blustering. Snow still lingered on the tops of the mountains, and whitened the sunless ravines. The spring freshets had swollen the rivers. The Indians were friendly, hospitable, and willing to act as guides. Frontiersmen, a rough and fearless set of men, were scattered about among the openings in the wilder

ness.

Through these solitudes the heroic boy was to thread his way, now following the trail of the Indian, now floating in the birch canoe upon the silent rivers, and now climbing mountains or struggling through morasses which the foot of the white man. had perhaps never yet pressed. Often the cabin of the settler afforded him shelter for a night. Frequently he slept in the open air, with his feet to the fire. Again the wigwam of the Indian was hospitably open to receive him. It must have been a strange experience to this quiet, thoughtful, adventurous boy, to find himself at midnight, in the forest, hundreds of miles from the haunts of civilization. The cry of the night-bird, the howl of the wolf, or perhaps the wailings of the storm, fell mournfully upon his ear. He gazed upon the brands flickering at his feet, on the ground-floor of the hut. The Indian warrior, his squaw, and the dusky pappooses, shared with him the fragrant hemlock couch. We have some extracts from the journal which he kept, which give us a vivid idea of the life he then led. Under date of March 15, 1748, he writes,—

"Worked hard till night, and then returned. After supper, we were lighted into a room; and I, not being so good a woodman as the rest, stripped myself very orderly, and went into the bed, as they call it, when, to my surprise, I found it to be nothing but a little straw matted together, without sheet or any thing else, but only one threadbare blanket, with double its weight of vermin. I was glad to get up and put on my clothes, and lie as my companions did. Had we not been very tired, I am sure we should not have slept much that night. I made a promise to sleep so no more in a bed, choosing rather to sleep in the open air before a fire."

On the 2d of April he writes, "A blowing, rainy night. Our straw, upon which we were lying, took fire; but I was luckily preserved by one of our men awaking when it was in a flame. We have run off four lots this day."

The following extract from one of his letters, written at this time, develops his serious, thoughtful, noble character, and also the adventurous life into which he had plunged:

"The receipt of your kind letter of the 2d instant afforded me unspeakable pleasure, as it convinces me that I am still in the memory of so worthy a friend, - a friendship I shall ever be proud of increasing. Yours gave me more pleasure, as I received it among barbarians and an uncouth set of people. Since you received my letter of October last, I have not slept above three or four nights in a bed; but, after walking a good deal all the day, I have lain down before the fire on a little hay, straw, fodder, or bear-skin, whichever was to be had, with man, wife, and children, like dogs and cats; and happy is he who gets the berth nearest the fire. I have never had my clothes off, but have lain and slept on them, except the few nights I have been in Fredericksburg."

Such experiences rapidly develop and create character. George returned from this tramp with all his manly energies consolidated by toil, peril, and hardship. Though but seventeen years of age,

he was a responsible, self-reliant man. The State of Virginia now employed him as public surveyor. For three years he was engaged in these laborious duties, which introduced him to scenes of romance and adventure, in which his calm, strong, well-regu lated spirit found a singular joy. We can hardly conceive of any thing more attractive than such a life must have been to a young man of poetic imagination. The Indian paddled him, in his fairy-like canoe, along the river or over the lake. Now he stood, in the bright morning sunlight, upon the brow of the mountain, gazing over an interminable expanse of majestic forests, where lakes slept, and streams glided, and valleys opened in Edenlike beauty. Though he often, during these three years, visited the home of his mother, his headquarters, if we may so speak, were with his brother at Mount Vernon, as this was much more accessible from his field of labor. Lord Fairfax, who, it is said, was the victim of a love disappointment, had built him a substantial stone mansion in the valley beyond the Blue Ridge, where he was living in a sort of baronial splendor, and where George Washington was an ever-welcome guest.

At the age of nineteen, George Washington was one of the prominent men of the State of Virginia. The Indians were now beginning to manifest a hostile spirit. There is between savage and civilized life an "irrepressible conflict." Where wild beasts range freely, offering food for the hunter, there cannot be highly cultivated fields. Where the hum of human industry is heard, with villages, churches, schools, and manufactories, there can be no forest left for buffaloes, bears, and deer. Civilization was rapidly supplanting barbarism, and the savages were alarmed. They kindled their council-fires; pondered the question of the encroachments of industry, education, and wealth; and resolved, Sataninspired, to sweep every vestige of civilization from the land, that this continent might remain a howling wilderness.

