Life and Times of Washington, Volume 2 / Revised, Enlarged, and Enriched

by John Frederick Schroeder; Benson John Lossing

"EDWARD LIVINGSTON."

On receiving this letter, young Lafayette wrote to Washington, enclosing the resolution and the letter of Mr. Livingston, and asking his advice relative to the course which he should pursue. The following is Washington's answer:

"Your letter of the 28th instant was received yesterday. The enclosures which accompanied it evidence much discretion, and your conduct therein meets my entire approbation.

"In the early part of this month I put a letter into the hands of Colonel Hamilton, inviting you to this place, and expected, until your letter of the above date was received, to have embraced you under my own roof tomorrow or next day.

"As the period for this seems to be more distant, from the purport of your inquiries, I again repeat my former request, and wish that, without delay, you and M. Frestel would proceed immediately to this city and to my house, where a room is prepared for you and him.

"Under expectation of your doing this, it is as unnecessary as it might be improper to go more into detail until I have the pleasure of seeing you and of rendering every service in my power to the son of my friend, for whom I have always entertained the purest affection, which is too strong not to extend itself to you. Therefore believe me to be, as I really am, sincerely and affectionately yours, &c."

From this time (March, 1796) to April, 1797, when he journeyed with Washington to Mount Vernon, young Lafayette resided with him in Philadelphia. Writing to General Dumas (June 24, 1797) from Mount Vernon, Washington, after expressing an ardent wish for the restoration of General Lafayette to liberty, says: "His son and M. Frestel, who appears to have been his mentor, are, and have been, residents in my family since their arrival in this country, except in the first moments of it; and a modest, sensible, well-disposed youth he is."

In October, 1797, intelligence of the liberation of General Lafayette from his Austrian prison having been received, his son hastened to meet him in France. He sailed with M. Frestel from New York, on the 26th of October, bearing the following letter from Washington to his father: {2}

"This letter, I hope and expect, will be presented to you by your son, who is highly deserving of such parents as you and your amiable lady.

"He can relate much better than I can describe my participation in your sufferings, my solicitude for your relief, the measures I adopted, though ineffectual, to facilitate your liberation from an unjust and cruel imprisonment, and the joy I experienced at the news of its accomplishment. I shall hasten, therefore, to congratulate you, and be assured that no one can do it with more cordiality, with more sincerity, or with greater affection, on the restoration of that liberty which every act of your life entitles you to the enjoyment of; and I hope I may add, to the uninterrupted possession of your estates and the confidence of your country. The repossession of these things, though they cannot compensate for the hardships you have endured, may nevertheless soften the painful remembrance of them.

"From the delicate and responsible situation in which I stood as a public officer, but more especially from a misconception of the manner in which your son had left France, till explained to me in a personal interview with himself, he did not come immediately into my family on his arrival in America, though he was assured in the first moments of it of my protection and support. His conduct, since he first set his feet on American ground, has been exemplary in every point of view, such as has gained him the esteem, affection, and confidence of all who have had the pleasure of his acquaintance. His filial affection and duty and his ardent desire to embrace his parents and sisters, in the first moments of their release, would not allow him to wait the authentic account of this much-desired event; but, at the same time that I suggested the propriety of this, I could not withhold my assent to the gratification of his wishes to fly to the arms of those whom he holds most dear, persuaded as he is, from the information he has received, that he shall find you all in Paris.

"M. Frestel has been a true mentor to George. No parent could have been more attentive to a favorite son, and he richly merits all that can be said of his virtues, of his good sense, and of his prudence. Both your son and he carry with them the vows and regrets of this family and all who know them. And you may be assured that yourself never stood higher in the affections of the people of this country than at the present moment.

"Having bid a final adieu to the walks of public life, and meaning to withdraw myself from politics, I shall refer you to M. Frestel and George, who, at the same time that they have, from prudential considerations, avoided all interference in the politics of the country, cannot have been inattentive observers of what was passing among us, to give you a general view of our situation, and of the party which, in my opinion, has disturbed the peace and tranquility of it. And with sentiments of the highest regard for you, your lady, and daughters, and with assurances that, if inclination or events should induce you or any of them to visit America, no person in it would receive you with more cordiality and affection than Mrs. Washington and myself, both of us being most sincerely and affectionately attached to you, and admirers of them."

Devoted as Washington, in his retirement, was to his favorite pursuit of agriculture, he nevertheless took a lively interest in the political affairs of the country. In the events which were now passing he found cause for considerable anxiety. The conduct of the French Directory still indicated a persistence in their favorite policy of detaching the people of the United States from the support of the executive, and effecting a revolution in the government. Their treatment of General Pinckney, the minister sent to France by Washington, fully disclosed their views and intentions. After inspecting General Pinckney's letter of credence, the Directory announced to him their determination "not to receive another minister plenipotentiary from the United States until after the redress of grievances demanded of the American government, which the French republic had a right to expect from it." This message was succeeded, first by indecorous verbal communications, calculated to force the American minister out of France, and afterward, by a written mandate to quit the territories of the republic.

This act of hostility was accompanied with another, which would explain the motives for this conduct, if previous measures had not rendered all further explanation unnecessary.

On giving to the recalled minister his audience of leave, the President of the Directory addressed a speech to him, in which terms of outrage to the government were mingled with expressions of affection for the people of the United States, and the expectation of ruling the former, by their influence over the latter, was too clearly manifested not to be understood. To complete this system of hostility, American vessels were captured wherever found, and, under the pretext of their wanting a document, with which the treaty of commerce had been uniformly understood to dispense, they were condemned as prize.

This serious state of things demanded a solemn consideration. On receiving from General Pinckney the dispatches which communicated it, President Adams issued his proclamation requiring Congress to meet on the 15th day of May. The speech delivered by him at the commencement of the session showed that the insults of the French Directory were deeply resented. He said: "The speech of the President discloses sentiments more alarming than the refusal of a minister, because more dangerous to our independence and union, and, at the same time, studiously marked with indignities toward the government of the United States. It evinces a disposition to separate the people from their government; to persuade them that they have different affections, principles, and interests from those of their fellow-citizens whom they themselves have chosen to manage their common concerns; and thus to produce divisions fatal to our peace. Such attempts ought to be repelled with a decision which shall convince France, and the world, that we are not a degraded people, humiliated under a colonial spirit of fear and sense of inferiority, fitted to be the miserable instruments of foreign influence, and regardless of national honor, character, and interest. Retaining still the desire which had uniformly been manifested by the American government to preserve peace and friendship with all nations, and believing that neither the honor nor the interest of the United States absolutely forbade the repetition of advances for securing these desirable objects with France, he should," he said, "institute a fresh attempt at negotiation, and should not fail to promote and accelerate an accommodation on terms compatible with the rights, duties, interests, and honor of the nation." But while he should be making these endeavors to adjust all differences with the French republic by amicable negotiation, he earnestly recommended it to Congress to provide effectual measures of defense.

The drawing up an answer to this speech of President Adams occasioned a full fortnight's debate in the House of Representatives, but at length a reply, correspondent to the President's tone and views, was carried by 51 or 52 voices against 48. This showed the balance of parties, proved that Adams still kept the ascendency, however small, that Washington had done, and that the dread of democratic violence prevailed over the suspicions endeavored to be awakened of monarchism and an arbitrary executive. This feeling was, no doubt, strengthened greatly by refugees from St. Domingo, who related the dire effects which democratic acts had produced in that island. France, however, was never more formidable. Tidings of her victories poured in, whilst those of England told of bank payments suspended, a mutiny in the fleet, and the abandonment of her best continental ally.

