University of Virginia Library
AC1 .G43 V. 1.NO. 11 1924

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ADDRESSES

Vol. I, No 11

 

    
   
       
           

  

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George Washington

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By
Blanton Fortson
Judge of the Superior Courts of the
Western Circuit, Georgia

 

   

_ Bntered at the Post Office at Athens, Ga., as Second Class Matter, August 31, 1905,
under Act of Congress of July 16th, 1904. Issued Monthly by the University,

Serial Number 367

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@

George Washington’

ae make an address on the life of George Washington is not
unlike writing an essay on the Golden Rule, or on the
3eatitudes. His accepted grandeur has removed him from the
realm of controversy; to recount his many elements of greatness
is almost like repeating platitudes. Conservative and radical,
aristocrat and democrat, peasant and king, all accord him praise.
His life has had the constant light of publicity upon it for over
a century, and there remains nothing new to disclose. It is even
banal to deny the silly story of the cherry tree. The world has
now an accurate picture of the man. It knows he was human,
it knows he had the passions and weaknesses that are the com-
mon inheritance, but it also knows that he was more nearly
master of himself and of his time than it has fallen to the lot
of many mortals to be. It is, therefore, necessarily with a great
deal of diffidence that one attempts to hold the interest of an
audience for even a short period on a subject concerning which
the opinion of mankind is so nearly agreed.

Nevertheless, because we are, as it seems to many observers,
always in danger of drifting away from the wisdom and sanity
of his counsel and example, there is constant need to reflect
upon those principles and policies which, since they were due
fundamentally to the inherent character—the ego—of the man,
are to be readily observed running like a thread of gold through-
out the whole fabric of his life. Hence, it matters not at what pe-
riod we survey him; viewed from any angle his life is an inspira-
tion. His sturdy self-reliance as a boy of seventeen, resolutely
surveying a wilderness peopled with unfriendly and often hostile
savages; his cool and resourceful conduct on the ill-fated expe-
dition of Braddock; his almost superhuman patience during
the long and trying years of the war; his dominant role in the
creation of the nation; each discloses the strength and quality
of his character. Or, if looked at as a whole, step by step we
see his greatness mounting to loftier heights, as he met and
mastered each problem presented to him. Not that he was suc-
cessful from the beginning. On the contrary, it appears that

* An address delivered in the Chapel of the University on Feb-
ruary 22, 1924.oe EXCHANGE

, FEB 2S 34

he was thwarted on the threshold of almost every undertaking.

He lost his first battle; he was defeated in his first race for a @
seat in the Virginia House of Burgesses; in his first love affair,

even, he was disappointed. But he was a man upon whom

defeat acted only as a spur to greater endeavor, and, rarer still,

one upon whom success never bestowed complacence.

During nearly all of Washington’s life he was engaged, in
one capacity or another, in the public service, and it is of
course utterly impossible within the time at my disposal to
touch even briefly upon all of the incidents of his career. There-
fore, I shall confine my remarks to a short review of his part
of the work in establishing the American nation after the Rey-
olutionary War had been won, trusting that it may prove of
some slight stimulus to you who are shortly, in varying degrees,
to be ealled upon to play a part in public affairs.

It is true that Washington carried on his own shoulders, often
unaided, the affairs of the country during the war, but it was
merely as an incident to his duties as commander-in-chief of the
army. His task then was primarily that of a soldier, its one
object being to win the war; the full opportunity of exercising
his genius as a constructive statesman in welding a nation out
of the associated states had not arrived. There was at that
time, in fact, no American nation as we understand the term
today. Not until the adoption of the Constitution was there
any superior authority over the thirteen autonomous common-
wealths. The Continental Congress was no more than a com-
mittee appointed by the different sovereignties to exercise just
such power as was necessary to harmonize and unify the activ-
ities against the mother country. The States were endeavoring
to gain, each for itself, independence, and they bore towards
each other simply the relation of allies. Constantly did they
assert and exercise their independent authority, one or two,
for example, making their own treaties with foreign nations,
and several borrowing money individually from abroad. While
the Continental Congress assumed general direction over mil-
itary affairs, it had to appeal to the individual states to sup-
port the army and to redeem its financial pledges. Far-sighted
men, even from the beginning of the struggle, had understood
that unless there should be some strong central authority,
unless indeed the different members of the Confederation shouldmerge themselves into one nation, the future held little promise
of ultimate independence. As has been more than once pointed
out by historians, the leaders of the Revolution would have to
solve, if they were to enjoy the fruits of victory, the very prob-
lem which, because the British government had failed to prop-
erly solve it, had brought about the separation; namely—the
problem of organizing the separate commonwealths into a single
empire, of establishing a strong central government without
depriving the states of their full authority over local affairs.
This problem, it may be remarked in passing, has from that time
until this very day been fraught with profound difficulties and
dangers. It may, indeed, be called the problem of problems for
the United States of America. It is, perhaps, not too much to
say that only the genius of Washington could have solved it
in the beginning, and that only by emulation of his patience,
his tact, his courage, and above all, his common sense, can his
suecessors in public authority avoid the dangers it still presents.

