During his whole life, Washington was rather spare than fleshy. Most
of his portraits, it is said, give to his person a fullness that it
did not have. He once said that the best weight of his best days
never exceeded two hundred and twenty pounds. His chest was broad but
not well rounded. His arms and his legs were long, large, and sinewy.
His feet and his hands were especially large. Lafayette, who aided us
in the Revolution, once said to a friend, "I never saw so large a
hand on any human being, as the general's."

Washington's eyes were of a light, grayish blue, and were so deep
sunken that they gave him an unusually serious expression. On being
asked why he painted these eyes of a deeper blue than life, the
artist said, "In a hundred years they will have faded to the right
{64} color." This painting, by Stuart, of the bust of Washington, is
said to be wonderfully true to life.

Many stories are told of the mighty power of Washington's right arm.
It is said that he once threw a stone from the bed of the stream to
the top of the Natural Bridge, in Virginia. Again, we are told that
once upon a time he rounded a piece of slate to the size of a silver
dollar, and threw it across the Rappahannock at Fredericksburg, the
slate falling at least thirty feet on the other side. Many strong men
have since tried the same feat, but have never cleared the water.

Peale, who was called the soldier artist, was once visiting
Washington at Mount Vernon. One day, he tells us, some athletic young
men were pitching the iron bar in the presence of their host.
Suddenly, without taking off his coat, Washington grasped the bar and
hurled it, with little effort, much farther than any of them had
done. "We were indeed amazed," said one of the young men, "as we
stood round, all stripped to the buff, and having thought ourselves
very clever fellows, while the colonel, on retiring, pleasantly said,
'When you beat my pitch, young gentlemen, I'll try again.'"

At another time, Washington witnessed a wrestling match. The champion
of the day challenged him, in sport, to wrestle. Washington did not
stop to take off his coat, but grasped the "strong man of Virginia."
{65} It was all over in a moment, for, said the wrestler, "in
Washington's lionlike grasp, I became powerless, and was hurled to
the ground with a force that seemed to jar the very marrow in my
bones."

In the days of the Revolution, some of the riflemen and the
backwoodsmen were men