From The N. Y. Evening Post. | in Boston in 1772, Josiah Quincy's recollec THE LIFE OF JOSIAH QUINCY. SOME years ago Carlyle said that he found the" Acta Sanctorum" the most profitable reading among all books of human production. For us who are to work out the application of Christianity to politics, government, and the whole range of our earthly relations, the acts of our dead worthies are at least equally important and valuable. The men who have most truly embodied the great ideas which underlie our national life are our best teachers and exemplars. Even those who have been led by force of circumstances or education into channels aside from the main current of democratic progress are worth knowing well, provided their lives have illustrated those sterling virtues without which democracy, like all other forms of government, must prove a failure. Of this class was Josiah Quincy, whose life has just been written and published by his son Edmund. 'A nobler, purer, or more stalwart specimen of the old school of Federalists could not have been selected as a tions went back with much distinctness to "In this charming home, with so admirable a companion, those fresh years of life glided happily away. Boston, though the second town in importance in the United States, contained but eighteen thousand inhabitants. It was full of late as Milton's time, and in one of which he 'garden houses,' such as lingered in London as once lived. Many of its streets and Pearl street was one of them-resembled those of a flourishing country-town rather than of the capital of a sovereign state. Cows were pastured, long since this century came in, where the thick houses of a dense population now crowd one another for room. Boys played ball in subject for the biographer, and in this case the rush of traffic. The Common was then, the streets without disturbance or danger from filial devotion has been by no means the and for a quarter of a century later, properly principal qualification for the work. Now and technically a common,' upon which every that the conscientiously entertained fears inhabitant had the right of pasturing his cow. of this old school of politicians as to the These milky mothers,' indeed, were very ability of the people to govern themselves prominent members of society at that time and have been largely dispelled, we can be all for long afterwards, and had or took the freethe more tolerant of the political errors of dom of the city with a perfect self complacency, men who, like Quincy, worked so efficiently perambulating the streets at their own free will and honestly for the maintenance of what and pleasure. The same privileges and immunities were enjoyed by them in Boston that they regarded as correct political principles. were extended then, and until within my own They were, at all events, men of sturdy observation, in New York, to less pastoral and uprightness and altogether American. Their uncleaner beasts. Those were days of small lives are a precious inheritance, whose value things and slow communications. The Ameris not lost because they may have been ican cities and communities were then individusomewhat cramped by provincialism or some-al and distinct in their characteristics, to a dewhat embittered by opposition to resistless tendencies. The life of Josiah Quincy was so long and so much occupied with public functions that its narrative must give a sort of epitome of the history of New England since the Revolutionary era. In fact, his biographer properly takes us back to the early colonial days, when Edmund Quincy, in 1633, arrived in Boston, in company with the Rev. John Cotton. From that time to the present the Quincy family have been honorably prominent in the public and private life of New England, the position occupied by its representatives in one generation being taken by those of the next, by virtue of inherited ability and character. Born gree scarcely conceivable in these days of multiplied population and universal travel. A journey to New York, then a small city of thirty thousand souls, was a much rarer event took nearly as long, and was attended with in life then than a voyage to Europe now. It greater danger and discomfort. Two stagecoaches and twelve horses sufficed for the travel between the two chief commercial places on the continent in 1790, and the journey consumed a week. The visits of strangers were rare events, and always the occasions of general and eager hospitality. The Boston of that day recovered from the financial embarrassments was a pleasant place to live in. It was well which accompanied and followed the Revolu tionary war; and the revival of commerce, and the opening of fields to the enterprise of the merchants, closed against them in the days of colonial dependence, were the cause of a great and growing prosperity. The