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 JOURNAL 
 
 AND 
 
 CORRESPONDPJNCE 
 
 Miss ADAMS, 
 
 DAUGHTER OF JOHN ADAMS, 
 
 of t&e Sanfteti States. 
 
 WRITTEN IN FKANCE AND ENGLAND, IN 1785. 
 
 EDITED BY HER DAUGHTER. 
 
 NEW-YORK & LONDON: 
 
 WILEY AND PUTNAM, 
 1841. 
 
E 503. 
 
 v. > 
 
 Entered according to the Act of Congress, in the year 1841, by 
 
 I. P. DE WlNDT, 
 
 Fn the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States, for the 
 Southern District of New- York. 
 
 NEW- YORK : 
 
 Hopkins & Jennings, Printers, 
 lllFulton-stieet. 
 
TO 
 
 JOHN aUINCY ADAMS, 
 
 EX-PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES. 
 
 Around their memory, dear to us all, 
 
 Doth cling remembrances 
 
 Sacred ; all powerful, 
 
 And lasting as the soul s immortality. 
 
 804110 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 THE following Journal, from which these ex 
 tracts are taken, was written at the same period 
 with the letters of Mrs. Adams, (lately published,) 
 by her only daughter, principally previous to her 
 marriage. 
 
 A few letters are added, from Mr. and Mrs. 
 Adams to their grandaughter. 
 
 The Editor being desirous to preserve the 
 Journal and Letters for her children, still more 
 so, that they should understand the extent and 
 strength of that affection with which their mother 
 was honoured by the writers, presents them with 
 a copy in print. 
 
 "This is the prerogative of the noblest natures 
 that their departure to higher regions exercises 
 a no less blessed influence than did their abode 
 on earth ; that they lighten us from above, like 
 stars by which to steer our course, often inter 
 rupted by storms ; that those to whom we turned 
 in life as the beneficent, the helpful, now attract 
 our longing, aspiring glance, as the perfected, the 
 blessed." 
 
 For the sketch of the landscape, the Editor is 
 indebted to Miss Gtuincy of Cambridge, Mass. 
 
 C. A. de W. 
 Cedar Grove, JV. Y., July, 1841. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 Introductory Remarks, vii 
 
 Introductory Letter, 3 
 
 Journal, 7 
 
 Lines addressed to a Portrait, 97 
 
 Letter from Mr. J. Q. Adams, 89 
 
 Memoir of W. S. Smith, 99 
 
 Twenty-four letters from Col. to Mrs. Smith, . . 125 
 
 Letters from John Adams to his daughter, . . 202 
 
 Letters from Mrs. Adams to her grandaughter, . . 209 
 
 Letters from John Adams to his grandaughter, . . 239 
 
 Letter from Judge Vanderkemp to Mrs. de Windt, . 243 
 
 Letter from John Adams to his grandaughter, . . 245 
 
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 ABIGAIL ADAMS, the oldest child and only surviving daugh 
 ter of John Adams, was born at Braintree, in Massachusetts, 
 14th July, 1765; she was carried to church in a chaise, 
 and baptized the day she was born, according to the custom of 
 those times. 
 
 In the early part of her life she shared the domestic duties 
 and cheered the retirement of her mother, during the years 
 of absence which the public cares of her father enforced 
 upon him. He expressed to the editor, at the age of 90, 
 while recalling and reflecting upon the events of the past, in 
 these words, his painful recollection of the separations he 
 had been called upon to endure : " At this time it seems to 
 me to have been wicked to have left such a wife and such a 
 family as I did, but it was done in the service of my country." 
 
 The daughter was cherished and beloved by an intimate 
 circle of youthful friends. Among them an early use of the 
 pen, and the pleasures of epistolary intercourse were culti 
 vated ; the young persons being in the habit of preparing 
 their letters during the week, taking them to church on Sun 
 day, and exchanging them. Two of the most intimate and 
 valued friends of Miss Adams were the daughter of the Rev. 
 Jonathan Mayhew, afterwards married to Mr. Waimvright, 
 and Miss Elizabeth Quincy, afterwards Mrs. Guild. These 
 attachments continued uninterrupted, and were a source of 
 much happiness throughout their lives. 
 
Vlll INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 At the age of eighteen Miss Adams accompanied her moth 
 er to Europe she had changed, in the years that had passed, 
 since her father had left her in America. In the journal of this 
 date she writes thus : " London, Aug. 7th, 1784. At 12, re 
 turned to our own apartments ; when I entered, I saw upon the 
 table a hat with two books in it ; every thing around appeared 
 altered, without my knowing in what particular. I went into 
 my own room, the things were moved ; I looked around 
 Has mamma received letters, that have determined her de 
 parture ] When does she go T Why are these things 
 moved V All in a breath to Esther. No, ma m, she has re- 
 cieved no letter, but goes to-morrow morning. * Why is 
 all this appearance of strangeness? Whose hat is that in 
 the other room 1 Whose trunk is this ] Whose sword 
 and cane 1 It is my father s, said I. Where is he V In 
 the room above. Up I flew, and to his chamber, where he 
 was lying down, he raised himself upon my knocking softly at 
 the door, and received me with all the tenderness of an af 
 fectionate parent after so long an absence. Sure I am, I 
 never felt more agitation of spirits in my life ; it will not do 
 to describe." 
 
 The next day commenced the journey to Paris, with which 
 the journal in the present volume opens. 
 
 At a later period, Aug. 1785, the journal states " Friday, 
 26th. Papa having invited Count Sarsefield to dine with him 
 to-day, we were obliged to refuse an invitation from Mr. and 
 Mrs. Smith, at Clapham ; the Count came, and was as usual 
 in spirits, and good company. Mr. Bartlemmy, the French 
 Charge d* Affaires was invited, and came ; he seemed to be 
 well enough in mind, manners, and appearance, civil, not 
 gallant, sociable, not talkative, modest, not forward ; he is 
 passing well. Two other gentlemen dined with us ; they 
 were young men ; and nothing passed in four hours to be 
 related here." 
 
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. IX 
 
 " Saturday 27th. A fine morning. Eugenic came to 
 breakfast. Mamma desired me to be dressed ; she was 
 going out to make some visits ; I obeyed. I seldom resist 
 commands, however my will may be for it. We went out at 
 12 ; the coachman was ordered to go to Hackney ; we were 
 to visit Mrs. J . No, it is not pride it is not vanity 
 
 tis no unworthy principle which would prevent me, had 
 I a will to follow, from making such visits, but I would make 
 no acquaintance for which I had not some good reason ; 1 
 do not love that kind of intercourse where no one affection of 
 the heart has any share ; I would treat every one with civility 
 
 lay myself under as few obligations as possible, to those 
 whom 1 could rank as friends I would always act from 
 the heart ; every attention to such 1 should esteem myself 
 gratified in paying ; but the unmeaning intercourse of a great 
 portion of mankind, I must acknowledge, I have but little 
 taste for ; perhaps 1 am wrong it is only an opinion it 
 may be founded upon wrong principles ; I am open to con 
 viction ; and whenever my sentiments change, I shall not be 
 adverse to acknowledge it. When we came into town, we 
 
 left cards at the Baroness , to return a visit made us 
 
 in the same way, and called upon my Lady Effingham, but 
 she was not at home ; returned home, dined alone ; read 
 Shakspeare after dinner. Papa purchased his works this 
 morning, upon my saying I had never read them. I discover 
 a thousand traits of softness, delicacy, and sensibility in this 
 excellent man s character. I was once taught to fear his 
 virtues ; happy am I that I find them rather to love, grown 
 up into life unknown to him, and ignorant of him. I had been 
 taught to think him severe, and as he would demand my obe 
 dience, I found him far otherwise ; he never demanded of me 
 even an acquiescence to his wishes, but left me to follow my 
 own, in the most important concerns of life. How amiable 
 how respectable how worthy of every token of my atten- 
 
X INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 tion, has this conduct rendered a parent a father to whom 
 we feel due even a resignation of our opinions ! How many 
 are there who usurp the power Nature has given them a 
 right to use, and who act rather as tyrants over their families 
 than as parents of their children ; how much is the want of 
 this gentleness, delicacy, and sensibility observed in that 
 sex, whose worth and amiability of character depends upon 
 the possession of it. How many ladies, within my knowledge, 
 who do not possess one iota of either ; but, adieu to the sub 
 ject." 
 
 " To-day, agreeably to invitation, we went to dine with 
 Dr. Jebb ; our company was not large, and no ladies but 
 mamma and myself. Had I never seen Mrs. Jebb, I believe 
 I should have said upon entering the door, the lady of this 
 house is a politicianess, or something else there was an air 
 through the whole that I thought discovered it. The com 
 pany were all there when we went. Dr. Brokelsly, a moderate 
 Englishman, is said to be a sensible man, great in his pro 
 fession, and learned. A Mr. Ashley, a violent, prejudiced 
 Englishman, no enemy to America I should suppose, but 
 entirely ignorant of the arrangements there during the late 
 war, as indeed every person here seems to be ; whether it 
 has been the policy of people in power to preserve this ignor 
 ance I do not know, but they all attribute the want of suc 
 cess to their generals. If Sir William Howe had done so 
 and so, you would never have gained your independence. I 
 never pretend to understand politics, but I cannot but smile 
 to hear these people talk ; it appears to me they judge with 
 out foundation, and give their opinions through ignorance. 
 This gentleman was also a most violent enemy to the French ; 
 he could bear to see America rising, but he could not sub 
 mit to see that nation at peace ; he was sometimes so violent 
 that I did not know where it would end. Papa endeavoured 
 to be silent, but sometimes he would get warmed, and who 
 
INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. XI 
 
 could avoid it, to hear so much ignorance and error asserted 
 as truth?" 
 
 1785. " The thread has broke, and I have to begin again ; 
 it is in vain attempting to join it where I last left it, for I find 
 it impossible. Some events have taken place respecting 
 myself, in which, perhaps, my future happiness may be in 
 terested; I have one consolation, the perfect rectitude of my 
 intentions. To that Being, under whose guidance I would 
 fain believe all our actions to be, I must submit, and leave 
 the events ; Heaven grant they may prove propitious to my 
 happiness and peace." 
 
 At this period Miss Adams married Colonel Smith, who 
 was the Secretary to the American Legation, at London. 
 Here we must refer again to the journal. "June, 1787. 
 The afternoon being very fine, mamma and myself rode to 
 Kensington Gardens, and took a long walk ; it was more like 
 an American day than any I recollect in this country ; the 
 presence of my friend was only wanting to have rendered it 
 perfectly pleasing ; his society has enlivened every scene for 
 the last twelve months ; cheerfulness and good humour he has 
 ever promoted, and it is always accompanied with strict pro 
 priety, delicacy, and purity of actions and manners ; it is, in 
 short, all that my fondest wishes could paint, as lovely and 
 engaging ; the more I reflect upon it the more I am satis 
 fied, and the more I am induced to regret this temporary 
 separation, which is the first, and from my heart I hope it 
 may be the last I shall ever have to regret." 
 
 After returning and residing a few years in America, they 
 revisited Europe ; upon their return, passed some years in 
 the city of New- York. 
 
 Mrs. Smith died at Quincy, 14th August, 1813, at the age 
 of 48. She expressed her gratitude that she had been per 
 mitted to close her days in the mansion of her father, sur 
 rounded by her venerable parents, her husband, children, and 
 dearest relatives. 
 
Xii INTRODUCTORY REMARKS. 
 
 " She possessed a mind firm, cultivated, and delicate ; a 
 temper gentle and sweet; a spirit composed in difficulty, pa 
 tient in suffering, humble in prosperity, cheerful in adversity ; 
 a demeanour chastened and regulated by clear perceptions of 
 duly and a high sense of propriety. As a child, exemplary for 
 filial reverence ; as a wife, for conjugal tenderness ; as a moth 
 er, for parental affection. Forgetful of herself, and studious of 
 the happiness of others, it was the effort of her being to 
 please and to support, to comfort and to bless. Her death, 
 in unison with such a life, was full of resignation and hope."* 
 
 Among various consolatory letters addressed to Mr. and 
 Mrs. Adams upon the death of their daughter, the following 
 extract comprises all that need be said. 
 
 " If such are my feelings for a child cut off before the 
 day-star of intelligence could have arisen to announce the 
 dawn of reason in her soul, what must be those of a mother 
 for one, in whom the mind was at its highest noon, clear as 
 the day, and unsullied as the light of heaven 1" 
 
 ;< Her days were short, and checkered o er 
 With joy and sorrow s mingled store, 
 
 And fortune s treacherous game 
 But never since Creation s hour, 
 Sent forth from Heaven s almighty power, 
 
 A purer spirit came !"f 
 
 * From an obituary notice by President Quincy. 
 t Extract from a letter of Mr. J. Q. Adams. 
 
JOURNAL AND LETTERS. 
 
INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 
 
 The Hague, 17 July, 1784. 
 MY DEAR DAUGHTEB: 
 
 WITH the tenderest emotions of a father s heart, 
 I congratulate you on your agreeable voyage, and 
 happy arrival ; and hope that your journeys in 
 Europe, and your returning voyage to your own 
 country, will be equally prosperous. 
 
 At your age, travels are pleasing and instruc 
 tive. But that you may be able to derive the full 
 benefit from them, let me recommend to you to 
 keep a journal. 
 
 I have never had influence enough with your 
 brother to prevail upon him to attend to this exer 
 cise, as pleasant as it is useful. But the punish 
 ment of this negligence is certain ; if he lives 
 sixty years, he will spend them all in continual 
 repentance, and self-reproaches. A regular jour 
 nal of his travels would be very valuable. 
 
4 INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 
 
 I cannot reproach myself, because my eyes 
 have made it impracticable. With the utmost 
 difficulty have I performed the writing, which 
 my public duty required of me : and I may add, 
 that my head and heart have been so occupied 
 with necessary business, that objects of curiosity, 
 and even the -fine arts, had few attractions for 
 une. , / ". :: ; 
 
 Your case and 4 -that of your brother are very 
 : &J9pflBiik: ..Ju* travel ling with me, through the 
 butch and Austrian Low Countries to France, 
 you will have a great opportunity. 
 
 In London you see one of those enormous 
 masses of human nature, which exhibit to view 
 its utmost extremes of grandeur and littleness, of 
 virtues and vices, of wisdom and folly. In Paris 
 you will see another ; and all along between 
 them, are countries and cities which will deserve 
 your attention. 
 
 I need not say to you, that the end of travel, as 
 well as study, is not the simple gratification of 
 curiosity, or to enable one to shine in conversa 
 tion, but to make us wiser and better. 
 
 The British Museum, Sir Ashton Lever s 
 Museum, Wedgwood s Manufactory of Earthen 
 Ware, Parker s Manufactory of Glass, I saw with 
 great pleasure. You cannot see Mrs. Siddons, as 
 she is absent. Westminster Abbey, and St. Paul s 
 Church you should see. 
 
INTRODUCTORY LETTER. 5 
 
 But I presume you will not be long in England 
 after your brother s arrival. 
 
 Hasten, my dear girl, as much as you can with 
 prudence, to your affectionate father, 
 
 JOHN ADAMS. 
 Miss A. ADAMS, 
 
 London. 
 
 1* 
 
JOURNAL. 
 
 London, Adelphi Hotel, 1784. 
 
 WE are impatiently awaiting the arrival of let 
 ters to determine our course, whether to France 
 or the Hague. 
 
 August 8th. After two hour s preparation, papa, 
 mamma, myself and brother, in our own car 
 riage, H. and B. our two servants, sat out from 
 the Adelphi Hotel, so wretchedly equipped with 
 horses, that they could carry us no farther than 
 Westminster bridge; here they refused to go, and 
 the resolution of the post-boys was exerted to no 
 purpose ; they were obliged to obtain others : at 
 Deal we made our last change of horses, turned 
 into the road to Dover where we arrived at 2 
 o clock. The road from Canterbury to Dover is 
 very mountainous and the poorest I have seen in 
 the country ; the appearance of cultivation is 
 much the same as in other spots ; there is a rich 
 ness and elegance in the landscape that is very 
 
8 JOURNAL. 
 
 beautiful. At 3 we went on board the boat for 
 Deal; we landed at 6 the next morning we had 
 some servants from every public house, or every 
 master with offers of accommodation. We came 
 to Monsieur Destaing s Hotel, the very place made 
 famous by Yorick ; in this yard he wrote his pre 
 face to his journey, and perhaps in one of these 
 
 disobligeants, he met Madame De , and here 
 
 is the very Monk, that gave his benediction to 
 our writer, and who has just passed my window to 
 present himself to papa. I do not think he is 
 quite so respectable a figure, as the one that ac 
 costed Yorick. At 12 we dined ; we had a va 
 riety, but not in a style so agreeable to me as the 
 English. At two, we set off from Monsieur Des 
 taing s Hotel, on a journey of two hundred miles. 
 The laws of this country are such as oblige every 
 person who travels in a coach, to make use of six 
 horses. We were equipped with six horses for 
 our carriage, and a cabriolet with three horses, 
 for our two servants. The harness is not supe 
 rior in any respect, to what we use in America for 
 our carts and ploughs ; however, it is such as 
 every person travels with, and there is no better. 
 I have not learnt the why and the wherefore, that 
 we travel in this way. and exchange horses at 
 every post, which is a distance of six miles, or 
 sometimes a post and a half, or two post at a time. 
 On Tuesday we travelled four posts after dinner, 
 
JOURNAL. 9 
 
 and lodged at Boulogne, a small village, the Inn 
 kept by an English family. The house was not as 
 much Anglaise as I could have wished. There is 
 certainly a great difference in favour of Eng 
 land ; the country is by no means equal to it ; the 
 soil does not appear so rich and luxuriant, or so well 
 cultivated ; the villages are the most wretched of 
 all the habitations of man ; it is not one time in 
 ten that I have seen a glass window, nothing but 
 wood. We dined in our carriage ; mamma and 
 myself were not out of it from six in the morn 
 ing, until four in the afternoon. 
 
 The country is much varied ; in some places 
 you see a great appearance of cultivation and im 
 provement, in others you have a fine prospect of 
 the country around, and some very fine scenes 
 of natural beauty ; in others, it appears like a bar 
 ren uncultivated spot. There is the appearance 
 of more industry here than in England, by the 
 flocks of men, women and children that are out 
 in the fields at their labours ; whole families, 
 whole towns, I should suppose by their numbers, 
 some reaping and gathering in the fruits of the 
 year, while others were preparing the ground, 
 sowing the seed for a future crop. The country 
 bears to-day a more pleasing aspect than yester 
 day ; the villages are by no means superior, such 
 places I never saw before, or the like unto them. 
 The streets are very narrow and dirty, the houses 
 
10 JOURNAL. 
 
 low and heavy ; the outside seems to be of a kind 
 of clay, and the roofs are covered with thatch ; it 
 has a heavy appearance. The difference is not 
 more striking in any other object, than in the 
 countenances of the people. The English seem 
 formed for some exertion in almost any way we 
 should choose ; but these people do not appear 
 sensible to any passions or affections whatever. 
 The difference is striking in the postillions. The 
 English have a sprightliness and alertness suitable 
 to the employment ; but in these, there is a heavi 
 ness, dirtiness, and no elasticity. We passed 
 through Montrieul ; this place is made famous to 
 every one who has read Yorick s Journey. I regret 
 that I have it not with me I should read it with 
 more pleasure now than ever before, as we are to 
 pass through every place which he describes. 
 Some of the villages are superior to others, but all 
 are very miserable. 
 
 To-day we have been obliged to travel fourteen 
 posts, eighty-seven miles, in order to arrive at a 
 place where we could be accommodated with lodg 
 ing ; it was 9 o clock before we stopped for the night, 
 which was at Amiens. The laws of this nation 
 are so severe as to oblige every one who enters it 
 to follow their customs in every thing, particularly 
 in dress, or they render themselves ridiculous. 
 For this reason, every kind of article which they 
 manufacture themselves, is prohibited from enter- 
 
JOURNAL. 11 
 
 ing the kingdom without paying a duty. To 
 prevent this these are custom-house officers almost 
 at every town, who demand a search of your 
 baggage, although it consist only of your own 
 private clothes. But it is very seldom that they 
 will not be satisfied with half a crown, instead of 
 being a farther trouble to you. Whether the 
 duties of their office are performed by this means, 
 I do not know ; but it is more agreeable to every 
 one, than to submit to the inconvenience of the 
 law. We have been stopped several times, but 
 always found them ready to be bought. 
 
 At Chantilla, twenty-seven miles from Paris, 
 we visited the seat of the Prince ofConde. First, 
 to the kennel of dogs whicri the Prince keeps for 
 hunting there are two hundred or more. 
 Could I have borne to look at them, it would not 
 have been an agreeable sight; but the effluvia 
 was such as rendered it very disagreeable to be 
 near the apartment. 
 
 We went next to see the stables, which were in 
 the same building. This was a long range, 
 where there were more than two hundred horses ; 
 an hundred on each side, with their names over 
 each manger. We walked through the stable 
 from one door to the other ; one of the grooms 
 cams up to mamma and myself with a little stick 
 in his hand, and presented to each one ; upon 
 which papa gave him a crown. I should have 
 
12 JOURNAL. 
 
 thought it very strange ; but at breakfast papa told 
 us that he had been accosted in the same way 
 from having his gloves on and no cane in his 
 hand. It is a custom, I suppose, to request your 
 remembrance a point I find that no one in Eu 
 rope is fearful of asking. I am told that the 
 Prince sometimes sups with his horses, and pas 
 ses two or three hours with his dogs ; rather an 
 uncivilized taste I think. 
 
 We were shown next the theatre, in which he 
 acts himself for the entertainment of his friends 
 and family ; he has a daughter who plays like 
 wise. As it belongs to him, and he has the pow 
 er of regulating it, I do not think it amiss ; it is an 
 elegant building ; I saw but little of the scenery, 
 it did not appear to me equal to the English. 
 He resides at this castle from November to Janu 
 ary ; any strangers who are in town he invites to 
 his plays. We saw the dressing-room of the 
 Princess, his daughter, and some other apart 
 ments ; then we went to the armoury, which was 
 like that in the tower, but so very inferior, it scarce 
 deserves remark. Next, to the gardens about 20 
 acres there is a great variety here ; a canal full 
 of fish, the water supplied by a river. Here were 
 groves and arbours, walks and windings, woods 
 and vales, banks and rivers ; fountains playing, arid 
 statues, flowers, and shrubs. Here was the car 
 of Venus drawn by doves ; the statue of Cupid, 
 
JOURNAL. 13 
 
 with a motto in French, representing the pursuit 
 of love ineffectual. At the end of one of the 
 gardens, was thePavillion of Venus, a room eight 
 feet square ; the furniture was of chintz, chairs, 
 and settee, and curtains. The floors were like all 
 the floors in this country. Excepting in the floors, 
 there was an air of elegance in all the buildings, 
 that I have not seen even here in Paris. There 
 were four fountains in the room ; at the end, a 
 door opened into a small gallery, which was over 
 the canal. There were a number of paintings, but 
 they were not in a style that pleased me. We next 
 visited the English garden, as it is called ; this 
 consists of islands and groves, grottoes and bow 
 ers ; but I could not see any material difference. 
 In one part there was a representation of a cot 
 tage, and every thing in unison around. There 
 was a mill with a plough, and every utensil for a 
 farmer ; one apartment, in which there was every 
 thing for a kitchen ; all perfectly neat. In another 
 little apartment was a library. The next build 
 ing, they told us, was the barn ; it had the ap 
 pearance, on the outside, of a little dirty place, 
 with old windows and little doors, with every ap 
 pearance of rustic simplicity when, to our sur 
 prise, we were shown into an elegant apartment, 
 with pictures and paintings ; the furniture of pink 
 silk, trimmed with a deep, rich silver fringe and 
 tassels ; in the centre was a table with a set of 
 2 
 
14 JOURNAL. 
 
 Sevres China white, with a gilt edge. We were 
 shown, also, some buildings in the Chinese style. 
 The whole was exceedingly beautiful ; but as we 
 ever draw degrees of comparison between what we 
 now see, and what we have seen, I could not but 
 give the preference to Pope s garden at Twicken 
 ham, over every thing I have yet examined. 
 
 We have taken a house at Auteuil, near Paris, 
 very large and very inconvenient about fifty 
 little apartments, so small, most of them, as to be 
 inconvenient for lodging. There is a large room 
 to receive company in, and a dining-room ; all 
 the bed-rooms are above stairs. There is a spa 
 cious garden. 
 
 15th. This day, by invitation, we dined with 
 Mr. Barclay, in a friendly way, without form qr 
 ceremony. Mr. Jefferson and daughter dined 
 with us, and two gentlemen who were not to be 
 known. The dinner was in the French style ; 
 there is no such thing here as preserving our 
 taste in any thing ; we must all sacrifice to cus 
 tom and fashion. I will not believe it possible to 
 do otherwise ; for my papa, with his firmness arid 
 resolution, is a perfect convert to the mode in 
 every thing, at least of dress and appearance. Mrs. 
 B. is a fine woman ; the more I see of her, the 
 greater is my approbation of her. She has a firm 
 hold of my heart, from her kindness and attention 
 to my father, when he was sick of the fever last 
 
JOURNAL. 15 
 
 fall ; I shall ever feel a grateful remembrance of 
 her goodness. 
 
 16th. Papa s friends, the three abbes, came 
 to pay their respects to us. They insisted upon 
 it, that I should talk French with them ; and I 
 am inclined to believe that I should learn more 
 French from their great solicitude to converse, 
 than in any other way. 
 
 21st August. This morning, mamma, myself, 
 and my brother, went into Paris on our way 
 made a call on Madame Grand, to return a visit 
 made us on Thursday. She was dressing, and 
 not to be seen the Abbe Arneau was with us 
 this is the first house I have seen in any degree 
 of order or neatness, being elegant and neat 
 at the same time. At five my brother and myself 
 went to la Comedie du bois de Boulogne we 
 were too early and walked in the woods ; there 
 were a s:reat number of carriages. I imagined 
 there would be much company at the Comedie, 
 but found they were more disposed for walking 
 than seeing the play. 
 
 The music was pretty good, the actors and 
 actresses only tolerable. I am not fond of come 
 dy in general; I had rather be improved than 
 amused, if the distinction can be made between 
 comedy and tragedy. The dresses did not please 
 me as much as those in England. 
 
 August 22, 1784. This day, fortnight, I left 
 
16 JOURNAL. 
 
 London; this day, ten weeks, I left America. I 
 had not thought to have found such weather in a 
 climate I had heard such accounts of we have 
 had a continual storm, except yesterday, since 
 Tuesday. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, Col. Humphreys, and a Polish 
 gentleman, lately from America, dined with us. 
 Col. H. is appointed by Congress, Secretary of 
 the Commercial Commission he was an aid to 
 General Washington. He seems about 30, his ap 
 pearance is soldier-like. I have not seen enough 
 of these people to form a judgment, or to make 
 any remarks with justice. 
 
 24th. Went in the morning with my papa and 
 mamma to pay our respects to Dr. Franklin ; 
 this man on whom the world have passed such 
 high encomiums, and perhaps justly ; he is now 
 near 80 years old and looks in good health. 
 
 Wednesday, 25th. We all dined to-day with 
 the three abbes; these are persons who exclude 
 themselves by their vows from marrying. The 
 youngest is about 60 ; he is quite a gay young 
 man at least he appears to advantage when the 
 others are present. He endeavours to make us 
 understand what he says, and in a proper man 
 ner, by speaking slow and distinctly; he has long 
 been acquainted with papa, and visits us almost 
 everyday. We had a very elegant dinner ; the 
 apartments are very neat and handsome. It is not 
 
JOURNAL. 17 
 
 the custom in this country to take tea in the af 
 ternoon ; we came away about five. 
 
 Saturday, Aug. 28th. To-day we have had 
 company to dine, the three abbes, Dr. Franklin. Mr. 
 Hartly, and Commodore Jones, of whom so much 
 has been said in various ways ; he has received 
 an honorary reward from the French King of 
 the Star or Cross of St. Louis, for some service 
 performed, or some piece of conduct highly re 
 vered, and is taken great notice of here. 
 
 Wednesday, 1st September. Dined at Dr. 
 Franklin s by invitation; a number of gentlemen, 
 and Madame Helvetius, a French lady 60 years 
 of age. 
 
 Odious indeed do our sex appear when divest 
 ed of those ornaments, with which modesty and 
 delicacy adorn them. 
 
 September 5th. To-day, by invitation, we 
 dined with Mr. Grand and family ; after dinner it 
 was proposed to go and see the Dauphin, whose 
 palace was not far from this. The palace is within 
 a garden, in which no person is permitted to 
 walk any days but Sundays; then it is open to 
 every one ; it is a day devoted throughout the 
 kingdom to the pleasures of every class. Among 
 the higher class, it is appropriated to visiting and 
 receiving company ; and among the lower class, 
 it is devoted to any amusement they choose to 
 follow. With the rest of the crowd we went to 
 2* 
 
18 JOURNAL. 
 
 see the Dauphin ; before the palace was a garden 
 with an open fence all round it. His lordship was 
 playing with an iron shovel ; there were four ladies 
 attending him, one was a dutchess, and the others 
 I know not what ; they were elegant women ; 
 upon our approaching, he was set to walking and 
 running, to give us an opportunity of seeing him ; 
 he was a pretty, sprightly boy, and behaved with 
 the same ease and freedom any child would. There 
 were more than a thousand persons, and others 
 continually passing, to see this representative of 
 despotism. 
 
 September 19th. To-day we went to see the 
 balloon ; it was to ascend from the garden of the 
 Tuilleries; we had tickets at a crown a person to 
 go in. We left our carriage outside and went in ; 
 the garden 1 had never been in before ; it is very 
 large, and in general, elegant. There were eight 
 or ten thousand persons present. This people 
 are more attentive to their amusements than any 
 thing else ; however, as we were upon the same 
 errand, it is unjust to reflect upon others, whose 
 curiosity was undoubtedly as well founded. \Ye 
 walked a little, took a view of the company, and 
 approached the balloon ; it was made of taffetas 
 and in the form of an egg, if both ends were large ; 
 this is what contains the air ; below it is a gallery 
 where are the adventurers and the ballast. At 
 eleven it was moved from the place of its stand- 
 
JOURNAL. 19 
 
 ing among the trees to an open situation, and the 
 cords, which were held by some of the greatest 
 men in the kingdom, were cut ; it mounted in the 
 air. It was some time in sight, as they had in 
 tended making some experiments upon their ma 
 chine. At six in the evening it descended at 
 Bevre, fifty leagues from Paris. At two o clock 
 the same day there was a storm of rain, with 
 thunder and lightning, but they were not affected 
 by it. 
 
 September 25th. This day we have had a 
 company of twenty persons to dine with us, all 
 Americans but four : those were Mr. Grand s 
 family, Mr. and Mrs. B. were among the Ameri 
 cans ; they are from P. and are travelling for 
 pleasure. Mr. B. is possessed of a large fortune 
 both very young. Mrs. B. is only 20 ; she was 
 married at 16 ; she is pretty, a good figure, but 
 rather still. She has not been long enough in 
 this country to have gained that ease of air and 
 manner which is peculiar to the women here ; and 
 when it does not exceed the bounds of delicacy, is 
 very pleasing. Mrs. B. has been in Europe two 
 years. I admire her that she is not in the small 
 est degree tinctured by indelicacy. She has, from 
 the little acquaintance I have had with her, gen 
 uine principles; she is very sprightly and very 
 pleasing. 
 
 Monday, 27th. Went to the Italian opera. 
 
20 JOURNAL. 
 
 and saw presented a little piece that has made a 
 great noise ; it is a history of the whims and co 
 quetry of two lovers a good representation of the 
 ridiculous. 
 
 Thursday, 30th. Went to Paris, and dined by 
 invitation with Mr. Jefferson ; met Mr. and Mrs. 
 B., Mrs. Barclay. Mr. J. is an agreeable man. 
 Col. H. is I dont know what a sensible man I 
 believe but his address is not very agreeable ; 
 he is I believe a very worthy character. Mrs. 
 B. has a most pleasing address, and a very happy 
 turn of expression, with a good deal of polite 
 ness she will not fail to please. Mr. B. is an 
 agreeable man he is delicately attentive, and his 
 behaviour to Madame is very pleasing. 
 
 Monday, 4th October. Went to dine with Dr. 
 Franklin, found Gov. Pownall and lady, Mr. J., 
 Col. H., the two abbes, and some others. After 
 dinner my brother and myself accepted of Mr. 
 Jefferson s invitation, and went to the Concert at 
 the Chateau of the Tuilleries, which was by 
 order. Prince Henry, brother to the King of 
 Prussia, was there. 
 
 Tuesday, 5th. Papa went to Versailles ; every 
 Tuesday is called Ambassador s Day ; in general 
 they all attend. 
 
 Wednesday, 6th. To-day papa dined with the 
 Spanish Ambassador ; when he returned he gave 
 us an account of his visit; he is about 80 years 
 
JOURNAL. 21 
 
 old, and has lately married a young lady of 16, 
 his niece and heir to his fortune. Papa told me 
 it was an affecting sight to see such a couple ; 
 he seemed very much disgusted at the match, 
 where such inequality of age existed ; he said 
 Madame, the Countess, appeared absolutely mel 
 ancholy ; he really pitied her. 
 
 Thursday, 7th October. Governor Pownall 
 and lady, a Mr. Hobart, an English gentlman, 
 dined with us to-day. I do not pretend to draw 
 portraits. After dinner Mrs. Pownall very politely 
 invited me to accompany her in visiting the house 
 and garden of the Duke de Chartres ; she had 
 tickets or permission from the Duke. I did so, and 
 was not only pleased with my acquaintance with 
 her, but exceedingly gratified with what I saw. 
 The Duke has built, finished, and furnished the 
 house in the English style. I can truly say, I never 
 saw any thing so elegant ; it seems a winding laby 
 rinth. We were first shown into the winter garden 
 and grotto ; the latter is entirely artificial ; it was 
 large ; but, it is dark we could not see enough of 
 it to enable me to describe it farther. The winter 
 garden was under cover; here, the servant told 
 us the Duke generally dines in the winter; it is 
 large and appropriated to pleasure. From this 
 room we went into a little room which was 
 French, and surrounded with mirrors ; the furni 
 ture was yellow silk. Then we were shown into 
 
22 JOURNAL. 
 
 a long gallery covered with transparent paintings, 
 which when lighted must be beautiful ; here were 
 a variety of rooms, all of which we saw with so 
 much haste, that I do not remember their distinc 
 tion ; they were all perfectly English and elegant. 
 There were glasses so arranged that we saw 
 through the whole. We were unfortunately so 
 late thatwe could not see thegardens, and returned 
 to Auteuil. Governor P. and lady returned to 
 Paris, leaving me much gratified, and obliged by 
 their politeness. There is great pleasure in see 
 ing things perfectly agreeable to our taste. 
 
 8th. We received letters from our American 
 friends. 
 
 9th. A great fast and a sober day amongst the 
 people of this country. Our French servant has 
 been to mass, which I am sure he has not before 
 since he has lived with us. In the afternoon my 
 brother and I took a walk in the garden of the 
 Friars, which is a little distance from us, and an 
 agreeable walk. This class of men are perhaps 
 the most numerous of any in France, and they 
 have in general, appropriated the best situations 
 in the country to themselves. One seldom sees 
 a high hill, and a good situation, but it is covered 
 with a monastery or a convent. 
 
 12th. Papa and my brother dined with the 
 Swedish Ambassador; the dinner was very sump 
 tuous and elegant j it was served in plate, except 
 
JOURNAL. 23 
 
 the last course, which was China, gilt knives, 
 forks, and spoons ; every thing to correspond. 
 
 13th. Went in the afternoon to visit Madame 
 Grand ; found the ladies at home, and passed a 
 very agreeable hour j met a young French lady 
 who spoke English very well. It is the custom 
 in this country never to introduce persons to each 
 other. I found her very agreeable and should have 
 been happy to have requested to commence an ac 
 quaintance, but that is not done by words. If you 
 wish to be visited, you must make the first visit, 
 and no one will be so impolite as not to return it : 
 thus your acquaintance commences and grows. 
 The oftener you visit, the sooner you will become 
 acquainted; and when you part, it is not the cus 
 tom to ask the return of the visit. I was much 
 pleased with mine to-day, and should have been 
 pleased to have made it longer. 
 
 Came home and found Mr. Jefferson again. 
 He is an agreeable man ; we should be obliged to 
 him for taking the trouble to come out ; if he had 
 not had business, I fancy he would not have come 
 to-day. 
 
 Thursday, 14th Oct. 1784. Mr. Jefferson 
 sent us cards yesterday to admit us to see the 
 ceremony of taking the veil, in the convent where 
 his daughter is to receive her education. We 
 rose at seven, dressed, and went into Paris, and 
 breakfasted with Madame Barclay. At nine we 
 
24 JOURNAL. 
 
 went to the Church, where we found a number 
 of persons of our acquaintance. Upon this occa 
 sion we were admitted to the altar where the priest 
 performs, which at other times is not allowed. 
 It was separated from the place of the nuns and 
 those of the convent, by iron grates. The place 
 in which they were, was a large apartment, with 
 seats around. The floor was covered with an ele 
 gant carpet here were the nuns only. When 
 we first went they were repeating their prayers ; 
 presently the curtains were drawn aside, the lady 
 abbess and other nuns, with all the pensioners, 
 came. The candles were lighted each nun held 
 a lighted candle in her hand ; the two nuns who 
 were to take the veil, came forward, attended by 
 two English ladies who were pensioners ; each 
 held a large lighted torch in her hand they were 
 elegantly dressed, and in all the vanities of the 
 world. 
 
 The two nuns were in fine, white woollen dres 
 ses, made like a parson s robes, loose and flowing ; 
 their veils were white ; they appeared first with 
 a different made robe on ; it was rather a cloak 
 very long ; their hair all shaved off; a white cap 
 and veil. They came and kneeled before the 
 altar ; there was much sinking arid chanting of 
 prayers. It is impossible to describe the many 
 different manners and forms, alternately kneeling 
 and rising. The priest came to the altar and 
 
JOURNAL. 25 
 
 made many signs that I did not understand. 
 There were three who assisted ; one of them de 
 livered a sermon in French. He began by expa 
 tiating upon the goodness of the king ; then on 
 the excellence of every particular class of people, 
 from the throne to the footstool. He told them 
 this was a very good world to live in, and that it 
 was very wrong to quit it. After dwelling a long 
 time upon its excellence, he told them a false 
 philosophy had got into the world, and every thing 
 was becoming bad ; every one was guided by self- 
 interest, and they had the happiest prospect in 
 quitting it. At the same time, he represented to 
 them the disagreeableness of their situation ; that 
 they would be confined, and that very possibly 
 their actions would be wrongly construed. If 
 they should be gay, the nuns would say of them, 
 that they had not yet quitted the world. If they 
 were grave, they might say, that they were un 
 happy and repented of their vows. After this the 
 nuns went round and took leave of all the others, 
 and kissed them. Then they laid down upon 
 their faces, and there was brought in, by eight 
 pensioners, a pall of black, crossed with white, 
 which was held over them ; the priest then read 
 some part of the ceremony. The nuns chanted 
 their prayers. This was an affecting sight ; I 
 could not refrain from tears ; every one seemed 
 affected around, particularly the French. One 
 3 
 
26 JOURNAL. 
 
 of the priests seemed affected ; the others appeared 
 as insensible as statues of lead or wood. This 
 ceremony lasted half an hour, while these poor 
 girls were lying on their faces ; and when they 
 rise, it is called rising to the resurrection, after hav 
 ing been dead to the world. Then they went to 
 the old abbess; she put upon them the nun s habit. 
 While this was performing, the countenance of 
 first of the nuns, who was French, and of one 
 of the first families in the kingdom, which had 
 been without a smile and entirely inattentive 
 to every thing but her devotion, was lighted up 
 with a smile, and she appeared very pleasing. 
 The other was an Irish girl ; her countenance 
 was not very expressive ; it seemed calm, arid 
 without any appearance of the least degree of per 
 turbation of spirits. The first, I observed, blushed 
 often, and seemed affected. After the robe was 
 put on, there were more reading and prayers ; then 
 the priest sprinkled the veil destined for them 
 with holy water, and perfumed it with frank in 
 cense. The abbess then put it on them while 
 they kneeled before her ; then followed more pray 
 ers and reading : then the abbess pinned upon 
 each of their heads a wreath of flowers ; this was 
 a part of the ceremony, as none of the nuns but 
 them had them. A candle was then put into their 
 hands and mass was said, which, with the prayers 
 and the whole ceremony, was performed in Latin, 
 
t* 
 
 JOURNAL. 27 
 
 of which I suppose they understood as much as I 
 did. 
 
