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 MR. GREENE'S ORATION 
 
 0.\ TUB 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OF 
 
 JOHN QIMCY AMIS, 
 
 BEFORE THE BAR OF HAMILTON COUNTY. 
 
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 5 
 
 Cincinnati Chronicle Print. 
 
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AN ORATION 
 
 ON THE 
 
 LIFE AND CHARACTER 
 
 OF 
 
 JOHN QUINCY ADAMS 
 
 DELIVERED AT CINCINNATI, 
 
 2.1 MARCH, 184S, 
 
 BEFORE THE BAR OF HAMILTON COUNTY, 
 
 AT THEIR REQUEST. 
 
 BY WILLIAM GREENE. 
 
 CINCINNATI^: 
 1848> 
 
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 Cincinnati, April 5, 1848. 
 
 William Greene, E 
 
 Dear Sir:— On behalf of the Committee of the Bar of Ham- 
 ilton County, appointed to conduct the proceedings which it was thought just and 
 proper to take in honor of the memory of John Quincy Adams, and upon the 
 earnest suggestion of many Members of the Bar, who had the gratification of 
 hearing your discourse, commemorative of the public life and services of that 
 distinguished man, I beg you to urnish a copy of the Discourse for publication- 
 Allow me also to express, in behalf of the Committee, and of your brethren 
 of the Bar generally, our acknowledgments to you for the promptness with which 
 you undertook the duty which was, by common consent, assigned to you; and for 
 the disciimination, judgment, truth and eloquence with which you discharged it. 
 
 1 am, very respectfully, 
 
 Yours, &c, 
 
 CHARLES L. TELFORD. 
 
 Cincinnati, April 8, 1848. 
 Charles L. Telford, Esq. 
 
 Dear Sir:— I have been this morning favoured with your 
 valued letter of the 5th inst., communicating the wish of the Committee, and 
 many members of the Bar of Hamilton County, that I would furnish them, for 
 publication, a copy of the Discourse delivered by me at their instance, on the 
 25th ult., commemorative of the life and services of John Quincy Adams. With 
 unfeigned diffidence, I comply with the request, and beg to express my acknowN 
 edgments for the kind terms in which you have communicated it. 
 
 With great respect, 
 
 Your friend and servant, 
 
 W. GREENE. 
 
ORATION. 
 
 The spontaneous uprising of a whole people, to render 
 homage to a single man, is a rare occurrence in the history of 
 nations. On the occasion that has brought us here, it is a proof 
 that a great and good man has departed from among us. The 
 voice of mourning has come forth from all quarters and classes 
 of our country, with the earnest, heart-felt inquiry, what shall 
 best be done, that due honor may be paid, to the statesman, the 
 jurist, the scholar, and the man, whom the world has lost. 
 And thus the highest eulogy has already been pronounced — 
 the most distinguishing honor has already been paid, to the 
 memory and character of the illustrious dead. The highest 
 eulogy is a universal acknowledgment of virtuous desert — the 
 most distinguishing honor, the homage which that acknowl- 
 edgment spontaneously suggests and universally accords. 
 
 By the flattering invitation of my brethren of the Bar of this 
 county, I am to speak of the life and character of John 
 Quincy Adams. I come to the work under a solemn sense of 
 the responsibility of the undertaking, and with a deep and 
 humbling consciousness of my inability to do it justice. It is 
 a work from which the very ablest minds might shrink. Indeed, 
 I should regard that man, however able, as least fit to venture 
 upon it, whose knowledge of his subject was so imperfect, as 
 not to have taught him, that to treat it properly, is beyond the 
 reach of any human strength. 
 
 I am to speak of a man, whose active connection with our 
 national affairs, comprises a period of nearly sixty years: 
 whose comprehensive mind, through all that time, has largely 
 contributed to unfold and apply the great principles of our 
 government; and whose lofty independence and uncompromi- 
 
siug virtue have done more than those of almost any other on 
 man, to breathe into our system that high moral tone, which 
 has kept its vital purity untouched and uncorrupted, in spite of 
 all the tendencies of political changes to weaken or undermine 
 it. I am to speak of a man, whose services to his generation 
 have been as various as they have been unintermitted: whose 
 performance of them has always been complete, in proportion 
 to the occasions which demanded them; and whose long life, it 
 may almost literally be said, has reached its limit, without 
 leaving a duty unperformed, even to the last day of conscious- 
 ness. In speaking of such a life, all mere verbal panegyric 
 becomes insignificant and feeble before the eulogy which itself 
 pronounces. 
 
 The town of Braintree (now Quincy) in the State of Massa- 
 chusetts, on the 1 1th of July, 17G7, had the honour of the birth 
 of John Quincy Adams. Some six or seven years after the 
 event from which his father dated the birth of American Inde- 
 pendence — the celebrated and never to be forgotten speech of 
 James Otis against writs of assistance — and some seven or 
 eight years before the first gun was fired at Lexington, which 
 insured that Independence a triumphant establishment — almost 
 at the exact middle point between the earliest suggestion of the 
 idea of our nation's freedom, and the final consummation of it — 
 the now deceased Patriot first breathed the breath of life. 
 Bright, indeed, and auspicious, was the commencement of the 
 earthly pilgrimage of the man, whose first sunlight was hal- 
 lowed by the struggles it witnessed, of human liberty, and 
 whose destiny was, in never ceasing labours through a long 
 life of eighty years, to help to perpetuate the glories which 
 those struggles so successfully achieved! 
 
 J luring the first eleven years of his life, the fostering care ol 
 a rarely gifted mother laid the foundation o\ that extraordinary 
 character, which, in all its varieties of development and usi . 
 lias shed so much honour on our country and our age. Thanks 
 to the maternal care and culture, to whose early trainings in 
 the ways of virtue, integrity and truth, the world owes so 
 large a debt, in the examples and lessons of the life whose end 
 now mourn! 
 
At the age of eleven years, the mother's peculiar care ceased; 
 not, however, to the disadvantage of a mind and character 
 which she had so completely fitted for the advanced training of 
 a larger sphere of study. The city of Paris, under his gifted 
 father's guidance, was now the place of an eighteen months' 
 residence and culture. At the end of that period, he accom- 
 panied his father home. In three months they returned again 
 to Europe, where the son remained at school in Paris, Amster- 
 dam and Leyden, until in 1781, at the age of fourteen years, 
 he accompanied Francis Dana, our first Minister to Russia, in 
 the capacity of Private Secretary. After a year's residence at 
 St. Petersburgh, he rejoined his Father in Holland, from which 
 country they went to Paris in 1783, during which year the trea- 
 ty with England was negotiated which finally settled the ques- 
 tion of independence between America and the mother country. 
 The son continued with the father in Europe until 1785. In 
 that year, returning to America, he entered the Junior Class of 
 Harvard University, and graduating in due course in 1787, he, 
 at once, at the age of twenty, commenced the study of the 
 Law with the celebrated Theophilus Parsons of Newburyport. 
 At the termination of his legal studies, he commenced the prac- 
 tice of the Law in Boston, in which he remained for four years, 
 during which period, he manifested such remarkable and states 
 manlike abilities by his political writings, as to attract the par- 
 ticular attention of the national government with Washington 
 at its head; who conferred upon him in May, 1794, the office of 
 Minister Resident to the Netherlands. In May, 1796, he was 
 commissioned bv Washington to a full mission at the court of 
 Lisbon, and in May, 1797, by his father, at the court of Berlin. 
 During his residence there, he was specially commissioned to 
 negotiate a treaty of amity and commerce with the king of 
 Sweden; and in 1801, on the retirement of his father from the 
 Presidency, under the influence of a delicacy which the strongly- 
 expressed wishes of Mr. Jefferson were unable to overcome, 
 he solicited and received his re-call; and in September of the 
 last mentioned year, returned a private citizen to his native 
 land. During the following year, he was elected to the Senate 
 of Massachusetts, and by the Legislature of that State to the 
 
Senate of the United States for the term of six years from the 
 4th of March, 1 803. During this period he was appointed Pro- 
 fessor of Rhetoric and Oratory at Harvard, and delivered reg- 
 ular courses of Lectures during the recesses of Congress. In 
 1808, in consequence of the disapprobation of his constituents 
 of his vote on the Embargo question, he resigned his seat in 
 the Senate, and became again a private citizen. In 1 800, he 
 was appointed by Mr. Madison, Minister to Russia. While 
 there, he received a commission as Justice of the Supreme 
 Court of the United States which he declined. He remained 
 in Russia, until his appointment to the commission which, at 
 Ghent, negotiated the Treatv that terminated the war with 
 England, of 1812. lie was then appointed Minister to Eng- 
 land, where he continued until 1817, when he was called to the 
 State Department by President Monroe. In this office he re- 
 mained until his election to the Presidency in 1825. At the 
 close of his Presidential term in 1829, he became again a 
 private citizen, and so continued till his election in 1830 to the 
 House of Representatives of the United States from Ids native 
 District, in which office he remained, without intermission for 
 seventeen years, until his death. 
 
