No More Learning

But in those of the popular character, in governments purely elect-
ive, it is a spirit not to be encouraged. From their natural tend.
ency, it is certain that there will always be enough of that spirit
for every salutary purpose; and there being constant danger of
excess, the effort ought to be, by force of public opinion, to miti-
gate and assuage it. A fire not to be quenched, it demands
a uniform vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame; lest
instead of warming, it should coitsume.
It is important, likewise, that the habits of thinking in a free
country should inspire caution in those intrusted with its admin-
istration, to confine themselves within their respective constitu-
tional spheres; avoiding in the exercise of the powers of one
department to encroach upon another. The spirit of encroach-
ment tends to consolidate the powers of all the departments in
one, and thus to create, whatever the form of government, a real
despotism. A just estimate of that love of power, and proneness
to abuse it, which predominates in the human heart, is sufficient
to satisfy us of the truth of this position. The necessity of recip-
rocal checks in the exercise of political power, by dividing it and
distributing it into different depositories, and constituting each the
guardian of the public weal against invasion by the others, has
been evinced by experiments ancient and modern: some of them


## p. 15676 (#634) ##########################################

15676
GEORGE WASHINGTON
in our country and under our own eyes. To preserve them must
be as necessary as to institute them. If, in the opinion of the
people, the distribution or modification of the constitutional pow-
ers be in any particular wrong, let it be corrected by an amend-
ment in the way which the Constitution designates. But let there
be no change by usurpation; for though this, in one instance,
may be the instrument of good, it is the customary weapon by
which free governments are destroyed. The precedent must al-
ways greatly over balance in permanent evil any partial or trans-
ient benefit which the use can at any time yield.
Of all the dispositions and habits which lead to political pros-
perity, 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 the duties 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 simply be asked where is the security for
property, for reputation, for life, if the sense of religious obli-
gation desert the oaths which are the instruments of investigation
in courts of justice ? And let us with caution indulge the sup-
position that morality can be maintained without religion. What-
ever may be conceded to the influence of refined education on
minds of peculiar structure, reason and experience both forbid us
to expect that national morality can prevail in exclusion of reli-
gious principle.
'Tis substantially true that virtue or morality is a necessary
spring of popular government. The rule indeed extends with
more or less force to every species of free government. Who
that is a sincere friend to it can look with indifference upon
attempts to shake the foundation of the fabric?
Promote then, as an object of primary importance, institu-
tions 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.
As a very important source of strength and security, cherish
public credit. One method of preserving it is to use it as spar-
ingly as possible: avoiding occasions of expense by cultivating
peace, but remembering also that timely disbursements to pre-
pare for danger frequently prevent much greater disbursements


## p. 15677 (#635) ##########################################

GEORGE WASHINGTON
15677
to repel it; avoiding likewise the accumulation of debt, not only
by shunning occasions of expense, but by vigorous exertions in
time of peace to discharge the debts which unavoidable wars
may have occasioned, not ungenerously throwing upon posterity
the burthen which we ourselves ought to bear. The execution
of these maxims belongs to your representatives, but it is neces-
sary that public opinion should co-operate. To facilitate to them
the performance of their duty, it is essential that you should
practically bear in mind that towards the payment of debts there
must be revenue; that to have revenue there must be taxes;
that no taxes can be devised which are not more or less incon-
venient and unpleasant; that the intrinsic embarrassment insepa-
rable from the selection of the proper objects (which is always a
choice of difficulties) ought to be a decisive motive for a candid
construction of the conduct of the government in making it, and
for a spirit of acquiescence in the measures for obtaining revenue
which the public exigencies may at any time dictate.
Observe good faith and justice towards all nations; cultivate
peace and harmony with all. Religion and morality enjoin this
conduct, and can it be that good policy does not equally enjoin
it? It will be worthy of a free, enlightened, and at no distant
period, a great nation, to give to mankind the magnanimous and
too novel example of a people always guided by an exalted just-
ice and benevolence. Who can doubt that in the course of time
and things, the fruits of such a plan would richly repay any
temporary advantages which might be lost by a steady adherence
to it ? Can it be that Providence has not connected the per-
manent felicity of a nation with its virtue? The experiment, at
least, is recommended by every sentiment which ennobles human
nature; alas! is it rendered impossible by its vices ?
In the execution of such a plan, nothing is more essential
than that permanent, inveterate antipathies against particular na-
tions, and passionate attachments for others, should be excluded;
and that in place of them, just and amicable feelings towards all
should be cultivated. The nation which indulges towards another
an habitual hatred or an habitual fondness, is in some degree a
slave. It is a slave to its animosity or to its affection, either of
which is sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its interest.
Antipathy in one nation against another disposes each more
readily to offer insult and injury, to lay hold of slight causes of


## p. 15678 (#636) ##########################################

15678
GEORGE WASHINGTON
umbrage, and to be haughty and intractable when accidental or
trifling occasions of dispute occur. Hence frequent collisions,-
obstinate, envenomed, and bloody contests. The nation prompted
by ill-will and resentment sometimes impels to war the govern-
ment, contrary to the best calculations of policy. The govern-
ment sometimes participates in the national propensity, and adopts
through passion what reason would reject: at other times it
makes the animosity of the nation subservient to projects of hos-
tility instigated by pride, ambition, and other sinister and per-
nicious motives. The peace often, sometimes perhaps the liberty,
of nations has been the victim.
So likewise a passionate attachment of one nation for another
produces a variety of evils. Sympathy for the favorite nation,
facilitating the illusion of an imaginary common interest where
no real interest exists, and infusing into one the enmities of the
other, betrays the former into a participation in the quarrels and
wars of the latter, without adequate inducement or justification.
It leads also to concessions to the favorite nation of privileges
denied to others; which is apt doubly to injure the nation mak-
ing the concessions, by unnecessarily parting with what ought to
have been retained, and by exciting jealousy, ill-will, and a dis-
position to retaliate, in the parties from whom equal privileges
are withheld. And it gives to ambitious, corrupted, or deluded
citizens (who devote themselves to the favorite nation), facility to
betray or sacrifice the interests of their own country, without
odium, sometimes even with popularity; gilding with the appear-
ances of a virtuous sense of obligation, a commendable deference
for public opinion, or a laudable zeal for public good, the base
or foolish compliances of ambition, corruption, or infatuation.
As avenues to foreign influence in innumerable ways, such
attachments are particularly alarming to the truly enlightened
and independent patriot. How many opportunities do they afford
to tamper with domestic factions, to practice the arts of seduc-
tion, to mislead public councils! Such an attachment of a small
or weak towards a great and powerful nation, dooms the former
to be the satellite of the latter.
Against the insidious wiles of foreign influence (I conjure you
to believe me, fellow-citizens), the jealousy of a free people ought
to be constantly awake; since history and experience prove that
foreign influence is one of the most baneful foes of republican