 When the priest in his sermon, invited all the 
 others who were present, to follow the example of 
 these nuns, 1 observed the English girl, who held 
 the candle for one of them, look very sharp upon 
 the other English girl, whose countenance ex 
 pressed that she knew better than all this that 
 she had no such intention quite right she. 
 
 The relations of the two victims appeared less 
 affected than any one present. It is very probable 
 they are the victims of pride or wickedness. Thus 
 these two girls are destined to pass their lives 
 within the walls of this convent. They are not 
 so strict as formerly. Miss Jefferson told me they 
 were very cheerful and agreeable. They seemed 
 to take pleasure in contributing to the happiness 
 of the pensioners. There were three princesses 
 who are here for their education, and were dis 
 tinguished from the others by a blue ribbon over 
 the shoulder. 
 
 This is considered the best and most genteel 
 convent in Paris. Most of the English, who send 
 their children here for their education, put them 
 into this convent. There are a number now here. 
 
 Tuesday, 19th. Oct. Mr. B. came flourishing 
 out in the morning to accompany papa to Ver 
 sailles, to be presented to his most Christian ma- 
 
28 JOURNAL. 
 
 jesty, the King of France, with his four horses and 
 three servants, in all the pomp of an American 
 merchant. About twelve they returned, as there 
 was no court. 
 
 Oct. 22. Breakfasted with Mr. and Mrs. Bing- 
 ham, and went with them to see the Duke de 
 Chartres gardens, which, if they were intended 
 as an imitation of the English, were rather a bur 
 lesque upon them, or rather a proof how very in 
 adequate the French are, to imitate the perfection 
 to which the English have arrived. I would not 
 detract from the merits of this nation in any res 
 pect, but certainly, they do not equal the English 
 in the neatnass and elegance of their gardens. 
 Those at Chantilly, which are equal to any in 
 France, were deficient in general neatness. We 
 were not permitted to see the house, which was a 
 greater disappointment to the other ladies, than to 
 me, as I had seen it before. A French gentleman 
 accompanied us, a very agreeable man, who has 
 been in America, and was perhaps improved. 
 What a local sentiment is this, and yet perhaps a 
 just one, for this gentleman certainly discovered 
 more modesty, than those gentlemen who have 
 been only used to French manners would. We 
 saw the gardens, which were very inadequate to 
 my expectations ; we returned to Auteuil before 
 dinner. 
 
 26th. We all dined with Mr. and Mrs. Bing- 
 
JOURNAL. 29 
 
 ham at their hotel, which is the Hotel Muscovy. 
 There was much company : Mrs. B. gains my 
 love and admiration, more and more every time I 
 see her ; she is possessed of more ease and polite 
 ness in her behaviour, than any person I have 
 seen. She joins in every conversation in compa 
 ny; and when engaged herself in conversing with 
 you, she will, by joining directly in another chit 
 chat with another party, convince you, that she 
 was all attention to every one. She has a taste 
 for show, but not above her circumstances. Mr. 
 B. is an agreeable man, but seems to feel the su 
 periority of fortune more than Mrs. B. After din 
 ner we went to the play without saying a word 
 to any body, which was hardly civil according to 
 my ideas ; but it was French. 
 
 Oct. 27th. To-day we have had company to 
 dine ; all Americans but the three abbes ; we 
 passed the time agreeably. Mr. Jefferson was pre 
 vented by indisposition. 
 
 28th. Dined to-day, by invitation, with Mon 
 sieur Chalut, brother to the Abbe Chalut, he is 
 a very old man, and appears older than he really 
 is. There was a young lady whom I took for his 
 daughter ; a very pretty, sprightly brunette. She 
 called him mon pere, and he called her mon fille. 
 She is a very accomplished girl. When we came 
 away, papa told me her history. 
 3* 
 
30 JOURNAL. 
 
 Madame Chalut went one day to the repository 
 of foundlings, and took this girl out, as a play 
 thing, as she had no children. She brought her 
 home and educated her in the most polite manner, 
 giving her a master for every accomplishment, 
 and treated her as tenderly as if she had been her 
 own child, until she died three years since. Her 
 husband takes the same care of her ; she has a 
 master to teach her English, an abbe ; he had 
 been in America ; he speaks English very well. 
 There was other company, and by their ribbons 
 I suppose were great folks. But persons in this 
 country are seldom, if ever, introduced ; and one 
 may dine in an hundred companies, and converse 
 with every one in company without knowing 
 them. The abbes told my father at table to-day, 
 that they dined once or twice a week with this 
 gentleman, their brother, and half the time knew 
 not half the company. We had an elegant dinner 
 all served in plate, which I cannot like as well as 
 china, though it has the appearance of more riches 
 and grandeur. We came away after dinner and 
 went to pay our respects to madame, the Marquise 
 de la Fayette. We were shown to the ladies in 
 their rooms. Madame, the Marquise, her mother, 
 and youngest sister, were sitting in an unceremo 
 nious way with their work, and seemed to be in 
 that social manner that we boast of in America. 
 They seemed to be going out ; so we made a short 
 
JOURNAL. 31 
 
 visit. Madame de la Fayette received us very 
 civilly and cordially, with great ease and goodness, 
 and very politely apologized for not waiting upon 
 us first. She speaks English a little. I had al 
 ways heard she was handsome ; I do not think her 
 so; she was not painted, and very little dressed; she 
 is very agreeable and pleasing, as indeed are all 
 the ladies of this country ; not equalled by any 
 other 1 believe. As we came out, we met Mr. 
 Jefferson and Mr. Williamson going in. We went 
 to the Comedie Francais ; they gave us two laugh 
 able pieces, but I did not feel disposed to laugh at 
 them. 
 
 Nov. 7th, 1784. This morning, for the first 
 time since I have been in France, I went with my 
 papa, mamma, and brother, to the Dutch Ambassa 
 dor s Chapel ; the service was in French. When 
 we came out, papa went with us to the Hospital of 
 Invalids, which is upon the other side of the river 
 as we go to Paris. This institution was founded 
 by Louis the 14th, to equal, or out do, the Eng 
 lish. Every body who went to England extolled 
 St. Paul s Church ; his pride was touched by the 
 praises bestowed upon that building, and he un 
 dertook to have this built, to equal the English. It 
 is a building not so large as St. Paul s ; there is a 
 fine court, and the building is very elegant. The 
 dome, which we see every day as we so to Paris, 
 is the curiosity of the whole. It is a Church in a 
 
32 JOURNAL. 
 
 circular form, paved with marble, wrought and 
 inlaid in various forms and in various colours, 
 most elegant and beautiful ; at each corner is a 
 Chapel, as they are called, ornamented with three 
 statues of white marble of the saint and saintess. 
 The whole was embellished with fine paintings. 
 The invalids received here are those who have 
 served in the army twenty-five years, old or sick. 
 We returned home. 
 
 Madame de la Fayette is a fine woman ; speaks 
 a little English : perfectly easy in her manners ; 
 a little French in some respects ; sprightly and 
 very pleasing. As we were sitting round the fire, 
 the door opened, and this lady entered with all 
 the freedom of a familiar friend, how much more 
 agreeable than any other manner possible. The 
 women universally in this country, and the ladies 
 of education in particular, have an ease and soft 
 ness in their manners, that is not found in any 
 other country perhaps in the world ; it is very 
 charnung, and were it not for some little excep 
 tions, their manners would I think be perfect. 
 She sat half an hour, and left us much pleased 
 with her. 
 
 llth Nov. Papa and mamma being indisposed, 
 my brother and myself dined at Mr. B. s by invi 
 tation ; we found mostly Americans ; I had rather 
 they had been French. The only lady was Mrs. 
 C. except myself; I found her much more agree- 
 
JOURNAL. 
 
 33 
 
 able than I expected. Mr. C. had not the good 
 fortune to please me. In the eve we went to the 
 Italian comedy ; I was pleased and entertained. 
 
 18th. To-day we had company to dine all 
 Americans but the Marchioness de la Fayette ; 
 all have been mentioned here before, and no one 
 except Mr. Jackson merits a second observation. 
 He is without exception, the most polite man I 
 have ever seen ; by politeness I mean not that 
 light superficial frothiness which we often meet 
 with, and which sometimes conceals a great deal 
 of rudeness, but a certain something 1 in his man 
 ners and appearance that cannot fail to please 
 every one who is acquainted with him ; my papa 
 calls him the Sir Charles Grandison of this age ; 
 I was never acquainted with him until I came to 
 France ; I consider it an acquisition. 
 
 21st. Went to Paris in the evening, to the 
 Comedie Francois, where was played Arnphriton, 
 a comedy of Molire s. 
 
 Nov. 28th. A most beautiful day ; we had to 
 dine with us Mr. Jackson, my favourite ; he is in 
 deed a most worthy man ; Dr. Bancroft, the au 
 thor of Charles Wentworth ; he is about 40 ; his 
 manners and conversation are agreeable and 
 when one has heard him converse for a few hours, 
 though not upon any particular subject, one is 
 rather pleased than otherwise. Also two young 
 Americans, a Mr. B. a Virginian, the other a Phil- 
 
34 JOURNAL. 
 
 adelphian ; and I do not believe, that to have 
 searched the kingdom of France, one could have 
 found two greater curiosities in appearance. Mr. 
 J. is the only gentleman 1 have had any kind of 
 conversation with since I have been here. 
 
 I have often complained of a stiffness and re 
 serve in our circles in America, that was disagree 
 able what every one complained of and no one 
 banished ; a little French ease adopted would be 
 an improvement. There are many customs here 
 that might advantageously be carried into prac 
 tice with us, and others that would not be found 
 agreeable. In company here, every one consults 
 his own pleasure ; the ladies walk about, view the 
 pictures if there are any, chat with any one who 
 pleases them, talk of general subjects, such as the 
 spectacles ; no one in general is introduced, but 
 this does not retard the general sociability ; per 
 sonal subjects are to be avoided, and no ill must 
 be spoken of any one ; persons need not be guard 
 ed, for no one should feel an inclination to say 
 any thing to the detriment of another. Your 
 company may form into parties, and converse as 
 they please ; in some respects it is agreeable. 
 
 Tuesday 30th. Papa went to Versailles by 
 himself last Tuesday ; he introduced Mr. J. Mr. 
 T. and Mr. B. the first American gentlemen in 
 private characters, that have been introduced at 
 this court. Mr. B. s ambition promoted it; what 
 
JOURNAL. 35 
 
 it will promote him to I know not ; if to what he 
 wishes, it is easily determined. 
 
 December 1st. This morning Col. H. came out 
 with Mr. W. to introduce a Mr. S. a young Ameri 
 can from Virginia; he comes recommended high 
 ly, and is to live with Mr. Jefferson; to-morrow 
 he dines with us. I have not seen him, as I do 
 not make my appearance to the gentlemen. All 
 classes of persons in this country have their fetes, 
 which are certain days when they feel themselves 
 entitled to ask a livre or two ; the gardner has 
 his, and the coachman his ; it is here mentioned 
 as a custom of the country resulting from their 
 religion. 
 
 2d. To-day we had company to dine ; the 
 Ambassador of Sweden, and the Baron de Guere, 
 Mr. Haldersdorf, and many others. The ambas- 
 dor is a man of five arid thirty, but appears not 
 more than twenty seven at most ; he is tall, grace 
 ful in his person, a fine complexion, good colour, 
 good features, in short a very handsome man ; he 
 spoke no English, but with bad French and a little 
 English ; I had some conversation with him. The 
 disposition he discovered to converse, made him 
 appear very agreeable; he spoke of the French 
 ladies, but not with much approbation. He told 
 my brother that a French lady of my age would 
 appear ten years older than I did, their complex 
 ions being so very dark, adding that one could not 
 
36 JOURNAL. 
 
 find in France so good a complexion as mine ; I 
 could with justice have returned the compliment, 
 if it was one. I observed that I thought by what 
 I had seen at the theatres, that the French ladies 
 had good complexions. Oh no, said he, avec un- 
 peu de rouge et blanche, they appear tolerable. 
 He praised the ladies of Sweden ; the Baron de 
 Guere was likewise a Swede ; I had much conver 
 sation with him about America. I sat next to 
 Mr. Jackson at table, and next to him was seated 
 Madame B. who by an exuberance of sprightli- 
 ness and wit, slips from the path of being perfectly 
 agreeable ; a little judgment would amend what 
 ever defects may appear. 
 
 Mamma and myself called to see Mrs. C. who 
 received us with softness, sweetness, and affabili 
 ty ; every thing is delicate and agreeable, except 
 the husband ; however, he has always behaved 
 very well when I have seen him. After we had 
 made our visit, we went to the Comedie Fran- 
 cais to see Figaro, papa and mamma never having 
 seen it. I found I understood it better than any 
 other piece I have yet seen ; this is the 64th 
 representation. It is indeed surprising that a 
 piece with so little merit should fill the house so 
 frequently ; it is from beginning to the end a 
 piece of studied deception and intrigue ; it has 
 never been printed, and it is thought it never will 
 be. There appears to be a great deal of low wit, 
 
JOURNAL. 37 
 
 to gain the approbation of the vulgar ; but it 
 seems to have gained the good will of higher 
 ranks ; every one exclaims against the morals of 
 it, and yet every one adds to the number of spec 
 tators. Mademoiselle Contar plays admirably in 
 it ; she is the heroine of the piece, and is certainly 
 charming ; so much ease, grace, and such an ap 
 parent simplicity, that one might take her for a 
 saint, if they knew not that she was a courtesan. 
 Dec. 31st. To-day by invitation, we dined with 
 the abbes. Mademoiselle Lucelle was there, and 
 two gentlemen. She speaks a little English, and 
 I a little French ; so we had some conversation. 
 She has the ease and affability, sprightliness, at 
 tention, and apparent solicitude to please, of a real 
 French girl. This solicitude is not troublesome, 
 nor does it discover itself by apparent studious- 
 ness, but when you least think of it, she makes 
 some advance which never fails of success. I sat 
 next her at table, she corrected my French, I in 
 return, corrected her English. She sings, and 
 although I think she has not the least voice in the 
 world, complies with your request without hesi 
 tation ; she was going to the opera, and left us at 
 five o clock. The Abbe Arno, though 60 years 
 old, is a man of much vivacity and wit, with al 
 ways a great deal of pleasantry. The Abbe de 
 Mably, who is always of our parties there, and dines 
 with us with the other two, although he does not 
 4 
 
38 JOURNAL. 
 
 live with them ; he is eighty years old, a man of 
 great learning ; has written many things that are 
 highly spoken of; among them are some letters to 
 my papa upon the forms of our government ; they 
 have been translated, and three editions of them 
 out in London. He spoke yesterday very highly 
 of Telemachus, as one of the finest things in the 
 French language ; he said he had read it very 
 often, and always was charmed with it ; it was ad 
 mirably well expressed. He said he had sometimes 
 reflected how he should have rendered the same 
 sentiments, arid that he always finds he should 
 not have equalled the author. After we came 
 away, we went to Mr. Jefferson s, where I had the 
 honour and pleasure of making tea for the gentle 
 men, Mr. J., Mr. W., Mr. H., Mr. S., Mr. Ad 
 ams and his son. mamma and myself. After 
 tea, we went to see the hall where the courts of 
 justice are held ; it was New-year s eve, and filled 
 with people, some to gratify their curiosity, some 
 to make purchases at the shops. In such a 
 crowd in London we should expect to be robbed, 
 but here, one is entirely safe in the streets and at 
 public places. We returned to Auteuil about 
 nine. 
 
 Jan. 1st, 1785. Papa went to court, it being- a 
 great day ; the ladies were much dressed ; the 
 king and queen first received the ambassadors, 
 then went to mass for an hour, then dined in pub- 
 
JOURNAL. 
 
 39 
 
 lie. to give all the world the opportunity to see them 
 eat and drink ; this ceremony is called the Grand 
 Convert, of which there are three in a year. 
 
 3d. It is customary in this country, and I be 
 lieve in all Europe, to visit and receive visits, to 
 congratulate every one of their acquaintance upon 
 the new year. I asked one gentleman about the 
 dress of the ladies on Saturday at Versailles, but 
 he could not tell me more than papa. I think he 
 related an anecdote at one of the feasts given to 
 the King of Sweden, who was here the last year, 
 and to whom the court was very civil, by paying 
 him every polite attention ; upon these occasions 
 it is customary for the court and the ambassadors 
 to dress more than usual. Madame Adelaide, one 
 of the king s aunts, addressed herself to Monsieur 
 la Compt de Mercy in French " how comes it, 
 Monsieur Ambassador, that you are solittle dressed 
 on this occasion ?" The ambassador seemed a little 
 surprised : " I do not know, madam ; my coat cost 
 me 80,000 livres." "Then," said she, "you 
 should have pinned the price upon the back of 
 it." It was green velvet, very plain, with dia 
 mond buttons ; a very curious circumstance that 
 the ambassador should be obliged to tell the price 
 of his coat. 
 
 My brother and myself attended one of the little 
 theatres ; after the entertainment was over, we 
 walked in the Palais Royal ; this is a very fash- 
 
40 JOURNAL. 
 
 ionable public walk, since the Duke de Chartres 
 has improved it so very much ; it was formerly 
 a small public garden. The palace was very in 
 different when the duke came into the possession 
 of it ; he cut down the trees, and added to the 
 building, so as to make four sides, and enclose the 
 gardens in the centre, and made a covered walk 
 all around the square, that renders it very agree 
 able and convenient ; the lower part of the houses 
 are converted into shops, the other stories to other 
 purposes, some to hotels. It was generally sup 
 posed the duke would ruin himself by the expense 
 he was at, paying ten per cent, for the money he 
 borrowed, and they called it the Duke de Char 
 tres folly ; but, from its beauty and lucrativeness, 
 it proves to be wisdom. We met some acquaint 
 ances, and when I came home, I had a feast of 
 letters from America. 
 
 1785. Last Friday, the 7th of January, Mr. 
 Blanchard and Dr. Jeffries ascended at Dover in 
 a balloon, and in two hours descended a league 
 from Calais, to the great joy and admiration of 
 every one who saw them. The people of Calais 
 received the aeriel travellers with every mark of 
 attention, respect, and admiration ; they presented 
 Mr. Blanchard with a gold box, the figure of his 
 balloon on the cover, and presented him with let 
 ters, giving him the title of citizen of Calais. 
 They offered the same to Dr. J. but he, being a 
 
JOURNAL. 41 
 
 stranger, declined them ; probably thinking his 
 situation in England would be rendered more dis 
 agreeable, and create jealousies by such a distinc 
 tion. They likewise requested of Mr. Blanchard 
 his balloon to put into the Cathedral Church at 
 Calais, as the ship of Columbus was put into a 
 Church in Spain. These gentlemen have arrived 
 at Paris. This voyage has been long projected 
 their success has been quite equal to their ex 
 pectations ; there being but little wind, they did 
 not make so quick a voyage as some others have 
 done. Mr. B. is a Frenchman, Dr. J. an Ameri 
 can. 
 
 Wednesday, 12th January. To-day papa car 
 ried mamma and myself to see two churches, 
 Notre Dame and St. Sulpice ; these are two of the 
 finest in Paris. The churches in this country 
 are superior in point of grandeur, magnificence, 
 and elegance, to any other buildings they have; 
 these were very beautiful. I had not time to no 
 tice them, or knowledge sufficient to describe them. 
 We went also to see the Enfans Trouves : this 
 claimed my attention more than the churches. 
 Louis 14th, by a declaration of an order of his 
 counsel, authorized the establishment of this hos 
 pital, which is attended by some religious order 
 called Charity Sisters, who oversee it. This house 
 was built in the year 1747. All new born chil 
 dren are received here, at all hours, night and day, 
 4* 
 
42 JOURNAL. 
 
 without question or formality ; during the day 
 they are received at the door ; during the night the 
 sisters watch to receive them; their number 
 amounts to more than six thousand every year. 
 In the hall of this house there are an hundred cra 
 dles to receive the infants. There are always four 
 nurses in this .house, who nurse them until they 
 can be put out to nurse, where they keep them 
 until they are five years old. On their return 
 they are conducted to another house upon the 
 same plan, and connected with this, where they 
 are taught to read and write ; the boys to knit, and 
 the girls to embroider, and make lace, till the age 
 of 13, when they take their first communion ; 
 then they are put to trades. 
 
 There was a chapel which we did not see ; 
 there are two chaplains who belong to it, who 
 are aided by enfans who sing the service. 
 
 We saw the hall where they are first received, 
 and the hundred cradles. The sister who governed 
 here, seemed a well-bred, intelligent person ; her 
 dress was that of a nun, her countenance was 
 expressive of all that was amiable sensibility 
 and sweetness were predominant. She told us 
 there had .been received more than six thousand 
 the last year ; they had fifteen thousand at nurse 
 in the country, under five years old ; she had re 
 ceived since the first of January, and this was 
 only the 12th, two hundred; that about one-third 
 
JOURNAL. 43 
 
 died every year. Sometimes, she said, they were 
 so cold and stiffened that they could not recover 
 them. It was amazing to me how they could 
 keep a room with such a number, either decent, 
 or otherwise than disagreeable. I can truly say 
 I never saw a room in better order or neatness ; 
 the cradles were all round the room, and two 
 rows down the middle ; each one shone like ma 
 hogany, and the beds looked as neat as possible. 
 The poor little things were some asleep, others 
 crying, and some without any appearance of life. 
 She showed us several that had been brought in 
 this day, and one that had been baptized that 
 morning. While we were looking at them, and 
 considering their helpless situation, unprotected 
 by those to whom they owed their lives, another 
 was brought in to add to the number; this ap 
 peared about three months old. There came with 
 it a paper, stating the death of its mother. The 
 motto of the house is : " My father and my moth 
 er have forsaken me, but the Lord hath taken 
 care of me." 
 
 " This Institution of Charity Sisters, owes its 
 foundation to Madame le Gras. Few establish 
 ments are equally useful ; the benevolent cares of 
 these pious women, make them attend upon the 
 poor and their children ; they afford great relief in 
 their parishes, and every where ; they make their 
 vows yearly, and have it in their power to leave 
 
44 JOURNAL. 
 
 them when they please. Their chapel is remark 
 able for its extreme simplicity and neatness at 
 the foot of the altar, is the tomb of its foundress, 
 Madame le Gras." 
 
 20th. Mamma and myself went to Paris, and 
 paid a visit to Mrs. B. in the Palais Royal ; we 
 have not seen her before since she moved. I was 
 quite as much pleased with her as ever, and must 
 confess that she has excellencies that overbalance 
 every want of judgment, or that love for gay life, 
 which is very conspicuous in her, but which I do 
 not wonder at, at all. It is united with so many 
 agreeable and amiable qualities, that it is impossi 
 ble not to admire her. They are really domestic, 
 and the principles of affection and domestic hap 
 piness are so very apparent, that I never see them 
 that I do not gain a higher opinion of that state, 
 in which I believe one may most enjoy it. 
 
 I often think of a speech of Gov. Pownall s 
 when he was here some time since. I thank 
 Heaven, said he, I have no habits. Method 
 is an acquisition that saves people much trouble ; 
 but when too scrupulously attended to, leads to 
 such a degree of regularity, that sometimes become 
 troublesome. This degree should be avoided as 
 much as possible, as people would wish to relieve 
 their friends from a disagreeable situation ; but 
 how I came upon this subject here I know not. 
 
 January 27th. A small company to dine to- 
 
JOURNAL. 45 
 
 day ; the Abbe Arneau, Mr. Dash a Swedish 
 gentleman, Col. H., and Mr. Jefferson ; Miss J. we 
 expected; but the news of the death of one of Mr. 
 J. s children in America, brought by the Marquis 
 de la Fayette, prevented. Mr. J. is a man of 
 great sensibility, and parental affection. His wife 
 died when this child was born, and he was almost 
 in a confirmed state of melancholy ; confined him 
 self from the world, and even from his friends, for a 
 lonsr time ; and this news has greatly affected him 
 and his daughter. She is a sweet girl, delicacy and 
 sensibility are read in every feature, and her man 
 ners are in unison with all that is amiable and 
 lovely; she is very young. Col. H. has taken the 
 most effectual means of gaining 1 my good opinion; 
 no more reflections upon the stiffness of his man 
 ners must proceed from me ; he presented me to 
 day with a copy of a poem written by himself, 
 and addressed to the army, while he was Aid de 
 Camp to Genera] Washington, which he has had 
 printed since he came to Paris. I confess I had 
 not formed an idea of his being a poet. This was 
 no doubt owing to my want of penetration. It 
 is well written, and the verse is easy. 
 
 Mr. S. grows very sociable and pleasant. He ap 
 pears a well-bred man. without the least formality, 
 or affectation of any kind. He converses with 
 ease, and says many good things. He wants to 
 go to a convent to learn French. The abbe, 
 
46 JOURNAL. 
 
 upon my inquiring-to-day after Mademoiselle Lu 
 cille, told me she had gone to a convent ; and 
 added, that the manners of the women of this 
 country were so dissipated, and the example they 
 set their daughters was so bad, that they were 
 obliged to put them into convents, to keep them 
 out of this influence. This may be generally true, 
 but the abbe has a most detestable idea of the women 
 of this country, perhaps justly ; but I do not see 
 how they can be otherwise : the manner of edu 
 cation, and above all, the shocking manner in 
 which they are sacrificed, in the most sacred of 
 all connections ; oftentimes nothing but incon 
 stancy and wickedness can result from it. 
 
 Sunday, 30th Jan., 1785. This eve Monsieur 
 la Marquis de la Fayette called upon us, for the 
 first time since he arrived. I had neglected to be 
 properly dressed to-day, and was punished by not 
 having it in my power to see him. He gave rny 
 papa and mamma agreeable accounts of our State, 
 and of Boston in particular; he says it is the best 
 regulated, and he observed the most harmony 
 and agreement in the people, of any of the States ; 
 he had visited all. He tells us Mr. King is chosen 
 member of Congress. 
 
 February 7th. To-day we dined with Mr. Jef 
 ferson. He invited us to come and see all Paris, 
 which was to be seen in the streets to-day, and 
 many masks, it being the last day but one, of the 
 
JOURNAL. 47 
 
 Carnival, and to go to the mask ball in the even 
 ing; which we did not attend. I had but little 
 cariosity to go ; the description of those who have 
 seen it, has not given me spirit enough to spend 
 all the night to be perhaps not gratified. The 
 ball begins at one o clock in the morning, and 
 lasts until six. There are no characters support 
 ed at them here, as in England, nor are there any 
 variety in the dresses. Mrs. B. says it is the only 
 amusement that is not superior here, to what they 
 have in London. She is so delighted with Paris, 
 that she says she shall never go to America with 
 her own consent; she expects to be carried, in the 
 spring. I confess I cannot form an idea of this 
 disposition. She has, I believe, by this time, laid 
 the foundation of a future life of unhappiness. 
 Miss Jefferson dined with us no other company. 
 
 February 14th. To-day we have dined with 
 Dr. Franklin ; there was a large company : our 
 family, the Marquis de la Fayette and lady, Lord 
 Mount Morris an Irish volunteer, Dr. Jeffries, 
 Mr. Paul Jones. The Dr. s family consists of 
 himself, Mrs. Hewson an English lady, Mr. F., 
 Mr. Beach his grandson, Mr. Williams who is 
 generally there. Mr. Jefferson has not been out 
 to dine this long time. The Marquis de la Fay 
 ette 1 never saw before ; he appears a little re 
 served, and very modest. 
 
 Lord Mount Morris attracted my attention ; he 
 
48 JOURNAL. 
 
 is a very handsome man, a fine person, and an 
 agreeable countenance. He looked inquiring, 
 but Madam B., who is well acquainted with his 
 lordship, engrossed all his attention. There was 
 another Irish gentleman who was passable. Dr. 
 Jeffries, the man of the day, I happened to be seat 
 ed next at table. I made some inquiries respect 
 ing his late voyage aeriel ; he did not seem fond 
 of speaking of it; he said he felt no difference 
 from his height in the air, but that the air was 
 finer, and obliged them to breathe oftener, and that 
 it was very cold. He has been so cavilled at in 
 the papers, that I don t wonder at his reluctance 
 at conversing upon the subject. 
 
 We had a sumptuous dinner it is now Lent, 
 and all the French are doomed to fish. Our 
 French servants have purchased themselves dis 
 pensations for eating meat, because they live with 
 us. However improbable this may appear, it is a 
 fact if they speak the truth. 
 
 Madame the Marquise de la Fayette was quite 
 sociable with papa, and professed to be a physiog 
 nomist. She would not allow that 1 was triste, 
 but grave. 
 
 We have a tableau of Paris, which is a descrip 
 tion of Paris ; and if it is a true picture, a most la 
 mentable one. I would not exclaim against a 
 people of whom I know so little, otherwise than 
 from hearsay as I do of this yet plain facts as- 
 
JOURNAL. 49 
 
 tonish me sometimes. Well might Mr. Jefferson 
 say, that no man was fit to come abroad until 35, 
 unless he were under some person s care. 
 
 21st February. Dined at the Marquis de la 
 Fayette s with a circle of Americans. It was in- 
 tendended as a compliment ; but I had rather it 
 had been thought so to introduce us to French 
 company. The fondness that Madame la Marquise 
 discovers for her children, is very amiable; and 
 the more remarkable in a country where the least 
 trait of such a disposition is scarce known. She 
 seems to adore them, and to live but in them. She 
 has two that were presented to us ; they both 
 speak English, and sing it ; the Marquis appeared 
 very fond of them likewise. He is apparently a 
 man of great modesty, and delicacy of manners. 
 
 Speaking of Mrs. Jay, on whom every person 
 who knew her when here bestows many enco 
 miums, Madame de la Fayette said, she was well 
 acquainted "with, and very fond of Mrs. Jay ; she 
 added, Mrs. Jay and she thought alike : it was 
 Mrs. Jay s sentiment, that pleasure might be found 
 abroad but happiness could only be found at 
 home in the society of one s family and friends. 
 She told my papa that Mrs. Jay did not like the 
 French ladies neither do I, said she. From the 
 account she had heard of the American ladies, she 
 believed she should be pleased with them and 
 should the Marquis ever again visit America, she 
 5 
 
50 JOURNAL. 
 
 would accompany him. I was seated at table, 
 between Mr. B. and the Irish gentleman whose 
 name I have forgotten ; he was very civil, but 
 nothing very remarkable in him ; Mr. B. was in- 
 supportably disagreeable. I cannot but dislike 
 his manners in general ; to his wife they are bet 
 ter than any man I have known. Mrs. B. was 
 as ever> engaging. The elegance of her dress de 
 mands a description ; a black velvet dress with 
 pink satin sleeves and stomacher, a pink satin 
 petticoat, and over it a skirt of white crape, spot 
 ted all over with gray fur ; the sides of the gown 
 open in front, and bottom of the coat trimmed 
 with paste ; it was superb, and the gracefulness 
 of the person made it appear to peculiar advan 
 tage. To avoid singularity, and the observation 
 of the company she goes into, she wears more 
 rouge than is advantageous to her ; I was pleased 
 with a little upon her, but she has become quite a 
 French woman in this respect. We came home 
 without going to the play. 
 
 Feb. 22d. Papa went to Versailles, Col. H. 
 and Mr. S. accompanied him ; the latter he intro 
 duced at court. They came out and breakfasted 
 with us. 
 
 Feb. 26th. To-day Dr. Franklin, Mr. Williams, 
 and a Monsieur St. Olympia, a French West In 
 dian, dined with us ; the latter has been writing 
 upon the trade of the Americans with the West 
 
JOURNAL. 51 
 
 Indies ; papa breakfasted with him on Thursday. 
 He brought a book on politics for papa to look at, 
 and inquired if the ladies in America talked poli 
 tics? Papa told him they conversed much upon 
 politics, and that the liberties of a country depend 
 ed upon the ladies. 
 
 March 3d. My brother and myself went to the 
 Italian comedy, to see Richard Coeur de Lion, a 
 piece that has been played twenty times, and has 
 had great success. It is founded upon English 
 history ; there were some admirable scenes in it, 
 and they were well acted ; the music was excel 
 lent. It will not do to see any dancing after that 
 at the opera, which exceeds every thing in the 
 world. I have heard it observed that the art of 
 dancing is carried to greater perfection in this 
 country, than any other of the arts. 
 
 March 5th, 1785. To-day we have had a small 
 company to dine all Americans. Col. H. and 
 Mr. Williams, who is a man who seems to derive 
 a great degree of pleasure from being useful to his 
 friends, and omits no opportunity to exert his 
 power to their advantage ; he has been very civil 
 to us in many things. He knows the disadvan 
 tages of being in a country where one is an entire 
 stranger to the usages and customs, and when he 
 can serve his acquaintances who are in such a 
 situation, he is gratified to do it. I do not know 
 what we shall do when he goes from Paris. 
 
52 JOURNAL. 
 
 Mrs. B. came out to make us a visit and drank 
 tea the bloom of the rose is fading dissipation 
 will blast the fairest flower that ever bloomed ; in 
 her it is verified ; tis a pity so much delicacy and 
 beauty should be sacrificed to a few weeks of plea 
 sure. They leave Paris in two months, to resume 
 their travels, first to Switzerland, then to Italy, in 
 the course of the present year. 
 
 The Tableau de Paris, written by Monsieur de 
 Mercier, in six volumes, gives a very particular 
 description of every thing that can be found in 
 Paris I had almost said in France. It is very 
 entertaining; he has lashed where he disapproved, 
 and is just, it is said, upon every thing. When he 
 published his work, which he did without the ap 
 probation of the King, he was sought for, and the 
 book-seller was taken up. When the author found 
 this was the case, he went to the lieutenant of po 
 lice, and told him he was himself the author. 
 This openness of conduct, it is said, only saved 
 him from being banished. The police made him 
 a compliment upon his work, but he was soon 
 obliged to leave the kingdom, and it is probable 
 can never return. Thus it is, when a man speaks 
 truth in this country he is banished from it. 
 
 Monday, 7th March. To-day dined with the 
 Marquis de la Fayette ; the same company we 
 had before, and the day was passed in much the 
 
JOURNAL. 53 
 
 same way. I was seated again, next to the Irish 
 gentleman. 
 
 March 9th. To-day we went to Paris in the 
 morning, and Mr. Williams went with us to see 
 the gallery of pictures belonging to the Duke de 
 Chartres, in the Palais Royal. As the young 
 princes, his children, were with their drawing 
 master, we were not permitted to go through the 
 house, and were obliged to pass through the court; 
 thus little people must submit to greater. The 
 gallery is very long, and there are two other 
 rooms, all hung with pictures, by some of the 
 first painters ; Raphael, Rubens, Michel Angelo, 
 and others. They were in general Scripture 
 pieces ; and many repetitions of the same thing. 
 There was a descent from the cross, which is said 
 to be one of the finest pictures now existing. I 
 cannot form an idea of more expression in any 
 thing, than is here depicted ; the same passions 
 are represented variously, and equally admirable 
 in all. There were several of Mary with the child 
 Jesus, that were fine ; in all I observed that she 
 was drawn with red hair. But there was a head 
 of St. John, that struck me more than all the rest ; 
 the eyes were looking up, the countenance ap 
 peared rather feminine ; but there was a sweet 
 ness, calmness, and serenity, that charmed me ; 
 there are but few pictures that have pleased me 
 more. There was a representation of the judg- 
 5* 
 
54 JOURNAL. 
 
 ment of Paris, with Juno, Minerva, and Yenus ; 
 I was not particularly pleased with this. Indeed, 
 there is a disagreeable sensation mixed with the 
 pleasure I derive from my view of paintings, that 
 I have yet seen in Europe : though I find the im 
 pression is not so forcible as it was at first. But even 
 now I turn involuntarily aside, sometimes when 
 others are admiring; perhaps it is an affectation, 
 yet I do not believe that it is not a better principle. 
 There were many others, deserving attention; but 
 when such a variety is presented to the view, it is 
 impossible to retain a just idea of all ; we see one 
 and admire it, but when we see many others wor 
 thy of attention, the first is hardly retained ; I 
 always find it so, and always wish to devote more 
 time to them, than it is possible to do. The Duke 
 de Chartres has also made a collection of the 
 models of all trades, and has them in glass cases. 
 This man, with all his possessions, and with every 
 thing in his power to possess, but the disposition 
 to be made happy by them, goes to England to 
 associate with the Prince of Wales, and to seek 
 the pleasure which he cannot find within the 
 compass of his own possessions, in his own coun 
 try. Such is human nature. 
 
 We went to see Mademoiselle Bertang. who is 
 milliner to the Glueen of France and to all Eu 
 rope. She is now employed in making clothes 
 for F infante d Espagne, and the Princess of Por- 
 
JOURNAL. 55 
 
 tugal. The former is to be demanded the 28th 
 of the present month, in marriage, by the Prince 
 of Portugal ; she is now ten years old ; the clothes 
 are very rich and superb ; but we did not see the 
 best, as they are sent off as soon as finished. We 
 saw the dress which she wore at court. Made 
 moiselle Bertang has lately received orders for 
 unlimited credit upon the court of Spain, for these 
 things ; it is said she will not clear less than five 
 or six thousand guineas. She is the first milliner 
 in Europe ; every year she sends the fashions to 
 all parts of the world. We went to a large room, 
 where there were twenty girls at work ; the hotel 
 seemed to be large and full. 
 
 Saturday, 12th March. To-morrow commen 
 ces Semaine Salute, Holy Week. But this people 
 could not exist, if they had not some amusement 
 or diversion ; there will be a Concert Spirituel 
 every night, and the fete of Long-Champ occupies 
 three days. A few years since, upon one of these 
 days, there appeared one of the girls who dance 
 at the opera, in a carriage with servants ; her whole 
 equippage superior to any other present, or to 
 the Queen s. The wheels of her carriage were 
 washed with silver, and her horses were shod with 
 silver ; every thing was in uniformity with this. 
 The next day the queen sent her word, if she ever 
 apppeared in such a manner again, she should be 
 taken care of. Whether this was not descending 
 
56 JOURNAL. 
 
 from the dignity we should suppose in the char 
 acter of the Queen of France, I will not decide. 
 
 Monday, 14th. We had a large company to 
 dine, the Marquis de la Fayette and lady, the 
 Chevalier de la Luzerne, Mr. Brandsonthe Dutch 
 Ambassador Extraordinary, Mr. and Mrs. B. ; the 
 latter has a great share of grace, united with a vi 
 vacity that is enchanting, but without much dig 
 nity; grace depends upon the person, actions, and 
 manners ; dignity is placed in the mind ; the latter 
 she has not ; she is nevertheless, a charming wo 
 man. 
 
 16th. Mamma and myself went to Paris and 
 
 visited Mrs. ; there is something in this 
 
 woman that pleases me very much ; it calls forth 
 my compassion, and I feel that she is unhappy. 
 There is so much of that tenderness and sensibility 
 that is seldom discoved after the romance of affec 
 tion is a little dissapated about her, that con 
 vinces me it is not an ideal and imaginary sen 
 timent, as some have said but which I never be 
 lieved there is more expression in her silence, 
 than in ten thousand complaints that I have heard 
 from some people. Her children are all amiable 
 and lovely. We spent an hour with her before 
 other company came. Mrs. R. was accompanied 
 by a Mr. West, who was introduced to us, by a 
 Mr. Jackson. He was out this morning to visit 
 us, but I was dressing and could not see him. 
 
JOURNAL. 
 
 57 
 
 17. Dined to-day at Dr. Franklin s ; the whole 
 company were Americans, except an old man, 
 Monsieur Brillian, who is a friend of the Dr., and 
 who came as he said, " a demander un dine a Pere 
 Franklin" His wife, it is said, is one of the hand 
 somest women in France. This man is perhaps 
 60 years old ; his hair is white from age, but he 
 is not venerable ; he possesses neither wit or 
 reason, but has a great propensity for talking, and 
 from his manners, I suppose, thinks he has a natu 
 ral turn for satire, when in reality he has no 
 more than his horse. Reader, pardon the com 
 parison ; of the man I ask none. 
 
