saying to you, that if I am to occupy that Chair, I must go into it without pledges of any sort.

I have not sought the place. I have solicited no man's vote. At a meeting of the Whig members of the House last evening, (at which, however, I believe you were not present,) I was formally nominated as the Whig candidate for Speaker, and I have accepted the nomination.

But I have uniformly said to all who have inquired of me, that my policy in organizing the House must be sought for in my general conduct and character as a public man.

I have been for seven years a member of Congress from our common State of Massachusetts. My votes are on record. My speeches are in print. If they have not been such as to inspire confidence in my course, nothing that I could get up for the occasion, in the shape of pledges or declarations of purpose, ought to do so.

Still less could I feel it consistent with my own honor, after having received and accepted a general nomination, and just on the eve of the election, to frame answers to specific questions, like those which you have proposed, to be shown to a few gentlemen, as you suggest, and to be withheld from the great body of the Whigs.

Deeply, therefore, as I should regret to lose the distinction which the Whigs in Congress have offered to me, and through me to New England, for want of the aid of a Massachusetts vote, I must yet respectfully decline any more direct reply to the interrogatories which your letter contains.

I remain, with every sentiment of personal esteem,

Your friend and servant,

Hon. J. G. Palfrey, &c.,&c.

22

52

ROBERT C. WINTHROP.

THE DEATH OF JOHN QUINCY ADAMS.

ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE DEATH OF EX-PRESIDENT ADAMS TO THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES OF THE UNITED STATES, FEBRUARY 24, 1848.

GENTLEMEN OF THE HOUSE OF RepresentativES OF THE UNITED STATES,

IT has been thought fit that the Chair should announce offi cially to the House, an event already known to the members individually, and which has filled all our hearts with sadness.

A seat on this floor has been vacated, towards which all eyes have been accustomed to turn with no common interest.

A voice has been hushed forever in this Hall, to which all ears have been wont to listen with profound reverence.

A venerable form has faded from our sight, around which we have daily clustered with an affectionate regard.

A name has been stricken from the roll of the living statesmen of our land, which has been associated, for more than half a century, with the highest civil service, and the loftiest civil re

nown.

On Monday, the 21st instant, John Quincy Adams sunk in his seat, in presence of us all, owing to a sudden illness, from which he never recovered; and he died, in the Speaker's room, at a quarter past seven o'clock last evening, with the officers of the House and the delegation of his own Massachusetts around him.

Whatever advanced age, long experience, great ability, vast learning, accumulated public honors, a spotless private character, and a firm religious faith, could do, to render any one an object of interest, respect, and admiration, they had done for this distinguished person; and interest, respect, and admiration

are but feeble terms to express the feelings, with which the members of this House and the People of this country have long regarded him.

After a life of eighty years, devoted from its earliest maturity to the public service, he has at length gone to his rest. He has been privileged to die at his post; to fall while in the discharge of his duties; to expire beneath the roof of the Capitol; and to have his last scene associated forever, in history, with the birthday of that illustrious Patriot, whose just discernment brought him first into the service of his country.

The close of such a life, under such circumstances, is not an event for unmingled emotions. We cannot find it in our hearts to regret, that he has died as he has died. He himself could have desired no other end. "This is the end of earth," were his last words, uttered on the day on which he fell. But we might almost hear him exclaiming, as he left us—in a language hardly less familiar to him than his native tongue-"Hoc est, nimirum, magis feliciter de vitâ migrare, quam mori.”

It is for others to suggest what honors shall be paid to his memory. No acts of ours are necessary to his fame. But it may be due to ourselves and to the country, that the national sense of his character and services should be fitly commemorated

HORTICULTURE.

A SPEECH AT THE FESTIVAL OF THE MASSACHUSETTS HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY IN FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON, SEPTEMBER 22, 1848

[In reply to the following toast, proposed by the Hon. Marshall P. Wilder, President of the Society,—" Winthrop, the first Governor of Massachusetts-The good stock which he planted more than two centuries ago, bears fruit in this generation which speaks for itself."]

It

I WISH that it could speak for itself, Mr. President! Most heartily do I wish that the fruit of that old stock to which you have so kindly alluded, could speak for itself in a manner worthy of this occasion, could find language for the sentiments with which a scene like this has filled all our hearts. is so long, however, since I was at liberty to speak for myself, — I have so long, of late, been a doomed listener to the not always very inspiring speeches of others, that I am almost afraid that my faculty, if I ever had any, has flown. But with whatever words I can find, I desire to offer my congratulations to this Society, on the eminent success of the exhibition which is now brought to a close.

-

I think you will agree with me, ladies and gentlemen, that a richer display of horticultural products has rarely been witnessed by any of us. I have had a recent opportunity of seeing some of the horticultural exhibitions of other climes. It is hardly more than a twelvemonth, since it was my good fortune to be present at more than one of the famous flower-shows of London and its vicinity. I know not what hidden beauties might have revealed themselves on these occasions to a more scientific eye, - what prodigies of art might have been discovered by those who knew how to look for them, I can only speak of the impressions produced on a superficial observer. I saw there

magnificent collections of plants, such as I never saw before, such as I have never seen since. Not a few of them were pointed out to me as original products of our own soil; but I confess that they had been so improved by cultivation, that it must have required a very practised eye, or an exceedingly patriotic pair of spectacles, to have emboldened any one to claim them as Native American productions. But as to fruits, I saw no exhibition of them anywhere, which for variety, perfection, or profusion, could be compared with what we have seen in this Hall, during the last two or three days.

Certainly, Mr. President, we have never beheld the like in these parts before. A few years ago, we all remember that a little room in Tremont street was all too wide for your annual shows. But you have gone on so rapidly, adding triumph to triumphat one moment producing a new apple, at another a few more pears, at a third "a little more grape -that your own spacious Horticultural rooms have now become too small, and old Faneuil Hall itself can hardly stretch its arms wide enough, to embrace all the spoils of your victories!

And what shall I say of the festival by which your exhibition is now closed and crowned? Who does not feel it a privilege to be here? Which one of us, especially, that has been accustomed to associate meetings in this place only with subjects of political contention and party strife, can fail to appreciate the harmony and beauty of the scene before him? Never, surely, was there combined a greater variety of delightful circumstances. It would be difficult to decide for which of our senses you have provided the most luxurious repast. Fruit, flowers, music, fair faces, sparkling eyes, wit, eloquence, and poetry, have all conspired to lend their peculiar enchantment to the hour.

But it would be doing great injustice to your Association, to estimate its claims upon the consideration and gratitude of the community, by the mere success of its exhibitions or the brilliancy of its festivals. We owe them a far deeper debt for their influence in disseminating a taste for one of the purest and most refined pleasures of life, and for their exertions in diffusing the knowledge of an art so eminently calculated to elevate the moral character of society.