careful journal that there are 844,800 seeds of "New River Grass"
to the pound Troy and so determining how many should be sown to
the acre. Not many youths would write out as did Washington,
apparently from French sources, and read and reread elaborate
"Rules of Civility and Decent Behaviour in Company and
Conversation." In the fashion of the age of Chesterfield they
portray the perfect gentleman. He is always to remember the
presence of others and not to move, read, or speak without
considering what may be due to them. In the true spirit of the
time he is to learn to defer to persons of superior quality.
Tactless laughter at his own wit, jests that have a sting of idle
gossip, are to be avoided. Reproof is to be given not in anger
but in a sweet and mild temper. The rules descend even to manners
at table and are a revelation of care in self-discipline. We
might imagine Oliver Cromwell drawing up such rules, but not
Napoleon or Wellington.

The class to which Washington belonged prided itself on good
birth and good breeding. We picture him as austere, but, like
Oliver Cromwell, whom in some respects he resembles, he was very
human in his personal relations. He liked a glass of wine. He was
fond of dancing and he went to the theater, even on Sunday. He
was, too, something of a lady's man; "He can be downright
impudent sometimes," wrote a Southern lady, "such impudence,
Fanny, as you and I like." In old age he loved to have the young
and gay about him. He could break into furious oaths and no one
was a better master of what we may call honorable guile in
dealing with wily savages, in circulating falsehoods that would
deceive the enemy in time of war, or in pursuing a business
advantage. He played cards for money and carefully entered loss