ngton's staff, many other military officers were
present, all gorgeously dressed, contributing largely to the beauty and
grandeur of the scene.

"But despite the soul-soothing charm of music," says a writer, "the
fascinations of female loveliness, and the flattering devotion of the
gallant brave, all was eager suspense and expectation, until there
entered, unannounced and unattended, the mother of Washington, leaning
on the arm of her son.

"The large audience at once paid their respects to the honored guests,
the mother of the chief being the central figure of the occasion.
Washington presented American and European officers to his mother, who
wore the simple but becoming and appropriate costume of the Virginia
ladies of the olden time, while the sincere congratulations of the whole
assembly were tendered to her."

The writer just quoted continues:

"The European strangers gazed long in wondering amazement upon the
sublime and touching spectacle. Accustomed to the meretricious display
of European courts, they regarded with astonishment her unadorned
attire, and the mingled simplicity and majesty for which the language
and manners of the mother of Washington were so remarkable."

When the clock struck nine, the venerable lady arose, and said:

"Come, George, it is time for old people to be at home."

Then expressing her gratification at being able to be present on so
extraordinary an occasion, and wishing the company much joy, she
retired, as she came, leaning on the arm of her son.

This picture of beautiful simplicity and absence of pride, in the midst
of distinguished honors, contrasts finely with a scene in the life of
another great general, Napoleon. On one occasion, when Napoleon gave
audience to famous guests, together with several members of his family,
his mother advanced towards him. According to a royal custom, the
emperor extended his hand to her to kiss, as he had done when his
brothers and sisters approached him.

"No," responded his mother; "you are the king, the emperor of all the
rest, but you are _my son_."

Mrs. Washington was always actuated by a similar sense of propriety; and
her demeanor towards the general seemed to say, "You are my son." And
the general accepted that exhibition of maternal dignity and love as
proper and honorable.

At the close of the Revolution, Lafayette, before leaving the country,
visited Mrs. Washington at her home. One of her grandsons accompanied
him to the