Washington appeared to revel in the luxury of quiet. He was never idle, never indifferent to the progress of current events, but he loved the peacefulness of nature away from the haunts

CRAYON profile OF MRS. WASHINGTON.

of men, and was delighted when working like the bee among the fruits and flowers. He was not unsocial, and yet he loved to be away from the great gathering-places of men and the tumults of public life. He was not unambitious, but he was not only indifferent but averse to the plaudits of the multitude when given in the accents of flattery. He wished to be loved as a righteous man, and he relied upon his conscience more than upon the voices of men for a knowledge of the acceptableness of his endeavors. It was his guide in all things, for he regarded it in one sense as Emanuel-God with us-the righteous judge of the thoughts and actions of men.

Washington now felt that his country had received all that

could reasonably be asked of him as a public servant, and he returned to his old pursuits with a sincere desire to mingle no more in the stirring arena of busy life. "To make and sell a little flour annually," he wrote to Oliver Wolcott, "to repair houses (going fast to ruin), to build one for the security of my papers of a public nature, and to amuse myself in agricultural and rural pursuits, will constitute employment for the few years I have to remain on this terrestrial globe. If, also, I could now and then meet the friends I esteem, it would fill the measure and add zest to my enjoyments; but, if ever this happens, it must be under my own vine and fig-tree, as I do not think it probable that I shall go twenty miles from them."

Washington enjoyed the visits of friends, but those of mere ceremony he disliked, and was sometimes annoyed by those prompted by idle curiosity.

"I might tell my friend," he said, in a letter at the close of May to Mr. McHenry, the secretary of war, "that I begin my diurnal course with the sun; that if my hirelings are not in their places at that time, I send them messages of sorrow for their indisposition; that, having put these wheels in motion, I examine the state of things further; that the more they are probed, the deeper I find the wounds which my buildings have sustained by an absence and neglect of eight years; that by the time I have accomplished these matters, breakfast (a little after seven o'clock, about the time I presume you are taking leave of Mrs. McHenry) is ready; that this being over, I mount my horse and ride round my farms, which employs me until it is time to dress for dinner, at which I rarely miss seeing strange faces, come, as they say, out of respect for me. Pray, would not the word curiosity answer as well? And how dif

ferent this from having a few social friends at a cheerful board! The usual time of sitting at table, a walk, and tea, bring me within the dawn of candlelight; previous to which, if not prevented by company, I resolve that, as soon as the glimmering taper supplies the place of the great luminary, I will retire to my writing-table and acknowledge the letters I have received; but when the lights are brought, I feel tired and disinclined to engage in this work, conceiving that the next night will do as well. The next night comes, and with it the same causes for postponement, and so on.

"This will account for your letter remaining so long unacknowledged; and, having given you the history of a day, it will serve for a year, and I am persuaded you will not require a second edition of it. But it may strike you that, in this detail, no mention is made of any portion of time allotted for reading. The remark would be just, for I have not looked into a book since I came home; nor shall I be able to do it until I have discharged my workmen, probably not before the nights grow longer, when possibly I may be looking in Doomsday Book."

Washington's allusion in the foregoing letter to his writingtable, reminds me of his inkstand, which is preserved at Arlington House. It is composed wholly of silver, except three cutglass bottles, two of them used for ink, and one (in the centre) for sand. The tray is seven and a half inches in length. It was used by Washington during the last two years of his administration, and ever afterward at Mount Vernon.

Washington found his mansion and all of the surrounding buildings much in want of repair when he returned home. "I find myself," he said, "in the situation nearly of a new

WASHINGTON'S INKSTAND.

beginner; for although I have not houses to build (except one, which I must erect for the accommodation and security of my military, civil, and private papers, which are voluminous and may be interesting), yet I have scarcely any thing else about me that does not require considerable repairs. In a word, I am already surrounded by joiners, masons, and painters; and such is my anxiety to get out of their hands, that I have scarcely a room to put a friend into or to sit in myself, without the music of hammers or the odoriferous scent of paint."

The mansion at Mount Vernon was soon thoroughly repaired, and many ornaments and pieces of furniture, not known to it before, were placed in it. Whatever had been used in the presidential mansion at Philadelphia, and could be appropriately transferred to Mount Vernon, were reserved, when Washington broke up his establishment in the federal capital, and disposed of all superfluities.

Among other things brought on from Philadelphia, was a pair of mural candelabra, of elegant form and workmanship.

These were upon the walls of the dining-room at Philadelphia, which was also used for public receptions by the President and his wife. They were now placed in the large drawing

MURAL CANDELABra.

ANCIENT LANTERN.

room at Mount Vernon. They are each constructed of a mirror enclosed in a neat metal frame, resting upon an elaborately wrought bracket, and surmounted by flowers and festoons of leaves, all of the same material, and heavily gilt. In front of the mirror is a crystal candlestick and branches, so placed as to have a brilliant reflection produced.