"I hope," he writes, "a good account will be given of Gage, Haldiman,
Burgoyne, Clinton, and Howe, before winter. Such a wretch as Howe, with
a statue in honor of his family in Westminster Abbey, erected by the
Massachusetts, to come over with the design to cut the throats of the
Massachusetts people, is too much. I most sincerely, coolly, and
devoutly wish that a lucky ball or bayonet may make a signal example of
him, in warning to all such unprincipled, unsentimental miscreants for
the future!"

He goes on in a strain that smacks somewhat of aristocratic feeling:
"Our camp will be an illustrious school of military virtue, and will be
resorted to and frequented, as such, by gentlemen in great numbers from
the other colonies." The term "gentleman" has seldom been used in this
sense subsequently to the Revolution. Another letter introduces us to
two of these gentlemen, Messrs. Acquilla Hall and Josias Carvill,
volunteers, who are recommended as "of the first families in Maryland,
and possessing independent fortunes."

After the British had been driven out of Boston, Adams cries out,
"Fortify, fortify; and never let them get in again!" It is agreeable
enough to perceive the filial affection with which John Adams, and the
other delegates from the North, regard New England, and especially the
good old capital of the Puritans. Their love of country was hardly yet
so diluted as to extend over the whole thirteen colonies, which were
rather looked upon as allies than as composing one nation. In truth,
the patriotism of a citizen of the United States is a sentiment by
itself of a peculiar nature, and requiring a lifetime, or at least the
custom of many years, to naturalize it among the other possessions of
the heart.