Though I have this day for the first time received a Letter from your husband, yet I feel chagrined at not having had one inclosed for you. 172I had promised myself the pleasure of being instrumental to your happiness in that way, frequently. He dates from Passy Decr. 6th.1 and acknowledges the Receipt of an official Letter from Me of Octr. 122 but says not a syllable of having touched a single one of all my private Addresses to him. He is not lengthy. Some parts are confidential and not interesting to you as his Wife. Other Parts, tho confidential also, are not indifferent in a domestic view. On the footing therefore of a past promise I copy them. “Mr. D. and others have written in a manner which makes it expected that one will be left alone here. But what is to be done with the other two is left to conjecture. If I am recalled, I shall have nothing to do but get home if I can. If I am appointed to another Court I shall be in some perplexity; because I see no probability of being received at present. However, I can digest nothing till I have the premises.”—“The King's Speech I have already sent to Congress by several Opportunities. You will see he dreads the great armament of other powers, in the plural. He must mean Holland and Spain. You will see also that the Opposition is more strong than it ever was before, in both Houses. I will omit no opportunity of sending the other papers with the debates as they come, and I pray they may go safe. But immense Numbers of our Dispatches are sunk in the Sea. I beg of you to write as often as possible to John Adams.”

None of the Papers he mentions have come to hand. The Perplexity he apprehends will I know for certain lessen every hour. You will hear much talk of great Secrets which Congress keep to themselves. It is true that some Circumstances respecting Alliances are and ought to be concealed but the News papers will give you the main Parts of what we know in Regard to Friendships for us and Disappointments for Gr. Britain.

But, I quit these Topics, and return to Mr. A——. His Namesake here wrote some time ago on the subject of a new destination for him3 and several of my Letters are on their passage tending in their contents to make him rest satisfied till he receives our final Adjustments of who and where.

I have written three Answers to yours of January 4. This is the fourth. The Three first I have burned. In one I was melancholly, in another angry, and in the third merry—but either would have given you more Pain than Pleasure. I have gone through with several others of your Letters in the same manner. They are Admirably written, but there is such a Strain of Unhappiness and Complaint in them, as has made me very uneasy.—This last goes farther than any other, and contains an Expression which allarms me indeed, and convinces me, either that some infernal has whispered in your Ear Insinuations, or that you have forgotten the unalterable Tenderness of my Heart.1

This Letter is an Additional Motive with me to come home. It is Time.—I have written as often as I could. I want to write you every day but I cannot—I have too much to say: but have good Reasons for saying nothing. Is it necessary that I should make Protestations that I am, with an Heart as pure as Gold or Aether,2 forever yours.

In the Margin are the Dates of all the Letters I have received from you. I have written you, several Times 174 that Number—they are allmost all lost, I suppose by yours.1

But you should consider, it is a different Thing to have five hundred Correspondents and but one. It is a different Thing to be under an Absolute Restraint and under none. It would be an easy Thing for me to ruin you and your Children by an indiscreet Letter—and what is more it would be easy, to throw our Country into Convulsions.—For Gods sake never reproach me again with not writing or with Writing Scrips. Your Wounds are too deep.

You know not—you feel not—the dangers that surround me, nor those that may be brought upon our Country.

Millions would not tempt me to write to you as I used. I have no security that every Letter I write you will not be broken open and copied and transmitted to Congress and to English News Papers. They would find no Treason nor Deceipt in them it is true, but they would find Weakness and Indiscretion, which they would make as ill an Use of.

There are Spies upon every Word I utter, and every Syllable I write—Spies planted by the English—Spies planted by Stockjobbers—Spies planted by selfish Merchants—and Spies planted by envious and malicious Politicians.

I have been all along aware of this, more or less, but more so now than ever.

My Life has been often in danger, but I never considered my Reputation and Character so much in danger as now.

I can pass for a Fool, but I will not pass for a dishonest or a mercenary Man.

Be upon your Guard therefore—I must be upon mine—And I will.