wishes, under any specious pretences, to overturn the liberties of our country, or who wickedly attempts to open the floodgates of civil discord, and deluge our rising empire with 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 practical virtue, rising superior to the most complicated sufferings, and will, by the dignity of your conduct, afford another occasion for posterity to say, in 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 which human nature is capable of attaining.""

Having retired from the assembly, the officers immediately acted on his advice. They passed resolutions thanking the commander-inchief for the course he had pursued, and expressive of their continued attachment; they declared their unshaken reliance on the good faith of congress and their country, and a determination to bear, with patience, their grievances, until in due time they should be redressed. Thus, by the prudent measures of General Washington, was this threatening excitement allayed, and by his faithful and zealous representations to congress the subject was again

considered, and the provisions solicited by the officers obtained.

In a few days after this event the grateful intelligence arrived that a preliminary treaty of peace had been signed at Paris. The news was first brought in a French vessel, and was shortly afterward communicated officially, by Sir Guy Carleton, and on the nineteenth of April, 1783, precisely eight years from the day on which the first blood was shed at Lexington, a proclamation was issued formally announcing a cessation of hostilities.

From this time the officers and soldiers began to retire from the camp on furlough, and on the eighteenth of October congress issued a proclamation discharging them from farther service, together with all such as had enlisted for the entire term of the war. The troops were thus, in effect, disbanded, with the exception of a small force who had entered the service for a limited time. On the occurrence of this event, General Washington issued his farewell address to the army, a performance as admirable in its spirit as it was equitable in its principles.

At length Sir Guy Carleton received orders to evacuate New-York, which was done on the twenty-fifth day of November, and Washington, having descended the river, entered it on the same day, attended by a small force of military, and accompanied by the governor, lieutenantgovernor, council, and a large retinue of civil officers and citizens. The enemy having thus left the country, General Washington resolved

to take his leave of the army, and surrender up to congress all the power with which he had been vested. He accordingly met his officers for the last time, as their general, on the fourth of December, and the interview was of the most solemn and affecting character. "His emotions were too strong to be concealed. Filling a glass, he turned to them 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 honourable.' Having drunk, he added, 'I cannot come to each of you to take my leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will come and take me by the hand.' General Knox, being nearest, turned to him. Washington, incapable of utterance, grasped his hand, and embraced him. In the same affectionate manner he took leave of each succeeding officer. The tear of manly sensibility was in every eye; and not a word was articulated to interrupt the dignified silence and the tenderness of the scene. Leaving the room, he passed through the corps of light infantry, and walked to Whitehall, where a barge waited to convey him to Paulus Hook. The whole company followed in mute and solemn procession, with dejected countenances, testifying feelings of delicious melancholy, which no language can describe. Having entered the barge, he turned to the company, and, waiving his hat, bid them a silent adieu."*

* Marshall.

Congress was sitting at Annapolis, in Maryland, whither the commander-in-chief immediately repaired, greeted as he passed through the different towns and villages with every demonstration of regard and respect. On the twentythird of December he was introduced into the hall of congress before a full delegation of that body, and a large concourse of spectators, and surrendered his commission. At the close of his address, he observed :-" Having now finished the work assigned me, I retire from the great theatre of action; and bidding an affectionate farewell to this august body under whose orders I have so long acted, I here offer my commission, and take leave of all the employments of public life." The president made an appropriate reply to his address, when Washington retired from the assembly divested of all his power, and sustaining no other rank than that of a private citizen.

On the following morning he left Annapolis for his favourite retirement at Mount Vernon, where he arrived on the same day, having been absent, in charge of the army, nearly nine years, during which time he had visited his home only accidentally while on his way with Count Rochambeau to and from Yorktown, at the capture of Cornwallis.

CHAPTER XVII.

Washington retires to private life-His friends desirous to have congress reward him for his services-His satisfaction at being divested of his public duties-Attention to agriculture-Visiters-Visit from Lafayette-Travels through the western part of Virginia-Efforts in favour of education -Increased attention to agriculture-Interruptions from visiters-Houdon's statue of Washington.

FOR many years Washington had been, as it were, the heart of the nation. From him had issued the movements which had controlled its destinies; through him had throbbed the pulsations by which it had been agitated. He had lived in a scene of perpetual excitement, anxiety, and care; had possessed power almost unlimited, and was accustomed to the most profound respect, and the most unceasing attentions. But having piloted his country through the long and angry storm, we behold him relinquishing the helm, and, without a single regret, returning to the hands of the people the power with which they had invested him, and retiring to his acres a private citizen, with the firm belief that his career as a public man was for ever at an end.

The happiness of the good man does not depend on the power which he wields, or the respect which he commands; it is the inmate of his bosom, and thrives as well in the retirement of a cottage as in the splendour of a palace. However much, then, Washington might have been gratified with the honours bestowed on him by his country, or the applause of the world, he felt that his cares and anxieties greatly overbalanced