intercourse of the cultivated society for which Boston was distinguished was conducted on simple and easy terms. The hours were early. Private parties were elegant, according to the fashion of the time, but infrequent in comparison with friendly gatherings of a more informal and unceremonious kind. Public assemblies collected the principal inhabitants once a fortnight in Concert Hall, where the minuet and country dance yet held their own against revolutionary innovations. Solemn dinner parties, after the English fashion, were of common occurrence, often long protracted over the discussion of politics, and of the rare growths of Madeira, then the favourite wine, and, indeed, almost the only one in use." of Harvard University. With all of his Roman firmness, adhesiveness to principle, and unequivocal hostility to what he deemed wrong in state or church, there was a kindly side to his nature, which was open to all legitimate social pleasures. The account given by Mr. Edmund Quincy of the public services of his father is singularly free from any evidence that filial piety has blinded his eyes to unpleasant traits in Josiah Quincy's character, or inclined him to do injustice to his opponent. If the picture has been affectionately, it has been conscientiously drawn, and, while ties of the man, it does not conceal the developing with warm tints the good qualierrors of the politician. And it is a picture of a life which was not only prolonged for a generation beyond the assigned limit, but full of activity, vigor, and usefulness to the last, the undecayed patriotism of the Such pictures as this of the New England social life of the time relieve it of much of the stiffness and sombre features with which it is often invested; and it is pleasant to know, that, even at that time when local nonogenarian inspiring the young enthusiprejudices were very strong against some forms of amusement now generally accepted," Mr. Quincy was an advocate of the rational enjoyment of the drama. His biographer says, "For instance, the theatre had fought its way over the prejudices, or the sound objec tions, of Puritan tradition, and had established itself as one of the recognised institutions of asm of a favorite grandson with new ardor for the great contest which we have just passed through, and in which he bore an honorable part. Fortunate throughout the whole of his long career in the best worldly sense; respected always, even by his bitterest opponents; doubtful of the people by reason of inherited prejudices, but true all his life long to a love of liberty also inherited, the life of Josiah Quincy is one which deserves to be well told, and it has been. The book is published in a handsome octavo volume, by Ticknor & Fields, Boston. From the Spectator, Nov. 9. the town. Mr. Quincy, like the most of lively and intelligent young men, loved a play, and took a warm interest in the conflict which raged for a while between the old ideas and the new over this innovation. He used to assist, in the French sense of the word, at the 'Moral Lectures' entitled 'The School for Scandal,' or The Belle's Stratagem,' under which disguise the drama sought at first to avoid the penalties of the old prohibitory laws. He was present when the sheriff, by Governor Hancock's directions, made his first appearance on the stage in the midst of a performance, arrested the actors, and carried them off in custody to an- ITALY has" caved in." On Saturday, swer for their misdeeds. He helped to swell an intimation was conveyed to Florence the public opinion, which, provoked by this that the conjoint occupation would not be severity of persecution, as the friends of the allowed, that the Emperor had ordered drama esteemed it, not long afterwards com- 100,000 men to enter the Papal States, and pelled the repeal of the old laws, and procured that Italy must retreat beyond the frontier. was one of the crowd that thronged its audito- On the Sunday, Garibaldi was attacked Rotondo by rium on the opening night, to celebrate the below Monte the Papal triumphant issue of the contest, and to witness Zouaves, commanded by General de Charwhat really marked an epoch in the history of ette, -a son, we believe, of the Vendean the manners of New England." hero, and a French brigade, under General Polhes. On Tuesday, Garibaldi, defeated and retreating, was disarmed by the Italians; and on Wednesday the Papal States had been evacuated by the Royal troops, and La Marmora was apologizing at the charter of the Boston Theatre. And he We give the above as showing a less familiar phase of Mr. Quincy's character than those which have been exhibited by his career as a politician and as the president the Tuileries for the momentary indepen- GREAT efforts have been made all through dence of his country. Victor Emanuel Italy to conceal the truth as