Is the second sentence of the Declaration of Independence the greatest sentence ever written?
That’s the contention of historian Walter Isaacson in his slim new book, The Greatest Sentence Ever Written. As a refresher:
We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.
“[E]ach of its words and concepts bears scrutiny and appreciation,” Isaacson says, and then goes about in short chapter-length essays to do just that.[1]
Or almost so. His execution doesn’t go off with quite that kind of exactness. For instance, “hold” doesn’t get any particular attention. The verbs is always the most important word in a sentence because it’s the engine that drives the action. One could spend a little time on “hold” and its specific meaning and the perils inherent in it (anything held can be dropped!). Isaacson may or may not have missed opportunities by skipping some of the words that he apparently deemed unimportant.
But where he does parse out parts of the sentence, he shines. He explores the common ground of “We,” what made “truths” “self-evident,” and the restrictiveness behind the seemingly inclusive “all men.” What is “equality” in the context of the rest of the sentence? What did the Founders mean by any of these things?
For weeks, colleagues in the Continental Congress had been asking John Adams for advice. If the colonies were to break away from Great Britain and established governments of their own, what should those governments look like?
The first request came from North Carolinians William Hooper and John Penn in late March. The duo had been recalled from Philadelphia so they could join in conversations about a new government for their home state. Before departing, they each asked Adams for his thoughts. Adams “wrote with his own Hand, a Sketch,” and gave copies to both delegates.[1] The ensuing discussions in North Carolina led to the April 12, 1776 passage of the Halifax Resolves, which authorized the colony’s Congressional delegation to vote in favor of independence—the first colony to formally grant such authorization.
Next came a request from George Wythe of Virginia and then one from John Dickinson Sergeant of New Jersey. Finally, Richard Henry Lee of Virginia asked for a copy.
Adams had already given the topic considerable thought. He had touched on it in early 1775 in a series of newspaper articles that he’d signed “Novanglus,” and during a trip home in late 1775, he had addressed it for the Massachusetts colonial assembly. “The Happiness of the People is the sole End of Government, so the Consent of the People is the only Foundation of it,” he had written.[2] “Happiness,” in Adams’s vocabulary, meant “ease, comfort, security.”[3]
As Adams sketched out his ideas for his colleagues, he took the same approach, and each letter allowed him to develop and refine his ideas even further. By the time he wrote out his thoughts for Wythe, those ideas had become so clear and well articulated that the impressed Lee asked if he could have the letter published. Adams agreed. Using Wythe’s letter as the basis, Lee threw it into shape and “put it under the Types.”[4]
ST. BONAVENTURE, N.Y., April 22, 2026 — As America looks ahead to the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence this summer, St. Bonaventure University invites the public and campus community to come together to discuss what “independence” means.
Since mid-March, St. Bonaventure’s “America’s 250 Series” has explored various facets of the American Revolution. To conclude the series, university historians will gather for a final panel discussion and open Q&A with the audience.
The program, “The Revolution Today,” will be held at 7 p.m. Monday, April 27, in Walsh Auditorium. The event is free and open to the public, and light refreshments will be served.
Discussion topics will include:
What themes have emerged from our series?
What questions have the Founders raised for us?
What does the American Revolution mean to us today?
What is our own role in remembering America’s 250th birthday?
The university’s “America’s 250 Series” is sponsored by the History Department, the Jandoli School of Communication, and Emerging Revolutionary War.
Join Emerging Revolutionary War LIVE on Monday evening, April 13 for a discussion about “Winning the War.”
Why was American victory in the Revolution so remarkable? It seems inevitable to us now, but at the time and on the battlefields, victory seemed anything but assured. How did America overcome the odds, particularly after several decisive defeats? Historians from Emerging Revolutionary War (ERW) will examine key military moments that kept the dream of independence alive.
We’ve been helping St. Bonaventure University commemorate the 250th Anniversary of the American Revolution this semester with a series of Monday-evening programs. On April 13 at 7:00 p.m. ERW historians will Zoom in for a panel discussion as part of the series. You can watch at https://sbu.zoom.us/j/98224552407 or on the ERW Facebook page.
