be formed that does not shrink by the
side of the reality. And so has he impressed himself upon the minds of
men, that no man can justly aspire to be the chief of a great free
people who does not adopt his principles and emulate his example. We
look with amazement on such eccentric characters as Alexander, Caesar,
Cromwell, Frederick, and Napoleon; but when the serene face of
Washington rises before us mankind instinctively exclaims, "This is the
Man for the nations to trust and reverence and for heroes and rulers to
copy."

Disinterested patriot, he would receive no pay for his military
services. Refusing gifts, he was glad to guide the benefaction of a
grateful state to educate the children of his fallen braves in the
institution at Lexington which yet bears his name. Without any of the
blemishes that mark the tyrant, he appealed so loftily to the virtuous
elements in man that he almost created the qualities of which his
country needed the exercise; and yet he was so magnanimous and
forbearing to the weaknesses of others, that he often obliterated the
vices of which he feared the consequence. But his virtue was more than
this. It was of that daring, intrepid kind that, seizing principle with
a giant's grasp, assumes responsibility at any hazard, suffers sacrifice
without pretense of martyrdom, bears calumny without reply, imposes
superior will and understanding on all around it, capitulates to no
unworthy triumph, but must carry all things at the point of clear and
blameless conscience. Scorning all manner of meanness and cowardice, his
bursts of wrath at their exhibition heighten our admiration for those
noble passions which were kindled by the inspirations and exigencies of
virtue.

Great in action as by the council board, the finest horseman and
knightliest figure of his time, he seemed designed by nature to lead in
those bold strokes which needs must come when the battle lies with a
single man--those critical moments of the campaign or the strife when,
if the mind hesitates or a nerve flinches, all is lost. We can never
forget the passage of the Delaware that black December night, amidst
shrieking winds and great upheaving blocks of ice which would have
petrified a leader of less hardy mold, and then the fell swoop at
Trenton. We behold him as when at Monmouth he turns back the retreating
lines, and galloping his white charger along the ranks until he falls,
leaps on his Arabian bay, and shouts to his men: "Stan