Tuesday the first of November, I received from you, my ever dear Neice, a Letter dated the 3d. of August.1 Were I to describe to you the Ideas I have, of the merit of its Author, it might perhaps, flatter your Vanity. For some I suppose you are possessed of, in common with the rest of your Sex, however you may modify and direct it. Roseau says, it is inherent, and constitutes a part of our very Nature. For he asserts that all Women are naturally Coqqettes2—which if allowed I conclude therefore that all Women must have a considerable share of Vanity and Presumtion. But quiting Roseau and all his odd Chimerical Ideas and Schemes, I will tell you plainly that your Letter throwed me into a very pensive and musing state of mind. It gave me both pleasure, and pain—pleased with the Manner, but pained at the thought of having given real uneasiness, to a Heart, which if it had need, I would have chose rather to have soothed—to have poured balm, and softened with my latest Breath.

I cannot recur to the Letter you mention,3 because I have no copy. But as near as I remember, the Observations arose from the Idea, that we were all, but in Youth more especially, too apt to form wrong Judgment of persons and of things, for want of time, and critical Examination, for instance—put a strait stick into a Tub of water and when the Sun Shines upon it, you believe it broke or bent, and cannot suppose it otherways, only by repeated trials—just so we may be mistaken as to the merit, or real Character of Persons. Objects ought to be viewed in different points of light. We Judge by the exterior, and it is Time, the most accurat Observation, and experience alone, that can convince us, it is possible for our Judgement to err.

How often in the earlier part of my Life, have I thought it unkind, unjust, and the height of cruelty to suspect there was the least Ill, “where no Ill seemed.” How dear thought I, must we pay for our knowledge of the World if the more we know, the less we must Love—and in proportion as that is extended, our Charity, and Benevolence must decrease.—But why do I run on thus. I meant to ask, why, so general Observations should give pain, and so much alarm my dear Niece. Believe me my Friend when I say, they were not made, because I thought you materially deficient in any part of your Conduct. No. Though I knew you, as human, liable to Errors, yet I have ever viewed you in a variety of Instances, as rising above your Sex, superior to the weakness, and the Foibles that more generally attend Us, as acting in a strict conformity to the highest notions, of virtuous affection; honour, and filial Duty. Few I beleive, of your age have more assiduously sought the right way, and undeviatingly the Path—and such a Person cannot form an Opinion to Day, vary it tomorrow, and change it a week hence. Errors we find may result from a wrong Judgement, But when that is convinced, we may alter our Opinion, while the same principles are operating in our Breasts, without being charged I think with fickleness and inconstancy.

You ask, what more can be done, than endeavour to do right? I answer, that nothing more ought to be done. This is the only source from whence we can derive comfort. This is the Path which if pursued, will lead you on to Happiness—will lead you to a chearful Resignation to the various vissisetudes of Fortune. It will smooth your Pillow, and make your repose sweet and peaceful.4

I find by your Mamma's, and your Letters that an atachment to the French was daily increasing.5 Moore in his Travels6 says they are the most civil and polite to strangers of any people in the World, the most obliging in endeavouring to make them understand their Language, and the least apt to laugh, when errors are made in speaking it—and that Gentleman of Fortune from every part of Europe, resorted thither to spend them,7 where they could enjoy the agreeable Society of the Parisians.

The account you gave of your presentation to their Majesties, and 461of your Dress and Reception,8 was a matter we felt ourselves interested in. Painful preheminence! I envied neither Royalty nor you. Alas! that my Neices Taste should be so depraved as not to be delighted with the Salutations, Ceremonies, and Honours of a Court. You talk of the Mortification of your Pride, and of your being taught to pay respect and defference to nothing but superior Virtue and Merit. Why Child, one would think you lived in Queen Besses Days.

Your Remarks pleased me, upon the equality of the human Species. If Titles, Rank, and Fortune could shield us from any one Misfortune, and Evil to which Humanity is incident, they might be worth such mighty contests as have disturbed the World. But on the contrary we find, that exalted Stations, are often the very Cause which involves them in Misery and though by their Office they are “stiled Gods, yet they must die like Men.”

In our late Journey to Braintree, Mr. Shaw had some Buisiness which led him to visit, one of your Skadenmite Families.9 Pray who did you marry, said the good Woman? Upon being informed, Why you was a desperate lucky Man and then went on to enquires about your Family. We hear they have seen the King and Queen of England, and that they kept them standing four Hours. I should have thought they would have had more manners. I don't call myself desperate mannerly and yet I am sure I would have given them Chairs to sit in. I assure you I have been diverted to hear the different speeches, and opinions of people upon this ocasion.

I have had a sweet Visit from Cousin Billy and Lucy Cranch, and your Brother Charles in the October Vacancy. I felt gratified, and I loved him the better for his looking so happy at being here again. Here he recieved your affectionate Letter,10 and token of Love. You can hardly conceive how rich I felt, when I looked round our Table, and could count eight own Cousins.11 Such likely ones too, and those that loved me so well. Some of my best spirits played round my Heart, at that Moment.

It was in vain to wish you here—it could not be.

And now my dear Neice let me beg you to write to me as often as you can freely, every thing that can affect your Happiness is of importance to me. Mr. Allen is not yet married, but I suppose means to be, if ever this Winter.

Mr. Thaxter according to his diffinition of Courtship is now on the third stage. He is now quite seriously engaged,12 and is considered as a relative in the Family. Walked last week as a near mourner to poor Mrs. Duncan's Grave—For she is gone. The Family disorder 462seized her Brain. She was missing in the Evening, and found next Morning floating, a little way off one of the Wharffs. What consternation such an Event must occasin the Family, and her connections you can better conceive than I describe. She was a person of an excellent Temper, a kind Friend of a meek disposition, and I believe a very good Woman, and was grieved almost to Death when her Brother acted the like Part. Your Brother JQA in his Journal, I suppose will give you a particular account of the affair.13

Adieu my Dear Neice, may you enjoy all that satisfaction, & happiness which is insured to Right Intentions, is at all times the fervent Wish of your most Affectionate Aunt

I have been honoured with your two letters of Octob. 19. and 25. by Mr. Fox and Doctor Rodgers since the date of my last.1 I am to thank you for your state of Stanhope's case. It has enabled me to speak of that transaction with a confidence of which I should other-463wise have been deprived by the different state of it in the public papers and the want of information from America. I have even endeavored to get it printed in a public paper to counteract the impressions of the London papers and Mercure de France. I do not yet know however whether it will be admitted.2—Your letter to Mr. Williamos3 I immediately sent to him. The illness which had long confined him, proved in the end to be mortal. He died about ten days ago.

Mr. Adams's letter of the 4th. instant4 informs me that Mr. Preston had at length found my letter to him. I hope he has also found, or that he will in time find that which I took the liberty of writing to you. It was to pray you to order me a dozen shirts, of exactly the quality of the one sent, to be made in London. I gave for that 10tt 10s. the aune, and wished to be able to judge of the comparative prices in the two countries. The several commissions you have been so good as to execute for me, with what Mr. Adams has paid for insuring Houdon's life leave me considerably in your debt. As I shall not get so good an opportunity of making a remittance, as by Colo. Smith, I trouble him with thirty two Louis for you. This I expect may place us in the neighborhood of a balance. What it is exactly I do not know. I will trouble you to give me notice when you receive your plateaux de dessert, because I told the marchand I would not pay him till you had received them; he having undertaken to send them. I give you so much trouble that unless you find some means of employing me for yourself in return I shall retain an unpleasant load on my mind. Indeed I am sensible this balance will always be against me, as I want more from London than you will do from Paris. True generosity therefore will induce you to give me opportunities of returning your obligations.

Business being now got through I congratulate you on the return of Colo. Smith.5 I congratulate you still more however on the extreme worth of his character, which was so interesting an object in a person connected in office so nearly with your family. I had never before had an opportunity of being acquainted with him. Your knowlege of him will enable you to judge of the advantageous impressions which his head, his heart, and his manners will have made on me.

I begin to feel very sensibly the effect of the derangement of the French packets. My intelligence from America lately has become more defective than it formerly was. The proceedings of Congress and of the assemblies there this winter will be very interesting.

The death of the Duc d'Orleans has darkened much the court and 464city. All is sable. No doubt this is a perfect representation of their feelings, and particularly of those of the D. de Chartres to whom an additional revenue of four millions will be a paultry solace for his loss.6 News from Madrid give much to fear for the life of the only son of the Prince of Asturias.7

Colo. Humphries comes to take a view of London. I should be gratified also with such a trip, of which the pleasure of seeing your family would make a great part. But I foresee no circumstances which could justify, much less call for, such an excursion. Be so good as to present my respects to Miss Adams and to be assured yourself of the sincerity of the esteem with which I have the honour to be Dear Madam.

Your most obedient & most humble servt.