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I HAVE no time nor accommodation to write of late ; besides, I. seldom know what to write, and when I do, I don't love to write it. One thing is now becoming more and more certain every day, that is, that our people will and do fight. And although they make a clumsy hand of it, yet they do better and better.
I am lodged in the house of General Roberdeau, an Israelite indeed, I believe, who with his sisters and children and servants does every thing to make us happy. We are highly favored. No other delegates are so well off. I am as well as usual. Your dream will never come to pass. You never can be coolly received by me while my heart beats and my senses remain.
I had no letter from you by the last post. Yours, yours, yours.