Witherspoon: A Name Etched in Marble, Yes, But He Had Heart Too

The Princeton area, and the grounds of the University in particular, are filled with regal

monuments. At the end of Nassau Street stands a triumphal assemblage of them to George Washington, marking his 1777 victory nearby. All around Nassau Hall, the University’s ivy-covered heart and historic epicenter we see tigers preserved in bronze, zealously guarding the ancient structure and institution.

Over the years, one monument in particular has always caught my eye. It looks ancient, but it’s not; it was installed in 2001. Located adjacent to the medieval-looking fortress that is Pyne Hall stands the majestic and completely appropriate bronze statue to the Rev. John Witherspoon, Princeton’s Revolutionary President, Educator and signer of the Declaration of Independence.

The value of such monuments is debatable, because while they certainly try to project an enduring, even ageless image of a person, in doing so they frequently deprive such subjects of their humanity. Sometimes this isn’t important, as in the case of the State of Liberty, but other times, it needs to be noted. In the case of the Witherspoon Monument, I’m bringing it up because if you accept the man asthat statue, you’ll never see the man that was. You’ll never understand the wonderful, warm, thoughtful leader he was,especially for his time (he died in 1794). He’s worth writing about because his contributions to the nation in general, and the Princeton area in particular, are interesting and worth recounting.

Witherspoon was not a military leader; he led no great armies to fierce victories. He never ruled any nations or established any banks. He never amassed a titanic fortune. He was an educator, a reverend and an observant writer and human being. It was Witherspoon who introduced the concepts of civil liberty and the thoughts of John Locke to students like James Madison, whowould, in fact, go on to lead the nation in war and peace.

As a scholar and educator, Witherspoon wrote for most of his adult life. The subjects of his writings vary dramatically, from the concept of liberty in the Magna Carta to theories of education to my favorite missive, Letters on Marriage. Written and published towards the end of his life, his three letters on this vital institution are filled with wit, wisdom, warmth and a progressiveness that was far ahead of his time.

Divided into three parts, it’s the first that has always impressed and moved me the most. There, out of the darkness of the late 18th century, in a time of absolute kings, hideous slavery and medical treatment that could only be described as barbaric, Witherspoon took the time to recognize the important elements that make wedlock work. And he didn’t write about it from the point of view of a man on a pedestal; rather, he wrote it as simple, straightforward advice. Why should marriage be honored? How do we set ourselves up, as single people, for disaster in marriage due to our silly preconceived notions? How does marriage change people? And why is a practical equality between the sexes so important – even central - in making this lifelong relationship work – and last?

How many articles and books, in this modern age, deal with these important questions? Interestingly enough, he begins his letter with this very thought in mind. What he has to offer, he tells readers, is the product of “real observation and personal reflection.” The words that follow are not, interestingly enough, filled with Biblical Quotes or Puritanical warnings of hellfire and Divine Fury. They’re just the advice of someone who has, to paraphrase his own words, been around the block a few times. Witherspoon had some mileage on him and his tire treads were wearing, so it was time to reflect, and reflect he did. 

The quality of the advice is impressive and thoughtful, and begins with a thorough denunciation of, dare I say, romance and beauty.

The great Princeton President, the educator of Founding Fathers and a man who put his life on the line by affixing his name to the Declaration of Independence warns us to stop putting so much value on good looks. In fact, he stipulates, from the point of view of a husband or wife, good looks constitute more or less of a misleading, bait-and-switch trap. In his experience, “fairness” in looks rarely if ever translated into any part of the essential skillset essential for people to get along. Literature and media, both then and now, are filled with beautiful faces frequently cast as heroes and objects to be desired. But aside from perhaps the Honeymoon night (yes, he wrote this), real strength and character is reflected in a person’s beliefs, practices and values. Want to know what qualities keep a marriage together? Not a pretty face…try industriousness, patience and a will to act…. the will to work.

Witherspoon also warns potential spouses of thinking that any marriage will amount to some sort of lifelong dream or ecstatic song. Rather, from a realistic point of view, it is a team effort, a united front in a world of challenges. Married people will have to be reasonable with each other, and deal with each other as equals. In short, marriage not a fantasy, it’s a real world partnership.  

This is where he gets really interesting. Witherspoon attacks the idea that a man who listens to his wife, who routinely turns to her for advice and comfort, is somehow “henpecked” (again, hiswords, not mine). In his experience, time and again he’s witnessed wives providing capable, calming advice – evenleadership - to nervous or uninformed husbands.

Overall, Witherspoon claims that marriage is good for the human condition. By forcing people to compromise and care for others, it compels them to moderate the most extreme attributes of their personalities. Marriage obliges humans to exercise that most “Christian” of principles: sharing. Yes, he concedes, marriage and childmaking begin with desire and lust, but the ultimate qualities of love, cooperation and sharing are what make the institution ultimately work, succeed and benefit for all involved.

Several centuries separate us from Witherspoon, but I’ve rarely gotten better advice from anyone on marriage or relationships, living or dead. I always keep this in mind when I look at that statue outside of Pyne Hall. It may accurately reflect his presence in history, but it’s his words that reflect his heart.