SCENES AT WASHINGTON; 
 
 STORY OF THE LAST GENERATION. 
 
 BY 
 
 A CITIZEN OF BALTIMORE. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS. 
 
 1848. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1848, by 
 HARPER & BROTHERS, 
 
 In the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
SCENE AT WASHINGTON, 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 " FOOL ! fool !" she cried, stamping her little foot violently 
 on the floor, as she entered the room, and throwing her 
 beautiful head into its loftiest attitude. 
 
 "Who is it, sister, you are honoring with that fine 
 epithet?" 
 
 Instead of a reply, the same expressions were repeated, 
 while the face of the speaker betrayed evident marks of 
 agitation from something she had just heard. 
 
 " Well, but what is it ? Perhaps if you tell me, in giving 
 vent to your ill-humor in words, you will find some relief: 
 anyhow, you will save your foot which, as you are using 
 it, is in some danger of bruises, at least." 
 
 " Why, there is Dr. Leslie down stairs, and I have just 
 heard him tell mamma that his nephew Charles is become 
 religious. What a fool ! who would have thought it ? The 
 last thing I could have supposed would have entered into 
 his thinking head !" 
 
 " You take it very much to heart, anyhow, sister ; and I 
 see how it is plainly enough. After all your by- play with 
 
 M269053 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Mr. Dickens and others, it is clear that you like Charles 
 better than you do any of them : or, why else do you show 
 this irritation ? However, if you will only keep in your 
 present mood, it will be all the better for me, for you know 
 that Charles promised to wait for me, provided I would be 
 a sober girl, and learn to be a good housekeeper. But 
 compose yourself. Charles s father has died lately, you 
 know, and he is expected from Washington to see his 
 mother : we can then have from himself the reasons for his 
 conduct." 
 
 " Reasons, indeed ! He is a fool, I tell you, Agnes, or 
 else he is crazy, and I don t care which, it is nothing to 
 me." 
 
 " As to his being a fool, this is the first time I ever heard 
 you say anything like that of him, nor do I, for myself, feel 
 disposed to think he is crazy." 
 
 " He has certainly got an able advocate in you, Agnes, 
 and I advise you to make haste and perfect yourself in 
 housekeeping : you can then remind him of his promise. 
 But seriously, this is a bad affair. Religion, to be sure, is 
 a thing very much to be desired when one is going out of 
 the world ; but while we are in the full possession of its 
 splendors and favors, c est une autre chose. Charles is cer 
 tainly a great fool to resign all these, and connect himself 
 with a demure sort of folks, who think it a sin to laugh. 
 Besides, I suppose he must bend that tall and elegant figure 
 down to the lowly slouch of humility. It is too ridiculous ! 
 And then, too, he must lose caste, and what a loss to so 
 ciety. Very few men can talk like Charles Leslie. And 
 further, he will never dance again ; but that is of no con- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 sequence, for I never liked to see him dance. Then only 
 I could laugh at him ; but as soon as he led his partner to 
 her seat, his high bearing commanded my respect again. 
 Dancing, I see, is suited to boys and girls only. A man 
 that can talk, ought never to dance ; but if he cannot talk 
 at a party or a ball, I give my consent that he make him 
 self less ridiculous by dancing." 
 
 " Ah, sister," said Agnes, laughing, " you have made a 
 long speech, and convinced me that this is indeed a sad 
 affair." 
 
 " It is nothing to me. The world is made up of all sorts 
 of people : what one society loses, another must gain. I 
 have just begun to look at one side of it, and it is fair and 
 promises much. I leave Mr. Charles Leslie to look at the 
 other." 
 
 This conversation passed some time in the year 1807, 
 between two sisters, Clara and Agnes Sydenham. 
 
 Mr. Sydenham was one of our old patriots, who warmly 
 espoused the cause of his native country, in her great 
 struggle for Independence. Having borne arms in support 
 of the principles which he clearly saw were his birth-right, 
 he contributed also by his counsels and efforts to form and 
 set in motion the new government of Maryland. After the 
 peace of 1783, he intermarried with Miss Clara Courtenay, 
 a descendant from the gentleman of that name, who came 
 as one of the first settlers in our state, in the train of Lord 
 Baltimore. The ladies of our old families were of a style, 
 and manners, and principles, as unlike as superior to those 
 of the present generation. Modesty, dignity, reserve, were 
 their principal characteristics. When brought into com- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 pany, the young aspirant was taught as well the courtesy 
 of her own sex towards the other, as the deference and re 
 spect which the other was bound to pay to hers. Even in 
 their amusements, the same modesty and reserve were per 
 ceived ; for in the grave minuet, the lady was seen moving 
 in the figure slowly, and at a distance from her partner, and 
 when it was over, he led her to her seat by the tips of her 
 fingers. What would women then have thought of the 
 wanton, licentious waltz ! Education, in every way, in 
 those days, was to fit young women to make useful mothers ; 
 and not by a system, enervating both mind and body, dis 
 qualify them utterly for the discharge of those sterner duties 
 which must always follow the mere dreams of our youth. 
 Mrs. Sydenham was eminently a lady of those olden times, 
 many of whom, at the period this narrative begins, were 
 still alive in Maryland, showing to the rising generation of 
 women in the new republic what women had been under 
 the colonial government. The family consisted of Mr. and 
 Mrs. Sydenham, Clara and Agnes, and Frederick, a prom 
 ising lad of fifteen, then at college. The eldest daughter 
 had died two years before. 
 
 Clara, just nineteen, was a character of no common 
 order. Without being critically beautiful, her features were 
 strongly attractive, while her manners threw around her a 
 grace which was altogether irresistible by those whom she 
 wished to please. This, however, she was not always dis 
 posed to do. Her pride was excessive ; but her judgment 
 was excellent, and her sensibility of the acutest kind. 
 Thus constituted by nature, with her education embellished 
 by the accomplishments which were then beginning to be 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 general in society, and her principles formed by her mother, 
 this interesting girl commenced a life whose trials were to 
 be as severe as they were extended through years. 
 
 Agnes was just seventeen : a rose yet in the bud, but 
 giving the fairest promise of expanding into surpassing 
 loveliness : and such, time proved her to be. Gentle and 
 beautiful being, thou wert, indeed, a flower that bloomed 
 and died too soon ! 
 
 Clara already had many admirers ; but keenly sensitive 
 to whatever was not correct in manners, or striking in in 
 tellect, the gay beaux who fluttered around her were oftener 
 the subjects of her ridicule for their deficiencies, than claim 
 ants upon her preference, from their admiration. But 
 amongst the many who were in her train, she found Charles 
 Leslie very little disposed to flatter her. Deeply attached 
 to her, and, of course, jealous of all who approached her, 
 he never failed to show off all her admirers little to their 
 advantage, or to censure her own behavior, if it did not ex 
 actly meet his fastidious ideas of grace and propriety. The 
 consequence was repeated quarrels, which, though Ihey 
 convinced Clara that Charles felt an interest for her, had 
 not as yet made her aware of the extent of his feelings, nor 
 did he believe that she had any for him, beyond those of 
 respect for his character. 
 
 Charles Leslie, also, was a descendant from two of the 
 oldest families that had emigrated to our state. His grand 
 father, by the maternal line, was an agent for the Lord 
 Proprietary at an early period of the revolution, but had 
 left no sons. His grandfather, by the paternal line, was a 
 Scotch physician of eminence in his profession, who had 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 married in his adopted country soon after his arrival, and, 
 when the war of Independence commenced, it found him 
 with his sons engaged against the king. Charles was the 
 only son of the eldest, who had just deceased. 
 
 As the two sisters closed the conversation already re 
 lated, their servant girl entered the room, and requested 
 their attendance in the parlor, where a gentleman who had 
 just come, wished to see them. 
 
 Upon entering the room, they found Charles Leslie seated 
 on the sofa with Mrs. Sydendam, and conversing with her, 
 but she soon retired after the sisters came in. His coun 
 tenance bore marks of the recent bereavement in his 
 family ; and his deportment, though easy and natural, 
 showed a mental chastening, correcting in some measure 
 his usual flow of spirits. He rose from his seat at their 
 entrance, and, giving a hand to each of the sisters, ex 
 pressed the pleasure he had in meeting them after an 
 absence of more than a year. " How much you are im 
 proved, Clara, as to externals," he said ; " are you as light- 
 hearted and giddy as ever ?" 
 
 " That she is, Charles," said Agnes. " What do you think 
 she made Mr. Dickens do the other day? I told her I 
 would let you know of it." 
 
 " Something outre enough, as the French say, I am sure. 
 But what was it, Agnes ?" 
 
 "Why, Mr. Dickens was paying his usual morning at 
 tendance last week, and making his way into sister s good 
 graces by all the flourishes he was capable of. Amongst 
 other conversation, he asked her opinion of the cut of his 
 new coat." 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " A new coat, said sister, and a very handsome one it 
 is, too ; it shows off so well the fall of your shoulders, 
 (which you know, Charles, are remarkably broad and high) 
 1 walk across the room, Mr. Dickens, turn round round 
 again, (sister all the time looking very demure) the 
 skirts are too long too long by four inches, she said ; it 
 destroys the symmetry and grace of the whole figure : the 
 skirts must be cut. 
 
 " Cut, Miss Clara ? said Mr. Dickens, in alarm. 
 
 " * Certainly, they must be cut four inches shorter, said 
 sister, or the height and grace of the figure will be de 
 stroyed entirely. Look, Agnes, do not these long skirts 
 make Mr. Dickens look like an ordinary man ? 
 
 " * I have no taste, sister, I replied, in these matters, and 
 you know you will not allow that I have any even in my 
 own dress. I now began to pity poor Mr. Dickens, for I 
 saw that his really handsome coat was doomed. 
 
 " But he still held out. * You are surely jesting, Miss 
 Clara, he said. My tailor assured me that this was the 
 handsomest coat he had ever turned out of his shop. 
 
 " * A tailor s taste ! said sister. i Perhaps the coat had 
 laid in his shop a year, made for some one who refused to 
 take it on account of the long skirts. No gentleman of 
 taste would be seen with it on in the streets. 
 
 " * How much did you say must be cut off? inquired Mr. 
 Dickens. 
 
 " Four inches, at least, replied sister. 
 
 " * Have you a pair of scissors, Miss Clara ? 
 
 " I don t know that I have, replied sister, carelessly, and 
 walking off. 
 
10 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " Stay, Miss Clara/ said Mr. Dickens, taking a pair of 
 scissors from my work-basket, * and direct me what to 
 cut. 
 
 " I direct nothing about it, Mr. Dickens, said sister. 
 * Pray, don t spoil the handsomest coat your tailor ever 
 made. I only said that the skirts reach four inches beyond 
 the line of grace. I saw a smile playing around her 
 mouth, and mischief in her eye, as Mr. Dickens, using the 
 scissors, the proscribed four inches soon lay on the carpet. 
 
 " Now, Mr. Dickens, said sister, 4 go and show yourself 
 in Fair street. Off he went accordingly, leaving her in a 
 violent fit of laughter. Mamma scolded her for it, and the 
 only excuse she had was, that she always helped her friends 
 to sustain the character they chose to sport, and as Mr. 
 Dickens had chosen folly, she had only helped him to the 
 badge. " 
 
 " This is a novel mode of winning a lady," said Charles, 
 " and, I must needs say, an expensive one. I congratulate 
 you. Miss Clara Sydenham, that your love of admiration 
 has supplied you with such a new mode of amusement, and 
 that you are content to have admirers, though you make 
 them appear like fools." 
 
 " Content to have admirers !" she replied, with a toss of 
 her head, and her face flushed at the implied censure. She 
 then determined to vindicate herself, though, from an innate 
 sense of propriety, feeling, at the same time, that she had 
 not acted altogether right. 
 
 " You appear, Mr. Leslie," said she, " to sympathize with 
 Mr. Dickens for the ludicrous appearance he must have 
 made ; but to be compelled to find entertainment for an 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 11 
 
 hour every morning for a man without an idea beyond his 
 docket and fee, is a tax which I will not pay to the vanity 
 or pretensions of any one. Everybody is expected to 
 bring into society some talent, intelligence or grace, to add 
 to the general fund of interest or amusement ; but when a 
 buffoon intrudes, good taste and refinement must not be 
 compromised : he must be dismissed, and if the cut oblique 
 will not do, the cut direct must be used. As to the ex 
 pense, you may be sure that Mr. Dickens will not fail, in 
 order to make up his loss, to trim his next client as close as 
 he did his coat." 
 
 Charles saw that Clara had been hurt by his remark, and 
 taking her hand, said, " You have defended yourself ingeni 
 ously, I admit, but your tell-tale face shows plainly all the 
 while that you are not insensible to the injury you have 
 done to Mr. Dickens s feelings." 
 
 " You mistake the matter altogether," she replied. " Mr. 
 Dickens has no feelings that could be aroused to the high 
 bearing of the gentleman." 
 
 " If you will have it so, then be it so," said Charles* 
 " But in making him ridiculous in so strange a mode, are 
 you not lowering your own dignity ? When will you be a 
 woman in your views and conduct ?" 
 
 " When I am a woman : as yet I am in my teens only." 
 
 " And there likely to remain," was the grave answer. 
 
 " Mr. Charles Leslie, that is no business of yours," re 
 plied Clara. " See to your own conduct before you make 
 so free with mine. Recollect the flirtation you kept up 
 with your cousin Christina, how you engaged her in a 
 correspondence amused yourself in your own sober man- 
 
12 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 ner, as I suppose you would call it, then tired of it and 
 very likely now employ your leisure moments at Washing 
 ton in the same agreeable way, with some one else." 
 
 " I plead guilty," said Charles, " to writing twice to 
 Christina, and deny all the rest. Flirtations, as I believe 
 you call them, are not according to my principles or taste. 
 My cousin had fine sense, a cultivated understanding, and 
 was very agreeable in conversation : but I had no feelings 
 for her other than those of a near relative, and I am very 
 sure that such a thought as cutting off the skirts of my 
 coat never entered into her head." 
 
 " You must permit me," replied Clara, " to believe just 
 as much of all this as I see proper ; and as to the skirt- 
 cutting, which you will be harping upon, I am not answer 
 able to you for my behavior to any of my captives. I 
 have a right to treat them as I please, and I will." 
 
 " And if you cause a gentleman," said Charles, " to spoil 
 another coat, I shall say you behave very badly." 
 
 Here the fair girl lost all patience. " Mr. Leslie," said 
 she, " it is a long time since your absence has released me 
 from animadversions upon my manners. I might have 
 hoped that, at last, you had learned that you have taken a 
 liberty which I find irksome." 
 
 " I don t care if you do," said Charles. " Say what you 
 please, but I will find fault if you give cause. I have too 
 much regard for you to leave you to yourself, especially," 
 (added he smiling,) " seeing how little able you are to go 
 alone. But as I am not in a disposition just now for a 
 quarrel, I wish you a pleasanter morning in future. Adieu, 
 Agnes ; your French will give you the meaning of the 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 13 
 
 word." So saying, he took up his hat, and, bowing to the 
 two sisters, left the room. 
 
 He was barely out of hearing when Clara exclaimed, 
 " Was there ever such another vexing fellow as Charles 
 Leslie ? always finding fault with me ! And such a 
 selecter of words ! Too much regard for me, he says. 
 Any other word I could have made something out of, 
 of that, nothing. Never mind, wait a little : I will see if I 
 cannot bend him yet into somewhat of the shape I make 
 others take at my bidding." 
 
 " I doubt it, sister," said Agnes. " Charles Leslie, I see 
 plainly, is stiffer than ever. You are playing a difficult 
 game, and present probabilities are, that you will lose it." 
 
 Charles Leslie was descending the flight of steps which 
 led to the street. " Proud girl !" he muttered to himself, 
 " it shall go hard with me, but I will teach you something 
 of yourself you do not yet know. But I must see my uncle ; 
 my new principles may gain strength from his counsel 
 and experience ; and, in truth, I see already that this at 
 tachment will test them cruelly, I fear, and long." 
 
 He then wended his way to Mr. Townsend s, the doctor s 
 son-in-law, where he found him. " My dear nephew, how 
 glad I am to see you," cried the old man, throwing his 
 arms around him. " I rejoice over you, and love you as 
 my own son. Hold fast whereunto you have attained ; let 
 none take your crown." 
 
 " Very good counsel that, doctor," said Mr. Townsend. 
 " The crown, I fear, is already in danger, for the report is, 
 that your nephew is much attached to Miss Clara Syden- 
 ham, and I am sure she has no more thoughts of religion 
 
14 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 than a heathen." These words pierced through Charles 
 Leslie like an arrow. He commanded himself, however ; 
 the conversation became general, and the day passed off in 
 an interchange of feelings and thoughts which his new 
 views of life, its duties and hopes, always induce. 
 
 Night brought deeper reflection and a more rigid exami 
 nation of himself. " This is a bitter trial, and I feel it 
 through every fibre," he said, communing with himself. 
 " What a face ! every emotion of her mind is reflected in 
 it in a moment ! What depth of feeling hidden under so 
 much levity ! What an understanding ! What powers of 
 conversation when she pleases to exert them ! And yet, 
 not one single serious thought can I ever discover ! 
 Music the dance flirtations with a set of fools and cox 
 combs, is all that engages her. Why then do I suffer my 
 self to think of an object which, though so beautiful, has 
 no relation to that course of life which my principles now 
 force me to follow ? And how is such a course of life to 
 be persevered in, were she mine ? Mine ! What a thought ! 
 I see no prospect of any conformity to my views, and it is 
 distraction madness to indulge any hope of it. My 
 uncle s words and Mr. Townsend s remarks ring in my 
 ears. I must stop." 
 
 But the struggle, so far from being over, was but just 
 begun. Youth may have its likings, its attachments, but 
 the man who once, after twenty-three years of age, finds his 
 affections engaged, very rarely, indeed, loses entirely the 
 impressions he has felt. The world may demand his efforts, 
 ambition may solicit his attention other female loveli 
 ness may cross his path, but the first love has left its stamp, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 15 
 
 which nothing can utterly efface. The needle may vibrate 
 if it be shaken, but soon again settles at the cardinal point. 
 So Charles Leslie found it. " But am I not judging her 
 harshly ?" he said. " How do I know she cannot see, that 
 my road is safer and pleasanter than hers ? Is it not pos 
 sible I can convince her that religious principles give the 
 strongest securities for her happiness ? That she will be 
 safer in trusting to them than to those which the fashion 
 able world may adopt ? Anyhow, it is but fair to try 
 before I give her up, and I will take the first opportunity I 
 can to explain myself fully as to the change in my own 
 views and course of life." 
 
 He determined to return the next day to Mr. Sy den- 
 ham s, but with a consciousness about him that his frequent 
 visits might be noticed, instead of taking the direct route, 
 he determined to take one more circuitous and less exposed 
 to observation. As he turned the corner of the street, he 
 saw Clara, with several young ladies, standing near the 
 paling, in conversation with a lady in her garden, and he 
 immediately joined them. " I am on my way to your 
 father s, Miss Clara," said he ; " my leave of absence will 
 soon be out, when I must return to Washington, and I have 
 had as yet but little conversation with your mother, and 
 little with yourself to your satisfaction, if I may judge from 
 your language to me. Will you give me the pleasure of 
 your company home ?" 
 
 " Yes, if it will be any pleasure to you." 
 
 "Is it possible you can doubt that?" 
 
 " I know not how I can do otherwise," she replied. " You 
 
16 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 are always finding fault with me. You speak harshly, and 
 condemn me unjustly." 
 
 " Look at me, Clara," said Charles. She cast her dark, 
 hazel eyes upon him, but it was for a moment only. They 
 fell beneath the ardent gaze which she saw riveted upon 
 her, and which so truly told the emotions which were 
 struggling for utterance. They had now reached Mr. 
 Sydenham s, and were standing in the doorway. 
 
 " You little know me, my sweet friend," said Charles, 
 " or care nothing for feelings which, when aroused, I man 
 age with little judgment, I must admit." 
 
 " Very strange feelings they must be, Mr. Leslie," she 
 replied, " which prompt you to speak so harshly, and judge 
 so unkindly." 
 
 " It is painful to me," said Charles, " to hear you say 
 this, though from appearances you may have cause. I 
 know not how to defend myself from the charge, but in 
 explaining the reasons of my own conduct, and the extent 
 of my own feelings. May I do this, and will you listen 
 to me with candor? It is very possible that you will not 
 admit my justification to be sufficient, but your generosity, 
 I trust, will at least receive it as an extenuation of my 
 offence." 
 
 Clara gave no answer, but had turned her face aside ; 
 and thus they stood, the scales hanging upon the weight of 
 an atom. It was against them. Mr. Sydenham came up 
 at the moment, and commencing a conversation with 
 Charles, they all entered the parlor. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 17 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " I AM glad to see you, Charles," said Mrs. Sydenharn, 
 accosting him in her usual familiar and affectionate manner, 
 after Mr. Sydenham had discussed politics and retired. 
 " How long will you be with us ?" 
 
 " A day or two more only, madam," was the reply. 
 " My leave of absence is nearly out, and I have but little 
 time to make the arrangements which are required for my 
 mother under her late bereavement." 
 
 "I am pleased to learn," said Mrs. Sydenham, "that 
 your attention is so directed. But what is this your uncle 
 has told me ? Is it true that you have taken a religious 
 turn ? People usually attach the idea of gloomy spirits to 
 religion, but I see nothing of that about you, as far as I can 
 judge ; on the contrary, you appear as cheerful as is proper, 
 though not so gay as I have seen you formerly." 
 
 " The nature of Christianity, my dear madam," replied 
 Charles, " is often greatly mistaken. It makes none who 
 know its power, gloomy ; on the contrary, it gives new 
 enjoyments in giving new and more glorious objects of pur 
 suit." 
 
 " But you have been absent from us but little more than 
 a year," said Mrs. Sydenham, " and how is it that so great 
 a change has passed upon you in so short a time ?" 
 
18 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " It will give me pleasure, madam," said Charles Leslie, 
 " to answer you, indeed, since my return, I have wished 
 it. In doing so, I will tell you how this change was in 
 duced ; the principles of conduct it inculcates, and the 
 foundation upon which they are laid. 
 
 " The first step I made was reflection ; in the language 
 of the Scriptures, consideration. Some circumstances with 
 which it is not necessary to trouble you, forced this upon 
 me. I thought of life, its pleasures, its duties, their oppo 
 sition to each other, of which my own thoughts gave me 
 incessant admonitions. Two adverse and conflicting prin 
 ciples, seemed to wage within me a war which could end 
 only in the destruction of one or the other. To harmonize 
 them, even in the slightest degree, was, from their very 
 nature, impossible. I then considered the final destiny of 
 man. Here the doctrines of Christianity came into view. 
 They everywhere proclaimed the apostasy of man his 
 alienation of heart from the Supreme Good his violation 
 of the holy law of his Creator and Sovereign the prom 
 ise of pardon to every returning and repentant prodigal, 
 through the merits of the Saviour and to such they held 
 forth a thousand promises of indescribable blessedness ; 
 while to the obstinately rebellious, they denounced the just 
 judgment of their incensed Creator. But Christianity was 
 violently attacked. The Bible was refused as a guide 
 and as a lamp to our feet ; and all that Voltaire, Hume, 
 Gibbon, and a host of others, had written, with all Paine s 
 works, were arrayed anew against it. But I knew also, 
 that Milton, Newton, Pascal, Boyle, and others not less 
 celebrated, had supported its authenticity. I could not 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 19 
 
 then give up the Bible. But all these conflicting opinions of 
 great men had little to do with the consciousness I carried 
 within me, Of Sin, Righteousness, and a Judgment to 
 come. The light that lighteth every man that cometh into 
 the world, was now shining upon me, and I determined to 
 make some zealous efforts to obtain the favor of that Great 
 Being who has called himself our Father, and thus secure 
 hope beyond the grave. I began to pray, in sincerity 
 indeed, but in much ignorance ; and the efforts, imperfect 
 as they were, were attended with a degree of peace I had 
 never known before. Even my besetting sin seemed van 
 quished. But I soon found my mistake. It returned, I was 
 again slain by my enemy, and I could with the great Apos 
 tle to the Gentiles cry out in bitterness of soul, Who shall 
 deliver me from this body of death ! I had not yet learned 
 to pray through the merits of the Redeemer. This was my 
 state when I went to Washington. 
 
 " I had there, of course, but few acquaintances, but much 
 time I could call my own, when released from the usual 
 routine of duties in the public, employment. The conse 
 quence was, my mind was thrown back upon itself, with a 
 vast increase of uneasiness as it related to my eternal des 
 tiny. I could take no pleasure in the amusements in which 
 I was once accustomed to engage with so much life : even 
 nature itself seemed covered over with gloom. The clouds 
 became blacker and heavier. Even the night brought no 
 relief; for I was so tormented in dreams, I have prayed 
 bitterly, that I might sleep one night in peace. Truly, I 
 drank the wormwood and the gall. At length I deter 
 mined to seek a place of worship. Still it was no better 
 
20 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 with me ; in fact, worse. The Gospel proclaimed all to 
 be sinners in the sight of God, and 1 felt the truth of it. A 
 condemnation was upon me, from which none but the Great 
 Judge himself could absolve me. But would He ? This 
 was now the question, and a most awful one it was. I had 
 nothing to offer as an excuse, much less in satisfaction to 
 justice for the violated law imperatively demanding the 
 punishment of the guilty offender. Language is utterly 
 inadequate to describe this terrific state, by which the sin 
 ner is led to see his need of Christ. I now saw this need ; 
 and I besought the Almighty to grant to me the forgiveness 
 of sins, when, as I thus prayed, it flashed through my mind 
 like lightning, that I mentally reserved some objects, the 
 enjoyment of which I considered as indispensable to my 
 happiness. Here then I had reached that important point 
 in the life of man upon which his eternal destiny depends. 
 I was plainly, intelligibly, imperatively called upon to ex 
 ercise that moral agency of choice between the Supreme 
 Good and Giver of all happiness, on the one side, and the 
 world with all it could give, on the other. My son, give 
 me thy heart/ was the Divine command, and I knew and 
 felt with complete conviction, that a part only would not 
 be accepted. The struggle was most fearful, never to be 
 forgotten, probably not even through the ages of eternity : 
 angels and devils may have witnessed it. At length, I 
 yielded. I gave up all for Christ, so that I might know 
 him as the Saviour and the power of his resurrection. 
 
 " In this state I was, a few nights afterwards, in a place 
 where the Gospel was proclaimed. An old man of stam 
 mering speech, without education, and who was constantly 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 21 
 
 shocking my college ears with his bad grammer, was speak 
 ing of Faith in Christ. It is the substance of things 
 hoped for, he exclaimed, it is the evidence of things not 
 seen. It is that which unites the soul of man to its Great 
 Creator and Saviour. Whosoever believeth in Him is 
 passed from death unto life, from condemnation into favor ; 
 for, being justified by faith, we have peace with God 
 through our Lord Jesus Christ/ As he spoke, I believed ; 
 my fears were all gone, and a calm came over my spirit, 
 while the passions that heretofore had dominion over me, 
 were now prostrate under my feet, and I knew where my 
 help was. 
 
 " But this was little to what I was soon to know. I 
 had met, to worship, with some old, simple-minded Chris 
 tians, when our Lord came in amongst us, in the spirit, and 
 in the glory of his power, manifesting himself to his disci 
 ples, as he told them he would, and in a manner as sensible 
 to the soul as any object in nature can be to the natural 
 senses. I was filled with a peace passing all human com 
 prehension : dissolved in tears, or giving vent to my joy 
 in exclamations of wonder, love, and gratitude. * This, 
 then, I exclaimed, is Christianity ; and oh, how adapted 
 to human necessity and misery ! This then is the Saviour 
 who died for us, and rose again, and now liveth to make 
 intercession for us ! I know He liveth, and is able to save 
 unto the uttermost, all the ends of the earth that come unto 
 him. 
 
 " This, I am well aware, madam," Charles Leslie con 
 tinued, " is called fanaticism by the wisdom of this world, but 
 the Scriptures declare that the wisdom of this world is 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 foolishness with God/ And what can be considered more 
 consistent with reason, than this manifestation of our Lord, 
 according to his own sacred promise. We believe that he 
 died for our sins, rose from the grave, and ascended to 
 heaven, where he is now seated at the right hand of the 
 Majesty on high. We believe in his divinity, and it would 
 be foolish, as it would be wicked, to deny his power, and 
 willingness to give to his repentant creatures, the evidence 
 of his goodness. I have heard much and read much of 
 what are called the evidences of Christianity, and though I 
 would not disparage any effort of man to defend even any 
 of its outworks, still, I can but pity those who rest their 
 hopes of heaven upon such faith as comes from external 
 evidence only. For, what is all this book knowledge to 
 ninety-nine men out of one hundred ? How few there are 
 who can obtain the volumes where all this knowledge is 
 deposited. How few can read the languages in which they 
 are written. But the language of our Lord is heard and 
 felt by every human heart ; and the conviction of sin, be 
 cause they believe not in him, is so impressed and re-im 
 pressed, that no sophistry can escape from it, and nothing 
 but long-continued perseverance in evil, can efface it. 
 
 " Again, in prayer we make our requests to God as our 
 Father ; but if we have no answer, what the better are 
 we? Are we not in the same position as the apostate 
 Jews when they worshipped the false deities of the Pagan 
 nations around them ? Christianity has, indeed, done little 
 for the world. The Saviour, indeed, has died in vain, if 
 there is still no communion opened between our great and 
 
 I 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 23 
 
 good Creator and his returning prodigal, and no witness 
 from Himself that the reconciliation is complete. 
 
 " I have thus, my dear madam, explained to you, as suc- 
 cintly as I have been able, the exercises of mind which led 
 to this great change in my views and course of life ; and I 
 have also stated somewhat to show, that reason and com 
 mon sense both support this view of Christianity as the only 
 one that can be correct. However sects may differ in 
 speculative notions, they must agree here ; for no language 
 can be more precise than that of our Lord, where He de 
 clares, that We must be born again ; nor that of the 
 Apostle, speaking by his authority, that Neither circum 
 cision availeth anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new 
 creature, nor more precise as to the evidence of our ac 
 ceptance * The Spirit itself beareth witness with our 
 spirit/ 
 
 " The principles thus brought into operation upon human 
 conduct, are love to God, and love to man. Upon those 
 two hang all the law and the prophets, and most surely 
 none other can possibly have such influence upon the mind, 
 to secure what of happiness belongs to this fleeting exist 
 ence, or to insure it in that more glorious existence which 
 is before us. 
 
 " The foundation is * Jesus Christ and Him crucified ; 
 the power of God, and the wisdom of God. Through 
 Him we have received the atonement ; nor is there any 
 other name given under Heaven whereby we must be 
 saved, or by which we can know the forgiveness of sins 
 upon earth." 
 
 Charles Leslie here stopped. The ladies were evidently 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 
 affected, and there was a long silence. At length Mrs. 
 Sydenham spoke. 
 
 " 1 understand you, I think, my young friend, and I am 
 not able to withhold my assent to your views of Christian 
 ity, much less would I dispute the truth of what you have 
 declared as your own experience. Mine does not go so 
 far. Though I have known trials in life, and some severe, 
 still they have not wrought that deep consideration which 
 you say is the first step towards this great change. Per 
 haps, indeed, others may be in reserve for me, and I may 
 yet know all you have spoken of." 
 
 " Heaven so grant it, madam," replied Charles. " Come 
 that consideration when it may, and come it will, and 
 come it must, remember, I beseech you, what I now tell 
 you, you may know the forgiveness of sins upon earth." 
 
 These words sank deep into one heart. Amidst scenes 
 of future trial and distress they were remembered, and be 
 lieved to be truth spoken by one in whom the listener con 
 fided. Often did they recur to her memory, and serve for 
 a support when the hour of temptation and trial had come 
 upon her also. How often it is, that ** bread cast upon the 
 waters is found after many days." 
 
 After a few moments more of silence, Mrs. Sydenham 
 said, " You know, I suppose, Charles, that Mr. Sydenham 
 is elected to a seat in Congress at the approaching session 
 in December. I have given my consent that the girls shall 
 pass the winter at Washington. Pray see them now and 
 then, and take care," she added, with a smile, * that they 
 do not run into extravagancies of any kind." 
 
 Charles Leslie s face flushed up to his forehead, but he 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 25 
 
 soon recovered himself. " I am honored, madam," he re 
 plied, " by the commission you have given to me, though I 
 must confess I have little hope that I shall be of any use in 
 the way you speak of. Washington, during the session of 
 Congress, is gay and dissipated to an excess. All the 
 fashion, beauty, and much of the wealth and intellect of 
 our country are concentrated there. Amusement of every 
 kind is the law, and, it is said, worse than amusement with 
 many. The young ladies will be attended by crowds of 
 admirers, flatterers, suitors ; and, I fear, that in one month 
 I may call, and be dismissed by the servant, with a mes 
 sage that they cannot be seen." 
 
 " Mr. Leslie ! Mr. Leslie !" said Clara, with a reproachful 
 look. 
 
 ** Don t go," said the fine old lady. " Put down your 
 hat, and dine with us : it is near our hour." 
 
 " Not to-day, madam ; pray excuse me : I have an en 
 gagement." 
 
 The evening of the day on which this long conversation 
 took place, was, with Clara, one of more reflection than 
 was usual with her. She was now satisfied that Charles 
 Leslie felt for her a deeper attachment than she had thought 
 of, and was not displeased to find it so. The high respect 
 in which she held his character, had given him some in 
 terest with her for some time past, and the conversation at 
 the door, which was interrupted by her father, in showing 
 his feelings for her more fully, had increased hers for him. 
 But an insurmountable obstacle to their union was pre 
 sented by his religious opinions. " He is no hypocrite, I 
 am sure." she said, " nor do I see how his views of chris- 
 
 2 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 tianity can be disputed ; and his words, giving an account 
 of his experience and happiness, go through me like swords. 
 I never, never shall forget the last words he spoke to my 
 mother. I cannot help respecting him, and even like him 
 better than I did, though he finds fault with me. But go to 
 Washington I must. I am young, and have time enough 
 to grow serious. Perhaps, too, I may see some one there 
 I shall like better. Go to Washington I will." Thus 
 thought and thus determined the woman of the world, in 
 opposition to her judgment, and even, in some measure, to 
 her feelings. 
 
 Charles Leslie, on his part, was more agitated than 
 Glara. His fears, as to what might be the result of the 
 visit to Washington, were many, and he dreaded the effect 
 that might be made. That Clara would be admired, he 
 considered as a matter of course ; very probably, too, she 
 might be addressed by some high dignitary of the govern 
 ment, or some member of Congress. Or if this should not 
 happen, he feared that her principles and manners might 
 suffer under the incessant dissipation in which she would 
 be involved. She was young, full of spirits, unsuspicious 
 of evil in others ; might give her confidence rashly, and 
 thus be easily led into associations which she might have 
 too much cause to regret afterwards. 
 
