YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 3 9002 07654 3769 Cb6238 YALE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY Bought with the income of the NOAH and JARED LINSLY FUND AN ORATION LIFE AND CHARACTER JOHN QUINCY ADAMS: DELLIVERED BEFORE THE CITIZENS OF CINCINNATI, On the twenty-second day of March, 184a BY TIMOTHY WALKER. P UB LIS BED BY REQ UES T. CINCINNATI: J. F. DESILVER. GAZETTE OFFICE WRIGHT, FISHER & CO., PRINTERS. 1848. YALE ORATION. I ENTER, fellow citizens, upon the performance of the part assigned to me in these solemnities, with a painful consciousness of my ina bility to give utterance to what all of us feel to be due to the occa sion. I have found it impossible to put my own conceptions into words. How then can I hope to give adequate expression to yours? For what is the event we thus commemorate? The angel of Death, ever hovering over these regions of mortality, to execute his dread commission from the Almighty Throne, has struck down the most aged, the most venerable, and the most illustri ous of our public servants, John Quinct Adams. Dust thou art, and unto dust shall thou return. This inexorable fiat, pronounced upon all the human race, has taken him from among the living. So far as such a man can die, he died on the morning of the 23d of February last. To him, in his last sublime and solemn words, that was the end of earth, and he loas content! His work was done, his au dit closed, and the balance struck for time and for eternity. Blessed are the dead that die in llie Lord; for they rest from their labors, and their works do follow them! Yes, that weather-beaten, toil-worn frame now rests from its labors, in the last long repose; while the ever liv ing soul, fraught with riches of wisdom seldom acquired on earth, has winged its flight to the Father of Spirits. But why are we therefore met here together? What is this man's death to us? Was he of our kindred? No. Few of us, per chance, had ever spoken to him. With none, probably, had he con sanguinity. Nor is it simply because another man has died — ano ther drop been taken from the great ocean of existence; for death, as Hamlet says, is common — the most common as well as certain of all events. Oftener than our own pulse throbs, the pulse of some other mortal, somewhere on the globe, ceases to throb. Every second of time bears witness to the extinction of some human life. What then is a single unit in this mighty sum? More are born than die; and the procession of the generations goes on increasing. What then is this particular death to us? Did it occur prema turely? No. The deceased was in his eighty-first year — far past the ordinary goal The shock of corn was fully ripe for the harvest. It was time for such a man to die. He had fulfilled his great mis sion, and was waiting for his recall. And the place — who would have wished such a man to die else where? He fell in the nation's capitol, at his post of duty, in the very act, probably, of rising to make some motion. As the great Chatham fell, so he fell — surrounded by his peers, if peers he had — say rather, surrounded by the nation's representatives. He fell then in the place where such a man should fall — where, it is said, he had expressed a wish to fall. The veteran warrior died on his battle field. The manner too — what else could have been desired? No driv elling decrepitude — no lingering agony — no gradual sinking into a a second childhood. The giant oak was struck down at once by a bolt from heaven. None had to gaze upon a slowly crumbling ruin. None will remember him as a worn out imbecile. He was all him self, while conscious of being. He died then as he might well have prayed to die. And, whether we look to the time, place, or manner, we may borrow the language of an ancient author whom he loved to quote — Felix non vitae lantum darilate, sed etiam opportunitate mortis.* Had it been the will of Heaven to impress our rulers at this momentous crisis in our public affairs — when matters of such grave and solemn import were depending before them with the deepest possible sense of the awful responsibilities under which they were acting — what event so suitable as this? Their Nestor struck down in their very presence — their Patriarch summoned from their midst before the bar of Jehovah! The day too was almost the very one to have been wished. There are two days, singled out by Americans from all the year as hal lowed days. On one our National Independence was born, and the elder Adams and Jefferson died; on the other, Washington was born and the younger Adams did all but die. For although he breathed' until the next morning, yet the conscious being was dead. Say then that this birthday of Washington has acquired new sacred ness from the death of Adams. death Fortunate not only in the renown of his life, but also in the circumstances of his Are we then met to grieve at such a death as this? Not certainly for the sake of the departed. For we know from his own dying lips that he was content. Through life he had ever " walked at tended by the strong siding champion Conscience." Probably no man ever looked back upon so long, so high, and so varied a career, with less to regret in the calm and solemn retrospect. Errors he doubtless had committed, for he was human. But I am one of those, who, upon a careful scrutiny of his life, though often differing from him in opinion, are constrained to believe that his intentions were always honest. And I have often thought, that were I called upon to single out, from all the great men of our day, the one who came nearest to the idea of Horace — Integer vitae, scelerisque purus — de scribing a man of pure integrity and blameless life — or to that which Macbeth is made to express of Duncan, who " had borne his facul ties so meek," and "been so clear in his great office" — or to that which Cardinal Wolsey is made to paint by way of exhortation to Cromwell — " Be just and fear not; " Let all the ends thou aim'st al, be thy Country's, " Thy God's, and Truth's.: then if thou fall's!, 0 Cromwell, " Thou fall's! a blessed martyr" — I say, were I called upon to single out the man of our times, who most nearly realized these ideals, I should unhesitatingly pronounce the name of John Quincy Adams. But this was not the only source of his content. He was more than simply an honest man. He was, in the deepest and highest sense of the word, a Christian — in practice as well as faith a Chris tian. As the sublime precepts of Christianity had been his guide through life, so its blessed promises became his hope in death. Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, yet will I fear no evil; for Thou art with me; Thy rod and Thy staff, they comfort me. Immortality was to him, not a philosophic speculation, but a revealed fact, a glorious certainty. He felt as sure of life be yond the grave, as of life this side of it. What then was death to him? Only the commencement of a higher life — the entrance upon an immediate communion with kindred spirits of all ages and climes — an introduction to those great and good men of the past, whom until now he knew only by their undying renown, as benefactors of their race, handed down by history for perpetual examples — but, most of all, an admission to the awful presence of his Father, and our Father, his God, and our God! " Nothing is here for tears, nothing to wail " Or knock the breast; no weakness, no contempt, "Dispraise or blame; nothing but well and fair, " .