EULOGY BY JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.
One of the brief periods in which Nat worked at his trade, after he commenced to study more systematically, was spent on the Mill Dam in Boston. At a machine-shop there, he pursued his business a short time, for the purpose of earning the means to defray his expenses while studying.
"John Quincy Adams is to deliver a eulogy on Madison at the old Federal Street Theatre to-morrow," said one of the hands.
"At what time?" inquired Nat.
"Ten o'clock is the time announced for the procession to form. It will probably be twelve o'clock before they get ready for the eulogy."
"I would go," said Nat, "if I had my best clothes here. I could go without losing much time at that hour."
"Did you ever hear John Quincy Adams?"
"No; and that is one reason why I wish to hear him. I have heard many of the distinguished men, but I have never had the opportunity to hear him. I think I shall go as I am."
"And have a representation of the machine-shop there," said his companion. "The nabobs will think you are crazy to come there without your broadcloth."
"Perhaps they would think my broadcloth was too coarse if I should wear it. But if they go to see my suit instead of hearing the eulogy, they are welcome to the sight."
"You will have to lose more time than you expect to; for there will be such a crowd that you cannot get in unless you go early; and you will have to go without your dinner too."
"Dinner is nothing," replied Nat. "It will not be the first time I have gone without my dinner, and supper too. I can leave here at half past eleven o'clock and be in season for the eulogy, and find a place to hear into the bargain. A very small place will hold me at such a time."
"But I prefer a chance to breathe when I can have it as well as not. It is no pleasure to me to go into such a crowd to hear the best speaker in the world. But every one to his taste."
"Yes," responded Nat; "and my taste is right the reverse. I would suffer a pretty good squeezing, and go dinnerless besides, to hear John Quincy Adams speak. I shall try it anyhow."
Nat was usually quite particular in regard to his personal appearance on public occasions. If his best suit had been at hand, he could not have been persuaded to go to hear the eulogy in his working apparel. But he was at work here only a short time, and was at home on the sabbath, so that he provided himself with only his laboring suit. And now we see how strong was his desire to hear the distinguished statesman; for it overcame his regard for his personal appearance so far that he was willing to appear in that assembly wearing his machine-shop apparel, rather than forego the pleasure of an intellectual pastime.
At the appointed time, on the day of the eulogy, Nat dropped his tools, and proceeded to wash himself, and make ready to go.
"Then you are determined to go?" said his companion.
"Yes; I never shall have a better chance to hear the sage of Quincy. I would like to show him a little more respect by donning my best suit if I could, but as it is, he must take the will for the deed."
"You'll cut a dash there among the gentry, I reckon, and perhaps receive more attention than the orator himself. They'll think you are some fellow who has got into the wrong pew."
"You had better conclude to go with me," said Nat, "and enjoy the sight. You will never know how much of a sensation I do create unless you are there to see."
"I'd rather be excused," replied his companion. "I can imagine enough here; besides I like a good dinner too well to go."
Nat hastened to Federal Street, and found the people crowding in very rapidly, and the exercises about commencing. He joined the throng, and was soon borne along with the current into the spacious building. If he had actually wanted to have skulked into some corner, it would have been impossible; for the assembly was so dense that he had no alternative but to remain stationary, or to be carried along by the mass. It so happened that he joined the multitude just in season to be borne well along into the area of the building, in front of the rostrum; and there he was in his working apparel, in full view of hundreds of eyes. Yet he scarcely thought of his clothing in his eagerness to hear the eulogy. It was upon the character of one with whose political life he was quite familiar, and this circumstance increased his interest. His old suit did not at all impair his sense of hearing, nor obscure the language of the orator. He never heard better in his life, and, in but few instances, never felt himself better paid for his effort to hear an oration.
It was known in the shop, before work began in the afternoon, that Nat had gone just as he was to hear the eulogy, and it created some merriment.
"He is a real book-worm," said one; "he always carries a book in his pocket to read when he is not at work."
"Well, I can hardly make out what he is, for he never says much," said another. "He seems to be thinking about something all the time, and yet he attends to his work. He is a queer genius, I guess."
"He is no ignoramus, you may depend on that," said a third. "A chap with such an eye as his knows his P's and Q's. He says little, and thinks the more."
"And then," added the first speaker, "a fellow who will go without his dinner to hear a speech must have a pretty good appetite for knowledge, unless he is obliged to diet."
"He'll have a good appetite for supper, I'm thinking," said another, rather dryly.
Nat heard the eulogy, and was back again to his work within three hours. There were some smiling faces as he entered the shop, and he could very readily read the thoughts behind them.
"Was you in time?" inquired the fellow-workman with whom he had the conversation about going.
"I could not have hit better," Nat replied, "if I had known the precise minute the eulogy would commence. It was good, too; and a greater crowd I never saw."
"There would not have been room for me if I had gone, then?"
"No; I just made out the complement. I took the last place there was, and it was a close fit for me."
"How did you like Mr. Adams?"
"Better than I expected. I had not formed a very exalted idea of his eloquence, perhaps because I have heard Webster and Everett, but he was really eloquent, and spoke evidently without any political or partisan prejudices. He appears older than I expected."
"He is getting to be an old man, and he has been through enough to make him gray long ago."
"I am glad to have heard him," added Nat. "Perhaps I might never have had another opportunity."
This incident is another illustration of the sacrifices Nat would make to hear public speakers, and to acquire knowledge, whenever he could. A commendable enthusiasm is apparent here as elsewhere, in seeking the object desired. All those leading traits of his character, that we have seen were so serviceable to him in other places, appear in this brief experience, while an unquenchable thirst for knowledge lay behind them to goad them on to victory.