 Thus, from the period of 1791 to the present year IS IS, with 
 but three short intervals, Mr. Adams was in the public service. 
 Thus, for fifty-four years, his name has been identified with the 
 domestic and foreign relations of our country; filling stations 
 of the highest responsibility; performing duties of the most mo- 
 mentous trust; and so performing them, as that now, in that long 
 retrospect, a whole nation, without distinction of party, 
 class, sex or age, pronounces a verdict of confidence, reverence 
 and honour, such as has been awarded to but few men in the 
 world's whole history, ami such as must secure to his name and 
 character the highest eulogy, in our own country's annals, 
 through all coming time. 
 
 The consequence of a public, man is often estimated, more 
 by the offices he lias held, than by the manner in which he has 
 performed the duties of them. Success in a career of public 
 confidence i- regarded, and properly regarded, as proof of merit 
 in the subject of it. Unfortunately, however, in the experi- 
 
encc of elective forms of government, as of others, the reality 
 does not always correspond with the indication; and the ig- 
 norant and unworthy are often found filling the places, from 
 which the wise and virtuous have been excluded. The laws 
 of party association under the elective system, which too often 
 point to men to do a party work, instead of a useful service to 
 their country, are frequently too strong for the virtue which 
 would reject a candidate because he was unqualified. Hence 
 demagogues are often found in the highest trusts of power, and 
 are continued there in spite of their un worthiness, because 
 their identity with the party system to which they owe their 
 elevation, renders them indispensable to its support. 
 
 Not of the category here presented, was the man JohnQuincy 
 Adams. Ihc eulogy is, not in the offices he held for more than 
 fifty years, but in the works which those offices gave him the 
 opportunity to do. His success was not in reaching the highest 
 honours which the world could give him, but in the good he per- 
 formed to make those honours appropriately his. His glory is, 
 not that he was President of the United States, but that the 
 deeds he did outshone in splendor the station which enabled 
 him to do them. 
 
 It is to the character of Mr. Adams, illustrated by the life 
 whose summary I have briefly given, that I would invite par- 
 ticular attention in the further progress of this discourse. I 
 shall speak of him, as a Statesman, as a Jurist, as a Scholar, and 
 as a Man; and first as a Statesman. 
 
 The circumstances of Mr. Adams' early life, were eminently 
 fitted to form his character an 1 tastes for a career of politics. 
 The courts of Europe were the schools of his boyhood; the 
 good or evil experience of which he would learn wisely to im- 
 prove, under the guidance and advice of the first statesmen of 
 the age. The science of Government and the policy of Ad- 
 ministration, thus entered largely into the growth and forma- 
 tion of his early mind — impressing it with an intelligence and 
 imbuing it with a spirit which could not fail to prepare him for 
 the future high vocation to which his destiny directed him. 
 But in addition to these advantages of intellectual culture in 
 the great business of politics, his constant association with the 
 
IG 
 
 best men gave him a moral enlargement, which formed the vital 
 element of his character in his whole subsequent career. This 
 it was that controlled, directed and informed all the energies 
 of his mind, and gave him that eminent success in his long and 
 varied course, which, though doubtless occasionallv marked bv 
 imperfections of judgment, has left his honour wil .t a stain. 
 It is an enquiry of the deepest interest to us, especially as 
 illustrated by the career of Mr. Adams, what elements consti- 
 tute the true American statesman? The enquiry is properly 
 answered by a reference to the theory of our government. 
 That theory supposes perfect integrity, justice and truth in 
 every act of administration; integrity, in every individual who 
 participates in the exercise of power: justice, towards those, 
 whether at home or abroad, native or foreign, individuals or 
 nations, who are the subjects of it: and truth, towards those 
 eternal principles of abstract right, without which government 
 is a mockery, and rulers only the ministers of sin. 
 
 The integrity of which I speak, excludes all selfish aggran- 
 dizement as the aim of political advancement; and holds the 
 supreme public good as the exclusive end of individual po- 
 litical ambition. It places the man of power upon the resp< ri- 
 sibility that he has been chosen to a trust to perform its la- 
 bours in the sentiment of duty. It restricts the great doctrine 
 of appointment and suffri ■. to the selection of men to office, 
 not because they desire to serve, but because their services 
 are believed to be important to the public good. It condemns 
 the whole idea of reward forpartizan devotion; not that this 
 devotion should be a bar to claims for office ; but that these claims 
 have no proper foundation, except in moral anil intellectual 
 fitn- . 
 
 The justice of which I speak, will never take where it is not 
 entitled, and will always give where it is hound. It applies as 
 well to nations as to individuals — ami what would be wrong in 
 the hist, can never, by any difference "i position, be made right 
 in the first. Tower, whether national or individual, when con- 
 trolled and informed by this principle of justice, is powerless 
 to do wrong; and is equally effici( nt and certain to do right, 
 whatever the weakness with which it deals, when the appeal 
 
11 
 
 of injurv and oppression is endorsed by the proper testimonials 
 of its claims. Before this high principle of justice, no possess- 
 ion won from ignorance by diplomatic art, or wrung from 
 weakness by the arrogance of power, can be advocated for a 
 moment in a Court of Virtue, or receive an instant's support 
 in the good word of an honourable man. And applying this 
 great principle to the moral polity of nations, he who by mere 
 diplomatic skill carries a point to which perfect fairness does 
 not entitle the nation he represents, or he, who, by the sword, 
 in the mere lust of conquest, seizes what by universal assent 
 belongs to the power with which he is contending, no matter 
 how high the laudations of genius in the one case, or of chivalry 
 or bravery in the other, must, in the act itself, before Heaven 
 be res:arded as a minister of wrong. 
 
 The truth, of which I speak, is the great central principle — 
 the very heart — of all legitimate government. It expresses 
 the whole idea of the rights of man. It is peculiarly the foun- 
 dation of our theory of government. The Declaration of 
 Independence proclaims it, when it declares all men to be by 
 nature free and equal. It recognises every being, bearing the 
 human form, of whatever race, colour, or intelligence, as a child 
 of the Omnipotent — equally the subject of his care — equally 
 responsible to his government, and equally destined to that final 
 judgment of all men, which shall show no respect of persons. 
 Rational freedom, whether moral, intellectual, or personal, is 
 the first and highest form, in which truth in government is 
 bodied forth. Our theory contemplates this freedom in its 
 lurgest sense, — and if, in practice, it shall be found not to be 
 fully carried out, our system is so far a departure from the plat- 
 form on which it professes to stand. To say that there are 
 exceptions to the rule, is to substitute heathen speculation for 
 Christian law; and to adopt such exceptions in the administra- 
 tion of our government, would be to vindicate arbitrary human 
 conventions, against the everlasting and unchanging ordinances 
 of God. 
 
 These three great elements then, integrity, justice, and truth 
 as suggested by the theory of American Institutions, must be 
 regarded as indispensable to the character of the true American 
 
IS 
 
 ►Statesman. And when to these we add, the educated mind thai 
 penetrates the depths of the philosophy of government, and the 
 large experience that applies that philosophy to its appropriate 
 ends for human good, we have the character complete. And 
 in the whole wide range of history? whether of ancient or 
 modern times, of whom can it be said that these qualities of the 
 statesman were united in a higher degree than in John Quincy 
 Adams? His whole history exhibits unceasing proof that he 
 possessed and illustrated them all; — and the universal mind 
 this great nation, this day heartily responds to the declaration 
 which that history gives. 
 
 In a life so long, in a career so varied, connected with events 
 so numerous and important, it would have been more than 
 human, that he should have made no mistakes. The wonder 
 is, that he should have made so few.* It would have been 
 equally more than human, in such a career as his, that, in his 
 relations to the world around him. he should have escaped en- 
 tirely the obloquy of party hostility, and the envy of rival 
 competition. It has been the fate of great men, in all times, 
 to be misunderstood by ignorance, and misrepresented by 
 malice; and until man is changed, the experience of the past 
 in this respect, must be the experience of the future. The vir- 
 ulence of party prejudice spares no victim which refuses obe- 
 dience to its behests; and the desolating, proscribing spirit of 
 party opposition, spares no man, however exalted in purity, 
 who stands in the way of its succes.-. x, are two reliev- 
 ing thoughts, however, to this sad condition of our race. The 
 first is, that attacks upon men in high position, however unjust 
 and apparently malevolent, are, in fact, only modes by which 
 contending parties carry on their warfare; and not. verital 
 and truly, permanently designed, against the men themselv 
 The second thought is suggested by the first: that when the 
 events which occasioned such attacks have become history. 
 and the passions that attended them have passed away, the 
 judgmenl of the world separates the mi n from the events: and 
 however the latter may still I e condemned, pronounces upon 
 tin' former according to their appropriate deserts. No men. 
 in all our history, were more maligned during their can 
 
13 
 
 statesmen, than George Washington, John Jay, and Alexander 
 
 Hamilton; and yet, now, what man would be tolerated for an 
 instant, in a word oi" disrespect to the memory of either? The 
 name of John Quincy Adams is now added to that list. 
 
 The character of Mr. Adams as a Statesman, in the actual 
 details of official duty, was as remarkable in its particular de- 
 velopments, as his whole career was for its general excellence. 
 Whether as Minister abroad, Secretary at home, President of 
 the United States, or Member of Congress, he was never found 
 wanting in the gifts that were properly suited to his place. 
 His exact and laborious attention to the duties of his station, 
 was proverbial. It was always certain that whatever he un- 
 dertook he would perform. Persevering industry entered into 
 all his purposes, and inflexible determination overcame all ob- 
 stacles in their accomplishment. He never heeded the sugges- 
 tions of repose when a work was to be done, and he was to do 
 it. This fact at once expresses and accounts for the singularly 
 marked history of his public life; in which he worked so long, 
 did so much, and did every thing so well. The history of most 
 men is marked by love of ease. The habits have not been form- 
 ed that would overcome it; and hence, so much in life that ought 
 to be done, that is wholly omitted, and so much that is attempt - 
 ed, that is only half performed. And hence, again, the reason 
 that there are so few men like John Quincy Adams. 
 
 As a Minister abroad and as Secretary of State, his official 
 correspondence for long years, brought him into contact, and 
 often collision, with the first minds of the age. He was al- 
 wavs found equal to the occasions that called forth his powers. 
 He felt, thought, and wrote, as a Christian Statesman. He nev- 
 er lacked the intelligence to supply him with the proper mate- 
 rials for the argument, nor the reasoning power to make the 
 argument efficient for its purpose. But above all, there prevailed 
 through all his diplomatic papers that high moral tone, which, 
 while he always showed the spirit, and exerted the power, to 
 claim and enforce what was right, never permitted him to violate 
 his duty to himself, by claiming or enforcing what he knew to 
 be wrong. The hacknied declaration, almost meaningless now- 
 a-days, of demanding only what is right and submitting to 
 
14 
 
 nothing that is wrong, was, with him, a thing not merely to be 
 said, but to be done. 
 
 As President of the United States, his views of what be- 
 longed to the true interests of his country, were as comprehen- 
 sive, as his intelligence of these interests, was universal. In his 
 construction and application of constitutional power, he thought 
 more of the practical good to which it could be made subservi- 
 al, than of the metaphysical refinements, which, in matters of 
 the highest public interest, might make the constitution mere 
 waste paper. He regarded our complex system of government 
 not as a mere chaos of conflicting elements, to defeat the ends 
 of its creation, but as a sen- adjustment of harmonious 
 
 principles to promote them. When he thought of roads, rivers 
 and harbour improvements, he thought of them as useful aids 
 to accomplish the objects for which the government was insti- 
 tuted, viz: the suitable development of a great nation's ener- 
 gies, and, therein the promotion of the true progress of a great 
 people. lie thought what ought to be done, to do great good — 
 not what might be done, to prevent it. His mind was animated 
 by the true spirit of growth that would carry his country on- 
 ward; and not by the unprofitable spirit of technical contests 
 about power, that would keep his country back. He would 
 do the good thing, and therein prove that he had the power to 
 do it. 
 
 In his appointments to office, his enquiry was. not how much 
 service a partizan had rendered, but how much capacity and 
 virtue a man possessed — and his commission was conferred, 
 not upon the one who claimed a rewind for his own account 
 but upon the one, whom the country wanted because of his 
 ability to do the country's work. He never removed a man 
 from office, but for some cause connected with the performance 
 of its duties; ami then he was as linn in making the needful 
 change, as, in other cases, he was disinterested, in continuing 
 men in office, however strongly they may have been personal- 
 ly or politically opposed to him. He regarded the power of 
 appointment as a sacred trust, to he exercised exclusively for 
 the people who confided it to him; and in the exercise of which 
 any intermixing of his private feelings or interests, would have 
 
15 
 
 been a usurpation of power, instead of a constitutional dispen- 
 sation of it. 
 
 In appointments belonging to subordinate departments of 
 the Government, though the heads of these were entirely de- 
 pendent upon him, if he suggested a preference in favour of a 
 particular candidate, in a given case, the favourable response 
 to it, if haply it were given, was a favour granted to his re- 
 quest, not an act done in compliance with his command: — and 
 if perchance the response were unfavourable, instead of re- 
 moving the non-complying functionary for opposing the Presi- 
 dent's wishes, that functionary, in his estimation, but added an- 
 other proof of his fitness for his place, that he acted without 
 fear of vengeance from the President's power. 
 
 As a member of Congress, during the last seventeen years 
 of his life, though always a decided Whig, he never spoke or 
 acted on mere party grounds. He knew as well how to make 
 exceptions as how to follow rules. The spirit of integrity 
 that pointed him to the right as a lover of his country, spurned 
 the trammels that would bind him to a wrong as the follower 
 of a party. His keen perception of what was fit and proper, 
 and what not, in a matter that beckoned his support, quickly 
 scented the error, if such there were, that would bribe the up- 
 rightness of the man to do the dishonourable office of the har- 
 nessed parti/an. Hence his speeches and his votes, for or 
 against measures, were because he thought them right or wronor; 
 and thus, in all measures of party movement to which he accord- 
 ed his assent, it might be truly said, not that he was of his party 
 but that his party was of liim. It would follow from this that 
 Mr. Adams, on the floor of Congress would make but an un- 
 satisfactory party leader. He could not make the necessarv 
 compromises to render him reliable for all occasions of a partv 
 system. But if he could not lead, he could hold in check; 
 and if he might not direct the course of the ship of state in her 
 ordinary voyage, he was always ready in emergency, for the 
 .higher service of saving her from the perils of a storm. 
 
