MY FRIEND,

TO JOHN ADAMS.1

Weymouth, 16 April, 1764.

Shall not I make

I THINK I write to you every day. my letters very cheap? Don't you light your pipe with them? I care not if you do. "T is a pleasure to me to write. Yet I wonder I write to you with so little restraint, for as a critic I fear you more than any other person on earth, and 't is the only character in which I ever did or ever will fear you. say you? Do you approve of that speech? you think me a courageous being? Courage is a laudable, a glorious virtue in your sex, why not in mine? For my part, I think you ought to applaud me for mine.

Solus your Diana.

What

Don't

Exit Rattle.

And now, pray tell me, how you do? Do you feel any venom working in your veins? Did you ever before experience such a feeling? (This letter will be made up with questions, I fancy, not set in order before you, neither.) How do you employ yourself? Do you go abroad yet? Is it not cruel to bestow those favors upon others, which I should rejoice to receive, yet must be deprived of?

1 Mr. Adams was in Boston, undergoing the process, then in vogue, of inoculation with the smallpox.

I have lately been thinking whether my mamma -when I write again I will tell you something. Did not you receive a letter to-day by Hannes ?

This is a right girl's letter, but I will turn to the other side and be sober, if I can.

But what is bred in the bone will never be out of the flesh, (as Lord M. would have said.)

As I have a good opportunity to send some milk, I have not waited for your orders, lest, if I should miss this, I should not catch such another. If you want more balm, I can supply you.

Adieu;

evermore remember me with the tenderest affection, which is also borne unto you by

your

A. SMITH.

TO JOHN ADAMS.

Thursday Eve. Weymouth, 19 April, 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 agog in such a manner. And a fine encouragement I have to unravel the mystery 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 didst thou learn that equity? I thank thee, friend; such knowledge as that is easy enough to be obtained without paying for it. As to the insinua

tion, 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 enemies, 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 would rather acknowledge 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 greeable to condemn ourselves than to be conlemned by others.

But, although it is vastly disagreeable to be accised of faults, yet no person ought to be offended when such accusations are delivered in the spirit of friendship. I now call upon you to fulfil your promise,and tell me all my faults both of omission and commission, and all the evil you either know or thini of me. Be to me a second conscience, nor put ne off to a more convenient season. There can be notime more proper than the present. It will be harder to erase them when habit has strengthened and confirmed them. Do not think I trifle. These are redly meant as words of truth and soberness. For the present, good night.

Friday Morning, April 20th. What does it signify? Why may not I visit you 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 myself 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 sprites. One will catch me and leap into the sea; another will carry me up a precipice like that which Edgar describes in Lear, then toss me down, and, were I not then light as the gossamer, I should shiver into atoms; another 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 would rather have the smallpox by inoculation half a dozen times than be sprited about as I am. What say you? Can you give me any encouragement to come? By the time you receive this I hope from experience you will be able to say, that the distemper is but a trisc. Think you I would not endure a trifle for the pleasure of seeing you? Yes, were it ten times that trifle, 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 excuse me that something I promised you, since it was a speech more undutiful than that which I just now stopped myself in. For the present, good bye.

Friday Evening.

I hope you smoke your letters well, before you deliver them. Mamma is so fearful lest I should catch the distemper, that she hardly ever thinks the letters are sufficiently purified. Did you never rob a bird's 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 smoking my letters.

But heyday, Mr. What 's your name, who taught you to threaten so vehemently? "A character be sides that of a critic, in which if I never did, I always hereafter shall fear you." Thou canst not prove a villain, impossible, — 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 feared; 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.

pine, it is filled with balm.

Do not re

Here is love, respects, regards, good wishes,—a whole wagon load of them, sent you from all the good folks in the neighbourhood.

To-morrow makes the fourteenth day. How many more are to come? I dare not trust myself 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,