ber of the Senate of his own State or of the Union, or head of the American Commission to negotiate the treaty of Ghent, or Secretary of State, or President of the United States, or member of the House of Representatives, we find him bearing in each and all of these stations that "good name to be chosen rather than great riches." The integrity of aim— the conscientious wish and determination to do right and promote the interests of the country-the honest and liberal views, which, spurning the trammels of party, looked to the welfare of the many rather than to the petty interests of the few, are not claimed for him simply by his friends, but are frankly awarded him by the candid verdict of many, once most warmly opposed to his schemes and policy in conducting the affairs of the government.

It would, of course, be foreign to this place and to the character of this service to enter at all into the discussion of those principles of government and of public affairs, held by this distinguished man, on which the minds of men differed, and still to some extent differ. To the future biographer or historian will belong the task of sifting these principles, and assigning them their true place and value, as the calm judgment of posterity. I am concerned simply with the morale of his public life—with his name, so

far as it may illustrate the sentiment of the text. My design is to draw useful lessons from what is fair and upright in his character. Two points, however remotely connected with this forbidden subject, demand at least a passing notice, as throwing a fine light upon the character of his name.

The first is, the noble stand he took in behalf of the right of petition, at a time when the question of the abolition of slavery was agitating the Union from one extremity to the other; when, between the excessive sensitiveness of one portion of the Union in shrinking from this question, and the hot pertinacity of the other in forcing it before the country, the ark of our liberties, tossed by these adverse and threatening surges, seemed well nigh on the point of going down. From all parts of the free States petitions came pouring in, for Congress to legislate upon this delicate question, while the frowns and the scowls, the loud and angry remonstrances, the fierce invectives of those who refused even to hear petitions, which they regarded as a monstrous interference with their vested rights, proclaimed the exciting and ominous nature of the contest.

And there sat the champion of the right of petition, like another Neptune, calm amid the rudest commotion of the elements, shaping his course by

the great principles of freedom, truth, and right. Or rising in his place in debate, armed at all points by his ripe experience his long and intimate acquaintance with public affairs-his profound and varied knowledge-the high ability to bring all to bear upon his argument and more than all, the justice of his cause, the "old man eloquent" poured forth torrents of learning, logic, law, sound philosophy, the rich and varied treasures of his mind, and sometimes invective and sarcasm to overwhelm his adversaries. Nor could manly argument resist his force, nor sophistry evade his penetration; nor ridicule, nor sneers, nor threats move him one iota from his firm position. Year after year he continued the contest, planting himself immovably upon the Constitution which guarantees to the people the right of petition, beating down from his vantage ground the weak defences of his opponents; regarded by them with respect, not unmingled with fear, and (for such is human nature) even hatred of the man, in a conflict with whom no laurels could be gained.

And had John Quincy Adams done nothing more for his good name and his country than what he achieved on this stirring arena, he would have conferred enviable lustre upon the one, and deserved the lasting thanks of the other. Nor would the words

applied to Chevalier Bayard, "the man without fear and without reproach," be misapplied, particularly in reference to this struggle, if attached to his venerable name.

The other point I would advert to, is this. It has been said that it is derogatory to the name and dignity of Mr. Adams, after having filled the highest station in the gift of the people, to be found afterwards occupying a place so comparatively humble, as a seat in the Nation's Hall of Representatives. He should have retired after leaving the Presidency, as his predecessors had done, to the shades of private life for the remainder of his days, and there, afar from the bustle of active life, and the strife of tongues, have rested in calm and dignified repose upon his honors.

This question resolves itself into one of motives. There is certainly nothing undignified in serving the country, or desiring to serve it, in whatever rank or capacity, the lowest as well as the highest. Had the motive which drew Mr. Adams from retirement been the mere love of place or distinction for their own sake, his consenting to become a Representative of the people, would be every way unworthy and unjustifiable. But from all we know of his character such a supposition cannot be for one moment entertained. He accepted the station when offered, not because he

was covetous of its honors, much less of its emoluments, but because he was ever ready and anxious to do the state service when the opportunity was presented; because he believed that his abilities belonged to his country, and that whenever she called-whenever his fellow-citizens called, it was his duty to sacrifice his own inclinations and ease, by occupying in her service any station, however humble it might be.

So far, then, from acting an unbecoming part in pursuing this course, his name derives additional lustre from a circumstance so unexampled in the history of the Republic. In truth, his name had never been what it now is, but for the situation in which he was here placed, and the circumstances attendant on this memorable struggle. Heroic qualities developed themselves here, the possession of which his countrymen had not suspected before, and of which he appears to have been hardly conscious himself-but qualities none the less real, or sterling, or exalted, because they had lain dormant hitherto, and required the stimulating force of such a time and occasion, and such rough collisions, to awaken them to life and activity. Nor is it too much to say, that the most lustrous page in his history will ever be the very one containing his conflicts and his victories as one of the