 His position as a member of the Hohse of Representatives 
 was, without doubt, the most useful of any part of his career. 
 Incidents of the highest moment in the development of our 
 
1G 
 
 stem, have marked the history of the country for the last 
 twenty years. Organized as parties have been during that peri- 
 od, occasions have arisen in which things might not be done as 
 part of a party system, however intrinsically right, from a 
 slavish fear, that some present inclination of unmatured popular 
 opinion might lead to disastrous results to party power. Such 
 occasions have required a man, who was wise enough to 
 understand the truth, upright enough to be governed by it, and 
 bold enough to speak it: — a man, who would distinguish be- 
 tween the temporary triumph of a falsehood, for a present 
 advantage, and the lasting victory of a truth, for a permanent 
 one; who could see in the first, the ephemeral influence of a 
 passing passion, and in the last, the solid power of enduring 
 virtue; and who, acting upon these distinctions, would cheer- 
 fully resign himself to temporary obloquy as the consequence 
 of a present defence of truth, leaving to the unimpassioned 
 judgment of the future, to do him final justice, by declaring 
 that he was right. Such a man was found in John Quincy 
 Adams. The heart, now cold, was warmed by every demand 
 upon its sympathies, which was permitted to find its way into 
 that House. The spirit, now departed, was fired in the cai 
 of human right whenever it petitioned for an adv< within 
 
 the walls of that Capitol. The voice now silent, was heard in 
 thunder tones that shook this continent, when the story of 
 down trodden human freedom required a full grown man. to 
 vindicate its privilege of being heard, before that assembled 
 ma if the nation. 
 
 In that crowning act ^{' Mr. Adams' political career, — his 
 defence of surpassing power, of the unrestricted right of 
 petition on the floor of Congress — there was the Genius of the 
 American Revolution, waked up from sleep, to renew its vows 
 in vindication of a great central principle ofliberty: there v. 
 the Spirit of Seventy-six, gone away awhile to Heaven with 
 the Revolutionary Fathers, now come back again lo earth, to 
 renew its battles in the cause of American Independence. 
 Felicitous, indeed! most fitly appropriate to such an occasion, 
 was the embodiment of that Genius and that Spirit in a man 
 wh arliest aspirations were associated with their own 
 
17 
 
 morning glories; whose heart was still burning with the fires, 
 which, for seventy years, he had kept brightly blazing on their 
 altars; whose moral courage was equal to the work which 
 they gave to him to do, in spite of any opposition, however 
 threatening, which earth might raise against him; and the moral 
 influence of whose character fixed such a seal upon his tri- 
 umph, as that no recreancy shall dare to touch it, and no 
 tyranny have power to break it, through all future time! 
 
 Closely allied to the character of the Statesman is that of the 
 Jurist. Indeed, the first character is incomplete unless 
 grounded upon and informed by the high cultivation of the last. 
 Mr. Adams' connection with the bar proper, was of but short 
 duration; and the best part of the four years that comprehended 
 it, was devoted to studies, and passed in pursuits, which be- 
 longed more to the whole country than to a part of it. Not 
 that he would have failed of eminent success in the ordinary 
 walks of local jurisprudence; but that his habits, tastes and 
 aspirations had aims beyond them. That he was a thoroughly 
 read lawyer, was a necessary part of his early and preparatory 
 culture. That he was a thoroughly accomplished statesman, 
 was a proof that he was a thoroughly read lawyer; and not to 
 regard such a man as a member of the profession, would be to 
 make the enlargement of its sphere of action, separate it from 
 the excellence which is its highest, glory, and dissociate it from 
 the fame which is its highest earthly reward. Honoured then, 
 thrice honoured be the profession, that has sent forth from its 
 bosom a man, so distinguished for the profoundness of his 
 learning, and given to eulogy a name, by which, in all time, 
 an age will be distinguished! Honoured, thrice honoured be 
 the profession, which has given to the world a Representative, 
 whose practice was so eminent and upright, not, to be sure, at 
 the bar of Massachusetts; nor vet' at the higher bar of the 
 capital of our Union; but at the bar of the civilized world, 
 where millions were the stake, and nations the clients! 
 
 The science of jurisprudence is as applicable to nations as to 
 individuals — to whole communities as to single members of them. 
 Whether the one or the other be its object, its essential con- 
 stitution is the philosophy of human rights and obligations, 
 
IS 
 
 ascertained by the experience of acres, and put into form by the 
 wisdom of the learned. Of this science, in the larger applica- 
 tions of it, few men were more profoundly studied than Mr. 
 Adams. In the department of the Law of Nations, his Diplo- 
 matic papers are often instructive treatises; and no American 
 Lawyer should consider his education as complete, v > has 
 not read and mastered them. Books on Xi-i Prius, may give 
 all the learning that is necessary to a successful practice in 
 ordinarv litigation between man and man; but books and learn- 
 ing of quite another sort, belong to that larger range of 
 the lawyers duty, which embraces the international relations 
 of the world within its sphere. 
 
 That deeper study of Jurisprudence which looks beyond the 
 fee, is the proper glory of the Jurist, who feels that he has an 
 intellect to care for, and a soul to save, as well as a body to 
 clothe and feed. The temporary acquisition which the wants of 
 physical life make needful, is well and right; but this is too 
 often permitted to quench the fire of that ambition which looks 
 to the largest usefulness as its highest aim, and to that intellect- 
 ual culture, which is indispensable to the attainment of the 
 means to make certain its accomplishment. In this respect 
 Mr. Adams' career was an example to every lawyer; and in 
 all respects — in the lesson of industry which his whole life 
 inculcated; in the teachings of integrity and fairness of which 
 his writings are full; in the earnest seekings after the truth 
 with which his correspondence, his speeches, his orations and his. 
 arguments abound, a model of excellence is presented ot 
 which but few parallels may be found in history, and which 
 every Jurist and Statesman may well feel proud to follow. 
 
 As a Scholar, Mr. Adams' standing was among the 
 first. In whatever came within the range o[ literature or sci- 
 ence, he seemed always to bea master. No subject seemed 
 too large for bis ready grasp — none too minute for his critical 
 attention. He was a Poet, Philosopher, Orator and Writer. 
 II is knowledge of the classic tongues was as perfect as that oi 
 his vernacular; and he wielded the literature which they 
 embody as though he had been cotemporary with it. He 
 had a profound reverence fpr the learning and wisdom pi the 
 
19 
 
 ancients, and drank deeply and constantly of their teachings. 
 He had no sympathy with the disposition, quite too common, 
 to undervalue them. He was accustomed to estimate their 
 attainments by the standard of their age; and the authority of 
 the truths they uttered and the sound philosophy they 
 taught, was not the less revered by him, that they did not ex- 
 ist a couple of thousand years later than they did. The 
 truths of Homer and of Ilesiod, of iEschylus and Sophocles 
 were not the less truths to him, that they were uttered in an 
 age of heathen darkness; and not the less deserving of careful 
 study, that they were revealed in poetic forms. So of the 
 Philosophers of that beautiful olden time of Greece — though 
 the lapse of centuries has brought— each century its addition — 
 to the great magazine of human knowledge; and though wis- 
 dom sheds forth its light through a Christian instead of a heath- 
 en medium, it could not escape him, and no philosopher who 
 venerates the truth can overlook the fact, that our modern 
 libraries would be without their Bacons and their Johnsons, 
 had there been no Platos or Aristotles in the world before 
 them. 
 