 His thoughts then took another direction. "I have 
 read," said he, " in that book which is given by infinite wis 
 dom, that the Christian s life is one of unceasing warfare ; 
 and, truly, mine has commenced very early. The Philis 
 tines are upon me already. But I can cast this and every 
 other interest I have in life, upon Him who hath said, He 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 27 
 
 careth for me. If it be best, He can in his own time ana 
 way prepare this dear object of my affection, to unite her 
 fate with mine. But never will I travel through life with a 
 mere woman of the world ; and if, in the waywardness of 
 my nature, I should ever purpose otherwise, Heaven now 
 hear and grant that its gracious providences may interpose 
 and prevent me." So saying, he threw himself on his 
 knees ; and soon the young Christian rose strong to do 
 battle with the adversary. 
 
 Two days afterwards he set off for Washington. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE struggle in which all the colonies had been en 
 gaged together against the power of Great Britain, had 
 served to bind closer the bands of brotherhood, in which 
 oppression had first united them ; and when our glorious 
 Independence was gained, and peace came, it found our 
 fathers prepared to form our present confederacy upon the 
 great principle of mutual concession for the good of the 
 whole. The form of government under which we now 
 live was, in reality, the collective wisdom and patriotism of 
 our noble country. The men who sat in convention 
 have, perhaps, never been equalled by any deliberative 
 assembly that ever met to consult upon the great objects 
 of government. Divine Providence, too, it may be con 
 fidently said, and for its own gracious purposes, aided the 
 efforts of the convention in the formation of our beautiful 
 system, and, to crown its blessings, gave us the Father of 
 his Country to set the machine in motion. His adminis 
 tration of eight years, the most arduous and trying period 
 of a new government, served to give a well-grounded 
 hope that the constitution would as fully meet the expecta 
 tions of its friends as it would prove to be unfounded, the 
 fears of its enemies. But in its progress it developed, like 
 wise, the existence of two parties, of views adverse and 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 29 
 
 unharmonizing, and which, scarcely to this day, have dis 
 appeared from our political conflicts. The acknowledged 
 purity of character, firmness, and sound judgment of the 
 President, served well, however, to control, during his ad 
 ministration, every movement that might have endangered 
 our existence as a confederated republic ; and the New 
 world already bid fair to show to the Old, that man needed 
 not kings, priests, and nobles to rule him, but was sufficient 
 with the powers, with which he was endowed by his 
 Maker, to legislate for his own government, by choosing 
 his own law-makers. 
 
 But the succeeding administration of Mr. Adams was 
 met by a more spirited resistance than could be raised 
 against that of the great father of his country. Though 
 of an elevated standing, as an advocate of every measure 
 adopted by the old Congress to obtain and secure our inde 
 pendence, his unbounded admiration of the British form of 
 government, and of its administration, subjected him to the 
 charge of a greater leaning towards a monarchy than was 
 fitting in the chief magistrate of a republic. The party 
 opposed to him was a party upon principle ; and, after a 
 violent contest, succeeded in defeating his re-election to 
 the presidency. When he left the chair in March, 1801, 
 Washington had become the seat of the General Govern 
 ment. 
 
 At the session of Congress which followed the Installation 
 of Mr. Jefferson into the office of President the winter of 
 1801-2 Washington presented a brilliant assemblage of 
 talent. Mr. Madison, at the head of the Department of 
 State, sustained its duties with an energy and capacity 
 
30 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 which have never since been surpassed ; while his deport 
 ment in social life threw around his character additional 
 brilliancy to its lustre as a statesman. Mr. Gallatin ad 
 ministered the financial affairs of the country with a degree 
 of integrity and science, with which even the vigilance of 
 the opposition was compelled to be satisfied. Mr. Smith, at 
 the head of the Naval Department, with the manners of the 
 most perfect gentleman, exerted all his efforts to bring into 
 that branch of the public service, or to retain in it, (not al 
 ways an easy matter,) men of education, and skill in their 
 profession ; to whom the United States were subsequently 
 indebted for the victories at sea which have added so much 
 to their glory. Little is now known of the difficulties under 
 which, in the then state of the navy, he constantly labored ; 
 nor have his efforts been appreciated as they ought. Gen 
 eral Dearborne conducted the War Department, with in 
 different ability, but sufficient under the existing circum 
 stances of an army of four thousand men. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson s measures were supported in Congress by 
 men of distinguished abilities, and opposed by others in no 
 way their inferiors. Our government, at that time, had 
 been fourteen years only in operation, and the question, 
 even of its continuance, was still problematical with some, 
 who, at the formation of the Constitution, considered it as 
 defective in not having an executive for a long term, and as 
 they therefore thought, a stronger government. They had 
 no conception of a moral power. Everything with then 
 was to move forward under the influence of the sword and 
 musket. But the struggle between the two great parties into 
 which the people of the United States were then divided, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 31 
 
 and which, in fact, was a contest of principles, (not for places 
 of profit, as at present,) had resulted in the defeat of the 
 partisans of a strong government, who indignantly and 
 angrily saw the doctrine of the Sovereignty of the People 
 brought into operation by a President as well disposed, as 
 able, to give it practical effect. Instead of considering it 
 necessary to have a body of legislators to save the people 
 from themselves, as their worst enemies, as was boldly said 
 by a senator from New York, Mr. Jefferson considered it 
 more necessary, as history proved, the people should take 
 care that their servants did not become their masters. This 
 cool-headed and deep statesman, detesting monarchy, the 
 effects of which he had witnessed in Europe ; devoted to 
 republican institutions, through which only he knew that 
 liberty could flourish, exerted all his powers to lay strong 
 and deep foundations for posterity. He did so ; and now, 
 that forty years have passed away, his views of the consti 
 tution are considered as land-marks for our legislation ; and 
 no man, at this day, can aspire to a seat in Congress, whose 
 opinion, as to the sovereignty of the people, is even ques 
 tionable. Richelieu has been accounted a great minister, 
 because he long preserved his ascendency over a weak and 
 bigoted king ; but Jefferson preserved his over men of vast 
 intellect, from their confidence in his talents, integrity, and 
 devotion to his country. 
 
 At this period of our history, not only were the princi 
 ples recognized in the constitution to be developed in prac 
 tice, but its power to secure the great objects for which it 
 was framed, was to be evinced. Our prosperity, it is true, 
 had advanced rapidly, but causes of complaint against the 
 
32 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 two greatest nations of Europe, were daily accumulating, 
 threatening to test, at no distant day, how far our govern 
 ment would be efficient for war. But the philosophy of the 
 President led him to endeavor to obtain justice from the 
 belligerents, by appeals to their interests, rather than by 
 arms. Embargoes and non-intercourse laws were resorted 
 to, and Congress, under his guidance, submitted to inflict 
 vast injury upon ourselves, in the hope that we should 
 thereby inflict greater upon them. But as these measures 
 did not eventually save us from war, Mr. Jefferson s policy 
 in our foreign relations, it has been long seen, is marked 
 with a weakness as disgraceful to us, as that of Walpole, 
 in his dispute with the Spaniards, was to Great Britain. 
 We gained nothing by our restrictive measures, but invited 
 by our cowardice additional insults and injuries. But the 
 President persisted in his course to the end of his adminis 
 tration ; and finally, left it to his successor to make war, as 
 a measure demanded as much by our interest as by our 
 honor. Great Britain, by her humiliating defeats on the 
 ocean, then paid dearly for the past, and it may be, that she 
 will yet pay more so. In half a century " The ball of em 
 pire will have rolled to the West." 
 
 But at the period now referred to, it probably did not 
 enter into the head of a single statesman amongst us, what 
 immense developments of our resources one generation 
 only would produce. Neither steamboats nor railroads had 
 been thought of: there was not even a turnpike from Phil 
 adelphia to Trenton. Manufactures, we had none. The 
 military spirit had expired with the war of Independence 
 which had aroused it ; and the old officers of that period 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 33 
 
 who were yet on the roll of the army, were resting content 
 with the laurels they had gathered in the glorious strife of 
 their youth, rather than ambitious of seeking new ones in 
 new fields. Our young navy, it is true, was even then 
 giving fair promise in the Mediterranean of what it has since 
 achieved upon the ocean, but futurity for our country was 
 still covered over with doubts and fears. Who that re 
 members that time, and the events that were occurring 
 daily, and affecting every portion of the globe, but must 
 recur to it with gratitude, when he now sees our present 
 high standing amongst the nations of the earth, the stability 
 of our institutions, and our increasing prosperity. 
 
 The United States were a vast field, for which our dis 
 tinguished men rushed to contest. The administration of 
 the government of the new Republic of the West, was a 
 brilliant object of pursuit ; and though defeated in keeping 
 possession of it, the Federal party did not despair of recov 
 ering it. Their opposition was inveterate, and sustained 
 by vast powers. Gouverneur Morris, of New York, was 
 a host of himself. This celebrated man, who had served 
 in the Congress of the old federation, had been ambassador 
 to France, in the first period of her revolutionary career, 
 and had returned home, imbued, it was thought, with mo 
 narchical principles. Certain it is, he as heartily affected 
 the cause of the Bourbons, as he detested the revolution 
 ary party which, at this time, conducted the French gov 
 ernment, under the Consulate of Bonaparte. His per 
 sonal-appearance, though he had lost a leg, was superb. 
 Dressed in high style, his hair powdered, according to the 
 fashion of the olden-times ; his large, but well-proportioned 
 
 2* 
 
34 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 form ; his broad forehead, and eagle face ; his erect bear 
 ing when he rose to speak in the Senate, he presented to the 
 observer an object for reflection as well as of admiration. 
 Nor was he less distinguished in debate. With language 
 at command, and embellished by trope and figure; with 
 illustrations drawn from books and intercourse with men ; 
 with a voice sonorous and well-modulated ; with action as 
 graceful as appropriate ; he commanded deep attention^ 
 Still, he made no commensurate impression. His flight was 
 too discursive ; his premises not laid down with sufficient 
 precision, nor his deductions fully logical; leaving him 
 open to the attacks of his keen and discriminating oppo 
 nent. 
 
 This was Mr. Breckenridge of Kentucky. As a lawyer, 
 he was, beyond dispute, superior to Mr. Morris. In dis 
 cernment of the main point at issue, in laying it in the clear 
 est light before his hearers, in pressing it with all its force 
 upon the judgment, disregarding what might be considered 
 as merely collateral ; in all this he could hardly be excelled 
 at the bar, or in the Senate. He spoke easily and well, but 
 there was little of ornament in his style ; and his form, 
 though tall and well-proportioned, bore no comparison with 
 the magnificent appearance of his rival. It was the back 
 woodsman, and the courtier of Versailles. 
 
 These two great men led the vanguards of the contend 
 ing parties in the Senate. There were others, it is true, 
 well known in our history, who brought to their assistance 
 a vast fund of legal and political knowledge, but these two 
 stood pre-eminent. The crowded lobbies and galleries 
 bore constant evidence of the interest taken by the public, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON, 35 
 
 whenever it was known that either of them was to 
 speak. 
 
 In the other House, Mr. Bayard was considered as the 
 leader of the opposition. He had shown incontestable evi 
 dence of his patriotism in giving up his party spirit, or, it 
 may be, the preference of his judgment, in submitting to the 
 election of Mr. Jefferson by the House of Representatives. 
 At a later period he evinced it again, by supporting his 
 country in her war with Great Britain. His mind was of 
 the highest order, and his eloquence engrossing. The de 
 fect was, in his carrying into parliament the practice of 
 the lawyer, and losing sight too often of the main point at 
 issue, in the various shades of difference he presented. Few 
 more real patriots have appeared amongst us since the 
 peace of 83, and few statesmen with powers of mind equal 
 to his. 
 
 John Randolph was the leader of the administration 
 party in the House of Representatives. It is difficult to 
 describe this strange man, as eccentric in character as pre 
 eminent in talents. As to " building up an argument brick 
 by brick," or " stringing together boquets of rhetoric," as 
 he one day expressed himself, he disdained it ; and yet his 
 arguments were illustrated from trades, professions, occu 
 pations, books ; from almost everything on earth, and all 
 as appropriate as beautiful. It was his delight to crush his 
 opponent by a single blow, by showing the falsehood of his 
 facts, or premises, or conclusions, rather than defeat him 
 by a more continued chain of reasoning. It is impossible 
 to conceive, now that a meretricious kind of oratory has 
 usurped the place once occupied by powerful and natural 
 
36 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 eloquence ; now, that county-court lawyers vacate, as soon 
 as they rise, the seats which were once held for hours suc 
 cessively, in listening to the Cicero of the Union, it is im 
 possible to describe the intense interest with which men 
 listened to John Randolph. His sharp enunciation, every 
 word distinct, clear, and appropriate ; his face, depicting 
 every passion that sprung up in his mind ; his gestures, even 
 the pointing of his long, lean ringer, all combined to add to 
 the effect which his language never failed to make. The 
 Congress of the United States has not yet produced his 
 equal as a speaker to a popular assembly. 
 
 The chair was filled by Mr. Macon of North Carolina, 
 a gentleman of undoubted purity of character, but with lit 
 tle ability to preserve order in the House. Noise and con 
 fusion reigned throughout the hall continually. But as 
 soon as the Committee of the Whole was raised, and Mr. 
 John Cotton Smith, from Connecticut, took the chair, (to 
 which he was usually called by the Speaker,) the noise and 
 confusion ceased, the members took their seats, and the 
 business proceeded with the gravity and decorum which 
 ought ever to characterize the proceedings of a legislative 
 body. No man who had presided in that chair up to that 
 time, surpassed Mr. John Smith in the discharge of its 
 duties : none since have equalled him. 
 
 In the progress of Mr. Jefferson s administration, 
 changes, of course, took place in the legislative bodies ; but 
 in the friends of the President, none of any consideration, 
 with the exception of Mr. Randolph, who commenced an 
 opposition which he continued through Mr. Jefferson s, and 
 even carried it into the succeeding administration of Mr. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 37 
 
 Madison. But no opposition could arrest the measures 
 which Mr. Jefferson saw fit to pursue. His principles of 
 government, and measures consequent upon them, were 
 constantly supported by majorities which set opposition at 
 defiance ; and it is hardly unfair to say, that he transferred 
 the reins of government to his successor in what has been 
 called " The Line of safe Precedent," until the people, in 
 the majesty of their power, set that line aside. 
 
 The city itself presented the appearance of desolation. 
 There were then none of those beds of flowers, or gushing 
 fountains, or shrubbery, or shady groves, as we now see, 
 where love (if love could be at Washington) might breathe 
 its hopes and vows to listening beauty ; or where the 
 patriot (and there were patriots then at Washington) might 
 wonder, and muse, and anticipate the future greatness and 
 prosperity of his country. On emerging out of the woods 
 upon the open plain, the eye looked over an immense space, 
 the first object in which that drew attention, was the un 
 finished Capitol. On approaching it, were seen large blocks 
 of unhewn stone sculpture, some finished, some not ; the 
 grounds rough, not even levelled the shops of the work 
 men. In the distance, to the west, appeared the Presi 
 dent s House, unfinished likewise stone thickly strown 
 around workshops scattered about the grounds not even 
 inclosed the public offices sunk so low, that it was neces 
 sary to descend by a flight of steps to reach the first floor ; 
 and close at hand were the kilns where the bricks were 
 burned to erect them : everything bore evidence of the 
 unfinished state in which the new government had taken 
 possession of the new seat of their empire. Blocks of 
 
38 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 buildings, at great distances apart, erected in places which 
 the speculators supposed would be most advantageous for 
 their interests, proved what fantastic ideas were held of the 
 rapid increase of the metropolis. Pennsylvania Avenue was 
 the only thoroughfare, and that was almost impassable in 
 the winter. The boarding-houses were of the poorest de 
 scription, both as to the table and accommodations ; and the 
 votaries of pleasure paid the highest prices for everything. 
 Some weeks elapsed before all were settled for the season ; 
 and at the beginning of the year, the parties for matrimo 
 nial projects with some, of gambling and intrigue with 
 others, and of amusement for all, commenced. And thus 
 time, during the session, was passed. But by some inex 
 plicable cause then, and it is as inexplicable down to the 
 present day, notwithstanding the assemblage of beauty and 
 fashion thus brought together from our broad Union, such 
 a thing as an engagement for marriage was hardly ever 
 known. The gentlemen were either too much engrossed 
 in politics, or perhaps disgusted at seeing female loveliness 
 brought so profusely into market ; or, the ladies had dis 
 covered that men at Washington, were neither handsomer, 
 nor better, nor more intelligent than those they had left at 
 home ; or, they were so amused that they could not be 
 serious enough to give themselves away ; or, their prudent 
 fathers had discovered, that mere official dignity was not 
 sufficient without the more substantial advantage of wealth ; 
 or, perhaps of intellect ; or, perhaps (in a very few cases) 
 of sound morality, to secure the happiness of their daugh 
 ters. Be all this as it may, the end of the session, after all 
 the manoeuvring brought into operation, found all in the 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 39 
 
 same position as at the beginning. Marriages, by some 
 fatality or other, could not be brought about; and from 
 that time to this, a fair calculation will not give more than 
 one for every four sessions that have since passed away. 
 Such then was Washington, during the administration of 
 Mr. Jefferson. 
 
 Mr. Sydenham arrived at the opening of the session of 
 1807-8. His daughters followed him two weeks later, 
 under the care of Mrs. Marchmont, the lady of one of the 
 representatives from New York, and a relative of the 
 Sydenhams. She had with her, also, her beautiful daugh 
 ter Lucy, as sensible as beautiful ! How many of those 
 lovely beings have passed away forever. How many 
 recollections still remain of what they were in auld lang 
 syne. The present generation may have its beauty, and 
 wit, and accomplishments assembled annually at Washing 
 ton, but it will hardly equal what was found there at the 
 session of 1807-8. 
 
40 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 HOWEVER strong were the attractions or repulsions which 
 existed between the two great political parties that met 
 annually in Congress, they operated but slightly in forming 
 the societies which were found at the different places where 
 they were then accommodated. Nor, indeed, were those 
 places sufficiently numerous to admit of much choice or 
 preference. The great object was, a place wherein to 
 stow away all whom business or pleasure had assembled 
 there ; and inconveniencies were soon borne or forgotten, 
 in the pleasure which such new and enlivening scenes were 
 sure to produce. Nor, indeed, was the sight without its 
 interest. Men who bore upon their persons the scars of 
 wounds received in every State of our wide Union, and 
 who had never met since the peace of 1783, or known 
 each other but as history had told of their patriotism and 
 bravery, now met to deliberate upon the general welfare 
 of their country. The south intermingling with the north, 
 and the east with the west; the families of the members 
 interchanging the courtesies of life, or forming friendships, 
 all served to bind still closer, the parts of our beautiful 
 system. In the halls of Congress, the two parties watched 
 each other keenly ; but at the boarding-house, the urbanity 
 of the gentleman took place of the spleen of the politician, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON, 41 
 
 and all seemed anxious to make their temporary intercourse 
 pleasant to each other. 
 
 The company at Vanderhorn s, on Capitol Hill, where 
 Mr. Sydenham had taken lodgings, was mixed up of the 
 Federal and Democratic parties, in nearly equal numbers. 
 Mr. Sydenham, Mr. Marchmont, with Mr. Longfield from 
 Virginia, comprised that part of the company, the most 
 distinguished for the high-standing of the gentlemen in polit 
 ical life ; and two single gentlemen of the House of Repre 
 sentatives, Mr. O Connor from New York, of Irish descent, 
 and Mr. Hollis, from Virginia, completed the mass as to the 
 gentlemen. Mrs. Marchmont and her daughter, with the 
 two Misses Sydenham, comprised all the ladies making 
 part of the establishment of the members of Congress ; but 
 there was another lady also at Vanderhorn s, Mrs. Stanley, 
 from the south, the widow of an officer of the revolutionary 
 army, whom business had a second time brought to Wash 
 ington. This lady, whom Charles Leslie had known the 
 winter before, drew universal attention by her powers of 
 conversation ; though her conduct was not always gov 
 erned by those strict rules which society has established as 
 indispensable to female propriety. Followed as she was 
 by men of the highest station and intellect, she dictated to 
 her own sex, the fashion for everything ; all submitted in 
 some degree or other to a superiority they could not con 
 test, and endeavored then to imitate manners which they 
 saw draw about her so many admirers. Devoted to in 
 trigue from the excitement it produced, still she contrived 
 to make it doubtful, whether she was in search of a second 
 husband, for which her personal appearance offered some 
 
42 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 inducement, or, was only securing friends to support her 
 claims upon the government. But while thus engaged, she 
 had full time to make her influence felt upon the young and 
 unsuspicious girls whom she found at Washington ; and as 
 ingenuousness no longer formed part of her own character, 
 she seemed anxious to drive it from others, and to bring 
 them down to her own standard of heartlessness, and even 
 of indifference to public opinion. 
 
 Charles Leslie frequently heard of the young ladies in 
 the various reports of new arrivals, or those still more 
 various of the sayings and doings of the wit and beauty 
 assembled at Washington. He was not mistaken in his 
 expectations of the admiration they would excite, and his 
 jealousy and his fears were both increased. But he had 
 made up his mind to let things take their course, well- 
 knowing that he could not turn them in the channel he 
 wished ; and he determined to show no solicitude that 
 would make him appear other than as an acquaintance of 
 some years standing. He was in no hurry therefore to 
 make even his first visit, and waited two weeks as calmly 
 as he could, before he presented himself. During this 
 time the young ladies had got engaged in the usual routine 
 of fashionable life. Visits to the two halls of Congress, 
 ostensibly to hear the debates, in reality, to see and be 
 seen, was then, as now, the usual mode of passing away an 
 hour or two in the morning ; then calls upon their acquaint 
 ances, attended by an admirer: in the evening, balls and 
 parties occupied their time still more agreeably. It was 
 one night after their return home from one of these balls, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 43 
 
 that the Misses Sydenham and Miss Marchmont found 
 themselves sitting in their room, before a large fire. 
 
 " What in this world, Agnes," said Clara, " is become of 
 my little admirer, Charles Leslie, that he keeps himself at 
 such a distance ? I will bet a pair of gloves that he has 
 heard how we are going on, and has given us up as irre 
 claimable. Or, do you think that he has drowned himself 
 in the Potomac ? Any how, I should like to see his long, 
 sober face once more ; and if it does not come before me 
 very soon, I shall take care not to know it when it does. 
 Mr. Charles Leslie ought not to forget, that if he has made 
 me afraid to cause the cutting off the skirts of another coat, 
 I may be bold enough still to cut a gentleman s feelings." 
 
 " I must first ask you, sister," said Agnes, " an explana 
 tion of your phrase, little admirer/ Charles Leslie is six 
 feet high, and as straight as an arrow. Why do you call 
 * your little admirer ? " 
 
 " Why, Agnes, you know what a selecter of words he 
 is, and I have been learning from him. By * little admirer, 
 I mean, he admires me a little. Now answer my questions 
 if you can. It will be a serious matter if I lose him after 
 all." 
 
 " I have no doubt it will," said Agnes, " but to your 
 questions: I do not know what he has heard of us, or 
 whether he considers us as irreclaimable or not. As to his 
 having drowned himself in the Potomac for you, or any 
 one, or anything, wipe your eyes : there is no danger of 
 that. As to your cutting his feelings, I do not doubt your 
 ability to do that, though I suspect, if you attempt it, he 
 will not spare your own in return." 
 
44 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " Who is this Mr. Leslie, girls," said Lucy Marchmont. 
 " He seems to be an object of some interest to both of 
 you." 
 
 " I believe, Lucy," said Agnes, " that sister can give you 
 the best account of him." 
 
 " I think so, too, Lucy," replied Clara. " Now listen : 
 Firstly, he is an acquaintance of five or six years standing, 
 that is, since he left college. Secondly, he is tall, straight 
 as an arrow, and slender as a lath. He is not so handsome 
 that any lady would die for love of him, nor so ugly that 
 any lady need refuse him on that account only. Then 
 thirdly, he is sober, religious, and of course, steady. He 
 is very agreeable when it pleaseth him so to be, and most 
 monstrously disagreeable when it pleaseth him to take that 
 turn. Fourthly, he is an admirer of mine ; but I give you 
 to know, he says that this word comes from a Latin word 
 signifying to wonder at, and as a gentleman may wonder 
 at a lady s giddiness or extravagancies of various kinds, as 
 well as at her beauty, or mind, or manners, or principles, 
 he has contrived, by a single word, to leave me in doubt 
 for what it is I am indebted for his admiration. Lastly, 
 when he makes love to me, he does it by quarrelling with 
 me." 
 
 " I have a great curiosity," said Lucy, * to see the 
 original of this strange picture you have drawn. There 
 are some features in it, too, which I like so well, that I have 
 a notion of trying for Mr. Leslie myself." 
 
 " I forbid the bans, Lucy," replied Clara. " The bare 
 mention of it has given me an ague." 
 
 " Well, I will not come between you in this affair of 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 45 
 
 what to call it, I am sure I know not. I will only tell him 
 of your winning money at cards the other night." 
 
 " I shall positively deny it, Lucy," said Clara, " and take 
 my chance for his believing you or me." 
 
 Thus those lively, ingenuous young beings amused them 
 selves for an hour. Could they, indeed, have looked into 
 the futurity of a few years only, what would they have 
 seen ? With two, hopes blooming and withering in an hour, 
 and death claiming all this loveliness as his prey, and the 
 grave closing upon it : the third, essaying a long, and 
 weary, and sad pilgrimage of years. And such is this 
 world, where disappointment is lurking on the side of every 
 road that love, or ambition, or avarice, or pride may travel, 
 and the cold, dark grave the end of all ! Dark, indeed, 
 to those who have never looked beyond it, but glorious to 
 those who have known that the Redeemer is the resurrec 
 tion and the life. 
 
 Charles Leslie, in the course of the following week, was 
 in the gallery of the House of Representatives, and seeing 
 that Clara and Lucy were in the seats appropriated for the 
 ladies, he determined to watch their departure, and attend 
 them home. They soon went off. It took Charles some 
 time before he could extricate himself from the crowd in 
 which he was wedged, in the small galleries of the then 
 place of sitting of the Representatives, and he was not 
 able to join them before they had reached Vanderhorn s, 
 where he found them in the drawing-room, with Agnes and 
 Mrs. Stanley. Agnes ran up to him with all the artlessness 
 of youth. Clara advanced more slowly, and with dignity 
 and ease, and introduced him to Lucy and Mrs. Stanley. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " Mr. Leslie is an acquaintance of mine of a year s stand 
 ing, Miss Sydenham," said Mrs. Stanley, approaching 
 Charles Leslie, with her hand extended to him. " We have 
 had already many keen encounters of the wits, and may 
 yet have others." She then made many inquiries about 
 old acquaintances at the seven buildings, and asked him 
 what additions had been made to their old company at the 
 present session. 
 
 " We remain, madam," he replied, " as when you last 
 left us, with the exception of Captain Jackson of the army, 
 who came last week." 
 
 " Captain Jackson ?" she replied, my late husband s 
 nephew ! Look to your hearts, young ladies ; he belongs 
 to the artillery, and if he lays siege to you, you will hardly 
 be able to hold out against his fine military appearance and 
 strategy of various kinds, in which he is so skilful. Are 
 you not of my opinion, Mr. Leslie ?" 
 
 " I am not able to answer for the ladies, madam," replied 
 Charles ; " the captain s appearance is certainly very fine ; 
 but perhaps some other requisites might be expected before 
 they capitulated, and what those should be they themselves 
 only have the right to judge." 
 
 " But do you not think he would be a formidable rival ?" 
 inquired Mrs. Stanley. 
 
 " That, madam, would depend upon the character of the 
 lady, whose favor he might endeavor to secure." 
 
 " You evade me with your usual address, Mr. Leslie," 
 said Mrs. Stanley. " What is it, do you think, the ladies 
 most particularly affect in gentlemen who may pay them 
 attentions ?" 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 47 
 
 " Sound principles, and high standing amongst men, 
 madam," was the reply." 
 
 " You pay us a compliment in this," said Mrs. Stanley ; 
 " but the captain would well come under your rule, and, I 
 think, would secure an interest in any lady s heart he might 
 attempt." 
 
 " I have no disposition to dispute what you say, madam," 
 replied Charles. 
 
 " But I have," said Lucy. 
 
 " And I," added Clara, " have no intention it shall be 
 considered that I am to be made a captive so easily as 
 Mrs. Stanley contemplates." 
 
 " We shall see," said the lady, rising, and leaving the 
 room upon a summons by her servant. 
 
 Charles Leslie then entered into conversation with the 
 young ladies, and after making many inquiries after old 
 acquaintances, particularly Mrs. Sydenham, to whom he 
 was much attached, " I have often heard of you since your 
 arrival at Washington," said he ; * now tell me what you 
 think of it. Have you found the Garden of Eden ?" 
 
 " As to externals, Mr. Leslie," said Clara, " certainly not : 
 as to other matters, yes." 
 
 " Then the tree of the knowlege of good and evil," said 
 Charles, " is here anyhow, and you have already tasted the 
 forbidden fruit." 
 
 " We have tried several," she replied, " and have found 
 none unpalatable." 
 
 " They may do the more injury on that very account," 
 said Charles. 
 
 " To ourselves, do you mean, Charles ?" inquired Agnes. 
 
48 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " To others, as well as to yourselves." 
 
 " If to ourselves, Mr. Leslie," said Lucy, " we must bear 
 it as well as we can : if to others, as we do not intend in 
 jury, we ought to be excused." 
 
 " Not always, 1 fear. Miss Marchmont," Charles replied. 
 " Carelessness may come within your rule of no intention to 
 do injury, and yet may sometimes produce as much as 
 malevolence itself." 
 
 " Injury to ourselves, then, is the question," said Clara. 
 " How are we to do ourselves any injury in this gay place, 
 where there are so many things to be amused at, and so 
 many people to be amused with ?" 
 
 " What is the object of amusement ?" inquired Charles. 
 
 " To pass our time agreeably, to be sure," replied Clara. 
 
 " Would it not be better to employ your time usefully ?" 
 
 " Staid, married women may do that," said Clara : 
 " young ladies have no occasion." 
 
 " I wish you would think further and more seriously," 
 replied Charles. " Young, as well as old ladies have their 
 duties, and it is the duty of the young to establish such 
 principles as will secure their happiness. But if amuse 
 ment be the sole object pursued, there will be no time for 
 this, and, what is worse, there will soon be no disposition. 
 Would not this be to do yourself great injury ?" 
 
 " I will tell you, Mr. Leslie," said Lucy, * what Clara 
 has been doing, and you may then call it what you please. 
 She won money at cards from gentlemen ; but to do her 
 justice, I must add, she was so ashamed of it, that she rose 
 from the table suddenly, ran out of the room, and left it to 
 Mr. Sydenham to scrape it all up. Then, she is a great 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 49 
 
 admirer of the new German dance lately introduced 
 amongst us, though as yet she has not danced it herself." 
 
 " Not guilty as to the winning money," said Clara ; " I 
 confess to the other." 
 
 " And I am sorry it is necessary you should," replied 
 Charles. " I have heard of the dance which Miss March- 
 mont speaks of, and am astonished that it should ever have 
 got footing amongst us. From the accounts I have had of 
 it from some officers with whom I am acquainted, it is" 
 
 " What ?" said Agnes. 
 
 " I cannot say what," replied Charles, " but I will say 
 this much, if you knew how gentlemen speak of it, you 
 would never dance it." 
 
 Charles then turning to Clara, inquired of her, if Mrs. 
 Stanley was an intimate acquaintance of hers. 
 
 " I have that pleasure, Mr. Leslie," she replied. " Per 
 haps I should have said the honor." 
 
 " I am very sorry to hear you call it a pleasure, and I 
 deny it to be any honor." 
 
 " How so ? What do you mean ?" 
 
 " I mean just what I say," replied Charles. " You havo 
 heard, I suppose, how freely she is spoken of, and her dis 
 regard of it all. Can it be a pleasure to you, and can yoi 
 think it to be an honor, to have an intimacy with a lady 
 who pays no respect to the proprieties of life, perhaps, in 
 deed, to the safeguards of character ?" 
 
 " I have heard of the reports which I suppose you 
 allude to," said Clara, " but I do not believe them, though 
 appearances, I allow, are against her." 
 
 " You know where it is," said Charles, " that I find the 
 
 3 
 
50 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 only safe principles for human conduct. Avoid all appear 
 ance of evil, is a rule which has the stamp of divinity upon 
 it, and believe when I tell you, that whoever is not willing 
 to avoid the appearance of evil, will soon be prepared to 
 admit its reality." 
 
 The earnestness with which Charles Leslie spoke had its 
 effect. Clara s quick feelings subjected her to deep impres 
 sions whenever fair and honest appeals were made to her 
 understanding. Her speaking face told in a moment that 
 reflection was busy with her. Agnes now took up the 
 defence. 
 
 " You are censorious, Charles," said she. " Mrs. Stanley 
 chooses to travel her own road, and, if you do not like it, 
 keep away, and do not disturb her or others who may 
 choose to travel it with her." 
 
 " But I will disturb others," he replied, " if I see others, 
 in whose welfare I am interested, in such company. Re 
 member the French adage, Agnes, c est ne que le premier 
 pas qui coute, or the remark of your favorite Boileau, * un 
 chute toujours attire un autre chute. " 
 
 " I do not admit," said Agnes, " the application of either 
 to the present subject." 
 
 " It might, perhaps, be unreasonable," Charles replied, 
 " to expect you should. You are too young and inex 
 perienced in life for that, but youth and inexperience only 
 increase the dangers which arise from improper associa 
 tions. The road of life is thickly set with dangers, and if 
 we will obstinately pursue it as our first and sole object, 
 we shall certainly find disappointment. Who can tell what 
 changes may pass upon you all within a few years ?" 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 51 
 
 Changes they were indeed ! 
 
 At this moment the door opened, and gave admittance 
 to two or three young men, one of them a son of old Col. 
 Darby of the army of the Revolution. They came to in 
 quire for the health of the ladies after the last night s ball. 
 Charles now became a listener, but soon found that he 
 might listen during the whole morning to very little purpose. 
 The conversation consisted of the usual vapid talk of idlers 
 with young ladies, set off with what wit they were able to 
 show, and a great deal of gallantry. Mr. Darby, by his 
 close seat to Clara, and his earnest and low tone of voice, 
 seemed endeavoring to ingratiate himself into her favor. 
 He had at last advanced so far as to get possession of her 
 reticule, and appeared to be admiring its fabric of white 
 satin, and still more, the birds which were beautifully 
 painted upon it. At this moment Charles Leslie, who had all 
 this time preserved a dead silence, drew the attention of the 
 whole company upon himself, by asking Clara to give him 
 the painting for his watch-case. " Hand me your watch," 
 she replied, " that I may cut it to its proper size." With 
 out being well able to account to himself for the sudden 
 impulse which had dictated his request, Charles now 
 became embarrassed at the readiness with which it was 
 granted, not divining, however, how the scene was to end. 
 A few moments sufficed to show. The painting was in 
 stantly cut out and placed in the watch, and the reticule 
 spoiled. Coloring, and then bowing to the fair giver, 
 Charles resumed his seat, and the company soon afterwards 
 took leave. How long that gift was kept, and cherished, 
 and gazed upon ! How strong and enduring the impres- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 sion which the first appearance of preference makes upon 
 the young heart ! Go the world as it may, in after days it 
 still delights to dwell on scenes when it loved first and loved 
 entirely. 
 