 March 20th. Well might the Abbe Arneau 
 say that people in this country put their children 
 into convents to keep them out of the influence 
 
 of their manners. Mrs. told me last Monday 
 
 when she dined here, she was going to pass the 
 eve with Madame la Marquise de Buillye, and, ad 
 ded she, I suppose I shall play cards there till the 
 morning. She said she was there the last day of 
 the Carnival, and she staid until two o clock in 
 the morning, then came away leaving the com 
 pany at cards ; that a gentleman who was of the 
 party, called upon her the next day at ten, and 
 assured her when he came away he left the com 
 pany at play ; she told me that the Marquis de B. 
 went to bed, rose the next morning, went in full 
 
58 JOURNAL. 
 
 dress to pay his wife a visit, and found the com 
 pany as he had left them ! What a picture ! 
 
 She adds, that there are five ladies and some 
 gentlemen, who are of that particular party ; they 
 meet at each other s houses five nights in the 
 week, as constantly as the week passes ; that four 
 nights they play till morning ; the other two 
 nights they reserve for other parties ; that they go 
 to the play in the forepart of the evening, and 
 after the play or opera is over, they meet. She 
 said she knew a gentleman who was of all their 
 parties, and that it was inconceivable the money 
 he had lost this winter at play with them. These 
 are the wives parties. The husbands meet at their 
 public clubs, and have gamed until it was pro 
 hibited by the king lately. There are two of 
 these, the saloons, and the arcander, where the 
 first and principal men of the kingdom meet 
 every night ; they have the public papers, and all 
 the news, and a supper, and used to play, till for 
 bidden. There must be a formal reception, for 
 which they pay a certain sum. These clubs are 
 not approved of by the government of this coun 
 try, and it is said they would be forbidden. But 
 what a portrait of real life ! who could be in 
 duced to believe that human beings sacrificed 
 their time and lives to such practices, if they 
 were not assured of the truth of it? The picture 
 Swift has drawn of a fashionable lady, 1 now be- 
 
JOURNAL. 59 
 
 lieve verily true in every iota ; these are the peo 
 ple, and these are the manners, that my father 
 will not introduce us to ; there are a few excep 
 tions, the Marquis de la Fayette and family. I 
 have heard madame the marquise say, that she sel 
 dom went out except into her family connections. 
 I suppose the true reason is that the company she 
 would go into would be of this sort, and it would 
 not be agreeable to her. I have heard her express 
 her disapprobation of gaming, or indeed of play ; 
 even Mrs. B. is not so pleased with it as when she 
 first arrived. As an American lady, she might al 
 ways have excused herself from playing, if she 
 
 had wished it, "but," said Mrs. , "I became 
 
 fond of it, before the winter was over, and have 
 won sometimes twenty guineas of an evening." 
 Of all practices, this is to me the most detest 
 able. 
 
 There is scarce a greater offence against deli 
 cacy possible to be committed, than to go into 
 company with a little powder upon your face ; it 
 is almost the criterion of indecency ; but at the 
 same time, a lady will put an ounce or two of 
 rouge upon her face, and even think she is not 
 dressed without it. 
 
 Mr. Williams told me an anecdote. When he 
 first arrived in Paris, a friend of his accompanied 
 him to dine with a lady of his acquaintance. The 
 first thing that struck him was being introduced 
 
60 JOURNAL, 
 
 to the ladies bed-chamber, which is here as usual 
 as it is to visit. The lady was rather in a disha 
 bille, except her head which was highly dressed. 
 When dinner was served, they went into another 
 room ; after dining, they returned again to the 
 lady s bed-chamber ; a gentleman in company, 
 took from the table an orange ; while the rest of 
 the company were taking their coffee, he was eat 
 ing his orange and, unfortunately, happened to 
 put the peel upon the side of the chimney piece, 
 and after a little time went away as is usual in 
 this country, without taking leave. Sometime 
 after he was gone, the lady called her servant and 
 inquired for this gentlemen ; the servant told her 
 he had gone, but he had heard him order his ser 
 vants to drive him to such an hotel. She ordered 
 her servant to go and request the gentleman to 
 return, for she wished to see him ; in less than an 
 hour the gentleman returned, begging to know 
 her commands when she called her servant and 
 ordered him to take that orange peel away. 
 This, said Mr. W., completed my wonder and as 
 tonishment. 
 
 When I dined at Dr. Franklin s last Thursday, 
 I asked Mr. F. by whom I was seated at table, 
 whether the image in the centre of it represented 
 any particular device, as I observed a crown of 
 laurel and some figures ? he said " he believed 
 it was Love and Hymen, an old fashioned idea 
 
JOURNAL. 61 
 
 you know," said he ; " they used to talk of such 
 things in former times, but at present they know 
 better." I told him I was surprised to find it at 
 his table, I believed it was not of his choice. He 
 is strongly attached to the French. He told me 
 he preferred an English lady who had acquired 
 the graces of French manners ; which, he added, 
 were to be gained no where but at Paris that 
 was the centre, and there they were all collected 
 and resided. I believe he was here right ; there 
 is a something not to be defined, that the French 
 women possess, which, when it ornaments and 
 adorns an English lady, forms something irresisti 
 bly charming. 
 
 24th March. This is Holy Week, and to-day 
 it is, that the King and Q,ueen wash the feet of 
 twelve children, and give them a dinner ; when 
 all the princes of the blood" serve the dinner, and 
 the King and Queen tend them at table. The 
 same ceremony is performed in the churches by 
 the archbishop and the priests. We went to St. 
 Sulpice ; what a spectacle did the Church present ! 
 two hundred of the dirtiest creatures I ever be 
 held. The priests were in their robes, but shame 
 fully dirty ; they had a dozen little boys with 
 purple jackets, and purple caps, their hair shaved ; 
 then followed six or eight black friars ; they were 
 parading the Church, first into one Chapel singing 
 their service. We went down several stone steps, 
 6 
 
62 JOURNAL. 
 
 into a place they call the sepulchre ; there were 
 a number of persons at their devotions. There is 
 nothing more surprising than the manner and 
 form with which these people address the Su 
 preme Being ; I do not understand their profes 
 sions, nor do I form any judgment of it. There 
 is in this Church, a beautiful figure in white mar 
 ble of the Virgin Mary and the child Jesus in her 
 arms. It is impossible to imagine a figure with 
 more expression ; the countenance is placid, mild, 
 and sweet beyond description ; we staid as long 
 as it was possible, but came away without seeing 
 any ceremony. The churches are very disagree 
 able ; the windows are cased with iron grates ; it 
 is impossible for the sun or air to have any access ; 
 the floors are all of stone ; they are excessively 
 cold and damp ; we returned to Auteuil by the 
 grand route, as it is culled, that we might have a 
 view of the carriages at Long-Champ ; it is curi 
 ous to observe how much more attended this was, 
 than the churches. The foundation of it was 
 this ; there is a convent of women at the village 
 of Long-Champ ; they had some very fine musi 
 cians, who used to exhibit on those three days, 
 which drew a great number of persons to hear it ; 
 the convent was always open on these days, and 
 there was a great concourse of people. But in a 
 few years there began to be disturbances corn mi t- 
 ed, and the Archbishop of Paris, who is supreme 
 
JOURNAL. 63 
 
 and arbitrary, ordered the convent to discontinue 
 their custom ; but this did not induce the Parisians 
 to deprive themselves of their amusement. It has 
 continued to be very fashionable, and forms three 
 days of amusement and diversion for all Paris and 
 its environs. There were, I may venture to say, 
 a thousand carriages, and as many persons walk 
 ing and on horseback ; it was cold, and as mamma 
 intended seeing them to-morrow, we came away 
 soon, before indeed half the carriages had ar 
 rived. 
 
 Friday 25th. The weather was rather disa 
 greeable in the morning, but it cleared away and 
 permitted us to go to Long-Champ, where there 
 were the greatest collection of carriages that I 
 have ever seen ; there were none particularly 
 elegant. There were great numbers on horse 
 back ; the king s pages were all on horseback ; 
 most of them aped the English in their dress and 
 appearance, so much so, as to deceive the specta 
 tors, many of them. The beaux in this country 
 aim very much at the English dress, as the Eng 
 lish do the French ; it is the particular aim of 
 each to appear what they are not. When a 
 Frenchman is in a great dishabille, he says he is 
 a la Anglais. We joined the throng, and "drove 
 twice round the circle ; after we had seen what 
 there was to be seen, we went to take tea at Dr. 
 Franklin s with Mrs. Hewson, and passed an hour 
 
64 JOURNAL. 
 
 very agreeably. Mr. F. is always sociable, and is 
 very satirical in general. He reminds me of a 
 lady famed in this way, whom I have known in 
 America. The Dr. is always silent, unless he 
 has some diverting story to tell, of which he has 
 a great collection. Mr. F. copies him in this way, 
 and although he tells a story well, yet I do not 
 think it a pleasing trait in the character of a 
 young man it appears better in age ; it seems 
 then expressive of a desire to be agreeable 
 which in old age is not always attended to. The 
 Dr. has something so venerable in his appear 
 ance, that he inspires one with respect. I never 
 saw an old man more so. 
 
 Friday eve, March 27th. As we were sitting 
 around the fire about 9 o clock, we heard some 
 guns, which we supposed were to announce the 
 birth of a prince or princess. On Monday morn 
 ing we were informed of the birth of a prince, 
 whose title is Duke of Normandy. This is an 
 event which occasions great joy and rejoicing 
 throughout the kingdom, particularly in Paris and 
 at Versailles. 
 
 29th. Papa went to Versailles, it being Ambas 
 sador s Day ; upon such an occasion there was 
 much company. The young Duke of Normandy 
 received all the ambassadors and ministers, though 
 only two days old ; he was lying on a bed, and 
 attended by two or three ladies ; if this had hap- 
 
JOURNAL. 65 
 
 pened to have been a princess, she would have 
 been scarce noticed. The Queen is to see no 
 Company for five days, except the princesses of 
 the royal family. As soon as a prince is born, 
 he has a house, servant, carriages, horses, tutors, 
 governors and governesses, and every other at 
 tendant to him, while he, poor thing, is insensi 
 ble to every thing. The whole nation are taught 
 to look upon them as their guardians and sup 
 port. In a government such as this, where all 
 power and authority is vested in the King, it is 
 undoubtedly necessary that he should be respect 
 ed from the moment he exists, and through his 
 life. 
 
 30th. Papa dined with the Spanish Ambassador, 
 together with a number of great folks ; there was the 
 Count Deranda, a German Prince. He introduced 
 his lady, and inquired if the American ladies paint 
 ed? He was informed they did not. She said the 
 Spanish ladies never painted, and that she never 
 did unless she was going into particular French 
 company. 
 
 Yesterday Madame de la Fayette wrote a very 
 polite card to mamma, informing her that the 
 King would come to-day to the Church of Notre 
 Dame to assist in the Te Deum, which would be 
 sung in that Church, to return thanks for the 
 birth of a prince ; and to offer us places in her 
 father s tribune at the Church, and to-day we 
 6* 
 
66 JOURNAL. 
 
 went. The hour she appointed us to meet at her 
 house was two o clock ; we dined early and went. 
 From Auteuil to the Barrier we met a number of 
 people ; but from the Barrier to the Marquis , 
 and from thence to Notre Dame which was at 
 least three miles I cannot attempt to describe 
 the appearance ; every street was so crowded, that 
 had it not been for the police, which upon every 
 public occasion are as numerous as the people 
 they are obliged to be very strict it would not 
 have been possible for a carriage to have passed. 
 I believe I may say with truth there were millions 
 of people. Mr. Jefferson, who rode from the Mar 
 quis with us, supposed there were as many peo 
 ple in the streets as there were in the State of 
 Massachusetts, or any other of the States. Every 
 house was full every window and door, from the 
 bottom to the top. Before the Church there is a 
 large square, which was lined with troops, drawn 
 up in rows, and appeared very well. The Church 
 of Notre Dame is of very ancient architecture ; 
 it is the most beautiful building I have seen. 
 The churches have no pews, but are filled with 
 chairs and benches. There are a variety of chap 
 els in them, in which there always is a represen 
 tation of the Virgin Mary and the child Jesus. 
 On one side of the chapel there were seats, where 
 all the judges were seated, dressed in crimson vel 
 vet robes, and large wigs. On the other side 
 
JOURNAL. . 67 
 
 were lawyers in black habits ; their dress is much 
 the same as in our country, except that they wear 
 their hair long behind, and without being tied, 
 but waving, which is very graceful. 
 
 On one side of the altar were a number of ladies 
 of rank ; on the other side, were the ambassadors 
 and public ministers; before the altar we re placed 
 seats, and under a canopy was a crimson velvet 
 cushion, and seats all round with each a crimson 
 velvet cushion; this was for his majesty to kneel 
 upon. There were the bishops with the archbishop 
 at their head, dressed in purple robes, with skirts 
 which came as low as their knees, of the richest 
 lace. There were a number of others of a differ 
 ent order, dressed with cloaks, wrought with gold. 
 Among these was the Abbe de Bourbon, an ille 
 gitimate son of Louis 15th. He appeared to be 
 about 27 years old, a very handsome man. I ob 
 served all the gentlemen of the court paid partic 
 ular attention to him. Madame de la Fayette ob 
 served, she thought it was too magnificent, and 
 there was too much noise and bustle for the 
 Church ; she said it was not peaceful enough. I 
 was charmed with her behaviour to her com 
 pany ; the Marquis was with the King ; she 
 had to arrange the company when we went to 
 Church, which she did, paying particular attention 
 to every one. In the eve the whole city of Paris 
 was illuminated. Papa was here at the first cer- 
 
68 JOURNAL. 
 
 emony of this kind, when the first princess was 
 born. The decorations at that time were superi 
 or to this. It was impossible not to make many 
 reflections upon this august and superb ceremony, 
 and upon the sentiments the people discovered 
 for their King. But in this government I should 
 judge it was right and necessary. If the man 
 who has the whole kingdom at his disposal, is not 
 respected, and thought of next to their God, he 
 will not long sustain his power. And however 
 wrong it may be, it is unavoidable. 
 
 April 2d. Mrs. Hewston and Mr. Franklin 
 came and drank tea with us. We went in the 
 eve to the Concert Spirituel, which is open while 
 the theatres are all shut; and upon some of the 
 fetes, it is somewhat triste. The music is called 
 good. There is some part of all the vocal music 
 that I have heard, since I have been in this coun 
 try, that sounds to my ear like overstraining the 
 voice, and has upon me an unpleasant effect. 
 I am told it is because I am not a connoisseur 
 that it does not please me, for it is the height 
 of perfection. That I am not a connoisseur is a 
 truth ; nor will I pretend to decide upon the jus 
 tice of other people s tastes, because my own does 
 not accord with them. I saw many things that 
 would have appeared very strange, had I met 
 with them a few months since. I am accustomed 
 
JOURNAL. 69 
 
 to many things at present, but I am not recon 
 ciled to them. 
 
 4th April. Dined to-day with the Marquis de 
 la Fayette our circle of Americans diminishes 
 daily there were a number of French gentle 
 men, most of whom had been in America, and 
 spoke English ; General Armand, Capt. la Tonch, 
 and Col. G., who I believe lives at the Marquis . 
 
 General A. speaks very highly of our state, and 
 of Boston in particular ; most foreigners give the 
 preference to Boston, to all parts of the United 
 States, at least they tell us so ; and why should we 
 not believe them in an instance so favourable to 
 ourselves? If they do not speak the sentiments 
 of their hearts, it is their own fault ; but I believe 
 this gentleman was sincere. He observed that 
 there was an ostentatious show of hospitality in 
 the Southern States ; but he found the reality in 
 Boston. He went there a stranger and without 
 money ; many of the merchants loaned him 
 money, upon his word only, that he would repay 
 it. 
 
 Madame de la Fayette discovered her usual at 
 tachment to the Marquis and her children. The 
 Marquis had ordered that the children should not 
 be presented, supposing that the attention paid to 
 them, rather a compliment to him and his lady, 
 than any real pleasure the company could possi 
 bly derive from their presence ; but mamma re- 
 
70 JOURNAL. 
 
 quested they might be introduced, and they came. 
 
 April 7th. To-day we had a small company 
 to dine : Mr. West, who gains our good opinion 
 daily, as a man of sense, and possessed of many 
 agreeable qualities. Mrs. Hewsten has been with 
 Dr. F. all winter ; she is a sensible woman. The 
 Dr. addressed some of his philosophical letters to 
 this lady. He boarded with her mother in Eng 
 land, and has continued to preserve a great esteem 
 for Mrs. Hewsten. Her manners are neither mas 
 culine nor affected ; but she laughs too much to 
 please me ; she leaves France next week, to return 
 to England. 
 
 8th. Mamma and myself went to Paris, and 
 
 called on Mrs. , who goes in a few days to 
 
 London. I could not but regret her leaving Paris, 
 although I have seen but little of her, yet I never 
 see her without feeling a degree of regard for her. 
 She is most sweetly amiable, possessed of a great 
 share of sensibility : had she married a man of 
 sense and judgment, who would have endeavour 
 ed to turn her attention to something more impor 
 tant than dress and show, and recommended them 
 only as ornaments to adorn good sense, and an 
 improved mind, she would have shown with dis 
 tinguished lustre, in every point of view ; for even 
 now, she is possessed of many qualifications to 
 make her beloved and respected. I have not 
 formed such an opinion of Mr. . I am mista- 
 
JOURNAL. 71 
 
 ken if he does not lack some essential qualifica 
 tions to make him either respected or admired. 
 
 The Marquis de la Fayette, has received some 
 letters from America, respecting a son of General 
 Green s, who is coming to France to be educated 
 with the Marquis son George. The Marquis 
 says it his intention to send his son, when he is 
 fitted to be educated, at Harvard College. Col. H. 
 told him to-day, that he was not pleased with the 
 idea, that some of the principal people in America 
 should send their children to France for their ed 
 ucation my papa adds, that every person ought 
 to be educated in the country in which they are to 
 live, and of which they are a part, and in a com 
 munity of which they are a member. Mr. D. also 
 conversed upon the salaries, arid manner of living, 
 of the ambassadors at this court. The Spanish 
 Ambassador, he said, had an hundred persons in 
 his house fifty servants in livery, and keeps 
 thirty horses. The Duke of Dorset, Ambassador 
 from England, has fifty servants, twenty of them 
 in livery. 
 
 May 10th, 1785. Papa went to Versailles to 
 day, and took his leave of this court ; he has been 
 appointed to England. Mr. Jeiferson succeeds 
 him here. 
 
 llth, Wednesday. According to the polite in 
 vitation of the Baron de Stael, Ambassador from 
 Sweden, we dined with him to-day; he is a very 
 
72 JOURNAL. 
 
 handsome man, a good figure, and tolerable com 
 plexion ; his eyes are animated ; his manners are 
 pleasing. It is the custom in this country to have 
 a suit of rooms all open for the reception of your 
 company, ail equally elegantly furnished. The 
 ambassador received us at the door of the anti- 
 chamber, and conducted us to the other room, 
 where he introduced to us a young Swede, a 
 Baron, who had served two years in America, in 
 the French army. He spoke English surprisingly 
 well. The dinner was studiedly simple and ele 
 gant it was served in plate the knives, forks, 
 and spoons of gold. 
 
 May 9th, 1785 Auteuil, near Paris. When we 
 came from the Marquis to-day, where we had 
 dined, as papa had business with Mr. Jefferson, 
 he went in the carriage with Mr. W. and Mr. 
 Short. Messieurs Jar vis and Randal went with 
 mamma and myself. While the former was in a 
 shop making some purchase, Mr. R. and myself 
 had a learned dissertation upon blushing, which 
 arose from a girl passing by the carriage with a 
 veil on, which are very common in the streets 
 here, made of lawn, silk, or gauze, and worn in 
 stead of a hat or bonnet. The latter is a thing I 
 never have seen in France. Mr. R. observed that 
 the blush of innocence was a better veil. I said, 
 there were few of those known in Paris. He in 
 quired if they had any word in the French Ian- 
 
JOURNAL. 73 
 
 guage expressive of innocence ? There is not 
 any other word but innocence, and it is almost 
 without a use here. I said, it was a very painful 
 sensation I thought it a great advantage to be 
 exempt from it ; he was not of this opinion. Mr. 
 J. who had been in the shop, came to the door of 
 the carriage ; Mr. R. told him of our conversation, 
 upon which commenced the dissertation. Mr. J. 
 decided not agreeably to my opinion or belief, that 
 we never blushed but from the consciousness of 
 something wrong in what was said or done, that 
 caused the blush. I do not believe it ; a person 
 so subject to blush as myself, should be interested 
 in removing every idea of evil from it. When 
 we had finished our business we went to Mr. Jef 
 ferson s, where I saw Miss J., a most amiable girl. 
 Mr. J. has not dined out these four or five months, 
 partly from choice. If he could discriminate, he 
 would sometimes favour us with his company. 
 From thence we went to see the abbes, and to take 
 leave of them. I have not seen them since the 
 death of the Abbe de Mably ; they were cheerful, 
 but their loss is great. I can truly say, that in 
 coming away from the house, I felt more regret 
 in the prospect of leaving France than I have ever 
 before ; they are two such good old men that one 
 feels for them the respect, veneration, and esteem, 
 that we should for a relation, who was thus ad 
 vanced. 
 
 7 
 
74 JOURNAL. 
 
 As we came home, we called upon Madame 
 Helvetius, who has been very sick lately. We 
 were admitted, as it was, to take leave. From the 
 dining-room you enter a large saloon, which was 
 furnished in the French style, a number of 
 chairs, settees, and pictures ; in the centre was a 
 marble table, on which was a set of china, some 
 images, and in the middle, a large circle with earth, 
 a number of lilacs and other flowers, which re 
 sembled a little forest, and was very pretty. From 
 this we were shown to the ladies chamber, which 
 is large and handsomely furnished. Madame Hel 
 vetius was sitting upon a settee covered up as a 
 bed, quite at her ease ; her dress was as usual. 
 She was attended by the abbe and her doctor. 
 Her great dog, which Mr. Franklin brought from 
 England, was resting before her, and the lap-dog 
 upon the settee ; upon the table, under a glass, 
 was a monument erected to the memory of her 
 husband, over which hung his picture, which was 
 very handsome. Madame H. appears to have 
 been a very beautiful woman, when young. A 
 French lady compared her to the ruins of Palmyra. 
 After we had passed half an hour we came away, 
 bidding her adieu. 
 
 My father went to Versailles to-day, and took 
 his leave of this court. Madame, the Marquise 
 de la Fayette, with her son and daughter, came 
 out to tea. She was obliged to return to Paris at 
 
JOURNAL. 75 
 
 a certain hour, on account of her son, who has 
 lately a pension. In such a flying visit, no one 
 can expect any degree of sociability, or to form an 
 acquaintance with each other s disposition or man 
 ners When Madame took leave of us, she saluted 
 each, mamma arid myself; lately she has taken 
 this liberty, when meeting or parting. It is so 
 much the custom, with the ladies of this country, 
 that I believe they feel rather awkward to meet 
 or part with those to whom it is unknown. The 
 ladies kiss each other, and the gentlemen the same. 
 It seems a curious custom to those who are not 
 used to it, and caused some observation this after 
 noon. 
 
 Friday, May 13th. This morning, his grace the 
 Duke of Dorset called upon my father, with a let 
 ter to the custom-house officer at Dover, to permit 
 us to pass unsearched. He has been very polite 
 and friendly in his offers of any assistance that 
 it was in his power to offer, in a public or private 
 character. He informed my father to-day, that 
 mamma and myself must be presented to the 
 Queen. It was a point of etiquette not possible 
 to be dispensed with ; this I am very sorry to hear. 
 It is an houour that I would wish to be released 
 from. 
 
 Sunday, May 15th. This morning before nine, 
 we were in our carriage on our way to Ver 
 sailles. To-day is the fete of Penticost, upon which 
 
76 JOURNAL. 
 
 the knights of the order, Cordon Bleu, make their 
 procession ; and if there are any to be created, 
 they are received upon this fete ; but there were 
 none to-day. Every Sunday is a great day at 
 Versailles ; but upon these fetes there are more 
 people than usual. 
 
 When we arrived, we entered one of the courts 
 before the palace, in front of which was the 
 king s bed-chamber, and from which there was an 
 entrance into the garden, to which we went first. 
 It is large, well arranged, and clean the most 
 elegant place I have seen since I have been in 
 this country. There are a great number of statues 
 of various kinds ; some in white marble, others 
 in bronze ; but I had not time to view them par 
 ticularly or generally. There were a number of 
 water-works playing, which are very pretty. 
 There is a piece of water that has the appear 
 ance of a small river, but which is all conveyed 
 by pipes from the river Seine. Our time was so 
 short, that we had not an opportunity to take 
 even a general view of this garden, every part of 
 which deserves attention. From hence we went 
 into the gallery, which is open every Sunday for 
 all the world ; and apartments from it to the 
 Chapel. The gallery is long there is a great 
 deal of looking-glass in it, and painting upon the 
 ceiling, which to my taste is the most improper 
 place in a building to put paintings ; yet there 
 
JOURNAL. 77 
 
 are few public buildings where there are any 
 paintings, without a number upon the ceiling 
 which in general is arched. The next was 
 an apartment which was so full, there was scarce 
 any possibility of passing through ; there were 
 two other apartments very large and filled with 
 persons, before we arrived at the one where the 
 throne was ; in this I was more disappointed than 
 in any of the others. In the apartment where the 
 throne of the King of France was, the architec 
 ture was ancient, and there were several pictures, 
 one of Louis XV, and another of his queen. From 
 this we went through two others before we enter 
 ed the gallery of the Chapel ; here were a number 
 of guards no one could enter without their per 
 mission. By their having the Cross of St. Louis, 
 I supposed they were noblemen. We had not 
 been apprized of this ceremony, and therefore had 
 no places engaged. It was impossible to obtain 
 a front seat ; it was a great favour we obtained any. 
 The guards were as polite as possible, and grant 
 ed as much favour as their situations allowed. 
 The knights of the Cordon Bleu all came in, and 
 took their seats on one side of the altar, very ele 
 gantly dressed ; the blue ribbons across the shoul 
 der, and over their coats a blue cloak, with a star 
 embroiderd on the left side. The lady who goes 
 round to collect the money in a small velvet purse, 
 entered the Church. She was more elegantly 
 7* 
 
78 JOURNAL. 
 
 dressed than any other person. After the king had 
 entered, she went round to the knights, and with 
 a courtesey the most graceful, presented her little 
 purse to each. I am sure no one could have refused 
 putting a louis in. The poor might perhaps, with 
 more reason, thank her appearance, than bless the 
 generosity of the donors. But why should I put 
 this construction? I am sure I have no right to. 
 The queen did not appear to-day. There was in 
 the gallery only Madame la Comptesse D Artois, 
 and Madame Elizabeth, sister to the king. She 
 seemed very attentive to the mass, and paid very 
 little attention to any thing but her book. 
 
 We then left the gallery of the Church to go to 
 the king s gallery, where all the knights returned 
 and followed by his majesty and his two brothers. 
 
 London, June 1st, 1785. To-day my father 
 went with Lord Carmarthen to the Palace, where 
 he found many gentlemen, known to him before. 
 Lord C. introduced him to his majesty, George 
 III. Papa made his speech when he presented 
 his letter; his majesty was affected and said, 
 " Sir, your words have been so proper, upon this 
 occasion, that I cannot but say I am gratified that 
 you are the man chosen to be the Minister." 
 
 June 4th. This is the anniversary of his majes 
 ty s birth; consequently there was a Levee at 
 St. James. On this day their majesties speak to 
 every person present. The King speaks first to 
 
JOURNAL. 79 
 
 the Foreign Ministers. He conversed a quarter of 
 an hour with the Spanish Minister, upon music, 
 of which he said he was passionately fond, par 
 ticularly of Handel s ; he respected the memory of 
 Handel, for he owed to him the greatest happiness 
 of his life, and observed that Handel had said of 
 him when young, " that young man will preserve 
 my music." My father observed that he had never 
 heard any thing like conversation at court before. 
 One of the Ambassadors who had attended at the 
 French court 30 years, said, Monsieur the king s 
 brother, had asked every time he had been to 
 court, which was generally every Tuesday, " have 
 you come from Paris to-day ?" and no other ques 
 tion. 
 
 September 2d. About twelve o clock, Mrs. 
 Smith from Clapham, and Miss B. called upon 
 us. Mamma was just dressing, so I had to appear. 
 Miss B. began to question me, as to which coun 
 try I liked best, France or England? I would 
 not give a preference. "But you undoubtedly pre 
 fer England to America?" " I must indeed con 
 fess, Miss, that I do not at present." Was it possi 
 ble ! I acknowledged the excellencies of this coun 
 try. There was more to please and gratify the 
 senses ; but I had formed such friendships and at 
 tachments in America, as would ever render it dear 
 to me. " But surely, the culture is carried to a 
 much greater degree of perfection here than in 
 
80 JOURNAL. 
 
 America." " Granted." " And you must," said 
 Miss B. very pertly, "find a great difference be 
 tween America and this country?" "In what, 
 pray, Miss?" said 1. "Why in the general ap 
 pearance, in the people, their manners, customs, 
 behaviour, and in every thing." " Indeed," said 
 I, "I do not; there is so great a similarity in 
 the manners of the people, in the two coun 
 tries, that I should take them for one. If any 
 thing, I find a greater degree of politeness and 
 civility in America, than in the people of this 
 country. And the lower class of people in Amer 
 ica, are infinitely superior to the lower class of 
 people here." Their astonishment was great was 
 it possible I could think so! Surely the distress 
 ing war had been an impediment to all improve 
 ment and education. Dr. Bancroft came in, and 
 passed an hour. After he had gone, we had some 
 conversation upon the pictures below. Papa said 
 they were spoiled ; he was not at all content with 
 his own, yet thought it the best that had ever 
 been taken of him. No one had yet caught his 
 character. The ruling principles in his moral 
 character, were candour, probity, and decision. 
 I think he discovered more knowledge of himself 
 than usually falls to the lot of man ; for, from my 
 own observation, I think these are characteristic 
 of him ; and I add another, which is sensibility. 
 I have never discovered a greater portion of can- 
 
JOURNAL. 81 
 
 dour in any character. I hope if I inherit any of 
 his virtues it may be this ; it is a necessary at 
 tendant through life. In whatever intercourse we 
 have with society, we find it necessary in a greater 
 or less degree ; and in the mind of a woman, I 
 esteem it particularly amiable. 
 
 November 3d. We attended the drawing-room 
 for the third time. At two o clock we went, and 
 were in season. There were most of the Foreign 
 Ministers present, but not their ladies. All hough 
 I have seen them all, I do not know many of them. 
 Their majesties came about three o clock. 
 There were not many ladies or gentlemen the 
 Prince of Wales, the Princess Royal and Princess 
 Augusta accompanied their majesties. There were 
 present more handsome women than I had seen be 
 fore. Lady Stormont is the handsomest woman I 
 have seen in Europe. When she conversed, her air 
 and manner was graceful, dignified, modest, and 
 charming. The king, queen, and prince had a 
 great deal to say to her, particularly the latter ; 
 he talked with most of the Foreign Ministers 
 whom he knew, and is, I think, a handsome man. 
 Of the princesses, I am most pleased with the 
 person, manners, and deportment, of the Princess 
 Royal; there is dignity, grace, and affability, with 
 a certain degree of steadiness which I like, in her 
 manners. 
 
 There are two characters the very opposite to 
 
82 JOURNAL. 
 
 each other, both pleasing to me ; and a woman 
 to be agreeable must possess either one or the oth 
 er. The sprightliness, vivacity, animation of a 
 French woman, that will inspire every one who 
 sees her with the same spirit, or a sedate thought 
 ful manner, animated and dignified. Lady Stor- 
 mont possesses the latter. Although I am pleased 
 for the time with the former, yet I approve most of 
 the last, as it is best calculated to support with dig 
 nity and propriety, every situation to which we are 
 subject in human life. Persons sometimes mistake 
 their own characters, and endeavour to appear 
 the one, when the other would best become them. 
 There are an immense number who belong to 
 neither, nor can by their utmost exertions acquire 
 either. 
 
 Lady C. and daughter were remarkable, not 
 for their beauty, but for the elegance of their dress. 
 The lady made herself conspicuous, by the extreme 
 anxiety to have her daughter spoken to by the 
 prince; but all her efforts were ineffectual. He 
 stood and conversed an hour next her, with Lady 
 Stormont, but made no effort to speak to Miss C. 
 We returned home at five. The Chevalier de 
 Pinto, the Portuguese Minister, spent an hour or 
 two with my father. I wrote for the latter. I think 
 the Secretary must be out of his senses to remain 
 so long from his duty. 
 
 December llth.li We called upon Mrs. Jebb, 
 
JOURNAL. 83 
 
 where mamma, the Doctor, and Mrs. Jebb, had 
 such a dish of politics as suited all their tastes. 
 The Doctor is very much interested in America, 
 and solicitous for her welfare ; at least he seems so, 
 nay more than seems. Mrs. Jebb is very earnest 
 and equally anxious. I am diverted when she 
 makes inquiries of me, about politics, who never 
 thought, or talked of them in my life ; but she does 
 not find me very intelligent on the subject, conse 
 quently she will not have a very high opinion of 
 me, I suppose ; and I do not find that my happi 
 ness is in any \vay dependent upon that. 
 
 14th. My father presented Col. H. at court to 
 day. He seemed to think his majesty, George 
 the Third, much like the rest of the world. Col. 
 H. went to make his visits to all the Foreign Min 
 isters how much time it is necessary to spend 
 in trifles yet I do not know why one trifle is not 
 as important as another, and I begin to think our 
 whole lives nothing else. The gentlemen dined 
 at Mr. Paradise s, and afterwards went to the 
 Royal Society. They called upon us about nine, 
 and passed an agreeable hour. I have daily more 
 and more reason to observe the very great impor 
 tance of early education, and the necessity of 
 forming the first habits with propriety. If this is 
 riot attended to, you see a man s whole life stain 
 ed and spoiled, by habits and customs, which bear 
 some resemblance to vulgarity. Col. H. is one 
 
84 JOURNAL. 
 
 instance of this. I do not know what his early 
 education was, but from some things that mark 
 his conversation now. I will not draw a compar 
 ison between him and his friend, although the ad 
 vantage would be on the side I wish ; yet as the 
 former has many excellencies, let them cover the 
 foibles, or rather inaccuracies which may appear. 
 
 23d June. My father returned from Windsor, 
 highly pleased with his visit, and particularly 
 with Mr. Herschel. The evening being cloudy, 
 there was no star-gazing, or observing the moon, 
 which was the object of the visit. My father rep 
 resents Mr. Herschel to be a man, whose attention 
 to study does not render him silent or absent, but 
 as a cheerful and intelligent companion ; com 
 municative of his knowledge, and very agreeable. 
 Indeed I have never known him so much grati 
 fied by a visit of any kind before. 
 
 Many, many are the ups and downs of the spir 
 its. It is said, in a multitude of counsel there is 
 safety; but I say, that in a variety of opinions 
 there is perplexity. 
 
 1787, 20th July. This day, three years ago, 
 we landed on this island from America. 
 
 We set our faces towards Plymouth, and lodged 
 at Winchester. 
 
 Sunday, 22d. My father went to the Cathedral 
 in the morning. This town was the residence of 
 King Charles, and here are the remains of the 
 
JOURNAL. 85 
 
 castle built by him. They relate to you a num 
 ber of anecdotes respecting him. 
 
 There was in the twelfth century, a Sieur de 
 Quincy, who was created Earl of Winchester, 
 by King John. The history mentions that in the 
 thirteenth century, the family became extinct, and 
 the title was given to Lord de Spencer. Sieur de 
 Q,uincy was one who signed Magna Charta. 
 My father supposes the Q,uincys in America to 
 have descended from him, and was solicitous to 
 trace the descent ; he may be better acquainted 
 with the importance of it than I am. To me it 
 appears quite a matter of small consequence. 
 We can all trace our descent from Adam, and no 
 one can go beyond him. 
 
 26th. We arrived at Axminster ; it is the first 
 town in the county of Devonshire. We have 
 come through Surry, Hunt, Hampshire, Wiltshire, 
 and Dorsetshire. 
 
 Mr. Cranch soon waited upon us, and brought 
 me a most acceptable present, two letters from my 
 absent friend at Madrid. 
 
 27th. We concluded to pass this day here, 
 being very well accommodated with apartments. 
 Mr. Cranch engaged to dine with us, and came 
 to attend us to take a view of the manufactories 
 of this place, which are of carpet and tape. We 
 then visited the Church, which is very old ; the 
 paintings and monuments were miserable, except 
 8 
 
86 JOURNAL. 
 
 one, of which Mr. Cranch had the direction ; it 
 is to the memory of a lady ; the device represents 
 the dove taking the veil from the urn which con 
 tains her ashes. Mr. C. dined with us, and re 
 quested we would take tea at his cottage ; he 
 came at six to attend us. He lives in a small, 
 neat cottage ; every thing around him has an air 
 of taste, united with neatness. He has a variety 
 of small prints, the heads of many eminent per 
 sons, and the six prints, Hogarth s representation 
 of la marriage a la mode. He has also a painting 
 of Sir Walter Raleigh, which is thought an origi 
 nal picture ; it was lately left, by an old gentle 
 man who died, to the British Museum. Mr. C. 
 says he has a great inclination never to deliver 
 it ; he thinks it ought to be preserved sacred in 
 this county, because its original was born here in 
 the parish of Baidley, and that Sir Walter s cha 
 racter stands very high throughout the county of 
 Devonshire. Papa observed that his character 
 did not appear unexceptionable ; he answered 
 that none of his faults were known here ; they be 
 lieved only in his virtues and excellencies. 
 
 We left Axminster at nine in the morning; 
 Mr. Cranch took a seat in the post-chaise with 
 papa ; mamma rode in the coach. The road 
 continues very mountainous to Honiton, a stage 
 of ten miles from Axminster ; just before you 
 enter the former, there is a valley which is much 
 
JOURNAL. 87 
 
 admired for its fertility and beauty. The latter 
 part of the road answers Mr. Boylston s descrip 
 tion that the roads were cut or worn down many 
 feet, and the hedges so thick and so high, that one 
 had no prospect of the country around which is 
 the case. Mr. Cranch bore these inconveniences 
 with but little patience ; he pulled down walls. 
 and tore gates up from hinges, bolts and bars, like 
 a Samson. 
 
 These persons were all delighted to see us, and 
 the sincerity of their professions are indubitable. 
 Mr. Bowering in particular, expressed his respect 
 for my father ; he said he was a man of no cere 
 mony, but he hoped he should not find him de 
 ficient in sincerity. He offered us some cherries 
 from his garden, and upon mamma s saying they 
 were the best of the kind she had tasted, he ex 
 pressed his satisfaction, and said, " if they were 
 golden cherries, she would be welcome to them." 
 It is a great satisfaction to be thus esteemed ; and 
 this kind of undisguised respect and sincerity is 
 extremely grateful to the heart. 
 
 Exeter. My father has gone this morning with 
 Mr. Bowering, to call on Mr. Twogood, who was 
 formerly the dissenting minister in this place, but 
 is now so old as to be unable to perform the du 
 ties of his former station, and has retired. These 
 people are all dissenters; I believe all the dis- 
 
88 JOURNAL. 
 
 senters in this country, have been in favour of the 
 American cause. 
 
 In the neighbourhood of Plymouth, we vis 
 ited the seat of Lord Edgcomb. Mount Edg- 
 comb is a peninsula formed by a ridge of rocks, 
 which connects it with the town of Stonehouse. 
 The lawn by which one ascends to the house, 
 contains 60 acres ; on each side are large rows of 
 trees, of chestnut and ash. The house stands 
 upon the side of a hill ; it is old, and built upon 
 a very small, contracted scale, and before the 
 family was ennobled. I do not believe, from the 
 appearance of things around, that this event has 
 enlarged their minds. One circumstance had a 
 very singular effect upon mine ; which was, that 
 when we landed we observed a good natured 
 looking man, who I supposed to have been some 
 servant of Lord Edgcomb s, placed there to give 
 directions to those who might visit his seat, until 
 he very civilly accosted us, desiring we would 
 pay our passage, which was two pence each per 
 son, and informed us that he payed Lord Edgcomb 
 400 guineas a year for this situation, and that the 
 perquisites of it amounted to 700, and observed it 
 took a great many two pences to yield this sum. 
 He owns all the boats which are kept on this 
 side. The grounds contain 600 acres, the park 
 300, which lies wholly uncultivated ; it was 
 stored with the finest deer 1 have seen ; they 
 
JOURNAL. 89 
 
 were the forest deer, and much larger than those 
 in Hyde Park. 
 
