goes that he frequently gave expression to this wish. Did the
soul foresee the manner of its exit?

A marvelous and tragic end was indeed at hand. On the 23d of
May, 1783, only a few months before the Briton left our shores
never to return but by the courtesy of the Republic, a
thundercloud, such as the season brings in New England, passed
over Andover.

James Otis stood against the lintel of the door watching the
commotion of the elements. There was a crash of thunder. The
lightning, serpent-like, darted from heaven to earth and passed
through the body of the patriot! Instantly he was dead.

There was no mark upon him; no contortion left its snarling twist
on the placid features of him who had contributed so much of
genius and patriotic fire to the freedom and future greatness of
his country--so much to the happiness of his countrymen.

On the 24th of the month the body of Mr. Otis was taken to Boston
and was placed in modest state in his former home. The funeral
on the 25th was conducted by the Brotherhood of Free and Accepted
Masons to which Mr. Otis belonged. The sepulture was made, as
narrated in the first pages of this monograph, in the Cunningham
tomb in the Old Granary Burying Ground. In that tomb, also was
laid six years afterwards, the body of Ruth Cunningham Otis, his
wife. Out of this brief narrative of a great life, let each
reader for himself deduce as he may, the inspiration and purpose,
without which American citizenship is no better that some other.