has a single piece of porcelain ware that belonged to the household goods of Mount Vernon. It is a white china butterbowl and dish, with a cover. It is entirely white, with the exception of a gold stripe along the edges of the bowl and

CHINA BUTTER-BOWL AND DISH.

dish, and the knob of the lid. The bowl and dish are united.

At that time the china like that presented by the French officers was only

made at the Sèvres manufactory, the art of decorating porcelain or china-ware with enamel colors and gold being then not generally known. The colors used are all prepared from metallic oxides, which are ground with fluxes, or fusible glasses of various degrees of softness, suited to the peculiar colors with which they are used. When painted, the goods are placed in the enamel kiln, when the fluxed colors melt and fasten to the glazed surface, forming colored glasses. The gold, which is applied in the form of an amalgam, ground in turpentine, is afterward polished with steel burnishers.

The first Monday in December was the day fixed upon for the assembling of Congress. The seat of government, as we have observed, had been transferred to Philadelphia, not per manently, but temporarily. As early as December, 1788, the legislature of Virginia had offered to present to the United States a tract of land ten miles square, anywhere within the bounds of that commonwealth, for the permanent seat of government. Maryland made a similar offer. The citizens of New Jersey and Pennsylvania asked to have it upon the Delaware, within a tract of land ten miles square, to be ceded

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to the United States. The people of Trenton, in New Jersey, petitioned to have it there; those of Lancaster, in Pennsylvania, wished to have it there, while, as we have observed, the Philadelphians were extremely anxious to have their city remain the federal capital, as it had been most of the time since the commencement of the Revolution.

States and towns perceived great local advantages to be derived from a political metropolis in their midst, and were ready to make heavy sacrifices to obtain the boon. It is amusing to observe, in the correspondence and public proceedings of the times, how strongly local prejudices were engaged in the consideration of the matter. Dr. Rush, of Philadelphia, eager to have the Congress fix on that city as its future home, wrote to one of the Pennsylvania representatives, saying: “I rejoice in the prospect of Congress leaving New York; it is a sink of political vice;" and advised tearing it away from that city "in any way." A Virginian declared that, in his opinion, New York was the best situation in the Union for the national capital, it being superior to any place within his knowledge “for the orderly and decent behavior of its inhabitants;" while the South Carolinians objected to Philadelphia, on account of the Quakers, who, they declared, were "eternally dogging Southern members with their schemes of slave emancipation."

It was finally agreed by both Houses of Congress, that the national capital should be upon the "Potomac River, between the eastern branch and Conogocheague," and that Philadelphia should be the national city for ten years, until the one upon the Potomac should be laid out, and proper public buildings erected. The selection of the exact site was left to the Presi

dent.

This action dissatisfied the New Yorkers, and elated the Philadelphians, for they considered a "half loaf better than no bread." Robert Morris had been chiefly instrumental in securing the residence of the government at Philadelphia for the ten years, and wit and satire pointed their keenest arrows at him. A caricature was issued "in which," says Griswold, "the stout senator from Pennsylvania was seen marching off with the federal hall upon his shoulders, its windows crowded with members of both houses, encouraging or anathematizing this novel mode of deportation, while the devil, from the roof of the Paulus' Hook ferry-house, beckoned to him in a patronizing manner, crying, 'This way, Bobby."

Freneau, who had written many pungent poems during the Revolution, used his pen upon the topic of the removal with considerable vigor, in prose and verse. In a political epistle, he makes a New York housemaid say to her friend in Philadelphia:

"As for us, my dear Nanny, we're much in a pet,
And hundreds of houses will be to be let;

Our streets, that were just in a way to look clever,
Will now be neglected and nasty as ever;
Again we must fret at the Dutchified gutters

And pebble-stone pavements, that wear out our trotters.

This Congress unsettled is, sure, a sad thing—

Seven years, my dear Nanny, they've been on the wing;
My master would rather saw timber, or dig

Than see them removing to Conogocheague—

Where the houses and kitchens are yet to be framed,

The trees to be felled and the streets to be named."

There were some Philadelphians who were as afflicted

because Congress was coming there, as New Yorkers were in having the government leave their city. As soon as it was ascertained that the government would reside there ten years, rents, and the prices of every kind of provisions and other necessaries of life, greatly advanced. "Some of the blessings," said a letter-writer at Philadelphia, quoted by Griswold, "anticipated from the removal of Congress to this city, are already beginning to be apparent. Rents of houses have risen, and I fear will continue to rise shamefully; even in the outskirts they have lately been increased from fourteen, sixteen, and eighteen pounds to twenty-five, twenty-eight, and thirty. This is oppression. Our markets, it is expected, will also be dearer than heretofore."

It was a view of these changes, and anticipated extortion, that made Washington so anxious to know beforehand how much rent he must pay for his house in Philadelphia, and to avoid furnishing it in an extravagant manner, as he did not expect to remain there more than two years. He was resolved to continue the unostentatious way of living he had commenced in New York, not only on his own account, but for the benefit of those connected with the government who could not afford to spend more than their salaries. And that resolution, well carried out, was most salutary in its effects. When Oliver Wolcott, of Connecticut, was appointed first auditor of the treasury, he, like a prudent man, before he would accept the office, went to New York to ascertain whether he could live upon the salary of fifteen hundred dollars a year. He came to the conclusion that he could live upon one thousand dollars a year, and he wrote to his wife, saying: "The example of the President and his family will render parade

and expense improper and disreputable." This sentence speaks powerfully in illustration of the republican simplicity of Washington's household in those days.

The rent of Morris's house was fixed at three thousand dollars a year, and on the 22d of November, Washington left Mount Vernon for Philadelphia, accompanied by Mrs. Washington and Master and Miss Custis, in a chariot drawn by four horses. They were allowed to travel quietly, without any public parade, but receiving at every stopping-place the warm welcome of many private citizens and personal friends. None gave the President a heartier shake of the hand on this occasion, and none was more welcome to grasp it, than Tommy Giles, a short, thickset man, of English birth, who kept a little tavern a short distance from the Head of Elk (now Elkton), on the road from Baltimore. His tavern-sign displayed a rude portrait of Washington; and the President on his way to and from Mount Vernon, never passed by until he had greeted the worthy man.

Tommy had been a fife-major in the Continental army, and had been employed a long time by Washington as his confidential express in the transmission of money from one point to another. In this business he was most trustworthy. Mrs. Giles was a stout Englishwoman, but republican to the core. Washington always shook hands with her as heartily as with her husband, and frequently left a guinea in her palm.

On these occasions, when the President had passed, Tommy would array himself in his Continental uniform, and hasten to Hollingsworth's tavern, in Elkton (where Washington slept, or took a meal and fed his horses), to pay his respects in a formal manner to his beloved General. Washington always treated him with the greatest consideration, and for several