young girls of various ages, arrayed in white, the emblem of truth and
innocence, their brows circled with garlands, and baskets of flowers in
their hands. Beyond these were disposed the grown-up daughters of the
land, clothed and equipped like the others, and behind them the matrons,
all of whom remembered the never-to-be-forgotten twenty-sixth of
December, 1776. As the good Washington left the bridge, they joined in a
chorus, touchingly expressive of his services and their gratitude,
strewing, at the same time, flowers as he passed along. That mouth whose
muscles of gigantic strength indicated the firmness of his character and
the force of his mind, was now observed to quiver with emotion; that eye
which looked storms and tempests, enemies and friends, undauntedly in
the face, and never quailed in the sight of man, now glistened with
tears; and that hand which had not trembled when often life, fame, and
the liberty of his country hung on the point of a single moment, now
refused its office. His hat dropped from his hand as he drew it across
his brow.
His reception everywhere was worthy of his services and of a grateful
people. At New York the vessels were adorned with flags, and the river
alive with boats gayly decked out in like manner, with bands of music on
board; the place of his landing was thronged with crowds of citizens,
gathered together to welcome his arrival. The roar of cannon and the
shouts of the multitude announced his landing, and he was conducted to
his lodging by thousands of grateful hearts, who remembered what he had
done for them in the days of their trial.
It had been arranged that a military escort should attend him; but when
the officer in command announced his commission, Washington replied, "I
require no guard but the affections of the people," and declined their
attendance.
At this moment, so calculated to inflate the human heart with vanity,
Washington, though grateful for these spontaneous proofs of affectionate
veneration, was not elated. In describing the scene in one of his
familiar letters, he says: "The display of boats on this occasion with
vocal and instrumental music on board, the decorations of the ships, the
roar of cannon, and the loud acclamations of the people, as I passed
along the wharves, gave me as much pain as pleasure, contemplating the
probable reversal of this scene, after all my endeavors to do good."
Happily, his anticipations were never realized. Although his policy in
relation to the French Revolution, which was as wise as it was happy in
its consequences, did not give universal satisfaction, still he remained
master of the affections and confidence of the people. The laurels he
had won in defence of the liberties of his country continued to flourish
on his brow while living, and will grow green on his grave to the end of
time.
On April 30, 1789, he took the oath and entered on the office of
President of the United States, one of the highest as well as most
thankless that could be undertaken by man. The head of this free
Government is no idle, empty pageant set up to challenge the admiration
and coerce the absolute submission of the people; his duties are arduous
and his responsibilities great; he is the first servant, not the master,
of the state, and is amenable for his conduct, like the humblest
citizen. As the executor of the laws, he is bound to see them obeyed; as
the first of our citizens, he is equally bound to set an example of
obedience. The oath, "to preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution
of the United States," was administered in the balcony of the old
Federal Hall in New York, by the chancellor of the State, and the Bible
on which it was sworn is still preserved as a sacred relic.
At the time Washington assumed the high functions of President of the
United States, there was ample room for the exertion of all his
firmness, integrity, and talents. A new constitution to be administered,
without the aid of experience or precedent, by an authority to which the
people were strangers; serious and alarming difficulties to be adjusted
with England; the Indian nations all along our frontier brandishing
their tomahawks and whetting their scalping-knives; war with
Mediterranean pirates; the Spaniards denying our right to navigate the
Mississippi, and the people of Kentucky threatening a separation from
the Union unless that right was successfully asserted by the Government.
Other difficulties stared the new President full in the face. Some of
the States still declined to accept the new Constitution, and become
members of the Confederation; others nearly equally divided on the
subject; and a debt of eighty million dollars; to meet all which there
was an army of less than a thousand men and an empty treasury.
Here was enough, and more than enough, to call forth all the energies,
if not to produce despair in the mind, of an ordinary man. But
Washington was not such a man. Conscious of the purity of his purposes,
he relied on the protection of that Power which is all purity. His first
care was to provide for the civil and judicial administration of the
government, by the appointment of men in whose virtue and capacity a
long experience had given him confidence. Having done this he took the
reins with a firm, steady hand, and commenced the ascent of the rugged
steep before him.
The next object that called his attention was the situation of the
inland frontier, now exposed to the inroads of the savages, who had not
been included in the general pacification, although a proposition to
that effect had been made by the British commissioners. Although our
Government has always treated with the Indians as independent tribes, it
has never placed them on the footing of civilized nations, or admitted
any mediation on the part of foreign powers. The United States do not
recognize them as parties in civilized warfare; they neither avail
themselves of their alliance nor acknowledge them as the auxiliaries of
other nations.
