iled, when his
honored master's name was mentioned, to show his yellow ivory, and,
for very respect, uncover his head, the wool of which was then as
white as a Merino ram's.
This joyous event having passed thus happily off, Col. Washington, a
short time after, repaired to Williamsburg to take his seat in the
Virginia Legislature, or House of Burgesses as it was then called, to
which he had been elected while absent on the last campaign; without,
however, any particular desire or effort on his part, but by that of
his numerous friends. Hardly had his name been enrolled as a member of
that honorable body, when Mr. Robinson, Speaker of the House, by
previous agreement arose and addressed him in a short but eloquent
speech; thanking him, in the name of the rest, for the many and
valuable services he had rendered his country during the past five
years, and setting forth the gratitude and esteem with which he was
regarded by his fellow-countrymen. Surprised out of his usual
composure and self-possession by the honor thus unexpectedly done him,
Washington, upon rising to thank the House, could only blush, stammer,
and stand trembling, without the power to utter a single word. Seeing
his painful embarrassment, Mr. Robinson hastened to his relief by
saying with a courteous smile, "Sit down, Mr. Washington: your modesty
equals your valor; and that surpasses the power of any language I
possess." From that time till near the breaking-cut of the
Revolution,--a period of fifteen years, he remained an active and
influential member of this body; being returned from year to year by
the united voice of the good people whose district he represented.
Always thorough in whatever he undertook, he rested not until he had
made himself muster of every point and question touching the duties of
his new office; and, for method, promptness, prudence, and sagacity,
soon proved himself quite as good a civilian as he had been a soldier.
Early in the following spring, his first session ended, he betook
himself to the sweet retirement of Mount Vernon; where, cheered by the
company of his beautiful young wife and her interesting little
children, he once more resumed those peaceful pursuits and innocent
amusements to which he had looked forward with such bright
anticipations amidst the perils and hardships of a soldier's life.
War, as war, had already, young and ardent as he was, lost for him its
charms; and he had learned to look upon it as a hard an
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