John characterized his life alone in Philadelphia as a “Scæne of Dulness,” and Mary Otis, with whom he boarded in the winter of 1794, indicated to Abigail, “he is more homesick, & times-sick, than bodily indisposed.—” He attended the Senate day after day but had few official responsibilities, and while he socialized with others in government and Philadelphia society, without Abigail, he kept to himself more than he had in the years when she had joined him in the capital. In the winter of 1793–1794, he lived with his friends the Otises; the following year he stayed at a boarding house. Those arrangements left him no convenient place to entertain guests; as a xxii result John turned more of his energy and time to letter writing, especially to Abigail.4

A handful of topics dominated their correspondence over the periods of their separation—the activities of the federal government in Philadelphia, the growing political divisions in the nation, the increasingly unstable situation in Europe, and the local happenings of Quincy, especially as they related to the state of the Adamses’ farms. It was that last subject which most interested John during his time in Philadelphia. Abigail’s agricultural reports provided an important respite for John from the day-to-day tedium of congressional activities. He begged her for information on their farms and sang her praises when she complied. He found a “Diary of Husbandry” she sent “very accurate & pleasing” and noted, “nothing refreshes me like it, in the dull Solitude to which I am destined for four months.” Likewise, he reproached her when no news was forthcoming: “Your last Letter had not one Word of Agriculture in it,” John complained to Abigail on 19 December 1794, never mind that he had received extensive reports from her several times over the previous six weeks.5

Abigail was obviously quite capable of managing the farm herself—she had been doing so, on and off, for twenty years after all—but John still did not hesitate to offer advice. “There is a quantity of manure thrown out of the Ditches of the Coves which I should wish carted or Sledded into the yard,” he wrote one day. On another, “It is nearly time for our Tar Brushes to be brandishing round the Appletrees.” And yet more that same day: “I wish you to buy as many Yearling Calves and two year olds as you can—and Cows to make up the No. 20 reserving two for our own home. I have sent an 100 Wt of Clover seed and twelve Quarts of herds Grass. … The Fences should be put up as early as may be, and the manure carted in season.” His letters reveal that John spent many hours thinking about how best to improve the lands they owned and at least as much time putting those thoughts to paper.6

Responding with good humor, Abigail enjoyed the responsibility though she was also happy to share it: “you will be sick enough of Politicks by next May I fancy to long after your Rocks and Hills, and I shall be sick enough of Hills and Rocks by that time to wish you joy of them.” In the meantime, she took on all the myriad details xxiii of administering their farms, from hiring hands to dosing sick animals to deciding where and when to plant which crops. She also kept John well-informed, often in playful fashion: “our People commencd war—against the canker worm, the 2 day of March,” she commented. “We were the earliest in Town, and we have already slain our thousands.” Later in the year, she submitted a day-by-day diary outlining each step she or her hands had done that week. For example, “october 30. Shaw No 1 & 2 carting Sea weed. Joy getting wood Trask Hayden & Minos the No leged Negro diging potatoes Arnold & Bass spreading sea weed Copland absent. Statson in the Garden—” She occasionally asked for John’s advice but did not hesitate to act without his input when necessary.7

Abigail was also deeply involved in nursing John’s mother, Susanna Boylston Adams Hall, who throughout the spring of 1794 suffered from a long, debilitating bout of pneumonia. At several points the Adamses feared for her life. Abigail wrote to her daughter, Nabby, in early February that Hall “is still in so poor a way that I have very little expectation of her ever going abroad again.” Likewise, she told John, “her strength daily declines . . . . she may continue in this way, for some weeks, and she may sink in less than one.” Even Hall herself felt the end was near, as she instructed Abigail to inform John “that she leaves you her Blessing, that she request your remembrane of her to the Throne of Mercy, that she is hastning to an other and a better Country, where she hopes one day to meet You, but that here she shall never see you more.” John, away in Philadelphia, felt keenly the separation and monitored the situation from a distance. He insisted on being responsible for the expenses of his mother’s illness and instructed Abigail to pay for the funeral to spare his brother Peter any financial burden. Fortunately, that offer proved unnecessary. Hall recovered and lived another three years—just long enough to see her son become president of the United States.8