A system was devised for the conduct of those singular relations which
alone can subsist between people so different in all respects, moral and
political. The wisdom of that system has been exemplified in having
uniformly been acted upon to this time, and though it may perhaps be
questioned as to its abstract principles, it would be perhaps difficult
if not impossible to devise a better. Our ancestors came to this country
under the sanction of a principle at that time universally acknowledged
among civilized nations, and when once here, the first law of nature,
self-defence, furnishes their only justification. While weak, they were
obliged to defend themselves, and when they became strong they were
probably too apt to remember their former sufferings.
The policy of Washington, with regard to these unfortunate people, was
successful in quieting, if not conciliating many of the Indian tribes;
but others remained refractory and continued their atrocities. After
defeating two American armies with great slaughter, they were at length
brought to terms by the gallant Wayne, who gave them so severe a beating
in a great general action that they sued for peace. This was concluded
at Greenville; and the cession of a vast territory not only relieved the
frontier from savage inroads, but paved the way for the progress of
civilization into a new world of wilderness.
He was equally successful at a subsequent period in his negotiations
with Spain. His high character for veracity and honor gave him singular
advantages in his foreign intercourse. He proceeded in a
straightforward, open manner, stated what was wanted, and what would be
given in return; relied on justice, and enforced its claims with the
arguments of truth. He disdained to purchase advantages by corruption,
or to deceive by insincerity. As in private, so in public life, he
proceeded inflexibly upon the noble maxim, whose truth is every day
verified, that "Honesty is the best policy." The conviction of a man's
integrity gives him far greater advantages in his intercourse with the
world than he can ever gain by hypocrisy and falsehood. The right of
navigating the Mississippi was finally conceded by Spain.
The settlement of the controversies growing out of the treaty with
England proved even more difficult than those with Spain. The wounds
inflicted on both nations by a war of so many years were healed, but the
scars remained, to remind the one of what it had suffered, the other of
what it had lost. Time and mutual good offices were necessary to allay
that spirit which had been excited on one hand by injuries, on the other
by successful resistance; and time indeed had passed away, but it had
left behind it neither forgiveness nor oblivion. It was accompanied on
one hand by new provocations, on the other by additional remonstrances
and renewed indignation. Negotiations continued for a long while,
without any result but mortification and impatience on the part of the
people of the United States; and it was not until the French Revolution
threatened the existence of all the established governments of Europe,
and England among the rest, that a treaty was concluded, which brought
with it an adjustment of the principal points that had so long embroiled
the two nations and fostered a spirit of increasing hostility. The most
vexing question of all however--that of the right of entering our ships
and impressing seamen--was left unsettled, and it became obvious that it
would never be adjusted except on the principle of the right of the
strongest. About the same time peace was concluded between the United
States and the Emperor of Morocco, and thus, for a while, our commerce
remained unmolested on that famous sea where, some years afterward, our
gallant navy laid the foundation of its present and future glories.
It is not my design to enter minutely into the principles or conduct of
the two great parties, which, from the period of the adoption of the
Constitution down to the present time, have been struggling for
ascendency in the Government of the United States. My limits will not
permit me, if I wished; but if they did, I should decline the task. My
youthful readers will know and feel their excitement soon enough,
perhaps too soon; and I wish not to become instrumental in implanting in
their tender minds the seeds of social and political antipathies. I am
attempting to picture a great and virtuous man; to exhibit a noble moral
example for the imitation of the children of my country. My business is
with the actions of Washington, not with the imputations of his enemies
or the struggles of ambitious politicians. Posterity has placed him far
above such puny trifles and triflers, and I will not assist, however
humbly, in reviving imputations which have long since sunk into
oblivion or insignificance under the weight of his mighty name.
The French Revolution, which set the Old World in a blaze, but for the
wisdom and firmness of Washington would have involved the United States
in the labyrinth of European policy. He it was that prevented their
becoming parties in that series of tremendous wars which desolated some
of the fairest portions of the earth; caused the rivers to run red with
blood; overturned and erected thrones; converted kings into the
playthings of fortune; and ended in the creation of a mighty phantom,
which, after being the scourge and terror of the world, vanished from
our sight on a desolate rock of the ocean.
The people of the United States had continued to cherish a strong
feeling of gratitude for the good offices of France during their
struggle for independence; and in addition to this, their sympathies
were deeply engaged in behalf of a contest so similar in many respects
to their own. The institution of the French Republic was hailed with an
enthusiasm equal to that they felt on the establishment of their own
liberties; and, but for the firm and steady hand of Washington, they
would have taken the bridle between their teeth and run headlong into
the vortex of European revolution.
Washington issued his famous Proclamation of Neutrality, from which Mr.