## p. 15679 (#637) ##########################################

GEORGE WASHINGTON
15679
government. But that jealousy, to be useful, must be impartial;
else it becomes the instrument of the very influence to be
avoided, instead of a defense against it. Excessive partiality for
one foreign nation, and excessive dislike of another, cause those
whom they actuate to see danger only on one side, and serve to
veil and even second the arts of influence on the other. Real
patriots who may resist the intrigues of the favorite, are liable to
become suspected and odious; while its tools and dupes usurp
the applause and confidence of the people, to surrender their
interests.
The great rule of conduct for us in regard to foreign nations
is, in extending our commercial relations, to have with them as
little political connection as possible. So far as we have already
formed engagements, let them be fulfilled with perfect good faith.
Here let us stop.
Europe has a set of primary interests, which to us have none,
or a very remote, relation. Hence she must be engaged in fre-
quent controversies, the causes of which are essentially foreign
to our concerns. Hence therefore it must be unwise in us to
implicate ourselves, by artificial ties, in the ordinary vicissitudes
of her politics, or the ordinary combinations and collisions of her
friendships or enmities.
Our detached and distant situation invites and enables us to
pursue a different course. If we remain one people, under an
efficient government, the period is not far off when we may defy
material injury from external annoyance; when we may take
such an attitude as will cause the neutrality we may at any
time resolve upon to be scrupulously respected; when belligerent
nations, under the impossibility of making acquisitions upon us,
will not lightly hazard the giving us provocation; when we may
choose peace or war, as our interest, guided by justice, shall
counsel.
Why forego the advantages of so peculiar a situation? Why
quit our own to stand upon foreign ground ? Why, by inter-
weaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe, entangle
our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rival-
ship, interest, humor, or caprice?
It is our true policy to steer clear of permanent alliances
with any portion of the foreign world, -- so far, I mean, as we are
now at liberty to do it; for let me not be understood as capable


## p. 15680 (#638) ##########################################

15680
GEORGE WASHINGTON
of patronizing infidelity to existing engagements. I hold the
maxim no less applicable to public than to private affairs, that
honesty is always the best policy. I repeat it, therefore, let
those engagements be observed in their genuine sense. But in
my opinion, it is unnecessary and would be unwise to extend
them.
Taking care always to keep ourselves, by suitable establish-
ments, on a respectable defensive posture, we may safely trust
to temporary alliances for extraordinary emergencies.
Harmony, liberal intercourse with all nations, are recommended
by policy, humanity, and interest. But even our commercial pol-
icy should hold an equal and impartial hand: neither seeking nor
granting exclusive favors or preferences; consulting the natural
course of things; diffusing and diversifying by gentle means the
streams of commerce, but forcing nothing; establishing with
powers so disposed — in order to give trade a stable course, to
define the rights of our merchants, and to enable the government
to support them - conventional rules of intercourse, the best that
present circumstances and mutual opinion will permit, but tem-
porary, and liable to be from time to time abandoned or varied
as experience and circumstances shall dictate: constantly keeping
in view that it is folly in one nation to look for disinterested
favors from another; that it must pay with a portion of its inde-
pendence for whatever it may accept under that character; that
by such acceptance it may place itself in the condition of having
given equivalents for nominal favors, and yet of being reproached
with ingratitude for not giving more. There can be no greater
error than to expect or calculate upon real favors from nation to
nation. It is an illusion which experience must cure, which a
just pride ought to discard.
In offering to you, my countrymen, these counsels of an old
and affectionate friend, I dare not hope they will make the
strong and lasting impression I could wish; that they will con-
trol the usual current of the passions, or prevent our nation
from running the course which has hitherto marked the destiny
of nations. But if I may even flatter myself that they may be
productive of some partial benefit, some occasional good; that
they may now and then recur to moderate the fury of party
spirit, to warn against the mischiefs of foreign intrigue, to guard
against the impostures of pretended patriotism: this hope will be


## p. 15681 (#639) ##########################################

GEORGE WASHINGTON
15681
a full recompense for the solicitude for your welfare by which
they have been dictated.
How far, in the discharge of my official duties, I have been
guided by the principles which have been delineated, the public
records and other evidences of my conduct must witness to you
and to the world. To myself, the assurance of my own con-
science is, that I have at least believed myself to be guided by
them.
In relation to the still subsisting war in Europe, my Procla-
mation of the 22d of April, 1793, is the index to my plan.
Sanctioned by your approving voice, and by that of your Repre-
sentatives in both houses of Congress, the spirit of that measure
has continually governed me, uninfluenced by any attempts to
deter or divert me from it.
After deliberate examination, with the aid of the best lights I
could obtain, I was well satisfied that our country, under all the
circumstances of the case, had a right to take a neutral position.
Having taken it, I determined, as far as should depend upon me,
to maintain it with moderation, perseverance, and firmness.
The considerations which respect the right to hold this con-
duct, it is not necessary on this occasion to detail.
I will only
observe that according to my understanding of the matter, that
right, so far from being denied by any of the belligerent powers,
has been virtually admitted by all.
The duty of holding a neutral conduct may be inferred, with-
out anything more, from the obligation which justice and human-
ity impose on every nation, in cases in which it is free to act, to
maintain in violate the relations of peace and amity towards other
nations.
The inducements of interest for observing that conduct will
best be referred to your own reflections and experience. With
me, a predominant motive has been to endeavor to gain time to
our country to settle and nurture its yet recent institutions, and
to progress without interruption to that degree of strength and
consistency which is necessary to give it, humanly speaking, the
command of its own fortunes.
Though in reviewing the incidents of my administration, I am
unconscious of intentional 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
XXVI–981


## p. 15682 (#640) ##########################################

15682
GEORGE WASHINGTON
Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which they may tend.
I shall also carry with me the hope that my country will'never
cease to view them with indulgence; and that, after forty-five
years of my life dedicated to its service with an upright zeal, the
faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned to oblivion, as
myself inust soon be to the mansions of rest.
Relying on its kindness in this as in other things, and actu-
ated by that fervent love towards it which is so natural to a man
who views in it the native soil of himself and his progenitors
for several generations, I anticipate with pleasing expectation 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.
GEORGE WASHINGTON.
UNITED STATES, September 17th, 1796.


