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TRIBUTE TO JOSIAH QUINCY 
 
 BY THE 
 
 assac^usttts pisl0rital ^^tni'g. 
 
TRIBUTE 
 
 MASSACHUSETTS HISTOEICAL SOCIETY 
 
 ®a tfje ilHnnovg 
 
 J O S I A H Q U I N C Y, 
 
 July 14, 18C4. 
 
 r 
 
 ^ 
 
 BOSTON: (?^ 
 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 1864. 
 

 BOSTON: 
 ntlNTED BY JOHN WILSON AND SON, 
 
 15, Water Street. 
 
T R I B U T E. 
 
 At the Stated Meeting of the Massachusetts Histo- 
 rical Society, held at their Rooms, on Tremont Street, 
 Thursday, July 14, 1864, after some preliminary busi- 
 ness, the President, the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, 
 spoke as follows : — 
 
 Gentlemen of the Massachusetts Historical Society, 
 
 When we were last assembled here, at our stated monthly 
 meeting, on tlie ninth day of June, our Society, for the first 
 time since its institution in 1791, had on its catalogue just 
 a hundred names of living members, resident within the 
 Commonwealth of Massachusetts. An election at the previous 
 meeting in May had at length completed the full number 
 allowed by our charter ] and on that day our roll was full. 
 
 At the head of that roll — first in the order of seniority, 
 and second, certainly, in nothing that could attract interest, 
 respect, and veneration — stood the name of one who had 
 been a member of the Society during sixty-eight out of the 
 seventy years of our corporate existence ; who had wit- 
 nessed our small beginnings ; who had been associated with 
 Belknap and Sullivan and Tudor and Minot, and the rest 
 of the little band of our immediate founders, in all but our 
 verj' earliest proceedings and publications ; who for seventeen 
 years, long past, had been our Treasurer, and had repeatedly 
 done faithful and valuable service as a member of our Execu- 
 
4 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 live and of our Publishing Committees ; whose interest in our 
 prosperity and welfare had known no suspension or abate- 
 ment with the lapse of time ; who had contributed liberally to 
 the means by which our condition had of late been so largely 
 improved, and our accommodations so widely extended; and 
 who so often, during the very last years of his eventful and 
 protracted life, had lent the highest interest to our meetings 
 by his venerable presence, and by his earnest and impressive 
 participation in our discussions and doings. 
 
 You all remember, I am sure, how proudly he marshalled 
 the way for us into this beautiful Dowse Library, when its 
 folding-doors were first thrown open seven or eight j^ears ago, 
 and when it might so Avell have been said of him, — 
 
 " The monumental pomp of age 
 Was with this goodly personage; 
 A stature undepressed in size, 
 Unbent, which rather seemed to rise, 
 In open victory o'er the weight 
 Of eighty j'cars, to loftier height." 
 
 You all remember how impressively he reminded us, not 
 long afterwards, at that memorable meeting on the death of 
 our lamented Prescott, that he became a member of this 
 Society the very year in which that illustrious historian was 
 born. 
 
 You all remember how playfully he observed, a few years 
 later, when seconding the nomination of the late Lord Lynd- 
 hurst as one of our Honorary Members, that the same nurse 
 had served in immediate succession for the infant Copley and 
 himself, and that she must certainly have given them both 
 something very good to make them live so long. 
 
 You all remember how pleasantly he recalled to us that 
 earliest reminiscence of his own infancy, when, being taken 
 by his widowed mother out of Boston, while it was in the 
 joint possession of the British army and of a pestilence even 
 more formidable than any army, he was stopped at the lines 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. O 
 
 to be smoked, for fear he might communicate contagion to the 
 American troops who were besieging the town. 
 
 You have not forgotten that delightful meeting beneath his 
 own hospitable roof, on the eighty-third anniversary of the 
 battle of Lexington, — the guns of which might have startled 
 his own infant slumbers, — when he read to us so many inter- 
 esting memoranda, from the manuscript diaries of his patriot 
 father, in regard to events which led to the establishment of 
 our National Independence. 
 
 Still less can any of you have forgotten his personal attend- 
 ance here only a few months since, when, with an evident 
 consciousness that he had come among us for the last time, he 
 presented to us several most interesting and valuable histori- 
 cal documents — at this moment passing through the press — 
 which he had recently observed among his private papers ; 
 which he thought might possibly have come into his possession 
 as one of our Publishing Committee more than half a century 
 ago ; and which, with the scrupulous exactness which charac- 
 terized him through life, he desired to deliver up to us per- 
 sonally, before it should be too late for him to do so. 
 
 No wonder, my friends, that we always welcomed his pres- 
 ence here with such eager interest. No wonder that with so 
 much pleasure we saw him seated, from time to time, in 
 yonder Washington chair, hitherto reserved for him alone ; 
 for he alone of our number had ever personally seen and 
 known that " foremost man of all this world." No wonder that 
 we cherished his name with so much pride at the head of our 
 roll, as an historical name, linking us, by its associations with 
 the living as well as with the dead, to the heroic period of our 
 Revolutionary struggle ; and no wonder, certainly, that we all 
 feel deeply to-day, when we are assembled to receive the 
 official announcement of his death, that a void has been 
 created in our ranks and in our hearts, which can hardly be 
 filled. 
 
6 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 I have spoken of his name as an historical name ; and I 
 need hardly say, that it would have been so, even had it been 
 associated with no other career than his own. His own for- 
 tunate and remarkable life, — embracing the whole period of 
 our existence thus far as a nation, and covering more than a 
 third of the time since the earliest colonial settlement of New 
 England, — a life crowded with the most varied and valuable 
 public service, and crowned at last with such a measure of 
 honor, love, and reverence, as rarely falls to the lot of humani- 
 ty, — was sufficient in itself to secure for him an historical 
 celebrity, even while he still lived. But, indeed, his name 
 had entered into history while he was yet an unconscious 
 child. In a letter of the Rev. Dr. William Gordon's, dated on 
 the 26th of April, 1775, and contained in his contemporaneous 
 ''History of the Rise, Progress, and Establishment of the Inde- 
 pendence of America," will be found the following passage : — 
 
 "My friend Quincy has sacrificed his life for the sake of his coun- 
 try. The ship in which he sailed arrived at Cape Ann within these 
 two days ; but he lived not to get on shore, or to hear and triumph at 
 the account of the success of the Lexin":ton engageraent. His remains 
 Avill be honorably interred by his relations. Let him be numbered 
 with the patriotic heroes who fall in the cause of Liberty, and let his 
 memory be dear to posterity. Let his only surviving child, a son of 
 about three years, live to possess his nolle virtues, and to transmit Jiis 
 •name cloivn to future cjenerations." 
 