 In the meagre Roman literature that preceded the Augustan 
 age, Cicero was the great model of Mr. Adams. The life of 
 the ancient statesman, as of the modern, was one of perseve- 
 ring toil. His whole career was a series of virtuous triumphs 
 to his character. His ambition was of the highest kind, and the 
 highest dignities rewarded it. He was the life and informing 
 spirit of the virtuous of Home for nearly forty years. His 
 orations are among the grandest specimens of human genius, 
 and his philosophical writings among the proudest achieve- 
 ments of human wisdom. His virtues and his powers were 
 worthy of saving a thousand States; but — a melancholy reflec- 
 tion to all thinking men, and teaching a lesson which all should 
 learn, whether thinking or unthinking — the honest credulity of 
 the people, deluded to their ruin by the arts of aspiring and cor- 
 rupt leaders, prevented his, permanently, saving one. 
 
 With such a model, it is not surprising, that such a man ns 
 Mr. Adams should have been enamoured; and those who have 
 carefully observed, or learned, the career of the modern 
 
■ 
 
 statesman, can hardly fail to perceive in it, astrikii g 
 lei with that of the ancient; — so that a double eulogy is pro- 
 nounced, in the mention of their honoured names together. 
 The scholarship of Mr. Adams was entirely, unpretending. 
 
 He was wise as well as learned, and valued knowledge ior its 
 fruits. True, in whatever of literary effort he undertook, the 
 attainments he exhibited always met the demands of the occa- 
 sion. But they served as illustrations for others, not as dis- 
 plays for himself. Besides being a very modest man, his 
 mind was full of its own generalizations; and hence, it was 
 natural for him to speak his own thoughts rather than those of 
 others. The mere shew of learning, is, in effect, but the speak- 
 ing of other people's thoughts, or the relation of facts which 
 any body may know as well. Every one may learn, but 
 few become wise by thinking for themselves. This may be 
 said of all true learning. But there is, besides, an ignorance^ Mis- 
 called lcarniivj;, which afjes have accumulated in countless 
 volumes, to darken and enslave the mind, as well as a true 
 knowledge to enlighten and make it free; and every one, as 
 occasion may be, must think out for himself, his own discrimin- 
 ations between the two, if he would know as well how not to 
 acquire or be misled by the one, as how to gain and properly 
 improve the other. 
 
 The leading characteristic of Mr. Adams' written style 
 was earnestness. The whole man seems bent upon telling, 
 what he is telling, truly. His language and illustrations arc, 
 occasionally, in a high degree ornate. But the dowers that 
 come upon him, come by the way: come of their own accord, 
 and from a sort of sympathy which creates them without his 
 knowledge. His mind is evidently thinking of something 
 else, than mere words and sentences. If there be precision in 
 the one, or beauty in the other, it is because his mind can 
 forth in no other form. Deeply imbued with the exactni 
 of truth, and the spirit of beauty, bis style would naturally 
 partake of these qualities without effort, and even against it« 
 His perception of the beautiful was as delicate as his appre- 
 ciation of the true; and his distinction in both, had its proper 
 origin in the unbroken action of his mind in the sphere of elc- 
 
21 
 
 • a led thought. No mean topic ever gained entrance to his mind, 
 and no mean word ever fell from his pen or was uttered by his 
 lips. 
 
 In reference to his oratorical abilities, I would distinguish be- 
 tween his written orations and his extemporaneous speeches. 
 The first are models of that class of literary labour; the last are 
 remarkable only for the earnestness which possessed his whole 
 character. The first remind us of Cicero, as probably would the 
 last, if any thing were left us of Cicero that had not been written 
 out bv his own hand. The reason of the distinction between Mr. 
 Adams' written and extemporaneous efforts is quite obvious. 
 The greater part of his life had been devoted to writing; but 
 a very small part comparatively to speaking. He was a mas- 
 ter in the art of oratory — extemporaneous as well as written; 
 but it is practice only, that can make the master in any art, 
 a living; illustration of his own lessons. 
 
 In conversation, Mr. Adams' powers were unsurpassed; not 
 merely in the range of topics and his universal knowledge con- 
 nected with them, but in his manner of discussing them. His 
 manner was deliberate without being cold — reserved without 
 being repulsive. He talked like one who felt that he was ful- 
 filling a responsibility; and yet there was nothing of the stiffness 
 that indicated labour, nor of the formality of phrase which too 
 frequently converts the talker into the speaker. His conver- 
 sation was never obtrusive, but always ready. He would 
 answer any call made upon him by any honest enquirer after 
 truth; and no matter what the subject, the rock was never 
 struck that streams of wisdom did not (low forth from it. His 
 colloquial style was simple and lucid because unstudied. It was 
 beautiful, because so rich and pure a mind could exhibit itself 
 only in its natural dress. If he had learning to impart, it) 
 was because, he would present his thought with the approprL 
 ate illustration; but the vanity of mere attainment never 
 offended a companion, by displays in any form of pedantry. 
 
 As a Max, Mr. Adams was pre-eminent in both the private 
 and the social virtues. His character was founded in a deep re- 
 ligious faith, and his thoughts, words and actions were habitu- 
 ally subordinated to the sense of religious accountability. Ilis 
 
or, 
 
 views of Christianity were altogether independent of any 
 mere formula of doctrine. Always referring to the Christian 
 standard as authoritative upon his motives, his actions were 
 the issues, rather of the heart that felt, than of the head that 
 thought. Dogmas, with him, were the speculative inferences 
 of intellectual investigation; the duties of life had a deeper 
 significance in their alliance with the sentiments of the sou!. 
 
 In his intercourse with men, he was never so forgetful of 
 himself as not to remember the respect that was properly due 
 to others. Though the centre of every circle in which he 
 moved, and the oracle of every association with which he 
 was connected, no mark of conscious superiority ever stood 
 out upon his teachings — no display of vanity ever appeared, to 
 weaken the force with which he uttered them, lie never 
 claimed anything from station. Though born, educated, and, 
 through life, associated, with the most exalted, he was ever the 
 humblest of the humble; and in this, he illustrated one of the 
 most beautiful truths in character: — that those who least claim 
 the show of respect, are, generally most entitled to the reality 
 of it, and, I may add, most generally receive it. The tinsel out- 
 side drapery of life with which his positions more or less con- 
 nected him, and which swells the self estimation oi' most men. 
 had no charms for him. The trappings of the palace were 
 matters to be submitted to; not desired or vainly estimated. 
 They were things of state; and to be thought of, only as thin 
 that perish in the using. 
 
 In the exercise of power in office, he never forgot that it was 
 not his own, but only a trust committed to him, by and in 1 
 half of others, and for their exclusive use. Hence power with 
 him was onlvan incident of duty: to be exercised, not lor him- 
 self, but for the ends lor which he held it. It must be a fearful 
 thing to hold, as it were, the political destinies o\' a nation in 
 one's hand, as does the President of the United States! Fear- 
 ful! lest the love of displaying power, lor the sake ^( vanity, 
 be Stronger than that of suppressing it. tor the sake of justice. 
 There are but few in high position of any sort, who are willin 
 lo forego the present opportunity iA' exercising their power 
 over others, for the future glory of having shown themselves 
 
23 
 
 above the temptations of it. Most men had rather be talked 
 about and, felt, now, for wealth and influence, than remembered 
 hereafter, for the virtue which should have made these advan- 
 tages blessings of Providence to many, rather than ministers 
 of vanity to a few. Mr. Adams' humility, like Washington's, 
 made him an eminent exception to this rule. 
 
 Humble however as was that great spirit, it was not without 
 a becoming and ample measure of the pride which is the proper 
 companion of humility. An intense self respect was the pre- 
 siding genius in all his intercourse with life; and while he never 
 infringed upon the rights of others, he never failed to vindi- 
 cate the honour which was the central principle of his own. 
 In whatever position of his long career he found himself the 
 object of attack, his ever ready pen or voice was instant, in 
 exposing its injustice, and sometimes terrible in its inflictions 
 upon the temerity that, dared to make it. 
 
