_----, Feb., 1825._ To-day, at Quincy, with my brother, by

invitation of Mr. Adams’s family. The old President sat in a large

stuffed arm-chair, dressed in a blue coat, black small-clothes,

white stockings; a cotton cap covered his bald head. We made our

compliment, told him he must let us join our congratulations to those

of the nation on the happiness of his house. He thanked us, and said:

“I am rejoiced, because the nation is happy. The time of gratulation

and congratulations is nearly over with me: I am astonished that I

have lived to see and know of this event. I have lived now nearly a

century; [he was ninety in the following October:] a long, harassed,

and distracted life.”--I said, “The world thinks a good deal of joy

has been mixed with it.”--“The world does not know,” he replied, “how

much toil, anxiety, and sorrow I have suffered.”--I asked if Mr.

Adams’s letter of acceptance had been read to him.--“Yes,” he said,

and, added, “My son has more political prudence than any man that

I know who has existed in my time; he never was put off his guard:

and I hope he will continue such; but what effect age may work in

diminishing the power of his mind, I do not know; it has been very

much on the stretch, ever since he was born. He has always been

laborious, child and man, from infancy.”--When Mr. J. Q. Adams’s age

was mentioned, he said, “He is now fifty-eight, or will be in July”;

and remarked that “all the Presidents were of the same age: General

Washington was about fifty-eight, and I was about fifty-eight, and

Mr. Jefferson, and Mr. Madison, and Mr. Monroe.”--We inquired when he

expected to see Mr. Adams.--He said: “Never: Mr. Adams will not come

to Quincy but to my funeral. It would be a great satisfaction to me

to see him, but I don’t wish him to come on my account.”--He spoke of

Mr. Lechmere, whom he “well remembered to have seen come down daily,

at a great age, to walk in the old town-house,”--adding, “And I wish

I could walk as well as he did. He was Collector of the Customs

for many years under the Royal Government.”--E. said: “I suppose,

sir, you would not have taken his place, even to walk as well as

he.”--“No,” he replied, “that was not what I wanted.”--He talked of

Whitefield, and “remembered when he was a Freshman in College, to

have come into town to the _Old South_ church, [I think,] to hear

him, but could not get into the house;--I however, saw him,” he said,

“through a window, and distinctly heard all. He had a voice such as

I never heard before or since. He cast it out so that you might hear

it at the meeting-house, [pointing towards the Quincy meeting-house,]

and he had the grace of a dancing-master, of an actor of plays.

His voice and manner helped him more than his sermons. I went with

Jonathan Sewall.”--“And you were pleased with him, sir?”--“Pleased!

I was delighted beyond measure.”--We asked if at Whitefield’s return

the same popularity continued.--“Not the same fury,” he said, “not

the same wild enthusiasm as before, but a greater esteem, as he

became more known. He did not terrify, but was admired.”

We spent about an hour in his room. He speaks very distinctly for so

old a man, enters bravely into long sentences, which are interrupted by

want of breath, but carries them invariably to a conclusion, without

correcting a word.

He spoke of the new novels of Cooper, and “Peep at the Pilgrims,”

and “Saratoga,” with praise, and named with accuracy the characters

in them. He likes to have a person always reading to him, or company

talking in his room, and is better the next day after having visitors

in his chamber from morning to night.

He received a premature report of his son’s election, on Sunday

afternoon, without any excitement, and told the reporter he had

been hoaxed, for it was not yet time for any news to arrive. The

informer, something damped in his heart, insisted on repairing to the

meeting-house, and proclaimed it aloud to the congregation, who were

so overjoyed that they rose in their seats and cheered thrice. The

Reverend Mr. Whitney dismissed them immediately.

* * * * *

When life has been well spent, age is a loss of what it can well

spare,--muscular strength, organic instincts, gross bulk, and works

that belong to these. But the central wisdom, which was old in infancy,

is young in fourscore years, and, dropping off obstructions, leaves in

happy subjects the mind purified and wise. I have heard that whoever

loves is in no condition old. I have heard, that, whenever the name of

man is spoken, the doctrine of immortality is announced; it cleaves

to his constitution. The mode of it baffles our wit, and no whisper

comes to us from the other side. But the inference from the working

of intellect, hiving knowledge, hiving skill,--at the end of life just

ready to be born,--affirms the inspirations of affection and of the

moral sentiment.

THE END.

Cambridge: Printed by Welch, Bigelow, and Company.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] Dr. Thomas Brown.

[B] Iliad, III. 191.

[C] Diary, I. 169.

TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:

Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.

Obvious typographical errors have been corrected.

Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.

Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.

The cover image for this eBook was created by the transcriber using

the original cover and is entered into the public domain.

Society and solitude: Twelve chapters · 第 15 / 15 段