 Nor can we fail to recall, in this connection, those most 
 remarkable words in the last will and testament of that 
 patriot father, whose career was as brilliant as it was brief, 
 and whose premature death was among the severest losses of 
 our early Revolutionary period : — 
 
 " I give to my son, when he shall arrive to tlie age of fifteen 
 years, Algernon Sidney's Works, John Locke's Works, Lord Bacon's 
 Works, C4ordon's Tacitus, and Cato's Letters. May the spirit of 
 Liberty rest upon him ! " 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 7 
 
 Such was the introduction to history of him whose life is 
 just closed. Such were the utterances in regard to hira while 
 he was yet but of infant years. How rarely is it vouchsafed 
 to any one to fulfil such hopes and expectations ! Yet, now 
 that he has left us at almost a patriarch's age, these words seem 
 to have been prophetic of the career which awaited him ; and 
 we could hardly find a juster or a more enviable inscription 
 for his monument than to say that " he lived to possess the 
 .noble virtues of his father, and to transmit his name down to 
 future generations," and that '' the spirit of Liberty rested 
 upon him." 
 
 It is not for me, however, gentlemen, to attempt even a 
 sketch of the career or character of our departed associate 
 and friend. I have indeed been permitted to know him for 
 many years past, as intimately, perhaps, as the difference of 
 our ages would allow. As I attended his remains a few days 
 since as one of the pall-bearers, — a distinction which was 
 assigned me as your President, — I could not forget how often 
 at least forty years before, when he was the next-door neigh- 
 bor of my father's family, I had walked along with him, hand 
 in hand, of a summer or a winter morning, — he on his way to 
 the City Hall as the honored Mayor of Boston ; and I, as a boy, 
 to the Public Latin School just opposite. From that time to 
 this I have enjoyed his acquaintance and his friendship, and 
 have counted them among the cherished privileges of my life. 
 But there are those of our number, and some of them present 
 with us to-day, who have been associated with him, as I have 
 never been, in more than one of his varied public emplo}'- 
 ments, and who can bear personal testimony to the fidelity 
 and ability with which he discharged them. 
 
 We may look in vain, it is true, for any of the personal 
 associates of his early career as a statesman. He had out- 
 lived almost all the contemporaries of his long and brilliant 
 service in our State and National Legislatures. But asso- 
 
8 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 ciates and witnesses are still left of liis vigorous and most 
 successful administration of our municipal affairs, and of his 
 faithful and devoted labors for sixteen years as President of 
 our beloved University. Meantime, the evidences of his lite- 
 rary and intellectual accomplishments are familiar to us all, in 
 his History of the University, in his History of the Athenaeum, 
 in his Municipal History of Boston, in his Biographies of his 
 ever-honored father, and of his illustrious friend and kinsman, 
 John Quincy Adams, and in so many speeches, addresses, and 
 essays, upon almost every variety of topic, historical, political, 
 literary, social, and moral. 
 
 We may follow him back, indeed, to the day when he was 
 graduated with the highest honors at the University of which 
 he lived to be the oldest alumnus ; and we shall never find 
 him idle or unemployed, nor ever fail to trace him by some 
 earnest word or some energetic act. Everywhere we shall 
 see him a man of untiring industry, of spotless integrity, of 
 practical ability and sagacity, of the boldest independence and 
 sturdiest self-reliance ; a man of laborious investigation as 
 well as of prompt action, with a ready pen and an eloquent 
 tongue for defending and advocating w,hatever cause he 
 espoused, and whatever policy he adopted. Even those who 
 may have differed from him — as not a few, perhaps, did — 
 as to some of his earlier or of his later views of public affairs, 
 could never help admiring the earnest enthusiasm of his 
 character, and the unflinching courage with which he clung 
 to his own deliberate convictions of duty. Nor could any 
 one ever doubt that a sincere and ardent love of his country 
 and of his fellow-men, of political and of human liberty, was 
 the ruling passion of his heart. 
 
 And seldom, certainly, has there been witnessed among us 
 a more charming picture of a serene and honored old age than 
 that which he has presented during the last few years. 
 Patient under the weight of personal infirmities ; hopeful in 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 9 
 
 the face of public dangers and calamities ; full of delightful 
 reminiscences of the past, and taking an eager interest in 
 whatever might promote the welfare of the present ; grateful 
 to God for a long and happy life, and ready to remain or 
 depart as it might please Him, — he seemed, so far as human 
 judgment might presume to pronounce, to have attained a 
 full measure of that wisdom of which it is written, " Length 
 of days is in her right hand ; and, in her left, riches and 
 honor." 
 
 Not many years ago, he prepared an agricultural Essay, 
 which is now on our table. Not many months ago, and when 
 he was on the eve of his ninety-second birthday, I met him at 
 the Cambridge Observatory, coming to visit the institution 
 which had been a special object of his interest and of his 
 bounty, and to take a last look, as he said, at the great 
 revealer of the stars. Still later, I found him in his own 
 library, reading Thucydides, and applying the matchless 
 periods of Pericles to the dangers of our dear land, and to the 
 heroic deaths of so many of our brave young men. Nothing 
 seemed wanting to complete the picture of such an old age 
 as was described by the great Roman orator, and exemplified 
 by the great Roman censor. Nor would it be easy to find 
 a better illustration than his last years afforded of those 
 exquisite words in which the great poet of the English lakes 
 has translated and expanded one of the most striking passages 
 of that consummate essay of Cicero : — 
 
 " Rightly it is said 
 That man descends into the vale of years; 
 Yet have I thought that we might also speak, 
 And not presumptuously, I trust, of age 
 As of a final Eminence; though bare 
 In aspect and forbidding, yet a point 
 On which 'tis not impossible to sit 
 In awful sovereignty; a place of power, 
 A throne, that may be likened unto his, 
 Who, in some placid day of summer, looks 
 Down from a mountain-top." 
 
10 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 It only remains for me, gentlemen, to call yonr attention to 
 the resolutions of your Standing Committee, which will be 
 rei^orted by the Rev. Dr. Ellis. 
 
 Dr. Ellis, from the Standing Committee, offered the 
 following resolutions : — 
 
 Resolved, Xhf^t, in tlie death of Josiah Quincy, — whose name has 
 stood on our roll sixty-eight years, and for the last seventeen years 
 has led the list of our members, — this Society shares in an especial 
 manner in the feelings which have been manifested through our whole 
 community. We honored liim for the highest private virtues, and for 
 very many services to the public in the long succession and the large 
 variety of the offices which he filled, and the trusts which he dis- 
 charged. We recognized in him a combination of the noblest prin- 
 ciples which we venerate in the fathers of the CommouAvealth, and 
 the elder patriots of the land who were also his friends. His lofty 
 integrity, his large and wise public spirit, the utility of his enterprises, 
 and the practical benefits which are now enjoyed by us as their results, 
 will assure to his name and memory enduring honors. 
 
