John Adams was often austere, and sometimes cynical, in his judgments. Evidently he did not like Hartley. In one place he speaks of him as “a person of consummate vanity”;[472] then, as “talkative and disputatious, and not always intelligible”;[473] and in still another place remarks, “Mr. Hartley was as copious as usual;”[474] and when appointed to sign the Definitive Treaty, “It would have been more agreeable to have finished with Mr. Oswald.”[475] And yet, when writing most elaborately to the Comte de Vergennes on the state of affairs previous to the final campaign, he introduces opinions of Hartley at length, saying that he was “more for peace than any man in the kingdom.”[476] Such testimony may well outweigh the other expressions, especially as nothing of the kind appears in the correspondence of Franklin, with whom Hartley was much more intimate. The “Parliamentary History” is a sufficient monument for Hartley. He was a frequent speaker, and never missed an opportunity of pleading our cause. Although without the immortal eloquence of Burke, he was always clear and full. Many of his speeches seem written out by himself. He was not a tardy convert, but began as “a new member” by supporting an amendment favorable to the Colonies, 5th December, 1774. Then, in March, 1775, he brought forward “Propositions for Conciliation with America,” which he sustained in an elaborate speech, where he avowed that the American question had occupied him for some time:-- “Though I have so lately had the honor of a seat in this House, yet I have for many years turned my thoughts and attention to matters of public concern and national policy. This question of America is now of many years’ standing.”[477] In this speech he acknowledges the services of New England at Louisburg:-- “In that war too, Sir, they took Louisburg from the French, single-handed, without any European assistance: as mettled an enterprise as any in our history; an everlasting memorial of the zeal, courage, and perseverance of the troops of New England. The men themselves dragged the cannon over a morass which had always been thought impassable, where neither horses nor oxen could go; and they carried the shot upon their backs. And what was their reward for this forward and spirited enterprise,--for the reduction of this American Dunkirk? Their reward, Sir, you know very well: it was given up for a barrier to the Dutch.”[478]