more beloved than the Reverend Lee Massey. He was the companion of Washington from his youth, and at his solicitation, and that of Mason, Fairfax, M'Carty, Chichester, and others of that parish, he was induced to relinquish the profession of the law, study divinity, and become their pastor. His speech becoming impaired by the loss of his front teeth, he left the pulpit, and studied medicine as a means of affording relief to the poor.

Another clergyman, who officiated occasionally at Pohick church, after the regular stated services of the Church of England had ceased there, was the eccentric Mason L. Weems, the earliest biographer of Washington. The style of that biography was so attractive to the uncultivated readers of his day, that it passed through some forty editions, and even now it finds a sale. His character appears to have been a curious compound of seriousness and levity, truthfulness and exaggeration, reverence and profanity. He was an itinerant in every sense of the word. He was a man of considerable attainments as a scholar, physician, and divine; and his benevolence was unbounded. When a boy of fourteen years, he was found at night teaching half-clad, half-fed children, who gathered eagerly around him; and all through life he was ready to share a crust with the unfortunate. He used wit and humor freely on all occasions. "Whether in private or public, in prayers or preaching," says Bishop Meade, "it was impossible that either the young or old, the grave or the gay, could keep their risible faculties from violent agitation." He would pray with the negro servants at night, and fiddle for them by the road-side by day. For many years he was a travelling bookseller, preaching when invited, haranguing the people at

courts, fairs, and other public gatherings, and selling the Bible out of one hand and Paine's Age of Reason out of the other, alleging as an excuse for the latter performance, that he always carried the antidote with the poison. His fund of

anecdote was inexhaustible; and after giving a promiscuous audience the highest entertainment of fun, he found them in good mood to purchase his books. At Mount Vernon he was always a welcome guest, for Washington loved his goodness of heart and overlooked his foibles. Mr. Weems died at Beaufort, South Carolina, in May, 1825, at an advanced age.

After the Revolution, for reasons not clearly seen, Washington attended Christ Church, at Alexandria (of which he was a vestryman), instead of Pohick. Others of the latter parish followed, and after a while regular services ceased in that part of

the country. Washington owned a pew in Christ Church from the establishment of the parish, in 1764, and occupied it constantly after 1783, until his death. Some of his name have held possession of it ever since. Judge Bushrod Washington

succeeded the General in its occupancy, then his nephew, John A. Washington, the father of the late proprietor of Mount Vernon, and lastly, that proprietor himself. Christ Church, at Alexandria, was finished in 1773, and Washington paid the highest price for a pew in it.

I visited Pohick Church a few years ago, and found it falling rapidly into decay. It stands upon an eminence north of Pohick Creek, on the border of a forest that extends almost uninterruptedly to Mount Vernon. Around it are the ancient oaks of the primeval wood, interspersed with chestnuts and pines. It was just at twilight when I reached the old fane, and after making a sketch of it, I passed on to seek lodgings for the

night. The next day was the Sabbath, and being informed that a Methodist meeting was to be held in the church, I repaired thither at the usual hour, and took a seat in Washington's pew, near the pulpit. There I awaited the slow gathering of the little auditory. When all had assembled, men and

women and children, white and black, the whole congregation numbered only twenty-one persons. I could not refrain from drawing a parallel with the scenes of other days under that venerated roof, when some of the noblest of Virginia's aristocracy worshipped there, while clergymen, in surplice and gown, performed the solemn and impressive ritual of the Church of England. Now, a young man, with nothing to distinguish him from other men but a white cravat, stood as

teacher within the old chancel by the side of the ancient communion-table. He talked sweetly of Christian charity:

"Oh, the rarity

Of Christian charity!"

and asked the little company to join with him in singing the hymn

"Come, Holy Spirit! Heavenly Dove!"

When the service was over, I made note, with pen and pencil, of all within. It was a melancholy task, for decay with its busy fingers was at work all around me, making sure prophecies of the speeedy desolation of a building hallowed by associations with the beloved Washington. Upon the wall, back of the chancel, were still inscribed, the Law, the Creed, and the Lord's Prayer, upon which the eyes of Washington and his friends had rested a thousand times. A large proportion of the panes of glass were broken from the windows, admitting freely the wind and the rain, the bats and the birds. The elaborately wrought pulpit, placed by itself on one side of the church, was sadly marred by desecrating hands. Under its sounding-board, a swallow had built her nest; and upon the book ledge the fowls of the air had evidently perched. These things brought to memory the words of the "sweet singer of Israel"— "Yea, the sparrow has found a home, and the swallow a nest for herself, where she may lay her young, even thine altar, O Lord of Hosts!"