Bestow what pains, offer
what advantages you may to a dull subject, and she will remain
stationary. One of taste and talents, on the contrary, extracts
improvement from every thing, and approaches perfection in proportion
as the means of advancement are afforded.
What grave nonsense, you will say, or at least think, if this should
find you, as is probable, surrounded by admirers uniting to persuade
you that you are already perfect; and in such company how stupid a
compliment will it seem to tell you that you may still improve; that
there are no limits to the improvement and approaches which you may
make towards perfection. Such, however ungallant, will be the language
of your admirer and friend,
A. BURR.
TO THEODOSIA.
New-York, May 8, 1804.
I think I have answered, or at least have noticed, your letter of the
17th, being the last which has been received, and, as usual,
postmarked nine days after its date.
The affair of La G. is becoming serious. After due reflection, this
does appear to me to be the most discreet thing--prudence,
cheerfulness, and good-temper are ingredients of importance. I will
offer homage. Are you content? Answer quickly.
Madame Bonaparte and husband are here. I have just seen them and no
more. For reasons unknown to me (doubtless some state policy), we are
suddenly become strangers.
Of all earthly things I most want to see your boy.
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