THE LIFE 
 
 
 
 . GEORGE WASHINGTON; 
 
 WITH 
 
 CURIOUS ANECDOTES, 
 
 EQUALLY HONOURABLE TO HIMSELF, 
 
 AND 
 EXEMPLARY TO HIS YftTTHG COUNTftYMEN. 
 
 A life how useful to his country led J 
 How loved ! while living ! how revered! now dead 1 
 Lisp I lisp ! 1m name, ye children yet unborn ! 
 And with like deeds your own great names adorn. 
 
 EMBELLISHED WITH SIX ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 BY M. L. WEEMS, 
 
 FORMERLr RECTOR OF MOUNT VERN02f PARISH. 
 
 The Author has treated this great subject with admirable, 
 success in a new way. He turns all the actions of Washing-. 
 ton, to the encouragement of virtue, by a careful application of 
 numerous exemplifications drawn from the conduct of the 
 founder of our republic from his earliest life.* 
 
 //. Lee, Major- Central, Ariraj U. S. 
 
 PHIL.1JJELPHM : 
 
 PUBLISHED BY JOSEPH ALLEN, 
 AND SOLD BY GRIGG & ELLIOT, 
 
 No. 9, North Fourth Street. 
 
 1833. 
 
Dittrict of Pennsylvania, te vrit : 
 
 BE IT REMEMBERED, That on the twenty-fourth 
 day ot September, in the forty-ninth year of the Indepen- 
 
 Aq_ ft dcrice of the United States of America, A. D. 1824. H, C. 
 *"% Carey & I. Lea, of the said district, have deposited in this 
 y^vjp.v office the title of a hook, the right whereof they claim as 
 proprietors, in the words following, to wit : 
 
 " TKe l>e of Ge^e. Washington, with curious anecdotes, equaUf 
 honourable to himself, and "exemplary to his young countrymen. 
 
 A- life fteVu^fuftto hisjcountry ted ! 
 
 tfow loved ! while living how revered ! now dead ! 
 Lisp ! lisp ! his name, ye children yet unborn ! 
 And with like deeds your own great names adorn ! 
 
 Twenty-seventh edition greatly improved By M. L. Weenn, 
 formerly rector of Mount Vernon parish." 
 
 In conformity to the act of the Congress of the United States, en 
 titled, " An act for the encouragement of learning, by securing the 
 eopies of Maps, Charts, and Books, to the authors and proprietors of 
 such copies during the times therein mentioned :" and also to the act, 
 entitled, " An act supplementary to an act entitled, * An act for 
 the encouragement of learning, by securing the copies of Maps, Charts, 
 nd Books, to the authors and proprietors of such copies during the 
 times therein mentioned, and extending the benefits thereof to the 
 arts of designing, engraving, and etching historical and other prints. * 
 
 D. CALDWELL, 
 
 Clerk of the District of Pennsylvania. 
 
 N. B. The above Copy-Right has been purchased oy Joseph 
 Allen, and is regulator transferred to him. 
 
THE LIFE 
 
 OF 
 
 WASHINGTON 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 OH ! as along the stream of time thy name 
 Expanded flies, and gathers ail its fame ; 
 May then these lines to future days descend, 
 And prove thy COUNTRY S good thine only end / 
 
 u AH, gentlemen / exclaimed Bonaparte twas 
 just as he was about to embark for Eg} pt some 
 young Americans happening at Toulon, and anxious 
 to see the mighty Corsican, had obtained the honour 
 of an introduction to him. Scarcely were past the 
 customary salutations, when he eagerly asked, " how 
 fares your countryman, the great Washington ^ " He 
 was very well," replied the youths, brightening at the 
 thought, that they were the countrymen of Washing 
 ton ; " he was very well, general, when we left Ame 
 rica." " Ah, gentlemen /" rejoined he, " Washington 
 can never be otherwise than -well. The measure of 
 his fame is full. Posterity ^vill talk of him "with re- 
 verence as the founder of a great empire, when my 
 name shall be lost in the vortex of Revolutions /" 
 
 Who, then, that has a spark of virtuous curiosity, 
 but must wish to know the history of him whose 
 name could thus awaken the sigh even of Bonaparte ? 
 But is not his history already known ? Have not a 
 
 A2 337729 
 
4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 thousand orators spread his fame abroad, bright as 
 his own Potomac, when he reflects the morning sun, 
 and flames like a sea of liquid gold, the wonder and 
 delight of all the neighbouring shores ? Yes, they 
 have indeed spread his fame abroad. ...his fame as 
 Generalissimo of the armies, and first President of 
 the councils of his nation. But this is not half his 
 fame... .True, he has been seen in greatness ,- but it is 
 only the greatness of public character, which is no 
 evidence of trtte greatness ; fora public character is 
 often an artificial one. At the head of an army or 
 nation, where gold and glory are at stake, and where 
 a man feels himself the burning focus of unnum 
 bered eyes ; he must be a paltry fellow, indeed, who 
 does not play his part pretty handsomely... .even the 
 common passions of pride, avarice, or ambition, will 
 put him up to his mettle, and call forth his best and 
 bravest doings. But let this heat and blaze of pub 
 lic situation and incitement be withdrawn ; let him 
 be thrust back into the shade of private life ; and you 
 shall see how soon, like a forced plant robbed of its 
 hot-bed, he will drop his false foliage and fruit, and 
 stand forth confessed in native stickweed sterility 
 and worthlessness. There was Benedict Arnold- 
 while strutting a BRIGADIER GENERAL on the pub* 
 lie stage, he could play you $\Q great man, on a hand 
 some scale he out-marched Hannibal, and out 
 fought Burgoyne he chased the British like cur 
 lews, or cooped them up like chickens ! and yet in 
 the private walks of life, in Philadelphia, he could 
 swindle rum from the commissary s stores, and, with 
 ;he aid of loose women, retail it by the gill ! I 
 And there was the great duke of Marlborough too 
 his public character, a thunderbolt in war! Bri 
 tain s boast, and the terror of the French.! But his 
 private character, what ? Why a swindler to whom 
 Arnold s self could hold a candle ; a perfect nonde 
 script of baseness ; a shaver of farthings from the 
 joor sixpenny pay ot his own brave soldiers 11 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 5 
 
 IT Is not, then, in the glare of public, but in the 
 shade of private life, that we are to look for the 
 man. Private life is always real life. Behind the 
 curtain, where the eyes of the million are not upon 
 him, and where a man can have no motive but incli 
 nation, no incitement but honest nature, there he 
 will always be sure to act himself: consequently, if 
 he act greatly, he must be great indeed* Hence it 
 has been justly said, that, ct our private deeds, it no* 
 ble, are noblest of our lives." 
 
 OF these private deeds of Washington very little 
 has been said* In most of the elegant orations pro 
 nounced to his praise, you see nothing of Washing> 
 ton below the clouds nothing of Washington the 
 dutiful son**- the affectionate brother -the cheerful 
 school-br y the diligent surveyor the neat draftS" 
 man the laborious farmer the widow s husband 
 the orphan s father -the poor man^s friend. No ! 
 this is not the Washington you see ; tis only Wash* 
 ington, the HERO, and the Demigod Washington 
 the sun beam in council, or the storm in war. 
 
 AND in all the ensigns of character amidst which 
 he is generally drawn, you see none that represent 
 him what he really was, a the Jupiter Conservator" 
 the friend and benefactor of men. Where s his bright 
 ploughshare thajt he loved or his wheat-crowned 
 fields, waving in yellow ridges before the wanton 
 breeze or his hills whitened over with flocks or 
 his clover covered pastures spread with innu-merous 
 herds ^or his neat-clad servants with songs rolling 
 the heavy harvest before them? Such were the scenes^ 
 of peace, plenty, and happiness,m which Washington 
 delighted. But his eulogists have denied him these, 
 the only scenes which belong to man the GREAT; 
 and have trick d Aim up in ate yile drapery of man 
 the little. ^See! there he stands! with Cite pa?*s/- ; 
 Mars- the destroyer" dark frowning over the fields 
 o/waf the lightning of Potter s blade is by his sidc.^ 
 *-the deep-mouthed cannon is before him, disgorg- * 
 ing men with mangling ballshis war-horse oants 
 
6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 with impatience to bear him, a speedy thunderbolt, 
 against the pale and bleeding ranks of Britain I 
 These are the drawings usually given of Washing 
 ton; drawings masterly no doubt, and perhaps justly 
 descriptive of him in some scenes of his life. But 
 scenes they were, which I am sure his soul abhorred, 
 and in which, at any rate, you see nothing of his pri 
 vate virtue?* These old fashioned commodities are 
 generally thrown into the back ground of the pic 
 ture j and treated, as the grandees at the London and 
 Paris routs, treat their good old aunts and grandmo 
 thers, huddling them together into the back rooms, 
 there to wheeze and cough by themselves, and not 
 depress the fine laudanum-raised spirits of the young 
 sparklers. And yet it was to those old fashioned vir 
 tues that our hero owed every thing. F< r they in 
 fact were the food of the great aotions of him, whom 
 men call Washington. It was they that enabled him, 
 first to triumph over himselj ; then over the B itish ; 
 and uniformly to set such bright examples of human 
 Perfectibility and true greatness, that,comparecl there 
 with, the history of his capturing Cornwallis and 
 Tarleton, with their buccaneering legions, sounds al 
 most as small as the story of General Putnam s 
 catching his wolf and her lamb-killing whelps. 
 
 SINCE then it is the private virtues that lay the 
 foundation of all human excellence since it was 
 these that exalted Washington to be " Columbia s 
 first and greatest Son" be it our first care to present 
 
 i hese, in all their lustre, before the admiring eyes 
 or our children. To them his private character is 
 every thing , his public, hardly any thing. For how 
 glorious soever it may have been in Washington to 
 
 . have undertaken the emancipation of his country ; 
 to have stemmed AV/t\ong tide oi adversity ; to have 
 
 b>rt9kt/itvery effort of a wealthy and warhVe nation ; 
 
 , to have obtained for his countrymen the coi. Dletest 
 
 ,* victory, and for himself the most unbounded power ; 
 
 [ and then to have returned that power, accompanied 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 weight of his own great character anc 1 
 iblish a government that should immor- 
 
 with all the 
 advice to establisl 
 
 talize the blessings ofliberty however glorious, I 
 say, all this may have been to himself, or instructive 
 to future generals and presidents, yet does it but 
 little concern our children. For who among us can 
 nope that his son shall ever be called, like Washing 
 ton, to direct the storni of war, or to ravish the ears 
 of deeply listening Senates? To be constantly placing 
 him then, before our children, in this high charac 
 ter, what is it but like springing in the clouds a gold 
 en Phoenix, which no mortal calibre can ever hope 
 to reach ? Or like setting pictures of the Mammoth 
 before the mice whom " not all the manna of Heaven" 
 can ever raise to equality ? Oh no ! give us his/>rz- 
 vate virtues/ In these, every youth is interested, be 
 cause in these every youth may become a Washing 
 ton a Washington in piety and patriotism, in in 
 dustry and honour and consequently a Washington, 
 in what alone deserves the name, SELF ESTEEM and 
 
 UNIVERSAL RESPECT. 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 BIRTH AND EDUCATION. 
 
 ** Children like tender osiers take the bow ; 
 
 " And as they first are formed, forever grow" 
 
 TO this day numbers of good Christians car. 
 hardly find faith to believe that Washington was, 
 bona fide, a Virginian / " What ! a buckskin ! sa} 
 they with a smile. " George Washington a buckskin, 
 pshaw ! impossible ! he was certainly an European 
 So great a man could nevt have been born in Ame 
 rica" 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ^ So great a man could never have been born in Ame 
 rica /Why that s the very prince of reasons why 
 he sfioufci hsvt been born here ! Nature, we know, 
 is fond of harmonies and pariaparibus* ths* .\s, great 
 things t? great, is the rule siVe delights to work by. 
 Where, for example, do we look for the whale, " the 
 biggest born of nature ?" not, I trow, in a mill-pond, 
 but in the main ocean. " There go the great ships:" 
 and there are the spoutings of whales amidst their 
 boiling foam. 
 
 BY the same rule, where shall we look for Wash 
 ington, the greatest among men, but in America 
 that greatest Continent, which, rising from beneath 
 the frozen pole, stretches far and wide to the south, 
 running almost u the whole length of this vast ter 
 rene" and sustaining on her ample sides the roaring 
 shock of half the watery globe ? And equal to its size 
 is the furniture of this vast continent, where the Al 
 mighty has reared his cloud-capt mountains, and 
 spread his sea-like lakes, and poured his mighty ri 
 vers, and hurled down his thundering cataracts in a 
 style of the sublime, so far superior to any thing of 
 the kind in the other continents^ that we may fairly 
 conclude that great men and great deeds are de 
 signed for America. 
 
 THIS seems to, be the verdict of honest analogy ; 
 and accordingly we find America the honoured cra 
 dle of Washington, who was born on Pope s creek 
 in Westmoreland county, Virginia, the 22d of Feb 
 ruary, 1732. His father, whose name was Augustin 
 Washington, was also a Virginian : but his grand 
 father (John) was an Englishman, who came over 
 and settled in Virginia in 1657. 
 
 His lather, fully persuaded that a marriage of 
 virtuous love comes nearest to angelic life, early 
 stepped up to the altar with glowing cheeks and joy 
 sparkling eyes, while by his side with soft warm 
 hand, sweetly trembling in his, stood the angt>l-forni 
 of the lovely Miss Dandridge. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 9 
 
 AFTER several years of great domestic happiness, 
 Mr. Washington was separated by death from this 
 excellent woman, who left him and two children to 
 lament her early fate. 
 
 FULLY persuaded still, that " if. is not good for 
 man to be alone" he renewed, for the second time, 
 the chaste delights of matrimonial love. His con 
 sort was Miss Mary Ball, a young lady of fortune, 
 and descended from one of the best families in Vir 
 ginia. 
 
 FROM his intermarriage with this charming girl, 
 it would appear that our hero s father must have pos 
 sessed either a very pleasing person, or highly 
 polished manners, or perhaps both; for, from what 
 I can learn, he was at that time at least 4O years old ! 
 while she, on the other hand, was universally toast 
 ed as the belle of the Northern Neck, and in the 
 full bloom and freshness of love-inspiring sixteen. 
 This I have from one who tells me that he has car 
 ried down many a sett dance with her ; I mean that 
 amiable and pleasant old gentleman, John Fitzhugh, 
 Esq. of Stafford, who was, all his life, a neighbour 
 and intimate of the Washington family. By his first 
 wife, Mr. Washington had two children, both sons 
 Lawrence and Augustin. By his second wife, he 
 had five children, four sons and a daughter George, 
 Samuel, John, Charles, and Elizabeth. Those over 
 delicate folk, who are ready to faint at thought of a 
 second marriage, might do well to remember, that 
 the greatest man that ever lived was the son of this 
 second marriage. 
 
 LITTLE George had scarcely attained his fifth 
 year, when his father left Pope s creek, and came 
 up to a plantation which he had in Stafford, opposite 
 to Fredericksburg. The house in which he lived is 
 still to be seen. It lifts its low and modest front of fa 
 ded red, over the turbid waters of Rappahannock ; 
 whither, to this day, numbers of people repair, and, 
 with emotions unutterable, looking at the weather- 
 
10 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 beaten mansion, exclaim, " Here s the house where 
 the great V/ashington was born /" 
 
 BUT it is all a mistake ; for he was born, as I said 
 at Pope s creek, in Westmoreland county, near th 
 margin of his own roaring Potomac. , 
 
 THE first place of education to which George was 
 ever sent, was a little " oldfeld school" kept by one 
 of his father s tenants, named Hobby; an honest,poor 
 old man, who acted in the double character of sexton 
 and schoolmaster. On his skill as a grave-digger, 
 tradition is silent ; but for a teacher of youth, his 
 qualifications were certainly of the humbler sort; ma 
 king what is generally called an A. B. C. schoolmas 
 ter. Such was the preceptor who first taught Wash 
 ington the knowledge of letters ! Hobby lived to see 
 his young pupil in ail his glory, and rejoiced ex 
 ceedingly. In his cups for though a sexton, he 
 would sometimes drink, particularly on the Gene 
 ral s birth days he used to boast that " twas he, 
 who, bet-ween his knees, had laid the foundation of 
 George Washington s greatness" 
 
 BUT though George was early sent to a school 
 master, yet he was not on that account neglected by 
 his father. Deeply sensible of the loveliness and 
 worth of which human nature is capable, through 
 the virtues and graces early implanted in the heart, 
 he never for a moment, lost sight of George in those 
 all-important respects. 
 
 To assist his son to overcome that selfish spirit, 
 which too often leads children to fret and fight about 
 trifles, was a notable care of Mr. Washington. For 
 this purpose, of all the presents, such as cakes, fruit, 
 &c. he received, he was always desired to give a li 
 beral part to his play-mates. To enable him to do 
 this with more alacrity, his father would remind him 
 of the love which he would thereby gain, and the 
 frequent presents which would in return be made to 
 him ; and also would tell of that great and good God, 
 who delights above all things to see children love one 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. H 
 
 another, and will assuredly reward them for acting 
 So amiable a part. 
 
 SOME idea of Mr. Washington s plan* of education 
 in this respect may be collected from the following 
 anecdote, related to me twenty years ago by an aged 
 lady, who was a distant relative, and, when a girl, 
 spent much of her time in the family : 
 
 " ON a fine morning," said she, u in the fall of 1737% 
 Mr. Washington having little George by the hand, 
 
 I came to the door and asked my cousin Washington 
 and myself to walk with him to the orchard, promising 
 he would show us a fine sight. On arriving at the 
 orchard, we were presented with a fine sight indeed, 
 The whole earth, as far as we could see, was strewed 
 with fruit t and yet the trees were bending under the 
 weight of apples, which hung in clusters like grapes, 
 and vainly strove to hide their blushing cheeks behind 
 the green leaves. Now, George, said his father, look 
 here, my son ! don t you remember when this good 
 cousin of yours brought you that fine large apple last 
 
 . spring, how hardly I could prevail on you to divide 
 with your brothers and sisters; though I promised you 
 that if you would but doit, God Almighty would give 
 you plenty of apples this fall. Poor George could not 
 say a word; but hanging down his head, looked quite 
 confused, while with his little naked toes he scratched 
 in the soft ground. Now look up, my son, continued 
 his father, look up, George ! and see there how rich 
 ly the blessed God has made good my promise to you. 
 Wherever you turn your eyes, you see the trees load 
 ed with fine fruit ; many of them indeed breaking 
 down ; while the ground is covered with mellow ap 
 ples, more than you could eat, my son, in all your 
 life time." 
 
 GEORGE looked in silence on the wide wilderness 
 of fruit. He marked the busy humming bees, and 
 heard the gay notes of birds; then lifting his eyes 
 filled with shining moisture, to his father, he softly 
 said, u Well, Pa, only forgive me this tune ; and see 
 if fever be so stingy any more" 
 B 
 
12 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 SOME, When they look up to the oak, whose giant 
 arms throw a darkning shade over distan* acres, or 
 whose single trunk lays the keel of a man of war, 
 cannot bear to hear of the time when this mighty 
 plant was but an acorn, which a pig could have de 
 molished. But others, who know their value, like to 
 learn the soil and situation which best produces such 
 noble trees. Thus, parents that are ivise^ will listen, 
 well pleased, while I relate how moved the steps of 
 the youthful Washington, whose single worth far 
 outweighs all the oaks of Bashan and the red spicy 
 cedars of Lebanon. Yes, they will listen delighted 
 while I tell of their Washington in the days of his 
 youth, when his little feet were swift towards the 
 nests of birds ; or when, wearied in the chase of the 
 butterfly, he laid him down on his grassy couch and 
 slept, while ministering spirits, with their roseate 
 wings, fanned his glowing cheeks, and kissed his 
 lips of innocence with that fervent love which makes 
 the Heaven I 
 
 NEVER did the wise Ulysses take more pains with 
 his beloved Telemachus, than did Mr. Washington 
 #ith George, to inspire him with an early love of 
 truth. " Truth, George," said he u is the loveliest 
 quality of youth. I would ride fifty miles, my son, 
 to see the little boy whose heart is so honest, and his 
 lips so/wr?, that we may depend on every word he 
 says. O how lovely does such a child appear in the 
 eyes of every body! his parents doat on him. His 
 relations glory in him. They are constantly praising 
 him to their children, whom they beg to imitate him. 
 They are often sending for him to visit them ; and 
 receive him, when he comes, with as much joy as if 
 he were a little angel, come to set pretty examples 
 to their children. 
 
 " BUT, Oh ! how different, George, is the case with 
 
 the boy who is so given to lying, that nobody can be- 
 
 ieve a word he says ! He is looked at with aversion 
 
 wherever he goes, and parents dread to see him come 
 
 mong their children. Oh, George ! my son ! rather 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. IB 
 
 than see you come to this pass, dear as you are to my 
 heart, gladly would I assist to nail you up in your 
 little coffin, and follow you to your grave. Hard, 
 indeed, would it be to me to give up my son, whose 
 little feet are always so ready to run about with me, 
 and whose fondly looking eyes, and sweet prattle 
 make so large a part of my happiness. But still I 
 would give him up, rather than see him a common 
 \ lar. 
 
 " Pa," said George very seriously, " do I ever tell 
 lies ?" 
 
 " No, George, I thank God you do not, my son 
 and I rejoice in the hope you never will. At least, 
 you shall never, from me, have cause to be guilty oi 
 so shameful a thing. Many parents, indeed, even 
 compel their children to this vile practice, by bar- 
 barou jly beating them for every little fault : hence, 
 on the next offence, the little terrified creature slips 
 out a lie ! just to escape the rod. But as to your 
 self George, you know I have always told you, and 
 now tell you again, that, whenever by accident, you 
 do any thing wrong, which must often be the case, 
 as you are but a poor little boy yet, without expert^ 
 ence or knowledge, you must never tell a falsehood to 
 conceal it ; but come bravely up, my son, like a little 
 man, and tell me of it: and, instead of beating you, 
 George, I will but the more honour and love you for 
 it, my dear." 
 
 THIS, you ll say, was, sowing good seed ! Yes, it 
 was : and the crop, thank God, was, as I believe it 
 ever will be, where a man acts the true parent, that 
 is, the Guardian Angel, by his child. 
 
 THE following anecdote is a case in point. It is 
 too valuable to be lost, and too true to be doubted ; 
 for it was communicated to me by the same excel 
 lent lady to whom I am indebted for the last. 
 
 " When George," said she, " was about six years 
 old, he was made the wealthy master of a hatchet ! oi 
 which, like most little boys, he was immoderately 
 
14 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 fond ; and was constantly going about chopping every 
 thing that came in his way. One day, in the garden, 
 where he often amused himself hacking his mo 
 ther s pea-sticks, he unluckily tried the edge of his 
 hatchet on the body of a beautiful young English 
 cherry-tree, which he barked so terribly, that I don t 
 believe the tree ever got the better of it. The next 
 morning the old gentleman, finding out what had be 
 fallen his tree, which, by the by, was a great favour 
 ite, came into the house ; and with much warmth 
 asked for the mischievous author, declaring at the 
 same time, that he would not have taken five gui 
 neas for his tree. Nobody could tell him any thing 
 about it. Presently George and his hatchet made 
 their appearance. u George ," said his father, " do you 
 know who killed that beautiful little cherry tree yon 
 der in the garden ?" This was a tough quest ion ; and 
 George staggered under it for a moment ; but quick 
 ly recovered himself: and looking athis father, with 
 the sweet face of youth brightened with the inex 
 pressible charm of all-conquering truth, he bravely 
 cried out, u I can t tell a lie, Pa ; you know I can t 
 tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet." Run to 
 my arms, you dearest boy, cried his father in trans 
 ports, run to my arms ; glad am I, George, that you 
 killed my tree ; for you have jjaid me for it a thousand 
 fold. Such an act of heroism i n my son is more worth 
 than a thousand trees, though blossomed with silver, 
 and their fruits of purest gold." 
 
 IT was in this way by interesting at once both his 
 heart and head, that Mr. Washington conducted 
 George with great ease and pleasure along the hap 
 py paths of virtue. Rut well knowing that his belov 
 ed charge, soon to be a man, would be left exposed 
 to numberless temptations, both from himself and 
 from others, his heart throbbed with the tenderest 
 anxiety to make him acquainted with that GREAT 
 BEING, whom to know and love, is to possess the 
 surest defence against vice, and the hes* of all mo 
 tives to virtue and happiness. To startle George into 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 15 
 
 a lively sense of his Maker, he fell upon the fol 
 lowing very curious, but impressive expedien : 
 
 ONE day he went into the garden, and prepared a 
 little bed of finely pulverized earth, on which he 
 wrote George s name at full, in large letters then 
 strewing in plenty of cabbage seed, he covered them 
 up, and smoothed all over nicely with the roller.- 
 This bed he purposely prepared close along side of 
 a gooseberry walk, which happening at this time to 
 be well hung with ripe fruit, he knew would be ho 
 noured with George s visits pretty regularly ever} 
 day. Not many mornings had passed away before 
 in came George, with eyes wild rolling, and his lit 
 tle cheeks ready to burst with great news. 
 " O PA ! come here ! come here !" 
 " WHAT S the matter, my son ? what s the matter?" 
 " O COME here, I tell you, Pa : come here ! and 
 I ll shew you such a sight as you never saw in all 
 your life time." 
 
 THE old gentleman suspecting what George would 
 be at, gave him his hand, which he seized with great 
 eagerness, and tugging him along through the gar 
 den, led him point blank to the bed whereon was 
 inscribed, in large letters, and in all the freshness of 
 newly sprung plants, the full name of 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON. 
 
 " THERE, Pa ?" said George, quite in an ecstacy 
 of astonishment, " did you ever see such a sight in 
 all your life time ?" 
 
 " WHY it seems like a curious affair, sure enoug 
 George ! 
 
 u BUT, Pa, who did make it there ? who did make 
 it there ?" 
 
 " IT grew there by chance, I suppose, my son. 
 
 " By chance, Pa ! O no ! no ! it never did grow 
 there by chance, Pa. Indeed that it never did !" 
 
 " HIGH ! why not, my son ?" 
 
 " WHY, Pa, did you ever see anybody s name JP a 
 plant bed before ?" 
 B 2 
 
16 LIKE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 u WELL, but George, such a thing might happen, 
 though you never saw it before. 
 
 4fc YES, Pa; but I did never see the little plants 
 grow up so as to make one single letter of my name 
 before. Now, how could they grow up so as to make 
 all the letters of my name ! and then standing one 
 after another, to spell my name so exactly ! and all 
 so neat and even too, at top and bottom ! ! O Pa, you 
 must not say chance did all this. Indeed somebody 
 did it ; and I dare say now, Pa, you did it just to 
 scare me, because 1 am your little boy." 
 
 His father s-miled ; and said, " Well George, you 
 have guessed right. 1 indeed did it ; but not to scare 
 you, my son ; but to learn you a great thing which I 
 wish you to understand. 1 want, my son, to intro 
 duce you to your true Father." 
 
 " HIGH, Pa, an t you my true father, that has 
 loved me, and been so good to me always ?" 
 
 u YES, George, I am your father, as the world calls 
 it : and I love you very dearly too. But yet with 
 all my love for you, George, I am but a poor good- 
 for-nothing sort of a father in comparison of one you 
 have." 
 
 " AYE ! I know, well enough whom you mean, 
 Pa. You mean God Almighty ; don t you ?" 
 
 " YES, my son, I mean him indeed. He is you,r 
 true Father, George." 
 
 " BUT, Pa, where is God Almighty ? I did never 
 9ce him yet." 
 
 " True my son ; but though you never saw him, 
 yet he is always with you. You did not see me when 
 ten days ago I made this little plant bed, where you 
 see your name in such beautiful green letters : but 
 though you did not see me here, yet you know I wat 
 here!!" 
 
 " YES, Pa, that I do. I know you was here." 
 
 " WELL then, and as my son could not believe 
 that chance had made and put together so exactly 
 the letters of his name, (though only sixteen) then 
 how can he believe, that chance could have nude and 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 17 
 
 put together all those millions and millions of things 
 that are now so exactly fitted to his good ! That my 
 son may look at every thing around him, see ! what 
 fine eyes he has got ! and a little pug nose to smell 
 the sweet flowers ! and pretty ears to hear sweet 
 sounds ! and a lovely mouth for his bread and butter ! 
 and O, the little ivory teeth to cut it for him ! and 
 the dear little tongue to prattle with his father ! and 
 precious little hands and fingers to hold his play 
 things I and beautiful little feet for him to run about 
 upon ! and when my little rogue of a son is tired 
 with running about, then the still night comes foi 
 him to lie down : and his mother sings, and the little 
 crickets chirp him to sleep ! and as soon as he has 
 slept enough, and jumps up fresh and strong as a 
 little buck, there the sweet golden light is ready for 
 him ! When he looks down into the water, there he 
 sees the beautiful silver fishes for him ! and up in the 
 trees there are the apples, and peaches, and thousands 
 of sweet fruits for him ! and #//, all around him, 
 wherever my dear boy looks, he sees every thing just 
 to his "wants and -wishes ; the bubbling springs with 
 cool sweet water for him to drink ! and the wood to 
 make him sparkling fires when he is cold ! and beau 
 tiful horses for him to ride ! and strong oxen to work 
 for him ! and the good cow to give him milk ! and 
 bees to make sweet hone for his sweeter mouth ! 
 and the little lambs, with snowy wool, for beautiful 
 clothes for him ! Now, these and all the ten thou 
 sand thousand other good things more than my son 
 can ever think of, and all so exactly fitted to his use 
 and delight Now how could chance ever have done 
 all this for my little son i Oh George ! - 
 
 HE would have gone on : but George, who had 
 hung upon his father s words with looks and eyes of 
 all-devouring attention, here broke out 
 
 "OH, Pa, that s enough ! that s enough ! It can t 
 be chance, indeed it can t be chance, that made and 
 gave me all these things. 
 
18 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 " WHAT was it then, do you think, my son ?" 
 
 " INDEED, Pa, I don t know, unless it was God 
 Almighty !" 
 
 " YES, George, he it was, my son, and nobody 
 else." 
 
 " WELL, but Pa, (continued George) does God 
 Almighty give me every thing ? Don t you give me 
 some things, Pa ?" 
 
 " I GIVE you something indeed ! Oh how can I 
 give you any thing, George ! I who have nothing on 
 earth that I can call my own, no, not even the breath 
 I draw !" 
 
 " HIGH, Pa ! is nt that great big house your 
 house, and this garden, and the horses yonder, and 
 oxen, and sheep, and trees, and every thing, is nt all 
 yours, Pa ?" 
 
 u OH no ! my son ! no ! why you make me shrink 
 into nothing, George, when you talk of all these 
 belonging to me, who can t even make a grain of 
 sand ! Oh, how could I, my son, have given life to 
 those great oxen and horses, when I can t give life 
 even to a fly ? no ! for if the poorest fly were killed, 
 it is not your father, George, nor all the men in the 
 world, that could ever make him alive again !" 
 
 AT this, George fell into a profound silence, while 
 his pensive looks showed that his youthful soul was 
 labouring with some idea never felt before. Per 
 haps it was at that moment, that the good Spirit of 
 God ingrafted on his heart that germ of piety, which 
 filled his after life with so many of the precious fruits 
 of morality. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 19 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 George s father dies his education continued by bis 
 mother his behaviour under school-master Wil 
 liams. 
 
 THUS pleasantly, on wings of down, passed 
 away the few short years of little George s and his 
 father s earthly acquaintance. Sweetly ruled by the 
 sceptre of REASON, George almost adored his father: 
 and thus sweetly obeyed with all the cheerfulness of 
 LOVE, his father doated on George.. ..And though 
 very different in their years, yet parental and filial 
 love rendered them so mutually dear, that the old 
 gentleman was often heard to regret, that the school 
 took his little companion so much from him v/hile 
 George, on the other hand, would often quit his play 
 mates to run home and converse with his more be 
 loved father. 
 
 BUT George was not long to enjoy the pleasure 
 or the profit of such a companion ; for scarcely had 
 he attained his tenth year, before his father was seiz 
 ed with the gout in his stomach, which carried him 
 off in a few days. George was not at home when his 
 father was taken ill. He was on a visit to some of his 
 cousins in Chotank, about twenty miles off: and his 
 father, unwilling to interrupt his pleasures, (for it 
 was but seldom that he visited) would not at first al 
 low him to be sent for. But finding that he was go 
 ing very fast, he begged that they would send for 
 him in all haste. He often asked if he was come ; 
 and said how happy he should be once more to see 
 his little son, and give him his blessing before he 
 died. But alas ! he never enjoyed that last mourn 
 ful pleasure ; for George did not reach home until a 
 few hours before his father s death : and then he was 
 speechless ! The moment he alighted, he ran into 
 the chamber where he lav. But oh what were his 
 
20 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 feelings when he saw the sad change that had pass 
 ed upon him ! when he beheld those eyes, late so 
 bright and fond, now reft of all their lustre, faintly 
 looking on him from their hollow sockets, and 
 through swelling tears, in mute but melting lan 
 guage, bidding him a LAST, LAST FAREWELL ! 
 
 Rushing with sobs and cries, he fell upon his father s 
 neck he kissed him a thousand and a thousand 
 times, and bathed his clay-cold face with scalding 
 tears. ^ 
 
 O HAPPIEST YOUTH ! Happiest in that love, which 
 thus, to its enamoured soul strained an aged, an ex 
 piring sire. O ! worthiest to be the founder of a 
 JUST and EQJJAL GOVERNMENT lasting as thy own 
 deathless name ! And O ! happiest old man ! thus 
 luxuriously expiring in the arms of such a child ! 
 O ! well requited for teaching him that LOVE OF 
 HIS GOD (the only fountain of every virtuous love) 
 in return for which he gave thee ( twas all he had) 
 himself his fondest company his sweetest looks 
 and prattle. He now gives thee his little feeble em 
 braces. With artless sighs and tears, faithful to thee 
 still, his feet will follow thee to thy grave : and 
 when thy beloved corse is let down to the stones of 
 the pit, with streaming eyes he will rush to the 
 brink, to take one more look, while his bursting 
 heart will give thee its last trembling cry O my 
 father ! my father ! 
 
 BUT, though he had lost his best of friends, yet he 
 never lost those divine sentiments which that friend 
 had so carefully inculcated. On the contrary, inter 
 woven with the fibres of his heart, they seemed to 
 " grow with his growth, and to strengthen with his 
 strength." The memory of his father, often bathed 
 with a tear the memory of his father, now sleeping 
 in his grave, was felt to impose a more sacred ob 
 ligation to do whatever he knew would rejoice his 
 departed shade. This was very happily displayed, 
 in every part of his deportment, from the moment 
 of his earliest intercourse with mankind. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 21 
 
 Soon after the death of his father, his mother sent 
 him down to Westmoreland, the place of his nativity, 
 where he lived with his half-brother Augustine, and 
 went to school to a Mr. Williams, an excellent teach 
 er in that neighbourhood. He carried with him his 
 virtues, his zeal for unblemished character, his love of 
 truth, and detestation of whatever was false and base. 
 A gilt chariot with richest robes and liveried servants, 
 could not half so substantially have befriended him ; 
 for in a very short time, so completely had his vir 
 tues secured the love and confidence of the boys, his 
 word was just as current among them as a law. A 
 very aged gentleman, formerly a school mate of his, 
 has often assured me, (while pleasing recollection 
 brightened his furrowed cheeks,) that nothing was 
 more common, when the boys were in high dispute 
 about a question of fact, than for some little shaver 
 among the mimic heroes, to call out, u well boys ! 
 George Washington was there ; George Washington 
 was there. He knows all about it : and if he don t say 
 it was so, then we will give it up." "Done," said the 
 adverse party. Then away they would trot to hunt 
 for George. Soon as his verdict was heard, the par 
 ty favoured would begin to crow, and then all hands 
 would return to play again. 
 
 ABOUT five years after the death of his father, he 
 quitted school for ever, leaving the boys in tears for 
 his departure : for he had ever lived among them, in 
 the spirit of a brother. He was never guilty of so 
 brutish a practice as that of fighting himself; nor 
 would he, when able to prevent it, allow them to 
 fight one another. If he could not disarm their sa 
 vage passions by his arguments, he would instantly 
 go to the master, and inform him of their barbarous 
 intentions. 
 
 " THE boys," said the same good old gentleman, 
 41 were often angry with George for this." But he 
 used to say, " angry or not angry, you shall never, 
 boys, have my consent to a practice so shocking ! 
 shocking even in slaves and dogs ; then how utterly 
 
22 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 scandalous in little boys at school, who ought to look 
 on one another as brothers. And what must be the 
 feelings of our tender parents, when, instead of see 
 ing us come home smiling and lovely, as the JOY OF 
 THEIR HEARTS ! they see us creeping in like young 
 blackguards, with our heads bound up, black eyes, 
 and bloody clothes ! And what is all this for ? Why, 
 that we may get praise ! ! But the truth is, a quarrel 
 some boy was never sincerely praised ! Big boys, of 
 the vulgar sort, indeed may praise him : but it is 
 only as they would a silly game cock, that fights for 
 their pastime : and the little boys are sure to praise 
 him, but it is only as they would a bull dog to keep 
 him from tearing them ! !" 
 
 SOME of his historians have said, and many be 
 lieve, that Washington was a Latin scholar ! But tis 
 an error. He never learned a syllable of Latin. His 
 second and last teacher, Mr. Williams, was indeed 
 a capital hand but not at Latin ; for of that he un 
 derstood perhaps as little as Balaam s ass. But at 
 reading, spelling, English grammar, arithmetic, sur 
 veying, book keeping, and geography, he was indeed 
 famous. And in these useful arts, tis said he often 
 boasted that he had made young George Washington 
 as great a scholar as himself. 
 
 BORN to be a soldier, Washington early discover 
 ed symptoms of liatuTeV Intentions towards him. 
 In his llth year, while at school under old Mr. Hob 
 by, he used to divide his play-mates into two par 
 ties or armies. One of these, for distinction sake, 
 was called French, the other American. A big boy 
 at the school, named William Bustle, commanded 
 the former \ George commanded the latter. And 
 every day, at play-time, with corn-stalks for muskets, 
 and calabashes for drums, the two armies would 
 turn out, and march, and counter-march, and file off 
 or fight their mimic battles, with great fury. This 
 was fine sport for George, whose passion for active 
 exercise was so strong, that at play-time no weather 
 cauld keep him within doors* His fair cousins, who 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 23 
 
 visited at his mother s, used to complain, that 
 " George was not fond of their company, like other 
 boys ; but.soon as he had got his task, would run out 
 to play." But such trifling play as marbles and tops he 
 could never endure. They did not afford him exer 
 cise enough. His delight was in that of the manlies 
 sort, which? by stringing the limbs and swelling the 
 muscles, promotes the kindliest flow of blood and 
 spirits. At jumping with a long pole, or heavh < 
 heavy weights, for his years he hardly had an equal. 
 And as to running, the swift-footed Achilles could 
 scarcely have matched his speed. 
 
 " EGAD ! he ran wonderfully," said my amiable 
 and aged friend, John Fitzhugh, esq. who knew him 
 well. " We had nobody here-abouts, that could come 
 near him. There was a young Langhorn Dade, of 
 Westmoreland, a confounded clean made, tight young 
 fellow, and a mighty swift runner too. But then he was 
 no match for George. Langy, indeed, did not like to 
 give it up ; and would brag that he had sometimes 
 brought George to a tie. But I believe he was mista 
 ken : for I have seen them run together many a time ; 
 and George always beat him easy enough." 
 
 Col. Lewis Willis, his play-mate an-d kinsman, 
 has been heard to say, that he has often seen him 
 throw a stone across Rappahannock, at the lower 
 ferry of Fredericksburg. It would be no easy mat 
 ter to find a man, now a-days, who could do it. 
 
 INDEED his father before him was a man of ex 
 traordinary strength. His gun, which to this day is 
 called Washington s fowling-piece, and is now the pro 
 perty of Mr. Harry Fitzhugh, of Chotank, is of such 
 enormous weight, that not one man in fifty can fire it 
 without a rest. And yet throughout that country it 
 is said, that he made nothing of holding it off at arms- 
 length, and blazing away at the swans on Potomack ; 
 of which he has been known to kill, rank and file, 
 seven or eight at a shot 
 
 BUT to return to George. It appears that from 
 the start he was a boy of an uncommonly warm and 
 C 
 
*4 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 noble heart : insomuch that Lawrence, though but 
 his half-brother, took such a liking to him, even 
 above his own brother Augustine, that he would al 
 ways have George with him when he could; and often 
 pressed him to come and live with him. But, as if led 
 by some secret impulse, George declined the offer, and 
 as we have seen, went to work, in the back woods, as 
 Lord Fairfax s surveyor ! However, when Lawrence 
 was taken with the comsumption, and advised by his 
 physicans to make a trip to Burmuda, George could 
 not resist any longer, but hastened down to his brother 
 at Mount Vernon, and went with him to Burmuda. 
 It was at Burmuda that George took the small-pox, 
 which marked him rather agreeably than otherwise. 
 Lawrence never recovered, but returned to Virginia, 
 where he died just after his brother George had 
 fought his hard battle against the French and In 
 dians, at Fort Necessity, as the reader will pre 
 sently learn. 
 
 LAWRENCE did not live to see George after that; 
 but he lived to hear of his fame ; for as the French 
 and Indians were at that time a great public terror, 
 the people could not help being very loud in their 
 praise of a youth, who, with so slender a force, had 
 dared to meet them in their own country, and had 
 given them such a check. 
 
 AND when Lawrence heard of his favourite young 
 brother, that he had fought so gallantly for his coun 
 try, and that the whole land was filled with his praise, 
 he wept for joy. And such is the victory of love 
 over nature, that though fast sinking under the fever 
 and cough of a consumption in its extreme stage, he 
 did not seem to mind it, but spent his last moments 
 in fondly talking of his brother George, who, he 
 said, " he had always believed, would one day or 
 other be a great man !" 
 
 ON opening his will, it was found that George had 
 lost nothing by his dutiful and affectionate behaviour 
 to his brother Lawrence. For having now no issue, 
 (his only child, a little daughter, lately dying) he left 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 25 
 
 to George all his rich lands in Berkley, together with 
 his great estate on Potomac, called MOUNT VERNOI*, 
 in honour of old Admiral Vernon, by whom he had 
 been treated with great politeness, while a volunteer 
 with him at the unfortunate siege of Carthagena, in 
 
 mi. 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 George leaves school is appointed a private surveyor 
 to Lord Fairfax, cf the Northern Neck wishes to 
 enter on hoard of a British man of war providen 
 tially prevented by his mother the first lightnings 
 of his soul to war. 
 
 HAPPILY for America, George Washington 
 was not born with u a silver spoon in his mouth." 
 The Rappahannock plantation left him by his father, 
 was only in reversion and his mother was still in 
 her prime. Seeing then no chance of ever rising in 
 the world but by his own merit, on leaving school 
 he went up to Fairfax to see his brother Lawrence ; 
 with whom he found Mr. William Fairfax, one of 
 the governor s council, who was come up on a visit 
 to his sister, whom Lawrence had married. The 
 counsellor presently took a great liking to George ; 
 and hearing him express a wish to get employment 
 as a surveyor, introduced him to his relative, lord 
 Fairfax, the wealthy proprietor of all those lands ge 
 nerally called the Northern Neck, lying between the 
 Potomac and Rappahannock, and extending from 
 Smith s Point on the Chesapeake, to the foot of the 
 Great Alleghany. At the instance of the counsellor, 
 Lord Fairfax readily engaged George as 4 a survey- 
 
26 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 or ; and sent him up into the back-woods to work. He 
 continued in his lordship s service till his 20th year, 
 closely pursuing the laborious life of a woodsman. 
 
 FROM the manner in which Washington used to 
 amuse his leisure hours during this period, one is 
 almost inclined to think that he had a presentiment 
 of the great labours that lay before him. While in 
 Frederick, which at that time was very large, con 
 taining the counties now called Berkley, Jefferson, 
 and Shenandoah, he boarded in the house of the wi 
 dow Stevenson, generally pronounced Stinson. This 
 lady had seven sons William and Valentine Craw 
 ford, by her first husband ; and John, and Hugh, 
 and Dick, and Jim, and Mark Stinson, by her last 
 husband. These seven young men, in Herculean 
 size and strength, were equal, perhaps, to any seven 
 sons of any one mother in Christendom. This was 
 a family exactly to George s mind, because promis 
 ing him an abundance of that manly exercise in 
 which he delighted. In front of the house lay a fine 
 extended green, with a square of several hundred 
 yards. Here it was every evening, when his daily 
 toils of surveying were ended, that George, like a 
 young Greek training for the Olympic games, used 
 to turn out with his sturdy young companions, u to 
 see" as they termed it, " -which was the best man* 9 
 at running, jumping, and wrestling. And so keen 
 was their passion for these sports, and so great their 
 ambition to excel each other, that they would often 
 persist, especially on moon-shining nights, till bed 
 time. The Crawfords and Stinsons, though not tall 
 er than George, were much heavier men ; so that at 
 wrestling, and particularly at the close or I .dian hug, 
 he seldom gained much matter of triurr n. But in 
 all trials of agility > they stood no charce with him ! 
 FROM these Frederick county gymnastics or ex 
 ercises, there followed an effect which shews the very 
 wide difference between participating in innocent 
 and guilty pleasures. While companions in raking 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 27 
 
 and gambling, heartily despise and hate one another, 
 and, when they meet in the streets, pass each other 
 with looks as cold and shy as sheep-thieving curs 
 these virtuous young men, by spending their even 
 ings together, in innocent and manly exercises, con 
 tracted a friendship which lasted for life. When 
 George, twenty-five years after this, was called to 
 lead the American armies, he did not forget his old 
 friends, the Stinsons and Crawfords ; but gave com 
 missions to all of them who chose to join his army ; 
 which several of them did. William Crawford, the 
 eldest of them, and as brave a man as ever should 
 ered a musket, was advanced as high as the rank of 
 colonel, when he was burnt to death by the Indians 
 at Sandusky. And equally cordial was the love of 
 these young men towards George, of whom they 
 always spoke as of a brother. Indeed, Hugh Stin- 
 son, the second brother, who had a way of snapping 
 his eyes when he talked of any thing that greatly 
 pleased him, used to brighten up at the name of 
 Washington ; and would tell his friends, that * he and 
 his brother yohn had often laid the conqueror ofEng~ 
 land on his back j" but at the same time, would 
 agree, that, u in running and jumping they were no 
 match for him." 
 
 SUCH was the way in which George spent his 
 leisure hours in the service of Lord Fairfax. Little 
 did the old gentleman expect that he was educating 
 a youth, who should one day dismember the British 
 empire, and break his own heart which truly came 
 to pass. For on hearing that Washington had cap 
 tured Cornwallis and all his army, he called out to 
 his black waiter, ft Come-) Joe ! carry me to my bed 
 for Tm sure 9 tis high time for me to die / * 
 
 Then up rose Joe, all at the word 
 
 And took his master s arm, 
 Ai d to his bed he softly led, 
 
 The lord of Green-way farm 
 
 C 2 
 
28 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 There oft he call d on Britain s name, 
 < c And oft he wept full sore." 
 
 Then sigh d thy will, O Lord be done 
 " And word spake never more." 
 
 IT was in his 15th year, according to the best of 
 my information, that Washington first felt the kind 
 lings of his soul for war. The cause was this In 
 those days the people of Virginia looked on Great 
 Britain as the mother country ; and to go thither was, 
 in common phrase, " to go home" The name of OLD 
 ENGLAND was music in their ears: and the bare men 
 tion of a blow meditated against her, never failed to 
 rouse a something at the heart, which instantly flam 
 ed on the cheek, and flashed in the eye. Washington 
 had his full share of these virtuous feelings : on hear 
 ing, therefore, that France and Spain were mustering 
 a black cloud over his MOTHER COUNTRY, his youth 
 ful blood took fire; and he instantly tendered what 
 aid his little arm could afford. The rank of mid 
 shipman was procured for him on board a British 
 ship of war, then lying in our waters ; and his trunk 
 and clothes were actually sent on board. But when 
 he came to take leave of his mother, she wept bitter 
 ly, and told him, she felt that her heart would break 
 if he left her. George immediately got his trunk 
 ashore ! as he could not, for a Moment, bear the idea 
 of inflicting a wound on that dear life which had so 
 long and so fondly sustained his own. 
 
 WHERE George got his great military talents, is 
 a question which none but the happy believers in a 
 particular Providence can solve : certain it is, his 
 earthly parents had no hand in it. For of his father, 
 radition says nothing, save that he was a most amia 
 ble old gentleman ; one who made good crops, and 
 scorned to give his name to the quill-drivers of a 
 counting-room. And as to his mother, it is well 
 known that she was none of Bellona s fiery race. For 
 as some of the Virginia officers, just afvsr the splendid 
 actions of Trenton and Princeton, were compliment* 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 29 
 
 ing her on the generalship and rising glory of her 
 son, instead of shewing the exultation of a Spartan 
 dame, she replied, with all the sang froid of a good 
 old Friend, <c Ah, dear me ! This fighting and kill 
 ing is a sad thing . I wish George ^vould come home 
 and look after his plantation . /" 
 
 NOR does it appear that nature had mixed much 
 of gunpowder in the composition of any of his bro 
 thers : for when one of them, in the time of Brad- 
 dock s war, wrote him a letter, signifying something 
 like a wish to enter into the service ; George, it is 
 said, gave him this short reply : u Brother, stay at 
 home, and comfort your -wife" 
 
 BUT though not destined to figure on the quarter 
 deck of a man of war, yet he ceased not to cultivate 
 that talent which had been given for higher uses. 
 From adjutant Muse, a Westmoreland volunteer, 
 who had gained much credi,t in the war of Cuba, 
 whence he had lately returned with Lawrence Wash 
 ington, he learnt to go through the manual exercise 
 with great dexterity. By the help of good trea 
 tises on the art of war, which were put into his hands 
 by the same gentleman, he soon acquired very clear 
 ideas of the evolutions and movements of troops. 
 And from Mons. Vanbraam, who afterwards accom 
 panied him as interpreter to Venango, he acquired 
 the art of fencing, at which, it is said, he was ex 
 tremely expert, A passion, so uncommon for war, 
 joined to a very manly appearance, and great digni 
 ty of character, could scarcely fail to attract on him 
 the attention of the public. In fact the public senti 
 ment was so strong in his favour, that at the green 
 age of nineteen, he was appointed major and adju 
 tant general of the Virginia forces in the Northern 
 Neck, when training, as was expected, for imme 
 diate service. 
 
 FOR his services as an adjutant general, he was al 
 lowed by the crown one hundred pounds sterling per 
 annum. 
 
30 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 French encroachments on the Ohio Washington vo 
 lunteers nis service to governor Dinwiddie his 
 hazardous embassy to the French and Indians 
 miraculous escapes account of his journalanec 
 dote of his modesty. 
 
 IN the year 1753 the people of Virginia were 
 alarmed by a report that the French, aided by the 
 Indians, were erecting a long line of military posts 
 on the Ohio. This manoeuvre, predicting no good 
 to the ANCIENT DOMINION, was properly resented 
 by Robert Dinwiddie, the governor, who wished 
 immediately in the name of his king to forbid the 
 measure. But how to convey a letter to the French 
 commandant on the Ohio, was the question. For 
 the whole country west of the Blue Mountains, was 
 one immeasurable forest, from time immemorial the 
 gloomy haunt of ravening beasts and of murderous 
 savages. No voices had ever broke the awful silence 
 of those dreary woods, save the hiss of rattlesnakes, 
 the shrieks of panthers, the yell of Indians, and 
 howling tempests. From such scenes, though be 
 held but by the distant eye of fancy, the hearts of 
 youth are apt to shrink with terror, and to crouch 
 more closely to their safer fire-sides. But in the 
 firmer nerves of Washington, they do not appear to 
 have made the least impression of the agueish sort. 
 The moment he heard of the governor s wishes, he 
 waited on him with a tender of his services. 
 
