Philadelphia, 17 September, 1775.
This is the first time that I have attempted to write since I left you.
I arrived here in good health, after an agreeable journey, last
Wednesday. There had not been members enough to make a House, several
colonies being absent, so that I was just in time. The next day an
adequate number appeared, and Congress has sat ever since. Georgia is
now fully represented, and united to the other twelve. Their delegates
are Doctor Zubly, a clergyman of the Independent persuasion, who has a
parish in that colony, and a good deal of property. He is a native of
Switzerland; is a man of learning and ingenuity. It is said he is master
of several languages--Greek, Latin, French, Dutch, and English; in the
latter it is said he writes tolerably. He is a man of zeal and spirit,
as we have already seen upon several occasions. However, as he is the
first gentleman of the cloth who has appeared in Congress, I cannot but
wish he may be the last. Mixing the sacred character with that of the
statesman, as it is quite unnecessary at this time of day, in these
colonies, is not attended with any good effects. The clergy are
universally too little acquainted with the world and the modes of
business, to engage in civil affairs with any advantage. Besides, those
of them who are really men of learning, have conversed with books so
much more than men as to be too much loaded with vanity to be good
politicians. Mr. Bullock is another of the Georgia delegates--a sensible
man--a planter, I suppose. Mr. Houston is the third, a young lawyer, of
modesty as well as sense and spirit, which you will say is uncommon.
Mr. Jones and Doctor Hall are not yet arrived.
Mr. Henry is made a General in Virginia, and therefore could not come.
Mr. Pendleton and Colonel Bland excused themselves on account of age and
ill-health. Messrs. Nelson, Wythe, and Lee are chosen, and are here in
the stead of the other three. Wythe and Lee are inoculated. You shall
hear more about them. Although they come in the room of very good men,
we have lost nothing by the change, I believe. Remember me in the
tenderest language to all our little folks. I am yours.