 | Letters of Mrs. Adams, |  |
TO JOHN ADAMS.[1]
My habitation, how disconsolate it looks! my table, I
sit down to it, but cannot swallow my food! O, why
was I born with so much sensibility, and why, possessing
it, have I so often been called to struggle
with it? I wish to see you again. Were I sure you
would not be gone, I could not withstand the temptation
of coming to town, though my heart would suffer
over again the cruel torture of separation.
What a cordial to my dejected spirits were the
few lines last night received! And does your heart
forebode that we shall again be happy? My hopes
and fears rise alternately. I cannot resign more
than I do, unless life itself were called for. My dear
sons, I cannot think of them without a tear. Little
do they know the feelings of a mother's heart. May
they be good and useful as their father! Then will
they, in some measure, reward the anxiety of a
mother. My tenderest love to them. Remember me
also to Mr. Thaxter, whose civilities and kindness I
shall miss.
God Almighty bless and protect my dearest friend,
and in his own time, restore him to the affectionate
bosom of
| Letters of Mrs. Adams, | |