 " Now Christ save my saoul, but ye er a brarv 
 ladf 9 said the good old Scotchman, " and gin ye play 
 your cards weel, my boy y ye shall hae nae cause to 
 rue your bargain." The governor took him to his 
 palace that night, which was spent in preparing his 
 letters and instructions. The next day, accompanied 
 by an interpreter and a couple of servants, he set out 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. Si 
 
 on his journey, which, being in the depth of winter, 
 was as disagreeable and dangerous as Hercules him 
 self could have desired. Drenching rains and drown 
 ing floods, and snow-covered mountains opposed 
 his course ; but opposed in vain. The generous am 
 bition to serve his country, and to distinguish him 
 self, carried him through all ; and, even at the most 
 trying times, touched his heart with a joy unknown 
 to the VAIN and TRIFLING. On his way home he 
 was way-laid arid shot at by an Indian, who, though 
 not fifteen paces distant, happily missed his aim. The 
 poor wretch was made prisoner. But Washington 
 could not find in his heart to put him to death, though 
 his own safety seemed to require the sacrifice. The 
 next evening, in attempting to cross a river on a 
 raft, he was within an ace of being drowned ; and, 
 the night following, of perishing in the ice but from 
 both these imminent deadly risks, there was a hand 
 unseen that effected his escape. 
 
 ABOUT the middle of January he returned to Wil- 
 liamsburgh ; and, instantly waiting on the governor, 
 presented him the fruits of his labours the belts of 
 wampum which he had brought from the Indian 
 kings as pledges of their friendship the French 
 governor s letters and, last of ail, his journal of the 
 expedition. This, it seems, he had drawn up as a tub 
 for the whale, that he might be spared the pain of 
 much talking about himxclfand his adventures. For 
 like the king o.f Morven, u though mighty deeds rolled 
 from his soul of fire, yet his ivords were never heard,"* 
 The governor was much pleased with the Indian belts 
 more with the Frenchman s letter but most of 
 all with Washington s journal, which he proposed to 
 have printed immediately. Washington begged 
 that his excellency would spare him the mortification 
 of seeing his journal sent out into the world in so 
 mean a dress. He urged, that having been written 
 in a wintry wilderness, by atraveller,young, illiterate, 
 and often cold, wet, and weary, it neevled a thousand 
 amendments. <l Hoot awa, Major" replied his excel- 
 
32 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 lency, " hoot awa, man ; -what tank ye aboot amend- 
 " ments. I am sure the pamphlet need nae blush to 
 M be seen by his majesty himsel and in geud troth I 
 u mean to send him a copy or twa of it. And be 
 " sides our Assembly will rise to-morrow or next 
 u day, and I wish each of the members to tak a 
 " few copies hiime with them. So we must e en 
 " strait-way print the journal offhand as it is." 
 
 THE journal, of course, was immediately printed. 
 Every eye perused it : and every tongue was loud in 
 its praise. Indeed it was not easy to err on the side 
 of excess ; for whoever with candour reads the jour 
 nal, will readily pronounce it an unique in the histo 
 ry of juvenile productions. It discovers that vigour, 
 and variety of talents, which take up, as it were in 
 tuitively, the views belonging to any new subject that 
 presents itself. It is the hasty production of a young 
 man, born in retreats of deepest solitude, in a time 
 of profoundest peace, and brought up to the simple 
 harmless employment of a surveyor, an employment 
 \vhich, more than any other, tends to tranquillize the 
 mind. The verdure and music of the love-breathing 
 spring ; the bright fields and harvests of joy-inspir 
 ing summer ; the faded leaves and mournful silence 
 of autumn, with winter s solemn grandeur ; were the 
 scenes in which the youth of Washington was pas 
 sed. In these he hears the roar of distant war from 
 these he is sent forth to mark the gathering storm. 
 Instantly he breathes the whole spirit of his new en 
 gagement u Old thing s are done away : all things are 
 become new" The chain and theodolite are forgotten 
 the surveyor is lost in the soldier. His shoulders 
 are young : but they sustain the head of an old engi 
 neer. He marks the soil, the timber, the confluence 
 of rivers, the sites for forts. In short, nothing con 
 nected with the defence of his country escapes him. 
 He penetrates the characters of the different people 
 around him the low sensuality of the Indian, ready, 
 for a dram, to lift the tomahawk the polished subtil- 
 ties of the European, who can smi/iand smile " 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 33 
 
 yet design the death of the traveller. These impor 
 tant truths present themselves intuitively to his mind; 
 and shine with such lustre in the pages of his jour 
 nal, as to command the admiration of every unpre 
 judiced reader. 
 
 AMONG the gentlemen in Williamsburgh, who had 
 sense and virtue enough to appreciate the worth of 
 Washington, one of the first was a Mr. Waller. 
 This gentleman, conversing on that subject with 
 Mr. Robertson, speaker of the house of Burgesses, 
 observed, that such services as those rendered by 
 Major Washington, were far too important to be 
 paid off by the light coin of common parlour puffs. 
 u This young man" said he, " has deserved well of 
 his country ; and her Representatives in Assembly 
 ought to acknowledge the obligation" Thafs exactly 
 my own opinion" replied Robertson : " and if you 
 will let me know when the. major next visits us, I will 
 make a motion to that effect" 
 
 THE next day, Washington, not having ever 
 dreamt of the honour intended him, entered the 
 house; and, going up stairs, took his seat in the 
 gallery. The eagle-eyed friendship of Mr. Waller 
 quickly discovered him ; and stepping to the chair, 
 whispered it to Mr. Robertson ; who instantly arose, 
 and ordering silence, called out : 4< Gentlemen, it is 
 proposed that the thanks of this HOUSE be given to 
 Major Washington, who now sits in the gallery, for 
 the very gallant manner in which he executed the 
 important trust lately reposed in him by his excellen 
 cy governor Dinwiddie." In a moment the HOUSE 
 rose as one man ; and turning towards Washington, 
 saluted him with a general bow ; and, in very flatter 
 ing terms, expressed their high sense of his services. 
 Had an earthquake shaken the capitol to the centre^ 
 it could hardly have so completely confounded. ]^ 
 major! He rose to make his acknowledgments, but\ 
 alas ! his tongue had forgotten its office. Thrice he 
 essayed to speak : but thrice, in spite of every effort, 
 his utterance failed him, save faintly to articulate, 
 
34 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 u Mr. Speaker, Mr. Speaker . " To relieve him from 
 his embarrassment, Mr. Robertson kindly called out, 
 " Major Washington, Major. Washington, sit down ; 
 your modesty alone is equal to your merit." 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 The French and Indian -war begins Washington 
 goes forth to meet the dangers of his country aims 
 a blow at Fort Du ^iiesne -fails gallant defence 
 of Fort Necessity retires from the service in dis 
 gust pressed into it again by General Braddock 
 defeat and death of Braddock, and dreadful slaugh 
 ter of his army. 
 
 " WELL, WHAT is TO COME, WILL COME!" said 
 poor Paddy, when going to the gallows. Even so 
 was come, as would seem, the time that was to come 
 for *-< kings to go forth to battle" The truth is, num 
 bers of poor tax-ground, and thence uneducated and 
 half-starved wretches in Britain and France, were 
 become diseased with a mortal cachexy or surcharge 
 of bad humours ; such as gambling, swindling, horse 
 stealing, highway robbing, &c. which nothing but 
 the saturnine pills and steel points of Mars could ef 
 fectually carry off. Thus in all corrupted govern 
 ments WAR is considered as a necessary evil. It was 
 no doubt necessary then. 
 
 SUCH was the remote cause. The proximate histo 
 ry ,.or how the dance begun, we now proceed to relate* 
 
 WE have just seen that the French, pouring 
 down from the lakes of Canada, thick as autumnal 
 geese, were dashing away on the Ohio, at an alarm 
 ing rate multiplying forts holding TALKS and 
 strengthening their alliances with the Indians. And 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 35 
 
 we have seen, that Washington, with letters from 
 governor Dinwiddie, had been out among the PAR- 
 LEZVOUS, conjuring them by every thing venerable 
 in treaties, or valuable in peace, to desist from such 
 unwarrantable measures. But all to no purpose : 
 for the French commandant, smiling at Washington, 
 as a green horn, and at Dinwiddie as an oldfool, con 
 tinued his operations as vigorously as though he 
 knew not that the country in question made a part of 
 the British empire. 
 
 SWIFT as the broad- winged packets could fly across 
 the deep, the news was carried to England. Its ef 
 fect there was like that of a stone rudely hurled 
 against a nest of hornets. Instantly, from centre to 
 circumference, all is rage and bustle the hive re 
 sounds with the maddening insects. Dark tumbling 
 from their cells they spread the hasty wing, and 
 shrill whizzing through the air, they rush to find tht 
 foe. Just so in the sea-ruling island, from queens 
 house to ale-house, from king to cockney, all were fierce 
 for fight. Even the red-nosed porters where they 
 met, bending under their burdens, would stop in the 
 streets, to talk of ENGLAND S WRONGS : and, as they 
 talked, their fiery snouts were seen to g/ow more 
 fiery still, and more deformed. Then throwing their 
 packs to the ground, and leaping into the attitude of 
 boxers, with sturdy arms across, and rough black 
 jaws stretched out, they bend forward to the fancied 
 fight The frog-eating few, in shirtless ruffles aid 
 long lank queue, seems to give grouiid ! then rising in 
 their might, with fire-striking eyes they press hard 
 upon him ; and coming in, hand and foot, with kick 
 and cuff and many a hearty curse, they shew the GIG 
 GLING CROWD, how, damn em they would thump 
 the French. 
 
 THE news was brought to Britain s king just as 
 he had dispatched his pudding ; and sat, right royally 
 amusing himself with a slice of Gloucester and a 
 nip of ale. From the lips of the king down fell the 
 kickless cheese, alas ! not grac d to comfort the sto- 
 
36 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 mach of the Lord s anointed ; while, crowned with 
 snowy foam, his nut-brown ale stood untasted beside 
 his plate. Suddenly as he heard the news, the 
 monarch darkened in his place : and answering dark 
 ness shrouded all his court. 
 
 IN silence he rolled his eyes of fire on the floor, 
 and twirled his terrible thumbs / his pages shrunk 
 from his presence ; for who could stand before the 
 king of thundering ships, when wrath, in gleams of 
 lightning, flashed from his ** dark red eyes f" Start 
 ing at length, as from a trance, he swallowed his 
 ale : then clenching his fist, he gave the table a tre 
 mendous knock, and cursed the wooden-shoed nation 
 by his God! Swift as he cursed, the dogs of war 
 bounded from their kennels, keen for the chase : 
 and, snuffing the blood of Frenchmen on every gale, 
 they raised a howl of death which reached these 
 peaceful shores. Orders were immediately issued, 
 by the British government, for the colonies to arm 
 and unite in one confederacy. Virginia took the 
 lead ; and raised a regiment, to the second command 
 in which she raised her favourite Washington. Co 
 lonel Fry, by right of seniority, commanded : but on 
 his death, which happened soon after his appoint 
 ment, Washington succeeded to the command. 
 With this little handful, he bravely pushed out into 
 the wilderness, in quest of the enemy ; and at a place 
 called the Little Meadows, came up with a party 
 under one Jumonville. This officer was killed, and 
 all his men taken prisoners. 
 
 FROM these prisoners, he obtained undoubted intel 
 ligence, that the French troops on the Ohio, con 
 sisted of upwards of a thousand regulars, and ma 
 ny hundreds of Indians. But notwithstanding this 
 disheartening intelligence, he still pressed on un 
 dauntedly against the enemy, and, at a place called 
 the Great Meadows, built a fort, which he called 
 Fort Necessity 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON ST 
 
 SOON as the lines of the entrenchments were 
 marked off, and the men about to fall to work, Wash 
 ington seizing the hand of the first that was lifting the 
 spade, cried out u Stop, my brave fellow / my hand 
 must heave the first earth that is thrown up in defence 
 of this country /" 
 
 LEAVING a small garrison behind him, he dashed 
 on for Fort Duquesne, (Fort Pitt,) hoping by the re 
 duction of that important post, to strike terror into 
 the enemy, and defeat their plans. But though 
 this was a bold stroke of generalship, yet it appeared 
 that he had not a force sufficient to effect it. For in 
 the midst of this day s march, he was met by a party 
 of friendly Indians, who, running up to him, with 
 looks and gestures greatly agitated, cried out: u Fly ! 
 Ry ! don t look behind you! your enemies are upon you, 
 thick as the pigeons in the woods /" 
 
 WASHINGTON called a council of his officers, who 
 advised an immediate return to Fort Necessity, which 
 they hardly recovered, before their centinels fired an 
 alarm ; came running in ; and stated, that the woods 
 were alive with Frenchmen and Indians ! It should 
 have been observed, that the dreadful news of the 
 day before, had produced so shameful a desertion 
 among his troops, in the course of the night, that, 
 when the enemy attacked, which they did with 1500 
 men, Washington had but 300 to stand by him. 
 But never did the true Virginia valour shine more 
 gloriously than on this trying occasion -to see 300 
 young fellows- commanded by a smooth-faced boy 
 all unaccustomed to the terrors of war far from 
 home and from all hope of help- shut up in a dreary 
 wilderness- and surrounded by five times their num- 
 ber of savage foes, yet without sign of fear, preparing 
 for mortal combat ! Scarcely since the days of Le- 
 onidas and his three hundred deathless Spartans, had 
 the sun beheld its equal. With hideous whoops and 
 yells, the enemy came on like a host of tigers. The 
 woods and rocks, and tall tree-tops, fillea rvith Indians, 
 
38 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 were in one continued blaze and crash of fire-arms. 
 Nor were our youthful warriors idle : but animated 
 by their youthful commander, they plied their rifles 
 with such spirit, that the little fort resembled a vol 
 cano in full blast, roaring and discharging thick sheets 
 of liquid fire and of leaden deaths among their foes. 
 For nine glorious hours, salamander-like, enveloped 
 in smoke and flames, they sustained the attack of the 
 enemy s whole force, and laid two hundred of them 
 dead on the spot! Discouraged by such desperate re 
 sistance, the French general, the Count de Villiers, 
 sent in a flag to Washington, highly extolling his 
 gallantry, and offer ing hi ro the mosthonourable terms. 
 It was stipulated, that Washington and his little band 
 of heroes, should march away with all the honours of 
 war, and carry with them tiieir military stores and 
 baggage. 
 
 ON their return to the bosom of their country, they 
 were every where received with the praises which 
 they had so well deserved. The Legislature voted 
 the thanks of the nation to Washington and his offi 
 cers ; with a pistole to each of his men, about 300. 
 
 IN the course of the following winter, notice was 
 given from the mother country, that American offi 
 cers, acting with the British, should bear no com 
 mand ! ! Hence the poorest shoat, if wearing the 
 proud epaulette of a Briton, might command a 
 Wolfe, if so unlucky as to be an American ! ! ! In 
 censed at such an outrage on common justice, and 
 the rights of his countrymen, Washington threw up 
 his commission ; and retired to his plantation, Mount 
 Vcrnon, lately left him by his brother Lawrence. 
 Here,Cincinnatus-like, he betook him to his favourite 
 plough. But the season called for the s\vord ; and 
 he was now risen too high to be overlooked in times 
 ike those when troubles and fears began to darken 
 over all the land. 
 
 THE report of his gallant but unsuccessful strug 
 gle with the French and Indians, soon reached Eng, 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 39 
 
 -and : and the ministry thinking the colonies alone 
 too weak to repel the enemy, hurried on General 
 Braddock, with two heavy regiments, to their aid. 
 This reinforcement arrived early in the spring o 
 1755. Leaving them at the Capes on their way up 
 to Belle-haven,(now ALEXANDRIA,) Braddock called 
 at Williamsburgh, to see Governor Dinwiddie, who 
 attended him to Alexandria. 
 
 " Where is Colonel Washing-ton ?"" said General 
 Braddock. " I long to see him ." 
 
 " He is retired from the service, Sir" replied the 
 Governor. 
 
 " Retired ! Sir . " continued the General, < Co 
 lonel Washington retired ! pray, Sir, -what s the rea 
 son ?" 
 
 ON hearing the cause, he broke into a passion 
 against the order from the war-office as a shameful 
 piece of partiality and extolled Colonel Washington 
 as u a young man of sense and spirit, who knew and 
 asserted his rights as became a soldier and a British 
 subject." 
 
 HE then wrote to Washington, whom he pressing- 
 ly invited to join his army, and accept the rank of a 
 volunteer aid-de-camp in his own family. This in 
 vitation was cheerfully accepted by our young coun 
 tryman, who waited on General Braddock as soon as 
 he heard of his arrival at Alexandria. About the 
 same time, three companies of excellent Virginia 
 marksmen, raised by order of the Legislature, ar 
 rived at the British camp. 
 
 IT was in the month of June 1 755, that the army, 
 upwards of 2000 strong, left Alexandria ; and, with 
 their faces to the west, began their march to the 
 mournful ditty of " over the hills and far away" On 
 the route Washington was taken sick ; and by the 
 time they had reached the Little Meadows, had be- 
 come so very ill, that Braddock, at the instance of th 
 physicians, insisted most peremptorily that he should 
 lie by until Colonel Dunbar with the rear of the sfr- 
 my came up. With great reluctance he yielded t 
 D 2 
 
40 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 their wishes. But so great were his fears for the ar 
 my, lest in those wild woods it should fall into some 
 Indian snare, that the moment his fever left him, he 
 mounted his horse, and pursued, and overtook them 
 the very evening before they fell into that ambuscade 
 which he had all along dreaded. For the next 
 morning, the 9th of July, when they were safely ar 
 rived within seven miles of Fort Duquesne ! and so 
 confident of success, that their general swore he 
 would that night sup either in Fort Duquesne or in 
 the lower regions behold, the Virginia Rangers 
 discovered signs of Indians. 
 
 HERE Washington, with his usual modesty, ob 
 served to General Braddock what sort of an enemy 
 he had now to deal with an enemy who would not, 
 like the Europeans, come forward to a fair contest 
 in the field, but, concealed behind the rocks and 
 trees, carry on a deadly warfare with their rifles. 
 He concluded with these words, " / beg of your ex 
 cellency the honour to allow me to lead on ivith the Vir 
 ginia Riflemen, and fight them in their own way," 
 
 HAD it been decreed that this hapless army should 
 have been saved, this was the counsel to have effected 
 it. But it would seem, alas ! that Heaven had or 
 dained their fall in that distant land ; and there with 
 their flesh to fatten the wolves and vultures on the 
 hills of Monongahela. For General Braddock, who 
 had all along treated the American officers with in 
 finite contempt, rejected Washington s counsel, and 
 swelling with most unmanly rage, replied, High, 
 
 times, by High times ! when a young Buckskin 
 
 can teach a British General how to fight /" Instantly 
 the pale, fever-worn cheeks of Washington turned 
 fiery red. But smothering his feelings, he rode 
 towards his men, biting his lip with grief and rage, 
 to think how many brave fellows would draw short 
 breath that clay through the pride and obstinacy 
 of one epauletted madman. Formed in heavy co 
 lumns the troops continued to advance. A little be 
 yond the Mononguhela, was a narrow defile, through 
 which lay their road, with moss-grown rocks on ei- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 41 
 
 ther side, and aged trees that spread an awful shade. 
 Here, in perfect concealment, the French and Indi 
 ans lay, waiting impatiently for this devoted army. 
 Too soon, alas ! the army came up ; and, entering the 
 defile, moved along in silence, like sheep to the 
 slaughter, little dreaming how close the bloody fates 
 hovered around them. Thinking their prey now 
 completely in their clutches, all at once, the Indians 
 set up the most hideous yells, as if the woods were 
 filled with ten thousand panthers. This they did, both 
 as a terror to the British, and a signal to attack ; for 
 in the same moment they poured in a general fire, 
 which instantly covered the ground with death in 
 every hideous shape. Some were seen sinking pale 
 and lifeless at once, giving up the ghost with only a 
 hollow groan others rolling on the earth, convulsed 
 and shrieking in the last agonies, while life and life s 
 warm blood together gushed in hissing torrents 
 from their breasts. Such sights of their bleeding 
 comrades, had the enemy but been in view, instead 
 of depressing would but have inflamed British blood 
 with fiercer thirst for vengeance. But, alas ! to be 
 thus entrapped in a dreary wild ! to be thus pent up, 
 and shot from behind rocks and trees, by an invisible 
 enemy, was enough to dismay the stoutest hearts. 
 Their native valour, however, and confidence in 
 themselves, did notat once forsake them. But, ani 
 mated by their officers, they stood their ground, and 
 for a considerable time fought like, heroes. But see 
 ing no impression made by their fire, while that of 
 the enemy, heavy as at first, with fatal flashes con 
 tinued to cut down their ranks, they at length took a 
 panic, and fell into great confusion. Happily, on the 
 left, where lay the deadliest fire, Washington s ran 
 gers were posted ; but not exposed like the British. 
 For, on hearing the horrible savage yells, in a mo 
 ment they flew each to his tree, like the Indians ; and 
 like them, each levelled his rifle, and with as deadly 
 aim. This, through a kind Providence, saved Brad- 
 dock s army ; for exulting in their confusion, the sa- 
 
42 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 vages, grimly painted, yelling like furies, burst 
 from their coverts, eager to glut their hellish rage 
 with a total massacre of the British. But, faithful to 
 their friends, Washington s rangers stepped forthwith 
 joy to meet the assailants. Then rose a scene suffi 
 cient to fill the stoutest heart with horror. Burning 
 alike for vengeance, both parties throw aside the slow- 
 murdering rifles, and grasp their swift-fated toma 
 hawks. Dreadfully above their heads gleams the 
 brandished steel, as with full exerted limbs, and faces 
 all inflamed with mortal hate, they level at each other 
 their last decisive blows. Death rages through all 
 their fast-thinning ranks his bleeding victims are 
 rolled together on every side. Here falls the brave 
 Virginia Blue, under the stroke of his nimbler foe 
 and there, man on man the Indians perish beneath 
 the furious tomahawks, deep buried in the shattered 
 brain. But who can tell the joy of Washington, 
 when he saw this handful of his despised country 
 men thus gallantly defending their British friends, 
 and by dint of mortal steel driving back their blood 
 thirsty assailants. Happy check ! for by this time, 
 covered with wounds Braddock had fallen his aids 
 and officers, to a man, killed or wounded and his 
 troops, in hopeless, helpless despair, flying backwards 
 and forwards from the fire of the Indians, like flocks 
 ot crowding sheep from the presence of their butch 
 ers. Washington alone remained unhurt ! Horse af 
 ter horse had been killed under him. Showers of 
 bullets had touched his locks or pierced his regiment 
 als. But still protected by Heaven still supported 
 by a strength not his own, he had continued to fly from 
 quarter to quarter, where his presence was mostneed- 
 ed, sometimes animating his rangers; sometimes 
 striving, but in vain, to rally the regulars. Twashis 
 lot to be close to the brave but imprudent Braddock 
 when he fell : and he assisted to place him in a tum 
 bril, or little cart. As he was laid down, pale and near 
 spent, with loss of blood, he faintly said to Washing 
 ton-- 
 
Page 42. 
 
 Defeat of General Braddock* 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 43 
 
 * 4 Retreat, Sir" replied Washington : " retreat by 
 all means; for the Regulars worft fight: and the 
 Rangers are nearly all killed! 
 
 u Poor fellows /" he replied, " poor fellows ! 
 Well, do as you will, Colonel, do as you will." 
 
 THE army then commenced its retreat, in a very 
 rapid and disorderly manner, while Washington with 
 his few surviving rangers, covered the rear. 
 
 HAPPILY, the Indians did not pursue them far : but 
 after firing a few random shots, returned in a body, 
 to fall upon the plunder ; while Washington, with 
 his frightened fugitives continued their retreat, sadly 
 remembering that more than one half of their morn 
 ing s gay companions were left a prey to the ravening 
 beasts of the desert. There, denied the common 
 charities of the grave, they lay for many a year 
 bleaching the lonely hills with their bones. 
 
 ON reaching Fort Cumberland, where they met 
 Colonel Dunbar with the rear of the army, General 
 Braddock died. He died in the arms of Washing 
 ton, whose pardon he often begged for having treat 
 ed him so rudely that fatal morning heartily wished, 
 he said, he had but follorved his advice frequently 
 called his rangers u brave fellows I glorious fellows,!" 
 Often said, he should be glad to live if it ivas only to 
 reward their gallantry ! I have more than once been 
 told, but cannot vouch for the truth of it, that his 
 sister, on hearing how obstinately Washington and 
 his Blues had fought for her brother, was so affected 
 that she shed tears : and sent them from England 
 handsome cockades, according to their number, and 
 a pair of colours elegantly wrought by her own fair 
 hands. 
 
 WITH respect to Washington, I cannot but men 
 tion here two very extraordinary speeches that were 
 made about him, after Braddock s defeat, and which, 
 as things have turned out, look a good deal like pro 
 phecies. A famous Indian warrior, who acted a lead 
 ing part in that bloody tragedy, was often heard to 
 swear, that " Washington was never born to be killed by 
 
44 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 a bullet ! For? continued he " / had seventeen fair 
 fires at him -with my rifle, and after all could not bring 
 him to the ground!" And indeed whoever considers 
 that a good rifle levelled by a proper marksman, hard 
 ly ever misses its aim, will readily enough conclude 
 with this unlettered savage, that there was some in 
 visible hand that turned aside the bullets. 
 
 THE Rev d Mr. Davies, in a sermon occasioned 
 by Braddock s defeat, has these remarkable words 
 u 1 beg leave to point the attention oj the public to that 
 heroic youth Colonel Washington, whom I cannot but 
 hope Providence has preserved for some great service 
 to this country ! /* 
 
 BUT though the American writers have pretty 
 unanimously agreed, that Washington was, under 
 God, the saving Angel that stood up between Brad- 
 dock s army and total destruction, yet did it profit 
 him but little with his sovereign. The British offi 
 cers indeed admired him : but they had no idea of 
 going any farther : " To tell in Gath, or publish in 
 the streets of Askalorf 9 that a British army OWL d its 
 safety to a young Buckskin, required a pitch of vir 
 tue and of courage above ordinary minds. Wash 
 ington was therefore kept in the back ground ; and 
 Genera IBraddock being dead, the command devolved 
 upon Colonel Dunbar, whose conduc tproved him to 
 be one of those pusillanimous hirelings, mho jSe 
 whent hg wolf Cometh. To attempt, by some gallao 
 effort to recover what Braddod* had oat, or p 
 hang upon the enemy, and prevent, ati east, tho*e 
 numerous scalping parties, which distracted with 
 midnight murders and deluged the defenceless fron 
 tiers with blood, were brave and generous ideas, of 
 which he seemed incapable. But, trembling under 
 the general panic, he instantly ordered the tents to be 
 struck ; and pushing off under the whip and spur of 
 his fears, never halted until he had reached Philadel 
 phia ; where he went, as he called it, into winter 
 quarters, (in the beginning of the dog-days /) leaving 
 all the frontiers of Maryland and Virginia exposed 
 to the merciless tomahawk. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 45 
 
 SUCH facts ought to be recorded for the benefit of 
 young men, who, with no military qualifications but 
 big limbs, can yet covet red coats and shoulder-knots. 
 
 BEING tlius shamefully deserted by Colonel Dun- 
 bar, Washington with his thirty rangers, set out with 
 sorrowful hearts to return home. But before he left 
 Fort Cumberland, he dispatched an express, to in 
 form Governor Dinwiddie, that " General Braddock 
 was slam his army totally defeated the remnant on 
 their march to Philadelphia and the whole frontier 
 given up to the Indians . " The consternation that 
 was spread throughout the country by this news, was 
 inexpressible. Heart-sickening terrors, as of a wo 
 man in labour, seized upon all families and a 
 frightened fancy found food for its fears in every 
 thing around it the blast whistling round the cor 
 ners of their cabin, alarmed, like the yell of murder 
 ous savages the innocent death-bell the croaking 
 
 raven the midnight howl of clogs were all sure 
 
 harbingers of fate. While, for dread of the Indians, 
 the roads were filled with thousands of distracted pa 
 rents, with their weeping little ones, flying from their 
 homes. 
 
 THE GOVERNOR instantly ordered a call of the Le 
 gislature, who, by the time Washington reached 
 Williamsburgh, were assembled, and, together with 
 numbers of citizens, went out and met him near 
 the town. 
 
 THE interview was tender. For the citizens were 
 almost moved to tears, when they saw that of so many 
 of their brave countrymen who went forth to battle, 
 only this little handful remained ! They were exceed 
 ingly rejoiced to see, alive and well, their beloved 
 Washington. He had always been dear to them ; but 
 now doubly dear, in such times of danger. They 
 mourned the misfortunes of their country ; but laid 
 no blame to him. On the contrary, it was universal 
 ly believed, that, but for him the ruin ivould have 
 been complete. " Braddock" said they, " lost the vic 
 tory : bi * Washington saved the army*" 
 E 
 
46 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 Fatal effects of Br added? s defeat Washington wish 
 es to carry the "war into the Indian country gov 
 ernment refuses defensive war preferred the 
 frontiers desolated. 
 
 GREAT was the joy at Fort Duquesne on the 
 return of their troops from the slaughter of Brad- 
 dock s army. The idea of victory, as appeared after 
 wards, had never once entered their heads. They 
 had gone out just to reconnoitre, and harass the Bri 
 tish in their approach ! How unbounded then must 
 have been the joy of the garrison, on seeing their 
 friends come back next morning, not sad and spirit 
 less, as had been expected, but whooping and snout 
 ing for a glorious victory ; and enriched with the 
 artillery, ammunition, provisions, and baggage-wag 
 gons of a British army cut to pieces / / 
 
 THE French commandant took care to make a 
 proper use of his advantage ; for as soon as the days 
 of savage feasting and drunkenness were over, he 
 sent out deputations of his chiefs with grand-talks to 
 several of the neighbouring tribes, who had not yet 
 ifted the hatchet. 
 
 THE tribes being assembled, and the calumet or 
 pipe of friendship smoked around, the chiefs arose ; 
 and in all the pomp of Indian eloquence announced 
 their great victory over Long 1 Knife (the Virginians) 
 and his white brothers, (the British) then with a 
 proud display of the numerous scalps and rich dresses 
 which they had taken, they concluded with inviting 
 the young men to unbury the tomahawk, and rush 
 with them to drink the blood of their enemies. 
 
 THIS was enough " Grinning horribly a ghastly 
 smile" at such prospects of blood and plunder, the 
 grim children of the desert, rose up at once to war. 
 No time was lost in preparation. A pouch of parch- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 47 
 
 ed corn, and a bear-skin, with n rifle, tomahawk, 
 and scalping knife, were their equipage. And in a 
 few weeks after Braddock s defeat, an army of at 
 least fourteen hundred of those blood-thirsty savages 
 were in full march over hills and mountains, to sur 
 prise and murder the frontier inhabitants. 
 
 WASHINGTON had early foreseen the storm that 
 would one day burst from Fort Duquesne. On his 
 first trip through that country, two years before, 
 he had marked the very spot, and pointed it out as 
 " the key of the western world" But Britain and 
 America, (like the wild ass and her colts, though 
 mule-stubborn in acting, yet snail-slow to act,) let 
 the golden chance escape ; till one Du Quesne, a 
 French officer, with some troops, passing along that 
 way in 1754, and struck, as Washington had been, 
 with the situation, immediately built thereon a fort, 
 which he called after his own name. It answered 
 the fatal purposes which Washington had predicted. 
 By means of the bold water courses on which it 
 stood, it greatly favoured the conveyance both of 
 goods and of intelligence. There the French laid up 
 magazines for their Indian allies, and there they 
 hoisted the dread signals of war. 
 
 NOT having been able to prevail on his country 
 men to occupy it before the enemy, Washington s 
 whole ambition now was to take it from them. 
 it Send two thousand men" said he, in numerous 
 importunate letters to the Governor and Legislature, 
 41 send two thousand men, and drain the fountain at 
 once the streams will fail of course." 
 
 BUT, spite of this advice, the mad policy of a de 
 fensive war prevailed in the Virginia Government : 
 and instead of raising 2000 men, they voted to raise 
 about half that number ! and then, like hypocrites 
 who make up in lip-service what they lack in good 
 works, they dubbed him Commander in chief of all 
 the troops raised or to be raised in Virginia, with the 
 privilege of naming his own field officers . 
 
 THF.SE vain honours served but to exalt him to a 
 higher sphere of misery the miser} 7 of taking a 
 
48 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 wider survey of those misfortunes of his country 
 which he could not remedy, and to feel a deeper 
 responsibility for those blunders of others, which he 
 could not cure. He saw Fort Duquesne mustering 
 her murderers, which he had no powers to prevent! 
 He hud a frontier of 36O miles to defend, and gene 
 rally less than 70O men to defend it with ! If he kept 
 his troops embodied, the whole country would be left 
 open to the savages. If he broke them down into 
 small parties, they might be destroyed one after ano 
 ther, by a superior force. If he threw them into 
 forts, they were sure to be starved ; or derided by 
 the enemy who could easily pass them in the night 
 and surprize, destroy, and murder the inhabitants 
 with impunity. And though thus completely crippled 
 by the stupidity or parsimony of the government, 
 and incapacitated from doing any services for his 
 country, yet great services were expected of him, 
 and great blame bestowed for every failure. If no 
 victories were gained over the enemy, he would be 
 blamed for inactivity. If the settlers were murdered, 
 he would be accused of neglect and if he pointed 
 out the errors of government, he would be charged 
 as * officious" and u impertinent ;" and this while 
 young officers ot the worthless sort, mere cork-draw 
 ers and songsters at great men s tables, were basely 
 cutting in with a weak old governor s prejudices, to 
 work hi in out, and to worm themselves into favour 
 and rank. 
 
 BUT all these vexations and sorrows were but tri- 
 fles in comparison ol others which he was doomed to 
 feel. Seeing no hopes pi a force sufficient to attack 
 Fori Duquesne, he formed a chain of garrisons 
 along tin- frontier ; and then, with a flying corps of 
 the most active and daring young men, continued 
 night and clay, to scour the country in quest of the 
 enemy s murdering parties. In this bold and dange 
 rous < -mployment, wiiich lasted almost three years, 
 he was often presented with sights of human destruc 
 tion, sufficient to excite sympathy in hearts oi flintiest 
 stum.-. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 49 
 
 ON cautiously entering the hapless plantation with 
 his men, they halt and listen awhile but hear no 
 voice of man- see no house, nor sign of habitation 
 all is void and silent. Marking the buzzards perched 
 on the trees in the corn-fields, they approach, and 
 find, lying by his plough, the half-devoured carcass 
 of a man. The hole in his breast shows that he had 
 been shot, while the deep gashes in the forehead of 
 his dead horses? point out the bursting strokes of the 
 tomahawk. Amidst the ashes of the late dwelling, 
 are seen, white as chalk, the bones of the mother 
 and her children. But sometimes their raw and 
 bloody skeletons, fed on by the hogs, are found in the 
 yards or gardens where they were surprised. 
 
 u ONE day" said he to an intimate ; though it was 
 but seldom that he mentioned those things, they gave 
 him so much pain " One day, as we drew near, 
 <l through the woods, to a dwelling, suddenly we 
 u heard the discharge of a gun. Whereupon quick- 
 u ening our pace, and creeping up through the thick 
 " bushes to a- fence, we saw what we had dreaded 
 * a party of Indians, loaded with plunder, coming out 
 * of a house, which, by the smoke, appeared as if it 
 " were just set on fire. In a moment we gave the 
 " savages a shower of rifle balls, which killed every 
 u man of them but one. He attempted to run off. 
 " It was in vain. Some of our swift-footed hunters 
 u gave chase, and soon overtook and immolated him 
 ** with their tomahawks. On rushing into the house, 
 41 and putting out the fire, we saw a mournful sight 
 " indeed a young woman lying on a bed floating 
 u in blood her forehead cleft with a hatchet and 
 " on her breast two little children, apparently twins, 
 u and about nine months old, bathing her bosom with 
 " the crimson currents flowing from their deeply 
 <l gashed heads ! I had often beheld the mangled re- 
 " mains of my murdered countrymen ; but never be- 
 * fore felt what I did on this occasion. To see 
 " these poor innocents these little unoffending an- 
 E 2 
 
50 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 u gels, just entered upon life, and, instead of fondest 
 " sympathy and tenderness, meeting their hideous 
 44 deaths ; and from hands of brothers too ! filled my 
 44 soul \yith the deepest horror of sin ! but at the 
 44 same time inspired a most adoring sense of that 
 44 religion which announces the Redeemer, who 
 44 shall, one day, do away man s malignant passions, 
 44 and restore the children of God to primaeval love 
 44 and bliss. Without this hope, what man ot feel- 
 ** ing but would wish he had never been born ! 
 
 4 ON tracing back into the corn-field the steps of 
 44 the barbarians, we found a little boy, and beyond 
 44 him his father, both weltering in blood. It appear- 
 41 ed, from the print of his little feet in the furrows, 
 41 that the child had been following his father s 
 41 plough ; and, seeing him shot down, had set off 
 with all his might, to get to the house to his mo- 
 41 ther ; but was overtaken, and destroyed ! 
 
 44 AND, indeed, so great was the dread entertained 
 * of the French and Indians, throughout the settle- 
 41 ments, that it was distressing to call even on those 
 44 families who yet survived, but, from sickness or 
 44 other causes, had not been able to get away. The 
 44 poor creatures would run to meet us, like persons 
 
 44 half distracted with joy and then with looks 
 
 < 4 blank with terror, would tell that such or such a 
 44 neighbour s family, perhaps the very night before, 
 4 was murdered ! and that they heard their cries ! 
 4* and saw the flames that devoured their houses j 
 44 and also, that they themselves, after saying their 
 prayers at night, never lay down to sleep, without 
 * 4 first taking leave of one another, as if they never 
 expected to meet again in this world. But when 
 * 4 we came to take our leave of these wretched fami- 
 4 lies, my God ! what were our feelings ! to see the 
 * 4 deep, silent grief of the men ; and the looks of the 
 4 poor women and children, as, falling upon their 
 4 knees, with piercing screams, and eyes wild with 
 i terror, they seized our hands, or hung to our 
 "clotnes, intreating us, for God s sake, and for 
 k * mercy s sake, not to Itave them to be murdered. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 51 
 
 u These things so harassed my heart with grief, that 
 u I solemnly declare to God, if I know myself, I 
 44 would gladly offer my own life a sacrifice to the 
 41 butchering enemy, if I could thereby insure the 
 44 safety of these my poor distressed countrymen." 
 
 SUCH were the scenes in which Washington was 
 doomed to spend three years of a wretched life, ren 
 dered still more wretched by knowing so perfectly 
 as he did, that the rapid charge of two thousand brave 
 fellows upon Fort Duquesne, like the thundering 
 shock of a two-and-forty pounder upon a water-spout, 
 would have instantly dispersed the fatal meteor, and 
 restored the golden hours of peace and safety. But 
 to give Colonel Washington two thousand men 
 seemed to old governor Dinwiddie, like giving the 
 staff out of his own hand, as he elegantly called it: 
 and rather than do that, he would risk the desola 
 tion of the western country, by continuing a defensive 
 war, and a mad dependence on a disorderly militia, 
 who "would come and go as they pleased get drunk 
 and sleep "when they pleased whoop and halloo where 
 they pleased and, in short, serve no other purpose 
 on earth but to disgrace their officers, deceive the 
 settlers, and defraud\hz public. Indeed so ruinous 
 were these measures of governors Dinwiddie and 
 Loudon, that, in the short space of three years, they 
 completely broke up all the fine young settlements 
 to the westward of Winchester, Fredericktown, and 
 Carlisle, whereby numbers of poor people were but 
 chered ! hundreds of rich plantations deserted ! my 
 riads of produce lost ! and thousands of dollars 
 sunk ! and all for the sake of saving the paltry ex 
 pense of raising in the first instance a force which 
 would in ten weeks have taken Fort Duquesne, and 
 completely broken up that den of thieves and mur 
 derers I 
 
 AT length, in 1758, the government of Virginia 
 devolved on general Forbes, who, to the infinite satis 
 faction of Washington, consented to second his views 
 
52 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 on Fort Duquesne, Washington earnestly recom 
 mended an early campaign, lest the Indian warriors 
 who were to meet them in April at Winchester, 
 should grow tired of waiting, and return home. 
 But the season was, unfortunately, so idled away, 
 that marching orders were not given till the first of 
 September, when, according to Washington s pre 
 diction, there was not a red man to be found in 
 camp. The army then commenced its movements, 
 but still as would seem, under the frown of Heaven. 
 FOR instead of sweeping along the old track, gene 
 rally called BraddocPs road. gen. Forbes was per 
 suaded to take an entirely new route, of which every 
 inch was to be cut through wilds and mountains cover 
 ed with rocks and trees ! In vain Washington remon 
 strated against this as a measure, * which" he said,"?/ 
 persisted in at this late season, would certainly ruin 
 the undertaking" General Forbes was inflexible. 
 
 IN a letter to the Speaker of the House of Bur 
 gesses, Washington has these remarkable words 
 " If this conduct of our leaders, do not flow from su 
 perior orders, it mu^ flow from a weakness, too gross 
 for me to name. Nothing now but a miracle can 
 bring this campaign to a happy issue." In a letter 
 of a later date he says, u well, all s lost ! our enter 
 prise is ruined ! And -we shall be stopped this winter 
 at the Laurel Bills . " 
 
 BY the middle of November, after incredible ex 
 ertions, the army, sure enough, reached the Laurel 
 Hills, where Washington predicted it would winter . 
 and, strange to tell ! General Forbes, with a caucus 
 sqivid of his officers were actually in deep debate, 
 whether they should spend the winter in that inhos 
 pitable wild, or tread back their mournful steps, to 
 Winchester, when some prisoners brought the wel 
 come news that the garrison of Fort Duquesne, for 
 a long time past unsupported by their countrymen, 
 and now deserted by the Indians, was so reduced, that 
 they would surrender at the sight of an enemy. Gene 
 ral Forbes instantly changed his mind, and with a 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 53 
 
 select detachment made a push for Fort Duquesne, 
 the ruins of which he entered, without opposition, on 
 the 28th of November, 1 758. For, advertised of his 
 approach, the French determined to quit it; and after 
 having set fire to the buildings, embarked in their 
 boats, and went down the river. 
 
 HAVING thus, after three years of labour and sor 
 row, attained his favourite wish the reduction of 
 Fort Duquesne and a total dispersion of the savages, 
 Washington returned with joy to Williamsburgh, to 
 take his seat in the legislature, to which he had been 
 regularly chosen in his absence. 
 
 IT is worthy of remark, because it happens but 
 to few, that though he often fa Jed of success, he 
 never once lost the confidence of his country. Ear 
 ly aware of the importance of character, to those 
 ivho wish to be useful, he omitted no honest act, 
 thought no pains,, no sacrifice of ease too great, to 
 procure and preserve it. In the whole of that stu 
 pidly-managed war, as also another subsequent war, 
 which was not much better conducted, he always 
 took care to keep the public well informed as to the 
 part which he had acted, or wished to act, in the 
 affair. Not content, to know himself that he had 
 acted wisely or bravely, he took care that the public 
 should also know it ; in order that if at any time an 
 uproar should be made, the error might be charged 
 to the real offender. It the legislature, or governor 
 Dinv/iddie, or general Braddock, or any other supe 
 rior, with whom he had public concern, and charac 
 ter at stake, made propositions which he disliked, he 
 would modestly point out their errors, predict their 
 mischiefs, and thus wash his hands of all blame : 
 which documents, through the channel of numerous 
 letters to his friends, were always laid before the 
 people. Hence, for the ruinous consequences of the 
 weakness and obstinacy of "Dinwiddie and Braddock, 
 not a breath of censure was ever blown on him 
 On the contrary, in the public mind, he always rose 
 as high, or higher, than the others sunk. It was 
 
54 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 universally believed, that had he governed, in place 
 of Dinwiddie, the fatal Indian war would not have 
 lasted a campaign ; and that on the hills of Monon- 
 gahela, had Washington commanded in place 
 Braddock, the French and Indians would have been 
 handled very differently. Such were the sentiments 
 with which the public were prepared to receive him, 
 onhis return into their welcoming bosom. Wherever 
 he went, homage always waited upon him, though 
 always uncourted. The grey-headed rose up to do 
 him honour, when he came into their company ; and 
 the young men, with sighs, often wished for a fame 
 like his. Happy was the fairest lady of the land, 
 who, at the crowded ball, could get colonel Wash 
 ington for her partner. And even at the house 
 where prayer is wont to be made, the eyes of beau 
 ty would sometimes wander from the cold reading- 
 preacher, to catch a livelier devotion from his 
 " mind-illumined face" a face at once so dignified 
 with virtue, and so sweetened with grace, that none 
 could look on it without emotions very friendly to 
 the heart ; and sighs of sentiment, too delicate for 
 description, were often seen to heave the snowy bo 
 soms of the noblest dames. 
 
 AT the head of all these stood the accomplished 
 Mrs. Martha Custis, the beautiful and wealthy wi 
 dow of Mr. John Custis. Her "wealth was equal, 
 at least, to one hundred thousand dollars ! But hei 
 beauty was a sum far larger still. It was not the 
 shallow boast of a fine skin, which time so quickly 
 tarnishes, nor of those short-lived roses, which 
 sometimes wither almost as soon as blown. But it 
 sprung from the HEART from the divine and be 
 nevolent affections, which spontaneously gave to her 
 eyes, her looks, her voice and her manners, such an 
 gelic charms, that I could never look on her, with 
 out exclaiming with the poet, O ! 
 
 She was nearest heaven of all on earth I knew ; 
 And all but adoration was her due." 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 5>5 
 
 FOR two such kindred souls to love, it was only 
 necessary that they should meet. Their friendship 
 commenced with the first hour of their acquaintance, 
 and was soon matured to marriage, which took 
 place about trie 27th year of Washington s life. 
 His lady was, I believe, six months younger. 
 
 BUT that it is contrary to the rules of biography, 
 to begin with the husband and end with the wife, I 
 could relate of that MOST EXCELLENT LADY those 
 things which the public would greatly delight to 
 hear. However, gratitude to that bright saint, now 
 in heaven, who was my noblest benefactress, while 
 I preached in her parish, compels me to say, that 
 her VIRTUES and CHARITIES were of that extensive 
 and sublime sort, as fully to entitle her hlcjacet to 
 the following noble epitaph, a little altered, from one 
 of the British poets. 
 
 UNDERNEATH this marble hearse, 
 Lies the subject of all verse. 
 Custis widow great George s wife- 
 Death! ere thou robb st another life, 
 Virtuous, fair, and good as SHE, 
 Christ shall launch a dart at thee. 
 
56 LI*E OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 Washington s mother has a vert/ curious dream it 
 points to great coming trouble a cloud arising in 
 England the causes of the revolutionary war. 
 
 WHEN a man begins to make a noise in the 
 world, his relatives, (the Father, sometimes, but, al 
 ways that tenderer parent, the Mother) are sure to 
 recollect certain mighty odd dreams, which they had 
 of him zvhen he was a child. What rare dreams, for 
 example, had the mothers of " Macedonia s mad 
 man, and the Swede, 7 while pregnant with those 
 butchers of the human race ! Mrs. Washington also 
 had her dream, which an excellent old Lady of 
 Fredericksburg assured me she had often heard her 
 relate with great satisfaction ; and, for the last time, 
 but a few weeks before her death. 
 
 u I DREAMT," said the Mother of Washington, 
 < 4 that I was sitting in the piazza of a large new house, 
 into which we had but lately moved. George, at that 
 time about five years old, was in the garden with h,is 
 corn-stalk plough, busily running little furrows in 
 the sand, in imitation of Negro Dick, a fine black 
 boy, with whose ploughing George was so delighted 
 that it was sometimes difficult to get him to his 
 dinner. And so as I was sitting in the piazza at my 
 work, I suddenly heard in my dream a kind of roar 
 ing noise on the eastern side of the house. On run 
 ning out to see what was the matter, I beheld a 
 dreadful sheet of fire bursting from the roof. The 
 sight struck me with a horror which took away my 
 strength^ and threw me, almost senseless, to the 
 ground. My husband and the servants, as I saw in 
 my dream, soon came up ; but, like myself, were so 
 terrified at the sight, that they could make no attempt 
 to extinguish the flames. In this most distressing 
 state, the image of my little son came, I thought, to 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 imy mind more dear and tender than ever: and turn 
 ing towards the garden where he was engaged with 
 his little corn-stalk-plough, I screamed out twice with 
 all my might, George! George! In a moment, as I 
 thought, he threw down his mimic plough, and ran 
 to me saying, " High ! Ma ! what makes you call so 
 angry ! an t la good boy don t I always run to you 
 soon as I hear you call?" I could make no reply, but 
 just threw up my arms towards the flame. He look 
 ed up and saw the house all on fire : but instead of 
 bursting out a crying, as might have been expected 
 from a child, he instantly brightened up, and seemed 
 ready to fly to extinguish it. But first looking at me 
 with great tenderness, he said, " Oh, Ma! don t be 
 afraid: God Almighty will help us, and we shall soon 
 put it out" His loo ks and words revived our spi 
 rits in so wonderful a manner, that we all instantly 
 set about to assist him. A ladder was presently 
 brought, on which, as I saw in my dream, he ran up 
 with the nimbleness of a squirrel ; and the servants 
 supplied him with water, which he threw on the fire 
 from an American gourd. But that growing weaker, 
 the flame appeared to gain ground, breaking forth 
 and roaring most dreadfully, which so frightened the 
 servants, that many of them, like persons in despair, 
 began to leave him. But he, still undaunted, conti 
 nued to ply it with water, animating the servants at 
 the same time, both by his words and actions. For a 
 long time the contest appeared very doubtful : but at 
 length a venerable old man, with a tall cap and an 
 iron rod in his hand, like a lightning rod, reached 
 out to him a curious little trough, like a wooden shoe ! 
 On receiving this, be redoubled his exertions, and 
 soon extinguished the fire. Our joy on the occasion 
 was unbounded. J3ut he, on the contrary, showing 
 no more of transport now than of terror before, 
 looked rather sad at sight of the great harm that had 
 been done. Then I saw in my dream that after some 
 time spent as in deep thought, he called out with 
 much joy, u Well^ Ma not* if you and the family 
 F 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 w ill but consent, -we can make afar better roof than 
 this ever ivas ; a roof of such a quality, that if well 
 kept together, it will last for ever ; but if you take it 
 apart, you will make the house ten thousand times 
 worse than it was before." 
 
 THIS, though certainly a very curious dream, 
 needs no Daniel to interpret it ; especially if we 
 take Mrs. Washington s new house, for the young 
 Colony Government the fire on its east side, for 
 North s civil war the gourd which Washington 
 first employed, for the-American 3 and 6 months 
 inlistments the old man with his cap and iron rod, 
 for Doctor Franklin the shoe-like vessel which he 
 reached to Washington, for the Sabot or wooden- 
 shoed nation, the French, whom Franklin courted 
 a long time for America and the new roof pro 
 posed by Washington, for a staunch honest Repub 
 lic that " equal government," which, by guarding 
 alike the welfare of all, ought by all to be so heartily 
 beloved as to endure for ever. 
 
 HAD it been appointed unto any man to quaff un- 
 mingled happiness in this lite, George Washington 
 had been that man. For where is that pleasurable 
 ingredient with which his cup was not full and over 
 flowing? 
 
 CROWNED with honours laden with riches blest 
 with health and in \.\\e joyous prime of 27, sharing 
 each rural sweet in the society of a charming wo 
 man who doated on him, he surely bid fair to 
 spend his days and nights of life in ceaseless plea 
 sure But ah ! as sings the sweet bard of Zion, 
 
 OUR days, alas ! our mortal days, 
 
 Are short and wretched too ! 
 " Evil and few . " the Patriarch says, 
 
 And well the Patriarch knew ! 
 Tis but at best, a narrow bound, 
 
 That Heaven allots to men ; 
 And pains and sins run through the round^ 
 
 Of three-score years and ten ! 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 59 
 
 FROM this, the universal lot, not Washington him 
 self could obtain exemption. For in the midst of his 
 favourite labours, of the plough and pruning-hook, 
 covering his extensive farms with all the varied de 
 lights of delicious fruits and golden grain, of lowing 
 heads and snowy flocks, he was suddenly called on 
 by his country, to turn his plough-share into a sword, 
 and go forth to meet a torrent of evils which threat 
 ened her. The fountain of those evils, whence at 
 length flowed the great civil war, which for ever se 
 parated Britain and her children, I proceed now 
 briefly to state. 
 