To carry into effect the pacific dispositions avowed by President Adams in his speech, he appointed three envoys to the French Directory. General Pinckney, who was still residing in Europe, was placed at the head of the mission. Gen. John Marshall, afterward chief justice, a sturdy Federalist, and Elbridge Gerry, an anti-Federalist, but a strong personal friend and favorite of the President, were joined with Pinckney in the mission. They were instructed to endeavor to procure peace and reconciliation by all means compatible with the honor and faith of the United States, but no national engagements were to be impaired, no innovation to be permitted upon those internal regulations for the preservation of peace which had been deliberately and uprightly established, nor were the rights of the government to be surrendered. On their arrival in France the envoys saw M. Talleyrand, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, but were informed that they could not be received by the Directory. They had permission to remain in Paris, however, and the agents of M. de Talleyrand—a female amongst others were employed to negotiate with them. The true difficulty in the way of accommodation, in addition to the impertinent arrogance of the Directory, seemed to be that Merlin and others received a great part of the gains accruing from American prizes made by the French. In order to counteract this gold in one hand by gold in the other, Talleyrand demanded a douceur of £50,000 for himself and chiefs, besides a loan to be afterward made from America to France. To extract these conditions, every argument that meanness could suggest was employed by Talleyrand; he demanded to be fed as a lawyer or bribed as a friend. But the Americans were inexorable, and two of their number, Pinckney and Marshall, returned to announce to their countrymen the terms on which peace was offered. The cupidity of the French government completely turned against it the tide of popular feeling in America. "Millions for defense, not a cent for tribute," was instantly the general cry. The President felt his hands strengthened by the demands of the French. Certainly, never did minister show himself less sagacious than M. de Talleyrand in this affair, or more ignorant of the spirit and manners of a nation amongst whom he had resided.

In Congress (May, 1798), vigorous measures were adopted for placing the country in a state of defense against impending hostilities from one of the most powerful nations of the world. Among these was a regular army. A regiment of artillerists and engineers was added to the permanent establishment, and the President was authorized to raise twelve additional regiments of infantry and one regiment of cavalry to serve during the continuance of the existing differences with the French republic, if not sooner discharged. He was also authorized to appoint officers for a provisional army and to receive and organize volunteer corps who should be exempt from ordinary militia duty, but neither the volunteers nor the officers of the provisional army were to receive pay unless called into actual service.

Addresses to the executive from every part of the United States attested the high spirit of the nation, and the answers of President Adams were well calculated to give it solidity and duration.

No sooner had a war become probable, to the perils of which no man could be insensible, than the eyes of all were directed to Washington, as the person who should command the American army. He alone could be seen at the head of a great military force without exciting jealousy; he alone could draw into public service and arrange properly the best military talents of the nation, and he, more than any other, could induce the utmost exertion of its physical strength. Indignant at the unprovoked injuries which had been heaped upon his country, and convinced that the conflict, should a war be really prosecuted by France with a view to conquest, would be extremely severe and could be supported, on the part of America, only by a persevering exertion of all her force, he could not determine, should such a crisis arrive, to withhold those aids which it might be in his power to afford, should public opinion really attach to his services that importance which would render them essential. His own reflections appear to have resulted in a determination not to refuse once more to take the field, provided he could be permitted to secure efficient aid by naming the chief officers of the army, and to remain at home until his service in the field should be required by actual invasion. {3}

A confidential and interesting letter from Colonel Hamilton of the 19th of May, on political subjects, concludes with saying: "You ought also to be aware, my dear sir, that in the event of an open rupture with France the public voice will again call you to command the armies of your country, and though all who are attached to you will, from attachment as well as public consideration, deplore an occasion which should once more tear you from that repose to which you have so good a right, yet it is the opinion of all those with whom I converse that you will be compelled to make the sacrifice. All your past labors may demand, to give them efficacy, this further, this very great sacrifice."

"You may be assured," said Washington in reply, "that my mind is deeply impressed with the present situation of public affairs and not a little agitated by the outrageous conduct of France toward the United States, and at the inimitable conduct of those partisans who aid and abet her measures. You may believe further, from assurances equally sincere, that if there was anything in my power to be done consistently to avert or lessen the danger of the crisis, it should be rendered with hand and heart."

"But, my dear sir, dark as matters appear at present, and expedient as it is to be prepared for the worst that can happen (and no man is more disposed to this measure than I am), I cannot make up my mind yet for the expectation of open war; or, in other words, for a formidable invasion by France. I cannot believe, although I think her capable of anything, that she will attempt to do more than she has done. When she perceives the spirit and policy of this country rising into resistance, and that she has falsely calculated upon support from a large part of the people to promote her views and influence in it, she will desist ever from those practices, unless unexpected events in Europe or the acquisition of Louisiana and the Floridas should induce her to continue them. And I believe further, that, although the leaders of their party in this country will not change their sentiments, they will be obliged to change their plan or the mode of carrying it on. The effervescence which is appearing in all quarters, and the desertion of their followers, will frown them into silence—at least for a while.

"If I did not view things in this light my mind would be infinitely more disquieted than it is, for, if a crisis should arrive when a sense of duty or a call from my country should become so imperious as to leave me no choice, I should prepare for relinquishment and go with as much reluctance from my present peaceful abode as I should go to the tombs of my ancestors."

The opinion that prudence required preparations for open war and that Washington must once more be placed at the head of the American armies strengthened every day, and on the 22d of June President Adams addressed him a letter in which that subject was thus alluded to.

"In forming an army, whenever I must come to that extremity I am at an immense loss whether to call out the old generals or to appoint a young set. If the French come here we must learn to march with a quick step and to attack, for in that way only they are said to be vulnerable. I must tax you sometimes for advice. We must have your name, if you will in any case permit us to use it. There will be more efficacy in it than in many an army."

A letter from McHenry, the Secretary of War, written four days afterward, concludes with asking: "May we flatter ourselves that, in a crisis so awful and important you will accept the command of all our armies? I hope you will, because you alone can unite all hearts and all hands, if it is possible that they can be united."

These letters reached Washington on the same day. The following extract from his reply to the President will exhibit the course of his reflections relative to his appearance once more at the head of the American armies:

"At the epoch of my retirement an invasion of these States by an European power, or even the probability of such an event in my days, was so far from being contemplated by me that I had no conception either that or any other occurrence would arise in so short a period which could turn my eyes from the shades of Mount Vernon. But this seems to be the age of wonders. And it is reserved for intoxicated and lawless France (for purposes of Providence far beyond the reach of human ken) to slaughter her own citizens and to disturb the repose of all the world besides. From a view of the past—from the prospect of the present—and of that which seems to be expected, it is not easy for me to decide satisfactorily on the part it might best become me to act. In case of actual invasion by a formidable force I certainly should not entrench myself under the cover of age and retirement, if my services should be required by my country to assist in repelling it. And if there be good cause to expect such an event, which certainly must be better known to the government than to private citizens, delay in preparing for it may be dangerous, improper, and not to be justified by prudence. The uncertainty, however, of the latter, in my mind, creates my embarrassment, for I cannot bring it to believe, regardless as the French are of treaties and of the laws of nation, and capable as I conceive them to be of any species of despotism and injustice, that they will attempt to invade this country after such a uniform and unequivocal expression of the determination of the people in all parts to oppose them with their lives and fortunes. That they have been led to believe by their agents and partisans among us that we are a divided people, that the latter are opposed to their own government, and that the show of a small force would occasion a revolt, I have no doubt; and how far these men (grown desperate) will further attempt to deceive, and may succeed in keeping up the deception, is problematical. Without that, the folly of the Directory in such an attempt would, I conceive, be more conspicuous, if possible, than their wickedness."