## p. 15683 (#641) ##########################################

15683
DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
(1823-1887)
N THE life and writings of David Atwood Wasson, New Eng-
land Transcendentalism found a singularly perfect expres-
sion, a fine, clean, austere embodiment, conspicuous even in
that rare era of incarnate philosophy. He had not the genius of
Emerson, nor the glowing beauty of Parker: he dwelt for the most
part in the chambers of the pure intellect, looking from their high
windows toward the stars. He taught individualism, and the oneness
of the soul with God, and the unity of all things seen and unseen. In
him, perhaps, as in many of his brethren, the forces which are now
producing the pestilence-stricken multitude of writers whose concep-
tion of individualism is love and hate let loose,– in him, these same
forces showed their mystical white side. To him also, love was all,
but love was also law; man was all, but man was all through God:
to him also the natural man was pure; but the natural man was the
spiritual man. Like many of the clamorous school of literature,
nothing less than the universe would suffice Wasson; but he believed
that man receives his inheritance of the universe through harmony
with its moral law.
He came into his own intellectual freedom through much trial.
Born in Brooksville, a coast town of Maine, May 14th, 1823, the child
of a ship-builder, his childhood was spent under a double tyranny of
stern theology and stern labor. He took a child's privilege of hating
Deity and loving dear Nature; so grew with a fragmentary schooling
into a youth who began to find ways of his own into the unseen, and
now congenial, world. He passed through North Yarmouth Academy,
.
,
through Phillips Academy, and partly through Bowdoin College. A
few years before entering college, an accident in a wrestling match
left him with the ill-health which all his life hampered him. His
college course was succeeded by law studies at Belfast, but these
were soon discontinued. Carlyle was speaking to him through “Sartor
Resartus'; his soul was thirsty for reality.
Entering the Theological School in Bangor in 1849, he remained
there two years, and was then ordained pastor of an evangelical
church in Groveland, Massachusetts. His intellectual development
had now brought him into that position of entire acquiescence with
the demands of the whole, the Good, and the Beautiful, which may


## p. 15684 (#642) ##########################################

15684
DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
}
1
be so easily confounded with indifference. His congregation admired
but could not comprehend his exquisite mysticism, which bound the
reason and the soul in so loving a marriage. Some doubted; the
crisis came when Wasson preached a sermon against what were to
him obnoxious doctrines in the orthodox faith. His own orthodoxy
seemed to his congregation too much a part of the sunlight and air.
He was forced to form an independent church. His career after this
was largely determined by the exigencies of ill-health. For two
years he was pastor of Theodore Parker's Congregational Society in
Boston. He resided for a time in Concord and in Worcester; he was
for three years storekeeper of the custom-house in West Medford;
he lived for three years in Germany.
Wherever he was, he car-
ried on his old battle with disease; yet wrote and read incessantly,
and lived his life of thought, which seemed ever to grow clearer and
stronger. He was in the ranks of the rationalists, yet his spirituality
guided him always into the serene air of harmony. He died in West
Medford in 1887.
He wrote a great number of essays, which were published in the
New-Englander, the North American Review, the Atlantic Monthly.
the Radical, and other magazines. The subjects of these essays
cover a wide range, but there is between them the bond of an under-
lying unity. Wasson, whose creed embraced the universe, could not
well touch upon a subject outside that creed. He looks upon art,
upon literature, upon religion, upon science, in the clear broad light
of the absolute. His is the temper of a brother to the universe; yet
for this reason his essays lack perhaps the home-like quality, - the
inferior, necessary, limited outlook. They are written in strong nerv-
ous English, in an austere yet graceful style, well expressive of Was-
son's spirit.
His poetry possesses many of the characteristics of his
prose; being the fruit of noble feeling, as the essays of noble thought.
Both his prose and his verse offer an esoape from the heated air of
passion-haunted literature, into the wintry sunshine of a calm and
exalted philosophy.
THE GENIUS OF WOMAN
From Essays; Religious, Social, Political. ? Copyright 1888, by Lee & Shepard
A
N UNKNOWN friend has asked me to write upon woman. The
terms in which the request was made express a spirit so
large, while also it was accompanied by an offer so gen-
erous, that I do not feel at liberty to refuse, though the theme
appalls me. To write worthily upon man in general were not


