Philadelphia, 10 October, 1775.
I am much concerned lest you should feel an addition to your anxieties,
from your having so seldom heard from me. But I pray you to dismiss all
concern about me. I am happier far than I was before the adjournment. My
health is better, and business and conversation are much more to my
taste.
The surprising intelligence we have in private letters concerning the
Director of the Hospital,[104] has made me more cautious of writing than
ever. I must be excused from writing a syllable of anything of any
moment. My letters have been and will be nothing but trifles. I don't
choose to trust the post. I am afraid to trust private travellers. They
may peep. Accidents may happen. And I would avoid, if I could, even
ridicule, but especially mischief.
Pray, bundle up every paper, not already hid, and conceal them in
impenetrable darkness. Nobody knows what may occur.
My love to those who are dearest to us both. Send yours to the care of
the gentleman whose care has hitherto been successful. Date them in time
but not place, and assume a new fictitious name.