cannot have been American hurry here; Its builders must have wrought in the spirit of old Cathedral-rearers. As Chaucer says,

There is na workman

That can bothe worken wel and hastilie;

This must be done at leasure parfaitly.

To-day the eagle folds his wings in peace,-from his eyrie he watches his emissaries throughout the world. Down Southward, his likeness is the soldier's star;—he mounts guard over the white tents of Camp Douglas, looking down upon Mormon life. He rules in revenueboats and custom-houses in every sea-port, he emblazons the mariner's flag in the waters of China and far away Japan, and the banner which droops languidly in Naples Bay, bears also his sign. Those who study art in ruined temples at Rome, and those who seek dollars in foggy London, all look for his countenance and favour. They will find it close at hand,—over Consular posts presides the lordly bird, along with the flag of mystic stars and motto of strength, "E pluribus unum." A peaceful bird generally, he shows beak and claw when he is aroused. Once upon a time, aided by his cousins of lilied France, he chased a British Lion right valiantly, and more recently he has driven out single-handed, the legions of the Palmetto flag. The erne or white-headed eagle is the bird which furnishes a symbol for America's flag. Its instincts are cruel, and on this account Franklin regretted that it should have been chosen as the emblem of his country. Now and then it may be seen sailing through the rainbow-sprays of Niagara on its way from northern feeding-grounds.

As the sun rises higher and higher towards his zenith he seems to strike fire against these sparkling walls of marble. The sky overhead is of cerulean blue, so much

flash and gleam dazzles and wearies the eye. I remember a lady saying that her little daughter's eyes were blue from being born at Rome, and living under an Italian sky:—if so, the good folks at Washington should have blue eyes, but we look in vain for this characteristic of Saxon race in America. We have not only Italian skies but also tropical heat, heat so excessive and overpowering, that a son of foggy England is glad to seek refuge under the Capitol dome. Here is a circular picture-gallery. Some of the "dramatis persona" on the walls are countrymen of mine, not seen in moments of victory, but generally in the plight of the "bruised reed." I was quite prepared for this, for more than one American friend had foretold the sight of my own folks on the frescoes;-a goodly show in the eyes of Republicans. Some of them are neutral scenes, as for instance, "The landing of Columbus," "The Pilgrims embarking at Delft-haven," and the "Baptism of Poccahontas." I have previously mentioned the pictures representing the "Surrender of Burgoyne at Saratoga," and the "Declaration of Independence at Philadelphia.” There are two others, both of a military type, “General Washington resigning his commission to Congress," and the "Surrender of Cornwallis at Yorktown."

The finest picture, as a work of art, is one portraying the "Discovery of the Mississippi by De Soto, May 1541." The discoverer himself, clad as a cavalier of olden time, is mounted on a grey horse;-behind him are borne two curious banners of pink, purple and blue. His followers include a motley group of horsemen, Moorish and Portugese; and a small company of infantry who have managed to drag through forest and swamp a single brass cannon. In the back-ground rests an ironbound chest for powder or treasure; perhaps the dis

men

coverers hope to expend the powder, and to fill their camp-chest with treasure from the new-found regions. Soldiers are planting in the ground a rude cross of pine trees, on the top of which is a figure or image of the Virgin; and two monks are busy at work consecrating it, one brother kneeling down and reading from a book, the other swinging near it a censer of incence. In the foreground appears the river, with canoes upon its waters and wigwams fringing its banks. Gazing upon the white stand Indians-chiefs, women, and "medicine men,"-but upon their inscrutable faces you read no sign. Their acts, however, are friendly, for at De Soto's feet lies a peace-offering of the best gifts the red men have,— Indian corn and purple grapes, water-lilies and wild swans, bundles of arrows and a peace-pipe. tableau has been the conception of a splendid genius, and even beyond its grandeur, there lies in it a deep field of suggestion for further thought. Far above, the Rotunda-dome is painted with allegorical figures, and round them runs a ribbon of strength and union, "E pluribus unum,"-" out of many, one."

The

Along corridors, where the foot steps over arabesques in Minton tiles, and diamond shapes in marble, we gain the Supreme Court. Over the chair of the Chief Justice rests a gilt eagle with outspread wings, and fronting him are marble statues of Jay, Ellesworth, Rutledge and Marshall, lights of the legal world who have passed away. They no longer expound the statutes of the realm, but are themselves monuments, statues to that law. The Senate-chamber is a noble room, everything about it massive and richly fashioned. The walls are painted in panels, relieved with buff and gold, and veined sienna marble. Bouquets of flowers and clusters of fruit pictured on an ornamental roof of glass, enrich a scene upon

which the softened light gleams down, not taking its cast from figures of evangelist and angel, but from blendings of fruit and flower. With the prompting of human nature which constrains us to sit for a moment upon a royal throne in England, we snatch, in passing, a similar tribute from the Chair of the Vice-president of the United States. In the House of Representatives, Mr. Speaker's chair is canopied by two Union flags. In both Houses one is surprised to detect a close, sickly smell of tobacco, the rich pile carpets being more or less impregnated with the juice of the favourite weed. An antidote is provided by the public treasury, as I hear a Senator of our party explaining to a lady-friend, that the floor of the House puts on new broadcloth every year.

I was often asked by Americans what I thought of their Parliament Halls at Washington? I thought them to be noble in conception and workmanship; perhaps a connoisseur would say that the roofs are so massive and gorgeous as to dwarf the interior, and produce an effect not intended, of heaviness and gloom. In the Rotunda is placed a full-sized statue, in white marble, of Lincoln, which perpetuates with great truthfulness, the mild yet firm countenance of the murdered President. Turning into the library of Congress, and looking from an open window, I saw as from an elevated balcony, below, like a map unrolled, "the city of magnificent distances." Beyond it, a widening plain, with a gleam of the Potomac, and far away the forest-lands of Maryland and Virginia. As a gentle breeze came sweeping inland from the Atlantic, I could not but think how emblematic it was of that wider breeze of power, which, from this Republican Metropolis, sweeps to the ends of American Empire.

Washington, as a city, pales before its commercial rivals, but as the centre of public buildings it is unequalled and unique. I wandered for hours about its Patent-office, looking at models of everything which it has entered man's brain to conceive. Skates, ships, sewing-machines, looms, bridges, harness, huts, railway carriages, steam-engines, and Mississippi steamboats of fifty years ago, are all represented here by models. The Blue Corridor is especially interesting and handsome; here in glass cases are shown all presents from Europe and the East, which the Chief Magistrates of the United States have in turn received. The Post Office is a fine building, and the Treasury still finer. It is large and spacious already, but portico and corridor are still rising in interminable rank to add to its size and beauty. It is one of America's "peculiar institutions" to provide employment for numbers of female clerks in the public offices at the Capitol. Entering the Treasury I was somewhat hurt by the incivility and surliness of the doorkeepers, but penetrating beyond them I found an old gentleman who by his kindness to me, more than redeemed the national character for courtesy. Business hours were over, but he gratified my whim by sending to the treasury-keepers for some new greenbacks for me to keep as curiosities. For one who cannot study American national history as depicted in the frescoes of the Rotunda, American Bank-notes will supply a faithful and fac-simile gallery of illustration. "The Pilgrim's Landing," ," "De Soto's Discovery," and many other scenes are engraved upon their National Bank scrip; as the note varies in amount, so the picture stamped upon it varies also. An Englishman, George Houseman Thomas, rendered able service to America by the drawings which he supplied for these highly-finished vignettes. I sat for