## p. 15685 (#643) ##########################################

DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
15685
.
easy; but when one selects for a subject that half of mankind
whose nature differs from that of the other moiety by its greater
delicacy and subtilty, by its grace of concealment, by its charm
that only is a charm because it defies analysis, by powers whose
peculiar character it is to tread untraceable paths and work more
finely than explicit thought, then the difficulty of treatment
becomes such that I wonder at my own temerity in attempting
the topic, and am half inclined to find in my consent an argu-
ment of my unfitness to write upon it. Yet it is a matter which
I have a good deal meditated, and one upon which light is
greatly needed.
At present nothing is so discouraging as the shadow which
passes over the face of earnest women when one remarks that
from their sex has never proceeded an Iliad, a Parthenon, an
(Organon' or 'Principia. ' And when the more hopeful among
them reply, «Give us equal opportunity, and see what we will
do to stop your boast,” the case becomes more discouraging still.
The date-palm is not pine, oak, or teak, but thinks it may become
such, and furnish timbers and masts for ships some day. Why
this false desire ? Why is not woman the first to remark and
insist upon the fact that she does not build, whether epics or
temples or systems of thought, for the very good reason that
she has a genius of her own, and is not a reduced copy of man ?
The statement makes for her, not against her; it is argument of
superiority in a kind and manner of her own.
Let her respect
her own nature. Let her, if she must make assertion in her
own behalf, maintain that her actual performance in the history
of humanity needs no imaginary eking out to bear comparison
with masculine achievement. This I, for one, strenuously affirm.
And in order to throw some little light upon this matter, which
has been darkened so deplorably, I will endeavor in the present
essay to offer some suggestions upon the genius of woman.
The primary distinction seems to me this: that Thought
is masculine; Sentiment, feminine. Of course, both these must
be found, more or less, in every human being: but in a manly
character the one will predominate; in a womanly character, the
other. This characteristic pre-eminence being secured, the sub-
ordinate faculty may exist in any degree of power; no measure
of sentiment, which leaves thought sovereign, detracts from
manliness; no vigor of intellect, which does not dispute the em-
pire of sentiment, diminishes the grace of woman. Indeed, each
I.


## p. 15686 (#644) ##########################################

15686
DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
2.
character, while remaining true to its own ideal, is richer in pro-
portion to the presence of the opposite element.
As the eye of sentiment, woman has an intuitive percep-
tion, requiring always the nearness of its objects; but so quick,
so subtle and untraceable in its action, that for want of any
more distinctive term, we can often give it no other name than
feeling She carries divining-rods, mysterious to herself as to
another; can render no reason for what she affirms, but says,
“Here it is; this is it. ” Her conclusions are reached neither by
induction nor by deduction, but by divination. She makes little
use of general principles, defies logic; cannot be convinced against
her will, it is said, -that is, against her feeling; is very commonly
mistaken when she generalizes, and has a kind of infallibility in
particulars. To argue against her persuasion is raining upon
a duck, or reasoning against the wind. She is right and she is
wrong in the teeth of all logic; can easily be confuted, but all
the world will not convince her unless she is persuaded,- that
is, unless her sentiment is won over. She is as often mistaken
as man, but in a wholly different way; for she sees best where
he is blind, and has a dim vision for that which his eye is best
fitted to discern.
This intelligence, so intimate with feeling as to be indistin-
guishable from it, — this winged sensibility, this divination at
close quarters, — has but to be comprehended to make it clear
why woman does not build epics and systems of thought. She
has not a constructive genius, because she does not work so re-
motely, and through such long channels of mediation, as the archi-
tectural genius must. Because she is a diviner, she cannot be a
builder.
Rejoice, O women, that you do not produce Homers and New-
tons. It is that blessed incapability, due to another mode of
human genius, which has again and again held the world fast to
the breasts of living, foodful Nature, when the masculine world
had lost itself among the dead dust and débris of its own labor.
At this very moment my hope for modern civilization clings to
the spirit of woman, to this divining sensibility whose blessed
cannot is the cable that holds humanity to the shores of life. If
woman could cope with man in his own form of labor and excel-
lence, she could also lose herself with him. But, thank God, we
are all born of mothers, and never can quite leave our cradles
behind us.
And ever and anon when the learned scribes of the


## p. 15687 (#645) ##########################################

DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
15687
-
world have buried the Biblical heart out of sight beneath their
traditions,—that is, beneath representative forms of imagination
and thought built out of other forms, and those out of others
still, there arises someone to say, Become as little children;
go back to the mother heart of humanity, to this matrix of pure,
divining sensibility, and, newly born thence, become again liv.
ing souls. If that command be heeded, a new epoch arises, and
the wrinkled Tithonus obtains the blessing along with the gift
of immortality.
I do not intimate that woman should forbear attempting a lit-
erary career, nor that she is incapable of high excellence in such
labor. On the contrary, I think she can contribute to literature
work which in its own kind the other sex will scarcely be able to
equal, — can give us a literature of sentiment without sentiment-
ality, which would be a precious addition to the world's wealth
and resource. The religious lyric or hymn would well befit her;
and indeed the tenderest hymn in the English language, and
pure in tone as tender in feeling, was written by a woman,-
Nearer, my God, to Thee. ' The devotion of love has never
been expressed in our tongue as by Mrs. Browning in the Portu-
guese Sonnets”; a lady whose genius I value far above that of
her husband, though in the later years of her life she seemed
to have been bewitched by him, and fell to his jerky style, - a
sort of St. Vitus's dance with pen and ink. Mrs. Howe's 'Army
Hymn' was perhaps the most lyrical expression of devout feeling
brought forth by our war. The underlying excellence of Uncle
Tom was its pure appeal to sentiment: just this made it irre-
sistible. Uncle Tom himself is feminine to the core,-
a nun in
trousers. Miss Cobbe's Intuitive Morals) assumes the feminine
point of view by its very title: woman, by her very nature, must
believe in intuitive morals; and by bringing her own native
method to the treatment of this topic can render invaluable
service.
Personality in the pure sense is Spirit without individual limi-
tation. Woman by her very nature and genius inevitably affirms
Spirit. She holds the human race to that majestic confession.
Blindly, superstitiously she may do so; blindly and superstitiously
she will do so, while philosophy falsely so called has eyes to
stare only into the earth: but in this blindness there is vision,
and the superstition of belief need not be shamefaced before the
superstition of sciolism. But superstitious or otherwise, she has


