fer from the letters of John
Adams to his wife that the habits of the wealthy citizens of
Philadelphia were even then luxurious, much more so than in Boston. We
read of a dinner given to Adams and other delegates by a young Quaker
lawyer, at which were served ducks, hams, chickens, beef, pig, tarts,
cream, custards, jellies, trifles, floating islands, beer, porter,
punch, wine, and a long list of other things. All such indulgences, and
many others, the earnest men and women of that day undertook cheerfully
to deny themselves.

Adams returned these civilities by dining a party on salt fish,--perhaps
as a rebuke to the costly entertainments with which he was surfeited,
and which seemed to him unseasonable in "times that tried men's souls."
But when have Philadelphia Quakers disdained what is called good living?

Adams, at first delighted with the superior men he met, before long was
impatient with the deliberations of the Congress, and severely
criticised the delegates. "Every man," wrote he, "upon every occasion
must show his oratory, his criticism, and his political abilities. The
consequence of this is that business is drawn and spun out to an
immeasurable length. I believe, if it was moved and seconded that we
should come to a resolution that three and two make five, we should be
entertained with logic and rhetoric, law, history, politics, and
mathematics; and then--we should pass the resolution unanimously in the
affirmative. These great wits, these subtle critics, these refined
geniuses, these learned lawyers, these wise statesmen, are so fond of
showing their parts and powers as to make their consultations very
tedious. Young Ned Rutledge is a perfect bob-o-lincoln,--a swallow, a
sparrow, a peacock; excessively vain, excessively weak, and excessively
variable and unsteady, jejune, inane, and puerile." Sharp words these!
This session of Congress resulted in little else than the interchange of
opinions between Northern and Southern statesmen. It was a mere advisory
body, useful, however, in preparing the way for a union of the Colonies
in the coming contest. It evidently did not "mean business," and
"business" was what Adams wanted, rather than a vain display of
abilities without any practical purpose.

The second session of the Congress was not much more satisfactory. It
did, however, issue a Declaration of Rights, a protest against a
standing army in the Colonies, a recommendation of commercial
non-intercourse w