Title: [September 1788]
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

      September 1. 1788.

       Rain. Pass’d the evening with Stacey.

      2.

       Finished Hume and Blackstone. Little &c.

      Wednesday September 3d.

       I went over the river with Stacey and Romain upon a shooting party. We had tolerable success. It was very windy; and with a heavy boat and only one oar, we had some difficulty to get across the river. Bridge arrived this day in town. I proposed to him to go with me to-morrow: and he has partly promised to accept my proposal. I this evening informed Mrs. Leathers of my intention to change my lodgings.

      Thursday September 4th.

       Left Newbury-Port this morning with Bridge: we dined at Putnam’s in Dan vers. Very indifferent entertainment. After mistaking our road, and going to Winisimet ferry, we finally got to Cambridge a little before 9 o’clock. Lodg’d at Bradish’s.

      Friday September 5th.

       The assembly at the anniversary of the Ф.B.K. was more numerous than I have known it. There were near forty members present, among whom were two from Dartmouth college. Lincoln, who was to have been one of the speakers obtained leave to be excused on account of ill health. The governor, happening to be here with the admiral, and some other officers of the french squadron, now in Boston harbour, honoured us with his presence; as did all the college officers.
       I spoke the oration which is hereto annexed, after which we retired to the butler’s chamber: the french Consul, who had likewise attended came there to compliment me &c. After doing what business was necessary, we all went down to Warland’s and dined together; and the festive board crowned the enjoyments of friendship.

          An Oration.
          Spoken, at the request of the ΦBK Society at Cambridge, September 5th. 1788.
          Among the various objects which attract the attention of a youth about to enter upon the scenes of active Life, a view of the prospects before him, and of the Fortunes which expectation leads him to imagine will attend him affords one of the most fruitful sources of contemplation. From an anticipation of futurity, and from the recollection of the past, we chiefly derive the variety of mental enjoyment; and at an early period of life, as we are necessarily precluded in a great measure from the satisfaction arising from the one, the mind naturally recurs more frequently and with a firmer confidence to the other. It must however be acknowledged that we are often prone to view the distant objects through the deceptive medium of fansy, or of the passions.
          Should a concurrence of agreeable circumstances, lead us to the contemplation of this subject, at a time when the spirits are elated by the temporary impulsion of successful satisfaction, we soar rapidly upon the wings of a flattering imagination, and soon lose ourselves bewildered amidst the magnificent objects with which we have adorned the road around us. Unmindful of the precarious tenure by which all human enjoyments are held, we behold Fortune and Fame emulously striving to invest us in the possession of all the blessings which they can impart, and in the ardor of juvenile exultation eastern opulence is scarcely competent to the satisfaction of our avarice, eastern grandeur to that of our ambition. But should some untoward event occur, to awaken us from these fantastic dreams, we descend with rapidity from the visionary elevation, and sink as far beneath the level of rational probability, as we had before been raised above it. The path of life becomes rugged with thorns: a thousand obstacles apparently stand before us, and the approach to the seats of happiness, like that to the garden of the Hesperides seems under the perpetual custody of fiery dragons. We dwell with involuntary terror upon the ideas of the malice, the treachery and envy which we expect from our fellow mortals untill we are ready to imagine that our Life is to be a state of continual warfare with the whole human race. The baseless fabric of our hopes vanishes like the phantom of a fairy tale, and the mind oppressed by the contemplation of these gloomy objects is almost ready to settle in a state of sullen despondency.
          I presume your own feelings, my worthy friends, will testify that this representation can scarcely be charged with exaggeration: and yet, why on the one hand, should we ever indulge ourselves in expectations which never can be realized; why on the other, anticipate evils, which can surely never come too late.
          Egregiously indeed should we deceive ourselves were we to imagine that in the course of a life of ease and contentment, we could obtain the enjoyments of riches or of honour. It is by a combination of indefatigable industry and rigid oeconomy that great wealth is acquired; for when we have done all that can depend upon ourselves, when we have laboured without intermission, and been sparing even to parsimony, still we frequently experience that “bread is not always to the wise nor yet riches to men of understanding.” Great honours we must remember are the reward of great exertions. The reputation of a Statesman or a Warrior is generally proportioned to the distresses from which he relieved or attempted to relieve his country; and the defeats of Thrasymene and Cannae are monuments erected to the fame of the elder Scipio, no less glorious than the victory of Zama.
          When we contemplate the atchievements of the numerous train of heroes whose names, through the successive revolutions of four hundred years, adorn the annals of the roman republic our bosoms are animated with an ardent desire to emulate their virtues. We admire the undaunted fortitude with which every danger was braved, we admire the invincible resolution and perseverance, with which every difficulty was overcome, in the defence of their country: and when these virtues are recommended by such illustrious examples, the most exalted minds will fervently wish for opportunities to display those qualities which command the admiration of mankind. But when we consider, that those atchievements could never have been performed had not their Country during the same period been engaged in a perpetual struggle to maintain her very existence against her hostile and surrounding neighbours; when we reflect upon the dreadful calamities which the republic underwent, and how often she was brought to the brink of destruction, the rude and imperious calls of ambition must yield to the soft, persuasive eloquence of humanity, and a sentiment of real patriotism, must forbid us from pursuing the painful preeminence.
          But if we should carefully avoid a delusion which by promising unreal advantages exposes us to the mortification of disappointment, how much more reason have we to shun another, which by threatening future distresses, embitters the present moment with the reality of woe. If we can circumscribe our desires within rational bounds; if we can be contented with a situation which affords the most essential enjoyments, we may safely conclude ourselves in a great measure, independent of external circumstances. There is a certain station in life, which if well filled will entitle us to the respect and esteem of our fellow citizens, without holding us up exposed to the envenomed shafts of rancorous envy. The rewards of Reason are proportioned rather to the improvement than to the magnitude of the trust; and in her impartial eye we may presume that the man whose usefulness is confined only by the limits of his opportunities to serve his fellow mortals, is no less meritorious than the founder of an empire or the discoveror of a world.—Such is the Divine, whose paternal labours are calculated to instruct, to enlighten and to improve the minds of the flock committed to his charge: whose periodical precepts teach the importance of the great duties of morality and religion, and whose exemplary sanctity of manners endears the virtues which from the sacred desk he earnestly recommends.—Such is the patriotic merchant whose industrious activity is exerted to promote the public interest in connexion with his own, and who by encouraging the agriculture and manufactures of his Country, enlarges the sphere of her beneficial commerce, and liberates her from the humiliating shackles of european dependency.—Such is the lawyer, who, disdaining the base and servile arts of chicanery and intrigue, uniformly exerts his learning and his talents in the cause of injured innocence and of truth.—And such is the humane physician, whose skill and benevolence are directed to the alleviation of the complicated miseries with which humanity is burthened; who, called to the assistance of human nature in all the variety of physical distress, administers not only the restoring preparation to the languishing body; but the balm of consolation to the wounded mind.
          The combined advantages of utility and respectability, are not however confined to these professions. In a free country where honour consists not in idleness, the farmer, the mechanic, and the tradesman maintain the dignity due to their station, and become active constituent parts of the political body.
          As the regulation of our conduct must in some measure, depend upon the sentiments which we form in the anticipation of our future appearance in life, it may be of some importance to lay a restraint upon the freedom of a wanton imagination, and to view ourselves seated for life, in one of these intermediate stations where removed “Far from the madding crowd’s ignoble strife” we may spend our days with happiness to ourselves, and with usefulness to our fellow mortals. If notwithstanding all our precautions we are destined to become the sport of adverse Fortune, and to undergo evils against which no human prudence can guard, at least the cruel stings of disappointed ambition will not add a poignancy to our woes. If on the other hand the blind capricious deity should bestow upon us unexpected favours, we shall be better enabled to improve the advantages which she may offer; to follow her with cautious steps, and to stop without disgrace wherever she may show a disposition to forsake us.
          There is indeed one form under which Ambition assumes not merely the form, but with it all the amiable attractions and all the conscious dignity of Virtue. It is in the desire to appear conspicuous in the walks of literature and Science. An ambition, which to the members of the institution, at whose request I appear in this place, which to the sons of Harvard in general, must present itself under an aspect peculiarly engaging. Its gratification depends, not upon the destruction, but upon the improvement of mankind. The trophies erected to the Muses are not upon plains drenched in human gore, but in the hearts of the virtuous and the wise: and although the vulgar of mankind will always bestow more liberal applause upon their destroyers than upon their benefactors, yet the generous and humane will ever esteem the passage through the portico of Science, to be the most honourable avenue to the temple of Fame.
          The situation of an infant country is necessarily unfavourable to an extensive encouragement of literary genius: the equality and mediocrity of fortunes renders an active profession necessary for the support of every individual: even those who are the most attached to the pursuits of Literature can view them only as a secondary object: in the ordinary course of human transactions the noblest faculties of the mind must droop and languish for want of culture and improvement.

             “Full many a flower be born to blush unseen
             And waste its sweetness on the desart air.”

            We find accordingly, that previous to the late revolution, America had produced so few men of great eminence, that European philosophers of no small note, arguing from this single fact, which is otherwise so well accounted for, have ventured to affirm, that Nature, like a partial step-mother had distributed her favours very unequally between the inhabitants of the two hemispheres: that a smaller portion of the etherial spirit had been allotted to man, on this than on the other side of the atlantic; and in the presumptuous pride of human reason, they have been almost tempted to deny us the honours of the species, and to assign us a station among the inferior animals of creation. This humiliating theory is ere this well exploded. The late revolution has brought forth american characters in arts and arms whose reputation is limited only by the boundaries of the civilized world: one of our most illustrious countrymen has successfully combated the insulting system in all its connections: and his performance carries an internal evidence in favour of his opinions; as unanswerable, as the arguments and the facts which he adduces.
          It becomes then incumbent upon the rising generation to maintain in all its lustre the splendid reputation which our country has acquired. To you therefore who are conscious of possessing the divine spark of transcendent genius, suffer me to express my ardent desire, that you may cherish the generous flame: that, in the various departments of Philosophy and History; of Oratory and Poetry, you may extract from this blooming garden of Science, such fragrant sweets, as shall hereafter diffuse their salutary influence throughout this extensive continent: that you may live to enjoy the fruits of a reputation founded upon your extensive usefulness to mankind; and that, after treading honourably the theatre of human life, when the scene shall close, and the curtain drop, you may be dismissed from the stage of action, with the unbounded plaudits of a grateful and admiring universe.

