Some who have persuaded themselves that they saw in my occasional addresses to the people, incompatibility with the dignity and reserve belonging to the office I hold, I know not according to what standard, (it can hardly be any deduced from a popular representative government,) these gentlemen have regulated their opinions. True dignity appears to me to be independent of officeor station. It belongs to every condition; but if there be a difference between private and public life, the more exalted the station, the greater is the obligation of the public functionary, in my humble judgment, to render himself amiable, affable, and accessible. The public officer who displays a natural solicitude to defend himself against a charge deeply affecting his honor and his character, manifests, at the same time, a just respect for the community. It is, I think, an erroneous judgment of the nature of office, and its relations, to suppose that it imposes the duty on the officer, of abstracting himself from society, and a stiff and stately port. Without, I hope, forgetting what was due to myself, my habit, throughout life, has been that of friendly, free, and frank intercourse with my fellow-citizens. I have not thought it necessary to change my personal identity in any of the various offices through which I have passed, or to assume a new character. It may not be easy to draw the line, as to the occasions in which a man should remain silent, or defend himself. In the general, it is better, perhaps, that he should leave his public acts, and the measures which he espouses or carries, to their own vindication; but if his integrity be questioned, and dishonorable charges, under high and imposing names, be preferred against him, he cannot remain silent without a culpable insensibility to all that is valuable in human life.
Sir, I feel that I have trespassed too much, both upon you and myself. If prudence were a virtue of which I could boast, I should have spared both you and me. But I could not deny myself the gratification of expressing my thanks to my Cincinnati friends, for the numerous instances which I have experienced of their kind and respectful consideration. I beg you, sir, and every gentleman here attending, to accept my acknowledgments; and I especially owe them to the gentlemen of the committee, who did me the honor to meet me at Louisville, and accompany me to this city. Whatever may be my future destiny, whilst my faculties are preserved, I shall cherish a proud and grateful recollection of these testimonies of respect and attachment.
ON RETIRING FROM OFFICE.
AT WASHINGTON, MARCH 7, 1829.
[AT the close of Mr. Adams’s administration, Mr. Clay, having resigned his office of secretary of state before the inauguration of general Jackson as president of the United States, was invited to meet his friends at Washington city, and others from various parts of the union, at a public dinner, which he accepted, while preparing to return to the place of his residence at the west. On this occasion the fifth toast was:
‘Health, prosperity, and happiness to our highly valued and esteemed guest and fellow-citizen, Henry CLAY. Whatever the future destination of his life, he has done enough for honor, and need desire no higher reward than the deep seated affection and respect of his friends and his country.’
This having been received with much feeling and applause, Mr. Clay arose and addressed the company as follows:]
IN rising, Mr. President, to offer my respectful acknowledgments for the honors of which I am here the object, I must ask the indulgence of yourself and the other gentlemen now assembled, for an unaffected embarrassment, which is more sensibly felt than it can be distinctly expressed. This city has been the theatre of the greater portion of my public life. You, and others whom I now see, have been spectators of my public course and conduct. You and they are, if I may borrow a technical expression from an honorable profession of which you and I are both members, jurors of the vicinage. To a judgment rendered by those who have thus long known me, and by others though not of the panel, who have possessed equal opportunities of forming correct opinions, I most cheerfully submit. If the weight of human testimony should be estimated by the intelligence and respectability of the witness, and the extent of his knowledge of the matter on which he testifies, the highest consideration is due to that which has been this day spontaneously given. I shall ever cherish it with the most grateful recollection, and look back upon it with proud satisfaction.
I should be glad to feel that I could with any propriety abstain from any allusion at this time and at this place, to public affairs. But considering the occasion which has brought us together, the events which have preceded it, and the influence which they may exert upon the destinies of our country, my silence might be misinterpreted, and I think it therefore proper that I should embracethis first public opportunity which I have had of saying a few words, since the termination of the late memorable and embittered contest. It is far from my wish to continue or to revive the agitation with which that contest was attended. It is ended, for good or for evil. The nation wants repose. A majority of the people has decided, and from their decision there can and ought to be no appeal. Bowing, as I do, with profound respect to them, and to this exercise of their sovereign authority, I may nevertheless be allowed to retain and to express my own unchanged sentiments, even if they should not be in perfect coincidence with theirs. It is a source of high gratification to me to believe that I share these sentiments in common with more than half a million of freemen, possessing a degree of virtue, of intelligence, of religion, and of genuine patriotism, which, without disparagement to others, is unsurpassed, in the same number of men in this or any other country, in this or any other age.