In America's political domain, a similar evolution has been even more silently at work than in Britain during the past century, and is not yet exhausted--the transformation of a loose confederacy of sovereign states, with different laws, into one solid government, which assumes control and insures uniformity over one department after another. The centripetal forces grow stronger with the years; power leaves the individual states and drifts to Washington, as the necessity for each successive change becomes apparent. In the regulation of interstate commerce, of trusts, and in other fields, final authority over the whole land gravitates more and more to Washington. It is a beneficent movement, likely to result in uniform national laws upon many subjects in which present diversity creates confusion. Marriage and divorce laws, bankruptcy laws, corporation charter privileges, and many other important questions may be expected to become uniform under this evolutionary process. The Supreme Court decision that the Union was an indissoluble union of indissoluble states, carries with it finally uniform regulation of many interstate problems, in every respect salutary, and indispensable for the perfect union of the American people. CHAPTER IX WATT IN OLD AGE Watt gracefully glided into old age. This is the great test of success in life. To every stage a laurel, but to happy old age the crown. It was different with his friend Boulton, who continued to frequent the works and busy himself in affairs much as before, altho approaching his eightieth year. Watt could still occupy himself in his garret, where his "mind to him a Kingdom was," upon the scientific pursuits which charmed him. He revisited Paris in 1802 and renewed acquaintances with his old friends, with whom he spent five weeks. He frequently treated himself to tours throughout England, Scotland and Wales. In the latter country, he purchased a property which attracted him by its beauties, and which he greatly improved. It became at a later date, under his son, quite an extensive estate, much diversified, and not lacking altogether the stern grandeur of his native Scotland. He planted trees and took intense delight in his garden, being very fond of flowers. The farmhouse gave him a comfortable home upon his visits. The fine woods which now richly clothe the valley and agreeably diversify the river and mountain scenery were chiefly planted under his superintendence, many by his own hand. In short, the blood in his veins, the lessons of his childhood that made him a "child of the mist," happy in roaming among the hills, reasserted their power in old age as the Celtic element powerfully does. He turned more and more to nature. "That never yet betrayed the heart that loved her--" We see him strolling through his woods, and imagine him crooning to himself from that marvellous memory that forgot no gem: