The Americanism of Washington | Page 5

Knox in
1798, in regard to military appointments, declaring his wish to "avoid
feuds with those who are embarked in the same general enterprise with
myself."
Listen to the same spirit as it speaks in his circular address to the
governors of the different States, urging them to "forget their local
prejudices and policies; to make those mutual concessions which are
requisite to the general prosperity, and in some instances to sacrifice
their individual advantages to the interest of the community." Watch
how it guides him unerringly through the critical period of American
history which lies between the success of the Revolution and the
establishment of the nation, enabling him to avoid the pitfalls of
sectional and partisan strife, and to use his great influence with the
people in leading them out of the confusion of a weak confederacy into
the strength of an indissoluble union of sovereign States.

See how he once more sets aside his personal preferences for a quiet
country life, and risks his already secure popularity, together with his
reputation for consistency, by obeying the voice which calls him to be a
candidate for the Presidency. See how he chooses for the cabinet and
for the Supreme Court, not an exclusive group of personal friends, but
men who can be trusted to serve the great cause of Union with fidelity
and power--Jefferson, Randolph, Hamilton, Knox, John Jay, Wilson,
Cushing, Rutledge. See how patiently and indomitably he gives himself
to the toil of office, deriving from his exalted station no gain "beyond
the lustre which may be reflected from its connection with a power of
promoting human felicity." See how he retires, at last, to the longed-for
joys of private life, confessing that his career has not been without
errors of judgment, beseeching the Almighty that they may bring no
harm to his country, and asking no other reward for his labors than to
partake, "in the midst of my fellow-citizens, the benign influence of
good laws under a free government, the ever favorite object of my
heart."
Oh, sweet and stately words, revealing, through their calm reserve, the
inmost secret of a life that did not flare with transient enthusiasm but
glowed with unquenchable devotion to a cause! "The ever favorite
object of my heart"--how quietly, how simply he discloses the source
and origin of a sublime consecration, a lifelong heroism! Thus speaks
the victor in calm retrospect of the long battle. But if you would know
the depth and the intensity of the divine fire that burned within his
breast you must go back to the dark and icy days of Valley Forge, and
hear him cry in passion unrestrained: "If I know my own mind, I could
offer myself a living sacrifice to the butchering enemy, provided that
would contribute to the people's ease. I would be a living offering to the
savage fury and die by inches to save the people."
"The ever favorite object of my heart!" I strike this note again and again,
insisting upon it, harping upon it; for it is the key-note of the music. It
is the capacity to find such an object in the success of the people's
cause, to follow it unselfishly, to serve it loyally, that distinguishes the
men who stood with Washington and who deserve to share his fame. I
read the annals of the Revolution, and I find everywhere this secret and

searching test dividing the strong from the weak, the noble from the
base, the heirs of glory from the captives of oblivion and the inheritors
of shame. It was the unwillingness to sink and forget self in the service
of something greater that made the failures and wrecks of those
tempestuous times, through which the single-hearted and the devoted
pressed on to victory and honor.
Turn back to the battle of Saratoga. There were two Americans on that
field who suffered under a great personal disappointment: Philip
Schuyler, who was unjustly supplanted in command of the army by
General Gates; and Benedict Arnold, who was deprived by envy of his
due share in the glory of winning the battle. Schuyler forgot his own
injury in loyalty to the cause, offered to serve Gates in any capacity,
and went straight on to the end of his noble life giving all that he had to
his country. But in Arnold's heart the favorite object was not his
country, but his own ambition, and the wound which his pride received
at Saratoga rankled and festered and spread its poison through his
whole nature, until he went forth from the camp, "a leper white as
snow."
What was it that made Charles Lee, as fearless a man as ever lived,
play the part of a coward in order to hide his treason at the battle of
Monmouth?