SOLD John Adams Rejoices in Seeing America’s Progress

In 1818, the life of the 83 year old Atlas of the Revolution was drawing towards a close. His wife Abigail died, and as he wrote to his son, John Quincy: “The bitterness of death is past. The grim spider so terrible to human nature has no sting left for me. My consolations are more than I can remember.”

However, his mind was still sharp, his health remained good and he continued to seek the regular company of others. He also followed politics and his son’s fortunes, maintained a lively correspondence, and (unlike in former years) took time for reflections.

As David McCullough states in his masterly biography, John Adams, “In the hours he spent alone, reading, thinking or just looking out the window by his desk, he found an inner peace, even a sense of exhilaration such as he had seldom known.”

In 1820 Adams served as a delegate to the Massachusetts Constitutional Convention, and was received heartily with a standing ovation. However, seeking justice (and, perhaps, controversy) for the last time, he tried and failed to secure an amendment guaranteeing complete religious freedom, even for Jews. However, although he enjoyed this experience, afterwards the 85 year old Adams realized that he would have to bring his public career to an end. This, and his increasing feeling of contentment over what had been accomplished by his generation, were probably very much on his mind when he received a letter from Peter S. Du Ponceau, a Frenchman who had fought in the American Revolution, then settled in Philadelphia where he became a noted lawyer and scholar.

In 1821 Du Ponceau helped found the Law Academy of Philadelphia, a group organized to promote legal knowledge and forensic skills among law students and young attorneys (and which continued into the 20th century). He sent Adams a copy of the address he had delivered at the Academy’s opening proceedings, to which Adams responded.

Letter Signed, one page 4to, Quincy, Mass., April 30, 1821, to Du Ponceau. “I know not how to express my obligation to you for your friendly letter of the 19th. Your address before the Trustees and Members of the Society for the promotion of legal knowledge, is a specimen of that elegant taste and masterly comprehension of knowledge which has distinguished your productions for many years past – and have shown to the world that this Country has done itself honor by receiving and embracing in its bosom a Citizen so worthy of its paternal benevolence. I rejoice that such an institution is to be established in Philadelphia. You have sufficiently shown the utility and necessity of it. It is a great delight to me stepping, as I am off the stage, to see so many noble institutions introduced and established in this Country. It cannot fail to promote its prosperity in all its interests – as far as human nature can be trusted with prosperity.” Adams closes with “Fervent wishes for your success.” In the top margin of the letter is a note, in another hand, stating that the text of the letter is “In the hand writing of Miss Adams now Mrs. Treadway.” This refers to Adams’ granddaughter, Susanna Boylston Adams, the child of his second son, Charles. Susanna’s first husband, Charles Clark, died in 1819, and she married William R.H. Treadway in 1833.

It is touching to see Adams acknowledge here that he is stepping off the stage, and a matter of our rejoicing to see him rejoice in the fruits of his labors: the flowering of civic, educational, and other beneficial institutions which were being established everywhere in America in that day. Moreover, it is important to know that he saw his country on the road, not merely to true independence, but prosperity and happiness. And it is pure Adams, holding on to the end to a bit of the skepticism that had marked his entire career, to add that this feeling was subject to the ability of an imperfect mankind to maintain the prosperity it wins. This is a wonderful letter in every respect. Just four months later, on August 14, 1821, some 200 West Point cadets on a tour of New England paraded past the Adams house, flags flying and band playing. The old man gladly greeted the cadets with a brief speech. It was his last public address; he had stepped off the stage.