A GREAT PUBLIC CHARACTER, 99 



Quincy s length of years there was nothing that was not 

 venerable. To him it was fulfilment, not deprivation ; the 

 days were marked to the last for what they brought, not 

 for what they took away. 



The memory of what Mr. Quincy did will be lost in the 

 crowd of newer activities ; it is the memory of what he was 

 that is precious to us. Bonum virum facile crederes, mag 

 num libenter. If John Winthrop be the highest type of 

 the men who shaped New England, we can find no better 

 one of those whom New England has shaped than Josiah 

 Quincy. It is a figure that we can contemplate with more 

 than satisfaction a figure of admirable example in a de 

 mocracy as that of a model citizen. His courage and high- 

 mindedness were personal to him ; let us believe that his 

 integrity, his industry, his love of letters, his devotion to 

 duty, go in some sort to the credit of the society which gave 

 him birth and formed his character. In one respect he is 

 especially interesting to us, as belonging to a class of men 

 of whom he was the last representative, and whose like we 

 shall never see again. Born and bred in an age of greater 

 social distinction than ours, he was an aristocrat in a sense 

 that is good even in a republic. He had the sense of a cer 

 tain personal dignity inherent in him, and which could not 

 be alienated by any whim of the popular will. There is no 

 stouter buckler than this for independence of spirit, no 

 surer guaranty of that courtesy which, in its consideration 

 of others, is but paying a debt of self-respect. During his 

 presidency, Mr. Quincy was once riding to Cambridge in a 

 crowded omnibus. A coloured woman got in, and could 

 nowhere find a seat. The President instantly gave her his 

 own, and stood the rest of the way, a silent rebuke of the 

 general rudeness. He was a man of quality in the true 

 sense of quality not hereditary, but personal. Position 

 might be taken from him, but he remained where he was. 

 In what he valued most, his sense of personal worth, the 

 world s opinion could neither help nor hinder. We do not 

 mean that this was conscious in him ; if it had been, it 

 would have been a weakness. It was an instinct, and acted 



