Covering the entire period of the city's history, passing through startling changes and transformations, the scene of great happenings, the background of illustrious or curious lives,--it is probably more typical of the vertiginous development of New York than any single section.

The Indians, the Dutch, the English, the Colonials, the Revolutionists, the New Americans, the shining lights of art, science, fashion and the state, have all passed through it, confidently and at home.

The dead have slept there; wicked men have died there and great ones been honoured.
Belles and beaux have minced on their way beneath the thick green branches,--branches that have also quivered to the sound of artillery fire saluting a mighty nation newborn.

Nothing that a city can feel or suffer or delight in has escaped Washington Square.

Everything of valour and tragedy and gallantry and high hope--that go to making a great town as much and more than its bricks and mortar--are in that nine and three-quarters acres that make up the very heart and soul of New York.
The lovely Arch first designed by Stanford White and erected by William Rhinelander Stewart's public-spirited efforts, on April 30, 1889, was in honour of the centennial anniversary of Washington's inauguration; it was so beautiful that, happily, it was later made permanent in marble, and in all the town there could have been found no more fitting place for it.
In every really great city there is one place which is, in a sense, sacred from the profanation of too utilitarian progress.