 3d. August. Mr. Cranch, who is very fond of 
 walking, and thinks twenty or thirty miles a day 
 necessary for a sedentary life, and who talks often 
 miles as a morning or evening airing, invited us 
 to take a walk round the town, and upon some of 
 the eminences which command extensive pros 
 pects. 
 
 12th. Bristol. We visited Lord Clifford s 
 grounds ; they are bounded on one side by the 
 river Severn, and on the other by the Avon ; they 
 form the point of land between these two rivers ; 
 in some places they are six or seven miles across. 
 The gardener could not inform us how many acres 
 they contained, but said they produced six or 
 seven thousand a year. This place has more nat 
 ural beauties than any I have yet seen ; it is kept 
 in good order, and possesses the four requisites to 
 render it perfect lawn, upland, wood, and water. 
 There is a curious hermitage made of the roots of 
 trees, which was designed by the present Lady 
 Clifford. We returned to Bristol much delighted 
 with our visit. 
 
 Oxford. In the afternoon we took a guide, and 
 went to see the Colleges. First, the Bodleian Li 
 brary, and Picture Gallery. The latter is fur 
 nished with valuable portraits of the founder and 
 benefactors, and of other eminent men, as also 
 8* 
 
90 JOURNAL. 
 
 with cabinets of medals, and cases of books ; 
 about the middle of it stands a noble statue in 
 brass, of Philip, Earl of Pembroke, designed by 
 Rubens. This room is a continuation of the 
 Bodleian Library ; under it are the schools of the 
 several sciences. 
 
 The Bodleian, or Public Library, is a part of 
 the above mentioned edifice ; the vestibule, or 
 first gallery, was built by Sir Thomas Bodley, 
 who furnished the whole, with a collection made 
 with great care; he likewise assigned an estate 
 for the maintenance of a librarian, adding a body 
 of statutes for the regulation of his new institu 
 tion, by which he justly deserved the name of the 
 founder of the library. He died January 28th, 
 1612. 
 
 We then visited New College, which was foun 
 ded by William of Wykeham. and finished 1385. 
 In this college in the ante-chapel, there are some 
 fine paintings upon glass, designed by Sir Joshua 
 Reynolds, and executed by Mr. Jarvis ; it con 
 tains seven allegorical figures, representing the 
 four cardinal, and three Christian virtues. Tem 
 perance pouring water out of a larger vessel into 
 a smaller ; her common attribute, the bridle, lies 
 at her feet. Fortitude in armour, her head rest 
 ing on a broken column, her form robust, her look 
 bold and resolute, a lion her attendant. Faith 
 standing fixedly on both feet, and bearing a cross, 
 her eyes and hands raised to heaven. Hope 
 
JOURNAL. 91 
 
 looking up to the same heaven, and springing 
 so eagerly towards it, that her feet scarce 
 touch the ground ; part of an anchor her emblem. 
 
 Justice looking with a steady and piercing eye, 
 through the dark shade that her arm casts over 
 her face, in her left hand she holds the steelyard, 
 her right supports the sword. 
 
 Prudence beholding as in a mirror, the actions 
 and manners of others, for the purpose of regula 
 ting her own ; on her left arm an arrow joined 
 with a Remora, the respective emblems of swift 
 ness and slowness. Prudence being a medium 
 between both. 
 
 The middle group, representing Charity, is wor 
 thy of particular notice ; the fondling of the in 
 fant, the importunity of the boy, and the placid 
 affection of the girl, together with the decided af 
 fection of the mother ; are judiciously marked 
 with that knowledge of character which is con 
 spicuous in the works of the eminent artist who 
 gave the design. 
 
 As a basis to the great work, in a space of eighteen 
 feet long and ten wide, is represented the nativity 
 of Christ, a composition of thirteen human figures. 
 
 From New College we went to Queen s College, 
 founded by Robert Eglesfel, confessor to Queen 
 Philippa, A. D. 1340. It is confined to the reception 
 of scholars from Cumberland and Westmoreland. 
 
 Thursday, 16th. We dined early and went to 
 Blenheim, the seat of the Duke of Marlborough. 
 
92 JOURNAL. 
 
 It is about ten miles from Oxford. The hall is a 
 magnificent apartment, it extends to the height 
 of the house, and is supported by Corinthian pillars. 
 The ceiling was painted by Sir James Thornhill, 
 allegorically representing Victory crowning John 
 Duke of Marlborough, and pointing to the plan 
 of the battle of Blenheim. The library is one 
 hundred and eighty-three feet long ; the Doric pi 
 lasters of marble, with the complete columns of 
 the same, which support a rich entablature ; the 
 window frames of dark mahogany ; the surround 
 ing basement of black marble, are in the highest 
 taste and finish. It was originally intended as a 
 gallery for paintings, but the late justly lamented 
 Duke added utility to elegance ; having furnished 
 it with the noble collection of books made by Lord 
 Sunderland, his grace s father. Their number is 
 said to amount to 24,000 volumes, which have 
 been allowed to be worth 30,000, and are said 
 to be the best private collection in England ; they 
 are kept under gilt wire lattices. At one end of 
 the room is a highly finished statue of Queen 
 Anne, with this inscription : 
 
 To THE MEMORY OF QUEEN ANNE, 
 
 UNDER WHOSE AUSPICES, 
 JOHN, DUKE OF MARLBOROUGH, 
 
 CONQUERED; 
 
 AND TO WHOSE MUNIFICENCE, HE AND HIS POSTERITY, 
 
 WITH GRATITUDE, 
 OWE THE POSSESSION OF BLENHEIM. 
 
JOURNAL. 93 
 
 The gardens are spacious, and include a great 
 variety of prospects ; the noble descent on the 
 southwest side ; the vastness and beauty of the 
 water ; the grandeur of the opposite bank ; the 
 cascade, new bridge, and lower piece of water ; 
 form altogether such an assemblage of beautiful 
 objects, as are perhaps no where else to be 
 found. The gardens on the south side seem 
 to lose themselves in the park, amidst a pro 
 fusion of venerable oaks, and intersected avenues ; 
 from whence they derive an air of confusion and 
 indeterminate extent, which is very pleasing. 
 
 These gardens have been enlarged, and were 
 thrown into the form they now wear, by the pre 
 sent Duke of Marlborough; he has likewise beau 
 tified them, by the addition of some judicious or 
 naments. The gardener has lived on the place 
 twenty-five years, and feels himself entitled to 
 make his own remarks, and offers them, with more 
 wit than modesty. 
 
 These heights command a variety of beautiful 
 and extensive prospects of the sea and land. We 
 numbered ninety vessels of all kinds, within one 
 view. But after all, neither Mount Edgcomb nor 
 Plymouth, or any other place that I have seen in 
 Europe, will bear a comparison with Milton Hill ;* 
 some might call this prejudice, perhaps it is ; our 
 attendant told us that the fortifications were only 
 
 * Near Boston. 
 
94 JOURNAL. 
 
 for ornament, not strength ; they are built of stone 
 instead of earth, 
 
 Our walk yesterday of four miles, and the 
 warmth of the weather, rendered the present ex 
 cursion rather fatiguing. 
 
 London, Nov. 1787. We had a representation of 
 seven states to-day at dinner. Messrs. Hindman 
 and Forrest from Maryland, Mr. Shippen from 
 Pennsylvania, Mr. Brackstone from Virginia, Mr. 
 Edwards from Carolina ; Mr. Trumbull from 
 Connecticut, Colonel Smith from New- York, Mr. 
 Cutting and ourselves from Massachusetts. 
 
 We received an account of the result of the 
 Convention, entitled the Constitution, which is 
 recommended by them to the consideration of the 
 states, for their approbation and adoption. My 
 father approves of it in general ; some persons 
 would have preferred a system that would have 
 given us more consequence in the eyes of foreign 
 ers. The powers they have given to the President 
 are equal to those of many monarchs. 
 
 I do not pretend to be a judge of this subject ; but 
 it appears to me, that we are not yet prepared for 
 such a system. The principles of equality which 
 we yet possess, would not admit of one person s 
 being made so distinguished, as the name alone 
 of a king would have done ; besides, we have no 
 person who possesses sufficient fortune, to render 
 him respectable ; for to me it appears, that in a 
 monarchy, power and riches are important requi- 
 
JOURNAL. 95 
 
 sites, and the people of our country would never 
 consent to contribute to the elevation of any person 
 to so high a dignity. They chouse to preserve 
 the idea, that every one may aspire to the highest 
 offices of the state. 
 
 Saturday, 3d. Mr. Jennings dined with us. 
 Every person appears much gratified with our Con 
 stitution ; and the accounts from America are fa 
 vourable for its reception and adoption by the 
 states, which give their friends on this side of the 
 water much pleasure. Many persons say here, 
 that they have followed my father s plan, and 
 taken his book for their model. The ill-wishers 
 to America say it is too good for them to adopt. 
 
 Notwithstanding a bad cold, I wrapped myself 
 up, and went to the play, to see Mrs. Abington as 
 Belinda, in All in the Wrong. The characters 
 were well supported ; I think I never saw a part 
 better performed than Lady Restless. Messrs. 
 Shippen, Cutting, and Trumble, were in our box. 
 
 I confess I am not an admirer of Mrs. Abington ; 
 she is much celebrated, but is not to my taste ; she 
 is now sixty years old, and no one would suppose 
 her more than three and twenty. She is not to 
 be compared to Miss Farren, whose easy, graceful, 
 affable manner of doing every thing is charming. 
 But Mrs. A. is the fashion, or has been some 
 twenty years past, and still preserves her theatri 
 cal fame. 
 
 Thursday, 30th. Mamma and myself concluded 
 
96 JOURNAL. 
 
 to take my son to-morrow morning, and go out 
 fourteen miles to meet his father, but I was most 
 agreeably disappointed at his presenting himself 
 about two o clock ; finding no inconvenience from 
 moving rapidly, he came on much faster than he 
 had any idea of being able to ; although he had 
 concealed from me his long and tedious illness. 
 But thanks to that Being who sustains, supports, 
 and regulates us through this life, he is again re 
 stored to health and to his family. To describe the 
 sensations of the mind upon this occasion were 
 vain ; from the memory they can never be erased. 
 
97 
 
 LINES, 
 
 Addressed in 1S38, to a Portrait of Mrs. SMITH, taken by Copley 
 in 1787. 
 
 Sweet lady ! one could gaze for aye 
 
 Upon thy likeness; purity itself looks out 
 
 From the still depths of those blue eyes 
 
 Where love and gentleness seem mingled into one. 
 
 There is an angel sweetness round thy face, 
 
 Such as we dream of for a fairer world 
 
 And a smile, too, as innocent and bright 
 
 As Paradise beheld, when Eve first saw 
 
 The golden sunlight and the fresh young flowers. 
 
 Methinks, too, thou wilt speak, and I d fain hear 
 
 What gentle words those lips would murmur, 
 
 That seem to prison up some tender speech 
 
 To melt the heart when uttered. 
 
 All silent 
 
 Ah! tis but the semblance of thyself, fair lady ; 
 Thy beauteous form is faded, and thy spirit 
 All angelic, now is disenthralled of clay ; 
 Yet do thy virtues, purity and love, 
 Fresh and undimm d, like this sweet portrait, live 
 In those whose hearts are warm d with blood from thine, 
 Whose souls have caught thy gentleness, 
 And from whose eyes beam forth the tender looks 
 That freshen life, guide us to good, and sweeten 
 Many a bitter cup. Oh ! as they pass thee, may they stop 
 And gazing muse how fade we all, and perish! 
 Life is a dream : sweet, if like thine tis past, 
 If wasted bitter when we wake at last. 
 
 A J. D. 
 
98 
 
 TO MRS. CAROLINE A. DE WINDT. 
 
 Washington, 19th March, 1819. 
 MY DEAR NIECE: 
 
 I gave the portrait of my beloved arid lamented 
 sister, your dear mother, to mine without reserve, 
 and to be disposed of at her pleasure. And how 
 ever gratifying it would be to me to be the pos 
 sessor of it myself, I acknowledge your still 
 stronger claim to it and were it mine to give 
 away again, would ask your acceptance of it. I 
 have no such power, for it is yours by the dona 
 tion of her to whom alone it belonged. Yet the 
 truly delicate and affectionate doubt of my ever 
 honoured father, which induced you to make the 
 inquiries in your letter, deserves all my gratitude, 
 and excites in my breast emotions of a soothing, 
 though melancholy pleasure. From the occur 
 rence of this incident, I cherish the hope, that 
 while the picture shall habitually present you the 
 faithful image of her whom it represents, and the 
 blessed memory of her from whom you will have 
 received it, with those deep and tender recollec 
 tions, will be sometimes congenially mingled the 
 thought of him, among the purest joys of whose 
 life, is the happiness of having been the brother 
 and the son of such unsurpassed excellence upon 
 earth, of your affectionate friend and uncle, 
 
 JOHN duiNCY ADAMS. 
 
MEMOIR 
 
 WILLIAM S. SMITH. 
 
 THE editor is enabled to furnish the following sketch, 
 chiefly collected from a private journal. In 22 battles of the 
 revolutionary war, was the subject of this memoir engaged. 
 
 W. S. SMITH graduated in Princeton College, 
 in the year 1774, and returning to the city of 
 New-York, his native place, and the residence of 
 his family, studied the law with Samuel Jones, 
 Esq. until the revolutionary war commenced. 
 
 At an early period of the revolutionary war, 
 the depredations committed by the British, upon 
 the estate belonging to the father of Colonel 
 Smith, upon Long-Island, were extensive. His 
 maternal grandfather had been killed in the British 
 service, on board of a man-of-war, and his widow 
 received, until the age of ninety, the period of her 
 death, the half pay of Captain Stephens, her hus 
 band. 
 
100 MEMOIR. 
 
 She remained in the City of New- York, during 
 the whole of the war, visited, by the permission 
 of the British commander, by her daughter Mrs. 
 Smith, who was her only child, and her grand 
 children, protected by a flag of truce. 
 
 Owing to these circumstances, there existed in 
 the family a divided feeling. And when a sword 
 and a major s commission, with the entire restora 
 tion of the property belonging to the family, were 
 offered by the British commander to a young man 
 not twenty years of age, provided he would enter 
 the service of his Britainic Majesty, the mother 
 of Col. Smith warmly advocated his acceptance 
 of terms so advantageous to herself and children, 
 extremely doubtful, as it then was, in what way 
 the struggle for the independence of America 
 would terminate. 
 
 A family council was called ; the question pro 
 posed, when the son gave his answer in the fol 
 lowing words : 
 
 " If it is your wish, madam, it shall be done ; 
 but from this hour, all intercourse with me and 
 my family is cut off forever." His father, who 
 had walked the room during the scene deeply 
 agitated, applaudingly exclaimed, " I knew how 
 my boy would decide." 
 
 He entered the service as a volunteer at an 
 early period, and in the summer of 1776, was ap 
 pointed aid^de-camp to Major General Sullivan, 
 
MEMOIR. 101 
 
 with the rank of major, served in that capacity in 
 the battle of Long-Island, and was the only aid- 
 de-camp with the general in that actior.,hr which 
 the whole corps were dispersed, killed," or made 
 prisoners, with very few exceptions . v Tho geiv 
 eral fell into the enemy s hands, and Major Smith 
 retired to the lines at Brooklyn, where he remain 
 ed with General Washington until the retreat from 
 the island, and was one of the last officers who 
 quitted it, coming off with the commander in chief 
 in his barge. 
 
 Major Smith continued with General Wash 
 ington, and retired with him from the city to the 
 heights of Harlem. He brought off the garrison 
 by orders from the commander in chief, on the 
 15th September, from the fort commanding the 
 passage through Hurl Gate, and opposed to the 
 British batteries on the opposite shore, under a 
 heavy and incessant fire. In the action on the 
 16th September, on Harlem Heights, he served 
 as aid-de-camp to Major Gen. Green, who com 
 manded the advanced attack on the British, was 
 wounded and fell from his horse on the field of 
 battle at the close of the action, and was brought 
 off the field by Col. Carey, aid-de-camp to the 
 commander in chief, and Lieut. Joseph Webb, of 
 the first Connecticut regiment. He remained un 
 der the surgeon s hands at West Chester, until 
 the landing of the British troops at Throgg s Neck 
 
102 MEMOIR. 
 
 in October, when, with a corporal and six men, he 
 cut away tha bridge connecting Throgg s Point 
 wit|i^thtj ; -mafn, at the town of West Chester, 
 which -checked^the progress of the British troops, 
 \\tflo remained on the peninsula until the morning 
 of Ithe lSth, when re-embarking, they crossed the 
 outlet of East Chester creek, and proceeding to 
 Pell s bridge, brought on a very severe skirmish 
 with the advance corps of Sullivan s army, com 
 manded by Cols. Glover and Sheppard - } when the 
 enemy filed to their right, occupying New Ro- 
 chelle and the adjacent country on the sound. 
 Gen. Sullivan being exchanged, and in command 
 on the heights of East Chester, commanding Pell s 
 Bridge, Major Smith joined him in the action, 
 from New Rochelle, where he was under the care 
 of Dr. Bailey, his wound not well. He proceeded 
 with his general to the action of White Plains, 
 where his division continued under a severe fire 
 nearly two days, covering the removal of the 
 stores on the Plains, to the second position. 
 
 While the enemy lay within commanding dis 
 tance of the village, Major Smith, with a small 
 detachment at night, destroyed all the forage in 
 the village and its vicinity in front, and returned 
 to his post. 
 
 The British troops retiring to winter quarters, 
 possessed themsel ves of Fort Washington on York 
 Island, and Fort Lee on the Jersey shore. Sir 
 
MEMOIR. 103 
 
 William Howe, throwing the right wing of his 
 army into the Jersey, under command of Lord 
 Cornwallis, Gen. Washington left Generals Lee 
 and Sullivan with his troops, near the White 
 Plains, and joined Gen. Green in front of the 
 British army, but was obliged to submit to the 
 pressure of the British, who, advancing in vigour, 
 forced the commander in chief to place the Dela 
 ware between the two armies, as the only barrier 
 he could present, that would afford rest to his 
 troops, harassed by the pressure of superior force, 
 the badness of the roads, and the inclemency of 
 the season. 
 
 During this period, Gen. Lee gave Major Smith 
 the charge of a flag of truce, with important des 
 patches to Sir William Howe at New- York. Ma 
 jor Smith proceeded to King s Bridge, the British 
 advanced post, resided several days with the ene 
 my, and returned to Gen. Lee, having transacted 
 the business committed to his charge to his full 
 satisfaction. 
 
 In consequence of orders from head quarters, 
 on the western banks of the Delaware, Gen. Lee 
 crossed the Hudson, with an intention to rein 
 force the main army. During this march Major 
 Smith left Gen. Sullivan s family, and served as 
 aid-de-camp to Gen. Lee, the commanding general. 
 On Lee s capture at Baskenbridge, Smith rejoined 
 Sullivan, and crossing the Delaware, encamped 
 
104 MEMOIR. 
 
 at Newtown, the head quarters of the American 
 army. 
 
 Emboldened by this reinforcement. Washing 
 ton re-crossed the Delaware on the night of the 
 25th of December, and surprised the Hessians at 
 Trenton, commanded by Col. Roll. In this mem 
 orable action, Major Smith acted so conspicuous 
 a part, entering the town with the advance troops 
 \ /of Sullivan s division, taking possession of the 
 Mill Bridge, and the commanding western branch 
 of the mill stream, and subsequently, personally 
 taking the commanding officer of the Hessians 
 from his horse at the head of his troops, at the 
 moment of surrender, that on the last of January, 
 1777, Gen. Washington presented Major Smith 
 with a lieutenant-colonelcy, as a mark of his par 
 ticular consideration. 
 
 After returning with the prisoners over the 
 Delaware, General Washington gave Col. Smith 
 the command of a flag of truce to proceed to 
 Princeton, the then advanced post of the enemy 
 in the Jerseys, with despatches arid money for 
 Gen. Lee, then a prisoner at New-Brunswick, and 
 to reconnoitre the enemy. 
 
 This duty was performed with correctness and 
 despatch. In the meantime the American army 
 re-crossed the Delaware, and took post at Trenton, 
 where Col. Smith rejoined the troops when re 
 turning with his flag. The winter campaign was 
 
MEMOIR. 105 
 
 re-opened with vigour, and the British were foiled 
 in the Jerseys. 
 
 Col. Smith retiring from camp on the recruit 
 ing service, appeared in the field again at the 
 head of a well appointed regiment, and joined 
 Gen. Putnam on the eastern banks of the Hud 
 son, at the time Sir Henry Clinton, after reducing 
 forts Clinton and Montgomery, was pressing to 
 Albany to relieve Burgoyne, then on the point of 
 surrendering to Gates. Sir Henry being informed 
 of the Convention of Saratoga, burnt Esopus, dis 
 tressed the settlers on both banks of the Hudson, 
 and returned to New- York. 
 
 Colonel Smith being joined by the regiments of 
 Henly and Jackson, of which as senior officer he 
 took command, proceeded to White Marsh in 
 Pennsylvania, and joined the army commanded 
 by Gen. Washington. On the advance of the 
 British from Philadelphia, threatening the right 
 of the Americans, Col. Smith was posted on the 
 right to defend an abatised bridge and mills. 
 Upon the reconnoitre of the position, the British 
 retired from the right, and presented themselves 
 in front of the centre of the American line. Col. 
 Smith was then called from the right, and ordered 
 to occupy two large stone houses in front of the 
 centre, and between the two armies, to abatis the 
 houses with an adjoining orchard, and defend the 
 post to the last extremity. The orders being exe- 
 
106 MEMOIR. 
 
 cuted, and the troops posted, a close reconnoitre 
 of position took place on the part of the enemy, a 
 rapid movement from centre to left followed, but 
 the position was not thought assailable, and the 
 British army retired to Philadelphia. 
 
 The Americans crossed the Schuylkill, and 
 went into cantonments at Valley Forge. Col. 
 Smith with the regiments of Lee, Henly, and 
 Jackson, went into quarters at Lancaster, and in 
 the spring marching to head quarters, was en 
 trusted by the commander in chief with the com 
 mand of the advance post at the Gulf Mills, six 
 miles in front ; Col. Morgan with his riflemen, 
 and Col. Kee with his legion extending to the 
 right. He here commanded with vigilance and 
 attention, until the evacuation of Philadelphia, 
 when with his corps he entered that city under 
 the orders of General Arnold, crossed the Dela 
 ware, and overtook the British troops at Allen 
 Town, hung on their rear with effect to the plains 
 of Monmouth. Here 3000 picked men, under the 
 command of Major General Lee, (he being then 
 exchanged) were detached to attack the British, 
 then in full march. Col. Smith, connected with 
 Butler and Jackson, were ordered to the front, as 
 the advanced corps of Lee s division, commenced 
 the well known action on the plains of Monmouth, 
 and aided in supporting it through the day. 
 
 The British pursued their march to Middletown 
 
MEMOIR. 107 
 
 Point, and proceeded to New- York. The Ameri 
 can army took post at the White Plains, and Col. 
 Smith was detached with his regiment to the at 
 tack of Newport, in Rhode-Island, under the or 
 ders of General Sullivan. After making good their 
 landing on the island, his regiment was the ad 
 vance corps of the army in approaching Newport, 
 and lay in advance during the whole siege. For 
 the security of the camp, 300 picked men were pla 
 ced under the command of Col. Smith, and an 
 equal number under Colonels Lawrence and Flue- 
 ry, who were required to lay every night between 
 the lines in such positions as their judgments di 
 rected, to check a sortie, or prevent a surprise of 
 the camp. When the siege was raised. Smith s re 
 giment was the covering regiment of the retreat, 
 and distinguished itself in the action on Wind 
 mill Hill, supporting the position with vigour from 
 sunrise until ten o clock, when the corps was 
 relieved by other troops and ordered to retire 
 for refreshment. The action continuing lightly 
 through the day about 4 P. M. glowed with 
 increased vigour a Hessian regiment having 
 possessed themselves of a strong wall, Smith s 
 regiment was ordered to advance and dispossess 
 them ; this was done with alacrity, and the post 
 sustained through the night. 
 
 On the ensuing evening, General Sullivan, 
 being under the necessity of evacuating the island, 
 
108 MEMOIR. 
 
 selected four regiments to cover the retreat. Col. 
 Smith commanded one of these, the orders being, 
 in case of the enemy s advancing, that the action 
 should be supported with determined vigour. 
 The retreat was successfully conducted, and the 
 troops went into winter quarters at Providence 
 and the adjacent villages. Col. Smith was here 
 detached with 400 men and took charge of the 
 post at Updik s, Newtown, 25 miles in advance, 
 which he supported through the winter. 
 
 In the spring, General Sullivan being ordered 
 take command of the western army, solicited 
 and obtained General Washington s permission, 
 that Col. Smith should accompany him on the 
 expedition. General Hand, who commanded at 
 Wyoming, called on the commanding general for 
 aid, the savages closely besetting the garrison and 
 village. Six strong companies of light infantry 
 accordingly detached under the command of Col. 
 Smith who, traversing the wilderness, arrived to 
 the great joy of the inhabitants and the garrison, 
 and encamping on the right of the fort, restored 
 tranquillity to the settlement. 
 
 The savages moving down the country, with 
 an intention to interrupt the passage of the bat- 
 teaux loaded with provisions and stores, at the 
 Nesnepack falls, on the Susquehannah, Col. Smith 
 was detached with 500 men to cover the passage, 
 and convey the stores to the fort, the place of 
 deposit. This was performed in five days, the 
 
MEMOIR. 109 
 
 detachment and batteaux arriving in safety, the 
 savages being totally defeated and their country 
 laid waste, the troops went into cantonment in 
 the vicinity of Morris Town, winter of 79 and 80. 
 
 In the year 1777, when a part of the American 
 army were on their march through the Jerseys, 
 the roads being in a bad condition, the camp 
 equipage, and the provision wagons were impeded 
 for a considerable number of hours, which caused 
 the advanced corps to halt ; and the commanding 
 officer, Major General de la Fayette, growing im 
 patient at the delay, called for Col. Smith, one 
 of his aids-de-camp, to demand the cause. The 
 General was very angry when informed that it 
 was owing to the Quarter Master s forward wagon 
 being stuck in the mud, and none in the rear 
 could advance a step, until the provision wagon 
 was dug out. 
 
 This excuse so exasperated the General against 
 the Quarter Master, that he rather hastily per 
 haps, declared that he deserved to be hung. His 
 aid replied, "if you will sign a warrant for that 
 purpose, it shall be instantly executed." The 
 warrant was drawn, but not executed, as the em 
 barrassment in the passage had in the mean time 
 been removed. 
 
 On the opening of the next campaign, Col, 
 Smith s regiment was ordered to the front, in con 
 junction with three others, composing the Jersey 
 10 
 
110 MEMOIR. 
 
 Brigade, and covered the country and towns of 
 Newark and Elizabeth, until General Sterling, at 
 the head of a strong column of British troops, 
 crossing from Staten Island, took up their line of 
 march to Springfield. Col. Smith began the action 
 with this column at sunrise, and, aided by the first 
 Jersey regiment, supported it until three in the af 
 ternoon. General Sterling was disabled by the 
 fire of the Pickett, on his first landing, and his 
 army retired on the second night to Elizabeth- 
 town point, and returned to Staten Island. In a 
 short time, however, the enemy re-appeared under 
 the command of General Knyphausen, who press 
 ing as far as the first bridge of Springfield, which 
 was supported by Col. Angel s regiment of Rhode 
 Island. Col. Smith with the second Jersey regi 
 ment was stationed at the second bridge, to cover 
 the troops then in action at the first, with orders 
 to support the post, until the army commanded 
 by Greene should have completed its formation on 
 the short hills in rear. This duty was performed 
 with such spirit and brilliancy, that Col. Smith 
 was honoured by the particular thanks of Generals 
 Washington and Greene. 
 
 After several ineffectual movements, the enemy 
 again retreated to their islands, and the Ameri 
 cans took post at Hackensack and the English 
 neighbourhood. In this position, a corps of light 
 infantry consisting of three thousand picked men, 
 
MEMOIR. Ill 
 
 was formed into two brigades, under Brigadier 
 Generals Hand and Poor, forming one division, 
 commanded by Major General the Marquis de la 
 Fayette. Col. Smith was appointed adjutant 
 general of this corps, and served with it the ensu 
 ing campaign, until the march of Lord Cornwal- 
 lis into Virginia, and his taking post at York and 
 Gloucester, determined General Washington to 
 march from the Hudson and attack him. 
 
 Col. Smith was then called by General Wash 
 ington from the southern army, and appointed 
 his aid-de-camp, in which capacity he served at 
 the siege of York Town, and the surrender of 
 Lord Cornwallis. On the surrender of York 
 Town, Col. Smith was the officer by whom Lord 
 Cornwallis and General O Hara were presented 
 to the commander in chief, and to whom the di 
 rection of the interior arrangement was commit 
 ted. After passing the winter with the General 
 at Philadelphia, he accompanied him to the Hud 
 son, and was appointed to command the advanced 
 post of the army at Dobb s Ferry. The General 
 also appointed him Commissary General of pris 
 oners, and stopped all communication by flag of 
 truce with the enemy, fixing on the post com 
 manded by Col. Smith, as the only channel of 
 communication. This post was supported with 
 dignity. Col. Smith visited the city of New- 
 York, entered into the exchange of prisoners, and 
 
112 MEMOIR. 
 
 after a residence of three weeks, completing the 
 business to the satisfaction both of General 
 Washington and Sir Guy Carlton, whose civili 
 ties and attentions were extensive and pointed, he 
 returned to his post. The ensuing spring open 
 ing under the blessings of peace, a meeting was 
 had between General Washington and Sir Guy 
 Carlton, at the post commanded by Colonel 
 Srniih, who introduced them to each other. Af 
 ter the interview with the two Generals, Col. 
 Smith was appointed by General Washington, 
 one of the Commissioners to reside near Sir Guy 
 Carlton, superintending the evacuation of the 
 country. At the particular evacuation of New- 
 York, Col. Smith was the acting officer of the 
 day, relieved the British guards, and was the of 
 ficer to whom the country was officially surren 
 dered. 
 
 Peace being restored, among the first appoint 
 ments of the Government, was that of Col. Smith 
 by the votes of Congress, 36 out of 37 votes in 
 his favour, as Secretary of Legation to the Court 
 of Great Britain. 
 
 In 1786, Mrs. Adams writes from London to 
 her sister, Mrs. Cranch, thus : 
 
 "Your niece is engaged to a gentleman worthy 
 of her; one, whom you will be proud to take by 
 the hand, and own as a nephew. I cannot pass 
 a higher encomium upon him than to say, that 
 
MEMOIR. 113 
 
 there is something in his manners, which often 
 reminds me of my dear brother Cranch. With 
 regard to his person, he is tall, stender, and a good 
 figure, a complexion naturally dark, but made 
 still more so by seven years service in the field, 
 where he reaped laurels more durable than the 
 tincture of a skin. 
 
 He appears a gentleman in every thought, 
 word, and action ; domestic in his attachments, 
 fond in his affections, quick as lightning in his 
 feelings, but softened in an instant ; his character 
 is that of a dutiful son, and most affectionate 
 brother. He trod the uncultivated wilds through 
 the Indian country, and commanded a regiment 
 under General Sullivan. As an officer, his char 
 acter is highly meritorious ; as a citizen, he ap 
 pears all that a man ought to be, who loves his 
 country, and is willing to devote his talents to the 
 service of it." 
 
 " Her voice in counsel, in the fight her sword." 
 
 Colonel Smith was married to the daughter of 
 Mr. Adams on the 12th June, 1786, by the Bishop 
 of Saint Asaph. 
 
 During his residence abroad, he officially visit 
 ed the Court of Lisbon, had a public audience 
 with the Q,ueen, and arranged the public business 
 committed to his charge, in a manner highly sat 
 isfactory to his government. Upon the change 
 10* 
 
114 MEMOIR. 
 
 of the Constitution, and the return of Col. Smith 
 from Europe, General Washington, then Presi 
 dent of the United States, appointed him Marshal 
 of the District of New- York; and subsequently 
 Supervisor of the Revenue, which office he after 
 some time resigned, and revisited Europe. 
 
 After returning from his European visit, Col. 
 Smith was appointed, when the country was 
 threatened with an expected war, to command the 
 troops of the State of New-York, and being joined 
 by the regiments of Connecticut and New-Jersey, 
 he commanded the brigade stationed at the Scotch 
 plains. Upon the army being disbanded, he was 
 appointed Surveyor and Inspector of the Customs 
 and port of New- York. 
 
 After the death of the Baron Steuben, who was 
 the first President of the Cincinnati, Colonel 
 Smith was unanimously elected to fill that office, 
 which he held for many years. 
 
 In 1808, he retired to a farm at Lebanon, Mad 
 ison County, State of New- York, where he inter 
 ested himself in agricultural pursuits, until 1813, 
 when he was elected member of Congress to rep 
 resent the 12th and 13th districts of the State of 
 New- York. This situation he continued to fill 
 until the year previous to his death, which took 
 place at Lebanon, on the 10th of June, 18] 6, at 
 the age of 61. 
 
 During his residence at Washington, among 
 
MEMOIR. 115 
 
 other letters to the editor, he addressed the fol 
 lowing. 
 
 Washington, June 25th, 1813. 
 
 MY VERT DEAR DAUGHTER : 
 
 I was made very happy by the receipt of your 
 letter of the 7th. I have enclosed two papers to 
 your uncle ; they contain the proceedings of the 
 last week. I am appointed a member of a com 
 mittee, to inquire whether any, and if any, what 
 provision ought to be made, for the more effectual 
 protection of the northwestern frontier of the 
 U. S. against the incursions of the savages, and 
 other enemies? I am very apprehensive it is too 
 late to consult on this subject. 
 
 The British have landed from 1,500, to 2,000 
 regular troops, below Norfolk ; and with five sail 
 of the line, and attending frigates, sloops, and 
 schooners, threaten the destruction of that impor 
 tant city. Our great folks here of course are not 
 on a bed of roses. 
 
 It is a great blessing to us, my dear, that your 
 unwearied attentions and assiduities have not im 
 paired your health. Heaven will bless you, for 
 these pointed and well-timed exertions ; they ex 
 cite gratitude in my mind ; my affection and love 
 for you cannot be increasd. 
 
 I am your affectionate 
 
 Father and Friend, 
 
 W. S. SMITH. 
 
116 MEMOIR. 
 
 Admirable as was his character in every relation 
 of life faithful as was the discharge of all his 
 duties in the parental, it was perfection. 
 
 TESTIMONIAL OF GENERAL WASHINGTON.* 
 
 Lieutenant Col. W. S. Smith, entered the ser 
 vice of the United States at the commencement of 
 the present war. In August, 1776, he was ap 
 pointed aid-de-camp to Major General Sullivan, 
 with the rank of Major in the Army. On the 1st 
 of January, 1777, he was promoted to be a Lieut. 
 Col. in one of the additional battalions raised by 
 the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. After which 
 he had the honour of serving as Inspector and 
 Adjutant General to the Corps of Light Infantry, 
 under the command of Major General, the Mar 
 quis de la Fayette, in the campaign 1779 ; and in 
 the month of July, 1781, he was appointed aid-de 
 camp to the Commander in chief of the American 
 armies ; in all which military stations, he behaved 
 with great fidelity, bravery, and good conduct. 
 During the course of service, Col. Smith has had 
 many opportunities of signalizing himself by his 
 gallantry, intelligence, and professional knowl 
 edge, in the several battles, enterprises, and sieges, 
 at which he has been present, particularly in the 
 actions on Long Island, and Harlem Heights, at 
 
 * Extracted from the Diplomatic Correspondence, published by 
 an Act of Congress, 1832. Vol. v. p. 372. 
 
MEMOIR. 117 
 
 the siege of Newport, in the expedition under the 
 order of Major General Sullivan, against the sav 
 ages, in the battle of Springfield, where he com 
 manded a regiment, the successful siege of York, 
 in Virginia, where the army of Lord Cornwallis 
 surrendered prisoners of war, arid on many other 
 important occasions. In consequence of which, 
 he hath merited my approbation and this testimony 
 of his being a brave and valuable officer. 
 
 Given under my hand and seal, at the head 
 quarters of the American army, the twenty-fourth 
 of June, 1782. 
 
 G. WASHINGTON. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 TO COLONEL W. S. SMITH, PARIS. 
 
 London, Grosvenor Square, 
 
 August 13, 1785. 
 
 DEAR SIR : 
 
 Your letter from Harwich, dated August 10, 
 reached us upon the llth. We were very glad 
 to hear of your arrival there, and continue to fol 
 low you with our good wishes. 
 
 When you tendered me your services, and ask 
 ed my commands, I did not know you had any 
 thoughts of returning by the way of Paris ; other 
 wise 1 should have charged you with a few. I 
 now write by Mr. Short, requesting your care of 
 an article or two which Mr. Jefferson will be so 
 good as to procure for me. 
 
 Nothing new in the political world has taken 
 place since you left us, but a fresh report by way 
 of Minorca, that the Algerines had, upon the 13th 
 of July, declared war against America. This I 
 
120 LETTERS. 
 
 suppose is circulated now, in order to raise the 
 insurance upon the few American vessels ready 
 to sail. The report says that twelve of their 
 ships are ordered to cruise in the Mediteranean 
 for ours ; but it will probably be so long before 
 this letter will reach you, that what is news now, 
 will not be so then. 
 
 I have taken the liberty, sir, of requesting Mr. 
 Jefferson to introduce you to two gentlemen and 
 ladies ; the first of the gentlemen is much es 
 teemed in the world, for his patronage of the sci 
 ences, and for his knowledge and skill in music 
 and poetry; and the other for his notable exploits 
 and heroism. One of the ladies is of a very ancient 
 and noble family; she is eminent for her wisdom, 
 and exceedingly fond of all those in whom she 
 discovers a genius, and a taste for knowledge ; 
 the other is a single lady, remarkable for her del 
 icacy and modesty. As there is some talk of 
 their coming to London, they may possibly ac 
 company you here. There will be no difficulty 
 on account of the language, as they speak one as 
 perfectly as they do the other. 
 
 I had some idea of mentioning a young gentle 
 man of my acquaintance, whose manners are very 
 insinuating, but as he does not always conduct 
 himself with the prudence I could wish, and is 
 very fond of becoming intimate, his company 
 sometimes proves dangerous ; but Mr. Jefferson, 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 121 
 
 who knows them all, 1 presume, will use his judg 
 ment, and upon that you may safely rely. 
 
 I hope you will not travel so rapidly as to omit 
 your journal, for I promise myself much enter 
 tainment from it upon your return. I presume 
 that the family would join me in their regards to 
 you, if they knew that I was writing ; yo.u will, 
 from the knowledge you have of them, believe 
 them your well wishers and friends, as well as 
 your humble servant, 
 
 A. ADAMS. 
 
 TO COLONEL SMITH, MADRID. 
 
 London, May, 1787. 
 
 MY DEAR SIR : 
 
 I have written you only a few lines since your 
 absence ; and those conveyed to you rather an 
 unpleasing account, but you will find my letter 
 attended with so many others of a different com 
 plexion, that I hope it will not give you a mo 
 ment s uneasiness. Mrs. Smith is now very well, 
 and sitting here at the table, making herself a 
 mourning bonnet, for the Princess Carolina Wil- 
 helmina, whom neither she or I care a farthing 
 for. What a farce this court-mourning isj and 
 indeed most other European mournings out of 
 the numerous tribe who wear the garb, how few 
 sorrowful hearts does it cover. 
 11 
 
122 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 Mrs. Smith has given you the history of the 
 bills, drawn by a certain house, which have been 
 noted for non-payment, and the consequent flight 
 of a gentleman and family to America. The 
 amount of bills noted, Mr. Parker tells me, is a 
 hundred thousand pounds; seventy-five thousand 
 guilders for the payment of the June interest is a 
 part. When this took place Mr. A. wrote to his 
 friends, requesting their advice what step could be 
 taken. In reply, they informed him that, in con 
 sequence of delaying only two days, the adver 
 tising the payment of the June interest, the obli 
 gations had fallen two per cent., and would con 
 tinue to depreciate, unless a new loan was opened. 
 That money there was scarce, and could riot be 
 obtained at less than eight per cent. ; that they had 
 called the brokers together, stated the matter to 
 them, and that his presence was necessary imme 
 diately to save the honour and credit of the United 
 States, as they must advance on their own ac 
 count, until he could attend to sign the obliga 
 tions. No time was to be lost, and at two day s 
 notice the journey commenced. Mr. Cutting has 
 gone as companion and secretary. On the 25th 
 they sat out ; 1 have not yet heard of their arrival. 
 This is a sad stroke, but there is less commotion 
 here in consequence of it than could have been 
 expected. The general idea is that the house 
 will stand it, but I fear the contrary; and what 
 
LETTERS. 123 
 
 Congress will say to the step taken I know not ; 
 yet what else could be done ? Mr. B. has drawn 
 a bill for three hundred and fifty pounds since you 
 left us, or rather I believe it has been accepted 
 since you left us. Mr. A. must protest any far 
 ther drafts, should they come. Nothing certainly 
 can be done for him with regard to his private af 
 fairs, how muchsoever we may feel for his situa 
 tion. I shall forward your letter last night receiv 
 ed, by this day s post, as well as one received from 
 Mr. Swanwich upon the same subject. So here 
 we go up. and there we go down, as I sing to 
 your boy every day, who grows so fat we can 
 scarcely toss him. 
 