 AFTER the reduction of Canada, the British offi 
 cers who commanded on that expedition, came to 
 Boston and New- York, on a visit to their American 
 brethren in arms, who had served with them in that 
 war. Soon as their arrival was announced, the Ame 
 ricans flew to meet and welcome them. They were 
 paraded through the streets as the saviours of the 
 land the doors of all were thrown open to receive 
 them and every day, during their stay, was spent 
 in feasting and public dinners, which, for sake of 
 their beloved guests, were made as splendid as pos 
 sible, though always through the aid of obliging 
 neighbours. The rooms glittered with borrowed 
 plate wines of every vintage sparkled on the crowd 
 ed side-boards while the long-extendedtables were 
 covered with finest fish and flesh, succeeded by the 
 richest desserts. The British officers were equally 
 charmed and astonished at such elegant hospitality j 
 and, on their return to England, gave full scope to 
 their feelings. They painted the colonial wealth in 
 the colourings of romance ; and spoke of the Ameri 
 cans as a people, who, in comparison of the British, 
 lived like kings. 
 
 THUS, American hospitality, by a strange perver 
 sion, had nearly destroyed American Liberty ! For, 
 from that time, the British ministry began to 
 look upon the Americans with an evil eye, and to de 
 vise ways and means to make us "bear apart of their 
 
60 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 burdens /" But what did they mean by this ? Did they 
 mean to acknowledge us as sons of Britons ; equally 
 free and independent with our brethren in England? 
 and, like them, allowed a representation in Parlia 
 ment, who should freely vote our money for the 
 common cause ? 
 
 OH no ! an idea so truly British and honourable, 
 was not at all in their thoughts. We were not to be 
 treated as brothers, but as slaves . over whom an un 
 conditional right was claimed, to tax and take our 
 property at pleasure ! ! ! 
 
 READER, if you be a Briton, be a Briton still 
 preserve the characteristic calm and candour of a 
 Briton. I am not about to say one word against 
 your nation. No ! I know them too well : and thank 
 God, I can say, after several -years residence among 
 them, I believe them to be as Honest, Charitable, 
 and Magnanimous a people as any under the canopy 
 of Heaven. I am about to speak of the MINISTRY 
 only, who certainly, at that time, were a most am 
 bitious and intriguing junto, who by badmeans had 
 attained power ; and by -worse were endeavouring to 
 extend it, even to the destruction of both American 
 and British Liberty, as the excellent Mr. Pitt 
 charged them, No Englishman can desire fuller 
 evidence than this one tyrannical claim made against 
 us by Lord North " taxation -without representa 
 tion ! /" As a plea for such despotic doings, NORTH 
 and his creatures began with boldly trumpeting the 
 wonderful kindness they had conferred on America. 
 u They, it seems, " frst discovered the country ! 
 they settled it they always had defended it. It -was 
 their blood their treasure- their ships and sailors, 
 and soldiers, that created the British colonies ! . 
 
 O DEAR ! and what then ? why, to be sure, af 
 ter having done such mighty things for the Ameri 
 cans, they had as clear a right to their gold and silver, 
 as a butcher has to the hair and hides of his cattle ! 
 
 THIS language was actually carried into Parlia 
 ment ! where a Mr Charles Townsend, to enforce 
 the stamp act, cried out, " Who are these Americans ? 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 61 
 
 Are they not our children, planted by our care, nour 
 ished by our indulgence, and protected by our arms?" 
 
 AT this the brave Colonel Barre, with cheeks in 
 flamed with virtuous indignation, thus thundered 
 forth against the insolent speechifier. " They plant 
 ed by your care ! No, sir : your oppressions planted 
 them in America. They Jledfrom your tyranny to 
 a then uncultivated and inhospitable country, ruhere 
 they exposed themselves to all the evils zvhich a wil 
 derness, filled -with blood-thirsty savages, could 
 threaten. And yet, actuated by true English love of 
 liberty, they thought all these evils light in comparison 
 zuith what they had suffered in their ow?i country, 
 and from you, who ought to have been thtir friends. 
 
 u They nourished by your indulgence ! No, sir ! 
 they grerv by your neglect. As soon av you be an to 
 indulge them, that boasted indulgence rvas to send 
 them hungry packs of your own creatures, to spy out 
 their liberties I to misrepresent their actions ana. 
 to prey upon their substance ! Yes, sir, you sent their,, 
 men, tohose behaviour has often caused the blood of 
 those sons cf Liberty to recoil within them men pro- 
 moted by you to the highest seats of justice, in that 
 country, zvho, to my knowledge, had good cause to 
 dread a court of justice in their own! They protect 
 ed Oy your arms ! No, sir ! They have nobly taken 
 up arms in your defence; have exerted a most heroic 
 valour, amidst their daily labours, for the defence oj 
 a country "whose frontier was drenched in blood^ while 
 its interior parts gave up all their saving-.? for o : -<r 
 emolument!" 
 
 ALL this was very true. For the Americans had 
 not only planted, but in a great measure protected 
 themselves. In the French and Indian war, from 55 
 to 63, they lost nearly 30,000 of their stoutest young 
 men ! And bv regular returns it appears that Mas 
 sachusetts alone expended about 50,0007. sterling 
 in that time ! ! ! And moreover, they had never he 
 sitated for a moment to furnish to the last man and 
 the last shilling wnatever Britain had required. 
 F 2 
 
62 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 BUT, alas ! what signifies right against might ! 
 When a king wants money for his own pride, or for 
 his hungry relations, and when his ministers want 
 stakes for their gaming tables, or diamond necklaces 
 for their mistresses, they will have it, though plun 
 dered colonies should lack bread and spelling books 
 for their children. For in the year 63, when the 
 lamp of God was burning with peculiar brightness in 
 our land, and both Britain and her colonies enjoyed a 
 measure of blessings seldom indulged to the most 
 favoured nations when, at the very mention of 
 Old England, our hearts leaped for joy, as at the 
 name of a great and venerable mother, and that mo 
 ther felt equal transport at thoughts of us, her 
 flourishing colonies when all the produce of these 
 vast and fertile regions was poured into her beloved 
 lap, and she, in return, not allowing us the trouble to 
 make even a hob-nail, heaped our families with all 
 the necessaries and elegancies of her ingenious art 
 ists when, though far separated by an ocean s roar, 
 we were yet so united by love and mutual helpful 
 ness, that the souls of Columbus, Raleigh, and Smith, 
 looking down from Heaven, with joy beheld the 
 consummation of all their labours and wishes! At 
 that happy period, lord North brought in a bill to 
 tax the colonies, without allowing us a voice in their 
 councils ! ! The colonies were thunderstruck : and 
 Britain herself groaning through all her islands, 
 gave signs of woe, that all was lost /" 
 DOCTOR Franklin, who was then in England as a 
 colony agent, on hearing that this most iniquitous bill 
 had actually passed both houses, and was ratified by 
 
 he king, wrote to afriend in America in these words 
 " The sun of our liberty it set. You must all now 
 
 ight up the double candles of Industry and Econo 
 my. But, above all things, encourage theyoungpeo* 
 pie to marry and raise up children as fast as they can." 
 MEANING, that America, yet too weak to resist 
 
 he chains which a wicked ministry were forging for 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 63 
 
 her, should instantly fly to heaven-ordered marriage, 
 for her heroic youth, to rend the ignominious bonds 
 from their own and their father s arms. 
 
 BUT the sons of Columbia, though few in number, 
 had too long enjoyed the sweets of Liberty and Pro 
 perty, to part with them so tamely, because a king 
 and his minions had ordered it. No ! blessed be God, 
 their conduct was such as to strike the world with 
 this glorious truth, that a brave people, who kno^9 
 their rights, are not to be enslaved. 
 
 FOR, soon as it was told in America, that the 
 stamp-act had passed, the people rose up against it as 
 one man the old grudges between churchmen and 
 dissenters were instantly forgotten every man look 
 ed to his fellow as to a brother for aid against the 
 coming slavery their looks on each other were as 
 lightnings in a parched forest the sacred fire kin 
 dled, and ran from end to end of the continent. In 
 every colony the people rushed into patriotic socie 
 ties.. .reminded each other of theirrights... denounced 
 the stamp-act as a most audacious infringement 
 burnt in effigy the promoters of it destroyed the 
 houses of those degenerated Americans who had re 
 ceived the stamps to sell and menaced loudly a 
 non-intercourse with Britain, if the act was not im 
 mediately repealed! 
 
 THIS spirited behaviour filled all England with 
 amazement. Every man there, no matter what his 
 principles or politics, felt it to the very quick. The 
 manufacturers and merchants trembled ; the tories 
 raved ; the whigs rejoiced, and, with the great Pitt 
 and Burke at their head, publicly applauded the Ame 
 ricans, and denounced the stamp-act as entirely con 
 trary to the spirit of British freedom. In short, the 
 ery against it was so loud, both in England and Ame 
 rica, that the ministry, covered with shame, were 
 obliged to give way, and abandon the project. 
 
 THE cloud, which had hung so dark over the two 
 countries, being thus happily scattered, many began 
 to cherish the hope, that we should have a clear skv 
 
64 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 again, and that the former golden days would soon 
 return. But alas ! those golden days were gone, to 
 return no more ! Government had shown the cloven 
 foot and America had taken a fright which nothing 
 but whole years of kindliest treatment could ever 
 sooth. But, unfortunately, the ministry were in no 
 humour to show that kindness. Long accustomed 
 to speak of the Americans as a pack of u convicts, 
 whom by transportation, they had kindly saved from 
 the gallorus" instead of giving them credit for their 
 late spirited behaviour, they considered it as the 
 height of audacity : and though from necessity they 
 had yielded to their demands, they were determined 
 to have revenge on the first opportunity. That op 
 portunity was too soon afforded. 
 
 IT should have been stated, that with the duty on 
 stamp paper, similar duties had been laid on glass, 
 tea, &c. &c. all of which had been repealed with the 
 stamp act, except that on tea. This the ministry had 
 artfully retained : partly to cover the shame of their 
 defeat, but chiefly in hopes of familiarizing- the Ame 
 ricans with taxation. For though Lord North was 
 never, that I know of, charged with being a wizard, 
 yet did he not lack sense to know that if he could 
 but prevail on the young Mammoth to submit to a 
 tax, though as small as a Gnat, he soon, should bring 
 him to swallow a Camel ! But glory to God ! the 
 Americans had too much of British blood, to allow 
 an unconstitutional tax in any shape or size. Inde 
 pendent and coy as the birds of their fort- sts, they 
 would not suifer a stranger s hand even to touch the 
 sacred nest of their rights. As soon therefore as 
 the ministry began, in 1773, to order "the collection 
 of taxes on tea*"* the colonies took fire again : and the 
 old flame of 53 was completely rekindled through 
 out the continent. But still ia the very storm and 
 tempest of their rage, they never lost sight of the 
 respect due their mother country. Their numerous 
 letters and petitions to the KING, to the PARLIA 
 MENT, and to the PEOPLE of Britain; all, all, breathe 
 the full spirit of dutiful children, and of loving 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 65 
 
 brothers. In terms the most modest and pathe 
 tic, they state the extreme injustice and barbarity of 
 such measures their total inconsistency with the 
 spirit of the British Constitution their positive in- 
 admissibility into America or, in that event, the 
 certainty of a civil war, with all its fatal effects on 
 the two countries. 
 
 TEMPERED with meekness, and pointed with truth, 
 their arguments reach the hearts of the British patri 
 ots, who all fly in eager myriads to extinguish the 
 kindling flames of civil war. Foremost of this no 
 ble band is seen the venerable form of Chatham. 
 Though worn with years and infirmities, he quits his 
 bed ; and, muffled up in flannels and furs, crawls to 
 the house of lords, to give his last advice, and yet 
 avert, if possible, the impending ruin. He rises to 
 speak. A solemn silence prevails, while the looks 
 of the crowded audience are bending forward upon 
 him, to catch the accents of his magic tongue. His 
 eyes are upon the ground : but his thoughts are not 
 there : they are travelling like sun-beams over all 
 the earth. Britain and America, with all their popu 
 lation and interests, lie open before his vast mind, 
 with the varied evils of the threatened war. In 
 Britain he beholds a fearful pause in the pulse of 
 industry and joy the loom is still the anvil re 
 sounds no more while the harbours, late alive with 
 bustling business and cheerful songs, now c/ fv ./:led 
 with silent dismantled ships, present a scene of na 
 tional mourning. In the colonies he sees the plains, 
 lately crowned with joyful harvests, now covered 
 with armed bands of Britons and Americans rush 
 ing to murderous battle while in Europe, the proud 
 Spaniard, the sarcastic Gaul, and broad grinning 
 Hollander, with shrugs and sneers enjoy the coming 
 fray, as a welcome prelude to the downfall of their 
 hated rival. He next paints the Americans as native 
 sons of Britain and, at once, enthusiastic lovers of 
 liberty and of their mother country ready, as her 
 children, to give her every thing ; but, as her slaves 
 
66 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 nothing. Though harshly treated, they still love her, 
 and wish for nothing so much as a hearty reconcilia 
 tion* and a glad return of all the former friendships 
 and blessings. At thought of this most desirable of 
 all events, the parent soul of the great orator is stir 
 red within him, his angel frame trembles with strong 
 feeling, which heaves his labouring bosom, and 
 swells his changeful face. At length his powerful 
 words break forth. 
 
 " FOR God s sake then, my lords, let the way be 
 " instantly opened for reconciliation. I say instantly ; 
 4t or it will be too late for ever. The Americans tell 
 * you and remember,it is the language of the whole 
 44 continent they tell you, they will neper submit to 
 44 be taxed without their own consent. They insist 
 u on a repeal of your laws. They do not ask it as A 
 44 favour. They claim it as a right. They demand it. 
 " And I tell you the acts must be repealed. They 
 " ^v^ll be repealed. You cannot enforce them. But 
 44 bare repeal will not satisfy this enlightened and spi- 
 44 rited people. What ! satisfy them by repealing a bit 
 44 of paper by repealing a piece of parchment ! No ! 
 * you must declare you have no right to tax them. 
 
 Then they may trust you then they will confide in 
 44 you. There are, my lords, three millions of whigs, 
 44 in America. Three millions of whigs, with arms 
 <4 in their hands, are a formidable body / There are, 
 44 I trust, double that number of whigs in England : 
 a And I hope the whigs in both countries will join 
 44 and make a common cause. They are united by 
 44 the strongest ties of sentiment and interest ; and 
 u will therefore, I hope, fly to support their brethren. 
 4 In this most alarming and distracted state of our 
 44 affairs, though borne down by a cruel disease, I 
 44 have crawled to this house, my lords, to give you 
 44 my best advice, which is, to beseech his majesty 
 44 that orders may instantly be dispatched to General 
 44 Gage to remove the troops from Boston. Their 
 " presence is a source of perpetual irritation and 
 " suspicion to those people. How can thev trust you, 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 67 
 
 * with the bayonet at their breasts ? They have all 
 44 the reason in the world to believe that you mean 
 44 their death or slavery. Let us then set to this bu 
 44 siness in earnest. There is no time to be lost. 
 44 Every moment is big with danger. Nay, while I 
 44 am now speaking; the decisive blow may be struck, 
 44 and millions involved in the dreadful consequen- 
 44 ces ! The very first drop of blood that is drawn, 
 44 will make a wound perhaps never to be healed 
 44 a wound of such rancorous malignity, as will, in 
 41 all probability, mortify the whole body, and hasten, 
 44 both on England and America, that dissolution 
 44 to which all nations are destined." 
 
 HERE was a speech, sufficient, one would have 
 thought, to stop the career of the maddest politicians. 
 But neither this, nor the advice of lord Camden, 
 nor the numerous and pathetic addresses from Lon 
 don, Liverpool, and Jamaica, could produce the least 
 change in the views of the ministry. u Let the Ame 
 ricans" said lord Gower with a sneer, 44 sit talk 
 ing about their natural rights ! their divine rights ! 
 and such stuff! -we will send them over a feiv regi 
 ments of grenadiers to help their consultations l n 
 Thus high-toned was the language of ministry, and 
 thus stoutly bent on the submission of the Ameri 
 cans. Indeed, in some instances, they would not 
 honour them so far as to give their u humble peti 
 tions" a reading ; but consigned them to what the 
 whig opposition pleasantly called, 44 the committee of 
 oblivion." 
 
 THE tea-tax was, of course, at any rate to be col 
 lected. But as there could be no tax without tea, nor 
 tea unless it was s^nt, several ships of that obnoxious 
 weed were purposely dispatched for America. Lord 
 Fairfax happened to be at Mount Vernon when 
 Washington received advice from a friend in London 
 that the tea-ships were about to sail.... 44 Well, my 
 lord" said he, 4t and so the ships, -with the gun-pow 
 der tea, are, it seems, on their way to America /" 
 
 44 Well, but colonel, "why do you call it gunpowder 
 tea?" 
 
68 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 " Why, I am afraid, my lord" replied Washing 
 ton, " it zvill prove inflammable, and produce an ex 
 plosion that -will shake both countries" 
 
 THE event corresponded with Washington s pre 
 diction. Looked on as sent to insult and enslave them, 
 the ships were every where received with the hearti 
 est curses of the people, who quickly boarded them 
 in some places furiously emptying their fragrant 
 cargoes into the flashing deep.. .in others, sternly 
 ordering the captains to depart, under the penalty of 
 being instantly tucked up to the yard arms. 
 
 ON the arrival of this news in England, the counte 
 nance of f ie minister was dark with fury; and he pro 
 ceeded, without delay, to mix up for the colonies a 
 cup of fiery indignation, of which Boston, it seems, 
 was to have the largest dose. As that most unduti- 
 ful child had always led off the dance in outrage and 
 rebellion against the parent state, it was determined 
 that she should pay the piper for old and new. ..that 
 her purse should answer for all the tea that had been 
 destroyed. ..that her luxuriant trade, which had made 
 her so wanton, should be taken from her and that, 
 in spite of her high looks and proud stomach, she 
 should sit on the stool of repentance, until his graci 
 ous majesty, George III. should be pleased to pro 
 nounce her pardon / / 
 
 ON the receipt of this intelligence at Boston, the 
 passions of the people flew up, five hundred degrees 
 aoove blood-heat! throughout the continent the fever 
 raged with equal fury. The colonies all extolled 
 Eoston for the firmness with which she had asserted 
 her chartered righ te.... Liberal contributions were 
 made for her relief: and this ministerial attack on her 
 liberties, was considered as an attack on the liberties 
 of the whole, which were now thought to be in such 
 danger, as loudly to call for a general congress from 
 all the colonies, to deliberate on their eommon inte 
 rest. This most ynkingly body commenced its ses 
 sion in Philadelphia, September 5th, 1774. They be 
 gan with publishing a bill of rights , wherein they 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 69 
 
 repeated * their loyalty and love to the mother coun 
 try, together with an earnest wish for constitutional 
 dependence on her. But, at the same time, they beg- 
 ged leave to assure her, that though she, in her ex 
 cessive fondness, might suffer herself to be bound 
 and insulted by North and Bute, and other Philis 
 tine lords, yet they, for their parts, were resolved, 
 like true sons of British Sampsons, to rise and fight 
 to the last locks of their heuds. They asserted, and 
 begged le;ve to d > it pretty roundly too, as it was 
 now high time to speak plain, that by the immutable 
 laivs of nature*.. hy the principles of the British con 
 stitution- -.and by their several charters, they had a 
 right to libi rty, the liberty of British subjects that 
 their evrr honored fathers, at the time of their emi 
 gration to this country, were entitled to all the 
 rights of freemen and since, by such emigration 
 they had neither forfeited nor surrendered these 
 rights that they their children, were determined, 
 at the risk of every thing short of their eternal sal 
 vation, to defend and to transmit them entire to 
 their innocent and beloved offspring." 
 
 MILLIONS of choice spirits in England, Scotland, 
 and Ireland, cried out " thafs ivell said! and may 
 GocVs arms strike with our American brethren ! 
 This was coming to the point, and produced the ef 
 fect that might have been expected. For, instantly 
 all exportation of arms and ammunition to America 
 was prohibited large reinforcements were sent to 
 the king s troops at Boston and every step was ta 
 ken to compel the colonies to submission. This fill 
 ed up the measure of American hatred to the minis 
 try, and called forth the most vigorous preparation* 
 for war. Every ounce of gunpowder was husbanded 
 like so much gold-dust. Powder-mills and musquet- 
 manufactories were erected in most of the colonies i f 
 while others, not liking this slow way of doing 
 things, laid violent hands at once upon all the king * 
 arms and ammunition that could be found. 
 G 
 
70 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 THE tremendous cloud of civil war was now rea 
 dy to burst: and April the 19th, 1775, w s the fatal 
 day m. irked out by mysterious heaven, for tearing 
 away the stout infant colonies from the long loved 
 paps of the old mother country. Early that morn 
 ing, general Gage, whose force in Boston was aug 
 mented to 1O,000 men, sent a detachment of 100O to 
 destroy some military stores which the Americans 
 had collected in the town of Concord, near Lexing 
 ton. On coming to the place, they found the town 
 militia assembled on the green near the road. 
 u Throw down your arms, and disperse^ you rebels" 
 was the cry of Pitcairn the British officer ; which 
 was immediately followed by a general discharge of 
 the soldiers ; whereby eight of the Americans were 
 killed, and several wounded. The provincials re 
 tired. But finding that the British still continued 
 their fire, they returned it with good interest ; and 
 soon strewed the green with the dead and wounded. 
 Such fierce discharges of musquetry produced the 
 effect that might have been expected in a land of 
 freemen, who saw their gallant brothers suddenly 
 engaged in the strife of death. Never before had 
 the bosoms ot the swains experienced such a tumult 
 of heroic passions. Then throwing aside the imple 
 ments of husbandry, and leaving their teams in the 
 half-finished furrows, they flew to* their houses $ 
 snatched up their arms ; and bursting from their wild 
 shrieking wives and children, hasted to the glorious 
 field where LIBERTY, heaven-born goddess, was to 
 be bought for blood. Pouring in now from every 
 quarter, were seen crowds of sturdy peasants, with 
 Gushed cheeks M\& faming eyes^ eager for battle* 
 Even age itself forgot its wonted infirmities : and 
 hands, long palsied with years, threw aside the 
 cushioned crutch,, and grasped the deadly firelock* 
 Fast as they, came up, their ready muskets began to 
 pour the long red streams of fiery vengeance. The 
 enemy fell back, appalled! The shouting farmers, 
 awiit closing on their rear, followed their s**:>s with 
 
Page 71. 
 
 Battle of Lexington. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 71 
 
 death, while the British, sis fast as thi-y could load, 
 wheeling on their pursue! s, nturntd the deadly pla 
 toons. Like some tremendous whirlwind, whose 
 roaring sweep all at once darkens the day, riding the 
 air in tempests ; so, sudden and terrible, amidst 
 clouds of dust, and smoke, and flame, the flight of 
 Britain s warriors thundered along the road. But 
 their flight was not in safety. Every step of their 
 retreat was stained with the trickling crimson. Eve 
 ry hedge or fence by which they passed, took large 
 toll ot hostile carcasses. They would, in all proba 
 bility, have been cut off to a man, had not general 
 Gage, luckily recollected, that,0r/z of Britons, these 
 Yankees might possess some of the family valour; 
 and therefore sent 100O men to support the detach 
 ment. This reinforcement met the poor fellows, 
 faint with fear and fatigue, and brought them sa.lt 
 ly off to Boston. 
 
 IN this their first field, the American farnv rs 
 gleaned of the British about sixty-three, in slain, ^nd 
 two hundred and eighty wounded and prison* rs, 
 The fire of civil discord now broke out a roari- g 
 flame: and, with equal ardour, both parties hast.n. 
 cd to clap on the " kettle of war" 
 
 National prejudices ought to be scouted from the 
 face of the earth. Colonel Grant actually said in 
 parliament, that " with five regiments he could mat < // 
 through all America! ! /" Oh ! had that profou- d 
 philosopher but beheld the SCRUB RACE above, he 
 .might have learned two Mz;?\s... first, that he was 
 never born to be a prophet. And secondly, that it 
 is not to this or that country exclusively, that wt> are 
 to look for brave men, but in every country where 
 the people are accustomed to breathe the proud <air 
 of liberty, and to rejoice in the sweet fruits of their 
 labours as all their own* 
 
 SOON as the battle of Lexington was told to the 
 
 astonished ministry in England, a grand caucus of 
 
 lords was held, to consider the best ways and mt<i) t t 
 
 to bring the rebels to their senses. u One spoke 
 
 G3 
 
72 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 after this manner, and another aft? r that." Presently 
 up rose lord Gtorge Gtrmaine, and with all Mu- 
 locl- in his looks, huil* dthe cursesof AmaK k against 
 the Ann i leans. " Vengeance ! gentlemen !" he cri 
 ed/ veng-ance! your insulted ishud your wound 
 ed honour ycur murdered countrymen all cry 
 havoc / and bid slip the dogs ot war. Gods ! can we 
 sit di bating here, when rank rebellion loids it over 
 our colonies, and the tongues of rebel cms arc rtdin 
 the blood of our bravest soldiers slain. No ! let our 
 swift-avenging armies fly across the ocean, and tight- 
 ing like a tornado on the rebel continent, from end to 
 end, with fire and sword sweep both town and 
 country before them." 
 
 HERE the celebrated Mr. Wilkes, in the spirit of 
 a TRUE BRITON, roared out : " Aye, that s right ! 
 that s right ! lord George ! that s exactly according 
 
 to our old English proverb the greater the cto- 
 
 ar</, the crueller the devil I" 
 
 "Co-ward! Sir ! replied lord George, black with 
 rage. " Coward ! what do you mean by that^ sir ? n 
 
 44 I mean^ r," returned Mr. Wilkes, .-* that tht 
 hero who could not stand fire on the plums of M mden$ 
 does well to advise Jit e and swoi d in the woods &f 
 America" 
 
 UPON this, the unlovely names of liar and sc&u-n- 
 dr*l were exchanged with freedom which showed 
 (hat in the quarrel with America the passions ofihe 
 two parties knew no bounds. Happily for America, 
 this spirit of Mr. Wilkes was not peculiar to him 
 self. Thousands of enlightened and virtuous whig* 
 breathed it with equal ardour. The gallant duke i 
 Buckingham, on hearing, how bravely the Ameri 
 cans had behaved at Lexington, exclaimed, " WtiL t 
 thank God ! there are yet some wins in the world that 
 beat high with British blood. * 
 
 Lord Effingham, also, being required to take a| 
 arms against the Americans, returned his swovd to 
 the king, saying, " ke had received it on Krth, l.t 
 maintain the cause 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON 73 
 
 BUT though the right heads in England were nu 
 merous, they were not sufficiently so to direct the 
 wrong heads A feeble minister, and his puny 
 lord/ings, s.ill heU the reins : and though, compar 
 ed with the great nation which they governed, they 
 seemed but as monkeys on the back of a mammoth, 
 yet they had, too long, the fatal art so to blindiold 
 and goad the noble animal, as to make her run riot 
 over her own children, and crush thousands of them 
 into their bloody graves. 
 
 ON this day, June 12, 1775, general Gage issued 
 his proclamation of rebellion, with threats of heaviest 
 vengeance against the rebels ; extending however in 
 the king s name, the golden sceptre of mercy to all 
 true penitents, Samuel Adams, and John Hancock, 
 excepted. These gentlemen, by their extraordinary 
 zeal in the cause of liberty, had so mortally offended 
 the ministry, that nothing short of their lives could 
 make atonement. Orders were sent privately to Ge 
 neral Gage, to seize and hang them in Boston, or to 
 send them over in irons to be hung in England. But 
 God gave his angels charge of them, so that not a 
 hair of their heads was hurt. 
 
 THE British, 10,000 strong, were still in Boston, 
 where, ever since the affair of Concord, they had 
 been surrounded by an army of 2O,OOO provincials, 
 all so eager to tK:e the city by storm^ that it was with 
 the greatest difficulty their officers could restrain 
 them* 
 
 How adorable the goodness of God for ordering; 
 that the ministerial attack on our liberties, should fall 
 .en the populous and high-toned New-Englanders ! 
 The heroic spirit with which they repelled it, should, 
 to eternity, endear them to their southern brethren. 
 
74 j.iFK OK WASHINGTON. 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 Battle of Bunker* x-h ill of Si///h fin s I* land Decla 
 ration of IndrprndeiH t Dr/ rat of the Jmrricuns 
 on Long- Island Uoive threatens violently Times 
 
 And fame of Bunker s hill endure, 
 Till time itself shall be no more. 
 
 THIS hill of fame still lifts his yellow brow, half 
 hid in sedge, on the plains of fiharlestown a lovely 
 port north of Boston, to which it is united by an ele 
 gant bridge. To confine the British as closely as 
 possible to Boston, the American generals, on the 
 night of June 16, dispatched 150O men to throw up 
 an entrenchment on Bunker s-hill. The party did 
 not begin their work till about 12 o clock; but ex 
 erted such a spirit, that, by day-break, they had sur 
 rounded themselves with a tolerably decent ditch 
 without embrasures indeed, because they had no 
 cannon to stare through them ; nor even a bayonet to 
 bristle over its ridges. 
 
 SOON as the rosy morn appeared, they were disco* 
 vered by the British men oi war, which quickly salu 
 ted them with their great guns and mortars. But, re 
 gardless of shells and shot, the dauntless Yankees 
 till drank their Switched and plied their work. 
 
 * A mild moralizing malmsey, made of molasses 
 imd water, which the prudent Yankees drink, to the 
 great benefit of their health and senses, while too viany 
 of their southern neighbours are be-fooling and be- 
 poisoning themselves with grog. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 73 
 
 FINDING that his ships of war, with all their thun 
 ders, had not beer, able to dislodge them, Gage or 
 dered to their aid 3000 men with a train of artillery, 
 under command of Generals Howe and Pigot. By 
 twelve o clock they were all safely landed on the 
 Charlestown side, near BunkerVhill, the destined 
 place of storm. An interesting scene is now about to 
 open for not only the British and American armies 
 from the neighbouring heights, are eagerly looking 
 n ; but all the surrounding country, timely alarmed, 
 ire running together, in terror, to behold the coming 
 ght. Among the crowding spectators are seen thou 
 sands of tender females, with panting bosoms and 
 watery eyes, fixed upon the fields below, anxiously 
 waiting the fute of their Brothers, Fathers, and hus 
 bands. After a hurried moment spent in forming, 
 the British troops began to advance in heavy columns, 
 with all the martial pomp of flying colours and rattling 
 drums. At the same time, by order of Gage, the 
 beautiful port of Charlestown, of 300 fine buildings, 
 with a tall steepled church, was wrapped in flames, 
 roaring like distant thunder, and tossed on eddying 
 winds in fiery billows to the clouds while far and 
 wide, the adjoining plains are covered \\ith British 
 oldiers in crimson regimentals and shining arms, 
 moving on the attack with incessant discharges of 
 muskets and great guns. Close, on the brow of the 
 hill, appears the little fort, dimly seen through smoke, 
 and waved over by one solitary flag, and very unlike 
 to sti nd the shock of so powerful an armnment. But 
 the Americans are all wound up to the height of the 
 enthusiasm of Liberty: and, lying close behind their 
 works, v ith fowling pieces loaded with ball and buck- 
 thot, wait impatiently for the approaching eneiry. 
 Their brave countrymen, Putnam and Warren, are 
 in the fort, constantly reminding them of that glorious 
 inheritance, Liberty, which they received from their 
 gallant fathers, and now owe to their own dear chil 
 dren. 44 Don j f throw mvay a single shot^ my bruvc 
 r r//07 A," said old Putnam. " DoiCt throiv away (tain- 
 
T6 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 gle shot ; but take g 00 d aim : nor touch a trigger ^ tiU 
 you can tee the whites of their eyes" 
 
 THIS steady reserve of fire, even after the British 
 had come up within pistol-shot, led them to hope that 
 the Americans did not mean to resht and many of 
 their friends on the heights had nearly given up all for 
 lost. But as soon as the enemy were advanced within 
 the fatal distance marked, all at once a thousand trig 
 gers were drawn : and a sheet of fire, wide as the 
 whole front of the breast- work, bursted upon them 
 with most ruinous effect. The British instantly came 
 to a halt still keeping up their fire but altogether 
 at random and ineffectual, like men in a panic. While 
 full exposed, within point-blank shot, ranks on ranks 
 fell before the American marksmen, as the heavy- 
 eared corn before the devouiing hail-storm, when 
 with whirlwind rage it smites the trembling earth, 
 and rushes on, smoking and roaring through the de 
 solated fields. The enemy still maintained their 
 ground like Britons, though all in front was nothing 
 but one wide destructive flash ; and nought around 
 but heaps of their shrieking, dying comrades. But in 
 a few minutes the slaughter became so general, that 
 they could stand it no longer, nit broke and fled in the 
 utmost disorder, to the shore side ; and some even 
 took refuge in their boats ! Their officers with some 
 difficulty brought them back to a second charge, when 
 the Americans waiting till they had come tip within 
 a few rods of the fort, recommenced their ftre, with a 
 mortality which broke and drove them again. Some 
 of the (\ricers attempted to bring them on a third time; 
 but orlvrs cried out, u that it TW/.V no hetter than 
 murder. " It is probable they would ha d v have 
 Triads another effort, had not the generals Clinton and 
 Burgovne, spectators of their defeat, hastened over 
 from B >ston with fresh troops to their aid. 
 
 THE A nc:ricans, being nearly destitute of ammti- 
 n uion, an:l attacked bv such superior force, were oh* 
 liged to retreat, which they diJ in tolerable order, but 
 
Battle of Bunker s 
 

LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 77 
 
 not till they had given the enemy, as they mounted the 
 works, their last cartridges, and to some of them the 
 buts of their guns. ..for want of bayonets. The Bri 
 tish, tis true, by such great advantage of numbers 
 and weapons, gained the day ; but sung no te deum* 
 To have given 1350 men killed and wounded, for a 
 poor ditch of 12 hours labour, seemed to them a bar 
 gain hardly worth thanking God for. 
 
 AMONG the Heroes whom this day immolated on 
 the altar of Patriotism, was Dr. Joseph Warren, 
 whose memory will be held sacred as long as gratitude 
 or honour live among men. The British lost Major 
 Pitcairn, author of the murders at Lexington a few 
 weeks before ! 
 
 DURING the autumn and winter of 1775, Wash 
 ington could effect nothing against the British, but to 
 hold them close confined in Boston, where the scurvy 
 prevailed, and proved very fatal. To remedy this 
 evil, immense quantities of live stock and vegetables 
 were shipped from Britain 5,000 fat oxen ; 14,OOO 
 sheep.. .12,000 hogs, with 22,000 pounds sterling 
 worth of sour-crout ! ! ! And nearly the same amount 
 in hay, oats and beans, for a single regiment of ca 
 valry ! ! u Blesstd are the^ meek /" for they shall save 
 a world of expense. 
 
 IN consequence of some disturbances this year, in 
 South-Carolina, in favour of the ministry, Sir Peter 
 Parker was dispatched with nine ships of war, and 
 a large land force, commanded by Clinton and Corn- 
 wallis, to make an attempt on Charleston, the capi 
 tal. Before the ships could be brought to pay their 
 respects to the town, they must, it seems, pass a lit 
 tle fort on Sullivan s Island. This, however, being 
 defended only by raw militia, was hardly looked on as 
 an obstacle. Happily for America, the command of 
 the fort had been committed to general Moultrie; for 
 the chief in command, Gen. Charles Lee, though 
 otherwise brave, was ever in the frights at the thought 
 of a British man of war ; and for a.gcnera!, much too 
 free in lending his fears to others. For, while Moul- 
 H 
 
78 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 trie was showing him the fort, and in the language of 
 a fiery patriot, was boasting what handsome resist 
 ance he hoped it would make ; Lee with infinite scorn 
 replied, " Pshaw ! a mere slaughter house ! a mere 
 slaughter house ! a British man of war will knock it 
 about your ears in half an hour !" He even proposed 
 to abandon the fort ! The courage of one man saved 
 Charleston, and perhaps the State. That fortunate 
 man was John Rutledge, Esq. governor of South- 
 Carolina. He insisted that the fort should be defend 
 ed to the last extremity. Moultrie was called in. 
 " Well, general Moultrie," said gov. Rutledge, 
 " what do you think of giving up the fort ?" Moultrie 
 could scarcely suppress his indignation. " No man^ 
 sir," said he to Lee, " can have a higher opinion of 
 the British ships and seamen than I have. But there 
 are others who love the smell of gunpowder as well as 
 they do ; and give us but plenty of powder and ball, 
 sir, and let them come on as soon as they please." His 
 courage was quickly put to the test; for about 1O 
 o clock, on the 28th of June, in the glorious 1776, 
 sir Peter Parker, with seven tall ships formed his 
 line, and bearing down within point-blank shot of the 
 fort, let go his anchors and began a tremendous fire. 
 At every thundering blast he fondly hoped to see the 
 militia take to the sands like frightened rats from an 
 old barn on fire. But, widely different from his hopes, 
 the militia stood their ground, firm as the Black-jacks 
 of their land; and levelling their four-and-twenty 
 pounders with good aim bored the old hearts of oak 
 through and through at every fire. Their third broad 
 side carried away the springs on the cables of the com 
 modore s ship, which immediately swung around 
 right stern upon the guns of the fort " Hurra ! my 
 sons of thunder," was instantly the cry along the Ame 
 rican battery, " look handsomely to the commodore ! 
 now mv boys, for your best respects to the commo 
 dore !" Little did the commodore thank them for such 
 respects , for in a short time he had 60 of his brave crew 
 lying lifeless on his decks, and his cockpit stowed with 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 79 
 
 the wounded. At one period of the action, the quar 
 ter-deck was cleared of every soul, except Sir Peter 
 himself. Nor was he entirely excused : for an ho 
 nest cannon-ball, by v/ay of broad hint that it was out 
 of character for a Briton to fight against liberty, rude 
 ly snatched away the bag of his silk breeches. Thus 
 Sir Peter had the honour to be the first, and I believe 
 the only Sans Culotte ever heard of in American na 
 tural history ! ! 
 
 THE Americans stood the fire like SALAMANDERS ; 
 or the neighbouring shores were lined with thousands 
 of their dearest relatives, anxiously looking on ! the 
 British tars, poor fellows ! had no sisters, mothers, 
 nor wives, spectators of their strife ; but fought, not 
 withstanding, with their wonted heroism. Long ac 
 customed to mastery in battles with the French, and 
 greatly out-numbering the fort both in men and guns, 
 they counted on certain victory ; and tho dreadfully 
 handled, scorned to yield. Immense were the ex 
 ertions on both sides ; and while the powder of the 
 fort lasted, the conflict was awfully grand From 
 ships to fort, and from fort to ships again, all below 
 seemed one stream of solid fire ; all above, 0ne vast 
 mountain of smoke darkening the day, while uninter- 
 tnitted bursts of thunder deafened all ears, and far 
 around shook both land and sea. 
 
 THE heroes in the fort won immortal honour. One 
 brave fellow, a Serjeant Jasper, observing the flag 
 staff shot away, jumped down from the fort rn the 
 beach, in the hottest fury of the battle, and snatching 
 up the flag, returned it to its place, streaming defi 
 ance, with a " Hurra, my boys, liberty and America 
 for ever." Governor Ilutledge rewarded him with a 
 sword. Another Serjeant, McDonald, while roaring 
 away with his 24 pounder, was terribly shuttered by a 
 cannon ball. When about to expire, he lifted up his 
 dying eyes and said " My brave countrymen, I die ; 
 but don t let the cause of Liberty die with me." Now 
 louder and louder still, peal on peal, the American 
 thunder burst forth with earth-trembling crashes : and 
 the British ships, after a long and gallant struggles 
 
80 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 hauled off with a good fortnight s worth of work for 
 surgeons, carpenters and riggers. 
 
 SIR Peter was so dumb-founded by this drubbing, 
 that it took him full eight-and-forty hours to recover 
 his stomach for his beef and pudding. So wonderful 
 ly had it lethim-down, that even his black pilots grew 
 impudent upon him. For as he was going out over 
 the bar, he called to Cudjo (a black fellow, a pilot 
 who was sounding the depth of the water) u Cud 
 jo ! (says he) what water have you got. there ?" 
 
 u WHAT water, massa ? what water? why salt wa 
 ter, be sure sir !...sea water ahvay salt water, an t he, 
 massa?" 
 
 u You black rascal, I knew it was salt water. I only 
 wanted to know how much water you have there ?" 
 
 " How much water here, massa ? how much water 
 here ! God bless me, massa ! where I going get quart 
 pot for measure him ?" 
 
 THIS was right down impudence; and Cudjo richly 
 deserved a rope s end for it: but Sir Peter, a good 
 natured man, was so tickled with the idea of measur 
 ing the Atlantic ocean with a quart pot, that he broke 
 into a hearty laugh, and ordered Cudjo a stiff drink 
 of grog. 
 
 TWAS the celebrated Samuel Chase, the Demos 
 thenes of Maryland, who first taught the startled 
 vaults of Congress hall to re-echo the n-ame of Inde 
 pendence. After enumerating many a glaring instance 
 of ministerial violation of American rights on all of 
 which George the Third, the expected father of his 
 people, had looked with a most unfatherly calmness 
 his countenance became like the dark stormy cloud 
 edg d with lightning then swinging his arm in the 
 air, with a tremendous stamp and voice of thunder, 
 
 that made the hollow dome resound, he swore > 
 
 a mighty oath, u that he owed no allegiance to the king 
 of England!" 
 
 MANY in Congress trembled at hearing such a 
 speech ; and, on me ition of Independence, felt the 
 pa. g xv.^kh nature feels when soul and body are 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 81 
 
 parting. But fearing that " true friendship could ne 
 ver grow again, where wounds of deadly hate haa 
 pierced so deep" they at length resolved to part. The 
 gentlemen appointed by Congress to frame the de 
 claration of Independence, were THOMAS JEFFERSON, 
 JOHN ADAMS, Dr. FRANKLIN, R. SHERMAN and R. 
 R. LIVINGSTON. On hearing their nomination to a 
 task so high and arduous, they met ; and after some 
 conversation on the subject, parted, under the agree 
 ment that each of their number should draft his own 
 declaration, and read it next day, in rotation to the 
 rest. At the fixed hour next day, they met but 
 " who should read first" was the question. Mr. 
 Jefferson was fixed on ; and, after much importunity, 
 consented to read his form, which had the honour to 
 give such complete satisfaction, that none other was 
 read. 
 
 A FEW days after this, Lord Howe came upon the 
 coast with a forest of men of war and transports, sha 
 ding far and wide the frightened ocean, and bearing 
 nearly 40,000 men, British, Hessians, and Waldeck- 
 ers. Supposing that this had intimidated the Ameri 
 can commander, Lord Howe wrote a letter to him, 
 directed u George Washington, Esq" This the ge 
 neral refused to receive ! looking on it as an insult to 
 Congress under whom he had the honour to bear the 
 commission of Commander in Chief, and should have 
 been addressed as such. General Howe then sent an 
 officer (Colonel Patterson) to converse with him on 
 the subject of reconciliation Having heard what he 
 had to say, Washington replied, " by what has yet 
 appeared, sir, you have no power but to grant pardons. 
 But we, -who have committed no faults, want no par 
 dons ; for we are only fghtingfor our rights as the 
 descendants of Englishmen" 
 
 THE unfortunate defeat of Long-Island now took 
 
 place on August 28th, which, though the hottest day 
 
 in the year, had like to have been the freezing point 
 
 in the American affairs. For on this day, the British 
 
 H 2 
 
82 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 with an infinite superiority of force, after having 
 defeated the Americans with great loss, were invest 
 ing the slender remains of their army ; and had ac 
 tually bioke ground within six hundred yards of the 
 little redoubt vhat feebly covered their front. Soon 
 as it was dark, Washington ordered the troops to 
 convey th~ir baggage and artillery to the water side, 
 whence it was transported over a broad ferry all night 
 long, with amazing silence and order. Providentially 
 a thick fog continued next morning till ten o clock ; 
 when that passed away, and the sun broke out, the 
 British were equally surprised and enraged to see the 
 rear guard with the last of the baggage in their boats, 
 and out of all danger. 
 
 LORD Howe, supposing that such a run of misfor 
 tunes must have put congress into a good humour to 
 think about peace, signified a willingness to have a 
 grand talk on the subject. Congress sent Dr. Frank 
 lin, Mr. Adams, and Mr. Rutledge, each with his 
 belt of wampum. But finding that his lordship was 
 still harping on the old string, pardons! pardons ! 
 they very soon closed the conference. 
 
 TOWARDS the close of this trying campaign, it is 
 a fact, that Washington had not 300O men ; and even 
 these were so destitute of necessaries, that nothing 
 but their love and veneration for him kept them to 
 gether. And with this handful he had to oppose a 
 victorious army, of nearly forty thousand veterans ! ! 
 But Jehovah, the God of Hosts, was with him : and 
 oft times, in the ear of the slumbering hero,Afis voice 
 was heard, "fear not; for lamivith thee. 6e not dis 
 mayed ; for I am thy God. 1 Hence under all the dis 
 heartening circumstances of this campaign, Washing 
 ton not only kept up his own spirits, but cheered those 
 of his drooping comrades. Hearing his officers one 
 day talk about the gloominess of the American affairs 
 he humorously clasped his neck with his hands, and 
 said with a smile, u I really cannot believe yet, that 
 mtf neck was ever made for a halter ! 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 83 
 
 FOR four months, during the summer and fall of 
 1776, the Americans were obliged to retreat before 
 the enemy, who completely over-ran the Jerseys, fill 
 ing every town and hamlet with their victorious troops 
 During their pursuit through the Jerseys, the be 
 haviour of the Hessians towards the country people 
 was barbarous in the extreme. To make them fight 
 the better, it seems they had been told that the Ame 
 ricans, against whom they were warring, were not 
 (like the Europeans) Christians and gentlemen, but 
 mere savages, a race of Cannibals, who would not on 
 ly tomahawk a poor Hessian, and haul off his hide for 
 a druris head, but would just as lieve barbacue and 
 eat him as they would a pig. " Vat ! Vat /" cried 
 the Waldeckers, with eyes staring wild and big as 
 billiard balls, " Vat ! eat Hessian man up like vun 
 hog ! Oh mine God and Vader ! vot peoples ever bin 
 heard of eat Christian man before ! Vy ! shure, des 
 Mericans must be de deble." 
 
 Tins was Hessian logic : and it inspired them with 
 the utmost abhorrence of the Americans, to whom 
 they thought the worst treatment much too good 
 they burnt houses destroyed furniture killed the 
 stock abused the -women ! and spread consternation 
 and ruin along all their march. 
 
 To save their families from such horrid tragedies, 
 the Americans flocked in by thousands to general 
 Howe, to take the oath of allegiance. And the best 
 judges were of opinion, that this alarming apostacy 
 would soon become general throughout the two great 
 states of Pennsylvania and New-Jersey] And indeed 
 no wonder ; for to most people it appeared that the 
 cause of liberty was a gone cause* But, still firm as 
 the iron rudder-bands that maintain the course of the 
 ship in her trembling flight over raging seas, so firm 
 ly did Washington cleave to his countrymen, and co 
 ver their retreat. 
 
 THEY had been obliged to retreat from Long- 
 Island to New-York, from New-York, over the Hud 
 son, to New-Jersev, and now over the Delaware, to 
 
84 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Pennsylvania. " My God ! general Washington, how 
 44 long shall we retreat ?" said general Reed, u where 
 44 shall we stop ?" " Why sir," replied Washington, 
 44 if we can do no better, we ll retreat over every ri- 
 41 ver in America ; and last of all over the mountains, 
 4< whence we shall never lack opportunities to annoy, 
 44 and finally, I hope, to expel the enemies of our 
 44 country." 
 
 BUT, God be thanked, our toils and trials were not 
 to be pushed to such sad extremities : for general 
 Howe, having driven the Americans to the western 
 side of the Delaware, stationed 4000 men in Trenton, 
 Bordentown, and Burlington, on its eastern bank; and 
 then returned with the main army to eat their winter 
 puddings in Brunswick and New- York. Here, Wash 
 ington, with joy, first discovered an opportunity to 
 make a blow. Not doubting, but that such a long 
 run of success had taught the enemy to think very 
 highly of themselves, and as meanly of the Americans; 
 and suspecting, too, that at Christmas, which was 
 close at hand, instead of watching and praying like 
 good Christians, they would, very likely, be drinking 
 and hopping like- fools, he determined then and there 
 if possible to break up their winter quarters. To this 
 end he broke his little remnant of an army into three 
 divisions ; two of which he committed to generals 
 Ewing and Cadwallader to attack at Bordentown and 
 Burlington. The third he meant to lead in person to 
 the heavier charge on Trenton. Every thing being 
 in readiness by Christmas night, as soon as it was dark, 
 they struck their tents, and moved off in high spirits, 
 once more to try their fortune against an enemy long 
 victorious. But alas ! the enthusiasm of the gallant 
 Cadwallader and Ewing was soon arrested ; for on 
 arriving at the river, they found it so filled with 
 ice, as to preclude all possibility of crossing. 
 Thus, to their inexpressible grief, was blasted the 
 ardent wish to aid their beloved chief in this 
 his last bold attempt to save America. Tgnorant 
 of the failure of two-thirds of his plan, Washington 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 85 
 
 and his little forlorn hope, pressed on through the 
 darksome night, pelted by an incessant storm of hail 
 and snow. On approaching the river, nine mi es a 
 Love Trenton, they heard the unwe come roar of ice, 
 loud crashing along the angry flood. But the object 
 before them was too vast to allow one thought about 
 difficulties. The troops were instantly embarked, 
 and after five hours of infinite toil and danger, land 
 ed, some of them frost-bitten, on the same shores 
 with the enemy. Forming the line, they renewed 
 their march. Pah, and slowly moving a ] ong the 
 neighbouring hills was seen, (by Fancy s eye) the 
 weeping GENIUS OF LIBERTY. Driven from the 
 rest of the world, she had fled to the wild woods of 
 
 America, as to an assured asylum of rest. 
 
 Here she fondly hoped, through long unfailing time, 
 to see her children pursuing their cheerful toils, un- 
 starvedand uncrushed by the INHUMAN FEW. But 
 alas ! the inhuman few, with fleets and armies, had 
 pursued her flight ! Her sons had gathered around 
 her, but they had failed some, on their bloody beds ; 
 others dispersed ; all desponding. One little band alone 
 remained! and, now, resolved to defer.d her or perish, 
 were in rapid march to face her foes. Paleand in tears, 
 with eyes often lifted to Heaven, she moved along 
 with her children to witness perhaps the last conflict. 
 THE Sun had just tipt with gold the adjacent hills, 
 when snowy Trenton, with the wide-tented fields of 
 the foe, hove in sight. To the young in arms this was 
 an awful scene : and Nature called a short-lived ter 
 ror to their hearts. But not unseen of Washington 
 was their fear. He marked the sudden paleness of 
 their cheeks, when first they beheld the enemy, and 
 quick, with half-stifled sighs, turned on him their 
 wistful "ooks. As the big lion of Zara, calling his 
 brindled sons to battle against the mighty rhinoceros 
 if he mark their falling manes, and sees them crouch 
 ing to his side, instantly puts on all bis terrors his 
 eyes roll in blood he shakes the forest with the 
 
86 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 deepening roar, till, kindled by their fathers fire, the 
 maddening cubs swell with answering rage, and 
 spring undaunted on the monster. Thus stately and 
 terrible rode ColumMs first and greatest son, along 
 the front of his halting troops. The eager wish for 
 battle flushed over his burning face, as, rising on his 
 stirrups, he waved his sword towards the hostile 
 camp, and exclaimed, " There ! my brave friends ! 
 there are the enemies of your country / and now, all 
 I ask of you, is, just to remember "what you are about 
 tofghtfor. March!" His looks and voice rekindled 
 all their fire, and drove them undaunted to the 
 charge. The enemy saw their danger when it was 
 too late ! but, as if resolved by taxing their courage, 
 to pay for their carelessness, they roused the thunder 
 of their drums, and flew to arms. But before they 
 could form, the Americans, led on by Washington, 
 advanced upon them in a stream of lightning, which 
 soon decided the contest. By the musket of the in 
 trepid captain (now general) Frelinghuysen, of New- 
 Jersey, fell Col. Rahl, a brave German who com 
 manded the enemy. The ghosts of forty of his coun 
 trymen accompanied him ; and very nearly one 
 thousand were made prisoners. Five hundred 
 British horse effected their escape to Bordenton. 
 Could Ewing and Cadwallader have crossed the 
 river, agreeably to Washington s p an, the enemy s 
 whole line of cantonments would have bc^n com 
 pletely swept ! ! 
 
 To rouse his desponding countrymen Washing 
 ton immediately marched down to Philadelphia, and 
 made triumphal entry with his prisoners, preceded 
 by their cannon and colours, and wagons, bristling 
 with muskets and bayonets. The poor tories could 
 scarcely believe their own eyes. Many of the whigs 
 wept for joy. 
 