\nd what may quiet us in a death so noble." Shall we then mourn the loss which our country has sustained? Such is not my feeling. From the first announcement until now, the predominant emotion of my bosom has been, profound gratitude to Heaven for giving us such a man, and sparing him so long. I lose my regret that he is dead, in my deep joy that he has lived: and this I believe to be the general sentiment of his countrymen. Now, for the first time, does the priceless value of such a man begin to be appreciated. During the latter part of his life, he probably had as few enemies as any great man ever had. But in politics, party spirit perversely tinges every thing with its own hues. No eminent statesman can be without zealous opponents, as well as partizans. The one detract, as much as the other exaggerate; and the truth is but dimly seen, if seen at all, through this turbid medium. But death disperses the mist, dispels the clouds; and through the clear atmosphere which surrounds their memory, the dead are seen truly, as they could not be while living. Already has this been most beautifully exemplified in the case of Mr. Adams. The most glow ing and heart-felt eulogies, in both Houses of Congress, came fi'om those who had been his most determined political opponents. Party animosities were all forgotten; the politician was merged in the higher character of the man; and the warm sympathies of every generous heart gushed forth from nature's purest fountains. O this bitter party spirit! It should be the cause of infinite good, by the strict espionage it exercises over our public servants, in order to counterbalance the immense evil it occasions, by smothering (thank God, not extinguishing!) the noblest emotions of magnanimity and generosity. But death breaks down these party barriers; dissolves this incrustation which has hardened round the heart; and in the eye of man, as in the eye of God, the just on earth become per fect in Heaven. This occasion, then, is not one of mourning, for the sake either of the dead or the living; but rather one for the expression of fer vent gratitude, and chastened joy, for the precious example of such a life and death — for the lessons of true wisdom it is designed to teach, — and for the devout and lofty aspirations which it should ex cite. In this spirit let it be improved by us. The history of the life of Mr. Adams is so closely interwoven with that ol his country — for in fact the one was nearly coeval with the other — that any thing like a biography from me would be a work of supererogation. Nevertheless we must glance at some of the more prominent points, in order to comprehend the full dimensions of such a man, and delineate at least the outlines of his remarkable char acter. John Quincy Adams was born at Braintree, now Quincy, Mas sachusetts, on the 11 th of July, 1767, just on the eve of the great struggle for Independence. The first sounds he heard were of re sistance to Tyranny; the first ideas he formed were of the sacred ness of Liberty. The Rights of Man formed the fireside theme of his parents; and such parents! — truly a matchless pair! But on them I must not dwell, further than to say, that if the elements of a lofty character could be hereditary, the son would have inherited them by a double descent: for his father was not greater among the men of that day, than was his mother among the women. Both were pre-eminent in an age of greatness. Fortunate child, to have received his first lessons from such teachers. Fortunate parents, to have had such a child to teach! And rare as fortunate! The instance of the elder and younger Pitt at once occurs to us; but where shall we find another parallel? In what other tomb do the ashes of such a father and son sleep side by side? From the age of eleven to that of eighteen, the son was, for the most part, abroad with his father, in his successive missions to France, Holland, and England, where he enjoyed the benefit of the best schools in Europe, and was a close and devoted student. While only fourteen , he was Private Secretary to Francis Dana, our Min ister to Russia — a case of precocious ability almost without exam ple. In all these places, his position necessarily brought him into acquaintance with all the great men of the day; and in London, he had the inestimable advantage, at that impressible age, of listening to some of the most splendid efforts of Pitt, Fox, Burke, and Sheri dan. These seven years were emphatically his forming period. To no youth, perhaps, did it ever occur, to have such rich and various opportunities for a complete and thorough education, as he now en joyed. And he made the most of tbem, and then and there laid the foundation of a scholarship so nearly universal, that, in regard to the wonderful diversity of his erudition, it may well be doubted whether, at the time of his death, the world contained his superior. Without enlarging upon this topic, I would, once for all, point your attention to the prodigious depth and variety of his learning, as one of the most unique features in his character — so very little of the vast field of knowledge did he leave unexplored. And now, at the age of eighteen, he returns from Europe, a fin ished man in all but years. Entering an advanced class in Harvard 8 University, he was graduated at twenty, with distinguished honors. This was in the memorable year 1787 — the year of the formation of our national Constitution, and almost the very day of the enact ment of that celebrated Ordinance, which formed the first law of this North Western Territory. Think of this fact; for what in the history of the world's progress is like it? John Quincy Adams was a college graduate before the Federal Constitution was finished, and while the State of Ohio was an unbroken wilderness! — that State, which, in 1843, when he for the first time saw it, at the age of seventy-six, made his journey through it more than a Roman ova tion — so deep was the veneration, and so fervent the love of its two millions of inhabitants for the patriot sage. Of that visit Mr. Adams has often since spoken, as one of the most gratifying events of his life. He had once urged Congress in vain to build " a light-house of the skies;" for there were Constitutional scruples. He came here to lay the corner stone of one — the first in the world erected on private subscription — against which there could be no Constitutional scruples. From the desk where I now speak, he delivered his last formal Discourse.