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, magnum 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 democracy 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 distinctions than ours, he was an aristocrat in a sense
that is good even in a republic. He had the sense of a certain 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 colored 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 with the
force and promptitude proper to such. Let us hope that the scramble of
democracy will give us something as good; anything of so classic dignity
we shall not look to see again.

Josiah Quincy was no seeker of office; from first to last he and it were
drawn together by the mutual attraction of need and fitness, and it
clung to him as most men cling to it. The people often make blunders in
their choice; they are apt to mistake presence of speech for presence of
mind; they love so to help a man rise from the ranks, tha