Mr. Adams after this accident did not enjoy as sound health as in previous years, yet was more active and vigorous than the majority of those who attain to his age.  But on the 20th of November, 1846, he experienced the first blow of the fatal disease which eventually terminated his existence.

On the morning of that day, while sojourning at the residence of his son, in Boston, preparing to depart for Washington, he was walking out with a friend to visit a new Medical College, and was struck with paralysis by the way.  This affliction confined him several weeks, when he obtained sufficient strength to proceed to Washington, and enter upon his duties in the House of Representatives.  He viewed this attack as the touch of death.  An interregnum of nearly four months occurs in his journal.  The next entry is under the head of “Posthumous Memoir.”  After describing his recent sickness, he continues:—­“From that hour I date my decease, and consider myself, for every useful purpose, to myself and fellow-creatures, dead; and hence I call this, and what I may hereafter write, a posthumous memoir.”

Although he was after this, regular in his attendance at the House of Representatives, yet he did not mingle as freely in debate as formerly.  He passed the following summer, as usual, at his seat in Quincy.  In November, he left his native town for Washington, to return no more in life!

On Sunday, the 20th of February, 1848, he appeared in unusual health.  In the forenoon he attended public worship at the capitol, and in the afternoon at St. John’s church.  At nine o’clock in the evening he retired with his wife to his library, where she read to him a sermon of Bishop Wilberforce, on Time—­“hovering, as he was, on the verge of eternity!” This was the last night he passed beneath his own roof.

Monday, the 21st, he rose at his usual very early hour, and engaged in his accustomed occupations with his pen.  An extraordinary alacrity pervaded his movements, and the cheerful step with which he ascended the steps of the capitol was remarked by his attendants.  He occupied a portion of the forenoon in composing a few stanzas of poetry, at the request of a friend, and had signed his name twice for members who desired to obtain his autograph.

Mr. Chase had introduced a resolution of thanks to Generals Twiggs, Worth, Quitman, Pillow, Shields, Pearce, Cadwalader, and Smith, for their services in the Mexican war, and awarding them gold medals.  Mr. Adams was in his seat, and voted on the two questions preliminary to ordering its engrossment, with an uncommonly emphatic tone of voice.  About half past one o’clock, P. M., as the Speaker had risen to put another question to the House, the proceedings were suddenly interrupted by cries of “Stop!—­stop!—­Mr. Adams!” There was a quick movement towards the chair of Mr. Adams, by two or three members, and in a moment he was surrounded by a large number of Representatives,