the body of Mr. Adams in the family tomb in the little burying-ground near by.

The following hymn, one of Mr. Adams's own composition, was sung in the church just preceding Mr. Lunt's discourse :

LORD OF ALL WORLDS.

Lord of all worlds, let thanks and praise
To thee forever fill my soul;

With blessings thou hast crowned my days-
My heart, my head, my hand control;

O, let no vain presumption rise,
No impious murmur in my heart,
To crave the boon thy will denies,
Or shrink from ill thy hands impart.

Thy child am I, and not an hour,
Revolving in the orbs above,
But brings some token of thy power,
But brings some token of thy love;
And shall this bosom dare repine,

In darkness dare deny the dawn,
Or spurn the treasures of the mine,
Because one diamond is withdrawn?

The fool denies, the fool alone,

Thy being, Lord, and boundless might,
Denies the firmament, thy throne,

Denies the sun's meridian light;

Denies the fashion of his frame,

The voice he hears, the breath he draws;

O, idiot atheist! to proclaim

Effects unnumbered without cause!

Matter and mind, mysterious one,

Are man's for threescore years and ten;
Where, ere the thread of life was spun?

Where, when reduced to dust again?

All-seeing God, the doubt suppress ;
The doubt thou only canst relieve;
My soul thy Savior-Son shall bless,
Fly to thy Gospel, and believe.

Charles Francis Adams subsequently placed the remains of his father and mother by the side of those of his grandparents; and hence, beneath the little granite church at Quincy now molder the ashes of these two old Presidents. In view of this quaint and interesting fact, the mayor of Boston, on receiving the body of Mr. Adams, the younger, had exclaimed :

"It is possible that other men may be attended as he will be to the grave. But when again shall the tomb of a President of the United States open its doors to receive a son who has filled the same office ?"

CHAPTER XXXIV.

END OF THE POLITICAL GOLDEN AGE-LIFE IN THE WHITE HOUSE-MR. ADAMS AND HIS FAMILY.

D

URING the early part of his diplomatic career,

Mr. Adams met Louisa Catharine Johnson; and some time afterwards, on the 26th of July, 1797, they were quietly married in a church Miss Johnson had been accustomed to attend in London. She was the daughter of Joshua Johnson, of Maryland, and niece of Governor Johnson, of that State. Her father was then Consular Agent of the United States in London, and had for several years acted in some such capacity for his Government.

She

Shortly after this event Mr. Adams, accompanied by his wife, set out on his mission to Berlin. was with him in his travels in Silesia, and at all times from the first was quite equal to the public demands made upon her without the special interference of his modeling hand. On his return to America, Mr. Adams and his family went to reside in Boston. Mrs. Adams accompanied him to Washington during his first service in Congress, in the winter of 1803. So in the subsequent sessions of his term in the Senate, she was usually in Washington. She went with him to Russia in 1809, and performed her part in the diplomatic follies of the position as creditably as did her husband his. When Mr. Adams went to Ghent in 1814, Mrs.

Adams remained at St. Petersburg, and made the long journey from there alone, during the winter and following spring, to join him in Paris.

On the 12th of February, 1807, Mr. Adams wrote the following lines in honor of his wife's birthday :

TO LOUISA.

Friend of my bosom! wouldst thou know
How, far from thee, the days I spend,
And how the passing moments flow,
To this short, simple tale attend.
When first emerging from the East
The sunbeam flashes upon my curtain,
I start from slumber's ties released,
And make the weather's temper certain.

Next on the closet's shelf I seek

My pocket Homer, and compel
The man of many wiles, in Greek,
Again his fabled woes to tell.
How true he paints the scenes of life!
How sweet the poet's honest prattle!
Far sweeter than fierce Ilium's strife,
And never-ending fields of battle.

At nine comes Moses to my door,

And down stairs summons me with ease, .
But on my neighbor calls before,

And knocks, "Miss Kitty-breakfast-please."
Again he louder knocks and stronger,
Till Kitty answers, "Coming, Moses;"
And then, in half an hour, or longer,
Comes Kitty, just as breakfast closes.

Then, forth I sally for the day,
And musing politics or rhyme,
Take to the Capitol my way,

To join in colloquy sublime.

:—

There, with the fathers of the land,
I mix in sage deliberation,

And lend my feeble voice and hand
With equal laws to bless the Nation.

The labors of the Senate o'er,
Again with solitary pace,
Down to Potomac's glassy floor
My morning footsteps I retrace;
And oft dejected or elate

With painful or with pleased reflection,
In thought renew the day's debate,
And canvass votes by retrospection.

At home I find the table spread,
And dinner's fragrant steams invite,
But first the twofold stairs I tread,
My atmospheric tale to write.
Then, seated round the social board,
We feast, till absent friends are toasted,
Though sometimes my delays afford
The beef or mutton over-roasted.

In bounces Johnson from his school,
A dogs-eared Webster in his hand,
Repeats his daily studied rule,

And next his mother takes his stand.

With looks of pure maternal bliss,

Mamma says, "John, wilt have an apple?"

And on his cheek imprints a kiss,

A cheek which rose and lily dapple.

Soon little Mary, too, they bring,
And now we practice every wile,
And clap the hands, and laugh and sing,
To catch that heaven, an infant's smile.
Meantime, an apple-paring whirl'd

Thrice round the head with mystic ditty, And forthwith on the carpet hurl'd, Foretells her future lord to Kitty.