"Having with candor made this disclosure of the state of my mind, it remains only for me to add that to those who know me best it is best known that, should imperious circumstances induce me to exchange once more the smooth paths of retirement for the thorny ways of public life, at a period too when repose is more congenial to nature, it would be productive of sensations which can be more easily conceived than expressed."

His letter to the Secretary of War was more detailed and more explicit. "It cannot," he said, "be necessary for me to premise to you or to others who know my sentiments; that to quit the tranquility of retirement, and enter the boundless field of responsibility, would be productive of sensations which a better pen than I possess would find it difficult to describe. Nevertheless, the principle by which my conduct has been actuated through life would not suffer me, in any great emergency, to withhold any services I could render when required by my country—especially in a case where its dearest rights are assailed by lawless ambition and intoxicated power, in contempt of every principle of justice, and in violation of a solemn compact and of laws which govern all civilized nations—and this too with the obvious intent to sow thick the seeds of disunion for the purpose of subjugating our government and destroying our independence and happiness.

"Under circumstances like these, accompanied by an actual invasion of our territory, it would be difficult for me, at any time, to remain an idle spectator, under the plea of age or retirement. With sorrow, it is true, I should quit the shades of my peaceful abode, and the ease and happiness I now enjoy, to encounter anew the turmoils of war, to which, possibly, my strength and powers might be found incompetent. These, however, should not be stumbling-blocks in my own way. But there are other things highly important for me to ascertain and settle before I could give a definitive answer to your question:

"1st. The propriety in the opinion of the public, so far as that opinion has been expressed in conversation, of my appearing again on the public theater after declaring the sentiments I did in my valedictory address of September, 1796.

"2dly. A conviction in my own breast, from the best information that can be obtained, that it is the wish of my country that its military force should be committed to my charge; and,

"3dly. That the army now to be formed should be so appointed as to afford a well-grounded hope of its doing honor to the country and credit to him who commands it in the field.

"On each of these heads you must allow me to make observations." Washington then proceeded to detail his sentiments on those points on which his consent to take command of the army must depend.

Some casual circumstances delayed the reception of the letters of the President and Secretary of War for several days, in consequence of which, before the answer of Washington reached the seat of government, the President had nominated him to the chief command of all the armies raised or to be raised in the United States, with the rank of lieutenant-general; and the Senate had unanimously advised and consented to his appointment.

By the Secretary of War, who was directed to wait upon him with his commission, the President addressed to him the following letter:

"Mr. McHenry, the Secretary of War, will have the honor to wait on you in my behalf, to impart to you a step I have ventured to take, which I should have been happy to have communicated in person, had such a journey at this time been in my power."

"My reasons for this measure will be too well known to need any explanation to the public. Every friend and every enemy of America will comprehend them at first blush. To you, sir, I owe all the apology I can make. The urgent necessity I am in of your advice and assistance, indeed of your conduct and direction of the war, is all I can urge; and that is a sufficient justification to myself and to the world. I hope it will be so considered by yourself. Mr. McHenry will have the honor to consult you upon the organization of the army, and upon everything relating to it."

Open instructions, signed by the President, were on the same day delivered to the Secretary of War, of which the following is a copy:

"It is my desire that you embrace the first opportunity to set out on your journey to Mount Vernon and wait on General Washington with the commission of lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States, which, by the advice and consent of the Senate, has been signed by me.

"The reasons and motives which prevailed on me to venture on such a step as the nomination of this great and illustrious character, whose voluntary resignation alone occasioned my introduction to the office I now hold, were too numerous to be detailed in this letter, and are too obvious and important to escape the observation of any part of America or Europe. But as it is a movement of great delicacy it will require all your address to communicate the subject in a manner that shall be inoffensive to his feelings and consistent with all the respect that is due from me to him.

"If the general should decline the appointment all the world will be silent and respectfully acquiesce. If he should accept it all the world, except the enemies of his country, will rejoice. If he should come to no decisive determination, but take the subject into consideration, I shall not appoint any other lieutenant-general until his conclusion is known.

"His advice in the formation of a list of officers would be extremely desirable to me. The names of Lincoln, Morgan, Knox, Hamilton, Gates, Pinckney, Lee, Carrington, Hand, Muhlenberg, Dayton, Burr, Brooks, Cobb, Smith, as well as the present commander-in-chief, may be mentioned to him, and any others that occur to you. Particularly, I wish to have his opinion on the men most suitable for inspector-general, adjutant-general, and quartermaster-general.

"His opinion on all subjects would have great weight, and I wish you to obtain from him as much of his reflections upon the times and the service as you can."

The communications between Washington and the Secretary of War appear to have been full and unreserved. The impressions of the former respecting the critical and perilous situation of his country had previously determined him to yield to the general desire and accept the commission offered him, provided he could be permitted to select for the high departments of the army, and especially for the military staff, those in whom he could place the greatest confidence. Being assured that there was every reason to believe his wishes in this respect would not be thwarted, he gave to the secretary the arrangement which he would recommend for the principal stations in the army, and on the 13th of July addressed the following letter to the President:

"I had the honor, on the evening of the 11th instant, to receive from the hands of the Secretary at War your favor of the 7th, announcing that you had, with the advice and consent of the Senate, appointed me lieutenant-general and commander-in-chief of the armies raised or to be raised for the service of the United States."

"I cannot express how greatly affected I am at this new proof of public confidence, and at the highly flattering manner in which you have been pleased to make the communication. At the same time I must not conceal from you my earnest wish that the choice had fallen upon a man less declined in years and better qualified to encounter the usual vicissitudes of war."

"You know, sir, what calculations I had made relative to the probable course of events on my retiring from office and the determination with which I had consoled myself of closing the remnant of my days in my present peaceful abode. You will, therefore, be at no loss to conceive and appreciate the sensations I must have experienced to bring my mind to any conclusion that would pledge me at so late a period of life to leave scenes I sincerely love to enter upon the boundless field of public action, incessant trouble, and high responsibility.

"It was not possible for me to remain ignorant of or indifferent to recent transactions. The conduct of the Directory of France toward our country; their insidious hostility to its government; their various practices to withdraw the affections of the people from it; the evident tendency of their arts, and those of their agents to countenance and invigorate opposition; their disregard of solemn treaties and the laws of nations; their war upon our defenseless commerce; their treatment of our ministers of peace, and their demands, amounting to tribute, could not fail to excite in me sentiments corresponding with those my countrymen have so generally expressed in their affectionate addresses to you.

"Believe me, sir, no man can more cordially approve the wise and prudent measures of your administration. They ought to inspire universal confidence, and will no doubt, combined with the state of things, call from Congress such laws and means as will enable you to meet the full force and extent of the crisis. Satisfied, therefore, that you have sincerely wished and endeavored to avert war, and exhausted to the last drop the cup of reconciliation, we can, with pure hearts, appeal to Heaven for the justice of our cause, and may confidently trust the final result to that kind Providence who has heretofore and then so often signally favored the people of the United States.

"Thinking in this manner and feeling how incumbent it is upon every person of every description to contribute at all times to his country's welfare, and especially in a moment like the present, when everything we hold dear and sacred is so seriously threatened, I have finally determined to accept the commission of commander-in-chief of the armies of the United States, with the reserve only that I shall not be called into the field until the army is in a situation to require my presence or it becomes indispensable by the urgency of circumstances.

