Who shall tell the sorrow of the bereaved and grief-stricken mother; the passionate lamentation of the young brother who, hand in hand with this one gentle sister, had grown in health and beauty through so many happy years of genial and loving companionship; or the deep sadness of the almost paternal guardian beneath whose fostering care her youthful mind had so pleasingly developed?

The melancholy event that thus, suddenly, robbed Mount Vernon of one of its brightest and most cherished ornaments, occurred in the year

1770.

Subsequent to this sad incident, for several successive years, nothing demanding particular notice arose to vary the usual routine of Mrs. Washington's existence.

The tender sympathy that calms and soothes the wounded heart, beyond all else that earth can give, united with the dictates of religion to soften regrets which they could not remove, and

"Time, that wears out the trace of deepest sorrow,"

witnessed a gradual diminution of the pervading and poignant grief that long shadowed the spirit of this mourning mother.

At length, the distant murmurs of the approaching storm that served to render more dear the sanctity and the delights of home, reached ears all unwilling to receive the dreadful tidings they conveyed. Near, and yet more near, advanced the threatening clouds, till even the most incredulous were compelled to fear its fast-coming fury.

Mrs. Washington was first fully awakened to a foreboding sense of the changes that awaited her, when her husband, obeying the summons of patriotism, hastened to join in the momentous public deliberations, upon the results of which hung consequences of so much present and prospective importance. Then, indeed, she became only too surely convinced that the master-spirit had departed from the home-paradise, within which, for seventeen successive years, there had so seldom entered the sin and suffering that make the alloy of all human happiness!

CHAPTER IV.

Hark! forth from the abyss, a voice proceeds,

A long, low, distant murmur of dread sound,
Such as arises when a Nation bleeds
With some deep and immedicable wound.

Should Heaven, yet unappeased, refuse its aid,
Disperse our hopes, and frustrate our designs,
Yet shall the conscience of the great attempt
Diffuse a brightness on our future days;

Nor will his country's groans reproach Demetrius.

BYRON.

JOHNSON.

WHEN Col. Washington left Mount Vernon to attend the meeting of the first Congress at Philadelphia, Mrs. Washington remained at home, participating, though at a distance, the interest and anxiety with which he discharged the various and peculiarly responsible duties which the SOLDIER OF AMERICA was directly summoned to assume; and watching with engrossing eagerness, for his reports of the highly interesting proceedings and deliberations of the solemn assemblage with which he was associated.

When, after more than nine months of separation and solitude, she was informed of her hus

band's appointment as Commander-in-Chief of the American Army, and that "the war had actually begun" which must summon him to immediate action, the mingled nature of her emotions may be easily conceived.

The first intelligence of this event was communicated to Mrs. Washington in the following Letter, which possesses the more interest as it is the only one of the many addressed to her from the same source, that has descended to us.

*

'Philadelphia, 18 June, 1775.

"I am now set down to write to you on a subject, which fills me with inexpressible concern, and this concern is greatly aggravated and increased, when I reflect upon the uneasiness I know it will give you. It has been determined in Congress, that the whole army raised for the defence of the American cause shall be put under my care, and that it is necessary for me to proceed immediately to Boston to take upon me the command of it.

* It is known that Mrs. Washington, previous to her death, destroyed these precious testimonials of affection and confidence-unwilling, it may be supposed, to allow other eyes than her own to trace the cherished records.

"You may believe me, my dear Patsy, when 1 assure you, in the most solemn manner, that, so far from seeking this appointment, I have used every endeavor in my power to avoid it, not only from my unwillingness to part with you and the family, but from a consciousness of its being a trust too great for my capacity, and that I should enjoy more real happiness in one month with you at home, than I have the most distant prospect of finding abroad, if my stay were to be seven times seven years. But as it has been a kind of destiny, that has thrown me upon this service, I shall hope that my undertaking it is designed to answer some good purpose. You might, and I suppose did perceive, from the tenor of my letters, that I was apprehensive I could not avoid this appointment, as I did not pretend to intimate when I should return. That was the case. It was utterly out of my power to refuse this appointment, without exposing my character to such censures, as would have reflected dishonor upon myself, and given pain to my friends. This, I am sure, could not, and ought not to be pleasing to you, and must have lessened me considerably in my own esteem. I shall rely, therefore, confidently on that Providence, which has heretofore