## p. 15688 (#646) ##########################################

15688
DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
the master-key; and man can but bruise his hand against the
iron gate until he takes the key from hers. The metaphysic of
France and England is barren because it is purely masculine; it
dares not assume Spirit, this perennial import of feminine sensi-
bility. When we have yawned over it a century or two longer,
one may hope that we shall return to the starting-point, begin
with Personality or Spirit, and bringing masculine logic to the
service of feminine divination, attain to a philosophy.
All the charm of life is inseparable from a certain fine
reserve.
In the half-opened rosebud, at once displaying and con-
cealing its beauty, there is a fascination wanting to the full-
blown flower. The soft veil of purple haze that lies over the
Grecian landscape gives to it an enchantment scarcely conceivable
to one accustomed only to the starry aspect of scenery under
a perfectly clear air. What more enticing than a road wind.
ing and losing itself among woods? Inevitably the eye dwells
on that point where it disappears: for there the hard every-
day world ends and the world of imagination begins; beyond
that point, dryads lurk and fauns with cloven heel, with all the
enchanting dream-world of mythic antiquity.
Now, woman's existence is appointed to carry forever, and in
the highest degree, this inscrutable, inexhaustible charm. Indeed,
when this is gone she is no longer woman, but only a female
animal, or at least a somewhat feeble copy of man.
This pecul.
iar genius is symbolized by her spontaneous choice of concealing
draperies in dress. Mr. Winwood Reade remarks upon the pain-
ful disillusionment effected by the absence of costume among the
women of tropical Africa. The imagination is quite stared out
of countenance, he says, by the aspect of unclothed women; and
every trace of sexual attraction disappears. Without dress, love
loses its beauty, woman her exaltation, domestic life its spiritual
complexion; and the relation of the sexes becomes animal only.
I have seen among the Esquimaux what a sad disenchantment is
operated by the spectacle of woman in trousers. It is no longer
a wontan you behold, but only a lumpy, ugly, ill-gaited, ridiculous
Whenever the dress of the two sexes approximates closely,
woman is degraded; a curious fact that ought not to be disre-
garded. In Hindostan, the men are effeminate and the women
inferior: the dress of the two sexes is nearly the same. Only
courtesans there conceal the bosom; the charm of costume is left
to those who defile it: and in this fact alone a hint of the


## p. 15689 (#647) ##########################################

DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
15689
.
degradation of the sex is given to any who are sufficiently skilled
in interpretation.
It is therefore by a true instinct, though pushed to a destruct-
ive extent, that Mussulman women are forbidden to appear in
public unveiled. There the rosebud must always remain bound
in the green calyx, never expanding in the sunshine. This is
one of many instances to be found in history wherein sentiments
of great intrinsic delicacy develop themselves blindly and with a
kind of ferocity. What is sweeter than religion in Jesus? Yet
we all know what a fury, what a merciless edge, Christian senti-
ment has often shown. Faith in Mohammed was preached with
the scimitar, faith in Christ with the fagot and rack; and to this
day those who no longer employ those summary methods for the
propagation of “the faith” in this world pay themselves off by a
liberal supply of menace for the next.
But the sentiment from whose barbaric interpretation the
growing ages must release themselves, will guide the ages still.
Woman conserves for herself and for humanity that unsurpassed
priceless grace of which the veil is here made the symbol. A
nameless fascination leads the high labor of civilization: a name-
less charm sustains the dignity of life, which would lapse into
brutishness without it; and this charm hides chiefly behind the
native veil of womanhood. Athens was named for a feminine
divinity; the ideal woman was enthroned in the Parthenon, and
here in Greece told the fine secret of civilization. It requires
courage to say that woman's function is to charm; courage, for in
the meaning often given it the statement is pre-eminently silly.
Taken as signifying that the proper business of Araminta is
to bewitch Augustus, and bereave him of the little sense nature
gave him, it may be made over to the exclusive use of those
who speak because they have nothing to say. But it is the
business of woman to enshrine that grace which makes human
life nature's supreme work of art, and keeps the eye entranced,
and the heart kindled. Somewhere in life itself is the inspira-
tion and the reward of our labor; and in the exalted reserve
of woman, without design on her part, and aside from the ex-
press affection she may draw, lurks this finest resource of the
race.
The perennial interests of humanity may be classified as
public and private, outdoor and indoor: the former having more
breadth, the latter greater depth; the one catching the world's
eye, the other engaging its heart; that furnishing food, this giving


## p. 15690 (#648) ##########################################

15690
DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
fertility. The means of life, that by which we live, whether
as physical or as human beings; the instrumentalities of use,
from the plow to the university; the sustenance that we live
upon, from corn and wine to thought and philosophy,- belong
to the department of public interest: but the inward enrichment,
the digestion, the chemical conversion, the fructification of life,
all its subtler, deeper, immediately vital interests, belong to the
realm of privacy. Now, the "spheres of man and woman cor-
respond to these two classes of interests. Of course, the two
mingle in action very intimately. When some men invite woman
to stay indoors and mind her affairs there, she might reply by
inviting man, at dinner-time or evening, to stay out of doors and
mind his affairs there. Of course, too, each sex is concerned in
the work of the other. Woman shares in all public good or ill;
man, in all private. It certainly imports much to the husband
whether the children of his household are born healthy or sickly,
reared excellently or miserably; whether he is at home sur-
rounded by an atmosphere of peace, amenity, charity, and all
spiritual beauty, or with one of brawl, scandal, and tumbled dis-
array: and it equally imports much to the wife whether the hus-
band does his duty, whether he be industrious or a drone, faithful
and honorable, or the contrary, in all those concerns upon which
private competence and public peace descend. I here separate
these diverse interests only in respect to the sovereignty over
them. The sovereignty, the office, the endowment and creden-
tials of Nature are given to man and woman according to this
classification. Each works for the other, -it may probably, and
properly, be with a predominant regard for the other; for they
are polaric. Life has its uses only in relation. He does not
really live who lives only to and for himself. The plant grows
from the soil that feeds it. “What I give, I have. ”
-
SOCIAL TEXTURE
From “Essays: Religious, Social, Political? Copyright 1888, by Lee & Shepard
ll genesis is social. Every production, not of life only, but of
LL
Al ,
constitution of beings, objects, or elements.
Society, as we commonly speak, signifies relation between
conscious individuals. But it is obvious that every system of