       We separated early in the afternoon, and I went and paid a visit at Dr. Waterhouse’s, and at Mr. Williams’s. I went to Boston; where Bridge left me; and I took up my brother Tom. We met my classmate Tom Chandler, who just came from Hallifax: we got to Braintree between 7 and 8 o’clock, where I found Mr. Parsons, who pass’d the evening with us but lodg’d at Mr. Woodward’s.

   Two other contemporary MS copies of JQA’s Phi Beta Kappa speech are in the Adams Papers. These include his draft copy, dated 24 July-6 Aug., and a loose copy, presumably made from the draft. Excluding the one exception noted below, these two copies contain only minor stylistic changes from the Diary copy (M/JQA/46, Adams Papers, Microfilms, Reel No. 241; “An Oration,” originally microfilmed under the date [1786–1787]).

   This and the next quotation are from Thomas Gray, “Elegy written in a Country Churchyard.”

   At this point JQA made the following notation: “Notes upon Virginia, by Thomas Jefferson Esqr.” The whole passage at the end of this paragraph, beginning with “one of our most illustrious countrymen,” was added to the speech after JQA wrote his draft copy.

      6.

       Saltmarsh. Read. Mr. Cranch’s.

      Sunday September 7th. 1788.

       The Marquis to Sainneville, commander of the french Squadron now in the harbour, and the Chevalier Maccarty de Martegues captain of the Achille, dined here to day. Several other officers were detained by the badness of the weather.

   In his line-a-day entry, JQA mentions “Meeting, forenoon” (D/JQA/13, Adams Papers, Microfilms, Reel No. 16).

      8.

       Company afternoon. Angier.

      9.

       Went over to Milton.

      Wednesday September 10th.

       The Governor with the Captains of the french vessells, the french Consul, and some other gentlemen dined with us.

      11.

       Mrs. Smith and Louisa. W. Cranch.

      Friday September 12th.

       I left Braintree to return to Newbury-Port. Found Bridge in Boston. Dined at Mr. Smith’s. We left Boston at about five o’clock and rode ten miles; to Newhall’s tavern; where we lodge.

      Saturday Septr. 12th. i.e. 13th.

       Breakfasted in Salem: saw Amory and Learned. Dined at Ipswich. We got to Newbury-Port, at about five. We lodge this night at Mrs. Hooper’s.

      Sunday Septr. 13th. i.e. 14th.

       I did not sleep a wink the whole night. My nerves are in a very disagreeable state of irritation. I attended meeting all day at Dr. Tucker’s, with Bridge. I called in the evening at Mr. N. Carter’s, and at Mr. Tufts’s to deliver letters. At Mr. Tufts’s I saw Mr. Shaw, who, I find preached for Mr. Andrews this day. I retired early, and went to bed, but could get no sleep. After laying about three hours, I got up and went over to Dr. Swett, and requested him to supply me with an opiate, which he did; it gradually composed my nerves, and gave me a few hours of sleep.

   This is the first of several references during the fall of 1788 to JQA’s uncertain state of health. David Musto has argued that he was in a depressed state of mind, owing to the pressure that his family was placing on him to distinguish himself (to perpetuate the “family myth”) and to his own worries about his future in an overcrowded legal profession. Musto’s explanation for the resolution of these difficulties, which apparently occurred only months later, is largely undocumented (“The Youth of John Quincy Adams,” Amer. Philos. Soc., Procs.American Philosophical Society, Proceedings., 113:269–282 [Aug. 1969]).

      15.

       Sleepless. Could do no business.

      16.

       Strolling about all day. Idle.

      17.

       Can neither read nor write.

      18.

       Training. Unwell out of spirits. Foster.

      19.

       Spent my time in visiting &c.

      Saturday September 20th.

       I have had three or four sleepless nights this weeks, and for the little rest I have enjoyed I have been indebted to soporific draughts. I dined this day with Mr. Parsons with Bridge and with Foster who took his station in the office on Thursday. This afternoon I mounted a horse and went to Haverhill where I am determined to spend a few days, and see if I cannot recruit my health. I found H. Lincoln here.

      21.

       Meeting afternoon. L. W. Mr. Thaxter.

      22.

       H. Lincoln. Dined with Mr. T. Mr. B’s.

      23.

       Lincoln went home. Dr. Price’s Sermons.

      Wednesday September 24th.

       Lincoln went yesterday for Hingham; I went with Mr. and Mrs. Shaw to Andover. There was a large company at Mr. Symmes’s; and after dinner we had a lecture, the Sermon was intolerably long. Singing remarkably good. We got back to Haverhill just after Sun-set. My Brother Charles with Daniel Russell arrived here this evening. Charles obtained leave to come and see me. Mr. Thaxter and his Lady pass’d part of the evening here.

      25.

       Mr. Noyes. Afternoon with White.

      26.

       Dined with Mr. Thaxter. Genl. Lincoln.

      Saturday September 27th.

       Another tedious sleepless night. Charles and Russell returned to Cambridge. I dined at Mr. White’s. And in the afternoon got a little sleep which greatly refreshed my drooping spirits. Mr. French was here in the evening.

      28.

       Meeting Forenoon. Mr. Marsh. L. White.

      29.

       Tea at Mr. Adams’s.

      Tuesday September 30th.

       The weather was not very favourable, but, as the court of common pleas was to sit this week in Newbury-Port, I concluded to return there. When I got home, I found Bridge unwell. Nothing done at court but preparatory business this day. I retired early to bed.


Title: Wednesday October 1st. 1788.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

          “Oh gentle sleep
          Nature’s soft Nurse, how have I frighted thee
          That thou no more wilt weigh mine eye lids down
          And steep my senses in forgetfulness.”

         In the present situation of my health I cannot possibly attend at all to study, and this circumstance with some others has determined me to spend some weeks, perhaps some months at Braintree. I spoke for a place in the stage which goes to Boston to-morrow. No business of consequence done at Court this day. Pass’d part of the evening at Mr. Jackson’s.


Title: Thursday October 2d.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       I took my seat in the stage, in Company with a Lady who came from Portsmouth, and Mr. Vaughan, a brother of the gentlemen with whom I was acquainted in London. It was seven in the evening before we got to Boston. I went to Mr. Smith’s; we pass’d part of the evening and lodged at Dr. Welch’s. Lodg’d at Mr. Smith’s.


Title: Friday October 3d.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       W. Cranch came into Boston with my father, who coming upon business which will detain him in town this night, gave me an opportunity to get to Braintree. I came home in company with my cousin.


Title: 4.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       My father came home.


Title: 5.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Weymouth at meeting. Dr. Tufts’s.


Title: 6.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Rode over to Milton in the afternoon.


Title: Tuesday October 7th.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. Murray the preacher who came from England with my father, came this day to pay him a visit, with his Lady whom he has lately married. He appears to be a man of an easy temper, and an ingenious mind, though not highly improved by learning. His wife is agreeable, though she appears a little tinctured with what the french call le precieux.


Title: 8.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went over to Hingham.


Title: 9.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Charles and Otis were here. Got up shelves.


Title: 11.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Medicine. Voltaire’s works.


Title: 12.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       At home all day. But dull somewhat. Rode.


Title: 13.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went to Milton. Put up books.


Title: Tuesday October 14th.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       My occupations have been very regular, and similar for a week past. Last Thursday night I again experienced a total want of sleep. By the help however of medecine and of constant exercice I think I am in a way to recover. This evening, my


Title: 15.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Company to dine. Mr. B. &c.


Title: 16.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Dr. Tufts &c. Mr. Shaw went to Hghm.


Title: 17.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Fine weather. Gunning with Tom. Townsend.


Title: 19.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Meeting to hear Mr. Wibird. W. Cranch. Andrews.


Title: 20.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Cranch went to Boston. Rain.


Title: 24.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Gunning in the morning with Charles. Tired.


Title: 25.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. Thaxter. Mr. and Mrs. Smith. Mr. Shaw.


Title: 26.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Heard Mr. Shaw. Cranch and Phillips.


Title: 27.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Splendid parade. Much company.


Title: 29.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went with Tom to Cambridge. Returned.


Title: 30.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. A. went to Boston. Charles to Cambridge.


Title: 31.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. A. returned. Company at dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Storer. C. Storer &c.


Title: November 1. 1788.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Rode as usual; and read Gibbon &c.


Title: 5.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       W. Cranch came from Boston. Fine weather.


Title: 6.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Evening at Mrs. Quincy’s. Parson Wiberd.


Title: 7.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. and Mrs. A went to Boston. Dined at Mr. Cranch’s.


Title: 8.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Quite lonesome. Mrs. C. came home.


Title: 9.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Parson Wibird dined at Mr. C’s. Folks came home.


Title: 10.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Madam preparing for New York.


Title: 11.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Rain all day. Cleared up in the evening.


Title: 12.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went to Boston. Mrs. A. N. York. Lodgd at Camb.


Title: 13.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Returned to Braintree in the forenoon.


Title: 14.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Justinian’s Inst. Foster’s Cr. Law. Gibbon &c.


Title: 16.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. Norton. He dined with us.


Title: 18.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Rode as usual. Read a variety at home.


Title: 19.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       My health happily recovered. Rain; part of the day.


Title: 20.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went to Mr. Cranch’s. Mrs. C. gone to Boston.


Title: 21.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Letter from Mamma. Hartford. Fed. Senators.


Title: 22.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went to Boston. Return’d with W. Cranch.


Title: 23.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. Everett of Dorchester: dined with us.


Title: 24.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Very warm; rainy, disagreeable weather.


Title: 25.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Charles came home from Cambridge.


Title: 26.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Wm. Cranch was here. Rode to Milton.


Title: 29.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Snow. Charles could not go to Cambridge.


Title: 30.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Mr. Wibird preach’d. Charles dined at Mr. C.’s.


Title: December 1. 1788.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Charles return’d to Cambridge.


Title: 2.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Winslow Warren. Rode in the afternoon.


Title: 3.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Gibbon 5th. vol. 4th. gone which I much regret.


Title: 4.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Very cold. At Mr. Cranch’s. Dr. Fogg. Mr. Thayer.


Title: 5.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Wm Cranch came from Boston. Heard from N. York.


Title: 6.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went to Milton with Wm. Cranch. He dined with us.


Title: 8.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Left Braintree. Went as far as Wilmington. Rain.


