health. Should they be taken ill, 

 send for Dr. Wilson. I have confidence in his 

 skill; his attentions, I know, will be unbounded; 

 and if there is danger he will call in a consulting 

 physician. Leave the rest to Providence, and do 

 not make yourself unhappy about them. Kiss 

 them all for me. J. B. 



Extract of a letter to a friend and neighbor in 

 Charleston : 



NEWPORT, R. I., September 5th, 1827. 



MY DEAR GORDO> T : I arrived in the North in 

 health and spirits. Found my poor mother a 

 cripple for life ; but her general health has im- 

 proved. I had a fortnight to spare before I could 

 attend to business, and we concluded, suddenly, to 

 take a trip to the West and North. Miss Martin is 

 an excellent travelling companion, and we picked 

 up, at the start, a most delightful party, that made 

 a journey of twelve hundred miles most pleasant. 

 We travelled sometimes in carriages and sometimes 

 in canal boats sometimes straight forward, and at 

 other times out of the way to see a curiosity. 

 Sometimes we rested a day, and at other times 

 travelled at night. The eye of curiosity was wide 

 awake. The wonders of nature and art were thrown 

 open before us. The western parts of New York 

 have recently, with a giant's stride, emerged from a 

 wilderness to a garden, and fine towns of brick 

 houses, and taverns, and churches, have sprung up 