Early in the deliberations of the Continental Congress this
problem was tackled, albeit with much reluctance and many
misgivings. A committee, consisting of one member of Congress
from each state, was appointed to draft a plan of forming a
permanent union, and in 1777 there resulted the Articles of
Confederation. These, however, contained but a single item of
national unity, and that was the clause guaranteeing to the
citizens of each state the privileges and immunities of the sey-
eral states. But the central authority had no right to levy
taxes or to raise revenue, when it needed money it must ask it
of the separate states, and it had no direct control over the
individual; it could only act upon the states. Its impotence was
therefore self-evident, and only under the pressure of a desper-
ate struggle for existence could it have held its members to-
gether. So it will be seen that after the war had been won the
thirteen states were in imminent danger of losing their inde-
pendence through want of power to preserve it. Thoughtful
men therefore very quickly realized that it was of paramount
necessity to form a stronger and “‘more perfect’’ union, but
one in which there would, nevertheless, be preserved to each
state its own domestic polity. When the pride and jealousies of
these different sovereignties are considered, remembering their
inequalities as to size, resources, population and wealth, to say

anothing of their varying institutions and religions, the difficulty
of the task can be appreciated. But the need was urgent and
pressing. Not only had the Confederation been powerless to
carry out the provisions of the peace with England because
many of the states had refused to comply with the promises the
American commissioners had made, but its authority was every-
where being flouted. The newly settled communities in the
west had already threatened to go back to England if a treaty
was ratified which the Continental Congress had negotiated with
Spain giving to the latter the right of navigation on the Mis-
sissippi in exchange for trade privileges with her possessions.
And the New England States, who desired this trade, had
declared they would withdraw from the Confederation if the
treaty was defeated by the threats of backwoodsmen. Again,
in Massachusetts, the notorious Shays had been in open rebellion
against all government, the purpose of his followers being to
shut up the courts and thus abolish the payment of all debts
and taxes. The movement had spread to Vermont and New
Hampshire. The insurgents had burned, plundered and wrought
general havoc before they were put down; but when the leaders
had been captured the states were timid and half-hearted in
punishing them. Rhode Island openly declared her sympathy
with the revolutionists, Vermont offered them asylum, and even
in Massachusetts, where they had been tried and convicted, they
were promptly pardoned. Government, both state and national,
was breaking down.

Washington had long urged a strong central government.
Without it, he had said, ‘‘we shall never establish a national
character or be considered as on a respectable footing by the
powers of Europe.’”’ In a circular addressed to all the states,
as he was about to retire from the command of the army, he
had urged them to create ‘‘an indissoluable union under one
federal head.’’ He wrote, ‘‘an option is still left to the United
States of America, it is in their charge and depends upon their
conduct, whether they will be respectable and prosperous, or
contemptible and miserable, as a nation. This is the time of
their political probation.’’

The events were proving Washington only too good a prophet.
English statesmen were confidently expecting the states to come
back to England out of sheer weakness and hopeless division.

6Britain still maintained her military posts in the Northwestern
Territory, although they had by the treaty of peace been ceded
to the United States, and the Continental Congress could do
nothing more than request her to retire.

At this critical juncture a convention was called to meet in
Philadelphia in May 1787, and there all the states, except
Rhode Island, sent representatives. Washington, who headed
the Virginia delegation, was naturally called upon to preside.
Max Farrand says, that ‘‘he was almost the commander-in-chief
again. There is evidence to show that his support or disap-
proval was, at times, a decisive factor in the deliberations of
the convention.’’ It is certain that at the very beginning of
their labors, Washington created the atmosphere of high-minded
statesmanship that characterized the work of the delegates.
Many of them, timid, fearful of criticism at home, mindful of
the local prejudices and jealousies then at high pitch every-
where, were for adopting half-way measures—ill considered and
unwise compromises. ‘But, said Washington, ‘if, to please the
people, we offer what we ourselves disapprove, how can we after-
wards defend our work? Let us raise a standard to which the
wise and honest can repair. The event is in the hand of God.’’

