The first office ever held by President John Adams was that of Roadmaster to his native town. The young barrister, as he himself confesses, was very indignant at being elected to a post, with the duties of which he was unacquainted, and which he considered beneath his pretensions. His friend, Dr. Savil, explained to him that he had nominated him to the office to prevent his being elected constable. "They make it a rule," said the Doctor, "to compel every man to serve either as constable or surveyor of the highways, or to pay a fine." "They might as well," said Mr. Adams, "have chosen any boy in school, for I know nothing of the business; but since they have chosen me at a venture, I will accept it in the same manner, and find out my duty as I can." Accordingly he went to plowing, ditching, and blowing rocks and built a new stone bridge over a stream. He took infinite pains with his bridge, and employed the best workmen; "but," says he, "the next spring brought down a flood that threw my bridge all into ruins." The blame, however, fell upon the workmen, and all the town, he tells us, agreed that he had executed his office with "impartiality, diligence, and spirit." Mr. Adams was an extremely passionate man. One evening, just before the breaking out of the Revolution, while spending an evening in company with an English gentleman, the conversation turned upon the aggressions of the mother country. He became furious with anger. He said there was no justice left in Britain; that he wished for war, and that the whole Bourbon family was upon the back of Great Britain. He wished that anything might happen to them, and, as the clergy prayed for enemies in time of war, that "they might be brought to reason or to ruin." When he went home he was exceedingly repentant for having lost his temper, and wrote in his diary the following remarks: "I cannot but reflect upon myself with severity for these rash, inexperienced, boyish, wrong, and awkward expressions. A man who has no better government of his tongue, no more command of his temper, is unfit for anything but children's play, and the company of boys. A character can never be supported, if it can be raised, without a good, a great share of self-government. Such flights of passion, such starts of imagination, though they may strike a few of the fiery and inconsiderate, yet they sink a man with the wise. They expose him to danger, as well as familiarity, contempt, and ridicule." One of the most interesting events in the life of John Adams was his nomination of George Washington to the command of the Revolutionary armies. One day, in 1775, when Congress was full of anxiety concerning the army near Boston, and yet hesitated to adopt it as their own, fearing to take so decisive a step, John and Samuel Adams were walking up and down the State House yard in Philadelphia before the opening of the session, and were conversing upon the situation. "What shall we do?" asked Samuel Adams, at length. His kinsman said: "You know I have taken great pains to get our colleagues to agree upon some plan that we might be unanimous upon; but you know they will pledge themselves to nothing; but I am determined to take a step which shall compel them, and all the other members of Congress, to declare themselves for or against something. I am determined this morning to make a direct motion that Congress shall adopt the army before Boston, and appoint Colonel Washington commander of it." Samuel Adams looked grave at this proposition, but said nothing. When Congress had assembled, John Adams rose, and, in a short speech, represented the state of the colonies, the uncertainty in the minds of the people, the distresses of the army, the danger of its disbanding, the difficulty of collecting another if it should disband, and the probability that the British army would take advantage of our delays, march out of Boston, and spread desolation as far as they could go. He concluded by moving that Congress adopt the army at Cambridge and appoint a general. "Although," he continued, "this is not the proper time to nominate a general, yet, as I have reason to believe that this is a point of the greatest difficulty, I have no hesitation to declare that I have but one gentleman in my mind for that important command, and that is a gentleman from Virginia, who is among us, and is very well known to all of us; a gentleman whose skill and experience as an officer, whose independent fortune, great talents, and excellent universal character will command the approbation of all America, and unite the cordial exertions of all the colonies better than any other person in the Union." When Mr. Adams began this speech, Colonel Washington was present; but as soon as the orator pronounced the words "Gentleman from Virginia," he darted through the nearest door into the library. Mr. Samuel Adams seconded the motion which, as we all know, was, on a future day, unanimously carried. Mr. Adams relates that no one was so displeased with this appointment as John Hancock, the President of Congress. "While I was speaking," says John Adams, "on the state