ed that the citizens of these states have neglected an important duty by not resisting, in their individual capacities, the atrocious crime of duelling; and without an anxious desire to see the remedy proposed by Mr. Beecher put under a course of fair experiment. Should it ultimately succeed, as there is reason to hope it will, the blessing of the present and of future generations will rest on the head and the memory of a man, who, by first pointing out and urging an effectual expedient for effacing one of the foulest blots on our national character, will have preeminently deserved well of his country."

The Life of George Washington, with curious anecdotes, equally honorable to himself, and exemplary to his young countrymen; 8th edit. greatly improved, embellished with 7 engravings; By M. L. Weems, formerly rector of Mount Vernon parish, 12mo. Philadelphia, 1809.

THIS little volume is designed for introduction into schools, and as it contains many interesting anecdotes of Washington, and is written in a style very fascinating to the young, it will have an extensive circulation. It has indeed already, in less than two years, passed through eight editions. This is an honorable proof, that the public curiosity is yet awake, in respect to the life and character of the beloved hero of the revolution.

complaint, that in the lives of Washington, which have appeared, there has been so little of biography and so much of histo ry; that we behold him only upon the stage of public action, and are not permitted to see him in the private walks of life. Mr. Weems comes forward to supply this deficiency. He has collected a number of facts particularly relating to the childhood and youth of the American sage, and has presented them to the public in such an interesting, and frequently comic dress, that it will require the most immoveable gravity of disposition to preserve a composure of muscles in read. ing this book. With his inimitable talent for humor, it is a happy circumstance, that the author has a higher object than to excite a laugh. He perceives the value of religion, and he wishes to recommend it by the example of Washington.

In the first chapter, Mr. Weems makes known his precise object, to exhibit the private life of the father of his country.

In most of the elegant orations, pronounced to his praise,' says he, 'you see nothing of Washington below the clouds-nothing of Washington the dutiful son--the affectionate brother---the cheerful neat draftsman--the laborious farmer-.. school boy--the diligent surveyor----the the widow's husband---the orphan's father--and poor man's friend. No! this is not the Washington you see; 'tis only Washington the HERO, and the demi god. Washington, the sun beam in council, or the storm in war.

"See!

ington; drawings masterly no doubt, and perhaps justly descriptive of him in some scenes of his life; but scenes they were, which I am sure his soul abhorred, and

in which at any rate you see nothing of his private virtues. These old fashioned commodities are generally thrown into the back ground of the picture, and treated, as the grandees at the London and Paris routs treat their good old aunts and grandmothers, huddling them together into the back rooms, there to wheeze and eough by themselves, and not depress the fine laudanum-raised spirits of the young sparklers. And yet it was to those old fashioned virtues, that our hero owed every thing. For they in fact were the food of the great actions of him, whom men call Washington. It was they, that enabled him,first to triumph over himself, then over the British, and uniformly to set such bright examples of human perfectibility and true greatness, that compared therewith the history of capturing Cornwallis and Tarleton, with their buccaneering legions, sounds almost as small, as the story of old general Putnam's catching his wolf and her lamb-killing whelps. Since then it is the private virtues, that lay the foundation of all human excellence-since it was these that exalted Washington to be "Columbia's first and greatest son," be it our care to present these, in all their lustre, before the admiring eyes of our children."--"In these every youth is interested, because in these every youth may become a Washington-a Washing. ton in piety and patriotism-in industry and honor-and consequently a Washington, in what alone deserves the name, SELF ESTEEM and UNIVERSAL RESPECT."

General Washington, it seems, was the son of Mr. Augustine Washington by a second marriage. He was born at Pope's creek, near the margin of the Patowmac, Westmoreland coun. ty, Virginia, Feb. 22, 1732. His grandfather, John, was an Englishman, who came to this country in 1657. In his fifth year his father removed to a plantation, which he had in Stafford, opposite to Fredericksburg, on the waters of the Rappahan. nock.

In his education it was one great object of his father to eradicate the spirit of selfishness,

which is natural to the human heart. For this purpose, the son was desired to give to his playmates a liberal portion of the presents, he received, such as fruits, cake, &c. As a motive to this generosity he was reminded of the love, which he would thus gain, of the presents, which would be made him in return, and especially of the rewards, which the great and good God would certainly give him. The following anecdote relating to this part of his education, was obtained from a distant relative. "On a fine morning in the fall of 1737 Mr. W. having little George by the hand, came to the door and asked my cousin W. and myself to walk with him to the orchard, promising he would show us a fine sight. On arriv. ing at the orchard, we were presented with a fine sight indeed. The whole earth, as far as we could see, was strewed with fruit: and yet the trees were bending under the weight of apples, which hung in clusters like grapes, and vainly strove to hide their blush. ing cheeks behind the green leaves. Now, George, said his father, look here my son! don't you remember when this good cousin of yours brought you that fine large apple last spring, how hard. ly I could prevail on you to divide with your brothers and sisters; though I promised you if you would but do it God Al. mighty would give you plenty of apples this fall. Poor George could not say a word, but hanging down his head, looked quite confused, while with his little naked toes he scratched in the soft ground. Now, look up, my son, continued his father, look up George! and see there