Caring for friends and neighbors was a regular part of village life, and Abigail did her share well beyond the assistance she provided to her mother-in-law. In the wake of the death of John Shaw, Abigail’s brother-in-law, the Adamses took in Elizabeth and John’s daughter Betsy Quincy Shaw and also helped Elizabeth to make decisions regarding the disposal of property. Various friends, including John, Abigail, and John Quincy, stepped up to help Elizabeth’s son, xxiv William Smith Shaw, afford to continue his education at Harvard, which he had begun just a few weeks prior to his father’s death. Elizabeth expressed her gratitude to Abigail, citing their shared concern for their children: “You who love, & know me, can enter into all my feelings even to those of a Mother, & are sensible with what weight my Children lie upon my heart— Their Education & their welfare is my greatest Concern— I am happy that my Daughter meets with your approbation you cannot think what a comfort it has been to think that you love her— I have trembled for her— It was absolutely necessary she should go from this house—yes, & from one Mother to another.”9

Abigail—and John—were equally occupied with their own children. In January 1794, John Quincy was working as a lawyer in Boston, Charles in New York City, and Thomas Boylston in Philadelphia. Daughter Nabby, William Stephens Smith, and their two children, William Steuben and John Adams Smith—to be joined in January 1795 by a daughter, Caroline Amelia—were also in New York. Each of the three sons was relatively successful in the legal profession, building clientele and establishing himself in his respective city. While less is known of Nabby’s and her family’s activities for this period, the Smiths’ financial difficulties had diminished, and she was apparently content raising her family in New York City. Abigail and John worried about all of them and never hesitated to offer opinions and suggestions. But not all the children were created—or treated—equally. John Quincy remained the favorite and the one on which the Adamses pinned the most hope, though this ambition was sometimes expressed with criticisms designed to curb his faults rather than with praise for his successes. Charles and Thomas Boylston, though clearly well loved, inspired fewer comments and seemingly lesser expectations. As the most settled of the children, the eldest, and a married woman, Nabby received the least amount of advice from her parents.

John Quincy’s published writings provoked different responses from his parents. Abigail alternated between justifiable pride in his accomplishments and concern that he might become too mired in answering his critics: “I would not however advise columbus to enter the list with any one who may throw him the Gauntlet. if the metal is pure Gold, the more it is Rub’d the brighter it will shine. I believe it will stand the ordeal—” She even lobbied her old friend xxv George Cabot, a Massachusetts senator, to try to have them reprinted in Philadelphia, without success, while John—who described them as “a luminous Production”—kept close tabs on their republication in New York City. John and Abigail both recognized the potential dangers for John Quincy of being too successful at such a young age and wanted to make sure that he would keep any sense of superiority in check: “Our son will find the Envy of his Friends, the bitterest Drop in the Cup of Life,” John wrote to Abigail. “He must have a Care however not to give them Advantages by indiscreet Exultations, nor by an unmanly humiliations. Let him take no improper Notice, of what he must see and feel.”10

As for Charles, John worried especially about his son’s health. John considered Charles “fat as a Squab or Duck” and warned him, “I am not without Anxiety on account of your health . . . . there are innumerable Disorders which originate in Fulness, especially in a sendentary and a studious Life. you must rouse yourself from your Lethargy and take your Wallk every Day. When you cannot wallk abroad, wallk in your Room: open your Windows and air your Room as often as you can. … One of the most essential Things for a Lawyer is to study his Constitution and take Care of his Health.—” Both parents also focused their sights on Charles’ continuing romantic interest in Sally Smith, William Stephens Smith’s sister. John suggested to Abigail that Charles be told the story of a distressed Braintree family destroyed by a too-early marriage and insufficient resources: “My Imagination has often painted to me exactly Such a Picture in a Case of our Silly Charles, who was once in a fair Way to have raised as happy a family but who I hope is grown wiser.” Despite these concerns, Charles carried forward with the relationship and eventually married Sally in the summer of 1795.11

Abigail was anxious too over Thomas Boylston’s marital prospects, or rather, that he avoid any such prospects. After relaying gossip “that all the fine Girls in Phyladelphia are marrying off,” she warned him, “You must take care & not get fascinated.” She did not want him to come home with a European wife, a concern she might better have directed at her eldest son. John and Abigail also cautioned Thomas against “that mighty Novelty Europe.” John wrote to him, “Let me tell you a Secret Tom.— It will either make or mar you. If you prove Superiour to its Blandishments Seductions and false xxvi Charms, it will make a Man of you.—” Of course, John wanted Thomas to learn from his time abroad, to study and read and improve himself to come back better educated and better prepared for a productive life. As the youngest, Thomas received the most gentle guidance—far greater tolerance for his foibles, more understanding for the detours in his career—but also faced the lowest expectations.12

