Easton (Maryland), March 13, 1802.
MY DEAR SIR,
I have long had it in serious contemplation to address a letter to
you, but have frequently been restrained, from a knowledge that your
time has been and still is devoted to public service, and that every
moment is precious; and often I have been prevented by my own
avocations and engagements on this our bustling stage. I have vanity
enough to think I possessed a share of your esteem and friendship,
which could only originate from your belief that I had a claim to the
virtues, truth, candour, and sincerity. I detest the character of a
hypocrite, and flatter myself no part of my past conduct can fix it
upon me. Then permit me, with solemn truth, to declare, that when I
see your name in the prints, I feel involuntarily an animating glow,
and it immediately brings to my recollection incidents sometimes
producing pleasing, and at others painful sensations, in which we have
been mutually engaged and gone hand in hand. Although, to borrow the
language of our president, there may exist shades of political
difference between us, I have been your defender; and it was well
understood and known that I spoke from an intimate acquaintance with
you as a soldier and a gentleman.
Frequent reflection upon the various scenes we have encountered
together has led me to lament the great distance that has so long
prevented any social intercourse; but if the following description of
a new route, when you revisit New-York, meets your approbation, I may
again have the happiness of a friendly salute of the hand.
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