but the objects which they solicited were not obtained. Under these circumstances, anonymous addresses were circulated in the army, which produced the most violent excitement. Every indication was given of a storm that would destroy the peace of the country, and its new liberties. A paper had been privately handed about, calling a meeting of the officers on the next day. It was an occasion that demanded all the wisdom and influence of Washington. He accordingly noticed the anonymous summons in general orders, and requested a meeting, nominally for the same purpose, four days later. In the mean time, sending for the officers one after another, he enlarged upon the fatal consequences that would result from the adoption of any violent measures. His unwearied efforts were used to quiet the agitation. When the officers assembled, Washington arose to address them. Finding his eyesight fail him, he observed-" My eyes have grown dim in my country's service, but I never doubted of its justice." He then delivered a very interesting and feeling address. After commenting fully upon the anonymous papers that had been circulated in the camp, he entreated the officers to rely on the justice and good faith of Congress. "Let me request you," he observed, "to rely on the plighted faith of your country, and place a full confidence in the purity of the intentions of Congress, that, previous to your dissolution as an army, they will cause all your accounts to be fairly liquidated, as directed in the resolutions which were published to you two days ago; and that they will adopt the most effectual measures in their power to render ample justice to you for your faithful and meritorious services. And let me conjure you in the name of our common country, as you value your own sacred honor, as you respect the rights of humanity, and as you regard the military and national character of America, to express your utmost horror and detestation of the man who wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country, and who wickedly attempts to open the floods of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire in blood. By thus determining and thus acting, you will pursue the plain and direct road to the attainment of your wishes; you will defeat the insidious designs of our enemies, who are compelled to resort from open force to secret artifice. You will give one more distinguished proof of unexampled patriotism and patient virtue, rising superior to the pressure of the most complicated sufferings; and you will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford occasion for posterity to say, when speaking of the glorious example you have exhibited to mankind,- Had this day been wanting, the world had never seen the last stage of perfection to which human nature is capable of attaining.""

Having finished his eloquent and powerful address, his Excellency withdrew, and the convention unanimously resolved to present him their thanks, and assure him "that the officers reciprocate his affectionate expressions with the greatest sincerity of which the human heart is capable." General Knox, Colonel Brooks, and Captain Howard were then appointed a committee, to prepare resolutions expressive of the business of the convention, and to report in half an hour. These resolutions professed an undiminished attachment to the liberties of their country, and an unshaken confidence in the justice of Congress. The

result of these proceedings was communicated, by the commander-inchief, to Congress, accompanied by an impressive letter. "If the whole army," he observes in the course of it, "have not merited whatever a grateful people can bestow, then have I been beguiled by prejudice, and built opinion on the basis of error. If this country should not in the event perform every thing which has been requested in the late memorials to Congress, then will my belief become vain, and the hope that has been excited, void of foundation. But I am under no such apprehension. A country rescued by their arms from impending ruin, will never leave unpaid the debt of gratitude." Congress at length came to resolutions, in which they expressed a desire to gratify the reasonable expectations of the officers of the army, and remove all objections which might exist in any part of the United States to the principles of the half pay, which had been pledged to them. They commuted the half pay for life to full pay for the space of five years, at the option of the parties interested.

The commander-in-chief thus addressed the army on the cessation of hostilities, in April: "The commander-in-chief orders the cessation of hostilities, between the United States of America and the king of Great Britain, to be publicly proclaimed to-morrow at twelve o'clock, at the New Building; and that the proclamation which will be communicated herewith be read to-morrow evening, at the head of every regiment and corps of the army; after which, the chaplains, with the several brigades, will render thanks to Almighty God for all his mercies, particularly for his overruling the wrath of man to his own glory, and causing the rage of war to cease among the nations."

The reduction of the army had been resolved by Congress, but it was a difficult measure, and required deliberation. To avoid the inconvenience of dismissing a great number of soldiers in a body, furloughs were freely granted on the application of individuals, and, after their dispersion, they were not enjoined to return. In this manner a great part of an unpaid army was dispersed over the states, without tumult or disorder.

While the troops under the immediate command of Washington manifested the utmost good conduct, a mutiny broke out among some new levies stationed at Lancaster, in Pennsylvania. About eighty soldiers, in defiance of their officers, marched to Philadelphia, to seek a redress of their alleged grievances from the executive council of the state. They proceeded to the barracks in the city, where some other soldiers were quartered, who joined them. The whole body amounted to about three hundred. On the following day, the insurgents, with drums beating and fixed bayonets, marched to the State-house, the seat of Congress and of the supreme executive council of Pennsylvania. They placed sentinels at every door, sent in a written message to the president and council, and threatened to break in upon them, if their demands were not granted within twenty minutes. No further insult was offered to Congress, but they were confined in this manner for about three hours. Congress resolved that the authority of the United States had been grossly insulted by the armed soldiers, and it was determined that a committee of their body should confer with the executive council, and if it should appear to

the committee, that the state of Pennsylvania ought not to take measures to support the dignity of the federal government, the president should summon the Congress to meet on Thursday, the twenty-sixth, at Princeton or Trenton. The Secretary of War was also directed to communicate to the commander-in-chief the state and disposition of the mutineers.

On receiving information of this disgraceful outrage, Washington immediately despatched Major General Howe, with fifteen hundred men, to quell the mutineers, and punish the most guilty of them. Before his arrival, however, they had dispersed without bloodshed. Several were brought to trial, two were condemned to death, and four others to receive corporal punishment.

