I prosecuted my walk to Newgate, where, on the piazza of Mr. Thornton's tavern, I found a party of gentlemen from the neighboring plantations carousing over a bowl of toddy, and smoking cigars. No people could exceed these men in politeness. On my ascending the steps to the piazza, every countenance seemed to say, This man has a double claim to our attention, for he is a stranger in the place. In a moment there was room made for me to sit down; a new bowl was called for, and every one who addressed me did it with a smile of conciliation. But no man asked me where I had come from, or whither I was going. A gentleman in every country is the same; and, if good breeding consists in sentiment, it was found in the circle I had got into.

The higher Virginians seem to venerate themselves as men; and I am persuaded there was not one in company who would have felt embarrassed at being admitted to the presence and conversation of the greatest monarch on earth. There is a compound of virtue and vice in every human character; no man was ever yet faultless; but whatever may be advanced against Virginians, their good qualities will ever outweigh their defects; and when the effervescence of youth has abated, when reason asserts her empire, there is no man on earth who discovers more exalted sentiments, more contempt of baseness, more love of justice, more sensibility of feeling, than a Virginian.

No walk could be more delightful than that from Occoquan to Colchester, when the moon was above the mountains. You traverse the bank of a placid stream, over which impend rocks, in some places bare, but more frequently covered with an odoriferous plant that regales the traveller with its fragrance. So serpentine is the course of the river, that the mountains which rise from its bank may be said to form an amphitheatre; and nature seems to have designed the spot for the haunt only of fairies, for here grow flowers of purple dye, and here the snake throws her enamelled skin. But into what regions, however apparently inaccessible, has not adventurous man penetrated? The awful repose of the night is disturbed by the clack of two huge mills, which drown the echoes of the mocking-bird, who nightly tells his sorrows to the listening moon.

Art is pouring fast into the lap of nature the luxuries of exotic refinement. After clambering over mountains, almost inaccessible to human toil, you come to the junction of the Occoquan with the noble river of the Potomac, and behold a bridge, whose semielliptical arches are scarcely inferior to those of princely London. And on the side of this bridge stands a tavern, where every luxury that money can purchase is to be obtained at first summons; where the richest viands cover the table, and where ice cools the Madeira that has been thrice across the ocean. * * * Having slept one night at this tavern, I rose with the sun and journeyed leisurely to the mills, catching refreshment from a light air that stirred the leaves of the trees. About eight miles from the Occoquan mills is a house of worship, called Powheek church; a name it claims from a run that flows near its walls. Hither I rode on Sundays and joined the congregation of parson Weems, a minister of the Episcopal persuasion, who was cheerful in his mien, that he might win men to religion. A Virginian church-yard, on a Sunday, resembles rather a race-course than a sepulchral ground; the ladies come to it in carriages, and the men after dismounting from their horses make them fast to the trees. But the steeples to the Virginian churches were designed not for utility but ornament; for the bell is always suspended to a tree a few yards from the church. It is also observable, that the gate to the church-yard is ever carefully locked by the sexton, who retires last. * * * Wonder and ignorance are ever reciprocal. I was confounded, on first entering the church-yard at Powheek, to hear

Steed threaten steed with high and boastful neigh.

Nor was I less stunned with the rattling of carriage-wheels, the cracking of whips, and the vociferations of the gentlemen to the negroes who accompanied them. But the discourse of parson Weems calmed every perturbation; for he preached the great doctrines of salvation, as one who had experienced their power. In his youth Mr. Weems accompanied some young Americans to London, where he prepared him. self by diligent study for the profession of the church. Of the congregation

* *

*

*

at Powheek church, about one half was composed of white people, and the other of negroes. Among many of the negroes were to be discovered the most satisfying evi. dences of sincere piety, an artless simplicity, passionate aspirations after Christ, and an earnest endeavor to know and do the will of God.

