By the regulations published, it was settled that all the houses should be built of brick or stone; the walls to be thirty feet high and to be built parallel to the line of the street, but either upon it or withdrawn from it, as suited the taste of the builder. However, numbers of wooden habitations have been built; but the different owners have all been cautioned against considering them as perma nent. They are to be allowed for a certain term only, and then destroyed. Three commissioners, who reside on the spot, are appointed by the president, with a salary, for the purpose of superintending the public and other buildings, and regulating every thing pertaining to the city. The only public buildings carrying on as yet, are the president's house, the capitol, and a large hotel. The president's house, which is nearly completed on the outside, is two stories high, and built of free stone. The principal room in it is of an oval form. This is undoubtedly the handsomest building in the country, and the architecture of it is much extolled by the people, who have never seen any thing superior; but it will not bear a critical examination. Many persons find fault with it, as being too large and too splendid for the residence of any one person in a republican country; and certainly it is a ridiculous habitation for a man who receives a salary that amounts to no more than 5,625 1. sterling per annum, and in a country where the expences of living are far greater than they are even in London. The hotel is a large building of brick, ornamented with stone; it stands between the president's house and the capitol. In the beginning of the year 1796, when I last saw it, it was roofed in, and every exertion making to have it finished with the utmost expedition. It' is any thing but beautiful. The capitol, at the same period, was raised only a very little way above the foundation. The stone, which the president's house is built with, and such as will be used for all the public buildings, is very similar in appearance to that found at Portland in England; but I was informed by one of the sculptors, who had frequently worked the Portland stone in England, that it is of a much superior quality, as it will bear to be cut as fine as marble, and is not liable to be injured by rain or frost. On the banks of the Patowmac they have inexhaustible quarries of this stone; good specimens of common marble have also been found; and there is in various parts of the river abundance of excellent slate, paving stone, and lime-stone. Good coal may also be had. 6 The private houses are all plain buildings; most of them have been built on speculation, and still remain empty. The greatest number, at any one plaee, is at Green Leafs Point, on the main river, just above the entrance of the eastern branch. This spot has been names to different spots, and also to the creeks and rivers. On the original location of the ground now allotted for the seat of the federal city, this creek received the name of Tiber Creek, and the identical spot of ground on which the capitol now stands was called Rome. This anecdote is related by many as a certain prognostic of the future magnificence of this city, which is to be, as it were, a second Rome.' looked looked upon by many as the most convenient one for trade; but others prefer the shore of the eastern branch, on account of the su periority of the harbour, and the great depth of the water near the shore. There are several other favourite situations, the choice of any, one of which is a mere matter of speculation at present. Some build near the capitol, as the most convenient place for the residence of members of congress, some near the president's house; others again. prefer the west end of the city, in the neighbourhood of George Town, thinking that as trade is already established in that place, it must be from thence that it will extend into the city. Were the houses that have been built situated in one place all together, they would make a very respectable appearance, but scattered about as they are, a spectator can scarcely perceive any thing like a town. Excepting the streets and avenues, and a small part of the ground adjoining the public buildings, the whole place is covered with trees. To be under the necessity of going through a deep wood for one or two miles, perhaps, in order to see a next door neighbour, and in the same city, is a curious, and, I believe, a novel circumstance. The number of inhabitants in the city, in the spring of 1796, amounted to about five thousand, including artificers, who formed by far the largest part of that number. Numbers of strangers are continually passing and repassing through a place which affords such an extensive field for speculation.' Mr. Weld was at Philadelphia on the anniversary of the birthday of General Washington; on which occasion, all persons of consequence went to pay their respects to this truly great man. On this day General Washington terminated his sixty-fourth year; but though not an unhealthy man, he seemed considerably older. The innumerable vexations he has met with in his different public capacities have very sensibly impaired the vigour of his consti tution, and given him an aged appearance. There is a very material difference, however, in his looks when seen in private and when he appears in public full drest; in the