characteristics as a soldier were farseeing judgment and circumspection,
a certain long-headedness, as it might be called, and astonishing
ability to recover from and ignore a defeat. In his pitched battles,
like Long Island and Brandywine, he knew that defeat was probable, and
he prepared for it.[9]

He was compelled to act so much on the defensive, and the British
methods were so slow, that his activities in the field were not numerous
when we consider that he was in command for seven years. The greater
part of his time and energy was employed in building up the cause by
mild, balanced, but wonderfully effective arguments; reconciling
animosities by tactful precautions; and by the confidence his
personality inspired preventing the army from disbanding. A large part
of this labor was put forth in writing letters of wonderful beauty and
perfection in the literary art, when we consider the end they were to
accomplish. Complete editions of his writings of this sort usually fill
a dozen or more large volumes; and there have been few if any great
generals of the world who have accomplished so much by writing, or who
have been such consummate masters of language.

Sufficient care has not always been taken to distinguish between the
different periods of his life. He aged rapidly at the close of the
Revolution; his reserved manner and a certain "asperity of temper," as
Hamilton called it, greatly increased; and some years afterwards, when
President, he had become a very silent and stiffly formal man, far
different from the young soldier who, in the prime of life, drew his
sword beneath the old elm at Cambridge to take command of the patriot
army.

The Virginians of his time appear to have had occupations and social