hout her own consent; and secondly,
because I know it is to no purpose to advise her to refrain when she
has obtained it. A woman very rarely asks an opinion or requires
advice on such an occasion till her resolution is formed; and then it
is with the hope and expectation of obtaining a sanction, not that she
means to be governed by your disapprobation, that she applies. In a
word, the plain English of the application may be summed up in these
words: 'I wish you to think as I do; but if unhappily you differ from
me in opinion, my heart, I must confess, is fixed, and I have gone too
far _now_ to retract.'"

In the same spirit, but this time with a lurking smile at himself,
did he write to the secretary of Congress for his commission: "If my
commission is not necessary for the files of Congress, I should be
glad to have it deposited among my own papers. It may serve _my
grandchildren_, some fifty or a hundred years hence, for a theme to
ruminate upon, if _they_ should be contemplatively disposed."

He knew human nature well, and had a smile for its little weaknesses
when they came to his mind. It was this same human sympathy which made
him also love amusements of all sorts; but he was as little their
slave as their enemy. No man ever carried great burdens with a higher
or more serious spirit, but his cares never made him forbidding, nor
rendered him impatient of the pleasure of others. He liked to amuse
himself, and knew the value of a change of thought and scene, and he
was always ready, when duty permitted, for a chat. He liked to take a
comfortable seat and have his talk out, and he had the talent so rare
in great men of being a good and appreciative listener. We hear of him
playing cards at Tappan during the war, and he was always fond of a
game in the evening, realizing the force of Talleyrand's remark to the
despiser of cards: "Quelle triste vieillesse vous vous preparez." In
1779 it is recorded that at a party he danced for three hours with
Mrs. Greene without sitting down or resting, which speaks well for
the health and spirits both of the lady and the gentleman. Even after
Yorktown, he was ready to walk a minuet at a ball, and to the end
he liked to see young people dance, as he had danced himself in his
youth. As has been seen from his treatment of Bernard, he liked the
theatre and the actors, and when he was in Philadelphia he was a
constant attendant at the play, as he had been ever since he went to
see "Geo