latter case the hand of art makes up for the ravages of time, and he seems many years younger. Few persons find themselves for the first time in the presence of General Washington, a man so renowned in the present day for his wisdom and moderation, and whose name will be transmitted with such honour to posterity, without being impressed with a certain degree of veneration and awe; nor do these emotions subside on a. closer acquaintance; on the contrary, his person and deportment are. such as rather tend to augment them. There is something very austere in his countenance, and in his manners he is uncommonly reserved. I have heard some officers, that served immediately under his command during the American war, say, that they never saw him smile during all the time that they were with him. No man has ever yet been connected with him by the reciprocal and unconstrained ties of friendship; and but a few can boast even of having been on an easy and familiar footing with him. The height of his person is about five feet cleven; his chest is full; and his limbs, though rather slender, well shaped and muscular, B 4 His His head is small, in which respect he resembles the make of a great number of his countrymen. His eyes are of a light grey colour; and, in proportion to the length of his face, his nose is long. Mr. Stewart, the eminent portrait painter, told me, that there are fea. tures in his face totally different from what he ever observed in that of any other human being; the sockets for the eyes, for instance, are larger than what he ever met with before, and the upper part of the nose broader. All his features, he observed, were indicative of the strongest and most ungovernable passions, and had he been born in the forests, it was his opinion that he would have been the fiercest man amongst the savage tribes. In this Mr. Stewart has given a proof of his great discernment and intimate knowledge of the human countenance; for although General Washington has been extolled for his great moderation and calmness, during the very trying situaations in which he has so often been placed, yet those who have been acquainted with him the longest and most intimately say, that he is by nature a man of a fierce and irritable disposition, but that, like Socrates, his judgment and great self-command have always made him appear a man of a different cast in the eyes of the world. He speaks with great diffidence, and sometimes hesitates for a word; but it is always to find one particularly well adapted to his meaning. His language is manly and expressive. At levce, his discourse with strangers turns principally upon the subject of America; and if they have been through any remarkable places, his conversation is free and particularly interesting, as he is intimately acquainted with every part of the country. He is much more open and free in his behaviour at levee than in private, and in the company of ladies still more so than' when solely with men. General Washington gives no public dinners or other entertainments, except to those who are in diplomatic capacities, and to a few families on terms of intimacy with Mrs. Washington. Strangers, with whom he wishes to have some conversation about agriculture, or any such subject, are sometimes invited to tea. This by many is at, tributed to his saving disposition; but it is more just to ascribe it to his prudence and foresight; for as the salary of the president, as L have before observed, is very small, and totally inadequate by itself to support an expensive style of life, were he to give numerous and splendid entertainments the same might possibly be expected from subsequent presidents, who, if their private fortunes were not consi. derable, would be unable to live in the same style, and might be exposed to many ill-natured observations, from the relinquishment of what the people had been accustomed to; it is most likely also that General Washington has been actuated by these motives, because in his private capacity at Mount Vernon every stranger meets with a hospitable reception from him...~ General Washington's self-moderation is well known to the world already. It is a remarkable circumstance, which redounds to his eternal honour, that while president of the United States he never appointed one of his own relations to any office of trust or emolument, although he has several that are men of abilities, and well qualified to fill the most important stations in the government.' The slaves in Virginia are about double the number of freemen. Instances seldom occur of their being ill treated. They have time allowed them to attend to their own concerns, to cultivate their gardens, and to nourish and feed their poultry. Their huts are comfortably furnished, they are well clothed, dieted and lodged, and are free from all care and anxiety; still, however, let the condition of a slave be made ever so comfortable, as long as he is conscious of being the property of another, as long as he hears those around him talking with rapture of the blessings of liberty, it is not to be supposed that he can feel himself happy. It is immaterial under what form slavery may present itself to our view; there is always ample cause, when it appears, for humanity to weep, and to lament that men and Christians can live so regardless of the feelings of their fellow-. creatures. The