Panelist include:
Phill Greenwalt, author of The Winter that Won the War: The Winter Encampment at Valley Forge, co-author of A Single Blow: The Battles of Lexington and Concord, and co-author of the forthcoming A Hard-Bought Victory: The Battle of Bunker Hill
Mark Maloy, author of Victory or Death: The Battles of Trenton and Princeton, To the Last Extremity: The Battles for Charleston, and a forthcoming book on the battles for New York City
Rob Orrison, co-author of All That Can Be Expected: The Battle of Camden and A Single Blow: The Battles of Lexington and Concord
Greenwalt and Maloy are both historians with the National Park Service, and Orrison serves as ERW’s chief historian.
ECW’s Chris Mackowski, who teaches at St. Bonaventure, will moderate the discussion. For people on campus or in the community around St. Bonaventure, the program will be available—with refreshments!—in 201 Plassmann Hall.
The program will be simulcast on the ERW Facebook page and on the blog of St. Bonaventure University’s History Department.
The United States Postal Service has issued a new postage stamp honoring Phillis Wheatley, a Revolution-era poet who was the first author of African descent in the American Colonies to publish a book.
Unveiled at the Old South Meeting House in Boston on Thursday, Jan. 29, 2026, the Wheatley stamps was the 49th stamp in the Black Heritage series.
For more on Wheatley, I reached out the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum. Cathryn Philippe is a living historian at the museum who portrays Wheatley—who, as it turned out, had an interesting connection to the Boston Tea Party. Cathryn was kind enough to spend some time chatting with me about Wheatley’s story:
(I first met Cathryn several years ago, while doing a virtual field trip in Boston for the American Battlefield Trust. I had the chance to visit the Boston Tea Party Ships and Museum and see Cathryn’s portrayal for myself. Take a look here.)
For more on the Phillis Wheatley stamp, we quote part of the Postal Service’s press release:
Abigail Adams was only 32 years old when she encouraged her h (NY Public Library)
“Remember the ladies.” Of all the words Abigail Adams wrote to her husband John over a correspondence than spanned 1,160 letters and nearly 40 years, those three stand as the most famous. They come from a letter written on March 31, 1776—250 years ago today.
At the time, events in the colonies were moving at a quickening pace. Common Sense in January 1776 had not only leveraged a major public shift toward American independence, it also sparked debate about what might come after. Sentiment in the Continental Congress lagged public opinion, despite John’s best efforts to spur that sentiment along, but conversation still bubbled among the delegates about that possible future.
It was in this context that Abigail, as astute a politician as any Congressional delegate, wrote to her husband. If independence loomed, and America had the chance to jump-start a new system of its own, then why not take advantage of the winds of change and establish independence not only from Great Britian but from the old social order altogether.
[I]n the new Code of Laws which I suppose it will be necessary for you to make I desire you would Remember the Ladies, and be more generous and favourable to them than your ancestors. Do not put such unlimited power into the hands of the Husbands. Remember all Men would be tyrants if they could. If perticuliar care and attention is not paid to the Laidies we are determined to foment a Rebelion, and will not hold ourselves bound by any Laws in which we have no voice, or Representation.
That your Sex are Naturally Tyrannical is a Truth so thoroughly established as to admit of no dispute, but such of you as wish to be happy willingly give up the harsh title of Master for the more tender and endearing one of Friend. Why then, not put it out of the power of the vicious and the Lawless to use us with cruelty and indignity with impunity. Men of Sense in all Ages abhor those customs which treat us only as the vassals of your Sex. Regard us then as Beings placed by providence under your protection and in immitation of the Supreem Being, make use of that power only for our happiness.[1]
Clockwise from top left: Chris Mackowski, Christopher Dalton, Steven Pitt, and Philip Payne
To help celebrate America’s 250th birthday this year, St. Bonaventure University’s History Department will present a series of public programs through March and April—and Emerging Revolutionary War is taking part. From John Adams and Revolutionary-era Boston to George Washington’s long shadow, presenters will invite audiences to reconsider how we remember the Revolution today. And all programs will be available to watch live on Zoom and later on YouTube.
“July Fourth this year will mark 250 years since the Declaration of Independence was finalized,” says Dr. Phillip Payne, chair of the history department. “We wanted to invite members of the community to join us in commemorating that event. It’s a question we can all think about: what does the American Founding mean to us today?”
