Martha Dandridge, and afterward as Martha Custis, is due alone to her moral worth. To her, as a girl and woman, belonged beauty, accomplishments, and great sweetness of disposition. Nor should we, in ascribing her imperishable memory to her husband's greatness, fail to do reverence to the noble attributes of her own nature; yet we cannot descend to the hyperbolical strain so often indulged in by writers when speaking of Mrs. Washington. In tracing the life of an individual, it becomes necessary to examine the great events and marked incidents of the times, and to most generally form from such landmarks the motives that prompted the acts of an earth-existence. More especially is this necessary if the era in which our subject lived was remarkable for any heroic deeds. or valorous exploits which affected the condition of mankind. Personally, Mrs. Washington's life was a smooth and even existence, save as it was stirred by some natural cause, but, viewed in connection with the historical events of her day, it became one of peculiar interest.

As a wife, mother, and friend, she was worthy of respect, but save only as the companion of Washing ton is her record of public interest. She was in no wise a student, hardly a regular reader, nor gifted with literary ability; but if that law, stern necessity, which knows no deviation, had forced her from her seclusion and luxury, hers would have been an organization of active goodness. Most especially would she have been a benevolent woman, and it is to be regretted by posterity as a misfortune that there was

no real urgency for a more useful life. Her good for tune it was to be a wealthy Southerner, young and attractive; and if she was not versed in the higher branches of literature, it was no fault of her own, probably, since the drawbacks incident to the pursuit of knowledge, under the difficulties and obstacles of a life in a new country, together with their early marriages, deterred women from "drinking deep of the Pierean spring;" but, under the benign influences of Christian morality, the children of the Old Domin ion were carefully and virtuously trained, and were exemplary daughters, wives, and mothers.

Many have occupied the nominal position Mrs. Washington held, but, in reality, no American, or, indeed, no woman of earth, will ever be so exalted in the hearts of a nation as was she; and yet there is no single instance recorded of any act of heroism of hers, although she lived in "times that tried men's souls," and was so intimately associated through her husband with all the great events of the Revolution. "Nor does it appear, from the documents handed down to us, that she was a very notable housewife, but rather inclined to leave the matter under her husband's control, whose method and love of domestic life admirably fitted him to manage a large establishment." "They evidently lived together on very excellent terms, though she sometimes was disposed to quarrel with him about the grand-children, who he insisted (and he always carried the point) should be under thorough disciplinarians, as well as competent teachers, when they were sent from home to be educated."

It was a source of regret that she bore no children to him, but an able writer has said: "Providence left him childless that he might be the father of his country." It is hard to judge whether or not it was a blessing; but it certainly has not detracted from his greatness that he left no successor to his fame. On the contrary, it is all the brighter from having no cloud to dim the solitary grandeur of his spotless name. Few sons of truly great and illustrious men have ever reflected honor upon the father, and many have done otherwise. When we consider how many. representative men of the world, in all nations and ages, have been burdened and oppressed with the humiliating conduct of their children, let it be a source of joy, rather than of regret, that there was but one Washington, either by the ties of consanguinity or the will of Providence. This pure character was never marred by any imperfect type of his own, and in his life we recognize the fact that occasionally, in great emergencies, God lifts up a man for the deed; when the career is ended, the model, though not the example, is lost to the world.

Mrs. Washington's two children were with her the bright years of her life intervening between her marriage and the Revolution. Her daughter was fast budding into womanhood, and how beautiful, thought the loving mother, were the delicate outlines of her fair young face! Airy castles and visionary heaps of splendor reared their grand proportions in the twilight-clouds of her imagination; and in the sunlight of security she saw not, or, if perchance did de

fine, the indistinct outlines of the spectre, grim and gaunt, heeded not its significant appearance at her festive board.

In all the natural charms of youth, freshness, and worldly possessions, the mother's idol, the brother's playmate, and father's cherished daughter, died, and the light of the house went out, and a wail of anguish filled the air as the night winds rushed hurryingly past that desolate home on the shore of the murmuring river.

A great purpose was born out of that grief: a self-abnegated firmness to rise above the passionate lamentations of selfish sorrow; and though afterward, for long and saddened years, a shadow of a former woe rested upon that quiet place, the poor loved it better than ever before, and meek charity found more willing hands than in the days of reckless happiness. Religion, too, and winning sympathy, softened the poignant grief, and

"The fates unwound the ball of time,

And dealt it out to man."

The cannon of the Continental Militia at Lexing ton belched forth its hoarse sound on the morning of the 15th of April, 1775, as in the gray twilight of approaching day a band of invaders sallied up to demand the dispersion of the rebels. The echo of those reports went ringing through the distant forests, and fleetest couriers carried its tidings beyond the rippling waves of the Potomac, calling the friends of freedom to arms. Mrs. Washington heard the war

cry, and felt that the absence of her husband was now indefinite; for she knew that from his post in the councils of the nation he would go to serve his country in the field. Nor was she mistaken in her conclusions.

She met the Commander-in-chief at his winter headquarters at Cambridge, after an absence of nearly a year, in December, 1775, and continued during the Revolution to go each winter to his headquarters. In early spring she returned to her home, leaving be hind her only child, whose desire to remain with his adopted father obtained from her a reluctant consent. "For usefulness and honor she had reared him to manhood, and to her country she now resigned this last lingering scion of maternal hope and joy," and returned to Mount Vernon accompanied by her daughter-in-law.*

The next winter she passed at Morristown, Pennsylvania, where she experienced some of the real hard ships and sufferings of camp-life. The previous season, at Cambridge, the officers and their families had resided in the mansions of the Tories, who had deserted them to join the British; but at Morristown she occupied a small frame-house, without any convenience or comforts, and, as before, returned in the spring, with her daughter-in-law and children.

Valley Forge, during the last months of 1777 and the early part of 1778, was the scene of the severest

*Mr. Parke Custis was married to Miss Nelly Calvert the 3rd of February 1774.