of the colonies, he heard me with visible pleasure; but when I came to describe Washington for the commander, I never remarked a more sudden and striking change of countenance. Mortification and resentment were expressed as forcibly as his face could exhibit them." Hancock, in fact, who was somewhat noted as a militia officer in Massachusetts, was vain enough to aspire to the command of the colonial forces. They had a fashion, during the Revolutionary war, John Adams tells us, of turning pictures of George III. upside down in the houses of patriots. Adams copied into his diary some lines which were written "under one of these topsey-turvey kings": Behold the man who had it in his power To make a kingdom tremble and adore. Intoxicate with folly, see his head Placed where the meanest of his subjects tread. Like Lucifer the giddy tyrant fell, He lifts his heel to Heaven, but points his head to Hell. It is evident, from more than one passage in the diary of John Adams, that he, too, in his heart, turned against Gen. Washington during the gloomy hours of the Revolution. At least he thought him unfit for the command. Just before the surrender of Burgoyne, Adams wrote in his diary the following passage: "Gates seems to be acting the same timorous, defensive part which has involved us in so many disasters. Oh, Heaven grant us one great soul! One leading mind would extricate the best cause from that ruin which seems to await it for the want of it. We have as good a cause as ever was fought for: we have great resources; the people are well tempered; one active, masterly capacity would bring order out of this confusion, and save this country." Thus it is always in war-time. When the prospect is gloomy, and when disasters threaten to succeed disasters, there is a general distrust of the general in command, though at that very time he may be exhibiting greater qualities and greater talents than ever before. John Adams tells us the reason why Thomas Jefferson, out of a committee of five, was chosen to write the Declaration of Independence. "Writings of his," says Mr. Adams, "were handed about, remarkable for the peculiar felicity of expression. Though a silent member in Congress, he was so frank, explicit and decisive upon committees and in conversation (not even Samuel Adams was more so) that he soon seized upon my heart; and upon this occasion I gave him my vote, and did all in my power to procure the votes of others. I think he had one more vote than any other, and that placed him at the head of the committee. I had the next highest number, and that placed me the second. The committee met, discussed the subject, and then appointed Mr. Jefferson and me to make the draft, because we were the two first upon the list." When this sub-committee of two had their first meeting, Jefferson urged Mr. Adams to make the draft; whereupon the following conversation occurred between them: "I will not," said Mr. Adams. "You should do it," said Jefferson. "Oh no," repeated Adams. "Why will you not?" asked Jefferson. "You ought to do it." "I will not," rejoined Adams. "Why?" again asked Jefferson. "Reasons enough," said Adams. "What can be your reasons?" inquired Jefferson. "Reason first—you are a Virginian, and a Virginian ought to appear at the head of this business. Reason second—I am obnoxious, suspected, and unpopular. You are very much otherwise. Reason third—you can write ten times better than I can." "Well," said Jefferson, "if you are decided, I will do as well as I can." "Very well," said Mr. Adams; "when you have drawn it up, we will have a meeting." Thus it was that Thomas Jefferson became the author of this celebrated document. Mr. Adams informs us that the original draft contained "a vehement philippic against negro slavery," which Congress ordered to be stricken out. Mr. Adams relates an amusing story of his sleeping one night with Doctor Franklin, when they were on their way to hold their celebrated conference with Lord Howe on Staten Island. It was at Brunswick, in New Jersey, where the tavern was so crowded that two of the commissioners were put into one room, which was little larger than the bed, and which had no chimney and but one small window. The window was open when the two members went up to bed, which Mr. Adams seeing, and being afraid of the night air, shut it close. "Oh," said Doctor Franklin, "don't shut the window, we shall be suffocated." Mr. Adams answered that he was afraid of the evening air; to which Doctor Franklin replied: "The air within this chamber will soon be, and indeed is now, worse than that without doors. Come, open the window and come to bed, and I will convince you. I believe you are not acquainted with my theory of colds." Mr. Adams complied with both these requests. He tells us that when he was in bed, the Doctor began to harangue upon air, and cold, and respiration, and perspiration, with which he was so much amused that he soon fell asleep. It does not appear that any ill consequences followed from their breathing during the night the pure air of heaven.
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