 " I like your admirer prodigiously, Clara," said Lucy 
 Marchmont, " and as you say you can do as you please 
 with your captives, suppose you deliver him over to me." 
 
 " He is an obstinate exception to my practice in such 
 cases," replied Clara ; " nor have I fully made up my mind 
 yet to part with him. He always sets me to thinking 
 seriously when he is with me, and, indeed, sometimes when 
 he is absent ; but after all it comes to nothing." 
 
 Charles was wending his way home. " What does all 
 this mean ?" thought he. " She is prompt enough to affront 
 any one she does not like, and to make any one keep such 
 distance as she may see fit, and yet she spoils her reticule 
 at my first asking for the painting upon it." " Is not that 
 your vanity ?" whispered something within him. " How 
 do you know that she would not have done the same thing, 
 had Mr. Darby requested it?" But Charles Leslie had no 
 vanity. It was no difficult matter, therefore, to settle the 
 question in his own mind, that no preference had drawn the 
 painting from her. Still, the whole scene, and her look, 
 and manners, and attractions at the moment, made sad work 
 within him. 
 
 Two days afterwards, Charles Leslie had gone to Van- 
 derhorn s to see Mr. Sydenham on some public business, 
 and had been conversing for a few moments only with the 
 ladies, when the servant ushered in Capt. Jackson on a visit 
 to Mrs. Stanley. Charles was obliged by the laws of po- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 53 
 
 liteness to introduce him. Mrs. Stanley soon came in, and 
 Mr. Sydenham sending for Charles to his room, he took his 
 leave. 
 
 There exists generally amongst military men, distin 
 guished in their profession, an ease and dignity of manners 
 which is rarely found, in an equal degree, with men in the 
 walks of civil life. To consciousness of the trust confided 
 by their country to their patriotism and ability as its defend 
 ers, the habit of command imparts also a self-possession, 
 which puts the officer at ease with others, and makes others 
 easy with him. He carries with him into the society of the 
 world with which he may be called occasionally to mingle, 
 the courtesies of the mess-table of his regiment, and there 
 is hardly to be found more elegant manners thus formed, 
 than we often see amongst officers of rank. But as in most 
 things there are exceptions, so there are in this. One step 
 beyond self-possession becomes boldness, and one beyond 
 the proper effort to please others, is very apt to evince a 
 superiority which would produce an opposite effect. The 
 captain, unfortunately, was not able to draw this line dis 
 tinctly. Relying too much upon his fine military appear 
 ance, his manners, instead of being easy, were forward and 
 presuming, while his bold stare at the female loveliness be 
 fore him, disgusted the sensitiveness which met it. Some 
 few minutes conversation and manoeuvring on his part, con 
 vinced Clara and Lucy, that Mrs. Stanley s prediction as 
 to a siege, or at least an attack, was likely to be verified. 
 
 After some commonplace inquiries by Mrs. Stanley of 
 the captain, in relation to his family, 
 
 " And what, George, has brought you to the city of con- 
 
54 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 fusion," said she, " where so many languages are spoken, and 
 so little of them understood ? And what fair one from the 
 south or the north has enlisted you in her service ?" 
 
 " Public business has brought me here, is my answer," 
 replied the captain, " to your first question. As to the 
 second, I have not yet sufficiently reconnoitred so as to 
 know to whom I may offer service. At present, I am only 
 looking about me." And he fixed his black eyes, first upon 
 Clara, then upon Lucy, as if he were critically comparing 
 them. 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mrs. Stanley. " Then I predict it will 
 not be long before I see you engaged, perhaps defeated." 
 
 " An engagement, with military men," replied the cap 
 tain, " means a battle, opposition, and this I have not yet 
 encountered, and have not, of course, met a defeat." 
 
 " Perhaps the captain does not think he could meet with 
 one," said Lucy, addressing herself to Mrs. Stanley. 
 
 " Perhaps so," replied the captain, briskly drawing up his 
 fine form to its full height, and playing with his sabretash. 
 " Field-officers, it is admitted, are great favorites with the 
 ladies, go where they may ; and I do not see why captains, 
 so near them in rank, should not be as much so." 
 
 " At Washington, captain ?" inquired Clara. 
 
 " I do not see, Miss Sydenham," he replied, " why Wash 
 ington should be an exception." 
 
 " Nor do I," said Mrs. Stanley. " We certainly do not 
 find here, the ease of manners and the fine appearance of 
 our officers, amongst members of Congress, or any others 
 that crowd this place through the winter." 
 
 Clara and Lucy already perceived the vanity and for- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 55 
 
 wardness which formed such prominent features in the 
 captain s character ; and, from their high sense of female 
 dignity, were, in despite of his fine military appearance, 
 already disgusted with his manners. Nor were they less 
 so at Mrs. Stanley, for encouraging him in the expression 
 of sentiments which strongly implied, that no lady could 
 resist his attentions. They interchanged looks which 
 each well understood, and soon afterwards rose and went 
 to their own room. As soon as they had shut the door, 
 they turned and faced each other for a moment, and then 
 both broke out into a loud laugh. 
 
 " You have nothing left for it, Lucy," said Clara, " but to 
 surrender at discretion. An epaulette is not to be resisted, 
 even at Washington. Poor girl! how unfortunate, that 
 you should have met the captain so soon, and thus lose all 
 chance for a member of Congress !" 
 
 " Look to yourself, Clara," replied her friend. " I am by 
 no means sure that I am to be the object of attack. I ad 
 mit some oeiliads, very severe for a beginning ; but as I 
 saw that you received as many, I think it quite as likely 
 that you will be summoned to surrender as soon as I 
 shall." 
 
 " Then you may rely upon it," said Clara, "if I am, he 
 shall have a lesson in female tactics that shall last him till 
 he is a major-general. It is an insult to our whole sex, as 
 well as to ourselves personally, to use such language in our 
 hearing, and that, too, at a first introduction." 
 
 " And did you observe Mrs. Stanley ?" said Lucy. " I 
 strongly suspect that Mr. Leslie s opinion of her is just. I 
 
56 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 thought at the time that it was harsh, but now I am inclined 
 to think that it was not harsh enough." 
 
 " I have known Charles Leslie a long time," replied 
 Clara, " and respect his judgment greatly. He spoke, you 
 may recollect, with much earnestness upon the occasion 
 you refer to, and it has put me upon my guard. If Mrs. 
 Stanley thinks to bring me under her management, she 
 will certainly find herself mistaken." 
 
 " Who are these ladies ?" inquired the captain, of Mrs. 
 Stanley, as soon as they had retired. " They are certainly 
 very showy in their appearance, and I found it difficult to 
 decide which is the most so." 
 
 " They are the daughters of two members of Congress, 
 one of them, Mr. Sydenham, on the administration side, 
 has considerable influence, it is thought : the other, 
 less so." 
 
 " Are they rich ?" demanded the captain. 
 
 " I cannot answer you that question," returned the lady, 
 " as they are not from the south, as we are. Perhaps 
 Leslie, with whom I see you are acquainted, can tell you. 
 But what are you musing upon ?" 
 
 " It is useless to disguise my affairs from you," said the 
 captain, " and perhaps you will assist to further them. The 
 threatening appearances between the United States and 
 Great Britain have given rise to the probability of a war ; 
 and rumor is rife that Congress will authorize the raising 
 of additional regiments. I think my claims to the com 
 mand of one are not to be disputed ; still, it would be pru 
 dent to get aid from such quarter as I can. Now, if I 
 draw one of these ladies into an engagement, to be followed 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 57 
 
 up to marriage if I see fit hereafter, it might secure my 
 object effectually." 
 
 " Oh ! as to your being able to do this, I have no doubt 
 your appearance and rank, George, will secure your suc 
 cess. All the girls you see here are in the market, and the 
 supply is so great that there is no little competition amongst 
 them who shall get the first offers. I think, too, I can help 
 you with the two you have just seen." 
 
 Thus these heartless beings would have trifled with feel 
 ings of which they knew nothing themselves, and have 
 made both honor and principle subservient to their own 
 selfish purposes. 
 
 Charles Leslie had been compelled by the rules of so 
 ciety to introduce Captain Jackson to the ladies, under the 
 fortuitous circumstances in which he had been placed when 
 the captain called to see Mrs. Stanley. His solicitude as 
 to the result of an acquaintance which he was the unwilling 
 instrument of having formed, increased upon him every 
 step he took up Pennsylvania Avenue, towards his lodgings. 
 As he neared them, he looked at his watch, and found that 
 there were nearly two hours to dinner, when he might ex 
 pect to meet his rival, as he already considered him. He 
 had then time enough to mark out his own line of cautious 
 behavior, determined, as well to evince no interest in the 
 inquiries he expected the captain would make of him, 
 as to observe him closely. 
 
 " I am your debtor, Mr. Leslie," said the captain, " for 
 the introduction you gave me this morning to Miss Syd- 
 enham and Miss Marchmont. You appear to be an old 
 acquaintance." 
 
 3* 
 
58 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " Of Miss Sydenham," replied Charles. " My acquaint 
 ance with Miss Marchmont is of this session only." 
 
 "Are they the daughters of the gentlemen of their 
 names members of Congress ?" 
 
 11 They are," replied Charles. 
 
 " Are these gentlemen rich ?" 
 
 " Mr. Sydenham," replied Charles, " has a large landed 
 and personal property. Of Mr. Marchmont s wealth, I 
 know nothing : the general opinion is, he is rich. Your 
 inquiries are to the point, captain." 
 
 " I am a stranger here," he replied, " and wish to know 
 something of the society I may meet during the winter." 
 
 " It is well to throw out scouting parties, captain," said 
 Mr. Lewis, from the head of the table. " An engagement 
 then cannot come on by surprise." 
 
 " It is a small matter to me, sir," he replied, " how it 
 comes on, as I think myself able to capture any I may 
 engage." 
 
 " But, captain," retorted Mr. Lewis, " Washington is a 
 new field in which you have never yet manoeuvred. The 
 elite of the beauty, wealth, and fashion of the Union are 
 here, and_ it may be prudent to abate somewhat of your 
 confidence." 
 
 " * Faint heart never won fair lady/ is the old saying," 
 said the captain, " and my success elsewhere leads me to 
 expect the same here." 
 
 " Indeed !" said Mr. Lewis, with a twist of his mouth. 
 
 The servant had now cleared off the dessert, and the 
 gentlemen, except Mr. Lewis and Charles, had retired. 
 " Leslie," said Mr. Lewis, lighting his cigar, and puffing 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 59 
 
 away violently at intervals, " that is a high fellow. He is 
 certainly very handsome, but I have rarely, up to this my 
 thirty-fifth year, met such consummate vanity in a military 
 man. I never saw anything of this in any one officer of 
 the army I am acquainted with." 
 
 " Nor I," replied Charles, " and I know many of them 
 well. They are of a high tone of character, with manners 
 easy and unassuming ; abrupt, it is true, sometimes, in a 
 soldier s fashion, but never obtrusive. I greatly admire 
 them, Captain Decatur particularly. I have seen, too, 
 officers of the army of very dignified deportment, and I 
 think that the captain is hardly a fair sample of that arm 
 of the national force. But what was that you said about 
 your thirty-fifth year ? Surely, I have heard you confess 
 to forty-five I" 
 
 Lewis burst into a laugh. " You think you have caught 
 me, you young rogue, do you ? Now remember I am gone 
 back to thirty-five for this winter, that I may rival the cap 
 tain in the good graces of the ladies." 
 
 " Success to you," said Charles, as he rose from the 
 table. 
 
 * Stop, Leslie, stop," said Lewis ; but he was gone. 
 
60 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 VANDERHORN S never failed to be resorted to at night, 
 when balls were not given, by visitors to the ladies or to 
 the gentlemen, or to both, that composed the society. 
 Cards for the elderly gentlemen, music from the ladies, and 
 agreeable and interesting conversation from all, gave con 
 stant inducement to repeat visits that were found to be so 
 pleasant. Mr. O Connor, by his hereditary Irish wit and 
 incessant good-humor, became, in a short time, a great 
 favorite with all, especially with the girls ; as his own age, 
 more than double theirs, precluded the thought that he 
 could be a serious admirer- for any of them. Mr. Hollis 
 was a different character. Notwithstanding that he was 
 about twenty-seven years of age only, he was grave and 
 retired, appeared to be always in deep thought, and, unless 
 excited by conversation, his features were harsh. But 
 when animated, his flow of ideas and choice of expression 
 bespoke him to be no ordinary man, and made him even 
 handsome. It had been but a short time since he com 
 menced making any acquaintance with Clara and Lucy, 
 but had given his attention to Mrs. Marchmont and Agnes. 
 The animation and intelligence of the two young ladies had, 
 however, begun to thaw what appeared to be ice exter 
 nally, and the fire that was hidden beneath was soon 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 61 
 
 visible. But it was not yet apparent to an observer, to 
 which the proud son of the Old Dominion had given his 
 preference. 
 
 A hack was standing one evening before a fashionable 
 boarding-house on Pennsylvania Avenue, and just as a 
 gentleman came out, closely wrapped up in his cloak, to 
 get into it, another came up on foot, to go into the house. 
 " Where are you going, Leslie ?" said Captain Jackson. 
 " You appear to be particularly well dressed this evening." 
 
 " To Vanderhorn s, on Capitol Hill." 
 
 " That is lucky," said he ; "I have just come in to make 
 some preparations for a visit there myself. Be so good as 
 to wait for me but two minutes, and we will go together." 
 
 " This man crosses my path incessantly, said Charles, 
 as he stood in the passage. " I was forced by an accident 
 to introduce him at Vanderhorn s, and now, by another, I 
 am forced to give him an opportunity to make good use of 
 it. In future he shall go by himself, I engage for it." 
 
 The captain now reappeared in full uniform, and cer 
 tainly looked very handsome. A formidable rival he might 
 well be considered by any one, more especially by one 
 upon whom jealousy had fixed her fangs. Charles Leslie 
 was already sensible of this, and said little during the short 
 ride to Vanderhorn s. The gentlemen of the company 
 were all in the room, with Mrs. Stanley, who introduced 
 the captain to Mr. Sydenham and Mr. Marchmont. With 
 the others he was already acquainted, and particularly so 
 with Mr. O Connor. The young ladies came in soon after 
 wards with Mrs. Marchmont. 
 
 " Indeed, indeed," said Mr. O Connor, affecting his 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Irishisms, " it is your own own self, captain, I see, and a 
 handsome fellow you are sure. What a pity you were not 
 born when your father was, and now you would be a 
 general, and seventy years old into the bargain." 
 
 " A bull ! a bull !" cried Mr. Sydenham, and a burst of 
 laughter followed Mr. O Connor s sally. 
 
 " Truth, and so it is," said he, " now I think of it ; but 
 sure my mother made a little mistake in not waiting to 
 have me born in county Cork, in old Ireland, instead of 
 Ulster, here in New York." 
 
 The laugh still continued, when Mr. Sydenham turning 
 to O Connor, asked him " How it was he spoke so correctly 
 in the House, and eschewed so well there all manner of 
 bulls and brogues ?" 
 
 " That happens, Mr. Sydenham," he replied, " because I 
 watch for the bulls before they get to the tip of my tongue, 
 otherwise out they come before I know it. Once, indeed, 
 when I first began to speak, I made a small one, which set 
 the whole house on a roar, and what did Mr. Speaker do 
 (ill luck to him) but call me to order. Sure, too, it is a 
 good thing to have amongst us some one who, in any way, 
 can put us in a good humor, when we are fast getting into 
 a bad one." 
 
 " Your remark is very just, Mr. O Connor," said Mr. 
 Marchmont. * Young as we are in legislation, it is painful 
 to perceive that already the decorum of debate, which 
 ought to mark all the proceedings of deliberative assem 
 blies, is giving way to occasional personalities that dis 
 grace us." 
 
 " It is likely to grow worse instead of better," said Mr. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 63 
 
 Longfield. " As the representation is increased, and young 
 county court lawyers are sent here, fond of talking for the 
 galleries, but without experience, which the great Bacon 
 tells us, is the best wisdom, we shall have men amongst us 
 who have not sense enough to stop when they are done." 
 
 " And are you not after being very severe, Mr. Long- 
 field," said Mr. O Connor, " and not altogether right either. 
 I was talking the other day with an attache of the British 
 Legation, respecting their ready use of the cavalry broad 
 sword upon assemblages of the people, and told him that 
 much ill-humor went off in words if they were not taken 
 notice of. No ! no ! said he, briskly, that will not do 
 for John Bull ; he must have his head broke/ Now, sure, 
 let our young lawyers talk, and no harm will come to any 
 but themselves, in exposing their ignorance, or vanity, 
 which will defeat their return afterwards as members of 
 the House." 
 
 " It will take two generations," replied Mr. Longfield, 
 " before any such result can be had. Education must be 
 more general must even be universal ; and when the 
 human mind is thus equalized, the lawyers will then take 
 their proper level. At present, they are above what is just 
 and equal. A power of stringing words together, as Bona 
 parte calls it, is considered as intelligence of itself, and the 
 greatest man amongst us will soon be thought to be him, 
 who will speak four days continuously upon the same sub 
 ject. I have heard it said, that George Washington and 
 Benjamin Franklin were never known to speak more than 
 twenty minutes upon any subject before the Old Congress ; 
 
64 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 but they kept close to the main point, and never failed to 
 make a deep impression upon their hearers." 
 
 til Humanum est errare, is the old adage," said Mr. 
 Sydenham. " Mistakes are made by the people, no doubt, 
 in the fitness as legislators, of many they send here. Nev 
 ertheless, I have strong confidence in their increasing intel 
 ligence, and certain of their attachment to republican gov 
 ernment. Our eagle is destined to take a glorious flight !" 
 
 * Unless the British clip his wings," said the captain. 
 
 " That they will try it once and again, I have no doubt," 
 replied Mr. Sydenham, " and that they will be disgraced, I 
 am just as certain. We are too dilatory in making prep 
 arations for an event that is evidently approaching, and I 
 fear that we shall suffer much before we can buckle on our 
 armor, even for defence. But no fear that the sons of the 
 Fathers of the war of the Revolution will not succeed as 
 well in the next. Besides, there is our young navy, which, 
 though not able to give battle in fleets, may disgrace them 
 in fights between single ships, and thus destroy, in the 
 opinion of Europe, the belief of British invincibility upon 
 the ocean." 
 
 " But you said that Great Britain would try it once and 
 again," said the captain. ** When will that again be ?" 
 
 " The next generation will see it," replied Mr. Syden 
 ham. " A great naval power we must be, from our posi 
 tion. Our resources for it are inexhaustible. Our enemy 
 is hastening us onwards towards it, and one great naval 
 victory in fleets, decides her fate. It is a strange thing to 
 me, that her statesmen are so blinded by ambition that 
 they cannot take one look into futurity. Even Lord Chat- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 65 
 
 ham was in this position when he said he would not suffer 
 us to manufacture a hob-nail. Was that great man not 
 able to perceive the consequences sure to arise out of the 
 increase of our population ? And what madness to sup 
 pose that the resources of so vast a country as this were 
 never to be brought forward, in order that the manufacto 
 ries of a little island in the Atlantic might flourish ! It is 
 not less so in her statesmen now, to suppose that we can 
 not fight her successfully with single ships ; and those who 
 may be in power, half a century to come, may be just as 
 blind in supposing that we cannot beat them in battle with 
 fleets upon the ocean. But * prius dementat. The mother 
 may, one day, fly for protection to the daughter, after hav 
 ing ruined herself in vain efforts to arrest her progress to 
 empire." 
 
 " It is impossible," said Mr. Marchmont, " to foresee 
 what is to be the end of these astonishing events that are 
 still convulsing the whole world. Great Britain may fall 
 under the attacks of Bonaparte ; but I doubt it. I have 
 lately been in that country, and from what observation I 
 could make, and from all I could learn, I am satisfied that 
 her power is enormous, and still increasing ; but that she 
 is undermining the general prosperity of her people at 
 home, is evident. The lands are now held by few, the 
 great body of the English yeomanry, once the pride and 
 strength of the nation, have nearly disappeared, and little 
 is now seen but extremes, in the vast wealth of the aris 
 tocracy on the one hand, and the excessive poverty of the 
 working classes on the other. She resembles Rome in the 
 early period of her decline, when the senator possessed an 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 annual income of four thousand pounds weight of gold, 
 and the people were fed by distributions of grain, bought 
 by the public treasury. Her present are like death strug 
 gles : she strikes on every side ; and in her attack upon 
 the Chesapeake frigate, has roused up another enemy that 
 may yet give her cause to repent it." 
 
 " And one day will commit similar outrages upon our 
 territory," said Mr. Sydenham. " Yet I should be sorry 
 to see her reduced under French domination. I have al 
 ways detested her ever-grasping and ambitious projects ; 
 and, no doubt, the good of the world will require at some 
 future period, that a league should be formed to check her, 
 as much as a league is now thought necessary to check the 
 ambition of the new Emperor of the French. There is no 
 difference to speak of, between the universal empire on 
 land of the French, and the universal empire on the sea of 
 the British. Europe may resist the first ; we shall have 
 to resist the latter, and in doing it, repay Great Britain for 
 the robberies, insults, and injuries she has heaped upon us 
 for a century." 
 
 " From my heart," said Mr. O Connor, " I wish she 
 would loosen her hold on Old Ireland a bit. One of the 
 most painful sights I ever saw, is the utter poverty of the 
 vast mass of the Irish peasantry ; and one of the most 
 revolting to my feelings as an Irishman by descent, was to 
 see the fat, sleek coachman of some English nobleman, 
 cutting away from his box, with his whip, upon the bare 
 legged and famishing Irish boys, who were running at the 
 side of the coach, begging for a penny. But let us stop," 
 he added ; " we lose ourselves in speculating upon futu- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 67 
 
 rity, and my Irish blood is soon heated when I begin to 
 talk of the degradation of my good old father s land. 
 There, Mr. Sydenham, is the card-table just set out. Come 
 here," said he, calling to the captain, " and give these gen 
 tlemen the pleasure of winning a half year of the pay they 
 will vote you in the Army Appropriation Bill." 
 
 " It would be more agreeable," said the captain, " if the 
 gentlemen would increase, instead of diminishing it." 
 
 " Fairly answered, captain," said Mr. Sydenham, as he 
 rose to go near the table ; the company at which had been 
 increased by the entrance of some gentlemen from the 
 adjoining house. 
 
 Mr. Marchmont was a Presbyterian, and did not play 
 cards. Addressing Charles Leslie, <: I am glad to find," 
 said he, " that you reject card-playing even as an amuse 
 ment. It is dangerous even as such, for it is very apt soon 
 to become a passion." 
 
 "I reject it, Mr. Marchmont, from religious principles," 
 said Charles. 
 
 " Better still, my young friend," replied Mr. Marchmont. 
 " I have long lived in the world, and observed it closely, 
 and am well satisfied that none other are sufficient to sus 
 tain us under the trials and difficulties to which we are 
 constantly exposed. But have you ever considered the 
 influence which Christianity has had upon civil liberty ?" 
 
 Mr. Hollis had approached near enough to where 
 Charles Leslie stood in conversation with Mr. Marchmont, 
 to hear the question, and Charles s answer. 
 
 " I have had my attention much drawn to the subject," 
 he replied, " in the course of my reading of history, and 
 
68 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 found it to be of deep interest to all. But I found it also 
 to be so extensive, that I am by no means master of all its 
 details. What has particularly struck me, is this that 
 liberty, such as the great body of the people possessed 
 under the feudal system, was lost under the false system 
 of Romanism ; but had its origin again under the Puritans 
 of England after the Reformation was preached by Luther, 
 was enlarged, and finally established by their influence 
 upon the English government." 
 
 " What is that you have asserted, Mr. Leslie V 9 said Mr. 
 Hollis, who had now joined them. 
 
 Charles repeated what he had just said to Mr. March- 
 mont. 
 
 " But do you not know," said Mr. Hollis, " that liberty 
 existed in Spain more than one hundred years before the 
 Puritans arose ?" 
 
 " Yes," replied Charles ; " and do you not know that it 
 was lost in the defeat of Padilla by the Emperor Charles 
 the Fifth ?" 
 
 " Admit that, but you will see that liberty may have 
 been originated without the aid of your favorite Puritans, 
 and even amongst barbarous nations ; such as those that 
 overturned the Roman Empire." 
 
 "Not such liberty as Christianity teaches and enforces," 
 replied Charles. " The Bible, in unfolding the relative duties 
 of the rulers and the ruled, sets forth the social duties like 
 wise in the most perfect manner, and founding them upon the 
 divine authority, has, of necessity, produced a knowledge 
 of human rights, infinitely beyond what even the Greeks 
 and Romans, much less what barbarians knew. But the 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 69 
 
 question is not so much as to the extent of the knowledge 
 of their rights as men, that different nations have possessed 
 from age to age, but of the firmness which men exercised 
 to recover them when lost, to give them further progress, 
 and finally to establish and secure them. The liberty of 
 the Spaniard, before the Reformation, though upheld by all 
 the power of the Justiza, fell under the sword of the 
 monarchy, as the liberty of the Frank, though upheld by 
 all the power of the Mord Dom, had fallen long before 
 under the sword of the aristocracy. The liberty which 
 the Puritans of England originated, was extended vastly 
 beyond that of the Spaniard or Frank, and when the con 
 test with Charles the First came on, they were found to be 
 a different sort of men to deal with, from the men of any 
 nation who had preceded them, or who then existed. In 
 the Bible they found their rights, and from the Bible they 
 derived the firmness to establish them." 
 
 " Your knowledge of history," said Mr. Hollis, " appears 
 to be so limited, you do not know that the rights of 
 Englishmen were secured by Magna-Charta, in the reign 
 of King John." 
 
 " Compare," replied Charles, " the provisions of Magna- 
 Chart, extorted by the barons, (not by the people,) and 
 mainly for their own advantage, with those of the Petition 
 of Right, in the time of Charles the First, and you will 
 perceive how much more extended are the latter. But 
 Magna-Charta was repeatedly violated, and the most mon 
 strous abuses of human rights existed, until the Reforma 
 tion. What was liberty worth when the property of the 
 subject could be levied upon by the crown for ship-money, 
 
70 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 or forced loans exacted by the same authority ? Or where 
 was the security for a man s life or limb when the Star- 
 Chamber was in existence ?" 
 
 " Your argument," said Mr. Hollis, " might be carried so 
 far, as to attribute to the Puritans all the liberty that even 
 we in the United States enjoy." 
 
 " It certainly may and ought," replied Charles Leslie. 
 " We derive it from Englishmen, and even Hume, writing 
 as a historian, was compelled, for his own reputation s 
 sake, to say that the Puritans gave origin and progress to 
 civil liberty ; and that to them, Englishmen owe all the 
 freedom of their Constitution. I have quoted him cor 
 rectly. This admission on the part of an infidel, was 
 extorted by facts so strong, that he could not deny them. 
 However it may be elsewhere, we Marylanders certainly 
 know whence our civil liberty was derived, for our Bill of 
 Rights is nearly a transcript of that of the Puritans of 
 England." 
 
 " It is absurd," said Mr. Hollis, " to found civil liberty 
 upon fanaticism, and Hume himself, since you quote Hume, 
 says they were fanatics." 
 
 " You are right, sir," said Charles, " Hume does say so ; 
 but in that he lays himself open to the charge of ignorance, 
 or inconsistency, or absurdity. I will use a passage of the 
 Scriptures as an argument. How can a bad tree bring 
 forth good fruit? How then can fanaticism, a corrupt 
 principle, originate and secure civil liberty ? Hume forgot 
 himself strangely in that part of his history. I have 
 thought it wonderful that this deep thinker did not perceive 
 how he had committed himself. His pretended fanatics 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 71 
 
 were men of vast intellect, and were practical Christians, 
 holding the great doctrine of the divinity of our Lord. 
 You yourself bear the name of one of the most distin 
 guished amongst them." 
 
 " I have no disposition whatever," replied Mr. Hollis, 
 " to trace my descent from any such stock, nor ambitious 
 of being considered as holding any such opinions. Chris 
 tianity .with us is at a low ebb : at the end of this genera 
 tion, man, relying upon the dignity of human nature, will 
 be able to see and to discharge all his duties by his own 
 powers." 
 
 " He never has, never will, and never can," said Charles, 
 " or there is no truth in what we read and see. Even in 
 our own country we have had many men distinguished for 
 great talents, yet infamous for some of the basest vices 
 that can degrade human nature. And to make the case 
 the stronger, such men are often found upon the seat of 
 justice, to award the penalties of the law upon others less 
 criminal than themselves ; or to legislate for this rising 
 country, when they themselves are ready to break the 
 laws they have just made. Mr. Jefferson, in his Notes on 
 Virginia, speaking upon the subject of slavery, says, I 
 tremble for my country when I consider that God is just. 
 I tremble for it when I see men swear to support the Con 
 stitution upon that book which commands Thou shalt do 
 no murder, and then see them seek each other s life before 
 the session is at an end. Men may call this what they 
 will, but I must tremble, as Mr. Jefferson says he did upon 
 another subject, when I see practical atheists, and proved 
 to be so by their conduct, seated either in our halls of 
 
72 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 legislation, or upon the bench of justice. All the civil 
 liberty we possess came through the Bible, and by the Bible 
 only can it be perpetuated." 
 
 " Did the French, at the commencement of their revolu 
 tion," inquired Mr. Hollis, " derive the knowledge of their 
 rights from the Bible ?" 
 
 " Certainly not," replied Charles Leslie ; " and their 
 efforts to establish civil liberty have ended in a military 
 despotism. The religion of the Bible had been corrupted 
 by Romanism, and by alliance with the state when the 
 revolution broke out ; and its horrors are a sad commentary 
 upon the dignity of human nature, upon which you lay so 
 much stress. There is also another period in French his 
 tory, bearing strongly upon the question of results follow 
 ing internal disturbances, as affected by the principles 
 which give rise to them. The league of the Fronde was 
 convulsing France, at the time the Puritans were contend 
 ing for civil liberty in England. The Frondeurs gained 
 nothing : the Puritans everything. The French Fron 
 deurs were Romanists : the English Puritans, Protestants. 
 The contest was then, is now, and will continue to be, the 
 Bible against despotism." 
 
 " If that is to be it," said Mr. Hollis, " we may as well 
 submit to our fate at once. Great Britain herself, the 
 mother of the Puritans, has much to learn yet as to the 
 equality of human rights." 
 
 " No doubt," replied Charles. " Her church establish 
 ment is the cause of it, and it will one day prove her ruin, 
 as Romanism did that of France. The alliance of church 
 and state is the curse of the world. But the rulers of all 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 73 
 
 nations and in all ages, have ever perceived the influence 
 which religion might bring to bear upon human conduct ; 
 and have then bought up priests, or clergy, as the case 
 might be, to aid the ambitious projects of the state. Thus, 
 Christianity has been mixed up, in the Old World, with the 
 worst passions of our nature ; until corruption having 
 reached its height, revolutions necessarily follow. So far 
 from being ended, they are but just begun." 
 
 " There is a vast dignity in human nature," said Mr. 
 Hollis. " Enlarge it by education : it will secure us in the 
 United States, and we will leave Europe to struggle into, 
 or out of, her convulsions as she may." 
 
 " Education is very desirable, no doubt," replied Charles, 
 " but let it be founded upon the Bible. Enlarge the human 
 mind then, with science, as much as you will, and we are 
 safe." 
 
 " Not upon the Bible," said Mr. Hollis, warmly, as he 
 turned off to another part of the room ; " and for this, I 
 have Mr. Jefferson s authority." 
 
 Mr. Marchmont had remained an interested listener to 
 the young men, without interfering in any way between 
 them. A Presbyterian himself, he was not a little pleased 
 to find that Charles Leslie was well informed upon the subject 
 on which he had been disputing with Mr. Hollis. Holding 
 out his hand to him, " I am gratified, young gentleman," he 
 said, " at the manner you have supported so good a cause. 
 Your ground is firm : I have never myself met any one 
 upon it, who can shake it, Your opponent replied by call 
 ing the Puritans fanatics. I have often had the same 
 answer myself." 
 
 4 
 
74 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " I am a very poor advocate for so great a cause, Mr. 
 Marchmont," replied Charles, " and rarely undertake it ; 
 but as Mr. Hollis seemed to seek the dispute, I would not 
 decline it." 
 
 The conversation which had just taken place, was within 
 hearing of Mrs. Marchmont, Clara, and Lucy. The ear 
 nestness with which it was carried on, and Mr. March- 
 mont s continued attention to it, had gradually engaged 
 theirs also. " Did you hear that, girls ?" said Mrs. March 
 mont. " Whoever gets Mr. Hollis, will get a man who is 
 to secure her happiness by the dignity of human nature, 
 not by the influence of Christianity upon himself. You 
 are exposed here, my child," she added seriously, turning 
 to Lucy, " in a way that I did not expect, or I should 
 hardly have let you come." 
 
 " I am in no danger, mamma," replied Lucy, " from Mr. 
 Hollis, or his dignity, or infidelity." 
 
 Clara, too, had listened to the dispute between the rivals, 
 as well as heard Mr. Marchmont s commendation of 
 Charles, which some remains of her first attachment made 
 yet sound pleasant to her. Her judgment, too, fully ad 
 mitted the soundness of the principles he contended for, as 
 alone conducive to happiness ; but her pride combated 
 violently against their practical application. Strange per 
 versity of our nature, which Christianity only can explain, 
 that the understanding may be convinced, yet the will 
 refuse its assent ! 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 75 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 IT is a matter of deep interest to observe the variety 
 and intenseness of the feelings which are constantly opera 
 ting upon the human mind. The passions are incessantly 
 at war with reason and conscience in the acquisition of 
 whatever object happiness is supposed to consist in. With 
 the mere man of the world, who pursues the world as his 
 first, and last, and sole enjoyment, the passions have the 
 full mastery over better and more ennobling motives. But 
 with the professor of religion it is otherwise. He dare not 
 pursue any object whatever, but with reference to the 
 Divine government ; and though he may, and often does 
 suffer, like the martyr at the stake, he still cries out, 
 " Though he slay me, yet will I trust in him ;" or, in the 
 language of his great High Priest, " Not my will, but thine 
 be done." Perhaps, in those trials which so thickly beset 
 our road through life, there are few that induce severer 
 sufferings than those that spring from attachments deeply 
 fixed. In such, there is something of a communion of 
 mind perfectly intelligible to each, often without even the 
 intervention of language. The thoughts that spring up in 
 one heart, are instantly seized upon by the other, and the 
 desire and effort to please, is as contemporaneous, as it is 
 mutual. A bitter thing it is, when worldly, selfish motives 
 
76 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 are suffered to separate two hearts thus united ; but very 
 pleasant it is, when after trials long and severe, though 
 better fitting them for each other, they are, at last, united 
 by a Providence, as unfailing in its watchfulness, as it is 
 unceasing in its goodness. 
 