In the end, Abigail summarized her feelings about her children in particularly telling fashion: “I will not say that all my Geese are swan I hope however that I have no occasion to Blush for the conduct of any of my Children. perhaps I build more expectation upon the rising Fame and Reputation of one of them, than of an other, but where much is given, much shall be required. I know their virtues and I am not blind to their failings—let him who is without cast the first stone.”13

But John could not ignore public matters for long. Too much was happening throughout the United States, and although circumstances forced him to be more observer than participant, they did not prevent him from commenting at length and sharing his opinions far and wide. He continued to serve faithfully in the Senate, presiding over sessions there even as he was prevented from speaking during debates or casting votes (except for occasionally breaking a tie). But his regular attendance gave him significant insight into governmental discussions and insured he was well-informed about the myriad political issues under consideration. Similarly, Abigail remained an avid reader of newspapers and kept herself up-to-date on political events, especially as they might affect either her family or her home state of Massachusetts.

In general, John found Congress weak and ineffective, too divided to take strong action. It particularly rankled that he was not in a position to force progress. As he commented to Abigail in early 1794, “Congress have been together, more than two Months and have done nothing, and will continue Sitting two Months longer, and do little. I for my part am wearied to death with Ennui— Obliged to be punctual by my habits, confined to my Seat, as in a Prison to see xxvii nothing done, hear nothing Said, and to Say and do nothing.” The following winter, he saw the situation in marginally more benign terms: “This Session of Congress is the most innocent I ever knew.— We have done no harm.” But a week later he told Abigail, “The Business of Congress this session is Dulness Flatness and Insipidity itself.” Only the special session in June 1795 to debate the Jay Treaty really engaged John—and then he was barred from commenting on it to Abigail by the code of secrecy placed around the discussions and also from any possibility of casting a tie-breaking vote by the requirement that it receive approval with a two-thirds majority.14

Political divisions in the new republic had substantially cemented themselves by this time, and John and Abigail had firmly chosen sides—though they were reluctant to describe themselves as Federalists, since they saw themselves as patriots, above mere party politics. Still, John and Abigail spent far less time deploring factionalism than they had in previous years; instead, they turned their pens to deploring Democratic-Republicans. Thus, when it came to discussions of the volatile French minister Edmond Genet, John was especially disgusted by the close relationship between Genet and the political opposition. He argued, “This party has misled him, and filled his head with prejudices against the President and his Ministers. … In all my own negotiations abroad for ten years, in three different nations, I made it a constant rule, never to make myself subservient to the friends of any party. … Had Mr. G. relied on his cause and his honour, without seeking aid from party passions, he would have had more friends and fewer enemies.” Even old friend Thomas Jefferson did not escape John’s wrath for his political allegiances. Upon Jefferson’s retirement, John noted, “Jefferson went off Yesterday, and a good riddance of bad ware. I hope his Temper will be more cool and his Principles more reasonable in Retirement than they have been in office. … He has Talents I know, and Integrity I believe: but his mind is now poisond with Passion Prejudice and Faction.” John had little patience for those who had chosen what he believed to be the wrong side of the political debate.15

The United States continued to wrestle with its relations with the two major foreign powers, France and Great Britain. The bloodshed of the French Revolution horrified John; after learning in early 1794 of the execution of Marie Antoinette, he asked, “When will Savages be Satiated with Blood.?” Abigail, too, spoke of “the horrids Scenes” xxviii in France “that deluge her with carnage, havock, and Blood.” But the British, in turn, were threatening American commerce, blocking trade with the West Indies, and seizing American ships, not to mention continuing to operate forts and trading posts on American soil that they had promised to give up in the 1783 Treaty of Paris. Both John and Abigail hoped for America’s continued neutrality. Abigail felt the best resolution would be an end to the war and the opportunity for France to make its own government, “to form whatever constitution they choose; and whether it is republican or monarchical is not of any consequence to us, provided it is a regular government of some form or other, which may secure the faith of treaties, and due subordination to the laws.” But she also recognized the “General Gloom and distress amongst the mercantile people” caused by British actions. John argued that making common cause with the French could be worse than war, but he rightly guessed that the American people would be unwilling to endure “another whole Year, the detention of the Posts and the depredations in their Trade.”16