 To remove from the minds of the Hessians, their 
 ill-grounded dread of the Americans, Washington 
 took great care, from the moment they fell into his 
 hands, to have them treated with utmost tender- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 87 
 
 ness and generosity. He contrived that the wealthy 
 Dutch farmers should come in from the country and 
 converse with them. They seemed very agreeably 
 surprised at such friendly attentions. The Dutchmen 
 at length proposed to them to quit the British service 
 
 and become farmers At this the Hessians paused 
 
 a little, and said someihing about parting with their 
 country. 
 
 u Tour country!" said the farmers, "Poor fellows! 
 44 where is your country ? You have no country. To 
 44 support his pomps and pleasures your prince has 
 44 torn you from your country, and for 30/. a-head 
 41 sold you like slaves to fight against us, who never 
 41 troubled you. Then leave the vile employment and 
 44 come live with us. Our lands are rich. Come help 
 44 us to cultivate them. Our tables are covered with 
 44 fat meats, and with milk and honey. Come sit 
 44 down and eat with us like brothers. Ourdaughters 
 44 are young and beautiful and good. Then shew 
 44 yourselves worthy, and you shall have our daugh- 
 44 ters : and we will give you of our lands and cattle, 
 44 that you may work, and become rich and happy as 
 44 we are. You were told that General Washington 
 44 and the Americans were savages and would de- 
 14 vour you ! But from the moment you threw down 
 *your arms, have they not been as kind to you as 
 * you had any right to expect ?" 
 
 " O YES !" cried they," and a thousand times more 
 44 kind than we deserved. We were told the Ameri- 
 44 cans would show us no pity, and so we were cruel 
 44 to them. But we are sorry for it now, since they 
 44 have been so good to us : and now we love the 
 44 Americans, and will never fight against them any 
 44 more !" 
 
 SUCH was the effect of Washington s policy ; the 
 divine policy of doing good for evil. It melted down 
 his iron enemies into golden friends. It caused the 
 Hessian soldiers to join with the American farmers! 
 ....not only so, but to write such letters to their coun- 
 
88 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 try men, that they were constantly breaking loose 
 from the British to run over to the Americans.. ..in 
 somuch that in a little time the British would hard 
 ly trust a Hessian to stand sentinel ! 
 
 THOUGH this victory was gained on the 26th of 
 December, yet we find Washington again, on the 1st 
 of January, across the angry Delaware, with his 
 country s flag bold waving over the heights of Tren 
 ton. Lord Cornwallis advanced in great force to 
 attack him. The Americans retreated through the 
 town, and crossing the Sanpink (a creek that runs 
 along its eastern sidr) planted their cannon near the 
 ford, to defend its passage. The British army fol 
 lowing, close in their rear, entered the town about 4 
 o clock ; and a heavy cannonade commenced between 
 the two armies, which were separated only by the 
 Sanpink and its narrow vailey. " Now, sir !" said 
 sir VV illiam Erskine to Cornwallis, <k now is the 
 time to make sure of Washington." 
 
 " OH NO !" replied Cornwallis, u our troops have 
 u marched a good way to day and are tired. And the 
 u old fox can t make his escape ; for, with the help of 
 " the Delaware now filled up with ice, we have com- 
 u plet ly surrounded him. To-morrow morning, 
 " fresh and fasting, we ll fall upon him, and take 
 Ci him and his ragamuffins all at once !" 
 
 u AH ! my Lord!" returned sir William, kt if 
 " Washington be the soldier that I fear he ?*, you ll 
 u not see him there tomorrow miming / * 
 
 NIGHT coming on, the artillery ceased to roar ; 
 and .ighting up their firt s, both armies proceeded to 
 supper and to sleep. About midnight, having re 
 newed alt the fires, Washington put his little army 
 in motion, and passing along the enemy s rear, 
 hasted to surprise a large body of their troops at 
 Princeton. Soon as it was day, Cornwallis was 
 grt-aty mortified to find there was no American ar 
 my on the banks of the Sanpink. u That s exactly 
 -what I feared" said sir William. Just as they were 
 in deep thought on the matter, they heard the roar 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 89 
 
 of Washington s cannon at Princeton. " There" 
 continued sir William, " There is Washington now, 
 cutting- up our troops" And so it was ; for on arriv 
 ing at Princeton, about sun-rise, Washington met 
 three British regiments, who had just struck their 
 tents, and were coming on in high spirits to attack 
 him at Trenton. In a moment, both parties attacked 
 like heroes. At the first onset the Americans gave 
 way ; but sensible that all was at stake, Washington 
 snatched a standard, and advancing on the enemy, 
 called to his countrymen to follow : his countrymen 
 heard, and rushed on to the charge. Then flash and 
 clash went the muskets and bayonets. Here the 
 servants of George, and there the sons of liberty, 
 wrapped in clouds and flames, and inflicting mutual 
 wounds. 
 
 * l GOD save the king !" the British heroes cry d, 
 u And God for Washington !" Columbia s sons 
 
 reply d. 
 
 THE name of Washington imparted its usual ani 
 mation to his troops. The enemy gave way in all 
 quarters, and were pursued four miles. The victors 
 returned with 400 prisoners ; the bayonet had stopped 
 1 20 on the field. But they fell not alone. The gallant 
 Mercer, and sixty three of his brave countrymen 
 sleep with them. But the strife of the heroes was 
 but for a moment; and they have forgotten their 
 wounds. Together now, they feast in Paradise, and 
 when meet their eyes of love, their joys are not dash 
 ed by the remembrance of the past. 
 
 THE British officers gave Washington full credit 
 for such fine strokes of generalship, and began to 
 look thoughtful whenever his name was mentioned. 
 THE- enemy on the 15th of January drew in all 
 their forces to winter-quarters at Brunswick, where 
 Washington continued to thin their numbers by cut 
 ting off their foraging parties ; so that every load of 
 hay, or dish of turnips they got, was at the price of 
 l^bod. , 
 
 I 
 
90 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 THUS gloriously, in ten days, was turned the tide 
 of victory in favour of America, by him whom Hea 
 ven, in mercy not to America alone, but to Britain, 
 and to the world, had raised up to found here a wide 
 empire of liberty and virtue. The character of Wash 
 ington was exalted to the highest pitch, even through 
 out Europe, where he was generally styled the Ame 
 rican Fabius, from the famous Roman general of 
 that name, who opposed Hannibal with success. A 
 distinction to which he was justly entitled, from the 
 invincible firmness with which he rejected every 
 finesse of the British generals ; as also, that admira 
 ble judgment with which he suited the defence of the 
 nation to the genius and abilities of the people, and to 
 the natural advantages of the country, thereby not 
 allowing the enemy to profit by their great superiori 
 ty of numbers, discipline, and artillery, and constant 
 ly cutting them off by skirmishes and surprise. 
 
 THE ministerial plan for 1777, was to reduce the 
 Americans, by intercepting all communication be 
 tween the northern and southern states ! To effect 
 this object General Howe, with 20 thousand men, 
 was to go round from New- York to the Head of Elk, 
 and thence march on, due north, through Philadel 
 phia ; while General Burgoyne, with 10,000 men, 
 setting out from Canada, was to pass down the lakes, 
 and thence due south to meet his colleague Howe - 9 
 the straight line, formed by the junction of these two 
 gentlemen, was to possess such virtues, that it was 
 supposed no American could be found hardy enough 
 to set foot over it ! ! 
 
 ACCORDINGLY, July 23, General Howe left Sandy- 
 Hook; sailed up the Chesapeake; landed at the 
 mouth of Elk-River; and with but little interruption, 
 except at Brandywine, marched on to Philadelphia. 
 Into that elegant city, on the 26th of September, 
 1777, he entered in triumph ; fondly supposing, that, 
 in America, as in Europe, the capture of the city was 
 equivalent to the reduction of the country. But io? 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 91 
 
 stead of finding himself master of this great conti 
 nent, whose rattle-snakes alone in the hand of heaven, 
 could scourge his presumption ; it was with no small 
 difficulty he could keep possession of the little village 
 of Germanto wn. For, on the morning of the 4th of 
 October, Washington made an attack on him with 
 such judgment and fury, that his troops gave way in 
 every quarter. < The tumult, disorder and despair in 
 the British army, says Washington, -were unparallel 
 ed" But: in the very moment of the most decisive 
 and glorious victory, when some of the provincial 
 regimento had more prisoners than men, the Ame 
 ricans, through the mistake of an officer, who had 
 drank too freely, began to retreat ! ! Washington s 
 grief and mortification were inexpressible, 
 
 BUT while he was annoying the enemy by land, 
 he did not lose sight of their fleet, which was now 
 forcing its way up the Delaware, to keep open to the 
 army a channel of supplies. They arrived, without 
 molestation, within 8 miles of Philadelphia, at a 
 marsh called Mud-Island. On this poor harmless 
 spot, the fittest, however, that nature in this peaceful 
 land of Friends could furnish, Washington ordered 
 a fort to be thrown up, the command of which, with 
 230 men, he assigned to lieutenant-colonel Samuel 
 Smith. On the eastern or Jersey side of the river, at 
 a place called Red-Bank, he ordered a strong re 
 doubt, the command of which, with 250 men, was 
 given to colonel Greene. These, with some chevaux- 
 de-frise sunk in the river, and a few gallies, formed 
 all the barrier that Washington could present against 
 the British navy. The strength of this barrier was 
 soon put to a fiery trial. Great preparations were 
 made to attack the Americans, at the same instant, 
 both by land and water. Count Donop, with a host 
 of Hessians, was sent over to be in readiness to at 
 tack Red- Bank, while the flood-tide, groaning under 
 the enormous weight, brought up the men of war. 
 The morning was still, and the heavens overcast with 
 
92 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 sad clouds, as of nature sympathizing with her chil 
 dren, and ready to drop showers of celestial pity on 
 their strifes. No sooner had the ships floated up 
 within three cables length of the fort, than they began 
 a most tremendous cannonade : while cannon-balls 
 and fire-tailed bombs, like comets, fell upon it thick 
 as hail. The gallant Smith and his myrmidons stood 
 the shock to a miracle : and, like men fighting under 
 he eye of their Washington, drove two-and-thirty 
 pounders through them with such spirit and success, 
 that in a little time, the Augusta, a heavy 64 gun 
 ship, took fire, and blew up, the horrible balloon of 
 many of the crew. Another ship called the Merlin, 
 or Black-Bird, soon got on the wing, blew up like 
 wise, and went off in thunder to join the Augusta. 
 
 AT the same moment Col. Donop, with his Hes 
 sians, made a gallant attack on the fort at Red- Bank. 
 After a few well-directed fires, Greene and his men 
 artfully retired from the out-works. The enemy now 
 supposing the day their own, rushed on in vast num 
 bers along a large opening in the fort, and within 
 twenty steps of a masked battery, of 18 pounders, 
 loaded with grape-shot and spike-nails. All at once 
 Erebus seemed to open before their affrighted view. 
 But their pains and their terrors were but for a mo 
 ment. Together down they sunk by hundreds, into 
 the sweet slumbers of death, scarcely sensible of the 
 fatal blow that reft their lives. 
 
 Heaps on heaps the slaughter d Hessians lie : 
 Brave Greene beholds them with a tearful eye. 
 Far now from home, and from their native shore, 
 They sleep in _, ath, and hear of wars no more. 
 
 POOR Donop was mortally wounded, and taken 
 prisoner. The attentions of the American officers, 
 and particularly the kind condolence of the godlike 
 Washington, quite overcame him ; and his last mo 
 ments were steeped in tears of regret, for having left 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 93 
 
 his native land, to fight a distant people who ha 
 never injured him. 
 
 ON hearing of his mftfortune, Washington sent an 
 officer to condole with him. The officer was con*- 
 ducted to his apartment ; and delivered the message 
 The wounded count appeared much affected a tear 
 swelled in his eye : and he said to the officer, " Pre<- 
 sent to General Washington the thanks of an unfor* 
 tunate brother soldier ; tell him I expect to risjj^io 
 more, but if I should, the first exertion of my strength 
 shall be, to return to him my thanks in person." The 
 officer sent was Colonel Daniel Clymer, of Berks, 
 Pennsylvania* u See here, Colonel," said the dying 
 count, " see in me the vanity of all human pride ! I 
 have shone in all the courts of Europe ; and now I 
 am dying here, on the banks of the Delaware, in the 
 house of an obscure Quaker !" 
 
 AFTER six weeks of infinite fatigue, with great 
 loss of men and money, the British forced a passage 
 large enough for their provision ships to Philadel* 
 phia, where general Howe and his officers held their 
 balls this winter; while 16 miles distant, the great 
 Washington, well pleased with his campaign, retired 
 to winter quarters at Valley Forge. 
 
 WHILE such ill success attended this part of the 
 ministerial plan, viz. to choke the colonies by a mili* 
 tary noose, so tightly drawn from Chesapeake to 
 Champlain, as to stop all circulation between the 
 northern and southern states ; a worse fate frowned 
 on their attempt in the north. General Burgoyne, 
 with 10,000 veterans, besides a host of Canadians 
 and Indians, issuing forth from Canada in June 
 1777, came pouring along down the lakes like the 
 thundering Niagara, with an impetuosity that swept 
 every thing before it. The hatchets of the Indians 
 were drunk with American blood. No age, no sex, 
 could soften them. " The widow s wail, the virgin s 
 shriek, and trembling infant s cry," were music in 
 their ears. In cold blood they struck their cruel 
 tomahawks into the defenceless ncuvt of a M ss 
 I 2 
 
94 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 M Rea, a beautiful girl, who was that very day to 
 have been married ! Such adfS (%f inhumanity called 
 forth the fiercest indignatioti|jrf*the Americans, and 
 inspired that desperate resolution of wrnch the hu 
 man heart is capable, but which no human force can 
 conquer. The New Englanders, who were nearest to 
 these infernal scenes, turned out en masse* Washing 
 ton hurried on Gates and Arnold with their furious 
 legions ; and to these he joined the immortal Morgan 
 his dreadful phalanx, 1000 riflemen, whose 
 ers were never touched in vain, but could throw 
 a ball a hundred yards at a squirrel s head, and never 
 miss. 
 
 THE first check given to Burgoyne s career, was 
 at Bennington. Hearing that the Americans had laid 
 up large provisions in that town, he detached a Colo 
 nel Baum, with 600 Germans, to surprise it : and, at 
 the same time, posted Colonel Breyman in the neigh 
 bourhood, with an equal number to support him if 
 necessary. Finding the place too well guarded either 
 for surprise or storm, Baum fortified himself at a lit 
 tle distance, and sent back for Breyman. The Ame 
 rican commander, the brave general Starke, sallied 
 out, and with great fury attacked Baum s intrench- 
 ments without giving him time to receive his rein 
 forcements. At the first onset, the Canadians and 
 British marksmen took to their heels, and left the 
 poor Germans in the lurch. After a gallant resist 
 ance, Baum was mortally wounded, and his brave 
 countrymen killed or taken to a man. In the mean 
 time Breyman, totally ignorant of their catastrophe, 
 arrived at the place of action, where, instead of the 
 cheering huzzas of joyful friends, he was saluted, on 
 all hands, with the deadly whizzing of rifle bullets. 
 After Deceiving a few close and scorching fires, the 
 Germans hastily betook themselves to flight. The 
 neighbouring woods, with night s sable curtains, en 
 abled the fugitives to save themselves for that time at 
 least. The enemy lost in these two engagements, not 
 less than 1000 men, killed, wounded, and prisoners. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON 95 
 
 ABOUT the same time all their forts on tne lakes 
 were surprised. Colonel St. Leger was defeated at 
 Fort-Stanwix ; the Indians began to desert ; Arnold 
 and Morgan were coming up like mountain-storms : 
 and the militia from all quarters were pouring in. 
 Burgoyne began to be alarmed, and wrote to New- 
 York for aid ; but finding that Clinton could give him 
 none, and that the salvation of his army depended on 
 themselves, he gallantly determined, on the 7th of 
 October, 1777, to stake his all on the issue of a gen 
 eral battle. 
 
 His army, in high spirits, was formed within a mile 
 of the American camp. Burgoyne, with the flower 
 of the British troops, composed the centre. Briga 
 dier-general Frazer commanded the left. The Ger 
 mans headed by major-generals Philips and Keides- 
 del, and col. Breyman formed the right. With a fine 
 train of artillery, flying colours, and full roll of mar 
 tial music, from wing to wing the towering heroes 
 moved. On the other hand, fired with the love of 
 liberty, the Americans poured out by thousands, ea 
 ger for the glorious contest. Their dear country s 
 flag waves over their heads. The thoughts of the 
 warriors are on their children, and on the chains now 
 forging for their tender hands. The avenging pas 
 sions rise, and the battle moves. Morgan brought on 
 the action. In a large buckwheat field, which lay be 
 tween the two armies, he had concealed his famous 
 regiment of riflemen. The enemies, chiefly Cana 
 dians and Indians, unsuspiciously advance. They 
 were suffered to come within point b!ank shot, when 
 they received a general fire, which strewed the field 
 with their dead bodies. Morgan pursued; but was 
 soon met by a heavy reinforcement from the British, 
 who quickly drove him, in turn. Arnold then moved 
 on to support Morgan; and, in a short time, with nine 
 heavy regiments was closely engaged with the whole 
 of the British army, both parties fighting as if each 
 was determined never to yield : while the incessant 
 crash of muskets and roar of artillery appeared both 
 
96 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 to sight and sound as if two wrathful clouds had come 
 down on the plain, rushing together, in hideous bat 
 tle, with all their thunders and lightnings. The 
 weight, however, of the American fire was directed 
 against the enemy s centre, extending along the left 
 wing : and though it was some time sustained with 
 the greatest firmness, yet at length it prevailed, and 
 threw the British into confusion. But the gallant 
 Frazer flying to their assistance, soon restored their 
 order and renewed the fight. Severely galled still by 
 Morgan s rifles on the flanks, and hard pressed at the 
 same time, in front by Arnold? they gave way a se 
 cond time : and a second time Frazer s presence re 
 vived their valour, and rekindled the battle in all its 
 rage. 
 
 HERE Arnold did an act unworthy of the glory of 
 the well fought battle. He ordered up twelve of his 
 best riflemen, and pointing to Frazer, who on horse 
 back, with brandished sword> was gallantly anima 
 ting his men, he said " Mark that officer ! Himself 
 is a host ; let me not see him long." 
 
 Til E riflemen flew to their places, and in a few mo 
 ments the hero was cut down. With him fell the 
 courage of the left wing, who, being now fiercely 
 charged, gave way, and retreated to their camp. But 
 scarcely had they entered it, when the Americans, 
 with Arnold at their head, stormed it with inconceiv 
 able fury ; rushing with trailed arms through a heavy 
 discharge of musquetry and grape shot. The British 
 fought with equal desperation. For their all was at 
 stake ; the Americans, like a whelming flood, were 
 bursting over their intrenchments; and, hand to hand, 
 with arguments of bloody steel, were pleading the 
 cause of ages yet unborn. Hoarse as a mastiff of true 
 British breed, Lord Balcarras was heard from rank to 
 rank, loud- animating his troops ; while on. the other 
 hand,fierce as the hungry tiger of Bengal, the impetu 
 ous Arnold precipitated his heroes on the stubborn 
 foe. High in air, the encountering banners blazed ; 
 there bold waving the lion-painted standard of Bri 
 tain ; here the streaming pride of Columbia s lovely 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 97 
 
 stripes while thick below, ten thousand eager war 
 riors close the darkening files, all bristled with 
 vengeful steel. No firing is heard. But shrill and 
 terrible, from rank to rank, resounds the clash of 
 bayonets frequent and sad the groans of the dying. 
 Pairs on pairs, Britons and Americans, with each his 
 bayonet in his brother s breast, fall forward together 
 faint-shrieking in death, and mingle their smoking 
 blood. 
 
 MANY were the widows, many the orphans that 
 were made that day. Long did the daughters of Co 
 lumbia mourn their fallen brothers ! and often did 
 the lovely maids of Caledonia roll their soft blue eyes 
 of sorrow along the sky-bound sea, to meet the sails 
 of their returning lovers. 
 
 BUT alas ! their lovers shall return no more. Far 
 distant, on the banks of the roaring Hudson they lie, 
 pale and helpless on the fields of death. Glassy now 
 and dim are those eyes which once " beamed with 
 friendship, or which flamed in war." Their last 
 thoughts are towards the maids of their love : and 
 the big tear glistens in their eye, as they heave the 
 parting groan. 
 
 THEN was seen the faded form of Ocean s Queen, 
 far-famed Britannia, sitting alone and tearful on her 
 western cliffs. With downcast look her faithful lion 
 lay roaring at her feet ; while torn and scattered on 
 the rock were seen her many trophies of ancient 
 fame. Silent, in dishevelled locks, the goddess sat, 
 absorbed in grief, when the gale of the west came 
 blackening along the wave, laden with the roar of 
 murderous battle. At once she rose a livid horror 
 spread her cheeks distraction glared on her eye 
 balls, hard strained towards the place whence came 
 the groans of her children ! the groans of her chil 
 dren fast sinking in a distant land. Thrice she essay 
 ed to curse the destroyers of her race. But thrice 
 she remembered, that they too were her sons. Then, 
 wild shrieking with a mother s anguish, she rent the 
 
98 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 air with her cries : and the hated name of NORTH 
 resounded through all her caves. 
 
 BUT still in all its rage the battle burned : and both 
 parties fought with an obstinacy, never exceeded. 
 But, in that moment of danger and of glory, the im 
 petuous Arnold, who led the Americans, was dange 
 rously wounded, and forced to retire : and several 
 regiments of British infantry pouring in to the assist 
 ance of their gallant comrades, the Americans, after 
 many hard struggles, were finally repulsed. 
 
 IN another quarter, where the strength of the Ger 
 mans fought, the Americans, led on by Morgan, car 
 ried the rntrenchments sword in hand. The face of 
 Morgan was like the full moon in a stormy night, 
 when she looks down red and fiery on the raging 
 deep, amidst foundering wrecks and cries of drown 
 ing seamen; while his voice, like thunder on the 
 hills, was heard, loud-shouting his heroes to the 
 bloody charge. The tall regiments of Hesse Cassel 
 fe or fled before them; leaving their baggage, tents 
 and artillery, in the hands of the victors. 
 
 THIS was a bloody day to both armies : but so pe 
 culiarly disheartening to the British, that they were 
 obliged to retreat that night to Saratoga, where, in a 
 few days, (on the 13th of October, 1777,) they sur 
 rendered to the Americans, under Gates, by whom 
 they were treated with a generosity that astonished 
 them. For, when the British were marched out to 
 lay down their arms, there was not an American to 
 be seen ! They had all nobly retired for a moment, 
 as if unwilling to give the pain, even to their ene 
 mies, of being spectators of so humiliating a scene ! 
 Worthy countrymen of Washington ! this deed of 
 yours shall outlive the stars, and the blest sun him 
 self, smiling, shall proclaim, that in the wide travel 
 of his beams, he never looked upon its like before. 
 
 THUS, gloriously for America, ended the campaign 
 of 77. That of 78 began as auspiciously. In May, 
 Silas Deane arrived from France, with the welcome 
 news of a treaty with that powerful people, and a 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 99 
 
 letter from Louis XVI. to Congress, whom he styled 
 very dear great friends and allies. 
 
 SOON as it was known by the British ambassador 
 at Paris, Lord Stormont, that the king of France had 
 taken part with the Americans, he waited on the 
 French minister, De Vergennes ; and with great agi 
 tation mentioned the report, asking if it were possible 
 it could be true. 
 
 " VERY possible^ my Lord" replied the smooth 
 Frenchman. 
 
 " WELL, I m astonished at it, sir," continued 
 Stormont, exceedingly mortified. " America, sir, is 
 " our daughter ! and it was extremely indelicate of 
 u the French king thus to decoy her from our em- 
 " braces, and make a w e of her !" 
 
 " Why as to that matter, my Lord," quoth Ver 
 gennes, with the true Gallic shrug, "there is n< 
 " great harm done. For the king of France is ver; 
 u willing to marry your daughter, and make an ho- 
 u nest woman of her." 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 Lord North, coming to his senses, sends commission 
 ers to America Clinton evacuates Philadelphia 
 Washington pursues him battle of Monmouth- 
 Arnold^s apostacy Andre apprehended executed 
 his character. 
 
 THE news of the total loss of Burgoyne and his 
 army soon reached Parliament, where it produced a 
 consternation never before known in that house. 
 The Ministry, utterly confounded, could not open 
 their lips ; while the Whig minority, with great se 
 verity, lashed their obstinacy and ignorance. Loi d 
 North, beginning now to find, as the great Chatham 
 had foretold, that " three millions of Whigs, -with arms 
 
100 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 in their hands, -were not to be enslaved" became very 
 anxious to conciliate ! Commissioners were sent over 
 with offers to repeal the obnoxious taxes ! and also 
 with promises of great favours which Lord North 
 would confer on America, if she would settle the 
 dispute with the mother country. The better to 
 dispose her towards these oifers, elegant presents 
 were to be made to her best friends, (such as Wash 
 ington, the President of Congress, &c. &c.) to speak 
 a good word for Lord North s favours I / But, ob 
 serve, Independence was to be out of the question ! 
 
 DOCTOR Franklin used laughingly to say, that 
 " Lord North and his great favours, put him in mind 
 " of an old bawd, and her attempts upon a young 
 " virgin, to whom she promised every thing but In- 
 " nocence. While in robbing her of innocence, the 
 " old hag knew well enough that she was robbing 
 " the poor girl of that without which she would soon 
 " in spite of her fine gowns and necklaces, become 
 " a miserable outcast and slave." 
 
 FINDING that Lord North, in the multitude of his 
 favours, had entirely forgotten the only one which 
 they valued, i. e. the Independence of their country, 
 the committee of Congress broke off all farther con 
 verse with the ministerial commissioners, who pro 
 ceeded immediately to try the efficacy of their pre 
 sents. To Washington, tis said, a viceroyship, with 
 tons of gold, was to have been tendered. But, to the 
 honour of the commissioners be it said, not one of 
 their number was graceless enough to breathe the 
 polluted wish into his ear. They had, however, the 
 hardihood to throw out a bait of 10,000 guineas to 
 the President of Congress, Gen. Reed. His answer 
 is worthy of lasting remembrance. " Gentlemen" 
 said he, u I am poor, very poor. But your king is not 
 rich enough to buy me. 1 " 
 
 ON the 18th of June, the British army, now under 
 the command of Clinton, evacuated Philadelphia for 
 New- York. The figure they made on the road had 
 something of the air of the sublime; for their bag- 
 
LIFE OF WAdHAtfjGTON. 101 
 
 , loaded horses, anJ carriages, formed a line not 
 less than twelve miles JR length. ^Genej^l:; Washing 
 ton, whose eye, like that of the sacred dragon, was 
 always open,, and fixed upon the enemies of America, 
 immediately crossed the Delaware after them push 
 ed on detached corps to obstruct their advance gall 
 their flanks and fall on their rear, while he himself 
 moved on with the main body of the army. By the 
 27th, Clinton had advanced as far Monmouth: and 
 Washington s troops were close on h ps flank and 
 rear. Next morning General Lee, with 500O men, 
 was ordered to begin the attack ; Washington moving 
 on briskly to support him. But, as he advanced, to 
 feis infinite astonishment he met Lee retreating, and 
 the enemy pursuing. " For God^a safe, General Lee" 
 said Washington with great warmth, " -what s the 
 cause of this ill~tim t d prudence?" 
 
 " No man,, sir," replied Lee, quite convulsed with 
 rage, "can bvast a larger portitn of that rascally vir 
 tue than your Excellency / /" 
 
 DASHING along by the madman, Washington rode 
 up to his troops, who, at sight of him, rent the air 
 with u God save great Washington /" 
 
 " MY brave fellows" said he, " can yeu fight ?" 
 
 THEY answered with three cheers! u Then face 
 about, my heroes, and charge" This order was exe 
 cuted with infinite spirit. The enemy, finding them 
 selves now warmly opposed in front, made an attempt 
 to turn his left flank ; but were gallantly attacked and 
 driven back. They then made a rapid push to the 
 right : but the brave Greene, with a choice body of 
 troops and artillery, repulsed them with considerable 
 slaughter. At the same instant, Wayne advanced with 
 his legion ; and poured in so severe and well directed 
 a fire, that the enemy were glad to regun their de 
 files. Morgan s rifles distinguished themselves that 
 day. Washington and his heroes lay upt n their arms 
 all night, resolved to fall on the enemy the moment 
 they should attempt their retreat neiit morning. But 
 K 
 
102 LIFE 0? WASHINGTON. 
 
 during the flight. tl*ey moved off in silence ; and got 
 such a 6 tart., -that Washington thought it dangerous, 
 in such hot weather, to make a push after them. The 
 Americans lost 58 killed- 140 wounded. The Bri 
 tish had 249 killed, and the wounded in proportion. 
 Numbers, on both sides, died of the extreme heat, 
 and by drinking cold water. 
 
 IN September 1 780, an attempt was made to take 
 off our Washington, and by means which I can hard 
 ly believe the old British lion was ever well pleased 
 with. 
 
 I ALLUDE to the affair of Arnold s treason. That 
 which makes rogues of thousands, I mean Extrava 
 gance, was the ruin of this great soldier. Though 
 extremely brave, he was of that vulgar sort, who hav 
 ing no taste for the pleasures of the mind, think of 
 nothing but high living, dress, and show. To rent 
 large houses in Philadelphia to entertain French 
 Ambassadors to give balls and concerts, and grand 
 dinners and suppers required more money than he 
 could honestly command. And, alas ! such ; s the 
 stuff whereof spendthrifts are made, that to fatten 
 his Prodigality, Arnold consented to starve his Us- 
 nesty : and provided he might but figure as a gor 
 geous Governor, he was content to retail, by the 
 billet and the gill, wood and rum unfairly drawn from 
 the commissary s store ! 
 
 COLONEL Melcher, the barrack master, mentioned 
 the matter to Congress, who desired him to issue to 
 General Arnold no more than his proper rations. He 
 had scarcely returned home when Arnold s servant 
 appeared with an order for another large supply of 
 Rum, Hickory wood, &?c. s?c. 
 
 " INFORM your master," said Melcher, " that he 
 cartt have so much." 
 
 ARNOLD immediately came down; and in a great 
 passion asked Colonel Melcher, if it was true he had 
 protested his bill ? 
 
 AND how durst you do it ?" 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 103 
 
 44 BY order of Congress, sir" 
 
 AT this, Arnold, half choked with rage, replied, 
 " JD n the Rascals / / // remember them for it. Samp 
 son-like ril shake the pillars of their Liberty temple 
 about their ears /" 
 
 ON the evacuation of Philadelphia by the British, 
 Gen. Arnold had been appointed temporary gover 
 nor of that city, where he behaved like a desperado, 
 who hesitates at nothing to stop the deadly leaks of 
 his prodigality, and to keep himself from sinking. 
 Among other bold strokes, he seized and sold large 
 quantities of American property, pretending it was 
 British. Complaints were made to Congress, who, 
 unwilling to expose the man who had fought so gal 
 lantly for Liberty, treated him with great gentleness : 
 and for the same reason, Washington after a mild 
 reproof, gave him the command of West Point, with 
 a large body of troops. 
 
 THE history of Arnold s embarrassments and his 
 quarrel with his countrymen, soon reached New- 
 York. The British commander, well knowing the 
 ticklish situation of a proud man, caught on the 
 horns of poverty, sends up major Andre, with mo 
 ney in his pocket. The major, by means yet un 
 known to the public, got near enough to Arnold to 
 probe him ; and, alas ! found him, both in principle 
 and purse, hollow as an exhausted receiver, and very 
 willing to be filled up with English guineas. Eng 
 lish guineas, to the tune of ten thousand, with the 
 rank and pay of Brigadier General, are offered him; 
 and Arnold agrees, Oh ! shocking to humanity ! Ar 
 nold agrees to sacrifice Washington. 
 
 THE outlines of the project were, it seems, that 
 Arnold should make such a disposition of the troops 
 at West Point, as to enable sir Henry Clinton, so 
 completely to surprize them, that they must inevita 
 bly, either lay down their arms or be cut to pieces p 
 with General Washington among them ! ! The victo 
 rious British were then, both by land and water, to 
 rush upon the feeble and dispirited residue of the 
 
104 LIFE OF WASHINGTON; 
 
 American army* in the neighbourhood, utterly una 
 ble to resist, when there would follow such a slaugh 
 ter of men, and such a sweeping of artillery, ammu 
 nition, stores, &c. &e. as would completely break 
 down the spirit of the nation, and reduce them to, 
 unconditional submission to the Ministry 1 
 
 To be certified of this delightful truth, Andre, du 
 ring Washington s absence from West Point, comes 
 ashore from a sloop of war, with a surtout over his. 
 regimentals ; spends a day and night with Arnold ; 
 sees with his own eyes, the dear train laid, the. 
 matches lighted, and every thing in readiness, a few- 
 nights hence, to send the old Virginia farmer and his 
 republic to destruction. 
 
 EVERY thing being settled ta satisfaction, Andr<& 
 wishes to set off to carry the glorious news to Gen- 
 Clinton. But, behold ! by a fine stroke of Providential 
 interference, he cannot get on board the ship ! ! Ar 
 nold gives him a horse and a pass to go to New-York: 
 by land. Under the name of Anderson he passes, in 
 safety, all the guards. Now, like an uncaged bird, 
 and light as the air he breathes, he sweeps along the 
 road. His fame brightens before him stars and 
 garters, coaches and castles, dance before his delight-* 
 ed fancy even his long-loved reluctant Delia (Miss, 
 Seward) is all his oivn she joins in the nation s gra^ 
 titude softly she rolls her eyes of love, and brighten 
 ing in all her beauty, sinks o-n his enraptured breast \ 
 In the mklst of these, too, too happy thoughts.,, he is, 
 met by three young militia men. Though not on 
 duty, they challenge him. He answers by the name 
 of Anderson; shews his. pass ; and bo kinds, a way* Here 
 the guardian genius of Columbia burst into tears 
 she saw the fall of her hero, and her country s liber 
 ties crushed for ever. Dry thine eyes, blest saint % 
 thy Washington is not fallen yet. The thick bosses. 
 of Jehovah s buckler are before the chief: and the 
 shafts of his enemies shall yet fall to the earth, ac 
 curst Por, scarce had Andre passed the youug mi-* 
 litia-men, before one of them tells his comrades, that 
 " he does not like hix lovks ;>" and insists that he sha\\ 
 
Pajre 105. 
 
 Capture of Major Andre- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 105 
 
 be called back, and questioned again. His answers 
 prove him a spy. He would have fled : but they level 
 their musquets. Trembling and pale, he offers them 
 an elegant gold-watch to let him go. No! He presses 
 on them a purse bloated with guineas. No ! He pro 
 mises each of them a handsome pension for lite 
 but all in vain. The power that guarded Washington 
 was wroth with Andre. On searching him they find 
 in his boot, and in Arnold s own hand-writing, a plan 
 of the whole conspiracy ! Sons of the generous soul, 
 why should I tell how major Andre died ? The place 
 where his gallows stood is overgrown with weeds 
 but smiling angels often visit the spot; and it was 
 bathed with the tears of his foes. 
 
 His candour, on his examination, in some sort ex 
 piated his crime. It melted the angel soul of Wash 
 ington : and the tears of the hero were mingled with 
 the ink that signed the death-warrant of the hapless 
 youth. The names of the young men who arrested 
 poor Andre, were, JOHN PAULDING, DAVID WIL 
 LIAMS, and ISAAC VAN VERT. They were at cards 
 under a large poplar that grew by the road, where 
 the major was to pass. Congress rewarded them 
 with silver medals ; and settled on each of them 
 S200 annually, for life. 
 
 AMERICAN writers have recorded a thousand hand 
 some things of unfortunate Andre. They have made 
 him scholar, soldier, gentleman, poet, painter, musi 
 cian, and, in short, EVERY THING that talents and 
 taste can make a man. The following anecdote will 
 show that he was much greater still. 
 
 SOME short time before that fatal affair which 
 brought him to his end, (said my informant, Mr. 
 Drewy, a painter, now living at Newbern,) a fora 
 ging party from New-York made an inroad into our 
 settlement near that city. The neighbours soon as 
 sembled to oppose them ; and, though not above fif 
 teen years old, I turned out with my friends. In com 
 pany was another boy, in age and size nearly about 
 my own speed. We had counted on a fine chace: 
 But the British were not to be driven so easily as we 
 
106 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 had expected. Standing their ground, they not only 
 put us to flight, but captured several of our party ; 
 myself and the other boy among them. They present 
 ly set out with us for New-York : and, all the way, as 
 we were going, my heart ached to think how my poor 
 mother and sisters would be distressed when night 
 came, and I did not return. Soon as they brought me 
 in sight of the prison, I was struck with horror. The 
 gloomy walls, and frightful guards at the doors, and 
 wretched crowds at the iron windows, together with 
 the thoughts of being locked up there in dark dun 
 geons with disease and death, so overcame me, that 
 1 bursted into tears. Instantly a richly dressed offi 
 cer stepped up, and taking me by the hand, with a 
 look of great tenderness, said, " My dear boy I "what 
 makes you cry ?" I told him I could not help it when 
 I compared my present sad prospect with the happy 
 one I enjoyed in the morning with my mother and 
 sisters at home. " Well, -well, my dear child, (said he) 
 doti t cry, don t cry any more." Then turning to the 
 jailor ordered him to stop till he should come back. 
 Though but a boy, yet I was deeply struck with the 
 wonderful difference betwixt this man and the rest 
 around me. He appeared to me like a brother; they 
 like brutes. I asked the jailor who he was. "Why, 
 that s major Andre, (said he angrily) the adjutant- 
 general of the army ; and you may thank your stars 
 that he saw you ; for I suppose he is gone to the gene 
 ral to beg you of, as he has done many of your d d 
 rebel country men.^ In a short time he returned; and 
 with great joy in his countenance called out-^" Well, 
 my boys, I ve good news, good news for you ! The 
 General has given you to me, to dispose of as I choose ; 
 and now you are at liberty ! So run home to your fond 
 parents, and be good boys ; mind rvhat they tell you : 
 say your prayers; love one another; and God Almighty 
 will bless you" 
 
 AND yet Andre perished, on a gallows, while Ar 
 nold, after living to old age, died in his bed ! ! Shall 
 we hence infer with Brutus, that " Virtue is but an 
 empty name ?" and that Andre had been good in vain? 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 107 
 
 God forbid ! Goodness and happiness are twins. Hea 
 ven hath joined them together, and Hell cannot put 
 them asunder. For proof, we need go no further than 
 to Andre himself to Andre in prison ! Even in that 
 last and gloomiest scene of his life, we see the power 
 which virtue has to illuminate the dark, to enliven the 
 sad, and to raise her votaries above the terrors of 
 death. In the first moment of his capture, when 
 vulgar minds are thinking of nothing but self-pre 
 servation, he is thinking of nothing but duty and gene 
 rosity. Regardless of himself, he is only anxious for 
 Arnold. Having by letter advised that wretched man 
 of his danger, and give him time to escape, he then 
 gallantly asserts his own real character ; and avows 
 himself "the Adjutant General of the British army" 
 THE truth is, he had been sent by Gen. Clinton, 
 on a dirty piece of business for which he was not fit ; 
 and of which he was so heartily ashamed, that he ap 
 pears to have been willing to atone for it with his life. 
 Hence to the questions put at his trial, he answered 
 with a candour which at once surprised and melted 
 the Court Martial he answered, with the candour of 
 a mind which feared its ozvn condemnation more than 
 that of any human tribunal. -He heard his sentence of 
 death with periect indifference ; and at the place of 
 execution behaved like one who had fulfilled the high 
 duties of son, brother, and man, with constant atten 
 tion to a happy immortality. Thus giving the friends 
 of virtue abundant cause to exclaim : 
 
 " Far more true peace the dying Andre felt, 
 w Than Arnold ever knew in prosperous guilt." 
 
 He, poor wretch, survived ! but only to live a life, at 
 once hated and despised hated by the British Gene 
 ral, whom he had shown capable of assassinating the 
 man he could not conquer-~-hated\>y the British army, 
 whom he had robbed of one of its brightest orna 
 ments and hated by the officers, who could not beai 
 to see what thev called "a d mn d traitor" no 
 
108 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 only introduced into their company, but placed over 
 their heads ? In short, Arnold was an eye-sore to eve 
 ry man of nonour in England, where he was often 
 most grossly insulted. 
 
 SOON after his flight to England with the slender 
 remains of the British army, he went down to South 
 ampton, where the broken-hearted Mother and Sis 
 ters of the unfortunate Andre lived. And so little 
 was he acquainted with the human heart, that he 
 called to see them ! On hearing his name announced 
 by the servant, they burst into tears ; and sent him 
 word, that " they did not wish to see him" 
 
 THE moment he received Major Andre s letter, 
 the terrified Arnold made his escape to New-York. 
 BRITISH historians have wondered that he left his 
 wife in the power of Washington. But Arnold knew 
 in whom he trusted : and the generous man behav 
 ed exactly as Arnold had foreseen ; for he immedi 
 ately sent him his clothes and baggage ; and wrote 
 a polite letter of condolence to his lady, offering her 
 a conveyance to her husband, or to her friends in 
 Pennsylvania. 
 
 WASHINGTON now waged the war with various 
 success. On the one hand, his hero of Saratoga 
 (Gates) was defeated with great loss, at Camden; 
 on the other, the British lost, on the King s-Moun- 
 tain, the brave Colonel Ferguson, with all his army, 
 I,40O men. Colonel Ferguson and his men were 
 supposed by the British, the most exquisite marks 
 men alive. And indeed to hear their bravadoes, one 
 would suppose, that give them but guns of a proper 
 calibre, and they would think it a light affair to snuff 
 the moon, or drive the centre of the fixed stars. But 
 the American Rifle-boys soon let them into a truer 
 way of thinking. For in a few rounds they pink d 
 the brave Colonel, and put 300 of his exquisite 
 marksmen asleep ; which struck such a wholesome 
 panic into the survivors, that the) threw down their 
 arms r and like thrifty gentlemen called out right 
 lustily for quarters. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 109 
 
 BUT few of the Americans fell ; but among these 
 was ont^ whose fame " Time -with his own eternal lip 
 shall smg" I mean the brave Col. Williams. He 
 it was, whose burning words first kindled the young 
 farmers at their ploughs, and led them to the K ing 
 Mountain, to measure their youthful rifles with 
 Ferguson s heroes. On receiving the ball which 
 opened in his breast the crimson sluice of life, he 
 was borne by his aids, into the rear ; where he was 
 scarcely laid down, fainting with loss of blood, before 
 a voice was heard, loud exclaiming, " Hurra ! My 
 Boys ! the day is our own ! the day is our own ! they 
 are crying for quarters ?" Instantly he started, as 
 from the incipient sleep of death ; and, opening his 
 heavy eyes, eagerly called out, " My God! who are 
 crying for quarters ?" " The British ! The Brit 
 ish /" replied the powder-blackened riflemen. At 
 this, one last beam ot joy lighted in a smile on his 
 dying face : then faintly whispering, God be praised ! 
 he bowed his head in everlasting pfcace. 
 
 JOY follow thee, my brother, to HIS BLEST PRE 
 SENCE, who sent thee, a pillar of fire, to blast the mad 
 efforts of men fighting against their brethren! On 
 earth thy fame shall never fail. Children yet unborn 
 shall lisp the name of Williams. Their cherub lips 
 shall often talk of him whose patriot eye beheld 
 them, afar off, smiling on the breast, and \vith a 
 parent s ardour hasted to ward from their guiltless 
 heads the curses of monarchy. 
 
 AFTER the defeat of Gates, Washington sent on 
 his favourite Greene to head the southern army 
 against the victorious Cornwallis and Tarleton. 
 With Greene he joined the famous Morgan, whose 
 riflemen had performed such signal service during 
 the war. 
 
 To draw Cornwallis s attention from a blow medi 
 tated against the British post at Ninety-Six, Greene 
 detached Morgan to Paulet^s river, near the neigh 
 bourhood of Cornwallis and Tarleton. Immediate 
 ly the pride of Tarleton rose. He begged of his 
 
HO LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 friend, lord Rawdon, to obtain for him the permis 
 sion of the commander in chief to go and attack 
 Morgan. u By Heaven, my lord, (said he) / could 
 not desire a fner feather in my cap than Col. Mor 
 gan. Such a prisoner "would make my fortune" 
 Ah, Ben, (replied Rawdon very coolly) you had 
 better let the old -wagoner alone" And onr salute 
 could satisfy, permission at length was granted him ; 
 and he instantly set out. At parting, he said to 
 lord Rawdon with a srtaile, " My lord, if you will 
 be so obliging as to wait dinne> , the day after to 
 morrow, till four o clock, Col. Morgan shall be one of 
 your lordship s guests" u Very well, Ben, (said 
 the other) we shall wait. But remember, Morgan 
 was brought up under Washington." Tarleton was 
 followed to battle by about 1OOO choice infantry and 
 250 horse, with two field pieces. To oppose this 
 formidable force, Morgan had but 5OO militia, 3OO 
 regulars, and 75 horse. His militia were but mili 
 tia. His regulars were the famous MARYLAND 
 LINE led by Howard ; men who would have done 
 honour to the plains of Austerlitz. The intrepid 
 Desaix, who turned the tide of war in the bloody 
 strife of Marengo, was only equal to Washington, 
 Col. of the horse. Morgan had no wish to fight. But 
 Tarleton compelled him ; for about two hours before 
 day on the 1 7th of January, 1 78 1 , some of Washing 
 ton s cavalry came galloping into camp w>th news 
 that the British were but eight miles off, and would 
 be up by day break. Instantly Morgan called a coun 
 cil of war, composed only of Howard, Washington, 
 and himself. " Well, gentlemen," said he, "what s 
 44 to be done ? shall we fight or fly ? shall we leave our 
 44 friends to our enemies ; and burning our meal and 
 44 bacon, so hardly got, turn out again into the starv- 
 44 ing woods ; or shall we stand by both, and fight 
 44 like men ?" 
 
 44 No burning ! no flying," replied they, " but let s 
 44 stand, and fight like men !" 
 
 44 WELL then, my brave fellows, (said Morgan) 
 u wake up the troops, and prepare for action " 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. ill 
 
 THE ground, on which this very memorable battle 
 was fought, was an open pine barren. The militia 
 were drawn up about two hundred yards in front of 
 the regulars, and the horse some small distance in 
 the rear. Just after day break, the British came in 
 sight; and halting within a quarter ot a mile of the 
 militia, began to prepare for battle. The Sun had 
 just risen, as the enemy, with loud shouts, advanced 
 to the charge. The militia, hardly waiting to give 
 them a distant fire, broke and fled for their horses, 
 which were tied at some distance on the wings of 
 the Maryland line. Tarleton s cavalry pushed hard 
 alter the fugitives, and, coming up with them just 
 as they had reached their horses, began to cut them 
 down. Unable to bear that sight, Col. Washington, 
 with his corps, dashed on to their rescue. As it cer 
 tain of victory, Tarleton s men were all scattered in 
 the chase. ... .Washington s heroes, on the contrary, 
 sensible of the fearful odds against them, advanced 
 close and compact as the Spartan phalanx. Then 
 sudden and terrible the charge was made ! Like men 
 fighting, life in hand, all at once they rose high on 
 their stirrups ! while in streams of lightning their 
 swords came down, and heads and arms, and caps, 
 and carcasses, distained with spouting gore, rolled 
 fearfully all around. Mournfully from all sides the 
 cries wt the wounded were heard, and the hollow 
 groans of the dying. 
 
 AGONIZING with rage and grief, Tarleton beheld 
 the flight ol his boasted victory, and the slaughter of 
 his bravest troops. He flew to reanimate them. He 
 encouraged he threatened he stormed and raved. 
 But all in vain. No time was given to rally ; for 
 like the heavy ship under crowded canvas, bursting 
 through the waves, so, strong and resistless, Wash 
 ington s squadron went on, hewing down and over 
 throwing every thing in their way. Confounded by 
 such a fatal charge, the British cavalrv could not 
 support it; but broke and fled in the utmost precipi 
 tation ; while, bending forward over their horsts, 
 L 
 
112 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 and waving their blood-stained swords, the loud- 
 shouting Americans pursued. The woods resound 
 ed with the noise of their flight. 
 
 As when a mammoth suddenly dashes in among 
 a thousand buffaloes, feeding at large on the vast 
 plains of Missouri ; all at once the innumt rous herd, 
 with wildly rolling eyes, and hideous bellowings, 
 break forth into flight, while, close at their heels, the 
 roaring monster follows. Earth trembles as they fly. 
 Such was the noise in the chase of Tarleton, when 
 the swords of Washington s cavalry pursued his 
 troops frcm the famous fields of the Cowpens. It was 
 like a peal of thunder, loud roaring at first, but 
 gradually dying on the ear as it rolls away along 
 the distant air. 
 
 By this time the British infantry had come up : 
 and, having crossed a little valley, just as they ascen 
 ded the hill, they found themselves within twenty 
 steps of Howard and his regulars, who received them 
 with a right soldierly welcome, and, taking good aim, 
 poured in a general and deadly fire. A slaughter so 
 entirely unexpected, threw the enemy into confusion. 
 Seeing this wonderful change in the battle, the mili 
 tia recovered their spirits, and began to form on the 
 right of the regulars. Morgan waving his sword, in 
 stantly rode up to them, and with a voice of thunder 
 roared out, u Hurra! my brave fellows, form, form! 
 Old Morgan was never I eat in his life.. . one f re more, 
 my heroes, and the day is our own /" With answtr- 
 ing shouts, both regulars and militia then advanced 
 upon the enemy ; and, following their fire with the 
 bayonet, instantly decided the conflict. The ground 
 was covered with the dead. The topai of the aged 
 pines shook with the ascending ghosts. With feeble 
 cries and groans, at once they rose, like flocks of 
 snow-white swans when the cold blast strikes them 
 on the lakes of Canada, and sends them on wide- 
 sprt ad wings, far to the south to seek a happier clime. 
 \\ ASHINGTON pursued Tarleton 20 miles ! and, 
 durii g the race, was often so near him, that he could 
 easily have killed him with a pistol shot. But having 
 
LITE OF WASHINGTON. 113 
 
 strictly forbidden his men to fire a pistol that day, 
 he could not resolve to break his oivn orders. How 
 ever there was one of his men who broke them. At 
 one time Washington was 30 or 40 yards ahead of 
 his men. Tarlcton observing this, suddenly wheel 
 ed with a couple of his dragoons to cut him off. 
 Washington, with more courage than prudence per 
 haps, dashed on, and rising on his stirrups, made a 
 blow at Tarlcton, with such force, that it beat down 
 his guard and mutilated one or two of his fingers. 
 In this unprotected state, one of the British dragoons 
 was aiming a stroke which must have killed him. 
 But, the good genii, who guard the name of Wash- 
 ington, prevailed : for in that critical moment a mere 
 dwarf of a Frenchman rushed up, and with a pistol 
 ball shivered the arm of the Briton. The other 
 dragoon attempted to wheel off ; but was cut down. 
 Tarleton made his escape. 
 
 TARLETON was brave, but not generous. He could 
 not bear to hear another s praise. When some la- 
 
 of Washington, he replied with a scornful air, that, 
 44 He would be very glad to get a sight of Col. Wash 
 ington. He had heard much talk of him" he said, 
 44 but had never seen him yet" u Why, sir" rejoined 
 one of the ladies, " if you had looked behind you at 
 the battle of the Cowpens, you might easily have en 
 joyed that ple-asui e." 
 
 WHILE in the neighbourhood of Halifax, North- 
 Carolina, Tarleton dined in 3 large company. The 
 elegant and witty Mrs, Wiley Jones happened to be 
 of the party. The ladies, who were chiefly whigs, 
 were frequently praising the brave Col. Washing 
 ton. Tarleton with looks considerably angry, re 
 plied, " that he was very much surprised that the 
 44 Americans should think so highly of Col. Wash- 
 44 ington ; for, from what he could learn, he was quite 
 44 an illiterate fellow, and could hardly write his own 
 44 name." " That may be very true (replied Mrs. 
 
114 LIFE OF WASHINGTON, 
 
 Jones) " but I believe, sir, you can testify that he 
 u knows how to make his mark." Poor Tarleton 
 looked at his crippled finger, and bit his lips with 
 rage. 
 
