The narrator is quick to point out that few people born in 1838 find themselves in more favorable circumstances than Henry Adams. The grandson of one President of the United States and great-grandson of another, Henry inherits a respected family name, automatic contacts with some of the most powerful people in the country, and financial security. As impressive as all that is, however, it is not the reason that we know about him today. What sets Henry apart is his intellectual curiosity. In discussing his "Dynamic Theory of History" (Chapter XXXIII), Adams suggests that mankind began to evolve beyond the apes because of a capacity to respond to the "attractive forces" that one may over-simply call knowledge. "Susceptibility to the highest forces is the highest genius; selection between them is the highest science; their mass is the highest educator," Adams says. Because of his unusual intellectual curiosity, Henry is more attracted than most to "highest forces," the ultimate levels of knowledge. That is his genius. He is interested in almost everything around him, and this interest helps him to distinguish, to select, between mundane and worthwhile pursuits. This is the one constant throughout his life.
As a young boy, Henry is attracted to the same things that attract most children. He prefers diversity, freedom, the "endless delight" of sensual impressions, and occasional "outlawry." But by the time he travels to Washington with his father in 1850, he is already becoming curious about larger issues. His first impressions of slavery shock him: "Slavery struck him in the face; it was a nightmare; a horror; a crime; the sum of all wickedness!" He wants to escape, along with the slaves, to free soil. His curiosity takes him beyond immediate impressions, some of which are actually pleasant. It occurs to him that the casual, relaxed life of the indolent South is paid for by human bondage. Especially upsetting and confusing is the trip to George Washington's home, Mount Vernon. Henry realizes that the father of his country, the man he has thought of as beyond reproach, was supported by slavery. At the age of twelve, Henry can't understand what exactly this adds up to; does it mean that Washington was an evil man? Henry ultimately slides into the uncomfortable, insufficient conclusion that Washington was unique. For the confused child, Washington just wasn't like other men; he "stood alone." Henry's education has not prepared him for further understanding.