 " Give space, Agnes," said Charles, after Mr. Marchmont 
 had left him : and he seated himself between her and 
 Lucy. 
 
 " Charles," said Agnes, " I have heard a sad account of 
 you, from a lady of my acquaintance in Georgetown." 
 
 " What is it ?" he inquired. " Nothing improper, I 
 hope." 
 
 " Very hard-hearted on your part, any how," she replied. 
 " It is, of the decided preference a lady has shown for you, 
 and the cold manner in which you have received it." 
 
 Charles found himself embarrassed. " It is not worth 
 while to reply seriously to such a charge," said he. " I do 
 not expect, or wish for advances on the part of any lady ; 
 that would be to reverse, as Mr. Jefferson says, the order 
 of antecedent relations." 
 
 " You see, Lucy," said Agnes, laughing, " he does not 
 deny it, but only evades it. But you had no business to 
 tell it, Charles." 
 
 " I never did," he replied. Desirous of changing the 
 subject, he turned upon Agnes. 
 
 " I see what you are after," said he. " You know I 
 promised to wait for you, and you are now afraid I shall 
 remind you of it. How is it, Miss Marchmont ? Can you 
 tell me who is my rival ?" 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 77 
 
 " Not positively, as yet," replied Lucy ; " but I can guess 
 and calculate about it." 
 
 " Then I see from your expressions," said Charles, " that 
 it must be some gentleman from down East. You faith 
 less Agnes, to give me up so soon ! Are you not afraid 
 that I shall drown myself?" 
 
 " Not in the least, Charles, on my account, or on account 
 of any one else. I have been very faithful to you for four 
 years, and I think that ought to satisfy you. Besides, if I 
 happen to like another better than you, how can I help it ?" 
 
 "Very true, Agnes. Love accommodates itself to an 
 easy morality, very readily at Washington." 
 
 Their attention was now drawn to a conversation which 
 was going on between Clara, Mrs. Stanley, and the captain, 
 who had just asked Clara to waltz with him, at the ap 
 proaching Assembly. 
 
 " You must excuse me, sir," said Clara. " I do not 
 waltz." 
 
 " Not waltz !" said the captain, with surprise. " May I 
 ask the reason ?" 
 
 " I have been taught, sir," she replied, " that such ex 
 hibitions are not consistent with female decorum. Public 
 opinion, as yet at least, has put its disapprobation upon it." 
 
 " Public opinion is a fool," said Mrs. Stanley. " Let me 
 advise you, Miss Sydenham, to disregard it, as I do. I 
 follow or adopt what I like, and leave it to others to say 
 what they like. There can be no greater tyranny than the 
 old-fashioned notions about decorum, propriety, public 
 opinion, and such like." 
 
 " That is a road, Mrs. Stanley," said Clara, " which I am 
 
78 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 not disposed to walk in. There are but a few steps be 
 tween a disregard of propriety and the absence of any." 
 
 " This is prudery, downright, Miss Sydenham," replied 
 Mrs. Stanley. " I had hoped that the society at Washing 
 ton had by this time rubbed out the rustic notions you 
 brought here ; and I think that Captain Jackson has cause 
 to consider himself as insulted by your refusal." 
 
 " Captain Jackson must judge of that for himself, 
 madam," said Clara ; " but no doubt he will recollect, that 
 the objection was to the dance only." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley had formed a very false estimate of Clara s 
 character, and held in contempt the principles of propriety 
 which the ladies of the olden times early inculcated into 
 their daughters. She little expected, therefore, the pointed 
 refusal to be influenced by her, that Clara had evinced; 
 and was, moreover, piqued by the imputation upon herself, 
 which Clara s expressions had plainly implied. With dis 
 gust in her manner, and muttered terms about ignorance of 
 society and prudery, she rose and went to another part of 
 the room. The captain kept his seat, and continued the 
 conversation with Clara, who, too well bred to give any 
 evidence that she considered what had passed, as person 
 ality, made an effort, by her usual urbanity of manners, to 
 show him that she was willing to treat him with the polite 
 ness which the rules of society required. But this only 
 confirmed him in the opinion that he was advancing to 
 wards the attainment of his object, to which he had deter 
 mined to make either Clara or Lucy subservient. In this, 
 however, he was mistaken. His attentions to each had 
 been alike particular, as opportunities offered ; and when 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 79 
 
 they retired to their room at night, never failed to be com 
 mented upon, laughed at, and communicated to Mrs. 
 Marchmont. As yet, all his batteries had made no impres 
 sion whatever upon the citadels, either of which he now 
 thought he might summon to surrender. 
 
 But while these operations were going on in one quarter, 
 whence Charles Leslie had apprehended so much danger, 
 one of a more serious nature was rapidly rising in another, 
 which he had not thought of. Cold as Mr. Hollis appeared 
 to be, he was, however, extremely sensitive to female love 
 liness, and the charms of female conversation, directed by 
 a fine judgment, and enlivened by a wit that could amuse 
 him. In the course of this evening, Charles Leslie had 
 observed, for the first time, his close attentions to Clara, 
 and a pang had shot through his heart. He saw plainly 
 that all his fears might soon be realized. To a man of Mr. 
 Hollis s standing, there could be no objection on Clara s 
 part, unless his infidel opinions, of which he was a bold 
 asserter-upon all occasions, might cause his rejection. But 
 he had no reason to expect that they would. Clara had 
 never come under such religious influences, that he knew 
 of, which might determine her to reject a man otherwise 
 unexceptionable, merely for his disbelief of revelation. 
 He saw that the moment of deciding, whether his hope of 
 ever winning Clara, by the value she might set upon his own 
 principles, was rapidly approaching. " Be it so," he said ; 
 " let her meet the trial, and I will bear the result, for I feel 
 assured that I shall be able to do it. Dear as she is to me 
 still, mixed up as she has long been with every thought 
 of happiness on earth I have had for years, I would not 
 
80 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 wish to call her mine, unless she believed and felt that the 
 religious principles I profess are those, and those only, 
 which could best secure her happiness." 
 
 Clara, on her part, had begun to be sensible to her own 
 position as it regarded Mr. Hollis. A woman s tact was 
 at no loss to discover the meaning of attentions, which 
 had now become too particular to be any longer misunder 
 stood, and her pride was operating powerfully with her, 
 to influence the decision. A man of character and stand 
 ing, she saw was soon to be at her feet : an elevated posi 
 tion in society would be secured by a connection with him ; 
 and what more could she expect ? It might then be con 
 sidered as foolish to refuse an offer so eligible, and which 
 might not soon, if ever, be made again by any one. True, 
 his infidel opinions alarmed her in some degree ; for though 
 brought up in a way that gave her no clear insight into the 
 nature of Christianity until she had heard Charles Leslie 
 explain it to her mother, his words upon that occasion had 
 sunk deep into her heart, and the internal monitor was now 
 inquiring, what security she had for happiness in life with 
 a man who scoffed at the obligations imposed upon the 
 passions by the precepts of revelation. Still, her pride, 
 though the scales were yet even in the balance, seemed 
 likely to weigh the heaviest ; nor did her thoughts of 
 Charles Leslie add anything to counterbalance it. She 
 thought of him, it is true, of his long attachment ; his 
 conversation with her mother perpetually recurred to her 
 like a warning voice ; but the dissipation at Washington 
 had produced its usual effect, her mind had begun to im 
 bibe the infection the gangrene was spreading, and the 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 81 
 
 image of Mr. Hollis, if it had not actually displaced that 
 of Charles Leslie in her heart, was seated alongside of it. 
 She had, however, as yet formed no positive determination 
 upon the subject ; upon which, though she well knew that 
 her happiness depended, she was not so fully aware how 
 soon she might be called upon to decide it. 
 
 Mr. Hollis, on his part, had been no careless observer of 
 what had been passing before him. His apprehensions, 
 first excited by the captain s assiduities, had been quieted 
 with respect to him, only to be more keenly aroused by 
 his observing that Charles Leslie held frequent conversa 
 tions with Clara. But his penetration was completely at 
 fault to ascertain whether Clara, received him as a candi 
 date for her heart, or merely as an old and valued acquaint 
 ance of her family. Still under the influence of the feel 
 ing of mortification he had sustained in his dispute with 
 Charles upon the progress of civil liberty, he determined 
 to draw something from Clara by which he might discover 
 their relative positions. Taking a vacant seat by her, in 
 the course of the evening, and engaging her attention for 
 a short time, by varying it with remarks respecting Mr. 
 Longfield, and Mr. O Connor, " And there is Mr. Leslie," 
 said he, directing Clara s attention towards Charles, who 
 was again conversing with Mr. Marchmont ; " he is, I 
 believe, Miss Sydenham, an acquaintance of yours. Is he 
 from the same part of Maryland as your father ?" 
 
 " He is," Clara replied, " an old acquaintance : that is, 
 ever since he left college. His family is of the same 
 county as ours, and, I may add, one of the oldest and most 
 
 respectable in it." 
 
 4* 
 
82 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " I find that he is in a subordinate situation here," said 
 Mr. Hollis, dexterously bringing his own in contrast with 
 that of Charles. " It is often an unpleasant thing to me to 
 find, that greater distinctions are not made in company at 
 Washington. Do you not think that the reception is too 
 general ?" 
 
 " I have never thought about it," replied Clara. " It has 
 been sufficient for me, hitherto, that I have been pleased 
 with the company at our house, and I have left it to better 
 judgments to say who should compose it." 
 
 " Am I to understand you," he asked, " that Mr. Leslie s 
 visits are particularly agreeable ? For my part," he added, 
 " it would be more agreeable that he carried his puritanical 
 notions elsewhere." 
 
 " Mr. Leslie," Clara replied, " has the power to be very 
 agreeable, or disagreeable, as he pleases : or, as to the 
 latter, perhaps it may be that his plain and pointed con 
 demnation of what he considers wrong in morals, never 
 fails to make him so to others." 
 
 " I find his ideas a mass of absurdity," said Mr. Hollis. 
 " Christianity, upon which he is for building everything, is 
 driven out from William and Mary, as I hope it soon will 
 be from the world, which it has burdened with opinions, 
 superstitious, fanatical, or subversive of the dignity of 
 human nature." 
 
 Finding himself defeated in his object by Clara s guarded 
 answers, he turned into a different channel ; where his 
 powers of conversation, intermingled with delicate atten 
 tions, soon effaced the feeling of apprehension which the 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 83 
 
 expression of his hatred of Christianity had excited for a 
 moment. And thus it is in this strange world ! Our elec 
 tion of good or evil is constantly presented to us, and " we 
 stand in jeopardy every hour." Nor can ignorance be 
 pleaded. The contending principles are within us, inces 
 santly engaged in the struggle, to which we can no more 
 be unconscious, than we can be to our natural existence. 
 " Fearfully and wonderfully are we made," and who is 
 there that breathes, that at some period or other of life, 
 has not known the place and hour when, in this awful con 
 test, he was either conqueror or conquered ! 
 
 It so happened, from the position in which Charles Les 
 lie stood, talking with Mr. Marchmont, that he had heard 
 Mr. Hollis s denunciation of Christianity, and it had led 
 him to notice his close attentions to Clara, and their effect. 
 His apprehensions were now greatly increased ; and he 
 determined to have a conversation with her as soon as he 
 could, and warn her, as far as propriety would allow him 
 to do so, of the consequences that might result from her 
 placing her happiness in the power of a man, who, with all 
 the pride of a native of the Old Dominion afloat in his 
 composition, had superadded upon it the still more excep 
 tionable dogmas of infidelity, unhappily then too prevalent 
 in Virginia, and indeed elsewhere. A moment s reflection, 
 however, showed him that he would have no chance for 
 this, for some time to come. An Assembly was soon to 
 take place, to be followed by a party at the Secretary of 
 State s, and successively at other dignitaries ; and he thus 
 found himself compelled to await, as well as he could, the 
 
84 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 end of all this round of dissipation. With quite as much 
 upon his mind, of fears, internal agitation, and conflicting 
 emotions as he could well bear, he soon afterwards left the 
 room. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 85 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " SEE, captain," said Mr. Lewis, as he entered the room 
 on the evening he returned from Vanderhorn s, " you have 
 dropped something out of your hat ; a glove, I think. Is 
 it un gage de bataille which you have picked up, or un 
 gage d? amour which you have received ? Be it which it 
 may, you are making your way, I find, in our city." 
 
 " I would rather consider it as the latter," replied the 
 captain, " and perhaps you will think it is so, when you 
 look at the size of it." 
 
 " It is a lady s, indeed," said Mr. Lewis ; " a trophy won 
 already, captain ? You carry on operations like a French 
 general of these days, or like Csesar of old, who could 
 write to the Roman Senate, * veni, vidi, vici. I had some 
 thoughts of entering the lists with you myself this winter, 
 but your brisk movements have somewhat daunted me. 
 Perhaps, however, I may turn your flank, though I may 
 not be able to meet you in front. May I know the name 
 of the owner of the glove ?" 
 
 " How can you ask it ?" replied the captain, gayly. " I 
 keep those matters secret. It is accident only that has put 
 you in possession of the knowledge you have : an engage 
 ment only with the fair owner would justify me in giving 
 her name." 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " If that is your position," replied Mr. Lewis, " I do not 
 despair of beating you yet. Many a battle that has been 
 thought to be won, has been lost after all." 
 
 " The commanders then," said the captain, " must have 
 had but little experience or skill in their profession. The 
 first impression should be followed up, and bringing for 
 ward all the reserved forces at the critical moment, the 
 enemy must then yield." 
 
 * Operations with ladies, at least in this city," replied Mr. 
 Lewis, " do not altogether resemble those of a field of 
 battle. The reserve on their side consists of cool-headed, 
 or calculating, or covetous, or ambitious fathers, who can 
 create a rout from a quarter whence an attack was not 
 expected." 
 
 " I am under no apprehensions from any of them." 
 
 " Don t be too sure," said Mr. Lewis ; " you may meet 
 with your match yet, and more than your match. The 
 ladies at Washington are of the highest style of fashion, 
 accomplishments, and intellect, in our country, and are not 
 such an easy conquest as you may suppose." 
 
 " So much the more honor," replied the captain, with 
 great consequence of manner, " in carrying off one of 
 them. It would be a greater conquest than seizing a pair 
 of colors in the heat of an engagement." 
 
 " I am curious to see the result of your campaign, I 
 confess, and think I shall be able at the Assembly to judge 
 better of your talents. But I repeat to you, do not be too 
 confident." 
 
 " Very well," replied the captain, " then we meet again 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 87 
 
 at Philippi. Make your observations, and you will admit 
 that my confidence is well founded." 
 
 Mr. Lewis was a gentleman of high character, who had 
 served abroad in a public situation of considerable trust. 
 He had been residing in Washington for some time past, 
 awaiting a new appointment which had been promised to 
 him. He was well acquainted with the world, lively, full 
 of wit and anecdote, and unexceptionable in his deportment 
 throughout. He possessed an almost intuitive perception 
 of the weak side of a man s character ; and discovering in 
 a moment the excessive vanity which marked captain Jack 
 son s, determined to affect a disbelief of his powers of 
 attracting and fixing the beauty assembled at Washington, 
 and thus lead him to display more conspicuously a weakness 
 too prevalent with military men. 
 
 The breakfast table was scarcely cleared away the next 
 morning, when Mrs. Stanley drove up to the door, and 
 inquired for Captain Jackson. He immediately went down 
 to her, and after some short conversation with her at the 
 carriage, handed her out, and then led her to the drawing- 
 room, which was now vacant. 
 
 " I wished to see you, George," she said, " to learn from 
 you what prospects you have here. Are you confident of 
 making interest with the Government ? Appearances for 
 an increase of the army, I learn from good authority, are 
 more and more promising. Have you decided, as yet, 
 how to make the interest you will need, most available ? 
 Friends are absolutely necessary everywhere, when any 
 thing is to be obtained in the nature of appointments ; and 
 young as our government is, you may be sure that it 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 is as necessary here, as it is at the Tuilleries, or at St. 
 James s." 
 
 " I know of no mode," he replied, " by which my wishes 
 could be furthered, better than by that I mentioned when I 
 first called upon you. Both Mr. Marchmont and Mr. Syd- 
 enham have no small interest here, and I am carrying on 
 my movements with the young ladies with very fair pros 
 pects of success. But I think you went too far with Miss 
 Sydenham the last evening. It might be more prudent not 
 to lay open to her your own opinions, with so little disguise." 
 
 " I am very independent, as you know," said the lady, 
 " in thinking, speaking, and acting ; and I have found 
 women enough here ready imitators in all. But I saw 
 you in close conversation with Miss Sydenham after I left 
 you, and afterwards with Miss Marchmont. To which of 
 them do you intend to apply your most vigorous opera 
 tions ?" 
 
 " I can hardly say yet to which," he replied, " nor, to 
 speak out, do I much care. Probably the Assembly may 
 decide it. It will be an exciting time, and an excitable 
 company. I do not think that any place presents such 
 opportunities for close attentions and impressions, as par 
 ties where music, dancing, wine, and dress are all found, 
 and are all combined to put the blood in rapid circulation. 
 Upon an occasion like that near at hand, I make no ques 
 tion that I could form an engagement with both of the 
 ladies, in the course of the evening, and half a dozen more 
 besides. Do you think that these Assemblies are for any 
 purpose on earth, but to assist young people to fall in love, 
 as it is called, with one another ?" 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " And to give older people opportunities of profiting by 
 their follies," said Mrs. Stanley. " Many a time have I 
 laughed heartily at the vexation plainly seen, under the 
 most mortifying disappointments that the mothers and 
 daughters have met with, in finding the arrows aimed at 
 the breast of one gentleman, fall harmless at his feet, or 
 strike another, not thought of, nor cared for. And all this 
 planning and scheming carried on under the pretence of 
 amusement, of seeing Congress in session, or of dining at 
 the President s. And these mothers are so nice, that they 
 forbid some particular kinds of dances, and the daughters 
 are so dutiful as to obey ! It is all affectation, depend upon 
 it. Their coming here is proof against them ; and they 
 might Justus well stick up a notice, Two daughters just 
 arrived, and ready to be disposed of in marriage. Inquire 
 within. Real virtue, if there be any such thing, does not 
 seek temptation in order to test its strength, and would 
 even shun dissipation as dangerous. You may, then, I 
 assure you again, consider the women as waiting to jump 
 into your arms ; and you, in that mode, may jump into the 
 command of a regiment." 
 
 ** I hope so," said the captain, " and hope it may be soon. 
 In fact, my leave of absence will be out in two weeks at 
 furthest, and I have had a pretty plain hint already from 
 the War Department, that my presence with the regiment 
 would be more agreeable than it is at Washington. I 
 must therefore make all the dispatch I can, in securing 
 interest ; I can then leave the city with confidence, and my 
 engagement standing over. After all, I begin to find my 
 feelings somewhat concerned in my success, as well as 
 
90 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 my interest. Both these ladies are so showy and accom 
 plished, that I should fall in love, as it is called, if such a 
 thing could happen to me." 
 
 " As to that, George," replied Mrs. Stanley, " you could 
 not do a more foolish thing. A man, who knows as much 
 of the world as you do, should be done with such feelings, 
 and with talking such nonsense. Advancement in life is 
 the great object, and the manner of securing it the main 
 thing to be looked to." 
 
 " You know very well," said the captain, " that I agree 
 with you in these matters. But how do you get on with 
 your claims upon the Government ?" 
 
 " Not to my satisfaction as yet," she replied. ** There 
 is an indisposition to act upon such cases at present.. I 
 have, however, promises of an appointment abroad for 
 Henry." 
 
 " That is something, however," said the captain. " I see 
 you are much waited upon by Senators and members of 
 the House : I suppose you obtained their interest with the 
 President." 
 
 " Never mind, George," replied the lady, " how I man 
 age : see to your own concerns." 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 91 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 IT was but a short time before this, that Burr s conspir 
 acy, as it was then called, had been completely put down, 
 and a fair prospect presented itself that both France and 
 Great Britain would cease to harass our commerce, and 
 violate our rights. The Government had evidently gained 
 strength by the first ; the realization of the second would 
 have confirmed the wisdom of Mr. Jefferson s pacific poli 
 cy : but it was not destined to be so. The company at 
 Vanderhorn s were all assembled in the drawing-room, 
 when the servant announced Mr. Randolph. This cele 
 brated man was now in the opposition, and as conversation, 
 wherever he might be, necessarily led to politics, a long 
 discussion took place, in which the Virginian did not fail 
 to give vent to the ill-humor which he felt against the 
 administration. Growing tired at length, he withdrew 
 from the congressional circle, which was still discussing 
 subjects bearing upon the future prospects and glory of the 
 Union, and joining the ladies, had engaged in an animated 
 conversation with them. Lucy had just executed some 
 pieces of Italian music, by Rossini, in elegant style, to 
 which he had been listening. When she had finished, 
 " Thank you, Miss Marchmont," he said, " for your fine 
 execution, which is all, in this kind of music, I am able to 
 
92 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 judge of; though passionately fond of simple melodies, 
 which, accompanied by fine sentiments, reach the heart." 
 
 " Of what nation, Mr. Randolph," inquired Clara, " is 
 your favorite music, and what pieces ?" 
 
 " The Scotch, by all means, Miss Sydenham," he replied. 
 " None other affect me so powerfully ; and of all that I 
 have heard, the beautiful song of John Anderson, my Jo, 
 John, is my favorite." He then repeated the last verses 
 in his inimitable manner. 
 
 " John Anderson, my Jo, John, 
 
 Frae year to year we ve past, 
 And soon the year maun come, John, 
 
 Will bring us to our last : 
 But let na that affright us, John, 
 
 Our hearts were ne er our foe, 
 While in innocent delight we ve lived, 
 
 John Anderson, my Jo. 
 
 " John Anderson, my Jo, John, 
 
 We clamb the hill thegither, 
 And mony a canty day, John, 
 
 We ve had wi ane anither. 
 Now we maun totter down, John, 
 
 But hand in hand we ll go, 
 And we ll sleep thegither at the foot, 
 
 John Anderson, my Jo." 
 
 He then requested Clara to sing and play it. She im 
 mediately took her seat at the piano, and in the execution 
 of the music, and in her fine voice, did equal justice to the 
 poet and the composer. She then turned over the leaves 
 of her music-book, and played and sang other pieces of a 
 similar character, while this man of many passions stood ab- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 93 
 
 sorbed in the emotions which had thus been aroused within 
 him. 
 
 " Many thanks to you, Miss Sydenham," he said, when 
 Clara arose from her seat, " for the pleasure which you 
 have given to me. It is matter of surprise to me, that any 
 other description of music should ever have superseded 
 these simple and artless appeals to the heart, for which, in 
 my opinion, the Scotch songs are unrivalled." 
 
 " And yet, the professional man," said Mrs. Marchmont, 
 " receives little gratification from simple melodies, while 
 his whole soul will seem to be engrossed by the long and 
 complex pieces of Italian or German music." 
 
 " Very true, madam," replied Mr. Randolph ; " that is 
 the metaphysics of music, of which very few, comparatively, 
 can know anything. But simple music, with appropriate 
 sentiments, finds its way to the heart universally, and 
 arouses up its best feelings, by recalling vividly to the mind 
 the hours of our youth, when the world had neither cheat 
 ed us by its falsehood, nor vitiated us by its maxims. If a 
 man never knew sentiment in youth, I doubt if he could 
 ever feel the power of music in more advanced life." 
 
 " You speak of music, Mr. Randolph," returned Mrs. 
 Marchmont, " as if it might be useful even to men. It has 
 generally been considered as an accomplishment, and 
 nothing more, for a lady to while away an hour or two in 
 amusing with sweet sounds, some young gentleman who 
 was not able to amuse her with agreeable conversation." 
 
 " Yes, madam, useful to man, certainly/ he replied. 
 " Whatever tends to humanize, to soften him, is useful to 
 him ; for in my conscience, I think he is a very hard sub- 
 
94 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 ject. Fine music from a fine woman, would have more 
 effect than almost anything else that could be brought to 
 bear upon his barbarism. You see how much power I 
 attribute to the ladies." 
 
 " Thanks for your good opinion," said Mrs. Marchmont. 
 " But your expressions/me needs explanation. What do 
 you comprehend in it, Mr. Randolph?" 
 
 ** A knowledge of all the duties, madam," he replied, 
 * that belong to a woman in her station as a wife, mother, 
 and mistress ; and this knowledge founded upon Chris 
 tianity. That will constitute a fine woman ; and all may 
 thus be fine women. Add to it, if you please, the adven 
 titious accomplishments of music and drawing, provided 
 there be natural talents for their acquisition ; and the 
 French and Italian languages, if there be a fondness for 
 extensive reading. I think this will do ; for the ornamental 
 will then be combined with what is useful. The female 
 mind having thus resources of its own, and the woman, 
 having her appropriate avocations, will have no wish to 
 seek what is called pleasure, out of her own domestic circle." 
 
 " You have omitted dancing, Mr. Randolph, in your list 
 of accomplishments," said Mrs. Stanley. 
 
 " It was designedly done, madam," he replied. " I do 
 not consider it an accomplishment in a lady. The ease 
 of manners, which, it is generally supposed, is acquired by 
 a knowledge of dancing, is all artificial, and very different 
 from that arising from a consciousness of innate propriety. 
 The lady, whose manners are formed by dancing, is noted 
 for an over-sprightliness a hop-and-skip sort of motion, 
 an effort to attract attention ; while, also, the movements, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON, 95 
 
 changes of posture, motions of the limbs, and familiarities 
 sanctioned by the figures of the dance, have no very favor 
 able tendency, in my opinion, to preserve the maidenly 
 diffidence which so greatly enhances the charms of female 
 loveliness. In a word, I detest it ; nor can I see it, but in 
 my imagination, I see the dancing girls of the East." 
 
 " This is very severe, Mr. Randolph," said Mrs. Stanley. 
 
 " But it is just, madam," he replied. " The welfare of 
 society rests upon female influence in a far greater degree 
 than is generally supposed ; and female education, in every 
 way, should be of such firm texture, that it cannot be torn, 
 or worn out. No tinsel for women s minds. This is my 
 opinion ; for it is unquestionable, that the first principles 
 of good or of evil are ingrafted into the young heart by 
 maternal instruction, or suffered to grow up there by ma 
 ternal neglect. I perfectly remember my own mother, 
 when she called me to her, and explaining to me, in lan 
 guage suited to my age, my relation to the Supreme Being 
 as my Creator and Father, made me kneel and place my 
 little hands together, while she taught me the comprehen 
 sive prayer which our Lord gave for the instruction of 
 mankind. This was the first lesson, followed up by others, 
 as I grew older ; and the impressions, thus made, nothing, 
 as yet, has effaced. No : I do not estimate too highly, the 
 influence of woman upon society ; nor am I too severe 
 upon any sort of education which might tend to lessen 
 their favorable influence upon morals, by substituting what 
 are called accomplishments, in place of real virtues." 
 
 Mrs. Stanley was now quite willing to escape from this 
 severe censor, and changed the subject by remarking, 
 
96 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " That neither music nor painting had yet produced any 
 thing amongst us, which gave promise that we should hand 
 down to posterity, through them, the events of the war of 
 our Independence." 
 
 " Very little, as yet, madam," replied Mr. Randolph. 
 * What Trumbull has produced in historical painting is of 
 a very mediocre description, and his pencil is all we have, 
 in that line. In music, we have two marches, and Yankee 
 Doodle ; and I believe that is all. But the fine arts will 
 certainly flourish here, in one generation more ; for it is 
 necessary that the events, or persons intended to be com 
 memorated by historical painting, or by music, should be 
 shrouded over by some antiquity, at least. Our revolu 
 tionary war will present a vast field for future historians, 
 novelists, painters, poets, and musicians, and the national 
 genius appear in a light to gratify our highest ambition." 
 
 Rising from his seat as he was speaking, he bowed to 
 the ladies, and was going to the door, when he espied 
 Charles Leslie, who had been some time in the room, in 
 conversation with Mr. Marchmont. He immediately 
 turned and went to him. Charles had been introduced to 
 Mr. Randolph by Captain Decatur, and was greatly struck 
 with his new acquaintance. The perfect ease of his man 
 ners, his power of putting others at ease in his company, 
 his varied conversation, suited to the highest capacity, or 
 adapting itself to the lowest, was as novel to Charles as it 
 was interesting. He had never, he thought, seen a man to 
 compare to him in manners or conversation. After talking 
 a few moments longer with Charles, he left the room, de 
 clining Mr. Marchmont s invitation to supper, as he had, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 97 
 
 he said, " some arguments to arrange for his speech the 
 next morning ;" for which, by the rules of the House, he 
 had the floor. 
 
 Clara had noticed what was passing, and had observed 
 the estimation in which gentlemen of high distinction ap 
 peared to hold her first admirer. With Mr. Marchmont 
 she knew that he was a favorite, and she had just seen 
 that Mr. Randolph had honored him with his attention. 
 Although she had been flattered, and her pride gratified by 
 Mr. Hollis s assiduities, which were daily more and more 
 plain, they had not effaced the feelings of preference which 
 Charles Leslie had once excited. She was continually 
 comparing him in her mind, with her new suitor, and the 
 balance would at once have preponderated in his favor, 
 but for his religious opinions.- She had determined for 
 some days past, to put his principles to the test, by asking 
 him to go to the Assembly. " Perhaps," she said to her 
 self, " the society at Washington may have made him less 
 rigid in his notions : I wish I had an opportunity to talk 
 with him. If he consents to go, I am decided." 
 
 Charles, on his part, sought a conversation with her 
 more anxiously than she did with him. He had observed 
 Mr. Hollis s attentions to her with extreme apprehension, 
 and was very desirous of knowing, if he could, how far 
 they were well-founded. But this was no easy matter, 
 for his rival was constantly near her, and engrossing her 
 attention in every way he could. Charles had been on the 
 watch, for some time, for a vacant seat near her, but to no 
 purpose. If one seat was empty, Mr. Hollis, as if deter 
 mined to prevent a conversation, obstinately kept his posi- 
 
98 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 tion. " Lucy," whispered Clara to her, " you know that I 
 have two admirers in the room : I wish to have some con 
 versation with one whom I see a little way off, and I wish 
 you to amuse the other who is close by, while I do so. 
 Do, pray, help me in my difficulty ; and if ever you get in 
 the like, let me know, and I will do you the same good 
 turn." 
 
 " I am not so well off as you are, Clara," replied Lucy, 
 laughing, " as to have two to manage : in fact, I have quite 
 enough to do to manage Mr. Campbell, whom, you know, 
 my good father is willing to receive as his son-in-law. 
 But as he is not here to-night, I will do all in my power to 
 assist you." 
 
 She remained quiet for a little while, and then requested 
 Mr. Hollis to explain to her some historical prints, a large 
 volume of which lay on a table on the other side of the 
 room. They accordingly went off together, and Charles 
 soon occupied Lucy s chair. 
 
 " I wished to see you, Mr. Charles Leslie," said Clara, 
 in her best manner. " I have a request to make of you. 
 Will you grant it ?" 
 
 " I don t know : I must first be informed what it is." 
 
 "Do you think I would make an improper one?" she 
 asked. 
 
 " You would not, if you were at home," Charles replied. 
 " I cannot answer for what Washington may have already 
 done with you." 
 
 " Your confidence in me then is lowered : is it so ?" 
 
 " Waive all that at present," Charles replied, " and let me 
 know your wishes." 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 99 
 
 " The Assembly takes place," she said, " the day after 
 to-morrow, and it is the the first at which Agnes and my 
 self will have been since our arrival in the city. I feel 
 nervous already at the thoughts of it. An old acquaintance 
 like you, would assist much towards removing the embar 
 rassment which we expect to feel upon such a novel oc 
 casion. We have been, Charles, at many a ball together 
 during our Jong acquaintance, and I request you will be at 
 this. Will you go with us ? Now, don t refuse ; I am 
 really anxious for it." 
 
 Charles, affecting a very demure manner, told her " he 
 was too old." 
 
 " Do answer me," she said ; " will you go with us ?" 
 
 Charles still continued his manner, with some dash of 
 badinage. " I have not time, Clara," said he, " to fix upon 
 my dress for such a brilliant occasion. My silk inner vests, 
 and red cuffs, which made us cut so fine a figure when I 
 was a young man, are all gone ; and now I think of it, I 
 do not believe that I have a single pair of silk stockings 
 left. And as to another part of my wardrobe, verily, they 
 too have disappeared before the new fashion. Why did 
 you not ask me two weeks since ?" 
 
 " Charles, this is not politeness," said Clara. " I am se 
 rious in my request, and again ask you to answer me se 
 riously." 
 
 He instantly resumed his usual manner " I shall always 
 believe whatever you say, Clara, and now, that I see that 
 you are serious in your request, answer, by expressing my 
 regret, that you are so. We have known one another for 
 a long while, and I had hoped that, by this time, you had 
 
100 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 known me well enough to be satisfied, that if I saw proper 
 to govern my conduct by religious principles, I could not 
 be made to change such determination by any one. I am 
 really sorry to find that I am lowered in your opinion." 
 
 " You have no right," Clara replied, " to put such a con 
 struction upon my request, because I do not see the force 
 of your motives principles if you will have it so." 
 
 " It would be unreasonable in me, perhaps, to expect that 
 you should, young as you are, flattered as you are, sought 
 after, as I believe you are. I make every allowance for 
 your position, but it is not the less evident, that the dissipa 
 tion of Washington has had an unfavorable influence upon 
 your mind already, and may have upon your character 
 hereafter. Now, restrain," he added, " the tokens of resent 
 ment which your face has indicated in one moment. I 
 must, and will be honest with you." 
 
 " And as harsh and unkind at Washington, as at home." 
 
 " If you will think so, you must ; but let me appeal to 
 your own heart. You are going to the Assembly in pur 
 suit of pleasure. Would it not give you greater, to go 
 and relieve the necessities of the poor widow and her two 
 grand-daughters, of whose destitute condition I was telling 
 you and Miss Marchmont, the last evening I saw you ? 
 The cost of the ornaments which you will wear at the 
 Assembly, so unnecessarily, would do this for the whole 
 winter. I appeal to your own heart to say, which would 
 afford the highest pleasure." 
 
 " Charles, Charles, this is not fair." 
 
 " But it is fair," he replied, " thus to contrast as strikingly 
 as possible, the woman of real virtue, with the mere woman 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 101 
 
 of pleasure. I appeal too, to your understanding. You 
 ask me to do what you know I should consider as a depart 
 ure from my religious principles. Were I so weak as to 
 give way, you yourself would be among the first to con 
 demn me, and if you ever respected me, you would do so 
 no longer. I appeal to yourself upon this question." 
 