## p. 15691 (#649) ##########################################

DAVID ATWOOD WASSON
15691
>
>
relation through which diverse objects, animate or inanimate, con-
cur to one effect, is of a like nature. Now, in such relation lies
the quickening of the world. Without it, nothing lives or moves;
without it the universe were dead. Illustrations of this truth are
to be seen on all sides: one cannot look but they are before the
eyes. As the seed germinates, and the tree grows, only by effect
of a society, so to speak, in which the sun, soil, air, and water
concur with the object itself; as chemical correlation is in the
grass of the field, in the soil that nourishes it, in the earths that
sustain the soil, in the rock of which earth is formed; as loco-
motion is possible only through a determinate mode of relation
between the active power of the mover (itself a product of rela-
tion) on the one hand, and the earth's attraction and resistance
on the other; as the flow of rivers and fall of rain are condi-
tioned upon the whole system of relations which effect the pro-
duction, distribution, and condensation of aqueous vapor; as the
powers of steam, of the lever, the pulley, the screw, are in like
manner conditioned, — so it is always and everywhere: a social
constitution of things, and order and play of relation, is required
for any and every generation of effect. In the crook of a finger
and the revolution of a world, in the fertilization of a pistil and
the genesis of a civilization, the same fact is signalized as the
fountain of all power. The birth, therefore, of the individual
from social relation is anything but anomalous or singular;
rather, it is in pursuance of a productive method from which
nature never departs.
For the method is continued in the production of those facul-
ties and qualities by virtue of which the individual is a human
creature. Relation between men is, in the order of nature, a
necessary means to the making of man. It is just as impossible
there should be a really human individual without a community
of men, with its genetic effect, as that there should be a com-
munity without individuals. By a man we do not mean merely
a biped animal conscious of its existence, but a speaking, think-
ing, and moral, or morally qualified, creature. Speech, thought,
and morals; — with these, there are human beings; without
them, none. But, one and all, they are possible to the individual
only through his relation with others of his kind.


## p. 15692 (#650) ##########################################

15692
JOHN WATSON
(1850-)
ohn Watson, whose widely familiar pen-name is lan Maclaren,
is a pure Scot, although he was born some forty-seven years
ago in Manningtree, Essex, where his father, who was en-
gaged in the Excise, happened to be stationed at the time. Shortly
after his birth the family removed to London, where they stayed
long enough for Dr. Watson to retain a distinct recollection of their
residence there. The formative years of his childhood were spent
however in Scotland, first at Perth and then at Stirling. He was an
only child, and his parents were both re-
markable personalities. To his mother's
influence and gifts are due much of her
son's equipment in life. She was Highland
and understood Gaelic, which she used to
say was the best language for love and for
anger. To the observant reader of the Bon-
nie Brier Bush it is needless to add that
Dr. Watson's mother died while he was still
a young man. In due time young Watson
went to the University of Edinburgh, where
he excelled in the classics and in philoso-
phy. He became secretary and afterwards
John WATSON president of the Philosophical Society con-
nected with the University.
When he had completed his studies he decided to enter the Free
Church of Scotland, and passed through the curriculum of the New
College. He also spent some time at Tübingen. Robert Louis Ste-
venson was a classmate of his in the English Literature class in the
University; and Dr. Watson remembers the occasional visits Ste-
venson made to the lass, and the round of cheers which invariably
greeted his entrance into the class-room. Dr. A. B. Davidson, the
well-known professor of Hebrew, made a deep impression on his
mind while at college; and he was greatly molded by the friendships
he formed there with such men as Dr. James Stalker, Professor Henry
Drummond, and Professor George Adam Smith. At the gatherings
of the “Gaiety Club » Dr. Watson used to tell, with the perfect art of
a consummate raconteur, the stories which have been woven into the
famous Drumtochty sketches. He says that the first author who



## p. 15693 (#651) ##########################################

JOHN WATSON
15693
made any impression on his mind was Scott, whom he read eagerly.
He studied the Waverley Novels, with their prefaces, introductions, and
notes, and became saturated with Scott's spirit. Another stage of his
development was marked by the influence of Carlyle, and still an-
other by that of Matthew Arnold. Browning and Arnold, and Seeley
the author of Ecce Homo,' have perhaps made the deepest innpres-
sion upon his intellectual and spiritual activity. Thackeray was a
later favorite.
For a short period about a year — after his ordination, he served
as assistant pastor to Dr. J. H. Wilson of the Barclay Church in
Edinburgh, before he became minister of the Free Church in Har-
rietfield, a small village consisting chiefly of one main street, belong-
ing to the estate of Logiealmond in Perthshire, and now far-famed as
Drumtochty; an uncle of his had been parish minister there at the
time of the Disruption in 1843. The work amongst this people of
primitive instincts, and simple fundamental needs, proved congenial;
and he made a close study of them with a half-formed intention of
using the material. But self-distrust and various plans intervening,
his literary sc mes were laid aside and were discarded, as the years
distanced him from these early scenes and experiences. His gifts as
a brilliant preacher could not be hid under a bushel; and two and a
half years were all that he was permitted to spend at Logiealmond.
Calls multiplied, and became insistent, until he ultimately accepted
one from St. Matthew's in Glasgow, where he became the colleague
of Dr. Samuel Miller, whose pulpit is now celebrated as that of Dr.
James Stalker.
But he found his true sphere, when, three years later, he became
minister of Sefton Park Presbyterian Church, Liverpool. This took
place in 1880; and Dr. Watson still remains the pastor of that church.
His liberal views and catholicity of thought, his geniality and bright,
winning disposition, have drawn to him men of all schools; and
young men especially find a haven in Sefton Park for their varied
intellectual cravings and aspirations. Dr. Watson's church is con-
stantly crowded by one of the largest and most influential congrega-
tions in Liverpool; and among the younger generation of English
preachers Dr. Watson holds a foremost place. He is a speaker of
extraordinary force and clearness. He mingles culture and devotion
with a strong sense of reverence and a deep-seated earnestness,
which enable him to wield immense power over great masses of
people. In 1896 the University of St. Andrew's conferred the degree
of D. D. upon him. In the same year he visited the United States,
delivered the Lyman Beecher Lectures at Yale, since published as
(The Mind of the Master,' and was heard throughout the country as
lecturer and reader from his own works,