Title: 9.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Went to Haverhill. Wet through.


Title: 10.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Got to Newbury-Port. Ordination. Dancing.


Title: 11.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Dined with Mr. Tufts. Not very bright. Dr. Swett’s.


Title: 12.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Company chiefly gone. Russell. Rode with Thompson. Dancing again.


Title: 13.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Put my horse at Tappan’s. Eve with Dr. Kilham.


Title: 14.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Heard Mr. Ware. Preach’d admirably. D. Atkins.


Title: 15.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Attended the office. Read a little. Mr. Jackson’s.


Title: 17.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Snow storm. Went to Salem. Supp’d at Amory’s.


Title: 18.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Attended court. Sat late. Lodg’d with Mr. Atkins.


Title: 19.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Dined with Amory. Went to the ball.


Title: 21.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Heard Mr. Andrews, preach. Bouscaren. Mr. Carter.


Title: 22.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Very cold weather. Evening in the office.


Title: 23.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Cold continues. Eve at Judge Greenleaf’s.


Title: 26.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Returned to N. Port. Wrote in the Eve.


Title: 27.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Dined at Judge Greenleaf’s. Foster came home.


Title: 28.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Parson Allen preached. Snow storm.


Title: 29.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Thompson got home. Court at Mr. Atkins’s.


Title: 30.
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

       Eve at Dr. Sawyer’s. Mr. Boyd.—a youth.


Title: [December 1788]
From: Adams, John Quincy
To:

      December 1. 1788.

       Charles return’d to Cambridge.

      2.

       Winslow Warren. Rode in the afternoon.

      3.

       Gibbon 5th. vol. 4th. gone which I much regret.

      4.

       Very cold. At Mr. Cranch’s. Dr. Fogg. Mr. Thayer.

      5.

       Wm Cranch came from Boston. Heard from N. York.

   Presumably the letter written by AA to JA between 16 Nov. and 3 Dec., not found (JA to AA, (2 Dec, AA to JA, 3 Dec., Adams Papers).

      6.

       Went to Milton with Wm. Cranch. He dined with us.

      7.

       Mr. Cranch’s after meeting. Mr. C. quite unwell.

      8.

       Left Braintree. Went as far as Wilmington. Rain.

      9.

       Went to Haverhill. Wet through.

      10.

       Got to Newbury-Port. Ordination. Dancing.

   John Andrews, JQA’s frequent companion, was ordained associate minister of the First Religious Society of Newburyport, to assist the ailing Rev. Thomas Cary (Currier, NewburyportJohn J. Currier, History of Newburyport, Massachusetts, 1764-1905, Newburyport, 1906-1909; 2 vols., 1:253).

      11.

       Dined with Mr. Tufts. Not very bright. Dr. Swett’s.

      12.

       Company chiefly gone. Russell. Rode with Thompson. Dancing again.

      13.

       Put my horse at Tappan’s. Eve with Dr. Kilham.

      14.

       Heard Mr. Ware. Preach’d admirably. D. Atkins.

      15.

       Attended the office. Read a little. Mr. Jackson’s.

      16.

       Mr. Parsons &c went to Salem Court. Miss Coats.

      17.

       Snow storm. Went to Salem. Supp’d at Amory’s.

      18.

       Attended court. Sat late. Lodg’d with Mr. Atkins.

      19.

       Dined with Amory. Went to the ball.

      20.

       Cold weather. Came home with Bridge. Sleepy.

      21.

       Heard Mr. Andrews, preach. Bouscaren. Mr. Carter.

      22.

       Very cold weather. Evening in the office.

      23.

       Cold continues. Eve at Judge Greenleaf’s.

      24.

       Went to Haverhill. Colder than ever.

      25.

       Mr. Thaxter’s. Miss Hazen. Eve at Mr. Bartlett’s.

      26.

       Returned to N. Port. Wrote in the Eve.

      27.

       Dined at Judge Greenleaf’s. Foster came home.

      28.

       Parson Allen preached. Snow storm.

      29.

       Thompson got home. Court at Mr. Atkins’s.

      30.

       Eve at Dr. Sawyer’s. Mr. Boyd.—a youth.

      31.

       Eve with Foster at Mr. Jackson’s, He was out.


Title: Richard Cranch and John Adams to Mary Smith, 30 December 1761
From: Cranch, Richard,Adams, John
To: Cranch, Mary Smith

      Dear Miss Polly
      Germantown Decr. 30th. 1761

     I was at Boston yesterday and saw your Brother who was well. I have but a moments notice of an oportunity of sending to you the enclos’d which I took at your Unkle Edwards’s.

      I am, with compliments to your Family, your affectionate humble Servt.,
      R: Cranch

      Dr. Ditto

     Here we are Dick and Jack as happy as the Wickedness and folly of this World will allow Phylosophers to be: our good Wishes are pour’d forth for the felicity of you, your family and Neighbours.—My—I dont know what—to Mrs. Nabby. Tell her I hear she’s about commencing a most loyal subject to young George—and altho my Allegiance has been hitherto inviolate I shall endeavour, all in my Power to foment Rebellion.

      J. Adams


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 4 October 1762
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Miss Adorable

       Octr. 4th. 1762

     By the same Token that the Bearer hereof satt up with you last night I hereby order you to give him, as many Kisses, and as many Hours of your Company after 9 O’Clock as he shall please to Demand and charge them to my Account: This Order, or Requisition call it which you will is in Consideration of a similar order Upon Aurelia for the like favour, and I presume I have good Right to draw upon you for the Kisses as I have given two or three Millions at least, when one has been received, and of Consequence the Account between us is immensely in favour of yours,

      John Adams


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 1762 – 1763
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Dr. Miss Jemima

       Braintree? 1762–1763

     I have taken the best Advice, on the subject of your Billet, and I find you cannot compell me to pay unless I refuse Marriage; which I never did, and never will, but on the Contrary am ready to have you at any Time.

      Yours,
      Jonathan

      I hope Jemima’s Conscience has as good a Memory as mine.


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 14 February 1763
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Dear Madam
      Braintree Feby. 14th. 1763

     Accidents are often more Friendly to us, than our own Prudence.—I intended to have been at Weymouth Yesterday, but a storm prevented.—Cruel, Yet perhaps blessed storm!—Cruel for detaining me from so much friendly, social Company, and perhaps blessed to you, or me or both, for keeping me at my Distance. For every experimental Phylosopher knows, that the steel and the Magnet or the Glass and feather will not fly together with more Celerity, than somebody And somebody, when brought within the striking Distance—and, Itches, Aches, Agues, and Repentance might be the Consequences of a Contact in present Circumstances. Even the Divines pronounce casuistically, I hear, “unfit to be touched these three Weeks.”
     I mount this moment for that noisy, dirty Town of Boston, where Parade, Pomp, Nonsense, Frippery, Folly, Foppery, Luxury, Polliticks, and the soul-Confounding Wrangles of the Law will give me the Higher Relish for Spirit, Taste and Sense, at Weymouth, next Sunday.
     My Duty, where owing! My Love to Mr. Cranch And Lady, tell them I love them, I love them better than any Mortals who have no other Title to my Love than Friendship gives, and that I hope he is in perfect Health and she in all the Qualms that necessarily attend a beginning Pregnancy, and in all other Respects very happy.

      Your—(all the rest is inexpressible)
      John Adams


Title: Abigail Smith to Isaac Smith Jr., 16 March 1763
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Smith, Isaac Jr.

      Dear Cousin
      Weymouth March 16 1763

     Tis no small pleasure to me, to hear of the great proficioncy you have made in the French tongue, A Tongue Sweet, and harmonious, a Tongue, useful to Merchants, to Statesmen; to Divines, and especially to Lawyers and Travellers; who by the help of it, may traverse the whole Globe; for in this respect, the French language is pretty much now, what I have heard the Latin formerly was, a universal tongue.
     By the favor of my Father I have had the pleasure of seeing your Copy of Mrs. Wheelwrights Letter, to her Nephew, and having some small acquaintance with the French tongue, have attempted a translation; of it, which I here send, for your perusal and correction.

     I am sensible that I am but ill qualified for such an undertaking, it being a maxim with me that no one can translate an author well, who cannot write like the original, and I find by Experience that tis more difficult to translate well, than to write well.
     You will see that I have endeavourd to translate the letter as literally as I could, without treading on the heels of my Lady abbess, Esteeming literal translations to be the best as well as truest. Should be glad if you would favor me with your translation, for you, being taught the French language by one of the greatest masters, I make no doubt but that your performance shines in all the beauty and perfection of Language.

      That you may daily grow in virtue and useful Learning, and be a bright Orniment in Church or State is the sincere wish of Dear Cousin Your affectionat Friend,
      Nabby Smith

      N B. How the Lady abbess came to subscribe herself Serviteur, which you know is of the masculine Gender I cannot devise unless like all other Ladies in a convent, she chose to make use of the Masculine Gender, rather than the Feminine.
      Excuse the writing for tis late at night.


