even with the most intimate friends, that no distinction might be made.

"As visitors came in, they formed a circle around the room. At a quarter past three the door was closed, and the circle was formed for that day. He then began on the right, and spoke to each visitor, calling him by name, and exchanging a few words with him. When he had completed his circuit, he resumed his first position, and the visitors approached him in succession, bowed, and retired. By four o'clock this ceremony was over."

In New York the President occupied the mansion at No. 10 Cherry-street, for about nine months, and then moved to a more spacious house on the west side of Broadway, between Trinity Church and the Bowling Green, where the French minister, M. de Moustier, had resided. It was a very pleasant house, with a garden extending to the shore of the Hudson. An English gentleman, who visited the President at that time, described the drawing-room as "lofty and spacious, but," he added, "the furniture was not beyond that found in the 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, and the Jersey shore opposite."

Some of the furniture here alluded to, was purchased of the French minister. Under date of February 1, 1790, Washington recorded in his Diary-" Agreed, on Saturday last to take Mr. McComb's house, lately occupied by the Minister of France, for one year from and after the 1st day of May next; and would go into it immediately, if Mr. Otto, the present possessor, could be accommodated. This day I sent my Secretary to

examine the rooms to see how my furniture would be adapt

ed to the respective apartments."

Two days afterward he recorded:

"Visited the apartments in the house of Mr. McCombsmade a disposition of the rooms-fixed on furniture of the Minister's (which was to be sold, and was well adapted to particular public rooms)-and directed additional stables to be built."

One piece of the French minister's furniture "fixed upon” and purchased at that time, was a writing-desk, or secretary, and also an easy chair that was used with it. These Washington took with him to Philadelphia, and afterward to Mount Vernon; and in his will they were disposed of as follows:

"To my companion in arms and old and intimate friend, Dr. Craik, I give my bureau (or as cabinet-makers call it tambour secretary), and the circular chair, an appendage of my study."

That secretary is now in the possession of a grandson of Dr. Craik, the Reverend James Craik, of Louisville, in Kentucky. The engraving is from a pencil-sketch by Mr. Alexander Casseday.

The seat of the National government was removed from New York to Philadelphia in 1790, by act of Congress. That body adjourned on the 12th of August, and Washington immediately thereafter made a voyage to Newport, Rhode Island, for the benefit of his health. Close application to public business had caused a nervous prostration, that threatened consequences almost as serious as those with which he had been menaced by a malignant carbuncle the year before. He had also suffered severely from a violent inflammation of the lungs.

The sea voyage was beneficial, and on the 30th of August the President and his family set out for Mount Vernon, there to spend the few months before the next meeting of Congress at Philadelphia. They left New York for Elizabethtown in the splendid barge in which they had arrived, amid the thunders of cannon and the huzzas of a great multitude of people. Washington never saw New York again. Having no further use for his barge, he wrote to Mr. Randall, the

chairman of the committee through whom he had received it, saying:

"As I am at this moment about commencing my journey to Virginia, and consequently will have no farther occasion for the use of the barge, I must now desire that you will return it, in my name, and with my best thanks, to the original proprie tors; at the same time I shall be much obliged if you will have the goodness to add, on my part, that in accepting their beautiful present, I considered it as a pledge of that real urbanity which, I am happy in declaring, I have experienced on every occasion during my residence among them; that I ardently wish every species of prosperity may be the constant portion of the respectable citizens of New York; and that I shall always retain a grateful remembrance of the polite attentions of the citizens in general, and of those in particular to whom the contents of this note are addressed."

A few days after this, Washington was again beneath the roof he loved so well, at Mount Vernon, but the coveted enjoyment of his home was lessened by the weight of public cares that pressed upon him. The old feeling of deep responsibility, which it was so difficult for him to lay aside at the close of his military career, returned; and in his library, where he loved to devote his morning hours to reading and the labors of the pen in recording facts connected with his pursuits as a farmer, he might be seen with state papers, maps, plans, and every thing that indicated the weighty cares of a public

man.

The Congress then just closed had been a most important one, and the labors of every conscientious officer and employee of the government had been very severe. Upon them had

been laid the responsible and momentous task of putting in motion the machinery of a new government, and laying the foundations of the then present and future policy of that government, domestic and foreign. As the chief magistrate of the republic, the chief officer of the government, the chief architect of the new superstructure in progress, Washington felt the solemnity of his position, and the importance of the great trusts which the people had placed in his hands; and the sense of all this denied him needful repose, even while sitting within the quietude of his home on the banks of the Potomac.

Just before Congress adjourned, Washington received a curious present, which he carried with him to Mount Vernon. It was the key of the Bastile, that old state prison in Paris, which had become a strong arm of despotism. It was first a royal castle, completed by Charles V. of France, in 1383, for the defence of Paris against the English, but in the lapse of time it had become a fortress, devoted to the selfish purposes of tyranny. It was hated by the people.

During the preceding year, the slumbering volcano of revolution burning in the hearts of the people, upon which for a long time, royalty and the privileged classes in France had been reposing, showed frequent signs of inquietude, which proph esied of violent eruption. The abuses of the government, under the administration of the ministers of a well-meaning but weak monarch, had become unendurable, and the best friends of France had spoken out boldly against them.

Among these the boldest was Lafayette. He had made a formal demand for a National Assembly. "What!" said the Count d'Artois to him on one occasion, "Do you make a motion for the States General?" "Yes, and even more than that,"