 Resolved, That the President be requested to name one of our asso- 
 ciates to prepare the usual Memoir. 
 
 Dr. Ellis then spoke as follows : —7 
 
 The members of this Society, representing all the interests 
 and pursuits of our higher social, civil, and literary elements, 
 may heartily engage in this sincere tribute to the honored and 
 venerated Nestor of our fellowship. He was the object of 
 our common regard, and that of no ordinary sort or measure- 
 ment. We loved to see him in these halls, if only as a silent 
 listener ; feeling that he helped us largely to realize hist'ory, 
 and to connect the years that arc gone by their best memories 
 and virtues with our own living days. We loved more to 
 hear his firm voice, as he stood erect under his burden of 
 years, assuring to us an unchanging individual identity. We 
 waited upon his always authentic and instructive utterances, 
 whether from the stores of a faithful memory, or from those 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 11 
 
 almost printed manuscripts on which he had inscribed the 
 terse matter, brief and fuU, which he had to communicate. 
 Now that his own lips are closed, and we can no longer hold 
 that delightful converse with him in which he made the men 
 and the events of the two generations behind us to live with 
 all their glow of vitality, we must look to books to tell us 
 what was his own place and influence among them. He has 
 told many of us his first recollection — a memory that might 
 well stamp itself deep and strong — of his looking out from a 
 carriage on the British redcoats at their lines on Roxbury Neck, 
 a child of three years, when his mother, the widow of his patriot 
 father, was among the last allowed to leave this then beleag- 
 uered town. He has prepared with his own pen the full auto- 
 biographic record of that part of his life which covers his 
 political career, with its antagonisms, its sharp party strifes, 
 its sympathies and antipathies for the soul of a good and true 
 man. His own individuality in forming and holding to a con- 
 viction, of which the younger of us are not uninformed, stands 
 attested on the records alike of the National and State Legis- 
 lature, where he is found in each place voting in a minority of 
 one. Let us hope that we shall not have over long to wait for 
 the full memorial of him from the most fitting hands and 
 the closest confidential trust to which he committed all his 
 private papers. We may assure ourselves, that, even when 
 those papers deal with what is antiquated to us, it will be 
 in a way which will renew in them the fire and the vigor of 
 life. 
 
 Besides a largo number of pamphlets, Mr. Quincy has con- 
 tributed to our shelves seven substantial volumes of biography 
 and history, the subjects of which cover the career of some 
 of his own contemporaries, or relate the annals and fortunes of 
 institutions in which he himself held conspicuous trusts, and 
 for which he did eminent service. 
 
 His long life was led through times and events of moment- 
 
12 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 ous interest, beginning and ending at revolutionary epochs, 
 divided by nearly a century of years. His associates and 
 correspondents all through his career were men of eminence, 
 of place, and of high personal qualities. He was himself- the 
 equal of the best and ablest of them. The qualities of those 
 times entered almost into his composition and organization ; 
 they wholly controlled and exercised the development of 
 his character and the direction of his life ; and, while we share 
 this common interest in him and in his career, there is hardly 
 a member of this Society but had some special relationship of 
 acquaintance or obligation with him, in his own private, pro- 
 fessional, socialjor civil range. Mr. Quincy held a succession 
 of oflSces which gave him more than a functional headship over 
 each of the learned professions, and a magisterial or advisory 
 supervision of the various and most heterogeneous practical 
 affairs of society. It is for that variety of service, performed 
 uniformly with rare fidelity and with consummate ability, leav- 
 ing permanent helps and advanced positions for all his 
 successors, that we must speak of him with admiration and 
 gratitude. 
 
 There is a stage or period in the development of every 
 institution and organization, of progressive possibilities and 
 capacities, when it needs the quickening or restorative skill 
 of a man of practical energy, independent spirit, and firm will. 
 One of the most characteristic distinctions of Mr. Quincy was 
 his fitness for the successive offices which he filled at the time 
 when he entered upon them, and in the condition in which he 
 found them. Critical and exciting were the demands and the 
 responsibilities attending respectively the Chief Magistracy 
 of this city and the Presidency of the College, when he 
 assumed those trusts. He found city and college alike in 
 transition states, from old methods, limited purposes, restricted 
 means, inconveniences and embarrassments, to more expan- 
 sive, generous, and comprehensive possibilities, to the attain- 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 13 
 
 ment of which they needed the foresight of a large directing 
 mind, and the guidance of an independent and bold spirit. 
 
 This city is deeply indebted to Mr. Quincy for many of those 
 admirable elements in its works of utility, its institutions, and 
 its present principles of municipal administration, our own 
 pride in which finds its full warrant in the encomiums they 
 have received from over our whole land and from abroad. 
 Its streets, market, schools, and other public edifices, testify 
 -that while he was providing wisely, though some thought 
 rashly, for what to him was the present, he had in view the 
 much larger demands — we all know now how reasonable and 
 moderate the provision for them — of a near future. Some- 
 times his schemes and plans were devised and pursued by his 
 own fertility of faculty, under his own sole advocacy and reso- 
 lute persistency of purpose. Sometimes he had the sympathy 
 and co-operation of a few strong and Avise supporters against 
 sharp opposition from prominent individuals or a popular 
 party. I never heard that in this office, or, indeed, in any 
 other, he ever gave over any purpose or aim which he had 
 proposed ; nor can I recall a case in which any successor of 
 his has undone his work. He loved what is good in popular- 
 ity, and was utterly indifferent to the other ingredients of it; 
 being quite an independent judge as to what constituted those 
 respective elements of popularity. Of course, a man of his 
 always rigidly upright, often stern, and sometimes severe 
 spirit in the works of reform and improvement, especially 
 those into which he threw the most of his own earnestness 
 and pride as their originator, would be sure to meet many 
 opponents. His opponents might also become his personal 
 enemies, — a condition, however, contingent on his own feel- 
 ing or judgment as to whether he should or should not so 
 regard them. The younger portion of us are told of his ardor, 
 his impetuosity, his severity of sarcasm and rebuke, in old 
 political strifes. We are the rather prepared to believe this, 
 
14 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 Avlien, besides assuring ourselves, that, in his earlier life, men 
 and measures engaged his attention which were likely to 
 require just such treatment from a man of his rectitude and 
 independence, we call before us his looks and tones as at 
 times we have seen and heard him. He was compacted of 
 Roman and Puritan virtues, allowing for the two meanings of 
 virtue as preceded by either or both those epithets. He was 
 able to stand the brunt of all tlie opposition which he 
 provoked. He stood so clear of all imputations of sinister 
 or selfish purpose, that, when his schemes and enterprises 
 were challenged, he could give his whole advocacy to them, 
 without any incidental effort for self-defence. He saw 
 some stormy days, and was himself the subject of occasional 
 hostility. He had to read the Riot Act, and to hear an angry 
 mob surging threateningly near his own dwelling. The 
 second line of an ode of his favorite Roman poet — Civium 
 ardor prava Juhentium — must often have come to his lips, 
 though not without generous variations for the word prava. 
 But none of those citizens would have disputed to him the 
 application of the whole of the first line, Justum ei tenacem 
 propositi virum : though they might liave preferred to empha- 
 size the Tenax propositi. 
 
