"You have not mentioned the Governor in any of your letters. You must like him I am sure; for he is of a liberal, generous temper. I do not meet with your newspapers as often as I could wish; but, from those I have seen, the Governor's conduct appears to have been active, spirited, and judicious on every occasion that has occurred since his first appointment. It was to have been confidently expected that it would be so. His principles have always been those of ardent patriotism; and his mind, naturally strong and vigorous, has been enlightened by great experience. In my letter to him by Mr. Rose, (which, as Mr. Rose did not go to Annapolis as he expected, was not perhaps delivered,) I asked to have the pleasure of hearing from him when he should have a leisure hour which he could not otherwise employ. Will you take an opportunity of intimating this to him? Remind Mr. H. and Mr. D. of me. Tell them that they neglect me; but that I remember them with as much cordial esteem as ever. Where is my friend, Mr. E. ? If you should see him, say to him for me a thousand kind things. Inform Mr. M. that I wrote to him last autumn; but fear my letter miscarried. As to Mr. C. he has given me up entirely. There are many other friends of whom I could speak; but I have not time. There is one, however, of whom I will find time to speak; and to her I beg you to say that she shares in all the regard I feel for you."

"LONDON, August 29th, 1808.

"DEAR N.,-I have had the pleasure to receive your letter of the 16th of July, and am happy to see that you do not forget me.

I should reluctantly quarrel with your domestic felicity: but I might perhaps be in danger of doing so, if it appeared to engross you so entirely as to leave no leisure for a recollection now and then of us who are absent.

"The letter of which you speak, (enclosing one from Mrs. P.,) came safe to hand; and if it had not, I should have invented half a dozen apologies for you. I know you so well, that, when you appear to neglect me, I am ready to throw the blame upon fortune, upon accident, (who are, I suspect, the same personages,) upon every thing, and every body, rather than upon you. " My health has been rather worse than I wished it; but I am now convalescent. A short absence from town, (my family are still out of town) sea-air and sea-bathing have put me up again. "Such a result of my labours for the public, as you would flatter me with, would make me, I doubt not, the healthiest man in England. There is a sort of moral health, however, which crosses, and difficulties, and disappointments, tend very much to promote. I must endeavour to console myself with the opinion that I have laid in a good stock of that, while I was losing some of the other.

"After all this philosophising, I am half inclined to envy you the smooth, even tenour of your life. You are every way happy-at home-abroad Nothing disturbs your tranquillity, farther than to show you the value of it.

"Beloved by your family-respected and esteemed every where-your official capacity acknowledged-your official exertions successful-what have you to desire? But I have been so tossed about in the world, that, although I am as happy at home as my neighbours, I can hardly be said to have had a fair and decent share of real quiet. The time may come, however, when I too shall be tranquil, and when, freed from a host of importunate cares, that now keep me company whether I will or not, I may look back upon the way I have travelled with a heart at ease, and forward with a Christian's hope. I suspect I am growing serious when I meant to be directly the reverse. Thus, indeed, it is with the great mass of our purposes.

"I am rejoiced that Annapolis holds up its head. In itself the most beautiful, to me the most interesting spot on earth, I would fain believe, that it is doomed to enjoy the honours of old age without its decrepitude. There is not a foot of ground in its neighbourhood which my memory has not consecrated, and which does not produce, as fancy traces it, a thousand retrospections that go directly to the heart. It was the scene of our youthful days. What more can be said? I would have it to be also the scene of my declining years.

"Tell J. that I would write to him if I could-but that I have scarcely leisure for this scrawl. He knows my affections, and will take the 'will for the deed.' I offer him through you, my felicitations upon the stability and wholesome effects of the Farmers' Bank. Ask him why it is that I do not hear from him? All days are not discount days, and a man may be cashier of the Bank of England, and yet have a moment to spare to those who love him. I beg you to remember me to the Governor and to Dr. G., and to other friends."

