ion and love! We seem to recognize such men, and to wonder where
we have seen them before. In reality we recognize the virtues they
represent. So it was with him I saw in front of me, and by his air and
carriage I marked him then and there as a man born to great things. You
all know his face, my dears, and I pray God it may live in the sight of
those who come after you, for generation upon generation!

"Colonel Washington," said the captain, "this is Mr. Richard Carvel, the
son of Captain Carvel."

Mr. Washington did not speak at once. He stood regarding me a full
minute, his eye seeming to penetrate the secrets of my life. And I take
pride in saying it was an eye I could meet without flinching.

"Your father was a brave man, sir," he said soberly, "and it seems you
favour him. I am happy in knowing the son."

For a moment he stood debating whether he would go to the house of one
of his many friends in Annapolis, knowing that they would be offended
when they learned he had stopped at the inn. He often came to town,
indeed, but seldom tarried long; and it had never been my fortune to
see him. Being arrived unexpectedly, and obliged to be away early on the
morrow, he decided to order rooms of Mr. Claude, sat down with me at the
table, and commenced supper. They had ridden from Alexandria. I gathered
from their conversation that they were on their way to Philadelphia upon
some private business, the nature of which, knowing Captain Daniel's
sentiments and those of Colonel Washington, I went not far to guess. The
country was in a stir about the Townshend duties; and there being some
rumour that all these were to be discharged save only that on tea,
anxiety prevailed in our middle colonies that the merchants of New York
would abandon the association formed and begin importation. It was of
some mission to these merchants that I suspected them.

As I sat beside Colonel Washington, I found myself growing calmer,
and ashamed of my lack of self-control. Unconsciously, when we come
in contact with the great of character, we mould our minds to their
qualities. His very person seemed to exhale, not sanctity, but virility.
I felt that this man could command himself and others. In his presence
self-command came to me, as a virtue gone out of him. 'Twas not his
speech, I would have you know, that took hold of me. He was by no means
a brilliant talker, and I had the good fortune to see him at his ease,
since he and the captain were o