Hero Tales From American History | Page 7

hardiest backwoodsman in following a winter trail and
swimming icy streams. This habit of vigorous bodily exercise he
carried through life. Whenever he was at Mount Vernon he gave a large
part of his time to fox-hunting, riding after his hounds through the most
difficult country. His physical power and endurance counted for much
in his success when he commanded his army, and when the heavy
anxieties of general and president weighed upon his mind and heart.
He was an educated, but not a learned man. He read well and
remembered what he read, but his life was, from the beginning, a life of
action, and the world of men was his school. He was not a military
genius like Hannibal, or Caesar, or Napoleon, of which the world has
had only three or four examples. But he was a great soldier of the type
which the English race has produced, like Marlborough and Cromwell,
Wellington, Grant, and Lee. He was patient under defeat, capable of
large combinations, a stubborn and often reckless fighter, a winner of
battles, but much more, a conclusive winner in a long war of varying
fortunes. He was, in addition, what very few great soldiers or
commanders have ever been, a great constitutional statesman, able to
lead a people along the paths of free government without undertaking
himself to play the part of the strong man, the usurper, or the savior of
society.
He was a very silent man. Of no man of equal importance in the world's

history have we so few sayings of a personal kind. He was ready
enough to talk or to write about the public duties which he had in hand,
but he hardly ever talked of himself. Yet there can be no greater error
than to suppose Washington cold and unfeeling, because of his silence
and reserve. He was by nature a man of strong desires and stormy
passions. Now and again he would break out, even as late as the
presidency, into a gust of anger that would sweep everything before it.
He was always reckless of personal danger, and had a fierce fighting
spirit which nothing could check when it was once unchained.
But as a rule these fiery impulses and strong passions were under the
absolute control of an iron will, and they never clouded his judgment or
warped his keen sense of justice.
But if he was not of a cold nature, still less was he hard or unfeeling.
His pity always went out to the poor, the oppressed, or the unhappy,
and he was all that was kind and gentle to those immediately about
him.
We have to look carefully into his life to learn all these things, for the
world saw only a silent, reserved man, of courteous and serious manner,
who seemed to stand alone and apart, and who impressed every one
who came near him with a sense of awe and reverence.
One quality he had which was, perhaps, more characteristic of the man
and his greatness than any other. This was his perfect veracity of mind.
He was, of course, the soul of truth and honor, but he was even more
than that. He never deceived himself He always looked facts squarely
in the face and dealt with them as such, dreaming no dreams,
cherishing no delusions, asking no impossibilities,--just to others as to
himself, and thus winning alike in war and in peace.
He gave dignity as well as victory to his country and his cause. He was,
in truth, a "character for after ages to admire."

DANIEL BOONE AND THE FOUNDING OF KENTUCKY
. . . Boone lived hunting up to ninety; And, what's still stranger, left
behind a name For which men vainly decimate the throng, Not only
famous, but of that GOOD fame, Without which glory's but a tavern
song,-- Simple, serene, the antipodes of shame, Which hate nor envy
e'er could tinge with wrong;
'T is true he shrank from men, even of his nation; When they built up

unto his darling trees, He moved some hundred miles off, for a station
Where there were fewer houses and more ease;
* * * * * * *
But where he met the individual man, He showed himself as kind as
mortal can.
* * * * * * *
The freeborn forest found and kept them free, And fresh as is a torrent
or a tree.
And tall, and strong, and swift of foot were they, Beyond the dwarfing
city's pale abortions, Because their thoughts had never been the prey Of
care or gain; the green woods were their portions
* * * * * * *
Simple they were, not savage; and their rifles, Though very true, were
yet not used for trifles.
* *