Dull men do not write in this fashion. It is one thing to pay a handsome compliment, although even that is not by itself easy, but to give it in addition the note of sincerity which alone makes it of real value demands both art and good feeling. Let us take one more example of this sort before we drop the subject. When the French officers were leaving America Washington wrote to De Chastellux to bid him farewell. "Our good friend, the Marquis of Lafayette," he said, "prepared me, long before I had the honor to see you, for those impressions of esteem which opportunities and your own benevolent mind have since improved into a deep and lasting friendship; a friendship which neither time nor distance can eradicate. I can truly say that never in my life have I parted with a man to whom my soul clave more sincerely than it did to you. My warmest wishes will attend you in your voyage across the Atlantic to the rewards of a generous prince, the arms of affectionate friends; and be assured that it will be one of my highest gratifications to keep up a regular intercourse with you by letter."

These letters exhibit not only the grace and point born of intelligence, but also the best of manners; by which I mean private manners, not those of the public man, of which there will be something to say hereafter. The attraction of Washington's society as a private gentleman lay in his good sense, breadth of knowledge, and good manners. Now the essence of good manners of the highest and most genuine kind is good feeling, which is thoughtful of others, and which is impossible to a cold, hard, or insensible nature. Such manners as we see in Washington's private letters and private life would have been strange offspring from the cold heart attributed to him by Mr. McMaster. In justice to Mr. McMaster, however, be it said, the charge is not a new one. It has been hinted at and spoken of elsewhere, and many persons have suspected that such was the case from the well-meant efforts of what may be called the cherry-tree school to elevate Washington's character by depicting him as a soulless, bloodless prig. The blundering efforts of the latter need not be noticed, but the reflections of serious critics cannot be passed by. The theory of the cold heart and the unfeeling nature seems to proceed in this wise. Washington was silent and reserved, he did not wear his heart upon his sleeve for daws to peck at, therefore he was cold; just as if mere noise and chatter had any relation to warm affections. He would take no salary from Congress, says Mr. McMaster, in fine antithesis, but he exacted his due from the family of the poor mason. This has an unpleasant sound, and suggests the man who is generous in public, and hard and grasping in private. Mr. McMaster in this sentence, however, whether intentionally or not, is not quite accurate in his facts, and conveys by his mode of statement an entirely false impression. The story to which he refers is given by Parkinson, who wrote a book about his experiences in America in 1798-1800. Parkinson had the story from one General Stone, and it was to this effect:[1] A room was plastered at Mount Vernon on one occasion, and was paid for during the owner's absence. When Washington returned he examined the work and had it measured, as was his habit. It then appeared that an error had been made, and that fifteen shillings too much had been paid. Meantime the plasterer had died. His widow married again, and her second husband advertised in the newspapers that he was prepared to pay the debts of his predecessor and collect all moneys due him. Thereupon Washington put in his claim, which was paid as a matter of course. He did not extort the debt from the family of the poor mason, but collected it from the second husband of the widow, in response to a voluntary advertisement. It was very careful and even close dealing, but it was neither harsh nor unjust, and the writer who has preserved the story would be not a little surprised at the interpretation that has been put upon it, for he cited it, as he expressly says, merely to illustrate the extraordinary regularity and method to which he attributed much of Washington's success.

George Washington, Vol. II — Part 169