"In making this reservation, I beg it to be understood that I do not mean to withhold any assistance to arrange and organize the army, which you may think I can afford. I take the liberty also to mention that I must decline having my acceptance considered as drawing after it any immediate charge upon the public, or that I can receive any emoluments annexed to the appointment before I am in a situation to incur expense."

From this period Washington intermingled the cares and attentions of office with his agricultural pursuits. His solicitude respecting the organization of an army which he might possibly be required to lead against an enemy the most formidable in the world, was too strong to admit of his being inattentive to its arrangements.

Having stipulated, in accepting office, that he should have a concurrent voice in the appointment of the general officers and general staff of the army, he named Alexander Hamilton as inspector-general and second in command, with Charles Cotesworth Pinckney and Henry Knox as major-generals. Adams, who particularly disliked Hamilton, and was very suspicious of his designs and purposes, especially if placed in any position of power and influence, was not at all pleased with this arrangement; but he unwillingly acquiesced. General Knox was dissatisfied with the rank assigned him, and refused to serve; General Pinckney, on the other hand, accepted the post offered him.

During the months of November and December (1798), Washington was at Philadelphia, where he was busily occupied, with Hamilton and Pinckney, in concerting arrangements for raising and organizing the army. From this time to the end of his life a great part of his time was bestowed upon military affairs.

"His correspondence with the Secretary of War, the major-generals, and other officers," as Mr. Sparks states, "was unremitted and very full, entering into details and communicating instructions which derived value from his long experience and perfect knowledge of the subject. His letters during this period, if not the most interesting to many readers, will be regarded as models of their kind, and as affording evidence that the vigor and fertility of his mind had not decreased with declining years.

"He never seriously believed that the French would go to the extremity of invading the United States. But it had always been a maxim with him, that a timely preparation for war afforded the surest means for preserving peace, and on this occasion he acted with as much promptitude and energy as if the invaders had been actually on the coast. His opinion proved to be correct, and his prediction was verified." For the French government, when it was found that the people would support the executive in resisting aggressions, soon manifested a disposition to draw back from their war-like attitude, since war with the United States was the last thing which was really desired.

While Washington was engaged in organizing the army actual hostilities between the United States and France were going on at sea. A navy department was formed by act of Congress in April (1798), and on May 21st Benjamin Stoddert, of Maryland, became the first Secretary of the Navy. The frigates United States, 44, and Constellation, 38, were launched and fitted for sea in the summer and autumn succeeding; and the whole force authorized by a law passed on the 16th of July, consisted of twelve frigates, twelve ships of a force between twenty and twenty-four guns inclusive, and six sloops, besides galleys and revenue cutters, making a total of thirty active cruisers. Numerous privateers were also fitted out. The chief theater of naval operations was the archipelago of the West Indies, where the aggressions on our commerce by French cruisers and privateers had originally commenced. Of the numerous encounters which took place, two remarkable ones afforded a promise of the future glories of the American navy. One of these was a very severe action (February, 1799) between the American frigate Constellation, of thirty-eight guns, commanded by Commodore Truxton, and the French frigate l'Insurgente, of forty guns, which terminated in the capture of the latter. Truxton, in a subsequent engagement, compelled another French frigate, the Vengeance, mounting no less than fifty-two guns, to strike her colors, but she afterward made her escape in the night.

The determined attitude of the United States soon convinced the French Directory that the people were united in support of the administration in its hostile operations, and Talleyrand sent certain intimations to our government, through William Vans Murray, American minister at the Hague, as well as by more private channels, that the Directory were willing and desirous to treat for peace. President Adams determined to avail himself of these friendly dispositions, and, without consulting his Cabinet or the leading members of Congress, on the 18th of February (1799) nominated to the Senate Mr. Murray as minister plenipotentiary to the French republic. Patrick Henry and Chief Justice Oliver Ellsworth were subsequently appointed joint ambassadors, but the latter declining on account of ill health, Gen. William Richardson Davie, Governor of North Carolina, was appointed in his place. Ellsworth and Davie did not leave the country, however, till November. The peace which terminated the quasi war with France was negotiated by these envoys, but it did not take place till the 3d of September, 1800, when Napoleon was at the head of affairs in France, as First Consul, and after the death of Washington.

We have seen that when Washington retired from the office of President, he had promised himself a season of leisure and repose before closing his useful and honorable life. But this the course of events did not permit. His last days were destined to be fully occupied with public affairs.

During the years 1798 and 1799 he was engaged in a most voluminous correspondence with the President, the heads of departments, and the officers of the provisional army, in relation to military affairs, and in addition to this his published letters show that he had to keep up a correspondence with many public men, both in Europe and America, as well as with his own connections and dependants.

This correspondence and the arrangement of his papers added to the writing occasioned by his accounts and the army affairs, made it necessary for him to have assistance, and he accordingly wrote to his old secretary, Mr. Tobias Lear, with a view to engaging him in the same office again (August 2, 1798). An extract from his letter to Mr. Lear shows how his writing labors had increased.

"The little leisure I had," he writes, "before my late appointment (from visits, my necessary rides, and other occurrences), to overhaul, arrange, and separate papers of real from those of little or no value, is now, by that event, so much encroached upon by personal and written applications for offices, and other matters incidental to the commander-in-chief, that, without assistance, I must abandon all idea of accomplishing this necessary work before I embark in new scenes, which will render them more voluminous, and, of course, more difficult; a measure which would be extremely irksome to me to submit to, especially as it respects my accounts, which are yet in confusion; my earnest wish and desire being, when I quit the stage of human action, to leave all matters in such a situation as to give as little trouble as possible to those who will have the management of them hereafter.

"Under this view of my situation, which is far from being an agreeable one, and at times fills me with deep concern when I see so little prospect of complete extrication, I have written to the Secretary of War to be informed whether—as my taking the field is contingent, and no pay or emolument will accrue to myself until then—I am at liberty to appoint my secretary immediately, who shall be allowed his pay and forage from the moment he joins me. If he answers in the affirmative, can you do this on these terms?"

Mr. Lear accepted the appointment of secretary, proceeded immediately to Mount Vernon, and remained with Washington till his decease.

With the aid of Mr. Lear, who was thoroughly conversant with his papers and accustomed to his methods of transacting business, he was enabled to keep up his old habit of riding over the estate, and superintending its culture, during the early hours of the day. "When he returned from his morning ride," which, he remarks in a letter to Mr. McHenry, "usually occupied him till it was time to dress for dinner," he generally found some newly arrived guests, perfect strangers to him, come, as they said, out of respect to him. They were always received courteously, but their number and their constant succession must have made serious inroads on the domestic quiet in which he so much delighted. "How different this," he says in the same letter, "from having a few social friends at a cheerful board."

During the last two years of his life his domestic circle was small. Mrs. Washington, Miss Custis, and some others of his adopted children, and his old friend, Mr. Lear, were at Mount Vernon; and some of his visitors were such as he himself would have chosen. But the greater part of them were comparative strangers.

Distinguished persons sometimes came from Europe to visit him, and these were received with his usual hospitality. When they sought to draw him into conversation about his own actions, he changed the subject and made inquiries about Europe and its affairs. In his own house, although maintaining toward strangers great courtesy and amenity, he always avoided discussing on matters in which he himself had played the most conspicuous part. At home he was the plain, modest country gentleman he had been before the destinies of an army and an empire had been placed in his hands.

1. Footnote: M. de Lacolombe had been adjutant-general under Lafayette, when the latter commanded the National Guard.

2. Footnote: Sparks, "Writings of Washington."

3. Footnote: Marshall.

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CHAPTER XIII. — LAST ILLNESS, DEATH, AND CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON. 1799.