 General WASHINGTON continued the war against 
 the British till 1781 ; when Cornwallis pushed into 
 Virginia, and fortified himself at York-Town. But 
 the eye of Washington was upon him ; and with an 
 address, which, the British historians say, was never 
 equalled, he concerted a plan that ended in the total 
 destruction of Cornwallis. He artfully wrote letters 
 to Greene, informing, that, u in order to relieve 
 Virginia, he was determined immediately to attack 
 New-Tork" These letters were so disposed as to 
 fall into the right hands. Clinton took the alarm. 
 But while the British general was in daily expecta 
 tion of a visit from him, Washington and his army, 
 were now across the Delaware, with full stretch to 
 the south, darkening the day with their clouds of 
 rolling dust. Cornwallis saw that the day of his fall 
 was at hand. He had done all that a brave (would 
 to God we could add, a humane) man could do ; 
 but all in vain. On the last day of September, Wash 
 ington sat down before York, with 1OO pieces of 
 heavy artillery. On the 7th of October this dread 
 ful train began to thundtr : and the British works 
 sunk before them* Lord Cornwallis, unwilling to 
 expose his army to the destruction of a general as 
 sault, agreed on the 17th to surrender. This was 
 justly considered the close of the war; which having 
 been begun with supplication, Washington piously 
 ordered to be finished with thanksgiving. 
 
 IN the siege of Yorktown, the behaviour of the 
 Americans was, as usual, generous and noblr. The 
 amiable Col. Scammel, adjutant-general of the Ame 
 rican army, and uncommonly beloved by them, was 
 dangerously wounded and taken prisoner by some 
 British diagoons, who barbarously trotted him on 
 before them, three miles, into town, where he pre 
 sently died of fever and loss of blood. Great was 
 the mourning for Scammel. In a few nights after, 
 
Page 114. 
 
 Surrender of Lord Cormcallit. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 1U 
 
 Washington gave orders to storm two of the enemy * 
 redoubts, which were carried almost in an instant. 
 The British called for quartos: A voice of death was 
 heard, " Remember po r bcammel . "> Remember \ 
 g ntlemen, you are Americans . " was rejoined by the 
 Commander : and instantly the points of the Ameri 
 can bayonets were thrown up towards h eaven / 
 
 THE conduct of the French also, was such as to 
 entitle them to equal praise. 
 
 FOR when the British marched out to lay down 
 their arms, the French officers were seen to shed 
 tears. They condoled with the British, and tendered 
 them their purses ! Glorious proof, that God never 
 intended men to be, as some wickedly term it, natur 
 al enemies. 
 
 ON hearing in Congress the fall of Cornwallis, 
 the door-keeper swooned with joyon hearing the 
 same news announced in parliament, lord North feU 
 back in his chair, in the deepest distress. On re 
 ceipt of the glad tidings, Congress broke forth into 
 songs of praise to God : Parliament into execrations 
 against their Prime Minister -Congress hastened 
 to the temple to pay their vows to the Most High* 
 the Parliament went to St. Jameses with a petition 
 to the King for a change of men and measures* 
 The King was graciously pleased to hear the voice 
 of their prayer. Men and measures were changed.; 
 and a decree was passed that whoever should ad- 
 Vise war and a farther widening of the breach be 
 tween Britain and America, should be denounced 
 an equal enemy to both. Then lull leafed and green 
 the olive branch of peace was held out to the na 
 tions : and the eyes of millions, on both sides of the 
 \vater, were lifted in transport to the lovely sign 
 The stern features of war were relaxed $ and glad 
 dening smiles began again to brighten over the 
 * humanface divine? But Washington beheld the 
 lovely sight with doubt. Long accustomed uner 
 ringly to predict what Britain would do, from what 
 lie knew she had power to do, he had nothing t 
 , but every thing to fear, America, wkhoiftwt*- 
 
116 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ney or credit ! her officers, without a dollar in their 
 pocket, strolling about camps in long beards and dir 
 ty shirts her soldiers often without a crust in their 
 knapsacks or a dram in their canteens and her 
 citizens every where sick and tired of war ! Great- 
 Britain, on the other hand, every where victorious 
 over the fleets of her enemies completely mistress 
 of the watery world, and, Judas-like, bag-bearer of 
 its commerce and cash ! with such resources, with 
 all these trumps in her hands, will she play quits, and 
 make a drawn game of it ? Impossible ! but if she 
 should, " it must be the work of that Providence 
 " who ruleth in the armies of Heaven and earth, 
 " and whose hand has been visibly displayed in 
 " every step of our progress to independence." 
 " Nothing," continued Washington, a can remove 
 * c my doubts but an order from the ministry to re- 
 " move their fleets and armies." 
 
 THAT welcome order at length, was given ! and 
 the British troops, sprucely powdered and perfumed, 
 in eager thousands hied on board their ships. 
 
 " All hands unmoor . " the stamping boatswain cry d s 
 " All hands unmoor!" the joyous crew replied. 
 
 THEN in a moment they all fly to work. Some 
 seizing the ready handspikes, vault high upon the 
 windlasses ; thence coming down all at once with the 
 hearty Yo-heave-O, they shake the sounding decks, 
 and tear from their dark oozy beds the ponderous 
 anchors. Others, with halyards hard strained 
 through the creaking blocks, sway aloft the wide- 
 extended yards, and spread their canvas to the gale, 
 which, with increasing freshness, bears the broad- 
 winged ships in foam and thunder through the waves. 
 Great was the joy of the multitude ; for they were 
 hastening to revisit their native land, and to meet 
 those eyes of love which create a heaven in a virtu 
 ous breast. But the souls of some were sad. These 
 Were the reflecting few^ whose thoughts were on the 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 117 
 
 better hopes of former days ! To them, the flow 
 ing bowl, the lively joke, the hearty laugh and song, 
 gave no delight ; nor yet the blue fu Ids of ocean 
 brightly shining round, with all her young billows 
 wantoning before the playful breeze. Tluir country 
 ruined, and themselves repulsed, how could they re 
 joice ! Then slowly retiring from the noisy crew, by 
 themselves apart they sat on the lofty stern, high 
 above the burning track which the ships left behind 
 them in their rapid flight. There, deep in thought, 
 they sat with eyes sad fixed on the lessening shores, 
 and ruminated even to melancholy. The dismal 
 war returns upon their thoughts, with the pleasant 
 days of 76, then bright with hope, but, now, alas! 
 all darkened in despair. k * Twas then," said they, 
 44 we first approached these coasts, shaded far and 
 wide with our navies, nodding tall and stately over 
 the heaving surge. From their crowded decks 
 looked forth myriads oi blooming warriors, eagerly 
 gazing on the lovely shores, the farms, and flocks, 
 and domes, fondly regarded as their own, with all 
 the bi auteous maids, the easy purchase oi a bloodless 
 strife ! But ah, vain hope ! Washington met us in his 
 strength. His people poured around him as the 
 brindled sons of the desert around their sire, when 
 he lilts his terrible voice, and calls them from their 
 dens, to aid him in war against the mighty rhino 
 ceros. The battle raged along a thousand fields 
 a thousand streams ran purple with British gore. 
 And now of all our blooming warriors, alas! how 
 few remain! Pierced by the fatal rifle, far the greater 
 part now press their bloody beds. There, each on 
 his couch of honour, lie those who were once the 
 flower of our host. There lies the gallant Frazer, 
 the dauntless Ferguson, the accomplished Donop, 
 and that pride of youth, the generous Andre, with 
 thousands equally brave and good. But, O! ye 
 dear partners of this cruel strife, though fallen, ye 
 are not forgotten ! Often, with tears do we see you 
 still, as when you rejoiced with us at the feast, or 
 
118 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 fought by our sides in battle. But vain was all our 
 valour. God fought for Washington. Hence our 
 choicest troops are fallen before him ; and we, the 
 sad remains of war, are now returning, inglorious, 
 to our native shores. Land of the graves of He 
 roes, farewell ! Ghosts of the noble cK ad ! chide not 
 the steps of our departure ! ye are left: but it is in 
 the land of brothers, who often mourned the death 
 which their valour gave. But now the unnatural 
 strife is past, and peace returns. And O ! with 
 peace may that spirit return which once warmed 
 the hearts ot Americans towards their British 
 brethren, when the sight of our tall ships was wont 
 to spread joy along their shores ; and when the plan 
 ter, viewing his cototn-covered fields, rejoiced that 
 he was preparing employment and bread for thou 
 sands of our poor ! !" 
 
 THE hostile fleets and armies thus withdrawn, 
 and the Independence of his country acknowledged ; 
 
 Washington proceeded, at the command of Congress, 
 
 *~ ,r.~u i *u.,, i f r> .:_ . i P t, 
 
 tt_> \jiawtinu uic my : 10 uns event, tnougn or ait 
 
 others the dearest to his heart, he had ever looked 
 forward with trembling anxiety. Loving his soldiers 
 as his children, how could he tell them the painful 
 truth which the poverty of his country had imposed 
 on him ? How could he tell them, that after all they 
 had done and suffered with him, they must now 
 ground their arms, and return home, many of them 
 without a decent suit on their backs, or a penny in 
 their pockets ? 
 
 BUT he was saved the pain of making this com 
 munication; for they soon received it from another 
 quarter, and with circumstances calculated to kindle 
 the fiercest indignation against thuir country. Let 
 ters were industriously circulated through the army, 
 painting in the strongest colours, their unparalleled 
 sufferings, and the ingratitude of Congress. 
 
 u CONFIDING in her honour," said the writer, 
 44 did you not cheerfully enlist in the service of your 
 44 country, and for her dear sake encounter all the 
 " evils of a soldier s life ? Have you not beaten the 
 
iL OF WASHINGTON. 119 
 
 ice-bound road full many a wintry day, without 
 a shoe to your bleeding feet ; and wasted the long 
 
 4 bitter night, without a tent, to shelter your heads 
 44 from the pelting storm ? Have you not borne the 
 44 brunt af many a bloody fight, and, from the hands 
 44 of hard struggling foes, torn the glorious prize, 
 44 YOUR COUNTRY S INDEPENDENCE ? And now after 
 44 all after wasting in her service the flower of your 
 44 days with bodies broken under arms, and bones 
 44 with the pains and aches of a seven year s war, 
 14 will you suffer yourselves to be sent home in rags 
 44 to your families, to spend the sad remains of life 
 44 in poverty and scorn ? No ! my brothers in arms ! 
 44 I trust you will not. I trust you bear no such 
 44 coward minds. I trust, that after having fought 
 44 so bravely for the rights of others, you will now 
 44 fight a^ bravely for your own rights. And now is 
 44 the accepted time and golden hour of redress, 
 44 while you have weapons in your hands, the 
 44 strength of an army to support you, and a beloved 
 u General at your head, ready to lead you to that 
 44 Justice which you owe to yourselves, and, which 
 44 you have so long but vainly expected from an un- 
 * 4 grateful country." 
 
 THESE letters produced, as might have been ex 
 pected, a most alarming effect. Rage, like a fire in 
 secret, began to burn throughout the camp. Wash 
 ington soon perceived it. He discovered it in his 
 Soldiers, as, gathered into groupes, they stood and 
 murmured over their grievances, while, with furious 
 looks and gestures, they stamped on the earth, and 
 hurled their curses against Congress. Gladdening 
 at such success of his first letters, the writer instant 
 ly sent around a second series, still more artful and 
 inflammatory than the first. Thepassionsof the army 
 now rose to a height that threatened instantaneous 
 explosion. But still their eyes, beaming reverence 
 and love, were turned towards their honoured chief, 
 to whom they had ever looked as to a father. 
 
 OFTEN had they marked his tears, as, visiting their 
 encainpments, he beheld them suffering and sinking 
 
120 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 under fevers and fluxes, for want of clothes and pro 
 visions. Often, had they hushed their complaints, 
 trusting to his promises that Congress would still 
 remember them. But behold ! his promises and 
 their hopes are all alike abortive ! 
 
 AND will not Washington, the friend of justice 
 and father of his army, avenge them on a government 
 which has thus basely defrauded them, and deceived 
 him ? There needed but a glance of his approbation 
 to set the whole army in motion. Instantly with fixed 
 bayonets they would have hurled the hated Congress 
 from their seats, and placed their beloved Washing 
 ton on the throne of St. Tammany. Here, nodoubt, 
 the tempter fl ished the dangerous diadem before the 
 eyes of our Countryman. But Religion at the same 
 time, pointed him to the GREAT LOVER OF ORDER, 
 h >lding up th.it crown, in comparison of which the 
 diadems of kings are but dross. Animated with such 
 hopes he had long cherished that ardent philanthro 
 py which sighs for liberty to all countries, and es 
 pecially to his own. For Liberty he had fought and 
 c mquered ; and now considered it, with all its bless 
 ings, as at hand. u Tet a little while, and America 
 14 shall become the glory of the earth a nation of 
 u Brothers, enjoying the golden reign of equal laws, 
 <4 and rejoicing under their own vine and fig-tree, 
 44 and no tyrant to make them afraid. And shall 
 44 these glorious prospects be darkened ? shall they 
 * 4 be dance-lied by WASHINGTON ! shall he, ever the 
 u friend of his country, become her bitterest enemy, 
 44 by fixing upon her again the iron yoke ot monar- 
 44 chy ? shall he ! the Father of his army, become 
 44 their assassin, by establishing a government that 
 44 sh.ill swallow up their liberties forever?" 
 
 THE id-a filled his s ul with horror. Instead, 
 therefore, of tamely yielding to the wishes of his ar 
 my to their oivn rum, he bravely opposes them to 
 their \.r\\t good: and instead of drinking in, with trai 
 torous smile, the hosaunas that would have made 
 hi ai king, he darkens his brow of parental displeasure 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 121 
 
 at their impiety. He flies to extinguish their rising 
 rebellion. He addresses letters to the officers of the 
 army, desiring them to meet him at an appointed 
 time and place. Happily lor America, the voice of 
 Washington still sounded in their ears, as the voice of 
 a father. His officers, to a man, all gathered around 
 him; while, with a countenance inspiring veneration 
 and love, he arose and addressed the eager-listening 
 chiefs. He began with reminding them of the great 
 object for which they had first drawn their swords, 
 i. e. THE LIBERTY OF THEIR COUNTRY. He ap 
 plauded that noble spirit with which they had sub 
 mitted to so many privations combated so many 
 dangers and overcome so many difficulties. And 
 now, said he, after having thus waded, like Israel of 
 old, through a Red Sea of blood, and withstood the 
 thundering Sinais of British fury; after having crush 
 ed the fiery serpents of Indian rifles, and trampled 
 down those insidious Amalekites, the tories after 
 having travelled through a howling wilderness of 
 war, and, with the ark of your country s liberties in 
 camp, safely arrived on the borders of Canaan, and in 
 sight of the glorious end of all your labours, will 
 you now give yourselves up the dupes of a u Britisi 
 tmissar^_" and for the sordid flesh-pots of a few 
 months pay, rush into civil war, and fall back to a 
 worse than Egyptian bondage ? No ! my brave coun 
 trymen: I trust you will not : I trust, that an army so 
 famed throughout the world for patriotism, will yet 
 maintain its reputation. 1 trust, that your behaviour 
 on this last, this most trying occasion, will fill up the 
 measure of your heroism, and stamp the American 
 character with never-dying fame. You have achiev 
 ed miracles. But a greater miracle still remains to 
 be achieved. We have had the glory to conquer our 
 enemies ; now for the greater glory to conquer our 
 selves. Other armies, after subduing the enemies 
 of their country, have themselves, for power and plun 
 der, become her tyrants, and trampled her liberties 
 under foot. Be it our nobler ambition, after suffer- 
 M 
 
122 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ings unparalleled for our needy country, to return 
 cheerful, though pennyless, to our homes; and pa 
 tiently wait the rewards which her gratitude will, 
 one day, assuredly bestow. In the mean time, beating 
 our swords into ploughshares, and our bayonets into 
 reaping hooks, let us, as peaceful citizens, cultivate 
 those fields from which, as victorious soldiers, we 
 lately drove the enemy. Thence, as from the noblest 
 of theatres, you will display a spectacle of patriot 
 ism never seen before. You will teach the delight 
 ed world, that men are capable of finding a heaven in 
 noble actions : and you will give occasion to posterity 
 to say, when speaking of your present behaviour, 
 had this day been wanting, the triumph of our fa 
 thers virtues would have been incomplete." 
 
 As he spoke, his cheeks, naturally pale, were red 
 dened over with virtue s pure vermilion: while his 
 eyes, of ccerulean blue, were kindled up with those 
 indescribable fires which fancy lends to an angel ora 
 tor, animating poor mortals to the sublimest of god- 
 -r> deeds. His words were not in vain. From lips 
 of wisdom, and long-tried love, like his, such counsel 
 wrought as though an oracle had spoken. Instantly 
 a committee of the whole was formed, with general 
 Knox at their head, who, in thirty minutes, ^ported 
 the following resolutions, which were untfiJmously 
 adopted : 
 
 " RESOLVED that having engaged in the war 
 " from motives of the purest love and zeal for the 
 u rights of man, no circumstance of distress or dan- 
 " ger shall ever induce us to sully the glory we have 
 " acquired at the price of our blood, and eight years 
 " faithful service. 
 
 " RESOLVED -that we continue to have an unsha- 
 u ken confidence in the justice of congress and our 
 u country. 
 
 " RESOLVED that we view with abhorrence, and 
 u reject with disdain, the infamous proposition con- 
 u tained in a late anonymous address to the 
 " of the armv." 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 123 
 
 THE officers then hasted back to their troops, who 
 had been impatiently expecting them ; and related 
 Washington s speech. They also stated as his firm 
 conviction, that u the claims of every soldier would 
 u be liquidated ; his accounts accurately ascertained; 
 " and adequate funds provided for the payment of 
 " them, as soon as the circumstances of the nation 
 " would permit." 
 
 THE soldiers listened to this communication with 
 attention ; and heard the close of it without a mur 
 mur. " They had no great opinion, they said, of con 
 gress but having gone such lengths for duty and 
 old George, they supposed they might as weU now 
 go a little farther, and make thorough work of it. A 
 little pay would, to be sure, have been very welcome : 
 and it was a poor military chest that could not afford 
 a single dollar, especially as some of them had hun 
 dreds of miles to their homes. But surely the peo 
 ple won t let us starve for a meal s victuals by the 
 way, especially after we have been so long fighting 
 their battles. So, in God s name, we ll even shoul 
 der our knapsacks, whenever our old general shall 
 say the word." 
 
 THE next day the breaking up of the army began, 
 which was conducted in the following manner: The 
 troops after breakfast were ordered under arms. On 
 receiving notice that they were ready to move, Wash 
 ington with his aids, rode out on the plains of their 
 encampment, where he sat on his horse awaiting their 
 arrival. The troops got in motion, and with fifes 
 and muffled drums playing the mournful air of JRos- 
 lin Castle, marched up for the last time, into his 
 presence. Every countenance was shrouded in sor 
 row. At a signal given, they grounded their arms. 
 Then, waving their hats, and faintly crying out " God 
 save great Washington" through watery eyes they 
 gave him a long adieu, and wheeled off in files for 
 their native homes. With pensive looks his eye pur 
 sued them as they retired, wide spreading over the 
 fields. But when he saw those brave troops who had 
 so long obevd him, and who had just given such an 
 
124 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 evidence of their affection when he saw them slow 
 ly descending behind the distant hills, shortly to dis 
 appear for ever, then nature stirred all the father 
 within him, and gave him up to tears. But he wept 
 not " as these without hope" He rejoiced in the 
 remembrance of HIM who treasures up the toils of 
 the virtuous, and will, one day, bestow that reward 
 which u this -world cannot give" 
 
 BUT the whole army was not disbanded at once. 
 Shortly after this he went down to New- York to 
 finish what remained of his duty as commander in 
 chief, and to prepare to return home. On the last 
 day that he was there, it being known that he meant 
 to set out for Virginia at one o clock, all his officers, 
 who happened to be in town, assembled at Francis s 
 tavern, where he lodged, to bid him a last farewell. 
 About half after twelve the general entered the 
 room, where an elegant collation was spread : but 
 none tasted it. Conversation was attempted : but it 
 failed. As the clock struck one, the general went 
 to the side-board, and filling out some wine, turned 
 to his officers, and begged they would join him in a 
 glass. Then, with a look of sorrow and a faltering 
 voice, he said, " Well my brave brothers in arms, we 
 
 " part perhaps to meet in this life no more. And 
 
 " now I pray God to take you all in his holy keeping, 
 u and render your latter days as prosperous as the 
 u past have been glorious." 
 
 SOON as they had drunk, he beckoned to general 
 Knox, who approached and pressed his hand in tears 
 of delicious silence. The officers all followed his 
 example ; while their manly cheeks, swollen with 
 grief, bespoke sensations too strong for utterance. 
 This tender scene being over, he moved towards the 
 door, followed by his officers. By this time the street 
 from the hotel to the river was filled with light in 
 fantry, and thousands of citizens, who all attended 
 him in silence to the water-side, where he was to 
 take boat. Here another pleasing proof of esteem 
 was given him. Instead of the common ferry boat, a 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 125 
 
 barge magnificently decorated, was reaciy to receive 
 him, with the American jack and colors flying, and 
 manned with thirteen sea captains, all in elegant 
 blue uniforms. On stepping aboard the barge, he 
 turned towards the people, who stood in vast crowds 
 on the shore ; and waving his hat, bade them a silent 
 adieu, which they in like solemn manner returned, 
 all waving their hats, and without speaking a word. 
 Having received their honoured freight, the sons of 
 Neptune, ready with well poised oars, leap forward 
 to the coxswain s call ; then, all at once falling back, 
 with sudden stroke they flash their bending blades 
 into the yielding flood. Swift at their stroke the 
 barge sprung from the shore ; and, under the music 
 of echoing row-locks, flew through the waves, fol 
 lowed by the eager gaze of the pensive thousands. 
 The sighing multitude then turned away from the 
 shore with feelings whose source they did not, per 
 haps, understand. But some, on returning to their 
 homes, spoke to their listening children of what 
 they had seen, and of the honours which belong to 
 such virtue as Washington s. 
 
 HE lodged that night at Elizabethtown, fifteen: 
 miles from New- York. The next morning, elate with 
 thoughts of home, he ascended his chariot ; and with 
 bounding steeds drove on his way through the lovely 
 country of New-Jersey. This no doubt, was the 
 pleasantest ride by far that he had known since the 
 dark days of 75. For though joyless winter was 
 spread abroad with her cold clouds, and winds shrill 
 whistling over the flowerless fields ; yet to his pa 
 triot eye the face of nature shone brighter than in 
 latter years, when clad in springtide green and gold 
 for it was covered over with the bright mantle of 
 peace. His shoulders were freed from the burden of 
 public cares, and his heart from the anxieties of su 
 preme command. With a father s joy he couia IOOK 
 around on the thick settled country, with all its 
 little ones, and flocks, and herds, now no longer ex 
 posed to danger. 
 
 M 2 
 
126 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 * Happy farmers ! the long winter of war is past 
 and gone the spring time of PEACE is returned, and 
 the voice of her dove is heard in our land. Restore 
 your wasted farms. Spread abroad the fertilizing 
 manure : and prepare again to crown your war worn 
 fields with joyful crops." 
 
 " HAPPY children ! now pour forth again in safety 
 to your schools. Treasure up the golden knowledge; 
 and make yourselves the future glory and guardians 
 of your country." 
 
 HAPPY citizens ! hasten to rebuild the ruined 
 temples of your God. And lift your glad songs to 
 HIM, the great ruler of war, who aided your feeble 
 arms, and trampled down the mighty enemy beneath 
 your feet." 
 
 BUT often, amidst these happy thoughts, the 
 swift-wheeled chariot would bring him in view of 
 fields on which his bleeding memory could not dwell 
 without a tear " There the battling armies met in 
 thunder. The stormy strife was short. But yonder 
 mournful hillocks point the place where many of our 
 brave heroes sleep ; perhaps some good angel has 
 whispered that their fall was not in vain." 
 
 ON his journey homewards, he stopped for a mo 
 ment at Philadelphia, to do an act, \vhich to a mind 
 proudly honest like his, must have been a sublime 
 treat. He stopped to present to the comptroller-ge 
 neral an account of all the public monies which he 
 had spent. Though this account was in his own 
 hand writing, and accompanied with the proper 
 vouchers, yet it will hardly be credited by European 
 statesmen and generals, that, in the course of an eight 
 years war, he had spent only 12,497/.8y.9< sterling! ! 
 
 FROM Philadelphia he hastened on to Annapolis, 
 where congress was then in session, that he might 
 return to that honourable body the commission with 
 which they had entrusted him. 
 
 HAVING always disliked parade, he wished to make 
 ms resignation in writing. But congress, it seems, 
 willed otherwise. To see a man voluntarily giving 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 1 27 
 
 up power, was SL spectatcle not to be met with every 
 day. And that they might have the pleasure of see 
 ing him in this last, and perhaps greatest, act of his 
 public life, they expressed a wish to receive his re 
 signation from his own hand at a full audience. The 
 next day, the 23d of December, 1783, was appointed 
 for the purpose. At an early hour the house was 
 crowded. The members of congress, with the gran 
 dees of the land, filled the floors. The ladies sparkled 
 in the galleries. At eleven o clock, Washington was 
 ushered into the house, and conducted to a seat which 
 had been prepared for him, covered with red velvet. 
 After a becoming pause, and information given by 
 the president, that the United States in congress 
 assembled were ready to receive his communication, 
 he arose ; and with great brevity and modesty obser 
 ved, that he had presented himself before them, to re 
 sign into their hands with satisfaction the commission 
 which, eight years before, he had accepted with diffi 
 dence. He begged to offer them his sincerest con 
 gratulations for the glorious result of their uni 
 ted struggles ; took no part of the praise to him 
 self; but ascribed all to the blessing of Heaven on 
 the exertions of the nation. Then fervently com 
 mending his dearest country to the protection of Al 
 mighty God, he bade them an affectionate farewell ; 
 and taking leave of all the employments of public 
 life, surrendered up his commission ! 
 
 SELDOM has there been exhibited so charming a 
 display of the power which pre-eminent virtue pos 
 sesses over the human heart, as on this occasion. 
 Short and simple as was the speech of Washington, 
 yet it seems to have carried back every trembling 
 imagination to the fearful days of 75, when the Bri 
 tish fleets and armies were thundering on our coasts, 
 and when nothing was talked of but slavery, confis 
 cation, and executions. And now they saw before 
 them the man to whom they all looked for safety in 
 that gloomy time who had completely answered 
 their fond hopes who had stood hv them incorrup- 
 
128 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 tible and unshaken had anticipated their mighty ene 
 my in all his plans had met him at every point had 
 thwarted, defeated, and blasted all his hopes and, 
 victory after victory won, had at length laid his strong 
 legions in dust or in chains and had secured to his 
 country a glorious independence, with the fairest 
 chance of being one of the most respectable and hap 
 py nations of the earth and, in consequence of all 
 this, had so completely won the hearts of his army 
 and his nation, that he could perhaps have made him 
 self their master. At all events, a Caesar or a Crom 
 well would, at the hazard of a million of lives, made 
 the sacrilegious attempt. Yet they now saw this man 
 scorning to abuse his power to the degradation of his 
 country, but on the contrary, treating her with the 
 most sacred respect dutifully bowing before her 
 delegated presence, the congress cheerfully return 
 ing the commission she had entrusted him with 
 piously laying down his extensive powers at her 
 feet and modestly falling back into the humble con 
 dition of the rest of her children. The sight of their 
 great countryman, already so beloved, and now acting 
 so generous, so godlike a part, produced an effect 
 beyond the power of words to express. Their feel 
 ings of admiration and affection were too delicious, 
 too big for utterance. Every countenance was swollen 
 with sentiment : and delicious tears moistened every 
 eye, which, though a silent, was perhaps the richest 
 offering of veneration and esteem ever paid to a hu 
 man being. 
 
 HAVING discharged this last great debt to his coun 
 try, the next morning, early, he ascended his chariot; 
 and listened with joy to the rattling wheels, nov/ run 
 ning off his last day s journey to Mount Vernon. Ah ! 
 could gloomy tyrants but feel what Washington felt 
 that day, when, sweeping along the road, with grateful 
 heart, he revolved the mighty work which he had 
 finished his country saved and his conscience clear; 
 they would tear off the accursed purple, and, starting 
 rfom their blood-stain-ed thrones, like Washington, 
 seek true hapoiness in making others happy. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 O WASHINGTON! thrice glorious name, 
 
 What due rewards can man decree ? 
 
 Empires are far below thy aim, 
 
 And sceptres have no charms for thee ; 
 
 Duty alone has thy regard, 
 
 In her thou seek st thy great reward. 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 Washington again on his farm sketch of his conduct 
 the-re suggests the importance of inland naviga 
 tion companies forming urges a reform of the 
 old constitution appointed President of the Unit 
 ed States great difficulties to encounter glori 
 ously surmounts them. 
 
 TO be happy in every situation is a proof of wis 
 dom seldom afforded by man. It proves that the 
 icart is set on that which alone can ever completely 
 satisfy it, i. e. the imitation of God in benevolent 
 ind useful life. This was the happy case with Wash- 
 ngton. To establish in his country the golden reign 
 )f liberty is his grand wish. In the accomplishment 
 )f this he seeks his happiness. He abhors war ; but, 
 if war be necessary, to this end he bravely encoun 
 ters it. His ruling passion must be obeyed. He 
 jeat his ploughshare into a sword, and exchanged 
 ;he peace and pleasures of his farm for the din and 
 dangers of the camp. Having won the great prize 
 for which he contended, he returns to his plough. 
 His military habits are laid by with the same ease as 
 ic would throw off an old coat. The camp with all 
 its parade and noise, is forgotten. He awakes, in 
 lis silent chambers at Mount Vernon, without sigh- 
 ng for the sprightly drums and fifes that used to sa- 
 
130 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 lute him every morning. Happy among his domes 
 tics, he does not regret the shining ranks of patriot 
 soldiers that used to pay him homage. The useful ci 
 tizen is the high character he wishes to act his sword 
 turned into a ploughshare is his favourite instrument; 
 and his beloved farm his stage. Agriculture had been 
 always his delight. To breathe the pure healthful air 
 of a. farm, perfumed with odorous flowers, and enrich 
 ed with golden harvests, and with numerous flocks and 
 herds, appeared to him a life nearest connected with 
 individual and national happiness. To this great ob 
 ject he turns all his attention bends all his exertions. 
 He writes to the most skilful farmers, not only in 
 America, but in England (for Washington was inca 
 pable of bearing malice against a people who had 
 been reconciled to his country ;) he writes, I say, to 
 the ablest farmers in America and England, for in 
 structions how best to cultivate and improve his 
 landswhat grains, what grasses, what manures 
 would best suit his soils ; what shrubs are fittest for 
 fences, and what animals for labour. 
 
 BUT, to a soul large and benevolent like his, to 
 beautify his own farm, and to enrich his own family, 
 seemed like doing nothing. To see the whole nation 
 engaged in glorious toils, filling themselves with 
 plenty, and inundating the sea ports with food and rai 
 ment for the poor and needy of distant nations this 
 was his godlike ambition. But, knowing that his be 
 loved countrymen could not long enjoy the honour 
 and advantage of such glorious toils, unless they could 
 easily convey their swelling harvests to their own 
 markets, he hastened to rouse them to a proper sense 
 of the infinite importance of forming canals and cuts 
 between all the fine rivers that run through the Uni 
 ted States. To give the greater weight to his coun 
 sel, he had first ascended the sources of those great 
 rivers ascertained the distance between them the 
 obstacles in the way of navigation and the probable 
 expence of removing them. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 131 
 
 AGREEABLE to his wishes, two wealthly companies 
 were soon formed to extend the navigation of James 
 River and Potomac, the noblest rivers in Virginia. 
 Struck with the exceeding benefit which both them 
 selves and their country would speedily derive from a 
 plan which he had not only suggested, but had ta 
 ken such pains and expence to recommend, they 
 pressed him to accept one hundred and fifty shares of 
 the company s stock, amounting to near 40,000 dol 
 lars ! But he instantly refused it, saying, u what will 
 " the world think if they should hear that I have 
 " taken 40,000 dollars for this affair ? Will they not 
 " be apt to suspect, on my next proposition, that mo- 
 u ney is my motive ? Thus, for the sake of money, 
 " which indeed I neve^ coveted from my country, I 
 " may lose the power to do her some service, which 
 " may be worth more than all money ! !" 
 
 BUT, while engaged in this goodly work, he was 
 suddenly alarmed by the appearance of an evil, which 
 threatened to put an end to all his well-meant labours 
 for ever this was, the incipient dissolution of the 
 federal government ! ! The framers of that fair but 
 flimsy fabric, having put it together according to 
 the square and compass of equal rights and mutual 
 interests, thought they had done enough. The good 
 sense and virtue of the nation, it was supposed, would 
 form a foundation of rock whereon it would safe 
 ly rest, in spite of all commotions, foreign or do-> 
 mestic. 
 
 " BUT, alas !" said Washington, " experience has 
 shown, that men, unless constrained, will seldom do 
 what is lor their own good. With joy I once beheld 
 my country feeling the liveliest sense of her rights, 
 and maintaining them with a spirit apportioned to 
 their worth. With joy I have seen all the wise men 
 of Europe looking on her with admiration, and all the 
 good with hope, that her fair example would rege 
 nerate the old world, and restore the blessings of 
 equal government to long oppressed HUMANITY. But 
 alas ! in place of maintaining this glorious attitude, 
 
132 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 America is herself rushing into disorder and disso 
 lution. We have powers sufficient for self-defence 
 and glory ; but those powers are not exerted. For 
 fear congress should abuse it, the people will not 
 trust their power with congress. Foreigners insult 
 and injure us with impunity ; for congress has no 
 power to chastise them. Ambitious men stir up 
 factions. Congress possesses no power to coerce 
 them. Public creditors call for their money. Con 
 gress has no power to collect it. In short, we can 
 not long subsist as a nation, without lodging some 
 where a power that may command the full energies 
 of the nation for defence from all its enemies, and 
 for the supply of all its wants. The people will soon 
 fee tired of such a government. They will sigh for a 
 change : and many of them already begin to talk of 
 monarchy, without horror !" 
 
 IN this, as in all cases of apprehended danger, his 
 pen knew no rest. The leading characters of the 
 nation were roused : and a CONVENTION was formed, 
 of deputies from the several states, to revise and 
 amend the general government. Of this convention 
 Washington was unanimously chosen president. 
 Their session commenced in Philadelphia, May, 1787, 
 and ended in October. The fruit of their six months 
 labour was the present excellent CONSTITUTION, 
 which was no sooner adopted, than the eyes of the 
 whole nation were fixed on him for president. 
 
 BEING now in his 57th year, and wedded to his 
 farm and family, he had no wish to enter again into 
 the cares and dangers of public life. Kase was now 
 become almost as necessary as it was dear to him. 
 His reputation was already at the highest ; and as to 
 money, in the service of his country he had always* 
 refused it. These things considered, together with 
 his acknowledged modesty and disinterestedness, 
 we can hardly doubt the correctness of his declaration, 
 that, " the call to the magistracy was the most un 
 welcome he had ever heard." 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 133 
 
 HOWEVER, as soon as it was officially notified to 
 him, in thti spring ot" 1789, that he was unani mmsly 
 elected President of the United States, and that Con 
 gress, then sitting in New- York, was impatient to see 
 him in the chair, he set out for that city. Then all 
 along the roads where he passed, were seen the most 
 charming proofs of that enthusiasm with which the 
 hearts of all delighted to honour him. If it was only 
 said, "General Washington is coming" it was enough. 
 The inhabitants all hastened from their houses to the 
 highways, to have a sight of their great countryman ; 
 while the people of the towns, hearing of his approach, 
 sallied out, horse and foot, to meet him. In eager 
 throngs, men, women, and children pressed upon his 
 steps, as waves in crowding ridges pursue the course 
 of a ship through the ocean. And as a new succes 
 sion of waves is ever ready to take the place of those 
 which have just ended their chase in playful foam, 
 so it was with the ever-gathering crowds that fol 
 lowed their Washington. 
 
 44 On reaching the western banks of Schuylkill," 
 said a gentleman who was present, u I was astonished 
 44 at the concourse of people that overspread the coun- 
 44 try, apparently from Gray s ferry to the city. In- 
 44 deed one would have thought that the whole popu- 
 44 lation of Philadelphia was come out to meet him. 
 * And to see so many thousands of people on foot, 
 44 on horseback, and in coaches, all voluntarily wait- 
 * 4 ing upon and moving along with one man, struck 
 44 me with strangely agreeable sensations. Surely, 
 44 thought I, there must be a divinity in goodness, 
 44 that mankind should thus delight to honour it." 
 
 His reception at Trenton was more than flattering. 
 It was planned, they said, by the ladies, and indeed 
 bore marks that it could have been done only by 
 them. The reader must remember, that it was near 
 this place that the fair sex in 76 suffered such cruel 
 indignities from the enemy; anH that it was here 
 that Providence in the same year enabled Washing 
 
 N 
 
134 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ton so severely to chastise them for it. The women 
 are not apt to forget their benefactors. Hearing that 
 Washington was on his way to Trenton, they instantly 
 held a caucus among themselves, to devise ways and 
 means to display their gratitude to him. Under their 
 direction, the bridge over the Sanpink, (a narrow 
 creek running through Trenton, upon whose opposite 
 banks Washington and the British once fought,) was 
 decorated with a triumphal arch, with this inscription 
 in large figures : 
 
 DECEMBER 26, 1776. 
 
 THE HERO WHO DEFENDED THE MO 
 THERS, WILL ALSO PROTECT 
 THE DAUGHTERS. 
 
 HE approached the bridge on its south side, amidst 
 the heartiest shouts of congratulating thousands; while 
 on the north side were drawn up several hundreds of 
 little girls, dressed in snow-white robes, with temples 
 adorned with garlands, and baskets of flowers on their 
 arms. Just behind them stood long rows of young vir 
 gins, whose fair faces, of sweetest red and white, high 
 ly animated by the occasion, looked quite angelic 
 and, behind them, in crowds, stood their venerable 
 mothers. As Washington slowly drove off the bridge, 
 the female voices all began, sweet as the first wakings 
 wr the Eolian harp : and thus they rolled the song : 
 
 44 Welcome, mighty chief! once more 
 44 Welcome to this grateful shore. 
 44 Now no mercenary foe 
 44 Aims again the fatal blow, 
 44 Aims at thee the fatal blow. 
 
 44 Virgins fair, and matrons grave, 
 44 (These thy conquering arm did save !) 
 14 Build for thee triumphal bowers. 
 4 Strew, ye fair, his way with flowers ; 
 Strew your hero s way with flowers.** 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 135 
 
 WHILE singing the last lines, they strewed the way 
 with flowers before him. 
 
 SOME have said that they could see in his altered 
 looks, that he remembered the far different scenes of 
 76 ; for that they saw him wipe a tear. No doubt 
 twas the sweet tear of gratitude to him who had pre 
 served him to see this happy day. 
 
 AT New-York the behaviour of the citizens was 
 equally expressive of the general veneration and es 
 teem. The ships in the harbour were all dressed in 
 their flags and streamers ; and the wharves where he 
 landed were rchly decorated. At the water s edge 
 he was received by an immense concourse of the 
 joyful citizens ; and, amidst the mingled thunder of 
 guns and acclamations, was conducted to his lodg 
 ings. Such honours would have intoxicated most 
 men : but to a mind like his, habitually conversant 
 with the far sublimer subjects of the Christian philo 
 sophy, they must have looked quite puerile. Indeed 
 it appears from a note made in his journal that very 
 evening, that he regarded all these marks of public 
 favour rather as calls to humility than pride. u The 
 44 display of aoats on this occasion," says he, " with 
 44 vocal and instrumental music on board, the deco- 
 44 rations of the ships, the roar of cannon, and the 
 44 loud acclamations of the people, as I passed along 
 44 the wharves, gave me as much pain as pleasure, 
 44 contemplating the probable reverse of this scene 
 44 after all my endeavours to do good." 
 
 IT was on the 23d of April, 1789, that he arrived 
 in New-York : and on the 30th, after taking the oath, 
 as president of the United States, to preserve, pro 
 tect, and defend the constitution, he entered upon the 
 duties of his office. 
 
 As things then stood, even his bitterest enemies, if 
 he had any, might have said, " happy man be his dole!" 
 for he came to the helm in a perilous and fearful sea 
 son. Like chaos, u in the olden time," our government 
 was "-without form and void: and darkness dwelt upon 
 the face of the deep." Enemies innumerable threatened 
 
*36 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the rountry, both from within and without, abroad 
 and at home the people of three continents at dag 
 gers drawn with the young republic of America ! 
 
 THE pirates of Morocco laying their uncircumcised 
 hands on our rich commerce in the Mediterranean. 
 
 THE British grumbling and threatening war. 
 
 THE Spaniards shutting up the Mississippi! 
 
 THE Kentuckians in great warmth, threatening to 
 break the union, and join the Spaniards ! 
 
 THE Indian nations, from Canada to Georgia, un- 
 burying the tomahawk ! 
 
 NORTH-CAROLINA and Rhode-Islard, blowing on 
 the confederacy ! strong parties in other states against 
 it! and an alarming insurrection in Massachusetts! 
 "While, to combat all these enemies, the United States 
 had but 60O regular troops ! ! and, though eighty mil 
 lions of dollars in debt, they had not one cent in the 
 treasury ! ! ! Here, certainly, if ever, was the time to 
 try a man s soul. But Washington despaired not. 
 Glowing with the love of his country, and persuaded 
 that his country still enjoyed an opportunity to be 
 great and happy, he resolved, whatever it might cost 
 him, that nothing shouM be wanting on his part to 
 fill up the measure of her glory. But first of all, in 
 his inaugural speech, he called upon Congress and his 
 countrymen, to look up to (iocl for his blessing; next, 
 as to themselves, to be most industrious, honourable, 
 and united, as became men responsible to ages yet 
 unborn, for all the blessings of a republican govern 
 ment, 7ioiv, and perhaps for the last time, at stake, on 
 their wisdom and virtue ; then as to himself; "7 
 eelC 9 said he, " my incompetency of political skill and 
 abilities. Integrity and firmness are all I can promise. 
 These, I knoiv* will nev -r forsake me, although I may 
 be deserted by all men: and of the consolations to be 
 derived from these, under no circumstances can the 
 world ever deprive me" And last of all, as, in a 
 crazv ship at sra, tossed by furious winds, no pilot 
 can save without the aid of able seamen, Washington 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 137 
 
 prudently rallied around him the wisest of all his 
 countrymen. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, secretary of foreign affairs. 
 
 Col. Hamilton, secretary of the treasury. 
 
 Gen. Knox, secretary of war. 
 
 Edmund Randolph, attorney general. 
 
 John Jay, chief justice. 
 
 John Rutledge, 
 
 James Wilson, 
 
 John Gushing, j> Associate Judges. 
 
 Robert Harrison, 
 
 John Blair, 
 
 THESE judicious preparations being made for the 
 storm, (Heaven s blessing invoked, and the ablest 
 pilots embarked with him,) Washington then seked 
 the helm, with a gallant hard-a-lee ; luffed up his 
 ship at once to the gale, hoping yet to shoot the 
 hideous gulfs that threatened all around. 
 
 His first attention was turned to the call of Huma 
 nity, i. e. to satisfy and make peace with the Indians. 
 This was soon done ; partly by presents, and by estab 
 lishing, in their country, houses of fair trade, which, 
 by preventing frauds, prevent those grudges that lead 
 to private murders, and thence to public disturbances 
 and wars. Some of the Indian tribes, despising these 
 friendly efforts of Washington, were obliged to be 
 drubbed into peace, which service was done for them 
 by General Wayne, in 1794 but not until many lives 
 had been lost in preceding defeats ; owing chiefly, it 
 was said, to the very intemperate passions and pota 
 tions of some of their officers. However, after the first 
 shock, the loss of these poor souls was not much la 
 mented. Tall young fellows, who could easily get 
 their half dollar a day at the healthful and glorious 
 labours of the plough, to go and enlist and rust 
 among the lice and itch of a camp, for/c?/r dollars a 
 month, were certainly not worth their country s crv 
 ing about. 
 N2 
 
138 LIFE OF AVASHINGTON. 
 
 WASHINGTON S friendly overtures to Spain were 
 frjualh fortunate. Believing that he desired nothing 
 but what was perfectly just, and what both (iod and 
 man would support him in, she presently agreed to 
 negotiate* I he navigation of the Mississippi was 
 given up. The Kentuckians were satisfied : and 
 Spain and the United States lived on good terms all 
 the rest of his days. 
 
 WASHINGTON then tried his hands with the British. 
 But alas ! he soon tound that they were not made of 
 such pliable stuff as the Indians and Spaniards. Nor 
 had he the British alone to complain of. He pre 
 sently found it as hard to satisfy his oivn countrymen, 
 in the matter of a treaty, as to please them. 
 
 FOR whether it was that the two nations still retain 
 ed a most unchristian recollection of what they had 
 suffered from one another during the past war or 
 whether, more unchristianly still, they felt the odioua 
 spirit of rivals, and sickened at each other s prospe 
 rity or whether each nation thought that the ships 
 of the other were navigated by their seamen ; but so 
 it was, that the prejudices of the two people, though 
 sprung from the same progenitors, ran so high as to 
 render it extremely difficult for Washington to settle 
 matters between them. But it was at length happily 
 effected, without the horrors of another war. Though 
 the treaty which brought about this desirable event 
 was entirely execrated by great numbers of sensible 
 and honest men no doubt, yet Washington, led, as 
 he says, by duty and humanity, ratified it. 
 
 IF the signing of the treaty displayed his firmness, 
 the operation of it has, perhaps, shown his wisdom. 
 For, surely, since that time, no country like this ever 
 so progressed in the public and private blessings of 
 industry, wealth, population, and morals. Whether 
 greater, or, indeed, equal blessings would have re 
 sulted from a bloody war with England at that time,, 
 ct others determine. 
 BUT scarcely had Washington got clear of his em 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 139 
 
 barrassments with Britain, before still worse were 
 thrown in his way by France. 
 
 THE cause was this. u The French army," as doc 
 tor Franklin observes, " having served an appren 
 ticeship to Liberty, in America, on going back to 
 41 France, set up for themselves." Throughout the 
 kingdom, -wherever they "went, they could talk of no 
 thing but the Americans. " Ah, happy people !" said 
 they, " neither oppressing nor oppressed, they min- 
 44 gle together as one great family of brothers. Every 
 44 man is free. Every man labours for himself, and 
 44 wipes with joy the sweat from his brow, because 
 44 tis the earnest of plenteous food and clothing, edu- 
 44 cation, and delights, for his children !" 
 
 THE people every where listened with eagerness to 
 these descriptions of American happiness, and sighed 
 to think of their own wretchedness. The smothered 
 fire soon broke out. The press teemed with papers 
 and pamphlets on the rig fits of Man the true ends 
 of government, and the blessings of Liberty. The 
 eyes of the great nation were presently opened to a 
 sight of her degraded and wretched state. Then sud 
 denly springing up, like a mighty giantess from the 
 hated bed of violation and dishonour, she began a 
 course of vengeance as terrible as it had been long 
 delayed. The unfortunate king and queen were 
 quickly brought low. The heads of her tyrant* 
 every where bounded on the floors of the guillotine; 
 while in every place dogs licked the blood of nobles : 
 and the bodies of great lords were scattered like dung 
 over the face of the earth. 
 
 FEARING that if France were suffered to go on at 
 this rate, there would not in a little time, be a CROWN 
 left in Europe, the crowned heads all confederated to 
 arrest her progress. The whole surrounding world, 
 both by land and water, was in commotion : and tre 
 mendous fleets and armies poured in from every 
 side, to overwhelm her. With unanimity and valour 
 equal to their dangers, the war-loving Gauls rushed 
 
140 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 forth in crowding millions to meet their foes. The 
 mighty armies joined in battle, appearing to the ter 
 rified eye, as if the v/hole human race were rushing 
 together for mutual destruction. But not content 
 with setting the eastern world on fire, the furious 
 combatants (like Milton s warring Spirits tearing up 
 and flinging mountains and islands at each other) flew 
 to America to seize and drag her into their war. 
 
 FLAMING on this errand, Mr. Genet lighted on our 
 continent as an envoy from France. He was receiv 
 ed with joy as a brother republican. The people 
 every where welcomed him as the representative of a 
 beloved nation, to whom, under God, they owed 
 their liberties. Grand dinners were given spark 
 ling bumpers were filled and standing up round the 
 vast convivial board, with joined hands, and cheeks 
 glowing with friendship and the generous juice, they 
 rent the air with " health and fraternity to the sister 
 republics of France and America." 
 
 WASHINGTON joined in the general hospitality to 
 the stranger. He extolled the valour, and congratu 
 lated the victories of his brave countrymen. " Born, 
 sir, said he, in a land of Liberty, for whose sake I 
 have spent the best years of my life in war, I cannot but 
 Jeei a trembling anxiety whenever I see an oppressed 
 people drawing their swords and rearing aloft the 
 sacred banners of freedom " 
 
 ENRAPTURED at finding in America such a cordial 
 spirit towards his country, Mr. Genet instantly set 
 himself to call it into the fullest exertion. And by 
 artfully ringing the changes on British cruelty, and 
 French generosity, to the Americans, he so far suc 
 ceeded as to prevail on some persons in Charleston 
 to commence the equipment of privateers against the 
 British. Dazzled by the lustre of false gratitude to 
 one nation, they lost sight of their horrid injustice to 
 another : and during the profoundest peace between 
 England and America, when the American planters, 
 by their flour, rice, and cotton, were making money 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 141 
 
 almost as fast as if they had mints upon their estates ; 
 and when, on the other hand, the British artizans 
 were driving on their manufactures day and night 
 for the Americans in this sacred season and blissful 
 state of things, certain persons in Charleston began 
 to equip privateers against England. 
 
 GRIEVED that his countrymen should be capable of 
 such an outrage against justice, against humanity, and 
 every thing sacred among men ; and equally grieved 
 to see them so far forget, so far belittle themselves as 
 to become willing cat s paws of one nation, to tear 
 another to pieces, he instantly issued his proclama 
 tion, stating it as the u duty, and therefore the interest 
 of the United States to preserve the strictest neutra 
 lity between the belligerents ; and prohibiting the citi 
 zens of the United States, from all manner of interfe 
 rence in the unhappy contest" 
 
 THIS so enraged Mr. Genet, that he threatened to 
 appeal from the president to the people ! i. e. in plain 
 English, to try to overthrow the government of the 
 United States ! ! 
 
 BUT, thank God, the American people were too 
 wise and virtuous to hear these things without feel 
 ing and expressing a suitable indignation. They ral 
 lied around their beloved president ; and soon gave 
 this most inconsiderate stranger to understand, that 
 he had insulted the sacred person of their father. 
 
 WASHINGTON bore this insult with his usual good 
 temper ! but at the same time took such prudent 
 measures with the French government, that Mr. 
 Genet was quickly recalled. 
 
 HAVING at length attained the acme of all his 
 wishes having lived to see a general and efficient 
 government adopted, and for eight years in success 
 ful operation, ex.ilting his country from the brink of 
 infamy and ruin to the highest ground of prosperity 
 and honour, both at home <md abroad abroad, peace 
 with Britain with Spain .md, some slight heart 
 burnings excepted, peace with France, and without 
 the world : at home, peace with the Indians ou r 
 
142 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 shining ploughshares laying open the best treasures 
 of the earth our ships flying over every sea dis 
 tant nations feeding on our bread, and manufactur 
 ing our staples our revenue rapidly increasing with 
 our credit, religion, learning, arts, and whatever tends 
 to national glory and happiness, he determined to lay 
 down that load of public care which he had borne so 
 long, and which, now in his 66th year, he found was 
 growing too heavy for him. But feeling towards 
 his countrymen the solicitude of a father for his 
 children, over whom he had long watched, but whom 
 he was about to leave to themselves ; and tearing, on 
 the one hand, that they might go astray, and, hoping, 
 on the other, that from his long labours of love, he 
 might be permitted to impart the counsels of his long 
 experience, he drew up for them a farewell address, 
 which the filial piety of the nation has since called 
 44 his Legacy" 
 
 As this little piece, about the length of an ordinary 
 sermon, may do as much good to the people of Ame 
 rica as any sermon ever preached, that Divine one on 
 the mount excepted, I shall offer no apology for lay 
 ing it before them ; especially as I well know that 
 they will all read it with the feelings of children 
 reading the last letter of a once loved father now in 
 his grave. And who knows but it may check for a 
 while the fatal flame of discord which has destroyed 
 ail the once glorious republics of antiquity, and here 
 now at length in the United States has caught upon 
 the last republic that is left on the face of the earth. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 143 
 
 WASHINGTON S LAST WORDS 
 
 To the People of the United States. 
 September, 1796. 
 
