ings together, in innocent and manly exercises, contracted a friendship which lasted for life. When George, twenty-five years after this, was called to lead the American armies, he did not forget his old friends, the Stinsons and Crawfords; but gave commissions to all of them who chose to join his army; which several of them did. William Crawford, the eidest of them, and as brave a man as ever shouldered a musket, was advanced as high as the rank of colonel, when he was burnt to death by the Indians at Sandusky. And equally cordial was the love of these young men towards George, of whom they always spoke as of a brother. Indeed, Hugh Stinson, the second brother, who had a way of snapping his eyes when he talked of any thing that greatly pleased him, used to brighten up at the name of Washington; and would tell his friends, that, "he and his brother John had often laid the conqueror of England on his back;" but at the same time, would agree, that," in running and jumping they were no match for him.” Such was the way in which George spent his leisure hours in the service of Lord Fairfax. Little did the old gentleman expect that he was educating a youth, who should one day dismember the British empire and break his own heart-which truly came to pass. For on hearing that Washington had captured Cornwallis and all his army, he called out to his black waiter, "Come, Joe! carry me to my bed! for I'm sure 'tis high time for me to die!" Then up rose Joe, all at the word And took his master's arm, And to his bed he softly led, The lord of Green-way farm. There he call'd on Britain's name It was in his 15th year, according to the best oi my information, that Washington first felt the kindlings of his soul for war. The cause was this-In those days the people of Virginia looked on Great Britain as the mother country; and to go thither was, in common phrase, "to go home." The name of OLD ENGLAND was music in their ears: and the bare men tion of a blow meditated against her, never failed to rouse a something at the heart, which instantly flamed on the cheek, and flashed in the eye. Washington had his full share of these virtuous feelings: on hearing, therefore, that France and Spain were mustering a black cloud over his мOTHER COUNTRY, his youthful blood took fire; and he instantly tendered what aid his little arm could afford. The rank of midshipman was procured for him on board a British ship of war, then lying in our waters; and his trunk and clothes were actually sent on board. But when he came to take leave of his mother, she wept bitterly, and told him, she felt that her heart would break if he left her. George immediately got his trunk ashore! as he could not, for a moment, bear the idea of inflicting a wound on that dear life which had so long and so fondly sustained his own. Where George got his great military talents, is a question which none but the happy believers in a particular Providence can solve certain it is, his earthly parents had no hand in it. For of his father, tradition says nothing, save that he was a most amiable old gentlemen; one who made good crops, and scorned to give his name to the quill-drivers of a counting-room. And as to his mother, it is well known that she was none of Bellona's fiery race. For as some of the Virginia officers, just after the splendid actions of Trenton and Princeton, were complimenting her on the generalship and rising glory of her son, instead of shewing the exultation of a Spartan dame, she replied, with all the sang froid of a good old Friend," Ah, dear me! This fighting and killing is a sad thing! I wish George would come home and Look after his plantation!! Nor does it appear that nature had mixed much of gunpowder in the composition of any of his brothers; for when one of them, in the time of Braddock's war, wrote him a letter, signifying something like a wish to enter into the service; George, it is said, gave him this short reply: "Brother, stay at home, and comfort your wife." But though not destined to figure on the quarterdeck of a man of war, yet he ceased not to cultivate that talent which had been given for higher uses. From adjutant Muse, a Westmoreland volunteer, who had gained much credit in the war of Cuba, whence he had lately returned with Lawrence Washington, he learnt to go through the manual exercise with great dexterity. By the help of good treatises on the art of war, which were put into his hands by the same gentleman, he soon acquired very clear ideas of the evolutions and movements of troops. And from Mons. Vanbraam, who afterwards accom. panied him as interpreter to Venango, he acquired the art of fencing, at which, it is said, he was extremely expert. A passion, so uncommon for war, joined to a very manly appearance, and great dignity of character, could scarcely fail to attract on him the attention of the public. In fact the public sentiment was so strong in his favour, that at the green age of nineteen, he was appointed major and adjutant general of the Virginia forces in the Northern Neck; when training, as was expected, for immediate service. For his services as an adjutant general, he was allowed by the crown one hundred pounds sterling per annum 3* CHAPTER V. French encroachments on the Ohio Washington volunteers his service to governor Dinwiddie-his hazardous embassy to the French and Indians-miraculous escapes-account of his journalanecdote of his modesty. In the year 1753 the people of Virginia were alarmed by a report that the French, aided by the Indians, were erecting a long line of military posts on the Ohio. This manœuvre, predicting no good to the ancient dominion, was properly resented by Robert Dinwiddie, the governor, who wished immediately in the name of his king to forbid the measure. But how to convey a letter to the French commandant on the Ohio, was the question. For the whole country west of the Blue Mountains, was one immeasurable forest, from time immemorial the gloomy haunt of ravening beasts and of murderous savages. No voices had ever broke the awful silence of those dreary woods, save the hiss of rattlesnakes, the shrieks of panthers, the yell of Indians, and howling tempests. From such scenes, though beheld but by the distant eye of fancy, the hearts of youth are apt to shrink with terror, and to crouch more closely to their safer fire-sides. But in the firmer nerves of Washington, they do not appear to have made the least impression of the agueish sort. The moment he heard of the governor's wishes, he waited on him with a tender of his services. "Now Christ save my saoul, but ye'er a braw lad!" said the good old Scotchman," and gin ye play your cards weel, my boy, ye shall hae nae cause to rue your bargain." The governor took him to s palace that night, which was spent in preparing his letters and instructions. The next day, accompanied by an interpreter and a couple of servants, he set out on his journey, which, being in the depth of winter, was as disagreeable an1 dangerous as Hercules him. self could have desired. Drenching rains and drowning floods, and snow-covered mountains opposed his course; but opposed in vain. The generous ambition to serve his country, and to distinguish himself, carried him through all; and, even at the most trying times, touched his heart with a joy unknown to the vain and trifling. On his way home he was way-laid and shot at by an Indian, who, though not fifteen paces distant, happily missed his aim. The poor wretch was made prisoner. But Washington could not find in his heart to put him to death, though his own safety seemed to require the sacrifice. The next evening, in attempting to cross a river on a raft, he was within an ace of being drowned; and, the night following, of perishing in the ice; but from both these imminent deadly risks, there was a hand unseen that effected his escape. About the middle of January he returned to Williamsburgh; and, instantly waiting on the governor, presented him the fruits of his labours-the belts of wampum which he had brought from the Indian kings as pledges of their friendsbip-the French governor's letters-and, last of all, his journal of the expedition. This, it seems, he had drawn up as a tub for the whale, that he might be spared the pain of much talking about himself and his adventures. For like the king of Morven," though mighty deeds rolled from his soul of fire, yet his words were never heard.' The governor was much pleased with the Indian belts -more with the Frenchman's letter-but most of all with Washington's journal, which he proposed to have printed immediately. Washington begged that his excellency would spare him the mortification of seeing his journal sent out into the world in so mean a dress. He urged, that having been written in a wintry wilderness, by a traveller, young, illiterate, and often cold, wet, and weary, it needed a thousand amend ments. "Hoot awa, Major," replied his excellency, |