* And Mount Adams, — so called for him — a name now thrice hallowed by his death, looking down upon this fair city at its base, will keep his name in the perpetual remembrance of our citizens to the latest posterity — Clarum et venerabile nomen gentibus, Et multum nostras quod proderat urbi. t The next seven years, from the age of twenty to twenty-seven, were devoted to the study, and, to a very limited extent, the prac tice of law. His preceptor was the late Chief Justice Parsons, then at the head of the Massachusetts bar, and afterwards regarded by the profession as the American Coke. And such was the opin ion of his acquirements in jurisprudence, made in this short period, that in 1811, while in Russia, he received from Madison an appoint- * How strikingly applicable to himself are the concluding words of that last Dis course : "Man issues from the hand of his Maker a frail and imperfect being. His life be gins in helpless infancy, and closes with the clods of the valley. Evils, physical, moral, and intellectual, beset his path from the cradle to the grave, and warn him that his condition here on earth is a state of probation to fit him for a fairer and better world. Still, in wending his toilsome way, every step in the progreps ot improve ment in his condition, approximates him to the boundary where sorrow and grief are unknown, and where his spirit finds that which was denied him on earth. In pursuit of happiness, were his hands to be manacled and tied? How absurd' this question must appear to you! Yet read the history of your race and see!" t A name renowned and venerable among the nations, and which has greatly ben efited our city. ment to the Supreme Bench of the United States, which he saw fit to dedine. On a recent occasion, the case of the Amistad slaves, in 1841, he appeared as an advocate before that Court, where, thirty years before, he had refused to sit as Judge. And how eloquently and triumphantly he there vindicated the rights of man, down-trod- den in these poor slaves, you all have heard. That high tribunal never witneised a scene of greater interest, than when he pro nounced the peroration of that speech — when he appealed to that Court as a Court of " Justice" — Justice as defined two thousand years ago to be " the constant and perpetual will to secure to every one his own right" — Justice, we may add, as illustrated by his own righteous life. After one of the most massive arguments ever pro nounced in that arena of great efforts, he there took a final leave of that Court and Bar, where his name had been enrolled as an attor ney in 1804, and where he had once before appeared as an advo cate in 1809, by paying a thrilling and beautiful tribute to the vir tues of their iilustiious dead. In 1794, at the age of twenty-seven, he entered upon that public official career, which for the last fifty-four years occupied all his energies. In that year, he was appointed by Washington, Minister to the Netherlands, a post to which he was recommended by Jef ferson, who had made his acquaintance as a youth in Paris. But probably the immediate cause of this appointment was the publica tion of some articles signed " Marcellus,^^ known to be from his pen, upon those infamous appeals, made to the people of this then infant Republic, by the French Minister, Genet, wi(.h the design of em broiling this country in the frightful scenes of the first French Revo lution; in which he foreshadowed that profoundly wise neutral policy, which Washington afterwards pursued. For several years he re mained abroad on diplomatic business. For Washington again ap pointed him Minister to Portugal, just at the close of his administra tion; but before he reached Lisbon, he received fi'om his father the appointment of Minister to Prussia, and afterwards that of Commis sioner to negotiate a commercial treaty with Sweden. Shortly after his return to the United Stales, in 1801, he was elected to the Senate of Massachusetts; in which body he had been but a short time, when he was elected to the Senate of the United Slates. While a member of that body, he was appointed Professor of Rhetoric and Oratory in Harvard University; and in the recess delivered a course of Lectures to thronged audiences, which have since been published in two octavo volumes, and evince a thorough 2 10 mastery of the theory of that art, which he has since so signally illustrated in practice. While in the Senate, he gave an early proof of that moral firmness which has since so remarkably characterized his whole career. He took a course upon the Embargo question, which subjected him to the censure of the Ma.ssachusetts Legisla ture; whereupon he at once resigned his seat, nearly a year before the expiration of his term. But no sooner was Madison installed in the Presidential chair, than he selected Mr. Adams for the mis sion to Russia. During the four years of his residence at St. Pe tersburg, he is believed to have exerted an important agency in those mighty movements to check the career of Napoleon towaids uni versal dominion, which resulted in his exile to St. Helena; and to such a degree did he acquire the respect and confidence of Alexan der, as to induce that potentate to offer his mediation between Great Britain and the United States, to terminate the then pending war. He was shortly after placed at the head of the Commission to ne gotiate the treaty of peace which was concluded at Ghent, in 1814. The next year he was appointed Minister to England; where he re mained until called home, in 1817, to take the head of Monroe's Cabinet, as Secretary of State; which place he filled during the whole of that administration.. At its close, there being no election by the popular vote, he was elected to the Piesidency by the House of Representatives. At the end of the first term, failing to be re elected, like his great father before him, he retired, in 1829, to the shades of Quincy. After the repose of a year, as a private citizen, he was nine limes successively elected to represent his native Dis trict in Congress. From that post his Heavenly Father called him home; and the blessings of twenty millions of his countrymen have followed his emancipated spirit to the mansions of eternal rest. Well done, good and faithful Servant. When shall we look upon thy like again? Who, of these twenty millions, can fill the place which thou hast filled, or do the work which thou hast done? Enter thou into the jot of tht Lord. I have made the foregoing sketch as brief as possible, that we might have a few moments to dwell upon some of the more promi nent traits of this singular character, not yet adverted to. In surveying such a life as has been sketched, one of the first things whicn strikes the mind ie, the astonishing amount of labor performed. I doubt if more work was ever crowded into a single human life. I speak now of quantity merely, and this is Herculean. There is scarcely a court in Europe, whose archives do not contain 11 records of his doings, evidenced by his autograph. And here, at home, he has been intimately connected with every important national movement for half a century. How then was he able to achieve so much? Did his mind conceive, or his hand execute, more rapidly than others? Far from it. What seems so like a miracle, was the simple effect of incessant application, directed by the most rigid discipline. From youth to old age, all his time was employed — the minutes, no less than the hours. Not a fragment was wasted. He was Ihe most industrious man I have ever read of. An ancient sage grieved that he had lost a day. He had seldom cause to grieve at the loss of an hour. So constantly was he occupied, even when seeming to be idle, that many considered him to be cold, dull, and saturnine. While the truth is, that his mind was, at such moments, in a state of fervid action, working up the mtiterials of previous enquiry. This habit often made him seem alone in the midst of a crowd. But let his attention be attracted from surrounding trivialities, by some great or grave matter, and the flashing of his eye at once told you that his mind was wide awake. In a word, my belief is, that the true secret of his vast attainments in almost every branch of knowledge— so vast and so various, in art, literature, and science, as to render him a kind of intellectual vampire — is to be sought in the fact, that his mind was intensely active, for a greater portion of every day, throughout a very protracted life, than that of any other eminent contemporary. But 1 began with speaking merely of the amount and variety of his public service; in respect to which, he confessedly stands alone among American statesmen, and probably amons; the statesmen of the world. 