and his residence
was at Richmond Hill. This place has lately been pulled down; it stood
far away from the city, in a wild, secluded neighborhood, and in bad
going was quite an out of the way spot, though now it would be in the
densest part of the city. As there were no public vehicles plying in
this direction, except the Chelsea (Twenty-eighth street) stage, which
was very unreliable, one either had to hire a coach or else be subjected
to a walk of two miles. But such as had the _entree_ of this
establishment would be well rewarded, even for these difficulties, by an
interview with Theodosia Burr, the most charming creature of her day.
She was married early, and we saw but little of her. From the interest
which the Irvings felt in Burr's fortunes, it might have been expected
that they should sympathize with him in his subsequent reverses.

The biographer presents Washington Irving as an attendant at the famous
trial at Richmond, where his indignation at some of Burr's privations
are expressed in a most interesting letter. This sympathy is the more
touching from the fact that Washington was a Federalist, and in this
respect differed from his brothers. We have an idea that his youthful
politics were in no small degree influenced by those of that
illustrious personage for whom he was named. Another of the sons was
John T., who became a successful and wealthy jurist, and for many years
presided at New-York Common Pleas, while Ebenezer was established in
trade at an early day. Such was the development of that family, which in
rosy childhood followed William Irving to the old Brick Church, and
whose early progress he was permitted to witness. The biographer passes
lightly over the scenes of boyhood, and there was hardly any need for
his expatiating on that idolatry which surrounded the youngest. He was
no doubt the first child ever named after the father of his country, and
the touching incident of Lizzie's presenting the chubby, bright-eyed boy
to Washington, is hit off in a few touches. It was, however, in itself a
sublime thing. Nearly seventy years afterward, that child, still feeling
the hand of benediction resting upon him, concludes his _Life of
Washington_ by a description of his reception in New-York, of which he
had been a witness. Why does he not (it would have been a most
pardonable allusion) bring in the incident referred to above? Ah!
modesty forbade; yet, as he penned that description, his heart must have
rejo