Braintree, 16 October, 1774.
My much loved friend,--I dare not express to you, at three hundred
miles' distance, how ardently I long for your return. I have some very
miserly wishes, and cannot consent to your spending one hour in town,
till, at least, I have had you twelve. The idea plays about my heart,
unnerves my hand, whilst I write; awakens all the tender sentiments that
years have increased and matured, and which, when with me, every day was
dispensing to you. The whole collected stock of ten weeks' absence knows
not how to brook any longer restraint, but will break forth and flow
through my pen. May the like sensations enter thy breast, and (spite of
all the weighty cares of state) mingle themselves with those I wish to
communicate; for, in giving them utterance, I have felt more sincere
pleasure than I have known since the 10th of August.[60] Many have been
the anxious hours I have spent since that day; the threatening aspect of
our public affairs, the complicated distress of this province, the
arduous and perplexed business in which you are engaged, have all
conspired to agitate my bosom with fears and apprehensions to which I
have heretofore been a stranger; and, far from thinking the scene
closed, it looks as though the curtain was but just drawn, and only the
first scene of the infernal plot disclosed. And whether the end will be
tragical, Heaven alone knows. You cannot be, I know, nor do I wish to
see you, an inactive spectator; but if the sword be drawn, I bid adieu
to all domestic felicity, and look forward to that country where there
are neither wars nor rumors of war, in a firm belief, that through the
mercy of its King we shall both rejoice there together.
I greatly fear that the arm of treachery and violence is lifted over
us, as a scourge and heavy punishment from Heaven for our numerous
offenses, and for the misimprovement of our great advantages. If we
expect to inherit the blessings of our fathers, we should return a
little more to their primitive simplicity of manners, and not sink into
inglorious ease. We have too many high-sounding words, and too few
actions that correspond with them. I have spent one Sabbath in town
since you left. I saw no difference in respect to ornament, etc.; but in
the country you must look for that virtue, of which you find but small
glimmerings in the metropolis. Indeed, they have not the advantages, nor
the resolution, to encourage our own manufactories, which people in the
country have. To the mercantile part, it is considered as throwing away
their own bread; but they must retrench their expenses, and be content
with a small share of gain, for they will find but few who will wear
their livery. As for me, I will seek wool and flax, and work willingly
with my hands; and indeed there is occasion for all our industry and
economy. You mention the removal of our books, etc., from Boston;[61] I
believe they are safe there, and it would incommode the gentlemen to
remove them, as they would not then have a place to repair to for study.
I suppose they would not choose to be at the expense of boarding out.
Mr. Williams, I believe, keeps pretty much with his mother. Mr. Hill's
father had some thoughts of removing up to Braintree, provided he could
be accommodated with a house, which he finds very difficult.
Mr. Cranch's last determination was to tarry in town unless anything new
takes place. His friends in town oppose his removal so much that he is
determined to stay. The opinion you have entertained of General Gage is,
I believe, just. Indeed, he professes to act only upon the defensive.
The people in the country begin to be very anxious for the Congress to
rise; they have no idea of the weighty business you have to transact,
and their blood boils with indignation at the hostile preparations they
are constant witnesses of. Mr. Quincy's so secret departure is matter
of various speculation; some say he is deputed by the Congress, others
that he is gone to Holland, and the Tories say he is gone to be
hanged.[62]
I rejoice at the favorable account you give me of your health. May it be
continued to you. My health is much better than it was last fall; some
folks say I grow very fat. I venture to write almost anything in this
letter, because I know the care of the bearer. He will be most sadly
disappointed if you should be broken up before he arrives, as he is very
desirous of being introduced by you to a number of gentlemen of
respectable character. I almost envy him, that he should see you before
I can. Mr. Thaxter and Mr. Rice present their regards to you. Uncle
Quincy, too, sends his love to you. He is very good to call and see me,
and so have many other of my friends been. Colonel Warren[63] and lady
were here on Monday, and send their love to you. The Colonel promised to
write. Mrs. Warren will spend a day or two, on her return, with me.
Your mother sends her love to you; and all your family, too numerous to
name, desire to be remembered. You will receive letters from two who are
as earnest to write to papa as if the welfare of a kingdom depended upon
it.[64] If you can give any guess, within a month, let me know when you
think of returning.