Philadelphia, 16 June, 1776.
Yesterday was to me a lucky day, as it brought me two letters from you.
One dated May 27, and the other June 3d. Don't be concerned about me,
if it happens now and then that you don't hear from me for some weeks
together. If anything should injure my health materially, you will soon
hear of it. But I thank God I am in much better health than I expected
to be. But this cannot last long under the load that I carry. When it
becomes too great for my strength, I shall ask leave to lay it down, and
come home. But I will hold it out a good while yet, if I can.
I wish our uncle[145] had as much ambition as he has virtue and ability.
A deficiency of ambition is as criminal and injurious as an excess of
it. Tell him I say so. How shall we contrive to make so wise and good a
man ambitious? Is it not a sin to be so modest? Ask him how he can
answer it? Thanks for your quotation from Sully. It is extremely
apropos. I am very glad you are so well provided with help. Give my
respects to Mr. Belcher and his family. Tell him I am obliged to him for
his kind care of the farm. I wish I could go out with him and see the
business go on, but I can't. Thank your father and my mother for their
kind remembrance of me. Return my duty to both. Charles's young heroism
charms me. Kiss him. Poor Mugford, yet glorious Mugford! How beautiful
and sublime it is to die for one's country! What a fragrant memory
remains.
The rumor you heard of General Gates will prove premature. I endeavored
both here and with the General to have it so, and should have succeeded,
if it had not been for the loss of General Thomas. Cruel small-pox!
worse than the sword! But now, I fear we must part with Gates for the
sake of Canada. Mrs. Montgomery is a lady, like all the family, of
refined sentiments and elegant accomplishments. Her letter, as you quote
it, is very pathetic. I rejoice to hear that the enemy have not
fortified, and hope they will not be suffered to attempt it.
Don't think about my clothes. I do well enough in that respect. As to
your house at Boston, do with it as you please. Sell it, if you will,
but not for a farthing less than it cost me. Let it, if you please, but
take care who your tenant is, both of his prudence to preserve the house
and his ability to pay the rent.
I send you all the news in the papers. Great things are on the tapis.
These throes will usher in the birth of a fine boy. We have no thoughts
of removing from hence. There is no occasion for it.