Sir:
Your Excellency will, I am persuaded, readily admit the force of this sentiment, that though it is the duty of a good citizen to devote his services to the public, when it has occasion for them, he cannot, with propriety or delicacy to himself, obtrude them when it either has, or appears to have none. The difficulties I experienced last campaign in obtaining a command, will not suffer me to make any further application on that head.
As I have many reasons to consider my being employed hereafter in a precarious light, the bare possibility of rendering an equivalent will not justify, to my scruples, the receiving any future emoluments from my commission. I therefore renounce, from this time, all claim to the compensations attached to my military station during the war, or after it. But I have motives which will not permit me to resolve on a total resignation. I sincerely hope a prosperous train of affairs may continue to make it no inconvenience to decline the services of persons, whose zeal, in worse times, was found not altogether useless: but as the most promising appearances are often reversed by unforeseen disasters, and as unfortunate events may again make the same zeal of some value, I am unwilling to put it out of my power to renew my exertions in the common cause, in the line in which I have hitherto acted.
I shall accordingly retain my rank while I am permitted to do it; and take this opportunity to declare, that I shall be at all times ready to obey the call of the public, in any capacity, civil or military (consistent with what I owe to myself), in which there may be a prospect of my contributing to the final attainment of the object for which I embarked in the service.
I have the honor to be,
Very respectfully,
Your Excellency’s
Most obedient servant,
A. Hamilton.
General Washington.
HAMILTON TO MEADE.
Philadelphia, March, 1782.
A half hour since brought me the pleasure of your letter of December last. It went to Albany and came from thence to this place. I heartily felicitate you on the birth of your daughter. I can well conceive your happiness on that occasion, by that which I feel on a similar one. Indeed, the sensations of a tender father of the child of a beloved mother, can only be conceived by those who have experienced them.
Your heart, my Meade, is peculiarly formed for enjoyments of this kind. You have every right to be a happy husband—a happy father. You have every prospect of being so. I hope your felicity may never be interrupted.