I take my pen and write just as I can get time; my letters will be a
strange mixture. I really am "cumbered about many things," and scarcely
know which way to turn myself. I miss my partner, and find myself
unequal to the cares which fall upon me. I find it necessary to be the
directress of our husbandry. I hope in time to have the reputation of
being as a good a _farmeress_ as my partner has of being a good
statesman. To ask you anything about your return would, I suppose, be
asking a question which you cannot answer.
Retirement, rural quiet domestic pleasures, all, all must give place to
the weighty cares of state. It would be--
"Meanly poor in solitude to hide
An honest zeal, unwarped by party rage."
"Though certain pains attend the cares of state,
A good man owes his country to be great,
Should act abroad the high distinguished part,
And show, at least, the purpose of his heart."
I hope your Prussian General[132] will answer the high character which
is given of him. But we, who have been bred in a land of liberty,
scarcely know how to give credit to so unjust and arbitrary a mandate of
a despot. To cast off a faithful servant, only for being the unhappy
bearer of ill news, degrades the man and dishonors the prince. The
Congress, by employing him, have shown a liberality of sentiment not
confined to colonies or continents, but, to use the words of "Common
Sense," have "carried their friendship on a larger scale, by claiming
brotherhood with every European Christian, and may justly triumph in the
generosity of the sentiment."
Yesterday, was taken and carried into Cohasset, by three whaleboats,
which went from the shore on purpose, a snow from the Grenadas, laden
with three hundred and fifty-four puncheons of West India rum,
forty-three barrels of sugar, twelve thousand and five hundred-weight of
coffee; a valuable prize. A number of Eastern sloops have brought wood
into town since the fleet sailed. We have a rumor of Admiral Hopkins
being engaged with a number of ships and tenders off Rhode Island, and
are anxious to know the event.
Be so good as to send me a list of the vessels which sail with Hopkins,
their names, weight of metal, and number of men; all the news you know,
etc.
I hear our jurors refuse to serve, because the writs are issued in the
King's name. Surely they are for independence.
Write me how you do this winter. I want to say many things I must omit.
It is not fit "to wake the soul by tender strokes of art," or to
ruminate upon happiness we might enjoy, lest absence become intolerable.
Adieu.
Yours.