On this occasion, General Washington addressed the president of Congress in very feeling and eloquent language:

"While I suffer the most poignant distress in observing that a handful of men, contemptible in numbers, and equally so in point of service, if the veteran troops from the southward have not been seduced by their example, and who are not worthy to be called soldiers, should disgrace themselves and their country, as the Pennsylvania mutineers have done, by insulting the sovereign authority of the United States and that of their own; I feel an inexpressible satisfaction, that even this behavior cannot stain the name of the American soldiery. It cannot be imputable to, or reflect dishonor on, the army at large, but, on the contrary, it will, by the striking contrast it exhibits, hold up to public view the other troops in the most advantageous point of light. On taking all the circumstances into consideration, I cannot sufficiently express my surprise and indignation at the arrogance, the folly, and the wickedness of the mutineers; nor can I sufficiently admire the fidelity, the bravery and patriotism which must forever signalize the unsullied character of the other corps of our army. For when we consider that these Pennsylvania levies, who have now mutinied, are recruits, and soldiers of a day, who have not borne the heat and burden of war, and who can have in reality very few hardships to complain of; and when we at the same time recollect that those soldiers, who have lately been furloughed from this army, are the veterans who have patiently endured hunger, nakedness, and cold; who have suffered and bled without a murmur, and who, with perfect good order, have retired to their homes, without a settlement of their accounts, or a farthing of money in their pockets,-we shall be as much astonished at the virtues of the latter, as we are struck with horror and detestation at the proceedings of the former."

On the second of November, 1783, General Washington issued his farewell orders to the armies of the United States. After noticing a recent proclamation of Congress, he observed that it only remained to address himself for the last time to the armies of the United States, and to bid them an affectionate farewell. He remarked upon the circumstances under which the war was begun; the signal interpositions of Providence in their behalf; and their unparalleled perseverance through eight years of every possible suffering and discouragement. His closing words were "Your general being now to conclude these his last public orders, to take his ultimate leave, in a short time, of the military charac

ter, and to bid adieu to the armies he has so long had the honor to command, he can only again offer in their behalf his recommendations to their grateful country, and his prayers to the God of armies. May ample justice be done to them here, and may the choicest of Heaven's favors, both here and hereafter, attend those, who, under the divine auspices, have secured innumerable blessings for others! With these wishes, and this benediction, the commander-in-chief is about to retire from service. The curtain of separation will soon be drawn, and the military scene, to him, will be closed forever."

The treaty of peace was signed on the twenty-third of September, and a proclamation was issued by Congress to disband the army. Painful indeed, was the parting. The old soldiers, who had been sharers for seven years in privation and suffering, were to separate under circumstances of the most distressing character. They were poor, without money or employment, and many with no other prospect than that of painful dependence or miserable penury. Though their whole military life had been a scene of want and wretchedness, it had sometimes been chequered with splendid triumphs, or at any rate had been throughout supported by an anxious excitement. That excitement was now past, for the object of their labors and sacrifices, the liberty of their common country, had been obtained. The glorious hope, that gleamed continually before their eyes in the battles of the revolution, had been changed into a glorious certainty, by the declaration of peace and now that the wrongs and sufferings of their country had been vindicated, their thoughts were naturally concentrated upon their individual fortunes.

There were sorrow and suffering, want and wretchedness, but no tumult, no mutiny, no disorder. They would not end a succession of generous sacrifices by a violation of their faith and their duty; but determined to abandon their rights, rather than resort to force to recover them.

The British army evacuated New-York in November, and the American troops, under General Knox, took possession of the city. Soon after, General Washington and Governor Clinton, with their suite, made their public entry into the city on horseback, followed by a procession of civil and military officers, and a large number of citizens. General festivity reigned throughout the city, and the governor made a public dinner. This was followed, a day or two afterwards, by an elegant entertainment, given by the governor to the French ambassador, the Chevalier de la Luzerne. General Washington, the principal officers of New-York state, and of the army, and upwards of a hundred other gentlemen, were present.

On Tuesday noon, the fourth of December, the principal officers of the army assembled at Francis's tavern, to take a final leave of their beloved commander-in-chief. When Washington entered the room, his emotions were too strong to be repressed or concealed. Filling a glass, he turned to the surrounding officers and said—" With a heart full of love and gratitude, I now take leave of you. I most devoutly wish that your latter days may be as prosperous and happy as your former ones have been glorious and honorable." Having drank, he added, "I cannot come

to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged to you, if each of you will come and take me by the hand." General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Washington, in tears, grasped his hand, embraced and kissed him. In the same manner he took leave of each succeeding officer, Lincoln, and Greene, and La Fayette, and the other valiant men with whom he had been connected in hours of peril and darkness, to be rewarded with endless gratitude and glory.

Every eye was moistened with tears. Not a word was spoken to interrupt the silent solemnity of the parting. Leaving the room, Washington passed through the corps of light infantry, and walked to Whitehall, where a coach was in waiting to receive him. The whole company followed in mute procession, with sad and dejected countenances. On

entering the barge, he turned to his companions, and, waving his hat, bade them a silent farewell. They paid him a similar mark of respect and affection, and, when they could no longer distinguish in the barge the person of their beloved commander, returned, in the same solemn manner, to the place where they had first assembled.

On the disbanding of the army, Washington proceeded to Annapolis, then the seat of Congress, to resign his commission. On his way thither, he delivered to the comptroller of accounts, at Philadelphia, an account of his receipts and expenditures of public money. The whole amount that had passed through his hands, was only £14,479 18s. 9d. sterling. Nothing was charged or retained for his own services. The resignation of his command was made in a public audience. Congress received him as the guardian of his country and her liberties. He appeared there under the most affecting circumstances. The battles of a glorious war had been fought, since he first appeared before them to accept, with a becoming modesty, the command of their armies. Now the eyes of a whole nation were upon him, and the voices of a liberated people proclaimed him their preserver.