changes in the state of the atmosphere, in the middle. and southern states of America, are frequently very great, and sudden. In Pennsylvania, on the 14th of March, the author observed that Fahrenheit's thermometer stood at 65° at noonday, though it had been at 14° but a week before. In the neighbourhood of the south west mountains, on the roth of May, the thermometer was as low as 46°, yet, four days afterward, it stood at 81°. At the commencement of a storm of thunder and lightning, the thermometer stood at 81°: but, twenty-three minutes afterward, it fell to 59°, and rose again in the course of the evening to 65. The range of the mercury in Pennsylvania has been observed to be from 24° below o to 105° above it. A summer seldom passes, in which it doesnot rise to 96o. In the course of the few days (says Mr. W.) that I have spent in Philadelphia during this month, the thermometer has risen repeatedly to 86° and for two or three days it stood at 93°. During these days no one stirred out of doors that was not compelled to do so; those that could make it convenient with their business always walked with umbrellas to shade them from the sun; light white hats were universally` worn, and the young men appeared dressed in cotton or linen jackets and trowsers; every gleam of sunshine seemed to be considered as baneful and destructive; the window shutters of cach house were closed' early in the morning, so as to admit no more light than what was absolutely necessary for domestic business; many of the houses, indeed, were kept so dark, that on going into them from the street, it was impossible at first entrance to perceive who was present. The. best houses in the city are furnished with Venetian blinds, at the outside, to the windows and half doors, which are made to fold together like common window shutters. Where they had these they constantly kept them closed, and the windows and doors were left open behind them to admit air. A very different scene was presented' in the city as soon as the sun was set; every house was then thrown open, open, and the inhabitants all crowded into the streets to take their evening walks, and visit their acquaintance. It appeared every night as if some grand spectacle was to be exhibited, for not a street or alley was there but what was in a state of commotion. This varied scene usually lasted till about ten o'clock; at eleven there is no city in the world, perhaps, so quiet all the year round; at that hour you may walk over half the town without seeing the face of a human' being, except the watchmen. Very heavy dews sometimes fall after these hot days, as soon as the sun is down, and the nights are then found very cold; at other times there are no dews, and the air remains hot all the night through. For days together in Philadelphia, the thermometer has been observed never to be lower than 80° during any part of the twenty-four hours." The following anecdote will serve to shew how much the people in Canada are immersed in ignorance and superstition: On the evening before we reached Quebec, we stopped at the village of St. Augustin Calvaire, and after having strolled about for some time, returned to the farm-house where we had taken up our quarters for the night. The people had cooked some fish, that had been just caught, while we had been walking about, and every thing being ready on our return, we sat down to supper by the light of a lamp, which was suspended from the ceiling. The glimmering light, however, that it afforded, scarcely enabled us to see what was on the table; we complained of it to the man of the house, and the lamp was in consequence trimmed; it was replenished with oil; taken down and set on the table; still the light was very bad. "Sacre Dieu!" exclaimed he, "but you shall not eat your fish in the dark;" so saying, he stepped aside to a small cupboard, took out a candle, and having lighted it, placed it beside us. All was now going on well, when the wife, who had been absent for a few minutes, sud. denly returning, poured forth a volley of the most terrible execrations against her poor husband for having presumed to have acted as he had done. Unable to answer a single word, the fellow stood aghast, ignorant of what he had done to offend her; we were quite at a loss. also to know what could have given rise to such a sudden storm; the wife, however, snatching up the candle, and hastily extinguishing it, addressed us in a plaintive tone of voice, and explained the whole affair. It was the holy candle-" La chandelle benite," which her, giddy husband had set on the table; it had been consecrated at a neighbouring church, and supposing there should be a tempest at any time, with thunder and lightning ever so terrible, yet if the candle were but kept burning while it lasted, the house, the barn, and every thing else belonging to it, were to be secured from all danger. If any of the family happened to be sick, the candle was to be lighted, and they were instantly to recover. It had been given to her that morning by the priest of the village, with an assurance that it possessed the miraculous power of preserving the family from harm, and she was confident that what he told her was true. To have contradicted the poor woman would have been useless; for the sake of our ears, however, we endeavoured to pacify her, and that being 6 accom |