 As to news here, I know of nothing worth com 
 municating, except a bill which has passed, mak 
 ing four free ports in the West Indies ; Kingston 
 in Jamaica, St. George in Grenada, Mosea in Do 
 minica, and Nassau in New Providence. I have 
 not seen the bill, so cannot say whether America 
 is the most unfavoured nation in it. I dare say 
 they will find a way of being benefited by it. 
 
 All is love and harmony here. The Royal 
 Father and Son, are perfectly reconciled the one 
 to give, and the other to receive. The household 
 is again established, the jeweller in a hopeful way 
 of receiving his thirty thousand debt, the confec 
 tioner his seven, and even the spur maker his 
 hundreds, 
 
124 LETTERS. 
 
 Mr. Hartley has just made me a morning visit. 
 He has had a return of his disorder, though not 
 so bad as before. He is going to write to you, 
 therefore it is needless to say more about him, for 
 if his pen is half as prolific as his tongue, he will 
 not need an assistant. 
 
 We are to have a large party to dine with us 
 to-day, invited previous to Mr. A. s excursion ; I 
 have engaged Mr. Shippen as an assistant. Of 
 the number is Sir George Stanton and Mr. Hollis. 
 I cannot tell how much we miss you ; in short if 
 it was not for the boy. it would be dummy all. 
 
 We begin to dine abroad again, and I hope to 
 prevail with Mrs. Smith to go into the country 
 for a little excursion, when Sir returns; but she is 
 rather averse to the idea, and says without she 
 had some one to go and see, she cannot find a 
 pleasure in it. 
 
 Remember me to Mr. Harrison when you meet. 
 I have a most sincere esteem for him, and fre 
 quently drink his health in the good wine which 
 he procured for us. If any vessel should be 
 bound for Boston, request the favour of him to 
 ship two such casks of wine for that port, as he 
 imported here for us, addressed to Isaac Smith, 
 merchant, Boston, and draw his bill here for the 
 payment of it. The sooner he does it the more 
 agreeable to us. 
 
 It is scarcely worth while to say a word about 
 
LETTERS. 125 
 
 return, till at least you reach the place for which 
 you sat out. So I waive that subject, only observ 
 ing that the sooner it is, the more agreeable it 
 will be to your affectionate friend, A. A. 
 
 i. 
 York House, Dover, April 26th, 1787. 
 
 I dare say, my friend, when you receive this, you 
 will think I have moved with great rapidity. 
 
 There have but two things occurred on the road 
 which are worth mentioning ; the one is my having 
 met Mr. Rucker ; we stopped, jumped out of our 
 carriages, I into the dust, and he out of it; he had 
 a great coat on, and his beard he brought from 
 Paris with him ; I wonder how it passed the cus. 
 torn-house officers at this place, for they are as 
 sharp as need be. As to the other, it happened 
 between this and Canterbury ; but I must insist in 
 the first place that you do not receive it as a Can 
 terbury story. Well, silence gives, or at least in 
 this instance must pass for, consent, which being 
 granted, I proceed to this ignus fatuus. or Jack- 
 o-lanthorn story. 
 
 Curioni was perched, bolt upright, in front of 
 the postillions, who were lashing their nags and 
 clattering away, as if ten thousand musquetoes 
 were after them, when behold, we found ourselves 
 upon an extended plain, and the sable curtains of 
 
126 LETTERS. 
 
 the night falling apace : what was to be done in 
 this case ? Some would attempt an answer here, 
 but I, like Will-o-the-Wisp, am above this, and 
 proceed to tell you what I did I took out my 
 little tin case, and with a match lighted the 
 lamps. The horses stopped, Curioni rose perpen 
 dicular and cried : " Sir, I begged them not to be 
 alarmed, but the one to set down, and the other to 
 drive on, that no one would hurt them." " Oh," 
 said the postillion, "what s this?" "Phosphor," 
 said I; crack went the whip, and they moved with 
 such rapidity, it struck me they were anxious to 
 arrive at some inhabited place, and wished them 
 selves safe home again. I must not practise this in 
 Spain or Portugal, or I may be detained. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 ii. 
 
 Calais, 27th April. 
 
 I wrote you, my dear friend, the last evening 
 from Dover, and I have now the pleasure of in 
 forming you, that in twenty-four hours after I left 
 Grosvenor Square, I entered this harbour in a 
 French long-boat ; it being low water, the packet 
 could not enter. You have passed here, and doubt 
 less must have observed the different lines of char 
 acter on the oppsite shores; they are legible; but, 
 as Burke says, "it is difficult for those who run, 
 
LETTERS. 127 
 
 to read them;" therefore I shall not attempt to de 
 lineate them, lest I should expose myself to the 
 observations of a lady, who I think is disposed to 
 make some observations on life and manners as 
 she passes ; and who having passed the same 
 scenes, is fully competent to make every just and 
 judicious comment. Can you turn to your jour 
 nal, and let me know what is noted on this subject? 
 
 A knock at the door enters a monk. Will you 
 take a chair, monk? " I am much obliged, sir. you 
 are very polite ; I take the liberty of waiting on 
 you, sir, to wish you a good voyage and beg your 
 attention to our convent." By all means, sir, I 
 am happy in having it in my power to contribute 
 my mite to the funds of so great, so good, and so 
 benevolent an establishment tenez, Monsieur. 
 
 Monk. "I am much obliged, the prayers of the 
 convent will attend you, sir, on your route, and 
 they will entreat le bon Dieu, that success may at 
 tend your pursuits :" adieu, Monsieur. I spoke 
 French immediately on my landing, and have 
 been stammering at it ever since. 
 
 The monk has spoiled my letter; Curioni has 
 not yet arrived, and it rains too hard for me to go 
 out to look after him or the vessel : they will not 
 be here one moment sooner for my getting wet 
 and satisfying my curiosity. Patience is a virtue, 
 and I will nourish it. Yours, 
 
 W. S. B. 
 
128 LETTERS. 
 
 III. 
 
 Roye, in Picardy, April 27th, 1787. 
 On Friday evening, I wrote you from Calais, 
 No. 2, as soon as I had sufficiently recovered from 
 the indisposition which crossing a rough water 
 generally occasions ; and having taken the route 
 to Paris by the way of St. Omar s, I now write 
 from the town of Roye, in Picardy, about twenty 
 miles southeast, or further inland than Amiens : 
 and I cannot recollect any other circumstance 
 than a prospect of meeting you, my dear, on the 
 route, that could induce me ever to travel the lower 
 road again. If you permit your imagination to 
 draw the most pointed contrast possible, touching 
 the two extremesof charming and disagreeable, and 
 connect the former with the route I am on, and al 
 lotting to and closely connecting the latter with the 
 journey through Boulogne, Abbeville, Amiens, 
 &c., you may form some idea of the difference. As 
 for myself, I do not recollect ever passing a more 
 agreeable country, as to the general face of it ; arid 
 it is under as high cultivation as the present ge 
 nius of the government will admit ; you traverse 
 it on ires beaux chemins, on either side of which 
 the eye is gratified with fields fertile en bles 
 and abondant en paturages, en lin, en houblon 
 in their proper seasons. I lodged at Arras last 
 night ; it is the capital of the province of Artois in 
 
LETTERS. 129 
 
 the French Netherlands, and remarkable for its 
 fine tapestry. On this day s journey, by the way 
 side I shot, and am now possessed of, four fine par 
 tridges and a pigeon, on which I propose to dine 
 at Paris to-morrow. But in addition to these agree 
 able mixtures of a little sport with rapid move 
 ments, I passed through the noted town of Pe- 
 ronne, in Picardy, situated on the river Somme. 
 It is remarkable for being the place where Louis 
 the XI of France, had an interview with Charles 
 Duke of Burgundy, and though of a suspicious, 
 wary, and remarkably cautious temper, he in this 
 case committed his person and his crown ; and 
 Charles after keeping him confined in the castle 
 for three days in doubt what course to pursue, re 
 leased him on certain humiliating conditions. 
 Whether it would have been happier for this king 
 dom, that Charles should have taken such an ad 
 vantage of the situation of Louis as to have de 
 prived him of the crown, I will not take upon me 
 to decide. It is however clear that he overturned 
 the power of the Barons, and brought the interests 
 of the kingdom nearly to a point. But every art 
 of his reign was marked either with real or in 
 tended perfidy. The traits in his character which 
 come under the column of virtue, are only those 
 of "policy and artifice ;" and his vices being those 
 of the " disposition and of the heart," form a long 
 catalogue, unnecessary to be forwarded to Eng- 
 
130 LETTERS. 
 
 land. I gazed on the tower which held him, with 
 a pensive mind, and then moved to the gate where 
 the famous Count de St. Pol was delivered up to 
 Louis, by order of the Duke of Burgundy, and 
 carried to Paris and beheaded. These affairs took 
 place in the latter part of the fifteenth century, and 
 are interesting as forming links in the great chain 
 of the History of those days, and give an addi 
 tional pleasure in traversing these kingdoms, to 
 those who have looked back into history, and who 
 are disposed to contemplate the past and the pre 
 sent, and look to the future with the pleasing pros 
 pect of improvement. It is rendered very evident 
 that the o-eneral situation of man is rendered better. 
 
 C5 
 
 Society has greatly improved, and individuals are 
 sheltered from private and personal injury, by the 
 establishment of just and equitable laws. These 
 points did not operate on this theatre at the periods 
 mentioned ; and the reign of Louis the XI, was 
 more strongly marked with oppression, private 
 murder, public execution, and general injustice, 
 than that of almost any other prince whom history 
 mentions. But why do I run wild after the vices of 
 antiquity ; or why have I painted them to you ? 
 Perhaps it arises from my being on the spot where 
 these things were transacted. 
 
 Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
LETTERS. 131 
 
 IV. 
 
 Paris, April 28th. 
 
 I wrote you last night from Roye, and agreea 
 ble to my intention then expressed, I dined at this 
 place. Having before I left London informed Mr. 
 Short of my intention of putting up while here, 
 either with him or very near him. I ordered the 
 postillion from St. Dennis, to the Hotel de L Amer- 
 ique. I found a very polite note from Short, ex 
 cusing his absence, and begging me to rely on the 
 politeness of Pettit until his return, which will be 
 in the morning. I alighted and found everything 
 arranged for my accommodation. 
 
 Having killed eleven partridges, I made quite a 
 figure as a sportsman on my entrance. On my 
 arrival at the several posts, I got out, left Curio 
 to change the horses, and taking my large pistols, 
 advanced on the road, and twice or three times 
 had killed a brace, before the carriage overtook me. 
 
 This night I suppose the gentlemen have re 
 turned from Portsmouth. 
 
 After I have seen Madame de la Payette, the 
 Marquis, ajid the Count Sarsefield, perhaps I shall 
 be able to give you some Parisian news : but now 
 I have seen no one. and am alone in the house ; 
 Curio has gone to see his friends in the city, and 
 Pettit has made his bow for the night. It is time 
 for rne to close this fourth article. Yours, 
 
 w, s. s. 
 
132 LETTERS. 
 
 v. 
 
 Paris, May 5th, 7 o clock, P. M. 
 
 In the first place I dined with our friend the 
 Marquis, the day after my arrival ; and he express 
 ed a great anxiety, nay insisted upon my seeing 
 him at Versailles on Wednesday. I did so ; and 
 rinding a great deal of interesting matter on the 
 carpet relative to my country, was induced to 
 stay, until this day, which I have spent with 
 him. Our dinner was so perfectly to my taste, 
 that I must give you a small sketch of it. 
 
 There were only us two ; the table was laid 
 with great neatness. By the side of each was 
 fixed, (I ll call it) a dumb waiter. On which 
 was placed half a dozen clean plates, knives and 
 forks, and a small bell in the one near the Mar 
 quis, and the servants retired. The first course 
 being over, he rung the bell and it was removed 
 for the second. Thus we spent an hour and a 
 half with great ease and friendship; not incom 
 moding the servants, nor being subject to their 
 inspection. Indeed the arrangement was charm 
 ing; and being so, I know my friend will recollect 
 it hereafter. Exclusive of the disagreeable circum 
 stance of having servants hearing the conversa 
 tion, I feel some pain always while at dinner, or 
 rather I feel myself hurried and that my in 
 feriors in that situation, may be as soon relieved 
 
LETTERS. 133 
 
 as possible. I endeavour to expedite the affair 
 that they may be dismissed, and every day when 
 they attend I experience the same feeling. Now T 
 am travelling I act myself on this subject; I get my 
 dinner in peace, and Curio is attended by the do 
 mestics ; he is welcome, and perhaps is pleased 
 with it. For myself, I shall always nourish a dis 
 position to treat my equals with friendship and 
 civility, and those whose stations in life are su 
 perior to mine, exactly as their conduct towards 
 me merits, or their virtues demand ; but to those 
 whom fortune has placed in the inferior grade, I 
 will, in as few instances as possible, make them 
 sensible of their inferiority, or take advantage of 
 my station ; but enough of this. You will, my 
 dear, communicate to your papa, that the non-pay 
 ment of the interest of the debt due from America 
 to France, has produced a disagreeable sensation ; 
 but that in the report of the committe at Versailles, 
 on Wednesday last, on the resources and expecta 
 tions of the kingdom, that point was touched with 
 the greatest delicacy possible ; they nourish a dis 
 position to confide in the justice of our country, 
 but they could not register that debt in the column 
 of certain revenue ; this is disagreeable. I find 
 also, an arret published relative to their West In 
 dia trade, which in the article of salt fish, puts us 
 upon a worse footing there, than we have hitherto 
 been ; it was published in February last, and it 
 12 
 
134 LETTERS. 
 
 is expected by our friends here, will in some de 
 gree interfere with that lucrative branch of eastern 
 commerce. I also, to my great surprise, find that 
 Monsieur De Calenne s letter of the 22d of October 
 last, to Mr. Jefferson, on the subject of the Amer 
 ican trade, is not yet passed the Council, and of 
 course those who sail from our country, in expec 
 tation of its produce being received here agreeably 
 to the statement of that letter, will be disappointed ; 
 some already have experienced the inconvenience 
 of its not having passed. This, if not speedily 
 remedied, will produce a disagreeable sensation. 
 Monsieur Evorqueux the comptroller general, re 
 tired from office yesterday morning, and it is ex 
 pected Monsieur de Villedeuel, late intendant of 
 Rouen, will be appointed. He is said to be an 
 honest, sensible man, a friend of the Marquis de la 
 Fayette ; who in conjunction with the Archbishop 
 of Toulouse, President of the Council of Finance, 
 ai;d Minister of State, are expected to act upon 
 every American question, on a more enlarged sys 
 tem than has hitherto been ; and the latter said 
 yesterday, that the first moment the Council could 
 find time to take up the subject, it (viz. Mr. de 
 Calenne s letter,) should be registered, and those 
 who had been under the necessity of paying duties 
 on articles there enumerated, should have their 
 money returned, (fee. (fee. In short, from the 
 changes which have taken place in the cabinet of 
 this court, America has better prospects in the 
 
LETTERS. 135 
 
 line of commerce and friendship than heretofore. 
 The Archbishop of Toulouse is virtuous, humane, 
 and enlightened. Monsieur de Villedeuel is con 
 fided in by him; Monsieur Montmorin is well dis 
 posed towards America, and they all respect and 
 esteem Lafayette, who stands in a most enviable 
 point of view in the national mind; so that though 
 the letter referred to has not had the effect intend 
 ed relative to the alteration of duties in the ports 
 frequented by Americans, there is every reason to 
 expect it will take place in a few days ; and there 
 does not seem to be a doubt but Honfleur will be 
 also made a free port ; it is situated at the mouth 
 of the River Seine, opposite to Havre de Grace. 
 I hope my friend will not be tired with this polit 
 ical detail, and that she will be pleased to inform 
 her papa, that I think information of this kind, 
 contained in a letter addressed to you, will pass 
 better guarded from curiosity and inspection, than 
 if addressed to His Excellency, &c. The Marquis 
 tells me he had wrote a long letter, containing a 
 statement of an ambitious project, and that he re 
 quested you to reserve it until my return, should 
 I be absent when it arrived I have given him 
 assurances of its being sacred. I have been once 
 to the theatre to see the famous tigers. There 
 has an astonishing change taken place in the the 
 atres of France ; the two last times I was here, I 
 was pleased with the display of female beauty ; 
 but upon my word, I have not seen a handsome 
 
136 LETTERS. 
 
 woman since I have been in the kingdom. Per 
 haps I shall see some in Spain or Portugal no, 
 there they wear veils. Adieu. Yours, 
 
 w. s. g. 
 
 VI. 
 
 Blois, Thursday evening, May 10th or llth. 
 
 MY DEAR AMELIA : 
 
 I am well, and wrote No. 5 from Paris on the 
 6th inst. since which I have been silent. The 
 place I now write from is situated on the Loire, 
 and I think in the Province of Orleans. I put 
 up a little before seven, that I might inform my 
 Amelia of my progress, and have an opportunity 
 of viewing this town, so renowned in history. 
 But before I say anything of it, I must observe, 
 that in this day s journey I have been vastly de 
 lighted with the general face of the country, and 
 having lodged at Tours last night, I passed 
 through the noted city of Orleans this morning. 
 It is beautifully situated on the Loire, over which 
 a very magnificent bridge is cast, presenting nine 
 lively, extensive arches. It strikes me as a well- 
 built and well-arranged town, considering its an 
 tiquity : but I find other travellers have received 
 other impressions, and have painted it in other 
 colours. In its main street is erected the famous 
 monument of Charles the Seventh, and the Maid 
 of Orleans ; whose history I suppose you are in 
 some degree acquainted with. She made her ap- 
 
LETTERS. 137 
 
 pearance in the year 1429, while the city was be 
 sieged by the English, and while Charles was on 
 the point of giving up all hopes of being able to 
 raise it, and meditated a disgraceful retreat; this 
 village girl roused the desponding spirits of her 
 countrymen, seized the Royal standard, and led 
 the troops on to conquer ; and by actions as bril 
 liant as any which history records of the greatest 
 veterans, established the crown on the brow of 
 her sovereign, which before her appearance was 
 tottering to its fall. She first showed herself under 
 the title of Joan of Arc, and after the action refer 
 red to, was known by the name of the Maid of Or 
 leans. The famous circumstance took place on the 
 present month, which, with a little aid of imagi 
 nation, I improved, run through the various scenes, 
 and casting several animated glances over the 
 fields and round the works, I felt as if but you 
 wish those feelings not to be encouraged, so we ll 
 let them pass undescribed but when you consid 
 er the reverence I have for great and glorious ac 
 tions, actions capable of producing happiness to 
 thousands, and protecting the injured and op 
 pressed, you may possibly form some idea of my 
 feelings, when I tread the ground where heroes 
 for ages past, have fought and bled. But I 
 must beg you will not let your imagination run 
 too far on this subject, lest by the time I get into 
 Spain, you may fancy that I am mounted on 
 Rosinante, pacing after adventures. The idea 
 12* 
 
138 LETTERS. 
 
 has induced me to rise and consult the glass. It 
 is so. I am in reality, (and before I have reach 
 ed the Don s Theatre) become the Knight of the 
 Woeful Countenance, and I am here I have rea 
 son. I took a solitary walk before night, to an old 
 and decayed castle, over-grown with moss, and 
 labouring with a solemn gloom, as if the very 
 battlements themselves were conscious of the 
 scenes which have been transacted within its 
 walls. In this place the Duke of Guise fell a 
 victim to the vengeance of Henry the Third, and 
 the Cardinal, his brother, shared the same fate. Is 
 abella of Baria, and Mary of Medicis, two queens, 
 were here imprisoned. Valenica of Milan, Anne 
 of Bretagne, and her daughter Claude, and the 
 famous Catharine of Medicis, finished their days 
 within these walls. On the other hand, Louis 
 the Twelfth, a great and good prince was born 
 here, and the nuptials of Margaret of Valois, sis 
 ter to Francis the First and Margaret the Second, 
 wife to Henry the Fourth, were also solemnized. 
 I walked through the several apartments alone un 
 til near dark. It is magnificent in ruins, and may 
 be considered as a column, capable of presenting to 
 the mind interesting pictures of the transactions of 
 three or four hundred years back, provided that 
 mind is disposed to retrospect and contemplate. 
 There are tales related about transactions in this 
 castle which would chill your young blood, and an 
 swer no end for me to relate, for I am a professed 
 
LETTERS. 139 
 
 enemy to sorrow and sadness. I find the face of Na 
 ture on the banks of this river smiles ; the whole 
 country has signs of wealth and plenty but the 
 inhabitants in general, do not appear as if they 
 enjoyed the fruits of it. I look with an eye of 
 superior compassion on the lower classes, and 
 particularly the females in that grade. They 
 seem to bear the heat and burthen of the day, as 
 sisted by some old man ; the young ones who are 
 good for any thing, are king s men, and wear 
 his livery. I could enter deeply into the chapter 
 of lamentations if I dare, but I must have room 
 to beg you will present me respectfully to Sir and 
 to mamma. w. s. s. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Bordeaux, May 14th, Monday, 1787. 
 MF FRIEND: 
 
 I wrote No. 6 from the famous city of Blois, in 
 the county of Orleans, on Thursday night last, the 
 llth inst., and gave you a very lame account of 
 it and its history but that you cannot help 
 since which I have passed, and it is needless to 
 say rapidly, through the counties of Touraine, 
 Poitou, Angoumois, and with a whizzing kind of a 
 humming brain, find myself comfortably seated 
 in the Hotel of the Grand Emperor, in the famous 
 city of Bordeaux, on the River Garonne, which 
 falls into the Bay of Biscay, and is called the 
 Capital of Bourdelois, Guienne, and Gascony. It 
 
140 LETTERS. 
 
 carries on an extensive trade, chiefly in wines, and 
 the river is now well filled with ships, and I have 
 sent Curio to find out whether there are any from 
 America ; if there are, what are the names of the 
 captains, where they are bound to, and when they 
 sail, &c. &c. I do not recollect that I have given 
 my friend an account of the mode in which I get 
 along. I get a cup, or two, or three, or four, of 
 tea, at or about six, every morning before I start, 
 and after I am shaved and combed, for I find I 
 cannot, even when alone and in a country where 
 I am not known from Adam without the s 
 alias the husband of Eve get over this trick of 
 doing myself up before I take my tea. Finding 
 myself now wound up, that is to say, ready to go, 
 I get into this gig, (a neater never run the roads 
 of France) and continue going as if you, my dear, 
 was to be found at the end of the day s journey, 
 until night drops her curtain, which is about 8, 
 P. M. The last stage, Curio takes a horse, and 
 arriving about an half hour before me, I find a 
 chamber well arranged, and the table laid for 
 dinner, which being served and eat, bed dressed 
 and warmed, I generally get asleep by ten, and 
 up again at five, go the same career. I find I can 
 thus without the least difficulty, take as much rest 
 as I want, and travel from 80 to 100 miles a day. 
 Indeed I have thus far passed on lightly, and have 
 not encountered one disagreeable circumstance, 
 nor been put once out of humour ; in short, I am 
 
LETTERS. 141 
 
 more and more convinced, that nineteen twenti 
 eths of the disagreeables and inconveniences of 
 life arise from the powers of the imagination, 
 which, agreeably to Mr. Jennings, always stand 
 ready in the absence of real misfortune, to plague 
 and torment the man, (and I suppose the lady too) 
 who will permit himself to be made the dupe of 
 it. 
 
 You mention the arrival of Messrs. Norris and 
 Fox, and the receipt of the Marquis letter. I 
 think I am before you on the subject of a proper 
 confidence, as one of my letters from Paris will 
 show you. Well, there is a satisfation in gener 
 osity which none but the generous know. 
 
 I had got thus far by seven o clock, when Mr. 
 French came to pay his respects. He seemed 
 disposed to be easy and pleasant : it put me in 
 good humour, and as I had been most scrupulous 
 ly silent for six days, I gave a loose to my tongue, 
 and was so very agreeable that the little gentle 
 man, at a half past ten, attempted to apologize for 
 the length of his visit, but said he scarcely knew 
 how to go. Well thinks I this is too barefaced, 
 to set three hours and a half on the first visit, and 
 then go with reluctance, it s a polite thing enough. 
 I am to be with him to-morrow, at the time the 
 post arrives to receive another letter, but it will 
 not be answered with this, for it leaves me in the 
 morning. 
 
 Sweet is the lovely blush of orient morn, and 
 
142 LETTERS. 
 
 the smooth surface of the blue serene in ocean s 
 mirror sweet the fragrant earth arrayed in ver 
 nal bloom, pleasant the stream rolling its grateful 
 tide after soft showers, and other visions the gay 
 mind could dream ; but neither orient morn 
 "when she ascends with charm of earliest dawn," 
 nor blue serene on the unruffled forehead of the 
 deep, nor vernal earth, nor river s swelling pride, 
 nor all those visions the gay mind could dream, 
 so sweetly ravish the delighted eye, or bathe the 
 soul in bliss so exquisite, as the far-beaming 
 light from infant heir to the fond parent, whose 
 yearning heart, full many a day has pined in 
 deep despair. Oh how I long to amuse the 
 boy, and clasp his tender mother to my bosom ; 
 to see him smile, and find her deeply interested 
 in the scene, has charms for me beyond the power 
 of language to describe. Remember me to papa 
 and mamma ; kiss Steuben for me, and be 
 lieve me your affectionate friend and lover, 
 
 \v. s. s. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Bordeaux, 
 May 19th, 1787, 7 o clock, evening. 
 
 MY DEAREST FRIEND I 
 
 I wrote No. 7 from this on the 14th and 15th, 
 since which I have been engaged in examining 
 
LETTERS. 143 
 
 the ancient curiosities of the place, and paying 
 some attention to modern improvements. With 
 that I was done yesterday, and Curio having got 
 every thing ready for moving, I should have set 
 off this morning agreeably to my intentions when 
 I left Paris, hut having received a letter from Old 
 Harrison, that Mr. Carmichael had forwarded by 
 the post a royal passport, and some letters of in 
 troduction to his friends on the route to Madrid, 
 I have thought best to wait the arrival of the post, 
 as those papers may possibly be of some service 
 on the road. But another, and not less powerful 
 reason, reconciled me to the delay and that is, 
 that it is probable I shall have the pleasure of re 
 ceiving No. 2 from my Amelia. The receipt of 
 No. 1 being fully answered, I shall not say any 
 more on that, and shall take the opportunity of the 
 necessary halt which must be made at Bayonne, 
 for the purpose of getting mules and Spanish 
 money, to inform my friend of my arrival, after 
 which perhaps it may not be in my power to for 
 ward another until my arrival at Madrid ; but of 
 this I cannot be certain. No. 7 was filled up I do 
 not now know how, but I believe it took two sheets, 
 and I have no copy, but as far as my recollection 
 serves me, it did not touch upon my route from 
 Orleans or any thing like it. 
 
 It is not necessary to trouble you with a list of 
 the towns or villages I passed through. I shall 
 content myself with observing that after passing 
 
144 LETTERS. 
 
 through the city of Orleans, we bid adieu to the 
 paved roads ; this was a very agreeable circum 
 stance to me, and particularly so to Curio, whose 
 seat on the front wheels became more easy than 
 before. This route is most delightful ; it con 
 tinues close to the Loire for the greatest part of 
 two day s journey, and runs the same course to 
 Nantes. But taking the route to Bordeaux, you 
 cross at Tours a very beautiful bridge, and pas 
 sing through the town by a very handsome street 
 lately built, you continue in the province of Tou- 
 raine, pleased with the fineness of the country and 
 the apparent industry of the inhabitants ; but this 
 gradually lessens as you leave this delightful 
 stream. The night after I wrote you from Blois, 
 I put up at Ingrande, an ancient town on the point 
 of being modernized. It is situated on the river 
 Greuse, and the first town after you enter the 
 province of Poitou. You will observe here that 
 there is a town of the same name, through which 
 the line which divides Bretagne from Anjou runs, 
 but you must not suppose that I got there, or that 
 I am easily turned from the path which I ought 
 to keep. Supposing that you will not complain 
 of my haste, I shall conduct you to the upper part 
 of the same stream, which, extending its arms, 
 forms a point on which the capital of the province 
 stands, and bears the name of Poictiers. It was 
 from this town that the battle took its name which 
 was fought between Edward of England, com- 
 
LETTERS. 145 
 
 monly called the Black Prince, and John, King of 
 France. It was in the year 1356 ; the French 
 king, and his son Philip were both taken prison 
 ers, and the slaughter of the French was said to 
 be immense. It was the father of this daring 
 youth, who having ascended the throne of Eng 
 land in 1327, assumed the title of King of France 
 in 1340, quartered the arms of France with his own, 
 and added that motto which they still retain, viz. 
 Dieu et mon droit- 
 
 In this reign, (that is in the reign of Edward 
 III,) the Prince of Wales had the title of Duke 
 given to him, and ever since that period, the eld 
 est son of the King of England is, by birth, Duke 
 of Cornwall ; and it is from this circumstance 
 that I never could reconcile the present embar 
 rassment of the Prince of Wales, for the revenues 
 of Cornwall are estimated low at thirty or forty 
 thousand a year. At his birth, the revenues of the 
 dukedom, (from this circumstance,) became his 
 property ; and during his minority, I suppose the 
 annual produce to have been received, and that 
 they ought to have been reserved and accumula 
 ted for him, unless Edward should have stipulated 
 that during the minority of the Duke, his father, 
 as King of England, should enjoy the revenue, and 
 that this circumstance was tacked to the inherit 
 ance. But from those which are the foundation 
 of this liberality, on the part of the third Edwaid, 
 I do not think it probable any such stipulations 
 13 
 
146 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 were made. But flattering myself that you will 
 be able to give me some account of this matter 
 when I return, with your leave I will drop the 
 subject. 
 
 I ask your pardon, I will never, (I think) put 
 it in your power, my friend, to say I am backward 
 in doing justice to the sex, as I am upon a rapid 
 journey. Rapid when I do move, but sometimes 
 stationary out of curiosity, for the purpose of ma 
 king arrangements for a further progress, or kept 
 in check by the misfortunes of others. 
 
 We will now, in the service of the fair a ser 
 vice under the banners of honour and virtue, 
 which I reverence superlatively skip over a tri 
 fling period of a little better than two centuries, 
 and say a few words in panegyric of Diana of 
 Poitiers, Dutchess of Yalentinois. She shone like 
 a star of the first magnitude during the reign of 
 Henry II of France, in the year 1547. She may 
 be said to have divided the crown with her lover 
 and extended her personal and political influence 
 to heights unexampled. She is said to have 
 been the directing principle of Henry s councils, 
 the object of his tenderest attachment, and unlimi 
 ted homage. Historians acknowledge her charms 
 to have been of the most captivating kind, and 
 worthy of a monarch s love. Henry could not 
 boast of the capacity or discernment of his prede 
 cessor Francis I ; he was naturally tractable and 
 complying, and, of course, subject to the guidance 
 
LETTERS. 147 
 
 of others ; and under the influence of this lady, 
 he was impelled to actions of vigour and firmness. 
 In short, this, and almost every other circumstance 
 fully proves to me of what importance a lady may 
 make herself, and how far she is capable of 
 moulding the character, and gently directing the 
 man who loves her, if she chooses to make use of 
 her power by a winning softness, and by nour 
 ishing every disposition to please. There is no 
 saying what can bound her power, or interfere 
 with her pursuits. I must acknowledge myself 
 a friend to their administration, excepting only 
 when their power is founded on vicious princi 
 ples, and runs a career inconsistent with the prin 
 ciples of strict virtue and morality. This, Diana 
 could not boast of, and therefore, agreeable to the 
 present improved plans of social life, Henry les 
 sens in estimation, and bears a blotori his escutch 
 eon, which I cannot drive from my view when 
 taking a retrospect of his reign and character. 
 For though as a father he was affectionate, and as 
 a friend warm and animated, still as a husband he 
 can only be said to have been decent and polite. 
 Previous to the death of Francis I, and during the 
 reign of Henry, Diana of Poitiers retained her pow 
 er, and displayed it in proportion to the extension of 
 that of the king s. But on the accession of Fran 
 cis II, the celebrated Catherine of Medicis, whom I 
 have mentioned in a former letter, and was the 
 wife of Henry, rendered it necessary for Diana to 
 
148 LETTERS. 
 
 retire, and end that life in a degree of obscurity, 
 which had been passed in unexampled splendour. 
 But Catherine did not lessen the dignity of her 
 character by too great a severity. On the con 
 trary, Diana acknowledged the politeness of the 
 queen, and left her free to direct the councils of 
 the young king, who was placed on the throne at 
 sixteen years of age. 
 
 He run a confused career, and very short, 
 scarcely having time to discover any striking lines 
 of character. 
 
 Voltaire says he was equally ignorant of virtue 
 as of vice. But why should I plague my Amelia 
 with such a detail ; I only intended to have filled 
 this sheet when I began, but I know not how 
 to leave her ; if they afford her a little amuse 
 ment in the perusal I shall be pleased. I find 
 myself never better entertained than when I am 
 writing to her, and therefore I must beg she will 
 indulge me a little, and permit me to take only 
 one half sheet more. It will lead her through the 
 remaining part of the province of Poitou, still de 
 preciating in soil and agriculture, and enable her 
 to trace the path of her friend for that day, (on the 
 map,) and find him at dinner at 10 o clock at night, 
 in the city of Angouleme,the capital of Angoumois. 
 This province gave birth to the far-famed Count 
 d Angouleme, afterwards the noted Francis I, who 
 I have before mentioned. He is said to have been 
 eloquent in the cabinet, and courageous in the 
 
LETTERS. 149 
 
 field. He was great in arts and in arms and 
 your papa will with pleasure give you the out 
 lines of his character, as it is drawn by his fa 
 vourite author Guichiardini ; the portrait is flat 
 tering, and by giving a line it may be easily found. 
 " Delle virtu, della mag nanimite dells ingegno, 
 et spirito generoso di costui, s haveva universal- 
 mente tanta sperranzza, fyc. 
 
 The roads continue the same, and the country 
 grows worse, until you enter the generality 
 of Bordeaux. I passed the line with glowing 
 wheels, and having crossed the river Dordogne 
 which joins the Garonne at Bourg, put up for the 
 night at the hotel of Count D Artois, in the village 
 of le Carbon Blanc, one post and a half from Bor 
 deaux. The night overtook me here, and finding 
 the ferry at the last river not pleasant, I thought 
 it most prudent not to attempt the passage of the 
 other without daylight. I found the inn, that is, 
 the room where I lodged, neat and I aree with 
 
 O * & 
 
 you that in travelling through France, you are 
 much better accommodated with beds than in any 
 part of England through which I have passed. 
 I indulged myself a little in the morning, and 
 arrived at Bordeaux at 11 o clock, and shall bid 
 adieu to it to-morrow. 
 
 I leave Mr. Barclay behind ; he had been here 
 near a fortnight before I arrived, having left 
 Madrid in December last. By my letter to your 
 13* 
 
150 LETTERS. 
 
 papa which accompanies this, you will find how 
 his affairs stand. 
 
 Heaven bless and protect you my dear. 
 
 Adieu. Yours sincerely, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 Bayonne, Sunday Night, 11 o clock, 
 
 May 20th, 1787. 
 
 I wrote my friend yesterday from Bordeaux ; I 
 am now halfway to Bayonne, and propose being 
 there to-morrow night. I have passed this day 
 through the worst country I ever saw. I have bid 
 adieu to rapid movements, but will endeavour to 
 make up for it, byearly rising and industry. I have 
 not been here above five minutes, and E begin to 
 chat with my Amelia ; while she, good, quiet soul, 
 is sleeping as sound as I shall be, as soon as I 
 get my dinner. The whole house seems engaged 
 on that subject at present, except an old woman 
 who has just entered, and is proceeding to arrange 
 my bed. The room is paved with square brick, 
 and she poor thing has wooden shoes on, and clat 
 ters about at a rate that rather interrupts than oth 
 erwise. The whole of this day s journey has been 
 through a barren, flat, sandy country, very rarely 
 producing any thing but pine shrub. The few 
 people that I see appear stout and healthy ; and 
 the men in general, when they travel, that is, go 
 ten, twelve, or twenty miles, mount themselves 
 
LETTERS. 151 
 
 upon stilts about two or three feet high, and get 
 along at an amazing rate ; they seem to move with 
 ease, and to be no way s embarrassed by them. To 
 see three or four of these animals moving towards 
 you over a distant plain, has a very singular ap 
 pearance ; it brought to my mind the feats of Tom 
 Thumb, and my ears tingled \vithfeefawfum. 
 If you had been with me, I think I should allowed 
 myself to have been diverted ; as I was poor crea 
 ture alone, I looked, thought, and was amused 3 but 
 it did not extend to diversion. To give you an 
 idea how a man of six foot must be elevated thus 
 equipped, I will only say, that a boy whose head 
 if he had stood on the ground, would not have 
 overlooked the nave of the hind wheel, came strid 
 ing up while I was changing horses, to ask for a 
 sous. His face was nearly on a level with the 
 top of the carriage, so that I looked up at him and 
 inquired the cause of his application, he stammer 
 ed and had not a sufficient appearance of poverty 
 to justify me in complying with his request ; I 
 told him so, and begged his permission to save it 
 for some boy who might want it more ; if you 
 please Monsieur L Comte, says he. Where he 
 got that idea from I cannot tell, (for by all that s 
 handsome, and when a gentleman swears by his 
 wife he ought to be believed,) I had neither cross, 
 eagle, owl or ribbon, not even to my hair. Perhaps 
 while the men in this district play the giant, the 
 women play the witch, and make discoveries and 
 
152 LETTERS. 
 
 tell the boys. I wrote your papa yesterday, and 
 said that Mr. Barclay was in prison; it was true ; 
 he was put there on Tuesday last as I stated, 
 and for the reasons named, and to my very great 
 astonishment made his appearance yesterday at 
 half past two, at my quarters, and said he had 
 come to dine with me. The addition to my din 
 ner was soon made, and he informed me that the 
 Parliament of Bordeaux had released him, in 
 consequence of his public character, not as con 
 sul, but as envoy to Morocco on his return to 
 Paris, the place from whence he departed. It has 
 made a great talk ; both his imprisonment and 
 his release ; I am apprehensive it will not end 
 here. 
 
 21st, and it is Monday night, .half past nine 
 just got in again I have been engaged in my 
 journey this day, fourteen hours ; I feel not the 
 least inconvenience. Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 May 25th, 1787, 9 o clock, night. 
 Kingdom of Spain, and Old Castile is the pro 
 vince, and I am seated in a good inn on the banks 
 of the river Ebro, which falls into the Mediterra 
 nean about twelve miles from Victoria, and have 
 got safely over those mountains, which I informed 
 my friend in No. 9. from Bayonne on the 22d, I 
 
LETTERS. 153 
 
 should attack in the morning. The difficulties 
 which I am to encounter on this tour are yet to 
 show themselves ; but finally I suppose they will, 
 as all others appear less in reality than in imagi 
 nation. I have hitherto been very well fed, and 
 well lodged ; it is a plentiful country, and if a 
 person does not carry a disposition to be pleased 
 with him, the disposition of the people to serve 
 and accommodate, will very probably create it as 
 he advances, unless he takes pains to shut it out. 
 I write this in great haste, a little disposed for 
 sleep, having arose at three this morning and been 
 busy all day in getting forward. The same time 
 to-morrow will find me in motion ; indeed I shall 
 never be at rest until I am with my friend. I pro 
 pose being in Madrid on Thursday or Friday next, 
 when I will take a day or two to say more. Two 
 English gentlemen who put up at the same posada, 
 will take this with them ; and dinner being now- 
 brought in, 1 must bid my love adieu ; remember 
 me to mamma. 
 