Genet, the minister of the French Republic, threatened to appeal to the
people, a measure understood to mean nothing less than revolution. From
that moment the people began to rally around their beloved chief, like
children who will not allow their father to be insulted, although they
themselves may think him wrong. They sanctioned the proclamation, and
time has ratified their decision. It is believed there is not a rational
American who does not now feel that the course of Washington was founded
in consummate wisdom, deep feeling, and eternal justice.
Having been twice unanimously elected to the highest office in the gift
of men; having served his country faithfully eight years in war and
eight in peace, having settled the government on a permanent basis,
established a series of precedents for the imitation of his successors,
and seeing the United States now resting happily in the lap of repose
and prosperity; having fulfilled all and more than they had a right to
ask of him, and consummated all his public duties, Washington now
signified his intention of declining a reelection. During the arduous
services of the preceding term, he had been obliged to retire for a
while to the repose of Mount Vernon for the reestablishment of his
health, and he now resolved to relieve himself finally from all the
duties and cares of public life. He had earned this privilege by a whole
life of arduous patriotism, and without doubt wished to close his public
career by one more act of moderation, as a guide to those who might come
after him. He believed eight years to be a sufficient term of service in
the office of President for any one single man, and determined to
establish the precedent by setting the example himself.
Feeling on this occasion like a father about to take a final leave of
his children, and give them his parting blessing, Washington, at the
moment of announcing his intention of retiring from the world, addressed
to the people of the United States his last memorable words. These were
conveyed in a letter to his "friends and fellow-citizens," fraught with
lessons of virtue and patriotism, adorned by the most touching
simplicity, the most mature wisdom, the most affectionate and endearing
earnestness of paternal solicitude. He was now about to withdraw his
long and salutary guardianship from his young and vigorous country, his
only offspring, and he left her the noblest legacy in his power, the
priceless riches of his precepts and example.
"In looking forward," he says, "to the moment which is intended to
terminate the career of my public life, my feelings do not permit me to
suspend the deep acknowledgment of that debt of gratitude which I owe to
my beloved country for the many honors it has conferred upon me, or
still more for the steadfast confidence with which it has supported me,
and for the opportunities thence enjoyed of manifesting my inviolable
attachment by services, useful and persevering, though in usefulness
unequal to my zeal.
"Profoundly penetrated with this idea, I shall carry it with me to my
grave, as a strong incitement to unceasing vows, that Heaven may
continue to you the choicest tokens of its beneficence; that your union
and brotherly affection may be perpetual; that the free constitution
which is the work of your hands may be sacredly maintained; that its
administration in every department may be stamped with wisdom and
virtue; that in fine, the happiness of these States, under the auspices
of liberty, may be made complete by so careful a preservation and so
prudent a use of this blessing as will acquire to them the glory of
recommending it to the applause, the affection, and the adoption of
every nation which is yet a stranger to it.
"Here, perhaps, I ought to stop. But solicitude for your welfare, which
cannot end but with my life, and the apprehension of danger natural to
such solicitude, urge me, on an occasion like the present, to offer to
your solemn contemplation, and to recommend to your frequent review,
some sentiments which are the result of much reflection, of no
inconsiderable observation, and which appear to me all-important to your
felicity as a people. These will be offered to you with the more
freedom, as you can only see in them the disinterested warnings of a
parting friend, who can possibly have no personal motive to bias his
counsel.
"Interwoven as is the love of liberty with every ligament of your
hearts, no recommendation of mine is necessary to fortify the
attachment.
"The unity of government, which constitutes you one people, is also now
dear to you. It is justly so; for it is the main pillar in the edifice
of your real independence, the support of your tranquillity at home and
your peace abroad; of your prosperity, of that liberty which you so
highly prize. But as it is easy to foresee that from different causes
and from different quarters, much pains will be taken, many artifices
employed, to weaken in your minds the conviction of this truth--as this
is the point in your political fortress against which the batteries of
internal and external enemies will be constantly and actively, though
often covertly and insidiously directed--it is of infinite moment that
you should properly estimate the immense value of your national union to
your collective and individual happiness; that you should cherish a
cordial, habitual, and immovable attachment to it, accustoming
yourselves to think and speak of it as of the palladium of your
political safety and prosperity; watching for its preservation with
jealous anxiety; discountenancing whatever may suggest even a suspicion
that it may be in any event abandoned; and indignantly frowning upon
every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or
to enfeeble the sacred ties that now link together the various parts."