1 can think of but three in modern times, who at all approach him. These are Richelieu, Talleyrand, and Metternich. Excepting them, I can name no one, who has performed half as much. And these, I am glad to say, he resembled in hardly any other respect. And if from this quantity oi public service, we turn to the quality, the astonishment is not diminished. Whether we regard him as a foreign minister, a cabinet minister, a chief magistrate, a debater in Congress, or member of a committee, he has always shown himself a consummate master of whatever he undertook. One of his most remarkable attributes was thoroughness. Whatever his hands found to do, he did wilh all his might. He touched no subject which he did not exhaust. There was nothing superficial in any of his doings. This is the reason why he was so constantly in office; for he did not, as the modern practice is, solicit office. On the con- 12 trary, office always solicited him, because he was known to be the fittest man. To this remark, throughout the long list of his prefer ments, I believe there is no exception. I do not forget that he was once charged with using undue means to secure the Presidency — nor that this charge was made the pretext for threatening, " that if his administration should be as pure as that of the angels in heaven," it should be overthrown. But this charge has long since been pro nounced and admitted to be a "stale and loathed calumny;" while the ermine purity of that administration has now become a fact of history, looming out ever brighter as we recede from it; although the threat was executedl Tinrie would fail me to comment upon, or even to enumerate, the published writings of Mr. Adains — his state papers, orations, lec tures, essays, speeches, and arguments. Few men have left more enduring memorials, had we seen all now.* But there is reason to believe the greatest is behind. It is known that from the com mencement of his public life, he has kept a regular and copious Diary, in which he has noted down his impressions of men and events as they occurred. And when we consider the keenness of his sagacity, and the caustic power of his pen, we may safely anticipate from this Diary, when it shall see the light, such an intellectual treat as the world seldom enjoys. My belief is, that it will be seized upon wilh greater avidity than any work which has ever *I take from the Literary World the following list: Of the published writings of Mr. Adams, aside from his state paper's, official cor respondence, and speeches, which would make many volumes, the following may bo named : 1. Oration at Boston, 1793; 2. Answer to Paine's Rights of Man, 1793; 3. Ad dress to the Members of the Massachusetts Charitable Fire Society; 4. Letters on Silesia; 5. Letters on Silesia, 1804; 6. Inangural Oration at Harvard Colle.re, 1806; 7. Letters tn H. G. Otis, in R ply to Timothy Pickering, 1808; 8. Review of the Works of Fisher Ames, 1809; 9. Lectures on Rhetoric and Oratory, two volumes, 1810; 10. Report on Weights and Measures, 18-21; 11. Oration at Washington, 1821: 1-2. Duplicate Letters; the Fisheries and the Mississippi. 1822; 13. Oration to the Citizens of Quincy, 1831; 14. Oration on the Death of Jnmes Monroe, 1831; 15. Dermot McMorrosjh, or the Conquest of Ireland, 1832; 16. Letters to Edward Livingston, on Free Masonry. 1833; 17. Letters to Wm. L. Stone, on the Entered Apprentice's Oath, 1833; 18. Oration on the Life and Clia'acter of Lafavette, 1835; 19. Or.ition on the Life and Character of James Madison, 1836; 20. The Characters of Shakspeare, 1837; 21. Oration delivered at Newburyport, 1837; 22. Letters to his Constituenis of the Twelfth Cnnjressional District of Massachusetts, 1837; 23. The Jubilee of the Constitution, 1839; 24. A Discourse on Education, delivered at Braintree, 1840; 25. An Address at the Observatory, Cincinnati, 1843. Among the unpublished works of 'Mr. Adams, besides his Diary, which extends over half a century, and would proijibly make some two dozen stout octavos, are Memoirs of the Earlier Public and Private Life of John Adams, second President of the United States, in three volumes' Reports and Speeches on Public Affairs- Poems, including two new cantos of Dermot McMorrogh; n Translation of Oberon and numerous Essays and Discourses. We hope the accomplished son of the deceased statesman will cause a complete edition of all these works to be issued wilh as little delay as possible. 13 come from the American press. And O the secrets that book will tell! Let those burrowing politicians, who think they have effec tually covered up their tracks from public scrutiny, hide their dimin ished heads, when this Diary shall speak. For no denial or subter fuge will then avail. The world will believe what such a Witness wrote down at the time as fact, in spite of all contradiction; and the secret political history of the last fifty years, will come forth with the stamp of unquestioned authenticity. The manners of Mr-. Adams were the extreme of republican simplicity. He seemed, by his carriage, to be wholly unconscious that he was a great man. Meet him where you might, he exacted no deference; but treated all well-behaved persons as his equals. Even while President, he made his journeys with no parade what ever. He was habitually grave and serious in his demeanor; but among kindred spirits, when public cares did not press upon him, could unbend himself to the most genial and delightful companion ship. In mere fashionable society he took little or no interest, and often wore the appearence of entire abstraction. When in a talka tive mood, he had an inexhaustible fund of personal anecdote, which made his conversation as instructive as it was entertaining. But he never monopolized conversation, and required rather to be drawn out, than took the lead. For foppery and pretension of every sort, he had a supreme contempt, which he did not always entirely conceal ; yet he was as far as possible from being an ill-natured man. Modest merit he delighted lo find out and encourage. He never courted any one. While always ready to pay or receive a graceful and well deserved compliinent. he despised flattery, and would neither use nor suffer it. On the whole, his manners were rather the reverse of fascinating. But this is partly owing to the gi-ave and severe studies, which so absorbed his thoughts. And to make up for this, he was a sincere and earnest philanthropist— an ardent lover of his whole race. His occasional discourses are full of the spirit of human broth erhood. But it was for the oppressed, that his sympathies were most deeply excited. To injustice, under all forms, he was a stern, almost a vindictive foe; and his severe denunciations have led some to consider him a hard man— implacable in his enmities— and not sufficiently tempering justice wilh mercy. There may be some grains of trulh in this. He was born and reared under circum stances so auspicious, and had lead so pure a life, that he may not always have made a sufficient allowance for a less favored lot. Still was he a man of world-wide sympathies. He never hated men, but 14 only their hateful deeds. Had he left no memorials but those which