"Shortly
after I came to New York, Aaron Burr was pointed out to me as he was
slowly wending his way up Broadway, between Chambers street and the old
theatre, on the City Hall side. I frequently afterward met him in this
and other streets. He was always an object of interest, inasmuch as he
had become an historical character, somewhat notoriously so. I will
attempt to describe his appearance, or rather how he appeared to me: He
was small, thin and attenuated in form, perhaps a little over five feet
in height, weight not much over a hundred pounds. He walked with a slow,
measured and feeble step, stooping considerably, occasionally with both
hands behind his back. He had a keen face and deep-set, dark eye, his
hat set deep on his head, the back part sunk down to the collar of the
coat and the back brim somewhat turned upward. He was dressed in
threadbare black cloth, having the appearance of what is known as shabby
genteel. His countenance wore a melancholy aspect, and his whole
appearance betokened one dejected, forsaken, forgotten or cast aside,
and conscious of his position. He was invariably alone when I saw him,
except on a single occasion: that was on the sidewalk in Broadway
fronting what is now the Astor House, where he was standing talking very
familiarly with a young woman whom he held by one hand. His countenance
on that occasion was cheerful, lighted up and bland--altogether
different from what it appeared to me when I saw him alone and in
conversation with himself. Burr must have been a very exact man in his
business-affairs. His receipt-book came into my possession. I found
there receipts for a load of wood, a carpenter's work for one day, a
pair of boots, milk for a certain number of weeks, suit of clothes,
besides numerous other small transactions that but few would think of
taking a receipt for. The book was but a sorry, cheap affair, and could
not have cost when new more than fifty cents."

Edwin Forrest is thus mentioned: "At the time when Forrest was earning
his reputation on the boards of the Bowery Theatre I was connected with
that institution, and of course had an opportunity of seeing him every
night he performed. Mr. Forrest appeared to be possessed of the
perfection of physical form, more especially conspicuous when arrayed in
some peculiar costumes which tended to display it to the best advantage.
He had a stentorian voice, and must have had lungs not less invulnerable
than one of Homer's hero