I have received a good deal of paper from you; I wish it had been more coverd; the writing is very scant but I must not grumble. I know your time is not yours, nor mine. Your Labours must be great, and your mouth closed, but all you may communicate I beg you would. There is a pleasure I know not whence it arises nor can I stop now to find it out, but this I say there is a degree of pleasure in being able to tell new's -- especially any which so nearly concerns us as all your proceedings do.
I should have been more particuliar but I thought you knew everything that pass'd here. The present state of the inhabitants of Boston is that of the most abject slaves under the most cruel and despotick of Tyrants. Among many instances I could mention let me relate one. Upon the 17 of june printed hand Bills were pasted up at the corner of streets and up upon houses forbideing any inhabitant to go upon their houses or upon any eminence upon pain of death. The inhabitants dared not to look out of their houses nor bee heard or seen to ask a Question. Our prisoners were brought over to the long wharff and there laid all night without any care of their wounds or any resting place but the pavements till the next day, when they exchanged it for the jail, since which we hear they are civily treated. Their living cannot be good, as they can have
I would not have you be distressd about me. Danger they say makes people valient. Heitherto I have been distress'd, but not soardismayed. I have felt for my Country and her Sons, I have bled with them, and for them. Not all the havock and devastation they have made, has wounded me like the death of Warren. We wanted him in the Senate, we want him in his profession, we want him in the field. We mourn for the citizen, the senator, the [illegible] physician and the Warriour. May we have others raised up in his room.
I have had a very kind and friendly visit from our dear Friends Col. Warren, Lady and Son. Mrs. Warren spent a week almost with me, and he came and met her here and kept Sabbeth with me. Suppose she will write to you, tho she says you are in her debt. [illegible]
You scarcely make mention of Dr. Franklin. Surely he must be a valuable member. Pray what is become of your Judas. I see he is not with you upon the list of Delegates? I wish I could come and see you. I never suffer myself to think you are about returning soon. Can it, will it bee? May I ask? May I wish for it? When once I expect you the time will crawl till I see you -- but hush -- do you know tis eleven o clock at Night?
We have had some very fine rains, since I wrote you last. I hope we shall not now have famine added to war. Grain Grain is what we want here -- meat we may have enough and to spair. Pray dont let Bass forget my pins. Hardwick has applied to me for Mr. Bass to get him a 100 of needles no. 6 to carry on his stocking weaving. He says they in Phyladelphia will know the proper needle. We shall very soon have no coffee nor sugar nor pepper here -- but huckle berrys
All the good folks here send their regards. Unkle Quincy is just gone from here, sends his love. You dont say in the two last Letters I received how you do. I hope I have not felt unwell by sympathy, but I have been very unwell for this week tho better now. I saw a Letter of [yours] to Col. Palmer by General Washington. I hope I have one too.
Good Night with thoughts of [thee] do I close my Eyes; Angels gaurd and protect [thee], and may a safe return ere long bless thy