University of Virginia Library

TO JOHN ADAMS.

I have waited with great patience, restraining, as
much as possible, every anxious idea for three
months. But now every vessel which arrives sets
my expectation upon the wing, and I pray my guardian
genius to waft me the happy tidings of your safety
and welfare. Hitherto my wandering ideas have
roved, like the son of Ulysses, from sea to sea, and
from shore to shore, not knowing where to find you;
sometimes I fancied you upon the mighty waters,—
sometimes at your desired haven,—sometimes upon
the ungrateful and hostile shore of Britain,—but at
all times, and in all places, under the protecting care
and guardianship of that Being, who not only clothes
the lilies of the field, and hears the young ravens
when they cry, but hath said, "Of how much more
worth are ye than many sparrows;" and this confidence,
which the world cannot deprive me of, is
my food by day, and my rest by night, and was all
my consolation under the horrid ideas of assassination,
—the only event of which I had not thought,
and, in some measure, prepared my mind.

When my imagination sets you down upon the
Gallic shore, a land to which Americans are now
bound to transfer their affections, and to eradicate
all those national prejudices, which the proud and
haughty nation, whom we once revered, craftily instilled

into us, whom they once styled their children,
I anticipate the pleasure you must feel, and, though
so many leagues distant, share in the joy of finding
the great interest of our country so generously espoused
and nobly aided by so powerful a monarch.
Your prospects must be much brightened; for, when
you left your native land, they were rather gloomy
If an unwearied zeal and persevering attachment to
the cause of truth and justice, regardless of the allurements
of ambition on the one hand, or the threats
of calamity on the other, can entitle any one to the
reward of peace, liberty, and safety, a large portion
of those blessings are reserved for my friend in his
native land.

Difficultas the day is, cruel as this war has been,
separated as I am, on account of it, from the dearest
connexion in life, I would not exchange my country
for the wealth of the Indies, or be any other tlian an
American, though I might be queen or empress of
any nation upon the globe. My soul is unambitious
of pomp or power. Beneath my humble roof, blessed
with the society and tenderest affection of my
dear partner, I have enjoyed as much felicity and as
exquisite happiness, as falls to the share of mortals.

And, though I have been called to sacrifice to my
country, I can glory in my sacrifice and derive pleasure
from my intimate connexion with one, who is
esteemed worthy of the important trust devolved
upon him.

Britain, as usual, has added insult to injustice and
cruelty, by what she calls a conciliatory plan. From
my soul I despise her meanness; but she has long
ago lost that treasure, which, a great authority tells
us, exalteth a nation, and is receiving the reproaches
due to her crimes. I have been much gratified with
the perusal of the Duke of Richmond's speech.
Were there ten such men to be found, I should still
have some hopes, that a revolution would take place
in favor of the virtuous few, "and the laws, the
rights, the generous plan of power delivered down
from age to age by our renowned forefathers," be
again restored to that unhappy island.

Our public finances are upon no better footing
than they were when you left us. Five hundred dollars
is now offered by this town, per man, for nine
months, to recruit the army. Twelve pounds a month
for farming labor is the price, and it is not to be
procured under. Our friends are all well and desire
to be remembered to you. So many tender sentiments
rush upon my mind, when about to close this
letter to you, that I can only ask you to measure
them by those which you find in your own bosom for