My dearest Friend,--Last evening General Lincoln called here,
introducing to me a gentleman by the name of Colonel Laurens, the son,
as I suppose, of your much esteemed friend, the late President of
Congress; who informed me that he expected to sail for France in a few
days, and would take dispatches from me. Although I closed letters to
you, by way of Holland, a few days ago, I would not omit so good an
opportunity as the present. 'T is a long time since the date of your
last letters, the 25th of September. I wait with much anxiety, listening
to the sound of every gun, but none announce the arrival of the _Fame_,
from Holland, which we greatly fear is taken or lost, or the _Mars_,
from France. Colonel Laurens is enabled, I suppose, to give you every
kind of intelligence respecting the army, which you may wish to learn.
Mr. Cranch has written you upon the same subject by way of Holland. Your
friends here complain that you do not write to them. I suppose Davis
threw over half a hundred letters. If you are unfortunate in that way,
it is not to be helped.
I have the pleasure to inform you that a repeal of the obnoxious tender
act has passed the House and Senate. The Governor, as has been
heretofore predicted, when anything not quite popular is in agitation,
has the gout, and is confined to his bed. A false weight and a false
balance are an abomination, and in that light this tender act must be
viewed by every impartial person. Who, but an idiot, would believe that
forty were equal to seventy-five? But the repeal gives us reason to hope
that justice and righteousness will again exalt our nation; that public
faith will be restored; that individuals will lend to the public; and
that the heavy taxes, which now distress all orders, will be lessened.
A late committee, who have been sitting upon ways and means for raising
money, tell us that a tax for two years more, equal to what we have paid
in the last; would clear this State of debt. You may judge of the weight
of them; yet our State taxes are but as a grain of mustard seed, when
compared with our town taxes. Clinton, I hear, has sent out a
proclamation upon Germain's plan, inviting the people to make a separate
peace, which will only be a new proof of the ignorance and folly of our
enemies, without making a single proselyte. Even the revolted
Pennsylvania troops gave up to justice the spies whom Clinton sent to
them, offering them clothing and pay, letting him know that it was
justice from their State, not favors from their enemies, which they
wanted.
It is reported that Arnold, with a body of troops, is gone to Virginia,
where it is hoped he and his Myrmidons will meet their fate. Had Clinton
been a generous enemy, or known human nature, he would, like Aurelian,
upon a like occasion, have given up the traitor to the hands of justice;
knowing that it was in vain to expect fidelity in a man who had betrayed
his own country, which, from his defection, may learn to place a higher
value upon integrity and virtue than upon a savage ferocity, so often
mistaken for courage. He who, as an individual, is cruel, unjust, and
immoral, will not be likely to possess the virtues necessary in a
general or statesman. Yet in our infant country, infidelity and
debauchery are so fashionably prevalent that less attention is paid to
the characters of those who fill important offices, than a love of
virtue and zeal for public liberty can warrant; which, we are told by
wise legislators of old, are the surest preservatives of public
happiness.
You observe in a late letter that your absence from your native State
will deprive you of an opportunity of being a man of importance in it. I
hope you are doing your country more extensive service abroad than you
could have done had you been confined to one State only; and whilst you
continue in the same estimation among your fellow-citizens in which you
are now held, you will not fail of being of importance to them at home
or abroad.
Heaven preserve the life and health of my dear absent friend, and, in
its own time, return him to his country and to the arms of his ever
affectionate