Washington's delight was to save, not to destroy. His greatest glory is that with small armies and the loss of few lives--compared with the wastes of other wars--he made his country free and happy. ROBERT DAVIDSON. * * * * * Brave without temerity, laborious without ambition, generous without prodigality, noble without pride, virtuous without severity--Washington seems always to have confined himself within those limits where the virtues, by clothing themselves in more lively but more changeable and doubtful colors, may be mistaken for faults. Inspiring respect, he inspires confidence, and his smile is always the smile of benevolence. MARQUIS CHASTELLEUX. * * * * * God has given this nation many precious gifts; but the chief gift of all, the one, we may say, which has added something to every other one, is the gift of this great soldier, this great statesman, this great and good man, this greatest of all Americans, past, present--past, if not to come. Our heritage from him is illustrious above all others. ANONYMOUS. * * * * * Great without pomp, without ambition brave, Proud, not to conquer fellow-men, but save; Friend to the weak, a foe to none but those Who plan their greatness on their brethrens' woes; Aw'd by no titles--undefil'd by lust-- Free without faction--obstinately just; Warm'd by religion's sacred, genuine ray, That points to future bliss the unerring way; Yet ne'er control'd by superstition's laws, That worst of tyrants in the noblest cause. --_From a London Newspaper_. * * * * * Extract from a translation of a Dutch Ode to Washington. Dr. O'Calla has made a literal translation; Alfred B. Street, of Albany, the poetical translation. No lofty monument thy greatness needs; The freedom which America from thee Received, and happiness of thy great deeds The everlasting monument shall be. Thy proud foot trampled on the British chain; But O! beware lest some false foreign power Rivet his fetters on thy land again, For despots smile while waiting for their hour. How deeply touched, Humanity! your soul, When you beheld the grateful tears that rained Down a glad Nation's cheek, as Freedom's goal Was by that Nation's might in triumph gained. O, Fatherland, whoever loves thy fame, Sighing shall mourn thy glory lost, when won; Freedom, when leaving thee, lit up her flame Within the patriot heart of Washington. When Time shall sink in everlasting gloom, And Death with Time shall cease for evermore; When the dead burst the cerements of the tomb, As the last trumpet breaks in thunder o'er; Then as it feels its pulses once more free, Let every heart Columbia claims as son Beat first for God, but let its next throb be For the eternal bliss of Washington. * * * * *