Your amanuensis improves in her hand-writing. She superscribes your letters elegantly. My love to her. I am not sorry that John went to England. He will have opportunities of improvement and gaining information there. LETTER CCLXIII. I am J. A. Philadelphia, 13 March, 1796. MY DEAREST FRIEND, I COVET the harp of Amphion. What would I not give for the harp of Amphion? In my walks in the cedar grove, in rocky run, and on Penn's hill, I should play upon my lyre, and the merry rocks would dance after me and reel into walls. This would be to me a very pleasant and profitable private amusement. But there is another use I could make of my instrument in my publie employment, more grateful to a benevolent heart because more useful to mankind. In no age of the world was it more wanted. "Amphion thus bade wild dissension cease, And softened mortals learned the arts of peace. From various discords to create Nor slack nor strain the tender strings That strike the subject's answering heart, Alas! I am not an Amphion. I have been thirty years singing and whistling among my rocks, and not one would ever move without money. I have been twenty years saying if not singing, preaching if not playing "From various discords to create The music of a well tuned state; And the soft, silent harmony that springs but an uncomplying world will not regard my uncouth discourses. I cannot sing nor play. If I had eloquence, or humor, or irony, or satire, or the harp or lyre of Amphion, how much good could I do to the world! What a mortification to my vanity! What a humiliation to my self-love! "well The rocks in the House of Representatives will not dance to my lyre. They will not accord to a tuned state." They will not endure "the harmony that springs from sacred union and consent of things." They are for breaking all the instruments but that of the thorough bass, and then blowing you deaf and dumb. There are bold and daring strides making to demolish the President, Senate, and all but the House, which, as it seems to me, must be the effect of the measures that many are urging. Be not alarmed, however, they will not carry their point. The treaty will be executed, and that by the consent of the House. His discourses I am going to hear Dr. Priestley. are learned, ingenious, and useful. They will be printed, and, he says, dedicated to me. Don't tell this secret though, for no other being knows it. It will get me the character of a heretic, I fear. I presume, however, that dedicating a book to a man will not imply that he approves every thing in it. The weather is so fine that I long to be upon my hills. Pray, since my harp cannot build walls, how do my friends go on who are obliged to employ their elbows in that laborious work? I sometimes think that if I were in the House of Representatives, and could make speeches there, I could throw some light upon these things. If Mr. Jefferson should be President, I believe I must put up as a candidate for the House. But this is my vanity. I feel sometimes as if I could speechify among them, but, alas, alas! I am too old. It would soon destroy my health. I declare, however, if I were in that House, I would drive out of it some demons that haunt it. There are false doctrines and false jealousies predominant there at times that it would be easy to exorcise. You see I mind no order in what I write to know your criticism will not be cruel to you. I J. A. LETTER CCLXIV. MY DEAREST FRIEND, Philadelphia, 19 March, 1796. We have a turn of weather as cold as any we have had through the whole winter. The violence of the north-west wind, which has thrown down chimneys and blown off roofs in this city, we suppose, has prevented the eastern mail from crossing the North River and deprived me of my Thursday's letter as yet. I hope it will come to-day. A thousand and one speeches have been made in the House of Representatives upon the motion for petitioning the President for papers. Twenty complete demonstrations have been made of the constitutionality of it, and twenty more of its unconstitutionality. Ten of its expediency, and as many of its inexpediency. Five of its utility, and the same number of its inutility. After all, they will ask and receive, and then lash and maul awhile, and then do the needful. I dined on the 17th with the friendly sons of St. Patrick, and to-day I dine with Rush. Judge Cushing departs this morning, and Mrs. Cushing will call upon you. Ellsworth embarks in a day or two for South Carolina and Georgia. We have a party business from Kentucky; a strange complaint against Mr. Marshall, which obliges us to sit to-day, Saturday. I regret this, because it is too exhausting to me to sit so constantly. My task is pretty severe, especially in cold weather. This wind will delay intelligence from Europe for ten days or a fortnight. Liancourt is going with Ellsworth, and Talleyrand talks of embarking for Hamburg. Having no horse, and reading more and walking less than usual, I am solicitous about my health. The birds, in numbers and variety, began to sing, and the grass to grow green, before this last gripe of Queen Mab. The poor birds have hard times now. I cannot see a ray of hope before June. If the House should be frenzical, we must sit till next March, and leave it to the people to decide by choosing a new President, Senate and House, who will harmoniously go all lengths, call George a tyrant to his face, the English nation pirates, break the treaty, enter into an alliance offensive with France, and go to war with spirit, consistency and dignity. But I believe the House will adopt the language which says that the just keep their promises though they have made them to their hurt, and that they must make the best of a bad bargain, and come off thus, as well as they can, by abusing Jay, President, and Senate, and treaty, without pretending to annul it. Hi! ho! Oh dear! I am, most tenderly, J. A. |