River, every summer zephyr that whispered through the porches of
the Morristown farm-houses charged as a stiff breeze upon the
swinging half doors and windows of the "Ford Mansion"; every wintry
wind became a gale that threatened its security. The sentry who
paced before its front porch knew from experience when to linger
under its lee, and adjust his threadbare outer coat to the bitter
north wind.

Within the house something of this cheerlessness prevailed. It had
an ascetic gloom, which the scant firelight of the reception-room,
and the dying embers on the dining-room hearth, failed to
dissipate. The central hall was broad, and furnished plainly with
a few rush-bottomed chairs, on one of which half dozed a black
body-servant of the commander-in-chief. Two officers in the
dining-room, drawn close by the chimney-corner, chatted in
undertones, as if mindful that the door of the drawing-room was
open, and their voices might break in upon its sacred privacy. The
swinging light in the hall partly illuminated it, or rather glanced
gloomily from the black polished furniture, the lustreless chairs,
the quaint cabinet, the silent spinet, the skeleton-legged centre-
table, and finally upon the motionless figure of a man seated by
the fire.

It was a figure since so well known to the civilized world, since
so celebrated in print and painting, as to need no description
here. Its rare combination of gentle dignity with profound force,
of a set resoluteness of purpose with a philosophical patience,
have been so frequently delivered to a people not particularly
remarkable for these qualities, that I fear it has too often
provoked a spirit of playful aggression, in which the deeper