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have had to pay few of the penalties which in old countries are exacted by the dead hand of a bygone civilization. We have not been obliged to fight for our existence against any alien race; and yet our life has called for the vigor and effort without which the manlier and hardier virtues wither away. Under such conditions it would be our

cause of their partizan service, and these men must not only administer impartial justice to the natives and serve their own government with honesty and fidelity, but must show the utmost tact and firmness, remembering that, with such people as those with whom we are to deal, weakness is the greatest of crimes, and that next to weakness comes lack of consideration 10 own fault if we failed; and the sucfor their principles and prejudices.

I preach to you, then, my countrymen, that our country calls not for the life of ease but for the life of strenuous endeavor. The twentieth century looms before us big with the fate of many nations. If we stand idly by, if we seek merely swollen, slothful ease and ignoble peace, if we shrink from the hard contests where men must win at 20 hazard of their lives and at the risk of all they hold dear, then the bolder and stronger peoples will pass us by, and will win for themselves the domination of the world. Let us therefore boldly face the life of strife, resolute to do our duty well and manfully; resolute to uphold righteousness by deed and by word; resolute to be both honest and brave, to serve high ideals, yet to use practical methods. Above all, let us shrink from no strife, moral or physical, within or without the nation, provided we are certain that the strife is justified; for it is only through strife, through hard and dangerous endeavor, that we shall ultimately win the goal of true national greatness.

INAUGURAL ADDRESS,
MARCH 4, 1905

30

cess which we have had in the past, the success which we confidently believe the future will bring, should cause in us no feeling of vainglory, but rather a deep and abiding realization of all which life has offered us; a full acknowledgment of the responsibility which is ours; and a fixed determination to show that under a free government a mighty people can thrive best, alike as regards the things of the body and the things of the soul.

Much has been given to us, and much will rightfully be expected from us. We have duties to others and duties to ourselves; and we can shirk neither. We have become a great nation, forced by the fact of its greatness into relations with the other nations of the earth; and we must behave as beseems a people with such responsibilities. Toward all other nations, large and small, our attitude must be one of cordial and sincere friendship. We must show not only in our words but in our deeds that we are earnestly desirous of securing their good will by acting toward them in a spirit of just and generous recognition of all their rights. 40 But justice and generosity in a nation, as in an individual, count most when shown not by the weak but by the strong. While ever careful to refrain from wronging others, we must be no less insistent that we are not wronged ourselves. We wish peace; but we wish the peace of justice, the peace of righteousness. We wish it because we think it is right and not because we are afraid. No weak nation that acts manfully and justly should ever have cause to fear us, and no strong power should ever be able to single us out as a subject for insolent aggression.

No people on earth have more cause to be thankful than ours, and this is said reverently, in no spirit of boastfulness in our own strength, but with gratitude to the Giver of Good, who has blessed us with the conditions which have enabled us to achieve so large a measure of well-being and of happi- 50 ness. To us as a people it has been granted to lay the foundations of our national life in a new continent. We are the heirs of the ages, and yet we

Our relations with the other Powers of the world are important; but still more important are our relations among ourselves. Such growth in wealth, in population, and in power as this nation has seen during the century and a quarter of its national life is inevitably accompanied by a like growth in the problems which are ever before every nation that rises to greatness. Power 10 invariably means both responsibility and danger. Our forefathers faced certain perils which we have outgrown. We now face other perils, the very existence of which it was impossible that they should foresee. Modern life is both complex and intense, and the tremendous changes wrought by the extraordinary industrial development of the last half century are felt in every 20 fiber of our social and political being. Never before have men tried so vast and formidable an experiment as that of administering the affairs of a continent under the form of a democratic republic. The conditions which have told for our marvelous material wellbeing, which have developed to a very high degree our energy, self-reliance, and individual initiative, have also 30 brought the care and anxiety inseparable from the accumulation of great wealth in industrial centers. Upon the success of our experiment much depends; not only as regards our own welfare, but as regards the welfare of mankind. If we fail, the cause of free self-government throughout the world. will rock to its foundations; and therefore our responsibility is heavy, to our 40 selves, to the world as it is today, and to the generations yet unborn. There is no good reason why we should fear the future, but there is every reason why we should face it seriously, neither hiding from ourselves the gravity of the problems before us nor fearing to approach these problems with the unbending, unflinching, purpose to solve them aright.

