“His own country now honors his memory with funeral ceremonies, having lost a citizen whose public actions and unassuming grandeur in private life were a living example of courage, wisdom and unselfishness; and France, which from the dawn of American Revolution hailed with hope a nation, hitherto unknown, that was discarding the vices of Europe, which foresaw all the glory that this nation would bestow on humanity, and the enlightenment of governments that would ensue from the novel character of the social institutions, and the new type of heroism, of which Washington and America were models for the world at large,—France, I repeat, should depart from established usages, and do honor to one whose fame is beyond comparison with that of others. The man who, among the decadence of modern ages, first dared believe that he could inspire degenerate nations with courage to rise to the level of republican virtues, lived for all nations and for all centuries.”
These tributes from the two greatest nations were sincere despite the fact that one of them had just been humiliated, beaten and dismembered by his leadership, and the other was only recently in the midst of open hostilities toward the United States, against which Washington was again made the national commander-in-chief, thus on the very verge of war with France. Only in his own country had Washington been the object of the bitterest personal slander and political calumny. But, at his death, all ignorant prejudice and foul-mouthed envy became silent and sought to be hidden from the public presence. In him there was greatness that could not be questioned and character that could be known only to be praised. The vision of him never fails from the sky of American ideals, and the young people of this nation have only to know his life to know for what kind of political interest each one should labor in the name of American liberty and the progress of an American humanity.
Washington regarded parties as one of the most inexcusable and disturbing elements in the political life of a nation. He believed in men and principles, not in parties and platforms. It was more than a hundred years after his death before the people of the United States began to discard allegiance to parties and platforms in favor of men and the principles of humanity.
When misrepresentation began its assault upon him in the presidency as it had done in the army, Washington wrote, “The man who means to commit no wrong will never be guilty of enormities; consequently he can never be unwilling to learn what are ascribed to him as foibles. If they are really such, the knowledge of them in a well disposed mind will go halfway towards a reform. If they are errors, he can explain and justify the motive of his actions.”
It is thus that a well-balanced disposition willingly receives criticism, whatever its motive, for any value he can get out of it, with little concern for the intentions of the criticism, if his own purpose is fair and just.
He greatly deplored the misrepresentation of the partisan newspapers, believing that the people of a nation would never go wrong if they had the truth before them upon which to make up their minds. It is very generally true that parties have governed for the spoils of power and office. Political parties have very often fostered false argument and worse distortion of their opponents’ meaning, so that large numbers of honorable and honest-minded persons have been misled into truly fearful fanaticism, and more fearful support of purposes, which, if they had known, they would have abhorred.
III. A LIFE-LIKE SCENE FROM WASHINGTON’S HOME LIFE
John Bernard, a noted English actor, who came to play an engagement in America soon after Washington had retired from the presidency, tells an experience which gives us quite a picture of our own, in which we can see Washington free from all the glamor of fame that usually half hides the real man from our view.
Bernard says that he was playing at Annapolis in 1798 when, one day, he went out riding down below Alexandria. Just as he was coming in sight of a man and young woman riding toward him in a chaise, the carriage was overturned and the two were thrown violently out. The man was not hurt but the woman was struck unconscious. The actor rode hurriedly up, and, dismounting, began at once to see what could be done for the woman. Soon she returned to consciousness with a volley of fierce scolding at her husband that was extremely ludicrous, if not ridiculous.
Bernard now noticed that another man had ridden up and was helping the unfortunate husband to extricate the horse and get the animal upon its feet. The three men then set to work to get the heavy carriage, still heavier loaded with baggage, back into service. It was a hot July day and the half hour’s work was a rather exhausting task for two who seemed to be out riding for mere recreation.