 Having, after six years of this city service, declined to be 
 a candidate for re-election as Mayor, he was ready for quite 
 another sphere in the College, which was also in a condition 
 to require wise and energetic oversight. He began there, as 
 he began everywhere, by acquainting himself with facts and 
 phenomena, faults, needed changes, improvements, and the 
 Avay and means for them. He put things to rights. He 
 asserted his headship. He renewed, invigorated, expanded, 
 enriched every old department of the University, and added 
 largely to its scope and resources. He sometimes stood 
 between the students and the authorities. He always stood 
 over the students, — harsh and imperious occasionally in 
 
 / 
 
 I 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 15 
 
 word and aspect, faithful and friendly in counsel and feeling. 
 They generally found out that the condition for respecting 
 him was to understand him, and that the condition for loving 
 him was to have no reason for being afraid of him. There are 
 men doing noble service in all the professions around us, whose 
 charges were borne by his private benevolence, while their 
 spirits were cheered by his rallying encouragement. The 
 question, I remember, was often discussed, whether he had 
 real strong sympathies for young men, — could deal with 
 them by wise allowances and gentle tolerances. Some said, 
 that having striven with politicians, and presided over boards 
 of aldermen and councilmen, and disciplined a fire and a 
 police department, he sometimes confused the situation, and 
 mistook his measures in his academic sphere. Candor and 
 justice will be satisfied with the judgment, that, while there 
 might have been reason for raising the question, — which, in 
 fact, was one likely to suggest itself, — there was no reason for 
 deciding the question in the slightest degree unfavorably to 
 the fitness, the grace, or the conspicuous success, of his admin- 
 istration of the College. The living alumni of his sixteen 
 classes will not fail of bearing some form of testimony to this. 
 It was characteristic of him that he should have written the 
 History of the College down to his own time. The continua- 
 tion of it will have a good start from him. Those beautiful ap- 
 pearances of his of late years on its public days have been the 
 joy of its alumni, and have drawn glorious tributes to him. 
 Nor can one forget, in connection with his life at Cambridge, 
 the generous and refined hospitalities of his home, discharged 
 with such grace and dignity by that admirable lady who filled 
 out the ideal of the old-school refinement and accomplish- 
 ment. 
 
 We are sometimes helped to a knowledge of a man's excel- 
 lences by observing in him some of those characteristics which 
 are called prejudices. One of those convictions held by Mr. 
 
16 MASSACHUSETTS HISTOEICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 Quincy Avas, that it was an injury to onr young men to travel 
 or study in Europe. Many of his pupils can call to mind, that, 
 on informing him of their purpose to go abroad, they received 
 from him the frank avowal, '' I am sorry for it. The chances 
 are that you will be ruined by it. But I hope not." He had 
 never been abroad. When he was most free to go, he had no 
 desire to do so. He was an American result of modified Eng- 
 lish antecedents. A true peer in nature and mien, unable to 
 make himself honestly a democrat, he schooled himself to a 
 special discipleship of an independent republicanism. He 
 thought that he and his country had got all of good that 
 England had to give ; and as for the other foreign nationalities 
 and their ways, they certainly did not present to him their 
 enviable side or qualities. Coming of a Puritan lineage, 
 through an ancestral line which had discharged the trusts 
 involved in the developing of a wilderness colony onward to 
 a self-governed commonwealth, he kept strong hold of the 
 firm-set pillars of the fabric. To a thoroughly sincere piety, 
 and a most reverential tone of devotion, he joined a spirit of 
 independent inquiry and a demand for reasonable convictions 
 in matters of religion. No layman could at the time have been 
 set over the University who could better than himself have 
 softened the shock or the reminder of the change in usage 
 and observance from a clerical headship. 
 
 The honors and labors of his life had a felicitous consum- 
 mation mingled of dignity and of beauty. It presented one 
 of those very rare cases in which providential allotments, 
 combined with human conditions and the peculiarities of a 
 marked individuality, gathered their finest garland for a crown 
 of tranquil and revered old age. This afforded opportunities 
 for the mellowing of character, for the turning of all sternness 
 into a self-searching of principles, motives, and actions, and 
 for the vindication before all critical eyes of the well-tried 
 integrity which had never faltered. The last decade of his 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 17 
 
 years was numbered, one by one, by some new token of the 
 deepening interest and respect of our whole community. His 
 calendar, as it advanced, was announced in the papers. The 
 literary and oratorical fruits of his long harvest were credited 
 to the verification of his own theory, that the way in which 
 an old man should keep his mind from wearing out is to 
 keep it hard at work. 
 
 He had hoped that he might live to see the end of this 
 fearful civil strife which convulses our land, and which so 
 stirred the fire of his noble inborn, high-taught patriotism. 
 But, whether or not that should be so, his faith outran his 
 hope; and he believed that it could have but one possible 
 end, and that a righteous one, leaving us still a nation, but 
 chastened and purified. If any one asked him of the cause 
 and purpose of the war, he would have been likely to have 
 referred his questioner to certain prophetic utterances of 
 his own in the Congress of the United States, in January, 
 1811. 
 
 A full serenity of scene and feeling attended his release 
 from life, by that rarest of all human experiences, a natural 
 death, as the ripe fruit falls from the unshaken bough in the 
 still air. He was waiting to be called, and Avas just beginning 
 to fear delay in the summons. He lived at last for simple 
 rest, and musing on the gleanings of thought from liis last 
 readings of his favorite moralists and philosophers, Cicero and 
 Lord Bacon ; trusting his memory and his spirit for diviner 
 nutriment. To the end he read and wrote ; and, because they 
 were the last transcript from his pen, he has enhanced the 
 sweet and gracious piety of the lines of Addison, which he 
 copied as his hand was losing its cunning: — 
 
 " When all thy mercies, my God! 
 My rising soul surveys, 
 Transported with the view, I'm lost 
 In wonder, love, and praise." 
 
