th more than my best wishes, in the joys, and
festivities, and the solemn services of that day on which will be
completed the fiftieth year from its birth, of the independence of the
United States: a memorable epoch in the annals of the human race, destined
in future history to form the brightest or the blackest page, according to
the use or the abuse of those political institutions by which they shall,
in time to come, be shaped by the human mind."

Being solicited for a toast, to accompany the letter, he
gave--"INDEPENDENCE FOREVER!!" He was asked if anything should be added to
it. Immediately he replied--"Not a word!" This toast was drank at the
celebration in Quincy, about fifty minutes before the departure of the
venerated statesman from earth.

On the morning of the 4th, which was ushered in by the ringing of bells
and firing of cannon, he was asked if he knew what day it was?--"O yes,"
he replied, "it is the glorious fourth of July--God bless it!--God bless
you all!!" In the course of the day he said, "It is a great and glorious
day." The last words he uttered were, "Jefferson survives!" But the spirit
of Jefferson had already left the body, and was hovering over the earth,
to accompany his to higher and brighter scenes of existence!!

Mr. Jefferson had been sensible for some days, that his last hour was at
hand. He conversed with his family and friends, with the utmost composure,
of his departure, and gave directions concerning his coffin and his
funeral. He was desirous that the latter should take place at Monticello,
and that it should be without any display or parade. On Monday he inquired
the day of the month? Being told it was the 3d of July, he expressed an
earnest desire that he might be allowed to behold the light of the next
day--the fiftieth anniversary of American independence. His prayer was
heard and answered. He beheld the rising of that sun on the morning of the
4th, which was to set on a nation mourning the loss of two of its noblest
benefactors, and its brightest ornaments. He was cheerful to the last. A
day or two previous, being in great pain, he said to his physician--"Well,
doctor, a few hours more, and the struggle will be over."

On the morning of the last day, as the physician entered his apartment, he
said, "You see, doctor, I am here yet." On a member of his family
expressing an opinion that he was better, he replied, with evident
impatience--"Do not imagine for a moment that I feel t