The Olneyville tribune. (Providence, R.I.) 1893-189?, 1894-08-25
WASHINGTON MONUMENT.
One Of the Most Impressive Offsets
in the World.

w tUS
Marion Crawford reads lecture TO
those unpatriotic Americans who de-
cry the city of Washington and its
society, in an article which he con-
tributes TO the Century. He himself,
fresh from all the charms Of the Old
World. admires the city immensely.
He writes Of Washington as
Spectacle, and A. Castaigne draws
some characteristic pictures to ac-
company the article. AS to the much
discussed Washington monument,
Mr.. Crawford says:
A famous living sculptor of ours
has given Us his opinion in condem-
nation of the Washington monument.
1t is sometimes called the Obellsk,
for the comparatively simple reason
that it is one, just as they called
him Peter, people said, because it
was his name" With all due respect
to the sculptor's right of judgement,
which is unquestioned, we may differ
with him, and yet not brand ourselves
barbarians. To the present writer it
seems not too much to say that in
certain light the Obelisk is the most
imposing simple object of great di-
mensions in the whole world.
Doubtless when seen, as it always
can be seen by day, from a distance
of two or three miles and from differ
ent parts of the city, cut off by line
of modern roofs across pale sky,
there is nothing remarkable or beau
tiful about it. 1t is then but the top
of an obelisk, and nothing more;
slender straight line Of stone visible
in an uninteresting atmosphere.
Even then it can hardly be said to be
offensive, for it is too simple to
offend.
Go to it at evening, when the sun
set lights have faded and the full
moon is rising. IL is impossible not
to see it's beauty then. For some
reason not Immediately apparent the
white light is not reflected from the
lower half of it when the moon is not
far above the horizon. The lines are
all there, but the shaft is only soft
shadow below, gradually growing
clearer as it rises, and ending in
blaze of silver against the dark sky.
The enormous proportions are touch
ed then with profound mystery;
the solidity of the symbol disappears,
the greatness of the thought remains,
the unending vastness of the idea is
overwhelming. Block upon block,
line by line, it was built up with
granite from many States, a union of
many into one simple whole, true
symbol of what we Americans are
trying to make Of ourselves, of our
country, and Of our beliefs. There
is the solid foundation, proved and
tried, which we know of and trust in.
There is the dark and shadowy pres
ent, through which the grand straight
lines are felt rather than seen. And
there, high in the still air, points the
cleaning future, perfect at all points,
bright at all points, lofty as all but
heaven itself. There is the symbol.
We may ask Of ourselves whether we
are to overtake the shadows and
reach the light, we or our children,
or our children children or whether
the half-darkness will creep up with
us always, and with them, for ages
10 come, anu even 10 the emu.
The Obelisk is beautiful not only
by moonlight, as any one may see
who will take the trouble to look at
it with eyes human rather than
critical-at evening, for instance,
from the terrace of the Capitol, when
all the world is sinking towards its
mighty plunge into darkness through
the foam of the cloud-breakers and
the purple wash of nights rising tide;
or at early morning, when the dark
ness sinks back and the first blush Of
day swarms the pinnacle of the lone
ly shaft-as though it had stabbed
night in the sky and drawn the sweet
blood of daylight upon its point.
Most notably is it beautiful at such
times when seen with the whole city
from the great military cemetery on
the heights of Arlington, than which
few points in the world command a
more lovely view.
There in the quiet earth the solemn
dead lie side by side, the many who
fought for us when we were but little
children. and who, for ours, will tight
their immortal battles again in the
clouds like the warriors of old. Many
of us have heroes of our own name
and race lying there in the broad
tree-hemmed meadows, and among
the flowers, and in that chosen iank
where the great generals lie, as they
fought in the forefront of the enemy,
facing now not enemies but friends,
the deep sweet valley with the quiet
river at their feet. And far away.
beside the airy dome of the Capitol,
the single shaft rises sunward, and
tells in shadow-time for us, the liv-
ing. the hours of the dead mems end