 Friends and Fedow citizens ^ 
 
 44 THE period for a new election of a citizen, to 
 administer the executive government of the United 
 States, being not far distant and the time actually 
 arrived when your thoughts must be employed in de 
 signating the person who is to be clothed with that 
 important trust it appears to me proper, especially 
 as it may conduce to a mor distinct expression of 
 the public voice, that I should now apprise you of 
 the resolution I have formed, to decline being consi 
 dered among the number of those out of whom a 
 choice is to be made. 
 
 " I BEG you, at the same time, to do me the justice 
 to be assured, that this resolution has not been taken 
 without a strict regard to all the considerations ap 
 pertaining to the relation which binds a dutiful citi 
 zen to his country ; and that, in withdrawing the 
 tender of service, which silence in my situation might 
 imply, 1 am influenced by no diminution of zeal for 
 your future interest, no deficiency of grateful respect 
 for your past kindness ; but am supported by a full 
 conviction, that the step is compatible with both. 
 
 44 THE acceptance of, and continuance hitherto in^ 
 the office to which your suffrages have twice called 
 me, have been a uniform sacrifice of inclination to 
 the opinion of duty, and to a deference for what ap 
 peared to be your desire. I constantly hoped, that 
 it would have been much earlier in my power, con 
 sistently with motives which I was not at liberty to 
 disregard, to return to that retirement from which I 
 had been reluctantly drawn. The strength of my 
 inclination tc do this, previous to the last election, 
 
144 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 had even led to the preparation of an address to de 
 clare it to you. But mature reflection on the then per 
 plexed and critical posture of our affairs with foreign 
 nations, and the unanimous advice of persons entitled 
 to my confidence, impelled me to abandon the idea. 
 " I REJOICE that the state of your concerns, exter 
 nal as well as internal, no longer renders the pursuit 
 of inclination incompatible with the sentiment of duty 
 or propriety ; and am persuaded, whatever partiality 
 may be retained for my services, that, in the present 
 circumstances of our country, you will not disapprove 
 my determination to retire. 
 
 " THE impressions with which I first undertook 
 the arduous trust, were explained on the proper occa 
 sion. In the discharge of this trust, I will only say, 
 that I have, with good intentions, contributed, towards 
 the organization and administration of the govern 
 ment, the best exertions of which a very fallible judg 
 ment was capable. Not unconscious, in the outset t 
 of the inferiority of my qualifications, experience in 
 my own eyes, perhaps still more in the eyes of others, 
 has strengthened the motives to diffidence of myself: 
 and every day the increasing weight of years admo 
 nishes me more and more that the shade of retire 
 ment is as necessary to me as it will be welcome. 
 Satisfied that if any circumstances have given pecu 
 liar value to my services, they were temporary, I 
 have the consolation to believe, that while choice and 
 prudence invite me to quit the political scene, patri 
 otism does not forbid it. 
 
 * u In looking forward to the moment which is in 
 tended to terminate the career of my public life, my 
 feelings do not permit me to suspend the deep ac 
 knowledgment of that debt of gratitude which I owe 
 to my beloved country, for the many honours it has 
 conferred upon me ; still more for the stedfast con 
 fidence with which it has supported me; and for the 
 opportunities I have thence enjoyed of manifest 
 ing my inviolable attachment, by services faithful 
 and persevering, though in usefulness unequal to 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. U5 
 
 my zeal. If benefits have resulted to our country 
 from these services, let it always be remembered to 
 your praise, and as an instructive example in our 
 annals, that, under circumstances, in which the pas 
 sions, agitated in every direction, were liable to mis 
 lead amidst appearances sometimes dubious vi 
 cissitudes of fortune often discouraging in situ 
 ations in which not unfrequently want of success has 
 countenanced the spirit of criticism the constancy 
 of your support was the essential prop of the efforts, 
 and a guarantee of the plans by which they were 
 effected. Profoundly penetrated with this idea, I 
 shall carry it with me to my grave, as a strong in 
 citement to unceasing vows that Heaven may con 
 tinue to you the choicest tokens of its beneficence j 
 that your union and brotherly affection may be per 
 petual ! that the free constitution, which is the work 
 of your hands, may be sacredly maintained ; that it* 
 administration, in every department, may be stamped 
 with wisdom and virtue ; that, in fine, the happiness 
 of the people of these states, under the auspices of 
 Heaven^ may be made complete, by so careful a pre 
 servation and so prudent a use of liberty, as will ac 
 quire to them the glory of recommending it to the 
 applause, the affection, and the adoption of every 
 nation which is yet a stranger to it. 
 
 " HERE, perhaps, I ought to stop. But a solicitude 
 for your welfare, which cannot end but with my life, 
 and the apprehension of danger, natural to that soli 
 citude, urge me, on an occasion like the present, to of 
 fer to your solemn contemplation, and to recommend 
 to your freque-nt review, some sentiments, which are 
 the result of much reflection, of no inconsiderable 
 observation, and which appear to me all important * 
 to the permanency of your felicity as a people. These 
 will be offered to you with the more freedom, as you 
 can only see in them the disinterested warnings of 
 a parting friend, who can possibly have no personal 
 motive to bias his counsel. Nor can I forget, as 
 an encouragement to it> your indulgent reception 
 
146 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of my sentiments on a former and not dissimilar oc 
 casion. 
 
 " INTERWOVEN as is the love of liberty with every 
 ligament of your hearts, no recommendation of mine 
 is necessary to fortify or confirm the attachment. 
 f u THE unity of government, which constitutes you 
 one people, is also now dear to you. It is justly so; 
 for it is a main pillar in the edifice of your real in 
 dependence; the support of your tranquillity at home, 
 your peace abroad ; of your safety ; of your prospe 
 rity ; of that very liberty which you so highly prize. 
 But as it is easy to foresee, that from different causes, 
 and from different quarters, much pains will be taken, 
 many artifices employed, to weaken in your minds 
 the conviction of this truth ; as this is the point in 
 your political fortress, against which the batteries of 
 internal and external enemies will be most constantly 
 ind actively (though often covertly and insidiously) 
 directed; it is of infinite moment, that you should pro 
 perly estimate the immense value of your national 
 union, to your collective and individual happiness j 
 that you should cherish a cordial, habitual, and im- 
 moveable attachment to it ; accustoming yourselves 
 to think and speak of it as of the palladium of your 
 political safety and prosperity ; watching for its pre 
 servation with jealous anxiety; discountenancing 
 whatever may suggest even a suspicion that it can in 
 any event be abandoned ; and indignantly frowning 
 upon the first dawning of every attempt to alien any 
 portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble 
 the sacred ties which now link together the various 
 parts. 
 
 u FoR this you have every inducement of sympathy 
 *and interest. Citizens, by birth or choice, of a com 
 mon country, that country has a right to concentrate 
 your affections. The name of AMERICAN, which be 
 longs to you in your national capacity, must always 
 exalt the just pride of patriotism, more than any ap 
 pellation derived from local discriminations. With 
 slight shades of difference, you have the same rcli- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. j47 
 
 gion, manners, habits and political principles. You 
 have, in a common cause, fought and triumphed to 
 gether. The independence and liberty you possess 
 are the work of joint councils, and joint efforts -of 
 common dangers, sufferings and successes. 
 
 44 BUT these considerations, however powerfully 
 they address themselves to your sensibility, are 
 greatly outweighed by those which apply more im 
 mediately to your interest. Here every portion of 
 our country finds the most commanding motives for 
 carefully guarding and preserving the union of the 
 whole. 
 
 u l n E NORTH, in an unrestrained intercourse with 
 the SOUTH, protected by the equal laws of a common 
 government, finds in the productions of the latter, 
 great additional resources of maritime and commer 
 cial enterprize, and precious materials of manufac 
 turing industry. The SOUTH, in the same intercourse 
 benefiting by the agency of the NORTH, sees its agri 
 culture grow, and its commerce expand. Turning 
 partly into its own channels the seamen of the NORTH, 
 it finds its particular navigation invigorated : and 
 while it contributes, in different ways, to nourish and 
 increase the general mass of the national navigation, 
 it looks forward to the protection of a maritime 
 strength, to which itself is unequally adapted. The 
 EAST, in a like intercourse with the WEST, already 
 finds, and in the progressive improvement of interior 
 communications, by land and water, will more and 
 more find a valuable vent for the commodities which 
 it brings from abroad, or manufactures at home. 
 The WEST derives from the EAST supplies requisite 
 to its growth and comfort : and what is, perhaps, of 
 still greater consequence, it must of necessity owe 
 the SECURE enjoyment of indispensable OUTLETS 
 for its own productions, to the weight, influence, and 
 the future maritime strength of the Atlantic side of 
 the union, directed by an indissoluble community of 
 interest, as ONE NATION. Any other tenure, by which 
 the WEST can hold this essential advantage, whether 
 
148 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 derived from its own separate strength, or from an 
 apostate and unnttturcl connexion with any foreign 
 power, must be intrinsically precarious. 
 " WHILE then every part of our country thus feels 
 an immediate and particular interest in union, all the 
 parties combined cannot fail to find, in the united 
 mass of means and efforts, greater strength, greater 
 resource, proportionably greater security from exter 
 nal danger, a less frequent interruption of their peace 
 by foreign nations. And, what isoi inestimable value, 
 they must derive from union an exemption from 
 those broils and wars between themselves, which so 
 frequently afflict neighbouring countries, not tied to 
 gether by the same government ; which their own 
 rivalships alone would be sufficient to produce, but 
 which opposite foreign alliances, attachments, and 
 intrigues, would stimulate and embitter. Hence, like 
 wise, they will avoid the necessity of those over 
 grown military establishments, which, under any 
 form of government are inauspicious to liberty ; and 
 which are to be regarded as particularly hostile to- 
 republican liberty. In this sense it is, that your union 
 ought to be considered as a main prop of your liber 
 ty, and that the love of the one ought to endear to 
 you the preservation of the other. 
 
 u THESE considerations speak a persuasive lan 
 guage to every reflecting and virtuous mind ; and ex 
 hibit the continuance of the UNION as a primary ob 
 ject of patriotic desire. Is there a doubt, whether a 
 common government can embrace so large a sphere f 
 Let experience solve it. To listen to mere specula 
 tion in such a case were criminal. We are autho 
 rised to hope that a proper organization of the whole, 
 with the auxiliary agency of governments for the re 
 spective subdivisions, will afford a happy issue to 
 the experiment. T is well worth a fair and full expe 
 riment. With such powerful and obvious motives to 
 union, affecting all parts of our country, while ex 
 perience shall not have demonstrated its impracti 
 cability, there will always be reason to distrust the 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 149 
 
 patriotism of those, who in any quarter may endea 
 vor to weaken its bands. 
 
 * IN contemplating the causes which may disturb 
 our union, it occurs, as a matter of serious concern, 
 that any ground should have been furnished for cha 
 racterizing parties by GEOGRAPHICAL discrimina 
 tions NORTHERN and SOUTHERN ATLANTIC and 
 
 WESTERN ; whence designing men may endeavor to 
 excite a belief, that there is a real difference of lo 
 cal interests and views. One of the expedients of 
 party to acquire influence, within particular districts 
 is to misrepresent the opinions and aims of other dis 
 tricts. You cannot shield yourselves too much against 
 the jealousies and heart-burnings which spring from 
 these misrepresentations. They tend to render alien 
 to each other, those who ought to be bound together 
 by fraternal affection. The inhabitants of our west 
 ern country have lately had a useful lesson on this 
 head. They have seen, in the negociation by the 
 executive, and in the unanimous ratification by the 
 senate, of the treaty with Spain, and in the univer 
 sal satisfaction at that event throughout the United 
 States, a decisive proof how unfounded were the sus 
 picions propagated among them, of a policy in the 
 general government, and in the Atlantic states, un 
 friendly to their interest in regard to the MISSISSIPPI 
 They have been witnesses to the formation of two 
 treaties, that with Great-Britain, and that with Spain 
 which secure to them every thing they could desire 
 in respect to our foreign relations, towards confirm 
 ing their prosperity. Will it not be their wisdom 
 to rely for the preservation of these advantages on 
 the union by which they were procured ? Will they 
 not henceforth be deaf to those advisers, if such there 
 are, who would sever them from their brethren, and 
 connect them with aliens ? 
 
 < 4 To the efficacy and permanency of your union 
 a government for the whole is indispensable. No al 
 liances, however strict, between the parts, can be an 
 adequate substitute. Thevmustinevitablv experience 
 02 
 
150 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the infractions and interruptions which all alliances 
 in all times have experienced. Sensible of this mo 
 mentous truth, you have improved upon your first* 
 essay, by the adoption of a constitution of govern 
 ment belter calculated than your former, for an inti 
 mate union, and for the efficacious management of 
 your common concerns. This government, the off 
 spring of your own choice, uninfluenced and unaw- 
 ed, adopted upon full investigation and mature deli 
 beration, completely free in its principles, in the dis 
 tribution of its powers, uniting security with ener 
 gy, and containing within itself a provision for its 
 own amendment, has a just claim to your confidence 
 and your support. Respect for its authority, coin- 
 Dliance with its laws, acquiescence in its measures, 
 are duties enjoined by the fundamental maxims of 
 true liberty. The basis of our political systems is 
 the right of the people to make and alter their con 
 stitutions of government. But the constitution which 
 at any time exists, till changed by an explicit and 
 authentic act of the whole people, is sacredly obli 
 gatory upon all. The very idea of the power and the 
 ~ight of the people to establish government, pre 
 supposes the duty of every individual to obey the es- 
 , ablished government* 
 
 <l ALL obstructions to the execution of the laws, 
 all combinations and associations, under whatever 
 plausible character, with a real design to direct, con- 
 tro 1 , counteract, or awe the regular deliberation and 
 action of the constituted authorities, are destructive 
 of this fundamental principle, and of fatal tenden^ 
 They serve to organize faction; to give it an artificial, 
 and extraordinary force ; to put in the place of tne 
 delegated will of the nation, the will of a party, often 
 a small, but artful and enterprising minority of the 
 community; and, according to the alternate triumphs 
 of different parties, to make the public administra 
 tion the mirror of the ill-concerted and incongruous 
 projects of faction, rutlur than the organ of consis* 
 tent and wholesome plans, digested by common 
 counsels, and modified by mutual interests. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 151 
 
 44 HOWEVER combinations or associations of the 
 above description may now and then answer popular 
 ends, they are likely, in the course of time and things, 
 to become potent engines, by which cunning, ambi 
 tious, and unprincipled men will be enabled to sub 
 vert the power of the people ; and to usurp to them 
 selves the reins of government ; destroying after 
 wards the very engines which have lifted them to un 
 just dominion. 
 
 4 TOWARDS the preservation of your government, 
 and the permanency of your present happy state, it 
 is requisite, not only that you speedily discounte 
 nance irregular oppositions to its acknowledged au 
 thority, but also that you resist with care the spirit of 
 innovation upon its principles, however specious the 
 pretexts. One method of assault may be to effect, 
 in the forms of the constitution, alterations which 
 will impair the energy of the system ; and thus to 
 undermine what cannot be directly overthrown. In 
 all the changes to which you may be invited, remem 
 ber that time and habit are at least as necessary to 
 fix the true character of government, as of other hu 
 man institutions ; that experience is the surest stand 
 ard, by which to test the real tendency of the exist 
 ing constitution of a country ; that facility in changes, 
 upon the credit of mere hypothesis and opinion, ex 
 poses to perpetual change, from the endless variety 
 of hypothesis and opinion. And remember, especial 
 ly, that for the efficient management of your common 
 interests, in a country so extensive as ours, a go 
 vernment of as much vigor as is consistent with the 
 perfect security of liberty, is indispenable. Liberty 
 itself will find in such a government, with powers 
 properly distributed and adjusted, its surest guardian. 
 It is, indeed, little else than a name, where the gov 
 ernment is too feeble to withstand the enterprises of 
 faction ; to confine each member of the society within 
 the limits prescribed by the laws ; and to maintain all 
 in the secure and tranquil enjoyment of the rights of 
 person and property. 
 
152 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 " I HAVE already intimated to you the danger of 
 the parties in the state, with particular reference to 
 the founding of them on geographical discrimina 
 tions. Let me now take a more comprehensive view, 
 and warn you in the most solemn manner against the 
 baneful effects of the spirit of party, generally. 
 
 44 THIS spirit, unfortunately, is inseparable from 
 our nature, having its root in the strongest passions 
 of the human mind. It exists under different shapes 
 in all governments, more or less stifled, controled, 
 or repressed. Bat in those of the popular form, it is 
 seen in its greatest rankness ; and is truly their worst 
 enemy. 
 
 44 THE alternate dominion of one faction over 
 another, sharpened by the spirit of revenge natural 
 to party dissention, which, in different ages and 
 countries, has perpetrated the most horrid enormi 
 ties, is itself frightful despotism. But this leads at 
 length to a formal and permanent despotism. The 
 disorders and miseries which result, gradually incline; 
 the minds of men to seek security and repose in the 
 absolute power of an individual. And,soonerorlater, 
 the chief of some prevailing faction, more able or 
 more fortunate than his competitors, turns this dis 
 position to the purposes of his own elevation, on the 
 ruins of public liberty. 
 
 44 WITHOUT looking forward to an extremity of 
 this kind (which, nevertheless, ought not to be entire 
 ly out of sight,) the common and continual mischiefs 
 of the spirit of party are sufficient to make it the in 
 terest and duty of a wise people to discourage and 
 restrain it. 
 
 4 IT serves always to distract the. public councils, 
 and enfeeble the public administration. It agitates 
 the community with ill founded jealousies and false 
 alarms ; kindles the animosity of one part against 
 Another ; foments occasionally riot and insurrection; 
 and opens the door to foreign influence and corrup 
 tion, which find a facilitated access to the government 
 itself through the channels of party passions. Thua 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 the policy and will of one country are subjected to 
 the policy and will of another. 
 
 44 THERE is an opinion that parties in free coun 
 tries are useful checks upon the administration ot the 
 government, and serve to keep alive the spirit of 
 liberty. This, within certain limits, is probably true: 
 and, in governments of a monarchical cas .patriotism 
 may look with indulgence, if not with tavor, upon 
 the spirit of party. But in those of the popular cha 
 racter, in governments purely elective, it is a spirit 
 not to be encouraged. From their natural tendency, 
 it is certain there will always be enough of this spir 
 it for every salutary purpose. A nd there being con 
 stant danger of excess, the effort, ought to be, by 
 force of public opinion, to mitigate and assuage it. 
 A fire not to be quenched, it demands a uniform 
 vigilance to prevent its bursting into a flame, lest, 
 instead of warming, it should consume. 
 
 ** IT isimportant, likewise, that the habits of think 
 ing in a free country should inspire caution, in those 
 entrusted with its administration, to confine them 
 selves within their respective constitutional spheres, 
 avoiding, in the exercise of the powers of one depart 
 ment, to encroach upon another. The spirit of en 
 croachment tends to consolidate the powers of all the 
 departments in one, and thus to create, whatever the 
 form of government, a real despotism. A just esti 
 mate of that love of power, and pronenes* to abuse 
 it, which predominates in the human heart, is suffi 
 cient to satisfy us of the truth of this position. The 
 necessity of reciprocal checks, in the exercise of po 
 litical power, by dividing and distributing it into dif 
 ferent depositories, and constituting each the guar 
 dian of public weal against invasions by the others, 
 has been evinced by experiments ancient and modern; 
 some of them in our country, and under our own eyes. 
 To preserve them must be as necessary as to institute 
 them. If, in the opinion of the people, the distribu 
 tion or modification of the constitutional powers be 
 
154 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 in any particular wrong, let it be corrected by an 
 amendment in the- way which the constitution desig 
 nates. But let there be no change by usurpation ; 
 for though this, in one instance, may be the instru 
 ment of good, it is the customary weapon by which 
 free governments are destroyed. -The precedent 
 must alway , greatly overbalance, in permanent evil, 
 any partial or transient benefit which the use can at 
 any time yield. 
 
 4 Or all the dispositions and habits which lead to 
 political prosperity, religion and morality are indis 
 pensable supports. In vain would that man claim 
 the tribute of pati otism, who should labor to sub 
 vert these great pillars of human happiness, these 
 firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. The 
 mere politician, equally with the pious man, ought 
 to respect and to cherish them. A volume could 
 not trace all their connexions with private and public 
 felicity. Let it be simply asked, where is the secu 
 rity for property, for reputation, for life, if the sense 
 of religious obligations DESERT the oaths, which are 
 the instruments of investigation in courts of justice ? 
 And let us with caution indulge the supposition, that 
 morality can be maintained without religion. What 
 ever may be conceded to the influence of refined edu 
 cation on minds of peculiar structure, reason and ex 
 perience both forbid us to expectthat national moral 
 ity can prevail in exclusion of religious principle. 
 
 " 1 is substantially true, that virtue or morality is 
 a necessary spring of popular government. The rule 
 indeed extends with more or less force to every spe 
 cies of free government. Who that is a sincere 
 friend to it can look with indifference upon attempts 
 to shake the foundation of the fabric? 
 
 * 4 PROMOTE, then, as an object of primary import 
 ance, institutions for the general diffusion of know 
 ledge. In proportion as the structure of a govern 
 ment gives force to public opinion, it is essential 
 that public opinion should be enlightened. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 155 
 
 u As a very important source of strength and se 
 curity, cherish public credit. One method of pre 
 serving it, is to use it as sparingly as possible ; avoid 
 ing occasions of expence by cultivating peace ; but 
 remembering also that timely disbursements to pre 
 pare for danger frequently prevent much greater dis-* 
 bursements to repel it ; avoiding likewise the accu 
 mulations of debt, not only by shunning occasions of 
 expence, but by vigorous exertions, in time of peace, 
 to discharge the debts which unavoidable wars may 
 have occasioned j not ungenerously throwing upon 
 posterity the burden which we ourselves ought to 
 bear. The execution of these maxims belongs to 
 your representatives ; but it is necessary that public 
 opinion should co-operate. To facilitate to them the 
 performance of their duty, it is essential that you 
 should practically bear in mind, that towards the pay 
 ment of debts there must be revenue ; that to have 
 revenue there must be taxes ; that no taxes can be 
 devised which are not more or less inconvenient and 
 unpleasant ; that the intrinsic embarrassment inse 
 parable from the selection ot the proper object (which 
 is always a choice of difficulties) ought to be a deci 
 sive motive for a candid construction of the conduct 
 of the government in making it, and for a spirit of 
 acquiescence in the measures for obtaining revenue, 
 which the public exigencies may at any time dic 
 tate. 
 
 f * 4 OBSERVE good faith and justice towards all na 
 tions ; cultivate peace and harmony with all. Reli 
 gion and morality enjoin this conduct : and can it be 
 that good policy does not equally enjoin it ? It will be 
 worthy of a free, enlightened, and at no distant period 
 a great nation, to give to mankind the magnanimous 
 and too novel example of a people always guided by 
 an exalted justice and benevolence. Who can doubt 
 that in the course of time and things, the fruits of 
 such a plan would richly repay any temporary advan- 
 tages which might be lost by a steady adherence to it 
 
156 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Can it be, that Providence has not connected the per 
 manent felicity of a nation with its virtue ? The ex 
 periment, at least, is recommended by every senti 
 ment which ennobles human nature. Alas ! is it ren 
 dered impossible by its vices ? 
 
 " IN the execution of such a plan, nothing is more 
 essential than that permanent, inveterate antipathies 
 against particular nations, and passionate attach 
 ments for others, should be excluded ; and that in 
 place of them just and amicable feelings towards all 
 should be cultivated. The nation which indulges 
 towards another an habitual hatred, or an habitual 
 fondness, is in some degree a slave. It is a slave 
 to its animosity or to its affection, either of which is 
 sufficient to lead it astray from its duty and its in 
 terest. Antipathy in one nation against another dis 
 poses each more readily to offer insult and injury ; to 
 lay hold of slight causes of umbrage ; and to be 
 haughty and intractable, when accidental or trifling 
 occasions of dispute occur. Hence frequent colli 
 sions, obstinate, envenomed, and bloody contests. 
 The nation, prompted by ill-will and resentment, 
 sometimes impels to war the government, contrary 
 to the best calculations of policy. The government 
 sometimes participates in the national propensity ; 
 and adopts, through passion, what reason would re 
 ject. At other times, it makes the animosity of the 
 nation subservient to projects of hostility, instigated 
 by pride, ambition, and other sinister and pernicious * 
 motives. The peace often, sometimes perhaps the 
 liberty, of nations has been the victim. 
 <4 So, likewise, a passionate attachment of one na 
 tion for another produces a variety of evils. Sympa 
 thy for the favorite nation, facilitating the illusion of 
 an imaginary common interest, in cases where no 
 real common interest exists, and infusing into one 
 the enmities of the other,betrays the former into a par 
 ticipation in the quarrels and wars of the latter, with 
 out adequate inducement or justification. It lead* 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 157 
 
 also to concessions to the favorite nation, of privi 
 leges denied to others, which is apt doubly to injure 
 the nation, making the concessions ; by unnecessari 
 ly parting with whatought to have been retained ; and 
 by exciting jealousy, ill-will, and a disposition to re 
 taliate, in the parties from whom equal privileges are 
 withheld. And it gives to ambitious, corrupted, or 
 deluded citizens (who devote themselves to the fa 
 vourite nation) facility to betray or sacrifice the inte 
 rests of their own country, without odium, sometimes 
 even with popularity ; gilding, with the appearances 
 of a virtuous sense of obligation, a commendable de 
 ference for public opinion, or a laudable zeal for pub 
 lic good, the base or foolish compliances of ambition, 
 corruption, or infatuation. 
 
 " As avenues to foreign influence in innumerable 
 ways, such attachments are particularly alarming to 
 the truly enlightened and independent patriot. How 
 many opportunities do they afford to tamper with do 
 mestic factions ; to practise the arts of seduction ; to 
 mislead public opinion ; to influence or awe the pub 
 lic councils ! Such an attachment of a small or weak, 
 towards a great and powerful nation, dooms the for 
 mer to be the satellite of the latter. 
 
 " AGAINST the insidious wiles of foreign influence 
 (I conjure you to believe me, fellow-citizens) the 
 jealousy of a free people ought to be CONSTANTLY 
 awake ; since history and experience prove that fo 
 reign influence is one of the most baneful foes of 
 republican government. But that jealousy, to be 
 useful, must be impartial ; else it becomes the in 
 strument of the very influence to be avoided, instead 
 of a defence against it. Excessive partiality tor cne 
 foreign nation, and excessive dislike of another, 
 cause those whom they actuate, to see danger only on 
 one side j and serve to veil and even second the arts 
 of influence on the other. Real patriots, who may 
 resist the intrigues of the favorite, are liable to be 
 come suspected and odious ; while its tools and dunes 
 P 
 
158 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 usurp the applause and confidence of the people, to 
 surrender their interests. 
 
 u THE great rule of conduct for us, in regard to 
 foreign nations, is, in extending ur commercial re 
 lations, to have with them as little POLITICAL con 
 nexion as possible. So far as we have already form 
 ed engagements, let them be fulfilled with perfect 
 good faith. Here let us stop. 
 
 t6 EUROPE has a set of primary interests, which to 
 us have none, or a very remote relation. Hence she 
 must be engaged in frequent controversies, the cau 
 ses of which are essentially foreign to our concerns. 
 Hence, therefore, it must be unwise in us to impli 
 cate ourselves, by artificial ties, in the ordinary vi 
 cissitudes of her politics, or the ordinary combina 
 tions and collision of her friendships or enmities. 
 
 " OUR detached and distant situation invites and 
 enables us to pursue a different course. If we re 
 main one people, under an efficient government, the 
 period is not far off, when we may defy material in 
 jury from external annoyance ; when we may take 
 such an attitude as will cause the neutrality, we may 
 at any time resolve upon, to be scrupulously respect 
 ed ; when belligerent nations, under the impossibi 
 lity of making acquisitions upon us, will not lightly 
 hazard the giving us provocations ; when we may 
 choose peace or war, as our interest,, guided by 
 justice, shall counsel. 
 
 M WHY forego the advantages of so peculiar. a si 
 tuation ? Why quit our own, to stand upon foreign 
 ground ? Why, by interweaving our destiny with 
 that of any part of Europe, entangle our peace and 
 prosperity in the toils of European ambition, rival- 
 ship, interest, humour, or caprice ? 
 
 " >Tis our true policy to steer clear of permanent 
 alliances, with any portion of the foreign world ; so 
 ar, I mean, as we are now at liberty to do it ; for let 
 me not be understood as capable of patronising in 
 fidelity to existing engagements. I hold the maxim 
 no less applicable to public than to private affairs, 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 159 
 
 that honesty is always the best policy. I repeat it, 
 therefore, let those engagements be observed in their 
 genuine sense. But, in my opinion, it is unnecessa 
 ry, and would be unwise, to extend them. 
 
 " TAKING care always to keep ourselves, by suit 
 able establishments, in a respectable defensive pos 
 ture, we may safely trust to temporary alliances for 
 extraordinary emergencies. 
 
 u HARMONY, and a liberal intercourse with all na 
 tions, are recommended by policy, humanity, and in 
 terest. But even our commercial policy should hold 
 an equal and impartial hand ; neither seeking nor 
 granting exclusive favors or preferences ; consulting 
 the natural course of things ; diffusing and diversify 
 ing by gentle means the streams of commerce, but 
 forcing nothing ; establishing, (with powers so dis 
 posed, in order to give trade a stable course, to de 
 fine the rights of our merchants, and to enable the 
 government to support them,) conventional rules of 
 intercourse, the best that present circumstances and 
 mutual opinion will permit, but temporary, and liable 
 to be from time to time abandoned or varied, as ex 
 perience and circumstances shall dictate ; constantly 
 keeping in view, that it is folly in one nation to look 
 for disinterested favors from another ; that it must 
 pay with a portion of its independence, for whatever 
 it may accept under that character ; that, by such 
 acceptance, it may place itself in the condition of 
 having given equivalents for nominal favors, and yet 
 of being reproached with ingratitude for not giving 
 more. There can be no greater error than to expect 
 or calculate upon real favors from nation to nation. 
 It is an illusion which experience must cure, which 
 a just pride ought to discard. 
 
 u IN offering to you, my countrymen, these coun 
 sels of an old and affectionate friend, I dare not hope 
 they will make the strong and lasting impression I 
 could wish ; that they will control the usual current 
 of the passions, or prevent our nation from running 
 the course which has hitherto marked the destiny of 
 
LIFtf 0$ WASHINGTON. 
 
 nations ! but, if I may even flatter myself, that they 
 may be productive of some partial benefit, some oc 
 casional good ; that they may now and then recur to 
 moderate the fury of party spirit ; to warn against 
 the mischiefs of foreign intrigue j to guard against 
 the impostures of pretended patriotism ; this hope 
 will be a full recompense for the solicitude for your 
 welfare, by which they have been dictated. 
 
 " How far, in the discharge of my official duties, 
 I have been guided by the principles which have 
 been delineated, the public records and other evi 
 dences of my conduct must witness to you and to the 
 world. To myself, the a-surance of my own con 
 science is, that I have, at least, believed myself to 
 be guided by them. 
 
 " IN relation to the still subsisting war in Europe, 
 my proclamation of the 22d of April, 1793, is the 
 index to my plan. Sanctioned by your approving 
 voice, and by that of your representatives in both 
 houses of congress, the spirit of that measure has 
 continually governed me, uninfluenced by any at 
 tempts to deter or divert me from it. 
 
 * l AFTER deliberate examination, with the aid of 
 the best lights I coald obtain, I was well satisfied 
 that our country, under all the circumstances of the 
 case, had a right to take, and was bound in duty and 
 interest to take, a neutral position. Having taken it, I 
 determined, as far as should depend upon me, to main 
 tain it with moderation, perseverance, and firmness. 
 
 " THE considerations which respect the right to 
 hold this conduct, it is not necessary on this occa 
 sion to detail. I will only observe, that, according 
 to my understanding of the matter, that right, so far 
 from being denied by any of the belligerent powers, 
 has been virtually admitted by all. 
 
 " THE duty of holding a neutral conduct may be 
 inferred, without any thing more, from the obliga 
 tion which justice and humanity impose on every na 
 tion, in cases in which it is free to act, to maintain 
 inviolate the relations of peace and amity towards 
 other nations. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 161 
 
 w THE inducements of interest for observing that 
 conduct will best be referred to your own reflections 
 and experience. With me, a predominant motive 
 has been, to endeavor to gain time to our country 
 to settle and mature its yet recent institutions, and 
 to progress without interruption to that degree of 
 strength and consistency, which is necessary to give 
 it, humanly speaking, the command of its own for 
 tunes. 
 
 44 THOUGH, in reviewing the incidents of my ad 
 ministration, I am unconscious of intentional error, 
 I am nevertheless too sensible of my defects, not to 
 think it probable that I may have committed many 
 errors. Whatever they may be, I fervently beseech 
 the Almighty to avert or mitigate the evils to which 
 they may tend. I shall also carry with me the hope 
 that my country will never cease to view them with 
 indulgence ; and that, after forty-five years of my 
 life dedicated to its service, with an upright zeal, the 
 faults of incompetent abilities will be consigned to 
 oblivion, as myself must soon be to the mansions of 
 rest. 
 
 41 RELYING on its kindness in this as in other thing;-, 
 and actuated by that fervent love towards it, which 
 is so natural to a man, who views in it the native soil 
 of himself and his progenitors for several generations, 
 I anticipate with pleasing expectation that retreat, in 
 which I promise myself to realize, without alloy, the 
 sweet enjoyment of partaking, in the midst of my 
 fellow-citizens, the benign influence of good laws un 
 der a free government the ever favorite object of 
 my heart, aid th happy reward, as I trust, of our 
 mutual cause, labours and dangers. 
 
 G. WASHINGTON. 
 
 u United States, \ 
 WthSept. 1796." f 
 
 P 2 
 
162 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 THE appearance of this address in the gazettes of 
 the United States, struck every where a damp on the 
 spirits of the people. To be thus bidden farewell by 
 one to whom, in every time of danger, they had so 
 long and so fondly looked up, as, under God, their 
 surest and safest friend, could not but prove to them 
 a grievous shock. Indeed many could not refrain 
 from tears, especially when they came to that part 
 where he talked of being soon to be " consigned to 
 the mansions of rest." 
 
 DURING the next and last session that he ever 
 met congress, which began on the 7th of December, 
 1796, he labored hard to induce that honorable body 
 instantly to set about the following public works, 
 which, to him, appeared all important to the nation. 
 
 1st. Societies and institutions for the improve 
 ment of agriculture. 
 
 2d. A navy. 
 
 3d. A military Academy. 
 
 4th. A manufactory of arms. 
 
 5th. A national university. 
 
 ON the 4th of March, 1797, he took his last leave 
 of Philadelphia. Having ever been an enlightened 
 and virtuous republican, who deems it the first of 
 Duties to honour the man whom the majority of his 
 country men had chcsen to honour, Washington could 
 tot think of going away, until he had first paid his 
 respects to the man of their choice. It was this that 
 retarded his journey it was this that brought him to 
 the senate chamber. 
 
 ABOUT eleven o clock, while the members of con 
 gress, with numbers of the first characters, were as 
 sembled in the senate hall, anxiously awaiting the 
 arrival of Mr. Adam s, a modest rap was heard at the 
 door. Supposing it to be the president elect) the at 
 tention of all was turned to the entry, when, lo ! in 
 stead of Mr. Adams and his suite, who should appear 
 but the honoured and beloved form of Washington, 
 without attendants, and in his plain travelling dress 
 Industry the joy of filial love sprung up in all hearty 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 163 
 
 glowed in every face ; and bursted forth in involun 
 tary -plaudits from every tongue. Presently Mr. Ad 
 ams entered with his attendants ; but passed on in a 
 great measure unnoticed. The father of his country 
 was in the presence of his children, and perhaps fo 
 the last time; who then could divide his attentions? 
 Riveted on his face was every glistening eye ; while 
 busy memory, flying over the many toils and dangers 
 of his patriot life, gave the spectators up to those de 
 licious thoughts from which no obtruder could break 
 them without a sigh. 
 
 HAVING just waited to congratulate Mr. Adams 
 on his inauguration, and very heartily to pray that 
 a his government might prove a great joy to himself 
 " and a blessing to his county," he hastened to 
 Mount Vernon ; to close in peace the short evening 
 of this laborious lite ; and to wait for a better, even 
 for that " rest which remamethfor the people of God" 
 
 HE carried with him the most fervent prayers of 
 congress, that * Heaven would pour its happiest sun 
 shine on the decline of his days? 9 But this their pray 
 er was not fully answered. On the contrary, with 
 respect to his country, at least, his evening sun went 
 down under a cloud. 
 
 THE French directory, engaged in a furious war 
 with England, turned to America for aid. But Wash 
 ington, wisely dreading the effects of war on his 
 young republic, and believing that she had an unques 
 tioned right to neutrality, most strictly enjoined it 
 on his people by proclamation. This so enraged 
 the directory, that they presently gave orders to their 
 cruizers, to seize American ships on the high seas 
 that equal path which God had spread for the na 
 tions to trade an ! Washington had sent out gener& 
 Charles C. Pinckney to remonstrate against such 
 iniquitous proceedings. The directory would not 
 receive him ! but still continued their spoliations on 
 our wide-spread ind defenceless commerce, ruining 
 numbers of innocent families. Still determined, ac 
 cording to Washington s advice, " so to act as to pitt 
 
164 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 our enemy in the wrong" the American government 
 dispatched two other envoys, Gen. Marshall and El- 
 bridge Gerry, to aid Pinckney. But they fared no 
 better. Though they only supplicated for peace! 
 though they only prayed to be permitted to make ex 
 planations, they were still kept by the directory at a 
 most mortifying distance ; and, after all, were told, 
 that America was not to look for a single smile of 
 reconciliation, nor even a word on that subject, until 
 her envoys should bring large tribute in their hands !! 
 This, as Washington had predicted, instantly evapo 
 rated the last drop of American patience. He had 
 always said, that, " though some very interested or 
 " deluded persons were much too fond of England 
 " and France to value America as they ought ; yet 
 " he was firmly persuaded, that the great mass of 
 " the people were hearty lovers of their country ; and, 
 4< as soon as their eyes were open to the grievous in- 
 " juries done her, would assuredly resent them, like 
 * men, to whom God had given strong feelings, on 
 " purpose to guard their rights." 
 
 His prediction was gloriously verified. For, on 
 hearing the word tribute, the American envoys in 
 stantly took fire ! ! while the brave Gen. Pinckney, 
 (a revolutionary soldier, and neither Englishman nor 
 Frenchman, but a true American,) indignantly ex 
 claimed to the secretary of the directory c< Tribute, 
 sir ! no, sir ! the Americans pay no tribute ! tell the 
 directory, that we will give millions for defence, but 
 not a cent for tribute" 
 
 SOON as this demand of the directory was told in 
 America,t he glorious spirit of 76 was kindled like 
 a flash of lightning, from St. Mary s to Maine. 
 " What /" said the people every where, " shall we, 
 shall Americans! who, rather than pay an unconstitu 
 tional three-penny tax on tea, bravely encountered 
 bloody war, with Britain, now tamely yield to France 
 to beggar us at pleasure P No ! Millions for defence, 
 but not a cent for tribute," was nobly reverberated 
 throughout the continent- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 165 
 
 WAR being now fully expected, the eyes of the 
 nation were instantly turned towards Washington, to 
 head her armies against the French. He readily 
 consented ; but, at the same time, observed that 
 there would be no war. 4< The directory " said he, 
 " though mad enough to do almost any thing, are yet 
 not quite so mad as to venture an attack, zvhen they 
 shall find that the spirit of the nation is up" The 
 event showed the usual correctness of his judgment 
 for, on discovering that America, though very willing 
 to be the sister, had no notion of being the slave of 
 France on learning that Washington was roused, 
 and the strength of the nation rallying around him 
 and also that the American tars, led on by the gal 
 lant Truxton, had spread the fiery stars of LIBERTY, 
 blasting on every sea the sickly jleurs-de-luce, of 
 gallic piracy, the directory very sagaciously signified 
 a disposition to accommodate. Mr. Adams immedi 
 ately dispatched three new envoys to the French re 
 public. By the time they got there, the French re 
 public was no more ! Bonaparte, believing that 
 volatile people incapable of governing for themselves, 
 had kindly undertaken to govern for them ; and ha 
 ving, en passant, kicked the directory from their 
 seats, he seized their ill-managed power, and very 
 leisurely mounted the throne of the Bourbons. 
 Dazzled with the splendor of his talents and victories, 
 the great nation quietly yielded to his reign ; and 
 with a happy versatility peculiar to themselves, ex 
 changed the tumultuous and bloody c< Ca ira" for 
 the milder notes of " vive PempereurS* With this 
 wonderful man, the American envoys found no diffi 
 culty to negotiate ; for having no wish to re-unite 
 America to his hated enemy, Britain, he received 
 them very graciously ; and presently settled all their 
 claims in a satisfactory manner. Thus lovingly did 
 the breath of God blow away once more the black 
 cloud of war, and restore the bright day of peace to 
 our favoured land ! But Washington never lived to 
 
166 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 rejoice with his countrymen in the sunshine ot that 
 peace ; for before it reached our shores, he had 
 closed his eyes for ever on all mortal things. 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 THE DEATH OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 And when disease obstructs the labouring breath, 
 When the heart sickens and each pulse is death, 
 Even then Religion shall sustain the just ; 
 Grace their last moments ; nor desert their dust. 
 
 IF the prayers of millions could have prevailed, 
 Washington would have been immortal on earth. 
 And if fulness of peace, riches, and honours could 
 have rendered that immortality happy, Washington 
 had been blessed indeed. But this world is not the 
 place of true happiness. Though numberless are the 
 satisfactions, which a prudence and virtue like Wash 
 ington s may enjoy in this world, yet they fall short, 
 infinite degrees, of that pure, unembittered felicity, 
 which the Almighty parent has prepared in heaven 
 for the spirits of the just. 
 
 To prepare for this immensity of bliss, is the real 
 errand on which God sent us into the world* Our 
 preparation consists in acquiring those great virtues, 
 purity and love, which alone can make us -worthy 
 companions of angels, and fit partakers of their ex 
 alted delights. Washington had wisely spent his life 
 in acquiring the IMMORTAL VIRTUES. He had 
 fought the good fight" against his own unreasonable 
 affections. He had glorified God, by exemplifying tjae 
 charms of virtue to men. He had borne the heat and 
 burden of the day his great day of duty : and the 
 evening of old age being come, the servant of God 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 167 
 
 must now go to receive his wages. Happy Wash 
 ington ! If crowns and kingdoms could have purcha 
 sed such peace as thine, such hopes big with immor 
 tality, with what begging earnestness would crowns 
 and kingdoms have been offered by the mighty con 
 querors of the earth, in their dying moments of ter 
 ror and despair ! 
 
 ON the 14th of December, 1799, (when he want 
 ed but 9 weeks and 2 days of being 68 years old,) he 
 rode out to his mill, three miles distant. The day 
 was raw and rainy. The following night he was at 
 tacked with a violent pain and inflammation of the 
 throat. The lancet of one of his domestics was em 
 ployed, but with no advantage. Early in the morn 
 ing, Dr. Craik, the friend and physician of his youth 
 and age, was sent for. Alarmed at the least appear 
 ance of danger threatening a life so dear to him, Dr. 
 Craik advised to call in, immediately, the consult 
 ing assistance of his friends, the ingenious and learned 
 Dr. Dick, of Alexandria, and Dr. Brown, of Port 
 Tobacco. They came on the wings of speed. They 
 felt the awfulness of their situation. The greatest 
 of human beings was lying low. A life, of all others 
 the most revered, the most beloved, was at stake. 
 And if hum?*i skill could have saved if the sword 
 of genius, and the buckler of experience could have 
 urned: he stroke of death, Washington had still 
 lived. But his hour was come. 
 
 IT appears, that from the commencement of the 
 attack, he was favored with a presentiment, that he 
 was now laid down to rise no more. He took, how 
 ever, the medicines that were offered him : but it was 
 principally from a sense of duty. 
 
 IT has been said that a man s death is generally a 
 copy of his life. It was Washington s case exactly. 
 In his last illness he behaved with the firmness of a 
 soldier, and the resignation of a Christian. 
 
 THE inflammation in his throat was attended with 
 great pain, which he bore with the fortitude that be 
 came him He was, once or twice heard to say 
 
168 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 that, had it pleased God, he should have been glad to 
 die a little easier ; but that he doubted not that it "was 
 for his good. 
 
 EVERY hour now spread a sadder gloom over the 
 scene. Despair sat on the faces of the physicians ; 
 for they saw that their art had failed ! The strength 
 of the mighty was departing from him ; and death, 
 with his sad harbingers, chills arid paleness, was 
 coming on apace. 
 
 MOUNT VERNON, which had long shone the queen 
 of elegant joys, was now about to suffer a sad eclipse i 
 an eclipse, which would soon be mournfully visible, 
 not only through the United States, but throughout 
 the whole world. 
 
 SONS and daughters of Columbia, gather your 
 selves together around the bed of your expiring fa 
 ther around the last bed of him to whom under God 
 you and your children owe many of the best bles 
 sings of this life. When Joseph the prime minister 
 of Egypt heard that his shepherd father was sick, he 
 hastened up, to see him ; and fell on his face, and 
 kissed him, and wept a long while. But Joseph had 
 never received such services from Jacob as you have 
 received from Washington. But we call you not to 
 weep for Washington. We ask you not to view those 
 eyes, now sunk hollow, which formerly darted their 
 lightning flashes against your enemies nor to feel 
 that heart, now faintly laboring, which so often throb 
 bed with more than mortal joys when he saw his 
 young countrymen charging like lions, upon the foes 
 of liberty. No ! we call you not to weep, but to re 
 joice. Washington, who so often conquered him- 
 .self, is now about to conquer the last enemy. 
 
 SILENT and sad his physicians sat by his bedside, 
 looking on him as he lay panting for breath. They 
 thought on the past, and the tear swelled in their 
 eyes. He marked it, and, stretching out his hand 
 to them, and shaking his head, said, " O no I dorft! 
 don t . " then with a delightful smile added, " / am 
 dying* gentltmen I but, thank God^ I am not afraid 
 to die." 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 169 
 
 FEELING that the hour of his departure out of 
 this world was at hand, he desired that every body 
 would quit the room. They all went out ; and, ac 
 cording to his wish, left him with his God. 
 
 THERE, by himself, like Moses alone on the top 
 of Pisgah, ke seeks the face of God. There, by him- 
 self, standing as on the awful boundary that divides 
 time from eternity, that separates this world from 
 the next, he cannot quit the long frequented haunts 
 of the one, nor launch away into the untried regions 
 of the other, until (in humble imitation of the world s 
 great Redeemer) he has poured forth, into the bosom 
 of his God, those strong sensations which the solem 
 nity of his situation naturally suggested. 
 
 WITH what angelic fervor did he adore that Al 
 mighty Love, which, though inhabiting the heaven of 
 heavens, deigned to wake his sleeping dust framed 
 him so fearfully in the womb nursed him on a ten 
 der mother s breast watched his helpless infancy 
 guarded his heedless youth preserved him from the 
 dominion of his passions inspired him with the love 
 of virtue led him safely up to man and, from such 
 low beginnings, advanced him to such unparalleled 
 usefulness and glory among men ! These, and ten 
 thousand other precious gifts heaped on him, un 
 asked many of them long before he had the know 
 ledge to ask overwhelmed his soul with gratitude 
 unutterable ; exalted to infinite heights his ideas of 
 eternal love; and bade him without fear resign his 
 departing spirit into the arms of his Redeemer God, 
 whose mercies are over all his works. 
 
 HE is now about to leave the great family of man T 
 in which he has so long sojourned ! The yearnings of 
 his soul are over his brethren ! How fervently does 
 he adore that goodness, which enabled him to be so 
 serviceable to them ! that grace,, which preserved 
 him from injuring them bj^ violence or fraud ! How 
 fervently does he pray, that the unsuffering kingdom 
 
170 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 of God may come, and that the earth may be filled 
 with the richest fruits of righteousness and peace! 
 
 HE is now about to leave his country / that dear 
 spot which gave him birth that dear spot for which 
 he has so long watched and prayed, so long toiled 
 and fought ; and whose beloved children he has so 
 often sought to gather, " even as a hen gathereth her 
 chickens under her wings." He sees them now spread 
 abroad like flocks in goodly pastures ; like favoured 
 Israel in the land of promise. He remembers how 
 God, by a mighty hand, and by an outstretched arm, 
 brought their fathers into this good land, a land flow 
 ing with milk and honey ; and blessed them with the 
 olessings of heaven above, and the earth beneath ; 
 with the blessings of LIBERTY and of PEACE, of RELI 
 GION and of LAWS, above all other people. He sees 
 that, through the rich mercies of God, they have 
 now the precious opportunity to continue their coun 
 try the GLORY of the earth, and a refuge for the poor, 
 and for the persecuted of all lands ! The transporting 
 sight of such a cloud of blessings, impending close 
 over the heads of his countrymen, together with the 
 distressing uncertainty whether they will put forth 
 their hands and enjoy them, shakes the parent soul 
 of Washington with feelings too strong" for his dying 1 
 c rame ! The last tear that he is ever to shed, now 
 steals into his eye the last groan that he is ever to 
 neave, is about to issue from his faintly labouring 
 heart ! 
 
 FEELING that the silver cord of life is loosing, and 
 that his spirit is ready to quit her old companion, the 
 body, he extends himself on his bed closes his eyes 
 for the last time with his own hands folds his arms 
 decently on his breast, then breathing out " Father of 
 nercies^ take me to thyself" he fell asleep. 
 
 SWIFT on angels wings the brightening saint as 
 cended ; while voices more than human were warb 
 ling through the happy regions, and hymning the 
 great procession towards the gates of heaven. His 
 glorious coming was seen afar off; and myriads of 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 171 
 
 mighty angels hastened forth, with golden harps, to 
 welcome the honoured stranger. High in front of 
 the shouting hosts, were seen the beauteous forms 
 of FRANKLIN, WARREN, MERCER, SCAMMEL, and 
 of HIM who fell at Quebec, with all the virtuous 
 PATRIOTS, who, on the side of Columbia, toiled or 
 bled for liberty and truth. But oh ! how changed 
 from what they were, when, in their days of flesh, 
 bathed in sweat and blood, they fell at the parent feet 
 of their weeping country! Not the homeliest infant 
 suddenly springing into a soul-enchanting Hebe not 
 dreary winter suddenly brightening into spring, with 
 all her bloom and fragrance, ravishing the senses, 
 could equal such a glorious change. Oh ! where are 
 now their wrinkles and grey hairs? Where their 
 ghastly wounds and clotted blood ? Their forms are 
 of the stature of angels their robes like morning 
 clouds streaked with gold the stars of heaven, like 
 crowns, glitter on their heads immortal yoath, 
 celestial rosy red, sits blooming on their cheeks, while 
 infinite benignity and love beam from their eyes. 
 Such were the forms of thy sons, O Columbia ! such 
 the brother band of thy martyred saints, that now 
 poured forth from heaven s wide opening gates, to 
 meet thy Washington ; to meet their beloved chief, 
 who, in the days of his mortality, had led their em 
 battled squadrons to the war. At sight of him, even 
 these blessed spirits seem to feel new raptures, and to 
 look more dazzlingly bi ight. In joyous throngs they 
 pour around him they devour him with their eyes 
 of love they embrace him in transports of tender 
 ness unutterable ; while from their roseate cheeks, 
 tears of joy, such as angels weep, roll down. 
 
