partment of State, as a testimony to the truth to the present generation and to posterity."

On the same day he gave a kind of farewell dinner to the foreign ministers and their wives, Mr. and Mrs. Adams, Mr. Jefferson, and other conspicuous personages of both sexes. "During the dinner much hilarity prevailed," says Bishop White, who was present. When the cloth was removed, Washington filled his glass: "Ladies and gentlemen," said he, "this is the last time I shall drink your health as a public man; I do it with sincerity, wishing you all possible happiness."

The gayety of the company was checked in an instant; all felt the importance of this leavetaking; Mrs. Liston, the wife of the British minister, was so much affected that tears streamed down her cheeks.

On the 4th of March an immense crowd had gathered about Congress Hall. At eleven o'clock, Mr. Jefferson took the oath as VicePresident in the presence of the Senate; and proceeded with that body to the chamber of the House of Representatives, which was densely crowded, many ladies occupying chairs ceded to them by members.

After a time Washington entered amidst enthusiastic cheers and acclamations, and the waving of handkerchiefs. Mr. Adams soon

followed and was likewise well received, but not with like enthusiasm. Having taken the oath of office, Mr. Adams, in his inaugural address, spoke of his predecessor as one "who, by a long course of great actions, regulated by prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude, had merited the gratitude of his fellow-citizens, commanded the highest praises of foreign nations, and secured immortal glory with posterity."

At the close of the ceremony, as Washington moved toward the door to retire, there was a rush from the gallery to the corridor that threatened the loss of life or limb, so eager were the throng to catch a last look of one who had so long been the object of public veneration. When Washington was in the street he waved his hat in return for the cheers of the multitude, his countenance radiant with benignity, his gray hairs streaming in the wind. The crowd followed him to his door; there, turning round, his countenance assumed a grave and almost melancholy expression, his eyes were bathed in tears, his emotions were too great for utterance, and only by gestures could he indicate his thanks and convey his farewell blessing. *

* From personal recollections of Willianı A. Duer, late President of Columbia College.