The church described in the foregoing sketch is still standing and an object of interest from having been the one Washington regularly attended for a long series of years while resident at

Mount Vernon, distant some 6 or 7 miles. The particular location of the church is ascribed to him. At a very early age he was an active member of the vestry; and when its location was under consideration and dispute, surveyed and made a map of the whole parish, and showed where it ought to be erected. The Rt. Rev. Wm. Meade, Bishop of Va., in an official tour taken three or four years since, thus describes its appearance as it was at that time; since which it has been repaired:

My next visit was to Pohick church, in the vicinity of Mount Vernon, the seat of Gen. Washington. I designed to perform service there on Saturday as well as Sunday, but through some mistake no notice was given for the former day. The weather, indeed, was such as to prevent the assembling of any but those who prize such occasions so much as to be deterred only by very strong considerations. It was still raining when I approached the house, and found no one there. The wide opened doors invited me to enter, as they do invite, day and night through the year, not only the passing traveller, but every beast of the field and fowl of the air. These latter, however, seemed to have reverenced the house of God, since few marks of their pollution are to be seen throughout it. The interior of the house, having been well built, is still good. The chancel, communion-table, tables of the law, etc., are still there and in good order. The roof only is decayed; and at the time I was there, the rain was dropping on these sacred places, and on other parts of the house. On the doors of the pews, in gilt letters, are still to be seen the names of the principal families which once occupied them. How could I, while for an hour traversing those long aisles, entering the sacred chancel, as. cending the lofty pulpit, forbear to ask: And is this the house of God which was built by the Washingtons, the Masons, the McCarties, the Grahams, the Lewises, the Fairfaxes-the house in which they used to worship the God of our fathers according to the venerable forms of the Episcopal Church, and some of whose names are yet to be found on those deserted pews? Is this, also, destined to moulder piecemeal away-or, when some signal is given, to become the prey of spoilers, and to be carried hither and thither, and applied to every purpose under heaven?

The Rev. M. L. Weems, to whom allusion has been made, was the rector of Mount Vernon parish at the time Washington attended this church. He was the author of a life of Washington, and also one of Marion. His memoir of Washington has been a very popular work, and has passed through 30 or 40 editions. It is a volume extremely fascinating to the youthful mind. "He turns all the actions of Washington to the encouragement of virtue, by a careful application of numerous exemplifications drawn from the conduct of the founder of our republic, from his earliest life."

From a clerical friend of the late Mr. Weems, we have gathered these facts respect. ing him: The wants of a large family occasioned Mr. Weems to abandon preaching for a livelihood, and he became a book-agent for the celebrated Matthew Carey of Phila delphia. He travelled extensively over the southern states, and met with almost unprecedented success-selling, in one year, 3000 copies of a high-priced Bible. He also sold other works, among which were those of his own writing. He was accustomed to be present at courts and other large assemblages, where he mingled with the people; and by his faculty of adapting himself to all circumstances, he generally drew crowds of listeners, whom he would address upon the merits of his works, interspersing his remarks with anecdotes and humorous sallies. He wrote and sold a pamphlet entitled "The Drunk ard's Looking-Glass," illustrated by cuts, showing the progressive stages of the drunkard, from his first taking the social glass until the final scene of his death. With this in hand he entered taverns, and addressing the inmates, would mimic the extravagances of an inebriate, and sell the pamphlet. His eccentricities and singular conduct lowered his dignity, and occasioned the circulation of many false and ridiculous tales unbecoming his clerical profession. He was a man of much benevolence, and a great wit. When travelling, he sometimes received and accepted invitations to preach. His sermons were

generally moral essays, abounding with humor. On one occasion, when at Fredericksburg, he preached from the text, "We are fearfully and wonderfully made,"-which sermon he abruptly concluded by saying, "I must stop; for should I go on, some of the young ladies present would not sleep a wink to-night." Mr. Weems was of the medium stature, his hair white and long, and his countenance expressive and sprightly. He was energetic in his movements, and polite. He proved useful in his vocation, being careful not to circulate any works but those of a good moral tendency. He died at an advanced age, many years since, leaving a highly respectable and well-educated family.

Residence and Tomb of Washington, Mount Vernon.