The programs, which are free and open to the public, will each begin at 7:00 p.m. Light refreshments will be served. The programs will also be available to watch via Zoom; for Zoom links, visit the history department’s blog, https://bonashistorydept.blogspot.com/.
Today, a stone cairn marks the spot atop Penn’s Hill where Abigail watched events unfold in Boston. (Chris Mackowski)
On Saturday, March 2, 1776, Abigail Adams began a letter to husband, John, then serving in the Second Continental Congress in Philadelphia. It took her more than a week to finish it. “You see in what purtubation it has been written and how many times I have left of,” she said by way of apology at the end.
The source of her “purturbation”? The long-running siege of Boston had taken a surprising—and ultimately decisive—turn.
Henry Knox’s “Noble Train” of artillery, salvaged from Fort Ticonderoga and dragged across the winter landscape, offered a sudden game-changer. Initial artillery emplacements opened fire on the night of March 2, but the decisive blow came on March 4 when American forces took possession of Dorchester Heights on the south side of Boston and adorned the hilltop with cannon.
The Adams farm in nearby Quincy sat at the base of another prominence known as Penn’s Hill. From that vantage point, Abigail had watched the battle of Bunker’s Hill the previous June. She returned to that perch to watch the March cannonading.
The latest volume in the Emerging Revolutionary War Series is now available: Atlas of Independence: John Adams and the American Revolution. Publisher Savas Beatie is now offering exclusive signed copies available for pre-order. (Details here!)
As it happens, the publication of Atlas has origins deeply entwined with the origins of the Emerging Revolutionary War Series itself. One could easily argue that there would be no United States of America without John Adams; one could also argue there might not be an Emerging Civil War Series if not for Adams, either.
ERW started as “Rev War Wednesdays” on our sister blog, Emerging Civil War. Then we started up the ERW blog. Soon, co-founders Rob Orrison and Phill Greenwalt wanted to launch a book series similar to the Emerging Revolutionary War Series. The books would provide read-friendly overviews of important stories from the Revolutionary War era, with a focus on battles and leaders.
But how to start?
Rob and Phill approached me with the idea. I thought it was great. But at the time, I was underwater with projects (and, I guess, I still am!). I couldn’t take a direct hand in launching the series, but I did tell them I’d be glad to act in an advisory capacity…on one condition.
If we launched an Emerging Revolutionary War Series, I wanted to write a book about John Adams for the series.
I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to do it, but I wanted to plant my flag and stake my claim.
I’ve had a man-crush on Adams since first reading Joseph Ellis’s Pulitzer Prize-winning Founding Brothers, published in 2000. Ellis had a great fondness for Adams, which he readily admitted. It came across clearly in the book, and I found it infectious. Hooked by the bug, I turned to Ellis’s Passionate Sage: The Character and Legacy of John Adams, which painted a fascinating portrait of the lion in winter.
In 2001, David McCullough’s John Adams biography appeared. It, too, won the Pulitzer Prize. For Adams’s legacy, the book was a game-changer. It transcended history circles to become a cultural phenomenon all its own. It was an “It” book. It became a heady time to be an Adams fan.
My Adams journey led me through all sorts of readings and site visits. I got to know and love the Adams family. I grew to know and respect (but also bear a bit of a grudge toward) Adams’s opposite pole in the Revolution, Thomas Jefferson. I read letters and diaries and other primary sources. I became deeply steeped in the politics of the Independence movement. Most people know me as a Civil War writer, but this has been my other area of historical interest, my secret fascination.
Rob and Phill agreed to my one condition, and so we set out to start the new book series. Hannah Gordon, a former student of mine, came on as initial editor. Rob and Phill wrote about Lexington and Concord. The book series was underway!
It took my a while to get started on my Adams book, though. I have too many ideas for writing projects and not enough time. Not until 2021 did I get the decks cleared enough to start working on the book, but it proceeded in fits and starts as other projects and other ECW and ERW demands jockeyed for my time.
As a result, it took me almost exactly four years to write Atlas of Independence. (For me, that’s an incredibly long amount of time to write 50,000 words!) During that time, even as I worked on other projects, I kept reading John and Abigail’s correspondence with each other and with other people, familiarizing and re-familiarizing myself with the sources. It felt like extra time with treasured friends. The book and I are both better off for it.
