dollars; and our own produce in proportion; butcher’s meat at six and eight shillings per pound; board at fifty and sixty dollars per week; rates high.  That, I suppose, you will rejoice at; so would I, did it remedy the evil.  I pay five hundred dollars, and a new Continental rate has just appeared, my proportion of which will be two hundred more.  I have come to this determination,—­to sell no more bills, unless I can procure hard money for them, although I shall be obliged to allow a discount.  If I sell for paper, I throw away more than half, so rapid is the depreciation; nor do I know that it will be received long.  I sold a bill to Blodget at five for one, which was looked upon as high at that time.  The week after I received it, two emissions were taken out of circulation, and the greater part of what I had proved to be of that sort; so that those to whom I was indebted are obliged to wait, and before it becomes due, or is exchanged, it will be good for—­as much as it will fetch, which will be nothing, if it goes on as it has done for this three months past.  I will not tire your patience any longer.  I have not drawn any further upon you.  I mean to wait the return of the Alliance, which with longing eyes I look for.  God grant it may bring me comfortable tidings from my dear, dear friend, whose welfare is so essential to my happiness that it is entwined around my heart, and cannot be impaired or separated from it without rending it asunder.

I cannot say that I think our affairs go very well here.  Our currency seems to be the source of all our evils.  We cannot fill up our Continental army by means of it.  No bounty will prevail with them.  What can be done with it?  It will sink in less than a year.  The advantage the enemy daily gains over us is owing to this.  Most truly did you prophesy, when you said that they would do all the mischief in their power with the forces they had here.

My tenderest regards ever attend you.  In all places and situations, know me to be ever, ever yours.

AUTEUIL, 5th September, 1784.

My, Dear Sister: 

Auteuil is a village four miles distant from Paris, and one from Passy.  The house we have taken is large, commodious, and agreeably situated near the woods of Boulogne, which belong to the King, and which Mr. Adams calls his park, for he walks an hour or two every day in them.  The house is much larger than we have need of; upon occasion, forty beds may be made in it.  I fancy it must be very cold in winter.  There are few houses with the privilege which this enjoys, that of having the salon, as it is called, the apartment where we receive company, upon the first floor.  This room is very elegant, and about a third larger than General Warren’s hall.  The dining-room is upon the right hand, and the salon upon the left, of the entry, which has large glass doors opposite to each other, one opening into the court, as they call it, the other into a large and beautiful garden.  Out of the dining-room you pass through an entry into the kitchen, which is rather small for so large a house.  In this entry are stairs which you ascend, at the top of which is a long gallery fronting the street, with six windows, and opposite to each window you open into the chambers, which all look into the garden.