18 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 Djnng in Quincy, receiving funeral honors in Boston, borne 
 to his grave through Cambridge, and resting now on the slope 
 of Harvard Hill in Mount Auburn, the closing scenes covered 
 those of his life's labor and happiness. We may share his 
 own strong hope of immortality, and believe that his life is 
 rounded by something better than a sleep. 
 
 Mr, Everett, in rising to second the resolutions of Dr. 
 Ellis, said, — 
 
 I have been requested, Mr. President, by the Standing 
 Committee, to second the resolutions offered by Dr. Ellis ; and 
 I do it with the greatest pleasure, although his carefully pre- 
 pared, just, and eloquent analysis of President Quincy's cha- 
 racter, and your own pertinent, feeling, and most impressive 
 address, have left me little to say. An opportunity will per- 
 haps be afforded me next week of paying a tribute to his 
 memory in another place ; but I must ask your indulgence for 
 a few moments at this time, to give utterance to the feelings 
 which we all share, and which have been so eloquently 
 expressed by the gentlemen who have preceded me. 
 
 You have, Mr. President, justly intimated the reasons for 
 which President Quincy's decease should be noticed in the 
 most respectful manner within these walls. He became a 
 member of our Society in early life, and was considerably our 
 senior associate. He took a lively interest in the Society, and 
 missed no opportunity of promoting its welfare; attending its 
 meetings occasionally down to the last months of his pro- 
 tracted life. Besides this, he co-operated with the Society in 
 its appropriate labors, enriching the literature of the country 
 with a series of historical works of high and recognized value, 
 two of them prepared at the instance of the Society. Still 
 more, sir, it may be truly said, that he not only wrote history, 
 but made it, in the spliere (and that a most diversified and 
 elevated sphere) in which he moved ; exhibiting through life 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 19 
 
 those marked qualities, Avhich, by sympathy, infuse moral 
 strength into a community, and animate other men to the 
 efforts by which individuals and nations obtain an honorable 
 place in the annals of mankind. 
 
 I have said, sir, that President Quincy's historical works 
 had a high recognized value ; and most certainly, if his vigor- 
 ous intellect, methodical studies, his untiring industry, and 
 his great facility of labor, had borne no other fruit, the series 
 of his historical publications would have given him, though not 
 a man of letters by profession, a most respectable place among 
 American authors. With the exception of Congressional 
 speeches, and occasional essays on the topics of the day, his 
 first work of considerable compass was prompted at once by 
 filial affection and patriot duty : I mean the Memoir of his 
 honored father, one of the most distinguished of those referred 
 to by you, sir, who prepared the minds of their countrymen 
 for the Revolution. He had the kindness to afford me an 
 opportunity of perusing it in manuscript. It was appropriate- 
 ly published in 1825, at the close of the first half-century. It 
 contained the journals and copies of some of the letters of 
 the lamented subject of the Memoir, especially those written 
 during his short visit to England in 1774-5, — the last year of 
 his life ; and I can truly say, that there is no volume which 
 to the present day I read with equal interest for the events 
 of that memorable year, as contemplated by an eye-witness 
 — and such an eye-witness — in England. He had the ines- 
 timable privilege of hearing the two speeches made by Lord 
 Chatham, on the 20th January, 1775, declared by h'is son, 
 William Pitt, " to be surely the two finest speeches ever 
 made, unless by himself." Of these speeches Mr. Quincy 
 made a full report from memory, and from a few notes he was 
 able to take at the time. It is in some parts evidently a 
 more accurate report than that published by Dodsley in 1779, 
 after Lord Chatham's death, from notes by Hugh Boyd. 
 
20 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 Portions of Mr. Quincy's report were published in Gordon's 
 letters on the Revolution ; Mr. Quincy's papers having been 
 placed in his hands while composing that work. The last 
 entry in Mr. Quincy's journal is, '' Had great satisfaction in 
 reading my report of the debates in the House of Lords to 
 one or two friends who heard them. They thought them 
 exceedingly correct, and were amazed at the blunders, omis- 
 sions, and misrepresentations of the printed accounts." Presi- 
 dent Quincy's Memoir of his father also contains the journal 
 of a visit made by him to Charleston, S.C, in 1773, and which 
 is of extreme interest. This youthful patriot, as you have 
 stated, sir, died on the return voyage from Europe, and within 
 sight of the granite cliffs of New England ; young in years 
 alone, mature in wisdom, patriotism, and public service. 
 When we reflect that he was taken from the country at the 
 age of thirty-one, we cannot suppress the thought, that a 
 gracious compensation was designed by Providence in pro- 
 longing the years of the son to thrice that duration. 
 
 The History of the University is next in order of time, 
 as it is the most voluminous and elaborate of President 
 Quincy's works. It was suggested by the duty which de- 
 volved upon him on the memorable occasion of the second 
 centennial anniversary of the institution. It was obviously, 
 on the part of the President, a work at once of affection and 
 duty. It embodies all those portions of the records of the 
 University which throw light on its general history ; on its 
 feeble but hopeful beginnings ; its gradual development in the 
 succeeding generations and in the last century ; its rapid 
 expansion in the present century. It exhibits the noble 
 steadiness with which Old Harvard has maintained itself 
 through the storms of two centuries, and its re-active influ- 
 ence on the public opinion of the country. Especial pains was 
 taken by President Quincy to do justice to the characters of 
 the distinguished benefactors and patrons of the College, from 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 21 
 
 the ever-memorable Harvard to the present day. These and 
 other pertinent and kindred topics are treated in his History 
 in appropriate detail, according to their respective interest 
 and importance, in a clear and vigorous, and, when the topic 
 admitted, eloquent style of idiomatic English ; the whole 
 forming a repository, which, next to the original records them- 
 selves, will constitute the standard authority for the history 
 of the institution, till its prosperous growth, as we may hope, 
 ' through two more centuries, shall require other volumes and 
 other dutiful pens to record its multiplied benefactors, its 
 extended usefulness, and ever-growing honors. 
 
