In 1785 Mr. Ellery retired from political life and repaired to his now peaceful home to replenish his ruined fortune and enjoy the blessings of the Independence he had so much aided in consummating. In the spring of 1786 Congress made him commissioner of the National Loan Office for Rhode Island. Shortly after he was elected Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of his native state. On his accession to the Presidential chair, Washington appointed him Collector of Customs for Newport which station he ably filled until he took his tranquil departure to a brighter world. The evening of his life was as calm and mellow as an Italian sunset. Universally esteemed--he enjoyed a delightful intercourse with a large circle of friends. Honest, punctual and correct--he had the confidence of the commercial community in his official station. During the thirty years he was Collector of Customs, a loss of only two hundred dollars upon bond accrued to government and upon that bond he had taken five sureties. He spent much of his time in reading classic authors and in corresponding with eminent men. But three weeks before his death he wrote an essay upon Latin prosody and the faults of public speakers. His bible was a favorite companion from which he drew and drank the living waters of eternal life. Always cheerful, instructive and amusing--his company was a rich treat to all who enjoyed it. His writings combined a sprightliness and solidity rarely found. His death was as remarkable as it was tranquil and glorious. It was that of a Christian and philosopher. On the morning of the 15th of February 1820 he rose in usual health and seated himself in the flag-bottom chair which he had used for fifty years and which was a relic rescued from the flames when the enemy fired his buildings. He commenced reading Tully's _Officiis_ in his favorite Latin without the aid of glasses the print being no larger than that of a pocket bible. During the morning the family physician called in and seeing him very pale felt his wrist and found his pulse had ceased. He administered a little wine which gave a transient impetus to the purple current. The physician spoke encouragingly to whom Mr. Ellery replied--"It is idle to talk to me in this way. I am going off the stage of life and it is a great blessing that I go free from sickness, pain and sorrow." Becoming extremely weak his daughter helped him on the bed where he sat upright and commenced reading _Cicero de Officiis_ with the same composure as if in the full vigor of life. In a few moments his spirit left its tenement of clay without a motion, groan or sigh--his body still erect with the book under his chin as if asleep. William Ellery was dead--relations and friends wept--our nation mourned.