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WASHINGTON.

THEODORE PARKER.

[The following extract is taken from "Historic Americans," a posthumously-published volume, consisting of four lectures prepared by Mr. Parker in 1858, on Franklin, Washington, John Adams, and Jefferson.]

In his person, Washington was six feet high, and rather slender. His limbs were long; his hands were uncommonly large, his chest broad and full, his head was exactly round, and the hair brown in manhood, but gray at fifty; his forehead rather low and retreating, the nose large and massy, the mouth wide and firm, the chin square and heavy, the cheeks full and ruddy in early life. His eyes were blue and handsome, but not quick or nervous. He required spectacles to read with at fifty. He was one of the best riders in the United States, but, like some other good riders, awkward and shambling in his walk. He was stately in his bearing, reserved, distant, and apparently haughty. Shy among women, he was not a great talker in any company, but a careful observer and listener. He read the natural temper of men, but not always aright. He seldom smiled. He did not laugh with his face, but in his body, and, while calm above, below the diaphragm his laughter was copious and earnest. Like many grave persons, he was fond of jokes, and loved humorous stories. He had negro storytellers to regale him with fun and anecdotes at Mount Vernon. He was not critical about his food, but fond of tea. He took beer or cider at dinner, and occasionally wine. He hated drunkenness, gaming, and tobacco. He had a hearty love of farming and of private life. There was nothing of the politician in him, no particle of cunning. He was one of the most industrious of men.

Not

an elegant or accurate writer, he yet took great pains with style, and, after the Revolution, carefully corrected the letters he had written in the time of the French War, more than thirty years before. He was no orator, like Jefferson, Franklin, Madison, and others, who had great influence in American affairs. He never made a speech. The public papers were drafted for him, and he read them when the occasion came. Washington was no democrat. Like the Federal party he belonged to, he had little confidence in the people. He thought more of the Judicial and Executive departments than of the Legislative body. He loved a strong central power, not local self-government. A little tumult, like Shays's insurrection in Massachusetts, or the rebellion in Pennsylvania, made him and his Federal associates tremble for the safety of the nation. He did not know that something must be forgiven to the spirit of Liberty. In his administration as President, he attempted to unite the two parties,-the Federal party, with its tendency to monarchy, and perhaps desire for it, and the Democratic party, which thought that the government was already too strong. But there was a quarrel between Hamilton and Jefferson, who unavoidably hated each other. The Democrats would not serve in Washington's Cabinet. The violent, arbitrary, and invasive will of Hamilton acquired an undue influence over Washington, who was beginning, at sixty-four, to feel the effects of age, and he inclined more and more to severe laws and consolidated power, while on the other part the nation became more and more democratic. Washington went on his own way, and yet filled his Cabinet with men less tolerant of Republicanism than himself.

Of all the great men whom Virginia has produced, Washington was least like the State that bore him. He is not Southern in many particulars. In character he is

as much a New-Englander as either Adams. Yet, wonderful to tell, he never understood New England. The slave-holder, bred in Virginia, could not comprehend a state of society where the captain or the colonel came from the same class as the common soldier, and that off duty they should be equals. He thought common soldiers should only be provided with food and clothes and have no pay. Their families should not be provided for by the State. He wanted the officers to be "gentlemen," and, as much as possible, separate from the soldier. . . . He never understood New England, never loved it, never did it full justice. It has been said Washington was not a great soldier; but certainly he created an army out of the roughest materials, out-generalled all that Britain could send against him, and, in the midst of poverty and distress, organized victory. He was not brilliant and rapid. He was slow, defensive, and victorious. He made "an empty bag stand upright," which Franklin says is "hard." Some men command the world, or hold its admiration by their ideas or by their intellect. Washington had neither original ideas nor a deeply-cultured mind. He commands by his integrity, by his justice. He loved power by instinct, and strong government by reflective choice. Twice he was made Dictator, with absolute power, and never abused the awful and despotic trust. The monarchic soldiers and civilians would make him king. He trampled on their offer, and went back to his fields of corn and tobacco at Mount Vernon. The grandest act of his public life was to give up his power; the most magnanimous deed of his private life was to liberate his slaves.

Washington is the first man of his type: when will there be another? As yet the American rhetoricians do not dare tell half his excellence; but the people should not complain.

Cromwell is the greatest Anglo-Saxon who was ever a ruler on a large scale. In intellect he was immensely superior to Washington; in integrity, immeasurably below him. For one thousand years no king in Christendom has shown such greatness, or gives us so high a type of manly virtue. He never dissembled. He sought nothing for himself. In him there was no unsound spot, nothing little or mean in his character. The whole was clean and presentable. We think better of mankind because he lived, adorning the earth with a life so noble. Shall we make an idol of him, and worship it with huzzas on the Fourth of July, and with stupid rhetoric on other days? Shall we build him a great monument, founding it in a slavepen? His glory already covers the continent. More than two hundred places bear his name. He is revered as "the Father of his Country." The people are his memorial. The New York Indians hold this tradition of him. "Alone, of all white men," say they, "he has been admitted to the Indian heaven, because of his justice to the Red Men. He lives in a great palace, built like a fort. All the Indians, as they go to heaven, pass by, and he himself is in his uniform, a sword at his side, walking to and fro. They bow reverently, with great humility. He returns the salute, but says nothing." Such is the reward of his justice to the Red Men. God be thanked for such

a man!

"A soul supreme, in each hard instance tried,
Above all pain, all passion, and all pride,
The rage of power, the blast of public breath,
The lust of lucre, and the dread of death."

POEMS OF THOUGHT AND SYMPATHY.

The group of poems of an introspective character which we propose to offer under the above title may be fitly introduced by one of the finest and fullest sonnets in the language, the "Thought" of Helen Hunt Jackson.

O MESSENGER, art thou the King, or I?
Thou dalliest outside the palace gate

Till on thine idle armor lie the late

And heavy dews: the morn's bright, scornful eye
Reminds thee; then, in subtle mockery,

Thou smilest at the window where I wait,
Who bade thee ride for life. In empty state
My days go on, while false hours prophesy
Thy quick return; at last, in sad despair,
I cease to bid thee, leave thee free as air;
When, lo, thou stand'st before me glad and fleet,
And lay'st undreamed-of treasures at my feet.
Ah! messenger, thy royal blood to buy,

I am too poor. Thou art the King, not I!

The same subject is handled very differently, but not less ably, in the poem given below.

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