 I am most affectionately your friend, &c. 
 
 w. s. s. " 
 
 XI. 
 
 Madrid, May 31. 
 
 I intended to have continued on this sheet, my 
 letter from Bayonne, No 9, but the gentleman to 
 whom I was addressed, having arrived to make 
 
154 LETTERS. 
 
 the necessary arrangements for my departure, I 
 was obliged to put up a hasty prayer for my 
 Amelia, and conclude, having scarcely room left 
 to sign my name. I have now the pleasure of 
 informing my friend that agreeable to my inten 
 tions expressed in the letter referred to, I left Bay- 
 onne early on the morning of the 23d, and while 
 the muleteer and Curio took a hasty bit at St. 
 Jean De Lur, by way of breakfast, I ate some 
 strawberries and bread in the carriage, after which 
 proceeding to the river Bidassoa, and having 
 crossed it, found myself in the kingdom of Spain 
 at 12 o clock and perhaps landed on the very 
 spot where the Dauphin of France, and Henry 
 Duke of Orleans disembarked, when their father, 
 Francis I, on the 18th of March, 1526, delivered 
 them to the Emperor Charles V, as hostages for 
 his fulfilment of the treaty which he had signed 
 at Madrid, and which he never intended, (indeed 
 it was not in his power) to have complied with ; 
 it however produced his enlargement. Histori 
 ans give a very minute account of this exchange 
 of a king for his two sons ; and it is remarked as 
 a matter of astonishment, that none have men 
 tioned the effect which the sight of his two child 
 ren must have produced in the king their father 
 particularly as they were to be delivered to the 
 emperor to procure his own release. I think it 
 almost impossible that they should have passed 
 within reach of each other, without discovering 
 
LETTERS. 155 
 
 some emotion or producing some salute ; but none 
 is noted. 
 
 The king proceeded rapidly to Bayonne, 
 where his mother and the court awaited his arri 
 val. On the way, being on horseback, he is said 
 to have often waved his bonnet in the air, and 
 cried out with transport, " Je suis encore Roi / 
 His reign throughout was interesting, and his cha 
 racter great though I think in several instances, 
 too strongly marked with a vicious bias and he 
 lessens much in my estimation in the above 
 scene ; for in his hurry to become again a king, 
 he appears totally lost to the feelings of a man and 
 a father. 
 
 From what I have said of this river Bidassoa, 
 you will conclude it separates France from Spain. 
 I shall proceed to tell you that having passed a 
 gentleman and his family travelling, I dined at 
 the first Spanish village in sight of the borders of 
 France. The mode of this family s travelling may 
 be worthy of notice. A mule being saddled, on 
 each side is fixed a low-armed chair, or framed 
 cushion, in which the gentleman and his lady 
 were seated, carrying each a small umbrella. 
 Two female servants pressed the ribs of another 
 animal in the same manner, and a pretty little girl 
 of about twelve years was seated on the saddle 
 between them. These patient creatures being led 
 by the men servants, make a steady progress of 
 about three miles the hour. I think it would af- 
 
156 LETTERS. 
 
 ford us a week s laugh at least, should it ever be 
 our lot to travel thus, particularly if Sir and mad 
 am were slung thus before us. But it would be 
 fair to give them an opportunity to laugh a little 
 too. For this purpose we would lead the van, and 
 bring up the rear alternately. Oh ! how some 
 folks would groan or sigh. 
 
 It is needless, my dear, to rattle you over one 
 hill and another, or fill my letter with names of 
 villages and streams, which I hope you will never 
 be under the necessity of visiting. I shall con 
 tent myself with telling you that I arrived here at 
 11 in the morning, on the 9th day after I left 
 Bayonne ; so that having arrived from Bordeaux 
 there in two day s travelling, I calculate that I 
 can pass from Bordeaux to Madrid in eleven. He 
 that can do it in less, I will acknowledge to be a 
 more active, and of course a cleverer fellow. I 
 was always shaved and combed before four in the 
 morning, and made a point of being ready every 
 day before the muleteer. 
 
 The roads through the Pyrenean mountains 
 are so well made as not to be in the least dan 
 gerous, though being badly paved, are rough and 
 uneasy ; it is carried through a bold and highly 
 cultivated country, thickly settled and luxuriant. 
 Passing through the tolerably free province of 
 Biscay, which your papa well describes in I think 
 his fourth letter, in his defence of the constitutions 
 of our country, enters the province of Old Cas- 
 
LETTERS. 157 
 
 tile, after passing through the town of Victoria, a 
 pleasant place, situated south of the Pyrenees. 
 At this place I was stopped some hours by the 
 officers of the custom-house, and for want of a 
 passport was obliged to pay twenty-seven dollars 
 agreeably to what they called these establishments. 
 Against this, I had attempted to guard, by getting 
 Harrison to inform Mr. Carmichael one month 
 before I left London, that on or about the 13th of 
 May I should be at Bourdeaux, and requesting 
 that the necessary passports might be deposited 
 there for me. By a letter from Harrison at L Ori- 
 ent, I was informed that he had received an an 
 swer, and that the papers would be deposited 
 agreeable to my request. I was detained there 
 several days longer than I intended by Mr. B. s 
 situation. I arrived on the day appointed, and yet 
 found no passports. I can account for this in no 
 other way at present, than that the general or 
 rather particular movements of my countrymen 
 in Europe have been so very uncertain, that every 
 one concerned with them have given up every 
 idea of calculation, or even believing them when 
 they say they intend leaving a place to-day, and 
 being at another to-morrow. I cannot bear to 
 have my word doubted, even in the most trivial 
 case, and was a little displeased at Bourdeaux 
 when I told a gentleman (who asked me when J 
 should proceed,) that I should go in the morning. 
 " Oh no," says he, " you will dine with me the day 
 14 
 
158 LETTERS. 
 
 after." For myself, I am determined my ac 
 quaintance shall make me an exception to this 
 rule, and learn to believe it is my intention when 
 I tell them so ; for that the thing will be done is 
 a fact, unless I should be checked by accident, or 
 am convinced of an error in my determination. 
 
 But with respect to this custom-house at Vic 
 toria. I was at first a little displeased ; but on 
 recollection, being convinced that the surest way 
 to overcome the difficulty was to submit to the reg 
 ulations of the country, and take a particular re 
 ceipt, that in case of imposition I might get re 
 dress here. I kept myself cool, sent Curio to make 
 the arrangement, and contented myself in the 
 public house until he informed me that every 
 thing was settled, and the mules ready to go. 
 
 At this place is a very elegant new inn, and I 
 dined sumptuously, and was well attended. 
 
 Former travellers, who have cast a censure on 
 this province of Biscay, relative to its scarcity, 
 and badness of accommodation, must surely have 
 set out with a determination to find fault and 
 be peevish. I acknowledge my plan to have 
 been carried even thus far into execution upon 
 principles diametrically opposite, but must say it 
 is a perfect Paradise to either Old or New Castile. 
 Indeed Spain is the only country that I am ac 
 quainted with, that the nearer you approach the 
 capital, the worse are the accommodations, and 
 the more glaring the lines of general poverty and 
 
LETTERS. 159 
 
 oppression. But I find I have been so accustomed 
 for several days past to bound and skip along, 
 that I can scarcely preserve a steadiness in my 
 description. 
 
 I will run through Biscay perfectly satisfied 
 with it ; it produces wheat, corn, oats, flax, and 
 has large orchards. The inhabitants appear in 
 dustrious and healthy. Their villages and hou 
 ses seem to have been long built, and where there 
 are any new additions, there appears very little 
 improvement in the taste of the architecture ; but 
 it answers their purposes, and they appear content 
 arid comparatively happy. There is an air of 
 haughtiness in their movements, even of the infe 
 rior classes. The labourer in the field panting 
 with fatigue, while he checks his industry to 
 gratify his curiosity, puts his arms a kimbo^ and 
 endeavours to look big. He seems conscious that 
 he is happier than his neighbour in the other 
 provinces of the kingdom, and looks as if he dare 
 defend himself and his possessions if attacked. 
 But the scene changes as you leave this province 
 and pass through Old and New Castile. Here is 
 misery no, they are just not miserable ; the soil 
 is ungrateful, and the villages cannot furnish a 
 traveller with any thing to eat. I rested on the 
 ability of the country as long as possible, but found 
 it would not do, and for two or three days dined 
 upon half a dozen cups of tea and a crust. It 
 was enough for me ; and as for rest at night, I did 
 
160 LETTERS. 
 
 tolerably in the mountains but in this dreary 
 way excuse me 
 
 Bugs of man make a prey, 
 
 And fleas have their appetites too; 
 
 To avoid whose bite 
 
 I sling hammock at night, 
 
 And so sleep with a tolerable gout. 
 
 You see I cannot help getting prose run mad 
 sometimes ; indeed it is enough to make every 
 thing run mad to be so bit. I never was so sen 
 sible of the force of a toast I used frequently to 
 hear given in the course of the war, as I have 
 been on this jaunt : viz. " perpetual itching to the 
 enemies of America, without the benefit of 
 scratching." 1 will never drink that toast again, 
 for it is too cruel ; poor people, I can now feel for 
 you if it had fallen to your lot, death would have 
 found you before the definitive treaty ; England 
 would have been saved an immensity of money, 
 and the king and his cabinet have been restored 
 long since to their senses. 
 
 June 1st. The court are at Aranjuer, and of 
 course Mr. Carmichael with them. The first 
 thing I did yesterday was to send a letter to him ; 
 it is six leagues, to beg he would forward what 
 letters he has for me. I have only yet, Amelia, 
 received No. 1 ; if I shall be disappointed here, 
 and not get any from you, I will leave the place 
 immediately, and go to Lisbon and be sick. I 
 have already sent the things to be washed, and am 
 
LETTERS. 161 
 
 making preparations for a further progress. I 
 shall be out of humour with the world, or at least 
 the post-offices in it, unless I have letters : how 
 dare the varlets detain them? 
 
 I am already almost put aside myself by bells 
 and drums religious. The host has already pas 
 sed three times to-day. I looked out of the win 
 dow, for I have not yet been in the street, and 
 observed whole ranks of passengers kneeling. 
 The Spaniards, at least those 1 have seen, appear a 
 sedate and solemn people ; pleasantry and good 
 humour seem to be entirely engrossed by the 
 monks and friars. The inhabitants, whose coun 
 try I have passed through, except Biscay, appear 
 almost worn out by the oppressions of their gov 
 ernments, and fatigued to death by being priest- 
 ridden. 
 
 There is a little cultivation round this capital. 
 It is very disagreeably situated, and has an in 
 significant appearance as you approach it. Per 
 haps I shall walk out towards sunset, and to-mor 
 row may say a little about the town and its inter 
 nal arrangements ; and I expect to be in better 
 spirits to write, for I still hope to receive some 
 thing from my Amelia before I go to rest. But 
 as it is possible this may reach Grosvenor Square 
 before No. 10, I will only say that on the 25th, 
 having put up at the same inn with two gentle 
 men travelling towards London, I put a letter to 
 my dear Amelia under cover to Dr. H., only in- 
 14* 
 
162 LETTERS. 
 
 forming her that I was well, and safely over the 
 mountains. 
 
 Saturday morning, 5 o clock, June 2d. I was 
 setting solus at eleven last night, still expecting 
 No. 2, when lo ! it arrived. Mr. Carmichael was 
 so good as to send his servant express with it, and 
 one or two others. I read it, and took it to-bed 
 with me, and then read it again ; I could not com 
 pose myself before I got it, and after I had read it 
 several times, it would not let me sleep, and has 
 roused me thus early in the morning. I have not 
 yet been out of my room ; I am getting myself 
 cool and composed, for I have moved with such 
 rapidity for twelve days past, that I think if on my 
 arrival I had been cast into the branch of the 
 Tagus, on which this capital stands, I should 
 have made as great a hissing as FalstafF did 
 when he was thrown into the Thames. I shall 
 go this day to Aranjuez, and lodge with Mr. 
 Carmichael, as he has very politely requested. 
 I shall see what is to be seen there, learn what I 
 can relative to general and particular politics, and 
 return again here to set off for Lisbon ; but of all 
 this you will be informed by other letters. I like 
 your ideas of contentment and when I return, 
 will study to keep myself as much " within the 
 bounds of reason" as possible. 
 
 Papa s and Mr. C. s jaunt turned out exactly as I 
 expected, relative to the pleasures they were to ex 
 perience. / have often wondered whin people 
 have their choice^ they do not as frequently pick 
 
LETTERS. 163 
 
 up a rose, as meddle with a thorn ; but the 
 fault is in our stars, and not in ourselves. Hap 
 py are those who study to counteract this bias of 
 their nature as much as possible ; the great object 
 of life is to be happy, and to be so, I agree with 
 you we must keep " within the bounds of reason." 
 
 I think you will say he writes a long letter be 
 fore breakfast. I would at any time, Emmy, rather 
 converse with you than eat. I am obliged to make 
 use of a paper on which I have been sketching 
 out some lines of fortifications in the mountains ; 
 thus you storm my works and make me your pri 
 soner at discretion. I am as well convinced as 
 you possibly can be, that you will never abuse 
 your power, or give me reason to regret having 
 placed unbounded confidence in you ; but that 
 I have not said more to you on the subjects you 
 allude to, and which you say I touched the evening 
 before I set out, is because you have never put 
 yourself forward enough in conversation, to ena 
 ble me to judge of what you wished to know, or 
 what you would be pleased to be informed of; I 
 think I only want to be clear in that, and every 
 thing I know on the subject sought after, will be 
 cheerfully communicated. 
 
 I am almost put out of my senses by bells and 
 drums, accompanying the host through the streets. 
 The Romish religion is the only one tolerated in 
 this kingdom, and it is played off with such pomp 
 and ceremony, that I am astonished that the nation 
 
164 LETTERS. 
 
 at large, has not seen through the mist that sur 
 rounds them, and broke the fetters of priestcraft ; 
 but they still grasp at it with all its absurdities, 
 and by a steady perseverance in the career, have 
 furnished their king with the title of his Most 
 Catholic Majesty. I shall see him in a day or two, 
 and paint him to you ; but I feel a little prejudi 
 ced ; this I must conquer. I have seen so much 
 misery in the villages, that I think I shall be dis 
 gusted at the splendour in the palace ; I can be 
 content and pleased with it, when it flows from 
 the liberality of an enlightened, generous people, 
 conscious of their power, and sensible of their 
 rights ; and that it arises from liberal donations 
 to the chief magistrate, to enable him to support 
 the dignity of his station. But when the faces of 
 the poor are ground, to polish the throne of a ty 
 rant, its glitter frets my mind, and forces me to 
 dwell in painful contemplation on those vile op 
 pressive measures, which are exerted to collect 
 from the too patient multitude, the earnings of 
 their industry and the paltry overplus of a pitiful 
 subsistance. But enough ; I find I am drawing 
 to the last side of my paper, and I have no more ; 
 if I had, I do not know when I should stop. 
 
 Yours, w. s. s. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Aranjuez, June 6th, 1787. 
 
 MY DEAR FRIEND : 
 
 I was much pleased this morning by the receipt 
 
LETTERS. 165 
 
 of yours of May 19th. Look at the dates May 
 5th, Paris, and Blois, May llth the places are 
 very distant, and it is impossible to write in a cha 
 riot going post. I have answered your mamma s 
 letter from this place ; I have not gone through 
 the necessary visits to the royal family, but they 
 are nearly finished. 1 find everything here much 
 more agreeable than I expected ; the corps diplo 
 matic, are very different gentlemen at this court, 
 from those at the court of London ; here friend 
 ship, hospitality, and good humour, sweeten soci 
 ety, and sweeten the political career. I have been 
 here four days, and have dined very agreeably 
 three of them, with the English, Swedish, and the 
 Dutch Ministers ; I am engaged to dine with the 
 Comte de Florida Blanca on Saturday, and shall 
 begin to think of proceeding to Lisbon ; but I am 
 rather uneasy about Curio; the fatigues of the jour 
 ney have proved too great for him, and he is now 
 sick and a-bed ; he is well attended, and I hope will 
 recover in a few days ; if he does not, I shall with 
 very great reluctance be obliged to proceed with 
 out him ; he has conducted himself so well, that I 
 shall miss him much and at Bay one took him in 
 the carriage with me, so that all through Spain he 
 has fared in every respect equal with myself. But 
 notwithstanding that, he is sick and I am as usual, 
 in greater health for the active life I have passed. 
 It is my element ; sloth and inactivity will sicken 
 me ; but the other will ensure me health and spirits. 
 
166 LETTERS. 
 
 June 7th. The grand procession of the court 
 this day, has engaged the attention of every one 
 in and about this place ; the palace was thronged 
 
 with " reverend r s in robes," adorned with 
 
 all the insignia of their respective stations, and 
 cutting no despicable figure ; on the contrary, the 
 whole was solemnly magnificent, and worthy the 
 attention of a stranger. After the solemn march 
 was over, all parties perambulated the gardens, 
 where taste and elegance, accompanied with all 
 the graces of the Spanish court, were laid open 
 to view. I was entertained and shall spend this 
 afternoon at a bull feat ; but I am told it will not 
 be equal to what I shall see in the course of a day 
 or two ; but you shall have more of this in detail, 
 my friend, when I shall again seat myself content 
 ed by your side. I thank you for the information 
 you give me in cypher ; there is great pleasure in 
 having my companion a little of a politician. The 
 news came agreeable and apropos. Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Aranjuez, Sunday, June 10th, 1787. 
 I have payed my respects to his majesty and all 
 the royal family. The prime minister, the Comte 
 de Florida Blanca, made professions of friendship 
 for our country, and gives me letters of introduc 
 tion to Lisbon, but he being a little deranged I had 
 not the honour of seeing him yesterday as I ex- 
 
LETTERS. 167 
 
 pected, and mentioned in a former letter ; he has 
 appointed Wednesday for our final conference, &c. 
 I have been so perfectly well received here, that 
 I cannot help communicating to my best friend, 
 my satisfaction on the subject. I dined yesterday 
 with the Comte de Kagenack, formerly the Impe 
 rial Ambassador at the Court of London. The 
 entertainment was brilliant, and he vastly polite, 
 and desired his respectful compliments to Mrs. 
 Smith and to Mr. and Mrs. Adams. The easy 
 good humour which floats in the atmosphere of 
 this court, has had a good effect upon his excel 
 lency. He appears to greater advantage here 
 than when I used to see him stand as stiff at St. 
 James s, as if he had swallowed a crowbar. I 
 pass my day thus I rise every morning at five 
 o clock, dress, and mount on horse-back at six 
 but where does my friend get a horse ? I ll tell 
 you my dear. The Russian Ambassador, (the 
 very antipode of Comte Woronzow) is attentive 
 beyond description. This day is the second- that 
 I have dined with him ; he told me his horses 
 were at my service during my stay. I have, with 
 all the modesty I am master of and I hope you 
 do not think that small accepted ; and thus 
 accommodated, accompanied by Sir Alexander 
 Monro the English Consul, who politely offerred, 
 to ride with me every day, until he had shown 
 me all the beauties of this spot. I take a gentle 
 ride one day to one part, and another to another, 
 
168 . LETTERS. 
 
 until about nine o clock, when we return to break 
 fast, get dressed by half past eleven, go to court 
 and walk in the palace gardens until two. That 
 being the hour for dinner, I proceed with the se 
 renity of a Steuben to the house where I have 
 been previously invited. After dinner the card 
 tables engage the attention of those who would 
 rather play than chat, until the lengthening shad 
 ows proclaim the declining sun sufficiently near 
 the western horizon, to make the walks agreeable, 
 and exercise healthful. At this signal, the whole 
 court sally forth, and present a scene sufficiently 
 enlivening for the kingdom of Spain. Before the 
 evening dews fall, every one retires as he may 
 be respectively engaged. I, an old-fashioned fel 
 low, am now sitting, being Sunday evening 8 
 o clock, writing to my wife. I feel my soul 
 expand with every benevolent and interesting 
 sensation when in company with respectable old 
 age. I think it has its joys, (though different) 
 equally with youth, and the early part of life be 
 ing what I style well spent, its joys and pleasures 
 will gradually, and agreeably to the gentle stages 
 of nature, give place without a pang, or rather 
 imperceptibly, to the more sedate and cooler en 
 joyments of the advanced periods. All that I am 
 anxious and studious for, is, to govern and direct 
 my enjoyments in such a way, as would not make 
 a good man blush on recollecting them, whether 
 in the world or in his closet you are both alone. 
 
LETTERS. 169 
 
 Tell mamma my advice is, to take John on horse 
 back, and by gentle day s journeys, make an ex 
 cursion into Devonshire it can be done in four 
 days you can spend four days there, and be 
 back on the twelfth; but I think she has scarcely 
 courage enough. It would be a good jaunt for 
 you both, but methinks you sigh and wish me 
 back ; for this purpose I join you most heartily. 
 Well, when I do come, we will try if I cannot 
 take some gudgeons for you in some part of the 
 Thames. I thank you for rolling Mr. Paradise 
 so well up in your letter, and then stretching him 
 out again. " I ask your pardon, I don t know 
 whether I explain myself well or not." Oh you 
 are an arch one, but you are just such as I wish 
 you, but rather too far from me at present. Papa, 
 you say, is gone. I am rather of opinion he will 
 be worried on the subject, but that he will finally 
 succeed I do not doubt but it will be by the 
 sweat of his brow it is the way we all get 
 through life. Some, it is true, do not puff and 
 blow as much as others, but very few take it as 
 easy as they might if they would take a little 
 pains. I am at present looking steadfastly, and 
 with reverence at the finger of Providence as it 
 relates to Curio he is dangerously ill but a 
 few days will decide the subject. I am prepared 
 with a proper mind for the decision. You will 
 hear from me again soon. Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 15 
 
170 * LETTERS. 
 
 XV. 
 
 Aranjuez, June 18th, 1787. 
 
 1 wrote you, my dear Amelia, on the 10th, llth, 
 12th, 13th, and 14th instant, and that I am still 
 here is owing to the prospect of Curio s speedy 
 recovery. I am almost out of patience waiting 
 for it, but it would be unjust to leave him behind 
 in a strange country, when a few days patience 
 may sufficiently restore him to proceed with me ; 
 but I have wrote to his doctor this morning, re 
 questing him to inform me when he supposes he 
 will be in a condition to travel ; when I receive 
 his answer, I shall decide whether it is proper and 
 consistent for me to proceed or wait. There is 
 every pains taken here in the circle of my ac 
 quaintance, to make my time pass agreeably; and 
 I have been pleased and comforted, but it is not 
 a theatre for me. I find the manners of the world 
 surrounding the palace, very different from that 
 which can excite my respect, or in every respect 
 please me. I therefore frequently retire to con 
 verse with you, my friend, and can with truth as 
 sert that those moments of virtuous retirement 
 are my greatest sources of pleasure. I continue 
 my early morning rides, and am sensible of their 
 being of service. This place, with the improved 
 and ornamented grounds, embrace a space of many 
 leagues in circumference, on both sides of the 
 River Tagus. The palace is considered the cen 
 tre of the scene, surrounded with luxuriant and 
 
LETTERS, 
 
 171 
 
 well-arranged gardens, through which the river 
 passes with rapidity. Its face is variegated by 
 obstructions, which produce both gently-sloping, 
 and perpendicular falls, which are pleasing to the 
 eye, and by no means disagreeable to the ear. It 
 is really a treat to be here; you may ride under a 
 double row of elms and oaks, perfectly sheltered 
 from the sun, for six or eight miles, which I sup 
 pose to be about the length of the largest diame 
 ter of this park. It abounds with deer, and wild- 
 hogs, partridges and hares, pheasants and rabbits. 
 The king is a great sportsman, and passes a con 
 siderable proportion of every day both in hunting 
 and fishing. He is attended every day in his 
 palace, by the foreign ministers, and those of his 
 subjects who form the court, and they pass their 
 time as at Versailles. On Sunday, all the Royal 
 family here dine in public in their own apart 
 ments, and receive the courtiers while at dinner ; 
 but more of this when I get home: when will 
 that be ? I shall consult the first fortune-teller I 
 may chance to meet with, and if she or he do not 
 fix it at a very short date, I will give but a small 
 fee. 1 must say a few words in cypher. I sup 
 pose if this letter falls into the hands of a politician 
 before it reaches you, he will not spend his time 
 in attempting to decypher a sentence from a gen 
 tleman to his lady. 
 
 7 o clock. I have just returned from dining 
 with the Russian Ambassador, who I have spo- 
 
172 LETTERS. 
 
 ken of before, and must apologize for putting in 
 cypher what perhaps you may suppose might as 
 well have been wrote at full length. If it was 
 anything relative to a political question you might 
 be repaid the trouble of decyphering it, by com 
 municating it to your papa; but as it relates only 
 to us, you will keep it to yourself, or laugh with 
 mamma on the subject, as you please. 46. 93p. 
 n3uu3p. 4. 5i. b3pr. 74b4n. um. u93. o462. ; don t 
 laugh at me ! I have the pleasure of informing 
 my friend that I called to see my servant to-day, 
 and that I found him up, and in a fair way speed 
 ily to recover. I feel lighter for it, and shall make 
 every necessary arrangement for my departure on 
 the day the doctor says he may undertake the 
 journey. I shall be a day or two longer on the 
 road, least he should relapse, and I natter myself 
 that the sea-breeze at Lisbon will recruit him so 
 that when I begin to return, he will be able to 
 bear the rapidity of my motion back. In one of 
 your letters you seem rather interested in the 
 beauty of the French ladies. The only way I 
 have to extricate myself from censure, as wanting 
 taste, is to suppose that they had all retired to the 
 sea-side to pass the summer, for it is a truth, not 
 one showed herself on my path, which run a very 
 long line through the kingdom ; and even in 
 Spain, if I may be allowed to judge, the stock is 
 too small to be worth counting upon, as we Yan 
 kees say, w. s. s. 
 
LETTERS. 173 
 
 XVI. 
 
 Madrid, June 1st, 1787. 
 
 MY DEAREST AMELIA: 
 
 I was rendered extremely happy yesterday 
 morning, by the receipt of your letter, No. 5, 
 dated the 3d inst. My last of the 18th, I suppose 
 is considerably advanced towards you. The re 
 moval of the Court from Aranjuez, and the impos 
 sibility of making arrangements there for my de 
 parture for Lisbon, rendered my return to this 
 place necessary. I am tired with the inevitable 
 delay I have met with here, on account of my ser 
 vant s indisposition ; but his health is now restored, 
 (though he is rather weak) and i shall put myself 
 soon again in motion. You know I am a great 
 advocate for sloping the descent of life, and "strew 
 ing the way over with flowers," I will do all I can 
 to collect a sufficiency for you, and aid you in 
 scattering them to our mutual satisfaction ; and 
 would even venture to advise the giving up of 
 all intimacy, with persons who seem disposed to 
 pluck the thorn rather than the rose. Apropos: 
 I recollect something clever on this subject, the 
 substance of which the pleasant minded Franklin 
 is said to have suggested to a small circle of 
 friends, i. e. there are two sorts of people in this 
 world, who with equal degrees of health and 
 wealth, and the other comforts of life, become, the 
 one happy, and the other unhappy. This arises 
 very much, from the different views in which they 
 consider things, persons, and events ; and the ef- 
 15* 
 
174 LETTERS. 
 
 feet of those different views upon their own minds. 
 In whatever situation individuals may be placed, 
 they may find conveniences and inconveniences ; 
 in whatever company, they may find persons or 
 conversations more or less pleasing ; at whatever 
 table, they may meet with meats and drinks of 
 better and worse taste, dishes better and worse 
 dressed ; in whatever climate, they will find good 
 and bad weather ; under whatever government, 
 they will find good and bad laws, and those laws 
 well or badly administered ; in every poem or 
 work of genius, they may see faults and beauties; 
 in almost every face and every person, they may 
 discover fine features and defects, good and bad 
 qualities. Under these circumstances, the two 
 sorts of people abovementioned fix their attention ; 
 those who are to be happy on the conveniences of 
 things ; the pleasant parts of conversation, the 
 well dressed and well tasted dishes, the goodness 
 of the wines, the fine weather, &c. &c., and enjoy 
 all with cheerfulness. Those on the other hand 
 who are to be unhappy, think and speak only of 
 the contraries ; hence they are continually discon 
 tented with themselves, and by their remarks sour 
 the pleasures of society, offend personally many 
 people, and make themselves every where disa 
 greeable. If this turn of mind was founded in 
 nature, such unhappy persons would be the more 
 to be pitied ; but as the disposition to criticise and 
 be disgusted, is perhaps taken up originally by im- 
 
LETTERS. 175 
 
 itation. (for man is an imitative animal,) and una 
 wares grows into a habit, which though strong, 
 may nevertheless be cured, when those^who have 
 it, are convinced of its bad effects on their felicity. 
 I hope this little admonition may be of service to 
 them, and put them on changing a habit, which 
 though in the exercise is chiefly an art of imagi 
 nation, yet it has serious consequences in life, as 
 it brings on real griefs and misfortunes ; for as 
 many are offended by, and nobody loves this sort 
 of people, no one shows them more than the most 
 common civility and respect, and scarcely that ; 
 this frequently puts them out of humour, and 
 draws them into disputes and contentions. If 
 they aim at obtaining some advantage in rank or 
 fortune, nobody wishes them success, or will stir 
 a step, or speak a word to favour their pretensions. 
 If they incur public censure or disgrace, no one 
 will defend or excuse, and many join to aggravate 
 their misconduct and render them completely 
 odious. If these people will not change this bad 
 habit, and condescend to be pleased with what is 
 pleasing, without fretting themselves and others 
 about the contraries, it is good for others to avoid 
 an acquaintance with them, which is always dis 
 agreeable and sometimes very inconvenient ; par 
 ticularly when one finds one s self entangled in 
 their quarrels. There was an old philosopher, 
 grown cautious from experience in this particular, 
 who carefully shunned any intimacy with such 
 people. He had, like other philosophers, a ther- 
 
176 LETTERS. 
 
 mometer to show him the heat of the weather, and 
 a barometer to show him when it was likely to 
 prove good or bad. But there being no instru 
 ment yet invented, to discover at first sight this 
 unpleasing disposition in a person, he for that 
 purpose made use of his legs, one of which was 
 remarkably handsome, the other crooked and de 
 formed. If a stranger at the first interview, re 
 garded his ugly leg more than his handsome one, 
 he doubted him. If he spoke of it, and took no 
 notice of the handsome, that was sufficient to de 
 termine this philosopher to have no further ac 
 quaintance with him. Every body is not thus 
 furnished to make this experiment, but every one 
 with a little attention, may observe signs of that 
 carping, fault-finding disposition, and take the 
 same resolution of avoiding the acquaintance of 
 those infected with it. The story is closed in ad 
 vice to those critical, querulous, discontented, 
 fault-finding, unhappy people, that if they wish to 
 be loved and respected by others, and happy in 
 themselves, they should leave off looking at the 
 ugly leg. I dare say, my dear, that you can look 
 round society, and mark out a few whom this story 
 might benefit ; thank our stars we are tolerably 
 clear of this disposition. I have often been di 
 verted in company, to obeserve persons anxiously 
 looking out for the ugly leg ; and I dare say it 
 will not be long after the receipt of this, but you 
 will smile on the discovery of a similar trick in 
 the character of some one or other. w. s. s. 
 
LETTERS. 177 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Madrid, Saturday, June 30th, 1787. 
 
 I wrote you my friend on the 25th, No. 16 ; it 
 was, through mistake, dated the 21st. I then ex 
 pected to be on my way before this, but the king 
 thought proper to lay an embargo on all mules 
 and their drivers, for the accommodation of the 
 court. I am heartily sick of being detained here, 
 but have made a positive agreement, signed, 
 sealed, and delivered, to be taken from this on 
 Tuesday ; after which there will be a necessary 
 interruption to that correspondence for a time, 
 which during my confinement here, has been my 
 only source of happiness. Mr. Carmichael has 
 often laughed at me, on discovering my gayety 
 and good humour, or my sobriety on the arrival 
 of the post. Yesterday I was as gay as a lark, 
 and read your agreeable letter of the happy 12th 
 of June, with every tender and affectionate sen 
 sation. 
 
 Your observation on people mixing with socie 
 ty, perfectly corresponds with my ideas on that 
 subject, and I fully agree with you that we should 
 either remain in our studies, or come out with a 
 disposition to be pleased, and to mix with the 
 world with gayety and good humour. This in 
 tercourse may be fairly viewed through a com 
 mercial medium, and a useful lesson drawn from 
 it. When we leave our rooms to seek society, it 
 would perhaps not be improper to turn the object 
 
178 LETTERS. 
 
 in our minds. If we go to seek pleasure and en 
 tertainment, we should also examine what we 
 can give in return for it, and whether the inter 
 course can be made reciprocally amusing for 
 unless it is, the circle we frequent will soon be 
 come tired of us, or we of them ; and like the 
 merchant who seeks foreign or domestic markets 
 to exchange his merchandise, we shall frequent 
 or forsake those places where we can meet with, 
 or do not find a good equivalent for what we 
 bring. In the small circle of your friends, you 
 will find many visit the market with smiles and 
 approbation ; some with mirth and wit, and a 
 very few with benevolence and instruction. A 
 large group travel daily round the stalls, with 
 slander, censure, and malevolence. The first 
 will contentedly hear whatever you have to say, 
 and give you the smile and grin of approbation 
 in exchange ; the second will demand it again in 
 exchange for what he brings ; the third class are 
 generally satisfied with attentive silence, and to 
 be now and then flattered with a leading question, 
 which will enable them to display their knowledge 
 and observation. They are worth cultivating; 
 indeed so are the two preceding. 
 
 "Can smile at sorrows not their own, 
 And laugh to hear a nation groan, 
 They are insolent, and vain, and rude, 
 And grieve at all that s great and good." 
 
 They insult, wherever they offer their goods, 
 and seldom hold any commerce but with each 
 
LETTERS. 179 
 
 other. Towards this class I would not only re 
 fuse to give any thing in exchange, but would not 
 even accept of their wares ; and instead of even 
 plaguing myself with telling them that what they 
 offered was not to my taste, or to the taste of those 
 who visited my shop, I would keep always ready 
 a delicately polished mirror, finished by the gen 
 teel, and of polite reflection, which should be 
 presented even before they had entirely unpacked, 
 and I do not think I should ever be troubled with 
 a second visit ; but to business. The letter to 
 Mr. Robert Riddle of Castle Green, Dumfries, 
 and the will received from Mr. Troup, I wish my 
 friend would put in the post, with a little note to 
 Mr. Riddle. He is a polite gentleman, and the 
 papers are of importance to him. If Mr. Troup s 
 letter to him is open, shall I ask a copy ? Mr. 
 Sullivan s affair I shall attend to. I thank you 
 for your determination to keep a journal ; it is a 
 good thought, and will amuse you now, and here 
 after give me pleasure. 
 
 It is necessary that I should write to your papa 
 and Mr. Jefferson by this post. The sentence 
 contained in cypher of one of my letters from 
 Aranjuez, I suppose you have communicated 
 and as I have some reason to think my letters 
 pass very securely to you, I shall enclo^ your 
 papa s under the same cover. Those that you 
 have favoured me with, have come safe and regu 
 lar the last was not numbered. Tell master 
 
180 LETTERS. 
 
 William that I am much obliged by his attention, 
 and hope he will continue to merit the praises of 
 his mamma ; kiss the dear boy morning, noon, 
 and night for me, 
 
 I am called upon to pay a visit to the Marquis de 
 de Arranda. I shall return to my pen soon again. 
 
 I found at the Marquis s a large party at cards. 
 They are always to be met with here. He is a 
 gentleman of great fortune, and keeps an open 
 table, where every one is well received at dinner 
 every day he choses to call after his introduction 
 to the family ; but cards always succeed the cof 
 fee, and a ride in the Prado takes up the cool of 
 the evening. What is called society here, is the 
 assembling of a number of people, who immedi 
 ately fix themselves at a table, and proceed to 
 plunder each other politely at cards. But fortu 
 nately, every one has it at his option to play or 
 look on ; you are left at free liberty either to do 
 this, or even to loll on a settee in any of the apart 
 ments, and sleep out your visit ; a bow on enter 
 ing, and another when you retire, will pass you 
 any where ; a careless passive civility, is what is 
 most current, and is called ease and gentility. After 
 the ride in the prado, or ornamented meadow, the 
 opera, standing routes or particularly frescos, close 
 the evening ; iced creams, and lemonade with 
 cake, stop the mouths of those who are not dis 
 posed to be very particular to some one lady. 
 The former I find excellent. 
 
LETTERS. 181 
 
 The evening rides exactly resemble those of 
 Hyde Park, except that both sides are shaded with 
 lofty trees well arranged, pleasingly interspersed, 
 with fountains and running streams ; and in the 
 centre, lest in the pleasing scene the company 
 should forget the power of the king, and the na 
 ture of the government, a number of dragoons 
 with drawn swords constantly patrole, and the 
 procession move the round with great regularity, 
 no one being permitted to turn but at certain 
 windings and outlets. 
 
 The city within is neat, and many streets are 
 elegantly irregular. It far exceeds Paris, or any 
 other in Europe that I have seen, except West 
 minster. Some of their gates show the improved 
 taste of the times ; but the wall of the city was 
 built for use detached from ornaments. 
 
 You say you should like to pass the leisure 
 moments in the study of history ; it will give me 
 great pleasure my friend, to attend you in this 
 pursuit ; a little acquaintance with geography 
 would make the pursuit delightful to you. In 
 the meantime you will find in my closet Robert 
 son s History of Charles V. The whole of that 
 Emperor s reign is interesting, and the manner of 
 his resigning his crown to his son Philip, and vol 
 untarily retiring from the splendour of a court to 
 spend the rest of his days in solitude, will com 
 mand your attention, for at that time it filled all 
 Europe with astonishment. He took leave of his 
 16 
 
182 LETTERS. 
 
 son Philip II, on the 17th of September, 1556, 
 and sailing from Holland, which was then under 
 his government, he landed in Spain, and falling 
 on the earth he kissed it, and exclaimed, " naked 
 came I into the world, and naked I now return 
 to thee, thou common mother of mankind." Dis 
 missing all his attendants except twelve, he took 
 up his abode in a small house, which he had or 
 dered previously built for his reception in a small 
 valley of this kingdom ; and here, I think it is 
 Robertson who says, " he buried in solitude and 
 silence, his grandeur, his ambition, together with 
 all those vast projects, which during half a cen 
 tury had alarmed and agitated Europe." He was 
 particularly curious with regard to the construc 
 tion of clocks and watches and having found 
 after repeated trials, that he could not bring any 
 two of them to go exactly alike, he is said to have 
 reflected with a mixture of surprise and regret, 
 on his own folly, in having bestowed so much 
 time and labour on the more vain attempt of 
 bringing mankind to a precise uniformity of sen 
 timent concerning the intricate and mysterious 
 doctrines of religion. He was constantly engaged 
 in foreign wars, or in contests with his protestant 
 subjects, in fruitless attempts to bring them back 
 to the Catholic religion. Philip early discovered 
 his ingratitude and inattention to his father, who 
 was embarrassed for the first payment which 
 Philip was to have made him ; though out of his 
 
LETTERS. 183 
 
 immense wealth, and extensive possessions both in 
 Europe and Africa, and the more wealthy conti 
 nent of South America, he only reserved to him 
 self 100,000 crowns a year. But the son soon 
 discovered that with his father s kingdoms he in 
 herited his views, and though he had transferred to 
 him his power, he could not transplant his good 
 qualities. His tyranny and persecutions soon 
 procured the revolt and loss of the Low Countries, 
 now the United Provinces, commonly called 
 Holland. His marriage with Mary, queen of 
 England, as great a bigot as himself, is considered 
 a circumstance which rather urged him on to 
 those acts which disgraced his reign and dismem 
 bered his empire. But you see 1 am a little 
 pushed for paper, and it is now too late to obtain 
 a fresh supply. It is probable when you receive 
 this, 1 shall be in or near Lisbon. 
 
 Tell Mr. Cutting I have received his letter 
 from Amsterdam, and am much obliged ; he was 
 right to go with your papa ; and 1 think he had bet 
 ter postpone his visit to Taunton until rny return. 
 Remember me affectionately to your mamma. 
 Sir is I suppose still in Holland. I am, my friend, 
 with the most unbounded love, yours sincerely, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Madrid, July 3d, 1787. 
 