## p. 15694 (#652) ##########################################

15694
JOHN WATSON
(
Dr. Watson's literary plans of early years, when his young, alert
mind was casting around for material to fasten upon for future de-
velopments, had been laid aside, and treated as dreams of a pre-
sumptuous youth. Up to 1894 he was quite unknown to the public
as an author; and yet, in little more than a year after the publication
of his first volume, Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush, the sales had
exceeded in England and America 200,000 copies.
Much curiosity prevailed in England while the stories were ap-
pearing serially in the British Weekly under the pen-name “lan
Maclaren” (Ian, Gaelic for John, and Maclaren, his mother's maiden
name); and not until a month after the book had been published,
was the author's identity discovered. A year later, another volume
of Drumtochty sketches, entitled “The Days of Auld Lang Syne,'
dealing with the same characters and scenes, was published with
similar success. A small volume of consecutive sermons, applicable
to the communion season, was issued at the beginning of 1896 under
the title “The Upper Room'; and a large volume of discourses on
practical religious themes, called The Mind of the Master,' appeared
in the spring of the same year.
In his first novel, Kate Carnegie,'
Dr. Watson is wise in keeping to Drumtochty, and introducing a
number of new characters, while bringing his readers into touch with
others pleasantly familiar. In the central character, the young min-
ister Carmichael, who figures already in His Mother's Sermon,' one
perceives a strong element of spiritual autobiography.
No real person, living or dead, has been drawn in these Drum-
tochty stories. When types have been suggested to the mind of the
author, they have been so idealized as to be beyond recognition in
the original.
Ian Maclaren differs from Mr. Barrie and Mr. Crockett in being
more of a sentimentalist. There is a deeper thrill of religious emo-
tion in his work; more of what Matthew Arnold, in his ignorance of
the depths of Scottish nature, termed «intolerable pathos. ” The
mission of the preacher is evident in his eclecticism; for while he
has chosen to subject himself to the difficulties in the way of han-
dling simple human nature in the rough, he has preferred the good,
the true, the noble, the suffering and sorrowing of his little commu-
nity. Indeed, as one critic declared, there is an insolence of security
in his attitude toward sorrow and death, which grates harshly when
brought into touch with reality. But this criticism is borne more by
his first than by his second volume, which is less spiritual and there-
fore more human, more real.
But Ian Maclaren's power unques-
tionably lies in his large sympathy and enthusiasm of humanity,
which is but another term for religious emotion. The transfiguring
touch in all his characters, commonplace in themselves, takes place


## p. 15695 (#653) ##########################################

JOHN WATSON
15695
nearer to
when the light of love and sacrifice falls upon them; (as when the
sun shines on a fallow field,”. to quote a passage of his own,-
“and the rough furrows melt into warmth and beauty. ” Then his
humor,— homely, strong, and flexible as the vernacular in which
much of it is clothed, — saves him on the whole from maudlin scenes,
and the excess of an essentially optimistic sentimentalism, as also
does his sturdy, shrewd common-sense. For pure and dry but not
ungenial drollery, there is nothing in the two volumes to match
Our Sermon Tasterand 'A Triumph in Diplomacy'; unless it be
parts of A Nippy Tongue,' where Ian Maclaren comes
Galt than any of his contemporaries, Mr. Barrie himself not excepted.
And it is the introduction of this perfect character, Jamie Soutar,
into A Servant Lass) which prevents it from becoming too depress-
ingly sad, and gives us Ian Maclaren at his best throughout one
whole story.
Popular favor however is not always guided by artistic principles;
and for obvious reasons the Doctor of the Old School' will prob-
ably continue to hold a first place, and in that section of the “Bon-
nie Brier Bush' the chapter entitled The Doctor's Last Journey'
will always stir the emotions most deeply. The pathos of the clos-
ing scenes is almost unbearable, and no Scotsman can read them
with a dry heart. A Doctor of the Old School' has been issued
in separate book form, with illustrations from drawings made at Drum-
tochty; and also contains a preface by the author.
A TRIUMPH IN DIPLOMACY
Reprinted by permission, from Days of Auld Lang Syne,) by lan Maclaren.
Copyright 1895, by John Watson and Dodd, Mead & Co.
ARMS
F
were held on lease in Drumtochty, and according to a
good old custom descended from father to son; so that some
of the farmers' forbears had been tenants as long as Lord
Kilspindie's ancestors had been owners. If a family died out,
then a successor from foreign parts had to be introduced; and
it was in this way Milton made his appearance, and scandalized
the Glen with a new religion. It happened also in our time that
Gormack, having quarreled with the factor about a feeding-byre
he wanted built, flung up his lease in a huff; and it was taken at
an enormous increase by a guileless tradesman from Muirtown,
who had made his money by selling pigs ” (crockery-ware), and
believed that agriculture came by inspiration. Optimists expected


## p. 15696 (#654) ##########################################

15696
JOHN WATSON
(
that his cash might last for two years, but pessimists declared
their belief that a year would see the end of the "merchant's ”
experiment; and Gormack watched the course of events from a
hired house at Kildrummie.
Jamie Soutar used to give him "a cry” on his way to the
station, and brought him the latest news.
"It's maybe juist as weel that ye retired frae business, Gor-
mack, for the auld fairm's that spruced up ye wud hardly ken it
wes the same place.
« The merchant's put ventilators intae the feedin' byre, and
he's speakin' aboot glass windows tae keep the stots frae weary-
in'; an' as for inventions, the place is fair scatted up wi' them.
There's ain that took me awfu’: it's for peelin' the neeps tae mak
them tasty for the cattle beasts.
“ Ye hed nae method, man; and a' dinna believe ye hed an
inspection a' the years ye were at Gormack. Noo, the merchant
is up at half eicht, and goes over the hale steadin' wi' Robbie
Duff at his heels, — him 'at he's got for idle grieve,- an' he tries
the corners wi' his handkerchief tae see that there's nae stoor
(dust).
"It wud dae ye gude tae see his library: the laist day I saw
him he wes readin' a book on Comparative Agriculture' afore
his door, and he explained hoo they grow the maize in Sooth
Ameriky: it wes verra interestin'; 'a never got as muckle in-
formation frae ony fairmer in Drumtochty. ”
"A'm gled ye cam in, Jamie,” was all Gormack said, "for I
wes near takin' this hoose on a three-year lease. Ae year 'ill be
eneuch noo, a'm thinkin'. "
Within eighteen months of his removal Gormack was again in
possession at the old rent, and with a rebate for the first year to
compensate him for the merchant's improvements.
“It 'ill tak the feck o'twa years," he explained in the kirk-
yard, "tae bring the place roond an' pit the auld face on it.
« “The byres are nae better than a pair o' fanners wi' wind,
and if he hesna planted the laighfield wi' berry bushes; an' a've
seen the barley fifty-five pund wecht in that very field.
"It's a doonricht sin tae abuse the land like yon, but it 'ill be
a lesson, neeburs, an'a'm no expeckin' anither pig merchant 'ill
get a fairm in Drumtochty. ”
This incident raised Gormack into a historical personage, and
invested him with an association of humor for the rest of his
(
((
1


