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Isabella Marshall Graham1772-01-01John GrahamSchenectady, NYMY DEAREST DOCTOR,I WAS made happy with your letter this evening by post, the first from New-York, and third in all. I am very lucky. I have got the half you have sent; yet it is still a satisfaction to know that you wrote, though I should never see them. This is the fourth from me, and you have received none; it is hard, but how could you threaten so? Were you never to see a line from me, you might be sure, I could not keep long silence. You have alarmed me, my love -- the transports were to sail with other vessels, which have now arrived. Grandidier is gone, McA -- goes on Monday, and not one word either of your coming up, or allowing me to go down; for heaven's-- 60 --sake, Doctor, do not leave me. I cannot, indeed I cannot, stay behind. I must risk all or be miserable. I repeat, dear Doctor, do not leave me; if you must go, I must follow. I would go down with Mrs. McA --, but I am afraid of disobliging you, as you give me no sort of license. I look at your letter from Albany. You say there is a probability of your leaving the army. What has become of that probability? To-morrow is Sunday. I shall not think it wrong to add a line or two, if I have any thing to say that may be written.Sunday Evening.I have been to church all day, but could not attend. I read that part of your letter to Captain McA -- regarding the transports; he and his lady are of opinion that I ought to go with them. O, that I were at liberty. My mind is like the troubled sea -- now I think I will go, again I think I will wait; nothing but the fear of disobliging you, which I never did willingly in my life, prevents me from packing up.When I came home from church I found my children a great trouble to me. That I might be-- 61 --at liberty to ruminate at large, my God only present, I went into the fields. It was a charming evening, not a breath of wind, nor any thing to be heard, but the lowing of cattle at a distance, the chirping of grasshoppers amongst my feet, and the soft murmurs of the creek winding along; yet this deep, serene scene could not compose my roubled mind. I poured out my soul into the bosom of my God, and implored his direction. I considered probabilities, according to their various appearances, and am yet undetermined.Upon reviewing what I wrote yesterday, I find I am unworthy to be heard: have I not given over myself and concerns to the direction of Providence? Often have I, since I parted with you, begged and prayed with all my heart, that God would direct your judgment, that he would lead you to take such measures as might, in the end, prove best for you and yours, and form and fix your resolutions, with this promise, that I would acquiesce in whatever was done; and now I begin to retract, and say, I will not submit -- frail mortal! Forgive me, my God -- forgive me, my husband. Let Him do with me what he sees best, and through you whom He has made my lord,-- 62 --choose for us, what He in his infinite wisdom sees fittest for us.Now I will conclude lest I again relapse. Farewell, I am more than I can express,Your affectionate wife,I. Graham.
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MY DEAREST DOCTOR,I WAS made happy with your letter this evening by post, the first from New-York, and third in all. I am very lucky. I have got the half you have sent; yet it is still a satisfaction to know that you wrote, though I should never see them. This is the fourth from me, and you have received none; it is hard, but how could you threaten so? Were you never to see a line from me, you might be sure, I could not keep long silence. You have alarmed me, my love -- the transports were to sail with other vessels, which have now arrived. Grandidier is gone, McA -- goes on Monday, and not one word either of your coming up, or allowing me to go down; for heaven's-- 60 --sake, Doctor, do not leave me. I cannot, indeed I cannot, stay behind. I must risk all or be miserable. I repeat, dear Doctor, do not leave me; if you must go, I must follow. I would go down with Mrs. McA --, but I am afraid of disobliging you, as you give me no sort of license. I look at your letter from Albany. You say there is a probability of your leaving the army. What has become of that probability? To-morrow is Sunday. I shall not think it wrong to add a line or two, if I have any thing to say that may be written.Sunday Evening.I have been to church all day, but could not attend. I read that part of your letter to Captain McA -- regarding the transports; he and his lady are of opinion that I ought to go with them. O, that I were at liberty. My mind is like the troubled sea -- now I think I will go, again I think I will wait; nothing but the fear of disobliging you, which I never did willingly in my life, prevents me from packing up.When I came home from church I found my children a great trouble to me. That I might be-- 61 --at liberty to ruminate at large, my God only present, I went into the fields. It was a charming evening, not a breath of wind, nor any thing to be heard, but the lowing of cattle at a distance, the chirping of grasshoppers amongst my feet, and the soft murmurs of the creek winding along; yet this deep, serene scene could not compose my roubled mind. I poured out my soul into the bosom of my God, and implored his direction. I considered probabilities, according to their various appearances, and am yet undetermined.Upon reviewing what I wrote yesterday, I find I am unworthy to be heard: have I not given over myself and concerns to the direction of Providence? Often have I, since I parted with you, begged and prayed with all my heart, that God would direct your judgment, that he would lead you to take such measures as might, in the end, prove best for you and yours, and form and fix your resolutions, with this promise, that I would acquiesce in whatever was done; and now I begin to retract, and say, I will not submit -- frail mortal! Forgive me, my God -- forgive me, my husband. Let Him do with me what he sees best, and through you whom He has made my lord,-- 62 --choose for us, what He in his infinite wisdom sees fittest for us.Now I will conclude lest I again relapse. Farewell, I am more than I can express,Your affectionate wife,I. Graham.