I tried to present a fair and balanced account of Adams’s life during the Revolution, although, like Ellis, my fondness for Adams is apparent. I made sure to avoid the sort of hagiography Adams himself detested, though. History, he believed, should not fall victim to the weakness of romance, even if that’s the way people preferred to remember their history.
With the 250th anniversary of American Independence creeping up on me, I knew I had to get the book over the finish line. Adams was central to that story, and I did not want to miss the chance to tout his role. I buckled down last year and finished the manuscript, and the staff at Savas Beatie generously worked with me to get the book to press in time for the dawn of the anniversary year.
And so now here we are. Two hundred and fifty years ago, Adams was discovering the newly published pamphlet Common Sense; today, we get to discover the newly published Atlas of Independence.
I hope you find John Adams to be excellent company. I certain have!
Signed copies of Atlas of Independence are available for pre-order from Savas Beatie for $16.95 plus shipping. Orders 1–100 will be personally signed; orders 101+ will come with an autographed book plate. Click here for details and to order your copy.
It’s hard to overemphasize how important Common Sense was as a tool of persuasion.
Sure, we all know about it. “The idea that Common Sense played a pivotal role in moving the nascent revolutionary movement toward independence is universally acknowledged today,” says historian Jett B. Conner.[1]
Yet I’ve found that, beyond its generally accepted place in American history, most people don’t quite “get” Common Sense. Reading the document today—like anything written 250 years ago—poses a challenge for modern readers. The language doesn’t catch for us the way it did for readers of its time. We aren’t living in the same political context they were. We marinade in a much different, much more immersive media environment. These factors all remove us from the visceral impact Common Sense had.
In the early days of my teaching career, I taught public relations classes. I had been a PR professional prior to that, enticed to the academy, but I wanted my classes to be grounded in the professional standards established by the Public Relations Society of America (PRSA). They had criteria for academic programs that wanted PRSA certification. My university didn’t qualify because we didn’t have a specific major in PR at the time, but I nonetheless used their standards as the model for my classes. One of the standards at the time advocated teaching the history of PR.
Several PR milestones sprang from the political arena: Andrew Jackson’s first use of a press secretary in the White House; Teddy Roosevelt’s bully pulpit; the WWI-era Creel Commission; FDR’s fireside chats; the WWII-era Office of War Information, etc.
Common Sense made the list as the most significant piece of American writing to that point—a track specifically aimed at public persuasion. And boy, did it succeed! “Common Sense was the most radical and important pamphlet written in the American Revolution and one of the most brilliant ever written in the English language,” assesses historian Gordon Wood.[2]
Prior to Common Sense’s publication in January 1776, John Dickinson’s Letters from a Farmer in Pennsylvania in 1767–8 held the record as the most influential piece of public writing. Published in 19 of the 23 major newspapers in the colonies—as well as appearing in England and France—the letters opposed Parliament’s Townsend Acts, which imposed tariffs. Dickinson, a lawyer rather than a farmer, became one of the most famous men in America because of his twelve letters, which did much to unify the colonies in common cause against British taxation.
“Farmer’s Letters captured the spirit of the moment and Americans’ imaginations like nothing before,” says Dickinson biographer Jane E. Calvertt, “selling more copies than any other pamphlet to date. The response was immediate and resounding, going far beyond anything Dickinson could have anticipated.”[3]
Thomas Paine’s Common Sense eclipsed Dickinson exponentially—some 100 times larger, according to historian John Ferling.[4]
Timing helped. Bloodshed on Lexington Green, at the North Bridge in Concord, and all along the road back to Boston added urgency to public discussions. Closure of the port of Boston and the October firebombing of Falmouth, Maine—and the foreboding message it suggested to other colonies—heightened tensions even more. England was no longer some abstract entity across the ocean, but an intrusive force ready to impose its will through violence if necessary. “It was successful because it came precisely the time when people were ready for its message,” says historian Alfred F. Young.[5]
“The suppressed rage that animated Paine’s writing in Common Sense was another important factor in its success,” contends historian Scott Liell, who said “Paine felt, and made his readers feel, ‘wounds of deadly hate.’”[6]
Through 1775, the Continental Congress remained undecided on a course of action, with factions pushing for independence and others pushing for rapprochement. Therefore, news from Philadelphia did little to provide clear guidance for public sentiment.