demonstrate his deep compassion for the slave — always manifested with an austere regard, however, to the rights of the master secured to him by the Constitution — posterity would have no scruples in pronouncing him a philanthropist. For no mere politician would utter the words, and do the deeds, and bear the obloquy, which he has done — at least no politician of the most recent type ; — because the popular breeze does not yet set in that direction. We have seen that Mi'. Adams was educated for the Bar, but chiefly withdrawn from it at the end of seven years. And I have heard him express doubts whether his life would not have been happier, if he had remained in that profession. That he might have attained the highest rank, both as a Jurist and Advocate, there is no room to doubt. For a Jurist, he possessed a piercing discrimina tion, which seized at a glance the nicest distinctions; and a tena- ciousness of memory, which, coupled with his untiring industry, would have made his mind a perfect magazine of precedents. And for an Advocate, he possessed a copiousness of diction, which sum moned the best words at will; a clearness of method, which made his logic look like demonstration; a vividness of imagination, which could illuminate and enliven the darkest and dryest subjects; a power of invective, before which knavery must have quailed; and a weight of character, which always must have a commanding influence both with Judge and Jury. But why speculate on this point? Who has not heard of h\m as ^'- the old man eloquent?" It was, however, his destiny to become greatly conspicuous in con nexion with only the two highest branches of law — Constitu tional and International — and of these he was an acknowledged master. His views of the Constitution have been characterized as ultra liber al. Audit is true, I believe, that he did go farther, in this respect, than any other eminent statesman. Whether he was right or wrong in this, I shall not now enquire. If wrong, the error was at least a generous one. For most assuredly, if the words of the Constitu tion would warrant his construction — if there really were granted, by that instrument, to the federal government, the broad and sub stantive power to promote the ^'- general welfare^'' in all useful ways, — whether it be by constructing works of internal improvement, — or by creating and endowing a National University or Observatory — or by doing any other great and good thing, tending to the manifest benefit of the whole union, — and which the nation can never hope 15 to have from any other source — I say, most assuredly, such a con stitution would be a far more efficient and beneficent instrument for building up, and beautifying, and blessing a nation, than one which contained no such general power. And, may I not add, that such a constitution would be more worthy of the sages who framed it? For they were as patriotic as they were wise. ''Great were the hearts, and strong the minds, "Of those who framed, in high debate, "The immortal league of love that binds "Our fair, broad empire, State with State!'' But it was in the department of International Law, that Mr. Adams labored most; and here — though I wish to avoid all extrava gance of panegyric — I feel no scruple in saying, that he had no living rival. Before he had been engaged four years in Diplomacy, Washington spoke of him "as the most valuable public character we have abroad, and the ablest of all our diplomatic corps." If this were deserved then, what might not have been said, when he had more than quadrupled his diplomatic experience? The truth is, that so far as our International relations are made certain by treaties, they are, to a very great extent, the actual work of his hand; and so far as they remain unwritten, and resting upon those eternal principles of right, which are recognized throughout Christendom as the law of nations, it is enough to say, that these subjects have been pre-eminently the study of his life. As a Publicist, then, whether we regard his astonishingly minute acquaintance with the actual rela tions which have been established among the great powers of the world; or his profound study of those principles and precedents which must determine those relations in any future contingency not provided for by treaty — in either aspect, his fame will be as enduring as the nations themselves. But that portion of his life which I most love to contemplate, is the last seventeen years, during which he was a member of the lower house of Congress. When after a most brilliant public career of thirty-six years, during which he had successively filled nearly all the high offices in the gift of his country — when he had just left the highest elective office in the world, at the age of sixty-three, an age at which most men wish and need repose — when he condescended to step down from this proud eminence — give up the dignified retire ment in which the evening of his life might have glided so tranquilly away — take his place in that arena where embryo statesmen usually seek to flesh their maiden swords — and there, asking no favors on account of advanced age or past services, fight the battles of de- 16 bate, on equal terms, for seventeen years, with every champion who chose to encounter him, without once being overthi-own — this por tion of his life, having no siinilitude in that of any other American, to my mind, places a more than Corinlliian capital upon the already stately column of his glory. And when I think of the stormy times upon which our beloved country may now be entering, in which his venerable presence and counsel will be wanting, I cannot help recalling those strong lines by Scott upon the younger Pitt: " Hadst thou but lived, though stripp'd of power, " A watchman on the lonely tower, " Thy thrilling trump had roused the land, " When fraud or danger were at hand; " By thee, as by the beacon light, "Our pilots had kept course ariglit ; "As some proud column, though alone, " Thy strength had propp'd the tottering throne. "Now is the stately column broke, " The beacon liuht is quenched in smoke, " The trumpet's silver sound is still, " The warder tilent on the hill I " O think how, to hi'! latest clay, " When death, just hovering, claimed his prey, " Wilh Palinure's unaltered mond, " Firm at his dangerous post he stood ; " Each call for needful rest repell'd, " With dying hand the rudder held, "Till, in his fall, with fateful sway, " The steerage of the realm gave way." Another topic which I should be glad to dwell upon, but can onlv mention, is, his reverence for the freedom of opinion. This pr-e- cious right, which he always claimed for himself, he scrupulously respected in others. As was beautifully said by one of his eulogists in Congress, " He crushed no heart beneath the rude grasp of pro scription; he left no heritage of widows' cries and orphans' tears." This frightful doctrine of proscription for opinion's sake — so sure to make politicians hypocrites, and office holders slaves, and, therefore so fraught wilh danger to our liberties — finds no countenance in his great example. He recognized no party fealty which put fetters on the mind. Thought is free. What he thought, he would and did speak; and he trusted no m.m who would not do the same. I have already spoken of Mr. Adams as a Christian. I may here add that he was so from profound study. His critical knowledge of the Bible fell litde short of that of the most accomplished