how richly the blessed God has made good my promise to you. Wherever you turn your eyes, you see the trees loaded with fine fruit; many of them indeed breaking down, while the ground is covered with mellow apples more than you could ever eat, my son, in all your life time." George looked in silence on the wide wilderness of fruit; he marked the busy humming bees, and heard the gay notes of birds, then lifting his eyes, filled with shining moisture, to his father, he softly said, "well, Pa, only forgive me this time; see if I ever be so stingy any more."

Another object of his father was to inspire him with the love of truth. After receiving a lesson on the excellence of this virtue, the little lad inquires, "Pa, do I ever tell lies?"-No, George, I thank God, you do not, my son; and I rejoice in the hope you never will, at least you shall never, from me, have cause to be guilty of so shameful a thing. Many parents indeed even compel their children to this vile practice, by barbarously beating them for every little fault; hence, on the next offence, the little terrified creature slips out a lie! just to escape the rod. But as to yourself, George, you know I have always told you, and now tell you again, that whenever by accident you do any thing wrong which must often be the case, as you are but a poor little boy yet,

without experience or knowledge, never tell a false. hood to conceal it, but come bravely up, my son, like a little man, and tell me of it; and instead of beating you, George, will but the more honor and love you for it, my dear." The fol

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lowing anecdote shows, that these lessons were not in vain. When George was six years old he became the wealthy master of a hatchet! the edge of which he one day tried on the body of a fine young English cherry tree. The next day the old gentleman discovered the mischief, and came into the house, inquiring with much warmth for the au. thor of it. "Nobody could tell him any thing about it. Presently George and his hatchet made their appearance. George, said his father, do you know who killed that beautiful little cherry tree, yonder in the garden? This was a tough question, and George staggered under it for a moment; but quickly recovered himself, and looking at his father with the sweet face of youth, brightened with the inexpressible charm of all conquering truth, he bravely cried out, "I can't tell a lie, Pa, you know I can't tell a lie, I did cut it with my hatchet." "Run to my arms, you dearest boy, cried his father in transports, run to my arms; glad am 1, George, that you killed my tree, for you have paid me for it a thousand fold. Such an act of heroism in my son is more worth than a thousand trees, though blossomed with silver, and their fruits of purest gold."

The following expedient was adopted to impress the boy with a lively sense of his Maker.

"Mr. W. prepared a little bed in the garden, and having marked upon it George's name in large letters, he sowed plenty of cabbage seed in the traces of the letters,and smoothed all over with the roller As George was a few days after paying a visit to a neighboring goosberry walk, hung with ripe fruit, he beheld the wonder, and running into the house in astonishment cried out, "O Pa! come here! come here!" "What's the matter,

my son, what's the matter?" "O come here, I tell you, Pa, come here! and I'll show you such a sight as you never saw in all your life time." The old gentleman gave his hand to the lad, who conducted him directly to the bed, where the fresh plants exhibited the full name of GEORGE WASHINGTON. "There, Pa, did you ever see such a sight in all your life time?" "Why, it seems like a curious affair, sure enough, George!" "But, Pa, who did make it there, who did make it there?" "It grew there by chance, I suppose, my son. "By chance, Pa! O no! no! it never did grow there by chance Pa; indeed that it never did!" "High! why not, my son?" "Why, Pa, did you ever see any body's name in a plant bed before?" "Well, but George, such a thing might happen, though you never saw it before?" "Yes, Pa, but I did never see the little plants grow up so as to make one single letter of my name before. Now how could they grow up, so as to make all the letters of my name! and then standing one after another, to spell my name so exactly! and all so neat and even too at top and bottom!! O, Pa, you must not say chance did all this. Indeed somebody did it; and I dare say now, Pa, you did do it, just to scare me, because I am your little boy." After a further continuance of the dialogue, the father says to George, "as my son could not believe, that chance had made and put together so exactly the letters of his name (though only sixteen) then how can he believe that chance could have made and put together all those millions and millions of things, that are now so exactly fitted to his good? That my son may look at every thing around, see! what fine eyes he has got! and a little pug nose to smell the sweet flowers! and pretty ears to hear sweet sounds! and a lovely mouth for his bread and butter! and O, the little ivory teeth to cut it for him! and the dear little tongue to prattle with his father! and precious little hands and fingers to hold his play things! and beautiful little feet for him to run about upon! and when my little rogue of a son is tired with running about, then the still night comes for him to lie down, and his mother sings, and the little crick. ets chirp him to sleep! and as soon as he has slept enough, and jumps up fresh and strong as a little buck, there the sweet golden light is ready for him! When he looks down into the water,

