99. Abigail Adams.
21 April, 1776.
I have to acknowledge the receipt of a very few lines dated the 12th of April. You make no mention of the whole sheets I have wrote to you, by which I judge you either never received them, or that they were so lengthy as to be troublesome; and in return you have set me an example of being very concise. I believe I shall not take the hint, but give as I love to receive. Mr. Church talked a week ago of setting off for Philadelphia. I wrote by him, but suppose it has not yet gone. You have perhaps heard that the bench is filled by Messrs. Foster and Sullivan, so that a certain person is now excluded. I own I am not of so forgiving a disposition as to wish to see him holding a place which he refused merely from a spirit of envy.
I give up my request for Chesterfield's "Letters," submitting entirely to your judgment, as I have ever found you ready to oblige me in this way whenever you thought it would contribute either to my entertainment or improvement. I was led to the request from reading the following character of him in my favorite Thomson, from some spirited and patriotic speeches of his in the reign of George II.:—
"O thou whose wisdom, solid yet refined,
Whose patient-virtues and consummate skill
To touch the finer springs that move the world,
Joined to whate'er the Graces can bestow,
And all Apollo's animating fire,
Give thee with pleasing dignity to shine
At once the guardian, ornament, and joy
Of polished life. Permit the rural muse,
O Chesterfield! to grace thee with her song,
Ere to the shades again she humbly flies;
Indulge her fond ambition, in thy train
(For every muse has in thy train a place)
To mark thy various, full accomplished mind,—
To mark that spirit which, with British scorn,
Rejects th' allurements of corrupted power;
That elegant politeness which excels,
Even in the judgment of presumptuous France,
The boasted manner of her shining court;
That wit, the vivid energy of sense,
The truth of nature, which, with Attic point,
And kind, well-tempered satire, smoothly keen,
Steals through the soul, and, without pain, corrects."
I think the speculations you inclose prove that there is full liberty of the press. Cato shows he has a bad cause to defend; whilst the Forester writes with a spirit peculiar to himself, and leads me to think that he has an intimate acquaintance with "Common Sense."
We have intelligence of the arrival of some of the Tory fleet at Halifax; that they are much distressed for want of houses,—obliged to give six dollars per month for one room; provisions scarce and dear. Some of them with six or eight children around them, sitting upon the rocks, crying, not knowing where to lay their heads.
Just Heaven has given them to taste of the same cup of affliction which they one year ago administered with such callous hearts to thousands of their fellow-citizens; but with this difference, that they fly from the injured and enraged country, whilst pity and commiseration received the sufferers whom they inhumanly drove from their dwellings.
I would fain hope that the time may not be far distant when those things you hint at may be carried into execution.
"Oh! are ye not those patriots in whose power
That best, that godlike luxury is placed
Of blessing thousands, thousands yet unborn
Thro' late posterity? Ye large of soul,
Cheer up dejected industry, and give
A double harvest to the pining swain.
Teach thou, the laboring herd the sweets of toil;
How, by the finest art, the native robe
To weave; how, white as Hyperborean snow,
To form the lucid lawn; with venturous oar
How to dash wide the billow; nor look on,
Shamefully passive, while Britannia's fleets
Defraud us of the glittering finny swarms
That hem our firths and swarm upon our shores;
How all-enlivening trade to rouse, and wing
The prosperous sail from every growing port
Uninjured round the semicircled globe."
It is rumored here that Admiral Hopkins is blocked up in Newport harbor by a number of men-of-war. If so, 't is a very unlucky circumstance. As to fortifications, those who preside in the Assembly can give you a much better account than I.
I heard yesterday that a number of gentlemen who were together at Cambridge thought it highly proper that a committee of ladies should be chosen to examine the Tory ladies, and proceeded to the choice of three—Mrs. Winthrop, Mrs. Warren, and your humble servant.
I could go on and give you a long list of domestic affairs, but they would only serve to embarrass you and noways relieve me. I hope it will not be long before things will be brought into such a train as that you may be spared to your family.
Your brother has lost his youngest child with convulsion fits. Your mother is well and always desires to be remembered to you. Nabby is sick with the mumps,—a very disagreeable disorder. You have not once told me how you do. I judge you are well, as you seem to be in good spirits. I bid you good night. All the little flock send duty, and want to see p—a.
Adieu. Shall I say, remember me as you ought?