first gun would be heard, a venerable citizen was seen to leave his office, and moving at a more than usual pace, ascend the steps of the presidential mansion. He gave in no name—he required no ceremony of introduction — but, making his way to the family parlor, opened the general gratulation by the first welcome of Robert Morris.

A fine volunteer corps, called the light-infantry, from the famed light-infantry of the Revolutionary army, commanded by Lafayette, mounted a guard of honor at headquarters during the levee on the national days. When it was about to close, the soldiers, headed by their sergeants, marched with trailed arms and noiseless step through the hall to a spot where huge bowls of punch had been prepared for their refreshment, when, after quaffing a deep carouse, with three hearty cheers to the health of the president, they countermarched to the street, the bands struck up the favorite air, "forward was the word, and the levee was ended.*

* In the year 1790, according to the following sketch, taken from an old number of the London New Monthly Magazine, an appreciating English gentleman visited the president. The sketch has been attributed to the pen of Hazlitt: "I remember my father telling me he was introduced to Washington, in 1790, by an American friend. A servant, well-looking and well-dressed, received the visitants at the door, and by him they were delivered over to an officer of the United States' service, who ushered them into the drawing-room, in which Mrs. Washington and several ladies were seated. There was nothing remarkable in the person of the lady of the president; she was matronly and kind, with perfect good-breeding; she at once entered into easy conversation, asked how long he had been in America, how he liked the country, and such other familiar, but general questions. In a few minutes the gencral was in the room; it was not necessary to announce his name, for his peculiar appearance, his firm forehead, Roman nose, and a projection of the lower jaw, his height and figure, could not be mistaken by any one who had seen a full-length picture of him, and yet no picture accurately resembled him in the minute traits of his person. His features, however, were so marked by prominent characteristics, which appear in all likenesses of him that a stranger could not be mistaken in the man; he was remarkably dignified in his manners, and had an air of benignity over his features which his visitant did not expect, being rather prepared for sternness of countenance.

"Old times are changed, old manners gone." True, we have become a mighty empire in extent, wealth, and

"After an introduction by Mrs. Washington, without more form than common good manners prescribes, 'he requested me,' said my father, to be seated; and, taking a chair himself, entered at once into conversation. His manner was full of affability. He asked how I liked the country, the city of New York: talked of the infant institutions of America, and the advantages she offered, by her intercourse, for benefitting other nations. He was grave in manner, but perfectly easy. His dress was of purple satin. There was a commanding air in his appearance which excited respect, and forbade too great a freedom towards him, independently of that species of awe which is always felt in the moral influence of a great character. In every movement, too, there was a polite gracefulness equal to any met with in the most polished individuals in Europe, and his smile was extraordinarily attractive. It was observed to me that there was an expression in Washington's face that no painter had succeeded in taking. It struck me no man could be better formed for command. A stature of six fect, a robust, but well-proportioned frame, calculated to sustain fatigue, without that heaviness which generally attends great muscular strength, and abates active exertion, displayed bodily power of no mean standard. A light eye and full-the very eye of genius and reflection, rather than of blind passionate impulse. His nose appeared thick, and though it befitted his other features, was too coarsely and strongly formed to be the handsomest of its class. His mouth was like no other that I ever saw; the lips firm, and the under-jaw seeming to grasp the upper with force, as if its muscles were in full action when he sat still. Neither with the general nor with Mrs. Washington was there the slightest restraint of ceremony. There was less of it than I ever recollect to have met with, where perfect good-breeding and manners were at the same time observed. To many remarks Washington assented with a smile or inclination of the head, as if he were by nature sparing in his conversation, and I am inclined to think this was the case. An allusion was made to a serious fit of illness he had recently suffered; but he took no notice of it. I could not help remarking, that America must have looked with anxiety to the termination of his indisposition. He made no reply to my compli ment but by an inclination of the head. His bow at my taking leave I shall never forget. It was the last movement which I saw that illustrious character make, as my eyes took their leave of him for ever, and it hangs a perfect picture upon my recollection. The house of Washington was in the Broadway, and the street front was handsome. The drawing-room in which I sat was lofty and spacious; but the furniture was not beyond that found in dwellings of opulent Americans in general, and might be called plain for its situation. The upper end of the room had glass doors, which opened upon a balcony, commanding an extensive view of the Hudson river, interspersed with islands, and the Jersey shore on the opposite side. A grandson and daughter resided constantly in the house with the general, and a nephew of the general's, married to a niece of Mrs. Washington, resided at Mount Vernon, the general's family-seat in Virginia; his residence, as president, keeping him at the

population; but where, Americans, is the spirit of '76, the glorious and immortal spirit that dignified and adorned the early days of the republic and the age of Washington? Shall it decline and die among us? Swear on the altar of your liberty that it shall live for ever!

seat of government.' The levees held by Washington, as president, were generally crowded, and held on Tuesday, between three and four o'clock. The president stood, and received the bow of the person presented, who retired to make way for another. At the drawing-room, Mrs. Washington received the ladies, who courtesied, and passed aside without exchanging a word. Tea and coffee, with refreshments of all kinds, were laid in one part of the rooms, and before the individuals of the company retired, each lady was a second time led up to the lady-president, made her second silent obeisance, and departed. Nothing could be more simple, yet it was enough."

CHAPTER XXII.

THE RETIRED PRESIDENT.

