while, the clouds were growing black in the political sky. Mr. Adams
wrote arguments and appeals in the news journals over Latin signatures,
papers of instructions to Representatives to the General Court, and
legal portions of the controversy between the delegates and Governor
Hutchinson. In all this work Mrs. Adams constantly sympathized and
advised. In August, 1774, he went to Philadelphia as a delegate to a
general council of the colonies called to concert measures for united
action. And now begins the famous correspondence, which goes on for a
period of nine years, which was intended to be seen only by the eyes of
her husband, which she begs him, again and again, to destroy as not
worth the keeping, yet which has given her a name and place among the
world's most charming letter-writers.

Her courage, her cheerfulness, her patriotism, her patience never fail
her. Braintree, where, with her little brood, she is to stay, is close
to the British lines. Raids and foraging expeditions are imminent. Hopes
of a peaceful settlement grow dim. "What course you can or will take,"
she writes her husband, "is all wrapped in the bosom of futurity.
Uncertainty and expectation leave the mind great scope. Did ever any
kingdom or State regain its liberty, when once it was invaded, without
bloodshed? I cannot think of it without horror. Yet we are told that all
the misfortunes of Sparta were occasioned by their too great solicitude
for present tranquillity, and, from an excessive love of peace, they
neglected the means of making it sure and lasting. They ought to have
reflected, says Polybius, that, 'as there is nothing more desirable or
advantageous than peace, when founded in justice and honor, so there is
nothing more shameful, and at the same time more pernicious, when
attained by bad measures, and purchased at the price of liberty.'"

Thus in the high Roman fashion she faces danger; yet her sense of fun
never deserts her, and in the very next letter she writes, parodying her
husband's documents:--"The drouth has been very severe. My poor cows
will certainly prefer a petition to you, setting forth their grievances,
and informing you that they have been deprived of their ancient
privileges, whereby they are become great sufferers, and desiring that
these may be restored to them. More especially as their living, by
reason of the drouth, is all taken from them, and their property which
they hold elsewhere is decaying, they humbly pray