On Thursday, December 12, 1799, Washington rode out to superintend as usual the affairs of his estate. He left the house at 10 o'clock in the morning and did not return till 3 o'clock in the afternoon. Soon after he went out the weather became very inclement, rain, hail, and snow falling alternately, with a cold wind. When he came in his secretary and superintendent, Mr. Lear, handed him some letters to frank, but he declined sending them to the post-office that evening, remarking that the weather was too bad to send a servant with them. On Mr. Lear's observing that he was afraid he had got wet, he said, No, his great coat had kept him dry. Still his neck was wet and snow was hanging on his hair. But he made light of it, and sat down to dinner without changing his dress. In the evening he appeared as well as usual. {1}

A heavy snowstorm on Friday prevented his riding out on the estate as usual. He had taken cold the day before by his long exposure, and he complained of a sore throat. This, however, did not prevent his going out in the afternoon to mark some trees not far from the house, which were to be cut down. He had now a hoarseness, which increased toward the close of the day. He spent the evening in the parlor with Mrs. Washington and Mr. Lear, perusing the newspapers, occasionally reading an interesting article aloud as well as his hoarseness would permit, and cheerful as usual. On his retiring, Mr. Lear proposed that he should take some remedy for his cold, but he answered "No, you know I never take anything for a cold. Let it go as it came."

Between 2 and 3 o'clock on Saturday morning he had an ague fit, but would not permit the family to be disturbed in their rest till daylight. He breathed with great difficulty and was hardly able to utter a word intelligibly. At his desire he was bled by Mr. Rawlins, one of the overseers. An attempt to take a simple remedy for a cold showed that he could not swallow a drop, but seemed convulsed and almost suffocated in his efforts. Dr. Craik, the family physician, was sent for and arrived about 9 o'clock, who put a blister on his throat, took some more blood from him and ordered a gargle of vinegar and sage tea, and inhalation of the fumes of vinegar and hot water. Two consulting physicians, Dr. Brown and Dr. Dick, were called in, who arrived about 3 o'clock, and after a consultation he was bled a third time. The patient could now swallow a little, and calomel and tartar emetic were administered without any effect.

About half past 4 o'clock he desired Mr. Lear to call Mrs. Washington to his bedside; when he requested her to bring from his desk two wills, and on receiving them, he gave her one, which he observed was useless as being superseded by the other, and desired her to burn it, which she did, and put the other into her closet.

"After this was done," says Mr. Lear, in concluding his touching narrative, "I returned to his bedside and took his hand. He said to me: 'I find I am going. My breath cannot last long. I believed from the first that the disorder would prove fatal. Do you arrange and record all my late military letters and papers. Arrange my accounts and settle my books, as you know more about them than anyone else, and let Mr. Rawlins finish recording my other letters, which he has begun.' I told him this should be done. He then asked if I recollected anything which it was essential for him to do, as he had but a very short time to continue with us. I told him that I could recollect nothing which it was essential for him to do, but that I hoped he was not so near his end. He observed, smiling, that he certainly was, and that, as it was the debt we must all pay, he looked to the event with perfect resignation.

"In the course of the afternoon he appeared to be in great pain and distress, from the difficulty of breathing, and frequently changed his posture in the bed. On these occasions I lay upon the bed and endeavored to raise him and turn him with as much ease as possible. He appeared penetrated with gratitude for my attentions, and often said, 'I am afraid I shall fatigue you too much,' and upon assuring him that I could feel nothing but a wish to give him ease, he replied, 'Well, it is a debt we must pay to each other, and I hope when you want aid of this kind you will find it.'

"About 5 o'clock Dr. Craik came again into the room, and, upon going to the bedside, the general said to him, 'Doctor, I die hard, but I am not afraid to go. I believed, from my first attack, that I should not survive it. My breath cannot last long.' The doctor pressed his hand, but could not utter a word. He retired from the bedside and sat by the fire, absorbed in grief.

"Between 5 and 6 o'clock Dr. Craik, Dr. Dick, and Dr. Brown came again into the room, and with Dr. Craik went to the bed, when Dr. Craik asked him if he could sit up in the bed. He held out his hand and I raised him up. He then said to the physicians, 'I feel myself going; I thank you for your attentions, but I pray you to take no more trouble about me. Let me go off quietly. I cannot last long.' They found that all which had been done was without effect. He lay down again, and all retired except Dr. Craik. He continued in the same situation, uneasy and restless, but without complaining, frequently asking what hour it was. When I helped him to move at this time he did not speak, but looked at me with strong expressions of gratitude.

"About 8 o'clock the physicians came again into the room and applied blisters and cataplasms of wheat bran to his legs and feet, after which they went out, except Dr. Craik, without a ray of hope. I went out about this time and wrote a line to Mr. Law and Mr. Peter, requesting them to come with their wives (Mrs. Washington's granddaughters) as soon as possible to Mount Vernon.

"About 10 o'clock he made several attempts to speak to me before he could effect it. At length he said, 'I am just going. Have me decently buried, and do not let my body be put into the vault in less than three days after I am dead.' I bowed assent, for I could not speak. He then looked at me again and said, 'Do you understand me?' I replied, 'Yes.' 'Tis well,' said he.

"About ten minutes before he expired (which was between 10 and 11 o'clock) his breathing became easier. He lay quietly; he withdrew his hand from mine and felt his own pulse. I saw his countenance change. I spoke to Dr. Craik, who sat by the fire. He came to the bedside. The general's hand fell from his wrist. I took it in mine and pressed it to my bosom. Dr. Craik put his hands over his eyes, and he expired without a struggle or a sigh (December 14, 1799).

"While we were fixed in silent grief, Mrs. Washington, who was sitting at the foot of the bed, asked, with a firm and collected voice, 'Is he gone?' I could not speak, but held up my hand as a signal that he was no more. 'Tis well,' said she, in the same voice, 'all is over now. I shall soon follow him. I have no more trials to pass through.'

"During his whole illness," adds Mr. Lear, "he spoke but seldom, and with great difficulty and distress, and in so low and broken a voice as at times hardly to be understood. His patience, fortitude, and resignation never forsook him for a moment. In all his distress he uttered not a sigh nor a complaint, always endeavoring, from a sense of duty, as it appeared, to take what was offered him and to do as he was desired by the physicians."

By this simple and touching record of the last moments of Washington, it will be perceived that his conduct, in the last trying scene, was in all respects consistent with his whole life and character. His habitual serenity and self-command, and the ever-present sense of duty, are apparent through the whole. He died as he had lived, a hero in the highest sense of the word and a true Christian.

The deep and wide-spreading grief occasioned by this melancholy event assembled a great concourse of people for the purpose of paying the last tribute of respect to the first of Americans, and on Wednesday, the 18th of December, his body, attended by military honors, and with religious and Masonic ceremonies, was deposited in the family vault on his estate.

In December, 1837, the remains of the great father of our nation, after a slumber of thirty-eight years, were again exposed by the circumstance of placing his body once and forever within the marble sarcophagus made by Mr. Struthers, of Philadelphia. The body, as Mr. Struthers related, was still in a wonderful state of preservation, the high pale brow wore a calm and serene expression, and the lips, pressed together, had a grave and solemn smile.

When intelligence reached Congress of the death of Washington, they instantly adjourned until the next day, when John Marshall, then a member of the House of Representatives and afterward chief justice of the United States and biographer of Washington, addressed the speaker in the following words:

"The melancholy event which was yesterday announced with doubt has been rendered but too certain. Our Washington is no more. The hero, the patriot, and the sage of America; the man on whom, in times of danger, every eye was turned, and all hopes were placed, lives now only in his own great actions and in the hearts of an affectionate and afflicted people.