Yet, after all, though the problems are new, though the tasks set before us differ from the tasks set before our fathers who founded and preserved the

Republic, the spirit in which these tasks must be undertaken and these problems faced, if our duty is to be well done, remains essentially unchanged. We know that self-government is difficult. We know that no people needs such high traits of character as that people which seeks to govern its affairs aright through the freely expressed will of the freemen who compose it. But we have faith that we shall not prove false to the memories of the men of the mighty past. They did their work, they left us the splendid heritage we now enjoy. We in our turn have an assured confidence that we shall be able to leave this heritage unwasted and enlarged to our children and our children's children. To do so we must show, not merely in great crises, but in the everyday affairs of life, the qualities of practical intelligence, of courage, of hardihood and endurance, and above all the power of devotion to a lofty ideal, which made great the men who founded this Republic in the days of Washington, which made great the men who preserved this Republic in the days of Abraham Lincoln.

HENRY ADAMS (1838-1918)

MONT-SAINT-MICHEL AND CHARTRES1

From CHAPTER VIII

THE TWELFTH-CENTURY GLASS

At last we are face to face with the crowning glory of Chartres. Other churches have glass,-quantities of it, and very fine, but we have been trying to catch a glimpse of the glory which stands behind the glass of Chartres, and gives it quality and feeling of its own. For once the architect is useless and his explanations are pitiable; the painter helps still less; and 50 the decorator, unless he works in glass, is the poorest guide of all, while if he

1 Copyright, 1905, by Henry Adams. Reprinted by permission of Houghton Mifflin Company.

works in glass, he is sure to lead wrong; and all of them may toil until Pierre Mauclerc's stone Christ comes to life, and condemns them among the unpardonable sinners on the southern portal, but neither they nor any other artist will ever create another Chartres. You had better stop here, once for all, unless you are willing to feel that Chartres was made what it is, not by 10 the artist, but by the Virgin.

If this imperial presence is stamped on the architecture and the sculpture with an energy not to be mistaken, it radiates through the glass with a light and color that actually blind the true servant of Mary. One becomes, sometimes, a little incoherent in talking about it; one is ashamed to be as extravagant as one wants to be; one has 20 no business to labor painfully to explain and prove to one's self what is as clear as the sun in the sky; one loses temper in reasoning about what can only be felt, and what ought to be felt instantly, as it was in the twelfth century, even by the truie qui file and the ane qui vielle. Any one should feel it that wishes; any one who does not wish to feel it can let it alone. Still, it may 30 be that not one tourist in a hundredperhaps not one in a thousand of the English-speaking race-does feel it, or can feel it even when explained to him, for we have lost many senses. . .

bear comparison with it, and which no other heavenly majesty has rivalled. As one watches the light play on it, one is still overcome by the glories of the jewelled rose and its three gemmed pendants; one feels a little of the effect she meant it to produce even on infidels, Moors, and heretics, but infinitely more on the men and women who adored her;-not to dwell too long upon it, one admits that hers is the only Church. One would admit anything that she should require. If you had only the soul of a shrimp, you would crawl, like the Abbé Suger, to kiss her feet.

