John Quincy Adams to Louisa Catherine Adams, September 30, 1804

Quincy 30. September 1804.

After an interval of considerable anxiety, arising from the lapse
of time, since I had heard from my dearest friend, I was at length at once confirmed in
my apprehensions, and in some sort relieved from their alarm by your letter of the 14 th: which however I did not receive untill the Evening before
last— 1 The Washington Post Mark on the
cover was dated the 15 th: but, I had sent into Boston to
enquire expressly at the Post-Office there for letters, as late as the 26 th: when there were none— I am glad however that at last some
of my concern is removed, though by the certainty that all was not unfounded— It is a
heavy affliction to find our poor child so frequently and so severely assailed with
dangerous illness; and this misfortune is aggravated by the consideration that your
excessive tenderness overpowers the delicacy of your Constitution, and brings on such
violent attacks upon yourself— It is perhaps impossible to square our conduct in such
cases to the dictates of cool reason— But let it be your continual reflection, that
duty, and virtue, the happiness of ourselves and our friends requires that we should use
the strongest exertions to controul the impulse of our own feelings, to moderate those
emotions which we cannot suppress, and to be prepared with resignation for those
dispensations of Providence, which for wise though mysterious purposes, chastizes us,
for our own good.

The loss of children is unquestionably among the cruellest
calamities to which our calamitous race is subject— But it is what all who have children
to lose must expect, for it is what very few of them escape. Now although
events are so very little within our guidance or direction, it behooves us to be the
more watchful and attentive to preserve that empire over ourselves which is in our own
power— To sink under evils whatever they may be is a proof of weakness— To sink under
evils, common to the greatest part of the world, and which the rest of the world suffer
without sinking under them, is a proof of uncommon weakness; and what a generous spirit
should disdain.

These remarks you will perhaps think much easier for theory than
for practice— But if they are true we ought to strive and put them in practice— Honest
and earnest endeavours are seldom, without some success— They are reflections necessary
both for you and me, since our child has such infirm and precarious health— At the same
time let us always hope for the best— The first and second year of every child’s life,
is almost always a period of continual danger, and this operation of teething, is not
critical to our children alone— The most dangerous season for him I fondly flatter my
self is past— Your own illness I impute altogether to your extreme anxiety for him, and
please myself with the anticipation that before this, you are perfectly recovered.

I was yesterday with my father at Cambridge, to attend the last
melancholy tribute of respect, to the remains of M r: Willard
the President of the College— It is but six weeks since he was the principal performer
in solemnities of the same nature for D r: Howard, of which I
wrote you at the time— M r: Willard died, absent from home—At
New-Bedford; on his return from a tour he had been making during the vacation at College
after the annual Commencement— An Eulogy on his character was delivered by M r: Webber, one of the Professors, and a procession, preceded
by the Students of the College, attended the mortal part of this excellent man to its
last home. 2

You will see that the Spanish Marquis, has given great offence to
our friend Jackson, by a very courteous attempt to make him subservient to his present
political purposes. Jackson appears not to be well versed in the profundities of
diplomatic skill; and not at-all to understand the art of filing down corruption into
patriotism— It is however possible, that he may have given the Marquis’s proposals a
Construction different from what was intended— He might only mean to obtain a vehicle
for popular negotiation against the present Administration, among the federalists, such
as he formerly used against their predecessors, with his worthy friends of that day.— He
was somewhat indiscreet indeed in talking about political intolerance, and an Administration which he would not call a Government, to a person,
so much of a stranger to him as Jackson— 3

I have not yet positively determined, whether I shall take the
water passage, from Newport or New-Bedford to New-York, or shall go by land— Though at
present I incline to the latter, as being least exposed to delays of wind and weather—
My purpose still is to take my departure in three weeks from to-morrow— But I am
apprehensive I shall not have an opportunity to send round a trunk by Water—for since
the owner of the Alert has sold her, and broken up his business, I do not find there is
any vessel that plies between Boston, and Georgetown or Alexandria. 4

We are all well here; and God grant that this may find you all so.—
M r: Cranch is still confined, but better than when I wrote
you last— M rs: Norton’s son Thomas has been dangerously ill
with a dysentary, but is recovering.

Ever affectionately your’s.