CCXXXIX. TO WILLIAM STRAHAN
Boston, 22 September, 1763.
Dear Friend:—
I write in pain with an arm lately dislocated, so can only acknowledge the receipt of your favours of May 3 and 10, and thank you for the intelligence they contain concerning your publick affairs. I am now 400 miles from home, but hope to be there again in about three weeks. The Indian war upon our Western settlements was undoubtedly stirr’d up by the French on the Mississippi, before they had heard of the peace between the two nations; and will probably cease when we are in possession of what is there ceded to us. My respects to Mrs. Strahan, and love to your children. I am, dear friend, very affectionately yours,
B. Franklin.
CCXL. TO MISS MARY STEVENSON
Philadelphia, 14 March, 1764.
Dear Polly:—
I have received your kind letters of August 30th and November 16th. Please to return my thanks, with those of my friend, to Mr. Stanley for his favor in the music, which gives great satisfaction. I am glad to hear of the welfare of the Blount family, and the addition it has lately received, and particularly that your Dolly’s health is mended. Present my best respects to them and to the good Dr. and Mrs. Hawkesworth when you see them.
I believe you were right in dissuading your good mother from coming hither. The proposal was a hasty thought of mine, in which I considered only some profit she might make by the adventure and the pleasure to me and my family from the visit, but forgot poor Polly and what her feelings must be on the occasion, and perhaps did not sufficiently reflect that the inconveniences of such a voyage to a person of her years and sex must be more than the advantages could compensate.
I am sincerely concerned to hear of Mrs. Rooke’s long-continued affliction with that cruel gout. My best wishes attend her and good Mrs. Tickell. Let me hear from you as often as you can afford it. You can scarce conceive the pleasure your letters give me. Blessings on his soul that first invented writing, without which I should at this distance be as effectually cut off from my friends in England as the dead are from the living. But I write so little that I can have no claim to much from you. Business, publick and private, devours all my time. I must return to England for repose. With such thoughts I flatter myself, and need some kind friend to put me often in mind that old trees cannot safely be transplanted.
Adieu, my amiable friend, and believe me ever yours most affectionately,
B. Franklin.
CCXLI. TO WILLIAM STRAHAN
Philadelphia, 30 March, 1764.
Dear Friend:—
I begin to think it long since I had the pleasure of hearing from you.
Enclosed is one of our last Gazettes, in which you will see that our dissensions are broke out again, more violently than ever. Such a necklace of Resolves! and all nemine contradicente, I believe you have seldom seen. If you can find room for them and our messages in the Chronicle (but perhaps ’tis too much to ask), I should be glad to have them there; as it may prepare the minds of those in power for an application that I believe will shortly be made from this Province to the crown, to take the government into its own hands. They talk of sending me over with it, but it will be too soon for me. At least I think so at present. Adieu, my dear Friend, and believe me ever
yours affectionately,
B. Franklin.
P. S.—My love to my young Wife, and to Mrs. Strahan, Rachey, Billy, &c., &c. In your next tell me how you all do, and don’t oblige me to come and see before I am quite ready.
CCXLII. TO MRS. CATHERINE GREENE
Philadelphia, 15 April, 1764.
Dear Friend:—
I have before me your most acceptable favor of December 24th. Publick business and our publick confusions have so taken up my attention that I suspect I did not answer it when I received it, but am really not certain; so, to make sure, I write this line to acknowledge the receiving of it, and to thank you for it. I condole with you on the death of the good old lady, your mother. Separations of this kind from those we love are grievous; but it is the will of God that such should be the nature of things in this world. All that ever were born are either dead or must die. It becomes us to submit and to comfort ourselves with the hope of a better life and more happy meeting hereafter.
Sally kept to her horse the greatest part of the journey, and was much pleased with the tour. She often remembers, with pleasure and gratitude, the kindnesses she met with and received from our friends everywhere, and particularly at your house. She talks of writing by this post, and my dame sends her love to you, and thanks for the care you took of her old man, but, having bad spectacles, cannot write at present.
Mr. Kent’s compliment is a very extraordinary one, as he was obliged to kill himself and two others in order to make it; but, being killed in imagination only, they and he are all yet alive and well, thanks to God, and I hope will continue so as long as, dear Katy, your affectionate friend,
B. Franklin.
P. S.—My best respects to Mrs. Greene, and love to “the little dear creatures.” I believe the instructions relating to the post-office have been sent to Mr. Rufus Greene.
CCXLIII.. TO WILLIAM STRAHAN
Philadelphia, 1 May, 1764.
Dear Straney:—
I received your favour of December 20th. You cannot conceive the satisfaction and pleasure you give your friends here by your political letters. Your accounts are so clear, circumstantial, and complete, that tho’ there is nothing too much, nothing is wanting to give us, as I imagine, a more perfect knowledge of your publick affairs than most people have that live among you. The characters of your speakers and actors are so admirably sketch’d, and their views so plainly opened, that we see and know everybody; they all become of our acquaintance. So excellent a manner of writing seems to me a superfluous gift to a mere printer. If you do not commence author for the benefit of mankind, you will certainly be found guilty hereafter of burying your talent. It is true that it will puzzle the Devil himself to find any thing else to accuse you of, but remember he may make a great deal of that. If I were king (which may God in mercy to us all prevent) I should certainly make you the historiographer of my reign. There could be but one objection—I suspect you might be a little partial in my favour. But your other qualifications for an historian being duly considered, I believe we might get over that.
Our petty publick affairs here are in the greatest confusion, and will never, in my opinion, be composed, while
