e announcements were decidedly informal. When the proper time
arrived for the world to be taken into the confidence of a young couple,
they walked upon Broadway arm in arm, thus announcing that their
marriage was imminent.

A dinner given in my young days by my parents to Mr. and Mrs. William C.
Rives still lingers in my memory. Mr. Rives had just been appointed to
his second mission to France, and with his wife was upon the eve of
sailing for his new post of duty. I remember that it was a large
entertainment, but the only guests whom I recall in addition to the
guests of honor were Mr. and Mrs. James A. Hamilton. He was a son of
Alexander Hamilton, and was at the time United States District Attorney
in New York. It seems strange, indeed, that the other guests should have
escaped my memory, but a head-dress worn by Mrs. Hamilton struck my
young fancy and I have never forgotten it. As I recall that occasion I
can see her handsome face surmounted by a huge fluffy pink cap. This Mr.
and Mrs. Hamilton were the parents of Alexander Hamilton, the third, who
married Angelica, daughter of Maturin Livingston, and who, by the way,
as I remember, was one of the most graceful dancers and noted belles of
her day.

Thomas Morris, son of Robert Morris the great financier of the
Revolution, was my father's life-long friend. He was an able
_raconteur_, and I recall many conversations relating to his early
life, a portion of which had been spent in Paris at its celebrated
Polytechnic School. One incident connected with his career is especially
interesting. When the sordid Louis Philippe, then the Duke of Orleans,
was wandering in this country, teaching in his native tongue "the young
idea how to shoot," he was the guest for a time of Mr. Morris. Several
years later when John Greig, a Scotchman and prominent citizen of
Canandaigua, New York, was about to sail for France, Mr. Morris gave him
a letter of introduction to the Duke. Upon his arrival in Havre after a
lengthy voyage he found much to his surprise that Louis Philippe was
comfortably seated upon the throne of France. Under these altered
conditions he hesitated to present his letter, but after mature
consideration sought an audience with the new King; and it is a pleasing
commentary upon human nature to add that he was welcomed with open arms.
The King had by no means forgotten the hospitality he had received in
America, and especially the many favors extended by the Morris family.