nto his very soul when his memoirs were written:

"Moreover, a public officer may toil and labor all his best days
with the utmost fidelity and patriotism, and the masses who reap
the reward of his labors frequently permit him, without any particular
fault upon his part, to live and die in his old age with disrespect.
Witness the punishment inflicted on Socrates, on our Saviour,
and many others for no crime whatever. But this contumely and
disrespect ought not to deter _a good and qualified man_ from
entering the public service, if he is satisfied that the good of
the country requires it."

At this point in the career of this eminent public servant, deep
sympathy is aroused on account of the conflict between his humility
and a not very clearly-defined belief that something was due to
the great office to which he had been elevated. As preliminary,
however, to accomplishing what was for the best interests of the
people it must not be forgotten that "my first object was to soften
down the public mind to its sober senses." That no living man was
better qualified for the accomplishment of so praiseworthy a purpose
will now appear: "It has been my opinion of my humble self,
that whatever small forte I might possess was to conciliate and
soften down a turbulent and furious people."

This being all satisfactorily accomplished and the abundant reward
of the peacemaker in sure keeping for this humble instrument,
his efforts were now directed toward the discharge of the duties
of the office to which he had so unexpectedly been called.

That this hitherto unquestioned "friend of the people" was now
manifesting a slight tendency toward the frailties and vanities of
the common run of men, will appear from the following:

"It was my nature not to feel or appear elevated, but I discovered
that my appearance and deportment, at times, might look like affected
humility or mock modesty, which I sincerely despised, and then
_I would straighten up a little."_

It may be truly said of Reynolds, as Macaulay said of Horace Walpole:
"The conformation of his mind was such that whatever was little
seemed to him great; and whatever was great, seemed to him little."

Having in his inaugural given expression to the noble sentiment
that "proscription for opinion's sake is the worst enemy to the
Republic," he at once generously dispelled whatever apprehensions his
late opponents might feel as to what was to befall them, by the
assurance: