Philada 3. mo 4. 1807. Yes! dear Henry, not only when I am sitting in the parlour by myself, but almost at all other times do I think of thee - and of my dear Francis & William too! Your idea is so interwoven with my existance that I know not when it is, I do not think of you. And if this were not so, still there are so many objects which by the power of association of ideas, as it is called in philosophy - are so continually reminding me of you, that your images could not be long absent from my mind. I might almost say - innumerable are the mementos that call you up to my mental view! The Peach Tree when I look out of the Nursey Window, still kept from straying & drawn closer home by the chord of love fastened on it by thy own hand, the Rose-bush, the Amor. adulis &c. when I direct my view from the back parlour. Your letters almost in every corner the house - pictures - maps - nay the very pidgeons that fly round us, and the looks of the two dear little folks at home; every book that I read either pleasing or instructive, and a thousand etceteras. perpetually bring you to my thoughts. But why the question? and whence it otherwise? What a forlorn feeling must thou have had! it pained me to think of it! The most distant shadow of doubt on such a subject - must be sufficient to produce a heart-ach - for surely the diminution of parental interest & affection, must to a truly filial dispositon be one of the most heart-rending sorrows on earth! No, No, my son, this, I trust will never be our Case - but I am surpriz'd at what thou say'st about my writing - Have I not written several Letters lately? Pray inform me
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