George Washington responded to these tensions by sending a new envoy, John Jay, overseas to attempt once again to negotiate a commercial treaty with Great Britain. John Adams strongly supported the move: “may the gentle Zephers waft him to his Destination and the Blessing of Heaven succeed his virtuous Endeavours to preserve Peace.—” He felt reassured enough that Washington’s actions would resolve the situation and put an end to debate over it in Congress that he wrote to Abigail, “I am So well Satisfied with this measure that I shall run the venture to ask leave to go home, if Congress determines to sitt beyond the middle of May.” Never one to leave Congress in the middle of a fight, John’s declaration speaks volumes to the confidence he had in this new policy. Jay left for England in May 1794 and spent the next several months painstakingly negotiating an agreement that became known as the Jay Treaty. The treaty, which arrived in the United States in spring 1795, received senatorial consent in June 1795 after deliberations John described as “temperate, grave, decent, and wise, … and the Results judicious.” While its terms were sharply divisive and the debate over it contentious, it nonetheless served to improve Anglo-American relations for the next several years.17

Relations with European nations were hardly the only points of concern, however, for the country or the Adamses. John reported on the debates over the opening up of the Senate chamber to the public; the disputed seating of Albert Gallatin in the Senate; the arrival of the new French minister, Jean Antoine Joseph Fauchet, sent to replace the troublesome Genet; the threatening behavior of the Barbary States in the Mediterranean; elections in other states; the rebellion in western Pennsylvania over excise taxes; and the conflict with Native Americans in the Ohio valley. Abigail followed the Massachusetts elections closely, especially for Congress and governor, and monitored the Boston town meetings (sometimes via reports from John Quincy, who often attended). She reported on the activities of the Boston democratic clubs; the visit of King George III’s son, Prince Edward, to America; and the frequently political Thanksgiving day sermons. All of these issues—and many others— provided John and Abigail with ample material for correspondence, which often reflected on the tumult of the period. As Abigail aptly noted, “This Whirligig of a World, tis difficult to keep steady in it.”18

The single most important event for the Adams family in 1794 was John Quincy Adams’ appointment as the new U.S. minister resident to the Netherlands. Earlier in the year, rumors had circulated in Philadelphia of other possible appointments for John Quincy, including U.S. attorney for the district of Massachusetts. Instead, on 26 May 1794 John learned from Secretary of State Edmund Randolph that George Washington had nominated John Quincy to the Dutch post. John was deeply pleased by this honor for his son as well as excited for the opportunity to guide him in a role John himself had once held. He advised John Quincy to take the position and immediately began writing to him with lists of the things he needed to learn to fulfill the post successfully; as John Quincy observed, “He is more gratified than myself at my appointment.”19

John Quincy was somewhat more ambivalent about the opportunity. He had worked hard over the previous years to build up his legal career and had also begun to make a name for himself in Boston xxx politics. During the winter of 1793–1794, he distinguished himself with two series of newspaper articles, signed Columbus and Barneveld, respectively, that debated the behavior of the French consul in Boston and, more important, that of the French minister to the United States, Edmond Genet. Both series were well received, as John Quincy himself reported with a tinge of false modesty: “The public here, have been sufficiently favourable to Columbus: the applause which from many different quarters has been bestowed upon his Letters, in private conversations has been so much superior to their merits, that I dare not repeat the observations which have been reported to me, lest you should suspect the author of Vanity beyond the limits of common extravagance.” While he certainly planned at some point to enter into public life, he was not necessarily expecting to receive the call so soon. Ironically, on the same day that John sent him news of the appointment, he wrote to his father, “I think I have every day less ambition than the former, to pursue a political career. … I find myself contented with my state as it is.” He further noted in his Diary, “I wish I could have been consulted before it was irrevocably made. I rather wish it had not been made at-all.”20

Nevertheless, John Quincy was at heart an Adams. Upon learning of the appointment, he made the only choice he could: he would put aside his own preferences and serve at the behest of the nation. He promptly set off for Philadelphia where he spent several weeks reviewing the dispatches of previous ministers—including those of his own father—and learning what was expected of him. To his disappointment, the only major work assigned to him would be to superintend the loans from the Dutch upon which the United States still depended. Accordingly, he determined that he would remain no more than three years. “If the business of an American Minister there should continue to be the mere agency of a broker,” he wrote to his father, “and my office be of no benefit but to me, I shall feel myself under an obligation to return home; and resume my profession or any other employment in private life, that shall afford me an honourable support.”21