there he sees the beautiful silver fishes for him! and up in the trees there are

the apples and peaches and thousands of sweet fruits for him! and all, all around him, wherever my dear hoy looks, he sees every thing just to his wants and wishes; the bubbling springs with cool,

sweet water for him to drink! and the wood to make him sparkling fires, when he is cold! and beautiful horses for him to ride! and strong oxen to work for him! and the good cows to give him milk! and bees to make him sweet honey for his sweeter mouth! and the little lambs, with snowy wool, for beautiful clothes for him! Now these and all the ten thousand thousand other good things more than my son can everthink of,and all so exactly fitted to his use and delight. Now how could chance ever have done all this for my little son? Oh George!" Here the little lad exclaimed, "Oh, Pa, that's enough, that's enough! It can't be chance, indeed, it can't be chance, that made and gave me all these things." "What was it then, do you think, my son?" "Indeed, Pa, Í don't know, unless it was God Almigh ty!" "Yes, George, he it was, my son, and nobody else." "Well but Pa, continued George, does God Almighty give me every thing? Don't you give me some things, Pa?" "I give you something, indeed! Oh, how can I give you any thing George! I, who have nothing on earth, that I can call my own, no, not even the breath I draw!" "High, Pa! is'nt that great big house your house, and this garden, and the horses yonder, and oxen, and sheep, and trees, and every thing, is'nt all yours, Pa?" "Oh no! my son, no! Why you make me shrink into nothing, George, when you talk of all these belonging to me, who can't even make a grain of sand! Oh, how could I, my son, have given life to those great oxen and horses, when I can't give life even to a fly? No! for if the poorest fly were killed, it is not your father, George, nor all the men in the world, that could ever make him alive again!" At this George fell into a profound silence, while his pensive looks showed that his youthful soul was laboring with some idea never felt before. Perhaps it was at that moment, that the good Spirit of God ingrafted on his heart that germ of piety; which filled his after life with so many of the precious fruits of morality.”

Such was the short demonstra. tion of the existence and provi dence of God to the juvenile Washington, and though it is presented in language adapted to children, yet we doubt whether even the labored proof of Paley in Natural Theology is more convincing, and we are sure it does not make such an impression on the mind.

After the death of his father, when George was about ten years of age, his mother sent him to a school at Westmoreland. Here his character for truth was such, that, when the boys were in violent dispute respecting a question of fact, nothing was more common than for some little shaver to call out, "Well boys! George Washington was there; George Washington was there; he knows all about it; and if he dont say it was so,then we will give it up," "done," said the adverse party. He would never allow his playmates to fight with one another, if he could prevent it; and if his personal exertions were unsuccessful he would go to the master and inform him of their barbar. ous intentions. The boys were frequently angry with him for this, but he used to say, "angry or not angry, you shall never have my consent to a practice so shocking! shocking even in slaves and dogs!"

Washington early evinced a propensity to the manoeuvres of war. At school he divided his play mates into two armies, called the French and the Amer. ican, of which he commanded the latter. With corn stalks for muskets, and calabashes for drums, the two armies would every day fight their battles with great fury. The exercise, in which he delighted, was of the athletic kind. He had hardly an equal in throwing heavy weights or jumping with a long pole; and as to running there was nobody, that could come near him. He was often seen to throw a stone across the Rappa hannock at the lower ferry of Fredericsburg, a feat, which VOL. II. New Series.

few at the present day can perform. In his fifteenth year he determined to enter as a midshipman in the British navy, and his trunk was actually sent on board. When he came to take leave of his mother she wept bitterly, and told him, that her heart would break, if he left her. With all the fire of youth burning within him, he yet was so supremely governed by a sense of duty, that he resigned his proud hopes of distinction, and immediately got his trunk ashore! This was an almost unparalleled instance of filial piety. Soon after this period he was employed by lord Fairfax as a surveyor in the back woods of Virginia, in which service he continued till his twentieth year. While in Frederic county, he boarded at the house of a widow Stevenson, generally pronounced Stinson. She had seven sons, with whom every evening, after the toils of surveying, he used to run, jump, and wrestle on a fine green before the house. These young men were heavier than George, so that at wrestling, and particularly at the Indian hug, he seldom had cause for triumph. Hugh Stinson used to tell his friends, that," he and his brother John had often laid the conqueror of England on his back;" but at the same time would agree, that "in running and jumping they were no match for him." For several years afterwards he was engaged in the Indian war, and at the defeat of Braddock in 1755 was wonder. fully preserved by divine providence. A famous Indian warrior, who was in that battle, was often heard to swear, that Washing ton was not born to be killed by a bullet! for," continued he, “I had

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