## p. 15697 (#655) ##########################################

JOHN WATSON
15697
life; so that when conversation languished in the third, some one
would ask ormack what he hed dune wi' his ventilators, or
hoo the berry hairst wes shapin' this year. ”
One could not expect a comedy of this kind twice in a gen-
eration; but the arranging of a lease was always an event of
the first order in our commonwealth, and afforded fine play for
every resource of diplomacy. The two contracting parties were
the factor, who spent his days in defending his chief's property
from the predatory instincts of enterprising farmers, and knew
every move of the game, - a man of shrewd experience, imper-
turbable good-humor, and many wiles,-- and on the other side, a
farmer whose wits had been sharpened by the Shorter Catechism
since he was a boy; with the Glen as judges. Farms were not
put in the Advertiser on this estate, and thrown open to the
public from Dan to Beersheba; so that there was little risk of
the tenant losing his home. Neither did the adjustment of rent
give serious trouble; as the fair value of every farm — down to
the bit of hill above the arable land and the strips of natural
grass along the burns — was known to a pound. There were
skirmishes over the rent, of course; but the battle-ground was
the number of improvements which the tenant could wring from
the landlord at the making of the lease. Had a tenant been in
danger of eviction, then the Glen had risen in arms, as it did in
the case of Burnbrae; but this was a harmless trial of strength,
which the Glen watched with critical impartiality. The game
was played slowly between seedtime and harvest, and each move
was reported in the kirk-yard. Its value was appreciated at once;
and although there was greater satisfaction when a neighbor won,
yet any successful stroke of the factor's was keenly enjoyed, -
the beaten party himself conceding its cleverness. When the
factor so manipulated the conditions of draining Netherton's
meadow land that Netherton had to pay for the tiles, the kirk-
yard chuckled; and Netherton admitted next market that the
factor wes a lad,” - meaning a compliment to his sharpness, for
all things were fair in this war; and when Drumsheugh involved
the same factor in so many different and unconnected promises
of repairs that it was found cheaper in the end to build him a
new steading, the fathers had no bounds to their delight; and
Whinnie, who took an hour longer than any other man to get a
proper hold of anything, suddenly slapped his leg in the middle
of the sermon.
XXVI–982


## p. 15698 (#656) ##########################################

15698
JOHN WATSON
((
No genuine Scotchman ever thought the less of a neighbor
because he could drive a hard bargain; and any sign of weak-
ness in such encounters exposed a man to special contempt in
our community. No mercy was shown to one who did not pay
the last farthing when a bargain had been made, but there was
little respect for the man who did not secure the same farthing
when the bargain was being made. If a Drumtochty farmer had
allowed his potatoes to go to “Piggie Walker at that simple-
minded merchant's first offer, instead of keeping “Piggie all
day, and screwing him up ten shillings an acre every second
hour, we would have shaken our heads over him as if he had
been drinking; and the well-known fact that Drumsheugh had
worsted dealers from far and near at Muirtown market for a gen-
eration, was not his least solid claim on our respect. When Mrs.
Macfadyen allowed it to ooze out in the Kildrummie train that
she had obtained a penny above the market price for her butter,
she received a tribute of silent admiration, broken only by an
emphatic “ Sall” from Hillocks; while Drumsheugh expressed
himself freely on the way up:
“Elspeth's an able wumman: there's no a slack bit aboot her.
She wud get her meat frae among ither fouks’ feet. ”
There never lived a more modest or unassuming people; but
the horse couper that tried to play upon their simplicity did not
boast afterwards, and no one was known to grow rich on his deal-
ings with Drumtochty.
This genius for bargaining was of course seen to most advan-
tage in the affair of a lease; and a year ahead, long before lease
had been mentioned, a cannie ” man like Hillocks would be pre-
paring for the campaign. Broken panes of glass in the stable
were stuffed with straw after a very generous fashion; cracks in
a byre door were clouted over with large pieces of white wood;
rickety palings were ostentatiously supported; and the interior
of Hillocks's house suggested hard-working and cleanly poverty
struggling to cover the defects of a hovel. Neighbors dropping
in during those days found Hillocks wandering about with a
hammer, putting in a nail here and a nail there, or on the top
of the barn trying to make it water-tight before winter, with the
air of one stopping leaks in the hope of keeping the ship afloat
till she reaches port. But he made no complaint, and had an air
of forced cheerfulness.
"Na, na, yir no interruptin' me; a'm rael gled tae see ye; a'
wes juist doin' what a' cud tae keep things thegither.
C


## p. 15699 (#657) ##########################################

JOHN WATSON
15699
“An auld buildin's a sair trachle, an' yir feared tae meddle
wi' 't, for ye micht bring it doon aboot yir ears.
“But it's no reasonable tae expeck it tae last for ever: it's
dune weel and served its time; 'a mind it as snod a steadin' as
ye wud wish tae see, when 'a wes a laddie saxty year past.
“Come in tae the hoose, and we 'ill see what the gude wife
hes in her cupboard. Come what may, the 'ill aye be a drop for
a freend as lang as a 'm leevin.
“Dinna put yir hat there, for the plaister's been fallin', an' it
micht white it. Come ower here frae the window: it's no very
fast, and the wind comes in at the holes.