divines. In a letter to his son, written at St. Petersburgh in 181 1, and first published since his death, he says: "I have myself, for many years, made ita practice to I'ead through « the Bible once every year. * * My custom is, to read " four or five chapters every morning, immedialely after rising from 17 " my bed. It employs about an hour of my time, and seems to me " the most suitable manner of beginning the day. * * * In « what light so ever we regard it, [the Bible] whether with reference " to Revelation, to Literature, to History, or to Morality, it is an " invaluable and inexhaustible mine of knowledge and virtue." I have made these quotations to show the source to which he went for the wisdom which he evinced. Richelieu is represented to have said, "For private life, Scripture the guide; for public. Ma. chiavel." And this has been the acted, if not the uttered maxim, of many a statesman besides Richelieu. Is it not the prevailing maxim now, both with European and American statesmen? Do they not hold reasons of state, and reasons of right, to be different things? In a word, is the Bible the statesman's guide? Is the moral code of the politician the same which he himself would follow as a private citizen? Alas, we know that it is not. But with Mr. Adams there was no difference. In public as in private life, he always consulted the Bible, and never Machiavel. I do not, of course, mean to say that he always acted rightly. But he endeavoured so to act. He studied and he prayed so to act. This was not his profession merely, but his daily practice. He aimed to be a Christian states man. And I regard this as the resplendent glory of his life. No earthly consideration ever could or did make him swerve from what he thought to be his duty. For this I reverence him, and my reverence is all the deeper — amounting to hero-worship — because, in this respect, he stood almost alone. " Modern degeneracy had not reached him." He recognized no distinction between honesty and policy. To the wrong nothing could lure him — from the right nothing frighten him. Who does not remember, with a thrill of admiration, how that venerable old man — that white-haired public servant — when, in order to vindicate the sacred right of petition, he had offered one which was obnoxious to a fiery portion of the bouse, who forthwith poured upon him a whole vocabular)' of vile abuse, and even moved his expulsion — yes, moved the expulsion of John Quincy Adams from the House of Representatives, where he occupied a position as far above them, as the summit of Olympus is above the vale be neath; who does not remember how he stood there in the calm majesty of truth and justice, a moral Samson among Philistines — a Titan among Pigmies — immoveable as a rock, lashed by the angry surge smiling with that ineffable mixture of scorn and pity, which only the truly great can feel, at the puny efforts made to disgrace 3 18 him; and, at length, when the time to speak arrived, making one of those triumphant vindications of his conduct, which from that time forth forever has consecrated the right of every human being to be heard by a respectful petition. Not Ajax defying the storm — not Marius among the ruins of Carthage— not Socrates in his dungeon — not Cincinnatus, nor Coriolanus, contemning the rabble — not the Roman Senators in the presence of Brennus — may 1 say, not Paul before Agrippa — presented a scene for the painter grander than this. It was Right defying Might — Justice proclaiming its title to Supremacy — Faith fastening itself to the Rock of Ages — Truth vindicating its eternal sway. Tell me not of Chatham's hours of '• Supreme Dominion " over the House of Lords. Never was there an hour of dominion like this over a deliberative Assembly. Justum et tenacem propositi virum Non civium ardor prava jubentium, Non vultus instantis tyranni, Mente quatit solida. • Then and there did John Quincy Adams approve himself the moral hero of this age. To sum up, then, this very imperfect sketch of the life and char acter of John Quincy Adams, thus much, I think, may be truly said. In the beginning, Nature was most bountiful to him; for she gave him — all she had to give — a sound mind in a sound body. His oppor tunities for education at home and abroad, were the very best the world afforded. These great resources at the outset, he husbanded through life, as carefully as does a miser his gold; and thus laid up a mighty store of knowledge. Rocked in the cradle of the Revolution, he grew up an ardent devotee of Liberty; and, consistent through out, a determined opponent of Slavery. Called very early by Washington into public service, and found, on the first trial, to be competent and trustworthy, he could never thenceforth be spared from that service; and he filled all the high offices of his country so well, that it is difficult to name one who has filled either of them better. Reared from childhood to look to the Bible as the only sure guide to duty, his whole life, public and private, has been marked by the humility, integrity, justice, and truth of a Christian; and to the thoughtful observer exhibits a "daily beauty," by the side of which most other lives look "ugly." Acting always with upright intentions, he knew no fear but that of doing wrong; and through * A just man, and firm of purpose, whose solid soul could not be shaken, either by the threats of a mob, or the frowns of a tyrant. 19 many trials and vicissitudes, was always "faithful found among the faithless." Deeply sensible of the importance of time, he made the most of every moment; and judiciously governing all his appetites, he preserved his faculties in full vigor to a ripe old age. For all these reasons, the life which has just closed so gloriously for himself, while it has already been one of exceeding, almost unsurpassed use fulness to his country, should be in the future as an example and a model to us and to posterity — one of ever increasing usefulness and glory, so long as History shall be faithful to its highest trust. In conclusion — We are usually admonished that the most solemn lesson taught by such an event as this which we now commemorate, is " the nothingness of life" — " what shadows we are, and what sha dows we pursue." But I cannot so regard it. On the contrary, I have never been so profoundly and solemnly impressed with a con viction of the infinite importance which may be given to the life of man on earth, by a faithful and conscientious devotion of all its precious moments to the nurture and development of the soul's highest faculties. Who shall say that the life of John Quincy Adams was a shadow, pursuing shadows? If so, there is nothing substantial on earth — "nothing serious in mortality." But no: His great ex ample should teach us, more than ever before, to realize the true dignity of man, as conceived by the greatest of poets: "What a piece of work is man! How noble in reason! How infi nite in facultiesl In form and moving, how express and admirable! In action, how like an angel! In apprehension, how like a God!" And could that voice, now hushed in death, which often spoke in poetry on earth, now be heard from the grave, I could well imagine it to say — " Life is real ! Life is earnest ! " And the grave is not the goal ; " Dust thou art, to dust returnest, " Was not spoken of the soul. # » * » " In the world's broad field of battle, " In the bivouac of Life, " Be not like dumb, driven cattle, " Be a hero in the strife ! » « » * " Lives of great men all remind us " We can make our lives sublime, " And departing, leave behind us "Foot-prints on the sands of time ; " Foot-prints, that perhaps another, " Sailing o'er life's solemn main, " A forlorn and shipwrecked brother " Seeing, shall take heart again. 