In a memorable address, Edward Everett remarked: “The war was conducted by Washington under every possible disadvantage. He engaged in it without any personal experience in the handling of large bodies of men, and this was equally the case with all his subordinates. The Continental Congress, under whose authority the war was waged, was destitute of all the attributes of an efficient government. It had no power of taxation, and no right to compel the obedience of the individual. The country was nearly as destitute of the material of war as of the means of procuring it; it had no foundries, no arsenals, no forts, no navy, no means, no credit. The opposing power had all the prestige of an ancient monarchy, of the legitimate authority of disciplined and veteran armies, of a powerful navy, of the military possession of most of the large towns, and the machinery of government for peace and war. It had also the undoubted sympathy of a considerable portion of the people, especially of the wealthy class. That Washington, carrying on the war under these circumstances, met with frequent reverses, and that the progress of the Revolution as conducted by him seemed often languid and inert, is less wonderful than that he rose superior to such formidable obstacles, and was able, with unexhausted patience and matchless skill, to bring the contest eventually to an auspicious and honorable close.”
The Constitutional Convention
In his admirable memorial of the One Hundredth Anniversary of the Constitution of the United States, Hampton L. Carson says: “During the years of bankruptcy, anarchy, and civil paralysis, which preceded the formation of a more lasting Union, Washington constantly urged the establishment of a stronger national government. He saw the folly, the weakness, and the insignificance of a government powerless to enforce its decrees, dependent upon the discretion of thirteen different Legislatures, swayed by conflicting interests, and therefore unable to provide for the public safety, or for the honorable payment of the national debt. He clearly saw the necessity for a government which could command the obedience of individuals by operating directly upon them, and not upon sovereign States. In his private as well as official correspondence during an early period of the war, in his last words to his officers at Newburgh, in his speech when resigning his commission at Annapolis, and after his return to Mount Vernon, in his letters to Hamilton, Jefferson, Mason, and Madison, he constantly and vigorously urged the idea of a stronger Union, and a surrender of a portion of the sovereignty of the States. When the Federal Convention was determined on, it was natural as well as appropriate that he should be selected as one of the delegates from Virginia, and, as a proof of the magnitude and solemnity of the duty to be performed, he was placed at the head of the State delegation. Upon his arrival in Philadelphia, in May, 1787, he called upon the venerable Franklin, then eighty-one years of age, and the great soldier and the great philosopher conferred together upon the evils which had befallen their beloved country and threatened it with dangers far greater than those of war. Upon the nomination of Robert Morris, Washington was unanimously chosen president of the Convention,—an honor for which he expressed his thanks in a few simple words, reminding his colleagues of the novelty of the scene of business in which he was to act, lamenting his want of better qualifications, and claiming indulgence towards the involuntary errors which his inexperience might occasion. In that body of fifty-five statesmen and jurists—such men as Hamilton, Madison, Dickinson, Rutledge, Morris, and Carroll—Washington did not shine as a debater. Of oratorical talents he had none, but the breadth and sagacity of his views, his calmness of judgment, his exalted character, and the vast grasp of his national sympathy, exerted a powerful influence upon the labors of the Convention. So far as the record shows, he seems to have broken silence but twice,—once when he disapproved of the exclusive origination of money-bills in the House of Representatives, a view which he abandoned for the sake of harmony, and again when he wished the ratio of representation reduced. The proceedings were held in secret, and not until after four months of arduous and continuous toil did the people know how great or how wonderful was the work of the men who builded better than they knew. When the Constitution was before the people for adoption, and the result was in doubt, Gouverneur Morris wrote to Washington as follows:
“I have observed that your name to the Constitution has been of infinite service. Indeed, I am convinced that if you had not attended the Convention, and the same paper had been handed out to the world, it would have met with a colder reception, with fewer and weaker advocates, and with more and more strenuous opponents. As it is, should the idea prevail that you will not accept the Presidency, it will prove fatal in many parts. The truth is that your great and decided superiority leads men willingly to put you in a place which will not add to your present dignity, nor raise you higher than you already stand.”
In the interval neither the voice nor the pen of Washington was idle. In many of his most interesting letters he constantly urged upon his countrymen the necessity of adopting the work of the Convention as the only remedy for the evils with which the country was afflicted. When the new government went into operation he was unanimously chosen as the first President, and was sworn into office in the city of New York, April 30, 1789. In 1792, though anxious to retire, he was again chosen to the executive chair by the unanimous vote of every electoral college; and for a third time, in 1796, was earnestly entreated to consent to a re-election, but firmly declined, thus establishing by the force of his example a custom which has remained unbroken, and which has become a part of the unwritten law of the Republic.
Division of Legislative Authority
The late Francis Lieber related the following story in a letter to a friend:
“An incident of more than usual interest occurred to-day, just after the class in constitutional law was dismissed, at the university. I had been lecturing upon the advantages of the bicameral system, had dismissed the class, and was about to leave the room, when a young man, whom I knew had taken instructions under Laboulaye, in Paris, approached me, and said that what I had urged in regard to the bicameral system reminded him of a story which he had heard Laboulaye relate. I was interested, of course, and, as the class gathered around, he proceeded with the following: Laboulaye said, in one of his lectures, that Jefferson, who had become so completely imbued with French ideas as even to admire the uni-cameral system of legislation, one day visited Washington at Mount Vernon, and, in the course of the conversation that ensued, the comparative excellence of the two systems came up for consideration. After considerable had been said on both sides, finally, at the tea-table, Washington, turning sharply to Jefferson, said,—
“‘You, sir, have just demonstrated the superior excellence of the bicameral system, by your own hand.’
“‘I! How is that?’ said Jefferson, not a little surprised.