The President was very fond of the theatre, and invited a party once a week to accompany him to John Street.  He entertained at table constantly, and dined out formally and intimately.  Congress, he attended in great state.  He had brought to New York six white horses of the finest Virginian breed, and a magnificent cream-coloured coach, ornamented with cupids and festoons.  For state occasions the horses were covered over night with a white paste, and polished next morning until they shone like silver.  The hoofs were painted black.  When Washington drove through the city on his way to Congress, attended by postilions and outriders, it is little wonder that he had a royal progress through proud and satisfied throngs.

The Adamses, who had counselled all the usages of foreign courts, but had been outvoted by Hamilton and Jay, entertained but little less than the President; and so did the Schuylers, Livingstons, Jays, and half the town.  The Hamiltons, of necessity, entertained far more simply; but Betsey received every Wednesday evening, when her rooms were a crush of fashion and politics, eager for a glimpse of Hamilton and to do court to her popular self.  They gave at least one dinner a week, but Betsey as a rule went out with her parents, for her husband was too busy for society.

The world saw little of Hamilton at this time, and Betsey but little more.  He worked in his library or office for fourteen hours of the day, while the country teemed with conjectures of his coming Report.  A disposition to speculate upon it was already manifest, and more than one friend endeavoured to gain a hint of its contents.  Not even Madison, to whom he had talked more freely than to anyone, knew aught of the details of that momentous Report, what recommendations he actually should make to Congress; for none knew better than he that a hint derived from him which should lead to profitable speculation would tarnish his good name irretrievably.  Careless in much else, on the subject of his private and public integrity he was rigid; he would not have yielded a point to retain the affection of the best and most valued of his friends.  Fastidious by nature on the question of his honour, he knew, also, that other accusations, even when verified, mattered little in the long run; a man’s actual position in life and in history was determined by the weight of his brain and the spotlessness of his public character.  He worked in secret, with no help from anyone; nor could blandishments extract a hint of his purpose.  Against the rock of his integrity passion availed nothing.  As for Betsey, between her growing children, the delicacy which had followed the birth of her last child, and her heavy social duties, she would have had little time to assist him had he confided even in her.  Moreover, to keep up a dignified position upon $3500 a year cost her clever little Dutch head much anxious thought.  It is true that some money had been put aside from the income of her husband’s large