 | Letters of Mrs. Adams, |  |
TO JOHN ADAMS.
The great distance between us makes the lime appear
very long to me. It seems already a month
since you left me. The great anxiety I feel for my
country, for you, and for our family, renders the day
tedious, and the night unpleasant. The rocks and
quicksands appear upon every side. What course
you can or will take is all wrapped in the bosom of
futurity. Uncertainty and expectation leave the
mind great scope. Did ever any kingdom or state
regain its liberty, when once it was invaded, without
bloodshed? I cannot think of it without horror.
Yet we are told, that all the misfortunes of Sparta
were occasioned by their too great solicitude for
present tranquillity, and, from an excessive love of
peace, they neglected the means of making it sure
and lasting. They ought to have reflected, says Polybius,
that, "as there is nothing more desirable or
advantageous than peace, when founded in justice
and honor, so there is nothing more shameful, and
at the same time more pernicious, when attained by
bad measures, and purchased at the price of liberty."
I have received a most charming letter from
our friend Mrs. Warren.[1]
She desires me to tell you
both as a friend and a patriot,—hopes you will
have no uncommon difficulties to surmount, or hostile
movements to impede you,—but, if the Locrians
should interrupt you, she hopes that you will beware,
that no future annals may say you chose an ambitious
Philip for your leader, who subverted the noble
order of the American Amphictyons, and built up a
monarchy on the ruins of the happy institution.
I have taken a very great fondness for reading
Rollin's Ancient History since you left me. I am
determined to go through with it, if possible, in these
my days of solitude. I find great pleasure and entertainment
from it, and I have persuaded Johnny to
read me a page or two every day, and hope he will,
from his desire to oblige me, entertain a fondness for
it. We have had a charming rain, which lasted
twelve hours, and has greatly revived the dying
fruits of the earth.
I want much to hear from you. I long impatiently
to have you upon the stage of action. The first of
September, or the month of September, perhaps, may
be of as much importance to Great Britain, as the Ides
of March were to Cæsar. I wish you every public,
as well as private blessing, and that wisdom which is
profitable both for instruction and edification, to conduct
you in this difficult day. The little flock remember
papa, and kindly wish to see him; so does
your most affectionate
| Letters of Mrs. Adams, | |