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My dearest Friend
I received your Letter of December the 25th and am very glad to hear you are so comfortable. I should rejoice if you had fewer perplexities, that you might have more agreable Sensations; yet if we look through the year which is past, we have abundant cause for gratitude and thankfullness to Heaven both for public and private Blessings and if we have not all we wish, we have perhaps as much as we ought. It would therefore give me great pleasure to receive a Cheerfull Letter from you.
With respect to the Barn, I cannot conceive that any thing more is necessary than a Building calculated to keep the Hay secure, and accommodate the Stock which may be kept upon the place, like the one you built upon French place, only larger. If it is your intention that the Stables make a part of it, they certainly must be of the same height. Accordingly, there are 16 foot posts procured for them. I do not pretend to be any judge my self but tis said by those who are, that it will be a very Heavey looking Building and quite unaccommodating for Stables which will require to be tighter than the Barn. I should therefore think a plain Building for Stables seperate would be the best, but as you will very probable be at Home before any thing will be done, you will judge for yourself. The Boards cannot be struck; they are all Ice and Snow, and we have such cold weather and such repeated Snows, that I do not see any prospect of having them done till Spring.
I inclose a Letter from Mr. Smith, which gives me no hopes of seeing Thomas here soon. I have still my anxieties for his Safety.
I am as well as I have any Reason to expect after such a Summer. I take the Air and ride out when I can. Favorite has got well of his Lameness since I have procured him a new Shoemaker. [Mears?] was too clumsy for his delicate feet.Brother Cranch is about his House, feeble very feeble I think, yet very Solicitious about the Russians and Turks. His whole System is about to be fullfilld in Spight of Pater Wests predictions. I wish I had studied the prophecies. There seems to be so much pleasure in them.
Commodore Warren has compleated the destruction of the French Navey. Fortune, Fortune whom Buonaparte envokes so pathetically, seems to have forsaken them; and the Avenging Arm of omnipotence has overtaken them, through the three Hundred pages which his campaign in Itally contains. Not one word through the whole, which has any reference to the Being or Providence of a God. What a Set of wretches?
Adieu Mr. Black will call in a few minuts for my Letter. Ever Yours,
How do you like Richard?
[Endorsement -- see page image]