I remember, just before the commencement of the revolutionary war, my
mother was disputing with an English officer. He said the Americans,
of right, should not go to war; they could do nothing; they could get
no person to head them. She replied, that the Americans would have no
difficulty in finding some person to command their army; that she had
seven sons, and, if necessary, would lead them herself to oppose their
army. _Two_ of her sons fell during the war in the service of their
country. I have seven sons, whom I would much sooner lead to the field
than suffer our country to be insulted. Your friend,
CHARLES BIDDLE.
FROM JOHN TAYLOR, OF CAROLINA.
Virginia, near Port Royal, March 25, 1803,
DEAR SIR,
By your note from the Bowling Green I find you are under two mistakes.
One, that I am a candidate for Congress; the other, that I am making a
book. As to the first, I have withstood all solicitation; and,
although a few gentlemen have been pleased, without my knowledge, to
make a stir, as it is called, nothing will come of it, and the old
colonel will once more be felicitated.
As to the second, writing is one of my amusements, but in a wild,
careless, and desultory way. Judge, then, how unlikely such scraps are
to come out a book. Not that I would hesitate to publish any thing
which might do these people good, however it might effect my own name,
about which the fifty years which have passed over my head have
rendered me quite indifferent.
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