On his return, Mr. Adams was congratulated by his anxious friends upon the prudent course he had pursued, and was re-elected a member of the ensuing Congress. During the interim his pen was again usefully employed. Mr. Sewall, the king’s attorney-general, had written a series of elaborate and ingenious essays, maintaining the supremacy of parliament and censuring, in no measured terms, the proceedings of the whigs. Under the name of “Novanglus,” Mr. Adams stripped the gay ornaments and gaudy apparel from the high-varnished picture that Mr. Sewall had presented to the public, and when he had finished his work, a mere skeleton of visible deformity was left to gaze upon.

The attorney-general was made to tremble before the keen cuts of the falchion quill of this devoted patriot. So deep was his reasoning, so learned were his expositions, and so lucid and conclusive were his demonstrations, that his antagonist exclaimed, as he retired hissing from the conflict, “he strives to hide his inconsistencies under a huge pile of learning.” The pile proved too huge for royal power, and was sufficiently large to supply the people with an abundance of light. The supremacy of parliament was an unfortunate issue for ministers. It left the sages of liberty in a position to hurl their arrows freely at them, without denying the allegiance of the colonists to the king. The British cabinet worked out its own destruction, if not with fear and trembling, it was with blindness and disgrace—a disgrace arising from the grossest impolicy and injustice, if not to say ignorance and infatuation. They were entirely mistaken in the people of America—they awoke the wrong passengers.

In May, 1775, Mr. Adams again took his seat in Congress. The members convened under quite different feelings from those that pervaded their bosoms the previous autumn. Revolution was now rolling fearfully upon their bleeding country, hope of redress was expiring like the last flickerings of an exhausted taper, dark and portentous clouds were accumulating, the ministerial ermine was already steeped in blood, the chains of servitude were clanking in their ears, the dying groans of their fellow citizens and the mournful lamentations of widows and orphans were resounding through the land, and the prophetic conclusion of Adams and Henry, drawn at the previous session, began to force itself upon the minds of members, that “after all we must fight.” As a preliminary measure, it was necessary to appoint a commander of the military forces to be raised. To fix upon the best man was of vital importance. Many were yet chanting the song of peace and thought it premature to make such an appointment, lest it should widen the breach which they still hoped might be repaired. The New England delegates were not of this class. When the purple current was wantonly diverted from its original channel upon the heights of Lexington, they hung their syren harps upon the weeping willows that shaded the tombs of their murdered brethren. They were convinced that war was inevitable. All soon became satisfied that prudence dictated a preparation for such an event. A suitable man to lead the armies and direct their course was a desideratum. The southern members were willing to submit to any nomination made by the eastern delegates. General Artemas Ward of Massachusetts was fixed upon by most of them, except John Adams. In George Washington he had discovered the commingling qualities of a philanthropist, a philosopher, a statesman and a hero. He was prompted by the force of moral courage to at once urge his colleagues to sanction his choice. They were all opposed to it, as were also the other members of the northern and eastern delegation. Mr. Adams was firm in his purpose, and met every objection with conclusive arguments. These discussions were all private, not a word was uttered on the floor of Congress as to who should be the man. At last Samuel Adams became convinced that his junior colleague was right. The work was soon accomplished. Satisfied that his measure would be supported by a majority, John Adams rose in Congress and proposed that a commander of the American armies should be appointed. When this resolution was passed, he proceeded to portray the requisite qualities necessary to fit a man for this important station, and emphatically remarked “such a man is within these walls.” But few knew who he was about to nominate, and could not imagine who among their own number was possessed of all these noble attainments. A transient pause ensued. A breathless anxiety produced a painful suspense. The next moment the name of Colonel George Washington of Virginia, was announced, at which the colonel was more astonished than any other member of the house. He had not received an intimation of the intended honour from any person. He was nominated by John Adams about the middle of June, the nomination was seconded by Samuel Adams, the next day the vote was taken and was unanimous in his favour. This appointment originated entirely with Mr. Adams; a high encomium upon his deep penetration and discernment of human intellect, a clear demonstration of his moral courage manifested in persevering in his choice although opposed at the threshold by the entire New England delegation. So judicious and felicitous was this selection, that the revered La Fayette remarked, “it was the consequence of providential inspiration.” Be it so; Mr. Adams was the happy medium through which it was communicated to the Continental Congress, thereby placing at the head of the American armies just such a man as the crisis required—prudent, dignified, bold, sagacious, patient, persevering, and universally esteemed by the patriots, and admired even by the most violent adherents of the crown.

After Mr. Adams had accomplished this important act, he remained apparently quiescent during the residue of the session, viewing, analyzing and scanning public feeling and public acts.