 ALL that followed was too much for the over-daz 
 zled eye of Imagination. She was seen to return, with 
 the quick panting bosom and looks entranced of a 
 fond mother, near swooning at sudden sight of a dear 
 loved son, deemed lost, but now found, and raised to 
 kingly honours / She was heard passionately to ex 
 claim, with palms and eyes lifted to heaven, " 0, who 
 
172 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 can count the stars of Jacob, or number the fourth part 
 of the blessings of Israel! Let me die the death oj 
 Washington I and may my latter end be like his /" 
 
 LET us now return to all that remained of Wash 
 ington on earth. He had expressly ordered in his 
 will, that he should be buried in a private manner, and 
 -without any parade. But this was impossible; for 
 who could stay at home when it was said, " To-day 
 general Washington is to be buried^ On the morn 
 ing of the 18th, which was fixed on for his funeral, 
 the people poured in by thousands to pay him the last 
 respect, and, as they said, to take their last look. And, 
 while they looked on him, nature stirred that at their 
 hearts, which quickly brought the best blood into 
 their cheeks, and rolled down the tears from their 
 eyes. About two o clock they bore him to his long 
 home, and buried him in his own family vault, near 
 the banks of the great Potomac. And to this day, 
 often as the ships of war pass that way, they waken 
 up the thunder of their loudest guns, pointed to the 
 spot, as if to tell the sleeping hero, that he is not for 
 gotten in his narrow dwelling. 
 
 THE news of his death soon reached Philadelphia, 
 where Congress was then in session. A question of 
 importance being on the carpet that day, the house, 
 as usual, was much interested. But, soon as it was 
 announced "GENERAL WASHINGTON is DEAD" 
 an instant stop was put to all business the tongue of 
 the orator was struck dumb and a midnight silence 
 ensued, save when it was interrupted by deepest sighs 
 of the members, as, with drooping foreheads rested 
 on their palms, they sat, each absorbed in mournful 
 cogitation. Presently, as utterly unfit for business, 
 both houses adjourned; and the members retired 
 slow and sad to their lodgings, like men who had 
 suddenly heard of the death of a father. 
 
 FOR several days hardly any thing was done in 
 Congress ; hardly any thing thought of but to talk of 
 and to praise the departed Washington. In this patrio 
 tic work all parties joined with equal alacrity ad ear- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 173 
 
 nestness. In this all were federalists, all were repub 
 licans. Elegant addresses were exchanged between 
 the two houses of Congress and the President, and 
 all of them replete with genius and gratitude. 
 
 THEN, by unanimous consent, Congress came to 
 the following resolutions : 
 
 1st. THAT a grand marble monument should 
 erected at the city of Washington, under which 
 with permission of his lady, the body of the ge 
 neral should be deposited. 
 
 2d. THAT there should be a funeral procession 
 
 from congress hall to the German Lutheran 
 
 church, to hear an oration delivered by one of 
 
 the members of congress. 
 
 3d. THAT the members of congress should wear 
 
 full mourning during the session. 
 4th. THAT it should be recommended to the ptv- 
 ple of the U"nited States to wear crape on 
 left arm, as mourning, for thirty clays. 
 BUT, thank God, the people of the United States 
 needed not the hint contained in the last resolution. 
 Though they could not all very elegantly speak, yet 
 their actions showed that they all very deeply felt 
 what they owed to Washington, For, in every city, 
 village, and hamlet, the people were so struck on 
 hearing of his death, that long before they heard o 
 the resolution of congress, they ran together to ease 
 their troubled minds in talking and hearing talk. o. 
 Washington, and to devise some public mode of tes 
 tifying their sorrow for his death. Every where 
 throughout the continent, churches and court houses 
 were hung in black, mourning was put on, proces 
 sions were made, and sermons preached, while the 
 crowded houses listened with pleasure to the praises 
 of Washington, or sighed and wept when they heard 
 of his toils and battles for his country. 
 Q2 
 
174 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 >.^yt ;-.</,:.",..; -Xn^A^-V fi::^; : llnj[ S|:^?|S Si 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 Let the poor witling argue all he can, 
 It is Religion still that makes the man. 
 
 WHEN the children of the years to come, hear 
 ing his great name re-echoed from every lip, shall 
 say to their fathers, " What was it that raised Wash 
 ington to such height of glory ?" let thc-m be told thnt 
 
 it Was HIS GREAT TALENTS, CONSTANTLY GUIDED 
 
 AND GUARDED BY RELIGION. For how shall man, 
 frail man,, prone to inglorious ease and pleasure, ever 
 ascend the arduous steps of virtue, unless animated 
 by the mighty hopes of religion ? Or what shall stop 
 him in his swift descent to infamy and vice, if un- 
 awed by that dread power, which proclaims to the 
 guilty that their secret crimes are seen, and shall not 
 go unpunished ? Hence, the wise, in all ages, have 
 pronounced, that u there never was a truly great 
 man without religion" 
 
 THERE have, indeed, been courageous generals^ 
 and cunning statesmen, without religion, but mere 
 courage or cunning, however transcendent, never yet 
 made a great man. 
 
 " ADMIT that this can conquer, that can cheat! 
 44 Tis phrase absurd, to call a villain great ! 
 4< Who wickedly is wise, or madly brave, 
 " Is but the more a fool, the more a knave." 
 
 No ! to be truly great, a man must have not only 
 great talents, but those talents must be constantly ex 
 erted on great, i. e. good actions and perseveringly 
 too for if he should turn aside to vice farewell to 
 his heroism. Hence, when Epaminondas was asked 
 which was the greatest man, himself or Pelopidas? 
 he replied, <c wait till we are aead :" meaning that 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON 175 
 
 the all of heroism depends on perseverance in great 
 and good actions. But sensual and groveling as 
 man is, what can incline and elevate him to those 
 things like religion, that divine power, to whom alone 
 it belongs to present those vast and eternal goods and 
 ills which best alarm our fears, enrapture our hopes, 
 inflame the worthiest loves, rouse the truest avarice, 
 and in short, touch every spring and passion of our 
 souls in favour of virtue and noble actions. 
 
 DID SHAME restrain Alcibiades from a base action 
 in the presence of Socrates ? " Behold" says Religion, 
 " a greater than Socrates is here /" 
 
 DID LOVE embolden Jacob to brave fourteen years 
 of slavery for an earthly beauty? Religion springs that 
 eternal love, for whose sake good men can even glo 
 ry in laborious duties. 
 
 DID the ambition of a civic crown animate Scipio 
 to heroic deeds ? Religion holds a crown, at the sight 
 of which the laurels of a Caesar droop to weeds. 
 
 DID avarice urge Cortez through a thousand toils 
 and dangers for wealth ? Religion points to those 
 treasures in heaven, compared to which all diamond 
 beds and mines of massy gold are but trash. 
 
 DID good Aurelius study the happiness of his sub 
 jects for this world s glory ? Religion displays that 
 world of glory, where those who have laboured to 
 make others happy, shall " shine like stars for ever 
 and for ever" 
 
 DOES the FEAR of death deter man from horrid 
 crimes ? Religion adds infinite horrors to that fear 
 it warns them of a death both of soul and body in hell. 
 
 IN short, what motives under heaven can restrain 
 men from vices and crimes, and urge them on, full 
 stretch, after individual and national happiness, like 
 those of religion? For lack of these motives, alas! 
 how many who once dazzled the world with the glare 
 of their exploits, are now eclipsed and set to rise no 
 more ! 
 
 THERE was Arnold, who, in courage and military 
 talents, glittered in the same firmament with Wash- 
 
176 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 ington, and, for a while, his face shone like the star 
 of the morning ; but alas ! for lack of Washington s 
 religion, he soon fell, like Lucifer, from a heaven of 
 glory, into an abyss of never ending infamy. 
 
 AND there was general Charles Lee, too, confessed 
 ly a great wit, a great scholar, a great soldier, but, af 
 ter all, not a great man. For, through lack of that 
 magnanimous benevolence which religion inspires, he 
 fell into the vile state of envy : and, on the plains of 
 Monmouth, rather than fight to immortalize Wash 
 ington, he chose to retreat and disgrace himself. 
 
 THERE was the gallant general Hamilton also a 
 gigantic genius a statesman fit to rule the mightiest 
 monarchy a soldier "fit to standby Washington and 
 give command" But alas! for lack of religion, see 
 how all was lost ! preferring the praise of man to that 
 praise " which cometh from God" and pursuing the 
 phantom honour up to the pistol s mouth, he is cut 
 off at once from life and greatness, and leaves his 
 family and country to mourn his hapless fate. 
 
 AND there was the fascinating colonel Burr. A man 
 born to be great brave as Caesar, polished as Ches 
 terfield, eloquent as Cicero. Lifted by the strong 
 arm of his country, he rose fast, and bade fair soon 
 to fill the place where Washington had sat. But alas ! 
 lacking religion, he could not wait the spontaneous 
 fall of the rich honors ripening over his head, but in 
 evil hour stretched forth his hand to the forbidden 
 fruit, and by that fatal act was cast out from the Eden 
 of our republic, and amerced of greatness for ever. 
 
 BUT why should I summon the Arnolds and Lees, 
 the Hamiltons and Burrs of the earth, to give sad evi 
 dence, that no valour, no genius alone can make men 
 great ? Do we not daily meet with instances, of youth 
 amiable and promising as their fond parents wishes, 
 who yet, merely for lack of religion, soon make ship 
 wreck of every precious hope, sacrificing their gold 
 to gamblers, their heal th to harlots, and their glory 
 to grog making conscience their curse, this life a 
 purgatory, and the next a hell! In fact, a voung man, 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 177 
 
 though of the finest talents and education, without re 
 ligion, is but like a gorgeous ship without ballast. 
 Highly painted, and with flowing canvass, she laun 
 ches out on the deep; and, during a smooth sea and 
 gentle breeze, she moves along stately as the pride of 
 ocean; but, as soon as the stormy winds descend, 
 nnd the blackening billows begin to roll, suddenly she 
 is overset, and disappears for ever. But who is this 
 coming thus gloriously along, with masts towering 
 to heaven, and his sails white, looming like the moun 
 tain of suows? Who is it but Columbia s first and 
 greatest son /" whose talents, like the sails of a migh 
 ty ship, spread far and wide, catching the gales of 
 heaven, while his capacious soul, stored with the rich 
 ballast of religion, remains firm and unshaken as the 
 ponderous rock. The worm zephyrs of prosperity 
 breathe meltingly upon him the rough storms of ad 
 versity descend the big billows of affliction dash : 
 but nothing can move him. His eye is fixed on God ! 
 the present joys of an approving conscience, and the 
 hope of that glory which fadeth not away these 
 comfort and support him. 
 
 u There exists" says Washington, u in the economy 
 of nature, an inseparable connexion between duty and 
 advantage" The whole life of this great man bears 
 glorious witness to the truth of this his favorite apho 
 rism. At the giddy age of fourteen, when the spi 
 rits of youth are all on tiptoe for freedom and ad 
 ventures, he felt a strong desire to go to sea : but, 
 very opposite to his wishes, his mother declared that 
 she could not bear to part with him. His trial must 
 have been very severe ; for I have been told that a 
 midshipman s commission was actually in his pocket 
 his trunk of clothes on board the ship his honour 
 in some sort pledged his young companions impor 
 tunate with him to go and his whole soul panting 
 for the promised pleasures of the voyage. But re 
 ligion whispered "honour thy mother, and grieve 
 not the spirit of her who bore thee" 
 
178 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 INSTANTLY the glorious boy sacrificed inclination 
 to duty dropt all thought of the voyage and gave 
 tears of joy to his widowed mother, in clasping to 
 her bosom a dear child who could deny himself his 
 fondest wishes to make her happy. 
 
 Tis said, that when he saw the last boat going on 
 board, with several of his youthful friends in it 
 when he saw the flash, and heard the report of the 
 signal gun for sailing, and the ship in all her pride 
 of canvass rounding off for sea, he could not bear it ; 
 but turned away ; and, half choaked with grief, went 
 into the room where his mother sat. " George, my 
 dear . " said she " have you already repented that you 
 made your mother so happy just now f Upon this, 
 falling on her bosom, with his arms around her neck, 
 and a gush of tears, he said : u my dear mother, I 
 must not deny that I am sorry. But, indeed, I jeel 
 that I should be much more sorry, -were Ion board 
 the ship, and knew that you -were unhappy" 
 
 * c WELL," replied she, embracing him tenderly, 
 " God, I hope, will reward my dear boy for this, some 
 day or other." Now see here, young reader ; and 
 learn that HE who prescribes our duty, is able to re 
 ward it. Had George left his fond mother to a 
 broken heart, and gone off to sea, tis next to certain 
 that he would never have taken that active part in 
 the French and Indian war, which, by securing him 
 the hearts of his countrymen, paved the way for all 
 his future greatness. 
 
 Now for another instance of the wonderful effect 
 of religion on Washington s fortune. Shortly after re 
 turning from the war of Cuba, Lawrence (his half 
 brother) was taken with the consumption, which 
 made him so excessively fretful, that his own bro 
 ther Augustin would seldom come near him* But 
 George, whose heart was early under the softening 
 and sweetening influences of religion, felt such a ten 
 derness for his poor sick brother, that he not only 
 submitted to his peevishness, but seemed, from what 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 179 
 
 I have been told, never so happy as when he was 
 with him. He accompanied him to the island of 
 Bermuda, in quest of health and, after their return 
 to Mount Vernon, as often as his duty tojord Fair 
 fax permitted, he would come down from the back 
 woods to see him. And, while with him, he was al 
 ways contriving or doing something to cheer and 
 comfort his brother. Sometimes with his gun he 
 would go out in quest of partridges and snipes, and 
 other fine-flavored game, to tempt his brother s sick 
 ly appetite, and gain him strength. At other times 
 he would sit for hours and read to him some enter 
 taining book : and, when his cough came on, he 
 would support his drooping head, and wipe the cold 
 dew from his forehead, or the phlegm from his lips, 
 and give him his medicine, or smooth his pillow ; 
 and all with such alacrity and artless tenderness as 
 proved the sweetest cordial to his brother s spirits. 
 For he w r as often heard to say to the Fairfax family, 
 into which he married, that " he should think nothing 
 of his sickness, if he could but always have his brother 
 Georgewith him." Well, what was the consequence ? 
 Why, when Lawrence was dying, he left almost 
 the whole of his large estate to George, which served 
 as another noble step to his future greatness. 
 
 For further proof of "the inseparable connexion be 
 tween duty and advantage" let us look at Washing 
 ton s conduct through the French and Indian war. 
 To a man of his uncommon military mind, and skill 
 in the arts of Indian warfare, the pride and precipi 
 tance of general Braddock must have been excessive 
 ly disgusting and disheartening. But we hear no 
 thing of his threatening either to leave or supplant 
 Braddock. On the contrary, he nobly brooked his 
 rude manners; gallantly obeyed his rash orders - T 
 and, as far as in him lay, endeavoured to correct 
 their fatal tendencies. 
 
 AND, after the death of Braddock, and the deser 
 tion ofDunbar, that weak old man, governor Dinwid- 
 die, added infinitely to his hardships and hazards, by 
 
180 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 appointing him to the defence of the frontiers, and 
 yet withholding the necessary forces and supplies. 
 But though by that means the western country was 
 continually overrun by the enemy, and cruelly de 
 luged in blood though much wearied in body by 
 marchings and watchings, and worse tortured in soul, 
 by the murders and desolations of the inhabitants, 
 he shrinks not from duty still seeking the smiles of 
 conscience as his greatest good; and as the sorest 
 evil, dreading its frowns, he bravely maintained his 
 ground, and, after three years of unequalled dan 
 gers and difficulties, succeeded. 
 
 WELL, what was the consequence? why it drew 
 upon him, from his admiring countrymen, such an 
 unbounded confidence in his principles and patriot 
 ism, as secured him the command of the American 
 armies, in the revolutionary war! 
 
 AND there again the connexion between "duty and 
 advantage" was as gloriously displayed. For though 
 congress was, in legal and political knowledge, an 
 enlightened body, and for patriotism equal to the se 
 nate of Republican Rome, yet certainly in military 
 matters they were no more to be compared to him, 
 than those others were to Hannibal. But still, though 
 they were constantly thwarting his counsels, and, in 
 place of good soldiers, sending him raw militia, thus 
 compelling inactivity, or insuring defeat dragging 
 out the war dispiriting the nation -and disgracing 
 him, yet we hear from him no gusts of passion no 
 dark intrigues to supplant congress and with the 
 help of an idolizing nation and army, to snatch the 
 power from their hands, and make himself king. On 
 the contrary, he continues to treat congress as a vir 
 tuous son his respected parents. He points out wiser 
 measures, but in defect of their adoption, makes the 
 best use of tbose they give him, and at length, through 
 the mighty blessing of God, established the indepen 
 dence of his country ; and then went back to his plough. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 181 
 
 WELL, what was the consequence? Why, these 
 noble acts so completely filled up the measure of his 
 country s love for him, as to give him that first 
 of all felicities, the felicity to be regarded as the 
 guardian angel of his country, and to be able, by the 
 magic of his name, to scatter every cloud of danger 
 that gathered over her head. 
 
 FOR example, at the close of the war, when the 
 army, about to be disbanded without their wages, 
 were wrought up to such a pitch of discontent and 
 rage, as seriously to threaten civil war, see the won 
 derful influence which their love for him gave him 
 over themselves ! In the height of their passion, and 
 that a very natural passion too, he merely makes a 
 short speech to them, and the storm is laid ! the tu 
 mult subsides ! and the soldiers, after all their hard 
 ships, consent to ground their arms, and return 
 home without a penny in the,ir pockets ! ! ! 
 
 ALSO, in that very alarming dispute between Ver 
 mont and Pennsylvania, when the furious parties, in 
 spite of all the efforts of congress and their gover 
 nors, had actually shouldered their guns, and were 
 dragging on their cannon fora bloody fight Wash 
 ington only gave them a few lines of his advice, and 
 they instantly faced about for their homes ; and lay 
 ing by their weapons, seized their ploughs again, 
 like dutiful children, on whose kindling passions a 
 beloved father had shaken his hoary locks ! ! 
 
 AND, in the western counties of Pennsylvania, 
 where certain blind patriots affecting to strain at the 
 gnat of a small excise, but ready enough to swallow 
 the infernal camel of rebellion, had kindled the 
 flames of civil war, and thrown the whole nation in 
 to a tremor, Washington had just to send around a 
 circular to the people of the union, stating the infi 
 nite importance of maintaining the SACRED REIGN 
 OF THE LAWS, and instantly twenty thousand well 
 armed volunteers marched among the insurgents 
 and, without shedding a drop of blood, extinguished 
 the insurrection. 
 
 K 
 
182 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 IN short, it were endless to enumerate the many 
 dire insurrections and blood/ wars which were 
 averted from this country by Washington, and all 
 through the divine force of early Religion ! for it was 
 this that enabled him inflexibly to do his duty, by 
 imitating God in his glorious works of wisdom and 
 benevolence ; and all the rest followed as naturally 
 as light follows the sun. 
 
 WE have seen, at page 17 of this little work, with 
 what pleasure the youthful Washington hung upon 
 his father s lip, while descanting on the adorable 
 wisdom and benevolent designs of God in all parts 
 of this beautiful and harmonious creation. By such 
 essons in the book of nature, this virtuous youth 
 was easily prepared for the far higher and surer lec 
 tures of revelation, I mean that blessed gospel which 
 contains the MORAL philosophy of heaven. There 
 he learnt, that u God is love ;" and that all he de 
 sires, with respect to men, is to glorify himself in 
 their happiness ; and since VIRTUE is indispensable 
 to that happiness, the infinite and eternal weight of 
 God s attributes must be in favour of virtue, and 
 against vice j and consequently that God will sooner 
 or later gloriously reward the one, and punish the 
 other. This was the creed of Washington. And 
 looking on it as the only basis of human virtue and 
 happiness, he very cordially embraced it himself, 
 and wished for nothing so much as to see all others 
 embrace it. 
 
 I HAVE often been informed by colonel B. Tem 
 ple, (of King William County, Virginia,) who was 
 one of his aids in the French and Indian war, that he 
 has frequently known Washington, on the Sabbath, 
 read scriptures and pray with his regiment, in the 
 absence of the chaplain ; and also that, on sudden and 
 unexpected visits into his marquee, he has, more 
 than once, found him on his knets at his devotions. 
 
 THE Reverend Mr JL.ee Massey, long a rector of 
 Washington s parish, and from early life his inti 
 mate, has frequentlv assured me that " he never 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 183 
 
 " knew so constant an attendant on church as Wash* 
 " ington. And his behaviour in the house of God," 
 added my reverend friend, " was so deeply reveren- 
 " tial, that it produced the happiest effects on my 
 " congregation ; and greatly assisted me in mymo- 
 " ralizing labours. No company ever withheld him 
 " from church. I have often been at Mount Ver* 
 " non, on the sabbath morning, when his breakfast 
 " table was filled with guests. But to him they 
 " furnished no pretext for neglecting his God, and 
 " losing the satisfaction of setting a good example. 
 " For instead of staying at home, out of false com- 
 " plaisance to them, he used constantly to invite 
 " them to accompany him." 
 
 His secretary, judge Harrison, has frequently 
 been heard to say, that " whenever the general 
 ** could be spared from camp on the sabbath, he 
 " never failed riding out to some neighbouring 
 " church, to join those who were publicly worship- 
 " ping the Great Creator." 
 
 AND while he resided in Philadelphia, as presi 
 dent of the United States, his constant and cheer 
 ful attendance on divine service was such as to con 
 vince every reflecting mind, that he deemed no levee 
 so honourable as that of his Almighty Maker ; no 
 pleasures equal to those of devotion ; and no busi 
 ness a sufficient excuse for neglecting his supreme 
 benefactor. 
 
 IN the winter of 77, while Washington, with the 
 American army, lay encamped at Valley Forge, a 
 certain good old FRIEND, of the respectable family 
 and name of Potts, if I mistake not, had occasion to 
 pass through the woods near head quarters. Tread 
 ing in his way along the venerable grove, suddenly he 
 heard the sound of a human voice, which, as he ad 
 vanced, increased on his ear; and at length became 
 like the voice of one speaking much in earnest. As 
 he approached the spot with a cautious step, whom 
 should he behold, in a dark natural bower of ancient 
 oaks, but the commander in chief of the American 
 
184 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 armies on his knees at prayer! Motionless with sur 
 prise, friend Potts continued on the place till the 
 general, having ended his devotions, arose ; and, with 
 a countenance of angelic serenity, retired to head 
 quarters. Friend Potts then went home, and on en 
 tering his parlour called out to his wife, " Sarah ! my 
 " dear Sarah ! all s well ! all s well ! George Wash 
 " ington will yet prevail! 7 
 
 " WHAT S the matter, Isaac ?" replied she, " thee 
 44 seems moved." 
 
 " WELL, if I seem moved, tis no more than what 
 44 I really am. I have this day seen what I never 
 44 expected. Thee knows that I always thought that 
 4 the sword and the gospel were utterly inconsistent; 
 4t and that no man could be a soldier and a Christian 
 44 at the same time. But George Washington has 
 " this day convinced me of my mistake." 
 
 HE then related what he had seen, and concluded 
 with this prophetical remark " If George Wash- 
 44 ington be not a man ot God, I am greatly deceived 
 * . an d still more shall I be deceived, if God do 
 44 not, through him, work out a great salvation for 
 44 America." 
 
 WHEN General Washington was told that the 
 British troops at Lexington, on the memorable 19th 
 of April, 1775, had fired on and killed several of the 
 Americans, he replied, " I grieve for the death of 
 my countrymen ; but rejoice that the British are still 
 so determined to keep God on our side" alluding to 
 that noble sentiment which he has since so happily 
 expressed ; viz. u The smiles of Heaven can never 
 be expected on a nation that disregards the eternal 
 rules of order and right, which Heaven itself has or- 
 aained" 
 
 WHEN called by his country in 1775, to lead her 
 free-born sons against tht arms of Britain, what 
 charming modesty, what noble self-distrust, what pi 
 ous confidence in Heaven, appeared in all his an 
 swers. " My diffidence in my own abilities" says he, 
 -was superseded by a confidence in the rectitude of 
 44 our cause, and the patronage of Heaven" 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 185 
 
 AND when called to the presidency by the unani 
 mous voice of the nation, thanking him tor his great 
 services past, with anticipations of" equally great to 
 come, his answer deserves approbation. 
 
 44 When I contemplate the interposition of Provi* 
 44 dence, as it was visibly manifested in guiding us 
 44 through the revolution in preparing us for the re 
 44 ception of a general government and in concilia- 
 44 ting the good will of the people of America towards 
 44 one another after its adoption; 1 feel myself op- 
 44 pressed and almost over-whelmed with a sense of the 
 44 divine munificence. I feel that nothing is due to my 
 44 personal agency in all those complicated and won- 
 44 derful events, except what can simply be attributed 
 44 to the exertions of an honest zeal for the good of 
 " my country" 
 
 AND when he presented himself for the first time 
 before that august body, the congress of the United 
 States, April 3Oth, 1789 when he saw before him 
 the pride of Columbia in her chosen sons, assembled 
 to consult how best to strengthen the chain of love 
 between the states to preserve friendship and har 
 mony with fore gn powers to secure the blessings 
 of civil and religious liberty and to build up our 
 young republic a great and happy peop4e among the 
 nations of the earth never patriot entered on such 
 important business with fairer hopes, whether we 
 consider the unanimity and confidence of the citi 
 zens, or his own abilities and virtues, and those of 
 his fellow-counsellors. 
 
 BUT all this would not do. Nothing short of the 
 divine friends hip could satisfy Washington. Feeling 
 the magnitude, difficulty, and danger of managing 
 such an assemblage of communities and interests ; 
 dreading the machinations of bad men, and well 
 knowing the insufficiency of all second causes, even 
 the best) he piously reminds congress of the wisdom 
 of imploring the benediction of \hzgreat first Cause, 
 without which he kne\v that his beloved country 
 would never prosper. 
 
 R 
 
186 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 44 IT would," says he, " be peculiarly improper to 
 44 omit, in this first official act, my fervent supplica- 
 " tions to that Almighty Being who rules over the 
 44 universe ; who presides in the councils of nations ; 
 44 and whose providential aids can supply every hu- 
 44 man defect, that his benediction may consecrate 
 44 to the liberties and happiness of the people of the 
 44 United States, a government instituted by them- 
 44 selves for these essential purposes; and may enable 
 44 every instrument employed in its administration to 
 41 execute with success the functions allotted to his 
 44 charge. In tendering this homage to the great 
 44 Author of every public and private good, I assure 
 44 myself that it expresses your sentiments not less 
 44 than my own ; nor those of my fellow-citizens at 
 44 large less than either. No people can be bound 
 44 to acknowledge and adore the invisible hand which 
 44 conducts the affairs of men, more than the people 
 44 of the United States. Every step, by which they 
 44 have advanced to the character of an independent 
 44 nation, seems to have been distinguished by some 
 44 token of providential agency. These reflection**; 
 44 arising out of the present crisis, have forced 
 4 * themselves too strongly on my mind to be sup- 
 44 pressed. You will join with me, I trust, in think- 
 44 ing, that there are none, under the influence of 
 44 which the proceedings of a new and free govern- 
 44 ment can more auspiciously commence." 
 
 AND after having come near to the close of this, 
 the most sensible and virtuous speech ever made to a 
 sensible and virtuous representation of a free people, 
 he adds 44 I shall take my present leave ; but not 
 44 without resorting once more to the benign Parent 
 44 of the human race in humble supplication, that, 
 44 since he has been pleased to favour the American 
 44 people with opportunities for deliberating with 
 44 perfect tranquillity, and dispositions for deciding 
 4i with unparalleled unanimity, on a form of govetn 
 44 ment for the security of their union, and tht ail 
 
 vancement of their happiness ; so his divine, bless 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 187 
 
 " ings may be equally conspicuous in the enlarged 
 41 views, the temperate consultations, and the wise 
 " measures, on which the success of this govern- 
 44 ment must depend." 
 
 IN this constant disposition to look for national 
 happiness only in national morals, flowing from the 
 sublime affections and blessed hopes of Religion, 
 Washington agreed with those great legislators of 
 nations, Moses, Lycurgus, and Numa. " I ask not 
 gold for Spartans" said Lye urgus. " Virtue is better 
 than all gold" The event showed his wisdom 
 The Spartans were invincible so long as they re 
 mained virtuous even 50O years. 
 
 44 1 ASK not wealth for Israel," cried Moses. "But 
 44 O that they were wise !...that they did but fear God 
 44 and keep his commandments ! The Lord himself 
 44 would be their sun and shield." The event proved 
 Moses a true prophet. For while they were religious 
 they were unconquerable. " United as brothers, swift 
 44 as eagles, stronger than lions, one could chase a 
 44 thousand ; and two put ten thousand to flight." 
 
 44 OF all the dispositions and habits which lead to 
 44 the. prosperity of a nation," says Washington, 
 44 Religion is the indispensable support. Volumes 
 44 could not trace all its connexions with private and 
 44 puhlic happiness. Let it simply be asked, where 
 44 is the security for property, for reputation, for 
 4 * lil-. itself, if there be no fear of God on the minds 
 u oil* hose who give their oaths in courts of justice " 
 
 BVJT some will tell us, that human laws are suffi 
 cient for the purpose ! 
 
 HUMAN laws ! Human nonsense ! For how often, 
 even where the cries and screams of the wretched 
 called aloud for lightning speeded vengeance, have 
 we not seen the sword of human law loiter in its cow 
 ard scabbard, afraid of angry royalty ? Did not that 
 vile queen Jezebel, having a mind to complimen 
 her husband with a vineyard belonging to poor Na- 
 both, suborn a couple of villains to take a false oath 
 against him ; and then cause him to be dragged out 
 
188 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 with his little motherless, crying babes, and barba 
 rously stoned to death ! 
 
 GREAT GOD ! what bloody tragedies have been 
 acted on the poor ones of the earth, by kings and 
 great men, who were above the laws, and had no 
 sense of Religion to keep them in awe !..And if men 
 be not above the laws, yet what horrid crimes ! what 
 ruinous robberies ! what wide-wasting havoc ! what 
 cruel murders may they not commit in secret, if they 
 be not withheld by the sacred arm of religion ! " In 
 44 vain, therefore," says WASHINGTON, " would that 
 44 man claim the tribute of patriotism, who should 
 44 do any thing to discountenance Religion and mora- 
 44 lity, those great pillars of human happiness, those 
 44 firmest props of the duties of men and citizens. 
 44 The mere politician, equally with the pious man, 
 44 ought to respect and cherish them." 
 
 BUT others have said, and with a serious face too, 
 that a sense of honour is sufficient to pteserve men 
 from base actions ! O blasphemy to sense ! Do we 
 not daily hear of men of honour, by dice and cards, 
 draining their fellow-citizens of the last cent, reduc 
 ing them to beggary, or driving them to a pistol ? 
 Do we not daily hear of men of honour corrupting 
 their neighbours wives and daughters, and then 
 murdering the husbands and brothers in dutls ? 
 Bind such selfish, such inhuman beings, by a sense 
 of honour ! ! Why not bind roaring lions with cob 
 webs ? " No," exclaims Washington, 4i whatever 
 41 sense of honour may do on men of refined educa- 
 44 tion, and on minds of a peculiar structure, reason 
 44 and experience both forbid us to expect that na- 
 44 tional morality can prevail in exclusion of Reli- 
 w gious principles. 
 
 AVb truly Washington had abundant reason, from 
 his own happy experience, to recommend Religion 
 so heartily to others. 
 
 FOR besides all those inestimable favours which he 
 received from her ; ^au the hands of her celestial 
 laughters, the Virlh^Jf; she threw over him her own 
 magic mantle of Character. And it was this that 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON* 189 
 
 immortalized Washington. By inspiring his coun 
 trymen with the profoundest veneration for him as 
 the best of men, it naturally smoothed his way to 
 supreme command ; so that when War, that monster 
 of satan,came on roaring against America, with all 
 his death s heads and garments rolled in blood, the 
 nation unanimously placed Washington at the head 
 of their armies, from a natural persuasion that so 
 good a man must be the peculiar favourite of Hea 
 ven, and the fastest friend of his country. How far 
 this precious instinct in favour of goodness was cor 
 rect, or how far Washington s conduct was honour 
 able to Religion and glorious to himself and country, 
 bright ages to come, and happy millions yet unborn, 
 will, we confidently hope, declare to the most distant 
 posterity. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 WASHINGTON S CHARACTER CONTINUED. 
 HIS BENEVOLENCE. 
 
 THIS only can the bliss bestow 
 Immortal souls should prove ; 
 From one short word all pleasures flow, 
 That blessed word is LOVE. 
 
 IF ever man rejoicrdin the divine administration, 
 and cordially endeavoured to imitate it by doing 
 good, George Washington was that man. Taught 
 by Religion that u God is love" he wisely concluded 
 those the most happy who love the most ; and, 
 taught by experience that it is love alone that gives 
 a participation and interest in others, capacitating us 
 to rejoice with those who rejoice, and to weep with 
 those who weep, he early studied that BENEVOLENCE 
 which rendered him so singularly the delight of 
 mankind. 
 
190 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 THE marquis De Chastellux, who visited him in 
 camp, tells us that " he was astonished and delight* 
 " ed to see the great American living among his 
 " officers and men as a father among his children, 
 " who at once revered and loved him with a filial 
 " tenderness. * 
 
 BRISSOT, another famous French traveller, assures 
 us, that " throughout the continent every body 
 " spoke of Washington as of a father." 
 
 THE dearest and best of all appellations, " The 
 
 father of his country? was the natural fruit of that 
 
 benevolence which he so carefully cultivated through 
 
 life. A singular instance of which we meet with in 
 
 1754, and the 22d year of his age. 
 
 HE was stationed at Alexandria with his regiment, 
 the only one in the colony, and of which he was colo 
 nel. There happened at this time to be an election 
 in Alexandria for members of assembly : and the 
 contest ran high between colonel George Fairfax, 
 and Mr. Elzey. Washington was the warm friend 
 of Fairfax : and a Mr. Payne headed the friends of 
 Elzey. A dispute happening to take place in the 
 court-house yard, Washington, a thing very uncom 
 mon with him, became warm ; and, which was still 
 more uncommon, said something that offended 
 Payne ; whereupon the little gentleman, who, though 
 but a cub in size, was the old lion in heart, raised his 
 sturdy hickory, and, at a single blow, brought our 
 hero to the ground. Several of Washington s offi 
 cers being present, whipped out their cold irons in an 
 instant : and it was believed that there would have 
 been murder off-hand. To make bad worse, his 
 regiment, hearing how he had been treated, bolted 
 out from their barracks, with every man his weapon 
 in his hand, threatening dreadful vengeance on those 
 who had dared to knock down their beloved colonel. 
 Happily for Mr. Payne and his party, Washington 
 recovered, time enough to go out and meet his en 
 raged soldiers : and, after thanking them for this ex 
 pression of their love, and assuring them that he 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 191 
 
 was not hurt in the least, he begged them, as they 
 loved him or their duty, to return peaceably to their 
 barracks. As for himself, he went to his room, ge 
 nerously chastising his imprudence, which had thus 
 struck up a spark that had like to have thrown the 
 whole town into a flame. Finding on mature reflec 
 tion, that he had been the aggressor, he resolved to 
 make Mr. Payne honourable reparation, by asking 
 his pardon on the morrow ! No sooner had he made 
 this noble resolution, than, recovering that delicious 
 gaiety which accompanies good purposes in a virtu 
 ous mind, he went to a ball that night, and behaved 
 as pleasantly as though nothing had happened ! Glo 
 rious proof, that great souls, like great ships, are not 
 affected by those little puffs which would overset fee 
 ble minds with passion, or sink them with spleen ! 
 
 THE next day he went to a tavern, and wrote a 
 polite note to Mr. Payne, whom he requested to 
 meet him. Mr. Payne took it for a challenge, and 
 repaired to the tavern, not without expecting to see 
 a pair of pistols produced. But what was his sur 
 prise on entering the chamber, to see a decanter of 
 wine and glasses on the table ! Washington arose, 
 and in a very friendly manner met him ; and gave 
 him his hand. " Mr. Payne," said he, " to err is 
 * nature : to rectify error is glory. I find I was 
 u wrong yesterday : but I wish to be right to-day. 
 " You have had some satisfaction : and if you think 
 " that sufficient, here s my hand ; let us be friends." 
 
 ADMIRABLE youth ! Noble speech ! No wonder, 
 since it charms us so, that it had such an effect on 
 Mr. Payne, who from that moment became the most 
 ardent admirer and friend of Washington, and rea 
 dy at any time, for his sake, to charge up to a batte 
 ry of two and forty pounders. 
 
 WHAT a lesson for our young countrymen ! Had 
 Washington been one of the race of little men, how 
 sadly different would have been his conduct on this 
 occasion ! Instead of going that night to the ball, and 
 
192 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 acting the lively agreeable friend, he would, like an 
 angry viper that had been trod on, have retired to 
 his chamber. There he would have found no such 
 entertainment as Washington had at this ball ; no 
 sprightly music, no delicious wines, no sweetly 
 smiling friends. On the contrary, all the tortures 
 of a soul broodifig over its indignities, until reflec 
 tion had whipped it up into pangs of rage unutter 
 able, while all the demons of hell, with blood-stained 
 torches pointing at his bletding honour, cried out 
 u revenge ! revenge ! revenge !" There in his cham 
 ber, he would have passed the gloomy night prepa 
 ring his pistols, moulding his bullets, or with furious 
 looks driving them through the body of his enemy 
 chalked on the wall. The next morning would have 
 seen him on the field, and in language lately heard 
 in this state, calling out to his hated antagonist, 
 Tou have injured me, sir, beyond reconciliation : and 
 
 by rilkill you if lean. While his antagonist, 
 
 in a style equally musical and Christian, would have 
 
 rejoined, Kill, and be / Pop go the pistols 
 
 down tumbles one of the combatants ; while the 
 murderer, with knocking knees and looks of Cain, 
 flies from the avenger of blood ! The murdered man 
 is carried to his house, a ghastly, bloody corpse. 
 Merciful God ! what a scene ensues ! some are stu- 
 pified with horror ! others sink lifeless to the floor ! 
 His tender sisters, wild-shrieking with despair, 
 throw themselves on their dead brother and kiss his 
 ice-cold lips ; while his aged parents, crushed un 
 der unutterable woe, go down in their snowy locks 
 broken-hearted to the grave. 
 
 THUS bloody and miserable might have been the 
 end of Washington or of Payne, had Washington 
 been one of those poor deluded young men, who are 
 determined to be $reat\ and to be brought forward in 
 newspapers, in spite of God or devil. But Washing 
 ton was not born to exemplify those horrid tragedies, 
 which co-wards create in society by pusillanimous ly 
 giving way to their bad passions. No he was born 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 193 
 
 to teach his countrymen what sweet peace and har 
 mony might for ever smile in the habitations of men, 
 if all had but the courage, like himself, to obey the 
 sacred voice of JUSTICE and HUMANITY. By firm 
 ly obeying these, he preserved his hands unstained 
 by the blood of a fellow man ; and his soul unharrow- 
 ed by the cruel tooth of never-dying remorse. By 
 firmly obeying these, he preserved a life, which, 
 crowned with deeds of justice and benevolence, has 
 brought more glory to God, more good to man, and 
 more honor to himself, than any life ever spent since 
 the race of man began. 
 
 SONS of Columbia] would you know what is true 
 courage ? see it defined, see it exemplified in this act 
 of your young but great countryman. Never man 
 possessed a more undaunted courage, than Wash 
 ington. But in him this noble quality was the life 
 guard of his reason, not the assassin ; a ready ser 
 vant to obey her commands, not a bully to insult 
 them ; a champion to defend his neighbour s rights, 
 not a tyrant to invade them. Transported by sud 
 den passion, to which all are liable, he offended 
 Mr. Payne, who resented it rather too roughly, by 
 knocking him down on the spot. Washington had 
 it in his power to have taken ample revenge : and 
 cowards, who have no command over their passions , 
 would have done it. But duty forbade him : and 
 he had the courage to obey. Reason whispered the 
 folly of harbouring black passions in his soul, poison 
 ing his peace. He instantly banished them ; and 
 went to a ball, to drink sweet streams of friendship 
 from the eyes of happy friends. Again reason 
 whispered him, that having been the aggressor, he 
 ought to ask Payne s pardon, and compromise the 
 difference with him. In this also foe had the courage 
 to obey her sacred voice. 
 
 IN what history, ancient or modern, sacred or pro 
 fane, can you find, in so young a man, only twenty 
 two, such an instance of that TRUE HEROIC VALOUR 
 which combats malignant passions conquers un- 
 
194 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 reasonable self- rejects the hell of hatred, and invites 
 the- heaven ot love into our own bosoms, and into 
 those of our brethren with whom we may have 
 quarrelled ? Joseph forgiving his brethren in the 
 land of Egypt ; David sparing that inveterate seeker 
 ot his life, Saul ; sir Walter Raleigh pardoning the 
 young man who spit in his face ; afford, it is true, 
 charming specimens of the sublime and beautiful in 
 action : certainly, such men are .worthies of the 
 world, and brightest ornaments of human nature. 
 But yet, none of them have gone beyond Washing 
 ton in the affair of Payne. 
 
 A FEW years after this, Payne had a cause tri? d in 
 Fairfax court. Washington happened on that day 
 to be in the house. The lawyer on the other side, 
 finding he was going fast to leeward, thought he 
 would luff up with a whole broadside at Payne s 
 character: and, after raking him fore and aft with 
 abuse, he artfully bore away under the lee of the 
 jury s prejudices, which he endeavoured to inflame 
 against him. 44 Yes, please your worships," con 
 tinued he, " as a proof that this Payne is a most 
 44 turbulent fellow, and capable of all I tell you, be 
 44 pleased to remember, gentlemen of the jury, that 
 u this is the very man, who some time ago treated 
 ** our beloved colonel Washington so barbarously. 
 41 Yes, this is the wretch, who dared, in this very 
 44 court-house yard, to lift up his impious hand a- 
 " gainst that greatest and best of men, and knocked 
 44 him down as though he had been ** h^lock of the 
 
 THIS, roared in a thundering tftftts ,and wiiri a tre 
 mendous stamp on the floor, made Payne look very 
 dejected ; for he saw the countenance of the court 
 beginning to blacken on him. But Washington rose 
 immediately, and thus addressed the bench : 
 
 44 As to Mr. Payne s character, may it please your 
 44 worships," said he, " we all have the satisfaction 
 44 to know that it is perfectly unexceptionable : and 
 44 with respect to the little difference which former- 
 44 ly happened between that gentleman and myself, 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 195 
 
 " it was instantly made up : and we have lived on 
 " the best terms ever since : moreover, I wish all my 
 " acquaintance to know, that I entirely acquit Mr* 
 " Payne of blame in that affair, and take it all on 
 u myself as the aggressor." 
 
 PAYNE used often to relate another anecdote of 
 Washington, which reflects equal honour on the 
 goodness of his heart. 
 
 " IMMEDIATELY after the war," said he, u when 
 " the conquering hero was returning in peace to his 
 " home, with the laurels of victory green and flourish- 
 ** ing on his head, I felt a great desire to see him, and 
 * ; so set out for Mount Vernon. As I drew near the 
 u house, I began to experience a rising fear, lest he 
 u should call to mind the blow I had given him in 
 " formerdays. However, animating myself, I pushed 
 " on. Washington met me at the door with a smiling 
 u welcome, and presently led me into an adjoining 
 " room, where Mrs. Washington sat. " Here, my 
 " dear," said he, presenting me to his lady, u here is 
 " the little man you have so often heard me talk of ; 
 " and who, on a difference between us one day, had 
 " the resolution, to knock me down, big as I am. I 
 u know you will honour him as he deserves ; for I 
 * assure you he has the heart of a true Virginian." 
 " He said this, continued Mr. Payne, " with an air 
 " which convinced me that his long familiarity with 
 " war had not robbed him of a single spark of the 
 " goodness and nobleness of his heart. And Mrs. 
 u Washington looked at him, I thought, with a some- 
 " thing in her eyes, which showed that he appeared 
 u to her greater and lovelier than ever." 
 
 A good tree, saith the divine teacher, brmgethforth 
 good fruit. No wonder then that we meet with so 
 many and such delicious fruits of CHARITY in Wash 
 ington, whose soul was so rich in benevolence. 
 
 IN consequence of his wealth and large landed pos 
 sessions, he had visits innumerable from the poor. 
 Knowing the great value of time and of good tempers 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 to them, he could not bear that they should lose ei 
 ther, by long waiting and shuffling, and blowing their 
 fingers at his door. He had a room set apart tor 
 the reception of such poor persons as had business 
 with him : and the porter had orders to conduct 
 them into it, and to inform him immediately. And 
 so affectionately attentive was he to them, that if he 
 was in company with the greatest characters on the 
 continent, when his servant informed him that a poor 
 man wished to speak to him, he would instantly beg 
 them to excuse him for a moment, and go and wait 
 on him. 
 
 WASHINGTON S conduct showed that he disliked 
 another practice, too common among some great 
 men, who, not having the power to say, yes, nor the 
 heart to say, no, to a poor man, are fain to put him 
 off with a " come again ; come again ;" and thus trot 
 him backwards and forwards, wasting his time, 
 wearing out his patience and shoes, and after all give 
 him the mortification of a disappointment. 
 
 WASHINGTON could not be guilty of such cruel 
 kindness. If he could not oblige a poor applicant, 
 he would candidly tell him so at once : but then the 
 goodness of his heart painted his regret so sensibly 
 on his countenance, that even his refusals made him 
 friends. 
 
 A POOR Irishman, wanting a small farm, and hear 
 ing that Washington had one to rent, waited on 
 him. Washington told him that he was sincerely 
 sorry that he could not assist him ; for he had just 
 disposed of it. The poor man took his leave, but 
 not without returning him a thousand thanks ! Ah, 
 do you thank me so hearti it for a refusal f u Yes, 
 * 4 upon my shoul, now please your excellency s hon- 
 " our, and I do thank you a thousand times. For 
 * many a great man would have kept me waiting 
 " like a black negro. But your excellency s hon- 
 * our has told me strait off hand that you are sorry 
 " and God bless you lorit, that you can t help nru 
 u and so your honour has done my business forme* 
 " in no time, and less." 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 197 
 
 The Potomac abounds with the finest herrings ki 
 the world, which, when salted, furnish not only to 
 the wealthy a charming relish for their tea and cof 
 fee, but also to the poor a delicious substitute for ba 
 con. But, fond as they are of this small ironed bacon, 
 as they call it, many of them have not the means to 
 procure it. Washington s heart felt for these poor 
 people ; and provided a remedy. He ordered a seine 
 and a batteau to be kept on one of his best fishing 
 shores, on purpose for the poor. If the batteau were 
 lost, or the seine spoilt, which was often the case, he 
 had them replaced with new ones immediately. And 
 if the poor who came for fish were too weak handed 
 to haul the seine themselves, they needed but to ap 
 ply to the overseer, who had orders from Washing 
 ton to send hands tp help them. Thus all the poor 
 had it in their power to come down in the season, 
 and catch the finest fish for themselves and their 
 families. In what silver floods were ever yet 
 caught the herrings, which could have given to Wash 
 ington what he tasted, on seeing the poor driving 
 away from his shores, with carts laden with delicious 
 fish, and carrying home, whooping and singing to 
 their smiling wives and children, the rich prize, a 
 whole year s plenty. 
 
 IN all his chanties, he discovered great judgment 
 and care in selecting proper objects. Character was 
 the main chance. Mount Vernon had no charms 
 for lazy, drunken, worthless beggars. Persons of 
 that description knew very well that they must make 
 their application elsewhere. He never failed to re 
 mind them of the great crime of robbing the public 
 of their services, and also the exceeding cruelty and 
 injustice of snapping up from the really indigent 
 what little charity bread was stirring. But if the 
 character were good if the poor petitioner were a 
 sober, honest, and industrious person, whom Pro 
 vidence had by sickness or losses reduced to want 
 he found a brother in Washington. It is incre 
 dible what quantities of wool, corn, -bacon, flour 
 2 S 
 
198 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 clothes, &c. were annually distributed to the poor, 
 from the almost exhaustless heap, which the bles- 
 sinus of Heaven bestowed on this, its industrious 
 and faithful steward. 
 
 " I HAP orders," said Mr. Peake, a sensible, 
 honest n.anager of one of Washington s plantations, 
 " to fill a corn-house every year, for the sole use of 
 " the poor in my neighbourhood! to whom it was 
 " a most seasonable and precious relief ; saving num- 
 * bers of poor women and children from miserable 
 * famine, and blessing them with a cheerful plen- 
 " teousness of bread." 
 
 MR. LUND WASHINGTON, long a manager of his 
 Mount Vernon estate, had similar orders. One year 
 when corn was so dear (a dollar per bushel) that 
 numbers of the poor were on the point of starving, 
 Mr. L. Washington, by order of the general, not 
 only gave away all that could be spared from the 
 granaries, but bought at that dear rate, several hun 
 dred bushels for them ! 
 
 Anecdote of Washington. The town of Alexan 
 dria, which now flourishes like a green bay tree, on 
 the waters of the Potomac, was, 50 years ago, but a 
 small village. But though small, it was lovely. Sit 
 uated on the fine plain which banks the western mar 
 gin of the river, and with snow white domes glisten 
 ing through the trees that shook their green heads 
 over the silver flood, it formed a view highly ro 
 mantic and beautiful. Hence the name of the place 
 at first was Bellhaven. But, with all the beauties to 
 the eye, Bellhaven had no charms for the palate. 
 Not that the neighbourhood of Bellhaven was a de 
 sert ; on the contrary, it was, in many places, a 
 garden spot, abounding with luxuries. But its in 
 habitants, though wealthy, were not wise. By the 
 successful culture of tobacco they had m^de money. 
 And having filled their coach-houses with gilt car 
 riages, and their dining rooms with gilt glasses, they 
 be^an to look down on the poorer sort, and to talk 
 about families. Oi course it would never do for 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON 1 99 
 
 such great people to run market carts ! ! Hence the 
 poor Bcllhavenites, though embosomed in plenty 
 were often in danger of gnawing their nails ; and, 
 unless they could cater a lamb from some goodna- 
 tured peasant, or a leash of chickens from the Sun 
 day negroes, were obliged to sit down with long fa 
 ces to a halj-graced dinner of salt meat and johnny 
 cake. This was the order of the day, A. I). 59, 
 when Washington, just married to the wealthy young 
 Mrs. Custis, had settled at Mount Vernon, nine 
 miles below Bellhaven. The unpleasant situation of 
 the families at that place soon reached his ear. To 
 a man of his character, with too much spirit to fol 
 low a bad example, when he had the power to seta 
 good one, and too much wit to look for happiness 
 any where but in his own bosom, it could not long 
 be questionable what part he had to act. A market 
 cart was instantly constructed ; and regularly, three 
 times a week, sent off to Bellhaven, filled with nice 
 roasters, kidney covered lamb and veal, green geese, 
 fat ducks, chickens by the basket, fresh butter, new 
 laid eggs, vegetables, and fruit of all sorts. Country 
 gentlemen, dining with their friends in town, very 
 soon marked the welcome change of diet. * Bless 
 us all I" exclaimed they, " what s the meaning of 
 this ? you invited us to family jar e, and here you ve 
 given us a lord mayor s feast" " Tes" replied the 
 others, " thank God for sending colonel Washington 
 into our neighbourhood" Thus, it was discovered, 
 to the extreme mortification of some of the little 
 great ones, that colonel Washington shouldever have 
 run a market cart ! ! But the better sort, who gener 
 ally, thank God, have sense enough to be led right, 
 provided they can get a leader, soon fell into the 
 track : and market carts were soon seen travelling 
 in abundance to town with every delicacy of the 
 animal and vegetable republics. 
 
 THUS the hungry wall which pride had raised 
 against Bellhaven was happily demolished. A flood- 
 tide of blessings rolk-d in from the neighbouring 
 country. The hearts of the merchants felt a fresh 
 
200 LIFE OF WASHINGTON 
 
 pulse of love for their brothers, the farmers : and 
 even the lictle children, with cheeks red as the ap 
 ples they seized, were taught to lisp the praises of 
 Go. 1 . And all this, reader, through the active be- 
 nevot *nce of one man. 
 
 THE following anecdote was related to me by his 
 excellent v governor Johnson (Maryland,) one of 
 the few su viving heroes of 76. 
 
