It is memorable that Stuart, when once his position was assured, indulged himself in the privilege of refusing many sitters. Notwithstanding his enormous expenses and the embarrassments to which they frequently led, he kept his artistic conscience intact from the smudge of mere money-making, and confined himself to those sitters who appealed to his particular temperament and afforded him the best opportunity of making a good picture. So he was willing to throw up all the golden opportunities which Europe presented, that he might have the privilege and satisfaction of painting the one man whose heroic qualities had most fascinated his imagination. He reached New York in 1792, and two years later proceeded to Philadelphia, where Congress was in session. Establishing his studio on the southeast corner of Fifth and Chestnut streets, he painted three portraits of Washington from life. The first, which showed the right side of the face, was destroyed by the artist as not being satisfactory, and only three, or perhaps four, copies are known to exist. Then followed the full-length portrait, painted for Lord Lansdowne, which shows the left side of the face and is now in London. The third, against Washington’s own desire, was executed at the earnest solicitation of his wife and was left intentionally unfinished. This picture, which shows the _left_ side of the face, was purchased from Stuart’s widow and presented to the Boston Athenæum. Known as the “Athenæum” head, it now hangs in the Boston Museum of Fine Arts, and over fifty copies of it by Stuart’s hands have been traced. Unlike Charles Willson Peale, who made, in all, fourteen portraits from life of Washington, and painted him in the prime of his vigour, Stuart depicts the late autumn of his life, when the fruitage of his activity had been gathered in; a face on which the lines of character are softened; the energy of expression mellowed; a face chastened by responsibilities; infinitely sweet and with a tender melancholy of exalted seriousness. It is the face of one who has conquered himself as well as others; it has the yearning solicitude of a father for his children; it represents him as indeed the Father of his people. The painter Leslie is quoted as having said that it was fortunate that an artist existed in the time of Washington who could hand him down to posterity looking like a gentleman; and, while the remark seems at first sound a trifle flippant, there is much in it, after all. For it is indeed the gentle qualities, those evidences in word and deed of high breeding and elevated mind, the prevailing graciousness and lofty seriousness of the true gentleman,--that _rara avis_ among the indiscriminate flock of so-called gentlemen--that must have been preëminently distinguishable in Washington. One feels that, I think, so sensibly in visiting Mount Vernon to-day.