20 " Let us then be up and doing, " With a heart for any fate ; "Still achieving, still pursuing, " Learn to labor and to wait." And having thus spoken of the work to be done on earth, I could further imagine that voice to say, of a preparation for death — "So live, that, when thy summons comes lo join " The innumerable caravan, that moves " To the pale realms of shade, where each shall take " His chamber in the silent halls of death, " Thou go not, like the quarry-slavo at night, "Scourged to his dungeon; but, sustained and soothed " By an unfaltering trust, approach thy grave, " Like one who wraps the drapery of his couch " About him, and lies down to pleasant dreams." APPENDIX. The following is an abridged account of the proceedings which led to, and the ceremonies which accompanied the preceding Oration. TESTIMONIAL OF RESPECT TO MR. ADAMS. At a meeting of the citizens of Cincinnati, held at the Merchants' Exchange, on Monday evening, the 28th February, 1848, to consider what measures should be adopted expressive of the feelings of this community on the death of John Quincy Adams, Henry Starr was chosen President, and C. D. Coffin, Secretary. On motion of N. Guilford, seconded by W. Greene, it was Resolved, That a Committee of ten be appointed by this meeting, to report to an adjourned meeting, to be held at this place on Thursday evening next, the most proper proceedings to be taken by the citizens of Cincinnati, to express their sense of the public services of the late John Quincv Adams, and of the national loss occa sioned by his sudden death. And thereupon the President announced Mr. Guilford, Mr. Greene, Mr. Storer Mr. Walker, Mr. Burgoyne, Mr. 0. M. Mitchel, Mr. Matthews, Mr. G. Yeatmani Mr. Meader, and Mr. E. P. Langdon, that Committee. And the meeting adjourned until Tuesday evening, 2d March, half past 7 o'clock. HENRY STARR, President. C. D. Coffin, Secretary. Thursday Evenins, 2d Makch, 1848. The citizens of Cincinnati assembled at the Merchants' Exchange, pursuant to adjournment. Mr. Guilford, from the committee heretofore appointed, made the following report- Whereas John Quincy Adams died at the Capitol of this Union on the 23d day of 21 February instant, in tho 81st year of his age — having been actively engaged in the public service of his country for more than half a century — having successively filled, with unsurpassed integrity and ability, nearly all the high offices in every department of the National Government — being at the time of his death one of the Representatives in Congress frora the State of Massachusetts, a post which he had uninterruptedly occupied for 17 years— and having by an energy that never faltered, and an industry that never tired, made such vast and various attainments, as a Phi losopher, Statesman, Civilian and Scholar, that it may well be doubted, whether, in regard to this rare and wonderful combination of excellence, he left, in the wide world, an equal behind him; and Whereas it becomes an enlightened and Christian people — while they bow in humble submission to that decree of the Almighty, which has called this great and good man from the field of his earthly toils, to join the great and good of all lands and times in the assembly of the Just made Perfect in Heaven — at the same time, to do what in them lies to draw from the sublime example of such a life and death, the impressive lessons which they ought to teach: Therefore be it Resolved, By the citizens of Cincinnati, in public meeting assembled, I. That we all commemorate the death ot John Quincy Adams by appropriate public ceremonies, among which shall be a Procession and an Oration with Music and Religious Exercises, on the 22d day of March instant, to be conducted by the persons and in the manner which shall be provided for by the following Committees, to be appointed by the Chairman : 1. A Committee of Finance, to consist of five persons. 2. A Committee on the Procession, to consist of five persons. 3. A Committee on Music, to consist of three persons. 4. A Committee on the Building, to consist of three persons. S. A Committee on Religious Exercises, to consist of three persons. 6. A Committee on the Oration, to consist of five persons. Which Committee shall respectively have power to fill vacancies, and do all acts and things coming within their several spheres. II. That the Chairman of the several Committees before mentioned, together with the President and Secretary of this meeting, shall constitute a General Committee of Arrangements and Supervision. Which Report was approved and the preamble and resolutions passed. Committee of Finance : Messrs. Geo. Carlisle, Griffin Taylor, Robert Crawford E. M. Gregory, and E. S. Haines. On Procession : Messrs. Geo. Graham, E. Hulse, W. Wiswell, Thomas J. Weaver, and A. M. Mitchell. On Music : T. B. Mason, Victor Williams, and W. D. Gallagher. On Building : Messrs. Samuel Lewis, Christopher Smith, and John Burgoyne. On Religious Exercises : Messrs. John P. Foote, Samuel W. Pomeroy, and William NefF. On the Oration : Messrs. N. Guilford, E. P. Langdon, John C. Wright, John D. Jones, and Daniel F. Meader. Resolved, That the proceedings of this meeting be published in all the city papers. Adjourned. H. STARR, President. C. D. Coffin, Secretary. The Committee of Arrangements adopted the following order of procession and services for the funeral solemnities on Wednesday, ihe 22d of March, to commem orate the death of John Quincy Adams. The procession was under the the direction of GEORGE GRAHAM, Gkand Marshal. 22 ASSISTANT MARSHALS. COL. A. M. MITCHELL, THOS. J. WEAVER, WM. WISWELL, M. P. TAYLOR, MILES GREENWOOD, E. HULSE, MAJ. CHAS. SARGEANT, GEN. M. S. WADE, O. M. MITCHEL. ORDER OF PROCESSION. The U. S. Troops of the Newport Garrison, Volunteer Companies, Field and Staff Officers of the Militia, U. S. Officers of the Army and Navy, Revolutionary Soldiers, Band of Music, Orator and Officiating Clergy in carriages. H Ij A R S E, Drawn by ten horses with grooms in Turkish costumes. Pall Bearers in open carriages, Committee of Arrangements, City Council of Cincinnati, Mayor and Municipal Officers of Cincinnati, Mayor and City Council of Newport, Mayor and City Council of Covington, Trustees and Visiters of Common Schools. Professors of Colleges and Teachers of Schools. Band of Music. Fire Department of Covington, Fire Department of Cincinnati, Band of Music, Order of U. S. of A. Temperance Societies, Band of Music, Citizens in Procession, Governors and Ex-Governors of States, And other State Officers, New England Society, Members of the Bar, Judges and Officers of Courts, Aslronomical Society. CEREMONIES AT WESLEY CHAPEL. 