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 20 April 1763
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Diana

       April 20th. 1763

     Love sweetens Life, and Life sometimes destroys Love. Beauty is desirable and Deformity detestible; Therefore Beauty is not Deformity nor Deformity, Beauty. Hope springs eternal in the human Breast, I hope to be happyer next Fall than I am at present, and this Hope makes me happyer now than I should be without it.—I am at Braintree but I wish I was at Weymouth! What strange Revolutions take Place in our Breasts, and what curious Vicissitudes in every Part of human Life. This summer I shall like Weymouth better than Braintree but something prompts me to believe I shall like Braintree next Winter better than Weymouth. Writers who procure Reputation by flattering human Nature, tell us that Mankind grows wiser and wiser: whether they lie, or speak the Truth, I know I like it, better and better.—I would feign make an original, an Exemplar, of this Letter but I fear I have not an original Genius.
     Ned. Brooks is gone to Ordination, I know. I have not seen him, nor heard of him, but I am sure that nothing less than the Inspiration of his Daemon, that I suppose revolted from him somewhere, near the foot of Pens-Hill, could have given me Understanding to write this Letter. This is better Reasoning than any I learned at Colledge.
     Patience my Dear! Learn to conquer your Appetites and Passions! Know thyself, came down from Heaven, and the Government of ones own soul requires greater Parts and Virtues than the Management of Kingdoms, and the Conquest of the disorderly rebellious Principles in our Nature, is more glorious than the Acquisition of Universal Dominion. Did you ever read Epictetus? He was a sensible Man. I advise you to read him: and indeed I should have given this Advice, before you undertook to read this.
     It is a silly Affectation for modern statesmen to Act or descant upon Ancient Principles of Morals and Civility. The Beauty of Virtue, The Love of ones Country, a sense of Liberty, a Feeling for our Fellow Men, are Ideas that the Brains of Men now a Days can not contemplate: It is a better Way to substitute in the Place of them, The Beauty of a Girl Lady, the Love of Cards and Horse Races, a Taste in Dress, Musick, and Dancing, The Feeling of a pretty Girl or Fellow and a genteel Delicacy and Complaisance to all who have Power to abuse us.
     I begin to find that an increasing Affection for a certain Lady, (you know who my Dear) quickens my Affections for every Body Else, that does not deserve my Hatred. A Wonder if the Fires of Patriotism, do not soon begin to burn! And now I think of it, there is no possible Way of diminishing the Misery of Man kind so effectually as by printing this Letter.
     It is an intolerable Grievance and Oppression upon poor literary Mortals, to set wasting their Spirits And wearing out that great Gland the Brain, in the study of order and Connection, in fixing every Part of their Compositions to  a certain scope. This keeps them besides from the Joys of seeing their Productions in Print, several days longer than is needful, (not nine years indeed, according to those fools the Ancients): We are to our Honor grown a good deal wiser than they.
     Now I can demonstrate that a Man might write three score Years and ten, after the Model of this Letter, without the least Necessity of Revisal, Emendation or Correction, and all that he should write in that time would be worth Printing too.—I find the Torrent Hurries me down, but I will make a great Effort to swim ashore to the Name of

      Philander

      To the great Goddess Diana


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 15 August 1763
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Monday Morning 15 August 1763

     The Disappointment you mention was not intended, but quite accidental. A Gentleman, for whom I had much Esteem, Mr. Daniel Leonard of Norton, was so good as to offer to keep the sabbath with me at Braintree—a favour that would have been very agreable if it had not detained me from the most agreable of all Company, to me, in this world, and a favour that will I know be sufficient with you to excuse me.—A good Nights sleep I have had but not more than I should have had, for a Friend always keeps me awake till Midnight and after.
     Shall return from Boston I hope time enough to obey, which I always do with more Pleasure than I ever command.

      Yours,
      J. Adams


Title: Hannah Storer Green to Abigail Smith, 1763 – 1764
From: Green, Hannah Storer
To: Adams, Abigail

      My Dear Diana
      Friday 10 O’clock 1763–1764

     My inclinations, tho’ not my Expectations were very much disapointed in not sending you a long Letter the last time I wrote; however I must still beg your Patience and I will pay you all, the very first minute I can.—Patience my dear I recommend to you, upon more accounts than one, first upon your friends, secondly upon your own, for if you do not have Patience with me, I shall never pay you, neither can you have any rest without it.
     I have the honor of sending this by Lysander, who I hope will convey a great deal of Comfort to my Diana in her lonely Condition. I fancy you feel of great importance now. Lysander is a sad unkind Gentleman for he’s never been to see me, tho’ you promised he should, but I’ll forgive him if he’ll be better for the future.
     Breakfast waits. Adieu.

      Your Caliope

      Ardelio’s Love.


Title: Hannah Storer Green to John Adams, 20 February 1764
From: Green, Hannah Storer
To: Adams, John

      Sir
      Boston Februry. 20th. 1764

     I think myself greatly indebted to you, for the honor you do my judgment, in refering so important a debate to my decission; and I ought, in strict justice, to apologize for my not answering it before; however, I trust to your Candor to excuse the seeming neglect, I say seeming, for I have not been unmindful of you, but have well consider’d the thing, and shall give you my thoughts upon the matter with freedom.—But before I proceed to answer the grand point in debate, allow me to ask a question Viz. Why April is excluded? Is it because you will neither of you condescend? If so, you are neither of you fit Subjects for Matrimony in my opinion, and will not have my Vote in the matter; aya, Lysander you may stare if you please, thinking, I suppose, that you have apply’d to the wrong person; however there is no drawing back now; and if this is the reason, you may depend upon it I shall not shew favor to either of you; but leave you to marry when you can agree, and to enjoy your
      blessed Prerogative when you can, in Love, determine whose right it is—but as I look upon you both as reasonable beings, I cannot fairly suppose the want of Condescention to be the reason; therefore I shall answer you without further delay. Well then to be honest (and honesty you love I know, because it saved you once, when you was tried for a Crime which richly deserved a Noose) I do not at all approve of March, ’tis too Blustering a month for Matrimony, neither do I think it necessary you should stay till May, but I would have you take the Medium, for April is a very salutary month for the purpose for then

        “From Southern Climes the chearfull Sun returns,
        And the late frozen North then gently warms;
        His subtile Penetration op’rates so,
        He does but look on Flowers and Plants they grow,
        His loving Beams sweetly salute the Spring,
        And dart their Virtue into every Thing.”

       Therefore April is the month I pitch upon you may be sure and I dare say you will find it far preferable to March, and tho’ by it you remain a miserable Bachelor one month longer yet I hope it will be made up in years of Matrimonial happiness.
     Tell Diana that I’m set upon April, and that it will be the height of impropriety in her, to set up her will (in this case especially) in opposition to yours and mine, for I’m sure you’ll join with me now you know what wonderfull effects the April Sun has, however, A Word to the wise is sufficient, therefore I bid you Adeiu, with assuring you that

      I am Your Friend and Well-wisher,
      Caliope

      P. S. No Slacks to be got; the history of a Letter (which waited a fortnight for your Lordship to convey to Diana) I will give her the first opportunity but the messenger waits now so once more Adeiu.


Title: Abigail Smith to Cotton Tufts, 2 April 1764
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Tufts, Cotton

      Dear Unkle
      Weymouth April th 2. 1764

     I should not have been unmindful of you, even tho you had not call’d upon me to exert myself. I should be the most ungrateful of Mortals, if I did not always with Gratitude remember so kind a Benefactor, as you have been to me both in Sickness, and in Health.
     How often has your kind hand supported me when I was more helpless than an Infant. How often have you revived me by your Vital Heat? And for how many Nights lodging am I indebted to you? Fain would I repay you, tho not in kind now. I fancy you are by this time too infectious for a Being of purity, to wish for any Communication with you. How do you feel? I think you are in good Spirits, at which I rejoice.
     Our friend thinks you dieted too low. Says you look’d as if a puff of wind would have blown you off your Horse, and that He could see through you, (which by the way is more than every one can) wants to hear how you fare, before he begins Lent. We have almost brought him over to the faith, tho’ he still continues some what doubtful. Says if he was to follow his own judgment, he should not go into the method prescribed, but since his Friends advise other ways he will Submit. This looks like a pretty hopeful Speach, I wonder if one may not improve upon such a Heart? I expect nothing more from you, than saying, it is a good example Child, and if you value your own happiness you will in many cases follow it. Aye it may be so, but we wont dispute that point now.
     Inclosed you will find two very curious Letters. I have had some doubt whether it would be best to send one of them, for indeed tis a very Saucy one, but tis in Character I believe—and Nature I suppose you will say.
     I shall send them by Mr. Eyers Ayers that you may have opportunity to see Dr. Perkins and more leisure for writing, than you would have if I waited till thursday when Tom will be down.
     I see the Good Man has given you some account of himself. He will have it that he is temperate in all things, but I know Doctor you understand his constitution better than to believe him, tho you need not mention this, for perhaps Mercury will be no benifit to him upon that account.
     As for News, we have neither Foreign nor Domestick, Civil nor Ecclesiastical nor so much as one word of Scandle Stiring, that I hear of.
     I have been a very good Girl since your absence, and visited your Lady almost every day. She would have impowerd me to have written to you in her Name, but I told her I had no inclination at present to have any communication with any Man in the character of a wife, besides I who never own’d a Husband did not know how to address one. I think she Supports your absence like a Heroine. She complaind a Day or two ago of a Tooth ake, which She Suspected to be the forerunner of some great event, Suppose you best understand what. Your Son Seems to be finely recoverd, has got his Neck at liberty again, and is as great a Rogue as ever. Our pale Face desires to be rememberd to you, keeps at the old notch, and according to Pope—(“Not to go back, is something to advance”) may be say’d to be a little better.—Thus haveing run my rig, think it time to draw towards a close. By Tom hope to receive a token of remembrance, and to
      hear that you are as Speckled as you desire to be. I am not affraid of your Virmin if you roast them well, otherways fear they will be too hard for my Digestion. I leave that to your care, and Conclude assureing you that no person wishes you more Health and Happiness than Your affectionate Niece,

      Abll. Smith

      Please to remember me to my Brother and tell him he should write to me, for he has little else to do.


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 7 April 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      My dear Diana
      Saturday Evening Eight O’Clock 7 April 1764

     For many Years past, I have not felt more serenely than I do this Evening. My Head is clear, and my Heart is at ease. Business of every Kind, I have banished from my Thoughts. My Room is prepared for a Seven Days’ Retirement, and my Plan is digested for 4 or 5 Weeks. My Brother retreats with me, to our preparatory Hospital, and is determined to keep me Company, through the Small Pox. Your Unkle, by his agreable Account of the Dr. and your Brother, their Strength, their Spirits, and their happy Prospects, but especially, by the Favour he left me from you, has contributed very much to the Felicity of my present Frame of Mind. For, I assure you Sincerely, that, (as Nothing which I before expected from the Distemper gave me more Concern, than the Thought of a six Weeks Separation from my Diana) my Departure from your House this Morning made an Impression upon me that was severely painfull. I thought I left you, in
      Tears and Anxiety—And was very glad to hear by your Letter, that your Fears were abated. For my own Part, I believe no Man ever undertook to prepare himself for the Small Pox, with fewer  than I have at present. I have considered thoughrououghly, the Diet and Medicine prescribed me, and am fully satisfyed that no durable Evil can result from Either, and any other Fear from the small Pox or it’s Appurtenances, in the modern Way of Inoculation I never had in my Life.—Thanks for my Balm. Present my Duty and Gratitude to Pappa for his kind offer of Tom. Next Fryday, for certain, with suitable Submission, We take our Departure for Boston. To Captn. Cunninghams We go—And I have not the least doubt of a pleasant 3 Weeks, notwithstanding the Distemper.—Dr. Savil has no Antimony—So I must beg your Care that John Jenks makes the Pills and sends them by
      the Bearer. I enclose the Drs. Directions. We shall want about 10 I suppose for my Brother and me. Other Things we have of Savil.
     Good Night, my Dear, I’m a going to Bed!