 President Quincy's next historical work of considerable 
 compass, in the order of publication, was the History of the 
 Town and City of Boston. Like the History of the University, 
 this work grew out of an anniversary discourse ; viz., that 
 which he delivered at the second centennial anniversary of the 
 city. Supended during his presidency at Cambridge, its prep- 
 aration was resumed immediately upon his resignation of 
 that high trust. This History, like that of the College, was 
 truly a labor of love. The family of President Quincy had 
 been identified with Boston from the foundation. His ances- 
 tor came over with John Cotton ; and the position of his 
 descendants had been maintained, in honor and influence, 
 through all the succeeding generations. His father had taken 
 an active part in all the memorable occurrences which had 
 turned the eyes of the civilized world on Boston after the pas- 
 sage of the Stamp Act : the President himself, born and bred 
 in Boston, had represented her in the State Legislature and 
 in Congress ; and, in the infancy of the new civic organization, 
 he had served her at the head of its municipality for six years. 
 Thus was he eminently a Bostonian of the Bostonians. The 
 chief part of the work is naturally devoted to an account of 
 the writer's administration, and of the series of measures rela- 
 tive to its public buildings, its markets, the eleemosynary 
 
22 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 establishments, the fire-department, the schools, and other 
 municipal interests, in which the public spirit, the executive 
 ability, and moral courage, displayed by Mayor Quincy, cannot 
 fail to awaken at once the admiration and gratitude of the 
 citizens of Boston. 
 
 In 1845 appeared the revised edition of Graham's " History 
 of the United States." It was published under the superin- 
 tendence of a committee of the Historical Society, consisting 
 of President QuiiTcy and two or three other respected mem- 
 bers. The first volume of this work contained a Memoir of 
 James Graham, prepared, in compliance with a resolution 
 of the Society, by Mr. Quincy, and embodying all that is per- 
 sonally known of a writer who cherished a warm and consist- 
 ent affection for this country, and did more than any other 
 foreigner to extend the knowledge of it abroad. 
 
 In 1847, and being then at the advanced age of seventy- 
 five, Mr. Quincy, at the request of the late Mr. R. G. Shaw, 
 prepared for publication the journals of their kinsman, Major 
 Samuel Shaw, with a Memoir of his life. This most excellent 
 gentleman not only served with great credit through the 
 whole Revolutionary War, receiving at its close an emphatic 
 testimonial from Washington, but he sailed in the vessel which 
 opened the trade to China, as the agent of an association of 
 capitalists formed for that purpose ; and was appointed first 
 American consul to Canton under the old confederation, and 
 afterwards by President Washington. President Quincy's 
 Memoir is a highly interesting contribution to the history both 
 of the Revolution and of American commerce, a just tribute 
 to the memory of a man of sterling merit, and well worthy the 
 pen of the distinguished writer. 
 
 The year 1847 was signalized by the death of John 
 Quincy Adams at the post of duty, and in the capital of the 
 United States. He was the distant relative, the neighbor, 
 the contemporary, the confidential friend, of Mr. Quincy; and, 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 23 
 
 at the request of our Society, the duty of paying the last 
 tribute of respect to the memory of the illustrious departed 
 devolved on him. He readily accepted the trust; and, instead 
 of confining himself within the limits of a Memoir of the ordi- 
 nary length, he drew up a volume of more than four hundred 
 pages, embracing a comprehensive history of the life and ser- 
 vices of Mr. Adams. The work did not make its appearance 
 till the year 1858, when the venerable author was in his 
 eighty-seventli year. I recollect no otlier instance in this 
 country of so large a work from a person so far stricken in 
 years ; but I perceive in it no abatement of intellectual 
 power. In a modest prefatory note, it is stated to be the 
 object of the writer to narrate the political life of Mr. Adams 
 from his published works, from authentic unpublished ma- 
 terials and personal acquaintance, and in this way to make 
 him the expositor of his own motives, principles, and charac- 
 ter, in the spirit neither of criticism nor eulogy. This diffi- 
 cult and delicate task was performed by the venerable author 
 with signal success ; and with this the series of his elaborate 
 historical efforts closes. I need not say, that, with his other 
 occasional literary labors, — several of which, such as the 
 History of the Boston Athenteum, which I ought to have 
 included in the series, were of a nature to require no little 
 time and research in their preparation, — they form what 
 would, in almost any case, be considered the life-work of an 
 industrious man. But, till his retirement from the presidency 
 of Harvard at the age of seventy-three, Mr. Quincy's literary 
 labors must have been all prepared in the brief intervals of 
 leisure allowed by engrossing official duties and cares. While, 
 therefore, they would have given him an enviable reputation 
 had he been exclusively or even mainly a man of letters, it 
 must be remembered, that, in his case, the writer was over- 
 shadowed by the active relations — political, judicial, muni- 
 cipal, and academic — in which he stood to his day and 
 
24 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 generation. On these I need not attempt to dwell : but when 
 we consider that Mr. Quincy was for years, and with a brilliant 
 reputation both for business and debate, the representative 
 of Boston, both in the State Legislature and in Congress, 
 an acknowledged leader of the political party to which he 
 belonged ; that, as a judge, his term of office, though short, 
 was signalized by a most memorable decision, relative to the 
 law of libel ; that, as Mayor of Boston for six years, — an office 
 assumed under all the difficulties of the transition state to 
 which Dr. Ellis has alluded, — his administration was dis- 
 tinguished for the most important improvements and reforms ; 
 and lastly, that, with great acceptance and public favor, he 
 presided over the oldest literary institution in the country, 
 bringing to the arduous and responsible station a variety of 
 qualifications, administrative and literary, intellectual and 
 moral, rarely if ever combined in one man, and most certainly 
 never surpassed ; and that, having in an advanced but vigor- 
 ous age become emeritus in this long and honorable career, 
 instead of indulging in the repose conceded to the decline of 
 life, he continued for twenty years, by word and deed, to per- 
 form all the duties of an active patriot, vigilant for the public 
 weal, jealous for the public honor, and full of courage and confi- 
 dence in the darkest hours of the present tremendous struggle ; 
 adding, finally, to all his other titles of respect and honor, the 
 authority which length of years, attended with virtue and 
 wisdom, can alone confer, — we must all feel, we do all feel, as 
 we gather round the grave of President Quincy, that we have 
 
 lost our FIRST CITIZEN. 
 
 Mr. Everett was followed by the Hon. Richard H. 
 Dana, Jun., who spoke as follows: — 
 
 Mr, President, — I have received from the Standing Com- 
 mittee a request to say a few words on this occasion, — a 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 25 
 
 privilege which I suppose I owe rather to a family friendship 
 with the honored deceased than certainly to any personal 
 claims. It is hardly for me to speak of one, who had lived 
 nearly his half-century before I was born, in the presence of 
 so many who knew him so much longer and more intimately 
 than I can claim to have done, though he honored me beyond 
 my deserts. Before such an assembly as this, sir, I shall 
 attempt no more than to notice one characteristic of Mr. 
 Quincy ; and, as to that, rather to speak of the effect he 
 always produced upon me, than to offer an opinion or analysis 
 of his mental constitution. 
 