 " It is not the question just now," said Clara, " as to 
 what I might think or say. Do you mean to throw your 
 self out of the society in which you have always hereto 
 fore moved ? You will lose caste utterly, in persisting in 
 your present course of life." 
 
 " I have not the least apprehension," he replied, " of 
 losing caste with that part of society which is certainly the 
 most estimable. My religious principles are well known, 
 for I never deny them, and still, I number among my 
 friends, men of high distinction, and ladies of great worth 
 and standing in society. My principles have already added 
 immensely to my happiness, and by enabling me to keep a 
 steadier course, promise even to advance my temporal in 
 terests." 
 
 " I find it no easy matter to understand you to-night," 
 said Clara : " I ask you to go to the Assembly, and you 
 give me for answer, That if you did, I would not respect 
 you. This is to make me act very inconsistently, at best." 
 
 " Your request," replied Charles, " is dictated merely by 
 the excitement of the moment. Your opinion the next 
 day, would be the result of your judgment. I am not yet 
 afraid to appeal to it, but how long it will be, I know not. 
 Washington is a place where excitement is constantly in 
 operation in the fashionable world, as well as in the politi- 
 
102 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 cal. You will not get out of it as unsophisticated as you 
 came into it." 
 
 " I may be wiser, however," she replied with emphasis. 
 
 " Little is to be gained by that," Charles replied, " if it 
 be at the expense of artlessness." 
 
 " Charles," said Clara, " all this may be very well at a 
 more advanced period of life, but what has it all to do 
 with such young persons as we are ? I wish to spend a 
 few hours agreeably, and ask you to go with us, and the 
 answer is, a long lecture on morality. Have you sent your 
 wits into the moon ?" 
 
 " Higher still, I trust," he replied. * I cannot go to the 
 Assembly. Nay, why draw yourself up to such a height ? 
 And that toss of your head ! And now, that look ! In 
 deed, I am about to lose caste with Miss Sydenham, I see, 
 if not with others." 
 
 " Perhaps so, at least," said Clara, " if you cannot have 
 your own notions, without censuring my behavior." 
 
 " You have only then to say so, with candor," replied 
 Charles, " and it shall be so. Such an interruption to a 
 long acquaintance, much of which will ever be pleasant in 
 my remembrance, go as the world may with me, must 
 needs be painful, and the more so, in finding that Clara 
 Sydenham at Washington, was not what I had known her 
 to be elsewhere. But do you see those looks this way," he 
 continued, directing her attention towards Lucy and Mr. 
 Hollis, " your gallant, admirer, what do you call him ? 
 seems to think that I am out of my place, and that you 
 might be more agreeably occupied. I will not tax your 
 patience, Clara, and you will soon have him near you. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 103 
 
 Now, open both your ears, and take all the flattery that will 
 be poured into them : believe that you are perfect that 
 you are irresistible : believe it all, for you will hear it in 
 fine language, and from a member of Congress. But when 
 you hear it all, remember this, that you are rapidly ap 
 proaching a point in your moral probation that may decide 
 your fate. Beware, how you put your happiness in the 
 power of an Infidel. Good night." 
 
 Charles then strode across the room to where Mr. Syd- 
 enham and Mr. Marchmont were standing, and after a 
 few moments conversation with them, Clara saw the door 
 close upon the tall figure of her inflexible, but true lover. 
 Charles understood her character well, and knew how to 
 apply his remarks so as to bear strongly both upon her feel 
 ings and her judgment. In this way only, he was deter 
 mined to win her, if to win her were possible. His own 
 feelings, impetuous at times, might, he was aware, occasion 
 ally lead him too far in what he might say ; but even in this 
 he might think it probable, that such exhibition of the inter 
 est he took in whatever concerned her, might not be with 
 out its effect, in increasing hers for him. Clara, on her 
 part, was gratified alike by his appeal to her judgment, as 
 to her heart ; but pride, the great fault in her character, 
 was constantly at war with her better principles. " I am 
 refused then," she thought, as the door closed upon Charles, 
 " in so trifling a matter, and that too, though I pressed my 
 request upon him. Very well, Mr. Charles Leslie, it shall 
 be one while before I put it in your power to do it again." 
 But the monitor within was still awake, and busy with her. 
 " Yes, it is so," again she thought ; " he has a right to 
 
104 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 the exercise of his own principles, as much as I have to 
 form my own wishes ; and if he had given them up merely 
 to please me, I should not have respected him as much the 
 next morning as I did the evening before. But he warns 
 me about putting my happiness in the power of an Infidel. 
 Then he is jealous of Mr. Hollis, and perhaps if I excite his 
 fears, I may make him more compliant in future. No 
 that will not do. I know him too well to expect it. He 
 will never come back to his former habits and amusements, 
 but hopes to bring me to his habits and his sources of hap 
 piness ; and that I cannot do. Then I approach, he says, 
 a point in my .moral probation which may decide my fate ! 
 What a strange effect his words always have upon me !" 
 Thus undecided, the war of the judgment and the passions 
 still raging, she could fix upon nothing determinate, but left 
 it to events, as they might arise, to decide, whether her 
 pride or her better principles should finally triumph. 
 
 For some time after Mr. Hollis had opened the prints, 
 his attention in explaining them to Lucy, was fixed upon 
 the subjects as they appeared in turning over the leaves. 
 But after awhile, portraits of distinguished characters were 
 seen, and amongst them, that of the celebrated Mary, 
 Queen of Scots. Miss Marchmont was immediately struck 
 with the likeness in the contour of the face to Clara s, and 
 calling Mr. Hollis ? s attention to it, both of them looked at 
 Clara to make the comparison. He then observed the 
 close and earnest conversation in which she was engaged 
 with Charles Leslie. The explanations of the prints in 
 stantly became vapid, the leaves were turned over rapidly, 
 and Mr. Hollis gave plain demonstrations to Lucy, that he 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 105 
 
 wished to be released. Lucy, seeing that she had given 
 Clara all the time that could be gained, and not wishing, 
 by pressing him to continue, to be suspected of the trick 
 which she had so successfully executed, rose up from the 
 table. Mr. Hollis soon re-occupied his place near Clara. 
 
 " What have you done with the young Puritan, Miss 
 Sydenham ?" he inquired of Clara. li Has he been paying 
 his devoirs to you out of the Lamentations ?" 
 
 But Clara was not yet prepared to discard her old, for 
 her new admirer. Whatever effect Mr. Hollis s attentions 
 might have produced, it was not sufficient to cause any in 
 dication on her part, that he was to reign, at once, in a 
 heart which had been, in some degree at least, once occu 
 pied by his rival. Her confidence in Charles Leslie was 
 still undiminished, and the estimation in which she plainly 
 saw that he was held by gentlemen of high standing, as a 
 promising young man, as yet, counterbalanced the weight 
 which Mr. Hollis possessed from his political position only. 
 Neither in person, manners, nor acquired knowledge, did 
 she consider him as superior to Charles. She accord 
 ingly replied in a careless manner, that " she believed he 
 had left the room, and that she did not know of any cause 
 for the lamentations referred to." 
 
 " Perhaps, then," said Mr. Hollis, " I ought to have made 
 use of a term exactly the reverse. Miss Marchmont and 
 myself were comparing the face of the Queen of Scots 
 with your own, and this caused me to observe the close, I 
 may say, the impassioned conversation which was going 
 on between you." 
 
 " Mr. Leslie," replied Clara, " has his own opinions, and 
 
106 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 his own peculiar mode of expressing them ; serious, or 
 lively, and sometimes animated. At times, I differ with 
 him : and this directly leads him to a manner which you 
 call impassioned." 
 
 " And I suppose," said Mr. Hollis, " he never fails to 
 make his remarks hinge upon his religious notions. I have 
 met with some persons in my life who held the same, but 
 none so young, nor more rigid. They are perfectly ridic 
 ulous, and suitable only to times of ignorance, when men 
 surrendered the mind to the domination of the clergy, but 
 are childish in this Age of Reason. " 
 
 Whoever has closely observed the world, will have seen 
 a strange fatuity in men when absorbed in some one sub 
 ject, in obtruding their views of it upon every occasion, 
 without considering what bearing their doing so might have 
 upon their own interest or wishes. One moment s reflec 
 tion might have led Mr. Hollis to perceive, that the open 
 and uncalled-for profession of his infidel opinions, was in 
 nowise necessary to advance his suit with Clara, but most 
 probably, might even be injurious. But led away by the 
 prevalent influence of an hatred of Christianity then oper 
 ating powerfully throughout our country, he was contin 
 ually striving upon every occasion, to throw contempt, as 
 well upon Christianity itself, as ridicule upon those who 
 professed it. 
 
 " I am not so fully acquainted with this great subject, 
 Mr. Hollis," replied Clara, " as to venture a dispute res 
 pecting it. I have been brought up to respect and believe 
 in the Scriptures, as the only sure guide to happiness in 
 this world and the next ; and I think it is fair to say, that 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 107 
 
 in arguing this question, ridicule is a poor test of its truth. 
 As to Mr. Leslie, you or others have your own right to 
 consider him as you may see fit, though I believe it will be 
 a matter of very little moment to him." 
 
 Here shone forth brightly the fine traits in Clara s char 
 acter. What she was well satisfied of, she had no hesita 
 tion in acknowledging ; nor could she sit by quietly, and 
 hear Charles Leslie stigmatized as ridiculous, even though 
 it might have been dictated by jealousy. As usual with her, 
 whenever her feelings were at all touched, her face as well 
 as voice indicated what was passing in her mind. Mr. 
 Hollis saw his mistake in a moment, and hastened to re 
 cover his ground by throwing her thoughts as rapidly as 
 he could in another direction. 
 
 " You are right, Miss Sydenham, undoubtedly," said he ; 
 " ridicule is a poor test of truth, and we will dismiss such 
 grave subjects as Christianity and Mr. Charles Leslie. But 
 indeed," he continued, deter mined to give Charles a parting 
 blow, " I can never look upon this solemn young gentle 
 man, but my mind is carried back irresistibly to the times 
 of the Roundheads in England, from whom he seems to 
 )iave gathered up his notions as well upon government as 
 religion. You will be at the Assembly this week, I hope ?" 
 
 Clara smiled at this sally, which she well understood as 
 arising from the mortification which Mr. Hollis had felt in 
 his late dispute with Charles ; but without replying to it, 
 left it with himself to consider her, if he saw proper, as 
 amused at his satire. She barely answered by saying, that 
 she intended to be at the Assembly, and that so did Lucy 
 and Agnes." 
 
108 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " It is a charming amusement in my opinion," said he. 
 " The exhilaration of spirits produced by the music -the 
 elegance of manners, we see, set off by all the embellish 
 ments of dress rthe universal disposition evinced to please 
 present a scene which I greatly admire and approve of. 
 I hardly know how a few hours could be passed more 
 pleasantly." 
 
 Clara, while he was speaking, was contrasting his opin 
 ions on this subject, with those of Charles Leslie. Nothing 
 could be more opposite. She readily detected the light 
 ness of the reasons which had been advanced for his ap 
 probation of this kind of amusement, and well knew, that 
 disappointment and mortification were as often experienced 
 at it, as pleasure. Still Mr. Hollis s remarks were in unison 
 with the feelings of youth, and with her love of novelty and 
 excitement ; and the cloud which had gathered upon her 
 brow for one moment had passed away in another. Her 
 manner instantly became that of the lady, ready to meet 
 with ease and propriety, the attentions of any one entitled 
 to the character of a gentleman, though she was still held 
 in check by her judgment, in concurring fully with Mr. 
 Hollis s high commendation. 
 
 " The Assemblies are very exciting certainly," she re 
 plied, " but upon the whole, not so much so, I think, as the 
 Theatre. The scenes and sentiments in theatrical repre 
 sentations leave more lasting impressions, and if tender, or 
 even terrific, as in deep tragedy, give more to think of af 
 terwards, than all that passes at an Assembly." 
 
 " Perhaps not always, Miss Sydenham," said Mr. Hollis. 
 " Many an offer of a gentleman s hand, (I do not mean for 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 109 
 
 a dance only,) has been made at the Assembly ; and this 
 would give a lady something to think of afterwards, more 
 interesting to herself personally, than anything could be in 
 the best of Shakspeare s plays." 
 
 " An offer of the hand, Mr. Hollis !" said Clara. 
 
 " Ah ! Miss Sydenham," he replied, " that includes every 
 thing a gentleman has to offer. I hope you do not suppose 
 it possible we could be so base as to mean less than this." 
 
 " I have had very few thoughts, sir, upon the subject." 
 
 " Pardon me," he replied, " but I had supposed the gal 
 lant captain had compelled from you already some thoughts 
 upon this subject." 
 
 " Oh !" said Clara gayly, and laughing, " you have en 
 tirely mistaken the object of the captain s aspirations. 
 Lucy must answer to that." 
 
 " I am happy to find myself mistaken, Miss Sydenham," 
 replied Mr. Hollis. 
 
 He was here upon the point of pressing the same ques 
 tion as to Charles Leslie ; but having been so lately com 
 pelled to quit that ground, he knew not how to seize upon 
 it again. It might, too, have carried him too far. He was 
 not yet prepared to offer himself, as he had received no 
 evidence on Clara s part that she was ready to accept him 
 if he did. Determined to make his approaches with all the 
 skill he was master of, he contented himself for the present, 
 with this indirect avowal of his sentiments, and then chang 
 ing the subject, did his best to amuse Clara by descrip 
 tions of the society at Washington, particularly of some 
 distinguished ladies from his own state, with whom he was 
 intimate. At times, he contrived to throw in some well- 
 
110 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 turned compliment to the fair girl ; and yet would do so in 
 a manner to which the most fastidious delicacy could not 
 object. It would be absurd to say, that his address and 
 management were all lost upon Clara. She saw that her 
 company was sought after by a man of standing in what 
 was called high life ; she w r as sensible of his powers of 
 conversation whenever he pleased to exert them, and flat 
 tered by the compliments which he had so dexterously ap 
 plied to her vanity. The poison had been imbibed, and 
 time was to show what consequences were to follow. At 
 the moment it was plain, that her unbending first lover had 
 lost ground to his dexterous and cunning rival ; and such is 
 still the course of things at Washington, where flattery still 
 operates in this generation, as it did in the last, and will in 
 the next where compliments are substituted for sincerity 
 where the unsophisticated girl is taught all the arts of 
 attracting admiration and barters her once pure and still 
 young heart, for wealth, and the gratification of her vanity, 
 in a connection with a man known only for his political 
 standing, or for his money. 
 
 The company was now retiring rapidly, and Clara, ris 
 ing from her seat, wished Mr. Hollis a good night, with a 
 smile, which few, upon whom such were directed, could 
 meet with indifference. He returned it with much gal 
 lantry, and felt no small share of complacency at the suc 
 cess which he saw he had just obtained in his endeavors to 
 please her. 
 
 Charles Leslie had reached, an hour before, his own -soli 
 tary room, and was thinking intently upon his conversation 
 with Clara, and deeply regretting to find the effect which the 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. Ill 
 
 company at Washington was making upon her character. 
 A few weeks only had been sufficient to change, as he 
 thought, the diffident, retiring girl, shrinking even from the 
 gaze of admiration which her personal advantages rarely 
 failed to excite, into the mere woman of fashion and of the 
 world ; seeking universal attention, and often playing with 
 the feelings which she endeavored to arouse. True," he 
 thought, " this might be an harsh judgment ; but still he 
 feared it was just." Then again, he felt irritated that she 
 could have thought so meanly of him, as to think that he 
 would give up his principles to her wishes. " But go on," 
 he said, giving vent to his feelings in words, " go on, and 
 meet your fate, if you will have it so. Suffer under it. I 
 must, I know and suffer under it, I will, sooner than 
 abandon a hope which even now is more precious than all 
 this world can give. Beloved as lovely, may you yet 
 escape the snares in your path, and know this hope as 
 I do." 
 
112 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 GOOD morning. Captain Jackson," said Mr. Levis, as the 
 captain took his seat at the breakfast-table. " But what is 
 the matter with you ? Your countenance betokens as 
 much chagrin as if the Spaniards had routed your com 
 pany." 
 
 The captain returned the salutation, and then told Mr. 
 Levis, that " he was ordered to join his regiment, and that 
 it greatly interfered with matters of much moment to him/ 
 
 <(i Why not then," said Levis, " so inform the Secretary 
 of War. Upon your specifying to him what these matters 
 of moment are, it is very probable that he will give you such 
 time as you may require to complete them." Levis made 
 this remark with a twinkle of his gray eyes, and a twist of 
 his mouth, perfectly intelligible to the gentlemen of the 
 mess, with the most of whom he had been long intimate. 
 
 " These specifications, sir," replied the captain, " are 
 always used on trials by courts-martial, and are useful 
 enough, it is true, to the government, but sometimes very 
 hard to be answered by the officer. Much as I wish to 
 have a month at Washington, I cannot go into a specifica 
 tion of my reasons to the war department, in order to ob 
 tain that much time." 
 
 " Try it," said Levis, who suspected the captain s rea- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 113 
 
 sons, and wished to make him speak out. " There is no 
 telling what may be done by a fair representation showing 
 matters of much moment to you. We are not at war yet, 
 and if you see the secretary, you may succeed better than 
 you fear." 
 
 " It is too late. My flank is turned already, and if I risk 
 another moment, I may be defeated totally. I have an 
 order now on my table to set off within a week." 
 
 " A week !" said Levis. " A great deal of business may 
 be done in a week, captain ! Can I help you ? If so, let 
 me know how." 
 
 " Thank you," replied the captain ; " I believe I can 
 work best by myself in the case, and do not need help 
 from any quarter. I only want time to make opportuni 
 ties, and twenty-four hours only afterwards. It is ill luck 
 indeed, for I have had but one week s notice to be off, and 
 this is the second day of that." 
 
 " You have only to work the harder then, for the time 
 you have left," said Levis. 
 
 " That will be done in making my opportunities," replied 
 he; "and the Assembly to-morrow night may be enough." 
 
 " Ah !" said Levis, " now I understand you. A lady on 
 Capitol Hill holds the decision of this matter of moment to 
 you, in her own hands. You are too sanguine still, I think. 
 Both the ladies have many admirers ; and I am disposed to 
 believe, that a young friend of mine will be too much for 
 you, to say nothing of one senator, and two members of 
 the House to each ; and if that does not dishearten you en 
 tirely, consider me also as in the field against you." 
 
 " You have mustered up a platoon," replied the captain ; 
 
114 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " I would not care if it were a regiment. I have indeed 
 heard of several competitors for the prize, and amongst 
 them your young friend Leslie, whom I always see in close 
 attendance." 
 
 * I should hardly have the courage, captain," said 
 Charles Leslie, " to meet you in such a field. The mem 
 bers of Congress, however, whom Mr. Levis refers to, may 
 be more than a match for you. Your rank, though high, 
 is, in this place, very subordinate to theirs." 
 
 " I think, sir," said the captain briskly, " my rank equal 
 to any man s. 
 
 " As a gentleman," replied Charles Leslie. " But ladies in 
 Washington appear to consider those who have the power 
 to make or unmake officers, as superior to the officers 
 themselves. Competitors for their favor here, meet often 
 upon a very unfair field, and may be foiled in a manner but 
 little thought of." 
 
 " You are jealous, Leslie, I see," said the captain, " but I 
 must cross your path. However, as there are two of 
 them, you can attempt the one I may leave to you." 
 
 <c Very kind that of you, captain," put in Levis " very 
 kind of you, to Leslie. I will try for the other." 
 
 " And welcome," gayly replied the captain, passing his 
 eye over the slight figure of his new rival. " Pray meet 
 me then at the Assembly to-morrow. A clear field and no 
 favor." 
 
 " Agreed," said Levis. " I shall bring my best tactics 
 to bear upon you, and have no doubt I shall rout you. 
 
 The captain answered only by a laugh of great self- 
 complacency. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 115 
 
 " Shall we go to war ? Will additional regiments be 
 raised ?" inquired Mr. Levis. 
 
 " Certainly, as to your first question/ replied the cap 
 tain. " The difficulty still is, to say when. Our foreign 
 relations are getting worse and worse, and after we have 
 quarrelled a little longer, we shall leave off hard words, 
 and come to hard blows. Additional regiments will, of 
 course, be raised, and perhaps they may be authorized by 
 Congress this session. I hope so, for I have reason to ex 
 pect the command of one of them." 
 
 " It would be wise to do so, no doubt," said Levis. " We 
 are in a very unprepared state for war, and shall be soundly 
 drubbed, I doubt not, before the military spirit be roused 
 up amongst us. A few frigates and a few regiments are 
 but a small force with which to contend against Great 
 Britain, busy as she may be kept by Bonaparte in Eu 
 rope." 
 
 " No doubt," replied the captain, " we are unprepared 
 in every way, but I do not believe that our greatest de 
 ficiency, as respects the army, is yet thought of. If the 
 notion, that the old revolutionary officers will be the best 
 men to lead our troops, be adopted, we shall suffer for it 
 severely. Years have quenched the spirit of their youth. 
 Men who, in the course of nature, have but a few years to 
 live, are very chary of those few years. Additional hon 
 ors very few of our revolutionary officers need : emolu 
 ments of pay, fewer still. Energy and enterprise will not 
 be found. If we expect to fight battles on land with suc 
 cess against Great Britain, young men, who have honors 
 
116 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 and high rank to gain, should be employed, and honors and 
 high rank should be held forth as the reward." 
 
 " You are clearly right," said Levis, ** but I doubt if 
 your ideas will be acted upon. The old officers of the 
 war of Independence have a strong hold on the affections 
 of their countrymen and it will be impossible to begin 
 except with them, if we are compelled to change soon af 
 terwards for younger men." 
 
 " Yes, I suppose so," replied the captain. " The rea 
 sons I have stated, I believe to be sound, but that you have 
 assigned will be acted upon, and it will be unfortunate, I 
 am sure ; for a great and unnecessary sacrifice of life may 
 be induced by it. To give another reason. If the old 
 officers retained anything of the energy and activity of 
 youth, they would be so wedded to the old tactics, they 
 would be no match for the men of the new system of mak 
 ing war, introduced since the commencement of the French 
 Revolution. I have no doubt of the bravery of our people, 
 but this only makes it the more necessary that they should 
 be well commanded. From all the reflection I have given 
 to this subject, I have come to^his conclusion that the 
 general officers in one war, from which they have retired 
 with rank and honors sufficient to satisfy them, are not fit 
 to lead the army in the next war, in which they have no 
 more to gain, but everything to lose." 
 
 * That is a new idea, captain," said Levis, " but really 
 it seems reasonable. However, this is a subject which 
 you military gentlemen ought to understand best ; and 
 your Secretary at War is, you know, an old officer of the 
 war of Independence." 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 117 
 
 " And for that very reason," replied the captain, " will 
 be the more disposed, if war breaks out while he is in office, 
 to give up the army to these old men. And yet there is 
 enough now before the world, to convince any thinking 
 man, of what would be best upon this subject. The young 
 French officers have proved infinitely superior to the old 
 tacticians of the school of Frederic the Great." 
 
 " After all," said Levis, " I do not see how, in a war with 
 Great Britain, we can have battles of any importance on 
 land. And as to the sea, what can we do there with our 
 half a dozen frigates ?" 
 
 " Fight," replied the captain, " if but to show her that 
 we are equal to her in bravery. Our naval officers have 
 already given high proofs both of courage and professional 
 skill. We cannot, it is true, contend in the war which is 
 approaching, for the mastery of the seas, but we may con 
 vince Great Britain, that we will do it in the next. Can 
 any of you tell me what Captain Decatur thinks would be 
 the result of battles between single ships of equal force, 
 American and British ?" 
 
 " I can answer your question, captain," said Charles 
 Leslie. " He told me very lately that we should beat 
 them. It would be a hard fight, he said, but was confi 
 dent that we should get the victory." 
 
 " His opinion," said Levis, " goes a great way with me, 
 and if he engages an enemy of equal force, I shall be 
 greatly mistaken if he does not bring her into port, unless, 
 indeed, he sinks her. His acknowledged bravery and cool 
 ness authorize this expectation. A few successful battles 
 at sea, and a new era for maritime supremacy begins. 
 
118 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Great Britain had better be just, and not force us into be 
 coming a great naval power. Her fate may depend upon 
 this very question." 
 
 " Justice, with her," said Mr. Campbell, another gentle 
 man of the mess, " is not to be named. She can exist by 
 her maritime superiority only through it she pursues dog 
 gedly her commercial monopoly and by it, will endeavor 
 to extend her influence over the globe, to the last moment 
 she can." 
 
 " And by it, may again and again attempt to destroy our 
 Union," said the captain, rising from the table. " You 
 will meet me then at Philippi, Mr. Levis ?" he asked, turn 
 ing to that gentleman. 
 
 " Be sure of it ; and prove there your evil genius. So 
 soon as you see me in the room, consider yourself as de 
 feated as certainly as Brutus was by Antony." 
 
 A laugh and waive of the hand was all the answer the 
 captain gave, as the door closed upon his fine figure. 
 
 " You are a handsome fellow, that is certain," said 
 Levis, and not deficient in sense and information. Pity 
 that your towering vanity should spoil your fair propor 
 tions. Will he succeed, Leslie ?" 
 
 " How can he, when you are his rival for one of the 
 ladies, and Mr. Campbell for the other ?" 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 119 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 THE Assemblies at this time were held in the old theatre, 
 which was fitted up on these occasions into rooms for dan 
 cing and supper, with a third appropriated to the use of the 
 ladies. The first Assembly for the season had been anx 
 iously expected by the three girls, who were very desirous 
 of seeing all together, the beauty and fashion which then 
 filled the city. 
 
 " Indeed, Agnes," said Clara, as they were dressing, " I 
 hope I shall commit no village gaucherie to-night, and be as 
 awkard as if this were the first dance I ever was at in my 
 life." 
 
 " I have the same tremors myself, sister," replied Agnes. 
 ** I hope Charles may be there. If I had him for my part 
 ner in the first dance, I think that my embarrassment would 
 be lessened, and I could do well enough afterwards." 
 
 " You must do without him, Agnes," said Clara. " Go, 
 he will not, though I pressed him to oblige us with his com 
 pany. But, pray do not bring him up before me just now, 
 when I mean to be as gay as I can ; for the moment you 
 do, his words sound in my ears, and bring thoughts not 
 suitable, certainly, for the ball-room." 
 
 When Mr. Sydenham reached the ball-room with his 
 daughters, Clara felt agitated in finding herself in the midst 
 
120 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 of so large and brilliant an assembly ; but advancing, with 
 her arm in her father s on one side, while Agnes held the 
 other, they moved forward to the head of the room, where 
 a group of their friends were standing in conversation. 
 Mrs. Marchmont received them with one of her sweetest 
 smiles ; and introducing the secretary of the French Le 
 gation, he solicited the honor of Clara s hand for the next 
 dance ; and then leaving her for a moment, brought up one 
 of the attaches of the embassy, who engaged Agnes also. 
 The set was soon formed. The music was excellent, and 
 the scene altogether so exhilarating, that the girls soon lost 
 their timidity, and felt entirely at their ease. Clara ob 
 served that Captain Jackson had Lucy for his partner, in 
 the set next to hers, while, at a little distance, she saw Mr. 
 O Connor in conversation with Levis. In the movements 
 of the dance, she came near enough to make some lively 
 remark to him, but before he could reply, the figure had 
 carried her beyond hearing. 
 
 " And a fine young lady you are, sure," said O Connor, 
 turning to Levis, " and a pity it is, and it is myself too 
 that says it, that I was not born some twenty-five years 
 later." 
 
 " And what if you had been ?" replied Levis. " What 
 success could you have expected against the handsome 
 captain, who declares himself desperately smitten with her, 
 and determined to win her ; and of which he says he has 
 no doubt ?" 
 
 " I was only after making a sort of a supposition, Misther 
 Levis," said his friend, " and every now and then such will 
 be coming into my head ; and then again, when they see 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 121 
 
 how white it is getting, they go out as fast as they came 
 in, as if they were ashamed to be caught there. But as to 
 the captain, he has no chance, or I know nothing of Miss 
 Clara Sydenham. Very lively she is, sure ; but her deli 
 cacy, dignity of manners, and sound sense, forbid the idea 
 of her ever giving her affections for a fine figure like his, 
 or for rank, even were it as high as that of a general. He 
 has great boldness to approach her, with that freezing dig 
 nity which she assumes the moment it becomes neces 
 sary." 
 
 " And yet he will venture it, be sure," replied Levis. 
 " I told him jestingly, that I would meet him here, as Bru 
 tus evil genius threatened to meet him at Philippi ; and his 
 reply and manner alike convinced me, that he will offer 
 himself, and is sure of succeeding. It is a pity that his 
 vanity is so immeasurable, for he is not deficient in talents, 
 and stands well in the army." 
 
 " He is all that you represent him to be," said Mr. O Con 
 nor, " and this I can say from an acquaintance with him of 
 some standing. But he is here upon ground of which he 
 knows nothing, and may meet a repulse in a way which he 
 does not expect, if he thinks to get Miss Sydenham for the 
 asking. I will wager my pay for the session upon that." 
 
 " I am not disposed to take your offer," replied Levis ; 
 " but see, the dance is over, and the gentlemen are leading 
 their partners to seats. Let us be lookers-on in Verona 
 for awhile." 
 
 The young ladies had rejoined their company attended 
 by their partners, who then went off together to order re 
 freshments. This movement gave the captain, upon their 
 
 6 
 
122 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 return, an opportunity of getting a seat next to Clara, and 
 of asking her to dance the next cotillion with him. Though 
 by no means pleased with the request, Clara saw that she 
 could not refuse consistently with good manners, or the 
 rules of the ball-room, and assented. It was about this 
 time that the waltz, since so fashionable, was introduced 
 into the amusements of our country, but was so repelled 
 by the then delicacy of our females, that it had not assumed 
 the wanton movements upon which every eye is now fixed 
 with pleasure as well as admiration. The cotillion which 
 the band was playing, was danced to a figure in which the 
 waltz occasionally made a part, and no liberty was per 
 mitted the gentleman, but that of laying his hand on his 
 partner s shoulder, as they turned round. When this was 
 to be done, the captain placed his on Clara s. " No, sir, no !" 
 she exclaimed, shrinking from him, and then walking the 
 circle as that part of the figure required for the waltz. 
 Her partner, feeling the repulse keenly, kept by her side, 
 and the dance soon afterwards ended. 
 
 The two lookers-on in Verona had been in observation. 
 
 " And did you see that, Misther Levis ?" said O Connor. 
 " Sure too, it was just what I was looking for, and well 
 done it was. The captain will be defeated." 
 
 " I think so too," replied his friend ; " and I am highly 
 gratified at seeing so undisguised and prompt a repulse of 
 liberties as indelicate as they are ungraceful." Approach 
 ing the set before it broke up, and watching his opportunity, 
 he whispered to the captain that he had observed what had 
 just taken place, adding, that " his evil genius had the mas 
 tery that night." But the captain had neither time nor in- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 123 
 
 clination to reply just then. The dance was not over, 
 and his mortification was too great to give it the expres 
 sion he wished. But his thoughts were instantly turned in 
 the direction of Lucy, and he determined to change his ob 
 ject, and transfer his operations to her. When the dance 
 was over, and he had led Clara to a seat, he went off in an 
 other direction, with the intention to find or make an oppor 
 tunity for his proposals to Lucy, as confident as ever of 
 succeeding with her, as he had been of succeeding with 
 Clara. 
 
 Soon after he had gone, one of the managers came up 
 to Agnes, and asked her to dance with a gentleman from 
 New York, who had requested him to solicit the honor of 
 her hand. She immediately assented, and the manager 
 soon brought up the gentleman, and introduced him as Mr. 
 Gambroon. As soon as they took their places, Captain 
 Decatur, who had been conversing with Clara, Lucy, and 
 Agnes, left the two former, and followed Agnes, continu 
 ing his conversation with her. At every interval of the 
 dance, as the figure required, the captain immediately 
 touched her arm to draw her attention, and renewed the 
 conversation. When the dance was over he went with her 
 to her seat. Her partner had gone to the manager, who 
 soon re-appeared, making the same request to Lucy, on 
 behalf of Mr. Gambroon, that he had made to Agnes. As 
 soon as Lucy rose to go to the set, the captain rose also, 
 and acted over again with her the part he had just been 
 performing with Agnes. When the dance was over, and 
 the young ladies were again together " Do you know," 
 said he, " who it is you have been dancing with ? He is a 
 
124 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 shopkeeper s clerk in New York, and neither by his man 
 ners nor associations has any title to the pretensions he is 
 assuming here. Knowing this, I took the liberty to engage 
 your attention, that he might see he was known, and have 
 no ground to say, that you were both acquaintances of his." 
 
 " So he is, most certainly," said Lucy, laughing ; " I now 
 remember buying a dress from him in Broadway, and I 
 thought I had seen him somewhere. Thank you, captain, 
 for your interference ; but indeed," she continued, " it is to 
 be wished, that some mode could be adopted by which 
 these over-democratic admissions to the ball-room might 
 be prevented." Agnes added her acknowledgments to 
 Lucy s for the gentlemanly conduct which tended to lessen 
 so much the mortification which the manager, though un 
 consciously, had produced. 
 
 Their attention was now drawn to a movement by an 
 other group of ladies advancing to their side of the room. 
 Amongst them was one of high standing in society, of the 
 olden times, and yet tenaciously adhering to the mode of 
 dress and manners which had so strikingly characterized 
 the females of a generation, one of which was now rarely 
 to be seen in places of fashionable amusement. Her stiff 
 brockade, high-heeled shoes, tight stays, as they were then 
 called, arms bared to above the elbow, and head dress as an 
 tique in shape as costly in material, gave instant evidence, 
 that a belle of the last century had made her appearance 
 amongst the belles of the present. As she came up to 
 where the three young ladies and Captain Decatur, with 
 Mr. Hollis, who had now joined them, were in conversa 
 tion, the gentleman, whose arm the fine old lady held, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 125 
 
 stopped to introduce to her an acquaintance of his, who 
 acknowledged the honor by a low bow. The lady turned 
 to him, and crossing her arms, returned one of those slow, 
 modest, and graceful courtesies which had been in fashion 
 half a century before. " Was not that pretty," said the 
 captain to Clara. " Can you equal it, do you think ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not," she replied. ** It was pretty indeed ; easy, 
 natural, and graceful. I hardly think that our manners 
 nowadays can compare advantageously with those of our 
 mothers ; for the object now seems to be, to substitute 
 something artificial for what is ease and nature." 
 
 " Will you let the gentlemen have anything to think 
 upon that subject, Miss Sydenham ?" said Mr. Hollis. 
 
 By all means." 
 