The appointment provided benefits for another member of the family, Thomas Boylston, whom John Quincy invited to accompany him as his private secretary. Initially, the Adamses had toyed with xxxi the idea of Thomas Boylston’s moving to Boston to take over John Quincy’s law office. John had concerns over Thomas’ ability to succeed in Philadelphia and worried about his son’s work ethic: “he makes too many Visits in Families where there are young Ladies. Time is Spent and nothing learn’d.” Thomas Boylston, however, disliked that plan. If he was to continue in the law, he would prefer to do so in Philadelphia: “Here I have already made a begining in the Profession—in Boston I am unknown,” he wrote to his father. “Here I have qualifyed myself in some degree for the Practice in this state—In Massachusetts I should have to learn the first rudiments—” But a chance to visit Europe was a different matter and a much more appealing prospect, especially as he was the only member of the family yet to have gone abroad. John Quincy reported to his father that Thomas “does not consider this as offering any thing permanent to him … but as a decent support for a short period of Time, an opportunity of seeing part of Europe, and perhaps of making some improvements which would not be so easily attainable at home.”22

John Quincy and Thomas Boylston sailed together for Europe on 17 September, arriving first in London on 15 October and then a few weeks later continuing on to the continent. Notwithstanding John Quincy’s rather low expectations for the significance of his new office, this move put him and Thomas right in the center of the general war then waging in Europe. Their father had wisely observed that “the Post at the Hague is an important Diplomatick Station, which may afford many opportunities of acquiring political Information and of penetrating the Designs of many Cabinets in Europe.” Indeed, as John Quincy reported to his sister, they arrived “at a very critical and dangerous period for this Country. … The french armies are advancing rapidly into the Heart of the Country. The nation internally is divided into parties extremely inveterate against each other.” While they had no fears for their personal safety—as neutrals they were protected, and even among the Dutch citizens “the dread of conquest is very much abated” they assured their concerned family back home—they had a front-row view of the turmoil.23

For the remainder of the period covered in this volume, the two men stayed in the Netherlands, conducting their diplomatic efforts xxxii despite the French invasion and the Dutch revolution that inaugurated the new Batavian Republic. They found time to attend numerous book sales (much like his father, John Quincy was beginning to amass a significant private library), and Thomas Boylston attempted to master both French and German. They went sightseeing in Leyden and Amsterdam and engaged in the usual rounds of social visits and dinners out. But most of all they tried to keep up with political events and their ministerial responsibilities. As John Quincy reported to brother Charles, “Our time has not hung heavy upon our hands— The magnitude of events following one another in such rapid Succession around us—the novelty and importance of the political scenes of which we were witnesses, together with the attention to our own concerns, and the use of some valuable books, served as a full employment for our time, and if we had not been almost entirely deprived of communication from our friends, we should have had no reason to complain of tediousness.”24

Furthermore, if John Quincy’s letterbooks are any guide, he kept Thomas Boylston hard at work as his secretary. As soon as he received his appointment, John Quincy began keeping letterbooks— much as his father had—to record both his personal and professional correspondence, a decision that has left modern scholars with a rich manuscript record. For the period of this volume, he used three separate books, numbered 2 through 4, filmed at reels 126, 127, and 128, respectively, of the Adams Papers microfilm. Two of these, Letterbooks 2 and 4, are designated “Private,” while Letterbook 3, marked “Public,” contains his official correspondence as minister. John Quincy continued this separation of letters, with a few exceptions, throughout his career, though his designations of private and public sometimes blurred. All but two of the letters in these three books are in Thomas Boylston’s hand (including letters John Quincy wrote to Thomas Boylston himself before their departure for Europe), with occasional corrections or emendations by John Quincy. Only his private letters to family have been considered for inclusion in this and future volumes of the Adams Family Correspondence; his remaining private letters and all public material will be published in The Papers of John Quincy Adams, where his public letterbooks will be discussed in greater detail.