 " You set m, sir," said he addressing himself to 
 me, u very und of collecting anecdotes of Gen. 
 Washington. Well, I ll tell you one, to which you 
 may attach the uiost entire faith ; for I have heard 
 it a dozen times a \d oftener, from the lips of a very 
 valuable man and a magistrate, in Conostoga, a 
 Mr. Conrad Hogni) -r." " Just before the revolu 
 tionary war," said Mr. Hogmyer, " I took a trip for 
 my health s sake to the Sweet Springs of Virginia, 
 where I found a world v f people collected ; some, 
 like me, looking for heaHh, others for pleasure. In 
 consequence of the crowd, I was at first rather hard 
 run for lodgings / but at L ngth was lucky enough 
 to get a mattrass in the hut of a very honest baker 
 of my acquaintance, who oflv>n visited the springs 
 for the benefit of his oven. l*eing the only man of 
 the trade on the turf, and well skilled in the science 
 of dough, he met with no small t-ncoaragement : and 
 it was really a subject of surprize to see the heaps of 
 English loaves, Indian pones, Frt nch bricks, cakes, 
 and crackers, which lay piled on Sis counter every 
 morning. I often amused myself in marking the 
 various airs and manners of the different waiters, 
 who, in gay liveries and shining faces, came every 
 morning, rattling down their silver, and tripping 
 away with their bread by the basket. -Among those 
 gay looking sons and daughters of Africa, I saw 
 every now and then, a poor Lazarite, with sallow 
 cheek and hollow eye, slowly creeping to the door, 
 and at a nod from the baker, eagerly seize a fine loaf, 
 and bear it off without depositing a cent. Surely, 
 thought I to myself, this baker must be the best man, 
 tor he greatest fool iii the world. p ut fearing that 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 201 
 
 this latter cop best fitted his pericranium, I one 
 morning con d not help breaking my mind to him, 
 for crediting his bread to such very unpromising 
 dealers. u Stophel," for that was his name, " you 
 seem," said I, u to sell a world of bread here every 
 " dny ; but, notwithstanding that, I fear you don t 
 u gain much by it." 
 
 * No ! squire ? What makes you think so ?" 
 
 4< You credit too much, Stophel." 
 
 " NOT I indeed, strict I. I don t credit a penny." 
 
 u AY ! how do you make that out, Stophel, don t I 
 see the poor people every day carrying away your 
 bread, and yet paying you nothing ?" 
 
 " PSHAW, no matter for that, squire. They ll 
 pay me all in a lump at last." 
 
 AT last! At last! Oh ho, at the last day, I 
 suppose you mean, Stophel ; when you have the con 
 science to expect that God Almighty will stand pay 
 master, and wipe off all your old scores for you, at 
 a dash." 
 
 " Oh no ! squire, we poor bakers can t give such 
 long credit! but I ll tell you how we work the matter. 
 The good man cornel George Washington is here. 
 Every season as soon as he comes, he calls and says 
 to me, u S*ophel, you seem to havr a great deal of 
 company ; and some, I fear, who don t come here 
 for pleasure, and yet, you know, they can t do with 
 out eating. Though pale and sickly, they must 
 have bread. But it will never do to make them pay 
 for it. Poor creatures ! they seem already low spirited 
 enough through sickness and poverty. Their spirits 
 must not be sunk lower by taking from them every 
 day what little money they have pinched from their 
 poor fan iiies at home. I ll tell you what s to be done, 
 Stophe . You must give each of them a good hot loaf 
 every morning, and charge it to me. When I am go 
 ing away, I ll pay you all. And believe me, squire, 
 he h.-s oit. j n, at the end of the season, paid me as 
 much as 80 dollars, and that too for poor creatures 
 who did not know the hand that fed them ; for I had 
 
202 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 strict orders from him not to mention a syllable of it 
 to any body." 
 
 BUT though so kind to the bodies, Washington was 
 still more kind and costly in his charities to the minds 
 of the poor. Sensible that a republican government, 
 that is, a government of the people, can never long 
 subsist where the minds of the people are not enlight 
 ened, he earnestly recommended it to the citizens of 
 the United States, to promote, as an object of primary 
 importance, institutions for the general diffusion of 
 knowledge. In this, as indeed in all other cases 
 where any thing great or good was to be done, Wash 
 ington led the way. 
 
 HE established a chanty school in Alexandria, and 
 endowed it wiih a donation of four thousand dollars / 
 The interest was regularly paid and expended on the 
 education of fifteen boys. My young friend, the 
 reverend Mr. Wiley, who, for talents, taste, and 
 classical erudition, has few superiors in America, 
 was educated by Washington. 
 
 IN 1785, the assembly of his native state, Virginia, 
 <c desirous to embrace," as they said, " every suit- 
 * able occasion of testifying their sense of the unex- 
 " ampled merits of George Washington, esq." pre 
 sented him whh fifty shares in the Potomac, and one 
 hundred shares in the James River Navigation Com 
 pany ; making, in the whole, the important sum of 
 ten thousand pounds sterling ! 
 
 OF this public act, they requested the governor to 
 transmit Washington a copy. In answer he ad 
 dressed a letter to the governor, in which, u I take 
 <l the liberty (says he) of returning to the general 
 44 assembly, through your hands, the profound and 
 44 grateful acknowledgments inspired by so signal a 
 44 mark of their beneficent intentions towards me." 
 
 HE goes on to beg that they would excuse his de 
 termined resolution not to accept a farthing of it for 
 his own use 4 * But" continued he, 4t if it should 
 44 please the general assembly to permit me to turn 
 44 the destination of the fund vested in me, from my 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 203 
 
 u private emolument, to objects of a public nature, 
 4< it shall be my study, in selecting, to prove thesin- 
 " cerity of my gratitude for the honour conferred on 
 u me, by preferring such as may appear most subser- 
 * vient to the enlightened and patriotic views of the 
 u legislature." 
 
 THEY were cheerfully submitted to his disposal : 
 and, according to promise, he appropriated them to 
 works of the greatest utility : viz. his shares in James 
 River canal, to a college in Rockbridge county, near 
 the waters of James River ; and his Potomac shares 
 to a national university, to be erected in the federal 
 district, on the great Potomac. 
 
 How noble and disinterested were his wishes for 
 the good of his country ! As if incapable of being sa 
 tisfied with all that he had done for her while living, 
 he endeavoured, by founding those noble institutions 
 for the diffusion of knowledge and virtue, to make 
 himself her benefactor when he should cease to live in 
 this sublunary world. 
 
 SINCE the idea is perfectly correct, that the great 
 Governor of the world must look with peculiar benig 
 nity on those of his children who most nearly resem 
 ble him in benevolence, may we not indulge the 
 pleasing hope, that these colleges, founded by such 
 a hand, shall prove the nurseries of the brightest gen 
 ius and virtue ; and that from their sacred halls will 
 proceed in endless succession, the mighty Washing- 
 tons, and Jejfersons, the Franklins and Madisons of 
 future times ! O that Columbia may live before God ! 
 and that the bright days of ner prosperity may never 
 have an end ! 
 
 WASHINGTON S behaviour to the generous Fayette 
 ought never to be forgotten. 
 
 WHEN that glorious young nobleman heard that 
 lord North had passed against America the decree of 
 slavery ; and that the American farmers, with their 
 rusty firelocks and pitchforks, in front of their shriek 
 ing wives and children, were inch by inch disputing 
 the soil against a hireling soldiery, he tears gushed 
 from his eyes. He tore himself from the arms of the 
 
204 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 loveliest, fondest of wives ; flew to his sovereign for 
 permission to fight ; turned into powder and arms 
 every livre that he could raise , and, in a swift sail 
 ing frigate rushing through the waves to America, 
 presented himself before Washington. Washington 
 received him as his son, and gave him command. 
 Under the eye of that hero he fought and conquered. 
 Having aided to fix the independence of strangers, 
 he hastened back to France, to liberate his own 
 countrymen from the curses of monarchy ; and to 
 give them, like America, the blessings of a republic. 
 A pupil of the temperate and virtuous Washington, 
 he soon offended the hot headed demagogues of 
 France. Banished from his native country, he was 
 presently thrown, by royal jealousy, into a foreign 
 prison. Most of us here ie America, on hearing of 
 his misfortunes, felt the kindly touch of sympathy. 
 But alas ! like those good people in the parable, we 
 were so taken up with u buying land, trying oxen, 
 or marrying wives," that we forgot our noble friend. 
 But Washington did not forget him. His thoughts 
 were often with him in his gloomy cell, Pie sent 
 him a present of a thousand guineas and in a letter 
 to the Emperor of Germany, with equal delicacy and 
 feeling, solicited his discharge, and permission to 
 come to America. The letter concluded with these 
 remarkable words : " As it is a maxim with me 
 " never to ask what, under similar circumstances, I 
 " would not grant, your majesty will do me the justice 
 u to believe, that this request appears to me to cor- 
 " respond with those great principles of magnanimi- 
 a ty and wisdom which form the basis of sound poli- 
 4 * cy and durable glory." 
 
 THIS letter produced, in part, the desired effect. 
 For immediately after the receipt of it, the marquis 
 experienced a great increase of attention : and in a 
 short time he was liberated. Such was the respect 
 paid to our American farmer, bv one of the greatest 
 monarchs in Europe. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 205 
 
 IN 1795, the marquis s son made his escape from 
 France, and arrived at Boston. Soon as Washington 
 heard of it, he sent his parental respects to the youth, 
 and informed him, that, though, from motives of 
 tenderness to his mother, who was in the power of 
 the directory, he could not be seen publicly to notice 
 him, yet he begged to be considered by him as his 
 father and protector advised him to enter as a stu 
 dent in the university near Boston, and to draw on 
 him for whatever monies he should want. 
 
 CONGRESS, on hearing that a, son of the noble mar 
 quis was in America, felt a deep interest in the youth, 
 and ordered an immediate enquiry into his situation, 
 intending generous things for him out of the national 
 treasury. But finding that on this, as on all other 
 occasions, Washington had done honour to the Ame 
 rican name, they rejoiced exceedingly, and let the 
 matter drop. 
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 WASHINGTON S CHARACTER CONTINUED. 
 HIS INDUSTRY. 
 
 AWAKE, my boy ! and let the rising sun 
 Blush to see his vigilance outdone ; 
 In cheerful works consume the fleeting day, 
 Toil thy pleasure, and business all thy play. 
 
 BUT of all the virtues that adorned the life of this 
 great man, there is none more worthy of our imita 
 tion than his admirable INDUSTRY. It is to this vir 
 tue in her Washington, that America stands indebt 
 ed for services past calculation : and it is from this 
 virtue, that Washington himself snatched a wreath 
 of glory that will never fade away. O that the good 
 T 
 
206 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 genius of America may prevail ! that the example of 
 this, her favourite son, may be but universally adopt 
 ed ! Soon shall our land be free from all those sloth- 
 begotten demons which now haunt and torment us. 
 For whence do all our miseries proceed, but from 
 lack of industry ! In a land like this, which heaven 
 has blessed above all lands a land abounding with 
 \\\ejish and^fosA pots of Egypt, and flowing with the 
 choicest milk and honey of Canaan a land where the 
 poorest Lazarus may get \\\s fifty cents a day for the 
 commonest labour and buy the daintiest bread of 
 corn flour for a cent a pound! why is any man hun 
 gry, or thirsty, or naked, or in prison ? why but 
 through his own unpardonable sloth ? 
 
 BUT alas ! what would it avail, though the blest 
 shade of Washington were to descend from his na 
 tive skies, and, with an angel s voice, recommend 
 industry as the handmaid of health, wealth, innocence, 
 and happiness to man. A notion, from the land of lies, 
 has taken too deep root among some, that " labour is 
 a low-lived thing, Jit for none but poor people and 
 slaves ! and that dress and pleasure are the only ac 
 complishments for a gentleman ! But does it become 
 a gentleman to saunter about, living on the charity of 
 his relations to suffer himself to be dunned by cre 
 ditors, and, like a hunted wolf, to fly from the face of 
 sheriffs and constables ? Is it like a gentleman to take 
 a generous woman from her parents, and reduce her 
 to beggary to see even her bed sold from under her, 
 and herself and weeping infants turneaoutof doors ? 
 Is it like a gentleman to reduce one s children to 
 rags, and to drive them like birds of heaven, to 
 hedges and highways, to pick berries, filling their 
 pale bloated bodies with disease ? Or is it like a. gen 
 tleman to bring up one s sons in sloth, pleasure, and 
 drt ss, as young noblemen, and then leave them with 
 out estates, profession, or trades, to turn gamblers, 
 sbaipers, or horse thieves ? " From such gentlemen, 
 oh nave my country, Heaven /" was Washington s per 
 petual prayer, the emphatical prayer of his life and 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 207 
 
 great example ! In his ear, Wisdom was heard inces 
 santly calling aloud, " He is the real gentleman, who 
 cheerfully contributes his every exertion to accom 
 plish heaven s favourite designs, the beauty, order and 
 happiness of human life; whose industry appears in a 
 plentiful house and smiling wife ; in the decent ap 
 parel of his children, and in their good education and 
 virtuous manners ; who is not afraid to see any man 
 on earth ; but meets his creditors with a smiling coun 
 tenance, and with the welcome music of gold and 
 silver in his hand ; who exerts an honest industry 
 for wealth, that he may become as a water-course in 
 a thirsty land, a source of refreshment to a thousand 
 poor." 
 
 THIS was the life, this the example set by Wash 
 ington. His whole inheritance was but a small tract 
 of poor land in Stafford county, and a few negroes. 
 This appearing utterly insufficient for those purposes 
 of usefulness, with the charms of which his mind 
 seems to have been early smitten, he resolved to make 
 up the deficiency by dint of industry and economy. 
 For these virtues, how excellent ! how rare in youth! 
 Washington was admirably distinguished when but 
 a boy. At a time when many young men have no 
 higher ambition than a fine coat and a frolic, " often 
 have I seen him (says the reverend Mr. Lee Massey) 
 riding about the country with his surveying 1 instru 
 ments at his saddle" enjoying the double satisfaction 
 of obliging his fellowcitizens by surveying their lands, 
 and of making money, not meanly to hoard, but gene 
 rously to lend to any -worthy object that asked it. This 
 early industry was one of the first steps to Washing 
 ton s preferment. It attracted on him the notice 
 and admiration of his numerous acquaintance, and, 
 which was still more in his favour, it gave such un 
 common strength to his constitution, such vigour to 
 his mind, such a spirit for adventure, that he was 
 ready for any glorious enterprize, no matter how dif 
 ficult or dangerous. Witness the expedition from 
 Williamsburg through the Indian country to the Ohio, 
 
208 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 which at the green age of twenty-one, he undertook for 
 governor Dinwiddie. Indeed this uncommon attach 
 ment to industry and useful life, made such an im 
 pression on the public mind in his favour, that by the 
 time he was one and twenty he was appointed major 
 and adjutant-general of the Virginia rorces in the 
 Northern Neck ! 
 
 THERE was at this time a young fellow in Wil- 
 liamsburg by the name of Jack B , who pos 
 sessed considerable vivacity, great good-nature, and 
 several accomplishments of the bon companion sort. 
 He could tell a good story, sing agreeably, scrape a 
 little on the fiddle, and cut as many capers to the tune 
 of old Roger, as any buck a going ; and being, besides, 
 a young fellow of fortune, and son of an intimate ac 
 quaintance, Jack was a great favourite of the gover 
 nor, and much at his house. But all this could not save 
 poor Jack from the twinges of envy. For, on hearing 
 every body talk in praise of Major Washington, he 
 could not help saying one day at the governor s table, 
 " / wonder what makes the people so wrapped up in 
 major Washington : I think, begging your excellency s 
 pardon, I had as good a right to a major s commis 
 sion" " Ah, Jack," replied the governor, " when we 
 want diversion, -we send for you. But when we want 
 a man of business, we send for Major Washington" 
 
 NEVER was the great Alfred more anxious to im 
 prove his time than our Washington : and it appears 
 that, like Alfred, he divided his time into four grand 
 departments, sleep, devotion, recreation, and busi 
 ness. On the hours of business, whether in his own 
 or his country s service, he would allow nothing to 
 infringe. While in camp, no company, however il 
 lustrious no pleasures, however elegant no conver 
 sation, however agreeable could prevail on him to 
 neglect his business. The moment that his hour of 
 duty was come, he would fill his glass, and with a 
 smile, call out his friends around the social board, 
 " well, gentlemen, here is bon repos" and immediately 
 withdraw to business. Bon repos is a French cant 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 209 
 
 for good night. Washington drank it as a signal to 
 break up ; for the moment the company had swal 
 lowed the general s bon repos, it was hats and of. 
 General Wayne, who, happily for America, under 
 stood fighting better than French, had some how or 
 other taken up a notion, that this same bon repos, to 
 whom Washington made such conscience of giving 
 his last bumper, must have been some great warrior 
 of the times of old. Having, by some extraordinary 
 luck, gotten hold of two or three dozen of good old 
 wine, he invited a parcel of hearty fellow-officers to 
 dine with him, and help him to break them to the 
 health of America. Soon as the cloth was removed, 
 and the bottles on the table, the hero of Stony Point 
 cried out, " come my brave fellows, fill your glasss ; 
 herJs old bon r epos for ever"t The officers were thun 
 derstruck : but having turned off their wine, rose up, 
 one and all to go. " Hey day ! what s all this, gentle- 
 " men ? what s all this ?" " Why," replied they, 
 " did not you drink bon repos, or good night ?" 
 
 " WHAT ! is that the meaning of it ?" " Yes," 
 u Oh ! then damn old bon repos, and take your seats 
 " again : for, by the life of Washington, you shan t 
 " stir a peg till we have started every drop of our 
 " wine." 
 
 WHILE he was employed in choosing a place on 
 the Potomac, for the federal city, his industry was no 
 less remarkable. Knowing how little is generally 
 done before breakfast, he made it a rule to rise so 
 early as to have breakfast over, and be on horseback 
 by the time the sun was up. Let the rising genera 
 tion remember that he was then sixty years of age ! 
 
 ON his farm, his husbandry of time was equally 
 exemplary. He contemplated a great object : an 
 object worthy of Washington. He aimed at teaching 
 his countrymen the art of enriching their lands, and 
 consequently, of rendering the condition of man, and 
 beast more plentiful and happy. He had seen thou 
 sands of acres, which, by constant cultivation, had 
 lost the Dower of covering their nakedness even with 
 T2 
 
210 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 a suit of humble sedge. He had seen thousands of 
 wretched cattle, which, driven out houseless and hay- 
 less into the cold wintry rains, presented such trem 
 bling spectacles of starvation and misery, as were 
 enough to start the tear into Pity s eye. To remedy 
 these cruel evils (which certainly they are, for He 
 who lent us these animals never meant that we should 
 make their lives a curse to them, much less to our 
 children, hardened by such daily sights of misery,) 
 Washington generously set himself to make artificial 
 meadows j to cultivate fields of clover ; and to raise 
 the most nutricious vegetables, such as cabbage, tur 
 nips, scarcity and potatoes ; of which last article he 
 planted in one year 700 bushels ! To render these vast 
 supplies of food the more beneficial to his cattle, he 
 built houses of shelter for them all. " He shewed me 
 " a barn," says Brissot, " upwards of 100 feet square, 
 " and of brick, designed as a store-house for his corn, 
 " potatoes, turnips, &c. around which he had con- 
 " structed stables of an amazing length, for his cat- 
 " tie." Every one of them had a stall well littered 
 with leaves or straw ; and a rack and manger well 
 furnished with hay and provender. 
 
 THE pleasure and profits arising from such an ar 
 rangement are incalculable. How delicious must it 
 have been to a man of Washington s feelings, to re 
 flect that, even in the very worst weather, every crea 
 ture, on his extensive farms, was warmly and com 
 fortably provided ; to have seen his numerous flocks 
 and herds, gamboling around him through excess of 
 joy, and fullness of fat ; to have beheld his steps 
 washed with butter, and his dairies floated with rivers 
 of milk ; to have seen his once naked fields and frog- 
 croaking swamps, now, by clearance or manure, con 
 verted into meadows, standing thick with heavy crops 
 of timothy and sweet scented clover ; while his farm 
 yards were piled with such quantities of litter and 
 manure as afforded a constantly increasing fertility 
 to his lands. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 211 
 
 HERE was an employment worthy of Washing 
 ton ; an employment, which we might indeed have 
 expected from him, who, through life, had studied 
 the best interests of his countrymen ; who, first as a 
 soldier, had defended them from slavery, and crowned 
 them with liberty ; then, as a statesman, had pre 
 served them from war, and secured to them the bles 
 sings of peace ; and now as the last, but not least 
 services of his life, was teaching them the great arts 
 of improving their farms, multiplying their cattle, 
 enriching their lands, and thus pouring a flood of 
 plenty and of comfort through the joyful habitations 
 of man and beast. 
 
 FULL of the greatly benevolent idea, no wonder 
 that he was so frugal of his time. Though the most 
 hospitable of all the hospitable Viriginans, he would 
 not suffer the society of his dearest friends to take 
 him from his business. Long accustomed to find 
 his happiness in doing his duty, he had attained to 
 such a royal arch degree of virtue, as to be restless 
 and uneasy while his duty was neglected. Hence, 
 of all that ever lived, Washington was the most ri 
 gidly observant of those hours of business which 
 were necessary to the successful management of his 
 vast concerns. " Gentlemen, (he would often say to 
 his friends who visited him) I must beg leave of ab 
 sence a few hours in the forenoon : here is plenty of 
 amusements, books, music, &c. Consider yourselves 
 at home, and be happy." He came in about twelve 
 o clock ; and then, as if animated by the consciousness 
 of having done his duty, and that all was going right, 
 would give himself up to his friends and to decent 
 mirth the rest of the day. 
 
 BUT his mornings were always his own. Long 
 before the sun peeped into the chambers of the slug 
 gard, Washington was on horseback, and out among 
 his overseers and servants : and neither himself nor 
 any about him were allowed to eat the bread of idle 
 ness. The happy effects c.f such industry were ob- 
 viotos. Well manured and tilled, his lands yielded a 
 
212 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 grateful return : and it was at once pleasing and as 
 tonishing to behold the immense quantities of fine hay, 
 of fat cattle, and choice grain, that were raised on his 
 farms ; of wheat 7000 bushels in one year, and 5000 
 bushels of Indian corn ! His servants fared plentiful 
 ly. His cattle never had the hollow horn. And the 
 surplus of his produce, sold to the merchants, furnish 
 ed bread to the needy, and a revenue to himself more 
 than sufficient to defray his vast expenditures, and to 
 spread a table of true Virginian hospitality for those 
 crowds of friends and foreigners whom affection or 
 curiosity led to visit him. 
 
 OH! DIVINE Industry! queen mother of all our 
 virtues and of all our blessings ! what is there of 
 GREAT or of GOOD in this wide world that springs not 
 from thy royal bounty ? And thou, O ! infernal Sloth ! 
 fruitful fountain of all our crimes and curses ! what is 
 there of mean or of miserable in the lot of man that 
 flows not from thy hellish malice ? 
 
 WHAT was it that betrayed David, otherwise the 
 best of kings, into the worst of crimes? IDLENESS. 
 Sauntering about idly on the terrace of his palace, he 
 beheld the naked beauties of the distant bathing Bath- 
 sheba. Lust, adultery, and murder were the conse 
 quences. 
 
 WHAT was it that brought on a ten year s war be 
 tween the Greeks and Trojans ? IDLENESS. Young 
 Paris, the coxcomb of Troy, having nothing to do, 
 strolls over to the court of Menelaus (a Greek prince) 
 whose beauteous wife, Helen, the black-eyed queen 
 of love, he corrupts and carries off to Troy. A 
 bloody war ensues. Paris is slain. His father, bro 
 thers, and myriads of wretched subjects are slaugh 
 tered : and Troy, the finest city of Asia, is reduced 
 to ashes! 
 
 WHAT was it that hurried poor Mr. A -d to 
 
 that horrid act of suicide, which froze the blood of all 
 who heard it ? Idleness. His young wife, with all that 
 we could conceive ot sweetness, tenderness, and truth 
 in an angel s form ; and his three beauteous babes 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 213 
 
 were the three graces in smiling infancy. But oh, 
 wretched man ! having nothing to do ! he strolled to 
 a tavern, and to a card-table, where he lost his all ! 
 five thousand pounds, lately settled on him by a fond 
 father ! He awakes to horrors unutterable ! What will 
 become of his ruined wife ! his beggared babes ? Be 
 lieving his torments little inferior * to those of the 
 damned, he seizes the fatal pistol ; drives the scorch 
 ing bullet through his brains ; and flies a shrieking 
 ghost to join the mournful throng ! 
 
 O SAD sight ! see yon tall young man, in powder 
 and ruffles, standing before his judges, trembling like 
 an aspen, and pale and blank as the picture of guilt ; 
 while the crowded court house, every countenance 
 filled with pity or contempt, is fixed upon him. Alas ! 
 what could have brought him to this ? Idleness. His 
 father happening to possess 500 acres of poor land, 
 and a few negroes, thought it would be an eternal 
 disgrace to his familiy to bring up his son, (though he 
 had many) to be a mechanic. No : he must be a gen 
 tleman ! ! Grown to man s estate, and having no pro 
 fession, trade, or habit of industry to support this plea 
 sant life, he took to horse-stealing. If we had leisure 
 to wait, we should presently see this unhappy youth, 
 on receiving sentence of death, bursting into sobs and 
 cries sufficient to make us wish he had never been 
 born. But let us leave these horrible scenes of 
 shame, misery, and death, into which idleness never 
 fails to bring poor deluded youth, and joyfully return 
 to our beloved Washington, and to his health, wealth, 
 and glory-giving goddess, Industry. 
 
 WHAT is it that braces the nerves, purifies the 
 blood, and hands down the flame of life, bright and 
 sparkling, to old age ? What, but rosy cheeked Indus 
 try. See Washington so invigorated by constant ex 
 ercise, that, though hereditarily subject to the gout, 
 of which all his family died, he entirely escaped it ; 
 and, even at the age of 66, continued straight and ac 
 tive as a young grenadier, and ready once more at his 
 country s call, to lead her eager warriors to the field. 
 
214 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 WHAT is it that preserves the morals of young 
 men unsoiled, and secures the blessings of unblem 
 ished character and unbroken health ? What, but 
 snow-robed industry ? See Washington under the 
 guardianship of industry, walking the slippery paths 
 of youth, safe and uncorrupted, though born in a 
 country whose fertility and climate furnished both 
 the means and invitation to vice. Early smitten with 
 the love of glory ; early engaged in the noble pursuit 
 of knowledge, of independence, and of usefulness ; he 
 had no eyes to see bad examples nor ensnaring 
 objects ; no ears to hear horrid oaths, nor obscene 
 language ; no leisure for impure passions nor criminal 
 amours. Hence he enjoyed that purity of soul, which 
 is rightly called its sunshine ; and which impressed 
 a dignity on his character, and gave him a beauty 
 and loveliness in the eyes of men, that contributed 
 more to his rise in the world, than young people can 
 rea dilyconcevie. 
 
 AND what is it that raises a young man from po 
 verty to wealth, from obscurity to never-dying fame ? 
 What, but industry ? See Washington, born of hum 
 ble parents, and in humble circumstances born in a 
 narrow nook and obscure corner of the British plan 
 tations ! yet lo ! What great things wonder-working 
 industry can bring out of this unpromising Nazareth. 
 While but a youth, he manifested such a noble con 
 tempt of sloth, such a manly spirit to be always learn 
 ing or doing something useful or clever, that he 
 was the praise of all who knew him. And, 
 though but 15, so high were the hopes entertained 
 of him, he was appointed a surveyor ! arduous task ! 
 But his industry was a full match for it. Such was 
 the alertness with which he carried on his surveys ; 
 such the neatness and accuracy of his plats and drafts, 
 that he met with universal applause. Full-fed and 
 flushed with so much fare of praise, a fare of all 
 others the most toothsome and wholesome to generous 
 minds, our young eagle began to flap his wings of 
 honest ambition, and to pant for nobler darings. A 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 215 
 
 fair occasion was soon offered a dangerous expe 
 dition through the Indian wilds, as already mentioned, 
 to the French Mamelukes on the Ohio. Nobody else 
 having ambition for such an adventure, Washington s 
 offer was gladly accepted. And he executed that ha 
 zardous and important trust with such diligence and 
 propriety, that he received the thanks of the gover 
 nor and council. Honours came down on him now 
 in showers. He was appointed major and adjutant- 
 general of the Virginia forces ; then a colonel ; 
 afterwards a member of the house of burgesses ; 
 next, generalissimo of the armies of the United 
 States ; and, finally, chief magistrate of the Union. 
 All these floods of prosperity and honour, which in 
 thousands would have but served to bloat with lust or 
 pride, with him served but the more to rouse his in 
 dustry, and to enlarge his usefulness ; for such was 
 his economy of time, and so admirable his method 
 and regularity of business, that he always kept a-head 
 of it. 1 * No letters of consequence were unanswered. 
 No reasonable expectations were disappointed. No 
 necessary information was ever neglected. Neither 
 the congress, nor the governors of the several states, 
 nor the officers of his army, nor the British generals, 
 nor even the overseers and stewards on his farms, 
 were uninformed whathe expected from fliem. Nobody 
 concerned with him was idle or fretted for want of 
 knowing what to do. 
 
 * He was taken ill on Friday. An intimate friend 
 asked him if he wished to have any thing done on the 
 arrangement of his temporal affairs. He shook his 
 head, and replied, " No, I thank you ; for my books 
 " are all posted to Tuesday !" That industry and me 
 thod must be truly astonishing, which in the manage 
 ment of possessions so vast and complicated as his, 
 kept every thing so harmoniously adjusted, as to be 
 ready, at a moment s warning, to leave the world for 
 ever without a wish to alter a tittle. 
 
216 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 O ADMIRABLE MAN ! O great preceptor to his 
 country ! no wonder every body honoured him who 
 honoured every body ; for the poorest beggar that 
 wrote to him on business, was sure to receive a 
 speedy and decisive answer. No wonder every body 
 loved him, who, by his unwearied attention to the 
 public good, manifested the tenderest love for every 
 body. No wonder that his country delighted to honour 
 him, who shewed such a sense of her honours that he 
 would not allow even a leaf of them to wither ; but 
 so watered them all with the refreshing streams of 
 industry, that they continued to bloom with ever-in 
 creasing glory on his head. 
 
 SINCE the day that God created man on the earth, 
 none ever displayed the power of industry more sig 
 nally than did George Washington. Had he, as 
 prince of Wales, or as dauphin of France, rendered 
 such great services, or attained such immortal ho 
 nours, it would not have seemed so marvellous in our 
 eyes. But that a poor young man with neither king, 
 lords, nor commons to back him with no princes, 
 nor strumpets of princes, to curry favour for him 
 with no gold but his virtue, no silver but his industry, 
 should, with this old-fashioned coin, have stolen 
 away the hearts of all the American Israel, and from 
 a sheep-cot have ascended the throne of his country s 
 affections, and acquired a name above the mighty 
 ones of the earth ! this is marvellous indeed ! It 
 is surely the noblest panegyric ever yet paid to 
 that great virtue, industry, which has " length of 
 days in her right hand ; and in her left hand riches 
 and honours." 
 
 YOUNG READER ! go thy way , think of Washing 
 ton ; and HOPE. Though humble thy birth, low thy 
 fortune, and few thy friends, still think of Washing 
 ton ; and HOPE. Like him, honour thy God; and de 
 light in glorious toil. Then, like him, " thou shall 
 " stand before kings. Thou shalt not stand before 
 " common men." 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON 217 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 WASHINGTON S CHARACTER CONTINUED. 
 
 HIS PATRIOTISM. 
 
 u eternal King of men and angels, elevate our 
 minds ! each low and partial passion thence dispel ! 
 till this great truth in every heart be known, that 
 none but those who aid the public cause, can shield 
 their country or themselves from chains" 
 
 LEONIDAS. 
 
 IN this grand republican virtue, we can with plea 
 sure compare our Washington with the greatest 
 worthies of ancient or modern times. 
 
 THE patriotism of the Roman emperor, Alexan 
 der, has been celebrated through all ages, because he 
 was never known to give any place through favour or 
 friendship; but employed those only whom he believ 
 ed to be best qualified to serve his country. In our 
 Washington we meet this great and honest emperor 
 again. For, in choosing men to serve his country, 
 Washington knew no recommendation but merit 
 had nojavouris but worth. No relations, however 
 near no friends, however dear stood any chance 
 for places under him, provided he knew men better 
 qualified. Respecting such men, he never troubled 
 himself to enquire, whether they were foreigners or 
 natives, federalists or democrats. Some of the 
 young officers of his native state, on hearing that 
 colonel Washington was made COMMANDER IN CHIEF, 
 were prodigiously pleased, expecting to be made 
 Reid officers immediately. But in this they were so 
 utterly mistaken, that some of them have foolishly 
 said, t4 it was a misfortune to be a Virginian" In 
 deed, his great soul was so truly republican* that, 
 
218 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 during the whole of his administration, he was never 
 known to advance an individual or his own name 
 and family. 
 
 THE British, with good reason, admire and extol 
 admiral Blake as one of the bravest and .best of pa 
 triots ; because, though he disliked Oliver Cromwell, 
 yet he fought gallantly under him ; and, with his dy 
 ing breath, exhorted his men, u to love their coun 
 try as a common mother ; and, no matter -what hands 
 the government might fall into, to fight for her like 
 good children" 
 
 OF the same noble spirit was Washington. Often 
 was he called to obey men greatly his inferiors, and 
 to execute orders which he entirely disapproved. 
 But he was never known to falter. Sensible of the 
 infinite importance of union and order to the good of 
 his country, he ever yielded a prompt obedience to 
 her delegated will. And, not content with setting us, 
 through life, so fair an example, he leaves us at his 
 death, this blessed advice : < l Your government 
 claims your utmost confidence and support. RE 
 SPECT for its AUTHORITY, compliance with its laws, 
 acquiescence in its measures, are duties enjoined by 
 the fundamental maxims oi TRUE LIBERTY. The basis 
 of our political system is the right of the people to 
 make and alter their constitutions of government. 
 But the constitution, which at any time exists, until 
 changed bv an explicit and authentic act of the whole 
 people, is SACREDLY OBLIGATORY UPON ALL." 
 
 HISTORY has lavished its choicest praises on those 
 magnanimous patriots, who, in their wars for liberty 
 and their country, have cheerfully sacrificed their 
 own wealth to defeat the common enemy. 
 
 EQUAL to this was the spirit of Washington. For, 
 during the war, while he was with the army to the 
 north, a British frigate came up the Potomac, to 
 Mount Vernon ; and threatened to lay the place in 
 ashes, if provisions were not instantly sent on boi.vd. 
 To save that venerable mansion, the manager sent 
 aboard the requisite supplies. On hearing the mat 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON 
 
 tcr, Washington wrote his manager the following 
 letter : 
 
 4i SIR It gives me extreme concern to hear that 
 * you furnished the enemy with refreshments. It 
 u would have been a less painful circumstance to me, 
 * l to have heard, that, in consequence of your non- 
 compliance with their request, they had laid my 
 " plantation in ruins. GEORGE WASHINGTON." 
 
 BUT, among all his splendid acts of patriotism 
 there is none which, with so little noise, may do us 
 more go?d, than his u Legacy, or Farewell to the 
 People of the United States." In this admirable 
 bequest, like a true teacher sent from God, he 
 dwells chiefly on our union and brotherly love. This, 
 the first birth of true religion, appears to him as the 
 one thing needful, the spring of political life, and 
 bond of perfection. 
 
 ON this topic he employs all the energies of his 
 mind ; and, in words worthy to be written in gold, 
 emphatically beseeches his countrymen to guard 
 with holiest care " the unity of the government " as 
 the " main pillar and palladium of their liberty, their 
 independence, and every thing most dear to them on 
 earth." 
 
 LITTLE did that illustrious patriot suspect, that, 
 in so short a time after his death, the awful idea of 
 DISUNION should have become familiar to the public 
 eye ! so familiar as to have worn off half its hor 
 rors from the minds of many of our deluded citi 
 zens ! Disunion! Merciful God! what good man 
 can think of it but as of treason, and as a very Pan 
 dora s box, replete with every curse that can give up 
 our dear country to desolation and havoc ! 
 
 THIS disorganizing scheme has been three times 
 brought forward, by what Washington terms " cun 
 ning, ambitious, and unprincipled men," making use 
 of a thousand arts to shut the eyes of the citizens on 
 that yawning gulph to which they were so wickedly 
 misleading them. And each time, Lucifer-like, these 
 ministers of darkness have clothed themselves over 
 
220 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 as u angels of light" with the captivating plea of pub 
 lic good. " The disadvantages of the union I the dis 
 advantages of the union /" is their constant cry. 
 Now admitting it to be true, that this so much hated 
 union has its disadvantages, (and where is there any 
 human institution, even the noblest, that is free from 
 them ?) yet is it not the parent of blessings so many 
 and great, that no good man, as Washington savs, 
 <c can think of them without gratitude and rejoicing?" 
 and is it not equally true, that these disadvantages of 
 the union would not, in fifty years, equal the ruinous 
 consequences of a disunion, in probably half a year. 
 
 AT present,* the plea for this most horrible mea 
 sure, is the mischievous effects of the embargo. 
 Well, grant that it is mischievous, highly mischiev 
 ous and painful, for such we all feel it, yet how in 
 expressibly absurd it must be, to put the loss of trade, 
 for a year or two, in competition with the peace and 
 happiness, the independence and sovereignty of our 
 country ? Would not this be an act a thousand times 
 more mad and wicked than that of the wretched E- 
 sau, who, to remove the cravings of a momentary 
 appetite, sold his BIRTH-RIGHT for a mess of pot 
 tage ! 
 
 AT this day, through the great mercies of God, 
 we have cause to consider ourselves the happiest na 
 tion on earth. List ! oh list ! 
 
 FOR many years past the greater part of Christen 
 dom has been involved in all the horrors of the most 
 bloodyand destructive wars. Their kings and queens 
 have been rudely hurled from their thrones: and 
 the u honourable men and the princes" verifying the 
 mournful language of ancient prophecy, have been 
 seen embracing the dung-hill, or flying from their dis 
 tracted countries ; while the mass of the people, un 
 able to fly, have been crushed to the earth with tythes 
 and taxes with impressments and conscriptions 
 with forced loans and arbitrary requisitions 
 wkh martial law, administered by military judges, 
 * This was written Anno Domini 1809. 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 221 
 
 with the bayonet at the breasts of the citizens ! On 
 the other hand, during all these horrid convulsions 
 and miseries of other nations, WE, thoughtless, thank 
 less WE, have enjoyed all the blessings of peace, plen 
 ty, and security. Our persons have been free from 
 the violence of impressments and conscriptions ; and 
 our lives and property perfectly safe under the night 
 ly staves of a few old watchmen ! while other nations 
 have been over-run with devouring armies, and 
 doomed to see their houses in flames, and the gar 
 ments of their children rolled in blood, n>e, like fa 
 voured Israel, have been sitting under our vine and 
 fig-tree, none daring to make us afraid. We have beea 
 advancing in riches and strength, with a rapidity 
 unequalled in the history of man. We have been 
 progressing in arts, manufactures, and commerce to 
 an extent and success that has astonished the most 
 enlightened Europeans : and, even at this moment, 
 while suffering under the privations of the embargo, 
 we are feasted with every necessary, and enjoying 
 many of the elegancies of life. 
 
 AND yet, with so many substantial blessings in our 
 hands, with so much heaven-sent manna in our mouths, 
 like ungrateful Israel* we are mourning for lack of 
 European lu: uries (as they did for the Egyptian 
 flesh-pots,) luxuries which we once enjoyed, but are 
 now most unjustly deprived of by our brethren, the 
 nations of Europe, who are stronger than we. And 
 as if that were not a sufficient evil as if it were not 
 grievous enough to suffer such a hindrance in trade, 
 agriculture, and business of all kinds we are now 
 threatened with one, in comparison of which our pre 
 sent privations are insignificant one which of all 
 others, Washington most dreaded, and was most 
 startled at, I mean a SEPARATION OF THE STATES, 
 and consequently, civil war. 
 
 THIS dreadful consequence is as obvious as it is 
 dreadful. Yes, it is most obvious, that the separa 
 tion of the states can never take place without civil 
 U 2 
 
222 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 war. For if the states, disposed to separate, were 
 unanimous in the attempt, the general government 
 could not look idly on their apostacy, but must resist 
 it ! and to that end must call out the force of the 
 rest of the union to crush it. And here, merciful 
 God ! what scenes are rising before the eyes of hor 
 ror-struck imagination ? A whole nation suddenly 
 filled with terror ; u men s hearts failing them for 
 fear, and for looking to those things that are coming 
 on the land" the drums and instruments of war be 
 ginning to sound the warriors guns and swords 
 preparing ; not for cheerful defence of liberty and 
 country, which would make war glorious ; but for 
 the gloomy and infernal work of civil discord. Sis 
 ters, mute with grief, and looking through swelling 
 tears, on their brothers, as they gird on the hated 
 swords wives, shaking with strong fits, and, with 
 their little children, filling their houses with lamen 
 tations for husbands and fathers tearing themselves 
 away for the dismal war, whence they are to return 
 no more ! while aged parents, at parting with their 
 sons, express the deep grief only in groans ; or, 
 wringing their withered hands, with tearful eyes to 
 heaven, implore a speedy grave to put their griefs 
 to rest. 
 
 BUT all this is but the beginning of sorrows. For 
 who can paint the scenes which ensue when the two 
 armies meet ? when they meet, not in the liberal spi 
 rit of sir -anger troops, who, fighting merely for hon 
 our and pay, are ready, in the first moment of vic 
 tory, to sheath their swords, and treat the vanquish 
 ed with humanky and politeness ; but in all the bit 
 terness and exterminating spirit of a family quarrel, 
 whtre men, after numberless acts of the blackest 
 slander and of rancorous hate, having done every 
 thing to destroy each other s souls, are now com* 
 together to destroy each other s bodies. Hence, th* 
 moment the ill-fated parties meet, their fierce re 
 vengeful passions take fire: scarce can they waittha 
 trumpet s dreadful signal. Then, rushing on each 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 223 
 
 other, more like demons than men, they thrust and 
 stab, and shout and yell, in the horrid work of mu 
 tual slaughter. 
 
 AND when one of the wretched parties, nearly 
 consumed by the sword, and unable to resist any 
 longer, cry for quarters, they cry in vain. 
 
 THE furious conquerors feel not the touch of pity ; 
 but, regardless of uplifted hands and prayers, con 
 tinue their cruel blows till all is hushed in death. 
 
 THIS is the horrid fate of all civil wars. The 
 streets of ancient Rome ; the fields of Culloden ; the 
 plains of modern France ; and even the piney woods 
 of Georgia and South Carolina, strewed with man 
 gled carcases, all give awful proof, that when breth 
 ren turn their swords into each other s bowels, 
 war degenerates into murder, and battles into butch 
 eries. 
 
 NOR can even the grave set limits to their rage ; 
 but, like lions, turning from tjie mangled dead, they 
 fly for new game to the living. All those, who by 
 their wealth had most injured, or by their writings 
 had most inflamed them, are sure to be the victims 
 of their vengeance. Such persons as was the case 
 in the last war, between the whigs and tories in the 
 southern states have been dragged out of their hou 
 ses, and, amidst the screams of their wives and chil 
 dren, have been hung up on the trees, or cut to pieces 
 with swords with the most savage joy ; whrle their 
 furniture has been plundered, their houses burnt, 
 their cattle and slaves curried off, and their widows 
 and children driven out, crying, and without bread, 
 into the barren woods. 
 
 NOR does this tragedy (of a free government mad 
 ly divided and destroying itself) terminate here. 
 Even this, as Solomon says, is but their u way to hell 
 and their going down by the chambers of death" (poli 
 tical slavery*} For when nations thus wickedly 
 abuse their liberty, God will take it away* When 
 they will not live in peace, out of virtuous choice. 
 they shall be compelled bv brutak force. 
 
224 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 AND since they would not let God reign over them 
 with a golden sceptre of reason and equal laws, he 
 will set a master over them with a scourge of scor 
 pions and an iron rod : some proud tyrant, who, look 
 ing on our country but as his estate, and ourselves as 
 his cattle, shall waste our wealth on the pomps of his 
 court, or the salaries of his officers ; destroy our sons 
 in his ambitious wars ; and beggar us with exactions, 
 as long as his ministers can invent taxes, or we, by 
 hard labour, can raise money to pay them. 
 
 " Then" in the words of Washington, * what a 
 triumph for the advocates of despotism, to find that we 
 are incapable of governing ourselves; and that sys 
 tem* founded on equal liberty are. ideal and falla 
 cious . " Then, how will the proud sons of dcpotism 
 shake themselves with laughter on their thrones ; 
 and hell itself", responsive to their joy, clank her con 
 gratulating chains, that heaven is defeated, and the 
 misery of man is sealed. . 
 
 BUT, O ye favoured countrymen of Washington ! 
 your republic is not yet lost ; there is still hope. 
 The arm that wrought your political salvation, is 
 still stretched out to save ; then hear his voice and 
 live ! Hear the voice of the Divine Founder of your 
 republic: " Little children, love one another." Hear 
 his voice from the lips of his servant Washing 
 ton : " Above all things hold dear your NATIONAL 
 UNION. Accustom yourselves to estimate its im 
 mense, its infinite value to your individual and na 
 tional happiness. Look on it as the palladium of 
 your tranquillity at home ; of your peace abroad ; 
 of your safety ; of your prosperity ; and even of 
 that very liberty which you so highly prize !" To 
 this you are bound by every tie of gratitude and 
 love to God or man. 1st. As to God, no peopl 
 more than you can be bound to adore that invisible 
 hand which rules the affairs of men. Twas he 
 who fought your battles, and against such fearful 
 odds establishedyour independence ; and afterward^ 
 disposed your hearts for the reception of a general 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 225 
 
 and equal government. And for what did God 
 perform all these miracles for you, but that he might 
 glorify himself in your protection and happiness ? 
 And will you not now rise up with joy to co-operate 
 with God in the glorious work of beautifying, with 
 the fruits of righteousness, this goodly land, which 
 he has so honoured, that he may place his own great 
 name therein ? 
 
 AND remember, moreover, my countrymen, that 
 you are now the favoured actors on a most conspi 
 cuous theatre : a theatre which seems peculiarly 
 designated of Heaven for the display of human 
 greatness and felicity. Far from the furious pas 
 sions and politics of Europe, you are placed here 
 by yourselves, the sole proprietors of a vast region, 
 embracing all the soils and climates of the earth, and 
 abounding with all the conveniences of life. And 
 Heaven has crowned all its blessings by giving you 
 a freer government and a fairer opportunity for poli 
 tical happiness than any other nation was ever fa 
 voured with. In this view, citizens of the United 
 States, you are certainly responsible for the highest 
 trust ever confided to any people. The eyes of long 
 oppressed humanity are now looking up to you as to 
 her last hope ; the whole world are anxious specta 
 tors of your trial ; and with your behaviour at this 
 crisis, not only your own, but the destiny of unborn 
 millions is involved. If, now, you make a wise use 
 of the all-important opportunity if your free con 
 stitution should be sacredly maintained if honour, 
 if patriotism, if union, and brotherly love should 
 prevail, with all the good qualities which ennoble 
 the character of nations then the victory will be 
 sure : your triumph will be complete : and the pres 
 sure of the present difficulties, instead of weakening 
 will give a firmer tone to the federal government, 
 that shall probably immortalize the blessings of LI 
 BERTY to our children and children s children. 
 
226 LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 THEN rouse ! my generous countrymen, rouse ! 
 and, filled with the awfulness of our situation, with 
 the glorious spirit of 76, rally around the sacred 
 standard of your country. As good children give 
 her all your support. Respect her AUTHORITY ! 
 comply with her laws ! acquiesce in her measures ! 
 Thus cemented by love, she shall become like 
 the precious wedge of Ophir that defies the fur 
 nace ; and coming forth from the fiery trial bright 
 er than ever, she shall shed on the cause of free 
 dom, a dignity and lustre which it never enjoyed 
 before ; a lustre which cannot fail to have a favou 
 rable influence on the rights of man. Other na 
 tions, finding from your example, that men are ca 
 pable of governing themselves, will aspire to the 
 same honour and felicity. Great and successful 
 struggles will be made for liberty. Free govern 
 ments (the pure mothers of nations) will at length 
 be established. Honouring all their virtuous chil 
 dren alike, jealousies and hatreds will cease, and 
 cordial love prevail, inviting the industry of all, 
 the blessing of plenty will be spread abroad, and 
 shameless thefts be done away. And wisdom and 
 worth (as in the choice of a free people) being cal 
 led to high places, errors will be rare. Vices, asham 
 ed, shall hide their odious heads; cruelties seem ab 
 horrent, and wars unknown. Thus, step by step 
 progressing in virtue, the world will ripen for glory, 
 till the great hour ot her dissolution being come, 
 the ready archangel shall lift his trumpet, and sound 
 her knell. The last refining flames sh;;li then kin 
 dle on this tear-bathed, blood-stained globe, while 
 from its ashes a new earth shall spring, far happier 
 than the first. There, freed from all their imper 
 fections, the spirits of good men (the only true patri 
 ots) shall dwell together, and spend their ever 
 brightening days in loves andjoys eternal. 
 
 MAY the Great Founder of your ho!y repub 
 lic keep you all under his divine protection ; in 
 cline your hearts to cultivate a spirit of cheerful 
 subordination to government ; to entertain a bro- 
 
LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 227 
 
 therly affection and love for one another ; and final 
 ly dispose you all to do justice ; to love mercy ; and 
 to demean yourselves with that charity, humility, 
 and pacific temper of mind, which were the charac 
 teristics of the DIVINE AUTHOR of our blessed reli 
 gion ; without an humble imitation of whose exam 
 ple, in these things, we can never hope to be a 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 WASHINGTON S WILL. 
 
 FEW great men are great in every thing. But in 
 the last testament of this extraordinary American, 
 we see some things altogether characteristic. 
 
 WHEN Benedict Arnold came to die, he said 
 
 I bequeath my soul to God" 
 
 WHEN Henry Laurens, president of the first con 
 gress, came to die, he said, " My Jlesh is too gooa 
 for worms : I give it to the fames ;" which was done. 
 
 BUT WASHINGTON makes no preamble about his 
 soul or body. As to his soul, having made it his 
 great business to re-instamp on it the image of God, 
 he doubted not but it would be remembered, when 
 Christ should come " to makeup his jewels." 
 
 AND as to his body, that admirable piece of divine 
 mechanism, so long the honoured servant of duty to 
 his God and his country, he trusted, that, though 
 u sown in dishonour, it w r ould one day be raised in 
 glory ;" so leaving it to rest in hope, he proceeds to 
 the following distribution of his worldly goods : 
 
 1st. THOUGH an old husband of 68, yet, with the 
 gallantry and warm affection of a young groom, he 
 gives the whole of his estate (530,000 dollars) to his 
 beloved wife Martha ! during her life. 
 
 2d. LIKE a pure republican, he orders all his slaves 
 obe iberated, at certain ages, on his wife s death 
 
22S LIFE OF WASHINGTON. 
 
 lamenting, that from obstacles insurmountable, he 
 could not have done it earlier. 
 
 3d. HE confirms his former donations, viz. 400O 
 dollars to a charity school, in the town of Alexandria ; 
 10,000 dollars to Liberty-Hall Academy, Rockbridge 
 county, Virginia ; and 20,000 dollars to a national 
 university, to be founded in Washington ; with this 
 remark : u It has always been a source of serious re 
 gret with me, to see the youth of these United States 
 sent to foreign countries for education, often before 
 their minds were formed, or they had imbibed just 
 ideas of the happiness of their own ; contracting too 
 frequently, not only habits of dissipation and extra 
 vagance, but principles unfriendly to republican go- 
 oernment, and to the true and genuine liberties oj 
 mankind. 
 
 " FOR these reasons, it has been my ardent wish 
 to see a university in a central part of the union, to 
 which the youth of fortune and talents, from all parts 
 thereof, may be sent for the completion of their edu 
 cation in all the branches ot polite and useful learn 
 ing, and especially of POLITICS AND GOOD GOVERN 
 MENT ; and also that, by associating with each other, 
 and forming friendships in early life, they may be 
 enabled to free themselves from those local prejudices 
 and state jealousies, which are never-failing sources 
 of disquietude to the public mind, and pregnant 
 with mischievous consequences to this country." 
 
 4th. HAVING no children, he bequeaths the whole 
 of his estate, a few legacies excepted, to the chil 
 dren, 23 in number, of his brothers and sister ; and, 
 like a generous and affectionate relative, he gave to 
 the children of his half brother, Augustin, equally as 
 to those of his ozun brothers. And, tis a most 
 pleasing fact, he gave to his wife s grand-children in 
 like liberal \eas.ure with his own nieces and nephews ! 
 the part given , to each has been computed at 20,OOC 
 dollars. 
 
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