the time, according to the advice of Capt. Cuttle, and draw it now from my book. Thus it runs:

"A relation of mine, Mr. Colquhoun of Suffolk, was engaged to a young lady of the same place. His Father insisted on his going to Edinborough to complete his education. Such was the ardor of his attachment that he felt that he could not survive a separation from his Lady-love unless he parted from her as his wife-this he told his parents. His father consented to the marriage, provided he consented to a separation of three years. He gave the promise, and left his bride: she was his, and he could endure the severance.

Three years rolled away, as they will, whether of joy or sorrow; and he was preparing to return home, when he had a dream that revealed to him the death of his wife. He arrived in Virginia-the dream was a reality. The shock made him a maniac. The madness gradually wore away-melancholy succeeded. He would escape from his home, and spend night after night on her grave, praying to have one-but one look at her. He trusted that the earnestness of his prayer would meet with acceptance.

Mr. Agnew, a Scotch clergyman, was pastor of his church; he asked him if he thought that departed spirits were ever permitted to visit this earth. 'I'll tell you a Ghost Story, and you may judge how near I was in believing that they might that they did. I was invited to preach in Gloster, and was a guest in a large house. There was great simpering among the young members of the family, when they saw me. 'I, a minister!'-my youth made it ludicrous to them even the servants joined. I had experienced something like it before-had disturbed their associations-a young and gay clergyman; I should have been the reverseold and grave.

'I retired. All was comfortable, and I was soon asleep. Towards morning I awoke. The curtains were parted; in the opening I saw a tall figure shrouded in white. I fainted. On recovering, the eyes of the figure seemed to gaze on me. I felt that prayer was my only defence. I struggled to put myself in the attitude of prayer. Never did I supplicate with greater earnestness. Prayer gave me courage. I stretched forth my hand, and touched something— 'twas cold. I recoiled,—again I fainted. How long I remained insensible, I know not. When consciousness returned, reason came with it. I touched the object-spirits are not material, therefore that was no spirit.

The morning had dawned-objects were distinct. I opened my eyes, the curtains were still parted, and there stood--a Barber's block, on which mine host's wig was displayed.

The truth, the whole truth flashed upon me-the children and the servants wanted to play the young Parson a trick. With the wig, the dredging-box, and a morninggown, a Ghost was gotten up. At breakfast I saw the parties in the trick. I kept silence. Their countenances betrayed them.

'So ends my Ghost Story-as veritable a Ghost as can be met with.'"

This was Mr. Agnew's answer to Mr. Colquhoun. I, the narrator of another's recollection, think a little more gravity would have better become the office and the occasion. In provincial times, however, greater license was allowed to parsons than there would be now.

ORIGINAL LETTER:

From General Washington to George Mason, Esq., of Gunston Hall.

[We copy the following Letter from General Washington to George Mason, Esq., of Gunston Hall, from the Whig of January 31st, where it appears as taken from the Alexandria Gazette, and is introduced in these terms: "We have before us," (says the Alexandria Gazette,) "in the well-known, bold, legible, and excellent hand-writing of General Washington, the following letter which a friend from an adjoining county has been kind enough to send us. It is addressed to Col. George Mason, and is very interesting for although begun only in answer to one asking letters of introduction for Col. Mason's eldest son, whose ill health forced him to try the climate of the south of France, yet the occason is seized to exhibit, in a most striking degree, the deep concern that ever filled the mind of the Patriot Chief, for the public welfare. Without farther preface, we append the letter:"]

CAMP AT MIDDLEBROOK, March 27th, 1779.

Dear Sir,-By some interruption of the last week's mail, your favor of the 8th did not reach my hands till last night. Under cover of this, Mr. Mason, (if he should not have sailed,) to whom I heartily wish a perfect restoration of health, will receive two letters: one of them to the Marquis de la Fayette, and the other to Doct. Franklin, in furnishing which I am happy, as I wish for instances in which I can testify the sincerity of my regard for you.

Our Commissary of Prisoners hath been invariably and pointedly instructed to exchange those officers first, who were first captivated, as far as rank will apply, and I have every reason to believe he has obeyed the order, as I have refused a great many applications for irregular exchanges

in consequence, and I did it because I would not depart from my principle, and thereby incur the charge of partiality. It sometimes happens, that officers later in captivity than others, have been exchanged before them, but it is in cases where the ranks of the enemy's officers in our possession do not apply to the latter. There is a prospect now, I think, of a general exchange taking place, which will be very pleasing to the parties and their connexions, and will be a means of relieving much distress to individuals, though it may not, circumstanced as we are at this time, be advantageous to us, considered in a national and political point of view. Partial exchanges have, for some time past, been discontinued by the enemy:

Though it is not in my power to devote much time to private correspondences, owing to the multiplicity of public letters (and other business) I have to read, write and transact, yet I can with great truth assure you, that it would afford me very singular pleasure to be favored, at all times, with your sentiments in a leisure hour, upon public matters of general concernment, as well as those which more immediately respect your own State, (if proper conveyances would render prudent a free communication.) I am particularly desirous of it, at this time, because I view things very differently, I fear, from what people in general do, who seem to think that the contest is at an end, and to make money, and to get places, the only thing now remaining to do. I have seen without dispondency, (even for a moment,) the hours which America has styled her gloomy ones-but I have beheld no day since the commencement of hostilities, that I have thought her liberties in such imminent danger as at the present. Friends and foes seem now to combine to pull down the goodly fabric we have hitherto been raising at the expense of so much time, blood and treasure-and unless the bodies politic

will exert themselves to bring things back to first principles, correct abuses, and punish our internal foes, inevitable ruin must follow. Indeed we seem to be verging so fast to destruction, that I am filled with sensations to which I have been a stranger, till within these three months. Our enemy behold with exulation and joy, how effectually we labor for their benefit, and from being in a state of absolute despair, and on the point of evacuating America, are now on tiptoe. Nothing, therefore, in my judgment, can save us, but a total reformation in our own conduct, or some decisive turn to affairs in Europe. The former, alas! to our shame be it spoken! is less likely to happen than the latter, as it is now consistent with the views of the speculators various tribes of money makers-and stockjobbers of all denominations, to continue the war for their own private emolument, without considering that their avarice and thirst for gain must plunge every thing (including themselves) in one common ruin.

Were I to indulge my present feelings, and give a loose to that freedom of expression which my unreserved friendship for you would prompt me to, I should say a great deal on this subject. But letters are liable to so many accidents, and the sentiments of men in office sought after by the enemy with so much avidity, and besides conveying useful knowledge (if they get into their hands) for the superstructure of their plans are often perverted to the worst of purposes, that I shall be somewhat reserved, notwithstanding this letter goes by a private hand to Mount Vernon, I cannot refrain lamenting, however, in the most poignant terms, the fatal policy too prevalent in most of the States, of employing their ablest men at home in posts of honor or profit, till the great national interests are fixed upon a solid basis. To me it appears no unjust simile to compare the affairs of this great continent, to the mechanism of a clock, each