to the subserat the last moment shrank back from the viency of the Government, all newspapers danger of war with France, and laid his having been "invited" to silence, and all country bound and helpless at the feet of telegrams suppressed. The instant, howNapoleon. No baser act has been commit- ever, the retreat was known Milan broke ted in our day, and Cavour, could he have into fierce insurrection, no details of which survived such a humiliation for an hour, have arrived, but which was suppressed by would have been the first to vote for a Re- the free use of the rifle. It is asserted public. By retiring before such a mandate, that the revolt was put down by the Nationthe King confesses that Italy is a de-al Guard, but the soldiers must also have pendency of France, that she has no right in Rome, and that her people are weaker for self-defence than Mexicans. Italy deserves more than ever the sympathy of Englishmen, but the House of Savoy, by submitting to foreign orders, has forfeited its moral right to reign. been employed. A similar movement occurred at Pavia, but according to the best accounts the Italians, though frantic with emotion, are willing to wait the reassembling of Parliament, which is summoned for the 26th. In that body the Reds will be immensely strengthened by recent events, and may insist on a Mordini Ministry, in which case war has not yet been finally averted. The King is calling out every available soldier, intending to repress the revolution; but once assembled, Parliament may assign them other work to do. The pivot of power in Italy is the Chamber. THE accounts of the battle of Monte Rotondo, or Mentana, as the French call it, from a village nearer to Rome, are conflict ing; but according to the most trustworthy accounts Garibaldi was entrenched on the hills with about 4,000 men, when on Sunday the Papal Zouaves, four thousand strong, armed with Chassepots, advanced to the THE Emperor of the French is said to attack. Pressed by hunger, Garibaldi de- have set forth his attitude towards Italy scended the hills, and tried to pass the very dramatically in his reception of GenZouaves and so seize Tivoli, but he was eral la Marmora. Instead of coming forintercepted at Mentana, and in the struggle ward and taking his hand, he only made a which followed barely held his own. The slight inclination of the head, and then Zouaves, however, were desisting from the asked coldly what he wished to say. Genattack, when the Polhes brigade of 5,000 eral la Marmora made his statement, when regulars arrived, and the Garibaldians, who the Emperor asked if he had any more to had lost 500 in killed and wonnded, broke, observe, and hearing that he had not, fled, or surrendered. They had fought bowed again as stiffly as before, and said he splendidly, as the Moniteur admits, but they might retire. A messenger followed to aswere hungry, Garibaldi having expected sure the General that this icy reception was food from the regular army. The moment given not to the individual, but to the Govdefeat was certain, an officer or two collect-ernment he represents. The Italian Governed a small body of the Red Shirts, enclosed ment had studiously courted this indignity, the General, bore him off his feet, and in spite of all orders carried him by force to Terni, where he was arrested by the King's command and sent to Spezzia, whence, it is believed in Florence, he will be shipped for America. This account, it will be seen, is not that of the Moniteur, but we believe it to be correct. and announced its determination not to resent it, by a public attitude, not perhaps so dramatic, but very much more humiliating than La Marmora's in this frigid presence. The Emperor's lively translation of the meaning of those transactions mto the language of demeanour, may be useful to Italy, and will, we hope, be widely known there. PUTNAM'S MAGAZINE. No. 1. January, 1868. Preparing for Publication at this Office THE CHAPLET OF PEARLS. By the author of “Heir of Redclyffe." THE BROWNLOWS. By Mrs. Oliphant. LINDA TRESSEL. By the author of "Nina Balatka." THE BRAMLEIGHS OF BISHOP'S FOLLY. By Charles Lever. ALL FOR GREED. PHINEAS FINN, THE IRISH MEMBER. By Mr. Trollope. Just Published at this Office 50 cents. THE TENANTS OF MALORY. By J. S. Le Fanu. The PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY BY LITTELL & GAY, BOSTON. TERMS OF SUBSCRIPTION. FOR EIGHT DOLLARS, remitted directly to the Publishers, the Living Age will be punctually forwarded for a year, free of postage. But we do not prepay postage on less than a year; nor where we have to pay cmmission for forwarding the money. Price of the First Series,in Cloth, 36 volumes, 90 dollars. Second The Complete work Any Volume Bound, 3 dollars; Unbound, 2 dollars. The sets, or volumes, will be sent at the expense of the publishers. |