"If, sir, it had even not been usual openly to testify respect for the memory of those whom Heaven has selected as its instruments for dispensing good to man, yet such has been the uncommon worth and such the extraordinary incidents which have marked the life of him whose loss we all deplore, that the whole American nation, impelled by the same feelings, would call with one voice for a public manifestation of that sorrow, which is so deep and so universal.

"More than any other individual, and as much as to any one individual was possible, has he contributed to found this, our wide-spreading empire, and to give to the western world independence and freedom.

"Having effected the great object for which he was placed at the head of our armies, we have seen him convert the sword into the ploughshare and sink the soldier into the citizen.

"When the debility of our Federal system had become manifest, and the bonds which connected this vast continent were dissolving, we have seen him the chief of those patriots who formed for us a constitution, which, by preserving the Union, will, I trust, substantiate and perpetuate those blessings which our Revolution had promised to bestow.

"In obedience to the general voice of his country, calling him to preside over a great people, we have seen him once more quit the retirement he loved, and, in a season more stormy and tempestuous than war itself, with calm and wise determination, pursue the true interests of the nation and contribute more than any other could contribute to the establishment of that system of policy which will, I trust, yet preserve our peace, our honor, and our independence. Having been twice unanimously chosen the chief magistrate of a free people, we have seen him, at a time when his re-election with universal suffrage could not be doubted, afford to the world a rare instance of moderation, by withdrawing from his high station to the peaceful walks of private life. However the public confidence may change, and the public affections fluctuate with respect to others, with respect to him they have, in war and in peace, in public and in private life, been as steady as his own firm mind and as constant as his own exalted virtues. Let us then, Mr. Speaker, pay the last tribute of respect and affection to our departed friend. Let the grand council of the nation display those sentiments which the nation feels. For this purpose I hold in my hand some resolutions which I take the liberty of offering to the House.

"Resolved, That this House will wait on the President in condolence of this mournful event.

"Resolved, That the speaker's chair be shrouded with black, and that the members and officers of the House wear black during the session.

"Resolved, That a committee, in conjunction with one from the Senate, be appointed to consider on the most suitable manner of paying honor to the memory of the man first in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his fellow-citizens."

The Senate, on this melancholy occasion, addressed to the President the following letter:

"The Senate of the United States respectfully take leave, sir, to express to you their deep regret for the loss their country sustains in the death of Gen. George Washington.

"This event, so distressing to all our fellow-citizens, must be peculiarly heavy to you, who have long been associated with him in deeds of patriotism. Permit us, sir, to mingle our tears with yours. On this occasion it is manly to weep. To lose such a man at such a crisis is no common calamity to the world. Our country mourns a father. The Almighty Disposer of human events has taken from us our greatest benefactor and ornament. It becomes us to submit with reverence to Him 'who maketh darkness His pavilion.'

"With patriotic pride we review the life of our Washington and compare its events with those of other countries who have been preeminent in fame. Ancient and modern times are diminished before him. Greatness and guilt have too often been allied, but his fame is whiter than it is brilliant. The destroyers of nations stood abashed at the majesty of his virtues. It reproved the intemperance of their ambition and darkened the splendor of victory. The scene is closed, and we are no longer anxious lest misfortune should sully his glory; he has traveled on to the end of his journey and carried with him an increasing weight of honor; he has deposited it safely where misfortune cannot tarnish it, where malice cannot blast it. Favored of Heaven, he departed without exhibiting the weakness of humanity. Magnanimous in death, the darkness of the grave could not obscure his brightness.

"Such was the man whom we deplore. Thanks to God, his glory is consummated. Washington yet lives on earth in his spotless example; his spirit is in Heaven. Let his countrymen consecrate the memory of the heroic general, the patriotic statesman, and the virtuous sage. Let them teach their children never to forget that the fruits of his labors and his example are their inheritance."

To this address the President returned the following answer:

"I receive with the most respectful and affectionate sentiments, in this impressive address, the obliging expressions of your regret for the loss our country has sustained in the death of her most esteemed, beloved, and admired citizen.

"In the multitude of my thoughts and recollections on this melancholy event, you will permit me to say that I have seen him in the days of adversity, in some of the scenes of his deepest distress and most trying perplexities. I have also attended him in the highest elevation and most prosperous felicity, with uniform admiration of his wisdom, moderation, and constancy.

"Among all our original associates in that memorable league of this continent in 1774, which first expressed the sovereign will of a free nation in America, he was the only one remaining in the general government. Although with a constitution more enfeebled than his, at an age when he thought it necessary to prepare for retirement, I feel myself alone bereaved of my last brother; yet I derive a strong consolation from the unanimous disposition which appears in all ages and classes to mingle their sorrows with mine on this common calamity to the world.

"The life of our Washington cannot suffer by a comparison with those of other countries, who have been most celebrated and exalted by fame. The attributes and decorations of royalty could only have served to eclipse the majesty of those virtues which made him, from being a modest citizen, a more resplendent luminary. Misfortune, had he lived, could hereafter have sullied his glory only with those superficial minds, who, believing that character and actions are marked by success alone, rarely deserve to enjoy it. Malice could never blast his honor, and envy made him a singular exception to her universal rule. For himself, he had lived long enough to life and to glory; for his fellow-citizens, if their prayers could have been answered, he would have been immortal; for me, his departure is at a most unfortunate moment. Trusting, however, in the wise and righteous dominion of Providence over the passions of men and the results of their actions, as well as over their lives, nothing remains for me but humble resignation.

"His example is now complete, and it will teach wisdom and virtue to magistrates, citizens, and men, not only in the present age, but in future generations, as long as our history shall be read."

The committee of both Houses appointed to devise the mode by which the nation should express its grief reported the following resolutions, which were unanimously adopted:

"That a marble monument be erected by the United States at the capitol of the city of Washington, and that the family of General Washington be requested to permit his body to be deposited under it, and that the monument be so designed as to commemorate the great events of his military and political life.

"That there be a funeral from Congress Hall to the German Lutheran Church, in memory of Gen. George Washington, on Thursday, the 26th instant, and that an oration be prepared at the request of Congress, to be delivered before both Houses that day; and that the president of the Senate and speaker of the House of Representatives be desired to request one of the members of Congress to prepare and deliver the same.

"That the President of the United States be requested to direct a copy of these resolutions to be transmitted to Mrs. Washington, assuring her of the profound respect Congress will ever bear to her person and character, of their condolence on the late affecting dispensation of Providence, and entreating her assent to the interment of the remains of General Washington in the manner expressed in the first resolution.

"That the President be requested to issue his proclamation, notifying the people throughout the United States the recommendation contained in the third resolution."

These resolutions passed both Houses unanimously, and those which would admit of immediate execution were carried into effect. The whole nation appeared in mourning. The funeral procession was grand and solemn, and the eloquent oration, which was delivered on the occasion by General Lee, was heard with profound attention and with deep interest.

Throughout the United States similar marks of affliction were exhibited. In every part of the continent funeral orations were delivered, and the best talents of the nation were devoted to an expression of the nation's grief.

To the letter of the President which transmitted to Mrs. Washington the resolutions of Congress, and of which his secretary was the bearer, that lady answered:

"Taught by the great example which I have so long had before me, never to oppose my private wishes to the public will, I must consent to the request made by Congress which you have had the goodness to transmit to me; and in doing this I need not, I cannot, say what a sacrifice of individual feeling I make to a sense of public duty."

