I have been honoured by your Letter of the 18th—1 I have noticed its Contents, I consent to your wishes, and I will smother my own, if my heart cracks— my Idea of happiness, rests on the ability properly exercised—to promote the happiness of others, whenever I am furnished with this ability I exercise it, and consider myself obliged by the oportunity, I have written to Mrs: Smith, & you will consider your collective happiness as entitled to take rank of my individual— I must confess however I was a little derangè at first— I was disposed with ’Armstrong’ like a soft enthusiast to quit my lonely hut, and to the rivulets lonely Solitary moanings tune my sad complaint— I could not bear the cheerful haunts of men, nor mingle with the bustling croud—but when I reflected on my military garb, & nodding plume, I thought I’d better contemplate the more adventurous scene, of glowing fields were war grows hot, & raging through the sky, the lofty trumpet swells the maddening soul, and in the hardy camp, forget all softer and less manly cares—2 you would have been astonished with what rapidity Venus with her doves sought the Idalian Groves, when Mars put himself in a passion, that he might the better conceal his shagreen, when he was forced to say, notwithstanding, the enchanting eligence of the full swoln Cluster—that He would not touch the Grapes, for they were sower— you see I am not quite settled in my mind, excepting on that 157 particular point never to say no, when the more pleasing term yes, will promote your happiness & contribute to your amusements—

With the highest respect I have the Honor to be—Dear Madam / Your Most Obliged / and Obedient / Humble Serv

I have received your letter, by the Paymaster, of the 12th.1 I see your embarrassments, and if I were not prominent to relieve you from them, I should forfeit my charter—the roads are bad, the season is inclement, the Delaware is almost impassable—your mamma cannot bear to part with you, and the President does not know how to let C—— go. These are truths which nobody can deny. I will continue to be honest and say, you must not encounter the hazards of the first, nor do violence to affection, in the last, though I should be happy to have you here. I candidly think, for yourself, you are better there for the present. I am totally absorbed in military business and instruction; I have not been out of the cantonment for sixteen days— I have got handsomely through the duties of the 22d. We are all in harmony and good humour—our camp is a military paradise; if I look, they are solicitous to understand it—if I speak, they jump to execute; in short, they are all obedience, and I am more placid and elegantly serene, than ever you saw me; I think sometimes, if you could but remark me through the day, you would be half in love with me by tea time. You know the point of time, when that generally takes place; for myself, I never take tea in the afternoon.

We had a great collection of folks on Saturday. The Brigade moved to a charm; a prayer, composed on the occasion, was handsomely addressed; a military oration, elegantly delivered; and three verses chaunted to a charm, accompanied with martial music—there is no other worth hearing. Not wishing to dismiss the throng too solemnly impressed, I gave order, that the duties of the day should close with an unison of sentiment and voice, resounding through 158 our camp, and echoing from the neighbouring mountains. Attention, fellow-soldiers:—To the memory of George Washington, called from labour to refreshment, by the Grand Master of the Universe— three cheers and a six-pounder. To the United States and the Federal Constitution—three cheers and a six-pounder. To John Adams, President of the United States, may every blessing attend his exertions in our country’s cause—three cheers and a six-pounder. To the Empire, rising in this Western World; Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men—three cheers and a six-pounder. Drums, signals, columns moving, reducing the hollow square, and opening in full parade with open columns, we, with military dignity, left the stage and the gaping multitude, attentive to the precision of the movement, and the enchanting music of the President’s march.2 You laugh, I know, at my military enthusiasm; laugh on. I really feel sometimes, as if I could “play at bowls with the sun and the moon, and frighten the world with eclipses.”3 Good night, lest I frighten you.

Give my love to your mamma, and believe me, / Yours, truly,