WASHINGTON RETIRES FROM THE PRESIDENCY

INAUGURATION OF MR. ADAMS-ARRANGEMENT OF WASHINGTON'S LETTERS AND PAPERS-ALBERT RAWLINS EMPLOYED TO COPY LETTERSPUBLICATION OF PRIVATE MEMOIRS OF WASHINGTON POSTPONED-CHARACTER OF SOME OF THE LETTERS COPIED THE OLD FAMILY VAULT-SITE FOR A NEW ONE SELECTED BY WASHINGTON-DISPOSITION OF WASHINGTON'S REMAINS - THE DESIRES OF THE GOVERNMENT — MES. WASHINGTON'S WISH-WASHINGTON'S IMPROVEMENT OF HIS FARMS-A PORTRAIT OF The Farmer at Mount VernON-HIS DAILY RIDES-HONORS AND COMPLIMENTS - FRENCH EMIGRANTS AT MOUNT VERNON-G. W. LAFAYETTE REPAIRS OF THE MANSION-SIR JOHN SINCLAIR- MARRIAGE AT MOUNT VERNON IN 1799-BILLY-WASHINGTON'S LAST VISITS TO ALEXANDRIA-HE DINES THERE-HIS LAST REVIEW-EVENINGS AT MOUNT VERNONWASHINGTON NO LONGER A SPORTSMAN - FATHER JACK-TOM DAVIS-REFLECTIONS.

ON the fourth of March, 1797, Washington, as a private citizen, attended the dignified ceremonials of the inauguration of his successor, John Adams;* and during

* On that occasion, there was a dense crowd in the house of representatives to witness the ceremony of the inauguration of a new president. The Congress, during the residence of the federal government in Philadelphia, held their sessions in the courthouse, on the corner of Sixth and Chestnut streets; and the hall of the representatives is thus described by a cotemporary writer: "The house of representatives, in session, occupied the ground floor. There was a platform elevated three steps, plainly carpeted, and covering nearly the whole of the area, with a limited promenade for the members and privileged persons; and four narrow desks between the Sixth-street windows, for the stenographers, Lloyd, Gales, Callender, and Duane. The speaker's chair, without canopy, was of plain leather and brass nails, facing the east, at or near the centre of the western wall."

At the appointed hour, Washington entered the hall amidst the most enthusiastic cheers, and was soon followed by Mr. Adams, the president elect, who was about to take the oath of office. When they were seated, perfect silence prevailed, Washington then arose, and with great dignity introduced Mr. Adams to the audience, and proceeded to read, in a firm clear voice, a brief valedictory; not the great “Farewell Address," for that was published six months before.

the preparations for his departure from the seat of government, the ex-president enjoyed an interchange of

Mrs. Susan R. Echard, a daughter of Colonel Read, now (1859) living in Philadelphia, at the age of eighty-three years, was present on this interesting occasion, and in a letter to a kinsman, given below, has described the scene. It may be interesting to know that the memory of Mr. Rembrandt Peale, who, two years before, had painted Washington's portrait, from life, and who was also present in the gallery on that occasion, fully agrees with that of Mrs. Echard.

Mrs. Echard remarks: "When General Washington delivered his 'Farewell Address,' in the room at the southeast corner of Chestnut and Sixth streets, I sat immediately in front of him. It was in the room Congress occupied. The table of the speaker was between the two windows on Sixth street. The daughter of Dr. C., [Craik] of Alexandria, the physician and intimate friend of Washington, Mrs. H., [Harrison] whose husband was the auditor, was a very dear friend of mine. Her brother Washington was one of the secretaries of General Washington. Young Dandridge, a nephew of Mrs. Washington, was the other. I was included in Mrs. H.'s party, to witness the august, the solemn scene. Mr. H. declined going with Mrs. H., as she had determined to go early, so as to secure the front bench. It was fortunate for Miss C., [Custis] (afterwards Mrs. L.) [Lewis] that she could not trust herself to be so near her honored grandfather. My dear father stood very near her. She was terribly agitated. There was a narrow passage from the door of entrance to the room, which was on the east, dividing the rows of benches. General Washington stopped at the end to let Mr. Adams pass to the chair. The latter always wore a full suit of bright drab, with lash or loose cuffs to his coat. He always wore wrist ruffles. He had not changed his fashions. He was a short man, with a good head. With his family he attended our church twice a day. General Washington's dress was a full suit of black. His military hat had the black cockade. There stood the Father of his Country,' acknowledged by nations the first in war, first

in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen. No marshals with gold-colored scarfs attended him—there was no cheering - no noise; the most profound silence greeted him, as if the great assembly desired to hear him breathe, and catch his breath in homage of their hearts. Mr. Adams covered his face with both his hands; the sleeves of his coat, and his hands, were covered with tears. Every now and then there was a suppressed sob. I can not describe Washington's appearance as I felt it perfectly composed and self-possessed, till the close of his address: Then, when strong nervous sobs broke loose, when tears covered the faces, then the great man was shaken. I never took my eyes from his face. Large drops came from his eyes. He looked to the youthful children who were parting with their father, their friend, as if his heart was with them, and would be to the end."

In this connection, some reminiscences of Washington, and the Congress at Philadelphia, by the late Reverend Ashbel Greene, are specially interesting: "After a great deal of talking, and writing, and controversy, about the permanent seat of Congress, under the present constitution," says Mr. Greene, "it was determined