 "I think then," said he, fixing his look intently upon 
 Clara, " that the daughters greatly surpass the mothers in 
 grace of manners, as well as in cultivated understandings. 
 We have in the Old Dominion yet, wherewith to make the 
 comparison." 
 
 ** You had permission to think, Mr. Hollis, not to speak," 
 said Lucy. " You gentlemen of Congress bring the priv 
 ileges of the House with you into the ball-room." 
 
 " Excuse him this time, Miss Marchmont," said Mr. 
 Campbell, who had joined them just at that moment, " Ex 
 cuse him this time for the cause." 
 
 " I do not know that I shall," replied Lucy, who had in 
 terfered to cover the embarrassment which she saw Mr. 
 Hollis s attentions were causing to Clara. " A compliment 
 to the daughter at the expense of the mother, is no com 
 pliment at all." 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " I do not admire compliments, for my part," said Mr. 
 Campbell, " as they are usually applied. The highest com 
 pliment I could pay to a lady, would be in telling her of 
 the failings in her character ; for in doing so, I should be 
 lieve that her heart and understanding would cause her to 
 see those failings, and correct them." 
 
 Lucy gave her lover one of her sweetest smiles. Clara 
 cast down her eyes. Mr. Campbell s words had struck her 
 deeply even in the ball-room, and Charles Leslie was in 
 her thoughts. But their attention was suddenly called to 
 a scene of confusion which had just opened in another 
 part of the room. Two sets were engaged in a cotillion, 
 and a young man who belonged to one of them, and whose 
 dancing was much admired, was so elated at his own per 
 formance, that his movements became extravagant ; his 
 heels got entangled in his partner s dress, and after violent 
 efforts to clear himself, they both fell to the floor together. 
 The lady was assisted to her feet, her dress torn almost 
 from her : the gentleman in a plight not much better. 
 They both had to retire immediately, while the spectators 
 could with difficulty smother the laugh which the faux pas 
 had excited. * What is the matter, O Connor ?" asked 
 Levis, as they encountered at the other end of the room. 
 
 " Sure," said O Connor, " and it is nothing else but that 
 a lady has fallen in the ball-room ; and is that any great 
 wonder at all, at all, Misther Levis ?" 
 
 " I think not," said his friend, dryly, already out of humor 
 with the waltz. " I shall not be surprised to hear of other 
 falls. But I have seen enough : good night ; I am going." 
 
 O Connor returned his farewell, telling him that he 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 127 
 
 should not be long there himself, but should go first to the 
 supper-table, to which the company would be summoned 
 as soon as the cotillion was ended. This, however, took 
 place in a few moments, and from a laughable circumstance 
 indeed. An officer of the marine corps, as well known 
 for his intelligence and bravery, as for his high bearing as 
 a gentleman, was in one of the sets which were then on 
 the floor. He was in uniform, and one of the hooks which 
 confined the breast of his coat, had got loose from the eye 
 on the other side. In turning his partner, the hook most 
 unfortunately caught her wig. He could have extricated it 
 in a single moment, had the lady retained her presence of 
 mind and stood still ; but instead of that, she clapped her 
 hand upon the wig, held everything tight, and made for 
 the dressing-room as fast as she could, pulling the captain 
 with her. Thus the good manners of the company were 
 again in requisition upon an occasion which, if not so mor 
 tifying as a fall, was vastly more trying to the laughing 
 propensities of those who were near enough to see the 
 manner of the exeunt. 
 
 Supper was announced . The ladies had rejoined their 
 party, and all moved onwards. They were about taking 
 their seats, when the arrival of another party with the 
 lady of the Secretary of State, stopped them for a moment, 
 to interchange the civilities which their first meeting for 
 the evening rendered necessary. When they were all 
 fixed, Clara, with much pleasure, found herself seated next 
 to Mrs. Madison. She had already been several times in 
 her company at different places, and at her house, and wor 
 by her elegant manners, and amiable deportment, felt all 
 
128 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 the mingled emotions of respect and affection, which this 
 fine woman never failed to make upon the young and un 
 suspicious heart. And even to this day, the recollection of 
 scenes long past, and of her gentle and affectionate atten 
 tions, still call forth an acknowledgment of what is due to 
 the dignity of her character, as to the surpassing ease and 
 elegance of her manners. 
 
 The appearance of the company, when seated, was 
 splendid. Dress, ornaments, smiles, animation, hopes, it 
 may be, gave new charms to what of themselves were suf 
 ficient to enslave all Congress. It was a sight to rivet the 
 attention, as the eye wandered from one to another of more 
 than one hundred ladies, none of a plain appearance, and 
 many of surpassing grace and loveliness. 
 
 The dancing had been resumed after supper, and the 
 young ladies had been engaged in two sets, when Mr. 
 Sydenham came up to his daughters, and telling them that 
 a violent snow-storm was raging without, bid them to get 
 ready to go home, and to be careful to wrap themselves up 
 well in the dressing-room, while he went out to order up his 
 carriage. Upon reaching the dressing-room, the servant in 
 formed Clara that Miss Somerville had, by mistake, taken 
 her cloak instead of her own, and Clara was thus compelled 
 to submit to the temporary exchange. She found, however, 
 that it was every way equal to her own, and exactly re 
 sembled Lucy s, both in the fabric and fashion. Agnes 
 was ready, and Clara wrapping herself up, and drawing 
 the hood well over her head, they went towards the door 
 with the rest of the party, determined to crowd all the la 
 dies into Mr. Sydenham s or Mr. Marchmont s carriage, as 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 either might be first able to draw up, and leave the other 
 for the gentlemen to follow them when they could. But 
 the crowd of carriages of every kind was so great, that 
 neither Mr. Sydenham s nor Mr. Marchmont s had been 
 able to get to the door. To walk to them was out of the 
 question, for the snow was now six inches deep. As they 
 thus stood, Clara sheltered herself behind a pillar from the 
 keen wind which was pouring in. During these move 
 ments, the party had been closely watched by a gentleman, 
 who had now made his way to where Clara was standing. 
 She heard herself suddenly addressed in the most impas 
 sioned manner. " Cruel girl !" said the speaker ; " the 
 storm is kinder than thou art, for it has prevented your de 
 parture, and given me an opportunity of suing for that 
 hand, without which life has no value. Lucy adored 
 Lucy ! tell me that I may hope." It was the captain, who, 
 true to his purpose, had followed the party ; but misled by 
 the resemblance of Clara s cloak to Lucy s, and not able to 
 see well the features of either, had most unluckily ad 
 dressed the wrong person. Clara, recognizing his voice, 
 and astonished and alarmed at such an unexpected address, 
 immediately turned towards Mrs. Marchmont and her 
 party, and as she did so, a loud voice from the street an 
 nounced Mr. Sydenham s carriage, and then Mr. March- 
 mont s. Mr. Sydenham appeared at the door, and imme 
 diately entered his carriage, and placed his daughters on 
 each side of him. Drawing them close to him, and throw 
 ing his cloak around them, to shield them still better from 
 the severity of the weather, " I hope, my dear girls," he 
 
 said, " that you will not suffer from this night s dissipation." 
 
 6* 
 
130 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Clara was silent for a moment, and then threw her arms 
 about her father. " Now I am with you, dear papa," she 
 said, " I can laugh again ; but I have just been frightened 
 and agitated excessively. As we all stood in the lobby, 
 expecting every moment to see you, and to learn that the 
 carriage was at the door, a gentleman who had followed 
 us, came .close to me, and began a passionate address to 
 me as if I were Lucy, being misled, I suppose, by the re 
 semblance of our cloaks. I immediately drew my hood 
 still closer about my face, so that he could not know me, 
 and had turned to get near to Mrs. Marchmont, when you 
 came up. The person was Captain Jackson." 
 
 " He is intrusive, my dear," said Mr. Sydenham, " and 
 presumptuous in his manners and expectations. If he di 
 rects his attentions to you, you must check them ; and if 
 that will not do, I shall interfere myself." 
 
 " I can hardly expect, papa," replied Clara, " that he will 
 trouble me, as his declaration to-night was certainly in 
 tended for Lucy. But if I am mistaken, I will attend faith 
 fully to your directions." 
 
 The carriage had now reached Vanderhorn s. The 
 girls ran up to their room, and in a few minutes Mrs. March 
 mont and Lucy came in also. As soon as they were seated 
 around the fire, Clara, in a fit of laughter almost uncontrol- 
 able, related what had just passed, concluding her recital with 
 the captain s words, " Lucy adored Lucy may I hope V 9 
 
 Mrs. Marchmont, turning to Lucy, asked her " what all 
 this meant. Surely, my child, you have not been giving 
 Captain Jackson encouragement to address you ?" 
 
 "Indeed I have not, my dear mamma," replied Lucy. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 131 
 
 * Clara s account of what has just taken place, is as unex 
 pected to me as anything could be." Here a fit of laughter 
 at the captain s unlucky mistake seized upon her, and was 
 soon taken up by all present. " But never mind," she said, 
 " these epaulettes are not easily driven from the field, but 
 rally, and try it in another place. Probably he will be here 
 to-morrow, and as I shall give no chance for hope, I think 
 it most probable that he will make his next offer to Clara. 
 Nous verrons ; so pray, Clara, stop laughing. Here is a 
 large tray which Ann has just brought up, with something 
 upon it which I would not exchange for the captain." 
 
 " Lucy adored Lucy may I hope ?" repeated Clara. 
 
 " Do pray stop, or I shall never finish my cup of tea," 
 said Lucy, putting it down, and laughing again violently. 
 " After all," said she, " this is a laughable finale to an evening 
 which I have passed pleasantly, let it have been to others 
 as it may." 
 
 Mrs. Marchmont had now retired to her own room, and 
 the three girls also prepared for sleep, which soon fell upon 
 them, thoughtless as ignorant of what futurity might have 
 in reserve for them all, and as innocent and guileless as 
 youth and loveliness, in its time of witchery and power, 
 could be. 
 
132 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 " TRULY," said Mr. Sydenham, the evening after the As 
 sembly, " truly this is an uncomfortable night ; and I hope 
 you will all remain at home, and we will have a family 
 party. The girls will give music to those who like it, and 
 the rest of us will have a game at loo." 
 
 The gentlemen expressed their acquiescence in the pro 
 posal : the table was drawn out, the cards thrown upon it, 
 and the party arranged themselves around it, Mr. O Connor 
 handing Mrs. Stanley very gallantly to the seat nearest to 
 the fire. Mrs. Marchmont, who never played, drew out a 
 purse which she was netting. Lucy seated herself at a 
 table, to examine some beautiful prints which her father had 
 just purchased. Agnes kept close to Mrs. Marchmont ; 
 and Clara sauntered carelessly about the room for a while, 
 and then seated herself at the piano, running her fingers 
 over the keys. Mr. O Connor, who was dealing out the 
 cards, turned round his fine animated face, and. taking a sur 
 vey of the large, well-lighted apartment, and bright fire 
 burning in the grate, " And sure now," said he, " and it is 
 myself that tells it. we are all comfortably fixed ; good 
 company, bright lights and brighter eyes, and a warm fire, 
 while the rough northwester rattles against the windows 
 in vain, for admittance. And, Miss Clara, will you plaise 
 give us some music into .the bargain ?" 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 133 
 
 " Anything you please, Mr. O Connor," replied Clara. 
 
 " Then play Erin go Bragh, while I cheat Mrs. Stan 
 ley out of her money." 
 
 " Erin go Bragh, Mr. O Connor, and welcome," replied 
 Clara, laughing, " but no cheating of the ladies," her fingers 
 running rapidly over the keys in a beautiful symphony. 
 She then played and sang the song so sweet in Irish ears, 
 with great taste and feeling, Mr. O Connor accompanying 
 her at times with his deep, clear bass. Mr. Campbell then 
 came in, and was soon seated alongside of Lucy. A little 
 while afterwards, the servant announced Captain Jackson ; 
 who entered with one of his most graceful bows, his fine 
 figure showing to great advantage in his military dress, and 
 his handsome face flushed with his walk. 
 
 " Ah ! captain," exclaimed Mr. O Connor, shaking hands 
 with him as he approached to the card-table, " and we are 
 very glad to see you. You had a very fine wind from the 
 Seven Buildings, sure, or you could not have reached here 
 so soon after supper." 
 
 The captain replied, that he had dined that day with the 
 Secretary at War ; had just left the table, and had called to 
 take leave, as he should set off for the South in the morn 
 ing. Mr. O Connor expressed surprise, and Mrs. Stanley 
 regret ; saying at the same time, that " he had better ask 
 for a few days delay, as she hardly thought he had yet com 
 pleted all his business at Washington." The captain well 
 understood the lady, though no one else did ; but told her 
 that " a military order was not to be evaded, however pain 
 ful it might be to an officer s feelings, or injurious to his af 
 fairs," softening his voice as he spoke, and casting a glance 
 
134 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 at Lucy. From her, however, he met none in return. 
 She had acknowledged his presence by a slight bow, when 
 he entered the room, and had again given her attention en 
 tirely to Mr. Campbell. A shade of disappointment passed 
 over his fine features, and was quickly succeeded by angry 
 feelings arising from mortified vanity. He stood in a stud 
 ied attitude, showing his fine person to great advantage, 
 leaning on Mrs. Stanley s chair, as if he were observing 
 the players, but far different thoughts engrossed him. He 
 had been playing a deep game, and now found himself in a 
 position in which it was to be feared that he would lose it. 
 He had unequivocally solicited Lucy s hand, but the night 
 before, and now found her wholly engrossed by another, 
 who he knew was his rival, and evidently having no inten 
 tion of giving him an opportunity to renew his suit. This 
 very rival too, had heard his boasts of his confidence of 
 success with both of the ladies. What course was now to 
 to be taken, was the question. An engagement with one 
 of them must be made, that his interests might be left safely 
 with her father during his absence ; otherwise, all his ex 
 pectations of preferment, in which he had been confirmed 
 by Mrs. Stanley s approbation of his plan, were worthless. 
 His pride, too, was aroused. " Must I go South," thought 
 he, " and leave my name to be the scoff of Levis, Campbell 
 and Leslie ? Miss Sydenham is every way equal to Miss 
 Marchmont, and I will now try what a coup de main can 
 do to secure her. If I succeed, I will steal one day from 
 the War Department to make all safe." 
 
 At this moment a loud laugh arose at the card-table. 
 Mr. O Connor had just won a large pool from Mrs. Stanley, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 135 
 
 who, rising from the table, declared that she was bankrupt, 
 and did not play that night with her usual judgment and 
 success. " Thank you, Miss Clara, " cried out Mr. O Con 
 nor, " your music has charmed away Mrs. Stanley s wits, 
 and given me an opportunity of winning from her ten bales 
 of cotton. Come here, captain, and take her place, and do 
 your best to win them back. But what is the matter with 
 you ? Sure, now that I have time to look at you, you have 
 much the appearance of a man going upon a forlorn-hope." 
 
 " Thank you," said the captain, rallying his thoughts and 
 laughing, " you gentlemen of Congress have not yet passed 
 the army appropriation bill, and I am not so able to stand 
 losses as well as Mrs. Stanley. The power that charmed 
 away her wits, as you say, may perhaps steal away my 
 melancholy." He then moved across the room, and took a 
 chair near Clara, who was still seated at the piano, though 
 not playing on it. 
 
 " You have been very merry at the card-table, Captain 
 Jackson," said she. "Mr. O Connor s wit and fine manners 
 sometimes draw me there myself." 
 
 " Then Mr. O Connor is to be envied, Miss Sydenham." 
 
 " Yes," she replied, " the ceaseless sunshine of his mind 
 diffuses an exhilarating influence on all around him, and 
 keeps us in good humor with ourselves, and everybody 
 else." 
 
 " But is he not shining," said the captain, " with a bor 
 rowed light, reflected by the bright rays of wit and beauty 
 which are around him ?" 
 
 " Ah ! captain," replied Clara, " I shall begin to think 
 
136 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 that you really envy Mr. O Connor his powers of attrac 
 tion." 
 
 " Not his powers of attraction, Miss Sydenham, but his 
 position near the star of my destiny. I am going off to the 
 South, with the painful consciousness that each day drags me 
 further from all that can give value to existence ; but for 
 tune has favored me with an opportunity of pouring out the 
 anguish of my heart to you, and to plead your sympathy." 
 
 Clara turned an arch look towards Mrs. Marchmont. 
 "Now," thought she, " I am to be made a confidant of, just 
 as much as he may see fit to reveal of his last night s 
 offer." 
 
 " Yes, certainly, captain," she said, " you shall have my 
 sympathy, if the case deserve it; but first let me know 
 something about it, and I then can better understand to 
 what extent it might be given. How long have you been 
 in love with this fair lady ?" 
 
 " Since the first hour we met." 
 
 " Ah ! Captain Jackson," replied Clara, " that will never 
 do. Love at first sight is nothing but an ignis fatuus, 
 which the first breath of reason dissipates. You will have 
 to bear the absence of a year at least, to test your con 
 stancy, before you can expect a kind look or a smile." 
 
 The captain was perplexed by the sportive and arch 
 manner in which his intended addresses were received. 
 Common sensibilities, had he possessed them, would have 
 shown him that he could have no interest in the fair girl, 
 who could answer him thus gayly at the moment she was 
 expecting his offer : but led onwards by his selfishness and 
 vanity, he now plunged into the gulf before him. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 137 
 
 " Oh ! say not so, loveliest of women !" he exclaimed, 
 seizing her hand and holding it firmly, in spite of her ef 
 forts. " Oh ! say not so ! sport not with the feelings of a 
 heart that adores you !" 
 
 Clara was struck dumb for one moment, but recovering 
 herself, " This to me ! to me !" cried the offended girl, 
 struggling violently to extricate her hand her face flushed, 
 and her form elevated to its utmost height. 
 
 " Yes ! to you," cried the captain ; " for who else has 
 such power to charm ? and how can you ask it, when your 
 past manner towards me has evinced that a kindred sym 
 pathy of soul has existed between us, from the first hour 
 we met." 
 
 Clara stood motionless, and unable to utter a word, from 
 the presumption and vanity of her admirer, in thus attrib 
 uting to her feelings towards him, to which she had ever 
 been an utter stranger ; but her sense of propriety and her 
 natural dignity soon resumed their places, from which they 
 had been violently jostled for a moment. The captain still 
 continued his passionate professions of his own, and ex 
 pressions of her preference for him ; and then wound up 
 the whole, by asking her permission to speak to Mr. Syden- 
 ham for his approbation. 
 
 Clara had now determined upon her course. " There is 
 no occasion for that, Captain Jackson," said the indignant 
 girl, releasing her hand, at length, by a sudden effort, 
 " there is no occasion for that. My father was speaking 
 to me about you last night, and I will now speak to him 
 myself." Advancing to the table where Mr. Sydenham 
 was still engaged with the party at loo, standing close to 
 
138 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 him, and looking at him intently, " What, my dear papa," 
 said she, " would you think of a son-in-law ? I have just 
 had an offer, and am come to know what you will say to 
 the gentleman." 
 
 Mr. Sydenham turning towards her, instantly discovered 
 Clara s intention, that the captain should receive such a 
 repulse as the insult which his vanity and presumption had 
 given, deserved. " Bring him forward bring him for 
 ward," he cried ; " let me have a look at him." The 
 whole party had now thrown down their cards at the scene 
 before them. But the captain now saw his error. Over 
 whelmed with confusion at the turn which Clara had so un 
 expectedly given to the affair, observing the indignation 
 which was plainly marked upon her countenance, and 
 which appeared to be rapidly rising to her father s also, 
 he could stand it no longer. He rose from his chair 
 stammered out something about misapprehension no of 
 fence intended was going off* in the morning till getting 
 near the door, out he went. " Bring him back bring him 
 back," cried Mr. O Connor, going to the passage. " He has 
 beat a retreat, sure," said he, returning ; " and it is the best 
 thing he could have done." A burst of laughter followed 
 from all but Clara, who was still too angry to join in it. 
 
 She took her seat at the table with Lucy and Mr. Camp 
 bell, but this was no relief to her. Lucy s merriment was 
 unabated. In one of its intervals, Mr. Campbell inquired 
 of her what it was that amused her so much more than 
 others in the scene which had just been exhibited. Lucy 
 then told him what had occurred the night before at the 
 Assembly, and her prediction, that Clara herself would re- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 ceive from the captain, this very night, the offer which he 
 had made herself the night before. This set off Mr. Camp 
 bell and Lucy once more, and Clara s natural buoyancy of 
 spirits having regained its ascendency, she could not help 
 joining them. " And what new thing is it ?" said Mr. O Con 
 nor, calling to them, " that you have found out ? Send it 
 here to this table, that we may know if we are to join you." 
 
 Mr. Campbell related the affair of the night before, and 
 another burst of laughter broke forth from all but Mr. 
 O Connor. He started to his feet. " In my soul," said he, 
 " I am ashamed that he has a drop of Irish blood left in 
 him, and has been guilty of such conduct. But that he 
 has received a lesson which I think will be of use to him, 
 and is going away in the morning, I would do him the 
 favor to give him another myself." 
 
 To the general merriment which had been operating 
 through the company, there were two exceptions. Mrs. 
 Stanley was violently offended at the indignity with which 
 she thought the captain was treated. She left the room 
 soon after he did, and the next morning left Vanderhorn s. 
 The other was Hollis, who sat observing everything, to ap 
 pearance, very philosophically, but in reality with deep in 
 terest. His jealousy had been aroused by both the captain 
 and Charles Leslie, and though his penetration soon enabled 
 him to discover, that he had the most to fear from the 
 latter, he was still not without apprehensions from the 
 former. The captain s dismissal in so public a manner had 
 removed all fear on his account, and his spirits rose ac 
 cordingly. Advancing with his usual caution to his object 
 of securing Clara s affections for himself, he now sought an 
 
140 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 opportunity of conversing with her. He began his re 
 marks with admirable dexterity, as to the captain s vanity 
 and presumption, which he attributed to his handsome face 
 and military education, and then complimented her upon 
 the promptness and the mode in which he had been re 
 jected. " And may such," he added, " be the fate of all 
 who offer you a homage which is not due, as well to your 
 understanding as to your charms." 
 
 This was well expressed, and for one moment Clara felt 
 it. But how strange is our nature ! The very homage 
 which it was plain her new admirer wished her to believe 
 that he himself was then offering, was the very kind which 
 Charles Leslie had always paid to her ; for she knew and 
 felt that when he told her of her failings, of which she never 
 heard a word from Hollis, Charles appealed both to her 
 understanding and heart, to perceive and to correct them. 
 Mr. Hollis s arrow fell at her feet, harmless. He had un 
 wittingly brought up before her remembrances of his rival, 
 which the dissipation of Washington had not yet effaced. 
 
 The night was now far advanced, and the company re 
 tired from the drawing-room. 
 
 " Where is Captain Jackson, Harry ?" said Mr. Levis to 
 the servant in waiting, the next morning. " You had bet 
 ter step up to his room and call him." 
 
 " Captain Jackson went away in the stage, last night, 
 sir," replied the servant. 
 
 " Went away last night !" said Mr. Levis, in surprise. 
 
 " Yes, sir," repeated Harry. 
 
 "It is even so," said Mr. Campbell. "I was at Vander- 
 horn s Last night when he came to take leave, and announ- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 141 
 
 ced that he was ordered back to the South, and should set 
 off immediately." 
 
 " Ah ! indeed," said Mr. Levis, " I wish I had been there 
 to have seen him make his last bow, and have witnessed the 
 abrupt termination of his hopes." 
 
 " Abrupt it was," said Campbell, who found it impossible 
 to repress a laugh at the recollection of the scene of the 
 last night. 
 
 " Well then, let us hear how it was," said Mr. Levis. 
 " I see from your manner, that there was something laugh 
 able ; though I cannot tell how a leave-taking, such as I 
 should suppose the captain had to go through, could have 
 anything ludicrous in it. Do you mean to say, that either 
 of the ladies, or both of them shed tears, or gave him some 
 thing for a remembrance during his absence ?" 
 
 Campbell again broke out into a laugh. " No tears from 
 either, Mr. Levis, certainly," said he, " but most unbounded 
 laughter ; and that too from the token of remembrance 
 which one of the ladies gave to the captain, and which, I 
 am sure, he carries about him this morning." 
 
 " You young rogue," replied Mr. Levis, " you only in 
 crease my curiosity without gratifying it. Begin at the be 
 ginning, and go through the whole scene." 
 
 " Excuse me," said Campbell, " I should not be able to 
 do justice to it. You must apply to Mr. O Connor." 
 
 " Well," said Levis, rising from breakfast, " there is some 
 thing in it laughable enough, I see, and I will find it out 
 
 yet." 
 
 The gentlemen left the room one by one, till there were 
 none left but Mr. Campbell and Charles Leslie. " I did not 
 
142 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 think it proper, Leslie," said Campbell, turning to him. "to re 
 late before all at the breakfast-table what took place at Van- 
 derhorn s ; but the footing upon which you stand with Mr. 
 Sydenham s family well justifies me in giving you an ac 
 count of it." He then related the whole affair, concluding 
 with expressions of admiration and respect for Clara, from 
 the manner in which she had borne herself through it. 
 
 " It is like her," said Charles ; " she has an intuitive per 
 ception of propriety, and a dignity of mind which perceives 
 and checks, in a moment, the slightest attempt of vanity 
 and presumption in our sex. She may be a most superior 
 woman in time, if she escape the infection of this dissipated 
 city, and get home as guileless as she came. It is to me a 
 most thoughtless thing in parents to expose artless, beauti 
 ful young girls, to the polluted air which they must often 
 breathe here." 
 
 " It is so," replied his friend, " and will continue to be so. 
 The seat of the General Government of our rising nation will 
 become more and more attractive every year ; and will 
 bring together at every session crowds of ladies who will 
 come to see, and to be seen, to admire and to be admired. 
 But say, will you go to Vanderhorn s this evening ? You 
 are always a welcome visitor there, I know." 
 
 " I arn not so sure of that." 
 
 " But I am," rejoined Campbell. " Consent to go. I will 
 introduce you to Miss Sydenham," he added, smiling ; 
 " with Miss Marchmont you are acquainted, I believe." 
 
 " With the latter, Campbell, not quite so well as I believe 
 you are. But I see you are taking me with you to engage 
 Miss Sydenham in conversation, while you pair off with 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 143 
 
 Miss Marchmont. But no matter/ Charles added, smiling 
 in his turn, " I will go with you." 
 
 The evening accordingly found them at Vanderhorn s. 
 Upon entering the drawing-room, they found that Clara and 
 Lucy were its only occupants. As the young men ad 
 vanced towards the fireplace, Campbell, with great gravity, 
 introduced Charles to Clara ; and telling her that he was a 
 particular friend of his, but very bashful, begged her to 
 entertain him to the best of her ability, while he would be 
 seech Miss Marchmont to entertain himself. He then led 
 Lucy to the opposite part of the room, out of hearing of 
 Charles and Clara, who were seated near to each other. 
 
 " Campbell is in high spirits to-night," said Charles, " and 
 it needs no prophet to tell the cause ; and glad I am of it. 
 He has great worth, and has found great worth to match 
 it. You have begun the work of dismissal, I find, Clara," 
 he continued, " from what Campbell has been telling me. 
 How many are to meet the same fate ?" 
 
 " As many as may deserve it, Charles," she replied. 
 
 " That is as well said, as the other was well done. But 
 pray don t abuse your power when you are using it. A 
 gentleman, in offering himself to a lady, pays her the great 
 est compliment he can ; and if rejected, it should be done 
 so as to spare his feelings as much as possible." 
 
 " But suppose he has no feelings ?" inquired Clara. 
 
 " Such a case seems to be impossible," replied Charles. 
 " But what a scene of dissipation Washington is," he added, 
 turning the conversation. " Heaven grant that you may 
 get out of it, as artless as you came into it ! I often, very 
 often, think of your position, and hear much of the admi- 
 
144 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 ration you excite, of the homage you receive, and wonder 
 what will be the issue of it all." 
 
 " You have heard, then, more than was true. But were 
 it so, nothing but good, I hope." 
 
 " I hope so," Charles replied, " as ardently as you do, 
 perhaps more so ; but I well know, that the society at 
 Washington will severely test the principles of all who 
 mix in it. Your own good judgment may point out your 
 course, and your heart pardon me this once that I use 
 the word your heart will prompt you to act up to it. 
 Will it ever be, that I shall see you all I had once dared 
 to hope r 
 
 Charles Leslie, when in conversation with Clara, and en 
 deavoring to arouse the better feelings, which he thought 
 she still possessed, threw into his voice and manner, a soft 
 ness and interest which made his words thrill through her. 
 She saw his attachment, and she saw, too, the conflict of 
 his mind, and emotions much like his own were immediately 
 excited in her own sensitive bosom. 
 
 " Charles, Charles ! how can you take pleasure in giving 
 me pain by" 
 
 " Give you pain !" he replied, interrupting her " to do 
 so, is the last thing on earth I would be guilty of inten 
 tionally. Rough I may be perhaps, at times, intrusive, 
 but never never has there been a moment, that I have 
 felt aught but the deepest solicitude, for all that concerned 
 your character and happiness." 
 
 Clara was deeply affected by the low, impassioned tone, 
 and expressions of her first lover, and turned upon him a 
 look of confidence and respect. There is no telling to 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 145 
 
 what a longer conference might have led ; perhaps a full 
 understanding might have taken place, and years of sepa 
 ration never have been known ; but just then a crowd of 
 company came in, and the young ladies rose to receive 
 them. 
 
 Mr. Hollis had entered the room at the same time, and 
 his eye instantly caught the position of the two couples, 
 which, the one out of the hearing of the other, had been 
 so dosely engaged. With Mr. Campbell and Lucy, he did 
 not concern himself; but he remarked, that both Charles 
 Leslie s and Clara s countenances betrayed their agitation. 
 But the pride of the Virginian now aroused, as well as his 
 feelings interested, he was the more determined than ever 
 to push his attentions, and secure his conquest of Clara, 
 and thus complete his triumph over one whom he haughtily 
 considered his inferior. The victory, he saw plainly, was 
 still contested by his adversary, but this only urged him to 
 more strenuous exertions. 
 
146 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 As it is in the present, so it was in the last generation. 
 When the Assemblies began, they were followed up by 
 party after party, given by the high officers of the Govern 
 ment, and by gentlemen of the city whose means were 
 adequate to those expensive entertainments. Sometimes a 
 sleighing-party would be made for Bladensburgh or Alex 
 andria ; and one or two persons may yet remember, how, 
 in one of them, some of the company at Vanderhorn s were 
 thrown out, and mixed up together in the snow. Dissipa 
 tion and excitement, in every mode which the ten-miles 
 square could afford, then as now, bore everything before it 
 like a storm ; and there was no telling what wrecks would 
 be seen after it had passed over. 
 
 At all these parties, Mr. Hollis was a constant attendant 
 upon Clara. His attentions were plain and decided, and if 
 not pointedly encouraged, were not pointedly repulsed. 
 With a vanity, of which most men have a share, he thought 
 that he might now consider himself as standing upon good 
 ground in offering himself, and he determined to do so. 
 Charles Leslie had, for some time past, kept himself in the 
 background. After his conversation with Clara, in which 
 they had been interrupted by the entrance of company, he 
 found that she still pursued the same career of dissipation, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 147 
 
 with unabated ardor. He knew, likewise, that Hollis was 
 incessant in his attentions, and he thought that he had seen 
 twice, when he was at Vanderhorn s, that he was encour 
 aged by Clara. He now left the field to his rival. In 
 trenched in his own stronghold, he determined to await the 
 issue of the trial which he saw plainly that she would have 
 to sustain ; and though it was with deep apprehension of 
 the result, still he was anxious for the decision. Clara, on 
 her part, expected Mr. Hollis s offer some time or other, 
 indefinitely, before the session closed ; and though at 
 times pleased with his attentions, had not yet made his ex 
 pected offer, a subject upon which she had formed a final 
 determination. To a woman of sense and honor, who 
 knows that a connection for life is almost the most impor 
 tant matter which she can ever be called upon to decide, 
 deep reflection, and examination of her own heart, are 
 sure to follow ; and if any apprehension exists as to the 
 principles of her suitor, or doubts as to the state of her 
 own affections towards another, the moment of decision is 
 put off, until it can be no longer avoided. 
 
 In this state was Clara, when one morning, soon after 
 breakfast, Mr. Hollis found himself alone with her in the 
 drawing-room, and seizing the opportunity, and with some 
 what of Virginian haughtiness, made his proposals, and con 
 cluded with asking her permission to speak to her father. 
 But Clara, after all that she had thought upon the subject, 
 was not ready with a definite answer. Thoughts upon 
 thoughts rushed through her mind with a rapidity which 
 forbade a determination. She hesitated attempted to speak 
 but was so embarrassed that she could not proceed. All 
 
148 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 this Mr. Hollis construed in his favor, and he became more 
 urgent in his protestations, which he continued for some 
 minutes. But Clara had now resumed the command of 
 herself. She expressed her sense of his merits as a gentle 
 man, and sensibility to the preference he had avowed ; and 
 concluded with saying, " that she required time for reflection 
 before she could give a final answer." This was certainly 
 not so much as Mr. Hollis expected ; still, part of the lan 
 guage in which it was couched, might be considered as 
 encouraging. But, embarrassed himself to a considerable 
 extent, and his pride somewhat aroused, at the indecisive 
 manner in which his offer had been met, he expressed some 
 what haughtily his acquiescence in her present determina 
 tion. He then added, " I am under the necessity, Miss Syd- 
 enham, of setting off for Virginia in the morning, and shall 
 be absent two weeks. At the expiration of that period, I 
 will wait upon you for your decision, which, permit me to 
 hope, will be favorable." Taking up his hat, he bowed and 
 went on to the Capitol. 
 
 He had reached the stairs, when he met Charles Leslie. 
 They raised their hats to each other, and passed on. A few 
 minutes sooner, and those three persons, so singularly sit 
 uated, would have met together. The scene between the 
 two who were now to meet, was to be one of no common 
 interest. 
 
 As Charles entered, he saw that Clara was alone, and 
 that she was evidently agitated. He was at no difficulty 
 to account for it, from Hollis s visit ; and with the precipi 
 tancy usual with jealousy, attributed it to the engagement 
 which, he believed, she had just made. There was little 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 149 
 
 time for reflection, for he was under the necessity of speak 
 ing to her, and what was uppermost in his mind, it was a 
 thing of course with him, would be brought forward. " I 
 fear," said he, " that I have timed my visit this morning 
 badly, as I saw a gentleman leave you, agitated, as well as 
 I can judge, as much as you yourself are just now." 
 
 In the tumult of emotions in which Clara was at the 
 moment involved, this speech was most unfortunate. He 
 had asserted a mutual agitation between Hollis and herself, 
 and thus implied a mutual engagement. The manner, too, 
 in which Charles addressed her, though arising in fact from 
 his feelings, appeared to her to be trifling with her own. 
 Her pride was instantly in movement. The only discor 
 dant note in her fine character had been struck violently. 
 