 

These words should be blazoned upon the walls of every
legislative chamber in the United States! Would that they
were engraved in the hearts of all legislators! ‘‘If, to please
the people, we offer what we ourselves disapprove—’’ How
many of the present evils of government are due to the
yielding to this ancient weakness on the part of men chosen
to act upon their own judgment, it is impossible to say. But
every thoughtful person, who but looks about him, must be
depressed with the fear that the vast majority of legislators,
state and national, act almost entirely from this motive, with-
out once pausing to remember that theirs is a representative
form of government, not a pure democracy, and that never in
the history of the world has a pure democracy been able to sur-
vive in a populous country. The worst feature of the practice
is that it inevitably sinks into the lowest demagogy, for dem-
agogy is a vice which grows upon what it feeds. Politicians, in
striving to please the people, almost invariably assume that the
people have neither character nor intelligence—that they are
actuated only by prejudice or supposed immediate self-interest.

 

7They seem never able to learn that when given the opportunity
the people always generously respond to a lofty statesmanship
of the type of Washington’s.

And, I repeat, to the high standard thus raised by Washing-
ton is due the lasting quality of the work there performed.
While he had very little to do with the preparation of the various
articles submitted for adoption (and I recognize, of course, that
full eredit should be given to the able and patriotic men who
composed the convention) yet it must never be forgotten that
Washington’s spirit and personality dominated the assemblage,
that the Constitution bore the imprint of his sagacity, and that
it hardly could have been adopted without his approval. It is
generally conceded that his advocacy secured its ratification by
Virginia, the largest and most influential of the states, and one
of the last to accept it; and that this practically assured the
birth of the new nation.

But with the new Constitution adopted there yet remained
the great experiment,—would it work? However sound in
theory it might be, it could only be proved by functioning.

For the third time the nation unanimously turned to Wash-
ington, and he was, practically by acclamation, chosen as the
new nation’s first president. Instinetively the people felt that
this man, whose genius has been described as being the quin-
tessence of common sense, could once again put them upon the
road of a great destiny. It seems to me that from this point
on Washington’s greatness approaches the sublime. It is, even
though charged with untold difficulties, one thing to lead a
successful revolution—to destroy unpopular and outworn author-
ity; but it is quite another thing to erect something enduring
in its stead.

Washington’s position was unique. Not only was he the first
president of the United States, he was the first man in history
called upon to occupy a similar position. Never let it be doubted
that he was well aware of the difficulties which confronted him.
The very language of his inaugural address discloses that he
recognized that upon the successful operation of the new
machinery depended the future of representative federal gov-
nment. ‘‘The preservation of the sacred fire of librty,’’ he
said, ‘‘and the destiny of the present model of government, are
justly considered as deeply, perhaps as finally staked on the

8experiment entrusted to the hands of the American people.’’
Having seen at first hand the weakness and inefficiency of the
old Confederation he knew better, perhaps, than any man of
his time, the difficulties of his task. He had seen the old gov-
ernment die, impotent and despised. He felt that the weak-
nesses of that experiment had been cured by the new Constitu-
tion, but he knew the jealousies of the various commonwealths,
and that there yet remained the problem of getting the people to
accept in fact what they had approved in theory; and although
Washington was in no degree dismayed, he did not minimize
the difficulties incident to such an undertaking. That he well
knew it was not a government alone he had been called upon to
ereate, but a public opinion which would sustain it, is also
proved by his utterances at the time. And he had the wisdom
to realize that in order to win public opinion the government
must be made worthy of it; that therefore its actions must be,
as he said, ‘‘mixed with firmness, prudence and conciliation, if
it would win liking and loyalty, as well as respect.’’

The first great question that confronted the government was
one of finance. Washington had witnessed the disastrous experi-
ence of the Confederation with its burden of debt, which was,
in fact, the only legacy it had bequeathed to the new govern-
ment. Upon whether it could meet the situation and establish
proper financial credit depended the respect to be accorded the
young nation. Again Washington’s wisdom is shown by his
choice of a secretary of the treasury and the unswerving sup-
port he gave him once a practical plan of finance had been
evolved. It is no detraction from the ability and prestige of
Alexander Hamilton to say that it was due to Washington’s in-
sistence upon their adoption that his brilliant measures became
the law.

