to himself. He had watched with parental solicitude and pride the manifestations of his superior virtues and abilities, and he lived to see that beloved son, the object of his pride and affection, elevated to the chief magistracy of this great and prosperous republic. There is no earthly joy like parental joy, as there is no sorrow like parental sorrow. History presents no parallel for such an event; no such reward was ever allowed on earth to crown a long life of public usefulness and virtue. Mr. Adams had lived too long to regard power and official elevation as in themselves desirable, and knew from experience, that his son could not escape the anxieties and cares that render the possession of exalted stations often much less happy than the anticipation. But as the palm of virtue and high talents, honourably gained in a fair competition, he regarded his son's election to the presidency with a just and pious exultation. When the fiftieth anniversary of the declaration of independence approached, two only of the committee that prepared that document, and of the congress that voted its adoption and promulgation, and one more besides of those who inscribed their names upon it, yet survived. That such an anniversary should be the day appointed for the departure of the two co-labourers, is a circumstance that will be looked upon with a degree of wonder proportioned to the sensibility of the various minds by which it is considered. The universal burst of feeling in all parts of this country showed that the nation recognized something in the dispensation beyond the ordinary laws of human existence. Mr. Adams had not, until a very few days previous, shown any indications of a more rapid failure of strength. The fourth of July, 1826, found him unable to rise from his bed, on account of an unusual degree of debility that had come VOL. I.-Y upon him two days before. He was not, however, aware of so near an approach of death. On being asked to suggest a toast for the customary celebration of the day, he exclaimed, 'INDEPENDENCE FOR EVER! and those were the last words that he was known coherently to utter. The different mem bers of his family seemed to engross his attention after this, and at about four o'clock in the afternoon, without pain or suffering, he expired. It is known that the illustrious Jefferson departed a few hours before him; and we cannot close this imperfect sketch more appropriately, than by borrowing the language of one who most deeply felt the impressiveness of this solemn and memorable event. "They departed cheered by the benedictions of their country, to whom they left the inheritance of their fame, and the memory of their bright example. If we turn our thoughts to the condition of their country, in the contrast of the first and last day of that half century, how resplendent and sublime is the transition from gloom to glory! then, glancing through the same lapse of time, in the condition of the individuals, we see the first day marked with the fulness and vigour of youth in the pledge of their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honour, to the cause of freedom and of mankind. And on the last, extended on the bed of death, with but sense and sensibility left to breathe a last aspiration to heaven of blessing upon their country; may we not humbly hope that to them, too, it was a pledge of transition, from gloom to glory; and that while their mortal vestments were sinking into the clod of the valley, their emancipated spirits were ascending to the bosom of their God!" |