 Quick, however, and ardent, as was the temperament which 
 came with such power in aid of self respect to chastise inso- 
 lence, equally quick and ardent was the feeling of forgiveness 
 that always attended the acknowledgment of wrong. In 
 the very storm of passion, lashed into fury by unprovoked in- 
 justice, the amiable spirit would peer out in the very midst, on 
 the first appearance of honourable concession. The hurricane 
 might have done some mischief, but the bow that after it 
 rested on the sky, made it all to be forgotten. 
 
 .. Adams could never have fought a duel, or given his 
 countenance to one. His honour was in the keeping of his 
 own consciousness, and quite too sacred a thing to commit to 
 the keeping of the world around him. Courngc with him was 
 a virtue, to be exercised in overcoming trials, not a vice, to be 
 instrumental in promoting evil passions. It was a cool virtue, 
 designed to prescribe limits to indulgence, not to stimulate 
 license to it. Instant resentment of injury was natural on the 
 principle of selfdefence, but deliberate revenge was unnatural 
 because not necessary to it. His opinion as to what was 
 right in such a matter, was between himself and his own sense 
 of moral obligation; and not between himself and a third 
 pgrty, viz: the world, which could have no claims upon him, in 
 
u 
 
 that regard, except so far as he might acknowledge them. Hia 
 courage was of the kind that emboldened him, on all occasions, 
 to do what he believed to be his duty, not of the kind that 
 would yield to a false public opinion, that would require him to 
 violate it. Besides, life with him, was a thing not to be trifled 
 with. It was not given by him, and he had no right to take it 
 away, either from himself or from his fellow. lie never could 
 ;et the eternal law of right, and could therefore never sub- 
 mit himself to the government of any conventional law of 
 
 wrong. 
 
 In his personal bearing, Mr. Adams was eminently plain 
 and unostentatious. He felt that however his attainments 
 and his virtues might procure him the respect and defer- 
 ence of others, they yet gave him no superior rights over 
 his fellow men as his inferiors. Every other man was born, 
 equally with himself, to the same natural rights o{ earth, air, 
 light, and water; and however much others may have been 
 wanting in the qualities that distinguished him,, that deficiency 
 gave him no right to trample upon them. His power was net 
 in their weakness, but in his own strength. His influence to 
 protect and defend others, was the necessary incident of 
 his ability to do so; not the effect of their condition that 
 required it. Thus was Mr. Adams, in the truest sense, a 
 Democrat — ami being so in tact, he was never heard to make 
 professions of it. Having the reality of the character, he had 
 no occasion for the sham; and while he steadilj i it out, 
 
 in all the relations of his life, he left to others, who were de- 
 ficient in the fact, to supply the absence of it, by substituting 
 the profession for the practice. 
 
 .Mr. Adam;* habits of life were proverbially exact. He did 
 everything by system; and therefore, every thing he under- 
 took to do, he did completely. He never forgot his appoint- 
 ments; because his system required that he should always 
 remembei them. No man ever lost time in waiting for him. 
 If he had lived for this lesson alone, his service to his race 
 would have been worth the life and should have immortal 
 it. The miserable, time-killing, business murdering maxim, 
 that -it is eleven until it is twelve," had no countenance from 
 
25 
 
 him; and he would lose the hour in waiting for others, rather 
 than afford them, by following their example, the poor apology 
 that his own fault in common with theirs had justified their 
 delinquency. 
 
 Mr. Adams was exact in the divisions of his time; and in 
 their appropriation to specific objects. He rose before day, 
 the year round. He had an hour for exercise, for company, 
 for miscellaneous reading, for devotion, and for amusement; 
 and the duties of one hour were never permitted to interfere 
 with those of another. His precise arrangement in this par- 
 ticular was never interrupted by any change in his official 
 stations. The duties of these had their proper assignment of 
 time, as occasion might suggest. While Secretary of State, 
 notwithstanding the multiplicity, difficulty and vast responsi- 
 bility of his duties, he never permitted another to do what he 
 could perform himself. His instructions to Ministers abroad, 
 his correspondence with Foreign Ministers at home, and his 
 Reports to Congress 1 , were all written out with his own hand. 
 The time that was leisure to him from the range of appoint- 
 ments which his system prescribed, and from his official duties, 
 was appropriated to the composition of his Diary, to the 
 making of his own almanacs, to calculations in Astronomy, to 
 the study of the natural sciences and of general Literature; 
 and at proper seasons of the year, he was seen at early morn, 
 traversing the woods and meadows in pursuit of botanical, 
 mineralogical and other scientific specimens, which he would 
 carry home in his pockets for the young ladies of his family io 
 classify, arrange and copy. All this exhibits a life of Hercu- 
 lean labour; and explains the vastness of his intellectual acqui- 
 sitions, as well as the amazing variety of them. 
 
 His habits in the particulars referred to, were never inter- 
 mitted. They lasted to his dying day; and making his life a 
 unit by unbroken continuity, there remained with them, in 
 extreme old age, the freshness of his early years, and the 
 unimpaired tenacity of all his faculties of mind. But his 
 Herculean labours were not hard work. They were his 1 
 and he could not have lived without them. They were his 
 happiness; and having become a second nature to him by 
 
 D 
 
2C 
 
 force of the habits that made them easy, he could no more' 
 have dispensed with them, than most people could have per- 
 formed them. Hence, a most encouraging lesson to all who 
 would learn from such a character, viz: that good habits, once 
 thoroughly formed, arc as hard to dispense with as bad ones. 
 Another lesson still: that to every man, life may be made a 
 really serious and earnest thing, if he chooses to moke it so; 
 instead of an occasion fur trifling and folly, in mockery of the 
 God that rave it. As Mr. Adams lived, so should all men 
 live; and so all men could, if they would. 
 
 1 have said that Mr. Adams was born and educated among 
 the most exalted. Happy for himself, happy for his country 
 and his age that he was so. But not so happy would it have 
 been with most men. It is not common for the children of the 
 rich and the renowned, to perpetuate the wealth and the hon- 
 ours of their fathers. There is a vanity that puflfe up in such 
 cases, much more prevalent in the world, than the good sense 
 which discerns the value of opportunity, and the high principle 
 which su^ests and directs to the cultivation of it. What was 
 the making of Air. Adams, would have been the spoiling of 
 ninety-nine out of a hundred in a similar situation. He had 
 genius enough to make him the lit recipient of the influences 
 that surrounded him. without the folly which would lead him 
 to suppose that he might become a great man, without availing 
 himself of them. The pride of his boyhood was, not that his 
 father was one of the greatest of the great men of his time, 
 but that the possession of such a father afforded him the 
 means of profiting by a glorious example. The career of his 
 manhood was, not in the vain assumption, that another's cap- 
 ital of honour, was, through him, perpetuating the glory of a 
 family, but that his own deep consciousness of individual 
 power, was leading him onward to the making of a glory of 
 his own. The sublime assurance of his old age. that his time 
 in this world had not been wasted, in honest effort to do that 
 which should give added honour to a name, referred not to the 
 fact, that a father had filled the Presidency before him, but. 
 to that other fact, that himself had wrought out a career of 
 usefulness and virtue, that had filled historv with his acts, and 
 
27 
 
 , iven assurance, that history would award to him the appro- 
 bation, that properly belonged to them. If I am not mistaken, 
 this is one of the most interesting features in the character of 
 Mr. Adams. It presents, not merely opportunity improved, 
 but temptation resisted: not merely powers cultivated and 
 exercised, but the blandishments of ease and pleasure, which 
 would have counselled an avoidance of labour, thoroughly 
 eschewed. It was the triumph of virtue, over the tendencies 
 that would have overcome it. It was the glorious outcoming 
 of an exalted character, from the poisonous vanities that would 
 have choked its earlv growth. 
 
