The sun. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1833-1916, 1916-03-26
solrE NEW BOOKS.
G.. r. AAans's Confessions.

sO 80 bVsu ~ spSb tSSuAu ~ -" -
lovE. there come moments Of seif-ex.
Am2pAtion in which he thinks over enc
opportunities ~ Las lost and tells
himself how much better he could
have done II he mad known Or II things
had been otherwise. In some such
mood the late CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS
the most distinguished aud energetic
member in his generation Of his ia
nous family. wrote down the .iuto-
biography, which he entrusted to the
Massachusetts, Historical Society Ia
publish after his death (Houghton
Miflin Company: n book which Is
likely to stir matters up In the inner
circles Of Boston and OF Cambridge,
and h likely also to provide quotations
for years to come. He expresses his
opinions with the ruthless bluntness
and the ~epigrammatic vigor that are
characteristic Of the Adamses. and tho
reader will only regret that his range
In restricted practically to Massachu-
sets. The pungency OF his remarks
IL not diminished by the knowledge
that they were made by a man Of 20
who was looking at his youth ard life
with the experienced eyes Of those
later years. who was indignant that
changes he had s,riven to make had
not been put through, WHO found II
hard 10 forgive and who preferred TO
cali q spade by any name hat would
secure emphs sis. As a corrective the
view Of MFR. Adams's career that his
contemporaries hold, al expressed In
Henry Cabot Lodges memorial ad-
dress. Ia prefixed to Mr.. Adams's nc
count of himself.
Apparently Mr.. Adams shared the
general opinion that an Adams must
be cold biooded and undemonstrative:
h quotes with relish Lowell's cpigram
THE Adamses have a genius for say
ing ven n gracious thing u~ngracious.
IT," He shows some feeling for his
brother John. but Is reticent about his
other relatives. His grandfather and
father he treats as historical charac-
tiers and he finds fault with them for
not approaching the things the TWEEN
tiefh century admires. 1t Is the wrongs
done to himself that he examines and
the first person to he blamed liz his
father. my youth and education now
seem to me TO have been a skilfully
arranged series OF mist, .kes. first IN
tie part Of others and then IN my W.
part" He hated the house they lived
in In Mount Vernon street; partly. 1t
seems. because II did not have modern
conveniences. THE only desirable room
in the house my father fixed on for
his library regardless Of other con-
alterations "That house threw n
shadow across my whole early life.
And when. .forty-seven years later.
crossed the threshold for tho last time
and turned the key in the door I
walked away with a distinct sense of
relief. thanking God that chapter
was closed. I have not a single pleas
ant recollection associated with Il:
the house in which his father and
mother lived for almost half a Gen.
tury.
On the other hand ne had pleasant
memories OF the Adams place in
Quincy and describes with a sort Of
grudging enthusiasm the beauty Of the
old town and the country around. In
those lays Quincy vas by no means "A
bad place In which to r up" and he
and his older brother John. red
headed and freckle faced urchins." APP
pafently wandered about tho town
freely. He is bitter at the changes
that have taken place since : the place
was apparently endurable even In later
days. SO long as Mr.. Adams and his
brother ran It as a model town. but after
Il became a suburban city he moved out.
II have never set foot on Presidents
Hill since 1895. when ! partel with
the property. never mean to again.
The Quincy I knew has ceased to en-
ist. and with the present Quincy
have neither ties nor sympathy. In
fact ] never now go there without, as
] come away. drawing a breath Of deep
relief" Yet the Adams family had
held their land in Quincy since they
Arst came to America.
He vas nearly IS years OF age when
John Quincy Adams died. and. look.
Ing back. seems to feel somehow
cheated Of what was due to him from
. proper grandfather:
He was during the whole period I re.
member him an old man. absorbed In work
Nj public life. I can see him now. seated
1t hts table In the middle Of the laNe
east room. q very old looking gentleman
y ~ odlu utdu dhu White ITlnEe OF nAiT
writing. w~ritine-with 81 perpetual ink
stain on the forennser and thumb Of the
right hand. He was kind an considerate
to his grandchildren ana seemed TO like 20
have us In that library of his. but hsr was
no. a holiday temperament.
Though IN detail. different. my father
was In substance much the same. To their
own great misfortune neither Of them had
any real taste--no innate iove--for limo.
cent .outdoor amusement; tina, Is. ,hcy did
not core to get near to nature whether In
the woods or on tho water. They
were by inheritance ingrained Puritan.
end no Puritan by nature probably eve,
vas really omp nionable. OF the two
however. my grandfathe, was incompara
bly, the more active minded and interest
ta6. My father was built on
more rigid and narrower lines, Tie was
Asver the companion Of our sports and
Aoiidays. The Puritan wac In him and he
didn't know how!
His pathetic inability TO enjoy ma
ture or to be friendly with his children
10 the first mistake his son imputes n
HIM. The second was making young
Charles Francis live through the New
England Sunday Of his time, ,houg'!
how hat could have been avoided he
does not suggest. THE recollection OF
those Sundays haunts me low" IL
got. a dislike for roast beef which
lasted almost to manhood. beca Use |
had to eat 1t every sunday at 1880
lord. that going to church. Twice A
day. rain or shine. summer and win
ter" are his Calculations. and uhcp