      Sunday Morning 1/2 After 10.

     —The People all gone to Meeting, but my Self, and Companion, who are enjoying a Pipe in great Tranquility, after the operation of our Ipichac. Did you ever see two Persons in one Room Iphichacuana’d together? (I hope I have not Spelled that ineffable Word amiss!) I assure you they make merry Diversion. We took turns to be sick and to laugh. When my Companion was sick I laughed at him, and when I was sick he laughed at me. Once however and once only we were both sick together, and then all Laughter and good Humour deserted the Room. Upon my Word we both felt very sober.—But all is now easy and agreable, We have had our Breakfast of Pottage without salt, or Spice or Butter, as the Drs. would have it, and are seated to our Pipes and our Books, as happily as Mortals, preparing for the small Pox, can desire.

      5 o clock afternoon.

     —Deacon Palmer has been here and drank Tea with me. His Children are to go with us to Cunninghams. He gives a charming Account of the Dr. and your Brother, whom he saw Yesterday. Billy has two Eruptions for certain, how many more are to come is unknown—But is as easy and more  (the Deacon says) than he ever saw him in his Life.

      Monday. Ten O’Clock.

     —Papa was so kind as to call and leave your Favor of April the Eighth—For which I heartily thank you. Every Letter I receive from you, as it is an Additional Evidence of your Kindness to me, and as it gives me fresh Spirits and great Pleasure, confers an Additional Obligation upon me. I thank you for your kind and judicious Advice. The Deacon made me the offer Yesterday, which, for the very Reasons you have mentioned, I totally declined. I told you before We had taken our Vomits and last Night We took the Pills you gave me, and we want more. Lent We have kept ever since I left you, as rigidly as two Carmelites. And you may rely upon it, I shall strictly pursue the Drs. Directions, without the least Deviation. Both the Physick and the Abstinence, have hitherto agreed extreamly well with me, for I have not felt freer from all Kinds of Pain and Uneasiness, I have not enjoyed a clearer Head, or a brisker flow of Spirits, these seven Years, than I do this day.
     My Garden, and My Farm, (if I may call what I have by that Name) give me now and then a little Regret, as I must leave them in more Disorder than I could wish. But the dear Partner of all my Joys and sorrows, in whose Affections, and Friendship I glory, more than in all other Emoluments under Heaven, comes into my Mind very often and makes me sigh. No other Consideration I assure you, has given me, since I began my Preparation, or will give me I believe, till I return from Boston any Degree of Uneasiness.
     Papa informs me that Mr. Ayers goes to Town, tomorrow Morning. Will you be so kind as to write the Dr., that I shall come into Town on Fryday, that I depend on Dr. Perkins and no other. And that I beg he would write me whether Miss Le Febure can take in my Brother and me in Case of Need. For My Unkle writes me, I must bring a Bed, as his are all engaged, it seems. I have written him, this Moment, that I can not carry one, and that he must procure one for me, or I must look out Elsewhere. I shall have an Answer from him to night and if he cannot get a Bed, I will go to Mrs. Le Febures if she can take us.
     Should be glad if Tom might be sent over, Fryday Morning. My Love and Duty where owing. Pray continue to write me, by every opportunity, for, next to Conversation, Correspondence, with you is the greatest Pleasure in the World to yr.

      John Adams

      P.S. My Love to Mr. and Mrs. Cranch. Thank ’em for their kind Remembrance of me, and my Blessing to my Daughter Betcy.


Title: Abigail Smith to John Adams, 8 April 1764
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Adams, John

      Sir
      Weymouth April 8. 1764

     If our wishes could have conveyed you to us, you would not have been absent to Day. Mr. Cranch and my Sister have been here, where they hoped to have found you. We talk’d of you, they desire to be rememberd to you, and wish you well thro the Distemper. Mr. Cranch told me that the Deacon with his children design for Boston next Saturday and that they propose going by water—that the Deacon would have you go with them, but I would by no means advise you to go by water, for as you are under prepairation you will be much more exposed to take cold, the weather too is so uncertain that tho the morning may look promissing, yet you know it is frequently very raw and cold in the afternoon. Besides if you should wait till then and Saturday should prove an unplasent Day, you will make it so much the longer before you get into Town. Suffer me therefore to injoin it upon you, not to consent to go by water, and that you have no need to do as Tom will wait upon you any day that you desire. Let
      me know whether you took your vomit, whether you have got your pills and whether you have begun Lent—how it suits you? I am very fearful that you will not when left to your own management follow your directions—but let her who tenderly cares for you both in Sickness and Health, intreet you to be careful of that Health upon which depends the happiness of Your

      A Smith


Title: John Adams to Cotton Tufts, 9 April 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Tufts, Cotton

      My dear Friend

       Ap. 9th 1764

     I have nothing to do at present but to play with my Pen. I have long thought with Horace in his Dulce desipere: But now they tell me it is Utile dulci. I dare not think, for fear of injuring my Health, and for my soul I cannot set still without Thinking; so I am necessitated to keep my Pen in Motion to avoid it, and I believe you are well satisfyd it has answerd the End.
     I rejoice to hear you have so fine a Prospect of passing easily through. Please to tell Dr. Perkins I depend on him. I dont know but your Neice has written you to ask Mrs. Le Febure to receive us. If she has you need not give yourself the Trouble, as I have this Moment a Letter from my Unkle, informing me, that he has procured us a Bed. We shall have an Hospital that deserves the Name. Deacon Palmers 3 Children, my Brother and myself at least if no more, will be at my Unkle’s. And a tolerable Time of it, may we have!
     My Gardens and my Farm, are complaining of Neglect, and Disorders, and all that: But I tell them, Patiens, Prudens—next Year I’le take better Care of Ye. Next Year, Ye shall have your Bellies full of Carrotts and Onions, and Beats, and Parsnips, and Cabbages and Potatoes, and every Thing that is good. But Ye must permit the little Villains call’d the small Pox to have their Feast this Spring.
     They tell me, that Dr. Mayhews Observations have received an Answer in England, a few Copies of which have straggled over to America. The Answer they say is extreamly elegant, delicate, genteel and all that. If so I believe the Dr’s People had an old sermon last sunday. The Arch Bp. of Canterbury has the Credit of the Answer. If this Credit is just, the —s Genius will be roused, and will produce something that Messrs. Reviewers will be puzzled to Name. I suppose you have heard or read, that they have Christend the Observations, the Devils Thunder Bolt, full of Contents weighty and urged home.
     This Controversy I hope will prevent the future Waste of the societies Money in the Maintenance of Insects that are Drones in the Cause of Virtue and Christianity; but the most active and industrious of the whole Hive in the Cause of Hierarchical Policy. I should have concluded long ago, if I had not been absolutely idle, with the Name of your Fr’d,

      John Adams


Title: Abigail Smith to Cotton Tufts, 9 April 1764
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Tufts, Cotton

      Dear Unkle
      Monday eve—Weymouth April 9. 1764

     I suppose you have written to me, tho I have not received it, for Mr. Ayers left his pocket Book with the Letters at Roxbury. However full in the Faith that I have a Letter there, I return you my thanks for it.
     We are all very sollicitious to hear from you; Brother has they tell us two eruptions; upon which I congratulate him. I hear also that he is in high Spirits, and more agreeable than ever he was. This cannot arise from the Distemper, it must certainly be oweing to the virtue and example of his Companion—for if Evil communications corrupt good Manners, why may not those which are virtuous, have as great a tendency to inlighten the Mind and rectify the Manners?
     Your Letters for Mr. Adams I had the curiosity to unfold (he serves me so sometimes) But was sufficiently satisfied. You blew up a train of Ideas—not very delicate ones I assure you. What a Scene did you paint? The thought of it makes me Squemish. Mr. Adams returnd from Plymouth a fryday, and a Saturday morning—left Weymouth, to see it no more for these 5 weeks, this Day received a line, wherein he informs me that he took his Vomit a Sunday morning; and his pill as you directed—follows your prescriptions also in Diet—and experiences the Truth of your observation. Says he never felt a clearer head, or a neater flow of Spirits than at present—desires me to inform you that he with his Brother design for Boston next fryday—that he should be obliged if you would engage Doctor Perkins—and also write him word whether Mrs. Lefebure can accommodate him and his Brother, (without any damage to you) in case of Need, for his Unkle has written him word that
      he has engaged to take in Deacon Palmers Children, and that he must bring a Bed. He has returnd him word, that he cannot carry one, and if his unkle cannot procure him one, he must look out elsewhere. He has not received an answer yet, but expects to hear to Night, if you can write by Mr. Ayers you will greatly oblige him.
     Your Friends here want to see you; and long for the time of your return. My Aunt writes so I need say nothing more about her, than that she perseveres in the way of well doing. My Mother makes bugbears sometimes, and then seems uneasy because I will not be scared by them. I tell her we ought to conclude that you are comfortable, and that I cannot distress my self about you.

      “He who directed and dispenced the past
      O’er rules the present, and shall guide the last.”

     Tis Bed time, even my Bed time, I therefore wish you a good Nights rest, and the continuance of your Spirits—and a safe return is also wished you By your affectionate Niece,

      A. Smith


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 11 April 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Wednesday Eveng. 11 April 1764

     This is the last Opportunity I shall have to write you from Braintree for some Weeks. You may expect to hear from me, as soon after my Arrival at Boston as possible. Have had a peaceable, pleasant Day upon the whole. My Brother and I have the Wishes, the good Wishes of all the good People who come to the House. They admire our Fortitude, and wish us well thro, even some, who would heartily rejoice to hear that both of Us were dead of the small Pox provided no others could be raised up in our stead to be a Terror to evil Doers, and a Praise and Encouragement to such as they mortally hate, those that do well.
     But I have attained such an Elevation in Phylosophy as to be rendered very little, the better or worse, more chearful or surly, for the good or ill Wishes or Speeches of such Animals, as those.
     Amusement engages the most of my Attention. I mean that as I am necessitated to spend three or four Weeks in an Absolute Vacation of Business and study, I may not amuse myself, with such silly Trifles as Cards and Baubles altogether, but may make the very Expletives of Time, the very Diverters from Thinking, while I am under the small Pox of some Use or Pleasure, to me, after I get well. For this Purpose beg Papa, to lend me, all the Volumes of Swifts Examiner and send them over by Tom to yr

      John Adams

      Love and Duty where, and in Proportion as, it is due.


