38. JOHN ADAMS
Philadelphia, 2 June 1775
I had yesterday the pleasure of two letters from you, by Dr. Church.1 We had been so long without any intelligence from our country, that the sight of the Dr. gave us great joy. I have received no letters from England, until the Doctor brought me one from Mr. Dilly.
Mr. Henly goes, to-morrow, to the camp at Cambridge. I am not so ill as I was when I left you, though not well. Bass has recovered of the small-pox.
Our debates and deliberations are tedious; from nine to four, five, and once near six—our determinations very slow—I hope sure. The Congress will support us, but in their own way. Not precisely in that way which I could wish, but in a better way than we could well expect, considering what a heterogeneous body it is.
The prospect of crops in all the Southern colonies never was exceeded. What will become of the immense quantities of provisions, when the non-exportation takes place, I can’t conceive. Surely we shall not starve.
Poor Bostonians! My heart bleeds for them day and night. God preserve and bless them!
Was you frightened when the sheep-stealers got a drubbing at Grape Island? Father Smith prayed for our scow crew, I doubt not; but how did my dear friend Dr. Tufts sustain the shock? My duty and love to them and all others who justly claim them. My dear Nabby, and Johnny and Charley and Tommy are never out of my thoughts. God bless, preserve and prosper them. You need not send me any money; what I shall want will be supplied me here, by my colleagues, to be repaid after our return.
Dr. Warren writes me about my brother.2 My love to both my brothers, my duty to my mother and your uncle Quincy. Tell him I hope our company continue their exercises. He would burst to see whole companies of armed Quakers in this city, in uniforms, going through the manual and manoeuvres like regular troops.