 " Then, Mr. Charles Leslie," said she petulantly, " you 
 saw a gentleman. * 
 
 " And an Infidel," he promptly replied. Fixing his eyes 
 upon her, he added, " I had supposed, that a gentleman 
 who, it is well known, was refused by a lady of high dis 
 tinction in Virginia, on account of his infidel opinions, just 
 before he came on to Congress, would hardly have met so 
 ready an acceptance of his offering at your shrine ; and 
 that too, without the advice of your mother." 
 
 Clara, who had heard this report, only became more 
 piqued, that Charles should have mentioned it. The cool 
 manner in which he spoke, increased likewise her irritation, 
 and. the reference to Mrs. Sydenham s ignorance of her 
 conduct, raised it to its full height. 
 
 " Mr. Leslie," said she, meeting his look as fixedly as his 
 own, " it is a long time that you have taken the liberty to 
 
150 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 make remarks and censures upon my deportment, and I 
 have often told you how disagreeable it is to me. I must 
 now tell you, that as I see there is no probability you will 
 cease it, it would be agreeable, that you cease your visits 
 to me altogether." 
 
 Charles stood motionless for a few moments, his eyes still 
 fixed upon the proud girl. At length he recovered him 
 self. 
 
 " It shall be so," he said, while his voice betrayed the 
 instantaneous emotions produced by so unlooked-for a re 
 pulse. " It shall be so. That I have violently offended 
 you, though unintentionally on my part, I see ; but it is now 
 due to my own character, to explain myself as to the part 
 which I have hitherto acted. That I have long loved you, 
 you must have known ; but how truly I have loved you 
 how anxiously I have watched your conduct, in the hope 
 that I should see you at last superadd to so great personal 
 attractions as you possess, those still more lovely and en 
 during of a mind influenced by religious views and hopes, 
 of all this you knew nothing. You may consider this ac 
 knowledgment as no excuse for my conduct, but your gen 
 erosity, I trust, will admit it as an extenuation of my 
 offence, and cause you to think, in a calmer moment, that 
 the wretchedness which this attachment has produced, had 
 no need to be increased by the harshness of your expres 
 sions. I leave you then, as you bid me ; but hear me for 
 the last time. If your case be not desperate if the Divine 
 Goodness be not exhausted towards you be you sure that 
 the furnace of affliction will yet be kindled for you, and 
 the dross that now alloys so much that is beautiful in your 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 151 
 
 character, will at last be consumed. Farewell," he added, 
 with increasing emotion ; and taking her hand, and bend 
 ing low over it, and pressing it passionately to his lips, she 
 felt a burning tear fall upon it. Turning quickly, he rushed 
 to the door. 
 
 " Charles Charles !" she cried, but he heard her not, and 
 was gone. 
 
 She sat for some moments, motionless ; absorbed in the 
 thoughts, and feelings, and results, which one short hour 
 had brought to bear upon her destiny. Within that period, 
 she had been addressed by one man of elevated standing 
 in society, and had been assured of the attachment of an 
 other whom she had long respected, and whom she had 
 now driven from her in a moment of irritation. But the 
 events had followed each other with such rapidity they 
 induced such a tumult of thoughts and were so power 
 fully to affect her happiness, that she was not able so to fix 
 her mind as to follow up the consequences. She retired to 
 her own room, which fortunately for her, was unoccupied, 
 and gradually her ideas settled into a more regular train ; her 
 position was clear before her, and she saw distinctly that 
 she was now called upon to decide a matter upon which 
 depended all her happiness, for earth certainly, and it might 
 be, for heaven also. To make the climax of her difficul 
 ties, she had no hope of Charles Leslie. She herself had 
 told him to cease his visits, and she knew him too well to 
 think for a moment that he would lower himself by repeat 
 ing his attentions. Her acceptance of Mr. Hollis, was then 
 the ground upon which the battle was to be fought. 
 
 Pride, as usual, was the first to enter the lists. " Charles 
 
152 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Leslie s language to me was too bad," she cried. " Mr. 
 HolJis s offer was readily accepted by me, he says, though 
 rejected by a lady in Virginia, but the other day ; and I am 
 warned as to his infidel opinions. And am I to bear to be 
 told, that I am ready for an offer as soon as it is made ? 
 And am I to be considered as a mere child, not capable of 
 judging how far a man s principles might conduce to my 
 happiness ? And then I am plainly charged with disrespect 
 to my mother ! This interference with my concerns, and 
 censure of my conduct, is what no woman ought to sub 
 mit to, and I was right in dismissing him in the manner I 
 did." 
 
 Then she would reverse the picture and look at it. " I 
 have then," she thought, " driven from me a man whom I 
 have known and respected for years who has loved me 
 long and truly to an union with whom I once looked for 
 ward with a firm belief that his principles could be safely 
 relied upon to secure my happiness. And for what have I 
 done this? Has he told me anything of Mr. Hollis that I 
 was not well aware of before ? Have I no reason to fear 
 in trusting my happiness to a man so utterly destitute of 
 religious principle? Have I not known in others, the 
 misery thus caused ? Certainly, too, it was my duty to 
 have apprized my mother before I suffered Mr. Hollis to 
 go so far as he has ; and yet my pride, aroused the instant 
 that Charles Leslie spoke to me, has overborne everything 
 . has lost me the only man who, I now see, ever loved me 
 as I ought to be loved who was not so blind that he could 
 not see my faults, nor so dishonest as to be silent when he 
 did ! And yet I have told him to leave me ; and told him 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 153 
 
 so in harsh and insulting language !" Her eye then rested 
 upon the hand which he had pressed so passionately to his 
 lips, and she burst into tears. " No, Charles," she cried, 
 " no ; though my hopes that our fates will ever be united, 
 are feeble indeed, yet never never shall mine be united 
 to another s. My respect and affection are yours entirely, 
 and shall lie buried in the ruins of my peace, nor eye nor ear 
 shall invade the sanctuary of the deep deep desolation !" 
 
 In this noble-minded girl, the triumph was as complete 
 as the contest was severe. Pride, the sole defect in her 
 fine character, was defeated by a sound judgment and sen 
 sitive heart, and a decision once thus made, was sure to be 
 unchangeable. The tumult of passions that had agitated 
 her so violently for the day, subsided ; and little of the in 
 ternal conflict she had sustained, could be observed the 
 next morning, other than a shade of sadness which every 
 now and then overcast a countenance heretofore constantly 
 lighted up with grace and animation. The blow struck at 
 her master passion had only made her more lovely and in 
 teresting, while a new incident was about to add strength 
 to her decision. 
 
 Charles Leslie had left Clara, in a state of excessive agi 
 tation from the violent blow which his feelings had received 
 in a dismissal as insulting, as it was unexpected. He knew 
 nothing, of course, of the conflicts of mind which she was 
 under at the time he spoke to her, and he could not there 
 fore fully appreciate her behavior towards him. Under such 
 view as he could take of it, it confirmed his worst fears of the 
 effects which he had always dreaded, that Washington 
 would produce upon her mind and character. But with 
 
 7* 
 
154 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 the principle of submission to the Divine providence, which 
 he had laid down for his government, he bowed to the 
 stroke with humility, though suffering from it severely. 
 He had been sitting for some time to the celebrated Stuart, 
 that great master of his art. for his portrait, which he in 
 tended to send to his mother as soon as completed, for 
 which three sittings more only were required. During the 
 week following his last interview with Clara, it was finished, 
 and hung up in the great artist s room in Pennsylvania 
 Avenue, amongst other efforts of his pencil, and on the 
 right side of the door by which visitors were admitted. 
 
 One day of the week following Mr. Hollis s departure 
 for Virginia, the party at Vanderhorn s had just risen from 
 the breakfast table, and reached the drawing-room, when 
 Mr. O Connor entered in his usual flow of spirits. " And 
 this is a day, sure, ladies dear," said he, " that we have a 
 holiday for Congress ; and so plaise come, and get under 
 my big cloak, and go and see how handsome Misther Stu 
 art has made me look upon canvas. Indeed, and I looked 
 five times, before I could find out it was myself, sure." 
 There was no resisting Mr. O Connor s good humor and 
 gentlemanly bearing at any. time, and the three girls were 
 soon in readiness. A few minutes walk brought them to 
 Stuart s. The attention of the party was first occupied 
 by Mr. O Connor s portrait, which hung opposite to the 
 door by which they had entered ; then by those of the two 
 beautiful Miss Barrys of the city ; when the entrance of 
 another party drawing her attention to the door, Clara first 
 saw Charles s portrait. There was the countenance, 
 though tinged with sadness the expression the perfect 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 155 
 
 resemblance which that great master of his art only could 
 then give. Gazing for one moment intently upon it, the 
 next, she covered her eyes, as if to shut out the sight of 
 something insupportable to her feelings. She then looked 
 at her hand, as if to discover the burning tear which had 
 fallen upon it, forgetting that she had her glove on. Their 
 last parting his last look upon her his passionate pres 
 sure of her hand his warning voice faithful to the last to 
 her happiness, though she had blasted his own were all 
 vividly before her, gave additional force to her attachment, 
 and caused her to feel more bitterly than ever the separa 
 tion she had made. 
 
 It was with difficulty that she retained command of her 
 feelings while the party remained in the room. Fortunately, 
 the girls were so much amused by Mr. O Connor s lively 
 remarks, that they did not observe her, and she thus es 
 caped an addition to her pain which would have been 
 caused by it. 
 
 True to his word, Mr. Hollis made his appearance at the 
 breakfast-table, on the morning he had fixed for his return. 
 Knowing that the gentlemen of Congress would retire to 
 their rooms, and thence go to the House, he wended his 
 way to the drawing-room ; a thought passing through his 
 mind that Clara had gone there to receive him. Upon 
 opening the door, he found himself mistaken. He then 
 touched the bell, and a servant appearing, he sent his re 
 spects and asked permission to see her. Clara soon came 
 down. He scrutinized her closely as she advanced to 
 wards the fireplace and took her seat ; but his penetration 
 was utterly at fault to discover anything by her manner, 
 
156 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 from which he could learn his fate. It was necessary, then, 
 that he should begin where he had left off. Taking his 
 seat near her, " I am faithful to my engagement, as to my 
 return, you see, Miss Sydenham," said he. " May I now 
 hope that I shall receive your acceptance of the offer I 
 made when I had last the pleasure to be with you ?" 
 
 " I have given to the subject, Mr. Hollis," replied Clara, 
 " the consideration which is due to it ; and while I profess 
 myself sensible to your favorable opinion, must inform you 
 at the same time, that there are circumstances which com 
 pel me to decline your offer." 
 
 The Virginian was upon his feet in a moment. 
 
 " Permit me to remark, Miss Sydenham," said he, " that 
 your behavior towards me, authorized me to expect a 
 very different answer ; and I ask to be informed what cir 
 cumstances they are to which you refer. I may be able, 
 in an explanation, to set them aside." 
 
 " I answer to the first, Mr. Hollis," she replied, " that 
 gentlemen are too prone to place upon female behavior a 
 construction which it ought not to bear in justice ; to the 
 second, that it may be due to yourself, I should tell you 
 candidly, that my affections are engaged to another." A 
 deep blush which suffused her whole face and neck, con 
 fessed to the truth of her acknowledgment. 
 
 But this proud man, ignorant of the character he had to 
 deal with, now lost the bearing of the gentleman, in the 
 resentments of the discarded suitor. He stepped back a 
 few paces from Clara, and fixing his eyes upon her, which 
 almost flashed fire, " May I ask further, Miss Sydenham," 
 said he, with a sneer, " the name of the person thus favored, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 157 
 
 and if he is apprized of the honor which you have done 
 him by your preference ?" 
 
 Clara assumed in a moment, all her dignity. 
 
 " In answering you candidly as I did, Mr. Hollis," she re 
 plied, u I did it at the expense of my own feelings, consid 
 ering you as a gentleman. Your last question has con 
 vinced me that I was mistaken. No gentleman would have 
 asked it, and no answer will be given to it." Rising from 
 her chair as she was speaking, she bowed slightly as she 
 passed him, and immediately left the room. The next morn 
 ing it was mentioned at the breakfast-table, that Mr. Hollis 
 had taken lodgings at a fashionable hotel on Pennsylvania 
 Avenue. 
 
 " And what is the maneing of all this ?" said Mr. O Con 
 nor. " Mrs. Stanley went off, no one knows why ; and 
 now Mr. Hollis, after spending the winter with us, off he 
 goes in the spring, without asking any lave of the house, 
 at all, at all. And where is he to find such clever gentle 
 men, and a bit of an Irishman into the bargain, as I am, 
 sure, and three such pretty young ladies. This is too bad ; 
 and Miss Lucy, if you say the word, I will invite him to 
 Bladensburgh, and then bring him back with a bullet in 
 him." 
 
 " No, no, Mr. O Connor," replied Lucy, " it may be that 
 he is wounded already ; and besides, I cannot let you run 
 the risk of a bullet yourself. You know what a favorite 
 you are with us all." 
 
 " And so I am, sure," said he. " But you only tell me 
 so, because you know that I am twice and a half as old as 
 you are." 
 
158 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Lucy laughed. ** That is a mountain indeed, Mr. O Con 
 nor." said she, " that is impassable. But I think that I am 
 bound to help you to another lady, who will suit you 
 better." 
 
 " And that is very kind of you, sure, Miss Lucy," re 
 plied Mr. O Connor ; " so make haste and tell me who it is." 
 
 Lucy put on one of her demurest looks, affecting hesi 
 tation in her manner, and then imitating his Irishisms, she 
 replied, " Mrs. Stanley is the lady, sure, Mr. O Connor : 
 who else ought it to be, at all, at all ?" 
 
 A burst of laughter followed this announcement. O Con 
 nor joined in it as heartily as any one, and telling Lucy, in 
 parliamentary language, that her bill was laid on the table, 
 went off to his seat in the House. 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 159 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 THE spring was now in advance, and as if tired even of 
 excitement itself at last, the company at Washington were 
 breaking off towards every point of our vast Union. Balls 
 and parties had ceased, and dinners, of a family character, 
 rather than as an entertainment, gave note that the inter 
 changes and feelings of friendship were now to be substi 
 tuted for large and expensive parties. Amongst the citi 
 zens of Maryland, who had settled in Washington, was 
 Colonel Beauchamp. of the old army, with his lady, both 
 of them from the same county where the families of the 
 Sydenhams and Leslies resided, and intimate with both. 
 Clara was in the habit of visiting Mrs. Beauchamp, as an 
 old and valued acquaintance of her mother s. Charles also 
 was intimate in the family, and a great favorite of the 
 colonel, with whom he was never tired with conversing, 
 and drawing from him his recital of the hard-fought battles 
 in the South, in most of which the colonel had been en 
 gaged. Mrs. Beauchamp had, by dint of address, and 
 many questions, drawn from Charles an acknowledgment 
 of his long attachment to Clara, though he resolutely re 
 fused any information as to their present position towards 
 each other. All she could learn was, that there existed a 
 coolness on both sides. In one of Clara s visits to her, Mrs. 
 
160 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Beauchamp had pressed her to come and dine with her the 
 next day, and Clara had agreed to do so. As she was tak 
 ing leave, " I should have told you, my dear," said the old 
 lady, " that we shall have no one with us, except indeed, it 
 be Col. Beauchamp s young favorite, Charles Leslie. That 
 will not keep you away, I hope, for he is from your own 
 village, and an acquaintance of your family, I believe." 
 It was too late for Clara to withdraw the acceptance of 
 the invitation she had just given, had she been so disposed, 
 but she was pleased at the course which things had taken, 
 anxiously hoping that something might occur to lead to a 
 renewal of Charles Leslie s attentions. Col. Beauchamp 
 had met him that morning, and had engaged him for the 
 next day, but knew nothing of his lady s invitation to Clara. 
 This was the position of the parties. 
 
 Clara went early the next day to the colonel s, and sat 
 for some time conversing with Mrs. Beauchamp, expect 
 ing every moment to see Charles enter ; but he had been 
 unexpectedly detained much beyond what was usual with 
 him. At length he came in, without being announced, as 
 his intimacy allowed him to do, and to his astonishment, 
 beheld Clara. He stood still for a moment, thoughts rush 
 ing through his mind with the rapidity of lightning. " How 
 is this ?" he thought. " Has she come, knowing I was to 
 be here, to renew our old friendship ? No ; she is too 
 proud for that. To aggravate her former insult by repeat 
 ing it ? No ; she is too noble for that." But he was com 
 pelled to move forward, and say something to her ; but so 
 confused was he, that nothing could be more unfortunate 
 than what he did say. Advancing rapidly, as if by a des- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 161 
 
 perate effort, he expressed his pleasure at seeing her, and 
 then added abruptly, " But what havoc the dissipation of 
 Washington has made with you ! Why, Clara, you are 
 not half so pretty as you were !" Clara was shocked at 
 this rude speech, which sounded like retaliation for the past, 
 and was worse by far, and more unjustifiable than hers, 
 which so deeply wounded his feelings ; but she was mis 
 tress of herself in the emergency, and answered him with 
 her usual grace and good manners. Col. Beauchamp then 
 came in, and the servant entering the room at the same in 
 stant, informed Mrs. Beauchamp that dinner was on the 
 table. 
 
 Charles Leslie was overwhelmed in the torrent of 
 thoughts and conjectures which rushed upon him. Except 
 twice across the Senate Chamber, he had not even seen 
 Clara, and they had never met, till now, since their un 
 happy parting at Vanderhorn s. Of her engagment with 
 Hollis he could learn nothing, but as he knew that he had 
 left his lodgings at Vanderhorn s, he was sure that no en 
 gagement had ever existed. How was it, then, that he 
 now found her at Col. Beauchamp s ? His embarrassment 
 of manner, however, gradually went off, as he performed 
 the civilities of the table, and he was gratified in perceiv 
 ing that Clara received his attentions with evident satisfac 
 tion. By the time they rose from dinner, he found himself 
 in an animated conversation with her, in which she plainly 
 evinced as much pleasure as he did. But another disappoint 
 ment was at hand. They had hardly reached the drawing- 
 room, before Mr. Sydenham s carriage drove up, and the 
 footman coming to the door, delivered a message to Clara, 
 
162 SCEXES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 She immediately prepared for her departure. Charles of 
 fered to arrange her shawl around her ; she suffered him 
 to do it. He took her hand to lead her to the carriage ; 
 she did not withdraw it. He assisted her into it ; she did 
 not object to it. Neither had spoken a word, nor could 
 they. Charles stood by the carriage door, wishing to get 
 into it and see her safe home, but afraid that she would re 
 fuse if he asked her permission ; she anxiously hoping that 
 he would, but ashamed to ask him, because she had once 
 told him never to visit her again. Their eyes met, and 
 were riveted on each other, as if with a presentiment that 
 they would not soon meet again. It was raining. The 
 footman came round to put up the steps then closed the 
 door the carriage rolled away and years rolled away 
 also before they ever met again. 
 
 The match was not yet made in heaven. 
 
 Upon what apparent trifling incidents often depends the 
 happiness or misery of years, and often of life itself! 
 How utterly uncontrollable the circumstances under which, 
 in our fearful moral probation, we are compelled to submit 
 to the dispositions of an overruling Providence. 
 
 As the carriage drove onwards, Clara looked back and 
 saw her lover standing where she had left him, his looks 
 still fixed upon the carriage which held her. It then turned 
 into another street, and she lost sight of him. She was 
 now satisfied, that even the harsh repulse which she had 
 given to him, had not destroyed the deep attachment which 
 he h;id long felt for her that his heart was still hers as 
 she knew that hers was his entirely. But of what avail 
 was all this ? While unlooked-for circumstances brought 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 163 
 
 them together, others as uncontrollable immediately arose 
 to part them. This last blow was terrible ; her agitation 
 became excessive, and throwing herself into one corner of 
 the seat, and covering her face, she burst into tears, and 
 could with difficulty regain her composure by the time the 
 carriage had stopped at her lodgings. 
 
 Hope had now vanished. But this was not the furnace 
 which Charles Leslie had told her was to kindle upon her. 
 It was only the first lesson which all in this world of van 
 ity, have to learn of hopes withered of keen and bitter 
 disappointment ! And so may it be, till we acknowledge 
 that He who has given to us this our glorious existence, best 
 knows how and when to give us all that can conduce to 
 our happiness ; and proves that the wisdom which is per 
 fect, and the love that is infinite, cannot fail to continue in 
 producing a result so beneficent ! 
 
 Charles Leslie, when he had lost sight of the carriage, 
 returned to the drawing-room. 
 
 "Charles, Charles," said Mrs. Beauchamp, "how could 
 you be so rude to Clara ? I really am ashamed for you !" 
 
 >4 1 am more ashamed for myself, madam," replied Charles. 
 " than you can be for me, and sorry besides ; but to tell 
 the truth, which is always best, the unexpected sight of her 
 confused me so completely, that I stammered out the first 
 thing I could, and most unfortunately for me, it was neither 
 true nor gentlemanly. There seems to be an overruling 
 power that still keeps us apart." 
 
 It was evident from all that had just occurred, that some 
 great change had taken place in Clara s mind ; and that 
 her feelings towards Charles Leslie, instead of being de- 
 
164 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 stroyed by the dissipation of Washington, had only been 
 increased. Persuaded, now, that such was the case, 
 Charles determined to see her once more, and satisfy him 
 self, by a conversation with her, how far his present opin 
 ions and hopes were well founded. Here again, adverse 
 circumstances interposed their usual fatality. Two days 
 passed over, and he had not been able to go to Vander- 
 horn s ; on the third he was there, and upon inquiring for 
 Mr. Sydenham, was shown to his room. Upon asking for 
 the young ladies, Mr. Sydenham informed him that they 
 had set off for Baltimore on their return home, in company 
 with Mrs. Marchmont, to that place, but an hour before. 
 " I am sorry, my young friend," he added, " that you did 
 not see them before they left the city. The affair in which 
 I have been so much interested for you is in a fair way, 
 and I am authorized to tell you that you will go to Europe 
 with the first dispatches of importance which may be sent 
 to London and Paris. As yet, the time is not fixed. Com 
 munications from our Ministers at those courts, announce 
 the constant recurrence of events deeply affecting the in 
 terests and honor of our country ; yet so liable to be 
 changed, that definitive instructions cannot hastily be given, 
 whilst also, the next arrival might possibly render them 
 necessary. You will see, then, that you must hold your 
 self in readiness to set off at a moment s warning ; and as 
 you will need some preparation, I advise you to make it at 
 once, and not to leave the city." 
 
 Charles expressed his deep acknowledgment for the in 
 terest which Mr. Sydenham had taken in his behalf, and 
 promised to follow his advice implicitly. Much as he 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 165 
 
 wished to see Clara, and disposed as he was to follow her, 
 he saw that it was out of the question to do so with pro 
 priety, after the counsel which Mr. Sydenham had just 
 given him. He had then again to submit to circumstances 
 unexpected as usual, and as uncontrollable. To this was 
 now to be superadded an absence which he was induced to 
 believe might be of long duration, and then, what might 
 happen in one, two, or even three years ? But reflections 
 like these had no tendency to quiet his harassed feelings, 
 which were now more excited than ever they had been, 
 and he drew to his aid his strong principle of submission 
 to the Divine government, and commenced his prepara 
 tions for his departure. This, however, did not take place 
 so soon as he had been led to expect. Month after month 
 passed away, but the Government had not yet decided upon 
 its measures. Persons yet living, may remember that 
 eventful period when our relations with Great Britain were 
 threatening to end the long peace with which we had been 
 blessed, and the agitation and intense anxiety which spread 
 over the Union. Everything portended war, and the Gov 
 ernment anxiously labored to prevent it by negotiations 
 and offers to the two great belligerents, whose blows at 
 each other fell also upon nations whose interest and policy 
 was peace with both. It was not then till late in the first 
 year of the new administration of Mr. Madison, that 
 Charles Leslie received the Government Dispatches, with 
 orders for his departure for New York, and to take passage 
 from that port for Europe. 
 
 He accordingly set off immediately. Upon his arrival 
 at New York, he found the vessel in which his passage had 
 
166 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 been engaged, detained by adverse winds. Clara was ever 
 present to his thoughts. The circumstances which had so 
 repeatedly arisen to part them, seemed now to have effected 
 a long, perhaps a final separation. With his mind filled 
 with these thoughts, he determined, the night before he 
 sailed, to write to her, believing that in thus giving expres 
 sion to his own feelings, it would not be without its effect 
 upon hers. 
 
 Charles Leslie to Miss Sydenham. 
 
 " Your father, no doubt, has informed you long since, 
 that I was to receive orders from the Government, with 
 dispatches for our Ministers in London and Paris. You 
 will see that I date from New York. We sail in the morn 
 ing. On the eve of a departure from our country, for a 
 time, the duration of which is uncertain, and which I shall 
 not be able to shorten as I might myself wish, I have ven 
 tured to address you. I should indeed have infringed your 
 prohibition, to cease my visits to you, and have followed 
 you to Baltimore, but that Mr. Sydenham counselled me 
 not to leave Washington. 
 
 " You have told me that I was harsh and unkind in my 
 remarks upon your behavior. You may have considered 
 me as presumptuous in my long and deep attachment to 
 you. The first, I may have been, for my feelings were al 
 ways too strong upon such occasions, to be under my con 
 trol. For the latter, I must plead, that with all your fail 
 ings, as I considered them, had I not seen much to respect, 
 to esteem, to love, I had long since ceased even to think 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 167 
 
 of you. But knowing you as I do respecting you as I do 
 loving you as I ever shall ; to cease to be interested for 
 your happiness, be where I may on earth, was, is still, and 
 will be, impossible. Forgive then, the past ; and now fare 
 well, noblest of women, farewell. Should it be that another 
 may attract your attention, may you find an attachment as 
 deep, a love as true as that I have felt for you ; but never 
 never intrust your happiness to one who rejects the Redeem 
 er of the world. And if distress assail you, and hope for this 
 world expire, seek it from Heaven, and believe me, I be 
 seech you, when I tell you, that you will find it ; and as 
 Heaven only can give it, so none can take it away." 
 
 Clara was sitting alone in her room one afternoon, when 
 her servant came in, and handed to her Charles Leslie s 
 letter. Upon reading the first lines, which announced his 
 departure for Europe, she became pale as ashes. As she 
 read on, the blood returned to her face, and suffused it with 
 a deep blush. Pain at the separation which had taken 
 place, was mingled with pleasure at his acknowledgment 
 of his still enduring affection. " Heaven preserve him ;" 
 she passionately exclaimed, clasping her hands together. 
 " Perhaps Heaven may give us to meet again, when I may 
 be more deserving of him than I have been." 
 
168 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 THE vessel in which Charles Leslie had taken his berth, 
 made sail the morning after he had written to Clara. After 
 a boisterous passage of forty-five days, he arrived at Liv 
 erpool, and taking post immediately, soon reached London, 
 and delivered the dispatches with which he was intrusted. 
 There he was compelled to remain some time, until our 
 Minister had his letters prepared for the embassy at Paris, 
 and could make arrangements by which he could reach 
 that city. But this was no easy matter. The two coun 
 tries were then engaged in that bloody strife, which was not 
 ended but with the total overthrow of the Emperor, and 
 all direct intercourse was cut off between them. As our 
 own relations with Great Britain were constantly becom 
 ing more embroiled, and more threatening in their aspect, 
 our Minister was unwilling to request any favor from her 
 with respect to Charles Leslie s mission, and determined 
 that he should land in the north of Europe, and proceed 
 thence to France. Furnishing him accordingly with the 
 necessary papers, Charles sailed for Hamburg, and thence 
 went on to Paris, and delivered to our Minister at that 
 court, the dispatches which he had received for hhn at 
 Washington. 
 
 More than two years passed away, before all the pur- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 169 
 
 poses for which he had visited Europe, were accomplished. 
 At this time also, the near approach of war with Great 
 Britain, which was now seen to be inevitable, warned him 
 that it was high time he should return home. Fortunately 
 for him, he was able, through the influence of our Ambas 
 sador at Paris, to obtain a passage in a cartel from Ostend, 
 bound to London. There receiving dispatches for our 
 Government, he took post to Bristol, where a vessel was 
 loading for Baltimore, and in a few days was on the ocean. 
 The voyage was uncommonly pleasant, and on the thir 
 tieth day after leaving England, they saw the Capes of 
 the Chesapeake. When the man at the mast-head an 
 nounced land in sight, Charles rushed upon deck. " My 
 own dear native land," he cried, " may Heaven preserve 
 you ever from the vice and misery which aristocracy 
 has so strongly bound upon unhappy Europe." A favor 
 able wind carried the ship rapidly up our broad Chesa 
 peake, and in twenty-four hours, she was safely moored in 
 harbor. Charles set off the next morning for Washington. 
 He found Congress in the session which resulted in the 
 declaration of war against Great Britain. This important 
 decision, which had been finally made, was approved by a 
 large majority of the people, who prepared to meet the conse 
 quences with firmness ; while it was violently opposed by g 
 party too prone to sacrifice the honor and interest of thei: 
 country to their personal resentments, or hopes of personr i 
 aggrandizement. The remnant of Federalism, which had 
 still some life left in it, had recourse to all the arts and man 
 agement with which its leaders were familiar, to turn the 
 popular feeling against the administration ; and losing sight 
 
 8 
 
170 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 of the duties which they owed to their country, justified the 
 wrongs which Great Britain had heaped upon us for years. 
 Not content with this, they resisted alike the measures pro 
 posed for raising troops, or imposing taxes, and pushed on 
 five of the States to an opposition as unconstitutional as it 
 was devoid of patriotism. The remembrance of these 
 times may be of use to us now, and in future, and in the 
 political changes to which we are subjected, may warn us 
 not to trust any man who pursues his personal ambition at 
 the expense of his country. 
 
 The consideration in which Charles Leslie was held by 
 the Government, obtained for him immediate employment 
 at the South, and he was ordered to repair immediately to 
 his station. Whatever personal motives might have ope 
 rated with him for a delay of some time in his native State, 
 they had to give way to the more important duties which 
 the country now required from all. The sound of war 
 was heard throughout the length and breadth of our vast 
 Union, and our unprepared state everywhere rendered 
 more imperative the instant and strenuous efforts of all en 
 gaged in the public service. Delay of course was impos 
 sible : he set off immediately, and soon reached the station 
 to which he was ordered. 
 
 It would be irrelevant to go into details of our operations 
 during this trying period to our young country, or to ani 
 madvert upon the impolicy of our Government in commen 
 cing a war when no adequate preparations had been made 
 to meet it, nor to express mortification at the repeated dis 
 graces which our arms suffered in our first essays upon 
 land. A short time, however, was sufficient to prove, that 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 171 
 
 the bravery of our people was equal to their firmness, and 
 that the sons, in the second war of Independence, had not 
 degenerated from their fathers in the first. Our blood was 
 poured out like water in the South and West, and left im 
 perishable monuments of valor and patriotism, contrasting 
 brilliantly with the apathy of the North, which could not be 
 aroused, though the enemy had seized upon a part of their 
 territory. Our navy, from the first, showed the high tone of 
 professional character of our gallant officers and seamen, 
 and never failed, when a disastrous defeat on land was an 
 nounced, to arouse the national spirit by a victory at sea, 
 over our proud enemy. " Modest Isaac Hull," as John 
 Randolph called him, but as brave as modest, and as intelli 
 gent as brave, led the way in these brilliant achievements. 
 He was soon followed by others of merit equal to his own ; 
 some of whom still live to reap the reward of esteem and 
 respect from their grateful and admiring countrymen, while 
 those who are gone illuminate the page of our history with 
 a blaze which, at some future day, may light others on the 
 same road. As a nation, we were tried by sea and land. 
 As a nation, we stood the trial firmly, and for the reward 
 of our perseverance and bravery, now rank with the first 
 on earth. 
 
 During the whole period of the war, Charles Leslie had 
 been actively employed. From his boyhood, when he 
 read of our wrongs as colonists, he had detested the Gov 
 ernment which had inflicted them. Devoted to republican 
 institutions, which the old classic writers present in such 
 bright colors to young and ardent minds, he saw, in matu- 
 rer life, in those of his native land, what far excelled those 
 
172 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 of Greece or Rome. The contest, he saw, was between 
 republicanism and aristocracy. If we failed, the latter 
 might wave its black banner over the New World as it had 
 waved it over the Old ; if we stood firm, republicanism 
 might, by the influence of our example, help to redeem the 
 earth from the combined power of kings, priests, and nobles. 
 With these incentives, added to a strong sense of moral 
 duty, Charles Leslie exerted all his powers in the execu 
 tion of orders transmitted to him from Washington. Du 
 ties arduous and important were repeatedly confided to 
 him, and repeated acknowledgments from the Government, 
 of the fidelity, promptitude, and efficiency with which they 
 were performed, showed the high appreciation in which his 
 services were held. Peace, unexpected, but welcome to 
 all, suddenly put an end to the fearful preparations for an 
 other campaign, which threatened to waste more human 
 blood than all that had preceded it. 
 
 The war w r as followed by cessation from the toils, priva 
 tions, and sufferings it had caused to all engaged in it. 
 Business of every kind was resumed with the energy pe 
 culiar to our countrymen, and commerce soon gave to the 
 Government an increase of revenue, vast in amount, and 
 established our credit upon the firmest basis. The people 
 of the United States, elated with the manner in which our 
 sailors and soldiers had, a second time, met the disciplined 
 forces of England in battle, now looked forward to a period 
 when, by the increase of our population, and the develop 
 ment of our resources, we might claim and hold a high posi 
 tion amongst the nations of the earth. What we could do, 
 was now evident, and it was just as much so, that our fu- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 173 
 
 ture position was to exact from Europe a justice and a 
 courtesy hitherto denied to our young country. 
 
 Several years had now elapsed since Charles Leslie had 
 heard anything of the family of the Sydenhams, other than 
 that he saw in the public papers, the name of Mr. Syden- 
 ham still amongst those of the Representatives at Wash 
 ington, and had been told that his son Frederick, had lost his 
 life by an accident. Beyond this he knew nothing. Long 
 absence from his native State, new scenes, new associa 
 tions, much business, and many years, all combined to pro 
 duce somewhat of their usual effect. The possibility of an 
 union with Clara, though still recurring to his mind, and as 
 often cherished when it came, had yet been weakened by 
 the many circumstances under which he had been placed. 
 Their repeated separations too, at the moment when an ex 
 planation seemed to be certain, as he looked upon them as 
 providential, so he had resigned himself to them. A strange 
 circumstance, was now to excite his interest in her, with 
 all the energy with which a first and deep attachment in 
 youth, though it may be weakened for a time, is so sure to 
 return. 
 