 One line more, my dear friend, before 1 shut up 
 my writing desk and bid adieu to Madrid. I have 
 
184 LETTERS. 
 
 written several notes of thanks to those who have 
 contributed to make my stay here tolerably agree 
 able, and had cleared my desk, but my heart beat 
 it open to chat a little more with you, to say fare 
 well, until I get to Lisbon, which calculation will 
 be twelve days from this date, when I shall again 
 take my pen, and unfold the scenes I may pass. 
 Remember me with tenderness, and " all be 
 yond, let wild ambition grapple for and gain." 
 Yours most sincerely, w. s. s. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 Merida, July 9th, 1787, Estremadura. 
 The weather is extremely warm, which induces 
 me to begin my journey at two o clock in the 
 morning ; we put up at eight and rest until five, it 
 is now near nine, and the journey for the day is 
 finished. When I wrote you my friend from Ma 
 drid No. 18, I gave you some reason to think that 
 you would not hear from me again, until my ar 
 rival at Lisbon ; but I suppose you laughed at the 
 idea, and imagined I should steal a moment from 
 sleep, to say a word or two on the way. It would 
 afford you no amusement were I to give a 
 minute account of the villages through which I 
 have passed since my departure ; there is such a 
 sameness prevails throughout, that knowing one, 
 you may form a tolerable idea of all the rest, and 
 even the description of that one, I think it would 
 be prudent for me to retain, until I have the hap- 
 
LETTERS. 185 
 
 piness of being with you. In some however, par 
 ticularly in Orepesa and Truxilles, are the remains 
 of ancient Moorish or Roman fortifications ; the 
 latter is asserted by M. L. Dutens, Member of the 
 Royal Academy of Inscriptions and Belles-lettres 
 of Paris, and a Fellow of the Royal Society of 
 London, to be the country of the famous Pizarro, 
 the conqueror of Peru. With submission to the 
 learned gentleman, I take the liberty of doubting 
 it, and beg that you will examine Robertson on 
 this important point, for I think he will say some 
 thing of Pizarro which will enable you to forward 
 me the information I wish. The question is, 
 where was Pizarro the conqueror of Peru born 
 and brought up for education I think he had 
 none and on what theatre did he first make his 
 appearance ? If my recollection does not fail me, 
 he started forth after Cortez had conquered Mex 
 ico, and some even say that he was a native of 
 Panama; this I am pretty clear in. In that dis 
 trict of country the plan was first laid by Francis 
 Pizarro, Almagro, and Sucques a priest ; that they 
 sailed from thence for Spain, and obtained a grant 
 of all the countries they should conquer. This 
 great enterprise was undertaken with two hundred 
 and fifty foot and sixty horse, and from the par 
 ticular circumstances of the kingdom of Peru at 
 the time of the invasion, the invaders had every 
 advantage possible. The reigning king was At- 
 abalipa, the twelfth of the race of the Incas ; he 
 16* 
 
186 LETTERS. 
 
 had just conquered his brother Huescar, and held 
 him as a prisoner in Cusco, the then capital of the 
 Peruvian empire. The system of government 
 which was pursued by the Incas, you will find in 
 Barlow s Vision of Columbus, and many lines of 
 national character justly and delicately drawn. 
 I. never yet could get it for so long a time as I 
 wished, for separate from the versifying abilities 
 of the author, it must contain some historical facts 
 worth looking into. I shall be amused with the 
 latter panegyricks ; on the former I shall leave to 
 better judges. They were a mild and gentle peo 
 ple, and from the superiority of European arts and 
 arms, fell an easy prey to the invaders. But Pi- 
 zarro, while revelling in luxury, and enjoying the 
 wealth of the greatest conquest that was ever 
 made, fell a sacrifice to his own pride and avarice, 
 in his palace in the city of Lima, which he had 
 founded and built, and which now is the capital 
 of that kingdom. It has always been convulsed, 
 and I cannot help thinking, is not much at this 
 present day disposed for tranquillity. 
 
 The mistake of Monsieur Dutens, (if it is one) 
 may arise from this : there are two other towns 
 in the world called Truxillo, beside the one we 
 now dispute about in Estremadura in Spain. The 
 one is in the kingdom of Peru in South America, 
 about two hundred miles from Lima; and the other 
 is in North America in the kingdom of Mexico and 
 province of Honduras, about three hundred miles 
 
LETTERS. 187 
 
 northeast of Amapalla ; perhaps this last was the 
 native place of Pizarro that he transferred the 
 name to the town in S. A. &c. &c. ; but I won t 
 at this distance from my little library plague my 
 self with conjectures, but Mr. Duton s opinion 
 must be looked into in the meantime I will only 
 say that the place I now write from is situated on 
 the River Guadiana, and was once the capital of 
 Estremadura, and abounds with interesting mon 
 uments of antiquity ; it was formerly a Roman 
 city of some considerable note if I may judge from 
 the venerable pillars and arches, in and about the 
 place. There is a column of white marble in the 
 square (which I suppose the centre of the ancient 
 city,) crowned with a pedestrian statue. Time 
 has not made any great depredations on this col 
 umn ; it stands firm, and preserves its grandeur 
 amid the surrounding ruins. I could not help 
 attempting to draw a line of comparison between 
 the people who raised this column, and turned the 
 neighbouring arches, and those who at the pres 
 ent day were treading out their grain with horses 
 in the environs of these ancient relics. But as 
 " death opens wide the gates of fame, and shuts 
 close the doors of envy after," and imagination is 
 apt to paint in too high colours, I am apprehen 
 sive I have complimented the Roman character, 
 too much at the expense of the Spanish. I have 
 a high idea of the former, and am looking out for 
 every favourable impression from the latter. I 
 
188 LETTERS. 
 
 have in several instances been fortunate, but have 
 not yet made up my mind. There appears a 
 strange jumble which I can neither digest nor 
 reconcile but a further knowledge of them, and 
 a little more thought, may satisfy me ; at present 
 clouds and darkness rest upon it. Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 XX. 
 
 Lisbon, July 16th, 1787. 
 
 I arrived here the last evening, and sent imme 
 diately to the merchant to whom I am addressed, 
 to inquire for a letter from my dear Amelia, and 
 was not a little mortified to receive for answer, 
 that the gentleman was gone to his country house 
 to spend the day with some friends, it being Sun 
 day. Well, says patience, wait until the morn 
 ing, Mr. Colonel, and you shall have it, for I am 
 sure the letter has been forwarded. It turned out 
 exactly so, and at breakfast this morning I was 
 blessed with No. 7, of the 20th of June, contin 
 uing by adjournments until it embraced the 22d. 
 I have half a mind to get a cork jacket made, and 
 like the lover who swam the Hellespont every 
 night to meet his fair one, plunge into the Atlantic, 
 and seek the white cliffs of Albion. The difficul 
 ties which were painted on my route were easily 
 overcome, or vanished as I approached them. 
 There is a strange disposition afloat in the world, 
 to let the bad foot command the attention. A 
 
LETTERS. 189 
 
 gentleman wrote me the morning I left London, 
 some instructions relative to the route and mode 
 of travelling, for observe, he had been through 
 these countries. He recommends me by all 
 means, to travel through Spain and Portugal on 
 horse-back, arid to carry my portmanteau on a 
 mule; for, says he, "for a carriage, the roads are 
 but passable for an English carriage imprac 
 ticable" I shall have the pleasure of relating to 
 that gentleman, how agreeable a good English 
 carriage has made the journey to me ; and I shall 
 say further, that I am thus far without suffering 
 the least fracture only of one of the lamps, when 
 the muleteer drove me against the side of a house. 
 I very coolly told him I did not choose to go in 
 that way, if he would please to enter at the gate 
 way, I should thank him. It is true that every body 
 appears, and some express their astonishment at 
 so light a carriage having performed the journey. 
 I have met with several who have broken wheels 
 and springs, but by the attention I paid to this 
 carriage before I set out you may remember I 
 walked often to the coach-maker s it has fully 
 equalled my expectations, and I am much pleased 
 with the fidelity of the coach-maker ; his work 
 does him honour. I have not the least doubt but 
 it will carry me secure back again. 
 
 I am rendered doubly happy to be informed in 
 your agreeable letter, of the welfare of my family 
 in America, I am deeply interested in their hap- 
 
190 LETTERS. 
 
 piness, and pleased to hear they are well and 
 cheerful. You will find us, my Emmy, a family 
 of friends, looking upon each other with every 
 benevolent sensation, and anxiously disposed to 
 promote each other s happiness. In such a circle 
 I think Heaven designed you to move, and not in 
 the cold, unfeeling round of life, where each looks 
 on the other with the eye of indifference, except 
 only when they can answer each other s purposes. 
 But check to your castle, says you thank you, 
 my queen. You say Charity expresses her appre 
 hension that I have discovered something in her 
 style which did not meet with my approbation, 
 and thus she accounts for my silence. You will 
 find from this circumstance, my dear, how well I 
 am known even the waters of the Atlantic can 
 not shelter me from a discovery. I own I was 
 somewhat hurt at a sentence in one of her letters 
 to me, but the dear girl would never have known 
 it had she not made the observation you forward 
 ed nay, I doubt whether if she was to read the 
 letter ten times over she would discover it herself. 
 I will now write her, and smooth it over. I am 
 a strange creature, and I acknowledge it ; but you 
 will make me a good one I hope. I know it was 
 not fair to let the trifle for a trifle it was rest 
 upon my mind ; but I have very little disguise in 
 me, and would never nourish the least particle of 
 it, were it not sometimes necessary to the happi 
 ness of others; but I find it very difficult, and 
 
LETTERS. 191 
 
 sometimes almost next to an impossibility to 
 " carry smiles and sunshine in my face, when 
 discontent sets heavy on my heart," or to write 
 a letter of tenderness, affection, or friendship, 
 when my feelings are not in unison, or do not 
 correspond with the subject. I admire a reply of 
 Bethas, an Arabian prince, who being taken pris 
 oner in the course of a war between him and the 
 Prince of Parthia, when the latter upbraided him 
 with having undertaken the war upon vile and 
 mercenary principles, and that the reasons he 
 originally gave for it were not founded in fact, 
 but that other and stronger motives lay concealed. 
 He said, "no sir, twas honour urged me to the 
 war; it is my ruling star by which I steer through 
 life, and shun the shelves of infamy and vice;" 
 and to the latter charge, proceeding, he exclaim 
 ed with dignity, "there you mistake me, Prince, 
 for dissimulation never marked my looks, nor flat 
 tering deceit e er taught my tongue the tale of 
 falsehood to disguise my thoughts." But 1 am 
 quite out of my depth and calculation ; 1 am on 
 the fourth side, and almost to the bottom, when I 
 candidly acknowledge I intended only to fill this 
 sheet; for as you say, it has a long way to travel, 
 but I have got so far, and I will proceed to the 
 other. 
 
 My last letter to you my friend, was marked 
 No. 19, (but you take no notice of not having re 
 ceived No. 10) dated on the 9th inst., from Merida, 
 
192 LETTERS. 
 
 in the Spanish* Province of Estremadura, on the 
 River Guadiana, which after entering the king 
 dom of Portugal at Elvas, and dividing the king 
 dom of Algarva, (subject to Portugal) from the 
 province of Andalusia, loses itself in the Mediter 
 ranean Ocean at Aymonte, a Spanish town about 
 eighty-five miles northwest of Cadiz, where I sup 
 pose sober-sided Harrison now is. I said some 
 thing about Merida, its past grandeur and present 
 appearance, its ancient arches, and a pillar on 
 which an equestrian statue is fixed, and as you 
 are pleased to express yourself interested in the 
 small points of history which I have touched in 
 some of my letters, I shall tell you what puzzles 
 me; on the one side of the pillar mentioned, is 
 clearly legible Concordice Augusti the other 
 I could not make out, but it finishes, Romce, 1646. 
 On reading this I was instantly overshadowed 
 with a darkness similar to what was felt in Egypt, 
 and I cannot yet find out what this 1646 means. 
 The different dates of the rise and fall of empires 
 is pretty well preserved, and history clearly proves 
 to us that the Egyptians communicated to the 
 Greeks, those to the Romans, and they to the 
 present inhabitants of Europe, the luxuries and 
 refinements of civilized life. We know that 
 Rome was founded by Romulus and Remus in 
 the year 753, before the birth of Christ that in 
 
 * There is a Province in Portugal of the same name, in the Capital of 
 which I am at present. 
 
LETTERS. 193 
 
 the year 328, after Christ, Constantine removed 
 the seat of empire from Rome to Constantinople, 
 and that in 476, Rome fell a pray to the Barba 
 rians of the North, and that Odoaeer their leader, 
 occupied the thrones of the Caesars. We also 
 know that wars, tumult, and a general confusion, 
 attended with ignorance, overspread Europe for 
 several hundred years, which gradually dispers 
 ing, the dawnings of refinement, and the stages of 
 improvement are traced pretty clearly to the lat 
 ter end of the fifteenth century, viz: in 1492, 
 when Columbus sailed for the discovery of Amer 
 ica ; from that period to the present day is very 
 clearly known the progress in the arts and sci 
 ences, and the general amelioration of the state of 
 man has not wanted recorders. Now through all 
 these meanders, I can get no light thrown upon 
 Romce, 1646. Perhaps your papa can explain 
 it, while I proceed to tell my friend, that having 
 crossed the Gaudiana in the morning of the tenth, 
 on a strong stone bridge of sixty-one arches, I 
 proceeded to Badajos, the capital of Estremadura, 
 and the last town in Spain, strongly fortified and 
 garrisoned. On the eleventh, having recrossed 
 the Guadiana on a bridge of twenty-seven arches, 
 at ten o clock 1 entered the kingdom of Portugal, 
 and at twelve drove into Elvas, the frontier gar 
 rison of the kingdom. As I entered the gate, the 
 officer of the guard, according to custom, took my 
 name and I passed to the Posada. In a very short 
 17 
 
194 LETTERS. 
 
 time the commanding officer. Senior Guillerme 
 Luir Antonio Je Vallere, Marechal de Camps, (fee. 
 &c., waited upon me. He said that as soon as 
 the garrison-guard reported my arrival and name, 
 he set out to pay his respects, to offer his services 
 during the time I honoured the garrison with my 
 presence ; and hoped I would do him the favour 
 to take a soldier s dinner with him. "You will, 
 sir," says he, " excuse the rapidity of my advances, 
 when I assure you I have known you some time, 
 though I never had the pleasure of seeing you be 
 fore." I was quite thunder-struck with all this 
 profusion of compliment and civility, thanked 
 him for his politeness, and accepted his invitation 
 to dinner determined to look further into his 
 character. I would give some few pence to know 
 what he meant, when he said he had known me 
 for some considerable time ; but here I could not 
 with decency discover any anxiety. On entering 
 his quarters, I found his table covered with min 
 erals and petrefactions, (fee. (fee., and different 
 specimens of wood laying under. I compliment 
 ed him on the scene, and began with him as a 
 philosopher, admiring the sports, exertions, and 
 arrangements of Nature, exhibited in the several 
 productions which lay before us ; he joined with 
 great relish, and after running some time on this 
 horse we mounted the botanical nags, a collection 
 of which he produced. I admired some, and took 
 the seeds of others, with instructions how to raise 
 
LETTERS. 195 
 
 and use them. A case of mathematical instru 
 ments which lay near, induced me to leap the 
 ditch and mount the parapet, and we proceeded 
 to fortification and gunnery, in all which I found 
 him instructed superior to any officer I have ever 
 met with in short I passed this day delightful 
 ly. He extended his politeness further: after 
 dinner he showed all the works, and the interior ar 
 rangements of the garrison, and amused me for an 
 half hour with the exercise and firing of a com 
 pany of Infantry and Artillery. It was better than 
 a pinch of snuff; and when I took my leave of 
 him he gave me a letter of introduction to his lady 
 and daughter here, whom I have taken tea with 
 this afternoon ; and ordered two of his dragoons 
 to attend me through the kingdom, and to see me 
 safe in Lisbon. This they faithfully attended to, 
 and I dismissed them this morning, with thanks, 
 and money to carry them back again ; (if people 
 will dance they must pay the fiddler.) I am divert 
 ed with mamma s dream, on the first of April ; it 
 shows at least that she thinks a little about us, 
 and what she says of the succession, I dare say you 
 will agree with me in supposing it would be bet 
 ter so than worse ; but I agree with you in think 
 ing it has come forward at a very early period, 
 for it most certainly existed previous to the arrival 
 of the persons mentioned, but time and patience 
 will unfold all, and my next will say something 
 to you about the time you may expect to have me 
 
196 LETTERS. 
 
 to yourself ; but why, my dear, do you say your 
 next shall be deposited at Bordeaux ; have you not 
 been a little too hasty in this decision ? But it is 
 done, and I can only mourn that if I should be 
 detained here two or three weeks, that I shall not 
 have another line from you until I get into France, 
 which, let me be as industrious as I can be, can 
 not be in less than a month or six weeks; but I ll 
 play you a trick for this, so look sharp. During 
 the course of the war, I was stationed with three 
 hundred and eighty chosen men, at Updikes, 
 New Town, in the State of Rhode Island, oppo 
 site the British army. I had detached a Captain 
 and fifty, some distance on my right, to guard a 
 pass, &c. &c., a circumstance came to my knowl 
 edge, which gave him some little advantage of 
 the enemy. I sent orders to him in writing to 
 do so and so, and press the advantage that for 
 tune might favour him with, and at the moment 
 that I expected his report of having done the 
 business, I received information of the enemy hav 
 ing passed, and soon after his account confirming 
 it, with a detail of what he had done. It was dif 
 ferent from what I had requested, and he excused 
 himself by saying, he thought he did for the best. 
 But, sir, did I not tell you every stage, and prom 
 ise information if any changes were necessa 
 ry? He said yes but he thought he was doing 
 for the best. I was obliged to tell him he had no 
 right to think. I arrested and broke, and sent 
 
LETTERS. 197 
 
 him home to think and contrive. But this is an 
 out-of-the-way story Bordeaux is the word 
 and with love to my boy and mamma, I am, my 
 dear girl, your most affectionate friend, 
 
 WILLIAM. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 Lisbon, July 31st, 1787. 
 
 And I stand my hand, that is to say, having 
 played the game of twenty-one, I stop and beat 
 you. It is a long time though, my dear, since 20 
 was dated ; but your goodness will form many 
 excuses, and my candour when I see you will 
 satisfy you relative to the long silence. I have 
 been every moment employed since I arrived ; I 
 have got through all my affairs well, equal to my 
 expectation, and have been received and treated 
 with every mark of politeness and respect I could 
 wish. My last gave you an account of my recep 
 tion at the Advanced Garrison, and I have found 
 no diminution of attention. I have had two 
 interviews with the minister, and doubt not but 
 my report to Congress will be acceptable ; but 
 more of this when I see you, which I think, Hea 
 ven favouring, will not now be long. I have re 
 ceived No. 8 and 9 ; I thank you for not strictly 
 attending to your determination, relative to your 
 depositing letters for me at Bordeaux. I shall 
 profit by the hint in your last, and embark for 
 Fal mouth in five or six days from this, so that 
 17* 
 
198 LETTERS. 
 
 the next place you will hear from me will be 
 there ; and then, very, very soon my love, I will 
 be with you. It will happen fortunately, if you 
 should be on a visit to some friends about Exeter, 
 who I have often heard your mamma speak of; 
 a line left for me at the post-offices of Falmouth 
 and Exeter, informing where you are, (fee. would 
 put every thing straight. But you will have fin 
 ished your jaunt before that, and I shall have 
 nothing to do after I land, if I find no orders at 
 the post- office, than to clatter away for Grosvenor 
 Square as quick as possible. 
 
 I was some days past at an entertainment of the 
 French Ambassador s ; he outshines brilliancy it 
 self. The company collected in number about 
 200 at and before 8, and after looking very agree 
 able at ea<?h other for about half an hour, were 
 called into another apartment, where a very neat 
 theatre was well arranged, and the ambassadress, 
 and her sister, with two French noblemen, and 
 one or two small characters, entertained the com 
 pany with a pretty, light French comedy of two 
 acts. It was performed with great vivacity, and 
 the ladies, as in every thing they undertake, dis 
 covered a sprightly, pretty genius. After the 
 play, the gardens, which are extensive, were well 
 illuminated, and the company strolled through 
 them. At the extremity of the walk was a very 
 spacious hall formed by grape-vines, well lighted, 
 with music, and the young part of the company 
 
LETTERS. 199 
 
 soon fell a dancing. For the graver, a band of 
 good music kept constantly playing soft, gentle 
 tunes, whose melody attracted not a few, and 
 furnished amusement for those who thought the 
 gardens and the night air better avoided. Time 
 passed thus until one, when a very elegant sup 
 per was served. If I was to take this as a stand 
 ard, I should suppose supper to be their favourite 
 meal. After supper, the company rose and return 
 ed to the dance, I had enough, and went to bed. 
 The French seem determined to lose no opportu 
 nity in ingratiating themselves every where by 
 their politeness and affability. Apropos: the 
 French ambassadress here is elegance itself ; she 
 appears about five or seven and twenty, with a 
 most perfect form, and a soft animating counte 
 nance. You ask me about Spanish ladies it is 
 the kingdom of ugliness ; the polite circle here is 
 handsome, and what I have seen of their man 
 ners, I like them something better than their 
 neighbours. But I ll tell you the whole story 
 when I see you ; until I reach Falmouth, adieu. 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Falmouth, August 20th, 1787. 
 
 Perhaps by this time you may have received my 
 last from Lisbon. I have now the pleasure of in 
 forming my friend of my arrival here this day in 
 the packet from that place, rather a little deranged 
 
200 LETTERS. 
 
 by my journeys and voyage, at least rendered 
 much lighter. I shall lose no more time in being 
 with you, than what an attention to my health 
 requires. My business at Lisbon was brought to 
 a very agreeable and honourable period, and I 
 left it well satisfied ; a little pride, which some 
 times on occasion I can bring into play, and a 
 little address, produced wonders, and made the 
 diplomatic corps stare. I came off with the Con 
 tinental colours flying, and shall soon have the 
 happiness of laying them at your feet. Kiss the 
 boy, and remember me to papa and mamma. I 
 am, my dear, yours sincerely and affectionately, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 xxni. 
 
 Falmouth, August 22d, 1787. 
 
 I wrote you, my love, the first thing I did after my 
 landing here on the 20th ; I then proposed setting 
 off from this, yesterday or this morning ; but I am 
 in check. I was yesterday at 4 o clock, visited by 
 an ague and fever, which shook and warmed me 
 alternately pretty tolerably ; this day I am free 
 from it, and with the advice of a very good doctor 
 who attends me, I hope soon to be allowed to put 
 myself in motion towards one who possesses all my 
 affections and merits all my love. The acquaint 
 ance which I formed in this place when I arrived 
 from America, and the letters of introduction which 
 I brought from Lisbon, insure me every civility and 
 
LETTERS. 201 
 
 respect I can wish. I am visited and attended in a 
 very particular manner, and want for nothing but 
 to be enabled to bid them farewell, and hasten to 
 you. It is a painful detention to be so near, and 
 upon the same island, and not be able to advance. 
 You must not write, my friend, for I am in hopes 
 before this reaches you to be on my way to you. 
 I shall pass through Exeter, Tauriton, Bath, 
 Marlborough, &c., as being the best road hav 
 ing the best horses and accommodations for a 
 few days longer, and this painful separation I 
 hope will be at an end. Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 XX IV. 
 
 Exeter, August 27th, 1787, Monday, 
 
 half past four o clock, P. M. 
 
 I have run away thus far from my fever, my 
 friend, and find myself increasing in health and 
 spirits as I get nearer to you but I am little 
 more than a travelling shadow. I have had a 
 tight time of it, as we Yankees say, but thank 
 Heaven it is over, and 7 once more permitted to 
 advance upon the delightful theatre of health ; the 
 real charms of which none but those who have 
 been forced by the arrangements of Nature, or 
 who have fallen from it by their own folly, or 
 imprudence, seem to be proper judges of, and 
 even some of them upon their restoration, run on 
 heedless of the lesson. I shall compose myself 
 
202 LETTERS. 
 
 for this day, and get in motion again about nine 
 to-morrow, and lodge atTaunton to-morrow night, 
 and thus gently I am obliged to approach. I hope 
 after I pass Bath, to be able to be a little more 
 lengthy in my journey ; at any rate, 1 think I may 
 venture to say, you may expect me to dinner on 
 Friday. 
 
 Heaven bless and protect you and the dear boy. 
 Remember me to sir and mamma. Yours, 
 
 w. s. s. 
 
 TO MISS ADAMS. 
 
 Paris, August 13th, 1783. 
 
 MY DEAR DAUGHTER I 
 
 I have received your affectionate letter of the 
 10th of May, with great pleasure, and another 
 from your mother of the 28th and 29th of April, 
 which by mistake I omitted to mention in my 
 letter to her to-day. Your education and your 
 welfare, my dear child, are very near my heart ; 
 and nothing in this life would contribute so much 
 to my happiness, next to the company of your 
 mother, as yours. I have reason to say this by 
 the experience I have had of the society of your 
 brother, whom I brought with me from the Hague. 
 He is grown to be a man, and the world says they 
 should take him for my younger brother, if they 
 did not know him to be my son. I have great 
 satisfaction in his behaviour, as well as in the im 
 provements he has made in his travels, and the 
 
LETTERS. 203 
 
 reputation he has left behind him wherever he 
 has been. He is very studious and delights in 
 nothing but books, which alarms me for his 
 health ; because, like me, he is naturally inclined 
 to be fat. His knowledge and his judgment are 
 so far beyond his years, as to be admired by all 
 who have conversed with him. I lament, how 
 ever, that he could not have his education at Har 
 vard College, where his brothers shall have theirs, 
 if Providence shall afford me the means of sup 
 porting the expense of it. If my superiors shall 
 permit me to come home, I hope it will be soon ; 
 if they mean I should stay abroad, I am not able 
 to say what I shall do, until I know in what ca 
 pacity. One thing is certain, that I will not live 
 long without my family, and another is equally 
 so, that I can never consent to see my wife and 
 children croaking with me like frogs in the Fens 
 of Holland, and burning and shivering alternately 
 with fevers, as Mr. Thaler, Charles, Stephen, and 
 myself have done : your brother John alone had 
 the happiness to escape, but I was afraid to trust 
 him long amidst those pestilential steams. 
 
 You have reason to wish for a taste for history, 
 which is as entertaining and instructive to the fe 
 male as to the male sex. My advice to you would 
 be to read the history of your own country, which 
 although it may not afford so splendid objects as 
 some others, before the commencement of the late 
 war, yet since that period, it is the most interest- 
 
204 LETTERS. 
 
 ing chapter in the history of the world, and before 
 that period is intensely affecting to every native 
 American. You will find among your own an 
 cestors, by your mother s side at least, characters 
 which deserve your attention. It is by the female 
 world, that the greatest and best characters among 
 men are formed. I have long been of this opinion 
 to such a degree, that when 1 hear of an extraor 
 dinary man, good or bad, I naturally, or habitually 
 inquire who was his mother? There can be no 
 thing in life more honourable for a woman, than 
 to contribute by her virtues, her advice, her ex 
 ample, or her address, to the formation of an hus 
 band, a brother, or a son, to be useful to the world. 
 Heaven has blessed you, my daughter, with an 
 understanding and a consideration, that is not 
 found every day among young women, and with 
 a mother who is an ornament to her sex. You 
 will take care that you preserve your own char 
 acter, and that you persevere in a course of con 
 duct, worthy of the example that is every day be 
 fore you. With the most fervent wishes for your 
 happiness, I am your affectionate father, 
 
 JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 TO MRS. SMITH. 
 
 Philadelphia, Feb. 21st, 1797. 
 DEAR CHILD: 
 
 I believe I have not acknowledged your favour 
 of the 20th January, which I received in its 
 season. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 205 
 
 I hope your apprehensions that " the party who 
 have embarrassed the President, and exerted them 
 selves to divide the election, will endeavour to 
 render my situation as uncomfortable as possi 
 ble," will be found to be without sufficient foun 
 dation ; I have seen, on the contrary, a disposition 
 to acquiesce, and hope it will increase. I am not 
 at all alarmed ; I know my countrymen very 
 well. 
 
 If the way to do good to my country, were to 
 render myself popular, I could easily do it. But 
 extravagant popularity is not the road to public 
 advantage. 
 
 By the 4th of March I shall know what to do. 
 I cannot build my house till the foundation is 
 laid ; at present I know not what house I shall 
 have, nor what means to furnish it. These things 
 will be determined in ten days. At present I be 
 lieve it will be best for your mother to remain 
 where she is until October. I shall go to her as 
 soon as I can. 
 
 Your brother John continues to give the high 
 est satisfaction to government by his great indus 
 try, his deep discernment, his independent spirit, 
 and his splendid talents. I hear such commen 
 dations of him as no other man abroad obtains. 
 
 In your solitary hours, my dear daughter, you 
 
 will have a delightful opportunity of attending to 
 
 the education of your children, to give them a 
 
 taste and attachment to study, and to books. A 
 
 18 
 
206 LETTERS. 
 
 taste for science and literature, added to a turn for 
 business, never can fail of success in life. With 
 out learning, nothing very great can ever be ac 
 complished in the way of business. But not only 
 a thirst for knowledge should be excited, and a 
 taste for letters be cultivated, but prudence, pa 
 tience, justice, temperance, resolution, modesty, 
 and self-cultivation, should be recommended to 
 them as early as possible. The command of their 
 passions, the restraint of their appetites, reverence 
 for superiors, especially parents, a veneration for 
 religion, morals, and good conduct. 
 
 You will find it more for your happiness to 
 spend your time with them in this manner, than 
 to be engaged in fashionable amusements, and 
 social entertainments, even with the best com 
 pany. 
 
 But I must restrain myself, and subscribe the 
 name of your affectionate father, 
 
 JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 TO MRS. SMITH. 
 
 Quincy, September 26th, 1802. 
 MY DEAR DAUGHTER: 
 
 I received last night your favour of the 17th, 
 and thank you for the pamphlet you sent me ; I 
 had read those before. Most of the pamphlets are 
 sent me by one and another, as well as the news 
 papers. 
 
 To read so much malignant dulness is an 
 
LETTERS. 207 
 
 odious task, but it cannot well be avoided. I 
 have the history, too, of my administration. Good 
 God ! is this a public man sitting in judgment 
 on nations ; and have the American people so 
 little judgment, taste, arid sense as to endure it? 
 
 The history of the Clintonian Faction, as it is 
 called, I shall be glad to see. The society he as 
 serts to exist, and which you say has not been de 
 nied, I fear is of more consequence than you seem 
 to be aware of. 
 
 But to dismiss this society for the present. 
 There is another set of beings who seem to have 
 unlimited influence over the American people. 
 They are a detachment, 1 fear, from a very black 
 regiment in Europe, which was more than once 
 described to me by Stockdale of Piccadilly, whom 
 you must have seen at my house in Grosvenor 
 Square. " Mr. Adams," said the bookseller, " the 
 men of learning in this town are stark mad. I 
 know one hundred gentlemen in London of great 
 learning and ingenuity, excellent writers upon 
 any subject, any one of whom I can hire at any 
 time for one guinea a day, to write upon any 
 theme, for or against any cause, in praise, or in 
 defamation of any character." A number of the 
 most profligate of these have come to this country 
 very hungry, and are getting their bread by de 
 stroying all distinction between right and wrong, 
 truth and falsehood, virtue and vice. 
 
 You speak of " moderate people on both sides ;" 
 
208 LETTERS. 
 
 if you know of any such, I congratulate you on 
 your felicity. All I know of that description are 
 of no more consequence than if there were none. 
 Commerce will decline, and the revenue fail. 
 What expedient the government will have re 
 course to, 1 presume not to conjecture. I mourn 
 over the accumulated disgraces we are bringing 
 on ourselves, but I can do nothing. 
 
 The prisoners from St. Domingo will be dan 
 gerous settlers in the southern states. The French 
 care very little whether turning them loose is in 
 sult or injury, provided we will cordially receive, 
 or tamely connive at them. 
 
 My health is good, and my spirits would be 
 high, if the prospect before us did not present 
 clouds portending bad weather. 
 
 My love to Col. Smith and the children. The 
 young gentlemen, I hope, think of Greece and 
 Italy. I am your affectionate father, 
 
 JOHN ADAMS. 
 

LETTERS. 209 
 
 TO MISS SMITH. 
 
 Quincy, January 24th, 1808. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE I 
 
 To-morrow will be a fortnight since you left 
 me * ; I have watched the weather with much so 
 licitude, and when we had snow, as we had the 
 Thursday after you set out, I hoped it might 
 speed your journey, provided there should not be 
 too great a quantity ; although the storm was se 
 vere and cold on Saturday, it was pleasant sleigh 
 ing. I flattered myself we should enjoy it for a 
 week or ten days, but so changeable the season 
 that on Monday we had a partial thaw. If you 
 have had similar weather I fear you have not 
 reached your journey s end. We were rejoiced 
 to hear from you at Worcester, and afterward at 
 Northampton. A letter from a travelling friend 
 is a great treat to those who sit by their fire 
 sides, compassionate their toils, sometimes fancy 
 ing that they must suffer from the cold, from the 
 snow, from the rain, hard beds, scanty clothes, 
 small pillows. &c. But patience, my dear girl, 
 will make a smooth road where the pick-axe has 
 never levelled the inequalities, and soften the 
 mattress and the pillow. 
 
 18* 
 
210 LETTERS. 
 
 You will find new scenes opening before you ; 
 in the venerable oaks, you must fancy you see 
 the image of those grandparents you have left 
 behind, and every tree of the forest you must pic 
 ture some friend or acquaintance, even to our little 
 A., who daily calls for you. You must write me 
 how you spend your time, what are your daily 
 occupations and amusements, what acquaintance 
 you make with the quail, the partridge, and the 
 pheasant. If you find sufficient amusement in 
 the winter, the spring will give you new employ 
 ment, and new pleasures. 
 
 " You must mark how spring the tended plants, 
 How Nature paints her colours, how the bee 
 Sits on the bloom extracting liquid sweets." 
 
 I shall fancy you flitting about among the trees 
 gathering the sweets of the season. Your friends 
 were all much surprised at your sudden flight, 
 and regret that they had not the opportunity of 
 bidding you adieu. I shall send my regards to 
 uncle Justus, and congratulate him on the acqui 
 sition of his female friends; tell him they will 
 make the wilderness blossom like the rose, and 
 add much comfort, I hope, to his domestic happi 
 ness. He deserves, I think, all they can bestow. 
 
 I think of you more on Sunday than on any 
 other day. If you cannot attend public worship, 
 you can spend your Sabbaths in a useful manner, 
 as Mr. W. told us to-day, every moment should 
 be devoted to some useful purpose, that we might 
 
LETTERS, 211 
 
 ask the moments as they passed, what report they 
 bore to Heaven that the more we cultivated and 
 improved our intellectual powers, the more capa 
 ble we should be of enjoyment in a higher and 
 more perfect state of existence ; the nearer we 
 should be allied to angels, and the spirits of just 
 men made perfect ; and that in order to cultivate 
 our faculties to advantage, we must have order and 
 method in all our affairs. 
 
 I am called to close my letter, yet I have not 
 said half I intended ; take it as it is, warm from 
 the heart of your affectionate grandmother, 
 
 A. ADAMS. 
 
 TO MISS SMITH. 
 
 Quincy, May 28th, 1808. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 Your letter of May the 8th, your grandpapa 
 brought home with him from church, on Sunday 
 the 20th ; owing to sickness I was not able to go, 
 and am yet confined to my chamber. My fever 
 and cough are both leaving me, and I hope a few 
 days more will give me health sufficient to enjoy 
 the fine season. 
 
 I have been reading a novel called the Wild 
 Irish Girl. Why the term wild is given, I know 
 not, unless as a ridicule upon those who imbibe 
 national prejudices, merely from vague report. 
 She is represented as living in an ancient barony 
 with her father, who in the wars had been de- 
 
212 LETTERS. 
 
 spoiled of his property, and had retired with his 
 daughter, her old nurse, and Father John, a learn 
 ed, polite, and liberal minded priest, from whom 
 she received her education. Here she lived, a 
 recluse from the world, but with a lively imagi 
 nation, a sportive fancy, a devotion to music, 
 which she practised upon her harp, the favourite 
 instrument of her country. She studied, and was 
 perfectly versed in the historic knowledge of her 
 native land ; as a resource, she became a botanist, 
 and on a thousand occasions, displayed such a 
 love of nature and its productions, which she de 
 scribes so artlessly, with such a vivid display of 
 superior powers, that she charms and enchants 
 the reader. She had gathered the first rosebud 
 of the spring, which she had watched with much 
 care, and presented to a young stranger, whom 
 chance had led to the barony, and who had for 
 some months been an inmate there, and who at 
 the request of her father had been her preceptor 
 in drawing. In return she repeated to him a lit 
 tle ode from the French. "Oh beautiful! beauti 
 ful!" exclaimed Glorvina, "I thank you for this 
 beautiful ode; the rose was always my idol flower 
 in all its different stages of existence ; it speaks a 
 language my heart understands, from its young 
 bud s first crimson glow, to the last sickly blush 
 of its faded bloom; it is the flower of sentiment 
 in all its sweet transitions ; it breathes a moral, 
 and seems to preserve an undecayingsoulin that 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 213 
 
 fragrant essence which still survives the bloom 
 and symmetry of the fragile form which every 
 beam too ardent, every gale too chill, injures and 
 destroys." 
 
 Your little darling A. has been sick, and looks 
 like the flower or the bud in its faded form, which 
 I have just been describing ; more interesting in 
 decay than bloom one exciting all the pleasing 
 sensations, the other a softer and tenderer senti 
 ment. 
 
 Our friends here are all well. To-morrow 
 will be our general election day; the embargo 
 should not be complained of by the federalists, for 
 it has increased their number ten fold, and will 
 be like to give them such a weight in the coun 
 cils of the nation, as no other measure of a peace 
 able kind could have effected. 
 
 TVith the love and affection of the whole family, 
 jointly and severally, I close my letter to my dear 
 Caroline, and am her truly affectionate grand 
 mother, A. A. 
 
 Quincy, August 30th, 1808. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE ! 
 
 Your apology for not having written before was 
 accepted by your grandmother. To be attentive 
 to our guests is not only true kindness, but true 
 politeness ; for if there is a virtue which is its own 
 reward, hospitality is that virtue. We remember 
 slight attentions, after we have forgotten great 
 
214 LETTERS. 
 
 benefits ; sweetness of temper, easiness of be 
 haviour, and kindness of disposition, are pecu 
 liarly engaging in youth, and when found in age, 
 adorn life s decline. But why need I recommend 
 these virtues to my dear girl, when she has one of 
 the first patterns for her imitation before her in 
 her father, whose cordial hospitality, and true po 
 liteness, are known to all who have any knowl 
 edge of him, either in the camp, the city, or the 
 wilderness ? Were it not for this, and the excel 
 lent example you have before you, for prudence, 
 moderation, and discretion, in another character, 
 I should fear you would become rusticated, and 
 lose that polish, which is of some value in the 
 polite world, and without which, I have known 
 many a talent hidden under a bushel, instead of 
 shedding a lustre all around.* A. A. 
 
 Quincy, Feb. 2d, 1809. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 I have not written to you this year, and this is 
 the second month of it ! and let us ask the rising 
 year, now open to our view yet wrapped in dark 
 ness, whither dost thou lead ? Let cheerful hope 
 receive the welcome guest, gratefully recollecting 
 the many blessings of the past year, and commit 
 ting ourselves to the wise and overruling Provi 
 dence, who suffers not a sparrow to fall to the 
 ground without his notice. 
 
 I have sympathized with you in the trouble you 
 
 * Only a part of this letter is given. 
 
LETTERS. 215 
 
 have experienced since I wrote to yon last ; first 
 upon account of the dangerous accident your 
 uncle met with, and then upon the death of a do 
 mestic. I know your mind is susceptible offender 
 impressions; these were implanted in the human 
 breast for wise purposes. You have cause for 
 great thankfulness, that although death entered 
 your habitation, your uncle was spared to you, 
 whose loss would have been much more to be de 
 plored and lamented, than the one whom it pleased 
 Heaven to take. Death at any time, and in any 
 form, is a solemn event. 
 
 " Nor is the heavenly warning vain, 
 Which calls to watch and pray." 
 