An English traveller in this country, about the close of the revolution, gives the following list of the seats on the Potomac existing at that time:

"On the Virginia side of the Potomac, are the seats of Mr. Alexander, Gen. Washington, Col. Martin, Col. Fairfax, Mr. Lawson, near the mouth of Oquaquon, Col. Mason, Mr. Lee, near the mouth of Quantico, Mr. Brent, Mr. Mercer, Mr. Fitzhugh, Mr. Alexander, of Boyd Hole and all Chotank, Col. Frank Thornton, on

* Burnt by the enemy early in the revolutionary war.

33

Marchodock, Mr. Thacker Washington, Mrs. Blair, Mr M'Carty, Col. Phil. Lee, of Nominey," &c.

Mount Vernon is on the Potomac, 8 miles from Alexandria, and 15 from Washington City. The mansion is built of wood, cut in imitation of free stone. The central part was built by Lawrence Washington, brother to the general; the wings were added by Gen. Washington. It is named after Admiral Vernon, in whose expedition Lawrence Washington served.

The following graphic description of a visit to Mount Vernon, from the pen of a New Englander, we extract from a recent number of the Boston Daily Advertiser and Patriot:

I had this morning, for the first time, crossed the Potomac, and was under the full influence of the sense that I was in a new land, and amid all the historical associations of the "Ancient Dominion." The day was soft and balmy, and, though early in March, was as warm as our budding days of May. We were in a portion of the great primeval forest of America. The crows cawed from the tops of the ancient, half-decayed trees; and the naked trunks and branches of the sycamore, and the strange spreading forms of the other giants of the wood, were beautifully relieved by the evergreen of the pines and cedars. A solemn stillness filled the air. An ancient, sad, half-degenerate, but most venerable and soul-stirring character was impressed upon all around us.

After a few miles of riding through the forest, with occasional openings and cultivated spots, in one of which a negro was following his plough through the furrows, my friend pointed out a stone sunk in the ground by the road-side, which, he said, marked the beginning of the Mount Vernon estate. Still, we rode on for a couple of miles of beautiful country, left much in its natural condition, without even a fence to line the road-side, with a delightful variety of surface, before the gate and porter's lodge came in sight.

Instead of an iron gate upon stone posts, there was a simple wooden gate, swinging from posts of wood, without paint, turned to a gray color, and shutting with a wooden latch. An aged negro came out from the porter's house, courtesied as we passed, and answered civilly the questions as to her health, and whether her mistress was at home. All was characteristic of the domestic institutions of Virginia, even to the woman's standing still, and letting the gate swing to and latch itself. We had still half a mile before us, and the simple carriage-path led us over hills and down dales, with a surface as diversified as that of Mount Auburn, while the trees were more grand and forest-like, though thinly scattered, and with less variety and richness. We crossed a brook, passed through a ravine, and felt ourselves so completely in the midst of aboriginal, untouched nature, that the sight of the house and its cluster of surrounding buildings, came like a surprise upon me. The approach to the house is towards the west front. The high piazza, reaching from the roof to the ground, and the outline of the building, are familiar to us from the engravings; but its gray and time-worn aspect must be mentioned to those whose eyes are accustomed to the freshness of white walls, green blinds, and painted bricks. We rode up to the piazza, but an unbroken silence reigned, and there was no sign of life, or of any one stirring. Turning away, we passed among the adjoining houses, occupied by the blacks, from one of which a servant, attracted by the sound of our horses' hoofs, came out, and being recognised by my friend, took our horses from us, and we walked towards the house. The door from the piazza opened directly into a large room, which we entered. It was no mere habit that lifted the hat from my head, and I stepped lightly, as though upon hallowed ground. Finding that no one had seen us, my friend went in search of the family, and left me to walk through the halls. From the first room I passed into another, from which a door led me out upon the eastern piazza. A warm afternoon breeze shook the branches of the forest which closes in upon the house on two sides, and breathed across the lawn and rising knolls with a delicious softness. Under this piazza, upon its pavement of flat stones, Washington used to walk to and fro, with military regularity, every morning, the noble Potomac in full view, spreading out into the width of a bay at the foot of the mount, and the shore of Maryland lining the eastern horizon. By the side of the door hung the spy-glass, through which he watched the passing objects upon the water. Little effort was ne cessary to call up the commanding figure of the hero, as he paced to and fro, while those pure and noble thoughts, which made his actions great, moved with almost an equal order through his simple and majestic understanding.