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 12 April 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Dr. Diana
      Thurdsday. 5. Oclock. 12 April 1764

     I have Thoughts of sending you a Nest of Letters like a nest of Basketts; tho I suspect the latter would be a more genteel and acceptable Present to a Lady. But in my present Circumstances I can much better afford the former than the latter. For, my own Discretion as well as the Prescriptions of the Faculty, prohibit any close Application of Mind to Books or Business—Amusement, Amusement is the only study that I follow. Now Letter-Writing is, to me, the most agreable Amusement I can find: and Writing to you the most entertaining and Agreable of all Letter-Writing. So that a Nest of an hundred, would cost me Nothing at all.—What say you my Dear? Are you not much obliged to me, for making you the cheapest of all possible Presents?
     Shall I continue to write you, so much, and so often after I get to Town? Shall I send you, an History of the whole Voyage? Shall I draw You the Characters of all, who visit me? Shall I describe to you all the Conversations I have? I am about to make my Appearance on a new Theatre, new to me. I have never been much conversant in scenes, where Drs., Nurses, Watchers, &c. make the Principal Actors. It will be a Curiosity to me. Will it be so to you? I was always pleased to see human Nature in a Variety of shapes. And if I should be much alone, and feel in tolerable Spirits, it will be a Diversion to commit my Observations to Writing.
     I believe I could furnish a Cabinet of Letters upon these subjects which would be exceeded in Curiosity, by nothing, but by a sett describing the Characters, Diversions, Meals, Wit, Drollery, Jokes, Smutt, and Stories of the Guests at a Tavern in Plymouth where I lodge, when at that Court—which could be equalled by nothing excepting a minute History of Close stools and Chamber Potts, and of the Operation of Pills, Potions and Powders, in the Preparation for the small Pox.
     Heaven forgive me for suffering my Imagination to straggle into a Region of Ideas so nauseous And abominable: and suffer me to return to my Project of writing you a Journal. You would have a great Variety of Characters—Lawyers, Physicians (no Divines I believe), a Number of Tradesmen, Country Colonells, Ladies, Girls, Nurses, Watchers, Children, Barbers &c. &c. &c. But among all These, there is but one whose Character I would give much to know better than I do at present. In a Word I am an old Fellow, and have seen so many Characters in my Day, that I am almost weary of Observing them.—Yet I doubt whether I understand human Nature or the World very well or not?
     There is not much Satisfaction in the study of Mankind to a benevolent Mind. It is a new Moon, Nineteen Twentyeths of it opaque and unenlightened.
     Intimacy with the most of People, will bring you acquainted with Vices and Errors, and Follies enough to make you despize them. Nay Intimacy with the most celebrated will very much diminish our Reverence and Admiration.
     What say you now my dear shall I go on with my Design of Writing Characters?—Answer as you please, there is one Character, that whether I draw it on Paper or not, I cannot avoid thinking on every Hour, and considering sometimes together and sometimes asunder, the Excellencies and Defects in it. It is almost the only one that has encreased, for many Years together, in Proportion to Acquaintance and Intimacy, in the Esteem, Love and Admiration of your

      John Adams


Title: Abigail Smith to John Adams, 12 April 1764
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Adams, John

      My Dearest Friend
      Weymouth April 12. 1764

     Here am I all alone, in my Chamber, a mere Nun I assure you, after professing myself thus will it not be out of Character to confess that my thoughts are often employ’d about Lysander, “out of the abundance of the Heart, the mouth speaketh,” and why Not the Mind thinketh.
     Received the pacquet you so generously bestowed upon me. To say I Fasted after such an entertainment, would be wronging my Conscience and wounding Truth. How kind is it in you, thus by frequent tokens of remembrance to alleviate the pangs of absence, by this I am convinced that I am often in your Thoughts, which is a satisfaction to me, notwithstanding you tell me that you sometimes view the dark side of your Diana, and there no doubt you discover many Spots—which I rather wish were erased, than conceal’d from you. Do not judge by this, that your opinion is an indifferent thing to me, (were it so, I should look forward with a heavey Heart,) but it is far otherways, for I had rather stand fair there, and be thought well of by Lysander than by the greater part of the World besides. I would fain hope that those faults which you discover, proceed more, from a wrong Head, than a bad Heart. E’er long May I be connected with a Friend from whose Example I may form a
      more faultless conduct, and whose benevolent mind will lead him to pardon, what he cannot amend.
     The Nest of Letters which you so undervalue, were to me a much more welcome present than a Nest of Baskets, tho every stran of those had been gold and silver. I do not estimate everything according to the price the world set upon it, but according to the value it is of to me, thus that which was cheapest to you I look upon as highly valuable.
     You ask whether you shall send a History of the whole voyage, characters, visits, conversations &c. &c. It is the very thing that I designd this Evening to have requested of you, but you have prevented my asking, by kindly offering it. You will greatly oblige me by it, and it will be no small amusement to me in my State of Seperation. Among the many who will visit, I expect Arpasia will be one, I want her character drawn by your pen (Aurelia says she appears most agreable in her Letters). I know you are a critical observer, and your judgment of people generally plases me. Sometimes you know, I think you too severe, and that you do not make quite so many allowances as Humane Nature requires, but perhaps this may be oweing to my unacquainedness with the World. Your Business Naturly leads you to a nearer inspection of Mankind, and to see the corruptions of the Heart, which I believe you often find desperately wicked and deceitful.
     Methinks I have abundance to say to you. What is next? O that I should have been extreemly glad to have seen you to Day. Last Fast Day, if you remember, we spent together, and why might we not this? Why I can tell you, we might, if we had been together, have been led into temptation. I dont mean to commit any Evil, unless setting up late, and thereby injuring our Health, may be called so. To that I could have submitted without much remorse of Conscience, that would have had but little weight with me, had you not bid me adieu, the last time I saw you. The reflexion of what I that forenoon endured, has been ever since sufficient to deter me from wishing to see you again, till you can come and go, as you formerly used to.
     Betsy sends her Love to you, says she designd to have kissed you before you went away, but you made no advances, and she never haveing been guilty of such an action, knew not how to attempt it. Know you of any figure in the Mathematicks whereby you can convey one to her? Inclining lines that meet in the same center, will not that figure come as nigh as any?
     What think you of the weather. We have had a very promissing afternoon, tho the forenoon threatned a Storm. I am in great hopes that Sol will not refuse his benign influence tomorrow.
     To-Morrow you leave Braintree. My best wishes attend you. With Marcia I say

        “O Ye immortal powers! that guard the just
        Watch round his Head, and soften the Disease
        Banish all Sorrow from his Mind
        Becalm his Soul with pleasing thoughts
        And shew Mankind that virtue is your care.”

       Thus for Lysander prays his

      A Smith

      PS Let me hear from you soon as possible, and as often. By sending your Letters to the Doctor believe you may get conveyance often. I rejoice to hear you feel so comfortable. Still be careful, good folks are scarce. My Mamma has just been up, and asks to whom I am writing. I answerd not very readily. Upon my hesitating—Send my Love say’d she to Mr. Adams, tell him he has my good wishes for his Safty. A good Night to you—my fire is out. Pray be so kind (as to deliver) or send if they dont visit you, these Letters as directed.

      Fryday morning

     What a Beautiful morning it is, I almost wish I was going with you.—Here I send the Books, papa prays you would be careful of them. I send you some tobacco to smoke your Letters over, tho I dont imagine you will use it all that way.—A pleasent ride to you. Breakfast calls your

      A Smith


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 13 April 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      My dearest

       Boston, 13 April 1764

     We arrived at Captn. Cunninghams, about Twelve O’Clock and sent our Compliments to Dr. Perkins. The Courrier returned with Answer that the Dr. was determined to inoculate no more without a Preparation preevious to Inoculation. That We should have written to him and have received Directions from him, and Medicine, before We came into Town. I was surprized and chagrined. I wrote, instantly, a Letter to him, and informed him we had been under a Preparation of his prescribing, and that I presumed Dr. Tufts had informed him, that We depended on him, in Preference to any other Gentleman. The Dr. came, immediately with Dr. Warren, in a Chaise—And after an Apology, for his not Recollecting—(I am obliged to break off my Narration, in order to swallow a Porringer of Hasty Pudding and Milk. I have done my Dinner)—for not recollecting what Dr. Tufts had told him, Dr. Perkins demanded my left Arm and Dr. Warren my Brothers.
      They took their Launcetts and with their Points divided the skin for about a Quarter of an Inch and just suffering the Blood to appear, buried a Thread about half a Quarter of an Inch long in the Channell. A little Lint was then laid over the scratch and a Piece of a Ragg pressed on, and then a Bandage bound over all—my Coat and waistcoat put on, and I was bid to go where and do what I pleased. (Dont you think the Dr. has a good Deal of Confidence in my Discretion, thus to leave me to it?)
     The Doctors have left us Pills red and black to take Night and Morning. But they looked very sagaciously and importantly at us, and ordered my Brother, larger Doses than me, on Account of the Difference in our Constitutions. Dr. Perkins is a short, thick sett, dark Complexioned, Yet pale Faced, Man, (Pale faced I say, which I was glad to see, because I have a great Regard for a Pale Face, in any Gentleman of Physick, Divinity or Law. It indicates search and study). Gives himself the alert, chearful Air and Behaviour of a Physician, not forgeting the solemn, important and wise. Warren is a pretty, tall, Genteel, fair faced young Gentleman. Not quite so much Assurance in his Address, as Perkins, (perhaps because Perkins was present) Yet shewing fully that he knows the Utility thereof, and that he will soon, practice it in full Perfection.
     The Doctors, having finished the Operation and left Us, their Directions and Medicines, took their Departure in infinite Haste, depend on’t.

     I have one Request to make, which is that you would be very careful in making Tom, Smoke all the Letters from me, very faithfully, before you, or any of the Family reads them. For, altho I shall never fail to smoke them myself before sealing, Yet I fear the Air of this House will be too much infected, soon, to be absolutely without Danger, and I would not you should take the Distemper, by Letter from me, for Millions. I write at a Desk far removed from any sick Room, and shall use all the Care I can, but too much cannot be used.
     I have written thus far, and it is 45 Minutes Past one O Clock and no more.
     My Love to all. My hearty Thanks to Mamma for her kind Wishes. My Regards as due to Pappa, and should request his Prayers, which are always becoming, and especially at such Times, when We are undertaking any Thing of Consequence as the small Pox, undoubtedly, tho, I have not the Least Apprehension att all of what is called Danger.