But perhaps the supreme trial of the new government came
with the excitement incident to the French Revolution and the
subsequent war between England and France. Under treaties
with France made by the Continental Congress in 1778 each
country had the right to use the ports of the other, either for
ships of war or for privateers and their prizes, and it was agreed
that the ships of war of each country should defend the vessels
of the other country against all attacks that might occur while
they were in company. There was also a provision that each

9country might establish consular courts in the other. The
United States, then, had a treaty of alliance with France and
at the same time it had a treaty of peace with Great Britain. It
could not sustain both positions.

How far was the French treaty now binding? It had been
made with the French King, whose head had fallen on the seaf-
fold. The French Republic had declared that it had the right
to decide which treaties of the old monarchy. should be retained
and which rejected. Jefferson, and many of the men high in the
councils of state, were openly sympathetic with the revolution-
ists. When they had deposed their King and taken up arms
against the neighboring European countries the vast majority
of Americans, it appears, were for going to the immediate aid
of their former ally. The Bastile had been overthrown and its
key sent to Washington. France had taken her place among
the republics. It did, indeed, seem small, mean, ungrateful, to
the average man, for America not to come at once to the aid
of this new democracy, whose people had rendered such timely
service to America. John Marshall has said that, when war
was declared between England and France ‘‘a great majority
of the American people deemed it criminal to remain uncon-
cerned spectators of a conflict between their ancient enemy
and Republican France.’’

But Washington’s poise and balance were still intact. He was
not to be swept off his feet. He himself had led revolutionary
armies and understood how unstable, how ephemeral, are intense
popular emotions. He would wait. Then, too, he remembered
that France in aiding America had been pursuing her own
ends. It is on record that the French government in August
1787, had advised its American representative that it had ob-
served with indifference the movements going on in the United
States and would not regret the breaking up of the Confeder-
ation. ‘‘We have never pretended,’’ it said, ‘‘to make of Amer-
ica a useful ally, we have had no other view than to deprive
Great Britain of that vast continent.’’

Washington said simply: ‘‘The revolution which has been
effected in France is of so wonderful a nature that the mind
ean hardly realize the fact. J fear, though it has gone tri-
umphantly through the first paroxism, it is not the last it has to
encounter before matters are finally settled. The revolution is

10of too great a magnitude to be effected in so short a space, and
with the loss of so little blood.’’

In other words, even if it should be granted that France’s
service to America had been disinterested—which it was not—
it had been given by the old monarchy, now deposed. Who
would presently represent France, the old order or the mob?
No man could say. But over and above these considerations
Washington knew that to embroil his new nation in Huropean
quarrels would render the beneficiary but doubtful service, while
probably proving fatal to its own future existence. There was,
as yet, no national consciousness among the people. They in-
stinctively felt more or less dependence upon the older coun-
tries. They were, as has been said, ‘‘too observant still of
European politics and opinions,’’ regarding their country as
‘“a province rather than a nation—inclined to take sides as if
America was still a child of the European family, who had
flung away from her mother, England, to cling in pique to an
ancient foe.’’? It is not, therefore, remarkable that most of the
public men of the time had been carried away by the emotions
of the moment. But Washington was made of different ma-
terial. He stood firm. He clearly saw, what so many of his
contemporaries failed to see, that their paramount duty was to
create a nation. Until that could be accomplished it were futile
to consider aiding others. Not that he was unmindful of the
binding obligation of a treaty or would stoop to quibbling to
evade a duty thus imposed. But in the opinion of some of the
soundest men of the day the alliance with France was a defensive
one, which was not binding on America when France became the
aggressor, as she had become by declaring war upon England.
Again, if no old treaty was binding on the new French Govern-
ment could it insist on its being binding on others? Or, as
was pertinently asked by Hamilton, ‘‘were the United States
obliged, by good faith, to consider the treaties heretofore made
with France as applying to the present situation?’’ Could
they not ‘‘either renounce them or hold them suspended till the
government of France shall be established?’’ Washington
finally decided, with the unanimous approval of his cabinet,
upon a policy of strict neutrality. He very wisely said: ‘‘ Hvery
true friend to this country must see and feel that the policy of
it is not to embroil ourselves with any nation whatever, but to

