By birth an aristocrat, by nature he was a democrat. The most learned
man that ever sat in the president's chair, his tastes were the simple
ones of a farmer. Surrounded by the pomp and ceremony of Washington and
Adams' courts, his dress was homely. He despised titles, and preferred
severe plainness of speech and the sober garb of the Quakers.

"What is the date of your birth, Mr. President?" asked an admirer.

"Of what possible concern is that to you?" queried the President in
turn.

"We wish to give it fitting celebration."

"For that reason, I decline to enlighten you; nothing could be more
distasteful to me than what you propose, and, when you address me, I
shall be obliged if you will omit the 'Mr.'"

If we can imagine Washington doing so undignified a thing as did
President Lincoln, when he first met our present Secretary of State,
(John Sherman) and compared their respective heights by standing back to
back, a sheet of paper resting on the crowns of Washington and Jefferson
would have lain horizontal and been six feet two inches from the earth,
but the one was magnificent in physique, of massive frame and prodigious
strength,--the other was thin, wiry, bony, active, but with muscles of
steel, while both were as straight as the proverbial Indian arrow.

Jefferson's hair was of sandy color, his cheeks ruddy, his eyes of a
light hazel, his features angular, but glowing with intelligence and
neither could lay any claim to the gift of oratory.