To hear that our dear good uncle Smith is added to the number of the Friends who have departed this Life since you left america will not greatly surprize you if you have receiv'd my Letters by the last ships which sail'd: yes my sister That good Man last monday morning about Two a clock clos'd his Eyes upon this vain world never more to open them till the last joyful Trump shall Wake to life all the nations of the earth— His disorder was something like coll. Quincys excepting that there was not a mortification— He did not suffer much Pain after the swelling abait'd in his Leg but he continu'd to sink a way & his life went out like the last snuff of a candle—without a sigh or groan. Five or six hours before he dy'd as he was laying upon the couch—he call'd Nabby & told her to send for all his Friends—His children & Brothers & sisters he meant Doctor & mrs Welch were of the number—“That he wish'd to see them once more”—“He was almost sure he should not live till the morning” They came—he gave them his blessing charg'd them to live in Love & harmony with each other & to take care of nabby & never to let her want any of the comforts of Life— He then desir'd that mr Clark might be sent for—1 he had often visited him in his sickness— He Lov'd him he said & was comforted by his conversation— when he came—he told he that he had sent for him to pray with him once more— He sat up & said all this with as strong a voice as when he was well— The Docr did not think but he might have liv'd a week & told him so— no said he I shall dye this night— at ten the Doc found his Pulse alter'd— he went to sleep, but was restless & uneasey—nabby got up at one to give him some thing to take. he told her, that he could not help himself at all— she went to the Bed to assist him but found she had to close his Eyes— I went to town the next day to see him not knowing that he was dead— I had seen him almost every week since he was taken sick— He was most tenderly affected towards his Friends— the Letter he receiv'd from you by Barnard affected him so much that he shed Tears—2 I went in just as he had done reading of it— “Thank her for me” said he to me “& tell her that I shall never write to her again— tell her also that I have notic'd one thing which I do not like— she often mentions going to meeting in the morning & having company to dine & spend the afternoon— I know she can not avoid it now—but I do not like it— I hope they will 197not do it when they return—tell her I say so—” I promis'd him I would— you know the strict manner in which they use'd to keep the sabbath would ill agree with the loose manners of Europe—

He has left a most excellent character behind him many besides his children will rise up & call him blessed we my dear sister have lost in him another Parent— cousin Betsy bears the loss of Father much better than she did of her Mother. she has had time to prepair her mind for this. the other was sudden & it was the first real sorrow she ever knew— she looks calm & placed— cousin William sustains his loss with the most firmness— as to the amiable Preacher His Soul is bow'd down with sorrow He has no command of his tender Passions He is naturally low spirit'd—& he feels his loss more for not having a Family of his own & being in such an unsettled State—

uncle has left his Estate to be equally divided between his children only he has given cousin Betsy 150lb more than the others to make her equal to mrs Otis to whom he has given firniture. Betsy will live with her Brother Willm. It is very happy for her that he has such a charming woman for his wife—you will admire her

uncle Smith is the seventh Person who has dy'd in our Familys since you left us—but my dear sister I have an eighth to add who tho he has long since been lost to us—yet while life remain'd I did hope would sooner or later return & be a comfort to us—

Sister last week receiv'd a Letter from a mr Barnard who says he was his Physician informing her that her Husband dy'd the 10th of september of the black jandice that the Family he was in took good care of him in his illness. That he was so well three days before his death as to be able to do considerable writing—but of what kind I do not know— He liv'd four miles from him & was not with him when he dy'd so cannot he says tell what the state of his mind was in that decicive moment— sister is going to answer his Letter— we shall know more I hope by his reply— your own mind will furnish you with the best Idea of what I feel upon this occation a meriful God will do right—3

When I was in town I heard of an English vesil just ready to sail—but I could not get a moment to write there— I had a great deal of business to do your sons from college are with me & I expect cousin JQA from Newburry with Mr Shaw & sister tomorrow—I must set my Tailors to work to fix them for winter—Miss Nancy Quincy Betsy Cranch & her Brother came from Haverhill last Friday & left all well Mr Thaxter is publish'd this day & is to be married next month—

I long & fear to have cushing arrive your account of your Health makes me very uneasey— I wish you was with me & under Docr. Tufts care— I hope your journey has been of service to you— your sons Mother Hall & all your Braintree Friends are well— I have not time to say anything about your house now I shall write again soon— I have much to say— mr cranch & the children send Love to you & yours

accept it also from your sister

The last year I acquainted you with the death of my mother, & I am sorry that I have now to inform you of that of my father, an event which has renewed my griefs, & will again excite your sympathetic feelings.

If any person bid fair for length of years, I thought this was the Case with my late valuable parent, but heaven it seems, to whose decisions it becomes us always humbly to submit, as wise & fit, had determined that he should not long survive my dear mother, sorrow for the loss of whom, accompained with much inward anxiety for the welfare of his family, which he knew he should not leave in such easy & happy circumstances, as he wished to do, & as he once supposed it was in his power to have done, preyed upon his vitals & proved the means of bringing his days to a period, I ought not to say too soon, but sooner than I had flatter'd myself they would have ended, & sooner than the good wishes of his friends in general 199would have extended them. He had lived long enough to answer the great purposes of life; with the partner of his cares, with your own excellent & kind parents, whom I consider'd too in some sort as mine, & with other of our dear relatives & friends, who have been taken from us, in your absence, he is gone to rest, & may it be my concern to follow him.

I feel thankful, that I am not an infidel. When we once part with the Consolations of the Gospel, what support have we left, worthy to be mentioned, in such circumstances as those in which I am now placed? The idea of annihilation I Can never adopt. How pleasing the prospect of a revival, & how fond should we be of cherishing the thought of a reunion with our friends, with those among them more especially whom we have most highly esteemed, & of our being permitted to enjoy infinitely greater pleasure & satisfaction in the company of each other hereafter, than is possible here, where our happiness is so often liable to interruption, & is never free from some mixture of alloy. It was with the highest relish I read Dr Price's dissertation on this subject some years ago, & as you frequently see this goodman, if you think it worth while to do so, I beg you will give my respects to him.1 With very different views of the probable Consequences of a revolution in America, from what he, & many others, whom I have known & respected, on both sides of the water, possest, I have yet at the same entertained the sincerest veneration for him. A vol. of his sermons has lately been received & read here with much approbation.2 I have not myself as yet been gratified with the perusal of them.—

Of our political situation at present, you will hear eno' from other quarters, & will therefore not expect any thing from me[.] We are on the eve I hope of a change for the better, b[ut I] would not undertake to say what events, the jealousy [. . .] ignorance, ambition, or restless disposition of individual [. . .] may produce in the course of a few months, the evils arising from which it may not be in the power of the wisest counsels to prevent.—

If my father's affairs are settled in such a manner, as to prevent the loss of it to his family, my brother, who is connected in marriage with a partner that makes us all happy, will take the house, & my sister Betsey will live with him. As to me, the College to which I have returned the third time, will be my home.—3 Mr Otis goes the next week to Congress, & leaves Mrs O. in a situation, in which she stands in need of comfort—4 Mr & mrs Atkinson with their little family have gone to New York— Chas. Storer is a resident at 200Passamaquoddy, & his sister Polly is with him either there, or in Nova Scotia.— You will please to remember me to Mr Adams, & Mrs Smith. I am, my dear Mrs A., with the greatest affection, Yours,