A few minutes from the South Portico of the White House, overlooking the
majestic sweep of the Potomac, stands the tallest piece of marble masonry
in the world. It commemorates the life and deeds of the Father of His
Country. At its foot is a good place to stand and think for a while, as I
did one spring afternoon.
The architect who planned the Washington Monument could not have more
fittingly characterized the man of whom it stands as a memorial. Every
line of its vast form, stretching from the ground to more than six hundred
feet above the level of the river, breathes the spirit of the statesman
and soldier whose leadership is an essential part of our early history.
That long stretch of Maryland marble, capped with its apex of aluminum,
does more, however, than to memorialize and interpret the character of
Washington; it outlines the essential qualities of our people. They were
well typified in Washington. They are, therefore, well typified in a
monument which symbolizes his nature. It is at once a picture of their
past and a prophecy of their future.
It combines simple plainness with rugged strength. One cannot look at it
without thinking of the spirit of the pioneer. The picture of the
pilgrims facing the dangers of an unknown wilderness, that of the
embattled farmers at Concord, and that of the men who have borne the
burdens of the Republic throughout the years each rises into view. We
have had hard tests in the past. We are facing what may yet be harder
ones in the future. No other spirit than that of simple, rugged
Americanism could prove sufficient for either those past or those to come.
The strongest point of America has always been the spirit of her people.
She has amassed a national wealth which has become a wonder to the world.
She has built up a great army and a magnificent navy. She has gained a
place in the councils of the great world powers. She has never reached a
place, however, where she can afford to place such reliance upon any other
power as upon that of the spirit and ideals of her people.
American guns were only an incident in the Revolution. They would have
been failing weapons in the hands of many. They won their cause, however,
because they were carried in the hands of men whose souls were throbbing
with the power of a great conviction. They had the toughness, the courage,
the bravery, and the nerve of the pioneer, but they had more than all
these. They had the consciousness of a worthy cause. They knew they were
fighting for all that was dear to them. They had homes to defend, a
principle to vindicate, and a future to achieve. These things enabled them
to show the world how men can fight when all that they are has been staked
on the struggle.
We still need guns and armies, but we need never hope to graduate from the
fundamental necessity for sturdy and courageous men. The kind of men who
have been our salvation in the past and who are our hope for the future
are always found where habits of plain and rugged simplicity prevail.
However sophisticated our thinking may become, we need to ever cultivate
the kind of physical frames which are developed by plain living and high
thinking. Where Rome placed softness and self-indulgence we must always
keep the simple and wholesome ideals which proved so mighty in the lives
of our fathers.
Another thing to be noted about the Monument is the fact that it stands
foursquare to all the winds. Its ideal of plainness decreed that it should
be so. There are no tricky twists in its plan. Its architecture has no
place for merely decorative turns. There is not a deceptive line nor a
hint of anything superficial.
The habit of being real deserves a place among the chiefest of all
virtues. No one ever gained anything by any measure of pretense and
unreality. No nation ever bettered either itself or the world by any
process of deception and sham. We can no more outgrow the necessity for
truth and honor than we can outdistance that for plain living and
high thinking.
In accordance with this long-standing characteristic, America is leading
the world in its stand against shady intrigues and secret treaties. When
that principle has been vindicated in the conduct of the nations we shall
begin to be able to feel that Mars has been left behind the chariot of
civilization forever.
Another thing to be noticed about the Monument is the fact that it reaches
high but it is founded deeply. From just beneath its aluminum cap the
ground seems very far away. From the base its apex seems to be pushing
itself through the clouds and piercing the sky beyond them. It is a
connecting link between earth and sky, between the common and the lofty,
between the practical and the ideal.
Two people fail to get more than half the meaning and the joy of life.
One is the star-gazer, so enraptured with his visions that he is blind
to life’s practical realities. The other is the extreme realist, so
fearful of the fanciful that he will not lift his eyes from the mud at his
feet and take a look at the glories which hover about the hill of vision.
The American viewpoint is represented by neither alone. It is represented,
rather, by a combination of both. As the Monument stands with its feet
firmly planted in the clay, but with its top among the stars, the national
spirit is best typified by the man who keeps his plans firmly fixed among
practical things, but who also keeps his thinking at the high level of
splendid dreams, worthy ideals, and inspiring visions.
We have achieved such marvelous progress as a nation largely because we
have busied ourselves with real things. We have taken hold of things and
conditions as we found them, and have made the best of them. We have
been the better able to do so, however, because we have not forgotten the
things of the unseen world about us. Our dealing with practical things
has been blessed by the treasuring of spiritual ideals and the following
of worthy dreams. Our place as a nation is largely the result of this
union of hope and thing, this combination of dream and realization, this
blending of the ideal and the practical.