My friend approached and told me he had learned that the family were at dinner, and we left the house privately and walked towards the tomb. At a short distance from the house, in a retired spot, stands the new family tomb, a plain structure of brick, with a barred iron gate, through which are seen two sarcophagi of white marble, side by side, containing the remains of Washington and his consort. This had been recently finished, as appeared from the freshness of the bricks and mortar, and the bare spots of earth about it, upon which the grass had not yet grown. It is painful to see change and novelty in such connections; but all has been done by the direction of Washington's will, in which he designated the spot where he wished the tomb to be. The old family tomb, in which he was first placed, is in a more picturesque situation, upon a knoll, in full view of the river; but the present one is more retired, which was reason enough to determine the wishes of a modest man. While we were talking together here, a person approached us, dressed in the plain manner of a Virginia gentleman upon his estate. This was the young proprietor. After his greeting with my friend, and my introduction, he conducted us to the old tomb, which is the one represented in the prints scattered through the country. It is now going to decay, being unoccupied, is filling up, and partly overgrown with vines and shrubs. The change was made with regret, but a sacred duty seemed to require it. It is with this tomb that our associations are connected, and to this the British fleet is said to have lowered its flags while passing up the Potomac to make the attack upon 'the capitol.

To one accustomed to the plantation system and habits of Virginia, this estate may have much that is common with others; but to persons unused to this economy, the whole is new and striking. Of things peculiar to the place, are a low rampart of brick, now partly overgrown, which Washington had built around the front of the house, and an underground passage leading from the bottom of a dry well, and coming out by the river side at the foot of the mount. On the west side of the house are two gardens, a green-house, and the usual accompaniments of a plantation-seed-houses, tool-houses, and cottages for the negroes-things possessing no particular interest, except because they were standing during Washington's life, and were objects of his frequent attention. I would not be one to countenance the making public of any thing pertaining to those who have received a visitor in confidence and good faith. And I hope not to transgress when I say, that if he can judge from what may be seen among those who bear the name and inherit the estate of the hero, no Massachusetts man need fear that the bond which united the two ancient historical commonwealths, is at all weakened; or that those memory-charge, cabalistic words, Massachusetts and Virginia, have lost any of their force with the true sons of either. Among the things of note shown us in the house, was the key of the Bastile, sent to Washington from France at the time of the destruction of the prison. Along the walls of the room hung engravings, which were mostly battle or hunting-pieces. Among them I noticed a print of Bunker Hill, but none of any battle in which Washington himself was engaged. The north room was built by Washington for a dining-room, and for the meetings of his friends and political visitors. The furniture of the room is just as when he used it, and leads us back to the days when there were met within these walls the great men of that generation who carried the states through the revolution, laid the foundations of the government, and administered it in its purer days. The rooms of the house are spacious, and there is something of elegance in their arrangement; yet the whole is marked by great simplicity. All the regard one could wish seems to have been shown to the sacredness of these public relics, and all things have been kept very nearly as Washington left them. Money made in the stocks can purchase the bedizenry of our city drawing-rooms; but these elevating associations, which no gold can buy, no popular favor win, which can only be inherited, these are the heir-looms, the traditionary titles and pensions, inalienable, not conferred, which a republic allows to the descendants of her great servants.

Let every American, and especially every young American, visit this place, and catch, if he can, something of its spirit. It will make an impression upon him which he may keep through life. It will teach him the story and lessons of the past so as no printed page can teach them. From amid the small machinery of day and week politics, he may learn what was once the tone of public life. It will enlarge his patriotism, elevate his notions of the public service, and call out some sense of veneration and loyalty towards the institutions of his country and the memory of her mighty dead; so that YOUNG AMERICA may, as there is some hope she may, bring back the elements which dignified the first eight years of our constitutional history.

As the afternoon rew to a close, and we were obliged to take our leave, regret from parting from our courteous entertainers, was lost in the grand and solemn impression