Letterbook 2 is titled, in Thomas Boylston’s hand, “Private Letter xxxiii Book. / July 18— 1794.,” while John Quincy added above that, “From 18. July 1794. / to / 8. Feby: 1795.” The first two pages, unnumbered and in John Quincy’s hand, contain his letter to Edmund Randolph of 14 June 1794 accepting the ministerial appointment and a copy of George Washington’s commission to John Quincy of 30 May. Following that are 164 numbered pages with 77 letters to family, friends, and other acquaintances with whom he conducted private business. The final three pages supply an index by recipient with the date of each letter and the location from which it was written.

John Quincy’s Letterbook 4 carries on his private correspondence. Similar to the previous volume, it is entitled “Private Letters” in Thomas Boylston’s hand, with John Quincy noting at the top of the title page, “From 9. Feby: 1795 / to / 16. Feby: 1797.” This 428-page volume contains 216 letters, of which 59 cover the period to the end of June 1795. An index was started for the back of the volume but never completed.

For a complete statement of Adams Papers editorial policy as revised in 2007, see Adams Family Correspondence, 8:xxxv-xliii. Readers may also wish to consult the descriptions of the editorial standards established at the beginning of the project in Diary and Autobiography of John Adams, 1:lii–lxii, and Adams Family Correspondence, 1:xli–xlviii. These statements document the original conception of the Adams Papers project, though significant parts of them have now been superseded.

The only major addition to the 2007 policy regards the selection for publication in the Adams Family Correspondence series of John Quincy Adams’ letters from his diplomatic posts to his father. In general, we will include those letters only when they focus substantially on family matters. If their content revolves largely or entirely around diplomatic and political affairs, they will be reserved for consideration and likely inclusion in The Papers of John Adams or The Papers of John Quincy Adams. John Quincy’s letters to other family members—especially Abigail, to whom he often wrote at the same time as he did to his father—will continue to be published routinely in the Family Correspondence books.

The Massachusetts Historical Society continues to support the work of making Adams family materials available online to scholars and the public at its website, www.masshist.org. Three digital resources in particular complement the Adams Family Correspondence volumes: The Adams Family Papers: An Electronic Archive, The Diaries of John Quincy Adams: A Digital Collection, and the Adams Papers Digital Edition.

The Adams Family Papers Electronic Archive contains images and text files of all of the correspondence between John and Abigail Adams owned by the Massachusetts Historical Society as well as John Adams’ Diaries and Autobiography. The files are text searchable and can be browsed by date. See www.masshist.org/digitaladams.

The Diaries of John Quincy Adams Digital Collection provides digital images of John Quincy Adams’ entire 51-volume Diary, which he composed over nearly seventy years. The images can be searched by date or browsed by volume. See www.masshist.org/jqadiaries.

The Adams Papers Digital Edition, a project cosponsored by the National Endowment for the Humanities, Harvard University Press, and the Massachusetts Historical Society, provides searchable text files of the 38 Adams Papers volumes published prior to 2007 (excluding the Portraits volumes), supplemented by a cumulative index prepared by the Adams Papers editors. This digital edition is designed not to replace the letterpress edition but rather to complement it by providing greater access to a wealth of Adams material.

Readers may wish to supplement the letters included in volume 10 of the Adams Family Correspondence with material from the same time period included in John Quincy Adams’ Diary, available online (as described above), and in the letters of John Adams and John Quincy Adams published, respectively, in The Life and Works of John Adams, edited by Charles Francis Adams, 8:515–517, and Writings of John Quincy Adams, edited by Worthington Chauncey Ford, 1:176–381. Another important resource is the unpublished Diary Thomas Boylston Adams kept while in Europe, available on the Adams Papers microfilm. Future volumes of the Papers of John Adams will greatly expand on John’s public activities during these years.

As with previous Family Correspondence volumes, the letters printed here do more than shed light on the activities of a single family—albeit an especially important one—at a critical period in xxxv American and European history. Rather, the correspondence provides an important snapshot of eighteenth-century life, illuminating a vast range of topics from how best to protect fruit trees from caterpillars to the popular response to Marie Antoinette’s death, from the dangers of thieves in England to the call for militia troops in response to the Whiskey Rebellion. Writing to their closest relations, the Adamses hold nothing back, sharing frank opinions and tart observations, vivid imagery and heartfelt concerns, “full of Entertainment and Instruction.”25 As both participants in and commentators on American society of the 1790s, the Adams family has no equal.