In his diary, for October 31, 1846, 79-year-old John Quincy Adams (JQA, as he refers to himself there) reflected that “[t]here has perhaps not been another individual of the human race…whose daily existence from early childhood to four score years has been noted down with his own hand so minutely as mine.” Of course, any vain nonentity could record his daily existence in mind-numbing detail, and there would not be an ounce of delight or instruction in it. But JQA is no vain nonentity, and his homerically ambitious diary is full of instruction and delight. He did not rank in greatness with his father, John Adams, or with George Washington, after whom he named his firstborn son, but he was high in the next rank of greatness, and his ambition soared even beyond the achievements of those great founders. (Speaking of rank, his father and mother were hurt and took offense at his naming of his first-born son; more, I’d like to think, because of the filial disloyalty than because of any unjust demotion in rank. He named his second son John.)
JQA’s ambition began with his parents’ ambitions for him. His mother, the formidable Abigail Adams, told him early on that he was destined to be a “guardian of his country’s laws and liberties.” He accepted that destiny. His father wrote him, when the 26-year-old was wavering a bit about his future: “You come into life
