weakness to the enemy (though I believe they are pretty well informed of
everything that passes), by telling this and that man, who are daily
pointing out this, and that, and t' other place, of all the motives that
govern my actions; notwithstanding I know what will be the consequence
of not doing it,--namely, that I shall be accused of inattention to the
public service, and perhaps of want of spirit to prosecute it. But this
shall have no effect upon my conduct. I will steadily (as far as my
judgment will assist me) pursue such measures as I think conducive to
the interest of the cause, and rest satisfied under any obloquy that
shall be thrown, conscious of having discharged my duty to the best of
my abilities."

The above passage, like every other passage that could be quoted from
his pen, is characteristic of Washington, and entirely in keeping with
the calm elevation of his soul. Yet how imperfect a glimpse do we
obtain of him, through the medium of this, or any of his letters! We
imagine him writing calmly, with a hand that never falters; his majestic
face neither darkens nor gleams with any momentary ebullition of
feeling, or irregularity of thought; and thus flows forth an expression
precisely to the extent of his purpose, no more, no less. Thus much we
may conceive. But still we have not grasped the man; we have caught no
glimpse of his interior; we have not detected his personality. It is
the same with all the recorded traits of his daily life. The collection
of them, by different observers, seems sufficiently abundant, and
strictly harmonizes with itself, yet never brings us into intimate
relationship with the hero, nor makes us feel the warmth and the human
throb of his heart. What can be the reason? Is it, that his great
nature was adapted to stand in relation to his country, as man stands
towards man, but could not individualize itself in brotherhood to an
individual?