Dearest of Friends,--Shall I tell my dearest that tears of joy filled my
eyes this morning at the sight of his well-known hand?--the first line
which has blessed my sight since his four months' absence, during which
time I have never been able to learn a word from him or my dear son,
till, about ten days ago, an English paper, taken in a prize and brought
into Salem, contained an account, under the Paris news, of your arrival
at the abode of Dr. Franklin; and last week a cartel from Halifax
brought Captain Welch, of the _Boston_, who informed that he left you
well the 11th of March, and that he had letters for me, but destroyed
them when he was taken; and this is all the information I have ever been
able to obtain. Our enemies have told us the vessel was taken, and named
the frigate which took her, and that she was carried into Plymouth. I
have lived a life of fear and anxiety ever since you left me. Not more
than a week after your absence the horrid story of Dr. Franklin's
assassination was received from France, and sent by Mr. Purviance, of
Baltimore, to Congress and to Boston. Near two months before that was
contradicted. Then we could not hear a word from the _Boston_, and most
people gave her up as taken or lost. Thus has my mind been agitated like
a troubled sea.
You will easily conceive how grateful your favor of April 25th, and
those of our son, were to me and mine; though I regret your short
warning, and the little time you had to write, by which means I know not
how you fared upon your voyage, what reception you have met with (not
even from the ladies, though you profess yourself an admirer of them),
and a thousand circumstances which I wish to know, and which are always
particularly interesting to near connections. I must request you always
to be minute and to write me by every conveyance. Some, perhaps, which
may appear unlikely to reach me, will be the first to arrive. I own I
was mortified at so short a letter, but I quiet my heart with thinking
there are many more upon their passage to me. I have written several
before this, and some of them very long.
Now I know you are safe, I wish myself with you. Whenever you entertain
such a wish, recollect that I would have willingly hazarded all dangers
to have been your companion; but, as that was not permitted, you must
console me in your absence by a recital of all your adventures; though,
methinks, I would not have them in all respects too similar to those
related of your venerable colleague, whose Mentor-like appearance, age,
and philosophy most certainly lead the politico-scientific ladies of
France to suppose they are embracing the god of wisdom in a human form;
but I, who own that I never yet "wished an angel, whom I loved a man,"
shall be full as content if those divine honors are omitted. The whole
heart of my friend is in the bosom of his partner. More than half a
score of years have so riveted it there that the fabric which contains
it must crumble into dust ere the particles can be separated. I can hear
of the brilliant accomplishments of any of my sex with pleasure, and
rejoice in that liberality of sentiment which acknowledges them. At the
same time, I regret the trifling, narrow, contracted education of the
females of my own country. I have entertained a superior opinion of the
accomplishments of the French ladies, ever since I read the letters of
Dr. Shebbeare, who professes that he had rather take the opinion of an
accomplished lady, in matters of polite writing, than the first wits of
Italy; and should think himself safer with her approbation than with
that of a long list of literati; and he gives this reason for it, that
women have, in general, more delicate sensations than men; what touches
them is for the most part true in nature, whereas men, warped by
education, judge amiss from previous prejudice, and, referring all
things to the mode of the ancients, condemn that by comparison, where no
true similitude ought to be expected.
But, in this country, you need not be told how much female education is
neglected, nor how fashionable it has been to ridicule female learning;
though I acknowledge it my happiness to be connected with a person of a
more generous mind and liberal sentiments. I cannot forbear transcribing
a few generous sentiments which I lately met with upon this subject.
"If women," says the writer, "are to be esteemed our enemies, methinks
it is an ignoble cowardice, thus to disarm them, and not allow them the
same weapons we use ourselves; but if they deserve the title of our
friends, 't is an inhuman tyranny to debar them of the privileges of
ingenuous education, which would also render their friendship so much
the more delightful to themselves and us. Nature is seldom observed to
be niggardly of her choicest gifts to the sex. Their senses are
generally as quick as ours, their reason as nervous, their judgment as
mature and solid. To these natural perfections add but the advantages of
acquired learning, what polite and charming creatures would they prove;
whilst their external beauty does the office of a crystal to the lamp,
not shrouding, but disclosing, their brighter intellects. Nor need we
fear to lose our empire over them by thus improving their native
abilities; since, where there is most learning, sense, and knowledge,
there is always observed to be the most modesty and rectitude of
manners."[191]