Colonel Warren returned last week to Plymouth, so that I shall not hear
anything from you until he goes back again, which will not be till the
last of this month. He damped my spirits greatly by telling me that the
Court[117] had prolonged your stay another month. I was pleasing myself
with the thought that you would soon be upon your return. It is in vain
to repine. I hope the public will reap what I sacrifice.
I wish I knew what mighty things were fabricating. If a form of
government is to be established here, what one will be assumed? Will it
be left to our Assemblies to choose one? And will not many men have many
minds? And shall we not run into dissensions among ourselves?
I am more and more convinced that man is a dangerous creature; and that
power, whether vested in many or a few, is ever grasping, and, like the
grave, cries, "Give, give!" The great fish swallow up the small; and he
who is most strenuous for the rights of the people, when vested with
power, is as eager after the prerogatives of government. You tell me of
degrees of perfection to which human nature is capable of arriving, and
I believe it, but at the same time lament that our admiration should
arise from the scarcity of the instances.
The building up a great empire, which was only hinted at by my
correspondent, may now, I suppose, be realized even by the unbelievers.
Yet, will not ten thousand difficulties arise in the formation of it?
The reins of government have been so long slackened, that I fear the
people will not quietly submit to those restraints which are necessary
for the peace and security of the community. If we separate from
Britain, what code of laws will be established? How shall we be governed
so as to retain our liberties? Can any government be free which is not
administered by general stated laws? Who shall frame these laws? Who
will give them force and energy? It is true, your resolutions, as a
body, have hitherto had the force of laws; but will they continue to
have?
When I consider these things, and the prejudices of people in favor of
ancient customs and regulations, I feel anxious for the fate of our
monarchy, or democracy, or whatever is to take place. I soon get lost in
a labyrinth of perplexities; but, whatever occurs, may justice and
righteousness be the stability of our times, and order arise out of
confusion. Great difficulties may be surmounted by patience and
perseverance.
I believe I have tired you with politics. As to news, we have not any at
all. I shudder at the approach of winter, when I think I am to remain
desolate.
I must bid you good night; 't is late for me, who am much of an invalid.
I was disappointed last week in receiving a packet by the post, and,
upon unsealing it, finding only four newspapers. I think you are more
cautious than you need be. All letters, I believe, have come safe to
hand. I have sixteen from you, and wish I had as many more. Adieu.
Yours.