University of Virginia Library

TO JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

Your letter, last evening received from Bilboa, relieved
me from much anxiety; for, having a day or
two before received letters from your papa, Mr.
Thaxter,[1] and brother, in which packet I found none
from you, nor any mention made of you, my mind,
ever fruitful in conjectures, was instantly alarmed.
I feared you were sick, unable to write, and your
papa, unwilling to give me uneasiness, had concealed
it from me; and this apprehension was confirmed
by every person's omitting to say how long they
should continue in Bilboa.

Your father's letters came to Salem, yours to
Newburyport, and soon gave ease to my anxiety, at
the same time that it excited gratitude and thankfulness
to Heaven, for the preservation you all experienced
in the imminent dangers which threatened
you. You express in both your letters a degree of
thankfulness. I hope it amounts to more than words,
and that you will never be insensible to the particular
preservation you have experienced in both your
voyages. You have seen how inadequate the aid of
man would have been, if the winds and the seas had

not been under the particular government of that
Being, who "stretched out the heavens as a span,"
who "holdeth the ocean in the hollow of his hand,"
and "rideth upon the wings of the wind."

If you have a due sense of your preservation, your
next consideration will be, for what purpose you are
continued in life. It is not to rove from clime to
clime, to gratify an idle curiosity; but every new
mercy you receive is a new debt upon you, a new
obligation to a diligent discharge of the various relations
in which you stand connected; in the first place,
to your great Preserver; in the next, to society in
general; in particular, to your country, to your
parents, and to yourself.

The only sure and permanent foundation of virtue
is religion. Let this important truth be engraven
upon your heart. And also, that the foundation
of religion is the belief of the one only God, and
a just sense of his attributes, as a being infinitely
wise, just, and good, to whom you owe the highest
reverence, gratitude, and adoration; who superintends
and governs all nature, even to clothing the
lilies of the field, and hearing the young ravens when
they cry; but more particularly regards man, whom
he created after his own image, and breathed into
him an immortal spirit, capable of a happiness beyond
the grave; for the attainment of which he is
bound to the performance of certain duties, which all
tend to the happiness and welfare of society, and are
comprised in one short sentence, expressive of universal
benevolence, "Thou shalt love thy neighbour

as thyself." This is elegantly defined by Mr. Pope,
in his "Essay on Man."

Thus has the Supreme Being made the good will
of man towards his fellow-creatures an evidence of
his regard to Him, and for this purpose has constituted
him a dependent being and made his happiness
to consist in society. Man early discovered this propensity
of his nature, and found

Justice, humanity, and benevolence are the duties
you owe to society in general. To your country
the same duties are incumbent upon you, with the
additional obligation of sacrificing ease, pleasure,
wealth, and life itself for its defence and security.
To your parents you owe love, reverence, and obedience
to all just and equitable commands. To yourself,
—here, indeed, is a wide field to expatiate upon.
To became what you ought to be, and what a fond
mother wishes to see you, attend some precepts
and instructions from the pen of one, who can have
no motive but your welfare and happiness, and who
wishes in this way to supply to you the personal
watchfulness and care, which a separation from you
deprived you of at a period of life, when habits are

easiest, acquired and fixed; and, though the advice
may not be new, yet suffer it to obtain a place in your
memory, for occasions may offer, and perhaps some
concurring circumstances unite, to give it weight and
force.

Suffer me to recommend to you one of the most
useful lessons, of life, the knowledge and study of
yourself. There you run the greatest hazard of
being deceived. Self-love and partiality cast a mist
before the eyes, and there is no knowledge so hard
to be acquired, nor of more benefit when once
thoroughly understood. Ungoverned passions have
aptly been compared to the boisterous ocean, which
is known to produce the most terrible effects. "Passions
are the elements of life," but elements which
are subject to the control of reason. Whoever will
candidly examine themselves, will find some degree
of passion, peevishness, or obstinacy in their natural
tempers. You will seldom find these disagreeable
ingredients all united in one; but the uncontrolled indulgence
of cither is sufficient to render the possessor
unhappy in himself, and disagreeable to all who
are so unhappy as to be witnesses of it, or suffer
from its effects.

You, my dear son, are formed with a constitution
feelingly alive; your passions are strong and impetuous;
and, though I have sometimes seen them hurry
you into excesses, yet with pleasure I have observed
a frankness and generosity accompany your
efforts to govern and subdue them. Few persons
are so subject to passion, but that they can command

themselves, when they have a motive sufficiently
strong; and those who are most apt to transgress
will restrain themselves through respect and
reverence to superiors, and even, where they wish
to recommend themselves, to their equals. The due
government of the passions, has been considered in
all ages as a most valuable acquisition. Hence an
inspired writer observes, "He that is slow to anger,
is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his
spirit, than he that taketh a city," This passion,
coöperating with power, and unrestrained by reason,
has produced the subversion of cities, the desolation
of countries, the massacre of nations, and filled
the world with injustice and oppression. Behold
your own country, your native land, suffering from
the effects of lawless power and malignant passions,
and learn betimes, from your own observation and
experience, to govern and control yourself. Having
once obtained this self-government, you will find a
foundation laid for happiness to yourself and usefulness
to mankind. "Virtue alone is happiness
below;" and consists in cultivating and improving
every good inclination, and in checking and subduing
every propensity to evil. I have been particular
upon the passion of anger, as it is generally the
most predominant passion at your age, the soonest
excited, and the least pains are taken to subdue it;

—"what composes man, can man destroy."

I do not mean, however, to have you insensible to
real injuries. He who will not turn when he is

trodden upon is deficient in point of spirit; yet, if
you can preserve good breeding and decency of
manners, you will have an advantage over the aggressor,
and will maintain a dignity of character,
which will always insure you respect, even from the
offender.

I will not overburden your mind at this time. I
mean to pursue the subject of self-knowledge in
some future letter, and give you my sentiments
upon your future conduct in life, when I feel disposed
to resume my pen.

In the mean time, be assured, no one is more
sincerely interested in your happiness, than your
ever affectionate mother,