John Quincy Adams Digital Diary

16. IV:30. Friday.

From Quincy to Boston—

To the rain of all yesterday succeeded a thick fog this morning, and a cloudy day with light showers and a clear evening. I made the Diary record of yesterday before breakfast— Mr Ayer breakfasted with me, and at half past 8. Gillet came with the Quincy Stage and took us to Boston— Mrs Patton Hall was also in the Stage, returning from a visit she has been making to Mrs John Greenleaf— I alighted at Charles’s house: immediately after which I went to Mr Page’s painting room, and sat about half an hour; at 11. O’Clock there came in quick succession about 20 gentlemen, the subscribers for whom this portrait had been painted—among whom were Richard Fletcher, Abbott Lawrence, Josiah Quincy jr. Jonathan Phillips, Isaac P. Davis, Joseph T. Buckingham, George Parkman, Ellis Gray Loring, Francis Jackson, Chapman, Shaw, a son of Robert G. Shaw, and some others, with whom I was not personally acquainted— After viewing the Portrait, Mr Loring addressed them, and said that it would now be necessary to determine what disposal to make of it— Mr Phillips was then chosen Chairman of the Meeting, and with five others was appointed a Committee to withdraw and report Resolution to the Meeting for adoption— The went accordingly and soon returned with a Resolution that the Portrait should be presented to the City of Boston, to be suspended in Faneuil Hall. This Resolution was unanimously adopted, and the same Committee were charged with the Office of presenting the picture to the City authorities. They then passed a vote of thanks to Mr Page, for the handsome execution of the work; and a motion was made for a vote of thanks to me, for the favour of sitting to the Painter—upon which I interposed, and said that I felt this would be an inversion of the part suitable to be performed between them and me— That the thanks were due from me to them, and that I offered them with the deepest sensibility to their kindness— That when requested by two of them to sit to the Artist, I had cheerfully complied without knowing or enquiring what was the purpose of the proposal, nor had a conjecture entered my mind upon this subject till I was now made acquainted with it— That I intreated them to believe that I felt it as an honour doubly precious, in the act itself, and in the delicacy of the manner in which it had been performed—and if the return of my thanks to them was not expressed in elegance of language suitable to the occasion, I hoped they would attribute the deficiency of words, to the pressure of an overburdened heart.— Mr Phillips the Chairman made a brief complimentary reply, and the meeting dispersed— I then went with Dr George Parkman to the house of Dr Bowditch, a son of the late Nathaniel Bowditch, and saw his library consisting chiefly of the Transactions of learned Societies, and works upon 658upon Astronomy— The present Doctor Bowditch’s wife, an English Lady, and his Sister, a daughter of the late Doctor were there— The Library was in the parlour— I then returned to Charles’s house, and Dr. Parkman took the Volume of Pearson’s practical Astronomy which he had borrowed for me— Mr P. C. Brooks dined with us at Charles’s—and I went and spent the Evening with Mr Abbott Lawrence. He is perhaps the most leading man of whig politics in Boston; though not at present in any public office.— I had much conversation with him upon the present condition and prospects, both of the national and State politics— Mrs Lawrence occasionally came in; and once with her son, a lad of about 12 years old.— Lawrence is a frank open hearted man, who with a good school but not classical education has made a large fortune, and lives in much Affluence and hospitality— He has been for many years devoted to Mr Webster and the main pillar of his support both pecuniary and political— He now thinks Webster has coalesced with Harrison against Clay upon the Presidential competition, and is himself for Clay— But such is the ascendancy of Webster over his party, that he treats his friends as Goldsmith says Garrick did his— He cast off his friends, as a huntsman his pack, For he knew, when he pleas’d, he could whistle them back—