A ferry at George Town crosses the Potomac, and about two miles from it, on the Virginian side, is Arlington, the seat of Mr. Custis, who is the grandson of General Washington’s wife.  It is a noble looking place, having a portico of stately white columns, which, as the mansion stands high, with a background of dark woods, forms a beautiful object in the landscape.  At George Town is a nunnery, where many young ladies are educated, and at a little distance from it, a college of Jesuits for the education of young men, where, as their advertisements state, “the humanities are taught.”  We attended mass at the chapel of the nunnery, where the female voices that performed the chant were very pleasing.  The shadowy form of the veiled abbess in her little sacred parlour, seen through a grating and a black curtain, but rendered clearly visible by the light of a Gothic window behind her, drew a good deal of our attention; every act of genuflection, even the telling her beads, was discernible, but so mistily that it gave her, indeed, the appearance of a being who had already quitted this life, and was hovering on the confines of the world of shadows.

The convent has a considerable inclosure attached to it, where I frequently saw from the heights above it, dark figures in awfully thick black veils, walking solemnly up and down.

The American lady, who was the subject of one of Prince Hohenlohe’s celebrated miracles, was pointed out to us at Washington.  All the world declare that her recovery was marvellous.

There appeared to be a great many foreigners at Washington, particularly French.  In Paris I have often observed that it was a sort of fashion to speak of America as a new Utopia, especially among the young liberals, who, before the happy accession of Philip, fancied that a country without a king, was the land of promise; but I sometimes thought that, like many other fine things, it lost part of its brilliance when examined too nearly; I overheard the following question and answer pass between two young Frenchmen, who appeared to have met for the first time.

“Eh bien.  Monsieur, comment trouvez-vous la liberte et l’egalite mises en action?”

“Mais, Monsieur, je vous avoue que ie beau ideal que nous autres, nous avons concu de tout cela a Paris, avait quelque chose de plus poetique que ce que nous trouvons ici!”

On another occasion I was excessively amused by the tone in which one of these young men replied to a question put to him by another Frenchman.  A pretty looking woman, but exceedingly deficient in tournure, was standing alone at a little distance from them and close at their elbows stood a very awkward looking gentleman.  “Qui est cette dame?” said the enquirer.  “Monsieur,” said my young fat, with an indescribable grimace, “c’est la femelle de ce male, " indicating his neighbour by an expressive curl of his upper lip.