May the time, the happy time, soon arrive when we may realize these blessings, so elegantly described by Thomson; for, though many of our countrymen talk in a different style with regard to their intentions, and express their wishes to see you in a conspicuous point of view in your own State, I feel no ambition for a share of it. I know the voice of fame to be a mere weather-cock, unstable as water and fleeting as a shadow. Yet I have pride; I know I have a large portion of it.
I very fortunately received, by the Apollo, by the Juno, and by the Minerva, the things you sent me, all in good order. They will enable me to do, I hope, without drawing upon you, provided I can part with them; but money is so scarce and taxes so high that few purchasers are found. Goods will not double, yet they are better than drawing bills, as these cannot be sold but with a large discount. I could not get more than ninety for a hundred dollars, should I attempt it.
I shall inclose an invoice to the house of Ingraham and Bromfield, and one to De Neufville. There is nothing from Bilbao that can be imported to advantage. Handkerchiefs are sold here at seven dollars and a half per dozen. There are some articles which would be advantageous from Holland, but goods there run high, and the retailing vendues, which are tolerated here, ruin the shopkeepers. The articles put up by the American house were better in quality for the price than those by the house of De Neufville. Small articles have the best profit; gauze, ribbons, feathers, and flowers, to make the ladies gay, have the best advance. There are some articles, which come from India, I should suppose would be lower-priced than many others,—Bengals, nankeens, Persian silk, and bandanna handkerchiefs; but the house of Bromfield know best what articles will suit here. I have been fortunate and unfortunate. The things which came with Jones remain at Philadelphia yet.
Our friends here are all well. Your mother is in rather better health, and my father is yet sprightly. Believe me, with more affection than words can express, ever, ever yours,
Portia.
276. John Adams.
Amsterdam, 18 December, 1781.
My dearest Friend,—I have letters from Mr. Dana and his young attendant[212] at St. Petersburg. Both well and in good spirits. Letters to Mrs. Dana and to you go by Captain Trowbridge and by Dr. Dexter. I have no certain news as yet of Charles's sailing from Bilbao, but I presume he is sailed. You will have suffered great anxiety on his account, but I pray he may arrive safe. I acted for the best when I consented he should go with Gillon, little expecting that he would be landed in Spain again. Keep him to his studies, and send him to college, where I wish his brother John was.
My health is feeble, but better than it was. I am busy enough, yet not to much perceptible purpose as yet. There is no prospect at all of peace. Let our people take care of their trade and privateers next year. They have not much of a land war to fear. General Washington has struck the most sublime stroke of all in that article of the capitulation which reserves the Tories for trial by their peers. This has struck Toryism dumb and dead. I expect that all the rancor of the refugees will be poured out upon Cornwallis for it. Our enemies now really stand in a ridiculous light. They feel it, but cannot take the resolution to be wise. The Romans never saw but one Caudine Forks in their whole history. Americans have shown the Britons two in one war. But they must do more. Remember, you never will have peace while the Britons have a company of soldiers at liberty within the United States. New York must be taken, or you will never have peace. All in good time.