 It is now but a little more than four years, since the great 
 man of whom I have been speaking, was here, in our very midst. 
 His journey to us through our State, was the triumphal march 
 of Cicero from Brundusium to Rome. Every where in his 
 progress, the old and the young, the rich and the poor, all 
 classes and complexions, turned out to greet his coming. The 
 offering was one of a generous and loving people, to a sage of 
 near a century, whose character was at last appreciated, and 
 felt by all to be entitled to honours without bounds. Time 
 had been, when the spectacle of multitudes, assembled to do 
 homage to a President, made no impression on his heart, 
 because he knew, that respect for official station, might have 
 no reference to the man. But now, it was for the man only, 
 that those shout? went up to Heaven, and his emotions were 
 unutterable. He felt, that his reputation was redeemed, from 
 the obloquy that had so bitterly assailed the career of his 
 middle years, and that his old age had finally found a refuge 
 and a resting place, in those affections of the people which his 
 services and virtues had so well earned. 
 
 He came a thousand miles at the age of seventy-six, at an 
 inclement season of the year, at the very risk of life, to tes- 
 tily his interest in the cause of science. He came to assist in 
 the foundation of a work, which the honour of the nation had 
 associated with his hopes, for more than half his life. His deep- 
 est convictions were fixed, in the importance of the underta- 
 king, and his deepest heart engaged, in] the occasion which 
 gave the opportunity of its fulfillment; and when, in spite of 
 
23 
 
 the rains that descended, and the storm that howled around 
 him, he had done the work which he came to do, his sublime 
 exclamation was, that if, in coming generations, his posterity 
 should be curious to learn the associations of his name in the 
 history of his age, it was his hope, that the page which should 
 record his laving of the corner stone of the Cincinnati Obser- 
 vatory, would be read with more pride and regarded with 
 more honour, than that which should tell that he had been Pres- 
 ident of the Republic. Years on years shall roll away, gen- 
 eration after generation shall come and go, and the name 
 recorded on that stone on yonder hill top, shall bear testimony 
 to the man, to the virtues that made him great, and to his love 
 of the glorious science which made him a companion of the 
 stars ! 
 
 A rare life, and a still rarer character, have been the subjects 
 of our meditations and our eulogy. Bat it is the immutable, 
 everlasting ordinance of God, that what is of earth in man, 
 shall die. No exception of lofty character, unspotted virtue, 
 or exalted usefulness, shall save a human being from the tomb; 
 and he whose memory we now honour, in common with all 
 who have gone before him of his race, has gone to his final 
 rest; and the light of his manly presence has been extinguished 
 from the world forever. His death was in keeping with his 
 life. The one was devoted to his country, the other in his 
 country's capitol, released the spirit from the bonds of earth. 
 The place that witnessed his noblest deeds, crowned with glory 
 the termination of them. One State of our glorious Union 
 had the distinction of his birth: all America appropriately 
 shared in the crowning distinction of his death. The day, too, 
 most hallowed by a grateful people as the birth-day on earth 
 of its ever honoured father, will hereafter be remembered) i 
 as the birth-day in Heaven, of its ever honoured son. 
 
 Full of years, full of virtues and full of honours, the portals 
 of the grave have closed overall that is mortal of our deceased 
 fellow citizen and friend; and no eye shall sec him.no car shall 
 hear him, no voice shall greet him any more. Domestic affec- 
 tion, weeps the departure of the master of the household. The 
 friendly circle, mourns the loss of the spirit which hns so long 
 
89 
 
 been its animating genius: the nation, so long honoured by his 
 name, so long benefitted by his services, so long illustrated by 
 his character, sheds honourable tears upon his grave. But the 
 memory of the man goes not upon the bier that bears his body 
 to its kindred dust. The services of the Statesman, the lessons 
 of the Patriot Sage, the example of the Christian Man, shall re- 
 main still with us, in the ever enduring history that will record 
 them; — and though that heart shall no longer warm us by its 
 sympathies, that mind, no longer inform us by its counsel, and 
 that voice no more rouse us to the work of dutv, there still 
 shall continue with us, and, through us, with coming generations, 
 the bright memorial of one of Heaven's noblest works, which 
 shall teach the value of a virtuous life and the final certainty 
 cf its rewards. 
 
NOTE. 
 
 Mr. Adams' vote and speech upon the Embargo question in 1807, 
 are frequently referred to, not merely as political mistakes, but as in- 
 cidents, bearing upon the integrity of his public life, which it were de- 
 sirable should be forgotten. A few words will show that this is 
 utterly unjust. 
 
 As to the vote, Mr. Adams had his opinion and exercised it, as olh- 
 ers did theirs, and as he had a right to do. Perhaps it was unwise; 
 but I cannot understand on what principle it can be regarded as dis- 
 honest. True, he separated from his party; but this fact is quite as 
 strong to prove his freedom from party shackles, as treason to his duty. 
 It has been said that his vote was intended as an offering to Mr. Jef- 
 ferson in the hope of office irom him. This, however, is mere con- 
 jecture — more easily said than proved: — at any rate, he never re* 
 ceived an office from Mr. Jefferson, though the latter remained in 
 the Presidency more than a year after the vote was given. The fact 
 is, a strong party feeling at the moment, embittered by disappointment, 
 magnified an impeachment, perhaps well founded, of his judgment, 
 into an attack upon his virtue; and on that ground the matter stand-: — 
 well enough, perhaps, for party, but not well enough for truth. 
 
 As to the Speech, the whole question has arisen on Col. Pickering's 
 Report of it; the correctness of which, Mr Adams, in express terms, 
 denies. The words, as taken down by Col. Pickering, are these: — 
 "The President has recommended the measure on his high responsibil- 
 ity; / would not consider, I would not deliberate, I would act. 
 Doubtless the President possesses such further information as will 
 justify the measure." Now, of this Report, Mr. Adams, in an appen- 
 dix to a republication in the Baltimore Patriot of 1S-J 1. of his letter to 
 Mr. Otis in 1808, defending his vote upon the Embargo question, 
 s the following language : 
 
31 
 
 "It \Vas impossible to have framed a charge more destitute of 
 foundation; more easily refuted, or more open to the chastisement of 
 severe retaliation, yel I took no particular notice of it, nor shall I now 
 go further, beyond the simple declaration, that I niver expressed nor 
 felt the sentiment imputed to me by Mr. Pickering, than lo observe 
 that if I had uttered it and had been understood in the sense which he 
 has given to my words, it was his duty and the duty of every Senator 
 present, who t?b understood me, not only to have my words taken down 
 at the time, but instantly to have called me to order for using them. 
 
 * ••;- * v * * * * 
 
 "The error of Mr. Pickering's charge consists in his connecting my 
 expression of confidence in the recommendation of the Executive, 
 which I assigned as one of my reasons for agreeing to the act, with 
 my argument from the necessity of dispatch which was founded in 
 the nature of the act itself, and the portentous crisis of the times." 
 
 ZVow this language of Mr. Adams raises a direct issue — not of 
 veracity but of fact — between him and Col. Pickering. On which 
 of the two shall we rely? Col. Pickering, in the charge, or Mr. 
 Adams in the denial of it? Unquestionably Mr. Adams in the denial 
 of it. Their claims to confidence, as menwho would speak the truth, 
 must be admitted to be equal. But Mr. Adams speaks from knowl- 
 edge — Col. Pickering from impression. The one has the certainty 
 of consciousness and cannot be mistaken; — the other may have heard 
 imperfectly, or not have comprehended the full force of the language 
 used, and of course might be in error. Mr. Adams must be believed 
 as uttering a solemn truth about which he could not eir. Col. Pick- 
 ering must yield the point as one, in which, in the absence of Mr. 
 Adams' denial, he might honestly believe he had the right impression, 
 but to which, under no circumstances, could he positively affirm. 
 