“[T]he idea of independence was familiar, even among the common people,” John Adams later pointed out.[7] The idea just hadn’t yet crystallized.
Common Sense—first published on January 10, 1776, as a 46-page pamphlet—became that crystal.
“[T]here is something absurd, in supposing a continent to be perpetually governed by an island,” Paine wrote. Paine made such sentiments seem like statements of the obvious. Of course a continent shouldn’t be ruled by an island. Of course one honest man was worth more to society and in the sight of God than all the crowned ruffians that ever lived. Of course.
That was the genius of Paine’s writing.
To read it today, one wouldn’t appreciate how accessible it was to common folks or realize how often people read it aloud in taverns and inns so that even people who could not read could hear its ideas and engage in discussions. A reader today wouldn’t grasp just how hungry readers of 1776 were for Common Sense’s ideas.
“In weighing the influence of a tract, the active role of the reader is often underappreciated,” Young points out.
Reading is an act of volition. A person had to buy the pamphlet; one shilling was cheap as pamphlets went but costly to a common carpenter who might make three shillings a day or to a shoemaker had made even less and out of the question for a common laborer who earned one-eighth of a shilling a day. Or a person had to borrow the pamphlet, seeking out an owner, or respond to someone’s blandishments to read it. When it was read aloud, as it was in taverns and other public places, a person had to make a decision to come to listen or to stay and hear it out.[8]
In other words, readers had to actively want to read it—and they sometimes went to great lengths and expense to do so.
Common Sense sold somewhere around 125,000 copies within its first three months and, within its first six months, went through thirty-five printings—an astounding success considering the population of the American colonies totaled just under 3 million people.[9] A translation appeared for Pennsylvania’s German communities, and editions appeared in England and France.
Sales figures probably only scratch the surface of the pamphlet’s total circulation. “As its reputation and popularity spread,” says historian Scott Liell, “individual copies were read and re-read to countless assembled groups in public houses, churches, army camps, and private parlors throughout the colonies.”[10]
“Its effects were sudden and extensive upon the American mind,” pronounced Philadelphia physician Dr. Benjamin Rush, a friend of Paine’s who had suggested the title. Suddenly, the pearl-clutching in Congress became open, vigorous, public debate. (See Kevin Pawlak’s January 9, 2026 post for more info on the public reactions.) “The controversy about independent was carried into the news papers . . .” Rush recalled. “It was carried on at the same time in all the principal cities in our country.”[11] Indeed, in was in early February 1776 in a New York City bookshop—on his way from Boston to Philadelphia—that Adams first found Common Sense. (Adams would have his own complicated history with the pamphlet, which I’ll explore in a future blog post.)
To this day, Common Sense has never been out of print. It exists today as an icon, a relic, a foundational text we’ve all heard of. We accept its primacy as fact. But few people actually read it, and fewer successfully tune in to its urgency and immediacy. In commemoration of its 250th birthday, I invite you to take a closer look at a document you certainly know and think you know, and see what new sense you may be able to draw from it. (Read it here!)
[1] Jett B. Conner, John Adams vs. Thomas Paine: Rival Plans for the Early Republic (Yardley, PA: Westholme, 2018).
[2] Gordon Wood, “Thomas Paine, America’s First Public Intellectual,” Revolutionary Characters (New York: Penguin, 2006), 209.
[3] Jane E. Calvert, Penman of the Founding: A Biography of John Dickinson (London: Oxford University Press, 2024), 184.
[5] Aldred F. Young, “The Celebration and Damnation of Thomas Paine,” Liberty Tree: Ordinary People and the American Revolution (New York: New York University Press, 2003), 271.
[6] Scott Liell, 46 Pages: Thomas Paine, Common Sense, and the Turning Point to Independence (Philadelphia: Running Press, 2003), 20.
[9] Young says, “Scholars have generally accepted a circulation of 100,000 to 150,000 copies (although none of them make clear how they reached their conclusions).” Liberty Tree, 270.