able practices is a stinging humiliation to a proud man. There is refuge in contempt, but also the necessity of despising any one is painful to a generous nature.
Moreover the feeling grew upon him that he had after all made a great mistake in accepting the secretaryship of state in the Adams administration. He became painfully aware that this acceptance had given color to the “bargain and corruption” charge. It kept him busy year after year, in dreary iteration, at the humiliating task of proving that he was an honest man; while, had he not accepted, he might have remained in Congress, the most formidable power in debate, leading a host of enthusiastic friends, and defying his enemies to meet him face to face. Thus for the secretaryship of state he felt that he had given up his active leadership on the field where he was strongest; and that secretaryship, far from being to him a stepping-stone to the presidency, had become the most serious stumbling-block in his way.
The most agreeable feature of Clay's official life, aside from his uncommon popularity with the diplomatic corps, consisted in his personal relations with Mr. Adams. Their daily intercourse supplanted the prejudices, which formerly had prevailed between them, with a constantly growing esteem and something like friendship. In 1828 Clay said of Adams, in a letter to Crawford: “I had fears of Mr. Adams's temper and disposition, but I must say that they have not been realized,
