The City of Washington is the central point of interest of that stage on which is being performed the second century act in the great drama of self-government.

The actors here are the representatives of 85,000,000 of people. The spectators are all the peoples of the world, to be succeeded by those of all future ages.

If this experiment in self-government should fail, all other republics will surely perish; but we believe that the Republic of the United States of America has taken its place as a fixed star in the galaxy of great nations, and that the stars on its flag will not be dimmed till dimmed in the blaze of humanity's millennium. Therefore, the actors and the buildings of this great city, which are parts of the dramatis personÆ and the furniture of the stage, can not fail to be interesting to any child of the republic.

Baron Humboldt, in 1804, when standing on the west balcony of the Capitol building, said: "This point gives the most beautiful view of its type in the world."

Senator Sumner said: "The City of Washington is more beautiful than ancient Rome."

Besides what one can behold of the great city from that point, across the Potomac can be seen the heights of Arlington, where sleep so many of the sacred dead of the nation.

The place is also famed as having been the home of Robert E. Lee, noted in early days for a generous Southern hospitality. If walls could speak, what thrilling stories of chivalrous men and fair women could be there heard!

On the south of Washington, in plain view, lies the quaint old town of Alexandria, where Ellsworth was killed, while far to the north is Howard University, used chiefly for the education of colored people—the one the type of the departing past, the other the emblem of the possibilities of a coming hopeful future.

Washington is the only city in the world built exclusively to serve as a capital. Just after the Revolution, Congress, sitting in Philadelphia, was grossly insulted by the unpaid returning troops, against whom the city offered no adequate protection. Congress then adjourned to the collegiate halls of Princeton, where resolutions were offered to erect buildings for the exclusive use of Congress, either on the Delaware River or on the Potomac River.

Several States were applicants for the permanent seat of government, but diplomacy and a good dinner settled the question in favor of its present site.

We are apt to think everything was done in that day on the high plane of patriotism, but prejudice, provincialism, and avarice each played its part.

Hamilton was desirous of having his treasury policy adopted. The North favored this policy, but the representatives from that section, accustomed to the comforts of New York and Philadelphia, had no inclination to establish the Capitol on a swampy Southern plantation, away from the usual lines of travel.

Washington was with the South. Jefferson gave a great dinner, where, under the influence of rare old wine and the witching words of Hamilton, Northern ease, in exchange for Southern consent to the treasury policy, gave way to the Southern desire that the nation's Capitol should be located in its present position.

The land was purchased from four planters—Young, Carroll, Davidson, and David Burns. Mr. Burns was not willing to part with his land at the rates offered. When Washington remonstrated, the old Scotchman said: "I suppose, Mr. Washington, you think that people are going to take every grist that comes from you as pure grain; but who would you have been if you had not married the widow Custis?"

Posterity is apt to inquire, Who would ever have heard of the widow Custis if she had not married George Washington?

But government had ways, then as now, of bringing about conclusions when property was wanted for public purposes.