 I have now to thank you for your charming 
 letter of December. Cultivate, my dear, those 
 lively spirits, and that sweet innocence and con 
 tentment, which will rob the desert of its gloom, 
 and cause the wilderness to bloom around you. 
 Destitute of these qualifications, a palace would 
 not yield satisfaction, or the most affluent circum 
 stances bestow peace of mind, or tranquillity of 
 heart. Always remember that you are account 
 able to that being who brought you into existence, 
 for your time and talents ; that you were not born 
 for yourself, but to fill every hour with some 
 useful employment, as says the song : 
 
 " Man was created for useful employ, 
 
 From earth s first creation till now ; 
 And tis good for his health, his comfort and joy, 
 To live by the sweat of his brow." 
 
216 LETTERS. 
 
 Do not say grandmamma preaches. I know 
 my Caroline thinks and reflects seriously, and she 
 will lay up these admonitions, and value them 
 when her grandmother can no longer indite them. 
 I treasure up and venerate many of the maxims 
 of my good grandmother Quincy, as the most 
 precious of relics ; with her, I passed my early, 
 wild, and giddy days, for of such I had my full 
 share ; but 
 
 " Her easy presence chocked no decent mirth ; 
 She still remembered that she once was young, 
 And laughing would instruct." 
 
 Have you a world of snow ? We have a much 
 larger quantity than last year. It is my misfor 
 tune to be confined to the house at this season ; 
 snow does not suit my constitution, it gives me 
 the rheumatism; I have more of it now than is 
 agreeable ; the Dr. has put me on calomel and 
 opium pills, and a water gruel regimen ; I hope 
 it will go off in a few days ; confinement does 
 not suit me or my family. 
 
 Does W. go to Philadelphia ; or does he wait 
 for the day to dawn? it is time to look for a 
 change. Where the light is to spring up I know 
 not ; the people of this state are wrought up to a 
 high tone. I hope they will be induced to keep 
 the peace, and try all lawful means for redress. 
 God defend us from a civil war ; but oppression 
 will produce it, and our rulers will have much to 
 answer for. You say you hate politics ; but 
 
LETTERS. 217 
 
 when your native country is so seriously threat 
 ened, you cannot be a descendant from the spirit 
 of 76, to be totally indifferent to what is passing. 
 From your affectionate grandmother, 
 
 A. A. 
 
 Quincy, August 12th, 1809. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 Last Saturday my dear children and grand 
 children sailed in the ship Horace, Capt. Beckford, 
 for St. Petersburg!! ; this separation from a dear 
 son, at the advanced age both of your grandfather 
 and myself, was like taking our last leave of him, 
 and was felt by us both with the keenest anguish. 
 Our hearts were "garnered up in him," perhaps 
 too closely, and we were called to this trial to 
 wean us from too strong an attachment to this 
 earth. 
 
 "Hope which springs eternal in the human 
 breast," whose figure is represented as leaning up 
 on an anchor, still whispers a consolation to which 
 the sorrowing heart still clings, and is buoyed 
 up by it, that we may yet meet again. To the 
 Sovereign Disposer of all events, I would strive 
 cheerfully to submit. I could sustain the separa 
 tion with more fortitude if one equally dear to me* 
 was not also separated far from me, though not in 
 a foreign land, yet so distant, that I am cut off 
 from all personal intercourse ; that I can hear 
 
 * Mrs. Adams only daughter, Mrs. Smith. 
 
 19 
 
218 LETTERS. 
 
 frequently from her is a comfort and consola 
 tion to me. "I would not," says Mrs. Grant, 
 whose letters I have sent your mamma, I think, 
 u desire to live a day longer, than while my heart 
 was warmed by an affectionate intercourse with 
 those I love." 
 
 To you I have long been indebted for a letter, 
 which merited a much earlier reply ; I knew 
 you were enjoying the society of your young 
 and valued friends, therefore was the less anxious 
 about writing, as I was so fully occupied in my 
 own family. Be assured of the aifection of your 
 grandmother,* A. A. 
 
 Quincy, Dec. 9th, 1809. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE I 
 
 Thursday, 30th November, was our Thanks 
 giving Day; I was not able to attend church, 
 owing to my eye, which I regretted : our good 
 minister is always excellent upon particular oc 
 casions ; I am told he was upon this. 
 
 At dinner I looked round, I hope with a thank 
 ful heart, but alas ! how many of my dear child 
 ren were absent, not one of them to give pleasure 
 to the festive table ; the young shoots and branches 
 remained ; I had two from each family ; these 
 promising successors of their dear parents rejoiced 
 over their plum-puddings without knowing what 
 were the reflections and anxious solicitude of 
 their grandmother, respecting some of their absent 
 parents. 
 
 * Only a part of this letter is given. 
 
LETTERS. 219 
 
 For health, food, and raiment, for peace, and for 
 society, and unnumbered other favours, may my 
 heart pour forth its grateful effusions, and in the 
 words of the poet I may say, 
 
 " When all thy mercies, O my God ! 
 
 My rising soul surveys, 
 Transported with the view, I m lost 
 In wonder, love, and praise." 
 
 That no inroad has been made by death amongst 
 any of my near and dear connections, is a sin 
 cere source of grateful remembrance ; may the 
 lives and health of every branch be prolonged, 
 until, like a shock of corn fully ripe, we may be 
 gathered to our fathers. 
 
 No apology is ever necessary to my dear C. 
 for any serious reflections which may fall from 
 the pen of her aged grandmother ; reflection be 
 comes all ages, and she does not the less delight 
 in the innocent gayety and vivacity of youth ; 
 
 " She still remembers that she once was young." 
 
 I am rejoiced to find that you intend to turn 
 your spinning wheel; the more we are qualified 
 to help ourselves, the less dependent we are upon 
 others ; from the present temper of old England, 
 it looks as if we should be less her customers than 
 formerly. I would recommend the use of them 
 in every family. We had better return to the 
 pastoral age, than suffer the domination of any 
 foreign power. 
 
 It is said, that the Emperor Augustus wore no 
 
220 LETTERS. 
 
 clothes but such as were made by the Empress 
 and her daughters ; and Olympias did the same 
 for Alexander. 
 
 The web of Penelope is well known to you, as 
 related by Homer in his Odyssey ; her maids who 
 attended her are admonished by Ulysses to retire 
 with her, and with a delicate reprimand for their 
 delay 
 
 " To whom the king. Ill suits your sex to stay 
 Alone with man ! ye modest maids, away ! 
 Go with the Queen, the spindle guide or cull, 
 (The partners of her cares) the silver wool." 
 
 Thus, my dear girl, you have before you some 
 of the most ancient, illustrious examples to excite 
 your ambition and imitation. Your mother ac 
 cuses me of a neglect in her education upon this 
 head, and I plead guilty to the charge ; I would, 
 by my advice to you, endeavour to rectify my de 
 ficiency towards her. I might have added to my 
 list of worthies, Solomon s virtuous woman, who 
 seeketh wool and flax, and worketh willingly 
 with her hands. 
 
 I have long been indebted to you for a letter, 
 but my finger atone time, and my eye at another, 
 have prevented my writing the evening would 
 be valuable to me for my correspondence if my 
 eyes would bear me out. Old age with its in. 
 firmities assail me. I have reason to be thankful 
 that my senses are so much in action, that my 
 hearing is not at all impaired, but my memory 
 
LETTERS. 221 
 
 and recollection are not what they once were. 
 My heart is still warm, and my affections fervent 
 towards my dear children and friends : when they 
 cease to beat for their welfare and happiness, na 
 ture itself will expire, and the cold hand of death 
 close the eyes of your affectionate grandmother, 
 
 A. A. 
 
 Quincy, Aug. llth, 1811. 
 
 MT DEAR CAROLINE ! 
 
 I do not know how our account stands, whether 
 I am indebted for a letter or you, but I shall not 
 be very strict with you ; I am always delighted 
 with your letters, whether to me or to Susan ; 
 we talk daily of you. and wish for you, and 
 when I think how far you all are from me, I am 
 ready to sit down and weep. 
 
 We go on much in the old way here now and 
 then a large party, then a few friends. A. A. 
 
 Aug. 6th, 1812. 
 
 MT DEAR C. 
 
 I received your letter this day, written from 
 Springfield ; this has been a relief to us to hear 
 that you were well, and that your dear mother 
 bore her journey so well. 
 
 After you left me I felt no restraint upon me, 
 
 and could give way to all I felt and all I had 
 
 suppressed ; my harp was upon the willow, and my 
 
 spirits at a very low ebb ; I have in some meas- 
 
 19* 
 
222 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 ure recovered them, and follow you daily upon 
 your journey : when 1 think of my privations, I 
 am silenced by a recollection of my many bless 
 ings. 
 
 I enclose you a volume from H., and I have 
 written to your mother so lately, that I have not 
 a brain prolific enough to entertain you. 
 
 I could inform you that our old gardener went 
 to France in the winter, and did not expect to re 
 turn soon enough in the spring ; we have another 
 in his stead, who, like most successors, finds fault 
 with his predecessor, that this should have been 
 so, and that, otherwise ; accordingly he must make 
 alterations time must prove whether for the 
 better. The season, although cold, is more for 
 ward than last year ; the grain failed in all parts 
 of the state, and there would have been a want 
 and scarcity with us, if we had no other cause ; 
 but the blockade of our harbours has cut off the 
 coasting trade, we cannot get grain but by land 
 from the south, which renders it very high. Flour 
 is at 17 dollars a barrel ; this is a calamity which 
 I hope will not last long if we have a fruitful 
 season bread, the staff of life and the chief re 
 liance of the poor, should be kept low. 
 
 Our seventy-fours are building ; our little navy 
 shows what we should have done if it had not 
 been impeded in its growth: but to compare 
 great things with small, the successor to the 
 father of the navy, like the gardener, thought 
 
LETTERS. 223 
 
 that this was not necessary, and that might be 
 laid aside, taxes were repealed, lest our revenue 
 should be so abundant that we should commit 
 mischief with it. Blindness to the future, I will 
 not say in this instance, kindly given. Well, you 
 tell H. she must not write politics ; now it is just 
 as natural for me to fall upon them as to breathe ; 
 it distresses me to see so many of my kindred 
 and acquaintance, whom I love and esteem, going 
 blindfold, as I think led astray by deceivers, as 
 cribing views and designs to the government of 
 which I know them to be innocent. 
 
 Come, let me quit this subject. How many 
 cows do you have upon the farm ? How many 
 ducks have you raised ? How many chickens ? 
 We have found them so mischievous, we have 
 banished them all ; not a solitary hen upon our 
 territories, or a stately cock rears his head upon 
 the place. 
 
 I was called away last evening before I could 
 close. In the evening we have a room full some 
 times to overflowing. We have an agreeable ad 
 dition in Mr. A. s family ; since his return from 
 abroad they have been frequent in their visits to 
 us. He is the most sensible, intelligent gentle 
 man of all our society; rational and liberal upon 
 all political subjects. He has been to Lisbon, and 
 to Portugal, associated with English and French 
 officers of army and navy, and returns to his own 
 country, astonished at the partiality that prevails 
 
224 LETTERS. 
 
 in favour of foreign countries, and at the opposi 
 tion to the government of our own. Well, here 
 I am again, upon the old topic ; all I can say in 
 excuse is, that out of the abundance of the heart 
 the mouth speaketh. I want to see you all. 
 With love, regard, and esteem, and without com 
 pliment, I am as ever, yours, A. A. 
 
 TO COL. W. S. SMITH, WASHINGTON. 
 
 Quincy, October 1st, 1819. 
 DEAR SIR : 
 
 It is already three weeks since you left us ; I 
 have not any knowledge of your progress farther 
 than New-Haven, where General Humphreys in 
 formed me that he had the pleasure of meeting 
 you. 
 
 I wish to hear from you, although I cannot ex 
 pect that you have anything agreeable of a pub 
 lic nature to communicate, from the desolate 
 walls of Washington. I will, however, turn my 
 face from that forlorn place, and congratulate you 
 upon the triumphant victory of McDonough, up 
 on Lake Champlain; and of McCombs at Platts- 
 burgh, which has brightened the splendour of 
 our arms, and gathered fresh laurels for our 
 country. But we must entwine the yew with the 
 laurel, over the bier of the heroic sons of Colum 
 bia, whose lives paid the forfeit of their valour. 
 
 I wish for information respecting our connec 
 tions at Washington: from judge Cranch, letters 
 
LETTERS. 225 
 
 have been received by his friends here, but I do 
 not know anything of our other friends, whether 
 they have been sufferers. Will you be so good as 
 to inform yourself, and write me word ? 
 
 Boston continues to be fortified in every direc 
 tion, and the numerous troops collected there, 
 drilled and disciplined seven hours every day. 
 All apprehension of an attack upon it this year 
 appears to be dissipated. 
 
 I perceive the apple of discord is thrown out in 
 Congress, and the removal of the seat of govern 
 ment proposed. A warm opposition no doubt 
 will ensue, arid the powerful name of the founder 
 of Washington, will prevail to keep you there. 
 
 I should like to hear how you are accommo 
 dated ; I know you can submit to privations like 
 an old soldier. 
 
 Clouds and darkness hang over us ; ways and 
 means are one of the most difficult obstacles we 
 have to contend with ; public credit is shaken, 
 and the banks trembling. Where the ark of our 
 safety is to rest, time must unfold. We are all 
 well. I am. dear sir, affectionately yours, 
 
 A. A. 
 
 Quincy, September 27th, 1814. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 This morning s post brought me your letter of 
 the 20th. We were all delighted ; grandfather s 
 tears watered his cheek when he read the letter; 
 
226 LETTERS. 
 
 Susan skipped with all her warmth and ardour, 
 into every part of the scene. 
 
 " In joyous youth, what soul hath never known, 
 Thoughts, feelings, taste, harmonious to its own." 
 
 S. walked her mile and a half to communicate 
 the grateful tidings ; every heart and eye parti 
 cipated with you. 
 
 I shall not say anything about the wonders of 
 the world, for this reason, I know not what to 
 say ; yet I cannot help feeling pity, or commis 
 eration for Buonaparte ; to what part of the world 
 can he flee? Some say America! I do not want 
 him here, although I think he would be quite 
 harmless, deprived as he is, of all power, author 
 ity, and means. 
 
 By the help of one night s refreshing sleep, I 
 am enabled to write to you this morning, know 
 ing not what the morrow may bring forth. Four 
 score and ten is an age, when we can neither ex 
 pect health, or much strength, when our strength 
 is weakness. I cannot say that I have no pleas 
 ure in my days ; I have abundant in this, my sick 
 ness. I have had kind, attentive friends, a skil 
 ful physician, and every human aid : is there not 
 pleasure in all this? and unto the Great First 
 Cause be the praise. 
 
 Dear, tempting child, how pleased I should be 
 to make you the visit you so pathetically urge ; 
 but would it not be too hazardous for your grand 
 father, at his age, to undertake ? True, we en- 
 
LETTERS. 227 
 
 joy as much health, and as good spirits as can be 
 expected, and more than we had reason to look 
 for, considering the many scenes we have passed 
 through ; but we must finish our course in our 
 own habitation, and not venture beyond a day s 
 journey. I might be hazardous enough to run 
 the risk, but I would not have your grandfather, 
 who yet may outlive me, though so many years 
 older. So, dear girl, we thank you for your in 
 vitation, and feel at our hearts, the value of it, 
 but must content ourselves with the hope, if we 
 live, of seeing you and yours the next spring. 
 
 I have lately been reading Lady Morgan s 
 France ; she is entertaining, and gives us many 
 pleasant anecdotes. I do not like her affectation of 
 new words ; the reviewers may properly attack 
 them she is, however, an interesting traveller 
 to me, although no favourite with the English. 
 
 To rise with dignity, and fall with ease, is a 
 very desirable qualification ; but such is the frail 
 ty of human nature; adversity is better calculated 
 to call forth the virtues, than prosperity, which 
 puffeth up, and is unseemly. 
 
 I have not yet thanked you for your letter from 
 New-York. I entered into all your feelings so 
 simply and pathetically described, while wander 
 ing through scenes which awakened recollections 
 to "joys that were past, never to return." 
 
 How much does the heart pant for the renewal 
 of those affections, which once so cordially greet- 
 
228 LETTERS. 
 
 ed an absent friend, when visiting the same spot ; 
 the unbidden tear starts, and memory sighs, all, all 
 is changed a new set " come tittering on, and 
 push us off the stage." 
 
 But while this heart beats, and this hand hath 
 warmth, and reason retains its seat, my dear Car 
 oline will be joyfully received and welcomed by 
 her affectionate grandmother, A. A. 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Quincy, Oct. 23d, 1814. 
 
 MT EVER DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 If you find as many joyful faces to receive you, 
 as you have left sorrowful hearts behind you, you 
 will have no reason to complain. When upon 
 former occasions you have been separated from 
 me, it was always with the expectation of having 
 you again with me ; since I have considered you 
 as mine, you have been to me one of the chief 
 props and supports of my declining years. By 
 your watchful attention, and cheerful readiness 
 to prevent even my wants, you have rendered 
 yourself so necessary to me, as to be the solace of 
 my days. It is natural to feel a privation in pro 
 portion to our enjoyments; what then, think you, 
 is the void left in my breast ? True, I have other 
 comforts in the faithful and constant attention of 
 Louisa, and the sprightly vivacity of Susan. 
 
 Your letter to my venerable friend, Mrs. War 
 ren, was received by me and forwarded to her. 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 229 
 
 " Tell my dear Mrs. Adams to write to me, or to 
 see me very soon, else we only meet in Heaven," 
 was one of the last expressions of your departed 
 friend, my ever to be respected mother. Thus 
 writes her son to me upon the 19th : " Upon the 
 18th the imprisoned spirit ascended from the de 
 cayed and ancient fabric. She had but a few days 
 of suffering." 
 
 I may with truth say, that take her all in all, 
 we shall not look upon her like again. String 
 after string is severed from the heart ; the lamp 
 of life burnt bright to the last. Dr. Freeman told 
 me she wrote him a letter upon the 6th of the 
 present month, when she entered her 87th year. 
 I rejoice that you visited her ; your remembrance 
 of her will always be pleasant. Seldom does old 
 age wear so pleasing, so instructive an aspect. 
 To me she was a friend of more than fifty sum 
 mers ripening. 
 
 Yesterday completed half a century since I en 
 tered the married state, then just your age. I have 
 great cause of thankfulness that I have lived so 
 long, and enjoyed so large a portion of happiness 
 as has been my lot. The greatest source of un- 
 happiness I have known in that period, has arisen 
 from the long and cruel separations which I was 
 called in a time of war, and with a young family 
 around me, to submit to. 
 
 My pen runs on, " but," as the gallant Adam 
 20 
 
230 LETTERS. 
 
 said to Eve, "with thee conversing I forget all 
 time." 
 
 That you and the rest of my posterity may en 
 joy as large a share of felicity as has fallen to me, 
 is the sincere wish and prayer of your affection 
 ate grandmother, A. A. 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Quincy, Feb. 19th, 1815. 
 
 Bad as my eyes are, I cannot refrain from wri 
 ting a few lines to dear Caroline, and thanking 
 her for her last welcome letter, and congratula 
 ting her upon the restoration of peace to our be 
 loved country, an event, although earnestly de 
 sired, unexpected as to the time. 
 
 May we receive it as a moral and religious 
 people, and ascribe praise to that Being who ru- 
 leth among the inhabitants of the earth, who ma- 
 keth our enemies to be at peace with us, and who 
 hath recently given such success to our arms, as 
 is wondrous in our eyes. History does not fur 
 nish a parallel to the victory at New-Orleans ; I 
 mean as it respects the difference of numbers 
 slain. If it were not from the mouth of many 
 witnesses I should have discredited it, until it was 
 sanctioned by the official letter of General Jack 
 son. 
 
 The loss of our frigate the President, I lament 
 as a sacrifice of lives, but not of national honour. 
 To surrender to such a superior force, after en- 
 
LETTERS. 231 
 
 gaging and silencing a frigate of equal force, and 
 three to one, withers no laurels on the brow of 
 Decatur. Not a single ship-of-war belonging to 
 us, but has gathered fame and renown for our 
 country. Our armies too were becoming formi 
 dable ; our forces for the last eighteen months 
 have restored the honour, and retrieved the repu 
 tation so much injured at the commencement of 
 the war ; and the late glorious victory at New- 
 Orleans, closes the war with a lustre upon the 
 American arms which time will not efface. 
 
 And what with her thousand ships, and tens of 
 thousand troops, has Great Britain to boast of? 
 Will the destruction, not of the city, but of the 
 public buildings of an infant city, unfortified, and 
 almost unarmed, emblazon her prowess, or trans 
 mit her valour to posterity ? No ! elated as was 
 the Prince Regent, exulting in his shame, he gave 
 orders to have the mighty deed translated into all 
 the foreign languages of Europe, and sent to their 
 different courts, and how was it received? With 
 disgust, with abhorrence ! so that when their am 
 bassador in France, Lord Wellington, made a 
 grand fete, and gave a ball in celebration of the 
 event, not a single foreign minister accepted the 
 invitation. 
 
 That the successful invasion of that city will 
 be an indelible stain upon the administration, I 
 must admit ; but still the Gothic barbarism of the 
 British administration, which could direct and 
 
232 LETTERS. 
 
 sanction such a deed, will go down to future ages 
 with shame and disgrace. 
 
 I think you are right to take every opportunity 
 of seeing and becoming acquainted with your own 
 country. Although we are yet in the infancy of 
 improvement, as it respects the fine arts, when 
 compared with ancient countries ; yet there is 
 not one which history presents, where religion 
 and government are so happily combined to pro 
 mote the happiness and prosperity of the people, 
 where liberty and independence were so well un 
 derstood, and amply enjoyed. We all send an 
 abundance of love to you, and yours. From your 
 affectionate, A. A. 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Boston, June 5th, 1816. 
 
 After a year s absence I came yesterday to make 
 a visit to my friends for three days. Our anxiety 
 to hear from you, led me to send to the office this 
 morning for letters; there I found yours of May 
 3 1st, containing tidings that my fears had antici 
 pated, as you will find when you receive my last 
 letter. 
 
 My dear child, you will be again called to se 
 vere and afflictive scenes ; may you be prepared, 
 sustained, and supported through them, by that 
 Almighty Power, which calls you to the trial ; I 
 feel the stroke as a renewal of what I have passed 
 through, and as an anticipation of what I may be 
 
LETTERS. 
 
 233 
 
 called to endure, yet a little while, and I also shall 
 join the great congregation. 
 
 If your father should survive for you to see 
 him, and receive this letter from me, before he 
 departs, give my kindest love to him, and say to 
 him, [ hope to meet him and my dear daughter, in 
 the world to which we are hastening. I can add 
 no more, my heart is full ; ever your affectionate 
 grandmother, A. A. 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Quincy, June 21st, 1816. 
 
 It was with a heavy heart and trembling hand, 
 that I yesterday broke the seal of your letter to 
 your uncle. 1 knew that he was gone to Boston, 
 and as I had not any letter myself, I could not 
 wait in such suspense ; the contents of the letter 
 has left me little expectation of hearing that the 
 lamp of life is not nearly extinguished. 
 
 I had written thus far, when Louisa brought 
 me the paper, with the notice of your dear father s 
 departure on the 10th. 
 
 Have I lived to this day, to mourn with my 
 dear child the loss of both parents ? little did I 
 think the last winter, that I should have been the 
 survivor ; I weep with you, and pray you may 
 be supported by that Almighty Power, who has 
 called you to this trial. 
 
 I have not expected you to write to me, dis 
 tressed as you must have been. How much we 
 20* 
 
234 LETTERS. 
 
 have all wished we could have been near you, to 
 have alleviated some of your sorrows, by sharing 
 them with you. Thus my dear children, you 
 have all honoured your father and your mother ; 
 may you all inherit that blessing which is prom 
 ised to those who keep that commandment. Mer 
 cies are mingled in your cup. My heart is too 
 full to write. I am, dear child, your affectionate 
 grandmother, A. A. 
 
 Quincy, January 29th, 1818. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 As Dean Swift says, " eyes with writing almost 
 blind," I commence a letter to you, near ten 
 o clock at night, after having written seven letters 
 to go abroad by the Milo. 
 
 I have been wishing to write to you all the 
 week, but last Friday, in a snow storm, who 
 should corne to make me a visit, but Mrs. Gushing, 
 who is always a welcome guest ; she stayed until 
 Tuesday ; I could not leave her to write. 
 
 We find so little here to interest us beyond our 
 domestic concerns, that few subjects arise to ruffle 
 the calm, which so tranquilly surrounds us. 
 
 The only one which creates a public sensation, 
 is the battle of Bunker Hill, as lately published by 
 General Dearborn, in which he has attacked the 
 military character of General Putnam. This has 
 roused the indignation of the son of the General, 
 and he replies with no small share of severity, ai 
 
LETTERS. 235 
 
 the same time with a filial respect, love, and ven 
 eration, which cannot fail to interest every reader. 
 He has written a letter to your grandfather, as to 
 one of the oldest survivors of the revolution, res 
 pectfully requesting him to inform him, if he had 
 known, or ever heard, in Congress, or out of it, 
 any dissatisfaction with the conduct of General 
 Putnam, upon the memorable 17th of June, 1775 ? 
 He wishes for the information, whether it may 
 tend either to honour or dishonour. 
 
 " I desire no favour or concealment, for how 
 ever alive 1 may feel to a sense of injury, prompted 
 by envy and selfishness ; truth, from a source so 
 respectable and impartial as that of President 
 Adams, will be always held in the same reverence 
 and treated with the same respect, whether it bears 
 the marks of censure or condemnation." 
 
 " His honest fame is the most precious inheri 
 tance he left his family ; and having been his con 
 stant attendant from the commencement of the 
 revolution to the last moment of his life, I will 
 defend it, if need be, at the expense of every other 
 earthly hope." 
 
 Such a high sense of filial affection and duty, 
 with such honourable feelings, so pathetically ex 
 pressed, drew tears from my eyes when I read the 
 letter, to which I can by no means do justice with 
 out the whole. 
 
 Mr. Holly is going to Washington, and from 
 thence to Kentucky, where he is invited to be 
 
236 LETTERS. 
 
 President of a College. He prefers to go and see 
 the country and the people, before he gives an 
 answer ; to this purpose, he has obtained leave of 
 absence for three months, and proposes to visit the 
 great and the gay scenes at Washington, to visit Mr. 
 Madison and Mr. Jefferson. Last Monday, he and 
 Mrs. H. came and passed the day with us. He is a 
 very pleasant companion ; one need be only a 
 hearer ; he has a mind vivid, active, inquisitive, 
 ardent, comprehensive ; shall I say profound ? He 
 is only 35 years of age ; can a man be profound at 
 that age ? He says he will not print even a ser 
 mon until after 40. He certainly belongs to the 
 family of the Searches ; he is very eloquent, a 
 fine person, as you know. 
 
 And now dear Caroline, if 1 could have flour 
 ished over my paper as you do, I should have cov 
 ered three sides, but I had rather have a little than 
 none at all. Let me hear from you, it lessens the 
 distance that separates us. Adieu, dear girl ; kiss 
 the babes for me, and believe me in cold weather 
 and warm, in all seasons and times, your affec 
 tionate grandmother, A. A. 
 
 Quincy, March 22d, 1818. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 " Delightful praise, like summer rose, 
 That brighter in the dew-drop glows." 
 
 They were sweet drops which flowed from the 
 heart to the eyes both of your grandfather and 
 grandmother, when I read to him the two letters 
 
LETTERS. 237 
 
 you had transcribed to your uncle and to your 
 father, in commendation of your brother. You 
 could not have offered a sweeter incense to your 
 grandfather ; and flowing from the pen of an old 
 friend of your father s, it carried the marks of sin 
 cerity, without the alloy of adulation, and merits 
 a grateful return. " A good name is better than 
 precious ointment ; it is the immediate jewel of 
 the soul." 
 
 The freshet which carried away the bridges, 
 and made such havoc with the roads, together 
 with the robbery of the mail, has prevented our 
 regular communication, and 1 suspect I have lost 
 a journal ; I enclose you the only one you have 
 not seen. 
 
 I hear that Duane has got hold of my letter to 
 Niles, and spits forth vulgar abuse at me and the 
 Secretary of State, who had not any more to do 
 with the subject than the Emperor of China. He 
 has revealed who the person was, who sent the 
 ungentlemanly refusal to dine ; how he knew, I 
 cannot divine he abuses him also ; but the low 
 sarcasms of these people affect me no more at this 
 day than the idle wind. 
 
 I have not seen, only heard of the laudable ef 
 forts of those foreigners, who will foment a party 
 spirit if they can. They wish to engage us in a 
 war with Spain ; and finding our growth rapid, 
 and our national strength increasing in propor 
 tion, more than one European power would re- 
 
238 LETTERS. 
 
 joice to find us embroiled with any power which 
 could retard our progress ; they know the admin 
 istration is averse to war, they think to abuse it 
 with impunity. 
 
 I was much gratified to see the overpowering 
 vote of the house to reject the Spanish petition ; 
 an unprecedented attempt in any country, to ap 
 peal from the sovereign to the Parliament. Ge 
 net appealed to the people at large, which he found 
 abortive. 
 
 The Boston subscription for the bust soon filled, 
 although no person was allowed to subscribe more 
 than two dollars; a very respectable committee 
 was sent, with a short and handsome address upon 
 the occasion, and on Thursday the artist came. 
 He takes the bust first in clay ; he has been a part 
 of three days engaged upon it ; he does not re 
 quire any formal sitting ; he works with much 
 ease ; his name Binon. a Frenchman by birth, 
 with all the vivacity of his nation ; quite a gen 
 tleman, and well acquainted with books; he has 
 passed twelve years in Italy ; he will have an ad 
 mirable likeness. 
 
 I have never before heard of Cox s Female Bi 
 ography ; I should like to read it. Many of the 
 female characters in Scripture, both of the Old and 
 New Testament, do great honour to the sex. It 
 is a pleasing and grateful circumstance, to read 
 in the life and character of our Saviour, the af 
 fection and tenderness which he manifests to wo- 
 
LETTERS. 239 
 
 men to Mary, to Martha, to the widow of Sa 
 maria, and many others. 
 
 It grows too dark to see or write ; so with love 
 to you and yours, I am your affectionate 
 
 A. A. 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Montezillo, Jan. 1, 1820. 
 
 MY DEAR CAROLINE : 
 
 I wish you a happy New-year, and as many new 
 years as your nature can bear, in health, peace, 
 and competence, with your children like olive- 
 plants about your table. 
 
 But be sure to make them all, male and female, 
 children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren, 
 work hard with their own hands, so as to be able 
 to command their own livelihood, by their indus 
 try, economy, and sagacity. 
 
 I am very glad to find that you are in corres 
 pondence with my friend Vanderkemp. This 
 correspondence will amuse you, and if you are 
 not very learned, will instruct you. But even he 
 does not know every thing ; he was ignorant un 
 til a few days ago, that inoculation for the small 
 pox was first introduced into the British empire 
 in the town of Boston. By this time he knows 
 that Dr. Zabaliel Boyleston, a younger brother of 
 my grandfather, Peter Boyleston of Brookline, in 
 oculated his own children in 1720, one hundred 
 years ago, and after that inoculated his negroes 
 
240 LETTERS. 
 
 at their express desire, and carried his own family 
 safe through the distemper. His success in his 
 own house, encouraged others in his neighbour 
 hood to run the risk. He inoculated all who 
 would submit to the operation. The fame of his 
 success in the town of Boston spread to England, 
 and produced an invitation to him to embark for 
 that country, to inoculate the royal family. He 
 did embark, but before he arrived, the royal child 
 ren had acquired courage enough to trust their 
 own surgeons. 
 
 Our collegians are gone to Washington ; they 
 must necessarily spend a winter of dissipation 
 but they are all so smitten with the charms of lit 
 erature, that I hope they will continue faithful 
 and true. 
 
 We are all in good health here, eighteen in 
 number. I am, as ever, your affectionate grand 
 father, JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 P. S. Since I have written the above, I have 
 picked up a good story. 
 
 Of two noblemen in the neighbouring countries, 
 one had a son, the other a daughter ; the son fell 
 in love with the daughter, and solicited her fath- 
 ers s consent, that he should pay his addresses to 
 her. Her father asked him " how will you main 
 tain her?" He answered "according to her rank." 
 "Rank! what rank have you, or has she?" He 
 answered " the rank of her father." " What have 
 
LETTERS. 241 
 
 children to do with the rank, or fortunes of their 
 parents ? rank and fortune in reversion are nei 
 ther rank or fortune. Have you any profession, 
 occupation, trade, office, or employment, by which 
 you can get your own living?" " No, my lord, 
 I have none." " Then you shall never have my 
 daughter ; I will never give my daughter to any 
 one who cannot maintain himself and her too." 
 u Very well, my lord, have patience with me ; I 
 will endeavour to show your lordship that I can 
 maintain myself and your daughter." 
 
 A basket maker in the neighbourhood was ma 
 king great profits by the manufacture of curious 
 baskets, which he sold for their elegance and 
 taste, for a very great price. To this man the 
 young lord went, and gave him sufficient reward 
 to teach him the art ; in which he made so great 
 a proficiency, that in one year, he became a more 
 exquisite workman than his master or his appren 
 tices. He immediately carried some of his own 
 handy-work to the old nobleman. " Here, my 
 lord, I am now an independent man ; with these 
 productions, with my own hands, I can maintain 
 myself and your daughter in a manner that will 
 make us both perfectly happy, without any aid 
 from either of our parents." " Then if you have, 
 or can obtain her affections, she shall be yours." 
 
 JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 21 
 
242 LETTERS. 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Montezillo, January 24th, 1820. 
 
 MY DEAR GRANDAUGHTER I 
 
 This year completes a century since my Un 
 cle Boylston introduced the practic of inoculation 
 into the English dominions ; but what improve 
 ments have been made, since 1720, partly by ex 
 perience, but much more by the discovery of Dr. 
 Jenner ? The history of this distemper is enough 
 to humble human pride ! enough to demonstrate 
 what ignorant puppets we are ! how we grope in 
 the dark ! and what empty phantoms we pursue ! 
 
 You are not singular in your suspicions that 
 you know but little. The longer I live, the more 
 I read, the more patiently I think; and the more 
 anxiously I inquire, the less I seem to know. 
 
 Why should the " Vaccine " have been conceal 
 ed from all eternity, and then instantaneously re 
 vealed ? Why should the material world have 
 slept in nonentity from eternity, and then created 
 or awakened into existence ? 
 
 Worm ! ask no such questions ! do justly, love 
 mercy, walk humbly. This is enough for you to 
 know, and to do. The world is a better one than 
 you deserve ; strive to make yourself more wor 
 thy of it. 
 
 So questions, and so answers your affectionate 
 grandfather, 
 
 JOHN ADAMS. 
 
LETTERS. 243 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Oldenbarneveld, February 25th, 1820. 
 
 MY DEAR AND RESPECTED MADAM ! 
 
 I mast acknowledge that some time ago, I fos 
 tered the expectation of being gratified with a few 
 lines from your hand, and although I was disap 
 pointed, yet could not persuade myself that I was 
 forgotten. 
 
 Your cousin s supposed departure, the concerns 
 of a numerous family. Is it not strange that J 
 was not struck with the possibility of sickness and 
 trouble, which might have prevented it, or should 
 these confine themselves to old age, while silent 
 ly they undermine the tottering frame? At least, 
 I did not think upon it, and yet it was the case, 
 and I trust that fully recovered, and hurried up in 
 the capital, your frame shall be strengthened in 
 the spring. 
 
 My contentment at Cedar Grove, my dear Car 
 oline, was so perfect, my enjoyments so exquisite, 
 that I do not only recollect these often, but grati 
 fy myself in renewing these communications to 
 my family and friends. I was indeed happy dur 
 ing those three days, and was it in my power, I 
 would strive to renew it ; but at my age, in my 
 situation, the prospect towards it is not bright, al 
 though even this is not a cause to mourn. We 
 ought rather to be thankful for every share of bliss 
 with which we are favoured. 
 
244 LETTERS. 
 
 You know me too well, to doubt for a single 
 moment, if a copy of John Adams s letter would 
 gratify me ; but who is that lady so accomplished 
 as to captivate a nearly nonaganarian, and place 
 him in such an ecstacy? But I do not envy the 
 happiness of my so highly respected and beloved 
 friend ; his last days are his best days, and the 
 blessings of his contemporaries, and posterity must 
 be a delightful repast for his children and grand 
 children. 
 
 Remember me with kindness to Mr. de Windt; 
 this shall strengthen the impression, if any good 
 one was made in rny favour, by my visit, and 
 obliterate the less favourable. Mr. Lawsori s cour 
 tesy cannot be forgotten by me, which received a 
 higher value, from his modesty and frankness. 
 He is the third British soldier with whom I be 
 came acquainted, and how should I be pleased 
 might I see the trio under my humble roof. 
 Should Lawson dare try the adventure he will be 
 cordially received by an old brother soldier. 
 
 Believe me, my dear Caroline, that the remem 
 brance of Mrs. Adams s virtues and accomplish 
 ments, must be first erased from my heart, before 
 seeing you pressing her steps, I can ever cease 
 to be, dear and respected madam, your affectionate 
 
 and obliged friend, 
 
 FRANCIS ADRIAN VANDERKEMP. 
 
LETTERS. 245 
 
 TO MRS. DE WINDT. 
 
 Montezillo, July 12th, 1820. 
 
 MT DEAR CAROLINE ! 
 
 You have Harriet with you, and consequently 
 we are deprived of the weekly information she 
 used to give us of your health and welfare ; but 
 now we very rarely get any, either from yourself 
 or her ; pray write to me now and then at least, 
 to let me know that you, and Mr. de Windt, and 
 the little prattlers, are all well ; by no means for 
 getting ths venerable mother. 
 
 I was not able to accept the condescending in 
 vitation of the government of the state, and the 
 various societies in Boston, to celebrate the 4th of 
 July ; though my head would have struck the 
 stars, if I could have made so glorious a figure, 
 as my ancient, excellent friend Carroll, made at 
 Baltimore on that day. But the heat of the season, 
 with the pomps and ceremonies, could not have 
 been supported with my feeble frame. 
 
 I should have been delighted to have heard 
 my friend Mr. Lyman, who, I am informed, pro 
 nounced an elegant and masterly oration. Pray 
 tell Miss Welsh, that this same friend of ours, Mr. 
 Lyman, has sent me a rich and costly entertain 
 ment, which I am constantly devouring with as 
 keen an appetite and relish, as I ever felt in my 
 youthful or riper days. The life of the Earl of 
 Chatham, in three volumes ; Hude s Journey over 
 land from Hindostan to England : Chalmer s Life 
 21* 
 
246 
 
 LETTERS. 
 
 of Mary Queen of Scots, in two volumes ; many 
 of Scott s novels. And in general I think this 
 writer has well merited his knighthood, and a 
 much higher order of nobility ; for his writings 
 have a tendency to inform and reform mankind, 
 for no man can read them, without disgust at the 
 horrid crimes, miseries, and violences, arising 
 from the superstition, fanaticism, and hypocrisy, 
 which have prevailed so scandalously in all the 
 ages of which he writes. I have reserved for the 
 last the life of Lady Russell. This I have not 
 yet read, because I read it more than forty years 
 ago. On this hangs a tale which you ought to 
 know and communicate to your children. I 
 bought the life and letters of Lady Russell, in the 
 year 1775, an.d sent it to your grandmother, with 
 an express intent and desire, that she should con 
 sider it a mirror in which to contemplate herself; 
 for at that time I thought it extremely probable, 
 from the daring and dangerous career I was deter 
 mined to run, that she would one day find herself 
 in the situation of Lady Russell, her husband 
 without a head. This Lady was more beautiful 
 than Lady Russell, had a brighter genius, more 
 information, a more refined taste, and at least her 
 equal in the virtues of the heart ; equal fortitude 
 and firmness of character, equal resignation to the 
 will of Heaven, equal in all the virtues and graces 
 of the Christian life. Like Lady Russell, she never 
 by word or look discouraged me from running all 
 
LETTERS. 247 
 
 hazards for the salvation of my country s liberties; 
 she was willing to share with me, and that her 
 children should share with us both, in all the dan 
 gerous consequences we had to hazard. My love 
 to Mr. de Windt and to the dear little ones. My 
 affectionate respects to the lady mother ; love to 
 Harriet. Your affectionate grandfather, 
 
 JOHN ADAMS. 
 
 THE END. 
 
ERRA.TA.. Page 33, 20th line from top, for Molire e, read Molicre. Page 
 202, 18th line, insert am. Page 203, 20th line, for Thaler, read Thaxter. 
 
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