rtavoid their disputes and their politics, and if they will harrass
one another, to avail ourselves of the neutral conduct we have
adopted. Twenty years peace, with such an inerease of popu-
lation and resources as we have a right to expect, added to our
remote situation from the jarring powers, will in all probabil-
ity enable us, in a just cause, to bid defiance to any power on
earth.’’ He had let it be known from the first that this country
was not to be relieved of the tutelage of England to become but
the appendage of France, when he had shown the French min-
ister, Count Moustier, how matters stood. That dignitary,
deeming America a protegee of France, claimed the right to
deal directly with the president in person, thus intimating
superiority. ‘‘If there are rules of proceeding which have
originated from the wisdom of statesmen,’’ Washington said,
“[t would not be prudent for a young state to dispense with
them altogether.’’ The Count had promptly apologized. And
now we find Washington again declaring, ‘‘I want an American
character, that the powers of Europe may be convinced we
act for owrselves, and not for others.’’

Washington was anything but a sentimentalist; he looked
askance at the radical theories of the French revolutionists,
and he could hardly conceal his disgust for those about him
who were so eager to plunge the new nation into a European
conflict in response either to unwarranted emotion or to a
specious humanitarianism. He had no patience with men who
are so moved by the ills, real or fancied, of far off peoples as
to be willing to jeopardize the welfare of their own. Ties of
race, of affection, of gratitude, might bind him to the old
world; but that his first duty was to the new nation, he could
not doubt.

As Woodrow Wilson has well said of him, ‘‘truly he was the
first American, the men about him provincials merely, depend-
ent still for their life and thought upon the breath of the old
world.’’

So this man of oak, this wisest of men, stood firm as the
waves of passion and emotion beat about him, nor did he seem
to doubt that the right view would prevail. And he was not
to be disappointed, for as the excesses of the French revolu-
tionists became generally known, the American people came
gradually to realize that the convulsion in France had no real

12resemblance to their own. And in the end the prudent course
of their president was in their eyes completely justified. Still,
no man can with certianty say just what the real sentiments
of the majority of the people were at the time. John Adams,
writing about it twenty years later, spoke of ‘‘the terrorism
in 1793, when ten thousand people in the streets of Philadel-
phia, day after day, threatened to drag Washington out of his
home, and effect a revolution in the government, or to compel
it td declare war in favor of the French Revolution and against
England.’’ On the other hand, Hamilton has said that the
malcontents were noisy, but few. Washington himself could
not have known to what extent his conduct would be approved.
Yet, when the proclamation of neutrality had been made and
it became necessary for him to see that its provisions were
executed, he did so firmly and without equivocation.

Shortly before the proclamation had been issued there had
landed at Charleston young Genet, the bold and enterpris-
ing French minister, who, heedless, perhaps, of the experi-
ence of his predecessor, had come fully prepared to make of
America but a dependency of France that would freely do his
bidding. To draw the United States into the war as an ally
of France was only a part of his mission, he was also to estab-
lish the lost French colonial empire. Disregarding entirely
the government’s announced neutrality, no doubt presuming
upon his own interpretation of the treaties of 1778, he at once
began the fitting out of privateers, issuing letters of marque to
American citizens, and giving authority to the French con-
suls in American ports to act as judges in the condemnation
of captured prizes. Utterly ignoring the Federal Government,
he acted as if he were upon French territory. As he jour-
neyed northward towards the capitol, he was fully confirmed
in the correctness of his position by being everywhere accorded
most enthusiastic ovations. His speeches were filled with
expressions of authority and patronage, and when he reached
Philadelphia his head was completely turned. He had, as
he thought, but to assume entire control of affairs to have it
fully accorded him. There had, in truth, been nothing in the
attitude of the public officials whom he had encountered to
relieve him of this impression. But he had not seen the pres-
ident. There is perhaps no more dramatie incident in history

13than his first meeting with Washington. When he finally stood
face to face with that majestic man he must have felt as if
awakening from a dream. The country itself, no doubt, had
not fully known Washington until then. It certainly had not
had any consciousness of its own dignity. It had in the main
regarded the proclamation of neutrality as merely a gesture,
or at most as but a party measure into which the president had
been drawn by Hamilton and the partisans of England. But
now all were undeceived. Slowly, deliberately, without haste,
but inexorably and with a restrained fury, Washington moved
to set at naught the activities of this audacious Frenchman.
The prizes which his privateers had seized were taken from
them and the captors punished; the French admiralty courts
were shut up. The army was prepared to put down any up-
rising that French partisanship might incite; and finally Genet
himself was dismissed.

