I thank you for presenting a Barrell of Flour to my Mother, and wish you to do every Thing for her Comfort, that lies in your Power. My Duty to her.— Ames is not here nor is any other Vessell bound to Boston. We shall send more Flour as soon as there is Opportunity. I am glad to hear that at length after 5 or 6 Years meditation you have 357 made your Visit to Mrs Miller and Mrs Vezey. I am afraid you did not at last carry Madam Apthorp to those Places, as you ought to have done.1 We have had Severe cold for a few Days: but it has Since moderated and carried off the snow. Winter never Seems to be in earnest, when it comes so late.

Charles return’d yesterday to New York. and left me, more solitary, than he found me. I know not what Resolution to take about coming home. I fear, it will be expected of me that I stay till 4 March, waiting for Mr Jays Dispatches and his Treaty—not that I believe they will arrive so soon. Not that I can have any Voice in the Question for two thirds decidedly of the senate must agree— Not that one Member, will be in the least influenced by any Opinion of mine— Not that I can give any Information in the Affair to the most ignorant. But it will be expected, that I stay. Tout est dit—i.e. Although every Body else do as they please & go & come when they will, I alone must be chained to the oars. I shall keep a triste Thanksgiving in Philadelphia. The Second Week in March is moreover the Worst moment in the Year to travel. I shall be carted again or rather drawn in a Coach by oxen as I was [slosped?] ferry to New Haven, part of the Way, which is more ridiculous. But I have been horse carted from Leostoff in England fifteen miles and Boorswaggoned fifty miles, from Goree, Overflaekee and Helvoet to the Brille; and have been mule carried and walked on foot over the Mountains in Spain—and after that nothing can come amiss.2 The more a Man submits to be a slave the more he may.

I wish I had an exact Account of all the Voyages I have made between Harwich & Helvoet—and between Calais & Dover—The Voyage from New York to Providence last summer and from New Haven to New York last fall— Did ever any Man make so many uncomfortable Journeys and Voyages? They have been enough to kill any other Man for what I know certainly most other Men— But a kind loving grateful Country, is a sweet and ample Reward for all these Sufferings & services. You know how dearly she loves me, how kindly she treats me and how generously she rewards me.

Adieu

I have had a very bad cold, attended with some other complaints which have enfeebled me, & made me look quite sick, for a fortnight I dare not go out of door, but I am now much better— The body, & the Mind are so nearly connected that the one cannot suffer without the other. To the indisposition of the former, would I attribute a certain depression of Spirits which has troubled me for some time. I feel as if my Heart was too, too big for its little Tenement— It is not because I suffer for the want of any-thing, for few women had ever more reason to be grateful than I. To a kind Providence do I feel myself indebted for the many Friends which have assisted me, & for the daily Favours I receive— It is cause of much thankfulness that when my Family is so changed, I have such agreeable Boarders, who are Companions that take a filial, or fraternal care of me— It serves greatly to sweeten the bitter Cup, which my heavenly Father has assigned me— The care of providing for them, occupies my mind, & keeps it from brooding over its own Sorrows in the Day—but in the night, in the Silence of night the Sleep I court, like a Phantom flies from me—& (I trust) “lights on lids unsullied with a Tear”—1 I cannot sleep my sister, or but very little— may all gracious heaven preserve my mind, & in every visiscitude which I may be called to pass through, may my temper be equal, & sedate— I go to sleep repeating that beautiful Apostrophe wherein Pope describes a good woman—

& wish most earnestly, that I may be possessed of that serene & placid disposition which is a continual source of pleasure, & of happiness—

I often question myself in the language of the Psalmist “Why art thou cast down, O my Soul? why art thou disquieted Within me?— 359 dost thou not hope in God? & is it not as an anchor to thy Soul?”3 sure & stedfast—why should thou fear Evil, if enlisted under the banners of him, who has stiled himself the widows God—

The Doctor has advised me to go out, & ride every Opportunity. I know I always lost my sleep whenever I have been any long time confined— I hope the cold weather, & air will brace my Nerves— To any body less affectionate than a Sister, I should not dare to say so much of myself,— You who love, & know me, can enter into all my feelings even to those of a Mother, & are sensible with what weight my Children lie upon my heart— Their Education & their welfare is my greatest Concern— I am happy that my Daughter meets with your approbation you cannot think what a comfort it has been to think that you love her— I have trembled for her— It was absolutely necessary she should go from this house—yes, & from one Mother to another—that would kindly check her temerity, & who would carefully pluck from her youthful mind those poisonous weeds, which if left would soon root out those seeds of Virtue, which I hope are implanted there—4

Mr Kent came last monday & brought Miss Margeret Austin, & left her here, & took Cousin Betsy Smith home with him—5 I tried to perswade miss Austin to tarry here a week, or more, but she had been a year from home, & we could not prevail with her— she went in the Stage on thursday— She is an amiable Girl, & is much admired by the Gentlemen— She deserves to be the favorite of every body— Mr Abbot continues with us, growing every day in the Esteem of the People— I hope they will soon come to a determination concerning him— Some persons say he is courting—the common cant you know, to be said of young Gentlemen—but if his Heart is not engaged, there is one dear Girl who has a Soul that I think in perfect unison with his—6 their tempers are so sweetly harmonized to the pure precepts of the Gospel that they could not but be happy in promoting each others best interest— they have kindred minds— their Souls were formed in the same happy mould—may “Cupid yoke the Doves”—7 Perhaps, I am enthusiastick in my Friendships— but I never saw anything in either of them but what I should delight in, if they were my own Children, & should say, go on—pursue the path of virtue grow in Grace, & the God who is Love, make you perfect—

I hope whenever you hear from your Children you will inform me of it— I have not time at present to write to Sister Cranch, or to 360 Betsy Quincy— Please to give my Love to them, & / accept of the sincere affection of your / ever obliged Sister