He then proceeds to caution his fellow-citizens against those
geographical distinctions of "North," "South," "East," and "West,"
which, by fostering ideas of separate interests and character, are
calculated to weaken the bonds of our union, and to create prejudices,
if not antipathies, dangerous to its existence. He shows, by a simple
reference to the great paramount interests of each of the different
sections, that they are inseparably intertwined in one common bond; that
they are mutually dependent on each other; and that they cannot be rent
asunder without deeply wounding our prosperity at home, our character
and influence abroad, laying the foundation for perpetual broils among
ourselves, and creating a necessity for great standing armies,
themselves the most fatal enemies to the liberties of mankind.
He earnestly recommends implicit obedience to the laws of the land, as
one of the great duties enjoined by the fundamental maxims of liberty.
"The basis of our political system," he says, "is the right of the
people to make and alter their constitutions of government; but the
constitution which at any time exists, till changed by an explicit and
authentic act of the whole people, is sacredly obligatory upon all. The
very idea of the power and right of the people to establish government
presupposes the duty of every individual to obey the established
government."
He denounces "all combinations and associations under whatever plausible
character, with the real design to direct, control, counteract, or awe
the regular deliberation and action of the constituted authorities," as
destructive to this fundamental principle and of fatal tendency. He
cautions his countrymen against the extreme excitements of party spirit;
the factious opposition and pernicious excesses to which they inevitably
tend, until by degrees they gradually incline the minds of men to seek
security and repose in the absolute power of an individual; and sooner
or later the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or more
fortunate than his competitors, turns his disposition to the purposes of
his own elevation, on the ruins of public liberty.
He warns those who are to administer the government after him, "to
confine themselves within their respective constitutional spheres,
refraining, in the exercise of the powers of one department, to
encroach upon another. The spirit of encroachment tends to consolidate
the powers of all the departments in one, and thus to create, whatever
the form of government, real despotism."
He inculcates, with the most earnest eloquence, a regard to religion and
morality.
"Of all the dispositions and habits," he says, "which lead to political
prosperity, religion and morality are indispensable supports. In vain
would that man claim the tribute of patriotism who should labor to
subvert these great pillars of human happiness, these firmest props of
men and citizens. The mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought
to respect and to cherish them. A volume could not trace all their
connections with private and public felicity. Let it be simply added,
where is the security for property, for reputation, for life, if the
sense of religious obligation desert the oaths which are the instruments
of investigation in courts of justice? And let us with caution indulge
the supposition that morality can be attained without religion. Whatever
may be conceded to a refined education, or minds of peculiar cast,
reason and experience both forbid us to expect that national morality
can prevail in the exclusion of religious principles."
He recommends the general diffusion of knowledge among all classes of
the people. "Promote, then," he says, "as an object of primary
importance, institutions for the general diffusion of knowledge. In
proportion as the structure of government gives force to public opinion,
it is essential that public opinion should be enlightened."
He recommends the practice of justice and good faith, and the
cultivation of the relations of peace with all mankind, as not only
enforced by the obligations of religion and morality, but by all the
maxims of sound policy. For the purpose of a successful pursuit of this
great object, he cautions his fellow-citizens against the indulgence of
undue partiality or prejudice in favor or against any nation whatever,
as leading to weak sacrifices on one hand, senseless hostility on the
other.
Most emphatically does he warn them against the wiles of foreign
influence, the fatal enemy of all the ancient republics. He enjoins a
watchful jealousy of all equally impartial, otherwise it may only lead
to the suspicion of visionary dangers on one hand and wilful blindness
on the other.
Then, after recommending a total abstinence from all political alliances
with the nations of Europe; a due regard to the national faith toward
public creditors; suitable establishments for the defence of the
country, that we may not be tempted to rely on foreign aid, and which
will never be afforded, in all probability without the price of great
sacrifices on the part of the nation depending on the hollow friendship
of jealous rivals, he concludes this admirable address, which ought to
be one of the early lessons of every youth of our country, in the
following affecting words:
"Though in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am
unconscious of international error, I am nevertheless too sensible of my
defects not to think it probable that I may have committed many errors.
Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech the Almighty to avert or
mitigate the evils of which they may tend. I shall always carry with me
the hope that my country will never cease to view them with indulgence,
and that after forty-five years of a life dedicated to its service, with
an upright zeal, the faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned
to oblivion, as myself must soon be to the mansions of rest.
"Relying on its kindness in this as in all things, and actuated by that
fervent love toward it which is so natural to a man who views it as the
native soil of himself and his progenitors for several generations, I
anticipate with pleasing expectations that retreat in which I promise
myself to realize, without alloy, the sweet enjoyment of partaking in
the midst of my fellow-citizens the benign influence of good laws under
a free government, the ever-favorite object of my heart, and the happy
reward, as I trust, of our mutual cares, labors, and dangers."