Unfortunately she is gone, or comes here now so rarely that we never shall see her; but her genius remains as individual here as the genius of Blanche of Castile and Pierre de Dreux in the transepts. That the three lancets were her own taste, as distinctly as the Trianon was the taste of Louis XIV, is self-evident. They represent all that was dearest to her; her Son's glory on her right; her own beautiful life in the middle; her royal ancestry on her left: the story of her divine right, thricetold. The pictures are all personal, like family portraits. Above them the man who worked in 1200 to carry out the harmony, and to satisfy the Virgin's wishes, has filled his rose with a dozen or two little compositions in glass, which reveal their subjects only to the best powers of a binocle. Looking carefully, one discovers at last that this gorgeous combination of all the hues

No artist would have ventured to put up, before the eyes of Mary in Majesty, above the windows so dear to her, any object that she had not herself commanded. Whether a miracle was neces- 40 of Paradise contains or hides a Last sary, or whether genius was enough, is a point of casuistry which you can settle with Albertus Magnus or Saint Bernard, and which you will understand as little when settled as before; but for us, beyond the futilities of unnecessary doubt, the Virgin designed this rose; not perhaps in quite the same perfect spirit in which she designed the lancets, but still wholly for her own 50 pleasure and as her own idea. She placed upon the breast of her Church -which symbolized herself-a jewel so gorgeous that no earthly majesty could

Judgment-the one subject carefully excluded from the old work, and probably not existing on the south portal for another twenty years. If the scheme of the western rose dates from 1200, as is reasonable to suppose, this Last Judgment is the oldest in the church, and makes a link between the theology of the first crusade, beneath, and the theology of Pierre Mauclerc in the south porch. The churchman is the only true and final judge on his own doctrine, and we neither know nor care to know the facts; but we are as good

judges as he of the feeling, and we are
at full liberty to feel that such a Last
Judgment as this was never seen be-
fore or since by churchman or heretic,
unless by virtue of the heresy which
held that the true Christian must be
happy in being damned since such is
the will of God. That this blaze of
heavenly light was intended, either by
the Virgin or by her workmen, to con- 10
vey ideas of terror or pain, is a notion
which the Church might possibly
preach, but which we sinners knew to
be false in the thirteenth century as
well as we know it now. Never in all
these seven hundred years has one of
us looked up at this rose without feel-
ing it to be Our Lady's promise of
Paradise.

Here as everywhere else throughout 20
the church, one feels the Virgin's pres-
ence, with no other thought than her
majesty and grace. To the Virgin and
to her suppliants, as to us, who though
outcasts in other churches can still hope
in hers, the Last Judgment was not a
symbol of God's justice or man's cor-
ruption, but of her own infinite mercy.
The Trinity judged, through Christ;-
Christ loved and pardoned, through her. 30
She wielded the last and highest power
on earth and in hell. In the glow and
beauty of her nature, the light of her
Son's infinite love shone as the sun-
light through the glass, turning the Last
Judgment itself into the highest proof
of her divine and supreme authority.
The rudest ruffian of the Middle Ages,
when he looked at this Last Judgment,
laughed; for what was the Last Judg- 40
ment to her! An ornament, a play-
thing, a pleasure! a jewelled decoration
which she wore on her breast! Her
chief joy was to pardon; her eternal
instinct was to love; her deepest pas-
sion was pity! On her imperial heart
the flames of hell showed only the
opaline colours of heaven. Christ the
Trinity might judge as much as He
pleased, but Christ the Mother would 50
rescue; and her servants could look
boldly into the flames.

If you, or even our friends the priests who still serve Mary's shrine, suspect

that there is some exaggeration in this language, it will only oblige you to admit presently that there is none; but for the moment we are busy with glass rather than with faith, and there is a world of glass here still to study. Technically, we are done with it. The technique of the thirteenth century comes naturally and only too easily out of that of the twelfth. Artistically, the motive remains the same, since it is always the Virgin; but although the Virgin of Chartres is always the Virgin of Majesty, there are degrees in the assertion of her majesty even here, which effect the art and qualify its feeling. Before stepping down to the thirteenth century, one should look at these changes of the Virgin's royal presence.