The handling of this situation is a perfect illustration of
Washington’s greatness. His country was in a most critical
situation, the gravity and far-reaching effects of which few
besides himself seemed to grasp. To put an impudent but
popular meddler in his proper place, to preserve the dignity
and independence of his nation, and at the same time not to
lose all by forfeiting the confidence of the people, was indeed
a delicate business. To a man less courageous, less patient
and less wise it would have been an impossibility. And
although, as has been said, Washington was burning with a
righteous indignation, he did not act precipitately. He never
forgot that the success of the new government was dependent
upon popular support, and he knew his course would not at first
please the people. However, he could not adopt measures he did
not approve. He dared to follow his own judgment, and by his
prudent, firm and deliberate action he managed to let the public
know that his course was the only one to which ‘‘the wise and
honest might repair.’’ He appealed to their judgment, not to
their emotions. He gave them credit for having intelligence and
character; and therein lay his statesmanship.

Indeed, it was only to prevent the country from becoming
divided by partisanship and to keep it out of foreign embroils
that he consented to accept a second term. For the greater
part of his life he had served the public, and no man loved

14

©it

home life more, nor had earned a greater right to enjoy it than
had he. Besides, he was then, perhaps, the wealthiest man in
America and his many private interests had suffered by reason
of his absence. Nevertheless, he could not leave the work he
had undertaken incomplete. And although he had been the
victim of many scurrilous attacks by politicians and pamph-
leteers, his hold upon the people was so great he had no oppo-
sition. Again he was elected unanimously.

No sooner had the country been rid of Genet than. the activ-
ities of England began. It would seem that she was as anxious
to drive the country into war as he had been to embroil te
She refused to withdraw from the border posts. She incited
the Indians to attack the frontiersmen. She seized all Amer-
ican vessels that carried the products of the French colonies,
and in other ways so excited the hostility of the people that
Congress was for enacing retaliatory measures which must
inevitably have led to war.

Washington knew as well as England that the country was
in no condition to wage another war. America, as he had said,
was but in a convalescent state after her long struggle. What
ghe needed now was peace and an opportunity to develop her
nationality.

Again his counsel prevailed. He asked for time, and sent John
Jay to England to undertake an adjustment of the difficulties by
a treaty. In the meanwhile, by vigorously putting down the
whiskey rebellion in Western Pennsylvania, he gave additional
proof of the power and authority of the new government.

In the controversy that arose over the Jay treaty Washing-
ton was put to the severest test of his life. Never had he
been so vilified. He was aceused of practically every crime,
and was threatened with impeachment and assassination. But
however much these slings and arrows may have wounded
him, he gave no public evidence of it. As was to be ex-
pected, he stood firm, weathered the storm, and by the time
his term had expired the people were again clamoring for his
reelection. But his task had been accomplished. The new
nation had been established. It could now run of its own
momentum.

It is, of course, very easy to fall into extravagant praise of
Washington. Lofty character, indefatigable industry, pro-

15found wisdom; with these qualities he was perhaps more
copiously endowed than any other of the truly great of
history. Men of almost every race have accorded him high
place among the world’s heroes. An Englishman, Frederick
Harrison, has thus appraised him:

“The grand endowment of Washington was character, not
imagination; judgment, not subtlety; not brilliance, but wis-
dom. The wisdom of Washington was the genius of common-
sense, glorified into unerring truth of view. He had that cour-
age,—physical and moral,—that purity of soul, that cool judg-
ment, which is bred in the bone of the English-speaking race.
But in Washington these qualities, not rare on either side of
the Atlantic, were developed to a supreme degree and were
found in absolute perfection. He thus became the transfiura-
tion of the stalwart, just, truthful, prudent citizen, having that
essence of good sense which amounts to true genius, that per-
fection of courage which is true heroism, that transparent un-
selfishness which seems to us the special mark of the saint.”’

But it is not necessary to eulogize Washington. His life
speaks for itself. And I am sure you feel that now, deluged
as we are with appeals to our prejudices and emotions, there
is a very pressing need for leadership moulded on his plan—
for statesmanship with sufficient ability and courage to be
willing to challenge the intelligence and character of the peo-
ple, to dare once more to ‘‘raise a standard to which the wise
and honest can repair,’’ trusting the event to God.

2»)1s Wh evi ets