1. Dirge; words by Mrs. R. S. Nichols. Solemn tolled the "passing-bell;" Gates of death were lifted high ; Dirges in an anthem-swell, Rose from troubled earth to sky. Poet, veil thy crowned head ! Statesman, droop thy lofty brow ! Like a widow, o'er her dead. Bends a weeping nation now. Torn from human hopes and tears. One, a country's lawful pride. Gray in glory! gray in years! Nobly lived — most nobly died! 23 On the field where he had fought, Battling for the wronged — oppressed ; Where his noblest deeds were wrought, — There he fell, in armor dressed. Lay his helmet by his side — Write, " Salvation unto man," On the circlet, true and tried. That a world may read the plan. "Sword of Spirit!" take thy rest- Palsied now the wielder's arm : " Shield of Faith'' upon his breast. Death, his soul might not alarm. Never more, shall home or hall Yield an echo to his voice ; Never more, shall freemen's call Make his Patriot-heart rejoice. Great in council ! gray in years ! On the field of his renown, He, despite a nation's tears. Laid his costly laurels down. Solemn tolled the "passing-bell,'' — Gates of death were lifted high — Dirges, in an anthem-swell, Rose from troubled earth to sky. Poet, veil thy crowned head — Statesman, droop thy lofty brow — Like a widow, o'er her dead. Bends a weeping nation now ! 2. Prater; by Rev. Dr. Beecher. 3. Htmn; words by John Quincy Adams; read by Rev. Mr. Magoon. How swift, alas, the moments fly ! How rush the years along! Scarce here, yet gone already by — The burden of a song. See childhood, youth, and manhood pass. And age, with furrowed brow ; Time was — time shall be — but alas! Where, where in time is now? Time is the measure of but change ; No present hour is found ; The past, the future, fill the range Of time's unceasing round. Where, then, is now ? In realms above. With God's atoning Lamb, In regions of eternal love. Where sits enthroned I AM! Then, pilgrim, let thy joys and fears On time no longer lean ; But henceforth all thy joys and fears From earth's affections wean. To God let grateful accents rise ; With truth, with virtue live; So all the bliss that 'time denies. Eternity shall give. 24 4. Reading of the Scriptures, ;by Hev. Mr. Perkins. 5. Chorus; words by Sir Henry Wotton, A. D. 1600. How happy 1.= he born or taught. Who serveth not another's will ; Whose armor is his honest thought. And simpfe truth his highest skill — Whose passions not his masters are; Whose soul is still prepared for death; Not tied unto the world with care Of Prince's ear or vulgar breath : Who God doth lats. and early pray More of his grace than goods to lend, Aiid walks with man from day to day, As with a brother and a friend. This man is freed from servile bands Of hope to rise, or fear to fall ; Lord of nimsetf, though not of lands. And having notbing, yet hath all. 6. Okation; by T. Walker, Esq. 7. Funeral Anthem; words by James W. Ward. Weep not for him who now, From the grave waking, Stahds where archangels bow. Glory partaking ; Finished his mortal race. Duty completed, Filled with each heavenly grace, To the jnst meted; — There with expanding soul, Where the life-waters roll, To the eternal goal Joyfully greeted. Yet when a great good man Rests from his labor. Working the Christian plan. Good to his neighbor. True hearts must mourn the loss Grieved and forsaken. Bearing the Master's cross. Firm and unshaken; Faith growing stronger then, Looking for help again, Since from the laboringmen One has been taken. OJThbu, the only Wise, Look-from' thy dweUing, Pardon our selfish sighsi- Painfully swelling. Fields for -the harvest white. Round us are lyings- Help «s with holy might, Dangers defying ; On with the work to gd. While thou dost life 'bestow ; To every human wo Some balm applying. 8. Concluding Prater; by Rev. Bishop Morris. 9. Sentence; " His body is buried in peace." 10. Benediction; by Rev. G. W. Gillespie. 19-20. BARBI MICHELE, Notizia della vita e delle opere di Francesco Bracciolinl L. 1, 40 21. COLAGROSSO FRANCESCO, La prinna tragedia di An tonio Confi. Nuova edizione accresciuta » 0, 60 22. RUBERTO LUIGL Un arlicolo dantesco di Gabriele Pepe e il sua duello con Alfonso di Lamartine . . . . » 0, 60 23-24. OSCAR SCHULTZ-GORA, Le Epislole del Trovalore . Rambaldo da Vaqueiras a Bonifazio I Marchese di Mon- ferrato. Traduzione di G. Del Noce, con aggiunte e correzioni deirAutore ; . » 2, 00 25. SALVIOLI GIUSEPPE, L' istruzione pubblica in Italia nei secoli VHE., IX e X • . . . -. » 1, 30 26. LUZIO ALESSANDRO. Studi folenghiani »1,20 27. FRANCESCO PAOLO. LUISO. Ranieri e Leopardi, Storia di una edizione » 1, 00 ' 28. FABRIS G. A. I prim! scritti in "prosa di Vittorio Alfieri. » 0, 50 29. PIERGILI G. Notizia della vita e degli scritti del Conte Monaldo Leopardi. Con ritratto e facsimile . ...» 1, 00 30. ZINGARELLI N. Inlorno a due Trovatori in Italia . . » 0, 80 31. IMPALLOMENI NICOLA. L'Anligone di Vittorio Alfieri » 0,50 32. EDWARD MOORE. Gil accenni al tempo nella Divina Commedia e lore relazione con la presunta data e du- rata della visione. Versione italiana di Cino Chiarini. » 1, 20 33. PERSICO FEDERIGO. Due lett! — A. Casanova e la Divina Commedia » 0, 00 34. FARINELLI ARTURO. Danle e Goethe. Confereaza te- nuta alia Societ'i Dantesca di Milano il 16 Aprile 1 899. » 0, 50 35. BARBI A. S. Un Accademici) mecenate e poeta Giovan Batlista Strozzi il Giovane » 0, 70 36. HAUVETTE ENRICO. Dante nella poesia francese del Rinascimento. Traduzione di. Amelia Agresta con ag giunte deirAutore » 0, 60 37-38. KRAUS F. S. Francesco Pelrarca e la sua corrispon- denza epistolare. Traduzione di Diego Valbusa . . » 1, 40 39. TORRACA FRANCESCO. Le donne italiane nella poesia Provenzale. — Su la «Treva» di G. de la Tor. . . » 1, 00 40. COCHIN ENRICO. Boccaccio. Traduzione di Domenico Vitaliani con aggiunte deirAutore » 1, 00 Si pubblicliera un volume ogni mese. Biblioteca Critica dell.i Letteratura Italiana direlta da FBANCJlSCO TORRACA Volumi 1. GIESEBRECHT GUGLIELMO, Dell' istruzione in Italia >;i,TA-.Y.; nei primi secoli del Medio Evo, traduz. di C. Pascal. L. 1, 20. --j;- '% OZANAM ANTON FEDERICO, Le Scuole'e I' Istruzione ' v,^ v^ ' . „ in Italia nei Medio Evo, traduzione di G: Z. I. . . . ,» 1,00 ,;',-,; 3. CAPASSO BARTOLOMMEpi'Sui Diurnalidi Matteo da /' ^^: • ' - .. Giovenazzd, nuova ediz.riveduta e accresciuta dall' A. » 1,20 .4. ZENATTI ALBINO," Arrigo Testa "e i primordi della lirica ' ¦ r.,<.' , itaiiana, nuova ediz. riveduta e accresciuta dall'A. . » 1,00^ , 'i'. PARIS GASTON, I racconti orienlali nella lelleratura fran- . ; cese, traduz. di M. Menghini aiitoiizzata dall'A. . . » 0, 80 "6. SAINTE-BEUVE, Fauriel e Manzoni — Leopardi. . . »1, 30,' •7. CARLYLE TOMMASO, Danle e Shakespeare . . . . »0, 60 ^ 8. "PAEIS GASTON, La leggenda. di Saladino ..'... V i, 00 ¦* 9. CAPASSb BARTOLOMMEO, Ancora i Diurnali di Mat- ""-" '.;;-, . teo da Giovenazzo ^ . . . ..; ".' . . .' r . . . . » 0, 60 .¦ ~ ;lo! CAMPORI GIUSEPPE, Notizie per la viladi L. Ariosto. » 1,20 11. CARDUCCI GIOSUE, Su I'Aminla di T. Tasso.Saggi '" ' '>.._tre. Con una Pastorale inedita di G. B. Giraldi Cinthio. » 1, 20 ~ 12.CIASiP0LINI ERMANNOJ La prima' tragedia regolare *_ \ • della' Letteratura Italiana . .-.....'..¦..'. »0,50 . 13. CASINI TOMMASO, La giovinezza e I' esilio di Terenzio ' . Mamiani.,;r . . . . .-. . . s .>..,... . .»1,00/. U. ZUMBINI BONAyENTURA, II Ninfale Fiesolano di G ..'^' Boccaccio, nuova ediz. riveduta e accresciuta dall'A » 0, lO 15. KERBAKER MICHELE, Shakespeare;e Goethe nei versi . ,«.. , >.- di Vincenzo Monti. . . . ... !';:. .-'.' .;•-. ^0,50* ¦-* 16-17. DE AMICIS VINCENZO, L' Imitazione Lalina nella ""¦. Commedia Italiana del XVI secolo, nuova edizionerne < -' data dairautore . . .", . .'.... . . . . . >1, 20 > 18. .JEANROY ALFREDO, La/Poesia francese in Italia nei periodo delle origini. Traduzione italiana riveduta dtl ^- M'Autore con note e iutroduzione di (jliorgio Rossi » 1,00 ¦--' / ,':' . .- ¦ , , . (Segue in 3» pagma) gg|(Sg3 i iljJjfUffi