sighs and tears of many who witnessed it bore testimony. Having recovered his self-possession, the General stretched out his hands, and was in a moment surrounded by the greetings of the whole assembly, who pressed upon him, each eager to seize, perhaps for the last time, that beloved hand which was opened so freely for our aid when aid was so precious, and which grasped with firm and undeviating hold the steel which so bravely helped to achieve our deliverance. The expression which now beamed from the face of this exalted man was of the finest and most touching kind. The hero was lost in the father and the friend. Dignity melted into subdued affection, and the friend of Washington seemed to linger with a mournful delight among the sons of his adopted country.

A considerable period was then occupied in conversing with various individuals, while refreshments were presented to the company. The moment of departure at length arrived; and having once more pressed the hand of Mr. Adams, he entered the barouche, accompanied by the Secretaries of State, of the Treasury, and of the Navy, and passed from the capital of the Union. An immense procession accompanied him to the banks of the Potomac, where the steamboat Mount Vernon awaited to convey him down the river to the frigate Brandywine. The whole scene -the peals of artillery, the sounds of numerous military bands, the presence of the vast concourse of people

and the occasion that assembled them, produced emotions not easily described, but which every American heart can readily conceive. As the steamboat moved off, the deepest silence was observed by the whole multitude that lined the shore. The feelings that pervaded them was that of children bidding farewell to a venerated parent.

When the boat came opposite the tomb of Washington, at Mount Vernon, it paused in its progress. La Fayette arose. The wonders which he had performed, for a man of his age, in successfully accomplishing labors enough to have tested his meridian vigor, whose animation rather resembled the spring than the winter of life, now seemed unequal to the task he was about to perform-to take a last look at "The tomb of Washington!" He advanced to the effort. A silence the most impressive reigned around, till the strains of sweet and plaintive music completed the grandeur and sacred solemnity of the scene. All hearts beat in

unison with the throbbings of the veteran's bosom, as he looked, for the last time, on the sepulchre which contained the ashes of the first of men! He spoke not, but appeared absorbed in the mighty recollections which the place and the occasion inspired.

After this scene, the boat resumed its course, and the next morning anchored in safety near the Brandywine. Here La Fayette took leave of the Secretaries of State, the Treasury, and the Navy, and the guests who had accompanied him from Washington, together with

many military and naval officers and eminent citizens who had assembled in various crafts near the frigate to bid him farewell. The weather had been boisterous and rainy, but just as the affecting scene had closed, the sun burst forth to cheer a spectacle which will long be remembered, and formed a magnificent arch, reaching from shore to shore-the barque which was to bear the venerable chief being immediately in the centre. Propitious omen! Heaven smiles on the good deeds. of men! And if ever there was a sublime and virtuous action to be blessed by heaven and admired by men, it is when a free and grateful people unite to do honor to their friend and benefactor !*

* National Intelligencer.

CHAPTER IX.

JOHN ADAMS AND THOMAS JEFFERSON

THEIR CORRESPON

DENCE THEIR DEATH-MR. WEBSTER'S EULOGY-JOHN Q. ADAMS VISITS QUINCY-HIS SPEECH AT THE PUBLIC SCHOOL DINNER IN FANEUIL HALL.

THE patriarchs John Adams and Thomas Jefferson still lingered on the shores of time. The former had attained the good old age of 90 years, and the latter 82. Mrs. Adams, the venerable companion of the ex-President, died in Quincy, on the 28th of Oct., 1818, aged 74 years. Although, amid the various political strifes through which they had passed during the half century they had taken prominent parts in the affairs of their country, Adams and Jefferson had frequently been arrayed in opposite parties, and cherished many views quite dissimilar, yet their private friendship and deep attachment had been unbroken. It continued to be cherished with generous warmth to the end of their days. This pleasing fact, together with the wonderful vigor of their minds in extreme old age, is proved by the following interesting correspondence between them, which took place four years before their decease :—

MR. JEFFERSON TO MR. ADAMS.

Monticello, June 1, 1822. "It is very long, my dear sir, since I have written to you. My dislocated wrist is now become so stiff, that I write slowly, and with pain; and therefore write as little as I can. Yet it is due to mutual friendship, to ask once in a while how we do? The papers tell us that General Starke is off, at the age of ninety-three. ***** still lives at about the same age, cheerful, slender as a grasshopper, and so much without memory, that he scarcely recognizes the members of his household. An intimate friend of his called on him, not long since. It was difficult to make him recollect who he was, and sitting one hour, he told him the same story four times over. Is this life?—with laboring step

'To tread our former footsteps? pace the round
Eternal ?-to beat and beat

The beaten track-to see what we have seen

To taste the tasted--o'er our palates to decant
Another vintage?"

"It is, at most, but the life of a cabbage, surely not worth a wish. When all our faculties have left, or are leaving us, one by one, sight, hearing, memory, every avenue of pleasing sensation is closed, and athumy, debility, and mal-aise left in their places, when the friends of our youth are all gone, and a generation is risen around us whom we know not, is death an evil?

"When one by one our ties are torn,

And friend from friend is snatch'd forlorn;
When man is left alone to mourn,

Oh, then, how sweet it is to die!

"When trembling limbs refuse their weight,
And films slow gathering dim the sight;
When clouds obscure the mental light,
"Tis nature's kindest boon to die!'

"I really think so. I have ever dreaded a doting old age; and my health has been generally so good, and is now so good, that I dread it still. The rapid decline of my strength during the last winter, has made me hope sometimes, that I see land. During summer, I enjoy its temperature, but I shudder at the approach of