On receiving intelligence of the death of Washington, Napoleon, then First Consul of France, issued the following order of the day to the army:

"Washington is dead. This great man fought against tyranny; he established the liberty of his country. His memory will always be dear to the French people, as it will be to all freemen of the two worlds; and especially to French soldiers, who, like him and the American soldiers, have combated for liberty and equality."

Napoleon ordered that during ten days black crape should be suspended from all the standards and flags throughout the republic. On the 9th of February, 1800, a splendid funeral solemnity took place in the Champ de Mars; and a funeral oration in honor of Washington was pronounced by M. de la Fontaines, in the Hotel des Invalides, at which the First Consul and the civil and military authorities were present. {2}

The British admiral in command of the fleet lying at Torbay, on receiving the news of Washington's death, honored his memory by lowering his flag to half-mast; and his example was followed by the whole fleet. {3}

Judge Marshall, who had enjoyed the advantage of an intimate personal acquaintance with Washington, who was one of his most steadfast political supporters, and whose able biography shows a thorough appreciation of his extraordinary abilities and virtues, gives the following summary view of his character:

"General Washington was rather above the common size, his frame was robust, and his constitution vigorous—capable of enduring great fatigue and requiring a considerable degree of exercise for the preservation of his health. His exterior created in the beholder the idea of strength, united with manly gracefulness.

"His manners were rather reserved than free, though they partook nothing of that dryness and sternness which accompany reserve when carried to an extreme, and on all proper occasions he could relax sufficiently to show how highly he was gratified by the charms of conversation and the pleasures of society. His person and whole deportment exhibited an unaffected and indescribable dignity, unmingled with haughtiness, of which all who approached him were sensible; and the attachment of those who possessed his friendship and enjoyed his intimacy was ardent, but always respectful.

"His temper was humane, benevolent, and conciliatory, but there was a quickness in his sensibility to anything apparently offensive which experience had taught him to watch, and to correct.

"In the management of his private affairs he exhibited an exact yet liberal economy. His funds were not prodigally wasted on capricious and ill-examined schemes, nor refused to beneficial though costly improvements. They remained, therefore, competent to that expensive establishment which his reputation, added to a hospitable temper, had, in some measure, imposed upon him, and to those donations which real distress has a right to claim from opulence.

"He made no pretensions to that vivacity which fascinates, or to that wit which dazzles and frequently imposes on the understanding. More solid than brilliant, judgment rather than genius, constituted the most prominent feature of his character.

"Without making ostentatious professions of religion, he was a sincere believer in the Christian faith and a truly devout man.

"As a military man, he was brave, enterprising, and cautious. That malignity which has sought to strip him of all the higher qualities of a general, has conceded to him personal courage and a firmness of resolution which neither dangers nor difficulties could shake. But candor will allow him other great and valuable endowments. If his military course does not abound with splendid achievements, it exhibits a series of judicious measures adopted to circumstances, which probably saved his country.

"Placed, without having studied the theory or been taught in the school of experience the practice of war, at the head of an undisciplined, ill-organized multitude, which was impatient of the restraints and unacquainted with the ordinary duties of a camp, without the aid of officers possessing those lights which the Commander-in-Chief was yet to acquire, it would have been a miracle indeed had his conduct been absolutely faultless. But, possessing an energetic and distinguishing mind, on which the lessons of experience were never lost, his errors, if he committed any, were quickly repaired, and those measures which the state of things rendered most advisable were seldom, if ever, neglected. Inferior to his adversary in the numbers, in the equipment, and in the discipline of his troops, it is evidence of real merit that no great and decisive advantages were ever obtained over him, and that the opportunity to strike an important blow never passed away unused. He has been termed the American Fabius, but those who compare his actions with his means will perceive at least as much of Marcellus as of Fabius in his character. He could not have been more enterprising without endangering the cause he defended, nor have put more to hazard without incurring justly the imputation of rashness. Not relying upon those chances which sometimes give a favorable issue to attempts apparently desperate, his conduct was regulated by calculations made upon the capacities of his army and the real situation of his country. When called a second time to command the armies of the United States a change of circumstances had taken place, and he meditated a corresponding change of conduct. In modeling the army of 1798 he sought for men distinguished for their boldness of execution, not less than for their prudence in council, and contemplated a system of continued attack. 'The enemy,' said the general in his private letters, 'must never be permitted to gain foothold on our shores.'

"In his civil administration, as in his military career, ample and repeated proofs were exhibited of that practical good sense, of that sound judgment, which is perhaps the most rare and is certainly the most valuable quality of the human mind. Devoting himself to the duties of his station, and pursuing no object distinct from the public good, he was accustomed to contemplate at a distance those critical situations in which the United States might probably be placed, and to digest, before the occasion required action, the line of conduct which it would be proper to observe.

"Taught to distrust first impressions, he sought to acquire all the information which was attainable, and to hear, without prejudice, all the reasons which could be urged for or against a particular measure. His own judgment was suspended until it became necessary to determine, and his decisions, thus maturely made, were seldom if ever to be shaken. His conduct, therefore, was systematic, and the great objects of his administration were steadily pursued.

"Respecting, as the first magistrate in a free government must ever do, the real and deliberate sentiments of the people, their gusts of passion passed over, without ruffling the smooth surface of his mind. Trusting to the reflecting good sense of the nation for approbation and support, he had the magnanimity to pursue its real interests, in opposition to its temporary prejudices; and, though far from being regardless of popular favor, he could never stoop to retain, by deserving to lose it. In more instances than one we find him committing his whole popularity to hazard, and pursuing steadily, in opposition to a torrent which would have overwhelmed a man of ordinary firmness, that course which had been dictated by a sense of duty.

"In speculation he was a real republican, devoted to the constitution of his country and to that system of equal political rights on which it is founded. But between a balanced republic and a democracy the difference is like that between order and chaos. Real liberty, he thought, was to be preserved only by preserving the authority of the laws and maintaining the energy of government. Scarcely did society present two characters which, in his opinion, less resembled each other than a patriot and a demagogue.

"No man has ever appeared upon the theater of public action whose integrity was more incorruptible, or whose principles were more perfectly free from the contamination of those selfish and unworthy passions which find their nourishment in the conflicts of party. Having no views which required concealment, his real and avowed motives were the same; and his whole correspondence does not furnish a single case from which even an enemy would infer that he was capable, under any circumstances, of stooping to the employment of duplicity. No truth can be uttered with more confidence than that his ends were always upright and his means always pure. He exhibits the rare example of a politician to whom wiles were absolutely unknown, and whose professions to foreign governments and to his own countrymen were always sincere. In him was fully exemplified the real distinction which forever exists between wisdom and cunning, and the importance as well as truth of the maxim, that 'honesty is the best policy.'

"If Washington possessed ambition that passion was, in his bosom, so regulated by principles or controlled by circumstances that it was neither vicious nor turbulent. Intrigue was never employed as the means of its gratification, nor was personal aggrandizement its object. The various high and important stations to which he was called by the public voice were unsought by himself; and, in consenting to fill them, he seems rather to have yielded to a general conviction that the interests of his country would be thereby promoted, than to an avidity for power.

"Neither the extraordinary partiality of the American people, the extravagant praises which were bestowed upon him, nor the inveterate opposition and malignant calumnies which he encountered, had any visible influence upon his conduct. The cause is to be looked for in the texture of his mind.

"In him, that innate and unassuming modesty which adulation would have offended, which the voluntary plaudits of millions could not betray into indiscretion, and which never obtruded upon others his claims to superior consideration, was happily blended with a high and correct sense of personal dignity, and with a just consciousness of that respect which is due to station. Without exertion he could maintain the happy medium between that arrogance which wounds and that facility which allows the office to be degraded in the person who fills it.