      I am as ever Yr.
      John Adams


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 14 April 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Saturday. Two O Clock 14 April 1764

     The Deacon and his Three Children are arrivd and the Operation has been performed, and all well. And now our Hospital is full. There are Ten, of Us, under this Roof, now expecting to be sick. One, of Us, Mr. Wheat, begins to complain of a Pain Under his Arm and in his Knees, and about his Back, so that We expect within a few Hours to see the Course of the Eruption and of the fever that preeceeds and accompanies it.
     Your Friends, Miss Paine and Miss Nicholson have been here, and are gone. I delivered your Letters. Arpasia asked me, if you was five feet and six Inches tall? I replyd I had not taken Measure as Yet. You know the Meaning of this Question. She is neither Tall, nor short, neither lean nor fat—pitted with the small Pox—a fine Bloom. Features somewhat like Esther Quincy’s. An Eye, that indicates not only Vivacity, but Fire—not only Resolution, but Intrepidity. (Scandal protect me, Candor forgive me.) I cannot say that the Kindness, the softness, the Tenderness, that constitutes the Characteristick Excellence of your sex, and for the Want of which no Abilities can atone, are very conspicuous Either in her Face, Air or Behaviour.
     Is it not insufferable thus to remark on a Lady whose face I have once only and then but just seen and with whom I have only exchangd two or three Words? Shes a Buxom Lass however, and I own I longed for a Game of Romps with her, and should infallibly have taken one, only I thought the Dress I was in, the Air I had breathd and especially the Medicine I had taken, would not very greatly please a Lady, a stranger, of much Delicacy. Poll. Palmer and I shall unquestionably go to romping very soon.
     Perkins, Sprague and Lord, are the Physicians that attend this House. Each has a few Particulars in Point of Diet, in which he differs from the others, and Each has Pills and Powders, different from the others to administer, different at least in size, and shape and Colour. I like my own vastly the best, tho Dr. Lord is really a Man of sense.
     I fear I must write less than I have done. The Drs. dont approve it. They will allow of nothing scarcly but the Card Table, Chequer Bord, Flute, Violin, and singing, unless, Tittle Tattle, Roll and Tumble, shuttle Cock &c.

      Pray write as often as you can to yr.
      John Adams


Title: Abigail Smith to John Adams, 15 April 1764
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Adams, John

      Sir
      Sunday Noon Weymouth April th 15 1764

     Mr. Cranch informs me that Hones will go to Town tomorrow, and that I may not miss one opportunity, have now taken my pen to thank you for yours by Tom, and also for that which I have just now received by Mr. Ayres. You seem in high Spirits at which you know I rejoice. Your minute description of the persons you have seen, are very entertaining to me. I cannot consent you should omit writing, unless you find it prejudicial to your Health, if so I have not a word more to say. But, if amusement is all they require, why is not one amusement as good as an other, it may be those who forbid you cannot conceive that writing to a Lady is any amusement, perhaps they rank it under the Head of drudgery, and hard Labour.
     However all I insist upon is that you follow that amusement which is most agreable to you whether it be Cards, Chequers, Musick, Writing, or Romping.
     May not I hear from you by Hones? I shall take all possible care that the Letters I receive be well smoked before I venture upon them, enclose the Letters in a cover, but seal only the out side, Tom makes bungling work opening them, and tares them sadly.
     As to any other of the familys being endangerd by them, there is no fear of that, they are very good, and let me enjoy my Letters to myself unless I vouchsafe they should see them. So Miser like I hoard them up, and am not very communicative.
     Your Mamma doubtless would rejoice to hear from you, if you write you may enclose to me, I will take good care of it, if you want any thing I can serve you in, let me know, have you milk eno? You have a large number, who I suppose live upon it, write me if it would be agreable to You to have some.
     Tis meeting time, the Bell rings. Adieue, my Friend—My —— add what else you please. And always believe me What I really am Your own

      A Smith

      My Love to Myra. We all desire to be rememberd to you. Your Daughter Betsy is a charming Girl, and Lisps her Love to her papa. My Regards to whom, and whenever you please to bestow them—to your Brother in perticuliar. Once more adieue.


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 17 April 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Tuesday 17th. April 1764

     Yours of April 15th. this moment received. I thank You for it—and for your offer of Milk, but We have Milk in vast Abundance, and every Thing else that we want except Company.

     You cant imagine how finely my Brother and I live. We have, as much Bread and as much new pure Milk, as much Pudding, and Rice, and indeed as much of every Thing of the farinaceous Kind as We please—and the Medicine We take is not att all nauseous, or painfull.
     And our Felicity is the greater, as five Persons in the same Room, under the Care of Lord And Church, are starved and medicamented with the utmost severity. No Bread, No Pudding, No Milk is permitted them, i.e. no pure and simple Milk, (they are allowed a Mixture of Half Milk and Half Water) and every other Day they are tortured with Powders that make them as sick as Death and as weak as Water. All this may be necessary for them for what I know, as Lord is professedly against any Preparation previous to Inoculation. In which opinion I own I was fully agreed with him, till lately. But Experience has convinced me of my Mistake, and I have felt and now feel every Hour, the Advantage and the Wisdom of the contrary Doctrine.
     Dr. Tufts and your Brother have been here to see Us this Morning. They are charmingly well and chearfull, tho they are lean and weak.
     Messrs. Quincy’s Samuel and Josiah, have the Distemper very lightly. I asked Dr. Perkins how they had it. The Dr. answerd in the style of the Faculty “Oh Lord sir; infinitely light!” It is extreamly pleasing, says he, wherever we go We see every Body passing thro this tremendous Distemper, in the lightest, easiest manner, conceivable.
     The Dr. meaned, those who have the Distemper by Inoculation in the new Method, for those who have it in the natural Way, are Objects of as much Horror, as ever. There is a poor Man, in this Neighbourhood, one Bass, now labouring with it, in the natural Way. He is in a good Way of Recovery, but is the most shocking sight, that can be seen. They say he is no more like a Man than he is like an Hog or an Horse—swelled to three times his size, black as bacon, blind as a stone. I had when I was first inoculated a great Curiosity to go and see him; but the Dr. said I had better not go out, and my Friends thought it would give me a disagreable Turn. My Unkle brought up one Vinal who has just recoverd of it in the natural Way to see Us, and show Us. His face is torn all to Pieces, and is as rugged as Braintree Commons.
     This Contrast is forever before the Eyes of the whole Town, Yet it is said there are 500 Persons, who continue to stand it out, in spight of Experience, the Expostulations of the Clergy, both in private and from the Desk, the unwearied Persuasions of the select Men, and the perpetual Clamour and astonishment of the People, and to expose themselves to this Distemper in the natural Way!—Is Man a rational Creature think You?—Conscience, forsooth and scruples are the Cause.—I should think my self, a deliberate self Murderer, I mean that I incurred all the Guilt of deliberate self Murther, if I should only stay in this Town and run the Chance of having it in the natural Way.
     Mr. Wheat is broke out, and is now at the Card Table to amuze himself. He will not be able to get above a score or two. Badger has been pretty lazy and lolling, and achy about the Head and Knees and Back, for a Day or two, and the Messengers appear upon him, that foretell the compleat Appearance of the Pox in about 24. Hours.
     Thus We see others, Under the symptoms, and all the Pains that attend the Distemper, under the present Management, every Hour, and are neither dismayed nor in the least disconcerted, or dispirited. But are every one of Us wishing that his Turn might come next, that it might be over, and we about our Business, and I return to my Farm, my Garden, but above all, to my Diana who is the best of all Friends, And the Richest of all Blessings to her own

      Lysander

     How shall I express my Gratitude to your Mamma and your self, for your Kind Care and Concern for me. Am extreamly obliged for the Milk, and the Apples. But would not have you trouble yourselves any more for We have a sufficient, a plentiful supply, of those, and every other good Thing that is permitted Us. Balm is a Commodity in very great Demand and very scarce, here, and there is a great Number of Us to drink of its inspiring Infusion, so that my Unkle, Aunt, and all the Patients under their Roof would be obligd, as well as myself, if you could send me some more.
     I received Your agreable Favour by Hannes, this Morning, and had but just finished My Answer to it, when I received the other, by Tom.
     I never receive a Line from you without a Revivification of Spirits, and a joyful Heart. I long to hear that—something you promissed to tell me, in your next. What can that Thing be? thought I. My busy fancy will be speculating and conjecturing about it, night and day, I suppose, till your next Letter shall unriddle the Mystery. You are a wanton, malicious, what shall I call you for putting me in this Puzzle and Teaze for a day or two, when you might have informd me in a Minute.
     You had best reconsider and retract that bold speech of yours I assure You. For I assure you there is another Character, besides that of Critick, in which, if you never did, you always hereafter shall fear me, or I will know the Reason why.
     Oh. Now I think on’t I am determined very soon to write you, an Account in minute Detail of the many Faults I have observed in you. You remember I gave you an Hint that I had observed some, in one of my former Letters. You’l be surprized, when you come to find the Number of them.
     By the Way I have heard since I came to Town an Insinuation to your Disadvantage, which I will inform you off, as soon as you have unravelled Your Enigma.
     We have very litle News, and very little Conversation in Town about any Thing, but the Adulterated Callomel that kill’d a Patient at the Castle, as they say. The Town divides into Parties about it, and Each Party endeavours to throw the Blame, as usual, where his Interest, or Affections, prompt him to wish it might go.
     Where the Blame will center, or where the Quarrell will terminate, I am not able to foresee.
     The Persons talked of are Dr. Gelston, Mr. Wm. Greenleaf, the Apothecary who married Sally Quincy, and the Serjeant, French a Braintree man, who is said to have caried the Druggs from the Apothecary to the Physician. But I think the Serjeant is not much suspected. After all, whether any Body att all is to blame, is with me a dispute.
     Make my Compliments to all the formall, give my Duty to all the honourable, and my Love to all the Friendly, whether at Germantown, Weymouth or Elsewhere, that enquire after me, and believe me to be with unalterable Affection Yr.

