William Paterson letter to Aaron Burr, 29 September 1779

Morristown, 29th September, 1779.

DEAR Burr,

About four weeks ago I received a letter from you of the 8th of August, and, a week after, another of the 23d. They came by the way of Moorestown, from which to Rariton, where I reside. The conveyance is easy and safe. I cannot point out any mode of sending your letters better than that which you have adopted.

I was pleased extremely to hear from you, and, indeed, was quite disappointed in not hearing from you sooner. I was for a time in expectation that you would return into Jersey, as the scene of military operations was directed to your part of the world, and would unavoidably drive you from your study and repose. Military operations are so fluctuating and uncertain as to render it exceedingly difficult to fix upon a retreat which may not be broken in upon in the course of a campaign. New-Haven bid fair to be the seat of calmness and serenity, of course well suited for a studious and contemplative mind, and therefore made choice of as the place of your abode. New-Haven, however, partook of the common calamity; and, in the evolution of human events, from a place of safety and repose, was turned into a place of confusion and war.

You are not contented, my dear Burr, and why are you not? You sigh for New-Jersey, and why do you not return? It is true we are continually broken in upon by the sons of tumult and war. Our situation is such that the one army or the other is almost constantly with us, and yet we rub along with tolerable order, spirit, and content. Oh! that the days of peace would once more return, that we might follow what business, partake of what amusements, and think and live as we please. As to myself, I am, my dear Burr, one of the happiest of men. The office I hold calls me too frequently, and detains me too long, from home, otherwise I should enjoy happiness as full and high as this world can afford. It is, as you express it, serene, rural, and sentimental; and such, one day, you will feel.

You see no company--you partake of no amusements--you are always grave. Such, too, has been the life that I have lived for months and years. I cannot say that it is an unpleasing one. I avoided company; indeed, I do so still, unless it be the company of chosen friends. I have been ever fond of my fireside and study--ever fond of calling up some absent friend, and of living over, in idea, past times of sentimental pleasure. Fancy steps in to my aid, colours the picture, and makes it delightful indeed. You are in the very frame of mind I wish you to be; may it continue.

I cannot tell you what has become of Mrs. Prevost's affairs. About two months ago I received a very polite letter from her. She was apprehensive that the commissioners would proceed. It seems they threatened to go on. I wrote them on the subject, but I have not heard the event. I am at this place, on my way to a superior court in Bergen. If possible, I shall wait on the good gentlewoman. At Bergen I shall inquire into the state of the matter. It will, indeed, turn up of course. You shall soon hear from me again. Adieu. May health and happiness await you

WILLIAM PATERSON.