Every line from you, assuring me of the continued safety2 and repose of dear Thompson, awakens thankfulness to God in my heart. I am rather sorry that he has concluded to visit Plymouth [N. H.] at present; for, though his personal risk may not be great, yet it is more than probable that if he attempts to speak, the meeting will be disturbed. There is yet too much fever, and too little rationality, in the public mind, either for him or any of us to make addresses to the patient without having him attempt to knock us down. Write—print—distribute—this we may do with profit to our cause. I am glad to learn from you that the public curiosity still continues to thirst after our publications. Let it have a full supply—for, though we have not sown to the wind, hitherto, yet we are able to reap in the whirlwind. The resolutions and speeches of our enemies will furnish us with an inexhaustible supply of arms and ammunition to carry on the war. I would not take a thousand dollars for those that were adopted and delivered in what was once the old Cradle of Liberty. . . . Let our step be firm—our demeanor dignified—our speech just and fearless. . . . You write nothing about brother James. Has he yet sailed3 from Boston? and if so, under what circumstances did he leave?
This text is part of:
Table of Contents:
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 United States License.
An XML version of this text is available for download, with the additional restriction that you offer Perseus any modifications you make. Perseus provides credit for all accepted changes, storing new additions in a versioning system.