 Some time after peace was proclaimed, Charles found 
 himself residing in New Orleans, his room situated oppo 
 site to Maspero s coffee-house. It was his custom to read 
 late at night, having found in Bayles great dictionary, a 
 fund of information which seemed inexhaustible. All that 
 man ever thought or ever acted, seemed to be comprised 
 in that celebrated work. Of course he became deeply in 
 terested in it. But his thoughts in sleep, instead of receiv 
 ing their impressions from what had so much engaged him 
 
174 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 when awake, were of a different character altogether. He 
 dreamed incessantly of Clara Sydenham. At first this did 
 not strike him in the least as a matter to be thought of. It 
 was a dream, and he let it pass for a dream ; but it returned 
 so often, that at last, waking up suddenly one morning, he 
 exclaimed, " What can all this mean ? My thoughts of her 
 when awake do not account for why her form, her features, 
 should be thus constantly before me in my dreams ? Why 
 we should be interchanging thoughts and emotions, as if 
 our attachment had never known interruption ? It is very 
 very strange, and I cannot account for it." 
 
 About two weeks after this, the servant ushered a gen 
 tleman into his room, whom Charles was acquainted with 
 in Baltimore, and who, he was aware, could give him all 
 the information he desired respecting his relatives and 
 friends in Maryland. 
 
 " I am heartily glad to see you, Saunders," said Charles. 
 " You have come down by the way of the river, I find, from 
 the work the mosquitos have done upon your face. What 
 has brought you to this country of sugar and cotton and 
 yellow fever ? Sit down : I have a thousand inquiries to 
 make of my relatives and friends. It is a long time since 
 I passed a month in old Maryland." 
 
 Conversation now followed. " Yes ; I was informed," 
 said Charles, "of my mother s death, before I left England. 
 Indeed, when I last saw her, I was aware that her age and 
 infirmities left little hope that I should ever see her again 
 on earth. How forcibly the loss of the last parent strikes 
 upon the heart of the last child ! How unavailing our re 
 grets ! But there is another and a better world. But my 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 175 
 
 uncle James ; tell me, Saunders, does the old man yet 
 live ?" 
 
 " He does," replied Mr. Saunders, " and with the respect 
 and attachment of all who know him." 
 
 " That it would be so, if he were alive, I never doubted. 
 No man of his generation has more adorned Christianity 
 by his example or been more extensively useful in his pro 
 fession. May mercy and peace be multiplied to him. But 
 tell me, where does Mr. Sydenham reside now, and what 
 has befallen his family ?" 
 
 " Mr. Sydenham," replied Mr. Saunders, " has retired to 
 his farm, where he now lives, with Mrs. Sydenham and 
 Miss Clara. Miss Agnes died four years since." 
 
 " Agnes dead !" said Charles. " So young so beauti 
 ful ! This is sad indeed. What a world this is of misery 
 or of disappointment ! Frederick, too, I learn, is gone. 
 But Clara, is she married ?" 
 
 " No," replied Saunders, " and no likelihood of it, that I 
 have heard of. She has lived in great retirement for a 
 long time. Distresses in the family, of a pecuniary nature, 
 arising out of security which Mr. Sydenham gave for others, 
 then Miss Agnes death, and after that, Frederick s, all com 
 bined to press heavily upon her. She is rarely to be seen 
 anywhere except at church, and it was there I last saw her, 
 about six months since. Her features and form remain the 
 same, I think, as when you last parted with her ; though 
 the first are constantly overcast with a settled melancholy, 
 and she is perhaps thinner than formerly. This account 
 will prepare you for what I have now to tell you. She is 
 become very religious/ 
 
176 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 Charles Leslie started. " What is it you say ? Clara 
 Sydenham become very religious ! Is it possible !" 
 
 " It is not only possible, but certain," replied Mr. Saun- 
 ders. " Why, you yourself, I thought, must have known 
 the dreadful state of mind she was in, before she joined the 
 church, and which she informed you of, in the letter she 
 wrote to you." 
 
 " The letter she wrote to me, Saunders, and on that ac 
 count !" said Charles. ** What on earth are you talking 
 about ? I never received any letter : I never even heard 
 of it before this moment." 
 
 " It is all true, notwithstanding." replied Mr. Saunders, 
 " for it was talked about a long while, and the letter, there 
 is no doubt, must have been read by several persons. Aye ! 
 now I understand it, I think. The letter, as I was told, 
 was addressed to you at Charleston, and probably, sent to 
 the post-office, a few miles distant from Mr. Sydenham s. 
 The servant either lost it, or it was stolen from the office, 
 and thus fell into the hands of some unprincipled wretch, 
 who made this dishonorable use of it. But enough of this, 
 if you please, at present," he added. " I am here unex 
 pectedly, and unwillingly. My business relates neither to 
 * sugar nor cotton, and I should be very sorry that the yel 
 low fever, the constant visitor of this city, should find me 
 here, and acclimate me, as I think you call it. My wish 
 and request is, that you will attend to the settlement of the 
 affair which has brought me down, and which I will explain 
 to you. It is neither intricate nor troublesome, and will 
 engage your time and attention for a short time only. 
 Reports that the fever is amongst the flat-boats from the 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 177 
 
 West, have alarmed me, and as a vessel is on the point of 
 leaving this port for Baltimore, I wish to seize the opportu 
 nity of a passage in it." 
 
 " Certainly," said Charles ; " it will be a pleasure to me 
 to be of any service to you in my power. Let me know 
 in what way I can do it." 
 
 Mr. Saunders proceeded immediately to an explanation 
 of his business, and leaving the necessary papers with his 
 friend, rose from his seat, and offering Charles Leslie his 
 hand, * I must bid you now farewell," he said ; <; this will 
 be my first voyage to sea, and I must make some prepara 
 tion for it, especially for defence, I am told, against the 
 mosquitos, in descending the river. But tell me, when do 
 you expect to visit old Maryland ?" 
 
 " You may say, that probably it will be very soon," re 
 plied Charles. 
 
 Charles, after seeing his friend to the street door, re 
 turned to his own room, and threw himself into his arm 
 chair, completely absorbed in the rush of thoughts and 
 emotions which all that Mr. Saunders had just told him, 
 was so calculated to produce. The coincidence of time, 
 and the information itself so quickly following the impres 
 sions of Clara, so lately and so strangely made upon his 
 mind, could not but agitate him excessively. He sat a long 
 while immovable, lost in deep thought, recalling to his rec 
 ollection her form, her features, their many hours of inter 
 course, and her last and fixed look, when they last parted. 
 " Is this then the hand of Providence now manifested ? he 
 exclaimed, starting from his seat and pacing the floor. " It 
 may be so. Information so strangely given of the letter 
 
178 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 she wrote to me impressions of her so often and so forci 
 bly compelling my attention the certainty that she has 
 adopted a religious course, it would be wonderful indeed, 
 if after all, what of life may be left for both of us, should 
 be passed together. Anyhow, she shall have the offer 
 of it." 
 
 He took his resolution to return to Maryland the first 
 opportunity. In a week afterwards, having dispatched 
 Mr. Saunders s business, he took passage in the ship Cum 
 berland, then loading, and bound for Philadelphia. The 
 vessel in a run of twenty days, cast her anchor near the 
 lazaretto, and a steamboat coming down early in the morn 
 ing, gave to him an opportunity of going on to Baltimore 
 immediately, and the evening of the same day found Charles 
 Leslie in that city. 
 
 His inquiries respecting the family of the Sydenhams, 
 confirmed all that Mr. Saunders had mentioned ; and 
 Charles lost no time in the execution of the purpose which 
 had brought him to Maryland. Taking passage in the 
 packet which made her trip regularly once a week, he was 
 the next morning set ashore in the small boat, at the lower 
 end of Mr. Sydenham s garden. The old family servant 
 took his baggage, but had forgotten him. Charles followed 
 him to the house. " How strange it is to me," he thought, 
 " to find myself here ; and stranger still the purpose, inter 
 rupted for years, that has brought me ! We meet then once 
 more, and now she will be mine, or we are indeed parted 
 forever !" He was now in the drawing-room, where Mrs. 
 Sydenham met him, but how changed ! Time and trouble 
 had made sad havoc with her appearance, but had dimin- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 179 
 
 ished nothing of her fine manners or affectionate feelings. 
 After the first expressions of pleasure at meeting again, 
 both were silent for some time thoughts of the past, never 
 to return of friends to be seen no more on earth engrossed 
 them entirely. Mrs. Sydenham at length spoke. " You 
 find us, Charles," she said, " in a very different situation 
 from that in which you knew us long since. I have known 
 much sickness and much wretchedness since I last saw you. 
 Agnes death was a heavy blow, and the loss of Frederick 
 since both together have pressed upon us all with a heavy 
 weight indeed. Clara is all that is now left us. She is so 
 greatly changed you will hardly know her. She rode to 
 town a few hours since, and I am expecting her return 
 every moment." Mr. Sydenham here came in, and re 
 ceived Charles with great cordiality. He had much to in 
 quire of him respecting his movements, since they parted 
 last at Washington ; and expressed to Charles the high 
 gratification he felt from the manner in which he knew his 
 services were appreciated by the Government. Charles, 
 on his part, expressed his gratitude to Mr. Sydenham for 
 his influence, through which he well knew it was, that he 
 had been employed. 
 
 " In thanking you, sir," said Charles, " for what you have 
 done in my behalf, it is a satisfaction to me, indeed, to hear 
 you say that I have not disgraced your recommendation." 
 
 Clara had been to the neighboring village, and was now 
 returning in company with her cousin, Miss Lacy, with 
 whom she was conversing, when the carriage stopped at 
 the door. Turning her face at the moment towards the 
 
180 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 house, " Gracious heaven !" she exclaimed, " there is Mr. 
 Leslie." 
 
 ** Do you know me, Clara ?" he asked. She made no 
 answer, but by holding out her hand to him, as she still sat 
 in the carriage. He assisted her out, and they walked on 
 wards to the house, neither uttering a word. With Charles 
 the hopes of years would now be realized, or blasted for 
 ever. With Clara, the sudden surprise at seeing him in so 
 unexpected a manner, was mingled with pleasure at meet 
 ing him again. With both, the feelings of years were com 
 pressed into the moment which again saw them together. 
 
 The day was now gone and the evening far advanced. 
 " You reject me, then, Clara," said Charles, after a long 
 conversation. " At the first moment that was possible to 
 me, within a single week after I heard of your religious 
 views, I hastened to you. You know how long I loved 
 you, and how truly. Refuse not a heart so long devoted 
 to you. Beloved as lovely ; are we not now of the same 
 faith, with the same hope, travelling the same road to our 
 Father s house ? I will strive to help you forward, and 
 you can help me. Disappoint not the hope which your 
 adoption of a religious life has, at last, suffered me to 
 cherish." 
 
 To this passionate appeal he could obtain no answer but 
 a mournful dissent, expressed by a movement of her head, 
 accompanied by floods of tears. Charles pressed his suit 
 again and again, by every motive he could think of. Clara 
 talked with him fieely upon other subjects, but when he 
 touched upon their union for life, the same mournful move 
 ment of her head, the same floods of tears, attested the bit- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 181 
 
 terness of some internal strife which was agitating her thus 
 cruelly. The servant at length showed Charles to his 
 room. 
 
 He took off his coat, and threw himself across the bed. 
 To sleep was out of the question. The affair in which his 
 feelings and his happiness had been so long deeply inter 
 ested, appeared still to be involved in a mystery which he 
 was unable to penetrate. Day broke, and found him in the 
 same position. Aroused by the first streaks of dawn which 
 came through the blinds of the windows, it became neces 
 sary that he should decide upon his course. ** I have once 
 more, then," he said as he arose, " seen that graceful form ; 
 that face, now chastened in its expression, by sorrow and 
 suffering, but more interesting than when lighted up with 
 all the gayety of youth ; I have pressed her lips to mine for 
 the first time, and it is to be the last. What strange mys 
 tery hangs over this affair ! But she rejects me. Heaven 
 knows what is best for us both, and the will of Heaven 
 be done. Thus I began, and thus will 1 end. I will leave 
 Mr. Sydenham s in the morning." 
 
 " Will you be so kind, sir, said Charles to him, an hour 
 after breakfast, " as to let Harry take me to town this morn 
 ing ? I must see my old uncle before I return, and I can 
 get a conveyance thence to his house." 
 
 Charles, at this moment, was standing by Clara s chair. 
 "You must not go," she said in a low voice, pointing to a 
 seat near her. Mr. Sydenham, at the same time pressing 
 his stay, Charles agreed to do so. 
 
 In the course of a long conversation , during the day, 
 
182 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " Clara," said Charles to her, " will you tell me one thing -I 
 am very desirous of knowing ?" 
 
 " What is that?" she inquired. 
 
 " During our long intercourse, has it ever been, that I had 
 any interest in your affections ?" 
 
 " You had," was the answer. 
 
 " And yet," said he, " though there were times when I 
 hoped it was so, I never remained long satisfied. True 
 love, I see, is a fastidious inmate, ready enough to appre 
 ciate to its fullest value, the object beloved, but quite as 
 ready, for that very reason, to depreciate what it has to 
 offer in exchange. I always thought you deserved much 
 more than I had to give." 
 
 " I did not think so," she replied. " You know nothing 
 I find, of what passed at Vanderhorn s after that wretched 
 morning when I last saw you there. In accepting Mrs. 
 Beauchamp s invitation to dinner, for she had told me that 
 you would be at her house, I hoped that some circumstan 
 ces might arise to lead to an explanation. The manner in 
 which you first spoke to me, banished that hope for the 
 moment, and the unexpected early arrival of the carriage, 
 afforded no further opportunity. But why did you not go 
 with me to General Thompson s ? How ardently I was 
 hoping you would !" 
 
 "And how ardently I was wishing to do so," said 
 Charles, " but thought that you would be offended if I got 
 into the carriage of my own motion, and there I stood in 
 the rain, hoping )^ou would invite me. I behaved very 
 badly that day ; but the truth is, that having no idea that I 
 should meet you at dinner, for I had no intimation what- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 183 
 
 ever that you had been invited, the unexpected sight of 
 you threw me into such confusion that I knew neither what 
 I said nor did, at the moment. I had hoped, during dinner, 
 that perhaps I had not offended you past forgiveness ; but 
 as soon as the carriage was announced, I thought I saw 
 plainly that you had come to show you could pay the re 
 spect which you considered as due to an old acquaintance 
 of your mother, and at the same time prove, by your early 
 departure, that you cared nothing for the company which 
 she had invited." 
 
 "Nothing of all this was the fact," she replied. "The 
 arrival of the carriage at so early an hour, was a mistake 
 of the servant. But I see plainly, that Divine Providence 
 ordered it all. As the carriage went on, I looked back, 
 and saw you standing where I had left you. When it 
 turned into another street and I lost sight of you, it was a 
 bitter moment ; but I will not tell you what I felt. It was 
 necessary, no doubt, that it should be so ; and as much so 
 that I should pass through great trials and distresses. The 
 furnace you told me of was soon to be kindled for me, and 
 oh ! how fiercely it burned ! Charles, Charles you know 
 not what I have suffered." Clara burst into tears. 
 
 " And with this sweet acknowledgment," said Charles, 
 " can it be that you reject me ? And is our next parting 
 to be really forever ? Dearest and loveliest, I again ask 
 you, to confide to my keeping, the happiness of your life, 
 more precious to me, by far, than all this world can offer." 
 
 " My mother," was all she could say, as deeply affected, 
 her head fell upon his shoulder. 
 
 " I understand you," said Charles, " but there need be no 
 
184 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 separation from her. I have business at Washington which 
 will engage me for a considerable time, nor indeed, is it 
 probable that I shall continue in the public service much 
 longer, under any circumstances. Will that do, dearest ? 
 Say that you will be mine. You will not answer ? Then 
 tell me by one look of confidence may I say of love." 
 
 She cast her dark eyes upon him, and he pressed her to 
 his heart, in one long long embrace. 
 
 " Charles," said Clara to him the next morning, " I wish 
 you would not use some expressions to me that you do. 
 You may call me dearest as often as you please, for I 
 like that ; but pray do not say * loveliest, any more. You 
 see how old I look. You know that you told me, the last 
 time I saw you, that I was not half so pretty as I was, and 
 now you talk to me, as if I were prettier than ever." 
 
 " And so you are," replied Charles. " You have the 
 same dark eye the same features and expression chast 
 ened, it is true, by all you have suffered, but only adding 
 to your loveliness." Clara here raised her hand as if to 
 stop him, but seizing it, and pressing it passionately to his 
 lips, "besides, dearest," he added, "you possess now the 
 greatest charm of all, the beauty of holiness. But come, 
 give me your company for a walk. The weather is de 
 lightful ; exercise and air will be of service to you, and 
 will bring back the rose to your cheek." 
 
 Clara went out for her hat, and returning in a few mo 
 ments, placed her arm within his. 
 
 " It is a long while, Charles," she said, " since we ram 
 bled together ; but often and often have I trod the path, 
 along which I am about to lead you, attended by Ann, 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 185 
 
 whom you see now running after me. For months, during 
 which I suffered such mental agonies, I was accustomed to 
 take this path until it comes to the water ; then following 
 the shore for half a mile, a slight^levation of ground is 
 seen, and upon it, five large oaks. ^TJpon a projecting root 
 of one, I was used to sit. It is a spot almost sacred to 
 me. But come along, you must see it." 
 
 A few minutes more brought them to the place. The 
 elevation of the ground, though not great, was sufficient to 
 enlarge the beautiful prospect which spread out before 
 them. The oaks were the growth of more than a century 
 close together, of great height, and of the thickest foliage 
 to be seen upon that noblest tree of our American forests. 
 For sixty feet around their trunks, was spread a verdant 
 turf, here and there enamelled with the violet and white 
 clover ; while still further outwards, the wild honeysuckle 
 and sweet-brier, growing in profusion and in full bloom, 
 flung their fragrance to the air. The eye ranged over a 
 vast expanse of water, formed by an indent of the Chesa 
 peake ; on the w r estern shore, high hills appeared in the 
 distance, on the eastern, the flat surface peculiar to it, seen 
 through the mist ; while clouds of square-rigged vessels 
 from abroad, and the bay craft, whitened the water with 
 their sails, as they bore to our great port, the products of 
 foreign countries, or of our own. The waves struck the 
 shore with gentle undulations, filling the ear with their soft 
 and soothing murmur. 
 
 " How very beautiful !" said Charles, as his eye took in 
 the whole view before him. 
 
 " It is so," replied Clara, " but it is not that which so en- 
 
18(5 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 cleared it to me. It was here that I was accustomed to 
 come and sit with our poor Frederick, and here I returned 
 so often, to indulge my grief for his loss. It became at 
 last so much a habit witji me, that I rarely omitted a visit 
 to it, unless the weather prevented me. Under w r hat dif 
 ferent circumstances am I now here !" 
 
 " Different indeed, dearest !" said Charles, " and ever 
 adored be that power and goodness whicli have thus per 
 mitted it. But sit down on your old seat ; there is room 
 for us both, I see, and give me an account of all that you 
 have passed through, since we last met ; and especially of 
 those exercises of mind through which you found the peace 
 that God only can bestow." 
 
 They seated themselves accordingly, Clara s hand clasped 
 in his, while Ann busied herself in collecting nosegays of 
 the flowers which were growing around. 
 
 " Do you remember, Charles," Clara began, " the morn 
 ing we parted at Vanderhorn s, when I behaved so badly 
 to you V 
 
 " Remember it," he replied ; " how could I ever forget 
 it ? Accuse yourself of nothing upon that occasion. I 
 had no right to take you to task so severely, for I was more 
 to blame than you were, and your reproof was what I de 
 served. But it almost distracted me. I needed for a long 
 time, all the religious principle I could draw upon, to sus 
 tain myself under it ; and though the disappointment which 
 I then considered as final, was submitted to as a dispensa 
 tion of Providence, still it was severe indeed." 
 
 " I was about to tell you," said Clara, " it was from that 
 I date the commencement of the new views I began to 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 187 
 
 have of life. I saw, that in a moment of irritation, and 
 from feelings, which my pride whispered to me, you had 
 causelessly wounded, I had driven you from me forever. 
 This brought before me the real state of my affections for 
 you ; and hopeless as my attachment was, this knowledge 
 induced, a few days after, a prompt rejection of Mr. 
 Hollis." 
 
 " Is it possible !" said he, interrupting her. " But it was 
 nobly done, and like yourself. I never heard this before, 
 though both my observation and inquiries, in which jeal 
 ousy prompted me to no little diligence, led me at last to 
 believe it ; though I never thought it had been induced by 
 any preference for me. But, go on." 
 
 " My attachment for you," she continued, " founded upon 
 my respect for your character, forbade the possibility of my 
 union with another, while my feelings remained as they 
 were. But hope, as it regarded you, was dead within me. 
 True, it revived for a moment at Colonel Beauchamp s, but 
 the immediate disappointment that followed, destroyed it 
 again. I had, by this time, known enough of Washington, 
 to be fully disgusted with it ; and Agnes and myself left it 
 for Baltimore, in company with Mrs. Marchmont, upon our 
 return home. My father told us subsequently, that you 
 had called to see us, but an hour after we had set off, and 
 this was some relief to me ; but as he told us also, that you 
 were soon to sail for Europe, I sank still deeper in gloom. 
 I received your letter from New York with an emotion 
 which I cannot describe, and have kept it to this hour. 
 How often have I read it, and re-read it ! Satisfied now 
 of your attachment, my mind sunk into resignation at the 
 
188 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 state, in which I had some indistinct ideas, Divine Provi 
 dence had placed me. Further than this, I had, as yet, 
 no knowledge of religion. What you had frequently said 
 upon this subject, often recurred to my recollection ; but I 
 had not been brought to see the necessity of it, as a rule 
 of conduct, or as a source of happiness. But circumstan 
 ces were rapidly hastening this. The first was, Agnes 
 death. The insidious and fatal disease, which finally tore 
 from me that gentle and lovely sister, assumed its usual 
 appearance, sometimes threatening a speedy termination of 
 her life, and then again flattering us with the hope of her 
 speedy recovery. My mind was thus harassed and dis 
 tressed for two years. At last, the blow so long uplifted, 
 fell ; and I need not say how heavy it was. The long con 
 tinuance of her illness, however, and its fatal conclusion, 
 were not without their salutary effect upon myself. Death, 
 as I saw, was certain for all, and possible even for the 
 young. A deep gloom now fell upon me. To find myself 
 cut off in a moment, from the society of her with whom I 
 had passed so many happy days, was dreadful. Every 
 thing reminded me of Agnes. Then again would return 
 thoughts of the deep, dark grave, which must finally re 
 ceive us all ; then of that other world revealed to us in the 
 Scriptures. My distress increased, but I was yet far in 
 deed from knowing that greater depth to which I was to 
 sink. I had once heard you describe your own exercises 
 of mind to my mother, and remembered your solemn dec 
 laration to her, that we might know our reconciliation 
 with Heaven, and I never forgot it, even in my gayest mo- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 189 
 
 ments at Washington. But, strange to tell, I never saw 
 that I was in the very state which you had described." 
 
 " The Scriptures, Clara," said Charles, " speak of this. 
 It was the * light shining in darkness, but the darkness com 
 prehended it not. " 
 
 "I was now wretched, indeed," she continued. "My 
 father s pecuniary embarrassments, arising out of security 
 which he had given for others, who had grossly abused the 
 confidence which he had placed in them, and increased by 
 the distresses arising out of the war, were bearing heavily 
 upon us all. The comforts and enjoyments which we had 
 been accustomed to all our lives, were no longer in our 
 power, and it became necessary that resources which my 
 father hitherto had disregarded, should be made available, 
 if possible. To accomplish this, my brother was sent to the 
 South. Letters from him were received for some months, 
 detailing his progress, and giving hopes of ultimate suc 
 cess, when suddenly they ceased altogether. Week suc 
 ceeded to week, and we heard nothing ; and months then 
 followed, leaving us in this fearful uncertainty. At last, 
 we received intelligence from a gentleman with whom my 
 father had been acquainted in Congress, of his melancholy 
 fate. He had fallen a victim to the climate. Oh ! that 
 day ! that dreadful day ! I shall never forget it. The 
 gloom which had so long hung upon me, now deepened 
 into the very blackness of darkness. Hope for this world 
 there was none ; and I turned to look for it from another. 
 The Bible was constantly open before me, and I read it 
 incessantly, with prayer to the Almighty for light. One 
 passage in particular, was of the greatest .use to me. If 
 
190 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 any man will do His will, he shall know of the doctrine, 
 whether it be of God, or whether I speak of myself. 
 Here I took my stand, determined to rely upon the promise. 
 And here I will relate to you a fact, which I assure you is 
 true, to prove what a merciful and Almighty influence was 
 thrown around me, when my mind was thus cruelly exer 
 cised. There was a gentleman residing with us at the 
 time, a brother of my cousin, whom you saw with me in the 
 carriage ; who was in the constant habit of denying the 
 truths of revelation, and ridiculing the facts related in the 
 Scriptures. At first, his words cut like swords ; but as 
 often as he began, the passage I have referred to would 
 come up vividly to my mind. Thus I bore the conflict for 
 some days. Though my faith in the Bible could not be 
 overthrown, it was not such but that cavils and objections 
 could make me miserable. But Heaven now interposed for 
 me. Whatever was said, had no longer the slightest effect. 
 Indeed, though I distinctly heard every word that was ut 
 tered, they conveyed not one single idea to my mind. I 
 have often thought, with wonder and gratitude, of this in 
 stance of the Divine goodness in my unhappy case ; and I 
 doubt not that it is very common, in some measure or de 
 gree, with the most of those who are seeking reconcilia 
 tion with God." 
 
 " No doubt of it, whatever," said Charles. " The promise 
 is, that * He will make a way for their escape, from the 
 temptation. This interposition was indeed glorious ; yet, 
 to assert it, is considered as fanaticism or madness by the 
 world, though tens of thousands bear testimony to the 
 truth of it. Your exercises of mind were indeed terrific." 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 191 
 
 " I have not yet told you the worst," she replied. 
 " Though steadfast in reading the Bible, it seemed to me 
 like a sealed book, all except the passage I have mentioned. 
 Though constantly attempting to pray, I was not able. My 
 distress became greater and greater. Often have I thrown 
 myself upon my bed, in an agony of mind which words 
 cannot describe. To sleep was out of the question ; night 
 after night passed away, and I never closed my eyes till 
 the morning. My health was now injured, but it was not 
 regarded for a moment amidst the mental torments which 
 I experienced incessantly. That it was necessary I should 
 pass through all this, I have never doubted, but I have often 
 thought, that if the votaries of what are called innocent 
 pleasures and amusements, must needs know the bitter 
 and protracted distress of mind that I did, what must be 
 the tremendous horrors experienced by those, whose con 
 sciences are made to feel the guilt of a life blackened by 
 crimes that debase our nature and dishonor our Creator !" 
 
 " I have thought much myself, upon this subject," said 
 Charles. "It is the alienation of the heart from the Su 
 preme and only Good, that induces a lesser or greater de 
 gree of misery. She that liveth in pleasure, says the 
 apostle, * is dead while she liveth. The language is very 
 strong. The pursuit of pleasure, then, may induce, in the 
 female mind, as great an alienation from God, as the 
 extremes of sensuality may induce in men. She is dead 
 while she liveth. To give life from this terrific state, is 
 indeed a work which none but Omnipotence can effect, and 
 to begin, and carry it on to its stupendous and glorious re 
 sults, consideration must be produced and continued, until 
 
192 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 the sou], feeling its depravity and guilt, and its wretched, 
 lost state, seeks at last, help and reconciliation through the 
 Redeemer of the world." 
 
 " So I found it to be," she replied. " But what a strug 
 gle ! It was while I was in this deep distress, that I wrote 
 to you, addressed to Charleston ; where, I saw from the 
 public papers, you were stationed. Perhaps I ought not to 
 have done this, after all that had passed between us : but 
 indeed, I thought of nothing at the time, but how I might 
 obtain some advice in my miserable state. As I never re 
 ceived an answer, I then believed you considered that I 
 had departed from the decorum of my sex." 
 
 " Dearest and best," said Charles, interrupting her, " how 
 could you think so hardly of me, for a moment ? I never 
 received your letter ; it was not even put into the post- 
 office." He then related what Mr. Saunders had told him 
 in New Orleans ; and told her also, how this information, 
 and the impressions respecting her so strangely made upon 
 him, had brought him to her. " See then, beloved," he 
 continued, " see the hand, and adore the goodness which, at 
 the best time, can accomplish its purposes. The circum 
 stances have all been too strongly marked, not to compel 
 our belief in an overruling and gracious Providence that 
 has appointed them. This manifestation of the goodness 
 of God, it was our privilege to expect, as His children. 
 He has granted it to us as our Father." 
 
 " I see it, and feel it to be so," she replied. " This, then, 
 is Christianity ! And oh ! how glorious ! how perfect in 
 its work upon the soul ! how watchful in its providence 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 193 
 
 over its followers ! How is it, Charles, that the whole 
 world does not love it as we do ?" 
 
 " Ah ! dearest," said he, " the world is at enmity with 
 our Lord, because its deeds are evil. I thought, when I 
 first received the knowledge of Christ, by the witness of 
 the Spirit, that I had nothing to do but to declare what I 
 had experienced, and all would believe. A little while, 
 however, was sufficient to convince me of my error. One 
 would laugh, another scoff, and almost all paid no attention 
 to what I said. But proceed." 
 
 " This was my state," Clara continued, " when I wrote 
 to you. I continued my search without intermission, but 
 was attended with the most horrible temptations. At one 
 time it was suggested to me, to cease praying ; at another 
 self-destruction ; but still I resisted, and still sought the Sa 
 viour. At length, as I sat one morning in my room, alone, 
 reading a religious book, and never more wretched at any 
 moment of my existence, the witness that God was recon 
 ciled through Jesus Christ, was given to me. I passed in a 
 moment from the depth of wretchedness to a height of joy 
 that none can possibly conceive of that have never known 
 it. The evidence of our Lord s presence was as plain to 
 me as any object in nature to my senses. Tears of joy 
 poured from my eyes, while my tongue gave instant and 
 rapturous expressions of gratitude and praise. The first 
 words I uttered were, * truth truth. Charles ! Charles ! 
 even now, as I am telling you, I feel a measure of that 
 glorious manifestation that I then first knew." 
 
 She lifted her sweet face to Heaven, in adoration, cov- 
 
 9 
 
194 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 ered with tears. Charles, not less affected, drew her ten 
 derly towards him. Neither could speak for some time. 
 
 " Clara," said Charles, at length, " to hear all this from 
 your own lips, is happiness indeed. In our union for life, 
 we both have now * an anchor sure and steadfast, by 
 which we may be well able to outride all the storms that 
 can assail us." 
 
 * What storms, Charles," she asked, " can now assail me ? 
 I know not." 
 
 " That they may be few, dearest," he replied, " is what 1 
 pray for. But the warfare is not over, for our enemies are 
 not destroyed. * Watch and pray, that ye enter not into 
 temptation, is the command of our Lord. In our hour of 
 need, we now know to whom we can go, in full confidence 
 of deliverance, for we have not an High Priest w 7 ho can 
 not be touched with a feeling of our infirmities, but who 
 was, in all points, tempted like as we are, yet without sin. 
 He knoweth how to deliver. The God of our nature must 
 be the God of our salvation. If we abide in him, we need 
 fear nothing. He is as willing as able to deliver ; He has 
 died to redeem us ; He has told us, He has loved us so 
 well, that He will not dwell in the mountain of Sion alone. 
 He has declared to us, that * we shall be like Him, for we 
 shall see Him as He is. With this hope, and with the 
 * earnest we have of our bright inheritance, we will travel 
 our road together. Fear nothing, dearest ; infinite power, 
 wisdom, and love, are all united to bear us safely along." 
 
 He raised her from her seat as he was speaking, and 
 drawing her arm within his, they returned to the house, 
 interchanging still the sentiments which the strong bond 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 195 
 
 of union that unites all believers in Christ, had now made 
 more endearing and engrossing. Death may, indeed, de 
 stroy the ties of earth, so wisely intended for the happiness 
 of life, but over that which connects the followers of our 
 Lord, it can have no power. In this world, it is the ear 
 nest of our glorious inheritance to come, and we carry it 
 into that blissful state to which the Christian is rapidly has 
 tening, while eternity itself will only serve to increase it. 
 
 It was some months since, that business carried me to 
 Che residence of my old friends. I had long been on the 
 most intimate terms of friendship with Leslie, which had 
 been increased by many scenes we had passed through to 
 gether, during the eventful period of the last war with 
 Great Britain. Separated a long distance at the time peace 
 was proclaimed, and that separation continued afterwards 
 by my visits to many parts of Europe, we had not met for 
 years. My wish to see my old friend once more to talk 
 over old times, became intense. As I approached his resi 
 dence, I ordered my servant to turn in at the gate, from 
 which his house was about a mile distant. Leslie recog 
 nized me as soon as I alighted, and running out to me, gave 
 me one of those cordial receptions which old and tried 
 friends are wont to give. Upon entering the dining-room, 
 I found Mrs. Leslie seated in her arm-chair, but little the 
 worse in her appearance, notwithstanding that nearly thirty 
 years had passed over in her married state. On her lap 
 was a beautiful little girl of three or four years of age. 
 
196 SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 
 
 " Sam, this is my second son, George," said Leslie, in his 
 old familiar way, introducing me to an elegant young man 
 of twenty-one or two years of age. " Our eldest, Frederic 
 Sydenham, resides in Baltimore. The little girl that you 
 see on Mrs. Leslie s lap, is his daughter. You will per 
 ceive, then, that I am spreading into two bands, like old 
 Jacob ; and shall finally be entitled to take the place of 
 honor of you, notwithstanding your right of entree to the 
 Senate by resolution of that honorable body. I could rate 
 you soundly, even now, for your bachelor propensities, 
 and your indifference to Lucy Fairfax, some thirty years 
 since." 
 
 " Pray Charles, stop," I interrupted him. " If I am not 
 spreading out myself into two bands as you are, I am pretty 
 well represented by six nephews, and ten grand nephews 
 and nieces ; and this counts very well, I think." 
 
 " No, no," he rejoined, " your plea is not a good one. 
 What do you say to it, Clara ?" 
 
 " I cannot allow it," said Mrs. Leslie ; " and indeed, I well 
 remember the report that our friend was in the good graces 
 of Miss Fairfax." 
 
 " You see, Sam," said Leslie, " you are cast, but" 
 
 " No more of that, Hal, an thoulov st me," I replied, in 
 terrupting him ; then turning the conversation into another 
 channel, we held on a long time, and much to the purpose, 
 as became our years and gravity. In this agreeable manner, 
 a whole week passed away, during which, notwithstand 
 ing rny bachelor state, I was much edified by the confi 
 dence and affection of which I saw constant proofs, and the 
 full testimony, in the lives of my old friends, of the happi- 
 
SCENES AT WASHINGTON. 197 
 
 ness, which, founded upon Christianity, could not fail to 
 perpetuate and increase. It was during this time also, that 
 I got possession of the facts contained in this narrative ; and 
 I assure my readers, that little of the embellishments of 
 fiction are added to the story which I have thus ventured 
 to lay before them. 
 
 THE END. 
 
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