member of the body.  One after another, the members had gone home; many of them for hours.  The hall—­brilliantly lighted up, and gaily attended, as was, and perhaps is still, the custom at the beginning the last evening of a session—­had become cold, dark, and cheerless.  Of the members who remained, to prevent the public business from dying for want of a quorum, most but himself were sinking from exhaustion, although they had probably taken their meals at the usual hours, in the course of the day.  After the adjournment, I went up to Mr. Adams’ seat, to join company with him, homeward; and as I knew he came to the House at eight o’clock in the morning, and it was then past midnight, I expressed a hope that he had taken some refreshment in the course of the day, He said he had not left his seat; but holding up a bit of hard bread in his fingers, gave me to understand in what way he had sustained nature.” [Footnote:  Edward Everett.]

The following reminiscence will further illustrate Mr. Adams’ habits of industry and endurance at a later day, as well as show his views in regard to the famous “Expunging Resolution.”

“On a cold and dreary morning, in the month of January, 1837, I went to the capitol of the United States, at a very early hour, to write out a very long speech I had reported for an honorable gentleman, who wished to look well in print; and on entering the hall of the House of Representatives, I found Mr. Adams, as early as the hour was, in his seat, busily engaged in writing.  He and myself were the only persons present; even the industrious Mr. Follansbee, the then doorkeeper, had not made his appearance, with his assistants and pages, to distribute copies of the journal and the usual documents.

“As I made it a rule never to speak to Mr. Adams, unless he spoke first, I said nothing; but took my seat in the reporters’ gallery, and went to work.  I had written about half an hour, when the venerable statesman appeared at my desk, and was pleased to say that I was a very industrious man.  I thanked him for the compliment, and, in return, remarked, that, as industrious as I might be, I could not keep pace with him, ‘for,’ said I, ‘I found you here, sir, when I came in.’

“‘I believe I was a little early, sir,’ he replied; ’but, as there is to be a closing debate to-day, in the Senate, on the expunging resolution, which I feel inclined to hear, I thought I would come down at an unusual hour, this morning, and dispatch a little writing before the Senate was called to order.’

“‘Do you think the expunging resolution will be disposed of today?’ I inquired.

“‘I understand it will,’ he rejoined.  ‘I hope so, at least,’ he added, ’for I think the country has already become weary of it, and is impatient for a decision.  It has already absorbed more time than should have been devoted to it.’

“‘It will pass, I suppose, sir?’

“’Oh, certainly; and by a very decided majority.  The administration is too strong for the opposition; and the affair will call up a strict party vote.  Of course Mr. Clay’s resolution will be expunged, and the journal will not be violated.’