First and most important as record is the Stone Virgin on the south door of the western portal, which we studied, with her Byzantine Court; and the second, also in stone, is of the same period, on one of the carved capitals of the portal, representing the Adoration of the Magi. The third is the glass Virgin at the top of the central lancet. All three are undoubted twelfth-century work; and you can see another at Paris, on the same door of Notre Dame, and still more on Abbé Suger's window at Saint-Denis, and, later, within a beautiful grisaille at Auxerre; but all represent the same figure; a Queen, enthroned, crowned, with the symbols of royal power, holding in her lap the infant King whose guardian she is. Without pretending to know what special crown she bears, we can assume, till corrected, that it is the Carlovingian imperial, not the Byzantine. The Trinity nowhere appears except as implied in the Christ. At the utmost, a mystic hand may symbolize the Father. The Virgin as represented by the artists of the twelfth century in the Ile de France and at Chartres seems to be wholly French in spite of the Greek atmosphere of her workmanship. One might almost insist that she is blonde, full in face, large in figure, dazzlingly beautiful, and not more than

thirty years of age. The child never seems to be more than five.

who surround and bear up her throne, they assert no authority. The window itself is not a single composition; the panels below seem inserted later merely to fill up the space; six represent the Marriage of Cana, and the three at the bottom show a grotesque little demon tempting Christ in the Desert. The effect of the whole, in this angle which

You are equally free to see a Southern or Eastern type in her face, and perhaps the glass suggests a dark type, but the face of the Virgin on the central lancet is a fourteenth-century restoration which may or may not reproduce the original, while all the other Virgins represented in the glass, except 10 is almost always dark or filled with

one, belong to the thirteenth century.
The possible exception is a well-known
figure called Notre-Dame-de-la-Belle-
Verrière in the choir next the south
transept. A strange, almost uncanny
feeling seems to haunt this window,
heightened by the veneration in which
it was long held as a shrine, though it
is now deserted for Notre-Dame-du-
Pilier on the opposite side of the choir. 20
The charm is partly due to the beauty
of the scheme of the angels, support-
ing, saluting, and incensing the Virgin
and Child with singular grace and ex-
quisite feeling, but rather that of the
thirteenth than of the twelfth century.
Here too the face of the Virgin is not
ancient. Apparently the original glass
was injured by time or accident, and
the colors were covered or renewed by 30
a simple drawing in oil. Elsewhere the
color is thought to be particularly good,
and the window is a favorite mine of
motives for artists to exploit; but to us
its chief interest is its singular depth
of feeling. The Empress Mother sits
full-face, on a rich throne and dais,
with the Child on her lap repeating her
attitude, except that her hands support
His shoulders. She wears her crown; 40
her feet rest on a stool, and both stool,
rug, robe, and throne are as rich as
color and decoration can make them.
At last a dove appears, with the rays
of the Holy Ghost. Imperial as the
Virgin is, it is no longer quite the un-
limited empire of the western lancet.
The aureole encircles her head only; she
holds no sceptre; the Holy Ghost
seems to give her support which she 50
did not need before, while Saint Gabriel
and Saint Michael, her archangels, with
their symbols of power, have disap-
peared. Exquisite as the angels are

shadow, is deep and sad, as though the Empress felt her authority fail, and had come down from the western portal to reproach us for neglect. The face is haunting. Perhaps its force may be due to nearness, for this is the only instance in glass of her descending so low that we can almost touch her, and see what the twelfth century instinctively felt in the features which, even in their beatitude, were serious and almost sad under the austere responsibilities of infinite pity and power.

No doubt the window is very old, or perhaps an imitation or reproduction of one which was much older; but to the pilgrim its interest lies mostly in its personality, and there it stands alone. Although the Virgin reappears again and again in the lower windows, -as in those on either side of the BelleVerrière; in the remnant of window representing her miracles at Chartres, in the south aisle next the transept; in the fifteenth century window of the chapel of Vendôme which follows; and in the third window which follows that of Vendôme and represents her coronation, she does not show herself again in all her majesty till we look up to the high windows above. There we shall find her in her splendor on her throne, above the high altar, and still more conspicuously in the Rose of France in the north transept. Still again she is enthroned in the first window of the choir next the north transept. Elsewhere we can see her standing, but never does she come down to us in the full splendor of her presence. Yet wherever we find her at Chartres, and of whatever period, she is always Queen. Her expression and attitude are always calm and commanding.

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