 A word more: In that very work, in which Col. Pickering gives 
 his Report of Mr. Adams' speech — his "Review'' of the Cunning- 
 ham Correspondence — he has committed a very gross error upon a 
 point, on which, in the station he occupied, he should have been 
 exactly informed; and any inaccuracy in which, should justly impair 
 our confidence where doubts might arise in regard to the correctness 
 of other statements. In the 61st page of the "Review " referred to, 
 Col. Pickering says : " In a little more than a year after turning out as 
 the champion of the embargo, viz.: on the Fourth of March, 1809, 
 Mr. Madison ( it being the first day of his Presidency ) nominated 
 J. Q. Adams Minister Plenipotentiary to the Court of the Emperor 
 of Russia. The Senate put their negative on the nomination. But 
 Mr. Madison, having called a special meeting of Congress in the fol- 
 
lowing May, repealed the nomination, and by a change in some volt 
 the nomination was approved." Now it is true, that Mr. Madison, 
 on the Sixth (not Fourth) of March, 1809, did nominate Mr. Adams 
 for the mission to Rossia; but it is not true that " the Senate put 
 their negative on the nomination." They did not act upon the 
 nomination at all — but, on the contrary, on the 7th March, by a vote 
 of 17 to 15, they "Resolved, That in the opinion of the Senate it 
 was inexpedient at that time to appoint a Minister lrom the United 
 States to the Court of Russia." Again: It is true, that at the ex 
 session in the lollowing May. Mr. Madison re-nominated Mr. Adams 
 to the Russian mission ; but it is not true, that the nomination was 
 approved " by a •change in some votes.''' It was approved by the 
 very strong vote of 19 to 7, the two Senators from Massachusetts, 
 (Col. Pickering one of them,) the two from Connecticut, the two 
 from Delaware, and one from North Carolina voting against it. Now, 
 in the statement of Col. Pickering that the second nomination was 
 approved " by a change of some votes," it is quite evident, that he 
 intends to convey the idea, that the difficulty in obtaining the Senate's 
 approval of the nomination in the first instance, was personal with 
 Mr. Adams, and not public as connected with the question of the 
 expediency of the mission. Whether he was right in so intendii 
 let the facts of the record, as I have given them, speak. 
 
 I now owe it to myself to say, that in what I have above stated, I 
 make no attack upon the memory or character of Col. Pickering. I 
 have the highest reverence for both; and in this, the study of n 
 maturer years has only confirmed the lessons of my boyhood. Bu: 
 I would vindicate Mr. Adams' just fame from the effect of the Colo- 
 nel's inaccuracies ; and as the record proves him entirely out of the 
 way, in regard to the nomination to the Russian mission, the inference 
 is a fair one, that he might have been, and probably was, equally in 
 error, in resrard to the terms and meaning of Mr. Adams' Emhai . 
 speech. 
 
33 
 
 APPENDIX. 
 
 PROCEEDINGS OF THE BAR OF HAMILTON COUNTY. 
 
 At a meeting of the Bar of Hamilton County, Ohio, held in the 
 Court Room of the Superior Court, on the 28th of February, 18-18, 
 for the adoption of suitable measures in honor of the late John 
 Quincy Adams, Salmon P. Chase was called to the Chair, and Chas. 
 L. Telford appointed Secretary. 
 
 On motion, a committee of five, consisting of Messrs. R. M. 
 Corwine, W. R. Morris, Chas. L. Telford, Thos. J. Gallagher, and 
 W. M. Corry, was appointed to make the necessary arrangements to 
 carry into effect the object for which the meeting had been called, and 
 to report at an adjourned meeting on the 1st of March. 
 
 At an adjourned meeting of the Bar of Hamilton County, held at 
 the Court House on Wednesday, 1st of March, Mr. Chase resumed 
 the Chair, and Mr. King was appointed Secretary. 
 
 Mr. Telford, from the Committee formerly appointed to report 
 suitable marks of respect to the memory of the late John Quincy 
 Adams, made the following report, which was adopted : 
 
 Tribute of the Hamilton Comity Bar to the Memory of John 
 
 Quincy Adams. 
 
 The Bar of Hamilton County, while they unite with citizens of 
 every class in sympathy for the common public loss which has be- 
 fallen the country, in the death of John Quincy Adams, feel entitled 
 to pay a special tribute to his memory as a great Publicist and 
 Lawyer — to inscribe a name which has derived lustre from every 
 study, upon the roll of the American Bar. 
 
 A career of public service, so long, brilliant and various, as that 
 which has at last so suddenly closed, had a lit preparation in the study 
 of the Law ; and although the success and early distinction of a low 
 years' practice at the Bar have been lost in the splendor of public 
 service and renown, yet we are proud to trace the bias and the spirit 
 of the Profession, in that love ol Justice, of Liberty, and of Human 
 Rights, which crowns the labors and the honors of his later life. 
 
34 
 
 in the department of Public International Law, his fame and cer- 
 vices as a Lawyer were most conspicuous. In every grade of Diplo- 
 matic rank, as Minister abroad, Secretary of State, and President; as 
 the Representative of the People in Congress; as the Advocate of 
 the helpless captive at the Bar of the Supreme Court, he has illus- 
 trated the Political Jurisprudence of his age, and country, with a 
 classic pen, and with a forensic Power and Eloquence, not surpassed 
 in the Era of our great Revolutionary Names. 
 
 Resolved, That the Chairman of this meeting be instructed to 
 present to the Courts of this County, a copy of this tribute to the 
 memory of John Quincy Adams, with a request that it be entered 
 upon their respective journals. 
 
 Mr. Corwine, from the same Committee, repovted that William 
 Greene, Esq., had been invited by die Committee to pronounce an 
 Oration before the Bar on the Life and Character of Mr. Adams, at 
 such time as might suit his engagements, and that Mr. Greene had 
 accepted the invitation, and appointed Saturday, the "Joth of March 
 inst., as the time ; which report was approved and adopted. 
 
 On motion of Mr. Strait, the same Committee was continued to 
 make suitable arrangements. S. P. CHASE, Chairman. 
 
 Rufus King, Secretary. 
 
 Cincinnati, March 1, 1848. 
 William Greene, Esq.: 
 
 Dear Sir: — The Committee appointed by the 
 Bar of Hamilton County, to make suitable arrangements to show 
 respect to the memory of the late John Quincy Adams, have directed 
 me to ask you to pronounce an Oration on his Life and Character be- 
 fore the Bar, at such time as will suit your earliest convenience. We 
 trust it may be agreeable to you to consent to accept the invitation, 
 and shall be pleased to hear from you at an early day. 
 Yours truly, 
 
 R. M. CORWIXE, Chair n Committee. 
 
 Civ iv N ati, March 1st., 18 IS. 
 l) far Sir.— Though i have decided misgivings of my ability 
 to do anything like proper justice to the occasion, I, nevertheless, 
 accept the invitation of the Committee of the Bar, lo pronounce the 
 proposed Oration on the Life and Character of John Quincy Adams, 
 as communicated to me by your note of this date. 1 would name Sat- 
 urday, the '25th of the present month, as the day on which the duly 
 shall be performed. 
 
 With great regard, 
 
 1 am truly yours, 
 
 \\. GREENE. 
 
 R, M. i "iiu i\i . Esq., 
 
 Chairman of the Committer. Sfi .. A> , 
 
35 
 
 Bar cere mo n j es 
 
 IN HONOR TO 
 
 JOHN UUINCY ADAMS 
 
 .1 ARCH 25, 
 
 AT THE COLLEGE HALL. 
 
 ORDER OF EXERCISES. 
 
 The members of the Bar, Judges of the Courts, and Ministers of 
 the Gospel, with the Orator of the Day, assembled at 7 o'clock, 
 P. M., in the Merchants' Exchange, whence they proceeded, in the 
 order designated by the Committee of Arrangements, to the Hall, and 
 occupied the first twelve seats in front of the rostrum. 
 
 Music— BY THE BRASS BAND. 
 
 Prayer— BY THE REV. DR. RICE. 
 
 Oration— BY WILLIAM GREENE, Esq. 
 
 Music. 
 
 Prayer and Benediction— BY THE REV. C. B. PARSONS. 
 
39 R 
 

 
 
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