"It is impossible to contemplate the great events which have occurred in the United States under the auspices of Washington without ascribing them, in some measure, to him. If we ask the causes of the prosperous issue of a war, against the successful termination of which there were so many probabilities; of the good which was produced, and the ill which was avoided, during an administration fated to contend with the strongest prejudices that a combination of circumstances and of passions could produce; of the constant favor of the great mass of his fellow-citizens, and of the confidence which, to the last moment of his life, they reposed in him, the answer, so far as these causes may be found in his character, will furnish a lesson well meriting the attention of those who are candidates for political fame.

"Endowed by nature with a sound judgment, and an accurate discriminating mind, he feared not that laborious attention which made him perfectly master of those subjects, in all their relations, on which he was to decide; and this essential quality was guided by an unvarying sense of moral right, which would tolerate the employment only of those means that would bear the most rigid examination, by a fairness of intention which neither sought nor required disguise, and by a purity of virtue which was not only untainted but unsuspected." The eulogies of Washington, at the time of his death, were almost as numerous as the towns and cities of the republic; for everywhere funeral honors were paid to his memory. The following, by the celebrated orator, Fisher Ames, pronounced before the Legislature of Massachusetts, is as remarkable for its conciseness as for its just and comprehensive estimate of Washington's character.

"It is not impossible," he said, "that some will affect to consider the honors paid to this great patriot by the nation as excessive, idolatrous, and degrading to freemen who are all equal. I answer, that refusing to virtue its legitimate honors would not prevent their being lavished in future on any worthless and ambitious favorite. If this day's example should have its natural effect, it will be salutary. Let such honors be so conferred only when, in future, they shall be so merited; then the public sentiment will not be misled nor the principles of a just equality corrupted. The best evidence of reputation is a man's whole life. We have now, alas, all of Washington's before us. There has scarcely appeared a really great man whose character has been more admired in his lifetime or less correctly understood by his admirers. When it is comprehended it is no easy task to delineate its excellencies in such a manner as to give the portrait both interest and resemblance, for it requires thought and study to understand the true ground of the superiority of his character over many others, whom he resembled in the principles of action and even in the manner of acting. But, perhaps, he excels all the great men that ever lived, in the steadiness of his adherence to his maxims of life and in the uniformity of all his conduct to those maxims. Those maxims, though wise, were yet not so remarkable for their wisdom as for their authority over his life, for if there were any errors in his judgment—and he displayed as few as any man—we know of no blemishes in his virtue. He was the patriot without reproach; he loved his country well enough to hold success in serving it an ample recompense. Thus far, self-love and love of country coincided, but when his country needed sacrifices that no other man could, or perhaps would be willing to make, he did not even hesitate. This was virtue in its most exalted character. More than once he put his fame at hazard, when he had reason to think it would be sacrificed, at least in this age. Two instances cannot be denied: when the army was disbanded, and again when he stood, like Leonidas at the pass of Thermopylae, to defend our independence against France.

"It is indeed almost as difficult to draw his character as to draw the portrait of virtue. The reasons are similar; our ideas of moral excellence are obscure, because they are complex, and we are obliged to resort to illustrations. Washington's example is the happiest to show what virtue is, and to delineate his character, we naturally expatiate on the beauty of virtue; much must be felt and much imagined. His pre-eminence is not so much to be seen in the display of any one virtue, as in the possession of them all and in the practice of the most difficult. Hereafter, therefore, his character must be studied before it will be striking, and then it will be admitted as a model—a precious one to a free republic.

"It is no less difficult to speak of his talents. They were adapted to lead, without dazzling mankind, and to draw forth and employ the talents of others without being misled by them. In this he was certainly superior, that he neither mistook nor misapplied his own. His great modesty and reserve would have concealed them if great occasions had not called them forth, and then, as he never spoke from the affectation to shine nor acted from any sinister motives, it is from their effects only that we are to judge of their greatness and extent. In public trusts, where men, acting conspicuously, are cautious, and in those private concerns where few conceal or resist their weakness, Washington was uniformly great, pursuing right conduct from right maxims. His talents were such as to assist a sound judgment and ripen with it. His prudence was consummate and seemed to take the direction of his powers and passions; for, as a soldier, he was more solicitous to avoid mistakes that might be fatal than to perform exploits that are brilliant; and, as a statesman, to adhere to just principles, however old, than to pursue novelties; and, therefore, in both characters, his qualities were singularly adapted to the interest and were tried in the greatest perils of the country. His habits of inquiry were so far remarkable that he was never satisfied with investigating, nor desisted from it, so long as he had less than all the light that he could obtain upon a subject, and then he made his decision without bias.

"This command over the partialities that so generally stop men short or turn them aside in their pursuit of truth, is one of the chief causes of his unvaried course of right conduct in so many difficult scenes, where every human action must be presumed to err. If he had strong passions he had learned to subdue them, and to be moderate and mild. If he had weaknesses, he concealed them, which is rare, and excluded them from the government of his temper and conduct, which is still more rare. If he loved fame, he never made improper compliances for what is called popularity. The fame he enjoyed is of the kind that will last forever, yet it was rather the effect than the motive of his conduct. Some future Plutarch will search for a parallel to his character. Epaminondas is, perhaps, the brightest name of all antiquity. Our Washington resembled him in the purity and ardor of his patriotism, and, like him, he first exalted the glory of his country. There, it is to be hoped, the parallel ends, for Thebes fell with Epamanondas. But such comparisons cannot be pursued far without departing from the similitude. For we shall find it as difficult to compare great men as great rivers; some we admire for the length and rapidity of their currents and the grandeur of their cataracts; others for the majestic silence and fullness of their streams; we cannot bring them together, to measure the difference of their waters. The unambitious life of Washington, declining fame yet courted by it, seemed, like the Ohio, to choose its long way through solitudes, diffusing fertility, or like his own Potomac, widening and deepening its channel as it approaches the sea, and displaying most the usefulness and serenity of its greatness toward the end of its course. Such a citizen would do honor to any country. The constant veneration and affection of his country will show that it was worthy of such a citizen.

"However his military fame may excite the wonder of mankind, it is chiefly by his civil magistracy that his example will instruct them. Great generals have arisen in all ages of the world, and perhaps most of them in despotism and darkness. In times of violence and convulsion they rise, by the force of the whirlwind, high enough to ride in it and direct the storm. Like meteors, they glare on the black clouds with a splendor that, while it dazzles and terrifies, makes nothing visible but the darkness. The fame of heroes is indeed growing vulgar; they multiply in every long war; they stand in history and thicken in their ranks almost as undistinguished as their own soldiers.

"But such a chief magistrate as Washington appears like the pole-star in a clear sky to direct the skilful statesman. His presidency will form an epoch and be distinguished as the age of Washington. Already it assumes its high place in the political region. Like the milky-way, it whitens along its allotted portion of the hemisphere. The latest generations of men will survey, through the telescope of history, the space where so many virtues blend their rays, and delight to separate them into groups and distinct virtues. As the best illustration of them, the living monument, to which the first of patriots would have chosen to consign his fame, it is my earnest prayer to Heaven that our country may subsist even to that late day in the plenitude of its liberty and happiness, and mingle its mild glory with Washington's."

1. Footnote: Our authority for the details of Washington's last illness and death is a statement carefully prepared by Mr. Lear at the time, and published from the original in Sparks' "Life of Washington." It is the most exact and reliable authority extant.

2. Footnote: Sparks, "Life of Washington."

3. Footnote: Sparks, "Life of Washington."