Foremost in ability and influence, however, was John Quincy
Adams, the Secretary of State. Brought up from early boyhood in
the atmosphere of diplomacy, familiar with nearly every country
of Europe, he had nevertheless none of those arts of suavity
which are popularly associated with the diplomat. Short,
baldheaded, with watery eyes, he on the one hand repelled
familiarity, and on the other hand shocked some sensibilities, as
for example when he appeared in midsummer Washington without a
neckcloth. His early morning swim in the Potomac and his
translations of Horace did not conquer a temper which embittered
many who had business with him, while the nightly records which
he made of his interviews show that he was generally suspicious
of his visitors. Yet no American can show so long a roll of
diplomatic successes. Preeminently he knew his business. His
intense devotion and his native talent had made him a master of
the theory and practice of international law and of statecraft.
Always he was obviously honest, and his word was relied on.
Fundamentally he was kind, and his work was permeated by a
generous enthusiasm. Probably no man in America, had so intense a
conviction not only of the correctness of American principles and
the promise of American greatness but of the immediate strength
and greatness of the United States as it stood in 1823.

Fully aware as Adams was of the danger that threatened both
America and liberty, he was not in favor of accepting Canning's
proposal for the cooperation of England and the United States. He
based his opposition upon two fundamental objections. In the
first place he was not prepared to say that the United States
desired no more Spanish territory. Not that Adams desired or
would tolerate conquest. At the time of the Louisiana Purchase he