 Mr. Quincy was a nobleman. He filled out our ideal of what 
 the nobleman should be where nobles or conscript fathers 
 rule in society and in the State. He had the merits, and he 
 partook somewhat of the defects, of that character. He was 
 favored by nature with the front, the station, the voice, the 
 manner, that should belong to the nobleman: and, still more, 
 he had in his soul the true temper of nobility. His was 
 a lofty, high-toned character, — some perhaps would say, a 
 proud and rather high-strung temper. Honored members 
 have just told us, and told us Avith eloquence, and fulness 
 of detail, of his fidelity to all duties, his integrity, and his 
 laboriousness. It is for me only to tread this narrow path, 
 beset with delicacies, and to recall to myself and you the 
 high-spirited, chivalrous gentleman. Thackeray says that 
 the " grand manner " has gone out. It had not gone out 
 Avith us while Mr. Quincy lived. A boy at school, when 
 he came to Cambridge, I met a man in the street, who, I felt 
 sure from his style, must be Mr. Quincy, and raised my hat to 
 him, and received a most gracious bow in return. It was 
 he ; and he could be recognized anywhere by any one on the 
 look-out for a high character among the highest. 
 
 A good deal has been said to-day, and well said, of 
 the spirit of liberty that inspired his father, and rested 
 
 4 
 
26 MASSACFIUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 on the son. I do not doubt or mean to disparage devotion to 
 the liberties of all human beings; but there was in the men 
 of that day a love of independence, that was no small element 
 among the causes of our Revolution. Remember, brethren, 
 that we were provincials, — governed by a class of crowned, 
 coroneted, and mitred men living in another hemisphere, in 
 whose privileges and dignities we could have no part. I can 
 conceive of men with little or no aversion to such dignities 
 in their own State, and with little confidence in political 
 equality, rising in indignant resistance to such a subordina- 
 tion as that. It was that proud devotion to independence 
 that Burke said united the holders of slaves in a common 
 cause with the free North. After our independence was 
 secured, when the conflict raged over half the world, between 
 the radical philosophy of the French revolutionists and the 
 conservative philosophy of Burke and England, the sym- 
 pathies of many, of most, of our highest patriots in New 
 England, were with the latter. 
 
 Mr. Quincy told me, not long before his death, that he had 
 the means of proving, from the private letters and journals 
 of the patriots who formed our Constitution and set it in 
 motion, that their chief apprehension for its permanency was 
 from what they feared would prove to be the incompatibility 
 between the two classes of men, the two systems of society 
 they would represent, who must control its policy and pa- 
 tronage. They feared an antagonism in a republic of equals, 
 — between what was substantially an oligarchy, founded on 
 slavery, and the free, mixed classes of the North. It was the 
 more dangerous, because it was sectional and absolutely 
 restricted. There was a sectional class, an aristocracy, or 
 whatever else you may call it, with which the people of the 
 Northern States could take no part, excluded by their moral 
 convictions and by geographical laws. That this slavery, 
 which met their intellectual disapproval and their moral 
 
JOSIAH QUmCY. 27 
 
 aversion, was a matter of State control and responsibility, was 
 not enough. They feared that it would generate an aristo- 
 cratic spirit, which would tell on the national life and national 
 politics. They saw that it tended to foster an arrogating 
 political class. They knew that oligarchal classes, with their 
 interests, maxims, and sympathies, had often governed the 
 world. They feared that the antagonism, the incompati- 
 bility, between these classes and interests, would lead to a 
 separation ; the weaker section, whichever that might prove 
 to be, striking for its independence, — a separation made the 
 easier by the fact, that the sj^stems were separated by a geo- 
 graphical line. When I told him that I did not remember 
 this in the published writings of that day, his answer was, 
 that they earnestly desired a union for our strength and preser- 
 vation, and kept out of public discussion the tender points ; 
 but that I would find it in their letters and journals. 
 
 I allude to these subjects, Mr. President and brethren, I 
 beseech you to believe, in an assembly of gentlemen of all 
 shades of opinion, only because they explain the political 
 course of Mr. Quincy ; at least, in my opinion, throw some 
 light upon it. 
 
 It was Mr. Quincy's belief, — I do not wish to say here, on 
 this occasion, and before you, whether it was a true or an 
 unsound opinion; take it either way, — it was his opinion, 
 that such an antagonism, such a growing incompatibility, 
 existed from the first, and culminated gradually to the end. 
 It was his belief, that the struggle between the Federal and 
 Democratic parties was, to no small degree, a struggle be- 
 tween these interests. True, the lines were not so drawn. 
 Most of the questions and the issues framed Avere purely 
 political ; but he believed the overthrow of the Federal 
 party, and the installation of the Virginia dynasty, was a suc- 
 cess to the slaveholding class, since which the education and 
 property of New England have never had their share in the 
 
28 MASSACHUSETTS HISTORICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 government, unless in exceptional cases, and sometimes upon 
 what may be called special terms. 
 
 Mr. Quincy thought that the contest of 1820, on the admis- 
 sion of Missouri, was substantially a contest between these 
 classes and interests, and ended, as before, in a substantial 
 success of the sectional, oligarchal system. Such, too, he 
 believed to be, and with similar results, the struggle of 1850, 
 on the admission of California; and such the final struggle 
 of 1860, the first practical defeat of that class. 
 
 Now, sir, Mr. Quincy, so believing, so feeling, to the 
 depth of his being, was not of a temper to acquiesce in 
 that subordination. His independent spirit was enforced by 
 the moral aversion he had for the system on which that 
 dominant class founded its power. He could not bow to it. 
 No: he feared, in the critical winter of 1860-Gl, but one 
 result. That was not peaceable dissolution ; it was not Avar. 
 He feared only some compromise by which the slaveholding 
 class, with its maxims and interests, should gain a permanent, 
 social, and political ascendency over the free, mixed classes 
 of the North. That was the one result he could not bear. 
 Against that he would have been willing to rebel. Rather 
 than that, he would have seen the Union, much as he loved 
 and valued it, rent in twain, or severed into as many parts 
 as it might please God to divide it. 
 
 You will remember, sir, that I am not presenting the 
 highest view of Mr. Quincy's character. I know he loved 
 the largest liberty. He not only advocated, — that is cheap, 
 — he labored for, the greatest good of the greatest number. 
 He saw in the present struggle far more and greater things 
 tlian the political emancipation of the North from the control 
 of a sectional dynasty. 
 
 Mr. Quincy loved public life, public duties, and public 
 station. It is the more to his credit, that he never bowed, 
 never swerved, — nay, was never suspected of bowing or 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 29 
 
 swerving, — to mere popular opinion. He paid little respect to 
 mere numbers on a question of right and wrong. His creed 
 admitted no such blasphemy as that the voice of the majority 
 is the voice of God. Perhaps, indeed, his gallant spirit took 
 a little secret, unacknowledged satisfaction in being in a 
 brave minority. To no one may both parts of Lord Mans- 
 field's celebrated declaration be better applied than to him : 
 '' I love popularity ; but it is that popularity which follows, 
 not that which is run after." 
 
