In this state of things my poor, unprotected, unpatronized books appeared; and met with a fate not quite so cruel as I had anticipated. They were at last, however, overborne by misrepresentations, and will perish in obscurity, though they have been translated into German as well as French. The three emperors of Europe, the Prince Regents, and all the ruling powers, would no more countenance or tolerate such writings, than the Pope, the emperor of Haiti, Ben Austin, or Tom Paine. The nations of Europe appeared to me, when I was among them, from the beginning of 1778, to 1785, _i. e._ to the commencement of the troubles in France, to be advancing by slow but sure steps towards an amelioration of the condition of man in religion and government, in liberty, equality, fraternity, knowledge, civilization and humanity. The French revolution I dreaded, because I was sure it would not only arrest the progress of improvement, but give it a retrograde course, for at least a century, if not many centuries. The French patriots appeared to me like young scholars from a college, or sailors flushed with recent pay or prize money, mounted on wild horses, lashing and spurring till they would kill the horses, and break their own necks. Let me now ask you very seriously, my friend, where are now, in 1813, the perfection and the perfectability of human nature? Where is now the progress of the human mind? Where is the amelioration of society? Where the augmentations of human comforts? Where the diminutions of human pains and miseries? I know not whether the last day of Dr. Young can exhibit to a mind unstaid by philosophy and religion [for I hold there can be no philosophy without religion], more terrors than the present state of the world. When, where, and how is the present chaos to be arranged into order? There is not, there cannot be, a greater abuse of words than to call the writings of Calender, Paine, Austin and Lowell, or the speeches of Ned Livingston and John Randolph, public discussions. The ravings and rantings of Bedlam merit the character as well; and yet Joel Barlow was about to record Tom Paine as the great author of the American Revolution! If he was, I desire that my name may be blotted out forever from its records. You and I ought not to die before we have explained ourselves to each other. I shall come to the subject of religion by-and-bye. Your friend. I have been looking for some time for a space in my good husband's letters to add the regards of an old friend, which are still cherished and preserved through all the changes and vicissitudes which have taken place since we first became acquainted, and will, I trust, remain as long as A. ADAMS. JOHN ADAMS TO THOMAS JEFFERSON. QUINCY, July 16, 1813.