and generous of everything but his own opinions, of which I think you shall get no great profit. We liked him. We are all well, and have just gone through a Merry Christmas —really and truly merry—and a really happy New Year. All good wishes we send you; and shall expect to have yours in return very soon, to stow away with the rest in our great treasury, upon which you, too, may draw when you like, and find it, perchance, sounder and safer than anything you are likely to make in Washington this year. Addio, caro.
March 4, 1842.my dear Legare,—
The four poor guns at sunrise this morning, instead of the hundred that ushered in the day last year at this time,1 were an apt commentary on Mark Anthony's drivelling, and much in the same key. Whiggery is over. Tylerism there never was any,2 at least not in this part of Christendom. And if there had been symptoms of either, the legislature that adjourned last night, to the great delight of all sensible people, has done what it could to prevent the disease from breaking out. Besides the foolish and useless extra session, which the Whigs ordered by a strictly party vote, three quarters of them, with the governor at their head, went against a State tax; while the other quarter, with about four fifths of the Locos, went for it, and lost it by a majority of eight, thus putting us into the same road of repudiation with other States, to the annoyance of every man in Boston whose opinion you or I should care a button about.3 However, I was glad to see in the paper this morning, that one of the leading Democrats warned them yesterday, in his place, that ‘next year there will be a party in power who will dare to pay the State debt.’ Indeed
They tell us 't is our birthday, and we'll keep it
With double pomp of sadness,
'T is what the day deserves, etc.