In a letter to Mr. Madison, dated January 16th, 1809, speaking of the publication of his official letter of the 21st of September, 1808, on the subject of the embargo, which had been communicated confidentially to Congress, but had found its way to the press, he says:

"I regret that you should have felt a moment's concern on account of the publicity given to my letter. It cannot be of the least importance. I do not believe that it will injure my standing here; but if it should, it can only lead to my recall; and as a recall, under such circumstances, would not imply the disapprobation of my own government, it would give me no pain; and it would most certainly put me to no inconvenience. I need not say how much I value every testimony of your friendship and confidence; but if (as I hope and trust) you will have been called to the office of President, it is my most earnest request that you will not permit that kindness of which I have already had so many proofs, to stand in the way of your views for the public good generally, or for what I am sure will be the same thing, the strength and prosperity of your administration. Send me back to my profession, with your good wishes, whenever it shall be thought expedient, and be assured of my sincere and unalterable attachment."

In a letter to the same of August 19th, 1809, he says:

" It appears from the newspapers that Mr. Adams has been appointed minister to St. Petersburg. I rejoice at this appointment, for many reasons. While I am speaking of a new diplomatic station, will you forgive me if I intimate that the old can scarcely remain much longer on their present establishment ? The salary is so dreadfully inadequate, that I am ruining myself here in spite of all the care I can take to avoid it; and I presume that General Armstrong is not better off at Paris, although the necessary expenses of Paris are less than those of London."

The following is a letter to his brother :

"LONDON, September 23d, 1809.

"DEAR N.,-I received, a few days ago, your letter of the 26th of June. I am much obliged to you for the intelligence given in a part of it, and still more for the kindness and affection which pervade the whole. A better choice of Governor could not, I should think, have been made. It must have been very agreeable to you, and I congratulate you upon it accordingly. I have not yet received the letter which you tell me I am to expect from the Governor and Council. I shall be happy to do all in my power to fulfil their wishes, whatever they may be. William is most fortunately fixed, and I have the utmost confidence that he will do well. If he does otherwise his condemnation will be great indeed. The children who are with me have shot up at a prodigious rate, and require much care and expense. Charles, who is a remarkably promising boy, has finished his preparatory course, and is now at Eton. Edward will be placed, after Christmas, at the school which Charles has left. The rest will continue to have masters at home.

"My anxiety to return does not diminish. On the contrary, it grows upon me, and I find it necessary to wrestle with it. You know that I have as many and as strong inducements to be contented here, as any American could have; but England is not Maryland; and foreign friends, however great, or numerous, or kind, cannot interest us like those of our native land, the companions of our early days, the witnesses and competitors of our first struggles in life, and the indulgent partakers of our sorrows and our joys! I trust that I have as little disposition as any man to repine at my lot, and I know that I endeavour to form my mind to a devout and reverential submission to the will of God. Yet I cannot conceal from myself, that every day adds something to my cares and nothing to my happiness; that I am growing old among strangers; and that my heart, naturally warm and open, becomes cold by discipline, contracted by duty, and sluggish from want of exercise. These may be called imaginary ills; but there is another, which all the world will admit to be substantial--I speak to you in confidence-my salary is found by experience to be far short of the actual necessities of my situation. It was fixed at its present rate many years ago, when the style of living and the prices of articles would not bear a comparison with those of the present time. I have no right to complain, however; and, therefore, I write this for your own perusal merely."

The following extract of a letter to Mrs. Ninian Pinkney, refers to a domestic misfortune which she had recently sustained:

"LONDON, June 24th, 1809.

"MY DEAR MADAM, If I had not found it impossible to answer your letter by the return of the Pacific, it would have been answered. Business occupied my time, and anxiety my heart to the last moment. I would have cheated the last of these tyrants of an hour or two by conversing with you; but the first forbade it, and I had no choice but to submit. From this double despotism I am now comparatively free, and the use which I make of my liberty is to trespass on you with a few lines.

" I shall not condole with you on your late loss, though I am able to conjecture how keenly it has been felt; you have yourself suggested one of the consolations which best support the good under the heaviest of all human calamities: We shall meet again in purity and joy the friends who are every day falling around us. There is nothing which more effectually cheers the soul in its dark mortal pilgrimage than this noble confidence; life would, indeed, be a sad journey without it; the power of