 I do not know, Mr. President, what may be the custom of 
 this Society on occasions like the present. I do not know 
 whether you ever present to yourselves here the reverse of 
 any picture of a deceased brother, — whether you ever exam- 
 ine here the weaving of the tapestry behind, by which the 
 best effects are produced. But as I am, and have always 
 been, an unfeigned admirer, devotee, of the heroic qualities 
 of Mr. Quincy, perhaps I can the better touch upon what may 
 be brought forward elsewhere, and what may have been con- 
 sidered in his lifetime, as defects. 
 
 I do not know what is the definition of bigotry. We ordi- 
 narily associate it with inquisitions and tortures ; but I sup- 
 pose it means only an undue confidence in and devotion to 
 our opinions, and is consistent with entire kindness, and 
 desire to do justice. In that scientific sense, if any one who 
 has differed from Mr. Quincy, and has felt the shock of his 
 collision, the congressus Achilli, should complain that he was 
 severe, and even bigoted, I should say, that the manliest 
 course was to admit, that, in that sense, there might be some 
 ground for the charge, and to set it down as one of the 
 infirmities of a great character, — one of those terms upon 
 which alone, in our imperfect condition here, we can obtain 
 such a fellowship and example. The denomination known 
 among us as the Orthodox Congregationalist have objected 
 that his " History of Harvard University " has not done them 
 
30 MASSACHUSETTS HISTOEICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 and their colleges justice in their relations to Harvard. I have 
 never read either side, and have no opinion on the question ; 
 but I have been told by good judges, partial to Mr. Quincy 
 and his side, that the complaint is not without foundation. 
 Such was his affection for Harvard and its supporters, such 
 his convictions in its favor, that he did not see readily the 
 qualifications and objections. Was it not so, too, in political 
 contests ? I am inclined to think we must admit that it 
 sometimes was. But, having been thus frank and candid, I 
 claim the right, in return, to remind you what these imper- 
 fections were, and from what they sprung. They sprung 
 from no ill nature, no indifference to the rights or feelings of 
 others, but from the depth and heartiness of his convictions. 
 
 Burke would not see — he could not see — Charles James 
 Fox, though on his death-bed, much as he loved him. Why? 
 Burke was so convinced that the French political philosophy, 
 to which Fox had lent the aid of his great influence, was 
 dangerous to social morals, and the very existence of any 
 respectable body politic, that he could not dissever the man 
 from the opinion. It is easy to say, that we must separate 
 ourselves and others from our and their opinions. Perhaps 
 superhuman beings would do so. If opinions are mere in- 
 tellectual tenets, or if they are the cards with which we play 
 the game of life, it were easy. Those men will find no diffi- 
 culty in doing that, with whom opinions on vital questions of 
 our relations to God and man, and the welfare of all here and 
 hereafter, are no more than opinions on natural science or 
 geographical statistics. If men are conscious, that, in them- 
 selves, there is no connection between their souls, their 
 characters, their entire natures, and their opinions, it is inex- 
 cusable in them not to make the distinction in dealing with 
 other men who differ from them. But, with Mr. Quincy, 
 opinions on vital questions were convictions. They took 
 deep root in his nature. They were inseparable from all he 
 
JOSIAH QUINCY. 31 
 
 valued or feared in himself, and all he respected or distrusted 
 in others. They might turn out to be right or wrong ; hut 
 they were drawn from the past, and bore upon the highest 
 duties of mankind in the present, and the destinies of man- 
 kind in the future. They might be right or wrong at last ; 
 but to him they were truths, and he treated them accord- 
 ingly. To his final convictions on vital questions, he was 
 ready to sacrifice all, — even life. How could he treat them 
 lightly? With such a character, on such questions, we need 
 not fear to meet complaints from those who have encountered 
 him front to front, — that he was severe, or even bigoted. 
 We have little sympathy with those complaints when they 
 come from men who met his scorn or rebuke for civil coward- 
 ice, or dereliction of duty. 
 
 It has been said that he was not a wise political leader. 
 He certainly showed wise forecast in his own affairs, and in 
 those of the city and university. In politics, he saw clearly 
 into general principles ; and, in many respects, divined remote 
 consequences. Still, I confess, I should not like to promise 
 myself or my party unreservedly to his guidance on the 
 policies of the day and hour. Perhaps the combination of 
 qualities in his nature, not easy to analyze, made him far- 
 sighted, and not good at near sight. Perhaps his tempera- 
 ment did not admit of his dealing with men and measures as 
 the policy of political management requires. 
 
 If I have erred in noticing these qualifications or defici- 
 encies in his constitution, it is a great gratification to believe 
 that in them I have noticed all the objections that have ever 
 been made against him. What brighter eulogy could I pass 
 upon Mr. Quincy than to say, that after a life spent in the 
 severest conflicts of municipal, academical, state, and national 
 life, in which he had much ungracious work to do, no charge 
 has ever been made against him? I honestly say, I never 
 heard of any, affecting in any way his private or public 
 
o'i MASSACHUSETTS HTSTOEICAL SOCIETY. 
 
 character, which I have not touched upon to-day, and before 
 you, his friends. 
 
 I would not underrate or gloss over, still less try to ren- 
 der attractive, imperfections, however usually attending- lofty 
 natures. But, if we regard the common opinion of mankind, 
 they are not those that the ordinary New-England character 
 most needs to be guarded against. The philosophy of Benja- 
 min Franklin has done too much towards lowering the tone 
 of the youth — I should rather say, of the partially educated 
 youth — of New England. Franklin deserved, sir, the statue 
 you helped to raise to him, and the eloquent oration with 
 which you inaugurated it ; for he did great things for science, 
 and rendered great services to his country in her struggle 
 for independence. He brought to the aid of his country 
 sagacity, energy, and patience, and shed much honor on our 
 infant name. But take from Benjamin Franklin what he did 
 for science and the independence of his country, and try him 
 alone upon his philosophy, and maxims for life, and I would 
 rather, a thousand times rather, that any one in whose veins 
 ran my blood, that any — all the youth of New England — 
 should look to the example of Josiah Quincy than to that of 
 Benjamin Franklin. 
 
 Mr. President, among all the true and gratifying commen- 
 dations that have been and will be passed upon Mr. Quincy, 
 I trust w^e shall not overlook nor keep in the background, 
 bat always put foremost, those qualities Avhich made him the 
 heroic, lofty gentleman. 
 
 The resolutions were then unanimously adopted. 
 
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