ion
to the muse of history for one of the officials, and he appeared
to be in ordinarily good health. A resolve of thanks to the generals
of the Mexican War came up, and the clerk had read, "Resolved by
the House that"--when he was arrested by the cry of "Look to Mr.
Adams!" Mr. David Fisher, of Ohio, who occupied the desk on Mr.
Adams' right, saw him rise as if he intended to speak; then clutch
his desk with a convulsive effort, and sink back into his chair.
Mr. Fisher caught him in his arms, and in an instant Dr. Fries and
Dr. Nes, both members, were at his side.

It was a solemn moment, for a cry went from more than one, "Mr.
Adams is dying!" It was thought that, like Pitt, he would give up
the ghost "with harness on," on the spot which his eloquence had
hallowed. "Stand back!" "Give him air!" "Remove him!" Every
one seemed panic-stricken except Mr. Speaker Winthrop, who quietly
adjourned the House, and had his insensible colleague removed on
a sofa--first into the rotunda, and then into the Speaker's room.
Cupping, mustard poultices, and friction were resorted to, and
about an hour after his attack Mr. Adams said, "This is the last
of earth, but I am content." He then fell into a deep slumber,
from which he never awoke. Mrs. Adams and other relatives were
with him, and among the visitors was Henry Clay, who stood for some
time with the old patriarch's hand clasped in his, and gazed intently
on the calm but vacant countenance, his own eyes filled with tears.
Mr. Adams lingered until the evening of the 23d of February, when
he breathed his last. The funeral services were very imposing,
and a committee of one from each State accompanied the remains to
Boston, where they lay in state at Faneuil Hall, and were then
taken to Quincy for interment. The Committee returned to Washington
enthusiastic over the hospitalities extended to them while they
were in Massachusetts.

Abraham Lincoln was a member of the last Congress during the Polk
Administration. He made no mark as a legislator, but he established
his reputation as a story-teller, and he was to be found every
morning in the post-office of the House charming a small audience
with his quaint anecdotes. Among other incidents of his own life
which he used to narrate was his military service in the Black Hawk
War, when he was a captain of volunteers. He was mustered into
service by Jefferson Davis, then a lieutenant of dragoons, stationed
at Fort Dixon, wh