"Washington held a levee once a week, and, from what is now recollected, they were generally well attended, but confined to men in public life and gentlemen of leisure, for at that day it would have been thought a breach of decorum to visit the President of the United States in dishabille.
"The arrival of Washington, in 1789, to assume the reins of government, was not his first entry into this city, accompanied with honor to himself and glory to this country. This was on the 24th of November, 1783, and here again, I must observe, the number present who witnessed the ceremonies of that day, must, indeed, be very limited; on that day he made his triumphal entry, not to sway the sceptre, but to lay down his sword, not for personal aggrandizement, but to secure the happiness of his countrymen. He early in the morning left Harlem and entered the city through what is now called the Bowery; he was escorted by cavalry and infantry and a large concourse of citizens, on horseback and on foot, in plain dress. The latter must have been an interesting sight to those of mature age who were capable of comprehending their merit. In their ranks were seen men with patched elbows, odd buttons on their coats and unmatched buckles in their shoes; they were not, indeed, Falstaff's company of scarecrows, but the most respectable citizens who had been in exile, and endured privations we know not of, for seven long and tedious years."
On that occasion, and on his arrival in 1789, Washington was received, as is well known, by the elder Clinton, who was at both periods Governor of the State.
In the following extract, from a reliable source, we have a fine description of the effect produced by Washington's personal appearance and manners on the mind of a highly intelligent observer:
"The beautiful effusion which the reader will find below is the production of the chaste and classic mind of the late venerable and distinguished senator from Rhode Island, Mr. Robbins, and was occasioned by the following circumstances. During the session of 1837-8, Mr. Webster entertained a large party of friends at dinner, among them the venerable senator we have named. The evening passed off with much hilarity, enlivened with wit and sentiment, but, during the greater part of the time, Mr. Robbins maintained that grave but placid silence which was his habit. While thus apparently abstracted, someone suddenly called on him for a toast, which call was seconded by the company. He rose, and in his surprise asked if they were serious in making such a demand of so old a man, and being assured that they were, he said, if they would suspend their hilarity for a few moments, he would give them a toast and preface it with a few observations. Having thus secured a breathless stillness, he went on to remark, that they were then on the verge of the 22d of February, the anniversary of the birth of the great patriot and statesman of our country, whom all delighted to remember and to honor, and he hoped he might be allowed the privilege of an aged man to recur, for a few moments, to past events connected with his character and history. He then proceeded and delivered in the most happy and impressive manner the beautiful speech which now graces our columns. The whole company were electrified by his patriotic enthusiasm, and one of the guests, before they separated, begged that he would take the trouble to put on paper what he had so happily expressed and furnish a copy for publication. Mr. Robbins obligingly complied with this request on the following day, but by some accident the manuscript got mislaid and eluded all search for it until a few days ago, when it was unexpectedly recovered, and is now presented to our readers.
"'On the near approach of that calendar-day which gave birth to Washington, I feel rekindling within me some of those emotions always connected with the recollection of that hallowed name. Permit me to indulge them, on this occasion, for a moment, in a few remarks, as preliminary to a sentiment which I shall beg leave to propose.
"'I consider it as one of the consolations of my age, that I am old enough and fortunate enough to have seen that wonderful man. This happiness is still common to so many yet among the living, that less is thought of it now than will be in after-times; but it is no less a happiness to me on that account.
"'While a boy at school, I saw him for the first time; it was when he was passing through New England, to take command in chief of the American armies at Cambridge. Never shall I forget the impression his imposing presence then made upon my young imagination, so superior did he seem to me to all that I had seen or imagined of the human form for striking effect. I remember with what delight, in my after studies, I came to the line in Virgil that expressed all the enthusiasm of my own feelings, as inspired by that presence, and which I could not often enough repeat:
"'I saw him again at his interview with Rochambeau, when they met to settle the plan of combined operations between the French fleet and the American armies against the British on the Chesapeake, and then I saw the immense crowd drawn together from all the neighboring towns, to get, if possible, one look at the man who had throned himself in every heart. Not one of that immense crowd doubted the final triumph of his country in her arduous conflict, for everyone saw, or thought he saw, in Washington, her guardian angel, commissioned by Heaven to insure her that triumph. 'Nil desperandum' was the motto with everyone.
"'In after-life, when the judgment corrects the extravagance of early impressions, I saw him on several occasions, but saw nothing to admonish me of any extravagance in my early impressions. "Credo equidem, nee vana fides, genus esse Deorum." {10}