The Virginian

Extract of a letter from a Baltimore, to the
Editor of the Baltimore Patriot, dated
BOSTON, September 23, 1825.

On Monday, in company with a friend,
I visited the venerable John Adams, at his
mansion in Quincy. We arrived there before
nine in the morning; the day was
remarkably mild and pleasant, and he had,
for the first time for a long time past, taken
a ride to a near neighbour's. On our approaching
his residence, we met an aged
man in a carriage who bowed as we passed,
but we had no idea at the time, that it was
Mr. Adams. On our arrival at the house
we were very cordially received by his son,
Judge Thomas B. Adams, who informed
us that it was his father that we met on
the road, and that he would return in the
course of an hour. Being invited to wait
his return, and unwilling to depart without
seeing this venerable patriarch, we spent
the time very agreeably, in examining the
various portraits and paintings which adorn
the rooms of this large, though plain and
comfortable dwelling, and in a walk over
a part of his farm to visit his stone quarries,
which afford a moderate revenue.
The farm is under good cultivation, and
the house is of the ancient order, classical
and chaste, but by no means rich or gorgeous.
A stranger would recognize it as the
residence of the man of learning and of
science. On our return from our walk, we
were conducted to his chambers, where
we found him seated upon the sofa, attended
by his niece. I had not seen him before
for the last twelve years—time had made
a most visible alteration in his appearance,
and the first thought that struck me, was
the last scene of "Shakespeare's seven
ages." Although his size is very much reduced
and his bodily powers very frail, yet
his mental faculties appeared remarkably
strong and clear. He conversed very freely,
and asked particularly about the health
of the "venerable Carroll," as he called
him. He said he had been informed.
that he could at this day mount his horse
from the ground and ride fifteen miles
without much fatigue, and that he enjoyed
the society of his friends and partook of
the conviviality of the table as well as the
best of them. I asked him if he expected
a visit from his son, the President, this season—he
said it was quite uncertain whether
he should, but to see him once more,
would be the joy of his heart. After partaking
of refreshments, we took our leave.
with those feelings that are excited by the
reflection, that we shall see him no more
this side of the grave.