The visit was full of memorable incidents, sometimes most touching, among which I select a scene little known. At one of those receptions occurring wherever the national guest appeared, a veteran of the Revolution, in his original Continental uniform, with the addition of a small blanket, or rather piece of blanket, upon the shoulders, and with his ancient musket, that had seen service on many fields, came forward. Drawing himself up in the stiff manner of the old-fashioned drill, he made a military salute, which Lafayette returned with affection, tears starting to his eyes,--for he remembered well that uniform, and saw that an old soldier, more venerable than himself in years, stood before him. “Do you know me?” said the soldier,--for the manner of the General persuaded him that he was personally remembered, although nearly fifty years had passed since their service together. “Indeed, I cannot remember you,” the General replied frankly. “Do you remember the frosts and snows of Valley Forge?” “I can never forget them,” said Lafayette. The veteran then related, that, one freezing night, as the General went his rounds, he came upon a sentry thinly clad, with shoes of raw cowhide and without stockings, about to perish with cold; that he took the musket of the sentry, saying to him, “Go to my hut; you will find stockings there, and a blanket, which, after warming yourself, you will bring here; meanwhile give me your musket, and I will keep guard.” “I obeyed,” the veteran continued, “and returning to my post refreshed, you cut the blanket in two, retaining one half and giving me the other. Here, General, is that half, and I am the sentry whose life you saved.” Saint Martin dividing his cloak is a kindred story of the Church, portrayed by the genius of Vandyck.[120] Lafayette, at the date of his charity, was younger even than the Saint, and the act was not less saintly. But this is only an instance of the gratitude he met. By such tribute, in accord with the universal popular heart, was the triumph of our benefactor carried beyond that of any Roman ascending the Capitol with the spoils of war. * * * * *