In the spring of 1776, he took his seat a third time in the National Assembly. The period had then arrived for more decisive action. Massachusetts had been declared out of the king’s protection by parliament. England had hired legions of soldiers from German princes to subdue the rebels in America, the last note of peace had died upon the voice of echo, every ray of hope in favour of an amicable settlement was banished, and every member became convinced that the dilemma was, resistance or slavery; but there were many who shrunk back with astonishment when independence was named to them.

At this juncture Mr. Adams marked out a bold course and had moral courage to pursue it. On the sixth of May he offered a resolution in Congress proposing that the colonies should organize governments independent of the mother country. On the tenth of the same month its substance was adopted in a modified form, recommending the formation of such government by the colonies “as might be conducive to the happiness and safety of their constituents in particular and America in general.”

This startling measure was at first ably opposed by many of the patriots as premature, admitting its justice, and, but for the weakness of the colonies, its propriety and necessity. But Mr. Adams knew no middle course. He had succeeded in obtaining the adoption of the preface to his broad and expanding folio of an independent compact, and he proceeded to put the main matter to press. He rose like a giant and commenced the mighty work of political regeneration. Each succeeding day brought him new aid. From the legislature of his own state he received full permission to strike for independence. North Carolina had declared first, Virginia followed, and on the seventh of June, Richard Henry Lee became the organ to lay the proposition fairly before Congress. A most animated discussion ensued. Then it was that the powers of Mr. Adams were fully developed. Mr. Jefferson said of him when alluding to his able support of the declaration of independence, “John Adams was the pillar of its support on the floor of Congress; its ablest advocate and defender against the multifarious assaults it encountered. He was our Colossus on the floor; not graceful, not elegant, not always fluent in his public addresses; yet he came out with a power, both of thought and of expression, that moved us from our seats.” Another writer remarks, I think Mr. Trumbull, “The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character. It was bold, manly and energetic, such as the crisis required.” The noblest powers of the soul of John Adams were raised to the zenith of their strength to accomplish the mighty work before him. Although on the committee to prepare the manifesto of eternal separation, he confided its preparation to his colleagues and bent his whole force, eloquence and energy upon the opponents to the measure. Most manfully did he contend, most gloriously did he triumph. He bore down upon his adversaries like a mountain torrent, a sweeping avalanche, prostrating their arguments and answering their objections in a manner that left no trace behind. He hurled the arrows of conviction so thick and fast, that every heart was pierced and a majority subdued. At length the time arrived when the momentous subject must be decided. The fourth of July, 1776, dawned upon the patriots; they assembled, the past, the present and the prospective future rushed upon their minds; moments flew, hearts beat quicker, the question was put, independence was declared, America was free, liberty was honoured, freedom was proclaimed and a nation redeemed.

The following copy of a letter written by Mr. Adams to his wife on the 5th of July, will show the feelings of his mind on that occasion:

“Yesterday the greatest question was decided that was ever debated in America, and greater, perhaps, never was or will be decided among men. A resolution passed without one dissenting colony—‘that these United States are, and of right ought to be, free and independent states.’ The day is passed. The fourth of July, 1776, will be a memorable epoch in the history of America. I am apt to believe it will be celebrated by succeeding generations, as the great anniversary festival. It ought to be commemorated as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to Almighty God. It ought to be solemnized with pomps, shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires and illuminations, from one end of the continent to the other, from this time forward and for ever. You will think me transported with enthusiasm, but I am not. I am well aware of the toil, and blood, and treasure, that it will cost to maintain this declaration and support and defend these states; yet, through all the gloom, I can see the rays of light and glory. I can see that the end is worth more than all the means, and that posterity will triumph, although you and I may rue, which I hope we shall not.”

Early in the winter of 1776, Mr. Adams sketched a form of government to be adopted by each colony, which was substantially the same as the constitutions of the present time. It was in a letter to Richard Henry Lee, by whom it was, by permission, published without a name, and may be considered as the model of the constitutions now in force in the different states. After the form he remarks, “A constitution founded on these principles, introduces knowledge among the people and inspires them with a conscious dignity becoming freemen. A general emulation takes place which causes good humour, sociability, good manners and good morals to be general. That elevation of sentiment inspired by such a government, makes the common people brave and enterprising. That ambition which is inspired by it makes them sober, industrious and frugal. You will find among them some elegance perhaps, but more solidity; a little pleasure but a great deal of business; some politeness but more civility. If you compare such a country with the regions of domination, whether monarchial or aristocratical, you will fancy yourself in Arcadia or Elysium.”