      J. Adams
      40 minutes after one O. Clock Tuesday April 17th. 1764


Title: Abigail Smith to John Adams, 19 April 1764
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Adams, John

      Thursday Eve.—Weymouth April th 19 1764

     Why my good Man, thou hast the curiosity of a Girl. Who could have believed that only a slight hint would have set thy imagination a gig in such a manner. And a fine encouragement I have to unravel the Mistery as thou callest it. Nothing less truly than to be told Something to my disadvantage. What an excellent reward that will be? In what Court of justice did’st thou learn that equity? I thank thee Friend such knowledg as that is easy eno’ to be obtained without paying for it. As to the insinuation, it doth not give me any uneasiness, for if it is any thing very bad, I know thou dost not believe it. I am not conscious of any harm that I have done, or wished to any Mortal. I bear no Malice to any Being. To my Enimies, (if any I have) I am willing to afford assistance; therefore towards Man, I maintain a Conscience void of offence.
     Yet by this I mean not that I am faultless, but tell me what is the Reason that persons had rather acknowledg themselves guilty, than be accused by others. Is it because they are more tender of themselves, or because they meet with more favor from others, when they ingenuously confess. Let that be as it will there is something which makes it more agreeable to condemn ourselves than to be condemned by others.
     But altho it is vastly disagreeable to be accused of faults, yet no person ought to be offended when such accusations are deliverd in the Spirit of Friendship.—I now call upon you to fullfill your promise, and tell me all my faults, both of omission and commission, and all the Evil you either know, or think of me, be to me a second conscience, nor put me off to a more convenient Season. There can be no time more proper than the present, it will be harder to erase them when habit has strengthned and confirmd them.
     Do not think I triffle. These are really meant as words of Truth and Soberness—for the present good Night.

     Fryday Morning April th 20
     What does it signify, why may not I visit you a Days as well as Nights? I no sooner close my Eyes than some invisible Being, swift as the Alborack of Mahomet, bears me to you. I see you, but cannot make my self visible to you. That tortures me, but it is still worse when I do not come for I am then haunted by half a dozen ugly Sprights. One will catch me and leep into the Sea, an other will carry me up a precipice (like that which Edgar describes to Lear,) then toss me down, and were I not then light as the Gosemore I should shiver into atoms—an other will be pouring down my throat stuff worse than the witches Broth in Macbeth.—Where I shall be carried next I know not, but I had rather have the small pox by inoculation half a dozen times, than be sprighted about as I am. What say you can you give me any encouragement to come? By the time you receive this hope from experience you will be able to say that the distemper is but a triffle. Think you I would not endure a triffle for
      the pleasure of seeing Lysander, yes were it ten times that triffle I would.—But my own inclinations must not be followed—to Duty I sacrifice them. Yet O my Mamma forgive me if I say, you have forgot, or never knew—but hush.—And do you Lysander excuse me that something I promis’d you, since it was a Speach more undutifull than that which I Just now stop’d my self in—for the present good by.

     Fryday Evening
     I hope you smoke your Letters well, before you deliver them. Mamma is so fearful least I should catch the distemper, that she hardly ever thinks the Letters are sufficently purified. Did you never rob a Birds nest? Do you remember how the poor Bird would fly round and round, fearful to come nigh, yet not know how to leave the place—just so they say I hover round Tom whilst he is smokeing my Letters.
     But heigh day Mr. whats your Name?—who taught you to threaten so vehemently “a Character besides that of critick, in which if I never did, I always hereafter shall fear you.”
     Thou canst not prove a villan, imposible. I therefore still insist upon it, that I neither do, nor can fear thee. For my part I know not that there is any pleasure in being feard, but if there is, I hope you will be so generous as to fear your Diana that she may at least be made sensible of the pleasure.
     Mr. Ayers will bring you this Letter, and the Bag. Do not repine—it is fill’d with Balm.
     Here is Love, respects, regards, good wishes—a whole waggon load of them sent you from all the good folks in the Neighbourhood.
     To morrow makes the 14th Day. How many more are to come? I dare not trust my self with the thought. Adieu. Let me hear from you by Mr. Ayers, and excuse this very bad writing, if you had mended my pen it would have been better, once more adieu. Gold and Silver have I none, but such as I have, give I unto thee—which is the affectionate Regard of Your

      A Smith


Title: Cotton Tufts to Abigail Smith, 19 April 1764
From: Tufts, Cotton
To: Adams, Abigail

      My Dear

       Boston, 19? April 1764

     It was not forgetfulness, that prevented my writing. You must not ascribe to forgetfulness my not writing to You for some time past, it was A Fear had a Letter from me at the Time of Eruption and for some days after would have been disagreable. You must think, that Distance of Place or Even Pain and Distress is not able to erase the tender Affection which I have for my Friends and You my Dear have a right to my Affection in particular having in the State of Childhood assisted You as a Physician for the same Reasons mentiond in Yours that I have a Claim to Yours. I never design’d that You should have open’d Pandora’s Box, as such it seem’d to be to You. All I can say upon the Affair is that if Your delicate Stomach receiv’d a gentle Heave, You must comfort yourself with the trite saying “Pay for Peeping” (I do not know whether I spell the word right).
     I think You are grown very good at Weymouth and extremely peaceable, and quiet. But by this Time I believe You are full of News, and it will be a Wonder if a little Scandall dont drop—for I can assure You there has been enough of it here in Town. Poor Wm. Greenleaf has been burnt, hang’d, Gibbited and I dont now what—and I am apt to think but with very little Reason. Time will perhaps discover something curious in this Affair.
     I saw Your Friend Yesterday and the day before. He will have the Disorder lightly, for You must Note I am become Connoisseur in this Business.


Title: Abigail Smith to John Adams, 30 April 1764
From: Adams, Abigail
To: Adams, John

      Dear Lysander
      Weymouth April 30. 1764

     Your Friendly Epistle reach’d me a fryday morning, it came like an Infernal Mesenger, thro fire and Brimstone, Yet it brought me tidings of great joy. With gratitude may this month be ever rememberd by Diana. You have been peculiarly favourd, and may be numberd with those who have had the distemper lightest. What would I give that I was as well thro it. I thank you for your offerd Service, but you know that I am not permitted to enjoy the benifit of it.
     Yesterday the Dr. returnd to our no small Satisfaction. I think there is but one person upon Earth, the Sight of whom would have more rejoiced me. But “not Sight alone would please.” It would therefore be adviseable to keep at an unseeable distance till any approach would not endanger.
     I was yesterday at the Meeting of a Gentleman and his Lady. Cloathes all shifted—no danger—and no fear. A how do ye, and a how do ye, was exchanged between them, a Smile, and a good naturd look. Upon my word I believe they were glad to see each other. A tender meeting. I was affected with it. And thought whether Lysander, under like circumstances could thus coldly meet his Diana, and whether Diana could with no more Emotion receive Lysander. What think you. I dare answer for a different meeting on her part were She under no restraint. When may that meeting be? Hear you have sent for your Horse, the Doctor tells me that you rode out a friday, do not venture abroad too soon, very bad winds for invalids tho I hear you stand it like an oak.—O by the way you have not told me that insinuation to my disadvantage which you promised me. Now methinks I see you criticizeing—What upon Earth is the Girl after. Where is the connexion between my standing the distemper like
      an oak, and an insinuation to her disadvantage?—Why I did not expect that a short sighted mortal would comprehend it, it was a Complex Idea if I may so express myself. And in my mind there was a great connexion. I will show you how it came about. “I did expect this purgation of Lysander would have set us on a level and have renderd him a Sociable creature, but Ill Luck, he stands it like an oak, and is as haughty as ever.” Now mentioning one part of this Sentance, brought to mind the accusation of haughtiness, and your faults naturally lead me to think of my own. But here look yee. I have more than insinuations against you. “An intolerable forbiding expecting Silence, which lays such a restraint upon but moderate Modesty that tis imposible for a Stranger to be tranquil in your presence.” What say you to that charge? Deny it not, for by experience I know it to be true. Yes to this day I feel a greater restraint in your Company, than in that of allmost any other
      person on Earth, but thought I had reasons by myself to account for it, and knew not that others were affected in the same manner till a late complaint was enterd against you. Is there any thing austere in your countanance? Indeed I cannot recollect any thing. Yet when I have been most pained I have throughly studied it, but never could discover one trace of the severe. Must it not then be something in Behaviour, (ask Silvia, (not Arpasia for these are not her complaints) what it is) else why should not I feel as great restraint when I write. But to go on, “Why did he read Grandison, the very reverse in practice. Sir Charles call’d forth every one’s excellencies, but never was a thought born in Lysanders presence.” Unsociable Being, is an other charge. Bid a Lady hold her Tongue when she was tenderly inquireing after your wellfare, why that sounds like want of Breeding. It looks not like Lysander for it wears the face of ingratitude.—I expect you
       to clear up these matters, without being in the least saucy.
     As to the charge of Haughtiness I am certain that is a mistake, for if I know any thing of Lysander, he has as little of that in his disposition, as he has of Ill nature. But for Saucyness no Mortal can match him, no not even His

      Diana

      N.B. Remember me to Silvia and Myra.
      Shall I hear from you by Mr. Ayers. If not do not fail writing by the Doctor who will be in Town a thursday. If he brings a letter suppose he will smoke it too, you understand me.
      Yours unfeignedly,

     A Smith


Title: John Adams to Abigail Smith, 4 May 1764
From: Adams, John
To: Adams, Abigail

      Four O Clock afternoon May 4th. 1764

     Returned from a Ramble in Town which began at 10 in the Morning. Dined with my Friend S. Adams and Wm. Checkley, and visited &c.—so that this is the first Moment of my Knowledge of my Letters or the Dr. being in Town.
     Once I have ridden to Dorchester Meeting House in a Chaise with Myra, another Day, round the Town, and over the Neck in a Chaise with Myra, and Yesterday I rode on Horse back into the Country twelve Miles out and in, with one of my Hospital Companions. We are all well but one, who is more hysterical than any ancient Maiden, in the Gout. An History of his Oddities, would be a Curiosity. But the Man is in no Danger, his small Pox is all gone, and he can eat his Pint of Chocolate, and drink his Bowl of Claret sangaree, as well as any Man.
     I have had a fine Time of it. I drank Frontinac and Mountain Malaga, and eat Oysters in order to make the Pock fill well, till I filld up about 30 fine ones.
     The Dr. waits and wont light.