In due time the election was held, and Mr. Adams was returned to Congress, by a vote nearly unanimous.  From that time forward for seventeen years, and to the hour of his death, he occupied the post of Representative in Congress from the Plymouth district, in Massachusetts, with unswerving fidelity, and distinguished honor.  There can be no doubt that many of the best friends of Mr. Adams seriously questioned the propriety of his appearing as a Representative in the halls of Congress.  It was a step never before taken by an ex-President of the United States.  They apprehended it might be derogatory to his dignity, and injurious to his reputation and fame, to enter into the strifes, and take part in the litigations and contentions which characterize the national House of Representatives.  Moreover, they were fearful that in measuring himself, as he necessarily must, in the decline of life, with younger men in the prime of their days, who were urged by the promptings of ambition to tax every capacity of their nature, he might injure his well-earned reputation for strength of intellect, eloquence and statesmanship.  But these misgivings were groundless.  In the House of Representatives, as in all places where Mr. Adams was associated with others, he arose immediately to the head of his compeers.  So far from suffering in his reputation, it was immeasurably advanced during his long congressional career.  New powers were developed—­new traits of character were manifested—­new and repeated instances of devotion to principle and the rights of man were made known—­which added a brighter lustre to his already widely-extended fame.  He exhibited a fund of knowledge so vast and profound—­a familiarity so perfect with nearly every topic which claimed the attention of Congress—­he could bring forth from his well-replenished storehouse of memory so vast an array of facts, shedding light upon subjects deeply obscured to others—­displayed such readiness and power in debate, pouring out streams of purest eloquence, or launching forth the most scathing denunciations when he deemed them called for—­that his most bitter opposers, while trembling before his sarcasm, and dreading his assaults, could not but grant him the meed of their highest admiration.  Well did he deserve the title conferred upon him by general consent, of “the Old Man Eloquent!”

Had Mr. Adams followed the bent of his own inclinations—­had he consulted simply his personal ease and comfort—­he would probably never have appeared again in public life.  Having received the highest distinctions his country could bestow upon him, blessed with an ample fortune, and possessing all the elements of domestic comfort, he would have passed the evening of his earthly sojourn in peaceful tranquillity, at the mansion of his fathers in Quincy.  But it was one of the sacred rules in this distinguished statesman’s life, to yield implicit obedience to the demands of duty.  His immediate neighbors and fellow-citizens called him to their service in