The war-whoop echoed through the forest, and the Indians lighted their torches and sharpened their scalping-knives and tomahawks in preparation for the great battle. Billows of flame and woe desolated the land. Yelling savages rushed at midnight upon the cabin of the remote settler. Husband, wife, children, were all speedily massacred, and their bodies were consumed in the fire which destroyed their dwellings. No tongue can tell the woes which ensued. The whole military force of Virginia was

called into action to meet this terrible foe, emerging at will from the forest, striking its terrific blows, and then retiring to those depths of the wilderness where pursuit was unavailing. The State was divided into districts, over each of which a military commander was appointed with the title of major. The respon sibilities of these majors were very great; for, in the fearful emergency, they were necessarily intrusted with almost dictatorial powers.

George Washington, who, be it remembered, was but nineteen years of age, was one of these majors. With characteristic sagacity and energy, he applied himself to the study of the military art, familiarizing himself with strategy and tactics, making himself a proficient in the manual exercise, and acquiring the accomplishments of a good swordsman. Ingredients of bitterness are mingled in every cup of life. Storm after storm sweeps the ocean. Lawrence Washington was attacked with a painful and fatal disease. With fraternal love, George accompanied him to the West Indies, hoping that tender nursing and a change of climate might save him. "May you die at home!" is one of the Oriental benedictions. The invalid continued to fail during the tour, and only reached home in time to die. Virtues, like vices, love company, and live in groups. The Washingtons were a noble race. Lawrence was the worthy brother of George, endeared to his friends by every attraction which can make home happy. He died at the age of thirty-four, leaving an infant child and a broken-hearted widow.

The grief of George was very bitter. The loss of such a brother, so noble, so loving, was irreparable. Lawrence had been to George as both father and brother. He left a large property. Mount Vernon was bequeathed to his infant daughter; and, should she die without heirs, it was to pass to George, who was the executor of the estate.

Virginia, on the west, is bounded for a distance of several hundred miles by the waters of the Ohio; la belle rivière, as the French appropriately named it. England had seized the coast of the North-American continent; had peopled it with colonies, whose enterprising, migratory population were rapidly crowding back into the vast and unexplored interior. France, with much sagacity, had seized the two most magnificent rivers of our land, the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi. Each of these European kingdoms,

then equally powerful, was jealous of the other. While England was pushing her possessions rapidly towards the centre of the continent, France, equally eager to seize the boundless treasure, was rushing up the St. Lawrence and the Mississippi, establishing military posts and trading depots, forming treaties with the Indian tribes, and claiming, by right of these explorations, all that vast valley of millions of square miles drained by the Mississippi and its tributaries, and by the St. Lawrence and its chain of lakes.

Instead of settling the question by some amicable compromise, both parties determined to fight. Probably both were equally arrogant and unrelenting in their demands. John Bull has never been famed for the spirit of conciliation, and France has never been wanting in ambition. While the wordy warfare was raging between the two powerful contestants, the Indians shrewdly sent a deputation to the Governor of Virginia, inquiring what portion of the country belonged to them, since England, as they expressed it, demanded all the land on one side of the river, and France all upon the other.

arena.

And now the dogs of war were let loose. France and England met, straining every nerve, upon the bloody Both parties dragged the Indian tribes into the conflict. Woes ensued which can never be revealed until the judgment of the great day. Conflagration, massacre, outrage, filled all homes with consternation, and deluged the land in misery. The solitude of the wilderness was broken as savage bands burst from the forest, with the hideous war-whoop, upon tl e cabin of the lonely settler. The shrieks of the father, the mother, and the maiden, as they suffered all which savage brutality could devise, swept like the moaning wind through the wilderness, and no one was left to tell the

tale.

Just before hostilities commenced, the Governor of Virginia sent George Washington as a commissioner to remonstrate with the French against establishing their military posts upon the waters of the Ohio. To carry this remonstrance to the garrisons. to which it was sent, it was necessary that he should traverse a wilderness for a distance of five hundred and sixty miles, where path but the trail of the Indian, and no abode but.

there was no

the wigwam of the savage. In this undertaking, there were two objects in view. The ostensible one was to present the remon