Washington loved the simple life of home and countryside, of
friend and neighbor, of master and servant. “To make and sell a
little flour annually,” he wrote, “to repair houses going fast
to ruin, to build one for the security of my papers of a public
nature, will constitute employment for the few years I have to
remain on this terrestrial globe.” But he was still ready for
the summons of duty, whether it was to put his shoulder to the
wheel of a stranger’s broken-down carriage on the roadside, to
serve on the petty jury of his country, or to accept command of
the army preparing to meet the French. Washington would never
have identified effective citizenship with prominence. The
citizen who was never mentioned in the news-letters might be
quite as great as the general and President. At Ipswich, Mass.,
on one occasion, Mr. Cleaveland, the minister of the town, was
presented to him. As he approached, hat in hand, Washington
said, “Put on your hat, parson, and I will shake hands with
you.” “I can not wear my hat in your presence, general,” said
the minister, “when I think of what you have done for this
country.” “You did as much as I,” said Washington. “No, no,”
protested the parson. “Yes,” said Washington, “you did what
you could, and I have done no more.”--A. MACCOLL,
_Northwestern Christian Advocate_.
(1816)
=Life, The Whole, the Test of Character=--See CHARACTER, UNSEEN
PLACES IN.